Chapter 3 – Rebecca
I should start by pointing out that I’m not a lesbian. Maybe Bri is, but not me. I just…I was just trying to be a good teacher, trying to teach my older sister how to kiss. I swear.
It wasn’t my fault that it turned into a few hours of making out, okay! And afterwards, when I heard Bri getting off, I joined in because…well, it would be rude not to. Right? I didn’t want to give her, like, bad self-esteem or whatever. But I swear, I’m not a lesbian.
The next day was awkward. We awoke, dressed, and went to school without saying anything. The tension was so obvious at breakfast that even Mum picked up on it.
“What happened?” she kept asking, looking between the two of us. “What happened? Tell your mother…you can trust your mother. Tell mother what happened. Tell Mum what happened.”
I knew that I could trust Mum, and that I could talk to her about anything, even sexual stuff…especially sexual stuff. But I didn’t even understand what had happened yet. I wanted to run through it in my own head before I even thought about talking about it with my mother.
Mum dropped us off, we went our separate ways, and we didn’t see each other again until that afternoon, when we both got home. We headed to our room, and stripped out of our school uniforms.
Now, normally Bri and I would unclothe separately, in different rooms. Normally we’d do it at different times, or at least one of us would go and change in the bathroom, but on that day, the day after we…the day after I taught Bri how to kiss, we undressed at the same time, in the same room, without ever breaking eye contact.
It was while we were stripping that I started to admit a few things, even if only to myself.
While Bri was peeling off her stockings, I finally confessed, in my own brain, that yes, I’d brought myself off twice last night, just thinking about her body, thinking about how her lips had felt, and about how much I’d enjoyed her roaming hands, touching my legs and my waist and my arse and my boobs. While Bri was unbuttoning her blouse, I admitted that I’d drifted off at least three times today in class, imagining us doing the same thing (and more) without our nighties on. When Bri’s sexy little black bra came into view, I realised that while I’d been playing with myself, I’d also been wondering if that was how her pussy felt, too, if she’d enjoy it as much as I did if I ran my fingers over her clit…
I’m not a lesbian. Really, I’m not. I’d spent the whole day at school looking at girls, imagining kissing them, and none of them did anything for me. I don’t like girls, I like guys. I like guys…and my twin sister. I can’t explain it, but it’s true.
And it’s something that I couldn’t even admit to myself, that I had a huge crush on my twin sister, that she turned me on, and that I wanted to do what we’d done last night again and again and again. It was something that I couldn’t admit…until I was standing there in our bedroom, watching her step out of her skirt, watching my twin sister Brianna standing in front of me, wearing nothing but a bra and panties…
And all the time I was watching her, and finally admitting some hard truths to myself, she was watching me undress. She was watching me undress, and she was breathing harder and harder, faster and faster.
We didn’t say a word, we just moved towards each other slowly, and started to kiss again. It was just as good as I’d remembered it being: better, as there was more of her skin touching mine. I felt electricty on my lips as she kissed them, my legs felt alive everywhere her fingers moved over them. When she moved her mouth down to my neck and started to kiss and bite me, my eyes rolled back in pleasure, and my brain turned off…
…I didn’t think again until a few hours later. We were lying, naked in my bed, legs and arms intertwined, both of us soaked in sweat and juices and saliva. I’d brought Bri off three, four, maybe five times, and she’d done the same to me. It was the most intensely sexual feeling I’d ever had, nibbling on my sister’s pussy and looking up to see her face contorted in pleasure. She’d suckled on my breasts as her fingers pumped in and out of me, and I’d left more than a few hickeys on her neck and inner thigh.
Other than “Oh god”s, moaning and the occasional high-pitched squeal, we still hadn’t spoken, and I knew this was the time.
“Bri…-” I started, but she cut me off.
“Want to go again?”
I just nodded.
After that, we were inseparable. Bri seemed to be as constantly horny as I was, and every chance we got, we would sneak off somewhere and get each other off – we got adept at using our mouths, our hands…if we needed to, we could get each other off in less than 5 minutes, standing up, without removing any clothes. Every chance we got to be alone, we were at least making out (if not much, much more) and even when there were other people around, we were always holding hands or touching in some way.
I’ve always loved Bri – she’s my sister! But despite what they taught us in school, I didn’t find myself falling in love with her or anything like that. I loved her as a sister, even when I was touching her in an utterly non-sisterly way. I wasn’t in love with her, I just thought she was pretty fucking sexy; a sentiment I’m sure she reciprocated.
One time, we both had a free period at the same time, so we snuck into the girl’s bathroom, and spent the entire 40 minutes in a cubicle, playing a game we called ‘nipps’ – seeing how much we could turn each other on, just using our nipples. First girl to touch herself (or the other) loses.
Another time, we were at Youth Group, and I noticed Bri give me a strong look, immediately after she asked if she could be excused. We snuck off to the empty church next to our meeting, and “did it” at the pulpit. It was so naughty…and the fact that anyone could have come looking for us at any point, caught us fucking in the house of God really added something for some reason.
The closest we ever got to getting caught was when Mum came into our room, late at night, without knocking. Bri was under the covers, going down on me at the time – I guess I must have been moaning pretty loudly. When Mum came in, she just thought Bri was in the loo, and she stood there chatting to me for quite a while. Bri must have been feeling cheeky, because she didn’t stop. Little minx; I had to keep making conversation with Mum even while I came. (if Mum suspected anything, she didn’t let on. She just asked if I was feeling okay, right before she left, and reminded me that I could tell her anything, that I shouldn’t have any secrets from mummy.)
The most public we ever did anything was at the movies. Mum, Dad, me and Bri all went, and Bri was sitting at the very end, with me next to her and Dad next to me. It was a James Bond flick, and while Dad was engrossed, neither me or Bri found it very interesting at all. Without anyone noticing, I managed to get my hand up her dress, and brought her off during the film. She came during a particularly loud action sequence; anyone who heard anything would have thought the screams were coming from the film.
All the time we were doing this, sneaking around, sleeping in each other’s beds, getting each other off any chance we got – while everything was happening, I just couldn’t get over how sexy we were. I mean, Brianna is insanely sexy, and I know that I’m considered a bit of a looker, but I mean…the whole thing. The fact that we were twins, and the underwear we wore…
Oh yeah, the underwear. I don’t remember how it came up, but I was talking to Mum and we were discussing underwear. (Mum’s cool about stuff like that; I know I can talk to her about anything. Especially sex. I trust my mother.) Anyway, by the end of the conversation, she’d said we could borrow her credit card and go lingerie shopping – she didn’t even act like she was doing us a huge favour, she was really pushing for it! I would have invited her to come along, but I sort of wanted to just go with Bri, y’know?
The trip started with us looking at fairly conservative stuff, but then our competitive sides took over. I would suggest something for Bri that was a little bit saucier than she’d normally wear, she’d come back with something twice as naughty. It wasn’t until we were both trying on thongs and peephole bras, comparing areola sizes and mock-spanking each other’s arses that we realised we’d attracted an audience.
For some reason, this really fueled our fires. (mine definitely, at least, and by this point I’d gotten pretty good at reading when Bri was turned on.) We pretended not to notice the small crowd of guys (and a few girls) looking through nearby knickers, trying to give off the appearance of innocent shoppers, and started role-playing a tiny bit. I pretended to be dominant, tried out some leather stuff…Bri pretended to be my obedient servant girl, and tried the French Maid outfit we’d laughed at when we first entered the store. Then we found some cuffs and whips…
Ten minutes later, the crowd had grown so large that we were worried about someone we knew coming by; we bought far too much stuff, and went home. We weren’t in the house five seconds when Bri jumped her – performing for the crowd had gotten her as worked up as it had me.
It’s a good thing that Dad wasn’t home, and that Mum didn’t come out of the study; Brianna and me would have had a tough time explaining why we were naked in the living room, let alone why I was spanking her…
Anyway, like I was saying, I got sort of obsessed by how sexy we were, as a couple. That day in the store did nothing but amplify my obsession. Two hot young twins who had sex with each other – people would pay by the bucketload to see something like that. Not that I wanted to put anything online or anything like that, but I wanted to see what it looked like. Every time me and Bri were having “alone time”, I couldn’t stop trying to imagine what it looked like. I couldn’t get the image out of my head. I knew we were hott, but…how hott?
I dunno how obvious it is, but…”talking” isn’t exactly our strong spot, as a family. Mum and Dad once went six months without talking to each other, and it’s something that me and Bri must have inherited.
Talking to Mum is great. I love talking to my mother; I can tell Mum anything. I should tell Mum everything. But…well, even after we hit our two-month sexiversary, Bri and I still never sat down and had a talk about what we were doing or anything like that. We just did it.
Fortunately, we’ve always been on the same wave-length: it’s a twin thing, y’know? And I think this shared secret has brought us even closer in terms of how we think – it’s like we share a brain lately. If I ever want to change up our sex stuff, I don’t even have to say anything – I just do it, if Bri doesn’t beat me to it. It’s crazy.
So I decided not to ask Bri about taking photos. I figured if she didn’t want to, she’d probs make that pretty clear pretty quickly. I went and got Dad’s camera out of the basement! (by this point, Dad had moved on from his photography craze and onto board games. I swear, if he made us settle Catan one more time…) and next time me and Bri were alone in our room, I pulled it out from the bedside drawer where I’d stashed it.
I assume every girl has their own little sexy faces – faces that tell you that they’re turned on, and which help turn you on even more. Bri has at least a dozen, and when she saw the camera I was watching carefully to see her reaction. She bit her lip nervously and moaned…before I’d even taken the lens cap off! It was so cute, and so fucking hot. I’d learned to read Bri’s faces pretty well, and this was an easy one – she was excited, in both senses of the word.
When we’re feeling playful, I’m always the dominant one. I dunno why; maybe Bri is just naturally submissive, or maybe it’s because when this all began, I was the teacher and she was the student. We love playing servant and mistress, or mummy and naughty daughter. (we’ve been playing that one more and more lately.) With the camera in my hand, and Bri kneeled in front of me, looking so cute and obedient, I decided to really get into it, and started telling her what to do.
“Stay still, I need to get focus. Oh great, it’s got an auto…okay. Stay there. Smile up at the camera. Bite your lip a little. No, actually, lick your lips. Yeah, that’s great. Mmm. Okay, now unbutton your blouse a bit. Don’t look down, keep eye contact with the camera! Come on Bri, show a bit of cleavage. Yeah, I know you don’t have much…don’t look at me like that! Do the best with what you’ve got. Okay, great. Now unbutton a few more…oh wow, I didn’t know you were wearing that bra today. How did you get away with that in dance? No, wait. Don’t talk. Shut up…bitch.”
I’m not great at playing dominant, but Bri really gets into it. Sometimes I set her random tasks throughout the day – stuff like “you can’t use your thumbs”, or “whenever mum is in the room, you have to touch yourself without her noticing”. If she doesn’t do it right, she gets a spanking. I’ll completely forget about them, but she’ll come back to me at the end of the day and tell me exactly how many times she broke the rules, and how many smacks she deserves to get as punishment. Like I said, she really gets into it.
“Okay, now show me a nipple. Just one. Make it look like an accident. Oh man, these are turning out great! Okay, now put one finger in your mouth, and show the camera how naughty you are. You’re a naughty girl, aren’t you? You’re a naughty girl, and you need a spanking from your mummy. You want Mum to spank you. You want to be spanked by your mother.”
That night, we only took a few dozen photos before we both got too horny to continue. Taking a few snaps before setting the camera aside and enjoying each other’s young bodies became part of our nightly routine; over the next week or so, we went from slightly naughty photos of Bri in all her various naughty undies, to full nudes, to her spreading her legs for the camera to short videos (the camera could take videos of up to about 2 minutes) of her masturbating, cumming while staring at the camera and screaming my name. She took some shots of me, too – my favourite was one she took from behind, of me on all-fours, showing off my arse and pussy and swinging tits, looking back at her and smiling.
I loaded a whole heap of Bri’s photos onto my phone. I liked looking at them when Bri wasn’t around. That’s probably the closest we’ve come to being caught – Mum asked if she could borrow my phone, and it wasn’t until half an hour later that I realised what I’d done. Fortunately she hadn’t found any of them – she was just backing up my contacts onto her computer. Close call!
Things really escalated when we discovered one of the camera’s attachments let you set a timer, so you can take a photo every hour or every ten minutes or whatever. Dad got it so he could do those time-lapse things, like they do on Breaking Bad. I set it to take a snapshot every ten seconds, and got in front of the camera with Bri.
It was, and keep in mind that it had some pretty tough competition, one of the hottest sessions we’d ever had. It was just what we’d normally do, but angled slightly towards the camera, but thinking about the images, the fact that we’d be able to look at these forever, the idea of photos leaking out onto the internet, and thousands of guys and girls getting off to images of us kissing, playing, fucking…
It just made everything so much more electric. When I was sucking on Brianna’s nipples, I wasn’t just sucking on her nipple, I was forever capturing the image of one sexy teenager pleasuring another…when I was spanking her, I wasn’t just spanking her, I was punishing my bitch, for the world to see…when I came, I wasn’t just cumming, I was broadcasting my orgasm to everyone with a computer, showing everyone how horny, how wet, how sexually charged I was…we were amateur pornographers, and it was so damned hot.
I really didn’t think it could get any hotter than that, but when the camera had run out of battery and we lay back, exhausted, cuddled up on my bed, Brianna whispered something in my ear. Something that I knew was fundamentally and logically a terrible idea, but an idea so hot that I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist it.
“Bec,” she whispered. “Let’s get caught.”