Message-ID: <25099asstr$963195005@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: Admiral Cartwright X-Original-Message-ID: <8kamge$ak2$1@nnrp1.deja.com> X-Article-Creation-Date: Sun Jul 09 20:15:21 2000 GMT MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=iso-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit Subject: {ASSM} <*> NEW STORY! 'Double Take' (MFgg variations, pre-teen, inc, cons) by Admiral Cartwright [1/2] Date: Sun, 9 Jul 2000 22:10:05 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: english, gill-bates 'Double Take' (MFgg variations, pre-teen, inc, cons) By Admiral Cartwright Written by and copyright 1999 Admiral Cartwright, a pseudonym. It is intended solely for the entertainment of its audience. Any publication, reproduction, retransmission or other use of the descriptions and accounts herein without the express written consent of Major League Baseball is prohibited. Unless, of course, you ask the author first (Email address provided below). Distribution of this material or of any predecessor(s) for profit and/or with this information abridged shall constitute a violation of copyright law and may result in some serious shit. (Warning: the following explicitly depicts sexual activity which may be frowned upon and/or illegal. Reading further constitutes your assertion that you are mature enough to understand and accept the nature of the material hereinafter, and the author assumes no responsibility for your repressions.) Archived at http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Cartwright/www Author's note: The following is based (very) loosely on 'Das doppelte Lottschen' by Erich K stner with a playful nod to the filmed incarnations since. This story, while paying homage to the above, is an all-new, fictional treatment of the identical-twins-split-at-birth scenario and, in this case, the development of their sex lives. It is in no way meant to be representative of the actions, real or scripted, of any participant in the original novelization or in at least three US motion pictures and one German film since produced thereupon. -- Part One Prologue Sandi was looking into a mirror. She HAD to be! It was the only way she could explain the face staring back at her. The 12-year-old Texan thought she had seen everything - until now. Sandra Farber also had thought she was the best AT everything until the girl now wearing her face beat her decisively in the archery contest. A long line of young ladies just about her own age had tried their hand at the difficult sport, quickly narrowing the field to two; as she walked up to stand behind her now sole opponent, Sandi took quick note of the girl's hair: It's her! She's the one! Sandi had spent what seemed like two whole days just walking up to wherever as this girl was just leaving. All she ever saw was hair remarkably like her own. Now, three feet from her face, she could see it was exactly alike! A few inches longer, but otherwise the same. Her opponent finished loading her bow and turned her face toward the target. Sandi could see the girl's eyebrow and cheekbone; she tried craning her neck to get a better look. It would prove sufficiently distracting. Sandra Farber missed the target altogether, and lost - for the first time in her life. Then the victor turned to face her, and Sandi experienced another first: a loss for words. So, she and her mirror image just stood there... staring. Four eyes wide; two jaws agape. "Now, Sandra," came an adult voice nearby, but disembodied; so intent was she on the deception burning through her eyes that nearly all else was nonexistent. "Be a good sport, and shake hands," the now-distant admonishment continued. "B-but she cheated," Sandi blurted out, and immediately scrunched her nose. The bald-faced lie was something she obviously could not back up in front of literally dozens of witnesses. Nor could she back down. Sandi was stuck with her words, and they to her. "I beg your pardon," came the polished response of a highly insulted pre-teenager. Sandi blinked, her eyes growing wide yet again. It was day three at summer camp. The lush, impossibly picture-postcard- perfect forests bordering Lake Superior were the perfect backdrop for Camp Keweenaw, an exclusive warm-weather home of sorts for thousands of girls from all over the continent. The six-week-long diversion even attracted a few imports. Sandi already had heard the obviously British accent, one she knew so well from old Benny Hill reruns and bad movies further butchered on MST3K. (Sandra Farber had a wicked sense of humor. Living next to herds of cattle and spending every waking moment with the young sons of ranch hands can do that to a girl.) Now that accent had a face - and it was HER OWN! Sarah Lotrice too was stunned; first, by the incredible resemblance between the two, then by the accusation against her impeccable character. "How dare you accuse me of cheating?" "You-- you distracted me," Sandi retorted, trying vainly to use some semblance of the truth to her advantage. "I cannot see how I could possibly--" "GIRLS!" The activities director no longer was amused by a seeming case of sibling rivalry, more right even than she could know. The whispering and giggling exhibited by the rest of her young charges was not helping matters, either. "Shake hands!" "Me? Shake hands?" Sandi repeated, feigning innocence. She turned back to face her opponent, her expression suddenly cold. "I don't shake hands with no outlaws, 'Robin Hood'," she drawled, playing her role to its hilt. Sandra Farber then turned on her heels, leaving her twin wearing the same stunned expression she'd adopted when she'd turned around only moments earlier. Chapter One 'Thicker than Water' Sarah lay in her bed in the cabin chosen for her by random drawing earlier that week. The woodland ambience provided background harmony to the melodious snoring of the other Iroquois; the tribal name this group of girls would bear for the next six weeks. Wonderful, she thought; I WOULD get the loudest cabinmates in the whole bloody camp. Unable to sleep, the 12-year-old Londoner finally considered relieving herself. Masturbation was far too personal a thing to Sarah to risk sharing inadvertently with anyone else, but the day's events had left her uptight. Tonight, I need this, she reasoned. Slowly raising her knees to make a small tent with her bedclothes, Sarah moved her hand equally gingerly to her pubis. Remaining outside the soft cotton of her knickers, she began the one diversion that most betrayed the otherwise prim little lady everyone knew. Then again, no one here truly knew her. Besides, she thought, I well might not be the only one... ***** Four cabins away, Sandi too could not sleep, unlike her fellow Apaches. That random choice had been all too appropriate for the girl from Cypress, Texas. That, however, was not foremost in her young mind. The pre-teen was a-jumble with all sorts of conflicting emotions. She wanted to apologize to that girl with her eyes, her nose, her HAIR - hell, her EVERYTHING - but she couldn't decide whether that would cause her to lose face even more. Woo yeah, THAT'S ironic, she thought. Just then, the 'feeling' hit her. ***** Sarah's dainty fingers were painting a vertical line up and down her still hairless sex, slowly traversing the entire length between her young anus and the top of her mound; back and forth, over and over. The familiar warmth was beginning to course through her very being, inching ever so slowly to the precipice past which lay no return. The otherwise perfect little lady now concentrated on the little button that seemed to illuminate every nerve in her body, taking the long- distance trip to the pleasure center in her brain. So good, she thought. So good... ***** Sandi sat bolt upright in her bed, stifling the urge to gasp out loud. She'd never before experienced the 'feeling' without her father present. There was no explanation for it here: she'd seen the boys on the ranch make sex play with each other, and wondered what another girl might feel like with her; but the thought inspired no particular emotion, it was just... there. Sandi's cabin, of course, was filled only with other young girls, a few of whom she'd already made friends with; none caused any feelings. Slowly, her head found the pillow again and she thought maybe she'd been dreaming. The 'feeling' had stopped, and she tried again to close her eyes and wipe out the day. God a'mighty, let it end... let it go... ***** Bother, Sarah almost said aloud. The girl in the next bunk had turned over noisily and she thought for a moment she'd been caught. The loudest snoring of them all then proceeded to awaken yet more of the group; some of the girls giggled playfully at the noise, while others groaned loudly. Finally, after what seemed like forever, one camper got up and gently pushed the offender to her side. Relative quiet eventually returned as the girls drifted, one by one, back to sleep. Now, Sarah relaxed again, resuming her ministrations. The little button atop her slit pulsed, as if begging its master for attention like a lovesick puppy. Sarah answered the silent beckoning, flicking her finger again outside her prim cotton knickers, faster and faster. She knew from her grandfather's books that playing with her 'clitoris' led her to experience an 'orgasm', and she knew from experience that they were more powerful after going without for a few days. This one seemed to start from the sheets and fill her body slowly like a bottle, until it reached the tips of her nipples, standing proudly atop b-cup breasts big enough to make a few of the older girls jealous. Clamping her teeth together hard, Sarah came even harder, trying harder still to squelch the violent shaking her young body would experience each time she went over the edge. ***** In her ragged dream, Sandi was swimming in the bay. The water suddenly had become choppy and violent, lifting her higher and higher toward some unseen peak. The cool bay was getting hot; the waves lapping against her nakedness until one came crashing down hard... Sandi awoke suddenly, clutching her legs tightly together as her whole body was wracked by shakes. Quickly, the orgasming girl buried her head under her pillow while she rode out the throes of her pleasure like an unbroken horse. "Oh... my... GOD!!" she screamed into the mattress, unheard by the sleeping pre-teens sharing her cabin. Waves and waves swept over her, unabating, unforgiving, unprovoked! As suddenly, it was over. ***** Sarah's head reeled from the unusual power of her orgasm. Her knickers were soaked, but she knew if she tried to arise and retrieve a fresh pair from her footlocker, the aroma of her sex would permeate the cabin. I'll just have to get used to it for the night, she thought as she rolled over and went straight into a sound sleep. ***** Hoh-lee shee-it! Never before had Sandi come alone and with no apparent reason, and she realized she actually was scared! Where the fuck did THAT come from, she thought. Why here, why now? Hoo-wee, you are losin' it, girl! No, no, get a grip, Sandi admonished herself. There's a reason for this, there's gotta be; and, doggonit, I'm gonna find it. It would not be a restful night. Chapter Two 'Returning the Favor' "Oh, damn," Sarah allowed herself the mild oath, an evil grin spreading across her porcelain features. "You can't ever trust those bloody 'outlaws', can you, now?" Sandi coughed up a gulp of bay water and turned, nearly waist deep in the murk. The giggling Brit skipped off, her twin's stare putting the water's temperature to shame. Ya wanna play, huh? Sandi said to herself, an unknown fate now sealed. Well, you just moseyed into the wrong snake pit! "That bee-otch!" said Ashley. "Huh?" Sandi answered intelligently. The Texan's cabinmate repeated, "Bee-otch. It's kinda like a nice way to say 'bitch' without the 'rents knowing about it." "Rents?" Now Sandi really felt dumb. The perennial California blue-eyed blonde looked at the Texan like she was from another planet. "Parents, you nutbar!" Ashley sighed. "Well, sor-reeee," Sandi let the last syllable linger. "I guess I'm not like up on 'Cali-flaky'," she added with a toothy grin. "Oh, you're just tooooo cute," the Californian bristled playfully, the victim yet again of the Texas girl's sharp tongue. "So, like, what are we gonna do about your evil clone?" "Dunno," drawled the response. "I'll thinka something." Yeah, I'll get that - what was it again - bee-otch, all right. I'll git 'er good! That night, it was Sandi's turn to be horny. She missed her Pa's tongue, and the gentle but insistent ministrations that brought her to an explosive cum. It gave her an idea. After lights out and after Sandi was sure her cabinmates were asleep, she raised her knees and carefully peeled off her panties. Parting her legs, she licked her finger until it was coated with her saliva and moved it toward her pre-teen slit. Gently at first, Sandi flicked her fingertip over the throbbing love- button at the top of her young sex. It responded, sending a shiver through her consciousness. Sliding downward, Sandi dipped a finger gingerly into her honey pot, bringing even more moisture with it back to the top of her hairless pussy. Her clit pulsed with wanton pleasure, beginning the journey to orgasm. ***** "Mum's a doctor, actually," Sarah continued, her new friends hanging on to every word. "Grandfather always said she didn't take well to working with dead cows so she left his leather business years ago. He's retired n--" The Londoner stiffened, her eyes suddenly wide as saucers. "Ex-- excuse me, I must... um, be... uh, use the lavatory, sorry!" she stuttered as she stood quickly and ran outside her cabin. "What's a lav-uh-tree?" asked one girl. "The bathroom," answered another. "Shit, I've NEVER had to go THAT bad." ***** Sandi plunged two digits now, as deep inside her pre-teen pussy as they would go. The index finger of her other hand continued flicking across the tiny, throbbing knob of flesh that seemed to extend to meet her touch. Sandi gasped as her orgasm began, biting her lip to keep from rousing the other girls snoring softly nearby. The first wave slammed hard into her, sending Sandi convulsing into the atmosphere, into orbit. The feeling seemed to carry her home to Texas; the best turbulence a girl ever could want. Her eyelids squeezed tightly, sending stars across her retinas. Eventually, she came down from her natural, sexual high, totally spent. Whoo, what am I, homesick? she asked herself before conscious thought left her. Sandra Farber slept. ***** Sarah awoke to a faint nibbling at her nose. The squirrel jumped, fleeing into the darkness. What the devil, she started the thought, then managed to find the backlight to her watch. Four-thirty! My God, I must be bloody gone! Then she remembered: she'd experienced the unmistakable warmth of her orgasm. But... why now? The wet dream she'd experienced in the middle of many a night was freaky enough; Sarah simply assumed it was an aftershock of sorts to her evening masturbation. Now, she had to wonder. The 12-year-old Brit slowly padded back inside the cabin and crawled weakly into her bed. Sarah, too, slept. Chapter Three 'Let the Games Begin' "She's always first in the shower. Every morning," said Ashley. "Every time," added Marisa. Sandi smiled at her Apache partners in crime. "She uses the same nozzle every time, too?" "Yup, every time," came the answer. "But she didn't look like she slept so good last night." "Good," Sandi smirked, ignoring that last remark. "We got 'er!" That night, the Texan and her two friends went to work. One already had filled a balloon with water and put it in an ice chest. They'd found some of the heavy cord used to hold up banners, and borrowed a large safety pin. Tying the cord to the crank on the tiny window too high to see through without a stool, the other was secured to the shower head. There, they waited until just before dawn. Marisa then closed the safety pin over the end of the balloon. The cord already had been threaded through the small loop at the pin's other end. Marisa slid the makeshift water bomb to Ashley on a stepstool, who then pushed the balloon to the window. Both girls then scurried outside to join Sandi, who stood on a chair stacked upon a table; hand through the window, she held the balloon gingerly, waiting for Sarah's arrival. She didn't have to wait long. The prim Brit slid off her robe and stood before the shower, blinking with the early-morning light, trying to adjust. At least she'd actually spent the whole night in her bed this time. As she reached for the nozzle, Sandi let the ice-cold balloon go, gravity quickly taking over. An ear-piercing scream echoed off the nearby mountains. ***** "Did you see who was with her?" asked Kayla. 14 years old, the Iroquois- for-the-summer stood head-and-shoulders above many of the other girls and looked for all the world like she was ready to go kick some Apache ass. "No, I saw but a glimpse as they rounded a corner. SHE was the leader, certainly," the Brit finished with obvious distaste. "Then," the bigger girl reasoned, "we'll just HOFF to go get the whole bloody cabin!" Sarah winced slightly at the bad accent, but that quickly was hidden as an evil grin spread across her beautiful young face. ***** Sandi never saw her 'clone' that day. She had to admit she was surprised, more sure than ever that she would be in for some sort of payback. But, it never happened. By nightfall, the Texan had begun to relax. A giggle-filled recap of the day's events, varying wildly from girl to girl, finally died down as the 'Apaches' drifted off for the night. Something about the usual easy camaraderie seemed a little off to Sandi; something... outside... but she couldn't quite place it. Besides, she was too tired to care much; sleep soon would envelop her, too. Thus, the wait was over for the silent Iroquois, and the work began. ***** Was it Reveille, or the rooster? Sandi wasn't sure what had awakened her, but she was certain that a string didn't belong across her face. Instinctively, she batted at the obstruction, unwittingly setting a chain of events into motion. A scream next to her brought Sandra upright, to see her closest cabinmate suddenly dripping wet. Water balloons fell, one by one, onto the other Apaches until everyone was soaked, save Sandi. The realization that she, too, must be a target didn't hit her as fast as did the largest balloon by far, the spray hitting the floor on either side of her bed from at least a gallon of cold water. (And not just ANY water; this had the unmistakable aroma of the lake, mixed with animal scents that left the whole room smelling like a rural dairy.) Sandi's cabinmates looked at her knowingly; this was not meant so much for them as for her, but she'd left them vulnerable, too. The 12-year- old tomboy from Texas suddenly felt outnumbered like never before, and out of her element. So did the Camp Director, walking in as if on cue. Chapter Four 'Discovery' The full impact of the girls' resemblance never was more apparent than now, as they stood at attention, shoulders inches apart, facing the camp's elders. "Such disgraceful conduct from sisters, of all people," said the Camp Director. Sandra Farber and Sarah Lotrice looked at each other in obvious distaste, Sandi piping up first. "She ain't no sister o' mine," she said. The women suddenly looked like rebuffed English teachers, but held their collective tongues. One finally responded, "They're not sisters. Hard to believe, eh?" "Hmpf," grunted the stateswoman. "They're about to get closer than that," she offered. Standing with some effort, the elder woman slowly circled the pre-pubescent girls as they tried for all the world to stand perfectly still, as if the lack of motion somehow could stifle the scrutiny. "I've not stood for hanky-panky, not in 40 years at Camp Keweenaw," the woman crowed with pride. "I'll give you a choice. The two of you are going to spend the rest of camp together, and alone. Or," the option lingered, "we're calling your parents to come get you. "And, we keep the money they paid to send you here." Oh, no, both girls thought as one. 'We told you you're still too young'? No way they were going to listen to that. Yet, Sandi and Sarah couldn't help but glance at each other in apprehension. A thought seemed to pass between the girls. "We'd prefer to stay," Sarah offered. Sandi nodded her agreement. "You will," continued the Camp Director, "either learn to get along with each other, or you'll punish yourselves far better than I could!" Just wonderful, Sarah thought. Shee-it, echoed Sandi. ***** It took most of the day to move all but two bunks from the farthest cabin to all the others, each taking on one more Comanche, or Sioux, or Choctaw. The two lookalikes now were lone Tehachapi, not that it mattered much. Sandi and Sarah were required to sleep and eat isolated from the rest, but that didn't mean they had to spend every waking moment together. Determined to stay as far apart as possible, both girls were exhausted from all the effort. Two nights later, when bedtime again arrived, they retired almost as one. Sarah was the first to awaken to a drive she'd not fulfilled for about a week. She glanced nervously over to the cot on the other side of the cabin and saw, to her relief, that Sandi was asleep. Slowly, so as to avoid rousing her neighbor - the girl with her face - she raised both knees until access to her pre-teen sex was easy, and silent. The 12- year-old Brit began slowly to rub in the places she knew all too well. ***** Sandi, too, awoke to an unspoken desire. Her 'clone' seemed to be sleeping soundly, and now seemed as good a time as any. Slowly moving her hand south, her fingers found the button only beginning to pulse with a need for relief not felt in days. Spreading her legs slowly, slightly, almost soundlessly, Sandra Farber began strumming the strings of her own sweet music, building to the crescendo that is orgasm. Familiar, yet distant, only closer somehow, the feelings welled up, stronger than ever. ***** It's not been THAT long, Sarah thought, as carnal knowledge seemed to turn the page to the next lesson. The feelings expressed a whole new urgency, building to an unforeseen peak. Stronger, faster, doubled and more, the orgasm took over, slamming into the 12-year-old's very being with shocking force. ***** God, all'a Texas'd be proud'a this, Sandi's mind screamed, as her climax swept her off her bed and into oblivion, surprising the pre-teen with the sheer violence of its peak. She heard herself scream; her, and more. Back to Earth with a thud, Sandi sat straight up, staring into her own eyes from across the room. ***** "You--" Sarah started. "You were... um, masturbating, weren't you?" the Brit finished sheepishly. "Yeah, so...?" came Sandi's retort, not sure whether she should be irritated. "So was I." "And...?" "Didn't you feel it?" Sarah asked, nonplussed. "Feel what?" Now Sarah was edgy. "I've just had the most amazing orgasm of my entire life, and you too were screaming bloody heaven, and you don't feel it?" Sandi squinted; understanding, yet not. "You mean, like, we felt each other cum, or something?" "Perhaps both." "Yuh huh," Sandi answered. "Like, how's that possible?" "I'm not sure," Sarah lied. Chapter Five 'The Truth' "Tell me," began the Brit, "when did you start?" "What, friggin' off?" "Frig--? Um, I suppose you'd call it that." "Couple'a years ago, I guess," Sandi answered slowly. "I used'ta come home from school and see-- um, well, then I got a funny warm feeling, and I started trying to make it go away at night." "What time did you get home from school?" Sarah asked, trying to ignore the discomfort her cabinmate suddenly was showing. "'bout three." Sarah did some quick calculations. "Texas, six hours from Greenwich... nine my time... oh, my God! That's when I..." the thought trailed off. She'd already known, but wasn't quite ready to accept it, until now. Suddenly, a light turned on. "Did you mas-- uh, 'frig off', when you went to bed?" "Yeah." "Shit, three a-m," Sarah allowed herself the oath. "I came again at three a-m. Just when you... do you know what this means?" "We, uh..." Realization hit Sandi, her eyes suddenly like saucers. "Sssssarahhhh... is... I mean... do you... who's your Pa?" "We've never met." "Shit! And I ain't never seen my Ma. You don't guess..." Sarah slowly got up, crossing the expanse of the barren cabin to sit at the foot of Sandi's bunk. "How old are you?" "Twelve," answered Sandi. "Just had my birthday not two months ago." Tears pooled in Sarah's eyes, all doubt gone. "May 30th?" "Oh, my God," Sandra cried. "We're... we're TWINS!" The girls hugged hard, sobbing with joy. ***** "Grandfather used to have a business making leather, you know, wallets, saddles, that sort of thing. Mother decided she'd rather work with living people than with dead cows." Sandi listened to her British twin with keen interest, understanding dawning on her. "Of course," she said. "That's how Pa met 'er, what with our ranch an' all. Pa sent me to camp 'cause'a how hard I've worked to help him. And for bein' such a good-- uh, you know, worker," Sandi caught herself. "I've never been out of London before. Mum is so protective, she barely lets me from her view. She's a doctor, you know." "Really? Whoo-ee, man, I'd love to..." Sandra turned suddenly to her twin. "Hey, y'wanna meet Pa?" "Of course, I'd love-- wait a moment, surely you're not suggesting..." "Who's Shirley?" Sarah rolled her eyes heavenward. Sandi burst out laughing. "You bet I'm suggesting! We're twins, right? How're they t'know?" "Oh, not a lot, other than that we're completely different." Sandi smiled. "Y'ain't gonna wimp out on this one, are ya? C'mon, all we gotta do is a little play-acting." Sarah considered this for a moment. At worst, Mum and Dad would see each other for a few minutes while the girls were handed back to the proper parent. At best, maybe... just maybe... "Y'all git ready to move 'em out," Sarah said in her best southern drawl. Sandi laughed again... this was going to be too easy. They had, after all, three weeks... Chapter Six 'Appearances' "You must be joking." "Nuh uh. You want to fool the 'rents, don't'cha?" "Rents?" "Fergit it. If Ma and Pa are gonna believe we're each other, we gotta know we can fool anybody, right?" Sarah knew Sandi was right; she just didn't want to perform in front of the whole bloody camp. "Must we? I've not even met your friends, and you've yet to meet mine!" It was Sandi's turn to roll her eyes. "That's why we hadda practice so hard. For two weeks. Y'ain't foolin' anyone 'til you're ready, and y'ain't ready 'til you believe you're Sandi Farber from Cypress, Texas." "You'll not fool anyone speaking like that," Sarah replied, grinning. "I believe you shall find I am quite ready for the challenge," Sandi shot back, with dead-on British precision. "Are you?" ***** The girls compared notes each night for their final week at Camp Keweenaw. The other girls occasionally caught misspoken words; the elders didn't even notice. The last night of camp, Sarah felt like celebrating. She surprised her Texan twin with a naughty suggestion: "It's been so long since we mast-- uh, 'frigged off'," she said. "Let's." "Gawd, I thought you'd never ask! Can..." Sandi started, blushing. "...um... I don't... I dunno what it looks like, can I watch?" "I suppose I am rather curious. Shall we watch each other?" The 12-year-old twins fell back on their beds, long since pushed together. Facing opposite directions, each could get a clear view as the other pulled off first her shorts, then her dainty panties until her most private parts were exposed to the other. The girls watched, fascinated, as each began the very different ministrations that achieved the same end. Sandi licked a fingertip, then flicked it quickly across her swollen clit until it throbbed with joy. Sarah slowly moved a finger up and down her entire slit, an electricity gradually building. Sandra's finger found its way inside her love hole, bringing with it the juices to lube further her young womanhood. Sarah's eyes grew wide and she tried the same maneuver, unsuccessfully. I'll have to practice that someday, she filed away in her memory. Still, her own sweet sensations were building, and she continued the technique that served her so well. Sandi was drawn to her twin's pubes by something she couldn't describe. Leaning over, her tongue barely made contact with Sarah's sex before the Brit jumped, astonished. "Sandra Farber, what ARE you doing?" "Aw, shit, I'm sorry," the Texan stammered. "I just wanted to try it, is all. Please don't be mad!" Sarah couldn't decide what was stronger: her distaste for her twin's actions, or her love for the girl for caring enough to try. "All is forgiven," she finally said with a smile. Grinning, Sandi went back to work with a wet fingertip flicking her button and with two fingers from her other hand plunging deep into her canal. This'll knock her 'bloody' socks off, she thought. It was her last memory before darkness overcame her. Sarah and Sandi crossed the threshold into oblivion together, searing heat smashing into their bodies from within, pounding relentlessly into their very consciousness. Four eyes clamped shut, two mouths open in silent screams, two cute 12-year-old butts lifted from their beds, jerking in unison, yin and yang, coherence rushing out with unseen winds, and back in again. Then, it was over; ragged breathing the only evidence that the girls still were of this world, all else gone, save the night. Chapter Seven 'In With the New' The cool lake breeze betrayed the usual August warmth, and both girls, naked from the waist down, awoke to chills. "Gawd a'mighty, you look like hell," Sandi said to her bleary-eyed neighbor. "Oh, thanks," came the sarcasm. "I believe I feel the way you look." Sandra got up on legs that argued vehemently, and stumbled to the mirror. "Shee-it," she moaned, "mebbe we oughta take it a bit easier when we do that." "Oh, I don't know," Sarah answered with as wry a grin as she could muster, "I think it was worth it." Sandi smiled a knowing smile at her twin. They truly were identical in appearance; Sarah's hair already cut to Sandi's length, both now matted and unkempt. Both had identical circles under their eyes. They would have laughed, if that wouldn't have hurt so much. ***** Sarah and Sandi got off the bus together at the small airfield from which each girl would be shuttled to larger airports for the main leg of their respective trips home. After a few last-minute instructions -- and a hug neither wanted to end -- they were on their separate flights. Sarah-as-Sandra landed at Intercontinental Airport first. She'd taken the opportunity aboard her flight to study Sandi's picture of their father, Matt. Matthew Farber was still a young man at 33, but weathered somewhat from his hard work over the years to ensure the success of Farber Farms. Matt always wanted better than a tiny cattle ranch that did little more than supply restaurants around Cypress, so he worked every aspect of the herds he could: from beef to milk, from leather to furniture, from cat food to dog food. It took several years for Farber to hire, one at a time, the help it took to even consider taking time out for himself and his daughter. Now he and Sandi were closer than ever, though he still wasn't sure exactly how it started. She'd been desperate one afternoon for release, feeling a warmth between her legs that she was too frustrated to describe. Oh, sure, he was just as much at fault, too, for his failure to say no. Today, however, he had no regrets. No regrets at all. That was especially true when he saw his daughter walk into the terminal at Intercontinental, looking for all the world like a lost puppy. Sarah's eyes brightened when she finally spotted her father for the first time. A big, toothy grin spread across her porcelain face; her eyes began to water uncontrollably. Frozen in time for only a moment, but seeming an eternity, Sarah finally dropped her carry-on bag and ran full speed into her father, almost knocking the both of them down. "Whoa, beautiful, I'm happy to see you too. I sure missed ya every moment o' those six weeks!" "I've missed YOU my whole l--" Sarah started, then caught herself. "Missed ya too, Pa!" she finished, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. "Whassa matter, li'l filly?" Sarah-as-Sandra almost told her father the truth right there. "I-- I s'pose it was kinda long, huh?" "You don't have to go back next year if'n ya don't want to," Matt said, genuine concern furrowing an already weathered-beyond-his-years brow. I'm happy Mum sent me to THIS one, Sarah thought. "I dunno, we'll see next year. It WAS kinda fun!" she said. "What'cha say we head to the ranch?" Matt walked over to Sandi's bag, then put an arm around his daughter. Sarah had to resist the urge to stiffen as her father's hand brushed across her young breast. Perhaps it was an accident, she thought. ***** Heathrow certainly was intimidating to a young girl, and Sandi-as-Sarah was no different. Mostly business travelers and tourists were here, and quite a lot of them at that. Sandi had no picture of Sarah's butler, who no doubt was waiting patiently by the exit. "Sarah?" called a voice next to her. "Where are you going?" Sandi started, then looked up and into the face of her grandfather. At least, Sarah had brought a picture of him, thank God. "Granddad? Oh m'god, sorry. I-- I was expecting..." The momentary loss of her accent slipped by Michael Lotrice. "Colin? No, I talked your mother into coming to fetch you myself. "Ready to go home?" More'n ya'll ever know, Sandi thought. "I'm ready." The pair shared a hug, and off they went. ***** Matt pulled up to the ranch house, and he and 'Sandi' unloaded the truck, carrying her luggage inside. "Gawd, Sandi, I missed you so much I thought I was gonna burst." You have no idea, Sarah thought. They ran back into a bear hug, and Matt kissed his daughter passionately. Sarah broke off, stunned. "What..." she started, then thought better of it. "What's wrong?" Matt asked. "Um, nothin'... ya just s'prised me is all." "Hm, mebbe six weeks wasn't such a good idea," Matt mumbled, shaking his head, a wry grin on his face. He grabbed his daughter's bags, and left for her room. Sarah stood, jaw agape, wondering if Sandi and their dad always kissed this way, or if he was just REAL happy she was back. Not that it was bad, mind you, she mused. I might just try that again. Dad IS awfully handsome. At least he's not licking my... ***** Sandi's hand trembled as she reached for the front door. "Well, go on, your mother's waiting for you," Michael admonished. Well, here goes, she thought. The door clicked open almost by itself, and Sandi-as-Sarah padded slowly inside the foyer, more nervous than she could ever remember. Granddad smiled, kissed the top of her head, and turned toward the study. Just at that moment, Karen Lotrice turned another corner, coming face to face with a daughter she hadn't seen in more than eleven years. Not that she could tell. "Sarah! You're home!" "Oh, my-- MUM!" Sandi couldn't help herself, losing all sense of decorum as she ran into her mother's arms, sobbing uncontrollably, the flood gates that were her tear ducts open to full blast. "Finally!" she added, under her breath. "I've missed you, too, darling. Perhaps six weeks is a bit too long, after all." "No, no, I'm alright," Sandi quickly tried to regain her composure, wiping her reddened eyes. "It... it just seemed like I would never-- I mean, like camp would never end." "Did you not like it?" Karen asked, concerned. "Oh, no, Mum, I loved it. Met a nice girl there, too. Well, not at first, she-- well, never mind. I'm just so glad to see you!" Sandi finished, the tears welling up again. They hugged, hard. Chapter Eight 'Sarah's Surprise' "Damn you, Sandra Farber, why didn't you tell me?" Sandi hesitated. It was day three so far of her life as Sarah Lotrice and, as uneventful as things were in general, she'd been so busy doing things with her mother that she scarcely thought of the goings-on back home. Now, the real Sarah was demanding to know the truth. "I-- I'm sorry," Sandi finally whispered back to the voice on the other end of the telephone. "Why didn't you tell me?" Sarah repeated. "How long have you and our father been... been...?" "Aw, shee-it. What happened?" Sarah began to summarize the past two days. ***** The first night had gone smoothly enough, all things considered. After dinner, Matt and 'Sandi' had left the kitchen a mess and cuddled in front of the TV, watching the Astros' game. Matt's hand was all over his daughter, running his fingers through her hair, rubbing her neck, eventually finding her growing young breast. Sarah again had to resist the urge to stiffen up or to move his hand from her personal place. She relaxed, and had to admit it actually felt pretty good. Her breathing quickened; a warmness washed over her, starting in her crotch. Sarah felt a stirring in her father's pants as well, and she knew from her reading that he was becoming aroused. That made her nervous again; how far will he go? she'd wondered. Matt then slid his hand down Sarah's belly (not as taut as he remembered; too much camp food, perhaps?) to her hidden treasure. "Da--" Sarah caught herself. "Don't, Pa!" "S'matter, li'l filly?" Thinking fast, Sarah-as-Sandra answered, "Um... I just got home, silly. There's lots'a time." Matt looked at her funny, then went back to massaging her immature, but beautiful, breasts. In her room later, mulling over the evening's events, Sarah had jumped at the sound of her father's voice. "Ain't'cha comin' to bed?" Damn, she thought. I'm not ready for this. "Uh... I need a little time to get used to bein' back home, is all. You hold your horses. I'll let'cha know." Matthew Farber looked again at his daughter like she'd lost her mind. Resigned, he'd slept alone that night. Sarah didn't sleep much at all. The next day was spent shopping and generally hanging out together. Matt hadn't tried anything, but his impatience had begun to show. That night, when 'Sandi' begged off again, Matt lost it. "What the hell's got into you, anyway? Hell, YOU started this. Don't tell me you wanna stop, 'cause you've been enjoying ridin' me as much as I am. Dammit, what's wrong?" Sarah almost told Matt the truth then and there. "I'm... I'm just on my monthly time, and I guess I'm just in a mood, is all." "Your 'monthly time'?" Matt repeated. "Where'd you go, to camp, or college?" Sarah's lips turned up in a nervous smile, not knowing how to answer. "We've always been together even when you're OTR, right? When was the last time you slept in your own bed, anyway?" OTR? She'd have to think about that one. "A while, I guess," answering the question. "A while, you guess? Damn straight," her father said, his frustration showing. "I'm sorry," Sarah-as-Sandra said, meaning every word. "I'll... I'll be there in a minute," she finished, bringing a softer look and even a slight smile from Matt. "I've... uh, got to use the toilet first." That funny look crossed Matt's features again. The toilet? Good lord, Sarah said to herself moments later when a trip to her sister's bathroom revealed only tampons. Damn, I've never even put a finger in there yet, much less father's penis. How am I going to pull this off? Or, well, push this in, I suppose, she finished wryly. Lubing the applicator with her saliva, Sarah leaned over the edge of the toilet as she'd seen her mum do, and began a gentle, even pressure. It didn't hurt as much as she'd expected, and she actually had pushed the tampon in a few inches when a sharp pain hit. Sarah cursed herself for forgetting her hymen. "Shit, what do I do now?" She looked around the bathroom for any ideas, and sunk back down to the toilet when she saw nothing. "Damn, all I need is a string, really..." Sarah almost slapped herself, it was so simple. She retrieved the scissors she'd seen in the drawer moments ago, and snipped the string from the tampon, flushing the rest down. Wetting her finger with her spit, she felt a moment's naughtiness and slipped only the digit inside, sliding in and out, probing her inner regions. The new feeling WAS wonderful, after all, and she wet a second finger. The pair went in with a bit more difficulty, but little pain. A girl actually could get into this, she thought. But, it was time for other matters, and Sarah put a knot into one end of the string, hoping that would be enough, and slipped it inside. Cuddled with her father moments later, she let Matt slide his hands all over her near-naked body, only her knickers away from her birthday suit. He looked thoughtfully into her eyes, relishing her closeness without being overtly sexual for perhaps their first time. "Is there somethin' you're not telling me?" Sarah almost jumped, a guilty look greeting her 'Pa'. A million things went through her mind in that instant; she almost said something about six weeks away giving her time to think, and perhaps they should stop for awhile, but something she couldn't quite describe choked off the words. On the other hand, what else would be believable? "Pa," she started hesitantly, "You know how I get sometimes when I'm..." Just then, the meaning of OTR hit her, right on cue. Thank you, she thought to no one in particular. "...on the rag," she finished. As if to appease him, she continued: "It's almost over. I'm sure I'll be myself faster'n a goat at suppertime." The improvisation worked. Matt smiled, and leaned in to kiss his 12- year-old daughter, softly at first, then with a bit more passion. Sarah- as-Sandra let him this time, and was surprised to realize she actually was responding. Her dad's tongue slipped into her open mouth, and she didn't even flinch, returning his French kiss instead with all the passion she could muster. Not that she had to look very far. This isn't so bad, Sarah thought, as Matt slowly worked his wet kisses down her neck, to her shoulder, to a breast that was slightly larger than he remembered. Geez, what six weeks won't do, he thought. Sarah's thoughts were nearly overwhelmed by the flood of incredible sensations to her brain, straight from her dad's mouth and tongue on her young tit. Oh, God, this is amazing, she thought. Her back arched even farther when Matt reached the other breast, her hands finding the back of his head. Soft, wet kisses down her belly followed. Matt wasn't imagining things; his daughter wasn't as lean as she used to be. "I guess that camp food's pretty good, huh?" "Mmm," came the response. Matthew Farber smiled. Kissing and licking a line to his young daughter's treasure, Sarah forgot for the moment all about her little ruse, until her father began peeling off her panties. "Dad, no!" Oops. Damn, she thought, father's bound to guess my secret now. Caught up in his lust for the most beautiful creature on the planet, at least in her father's eyes, Matthew missed the parental reference. Sarah barely skipped a beat. "I'm not quite ready yet, okay?" "Don't worry, I'm not stickin' anything anywhere," he said with a lewd grin. "Except my tongue." Matt dove in, concentrating on the little bump at the top of her slit, and avoiding the area anywhere near the string hanging obscenely from her little hole. Sarah's come slammed into her in seconds, never having felt anything like that before. Panting uncontrollably, she couldn't move while her father continued a much slower beat with his tongue, letting her afterglow linger. My God, Sarah thought. Now I know why Sandi wanted to try that... Matt scooted up on the bed and rolled onto his back. "Your turn," he said. Oh, no, surely he can't mean-- God, I've never done that before, Sarah thought. He'll know something's wrong. At that moment, an idea hit her. Mentally patting herself on the back for her improvisational skills, Sarah rolled between her father's legs and took his raging prick into her hand. Exploring it as if it was her first time (after all, it WAS), Sarah-as-Sandra made puppy-dog eyes at her father and said, in her best little-girl voice, "But, daddy, I don't know how. Will you show me?" Matt shook his head and chuckled. Okay, I'll play your little game, he thought. "First, stroke it up and down with your hand. Go slow." Sarah complied, thrilling in spite of herself at the first feel of a hard penis in her hand. "Like this?" "Yeah, li'l filly, you got it. Now, lick my balls with your tongue." Sarah shuddered. Oh, quit complaining, she admonished herself. You got yourself into this. Sarah licked at the wrinkled, hairy skin and found it wasn't so bad. "Oh, yeah," Matt moaned. "Now, lick up my cock to the top." Sarah dragged her tongue along the underside, stopping when she reached the spongy head. "Like that?" "Good, baby, but do it again slow-like, and flick your tongue up and down real quick." Sarah tried again, enjoying the feel of her father's seven-inch meat. Once back at the head, she swirled her tongue around it, getting the feel of what she thought she was supposed to do. "Now, suck it," Matt commanded. Sarah-as-Sandra skipped a beat, then went back into her little-girl act. "Suck it? How do I do that?" she asked, all innocence. "Like a lollipop." Sarah let the head of her own father's prick slide between her lips, still not fully comprehending what she was doing. "Good," Matt continued the game, "now use your tongue while sliding that big cock in and out of that sweet mouth." "Oh, you want me to suck your cock, huh?" Sarah repeated the nasty tone of her father's voice, a sly grin on her face. "Yeah, suck my cock, li'l filly." Sandi's identical twin slid almost half her dad's penis into her mouth, using her tongue to lather her lubricating spit around Matt's flesh pole. "Faster," he rasped. "Go deeper." Sarah tried to take more into her mouth, but she gagged as the hot head bumped against her throat. "Sorry," she coughed. "Out'a practice, I guess." "Take it a little deeper at a time, c'mon, you remember." Oops. "Oh, sorry, I screwed up your little game. I won't forget any more." Neither will I, Sarah thought, not quite disgusted. Although I suppose my time had come, I'd rather have done this at my own leisure. She resumed her ministrations on her father's cock, taking a little more in her mouth with each stroke, until she actually felt it slip a little into her throat. Fighting off the urge to gag, she kept at it, until her dad's admittedly beautiful cock disappeared, his pubic hair tickling her nose. "Oh, fuck, attagirl. God damn, you're so good to me!" Sarah smiled; or, as much as she could with a dick in her mouth. It took only a few more deep strokes before Matt announced, "I'm cumming! Shit, here it comes, baby girl!" Vaguely aware of her grandfather's books, Sarah knew he was going to shoot some semen out of the end of his penis, but instinctively wondered if she'd choke on it. She had no idea that Matt hadn't taken matters into his own hands for six weeks. Thinking quickly, Sarah kept only the head of Matt's cock in her mouth and jacked it with her hands. The hot, thick liquid almost burned the inside of her mouth as jet after jet of his hot seed filled it up completely. Sarah swallowed quickly, and more came. She swallowed again and then a third time, wincing at the taste, until it was all gone. Matt relaxed back onto the bed, and a warmth in Sarah built up again. Not knowing what else to do, she began a gentle sucking on her father's softening cock while slipping a finger inside herself. It wasn't long before she came again, reality washing away with the sheer force of her orgasm. Her father had to pull her back up onto her pillow. "God, I love you so much, baby," Matt said, gently kissing his 12-year- old sex fiend goodnight, cuddling in preamble to sleep. Sarah was out already. ***** "That was last night." -- End of Part One -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+