Present Day
I hated returning home to an empty apartment on a Friday night, particularly when winter was approaching and it was dark by the time I walked through the front door. Shutting the door behind me, I switched on the lights, throwing my keys and smartphone on the coffee table, laying my laptop bag down on one of the chairs. The first port of call was the toilet for a piss before grabbing a beer from the fridge, sitting back on the three seater lounge.
Flicking on the television, it was the usual inane news items, sighing to myself as I sipped at my beer. Picking up my phone, there were a few messages from friends, those I'd kept close after everything that happened. Even a couple of friends I'd kept since primary school now distanced themselves from me. I didn't really blame them. Some people don't like hanging around ex-convicts.
I didn't regret what I'd done though. The cops had understood why. My lawyer had understood why. Even the judge, when handing down his sentence, had understood why. My family all insisted she was a slut when they learned what happened, and those she was with deserved all they got. Some would say going to jail because of some slut was stupid, but when I was beating down on them, the men, not her, it felt nothing but righteous. Hell, the only reason she didn't cop a beating is that my mother and father had raised me to never raise a hand against a woman. Thing is, until that day, she'd barely angered me even briefly. We'd been happy. Or so I'd thought...
Until that moment in my life, I'd never been violent. Whenever someone wanted to fight me at school, I just turned and walked away. Most of the time, it was some little punk wanting to prove himself. It wasn't worth the possible suspension or expulsion. Some called me a coward but I had nothing to prove against idiots. Nights out in the city could always end in violence due to guys wanting to prove how tough they were. Once again, I just walked away. It wasn't worth the arrest record. That's not to say I couldn't fight. My grandfather was an ex-soldier and taught me unarmed combat, in the event I did need to defend myself.
Shaking my head of the memories, I flicked to one of the sports channels as Friday Night Football would start in an hour. Flicking through my phone apps, I found the number for the local pizza joint. Better than anything from the Hut or Domino's. I was a regular there, chatting away with the sweet girl on the phone, who always flirted with me when I called. Half an hour later, my pizza arrived with some garlic bread and a bottle of Coke, knowing I'd use that later as a mixer with some spirit, probably bourbon, though if I was in the mood for scotch...
The game was ten minutes into the first half when the intercom buzzed. Groaning to myself, as I wasn't expecting any company, and all I wanted to do was curl up with a bottle and spend the weekend drunk, I got up and walked to the small panel.
"Yeah?"
"Hello, big brother! It's your little sisters!"
I took a moment to blink and take a couple of breaths. If there were two people on the planet who loved me unconditionally, no matter what I did, it was those two. I was going to ask 'What are you doing here?' but that would have been rude, and I knew they were there for me anyway. I buzzed them up, hearing both of them thank me. Opening the door, I waited for them to appear.
As they approached me, I couldn't help smile. It was almost unfair they were my sisters as they were so damned beautiful, intelligent, kind and caring, and not the hot mess their big brother was. The almost mahogany red hair and blue eyes came from our mother, who even when in her mid-fifties, was still gorgeous. I took more after my father, with brown hair and dark brown eyes. I also towered over both of them, being around six-two while they barely topped out at five-four.
Did I say they were beautiful, gorgeous and could have been on the cover of magazines?
"Mark!" they both exclaimed, and before I knew it, I was being cuddled by two excitable women. They were five years younger than myself, twenty-eight to my thirty-three, though I was nearing thirty-four. Cindy was the older by around thirty minutes, something she always like to tease her twin about. Danielle, though she preferred Dani, always called herself that as it meant their names rhymed.
Leading them inside, I offered them a glass of wine, as I always kept a couple of bottles around considering they were frequent visitors, sitting in between them on the three-seater lounge. I offered them a slice of pizza before I sat back, muting the television, glancing to either side of me. I received a sweet smile in return from the both.
"What are you doing here?"
"Let me guess," Cindy replied, "You're watching the footy, eating a pizza and drinking beer, but you're thinking about drinking some bourbon or scotch, then you'll pass out in bed later before spending the weekend feeling sorry for yourself."
Shrugging helplessly, as they knew me well, both of them smiled at me but there was no missing the sadness in their eyes. "It's been one year since you moved out of our apartment, two years since you got out of prison, three since your divorce, and five since that afternoon," Danielle stated, "Isn't it time to move on?"
"I have moved on. I have a good job. Have my own apartment. A few close friends."
"But no woman in your life, Mark," Cindy retorted.
"I find it very difficult to trust people nowadays, particularly women. Pretty much you two and our mother are the only women I trust in the world."
"You married a slut, Mark," Danielle suggested, "That's on her, not on you."
"Doesn't change what she did to me, the fact I walked in on them, the fact it went on for so long, the fact the others involved were supposed to be my friends."
"You're coming out with us tonight, Mark. No more moping around your apartment every weekend," Cindy pretty much demanded.
"I do go out! And I go out with you most of the time."
"Well, the local pub for a few beers with the locals is not going out when not with us. You're coming out with your gorgeous twin sisters to have fun. You remember what fun is, right?"
I grunted a non-committal response, which made them giggle before they cuddled into me. Glancing either way, they looked up at me with those big doe eyes they'd perfected over the past twenty-five years. From a very young age, they'd had me wrapped around their fingers. I would have done anything for them.
Finally, I sighed as I knew I wouldn't win. "Okay, let me have a shower and get changed."
"Want some company?" Cindy asked.
"We could help scrub your back," Danielle added.
They were always teasing me like that, though it had certainly increased since I got out of jail. Well, a lot of things had changed which will be explained later. They were always telling me how handsome I was, that I was a good man, despite my conviction, and they never had a problem telling me how much they loved me. I loved them just as much in return. If it wasn't for them, I dread to think what my life would be like nowadays. Probably far lonelier, being honest.
"Wear something nice, not just jeans and a t-shirt!" Cindy called out as I was about to step into the bathroom.
"And nice shoes!" Danielle added, "But your stubble is perfect. Makes you look handsome."
Stepping under the hot water, I couldn't help smile for a moment, though when I closed my eyes as hot water ran down my face, I found my mind wandering back through the past thirty-three years of my life.
*****
The Past
My mother was twenty-two, my father twenty-four, when she fell pregnant with me. I wasn't planned but I wasn't an accident either. They were married, in love, and knew it was going to happen eventually. They already owned their own home, my father a certified electrician, my mother working part time at a supermarket, a part-time housewife at the same time. What I knew is that my father worshipped my mother, and that my mother loved my father more than anything.
When I was born, I was immediately the apple of his eye, and my mother quit work to raise me. For five years, it was my mother and I during the day, then my father would come home from work and take-over. They were a real team, my mother looked after the inside, my father the outside, though he wasn't one of those 'old school' guys. I saw him hanging out the washing more than once, and he could cook a mean roast during the winter.
I was just starting school, my mother contemplating a return to part-time employment, when she discovered she was pregnant again. My parents were overjoyed and I was excited about having a sibling. Many of the kids at school had older or younger siblings. After a few months, my mother sat me down and explained two things, keeping it simple for a five year old boy.
"Mark, you have heard people say I'm pregnant?" I smiled and nodded. She took one of my small hands and placed it on her belly. "In my body here, life is growing. That's where you were before you were born. Right now, there are two little girls growing and developing."
"Two?" I asked.
"That's right, sweetheart. In a few months, you're going to have two little sisters."
My grandparents took me in to meet my sisters a couple of days after they were born. Mum smiled as my father lifted me up to sit on the bed. "Mark, these are your sisters. Cindy and Danielle."
I was in love almost instantly. Even at five years old, I felt that surge of responsibility that an older brother has for his younger siblings. And I was there for nearly everything. Their first step. Their first words. Their first laugh, which I caused. And there is no doubt that, by the time they were my age and I was ten years old, they utterly adored their big brother in return.
Through our years growing up, we rarely had issues. I think the slightly larger age gap actually helped. When I was a teenager, they were still kids. And though I could be a moody bastard at times, particularly when hormones were going insane, they still managed to make me feel better. They were peas in a pod, and I'd often find myself hugged by two precocious little girls whenever I was feeling down or stressed.
By the time I was eighteen, they were thirteen and heading into high school. I was finishing my last year, no intention of heading to university, as I had already organised an apprenticeship as a mechanic. I could have left after four years of high school, but my parents convinced me to get my Higher School Certificate, assuring me it was better to have that than just a School Certificate.
Once I turned eighteen, I started to date around a little more. I'd had one or two girlfriends through high school, but that was just dating, afternoon and evening's out that was all rather innocent, nothing more than going to watch a movie, bowling, miniature golf, or a cheap dinner. I worked part-time, so did make a little money, but not enough I could splurge.
I wasn't a virgin when I met my future wife, Simone. I sowed my wild oats for a couple of years. I didn't do one-night stands. Well, I lie. I had two and I just felt dirty afterwards. It had meant nothing and I guess I was one of those guys that wanted at least some sort of connection. I knew their name but that was about it. I was twenty when Simone came into my life.
She was a customer at work. I hadn't actually served her, though I had been the one that had given her a car a tune-up while replacing a couple of worn out parts. I hadn't spoken to her, but she'd seen me and must have been impressed. One of my colleagues, Paul, called me into the reception area, giving me a pat on the back and a smirk as walked behind the counter.
Offering her hand, she introduced herself. "I'm Simone."
Wiping my hands on my overalls, I smiled as I shook her hand. "I'm Mark. Pleasure."
"So, Mark, what are you doing this weekend?"
By this time, I was sharing a house with my best mate, Mike. We'd gone through primary and high school together. He was attending university, worked part-time, so I was doing him a solid by paying two-thirds of the bills. It's something a good mate would do.
"No plans right now."
"How would you like to meet up for coffee? Modern times and I wouldn't expect you to pay for dinner on a first date." Couldn't help raise my eyebrows at that. Heard enough stories about men being suckered into dates, paying through the nose, only to never hear from the woman again. "Why don't I give you my number and we can work something out?"
Offering her phone, I put my name and number in her contacts list. "I'll text you tonight," I said.
We made small talk as I settled her bill, giving her the occasional glance. She was certainly cute. Brunette. Brown eyes. Slim but with quite a chest on her. She noticed me looking at her and smiled sweetly. She knew she was attractive but wasn't flaunting it too much. Wishing her goodbye once we'd settled up the bill, she smiled and disappeared out the door, waving at me again as she pulled away. Walking back into the workshop, I received plenty of ribbing as they were aware she'd asked me out.
I texted her as soon as I'd showered and had dinner. After no more than a dozen texts each, she called me. We must have spent a couple of hours getting to know each other, feeling each other out, seeing how much we had in common. It was the first time I'd ever been approached by a woman so it was a little strange to me.
She only lived a couple of suburbs from me so we agreed on where to meet. Though the weather was cool, she was wearing a gorgeous skirt and blouse combination. I knew enough to at least wear my nice pair of jeans, a button down shirt and a good pair of shoes. I offered to pay for her drink, and also a slice of cake, settling into a booth and pretty much carrying on the conversation we'd put on hold the night before.
Simone was a year younger than myself at nineteen. Still lived at home as she was attending university studying a degree in some sort of business administration and management. Basically, when it came time to graduate, she wanted to work in the real estate business. She was certainly smart in addition to being attractive. Left me wondering what she saw in me. I had brains but I preferred working with my hands. I was a mechanic but had given serious thought into becoming a tradesman.
Was it love at first sight? I'm not one who believes in fairy tales, but the first time she took my hand in hers, there was that spark everyone talks about, and we exchanged a smile and a blush. But it was that first kiss that pretty much sealed it, holding her body against mine before she pulled away, asking if I'd like to meet up during the week.
We lasted a month before we had to give into our mutual desire and sleep together. She wasn't my first by a long shot but she admitted to having only had a couple of previous lovers, and all they'd done was strip her naked and stick their dick in, thrusting until they came. Therefore, the only orgasms she'd had were self-induced.
I might have been a twenty year old man, but I knew enough that pleasing your woman, and making her orgasm, certainly put your name in lights in their eyes. I took off each article of her clothing nice and slow, my fingers trailing across her pale skin, soft kisses following where my fingers had been. Her nipples were hard and poking out, desperate for some attention from my mouth, licking and nibbling at them, making her squirm and squealed.
Her legs were perfect, toned from her three to four visits to the gym a week. I wasn't one for feet, but even those were perfect, making her moan and giggle when I gently kissed and bit her toes. Kissing up her legs, she spread them to give me a view of her pussy for the first time, glistening in the light from the lamp next to my bed. She kept her hair nice and trimmed, and it was obvious to me how excited I now had her.
The groan she released when my tongue finally touched her was something that would have lived in my memory the rest of my life... I guess I still remembered, but it meant nothing now. I got her off a few times and it was quite a moment as she started to sob. I stopped and lifted myself up to cuddle her. That's when she told me.
"I love you, Mark," she whispered, leaning back enough so I could meet her eyes.
Never heard those words from a woman before, at least that wasn't my mother or sisters. I'd liked a lot of women. I'd lusted after woman. Women turned me on something fierce. But I felt those same feelings for her. I didn't hesitate in returning those words. She looked up and me smiled.
"Really?"
"I love you, Simone."
We proved our love by making it a few minutes later. It was the best sex I'd ever had in my life, making love with someone who I genuinely had feelings for. We made love all night, and I guess my best mate heard, as he had that knowing smirk on his face that suggested he had heard certain things during the evening. We had tried to keep quiet, and Simone wasn't too vocal at the time. That would come with experience.
After I'd seen her off outside, Mike was waiting for me with a cup of coffee. "You're going to marry her, aren't you?" he asked.
"What makes you say that?"
"She's the first woman who has stayed the night, Mark. And I saw how you were looking at each other. You're in love with each other. So... Will I be your best man?"
I gently punched his shoulder and told him to shut up, but I did so with a smile.
With Simone still at university, moving in together wasn't possible, and though Mike invited her to move in with us, I was just left believing that might be a little uncomfortable for everyone, and it certainly meant the only privacy Simone and I would have would be in my bedroom. We discussed our options and agreed to move in together once she'd graduated and started working. That's not to say she didn't spent plenty of time at my place. I'd met her parents, and though they were good people, not particularly receptive to me staying the night. I did so occasionally, but they were happy enough that she could stay with me most nights.
Graduating when she was twenty-one, she went straight to work, and within six months, we'd found a small apartment to rent. We'd already discussed the big events to come, such as getting married, buying a house, starting a family. But we agreed that she'd establish her career, though we'd get married and save for a house deposit.
Those first few months living together were bliss. Her parents loved me. My parents adored her. My sisters? By the time we lived together, I was twenty-three, they were eighteen. And they didn't like Simone. I was visiting the folks one weekend, Simone visiting her parents and siblings at hers, when they told me how they really felt.
"I've seen girls like her at school, Mark," Cindy stated, "She acts all innocent round you, but we've seen her type."
"What are you saying, Cindy?" My twin sisters shared a look. At eighteen, they had turned into beautiful young woman, younger versions of our mother. When they looked sad, I took a hand of theirs in mine. "You know you two can tell me absolutely anything."
"We don't trust her, Mark, and we just don't want you to get hurt," Cindy replied.
"She's done nothing to prove untrustworthy. I love her and she loves me." I pulled them into a hug. "I'm not going to say you're jealous, because you're my little sisters, but are you afraid of losing me?"
They both started to sob so I knew what it was about. "We miss you so much," Danielle whispered.
I hated when my sisters cried. I hated knowing I was breaking their hearts. And hearing them both sob as I hugged them nearly had my own tears falling. I kissed them both on the cheek. "I'm only a phone call away, and I try and visit as often as I can. But Simone will soon be part of our family too."
"Are you going to propose?"
When I nodded, Cindy pushed me away and ran to her bedroom. I called her name but she ignored me. Danielle gave me a sad smile before she followed her sister. Mum wandered out of the kitchen to find me kneeling on the floor by myself near the lounge. She helped me up and hugged me tight. Had to release a couple of tears.
"I hate hurting them so much but I love her, Mum. I'm going to marry her."
"They'll get over it, but your father and I know how they feel. They've been jealous the day you brought her home for the first time. They had you to themselves all their lives. Now they have to share you with someone." She leaned back and grinned. "When are you going to propose?"
"Our anniversary is next month. I'm figuring we get engaged that day, then we get married six months after that, therefore we can remember two anniversaries. She'll love that."
"My son is an old fashioned romantic."
"I do my best."
Simone accepted my proposal. I didn't particularly want to go with the old 'propose in a restaurant' thing, but we'd already talked about getting married so often, I knew she wasn't going to say no. Instead, she screamed 'YES!' and cried as I slid the ring on her finger. The sex we had that night left me so drained, I asked for an IV bag the next morning, which left her in fits of giggles.
Her parents and mine were delighted to hear of our engagement. I'd even been old-fashioned enough to ask for her hand. He replied, stating he'd be proud to call me his son-in-law. Then he hugged me and welcomed me to the family. His older brother gave me the usual speech that any older brother did. I'd done the same thing to the first boyfriend for each of my twin sister, warning them that if they broke their hearts, I'd break them. Her younger sister giggled and I knew she had a crush on me too.
We had agreed to keep our ceremony and reception small and simple, focused more on our future rather than splurging on just one day. Neither of us was religious, so we avoided a church wedding, with all the bells and whistles that entailed. It was a lovely spring day when we married. Her father walked her down the aisle. Simone was resplendent in her white dress. Mike was my best man, her young sister maid of honour. To my surprise, my twin sisters accepted the chance to be bridesmaids. They smiled throughout the day, but I could read their eyes. I could see the heartbreak.
The reception was fantastic. We danced and ensured we stayed sober so we could consummate our marriage that evening. In fact, we were upstairs in the hotel a good couple of hours before the reception was supposed to finish. I received more than one sarcastic question the next morning about where my wife and I had disappeared to earlier the previous evening.
Within a year, we'd put in an offer for a small three bedroom townhouse as she smiled at me, suggesting that within a couple of years, perhaps we could start filling the two spare rooms with little people. We were both making good money. I was now managing the mechanics workshop I'd started at, having completed night classes in management and administration. She was making progress as a real estate agent, our dual wages meaning we lived comfortably but not extravagantly, not that either of us worried about that. Our honeymoon had been a week on a Pacific island, soaking in sea, sun and a lot of sex.
I just had no idea that my life would implode within a few short years. My twin sisters had been right.
*****
Naturally, being the soul she was, Simone had a lot of friends, both male and female. I wasn't one of those knuckle-draggers who thought men and women couldn't be friends. I had a couple of female friends, not my sisters, who had been close to me for nearly two decades. One of her best friends was male, bloke by the name of Brian. He was a good guy. He certainly didn't treat me badly. Never showed any indication of being attracted to her. They'd been friends for years and I had no problem with it.
It was only a couple of weeks after my birthday that my life crumbled. I'd been feeling under the weather for a few days. I'd gone into work, but by the Wednesday, I was still feeling rough so I told the guys I'd be going home early.
Arriving home, I would have pulled up in the driveway, but my wife's car was there in the garage, the door still open. My immediate concern was that there were two others. Two cars I recognised rather well. One was of her best friend. Okay, no concern just yet. Maybe they were having lunch. I almost laughed at the thought, hoping it was innocent. But the fact the car of my best friend was also there hurt immediately. He had little to do with Simone. He was also married himself, six months earlier.
Opening the front door, it was almost silent except for sounds coming from upstairs. I recognised them immediately. I was a keen golfer and cricketer, keeping my clubs and cricket bat near the front door. Grabbing the bat, I headed upstairs with my bat in one hand, phone in the other, ready to record. I recorded for around thirty seconds before I snapped a few pictures. There was no doubt my wife was being fucked in both holes by her best friend and mine, leaving her mouth free to make plenty of noise.
Having recorded and snapped what was necessary, I strode in and aimed. My aim was perfect as the bat slammed into the balls of my best friend. He howled as he sat back, turning just in time to see the bat swing into his face. It was a sickening crunch, knocking him out as he fell onto the floor.
Simone screamed, leaping off her best friend. He noticed me just in time to shout, 'Oh shit!' as the bat came down right on his cock and balls. Good chance he wouldn't be getting hard anytime soon, slamming the bat into him a few times for good measure. Didn't quite knock him out, but he was crying and whimpering the entire time.
I stood there for a moment, feeling the adrenaline and rage coursing through my veins. I was on the verge of putting the bat through both their heads and just ending them, but that voice in the back of my head suggested I didn't want to go down for murder. Not for this skank. My future ex-wife wouldn't shut up. I would have aimed the bat at her next, but that alone would get me in a world of trouble, so I threw that against whatever was on top of the dresser. The only thing that stopped me from smacking her was that I wasn't a wife beater. I held out my hand. "Rings, bitch," I growled.
She held her hand to her chest. "No! We're married."
I stepped over an unconscious Mike and towered over her before leaning down. She fought me for a few seconds before she gave up. I grabbed her wrist, gently as not to leave a bruise, and easily took off her wedding and engagement rings. That told me everything, the fact she'd taken them off often. She started to sob as I stepped back to survey the carnage. The end of a marriage. The end of a friendship. I knew I was in deep shit, but feeling how I was in that moment, I didn't care what happened. Grabbing a bag, I packed a few things, looking far more calm than I felt. Heading to the bathroom, I dropped the rings in the toilet and flushed.
"And that's the end of that," I whispered.
Before I left, I called up my sisters. They lived together in an apartment. Cindy picked up, offering a cheery hello. She immediately asked me what was wrong when she heard my tone.
"You were right. Simone's been cheating on me."
"Come here right now, Mark. What did you do?"
"Well, neither of them will be having sex for a while. I haven't touched her, though right now..."
"We know you're not like that, and so do you. Leave now, Mark. We'll look after you."
Heading downstairs, I hopped straight into my car and took off. Half an hour later, thanks to traffic, I was parking outside the apartment block, not surprised they were waiting downstairs for me to arrive. After hugging me, they led me upstairs, ensuring I was sat down before offering me a beer. Asking if I had evidence, I showed them the film and pictures I had. I sent them everything as I knew I was in trouble.
I wasn't surprised that the police knocked at the door later that evening. Cindy answered the door, a pair of coppers walking in, standing before me. They introduced themselves before asking, "Are you Mark Johnson?"
"I am."
"Husband to Simone Johnson?"
"I am."
"Can you explain your whereabouts at around 2pm this afternoon?"
"Sure. I finished work early so I went home. I walked inside to the sounds of people having a good time. Heading upstairs, I found my wife fornicating with two men who were not their husband. After recording video and taking pictures, I departed and came here to visit my sisters as I discussed what I'd do next."
They knew I was bullshitting. "Mister Johnson, would you care to accompany us to the police station?"
"Am I under arrest?"
"Not at the moment but we would like you to join us for questioning."
Luckily a good friend of mine was a lawyer so I asked if I could call him. Seeing I was being cooperative, they nodded as I made the call, asking for him to meet me at Parramatta Police Station. Standing up, Cindy told me that she'd call our parents. Following the coppers outside, I slid into the rear seat, making sure I was buckled up, before they drove me to the cop shop
I was signed in and placed in a cell, telling me they'd question me once my lawyer was present. I was smart enough not to answer questions without one present. Not through experience, I was relying what I'd seen on television. The line between fact and fiction was sometimes thin.
They grilled me for a couple of hours. The only thing I lied about was smacking the two men. I'd flushed the rings, smart enough not to have kept her rings on my person, though I did hold up my left hand to show I still wore mine. When they mentioned her rings were missing, I just smiled and suggested she'd probably lost them while she was cheating on me.
"Look, all I know is that I entered my home to find my wife with two other men. I took video, took some photos, and after packing a bag, I departed to go visit my sisters."
I had no idea if they were going to immediately charge me or not. I was allowed to make a call, so I called one of the supervisors, letting them know I wouldn't be at work for a couple of days. I was detained for a couple of days as they made their enquiries. On the Friday, the door was opened, the copper stating my wife was there to visit.
"Don't want to see her," I stated, "Tell her to fuck off for me."
Having heard that I'd walked into my house to see my wife cheating, he nodded and shut the door. No idea how she reacted and I didn't really care. I was released on Saturday afternoon. I wasn't charged yet but the police made me surrender my passport and told me not to leave the state, and that their enquiries would continue.
Cindy and Danielle picked me up, both of them hugging me. My parents were there too, as my sisters had told them the whole story. Returning to their apartment, we gathered around the dining room table, each of us with a mug of coffee or tea. My father finally asked, "Did you do it?"
"Fucking oath I did it, Dad."
He nodded in understanding. "Okay. No-one at this table blames you, Mark. You walked into something that no husband wants to discover. Did you have any idea?"
"None whatsoever, but I was left thinking it wasn't the first time she's fucked either of them."
"I sent the pictures and video to his wife," Danielle stated, "I assume he won't have a home to return to. She messaged me back, thanking me. She passed on her best wishes to you too."
"Do you think they'll charge you?" Dad wondered.
"It's circumstantial. A 'he said, they said'. My lawyer can easily point out that the three can easily band together and make up a story. Do I have motive? Sure. Can they prove it? I guess we'll wait and see. Any magistrate will take into account the fact I walked into seeing my wife being... Well, I'm sure they'd take that into consideration, but I'll still do time for the fact I fucked them both up."
"We'll be telling the police you arrived at our place at least an hour before you actually did," Cindy said, "Dani and I will do anything to protect our big brother from that whore."
They were sitting either side of me, wrapping an arm around each, leaving a kiss on each forehead. "Thanks. But I think we should all prepare for this to go somewhere. They'll do their enquiries, and they will eventually charge me. I will also ensure I move my shit out of home to ensure we're separated. As soon as it hits twelve months, I'll file for divorce. Could be in jail by then but so be it."
My sisters cuddled into me tighter. "Hopefully you won't," Cindy whispered.
"Look, I know what I did with a clear mind. I wanted to hurt them both, and the only thing that stopped me doing anything to her is that I don't attack women and there's still that part of me which loves her. But after seeing what I did, there's no chance of reconciliation. With any luck, she'll file for divorce first. The only asset we have is the house along with a little savings. I'm just glad we don't have kids."
I heard through the grapevine of the damage I'd done. Mike had a smashed jaw, meaning he'd be sucking food through a straw for a while, and his groin region would require specialist treatment. His wife threw him out of the house the day he returned home from hospital. As for Brian, I'd broken a couple of ribs, his kidneys were not in a good condition, and he also had issues with his testicles.
My sisters pretty much demanded I remain with them, Cindy moving to share her room with Danielle. I told them I could just crash on the couch. To say they both stared me down into agreeing wouldn't be far from the truth. "What about, you know, dating and stuff?" I asked.
"You're more important right now," Cindy replied.
"Our big brother is hurting and we're going to look after him," Danielle added.
I returned to work though talked to the head office and explained what happened and the chances of me being charged. Summoned into headquarters, I ended up chatting with the head of my regional area. What surprised me is that I was promised, even if I was sent to the slammer, my position would be retained. Expressing surprise at that, he confessed something.
"I did a year when I was nineteen for something very stupid. We're a company that has no problem hiring ex-convicts, as long as your record remains clean going forward, you don't do drugs and you show up every day and work. You've been with us for a decade now, Mark. You were looking at a potential move up the chain. Going to prison will impact that for a while, but even the head honchos know your name. You've been honest with me so far. Did you do it?"
"I did," I replied with a nod.
"How will you plead?"
"Not guilty. The evidence they'll gather will be circumstantial at best. Being honest? I reckon I'll get a couple of years. Three people will claim I was there and attacked two of them. Do you blame me for how I reacted?"
"I think a lot of men would have done the same thing. A few probably would have killed all three of them in a 'crime of passion'. Guess no-one knows how they'll react to something until it actually happens to them."
I returned to work and kept to myself otherwise. I spent most weekends either with my sisters or my parents. Friends did get in touch, asking for my version of events. I was honest about everything except beating up on Mike and Brian. Anyone who wanted evidence was given it. Even friends of Simone expressed shock at what she was doing and apologised.
The good times didn't last. The cops eventually knocked on the door one afternoon after I'd arrived home from work. Opening the door, they didn't even have to say anything. I turned around with my hands behind my back. There is no such thing as 'Miranda Rights' in Australia, I was just cautioned about any statements I made before I was taken off to the police station yet again.
Booked into the cop shop a second time, my lawyer was summoned and I was interviewed again. I was informed that both Michael Jones and Brian Taylor had made formal allegations against me, and with the enquiries already raised, it was agreed that I would be charged with 'Assault Occasioning Actual Bodily Harm'. I was remanded in custody until I would face a Magistrates Court. I thought it would go higher, considering the charge. I was surprised that I was given bail. It wasn't cheap, but my parents and sisters put up the money immediately. I only spent another couple of days in the cells.
The only reason I did eventually tell the truth is that I got a great deal of joy from telling the story on the stand, plus I didn't want to be charged and convicted for perjury, which came with a maximum sentence of ten years. Thankfully, the prosecutor didn't try and paint me as some sort of thug but did state that it was an extreme case of violence.
Mike was called to the stand first. Under questioning from both sides, he explained how we'd been lifelong friends, best man at each other's wedding, the type of mates where, if we were broke and someone had five bucks in their pocket, they wouldn't hesitate in handing it over. He knew why I'd attacked him, the fact he was fucking my wife. Accused her of coming onto him, the fact she was nothing but a slut, that she'd been fucking around for half our marriage. He admitted it had been going on for a few months, starting before he got married. There was commotion behind as his wife leapt to her feet and called him a bastard.
"I'm sorry, Mark," he said, and the tears looked genuine, "We all ruined everything. I know it'll never be the same, but I hope that, one day, you might find it in your heart to forgive me."
I stayed silent as he walked away from the stand. It was only when he was next to our table that I said, "Mike." He turned to look at me. "She came onto you?" He nodded. "You could have said no, you know?"
"She was relentless, mate. She was flirting with me hard before you even married. I thought nothing of it because I was happily with my girlfriend but..." He trailed off and shrugged.
"Give it time, Mike. When I'm out of prison... But you're right, it'll never be the same. The trust is gone. You'll be lucky to be an acquaintance at best."
Brian was next. He was a little bit more of a smug prick. Kind of wish I'd done more to him, now that I thought about it. Always wondered if he was hanging around for his chance to slip it into my wife. He'd actually been sleeping with her even longer, and she'd lied about never having slept with him before, as she'd fucked him for a while before I started dating her, and she kept on fucking him until we were serious.
"I was always going to get her in the end, and it looks like I will," he stated.
His smug attitude disappeared when Simone actually scoffed from her position in the gallery and called him a delusional arsehole. She was sitting a couple of rows behind me, acting the supportive wife, despite the fact I hadn't spoken to her since I'd left for work that fateful morning, ignored any phone call from her, deleted any message, and she was told to go away if she arrived at my place of work, my sisters or parents place.
Simone was next to the stand. I hadn't seen her for the months between that afternoon and my first day in court. She actually looked good, as attractive as I could remember. But I couldn't read her. Whenever she looked my way, there was no anger but no smile either. What I saw was heartbreak. She knew what she'd done and she knew it was over. To my surprise, she didn't lie. Said I was the perfect husband. Was certainly never violent. Whenever we argued, I never raised my voice.
But she admitted to affairs. She'd been sleeping with Brian on and off before and during our marriage. As for Mike, she admitted to pursuing him as she thought he'd be a good shag in bed. Of course, she echoed everything the other two had said about the afternoon, that I'd attacked them both with a cricket bat. When asked if I'd attacked her, she said all I'd done was take her rings and flush them down the toilet. Otherwise, I hadn't touched her.
"I'm sorry," she whispered when walking by my table.
"We're getting divorced," I muttered.
She stopped for a moment before nodding and walking to sit behind me in the gallery. I was actually surprised she was sitting behind me as 'support' but I guess, still being married and, in her own mind, she still loved me.
I was then called to the stand. As soon as I was in position, I sat down as my lawyer started to question me. "Please tell us what happened on the day in question?"
"You mean from when I woke up?"
He made a gesture. "How about from when you got home?"
"Okay, that I can do. So I usually parked either on the driveway or in the garage, depending on who gets home first, my wife or myself. Unusually, on the day in question, I recognised two other cars."
"Do you know who those cars belonged to?"
"I did. Mike and Brian. Now, if it was just Brian, I would have been a little suspicious, I think any husband would about his wife being at home during the day with another man, particularly as that man is single, and I've rarely known Brian to have a girlfriend. But it was the fact the car of my best friend at the time was also in the driveway. Left more questions than answers."
"What happened next?"
"Well, I was obviously curious as to why those cars were in the driveway, and the fact my wife had left her car in the garage, with the door wide open, certainly had me feeling a little curious."
"Did you head inside?"
"Sure did." I glanced around the courtroom, meeting the eyes of my future ex-wife, the eyes of Mike, the eyes of Brian, then the eyes of the prosecutor. I made sure I smiled as I was about to confess everything. "So I head inside, and there is mostly silence except for the sounds of grunts and moans coming from upstairs. It was clearly the noises of people who were fornicating. I knew, in that moment, my marriage was over."
"Did you know it was your wife upstairs at the time?"
"I recognised the moans. At least there wasn't much talking going, or at least from her. Brian was trying to puff himself up, try and talk me down at the same time. Yeah, he's as delusional as Simone called him. Mike was rather silent at the time."
"So you hear your wife upstairs in a likely compromising position with two other men. How did you feel?"
"Pretty damn pissed off and angry, if we're going to be honest about it."
"What happened next?"
I looked at the lead prosecutor and smiled. "Well, the first thing I did was take my phone out and make sure I had both video and photo enabled as proof of her being a cheating slut. The next thing I did was grab a cricket bat and head upstairs." The prosecutor grinned for a moment before he realised this is what I wanted. I wanted them all to know she was a cheating slut. "I arrived at the door to my bedroom to see the bed I shared with my so-called loving wife being desecrated. Brian was on his back in her pussy, Mike was fucking her from behind in her arse."
I glanced over the courtroom to meet her eyes. "You always denied me anal yet you seemed quite adept at it. I wonder how long you've been taking it in the arse yet denying it to your husband?"
My lawyer cleared his throat. "What did you do next?"
"Snapped a few compromising photos. Shot a short video. I intended to share that with certain people. Mostly her parents and family to show just how much of a slut their daughter and niece is."
"Did you do that, Mark?"
"No, I'm aware of revenge porn laws. I did send it to my sisters simply to ensure the data wouldn't be lost should my phone be compromised, and uploaded it to Cloud to prevent any tampering."
"So you took video and some photos. Did you stop at that?"
"Hell no. I put my phone back in my pocket and took care of business. My best friend proved to be nothing but a backstabbing prick. As for Brian, I've been made more than aware of his true feelings for my wife. I've obviously learned more about their relationship that she kept hidden from me all these years. My own damned fault, to be honest. When you're in love, you generally have a blinkered view of certain things, particularly of the woman you want to make your wife. And, to be honest, I've always considered Brian a bit of a wet blanket. Knowing he's going to have trouble sexually satisfying a woman going forward does nothing but bring a smile to my face. Smug, little dick prick."
"Do you feel any guilt about what you did?"
"Nope. My wife is a cheating bitch, my best friend proved to a disloyal piece of shit, while Brian got what he deserved. I'll accept the sentence handed down gladly. The only problem with divorce laws in this country is that I can't have papers served at her place of work for being a cheating slut. Never mind, I'm sure the divorce will go through while I'm in the slammer."
"You think you should be jailed for what happened, Mark?"
"Well, I did assault two people. I did it with a generally clear mind. Granted, I was rather upset and angry about learning my wife was cheating on me, made worse that one of the other people was my best friend. Not sure if that'll be taken into account, but I arrived at my sisters' place fully aware that I was going to be in trouble."
"Why not just plead guilty?"
"Because I wanted all her family to hear what a slut my soon to be ex-wife is. I'm genuinely sorry to do it to her parents. They're good people and accepted me as part of the family, but it had to be done. I'm guilty of what I did, she was guilty of shitting on our marriage. If she's smart, she'll know it's over and simply move on."
The prosecutor didn't rise from his chair considering I'd just admitted by guilt. I was remanded in custody until sentencing considering I was guilty. I spent around a month in jail until I was to receive my actual sentence. I was surprised when I was allowed visitors. My sisters visited whenever they could, my parents did drop by. I didn't give my wife's name as someone who could visit. I was told she'd arrived to speak to me but was turned away due to not being on my list.
On the day of sentencing, the magistrate reviewed the facts of the case. He wasn't particularly happy that I'd plead 'Not Guilty' then admitted guilt on the stand, though he somewhat understood why and the fact I hadn't perjured myself was a good thing. The fact it was my first offence and that I didn't have a history of violence was in my favour. However, the fact I'd left two men seriously injured, despite what I'd discovered, did go against me.
He eventually gave me a maximum sentence of four years with eligibility of parole after two. That basically meant that I should be a good boy in jail and I'd only serve two years. I was given a chance to hug my family, my sisters in floods of tears. I assured them that I loved them and that they should come visit whenever they had the chance. Mum could barely get a word out as she hugged me. My father was just going to shake my hand before I found myself wrapped in a bear hug, slapping each other on the back. To my surprise, Simone's parents approached me.
"I'm sorry, Mark," her father stated, offering his hand, which I accepted, "We simply had no idea. To say we're disappointed..."
"Will you be going through with it?" her mother asked.
"My lawyer will file when the time comes. I can't remain married to a cheater. It's not just that. It's the years of lying. From the start, she lied to me."
"When you get out, please come and see us," her mother insisted, "Even if it's just one last time for a coffee."
"I'll do what I can."
And, with those final words, I was led away.
I was sent to a minimum security prison. My company was great as I had told them everything that transpired during the case. They assured me that I'd have a position to return to, though I might have to restart in the workshop, but as they had locations across the city and the state, I'd quickly find myself back in the same position. Honestly, that cemented the idea that I would show them the same loyalty and wouldn't be quitting them.
Saying the two years passed quickly would be lying, but being minimum security, and most of those around me were actually non-violent offenders, there were all sort of work programs and lessons so that, when released back into society, these ex-convicts might have a chance at building themselves a life again.
The only people I put on my visitor's list was my sisters, my parents and a couple of close friends I could still trust. My sisters visited whenever they could, without fail. The first couple of times, we barely talked as all they did was hug me and cry, though they soon got used to seeing me in a visiting room, keeping me up to date with everything.
"Simone keeps trying to contact us. Dani and I ignore her calls. Dad finally got her on the phone and told her to leave us alone, threatened her with a restraining and no contact order if she kept it up," Cindy explained.
"From what I've heard through the grapevine, most of her friends have deserted her, particularly those who are married or in long-term relationships. She's ruined two marriages with what she did," Danielle added.
"Is she okay?" I had to ask. They both smiled. "Look, I'm behind bars. Any feelings of love no longer exist, but I don't hate her either. How's she doing?"
"Goes to work, goes to the gym, spends every night at home. Barely leaves the house on a weekend. Her few friends suggest she's rather depressed. Mike's left the city, took a job down south. As for Brian, she's cut him out of her life, blamed him for influencing her." I scoffed at that. "Whatever the case, he's disappeared completely."
"Sucks to be her then. What about her parents?"
"Have little to do with her," Cindy replied, "Mum and Dad hear from them every so often, meet up for dinner. The spectre of your failed marriage and what happened hangs in the air, but they certainly don't blame you for reacting how you did. They're aware you probably won't want much to do with them when you get out."
"I'll meet up for a last drink, like I told them the day I was sentenced. How are you two anyway?"
They shared a glance and smiled. "We're just waiting for the day our big brother is released."
"No boyfriends?" Both shook their head. "Lovers? FWBs?"
"No to both."
"Really? Why?" Both of them shrugged. "I mean, you're not both still... um..."
"Of course not!" Cindy exclaimed.
"But we find most men don't measure up to someone else," Danielle added, "The most important man in our life."
"Dad?" I enquired.
"You, dummy!" Cindy retorted with a smile.
"You mean your soon to be divorced, currently serving a jail sentence, idiot brother?"
"Well, we did warn you about Simone," Danielle practically growled, "Should have listened to your little sisters about that one!"
"When you move out, you're living with us until you're back on your feet. No arguments." The fact both of them folded their arms and stared at me made me chuckle. "Are you going to argue, Mark?"
I held my hands up. "Okay, okay, I'll move in with you."
They both cheered as I found myself hugged again. At least I returned to my room with a smile on my face. Most of my fellow inmates knew when I'd had a visit from my sisters. It was the sort of thing that kept me going until the next person visited me, whoever it turned out to be.
I was a year into my sentence when my divorce was confirmed. She couldn't afford to keep the house, and as I was currently in prison, it was agreed that the property would be sold and that we'd split whatever remained. Other than that, we had no real assets except our savings account. I thought she would have cleared it out, but I later learned I had a transfer of a few thousand dollars into my personal account.
Simone did finally manage to get in contact with me by sending a letter. I was surprised how apologetic she was and the fact she took full responsibility. Claimed to still love me and she didn't want the divorce. She had intended to fight me about it upon my release but seemed to come to her senses and figured it was best she let me go.
I did write her back, wishing her well. As I said, I didn't love her any longer, but had no hate either. She was just another person on the planet. If I saw her on the street, I'd perhaps nod in her direction, might even give a polite 'Hello'. But there'd be no conversation. No sitting down to hear her excuses. Part of me would always be hurt and heartbroken now that the anger had faded. I thought we'd had a good thing, but all that talk about family, raising kids, living a long and happy life together, the vows we'd taken, they had all been empty words and promises.
Making sure I behaved like a model inmate, going so far as to help young offenders with their education, I wasn't surprised to find myself paroled after twenty-eight months behind bars. I was happy to leave but, I'll admit, I'd made some friends while I was serving time. Many of them were just down on their luck, trying to survive, but made a wrong choice along the way. Not every prisoner is a scumbag.
My sisters and parents were waiting for me as I exited the gates. It was a group hug, the three women crying while I think my father was doing his best to hold his emotions in check. Being kissed all over the face by my sisters wasn't entirely unusual as they'd never had problem showing their affection. I had walked out with only the things I had walked in with, so my sisters made sure I was driven by them back to their apartment.
I was a little surprised that a few old friends were waiting to see me. Lots of hugs and handshakes. No-one mentioned Mike during the couple of hours we celebrated my release. I would be on parole for a year with a strict set of guidelines of where I could go and what times I had to be at home. Of course, talk did eventually come around to my divorce and what happened with Simone. I told them I had no idea she was cheating me until I arrived home that day. She gave no indication of cheating. The sex had been as good as ever. She rarely had a night out with the girls. There were none of those signs that I'd read about when it comes to a cheating spouse.
One of my friends finally spoke up. "None of us knew," she admitted, "But when it all fell apart, we pretty much barraged her with questions until she gave in and confessed how she was getting away with it. The thing is, it was so mechanical. It didn't sound loving or with any emotional impact. Just a way for to unleash her inner slut. She didn't love Brian but it appears he had their trysts on video and was sort of blackmailing her. But she admitted that, after a while, she enjoyed getting away with it. As for Mike, they were as keen as each other to fuck. He told us that he felt guilty, but that your ex-wife was just too hot to turn down."
"What are you going to do now?" another asked.
"Return to work and just get on with my life. At least I've some good friends left and my family to support me."
After everyone had departed, my sisters took me towards the bedrooms, opposite sides of a small hallway, the bathroom between them. Opening the door to what was Cindy's room, I was surprised to see it looked more like the room inhabited by a male.
"This is your room now," Cindy stated, "At least until you're on your own two feet again."
"I thought I was... I know we talked about it and agreed, but I thought I'd go live with the parents for a while."
"Mum and Dad did offer, but we insisted you stay here," Danielle explained, "Cindy and I have no problem sharing a room for the time being, but more importantly, we want you here with us for the time being."
"We took everything of yours from your old house. Your car is currently in lock-up. You can get that tomorrow. We've get your bosses in the loop. They're expecting you back at your old place of work on Monday. Same position."
"Seriously?"
They both smiled at me as Cindy replied. "They tried finding someone permanent, but the guy they had in there didn't work out so after around fifteen months, they canned him and put in someone temporarily until you were released and ready to return to work. It would look good if you were back in immediate employment, wouldn't it?"
"It's one of the things my parole officer said would help me re-integrate back into society," I explained, "Despite all the restrictions, it's nice to just know I won't be locked in a room all night. Can't go out at night yet but at least I'll have you two for company."
They both hugged me. "Every night," Cindy replied softly.
"We won't abandon you," Danielle added in a whisper.
"But you need a shower to wash away two years and a bit of prison," Cindy told me, "We have your favourite bodywash, your shaving gear is under the sink, as is your deodorant, and things you need for your teeth."
"Would you like us to join you?" Danielle wondered, a cheeky grin on your face, "How long has it been since you showered with a woman?"
I looked between them, both of them smiling at me, nothing but the unconditional love in their eyes I'd seen all my life. "You're serious?"
"Of course," Cindy replied, "You're our big brother and it's now our job to look after you."
"Mend your broken heart," Danielle added.
"Show you all the love you deserve, and we both love you more than anything," Cindy stated.
"Um... Wouldn't it be weird?"
"You've got nothing we haven't seen before, Mark," Danielle retorted, "And I'm fairly sure you've seen quite a few naked women in your time."
"But you're my sisters."
"It's just a shower, Mark. And we want to spend all the time we can in the world," Cindy stated with a smile, though there was a smirk on her face I recognised.
I knew I wasn't going to win. My sisters had always had me wrapped around their little fingers. Walking into the bathroom, I stood at the door and made a small gesture with my head. They both squealed, giggling away, kissing me on the cheek as they joined me in the bathroom. I can't even remember the last time I'd seen either of them naked. Seen them both in bikini's plenty of times. My sisters were incredibly attractive. Still staggered me that they were both single.
They both waited for me to undress. I was dressed in a simple t-shirt and jeans, the same clothes I'd walked out of prison with. Taking off my clothes, I soon stood in front of them in only my boxer-briefs. Cindy made a gesture so I lowered my underwear though immediately covered my crotch, feeling a blush form on my cheeks. Neither sister hesitated in starting to undress, quickly down into just their bra and panties. They were a vision when dressed. I'd seen them in bikinis, though that was a few years ago. Now?
I was finding myself with a rapidly developing erection that I knew I couldn't stop. Sisters or not, I hadn't had sex in nearly two and a half to three years and I had two half-naked beautiful women in front of me. They both smiled as they slowly removed their bras, revealing a pair of perfectly formed breasts, still perky, with pink nipples that were already hard and pointing out. I had to stop from licking my lips as all four looked utterly delectable.
'They're my sisters. They're my sisters,' I chanted to myself.
Cindy turned on the water in the large shower stall before they shared a glance and lowered their underwear, ensuring they took a long time dropping them down their long legs. Standing up, they stood before me naked and proud. And they were shaved. Completely bald. And I was now completely hard.
Once the water was hot, both offered me a hand. Surrendering to the inevitable, I took each hand as they giggled, seeing my hard cock swinging.
"Wow, Mark, you really are our big brother," Cindy stated as we stepped into the stall.
"Damn, not seen one this big before," Danielle stated.
"Well, it's not like we've seen many, Dani."
"How many Cindy?"
"Well, we've seen Dad's, though that was by accident. And also Mike's, because he decided to flash us one day."
"He did?"
They both slapped me playfully. "We were eighteen and he was just being silly. He hit on each of us once, and we warned him if he didn't back off, we'd tell you. He didn't like that but realised we'd never fall for his so-called charms," Cindy replied.
"Unlike a certain ex-wife," Danielle added.
Once I was dripped with water, they squirted some bodywash into their hands and started to soap me up. Every nook and cranny. Not an inch of my body untouched, and I mean untouched. When they somewhat hesitantly touched my cock, I couldn't help gasp as it had been far too long since I'd felt the touch of any woman, and both their hands were much smaller and softer than mine. When I looked down into their eyes, that same look of unconditional love and devotion was returned.
Soaped up head to toe, they helped wash me off before I found myself cuddled by both of them. "We love you so much, Mark," Cindy whispered, Danielle repeating the words, before they both burst into tears. Before I could ask a question, Cindy whispered, "It's okay. It's just been an emotional day."
After they'd both calmed down, they asked if I wanted to wash them down in return. Having not touched a woman in as long as I'd not been touched by one, I tried not to appear too eager. As my hands carefully soaped up their bodies, the sounds they made suggested they were getting a little turned on. I tried not to spend too long in any erogenous zones, but I'm also only human, in a shower with a pair of beautiful, naked women. Sisters or not, it was a struggle.
Helping dry each other was a lot of fun. Their mahogany hair hung down to their shoulders. Both would often wear their hair in a ponytail. Loved a woman in a ponytail. My dirty mind went elsewhere when I saw one. Taking me by the hand, they led me into my new bedroom, where I found the inbuilt wardrobe was full of my clothes, my underwear and socks in drawers by my bed, and certain other knick-knacks were on a shelf at the other end of my bed, on which a television also stood.
"If you want anything else, Mark, all you need do is ask. The room is yours as long as you want it," Cindy stated.
"And forever is okay with us," Danielle added, both of them cuddling into a side of me each.
Sleeping on a comfortable mattress for the first time in a couple of years felt wonderful. What felt even better was waking up in the morning to the feeling of a soft body spooning against me. Whoever it was sensed I was awake, as the voice of Cindy whispered for me to go back to sleep. I woke up in the morning to find she was still there, snuggled back against me. I had the usual morning erection and she definitely felt it.
Pulling her tighter, I asked, "Why are you in my bed?"
"Dani and I are going to alternate who shares your bed, if you don't mind."
"Why?"
She turned and around I could see the tears in her eyes. "Because we've missed you so much," she sobbed, burying her face against my chest. "We both love you so much, Mark, but you've been gone from our lives for so long."
I had a feeling she didn't just mean my time in prison, she meant the time I was married, even my time dating Simone. Although I didn't spend as much time with them as I had when living at home, I'd always gone out of my way to spend time with my sisters and make them feel special. But perhaps it hadn't been enough. The next morning, Danielle pretty much said the same thing as she clutched at me as if she thought I'd disappear on her. Once I was back at work, receiving light applause but plenty of friendly jeers as I walked back into my office, I woke up more than one morning to find both sisters in bed with me. I always wore underwear to bed, and they were dressed in something to cover their nudity, but it was still weird in a way.
Good thing I wasn't keen on entering the dating scene yet, while I hadn't heard about any boyfriends for years by now. That left me wondering if they were lesbians or even asexual. The latter didn't make sense considering I was left with the impression they had sexual appetites. Fairly sure I'd heard them both masturbating more than once.
The three of us quickly feel into a routine over the next few months. Getting back into the swing of things at work was easy enough. I visited my parents at least once a week for dinner or just a coffee. I even caught up with Simone's parents more than once, though they seemed to know that, when I left that last time, it was over. Her father shook my hand and wished me luck, her mother simply hugged me for a few minutes and cried. When we exchanged 'Goodbyes' we knew we wouldn't see each other again.
Around a year after I was released, I'd built a little savings and, although I loved living with my sisters, I needed my own space. I felt guilty about looking for my own place without telling them, but I knew if I told them I was looking at moving out, they'd convince me far too easily to stay with them. I needed to get on with my life.
I found a nice two-room apartment not too far away from them at a reasonable price for a rental. The bonus was that it came part furnished. After going through all the paperwork and checks, I was surprised it all went through rather easily. I figured me being an ex-convict would go against me, but I had a stable paycheque and that's all they worried about.
Telling my sisters I would be moving out... I knew I broke their hearts. They were not angry for a second... I couldn't be around them, but as I was still on parole, I was stuck walking through the living room, seeing them huddling on the couch during that last month, both of them mourning like I'd died or something. I tried talking to them more than once, but all they did was cry and leave the room. The guilt was nearly overwhelming; I knew how much they loved me. Hell, I loved them just as much in return, but living together meant we couldn't get on with our own lives.
Dad and a couple of friends helped move my things out of their apartment while also grabbing items I had in storage. Cindy and Danielle left early in the morning and only returned once I was nearly ready to depart. I thought they'd give me a short goodbye and that would be it. Instead, they clung to me again, both of them sobbing, telling me how much they loved me. Dad met my eyes for a moment and I noticed a look in his eyes. I didn't know what it was so I just shrugged helplessly.
In the truck later, I said, "I needed to leave, Dad. I've got to pick up the pieces of my life somehow."
"It will do them good too. They're too fixated on you, Mark."
"How do you mean?"
"Any man they meet is measured against their big brother and, in their eyes, no-one on this planet meets the standard."
"Is that why they don't date? I mean, I was there a year and if they were not home an evening, they were out together with maybe one or two girlfriends. And they would keep me updated all night with photos, telling me how much they missed me. Hell, even their friends were being ever so kind."
He glanced at me for a moment while we waited at a red light. "Look, Mark. Despite you serving time, you're a good man. Simone, for all her faults, did love you in her own way. I remember how she looked at you on her wedding day. You can't fake that sort of look in the eyes. The only problem I have is that..."
He trailed off and looked away. "What, Dad?"
He cleared his throat but didn't look back at me. "I see them look at you the same way," he muttered.
"Dad, wait. You don't seriously..."
"Would you do anything with them? No, Mark. And while I love and trust my daughters, I know just how much they love you and I have a feeling that, no matter what anyone says, no-one is going to stop them from trying their best to win you over."
"Dad, I know they love me but..."
"One thing, Mark. Just don't break their hearts. That's all I ask."
"What do you mean?"
The light turned green and he put the truck in gear to pull away. "Whatever happens, no matter what happens, they're still your little sisters. Your role in life is to love and protect them, even from yourself. Just remember that. I've talked to your mother about this. She understands."
I scratched my chin, wondering if he was insinuating what he... Was he seriously suggesting my sisters had feelings for me? As in non-sisterly feelings that verged on... Well, I guess it would explain the jealousy of Simone, and how close our relationship had been since I'd been released. But despite sharing a bed, there had been nothing sexual about it. Kisses were on the cheek, very occasionally a quick peck on the lips. We cuddled all the time, but I had no problem with that sort of affection. And that first shower was never repeated.
I was left thinking he was just reading it wrong.
*****
Present Day
As I cleaned up in the shower, I gave the previous twelve or so months of my life some thought. Instead of the relationship between myself and my sisters becoming strained, as I honestly thought they were left feeling I'd abandoned them, we seemed to be closer than ever. I spoke to both of them nearly every night. We sent messages and exchanged pictures throughout the day. We spent nearly every weekend together. I still wasn't ready for dating so having some female companionship felt good.
I also picked up that, on the rare nights out I did have with them, neither sister had a problem flirting with me. And I wasn't your typical oblivious male. I knew when a woman was giving me the eyes but I guess I simply hadn't looked at my sisters like that, but for the past year, after what my father said, I'd picked up on all the signals I had simply misread for what I reckoned was a number of years.
My sisters were clearly in love with me. And that left me questioning certain things. They were both twenty-eight. I barely heard about any boyfriends. They'd claimed they were not virgins but I also knew they were not the type of girls to go out on a night, pick up a guy, fuck him and then not speak to him again. Surely they couldn't have spent ten years waiting for me to finally do something?
But there was no missing the bombardment of affection coming my way. Whenever we were out together, another woman didn't stand a chance. In fact, I was left thinking their friends were helping them in a way, warding off any attractive woman who came sniffing around my way. One if not both was always holding my hand, had an arm wrapped around my waist, but it was always that constant smile on their face, the look in their eyes. I'd been blind to it for so long, perhaps that blinkered view of the world I'd had when I was with Simone. Now I was looking at both with new eyes, my own father suggesting that his two daughters were in love with his only son. I often wondered how he felt about it. Maybe he already knew it was a car crash waiting to happen and it simply couldn't be stopped.
I'd headed over to my parents place more than once to sink a couple of beers with him. We'd end up in the garage talking shop, tinkering with an old car, and I'd try to start the conversation more than once. To my surprise, all he'd ask was, "Do you love your sisters, Mark?"
"Of course, Dad. Apart from you and Mum, my love for them is unconditional."
"Then as I said that day in the truck, don't break their hearts."
"But Dad..."
"You'll make the right choice, Mark."
"Have you spoken to them?"
He gave me a look I simply couldn't read. "Cindy and Danielle have talked to your mother and I about the situation."
"Situation?" He nodded without saying anything. I felt a little uncomfortable that he was possibly suggesting what I thought he was. "You know I love my sisters, Dad."
"We know you do, Mark. That's why we're not worried about it."
There wasn't really anyone I could talk to this about, but I was pretty much convinced that Cindy and Danielle were both in love with me. There was a part of me that knew it was wrong and the best thing to do would be for me to pull back, even leave. But then I'd break their hearts, and Dad warned me not to do that. Last thing I wanted to do was disappoint my old man.
How did I feel? I love my sisters. At heart, I didn't love any two women more. I trusted them with my life. But did I have any feelings that could be considered unbrotherly?
I'll be completely honest in this moment. During that year I'd lived with them after my release from prison, my feelings went from those of a normal sibling to being completely unbrotherly by the time I'd moved out. It's why I had left. If I'd stayed any longer, I'd have given into the obvious temptation. My sisters were utterly gorgeous, far more intelligent than myself, career driven but talked about children and I knew they wanted them, just like I did, but I think they were waiting for me to see who they wanted, how much they wanted that person, and for that person to give them the green light to really pursue them.
Stepping into my bedroom, I quickly dressed, heading out to find my sisters nursing another glass of wine. They both smiled and stood up, immediately hugging me together like they always did. Wrapping my arms around them, they received a gentle squeeze, making them giggle as they cooed about how strong I was. I'd certainly spent a lot of time in the gym in prison and kept it up upon my release. Apart from work, home and the nearest shopping centre, a gym was the only place I had been allowed to visit on parole. At least I was free of that now.
My sisters had arrived ready to head out, so it was easy to figure that they'd come to my apartment to ensure I would be heading out with them. Grabbing my wallet, phone and keys, we headed downstairs, only waiting a couple of minutes for the taxi they'd arranged to arrive. They sat in the back seat while I took shotgun.
They'd organised to meet a few of their good friends. I was left wondering if my sisters had ever confessed to them how they truly felt about me. The bar we met them was trendy enough. Not really the place I'd head to by myself considering the price of a beer was eye-watering. I did the gentlemanly thing and offered to buy the first round. My sisters told me my money was worthless, I was their guest and all they wanted was my company.
Conversation flowed and I was centre of attention. After an hour, I found myself relaxing and enjoying the evening. I realised that the one topic not to be touched was that of my ex-wife, but anything else was fair game. But we generally avoided anything that would bring down the mood. Cindy sat to my left, Danielle to my right, and they didn't move, ordering their rounds via their phones so they could be delivered to our table.
After a few drinks, the girls wanted to dance. My sisters knew I never went to nightclubs. I was an old school rocker. Give me some punk, grunge, metal of any kind. But what my sisters wanted, they got. A pout, doe eyes and pleading with me, feeling their fingers running up and down my arms and chest, and I was putty in their paws. Their friends giggled but I also saw looks that suggested they knew too. I thought they'd be weirded out the obvious affection the two had for me. Maybe they already knew...
Once inside, we avoided the over-priced drinks, sticking to water or soft drink, and headed to the dancefloor. Despite my aversion to the music, I could still move to the beat. No other woman got a look in the entire time was there, my sisters draped over me the entire time. It wasn't the first time, but I was now paying more attention. Even their friends barely got my attention. If we'd been in the sort of place that had slow music, I had little doubt two bodies would be moulded into mine.
No idea what time we rolled out of the club. I was a gentleman again, making sure all our friends were off safely first. That earned me a kiss on the cheek from each of them but a certain look I tried hard to read, almost as if they understood. The three of us shared a taxi again, this time I was in the middle of the back seat, a sister to either side. The taxi driver met my eyes in the rearview mirror and grinned at me. I was about to tell him they were my sisters, but I kept my mouth shut.
Arriving at my place, Cindy let me out, Danielle got out on her side. Before I could say a word, Danielle paid the driver while Cindy took my hand, leading me to the door leading into the building. Taking the elevator up to the floor of my apartment, I opened the door and stood aside, letting them in first. When they headed straight for my bedroom, I followed them slowly, walking in to find them stripping down to their lingerie. Against their pale skin, Cindy in black, Danielle in red, they turned and smiled at me. They were absolute visions.
Walking towards me, I'm fairly sure I stood there slack-jawed. They ran a hand up an arm each before meeting at the buttons of my shirt, helping undo that and take it off. Their fingers continued to move across my chest down to the belt of my jeans. They undid that but then moved down to my feet, helping take off my shoes and socks, both of them on their knees as they undid the button then lowered the zip of my jeans.
That left me in my bedroom in only my underwear with my twin sisters in their lingerie. And there was no missing the tent in my underwear. Both rose slowly, raking their nails over my skin, both making sure they trailed lightly over my erection.
"What are we doing here?" I had to ask softly.
"Going to bed, Mark," Cindy replied.
"We're going to keep you company," Danielle added.
"How do we look?" Cindy wondered.
"Are we pretty?" Danielle asked.
I took half a step back and looked them up and down. I felt my cock throb from the excitement. They were my sisters and I probably shouldn't see them in such a situation. Huh, that word again. Situation. Both stepped forward and pressed their warm bodies into mine, a hand each moving up my back to the top of my head. Cindy was the first to kiss me, a soft meeting of our lips. It wasn't a chaste kiss but wasn't quite that of lovers. Danielle then kissed me in a similar manner. My fingers were caressing each back on offer at the same time. When I moved further down, they both smiled at me.
"You can touch us anywhere you want, Mark," Cindy breathed.
"We're here for you and only you. Our role in life is to now make you happy. Tonight, we're going to share your bed to sleep."
"Yeah, I'm not sure how easy sleep will be," I muttered.
"Mark?" I met Cindy's eyes. "You realise now how we feel?" I searched her eyes before doing the same with Danielle. "We love you, Mark."