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Author's note:

This is a departure for me in two ways.

First, I have never before attempted a story entirely from the woman's point of view, though many of my other tales have tried to include that.

Second, I've never before tried to write incest/taboo. I haven't been there in reality, though this story realises a fantasy for me. Sort of, a past fantasy.

My thanks to my editor/partner for -- deservedly -- ripping my first drafts of this to shreds. (She is a cruel bitch sometimes, but I need that part of her, as I need everything of her.)

And thanks to my kind readers, male and female. You've sustained me with your posts and mails.

*****

He paused and she caught up with him, panting up the steep slope. She noted that his breathing was steady, though he'd fifteen years on her. Was grateful he'd chosen what he called an 'easy' hill for them. It was an unusually hot day for September in Scotland, and she saw with relief that he was pouring sweat too. Good! Cousin Gavin was human.

- Well Jean, think I need a wee rest. This dyke's a nice windbreak. You OK with that?

He laughed warmly and she was glad of his care for her. She knew he didn't really need a rest, but christ, she did.

- Gav, I'm desperate to sit down. I'm not as used to this as you are.

She flounced down behind the south-facing drystone wall. Her feet were hot in the new boots, and her right heel felt tender. She tugged the boots off. He busied himself with the rucsac, foraging for sandwiches and flask, unearthing teabags.

She looked him over. She was glad she'd called him, suggested the walk. She'd always adored him, her elder cousin, and relished the few hours they occasionally managed to snatch together, free of spouses and kids. They were close and comfortable, always had been. She'd trusted him from when she was wee and he'd babysat her, put her to bed, read her stories.

He hunkered down before her, noticed her fingers at the heel:

- Problem?

- Blister coming I think, just a wee bit uncomfortable.

- Get the sock off, let's have a look? Always best to catch a blister before it forms.

His fingers touched the bare heel delicately and she winced. He lifted her leg and twisted to look:

- Aye, a bit chafed. Glad you caught it in time. Let's see the other now, just in case?

He peered as the other sock came off. She liked his fingers fondling her feet, caring for her. His eyes rose to her face, feet still in his hands, and she shivered. He turned back to the rucsac, withdrew a knife and roll of Elastoplast, cotton wool buds:

- Just going to wipe the sweat off Jean, before I put the plasters on.

She watched intrigued as he poured boiling water from the flask into a mug, wiped the sore bits gently. She realised that the last time anyone had touched her feet was when her parents had bathed her when she was wee. Entranced by his care for her, she felt stirring in her loins. He patted the feet dry, cut and applied the plasters. Smiled at her:

- Well, I hope that does the trick! But if you start to feel anything later, tell me.

She felt something now, but not in her heels. As well he didn't know that. He made two mugs of tea, moved to hand her one, and a sandwich. Their fingers grazed slightly, lingering, and he gazed in her eyes. She felt a wee shiver at his look. Not disturbed exactly, but she hadn't seen him like that before, and it pushed slightly outside her comfort zone. He'd looked at her as a desirable woman.

Her groin tingled. Christ, what was this? It's Gavin, daftie! She shook her head slightly, and made herself return his look, unswerving. His gaze held hers:

- Jean, I'm so glad you suggested this. And didn't you pick the right day for it! God, isn't it gorgeous! And it's so lovely to be with you again, just the two of us.

A tremor ran through her. He had sometimes been the subject of her fantasies, though she had difficulty admitting it to herself. Fantasies never happen... but was there something in his voice, when he said that - just the two of us?

He settled beside her, hips and shoulders touching, swept his arm across the landscape before them, naming what they could see. Rough moorland immediately below, the odd blackface ewe grazing, then a wide wooded strath, and more hills beyond. She took a deliberate breath and held his hand, pointed it:

- What's that Gavin, that hill?

- That's Tinto. It's a bit bigger than this one. It has a fascinating Neolithic earthwork on the summit. Maybe for our next outing, depending on how you are by the time we've finished today?

She released his hand, aware that hers was trembling slightly. He turned:

- I do hope, now you've got your boots, that this'll be the first of many days together Jean? If you enjoy it, maybe we can graduate to mountains?

Something in his voice again, and in his look. Or was she imagining it?

- Mmm, not so sure about mountains. But days hillwalking together, yes. Dave's suggested he takes the boys on his own some Sundays, to güvenilir bahis give me time to myself. After all, he's played golf every Saturday for years. And -- she glanced down at herself -- I could lose a few pounds.

She thought for a moment. Her eyes fell from his. Ach, what the hell:

- A girl can play too.

He looked at her carefully:

- Aye, I know it's been hard for you when he was struggling, working all hours. And the boys were wee, required your constant attention. I know you've had no time to be you, the you beyond the housewife and mother. I'm so glad it's easier for you both now. And you're right, a girl needs to play. But -- he grinned engagingly -- not to lose weight, not this girl anyway. You're very sexy just as you are.

Her blush spread. He'd never said anything remotely like that before. Her body liked the thought that he found her sexy, despite a twinge of cerebral unease about where this might be going. The hint of danger was exciting. And she'd rather be hillwalking with Gavin than sitting with a G