This story is continued from a previous chapter.
*
I consider myself to be an exceptionally stable and rational person, but the next day following our encounter was hell. My thoughts were racing, swirling about in a random and counterintuitive manner, an experience I was rather unaccustomed to. I couldn't stand it and I was determined to settle the matter as soon as I could.
Where to start? Ashley was my girlfriend Kay's sister for fuck's sake. Did I really let that happen last night? I knew I did, but I still couldn't believe it.
There were so many things to consider, so many shades of gray. I hadn't even come to terms with what we had done, exactly how bad was this situation? Kay knew of and tolerated my overly affectionate relationship with her sister Ashley. We'd grown even closer after the three of us had moved into the apartment together. Kay never said anything.
I'm sure she realized what was going on between Ash and I. Well, I mean I'm sure she knew we were close. I'm pretty sure Kay had no idea Ashley had given me a hand job and I had unloaded on her face last night. No shade of gray would make that right.
Yet, Kay never tried to intervene between us. Was she complicit in this inevitable encounter? I could never convince myself of that, but it went through my mind over and over. Maybe I was just trying to transfer blame.
Where was the line where we had crossed over into improper? The massage had lasted almost an hour. Dripping precum onto Ashley's bare back without her knowing was certainly creepy, but wasn't it harmless so long as no one found out? I didn't know. When did Ashley see what I was doing? Certainly by the time she was jacking me off onto her face the line had been crossed. It seemed pointless to expend thought on the matter, but for some reason I kept asking myself that question.
Plus we hadn't exactly had sex according to most folk's definition. Where did a 90 second hand job land on the scale of improprieties? Best 90 seconds of my life, that was certain, but I digress. Is it possible we could get off on a technicality? Something along the lines of I hadn't cheated without having intercourse? Seemed like a pretty thin argument.
Did I even regret our encounter? Could I really be that sorry about it if I knew I would do it again every time?
The real killer however was trying to figure out what Ashley going through. She was probably a mess. She had fits over something as simple as choosing which shoes to wear.
I really had a deep, deep affection for the girl. All along since I'd met her, the lust and the love were jumbled up. At one point last night, after the pretense had been shattered, I had intended to say that I outright loved her. It wasn't a lie, I really did. I loved them both. That I faltered and said nothing instead was just how I was though; and besides, the level of rampant hormones coursing through me last night were staggering.
I've always been protective of Ashley. Sheltering her from mean boyfriends, consoling her through rough times, shoveling her car out of a snow bank; you name it, I did it for her. Just because I'd cum on her face last night was no reason why I should stop trying to protect her. In fact, it was quite the opposite. I wanted more than ever to help her.
We hadn't spoken after she had scampered to the bathroom to clean up. She'd snuck straight off to her room and we hadn't seen each other since our abrupt parting last night. What would I say to her? How do you even begin to approach this?
Some pillar of mental fortitude and stability I was. I hadn't even gotten around to dragging my ass out of bed yet and I was exhausted from all the chaos in my head. Kay had gone off to her early morning shift as a waitress. I was alone with my thoughts but soon I'd have to face the oncoming day.
The first item of business this morning was the shower. We only had one bathroom in the apartment. As a matter of practicality, I often left the door unlocked while I showered and Ash would come in to finish getting ready before heading out to her job. Nothing had ever transpired before. I was always behind the curtain and we wouldn't even talk usually. Of course it was yet another source of ongoing sexual tension between us, but up until now we'd never done anything like last night's tryst in the TV room and maintaining a staid atmosphere in the shared bathroom just seemed normal. Mornings in the bathroom with Ash were pretty routine.
I was in there as usual and I expected that she would have already vacated the apartment for the day. Nope, I heard the customary knock-knock and then she entered as per usual.
Should I acknowledge her presence? I punted and remained silent. I'd let her re-establish contact if she wanted. She said nothing, and I said nothing, and the opportunity slipped past. The plastic shower curtain may as well have been a brick wall.
