I’m pretty unshockable when it comes to hearing people’s confessions. But what these naughty twins got up to surprised even me. They shared everything – even their men. Not in an incestuous way, of course, but they made sure that if a guy was fabulous in bed, they both got to try him for size . . .
MY IDENTICAL TWIN sister Annie and I have always been close. Not surprising, really, when you think we were born just three minutes apart. I was first, and even though we look absolutely identical in every way – from our long auburn hair to our thickly lashed green eyes, hourglass curves and very, very long legs – our characters are a little different. I’m much more in-your-face, pushy, and if I see something – or someone – I want, I go straight for it. Annie’s a touch more laid-back, slightly shyer, more willing to let the world pass by and see what comes her way. As kids, I’d be the one daring Annie to try new things, and as we became teenagers the pattern continued – I’d talk her into wearing that incredibly sexy dress, or calling the latest fit man she’d spotted.
We’d always shared everything – what’s mine was hers, and vice-versa. It didn’t matter if it was hairbrushes, make-up, CDs, clothes, a flat, and later on, men. Yes, we even shared our men. Quite shocking, I guess, when you first hear our tale. Not all our men, of course, just the ones who were a really good fuck. If either of us dated someone who was fun, fabulous in bed but definitely not relationship material, then we made sure that the other got a piece of the action.
It all started by accident. We didn’t deliberately set out to sleep with the same men, though we always fancied the same types – tall, dark-haired hunks with a hint of stubble, basically anyone who looked like Matthew Fox from Lost. But for a time when we were flatmates, my sister started dating this gorgeous builder, Danny. I’d never met him, but Annie had shown me a picture and in it he had a body to die for – muscular, tanned, with a sheen of sweat on the surface, as if he’d got a thin layer of body oil over him (maybe he had!). She’d met him after walking past a building site and he’d wolf-whistled. Being Annie, she’d blushed and walked straight past. But the next day he’d asked her out, and after much persuasion from me that night, she’d said yes. It was a pretty casual hook-up; he didn’t exactly challenge her intellectually. The sex, however, or so she told me, was amazing. ‘He’s got this thing he does to you, Debbie,’ she gushed. ‘I wish you could try it.’
I didn’t think any more about it, until a few weeks later when Annie came dashing in to our flat from work, her face alive with happiness. ‘That guy at work, Mike, he’s finally asked me out!’ she exclaimed. I was so happy for her. She’d adored Mike from afar for at least six months.
‘You lucky cow,’ I joked. ‘I haven’t had a decent shag for months and you’ve got them queueing up! Better give Danny the boot. Unless you want to keep him on the side for sex.’
‘Of course not!’ laughed Annie. ‘Poor Danny, though . . . I’m gonna ring him now. We’re supposed to be going out tonight.’
The thought struck us both at the same moment, just like our thoughts often did. We looked at each other and giggled. There was no need to say what was on our minds – we knew.
‘Do you think we’d get away with it?’ I asked.
‘Why not?’ replied Annie, clearly buoyed up from her chat with Mike and displaying a new-found, go-getting confidence. ‘Danny and I don’t do much talking. It’s a quick glass of wine in his flat and straight to bed. You could find out what he’s like.’
I hesitated. Danny had never actually seen me, and sure, Annie and me are the absolute image of each other, but what if he could just somehow tell that I wasn’t actually his girlfriend?
‘Danny? Not exactly Mr Intuition, Debs,’ went on Annie. ‘Besides, he won’t even care. Look, if he fancies me, he’ll obviously fancy you,’ she replied. ‘We’re completely identical. He knows I live with my sister but I don’t think I even mentioned we’re twins. And even if I did, I doubt he’d remember.’
Three months without sex – and the prospect of a night with Danny – was too much to turn down. Annie gave me the full briefing – living room straight ahead, bedroom on the right. Bathroom down the corridor. Talk about work – mainly his – to avoid giving anything away. So two hours later, nervous as hell, wearing Annie’s favourite knee-length silky skirt with a devilishly sexy, silky black bra and panties underneath, I found myself on Danny’s doorstep. He lived in a flat on a rough side of town, where even the doorbell looked so ingrained with dirt you didn’t want to push it. I’d just begun to think it was a bad idea and was thinking about going back home when Danny opened the door. He was barefoot, wearing a sleeveless vest and jeans, and looked absolutely gorgeous.
‘Annie!’ He smiled, pulling me roughly towards him and kissing me hard. ‘I saw you coming up the path.’
Being kissed full-on by a total stranger – albeit a gorgeous one – came as a bit of a shock, and without thinking, I instinctively pulled back. ‘Are you okay, babe?’ he asked, genuine concern in those huge brown eyes.
‘Sure,’ I replied breezily. ‘Sorry, I had a tough day at work. Be all right in a minute.’
I followed him in to the living room, which fortunately was clean and tidy, and sat on the sofa. Danny poured me a glass of wine and opened himself a beer. ‘I know what’ll take your mind off work,’ he said, crouching down between my legs and licking his lips.
He slid his rough, thick hands under my thighs and up my skirt, kneading my flesh gently. My heart pounded with a combination of panic and desire. An incredibly sexy stranger was about to plunge his face into my cunt. I could make an excuse and leave, or I could lie back, close my eyes and enjoy it. Needless to say, I did the latter.
Danny’s expert fingers massaged their way up my thighs towards my aching cunt, getting closer and closer until I could feel his warm, beery breath through my black silky panties. I ran my own fingers over his gorgeously muscular arms, savouring every inch of warm, moist flesh, every vein, the thrill making me realise that I really hadn’t had sex for a very long time. He pushed my skirt up over my hips, revealing my legs and pussy, as beads of sweat slid over my tits, one drop passing over my right nipple, sending a sudden, sexy chill through my nipple and my clit. There was no stopping now. I eased my legs wide apart, inviting Danny to leave my thighs and concentrate on my swollen, throbbing bud, just a couple of centimetres away from his wet lips. Danny knew what I wanted and deftly slid aside my soaked gusset, opening my engorged pussy lips with both hands, allowing cool air to waft over my bright red bud. He plunged a finger deep inside me while my own fingers circled my hard nipples. Having huge tits meant I could cup one in both hands and hold it up to my mouth, sucking hard and flicking it with my tongue.
‘I didn’t know you could do that,’ gasped Danny, looking up from between my legs, relishing the sight of me sucking at my tit. I let go with one hand and pushed his head back where I needed it – between my legs.
‘Gosh, Annie, aren’t you the little dominatrix today?’ He smiled – and this time he began rubbing my clit with his nose while forcing his tongue quickly in and out of my swollen pussy, working it closer and closer to orgasm. I watched his head bobbing faster and faster between my legs and his own right hand tugging furiously underneath his crouched body, presumably wanking his cock. Desperate to see it, I lifted up both stilettoed feet, rested them on his shoulders and pushed him backwards on to the floor.
Danny’s dick was poking out of his flies, pretty small by most standards, and I wondered what satisfaction Annie got from it – obviously enough to claim he was a really great fuck – but after three months of no sex I didn’t care. It was fully erect, darkening by the second, and just what I needed to fill the aching void. His whole face turned purple as he looked up at me, fighting the urge to come, standing with one leg either side of his chest, rubbing my own clit in soft, gentle circles. I kneeled down and lowered myself up and down on his dick, so wet by now that I could barely feel it. His hips lifted off the carpet as he thrust inside me.
‘Do you want it?’ asked Danny, slowly massaging my arsehole with his finger. I didn’t know exactly what he meant, but had a pretty good idea.
Now it was his turn to take the lead. He rolled me on to my stomach, pulled off my panties and slid a finger into my arse, well lubed with pussy juice, confirming my suspicion. His cock might not be big enough to properly satisfy my cunt, and he knew it, but it would fill my arsehole. This was virgin territory; clearly there were some things that Annie had done before me! I raised my bottom up, and braced myself for a moment of searing pain as his cock plunged into it.
‘God, you’re so tight today,’ he breathed, thrusting into my arse with all his might. ‘So tight. It’s fabulous.’
He was right. It felt sensational. Our bodies were pressed together, with Danny on top, but he took most of his bodyweight with his left arm while frantically flicking my clit with his right hand. His cock fitted inside me perfectly, giving me an exquisite sensation I’d never felt before. There was no way I could stop myself coming now. The intense feeling built up and up until it exploded right through my body, causing my arsehole to grip on to his cock tighter than ever. Danny shot his spunk instantly, his cock as hard as a rod, filling me up with his warm, wet cum. I felt totally satisfied, dizzy with the release of tension and pleasure that completely overwhelmed me. Annie had been right – this was one fuck I really didn’t want to miss. We lay together for a few moments, until he rolled off and took a swig of his beer.
‘I’ll take a shower, if that’s okay,’ I said, smoothing down my skirt and picking up my panties. ‘Then I’ve got to get back.’
‘Sure,’ he replied, kissing me on the nose. ‘You seem different today. More bossy.’
‘It’s just work,’ I replied casually. ‘Tough day, you know. Made me a bit, er, aggressive.’
‘Well,’ he continued. ‘I like it. And that thing you did, making your arse so tight, I don’t know how you did it, but it was mind-blowing. Like you’d never been fucked that way before.’
I grinned. ‘Oh, er, just a little trick of mine.’ Not exactly surprising, seeing as it was my first time. Shame I couldn’t tell him that . . . He might be flattered, but Annie and I would be found out.
‘Maybe I’ll see you Friday?’ he added.
‘Maybe,’ I said, smiling.
Annie couldn’t wait to hear all about it when she got back from her date with Mike. ‘Well . . . I got to sample Danny’s speciality.’ I grinned. ‘Something I guess you’re much more experienced at?’
She blushed. ‘I’ve never told you how much I love anal sex,’ she confessed. ‘Are you going back for more?’
I did. Several times over the next couple of weeks. And he never guessed. So after that, whenever either of us were single and found a fabulous fuck, we did the same. One of us had him until we were bored, then let the other take over. Mostly it was just one night each, sometimes – like Danny – it lasted a couple of weeks. We were never caught out – and I got plenty of my new-found love, anal sex. Annie certainly knew how to pick guys who were very, very good at it. But I never thought we’d fuck the same man on the same night – until Stefano turned up.
It was a summer afternoon – one of those days when it’s so hot that all you want to do is lie about in a bikini drinking chilled cocktails. Unfortunately my job for the day was to sit in and wait for our new fridge to be delivered. About as unsexy an afternoon as you could get. We’d tossed a coin to see which one of us should stay home, and I’d lost. ‘Between 9am and 6pm, love,’ was as accurate as the chirpy cockney delivery guy on the phone could get.
‘Can’t you give me any idea?’ I wailed. Annie and a couple of our friends were hitting the local pizza bar for a long, leisurely, wine-fuelled Saturday lunch, and I was desperate to join them.
‘Sorry, love,’ he chirped. ‘Stacks of deliveries, all over the South East. And you know the M25. Now just last week at Junction 7 . . .’
‘Okay, thanks,’ I said hastily. ‘See you when you get here.’ I hung up.
‘I told you we should have paid for a proper delivery firm,’ I grumbled.
‘No chance,’ said Annie. ‘My friend at work uses this one. They’re a quarter of the price. And they’re the only ones who would come on a Saturday. You don’t want to waste a day’s holiday on it, do you?’
She was right. I didn’t. And just as I suspected, there was no sign of the delivery guy by the time Annie set off for the restaurant. ‘Phone me when he shows up,’ Annie called as she disappeared out of the front door. ‘Maybe you’ll get there in time for coffee.’
‘Maybe,’ I replied, through gritted teeth. My experience of waiting for deliveries usually meant a wasted day, ending in total frustration when they didn’t even turn up.
By 6pm there was still no sign of my fabulous fridge and I was so wound up and irritated that I considered making a long and furious telephone call to complain when Annie called to say she’d left the restaurant and gone along to the pub.
‘Just come down,’ she insisted. ‘He’s obviously not going to show up now.’
‘Okay,’ I sighed. ‘I’ll get changed. I’m still in my bikini.’
At that moment, the doorbell rang.
‘He’s here,’ I snapped down the phone, pulling my sarong around my lower half. ‘About bloody time too. I could have had lunch with you guys and come back by now.’
I put down the phone and wrenched open the front door, quietly seething. ‘What time do you call . . .’ I began, and stopped dead in my tracks. Think Matthew Fox with ever bigger biceps and you’ve got him. One hell of a hunk, standing right there on my doorstep, in pale denim jeans and a white T-shirt, pulled tight over his wide, firm pecs. His eyes were dark brown, deep set with heavy, come-to-bed lids, his hair short and dark, and his tanned skin had a ruddy, warm glow to it. He smelled of cigarettes and espresso – not an aroma that would usually drive me wild, but somehow it suited him. The attraction between us was instant and intense. For a split second his eyes automatically flicked sexily over me, lingering on my tits, perfectly cupped by my pink bikini top. That sexy look turned my anger into a beaming smile, before he flicked back, businesslike, to his clipboard.
‘American fridge-freezer?’ he asked, scanning down his list, revealing a trace of an accent I couldn’t place.
‘Yes,’ I gushed, opening the door right up. ‘I’m Debbie.’
‘Stefano,’ he replied, with a smile. This was the hottest guy I’d met for months, and just looking at him was making me wet. Suddenly it was worth staying in all day just for a glimpse of him. Lust was written all over my face, no matter how much I tried to hide it. My nipples were hard, clearly visible through the fabric of my bikini top. And I could see the arousal reflected in his eyes and smile too, though there was no visible bulge in his jeans, yet. We wanted each other very badly.
‘You’re Italian?’ I blurted it out, just for something to say, desperate to keep him talking. All I could think about was unzipping those trousers and revealing what I knew would be an absolutely magnificent cock. There was something about Stefano’s confidence, the way he looked at me, that told me he’d certainly know just how to use it.
‘I’m afraid the only Italian I know is “cappuccino”,’ I giggled, wishing I could pull myself together and stop sounding like a silly schoolgirl. When it came to guys I was usually so in control, but Stefano’s sexy smile and beautiful body had got me pretty hot and bothered.
He looked back at his van, and beckoned to a skinny student-type in dirty jeans, who wheeled a simply enormous box up the front path.
‘Straight through for the kitchen,’ I told him, stepping out on to the doorstep with Stefano to let him pass. My hand brushed against Stefano’s, sending a rush of desire through every nerve in my body. I wanted his hand to touch every part of me, to stroke, to massage, to pleasure. Just the thought made my nipples and clit tingle, craving his touch, aching for him, and I knew then that I had to have him. Right there, right then.
The other guy wheeled his empty trolley past us and back to the van.
‘You’ll need to sign this,’ Stefano said, handing me the clipboard. ‘Do you have a pen?’
It was now or never. ‘I’ve got one inside,’ I replied. ‘Do you want to come in while I find it?’
He knew exactly what I meant, because he ran back to the van to speak to the skinny guy, and as soon as we were through the front door, he closed it behind us. We walked into the kitchen and my mouth was on his in a moment, kissing, biting, drinking in his taste of coffee and cigarettes. His hands were on his belt, undoing it and forcing his jeans down on to the floor, revealing a delicious, uncircumcised cock, fully erect, thick and long, its veins so engorged with blood that they stood out like a road map. I copied him, untying my sarong and easing my bikini bottoms to the floor.
‘Are you ready for me?’ he asked, sliding his fingers between my soaking pussy lips.
‘You know I am,’ I gasped, as his rough forefinger rasped over and over my clit. He lifted me up under the arms and sat me on top of the washing machine, my wet pussy perched right on the very edge. With one hand on his cock, he slid it up and down between my lips, stimulating my clit with the swollen, shiny head, which felt so much smoother and sexier than his rough hands. I was close to coming, and he knew it, so he plunged his cock deep into my cunt over and over again, his balls slapping against my thighs and the base of his cock now stimulating my aching clit. He fucked me like that for a minute, then dropped to his knees and licked my bud, tracing the edges of my pussy lips with his tongue. Each time I was a second or two away from orgasm, he sensed it and stopped for a few seconds, just enough to let the moment pass. I had never, ever, been so turned on in my life. But I wanted him to come in my arse. I turned on to my front, so I was bent over the washing machine, and shoved my arsehole in the air.
‘This I have never done,’ he whispered.
A virgin. An anal virgin. Just the thought almost made me come on the spot. He was going to ease that cock into his first ever arsehole, and he was going to love it. ‘I’m wet,’ I replied. ‘And I’m ready. Fuck me in the arse, Stefano. Fuck me now.’
He did as he was told, and I bit my lip as he speared into me, ignoring the brief moment of pain. Stefano let out a stream of Italian words – it could have been anything, but it was deeply sexy. It was quick – maybe only four or five thrusts – and his hot cum spurted into my arsehole, filling me up.
‘I’m sorry, baby,’ he whispered. ‘You have not come yet.’ And with that he pulled his cock from my arse and plunged it, semi-erect, into my dripping cunt from behind, rubbing my clit with that rough forefinger. A trickle of cum seeped from my arsehole and down the back of my legs. Stefano knew I was way past the point of no return and I didn’t want to hold back my orgasm this time, so he fingered my clit as fast as he could, until the hot waves of total satisfaction shuddered through my sore, sensitive body.
His limp dick slid from my pussy.
‘I cannot believe how good that was,’ he replied, turning me to face him and kissing me gently on the lips. ‘Thank you.’
‘There’s a first time for everything.’ I smiled. ‘Take a quick shower if you want. The bathroom’s through there.’
He disappeared into the bathroom and I heard the power shower burst into life. I pulled up my bikini bottoms, my cunt and arsehole sore but satisfied. Thank God I’d been the one who had to sit in all day. That fuck was so worth it. I wondered vaguely if he made a habit of screwing his customers. If so, no wonder he was so late. We’d never see each other again, that was for sure, and I wished Annie had been able to experience it.
I made a pot of coffee, and glanced out of the window, where the van was still parked, with the skinny guy asleep on the passenger seat.
Suddenly I heard the key in the front door and Annie walked in.
‘It’s huge!’ she exclaimed, staring at the giant box in the kitchen. Then she saw my flushed face. ‘Jeez, you didn’t have to lift it on your own, did you?’
I laughed, as a wicked thought popped into my head. ‘There’s a delivery driver in the shower who’s probably ready to go again, if you’re up for it.’ I grinned. ‘He’s an anal virgin – or rather, he was until about ten minutes ago. I think he’s a big fan now. Trust me, he’s gorgeous. And Italian.’
Annie’s eyes lit up. ‘Do you think we’ll get away with it?’
‘Only one way to find out! By the way, he’s called Stefano.’
‘Might as well,’ she said. ‘It’s been weeks.’
She disappeared into her bedroom and emerged seconds later in a bikini identical to mine. She rapped on the bathroom door, and Stefano’s muffled voice called out: ‘Yeah, I’m nearly done . . . Unless pretty baby wants some more, huh?’
I heard my sister step into the shower. ‘More, Stefano, than you’ll ever know.’
I picked up a magazine and my coffee, and retreated into my room, where I planned to stay until our delivery boy lover was gone. I smiled to myself at our little secret and the knowledge of what Annie was about to enjoy.