Twins Find Each Other

Our parents were hippies. No, really. Haight-Ashbury, Summer of love and everything. Our folks found each other, and were really a good match. They married in Golden Gate Park in 1970, and we were born three years later. Mom didn’t expect twins, because she didn’t believe in doctors, so we were birthed by a midwife. A midwife who almost left before my brother was born, because she was really a pot-head who believed in the miracle of childbirth up until the moment she witnessed it. Then it was gross.

Our parents actually got us birth certificates and named us Michelle and Michael. Classy, right? But they called us Mike and Mikie. Imagine how confused my mother got after her third joint. Thank god for public health clinics in California. We were well cared for, but I got sick in kindergarten. I contracted pleurosis. Michael pronounced it ‘blue roses.’ From then on, he called me Blue Rose, which later became Rosie. Even today, he calls me Rosie. When I decided to get a tattoo, it had to be a blue rose.

I always called him Bubbie. Today, I call him Bub. No one else uses these names for us, and I don’t think we would allow them to.

We moved back to Indiana in the late 70’s and my folks did their best to provide for us. My dad had a degree in philosophy, but ran a forklift in a factory. My mom had a degree in art, and worked in a paint store (read wall paint). Our folks worked hard and gave up a lot for us. They also gave lots to worthy causes. We lived in a very 60s style even into the 80’s. We were poor since they gave away most of their money, but very happy. We had a great family life growing up.

Bubbie and I were inseparable. Through school, we stayed close. I liked art and science and he liked language. We helped each other through it all. We shared a room our whole childhood. Our twin beds lay end to end, and we talked out our problems deep into many nights. If either one of us was really upset, we slept together. In the winter, we slept together if I was cold, which was often. Because of my childhood illness, I was much smaller than he and I was skinny – no body fat to keep me warm. We are hand holders. We are opposite sides of a coin.

I was a gawky teen. I was skinny and boyish. I did well at sports, but I was small. Bubbie helped me so much. It was like having another part of me that could understand what I could not. We were so much a part of one another. I knew before he did when he had a crush on a girl. He knew every time a boy crushed my heart. Michael had lots of girlfriends and I loved most of them. I had tons of crushes and only dated one guy, just because he was the only one to ask. Bubbie knew.

My brother is so smart. He developed a knack for language and decided to go into the foreign service. I loved art. We went to different colleges. It was really hard. Our separation was more difficult than we expected. It was as if a part of each of us had gone far away. Life afforded us opportunities which kept us apart. I had summer school, he studied abroad. We stayed in touch, and still do. But after college started, the only time we saw one another was July 4 weekend and Christmas, at our folks’ home. Even those times were filled with family and other friends. We didn’t get to be together, just us. It was hard on both of us.

We speak or communicate three or four times a week, but we are not together more than those two times a year, some years not even that much. I have wanted to visit him at his postings, but he has kept me away. Lagos, Nigeria and Riyadh, Saudi Arabia are no place for a ‘cute white girl’ he said. When he got posted to Paris, he finally said to come on.

French is his best language, but he speaks Arabic and Spanish fairly well. I took French because of him, and I got fairly good at it. I was about to change jobs, so I decided to take a month and be with the yin to my yang for an extended period for the first time in nearly ten years.

Summer is not the best time for Paris. The weather feels like the Midwest of America, 90 degrees and 90% humidity. No wonder everyone leaves in July & August. I had no choice. July was it or never. After July 4 weekend at home, we flew to Paris together.

Michael is still a lower-level diplomat, so he has a small studio apartment the State Department chose for him. For life in one room, it was fairly well designed and Michael is very neat. It was all him. It was so nice to be with my kindred spirit. And, lying on the bed, you could see the Eiffel Tower. I was so jealous.

He took me everywhere. Louvre, the tower, Notre Dame, Montmartre, Invalides, Pont Neuf, and on and on. And we ate like royalty, for cheap. Michael knew lots of people and they directed us to great restaurants that treated you like family. He knew tons of unique sites that were charming. It was so exciting. I learned so much. We spoke French as much as we could. I was thrilled.

We have always been touchy-feely with one another. I think it is the womb thing. We have always held hands and hugged. We snuggle.

Every night, we curled up on his bed and passed out. By day four, I was reaching my limit. I could barely walk because of the pain in my claves. We had either walked or taken the Metro everywhere. I ached from many parts of my body.

That morning, I said, “Bubbie, this is our last day of marathon sightseeing. I know you want to share all of your Paris with me, but I’ll be here all month. Please don’t kill me the first week. I want to sleep in tomorrow.”

“Okay, Rosie. I’m sorry. I’ll cut down on the schedule today, we’ll have an early dinner and go home and I’ll give you a back rub.”

After the Luxembourg Gardens and the Tuilleries, we had dinner. He did give me a back rub. It was deep and soothing and reminded me of our teenage years. When I first got my period and would have debilitating cramps, Bubbie would massage my tummy to make me sleep.

I was out by ten that night. That’s really early for Paris. I don’t think they sleep there. Night ends late and morning starts early.

I am not particularly modest, never have been. I sleep in little or nothing most of the time, unless I am cold. Summer in Paris is not cold. Michael’s apartment was hot with only a small window fan moving the air. I had my top off for the back rub anyway. I sat up and stripped the rest of the way. “It’s way too hot to sleep in clothes. I’m going buff.”

“You fucking nudist! You’ve never liked clothes. I remember you pulling down your diaper and pissing in the houseplants,” he snarled.

“You only remember the good times,” I said. “I’m sleeping with this fan blowing on my naked body. Deal with it,” I growled back at him. I was nude by then.

Then it was like he actually looked at me. “Wow. You have tits and an ass now. I haven’t noticed. When did that happen?”

“We have actually seen each other over the last ten years. I can’t believe you haven’t noticed. Yes, I was a late bloomer. Probably the last time you saw me naked was the weekend of our high school graduation, in the hot tub with a dozen of our closest friends. I was square and flat, front and back. But things have changed. Don’t you remember me calling and complaining about my boobs hurting? That was when they finally began to grow. Not that they grew that much.”

“Yeah, I just thought you were being a girl. I understood the mental stuff you were going through, but I guess I didn’t understand the physical. Sorry. But, uh, nice tits, great ass, too”

“Shut up idiot. I’m going to sleep,” I said.

I awoke in the palest of pre-dawn skies. I was lying on my side. Through half-opened eyes, slightly crusted over, I glimpsed the Eiffel Tower. I was warm, but uncovered. My nipples were hard with cold, but my ass and my back were warm. Slowly, I realized that Michael was curled up behind me, like spoons. It was nice. I felt his dick semi-hard pushing against my ass cheeks. It was just morning wood. I widened my legs, and his dick popped up so I could take it between my thighs. I looked down and could see my pussy with Michael’s dick head coming up between my pussy lips. I felt like I had a pussy and a dick at the same time. I started to play with it like it was my own, and it got harder and longer. It was wild to see my pubic hair curling over my pussy lips with this penis resting between them. It was like I had a cock sticking up out of my pussy. I started to pump it like I was jacking off my own dick.

I don’t know if it was being sleepy, but I didn’t really think about what I was doing. I didn’t think about this being my brother or any of that. He was part of me and now this special part of him felt like it was part of me. As I stroked him, his hard shaft rubbed against my clit and it got hard. So, I had a hard clit, swollen pussy lips and a rigid cock. I began to need an orgasm bad.

Suddenly, I couldn’t stand it anymore, I angled my pelvis forward and slipped his raging hard dick into my pussy and began to rock back and forth on his shaft. Until then, I thought he was asleep. But, he began to moan. I began to moan and squeal and make weird noises. It was like fucking yourself. Not like masturbating, like actually having intercourse with yourself.

I concentrated on the feeling of his dick sliding in and out of me. All my nerve endings were firing. My pussy lips wrapped around his dick with each pass. God, his fucking was fucking great.

Still laying like spoons, I pumped and pumped my pussy on him as hard as I could. Then we slowed down . Bit by bit, we slowed our pace, until his dick was sliding almost completely out of me and then nailing it back in my hole. I started to tremble, and he knew what was coming, and it was both of us. His jizz filled me up. I felt bathed in a coat of masculinity. God, I came again and again. Slowly we stopped our thrusts. I settled back on his now semi-hard dick, and we fell back to sleep, his dick deep in my pussy. I never wanted to have his dick out of my pussy.

When we awoke hours later, we were laying in the same position, but his cock was soft and no longer in my pussy. I rolled over to face him, my arms around him and I nuzzled into his neck. “Are you mad at me?” I asked in a soft, little-girl voice that I did not know I possessed any longer.

“What would I be mad at you for?” he asked.

“Bubbie, your Rosie fucked you. That was probably wrong. I didn’t even ask. I just put your dick in me and did what I wanted.”

“Rosie, I woke up, felt your hands on me, felt you taking me into you, and I didn’t stop you. What makes you think I didn’t want it too? I have had fantasies about you for years. Of course, those fantasies were of a girl with no ass and no tits, just a girl who was part of me. Now that girl has a beautiful ass and perky little tits and my cock has been deep inside her. She is more a part of me now than ever. You weren’t being selfish, you were just the brave one.”

“Did you really fantasize about having sex with me, even when I had no boobs and no waist and no ass?”

“Rosie, when I began to think about those things, you were my image of what women looked like. You aren’t shy about showing your body. I remember seeing you after you got pubic hair. It was exciting. I thought that’s what all women looked like. You can imagine my surprise when I saw my first Playboy…”

“Startling revelation,” I giggled. I smiled at him, took his face in my hands and kissed him gently. “You are so sweet. You have always been the other side of me. Now my other side has been in me, and I feel more complete, more whole.” I kissed him harder, my tongue searching to part his lips. His mouth opened and his tongue met mine. It was soft and silky yet strong. He licked my teeth and probed my mouth. My hands explored his body, eventually finding his ass, stroking and cupping his cheeks.

His hands were busy as he tongued me, quickly finding my breasts. He stroked them around their bases, just where they meet my chest. He slowly worked his way in until he was circling my nipples. His lips left mine and he bent to my breasts. He licked my aureoles. No one had ever done that to me before and it excited me more than I would have ever expected. Though they hadn’t been touched, my nipples stiffened and enlarged. And deep below, I could feel my pussy lips swell and my juices begin to flow. Finally he took each nipple, one after the other and rolled each between his teeth and tongue, eventually sucking hard on each until, I swear, my nipples stuck out and inch or more.

I was on the verge of orgasm, but I knew I could wait. I wanted my brother, my twin, the other half of my being, in a very special way.

Gently, I pushed him off my little breasts, rolled him onto his back and began to kiss his body all over. I licked him and kissed him. I sucked his nipples and licked his belly button. But I knew where I was headed. I wanted that big stiff cock in my mouth. When I got to it, it seem enormous, but I wanted to make it bigger. I licked around the edge of the head. I sucked on the tip, pulling out all the salty pre-cum I could. My dear brother’s cock got harder and bigger. I had never deep-throated anyone before, but I wanted to feel his dick – my dick – deep in my mouth. I sucked him in more and more, tried to relax my throat muscles, and sucked harder. When my lips met his balls and I felt the head down my throat, I knew I had succeeded. And I felt the throbbing of a huge ejaculation begin. I pulled back a little so I wouldn’t gag, but I took every drop and swallowed it down. It was my cum that I swallowed. It was taking part of me back into myself. The thought itself almost made me come.

Most guys get drowsy after such a huge orgasm, but Bub was jazzed, just like I get after I come. “That was incredible Rosie, I have to show you how it felt.”

And just that quick, he was on my pussy, sucking and licking. He found the nub of my clit with ease, no fumbling around like a lot of men. He massaged it between his thumb and forefinger, while his tongue went straight for my hole. It was amazing. His fingers were doing a better job on my clit than mine did. And, if I could have licked my own pussy, I would have done just what he did. He sucked each of my pussy lips deep into his mouth, almost to the point of pain, but not quite. Then he dove his tongue into my hole, licking and probing, thrusting and parrying, driving and dancing. It didn’t take long and I came, and came.

It was like masturbation. You know where and how to touch yourself to get yourself off the best. But in this case, it wasn’t my hands touching me. And there was this tongue and this sucking. I came again. I think I screamed.

Bubbie raised his face from my pussy, glistening with my juices and grinned.

We said, at the same time, “I love you.” And we giggled. Then, very seriously, we gazed in each other’s eyes and said, at the same time, “I want to fuck you.”

I lay flat on my back, my little titties spreading out so it looked like I only had the incredibly erect nipples. I didn’t care. I pulled my knees to my chest then spread them wide apart, causing my pussy to spread wide open. Bubbie knelt before me, cock standing tall. I was in no mood to try to judge size, but his cock looked longer and thicker than any I had ever seen. It was my big cock and it needed to fill my hungry pussy. He leaned toward me, put the head of his cock just at the mouth of my pussy, pushed gently and it filled me. I had never had a dick fit inside me so perfectly as his did, It was as if our contours were complimentary.

“Look at us Rosie. Look at our coupling,” he demanded. And I did, as he held his huge cock buried to the hilt in my open pussy without moving. “Look at how beautiful we are together. See how your beautiful flower opens to accept my deep probing. We are one. It is so simple, but it is a miracle; me inside you, you taking me deep within you.” His gift of language, even at such an overwhelming moment, was impressive.

Very slowly, he pulled his cock out of me about half way, as we both watched in fascination, as if we had never seen such a thing before. Then he quickly slammed it back into me and I moaned.

I could never be a profound as he, especially with my knees up by my ears, but I had to speak my heart. His cock was deep within me, but we were still, just feeling the feelings. I took his face in my hands. I kissed his face gently.

“Bubbie, my Bubbie. To feel you like this, I don’t know whose parts are whose. Maybe it is my cock and your pussy, I don’t know. I just know that we are joined in a way we haven’t been since we were inside our mother. No other people could share in such a special way.” I looked down at his dick buried in me and I felt the ripple of an orgasm begin. It was a little one, but it came from just seeing us joined.

“This is such a special moment,” I whispered, “but, if you don’t start to fuck me really hard right now, I will go insane.”

It was as if he read my very thoughts, because he began to pound me hard at that moment. He would almost pull his dick all the way out, then slam it hard into me. He put his strong hands under my ass and raised me up to better line up with his pile-driving dick. He slammed in and out of me over and over. I could feel his hard shaft stabbing into me. I felt torn apart yet completely whole. I was one with my other half. Wave after wave of orgasm swept over me. There ceased to be a beginning or an end to them. Had I been with another man, I would have made him stop. It was almost too overwhelming. But, as I gazed past the beautiful face of my Bubbie to the amazing Eiffel Tower outside, I wanted to pounding to go on forever. He fucked me and fucked me and fucked me.

Finally, this amazing man, who was as much a part of me as the blood in my veins, jammed his dick up into me deep and stopped, shuddering as he exploded, delivering his essence deep inside me. I could feel the hot liquid fill me in long deep spurts. At that moment, if I could have taken his whole body into my pussy, I would have.

As it was, I pulled him to me and held him. I whispered into his ear. “Thank you for loving me, for being part of me, for giving yourself to me, for fucking me so perfectly.”

Dinner that night was in a comfortable family establishment. We held hands and kissed, typical behavior for a couple in Paris. They kiss on street corners there, which we did. No one would have noticed unless they looked closely and saw the amazing physical resemblance we share…

The rest of my stay was spent in continued sightseeing and visiting. But we started our days coupling, his manhood greeting my womanhood in the early morning, that beautiful, hard dick probing the depths of my open pussy. Sometimes we couldn’t get through the day without finding a quiet corner of a park to just plain fuck each other. And we ended each day exploring the myriad ways twins can become more united…

C’est la vie… of twins.