Castillo. Day four. Friday.
I arrived in my native town on Monday, for my father's funeral. It was a quiet ceremony the next day, and an even less eventful visit to the notary. When I arrived, I didn't want to be here, but not for the reasons that appear obvious. My discontent had little to do with my father's passing. We weren't close. We had nothing in common (as far as I knew). No, as much as I love my mom and family, I did not want to return because my childhood here, while not bad per se, was not fun either. Even my teenage years left a bitter taste in my mouth. I can't think of any specific experiences other than the constant cloud of doubt that permeated my existence back then.
However, my opinion of Castillo has changed entirely since Monday. I'm even considering moving back, letting go of my apartment in the city, maybe even settling back into my old room at my mom's house.
Apparently, it's all because of an intricate ornate ring I inherited from my father. It's affecting me and others around me, and so far, I can't say that I don't enjoy the ride.
I wake myself up on Friday morning; I stir from bed and stretch, then head down the hall. Because I hear no other sounds in the house on the second floor (I do hear my mom down in the kitchen), I strut out of my room naked and enter the bathroom down the hall. I go about my business, then jump in the shower. My mind wanders to the day's endless possibilities, and I must admit I don't even know where to begin.
The obvious place to start would be with my new librarian friend, Mary Winston. She's the only person that's in on my secret, and I have sworn her to secrecy. Given what I experimented with Pauline Walker, my neighbor, I feel I can trust that Mary not to spill the beans about the ring, or about my father's request to find his estranged daughter Jessie. Of course, if Mary had found anything relevant, I'm fairly certain she would have contacted me, so perhaps she is not the obvious choice after all.
I also have the possibility of seeing Olivia again; I had a wonderful time with her two nights ago at the local park. I'm certain she would be eager to see me, and I must admit that I wouldn't mind another moment with her.
I can't expect any time with Pauline until next Monday; her husband is coming back during the day and their weekend will be booked. I hope Pauline makes the best choice for herself; I think it's leaving her husband since she's not happy, but she worries about the impact on their kids. I guess I can't fault her for caring.
And then, there's always the option of spending time with my sisters, but I'm still wrapping my head around yesterday's morning stunt. As much as I enjoyed it (and I did, I must admit to myself), I feel I should take some distance from them, if only to assess how I want to deal with further intimate encounters with them. Lying naked on Stacey's each, my sisters on each side of me while I was jerking was probably the most intense moment of the week so far. I adored it, but I also must remind myself that it would be easy to take things too far there.
By the time I've processed these thoughts, I'm out of the shower and drying myself. I wrap the towel around my waist, in a looser fashion than yesterday, then head down the hall to my room. As I near my door, the one for my sisters' room opens and I see Heather, the youngest, race past me towards the bathroom, followed closely by Stacey, hot on her heels.
- Don't you dare! Stacey screams.
Heather obviously gets there first, but Stacey manages to wedge herself between the door and the frame, Heather trying to close the door on her.
- Hey! Stacey yelps.
I pause and stare at them; Stacey's in her panties with her night camisole on; I don't see Heather anymore since she's inside the bathroom, but she was in her traditional PJs. I take a moment to stare at the ongoing conflict between them, unsure of its nature. Neither of them is letting go of their issue, whatever it is.
From downstairs, I can hear mom working on our breakfast in the kitchen. When we were young, and this kind of dispute occurred, she would run up and fix it. We're older now so she trusts us to deal with our issues on our own. However, it's obvious to me that my sisters won't make peace, for whatever reason.
I resolutely walk down the hall back towards the bathroom. Not long ago, I might have been self-conscious at being seen like this by them - but that modesty has flung out the window since yesterday, when they saw me naked in their room, and watched me masturbate to completion as they pressed their bikini-clad bodies against my arms.
- What's going on? I ask.
Stacey turns her head to me, her body still trapped between the frame and the door.
- She started it.
- Didn't!
- I don't care, I say in a calm voice. Heather, open this door, please.
Almost instantly, the struggle ceases; Heather pulls the door open and Stacey pushes in, pushing Heather back against the stall in fact.
- Stacey, don't do that, I calmly say.
She pauses as well. That's when I'm reminded of the power of my words; I tried it out to stunning results yesterday at Pauline's. I wonder if that's why their compliance manifests so quickly.
- Stacey, please sit on the bath side.
She grumbles but carries out my request. I have one sister to my right, one to my left. From this angle, and because Heather only buttons once on her top, I can clearly see the line of her cleavage. Stacey's camisole goes higher but she has stronger curves. I indulge in the sight for only a moment, then turn my attention to the problem at hand.
- What's the issue? Stacey first.
- We had an arrangement about using the bathroom. We alternate. And she's not keeping up her end of the bargain.
- Is that true? I ask Heather.
She's clearly at fault and her face shows it. Still, I inquire as to her reasons for breaking the agreement.
- Well, Stacey cheats too, you know.
- I do not!
- How does Stacey cheat? I ask, motioning for Stacey to let Heather finish.
- For instance, she uses all the soap, or shampoo. She doesn't replace the towels, and the floor is all wet after she's done with the shower!
I turn to Stacey and I know it to be true as well; Stacey generally doesn't pick up much after herself.
- Listen, you two are old enough not to pick this kind of fight. Fair is fair. If Stacey should go first, she should go first.
- There! Stacey quips.
- But that's not all. Stacey, when you make a mess, you pick up after yourself.
I think of the mess she cleaned up yesterday and I grin; I don't think they share my recollection because their faces don't change.
- So... is this solved?
- Yes, Stacey says. Sorry Heather. I just got mad.
- I... got mad too. I'm sorry.
- Good.
A light turns on inside my head.
- Now hug it out.
They look at me, then each other, then rise to their feet and hug, arms wrapped around one another; I smile.
- Now kiss! I add with a tone of humor.
They turn to me and snicker, throwing their tongue out. But then, out of the blue, they do lock lips for a moment. My eyebrows twitch at the sight and I feel a slight tension between my legs.
- Everyone's happy, I say. Let me get out of your hair Stacey. You too Heather. Come on.
We both leave the room; I notice I don't hear the click of the bathroom door lock as I walk out; I have to resist the urge to go back and watch Stacey shower. Heather walks with me to my door.
- Thanks for that.
- I did nothing special.
- But you did it. Thanks.
She leans up and kisses me on the cheek, then heads to her room. I sigh, then head into mine and get dressed.
Mom's breakfast is plentiful and delicious; I eat like a man starved for days. Mom smiles at my appetite.
- Always a sign of good health and humor, she states.
