Zinnia Blossoms Ch. 02

"Well," she whispered in my ear, archly. "Aren't you ripe for the plucking?"

"Shut the fuck up and get your fingers in me," I growled back, and she laughed the most husky laugh I'd ever heard. Her fingers slipped up and down, teasing me relentlessly, and then -

And then Sandy got back.

"Really, guys? Here?" she muttered, sliding in next to Linda and hip-bumping her to get her to stop.

What the fuck, Sandra, seriously...

"No, you're right," Linda agreed, pulling her hand free and licking her fingers before picking up her drink. "We must be rational about this."

I side-eyed Sandy with the meanest glare I could muster. She smiled her sweetest smile back, her 'fuck you' smile.

"I suppose we'd better get things clear," Linda said airily. I could feel her straighten her skirt and she laughed when I sighed louder than I thought I had. "Like I said I'm not going to tell you if your Mum and I are fucking because, you know. That's our business, not yours. But would you be okay with it IF we are? Or if we're not but were to start in the future?"

I shrugged. I didn't mind as long as we knew who it was. I know, that's unfair. It's her business, not ours and our mother has a right to her privacy, yeah? Yeah. Fuck that, I want to know if someone's doing a bit of genital spelunking on my mother because if they don't deserve her I'll give 'em hell. No, it's not fair. Watch the tears of guilt I'm not shedding.

Sandy, of course, was more direct. "Do you care?"

"What?" Linda, caught aback, leaned away from Sandy very slightly. Sandy being direct can unnerve people. As she did so, though, I felt her hand rest on my thigh again - but my inner thigh this time - and I shivered.

"Do you care what we think?" Sandy asked, frowning deep and dark. "I mean, let's face it, you're a bit shameless. Nonono, don't look at me like that," she hurried on, "you fuck who you want. More power to you, I say. But if you've been fucking Mum and we've only just found out do you really give a shit whether we're okay with it or not?"

Linda was very quiet for a few moments. Sandy had insulted her - or almost insulted her - pretty bad. I knew the look on her face. It was the recalculation look, the look that someone has when they suddenly realise that this pretty redhead with the sexy clothes and round boobs is not only not YOUR bitch, but is in fact not ANYONE'S bitch.

She looked at me briefly. I shrugged. It was a good point, even if it was delivered on the end of a verbal hammer.

To her credit, Linda didn't answer straight away. She gave the matter a fair bit of thought. Then, eventually, she nodded.

"Yes, I care. I like both of you, a lot, and if I were fucking your mother I'd want you both to be okay with it. If you weren't okay with it then it most likely wouldn't stop me," she added, giving Sandy a sharp smile, "but I still think it would be a happier situation if everyone was fine with it."

Sandy gave a curt nod. "I can respect that." My sister doesn't trust people who try to say the right thing rather than the honest thing.

Linda nodded at Sandy, approval writ large across her face. "Good! I'm glad we sorted that out. Or didn't, as the case may be. And now, with great style and subtlety, I'm going to change the subject for unknown reasons." She cocked her head at me. "So you're pretty hot over June, huh?"

"What?" I asked, eyes suddenly as wide as a rabbit in the headlights on an oncoming car. My glance flicked guiltily to the aforementioned bartender who, thankfully, was busy serving beer to a couple of businessmen.

"No need to be coy," Linda grinned. "It's obvious you like her."

I fidgeted, now far more aware of June's presence half a room away than Linda's hand on my leg. "Like, too obvious?" I asked, unable to keep the nervousness out of my voice. "Shit. Should I leave? I should leave."

"Oh no you don't," Linda objected, her smile growing Cheshire-wide. "It's okay. I think you'd be exactly to her tastes."

I breathed a sigh of relief. It was a breath I hadn't even realised I was holding. This is the curse of the redhead, you see - when we crush, we crush hard. It's not like I wanted to move in with her or have a hot naked lesbian wedding together but just wanting her was bad enough.

"You know," Linda said in a curiously slow, sly kind of way, "I think she'd probably like it if you came here more regularly."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to seem like a stalker," I blushed, and even though I was drunk I couldn't help but wonder at her tone. Still, more alcohol would cure that niggling feeling, so more alcohol is what I drank. "Does she, um, have a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend?"

"Got designs on her, do you?" Linda's voice was a downright purr and even the alcohol couldn't stave off the weirdness of it forever. I turned to look at her with a 'wtf?' look on my face and found her leaning oddly toward me, her breasts just millimetres from my body.

"I, um, maybe. Not as a girlfriend, I guess," I added, the woman's proximity heating me up. I leaned as well and the softness of her tits came into gentle contact with my arm. I felt her hand, the one on my thigh, squeeze. That certainly brought it back to my mind, I can tell you. I glanced at Sandy but she was staring off at nothing, sitting very still. "Um..."

"Hmm?" Linda looked over her shoulder and then glanced back at me, that grin ever-present. "Oh, Sandy's just trying to pretend I'm not second-knuckle deep in her cunt, that's all."

"Oh, you bitch," I breathed. Sandy just shrugged, blushing, not looking at me and very obviously fighting back a moan, a giggle or both.

*****

Have I mentioned we were all pretty drunk? Yeah. We were all pretty drunk. I can't figure any other reason how Linda managed to get us both to spread our legs so she could slip her fingers over our well-swollen lips while we tried, giggling madly, to drink our drinks and pretend nothing weird was going on. More than once I noticed June watching us and figured that chances were good she knew exactly what was happening.

No matter what you could or couldn't say about Linda, here's a truth: she's a master at edging. She can read your body and halt just a whisper before you reach your peak, backing off and letting you cool down whether you want to or not, unless you're willing to risk - given the context in question - shattering several public obscenity laws.

I was damn tempted. We both were. At one point she had me grinding up at her hand desperately, a hair's breadth from saying 'fuck it' and getting up on the table for all to see, but Linda knew just how to stop the action. If it were a nightclub I probably would have but things are a bit different in bars. Most bars, anyway.

This bar was... confusing. I saw the businessmen June had been serving watching us for a while, blushing and looking away whenever we looked their way, though one almost absent-mindedly rubbed the swelling bulge in his pants. The action was hidden under a table but I was at just the right angle to be able to see. A few other people in the bar had noticed, too, giving us those puzzled glances that said they were moderately sure what we were up to but not quite certain.

'Could they be..? No, surely not.' Those kinds of looks.

One thing I was certain on, though: if Mum ever did end up sleeping with Linda we'd be able to tell. She wouldn't be walking the next day, she'd be floating.

June was watching, too. After a few glances back and away, playing eye-tag with one another, we finally settled for giving the pretence away. I was being frigged almost to orgasm in her bar and she was watching it happen. And I mean it when I say she was watching me; she hadn't spared more than a glance for my sister and not much more for Linda. She was watching me, specifically me, and that made everything so much hotter.

So there I was, legs spread so wide it would be utterly obscene if anyone could see it, two fingers up my pussy, feeling the seat get wetter under me by the second. June was watching me, frozen in place with a dish towel in one hand and a glass in the other, her hunger so obvious I swear the air between us must have been several degrees hotter than the rest of the room.

I felt my pussy convulse as the foreshocks of an orgasm started, Linda's fingers pulling back as much in surprise as to cool me down, and my eyes rolled back. I bit my lip, let out a soft moan and then -

SMASH.

Not an orgasm, sadly. Nope. June dropped the glass. By the time I'd recovered and opened my eyes, realising release wasn't going to hit me, I couldn't see her - she was crouched behind the bar picking up the pieces of the glass as patrons hooted and hollered their good-natured jeers.

"I think it's time we were going," Linda commented in a heavy voice. She was breathing almost as raggedly as we were.

*****

The air outside the bar was almost as effective as a cold shower. The day might have been hot but no cloud cover means nothing to trap the heat in; the night was so cold I expected to spot a brass monkey coming down the street at any moment looking for a welder.

"You're coming home with us, right?" I asked as Linda forged a path toward a nearby taxi rank.

She turned to smile at me, a bitter and somewhat tired smile, and I knew the answer before she said it. My heart sank.

"I'm afraid not. I've got to get home. Besides, I'd like to think my friendship with your Mum could extend to coming home to spend the night with her delicious daughters but..." She shrugged helplessly. "I'm not sure. And until I'm sure I don't want to fuck things up."

We made sullen, disappointed noises but we didn't argue the point. Linda was like - well, okay, no. She wasn't like an aunt to us. Um. Obviously not. But as I've pointed out we're a close family and that includes our friends. We were both pretty damn sure that Mum wouldn't object too much to Linda coming home to crawl into HER bedroom but crawling into ours... It wasn't worth the risk. Dammit, we were both so horny we were all but on fire, yet we knew it wasn't worth the risk of upsetting anyone.

So, after a series of very lingering kisses and a complete and intentional lack of making future plans, we went our separate ways. Linda got into her taxi, waved and she was gone.

The place we live in has seatbelt laws so we weren't snuggling in the taxi home but we did hold hands. We didn't say anything more than a few words, not even when the taxi driver tried to chat to us, so the trip home seemed a lot longer than it probably was.

What could we say? We didn't want to talk about it in front of a stranger. Hell, sometimes Sandy takes a couple of days to process enough to talk about things at all, even with me badgering her. I had things to think about, too. We might be twins but we're individuals; some things a girl just wants to mull over to herself for a while.

When we got out of the taxi and stood together looking up at the house, though, that's when it became really clear we were both still, um, bothered by the experience. Sandy's arm went around my waist and she pulled me in for a close hug. For a while we didn't do anything or say anything, we just... stayed there.

"That was fucking hot." I felt as much as heard Sandy whisper it, so close to my ear was her mouth, the movement of her breath tickling my skin.

"Yeah, it was," I replied, letting my fingers slip up into the hair at the base of her skull. It took me a few seconds to realise what I was doing - caressing her. My hand froze and I tensed, quickly evaluating Sandy's grip - it was firm. If I pulled back she'd know something was wrong. So I didn't, I stayed there, slowly relaxing again.

After a moment she spoke. "You going to fuck that bartender? June?"

I didn't reply for a few long moments. Then I nodded. "Yeah. I hope so." She wasn't Sandy's type and I knew it. A lot of twins compete with one another but not us; if anything we tend to work together, which makes us more dangerous. "I mean, if she wants to."

Now Sandy drew back with a laugh. "What? If she wants to? She was glued to you, Sally, don't be dense. Whatever's going on in that head of yours, if it's about her, I'd bet your left kidney that it's mutual."

"Don't," I said, the automatic response coming immediately, the familiarity comforting. "I need that kidney. Bet your own."

"Come on," Sandy said briskly, leaning over to kiss me on the cheek. She missed and her lips touched my earlobe instead; the damp mess between my legs got warmer before my drink-addled brain really registered whose lips they were. The next day I'd wonder whether I my sister kissing me had turned me on because it was her, because I was already horny, because I was thinking of June or whether it was coincidental. Frankly, I'm still wondering.

The house was dark when we went in, quiet in that heavy kind of way when a place isn't empty of people, they're just not currently making any - or much - noise. There was evidence of past merry-making in the lounge room, though - two shot glasses, an empty bottle of wine and a half-empty bottle of vodka. Some expensive brand that Dane likes. Sandy frowned at it but I smothered a giggle and pointed at the ceiling. After a few seconds what I'd heard repeated itself - a very faint shuddery moan. Sandy's eyes lit up in delight and she grabbed my shoulder.

"Should we go up, rattle the door handle, freak 'em out a bit?" she suggested. My sister can be very mean when she wants to be - but it's all in fun. Nonetheless it was too much for me.

"No way!" I shook my head firmly, cutting off the coming argument. "She might be nice and it's about time Dane got someone into his bed."

If only we knew...

"Yeah, okay." Sandy nodded, mock-pouting a little, and on an impulse I leaned over and kissed her generous lips. The look of surprise on her face certainly removed the pout and I tugged her hand, feeling an odd rolling in my gut.

"Come on," I said quietly but cheerily, covering up the odd sensation of kissing my sister by treating it like the most normal thing in the world. "Let's go get some bedtime before the booze wears off." I pulled on her hand again, easing her out of the room. "We've already got plenty of water up there."

"Okay," Sandy nodded, letting go of my hand briefly to step across the room and grab the bottle of vodka. She shook it experimentally to watch the contents swirl about, nodded approvingly and took my hand again. We got glasses and Coke on the way through the kitchen. The night's drinking wasn't over.

*****

The conversation we had as we devoured the last of the vodka went as rapidly downhill as the drink did. I won't bother repeating it - I'm sure you're probably interested but to be honest I can't remember more than a third of it. I went on for a while about June, we talked a bit about university, we kept our voices down so that we could listen to the thump and moan from Dane's room. Whoever was in there was really getting it and, by the sound of it, really loving it.

I was burning. It just really wasn't fair, that was the problem, that I should come home so fucking wet and then hear my brother giving it to some woman right nearby. And it sure didn't help that when I snuggled down in bed, mostly drunk and trying my hardest (which wasn't very hard) to keep my fingers out of my pyjama bottoms, Sandy decided that curled up against me was where she most wanted to be.

Yeah, I bet you think you know where this is going. Well, this time you're probably right.

Sandy had her fingers wet well before I realised what she was doing. Curled up behind me, the big spoon to my little spoon, her hand slipped under mine and down into my pyjama pants. Up and down my swollen lips they curled, the tips slick and warm, swirling circles around my clit that made me moan. I was so drunk that it wasn't until she put her other hand over my mouth to muffle the horny sounds I was making that I even realised the fingers dancing at my pussy weren't mine.

I tugged my head to the side and up, leaning back until it was resting against Sandy's shoulder, my mind a fog of need and confusion.

"Wh-what th'fuck are y'doing?" I demanded in a harsh, husky whisper. In answer she stuck two fingers in my mouth and another two in my cunt, trapping me against her as she lay a pattern of butterfly-soft kisses along my shoulder. My g-spot was thick, swelled with blood and lust, and her fingers found it perfectly. A bizarrely sober part of my mind (or, at least, a part that probably still thought it was sober) wondered if our bodies were so similar that it felt like fingering herself. For a brief, hilarious moment I had an image of Sandy finger-fucking me in the mistaken belief that she WAS fucking herself, and I felt giggles rise in my belly.

Those skilled fingers, though, chased them away. I sucked on the digits in my mouth, rocking my head, licking them like they were a cock. I heard Sandy moan behind me and I let out my own muffled agreement.

A deep part of me pulled frantically at my brain, telling me that I was sick, that this was my sister. My cunt didn't care, closing hard around those welcome invaders, my hips rocking hard as my twin frigged me like she had a grudge.

I felt the twitching start as my first orgasm, treacherously close after Linda's teasing and the sound of Dane fucking that lucky girl in his room, rose up. My legs trembled, my back arched, pushing my tits and their rock-hard nipples against the fabric of the pyjama top I'd changed into. Sandy's hand clamped down over my mouth hard and I bit at the soft muscle of her fingers, fighting back the shriek as pleasure burst - finally! - through me.

With a liquid gush I squirted hard, my cum splashing into the palm of my lovely, wicked twin sister's hand, wet and sweet and hot. She didn't stop, didn't give me a moment to pause, toying with me hard until I convulsed a second time... Or maybe I just never stopped. I have no idea. All I know is that I came fucking hard, eyes screwed shut, fireworks bursting in my brain as I let my sister have her incestuous way.

"Can you imagine what it feels like?" she whispered hoarsely, slowing her fingers down and pulling out of me to stroke circles around my aching button. The hand that was muffling my cries transferred to my chest, toying and twisting and pulling at my nipples. "That big thick cock, pushing into you, fucking you..."

"H-he's... He's our..."

"I just made you cum like a demon and you're getting precious about who's related to whom?" Sandy smirked, her diction and grammar strikingly good despite her sodden state. "Besides, listen." Her teeth clung at my earlobe and I shivered, rocking back against her, waiting for her to continue.

When she didn't I worked out, kind of slowly and stupidly, that she didn't mean I should listen to her. I sat still and pricked up my ears as she leaned away and fumbled for something in the bedside drawer.

Moaning. Rocking. The distinctive creak of a bed protesting as someone got the utter shit fucked out of them in it. The headboard bumping the wall now and then. The occasional sobbing.

Sobbing?

I frowned and concentrated. "Is he doing her up the arse or something?" I wondered aloud, but that tone, that sound, was too familiar. It made my belly churn and my own eyes prickle with sympathetic tears. I'd heard that sound too many times over the last few years though, of course, under very different circumstances.

"Is that... Mum?" I whispered as Sandy finally got my favourite Feeldoe seated and pushed it between my legs. The moan I let out was half-strangled with lust. Rocking my hips back and forth, spreading my (considerable) wetness along the deep purple shaft, I angled myself and arched my back, waiting for Sandy to push into me.

"I think so, yeah." Sandy's voice was rough in my ear. "She hasn't fucked anyone in ages, imagine how tight she must be..." She laughed when I made a soft, anguished noise, pressing back onto to find her drawing away. "What? You want something? Tell me what you want," she purred.