From the files of Cleo: Thanks to the twins for their story.
I'm one of identical twin sisters, age 28. Let me emphasis "identical," even to the tiny mole under our left breast. As children, our mother could tell the difference most of the time, but after we reached the teens we even managed to fool her occasionally. I'm Cass and my "baby sister" born a few minutes later, is Tess. As twins usually are, we are very close. Maybe closer even than most twins. When she's sad, I'm sad, when she's happy, well . . . you can see how it goes.
It physically pains me to see her unhappy and I know she feels the same about me. We share everything, and we have since we were old enough to know how. We even share husbands now, but they are blissfully unaware of it. My story is about how we arrived at this point in our lives.
It started in high school, the identity-switching thing, I mean. I excel at Physical Ed and Math, while Tess stinks in both. She glides through science and biology subjects, and I struggle in home economics and the sciences. I'm probably a smidgen more mature than Tess. I have a slightly cooler demeanor and am certainly more adventurous than my sister, but we can mimic each other for extended periods of time without falling out of character.
Our high school was a large establishment of intercity learning, with lots of rules. One rule was that family members weren't allowed to attend the same classes simultaneously, so Tess and I were required to stagger our classes - a constant source of stress and irritation for us both. Although we'd experimented with fooling people about who we were a few times, it'd mostly been done in fun.
That changed when Tess freaked-out about a looming math test, for which she was totally unprepared. She'd been upset for nearly a week, and I'd rigorously groomed her for it but with little improvement. I caught her sobbing the previous afternoon in the gym.
"Tessie! What's wrong? If someone hurt you I'll . . ."
"No, Sis. Nobody hurt me. It's that stupid midterm tomorrow. I can't do it! If I blow my grade-point average on this, I'll just . . . kill myself!" she sobbed dramatically.
Occasionally, Tess had a tendency to be a drama queen, but I could sense real anguish in her tone this time. I held her against my breasts, letting cry it out, trying to formulate a plan to help her. Finally, I said, "Don't worry about it, baby sister. I'll take it for you."
"Do . . . do you . . .? Oh Cassie, I love you."
I took her math test the next day, and needless to say she maxed it. I have to admit, when it came time for me to take my Biology exam I made an "A" too, thanks to Tess's repayment of the favor. We continued doing that all year and no one ever caught on. In our senior year we double-dated a lot, and sometimes switched places right in the middle of the evening without our dates noticing.
Neither of us was promiscuous, never going farther than French-kissing and letting a guy feel a nipple once in a while. We vowed early-on that we'd remain virgins until our weddings, which we planned would be a double wedding. We decided the perfect situation would be if we married twins. That wasn't to be however, but I'm getting ahead of my story.
After high school, Tess and I attended the same university, lucky enough to room together in the same dorm. We'd filled out nicely and knew we looked good, as guys seemed to beat a path to our doors. We laughingly agreed they were probably just intrigued by doing "the dirty deed" with a set of twins. That wasn't going to happen, we vowed. We still double-dated a lot, but sometimes went on our own dates alone, after first renewing our vow to remain virgins.
During our sophomore year we met two guys we instantly knew we'd someday marry. I won't go into all the boring details but they were cousins and best friends, and the four of us were like the Musketeers, never far away from the others. Erick, the boy I feel in love with was tall, blond, athletic and extremely handsome in a Nordic fashion - his parents being Scandinavian. He was a central sports figure at our university, playing football, basketball and baseball.
His cousin, Martian, had an Italian dad and was darker, shorter and barrel-chested. He was a little wild and impulsive, which complimented Erick's coolness. Marty wrestled for our school wrestling team, and went to State competition twice. Tess was smitten with him immediately.
We secretly admitted to each other that we could've fallen in love with either man, because there was that much attraction. We also had the impression that our guys felt the same. There were no secrets between Tess and me about our feelings for these two guys or about our activities on dates with them - no matter how heated things got.
We knew every time the other one let one of the guys pinch their nipple, or, when petting sessions got so hot we let them slip a finger inside our smoldering virgin pussies. With our raging hormones fighting for control everything seemed new and exciting, and we explored - up to a point.
As things progressed, we also told each other about the dry- humps we'd given the guys because they'd gotten so worked up while kissing us that they suffered from "blue-balls." Although we sympathized with their discomfort and we'd readily admitted to each other that we wanted it just as much as the guys did, we none-the-less vowed we'd hold off until after we were married. Mere months went by until we were both asked to marry the loves of our lives as soon as we graduated. A double wedding was planned, just as we'd always envisioned. We were on cloud nine!
By the end of our sophomore year, we'd both progressed to frequent hand-jobs to keep our guys sane. It was fun discussing our guys' obvious endowments with each other, as well as exploring the exciting prospects of them taking our virginities. We discussed it often, admitting it was sexually frustrating as hell, but we were committed to our celibacy vow!
Lying in our beds in our dark dorm room late one night, Tess blurted out, "Martian is hung like a can of Red Bull. The crown on his penis is as big as a light bulb! I don't know how he'd even get that thing inside me! When he cums he shoots all over the place like a water hose! It's sticky and I have to wash my hands immediately. Once, some of it even shot up into my hair and on my face! It was icky! "
I lifted up on my elbows staring in her direction in the darkened room. I couldn't see her face, but I didn't need to. I knew her expression. "He's circumcised, Tess?"
"Yes. And the head on his . . . thing . . . is . . . enormous!" She giggled softly. "Feels really good in my hands though. Until it gets all messy."
Later near sleep while envisioning what she'd told me I mentally compared the description of Martian's endowments to Erick's. Erick wasn't circumcised and his foreskin fascinated me. I'd played with his penis numerous times by then, enjoying it tremendously each time I felt it throbbing and pulsating against my palm as it spurted his copious seed.
He always kept a box of tissues in the rear floorboard of his truck, for that purpose. He made quite a mess when he ejaculated too, warm and sticky surges that smelled faintly like bleach, inexplicably exciting me. I hadn't found it icky at all! In fact, I secretly wished we'd do it during the daylight sometime so I could see when he released.
Based upon Tessie's description of Marty's oversized penis I was a little surprised to learn that maybe every man wasn't exactly the same size, after all. While Erick wasn't as "thick as a can of Red Bull," he was still quite hefty and certainly longer than that!
Tess's remark made me think about how it'd feel to have that large thing pummeling me, the warm sticky fluid he expelled shooting deep inside me instead of being wasted on a tissue. As I contemplated it, my hand sneaked under the covers to touch my swollen clit. I thought I heard Tess breathing rather heavily, too, and smiled.
A few weeks later we were going on one of our rare split-dates because Martian had somehow obtained two tickets for a Beastie Boys concert, and Erick was taking me to an exclusive roof-top restaurant for dinner. I loved concerts and Tess loved dining out, so the decision came natural to us after a while. Tess was the first to offer it up for discussion.
"Why don't you go to the concert with Marty and I'll have the lobster?" she said, half-joking. Suddenly, we stared at each other like it was just too obvious. We talked about it late into the night, doing all the "what-ifs."
"What about kissing?" I finally asked. "You know the guys are going to want to make-out afterwards. They'll want hand-jobs at the least, after all money they're going to spend on us."
Tess giggled, covering her mouth, embarrassed. "You mean I'll finally get to see that super-long dong you keep saying Erick has?"
We finally agreed that kissing, tit-groping and hand-jobs would be okay. We reaffirmed our chastity vows and went to sleep.
When Martian showed up for his "date," Tess wore a short black dress, her hair piled high on top her head and large looping earrings. I wore a pony-tail, t-shirt and shorts. Dressed that way, it was easy for him to assume I was Tess, on my way to a concert. Martian just walked up and gave me a big wet kiss, his tongue darting between my lips for just an instant, letting me have some clue of what might follow later. I glanced at Tess, my face burning.
She smiled, looking a little uncertain as I left with Martian without the reassurance I'd wanted from her. I knew she and Erick would be doing the same kissing thing later, but I found I wasn't as jealous as I probably should've been. If it'd been anyone but Tessie I'd have scratched her eyes out.
The concert was wild and exciting, people screaming and acting a little nuts and my heart pounding the entire time. At some point Martian moved behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me tightly against him. With all the jostling, pushing and shoving going on around us it wasn't long before the inevitable happened - Martian had an erection, poking insistently against my butt.
Unnoticed by the rowdy crowd around us, his hands slowly slid under my t-shirt, cupping my breasts. I had to admit, he was pretty good with titties. My nipples grew hard as my breathing grew shorter under his masterful manipulations.
