June 14th was a special night for Melissa and Mark. It was two days before the twins' birthday. Born mere seconds apart, the Gemini's had been close for as long as they lived. Perhaps it was their nature as twins, but they had felt intimate forever. As infants, one would throw a tantrum if the other were removed from the room.
Mark felt that separation now. He awoke, sure of the feeling that Melissa was awake as well. He glanced around the room. Melissa was not there. He sighed. That was because she had her own room now. It wasn't appropriate for teens of their age to share a room anymore. That's what their parents had said, anyway. They could never understand the bond between the two. Mark had never felt uncomfortable with Melissa in his entire life.
He removed the sheet that was covering his body, and got up. He knew where she was.
Melissa was lying on the roof of the house. The heat from the sunlight of the day kept the black shingles that coated the roof warm long into the night. She lay on one of the soft towels that she loved, with her hands behind her head as she gazed at the stars. She sighed. Mark would be showing up soon.
As if on cue, Mark poked his head out of the window that opened to the roof. "Hey," he said softly.
"Hey," she answered.
Mark stepped through the window and stopped a minute to gaze at his lovely twin sister. They were quite a mixed up pair of twins. She had nice white skin of cream; he got a tan going out to get the mail. The black of the roof just accentuated the paleness of her skin. Melissa was a swimmer, and her body's tone reflected it. Her nightshirt flowed gently over her ample B cup breasts. Her long, muscled legs led up to soft, womanly hips. Hips that her nightshirt barely covered, to Mark's delight. He quietly told her, "I like that nightshirt."
She giggled. "I hate those shorts," she answered, not looking at him. She didn't have to see him to know what he was wearing, but she looked anyway. Her brother had had a pair of sweatpants that he refused to throw out, and when they finally became ripped, he cut them into a pair of shorts. That was all he was wearing. She knew that he usually slept naked, and he had put them on to come talk to her. It was purely cosmetic, as she had seen him naked many times before. She smiled as she remembered the first time.
It was seven years ago, now. On a weekend, she had jumped on his bed, to wake him up. Startled, he hadn't had the time to react when she pulled down the sheets. She had gotten the shock of her life when she saw there was nothing on him. Even more surprising, his cock was stiff as a rod, something she had heard about, but never seen. He started to sputter things out, but she silenced him with a finger on his mouth.
"It's ok," she had said. "You showed me yours, so I'll show you mine!"
Then, with a giggle, she started to remove her nightshirt…
That had been a fun day. Now, his body was like a sculptor's dream. His 180-pound frame made the muscle that he had stand out. Despite that rich tone, he wasn't an athlete—he left that to his sister. He was in good shape for the sake of being in good shape.
"Mind if I lay next to you?" he asked.
"Pull up a shingle," she laughed in reply.
He sat down beside her, and then lay back, with his arms behind his head, just like her. His elbows playfully bumped against hers, and they shoved them against each other for a few seconds. The height difference between them was apparent, as his feet were several inches down from hers.
"Whatcha thinkin' about?" he asked.
"You know what!" she said.
"Yep," he sighed. "Two days."
"Two days," she repeated.
All those years ago, when they had realized that their intimate feelings for each other were something special, they had made a pact. A pact that they wouldn't fulfill those feelings until they had turned eighteen. They had agreed that those feelings would build up until they finally boiled over. In the meantime, they had learned each other's bodies as intimately as they knew their own.
"Are you excited?" she asked.
"Uh, yeah!" he blurted.
Melissa reached over and put her left hand on Mark's waist. "Me too," she whispered.
She gently began to stroke the quickly hardening package in his shorts. He shuddered and sighed softly. Other girls had run their hands over his naked penis before, but they never got the same reaction from him as his sister could bring. Her touch had a current of electricity in it. He believed that it came from the intimate bond between them. She could touch his cock through layers of clothes and still make him cum, and he could do the same to her. It was part of their intimacy that each knew exactly what the other liked.
He draped his right leg over her left one and then intertwined the two of them. She moaned softly. He knew very well that she loved to feel his leg hair tickling her smooth, pale skin. As a reward, she gently palmed his balls through his shorts, making him gasp.
"You're going to make me come," he exclaimed.
"I know," she giggled.
He struggled to not concentrate solely on the feelings of his building orgasm. The scent of his sister's rich pussy juice intoxicated him, and he knew that she must be so wet that it was literally dripping out of her. And that meant she was extremely horny.
It was time to race. As brother and sister, both of them were extremely competitive with each other. This was a pattern they had fallen into a long time ago. She would begin to stroke him, and he would wrap his leg around hers. When he could tell she was horny enough, he'd start to finger her. They would then being to masturbate each other to see who came first. The reward for winning was getting to come on the other person. They both knew Melissa currently had a six-come winning streak- she was a very determined girl. She loved forcing Mark to lie still and rub her sopping pussy all over his bare chest while she built up to orgasm. She loved to see her juice glistening on his hard nipples as her stared into her eyes.
But Mark was not willing to lose again. He had given her a head start, but he could tell from her strong scent that she was already worked up. It had been weeks since they had had a chance to be alone, and releasing their sexual tensions with other people was never quite as good. So Mark felt he had an advantage.
Without hesitation, he plunged his middle finger deep into her pussy. Just as he thought, she was soaking, and the finger oozed right in. Melissa cried out and arched her back- she was unprepared for the direct assault on her senses. Mark usually teased her all over her legs- her biggest erogenous zone- before heading into her wetness. He must have really wanted to win.
She caught her breath and grunted, "Ok then!"
She reached down his shorts and began to move her hand right on his hard cock. He gasped again- the feeling of her soft skin on his prick always got him to cum. She was not holding back either.
The two did not exchange any more words. They focused on each other's heavy breathing. The only sound besides that one was that of the rapidly slapping flesh on flesh.
His middle finger forcefully probed her wet hole, rubbing her walls endlessly as his knuckles pressed against her lips when he pushed deep inside her. The rapid in-and-out motion was made more erotic by the wet sounds her juices made as they slurped against his finger trying to ooze their way out.
Her hand wrapped itself around his cock. Using only her thumb and forefinger, she pulled rapidly- almost violently- on his impossibly stiff dick. His precum continually oozed out as she silently willed him to cum before she did. Finally, the heel of his palm hit her clit one too many times, and her hand stopped. She arched her back wildly as her orgasm began to overtake her. Mark did not stop his incessant pounding of her soft sex. Her breath came in gasps as her body shook out of her control, racked by waves of pure pleasure. She squeezed his leg tightly with hers as she reached out toward nothing with her free hand.
Mark silently watched in amazement. He never tired of seeing his twin sister come. It was as if she sucked the whole world right into her pussy and squeezed it with all her might, just trying to get that feeling to last for one second longer.
Soon, she began to come down of that high cliff of hers, and her hips rocked slowly in the afterglow of her pleasure. Mark slowed his finger motion to match her hips, but he didn't stop. He thankfully sighed to himself. He had thought he was going to lose- he was about five seconds away from orgasm himself. Melissa had taken him to the limit- and this trick wouldn't work on her again. He would have to come up with something different next time. Her asshole was rosy red and puckered tight. He figured he'd surprise her there next time. He knew she practiced his techniques on herself so she could get used to the way they felt. She was that competitive. Sometimes she let him watch her 'practice', and coach her to make sure she was doing it right. Getting her to come (and come hard) was a skill that took practice. She loved that he could do it so well to her. Of course, she hated to lose as well.
