The Winner

Copyright © 2017 by HisArpy. All rights reserved.

Reproduction or transmittal in whole or part in any form

or format without prior permission of the author is permitted.

Names, characters, and events depicted in this work are the

product of the author's imagination and are fictitious in nature

and intent. Any resemblance to actual events, locations,

organizations or persons is entirely coincidental.

Authors note:

This is an erotic novella - 29,000 words in three contiguous

parts. It includes graphic descriptions of interfamilial sex

and references to brother/sister incest, mom/son/daughter

and/or stepmother/stepson/stepdaughter sex as well as group

sex and cheating.

The Winner

One

Their laughter drew me into the kitchen. Nick and Saint were at the kitchen sink washing the breakfast dishes together. Standing shoulder to shoulder, they made a beautiful couple. Saint's slender feminine physique both complimenting, and contrasting against, Nick's stronger masculinity. At five foot ten each, both of them were tall with dark hair and eyes, their bronze skin tones meshing with each other perfectly while I was inches shorter and pale blonde.

Laughing while using their elbows, hips and shoulders to push and shove at each other, they were sloshing the soapy water around the sink. Knocking each other's hand out of the way, they fought to grab whatever was hidden under the suds.

"Winner!" Saint held up the spoon triumphantly.

Nick laughed again and kissed her on the cheek. "Leap Day."

Ah, so that's what it was. Born on Christmas day, they'd been whimsically named by their mother as Saint and Nicholas. Identical twins, they usually got along without any strife. On even numbered days they did what Nick wanted to do. On the odd numbered days it was Saint's turn since she'd been born first and one was an odd number. But, with there being an uneven number of days per year, they'd decided that it wasn't fair that one of them would be left short changed all the time, so they created what they called Leap Day to even out the year. Unlike the calendar leap day, they had more than one per year.

How they figured out which days were Leap Days, and which weren't, was incomprehensible to me. But, just like the extra day in a leap year, Leap Days were their version of a freebie. A day where, according to them, there were no rules. No leader either. On those days they fought. They wrestled. They chased, and ran, and sparred, and challenged one another endlessly. Sometimes in silly games like this morning's spoon chase, sometimes in earnest, like the time when Nick gave Sin a black eye while boxing out in the back yard.

No matter the game, be it one of physical strength, skill, dexterity or just blind chance, they spontaneously competed with each other in everything they did on that day. The one who came out on top declaring themselves Winner. The response from the other twin always being the words Leap Day.

The most intriguing bit, whatever the end result, was that they never carried it past that particular day, not to the next day or even to the next Leap Day. They didn't even tease each other over who won or lost their little contests. Not ever. Once there was a winner it was over, no resentment, remorse, or second guesses. Nor did they ever mentioned that particular outcome again, Nick not even seeming to care about Saint's black eye that one time. Saint had just looked at me like I was crazy when I'd mentioned it, almost as if she was asking me; what black eye?

After drying his hands on the kitchen towel, Nick slid his arms around Saint's neck, leaning in to kiss her gently on the lips. Saint held her arms out to keep him from getting wet as she returned the kiss. Uncomfortable with what they were doing, I cleared my throat. Saint opened her eyes and rolled them to look at me, still not breaking off the kiss. In fact, she pressed herself tighter against Nick's body, kissing him harder while closing her eyes again to ignore me.

"I love you." Nick's words were soft once the kiss ended, Saint echoing his words exactly as they spoke in unison, cheeks rubbing against each other like cats marking territory.

"Enough," I chastised them. Their constant hand holding I was ok with. The touching and hugging I was less ok with, but they were close twins and some of it could be excused for that reason. The kissing and caressing and everything else I wasn't so ok with. It was just too intimate for my taste.

Their personal relationship with each other was very strange. Especially to me. As their stepmother I was a fairly new addition to the family, marrying their father just over a year ago and never knowing the twins as anything other than adults. I was still discovering some of the very odd things they did which no one had warned me about.

Like the part where they talked at the same time, with the same words, in the same cadence, tone, and inflection. Or answered questions on each other's behalf without pause, the other twin just going on with whatever they were doing as if they had answered. The freaky part about that being if I asked again, the, I don't know, correct twin?, would tell you they'd already answered. Except it'd been the other twin who'd responded. It had taken me awhile to get used to that. Ok, ok, truth, it was still weird and I was still working on getting used to it.

Those things were bizarre enough but the thing where they were always in bed together really bothered me. They both insisted, despite what it looked like, that they were just sleeping, or talking, which, according to both of them, is why they left the bedroom door open when they did it.

It nearly gave me a heart attack the first time I saw them in bed. They'd gone to sleep in their individual rooms the night before but sometime in the middle of the night Saint had moved from her own bed into Nick's. Passing by his open bedroom door the next morning, I glanced in to see them both in bed together. The covers were in disarray, hanging off the foot of the bed while leaving them in full view.

Nick had been tightly spooned in behind Saint with his arm over her body as they slept, Saint's dark hair trailing over the pillow they shared. As shocking as that had been, the fact they were both naked at the time made it worse. Immediately I hauled Saint from the bed before dragging her back to her own bedroom, screaming at them both. Tom ran in to see what I was yelling about.

"Christine, stop."

Tom caught my hand before I could slap some sense into Saint. Gently he pried my fingers off of Saint's arm even as he kept his eyes away from her nakedness. Propelling me through the bedroom door we passed Nick, now wearing pants, who slipped past us and ducked into Saint's bedroom. I could hear her crying as Tom pushed me down the hallway toward the living room.

"What the hell is this?" I hissed at him. "Incest? You never told me about any of this."

"It's not incest." Tom sat with me on the sofa, holding both of my hands tightly.

"Then what do you call that?" I jerked my chin toward the bedrooms.

"It's not." Tom shifted closer. "They're twins. You know how they say twins have this bond with each other? Nicky and Sin definitely have one."

"Saint," I refused to say Saint's preferred nickname. Especially not this morning.

Tom sighed as Nick and Saint appeared, Nick's chest still bare with Saint now wearing jeans paired with a tiny spaghetti-strap halter top. They were holding hands even as Saint sat in a chair, Nick folding himself to the floor at her feet. Tom sighed again as I shifted uncomfortably at the sight of them and the fact that it was obvious Saint wasn't wearing a bra. Probably still no underwear either. My lips firmed at that thought.

"You have no idea how many times I wanted to talk to you about this. There just wasn't ever a good time. Mostly because it's a very large, complicated, and easily misunderstood discussion. There isn't a good place to start this conversation. There aren't even any small things to talk about to prepare for the whole subject. As soon as any part of it comes up everyone immediately thinks what you just did." Tom tried to explain what was going on.

"Incest isn't that hard to understand."

"I told you, it's not incest. They're twins."

"Chimera twins." Saint added.

That stopped me. I had no idea what that meant.

"It means he is me. And I am him."

"And that's supposed to mean something?"

"It means they both have a double DNA profile. Depending on where you get the DNA sample, you'll either get Nicky's or Sin's results, or both. Sin's saliva has Nicky's DNA and vice versa. They're mirror identical, even down to their DNA." Tom sorted it out. "Nicky is Nicky with Sin's DNA and Sin is Sin with Nicky's DNA. They are exactly the same."

"Except one of me has a double X-chromosome pair." Saint's fingers gripped Nick's hair, giving him a tiny shake to show exactly who, in her opinion, was the better for it. Nick looked up and stuck out the tip of his tongue, Saint grinning down at him in response.

"One of me?" Oh crap, now what, multiple personality disorder on top of the incest? Was it the incest which caused it or was the incest the result of it? What did I get myself into? Had I made a mistake? They'd seemed normal when Tom and I started dating two years ago. Handsome, late thirty's widower with two beautiful adult kids, they'd fit the picture of the almost perfect family, at least to me at the time.

Saint nodded. "We are me."

I looked at Tom again in confusion.

"The English language doesn't have the right words so sometimes the words they, we, have to use don't have the normal meaning or usage. Trust me, she's not crazy. You aren't either. Just listen. Please. And try not to think bad thoughts."

Tom waved his hand at Saint to have her continue. "It always sounds like an excuse or coverup coming from me. You know you're the one who's going to have to explain."

Saint rolled her eyes but started explaining. The cadence of her words telling me that it was rote and that she'd done the same thing, with the same words, numerous times in the past.

"Nicky and I are the same person. Genetically there's only one difference, he is XY/XX and I'm XX/XX. Everything else is the same. Exactly the same. He is me and I am him. We are so much the same person I can feel him if we're near enough. Just like you can close your eyes and know where your hands and feet are, I know where Nicky is."

At that point she stopped looking at the ceiling and rocking her head in time with her words, switching to stare directly at me. "I know exactly where Nicky is. Watch."

Saint stopped talking and closed her eyes. Nick closed his at the same moment. Together they reached out with a finger, Nick lifting his hand over his shoulder while Saint extended her arm forward. Evidently they were going to touch their index fingertips together as proof they knew where the other one was.

Suddenly Nick started moving his finger around randomly. Saint, giggling in fun, began chasing his finger with hers. For a few seconds they dodged and evaded each other's finger with their own. Eventually they stopped to meet unerringly in mid air. Their eyes were still closed as their fingertips met squarely, almost sensuously, as they finished the demonstration. Saint opened her eyes to look at me even as Nick pulled her hand forward. She blinked as his lips brushed her palm, cupping her fingers under his chin and ignoring my instant frown.

"I can feel him. And he can feel me. He knows how I feel. He knows when I'm feeling sad or lost or angry or frustrated or lonely. I know when he's happy or sad or hurt or feeling bad because no one understands me. That happens a lot."

"A lot?"

"Nicky had a girl friend once," Saint explained with a story. "Just a friend. Ivy really liked him. I liked her too and we got along really good, all three of us. Her mom made her stop seeing Nicky because she thought, just like you, that what you just saw means something it's not. Ivy won't even talk to me now because she believes what her mom told her and what everyone says about me. What you think about me now too."

"What about you, do you have a boyfriend? Go out on dates? Without Nick?"

Saint just looked at me like I had two heads.

"If they're apart too long it's painful for them." Tom added that bit when neither Nick or Saint said anything.

"It hurts. A lot." Nick rumbled from his seat on the floor. He'd been silent up until then, Saint being the more talkative one of the pair. To the point you sometimes almost forgot Nick was even there.

"It makes things hard because people don't understand. They think I'm weird or something. No one understands, Sin is me not someone else. Me! She's not just my twin, she is me!"

"So you don't date. You don't go out. You don't see other people. You just . . ." I pointed my finger over my shoulder toward the bedroom. "Get naked with each other."

Saint glared at me. "We aren't doing anything except sleeping! Sometimes in my bedroom, sometimes in Nicky's."

"They've always done that, swap beds at night I mean. To be safe, Sherrie made them leave the door open when they swapped. That way, if there ever was an emergency, we'd know where both of them were. Now that they're adults, the open door shows they aren't doing anything shameful behind a closed door because there isn't a closed door. It's no different than if they were napping here on the couch together."

Except they wouldn't be naked on the couch. Maybe. I didn't really know any more.

"It's why I have queen sized beds too." Nick rumbled from down on the floor. "So there's enough room for both of me."

I ignored him to look at Saint. "Just sleeping? Nothing else? Ever?"

"No." Nick again. "I love Sin. She knows it. We don't need to do anything to prove it to each other."

At my disbelieving look Saint took it up, her tone mirroring her frustration at what she thought was my refusal to listen and understand what they were trying to tell me.

"When I was little it was ok for me to sleep in the same bed, but now that I'm twenty it's bad? Why? Because I'm male and female? That's a stupid reason. I know what Nicky looks like. We know what Sin looks like. I know my two halves are different physically. So what. I'm Nicky and he's me. We don't need to have sex with each other to know that."

At the words sin and sex I squirmed.

"See! That's exactly the problem. You don't want to understand. You don't even want to try. To me it's like I can actually touch the reflection in the mirror. Not the mirror surface, the actual person on the other side. And that person is me! Me! Yet you think that sleeping with myself is perverted somehow. That because half of me is male and half female you think I must be having sex. With myself."

"Everyone thinks that." Nick rumbled again, a hint of emotion in his voice. Saint ran her fingers through his hair to soothe him. "Dad explained it once. It still doesn't make any sense. It'd be like a masturbating with a nightmare or something."

I looked from one to the other and then to Tom. "You talk about sex? And masturbation? With both of them?"

"People don't understand and they say things where all of us can hear them. After awhile we got to the point where we could talk about it clinically without being embarrassed. That was years ago."

Saint shrugged when her father finished. "It's just words. At first it was awkward but it got easier. Mostly because what they say is a lie. We all know Nicky and I don't have sex with each other. Talking about not having sex is a lot easier than if I tried to talk to dad about actually having sex. That would be really hard to do. Dad's nice but there's no way he'd understand. Not really."

As Saint explained Nick screwed up his face in disgust. His father's face was neutral as I glanced in that direction. Ok, as a single male parent he'd probably had nightmares about having those, that, whatever, discussion with them. In any event, I still wasn't convinced. There was way too much overt sexuality going on here.

Saint sighed. "We're not doing anything but I'll try to remember to wear something to sleep in. Ok? I won't promise I'll always do that, because sometimes I'm not thinking straight, but I'll try. That way you won't freak out again."

"I'd rather you just slept in your own room. By yourself." I looked at Nick. "With a lock on the door."

"Mom, I can't. No more than you can leave your skin here in the living room while you sleep in your bedroom. Try it sometime then tell me it doesn't hurt."

At that point I'd stopped. I really had no frame of reference so what could I say to counter her? And Saint played the mom card too. Coming after only a couple of months of me living with them, the endearment said a lot about how she really felt about me. About how much she accepted me in her life even though she really didn't know me any better than I knew her. To say such a thing had to mean she trusted me. The question was; was I worth her trust? I didn't know the answer. Mostly because I didn't really understand the situation under the current circumstances. I only knew I didn't like the way it looked despite their, and their father's, denials and assurances.

Saint had gotten up to cross the room and sit on the arm of the couch next to me. Slowly she'd leaned over, keeping her eyes on mine as she did.

"I love you mom." Her words were soft as she touched her lips to mine. "Please love me back. Please?"

Abruptly my chain of memories broke and brought me back to the present. We were in the kitchen, not the living room, and Saint was lightly stroking Nick's cheek with her fingers, their eyes locked on each other like lovers in a tryst.

"Nick!" I tried again to separate them both. Brothers should not kiss their sisters, not like that, and definitely not in my kitchen. Or anywhere else in my house either.

"Nicky," Saint corrected me absently, leaning forward for yet another kiss.

"Saint, stop it." I moved close enough to pull them apart, Saint whirled as I touched her elbow.

"You stop it!" Saint grabbed Nick's hand as she yelled back at me. "You don't care. We told you how I am but you won't listen. You don't care enough to believe me. You won't even say my name!"

"Saint . . ."

Saint nearly screamed in frustration as she stomped her foot. "Say it! Say my name. Just once say my name. My real name."

"Sin . . ." Nick's rumble came as he pulled on Saint's arm to get her to move away.

"No. She doesn't care. She doesn't love me." Again Saint whirled toward me. "You don't, do you. Just like everybody else, you think I'm some kind of slut. Right?"

"That's not true. I don't think that about you." I kept my voice low to try to get Saint to calm down.

"Then prove it. Tell me you love me."

"I love you." The words were easy to say because I actually meant them. I did. I just hadn't said them to her before.

"Then why don't you show it?" Saint pressed me.

"I do."

"No you don't. You won't say my name and you won't ever be alone in the same room with Nicky. If you're someplace and I come in, you leave. If you go into a room where he is and there's no one else with me, you won't stay. If I'm alone with me, you act all suspicious like we're doing something wrong."

"Saint . . ."

"Don't lie! I can feel him. I know. You're afraid of me. Because you don't love me."

"I just said I did. I mean it. I love you. You and Nick both."

Saint suddenly spun and pushed me against the refrigerator door. Blocking me from escaping with her arms she leaned close, her lips bare fraction from mine. So close I could feel the breath behind her words as she spoke.