Twins in College

It was about 8:45PM when the Muni bus finally arrived. Being a Friday night, the bus was truly packed, and only by extreme good fortune did we find a lone empty seat, an aisle seat near the back of the bus. Like the loving gentleman he truly was at heart, my big brother and Master graciously offered to let me sit, but I had another idea.

"That's okay," I said. "I'll just sit in your lap."

With a slight nod, he smiled - not with his lips, but with his eyes. I instantly responded in kind.

I sat in my big brother's lap as the bus began to move, and he immediately wrapped both arms around my middle. The conversations around us suddenly became much softer in overall volume. The old man sitting between us and the window stopped reading his book, glancing from me to my big brother repeatedly, an unreadable expression upon his face. A group of teenage girls openly gawked at us, especially at me. I heard someone behind me muttering something under his breath. Yet my big brother leaned back in his seat nonchalantly and closed his eyes as I absently watched the San Francisco night life passing by as the bus rolled on through the gathering night.

I had to wonder: Did we ooze incest? Was it really so obvious to the other passengers that my big brother and I were truly in love? Was it somehow evident that we had made love on nearly a daily basis for well more than a year? Could everyone else somehow recognize that my big brother was also my Master, dominating me and commanding me and sometimes even hurting me for his pleasure while I gladly endured it all?

As these and other similar thoughts passed through my mind, I could feel my nipples hardening. My bra seemed to become rather snug as it supported my breasts. Suddenly, I wanted the soft cups to be replaced by a specific pair of masculine hands: warm, loving hands which both supported my subtly-swaying flesh and gently kneaded them like two balls of dough.

At the same time, I glanced back at my big brother and Master as he opened his eyes and gazed briefly at me, smiling subtly. I could feel a lengthening, a hardening, within his jeans.

Was it the close proximity which was arousing us both? Was it the fact that we were in such close proximity in public which we both clearly found arousing? Were we both "closet exhibitionists" at heart?

That last question made me want to suddenly stand up, turn to face my big brother, unzip his jeans, produce his wonderful manhood, and give him the best fellatio of my young life to date, not stopping until he erupted in my mouth with a raucous roar. As I envisioned it, feeling my thong dampening and my nipples tightening even more, I so desperately wanted to do it, even though I knew that we would certainly be arrested.

Yet, in my mind, the public scene definitely did not end with my Master's surging climax. Instead, I would be ordered across his lap, my head in the crotch of the stunned old man sitting next to him as my skirt was lifted, my wet thong lowered, and my bare cheeks spanked long and hard and mercilessly as I kicked and struggled and cried out with each delicious strike of my Master's bare hand.

Only when I felt my big brother's arm stiffen around my middle did I realize that I had been rocking gently in his lap, my motion encouraging his arousal. I noticed that his breathing had changed subtly, in a very good way - only someone who truly knew him so intimately would know that such a change signaled his arousal, his hardening need.

At last, our stop was announced, and I reached behind the old man's head to pull the cord to signal the driver to stop. Yet my mind did not stop, for after the spanking, I envisioned my Master furiously fingering my sisterly body, not even slowing down until I screamed of my love for him... directly into the old man's crotch.

When the bus finally stopped moving, I stood quickly and pressed my way through the throng of passengers, stepping onto an equally-crowded street. A heartbeat later, my big brother was standing beside me, reaching for my hand so he could lead me through the masses to the nearby BART station. In the bustling crowd, we were no longer big brother and baby sister, we were no longer Master and slave, we were not even illicit lovers - instead, we were simply two people hurrying along while trying to navigate the river of people, much like two salmon swimming upstream to spawn.

We made it to the BART platform just as a train was entering the station. Mixing with the crowd, we hurried onto the train, and I was pulled along from car to car until we arrived at last at my Master's intended destination: the last row of the last car.

There were only eight other couples in the car, all scattered about, and none of the couples were paying any attention to any of the others. So no one noticed my big brother's smile as we sat and my hand immediately went to the front of his jeans, reigniting his arousal.

"Nnngh!" I heard from one of the young women elsewhere in the car. Clearly, her significant other was doing something particularly naughty to her. Clearly, she was not at all ashamed to let everyone around her know that her significant other was doing something particularly naughty to her. I saw a few heads turn in her direction briefly, and noticed a guy smiling appreciatively.

I was rather horny myself, and I sincerely wished that my significant other was doing something particularly naughty to me at that very moment. But he contented himself with placing a hand underneath my skirt and gently scratching my inner thigh.

It may have contented him, but it further aroused me, promising something which, given our rather close resemblance, he really could not (safely) deliver at that very moment.

...but that did not stop my imagination from again leaping into fifth gear, picturing my Master sliding his fingers over the crotch of my dampened thong, pressing the thin garment into my weeping womanhood, not allowing me to reciprocate and slapping my hand away whenever I attempted to touch him, frustrating me even as he teased me to the point where I could finally no longer hold back my spiraling need and moaned aloud as his fingernail brushed my clitoris in just the right way...

Our stop was finally announced. Reluctantly, my Master withdrew his hand, and I retracted mine. We shared a knowing glance and a sly smile, then he stood and gestured for me to walk in front of him.

...presumably, I suppose, so that my body would shield the other passengers from seeing the bulge at the front of his jeans.

We were back on street level in Berkeley when I finally had an opportunity to glance at my Master's crotch once again, and I could see no obvious evidence of an erection, no obvious evidence that he was lusting after his baby sister and lover and slave.

The air had become cooler, and in a way I wished that I had not worn a skirt, especially because the cool air chilled the drops of passion trickling down the inside of my left thigh. But I also relished the thin trail of desire descending my leg, as it was a nice, tangible reminder of what I had thus far imagined.

As we passed by our former dwelling, I thought I could very faintly hear Valerie's sweet voice crying out in ecstatic bliss. Her bedroom light was on, but I could not see any shadows against the closed yellow curtains, so I could not tell if she was enjoying some solo fun or if there was someone else present to inflict pleasure upon her.

That made me wonder, in the back of my mind: Would my Master want to inflict pleasure or perhaps pain upon me when we returned to our cozy home?

I was not sure which I wanted more. I was horny, so pleasure definitely sounded like a wonderful idea. Yet I had not been hurt in several days - not even a playful spanking. I also had not been restrained in any manner in nearly a full week.

Once inside the house with the door closed and locked behind us, my Master grabbed my shoulders, turned me to face him, and pushed me to the floor in a not-so-gentle manner. I knelt immediately, my hands reaching for the zipper of his jeans even before I hissed through clenched teeth at the jarring impact of my knees upon the floor.

In no time at all, a particular erection was trying to force its way down my throat as a pair of hands held my head in place. No other word could possibly describe it: In the dark entry corridor, my mouth was raped, and my body was dripping because of it and everything else that evening leading up to that very rape. It was a bit scary, much like enduring a severe flogging while being restrained and unable to flee, yet it felt good to relinquish the control of my body for my Master's use and pleasure, even if it was difficult to breathe and my lungs were starting to protest the lack of oxygen.

Suddenly, I was shoved backward, my mouth and throat finally unobstructed. As I gulped air as rapidly as possible, I watched avidly as my Master walked past me into the living room, his male anatomy bobbing before him like a symphonic conductor's wand. "Crawl and follow," he ordered, and I quickly complied, following him as my chest continued to heave, my breasts swaying erotically beneath me despite the bra I wore.

"Sit on your big brother's cock," he instructed, sitting himself on the sofa, "and tell him all about those naughty thoughts in your head on the way home."

It did not take me long to comply, to pull aside the wet crotch of my thong and hold up my skirt and impale myself upon the forbidden phallus, groaning aloud with intense need as I violated myself upon my big brother's meaty manhood.

Even though I was relating numerous naughty thoughts in the darkness, we did not fuck. Instead, we slowly made love while we were both officially still fully clothed.

"My baby sister has such naughty thoughts about me," my big brother finally commented in a mock-menacing tone when I had finished telling him what I had envisioned. "Stand."

Reluctantly, I stood before him, my skirt falling back into its socially-acceptable position. A new river of desire began to trickle down each thigh as I stood in the darkness.

"You are to be punished for having such naughty, nasty thoughts," my Master informed me as he stood as well, beginning to unbuckle and remove his belt. "Now bend over the edge of the sofa."

Less than a minute later, I was biting my lower lip, groaning from the pain, trying to keep from crying out as my Master lashed into my ass, the skirt raised and the thong lowered to provide him with an unobstructed target. I grabbed a pillow from the sofa and placed it underneath my face, for my Master was indeed being merciless, especially since he was not bothering to warm me up at all. The pain was intense, the blows were rapid, and the pillow received an earful.

When my punishment ended, even as I continued to cry into the pillow, my Master violated me, reaching underneath me to also toy with my clitoris, his other hand seizing a breast somewhat roughly. He fucked me until my orgasm triggered his, bringing the unusual evening to a nice close.

That night, as we clutched each other in our sleep, my dreams were filled of the naughty thoughts I had had that evening, and when I awoke in the morning, I was hornier than I had been in weeks.

Fortunately, my big brother was more than willing to alleviate my sexual hunger, and there were no strangers present to disapprove of our forbidden love.