These two were well beyond age of playing pranks and practical jokes on the other. At 23, they were supposed to be adult and act adult.
"Will you two grow up," we heard mom shout.
"No!" Our simultaneous reply cut. "Not until he..." "Not until she..."
"Stop it now!" That was the cry that meant stop. We laughed and returned to our adult minds. The playful taunt only nanoseconds from resuming.
Hopefully you were paying attention the above paragraphs. Many key elements were identified that need expanding. Therefore, the tale begins.
We are a man and a woman at 23 years old. We prefer to live in our childhood minds of playfulness and banter. We are fraternal twins perpetually connected through a mental, some call it psychic, connection twins are said to have. We have it; it must be true.
We live in a professional world by day co-designing and decorating business offices. One of our clients is a major brokerage firm and we have the exclusive contract to decorate their new office floors in the new World Trade Center 1. We believe staying playful helps us with designing and decorating schemes that are edgy and modern or traditional.
We are both about the same height, me an inch taller at five feet eleven inches. I am more bulky as the guy of the duo and weigh about 170 pounds. My sister is the feminine and beautiful part of the duo and very fit at about 130 pounds.
Our eye color and hair color match. Her eyes are a vibrant green with a turquoise halo. Her hair shimmers very light brown that goes almost blond in the summer sun. I don't think I want to describe myself with as glowing reviews as of her.
Who is the who that is my alter ego? Who is she who knows more about than me myself? She is Margaret Mary. She prefers Mary, and so do I, but when I tease her it is with Marge.
I am Peter Thomas. By now you should recognize we are a Roman Catholic family. I use Peter professionally and Pete in my inner circle.
Neither Mary nor I have anyone we call significant other although once in while we violate church principles of purity and chastity. Our work demands more or less 24 hours of our days. To keep life simple, we share an apartment with two bedrooms and two full bathrooms.
I know Mary from 36A bust to 25-inch waist, to her firm 35-inch hips. Her legs are splendidly long and shapely. Our mental bond is so strong; she blushes when I share a thought of her. She is probably blushing a bright crimson right now. We were home for a short summer holiday break. We always enjoying back home in a part of Maine know as "Down East." The city is not Bar Harbor, it is Bah Ha Bah.
This week was 4th of July week so we would go crazy with fireworks. Mary and I would choreograph a display all with legal fireworks.
I sensed Mary getting ready to start a tease anew. "Don't do it, Marge."
That did it she lunged at me with claws out. We heard mom scream, "Take it outside!"
We fought through the kitchen and out the back door. Mary took an unexpected twist and tripped me to the ground then leapt me to declare victory. I saw her coming and braced myself. Mary is quick.
The expected smack down was an unexpected embrace and a tender teasing voice, "This isn't over, Peter Thomas."
"Maybe we should call a truce. We are getting a little too rough." I know Mary understood and we agreed.
We always played; seal it with a kiss, when we called a truce. Mary leaned down and I felt her warmth and her body stretched over me. "Truce, Pete. I love you."
"I love you too, Mary." We sealed our truce with a kiss. I hugged Mary and whispered again, "I love you."
Mary lingered stretched over me after my second expression. She leaned into me again and kissed me differently, womanly.
Back in the house again we set about doing the tasks mom original asked us to do. We were unusually quiet as we worked but caught the other stealing a glance now and then. Our mental connection was working overtime as we tried to process what happened in the yard.
After dinner we did our usual vacation ritual of watching a movie together. It was my turn to pick a movie from our Netflix service. I scrolled through the selections hearing Mary groan when I read a synopsis of a movie she wouldn't like.
I came on an indie title that sounded interesting, "Sisters are Women, Too." Mary gave me her signal and I hit play. The movie began with English subtitles in an Eastern European language I couldn't guess.
The plot told the story of two siblings during World War II who had lost everything but each other. Their relationship evolved as they struggled to survive. As the movie ended, they did survive, did start their own business as husband and wife.
"I looked at Mary who was very intent on the movie, "Kind of like us, don't you think, Mary?"
"Except for war and living as husband and wife." Mary asked an unusual question, "Wonder if they make love?"
I'm not sure which of us was more surprised but Mary blushed red. "I mean they are all they have with everyone gone. Wouldn't you think they would?" Mary became even more embarrassed.
Even through her embarrassment, I saw her thorough inquisitive thought. "Mary, our truce is still on, this is a serious question. Considering their situation, would we?"
"Pete what did you mean outside?" Mary was recalling my what I said and she must have been thinking about the kiss, I was.
"What did your kiss mean, Mary?"
"Pete, it meant what you said." The blush left her face as our new honesty dawned.
All our playfulness today and for how long brought us to this point. Living together even in separate bedrooms, we were the couple on the screen. Our telepathic connection both sensed the answer. "Yes, we will make love."
As we cuddled, the movie ended and the screen saver on the monitor began cycling nature scenes and finally went black in power saver. The darkness that surrounded us did nothing to break the moment we were experiencing.
We shifted our heads slightly and our lips met for brief contact, which quickly became a full on passionate kiss, tongue dueling, spit swapping, love me kiss that we both wanted.
My free arm finished wrapping Mary and pulled her tight to me. I heard Mary's voice in a raspy whisper, "Pete, touch me." I felt her hand sliding down my chest and stopping just above the waistband of my pants.
My hand slowly slid up her chest; I cupped a breast. It was Mary under my fingertips and her nipple was already swollen and poking the palm of my hand. Our intimacy was the catalyst for more kissing. Mary's hand slid lower; she got a feel of my stiffening cock and squeezed. We both sighed in pleasure.
We knew mom was in bed two floors above. We were in the basement "kids" room where we always watched movies. My hand moved to the hem of Mary's T-shirts to glide it high on her chest. With her naked breasts in view, leaning, I suck a nipple into my mouth while pinching the other. Mary jerked her hips in response and rubbed my cock harder.
"Pete, pet me a little." Mary let her legs open a little, her shorts riding up her hips.
My hand drifted slowly down until my fingers reached her leg. With determined action, my hand disappeared under the leg of her shorts and made contact with her already moist panty. My first touch was gentle waiting for Mary's next instruction. She stroked my cock through my pants.
Mary wiggled a bit and pressed herself onto my fingers. "Touch me, Pete."
