The Twins Ch.01 - The Beginning

I'm Jana, maybe I am not, I was Jean, once but not anymore, my thoughts battle, ot just maybe, I don't know who am I anymore, I've been dwelling on these questions recently, but I'll tell you my story.

For as long as I can remember, my twin Jane and I have been so close, we were never the average twins, we were mirrors of each other, or maybe I was a mirror of her, a full reflection of her heart and soul, living in a world that couldn't pin us down.

Our faces were almost identical, heart-shaped, with high cheekbones and wide, ocean-blue eyes that seem to hold secrets we haven't told anyone other than each other.

Our lips, plump and pink, unapologetically kissable, curl into the same shy smile, and our long blond hair, always swept into messy buns, shimmering like spun gold under the North Dakota sun.

We're androgynous, our bodies lean and smooth, hairless as if we were sculpted from the same ivory clay, Jane's small A-cup breasts barely distinguished her from me.

When we're side by side even if we stood naked, no one could tell us apart, and if it weren't for my boyish clothes, these old faded jeans, t-shirts, and scuffed sneakers, people would think I'm Jane's identical twin, We've always used that power on everyone.

Growing up in our sprawling estate on the outskirts of Bismarck, Jane and I were inseparable, two peas in a pod, as Maman used to say.

Maman--Maryan--is a vision of French elegance, her accent soft as silk, her dark hair always pinned up as she chisels away at marble in her sunlit studio. She's an artist, a sculptress who sees beauty in raw stone and in us, her wild twins.

She was barely nineteen when she married my Dad, Travis, back then he was a mere junior liaison at the American embassy in Paris, getting to know the locals, making friends with prominent French families.

Mom and dad's love was a wildfire, passionate, consuming. I've overheard Maman whisper to to my dad about their nights in Paris, tangled in silk sheets, his hands tracing her curves as candlelight flickered across their skin, "you were irresistible," she say, her voice thick with memory, "and I was your sinful muse."

"I unzipped you, freeing your thick cock pulsing for me," she said. "I kissed the tip, tasting your American salt, then took you deep" she said remembering her lips stretching.

"I groaned, my hands in your silky hair, guiding gently while you licked my cock and groaned like a bear." my father said. Maman replied with a sultry voice "My panties slid off, my pussy was flooding with lust, your balls were heavy and your dick was throbbing ready, my entrance was melting by your fingers probing, stretching. "Ready?" you asked."

Father echoed " your eyes were loving, hungery, you clearly needed a good fuck, your legs spread like a seasoned whore, my heart was racing. I entered you, slow, filling Your virgin passage."

Maman said "I gasped, the stretch intense yet perfect, months of waiting and desiring had prepared me, your thrusts, sure and steady, hitting deep, sparking my virgin orgasms"

Father moved closer the bed creaking under him whispering " you cried out, your body was shaking violently, your wetness smelled of lust it flowed down on my cock lubing it, being sucked inside your eager pussy."

Mother whispered ""More" I said, I begged. My nails digging into your back my love. Your pace quickened, our moans blending, the bed was shaking."

I imagined dad's hands searching Maman's body as i continued eavesdropping. Father whispered "you orgasmed again like a bitch in heat, a shuddering climax, your pussy twitched, my balls pulsing. I followed, groaning, filling You with hot cum,"

She replied with lustfull voice" your warmth was flooding deep. I orgasmed a third time and then a forth time waves crashing my body, your cock was forging my pussy, our lust mixing and hearts were melting."

I was always fascinated by the sexual depravity my parents shared when they were alone together, mistakingly thinking no one was listening.

My Dad now is a senior diplomat and business man, over the years he has become wealthy beyond measure, he leveraged his diplomatic job in every seemingly legal way, our family's fortune rooted in the middle eastern oil and US farm land, his companies do all sorts of business, here and abroad.

He had been always traveling, his presence in our lives was as fleeting as a summer storm, a Freedom he enjoyed, a freedom I had to pay for with my fractured musculinty and self esteem.

When he came home from a long trip, he took me camping or hunting in the nearby woods, a hopeless son salvage attempt, teaching me to track deer through the pines or start a fire with nothing but flint and steel. Those trips just made me fearless and wild, but failed to ground my musculinty as he wished they would.

The feminine pull has always been stronger, for most of my life was spent with Maman, Jane, and Lily, surrounded by women who unwittingly have shaped me into a soft, delicate, feminine rose. I sat with my knees together, walked like a cat with a sway, and spoke with a lilt that could pass for Jane's.

My voice is Identical to Jane's, just a shade deeper, it fooled everyone, classmates, teachers, even Jane's boyfriends.

I've spent hours on the phone, flirting pretending to be her, my heart racing as I mimiced her giggles, and listen to her boyfriends' lustful praises and promises, Jane doubled over with laughter beside me. It's our secret, one of many.

Our estate was a world unto itself, a labyrinth of oak-paneled halls, stained-glass windows, and gardens bursting with roses jasmine and lavender. Maman's studio smells of stone dust and turpentine, her sculptures were always nude with flowing perverse lines, standing like silent sentinels.

The twins' wing, where Jane and I have our rooms, is a haven of plush rugs, velvet curtains, and bookshelves stuffed with poetry and novels. Jane's room is all lace and pastels, her wardrobe a mix of sundresses and blouses with lacy lingerie that hugged her slight frame.

Mine was earthier, denim pants, leather jackets, and t-shirts, but I've slipped into her clothes more times than I can count. We've been cross-dressing since we were kids, swapping identities like it's a game.

I've taken her midterms at her all-girls' school while she shopped with Maman in Paris, my hair gathered in loose bun, her skirt swishing against my thighs, the exam secured an A+. She once aced my finals at my all-boys' academy, my tie knotted loosely around her neck. No one ever suspected. We're too perfect, too identical.

Lily was the closest thing I ever had to a girlfriend, despite being Maman's younger orphaned cousin.

She has been with us since Maman and Dad brought her from France. She was fourteen years younger than Maman when we were born, she was an orphaned cousin with no one else except for Maman and Travis.

Now in her mid twenties, she's a playful fixture in our lives, she has been our youngest nanny, my private confidante, keeper of our secrets. Her bronze hair falls in waves, and her green eyes sparkle with love and mischief.

She's soft-spoken but fierce in action, always watching over us. As kids, she'd braided our hair, told us stories of Paris, and laugh when we swapped clothes to trick her. "You two are trouble," she'd say, ruffling my hair.

But as I grew older and finished high school, her gaze lingered on me, her loving touches, brushing my arm, adjusting my collar, lingering too much, "you're a stud now" she would say, she was invested in me, in a way that surpassed family love.

My relationship with lily grew steadily but something deeply shifted on my sister's and my nineteenth birthday, a night that changed everything forever between me and lily.

The party was a spectacle, the estate aglow with fairy lights strung across the gardens. Our classmates, family friends, and teachers mingled under a velvet sky, the air thick with the scent of jasmine and lavender.

Jane wore a white sundress, its hem fluttering above her knees, her lips glossed pink. I wore a navy blazer, white shirt, and tailored pants, my hair loose for once, grazing my shoulders.

We danced together, spinning to the music, our laughter blending into one.

Lily was there, radiant in a emerald-green dress that clung to her curves, her eyes never straying far from me, she was making sure that no other girl had any chance.

When Jane's classmate, Emily, tried to flirt with me, her hand brushing my arm, Lily was at my side in an instant, offering me a drink with a smile that said "he's mine."

After the guests left, the estate was again quiet, the only sound was the chirping of crickets beyond the windows. I was in my room, sprawled on my bed, the moonlight spilling across the hardwood floor.

My blazer hung over a chair, my shirt unbuttoned to reveal the smooth hairless plane of my chest. There was a soft knock, and a mischievously sexy Lily slipped inside, closing the door behind her. She wore a silk and lace robe, its hem brushing her thighs, her hair loose and tumbling over her shoulders.

The air felt tense and charged, heavy with unspoken lust. "Jean," she said, her voice low, "did you have fun tonight?" I nodded, my throat tight. She sat beside me, her thigh brushing mine, the silk of her robe cool against my skin.

Her fingers circling my soft belly as we talked, about the party, about my soon college admission, about my love for architecture, but her eyes held mine, dark and searching.

Then, slowly, she leaned in, her breath warm against my lips. "You're not a little boy anymore, tonight my pussy will be your birthday present," she whispered, "You're a man, my Jean, your body's mine tonight, your cock will be put in good use and your big man cum will paint my pussy white."

Her fingers teased my cock, her breath lava hot on my neck, my heart was pounding, she was acting like a slut, inviting me to fuck her.

I couldn't hold back, cousin or not, she's a cock hungry bitch and she's in heat asking for cum, I rolled over, revealing my rock-hard cock.

She froze her sluty eyes flashing hunger and lust, then she leaned in, her lips brushing my cock, soft kisses turning to deep hungry sucks, spitting on it, her hands jerking it furiously, my cock was definitely not her first.

Her depraved tongue was pouring depraved requests as she sucked, her voice trembling with raw love: "Give it to me, you horny stud, Fuck me, with your meaty cock," she hissed "Take my hungry pussy, let me ride your cock, Make me your cock's slave bitch," Her words full of sexual depravity mixed with wild desire it was driving me insane.

I was fearless, mimicking my dad's story of first fucking of Mamon, their whispers were vivid in my mind, but my manner was still soft, molded by females that raised me Maman, lily and Jane.

I flipped her onto her back, her body was a masterpiece a land waiting to be ploughed, her breasts were swinging. I kissed her deeply, our tongues dancing, my left hand fingering her soaked pussy, my right hand pinching her nipples, then teasing her ass hole in circles.

She writhed, moaning, "Jean, you're a natural, don't stop, my love," I whispered, "Ready for something big," She screamed, "Yes, yes, give me your cock, I can't wait anymore," our bodies closely pressed together, our skin burning.

I lifted her legs over my shoulders, her breaths racing, and I eased the tip of my cock into her pussy, my thrusts were slow but sure then they became swift and hard. The felling in cock tip was electric, our pure family love was being fused with pure depraved lust.

I fucked her senseless, time dragged, our sweat was drenching us and the bed, her screams filling the room: "Deeper, my Jean, rip your woman apart," Her legs locked me in, her nails clawing my back, leaving red streaks, her voice begging "Cum in me, take hold of me womb, bind us forever your cum!"

Her juices soaked the bed, her orgasms hitting her like tidal waves her screams undeniable. A Lightning shot traveled down my spine as I came, my hot semen flooding her, seeds claiming her body as mine, marking her with my scent.

Her screams peaking "More you stud, don't stop" I kept going, switching positions hungrily, she straddled me in cowgirl position, her breasts bouncing as she rode me, my cock tip kissing he womb as she dipped, we switched to spooning, my hand on her clit, fingers soaked by her squirts.

Finally, I pulled her into all fours in front of my room full body mirror, doggy style, I wanted ger to see her own face as I claimed her completely. her ass was up her head pressed into the mattress, her pussy was begging.

I slammed in, my heavy balls slapping her thighs, the clapping sound was hypnotic, her eyes were rolling back, pain and pleasure blurring her mind. She screamed, "Cum again stud, my Jean, make me yours!" Her tight pussy pulled me into orgasm.

I came again, another shuddering climax, my cum flood filling her womb. Lily hit an orgasm like never before, her body was convulsing, her screams fading to whimpers.

We collapsed, sweat-soaked, tangled, breathless. She whispered, "My love, you've redefined our love, now I can't live without your cock." I kissed her deeply my heart bursting with wild love and bliss.

Days went by like usual, preparing for college admission, missing around with Jane and her boyfriends, but in the nights were fire, Lily wanted to explore more, fueled by her depravity and hunger for my cock.

Another fateful night in my room, I wore a purple silk pajama, identical to Jane's, Lily slipped into a green satin bra and thong, her curves irresistible. "Jean, I want your cock in my ass tonight," she purred.

"are you sure," I said as I lubed up my 8 inches rock-hard cock, "more than anything," she purred, I teased her hole, circling with my tongue first, making her moan, "Oh, my love, eat me," I filled her ass with lube and I slid in slowly, her ass was tight, but my cock wasn't giving up, slowly I went in, inch after inch, my balls were clapping against her hole.

Her moans pushed me into an overdrive as I fucked her deep, her depraved screams echoing "Harder, rip my ass."

I fingered her pussy, doubling her pleasure, and she came, squirting on my hand, as I filled her ass with hot cum, both of us shaking, my feet digging into the fluffy carpet.

"This is our secret," she said, her fingers tracing circles on my skin. I nodded, my heart pounding. Jane and I had always shared everything, but this depravity--this forbidden lust was mine alone.

College admission went well, it brought Jane and me closer to home. We both enrolled at Bismarck State, living in the estate rather than dorms. At twenty, we're still mirrors, still playing our tricks and games.

Jane chose anthropology, social studies and languages, I opted for architecture, my love for grand designs have started to shaped my desires and my future.