formal

“Guys and Girls at a Bar,” part 2 of the “It was supposed to be about incest” arc.



Copyright CopperSkink (or Copper’s Kink; whatever turns you on), January One, Two Thousand Ten.



All players eighteen and older, even graduated from high school.



Circa 2066 (subject to change depending on how well I organize my notes in the next several months), located in the (fictional) charming town of Rotterdale, North Carolina, halfway up the coast and about ten miles in on foot.



“Bombshell Manor” and “Tranquil Breeze Garden” are explained in previous (to be posted) chapters, so look forward to them coming out.



*



“Ugh…” I said to greet the morning. Someone had been so kind as to build the house to accept Eastern sunlight in the mornings, yet no blackout curtains were drawn. “Who’s packing?”



There was a little noise littered throughout the room. Both male and female, people waking up, getting dressed. There was also a warm body tucked into me, ass first, just the way I like it. Neither of us had clothes on, and the liquor had released its hold on my dick, allowing it to explore the creature’s ass.



“Breakfast in a few minutes,” someone called from outside. My eyes shot open, along with many others if I judged the complaints correctly, and once again I, along with everybody else, wished I could go back in time and shoot Newton in the head for inventing gravity. Going up was fine, but coming down was a bitch.



“Mmm… morning,” the girl tucked into me said to me. I felt her crane her neck around to kiss me, and her hand reached back to pet my cock, poking at her backside. My eyes opened, and…



“Oh hey, Beck.”



“Hey,” my little sister said back at me, finishing our kiss before peering around the room a few times. I took a look around as well.



Sam was sprawled out on the bed by himself, no surprise there. A few of the girls were in a general pile next to the bed, with Dree and Bill here or there. One more unidentified groan told me Sara had been sleeping somewhere behind me.



We all got dressed in what we came in, and we looked a pretty ridiculous bunch heading downstairs. Me and my boys in slacks, the girls in dresses that were pressed and clean and glamorous the night before with styled hair. This morning, their hair was… something. Becky looked somewhat passable with her hair just straightened, but she still looked ridiculous in her dress and heels, mingling with the remaining crowd. Sara and her adventurous criss-crossed breasts were the worst, though.



A dozen other people had stayed the night, but I learned that they were all related to the owners of the house or else they went to school at the Garden. The residents were the mothers of the headmistress of the garden, a pair of eighty-something women who thought we all looked very humorous in our dancing shoes.



Throughout breakfast, Becky was quite flirtatious with all the boys and girls at the largish table, but her naked foot was running itself along my leg all morning. The fact that I knew she wanted me and that she wanted to save our first time for something special was making me hard as shit despite all the times I came the night before. I only hoped I could keep her attention long enough to collect.



We all got home in good time, except I had to turn around and head right to classes. I missed my early one; not good. The rest went by in a rather slow blur, and I was fucking exhausted by five in the evening when I was finally free.



I dragged myself by way of the tram to Julie’s, where a stool was waiting for me.



“Wotcher, handsome,” said Jess the barmaiden with a pitcher of delicious foam for me.



I gave her a casual wave of my aching hand. Computer technology into its fifth decade, and this stupid school still has us writing with pencils.



“Down and out today?” she asked in her sultry bartender voice.



“He’s just pissed he hasn’t gotten any from a ‘special someone’,” Bill’s voice said from next to me. I hadn’t noticed him before; I popped him one on the arm.



“Aww… le povre,” she said sympathetically. “I’ll go to bed with you any time you ask, you know.”



I groaned rather than answer. Jess was a nice piece of tail, but now she just seemed like every other dolphin in the sea, especially after having fucked her already. She turned off to handle (and flirt with) someone else further down the bar.



“Don’t worry, stud, you’ll get her.”



This new voice had me puzzled. I craned my head to look down the bar past Bill, and… “Sally? What’re you doing here?”



“Drinking,” she said with some incredulity. “What’d you expect, dancing on the bar?” That voice somehow reached all the way to my testicles. Sally had been good in bed from what I had seen. Too good. It wasn’t natural.



Dree was there, moping as usual. Sam, uncharacteristically, wasn’t. He arrived a half hour later, and he seemed grumbly at the thought of sharing a bar with his sister, but soon he was drinking his problems away with the rest of us. Salamandy was loving it, chatting away a storm despite no one listening to her. She was on her phone half the time as well; he heard about half the news of the entire town relayed through her in the time it took us to get through three pitchers. It was like she had no code at all.



Then, to the surprise of some and the causal interest of others, an adorable blond with a stereotypically perky outfit pulled up a seat next to me. “Bartender!” she hollered, “Is there any beer in this place?” She then turned to me. I was already staring at her in disbelief.



“Hi!” she said warmly. “Remember me?”



I gave her a blank stare. What’s with all these woman at our bar?



“Cindy? From last night?”



“I remember,” I said somewhat modestly, though I couldn’t really tell her from her twin yet. “What’re you…”



“I heard a bunch of people were gonna be here,” she said whimsically. She distracted herself with her new beer and peanuts. “How’s it goin’?”



“Sara? Is that you?” came a rather loud noise from my right. Salamandy had surely already noticed her sister’s appearance, and the annoying effect was lost on none of us. “Where’s Cindy? I thought you two were attached at the wrist!”



Despite her rudeness, she was right. I can’t remember having ever seen the twins apart before.



“Bite me,” Cindy snarled at her sister eloquently. “So, come here often?” she turned back to me.



“More and more, it seems,” I said, still in a daze. Why was she talking to me?



In the next hour it took us to polish off two more pitchers, Salamandy and Cindy continued to dominate the conversation that took place, but Cindy only seemed interested in talking to me. She wasn’t just talking, either. Her dangling feet bumped into mine every so often, and she would accentuate what jokes she told by leaning up against me momentarily and touching me on the hand whenever I said anything to her out of sheer courtesy.



She was making me feel in a way I hadn’t felt in years. Whenever she touched me, excitement shot through my veins. I was actually getting hard from her flirting. That hasn’t happened to me since I was a freshman in high school, shortly before “The Beast” took my soul. The more she talked to me, and the more she flirted with me, the more she started to grow on me. Compared to her sister Salamandy, she had exceptionally golden hair, automatically making her seem the more adventurous and exciting of the two, but her eyes spoke of a maturity that belied her age. She was nowhere as whimsical or as silly as Sally: the things she had to say spoke more of sophistication and dignity, and she wasn’t insulting when she spoke. As I understood it, the two sisters were almost the same age, separated by only a few months. Yet where Salamandy’s future seemed to be in waiting tables, I could see Cindy running board meetings in a smart suit. She was classy.



Evening was getting mature, time for the older crowd to start coming in for dinner, which meant was time for us younger kids to head out and find some way to kill the rest of the Saturday. After we paid our compliments to the ever-attentive Jess, we turned and headed out.



Cindy caught up with me at the door before I could group up with my boys for protection, and she clutched onto my arm. “Wanna go for a walk? she asked sweetly.



I looked left and right, but everyone else was too involved in their non-involvement to notice. I was trapped.



She was already dragging me down the street off towards nowhere before I could answer. “So… what’re you doing in college?”



“I donno, trying to figure out what I want to do with my life,” I answered lamely.



“That’s cool. I don’t know either, so I think it’s a good idea to just take it easy for a few years. As long as you got a home to go home to and money from your parents to keep going to school, right?”



“Uhh… yeah.” I wasn’t used to this. I hadn’t done any dating in forever; not that I felt like I was on a date, but I’m not used to sharing with women. Had I a chunk of change in my pocket to do something with, I would’ve just lubed her up with a few smooth words on our way to a hotel room. Had she not been my boy’s sister, that is. I have rules when we’re not all in the same room.



“Sara wants to be an electrical engineer, but I can’t make heads or tails of the designs she shows me. I want to be a fashion designer, so I go talk to the people in town that have to do with fashion, you know. Mistress Melody, Granny Nikki, Leslie; that crowd.”



None of whom I’d ever met, but all three of them were names on Main Street in Downtown Rotterdale; they ran a dresses-by-order business, an art studio, and a lingerie shop respectively.



“I spend some time modeling for money, but that usually means I see more of raven-beak than I’d like to, you know what I mean…”



“Raven-beak” was the household nickname for the two black-haired girls in Sam’s house, including Salamandy, whom no one really seemed to like. It was a fitting nickname, for as far as I knew, the rest of their brothers and sisters were all blond.



“But it’s some decent money, and you meet a few people now and then. You know?”



“Hang on,” I said, trying not to be rude, “I don’t mean to be rude, but… is there a particular reason you’re singling me out?”



She stopped dead in her tracks to shoot me a look of horror. I wasn’t buying it, so I raised my eyebrows and waiting.



“Fine,” she huffed. “I need a date to the dance, and Sara’s already taking someone.” She had dropped my arm and was standing stock-still in her sunflower sandals with her arms crossed, looking pointedly in a different direction.



“…We just had the dance,” I said obviously. “Or do you mean the high school dance? That’s like a month away.”



“That’s the Senior Ball; I mean the Garden Promenade,” she said impatiently. “So, will you go with me?”



“Why me? I thought it was, begging your pardon, Sara that had an eye on me, and you were with Bill and Drivved.”



“I donno; she said she was going with someone, and I have to go, and you seem like a nice guy, so…”



“You have to go? You sound like you don’t want to. And I thought the Garden hosted that dance from last night. And you go to Cameron anyway.”



“That was just a party,” she said impatiently. “The real dance is next week. It’s the official yearly ‘coming of age’ party for former students. Anyway, if I go, I have to have a date, and like I said, I wanted to go with Sara, but she’s taking someone, and I know you don’t have a date, so will you go with me, or not?”



“I donno; what kind of a dance is it? Is anyone else I know gonna be there?”



“A couple people; I donno… It’s like a regular school dance with food and dancing and a band. You have to wear shoes and slacks and a shirt like last night. Okay?”



I tried not to let my eyes roll. I’m used to girls tripping over themselves to get dates for a dance they absolutely had to go to, but this girl thought of it as a chore. I admit, I was intrigued.



“Why do you even want to go?”



“I owe it to my teachers,” she explained patiently. “When I went to school there, they had every kind of activity to do: Games, sports, music, drawing, pottery, whatever, and you could learn at your own pace. If you ever didn’t understand anything, there were oodles of teachers on standby to help you with whatever. By the time I got to high school, I already knew everything they taught. The only reason I go is to learn to socialize, apparently. Did you hear what happened with Drivved’s sisters?”



“Them? Didn’t they take off somewhere?”



“No; I mean, they went straight to Laurel. All three of them have doctorates, and Holly, the youngest, is hardly even eighteen. I hear all three of them got recruited to work for some space program.”



“So… what does this have to do with…?”



“Did you like high school?”



“I have to think about that for a s… no, I didn’t like it.”



I don’t like it either. I don’t even wanna go to their stupid Senior Ball; everyone’s just gonna be off acting like sluts all night and ditch early to go get a room upstairs.”



We had gone back to walking, and she stopped us in a big park full with a children’s section full of goodies to ride on. She sat us down on a bench nearby a flock of kids enjoying themselves.



“So it’s not really my thing,” she continued, “but the Promenade at the Garden is a bit special to me. Like I said, I was just gonna go with Sara, but since she seems so busy…” I knew a woman’s fury when I heard it, “I thought maybe you’d wanna go.”



“Why her? Aren’t you supposed to take boys to dances?”



She was losing her patience. “Girls go with girls all the time; nobody cares if you’re gay or anything at the Garden.”



“But… your sister?”



It was her turn to raise her eyebrows.



“Nothing, nothing…”



“So?”



“I guess…”



“Great. Come on.” She pulled me to my feet and dragged me by the hand off to a huge house that had its back to the park.



“And we’re going…?”



“To meet my dad. We have to clear our dates with him well in advance if we want to live.”



Suddenly I found myself not wanting to meet Sam’s father, not at all.



“Look,” she said, turning me to face her, “you wanna fuck me, don’t you?”



She had turned on the charm. Carefully mascaraed eyelashes, delicate pink lipstick, and faintly rosed cheeks made her into quite the alluring young lady. Her lips were parted and she was gazing up at me with a kind of hunger. Again, I didn’t buy it. This was how I expected Salamandy to behave; Cindy and Sara seemed above this kind of nonsense. Disappointing, really



“The thought had crossed my mind,” I said honestly enough, hoping it was the right thing to say, “but haven’t we already…”



“That was Sara you were with last night. So? How about it?”



“Well, yeah. I wouldn’t mind, I mean.”



“Then act like it in front of my dad.” She clutched me close again and pulled me to the back door of the house.



“Daddy, this is Derrick,” she said a few minutes later.



A short man with pale blond hair greeted us. He was stocky with farm-hand muscles I had come to expect from people that grew up in the Garden; from my brief time with Salamandy and her twin sisters in the buff, both were soft on the outside, but they were equally hard with polished muscle. I could easily see him as being Sampson’s father.



“Samson Campbell,” he said behind a frown and an extended hand. His little girl was clutching to me as though I was the love of her life, and I could feel his protectiveness of her when he crushed my hand in his. Strong indeed.



“Derrick invited me to the dance at the Garden,” Cindy lied. “May we go?”



“We’ll see,” he said behind a scowl. “Your sister’s waiting for you upstairs. Derrick, would you mind joining me in my office?”



Oh, shit. What the fuck has she gotten me into? But as he turned his back to lead me, Cindy flash me a winning grin and winked at me; she was expecting this. She bolted upstairs to be reunited with her twin.



I followed the man through a few rooms; I took a moment to look around. This house had a reputation for having the most children under its roof next to the Garden itself, yet there wasn’t a spot of mess anywhere. I heard Garden students learned to work their backs and keep their living spaces clean; this discipline surely leaked into this man’s house.



The final door was through the huge kitchen, where several people I didn’t recognize were amusing themselves with various concoctions. I had been half-expecting to see Sam somewhere, but to no avail. I was led through the door, and suddenly I was wishing I was back in the bar.



It stank. Burning. Chemicals. Rot. Not at all the comfortable chair I was hoping for in what was surely going to be an interview. I could see the questioning process was going to be completely painful.



“Where’re you from, son?” he asked me after offering me a seat.



“Life-long Bomb,” I said, citing the high school mascot.



He nodded noncommittally. “How long’ve you known Cindy?”



There’s a question I wasn’t prepared for. Then again, if I needed to study in advance, shouldn’t Cindy have warned me? “We just met, actually,” I said as casually as I could, but I could feel my heartbeat racing. “I’m friends with Sam; he introduced us at the dance last night.”



He scoffed. Damn. “I’ll have you know this dance isn’t like these parties you kids are used to. The Promenade takes place at Tranquil Breeze Garden, where there are no private rooms to escape to afterwords.”



“I… hadn’t even thought about it,” I stammered. Truthfully enough.



“I’m an intelligent man,” he countered. “And you, you’re how old?”



“Twenty-one, sir,” I said, trying to keep things as clean as possible.



“College?”



“Laurel, sir.”



“Then I assume you’re an intelligent man as well, and intelligent people think. But no matter what you may or may not be thinking, my daughter is still in high school, and she still lives under my roof. Need I expound?”



“No, sir.”



The rest of the conversation went on like that. It never got easy; the questions themselves weren’t hard, but I felt embarrassed when I couldn’t tell him what my plans for the future were or when I had to tell him I was still living at home with no graduation in sight and no career lined up. No matter what my answers were, he never flinched.



“Have you ever been to the Garden?” was his next question. Something I didn’t expect.



“No, but I’ve heard about it.”



“You may have come to understand that its former students who attend Cameron High aren’t exactly in need of the education they offer there?”



“Cindy said something about that, yeah.”



“It’s a social experiment, you see,” he explained. “They don’t do much teaching at high schools; it’s more of a way to keep young people off the streets and out of trouble for the majority of the day. They also learn social behavior before they get dumped into what we like to refer to as ‘the real world’.



“I decided to install my children into high school for this experience; wheres others… you know Timber?”



“Drivved’s brother, right?”



Samson nodded, “My son with Drivved’s mother. She chose not to put her five in high school; Timber, being my eldest, tended toward her influence. Tell me, what is your view of ‘the real world’?”



I had to think for a minute. “It sucks,” I said after exactly one minute.



“Exactly. The Garden is not like this. People treat one-another with respect. Everyone works hard towards a common goal, and everyone achieves his or her own dreams through cooperation, and everyone takes their fair share of cleaning up after everyone else.



The Senior Ball hosted by Cameron High is for the seniors to engage in rather unscrupulous behavior as a reward for their year-long unscrupulous behavior. At the Garden, the Promenade is more of a dignified gathering of those who live to be eighteen. There are teachers from both the Garden and from Cameron as well as professors from Laurel, and there are parents.

“Do you know the difference between an engagement and a wedding?”



Somehow, this man with twenty-something children didn’t strike me as the marrying type. Especially after knowing Sampson. “Nothing’s coming to mind.” What the fuck was he getting on about, anyway?



“An engagement is for the couple. They already know their future lies together, so it’s a simple giving of a ring and a nice dinner once things are decided. Possibly a romantic evening, the removal of prophylactics from the bed.”



Okay, maybe this guy’s cool after all.



“A wedding,” he continued before he made me blush, “is for the family. You get married, the people you know want to see, and kiss, your bride. Or husband; we from the Garden do not discriminate. But you see, the wedding holds no particular interest to the couple; they made their decision back at their engagement. Do you understand?”



“I suppose I do.”



“Of course you don’t; you’re too young to be worrying about that kind of thing. Remember only that all of my children are very important, and not just to me.”



“I will, sir.”



“Then we have nothing more to discuss. Dress smartly, yes? A sweater and corduroys will be acceptable, but slacks and a tie will work if you’d feel more proper.”



I don’t know why, but after he let me out of his awful room, I found myself wanting very much to fuck his daughter. For the time that she’d been sitting next to me, I thought I’d hit that already, so I found my own interest surprising. But that he was so protective of her as well as learning that she was still untapped territory made her seem very much appealing. My manhood once again came to attention. I would have to get something done about that, though I still had school that morning.



******



With seven days gone by, I was roasting away in my cozy bedroom, being myself. I had mostly forgotten about the whole thing. I was sent home without saying goodbye to Cindy, and the week went on. With the high school dance coming up, Becky found herself rather busy, but I seemed to keep fantasizing about her. Rather than jack off to the image of my sister, who was becoming more and more perfect in my eyes, I just kept my hands off.



Knock knock knock.



Becky.



“Hey, baby,” said in my warmest voice upon welcoming her in. She looked pissed.



“Call for you,” she said frigidly.



“…And?”



“It would seem that your ‘date’ will be waiting for you with your ‘ride’ at the horse stables Downtown.”



I can’t remember having seen her so angry. Her arms were crossed firmly, but she looked so adorable with her hair curling out of control. I just wanted to gather her into my arms and kiss every inch of her.



“Thanks, Beck,” I said instead. I turned to go get ready, but she remained.



“Going somewhere tonight?”



“Yeah, there’s this thing down at the orphanage. There’s this girl needed me to be her fall-back; guess the other guy backed out.”



“I hope you have a wonderful time,” she said. She couldn’t have made herself more clear if she had shouted. I felt sick to my stomach from the time I stepped into the shower to get ready to the moment I stepped off the trolley to the Downtown waiting area.



I could see giddy couples converging in their eveningwear; I let my eyes wander rather than engage, waiting for my date. Cindy met me in a glamorous dress that did her body justice, and she was wearing those same sunflower sandals that reminded me of that moment I decided wanted her. Her yellow dress matched perfectly and glittered with sequins. Next to her, Sara was dressed to match, wearing a rose-colored dress with rosepetal sandals.



“Derrick! There you are!” called Cindy when she saw me approaching one of the carriages that was to purvey us to the dance. Sara came with her; I took pity on them and met them halfway for the sake of their outfits. They collided with me and each kissed me on a cheek.



“Cindy,” I said somewhat warmly, aiming a kiss on her cheek, but she intercepted me and got it on the lips. I was much happier to see her than I had expected; it took my mind off my grumpy sister. “Sara, date not here yet?”



I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to shake her hand or kiss her as well. But they glanced at each other, then each took a hand of mine and pulled me past the carriages to the door of the art studio. A blank “Closed” sign punctuated the door, but Cindy pressed the face of her watch to the locking mechanism, and the door popped open. They pulled me inside and shut the door after me.



“There was a slight mix-up,” Cindy said.



“Your date didn’t show,” I said to Sara.



“My date didn’t show,” she repeated.



“So… we need you to do us a really big favor,” Cindy said. From the look on her face, I didn’t think I was going to like what the favor was. But then, maybe I should catch an early night after all, go cheer my sister up.



“It’s cool; I knew you two wanted to go together. I’ll head back…”



“We wouldn’t do that to you!” Sara interrupted.



“Yeah, we want you to take both of us!” Cindy finished.



I had to think about that one. “I donno… your dad seems kinda…” I had a whole speech prepared about how I should honor their father’s wishes because I feared him killing me, but they turned to one-another and kissed. And not just touching lips like Cindy and I had done, they were crushed together, hands wrapped tightly around bodies, mouths pried open with seeking tongues. A kiss like I’d had with Sara a week earlier.



My cock, untouched since last week, was making quite an effort against my tan slacks. Cindy’s experienced fingers dawdled along my belt line before plunging down my pants to take hold of me. Her cold fingers brought me to life; Cindy reached for her twin’s breast, and still their kiss went on.



“Please?” they then said together, cheeks pressed close. Cindy’s hand joined Sara’s on my cock.



I was excited to no end. I thought the girls weren’t down with this kind of thing, and my mind was alive with the possibilities. “I thought you girls weren’t down with this kind of thing,” I said with a catch in my voice.



Cindy looked at Sara, and Sara looked at Cindy. “Did I hear him correctly?”



“I think he said ‘down’.”



I think he said ‘down’ too.”



“Better do what he says.”



Cindy then, to my amazement, dropped to her knees. But not to face me, she leaned up against her twin’s legs. Her fingers slowly started to peel up the rose dress.



“We’re not,” Sara said firmly, looking me square in the eyes. “And it stays that way, do you understand?” Her dress had been pulled up to reveal her thighs; Cindy was planting gentle kisses on her tanned skin.



My mouth was watering. A few more centimeters, and a yellow thong came peeking out from under Sara’s rose dress. “Completely,” I affirmed.



“Good man,” Sara said, squeezing my cock. Cindy pushed her sister’s dress up just a bit higher, then planted a kiss square on her covered pussy. “When we get back, this place’ll be abandoned. Perfect, wouldn’t you say?”



“Umm… yeah,” I gasped. “Perfect.”



“It’s where we get photo shoots done. There’s a bed and everything.” Her hand was doing wonders on my cock; there was no way this girl was as good as her reputation lent her. I wanted her to pull my cock out of my pants, to jerk me off until she came on her panties, to make her sister lick it up. I didn’t want to go to the dance at all, not when there was a perfectly secluded bed waiting just a single flight of steps up.



Still, we went back out, all three of us very flushed, me holding Cindy tight in front of me as though I was so excited to have her around. Which I was, but it also held my erection out of sight. We all got onto the various carriages and took off.



The dance was a bust. While it was a nice place to be, it was every bit as stuffy as the girls’ father made it out to be. People from every stretch of education were there; it was something like an opportunity for former students to meet adults who could place them in the right schools or jobs.



Still, we danced, the three of us, and I got to dance with any number of other girls. One particular favorite of mine was a busty blond who was nearly as tall as I am; she said she taught at Laurel and that I should check out her sexual health class. Hearing her talking about sex for two hours at a time was definitely something I could get used to.



The headmistress came out and said her piece, but I was too distracted with my two dates. Though they had a lot of face to show for the people there, they stuck close by me and flirted with each other endlessly for my benefit. Their father also showed up, being an important figure from Cameron High. He checked on us frequently, and the girls always seemed to know when he was around and behaved immaculately as such, but he had far too many other children to look after to have enough eyes for us.



I kept thinking I’d run into Sam or Dree, since both were former “Sprouts” as formers of the Garden are known, but I had to remind myself that this was a party for the eighteen-year-olds, and the two of them were already in their twenties. I was only there because I’d been invited.
As to the “party” part of the party, there was dancing and eating and singing; the headmistress herself played bass guitar with a band containing a particularly attractive drummer and keyboarder. The girls went wild, and fun was had by all. Still, the night closed uneventfully, and those few of us who couldn’t stay in the school barracks headed out to the horse stables for the ride home. The twins, despite my fears to the contrary, joined me.



Fears, fears, and more fears. With my moments alone at the dance, I remembered my sister and the promise she made. Normally I don’t worry about her problems, but I couldn’t help but feel like I was her problem. And that was unacceptable.



The other part of my brain assured me that my sister was my sister, not my girlfriend, and that she’d take care of her own business, and that my business was to attend to the two sexy young ladies that promised to take good care of me once we were alone.



Speaking of alone, we pulled up to the Downtown stable, where those in town who got around on horseback left their mounts to go shopping. My blood was pulsing through my veins and through my cock, and the girls’ hands were joined together in my lap, both rubbing me through my pants. My arms were around them and I got plenty of ass in my hands that night.



When we got let out, we all stood around and chatted. I knew how it went; it would take some time for everyone to dissipate. Translation: The three of us sneaking unseen into the studio would take all night.



Cindy was the first to disappear, looking for a bathroom. Sara was next, looking for her sister. With half an hour gone, I was pretty sure everyone had forgotten about them, and I casually made my way away from the crowd to slip inside the studio.



The door was unlocked, but it locked itself up nice and tight when it closed around me. The small entry room was empty as ever besides the usual paintings and stairway, which I took. Up the stairs, I finally got somewhere.



“Took you long enough,” said a flushed Cindy, who was drinking out of a bottle of wine.



“…Where’s your sister?” I asked, almost too excited by what was about to happen to believe.



“She’s downstairs, taking a shower,” she said plainly. Her own hair was wet and her makeup was gone, but she still wore her yellow dress and matching sandals. At this point I was feeling tedious: Did she really want me? She wasn’t acting like it, but everything had gone according to schedule. My penis, standing around half-power, figured close enough.



From downstairs, I heard water being shut off. I didn’t notice it before, but it was a very welcome sound. Two minutes later, a very wet Sara stepped up, also back in her dress and sandals. Cindy’s face lit up when she saw her, and she offered her the bottle.



“So,” Sara said after a healthy drink of red wine, “refresh my memory. What is beef-boy doing here?”



“He’s the guy that volunteered to record us, remember?”



“Oh, of course. How silly of me.”



Record? But duh, the bed was lined with tripods loaded with cameras.



“Now, where were we?”



Again, Sara was looking at Cindy, not me. The twins had a way of being the only people in a room as far as they were concerned.



“I think I was on my knees in front of you,” Cindy said matter-of-factly.



“That’s what I thought. Beef-boy, you know how to run a camera?”



“Uhh… sure,” I stuttered, rushing over.



“Then get to it. Cindy, do you have anything to say to the camera before you begin?”



Cindy was already pulling her twin’s dress up like she had hours earlier. But to my surprise, she turned to me, saying, “Derrick, I’m sorry we were screwing with you, but it’s tough for Sara and me, not dating or anything. If you want, you can tell everyone I’m your girlfriend, and we can make out and public and stuff. Is that cool?”



“Plus, you get private shows,” Sara added as she pulled her sister’s face into her thigh. Cindy licked her there, and I admit it was difficult to turn them down.



“I… I guess…”



“Great. Cindy, as you were.”



I went ahead and pulled the camera off the tripod so I could get whatever angle I wanted. Cindy pulled Sara’s dress up high enough that the bright yellow thong was out in the open, and she kissed every bit of skin that was showing. I moved in nice and close rather than just zoom in, but they both smiled at me rather than chase me off. From that distance I could hear her lips popping off that wet skin every time.



“What do I do now?” Cindy asked sweetly. She was looking at me, not her sister.



“You’re asking me?” I huffed in disbelief.



“Yeah. I want you to get your money’s worth…”



I had to think about that for a m… “Kiss her pussy.”



“Thank you.”



That appreciation came not from Sara, but from Cindy, whose lips latched themselves on to her yellow thong worn by her sister.



“What will you girls do?” I asked hopefully.



“Dude, just tell us, don’t ask stupid questions,” Sara grumbled. She was starting to sigh, and Cindy was having to hold her hands back from moving the thong out of her way.



“Then I want you to to kiss,” I said. Sure enough, Cindy smiled and got to her feet, and she wasted no time in kissing her sister again. They shared a few simple pecks, and I waited for things to get more interesting, but as far as kisses went, it was boring.



I grunted. “What’s wrong?” Sara asked.



“Nothing, nothing,” I said as fast as I could. “It’s just, I thought you wanted to… you know…”



“You told us to kiss, didn’t you? Aren’t we kissing?”



“Yeah, but, you know, deeper.”



“Oh,” she said in sudden understanding. “You mean like this?” And she held Cindy’s face in her hands and plowed her mouth right open, digging deep with her tongue.



“No no no,” I interrupted again. “Not like that, more passionately.”



They backed it up a little bit, but all they did from there was wag their tongues together a little. It was pathetic to watch.



“No, like this,” I insinuated as I moved forward, but Sara blocked me.



“Hands on the camera,” she warned. “What are we doing wrong?”



I recovered from her rebuff; I wasn’t allowed to touch apparently, but it was still okay for me to direct the action. “Cindy, wet your finger,” I instructed.



Cindy held her hand up between her lips and her sister’s, extended her finger, and stuck her tongue out to meet it.



“Sara, you too. Her finger, not yours.” My heart was pounding again; there was no way I was gonna get away with this. Sara’s tongue poked out as well, and the two of them lovingly lathered Cindy’s finger with their saliva. It then dipped into Sara’s mouth, and Sara, bless her, began giving head to it. She then turned it into Cindy’s mouth, who did the same. I was suddenly very upset that my cock was staying in my pants.



“That’s enough,” I said after I got my concentration back. Both girls were cooing softly as they switched the finger between their two mouths. Cindy had taken to licking her finger as it slid between Sara’s lips, but she pulled it out obediently and held it still in the air between their faces, waiting for further instructions.



“Put it in her ass,” I said, hardly allowing myself to breathe.



Without so much as blinking, Cindy reached down her sister’s backside, pulled up her dress, reached under her panties and made Sara moan. I got down with my camera, and I saw what must have been the most perfect back end in my sexual career. Not a hair in sight; two perfectly-shaped pussy lips with a hint of pink squeezed in between and an adorable little asshole the exact same shade of pink. I got the most perfect view of a slender little finger pressing up against that delicate circle, and little by little, it pushed its way in. The most delicious moan came from Sara’s lips, making me abandon my post from her rear end to get her reaction from her face.



“Wait right there,” I said quickly, and I rushed up to flip one of the other cameras on. But why stop there? I turned the other two on as well, then I had the girls get onto the bed where all three cameras would be focused. Sara got in Cindy’s lap, and I got one tripod camera focused on their faces and one on her ass with the third taking a more full view.



“As you were, ladies,” I instructed.



The nifty cameras had each other’s views, and it took me all of eight seconds to learn how to use the controls on the one I was holding to zoom in on Sara’s ass and face simultaneously as Cindy’s finger took its second trip inside.



It was worth it. Sara’s face was all gone over in heavy pleasure, and Cindy was overly-excited by the effect she was having.



“Now let’s try again,” I said, my excitement growing all the time. “Sara, kiss your sister. I want you to lead.” I especially liked calling them “sisters” with the cameras listening, as though it wasn’t obvious enough that they were identical. Sara, her eyes heavy, now leaned forward with much more purpose, her hungry lips seeking out Cindy’s.



They met at last, and this time it was much slower, more purposeful. This was no longer silly posing for the camera, this was need. You could see the hair standing up on every exposed inch of Sara’s skin and you could smell the arousal coming from her. Every breath she took was spent crying for her sister’s lips.



Their lips melded together in sweet little kisses or just got squished between two passionate mouths. Their tongues slid out on occasion to wet lips and whet appetites. Sara would moan on occasion, and Cindy would respond by kissing her more deeply or pushing her finger deeper inside her asshole. I wanted more than anything to help them, but I knew what the rules were. I wouldn’t even touch myself; I needed both hands for the camera anyways.



The fine sheen of shower water that covered Sara was slowly being replaced by a sweet sweat. I wanted to lean down and taste it, but I couldn’t. But then, what was I in charge for?



“Cindy,” I said with my big-boy voice, “lick her once on the chest. Taste her sweat.”



Cindy broke the kiss at once to do what she was told, and just like I had envisioned, her tongue fell out of her mouth to slide, just once, along the length of Sara’s exposed chest from the bottom of the neckline of her dress all the way up to her neck, and she kept on going, licking her up her face until her tongue fell again into her mouth.



These two girls were amazing, the way they melded together. But even though I was sure they’d had experience together already, even they seemed surprised by the passion they were sharing at that moment.



Sara soon began gasping, “Fuck me,” in short breaths while making sure she didn’t lose her grip on Cindy’s lips. From the viewfinder on my hand-held, I could see one of the other cameras was capturing Cindy’s fingers drifting dangerously close to Sara’s pussy, which had soaked her panties.

“Ignore her,” I insisted, and happily, Cindy was still paying attention. She pulled her fingers away obediently. “Keep fingering her ass,” I reminded. “In fact, stop kissing. Just look into her eyes while you finger her ass.”



She did, and the effect was instant. I knew right away that for whatever they’d done together before, they probably never took the time to just look each other in the eyes. It was one of the things I wished I could do in bed, but the magic always broke with every, “Hang on, I’ve gotta make a phone call,” or whatever it was whichever girl I was in bed with had to say while I was trying to be romantic. The twins seemed perfectly enchanted with one-another, engaged in the simplest of sex acts, yet completely succumbing to the intensity of it. There was such longing in Sara’s eyes, and in Cindy’s was overpowering fascination.



**********



I can still smell the smell of their sex. Some weeks passed, and Becky wouldn’t talk to me. But oddly enough, she seemed to make sure I was in range to hear about her new boyfriend, who would be taking her to the Senior Ball at Cameron High a few days later. Cindy had invited me as per our official dating status, but I declined.



“Please? We really want you to go with us,” she had begged rather unemotionally.



I answered, “It’s one thing for me to take the two of you when Sara’s date drops out at the last minute, but I’m not taking you both to another dance; it’d be too obvious.”



“We’ll do something special for you,” she’d continued. “You think that last one was good? That was nothing.”



My heart may have skipped a beat at that, but I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be getting any; there’d just be another filming session. I still haven’t fucked Cindy yet, and my body was positively aching for her. I would be completely hard whenever I was around her, which was often. We boys could hardly meet up at the bar without her at least dropping in, her and her sister Salamandy. Sadie even started popping in, but she was just an annoyance.



But Cindy was every bit the submissive girlfriend in public, always interested in what I had to say while shying away from conversation with other boys. She flirted disgustingly with any girl that came near me, including Sally, which only made Sally want to clear out. But when Sara was around, I was always treated to at least a few private minutes of them kissing and telling one-another exactly how they wanted to make love that night.



I bet that if I had pressed it, I could’ve gotten Cindy into bed, but only just once, and I was enjoying the hope. The problem was that she genuinely didn’t seem interested. Sara was alright at the time, not to say that she wasn’t phenomenal in bed (or on the floor), but the two girls, their hearts just weren’t in it. I knew fully well that they loved sex with each other, but not with anyone else that I (or anyone) knew of. It was almost as if they were exclusive to one-another, only they were both way too skilled with a dick for me to believe that.



Back to Becky: She seemed in love with the idea of going to the Ball, and I couldn’t help but feel happy for her, but I was so damned pissed off at the same time. And why shouldn’t I be? I hardly ever got off any more, and that was just when I jerked mys… actually, I haven’t done that in weeks, come to think of it.



Not since the night I slept with Sara. Either way, Cindy put up with going with Sara, though I didn’t see why they didn’t want to include me in the first place except for me to make an appearance. Anyway, I was supposed to be dating one of them, not both. Then Becky, she still avoided me, but by the time the Ball rolls around, I’ll bet I’ll know more about her date than his own mother.



The day of course rolled around. It was a Friday like usual, giving Becky little more than two hours to get ready between getting home from school and having to get on the train to the hotel in the next town up, where the dance would go on. She positively clamored her way through the house for that two hours, cramming every minute into some productive means of getting her makeup just perfect, but by the time her date rolled around, she was screaming in fits.



“Bridezilla,” I chuckled to myself. I had mostly locked myself in my bedroom as soon as I got home from my own class, and I was there when she had gotten back to get ready. She never knocked on the door or anything before she headed out, so I never came out.



I’ll admit I was curious as to what she looked like after spending so much time getting ready, but I’m sure there’d be pictures. Suddenly the idea of some prick from high school going anywhere with my sister got me very upset, and I didn’t care to make a scene. That was my sister’s business, not mine.



*****************



She wasn’t home when I got back late Saturday night after classes and beer. Nor was she there the next morning, but Mom didn’t seem the slightest bit put-off; I’m sure that wherever Becky was, she had cleared it with her. She was finally around Sunday evening after I got back from Bill’s house and cards, where Bill had laughed us all out the door, our cash in his hand. The last sound we heard was Sadie purring up from behind him.



“Bit late for only staying over one night,” Ass-breath said as Becky came tuckered through the door.



Like I do, she ignored him, as well as me, and headed straight up for bed after saying two useless words to our mother. Ass tried challenging her ability to leave without his permission, but she blew right through him yet again. Brave of her, but she was eighteen and nearly out of high school. She could leave in as little as a month if she wanted to.



I took after her example and headed upstairs, but to my room rather than hers. I thought maybe she’d come talk to me as she sometimes did, but I got nothing. I just went to sleep, looking forward to another easy Monday of watching everyone else scramble for the first-of-the-week nonsense.



***



Another month went by. I stopped going out as much, and I stopped getting as many offers of romantic beds. The other boys saw the change in me I think, but Bill said to Sam that I was acting too much like Dree. I was too spaced out to think about it.



Cindy didn’t seem to notice. With me not paying any attention to her, she didn’t have to pay any to me, and she was free to conduct her business without putting on airs. She never mentioned what kind of time she had at the dance, and I didn’t ask. That’s for real couples.



I was fine to disappear in my studies, which suddenly seemed very lame, but classes dried up at the end of the season. I was looking forward to a relaxing summer to replace, but right in the thick of it I got swindled into going to Cameron High graduation.



“What for?” I had complained.



“Your sister’s graduation, obviously,” my mother said incredulously.



I went, but there was nothing special going on. It seemed like I knew half the girls that graduated, I’d even fucked some of them, but it didn’t hold any interest for me. Things didn’t get any more interesting later on when we took a train three towns over to find a restaurant that had a table for four.



While we sat around in wait, I did what I could to stay out of the conversation about “What’re you gonna do about the future?” that Becky had to put up with from our mom and the other guy, just like I did years earlier. After waiting long enough, I excused myself to the bathroom. I have this thing where I like coming back to a table loaded with hot food and me with clean hands.



When I stepped out the lavatory, Becky was there. Not using the restroom herself; she was waiting for me.



“Hey,” I said dumbly. Truth be told, we hadn’t spoken in months. We were never best friends for life, but we had never gone so long without even saying “howdy” once every blue moon. I don’t know when, but somewhere done the line I had become comfortable with it.



“Why weren’t you at the Ball?” she asked crossly.



“Didn’t feel like going,” I said as dispassionately as I could.



“Too busy off fucking your new girlfriend?” she accused.



Hmm.



“I don’t think ‘girlfriend’ is the proper word for it.”



“Oh, right. That’s my brother Derrick, the ladies’ man. Too much man for just one girl, aren’t you? But I’ll admit, you had me fooled for a while. I thought you were going steady with this one.”



“Who?” I asked in all honest curiosity.



“That blond whore, you idiot. Or was it even her you were with? Blow her off for her twin sister, did you?”



“I don’t know where you’re getting these ideas from, but Cindy and I don’t really…”



“Ha!” she interrupted. “So it’s true!”



I shook my head in confusion. “I know it seems like we’re dating, but Cindy didn’t really… we’ve never even fucked.”



“And Sara?”



“Of course not! Well, yeah, that one time, but you were there, too.”



“I thought you liked me, you jerk!”



Now I’m really confused. “Well, yeah, you’re my sister.”



“Is that really all? But don’t even say anything; I know how you really feel. You’d skip from me to the next girl without even telling her about us. You probably wouldn’t even break up with your last girlfriend properly first. At least I know you for the liar that you are.”



I was getting pissed now. Grabbing her arm, I demanded, “Where the fuck are you getting these ideas? I know that one party we were at was a little crazy, but after that I never even…”



“I know all about you and the twins, asshole! I know about the video!”



What video?”



“Don’t play dumb; I know you ditched the party at the orphanage so you could fuck both of them at that art shop.”



Enough was enough. “I don’t know who’s been telling you what, but I never did anything like that.” I walked away, leaving her behind.



“She practically bragged about it!” she called after me, but she wasn’t able to say anything else without attracting attention from the rest of the diners.



As I hoped for, food was there waiting for me when I got back. Unfortunately, I wasn’t in the mood. Becky was sat next to me, and she shunned any further conversation. It was only too obvious that we’d been fighting by the restrooms, but luckily enough no one wanted to make a scene about it.



Mid-way through, Becky started looking less angry and more sad. I tried to avoid her eyes, but several minutes later, I felt her foot rubbing up against my leg. I passed her a casual glance, but her eyes were still sad and downcast. I tried to ignore her; she was somewhat famous for her moods. Still, to go so long without talking to me and then blow up only to turn around and play footsie with me in the space of an hour, it was a bit puzzling, even for her.



Then I felt Becky’s naked foot sneaking up my pant leg. Dammit, my cock got hard again. Some months without a woman and my sister finally warming up to me, I felt like I was gonna come in my pants. Good thing I was already tucked well into the table, because Becky didn’t hold back. Every time she readjusted herself in her chair, her hand went to my lap for support, and I swear her fingertips lingered over my hard-on.



Then I got to imagine her foot, pulled free of her strap-on heel she called a shoe. Her spiderweb tattoo and black toenails only made me want to give up staring at her breasts in favor of her feet, and I’m a man who likes a pair of breasts. As graduation was a big deal, she was wearing a dress almost worthy of a school dance, and her choice for that day was cut low enough to let her bra do some wonderful things for me to get distracted by as I tried to eat.



And it seemed she noticed. Every time I would glance down her chest, she would rub against me more and find something she had to reach across the table for. Her beautifully-spun black hair would spill little by little out of its delicate, spindly nest and fall across her face here and there, complimenting her black makeup, though she had some color to her lips and eyes for the sake of being photographed in public.



We were sat in a booth thing, so Becky had every opportunity to squeeze in tight next to me. Her leg rested across mine, and I could feel her dress pull up to her hips. When her plate was taken away and we started looking over the dessert menu, she pulled in even closer to me, hands under the table, so she could share mine. And with her hands under the table, nothing was stopping her hand from sliding across my thigh non-stop.



Ordering dessert got us talking again, and in time it seemed as though Becky wasn’t upset anymore, which was a good thing for old Derrick. She still wasn’t talking to me, per se, but her hand finally pulled up high into my lap so her slow strokes moved only over my cock.



Dessert went on like that; though we had our own dishes, Becky and I shared with one-another, still so tight together that there wasn’t any room for our middle arms. Her left hand stayed on my cock the entire time, and my right arm was finally around her waist, feeling the hem of her dress. She only leaned further into me, still calmly petting my cock.



With conversation sparked back up, we were well into some wine (all around for the occasion) well past dessert. My hand lingered hopefully on Becky’s side, hoping for some kind of change, but when she gave me no support, I finally pulled her dress up past her hips and rested my hand on her bare bottom. Oh, the sweet, soft, feel of a woman’s ass in my hand once more it had been waaay too long. And to go with it, Becky sighed into my shoulder, even turned in to me, turning her ass further out into my hand and tossing her far leg into my lap.



Her ass was opened up to me, but I still didn’t feel as brave as I wanted. But in a while, my clutches turned to wanderings, and I reached closer and closer to her center as she had with my cock, and finally my fingers fell upon the faintest whisper of a thong protecting her from me. Her fingers immediately squeezed around my cock, making me stop.



I was a bit surprised, so I just held my ground, but I was afraid of her backing off. Shortly after, my braver half took over (she was still petting my cock under the table with her leg thrown across mine), so I began to pet her pussy over her thong.



I shouldn’t have worried; she began purring into me, undetectable by the two people sitting across from us. I felt moisture under my fingers, making me pull the thin scrap of cloth to the side and push an inch or two of finger inside her.



“Ahh!” she gasped rather loudly. We drew some attention, but she recovered in a flash, “I just remembered! Remember that one dessert I said looked gross because I couldn’t pronounce it? I remember what it was now! Can I have one?”



Mom and her sack of shit glanced at each other, but Becky kept pushing the bill, “Come on, for graduation? Only one in a lifetime, right?”



That did the job. They commemorated on the two of us getting along again, she could only smile awkwardly as I pushed two fingers farther up her pussy.



The new dessert arrived on two plates for the four of us to enjoy. Becky’s nose turned up at the sight of it, honestly disliking it, but I couldn’t resist but mess with her. Having been fingering her for several minutes then, I pulled my fingers out, jabbed them into the cake, then thrust them into her mouth.



Everyone was surprised, and Mom scolded me for my behavior in public, but it blew over. Neither of them knew how Becky’s tongue swam around my fingers, pulling every bit of her own taste off even as she squinted in disgust at being picked on by her big brother and the nasty crêpe blend. When she playfully bit down on my fingers, forcing me to withdraw them, my fingers were sparkling clean, but still smelling of delicious cake, saliva, and sweet, sweet pussy.



I put my arm back around her and she snuggled back into me, a perfect vision of sibling companionship. Only my hand trailed down my sibling’s thigh to stop at her ass, and I didn’t stop until my fingertips were placed back over her covered pussy.



She left my cock alone from that point, using both her hands to eat the cake, but I still explored with my fingers. After I rubbed her pussy for a few more seconds, I drew my fingers back, shaking, to touch her somewhere else. Her eyes widened at once; I knew right away I had crossed the boundaries. No way would I get away with doing this in open public. But still, I rubbed her cute butthole in little circles under the strap of thong. Her ass froze in place contrary to how she had moved with me when my fingers were in her pussy.



She gazed up into my eyes with those murderous, angelic blue eyes, set off so divinely by her otherwise dark features. She wasn’t daring me to go on, nor to stop cold, nor even threatening my very life for my boldness; she was only questioning me with those eyes, questioning how her own big brother could do something so cheeky.



I shrugged invisibly at her and pushed my finger up her asshole. I felt her grip down on me, resisting me. It only felt better with each passing moment as the blood of my forefinger was drained away, forced out by her tight grip. She didn’t hump back at me, and my finger wasn’t wet enough anymore to get any farther in, so I just held it there, feeling her anal ring with little flexes of my finger while she continued eating the cake that she had ordered special despite not liking it. She didn’t dare cause a fuss, didn’t dare try to stop me. And to think she could have just sat on my hand.



When we got home, we all remained rather cordial for the few seconds of being inside. But I was quick to excuse myself upstairs, and just after shutting my bedroom door behind me I heard Becky’s heeled feet clomping up after me.



My bedroom door flew open without ceremony, and my sister charged up at me and slapped me across the face. Before I could so much as blink, she reached for me, grabbed me by the hair, and pulled me down so she could kiss me hard. Her other hand went straight down my pants go bring my cock back to life, that cock which had been taking a break from being hard all day long. Watching teenage girls graduate is hard work.



Her girlish legs were clinging to mine, free of shoes or socks. One wrapped around my thigh to compliment her hand warming its way down to my rear end, and the other snuck in between my legs, inching closer to my groin. Just as soon as my dick got as hard as could be, she slammed her knee up between my legs, not even letting go of me. As I crumpled to the floor in abject pain, she disappeared off to her own room.



“Huh,” I said to myself in my own head; I was in too much pain to speak out-loud. Suffice to say, Becky was behaving very strangely. I gathered myself up, got undressed, and found something much more suitable in my comfy sweats. So dressed, I went next door and let myself in, just like Becky did.



I was ready to let her have it, being quite put-off for not just tonight, but for the past several months. But instead, my will broke when I saw her curled into a ball on her bed, crying her eyes out. She hadn’t even taken off her shoes.



“Becky? You alright?” I asked rather sweetly despite my recent pain. She didn’t respond, but I sat down on the bed anyway and rested a hand on her shoulder. That lasted for a few minutes. I got over waiting for her, so I turned her to face me. “If I did anything, I honestly didn’t mean to…”



“I hate you!” she said in a surprise turnaround. She began beating her tiny fists against my chest, but I caught them both, as we men do, and I reached for some nearby tissue to wipe the tears out of her face. She resisted, but I was firm. I ended up going through a few tissues since she was rather well-hidden behind some heavy makeup that was turning her face blacker with every stroke of tissue, but a steady supply of tears from her gorgeous eyes allowed me to finish the job.

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