Looking back on it, the whole thing seems highly unlikely but, what can I say, it happened. I was at our country place for the weekend because it was time to do spring planting in my beloved garden. My wife, Jane, couldn't drive out with me because she had a weekend meeting. Nevertheless, getting the tomato plants and the corn seed in the ground as early as possible is our goal, so there I was, on a beautiful May day, planting my heart out.
I finally had to take a break--a glass of ice tea--sitting under the tree next to our little stream. Then I saw the twins from next store coming through the hedge. Sally and Sylvia are maybe just 18. I don't really know them very well, since we only come up to our place on weekends from March to October. I sort of watched them grow up jumping on the trampoline in their back yard or screaming at their older brother. I don't think we had more than two or three conversations in all those years, when they wandered over to see what I was doing in the garden. They're not identical twins. Sally is the more active one, and she is attractive. Sylvia seems more the follower, as if she were the younger sister in Sally's shadow.
Sally said "Hi, Mr. Preston, have you got a minute?"
"Sure," I said, "What can I do for you?"
"Well"--she hesitated--"it's kind of personal, could we talk to you inside?"
We went into the kitchen and sat at our kitchen table. Sally said. "Here's the deal. We've been attending Catholic schools up to this year. But starting in September we're going to be attending the community college. Between the nuns and everybody's strict parents we haven't even been out on dates. But we know that's gonna change. And we'd like to know what boys are gonna expect."
"Gosh", I said. "I'm flattered that you'd ask me, but my youngest child is in his 30s, it's been a lot of years since I was a teenager and, uh, things have changed a lot since the 1950s."
"Please," Sylvia said, "you know we can't ask our parents so you're our only chance." (Having met her parents I knew she was right.)
"Well, OK," I said. "Let's go upstairs."
They sat on the bed as I pulled up a chair. "It all begins with a kiss", I said.
"Show us." Sally leaned forward expectantly.
"No, I think it’s better if you show each other." Sally turned to Sylvia and gave her a clumsy peck on the cheek. "That's a start. Now kiss her on the lips." The girls clinched enthusiastically. "Now the next step is to open your mouth during that kiss and let your tongue explore your partner's mouth. That's called a French kiss or tongue hockey or probably some up to date names that I don't know." Once again they followed directions.
"Ewww, gross!" said Sylvia, as they separated.
"Yuck," Sally echoed.
"What's next?" Sally queried.
"The next thing a boy will want is to explore your breasts," I said. Sally blushed.
"Like how?" she asked.
"Sally, why don’t you put your right hand on Sylvia's left breast and Sylvia, put your left hand on Sally's right breast." They did so. "Now if you squeeze and knead the breasts a little you may feel your nipples start to respond." They both purred their satisfaction and reddened noticeably. "You get a little more feeling if you unbutton a couple of those blouse buttons and put your hand right on her bra, and more yet if you reach under the bra and touch the breast directly." They followed directions like the parochial school students they had been.
"Now maybe it's not as likely, but a boy might want to suck on a breast." They seemed doubtful.
"What would that be like?" said Sylvia.
"C'mon, we'll try it," Sally said. With that she finished unbuttoning Sylvia's shirt, unhooked her bra and started sucking vigorously.
"While you're doing that, it helps to massage the other breast with your hand," I noted helpfully. Sylvia was definitely beside herself and insisted on returning the favor to her sister who started writhing rhythmically.
So now I have these bare-chested twins sitting two feet in front of me. "I think that's about as far as we need to go," I said, stiffly.
