A/N: The idea for this story came from a conversation with a follower on Twitter. Her twin brothers are Marines stationed overseas. This is for Neal and Nolan with a million thank yous.
One by Two NC-17
The heat and sun and cloudless sky are ganging up on me, making it impossible to concentrate on the final revisions of the manuscript I am working on. I'd been lured to the patio this morning by blue skies, taking my coffee mug and The Devil's Lair, the soon-to-be NYT bestseller, outside to work. At mid-morning, the heat has me changing into a halter top and Daisy Dukes instead of the sensible blouse and capris I'd put on this morning. Lunchtime has me grabbing my sunglasses and sunscreen while calling the local deli for a turkey club and large sweet tea. I want nothing more than to toss the manuscript aside, strip down to nothing and jump in the cool, blue water of my pool, but I won't. I plod on. The final edits are due tomorrow, and if I stop now, I'll resent having to pick it up later to finish. The result will either be a half-assed ending or twice as many redlines than are needed, and neither is acceptable. The story is a classic bodice ripper - a naive, but feisty heroine, a strong but silent hero who's been wrongly accused (presumably by his evil, identical twin) and together, through a series of missteps, misunderstandings and explicit sex, they find their way to a happy ending. It is funny, poignant and incredibly arousing.
With only 75 pages left, I still can't decide whether I'm more attracted to the good twin or the evil twin. The evil twin is all bad-boy, the risk taker, sweet-talker and smart. The hero is funny, sharp and sexy. He knows his way around the bedroom. And music room. And, God help me, the stable, as well. The up-against-the-stall sex scene in Chapter Thirty-two is rivaled only by the bent-over-the-piano-bench scene in Chapter Twenty-six. The author is a colleague and friend. She was also my first client when I'd decided to start my own company, designed at making manuscripts ready for submission to publishing houses. What started out as a part-time job has grown into a full-time one, and I've Gina to thank.
Finally, I shut my Notebook. It's late-afternoon, and I'm hot, tired and aroused. Without a second thought, I'm out of my chair and striding towards the pool, stripping as I go. I shuck off the denim shorts right before I dive in, and the cold water wraps around me like a lover's arms, encompassing and complete. I stay under for a while, relieved to feel my hot skin caressed by the soft motion of the water. Two minutes later, I pull myself out, gather my cast-off clothes and head inside for a shower and nap. As I step onto the cool, dark kitchen, I pause, wondering if I'm hungry enough to start dinner. If I wake up late, I can fix a salad or make an omelet.
One quick shower later, I pad across the thick French-vanilla colored carpet in my bedroom and climb onto my bed, pausing just long enough to pull back the thick duvet. The room is cold; the central air had been set to high all day so now I can climb under the covers and snuggle down for a nap.
The music is loud, and the drums and base thump in my chest as I move between the two men on the crowded dance floor. They are mirror images, from the thick, broad shoulders that block others from getting too close, to the strong hands that pull me close and narrow hips that pin me to the other. They even smell the same - warm and male. I feel safe and protected between them, yet they are dangerous men. I see the way men eye them up, wondering, judging, then back off. And the women are thrusting their tits and ass their way, trying to entice them. But my men don't so much as a cast a glance their way; their attention is on me, and it is as overwhelming as it us enthralling. And then we are alone, everyone has melted away and we are left with just the lights turned low and the music surrounding us.
As we dance, one mouth finds my mouth while the other presses hot kisses against my neck, licking and biting my skin as he makes his way to my shoulder. My sleeveless dress offers little resistance, and the thin straps slip off as the hungry mouth moves lower. The kisses are intoxicating, heady. We want more contact, more skin. A set of hands from behind lifts me into the arms of the other. I am wedged between two hard, muscular chests; propped up, held close. I wrap my legs around low hips, locking my heels, and as I do, the head of a thick cock nudges my clit as it slides between my wet folds. My breath hitches, and I hold on tight. Another hard cock presses against the small of my back before slipping into my cunt, hot and clenching. Then one cock replaces the other, and I am filled. I gasp as it slides further and further inside, bumping my cervix. I shriek, tightening my arms around a corded neck. He doesn't move for several heartbeats, giving me time to adjust before lifting me slowly up and down, rubbing just the right spot deep inside me. I lean back and rest my head on the a wide shoulder behind me.
Just as his cock thrusts deeply, I feel the other pressing against my bottom, and my pulse raises. I want these men to fill me, consume me. I lose myself in the waves of hot desire rolling over me. When the second cock slides past the tight muscle and presses deep, I cry out. They continue moving, thrusting faster and harder, and spiraling hot pleasure explodes.
The room spins, and the colors and lights and music becoming a kaleidoscope of sensations. When it stops, I'm lying on a lounge chair beside my pool, smiling as I watch them. Their tattoos are colored patches on bronze skin. They are huge, more like Vikings than Marines, and I want to devour every inch of them. Their real strength is not found in their massive physique, but in their resolve to shoulder great responsibility, both for the men they protect and the nation they defend. I would protect these two from themselves, if I were able.
They walk towards me, and while I know they would protect me with their lives, it doesn't mean I'm safe from them. My body is their playground, and they play like they work – hard. But then, their bodies are my mine to do with what I will, as well. Teasingly, I move my hands across my body, showing them where I want their hands and fingers and tongues, and they watch, hungrily. They are identical in every way, save one. One shows his moods with his mouth; a smug grin, a grimace, a hard line. With the other, it is his eyes, bright and clear when happy, dark and small when he is not. Now, as my hands tease my nipples and clit, green eyes turn the color of a storm-tossed sea - dark, dangerous, and a mouth lifts into a small, suggestive smirk. I bite my lip suggestively while my pulse races; I know they will mark me and make me scream.
They lean over me, blocking the sun. One mouth replaces my hand on my breast, while the other pushes my fingers away from my cunt. The overwhelming sensations of twin mouths and hands are my undoing, and I twist and turn on the lounge, my body convulsing as as my orgasm overtakes me, sending shots of electricity outward, making my toes curl and eyes squeeze shut.
Hands stroke me slowly, languidly, calming my racing heart. Then moments later, gentle nips and licks coax me to respond once more. Hands gently position me on the lounge chair, and a velvety-hard cock slips inside my wet pussy. My walls clench around him, causing a harsh breath to escape his lips, and his hands tighten on my thighs as he pushes my legs further up and apart. A hand strokes my cheek, pushing back my hair while an equally hard cock brushes my lips, coaxing me to part my lips. I eagerly wrap my hand around him, licking and kissing up and down the hot skin before taking him in my mouth, sucking gently, slowly taking more and more down my throat.
They start slowly, rhythmically, but soon, their hard cocks thrust and push over and over; I can only hold on as I'm am overwhelmed with whirling sensations. The pleasure builds and swells until it is crashing over me, blocking out all else, and I shatter. They find their release soon after, showering my pussy and face with their hot mess, marking me as their own.
I awake slowly, my heart pounding in my chest. My hand is between my legs, still covering my throbbing pussy. My legs are weak and shaking, and despite to coolness of the room, I am covered in a fine sheen of sweat. As I lay there, trying to slow my breathing I'm tempted to reach for the new toys I'd ordered from www.studentlingerie.com but decide I'll save playtime for later, after dinner. I've discovered I've an appetite, after all.
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