"And this will do the trick?" I asked.
"Yes, yes, absolutely," replied the wizened old lady.
Lamia Lightbringer was the town's "witch." Not a real witch, of course. Nobody believes in that kind of crap for real, and that wasn't even her real name. I found out years ago her actual name was "Gertrude Sommerstein," but I wouldn't be caught dead letting her know I knew that. She was the sole proprietor of the "Wytches Workshoppe," a run-down, shabby store selling all kinds of tinctures and potions. Everything from homemade medicine to all-natural hair dyes.
Of course, that's not what she was famous for. At our school, she was famous for creating the very best stink bombs and itching powder. The latter was what I was there for, that day. Since I had recently turned eighteen, and was in my senior year of highschool, this April Fool's was likely the last one I'd spend at home, and I was determined to pay back Dad for all the years he managed to best me.
"How much is it?" I asked, holding the little packet between my fingers.
"Thirty."
"Thirty bucks?" That was far too much to pay for a one time prank, and I wouldn't have paid that much even if I had enough cash—which I didn't.
"Yes."
"That's way too much!"
"Take it or leave it, child."
"Don't you have anything cheaper?"
Ms. Lightbringer looked at me, head askew, in all her wrinkly glory. Nobody knew how old she actually was. As long as I've been alive, she was always just there, as old as she is now.
"Something, something, sure," she said after a while. "It's not the same but it's close."
"Like what?"
"A new recipe, child. It's my own, all of it."
"And it makes people itch?" You had to get used to her way of talking. She was odd, and so you always had to make sure to clarify things.
"I suppose it does. Gives someone an itch, sure."
The old lady was definitely batshit insane, but when it comes to the matter of her products, everyone knew they were reliable. They worked exactly as advertised, not more, not less. It was probably reasonably safe. At least, I didn't think she'd push something she knew was harmful. She had a reputation to maintain, after all.
"Is it dangerous?" I asked, anyway. Just to be sure.
Ms. Lightbringer giggled, and said, "No, no, it won't hurt."
"How much is it?"
"Five. And a story."
"A story? What do you mean?"
"Tell me how it works. How it feels."
"Uh, sure." I pulled my wallet out of my pocket, and retrieved a five dollar bill. "Here," I said, placing the note on the counter.
Ms. Lightbringer turned around, and pulled several small jars out of the giant cupboard. With her back to me, she was blocking my view of what she was doing. All I could gather was that it involved several of the jars, a metal bowl, and a flame. The air in the small shop was already bad enough, filled with dozens of dissonant scents, that I started to feel light headed. I was eager to get out of there, and when she finally presented me with a small glass container holding some sort of cream, I didn't want to prolong my stay.
"Thanks," I said, accepting the offering.
"Don't forget the story," she reminded me.
"I won't," I promised absentmindedly, already halfway out of the building. As soon as I stepped through the door, I took a deep breath of refreshing April air, and got in my car.
***
Dad worked as a data analyst in a big office, and always complained about having to sit in a chair all day. To counteract his sedentary job, he would jog around the neighborhood for half an hour every day, as soon as he got home, almost like clockwork. Today, I counted on it.
In my parents' bathroom, I pulled the small glass jar out of my pocket, and inspected the contents. Originally, I had planned to spread the powder out over a dry towel, and then place it ontop of the stack, but that wouldn't really be doable with a cream. If Dad noticed a wet spot on the towel, he probably wouldn't use it anymore.
I looked around the room, hoping to find something useful, when my eyes fell on the shower. It was a large, tiled shower with a glass door. Much better than mine. Inside a basket attached to the wall were a few bottles of various shower products. I rummaged through them, until I found what I was looking for: body gel. Fortunately there was only one of them, so I didn't have to worry about picking the wrong one.
I twisted off the cap, exposing the large, normally hidden, opening. Then all I had to do was get the cream in there. Ms. Lightbringer's cream wasn't flowing very well, and I had to use my finger to scoop chunks of it out of the jar, and into the plastic bottle.
After stuffing about half of it into the bottle, I wondered if it would even work, or if it was going to be washed off right away, and decided to save the rest for later. If it didn't work, I'd at least have some left over to try again. I screwed the top back on, and replaced the bottle in the basket.
Then my finger started to tingle, and I cursed myself. I should have used gloves to handle the cream. I had been so preoccupied with thoughts of my Dad itching all over his body, I didn't realize my mistake until it was too late. I turned on the tap, and carefully scrubbed my hands with soap.
Instead of helping, it only spread the problem. I felt the light prickling in both of my hands, and wanted to kick myself for being so dumb. It wasn't actually that bad of an itch, it was more like one of my hands had fallen asleep, and it was just about to wake up. At least I knew it would work in the shower, and knowing what Dad would be going through the same thing only made it sweeter.
All I had to do was wait for him to get home.
An hour later, my hands were still itching, and I couldn't concentrate on my homework at all anymore. I went into my bathroom, and tried again to scrub my hands with soap. The warm water seemed to help a bit. I lifted the little stopper, and let water fill the sink. With both my hands submerged in the tepid liquid, I felt much better.
Downstairs, the front door opened. It was too early for Dad to be home, and I wondered who it might be. Footsteps raced up the stairs, and through the open bathroom door, I saw my older sister come into view. She was already attending college, but still lived at home with the rest of us. In order to earn some extra cash on the side, she worked as a line cook in a restaurant. As far as I knew, she was pretty good at it.
Frequently, she'd come home, still dressed in stark white uniform, with leftover food she'd made. It always tasted delicious. Except that's not how she looked then. A large, red stain, too bright to be blood, covered the front of her uniform.
"Jesus, what happened to you?"
"I don't wanna talk about it," she said, tersely. "What the hell are you doing?"
I looked down, and realized how silly I must look, holding both my hands in the sink. "Uh, I'm...washing my hands," I replied, lamely.
Olivia rolled her eyes at me. "Is it gonna take much longer? I really need a shower to get this mess cleaned up."
"Maybe."
"Whatever, I'll just use the other one," she said, and stalked off in the direction of my parents' bathroom.
The implication didn't dawn on me until I heard the door shut. I raced to my parents' bedroom, and knocked on the bathroom door.
"What?" came the muffled voice from inside.
"You can't use that."
The door opened a gap, and my sister's head poked out. I could just make out her bare shoulders, and realized she had already undressed.
"Why not?" she demanded.
"Because it's Mom and Dad's."
"So?"
"They won't like it," I said, although I knew neither of them cared about that sort of stuff. I just didn't want to tell her about my plan, she'd tell Dad right away.
"What, you gonna tell on me, baby brother?" she said derisively, laughed, and shut the door in my face.
Well, if she was acting like that, she may as well get a dose of Ms. Lightbringer's newest product. Maybe that would teach her not to be a bitch. In the bathroom, the shower turned on, and I heard the water spattering on the tiles. She must definitely be naked in there right now, about to step into the water.
The tingling in my hands intensified, and seemed to radiate warmth through my entire body. I wondered what my sister looked like at that moment, water raining down on her, running all over her fit body. I'm not a pervert or anything, but for some reason I couldn't help myself. As quietly as I could manage, I twisted the doorknob, and pushed. It wasn't locked, and I carefully opened it just a crack.
Olivia hummed quietly, but I couldn't see her just yet. I opened the door another inch, until I could make out the shower cabin. Through the glass door, I had a perfect view of her backside. Her ass was spectacular, nice and round. Clearly visible tanline. Of course, I'd seen her in a bikini before, and this was barely more, but it felt much more intimate. If only she were to turn around.
As if she had been listening to my thoughts, she shut off the water, and turned sideways to the basket, digging around in the contents. Her sideboob was magnificent. Her breasts weren't that large, maybe a B cup, but they made up for their size with perkiness.
I felt myself getting a hardon looking at her wet, nude body, and my hands reacted almost on their own, unzipping my pants. My cock was already hard, and I started softly stroking myself.
Olivia had found the spiked bottle of body gel, and squeezed some of it into her palm. She ran her hand all over chest, and I watched the lather forming on her curves with great pleasure. The fact that she'd be itching all over pretty soon only added to the excitement, and I pumped harder. Olivia spent quite some time with her hand between her legs, but I couldn't tell what she was doing. Was she playing with herself, or was that just part of her routine? It struck me as odd, but then again, I had never actually watched other people shower.
Just as she began rinsing off the suds, my penis started tingling. God damn it. I had never even considered that the damn cream would spread from my hands to my cock. My excitement evaporated almost instantaneously, and I closed the door with a faint click.
The whole situation seemed really stupid all of a sudden. I regretted buying the cream from Ms. Lightbringer, but of course it was too late now. And on top of that, I couldn't believe I had actually gotten a hardon spying on my sister in the shower. That was completely unlike my normal self.
Back in my bathroom, I pulled out my cock, already flaccid again. I couldn't see anything wrong with it. At least it wasn't turning purple or something like that. The damn cream would have to wear off at some point, I'd just have to stay calm until then.
I went into my room, and sat back down at my desk, trying to get my mind off of the situation by resuming my homework. It didn't help much, I couldn't concentrate at all. This had been such a stupid idea.
The shower turned off, and moments later Olivia walked through the hallway with a towel wrapped around herself. She moved hurriedly, not even acknowledging my existence, and disappeared in the room next to mine, closing the door behind her. Hopefully she'd be feeling the effects of the cream right about now, and I wouldn't be have to be alone with my discomfort.
After a few minutes, I heard Olivia's voice through the thin walls. What was she doing? I closed my eyes, and images of her in the shower flashed through my mind. Maybe she was lying on her bed, naked, running her hand all over her body trying to ease the itching. My cock hardened again, and it actually alleviated the prickling somewhat. The sounds coming from the next room were unmistakable now, it was definite moaning.
Curious—and horny—I crept towards my sister's bedroom door, and put my hand on the knob. Ever so slowly, I twisted it, and carefully cracked the door open. Before I saw her, I heard her moans, accompanied by wet shlicks. I opened it wider, and my eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets.
Olivia was lying on her back on top of the towel, both legs curled up. Her hands were between her legs, rapidly plunging a dildo in and out of her pussy. Her pussy! I couldn't believe what I was seeing. It looked slick with wetness, her labia gripping the dildo tightly, as it slid up and down.
I stood there transfixed, unable to take my eyes off of my sister's vagina. My own erection was pressing against the front of my pants.
