Sexy Twins Fucking Hot Story
10-08-2014, 09:44 PM
"Oh yes!...Yes!...Ooh..." Polly panted as she writhed under Mike's persistent thrusting. Her eyes tight shut, she couldn't see his expression of grim determination as he held on to his load far beyond what he'd previously considered possible.
As he saw Polly's face contort in the brief ecstasy of orgasm, he gratefully came inside her, growling through gritted teeth at the relief of that release. His semen boiled from his cock, hosing Polly's twitching cervix as Mike thrust hard into her two...three more times. Feeling her cervix press momentarily against his post-orgasmically hypersensitive glans, he sighed with ecstasy and pain, his hips finally ceasing their grinding.
Polly sank limp against the mattress, humming in contentment as Mike rolled from between her legs and slumped heavily beside her, his breathing slightly ragged from his exertion and his slick cock softening against his thigh.
"Hmmm." Polly purred. "It's been far too long. Thank you."
"Your welcome." Mike murmured sleepily.
"No nodding off on the job, Mister." Cassy leant over the exhausted man and kissed him deeply, finding herself being kissed back just as forcefully. Good! He wasn't as spent as he looked. The spirit was clearly still willing, even if the flesh looked weak.
As Polly's twin administered the kiss of life, her hand withdrew from between her own thighs. She broke off the kiss and pressed three moist and pungent fingers to Mike's lips. "That's what watching you two has done to me." She smiled wickedly as Mike parted his lips and drew her fingertips into his mouth, suckling on their tips like an infant. "We had a deal, Mister. You'd better be able to keep up your end of it."
"I don't think that'll be a problem, Sis. Look down." Polly propped herself up on an elbow and came to Mike's defence.
Cassy glanced down the bed. Sure enough, Mike's penis was stirring. Both twins reached for it, ten fingertips caressing it back to full vigour. Cassy watched it grow with greedy eyes. It was a fine specimen: That was for sure. Long, thick and heavily veined. Judging that he was as hard as he was going to get, Cassy lay back and flung her legs wide.
The speed with which Mike took up the invitation surprised – no, delighted her. "Michael, Dear."
"Yes." He looked down at her solemnly, his cock unmoving inside her.
God! She thought. That feels wonderful. Sis was right: it's been too damned long. "I know this is a cash deal but you are allowed to enjoy yourself too." Cassy had noticed how – workmanlike was the only word for it – how workmanlike his servicing of Polly had been. It was like he was trying to avoid intimacy even while having sex. Sweet boy. "Now earn your money. Giddyup!" Her heels kicked at his buttocks and Mike took the hint, thrusting hard, deep, fast...
* * * * *
Mike had known the twins for several years, ever since they'd returned to Bridgehampton from University in England. They'd become friends when the twins had hired a local handyman – him - to fix up the shop for them. Ever since, he'd been dropping by for coffee on quiet mornings and shooting pool with them in their local bar.
He'd watched with amusement as ambitious young bachelors foundered on the rocks, trying to win one of these two sirens. In all the time he'd known them, none of the guys had succeeded in getting anywhere near the twins – and many had tried, hard. For this reason, their proposition had taken him somewhat by surprise.
Being a casual worker, there were inevitable dry periods for Mike and, occasionally, he supplemented a meagre income with deposits at a sperm bank upstate. While this was not common knowledge, the twins were close friends and in the veritas of vino one long ago evening, he'd confided in them.
When he'd turned down a pot roast invitation last week because he was getting a free ride "upstate" with a removals firm he occasionally worked for, the twins had turned up at his house by Kellis Pond with their absurd proposal.
They wanted to buy his "deposit" instead. They'd discussed it and they both wanted babies. Moreover, they wanted their children as close to being siblings as possible, so they should at least share the same father. The trouble was the absence of said father.
None of the local hopefuls were even considered but Mike was their pal and, not beating around the bush, they were aware how much he needed the money.
Incredulity, disbelief, bemusement and realization that the twins meant it, pretty much covered the rest of Mike's evening. Finally, he'd agreed.
It was the most sleepless night of his life. He'd had a hard-on until daybreak, just thinking about fucking the twins – and they'd made it clear they were not intending to use a turkey baster for this deal. They'd said, practically in unison, that their children had to come from an act of love. Fuck! How often had he jerked off, fantasizing about those two? Now it was scheduled to actually happen he was rock hard but couldn't do anything to relieve his tension. He needed his sperm count high when they called.
Yes, it'd been a long week waiting for the twins' calendar: A long hard week.
* * * * *
Taking Cassy at her word, Mike relaxed a little and took time to enjoy his work. It was a fantasy made flesh after all. He'd never been able to tell the twins apart – they appeared to work hard at remaining identical – but now he realized that he wouldn't even be able to identify them by fucking them. Even the little moans and sighs, the smell of perspiration, the way Cassy's vagina pulsed around him – all were just like her sister.
Mike was grateful for the déjà vu feeling as Cassy started trembling under him as if she were going into some sort of seizure, signalling the onset of her orgasm. Manfully, he raised his game long enough to finish with a flourish of hard, deep thrusts, letting his seed spurt directly onto her cervix as it dilated during her orgasm. He'd done some research on the web and read that this was the best place to put the semen.
He didn't have the energy left to roll off her, lying instead, still sheathed inside her, his weight settling gently on her heaving bosom. The sounds of Cassy catching her breath were interrupted by applause from Polly.
"Bravo! Encore" That was spectacular!"
"No encores." Mike mumbled as Cassy's fingers entwined themselves in his hair. He turned and kissed her cheek. "Thanks Polly."
"Cassy" Cassy gently corrected him.
"Both of you. It certainly beats whacking off into a plastic cup."
"What do you use for... motivation at the sperm bank?" Cassy asked, her fingers still toying with his hair.
"Is it true they have porn collections?" Polly asked.
"It's true, but I don't bother with it: I can't touch those girls or smell, or..." he looked straight into Cassy's eyes "taste them."
Cassy dipped her lashes demurely.
"So?" Polly prompted.
"So... I can't believe I'm telling you two this..." Mike rolled onto his back and waited while the twins nestled against his sides. "Well, usually, I fantasized about you two."
"See Sis!" Cassy lifted her head to look across Mike's chest at Polly. "I told you he'd thought about it before we propositioned him."
"You were right, I was wrong." Polly conceded "Now please shut up: I want to hear this fantasy of his. Go on Mike."
* * * * *
Despite obvious attempts to make the small, windowless room comfortable, it managed to retain its clinical nature. Ignoring the stack of DVDs that the nurse had indicated before she left him alone, Mike settled himself in a chair and unbuttoned his jeans.
All the way here, some three hours by road, he'd primed himself by constructing a fantasy about the twins. He got hard now just thinking about them.
His daydreaming had got as far as discovering them skinny-dipping down by the bay. He'd stood on the shore; daring them to come out but only succeeding in making them stay neck deep in the cool water. Christ! Their nipples must be like diamonds in that water. The bay was never that warm.
That was as far as he'd got en route. Now, semi-rigid cock in hand, he picked up the thread...
"Well, if you girls won't come out..." Mike peeled off his shirt and reached for his belt. His body had that tone and deep bronzing of a life spent outdoors that the New Yorkers so often fell short of with their expensive gyms and solariums. He kicked off his sneakers and stepped out of his jeans, his thumbs already hooked into his shorts.
"Last chance, girls..." but the twins didn't answer. They just watched his hands, waiting for his shorts to fall. One of them licked her lips – which one was it? Damned if he knew. He'd never been able to tell them apart.
Mike shrugged and peeled his shorts off, letting his cock swing free. The girls laughed.
"That? That's not worth coming all that way for." One twin heckled.
"Not if we have to share." Amended her sister.
Mike looked down at his flaccid cock and pulled a face, his mouth comically down turned. "He just needs a reason to wake up." He glanced around and espied what he was looking for. Stooping among the twins' things, he picked up a scrap of white with each hand. "These 'll do the trick." He called out to the girls.
"Hey Mister! Hands off out underwear." One twin shouted, but Mike made a show of sniffing first one pair then the other.
"Damn, Girls, I can't even tell you two apart by smell." The faint musk of their underwear was working its magic and his cock grew longer and firmer. Mike kept one pair pressed under his nose, sniffing in the scent of warm pussy while he wrapped the other pair around his not-quite-hard-on and pumped rhythmically getting himself fully aroused. "There!" he called to them, taking his hand from his rigid cock and shaking his hips to make it bob like a conductor's baton. "Is that enough for two?"
For answer, the twins exchanged one of those long glances between them that seemed so much like a telepathic conversation; then they moved towards the shore. As their firm breasts came out of the water, draped with long, wet, blonde hair, Mike re-wrapped his cock and continued masturbating with the panties. He took another long sniff for good measure.
"Better hurry girls." He could feel the swift approach of his orgasm.
"He's bluffing." One twin said to her sister.
"He wouldn't really... would he?" The other answered.
By now they were waist deep. Mike stared hungrily at their breasts – he'd been so right about those nipples - and pumped harder.
As their shaven pussies came into view his gaze lowered to them. Two perfect pairs of pink lips, innocent of any curls. They were gonna be too late.
With a lustful grunt Mike let his semen pump out into the plastic cup. As spurts became dribbles, he sank back in the chair to catch his breath and pondered what the twins would have said or done if he'd held on awhile longer.
* * * * *
10-08-2014, 09:44 PM
"So he did fancy us all this time." Polly spoke to her sister across Mike. "I wonder why he never tried his luck."
"He." Mike interjected "Is right here."
Polly glanced at him in feigned surprise. "Oh yes. So Michael, why didn't you try your luck?"
"When we first met, I was... involved-"
"Jo-Jo the serial philanderer." Polly opined.
"We remember that!" Cassy added.
"Yeah, the whole village remembers that. Gotta be some kinda Guinness world record for the most public break-up. Anyway, by the time I was single again, I'd seen a lot of guys shot down by you two. I figured men clearly weren't your thing so why spoil a good friendship?"
"Clever boy!" they kissed his cheeks in unison.
"Good friends have a value greater than rubies." Polly said
"You're thinking of a virtuous wife." Mike corrected her.
"Are you sure?"
"Proverbs 31. I paid attention in bible class."
Cassy interrupted. "I can't believe you're quoting the bible after what you've just done to us."
"Actually, your sister started it but she misquoted. Can I ask a personal question?"
"Sis, can you believe this guy?" Polly spoke across him again. "Five minutes ago he was jerking off into our panties. Now he needs permission to ask a personal question."
"He's just being polite." Cassy replied. Then to Mike, "Ask."
"I wasn't jerking off into your panties – that was just an old fantasy. My question is this: You don't act like you don't like guys. You gave every indication of enjoying getting..."
"Laid?" Polly offered.
"Fucked?" Cassy suggested.
"We never said we don't like guys."
"We prefer girls but guys are fun too."
"It just that this is a small community-"
"And we share everything. How many local boys would be discreet enough?"
"Hence, no boyfriends."
"So you like girls?" Mike asked.
"Boys too but girls are better."
"But I've never seen you even look at another girl that way. I'm pretty sure I'd have noticed."
"I'm a girl." Polly said flatly.
"Me too." Cassy responded, lifting her head to look down on Mike. She wanted to see his expression as this sunk in. She wasn't disappointed.
"You?... You two?" His face showed all the confusion and befuddlement that this revelation always precipitated.
Cassy took the opportunity to kiss him. As she pulled back, Polly took over where she'd left off, kissing Mike deeply. When she broke from Mike she kissed Cassy too, just inches above Mike's face. He watched in stunned silence as their tongues entwined.
"Don't tell me this wasn't in any of your fantasies." Polly smiled down at him then the twins settled back with their heads on his shoulders.
"Well, yes. But..."
"Shh." Cassy put a finger to his lips. "You can tell us all about that fantasy another time. It's late. Let's just sleep now." She didn't want to get Mike aroused again tonight. He had to service them two more nights and they needed his sperm count as high as possible.
Polly understood. She turned out the lamp on her side of the bed. "Sweet dreams Michael." She snuggled down and closed her eyes.
"Er... Sweet dreams." Mike hadn't expected to stay over but... then... he hadn't expected quite a lot of stuff that had happened tonight.
"Goodnight sweet prince." Cassy buzzed his cheek.
"And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest." Mike finished off the quote as she made a long arm and turned off the other lamp, plunging them into sudden darkness.
"So you paid attention in English class too?" Cassy whispered, draping an arm across him in search of Polly's hand.
"Yep. Sweet dreams."
* * * * *
The following afternoon, Mike came into the shop about half an hour shy of closing time. "Afternoon, Boss."
"Boss? Don't I get a kiss."
He leant over the counter to buzz her lips. "Well, since I still can't tell you two apart, even after..."
But Mike continued anyway. "And since I've been hired to be your prize bull, you are technically my boss..."
"Prize bull? Hmm. I suppose, yes, that pretty much covers it. But, Michael Dear?"
"You can tell us apart now."
His eyebrows rose quizzically.
"Remember last night, you told us about your fantasy but you got a little detail wrong?"
"What little detail? Oh! That!"
"Well we thought it'd be nice for you if we... complied. One of us at least... Me."
"Smooth as a peach. And, Good Lord, am I sensitive? I've been practically sliding off this stool all afternoon."
"This I have to check out." Mike stepped around the end of the counter.
"Hold on a second Mister. Not so fast. This is a respectable establishment and we don't tolerate that sort of behaviour in Bridgehampton. Let me lock up and we'll go see what Cassy's cooking up for dinner.
But Mike pressed himself against Polly's back, pinioning her behind the counter. He nuzzled the back of her neck as a rough hand slipped down the front of her slacks. Jeez! She had shaved it! His fingertips encountered only smooth warm skin all the way to the start of her cleft. He pushed his hand further down her trousers, cupping her sex and feeling the heat as Polly pressed back onto his bulging jeans and sighed. Her own hand groped behind her, squeezing the hot hard lump of his penis. She hadn't been kidding about her sensitivity. She was gagging for it.
Polly's deft fingers unbuttoned his jeans and fished inside them for that cock. He smelt of hard work, musky with sweat from a day on somebody's roof, repairing shingles. His calloused finger pressed the length of her denuded lips, its tip probing inside her slick flesh.
Her slacks zipped at the back... but not for long. Pulling his hand free, Mike bent her forward over the counter, fumbled her zipper and peeled her pants and panties down in one swift motion. He'd had an arousing day too and the slickness on his fingers belied the need for foreplay. Without a word, he guided the head of his cock between her thighs and shoved hard into her. A squeal was the only protest before Polly pressed back against his hips, taking him all into her body.
"Look across the street." Mike urged her. Polly lifted her chin and looked through the glass pane in the door. Across Main Street, Polly's sister, a brown bag in the crook of each arm, had stopped to chat to the vicar. "I hope he doesn't offer to carry her groceries for her." Mike husked, his teeth gritted as he stroked in and out of Polly's pussy. The thrill of possible discovery was just one more aspect of his recurring fantasies about the twins.
Polly didn't care. All she wanted right now was an orgasm. She ground her ass against him. "Just fuck me." She begged.
Mike was more than happy to comply, upping the tempo until he could hear the change in the cash register rattling with every push. He glanced down, admiring his work. Her ass hole was perfectly framed between her spread cheeks: Now there was a fantasy he wasn't likely to act out. It still spurred him on though, watching her labia stretch around his driving cock and those smooth butt cheeks quivering as he buried his root.
Polly's climax hit so suddenly it took him by surprise. Her vagina seized him in its pulsating grip as she writhed on the counter, gasping in ecstatic release. He fought the friction of her grip to thrust a few more times, pressing the ball of his thumb against her anus and massaging it, just the act of touching her there sending him over the edge, tightening his balls and forcing lava-like semen erupting all over the entrance to her womb. His thumb had made her tense but that felt good too and, as her pussy milked him dry, she relaxed, despite Mike's thumb circling her anus.
All passion spent, Mike pulled out his slick, sticky cock and tucked it back into his jeans, fastening the buttons while looking down at the supine figure of Polly, gasping for breath, lying across the counter with her bare ass still perfectly presented. Her newly shaved slit looked red and puffy and glistened with moisture. He could smell them both.
The bell announced the opening of the door, rousing Polly from her reverie with a sudden "Ooh!" of surprise. She rose upright and hauled her pants up in one swift motion. Mike, ever obliging, pulled up her zipper. There wasn't time to fasten the hook at the waistband but she'd look decent enough from the front, if a little flushed, and her trousers wouldn't fall down.
Pulling a screwdriver from his back pocket only to, rather more conspicuously, put it back, he covered his presence behind the counter by saying, too loudly. "That should fix it, but if it's still sticky tomorrow, call me and I'll pop over to grease it more thoroughly."
Stepping from behind the counter, Mike headed for the door where Cassy was thanking the Vicar for helping her with her bags. "... Thank you so much Reverend Jones. Just put them down anywhere. Polly and I will sort them out later. Oh. Good afternoon Mike." Cassy noticed the handyman coming round the counter.
10-08-2014, 09:44 PM
"Afternoon Miss." Mike answered with suitable deference. "Reverend." He added, with a nod, making his way past them and out of the door, making good his escape.
* * * * *
"You Randy bitch!" Cassy exclaimed as she pushed the door closed and leant against it. The Reverend may not have noticed but Cassy could smell what had been going on.
"Oh Sis." Polly sighed, sitting down gingerly, her pants now properly fastened. "You have no idea."
"Ahem... Remember me? Your twin sister? I'm just as horny and just as broody as you are. Did Michael like his surprise?"
"He did. But Cassy, you really have to let me shave you too."
"I know: It's too weird – not being identical." Cassy shuddered at the thought.
"That too. But I was actually thinking about the sensitivity. You've simply got to try it."
"Well, it's gone closing time. Before dinner or after?"
"Before!" Polly came round the counter and picked up one of the bags of groceries. They only live five minutes walk from the shop so generally left the car at home. "Before Mike gets his grubby hands on you."
"Just a 'Randy bitch'."
"Touché" Cassy picked up the second bag and followed Polly out.
* * * * *
"A Brace of Pheasant" is an unusual shop: It might even be described as eclectic. It's uniqueness lies in the fact it sells only things that traditionally come in pairs. Not that the twins need to sell anything to make a living. Their father provided well for them before he died so the shop is more a hobby than a business. In the summer months, when Bridgehampton is thronging with Manhattanites, its busy enough and in the quiet winter months, the twins travel, often to England, and restock.
The counter houses a large collection of antique cufflinks and earrings, interspersed with ornate Victorian scissors and 19th century spectacles but of course, no monocles. There are several sets of duelling pistols, including a rather fine pair that once belonged to Lord somebody-or-other, who came to an untimely end because of them.
Also in the gun case is a brace of Purdey shotguns, not antiques but eminently collectable and quite possibly the most valuable item in the shop's inventory.
There are only two pairs of shoes: The pair worn by Moira Shearer in "The Red Shoes" and a pair of Margot Fonteyn's ballet slippers.
There are candlesticks, ceramic doorknobs, crystal toasting flutes and vases. A corner is set aside for musical instruments such as Hindu finger cymbals, maracas, castanets and some bongo drums. Sporting equipment includes ebony bowling balls of the English variety, petanque balls from France, vintage crampons and positively ancient skis suitable only for den décor.
Pride of place on the wall, and definitely not for sale, is a life-sized oil painting of a brace of pheasant on a kitchen table, ready for plucking. The painting gives the shop it's name and is of great sentimental value. Why? Well, now there's a tale...
* * * * *
Cas and Pol arrived at Charlton Park, from Oxford, on December 21st. They hadn't seen Uncle Patrick for two years so had elected to spend their first Christmas back in Dear Old Blighty with him, rather than flying back to the States and Mom.
'Uncle' had been their father's best friend, his best-man and later, after father's death, their legal guardian. He'd watched the twins grow up so it took him rather by surprise that the gangling, too-skinny, sixteen-year-olds had grown, in two short years, into the – well the only word for it is beautiful – the beautiful young women who stepped elegantly from the car onto the gravel drive.
"Uncle!" the twins exclaimed in unison, rushing to embrace the stunned man.
"My, but you've grown."
"It has been two years, Uncle." Said one.
"And that's too long!" said the other.
"Do we still have the attic rooms?" asked the first.
"Slow Down!" Sir Patrick laughed, squeezing the two armfuls of twin. "Certainly you may have the attic, if you want. But..."
"But the Rose Room will suit your colouring more I think." The way he said Rose Room they could practically hear the capital letters.
"Really?" The twins were in unison once more.
The Rose Room had always been Mother's favourite. Legend had it that the Prince of Wales used to keep his current mistresses there. Indeed, there was a secret passage between it and the master bedroom, lending credence to the tale. As little girls, their father had shown them the passage and sworn them to secrecy with a solemn, even grim, expression and dire warnings about the consequences to anyone who 'blabbed'.
They'd taken it all very seriously and thought themselves very important to have been entrusted with such a secret – right up until they'd seen it on TV, during a documentary about the former Prince of Wales, builder of Charlton Park & Brighton Pavilion and a notorious philanderer. They'd been very cross with Daddy for that.
"Really." He released the twins, taking a step back. "Let me look at you two." He cast a thoughtful eye over the impatient girls. "Well you certainly favour your mother. Prettier by far though... What are you two fidgeting about?" He asked, as if he didn't know. "You look like you need to go to the toilet. Or does the Rose Room hold the same charm for you as it does for Diane? Go on then. I'll have your bags sent up presently." He called after them as they darted away like greyhounds out of the traps, up the steps and into the great house.
He heard the distant sound of heels on oak stairs and the soft crunch of gravel underfoot as his driver approached. "The Rose Room, Phillips."
"Naturally, Major." Phillips, the driver, general factotum and former batman walked heavily to the steps, a large suitcase in each hand.
"Naturally." Mused Major Sir Patrick Twigg, leaning on his walking stick and looking every inch the country squire.
* * * * *
Christmas Eve at Charlton Park was a formal affair. The twins, dressed in understated, Wedgwood blue evening gowns, highlighted with gold brocade at their waists, made a magnificent entrance down either side of the great staircase to the applause of Patrick's earlier guests and the unashamedly admiring glances of many of the males. Patrick himself met them at the foot of the stairs, offering them an arm each and escorting them through the throng, making introductions as he went.
Dinner was a feast of Victorian proportions and, largely, to Victorian recipes as Mrs. Phillips, Patrick's cook and housekeeper, was something of a culinary historian and Patrick had learned quickly that indulging her brought him the most appetising rewards.
The Twins sat either side of him, at the head of the long table, and practiced being lady-like – something their mother had insisted was a very necessary skill, even in these 'modern' times. The way Diane, their mother, said 'modern' it should by rights have only had four letters. She spat the word out like an expletive on those rare occasions she uttered it at all. Cas and Pol had learned their lessons well and charmed the whole table – especially the men-folk.
After dinner, Patrick played the Steinway in the ballroom and a few couples took to the floor for a dance or two, for which a half-decent hi-fi provided accompaniment. They gathered around the piano to sing carols before some guests – those with furthest to drive home – took their leave. By Midnight, Patrick and the Twins were waving goodbye to the last of the revellers as headlights briefly illuminated the gateposts at the end of the drive.
"We have a gift for you." Glancing at her sister for approval and receiving the briefest nod, Polly took a tiny box from her purse and handed it to Patrick.
As he took the box, Patrick could feel her hand trembling. "What is it?" He turned it over and over in his hands: It was small enough to be a box of matches.
"Open it." Said Cassy, standing close to her sister now, holding her hand for moral support.
Noting their nerves, Patrick, intrigued, carefully opened the box. Inside was a pair of cherries, still joined by their stalks. He held them up, puzzled. "Again I ask. What is it?" Being English, his grasp of American colloquialism was poor.
"Patrick," Polly used his given name for the first time, instead of the childish honorific 'uncle'. "Patrick... It's us. Cassy and I...We..."
"We're eighteen!" Blurted Cassy.
"We've discussed it and we want you to have our cherries." There! She'd said it.
"Pardon?" Patrick had finally twigged to what they were suggesting. He just couldn't bring himself to believe them.
Thinking he still didn't understand, Cassy elaborated. "We've always shared everything – been identical. We want our first lover to be a shared experience too."
"And we figured, with your experience and-"
"And because you've always taken care of us." Cassy found her hand empty as Polly stepped close to Patrick and took one of his hands in both of hers, raising it to kiss his fingertips.
Patrick stood stunned.
Cassy followed her sister's lead, taking and kissing Patrick's other hand then holding it to her bosom.
"You're crazy! Both of you." Patrick found his thoughts. He pulled his hands away from them but the memory of that warm, soft breast, under his palm, was burning in his brain. He felt his manhood stir in his trousers at that brief intimate contact.
Tears welled up in the twins' eyes at his rejection. Without a word, they took each other's hands and ascended the stairs. As they reached the top, Patrick heard a sniff, nothing more.
10-08-2014, 09:44 PM
Bloody hell! He thought. Where on Earth did they get a crazy notion like that? He was fifty for Heaven's sake. Oh, certainly he was not past noticing pretty girls and they were certainly in that category but the twins... the twins were practically family. But in his pants, the serpent stirred. Temptation dangled two cherries before him, saying "Bite. Taste the sweet fruit just once." And that warmth against his hand... He needed a cold bath.
There was a squelch as he turned, treading on the fallen fruit. Looking down, he stooped to pick up the box and the pulped remains of its contents. The stickiness on his fingers brought back memories of three decades of sexual encounters. That's how they usually started – sticky fingers. He shook such thoughts from his head as the serpent roused itself further, warmed by his memories.
"Will there be anything else tonight, Major?" Phillips' arrival brought him back down to Earth.
"No. Thank you, Phillips. My compliments to your wife: She surpassed herself tonight."
"I'll tell her." Phillips took the empty box and crushed fruit from the Major's hand. "Goodnight Sir. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Phillips."
Alone again in the hall, Patrick shrugged and started up the stairs to his room. He'd think of some way to soothe the twins' bruised egos in the morning. He'd enjoyed too much wine for clear thoughts tonight.
* * * * *
Cassy and Polly wept against each other for a few minutes in the sanctity of the Rose Room.
"Plan B." Polly finally announced.
"Plan B." Cassy concurred, moving just far enough from her sister to turn around. "Unzip me, Sis." As her dress whispered down her body, pooling at her feet, she turned back to her sister. "Think this'll work any better?" She spread her arms, and rotated through 360 degrees clad only in sheer white silk panties, a suspender belt, stockings and 2 ½ inch heels.
"It had better. We don't have a Plan C." Polly turned to be unzipped and stripped down to match her twin. Tears forgotten, two nervously giggling girls tripped lightly along the landing to Patrick's room, letting themselves in and arranging themselves decorously on his bedspread.
In the darkness, they lightly touched each other, kissing fondly, not just because they were lovers as much as sisters but also because they reckoned their best chance of arousing Patrick in the right way was to be caught in flagrante. They'd thought a lot about whether they should be fully naked or not and decided Patrick would probably be more stirred by their underwear.
The door creaked open and Patrick's hand found the light switch, bathing the twins in an eye-blinking dazzle. "What the-"
Polly kissed her sister with renewed vigour, playing to their audience. Her hand cupped Cassy's bare breast, teasing the already perky nipple between her fingers. She squirmed against Cassy's hand between her legs, pressing moist silk against moist velvet. Patrick just stared.
Cassy had the advantage of being able to see his reaction – or lack of it. She pushed her hand deeper between Polly's thighs, urging her legs apart so that Patrick couldn't fail to see where her hand was. She waited until his gaze fell to Polly's flanks before easing her sister's gusset aside and letting her finger trail over her anus, her perineum and finally, ever so slowly, along her glistening, downy labia. Polly moaned at the touch. Patrick, transfixed, hesitantly touched the bulge in his trousers. Cassy smiled at that, tweaking one of her sister's labia between thumb and finger, drawing her slightly open. She gasped as Polly responded, squeezing Cassy's nipple hard.
"It's all for you Patrick." Cassy husked. "Make her a woman."
"Both of us." Polly whispered, her voice hoarse with passion.
Patrick's defences collapsed. He reached for his zipper. Cassy, seeing their victory, sprung off the bed to help him, kneeling to unbuckle his belt and ease down his formal trousers.
His swollen member poked out from his shorts, gleaming and taut. Her hesitant fingers touched his glans, feeling it twitch. It was beautiful. So proud. So strong. She knew now that they'd made a good choice. Tearing herself away from the newfound wonder, she stood and pressed close against Patrick, hooking her arms around his neck and kissing him passionately, finding him all too willing to return the favour. The hot hard flesh between them dug into her belly, urging her to press herself even more firmly against him.
On the bed, Polly rolled onto her back to watch, her own hand replacing Cassy's. She eased a finger in as far as her hymen, wincing at the pressure on that sensitive membrane. Patrick opened his eyes, glancing past Cassy's hair to the bed. His gaze took in all of Polly's pale flesh but centred on her curls and that figleaf hand. She took her hand away, holding it out to him, beckoning him to join her on the bed.
Patrick lifted Cassy off her feet and placed her beside her sister. He nearly tore his shirt off, over his head, kicked off his shoes and pants and dropped to his knees beside them. His body was still well toned: Years in the military had given him a good physique and he was active enough to maintain it. The hair on his chest was as grey as it was at his temples but that was as low as the grey went. He certainly looked virile enough where it mattered to the twins.
Cassy scooched up the bed and drew Polly's head into her lap, reaching out to tease her nipples. Polly smiled nervously up at her twin and spread her legs wide. Polly was eldest by ten minutes: It was only right she be first.
Patrick drew Polly's ankles back together then reached for the waistband of her panties, drawing them down. She bent her knees to accommodate this then opened her legs again at the light pressure of his touch. Patrick's lustful gaze fell on the fissure of her sex, on the musky, glistening curls above and on the shadow within shadows lower down. Leaning close then closer, he pressed his face against her curls, inhaling the perfume of young flesh.
Polly's belly rose and fell as her heavy breath rocked her bosom under Cassy's palm. A gasp escaped her parted lips as Patrick's tongue darted at her clitoral hood. She was no stranger to oral pleasure but his technique was so totally different to Cassy's: so much more aggressive, so forceful. He lashed at her clitoris with a ferocity that was almost painful but delightful in equal measure. It was like an appetizer for the pain she desperately wanted to feel.
Patrick's hands weren't idle. His fingers curled like claws under her buttocks, lifting her flanks to his mouth. As her climax rose within her, stifling her breath, Patrick lurched forward, taking his weight on his outstretched arms and looking down into her eyes.
"Guide me." He ordered.
Polly obeyed, reaching for his erection, amazed at how hot it felt in her hand. She guided the weeping head to her pussy, pressing his glans to her tight hole. As she released her grip, Patrick thrust into her with a grunt that was drowned out by the shrill cry Polly let out as her hymen tore under the pressure of his penetration. Her vagina seized about his member as the climax he'd just denied her rushed through her body, turning pain into ecstatic joy.
Patrick rocked gently inside her, enjoying the pulsing caress of her cunny. As she came down again, he slowly started to fuck her properly, gently, delighting in her gasps each time he pushed into her tender body. Feeling that tightening in his balls that warned of climax, he pulled out, splashing long strings of white semen up her sweat moist abdomen with a long sigh of release.
Cassy, who had held her sister throughout, leant down to kiss her. Polly touched the cooling wet seed on her belly, scooping a little up on a couple of fingers and lifting it to Cassy's lips. After a moment's hesitation, Cassy sucked the traces of white off Polly's fingers then kissed her sister deeply once more. In this manner, the twins got their first taste of semen.
Patrick, watching this sapphic ritual and catching his breath, couldn't help but be aroused by the sight of the twins swapping spit and semen – his semen. A glance at his cock showed that the old soldier was not yet ready to retire from the fray and the sight between Polly's still spread legs – her cunny crimson with the traces of blood – stirred him even more.
Cassy felt a strong hand on her ankle, drawing her further down the bed. She broke off kissing Polly and allowed herself to be dragged closer to Patrick. He didn't have the look of a man willing to wait. Polly lay back, easing her thighs together with a slight wince. When Patrick let go of Cassy's foot, Polly snuggled up to her sister, drawing a diamond hard nipple between her teeth. Her hand stretched down past Cassy's waistband, finger sliding under the elastic and over her curls in search of her clit.
Patrick could see the dark line of moist silk – a testament to how aroused Cassy was. He peeled off the knickers, the better to see what Polly's fingers were up to. Briefly, he lapped at her labia, leaving her clitoris to her sister, working his tongue into her in search of her maidenhead. The sensation of the tip of his tongue touching her virginal hymen almost had him coming there and then. Cassy was clearly more than ready. Lifting her knees up and wide, He lifted her hips off the bed.
"Polly, push a pillow under her." He held Cassy up while her twin propped up her haunches with a pillow, then, shuffling within striking distance he let Polly's fingers guide him to the mark. Cassy looked suddenly terribly apprehensive, biting at her bottom lip. He waited for a moment for her to release her lip lest she bite right into it as he breached her. As soon as she relaxed, he plunged in, making her squeal.
Polly turned Cassy's head with a fingertip and kissed her, her fingers resuming their caresses over Cassy's clitoris. Patrick pumped her slowly, feeling the trembling spasms as pain clenched her around him. She came quickly, gasping into her sister's mouth and squirming on the flesh that impaled her. This time, Patrick didn't have time to withdraw, grunting as he flooded her cunny with boiling semen. All passion spent, Patrick collapsed forward, his full weight on top of Cassy. She relaxed under the weight, feeling the ebbing waves of her orgasm dissipate. Patrick soon enough rolled off her, exhausted.
10-08-2014, 09:44 PM
"Thank you, Uncle." Polly leant across Cassy's body to kiss him fondly on the cheek.
"Yes, Uncle. It's the best Christmas present you've ever given us." Cassy smiled, her eyes sparkled with satisfaction and smugness despite the tenderness she felt down there.
"I thought you were my present." Patrick managed.
"It was both. We gave you our virginities. You gave us our womanhood." Polly crawled carefully over the two supine bodies to lie close on Uncle Patrick's other side, perilously close to the edge of the mattress too. She snuggled against his shoulder and closed her eyes. "Can we sleep here tonight, Uncle?"
"Only if one of you turns out the light."
Polly sighed but knew that Cassy was in no condition to stand up. Gingerly she climbed off the bed and padded barefoot and bare-assed, but still in her stockings and sussies, as far as the light switch. In the sudden darkness she found her way back to bed, lifting the covers this time. Cassy did have to stand, with Patrick's strong arm for support, so that the three of them could actually get into bed. Cool cotton sheets and warm blankets were just what the doctor ordered. The girls cuddled up to Patrick and slept despite his snoring – well that's what you get for sleeping on your back.
* * * * *
"And that, Dear Man, is the sordid tale of our lost virginity." Cassy concluded.
"Shocked?" Polly asked from close behind Mike's ear, her tone mischievous.
"Hell yeah! You two were still untried at eighteen? England must be full of fags and eunuchs."
"Not full. But we're fussy. Besides we wanted a lover who'd teach us something, not an innocent who knew even less than us."
"And, oh boy, did Uncle teach us some things." Polly whispered.
"In Fact, he spoiled it for all the boys back in college. We tried a few of them after that Xmas."
"But none measured up."
"So we stuck with each other."
"And probably saved our family's reputation because the few guys we did have turned out to be monumentally indiscrete."
"We're twins you see."
"I'd noticed." Mike said. "But you were meant to be explaining how the shop got its name."
"Oh that!" Polly chuckled to herself then continued. "On Christmas Morning, Patrick presented us with the painting..."
"One of his most treasured possessions." Cassy interjected.
"Because he said we were two very game birds."
"No!" Mike stifled a laugh. It was just too corny.
"Yes. He was a dear man and a wonderful lover but his sense of humour was somewhat basic." Cassy was smirking too.
"Speaking of bad jokes, do you girls know the difference between light and hard?"
"I can sleep with this light on."
A pair of small hands rummaged under the duvet to check the punch line.
"Poor Boy!" Polly cooed. "Perhaps a nice cold shower would help you sleep."
Cassy just laughed and reached for the light switch. "Save it for tomorrow, Michael. Sweet dreams."
"Goodnight." Mike groaned in disappointment.
* * * * *
"Oh God!...Yes...YES...Do it!...Ooooh" Cassy gripped the pillow with white knuckled fists as Mike hammered home his cock, his rough hands dragging her hips back against each thrust. If this was his revenge for getting him so wound up last night, they should leave him high and dry all the time.
Polly, lying naked beside them, skin shiny with perspiration from Mike's first performance, stroked her clitoris with gentle fingers and watched Mike's face as he came. She didn't need to look to know what Cassy's expression was: She'd be biting her lower lip and dilating her nostrils like she always did.
"What's up, Mister?" Polly asked, when her sister and their lover had stopped panting. Mike was unusually quiet and his expression was pensive to say the least. The twins were curled together like a couple of puppies, gently touching each other in the tactile language of long-time lovers.
Mike lay on his back, his flaccid, slick cock resting across his thigh. "Triste est omne animal post coitum."
"I know that one!" Cassy sat up. "It's Aristotle. 'All animals are sad after sex.'"
"Galen, not Aristotle." Mike didn't turn his head to look at Cassy as he corrected her.
"You sure? Yes, of course you are. I keep forgetting how much light you hide under your bushel." She slid over to him, draping herself over his arm and pressing her breasts to his chest as she kissed him, receiving a less than enthusiastic response. "But it doesn't matter who said it. What matters is that you said it just now. What's up?"
"I'm gonna miss this job. It's been a great three days and I don't know how I'm gonna cope with going back to just being the handyman around here."
"Did I miss something?" Asked Polly over her sister's shoulder. "Did you get canned by Sis and I missed it?"
"Shush, Pol. Michael, it may take us months to get pregnant so 'this job' is hardly over. However, Polly wants to keep you as a pet-"
"Cassy! I never said 'as a pet'!"
"-And I agree with her. I figure you're probably easier to housetrain than a dog." Cassy was grinning at him. She punctuated the sentence with another kiss, which gave time for Mike to realize what they were suggesting.
"That'll get curtains twitching. I thought being discrete was part of the arrangement. Do you really think people won't notice?"
"They're gonna notice soon enough when we get big bellies." Polly pointed out. "Who d'you think they'll suspect? Our best friend? The bloke who all the Kelly's regulars know is hung like a porn star? Honey, you'd be the prime suspect even if you were innocent."
"So, since you'll get the blame anyway, you might as well..." Cassy pressed her cheek to his and hugged him tight. She smiled to herself when she felt his arms encircle her too.
"I don't suppose you kept a copy of that tape? We never got to see it." Polly asked him.
* * * * *
It was Saturday 2nd of July. The prospect of a long weekend had brought the Manhattanites up to the Hamptons, temporarily doubling the population. Kelly's Bar and Grill was heaving with walking wallets in check shirts and brand new Timberland boots.
"Jeez!" muttered Mike, "These guys must thing paved roads haven't reached here yet. Indoor plumbing must be such a disappointment to them."
"Will you please shut the fuck up." Hissed Pat. "Who d'you think pays this town's bills?"
"I know we need them but-"
"But nothing. Is that pump fixed yet?"
"Try it now." Mike extricated himself from under the bar, wrench in hand.
"Better. Not great, but better."
"I've told you before, Pat, you need a new pump."
"And what's that gonna cost me? Huh?"
"About the same as you've paid me to nursemaid this piece of shit for the last year and a half. Only you wouldn't have the pleasure of my company on a weekly basis."
"Pleasure?" Pat looked upwards. "No. Can't say that's the word I'd use."
"That's thirty bucks then. I'll go wash up. Give you time to say goodbye to those presidents."
"Thanks." Mike took the proffered bottle and pulled hard on its neck as he made for the washroom.
When he came out, Mike saw Jo-Jo, his girlfriend and Pat's barmaid, sat firmly on some guy's lap. It wasn't that some out-of-towner was getting fresh with his girl – that went with the territory. No, it was the fact that the hand on her ass hadn't been slapped away. Friends had warned him about Jo-Jo from the start but, hey, what guy listens to that sort of advice? Seeing red, Mike went over to the table, gripped Jo-Jo's upper arm and hauled her to her feet.
"Hey! What the..." Her protest petered out as she spun around and came face to face with her boyfriend.
"What the fuck d'you think you're doing?" Mike growled at her.
"Hey! Now wait a minute Buddy." The New Yorker stood to intercede. "The Lady was just being friendly."
"Sit down." Mike's free hand pushed the man's chest, plonking him firmly back down on his ass.
"Christ, Mikey. It was only a bit of fun." Jo-Jo got defensive.
"C'mon. We're going home. Pat'll just have to manage without you tonight."
"No Mikey!" She halted, pulling him up short and wincing at the vice-like grip on her arm. "I'm not going anywhere. I need the money and I'm just doing my job. Hear that Mikey? It's my job. Nothing more!" They had everyone's attention now. Domestics in bars always make for good viewing.
The problem was, Mike had heard the rumours and it was getting kinda hard to ignore them. What rumours? Oh, the ones about Jo-Jo's little flings.
"Go home, Mikey." Jo-Jo intruded upon his thoughts, her voice calm now, placating.
"So you can make out with that... that city boy? No way."
"Fuck you then!" Her voice was climbing both the harmonic and decibel scales. "It's my body and-"
"You come home right now or I'll...I'll..."
"You'll what?" Jo-Jo sounded petulant.
"I'll..." Mike's rage stalled. He let go of her arm, turned and walked towards the door.
"Thought so!" Jo-Jo sneered. She'd been getting bored of Mike anyway. She'd get Daddy to send a trooper round to the pond for her stuff in the morning. Being the sheriff's daughter had some perks.
Jo-Jo didn't have to wait until morning. Within an hour, Mike returned with three stuffed rubbish bags and a video tape. He practically threw the bags containing all her worldly goods at Jo-Jo and while she was blustering and demanding this, that and the other, he strode straight to the big screen TV and stuck the tape into the VCR. Then he called for everyone's attention.
"As those of you who were here earlier will know, Jo-Jo's decided to be single again and since she's also announced that sitting on customer's laps and letting them feel her up is a career move, I've brought along her CV." He pressed play.
A 54" image of Jo-Jo, stark naked, filled the screen. The only thing stopping the whole bar from seeing her pussy – and the whole bar was definitely watching, including a shell-shocked Jo-Jo – was her hand, rubbing frantically between her legs.
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