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Chapter 2 – Brianna
I should start by pointing out that I’m not a lesbian, y’know?
That might sound like a weird thing to start with, but it’s important. Me and my sis Bec had been raised to be all “gay yay” and all that and honestly I’ve got no issues with it – until lately I always thought it was a bit gross, but whatever. Do what you gotta do, y’know?
And I mean, you hear that one in ten people are gay or whatever, and you wonder if you’re that one. And I did wonder for a while, but then I’d think about a girl and I’d think about a guy and there was just no competition, y’know? I like guys, and I always have.
But then I heard there’s a thing where you can fall in love with a person and not a gender, I guess…but then I’m not really talking about love, just sex, so…
lol, this isn’t making any sense. I’ll start at the beginning.
My name’s Brianna, but everyone just calls me Bri. I’m 18 and four months, and I have a twin sister (who’s the same age as me, surprise surprise.) We’re not identical twins, but you can tell that we’re sisters. We’ve always been close – not creepy close or anything like that, but we’ve always got along.
About a month or two ago, Bec (that’s my twin) and I went through our own little “sexual revolution”, if that makes sense. We were talking, and we both came up with the same idea at the same time – we realised that we were sick of wearing what society says we have to wear in order to be “good girls”. We’re both sexual women, and we decided that we wanted to start showing it, so we decided to start wearing what we wanted when we wanted, y’know?
I think part of us wanted it to be a big “fuck you” to our parents, too, for telling us what we can and can’t do, but it didn’t really work out like that. For one, our Mum’s pretty cool – recently we’ve realised that she’s the kind of person you can really talk to about anything you like, and Dad’s so harmless that it’s really hard to rebel against him. It’s like trying to rebel against a piece of soggy toast – it’s not really worth it. Dad’s like that.
So me and Bec started wearing our “out” clothes around the house, waiting for Mum or Dad to say something, but neither of them did. Dad didn’t even seem to notice, and Mum…almost admired it? It was weird, I saw her checking out our legs a few times. Maybe she was just remembering the days when she used to look like that. I’ve seen pictures, Mum used to be a bit of a hottie. Even now, she’s kind of sexy, in a “mum” kind of way.
So I was waiting for Mum to start lecturing us, but it never came. Instead, she had this really gross conversation about an old girlfriend she used to have (yeah, I know – ew, right?) and asked the weirdest question that anyone’s ever asked me ever – she asked bursa escort if Bec and I ever “practiced kissing”.
At first, I was grossed out. Then I told Bec, and she started laughing, and then I started laughing, and we couldn’t stop. It was just so weird – Mum telling me about how she used to kiss girls, and then asking if I did…after we finished laughing, there was a weird silence, and we haven’t really spoken about it again. Bec probably didn’t even think about it again after that, and I completely forgot about it…for about a week.
I dunno why, but after a week I started thinking about it again, and the thought just got stuck in my head. Kissing Bec. Kissing my twin. Kissing my twin is hot.
You see why I wanted to make it clear that I wasn’t a lesbian? I mean, I’ve never kissed a guy, but I’ve defs thought about it. A lot. But then the image of kissing a guy sort of got displaced by the idea of kissing Bec, and the thought wouldn’t go away.
What’s worse is that I was starting to notice how good Bec looked in her more slutty clothes (which she was starting to wear, more and more.) It was an unexpected side-effect from our little sex revolution; I’d find myself staring at her cleavage, or checking out her arse as she bent over to pick something up. I even considered going in and watching her shower, pretending that I was just brushing my teeth or something. If she caught me, I could just be like “We’re sisters, it’s cool.”
I had this weird crush on my sister. It should have bothered me more than it did, but…I kind of liked it.
Bec’s always been better with guys than I have. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I think she’s hot and I can definitely see what guys would see in her, but…I’m not exactly Queen Ugly myself. If I had to put it down to one thing, I’d say it’s her boobs. The difference between a B and a C cup, y’know? Guys notice that sort of thing, and when you’re in front of two similar-looking redheads, you’re going to go with the one with the bigger cans.
So I’ve never kissed a guy. I’ve been on a few awkward dates (the worst was the one where my Dad came along. Yeah.) and I’ve had crushes before, but it’s just never happened for me. Bad luck, I guess, or maybe I’m uglier than I think I am. How much would that suck? If I was the one teenager in the world without low self-esteem, and it turned out that I was ugly.
Bec’s had better luck with guys; she had a boyfriend once for two whole months, and she told me that they kissed a bunch of times, and once he even put his hand up her top.
So yeah, if we were going to practice kissing, it would be me asking Bec. Bec’s got the experience, and she’s never been a bitch about it or anything. She always answers questions that I ask her, and one time she even bursa escort bayan showed me what it had felt like when Mark (her ex) had felt her up. Well, she started to, but it was a bit weird so we stopped.
We’d always been open about stuff. She’s a cool little sister. (“little”. Younger by 6 minutes, bigger by one cup-size, lol)
This next bit is weird. Just warning you ahead of time. It shouldn’t have happened the way it did, but it did, and I’m not complaining.
So it was a Sunday night, and Bec and I were sitting on our beds, in our shared room, chatting about what we were going to wear the next day to school (I was pushing for her to mix it up a bit and try one of my miniskirts. She was saying I should go without a bra and see if anyone noticed) and I just…asked. It had been going around my head like a chant for the last few hours, and I guess I just had a moment of weakness and couldn’t resist it any more, y’know?
“Hey Bec,” I said quickly, before I let myself change my own mind, “could you teach me how to kiss?”
It could have gone any way. She could have laughed, she could have been grossed out, she could have…she could have done anything. It’s a weird question, especially from your twin, and especially when we’d laughed so hard at the idea just two weeks ago, y’know?
But she just stared at me, with those dark brown eyes, and nodded.
If I’d been thinking, maybe I would have thought she was kidding, or that she’d misunderstood me. But I’d had the image of kissing Bec, kissing my own twin, running through my head all day (for the last few days, in fact) and so I didn’t question it for a second. I just got up, moved over to her bed, and sat directly in front of her.
We were wearing matching nighties that Mum had bought us a few weeks ago. Pink and frilly; when we’d first opened the box, we’d thought she was trying to dress us up as little girls, as Mums sometimes do. It wasn’t until we’d tried them on that we’d realised how sexy they were – they were so short that if we weren’t wearing panties underneath, bending over would completely expose us, and the neckline was low-cut enough that a boob would occasionally pop out (Bec’s more often than mine.) Mum mustn’t have realised how short they were when she got them.
We both looked h-o-double-t hott wearing them, and they’d quickly become our favourite choice of nightwear.
So we were sitting on Bec’s bed, in our sexy nighties, just staring at each other. We just sat there, saying nothing for a few minutes. My heart was beating so hard I thought Bec must be able to hear it, and I think at this stage we both knew that this wasn’t about “learning how to kiss”.
Maybe I hadn’t been as subtle as I thought, and Bec had picked up on my crush and decided to help escort bursa me get over it, or maybe (impossibly) she’d had the same reaction to my recent style of dress as I’d had to hers. Maybe she had a weird crush on me, just like I had a weird crush on her?
She leaned in, without a word, and pushed her lips against mine. They were soft, slightly moist, and made my mouth feel all tingly. My first kiss. After a few seconds, she pulled back, and looked at me questioningly. I don’t think I reacted, but I must have nodded or something, because she was suddenly kissing me like her life depended on it.
She was kissing me like I was the hottest boy in class, and I was kissing her back just as hard. At some point, my tongue came out (or maybe hers came out first?) and we started using our tongues to play with each other’s tongues, y’know? I don’t know if there’s a word for that, but it felt amazing.
Bec’s smell is one that I’m used to; it’s been there my whole life. Maybe I smell just like her and just can’t smell myself, but at that moment, with my tongue in my twin sister’s mouth, I felt like I was swimming in her smell, or drowning in it. Drowning in a good way though. Like…drowning in sexiness. I’d never been so turned on. I loved it.
The next hour or so was a total haze. I remember kissing her, passionately, at length, and I remember her hands roaming all over my body. I remember feeling, for the first time, exactly what her boobs felt like, what it was like to handle boobs slightly bigger than mine. I remember grasping her arse (it felt so great!) and her grabbing mine. And I remember that my knee was the only part of my body that went near her pussy, but even through her panties and her nightie, even though I was only feeling with my leg, I remember feeling that she was turned on. It turned me on so much, to know that she was as turned on by me as I was by her.
I remember that I didn’t want to stop.
But after what must have been an hour, an hour and a half, we detached, and we just lay back on her bed, panting, covered in sweat. We just lay there for a while, holding hands, before a shyness that I’d never felt with Bec before, the shyness that normally overcomes me when Mr Phillips asks me to answer a question in class, or when I have to talk to my crush. It overcame me and I mumbled “thanks”, leapt over to my bed, and turned the light off.
Bec didn’t say anything, or try to follow. I don’t know if I hurt her feelings, or if she was feeling just as shy, but I’m glad she didn’t say anything, ‘cos if it had been bad I would have died of embarrassment, and if it had been anything else, I would have jumped straight back into her bed and neither of us would have slept that night.
Ever since we started sharing a room, we’ve unspoken rule about masturbating: If the other person can hear you, you’re doing it wrong. It’s a manners thing more than anything. It just prevents embarrassment, or any weirdness…
That night, we both broke that rule.
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