Her sister unlocked the front door and Katie pushed it open and stepped inside, courteously holding the door open so that Lisa could walk in without a struggle. As usual, Lisa was overburdened with a stuffed-to-the-gills, twenty pound backpack. Katie ragged on her constantly that she'd end up a hunchback. "All brain and no sense," she'd say disgustedly, to which her overachieving sister would retort "Oh, shut up!" to which Katie would reply snippily: "How original" which would elicit a second edict, this one normally more strident, to shut up.
"Thank you," Lisa huffed, de-shouldering her bag and dropping it on the floor with a thud. She obediently kicked off her shiny black shoes, as did Katie. "Mom, we're home!" she called.
"Is she home?" Lisa asked illogically.
"How should I know?" Katie replied, yelling loudly: "Mom? Are you here?"
Still no answer.
"Guess not," she surmised. She closed the door and set the deadbolt against the swill polluting their streets.
The girls were twins, an identical 5'3" in height; Katie slightly heavier at 102 pounds, though only because she was the more athletic of the two and didn't believe in sitting around all the time reading books. Lisa was the couch potato with a couch potato's resultant appetite. She had to starve herself in order to remain as slim as her more athletic sister.
Both girls wore their chestnut-colored hair shoulder length, as did their mother, Sarah, though for some reason Katie's hair always appeared to be an inch or two longer than her sister's, a proven optical illusion. Both had their mother's green eyes, their father's aquiline nose, and their grandfather Martin's strong chin. Their complexions were perfect, as growing up rich in the Hamptons guaranteed.
The twins shed their heavy coats, letting them drop into the corner of the couch as they passed through the living room on their way to the kitchen. On the central island in the kitchen sat a note propped against a tall crystal saltshaker, which Lisa spotted right away.
"She left us a note!" she crowed excitedly.
Katie headed for the refrigerator, shaking her head disgustedly, opened the stainless steel door and bent forward from the waist to look inside at the offerings. "What's it say?" she asked.
"Girls," her sister read loudly. "Got an emergency call from the office and had to go in. Will be back sometime after five. Make yourself dinner or call out for pizza. Use the Pizza Money in the cabinet. Love you and you behave yourselves. No wild parties. No boys. No sex. XXX. Mom."
Lisa blushed brightly at the admonition against parties, boys and sex. Katie seemed not to have heard at all. Currently she was gathering bottles and packages of assorted lunch meats and trying to fit them in her hands.
"She didn't really mean that, right?" Lisa asked.
Katie smirked. "Of course not. We're 14-year olds. We're home alone. Who are we gonna have sex with?"
In answer to her question, Lisa bent forward and pressed her lips to the corner of Katie's mouth. Grinning, though obviously in trouble with the jumble of bottles and packages in her hands, Katie turned her head and opened her mouth invitingly. Her eyes closed as Lisa's tongue darted in and sought out her own. She moaned, an answering groan sounding from her sister a moment later.
"Let me help," Lisa offered, rescuing the bottle of Hellman's Real Mayonnaise, the bottle of Grey Poupon mustard and the package of thin-sliced deli turkey. Then she collected the rest of the items and placed them on the counter top.
"I thought we were hungry," Katie objected with a grin.
"We are hungry," Lisa confirmed. She placed her hands at the small of her sister's back and let them slowly drift down to caress, and then take possession of Katie's rear end.
"Ooow. Little sister takes charge. Where's my cell phone. I have to Twitter this to all my friends."
"Twitter this," Lisa replied, claiming Katie's left breast with her hand. Katie reacted with a sharp intake of breath, her pupils dilated and her nostrils flared. Her faced reddened, almost as red as an apple.
"We should put the food away," Katie said huskily. A hand on her breast always elicited this reaction in her. If Lisa claimed both of her breasts, she would melt like milk chocolate or wax in a flaming candle. Talk about flaming candles.
Lisa returned the food to the refrigerator. Katie was unable. It never failed to mystify Katie that her normally incompetent sister held such an advantage over her in matters of sex. It was just so unfair. It should be Katie leading the charge, as she did in all other aspects of their relationship. It was like Gilligan taking charge of the island or Erin making the decisions on 90210. It just didn't happen. And yet, as soon as the refrigerator door closed, Katie was led away by the hand and taken upstairs to the twin's bedroom.
The twins slept in the same room. Since the age of seven, their mom had tried unsuccessfully to split them up, knowing from her own experiences as a twin that too much intimacy and too much dependency would make their eventual separation all the more difficult. Her efforts had been completely stymied to date, as much by their father as by the twins themselves. John Thomas was totally twisted around a pair of little fingers. Yet, at the age of 14, Katie and Lisa were resigned to the fact that someday Mom would win out. Their days as roommates were numbered. And they hated it.
The bed on the left side of the room, the one with the window above the headboard belonged to Lisa. The bed on the right side, the one with the window overlooking her footboard, were she to have such a thing as a footboard, belonged to Katie. In the morning Katie could sit up and, should the blinds be open and the curtains drawn, gaze at the Frazier's house across the street. Sometimes she'd see Michael Frazier gazing back at her. Sometimes--and lately with increasing frequency--through a pair of binoculars. On those occasions Katie always waved a hand at the 10th grader good-naturedly. He had yet to wave back, but Katie had cause for hope. She knew Michael secretly liked her, despite their 2-year age difference. The twins were 8th-grader's, in their last year as middle school students. Katie knew the difficulties faced by any 10th grader contemplating a girl of 14. His friends would rag on him endlessly. His life would be miserable. Boys were such fools.
Upon entering the room, Katie was led directly to Lisa's bed and unceremoniously pushed down on her back. She watched a grin stretched her sister's lips as Lisa straddled her hips, making herself comfortable. In a moment Lisa's hands would descend and take sole possession of her small, firm breasts. Her growing-by-the-day-breasts, as she liked to say. Her smile widened as Lisa's grin turned wolfish, and she trembled slightly as the pair of hands first hovered in the air a moment, and then settled on her soft flesh. She moaned involuntarily, placing her hands over her sister's.
"You are so predictable," Lisa said to her. The hands on her breasts tightened, gripping her rather than cupping. Lisa's thumbs rubbed her nipples through the thin material of her uniform blouse and bra, making them awaken fitfully. On cue, though involuntarily, Katie squirmed and moaned again.
"It's not fair," she complained.
"What's not fair?" her sister demanded.
"That you have this affect on me."
"Say it right," her sister admonished.
"Say it right," her sister repeated.
"That you have this power over me," she admitted grudgingly. The power extendedalarminglyto her sister taking her over her knee and paddling her bare behind whenever she wanted to, which luckily hadn't been that often. Still, Katie found it humiliating, sex or no sex, getting her bare-bottom so thoroughly lit up. Especially in front of an open window, when binoculars might be looking.
She considered that now, being watched. She looked at her sister, at the window right-angled to their position, at the relative elevations of the her own prone body, her sister's upright one, her bedroom window, and the one across the street. She grinned, knowing her sister could be seen and she could not.
"What are you grinning at?" Lisa wanted to know.
"Nothing," Katie lied.
Lisa's grin broadened. "You are such a terrible liar."
"I'm not lying," Katie lied.
Lisa narrowed one eye. "God doesn't like liars. God punishes little-girl liars. God uses my hand to punish them," she said, raising her right hand and making a paddling motion in the air.
Katie couldn't help but grin. "I kinda think this is one secret you'd want me to keep, Lisa."
Lisa frowned. "I would?"
"Because, it's something that would turn you on, not-knowing what it is."
Lisa considered that for a moment, thoughtfully nibbling her lower lip. "You know me pretty well," she said slowly.
"I know you pretty well," Katie agreed.
"I'm better off not knowing what it is, because it's sexually embarrassing for me?"
Katie nodded her concurrence.
"I like being sexually embarrassed?" Lisa asked.
Katie nodded again.
"I guess you know me pretty well," her sister agreed.
Katie held her breath as Lisa leaned forward, hands on Katie's breasts for support, until Lisa's mouth was just millimeters away. She felt her sister's breath on her lips as the next question came.
"Do you like to be sexually embarrassed, Katie?"
"You know I do," she whispered, rising up to meet her sister's lips. Their mouths joined and opened to exchange tongues. Like everything else having to do with sex, Lisa seemed to have inherited Katie's share of the requisite talent. Kissing Lisa was like kissing herself, twice over. Her heart banged and her blood pressure surely had to be through the roof. Her ears rang and her head buzzed. She buzzed between her legs also and inside her gut and there were two small beehives on her chest. Her whole body felt like a racing engine.
Lisa maintained the hold on her breasts, her forearms at right angles to Katie's chest. It never felt as good, being held this way, but Katie took the tradeoff willingly. Her tongue, gloriously alive, danced like Ginger Rogers with Fred Astaire. (She liked the old stars, loved the way they moved so flawlessly, the way they made music with their bodies instead of in rhythm with it. No one today, not even the couples on Dancing with the Stars, moved with such gracefulness. In fact, Katie felt completely Ginger Rogers-like, beneath and being made love to by her Fred Astaire.)
Lost in bliss, Katie raised her hands and let them drift through her sister's silken, chestnut hair. This raised her blood pressure another ten points, her heart rate ten more beats per minute. Was there anything as desirable as her sister's tongue, dancing with her own? Well, yes, but that was hers also.
A massive shudder shook the pair of them.
"What was that?" Lisa wanted to know.
Breathless, Katie stared up at her sister. Her already flushed face became burning hot.
"I suppose you don't know?" Lisa taunted with a crooked grin.
Katie shook her head, too innocent.
Lisa laughed. "Were you imagining me opening your blouse, undoing your bra, and removing your panties from beneath your uniform skirt?"
The thought of any of the three would make Katie shudder. The thought of all three, done to her in short order, raised gooseflesh on every square inch of her upper body. The breath caught in her throat, a breathless squeal somehow making its way out her mouth.
"That's what I thought," Lisa said, returning to her lips.
In truth, Katie was unsure when Lisa unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it free of her skirt. She only knew that one moment, the hands on her breasts were two layers of material away, and then suddenly they were only one layer away. Palms and fingertips glided effortlessly over her skin, igniting streamers of flame in their passing. The heat burned more than her skin. It ignited the subcutaneous layer of fat beneath the skin, spreading fire over every square inch of her body. She began a moan unlike anything capable of a 14-year-old.
Hands still in her sister's hair, Katie piled it atop Lisa's head, and then released it to fall in a soft, disorganized avalanche around their faces. Another shudder racked her head to toe when Lisa went in search of other parts of her anatomy to torture.
"I want you," she panted hoarsely.
"I want you too," Lisa whispered back.
Was it possible her sister wasn't even breathing hard? How could her heart not be pounding against her ribcage, the way Katie's did? The blush on her cheeks was barely a blush at all; more the pinkening you'd expect climbing the stairs. And Lisa's hands were steady as those of a surgeon, not trembling helplessly. It was so unfair! And then Lisa's mouth returned where it belonged and Katie forgot those issues, returned to her immersion in the swirling depths of emotion, not caring how her sister drove her mad, only that she did.
Uhnuhhhg, or a sound very much like that accompanied the lifting of her bra off her left breast. A monstrous shudder accompanied her sister's warm wet mouth, enveloping her nipple and making sucking sounds like those of a nursing child. This drove Katie almost into frenzy. He back arched, her left side leading the thrust into her sister's mouth. She felt her hands clench the back of her sister's uniform shirt and in her hair, felt Lisa react to the pressure on her roots, relaxed the hand and let it cup the back of her sister's neck gently. It was maddening what Lisa did to her with her lips. What Lisa did to her with her mouth, with her roaming hands. The catch on her bra proved no challenge to fingertips practiced at unsnapping the bra of their mistress every day. The straps parted and moment's later triumphant fingertips traced the path of the elastic fabric right to the unprotected breast, victoriously claiming the flesh and the aching projection tipping the flesh. A spring wound tight in her chest as Lisa wound the nipple between her fingertips. Uhnuhhhg, she moaned again. It was so unfair.
Lisa sat up. Gripping the bottom of her uniform blouse, she pulled it free of her skirt and over her head. She shook her hair as the blouse free-falled to the bed and hung half-on and half-off the mattress. Her bra was flesh-colored, barely darker than her skin. It struck Katie that Lisa had worn different colored underwear today; they always dressed alike. Or had it been she who had dressed differently that her sister? How could that happen? It gave her pause.
"Wait," she said, perplexed. "You had on white underwear this morning, just like me." She pointed at the satin bra on her sister's chest, accusingly. "You changed?"
"When you were in the bathroom," Lisa confessed. She raised her slender, shapely arms and fluffed out her hair. Katie, distracted, forgot the flesh-colored bra. What was it about her sister's raised arms, and the sight of her baby-smooth underarms that aroused her so much? It occurred to her that, were she a boy, she'd suffer an uncontrollably painful erection.
No, that was wrong. She wanted her sister to have the erection. She wanted her sister inside her right now, to be spread far apart when the time came and have Lisa thrusting between her legs, filling her with the erection currently throbbing in her head. The longing, so intensely unbearable, forced her lids closed over her eyes, her head to arch back, her lips to spread and uncover her teeth.
"You're cumming," her sister accused softy.
All she could do was nod. Nod and ride the sinuous but unstoppable wave of her orgasm.
"You do it sooner and sooner," her sister complained, still in a whisper.
She nodded, unable to deny the fact. Lisa stole her bra and placed her hands over Katie's bare breasts, making Katie cum even harder. One touch, one touch was all it would take. Lisa hadn't even gotten below her waist yet, had not ventured south of her navel. And yet Katie could feel wave after wave of orgasm escaping her clitoris like radio waves from a transmitter. The flowed through her and bounced back from her inner surfaces and amplified and canceled themselves out, though mostly amplifying from the feel of it. It occurred to Katieas much as anything could occur to her estrogen-shocked brainthat being the female of the pair was much more a blessing than a curse. Never had her sister rode a wave of orgasm like this. Not at Katie's hands, anyway.
"This is so unfair," Lisa grumbled. "I've barely touched you and you're erupting like a volcano."
Katie shook her head.
"You can't even open your eyes," Lisa accused.
Katie shook her head again.
"I have a good mind to get off you and go downstairs and make myself a sandwich," Lisa said, disgruntled.
Katie shook her head and whimpered.
"You don't even let me get going, Katie. It's not fair."
Katie shook her head and beckoned for her sister to join her. Sighing, Lisa did so. Her mouth joined with Katie's again, though with a markedly lower level of enthusiasm, Katie realized. Determined to make this right, she found her sister's bra catch, released it, and placed her hands in the middle of her sister's back. Using her tongue in a way she found unfamiliar and unsettling, Katie tried to channel her orgasm into her sister through her own mouth. Lisa started abruptly, went suddenly rigid, and then began to struggle feebly against her sister's mouth and hands. Katie yanked up Lisa's skirt, fumbled her thumbs beneath the waistband of her panties, changed her mind and dove her fingers beneath them down onto Lisa's bare behind. Lisa's reaction was instantaneous.
"What are you doing to me?" she gasped. "Oh my God!" she moaned. Then she squealed, just like a six-year old stabbed in the ribs with a fingertip. Katie refused to let her go, concentrating the vortex of energy in her mind, funneling it through her shoulders down her arms into her hands, and then her fingertips, gripping her sister's behind painfully tight, willed the thrashing orgasm from her body to her sister's. Lisa's head snapped back, her mouth opened in a grimace, her teeth bared, her eyes squeezed shut as the storm of Katie's orgasm invaded her body through her bare bottom. She coughed once explosively, and then twisted, writhing under the onslaught.