The Lancaster Twins Pt. 01

The truth was that she was dying to. She had just been thinking how she had not masturbated in several days and that a "walk" with her brother would be good motivation for it. She shrugged. "Sure. I don't know why not." Her heart-rate increased just thinking about his hands on her.

Even though nobody was home and there was no way anyone could see them, the twins didn't hold hands until they got to the woods. It felt so natural. They held hands all the way to their special place. Jennifer was dressed in denim shorts, cut off as short as her mother would allow. She wore a sleeveless basketball jersey that she had outgrown some years back. It was perfect for working in the sun, though. It gave her excellent ventilation through the arm holes and left about an inch of her tummy exposed. Jackson wore running shorts with no shirt. In his thinking, it was just too hot to wear a shirt to work on the farm. He didn't know it, but his cute sister approved of his no-shirt choice. She could ogle his manly upper-body to her heart's content!

They both removed their shoes and waded out to the flat rock. Jennifer sat down in her customary place, already anticipating the feel of her brother's hands on her. Jackson eased down and put his long, tan legs around his sister, so that she was snug between his legs. He knew that his cock was already getting hard and that his sister's beautiful ass would be mashed up against it. She never seemed to notice, he thought. They never discussed such matters.

His hands were soon massaging her shoulders and back. Jennifer told him that it felt good because her muscles were aching from bending over in the garden. Then his hands encircled her sexy tummy. As he played with her navel, eliciting giggles from her, he thought how perfectly beautiful she was. Even her stomach was flat and tanned and he ached to just kiss it. He really wished he could kiss her mouth.

"I love you, Jen," he said as he kissed the back of her shoulder. This was not an unusual thing. They had always told each other 'I love you' and they had frequently kissed each other, but not on the lips - not since they were small and played games about being married adults. Light pecks on the shoulder or the cheek were frequent.

She raised her arm and, reaching back, pulled his head over her shoulder and kissed his cheek. "I love you, Brother Dear!" she giggled, as he tickled her again.

He really did love her. Like a man loves a woman, he reflected. Not like a brother loves a sister. He knew that his feelings were not reciprocated and knew that was probably a good thing, but still, he ached for her and longed to express his love to her. He would never hurt his sister in any way, so he thought it best not to tell her of his feelings. He figured that he would eventually outgrow them. He gently played with the warm skin of her flat stomach, probing to feel the musculature of her tummy. It was so sexy.

"Liking those abs, Bro?" she giggled, enjoying his touch immensely - way more than he knew.

"They're impressive. You still do all those sit-ups?"

"Not like I used to, but yeah. I had to do them for basketball. No more basketball for me, though," she said, sadly. She had been a good player, but not good enough to play in college. She had been too shy to be aggressive enough to go to the next level.

"Well, let's hope you don't just let yourself go like some women," he teased.

Jennifer leaned back, laying her head on his shoulder so she could kiss his cheek. "You're crazy, Jack. I love you!" she laughed. She didn't realize that when she leaned back that her breasts were thrust upward in a most enticing and sensual way. Jackson certainly noticed.

His hands were soon, ritually, making their way up her sides. 'Yes,' she thought. 'Touch them, please. I need you to touch them!' her brain screamed.

From Jackson's viewpoint, he knew not to move too quickly. He always did the same things, the same steps. He knew he couldn't do something differently that might startle her. He always rubbed her shoulders, her back, her tummy, then made his way up her sides toward the backs of her incredible, lust-inciting, breasts. What he wouldn't give to see them naked!! He had, many times, seen her in her bra when they were in the bathroom together, and once had seen her naked from behind. Her butt was great, too, and he loved seeing her tight buns peek out from under her tee shirt when she was applying makeup, but he was a tit man. The one time he saw her naked from behind, he could only see the sides of her breasts and he still thought about that sometimes when he masturbated. He knew that, as long as he didn't do anything differently and didn't move too quickly, he would be rewarded with a short feel of his sister's breasts. Even though she always, always, always wore a bra, it was still enough. He would take what he could get.

Jennifer was wishing that he would move more quickly. She loved the feel of his hands on her breasts; during the times that they had played this "game", the amount of time that she had allowed him to hold them had increased by small increments. She wanted him to know what they felt like. She wanted it to be worth his time and not frustrate him too much. She knew, however, that she absolutely could not allow her brother to "play" with her breasts. This was not fondling or playing with them, she told herself. It was just satisfying their mutual curiosity. He was curious what his sister's breasts, or any woman's breasts, felt like. She was curious what it was like to have a man feel of her breasts. As his hands began to make their way from the back of her breasts to the front, ever so slowly, one frustrating millimeter (micrometer?) at a time, she closed her eyes, concentrating on his fingertips. How she would love to allow him to hold them as long as he wanted, massaging them like he did her back and tummy. She felt the wetness between her legs and knew that she would imagine her brother playing with her breasts - or more - when she masturbated, later. She didn't love him like she would the man that would become her husband - she knew that - what she felt for Jackson was just what twins feel for each other. They were almost the same person. All of this was just natural. She was sure of that. As soon as they reached adulthood and got married, this would just be a silly memory of their childhood. They would never speak of it and would be embarrassed to even think of it. But for now -

Jackson's fingers were moving almost imperceptibly toward the front of his sister's bra-encased breasts. He thought that the tips of his fingers were probably near her nipples, buried deeply inside her bra. He could only imagine how thrilling it would be to actually touch her bare nipples. It was almost more than he could bear, just thinking about how sexy it would be to just see them, much less actually touch her bare breasts. His cock felt like a log and he marveled that his sister never seemed to realize how turned on she made him or that he had a perpetual erection when she was around.

Jennifer was breathless with anticipation. She had never indicated to him that she wanted him to touch her breasts or that it felt good to her and she was fearful that he might detect just how much she liked this. It would be unacceptable to let him know that she enjoyed this very improper, and forbidden, activity. It would likely be embarrassing to him if she let him know that she was well aware of his erection almost every time she was around, and that she liked the feel of it against her ass. She knew that boys had erections and that they couldn't help it. No need to make a big deal of it. She told herself that neither of them were doing this for any kind of sexual gratification - even though her masturbation sessions later were a by-product - but only the normal result of a healthy curiosity. This was perfectly normal behavior, she rationalized, and she was sure that many siblings must do the same thing, especially in situations where they were brought up in a sexually-repressed home. She was glad, however, that she had been taught that sex was something sacred and precious - and she hated the idea of being sexually promiscuous - but she was a healthy young woman and her body had been created with natural desires.

Jackson's hands closed on her breasts and it was all she could do to suppress a moan. It felt so good! What would it feel like if her breasts were bare? She wondered why Jackson had never tried this when they were upstairs together, she without a bra. She must not allow herself to think of that. She had planned to allow Jackson to get his feel. It would be unkind to immediately jerk his hands away and chastise him, as she had the first few times he had attempted this. No - she knew that she was attractive to boys and she realized that it must be especially difficult on Jackson to see her every day, sometimes without a bra on when she was ready for bed. She knew he was morally pure and she imagined that he must wrestle with his conscience about how attracted he was to her breasts. So she would not condemn him. Of course she couldn't just give him license, nor could she make this into something sexual by letting him know that it felt good and that she craved it more and more each time!

Jackson tentatively squeezed her bountiful mounds. He was thankful, each time, that she didn't immediately stop him. It was almost as if she were unaware that he was holding her breasts. She didn't move. She didn't make a sound. She never indicated if it felt good or was uncomfortable. He held them for a few seconds, enjoying the feel of them, memorizing how they felt in his palms. Then he very carefully applied a minute amount of pressure. His sister allowed him a couple of seconds then tenderly grasped his hands and brought them down to her lap. No chastisement. Nothing to indicate that she didn't want him to do it, except the fact that she stopped him - but he had the pleasure of holding her beautiful breasts for all of 15 seconds, he estimated. He was so turned on that he could feel pre-cum leaking out of his cock. He would certainly head to his bedroom to masturbate as soon as they got back to the house.

The twins held hands as they walked back through the woods, enjoying these moments of unspoken intimacy. Jennifer's panties were soaked and she contemplated possibly masturbating before bed that night. She liked the feeling of being turned on and wasn't as anxious to give herself pleasure as was her brother. She smiled to herself, reflecting on how much pleasure she derived from just the few seconds that she had allowed her twin brother to hold her breasts and, of course, just getting to spend time with him, alone.

Jennifer decided that, yes, tonight she had to masturbate. She liked to put it off as long as possible, enhancing the pleasure, but she couldn't wait another day to relieve herself. Added to the trip to their special place, and all its attendant pleasures, her father and brother both arrived for supper, both shirtless. They had worked hard and were dirty and sweaty. Her father was rarely shirtless, but when he was, she liked to admire his muscles. She wished that she could run her hands over his pecs, abs, back and shoulders, but knew that would be terribly inappropriate. Still, in her heightened state of sexual arousal, his body served to stimulate her even more. She even thought that she might allow herself a special treat tonight - penetration.

Jennifer had experimented with various objects. It started with a smooth handled hairbrush that she had rubbed on her clit. For some reason it felt better than her fingers and it had been a favorite thing for quite a while. One night she was especially horny and feeling naughty. She decided to slip the handle inside her. It was relatively small, flat, and perhaps as wide as two fingers. She slipped the end of the handle inside and soon met resistance. She knew that was her hymen. It felt so good as she began to slide it in and out of her tiny cuntal opening that she got a bit carried away and, suddenly, felt a sharp pain. Upon examination she saw blood and realized that she had broken her hymen. This disturbed her and she didn't even finish because of the pain and guilt.

Over the next few days she accepted the fact that she was no longer, technically, a virgin. She had read some articles online and discovered that many girls broke their hymens, accidentally, in various ways, before having sex. This was a great comfort to her and the next time she masturbated she inserted the hairbrush handle as far as it would go - about 4 inches. She was tight, of course, but she managed it and it felt wonderful, especially when she imagined that she was having sex and that her imaginary lover was penetrating her with his penis. She didn't allow herself to even think words like "fuck" and "cock". As she got older, though, she began to permit herself to think those words, realizing that just thinking them or mouthing them as she masturbated enhanced the experience.

She had decided that penetration was something that she would only allow herself occasionally, theorizing that she might become desensitized to it if she did it every time she masturbated. She began to look for other things that she could insert into her vagina that would be both safe and sanitary. She used her fingers, of course. She had a shampoo bottle with a long slender neck that she tried. It was okay, but wasn't as smooth as the hairbrush handle, and didn't penetrate much farther. She considered a candle and a banana, but didn't think either was a good idea. She liked to take a tub bath and would turn the faucet so that it was dripping, just a drop every few seconds. She managed to scoot herself so that it would drip on her clit. There wasn't enough pressure to give her an orgasm, but the longer she allowed the faucet to drip on her, the more her horny body was titillated. Ultimately she would dry off and lay on her bed to masturbate.

Then one day she was perusing some items in a dollar store and found another hairbrush, but with a much longer, and thicker, handle. She gladly paid the $1 and anticipated using this new-found friend. The handle was approximately 8 inches long and twice as big around as her other hairbrush - still not as big around as a man's penis, she thought, but it would do the trick. It was made of smooth plastic. She didn't allow herself the use of her new hairbrush until she was particularly needy. This had happened one day when she and Jackson had taken a walk to their special place, she had allowed him to hold her breasts for several seconds, and, for some reason, his penis felt particularly big and hard against her ass. It excited her and she wondered what it looked like when it was swollen and hard. She had seen Jackson in his boxer briefs and could tell that, sometimes, his penis appeared to be hard. She always averted her eyes, as she did when Jackson was taking a leak when she entered the bathroom, not wanting him to notice her staring. She had seen images on the computer, usually by accident, and they never failed to make her panties wet with lust. She knew that she should not look at such things, and rarely did. It was unthinkable to her to view actual pornography. On this particular day, on the way back to the house, a bull was following a cow around, smelling at her rear end, his long, pink bull cock hanging below his body, wet and dripping with anticipation. He tried several times to mount the cow, his long, thick cock telescoping out of its sheath to seek penetration, but she always walked away, not allowing him to breed her. Jennifer thought that the bull cock looked to be nearly 2 feet long. It made her blush and made her body tingle. Jennifer had seen cows mating before, and she was very curious, but on this day she was already wet and excited from being with Jackson in their special place. She decided that she would use her new friend that night.

When she was ready for bed that evening, she took the new hairbrush and washed it carefully in hot water, then removed all her clothes, spread a towel on her bed, and lay down. She knew that her juices would get her bed wet if she didn't put something under her. She stood in front of her dresser and admired her body. She squeezed her breasts and pushed them together. She liked what she saw, and she allowed herself to imagine her brother - or her father! - seeing her like that. She reached down and spread her pussy lips, admiring her shaved pussy, and enjoying the sight of her swollen clit. She touched it and gasped. She felt how wet her pussy already was and imagined her brother touching her there.

She lay on the bed and, spreading her legs, inserted her middle finger into her pussy. The pleasure was almost overwhelming. She reached for the hairbrush and began to lick it as she played with her pussy. She inserted a couple of inches into her mouth and almost came when she imagined having a real cock - perhaps Jackson's - in her mouth. She licked the handle of the hairbrush, then rubbed it on her breasts, giving special attention to her nipples. They were swollen and hard. They pointed slightly upward. She wet her fingers in her mouth and rubbed her saliva on her nipples, gently arching her hips off the bed as if an imaginary lover were with her. Then she took the hair brush handle and got it wet in her mouth before rubbing it on her clit. She gasped and moaned. She needed it inside her. The time had come. She couldn't wait to feel it inside her. She slowly fed about 4 inches into her, about the length of her other hairbrush handle. She made a stirring motion with her hand imagining a man doing that with his penis. Then she pulled her knees up until they touched her breasts, which splayed her pussy wide open. She took the hairbrush and began to insert it very slowly. She was so tight that it didn't slide easily, but with minimal pushing, because she was very wet, she was able to push it in with no pain. It was so tight and snug, yet slick. The feeling was incredible. She pushed the smooth handle as far as she could, then twisted it. Her mouth hung open. The feeling was exquisite, very close to an actual orgasm, but not quite. She loved it when she was able to get herself into such a state, and she was not in a hurry to rush past it toward what she knew would be an earth-shattering orgasm. She began to very slowly withdraw the plastic phallus, then to gently ease it back in. She slowly increased the pace, loving the feeling. She wondered if actual intercourse felt better than this. She imagined some boys at school doing this to her. She knew she should not imagine her own twin brother doing such a thing, yet when she allowed herself to imagine him doing this to her, it was so much more exciting than imagining anyone else - except perhaps her father, which she refused to think about. As she pushed the handle into her pussy and imagined Jackson, on top of her, his hard cock inside her - she felt her orgasm building and knew that it was too late to stop it. To maximize it, she gently pulled and pushed the handle in and out and whispered, "Jackson, you feel so good in me!" Her orgasm hit her. She withdrew the hairbrush handle and a gush of liquid spurted. She didn't know if that was normal, nor did she care. She fingered her clit rapidly as she continued to cum. Her breathing was heavy. She moaned. Her muscles threatened to cramp. The muscles in and around her pussy spasmed, deliciously. She lay in the afterglow, thankful that masturbating was a normal and healthy thing. She regretted that she had unsavory thoughts of her brother and others, but she figured that was just part of it. She wouldn't worry about that, too much.

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The twins had never been apart for more than 2 days at a time. They had always just taken each other for granted, and never thought much about what would happen should they be separated for an extended period of time. A couple of weeks after graduation, Jackson was to leave on a trip he had earned as president of his high school's Future Farmers of America chapter. They would be traveling to Washington, DC, and he would be gone for over a week. At first, Jennifer didn't think much about it. In fact, she was very proud of him. She was a little jealous that he was going to get to see so many sights that she had never seen, but she wasn't one to pout. She knew that she was supposed to be happy for people when they met with success, and she was. As the day of his departure approached, however, she began to dread being apart from him. Not only would she have more chores, which wasn't a big deal, but things would just be different. There would be a void. He wouldn't be across the hall, or through the bathroom door, if she got scared - not that this ever happened. There would be nobody to pick on constantly or to tease her. There would be nobody to beat in basketball on the goal beside the driveway. There would be no "walks".