It was one of those rare Saturdays when Terry didn't mind being rousted out of bed at dawn. The farm was more of a hobby for his parents and, truth be told, he didn't have to do a whole lot. But on weekend mornings when all his friends were sleeping in he was in the barn helping with the milking, gathering eggs. And usually he rebelled against even this minor intrustion into his life, but today he fairly lept from his bed. Because once he'd finished his chores the day was his. And days like this only came along every couple of months or so.
After breakfast he went to his room, opened his computer, checked the video feed. It was off center. All he could see was a bit of wall and a couple of slats. Squirrels, probably. He went up into the attic, uncovered the camera, and aimed it. That helped. Terry could see most of the back yard, he could see the pool and the patio. But no twins.
The twins were the Gunter twins, Greta and Bets. They were one year ahead of him at school ... and they had a rep. Word was they liked college boys.
They would be alone today with strict orders to stick around and no visitors were allowed. He knew this because his mother had told him. Might have been a warning of sorts. At least he took it that way.
Mr. Gunter was a vet and every few weeks he and his wife would make a tour of the neighboring counties checking on the farm critters. It was a holiday of sorts, a working holiday, but it got them out of the house and gave them a chance to catch up with friends.
And the twins would be alone all weekend. And Terry would pay them a visit. Well, he would hide by the barn and watch them sunbathe or slip behind a bush and peep in a window. Outdoors they wore matching white bikinis, inside it was always t-shirts and panties. They had a routine of sorts. Mornings they'd lay by the pool, afternoons they'd crash inside.
Sure enough, at about ten they came outside. He couldn't see them all that well given the size of the field that separated their houses, but there was no mistaking them - the blonde hair, the meager suits covering ample curves. It was good enough. Good enough to jerk off to.
Terry stepped out the back door. The truck was gone. That was good. His parents would be at the farmer's market and there would be little chance of him getting caught.
He walked along the road, casually, or at least as casually as he could with his heart pounding. He passed the Gunter house. The parents were gone, the girls were out back. No one would see him. He turned down a dirt track that was separated from the house by trees and thick, tall bushes. He caught the occasional glimpse of a twin through the leaves. The racing of his heart kicked up a notch.
He worked his way behind the small barn, ducked under a low eave, and crept around some old, rusted equipment. He had found this spot about six months ago, visited it three times and it felt very comfortable, very safe.
There was a middling size above ground pool and a couple of lounge chairs nearby. Back of the house was a shaded patio with a picnic table. But where were the twins?
He found out soon enough when Greta (or Bets) surfaced, pushed her wet, blonde hair back and climbed out of the pool.
She jiggled - everywhere. Not that she was fat. She had big tits a slim waist, full, mature hips and as she moved, well, so did everything else.
Fuckable. Very fuckable.
Not that Terry knew anything about fucking, other than what he'd seen on-line. The closest he'd ever gotten was with Mary Beth at the Halloween party last year. Someone has spiked the punch (surprise) and the dancing slowed and the groping began and he had gotten to second base, but then Jason's father came downstairs, saw what was going on, and that put the kibosh on that. Still he'd gotten his hand on Mary Beth's tit, her bare tit, and the memory was seared into his brain.
Bets (or Greta) grabbed a towel and rubbed her hair. She made a slow circle, giving Terry an unobstructed view, head to toe, front to back. She had a kind of piggy face, puffy cheeks, pug nose that Terry found both cute and slutty. Again, not that he had much experience there either.
Her nipples poked at her suit top and bits of blonde fur peeked out from the small triangle between her legs.
He pulled out his cell, took a picture.
"Well well. Lookey here."
Terry whirled.
"Hey, Bets! We have company!"
Shit!
"Listen ... I, uh ... I-"
"You were what? Peeping? Taking pictures?"
"No, I-"
"Come on."
Terry stood, frozen.
"Terry, yes I know who you are, come on."
He ducked under the eave, stepped out into the sun. Bets took a step toward them.
"Is that Terry? Terry from next door?"
"I would say that's a safe bet."
"So you were right."
"Well, yeah. I mean, it figures. Mom and dad out of town and Terry here sneaks over, takes pictures."
"He takes pictures?"
'Mm hm. Terry, give me your cell."
Terry hesitated.
"Now, Terry. It won't take me but a minute to call the sherriff."
Terry handed over his phone.
"Here. Here, you see?"
"Lousy shot."
"Hey. He's a perv not a photographer."
"Shit. You know, Terry, all you had to do was knock. We're not supposed to have company, but if you had just shown up, well ..."
"Here. Let me get a shot. Terry put your arm around her. Oh come on! At least try to look like you enjoy it. Nah. This isn't working. Oh! I know. Get undressed. No, not you, sis. God. You are so fucking easy. No, Terry, you get undressed."
"What?! No. Listen. I mean..."
"One word, Terry: sheriff."
Terry pulled off his t-shirt.
"Jeans, Terry. Come on. We're burning daylight here."
Terry kicked off his trainers, undid his jeans, hoping against hope that this was a joke, that they'd say April fool. But it wasn't and they didn't. He pulled off his jeans.
"Ooh! Is that a penis in there or are you glad to see me?"
"That's not how it goes."
"I know how it goes and I know where it goes. Come on Terry, almost there."
With flushed cheeks and shaking hands, Terry peeled off his briefs.
"Ooh. Nice little penis."
"You know you're not supposed to say little."
"Oh? Oh. I didn't mean little as in small."
"And do you have to always be the doctor's daughter? Penis?"
"Mama taught us to use the biological names. Besides, what should I say? Cock?"
"Pecker?"
"How about prick?"
"Uh uh, not a prick. Pecker. Definitely pecker."
"Terry and the pecker. Isn't that a comic strip."
"Pirates. Terry and the pirates."
"Oh. Do pirates have peckers?"
"No. I'm pretty sure they have pricks."
The girls went off on a squeal of laughter.
"Oh, sorry, Terry. You still there? We, uh, we go off on these tangents. Sorry."
"Terry here is a tan gent, shall we go off on him?"
"Is everything a joke to you?"
"You know what I always say: The world is my straight man."
"Mm. Well, he seems pretty straight to me.
"Okay. Okay. Let's just get the picture."
"Okay. Good. Yeah. That's a keeper. Okay. Now go down on him. Nice. Now just hold his ... what did we decide on?"
"Pecker."
"Hold his pecker and give me a nice big smile. Good. Having fun Terry? No? Gee. That's too bad. Any guy would kill to be in your shoes right now."
"He's not wearing shoes."
"Okay. Stop will you? Just stop."
"Hey. Let me get a selfie of the three of us."
Both girls squatted and gave Terry's "pecker" a kiss.
"Let's see. Well, you can't see his face, but that's his pecker alright."
"Oh, and Terry, you understand that when we're through I'm going to wipe your phone. It's called plausible denial. I mean, God forbid someone should start spreading rumors about us."
"So now what?"
"Dunno. I feel like the dog."
"Dog?"
"Yeah. You know the one that chases cars and you have to wonder what it would do if it caught one."
Bets gathered up Terry's clothes, Greta put her arm around his waist and guided him across the yard.
"Ice cream shop?"
"Nah. It's more fun with two guys."
"Ice cream shop is a game we play, Terry. You know the story. A kid gets a job at an ice cream shop and he's in heaven for a while, but pretty soon he's sick of ice cream."
"We do that with sex. We'd suck you and fuck you and the first couple of times it would be fun."
"But four hours later, mm, not so much."
"Kegels?"
"Mm. Now that has possibilities."
"Yeah, and it has the added advantage that we get to punish Terry here for snooping."
"Ooh. Good point. You see, Terry, we need something that will be fun for us, but not so much fun for you. Kegels are exercises women do to strengthen the muscles in vaginas."
"Pussies."
"Pussies. They have this thing, this device. Kind a shaft that you stick in there and then you squeeze down on it. I think it's kind of an isometric exercise."
"You can also try to put heavy things in there and keep them from slipping out."
"Yeah. It's kind of a game we play. Who can put the heaviest thing in there and keep it in the longest?"
"We've tried just about everything that'll fit."
"And a few things that wouldn't."
"Yeah. The flashlight was a challenge."
"But the batteries fit."
Greta chuckled.
"One day we each had a D cell in there all day - even during gym!"
"From now on we stick with Ben Wa balls."
"Fer sure. There's something for you, Terry. During study hall we put in our Ben Wa balls and read porn."
"And we always have them in for the bus ride home."
"Bumpety bump and if feels really good and nobody knows. Well, now you do."
"Or maybe we're just messing with you."
"Speaking of messing."
Bets opened the door to the storage shed, stepped inside, and emerged with an assortment of rope. She closed the door and snicked the lock.
"We have a key for this, right? I mean, his clothes are in there."
"Oh I'm sure. Well, pretty sure. I think."
"Come on, Terry, exercise time. Give me your hands."
Totally resigned and beyond hope, Terry held out his hands. Greta tied his wrists. She patted the picnic table.
"Come on. Up."
Terry climbed up on to the table.
"Okay. Turn around and lie down. Slide your butt down here. Watch out for splinters."
Terry positioned himself. Greta tied his wrists to the table frame. She tied his ankles to the other end.
"Not too wide, but not too close."
"Yeah."
Even lying in the shade, Terry sweated. It could have been the heat. It could have been being naked with his dick throbbing at half mast. It could have been the girls getting naked and crawling all over him. Could have been all of that.
"Who goes first?"
They threw for it.
"Rock."
They threw again.
"Rock."
Again.
"Rock. Okay, this is getting silly."
"Hey, sister, we're twins, we think alike."
"Yeah."
"Paper."
Again.
"Rock breaks scissors. Good. You first."
Bets knelt on the bench. She grabbed Terry's dick and stroked it.
"Okay. First I need to be wet ... very wet."
"You're always wet."
"No. I think Terry, here, is gonna get me wetter."
Bets climbed up onto the table. She straddled Terry's face.
"Do you know how to eat pussy, Terry?"
"No offense, but I'm thinking no."
"Yeah. Well just lick it, okay? And see this," she said pointing to her clit. "This an especially nice place to lick."
"Easy with the tug job. We don't want him getting off."
"Why not? We get him off, get him hard again, and play some more."
"Because we're supposed to be punishing him for peeping, remember?"
"Oh yeah. Sorry, Terry. Big sister is right."
She spread her knees and settled herself on Terry's face.
"Lick, Terry. That's the whole point of this exercise."
After a minute or so, Bets pushed herself off. She changed positions, aimed Terry's dick between her legs, and slowly lowered herself.
"Mm. Nice little, er, nice pecker. Nice pecker. Good pecker."
Greta leaned on the table.
"How's that feel? Nice? That's good, but you see, Terry, that's about all you're gonna get. You may feel the urge to come, but I'm pretty sure my baby sister can, er, keep things in check. We're both pretty good at that. Meanwhile, I'll see if I can keep you entertained."
Greta climbed onto the table and squatted, knees wide, by Terry's face, thrust her pussy forward.
"You just ate pussy, but have you ever seen one up close and personal? Hm? See? This called the vulva and these are the labia majora and labia minora. And this up here is the clitoris. And right here, that's the urethra. And, of course, down here is the vagina. Would you like me to pee on you?"
Terry shot her a look.
"Lots of guys like that. Some just like to watch. Why don't you just watch for now."
Greta leaned back and peed on the table. It puddled on a board next to Terry's face, but ran down between the cracks before reaching him.
"How was that, huh? Now you know what happens in the ladies room. Not too interesting, huh?"
Bets made grunting sounds, little purring sounds, a small gasp. She eased off Terry's dick.
"Mm, nice. Your turn."
Greta straddled Terry's face and settled in.
"You know, you didn't pee on him, but he's still, well..."
"No different than sucking a guy who's just peed. Goes with the territory."
"Yeah."
***
Terry's dick, still hard, rubbed painfully in his jeans. The twins hadn't let him have his underwear, so it bulged down his left leg. But they had, as promised, wiped his phone, but not before taking several more pictures of them "exercising" and copying them to Greta's PC. He walked, half limped home, was happy to see the truck still gone. At least he wouldn't have to hide the bulge in his pants.
In his room he jerked off. It didn't take much jerking. And then he remembered the video. No, the quality was terrible, but useable even at the distance. He wouldn't recognize them or himself, but it was clear enough. Maybe he could enhance it some. He was sure there was an app for that.
He popped open the PC, keyed in the time. He watched himself sneak under the eave, saw Bets climb out of the pool. Watched as the scene flashed by and went dark.
"What the ...?!"
Terry stared at the screen. Once the camera adjusted for the light all he could see were the roof beams and pink fiberglass padding.
"Fucking squirrels."
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28.05.16