Not My Sister's Keeper
Chapter 2

Copyright© 2015 by Morganna Roberts

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 2 - My sister Claudia and I were identical twins and deep down inside I hated that fact. I didn't like having a carbon copy of me running around doing everything I wanted to do but was afraid of trying. Now that my life was becoming too complicated to sort out, I had an opportunity to step into her exciting life style and I knew it was far too tempting to refuse.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Reluctant   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Incest   Brother   Sister   Spanking   Rough   Humiliation   Orgy   Safe Sex   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Petting   Sex Toys   Squirting   Water Sports   Cream Pie   Spitting   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism   Analingus   Size  

Fortunately, I was able to get a seat on a flight that was scheduled to depart in less than an hour from a gate close to the main terminal. I only had the one small bag that I could fit into the overhead bin without difficulty. That eliminated the need to wait at the luggage rack looking for my valued possessions. The lease on my condo was paid through the end of the year and I had my next door neighbor Marcie looking out for my place since I trusted her completely. She was an avowed lesbian with an open attitude that tended to make me feel completely at ease. I enjoyed the way she constantly hit on me even knowing I didn't swing that way. I didn't feel right in teasing her so I let her feel me up whenever she wanted to because in all honesty I just closed my eyes and pretended it was a handsome male co-worker called Dennis who was reputed to have the largest dick on the staff. Not that I knew personally because I was still rather shy even at twenty years of age. My only sexual activities were in my dreams and my fantasies about handsome young men coming to my rescue in all sorts of dangerous situations highly unlikely for me in my boring lifestyle.

So with Marcie covering my ass back home, I boarded the flight with a relieved sigh of excitement thinking that my worries on the Department of Justice front were at least solved temporarily if not forever. I sent a quick text to several of my co-workers to be on their toes because the Feds were looking for anything they could hang their prosecutorial hat on and I was taking an extended leave of absence just to stay out of the animal-rights lobby sights for the time-being. I thought it ironic that I was being painted as a "bad guy" when I only had the best interests of the animals as my main concern. I guess it was a case of no good deed goes unpunished. I shrugged off my self-pity and looked for my seat which was 27F and found to my dismay that the entire row was filled and there was a huge woman with two overweight children occupying all three seats on that side marked clearly 27D, E, and F. In fact they had boarding passes that matched all the assignments. I showed my ticket that also had the number 27F written in most likely by mistake. The economy section was completely filled by that point and the only thing they could do was to upgrade me to the first class section just to get me in a seat and out of their hair.

All of the passengers in first class looked at me like I was some illegal alien newly arrived from swimming the Rio Grande River in the light of a full moon. I had never been in first class before and I felt like an interloper in privileged territory. All of the seats were in pairs and almost as wide as a love seat with lots of room. They were already serving what looked like bubbly champagne and caviar to start the trip off right. The cabin attendants gave me one of those looks that said,

"No, please, not another one of those!"

I was certain my twin sister Claudia flew in first class all the time and she would have given them a piece of her mind to put them in their place. I just held my head down low and tried the shrink into some form of invisibility shield unable to be seen. It was only after they gave the instructions on the flotation cushions that I had the nerve to turn my head sideways and look at my seat partner who was an older man with whitish distinguished hair. He had about him a look of well-dressed sheer exhaustion. I could see that he was so caught up in his own worry about actually flying at 30,000 feet that he barely noticed me sitting quietly at his side.

The attendant came down the aisle and asked him,

"Would you like one of our special sleeping pills, sir? If you lean forward, I can massage your neck and bring your breathing back to normal."

It was obvious that they were familiar with the first class passenger and that he probably had the same reaction every time to the accelerating takeoff. He waved off her submissively suggestive offer and just asked for a glass of water. Since I already had an unopened bottle on my tray I offered it to him and he took it immediately and swigged down the whole thing in a single gulp. The stewardess seemed miffed that I had beaten her to the finish line but swung her shapely hips back up the aisle to tend to another passenger with some pampered person silly request.

The man gave me a once over but I could tell he was merely interested because I was dangerously close to being inside his territorial imperative and he probably could smell the perfume my sister had sent to me all the way from Paris, France. It was far too expensive for me to have purchased myself but she often received things like that from suitors hoping to get a whiff of it between her legs. In contrast, I still had my clumsy black eyeglasses on and my hair was so tightly wrapped it was difficult to see how long it really was. My outfit was a cross between disinterested college student and boring housewife so that certainly would not generate any interest except in desperate males that had been sexually deprived for an extended period of time. Nobody would have guessed that underneath my pathetic exterior was the finest French lingerie imaginable which my sister Claudia received "gratis" from her many contacts in the women's wear community. I could feel the soft silk material gently touching my private parts like the summer brush of a lover's caress warning of things to come. It managed to keep me constantly on edge because I certainly was not getting any action from my male co-workers or my disinterested male friends of my "less than happy" veterinarian academy days.

Before going any further, I have to disclose I am not a virgin by any stretch of the imagination and had not been one ever since my lifeguard days at the recreation center pool. I had been used extensively there after hours by the lifeguard trainer "Bud" Williams and had also granted my vaginal and anal favors with discriminating selectivity to several of the male lifeguards just to build up an overall impression of varied cocks to dispel any misunderstanding on my part as to the capabilities of male/female coitus. However after that somewhat regrettable spurt of slutty behavior, I had cleaned up my act and had been a virtual cloistered nun ever since. My only vice in that regard was a terrible addiction to masturbation that made me feel guilty beyond belief in the light of day. My main source of finding inspiration was the reading of my sister's naughty letters and her tales of male depravities that I often found hard to believe yet exciting enough to drain me with full satisfaction under the covers.

 
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