Sunlight filtered into the room through two enormous stained glass windows, illuminating the sisters in myriad colors where they sat facing each other on the floor. The sisters, Isabelle and Victoria, surrounded by dark oak woodwork and fur rugs, stared into each other's eyes with a vicious lust.
Twins, they were identical in every way that couldn't be altered, the same dark honey eyes, the same bow shaped mouth, the same pale, milky skin. The only differences in appearance between them were the cut of their pale strawberry blonde hair and the placing of their birthmarks. The birthmarks, located just above the downy triangle of hair below their bellies were identical as well, except Isabelle's was on the left, Victoria's on the right.
They both wore black slips and nothing else, the sheer fabric clinging to their small breasts, pulling tight against their perfect round bottoms.
Their hands were moving slowly between their own legs, gently rubbing at the warm moisture developing there.
Isabelle stopped pleasuring herself to take hold of the front of Victoria's slip, and in one quick movement ripped it apart down to the hem. Taking in the sight of so much bare flesh, she resumed her work on herself. Victoria reached out to do the same to Isabelle's slip, tearing it with ferocity completely unexpected from such a tiny girl.
Before Victoria could resume with herself, Isabelle grabbed hold of her wrists and pulled her close, kissing her fiercely, hard enough to bruise. Their tongues played, finding each other and swirling together. Their lips slid across each other's, pulling apart slightly so that the only part of their mouths to be touching were their tongues, before slamming back together in uncontrollable lust.
Victoria moaned into her sister's mouth, her eyes closed in ecstasy. Her hands slid around Isabelle's back, pulling her tighter against her, their breasts pressing against each other, the tiny pink nipples hardening further at the contact with their counterparts. Victoria's hands slid down to cup Isabelle's behind, squeezing the soft, tight flesh there, inciting a small squeal from Isabelle. Victoria lowered her right hand further 'til she felt Isabelle's moist warmth.
She slipped a finger inside.
Isabelle screamed in shock and pleasure, pulling back to look into Victoria's eyes. Her body quivered upon her sister's hand, wave upon wave rolling through her at this long sought pleasure. She placed her left hand on the side of Victoria's face; her right hand caressed her sister's left breast, squeezing gently. Isabelle pulled Victoria back into a kiss as she slowly began to gyrate around on her finger.
Victoria's mind was racing, one thought after another raced through and back again just as quick. Five years we've waited for this, she thought, her lips too busy to speak aloud. Five years, and finally Father says that it is allowed.
Victoria slipped a second finger inside.
Isabelle's screams resounded around the large room. Victoria removed her fingers and brought her hand around to the front, resuming her work with more leverage. She pulled Isabelle's hair so that her head was pulled backwards, making access to her pale throat easier, kissing her way down to take a painfully hard nipple between her lips, sucking it with relish, biting lightly. Isabelle buried her hands in the thick hair at the back of Victoria's head and held on for dear life as her first orgasm took hold and rode her screaming to the ground, Victoria lying over top of her. Victoria watched Isabelle's face with rapt attention as she put forth more pressure and speed, pushing her orgasm along as far as she could.
"Come for me, my love," she breathed to Isabelle as she leaned down to take an earlobe between her teeth. "I want you to come again, please, dear sister."
And Isabelle came again, as if the reminder of their taboo was enough to push her off of a cliff from which she had already fallen. She wrapped her legs around Victoria's waist, her arms around her torso, nails digging into her back.
Victoria kept up the tempo, willing Isabelle to ascend into levels of pleasure neither of them had ever reached with Father. As Isabelle regained some semblance of conscious thought, she slid an arm between the two of them, finding the soaking heat between Victoria's legs. She cupped her hand against Victoria's flood, teasing a finger along her cleft, stroking that most sensitive of spots with her thumb.
Isabelle slipped a finger inside.
Victoria came instantly. The pressure that had been building inside her as she worked her sister toward oblivion exploded from her in a flood of near blinding pleasure. She collapsed, shaking violently, on top of Isabelle. Her face buried between Isabelle's neck and shoulder, Victoria moaned out in ragged gasps.
After what seemed to be an hour or more, the twins collapsed into a tangled heap of sweat soaked skin and heavy breaths.
Victoria and Isabelle were nearly asleep on their fur rug, clasped tightly to each other. The soft sound of bare feet in the hall drew Victoria into wakefulness, her eyes moved to the door. The knob turned slowly, the oaken door swung inward, revealing a tall, long haired figure in a silk robe.
"Father," Victoria whispered as he entered the room.
Isabelle stirred at the word, turning her head to look dazedly toward the door. Her eyes widened at the sight of Father.
He stood, leaning against the doorframe, his hair covering half of his face, not quite covering the small secretive smile that crossed his lips.
In appearance, he was as different from his daughters as he could be. His skin was the olive tone of the Mediterranean, his hair as black as pitch. His eyes were a bright emerald green, and they shined with humor and thinly veiled lust. He wore a black silk robe embroidered with green designs that seemed to glow in shimmering waves. His bare chest was covered in light, black hair that lead in a trail down to the tied top of a pair of silk pants matching the robe.
He slowly walked up to the twins, standing over them and smiling.
"My beautiful flowers," he said in his deep, lilting voice. "The day is finally here, at last, eh?"
He began to walk in a slow circle around the rug on which they lay, surveying the arousing scene before him.
"Has it truly been twenty years? I find it hard to believe that the time has come."