Incessant Pt. 04

Riley kept busy for a few more minutes, doing her nighttime routine. Eventually, she settled in next to me. We kept a respectful distance and made small-talk about what we'd do the next day. Blake was set to arrive soon, and I had to get back to work on the renovation. Meanwhile, Riley made us promise to go running with her the next morning. As the lights went out, I felt two bodies gravitate towards me; we held each other, warmly.

I was looking forward to my older sister's arrival, and I couldn't wait for Mom to join us again. Then, we'd have that 'party' for Emily's birthday, and well, all bets seemed to be off...

Chapter Eight

Despite us having a massive new bed, I still somehow ended up sandwiched between my sister and Riley. It was maybe 2 AM and I couldn't get back to sleep because of the heat. My options were limited. I could get up without waking them if I were very quiet, but then it would be almost impossible to get back between them.

Riley was splayed over my body while Emily somehow managed to get her hand under my neck. They were both fast asleep; snoring as they dreamt sweet dreams. Teenage me would've thought I'm pretty cool, but present me really needed a glass of water! I made an executive decision and began the long and laborious process of sneaking away.

I had to move carefully — inch for inch — until I was free. Our phones were stacked on the nightstand and I grabbed mine before heading downstairs. Once in the kitchen, I poured a glass of cold water and took a seat. Then, I had a really dumb idea.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.

Just as I was about to hang up, my older sister answered. "Josh? What's going on?!"

Reality hit me and I felt terrible realising that I woke her. "Shit, I'm sorry. Nothing's wrong, I just... Uhm—"

There was a groan on the other end of the line, "Boyfriend, why can't you sleep?"

I explained to my sister that I had been struggling to sleep the whole week, and that it was the heat that got to me tonight. All the while, I was apologising about waking her, but she didn't seem to mind.

"We've had four people on a smaller bed and you've never complained. I think it's something other than the temperature that has you hot under the collar." Blake laughed and I could hear that she was now out of bed. The sound of a kettle starting up told me she was settling in for a long call.

"No, Blake, this girl is gay-gay. So, it's not that," I tried to explain.

"Well, you do seem to be the only guy who makes these girls swing bi," my lover mused.

"That's Emily... It's different."

Blake's voice sounded whimsical and lost in thought. She started speaking dreamily, "I adore you in ways I can't describe. For three years, I studied Shakespeare and every line he wrote about being in love made me think of you. Crazy as that kind of love is; the kind of thing that drives people insane. Hell, I want you to be happy, Baby Brother. You're my king and I'm your queen, and I'll help you conquer the world, Babe. Just tell me what to do."

"Sis... I... I wish I had your eloquence; your gift for words. Then again, if I could find endless ways of saying 'I love you', I would never say anything else."

"You're not bad at words, but I miss your..."

"Touch?"

Blake confessed, "I want to hold you."

"Soon," I consoled.

"Meanwhile, you have blondie to keep you company," I sensed a little bite behind Blake's words.

"You don't have to worry about that," I snickered.

A silence followed. We were giving each other time to settle and think; allowing our tired brains and bodies to calculate. Blake smacked her lips, "Even if she's a proper lesbian, doesn't mean there aren't possibilities..."

"Whoa, let's not even—"

"She'll definitely want to watch when you guys do it; that's the obvious next step. But do you think she'd be cool making-out with Em while you fuck her? That's not really a threesome, so it should be good. Like, do you think she'll lick your cum off our lil' sis? And I guess I'm not off limits if it's purely a sexuality thing, same for Mom—"

"Hold up," I interjected. "Is that what you want? Do you want to get with her?"

My sister went quiet. Blake had experienced true stress three or four times in her life, and this sounded like one of those times. We never really talked about what she was into. Growing up, she had boys who were friends but no boyfriends. There were neither girl friends nor girlfriends. I always figured she was somewhat asexual until the first time we made love. Then we discovered she had a bit of a porn habit — a taste for the very colourful, hyper-visual, stuff that guys like. Still, I don't know if that really tells you anything about a person.

"It's a bit embarrassing," my sister offered.

I tried to reassure Blake, "Hey, you can tell me whatever you need to tell me."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Anything."

"Aside from me, Emily, and Mom," she stopped.

I spared her from having to ask, "No. It's only ever been the three of you."

"I never asked because I know guys care about body-count or whatever," Blake rambled. "I've also... You know."

"Only ever slept with family?"

"Right."

The sound of breathing was the only thing to come through the line for a whole minute. We were brooding on the things that had been said; replaying the words in our head to allow for careful analysis.

I broke the silence, "Any regrets?"

My older sister chuckled, "God, no! We're two pieces of the same puzzle."

"Made for each other."

"No one else will do!" Blake added decisively.

"Miss you," I sighed.

"Only a couple more nights!"

"Sis?"

"Yeah?"

"I want to do this thing with you. Let's expand our horizons," I declared.

Despite being hours away, I could feel Blake grinning happily on the other end of the line. "Hand-in-hand, husband and wife—"

"Brother and sister," I said.

"I'm glad you called — glad you woke me. Stay on the line while I deal with how horny you're making me?"

"Of course."

: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :

In high school, my younger sister briefly forced me to train with her. She was a long-distance champ whereas I was super unfit. Yet, four years later, the shoe was finally on the other foot. I had to drive my arms back hard to get over the soreness in my legs. My breathing was rushed and heavy — a passerby would probably think I'm having a heart attack. Despite all that, I was feeling great! You couldn't wipe the smile off my face. I matched the blonde fitness fanatic next to me while my sister struggled to keep up.

Emily made us stop, wheezing, "Fuck, it's been too long."

"You'll be 21 in two days, Sis. Then you won't have that youthful metabolism to keep you looking good," I teased.

"Oh, screw you," she stuck her tongue out. "I'm way more athletic than you'll ever be, it's just—"

"You're unfit?" I jabbed.

"I'm not running fit. Why don't you guys go along and I'll head back?"

I offered to return with Emily, and Riley did the same, but she waved us goodbye. We kept up our run for another five minutes before karma punched me in the stomach. I hit 'the wall' that runners like to talk about.

My blonde-haired, grey-eyed, companion gave me a sympathetic look before planting herself next to a lamppost. It was a graceless move that made my heart flutter — she had tons of charm. Like me, she was sweating and her skin was flushed, but she had a great big smile while I looked half-dead. Her body had all the indicators; the signs that she was someone who invested in her health and appearance.

"Have you always been into running?" I asked breathlessly.

The blonde beckoned me to sit down, which was probably a bad idea because I wouldn't be able to get back up again. But I joined her, and she started chatting, "The one thing I don't like about exercising is when people see me do it. So, running was only ever a thing during times that I could afford to get up super early."

"Why don't you like it when people see you exercise?" I asked.

"I wish I knew," Riley shrugged and began laughing at herself, which made me laugh with her. Our eyes met and there was a pause as our brains ran through every neurone. We were beginning to realise that we liked each other, but it was complicated...

"I've enjoyed getting to know you," I said.

"Josh, I've enjoyed it too but remember—"

"You're gay-gay?"

"Yeah," Riley's laugh was rekindled. She crashed into my shoulder and wrapped her arm around mine. "I can't decide whether this whole situation is unbelievably complex or exceedingly simple."

"Those are big words," I taunted.

"I'm something of an intellectual."

"It's really simple," I asserted. "We're a bunch of people who love each other and that's all there is to it."

My new best friend snorted, "Sure! That's all there is to it."

"Exactly."

We spent some time sitting together until a car passed us, and we realised the time. People were beginning to head out for work and school. The walk home was pleasant — I kept telling her life is easy, and she rolled her eyes in response. At home, we headed to the bedroom we now shared and negotiated who would shower first.

It all came naturally to us.

Chapter Nine

My first job was in a data centre and I can count the number of times I had to do strenuous manual labour on one hand. So, why am I in the real estate/construction business now? That's the question my dad was asking over the phone while I clumsily tried to fit a light fixture. "You have my entrepreneurial spirit," he answered himself.

I didn't hold him in the highest regard, but he did build a business from nothing (even if that business sold snake oil). His words came as a compliment, "Thanks, Dad. Now, about Emily's birthday—"

"Don't worry! I promise I won't forget about it."

"It's this Sunday, so day after tomorrow—"

"I won't forget to call!" my father insisted. "And I'm sending a gift: some shoes.

It was unlikely that he'd forget his dearest child's birthday. I had an ulterior motive for calling him, "Dad... Do you also feel kind of conflicted about her getting older?"

The line went deathly quiet and I began to wonder if we'd been disconnected, but then my father spoke. There was a thoughtfulness in his voice that I'd seldom heard before. "Blake was always more adult than any of us, so I never worried about her. You were a bit of a jackass in your teens but you turned out alright."

"Gee, thanks," I interrupted.

"I haven't seen Em in a while; since she started spending time with you she's been better and I worry less."

My father's defining characteristic was that he never worried about anything. So, I was curious, "What were you worried about?"

"She reminded me of your aunt, Terry. Thank god that's not the case anymore, though," my father sighed in relief.

Terry is my mom's twin sister and the woman who tried to blackmail us when she found out about our affair. I'd spent three years trying to forget about a woman who was never really in our lives until we were vulnerable. When we gave her the slightest opportunity, she took it and tried to bend us to her will. Sometimes, I wished that I understood her motivations.

My dad mentioned something I'd noticed before, but didn't understand. I asked him what he meant — how was Emily like our aunt and what about that caused him so much worry? He did that thing parents do, "You should ask your mother. Usually twins are incredibly close but the two of them were never. She'll tell you why."

On the other end of the line, I rolled my eyes. There was no way that my mother would tell me anything about her sister. Especially not after that sister cajoled her into bed only to take advantage of her kids moments later.

Our phone call ended after some chit-chat. It's strange talking to a man whose ex-wife and daughters you are sleeping with; even if he doesn't know that. He didn't seem to think anything of our decision to move in together. In fact, he's maybe one of the many people who kind of saw it coming. Growing up, there was always a connection between me, Emily, and Blake that seemed special. Maybe it was something like the connection between twins. A connection that my mother never experienced with hers...

I grabbed my car keys and decided that I'd done enough for the day. The reno-apartment was coming along nicely. It would soon reach that stage where anything you do extra is really just for your own vanity.

: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :


During the off-season, the main shop in town wouldn't stay open long, but you could go to the hotel for necessities.

"Hey, Penny!" I greeted the receptionist. "Can I make you an offer to get some milk and a pack of sugar?"

The platinum blonde teen with the pretty green eyes observed me keenly, "What are you offering?"

Not actually knowing how much I typically pay for these things, I took out my wallet and shrugged. "I usually pay what they tell me. I'm one of those people who doesn't the price of a gallon of milk."

"The life of the privileged," Penny teased. "Tell you what, let's say that this round is on the house."

"No, I couldn't do that to you!" I protested.

Penny waved my objections away and retreated to the kitchen. She always looked professional but approachable — the perfect mix for someone in tourism. Her dark jeans were the casual complement to a brown tweed blazer and a smart white blouse. She wore small golden hoops on her ears and a pair of pricey but comfortable leather booties. Her hair came down straight to shoulder-length in a very early-2000s style that was minimal but also chic. Everything she wore made her seem older than nineteen, but you couldn't ever look past her youthful vibrance. She came back and I thought something looked different, but couldn't quite place my finger on it.

"Did you... You look..." I tried to figure out what seemed unfamiliar about her.

The small-town hotelier giggled and her cheeks turned red. In the time between me greeting her and her coming back from the kitchen, her lips had gotten pinker and her lashes darker. "I don't see many men my age around here. You're the only guy I can doll myself up for," she confessed.

"You make me blush, but I'm not quite your age," I confessed.

"Even better," Penny blinked.

"Well, I'm glad that I can provide some motivation. You always look great though," I encouraged. "There aren't many young women around either, so I guess you're the only girl that I can dress up for too."

"Aside from your sisters, your sister's girlfriend, and your mom?" the receptionist retorted. Then she raised a finger at me and ran back to the kitchen. When she returned again, it was with a bottle of red wine. "For Emily's birthday, from me."

The bottle had a fine label that confirmed it was a premium vintage. I gave Penny a hug and thanked her a thousand times for such a thoughtful gesture. Almost accidentally, I ended up inviting her to come over on Sunday for my sister's birthday. I got a flattered giggle in response and a little wink with a polite rejection. "It's very obvious that your sister doesn't like me."

"Well, if you have second thoughts!" I waved her goodbye with the wine and my groceries. With our 'secret' it was hard to keep friends, but for some reason I felt comfortable with Penny.

I got in my car and drove the scenic route home; feeling excited for what was to come.

Meanwhile...

Katherine was struggling to settle down. It was going to be a long flight, and she was restless — eager to get home to her kids. The divorce was a bitter pill to swallow, but very necessary. She wanted to be with Josh, Emily, and Blake for the rest of her life. Over the course of her trip she'd learnt one thing about herself: that she wanted to make them happy. She'd made mistakes as a young parent, but now she was committed to being the best mother she could be.

Even on the plane, the mom of four was cataloguing her adult children's different needs. She owed her oldest some pampering, after the lengths that Blake went to when she was younger. Wherever Katherine failed, it was Blake who picked up the slack. Yes, she wanted to make Blake her princess (or her queen).

Then there was Emily. She was a happy child until the end of her teen years, when she realised she'd only ever love one boy: her brother. That was a terribly confusing time for her daughter. Katherine wished she hadn't ignored it, but then she might have gotten jealous. Part of her didn't want to see them together, until she realised that it was her route to Josh. Without Emily, Katherine would never be able to get with her son. She wanted to make up for abandoning Emily. She wanted to hold her darling daughter to her bosom and protect her against the whole cruel world.

Then there was her son, Josh. He was self-sufficient — the son who couldn't run away fast enough, until he fell back in love with his sisters. Katherine imagined that she'd need to give him a lot of guidance. Despite their independent spirits, the sisters liked the idea of Josh being the man in charge. But he was reluctant to play that role; scared of coming across as too tough. His mother would need to show him that a little tough love is what the girls needed and craved (including her).

Of course, there were other needs that Kat wanted to fulfil for her kids as well. Sitting in her aisle seat, her lips curled into a manic smile as she imagined the dirty things they'd soon do. Being their sexy-submissive mommy gave her a rush unlike any other. The harsher they were with her, the more she liked it. Any guilt she felt over mistakes she made was soothed by her daughters' hands impacting against her ass, or her son's gorgeous penis in her cunt. That's the word she liked to use: cunt, mommy-pussy, slit... Fucking the hooker in Rome made her like those words more — she was turning into a bit of a libertine or a pervert.

The mother-in-lust's sexual thoughts were dangerous — she felt a tension between her legs and had no way to release it. It was a long flight and the bathroom seemed too risky. She considered asking for a blanket, but there were people all around her, and she was in no mood to cause an incident. No, she'd have to wait it out. In a whisper, she scolded herself, "You horny slut."

"Sorry?" a voice replied to her mumbles. It was one of the flight attendants, busy taking drink orders from passengers.

"Oh, I was just talking to myself," Katherine blushed.

The pale redhead with a bright smile and even brighter red lips nodded. "Would you like something to drink, ma'am?"

Katherine ordered a glass of wine to soothe her embarrassment, knowing well that booze would only make her feel hornier. As she drank, she browsed pictures on her phone. They were pictures of her kids that had been sent to her over the last few weeks. Emily considered herself a bit of a photographer, and she liked to tease her poor mother. With the wine and the photos, the fire between the mother's legs was only getting warmer.

Fifteen minutes passed before the redhead returned to the front of the plane. She seemed to be checking up on Katherine; glancing over to her at regular intervals. A while passed before she actually approached, "Ma'am, is this your first time flying?"

Katherine was taken aback, "Wha... No, I—"

"I only ask because we'd like you to be comfortable, and well..."

"I'm a bit agitated?"

The stewardess sniggered, "It seems so. Can I do anything to help?"

Katherine would hate to think that she was tipsy after a single glass of wine. Yet, her quick reply made it seem that way, "Honestly, I just really need to masturbate."

Katherine estimated the attendant was about thirty, and probably no stranger to odd passengers. She hoped it was the kind of thing one could say nowadays, to someone you'd never met before... At least she was being honest, she thought to herself. That made it alright, right?