Twins in College

The video store where I worked kept a stock of adult films. These were typically releases from the past six months, after which time the owner would list them on eBay at a reduced price. Many of them, she said, would sell on the first listing; the others would typically be won on the second listing. It was a concept which intrigued me.

Another concept which intrigued me was simply renting an adult film. Certainly, the store had its regular customers who preferred adult films to the more mainstream fare. Many of them would blush a little as they handed the selected titles to me or one of my co-workers. Some would specifically wait until there was no line at the counter before they even attempted to approach the register. A few acted rather nonchalantly, as if they were renting a Barney title for their pre-school kids or relatives. And there were a few who always hit on the female staff when they paid for the rental.

I had no problem whatsoever with going behind the curtain to restock the shelves in the adult section. It amazed me at first just how many types of fetishes there are... and the adult industry has a plethora of titles for each one. From "straight sex" to bisexual to gay to lesbian to legs to big busts to hentai to interracial to shemales to Asians to bondage to lolitas to gangbangs to bukkake to... In short, just one trip to the adult section to restock the shelves was a lesson in itself.

...a lesson my parents would be shocked to know I had had, voluntarily.

Ever since I had begun working at the video store, I had wanted to rent an adult title – partially just to say I had done it, but partially to watch one with my big brother. But I did not want my co-workers or the owner to know that I was renting something as "scandalous" as an adult film.

I finally had my chance.

To cover for a co-worker when her mother was visiting, several of us traded parts of our schedules for parts of hers. At first, I simply added a Friday closing shift to my work schedule, with the agreement that she would take one of my Saturday close shifts later. But eventually, I ended up swapping shifts with another co-worker, so my weekend schedule consisted of a Friday close shift followed by a Saturday opening shift, with Saturday night off.

That was my chance.

After closing Friday night, Joyna and I had nearly finished cleaning when her uncle knocked at the back door. I told Joyna to go, as I only had to finish vacuuming the adult section anyhow, and I knew that she was never truly comfortable in that part of the store.

Just as Joyna and her uncle were leaving, my big brother arrived. Of course, I invited him into the store, and locked the back door behind him. Together, we went to the adult section, closing the curtain behind us.

Immediately, we kissed and hugged. Several minutes must have passed, but it seemed like only several seconds.

"I need to finish vacuuming," I told him. "But I have an idea. Why don't you pick out something for us to watch tonight," I said with a wink and a smile, "and I'll bring it back with me for the opening shift tomorrow and check it back in before anyone notices."

"It already is tomorrow," he replied, "but sure."

I resumed vacuuming, smiling to myself. I wondered what my forbidden lover would select. My first thought was that he would choose a lesbian title. Then I thought of his comments once about some bukkake clips he had found online and played for me. Then I remembered our conversation about hentai and tentacle rape, and I was almost certain that he would select a hentai title.

I finished and put the vacuum back in its place in the closet behind the counter, then returned to the adult section. "How about this one?" my big brother asked. "It's a selection of amateur-made bondage videos, and from the screenshots, some of it looks rather intense."

As I reached him, I took the box from his hands and looked over the description and the images. It seemed that every dominant was male and every submissive was female.

"Sounds good to me," I said. "Good choice." I kissed his cheek, then turned to go check this out.

However, I was suddenly grabbed by the breasts and pulled back into my big brother's chest. "Of course," he whispered, "we could also just spend the night right here doing adult things amongst the adult titles."

I giggled at that thought – appealing as it was – and squirmed my way out of his grasp. "Perhaps another time," I said.

The walk home seemed much longer than usual because of my desire to watch this with my big brother. But eventually, he sat on the sofa while I sat in his lap. The only light came from the TV screen as he picked up the remote to start the DVD.

Whoever was responsible for creating this DVD had done things "properly," disabling the option to skip the FBI warning and the sex-line commercials. So we used this time to kiss and fondle. Already, I could feel the familiar manhood solidifying and lengthening against me, just as I was certain my forbidden lover could feel my nipples trying to poke holes in the cups of my bra.

At last, the main menu appeared. Removing a hand from inside my thong, he picked up the remote again and pressed Play.

The discovery of adult films was about to begin. I was about to voluntarily have another lesson which would truly shock our parents.

The first scene was rather loving and romantic in a way. A tall, muscular man in swim trunks grabbed a coil of red rope from a shed and stepped back outside into the daylight. The camera followed him as he approached the house, and a tall woman – practically an Amazonian goddess – emerged from the back door dressed as a bride, her arms behind her.

That was unexpected, especially for an amateur scene. She had not been shown in the screenshots on the box cover.

The bride descended the steps from the porch and stood in the grass, her cuffed wrists finally coming into view as her arms were lifted. The camera focused on the man's handiwork as he slowly and carefully performed breast bondage on her. The red of the rope contracted sharply with the white of the wedding dress, and the red color clearly enhanced the swells of her breasts in a way that even I found appealing. Then he fondled her chest for a few minutes, occasionally kissing her as she kept her hands behind her.

At last, he lowered her veil, took her by the hand, and led her away from the house. There was a trail near the house, leading into a thick region of trees, and he led her along the trail, the camera following them diligently with nary a cut.

Just as the walk through the trees was becoming boring, I could hear the sound of flowing water. At first, I thought it would simply be a stream or small river nearby, but the sound kept increasing in volume. At last, the couple emerged into a clearing, and ahead of them was a waterfall spilling into a small lake before flowing off-screen to the right.

The dominant led the submissive straight into the lake, even though she was wearing heels. I found that unbelievable, almost as insane as Timmy's mother in the old Lassie series wearing heels on a farm! Yet he slowed their pace, allowing her the time she needed to assure herself of steady footsteps.

The cameraperson remained on the shore, but zoomed in on the couple as they made their way toward the waterfall. The sound of the falling liquid was fairly loud even at this distance, attesting to the powerful technology used in the microphone of the camera.

Once at the waterfall, the bride was turned around, the water tumbling behind her. She raised her arms, and with his hands upon her chest, the dominant eased her backward. She shrieked initially as the water descended her back, its temperature apparently rather cool. Once she was pressed against the rock behind the waterfall, he reached into the pouring stream, seemed to search with his hand for something, and pulled out a chain with a clip at its end, surprising me again. The clip was attached to the ring of a cuff, then the same process was repeated to secure her other wrist to the cliff.

The dominant walked away, leaving her there, bound to the cliff under a torrent of falling water. The camera focused upon her as she stood in water up to her waist. The unblinking eye roamed her body, objectifying her with a stereotypical masculine gaze, yet I was fascinated by the ropework and how it was used to enhance the now-wet look of her covered breasts.

In time, the dominant returned, a long, thin stick in his hand. I was curious as to why he was carrying a big stick until he stood to the bride's side and held the stick directly in front of her chest.

Vicariously, I "felt" every strike of the stick. It was as if the bride's breasts were being punished simply because she was conceived and born as a female. More than at any other time in my young life to date, I was conspicuously aware of my own breasts, and not just because my big brother was squeezing them as the bride's breasts were being beaten.

She wriggled and squirmed at first, but apparently the pain of the beating became too much for her, for she eventually was pulling furiously against the chains and screaming with each strike. Above the sound of the waterfall, I could hear her sobs, yet the man did not relent.

At last, he cast the stick aside, lifted the veil, and kissed her madly. His hands groped her, possessed her as if she were simply a coveted, idolized object.

Damn, I was wet!!!

Eventually, the bride was released, and carefully led back to the shore with the veil lifted, showing how badly her makeup had run from her crying and from the waterfall. Once on shore, the camera watched closely as the red rope was slowly unknotted and removed. I was somewhat horrified at the condition of her heels, now almost certainly ruined. The wedding dress might have been salvageable, but would certainly take a fair amount of effort to restore.

The dominant coiled the rope and held it in one hand. Using his other hand to pull the bride to him, he kissed her one more time, then took her hand and led her back up the trail as the screen faded to black.

"Wow, that was hot!" my big brother commented, his throbbing erection pressed against my leg. "I loved the way she screamed."

I was too lost in thought to comment, but my thoughts were disrupted by the next scene. A short blonde woman was blindfolded and naked, tied with scarves to the bedposts. Countless canned candles lined the top of the dresser in the background of the shot while the camera remained stationary. A man dressed in entirely black, including a black ski mask and painfully-dark sunglasses, moved between dresser and bed, unceremoniously dumping the hot contents of each can onto her body. She hissed and squirmed each time, but never complained, even when he dumped the melted wax upon her unprotected sex. I had to admit that the way she moved was enticing, as were the sounds escaping her lips.

Between the on-screen action and the in-person action of my big brother's fingers plunging repeatedly into me, the crotch of my thong was thoroughly drenched. I was horny, and I needed more than just fingers inside me.

I do not recall the next few lengthy scenes, as I was on my back on the floor as my big brother made love to me. I remember the screams and the sound of chains rattling, and a few spoken commands, but my attention was focused almost totally upon person upon and inside me, the one person whose every command I would obey even if it meant degradation or pain for me.

I was definitely quite tired in the morning when I returned to the video store. I was the first one there, as planned, so I immediately checked in the DVD and placed it back upon the shelf. Only then did I go to the drop box near the front door to pick up the films customers had left for us while we were closed.

I was just checking in the last of the returned films when Sara arrived at the back door. She looked at me a little strangely when we greeted each other, but did not say anything else. I could only wonder:

Did I have "I watch adult films" tattooed to my forehead?

But I had to wonder if I was any different from our other customers who rented the adult titles. After all, I had not seen even one-quarter of the DVD. If I had only seen one-quarter of a major Hollywood film, I would have been a little peeved. But in this case, I still felt strangely satisfied.

...in more ways than one.