I lay back in the deep roll top bath, the water beautifully hot and I felt totally relaxed. Well as relaxed as I was ever going to be on the night before my wedding. To be honest it wasn't a big deal literally, there would only be a few of us there at the Register Office and the Reception afterwards was a late lunch at a local restaurant. Everything had been arranged and there was nothing to get heat up about.
My head was resting on one end of the bath and I could just about touch the far end with my toes. It was deep enough that I was pretty much floating and I looked down at my breasts bobbing gently in the water, my nipples soft and pale pink across them. Further down my pubes dipped in and out of the water and I made a mental note to see about shaving them off tomorrow morning.
I ran my hands over my breasts, caressing them gently, feeling the little tingle in my nipples, sending messages to my pussy, and I contemplated masturbating, but knew that I'd only end up all hot and flushed which was not really the image I wanted to portray to my twin brother Jamie that evening. I was at his house, well I still actually had a share in it, but I'd never really considered it home, not since I moved out and my parents were then killed in a car crash.
We'd inherited it between us, I'd wanted to sell it, too many memories and associations, some good, some bad, but Jamie had wanted to keep it. He had a very well paid job in a Bank in the City, but even then he could not afford a mortgage big enough to buy me out completely, so I still retained a share and he paid me some 'interest' on the technical loan. The money came in useful now and then, but I was not exactly on the bread line either.
In the absence of my father, Jamie was going to be giving me away tomorrow, hence me staying at his house. It seemed right as well, this was where I'd grown up and where Mum would have fussed over me. She would have wanted all the trimmings, but my fiancé Mark and I were only getting married really for one reason. We both wanted children and were both old fashioned enough to want to both have the same surname as they did. So much easier to explain.
I ran my hands over my breasts again, then down my body, over my outer thighs then back up my inner thighs, brushing up against my pussy. I couldn't help but toy with it a little, I'd always been a highly sexual person, I loved sex, I loved masturbating and found it difficult to resist situations like this. I pushed a finger just inside me, feeling the hot water invade me and toyed with my clit, little pulses washing through my body. "No," I told myself, "not now, perhaps later." With that I got out, water cascading down my body and dried myself with the lovely fluffy white towel that Jamie had provided.
I wrapped it round me and crossed the landing to my bedroom, closing the door behind me. There were memories galore in that room, me in my little single bed as a young child, then later in the double bed that I'd been accorded as I grew into teenager and finally young adult. Tears over homework, giggles and fumbles with girls and the odd boy, and the losing of my virginity in that bed. The room had been redecorated since I'd left, but it was still very familiar to me.
Wistfully I finished drying myself and slipped my dressing gown on, an old favourite, big and fluffy. With a second thought I pulled a pair of panties on as well, running my hands round them to ensure a nice snug fit. A voice called up the stairs, "Are you out of that bath yet, dinner's nearly ready?"
"Just coming Jamie," I called out and with a final look round my room went downstairs. Jamie was in the kitchen putting the finishing touches to a chicken carbonara, steam rising from the sink as he drained the pasta, and the delicious smell wafting around the house. There was a glass of red wine waiting for me and I settled down at the kitchen bar to watch him finish the preparation.
He'd always been good looking, and time had filled out that angular youth, his broad shoulders stretching his tee shirt over his chest, tapering down to a taut stomach and a trim waist.
It's difficult to explain how twins feel about each other, there's a sense of completeness when they're together, a feeling of being whole. Jamie and I were no exceptions, we'd been close and I'd loved him all my life, adored even. Even in later life every man I encountered was measured up against him and most of them were found wanting. Mark, my fiancé was one of the exceptions, he and Jamie were not at all alike, but Mark had something about him that made me want to spend the rest of my life with him.
He and Jamie got on fine which was a bonus, Jamie had been on Mark's stag do and had steadfastly refused to tell me anything about it. The only thing missing in Jamie's life was a good woman, like me he couldn't seem to find the right one, a procession of them gracing his arm and his bed apparently, but they never lasted long.
"Where do you want to eat?" Jamie interrupted my musings. "Dining room?"
"No, too many memories of Sunday lunch with Mum and Dad, let's eat here." Jamie had opened up the kitchen and lounge into a modern open plan living area, and it was bright and cheerful. He set some mats on the bar and laid out the cutlery and we perched on stools as he served up the carbonara. It tasted as good as it smelled and the wine he'd got was the perfect complement. I took a good mouthful and started to eat.
"Is it strange being back here?" Jamie asked. I'd not visited him at the house for some time, we'd kept in close touch but our jobs took us in different directions and to both our regrets we'd allowed a gap to permeate between us.
"Bits of it are. I mean you've changed the downstairs a lot and made it a completely different house, but my old bedroom is still much the same and I see you've even kept my old bed."
"Yes it seemed too good to get rid of and I don't have guests very often, well not those that need a separate bed," he added a little impishly.
Quite what made me come out with it I don't know, but my mouth suddenly uttered, "I lost my virginity in that bed."
Jamie spluttered, "When? Who? I shall go and immediately demand satisfaction from him." Then realising what he'd just said we burst out laughing, "That's if you didn't get any at the time!"
"Well it was like most people's first time I imagine, brief and not very satisfying and bit messy."
"Go on tell all!"
"Well I was just eighteen and we'd finished school and were waiting to go up to University."
"Yeah, yeah who was it though?" Jamie interrupted me.
I looked at him and said "Peter."
"Peter who?" I could see realisation dawning on his face, "Not Peter Reynolds, my best mate since I was five. He never bloody told me and nor did you. How did it happen?"
My mind went back the best part of ten years to that day, still vivid in my memory. Peter and Jamie were inseparable, we were the twins, but Peter and Jamie were as close. They did everything together and occasionally let me join in. Not boys' stuff and never in Jamie's room which was like their secret den. I shuddered to think what they got up to in there. I often fantasised about bursting in on them, finding them smoking or drinking or masturbating, but never had the courage to do so. Instead I stayed in my room with my own fantasies, making love to one or even both of them, and yes, as I've said before I wasn't above a little masturbation myself.
That particular day I was alone in the house and lying on my bed in my room, I was reading a quite racy book, one that my parents certainly wouldn't have approved of and I actually had my hand in my panties, gently caressing my moist pussy, when the doorbell rang.
Annoyed I got up and went downstairs to find Peter at the door looking for Jamie. "Jamie's not in." He looked a bit crestfallen and I took pity on him "Do you want to come in and hang out for a bit?" He hesitated but finally agreed to come in for a while. We went up to my bedroom and plonked ourselves down on the bed. Immediately he noticed my book and picked it up, his eyes scanning across the pages.
Embarrassed, I snatched it away from him and we tussled, ending up rolling on the bed, fighting for the book. He was too strong for me and before we knew it we suddenly realised that he was lying on top of me. Both embarrassed, we sat up and as I looked down I saw that my blouse had come undone and my bra encased breasts were clearly visible. Now they weren't huge, but they were a fair size and I saw his eyes widen as he looked at them. He seemed to be trying to conceal something in his lap and I realised what I'd done to him.
There had never been anything sexual between us, we'd not really even kissed, just a peck on the cheek, but we looked at each other with palpable tension between us. "Do you like them?" I asked. He nodded, his tongue just protruding enough to moisten his lips. "Do you want to see them properly?" he nodded again and I undid the remainder of the buttons slipping the blouse off my shoulders leaving me naked except for my bra from the waist up.
Suddenly I felt empowered, I could control him make him do anything I wanted and a surge went through me. "If you want me to take this off I want to see you. Take your trousers off and I'll let you see them." He scrambled at his belt and zip and fumbled his trousers down, leaving him in his underwear, his cock tenting it out. "Those as well!" He pulled them down and I saw my first real close up of a man's cock. I hadn't realised they were quite as big and angry looking and I did wonder what I was going to do with it.
I reached behind me and unsnapped my bra, letting it fall forward and off my shoulders. I still held the cups against my breasts, but looking at him square in the eyes I let it slip off. If his eyes had been wide before they were on stalks now. "Touch them if you want." He reached out and grabbed one, "Gently!" I admonished and he relaxed a little and cupped them in his hands, softly brushing his thumbs across my nipples, sending little tingles down through my body.
I'd let a boy touch them before, but only through my clothes and although he'd made a grab up my skirt he'd only managed to brush his hand against my panties. Now I was alone in my room with a boy, man nearly, both of us half naked and I was starting to feel aroused. I extended my hand and held his penis, my hand closing round it, feeling how soft the skin was, but underneath it was rock hard.
I stroked it a little as I had read about in the book and saw the pleasure rise in his eyes. "Would you like to make love to me?" I asked.
