With this story, I am going to begin a new form of storytelling. This story is open-ended -- that is to say, it will continue as I have new tales to tell and end when it ends. I hope you enjoy this first installment and will look forward to further adventures as I write them.
The sunlight streamed into the bedroom of the Chateau, signaling the start of a new day. In a sense, for the
previous
day had not yet concluded. In the bed, still snuggled close, Reagan and Kelly were flipping through the picture album, kissing and basking in the afterglow of a night of unbridled passion. Things had changed last night, for the better, for the happier, for the naughtier, for the kinkier. Monica was still asleep beside them, curled up, yet still managing to look desirable. Both women were tempted to wake her, but both resisted -- they figured she'd need her strength for the day ahead.
"Remember this?" Reagan asked her sister as she pointed to a picture of herself and Kelly and Jean-Claude, her former paramour and onetime owner of the Chateau in which she now resided.
"You were barely 20 -- even then, beautiful and desirable -- but scared. You put on such a brave front, but I know how intimidated you were, moving in with a Viscount, being his mistress, letting me go off on your own and ... "
All of this was true. Reagan had been living in France for a few years, doing whatever it took to get by. France had been inhospitable at first. The Parisiennes, in particular, seemed to have a tree-sized stick up their asses. But once she met Jean-Claude, became his lover and moved in the Chateau, her life took on a whole new direction. The people in this region were gracious, giving, kind and loving. Reagan found her home far, far away from where she had been born.
"But it all worked out. Jean-Claude was a kind and generous lover, he let me be wild and free and he left me financially secure for the rest of my life!" Reagan beamed as she felt her sister's fingers begin straying, down, down, down her body, followed by kissing lips. "Oh, you
so
don't play fair!" she chided.
"What good does playing fair get you?" Kelly teased as she kissed, licked, kissed and licked down towards her tanned sibling's freshly-waxed pussy. Some might have asked "
Didn't you get enough last night?
" but those people didn't know her or Reagan. They never got tired of pleasuring each other, feeling the heat they could inspire in bed. Since their reunion a few years earlier, all their incestuous passions had resurfaced, this time, there were no obstacles in their way. As Kelly's tongue swabbed over her sister's heated cunt and the darker woman sobbed in pleasure, Kelly gave silent thanks for their love. It might be condemned by many, but they both knew it was a blessing. They were meant to be together, to share a bed, their bodies and their lives. From the day of their reunion until now, they spent hours, days, locked in incestuous lesbian pleasure, sisters in body and soul. They feasted on each other, played perverse games, fucked each other and nothing was forbidden. Only scant days after moving in with her twin, Kelly had bought a strap-on and used it constantly to fuck her slut twin in cunt and ass. Reagan loved being a slut for the auburn-haired Kelly, she wore her titles,
slut
and
whore
like a badge of honor, as did her equally raunchy sibling.
"Oh you bitch, you fucking whore, you cunt, keep that
UP
! " Reagan roared as her sister began really giving it to her, tongue buried deep in the grooves of her pussy. The noise had the effect both women expected -- it woke up sensual blonde Monica, the third member of last night's kinkfest.
"Lord, you two!" she sighed, stretching out like a tanned blonde cat, "You're both such
nymphomaniacs
, can't a woman get any sleep around here?" There was a quick motion and Kelly was now lowering her pussy on top of Monica's face while Reagan buried her face in Monica's also-waxed pussy.
"You two are evil, you know that?" the blonde Swede purred contentedly. Life had improved dramatically since she'd joined her best friend in France. Her past seemed to be a distant blur, Kelly had welcomed her with open -- arms. She hadn't known Kelly's sister well, but she was now family. A very
loving
family member.
The fourth participant in last night's debauchery walked in a minute later, back in the black teddy she'd been gifted with on the previous day's shopping excursion. She carried a tray with 4 steaming mugs of coffee. Naturally, she was unfazed by the goings-on ... for she'd been a willing participant scant hours before.
"I thought we could all use a kick-start!" the eighteen-year old blonde said. She kissed her mother, who tasted vaguely of Kelly's pussy. It was now a familiar taste to her as well.
"That was very thoughtful of you, Mila!" Kelly said as she sipped her coffee. At first, she'd been terrified of Mila's reaction to her new lifestyle. To the unbridled, hedonistic, whorish behavior she embraced with fervor. She needn't have. Mother and daughter were cut from the same bolt of whorish cloth, within a few hours of her arrival in France, her blonde daughter was fucking and sucking with abandon, including becoming her mother's lesbian playmate. All was good, all was well.
Coffee was finished and Mila slipped out of her black-silk robe to join her mother in bed. In seconds, mother and daughter were locked in a frenetic
sixty-nine
which showed the depths of not only their love, but their willingness to be depraved sluts like Reagan and Kelly.
The sisters watched and enjoyed the blonde-on-blonde action and soon were making love to each other. Dildos and toys could wait until later -- for now, fingers and tongues and talented hands were all that were needed.
Reagan remembered back to how it had all started. It had been a long journey indeed, but well worth it ...
When Brigid Cavanaugh got pregnant for the ninth time, she seriously considered having her tubes tied or forcing her husband to use condoms or taking the pill. As a serious Catholic, the Irish woman knew she'd do none of these things -- but she had no desire to have her 9th child at 36 years of age.
They'd moved to England to get work, Tom was a talented bricklayer -- but times were tough and there was scant money to support 10 people. The church helped where they could, the family sent money, but hunger was no stranger to any of them.
Brigid was actually having an easy time with this pregnancy, but as she grew larger than normal, she consulted her doctor. The news would have been good if it had been her
first
pregnancy and not her
ninth
.
"I would say with near-certainty you're carrying twins, my dear." the doctor told her. She cried for nearly two days. Brigid loved all her children. She loved being a mother and she did her best. But two more mouths to feed -- it was too much. Tom agreed with her and they made their decision.
Two months after giving birth, they took the twin girls to a local Orphanage, left them there -- with a note identifying them as Reagan and Kelly. The Cavanaughs left England. They left their girls behind and although, in times wistful, wondered what became of little Reagan and Kelly, they never tried to find out. Over the years, the twins grew up together and they were inseparable.
Many of the other children in the Orphanage made fun of them, being Irish "bastards" as one particularly cruel boy put it. Reagan would have none of it and beat him up until he cried "Uncle".
The twins, unlike many twins, were not alike. Reagan was fiery, feisty, a natural athlete and scrapper. She questioned authority and rules at every turn and she seemed to have a good sense of self from a young age.
Kelly was tinier and she was quiet and artistic. She was inclined to be introspective and kept to herself, she rarely caused any discord. She wasn't afraid to stand up for herself or her sister if necessary, but at times, she preferred just to blend into the background.
As the girls grew older, they had a few chances for adoption, but as they refused to be separated, the chances grew slimmer. Reagan continued to be a scrapper and the Nuns rarely knew what to do with her.
Many of the Nuns were strict and overbearing, but there were some of the younger ones who took to Reagan's feisty personality and Kelly's inquisitive mind. One Nun in particular, Sister Sara, would often take them to Brighton for a treat, sometimes Ice Cream or a swim or shopping.
Sister Sara had a saying that she particularly loved "The longest journey begins with but a single step." She didn't discourage Reagan's strength or try to shape her into a mold, although she told Reagan to try and avoid the fighting. She bought books for Kelly and used the resources of the local libraries to try and help Kelly in her learning. Kelly filled her mind with facts and never seemed to stop her quest for knowledge.
Reagan's curiosity went in another direction -- and it was that direction which was to change her life. The young woman had an insatiable desire to know everything she could about sex.
She was reading
Cosmopolitan
one day and one of the girls saw her and started in on her, calling her "Tramp" and "Slag". That was all Reagan was going to take. She started wailing on the older, bigger girl -- and broke her nose. It took two of the Nuns and an older boy to pull Reagan away from the beaten girl.
In her room, Reagan fumed. Even Kelly couldn't calm her down. She was going to be punished and she assumed severely. Her record showed infraction upon infraction, she was deemed "incorrigible". It was time.
She began packing her meager possessions into a Duffel Bag and she knew she was going to begin her long journey. It was time to take that single step. Try as she might, Kelly couldn't convince her to stay.
"Okay then, I guess I will go with you!" her sister told Reagan with fierce determination. "You need someone with smarts to save you from yourself!" Kelly began packing as well. One of their few commonalities was both women had a fierce Irish stubbornness -- neither was going to be swayed.
That night, while it was dark, the girls took their first step. Some years later, Kelly looked up Sister Sara's quote. It was from Lao Tzu and the
exact
quote was "
The Journey of a thousand miles begins with one step
". Kelly knew she'd remember that for the rest of her days.
It wasn't going to be an easy trek -- Reagan hadn't thought things through and the nearly-16 year old had little money. Her slightly-more frugal sister had some, but not enough for them to survive on for any length of time.
Luckily, it was summer and both girls were willing to work. They traveled to Brighton and Dover and sold Ice Cream, Hot Dogs, Pop and anything they could to make money. Once they'd earned some money, both bought scant little bikinis and their sales tripled. The young men -- even some of the
older
