Gemini Rising Pt. 01

Gemini Rising

PART 1

Twins spy each other spying on mom.

Chapter 1

It had to happen sooner or later. That it hadn't happened sooner was pretty remarkable, considering they'd both been up to the same taboo activities for around three months.

Phoebe came out of the hallway door of her mother's connected bathroom and quietly closed it behind her. She leaned back against the door to catch her breath; one hand still on the knob, the other thrust into her wet panties. Slowly she slid three fingers deep inside her pussy one more time, relishing the last tingles of the strong orgasm she'd had inside the bathroom. Still moving slowly, dreamily, she dragged her fingers out of her cunt, over her sensitive clit, and up to her waiting mouth where she sucked them sensually, imagining it was her mother's pussy juice she was tasting.

A small gasp nearby caused her eyes to fly open and her hands to move from mouth and doorknob to in front of her naked breasts. Standing just a few feet away in the hall, in front of their mother's bedroom door, was her brother Conrad. Frozen in place, the first thing Phoebe saw were his wide, staring eyes and gaping mouth. Her twin brother, "Connie", was obviously a fraternal twin since he was the opposite gender, but they still looked remarkably alike, almost like identical twins. So, looking at him often felt like looking in the mirror, and she was sure now was no different. She could easily imagine that the same shocked, guilty look she saw on her brother's face also marked her own.

Then she registered that they were also both bare-chested, although he wasn't attempting to cover it up. Not a guy reaction, is it? she thought randomly. And a nice chest it is, also pushed its way into her mind. Not that she hadn't noticed before, he'd been buffing up nicely since the summer before their junior year in high school. But while her earlier views had been generically admiring, they hadn't had this sexual overtone. Of course, the other times she'd seen him shirtless around the house or at the pool she hadn't been coming down from a powerful climax.

Dropping her gaze lower she saw that while she still had on her lacy silk undies, Connie was starkers and that's where his hands were busy. They were held down by his crotch, apparently covering his penis from view, but they also seemed to be holding something white, as was she. 'And here we are,' her mental imp laughed, 'caught with our hands in our cookie jars.'

After another frozen moment, the picture in front of her became clearer and her mind filled in the blanks. The white something Phoebe held was a hand towel she'd very much used in her mother's bathroom. But what Connie clutched in one hand was a wad of paper towels. And his other hand wasn't covering his cock, it was gripping the semi-rigid shaft. 'And it looks like a nice handful,' the little devil on her shoulder whispered into her ear. She realized Connie had been doing the same thing as her, jacking off while listening to their mother masturbate. The paper towels were to catch his wad.

"Oh, shit," her brother half whispered, half moaned. Connie had always been the more innocent of the two and was still trapped in the embarrassment of having been caught doing something very wrong, without yet realizing that Phoebe was just as guilty.

"Listen, Pheebs," he stammered, using her childhood nickname. "Um, uh, I can explain...I mean...Oh, shit," he finally repeated in defeat.

Phoebe figured Conrad probably thought she'd just been using Mom's toilet for some reason and had coincidentally caught him out. She automatically enjoyed being one up on her twin -- a deeply ingrained reaction they'd each developed over the years of being so close while simultaneously trying to be independent.

"Shh," she whispered, holding a finger to her lips. "Do you want Mom to catch you too?" His eyes bugged open again and he looked behind him to be sure their mother's bedroom door was closed.

"Come on," she said quietly, gesturing for him to follow her down to the other end of the hall where their bedrooms were located. She slipped through her door, leaving it wide open in a clear message that he should follow.

The boy stepped in, but stopped just over the threshold. "Come in, Connie, and close the door so we can talk," she whispered urgently as she nonchalantly dropped the wet hand towel into her laundry basket.

Closing the door of course meant he'd have to let go of something with one of his hands. He chose to kick the door back with his heel instead, but the hand gripping his now shrunken joint let go anyway, moving to join the other hand in forming a shielding cup over his crotch.

"So, just what the hell were you doing?" Phoebe demanded, taking a seat on the edge of her bed. Her long legs stretched out in front of her, crossed at the ankles. Her hands were planted on the edge of the bed, outside of either hip, which meant nothing was covering her beautifully shaped tits.

Like a fighter who keeps getting stung by a new blow before he can recover from the last one, poor Connie was unconsciously staring at his sister's firm, pointed breasts jutting from her chest. His confused mind was registering her swollen nipples without being able to also register the simple fact that she wasn't covering them up any more.

"Well?" she said; sounding stern, but internally struggling not to laugh.

Her brother gulped. "Well...", he parroted her question. "I, uh, I guess I heard some noise from Mom's room and was just making sure she was okay. But then..." his voice faded.

"Sooo, you heard a noise from Mom's room -- all the way down the hall -- then quickly stripped off your clothes and grabbed a handful of paper towels to rush down and see if she needed some help."

Red coloring rose in Connie's cheeks as he heard his lame excuse repeated back to him, with the extra, ludicrous details.

"You know what I think?" Phoebe continued, leaning back a bit, which made her breasts jut out even more above her flat belly. "I think you noticed Mom had an extra glass of wine or two with dinner and realized that meant she might play with herself soon after going to bed." Conrad twitched and gaped at his sister.

Phoebe pulled her feet up from the floor and scooted backwards to the head of the bed. She rearranged the pillows behind her and leaned back against the headboard.

"I think you waited in your room for a while...only as long as you could stand it...then snuck, naked, down to her bedroom door." She looked straight at Connie as she moved and spoke, gauging the emotions playing across his face as he watched her lithe, athletic body wiggle across the bed and listened to her Monk-like deductions.

Now she turned her gaze to the nightstand alongside her bed; knowing her brother had basically the same furniture setup in his room. "I'll bet there's a roll of paper towels right there." She nodded at the nightstand. "And that you ripped off a few before heading out the door." The blush that had been fading from his cheeks rushed back and she knew she'd hit the bullseye.

"When you got down there did you put your ear to the door? Is she loud enough, even when she's alone, that you could get off just listening to her?" His sister's words were accusatory in their interrogation, but she spoke them steamily. And as she did, her hands started making slow circles around her breasts.

"Was it like phone sex?" she continued, her voice becoming more breathless. "Pulling and stroking on your growing cock while listening to her? Does she talk to herself while she does it or does she just moan?" Phoebe tugged lightly at her sensitive nipples, making them swell even more, and moaned herself.

Conrad stood entranced, eyes locked on those beautiful tits, wondering how hard the nipples would feel under his tongue. His cock started growing into the damp wad of paper towels that still covered his crotch.

"You must have a great imagination, though, to be able to get off just from listening. What kind of pictures of her run through your mind while you do it? What does she say that feeds your fantasy?"

Her hands squeezed her tits hard, breast flesh bulging between her fingers. "Does she actually talk? Does she talk dirty while she plays with herself?"

That was exactly what his mother did and thinking about it while watching his hot twin maul her boobs had Conrad's prick back at full attention. The hand with the used paper towels hung at his side while the other slowly began stroking up and down.

"Does she say, 'Yes, that's it, squeeze my big titties,'?"

"Do you picture someone, maybe Dad, maybe yourself, pulling on those big, brown nipples as she says, 'Yes, a little harder. That's it, pull them.'"

As Phoebe moaned out these dirty thoughts she put them into action, grabbing her own small pink nipples harder and pulling them out away from her chest, making the skin stretch.

Connie fought the urge to stroke his cock faster, but he did grip it more tightly.

"'Now twist them,' she says, 'Twist my big, fat nipples; hurt me!'" Phoebe whined as she roughly rolled her own nipples between thumb and forefinger.

Just the way Mom does, Connie thought. Saying, "Hurt me", that same sexy, whorish way. Finally, it clicked. "Yes," he said aloud. "That's exactly what she does."

Without conscious thought Conrad discarded the moist wad of paper towels with a toss that went straight into the trash can next to his sister's desk; it stood in exactly the same spot in his room.

His eyes shifted from Phoebe's tits to her eyes as he slowly walked forward; each one's gaze becoming brighter, hungrier.

Eyes still locked together, her hands slid down slightly from her nipples and squeezed the tit flesh so the pink buds strained toward him.

He slid one knee up on the bed and without looking, his hands found each sensitive nub and began slowly and lightly squeezing...releasing. Twisting...releasing. Pulling...releasing.

"How much pain does she want?" he said in a low voice, referring to their mother, but meaning his sister.

"Enough to make her moan", answered Phoebe. Conrad grabbed her nipples between the thumb and first three fingers of each hand and began pulling them away from his sister's chest. She moaned.

"Enough to make her gasp", she continued. His ring fingers moved aside, allowing for a tighter pinch between the three remaining digits. Phoebe gasped.

"Almost enough to make her cry," Phoebe whimpered. Connie's middle fingers moved away, his index fingers bent and his thumbs pressed her flaming nipples against them and twisted. "Oh, oh, oh!" she chuffed.

The girl's hands had released her breasts and were now clutching fistfuls of bedsheet as she writhed in exquisite pain while her brother pulled her nipples away from her chest. Suddenly he let them snap back, sending a different rush of sensation through her.

Just as suddenly he slapped each tit twice; a forehand and immediate backhand that made her cry out in surprise, fear, and pain, but mostly in passion as the shocks seemed to travel directly from chest to groin, from nipple to clit, and she was almost cumming, eyes squeezed shut as she panted.

Slowly she regained herself, although her eyes remained closed. She began registering what was happening now, what her body was feeling. Strong hands were squeezing her breasts. Not painfully, but in control. Her right nipple felt electric, raw; even cold. Her left nipple, however, was warm, but still feeling electric. She opened her eyes and saw that Connie was suckling her.

Turning his head sideways, he released her nipple from his lips and locked eyes with her again. "Play with your pussy," he said firmly. She obeyed without thought; one hand pulling the gusset of her drenched panties to the side, the other squeezing the source of all that wetness.

Connie may have been a bit of a boy scout, but he was no saint. "Play with your hot, tight pussy. While I play with Mom's tits."

Phoebe gasped. It was as if his words had hit a nerve in her clit and she found herself thrusting her hips up from the bed.

His strong hands squeezed her breasts as he continued. "Mom's big, soft melons feel so good. You like watching me play with them, don't you? You like seeing the tit flesh squeeze between my fingers as I tighten my grip. Squeeze your pussy lips the same way."

Oh, God, she needed to get to her cunt! In a flash she curled up her legs and stripped her panties over her hips. The silk was whisked down and off, flying away with a snap of her wrist before both hands dove back into her crotch. Phoebe clutched the puffy lips while pressing the heel of her hand against the throbbing clit underneath.

Now her brother had both hands on one tit, squeezing from both sides, lifting it away from her chest. "I love playing with Mom's tits," he growled. "And she loves it too." He moved his hands to her other boob, squeezing it like a water balloon so it bulged toward her nipple. She whimpered and thrust her chest toward him, silently asking for more.

"Is that wrong of her?" he asked in a demanding voice. "Wrong to let her son play with her tits; to manhandle and abuse them?" He put a palm on top of each breast and pressed down, mashing the nipples into the soft flesh.

"So wrong," his sister said.

"Is it wrong that getting her tits tortured makes her pussy wet?"

"So wrong," Phoebe repeated, hearing squishing noises as she squeezed her own wet pussy.

"Tell me how wet, Pheebs. Stick your finger in Mommy's cunt and tell me how wet she is." As he said this, Conrad leaned in and rested his cheek on the top of one breast and gazed down along his sister's torso to watch her hands do his bidding. He saw the definition of her abdominals as her tummy muscles clenched from the incredible feelings emanating from her crotch. He used his strong hand to bend her tit toward his mouth, taking her nipple between his lips.

Phoebe ran a fingertip up and down her pussy lips, separating them a bit more with each circuit. Her eyes were closed and her head was arched back, mouth open. Her consciousness flashed back and forth between her throbbing nubs of flesh; the one between her legs and the other atop her reddened breast.

Objectively she could tell he was actually being very gentle now, slowly swabbing her nipple with the smooth underside of his tongue. But the beautiful pink tip was so tender from his previous rough treatment that each touch felt more aggressive than it really was. She was just about to push him away when he moved himself, as if reading her mind.

If he wasn't reading her mind, he was definitely reading her body. He moved over to her other tit, but seemed to know she was at a limit and didn't touch her nipple. He kissed around it, he breathed gently, warmly, on it, but he left it alone. Left it alone until he laid one gentle kiss on it before pulling away. No, not away. At least not away from her entirely. As his lips left her nipple, he rotated his torso to press them firmly against her mouth.

After blissful moments he relaxed the kiss, but didn't break contact. "How wet?" he asked into her open mouth.

She gasped lightly.

"How wet is Mommy's pussy?" he nearly growled.

Almost as if it was her twin's mind instead of her own sending the nerve signals down her arms, she pulled her lips apart and thrust her middle finger deep into her slightly gaping love hole.

"So wet," she moaned, her lips sweeping against his. "So fucking wet!"

"She's that wet from letting her son suck her tits?" said the boy.

"Yes," answered the girl. "From letting her own son squeeze and suck and torture her big titties." He squeezed her breasts the way she described, although he still just barely teased her oversensitive nipples. She stroked her finger deeply in and out of her tight teenage hole.

"Or is it from letting her own daughter finger-fuck her hot cunt?" he questioned suddenly in a harsh, dirty voice.

Phoebe moaned louder as a second finger worked its way into her -- her mom's -- 'hot cunt'. "Yes," she groaned. "Spreading her legs to take her daughter's fingers deep inside her is making her pussy pour."

"Her honey is pouring from her?" her brother asked plaintively.

"Absolutely gushing," his sister confirmed.

"How does it taste? How does Mommy's pussy taste?" he demanded.

She shoved her fingers deep inside herself to get them good and wet and then just as she'd done earlier in the hallway, she dragged them across her burning clit and thrust them into her mouth; imagining even more vividly that it really was her mother's juice she was tasting. "So good," she mumbled as she slurped. "So hot, so sweet, so nasty."

"Let me taste it," he ordered. "Finger fuck our mother and feed me the honey from the pussy that gave birth to us."

Oh, God, she thought. It's our mother he's talking about; the hole from which I was born. But all she wanted to do with that hole was abuse it and make her mother scream like a whore. Phoebe shoved three fingers roughly into her snatch and jammed them back and forth several times before yanking them out and offering them to her brother's waiting mouth.

He took them in hungrily, letting go of a tit to grab Phoebe's wrist while he sucked and licked. His tongue ran between her fingers, searching for every drop of her flower's nectar, then thrust the fingers together deep into his mouth before finally releasing them while gasping for breath.

Then his lips were on hers again, the taste of her pussy on both their tongues as they wrestled between their mouths. Both of them lost in the depravity of feeling each other and imagining their mother between them. Their dark, sensuous mother -- Leda.

## End Part One ##