Twins

Twins

Over the years, I've read a number of stories here about how husbands can't tell their wives from their identical twin sister (or triplets, in a couple of great examples). I LOVE those stories, for the setup. However.... the first couple of paragraphs of this story might as well be in these notes; they're 100% true and correct, with only names changed (and one set of those not changed!) from my own life. And to top it off... I >DID< date twins in High School, first one, then her twin. I nearly even asked the second twin to marry me, until I found out she'd been cheating on me for the final year of our four year courtship. That's AFTER I'd dated her twin sister for a year, so five years with the pair, and that's one of the inspirations for this story. So, with that note....

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So, you know all those stories about how you can't tell identical twins apart? I call bullshit. Oh, they can be great stories, but I've known twins. In second grade, I met my first pair, a couple of young guys my own age... I could instantly tell them, Peter and Paul, apart, and Paul became a decent friend for most of my school years, although I never really liked Peter much. A year later, the first set of twin girls joined the fray... and while it was confusing for a week or so, especially when they were wearing the same clothes, after a few weeks, most of the kids could easily enough tell Kathy and Karen apart. Three years later, a set of identical triplets joined the fray, Susan, Sheila, and Sandra. Sheila was in a number of my classes, and I could always tell her from Susan and Sandra. I have to admit, since I only ever shared one class all the way through the end of High School with Sandra, and none, ever, with Susan, that it was harder to tell those two apart, and I still made mistakes until the year before we graduated. Sharon and Shirley joined the fray in my Freshman year, two pretty brunettes who made my heartbeat race, when other middle schools started joining our group, and Charity and Chastity joined for our Junior year, though they were Sophomores who transferred in from out of state. Yeah, I went to a VERY big High School; we had nearly 900 in my senior class alone, And yes, out of that almost 900, we had two sets of twin girls, one set of twin boys, and one set of triplet girls, and a set of twin girls I knew in the grade behind me. There were a few sets of fraternal twins, too, and two other sets of twins, per my old High School yearbook, in lower grades who I didn't meet, or at least don't remember, but that's now a total of over 3500 students.

Maybe there was, in fact, something in the water the year so many twins came about, and yeah, it was a DAMN big high school class; we were packed like sardines, and in the years since, the school district has split the students among three different high schools, including my alma mater. It was the biggest in the state the year before my class, and was only the second biggest by a handful the year I graduated; the biggest was literally the next high school over, which ended up being split among three a few years later, as the furious building spree of schools continued.

All that's to say one thing... identical twins aren't. If you get to know them, it doesn't take the deepest, most intimate knowledge to be able to eventually tell them apart. A freckle here, paler skin there, this one weighs a few pounds more (and you can tell), this one's hair parts more towards the center of their head, this one has a slight limp compared to his brother because someone slid into him and broke his ankle back in fifth grade little league baseball (sorry, again, Paul). It's little things, and someone who doesn't spend any reasonable amount of time around a set of twins might be confused... but anyone who knew them could tell them apart, most of the time even from a distance. For example, Peter, Paul, and I all went to the same college after High School; I could tell whether it was Peter or Paul from across the quad even when they were sitting down (and they dressed alike). Never made a mistake.

And then, of course, as I alluded to, their was Sharon and Shirley.

They were both five foot three, dark brown shoulder length hair, the bluest eyes I think I've ever seen, relatively well formed, with a prominent, but not overpowering, bust, thin waist, and legs that went all the way to the ground. That said, they were my cup of tea, but they may not have been everyone's. They both had a somewhat nasally voice, both tended to laugh just a bit too loud for the wrong jokes, and too softly for the right ones, if you know what I mean. Neither dressed to stun, but instead dressed smartly. Both could come across as "too smart" (hey, I'll say it now... the triplets were in the top ten of our class, blonde and brilliant, while Sharon and Shirley were maybe top third, so I'm not kidding that the girls who made MY heart race might have just been "good looking enough" for most of the guys... we had some damn good looking girls in my class!)

I met and got to know Sharon first of the two, late in our Freshman year, and into our Sophomore year. Sharon and I shared some classes together, and kept getting pushed into the same groups for group projects (Matthews and Miller, it was all about the alphabet). We hit it off, I sucked my teenage insecurity up, and asked her to go out with me towards the end of our Sophomore year. During that time, I didn't have any classes with Shirley, but we hung out occasionally when I was around Sharon, even double dating one time.

Of the two, Shirley and I seemed slightly more simpatico than Sharon and I; when we talked about music, Shirley knew the Beatles better, Sharon was more into Pop; I'm a Beatles fan. Sharon didn't "get it" when I mentioned that some animals were more equal than others; Shirley laughed and knew it was a quote from Animal Farm, and even called the woman who'd triggered it (a typical type we'd call a "Karen" now) an overdressed pig, in a way making an additional pun of it. For the entire time we bantered back and forth, Sharon seemed to at first be bored, then annoyed at the conversation.

And one of the things that struck me was that some twins (and the triplets) went out of their way to look as much alike as possible. They would wear, and interchange, the same clothes (so just because one wore a specific T-shirt, for example, didn't mean the other wouldn't wear the exact same T-shirt a week later. Some twins kept their hair the same style, same length, etc. They went out of their way to make sure everyone knew they were twins. Sharon and Shirley, and some of the others, didn't. They did the opposite; Sharon kept her hair in a short bob, while Shirley let her hair go longer, past her shoulders. Sharon like to wear dangling earrings; Shirley preferred studs. Shirley had a white streak (box made) on her right side, kind of a young Elvira look; Sharon liked to have a small colored streak on her left. In other words, everyone could easily tell them apart. I made no direct references to the other, subtler signs. It just never came up. For many years, the girls just assumed the reason I could so easily tell them apart was because they took pains to look different.

Like I said, Shirley and I seemed to have more in common than her twin and I did, even though I was dating Sharon. Now, that's not to say that Sharon and I didn't have an attraction. Remember that heart a-flutter thing that was going on? Beating heart? Something about her really revved my engine, and attracted me. The question, while I was dating her, was is it just physical, or whether it was more.

After a year, in the summer before our Senior year, one of my buddies and I, Tommy Edgars, took me aside and asked me if I was serious with Sharon. As it turned out, he and she had ALSO shared some classes, and while she wasn't dating him, she was flirting with him, and he was interested. And at that moment, I realized I didn't mind that much. Oh sure, she was "my girl", but... I realized I was more attracted to her twin than to her, in the end. And it wasn't even about the flirting; I'd flirted with girls in front of her, and she with boys, but we'd never crossed any lines; I knew, and Tommy confirmed, that it had only been flirting; heck, I'd seen her do it a few times with Tommy at a few of the parties we had gone to.

So I sat down with Sharon, alone, in her living room. I'm sure she was expecting something slightly different from what happened.

"Sharon, I like you a lot. I like you very much. But I'm not in love with you. I enjoy our time together, and value you. I don't want to stop you from finding some guy who might actually love you. I don't want to be the albatross around your neck." I threw in the albatross remark because we'd studied the Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner the year before in English class, and it had led to some hot and heavy make out sessions before being interrupted, normally by Shirley, before I could get further.

I know now, for a fact, and suspected it then, that I heard a snicker from the entry way, right around the corner from the living room but out of sight, when Sharon replied, "Huh? I don't understand. What albatross?"

That wasn't what I expected. I expected arguing, shouting, tears, a slap, her beating my chest. And what I got was "What albatross?"

"Tommy Edgars asked me if he could ask you out. He knows we've been going out for a while, and he's a good guy. He wants to ask you out. I told him... I told him it was ok with me. Please don't hold it against him if you're mad at me." I pleaded.

"So... Davey, are you breaking up with me?" Sharon asked, finally starting to understand.

"Yes... and no. We might still go out. I just am offering you the opportunity to say yes when he asks you. And I might ask someone else out, too." I weakly offered.

"Who? Who's the girl trying to horn in?" Sharon demanded.

"Well, nobody. Everyone likes you, and they wouldn't do that without talking with you, like Tommy talked with me. But... there is someone I kind of like that I figured I'd ask out."

"What's her name?" Sharon demanded. "Who's this girl you like more than me?"

"Well, I was kind of thinking of maybe asking Shirley out. She's a great gal, and I mean, you two are twins... but I didn't want to stop Tommy from asking you out, and Shirley and I get on pretty well." I know I heard a bit of a gasp. Like I said, I know, today, that someone was listening from the front entry foyer. Not to get too far ahead of myself, Shirley admitted it to me on our honeymoon, three years later.

"Look, we'll double date. You and Tommy, me and Shirley, if you put in a word for me. If anything goes wrong, you just mention albatross as a high sign, and I'll get you and Shirley away from Tommy, and home. Deal?" I offered.

"Tommy Edgars, huh? He's kind of a hunk. Ok. But if he turns out to be a bust date, you'll owe me and I'll repossess you from Shirley." Sharon agreed.

During the time I'd been dating Sharon, Shirley had gone through a few different boyfriends. A few of them had been decent guys, even one or two of my friends, but for the most part, she'd dated the lower echelon guys, the stoners, the below average guys, the 'Also-Ran' of the High School. It was a big school. Competition for the better girls, and the better guys, could be tough. I mean, I wasn't exactly the richest guy, the smartest guy, the best looking guy, the biggest jock... but I was well above average in two of the four, above average in one, and average in the other, and there were still girls that made it plain they wanted me to ask them out (of course, some of that may have been that I supposedly got good reviews as a gentleman, fun, and an interesting date. Plus, supposedly, I was a hell of a good kisser. My arm is sore just from patting myself on the back for that one.)

But all that meant that even above-average girls could be frozen out of the creme-de-la-creame of choices. It's bizarre, because it was the exact same phenomenon I've heard to describe how difficult it can be in a small High School getting dates... too much competition versus too few choices. And Shirley had been, to an extent, relegated to the C+ girls through no fault of her own.

I ended up calling the house again later that evening, after giving Sharon some time to prep, and letting Tommy know she was expecting a call from him, and their mom, Ellen, was surprised when I asked for Shirley instead of Sharon. Shirley must have been waiting by the phone, though, because it was less than ten seconds after she said she would get her that Shirley was on the phone.

Long story short, the double date never heard the word 'Albatross' mentioned. Tommy was ga-ga over Sharon, and she ate it up. In the meantime, Shirley had a smirk on her face the entire time I was with her.

"You know, I'm the one who put a bug in Tommy's ear that Sharon liked him." Shirley confided to me, quietly, late in the evening, when the two wandered off to dance.

"Huh? She didn't seem too interested until I kinda told her I could be her escape valve if the date didn't go well." I questioned.

"Well, I had to get it going. I knew she thought he was hot. I mean, he's alright, but..." Shirley countered.

"You sneaky girl. Was this a ploy to make a move on your sister's beau?" I smilingly asked. The Alfred E. Neumann-esque 'Who, me?' response was all I needed to confirm my realization.

It was a double wedding three years later. Tommy had gone on to get a job with his dad, who owned a Toyota dealership in town, and I'd gotten a good job in IT, working computers, after getting an associates degree and some certifications. There weren't any "Best Men" or "Bride's Maids" since each sister was the other's Bride Maid, and Tommy and I were each other's best men. We walked out of the church David and Shirley Miller, and Thomas and Sharon Edgars, although we did NOT go to the same locations for the Honeymoon; Shirley and I went to Aruba, while Tommy and Sharon went to Cancun.

All in all, it was a wonderful experience, learning from each other the joys of lovemaking, the sweet scent of arousal, the taste of her breasts, the joys of her sex. We had both been virgins on our wedding day (and for that matter, so had Tommy and Sharon), but nothing was off the table for our two weeks in the hot sun. The first few times, Shirley's blow jobs were... less than good. By the end of the second week, with diligent and conscientious practice, they were incredible. Likewise, it took me a few times before I found the man in the rowboat, and she even stopped me one time saying that I had to be doing it wrong during those first few days. By the end of the second week, she was screaming my name and I was getting looks when we staggered out of the room to see the sights and just rest. I heard more than once the word "Honeymooners" and a knowing nod follow us around, from total strangers. Yeah, it was incredible.

All good things must end, and all too soon our time in Aruba was done, and we returned home. I made Shirley wait in the car (air conditioning still running) while I ran the bags in, then came back out, lifted her out of the car, and carried her across the threshold of our apartment as we settled in to our new life.

Even from those first few weeks back home, life settled into a kind of a routine. Sex was almost every night, and pretty much every morning, as newly weds often are. Friday nights was "date night"; I'd take Shirley out for dinner, and try to find something, normally inexpensive, to do entertainment-wise. We'd typically call it a night by 11ish, and make love until 2 or 3 in the morning, sleeping in until 10ish Saturday morning. Saturday night was also a date night, but we'd double date with Tommy and Sharon. Tommy had a decent chunk more money (they'd moved directly into a house, bought and paid for by his dad, and so had no rent or mortgage, even if they didn't make much different than we did by paycheck), so Tommy often partially subsidized the double dates; he picked up the dinner checks three out of every four times we went out together, and I picked it up the other time. He confided in me that he felt he owed me for letting him have a crack at Sharon, and besides, we were brothers now.

Everyday after we got back from our honeymoon, and I mean every day, Shirley and Sharon got on the phone to each other. It didn't matter if it was date night (though those tended to be short), or if we were going to see them in a couple hours (on Saturdays), or even if we'd already seen them that day (as sometimes happened on Sunday evenings, if we'd gone to see their parents for dinner). Every day, they'd be on the phone. Most of the time, Shirley would talk in front of me, so I quickly came to realize that the two of them shared even fairly intimate details of each other's lives, including our sex life. That was the almost the start of our first actual married fight, until I realized that Shirley was raving about my skills, size, and performance. I didn't think I was particularly large (7 inches, two inches girth), and all I knew about my skills was that Shirley seemed happy with them, and I was happy with what was happening.

It was maybe seven months after we'd gotten back from our honeymoon. I'd been out of the room, but in the kitchen, when I heard the start of the conversation, and my dander went up.

"Oh yeah, Davey and I do it three times a night most nights. And it's just so wonderful when... yeah, three times a night. No, night... We don't have time for more than a quickie in the mornings most days. Most nights.... well, don't you and... yes, most nights. Don't you and Tommy do it most nights?... Yeah, see?...One and done? What about... in the butt? Well, Davey likes... ew.... yeah, Davey cleans himself if we do that before we do anything. He says he wants to be able to kiss me when we make love... yeah... well, yeah, I did that once. I didn't like it, and Davey didn't seem to think it was special, though... every time? Like I was saying, Davey didn't think it was special, but he'll do it for me <giggle> before we... well, that's how he gets me ready there. It's not like I'm not always ready in the front! <giggle>... yeah, three times a night, normally.... I guess we start with him eating me, then I blow him... yeah, he eats me out... took him a bit to figure it out, but oh my god! Yeah. So, like I was saying.... like I was saying, I blow him, but he stops me and finishes in my pussy. Then I blow him.. yeah, we tried that once, in Aruba, he didn't like that, though I admit it was hot. Anyway, then I blow him hard again, then he... no, I don't mind the taste.... so, like I said, I blow him hard again, he licks me there, and then.... yeah, he sticks his tongue in there, too. Like I said, I didn't like doing it, but he enjoys it and it makes it nice and slick... yep, then he does me in the butt.... He's how big? Damn, girl, how do you get that in you? Sounds like he's got Davey beat to hell size wise, shame he's a one and done. So after, Davey cleans himself, and me, up, with a washcloth, and then I blow him to completion, just a lazy, sloppy blowjob. Oh yeah, I can go on and on.... since he's come twice, it takes a while.... yeah, like an all-day sucker! <giggle>,,, but you need to make him clean himself up with a washcloth if he does that, before you suck him... Look, I love Davey to hell and back, but it'll be a cold day in hell before I suck his cock after it's been in my butt without washing it. You need to put a stop to that!"

So, it sounded like I was able to perform more, but Tommy had the bigger cock per the two sisters comparing notes. Like I said, spilling out the details of Shirley's and my sex life was something that got me angry, but at least it sounded like I was getting the better end of the quantity and quality, just not size. Never the less, I was a bit pissed that she was sharing such intimate details, even if it was her twin sister. But in the interest of marital harmony, I sucked it up, and let it go.