Carnal Sins Of Twins Intertwined

My name is Kaitlyn-Marie Swanson.

I go by Katie.

I just turned 18 last week. Same goes for my brother, Hunter. If you're following, that makes us twins. The fraternal kind.

And if you didn't know us, you would never guess that we were siblings.

Hunter is tall, blonde, tanned, and athletic. He's popular. He plays hockey in the winter and baseball during summer. He's in decent shape.

I'm...not.

My hair is darker and my skin is fair. I hate sports, I'm not very outgoing, and I'm the opposite of athletic. I'm actually very heavy.

I hate the way I look. I started putting on weight during puberty, and never seemed to stop. Sure, I don't eat that healthy. And I don't get exercise, like...ever. But it seems like my genes are built to gain. Not like Hunter. If only I had the willpower to change.

But this isn't a diatribe of woe. I'm not depressed or anything. I just stick to myself mostly, with the exception of a couple friends that I only hang out with at school: May and Annie. But they're quieter than me, and we don't talk that much. I basically have no friends.

Hunter is my main source of socializing. Not sure if that counts, being my twin and all. But the thing I need to stress about Hunter is that despite his higher social status, he's always been nice to me.

I'm sure he gets the odd jab about his quiet sister, and questions like: if we're twins, why is Katie so different? Why is she so fat?

But he's always been kind. We've had our tiffs here and there, but they never lasted long. I honestly can't say anything bad about him. I get the sense he would do the same for me. I hope.

We live in a two-story house not far from the school. It's not a rich neighborhood, but it was a safe area to grow up in. Still is. Lots of parks and trails nearby, not that I've utilized them much lately. As my weigh scale knows well.

My mom works at the hospital as an administrative supervisor. Dad flies out to an oil refinery job: two weeks on, two weeks off. He's a foreman, or something.

Which means that a lot of the time, it's just Hunter and myself at the house, keeping each other company. We're pretty used to it. We watch movies, and binge the occasional series. Sometimes we play video games.

Despite being popular, he's kind of a homebody like me after school hours. I think we rely on each other more than we realize. I know I'd be pretty lonely without him.

Like any weekend, we were sitting on the couch, watching a recently added movie on whatever streaming app was thrown on first.

We had a habit of talking over the TV, usually to criticize some stupid plot hole or whatnot.

"They always run away after knocking out the bad guy," said Hunter, scoffing at the thriller we were kind of paying attention to.

"She also threw away the hammer. Like, keep that hammer, bitch!" I said, giggling.

Hunter looked at me with his ocean-blue eyes. "She's dead."

I nodded, smiling.

Five minutes later, we recoiled at the final girl's gruesome, "surprising" death.

"Called it," said Hunter.

The credits rolled.

"So, what now?" I asked, hugging a pillow to my stomach, trying to hide my bunched-up belly rolls. I had my dark hair down in front of my face to hide the blemishes on my cheeks.

"Your call, Katie." He yawned, throwing me the remote. I caught it, and checked my phone. It was already pretty late.

"Mom's working until the morning, right?"

"Yeah. I think she said until dawn or whatever."

Dad was away. We could afford to watch another movie. At least the first half.

"Something funny this time?" I suggested, cycling through the comedies.

"Sure, anything," he said, cozying into his corner of the couch.

"Can't fall asleep," I said sternly.

He held up a middle finger, smiling with tired eyes.

I rolled my brown eyes at him.

I picked a movie at random, rather than spend the usual half-hour it would normally take me. I leaned back into my end of the couch. There was a full cushion's worth of space between us. I stretched my legs out, noticing that my favorite pajamas were getting pretty worn. Chubby thighs will do that.

Hunter stretched out his legs too, resting his own calves between mine. We did that sometimes. It was the extent of our physical contact when we watched TV. Maybe the only contact, period. It seemed acceptable enough as siblings, without feeling weird. Neither of us complained.

We watched the movie without speaking for a bit. I knew I was keeping him up past his usual sleep schedule. He often got up early for practice. But not tomorrow.

"Hey Katie," he said, thumping my thigh with his heel, "can you grab me some water?"

I groaned, but decided to do it anyway. Like I said, I knew he was doing me a small favor by staying up late with me. I sat up, sighing. I came back from the fridge with a glass of filtered water.

I went to hand it to him, but we both fumbled the pass. I dropped the full glass of cold water on his chest.

"Jesus fuck!" he yelped, shocked by the icy water that soaked his whole shirt. At least the glass didn't break.

"Shit, sorry Hunter, I didn't--"

He laughed, but moaned at the discomfort of it all. He sat forward, and peeled off his shirt. It fell to the floor with a wet smack.

My brother was smiling at me, or scowling, as he stood up. His chest was wet, and his fit body glistened. I stared at him for a second before he said, "Maybe a towel, please?"

I laughed. "On it. I didn't mean to, I swear."

"I know," he said, rubbing his chest. "But that was fucked. I owe you one." He grinned.

I sighed, and left for the bathroom to grab a towel. I was standing next to the shower when I turned, and Hunter had appeared.

He pushed me into the open shower-- the kind with no tub-- and I landed on my ass. He reached into the shower and turned the knob before I could react.

I was doused with freezing cold water from above. I screamed, scrambling to get up and out. He turned off the water, but I was drenched. I stood, my clothes sopping wet.

I glared at him, gasping, and I could see it in his face as his smile faded: he knew that he had gone too far.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket, wrapping the towel meant for Hunter around it, frantically drying it off best I could.

"Katie. Fuck, I--"

"Not. Cool." I was fuming. I saw my reflection in the mirror. Raccoon eyes and wet hair. My clothes clung tightly to my curves. I felt like frumpy shit. And I was freezing.

Hunter knew he had fucked up. Never mind if my phone was bricked or not.

"Hug?" he asked impishly. We didn't really hug. Not since I put on weight. I didn't want anybody to feel my bloated body against theirs.

I shook my head. Eyes narrowed. I hadn't been this mad at him for a while.

"I'm going to bed," I said, grabbing an extra towel and pushing past him. I stopped, then came back for my phone wrapped in the towel.

"Katie, I'm sorry," he said, trying to stop me.

"I know. It's fine."

I stormed off to my room. I had moved into the basement after Dad had finished the renovations. I liked my privacy down there. But walking down the stairs to my room that night, I felt like crying.

I suddenly felt very alone. I remembered that I had nobody that really loved me beyond my family, and the next closest thing to a friend was a brother who had startled me with his immature cruelty.

That's how it felt in the moment. After I dried off, and got into fresh clothes, I told myself he had made a simple mistake. An overreaction that was forgivable. My phone turned out to be fine, thanks to the seemingly waterproof case I had on.

I kept expecting his footsteps to echo down the stairs, but he never came. He knew I needed space.

The next day, I met up with him in the kitchen.

"I'm really sorry, Katie. How's your phone?"

He looked like he had an even worse sleep than I did.

"It's fine. Times two."

I smiled, and he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Good. Thank God."

"I guess I should say we're even. Just so you don't have to constantly watch your back."

He looked guilty again. "Not sure if that's fair. But I'll make it up to you."

"No need." I poked his chest. "I started it. You ended it."

He nodded.

We didn't hang out much that day. I spent a lot of time in my room, which was pretty normal. He went out to see a friend.

We talked at school a bit that following week. Not any more than usual. I kept to the library, and Hunter usually hung out in the hall near the gym. Cool kids spot.

We usually walked to and from school together. By Friday, we were back to our usual chatty selves as we walked home.

"Hunter," I said thinking of something that had been on my mind lately.

"Katie," he mirrored.

"Why aren't you dating anybody?"

"What?" he laughed, gripping his backpack.

"Well, you're always around Megan, and Teela, and Brittany, and--"

"Your point, sis?" he said, sounding impatient.

"All those hot girls. Always around them. Never asked any of them out?"

Hunter scoffed, side-eyeing me. "Why are you asking?"

"As the better looking Swanson twin," I said, staring ahead, "It's just weird to me that you're still single."

"I could ask you the same thing," he said.

"Hah." I looked down at my feet. My thick thighs. My belly that pushed out.

"What?" he asked, sounding like he knew what I was going to say.

"I'm nobody's first pick for dating material. Not even as a backup acquaintance."

He sighed, sounding frustrated. I didn't always play the "fat girl" card, but he listened to me vent from time to time.

"Some guys like curvy girls," he said, staring at his feet.

"Like who? I'm probably the only fat girl in our school! The second closest is Mina Fawcett. And she's just a little curvy. I'm the real deal."

I felt myself getting agitated. I appreciated his support, but it didn't apply to the real world. I started to feel irritable and uncomfortable in my clothes. I was probably chafing, too. Fuck.

"And," I continued, "if there were guys here that liked me the way I looked, they would have asked me out by now. So far, not the case. And school's nearly over."

I felt a chill, as a gust of wind blew yellow leaves across our path. It was the end of September. One month down. Not many more to go.

"Anyways," said Hunter, "to answer your original question...I like those girls from school. But they're not really..."

"If you say 'not really your type' I'm going to punch you. They're skinny, and pretty. All of them."

Hunter shrugged.

I sighed. "Sorry. Just being testy. I asked you, and then I just...blew up."

He smiled. "There's lots of girls who I think are pretty, but I don't get along with them enough to want to date them. I don't know if I'm just weird, but...I don't think dating is that important."

"Oh. Okay." I decided to let it go. I looked at him and he seemed guarded. "I just assumed that...anyways. Let's forget it."

We did. We got home, and forgot about school, and all the drama that came with it. I decided to have a shower. Hunter was watching TV down the hall.

I took off my clothes, and stared at my naked body. I didn't like it, but that didn't mean I ignored it. I was constantly assessing if certain parts were getting bigger, or drooping more than they should.

My boobs were big, but they just felt like extra fat to me. My arms-- especially where my biceps should be-- were very soft and big. They jiggled. I hated it.

My belly was fat but it didn't hang down. But it ballooned out just above my waistline, like a pregnant woman. My sides had rolls, my calves were thick...

My thighs bothered me the most. There were pinkish stripes from stretch marks that had appeared in the last year. My ass was fat, but I wasn't bottom heavy exactly. I had plenty of curves, but I just felt boxy.

My junk was shaved, simply because I smelled bad if I didn't keep it bald. Body odor was already something I barely kept in check.

And that was me, just an overweight teen, whose future probably involved even more weight gain the older I got.

I shook my head, and hopped into the same shower Hunter had knocked me into a week before. I thought about the shock of the cold water, and the seething rage I had for a short time. I thought of hunter, standing shirtless, and his muscles that--

I tilted my head, frowning in the shower as I paused. I rolled my eyes to no one, resuming my shampoo application, chalking my temporary thoughts of Hunter's body to being exhausted. Thinking nothing of it. Along with my hair products, my strange daydream was swiftly circling the drain.

I toweled off, got dressed in comfy clothes-- best part of the day-- and found Hunter sprawled out on the couch.

He saw me, and lifted his legs like a drawbridge.

I sat down, and he lowered them back on top of my thighs. I usually felt okay about myself when I was around him. I didn't feel judged like I would have with every other guy at school.

"Good shower?" he asked.

"Better with warm water," I said without missing a beat.

"Touché." He stretched, and his calves brushed along the top of my legs again. His shirt was bunched up a little. I could see the outline of his junk through his sweats. I glanced away, feeling stupid for looking in the first place. It wasn't intentional.

"Dad will be back next week," he said.

"Nice," I said absentmindedly. I missed Dad, but I kind of liked how quiet the house was when he was away and Mom was working.

"Last weekend to live like slobs. And to not have to share the couch." He rapidly pummeled my thighs with his calves, grinning with excitement over a mildly exciting perk of absent parents. My thighs were jiggling and I started to feel a sensation between my legs that felt wrong immediately.

"Quit it, Hunter," I scolded, but not intensely enough. He kept it up like a brat, but eventually gave up. That sensation between my legs faded quickly.

"Sorry, Katie," he said, looking at me playfully. He was being weird, but not in a shitty way exactly. Just having a little more fun in my presence. A little more chummy.

I stole the remote away and started looking for something light. I found a reality show about blind dates, and threw it on. Hunter groaned, but didn't leave.

After a bit, two couples on TV met up that were opposites: a very slim, fair-skinned attractive guy, and a tall, very curvaceous black woman.

"Hey, maybe this guy is one of THOSE guys, if she's lucky," I said casually.

Hunter looked to me. "What?"

"Guys who like big girls."

"Oh," he said, looking to the woman on TV, frowning. "Right."

We watched the two people on their pre-recorded, heavily edited date. Hunter's legs stayed on top of mine for a bit until he slowly pulled them closer to himself. Knees up and feet together, next to my thigh.

I didn't think much of it. Until I noticed him looking down at his crotch for a second, then back to the TV. I had a theory that I wanted to test without being rude. I stood up suddenly.

"Getting a drink. Need me to spill anything on you?" I asked as I walked past him. He suddenly reached across his waist to scratch his knee, then left his hand there.

"No, thanks," he said casually, but something felt off. Like he was hiding something. Literally.

I definitely had no intention of asking him about what I thought I saw, because: gross.

Boys got boners. I didn't want to talk to my brother about his. But I kept my theory in the back of my mind for later.

I pretended that the show was boring, even though I was curious to find out what that guy thought of her. I hadn't really spent much of my time looking into how common it was for guys to be into bigger girls.

When I changed the show to something else, he seemed relieved, but I didn't think it had to do with the previous content being below him. I think he was glad that he didn't have to keep watching that woman. For reasons I would ponder later.

We found a movie, and spent our night doing the usual. Before bed, he said goodnight, and gave me a quick hug before I could refuse.

"Everybody gets one," I said, grimacing. He let me go.

"Night, Katie." He smiled as I left for the stairs.

"Night bro."

I was in my cozy, little room again. I tidied my clothes for a while as I listened to music, and put away some junk food wrappers.

My room had no windows. Just a bunch of school art of my own making, and some posters.

I stayed awake in bed for awhile. I unpacked all my thoughts about the day, and his reaction to that woman. She was taller and heavier than me. Black too-- but I don't think that made a difference to him.

I was fairly certain he had been aroused. I tried to keep clinical about it, as if I was just a scientist reviewing data. A generic, male erection.

I thought back to his conversation about some guys being into curvy girls. His temperament when I questioned him about the skinny girls he didn't want to date.

In a way, despite having zero idea what he really liked, it made me feel better, thinking he might be into heavier bodies. Maybe there was some guy out there who could get a boner for me too. One day.

The idea was enough get me frisky. I turned off my light, thinking about a guy with a nice body who thought my bigger body was nice enough too. It wasn't much of a fantasy to go on. But I committed, and diddled myself to completion before too long.

One benefit to a whole floor to myself: I could touch myself without fear of anybody hearing. I didn't do it a lot. Mostly when I was stressed, or feeling extra lonely.

I sighed, rolling over to fall asleep. I didn't wake up until the morning.

I climbed the stairs. Hunter wasn't around. I checked my phone, and he had sent a text when it was still on silent mode.

He had gone to play baseball. Last game of the season. Back by dinner.

I sighed, feeling a little bummed. I didn't have anyone to hang out with. But that was on me. I needed to branch out more. I wandered through my house. I walked past my parents bedroom. Mom was snoring soundly behind the closed door, recuperating from a long shift.

I wandered into Hunter's room. He had some trophies on a shelf. His laptop was opened, but turned off. Dirty clothes everywhere. It smelled like him in here: like deodorant, and his unique musk. I sat on his bed, flipping through some sports magazines.

I spied a sock crammed behind his bed near the wall. I should have known better, but I grabbed it, only to find it was damp. I sniffed it, and it was definitely used for his own...needs. I gagged, and threw it away, rubbing my hands on his bed. I hopped off his mattress and wiped the seat of my pajamas for good measure.

Gross, I thought. But, it was kind of funny to me that guys had evidence of their climaxes, where girls didn't, really. Not like that. I didn't judge him, as I obviously did it too. But suddenly, I felt very dirty for even thinking about Hunter doing it, even objectively.

I was about to leave his room when I glanced at his laptop again. I wiggled his mouse. It needed a password.

I typed Bas3ba11! into the box. It was his password for all his game console logins.

His desktop appeared onscreen.

Hmm, I thought, and started to snoop around. I didn't find anything interesting in his files. No images of girls in bikinis, or whatever I was expecting to find.

I almost turned it off, but stopped.

I decided to check his internet history. I knew I was being a creep, and breaking all kinds of trust that we had built over the years. But still, I persisted.

More than likely, if it was anything weird, he would have cleared his history. Or, searched privately-- whatever they called that stupid thing.

But then I found it. His search history.

I put a hand to my face as I read the searches. I heard my mom waking up. I exited out, shut it off, and left it more or less how I found it.