Zara and Zoe Pt. 01

Any resemblance to persons living or dead in my stories are purely accidental. All characters are made up from my own warped imagination. The story belongs to me, so please do not use it without my permission. As always the tale contains descriptions of many kinds of sexual activity, so if you are under 18, or those kind of things offend you, please move on. As always this story is set in a utopian World where STD's and unwanted pregnancies do not exist.

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Zoe

As Zoe sprinted up the stairs her long auburn hair unravelled from the loose bun she had wound it in for the umpteenth time. Frustratedly she swept it out of her eyes and in the process nearly dropped the satchel she was grasping under her arm. She had heard the train approaching as she had waited a seemingly interminably long time for the machine to churn out her paper ticket.

As she reached the platform she heard the annoying beeping that signalled that the doors were closing. Crossing the platform at World record speed she dived through the doors and landed on her knees in the carriage at the feet of an elderly, white haired gentleman. Zoe grimaced as she looked down at the tear in her new "Holiday" jeans, but luckily the skin was not broken, so that was the only good thing to come out of this debacle.

She scrambled around on the floor collecting the papers that had spilled from her satchel when she landed. The kindly old man helped her to her feet once they were all once more securely packed away in the worn leather bag she had used since her school days.

As she collapsed into a window seat she cursed Maurice pompous arse Wilkinson for the millionth time that day for delaying her departure from the meeting. Zoe was a relief aid supervisor for a non-profit aid organisation. It was the first time in her whole life that it was her giving the orders and not being told what to do. It was slightly unsettling for her as she had always been more of a follower and nine point nine times out of ten Zoe would do as she was told.

Sitting there once her breathing had regulated she replayed the morning. Maurice was still pissed at being overlooked for the position, and even more pissed that they had given it to a bloody woman. At the start of the meeting Zoe had made it clear she had to leave by twelve as she was off for her birthday long weekend, but Maurice had purposely asked one fucking stupid question after another, and the meeting had overrun by nearly twenty minutes, which ended with her mad dash to the station.

Zoe automatically blamed herself for not being more assertive. Tomorrow was her birthday, and as always she was off on holiday with her twin sister and both of their husbands. Not a real holiday, more a long weekend. Three nights in Corfu at a very luxurious hotel that her sister Zara had booked. It was actually more than she and her husband Ian could have afforded but Ian had told her not to worry. Her thirtieth birthday only happened once, so they had paid the seven hundred pounds and lived on bread and cheese for a month.

Zoe had a little secret smile to herself. She loved her husband of five years. He was everything she could dream of. A hunk of a fireman with a body muscled in all the right places. With his close cropped blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes and chiselled features Zoe knew she had hooked a handsome man that many of her female friends envied.

It wasn`t just his looks though. He was kind and patient and appeared to love her with all his heart, even though she couldn`t work out why. Her smile broadened as she remembered another thing that made him the best husband in the World. He was a fantastic lover. Zoe actually let out a truncated snort as she recalled their morning lovemaking, that had of course made her late for her meeting.

She had woken up before him. The window was open, but their flat was still stifling in the August heatwave. Ian had been lying on his back, the covers laying in a pile on the floor next to their bed. His beautiful cock was coiled in its nest of wispy blonde pubic hair. It wasn`t a huge python of a dick but a very nice five or six inches and she loved the way it bent gradually upwards as he became hard.

Ian was sleeping deeply as he had got home late after his evening shift had carried over long into the night due to a factory fire that required all hands on deck. Feeling a bit mischievous and also more than a little horny Zoe had bowed down and licked the tip of his penis and was ecstatic when it jumped a bit and began to stiffen as her tongue ran up and down its length. Ian stirred but did not waken. Zoe`s tongue continued to lick as a dog would with a marrow bone.

When his dick did that thing when he became fully erect and started to bend upwards with a deft curve in the shaft she placed her lips at the base of his glans, so the swollen head was completely in her mouth. Her tongue began to move lazily around, and she savoured his manly taste, her nostrils were filling with his scent.

Zoe closed her eyes and luxuriated in the feeling of pleasuring her man, and by extension herself. She had loved sucking cock ever since that first time with Benjamin Griffiths in the back row of the local cinema.

The picture house had been empty as the film had received crap reviews, so they had nearly four rows to themselves. They weren`t there to see the film anyway, just for some teenage necking. Well that was what Zoe thought until Ben had undone his trousers and stated directly, "Zoe. Suck my dick!"

Zoe had done as she was told without question. She took a few seconds to look at her first erect prick and the sprouts of his pubic hair above it before opening wide and putting it in her mouth. She sucked it like a thick straw as she didn't know any better. After twenty seconds she was rewarded with a large mouthful of warm, sticky spunk. She thought about spitting it out onto the floor, but it tasted quite nice. A mixture of salt with a faint hint of olives she thought. She swallowed it and relished the feeling as the viscous liquid slipped down her throat. It reminded her of an oyster she had been given by her parents once on their yearly foreign holidays.

The film was long and boring and teenage boys have terrific powers of recovery. Over the next two and a half hours Zoe repeated her new found skill another three times. Ben was also the first boy she allowed to get a stinky finger with her as he fingered her roughly and enthusiastically in between her blow jobs. By the time the film had finished a eighteen year old Zoe had a stomach full of semen and had experienced her first tingling body that she later found out to be an orgasm. Even now Zoe climaxed completely silently, although her body would quiver and twitch for many minutes after.

Her memory of that evening with Ben caused her to chuckle, then her mind went back to this morning. Zoe only realised that Ian had woken when she felt his two meaty hands grab her auburn hair and force her downwards, his dick thrusting further and further until she felt the head resting at the entrance to her throat. Adjusting her body position and opening her throat wide she swallowed the last inch of Ian`s manhood down into her throat.

Ian moaned his approval and Zoe felt a sense of pride at giving her lover such pleasure. Needless to say Ben`s wasn`t the last dick she`d sucked. In fact she had got quite a reputation with the local boys for doing the dirty if they ordered her to.

"Suck me baby!" Ian whispered breathlessly from above her and Zoe went to work using all the expertise she had accumulated from sucking over one hundred dicks.

She had actually kept a little diary at home that detailed name, date, and place of every boy she had ever blown. There were also notes detailing taste, texture and length of time required to illicit her mouthful. On the day before she married Ian she had had a ceremonial burning of the dog eared book, but only after counting the one hundred and thirty seven names in the book and grinning at some of her comments. As she read the names she could picture vividly exactly what had happened each time, and by the time she had finished reading, her trusty purple Rabbit had induced three very satisfactory orgasms.

Zoe was only too happy to comply with her husband's wishes. Bobbing up and down until he made that funny squealing noise that he always made when he came. Zoe had guzzled all the seed he could provide, taking extra care to clean up with her tongue afterwards to leave his penis as spotless as the day he was born, if not cleaner.

It wasn`t the blow job that had her running for her early morning train though. Ian had insisted on repaying her, spending nearly twenty minutes between her thighs. His tongue had played sweet music on her labia, both inner and outer, before concentrating on her throbbing clit. Zoe had come twice, then her hunk of a husband had picked her up physically, spun her around and thrust powerfully into her pussy as Zoe knelt panting on the bed. He was a wonderful lover, varying tempo, depth, and angle of his strokes to generate the maximum joy for Zoe. By the time he squealed for the second time that morning and Zoe felt his ejaculation splash against her inner walls she was a quivering, sweaty mess on the tangled bed sheets.

She was in such a state that she had to have a quick cold shower, even though she had showered before going to bed in anticipation of her early start. This meant she missed her planned train by a good ten minutes and had to wait for the next one. Then fucking Marice happened and now at last she was heading up to town to meet her sister.

Zara was four minutes older and had always been the dominant one. This had led to Zoe being involved in more than a few incidents that were never her fault, but somehow it was always her that suffered. Zoe loved her sister and would literally do anything Zara told her to do, much to Ian`s chagrin.

It had started when they were both sent away to a strict boarding school just after their eighteenth birthdays, and a few weeks after her cinema visit with Ben. Both of Zoe`s parents had been in the diplomatic cadre. Her father was a quite high level diplomat, so when he got posted to Sudan Zoe and Zara were dispatched to High Towers in Berkshire to finish there last year of school and take their A levels. The school was run by the sadistic headmistress Miss. Bowers. It was Zara that had got them into all kinds of trouble whilst they were there. Zoe sighed as she reminisced about their time there as the train rumbled through the countryside towards London.

They had only been at the school a week when Ms. Bowers caught Zara smoking behind the science block. As always Zoe had been with her. Not smoking, but she was still the one with the pack of Rothmans in her pocket. The two girls had been dragged to Ms. Bowers study and then spanked. Ms. Bowers was an evil bitch of a dyke according to school gossip, and Zoe and Zara`s experience that day only reinforced that rumour.

Zoe was the first to be punished. Bowers had bent her over her massive oak desk. Flicking her short tartan skirt up onto her pristine white blouse. The crazy bitch had then pulled down Zoe`s plain cotton panties and beaten here severely with a long ruler on her bare buttocks. Zoe had accepted this without a whimper, and strangely she had even experienced that strange trembling at her core that she by now knew meant she had orgasmed.

Zara`s reaction was the complete opposite as she wailed loudly after every blow. Zoe was convinced the evil bitch beat her sister longer as her reaction was what she most enjoyed about her job. It was after this that Zara had used there identical appearance to her advantage. Whenever Zara was instructed to attend Ms. Bowers office for disciplining she would swap places with Zoe and make her go in her place.

They were after all identical twins. Zoe lost count of the number of times she was bent over that big wooden desk and flogged unmercilessly by the headmistress. Her weapons of torture progressed from rulers to a leather strap, then lastly a long bamboo cane. Zoe never cried out and always achieved that wonderful trembling release as she was being lashed, so she really didn`t resent receiving her sisters so much. Plus she would have walked through fire for Zara.

It was when they went off to university that their relationship changed subtly into what it was today. Zara would literally order Zoe to do something, and she would do exactly as her older sister instructed. This included sleeping with Zara`s then boyfriend when she herself couldn`t be bothered to. Zara would just walk naked into Zoe`s bedroom in the small flat they shared and announce something like, "I have a headache," or "I cannot be arsed." Can you go and blow Jacob and let him fuck you, then tell him to leave!" Zoe would get out of bed without a word, strip off her pyjamas and pad across the hall and let Jacob do anything he wanted to her, then she would ask him politely to go. After he had left Zoe would tell Zara he was gone before snuggling down in her own bed whilst Zara returned to hers. If it had been a really messy coupling with several wet spots on the sheets Zara would make Zoe wash the sheets and change the bedclothes while she stayed in Zoe`s bed until the bed was made fresh.

Even after all these escapades Zoe loved Zara more than life itself, and although she never showed it Zoe knew her sister felt the same way about her.

Zara was married to a work colleague of Ian's. Zara worked in the city at a large brokering firm. She was a senior partner and earnt more in one day than Zoe did in a year. She had met her husband Tom when he attended a false fire alarm call in the office. Zara had been struck by his dark good looks and obviously well maintained physique. On a whim she had given him her card and he had called her from the fire truck on the way back to the fire station. They had arranged a date for the following Friday at a pub in the city. Tom had asked if she had a friend so that he could bring along a mate, which luckily turned out to be Ian.

The rest, they say, is history. The evening ended with both girls on their knees in a dark alley sucking off their respective dates as the guys leant against a big wheelie bin. Five years ago they had enjoyed a joint wedding where their father gave them both away. Unfortunately this was practically the last thing he had done as the following month he died of a massive coronary. Their mother died of a broken heart a year later, so Zoe and Zara were now orphans. This fact brought them even closer together.

Zara was everything Zoe wasn`t. Organised and chic. Her hair was always perfect, her nails manicured and painted. Zoe hadn`t seen her in a pair of jeans since university. Zara always wore nice dresses or skirts and invariably with unladdered nylons. Zara was style epitomised, and Zoe always felt as if she should have tried a lot harder with her appearance every time they were together.

Anyway, this was why she was sitting on this stuffy fucking train and heading towards London. Zara had instructed her to meet her at a suave cocktail bar around the corner from Victoria station. Zoe had asked why they had to meet so early, their flight wasn`t until ten and they were meeting the boys at the airport and their shifts only finished at seven. They could drive together in Ian`s car. Zoe had loaded their suitcase into the boot of their car before rushing off to the station that morning. Zara had told her she would only explain her reasons when they met.

Zara

Zara was nervously chewing on a nail as she stubbed out her third cigarette in quick succession. She had arrived at the bar early as her stomach was in knots, and she needed a couple of drinks inside her before she made her pitch to Zoe. Zara knew she could sell sand to an Arab as she had been doing it her whole working life and her position and salary were testament to her abilities, but what she was going to ask of Zoe was the biggest thing she had ever demanded of her sister.

Zara downed her second vodka and tonic as she went over the plan in her head once more. This was one last desperate throw of the dice to save her marriage, and also she had to admit to having some fun herself whilst doing it.

Her mind wandered back to when she had first met Tom. She had fallen for him hook line and sinker. The gym toned six feet of pure muscle. The dark good looks with the ever present five o`clock shadow. He was charming and witty, and my God he knew what to do between the sheets. Even as she swallowed his load that first night in that dark, stinky alley she knew that she was going to marry him.

The first four years had been married bliss. Long nights of sex that left her panting and satiated. Her money meant they had a life of relative luxury. A cleaning lady three times a week and the funds to eat out whenever they couldn`t be bothered to cook. Tom seemed quite happy in their relationship and to her knowledge had never strayed as he got as much sex as he wanted at home. Zara gave an ashamed chuckle as she thought he definitely got good sex, even though she said it herself. The man was a machine though and it was not unusual for him to come four times a night when they shared their marital bed. In all honesty Zara was quite happy when he worked nights, or she had to travel for business as her poor pussy got a well-earned rest.

She was sitting at an outside table in the August sunshine as she wanted to smoke. She raised one perfectly manicured finger to the effeminate waiter to indicate she wanted another drink then glanced at her Cartier watch and saw that Zoe was already late as she had expected. Only then did she see her twin haring down the road in a bright red T-shirt, jeans with a hole in the knee, scuffed trainers on her feet and that dirty old satchel she had owned since their time at High Towers.

Zara herself was dressed in a new Max Mara navy blue suit. The skirt was short and nearly exposed the tops of the sheer stockings that she had bought in Harrods the day before. Black Jimmy Choos with a four inch heel. Her blouse was scarlet and pure silk from a boutique in the Kings Road and Tom would go ballistic if he knew how much it had cost. It was open probably more than it should have been, and her La Perla black bra was on full view if you were at the right angle. Her auburn hair cascaded in expensive waves onto her shoulders courtesy of her stylist in Mayfair, who she had visited that morning before getting a taxi to the bar. Her personal manicurist had visited her office yesterday and given her finger and toe nails their weekly clean up and polish. Zara looked like the rich confident woman she actually was.

Zara had already rebuffed a few advances in the hour she had been sitting there, but this only made her feel hornier at the thought of the weekend away, and hopefully the fruition of her scheme.

A sweating, puffing Zoe collapsed into the seat across the table from her elegant sister with her customary, "Sorry I`m late!"

"What do you want to drink?" Zara asked bluntly.

"What are you drinking?"

"Vodka tonic!" With that she raised two slender fingers with the bright red nails to the waiter.

Zara waited for the drinks to arrive as Zoe made a vain attempt to tidy her hair and adjust her sweat soaked T-shirt into some semblance of order.

Only after the gay waiter had sashayed back inside with his tray under his arm did Zoe ask, "What are we doing here? The flights not for ages and the boys won`t be finished until seven at the earliest!"

Zara lit a cigarette and drained nearly half of her drink. She offered a cigarette to Zoe who shook her head. Zoe was a very, very occasional smoker. Usually when there was some crisis in her life or sometimes after an extremely satisfying bout of sex. She still kept a pack in her nightstand for that eventuality and Ian was not adverse to sharing a cigarette with her post coitus. "Take one!" Zara said sternly. „You are going to need one after I tell you why you are here."