Twins Ch. 02 - Gymnasium

Riley's car rolled to a stop before a run-down building, the concrete facade etched and pockmarked by years of experience. A cracked and faded sign hung above the entrance. If she hadn't known what to look for, she would have missed the word 'gymnasium' written in pale letters nearly lost to the fog of time.

"This is the address." The driver glanced in the rear view mirror, an unspoken question in his eyes as to whether she wanted out in such a... colourful part of town.

She was a few minutes late, and two cars were already out front. Monica's white Mercedes confirmed she was in the right place. The adjacent parking space held a beat-up chevy that could easily belong to Sasha. She nodded to the driver, who let her out.

Timid steps carried her to the entrance, whispering through red and golden leaves strewn across the sidewalk. A note was taped in place above the knob, written in Monica's precise and flowing hand. Her initials. Just the sort of thing she had come to expect from Monica, and it stood out amongst the surroundings like a beacon.

She passed through the door. After leaving the autumn chill it seemed warm, almost like a sauna. Were all gymnastics halls kept so hot? Did they even call them 'halls'? Riley wrinkled her nose. It smelled like an old gym bag.

The foyer was dim, lit by the feeble red glow of the exit sign behind her and indirect white light that spilled from a doorway far to the right. Even in the gloom Riley could tell that the building's interior was equally run-down as the outside. What was Monica thinking, bringing her here? The place made her skin crawl.

A babble of voices mumbled through the open door. Riley tip-toed across the hard floor in silence, drawing near.

"... It's been thirty minutes. I have other things to do, I'm outta here."

Riley faltered at Sasha's harsh tone. How bizarre to hear her voice again, after being apart for so long. And disappointing that things turned out like they did.

She wanted to get along with her sister. Well... that was a colossal understatement. Seeing her again for the first time at the house kindled memories of shared sleeping arrangements made awkward and a shyness dressing around Sasha exacerbated by the approach of puberty.

The memories had nudged something loose in her mind - a thing glimpsed in dreams, but never acknowledged. She'd suddenly wanted more than to just 'get along'. And then Sasha had opened her mouth and ruined everything.

Monica sounded frustrated. "We've already put this meeting off twice. There are stipulations related to this delay you should be aware of, so I'd recommend you stay to hear them."

"What does that mean?"

"I'll tell you both once Riley arrives."

Riley used the pause in conversation to enter the illuminated room, a cavernous box filled with gymnastics equipment.

She knocked on the door frame to announce her presence and smiled at Monica. "Hi guys, sorry I'm late. The gate's been acting up at the house, and I had to let the driver in myself."

Sasha's silent glare made her want to turn and leave the room. Was it something she'd said?

Even Monica looked annoyed... as she could. She'd known her for nearly half her life, but most of the time she was impossible to read. "Riley, punctuality is important. I trust this won't happen again?"

Riley's vow to do better lacked conviction, but was enough to earn a sharp, almost military nod from Monica. "In that case, let's get started. There are two main points of business to address today," she said, and held up a finger. "One. Eight days have passed since our first... proctoring session at the house."

Riley recalled the culmination of that 'session' and an icy warmth crept up her neck. Sasha glared at Monica but seemed otherwise unaffected by the mention of their shared experience.

Monica, unfazed by the heat of Sasha's gaze, continued. "Per your mother's will, any delay longer than seven days between sessions necessitates the implementation of a time limit to achieve your respective goals."

Sasha looked furious. "How. Much. Time?" she asked, each syllable truncated and hostile.

"From tonight, you have six weeks to complete your challenges."

A jolt of surprise caught Riley in the solar plexus. "Six weeks?"

Sasha's scowl deepened. "Any other surprises we should know about?"

"Quite possibly, yes. Your mother wrote the will as a smart contract, with some clauses revealed only as certain conditions are met. In this case, I assume she was concerned that long delays between sessions would allow independent study, thereby subverting her intent to have you achieve your goals co-operatively."

Riley wore a grimace but smiled inwardly. Mom had known her so well - she had planned to do just that once she found out what her challenge was. This was a bit like playing chess with her from beyond the grave.

It was her turn to make a move, to test her mother's foresight. "Couldn't we still hire someone to teach us, instead of working together?"

Monica scanned through text on her phone. "That would be allowable, but you're unlikely to find someone else on such short notice with the availability and motivation you two share."

Dammit, Mom might be right. Riley would have to make some calls later to see if it was a bluff, but for now she'd play along.

"What about me?" Sasha's voice rose. "I can't afford to take the next six weeks off work to play Mom's game."

Monica had an answer ready. "Your mother's estate has set aside a stipend to pay for your living expenses should this clause come into play."

"There's no way they'll give me the time off..."

"If you complete your challenge, you'll never need to work again."

That got Sasha's attention. The anger bled from her face and she nodded absently, as though to herself.

"And you, Riley?" Monica asked.

Riley considered her situation, not for the first time since Mom died. She had her high school diploma, but no marketable skills or experience doing anything useful. The time limit wasn't a deal breaker by itself, but what exactly was she signing up to?

"Can we talk about what my challenge is, first?"

"We can." Monica gestured broadly at the equipment, "I'm sure you've noticed your surroundings. You may not be aware, but your sister is an accomplished gymnast and qualified instructor. She will be training you to complete a Level 2 USAG floor routine. To my satisfaction."

Riley looked to Sasha. "Is this good news, or bad news?"

Sasha's head wagged and she shrugged. "Depends on your flexibility. I can teach anyone to cartwheel, but it takes time to limber them up."

Riley sighed, relieved to bring something to the table. "I used to do yoga. That helps, right?"

"Doesn't hurt. But I think Proctor Monica is still holding back."

At the mention of her name she looked up from her phone, apparently ready to reveal the next source of awkwardness. "Indeed. I should mention that any training you do here, and the routine Riley will eventually perform, must be done without clothing."

A pregnant pause allowed the girls time to digest this turn of events. Sasha was the first to protest. "You can't be serious..."

"Why would that be necessary?" Riley asked, confused.

"It's like the plot of a porno..." Sasha fumed. "A bad one."

"Is there any other way?"

Monica weathered the storm of disapproval. "I have no leeway to deviate from the instructions in the will. Your options are unchanged from our last meeting. You may accept the terms, or walk away."

A silent battle raged inside of Riley. Her shyness and poor body image fought with the memory of Sasha riding the vibrating chair at the end of their last 'proctoring' session. She recalled Sasha's closed eyes and slightly open mouth, face tilted toward the ceiling. The liquid ease of her hips rocking back and forth. Riley felt a tingle between her legs, an itch that begged to be scratched.

"I'll do it," she said, then added, "for the money," to curtail any suspicions that Sasha or Monica might have about her motives.

Sasha's eyes widened, and then narrowed. Riley's pulse quickened, a part of her terrified that Sasha had made a connection between Riley's swift capitulation to the terms of Sasha's challenge, her lingering glances that night, and her sudden acceptance of this latest condition.

Riley braced for the accusation that had plagued her since puberty. 'Lesbian!'. But Sasha just sighed, a long elaborate exhalation.

"Fine. I'll do it, too." She caught Riley's eye. "For the money."

They would need to get serious, now. As they locked eyes the distance between them evaporated, and for just a second, Riley imagined what it would be like to share this look while laying next to her in bed. Reaching across the mattress to run her fingers through the short hairs at the back of her neck and then burying them deep in her blond pixie cut.

The fantasy evaporated and Riley kicked off one boot, then the other onto the cushioned mat. Her nimble fingers released the buttons on her oversized woolen sweater, starting at the top, and working her way down one by one until the garment slid from her shoulders and puddled at her feet. The fallen sweater revealed a peach-coloured t-shirt. And no bra. Dammit, of all the days to be lazy when dressing.

Riley pushed her embarrassment to the side and looked up with a defiant stare. Now, what?, She asked without a word.

Monica cleared her throat and stepped in between them. "This gym may be used at your convenience. As Proctor, I will oversee these sessions, checking in occasionally to ensure that the rules are being followed, and otherwise nearby." She nodded at them and then left without another word.

Riley whispered silent thanks to Monica for taking her leave. The only thing more awkward than stripping in front of your angry fraternal twin sister in the pursuit of money was doing it with your deceased mother's best friend watching.

Best get on with it, then. The eerie silence left in the wake of Monica's departure was broken by the jingle of Riley's belt as she unbuckled, followed by the soft pop of the top button on her jeans and the brief record-scratch of her zipper. She worked her pants down past her hips and they joined her sweater on the floor, allowing her to step out of them and reveal beige satin panties that she hoped weren't visibly wet through the crotch.

Riley had thrown down the gauntlet. Despite the warmth of the gym, she shivered. Hard nipples pushed into the thin fabric of her t-shirt, and she caught the subtle widening of Sasha's eyes.

To her credit, Sasha seemed up to the challenge. A graceful flick of her arms brought her hooded sweater over her head and sailing to the ground, and she kicked off a pair of baggy track pants. Underneath, she wore a tight fitting white tank top and low cut white cotton underwear.

Time stopped for Riley in that instant as she took in Sasha's scantily clothed form. Her eyes lingered on broad, square shoulders before dropping to athletic thighs. Her body was toned, but feminine. Riley's favourite type.

Time resumed a slow crawl while Sasha turned her back to finish undressing. Riley stood mesmerized as her sister hooked her fingers beneath the hem of her shirt and drew it upwards, knotting her muscular shoulders and tracing two perfect lines down the length of her spine. Before Riley could catch her breath, Sasha had her thumbs in the waistband of her panties and was dropping them without ceremony in a flash of white skin. She turned back to face Riley, an arm across her C-cup breasts and a hand covering the juncture of her legs.

"Are we doing this, or what?" Sasha's expression was stern and appraising.

Riley hesitated, feeling inadequate in front of her sister. Where Sasha was lithe and sturdy, Riley felt boyish and skinny. But then, why did it matter? Sasha would never see her as anything but her nerdy twin sister, anyways. Released from the burden of caring, she drew her arms into her t-shirt and shrugged it up over her head, exposing her small upturned breasts. Then, before she could have any second thoughts, she yanked her underwear down and stepped out of them, placing her hands on her narrow hips.

"Huh. Wasn't sure you had it in you." Sasha said. She was looking at Riley, studying her body in a way that felt more clinical than sexual, as though weighing their chances of completing the challenge. "What do you know about gymnastics?"

At Riley's blank expression was all the answer she needed. "Ever taken dance?" Sasha asked. Riley shook her head.

Sasha pressed her palms to her face and shook her head. "Six weeks, Riley. You mentioned yoga... show me your downward dog."

Eager to prove her worth, Riley dropped to her hands and knees, and then pushed her butt into the air, somehow forgetting she was naked until she felt a draft cross her moist lower lips.

Embarrassed, she began to come out of the pose, until Sasha spoke. "Hold," she said, voice ringing with the authority of an experienced teacher. Riley renewed her best down dog as Sasha began to circle, examining her form.

"Knees straight," she said, and Riley tried to obey. She was out of practice, and the heat of the room made her work hard to maintain the pose.

Sasha circled behind Riley, who trembled with the knowledge that her sister could see parts of her that nobody else had. Sasha seemed oblivious to Riley's reaction. "Can you lower your heels?" Riley shook her head, not willing to trust her voice around her ragged breath.

"Okay, you can release." Sasha said. Riley collapsed to the floor, panting in sweet release.

Sasha gave her a few minutes to catch her breath and composure. "You're limber," she said, "but like spaghetti."

Riley wasn't sure what she meant. That she was straight until she got wet?

Sasha gave her a sidelong glance. "I mean you're soft. You need strength to get in and out of poses and control the position of your body during the routine." She walked to the large square mat in the centre of the room. "The Level 2 floor routine is something most gymnasts master by the age of ten. It starts with a pose of your choice, then a cartwheel, backward roll to pushup, split jump, handstand, candlestick and bridge kick-over."

Riley cocked her head. "Right. I've heard all those words before, but never in the same sentence or in that order."

Sasha nodded. "I'll demonstrate."

Riley watched Sasha run through a thirty second routine of poses and relatively simple moves that Riley knew she could never hope to replicate in her own. She was graceful and fluid and... beautiful. The room's heat drew a flush to Riley's cheeks and a sheen of sweat to her forehead.

Riley's shoulders sagged. "You make it look so easy. But it's impossible for me to learn that in six weeks..."

"I don't think so. Mom was pretty sharp. She must have known that you did yoga, and I taught gymnastics." Sasha was silent for a moment, and a look of realization crossed her face. "Maybe she kept better tabs on me than I thought."

Riley didn't know if that was true, but was happy for Sasha to think so. "Could be," she agreed. "Mom was the type to keep a lot of secrets."

Sasha nodded in silent agreement. She found the nearest tumbling mat, sat, and gestured Riley over.

"Here's an exercise for opening up your hamstrings and back," she said, and extended slightly parted legs out in front of her. "Have a seat, and put your feet against mine."

Riley did as asked. They clasped hands and began to rock back and forth, pulling against each other. Sasha was able to touch her forehead to the ground when she leaned forward, but every time Riley tried, she caught a glimpse of pink lips and her breathing faltered.

"Go ahead," Sasha said. "Look. Get it out of your system."

"What?"

Sasha stared across the gap. "You're distracted. Gymnastics is as much a mental sport as it is physical. I need a hundred percent of you out there on the mat, or we have no chance of getting you ready in time." She blew her bangs out of her eyes and leaned back onto her elbows, legs splaying wide to reveal a small patch of blonde hair above her otherwise smooth slit. Riley strained with the effort of of trying to look away, but couldn't pull her eyes off the enticing gap between her legs.

Sasha's legs closed without warning, and Riley raised her gaze to meet the detached expression written across her sister's face.

"I don't know what your deal is, and I don't want to know. Keep it to yourself for the next six weeks, and we'll never speak of it. Which won't be hard, because I won't ever see you again."

A stabbing pain shot through Riley's chest, and faded just as quickly. She'd done a poor job of hiding her infatuation, so of course Sasha noticed it. And of course she didn't reciprocate.

Riley's mouth opened in her defence, but Sasha cut her off. "Don't want to know. I'm here for the money, that's it. Now, are you going to be able to do this?"

Riley hesitated. "I don't know..."

"An honest answer. But not the right one. Think about what you'll do if we don't succeed. How will you live?"

"I can find a job if I have to. I'd figure it out."

"Maybe." Doubt infused the pair of syllables with a taunt. "You've never worked a day in your life, so you don't even understand what's at stake. What you'd stand to lose."

Sasha studied Riley in silence, a mocking half-smile unfolding across her face. "If not money, what other incentive that would keep you on task?" Sasha's legs parted an inch.

Riley's back stiffened. Was she suggesting what it looked like? Best play it cool. "Don't worry about me. The money is more than enough motivation," she said, eyes betraying her as they drifted down once again to the widening gap between Sasha's legs.

Sasha nodded, noting the direction of Riley's gaze. "I understand."

Feet together, Sasha's legs drifted apart, inch by delicious inch. As they approached the mat, the tendons at her inner thighs stood at attention and stretched her closed lower lips until they unfurled like a delicate flower.

Riley's sharp intake of breath filled the silence. She cast a hungry look at Sasha and rubbed her thighs together, igniting a dull ache that had loomed since the night she witnessed Sasha ride a vibrating chair. The ache she tried to avoid thinking about, lest she start something she couldn't finish.

She released a long breath, focusing her will to suppress the nagging itch between her legs. For now.

"I'm glad we have an understanding. What's next?"

"Let's keep it simple. When you do well, you get rewarded."

"Okay..." Riley drawled, "what kind of reward?"

Sasha seemed to contemplate the question. "I'd rather not commit to anything. But judging by the way you looked at me that night at the house, you won't complain."

Riley slumped into a defensive posture. Well, it was official... she had no ability to play it cool around someone she liked. Then her face brightened... how could she turn that offer down?

"Okay. I can do this."

Riley's enthusiasm must have impressed Sasha. "You know what? I believe you now."

***

The next three hours were torture. Sasha put her through dozens of poses, routines, and exercises until her body was jello, pooling on the gymnasium floor as she tumbled out of an aborted lunge.

Sasha stood above her, eyes averted from her sweaty, naked form. "I think we're done for the night."

Riley's subtle writhing stilled. "Oh? How did I do?"

Sasha's hands compared imaginary weights. "Not bad, not good."

Riley bolted upright. "Are you kidding? I did everything you asked! What else do you want?"

Sasha gestured for her to sit back down. "Calm down, Riley. You did fine, but I want to manage expectations. After a session like this, I'd be willing to..." she palmed her chin and looked up at the sky as she drew the word out, "...Stay in any pose you want, within reason, and you can look for five minutes."