Author's Note:
There was an old fairy tale about an old woman with two daughters and a couple of beautiful rose bushes. Now these two daughters grew up with no one but their mother and the creatures of the forest as their friends. They were innocent in the ways of lust and only knew of love. The words taught to them were words their mother found accepting, so I have tried to remain true to their upbringing as best I can. So while you read the story of Crimson and Ivory, please remember their youth and their innocence. It won't be until much later that their innocence is molded into something more common and crude. ~ There are acts of incest between the sisters, if this offends please do not read. Thank-you and enjoy! RedHairedandFriendly
Many years ago a young woman gave birth to two beautiful daughters and for the first several years of their lives they all lived happily in a cottage hidden deep in the woods. Their father, her husband, was a handsome man, nearly as handsome as she was beautiful. But one day he went into the woods to hunt for food and was struck down by another hunter's arrow. The woman was left alone and raised her daughters the best she could.
The eldest daughter, Crimson, was named for the bright tuff of red hair that had topped her head the day she was born. It had grown thick and curly as time passed and when she was eighteen it hung in curls down her back. The tendrils danced teasingly across the round cheeks of her ass.
Her sister, Ivory, was named for the beautiful white hair that she'd been born with. To some it was a drawback, but to the woman and to her family it was just another unique feature to an already unique girl. Ivory's hair and done exactly the opposite of her sister's. It was long, but there were no curls in the silken strands. Instead Ivory's hair was long and straight. It flowed like silk falling through the fingers of a wealthy King.
A few months before the woman's husband died he had planted two beautiful Rose bushes for his wife and every year since the two bushes bloomed brilliant roses. One plant bore red flowers, the other white. The girls often played near the bushes and whenever they were in bloom they picked the best flowers for their mother in hopes to keep her smiling all day long.
The sisters were very close to each other and for the most part they were one in the same. Crimson was slightly more adventurous than her sister Ivory, but she did not openly seek trouble. It just sometimes found her. And while that trouble was finding her, Ivory was often back at the cottage taking care of their mother's needs or keeping the home clean and pleasant.
When the girls turned eighteen their mother had a small party for them. There were no guests to invite, for once her husband died, the woman had become a hermit of sorts. She rarely ventured out of the woods, choosing instead to live off the land, eating berries, nuts, and fruits that were hearty in number.
After a celebration of strawberry cake, apple cider and raspberry cookies, the two girls kissed their mother goodbye and promised to be back before dark. The mother did not ask questions of her daughters. She trusted them and she trusted the forest.
Crimson and Ivory held hands as they walked through the woods and along the paths that the animals frequented. Each step brought them closer to the meadow and the small pond in which they often swam and frolicked in.
When they reached the waters edge, the girls disrobed and ran into the water. They played and splashed, laughed and dunked each other. As time passed they slowed their play and began to talk of their lives and how lonely they felt. The conversation was not new, and in truth it had been played out many times.
"We cannot leave her," Ivory whispered.
"I know," Crimson said in a soft quiet voice. "But I long for something and no matter how deep I go into the woods, I cannot find it."
"I understand. I too wish to find what my heart is so desperately craving. Do you still find yourself thinking of how mother and father formed us?" Ivory asked.
Crimson blushed. "I think of it every day. I have seen many of the beasts of the woods mate and I wonder if that is how mother and father mated."
Ivory's eyes grew wide. "Crimson, surely not."
"Why 'surely not'? We have seen many animals rutting and the girl animals do not have dangling parts like the boys and we are girls, mother says so."
Ivory could only nod her head in agreement.
"And," Crimson continued, "the boy animals mount the girls, they slide their dangling part into the folds of the female and the sounds they make, though strange are certainly unique to each breed. So why is it odd to think that man and woman don't mate the same way?"
Ivory frowned and walked from the water. She lay on the grassy shore and let the sun caress her alabaster skin. Her sister soon joined her and the two girls studied the clouds as they floated by. Eventually Ivory rolled over and studied her sister's body. "What other things are similar between us and female animals of the woods?"
"If you would but go outside with me, you would already know this."
"I know, but it is good for one of us to remain with mother. I don't mind -- well, not too often."
Crimson turned onto her side and she too took a moment to look upon her sister's naked flesh. "Well, for one, the girl animals have more than one of these," Crimson reached out and touched her sister's right breasts. "And these points," she trailed her fingers across Ivory's pink nipples, "well, none of them have anything like ours," she paused and gasped softly, "Oh my."
"What?" her sister asked.
"Yours harden like mine, but when I touch yours, my body becomes warm. Much like when I caress my own."
Ivory reached out and touched one of Crimson's nipples. "Mine does as well. My womanhood feels tingly too. Does yours?"
"Mm hm," Crimson said. "That is another thing that is different. We have a soft patch of hair that covers or womanhood, and the females of the forest, they are almost bare. I think it is to keep themselves clean for their mating."
"Perhaps we are not nearly as clean as we have thought," Ivory whispered. She sat up and spread her legs, peered between them and studied her womanhood through the soft curls of hair. "I believe I am clean.
"I am sure you are," Crimson answered. She sat up and spread her sister's legs even further apart. Her fingers brushed through the hairs, and the pads of her digits parted the smooth flesh of her sibling. "You look clean and smell beautiful, Ivory." Crimson bent down and kissed her sister's womanhood, then she sat up. "Yes, you are perfect."
Ivory's chest rose and fell in rapid succession.
"Are you okay?" Crimson asked.
"I don't know. I feel weak. Kiss me again, down there."
