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En-Twinned

Clara and Tara.  They had always been Clara and Tara, twins extraordinaire, inseparable from the day they were born.  Their mother proudly hung a photograph of the two girls, tiny and newborn, their eyes tightly shut and their tiny hands intertwined.

Clara yawned and sat up, her perky breasts swaying on her chest as she leaned over the lump beside her.  "Morning, Tara.“

Tara’s green eyes fluttered open.  "Morning, Clara.”

Clara leaned down and nibbled her sister’s ear.  "Are you ready to get up yet?  Cause it’s Saturday and I’m not.“

"Awww.”  Tara rolled over, pushing herself up on one elbow to smile coyly at her sibling.  "Are you a horny girl?“

"Maaaybe.”  Clara tried to arrange her features demurely, but Tara was laughing.

“Darling.  Don’t.  Just be yourself.  That’s what I love about you.”  She cupped her twin’s chin in her hand and tilted her face so their eyes met.  "Really.  You.“

Clara moved so their lips brushed, barely at first, then with more ferocity.  Tara’s hand slid up Clara’s bare leg, stopping when it encountered the insignificant barrier of Clara’s pink thong.  Nibbling Clara’s lip, Tara maneuvered her fingers to remove the thong in one swift tug.

"Mmm, you’re brilliant,” Clara murmured, her lip caught between Tara’s teeth.  "You’re going to make some little boy a very happy man.“

"Maybe,” Tara said, rolling onto her stomach and tugging back the covers so her sister’s bright, short-cropped hairs were visible.  Lazily tracing the outline of Clara’s mound with a red-tipped nail, she added, “Or maybe I’ll just stick with the one who makes me happy.”

“Sissy.”  Clara planted a kiss on the top of Tara’s bright blue hair.  "No promises you can’t keep if you’ve got the butterflies.“

"Until then,” Tara said, and buried her face in Clara’s lap.  She sought out the familiar, sweet, sensitive areas with her tongue, stroking them with all the love she could muster.  Clara tossed her head back, leaning against the headboard, and sighed.

“I would miss – ahhhhh! – waking up like this.  No man is as talented – ooohhhhhh – as you.”

Tara’s tongue darted in and out of Clara’s pussy at an impossible speed.  She lifted her head, her chin shining with Clara’s moistness, and grinned almost evilly.  "Nope.  And that’s the secret.  I can be into girls as long as I want and I’ll never be lonely.“

"I will never turn you down,” Clara said with a light laugh.  She pushed her sister so Tara sprawled, hair like a sea-colored halo about her head, her dusky skin contrasting the old quilt they had always shared.  Clara parted Tara’s lower lips with her hand and gazed admiringly for a moment.  "And I’ll always return the favor.“

She swiped her tongue across the length of Tara’s pussy, eliciting a shiver and whimper, and ducked to her work.

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We would lie in those afternoon beds, afterwards, hands on each other, talking it over. Possible, impossible. What could be done? We thought we had such problems. How were we to know we were happy?

The Handmaid’s Tale, Margaret Atwood
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The Vending Machine

There is already someone bent over the open vending machine when I creep down the empty hall with my quarters.  Cursing my bad luck, I stand a few yards away, weighing my options: I can wait until I get home, another five hours and a midnight away, or I can wait until the vending machine attendant is finished and get my goddamn peanut M&Ms.

I watch for another moment.  The man is black, clean-shaven, and appears to be well-built, even squatting down junk food scattered around him.  I’ve seen him before—he’s our regular stocking guy.  Perhaps, I think, palming my quarters, he’ll trade me something for an extra fifty cents.

The coins jangle and the man perks up.  I grumble, but it’s too late.  “Hi,” I say.

He sizes me up, getting in an extra long, lazy look.  The back of my neck warms.  “Well hello there,” he says, grinning to show very white, very straight teeth.  “I didn’t think anyone was workin’ this late.”

“Just me,” I say with a dramatic sigh.  I chuckle.  “Normally even I don’t indulge in night-owl shifts, but this project has to get done.”

“Ahhh.”  He straightens up, and I realize he is much taller than I am, and that his hands are rough but the calluses are worn down.  “Need some relief?”

“What?”  I almost don’t comprehend what he’s saying, but then I do, and the absence of my jacket is suddenly obvious.  “Oh.  Heh.”  A nervous laugh.  “I mean, I’m at work.  You don’t think—I mean, I guess no one’s—yeah.  Yeah.”   My hands go to my button-down shirt and flick open the top three.  “Take me against the vending machine.”  I kick my flip-flops against the wall.

His whole face beams.  “Yes ma’am.”  He undoes his pants, drops them down to his feet, extends his hand.  “I’m Trevor.”

“Michi,” I say.

He tries out my name and it sounds good coming out in his honey voice.  “Michi.  Pretty name, pretty lady.”

I’m down to a cami and skirt.  The latter I hoist above my waist, revealing the pussy I remembered to shave this morning.  Trevor gazes at it, gives an admiring nod, and then squats down just like he was when I first saw him.  Only this time his mouth is level with my clit, and he takes advantage of this fact.  In seconds I have one hand in his short hair and the other against the wall, and I’m moaning as he swirls my whole lower business with his tongue.

He strokes to both sides of my labia; he pinches my clit between his thick lips and makes me squeal.  Finally, panting, I tap the side of his face gently.  “My turn.”

He obliges, draping his massive, cut cock over the top of his boxers.  I gaze at it for a moment, imagining taking its bulk in my tiny Asian cunt.  “Mmm.  I’ll manage.”  I tilt my eyes upwards and give him a conspiratorial look before taking as much in my mouth as I can.  I gag and he sighs, hands to my hair.  He rocks that way for a while and I experiment with my teeth, my tongue, my palate.

Trevor is grunting with every movement now and he knows he’s close.  He pushes me away and then grabs my wrists, pulling me up and turning me around so my back is to the vending machine in the same movement.  One hand toys with my breasts and the other brings his cock to the right level and he hovers there.

“Ready?” he asks, and I nod.  He pushes in.  He fills me completely; I can feel him pushing into the back of me.  I feel gloriously helpless, pinned against the warm glass of the vending machine.  Trevor flicks wildly at my nipples, his other hand massaging my mound, and then he comes, leaning into me.  I lean back and we feel like one creature, shaking together.

After a second, Trevor plants a kiss on the top of my head.  “Best day at work ever.”

“Agreed.”  I squeeze his elbow and, when he lets me go, start to collect my clothes.  “Hey, maybe I’ll start working later more often.”

“I’d like that,” he says, grinning, and rips the tape off a box of peanut M&Ms.

I laugh and hand him five quarters.  He hands me back a packet and tips an invisible cap.  I head back to my desk with new energy.