(In Chapter 1, Jim and Alyson had discovered on their blind date that they were in fact fraternal twins separated at birth. The story continues from thereā¦)
"Hi, Sis."
"Hi, Bro."
Alyson was at a loss. In spite of the extreme emotionalism of the night and the shock that Jim was actually her twin brother, she still felt an overwhelming physical attraction to him. Her hand traveled along the top of the sofa back to touch his. Her black fingers entwined with his white ones. They looked at each other⦠Alyson felt her breathing coming shorter.
"Ahh, are you safe? she asked.
"I had my last check two months ago and, well, let's just say there's been a dry spell since then." he responded with a grin.
"Ha!" she exclaimed, "beat you. It's been three months for me."
Jim shifted on the sofa and came closer. Alyson had an impression that Jim was almost breathing fire. She smiled as his lips lightly brushed hers his tongue leaving a wet trail across them, then slipped past them and started sucking at her ear lobe.
"Oh god", she thought, "how did he know how much that turns me on⦠oh, of course."
His hand went to the back of her blouse undoing its single button at the back of her neck. He pulled back watching it slide from back to front revealing her breasts and gathering at her waist. Her braless breasts were full and taut with a small up turn at their bottoms and no sag. The stiff nipples looked like small brown erasers. He leaned over to kiss them each in turn. His arms went around her back and he pulled her left tit up to his lips and began to suck, after a moment he began to nibble her nipple.
"Harder." she said.
He complied, smiling as he nipped her nip. He turned his attention to her other nipple, remembering as a boy how he'd often chewed the erasers off the end of his pencils in school⦠he wondered if⦠and was startled when he heard her voice inside his head say, "You damn well better not."
His hand went to the button and zipper on her mini skirt⦠she lifted herself off the sofa to assist him as her skirt slid off to the floor. All she had on now was her thong, her perfume and the rising scent of her womanhood. Jim stood up kicking off his shoes and removing his T-shirt and chinos. Alyson could see his cock poking out from his boxers, boxers that soon joined his other clothing on the floor. He stood there so she could see him in the city lights.
From top to bottom - semi-long, brown hair, clean shaven - thank god none of that stupid looking 2-day stubble. His body was obviously that of someone who took care of himself - a well-defined chest, a flat stomach, a 6" - no, be generous, 7" - hard cock, a tight butt and a jogger's legs.
"The socks."
He grinned, bending over to remove them.
"The thong." he prompted.
She grinned, lifting her ass off the sofa and pulling the thong - slowly - down her thighs⦠legs⦠and then launched them at him with one foot. He dodged watching them sail past him with the tiniest flutter. She lay back on the sofa, spreading her legs. He saw her black hair was trimmed, but - thankfully in his opinion - not shaved.
There was no foreplay, no licking, no sucking - it was just a straight fuck. He leaned over her, steadying himself with one arm, using the other to aim his cock to her entrance. He ran the pink head of his cock lightly over her pink labia, feeling their wetness. She gasped from the contact. Then slowly, deliciously, pushed into her, pink on pink being replaced by white on brown. He pushed and she gasped, pushed again and she gasped again. After several thrusts he was in to the hilt. He lowered himself on to her and she welcomed his weight. For a moment they just savored each other. Without a word, they began to move together. To him it felt like a warm, wet velvet glove with a living hand inside, to her it felt like a welcome intrusion, part, but yet not part of her body.
The tempo of their movement began to increase.
"Harder." she said