I awoke sometime during the night and was instantly aware of an arm draped over me, a hand gently cupping a breast, and a very male body pressed snugly against my backside. Awakening in this way, I could not help but smile to myself.
*****
We are fraternal twins, even though we officially share different birthdays: My brother was born a few minutes before midnight, while I was born a few minutes after midnight. After having inhabited the same tiny space for nine months together, it is perhaps no wonder that we are both so close, and always have been. It is often said that twins tend to share some special bond, able to "know" about the other at seemingly all times even when separated by great distances, and that has certainly been the case between us.
Even once our parents had brought us home from the hospital, they would tell family and friends, my brother and I were never content to be apart. We had separate bedrooms, but whenever we were not in direct sight of each other, we would both cry and fuss. After nearly two weeks of virtually no sleep, our parents relented and finally placed us in the same room, but even then, we were not content until we occupied the same crib, against their better judgment... but that was the key to both our happiness and their sanity.
As we grew older, there was very little that one of us ever did without somehow involving the other. Perhaps not surprisingly, we shared a number of similar interests. We typically had the same friends. We even tended to wear similar clothes, and almost always wore all-black outfits. Certainly, we fought on occasion, just like any other pair of siblings, but there was no doubt to anyone that my brother and I were inseparable, and also fiercely loyal to each other in all situations.
Only Siamese twins could be closer.
*****
As I began to drift off to sleep again, feeling safe and protected, the hand began to gently squeeze my breast, in that steady, slow, respectful rhythm I have always enjoyed and cherished. With a contented sigh, I closed my eyes, knowing deep inside that I would not sleep while being fondled so tenderly. I cursed my pajamas for barring the direct contact of skin against skin, yet the feel of the soft, well-worn flannel material brushing against my feminine flesh held a wonderful charm and sensuality of its own.
Further, I could feel an erection growing against my lower cheeks. I wondered if he was awake and simply playing with me, or asleep and completely unaware of what he was doing with my body. In either case, I did not mind, for this was a summertime weekend, thus no class or job awaited me with the dawn. In fact, I wiggled back against him, knowing all-too-well that it would add fuel to his fiery passion if he truly was awake.
Yet as I listened to his breathing against the back of my head, I realized that it was far too regular for him to be awake. He had to be lost in that hazy state somewhere between full consciousness and deep sleep, that odd state where dream is inseparable from reality and the mind is uncertain if what is seen and heard and felt is truly happening or simply the product of a hyperactive imagination.
Somehow, I doubted that he was conscious of his current actions, although I wondered how he felt at that moment. "How he felt" became quite evident as he began to hump me slowly, sliding his heavy, familiar erection along the natural crease. I sighed again, content, and was suddenly aware of just how aroused I had become from his kind manipulations of my body. As his hand squeezed my breast again, it shifted position, a finger sliding just perfectly across the erect nipple, the gentle sensuality of the act combining with the sweet signal shot from nipple to clitoris to force a soft whimper from my lips.
*****
