Twins in College

"Okay. Bye."

That was indeed odd to hear as I opened the door to the apartment. Rarely would anyone other than our parents call us, and that was usually on Sundays, but it was a Tuesday morning and I was returning with the bagels my big brother and Master wanted for breakfast.

"Who called?" I asked, closing and locking the door behind me.

"That was Mom. She wants to come see us."

"Oh? When?"

"Saturday."

That surprised me. Why would she want to come visit us all of a sudden... and especially on our moving day?

"Aunt Justine in Seattle is having surgery early Monday morning," my big brother explained. "So Mom thought she would come visit us on the way there, then fly up to see her sister and help out with the kids during and after the surgery."

"Oh." I went to the kitchen to prepare the bagels and start the coffee. But it still did not make much sense, especially since she knew that we would be moving on Saturday.

"She plans to fly in late Friday afternoon, get a hotel nearby, help us move Saturday morning, and then fly on to Seattle Saturday afternoon."

I felt as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. At least our mother would not be insisting on staying with us, thwarting our final night in the apartment which had been so good to us.

"Given that she's family, it'll be strange knowing she's in a hotel," my big brother said, "but it will at least allow us to truly enjoy our final night in this apartment."

I smiled to myself. Once again, the telepathic link between twins had manifested itself.

*****

Walking back from our mother's hotel, I felt something I had not expected: sadness. All of a sudden, it dawned on me that my big brother and I were about to leave the place which had provided us with so many memories, the place which had become more of a love shack than an apartment.

And, sadly, it was our final night.

But then, that gave me an idea.

"Go sit on the sofa," I suggested as we finally entered the apartment. "Please your loving slave to entertain you, Master."

"Sounds like a good idea," he replied with a smile. He pulled me close for a kiss, then released me so I could disappear into my bedroom and prepare.

I worked quickly: shedding my clothes, locating "Love Shack" on my hard drive and burning it to CD, retrieving my rarely-used vibrator and ensuring that the batteries were functional, and quickly putting on the black mesh crotchless teddy I had bought with the first paycheck from the video store.

When I returned to the living room, the lights were all off, with a trio of candles casting their glow. Although he had taken off his shoes, my Master leaned back on the sofa, smiling as he watched me, his eyes glittering as he noticed the vibrator in my hand.

I went to the CD player, which we had not yet boxed for the move, and put in the disc and set the playback for single-song auto-repeat. Then I set the vibrator on the floor and stood.

As "Love Shack" began to play, I began to dance. It had been a long time since I had done any vertical dancing, but I could tell from the smile and look of appreciation upon my Master's face that I had not lost any of my moves. While the choice of music was intentional, I was very quickly in a zone – the lyrics were a blur in my mind, as was the rhythm, for all I could sense was that, somehow, my movements were one with the music, my body essentially moving not of its own accord, but of the music's accord.

Only when I felt the vibrator rising into my dripping body did I realize that I was on my knees, apparently having fingered myself during the dance given how wet I was already between my thighs. I wailed as I penetrated myself with the rumbling, fake phallus, my vision clearing just enough through the haze of music and sex to spy my big brother truly enjoying my lewd display, his manhood standing tall and proud through the zipper of his jeans, his hand stroking firmly yet slowly, his lips parted, his eyes fixated upon the base of my sisterly torso.

I have no idea how many times "Love Shack" had played to that point. I only know that my body continued to move to the music as I used both hands to fuck myself with the rumbling vibrator. My voice drowned out the lyrics, my heartbeat took over for the rhythm, and I ultimately succumbed to a climax so powerful that my mouth opened wide in a voiceless scream and stars filled my clouded vision.

I may have passed out momentarily, for my next recollection was of being on my back, the forbidden phallus rutting into me, my big brother's growls filling my ears. The churning vibrator still held firmly in my hand, I wrapped my arms around his strong shoulders, my body meeting his every possessive thrust, my heart ready to burst forth from between my whiplashing breasts, my voice joining his in a primal duet unlike any we had sung before, and then my soul was battered with unending torrents of incestuous love, my ears filled with possessive proclamations, my body and my voice responding in kind.

It was deep, deep into the night when I finally awoke, still underneath my Master's body upon the floor, although he was unfortunately no longer inside me. He slept soundly upon me, still fully clothed, his manhood pressed against my right thigh. I was still officially "fully clothed" as well, but thanks to the crotchless nature of the teddy, I was well sated, my belly full of my domineering twin's desire for me.

For a moment, I thought back to our mother's revelation to me during our Spring Break visit. I thought as well about her advice to me just before my big brother and I had gone camping earlier in the summer. And for a few moments, I wondered what she would think if she knew of the way we had "celebrated" our final night in the apartment.

Only then did I realize that "Love Shack" was no longer playing. Looking around, I saw that none of the electronics – the TV, the DVD player, the VCR, the PlayStation2 console – seemed to be functioning. I could not hear the low hum of the refrigerator. Clearly, a power outage had befallen the neighborhood. That was likely the only reason we had fallen asleep, for the music otherwise would certainly have kept us awake despite the satisfied post-copulatory fatigue.

The sadness returned as I gently awoke my Master and twin and lover. Slowly, we made our way to our bedrooms to properly prepare for sleep, for Moving Day would begin with sunrise.

*****

Fortunately, our mother did not say anything about the scent of sex still lingering in the air when she arrived. Then again, I am certain that she took a hotel instead of insisting on staying with us overnight specifically so that my big brother and I could fully enjoy our final night in the apartment.

At 7:00AM, my big brother left to go get the rental truck. If all went according to plan, we could move everything in two trips, and have the rental truck back by 2:00PM at the latest. During the week, since we already had the keys to the house, we had taken over a few things here and there, reducing the amount of time required for the actual move itself.

To my surprise, our mother did not ask about the forbidden relationship. She simply helped to finish boxing various things and made small talk as we worked. She did leave us about Noon, however, so that she could take BART back to Oakland International Airport and continue on her way to Seattle, but by that time, we were very nearly done with the move, unloading the last of the boxes from the rental truck and stacking them in the living room of the house.

While my big brother returned the rental truck, I returned to the apartment, primarily to make one final check to assure myself that we had truly removed everything which belonged to us. Slowly, I opened every cupboard and door, looking for anything which we may have missed, but finding nothing.

Ultimately, I sat on the floor where the sofa had been, and I leaned back against the wall. The sadness washed over me once again. So many memories...

"Those," I recalled a real estate agent saying in a recent Century 21 commercial, "you get to take with you."

That brought a small smile to my face and lifted my heavy heart a bit. It seemed so strange to me that I had lived in this apartment for not quite a full calendar year, yet I felt such a strong, intimate connection with it.

I stood and made my way to the narrow balcony for the final time, enjoying the cool breeze. A few moments later, I glanced down at the sidewalk to see my big brother approaching the building, his eyes clearly upon me. Yet even in my consuming sadness, I still felt a little "guilty" that I was not wearing a skirt to give him a peek at my thong, and that "guilt" made me smile and oddly lifted my spirits.

I met my big brother as he entered the apartment. Nothing was said as we simply held each other for a long, long time, each of us thinking back on the memories we had made and shared here. It was only when his stomach growled a little loudly that we knew our time in the apartment was done.

Our neighbor Valerie was gone on two weeks of vacation visiting family and friends; she and I had said goodbye before her departure. So there was no reason to linger in the apartment, in the building. Reluctantly stepping from my big brother's arms, I gave the barren living room one final look, then moved toward the door.

"Wait." He moved around me and opened the door, then turned to me and, to my surprise, picked me up in his strong arms. When we had been alone for the first time when we moved in, he had carried me into the apartment as my big brother and my forbidden lover. Now, he was carrying me out of the apartment as my big brother and my forbidden lover and my caring Master.

Then he set me down, and closed and locked the door with sounds of finality.

*****

Following lunch at a nearby Subway, we returned to the house. We stood on the sidewalk for a few moments, simply admiring it, simply wondering what memories would be created within its walls.

"It's not the same as the apartment," I said softly, still feeling a twinge of sadness from "losing" our former dwelling.

"No, it isn't," my big brother agreed. "Actually, it's better."

Slowly, we made our way up the few steps to the porch, and then he opened the door. This time, my big brother, my forbidden lover, and my Master carried me inside. He set me down and closed the door before kissing me, his hands cradling my face, and, somehow, the sadness I had been carrying within me evaporated like the morning dew, allowing me to respond to him in kind, allowing me to once again assume my subservient role as his hands and his tongue began to possess me, consume me.

Contrary to our plans for the afternoon, no unpacking was done. On the floor of the short entry corridor, we loved each other for several hours instead, repeatedly bringing each other to the brink of ecstasy and denying each other that exquisite pleasure until, finally, a sweet orgasm overtook me, my teeth sinking into his shoulders as I bucked violently from the force of the many turbulent tsunamis surging through my trembling body. Shortly afterward, his warm, gooey love was splattered across my face and in my hair, his body shuddering powerfully as I stroked every last drop of his desire from him.

And there I lay, trembling from the aftershocks of our lovemaking, until it was time for me to get ready for my usual Saturday night closing shift at the video store. It was a very interesting memory of the first hours spent in our new house, our true "love shack."

*****

It was well after midnight when my big brother escorted me from the video store to the house. To my surprise, there were still people in the park across the street, and they appeared to be playing a card game at one of the picnic tables. The neighborhood itself was relatively quiet – some soft music coming from an open window of a nearby house, and a college-age guy riding by on bike. The serenity was nice, although I knew that once classes began again at the universities and the colleges in the Bay Area, the neighborhood would no longer be as quiet.

Once in the house, there were fewer boxes to be found. While I had been at work, my big brother had set up the television, VCR, DVD player, and gaming console. ("I took a break and did some racing at Road America," he admitted later, although he did not say which game he had played to race at Road America.) The refrigerator had a little more food in it, so he had gone to an area convenience store as well and bought a few items. The curtains we had bought were all hung, which I was certain had not been too easy to do by himself.

I yawned, fatigued from the move and from the job. "Want to go to bed now and deal with the rest of this stuff in the morning?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied, "and it already is morning."

"Okay," he replied, "but you're not going to bed per se."

That was the signal which transitioned us from a brother/sister relationship to a Master/slave relationship, and that transition caused my mind to awaken. "What did you have in mind?"

"You'll see," he replied with narrowed eyes and a small grin.

He was right. I did not go to bed that night.

Instead, I was ordered to drag one of the futon mattresses down to the basement playroom. That did not surprise me much, as I had suspected that we would spend our first night sleeping in our playroom. What definitely did surprise me, however, was that the mattress was for my Master alone.

I was not even permitted to sleep on the floor. Instead, I was backed against a wall, new leather cuffs added to my wrists, and secured by short ropes to nearby bolts in the wall. The addition of a blindfold made my naked body suddenly feel exposed. I felt extremely vulnerable when I heard my Master part the curtains on the playroom windows, even though the lights had by then been turned off and it would have been virtually impossible for anyone outside to see me.

I did not sleep much on our first night in the house. However, despite my fatigue when I was released at daybreak and permitted to sleep upon the mattress while my Master lovingly massaged my backside with my favorite herbal oil, I would not have had it any other way.

For the first time, the house truly felt like a home.