The Winner

"Prove it. Kiss me."

"Saint . . ."

"Ahrrrr, you see!" Saint threw back her head while nearly screaming and growling at the same time. "I love you but you don't love me at all. Why? What is wrong with me that you can't love me back? What?"

"There's nothing wrong with you."

"Then kiss me. Show me. Prove that you love me."

"Saint, this isn't right."

"There's nothing wrong with this."

"I'm your stepmother."

"So?"

"Saint . . ." I pushed at her arms.

"See! You don't love me. You say you do but you don't. You're just being cruel like everyone else."

"Saint, I'm married to your father." I tried again to redirect her.

"So?" Saint repeated herself as she leaned close again. "I don't understand how you think. I don't understand at all. My dad loves you. I do too. He thinks you're sexy and beautiful and everything, yet you don't consider that I have the same genetics. His genetics. I also have the same likes and desires he does and I think you're sexy and beautiful and desirable too."

"Saint . . ."

"Ahhhh!" Saint screamed again, abruptly slapping her hands against the refrigerator door. Nick pulled her back, lifting her into his arms with Saint wrapping her arms around his neck as she let him. Nick carried her from the kitchen, her eyes were closed while Nick's looked like barely contained frustration, or rage.

I took a few minutes to calm down before following them. First asking myself if I was ready for this before debating on whether to call their father or not. Eventually I decided to not call him at work over it, I didn't need him to be forced to pick a side or be our referee. This was something Nick, Saint, and I had to sort out between us and involving their father wasn't going to help or make it any easier. It might even make it more difficult. What I needed to do was find a way to get through to Saint. I needed to talk to her and I needed to get her to talk to me. Somehow. We'd tear each other apart if I didn't.

With that decided I left to find them. That was easy, Saint's tennis shoes were in the hallway just outside Nick's bedroom door. Her top was dumped on the floor in the doorway opening itself. It was a statement of defiance. She was going to do what she wanted no matter what I told her.

The door was open. Looking in, Nick's and Saint's jeans were on the floor. Saint's panties were on top of Nick's pants while her bra was hooked over a knob on the dresser drawer. Saint was face down, her leg hitched over Nick's as she snuggled close, her hair spreading across her face to spill over Nick's chest. Eyes closed, lower bodies barely covered by the sheet, they were both naked. Again.

"What?" Saint's voice was muffled.

"The house is burning down." I tried to change the mood with a little levity. It was better than just accusing them again. I hoped so anyway.

"Good, let it burn." Saint tucked her face deeper into Nick's chest.

"I plan on it. I'm only here to rescue you."

Oh hell, that didn't come out right. It was obvious from how fast Saint rolled over and glared at me that it didn't come out like I'd meant it to.

"I didn't mean that like it sounded." I held up my hand to stop her, averting my eyes from her nudity. "Sorry. I was trying to be funny."

"It's not funny. I don't need to be rescued from myself."

Sighing over the fact that this was already going sideways again, I sat on the edge of the bed. Nick scrunched over to be sure I had enough room. Saint sat up, crossing her legs into a lotus position while the sheet fell away to completely expose her body.

"I know." Casting my eyes away, to give her visual privacy if nothing more, I focused on the heap of clothes.

Her panties were right there. Pastel blue cotton. Size three. I knew that from doing the laundry. She had a half dozen pairs of the pastel blue along with some pale green ones and a few candy striped ones in different colors, evidently preferring pastels and stripes over plain white underwear. Like me. She was a lot like me.

Bending, I picked them up, hooking them over the other knob on the dresser beside her bra. Next I picked up her jeans, intending to fold them just so I had something to do instead of giving up and walking out or just sitting there feeling stupid and awkward. Saint's hand interposed before I could.

"Stop. What do you want?"

"I want us to be a family."

After a moment Saint took her jeans from me to throw them on the floor again. "We are."

I shook my head.

"Yes, we are."

The bed bounced as Saint climbed to her feet to stand in front of me, her hands on her hips. I looked away.

"Look at me! See me!" Saint pulled my face around, flashing her other hand down her body to indicate herself. "I'm no different than anyone else. I don't have any extra parts. I'm not missing any parts. I have everything you do. I'm normal. I'm not a freak, I'm like you. Just like you. Look at me!"

I looked. She was pretty, beautiful actually. Slender, fit looking, with smallish breasts and a very narrow strip of short dark pubic hair low on her flat stomach.

"I look like you do."

"I have more hair." Okay, where did that come from? And why?

`"Laser."

Saint instantly responded to my comment without hesitation or embarrassment. Almost as if she jumped at the chance to talk to me about something other than her and Nick's unseemly appearing intimacy.

"I got tired of shaving and waxing. So I got most of it permanently removed when I was eighteen. Nicky's been done too. Except he's bare."

"Uh, I didn't need to know that."

Saint just looked at me. "Why not? You're my mom now. You're supposed to talk about this stuff with me. Who else would I talk to about it? Dad?"

"Do you? Or did you?"

Once again she gave me that perplexed look. "I'm not a pervert. Neither is my dad."

"I didn't say you were. I was just asking."

"Well, we don't. After my real mom died I stopped having anyone to talk to. Everyone thinks I'm too weird and they don't want to get close to me."

"I don't think you're weird. Unusual, but not weird."

"Yes you do."

"No I don't. Really. It's just that I'm not used to talking about this. Remember, I don't have any experience with any of this kind of thing. It's all new to me and I don't know the rules or your personal boundaries. You were supposed to be the one to tell me about those things."

"Oh. Sorry." Saint plopped next to me on the edge of the bed, scrooching over until we were thigh to thigh before reaching out to hold my hand. We sat silently next to each other until Saint sighed softly and squeezed my fingers.

"There are no rules. You want to know something, just ask me and I'll tell you. Ask me anything, no limits." She plucked at the vee of my shirt with her other fingers. "Except this; no clothes. They make it harder for me to understand."

"Understand what?" I avoided the no clothes thing because she at least was talking to me instead of just yelling that I didn't understand her.

"I can't tell if you're lying or not."

"I'm not."

"Prove it." Saint lay back down and patted the space on the mattress between her and Nick. "Take off your clothes and talk to me. My real mom did and she loved me. I knew she loved me. Prove you love me too, talk to me. Without clothes."

"Saint!" Ears burning I immediately stood up. I was not going to get naked in front of my stepson even if Saint was casual about it for herself. Not without a good, or better than good, reason.

"I didn't think so." Saint rolled over to face Nick who was leaning on his elbow quietly watching us, the sheet draped across his hips making him resemble a Greek statue. "You say you do but you don't."

Ok, that was a dare, plain and simple. She thought I was afraid to meet her on her own silly terms. And if I didn't, she won and I lost. Well, two can play that game and if she thought I wouldn't take her up on it she'll find out how wrong she was. Almost angrily I kicked off my sandals and yanked my shirt over my head. Unzipping my pants I shimmied out of them and put my knee on the mattress.

"No clothes. None." Saint, eyes closed, had her head resting on her upper arm. She was drumming the fingers of her other hand on the mattress in the open expanse between her and Nick. Apparently she could see through Nick's eyes just as if they were her own. Or she was a good guesser.

Screw it. She was not going to beat me this way! My bra went on the same knob as Saint's, my C only slightly bigger than her B. Stepping out of my panties, I held them uncertainly for a second before wadding them and throwing them on the floor. On hands and knees I crawled in between them and rolled over on my back. Holding my arms out I invited them both to cuddle, silently daring them to make an excuse to not join me.

After a small hesitation Saint made the first move. Smoothly she slid her body next to mine to place her head on my shoulder, her forehead against the side of my neck as she draped her leg over mine. A half second later, Nick, still semi-clothed with the sheet, did the same on my other side, also resting his leg over mine. Their combined positions acted to pull my thighs apart as they both placed their arms across my stomach and ribs then relaxed.

"I love you." Nick rumbled in my ear.

Ok, I admit it, when Nick told me he loved me I almost panicked at what I'd impetuously just done. The anger and adrenaline were gone, leaving me feeling naked and exposed. With my arms trapped, and my legs pulled apart, I felt totally vulnerable to anything anyone wanted to do to me, even though we were just holding each other. Naked. In my stepson's bed. The three of us together. Naked.

"Don't be scared," Saint whispered. "I love you."

I cleared my throat. Despite my misgivings I was determined to see this through, whatever it was or turned out to be. We were at the end if I didn't. I had to give them something so that I could get Saint and Nick to also give me something. Maybe that way we could find some sort of middle ground understanding about each other.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" My voice had a tiny quaver in it but otherwise sounded normal.

Saint just shook her head on my shoulder.

"Ok, let me ask you something then: When you got lasered, did it hurt?"

Saint's hand moved down across my stomach to lightly pet me, making me twitch in surprise. She paid no attention to that, just illustrated what happened with a couple of swipes before pressing down with the backs of her closed fingers to imitate the laser gun head. Her movements were very clinical feeling and her voice just sounded matter of fact so I relaxed again.

"No. They had me use a razor then smeared me with a gel and zapped me. Zap! Zap! Zap!" She repositioned her knuckles. "Zap! Zap! Zap! It only took a couple of visits and one follow up a few months later. I got my underarms and legs done too. It was worth it."

"No burning?"

Saint shook her head. "Nicky was harder." A moment, then she giggled. I could imagine why.

"Do you like it?"

Saint nodded yes. "I feel clean. When I had hair I always thought I smelled bad even if I shaved it all off."

"What about after sex?"

Saint stiffened and stopped the lazy twirling of her fingers in my pubic hair.

"What do you want to know? Am I a virgin? Or do I have sex with Nicky?"

"Well, knowing if you're a virgin or not might help me understand you better."

"I still am. I haven't had sex with anybody. Not even Nicky. I told you that. I didn't lie about it."

She went back to twirling then raked her fingers through my hair before smoothing it down with her palm. She never went any further than that, just ruffling and smoothing my hair and leaving the rest alone. Not even an errant finger or touch. Just the petting. Which was bad enough, my body reacted to the stimulation making my mons swell. Saint paid no attention to the physical change, just kept idly petting my pubic mound while I tried to think of something else to talk about.

"What would someone think if they saw us right now? What would you tell them?" Her voice was casual sounding.

"I'd tell them the truth. We aren't doing anything except talking."

"And they wouldn't believe you, would they? No matter how many times you told them the truth."

I thought about that for a second. We weren't having sex. We were right on the edge of it but not actually doing anything. Still, it would look really bad if someone saw us. There was no way, not with my state of arousal and all three of us being naked, they'd believe us if we told them otherwise, but we really weren't doing anything except talking no matter what it looked like.

"Ok, I get it. I'm sorry."

A wordless rumble from Nick had Saint shift position slightly. I froze for a second but relaxed again as nothing else happened.

"So, Nick, are you still . . .?"

"Yes." Saint answered instead. "Ivy was kind of like me. She really wanted to have sex with both of us but her mom stopped it."

"Kind of like you?"

"I'm bi-sexual. I think I am anyway. I'm really attracted to girls like Nicky is. If we're out in public I can't help it, I watch them. I like the way they walk and smell and stuff like that. I want to make them happy. My girl half likes guys so I watch them too. They stare at us so we have to be careful."

"Oh?"

"It's hard for Nicky when they stare at us. He likes some of the guys I like but he can't show it or say anything. He has to masturbate a lot so he doesn't get excited when he sees someone he likes."

"Masturbate? And, um, are you here when he does?" Ok, this was getting into the minefield again. I needed to be very careful in not only what I asked but how I asked it. We were finally talking and I didn't need to blow it.

"Sometimes. I always know though."

"You always know? What do you mean?"

"I told you, he is me. We're the same person. When he has an orgasm I have one too, at the same time. I'm messy. Messier than Nicky is anyway. At least we can clean me up. We used to just use a towel but we read something once that said it tasted good. I wanted to know what it tasted like so I tried some. We like it. I share so we can have some too."

"So you, ahh, help Nick masturbate?" I tried to move the discussion along instead of trying to sort through the personal pronoun confusion.

Again Saint shook her head. "I can't touch him. He goes limp if I do. The same for me. If Nicky touches me I just, I don't know, stop being excited somehow."

"You just stop?"

"Well, that's what I do. It's different for Nicky. He gets really stiff you know. If I touch him, he just goes limp again. I can show you if you want. He's hard right now."

"He is?"

Involuntarily my voice squeaked as my awareness instantly transferred to where Nick's swollen male member rested against my hip. He wasn't pushing or thrusting or anything but my body was suddenly aware that I was pinned by both of them, naked and lying next to my fully aroused stepson. Oh my god! How did I miss that?

Saint nodded. "He can smell you." A moment before she went on. "I can too. You smell nice."

I started to stiffen, to roll, to sit up, anything.

"It's ok, don't be scared." Nick's voice was soft in my ear.

"Let me go. Now!"

Instantly their legs released mine as they both sat up on the edge of the bed, Nick's erection standing up from between his thighs as he turned his back.

"Liar!" Saint's accusation was an angry sounding snarl.

"Saint . . ." I was sitting against the headboard with my ankles crossed, arms around my knees.

"No, you lied!" She cut me off before I could explain. "You don't love me."

"I'm not going to cheat on your father and have sex with you and Nick to prove I love you."

"We aren't having sex! We're just talking. You're the one who got excited and made me hard. Even with that I still wasn't going to do anything." Saint nearly screamed at me.

"That's not what it felt like."

"You don't trust me. You think that because I'm naked I'm always screwing me. I'm NOT! You know I'm not. We weren't doing anything!" Without giving me a chance to respond she plowed on. "You tricked me! You lied to get me to tell you things just so you could use them to hurt me. Hurt Nicky. Do you know how that feels? To be used? To be told you're abnormal or sick? To have strangers calling the police about you and then be required to have psychiatric testing? To be interviewed by people asking how often we have sex, as if it's a proven fact, even though we don't? And now you try to tell me it's all my fault?"

Saint slapped the mattress with both hands in angry frustration. "You're my mom. You're the person I'm supposed to be able to talk to about sex and stuff. I don't know anything except what we see in movies or read in books. I don't even know what it's like to kiss somebody other than me. Everyone thinks I'm some kind of freak because of how close I am. They constantly talk about it and look at me like you thought Nicky was looking at you just now. They don't care what I want, they just want to use me to get off."

Shifting on the edge of the bed, she twisting to look at me over her shoulder. Her eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot.

"What I want, what I want, is to know what it's like to be a real person. A normal type person like you. Someone who is pretty and smart. Someone other people like. Someone who isn't always called a slut to my face. You could teach me what I don't know. What Nicky doesn't know. But, instead of helping me, you HURT ME! You said you love me but you don't. You think I have sex with Nicky. You think I'm a whore! Just like everyone else."

Saint's tears flowed down her cheeks as she sobbed and cried and choked out her need and desire to be thought normal. Nick walked around the bed, erection still stiffly pointing upward, his attention centered totally on Saint and apparently not caring that I could see his obvious arousal.

Gathering his twin in his arms he headed for the door, presumably intending to go to Saint's bedroom and leave me behind. The emotional pain radiating off the both of them overlaid the visual of seeing them naked and sexually ready but doing nothing about it. It wasn't that they were ignoring it, to them it wasn't there at all. After all these years of seeing each other at extremely close quarters in all situations, physical arousal wasn't something unusual enough to evoke any response. Especially given what Saint said about how touching each other when they were excited usually turned them off instantly. To know that they had to have experimented with each other. And, if they were to be believed, it went nowhere. I had no evidence to the contrary. In fact, everything I was seeing and hearing pointed to them telling the truth.

I'm pretty sure I knew what was really going on. They didn't have anyone else except each other to talk to. No one understood them. No one really knew how close they were inside and out so everyone kept away because they thought the twins' behavior too far off the norm.

To offset their loneliness Nick and Saint got even closer to each other. They had no friends or social peer group, they only had each other. So they held hands, kissed and cuddled, and slept in the same bed. From the outside it looked like it but this wasn't about them having sex with each other. Not at all. Unfortunately I hadn't listened when they'd tried to tell me what it was about.

What this was about, what it truly was all about, was Saint not knowing how to be a woman. No one had ever shown, or told, her how to be a woman and Nicky wasn't able to help her figure out the next steps. She'd asked me to teach her and I'd almost thrown it away. Because I had thought what she said I did. I was ashamed of myself. In my ignorance and misunderstanding I had lied to her. Lied to both of them.