Facets of Love Ch. 12

"Wow!"

"Like double wow."

"Are you shitting me Robbie? Two of them?"

I made the introductions, June grabbed Kristin by the hand, Julie took Kirsten and led them into the house, with April and I following close behind.

"Mom, Dad," April yelled once we got in the front door. "You're not going to believe what Robbie's been hiding from us."

I introduced the twins to my parents and then to Gloria and Angela fifteen minutes later. All of that went fairly as expected. Yeah, I did get a little embarrassed when every member of my family said "wow" when they saw Kristen and Kirsten for the first time, but neither of the twins took offense.

-

All things considered; Sunday dinner wasn't the disaster it could have been.

The three sisters treated the twins like their newest besties, each one competing to tell the most embarrassing "growing up with Robbie" story.

Mom welcomed them with open arms, and I swear she spent most of the night visualizing what her grandchildren would look like.

Dad and James didn't get to spend much time with them, the sisters monopolizing most of the twins' time, but if "eyeball rape" was a felony, both elder men would have been found guilty.

Aunt Gloria was on her best behavior and not only turned her sarcasm volume down a couple of notches but also let Nurse Angela eat in a chair next to her, instead of making her sub kneel on the floor by her side, as was usually the case.

Grandma was obviously upset about me bringing two of her clients to the house, but she didn't make a fuss about it. At least not that night. I was sure to hear about it later.

And the twins, what can I say. They nailed it. With the obvious exception of Grandma, when we left at 9:00, everybody in the family was willing to accept them into the family. And I'm pretty sure nobody but me saw Kristen do the 'touch her bare ass' thing behind the kitchen island a couple of times.

The ride from my parents' house back to Tampa was relatively quiet. I offered Kirsten the front seat for the ride home, but she deferred to Kristen. They asked a few questions about the different family members. I had to explain Gloria and Angela -

"Does the short, stacked blonde normally kneel at your aunt's feet after dinner?"

"Yeah. They're in a kind of 'sub and mistress' relationship."

"So, why did your dad massage Angela's boobs when Gloria went to the bathroom?"

"Angela gets anxious when Gloria's out of her sight. Dad does it to calm her down."

- but, other than little idiosyncrasies like that, the twins seemed to buy into the family dynamic.

It wasn't until we stopped at their condo, and I walked them to their unit that I realized they had something else on their mind.

"How do you do it?" Kristen asked.

"Do what?"

"Tell us apart," Kirsten said.

"Sorry. Still not following you."

"Come inside..." Kristen said.

"... we need to try something," Kirsten continued.

Kristen took my hand and led me into their living room. Kirsten followed and closed the door behind us.

"Stand right where you are...

"... we're going to disappear for a few minutes...

"... and when we come back...

"... we want you to tell us our names."

Not knowing what the hell they were up to; I did as they said.

Both girls went into a bedroom, closed the door, and reappeared five minutes later wearing identical nighties.

"Okay," Kristen said. "What's my name?"

"Kristen, obviously."

Both girls gave me an odd look, Kristen pulled up her short nighty, revealed the fact that she wasn't wearing anything underneath, and put a hand on her ass.

Giving each other an inquisitive look, they went back into the bedroom, closed the door, and not ten seconds later came back out.

"And who am I," Kristen said, this time standing on the opposite side of her sister.

"Still Kristen."

This time, when she did the 'touch her ass' thing, I also caught a glimpse of what might have been a patch of red pubic hair.

We went through this ridiculous exercise five more times. Giving me two more views of Kristen's charms and three peaks at what lay between Kirsten's legs.

After the seventh iteration I said, "ladies, as much as I'm enjoying this game, would you mind telling me what the hell we're doing?"

"Remember when we said we were telepathic...

"... and aren't able to separate one of us from the other."

"Of course."

"Well, up until know..."

"... nobody else could tell us apart either.

"But...

"...somehow...

"... you can."

"We first suspected it when you asked Kristen to ride in the front seat...

"... and all during dinner at your folk's house...

"...you were calling us by name.

"We thought you were faking it at first... so you wouldn't have to explain our situation to your family... but the further along we got into the evening... we realized you could actually tell us apart.

"So, how do you do it...

"How do you know which one of us is Kirsten and which is Kristen...

"... when nobody else can...

"... not even us."

"Before I answer," I said. "I'd like to ask you a question. If you don't know who you are, how can you tell that I do?"

Both girls blushed, which, if possible, made them even prettier than before.

"You've probably wondered why we occasionally touch our butts," Kristen said.

"Yeah, the thought's come to mind, especially in the past few minutes."

"That's how we know. When we were in fourth grade, there was a boy in our class who constantly harassed us... his name was Josh Brandon... and not to get too detailed about it... he got carried away one day... and accidently stuck a pencil in Kristen's butt... so deep that the pencil lead broke off... and the ensuing infection... left a small, permanent dimple... in Kristen's right butt cheek."

"So, when you touch your ass, you're looking for the dimple?" I asked.

"Exactly. If I feel a dimple, I know I'm Kristen...

"... and if I don't, then I'm Kirsten."

"It doesn't last long... our brains as so intwined... the knowledge of whose hand felt the dimple is soon put into a kind of cloud storage. Our combined mind remembers touching the dimple... but soon forgets which body touched it."

"How long does it last?" I asked. "After you've touched the dimple, how long do you know your name?"

"If we're close together like we are now... and are experiencing the same things... it only lasts for ten or fifteen minutes.

"But if we're separated... like in different rooms... where we are seeing different sights... and hearing different noises... then we can remember our names for an hour or two."

"Can I feel it?" I asked.

"The dimple?"

"Yeah, just to make sure you're not making this up."

"Sure," Kristen said. "As long as you pick the right girl."

I kissed her first. Grabbing a girl's butt without first kissing her would have gone against everything I'd been taught. I took her face in my hands, kissed her on the forehead, added a peck on her perfect nose, and then a solid kiss on the lips. Followed by another. And then added some tongue as my hands wandered down her sides, lifted up her nighty, and went searching for the dimple. When she said it was on the right butt cheek, I wasn't sure if she meant her right or my right. So, just to be safe, I took a globe in each hand and gently massaged the delicate skin until I indeed found a tiny imperfection in what was otherwise a flawless landscape of soft, firm, flesh.

The prolonged kiss started in the living room but ended in the bedroom. I had to momentarily stop kissing her when I pulled the nightshirt up and over her head and threw it in the corner, quickly adding my clothes to the pile.

Satisfied that I was with Kristen and not Kirsten, I removed my hands from her rump and let them play with two quickly hardening nipples which were perfectly centered on symmetrical areolas that capped a pair of breasts Michelangelo would have been proud to sculpt.

"Is this okay?" I asked while transitioning my lips from her face to her breasts. "Am I breaking some unknown telepathic twin rule by making love to one sister when the other is in the other room?"

"You may think you're making love to only one woman," Kristen said as she guided my lips to her nips, "but everything you do to me, is also felt by Kirsten."

I took my time. This was our first bedroom experience together and I wanted to make it memorable. Especially since I was supposedly making love to two women at the same time. Kind of like a virtual threesome.

To my delight, Kristen was a responsive lover who wasn't averse to offering the occasional critique of my skills.

"As much as we like what you're doing to our nips, feel free to work down towards the prize."

"Oh my god, whoever taught you how to lick a pussy should be voted teacher of the year."

And my favorite... "We've fooled around long enough. Get that enormous cock in us and do what you were born to do."

Which we did, starting missionary, spending a few minutes doggy, and finishing cowgirl with my dick fully encased in her pulsing pussy as I flooded her womb with a million microscopic Robbie wannabes.

That's when the screaming started.

Not the scream of delight I elicited from Julie every time she came on my pole while I pinched her oversized nips.

Different from Grandma's scream the night Dad and I double stuffed her ass and pussy while I spanked her bare bum.

And, when I took Nurse Angela's virginity while Aunt Gloria sat on her face, that muffled scream was nothing compared to what I heard after the first time I fucked Kristen.

First off, my previous experience with screams during sex always coincided with the height of a woman's orgasm. Her body shook, her pussy contracted, her toes pointed, her back arched, her arms flailed, and she screamed. All at the same time.

Not so in this case. There was no doubt in my mind that Kristen came. She displayed several of the customary tells, to include a pronounced moan as she shoved her quivering cunt forcefully down on my spurting shaft. But her scream came later. Like thirty seconds later. When most women quit verbalizing and started cuddling.

Secondly, unlike my previous experiences with screamers, this time it came in stereo. One scream coming from Kristen, who had collapsed into my arms, and another from her sister Kirsten, who was in the other room.

I instinctively wrapped my arms around Kristen in an effort to sooth her fears, but she pushed me away and was in the process of unplugging my slowly deflating cock from her puss when Kirsten stormed into the room.

The two girls momentarily froze when they saw each other and then Kirsten jumped onto the bed and hugged her sister.

"I thought I'd lost you," Kirsten said.

"Me too," said Kristen.

"Where are you?"

"I'm here, right in front of you?"

"I know that. My eyes can see you, but my brain can't hear you."

"Are you okay?"

"I think so. You?"

"Yeah. Although it feels different."

"So, what happened?"

"He happened," Kristen said, putting her hands on my chest. "Robbie did it. He did what nobody else could."

-

Dr. Martha Spencer Jones

There is a thing called 'client-patient confidentiality'. Most everybody knows about it. If you have cancer, colitis, or the crud, a doctor is not allowed to divulge your condition to other people without the patient's consent. Similarly, a criminal defense lawyer is legally bound to not discuss her client's murder charge without the guilty bastard's say so.

In my situation, I am not only forbidden to publicly discuss the sex lives of my intimacy challenged clients, I also am not supposed to divulge the simple truth that they are coming to me for help. Because just the fact that somebody is paying to see a mental health professional is often construed as proof they are having some sort of emotional problem.

For that reason, when Kristen and Kirsten showed up at the big house for Sunday night dinner and didn't tell the rest of the family that I was their therapist, I had no choice but to play along and act as if I had never met them before.

Kristen and Kirsten had an appointment in my office the morning after Robbie brought them to dinner. After their charade the night before, I was half expecting them to not show. And if they did, I planned to spend most of the session explaining why it was impossible for them to simultaneously date my grandson and continue seeing me professionally.

"You have to make a choice," I planned to tell them. "Keep seeing me and dump Robbie; or date a young man you've known for less than a week and lose me plus your last chance at living normal lives."

The decision was obvious. They'd stay with me. Robbie might get a little upset, but he'd get over it and eventually thank me for saving him from a life with two women who's deeply embedded mental issues would soon overshadow their fleeting sexual appeal.

It didn't quite work out as I planned.

Kristen and Kirsten bounced into my office ten minutes early, acting like they'd just won the lottery. Not the measly million-dollar, buy a new house lottery... they glowed like they held the winning ticket for a half-billion-dollar, change your life jackpot.

"He knows," one of the girls said.

"Who knows?" I asked.

"Robbie, your grandson, he knows our names."

"Yeah," I said. "About that. We need to come to an agreement about your relationship with him. I know he's charming -"

"And loving...

"... and sexy...

"... and smart...

"... but that's not what we're talking about.

"He knows who we are.

"He knows which one of us is Kristen...

"... and which one is Kirsten...

"... just by looking at us.

"And even more importantly...

"... he can separate us."

"By separate, do you mean separate your minds?" I asked.

"It didn't last long...

"... maybe an hour...

"... but, for the first time in our lives...

"... we couldn't read each other's mind."

"How?" I asked. "How did he do it?"

"He, uh, he loved it out of us."

"Can you be a little more explicit?"

The girls paused, as they often did when contemplating a tough question, taking time for their two brains to come up with an acceptable Kristen-Kirsten joint answer. After a brief shrug of their shoulders, one of them said,

"He fucked us apart. He did things to Kristen's body that nobody had ever done before. And, as we've told you previously...

"... when a man fucks one of us...

"... he fucks us both...

"... in all senses of the term.

"But, in this case...

"... we came so hard, we nearly passed out...

"... and when we recovered our senses...

"... we were no longer attached."

-

Remember when I talked about client-patient confidentiality? Well, there's a few loopholes in the rule. The first being the clients' ability to waive their rights to privacy. If the McGonagall twins agreed to let me share their issues and treatment plan with their boyfriend, then I was allowed to let Robbie in on the plan.

Secondly, if I needed the help of a specialist to treat my clients, then said specialist was allowed access to the particulars of the client's problems.

And lastly, if I no longer charged the twins for my services, I could claim to be nothing more than a kindly, not-so-old grandmother helping her grandson get over a few rough spots in his love life. Meaning that our future sessions couldn't be held in my office.

10:00 am the following morning, when everybody else in the family was either at work or in school, I met Robbie and the twins at the big house.

Robbie and Kristen went to the cabana. At least I think it was Kristen. I still couldn't tell the two girls apart, but Robbie claimed he could.

After giving my grandson his marching orders, Kirsten and I retired to my old bedroom on the second floor. She climbed onto the bed, I sat in a comfortable chair, and we had a short discussion while waiting for the scientific experiment to start.

"It is imperative that you not hold back," I told the pretty redhead. "Unlike you, I cannot read minds, so you need to verbalize everything you feel and experience during the exercise."

Kirsten nodded her head and then giggled.

"What are you laughing about?" I asked.

"Robbie's telling us about the first time he had sex," Kirsten said. "It was the night of his eighteenth birthday and also the first time he ever slept in the cabana. He was sound asleep when an older, but extremely sexy woman climbed into bed with him. She was completely naked and had enormous breasts-"

"Kirsten," I interrupted. "Please ask Kristen to tell Robbie that a girl doesn't want to hear about his previous conquests."

Kirsten giggled again. "He knows that. He said it's an inside joke."

"Well, tell them to get back on task. We want to get this done before his mother comes home."

"Sure thing Doc Spencer."

Kirsten got off the bed and stood on the floor. She was facing me, with her eyes wide open, but her focus was elsewhere.

"We're going to switch things up." Kirsten said the words, but I wasn't sure whose brain they sprang from or whose ears they were meant for.

She took a step forward, looked upwards, and kissed the air... two or three times if my interpretation of her lip movements was correct. And then a couple of more times with her mouth wide open and her tongue protruding from between her lips like a snake on the prowl.

Backing off a step, Kirsten's luscious lips went from full pucker to an impish smile as she slowly unbuttoned her blouse and, when done, removed the garment and dropped it to the floor.

Her bra was next. She skillfully undid the front release and, when the C cups fell away, the two mounds of soft flesh bounced playfully but did not sag a millimeter.

"You like? I know they're not as big as most of the boobs in your house, but they're certainly more than a mouthful and these," she said pointing to her nipples, "are extremely sensitive to your touch."

As if to prove her point, Kirsten's nips doubled in size. First the right nip transitioned from a cute bump in the middle of her areola to a hardened thimble of desire. And then the left nip followed suit. Not from any manual stimulation that I could see. Her hands were busy unzipping her skirt. Whatever was happening on the other end of her telepathic link was not only being transmitted to her brain, it was also affecting her body.

"Tell me," I said. "Tell me what is happening."

Either Kristen refused to hear me, or Kirsten refused to answer. Instead, she slowly backed herself up to the edge of the bed, dropped her skirt and panties on the floor, and fell backwards onto the soft mattress.

I got out of my chair and kneeled not a foot away from the mesmerized girl as a pair of phantom lips and hands continued to pleasure her body.

"No. Not there," she said with a wince and a giggle. "Our belly buttons are extremely ticklish.

"Yes. That's the spot. Right there... run that wet tongue of yours up and down our slit... It's been a long time since we've had a proper pussy licking.

"Oh my... we didn't realize how wet we've become... yes please... stick that finger up our twat... yeah, go ahead... two fingers will fit... and we love what your thumb is doing to our clit... keep going... we're almost there...

"What the hell... why'd you stop?

"Oh my god... that is absolutely amazing... nobody's ever French kissed our pussy before...

"Shit... now where are you going... why are you teasing us... we were so close...

"Yeah... we know you like to kiss, but...

"Wow... we can taste us on your lips... and we have to say... we taste great... but don't forget what we're supposed to be doing.

"How about I give you a hint. Stand up a second and I'll show you."

After a moment's pause, Kirsten rolled off the bed and dropped down to her knees on the floor with her butt resting on her heels.