"Those idiots at school have no idea, do they Valerie?"
Vincent spoke as he looked up from his homework assignment. His tone was dismissive. He had no time for those he considered 'stupid people'.
His twin-sister saved her work on her iPad, then shook her head and laughed. "Don't let their ribbing get under your skin. They can't be expected to know what our DanceSport means to us."
But the 'idiots' obviously had gotten 'under his skin'. He went on griping "They think we two eighteen-year-olds are shuffling around some dusty ballroom full of geriatrics."
Valerie tried to reason with her irate brother. "You can't really blame them. Most people wouldn't know that competitive Ballroom Dancing truly is a sport, as physically demanding as almost any other."
"Yeah, I suppose," her agreed in a calmer voice. "I can't remember not dancing. Mum says we started when we were five. That's thirteen years now that we've been dance partners."
Valerie smiled. "We're getting really good, that's what makes it so exciting. I'm sure the twin-thing helps us. We almost know what each other is thinking. I mean, for all our whole lives we've lived together, gone to school together, trained together..."
Vincent took up the theme. "And played, and laughed, and cried. You know, we are each other's only friend. What with our school work and training we haven't got time for anyone else."
She nodded.
He scowled. "Can't say I miss being friends with those idiots at school."
"Mm." Always the thoughtful one, Valerie mused. "We do miss out on some stuff though. Like, we are legally adults, but in the eyes of our classmates we must seem awfully naive and lacking in social skills. Neither of us even have a Facebook account."
"I'm glad we haven't," he said, irritated again. "Means we don't have to see what crap they post about us."
They returned to their studies and worked in companionable silence for more than an hour. Occasionally Vincent paused and twiddled with his pen while his mind wandered back over the years of their dancing.
For much of their lives they had competed all over the Australia and New Zealand. They had won a lot and had been beaten a lot.
He recalled how for some of the time Valerie had been the taller of the two, and for some it was himself. And now, at eighteen years old, they were the same height when she wore the heels she danced in. Of course his testosterone had kicked in, so he was stronger and more muscular than his sister, and her estrogen had made her more curvy, but she was definitely muscular too.
He smiled to himself when he thought how her legs and arms rippled with muscle, and how in her revealing Latin-dance outfits he could see that her abs were every bit as pronounced as his own. Thanks to their years of training she had a rock-hard little butt and a tiny waist, but not much at all in the boob department, as like any high-level female athlete, she had almost no body fat at all. On top of all that she was a very pretty blonde.
He felt a pleasant thickening of his cock. His smile turned into a grin when he remembered Valerie saying that they almost know what each other is thinking.
"What's so funny?" Valerie interrupted his daydreaming.
He shook his head. "Oh, nothing."
He went back to work, wondering if she had read his mind. He hoped not, but maybe at some level she had, because...
Valerie took a break from the essay on her iPad screen and did an internet search for Latin-dance costumes. She enlarged and saved a few that appealed to her. Skimpy bikini-like things with spangled swirls attached. She loved them.
What a contrast they were to the outfits they trained in. Vincent usually wore shorts and a singlet, both black. She always wore any old light coloured cotton frock that had a short flared skirt. Under that just cotton panties. With her mini boobs a bra was unnecessary. The idea was to dress in any sort of comfortable clothing that allowed Coach a clear view of their limbs as the went through their routines.
She'd been experiencing some confusing emotions during their training sessions lately. As they glided around the floor, executing graceful swoops and turns, their fronts were always pressed firmly together. Chest to chest, belly to belly. In years gone by she'd never given the intimacy of it a thought, but lately it seemed to invoke new and troubling feelings.
For example, a few days earlier, the twins had been rehearsing a well-practised tango routine. The music was an old song called 'Temptation'. Valerie had looked into her brother's eyes and smiled a sly secret smile. She knew she'd silently communicated, in the inexplicable way of twins, that she was conscious of the cheeky sexual nature of the dance. And of the song's title. And of their body contact.
Vincent's awareness of it all was a much less subtle thing. He got an erection. When Coach was not looking, Valerie had thrust her groin hard against his. She hadn't intended it to be a sexual thing, she'd only meant it as a mild, sisterly rebuke. Playful. Maybe with just a hint of naughtiness. They'd faltered and lost time with the music, but managed to recover before Coach noticed. Both of them became flustered and a little embarrassed, but a little excited too.
She was troubled by her feelings, because Vincent was her brother, and it wasn't right to get stirred up by one's brother, was it? She knew it was a major taboo, utterly prohibited. So forbidden that it was never even spoken about. No one ever came right out and said 'you must not engage in naughty stuff with your brother' but everyone knew it anyway. The thing was, the very fact that it was outlawed made it all the more exciting to her.
On that same occasion Vincent had felt her hard nipples through their damp tops and smelt the tang of her sweat, so different from his own, but not at all unpleasant. He didn't know enough about girls to be sure, but he guessed she was getting turned on by way their their bodies were rubbing together. He knew his own arousal was all too obvious, and her groin bump had said she clearly knew he was feeling the sexiness, though her grin had said she didn't really mind too much.
They had not spoken of that and other similar disturbing occurrences. Neither of them felt comfortable about raising the subject, even though it weighed heavily on their minds.
The twins having turned eighteen, were preparing for their first adult-level competition. Coach had pointed out that it was essential to include at least one lift into their routine. All of the lifts were very 'hands-on'. Vincent had to put his hands on Valerie in some very personal places. Her thighs, her armpits, around her upper body, under her butt.
Incredibly, in the latest one they were attempting, as she moved in front of him, he bent his knees slightly, quickly thrust his right forearm through between her thighs from behind, the crook of his elbow against her butt, his fingertips pressing her belly, then he heaved upwards to help her vault to a height that would be quite impossible unassisted. The audience was not meant to notice that he helped, and so be amazed by the height of her leap.
The main force of the assist was under that hard little butt of hers, but his wrist, and sometimes his palm and fingers, frequently made fleeting contact with her panties-clad pussy. They did the lift again and again and again. The more hot and exhausted they got the sloppier their technique became, so with her sweaty thighs sliding on his sweaty arm, more and more he was absolutely groping female genitalia every time. She seemed not to notice, and he certainly didn't mind at all.
Right in the middle of yet another run-through, Coach shut the 'Temptation' music off and called out for them to finish for the day. Valerie completed the move that placed her in front, but didn't jump. Reflexively, Vincent thrust his arm between her thighs, then started to lift, but realising it was all over, he stopped.
