Mind Made Up Pt. 07

Castillo. Day seven. Monday.

It's been a full week since I returned to my home town. In that time, my life has completely and perhaps irremediably been altered by my father's will. I used to hate this city - now, I can't see my life without it. It's all thanks to a little ring I inherited from my father.

So many women. So much love. So much sex! It started with mom's friend from the other town, Dolores, and a wonderful blowjob. Pauline Walker, next door neighbor - I spent time with her twice, getting to know her and her troubles with her husband Jeff. My former high school teacher, Alice Welsh, with whom I spent quality time, sharing her with her husband as their passion rekindled. Olivia Carson, former schoolmate, with whom I've become quite intimate, to the point of having a threesome with her and another girl, Milly Flint, waitress at a local restaurant - both these girls are looking for what they want to do with their lives. Then there's sweet librarian Mary Winston, a wonderful feminine package that I've got working on my father's request from his will - finding his estranged daughter, Jessie. There's even been beautiful sex with a local realtor, Sally O'Malley, with whom I've struck an unusual real estate deal. I've also entertained a business transaction with local restaurant and bar owner Lulu Bowler; I've loaned my services out to her in exchange for money. Nothing sexual has come of it so far.

That money was going to be invested in taking care of my mom, now a widow (not that she still lived with my father as they were divorced a long time ago), living alone. I'm now partially rethinking the management of those funds, in light of broader plans (those I sealed with the realtor).

And I shouldn't fail to mention the increased intimacy with both of my sisters, the eldest Stacey and the youngest Heather, who clearly have a form of sexual fascination with me, like most of the women in my life. Things got pretty heated with Stacey on Sunday, and though I am glad she's no longer around to tempt me, I do miss her presence in our home.

My waking mind wanders to a thought: I spent the entire day yesterday without the ring, and it had no effect - nothing changed. Mary, Stacey, the realtor - they were all swayed by me in the exact same way. So either it's not the ring, or its effect on me has already become permanent. There's no way to tell.

I rise and hurry to the shower, wash, dry, get dressed and then head down to the kitchen. Mom is there, cooking breakfast; Heather is still in bed. I suspect she's still a late sleeper, and only woke up early because she was sharing the room with Stacey.

I walk up behind mom, slaving over the stove, building a small tower of pancakes. I wrap my arms around her; she nudges against me and we embrace. Today, she's not going to work because of me supporting her. As far as I'm concerned, she doesn't have to go back if she doesn't want to. We hug silently still for a moment, then I pull away.

"Mom, can I still have the car for the day?"

"Of course, dear," she replies. "What do you want it for?"

"Taking a short trip out-of-town."

She carries on cooking.

"I have a list of groceries I'd like picked up. Could you do it?"

"So long as you don't need them early. I don't expect to be back until supper."

"That's fine."

I grab a few pancakes, disrupting the perfect tower beside my mom. She gives me a fake scolding glance; I laugh as I sit down to eat.

"I miss your sister already," mom says.

"I know. Me too."

How I miss her indeed; the touch of her skin, her hand on my shaft - I push these thoughts away to consider something else.

"Mom, I need to ask a very blunt question. A few, maybe."

She removes the pancake from the pan, lowers the flame, then turns to me, at full attention.

"This house we have... how much are you attached to it?"

"Grant, dear... it's... the home where you were born - where you grew up. It carries all these memories with it."

I was afraid she might see it like that; I can't fault her. I have my own memories connected to this place. Some older, some more recent.

"Why do you ask?" she inquires.

"No reason."

I don't feel confident asking her to put out a second mortgage on this place so we can move to my new future beachfront residence with some capital to start. If she sold it, it would mean less hassle than with a loan, but if she doesn't want to leave, I would never force her. Still, mom's house could serve as the starting capital for my project. It's a difficult quandary.

Mom moves closer to me, placing her hand on my shoulder.

"What's eating you, son?"

"Just... thinking of my future in town. I love living here but..."

"You'd also like your own place. I understand."

My hand reaches for hers; I pull her in against me, my head resting against her soft breasts. She caresses my hair.

"I'll never abandon you, mom. I'm... I'm just thinking about options right now. Covering all bases, if you will."

"I know you'll find something that works for you."

She lifts up my chin; her smile is reassuring.

"You have your dad's stare," she states.

"I do?"

"Yes. Intense and profound - always thinking. It's one of the things that drew me to him in the first place. I see so much of him in you, now."

You have no idea, I consider.

"Thank you, mom."

I smile. She leans in and gives me a peck on the forehead. I squeeze my head hard against her chest. This makes her giggle, then we let each other go. I turn back to my pancakes as mom returns to her stove work; I catch myself staring at her figure a tad longer than before, but I quickly turn to my meal and swallow everything.

"Tell Heather I said hi," I tell my mom.

"Be safe on the road."

"I will be."

I go back to offer mom another hug, from the side this time. She leans her own head against my chest and I kiss it - then, I'm out the door, keys in hand. I don't bother checking my messages (which I'm sure there are, Mary, Olivia, Milly, who else!) I'll do it when I get to my destination, an hour's drive from here.

THE RIDE IS BORING. One hour alone in the car, for a man who doesn't really like to drive. But the destination will be worth it. Dolores is not expecting me - not that it matters. I know her schedule, or at least I remember it and I don't think it's changed that much. Monday morning, 9:30am, she should be home. And if she's not, I can always give her a call and find out where she's at.

There's also my local side project, but I am keeping that for the afternoon.

With only the radio to keep me company, my mind has plenty of time to wander, and wonder. The miracle of newfound powers of persuasion (which has led me to some rather incredible sexual activity) remains intact. An ornate ring, given by my father, seemingly grants me the ability to charm people to my way of thinking, and to make me somewhat irresistible to people attracted to me (women so far, and I'm not tempted to try it on men, simply because I have no inclination towards homosexuality myself). Mary Winston is on it, but I'm doubtful she'll find anything. For all we know, the ring is centuries old and no one knows its origins. My father inherited it from his father - but I know nothing before that. Mary thinks that there may be records in the court offices to track the inheritance. Who knows? It's clear the answers will be difficult - if not impossible - to get.

But there is another mystery that's connected to it, and I'm hoping Dolores will be able to grant me some insights into it. I do not dare ask mom - she's already opened up enough about her past to me to make me rethink my stance on my dad. I suspect his absence in our lives had much more to do with the presence of the ring than any desire not to see us. In fact, he and my mom were still somewhat close despite not telling us. But the mystery of my father is one I can pierce - if I ask the right questions to the right people.

Dolores is one of those. I think of her because, for one, I know that she slept with my father way back when (the picture in my dad's collection tells the story). She lives far enough from Castillo that I don't fear word of my visit spilling outside of her immediate neighborhood, if even that. She's been my mother's friend for a long time, so I feel she wouldn't compromise my mother's happiness for anything.

Frankly, she seems the best person to help me understand my father's life and mind.

I pull into Dolores' street and drive down slowly, taking in the neighborhood. A quiet place, potentially nosy neighbors. Not that I really care, but a part of me reminds me to be cautious. I pull into the driveway and exit the vehicle, walking slowly to the door. I knock. A moment later, the door opens. Dolores is standing there, wearing a flowery dress just at mid-thighs with tight straps, a low balcony that shows ample cleavage. Her smile widens as she acknowledges my presence.

"Grant. Hi!"

"Dolores. May I come in?"

"Of course, dear, of course!"

I notice the twinkle of desire in her eyes from the moment I move into the home, but she plays it cool, closing the door gently, smiling.

"Come in. Want something to drink?"

"I'm not disturbing, am I?"

"Nonsense. I was just... doing chores."

For a woman in her forties, she remainsquite stunning.

"Had I known you'd been coming, I'd have made myself presentable!" she says.

"You are quite lovely as you are, Dolores. Thank you. I will have some water. Or wine."

We move into the kitchen. I watch her get the glasses, then the bottle from the fridge. She pours them, brings one over to me, takes one for herself. I raise my glass.

"To new experiences."

"Is that why you're here?" she quips.

I laugh with a full heart.

"Can't say I haven't thought about what we did my last visit," I confess.

"I wasn't sure you'd ever come back."

"And miss your delightful company? Dolores, you know me better than that. You're practically family."

It's her turn to laugh.

"Is that what you do with family nowadays?"

"Nowadays," I reply, "a lot of changes have been happening in my life. I'm here because I wanted to see you - spend time with you - do what we couldn't do last time I was here."

"I like that."

"And I also want to chat. About my dad."

"Oh."

She pauses; the smile goes away. This conversation has turned more serious.

"What do you want to talk about?"

I motion her to sit, so we move to her kitchen table, sitting near one another. I put my hands on the table after putting down my wine glass.

"I inherited something from my father."

"You did?"

"His... collection."

She doesn't seem to understand.

"Of photographs," I add.

The awareness comes to her face; she nods silently. I carry on, reaching for my phone, loading up the pictures, finding hers, then showing it to her. She's standing in the center of frame, her arms above her head, lifting her very round breasts (implants, obviously) up. She's looking slightly away from the camera. I show her the picture. She smiles.

"Haven't seen that in years."

"You're gorgeous, Dolores."

"Thanks..."

She blushes, then sighs.

"I suppose you'd like to know how your father got that picture?"

"I think I know, but I'll let you tell it."

"There's... not much to tell, to be honest."

She leans back, takes a large sip of wine, then continues.

"It was about a year after your father's divorce that I let him take that picture. I didn't know he kept a collection, but I'm not surprised."

"Why did you let him do that?"

"Because I know he wouldn't misuse it, or sell it, or do anything irregular with him."

"You had an affair with my dad."

Dolores giggles.

"That's not what we called it, love. Besides, your father never pretended it was anything more than sex."

"It lasted for a while."

"It lasted until a few months ago," she blatantly admits.

I'm only half-surprised; given my own recent proclivities, why wouldn't my father carry on with Dolores for years? I certainly have no idea of ending it with any of my current partners.

"What happened a few months ago?"

"Nothing. That I know of. Your father was... a busy man."

"I bet."

My commentary throws her off; I play it cool by falling back onto an already stated argument.

"Judging by the collection," I tell her.

"Oh. Yes, well... I never knew how many."

I leave it at that.

"Did my mom know?"

"Jane?"

"Yes," I insist. "Did she?"

Dolores smiles.

"She knew. Heck, she participated."

"What?"

"Look, I'm telling you this in confidence because... well, because I think you should know. No, your father never cheated on your mom, because she was aware of his secret."

That, I already knew, but I decide to keep it to myself, because I want to hear more from Dolores.

"So the three of you...?"

"A few times in the last... fifteen years? Yeah."

"So you and mom...?"

"Me and Jane, yes. She's... she was good."

Now I can't shake the image of my mother on all fours, her head buried between Dolores' legs. And of course, the image of my father joins in somewhere in there. Dolores can tell I'm picturing it.

"Don't be ashamed. It was a beautiful thing."

I don't disagree, and that may be the problem.

"Can you tell me... how it happened? I change the subject."

"How 'what' happened exactly?"

"How you and my dad... started?"

She leans back again, taking another sip.

"He... seduced me. I can't explain it otherwise. I must have known him for years before it happened."

"When did it happen?"

"...oh... I don't recall."

"Go on, I tell her."

She purses her lips.

"I could tell you... or I could show you."

"Show me?" I mumble.

She smiles, then gulps down her drink. I take another sip, watch her stand. She starts walking away - I put the glass down and follow her as she treks towards her living room. She walks up to the door.

"Your father... he rang the door bell. I hadn't seen him in months, not since the divorce. I opened the door and he stood there. I was surprised, of course. He asked if he could come in. He had this quality in him - something a bit primal."

"Primal...," I comment.

- Yes. His smell was intense. We talked a bit, though not too long. He told me that he needed a place to crash. There was something irresistible about him that day - something new.

I let her go on. She comes back towards me, grabs my hand, and drags me with her. We head towards the bedroom.

" I couldn't really think, you see. He was in my mind."

"Like... what?"

"Like... I wanted him so badly," she adds.

We reach the door.

"When we got to the door frame, he stopped. He turned to face me."

I turn to face her.

"Just like that... we kissed."

I lean in and lock lips with her; she returns the favor. When I pull away, she's speechless.

"And then you went over to the bed," I add.

She pulls me in that direction, then starts to strip me. She's not telling a story anymore - she's living it. I let her carry out her fantasy and soon, I'm fully naked in front of her. She stares longingly, then motions me to lie down on the bed, which I do. She takes a step back and strips her top off her frame. She also pulls her bra off, revealing delectable breasts to my lewd eyes. She pulls the dress above her waist, then removes her panties, exposing a nice shaven sex.

"It went something a bit like this..."

"I see," I tell her.

She climbs onto the bed, crawling over me. Her hand reaches for my rising erection, gently caressing it. She moves her lips to it, kissing the tip. With one hand at the base of my shaft, she starts rubbing the other on it, keeping her mouth on my tip. I moan and shudder from the stimulation.

"Oh Dolores... that's so good."

She moans in response, her mouth not leaving my manhood as she gently strokes me. My hand goes to caress her blonde hair as I watch her play with me.

"I love it, Dolores... let me... return the favor?"

She raises her head, smiles at me, then rolls to the side, onto her back. She manages to remove the rest of her dress in the process. I roll up and move myself down between Dolores' legs. I haven't forgotten the wonderful oral to completion she gave me last week; it's only fair I try to return the favor. My mouth connects with her sex; she lets out the most delightful moan.

"Oh... Grant..."

"Yes?"

"Just like that, please."

"Yes ma'am."

I dive in to her shaven sex and give it my all; her trembling starts to rise quickly, my actions as much as my presence exciting her considerably. She thanks with me ever-increasing sounds of satisfaction, moaning my name, positive words. She eventually grabs my hair and keeps me between her legs with stiff hands. I roll my tongue against her slit, pushing it inside her hole, licking and kissing to the best of my ability. She starts to shiver from the stimulation, then starts to emit a low growl. I carry on.

"...Grant... yes... this is it... right there," she pleads.

I hit the mark; the climax spreads through her like electricity up her spine. She trembles beneath me, holding my head tight, then letting it go as the release winds down. But I don't give her time to recuperate; I climb on top of her, bringing our sexes together. She's already so wet; her taste lingers in my mouth. Mindful of her reaction, I slide my manhood inside her. She moans hard as I push it as deep as it can go. I stay immobile inside her for several moments, watching her face fill with desire and delight.

"How does it feel?" I ask.

"Amazing."

"How does it feel to fuck a third member of my family?"

"So brilliant," she says.

She giggles a bit.

"I was gonna say I would miss your father's dick, but yours is... equally sweet."

"And my mom? How long has it been since you were together?"

"Years..."

"And would you like to have sex with her again?"

My question remains unanswered; I give a few thrusts inside Dolores, forcing moans out of her sweet mouth. I repeat the question.

"Yes..." she finally answers.

"What would you like to do to her?" I inquire further.

I start thrusting regularly.

"I'd love to join her... in the shower... get on my knees... taste her delicious pussy..."

"I'd love to see that," I goad her on.

"Stick two... fingers inside her... as she tries to hold on..."

"Oh! I can so picture that..."

I'm moving hard between her legs; she seems to almost be ready to come again, so I don't interrupt for anything: I want her to have this second quick orgasm. In fact, I decide to add to the narrative.

"Imagine her face, rising with ecstasy as you probe the pleasure out of her..."

"Grant... oh! You're gonna make me cum again!"

"Hold nothing back."

She doesn't. This time, I have a great view of her face as she reaches her climax with me pounding into her; I slow down. As she recovers this time, she puts a hand on my face.

"You're so naughty."

"Thank you."

She looks away for a moment.

"Would you like me to... visit Jane sometime?"

"Only if that's also your desire."

"I do miss... my best friend," she comments. "But right now, what I want is for you to come inside me. And I know just what position will work best."

She pushes me off of her, then gets on her knees in front of me, her ass to my front. I rise up and connect our sexes once more, plunging deep into her moist opening. She drops her head onto the bed as I rummage inside her, then go for the kill. I pound her from behind with intense passion, my hard shaft seeking satisfaction inside her body. She lets me indulge completely as I hang on for dear life, until the inevitable release. Sweet moans from her accompany my ride to bliss; I spend myself voicelessly inside her loins, then let out a few choice words.

"Fuck... yes... urrggh..."

I remain buried in her for a moment after that, her warmth under me so soothing. She pushes me out of her, rolls me onto my back, then proceeds to put my shaft in her mouth, sucking up whatever's left, cleaning me at the same time. I moan hard for as long as her mouth remains on my cock. When she pulls away, I sigh deeply.