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Anna And Riley Ch 01 03

Anna And Riley Ch 01 03

by aoife_from_ulster
19 min read
4.62 (5300 views)
adultfiction
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Anna & Riley Ch. 1 - 3

True love takes time to find

Written by Aoife

A/N - As I challenge myself in a new category as an author, I would like to introduce to you a fictional romantic but sapphic and semi-incestuous story. Anna and Riley are half-sisters, finding love along their chosen life paths.

I hope you enjoy this story told from each person's perspective. I truly hope the flashbacks and memories that Anna and Riley share do not interrupt the flow. Once the background is set, we move forward with chapter three in the present day. This has been a while in concept, creation, writing, and finalizing.

I understand this type of story isn't to everyone's liking and I respect that. If this isn't then thank you for stopping by and I understand if you do not read any further.

I must thank Nicole for her support, love and recommendations while assisting as my editor. Any mistakes you find belong to this old woman, not Nicole's. My eyes aren't what they used to be.

Your comments are welcomed.

Chapter One

Anna

Many of my fondest memories as a child were of running with my father and playing outside with a few friends. My love of running races came from him, and my desire to help others came from him as well. I can remember back to when I turned ten; I wanted to run like him, well not exactly like him. You see he ran with the assistance of a prosthetic device, a blade, just for running. Around the house most days he wore his prosthetic leg and a few days he used his crutches without his prosthetic.

I teased him saying it always made him faster. However the thrill and freedom of being outside as the morning sun rose as we would finish a run, there was nothing better. That special time was ours together, the others didn't run.

There are days when I am out for a run; I can still hear the 'tap' or 'tink' sound on the street or sidewalk. It is as if he is still running with me. Those happy times are muted now, most of the time I smile through the pain of missing him. Everyone dies at some point; it's the cycle of life. I just wish I had him in my life a bit longer than the years I had with him.

When I entered junior high school, I made the track team, as a freshman I ran with the varsity team, almost unheard of. He was so proud of me. He did his best to attend as many track meets as he could. He told me later in life how he was sad knowing I was at a track meet and he wasn't able to be there. I knew there were times when his job came first.

Then there was the day when I cried my eyes dry. The day he met me at the finish line as I completed my first marathon, they were all there, Father, Mother, Jordan, and Riley.

My half-sister Riley wasn't outside as much. Her nose was usually buried in one of our father's computer books. If not in a book, she was smacking her fingers away at the keys on his old laptop. I studied, but not like her. Other times when her face wasn't stuck in a book or on the laptop, she was in the basement. The music would be blaring and she would be following along on her drum set. Oh! The drum set! Hell, it took up half of the basement.

I really didn't need to study all the time; I just remembered stuff after reading it. Mother had me tested as she thought I was some kind of brainiac, the tests showed I had an eidetic memory. I did study hard for finals and big tests like the MCAT and USMLE.

I needed to do my best to get into the United States University of Health Sciences or Georgetown Medical School.

I don't know if she knew what fun was, Riley that is, except when she was drumming. If she didn't have her nose in a computer book, fingers on the keyboard of a laptop, she was carrying a set of drumsticks. That all changed a few years later, I will let her tell that story.

Every once in a while, I would see her nose in one of Jordan's fashion magazines. I will say for as much as she was a wannabe rock star and a tech geek she was stylish. She dressed nicely as a young lady. Her mom, Jordan made sure of that. That changed as the years went by, not in a horribly bad way. When her toy showed up the stylish woman tended to dress down at times. At others, she was sweet, sexy, and distinctly beautiful.

I will just say and get it out of the way. I had

the best

childhood anyone could ask for. It was always loving. My father and my mothers, yes I said mothers, as in two, were always open, loving, and kind.

I have

the best

family life, ever. Let me share with you a few things that made it the best ever.

First off, Riley and I weren't allowed to argue or fight, that was forbidden. If there was an issue, and there were a few, we would sit like mature and intelligent girls talking it out, I miss those days.

Second, we were taught at a very young age that we would be looked at differently. And that it was okay to be different. I remember the day they sat us down. I remember it like it was yesterday. We sat and listened to them explain that life throws things at you. You have choices, you can run and hide, or you make a decision.

Many times in my later life, this conversation came back in my memory reminding me it was okay to be who I am, just a little 'different'.

Third and almost the most important, others wouldn't understand our family dynamic. We would be asked why we had a father and two mothers. We didn't know any different. It was always the norm to have my father, mother, and Jordan as my parents.

It was in the middle years of grade school when we came to understand that my father having two wives wasn't normal. Technically they weren't married, they all lived together as husband and wives. Again, yes wives, our mothers were lovers as well. To the outside world, it was strange but we saw it as no big deal to have three parents.

Lastly, I never knew my father's parents; he rarely spoke of them. Mother's parents, my grandparents, Grandpa Dave, and Grandma Shelly were the best to Riley and me. Some of my favorite times as a child were going to Cleveland and visiting them. We always had a wonderful time. I loved their house and spent so much time there when I eventually moved to Cleveland, I moved in with them.

I learned as a young adult, my father would always smile wider when they were together. It always made him happy to see us all together. Every once in a while there was another woman mentioned, her name was Mary. Father would sometimes look slightly sad. Grandpa Dave was there with a smile and a clap on the back. Grandma Shelly was there with a smile and a quick hug.

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In reality, I did find it strange Grandma and Grandpa were the same age as my father. I knew my mother was much younger than my father but never really questioned it. There was never a real reason to.

***

In so many ways I am mostly like my father, I am not like Katy, my mother, nor I am not like Jordan, my other mother. They say I am more like my father. Mom would tell me as I grew up and went through school and life how much I was like him, even down to how I took and drank my coffee straight up. "Jet fuel" my father would call it.

When I entered my sophomore year of high school my father wanted to have "the conversation" with me.

No, not

that

conversation. Mother and Jordan sat both Riley and I down years ago. I am three weeks older than Riley and was expected to start my periods first, well that didn't happen. It was a few months after that conversation when Riley confided in me that she got her period. I confided in her that I didn't think I was a normal girl; I hadn't got my period yet.

Mother had me see a gynecologist but she explained that is how life is at times. There was nothing abnormal about me outside of the fact that I was athletic and thin. The hormones could be underdeveloped or less active due to my body weight due to running all the time. We weren't concerned.

Riley was like a clock, I was as sporadic and unknowing as the path of a tornado when it came to my cycles.

So, the conversation my sophomore year of high school, father sat me down in his home office wanting to chat. It was just us, he asked me what I wanted to do as a career and in my life. When I think back on that conversation, I still laugh recalling his words, "Dearest Anna, you can't run for a career, at least I couldn't." He giggled and knocked his knuckles on his fiber and titanium leg smiling.

I knew where this was going. He had just celebrated his sixty-sixth birthday. Mother had warned me this was coming which frankly is a lot for a fourteen year old.

I turned the conversation to a serious note when I said. "I love science and want to be a doctor, a surgeon, and help soldiers like those who helped you."

His eyes grew wide and his smile flattened. "Father, I want to be a doctor; an Army doctor."

I saw his chest rise and he took a deep breath. He was never angered, he was always calm.

"Anna, darling, you know I support you but you can do so much better. I am not saying no to the Army but I wouldn't think that is what you would want to do."

He leaned closer to me and took my hands in his. "You don't want to move away from me, do you?"

And

that

was his M.O. when he wanted something. This is what he did, a nice soft guilt trip. He wasn't making me feel guilty, he was softly telling me 'no' but still loving me as much as he could and I was okay with it.

I didn't want to move away from him but I needed this. I wanted this in some form or fashion but I also needed my father. Yes, I am a daddy's girl.

"But father, the good work I could do!" I exclaimed.

"You can do that and so much more here in Maryland. This is your home, with us, your family." He looked so sad then said, "I understand but I just don't want you to leave me while I am still here."

Damn him! I was immediately guilt ridden. I kissed his forehead and gave him a hug telling him I would stay the course and remain here focusing on Georgetown, George Washington, Johns Hopkins, or Mount St Mary's for my undergrad. He scoffed at me when I did not mention the University of Maryland.

I joked and asked. "Father, do I look like a turtle?" We had a wonderful laugh. I loved when he and I laughed together.

That conversation solidified the next steps in my life that made me realize I wasn't so different. I just wanted him happy and proud of me. My grades were top-notch. I was on a path to undergraduate school focusing on Biology or Pre-Med.

Deep down inside, I knew what he wanted, he wanted me close to him and home like Riley would be. I nodded knowing it would break his heart if I moved away.

I did though, I broke his heart when I moved to Cleveland. I blame myself. All these years later, I still blame myself.

***

It was in my later high school years that a major part of my life changed. I realized that I was

really

different and I do not mean that in a negative way. Learning I was different had a calming effect on me. This realization and calmness was when I admitted to myself that I was gay.

I tried, I really did. I went on three or four dates but boys did nothing emotionally or physically for me. I looked at girls differently, they were beautiful, stunning, they were soft, they were gentle, not hairy, rough, or handsy. I looked at the one girl in a special way.

Yet, I hadn't told anyone. I just kept focused on my athleticism, music, and school. Yes, admittedly, I was in the closet.

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As a child growing up, I loved music like my father. I took lessons and decided that I loved playing the flute, I was drawn to it. The softness, the ability to move me as I played, and those who are listening just floating on air. I learned to love reading sheet music and playing for my father, mother, and Jordan. I mostly loved playing for Riley. When she would smile or compliment my playing, my heart beat faster, it was difficult to breathe and it hurt. It really hurt.

In high school, Mr. D. Roland Pichi, our high school band director, told me I had a natural talent for music. No one ever knew what the D stood for; of course, we all just called him Mr. Pichi.

In the band, I was the second chair flutist. I didn't want the first chair, I liked my seat. From where I sat I had a good view of the trumpet section and one Lisa Marie Fisher. A beautiful woman with the longest and curliest red hair I had ever seen. I daydreamed of kissing her lips and running my fingers through her hair.

Anyway, I digress; the band was making plans for its annual trip. Riley was in the percussion section, a really talented and phenomenal drummer, had moved her way up to the snare drum and was the section leader, outplaying the previous leader. Football season was over and it was more about the symphony band, the orchestra band, versus the marching band.

I enjoyed the orchestra and symphony bands. Riley told me she preferred the marching band. There was a trip upcoming with the marching band. We, should I decide to go as I was on the fence, would march in three parades in Walt Disney World during the Spring Spectacular season.

Spring and the Easter season for Disney started in February, this I always found, and still find, curiously odd. However, on the last Friday of February, our marching band, some 350 strong, which didn't include the Rangerettes, left for Orlando for three nights of musical performances.

We had a nice trip, seeing "behind the scenes" of part of Disney was different but seeing a bit of early Spring and being in Florida for a weekend was also good. Riley and I shared a room which wasn't too far out of normalcy for us. However, I saw something related to her that trip. Something I never really noticed before, Riley is absolutely gorgeous, breathtakingly gorgeous. This realization caused my heart to hurt, even more.

***

When college came, I was focused, hyper-focused, some would say. In my undergraduate work and while in medical school, I really didn't date. If the truth be told, I was hardnosed and not interested. Who I was interested in wasn't available. It seemed that they were off with someone else or so I suspected.

However, I have physical needs as does every other human on the planet. I needed to test the waters per se and ensure that my physiological analysis was correct.

Seeing how I couldn't have who I wanted, I sought out to find relief and well yes, I had a narrow minded view and needed someone who looked like her. I needed a thin, not rail thin, nicely chested, slightly arrogant, and mildly funny woman to make me sexually satisfied. The attitude and body characteristics were more important to me than feelings.

Was I being psychopathic? Maybe, but again this was a need and a desire. This wasn't love, it was sex. It was nothing more, nothing less.

Now the problem, remember we either took it on or sidestepped it, well I did both.

Living at home threw a curveball into this entire challenge, I didn't need to go dragging some woman into the house, privacy was completely needed. That meant that I would need to focus on a peer, a student who lived in the dorms or had their own apartment, and then face the music as I did the walk of shame when I arrived home.

Now with a seemingly well-thought out plan in place, I was able to make my way to a club. The nightclub that I learned about and decided to go to, which I learned about through the web, catered strictly to my admitted lifestyle. This was the first, a first time for everything, and potentially finding a woman to 'engage with'.

I in for a surprise! Who knew I would see three ladies I knew from different classes I took. I had no earthly idea. Frankly, it was calming to see them in the club. One of them was Brianna, she and I had a biology class previously.

As a junior in college, I was not a virgin, well yes I was, but I wasn't

that

naive. I am not worldly when it relates to the club scene and dating. I was clueless about the attire women wore and the level of 'engagement' that occurred out on a dance floor.

I was sitting at the far end of the bar, I had on a pair of jeans, sandals, and a nice blouse. I would honestly say it was the nicest blouse I owned at the time. I was minding my business, looking and frankly dreaming and enjoying some eye candy when Brianna walked over to me.

She was taller than the average woman, her skin a lighter brown and her hair was super curly. She looked like nothing I wanted in a woman; nothing at all. There was something in her eyes. There was a look of understanding, sincerity, and focus. Dang, she was looking at me!

As she approached, she smiled and offered me a halfhearted wave. I returned her smile and waved back to her, and then nodded my head to the barstool, which was empty next to me.

For the next hour, we enjoyed some general conversation about life and the on goings of college life in Washington DC. She reminded me she was on a physical science track as she wanted to be an Occupational Therapist. Her goal was to assist the elderly and how they can live a better quality of life.

I was super impressed with what she was saying. At one point I felt her lean over towards me and just touch my shoulder against her. Suddenly there was an electric shock that ran through my body. Suddenly, part of me started thinking I was cheating on her as my eyes wandered looking at others, even though I didn't know how she felt. I didn't know if she would ever be interested in me.

When I finished my second glass of beer I admitted to her that I would need to take a cab home from the light rail station, as I still lived with my parents. She smiled wide, leaned forward, and whispered in my ear. "There was no need for you to go home tonight." She had plenty of space and her apartment.

At that point, we really had not even talked about physicality or spoken deeply about sexuality but this was the open invitation I needed. I felt her touch the back of my hand and then heard her whisper again that she was hopeful I took her up on her offer.

I offered in a reply, "I don't do this but there is need and desire. It's not love, and for that I apologize."

Brianna smiled, leaned closer to my ear and whispered. "I love to fuck, don't worry I will even drive you home so there is no walk of shame."

As we walked to her Georgetown apartment, and as the next two hours unfolded, I learned several significant things about making love to a woman. I learned a ton even about my own body. I thought I knew my body but Brianna brought me to a sexual height I hadn't known. She coached me to enjoy her offerings. She taught me to love not only her body but mine.

Yes, after a few hours in her apartment, which I later found out was funded by her father as a poke at her mother and stepfather, Brianna taught me the more erotic happenings while making love to a woman.

She parked her car two houses up from my father's at my request. I leaned over from the passenger seat and softly kissed her, thanking her for an amazing evening.

True to her word that night, I was to call her when I had desire again. She winked when she told me I was a great pillow princess and that I had the sweetest nectar she had enjoyed yet. At the time I had no idea what a pillow princess was.

Over the next year, I saw Brianna four times. I was feeling guilty and I had a nagging feeling I was neglecting my studies, my goal of my education. Let alone the smartass comment from Jordan one very early morning when she heard me come in.

Getting caught once, doing the walk of shame was enough for me.

***

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