Sunshine streamed through the half-closed blinds, casting dappled light across their bed and making his reddish blond hair look like spun gold. The quiet was soothing, with only the soft sounds of her sighs and the rustle of the bed linens. Charlotte could feel her thigh muscles tensing in anticipation of his touch and she forced herself to relax and breathe slowly. She had all the time in the world to enjoy this. Neither of them had to go to work, no one was in the next room, there was no pressing need to leave the bedroom until hunger drove them out of bed.
Still, she couldn’t help but wiggle against his hand, silently urging him to push his finger deep inside her. He resisted, keeping it just inside her pussy and making small circles. She sighed, impatient for more.
“You got in awfully late last night,” he said, his voice still gravelly with sleep. “I missed you.”
She could feel his cock, thick and hard, pressing against her hip. She’d been so focused on his gentle, teasing touch, she hadn’t noticed he was already fully aroused.
“Sorry. You know how the girls are,” she said. “But I missed you, too. You looked so sweet when I got home.”
“Why didn’t you wake me?” He kissed the top of her head as he continued to stroke her.
She sighed sleepily. “I was so tired by the time I took a shower I just wanted to curl up and go to sleep.”
He stroked her pussy gently. “I would have helped you get to sleep.”
“This is so much better than sleeping,” she whispered, covering his hand with her own. “That feels good.”
“Want more?”
She nodded against his shoulder. “Yes, please.”
Slowly, he pushed his finger inside her. “You’re getting wet.”
“Imagine that.”
He kept up his slow circles, teasing her with his warm touch. “Naughty girl.”
Charlotte hooked her leg over his, spreading herself even wider for his touch. “Oh yes,” she said, ending on a sigh as his finger slid deeper. “I think I want more.”
He added a second finger inside of her. “Like that?”
She moaned, arching off the bed to take his fingers inside her. “Just like that.”
He stroked her slowly, her wetness coating his fingers. She could hear the liquid sounds her pussy made as he stroked her. The noise was as arousing as this slow build up of tension. She squirmed against his hand, eager for more but willing to let him set the pace.
She reached down and fondled his cock just as slowly as he was touching her. He made a soft sound of approval and pushed against her hip. She smiled, sure she could hold out at this languid pace longer than he could.
He apparently didn’t want her to think she had the upper hand because he upped the ante by pressing his thumb to her swollen clit. She jumped as if shocked and clamped her thighs around his hand.
Ian chuckled. “I wanted to make sure you were awake.”
She harrumphed as she swirled her thumb over the tip of his cock, catching a bead of wetness along the way. “I’m as awake as you are, sweetheart.”
“Excellent.”
His fingers glided into her, curving upward to stroke the inside of her pussy. She was still tender from the previous day, but she was getting wetter as he touched her. A familiar ache began to build inside her and she felt her nipples pucker in response to her growing arousal. Ian’s arm was beneath her neck and he reached down to stroke the swell of her breast, the dark edge of her hard nipple. His fingers, callused from years of handling fire equipment, felt rough against her tender flesh. The sensation sent chills through her and she inhaled sharply.
“Mmm, nice,” she whispered.
“You’re ready for me.”
She nodded again. “Oh, yes.”
He shifted his arm from under her and moved to kneel between her spread thighs. Lifting her legs over his broad shoulders, she expected him to push his cock into her. He surprised her by cupping her ass in his large hands and raising her up until her pussy was beneath his mouth. Back arched, she stared down between her legs and watched as he licked her swollen clit.
She whimpered at the zing of pleasure that accompanied that one swift stroke. Squirming for more, she was rewarded by his tongue parting the lips of her pussy and swirling around her opening the way his fingers had earlier. She pushed her hips toward his mouth, grasping at his shaggy mop of tousled golden curls, aching to feel his tongue inside her.
He pulled back, teasing her. “You do seem to want me.”
“Yes!”
He lowered his mouth between her thighs, the day-old growth of his beard scratching her sensitive thighs. “You smell like heaven. Taste like it, too.”
“Lick me!”
Finally, he gave her what she wanted and slid his tongue inside her. She whimpered low in her throat as he lapped at her with the flat of his tongue, drawing her own wetness up over her sensitive clit. She clutched at him, pulling his head into her and rubbing against his mouth shamelessly. Her orgasm was quick and explosive, catching her by surprise. She held his head between her thighs, riding out the long, rolling waves of her climax as he devoured her with his mouth. Then, just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, he lowered her down to the bed and guided his thick cock into her.
With tremors of her orgasm still rippling along the walls of her pussy, he felt huge inside her. She wrapped her legs around his strong back, arching up to meet his slow, deep thrusts. He reached under her to hold her ass, anchoring her to him as he rocked into her. She nibbled his neck, licking the salty moisture from his skin as her whole body quivered against him.
His thigh muscles trembled as he came, still moving so slowly inside her, as her pussy squeezed the length of his shaft. His orgasm seemed to last as long as hers, every short thrust followed by a deep groan. She held him to her, hands soothing the bunched muscles of his back and down to his clenched ass. Finally, he relaxed against her, his solid weight both sensual and comforting.
“Think we did it?” he murmured, tucking his head against her neck.
She stroked his hair, a private smile curving her lips. She was suddenly sleepy again. “Maybe. But the doctor said the more times I make love around ovulation, the more likely I am to get pregnant.”
“Give me an hour and I’ll see what I can do to increase our chances.”
She giggled. “Lovely, but don’t forget I’m playing tennis with Henry at ten.”
“Hmph. Girls’ night out, tennis with Henry. My girlfriend is in high demand.” Ian moved off her, pulling her over on her side and into his arms, where she settled with a contented sigh. “At least until you get knocked up. Then you’re all mine.”
“Exactly the way I want,” she said, stretching like a well-fed cat. “Maybe this month is my month.”
“Well, if it doesn’t happen this time, we’ll just have to try again next month,” Ian said. “It’s all about the timing, right?”
“All in the timing,” she agreed.
Double Take
Madeline Moore
Patricia Sheldon was the eldest – by eleven minutes, but that was enough to make her Jeannie’s older sister; just as well, for Patricia went first in everything. She walked first, said “Dada” first and was the first to read. Physically they were identical in every way. Nothing but their personalities distinguished one blonde, blue-eyed twin from the other.
Mrs Sheldon dressed them alike from top to toe. They both wore their wavy hair long, tied with identical ribbons. When they were very little they switched beds and giggled when their hoodwinked father kissed Patricia on the head and said, “Goodnight, Jeannie,” and then kissed Jean on the head and said, “Goodnight, Patty.”
Patty loved volleyball but hated math, so she went to gym class for her sister, who hated volleyball but loved math, and Jeannie went to math class for Patty. This way they maintained high marks in everything and were never absent from a class often enough to raise eyebrows.
Mr and Mrs Sheldon took the twins to the Twin Convention i
n Twinsburg, Ohio every August. The girls loved the event because just being twins didn’t invite attention, so they could vie for it like normal people, and be gratified when they got it. They sang duets in the Twin Talent Show and ate up the applause. The whole family looked forward to it.
They rode the float in the Year 2000 parade. A beautiful blond boy sat down beside Patty on the crowded, slow-moving float. “Hi.”
“Hi,” said a mirror image of the first boy as he sat beside Jeannie.
“Hi,” the girls said, and gulped. Where had these two come from? Heaven?
“We’re new,” said the first, as if reading their thoughts. “We moved to Oregon this year, from Australia. But you’ve been coming to this Convention for years.”
“Uh huh,” said Patty. His eyes were green. Green! If there is anything gorgeouser than green eyes and blond hair on a boy, she didn’t know what it might be, except green eyes and blond hair on two boys.
“How’d’y’know?” Jeannie asked.
“We looked at the Convention pics online,” he said, “and we thought you were the prettiest girls ever.”
“Shut up,” said his brother, blushing. “We picked you because – you’ll never guess—”
“Try and guess our names,” interrupted his double.
“I dunno,” said Jeannie. She was as tongue-tied as the boy beside her. “Robert and Richard?”
The boys shook their heads. Jeannie twisted her necklace in her hands and shrugged.
“Peter and Paul?” Patty giggled.
The boys kept shaking their heads.
“Thing One and Thing Two?” Jeannie tried.
Gorgeous boy number one stood up. “I’m Gene,” he announced. Gorgeous boy number two stood, as well. “I’m Pat,” he said. Together, they jumped from the float and disappeared into the crowd.
Jeannie sat, blinking, in the sunlight.
Patty grabbed her hand and croaked, “Oh. My. God.”
Pat and Gene’s carefully planned introduction was a complete success.
What fun the four children had! What innocent, sun-dappled, group fun they had that year, no twin giving much thought to which twin she or he was talking, swimming, wrestling, laughing, tickling, etc.
On the very night they’d met the boys, Patty whispered to Jeannie, “We’re going to marry them.”
Jeannie wholeheartedly agreed. Every night they’d whisper into their pillows, “Oh Gene,” and “Oh Pat,” and then “Oh Pat,” and “Oh Gene.”
No promises had been made that year, but all four understood that they’d see each other again the following August, and the August after that, and so on.
Eventually, gangly preteen boys greeted awkward preteen girls. The next year, tall teenage twin boys greeted girls with curves. And so on. They were fifteen the summer they paired off for the first time, alternating. The first kiss from Gene, for Patty, was fantastic, but so was the second kiss, from Pat, and the same went for Jeannie. One might think the two gregarious twins, Patty and Pat, would naturally be more attracted to each other, and the same with the shy Jeannie and Gene, but then, opposites attract too. So, while Patty loved swimming and playing baseball with Pat and Jeannie loved gaming and tech talking with Gene, Jeannie also loved dancing with light-footed Pat, and Patty loved conversing with knowledgeable Gene. All four of them loved singing in the talent show and the duet times two was a big hit. They got tons of applause and attention and they all loved that, together.
A year is a long time for anyone to wait for a lover, but especially for a teenager. It was easier for Jeannie as she was the more patient of the two girls. Patty was itching to have sex. Happily, they agreed on one thing – the more experience they brought to their first time with the twin of choice (whoever that might be) the better.
Patty was particularly impatient to be seventeen, because, as anyone knows, a girl who “did it” before seventeen was a ’ho, whereas a girl who was seventeen or older, was not.
Of course they’d been dating for a couple of years by the time they achieved non-’ ho status, but they’d held back, which had not been terribly difficult for Jeannie and not totally impossible for Patty. At night, along with their muffled moans of “Oh Gene” and “Oh Pat” each was busy beneath her bedclothes. They weren’t shy about trading information or technique, but when it came down to actual self-pleasuring, they made sure one of their iPods was docked and playing, to drown out any ecstatic sounds that might escape their mouths in the heat of the moment.
They saw each other naked all the time and certainly they’d compared hair growth and breast growth and, after that, labia and clits and nipples but they didn’t take it any further. They weren’t interested that way in girls, not even or maybe especially each other. So their exchange of information was mostly verbal, and usually traveled one way, from Patty to Jeannie.
“God, his French kissing was gross,” Patty’d say as she and her sister huddled on one of their beds for their customary postdate chats. “Look at these hickeys!” She’d show Jeannie the ring of dark bruises at her neck. “I’ll be wearing a turtleneck for a week.”
The next week, Jeannie would make a point of Frenching her current boy, just so she could report back to her sister, “He’s pretty talented with his tongue.” She’d show off her hickey (never more than one) with shy pride.
They were seventeen in August, after, sadly, the convention. In short order, little sister Jeannie was most definitely left behind once more.
“I did it,” said Patty, triumphantly. Her face was flushed.
“Tell me,” was all Jeannie said.
“We went to Jason’s place. His parents were going to be out really late and his bratty little brother was staying at their aunt’s. We ate pizza in the rec room, like we always do, only he had a bottle of sparkling wine so we had a glass each, and started watching the Horror Channel.”
“Oh Christ!” muttered Jeannie. She couldn’t stand scary movies.
“So I was screaming and hiding my face in his shoulder, like always, and we started necking, like always, and he put his hand under my shirt—”
“Like always,” said Jeannie.
“Like sometimes,” corrected Patty. “I pulled away, which surprised him. He was going to say something but I started unbuttoning my blouse. He shut up and watched. I unbuttoned it completely and took it off. Like so.” She unbuttoned her blouse slowly, batting her lashes at her sister, and let it slide off her shoulders, revealing a skimpy satin bra.
“My bra!” Jeannie pretended to be scandalized but Patty wasn’t fooled.
“I slid one strap down my arm,” she said, demonstrating, “and then the other and I reached behind and unsnapped it and took it off.”
“God, you’re so brave.”
“I have great tits. It’s a fact.”
“Me too.”
“Of course,” Patty continued. “Jason put his hands on my breasts and gently pushed me back until I was lying on the couch, and then he, he leaned over me and licked my nipples. It was terrific!”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know. He went back and forth, and when he was licking one he’d twirl the other one between his fingers. My nipples were hard and pinker than usual.”
“They still are,” said Jeannie.
“God, you’re right,” said Patty, glancing down at her chest. “Show me yours.”
Jeannie tugged down the neck of her nightie. The sisters appraised each other’s chest. Jeannie’s nipples were soft and pink, while Patty’s were taut, swollen and scarlet.
“Neat,” said Jeannie. She released the elastic neckline of her nightie. It sprung back into place. “Go on.”
“He took off his shirt and lay on top of me. His skin was hot. He adjusted himself, inside his pants, and then popped the button of my jeans and slid his hand down, under my thong. I was so wet, Twinnie! As soon as his fingers touched my cunt I felt a twinge, almost like a shock, in my clit. I knew right then we were going all the way. I had to have it.
”
“Wow,” said Jeannie. She was so taken by the tale she didn’t bother to admonish her sister for her crude vernacular. (Jeannie found the word “pussy” more pleasing.)
“Yeah. I let him take my jeans off and he got between my legs, still in his pants, and started dry-humping me. I swear I could’ve come but I didn’t want to, and I told him so. Of course he thought I was protesting but I said, ‘Take me to your room,’ and he did. What a kick, moving through the living room, naked, with him in only his unbuttoned pants, the tip of his cock poking out the top. It was like being on a movie set or something. It felt dangerous and exciting, like those moments right before the serial killer leaps out and murders the teenage lovers.”
Patty stood up and took off her jeans and panties, then tip-toed around their bedroom, her eyes wide with wonder. “I kept looking, from left to right, even as we went up the stairs. Then we were in his room. Jason dropped his pants. His hard-on was huge.”
“How big?”
Patty measured out a span with her hands. “Six and a half, maybe seven. Big enough. I probably went pale at the sight of it. But he was cool, he really was. He put a towel down on the bed, in case I bled, and took a condom from his bedside table, and put it on.”
“God, that is so cool.”
“Oh he’d done it before, that’s for sure. I was sitting on the bed, watching, and he came and pushed me back. He bent his knees a bit. I knew he was going to do me, just like that, and I was keen. It was like all the heavy petting we’d done for the last few weeks had just that minute happened and I was totally psyched. I spread my legs a little wider and he slid into me, half-way, then jerked his hips so hard I felt his balls slap against me, just below my cunt.”
“Did it hurt?”
“Not much. I liked it.”
“Did you bleed?”
“No, but I’m not surprised. I think we both lost our hymens at that Wild West Riding Camp, don’t you?”
“Probably.” Jeannie nodded gravely. Whatever jealousy she felt about her sister vaulting ahead, experience-wise, was more than equaled by the relief that washed over her with the outpouring of her sister’s story. Jeannie liked to go into things informed and once again Patty was a fount of information.
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