Story codes: MFgg12, inc, cons
Summary: 12-year-old twins meet for the first time since they were infants and, after discovering the truth, conspire to make theirs one family—one very happy family.
The following work of fiction is written by Admiral Cartwright (a pseudonym) and presented for entertainment purposes only. Copyright © effective 2000. Distribution of this material or of any predecessor(s) for profit and/or with this information abridged shall constitute a violation of intellectual property law and may result in some serious shit. Unless, of course, you ask the author first.
Double Take is inspired in part by the various incarnations of Das doppelte Lottchen by Erich Kästner. This treatment loosely adapts general scenarios to create an all-new exploration of the identical-twins-split-at-birth conceit, and how the characters’ sex lives may have developed. As such, the author asserts that no fair-use rationale is required.
This treatment is in no way intended to represent the actions, real or scripted, of any participant in the novelisation or in no fewer than six motion pictures since produced thereon. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is entirely speculative, your honor.
“Absolutely the best treatment of the separated twins idea I have ever read.”
“Wickedly written, brilliant storyline—I loved the ‘and they all lived happily ever after’ ending.”
“A great combination of innocence and sexiness.”
“Very few authors can write intelligent erotica involving kids. The Admiral is one.”
“A masterpiece of fiction.”
PLEASE READ: written descriptions of sexual activity have been determined by numerous courts and legislatures worldwide to be lawful to produce and consume, including depictions of ‘UA’ characters. However, such law may not apply in your area of origin; further, readers may be required to be of legal age in their respective locations. If your local laws prohibit you from consuming such material, stop now.
The author does not endorse or condone sexual activity involving persons deemed by applicable law to be incapable of consent thereto.
Sandi was looking into a mirror. She had to be! It was the only way she could explain the face staring back at her.
The 12-year-old Texan thought she had seen everything—until now. Sandra Farber also had thought she was the best at everything until the girl now wearing her face beat her decisively in the archery contest.
A long line of young ladies just about her own age had tried their hand at the difficult sport, quickly narrowing the field to two; as she walked up to stand behind her now sole opponent, Sandi took quick note of the girl’s hair: it’s her! She’s the one!
Sandi had spent what seemed like two whole days just walking up to wherever as this girl was just leaving. All she ever saw was hair remarkably like her own. Now, three feet from her face, she could see it was exactly alike! A few inches longer, but otherwise the same.
Her opponent finished loading her bow and turned her face toward the target. Sandi could see the girl’s eyebrow and cheekbone; she tried craning her neck to get a better look.
It would prove sufficiently distracting. Sandra Farber missed the target altogether, and lost—for the first time in her life. Then the victor turned to face her, and Sandi experienced another first: a loss for words.
So, she and her mirror image just stood there ... staring. Four eyes wide; two jaws agape.
“Now, Sandra,” came an adult voice nearby, but disembodied; so intent was she on the deception burning through her eyes that nearly all else was nonexistent. “Be a good sport, and shake hands,” the now-distant admonishment continued.
“B–but she cheated,” Sandi blurted out, and immediately scrunched her nose. The bald-faced lie was something she obviously could not back up in front of literally dozens of witnesses. Nor could she back down. Sandi was stuck with her words, and they to her.
“I beg your pardon,” came the polished response of a highly insulted preteen-ager. Sandi blinked, her eyes growing wide yet again.
It was day three at summer camp. The lush, impossibly picture-postcard-perfect forests bordering Lake Superior were the perfect backdrop for Camp Keweenaw, an exclusive warm-weather home of sorts for thousands of girls from all over the continent. The six-week-long diversion even attracted a few imports. Sandi already had heard the obviously English accent, one she knew so well from old Benny Hill reruns and bad movies further butchered on MST3K.
(Sandra Farber had a wicked sense of humour. Living next to herds of cattle and spending every waking moment with the young sons of ranch hands can do that to a girl.)
Now that accent had a face—and it was her own!
Sarah Lotrice too was stunned; first, by the incredible resemblance between the two, then by the accusation against her impeccable character. “How dare you accuse me of cheating?”
“You—you distracted me,” Sandi retorted, trying vainly to use some semblance of the truth to her advantage.
“I cannot see how I could possibly—”
“Girls!” The activities director no longer was amused by a seeming case of sibling rivalry, more right even than she could know. The whispering and giggling exhibited by the rest of her young charges was not helping matters, either. “Shake hands!”
“Me? Shake hands?” Sandi repeated, feigning innocence. She turned back to face her opponent, her expression suddenly cold. “I don’t shake hands with no outlaws, ‘Robin Hood’,” she drawled, playing her role to its hilt.
Sandra Farber then turned on her heels, leaving her twin wearing the same stunned expression she’d adopted when she’d turned around only moments earlier.
Sarah lay in her bed in the cabin chosen for her by random drawing earlier that week. The woodland ambience provided background harmony to the melodious snoring of the other Iroquois—the tribal name this group of girls would bear for the next six weeks.
Wonderful, she thought; I would get the loudest cabinmates in the whole bloody camp.
Unable to sleep, the 12-year-old Londoner finally considered relieving herself. Masturbation was far too personal a thing to Sarah to risk sharing inadvertently with anyone else, but the day’s events had left her uptight. Tonight, I need this, she reasoned.
Slowly raising her knees to make a small tent with her bedclothes, Sarah moved her hand equally gingerly to her pubis. Remaining outside the soft cotton of her knickers, she began the one diversion that most betrayed the otherwise prim little lady everyone knew. Then again, no one here truly knew her. Besides, she thought, I well might not be the only one ...
Four cabins away, Sandi too could not sleep, unlike her fellow Apaches. That random choice had been all too appropriate for the girl from Cypress, Texas. That, however, was not foremost in her young mind.
The preteen was a-jumble with all sorts of conflicting emotions. She wanted to apologise to that girl with her eyes, her nose, her hair—hell, her everything—but she couldn’t decide whether that would cause her to lose face even more.
Woo yeah, that’s ironic, she thought.
Just then, the ‘feeling’ hit her.
Sarah’s dainty fingers were painting a vertical line up and down her still hairless sex, slowly traversing the entire length between her young anus and the top of her mound; back and forth, over and over. The familiar warmth was beginning to course through her very being, inching ever so slowly to the precipice past which lay no return.
The otherwise perfect little lady now concentrated on the little button that seemed to illuminate every nerve in her body, taking the long-distance trip to the pleasure center in her brain. So good, she thought. So good ...
Sandi sat bolt upright in her bed, stifling the urge to gasp out loud. She’d never before experienced the ‘feeling’ without her father present. There was no explanation for it here: she’d seen the boys on the ranch make sex play with each other, and wondered what another girl might feel like with her; but the thought inspired no particular emotion, it was just ... there. Sandi’s cabin, of course, was filled only with other young girls, a few of whom she’d already made friends with; none caused any feelings.
Slowly, her head found the pillow again and she thought maybe she’d been dreaming. The ‘feeling’ had stopped, and she tried again to close her eyes and wipe out the day. God a’mighty, let it end ... let it go ...
Bother, Sarah almost said aloud. The girl in the next bunk had turned over noisily and she thought for a moment she’d been caught. The loudest snoring of them all then proceeded to awaken yet more of the group; some of the girls giggled playfully at the noise, while others groaned loudly. Finally, after what seemed like forever, one camper got up and gently pushed the offender to her side. Relative quiet eventually returned as the girls drifted, one by one, back to sleep.
Now, Sarah relaxed again, resuming her ministrations. The little button atop her slit pulsed, as if begging its master for attention like a lovesick puppy. Sarah answered the silent beckoning, flicking her finger again outside her prim cotton knickers, faster and faster.
She knew from her grandfather’s books that playing with her ‘clitoris’ led her to experience an ‘orgasm’, and she knew from experience that they were more powerful after going without for a few days. This one seemed to start from the sheets and fill her body slowly like a bottle, until it reached the tips of her nipples, standing proudly atop B-cup breasts big enough to make a few of the older girls jealous. Clamping her teeth together hard, Sarah came even harder, trying harder still to squelch the violent shaking her young body would experience each time she went over the edge.
In her ragged dream, Sandi was swimming in the bay. The water suddenly had become choppy and violent, lifting her higher and higher toward some unseen peak. The cool bay was getting hot; the waves lapping against her nakedness until one came crashing down hard ...
Sandi awoke suddenly, clutching her legs tightly together as her whole body was racked by shakes. Quickly, the orgasming girl buried her head under her pillow while she rode out the throes of her pleasure like an unbroken horse. “Oh ... my ... God!!” she screamed into the mattress, unheard by the sleeping preteens sharing her cabin. Waves and waves swept over her, unabating, unforgiving, unprovoked!
As suddenly, it was over.
Sarah’s head reeled from the unusual power of her orgasm. Her knickers were soaked, but she knew if she tried to arise and retrieve a fresh pair from her footlocker, the aroma of her sex would permeate the cabin.
I’ll just have to get used to it for the night, she thought as she rolled over and went straight into a sound sleep.
Never before had Sandi come alone and with no apparent reason, and she realised she actually was scared! Where the fuck did that come from, she thought. Why here, why now? Hoo-wee, you are losin’ it, girl!
No, no, get a grip, Sandi admonished herself. There’s a reason for this, there’s gotta be; and, doggonit, I’m gonna find it.
It would not be a restful night.
“Oh, damn,” Sarah allowed herself the mild oath, an evil grin spreading across her porcelain features. “You can’t ever trust those bloody ‘outlaws’, can you, now?”
Sandi coughed up a gulp of bay water and turned, nearly waist deep in the murk. The giggling Brit skipped off, her twin’s stare putting the water’s temperature to shame. Ya wanna play, huh? Sandi said to herself, an unknown fate now sealed. Well, you just moseyed into the wrong snake pit!
“That bee-otch!” said Ashley.
“Huh?” Sandi answered intelligently.
The Texan’s cabinmate repeated, “Bee-otch. It’s kinda like a nice way to say ‘bitch’ without the ’rents knowing about it.”
“Rents?” Now Sandi really felt dumb.
The perennial California blue-eyed blonde looked at the Texan like she was from another planet. “Parents, you nutbar!” Ashley sighed.
“Well, sor-reeee,” Sandi let the last syllable linger. “I guess I’m not like up on ‘Cali-flaky’,” she added with a toothy grin.
“Oh, you’re just tooooo cute,” the Californian bristled playfully, the victim yet again of the Texas girl’s sharp tongue. “So, like, what are we gonna do about your evil clone?”
“Dunno,” drawled the response. “I’ll thinka something.”
Yeah, I’ll get that—what was it again—bee-otch, all right. I’ll git ’er good!
That night, it was Sandi’s turn to be horny. She missed her Pa’s tongue, and the gentle but insistent ministrations that brought her to an explosive cum. It gave her an idea.
After lights out and after Sandi was sure her cabinmates were asleep, she raised her knees and carefully peeled off her underwear. Parting her legs, she licked her finger until it was coated with her saliva and moved it toward her preteen slit.
Gently at first, Sandi flicked her fingertip over the throbbing love-button at the top of her young sex. It responded, sending a shiver through her consciousness. Sliding downward, Sandi dipped a finger gingerly into her honey pot, bringing even more moisture with it back to the top of her hairless pussy. Her clit pulsed with wanton pleasure, beginning the journey to orgasm.
“Mum’s a doctor, actually,” Sarah continued, her new friends hanging on to every word. “Grandfather always said she didn’t take well to working with dead cows so she left his leather business years ago. He’s retired n—”
The Londoner stiffened, her eyes suddenly wide as saucers. “Ex—excuse me, I must ... um, be ... uh, use the lavatory, sorry!” she stuttered as she stood quickly and ran outside her cabin.
“What’s a lav-uh-tree?” asked one girl.
“The bathroom,” answered another.
“Shit, I’ve never had to go that bad.”
Sandi plunged two digits now, as deep inside her preteen pussy as they would go. The index finger of her other hand continued flicking across the tiny, throbbing knob of flesh that seemed to extend to meet her touch. Sandi gasped as her orgasm began, biting her lip to keep from rousing the other girls snoring softly nearby.
The first wave slammed hard into her, sending Sandi convulsing into the atmosphere, into orbit. The feeling seemed to carry her home to Texas; the best turbulence a girl ever could want. Her eyelids squeezed tightly, sending stars across her retinas. Eventually, she came down from her natural, sexual high, totally spent. Whoo, what am I, homesick? she asked herself before conscious thought left her.
Sandra Farber slept.
Sarah awoke to a faint nibbling at her nose. The squirrel jumped, fleeing into the darkness. What the devil, she started the thought, then managed to find the backlight to her watch. Four-thirty! My God, I must be bloody gone!
Then she remembered: she’d experienced the unmistakable warmth of her orgasm. But ... why now?
The wet dream she’d experienced in the middle of many a night was freaky enough; Sarah simply assumed it was an aftershock of sorts to her evening masturbation. Now, she had to wonder.
The 12-year-old Brit slowly padded back inside the cabin and crawled weakly into her bed.
Sarah, too, slept.
“She’s always first in the shower. Every morning,” said Ashley.
“Every time,” added Marisa.
Sandi smiled at her Apache partners in crime. “She uses the same nozzle every time, too?”
“Yup, every time,” came the answer. “But she didn’t look like she slept so good last night.”
“Good,” Sandi smirked, ignoring that last remark. “We got ’er!”
That night, the Texan and her two friends went to work. One already had filled a balloon with water and put it in an ice chest. They’d found some of the heavy cord used to hold up banners, and borrowed a large safety pin. Tying the cord to the crank on the tiny window too high to see through without a stool, the other was secured to the shower head. There, they waited until just before dawn.
Marisa then closed the safety pin over the end of the balloon. The cord already had been threaded through the small loop at the pin’s other end. Marisa slid the makeshift water bomb to Ashley on a stepstool, who then pushed the balloon to the window. Both girls then scurried outside to join Sandi, who stood on a chair stacked upon a table; hand through the window, she held the balloon gingerly, waiting for Sarah’s arrival.
She didn’t have to wait long.
The prim Brit slid off her robe and stood before the shower, blinking with the early-morning light, trying to adjust. At least she’d actually spent the whole night in her bed this time. As she reached for the nozzle, Sandi let the ice-cold balloon go, gravity quickly taking over.
An ear-piercing scream echoed off the nearby mountains.
“Did you see who was with her?” asked Kayla. 14 years old, the Iroquois-for-the-summer stood head-and-shoulders above many of the other girls and looked for all the world like she was ready to go kick some Apache ass.
“No, I saw but a glimpse as they rounded a corner. She was the leader, certainly,” the Brit finished with obvious distaste.
“Then,” the bigger girl reasoned, “we’ll just hoff to go get the whole bloody cabin!”
Sarah winced slightly at the bad accent, but that quickly was hidden as an evil grin spread across her beautiful young face.
Sandi never saw her ‘clone’ that day. She had to admit she was surprised, more sure than ever that she would be in for some sort of payback. But, it never happened. By nightfall, the Texan had begun to relax.
A giggle-filled recap of the day’s events, varying wildly from girl to girl, finally died down as the ‘Apaches‘ drifted off for the night. Something about the usual easy camaraderie seemed a little off to Sandi; something ... outside ... but she couldn’t quite place it. Besides, she was too tired to care much; sleep soon would envelop her, too.
Thus, the wait was over for the silent Iroquois, and the work began.
Was it Reveille, or the rooster? Sandi wasn’t sure what had awakened her, but she was certain that a string didn’t belong across her face. Instinctively, she batted at the obstruction, unwittingly setting a chain of events into motion.
A scream next to her brought Sandra upright, to see her closest cabinmate suddenly dripping wet. Water balloons fell, one by one, onto the other Apaches until everyone was soaked, save Sandi. The realisation that she, too, must be a target didn’t hit her as fast as did the largest balloon by far, the spray hitting the floor on either side of her bed from at least a gallon of cold water.
(And not just ANY water; this had the unmistakable aroma of the lake, mixed with animal scents that left the whole room smelling like a rural dairy.)
Sandi’s cabinmates glared at her knowingly; this was not meant so much for them as for her, but she’d left them vulnerable, too. The 12-year-old tomboy from Texas suddenly felt outnumbered like never before, and out of her element. So did the Camp Director, walking in as if on cue.
The full impact of the girls’ resemblance never was more apparent than now, as they stood at attention, shoulders inches apart, facing the camp’s elders. “Such disgraceful conduct from sisters, of all people,” said the Camp Director.
Sandra Farber and Sarah Lotrice looked at each other in obvious distaste, Sandi piping up first. “She ain’t no sister o’ mine,” she said.
The women suddenly looked like rebuffed English teachers, but held their collective tongues. One finally responded, “They’re not sisters. Hard to believe, eh?”
“Maybe they were separated at birth,” another joked, chuckling at her own wisecrack until the silent glares shut her down.
“Hmpf,” grunted the stateswoman. “Regardless, they’re about to get closer than ever.” Standing with some effort, the elder woman slowly circled the pre-pubescent girls as they tried for all the world to stand perfectly still, as if the lack of motion somehow could stifle the scrutiny.
“I’ve not stood for hanky-panky, not in 40 years at Camp Keweenaw,” the woman crowed with pride. “I’ll give you a choice. The two of you are going to spend the rest of camp together, and alone. Or,” the option lingered, “we’re calling your parents to come get you.
“And, we keep the money they paid to send you here.”
Oh, no, both girls thought as one. ‘We told you you’re still too young’? No way they were going to listen to that. Yet, Sandra and Sarah couldn’t help but glance at each other in apprehension. A thought seemed to pass between the girls. “We’d prefer to stay,” Sarah offered confidently. Sandi nodded her agreement.
“You will,” continued the Camp Director, “either learn to get along with each other, or you’ll punish yourselves far better than I could!”
Just wonderful, Sarah thought. Shee-it, echoed Sandi.
It took most of the day to move all but two bunks from the farthest cabin to all the others, each taking on one more Comanche, or Sioux, or Choctaw. The two lookalikes now were lone Tehachapi, not that it mattered much. Sandi and Sarah were required to sleep and eat isolated from the rest, but that didn’t mean they had to spend every waking moment together.
Determined to stay as far apart as possible, both girls were exhausted from all the effort. Two nights later, when bedtime again arrived, they retired almost as one.
Sarah was the first to awaken to a drive she’d not fulfilled for about a week. She glanced nervously over to the cot on the other side of the cabin and saw, to her relief, that Sandi was asleep. Slowly, so as to avoid rousing her neighbour—the girl with her face—she raised both knees until access to her preteen sex was easy, and silent. The 12-year-old Brit began slowly to rub in the places she knew all too well.
Sandi, too, awoke to an unspoken desire. Her ‘clone’ seemed to be sleeping soundly, and now seemed as good a time as any. Slowly moving her hand south, her fingers found the button only beginning to pulse with a need for relief not felt in days.
Spreading her legs slowly, slightly, almost soundlessly, Sandra Farber began strumming the strings of her own sweet music, building to the crescendo that is orgasm. Familiar, yet distant, only closer somehow, the feelings welled up, stronger than ever.
It’s not been that long, Sarah thought, as carnal knowledge seemed to turn the page to the next lesson. The feelings expressed a whole new urgency, building to an unforeseen peak. Stronger, faster, doubled and more, the orgasm took over, slamming into the 12-year-old’s very being with shocking force.
God, all’a Texas’d be proud’a this, Sandi’s mind screamed, as her climax swept her off her bed and into oblivion, surprising the preteen with the sheer violence of its peak. She heard herself scream; her, and more. Back to Earth with a thud, Sandi sat straight up, staring into her own eyes from across the room.
“You—” Sarah started. “You were ... um, masturbating, weren’t you?” the Brit finished sheepishly.
“Yeah, so ...?” came Sandi’s retort, not sure whether she should be irritated.
“So was I.”
“Didn’t you feel it?” Sarah asked, nonplussed.
Now Sarah was edgy. “I’ve just done the most amazing orgasm of my entire life, and you too were screaming bloody heaven, and you don’t feel it?”
Sandi squinted; understanding, yet not. “You mean, like, we felt each other cum, or something?”
“Yuh huh,” Sandi answered. “Like, how’s that possible?”
“I’m not sure,” Sarah lied.
“Tell me,” began the Brit, “when did you start?”
“What, friggin’ off?”
“Frig—? Um, I suppose you’d call it that.”
“Couple’a years ago, I guess,” Sandi answered slowly. “I used’ta come home from school and see—um, well, then I got a funny warm feeling, and I started trying to make it go away at night.”
“What time did you get home from school?” Sarah asked, trying to ignore the discomfort her cabinmate suddenly was showing.
Sarah did some quick calculations. “Texas, six hours from Greenwich ... nine my time ... oh, my God! That’s when I ...” the thought trailed off. She’d already known, but wasn’t quite ready to accept it, until now. Suddenly, a light turned on. “Did you mas—uh, ‘frig off’, when you went to bed?”
“Shit, three a-m,” Sarah allowed herself the oath. “I came again at three a-m. Just when you ... do you know what this means?”
“We, uh ...” Realisation hit Sandi, her eyes suddenly like saucers. “Sssssarahhhh ... is ... I mean ... do you ... who’s your Pa?”
“We’ve never met.”
“Shit! And I ain’t never seen my Ma. You don’t guess ...”
Sarah slowly got up, crossing the expanse of the barren cabin to sit at the foot of Sandi’s bunk. “How old are you?”
“Twelve,” answered Sandi. “Just had my birthday not two months ago.”
Tears pooled in Sarah’s eyes, all doubt gone. “30th May?”
“Oh, my God,” Sandra cried. “We’re ... we’re twins!”
The girls hugged hard, sobbing with joy.
“Grandfather used to have a business making leather, you know, wallets, saddles, that sort of thing. Mother decided she’d rather work with living people than with dead cows.”
Sandi listened to her British twin with keen interest, understanding dawning on her. “Of course,” she said. “That’s how Pa met ’er, what with our ranch an’ all. Pa sent me to camp ’cause’a how hard I’ve worked to help him. And for bein’ such a good—uh, you know, worker,” Sandi caught herself.
“I’ve never been out of London before. Mum is so protective, she barely lets me from her view. She’s a doctor, you know.”
“Really? Whoo-ee, man, I’d love to ...”
Sandra turned suddenly to her twin. “Hey, y’wanna meet Pa?”
“Of course, I’d love—wait a moment, surely you’re not suggesting—”
Sarah rolled her eyes heavenward. Sandi burst out laughing.
“You bet I’m suggesting! We’re twins, right? How’re they t’know?”
“Oh, not a lot,” Sarah joked, “other than that we’re completely different.”
Sandi smiled. “Y’ain’t gonna wimp out on this one, are ya? C’mon, all we gotta do is a little play-acting.”
Sarah considered this for a moment. At worst, Mum and Dad would see each other for a few minutes while the girls were handed back to the proper parent. At best, maybe ... just maybe ...
“Y’all git ready to move ’em out,” Sarah said in her best southern drawl. Sandi laughed again ... this was going to be too easy.
They had, after all, three weeks ...
“You must be joking.”
“Nuh uh. You want to fool the ’rents, don’tcha?”
Sandi smirked, rolling her eyes. “Fergit it. If Ma and Pa are gonna believe we’re each other, we gotta know we can fool anybody, right?”
Sarah knew Sandi was right; she just didn’t want to perform in front of the whole bloody camp. “Must we? I’ve not even met your friends, and you’ve yet to meet mine!”
“But that’s kinda the point, right? I mean, that’s why we hadda practise so hard. For two weeks. Y’ain’t foolin’ anyone ’til you’re ready, and y’ain’t ready ’til you believe you’re Sandi Farber from Cypress, Texas.”
“You’ll not fool anyone speaking like that,” Sarah replied, grinning.
“I believe you shall find I am quite ready for the challenge,” Sandi shot back, with dead-on British precision. “Are you?”
The girls compared notes each night for their final week at Camp Keweenaw. The other girls occasionally caught misspoken words; the elders didn’t even notice. The last night of camp, Sarah felt like celebrating. She surprised her Texan twin with a naughty suggestion: “It’s been so long since we mast—uh, ‘frigged off’,” she said. “Let’s.”
“Gawd, I thought you’d never ask! Can ...” Sandi started, blushing. “Um ... I don’t ... I dunno what it looks like, can I watch?”
“I suppose I am rather curious. Shall we watch each other?”
The 12-year-old twins fell back on their beds, long since pushed together. Facing opposite directions, each could get a clear view as the other pulled off first her shorts, then her dainty knickers until her most private parts were exposed to the other. The girls watched, fascinated, as each began the very different ministrations that achieved the same end. Sandi licked a fingertip, then flicked it quickly across her swollen clit until it throbbed with joy. Sarah slowly moved a finger up and down her entire slit, an electricity gradually building.
Sandra’s finger found its way inside her love hole, bringing with it the juices to lube further her young womanhood. Sarah’s eyes grew wide and she tried the same maneuver, unsuccessfully. I’ll have to practise that someday, she filed away in her memory. Still, her own sweet sensations were building, and she continued the technique that served her so well.
Sandi was drawn to her twin’s pubes by something she couldn’t describe. Leaning over, her tongue barely made contact with Sarah’s sex before the Brit jumped, gobsmacked. “Sandra Farber, what are you doing?”
“Aw, shit, I’m sorry,” the Texan stammered. “I just wanted to try it, is all. Please don’t be mad!”
Sarah couldn’t decide what was stronger: her distaste for her twin’s actions, or her love for the girl for caring enough to try. “All is forgiven,” she finally said with a smile. Grinning, Sandi went back to work with a wet fingertip flicking her button and with two fingers from her other hand plunging deep into her canal. This’ll knock her ‘bloody’ socks off, she thought.
It was her last memory before darkness overcame her.
Sarah and Sandi crossed the threshold into oblivion together, searing heat smashing into their bodies from within, pounding relentlessly into their very consciousness. Four eyes clamped shut, two mouths open in silent screams, two cute 12-year-old butts lifted from their beds, jerking in unison, yin and yang, coherence rushing out with unseen winds, and back in again.
Then, it was over; ragged breathing the only evidence that the girls still were of this world, all else gone, save the night.
The cool lake breeze betrayed the usual August warmth, and both girls, naked from the waist down, awoke to chills. “Gawd a’mighty, you look like hell,” Sandi said to her bleary-eyed neighbour.
“Oh, thanks,” came the sarcasm. “I believe I feel the way you look.”
Sandra got up on legs that argued vehemently, and stumbled to the mirror. “Shee-it,” she moaned, “mebbe we oughta take it a bit easier when we do that.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Sarah answered with as wry a grin as she could muster. “I think it was worth it.”
Sandi smiled a knowing smile at her twin. They truly were identical in appearance; Sarah’s hair already cut to Sandi’s length, both now matted and unkempt. Both had identical circles under their eyes. They would have laughed, if that wouldn’t have hurt so much.
Sarah and Sandi got off the bus together at the small airfield from which each girl would be shuttled to larger airports for the main leg of their respective trips home. After a few last-minute instructions—and a hug neither wanted to end—they were on their separate flights.
Sarah-as-Sandra landed at Intercontinental Airport first. She’d taken the opportunity aboard her flight to study Sandi’s picture of their father, Matt. Matthew Farber was still a young man at 33, but weathered somewhat from his hard work over the years to ensure the success of Farber Farms. Matt always wanted better than a tiny cattle ranch that did little more than supply restaurants around Cypress, so he worked every aspect of the herds he could: from beef to milk, from leather to furniture, from cat food to dog food. It took several years for Farber to hire, one at a time, the help it took to even consider taking time out for himself and his daughter.
Now he and Sandi were closer than ever, though he still wasn’t sure exactly how it started. She’d been desperate one afternoon for release, feeling a warmth between her legs that she was too frustrated to describe. Oh, sure, he was just as much at fault, too, for his failure to say no. Today, however, he had no regrets. No regrets at all.
That was especially true when he saw his daughter walk into the terminal at Intercontinental, looking for all the world like a lost puppy. Sarah’s eyes brightened when she finally spotted her father for the first time. A big, toothy grin spread across her porcelain face; her eyes began to water uncontrollably. Frozen in time for only a moment, but seeming an eternity, Sarah finally dropped her carry-on bag and ran full speed into her father, almost knocking the both of them down.
“Whoa, beautiful, I’m happy to see you too. I sure missed ya every moment o’ those six weeks!”
“I’ve missed you my whole l—” Sarah started, then caught herself. “Missed ya too, Pa!” she finished, tears flowing freely down her cheeks.
“Whassa matter, li’l filly?”
Sarah-as-Sandra almost told her father the truth right there. “I—I s’pose it was kinda long, huh?”
“You don’t have to go back next year if’n ya don’t want to,” Matt said, genuine concern furrowing an already weathered-beyond-his-years brow.
I’m happy Mum sent me to this one, Sarah thought. “I dunno, we’ll see next year. It was kinda fun!” she said.
“What’cha say we head to the ranch?” Matt walked over to Sandi’s bag, then put an arm around his daughter. Sarah had to resist the urge to stiffen as her father’s hand brushed across her young breast.
Perhaps it was an accident, she thought.
Heathrow certainly was intimidating to a young girl, and Sandra-as-Sarah was no different. Mostly business travelers and tourists were here, and quite a lot of them at that. Sandi had no picture of Sarah’s driver, who no doubt was waiting patiently by the exit.
“Sarah?” called a voice next to her. “Where are you going?” Sandi started, then looked up and into the face of her grandfather. At least, Sarah had brought a picture of him, thank God.
“Granddad? Oh m’god, sorry. I—I was expecting ...”
The momentary loss of her accent slipped by Michael Lotrice. “Colin? No, I talked your mother into coming to fetch you myself.
“Ready to go home?”
More’n ya’ll ever know, Sandi thought. “I’m ready.”
The pair shared a hug, and off they went.
Matt pulled up to the ranch house, and he and ‘Sandi’ unloaded the truck, carrying her luggage inside. “Gawd, Sandi, I missed you so much I thought I was gonna burst.”
You have no idea, Sarah thought. They ran back into a bear hug, and Matt kissed his daughter passionately. Sarah broke off, stunned. “What ...” she started, then thought better of it.
“What’s wrong?” Matt asked.
“Um, nothin’ ... ya just s’prised me is all.”
“Hm, mebbe six weeks wasn’t such a good idea,” Matt mumbled, shaking his head, a wry grin on his face. He grabbed his daughter’s bags, and left for her room. Sarah stood, jaw agape, wondering if Sandi and their dad always kissed this way, or if he was just real happy she was back.
Not that it was bad, mind you, she mused. I might just try that again. Dad is awfully handsome. At least he’s not licking my ...
Sandi’s hand trembled as she reached for the front door. “Well, go on, your mother’s waiting for you,” Michael admonished.
Well, here goes, she thought. The door clicked open almost by itself, and Sandra-as-Sarah padded slowly inside the foyer, more nervous than she could ever remember. Granddad smiled, kissed the top of her head, and turned toward the study. Just at that moment, Karen Lotrice turned another corner, coming face to face with a daughter she hadn’t seen in more than eleven years.
Not that she could tell.
“Sarah! You’re home!”
“Oh, my—Mum!” Sandi couldn’t help herself, losing all sense of decorum as she ran into her mother’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably, the flood gates that were her tear ducts open to full blast. “Finally!” she added, under her breath.
“I’ve missed you, too, darling. Perhaps six weeks is a bit too long, after all.”
“No, no, I’m alright,” Sandi quickly tried to regain her composure, wiping her reddened eyes. “It ... it just seemed like I would never—I mean, like camp would never end.”
“Did you not like it?” Karen asked, concerned.
“Oh, no, Mum, I loved it. Met a nice girl there, too. Well, not at first, she—well, never mind. I’m just so glad to see you!” Sandi finished, the tears welling up again.
They hugged, hard.
“Damn you, Sandra Farber, why didn’t you tell me?”
Sandi hesitated. It was day three so far of her life as Sarah Lotrice and, as uneventful as things were in general, she’d been so busy doing things with her mother that she scarcely thought of the goings-on back home. Now, the real Sarah was demanding to know the truth.
“I—I’m sorry,” Sandi finally whispered back to the voice on the other end of the telephone.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sarah repeated. “How long have you and our father been ... been ...?”
“Aw, shee-it. What happened?”
Sarah began to summarise the past two days.
The first night had gone smoothly enough, all things considered. After dinner, Matt and ‘Sandi’ had left the kitchen a mess and cuddled in front of the TV, watching the Astros’ game. Matt’s hand was all over his daughter, running his fingers through her hair, rubbing her neck, eventually finding her growing young breast. Sarah again had to resist the urge to stiffen up or to move his hand from her personal place. She relaxed, and had to admit it actually felt pretty good. Her breathing quickened; a warmness washed over her, starting in her crotch.
Sarah felt a stirring in her father’s pants as well, and she knew from her reading that he was becoming aroused. That made her nervous again; how far will he go? she’d wondered. Matt then slid his hand down Sarah’s belly (not as taut as he remembered; too much camp food, perhaps?) to her hidden treasure.
“Da—” Sarah caught herself. “Don’t, Pa!”
“S’matter, li’l filly?”
Thinking fast, Sarah-as-Sandra answered, “Um ... I just got home, silly. There’s lots’a time.”
Matt looked at her funny, then went back to massaging her immature, but beautiful, breasts.
In her room later, mulling over the evening’s events, Sarah had jumped at the sound of her father’s voice. “Ain’t’cha comin’ to bed?”
Damn, she thought. I’m not ready for this. “Uh ... I need a little time to get used to bein’ back home, is all. You hold your horses. I’ll let’cha know.”
Matthew Farber looked again at his daughter like she’d lost her mind. Resigned, he’d slept alone that night.
Sarah didn’t sleep much at all.
The next day was spent shopping and generally hanging out together. Matt hadn’t tried anything, but his impatience had begun to show. That night, when ‘Sandi’ begged off again, Matt lost it. “What the hell’s got into you, anyway? Hell, you started this. Don’t tell me you wanna stop, ’cause you’ve been enjoying ridin’ me as much as I am. Dammit, what’s wrong?”
Once again, Sarah almost told Matt the truth. Once again, she stopped herself. “I’m ... I’m just on my monthly time, and I guess I’m just in a mood, is all.”
“Your ‘monthly time’?” Matt repeated. “Where’d you go, to camp, or college?”
Sarah’s lips turned up in a nervous smile, not knowing how to answer.
“We’ve always been together even when you’re OTR, right? When was the last time you slept in your own bed, anyway?”
OTR? She’d have to think about that one. “A while, I guess,” answering the question.
“A while, you guess? Damn straight,” her father said, his frustration showing.
“I’m sorry,” Sarah-as-Sandra said, meaning every word. “I’ll ... I’ll be there in a minute,” she finished, bringing a softer look and even a slight smile from Matt. “I’ve ... uh, got to use the toilet first.”
That funny look crossed Matt’s features again. The toilet?
Good lord, Sarah said to herself moments later when a trip to her sister’s bathroom revealed only tampons. Damn, I’ve never even put a finger in there yet, much less father’s penis. How am I going to pull this off? Or, well, push this in, I suppose, she finished wryly.
Lubing the applicator with her saliva, Sarah leaned over the edge of the toilet as she’d seen her mum do, and began a gentle, even pressure. It didn’t hurt as much as she’d expected, and she actually had pushed the tampon in a bit when a sharp pain hit her. Sarah cursed herself for forgetting her hymen.
“Shit, what do I do now?” She looked around the bathroom for any ideas, and sunk back down to the toilet when she saw nothing. “Damn, all I need is a string, really ...”
Sarah almost slapped herself, it was so simple. She retrieved the scissors she’d seen in the drawer moments ago, and snipped the string from the tampon, flushing the rest down. Wetting her finger with her spit, she felt a moment’s naughtiness and slipped only the digit inside, sliding in and out, probing her inner regions. The new feeling was wonderful, after all, and she wet a second finger. The pair went in with a bit more difficulty, but little pain. A girl actually could get into this, she thought. But, it was time for other matters, and Sarah put a knot into one end of the string, hoping that would be enough, and slipped it inside.
Cuddled with her father moments later, she let Matt slide his hands all over her near-naked body, only her knickers away from her birthday suit. He looked thoughtfully into her eyes, relishing her closeness without being overtly sexual for perhaps their first time. “Is there somethin’ you’re not telling me?”
Sarah almost jumped, a guilty look greeting her ‘Pa’. A million things went through her mind in that instant; she almost said something about six weeks away giving her time to think, and perhaps they should stop for awhile, but something she couldn’t quite describe choked off the words. On the other hand, what else would be believable?
“Pa,” she started hesitantly, “You know how I get sometimes when I’m ...” Just then, the meaning of OTR hit her, right on cue. Thank you, she thought to no one in particular. “... on the rag,” she finished. As if to appease him, she continued: “It’s almost over. I’m sure I’ll be myself faster’n a goat at suppertime.”
The improvisation worked. Matt smiled, and leaned in to kiss his 12-year-old daughter, softly at first, then with a bit more passion. Sarah-as-Sandra let him this time, and was surprised to realise she actually was responding. Her dad’s tongue slipped into her open mouth, and she didn’t even flinch, returning his French kiss instead with all the passion she could muster. Not that she had to look very far.
This isn’t so bad, Sarah thought, as Matt slowly worked his wet kisses down her neck, to her shoulder, to a breast that was slightly larger than he remembered. Geez, what six weeks don’t do, he thought.
Sarah’s thoughts nearly were overwhelmed by the flood of incredible sensations to her brain, straight from her dad’s mouth and tongue on her young tit. Oh, God, this is amazing, she thought. Her back arched even farther when Matt reached the other breast, her hands finding the back of his head.
Soft, wet kisses down her belly followed. Matt wasn’t imagining things; his daughter wasn’t as lean as she used to be. “I guess that camp food’s purty good, huh?”
“Mmm,” came the response.
Matthew Farber smiled.
Kissing and licking a line to his young daughter’s treasure, Sarah forgot for the moment all about her little ruse, until her father began peeling off her knickers. “Dad, no!” Oops. Damn, she thought, father’s bound to guess my secret now.
Caught up in his lust for the most beautiful creature on the planet, at least in her father’s eyes, Matthew missed the parental reference. Sarah barely skipped a beat. “I’m not quite ready yet, okay?”
“Don’t worry, I’m not stickin’ anything anywhere,” he said with a lewd grin. “Except my tongue.” Matt dove in, concentrating on the little bump at the top of her slit, and avoiding the area anywhere near the string hanging obscenely from her little hole. Sarah’s come slammed into her in seconds, never having felt anything like that before. Panting uncontrollably, she couldn’t move while her father continued a much slower beat with his tongue, letting her afterglow linger.
My God, Sarah thought. Now I know why Sandi wanted to try that ...
Matt scooted up on the bed and rolled onto his back. “Your turn,” he said.
Oh, no, surely he can’t mean—God, I’ve never done that before, Sarah thought. He’ll know something’s wrong.
At that moment, an idea hit her. Mentally patting herself on the back for her improvisational skills, Sarah rolled between her father’s legs and took his raging prick into her hand. Exploring it as if it was her first time (after all, it was), Sarah-as-Sandra made puppy-dog eyes at her father and said, in her best little-girl voice, “But, daddy, I don’t know how. Will you show me?”
Matt shook his head and chuckled. Okay, I’ll play your little game, he thought. “First, stroke it up and down with your hand. Go slow.” Sarah complied, thrilling in spite of herself at the first feel of a hard penis in her hand.
“Yeah, li’l filly, you got it. Now, lick my balls with your tongue.”
Sarah shuddered. Oh, quit complaining, she admonished herself. You got yourself into this.
Sarah licked at the wrinkled, hairy skin and found it wasn’t so bad. “Oh, yeah,” Matt moaned. “Now, lick up my cock to the top.” Sarah dragged her tongue along the underside, stopping when she reached the spongy head.
“Good, baby, but do it again slow-like, and flick your tongue up and down real quick.” Sarah tried again, enjoying the feel of her father’s seven-inch meat. Once back at the head, she swirled her tongue around it, getting the feel of what she thought she was supposed to do. “Now, suck it,” Matt commanded.
Sarah-as-Sandra skipped a beat, then went back into her little-girl act. “Suck it? How do I do that?” she asked, all innocence.
“Like a lollipop.”
Sarah let the head of her own father’s prick slide between her lips, still not fully comprehending what she was doing. “Good,” Matt continued the game, “now use your tongue while sliding that big cock in and out of that sweet mouth.”
“Oh, you want me to suck your cock, huh?” Sarah repeated the nasty tone of her father’s voice, a sly grin on her face.
“Yeah, suck my cock, li’l filly.”
Sandi’s identical twin slid almost half her dad’s penis into her mouth, using her tongue to lather her lubricating spit around Matt’s flesh pole. “Faster,” he rasped. “Go deeper.”
Sarah tried to take more into her mouth, but she gagged as the hot head bumped against her throat. “Sorry,” she coughed. “Out’a practise, I guess.”
“Take it a little deeper at a time, c’mon, you remember.” Oops. “Oh, sorry, I screwed up your little game. I won’t forget any more.”
Neither will I, Sarah thought, not quite disgusted. Although I suppose my time had come, I’d rather have done this at my own leisure.
She resumed her ministrations on her father’s cock, taking a little more in her mouth with each stroke, until she actually felt it slip a little into her throat. Fighting off the urge to gag, she kept at it, until her dad’s admittedly beautiful cock disappeared, his pubic hair tickling her nose.
“Oh, fuck, attagirl. God damn, you’re so good to me!” Sarah smiled; or, as much as she could with a dick in her mouth.
It took only a few more deep strokes before Matt announced, “I’m cumming! Shit, here it comes, baby girl!” Vaguely aware of her grandfather’s books, Sarah knew he was going to shoot some semen out of the end of his penis, but instinctively wondered if she’d choke on it.
She had no idea that Matt hadn’t taken matters into his own hands for six weeks.
Thinking quickly, Sarah kept only the head of Matt’s cock in her mouth and jacked it with her hands. The hot, thick liquid almost burned the inside of her mouth as jet after jet of his hot seed filled it up completely. Sarah swallowed quickly, and more came. She swallowed again and then a third time, wincing at the taste, until it was all gone. Matt relaxed back onto the bed, and a warmth in Sarah built up again. Not knowing what else to do, she began a gentle sucking on her father’s softening cock while slipping a finger inside herself. It wasn’t long before she came again, reality washing away with the sheer force of her orgasm. Her father had to pull her back up onto her pillow.
“God, I love you so much, baby,” Matt said, gently kissing his 12-year-old sex fiend goodnight, cuddling in preamble to sleep. Sarah was out already.
“That was last night.”
“Sarah,” Sandi began, tearing up. “I was afraid to tell you. I just knew you wouldn’t want to switch places and let me see my—I mean, our—mom.”
“Too bloody right!”
Now Sandi was mad. “Hell, you started it!”
“Me??! How could I ...”
“By friggin’ off every day when I got home from school,” Sandi continued, unimpressed with Sarah’s indignation. “Pa forgot my football practise was over for the year and didn’t hear when I came in and saw him at the computer, beatin’ his meat, lookin’ at somethin’ on the screen. I only got a warm feeling between my legs at first, then every day when I snuck in and watched, the feeling got stronger, an’ I started rubbing myself, too. That’s when I—I mean, we—had our first orgasm. I begged Pa to show me about sex until he gave in.”
“Oh, so now it’s my fault.”
“Well, I probably wouldn’t have fucked Pa’s brains out if’n I didn’t get a warm feeling every time I saw his cock.”
“Oh, you would too have done, you little nymphomaniac,” Sarah replied playfully.
“Never mind. What am I to do about father? He wants to resume your lovemaking, and I’m still a virgin. I think that’s something he’s quite sure to notice. I’m lucky I found the string before he did.”
“So, suck ’im off, or somethin’.”
“Yes, I did. I’m not sure I like the taste much.”
Now it was Sandi’s turn to spill the night’s events.
It was two in the morning when Sandra-as-Sarah awoke to the now-familiar stirrings in her belly. She’d smiled, figuring her twin was relieving herself. Fine, she thought, have some help, as Sandi began flicking her finger across her throbbing clitty, wetting two fingers of her other hand to slide them inside her pulsing hole. Moaning out loud, orgasm swept over her, sweeping her into waves of pure pleasure until she collapsed on her bed, a warm glow lingering like never before.
“That’s not precisely how I taught you to do it, is it?”
Sandi jumped. Michael Lotrice, at 58, still was a handsome man and, while years of leatherwork made for callused hands, he kept a healthy physique. “You’ve come quite far from the day I caught you reading the encyclopaedia with one hand and rubbing your quim with the other. Taught yourself all this, I suppose, eh?”
“Uh, yeah—I mean, yes, I’ve been practising.”
“Have you now?” Michael continued. “The fingers feel good inside, yes? They don’t hurt you?”
“No, not at all,” ‘Sarah’ answered.
“And I suppose they broke your hymen painlessly.”
Wups, Sandi thought. “I ... I’m ...”
“Not Sarah,” Michael finished, a sly grin on his face.
Sandi then explained how the girls met, how she’d been driven to her father by sexual feelings she couldn’t figure out, and how it was that Sarah’s manual stimulation turned out to be the cause.
“Grandpa,” Sandi started, dropping all pretense of identity. “Did—did you ever lick Grandma?”
Now it was Michael’s turn to be stunned. “Well, yes, I did, when Jane and I were still together. But that was a long time ago.”
Sandi wasn’t in the mood for a history lesson. She spread her 12-year-old legs as far as they would go. “Lick me.”
“Sandra, I can’t! I’m not—I mean, I’ve never touched Sarah, merely showed her how to do it herself. I’ve never—you’re too young!”
“I’m not too young to fuck Pa,” Sandi shot back. “Look me in the eye an’ tell me you don’t want to.”
Michael looked at her, and couldn’t answer. He glanced down her tight, athletic body, to her hairless fanny opened for him alone. “God save me,” he muttered, as his expert tongue began washing Sandi’s sex.
It was wonderful, but Sandra Farber wanted more. “Take off your pants,” she commanded, driving the proverbial tractor for the first time. Lost in his lust for the girl, Michael complied, then climbed atop his gorgeous granddaughter. “Fuck me,” she said simply.
Underused of late, Michael Lotrice’s cock was short, but fat, and Sandi had a little trouble at first accepting the member inside her tender pussy. It wasn’t too long, though, before she got used to the extra girth, and they were rutting in earnest.
“Good lord, what am I doing?” Michael fretted.
“Making ... me ... come!” Sandi almost screamed, forcing her grandfather to think fast and smother the girl’s mouth with kisses, lest she awaken the whole house.
“I can’t spend it inside you, I could get you pregnant,” Michael finally said after Sandi’s cum quieted.
“Come up here,” she said, scooting him up to straddle her chest. Sandi took her grandpa’s fat five-incher full into her mouth, surprising Michael yet again. He didn’t have time to show it, though, pumping his seed immediately into Sandi’s tightly closed mouth.
Afterward, Michael quickly got dressed and, as he left, he turned to the not-so-little girl. “Thank you. But that cannot ever happen again.”
Sandi smiled. Shoot, that’s an all-fired shame.
“You’re lucky,” Sandi finished, “Pa’s come tastes a lot better.”
“So, Grandfather knows.”
“Yeah, but he was cool about it. Ma said she heard somethin’ last night, but I said I was probably dreaming. Grandpa, bless him, acted like nothin’ happened.”
Sarah started to balk at her twin’s nonchalance; after all, she had a dilemma of her own. She actually found herself wanting her father to be the one to take her, but how could she do it without giving herself away? I mean ... well, I know what I mean, she thought.
The Brit changed the subject. “We may have to go to the second part of our plan sooner than we thought.”
“What? You’re not gonna tell Pa, are ya?”
“Well, it would make things—I don’t know.”
“I want more time with Ma. Please?”
Sarah stopped herself cold. Sandi had been their father’s lover for two years, and she’d already bedded Grandfather. God, is my sister such a slut, or is lovemaking that good?
“Alright,” Sandi’s twin said. “I’ll figure something out.”
“Thanks, sis. Love ya.”
“I love you, too.”
Sarah made up her mind. The 12-year-old Brit wasn’t going to let her twin have all the fun. So what if it was their father; she’d never met anyone else to whom she’d willingly give herself, and Dad loved her. He—well, he must love her. Mum and Dad just wanted to raise a daughter each, alone, apart. Had to be. Dad loved her. Really.
Only, why am I fighting so hard to convince myself? Sarah was having second thoughts all over again.
An idea struck her. “Pa,” she started over their breakfast, “When I grow up for real, if I changed into a completely different person, would you still love me?”
“You’re a silly filly,” Matt answered, grinning. “I’d love you just as much if you were—” he caught himself. “Ya know, different,” he finished, lamely.
Sarah winced. “And you call me silly?” Inwardly, however, she smiled. She had her answer.
Matt Farber spent the day on the ranch, as usual, busying himself with the day’s work, leaving Sarah-as-Sandra to her own devices. A finger probed her soft channel, hoping to find and expand the spot that caused a sharp pain during its last journey there, only to find the barrier already gone. Two fingers in deeper now, Sarah tried to relax her young vagina enough to let something larger pass later, with less pain. Sliding gently in and out, her fingers gradually worked away the mild haze, leading instead to more pleasant sensations. This just might work after all, she thought.
As she swallowed one of the birth control pills she found in Sandi’s bureau, she asked herself, smiling: now who’s the nymphomaniac?
On impulse, Sarah slid into the shower behind her father that night, surprising him with her hands on his chest. “See, told’ja I’d be back to my old self,” she smiled. Matt bent over to kiss his young lover, having long since forgotten how young she really was; at least, while they were in bed, anyway. Still the doting, but firm, father, Matt had resolved that he wasn’t going to let their relationship change the fact that he was her teacher, her mentor, her guide past things right and wrong. Oh, sure, something at the back of his mind still told him he’d failed her in this aspect of her growth, but she was perfectly adjusted otherwise, and Matt convinced himself that this was for the better.
Sarah-as-Sandra returned her father’s kiss, passion enveloping her beyond all hesitation. Her small, soft hands found their way down his back, massaging his firm buttocks like she’d seen some of her older friends do. Father and daughter swapped tongues as Matt’s hands caressed her backside, and his average, if proud, penis swelled to its full seven inches, pulsing against her belly. Sarah brought her hands ’round front, taking her dad’s throbbing member and stroking it gently as she assumed he liked. Breaking off their kiss, she nibbled at his neck as he had done to her the night before, moving slowly to his nipples to lick each in turn.
Wow, that’s new, Matthew thought, as his daughter continued her mouth’s journey past his navel to his pubic hair, then to the mast that stood proudly before Sarah’s face. Chewing gently on the head, trying new things as she went, Sarah did the impossible, taking the whole of his meat down her throat in one pass. “Oh, God,” Matt groaned, “that’s so good, baby girl. Do me right.”
Sarah slid off her father’s pole, remembering what he’d told her about flicking her tongue along the underside and using that knowledge as it slid slowly out of her mouth. Wanting so badly to please her father, and herself, the young Brit was surprising Matt by experimenting suddenly with her newfound talent. Not that her dad was complaining; Matt simply assumed she was making up for lost time.
The pulsing tremors increased, and Sarah knew her father was about to come. She remembered something a friend told her once about how boys like to watch themselves shoot, and Sarah let Matt’s rod pop out of her mouth as her hand flew back and forth across its length. “Ah, shee-it,” Matt cried as the first jet of his hot seed flew straight between his daughter’s open lips. Another followed, then another, until the thick whitish fluid covered the pink of Sarah’s tongue, and she swallowed, still not quite sure what to make of the strong, almost foul, taste.
“God damn, fuck, li’l filly,” Matt again using his pet name for Sandi. “What’s got into you now?”
“Don’t’cha like it?”
“Well, hell, yeah, but you ain’t never done that before.”
“Just wanna make you happy, is all.”
Matt kissed his daughter, ignoring the taste of his own semen on her mouth. The two finished washing up and, snapping her father playfully with the towel, ‘Sandi’ ran quickly to his bed while the big man rumbled behind her.
Wasting no time, Matthew Farber began planting kisses and licks on strategic locations on his daughter’s body, working her into a sexual frenzy. By the time he arrived at her sweet pussy, Sarah was writhing on the bed, begging for her father’s expert tongue and the orgasmic pleasure it would bring. He would not deny her lust, or his own, burying his face into her immature twat, savouring the feel of near-hairless skin under his nose, so baby-soft, so sweet. She came in an instant, jerking her young body hard off the bed, forcing her father to grab on and hold her tight while his tongue completed its mission.
An ocean away, Sandi awoke, and smiled. Give it to ’er, Pa, she said to herself. Make her a woman, she continued, as her fingers found their way toward her own sex.
Sarah lay still, breathing erratically, as Matthew climbed upon her, positioning his throbbing member for entry into her small love-tunnel. “This is it,” Sarah said, then looked into her father’s eyes. He smiled.
“Um ... ya know, six weeks without, finally over.”
Matt grunted, again looking at his daughter like he’d never met the young woman. Still, he began to push gently with his cock-head at her little hole, which refused to give. “Go slow, it’s been awhile,” she admonished.
That makes sense, he thought, and he continued a gentle pressure until the head popped inside. Sarah fought the urge to wince at the slight pain, but it wasn’t unbearable. Slowly, Matthew pushed a little more inside his daughter’s tight pussy, pulling a little back out every now and then to keep her natural lubrication flowing. A moment’s hesitation as Matt’s cock seemed to be squeezed by something, and then it was gone, about five inches of cock slipping inside.
Sarah whimpered slightly, but kept up her brave front. The pain was sharp, if not intense, and it was actually beginning to subside. Thank God, maybe I can get through this, she said to herself, as a small tear formed in one eye.
Matt noticed. “Y’alright?”
“Yes, Dad, yes, please make love to me.”
Slowly moving back and forth, Matt looked deep into his daughter’s eyes, and saw something he’d not seen in years: fear. There was something else, too, though he couldn’t quite ... dishonesty. Then, her words hit him. She’s not telling me ... she’s not ... Oh, shit!
Stricken with fear of his own, Matt climbed off of Sarah. “Oh, my God,” he stammered, “I’m fuck ... I’m fucking my daughter!”
“Of course you’re fucking your daughter, you have done for two years,” Sarah admonished her father, knowing he’d figured it out. “Now kindly get back here,” she continued in her own voice, “and fuck the other one.”
“Aw, shit! Sarah! I didn’t ... I mean, God, I’m ... you were a virgin, weren’t’cha?”
“Well, so was Sandra when you started, and she was ten. It was all my doing anyway.”
“What?” Matthew asked, not comprehending.
“I’ll explain later,” Sarah answered without answering. “Now, you’re going to get back over here and finish what you’ve started.”
“But ... I can’t, my God, you’re—”
“As horny as my sister,” Sarah cut him off. “Now, are you putting that beautiful penis back inside of me, or am I to come over there and do you on the floor?”
Matt stood, frozen. Something in Sarah’s eyes had changed; now, she was telling the truth, she did want this. Slowly, he climbed back on top of his other daughter, apologizing. “I’m sorry, if I knew, I wouldn’t have ...”
“Yes, you would,” Sarah smiled. “Sooner or later.”
She was right, he had to admit. Lathering his cock in his spit to lube it up, Matt sunk deeply into Sarah’s pussy once again, this time with no resistance. He looked deep into her eyes, guilt flashing in his own, until he saw the gaze that met his. The fear and deception in Sarah’s eyes were gone, replaced with a mixture of love and lust. The 12-year-old now-former virgin slid her hands into her dad’s hair, and smiled. “Father? Make love to me.
Matthew Farber grinned back.
Four times that night, Sandra awoke to orgasm. Sandi, too, smiled.
Matt found himself unable to sleep, instead idly stroking his daughter’s hair. Finally, Sarah turned back to face her father. “What is it?” she asked.
“How’d you git here, anyway?”
“Well,” Sarah began. “It so happens you sent Sandi to the same camp as Mother sent me. She was—we were not very nice at first, we played tricks on each other after she said I cheated at archery. I don’t think we wanted to admit the obvious, at first. We were—we ended up spending quite a bit of time together and the truth came out. I so wanted to meet you! Sandi wanted to meet Mum, too, so ...”
“So you came here ’stead’a her.”
Matt scowled. “Did she ...?”
“No, she didn’t speak of the two of you at first, and I was a bit—”
“Which reminds me,” Matt interrupted. “What did you mean by, ‘it was my fault anyway’?”
“Um, well, I started reading about two years ago, some books about how sex works. I suppose I was experimenting with ... well, things ... and Sandi felt the same feelings at the same time as I did when she walked in on you and your computer. Turns out she and I can feel each other’s feelings. But, she thought looking at your penis made her excited, and finally she burst in and ... well, I guess, the rest as they say is history.”
Matt was stunned. He’d wondered for years why Sandi was so horny, and now, the reason turned out to be ... his other daughter?!
At that moment, another thought slammed into him. “You—you didn’t know about me ’n’ Sandi at first, an’ I was gangbusters after you ... you could’a told me the truth at any time. All’ya had to say was, Pa, I’m Sarah, not Sandra. But, you decided to go through with it.
Sarah looked at her father in adoration. “I knew you loved me, even if you—well, I suppose it was to happen sooner or later, and I wanted you to be my first. Are you angry?”
Matt’s eyes began to mist up. “Gawd, no, li’l filly,” again using his favourite nickname for the daughter he’d sent to camp six weeks ago. “I—you’re so brave for—aw, shee-it, Sarah, I love you so much!”
Father and daughter kissed with a passion neither knew before. Sarah rolled over onto Matt and felt his hardening meat introducing itself to her just-opened channel, and pushed back until all seven inches of Farber pole slipped inside. With love from above and lust down below, their bodies and hearts intermingled.
The gentle recipient of Matthew’s lovemaking from the night before was gone, replaced now by a much more wanton young woman, sheer passion belying the girl’s twelve years. His daughter was fucking him with abandon, and Matt marveled at Sarah’s seeming split personality. Sandi, by comparison, was just a bundle of pure lust come bedtime.
And yet, he found it difficult to concentrate. How the hell am I supposed to just hand her back to her mother after what we’ve shared? And how is Karen gonna react to all this? Does she know? And just what is Sandi up to, anyway?
“So, planning to tell your mother any time soon?”
Sandi really didn’t want to answer her grandfather’s question but, at the same time, she knew she couldn’t avoid the inevitable. As if on queue, Sarah’s phone rang.
Saved by the bell.
“Hello,” she answered, trying to wave Michael from the room, but he wasn’t budging. “Howdy, Sarah,” she said into the phone, resuming her own persona.
“I kinda figured. Pa’s a smart one, and I guess you two got like purty close last night, what with all them orgasms, an’ all!”
Sarah had to resist the urge to gush, and didn’t quite succeed. “He’s wonderful! I can see why you’re so into lovemaking.”
“Yeah. Well, you get some of the blame, or maybe it’s credit, huh?”
“That’s not what I’m calling for, though. As I said, he knows. He’s hinting at having to switch us back.”
“Aw, shee-it,” Sandi answered. She considered her options for a moment, then sank onto Sarah’s bed. “We ain’t gonna git away with this anymore, huh? Doggonit, now I have to go tell Ma.”
“Yes, you do.”
“So, what do we do after that?”
“Well,” Sarah started. “Daddy and I have been talking—”
“Yeah, right, uh huh, like, when’ja get time for that?” Sandi teased.
“Oh, you’re just too cute. Come on, I’m serious for a moment, alright?”
“Daddy got this faraway look when I said Mother hadn’t ever remarried. I think secretly he’s still in love with her.”
“Git out! Like we’re ever gonna—naw! You think they ... you think we ...? No way! Git out!”
“Let’s try, shall we?”
Karen sat, jaw agape, disbelieving. Sandi almost shrank from her mother, nearly afraid of the outburst that was sure to come. But Karen didn’t move, save the tears that welled in her eyes.
Sandi took advantage of the opportunity. “We met at the camp. Seems you and Pa think more alike than you thought,” she finished, hoping her mother would catch the subtle reference to the past. “I know we tricked you an’ all, but Sarah really wanted to meet Pa, and I was desperate to see you. Please don’t be pissed.”
Karen stiffened, suddenly feeling the need to act parental. “Does your father let you speak like that?”
“Never mind. What am I supposed to do now? Sandra,” Karen continued, fighting to maintain her composure, “I—I don’t want you to think I don’t love you, but ... but your father was to raise you while ... while I ... well, Sarah lives with me.”
Sandi leaned back into her chair, resigned. “So I’m going back with Pa, and Sarah’s coming back here. ‘The end’, huh?”
The tears began to fall freely down Karen’s cheeks. God, now you’ve done it, she thought, you’ve gone and broken your daughter’s heart. After all their effort ... damn. Damn! I knew this was going to happen someday! What can I—no, I’m not to give Matthew another chance to—oh, hell, stop being so selfish. You can’t entirely speak for the girls anymore, they’re twelve now.
“Dad!” Karen practically screamed as she jumped to her feet. “I’m going to cancel all my appointments for a few days, could you round up some plane tickets Stateside for me, I mean for us, please?”
Michael Lotrice softly chuckled. His granddaughter was far more animated, almost knocking her mother over by way of a big bear hug.
Intercontinental hasn’t changed much, Karen thought as she stepped into the Texas air terminal for the first time in some eleven years. The tourists were always obvious, some forgetting even to remove the price tags from the Astros’ hats or Rockets’ jerseys, fresh from the gift shop. An unwitting sap in a Spurs’ outfit wondered at the nasty glances aimed his way.
What surprised Karen most was that, after all this time, she still remembered the drive up Highway 290 to Matt’s ranch, and deftly piloted her rental car toward the inevitable.
That didn’t mean she wasn’t nervous as hell.
The drive seemed to take forever. Sandi was all too antsy, for she hadn’t seen her Pa in almost two months. Her twin sister would be waiting, too, just as anxious to see her and their mother.
Sarah and Matt, in fact, stood just off the driveway in front of the sizeable house. The centerpiece of the ranch had been built a little at a time as Farber Farms’ success grew, and now was very nearly sprawling. Karen pulled up evenly, got out of the car, and brought herself to a dead stop. Sarah, looking exactly as Sandra, was all smiles, but it was the look on her father’s face that froze his ex-wife. Matt, too, wore a welcome, if nervous, grin.
Wow. That’s a far cry from the expression he wore when we ...
Karen was jolted back to reality by a sudden, uncharacteristically expressive hug from Sarah. “Welcome to the ranch, y’all,” the girl drawled in flawless homage to her twin sister. Too stunned to react much, Karen instead hugged Sarah back, and walked slowly toward the man who had sent her back to London, crying, all those years ago.
The girls had quickly excused themselves, hoping to give their parents some much-needed time alone. One very long hug later, the girls fell onto Sandi’s bed and compared notes. Yes, Daddy seemed anxious to see Mother, as if he felt there was something left undone. No, Ma didn’t seem to want to see Pa very much: she’d get a dreamy look in her eyes that was replaced quickly with sadness.
“I wonder what happened between them?”
“Well,” Sandi started, “Pa always acted like he regretted somethin’. Maybe they can figger it out.”
Suddenly, Sandra Farber took on the proper air of her twin. “So, what say we masturbate together, eh?”
“Mm, delicious idea.”
Both girls peeled off their clothes and, for the first time, compared each other’s attributes. Not quite identical from the neck down, Sarah noticed, as her twin was far more toned from her work on the ranch. Sarah’s breasts were slightly larger, and a gentle pudge betrayed her belly. In truth, Sandi probably weighed only three pounds less, but the girls would never fool anybody naked. And yet, both noticed that they must have similar tastes in swimsuits as their tan lines were nearly identical.
“Um, Sandi,” Sarah began nervously. “Would you—I mean, I—may I ask you a favour?”
“I ... would like it very much ... if you—would you lick me again?”
Sandi looked like a kid in a candy store. Heh, maybe I am, the Texan thought as she leaned over to kiss her twin on the lips. Sarah didn’t back off, but she didn’t respond, either. Sandi grinned at the Brit and pushed her gently back onto the bed.
Up close in the daylight, Sandi could see the beginnings of a faint patch of hair just above Sarah’s sex, and made a quick note of checking herself later. Meantime, back to matters in front of her, Sandi gently kissed her 12-year-old twin’s pubes, opening her mouth to allow her tongue to trace a gentle line along Sarah’s outer lips.
The Brit gasped slightly, and haltingly. So, it does run in the family, she thought, as Sandi’s tongue gradually became more insistent, pushing its way inside Sarah’s recently deflowered love channel. The Texan could feel her twin’s orgasm approaching, though she was not stimulating herself in any way. Gawd, this is so weird, she thought.
I could get used to this, Sarah said to herself, as her body slowly climbed its way to its peak. Sandi concentrated now on her sister’s clit, which throbbed at the attention it was receiving until, as if Sarah’s clitoris was the magic connection between them, Sandi too crossed the threshold. Orgasm washed over both girls, Sandi fighting with her own climax to keep up the oral stimulation rather than let the delicious feelings stop.
Finally, gasping for air, both girls came down from their mutual high, sated for now. “Wow,” Sarah started. “You’re as good as Daddy.”
“Thanks. You wanna try?”
“No, not really.” Sarah looked apologetic. “I guess I’ve never much thought about it, but somehow I don’t feel comfortable with the idea.”
“’s’okay, I still love you. B’sides, I owe you a ’pology for bein’ selfish, but fergit it—you done been fucked too good for that.”
The twins' mischievous grins were as one.
“So, I see you’ve done rather well over the years, eh?”
“Me?” Matt was stunned. “What about you? I just have this here modest cattle ranch. I hear you’re a doctor.”
“How’d you know that?” Karen blinked.
“Uh ... your daughter told me.”
“Oh. Right. Speaking of whom, what do we do with the girls now that they’ve met each other?”
Matt just stared at Karen, not quite sure how to answer ‘the’ question. “I’m ... kinda sorry we had t’split ’em up.”
Now it was Karen’s turn to be stunned. “Why didn’t you say that eleven years ago?” she said. Still hurting all these years later, Matt wheeled on her.
“Why did you have to go and fuck that woman? It’s not like we didn’t enjoy her together!”
Sandra Farber froze at the base of the stairs. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her, and now she was not going to miss the opportunity to find out what drove her parents apart.
“Matt, you invited her over. It’s not like you didn’t know she was there. We were waiting for you!”
“More like you couldn’t wait!”
“How were we to know you had to deliver a calf? You never said anything. We waited for two hours! She was about to take the half-mile walk back home.”
Heh, so Ma likes girls, too, Sandi thought, sitting on the stairs just out of her parents’ view.
“But, dammit, that’s screwin’ behind my back,” Matt retorted. “I ain’t never done that to you!”
Karen sighed. “We didn’t mean to do that to you, either. I thought you’d be more angry if she’d left before you came in! That’s all! I tried to tell you all this before, but you wouldn’t listen to me.”
Now, wait, think, girl, Sandi said to herself. Who d’ya know who likes girls and lives half a mi—oh, my God. Lottie?!
“I’m ...” Matt got up suddenly, as if sitting still was too much work. “I’m gonna take a little drive. I gotta ... I dunno, I gotta think.” With that, Matt walked out the door, just missing the sight of his daughter rounding the corner on her way down the road.
“Well, Sandi, ain’t seen you in a blue moon. What brings you this-a-way?”
“Lottie, we gotta talk.”
At five-three, Lottie was a petite woman, maybe two inches taller and ten pounds heavier at most than her house guest. At 30, she still could pass for a teenager in the right light. This just might work, Sandi thought. “Lottie,” she began. “You’re still into girls, right?”
“Well, I like both, darlin’. But that’s still a secret, sorta, so don’t let on that you know.” She then eyed her young friend suspiciously. “What’cha drivin’ at?”
“My secret. Don’t’cha tell nobody, hear? Pa an’ me been fuckin’ for two years. I found out that my twin sister was doin’ herself in London and making me feel warm whenever—aw, fergit it, I jumped on Pa’s boner one day an’ we been at it ever since. Then Sarah and I met at summer camp, and we switched places so’s to meet our other parent. Now Ma and Sarah are here at the ranch, an’ w—”
“Whoa, whoa, hold up, there,” Lottie interrupted. “You know why they split up?”
“Pa kinda said you and Ma couldn’t wait for him one night. I guess we were in our cribs or somethin’, huh?”
“Yeah, an’ your Pa was out delivering another kind of baby.”
“Anyway, I think secretly they want to get back together, an’ I need your help.” Sandi finished.
“My help? What can I do?”
“Ma doesn’t know about Pa an’ me, an’ Sarah too, now, and I’m afraid she’ll take Sarah an’ run away forever if she finds out, or mebbe even put Pa in prison, ’r somethin’. But if I c’n show Ma that we all would be happy together, mebbe she’ll stay.”
“How am I supposed to help?” Lottie repeated.
“I just saw Pa out takin’ a drive right now. Call Ma and tell ’er to come over. All’ya gotta do is get her in the bedroom with the lights off, an’ I’ll do the rest.”
“You’ll do the rest?”
Sandi took on a wicked grin. Lottie smiled.
“What the fuck, huh?”
Karen still had no idea how Lottie knew she was back in town, but she really missed her friend. Besides, she thought, you and Matt haven’t been together for eleven years, so he can’t get jealous anymore, right?
“C’mon in,” Lottie yelled at the sound of the doorbell. “I’m in the bedroom.”
Can’t wait, eh, you little minx?
Karen opened the bedroom door and reached for the light switch. “No, leave it dark,” Lottie said. “I wanna use my hands and mouth to get t’know you again, babe.”
The door closed, and two hands found Karen’s blouse, opening it one button at a time. Soft caresses led to her bra; soon it, too, fell. A gentle touch across her 34C breasts sent a chill up her back, and she gasped. Karen leaned forward, searching for Lottie’s face, and found soft lips that kissed back, gently at first, then with more urgency. The two lovers swapped tongues in a wet kiss as the caressing hands began undoing her slacks and sliding them down lean legs. Sliding back up, soft fingers began kneading the flesh of Karen’s 31-year-old, still-taut ass, and the warmth of the caress began to fuel Karen’s fire.
Still kissing, Karen’s lover turned her toward the bed and gently pushed her back. The warm body on top of hers began a humping motion as a mouth found its way to Karen’s earlobe. A nibble here, gentle kisses there, and soon a hot tongue was circling a hard nipple. “Oh, it’s been so long, darling,” Karen purred.
A muffled “mmm” was the only response.
Karen’s other breast also was treated to a hot tongue-bath, and the heat nearly radiated from between her legs. A soft hand found its way to her pubic patch, an ample tuft of hair that ended just north of her throbbing pussy. Karen moaned in delight as her lover’s hot tongue traced a wet line down her belly toward the fire that was her sex, and she nearly jumped as it made contact finally with her pulsing clit.
“God, yes, love, right there.”
Karen noticed that her lover’s technique was totally different than she remembered, more of an exploration than anything. Then again, Lottie was like that their first time together. “Come, swing ’round this way so I may explore yours, too.”
Her request answered, Karen began kissing two very soft thighs, kneading the soft butt cheeks just above her face. She ran her tongue over the pucker of the girl’s anus, causing her lover to jump involuntarily. “No one does that for you anymore, eh?”
The girl chuckled, then buried her face once again into Karen’s quim, redoubling her mouth’s effort to find orgasm. Karen began to return the favour, nothing but soft skin meeting her face.
“Well .... shaving now, are we?”
Two tongues’ simultaneous quest ended together as well, as both pussies responded to the stimulation, sending their hosts over the edge into pure bliss; throbbing, writhing bodies racked by orgasms that slammed into shore like waves at high tide.
Gasping in afterglow, the young woman on top rolled partly to one side and announced, “Now, Lottie.” The lights came on, and Karen came face to crotch with her own daughter.
“Y’know, a girl could really get into that!”
“Oh, my God! Sandra??! What are you doing?”
“Wow, hey, lookin’ good, Ma. I guess bein’ a doctor has its advantages, huh?”
“Dammit, answer my question!”
“I don’t want you and Sarah to leave!” Sandi blurted out.
“And just exactly how,” Karen continued, irritated, “is tricking me into bed with you supposed to help?”
“Because you don’t have t’go anywhere else to get a woman t’make love to you. Uh ... no offence, Lottie.”
“None taken, darlin’,” Lottie smiled.
Karen sighed. “Okay, back home with you. We’ve got to talk.” Mother and daughter dressed as Lottie watched, an evil grin her most prominent feature. “And you, little bird,” Karen began, wagging a finger at her old friend, entirely failing at an attempt to look angry. The three stared at each other for only a moment, then they all burst out laughing.
Matt, back at the ranch, looked puzzled as Karen and Sandi—Sarah? Damn, I can’t tell—walked in the front door. Karen was a touch angry with her daughter for deceiving her, but she found it difficult to stay angry.
“Would you like to know what your daughter just did?”
Uh oh. “I’m ’fraid t’ask.”
“Lottie rang up to ask me over,” Karen continued. “I figured you couldn’t get jealous anymore. We made love, or so I thought ...”
“Wait, Ma, I should be the one to tell him,” Sandi interrupted.
Matt sighed. “Tell me what?”
“I used Lottie to trick Ma. It was me she went t’bed with.”
Sandi waited for the explosion that never came. Her father, instead, found a chair and sat down. Sarah, by this time, had wandered into the room and found a seat of her own. She turned toward her father.
Matt looked ashen. “Does she know?” he quietly asked the girl he’d known as ‘his’ daughter for eleven years, and ‘known’ Biblically for the last two. Sandi shot a quick look at her mother.
Karen squinted. “Know what?”
Matthew Farber, hardly burly, nevertheless was a good-sized man, if not imposing. Suddenly, he looked entirely vulnerable as he sank back in his chair.
“Ma—” Sandi started, only to be cut off by her father.
“No, li’l filly, she should hear this from me. Karen ... Sandi’s not—I mean, both our daughters are ... shee-it, I might as well just say it. I’ve taken both of them to bed.”
“What?! How ... you—”
“Ma,” Sandi interrupted, “it’s not his fault.”
Karen wheeled on ‘Matt’s’ daughter. “What the devil do you mean it’s not his fault? You’ve—”
Now it was Sarah’s turn to interrupt. “It’s my fault, mother.” Karen froze, shocked. Sarah continued. “I started a couple of years ago reading some of Grandfather’s books about sex and reproduction, and I experimented with masturbating, and ... and Sandi was coming home from school at the same time here, and ... and, well, we can feel each other, and ... Father didn’t know she was watching him wanking in front of his computer—”
“Where did you hear about ‘wanking’?”
“Mum, listen to me! Sandi seduced daddy, not the other way ’round.”
“That’s irrelevant,” Karen shot back. “You,” addressing Matthew again, “should have known better. You’re supposed to be the adult here. How could you do this to your own daughters?”
“Bullshit!” Sandi screamed. “You fucked me, too.”
“You tricked me!”
“You tricked us! God damn it, how could you two pull me and Sarah apart?” Sandra was livid now. “You weren’t never gonna tell us, were ya? Were ya??!”
Sandra Farber lost it, storming out of the room, and leaving the rest of her family in teary-eyed silence.
“Come on, Sandi, please? Mum and Dad want to see us.”
“I’m sorry, Sarah, I just ... dammit, I don’t want to lose you.”
“You can’t lose me, ever.”
“I’m gonna miss you,” Sandi burst into tears, hugging her twin hard. Sarah waited until Sandi let go, and shot her a strange smile.
“Come with me!”
Sandra followed as Sarah led the way toward her father’s bedroom, the same one she’d shared with Pa for two years. They’d kept her bedroom up for appearances, what with ranch hands in and out all the time. God, Sandi thought suddenly, please don’t let Pa be in trouble. Please.
She froze in her tracks as she stepped into the room. Sarah grinned, peeling off her clothes and climbing onto the bed with both parents, all now butt naked! Sandi could only stand there, her jaw hanging open.
“We did a lot of talkin’ after your little outburst,” Matt started. “You’re right, your Ma and I never should have split you up. Your stubborn, mule-headed Pa never should have split up with your Ma, for that matter. And I promise,” he added, turning toward Karen, “never to get mad if’n I find you in bed with another woman. Especially, since Sandi wants t’be that woman,” he grinned back at his daughter.
Sandi didn’t move.
“I’m not much into reciprocating, after all, so that’s to be your job anyway,” Sarah added, smiling like the Cheshire cat.
Sandra Farber still stood, frozen.
“Darling,” Karen started, “we’ve decided we want us all to be a family again. You both enjoy your father’s company, so who am I to stop it? And, besides,” she winked at Sandi, “you’ve got a marvelous tongue. Let’s not let it go to waste, shall we?”
Slowly, Sandi’s expression turned from open-mouthed shock to a huge, toothy smile. Ripping off her clothes, she jumped into bed and into her family’s collective arms. Matthew could not remember his cock ever being so hard as he slipped it effortlessly into Sarah’s soft tunnel. Karen pulled Sandi on top of her, and they began lapping eagerly at each other’s pussies, lighting their mutual fire.
The twins moaned as one, jerking, stiffening, riding their orgasm as if atop the same bull at a rodeo. “Gawd, that’s too fuckin’ cool how they do that, huh?”
Karen almost didn’t hear Matt, what with her own climax building. Sandi managed somehow to keep up the stimulation needed to bring her mother off. “Oh ... yes ... that’s ... wonderful!” she breathed, going over the edge.
Sarah, meantime, had an idea, and whispered something into her father’s ear.
“Y’sure, li’l filly?”
“Oh, yes, please!”
Matthew pulled out of his daughter’s hot box and straddled her chest, jerking his throbbing meat. “Watch this, ladies,” he grinned, spraying the biggest wad of his life straight into Sarah’s mouth. The not-so-prim-anymore little Brit swallowed it all down, announcing, “That’s not too bad after all, I suppose.”
Karen and Sandi laughed, and took turns licking Sarah and Matt—and each other, for good measure—turning the king-sized bed into a sea of writhing, orgasming bodies, tongues coated with incestuous juices.
It seemed only seconds before Matt was hard as a rock again. With a satisfied Sarah cuddled alongside her father, Sandi took her queue and climbed onto Matt, sliding the whole of his seven inches into her 12-year-old pussy for the first time in nearly two months. “Gawd, I missed this so much,” she sighed.
“You have?” Karen grinned. “I’ve not seen that in eleven years!”
“I’ll try to save you some, really,” Matt laughed.
“Save, my arse,” Karen answered in mock indignation, pushing Sandi gently back onto her father’s chest, his prick bending only slightly inside the girl’s soft tunnel. “Here, try this on.”
Karen licked the length of her once-and-future lover’s cock, stopping long enough to tickle her daughter’s clit. Sandi jumped. “Shee-it, that’s like, whoa! Do that again, Ma!” Karen obliged, concentrating her tongue on the erotic junction of father and daughter.
Sarah could see only the top of her mother’s head above her twin’s hips, but she could feel the warmth building inside of her as she cuddled closer to her father. The young Brit threw her arm over Sandi and came with her, exploding in a kaleidoscope of sensations; bucking, writhing, gyrating to the sweet music only the two of them could hear.
Sandi literally fell off her father as Matt exploded, sending ropes of fresh seed into Karen’s mouth. She continued sucking gently as his prick slowly softened, its ride over for now.
“You will get ’round to me, yes?” Karen asked, not entirely kidding.
“Yes, dear,” Matt answered, not entirely serious.
She threw a pillow at him.
The girls, meantime, returned slowly to Earth, cuddled together. “Oh, Sandi,” Sarah panted, “you are so going to love it in England.”
“England? What’re you talkin’ about? You’re gonna love Texas!”
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