The Commander Ch. 05

A thought struck Fiona after she returned to the table and was putting the paper down. "Wait!" she cried. "You were going to do this anyway?" I nodded. She just realized she made her bet in the airport for nothing. "You bastard!" She smiled and started boxing me around the head, more with love taps than anything serious. I responded by standing up, wrapping my left arm around her waist, and pulled her in for a kiss while I fondled her left breast with my right hand.

"Hey!" she yelled playfully, pushing me away. "No touching until I sign!"

"We need a witness," I remarked, "so we might have to try abstinence for a while."

"Fuck that," she retorted. I thought she was joking, but she left the condo, leaving the door open using the deadbolt, and returned with our neighbor, Carl, in under a minute. She explained to Carl we had legal documents to sign, and we needed a witness. Carl seemed unfazed, so he agreed. We signed the document in triplicate (using my newly acquired Jet signature) in Carl's presence, and he witnessed our signatures with his own on all three copies. Fiona thanked him and walked him to our door, locking it after Carl left.

As she returned, I held up the old "zero" agreement to Fiona. She snatched it from my hand and ripped it up again and again and then threw the tiny shredded pieces over her shoulder with a smirk. "Where were we?" she asked, wrapping her arms around my neck and began kissing me again. This time I brought both my hands up and caressed her lovely breasts through her shirt.

Fiona broke away after a few moments and looked at me. "Can I have some time to think about Jocelyn?" I put my arms around her waist and replied of course she could. She hugged me for a long time, and then asked, still hugging me "Did you change this prenup because you love me?"

I didn't want to admit it -- not yet. Believe it or not, I prepared myself for this moment -- it just came sooner than I expected. "That's not the question I ask myself every night before I go to bed and every morning when I wake up," I said. She was learning to trust me a little more, so she was not concerned with my response, but she was curious enough to ask the obvious.

Fiona broke away from her hug and looked me in the eyes. "What question?"

"How could you ever learn to love me after all the bad things I've done to you."

Her eyes welled up but she didn't cry. "I'm trying, but it's very hard," she spoke softly. "I like who you are now, but I'm still very scared of you. And parts of me are fucking angry at you. I need time."

"I know," I reflected.

Fiona hugged me again, and she whispered in my ear "It might take a long time. Please don't give up on me."

"Let me help you, and I promise I won't give up on you."

"Okay," she agreed, and Fiona sealed the deal with a kiss my neck.

--- Three Weeks Later ---

As I pulled into the airport short term parking lot, Fiona and I were talking about our first sky diving class we had just attended the night earlier. I wanted us to start doing things together outside of the bedroom. We discussed ideas a few times, and we eventually agreed sky diving was something we'd both love to try. The ground school was three evenings -- we had just finished the first class on Tuesday -- the night before.

There were about twenty people in the class. It was a typical classroom setting with desks and chairs in rows and a larger teacher's desk and a chair at the front. I noticed the instructor, a fit, short balding man in is forties, set a small potted plant on the corner of his teacher's desk before he brought the class to order.

About an hour into class, the instructor was explaining how to pull the rip cord -- bring both arms in to your chest, grab the rip cord, and then pull both arms straight out. Then he told us how to deploy the emergency chute in the event the rip cord doesn't work -- reach behind your neck, grab the handle, and pull it up sharply.

At that point, the student sitting behind Fiona asked what to do if the emergency chute doesn't open. That's when the instructor walked over to his desk, grabbed his potted plant, and threw it straight down at the concrete floor as hard as he could, causing a thousand shards of pottery, dirt, and plant to explode across the front of the classroom. I could hear shrieks all around the classroom, and I saw Fiona put her hands up to her face defensively.

"Listen up!" the instructor bellowed over the hubbub. "This sport is dangerous -- it is not for the faint of heart, and it is not -- I repeat -- NOT -- for people who have trouble following instructions. If you are extremely careful every time, there is a good chance you will live. Those of you who think parachuting is the same as jumping on your bike and riding down the street should leave the class right now and get your money back, because after tonight you don't get a refund." I watched three people stand up, gather their belongings, and run out of the room, including the person who asked the question. They didn't return. Fiona and I stayed in our seats.

As I backed the BMW into the parking spot at the airport, we were talking about all sort of what-if's from the night before. What if the instructor had used a pumpkin or a watermelon that sprayed "guts" over everyone. What if they showed a video of a guy who pancaked into the ground. The conversation ground to an end as we stepped out of the car.

Jocelyn's San Antonio flight was routed through Chicago. We checked online before we left the condo, and it was reported on-time, and Jocelyn had texted Fiona confirming she made the flight.

Fiona took my hand as we walked through the parking lot to the airport terminal. We arrived at the baggage carrousel just as Jocelyn's flight touched down, so we waited about twenty minutes. I recognized Jocelyn the instant she stepped through the door from the security restricted zone. She was a true duplicate copy of Fiona. As the two women closed together for a big hug, I watched several passengers in the baggage area stare in amazement. One senior fellow, either genuinely or as a lark, took off his glasses, cleaned them, and put them back on. Everyone couldn't help but watch two identical, gorgeous, blue eyed, tall blonde girls loudly welcome each other in a hearty embrace.

As they turned walked toward me together, I was shocked at just how identical they were. I was expecting Jocelyn to be heavier or lighter, more or less tanned, or other subtle differences. I remember thinking thank God Jocelyn's hair was a few inches shorter, because without that, I feared I would have serious trouble telling them apart with their clothes off. As we waited for the luggage to loop around the carrousel, Jocelyn grabbed me in a huge hug and kissed me on the cheek. "I knew you'd come to your senses," she whispered out of Fiona's earshot. I skipped her right there, and whispered back "You will treat Fiona with respect and dignity the way a nice sister should. You will do everything I tell you to do. You will not ever try to steal me away from Fiona. And you will remember everything we do as being fun and as things you would like to do again."

Fiona shot me a look, wondering what we could be whispering to each other. "Actually," I said loudly as I pulled back, "this was Fiona's idea," referring to the bet she lost weeks earlier in this same airport. Later, at the condo, when Fiona had me alone, she asked what we were whispering about. I told Fiona exactly what Jocelyn whispered to me, and then I told Fiona that I whispered back that Jocelyn had to promise to treat Fiona with respect and dignity, or I would send her back home right there and then. I told Fiona I didn't want to embarrass Jocelyn by letting Fiona overhear me dressing Jocelyn down, and that's why I whispered to her. Fiona said she liked how I handled that.

We retrieved Jocelyn's luggage and walked to the car. I offered to let the girls sit in the back seat together to chat more easily, but Fiona declined, and sat in the front seat and turned her head back to talk to Jocelyn most of the time. While I drove to the condo, Fiona and Jocelyn caught up on several years the way only sisters can -- talking as if they had never spent a moment apart. Jocelyn babbled on about her house in San Antonio, how she was remodelling the kitchen, how she had just upgraded the bathroom with a Jacuzzi, and how she had the exterior completely landscaped.

Fiona, in turn, talked about our trip to Paris, the yacht ride, the five star hotel next to the Champs Elysees, the first class lounge, and on. I realized the girls were in a catfight over who spent more of their boyfriends' money. I stayed out of it and drove.

I pulled into the condo underground parking as the girls were remembering Pete, a boy in their high school, and they were laughing hysterically at his crazy antics. Pete had released over 10,000 crickets into the school building one weekend. They had all dispersed into the crevices and ductwork by Monday morning, but students could hear the unmistakable sound of cricket chirping for years afterwards. And remember the time Pete welded Principal Badger's doors shut on his pickup truck? Or how about the time he broke into the girls' locker room during gym class, found out how to pull the entire assembly of metal lockers away from the concrete wall as one solid unit, and the lockers had no backing on them, so Pete simply reached into each locker and stole every girl's bra. Jocelyn had her bra stolen that day, but not Fiona -- she was in a different class. Jocelyn and Fiona roared about the three guys who asked Jocelyn out on a date that day after gym class!

The girls were still giggling as I opened the door into our condo. Fiona had ordered some Szechuan take-out before we went to pick up Jocelyn, so she put it in the microwave, and we ate dinner at the dining room table. I poured beer for everyone while Fiona asked Jocelyn the whereabouts and status of various people back in San Antonio.

After dinner, the girls confided to me that they had conspired by email that there would be no three-way tonight. They girls wanted to prepare a special surprise for me tomorrow, which was fine by me. We stayed up and chatted about old times, about our lives, and about saving the world's problems as our self-proclaimed IQs inflated with each additional drink.

At two in the morning Fiona showed Jocelyn the pull-out sofa in my office, where she would sleep. I had installed an extra blow-up mattress earlier that day from the storage room to make the pull-out more comfortable. Fiona and I cleaned up the dishes while Jocelyn oriented herself to her temporary quarters, and soon after we all went to our own beds.

"That whisper you told Jocelyn sure worked," Fiona told me once we were in bed. "By now Jocelyn would normally have made several mean remarks about me to make me look bad in front of you."

"I'm glad you approve," I offered. We kissed tenderly and fell asleep at three in the morning.

On Friday morning I rose and showered, shaved, dressed, and made coffee. I had plans to go to Jet's business office. I had located it two weeks earlier. I now understood why Jet had kept all his investments in cash or convertible investments. After I went through his business office papers, I discovered Jet had planned to invest nearly five million of his own dollars in his new investment advice business. As a former business owner, I am convinced Jet would have lost all his money -- he would have been wiser to put all his funds in a banking savings account. I cancelled all of Jet's business plans, and that Friday was the day I was closing the office for good.

Speaking of Jet, I had noticed over the recent weeks that my ability to access his memories was growing weaker. I found the memories more difficult to retrieve, and when I did link to a memory, it was much more fuzzy and less useful than earlier memories had been. I theorized that the legacy Jet was disappearing, and he was losing his hold on these memories as I gradually replaced them with my own.

The news on Don was as expected. His heart infection had cleared up, but his cancer was becoming critical. The doctors were saying he was nearing a point where a quality of life decision was imminent. I reiterated my instructions to the doctors on behalf of Don -- the hospital should take every measure to prolong his life. I planned to visited Don's house again that day to make sure things were normal.

At breakfast in the condo, Fiona told me she and Jocelyn had their own plans for the day. I was to be back at the condo no later than five that afternoon, and that I was to make reservations for the three of us at a nice restaurant for eight o'clock. Five o'clock gave me more time than I needed at Jet's business office, so I had no problem with that schedule.

I made it back to the condo just after four-thirty. As I stepped in, I heard the girls talking, so I called out hello.

"Hi!" Fiona shouted back. "We're in our bedroom -- we're not decent -- you can't come in." I dropped on the sofa and turned the TV on. A few moments later Fiona walked out with a towel wrapped around her head and wearing her bathrobe. "Hi, Jet," she smiled and came over and kissed me hello. "We're going to be a while. Do you mind pouring us some wine?" Fiona followed me as I went into the kitchen and poured two glasses of Chardonnay from the fridge. She kissed me again and disappeared into the bedroom with both glasses. As I watched the bedroom door close behind her, it just then occurred to me I had only assumed that was Fiona. This was promising to be an interesting night.

I poured myself some red wine, and watched some recorded TV. Every once in a while I heard a burst of laughter erupt from the bedroom. I realized the girls were going to be in total control of tonight, and I found myself okay with that.

Just before five in the afternoon, the bedroom door opened and someone called out that they're nearly done, and to get ready. I didn't know what I had to do to get ready, so I turned off the TV and stood there, waiting. I heard hushed words I couldn't quite make out, sounding like last minute agreements and collusions, and then they stepped out into the hallway with matching smiles.

To say I was shocked could not convey the magnitude of my astonishment. First, they were the most gorgeous pair of women I have ever laid eyes on -- and second -- they were so perfectly, exactly, flawlessly identical, it defies description. The girls had spent the day shopping together and then went to the spa together. They purchased identical outfits, including shoes and jewelry, had identical makeup professionally applied, identical fingernail treatments, and had their hair put up into identical buns. Even their eyelashes and eyebrows were identical.

They each wore a Persian blue mid-sleeve sheer top that matched their eyes perfectly, with white piping that accented their blonde hair. Underneath their sheer tops, I could see outlines of darker blue lingerie that celebrated their voluptuous figures. Black leather flare miniskirts showed off their long shapely legs, with a fine golden thread woven through the hem to accent their identical bronze tans. Each wore identical high heel shoes with a blue and black criss-cross open lattice across the top of the foot that unified their top and skirt colors. They wore matching diamond stud earrings.

Their eyes sparkled with delight and they couldn't stop smiling. On some unspoken cue, they twirled once around in unison, letting their skirts flare outwards. As they completed their pirouette, they advanced toward me. I then realized their plan was to give me no hope of telling them apart, or letting me identify which one might be Fiona.

The stood in front of me, smiling. I at last recovered my senses. "You ladies are a vision of heaven on earth," is all I could muster, thinking how corny that sounded as I said it.

"You get to have us both tonight," said the one on the left.

"And you will never know which one was your girlfriend," said the one on the right. Even their voices were identical.

I wasn't certain how to proceed. I was suddenly alarmed by my own indecision. I am normally so confident and in control, but I found myself having to quell my growing paralysis. I told myself doing something wrong is better than doing nothing at all, so I stepped forward, put my arms around the waists of each of them, end then I tenderly kissed the one on the left (I'll call her Fiona 1) and then the one on the right (Fiona 2).

"That makes me the luckiest man who ever lived," I replied to both of them, again feeling uneasy with my lame platitudes. It occurred to me we should take a moment to get into the mood, and then another thought interrupted my first. "Do you mind if I take a picture of you two?" I asked. They looked at each other, shrugged at each other in a way that conveyed a thousand words that could only be understood through the lifelong bond of twins, and then both nodded in agreement.

I went to Jet's office, which also served as Jocelyn's bedroom, and retrieved a Canon EOS DSLR camera I found there weeks earlier. When I came back into the living room with the camera, the girls were already practicing their poses. I took several full frame pictures of both of them, along with head shots and bust shots. The girls posed in various combinations of frontal, three-quarter, profile and behind shots. At one point Fiona (I don't even know now if it was Fiona 1 or 2 -- from now on I'll just call them both Fiona), while posing for a behind shot, jutted her ass out and lifted up her skirt, revealing a naked pussy -- Fionas were not wearing underwear.

Fiona asked me to put the camera down, so I switched it off and set it aside. "We have a little show to warm things up," other Fiona told me, and without another word, they started kissing full on the mouth as they both groped each other through the sheer fabric of their shirts. Then Fiona reach around and lifted the back of Fiona's skirt up, and started fondling her bare ass, while Fiona slipped her hands between Fiona's legs and felt upwards until she reached Fiona's pussy. The two Fionas continued kissing throughout their show.

I was so mesmerized by their show that I hadn't become aware of how rock hard I had grown. "Someone is getting excited," Fiona observed as she pulled away from Fiona and came down to her knees and gently kissed my shameless bulge through the fabric of my pants. The other Fiona stepped over to me and kissed me passionately on the mouth while I let my hands wander over the lovely curves of her silky blouse.

Kneeling Fiona started to unzip my fly, so I took that as a cue to pull standing Fiona's top off. She raised her arms agreeably, and I slipped the silky fabric over her head effortlessly. Standing Fiona was wearing a navy blue Chantilly lace stretchy camisole that hugged every contour of her perfect breasts. I slipped my hand beneath the camisole fabric and started to caress Fiona's tits while Fiona below, having already unzipped and dropped my pants, took my granite cock into her mouth.

Fiona sucked me gently for a minute, and then went deep the way I know only Fiona can, and I was pretty sure I had just figured out who the real Fiona was. I was so aroused I felt my balls start to churn after only a few minutes. I wanted this to last as long as I could, so I pulled out of Fiona's mouth and told the Fionas it was time to switch positions, but first I took standing Fiona's camisole off, revealing the perfect breasts I have come to know and love.

Topless Fiona when down on both knees while the other Fiona stood up and took her own top and camisole off, giving me free reign over her lovely breasts. Now Fiona below took me into her mouth, and immediately deep throated me right up to my balls, and I realized it felt exactly the same as the other Fiona. Of course, standing Fiona's tits felt identical to her sister's breasts that I was feeling just a minute earlier.