‘Twas the summer of ‘69’. Actually, it wasn’t. In the southern-hemisphere summer of ‘68/’69, I was all of five years old. I turned six in the middle of winter.

It was summer when I met the twins Sarah Jessica and Mary Louise Parker, the summer of 2007/2008, and I was forty-four. Sarah Jessica (SJ) and Mary Lou were dating my twin sons.

The Parker twins are non-identical. You’d doubt they’re even related if you didn’t know they’re twins. SJ is a horse-faced girl, quite pretty but not beautiful. Her natural hair colour is black, but she always dyes it honey blonde. Her eyes are hazel, spaced quite close together, and her nose is too large.

Striking was the word that always came to my mind when I saw her. Striking, just not beautiful.

SJ has a great body, however. Big breasts, a tiny waist and a round, firm butt. According to her ‘cheerleader stats’, she is 36-25-35. Maybe what made her breasts seem so big is that she is only 5-ft. 2-in. (154 cm) tall and weighs barely 112 lbs. (51 Kg). Perhaps because her breasts sit high and firm like gorgeously ripe apples on her thin frame is also to blame.

Okay, I admit it. I’ve had some very inappropriate fantasies about my son’s girlfriend. I dreamed that under her snotty, stuck-up exterior lurked a dirty girl that loved rough sex. A little cock-hungry slut that adored older men.

Mary Louise (Mary Lou), in comparison, is an absolute stunner. Mary Lou is way taller than her older by one hour twin. Mary Lou stands close to the 5-ft. 8-in. (173 cm) mark. She keeps her figure trim and toned with a regular exercise regime of Pilates, Yoga, and Tae-bo.

Mary Lou spurned cheerleading as ‘beneath her dignity’, so I could not look up her stats. But, compared with similar girls I did have stats for, I guessed she is probably 35-25-35. So quite close to her sister. Maybe their height difference and the extra 10 Kg Mary Lou had over her sister made her breasts seem like crab apples to SJ’s red delicious ones.

Yup, you caught me again. I have even worse fantasies about Mary Lou than I have about SJ. In those fantasies, the twins are incestuous, and SJ loved Mary Lou pegging her ass as SJ rode me.

Mary Lou stands out in any crowd with her dark brown eyes, full lips, and impish smile. Together, Mary Lou and SJ turn heads wherever they go.

I’d been single for almost two years when my sons brought the twins into my life. I’d divorced after coming home unexpectedly to find my wife in bed with two of the three guys I play golf with. The third guy had, apparently, just left.

I wouldn’t have minded so much if I’d been allowed to know and join in.

The wife packed her bags and left. The divorce came through the mail around six months later.

I still play golf with those three guys every Saturday.

You won’t find my name on any rich list anywhere, but I’m doing okay. Even after the divorce, I have enough money to do whatever I wish. I don’t have any qualifications or training in the stock market. But, if you’re smart, keep an ear to the ground, listen to the right people, and ask the right questions, money can always be made in both a bear and a bull market.

Oh. We don’t have a ‘bear market’ in Australia. Selling shares you don’t currently own is illegal here. But it’s 2012. The global economy is ripe for the picking if you know how to access it.

I own a lovely bayside house with unimpeded views out to Stradbroke Island and drive a gull-winged Mercedes-AMG Black. Strangely, mine is bright red, not black.

My passion is high-speed boats. I have a Mercedes-AMG powered 1,000 horsepower monster I take out every chance I get. You can water-ski behind it, but you’d better get someone other than me to steer. I tend to forget you’re there and open the taps up.

My boat goes almost 160 mph (200 kph). I’m sure it can go faster, but it’s limited to there, and I haven’t figured out how to turn the limiter off.

160 miles per hour in a boat is not the same as on the road! That fast on land is exhilarating. But, on the water, it is, quite frankly, terrifying. A real buzz, but fuck scary!

I’ve got to wait until I’m out past Straddie (Stradbroke Island) before I’m legally allowed to open Shelly (my boat’s name) up. I could do it in the bay because no police boat would catch me, but my boat stands out. So it’s hard to deny it was you when yours is the only boat of its kind in the harbour.

The Parker twins only dated my boys, Gary and Aaron, for around twelve months. Gary had taken a job in a brokerage firm in New York, and SJ wasn’t prepared to move.

Mary Lou broke up with Aaron at the same time. I didn’t know why.

Aaron has chosen to live with his mother. So that means I have this massive house with just me in it. It seems a bit silly, really.

When SJ and Gareth broke up, I assumed I wouldn’t see either of the twins again. But, once Gary had departed for New York, Mary Lou started to drop by. May-Lou is an adrenalin junkie and loves skimming across the wave tops at full throttle in my boat. SJ sometimes accompanies her.

Mary Lou began calling me Daddy John. I think it was a joke, but I wasn’t sure what the punchline was.

I look after myself. Physical appearance matters when you’re conducting multi-million dollar transactions. I have a well-equipped home gym in the rec room and have a personal trainer come in twice a week to run me through my paces.

Standing 6-ft 4-in. (193 cm) tall, I weigh just a little over 187 lbs. (85 kg). My body fat percentage is an athlete’s less than 4%. I’d had some success as a track athlete during high school, and I liked to keep myself close to that fit.

I can bench-press nearly twice my body weight and deadlift half more again than what I weigh.

I don’t smoke, only drink socially, and avoid sugary drinks and refined sugars. I have a chef come in once a week to plan and prepare all my daily meals.

I don’t believe I’m handsome, but women have often told me I am. Guys say I look like a smacked ass, however.

With the age gap between us, I never thought that Mary Lou wanted anything from me other than the chance to ride in and occasionally steer my boat.

Other than in my fantasies, I mean.

Guys, believe it or not, picking up tarts is exceptionally easy. Stand tall, smile a lot, have a quick joke or facetious line ready, and act confident. Stay sober! I cannot emphasise this enough. No self-respecting woman wants to be breathed beerilly (breath reeking of beer) over and have her breasts groped as you slur, “Wanna dansh, shweethart?”

Most women I’ve met like the smell of scotch and hate the smell of rum, so figure it out, okay?

I’m reasonably good-looking, well-spoken, and have money. I can dance well and hold a conversation about just about anything. Plus, I can feign interest in the things women find important: The Royal Family, the Kardashians, etc. So I don’t suffer from any lack of female company.

The problem is finding one that isn’t a social climber or only interested in my money.

Seriously, more often than not, I found it easier and more enjoyable to call a high-priced escort and then treat her to a night out and dinner than trying to pick someone up. The escort is usually a better conversationalist, more beautiful and better made and dressed up than any girl you’re going to meet out. The added bonus is that with the escort, you’re guaranteed to get sex.

As a lot of the business I do is with firms in Europe, the UK, or the USA, I’m typically up for most of the night because that’s daytime where they are. It’s all good as I usually only need between three and four hours of sleep a night.

Mary Lou is a radiographer with Queensland Health. Because there is a skills shortage in this area, Mary Lou was kept busy but could rack up her 40 allowed work hours per week in three to four days, so I’d often get a phone call after midday Thursday to see if I was taking the boat out.

We’d been out on the water so often that I jokingly said, “We’ve been seen together so many times your father will think we’re dating.”

Mary Lou gave me a quizzical smile, “If you’re uncomfortable being seen with me, Daddy John, I can stop coming over. Besides, SJ and I only date twin brothers. You don’t have a twin hiding somewhere, do you?”

Deadpan, I answered, “Well, actually, I do. It’s just that my brother and I are so awesome that we dare not be in the same room at the same time in case something explodes or we cause an earthquake.”

Mary Lou laughed and patted my arm fondly, “You’ll have to introduce him to me one day soon, Daddy John. I’d like to meet this ‘awesome’ twin.”

Maintaining the charade, I replied, “I guess I could arrange it, but Murray and I have to be very careful in case we accidentally meet. Many women have been known to faint at the sheer brilliance of our awesomeness.”

“Wait,” Mary Lou said. “You’re John Murray, and your twin is Murray Murray?”

“No. He had his name changed by deed poll to Murray John.”

“Twins, John Murray and Murray John? Wow! That’s like the opposite. Are you the opposite in every other way, too? Is your brother short, fat, bald and poor?”

“Don’t be silly, Mary Lou,” I joked. “How can identical twins be the opposite of the other?”

Mary Lou was laughing out loud and holding her sides, “I’ve got to meet this twin, Daddy John, but how will I tell you apart?”

“Oh, that’s easy, Mary Lou. Murray John has a moustache.”

Chuckling, Mary Lou responded, “Okay, I’ve got all Monday off. Monday is a free day for you, isn’t it, because it’s Sunday where most of your markets are? I’ll bring a bottle of wine, and you can get your chef to make us lunch, and I’ll meet your twin.”

I pretended to be crestfallen, “Murray John doesn’t drink wine, Mary Lou. He only drinks single malt scotch.”

Laughing again, Mary Lou replied, “I’ll bring a bottle of Glen Fiddich as well, just for him.”

“Will SJ be coming?” I asked. “If you’re getting to meet my twin, it’s only fair my twin gets to meet yours.”

“I can bring her, for sure. We aren’t that awesome that we can’t be seen together.”

We spent the rest of that day blasting around Moreton bay. It was too rough to go out beyond the islands. It was probably a little too rough in the bay to be doing the speeds we were, but I’m confident in my boat and sure of my skills.

Besides, some of the bumps would knock Mary Lou off balance, and she would squeal delightedly as she flung her arms around me to stop from falling over. Her breasts, covered only by a thin T-shirt, felt very nice pressed against my arm, side or back.

I let Mary Lou complete the loop around Mud Island and back to my jetty. I controlled the throttle, though. It was getting quite rough, and I didn’t want my adrenalin junkie friend deciding to see if she could launch the boat into the sky.

Mary Lou was either cold, unlikely given it was a warm early summer’s day, or aroused as her nipples were rock-like pebbles against the inside of her T-shirt when we pulled up at my jetty.

Squeezing my bicep and kissing my cheek, Mary Lou said, “That was so much fun, Daddy John. Does your brother drive the boat equally as well?”

Continuing the earlier theme, I answered, “I don’t know, Mary Lou. Us both being on the same boat at the same time would probably cause a tidal wave or monsoonal trough to develop.”

“Maybe I could go out with him one day and find out, then.”

Pretending to be confused, I asked, “You want to go on a date with Murray John? We’re twice your age, almost.”

Chuckling, Mary Lou slapped my arm, “On the boat, silly! Besides, we’ve never gone out for dinner because you’ve never asked me!”

“If I’d thought for even one moment you’d want to, Mary Lou, I would have ages ago. But, we’re talking about as friends, right?”

“What else could we be, Daddy John?” She replied. “There is that twenty-two-year age gap.”

But did I see a glint in her eye, or just wish there was?

“I’ll see you Monday, Daddy John,” Mary Lou said as she jumped in her car to leave.

I spent Saturday and Sunday not sure what to do. Did I go to one of the film makeup stores and buy a fake moustache so I could maintain the charade? Or did I leave a lame joke where it lay and enjoy lunch with Mary Lou? I was certain Sarah Jessica wouldn’t be there.

I spent way too much time fantasising that Mary Lou did want to go out on a date with me.

In the end, I drove into town and bought a false moustache. Spurning the glue that the receptionist suggested, I purchased some double-sided tape. If I was going to carry out the charade of being my twin, I needed to be able to put the fake moustache off and on quickly.

My chef prepared a beautiful looking and smelling Moroccan lamb salad for lunch. For sides, she had grilled three Portobello mushrooms with some bacon, cheese and olive oil.

Mary Lou’s car pulled up bang on 12.00 pm. To my surprise, Sarah Jessica climbed out of the passenger seat.

Grinning, I congratulated myself for purchasing the fake moustache, shaving my face as closely as possible then hiding the moustache in the guest bathroom.

Mary Lou held up the bottles she was holding. A Castelli Estate Il Liris Chardonnay 2018 and the promised bottle of Glen Fiddich single malt scotch whiskey.

Walking down from my balcony, I greeted the twins with air kisses at the door and ushered them to my dining room table.

“Where is your twin?” SJ asked.

“He’s waiting in the entertainment room,” I replied. “As I explained to your sister, my brother’s and my combined awesomeness is too much for this world. If we were to share space, I’m not sure reality can survive,”

Mary Lou laughed, but SJ rolled her eyes before sitting at the table.

Mary Lou wandered around the room, looking at the art on the walls. I only have one original, a Jo O’Brien owl that my ex-wife loved but didn’t take with her. But there are a number of prints that I love including ‘Whistler’s Mother’.

“Sarah and I would like to meet your twin, John, please,” Mary Lou stated.

Amused, I answered, “Sure, let me go knock on the door, then duck into the bathroom before he comes in.

Going into the bathroom, I opened the drawer and placed the moustache under my nose. I had put a different polo shirt beside the moustache, so I swiftly changed shirts.

Changing nothing else, I walked back into the dining room.

Pointing at SJ because she didn’t seem into the joke, I said in my normal voice, “You must be Mary Lou. John described you perfectly. Hello, I’m Murray John.”

“I’m Sarah Jessica, you Muppet,” SJ responded acerbically.

Pretending to be mortified, I said, “I’m sorry. I thought that was what I said.”

Mary Lou didn’t say a thing but was grinning widely.

SJ shook her head, “You called me by my sister’s name.”

“I called you Sarah Jessica? Is that not your name?”

SJ glared at me before dissolving into laughter.

“I don’t know why I go along with your ridiculous games, Mary Lou. Lunch had better be as good as you say John’s chef is.”

Sitting beside her sister, Mary Lou said, “I’m sorry, Murray, but if I can only have lunch with one of you, I’d like to have lunch with John. Is that okay?”

“No worries, Miss Parker,” ‘Murray’ replied. “I wasn’t hungry, anyway.”

Walking back to the bathroom, I removed the moustache, changed shirts then returned.

“Hard to tell us apart if not for the moustache, huh?”

SJ rolled her eyes again, and Mary Lou laughed.

Laughing and joking, Mary Lou, SJ, and I ate lunch and drank the wine.

“Shame your brother can’t come in,” Mary Lou said. “The whiskey is going to waste.”

“I can take it and an ice-filled glass to him if you want?”

Smiling, Mary Lou said, “Poor boy must be thirsty and hungry. Why don’t you prepare a plate for him, as well?”

Instead of pretending to take something to my ‘brother’, I walked down to the bathroom, changed shirts before placing the moustache in place, and then walked back to the dining room.

Walking over to Sarah Jessica, I said, “Mary Lou, you are so pretty!”

Mary Lou laughed out loud.

SJ rolled her eyes, “Didn’t we do this joke already?”

With a wooden face, I said, “John does the jokes. I’m strictly the straight man.”

“Then your brother needs better material,” SJ said but spoiled her severe façade by dissolving into laughter again.

The three of us had a blast all afternoon. We pushed the chairs back to make room, and I tried to show the girls how to Tango. SJ learned the dance pretty quickly, but Mary Lou had consumed a little too much wine and was a little uncoordinated. However, she eventually made it through all the steps without standing on my toes or falling over.

An afternoon storm was brewing, so we didn’t have the chance to take the boat out.

Putting some modern music on, I danced with the twins alternately as the storm banged and clanged around us. Mary Lou kissed me at the end of a slow dance to the Bee Gees, More than a Woman.

I’m not talking about a chaste after the dance thank you kiss. I’m talking about a full lip locked, hands on my cheeks, and pelvis pressed against me, kiss.

Shocked, I didn’t move at all except to return her kiss.

Stepping back, Mary Lou cleared her throat twice before saying, “Better go get your brother. SJ would like to be kissed, too.”

Almost dazed, I shuffled towards the bathroom to put the moustache on and to change Polos.

Once I was back in the room, SJ stood, moved across to me, and then moulded her young, firm body onto mine before cupping my face and locking her lips with mine. SJ’s tongue touched my slightly parted lips, so I opened a little wider at met her tongue with mine.

I wasn’t sure where this was going. I knew where I wanted it to go but wasn’t sure what was happening here, so I kept my hands on appropriate parts of SJ’s body.

SJ stood back, “Your moustache tickles, Murray. Other than that, you’re an excellent kisser.”

Holding my face still, I replied, “But if I shave it off, how will you be able to tell me from my brother?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Mr John,” Mary Lou said as she took the couple of steps across to me. “Maybe you could let me draw a ‘M’ on your forehead and an ‘J’ on your brother’s.”

Mary Lou drew an imaginary ‘M’ with her finger as she spoke, then laughed.

Mary Lou turned to her sister, “Enough for today. You’ll have to drive home, sis. I’m way too inebriated.”

The twins picked up their belongings and headed for the door.

SJ had her arm around Mary Lou, almost supporting her sister to the car. When SJ opened the door, Mary Lou turned back towards me.

“Watch this, Daddy John,” she said, then wrapped her arms around SJ and tongue kissed her.

Sarah Jessica kissed her back equally as fervently.

The twins broke the kiss, and SJ walked around to the driver’s door.

Just before she sat in the car, Mary Lou spoke again, “And you still haven’t asked me out to dinner, Murray.”

“We’ve only just met, Miss Mary Lou,” I replied. “Besides, I would never cut John’s grass for him!”

Laughing, the twins drove off.

I went upstairs to ‘relieve some pressure’. I didn’t need internet access. My fantasies were more than enough.

Friday afternoon, I was woken by the sound of a car in my driveway. I looked at my watch. 1.00 pm. ‘Who could it be?’ I wondered.

I usually sleep naked, so I had to grab a towel to wrap around me before answering the door. The twins walked in wearing little but a sarong wrapped around their bikini clad bodies.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” Mary Lou almost sang. “We’ve been calling your cell for the last hour. It’s a beautiful day out there. You should let your brother take us out on the water.”

I couldn’t remember what I’d done with the fake moustache. I hoped I’d left it in the downstairs bathroom, but I wasn’t sure.

“I’d rather take you both myself,” I replied.

“We’ve seen your skills with the boat, John. We want to see if your brother is equally as good.”

Throwing my hands up, I went back to the bedroom to change. I put on a pair of boardies (board shorts), not bothering with underwear as these boardies had some built in, and a blue singlet, and then found my flip-flops. I looked in the bathroom on my way back to the lounge. The moustache was still there, so I applied more double-sided tape and put it on.

As soon as I entered the room, Sarah Jessica put her hand up. I stopped. She pulled her sister up to stand next to her, then dropped her sarong. Mary Lou followed suit. They wore matching pairs of tiny black bikinis.

The tops weren’t even tiny handkerchiefs over their breasts. The material was barely wide enough to cover their nipples. The bikini bottoms were even more revealing, with the waist being a thin piece of string and most of the piece between their legs the same. This piece only widened enough to cover SJ’s and Mary Lou’s vulva.

It was apparent that both girls were waxed clean of hair from the neck down.

“If you get to look at this, we should get to look at something similar. Go and put some DTs (Dick Togs or Speedos) on,” SJ instructed.

“I don’t own a pair,” I pointed out.

I’ve got a great body, but DTs always seem gauche to me.

SJ pulled a small bag from the bigger bag she had brought inside.

“Lucky we shopped for you before we came over, then, eh?”

Laughing, I brought out what was in the bag. Other than a pouch for my ball sack and thick 7-inch cock, the swimsuit the girls had bought me was as revealing as their outfits. It was basically a G-string with a pouch for the ‘boys’.

I turned to go to the bathroom to put it on.

“Where are you going?” Mary Lou asked.

“To change.”

“Don’t we get a show?”

I turned slowly to look at the girls. Raising an eyebrow, I asked, “Would you like me to dance for you, too?”

“What’s a show without some dancing?” SJ shot back.

Finding the joke CD single I’d bought for my ex-wife Catherine I put on Right Said Fred’s I’m too Sexy and began to strut around the room.

My ex-wife didn’t see the joke. She thought I was accusing her of ‘having tickets’ on herself. I was, but that wasn’t the joke. The joke was that she knew it and yet still acted like that.

Swinging my hips outrageously and bending over to show off my toned ass to the girls every couple of seconds, I danced around the room. The single I bought was the extended mix, so the song lasted close to seven minutes.

I timed my dance so as the song’s last stanza was playing I was pirouetting swiftly on the spot directly in front of where the twins were sitting. Then, when Fred started on the last sentence of, ‘I’m too sexy for this song,’ I bent at the waist to put my upper body between my boardies and the girls, then grabbed the bottom of my shorts.

As ‘ ... song’ rang out, I ripped my boardies down then stood up with my legs well spread, my hands on my hips and my thick, partially erect donger bouncing to a stop mere inches from their faces.

As my dick stopped, the twins both touched their slightly parted lips with their tongues.

Picking up the tiny swimsuit, I stepped into it, then tucked my balls and shaft into the pouch before nonchalantly throwing my singlet over my right shoulder.

With a flourish towards the door that leads down to my jetty, I said, “Shall we?”

The girls had to swallow twice before they could comply.

That day was a typical early summer’s day in South-East Queensland. A balmy 27°C (81F) with not a breath of wind and clear blue skies. The bay was a mill pond. Being so flat, my boat skimmed across the top with barely a shudder.

Keeping to the speed limit, I headed directly out to deep water past North Straddie Island. Once we were out of human eyesight from the land, the twins took their bikini tops off. Neither showed any tan lines, so they must sunbathe topless often. Unfortunately, they were sitting on either side of the boat’s prow with their backs to me, so I didn’t get to see any boob yet. The occasional boat heading back in got cheery waves if they tooted on their way past.

As we rounded North Straddie, I went to open the throttle up and take off. But before I did, SJ walked back to me.

“Is the fishing out here any good, Murray?”

Her nubile breasts were as high and firm as I fantasised them to be. At just 22 years of age, Sarah Jessica had no sag at all.

I pointed to a rock formation poking its head above the water about a half mile away (around 1,000 m), “On the east side of that is often good. There can be a few snags, but I’ve often had luck fishing there.

The best thing is even if the tourists on Point Lookout have binoculars, they won’t be able to perve on you or your sister.”

Sarah Jessica shrugged, “They can look. I don’t mind. You have lines and bait?”

“I have lines and lures. I thought we were going for a blast, not a cruise, so I didn’t think to bring any.”

“Lures will work okay.”

I opened the locker and brought three lines and a box of lures out.

“Don’t bother for me,” Mary Lou called from the front of my boat. “I’m going to lie here and bake.”

Putting one back away, I handed SJ one of the other two.

“Where do you want to set up?” I asked. “Upfront with Mary Lou or back here where you can put the rod in one of the holders and relax?”

“Back here, please.”

I set one of the rods in the holder, then inspected the lure already on the line.

“This is a prawn lure. I’ve caught some good-sized yellowtail with this before. Want to try it?”

“Sure.”

“You right to cast the line?”

“Yes, Murray.”

“Keep it to the right of the rock. There are fewer snags on that side.”

“Righto.”

I looked to see what Mary Lou was doing. She had taken a beach towel out of the bag and spread it on the boat’s prow. I could see the top and bottom of her bikini lying off to the side. To my chagrin, Mary Lou had laid on her tummy facing back towards me. I still couldn’t get a glimpse of a damned thing.

“I like to leave my bikini bottom on when I sunbathe,” Sarah Jessica mused. “I think tan lines look so sexy on a toned woman’s body, don’t you, Murray?”

Smiling, I answered, “I don’t know, SJ. Perhaps you and Mary Lou could dance for me as I danced for you, and I could compare?”

“You never know your luck on a big ocean,” SJ replied before casting her line out.

Not thinking we’d be out for long, I hadn’t thought to bring any refreshments. I looked in the small fridge under the control panels. There wasn’t much, just a couple of cans of Heineken beer and half a bottle of Chardonnay.

I offered them to the girls.

Mary Lou held the towel to her collarbone, then stood up. Wrapping it around herself, she fished in her bag and brought out several plastic containers.

“We’ll have some of the wine, please, Murray. I made a chicken salad and a pasta salad if you’d like to sit and eat?”

I pulled out the collapsible table to put between the back two passenger benches so we could sit to eat. My beach umbrella is pretty tatty as it’s hardly ever used, but it was better than sitting in the direct sun. So I placed it in one of the rod holders and bent the shaft so it was between the sun and the table.

As we settled onto the seats, SJ’s rod buckled, and the spool squealed loudly. SJ jumped up to grab it before it was pulled into the water, but the line snapped before she could grab it.

“What the f_ was that?” SJ asked.

“Shark, I’d guess.”

SJ grinned, “Maybe we shouldn’t go skinny dipping then.”

Unselfconsciously, SJ sat down opposite me again and began opening containers. Her nipples swung tantalisingly as she moved.

Mary Lou sat beside her. Mary Lou’s towel kept dropping open, but she would grab it and retie it before I could get more than a glimpse of the tops of her mounds.

My dick was at permanent half-mast with denied arousal. Even to my eye, it looked huge in the tiny bathing suit I had it tucked into, so I decided to take advantage of how it presented.

I stood up and stretched, pushing my hips as far forward as I could as I arched my back.

The table is only about 3 ft. x 3 ft., so my thick, partially hard dick was pushed only a few inches away from the twin’s mouths.

“I didn’t go for my morning run,” I explained. “I’m feeling a little stiff and sore and need to work some kinks out.”

The girls said nothing, but Mary Lou took the umbrella down. I turned to see what else they were doing. Nothing, but they did have expectant looks on their faces.

Internally shrugging, I started swinging my hips around in a lengthy circle. Pushing them out as far as possible sent my barely covered cock sliding closely past their lips.

Mary Lou was smiling and looking at my face, but SJ’s eyes avidly followed my prick as it swung past her.

After a few rotations in either direction, I turned and touched my toes. My long legs and tight-toned ass were now only a couple of feet away from the twins.