When I opened the front door, I found an attractive forty-something Minnesota blonde on the porch. Her freshly washed hair hanging down her back, she was smiling and loosely wrapped in the blanket she and her sister had hijacked earlier. "Is breakfast ready?" she asked.
I had last seen her about five a.m. when I slid from a bed occupied by myself and two women after night long on sex and short on sleep. The Pacific fog had rolled into Berkeley overnight and the house was cold. Rather than wake them in an effort to retrieve part of the blanket, I had walked naked in the early dawn light back to my house next door and resumed my night's sleep in my own bed after leaving a note inviting them for breakfast.
"Of course. Follow me to the kitchen. We'll start with some coffee, then an omelet."
"Oh yum. I need some coffee. You wore me out last night." As she spoke she dragged the sagging corner of the blanket back in place so it once again covered both of her breasts.
When we got to the kitchen I suggested she have a seat while I made coffee. With my back turned to her I was struggling with a serious question. It wasn't that I was unhappy to see her. To the contrary, she was beautiful and interesting and the sex had been great. I even knew her name—sort of. The problem was I only knew her last name, Torkelson, but I didn't know her first name. When I left at five a.m. there had been a pair of Torkelsons in the bed—Britt and Freya. We had had a lovely threesome beginning in the early afternoon and continuing until the early hours of the morning. I didn't know which of the Torkelson sisters was now sitting in my kitchen loosely wrapped in a blanket. Was it Britt (my next-door neighbor) or was it her sister Freya. They were identical twins. They looked alike and with their soft mid-western accent, they sounded alike. I remembered that Freya had her hair twisted into long complicated braids that made her look like a Viking Shield-Maiden. I turned to take a quick look. No help. The woman in my kitchen had washed and combed out her hair which, if she were Freya, would likely have eliminated the complex braiding.
As I turned back to my cooking I remembered holding on to Freya's braid the night before while I fucked her from behind. The salacious thought began bringing my cock to life. After the extensive sex I had engaged in the day before I was surprised at my reaction, but there was no doubt about my increasing arousal. I was concerned that my growing cock would push open the robe I had thrown on to answer the door and make and obscene appearance before a woman whose first name I didn't know.
It wasn't just my cock that was aroused. I tried to focus my mind on the prep for the omelet, hoping that the image I had seen in the mirror the day before would disappear from my mind. No luck. The image of Freya's big tits hanging below her body and swinging wildly while I pounded her from behind was firmly fixed in my mind and my cock continued to grow.
When I again looked over my shoulder, I saw that the blonde in my kitchen, whoever she was, had let the blanket slip a bit from her shoulders exposing her large soft tits—tits I had obsessed over the night before. But were they Freya's tits or were they Britt's tits? The women were identical twins—very identical once their clothes came off. I had obsessed over both sets of tits, fondling and pressing my face between them, even titty fucking one set, although by that point in the evening I was no longer paying a great deal of attention to which of the twins I was having sex with. Oh the nastiness of that titty fuck. I could feel my cock pushing against my robe.
The problem really wasn't that I was becoming aroused. Given the sex the blonde sitting in my kitchen and I had engaged in the night before, neither of us would be embarrassed about that. Why would she be shocked to see an erect cock she had been sucking on only a few hours ago? The problem was whether the woman sitting in my kitchen and causing my cock to grow, was Britt or Freya. I had engaged in glorious sex with each of them, but which one was now sitting in my kitchen? It seemed to me that I really should know.
"You really don't know, do you?" she said.
"What?"
"Whether I am Britt or Freya. You don't know do you?"
"Uh, well..."
She laughed.
"You are twins," I said rather weakly.
"Will this help?"
She stood and walked around to my side of the kitchen table, letting the blanket fall away completely as she walked. She was facing me and leaning naked against the table with her hips thrust out. Her naked body was beautiful. Sure she was well into her forties and it wasn't the hard body of the Playboy models I had lusted after in my youth. It was fuller. Filled out, without being flabby. Plump and firm but soft. So soft when my face lay on her nicely rounded belly as her sister sucked my cock the night before. But the full-frontal visual was no help at all. I recognized every detail of the luscious body I was looking at, except for the one critical detail of which luscious body it was, or stated alternatively, which Torkelson was the owner of the body displayed before me.
I took the skillet off the heat and walked over to her. I could feel my three-quarters erect cock wagging, barely hidden by the cover of the robe. There is something so nasty about walking across a room while your unrestrained, partially engorged cock flops back and forth. When I stood before her, she said, "Perhaps this will help." She picked up my hands and placed one firmly on each of her breasts. I hefted each breast and then let it drop, watching it wobble. I fondled each breast, rubbing the rapidly engorged nipples with my thumbs. I pushed them together rubbing the nipples against each other. I was in heaven, well at least an erotic heaven. My now almost fully erect dick made its appearance, pushing its way out through my loosely tied robe and rubbing against her thigh smearing it with a bit of precum. Suddenly my need-to-know which Torkelson blonde was in my kitchen was becoming of less and less importance. I leaned forward and put my lips on her throat, just where it connected with her collar bone and began to kiss and lick the sensitive flesh. Just as the night before she gasped and threw her head back.
"Oh Dave, you are such a bad boy," she said as her hand slid between us and grasped my cock.
"
Moi
?" I responded, as I continued to fondle her breasts and lick the sensitive flesh of her throat.
"Yes you," she said. "Yesterday you seduced me and fucked me repeatedly while you did the same to my sister and then you ran off in the middle of the night leaving us an invitation for breakfast... she gasped as I pinched a nipple... but... but now you've barely poured me a cup of coffee and you're playing with my tits again without pausing long enough to show me that you know my name."
"It's Torkelson," I said as I slid a hand down between her legs and cupped her mound.
She gasped again.
"Do you want me to stop?"
"No," she whispered. She was stroking my cock with both hands now. It was fully erect and leaking precum she was using for lube.
"Good." I slid a finger further down her mound so it was between her labia. Then I dipped it inside her just long enough to get it wet and return it to stroking the soft flesh between her rapidly swelling lips.
"Dave, I really think... "
I silenced her by mashing my lips against her and beginning a long, sloppy, wet kiss, our tongues dueling and each of us nibbling at the other's lips. It went on and on, while my left hand continued to maul her breasts and my right slid two fingers well into her warm, wet cunt. For her part she had released the belt on my robe and was dragging one her breasts (whichever one I wasn't fondling) against my chest while she continued to aggressively stroke my rigid cock.
I pulled back from the kiss and said, "You don't really care about breakfast do you?" I was looking straight down into her eyes which were gleaming with lust. "That's not why you came over here this morning is it?"
"No," she said. "I want more of this." She was stroking my cock with both hands and had spread her legs apart so my fingers could more easily penetrate her.
"Well suppose I tell you aren't going to get any more of that cock unless you tell me which Torkelson sister you are." I used my free hand to pinch one of her nipples as I spoke. It was a bluff I wasn't prepared to backup. She wanted me to fuck her and I wanted it too. Neither of us was going to let the little issue of her first name get in the way.
"Oh fuck." she gasped. "You're mean Dave. Don't be mean. Just fuck me and let's not worry about which Torkelson sister I am."
"Oh and I suppose you want me to talk dirty too don't you, you slut. That's something both you sister's liked—my deep voice and the filthy things it says while I'm fucking you."
"God yes. Just fuck me and talk dirty to me like you did last night."
"All right you slut," I said as I spun her around and pushed her face and upper body down on the kitchen table. As I was peeling my robe off she was wiggling her plump, round ass at me.
"Here it is Dave. Come and get it. It's a Torkelson ass and you love them don't you?"
