Twins in College

Depending on our whims, sometimes my big brother and I would sleep in his bed, sometimes in my bed. If one of us went to bed before the other, we would use the bedroom of the one who went to sleep first. But regardless of whose bed we had shared during the night, it was always thrilling to awaken in the morning in my forbidden lover's presence – typically, in his protective arms.

This was especially true one particular Saturday morning. We had gone to bed together well after midnight, after watching all three

Sailor Moon

films consecutively. That night, having drifted to sleep in my big brother's arms, my dream had been full of images of us dressed as Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Kamen, as we had been once at an anime convention a few years earlier. But in the dream, we were high atop a Tokyo skyscraper, looking out across the neon night at Tokyo Tower in the distance as he stood behind me, fondling me with exponentially-growing lust as I braced myself against the tall fence at the edge of the roof...

Awakening in the morning, I found myself once again in my big brother's protective arms, my naked body pressed snugly against him underneath his Escher-style bedspread. The remnants of my dream not having truly been dispelled by full consciousness, I felt as if I was being kissed on the forehead by Tuxedo Kamen himself, even though part of my mind realized that it was my real lover's real kiss upon my real forehead that was stirring such real warmth in my real belly.

It was in those awkward, disorienting, hazy moments, caught in that fuzzy mist between dream and consciousness, that I decided that we should again dress as Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Kamen for Halloween.

*****

Fortunately, we had decided to keep the Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Kamen costumes after the anime convention, and our parents found them in the attic and shipped them to us. I was studying in my bedroom late one afternoon when my big brother returned to the apartment with an announcement: "They've arrived!"

I abandoned my homework in my bedroom and found my big brother standing at the table in the living room, about to delve into the box with a pocketknife. Moments later, he pulled out my Sailor Moon costume from nearly two years earlier, and a sense of pride filled my chest, for I had made the costume almost entirely by hand.

I knew that some alterations would be needed for both costumes. I had actually grown an inch in height and filled out a little more around the chest and hips in those two years, and he had grown nearly two inches in both height and waist. Clearly, I would have some work to do on the costumes, but I was actually looking forward to the task.

While I worked on the alterations to the costumes, my big brother took it upon himself to scour our collection of anime music for a good mix of

Sailor Moon

music he could burn onto a CD so it would play on constant loop during the three hours the neighborhood kids would be in the building for the typical Halloween trick-or-treating. It was so good to hear the music again – songs from the series and the films, background music, karaoke versions of my favorite songs, and even some one-liners from both the Japanese and English versions of the series and films that he had stored on his laptop. But he still was not done, for once he had selected the music and one-liners and sound effects for the CD, he then spent several hours on a Sunday afternoon essentially blending them all together into a nonstop aural

Sailor Moon

orgy.

*****

At last, Sunday October 30 was upon us. Halloween itself had arrived.

The anime posters on the walls had been rearranged so that the

Sailor Moon

posters were easily visible from the doorway. The special CD my big brother had spent so much time creating was playing, loud enough to be heard from the doorway yet quiet enough to not intrude in any conversations. Although the volume was off, one of my favorite

Sailor Moon

episodes – the one where Usagi and Ami meet Rei – was playing on the TV screen via continual-repeat VideoCD playback on the DVD player. A recently-purchased life-size plushy Luna toy was perched upon a sofa arm, also in easy sight of the doorway. Thanks to eBay, two new, unused decks of

Sailor Moon

playing cards waited atop the small bookcase by the door. And I was already dressed as Sailor Moon, standing at the kitchen counter, pouring bags of Tootsie Rolls into a large bowl and trying to maintain my willpower (so unlike Usagi!) so that I would not devour the candies before the neighborhood children arrived.

He finally stepped into the tiny kitchen. The Tootsie Rolls bags now empty, I simply gazed upon him fondly for a few moments as I felt his eyes tracking all over my body. My Tuxedo Kamen looked wonderful, even better than the animated version I knew so well. I only hoped that I portrayed Sailor Moon with equal effectiveness and allure.

Then my big brother stepped forward, took me in his arms, and kissed my lips with the same tender, heartfelt affection with which Tuxedo Kamen kisses Sailor Moon, with a gentleness that heralded love and respect yet with an awesome power that vacuumed the breath from my lungs.

We stood together in the kitchen for several minutes, kissing and hugging and caressing each other. I could feel the hardening within his slacks, and I was certain that he could feel the hardening points upon my chest. Yet, we kept our actions clean.

After all,

Sailor Moon

was clearly intended as a "family show."

At last, I reluctantly stepped away. "It's nearly time," I said – more as a breathless explanation to myself than to him – and took the candy-filled bowl to the bookcase. Then, as is the tenants' custom for the Halloween visitors, I opened the door and retreated back inside to my Tuxedo Kamen. The music playing at that moment from the specially-created CD was a karaoke version of "Moonlight Destiny," and we danced together in full view of anyone who might stroll past our open door, our eyes locked in the silent communication of longtime lovers.

Just before the beautiful song ended, I heard the voices of several young children downstairs. Reluctantly, we separated, and made our way to the open door. Within minutes, the first group of a steady stream of children of all ages arrived at our door. We had our distinct roles: I gave small handfuls of Tootsie Rolls to the costumed children (and also to the older, costumed "children") and greeted them all in my very limited Japanese, while my Tuxedo Kamen continually shuffled the playing cards and gave one card to each costumed visitor.

A few of the more anime-knowledgeable parents and older "children" seemed to particularly appreciate the gesture of the playing cards. Upon hearing the music and seeing the

Sailor Moon

posters, several people asked to step inside and look around, and seemed quite satisfied with the

Sailor Moon

theme we had established; these were almost certainly otaku, in the American sense of the term.

Throughout the afternoon, we were visited by wizards and princesses, goblins and athletes, Stormtroopers and mice, dogs and vampires, presidents and scientists, and the requisite countless Disney characters. And, of course, there were a few other anime characters who appeared at our door, including Lupin, San and Ashitaka, a very convincing Armitage, and – quite to my surprise – the real Mimarin. By the time the parade of trick-or-treaters ended, I had successfully given away almost all of the Tootsie Rolls, and my big brother only had three

Sailor Moon

playing cards remaining: two Jokers (one with Tuxedo Kamen and one with Sailor Moon) and an Eight of Hearts (with the Inner Senshi in their schoolgirl personas).

I closed the door at last, shutting out the world, and turned to see my sweet lover looking at the three playing cards remaining, and an idea formed in my mind. As the smile spread across my lips, he looked up at me, his eyes narrowing as my smile was mirrored upon his face. Once again, the fact that my big brother and I are twins was demonstrated by our similar thoughts.

A few minutes later, the curtains closed, we sat at the table as I dealt us Poker hands using my personal, well-worn

Sailor Moon

playing cards, the very same set my big brother had given me as a birthday present several years earlier. I had lost track of the number of times we had played Rummy or Poker or especially Euchre together, almost always using these very same cards. I was quite certain that I would end up losing the match, as I seemed to never be lucky when playing Poker (not even against a computer), but I never minded being partially or completely naked in my twin's presence.

Simply the anticipation of losing to him yet again caused my panties to dampen.

As "Moon Revenge" played in the background, I contemplated my opening hand. Minutes later, I was removing my shoes per my big brother's request, as he had won the first round.

Luck was not usually on my side when playing Poker, but this time seemed to be different. Instead of losing roughly 80% of the hands, I was actually winning about one of every two hands. It actually appeared that I might still have some "dignity" remaining while my big brother sat naked before me. I was not at all certain if I should hope to win the match or hope to lose instead, but no matter the outcome, I knew that it would be worthwhile.

Ultimately, we were equally vulnerable: My beautiful big brother sat wearing just his black briefs, while I sat wearing only my white panties. I looked at my hand and was sorely disappointed: With the particular array of cards in my hand, I felt that I had absolutely no chance of winning the round and thus the match, even if I did exchange the permitted maximum of three cards. A quick glance at my twin revealed that he felt the same. Thus the question: Were his cards actually worse than mine?

We both sat and stared at our cards for several minutes, occasionally glancing at each other only semi-discreetly... and I noticed with pride that his glances tended to linger on my exposed chest. Finally, we each discarded three cards, and he dealt three new cards to each of us. As I reviewed the possibilities, I realized that I was about to lose the match, and sighed in resignation.

So much for a rare win.

At last, we set down our hands. I set mine down first: a pair of sixes, with a nine, a four, and a two.

He then set his down: a pair of sixes, with a nine, a four, and a two.

How appropriate for fraternal twins to end up with near-identical hands. The only differences were the suits and their related colors... and the

Sailor Moon

image on each card.

We both had a good long laugh at the situation. Only in a Hollywood film – or perhaps a really good story – should such a situation have occurred.

Once the laughter subsided, we began to wonder aloud: Was this effectively a draw, or did we both just lose (or win) simultaneously? Neither of us were Poker experts, so after some considerable debate, we agreed it was only fair that we both finish disrobing together.

But then an idea came to my mind, and I rose from my chair and approached my forbidden lover and knelt before him. With his help, I removed his final article of clothing, then spent a moment savoring the sight of his solid erection, my mouth watering in anticipation. But just as I was about to consume the meaty phallus, he grabbed my head and held me back, much to my extreme disappointment. "Not quite yet," he threatened, naughtiness clearly evident in his voice and a gleam in his eyes as he looked down upon me.

"Stand." I complied, my fingers interlaced behind me, my chest thrust out just a little more than is usual for a standing posture to give my big brother quite an eyeful of his admitted favorite parts of my anatomy. But instead of pulling me close and sucking a nipple or pawing my breasts as I had expected, he slipped out of his chair and knelt before me, sniffing at the damp crotch of my "innocent white" panties – such a counterpoint to my current activities – before carefully slipping them down my legs to the floor. I stepped out of them, and he held the no-longer-innocent garment to his nose for a moment before tossing it aside, looking up at me with a wicked grin.

"Come," he said, standing and reaching for my hand. "I hope to," I quipped, causing us both to laugh quietly as I was led to my bedroom. When he stretched out upon his back on my Totoro bedspread, I knelt between his legs and bent forward, my knees tucked tightly against my chest.

The meaty shaft stood proudly before me, and I licked my lips before flicking the bulbous tip. The clear fluid at the tip was sweet, a testament to the sugary diet he had been enjoying since we had started our college careers. My fingers surrounding the base, my tongue flicked lightly up and down the hearty shaft, my eyes looking up the wonderful male body toward my forbidden lover's face, noting his closed eyes and parted lips as my tongue bathed him.

"My dearest big brother," I whispered, then I engulfed the bulbous tip with my mouth. He whimpered quietly as I initially took him into my mouth, descending just a little, raising my head, then descending just a little lower, raising my head, then descending just a little lower still. My tongue continued to tease him, my fingers gently massaging that portion of his tasty phallus which was not (yet) being ingested.

"You naughty, naughty girl," I heard him whisper. I smiled in response, giggling around him and causing him to gasp as his hands reached for my head. Although he has almost always been quite gentle with me in every way, I somewhat expected that he would take control of my head, slamming my face into his groin so he could climax rapidly and fill my stomach with his forbidden love, and in a way, that is exactly what I wanted. Instead, he brushed the hair away from my face and guided me into a gentle, steady rhythm, a rhythm which I instantly recognized as one which would provide him with lasting pleasure while not being enough to force him to feed me.

After some time, however, my jaw began to ache from being held in an open position for such a long time. Lifting my head from my lover's cautious grasp, I resorted to simply kissing and fondling his throbbing manhood, massaging my own saliva into the taut skin. He sighed happily, caressing my forearms, whispering naughty things to me and making my lips curl into a wicked smile.

From simply pleasuring my big brother, my body was practically crying to be filled via another entrance. With one more kiss to the tip of his beautiful erection, I rose up to my hands and knees and slowly crawled up his body, keeping my torso low and my breasts brushing along his skin, my nipples hardening even more and practically becoming inflamed by the direct contact with his heated skin. Like a heat-seeking missile fixed upon its target, his eyes were locked with mine, his hands gliding across my skin as I drew ever closer to his face.

We kissed at last: a long, slow, respectful kiss. My hands held his head in place, my fingers gently scratching his scalp, while his hands roamed my body, his fingers ultimately curling inward to scratch my fleshy backside. His fingers worked their way lower, seeking out my moist entrance and slipping inside, probing gently, carefully prying me open in a much more intimate and fulfilling way than any speculum ever could, prompting me to whimper around his exploring tongue and into his mouth.

His hand retreated, and I whimpered into his mouth again, this time with a definite tone of disappointment. But I whimpered happily moments later, his hand having assumed a new position between us as he lovingly stroked my lower lips once again. I reveled in his touch as he again slipped a pair of fingers inside me, my clitoris resting nicely upon his hand as he masturbated me.

Slowly, I rocked against the manipulating hand. My breasts pressed tightly to my big brother's chest, I could feel his heartbeat synchronizing with mine. I moved my face to his neck, beginning to pant as my passion began to spiral skyward, my breath hot in my face as it was reflected back to me by his skin. His free hand nestled in the small of my back, essentially anchoring me to him as his masturbation of my sex and the movement of my body against his hand conspired to overwhelm my senses if this continued for any length of time.

This definitely continued. My hands upon his shoulders, my whimpers became moans became soft cries as I moved with increasing need upon my big brother's penetrating hand. He was also breathing somewhat loudly as the plunging of his fingers attempted to match the pace of my body's movements against his wonderful hand.

The bed squealed in protest. My heartbeat seemed loud in my ears. The sloshing sounds of the violation of my body only added to the forbidden beauty of the moment. I moved upon this perfect lover with more force, more urgency, more desire, and between his labored breaths, I heard him whisper words of romantic naughtiness into my ear. I replied by clutching his head with the desperation of a drowning swimmer in a turbulent sea, calling not for rescue, but for more.

He delivered. His fingers moved even faster inside me, a third finger joining the two already tantalizing my weeping womanhood.

That was apparently the key, for the passion within me was suddenly unlocked, torrents of love gushing around him, pouring upon him as my body trembled with the violence of an earthquake, beautiful multicolored fireworks exploding against the dark sky inside my eyelids, my own voice nearly overpowering the thundering sound of my heartbeat in my ears. His manipulations never ceased, and, with barely a respite, the intensity of the experience doubled as a second, equally-enthralling orgasm battered my body, suffocating me with its power, and leaving me breathless as every cell vibrated with energy.

We were two sweat-covered lovers, our lungs fighting for more air, our hands clutching each other tightly. We were one, sharing the same thoughts, the same love, in a way that only the closest of twins could ever know.

It took some time for me to truly calm following the sexual storm, and I realized that while I had just enjoyed a wonderful pair of orgasms, my big brother had not yet reached his own release. Slowly, I slid off him, an idea in my mind. He looked up at me questioningly, but I simply gestured for him to remain on the bed, then I slipped out of my bedroom.

When I returned, the expression upon his face was priceless. I had again donned the Sailor Moon costume, although this time I was not wearing any undergarments, nor socks or shoes. His eyes grew big with surprise, then narrowed as the implications of my dress took root in his mind.

"So much for

Sailor Moon

being a 'family show,'" he mused aloud, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

"'Family show' this!" I teased with a wicked grin as I roughly squeezed my breasts, watching his smile widen at my sudden action.

A new idea seized me, and I gestured for him to remain on the bed, then slipped out of the bedroom again. When I returned, I brought his Tuxedo Kamen hat and cape. Once he was wearing both, I knelt between his spread legs and looked up at him with another wicked grin, my hands upon his thighs.

"I suppose we are about to enact those parts of Sailor Moon's and Tuxedo Kamen's displays of love that ended up on the cutting room floor?" my big brother commented, reaching down to caress my cheek and brush some stray strands of hair away from my face.

I did not bother to comment. Instead, my head dipped toward his lengthening hardness, and I ingested him once again. After a few moments, I released the fleshy sword from my mouth and looked up at his beautiful face again. "Use me," I pleaded softly with a wink, then took a deep breath and dipped my head to ingest the meaty phallus once more.