tagIncest/TabooRedheaded Vixens Ch. 01

Redheaded Vixens Ch. 01

byGingerM©

Chapter 1

My sister Irene and I are twins, although you wouldn't think it to look at us. We're fraternal twins, not identical, though we are similar in our facial features and in that we both have leaf-green eyes. Where we're different -- other than her being female and me not -- is that she's a redhead whereas I'm blond. Yeah, I used to get all the blond jokes in school. Of the two of us, my sister definitely looks better than I do. That's not to say I have a poor self-image or think I'm as ugly as sin -- I'm not bad looking, I think, and in school girls didn't exactly shudder or turn away in disgust. Irene, though, has had hordes of guys following her around, and her cascading mane of red-gold hair, like living flame, which falls to the small of her back is only part of the reason. The main reason was and is her stunning figure, and the hypnotizing sway of her hips when she walked by. Neither of us is or was a physical fitness nut, but we've kept in shape, and at 38, we both look like we're in our early twenties.

So where should I begin? At the beginning, but that's kind of hard to pin down. I know most boys go through a stage where it's "Ewww! Girls are icky! Girl cooties!", followed by the discovery that girls are, in fact, the Reason To Live. If the girl in question is the boy's sister, the "Eewww! Cooties!" phase can last well into the teens. I never went through that phase, myself -- I always thought my sister was neat, and as we both entered puberty, I regularly fantasized about her.

I guess the best place to start would in high school. You see, a partial side effect of my fantasies about my sister -- or perhaps the fantasies were a symptom; anyway, I was quite shy around other girls in school. Instead I hung around with my sister, sort of -- walking her to and from school, sitting with her a bit at lunch -- but not too much, as some of her girlfriends were extremely pretty and I was nervous around them as well.

So I spent a fair amount of time in evenings and on weekends, when I was in my room to study or read, on Internet chat sites. It was exhilarating in some ways; the anonymity protected me, and I could let myself go, as could the other participants. I was just past my seventeenth birthday (yes, my sister's, too -- and let me just say that being one of a pair of twins is not always unalloyed joy on birthdays; you never have a day that is just yours), and I met a girl on a chat site by the handle of firefae. As I remember, I was initially intrigued by her chat nick; my own was fairly unimaginative, being just my initials -- coe (oh all right -- Christian Oscar Eddington; are you happy? I usually just go by 'Chris').

Anyway, we followed the usual pattern, initially talking about commonplace stuff like weather, school, stuff that annoyed us, stuff in the news, et cetera. In the course of this, we found out we both lived in Marysville, and she was a senior in the same high school as me, which made it more interesting; I was trying to figure out who she was, once I knew that. A couple of times I suggested we should each wear a penguin pin or something so we could identify each other, but she said she liked the mystery and wanted to keep it strictly on-line for now. That was okay by me; I have to admit I was finding the mystery intriguing as well.

As we got to know each other and started sharing more of our dreams and desires, we started behaving more intimately online:

firefae: sometimes I like to think you ' re sitting here next to me

coe: if we were sitting together, I'd hold your hand, or put my arm around your shoulders

firefae: mmm ... I could snuggle up to you...

coe: that's nice... I'd stroke your hair and cuddle you...

firefae: *purrs and snuggles*

Needless to say, being teenagers, we moved pretty quickly to sex chat:

coe: what are you wearing?

firefae: a thin cotton shirt and lace panties. You?

coe: jeans. No shirt.

firefae: mmm ... my bare-chested man. *licks lips*

coe: let's snuggle and see where it goes

firefae: okay. I ' ll snuggle up in your arms. *climbs on your lap*

coe: *wraps arms around you*

coe: I'm holding your breasts, feeling your nipples through the cotton of your shirt, rubbing them gently

firefae: ohhh ... that feels so good ... you ' re making me tingle all over, and I can ' t sit still. I ' m squirming and my butt is pressed up against you.

coe: oh yeah... my jeans are starting to feel awfully tight. I keep on rubbing your nips... little squeeze, too. Do you like that?

firefae: Mmm, yeah, yeah ... I can feel my nips getting harder. Play with them some more. I can tell you ' re getting hard, too -- I feel your cock pressing against my ass.

coe: sliding one hand inside your shirt now, stroking your tummy... your skin is so smooth, so soft...

firefae: oh yes, that feels so good. Feel my panties, too, stroke me down there. Slide your hand inside my panties.

coe: okay, babe... keeping one hand on your boobs and the other's in your panties, cupping your pussy. I'm resting one finger on your lips, just gently stroking you there.

This went on for quite a while, and lots of times our chat sessions were slowed at each end by the necessity of typing one-handed. I went through a fair amount of Kleenex during these sessions, too. We didn't always have on-line sex, but it pretty quickly became a regular part of our relationship, and she taught me quite a few things about what women like and don't like -- or at least one woman, anyway.

About three months before my eighteenth birthday which fell on the same day as the high school grad prom, firefae brought up the topic of us meeting in real life. She pointed out that shortly we would be graduating and then who knew where our lives would head? She wanted to meet but to preserve our mutual anonymity, we would meet masked. Intrigued, I asked her how we would know each other? She suggested that we should meet on the night of the prom, after the dance. As the prom was going to be a dinner and ball at a local five-star hotel, she suggested that I book a room and we would meet there. If I informed her of the room number, she and I could both get room keys independently, then meet in the room at our chosen time. I liked this idea and made the booking, and when we met on-line again, I told her the room number. She replied that she and I should check in at different times, but that we should meet in the room at midnight. We would both be masked, and she would be wearing a shirt and panties, and I should wear just a pair of jeans.

So I agreed to that, and then the problem was who to take to the prom? Obviously, taking firefae was out of the question, since I'd have to know who she really was. However, I didn't really feel comfortable with the other girls in my year -- except firefae, only I didn't know who she was. I also started having some doubts about this whole thing -- on-line chat was one thing, but this was something else entirely, and I realized I could be getting myself set up for something. But then I would think back to all our talks about our likes and dislikes, hopes and fears, desires and dreams, and it all felt right.

The problem solved itself about a month later at school. The captain of the football team, Todd Brothers, informed my sister he was taking her to the prom. Didn't ask her, you understand, he informed her. Her wishes in the matter were apparently immaterial. This happened in the cafeteria, and Irene started to cloud up. I should mention that Todd more or less considered Irene his property, and was forever bugging her and trying to hit on her. He didn't like me much, but he couldn't realistically object to or prevent me from walking my sister home. I moved over to her table, and Irene flashed me a quick look, then told Todd, "My brother will be taking me to the prom."

"Your brother?h he responded, looking rather like a fish out of water.

"Yes, my brother, Chris," she nodded at me. "Somehow, I don't think you need to worry about him trying to cut you out," she went on.

Todd fumed for a few moments, then replied, "You could be going with me, but you're going to go with your brother..." he shook his head. "You're never gonna meet guys if you do that, 'Rene, and that's a fact." He moved off, tossing "Your loss, babe," over his shoulders as he swaggered over to Tricia Mulligan's table.

Irene's shoulders sagged a bit as she let her breath out. "Thanks, bro'," she said, looking gratefully at me. "I'm sorry to put you on the spot like that, but he is such a creep. I'm pretty sure he'd be pawing me all evening."

"No problem, sis,h I replied, jubilant in having secured a date for the prom. gActually, youfre doing me a big favour, too; I was trying to work up the nerve to ask a girl to go with me, but I start getting all tongue-tied and nervous whenever I try. Ifm sorry I didnft think of asking you sooner.h

She smiled at me, then said, gWell, Ifm pretty sure Ifll have one of the handsomest dates at the prom.

Needing to conceal my plans for meeting firefae, I told Irene that I wanted to do this properly and take her to the prom in a limousine. As I could book one through the hotel where I was meeting my on-line lover later that night, it gave me the perfect excuse to leave the house early with my backpack, stuffed with a mask, boots, jeans and t-shirt, pack of condoms, toothbrush, et cetera. I checked into the room first, as I had arranged with firefae, then changed quickly into my tuxedo and went down to the front desk to pick up the limo.

It felt very odd to arrive back at my house in a limousine, but somehow very right. I had stopped on the way back at a florist's to pick up a corsage -- red chrysanthemums, fading to orange-y yellow at the tips of the petals, which should match Irenefs fiery red mane. I decided to do it just like in the movies -- went up to the door, rang the doorbell, and Mum answered the door.

"Um, good evening, Mrs. Eddington," I said, trying hard not to laugh at myself. "I'm here to take Irene to the prom?"

God bless Mum; she played along with the gag, and replied with a straight face, "Why, hello, Chris! My, how very nice you look tonight! Do come in; Irene's just upstairs and will be down in a moment."

So I sat in the front hall of my own home, waiting for my sister to come downstairs. About ten minutes later she did -- and the game was worth it. She was an absolute vision, a dream in cream. Her dress was a typical princess-type -- lots of lace, a body-hugging bodice with a V-split between her breasts, and a full, floor-length skirt. Her hair was up for the first time that I'd ever seen, and her makeup was so restrained you could hardly tell it was there, except that her eyes were enormous and glowed. She was carrying one of those ridiculously tiny formal purses that you couldn't stuff a used Kleenex in, and was wearing opera gloves -- I think those are what they're called? The ones that go all the way up to the elbow? Anyway, the whole outfit together was stunning, and she was positively radiant. She paused at the turn of the stairs and exclaimed, "Oh my! Chris, you are so sharp!"

I wasn't above a bit of preening myself. I knew a lot of the guys were going to rent the standard tuxedo & shirt combo, so I had done a bit of looking around and found a place that rented the older-style jackets with the claw-hammer tail. I had also put a lot of time in on my shoes, blessing the time I had spent in cadets where I had learned the useful art of boot (or shoe) polishing.

I stepped forward and pinned her corsage to her dress, then she kissed me on the cheek, just like in all the cheesiest date movies. "I'll have her back before midnight, Mrs. Eddington," I said, my dialogue again being straight out of the movies.

"Donft worry about that, dear,h Mum replied. gYou kids have a wonderful time tonight, and Ifll see you tomorrow.h Not quite according to the script, but then she was improvising, as Irene and I hadnft filled her in on the routine for the evening.

The chauffeur handed Irene in, then me, then went around and climbed in the driverfs side. gThe Arms, sir?h he asked, just as if he worked for me. Well, for this evening, he did, I suppose.

"Yes please," I replied, and the car moved off as Irene and I started guffawing with laughter in the back seat.

Finally able to talk after a fashion, she gasped, "Oh God, Chris, did you see Mum's face?" That set us both off again, and we gave up trying to talk until we got to The Arms hotel.

I'm not going to say much about the prom itself; though the food was excellent and the surroundings extremely posh -- as they should be, given what the school was charging each student to attend -- it was unremarkable in pretty much every way. I led Irene out on the floor for the first dance, then she danced with a few other guys and I danced with two other girls in between talking with some of my friends. Mainly I was realizing that I hadn't figured out exactly how I was going to excuse myself to Irene in order to make my midnight rendezvous. Around quarter of eleven, though, Irene came up to me and said she wasn't feeling well. "I think I'm going to call a cab and go home now, Chris," she told me. Sure enough, she was looking a little peaked.

I was pretty sure Todd had insisted on a dance with her; her corsage had a somewhat worse-for-wear look, and the bodice of her dress wasn't quite so crisp and fresh-looking. "S'okay," I replied, "I'll see you home."

"No, Ifll be okay. I donft want to spoil the evening for you,h she insisted. gIfll call Mum before I leave, so she knows Ifm on the way home.h

"Well, if you're sure. I'd be happy to see you home," I said. If I had to, I would IM firefae tomorrow and explain what had happened. I could only hope she would understand.

Irene, however, was sure she would be fine. gThis is the nineties, you nincompoop,h she said affectionately. gI know how to take care of myself, and itfs not as if I donft know how to order a cab, or pay for it.h She poked me in the shoulder. gYou stay and have a good time.h

I gave her a quick kiss, then she took herself off, and I looked around. The prom was still going strong, but there was a bit less dancing and more couples wandering in and out of the ballroom to the gardens. I felt certain there were couples canoodling in the gardens, and quite probably more adventurous liaisons as well.

I spent the next hour and a bit wandering round some more, talking with friends, danced another dance with Cherie from my geography class, and with Laura, from algebra, then realized it was getting on for midnight. I excused myself from my friends, bidding them good-night, then wandered out to the lobby and the front doors, making sure several of my classmates and teachers saw me leaving. Once outside, I ducked around quickly to the parking entrance and went to my car, to get my backpack.

It didnft take long to shuck out of the tuxedo and into the jeans and t-shirt, then I grabbed the backpack, quickly checking to ensure the mask and pack of condoms was still there, and punched the elevator call button.

My heart was hammering in my chest as I rode the elevator up. What would firefae be like? Would she be attractive? Would she be a she? Doubts re-surfaced as all the possible scenarios raced through my mind, and I reflected again that this could all be a set-up. It was entirely possible that firefae was a fake, made up by a bunch of my classmates, and when I got to the room, there would be a bunch of them there to laugh at me.

The bell pinged as the doors opened on the fifteenth floor, and I looked down the hall. No-one around, which was good. Room 1507 was four doors down on the right. Feeling more and more like an idiot, and hoping that hotel security wasnft watching on a camera, or about to come off the other elevator, I kicked off my boots, stripped off my t-shirt, then donned the mask.

The mask was a proper masquerade mask a la the Phantom of the Opera, except that it covered all my face, leaving only my mouth free. Even the eyeholes were covered with smoke-coloured lenses, so I could see but my eyes couldnft be seen by others. My backpack clutched in my increasingly sweaty fist, I walked quickly down the hall to room 1507. I fumbled for the keycard, having a brief moment of terror that I had left it in my car. There was a muted click as the lock released, and I grasped the door handle and opened it.

Inside, the room was dark. There was a muted glow of city light from the windows -- just enough that as my eyes adjusted, I could make out dim, shadowy silhouettes of furniture. I cleared my throat and essayed a tentative gHello?h

A voice -- female, and tantalizingly familiar -- replied, gHello, Coe. Ifm Firefae.h

The shadows before me resolved, shifted, and a figure stood. My increasingly dark-adapted eyes make out a curvaceous feminine form, clad in some shimmering material that caught the dim glow from the windows. The shimmer seemed to end mid-thigh -- extremely shapely thighs, I noticed -- and I remembered that Firefae would be wearing a thin cotton shirt and panties, and nothing else. Her hair was drawn back in a long, single-plaited braid, and it was nearly impossible to make out what colour it was. She, as I, was masked, and all I could make out of her was her silhouette.

I dropped the backpack, kicking it into the bathroom, and walked forward to meet Firefae. Her shadowed form did likewise, and I was entranced by the seductive sway of her hips and breasts, outlined by a nimbus of light around her body. We met at the foot of the king-sized bed, and she slid her arms around me.

Oh God, what a sensation! I felt the softness of the shirt, her breasts pressed against me, as she moulded herself to me. I took her face between my hands, and turned her toward mine, the blankness of her mask matching my own, and then her lips were pressed against mine, our mouths opening to each other as we kissed frantically, and she wrapped one leg around me while we stood there clutching each other.

After I donft know how long, she pulled back minutely and cocked her head toward the bed. I turned and let myself fall back onto it, pulling her down with me as I did so. We resumed kissing, our tongues meeting as we opened to each other, and my hands roamed over her back and butt, squeezing the firm flesh, feeling the material of her panties under my hands. She responded to my touch, squirming atop me, and grinding her hips into my groin.

She broke the kiss, taking my face between her hands and raising her head to look me in the eyes -- or the eyeholes, at least. gNow, Coe.h

I gently pushed her up so she was sitting astride my hips, then ran my hands up her sides to her shoulders, and slid the shirt off. It fell to the bed in a whisper of material, and she arched her back, lacing her hands behind her head. Her breasts jutted out proudly, luminous in the night-lit glow of the city, her nipples catching the light enticingly. I ran my hands down her sides again, lightly, coming to rest on the smooth swell of her hips as she ground slowly atop me, then slid them back up to gently cup the soft, silken skin and the hard pebbles of her nipples.

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