This story was going to be my entry into the 'Summer lovin' 2022' competition, but I got too involved in adjusting an unpublished story and completing my 'Tranny Babysitter Trilogy' to get it in on time. However, just in case it does make the cut-off, and as well-known former Queensland Premier Joh Bjelke-Petersen would say, please vote early and often.
The Twins.
'Twas the summer of '69'. Actually, it wasn't. In the southern-hemisphere summer of '68/'69, I was all of five years old. I turned six in the middle of winter.
It was summer when I met the twins Sarah Jessica and Mary Louise Parker, the summer of 2007/2008, and I was forty-four. Sarah Jessica (SJ) and Mary Lou were dating my twin sons.
The Parker twins are non-identical. You'd doubt they're even related if you didn't know they're twins. SJ is a horse-faced girl, quite pretty but not beautiful. Her natural hair colour is black, but she always dyes it honey blonde. Her eyes are hazel, spaced quite close together, and her nose is too large.
Striking was the word that always came to my mind when I saw her. Striking, just not beautiful.
SJ has a great body, however. Big breasts, a tiny waist and a round, firm butt. According to her 'cheerleader stats', she is 36-25-35. Maybe what made her breasts seem so big is that she is only 5-ft. 2-in. (154 cm) tall and weighs barely 112 lbs. (51 Kg). Perhaps because her breasts sit high and firm like gorgeously ripe apples on her thin frame is also to blame.
Okay, I admit it. I've had some very inappropriate fantasies about my son's girlfriend. I dreamed that under her snotty, stuck-up exterior lurked a dirty girl that loved rough sex. A little cock-hungry slut that adored older men.
Mary Louise (Mary Lou), in comparison, is an absolute stunner. Mary Lou is way taller than her older by one hour twin. Mary Lou stands close to the 5-ft. 8-in. (173 cm) mark. She keeps her figure trim and toned with a regular exercise regime of Pilates, Yoga, and Tae-bo.
Mary Lou spurned cheerleading as 'beneath her dignity', so I could not look up her stats. But, compared with similar girls I did have stats for, I guessed she is probably 35-25-35. So quite close to her sister. Maybe their height difference and the extra 10 Kg Mary Lou had over her sister made her breasts seem like crab apples to SJ's red delicious ones.
Yup, you caught me again. I have even worse fantasies about Mary Lou than I have about SJ. In those fantasies, the twins are incestuous, and SJ loved Mary Lou pegging her ass as SJ rode me.
Mary Lou stands out in any crowd with her dark brown eyes, full lips, and impish smile. Together, Mary Lou and SJ turn heads wherever they go.
I'd been single for almost two years when my sons brought the twins into my life. I'd divorced after coming home unexpectedly to find my wife in bed with two of the three guys I play golf with. The third guy had, apparently, just left.
I wouldn't have minded so much if I'd been allowed to know and join in.
The wife packed her bags and left. The divorce came through the mail around six months later.
I still play golf with those three guys every Saturday.
You won't find my name on any rich list anywhere, but I'm doing okay. Even after the divorce, I have enough money to do whatever I wish. I don't have any qualifications or training in the stock market. But, if you're smart, keep an ear to the ground, listen to the right people, and ask the right questions, money can always be made in both a bear and a bull market.
Oh. We don't have a 'bear market' in Australia. Selling shares you don't currently own is illegal here. But it's 2012. The global economy is ripe for the picking if you know how to access it.
I own a lovely bayside house with unimpeded views out to Stradbroke Island and drive a gull-winged Mercedes-AMG Black. Strangely, mine is bright red, not black.
My passion is high-speed boats. I have a Mercedes-AMG powered 1,000 horsepower monster I take out every chance I get. You can water-ski behind it, but you'd better get someone other than me to steer. I tend to forget you're there and open the taps up.
My boat goes almost 160 mph (200 kph). I'm sure it can go faster, but it's limited to there, and I haven't figured out how to turn the limiter off.
160 miles per hour in a boat is not the same as on the road! That fast on land is exhilarating. But, on the water, it is, quite frankly, terrifying. A real buzz, but fuck scary!
I've got to wait until I'm out past Straddie (Stradbroke Island) before I'm legally allowed to open Shelly (my boat's name) up. I could do it in the bay because no police boat would catch me, but my boat stands out. So it's hard to deny it was you when yours is the only boat of its kind in the harbour.
The Parker twins only dated my boys, Gary and Aaron, for around twelve months. Gary had taken a job in a brokerage firm in New York, and SJ wasn't prepared to move.
Mary Lou broke up with Aaron at the same time. I didn't know why.
Aaron has chosen to live with his mother. So that means I have this massive house with just me in it. It seems a bit silly, really.
When SJ and Gareth broke up, I assumed I wouldn't see either of the twins again. But, once Gary had departed for New York, Mary Lou started to drop by. May-Lou is an adrenalin junkie and loves skimming across the wave tops at full throttle in my boat. SJ sometimes accompanies her.
Mary Lou began calling me Daddy John. I think it was a joke, but I wasn't sure what the punchline was.
I look after myself. Physical appearance matters when you're conducting multi-million dollar transactions. I have a well-equipped home gym in the rec room and have a personal trainer come in twice a week to run me through my paces.
Standing 6-ft 4-in. (193 cm) tall, I weigh just a little over 187 lbs. (85 kg). My body fat percentage is an athlete's less than 4%. I'd had some success as a track athlete during high school, and I liked to keep myself close to that fit.
I can bench-press nearly twice my body weight and deadlift half more again than what I weigh.
I don't smoke, only drink socially, and avoid sugary drinks and refined sugars. I have a chef come in once a week to plan and prepare all my daily meals.
I don't believe I'm handsome, but women have often told me I am. Guys say I look like a smacked ass, however.
With the age gap between us, I never thought that Mary Lou wanted anything from me other than the chance to ride in and occasionally steer my boat.
Other than in my fantasies, I mean.
Guys, believe it or not, picking up tarts is exceptionally easy. Stand tall, smile a lot, have a quick joke or facetious line ready, and act confident. Stay sober! I cannot emphasise this enough. No self-respecting woman wants to be breathed beerilly (breath reeking of beer) over and have her breasts groped as you slur, "Wanna dansh, shweethart?"
Most women I've met like the smell of scotch and hate the smell of rum, so figure it out, okay?
I'm reasonably good-looking, well-spoken, and have money. I can dance well and hold a conversation about just about anything. Plus, I can feign interest in the things women find important: The Royal Family, the Kardashians, etc. So I don't suffer from any lack of female company.
The problem is finding one that isn't a social climber or only interested in my money.
Seriously, more often than not, I found it easier and more enjoyable to call a high-priced escort and then treat her to a night out and dinner than trying to pick someone up. The escort is usually a better conversationalist, more beautiful and better made and dressed up than any girl you're going to meet out. The added bonus is that with the escort, you're guaranteed to get sex.
As a lot of the business I do is with firms in Europe, the UK, or the USA, I'm typically up for most of the night because that's daytime where they are. It's all good as I usually only need between three and four hours of sleep a night.
Mary Lou is a radiographer with Queensland Health. Because there is a skills shortage in this area, Mary Lou was kept busy but could rack up her 40 allowed work hours per week in three to four days, so I'd often get a phone call after midday Thursday to see if I was taking the boat out.
We'd been out on the water so often that I jokingly said, "We've been seen together so many times your father will think we're dating."
Mary Lou gave me a quizzical smile, "If you're uncomfortable being seen with me, Daddy John, I can stop coming over. Besides, SJ and I only date twin brothers. You don't have a twin hiding somewhere, do you?"
Deadpan, I answered, "Well, actually, I do. It's just that my brother and I are so awesome that we dare not be in the same room at the same time in case something explodes or we cause an earthquake."
Mary Lou laughed and patted my arm fondly, "You'll have to introduce him to me one day soon, Daddy John. I'd like to meet this 'awesome' twin."
Maintaining the charade, I replied, "I guess I could arrange it, but Murray and I have to be very careful in case we accidentally meet. Many women have been known to faint at the sheer brilliance of our awesomeness."
"Wait," Mary Lou said. "You're John Murray, and your twin is Murray Murray?"
"No. He had his name changed by deed poll to Murray John."
"Twins, John Murray and Murray John? Wow! That's like the opposite. Are you the opposite in every other way, too? Is your brother short, fat, bald and poor?"
"Don't be silly, Mary Lou," I joked. "How can identical twins be the opposite of the other?"
Mary Lou was laughing out loud and holding her sides, "I've got to meet this twin, Daddy John, but how will I tell you apart?"
"Oh, that's easy, Mary Lou. Murray John has a moustache."
Chuckling, Mary Lou responded, "Okay, I've got all Monday off. Monday is a free day for you, isn't it, because it's Sunday where most of your markets are? I'll bring a bottle of wine, and you can get your chef to make us lunch, and I'll meet your twin."
I pretended to be crestfallen, "Murray John doesn't drink wine, Mary Lou. He only drinks single malt scotch."
Laughing again, Mary Lou replied, "I'll bring a bottle of Glen Fiddich as well, just for him."
"Will SJ be coming?" I asked. "If you're getting to meet my twin, it's only fair my twin gets to meet yours."
"I can bring her, for sure. We aren't that awesome that we can't be seen together."
We spent the rest of that day blasting around Moreton bay. It was too rough to go out beyond the islands. It was probably a little too rough in the bay to be doing the speeds we were, but I'm confident in my boat and sure of my skills.
Besides, some of the bumps would knock Mary Lou off balance, and she would squeal delightedly as she flung her arms around me to stop from falling over. Her breasts, covered only by a thin T-shirt, felt very nice pressed against my arm, side or back.
I let Mary Lou complete the loop around Mud Island and back to my jetty. I controlled the throttle, though. It was getting quite rough, and I didn't want my adrenalin junkie friend deciding to see if she could launch the boat into the sky.
Mary Lou was either cold, unlikely given it was a warm early summer's day, or aroused as her nipples were rock-like pebbles against the inside of her T-shirt when we pulled up at my jetty.
Squeezing my bicep and kissing my cheek, Mary Lou said, "That was so much fun, Daddy John. Does your brother drive the boat equally as well?"
Continuing the earlier theme, I answered, "I don't know, Mary Lou. Us both being on the same boat at the same time would probably cause a tidal wave or monsoonal trough to develop."
"Maybe I could go out with him one day and find out, then."
Pretending to be confused, I asked, "You want to go on a date with Murray John? We're twice your age, almost."
Chuckling, Mary Lou slapped my arm, "On the boat, silly! Besides, we've never gone out for dinner because you've never asked me!"
