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Subject: {ASSM} <*>  NEW STORY! 'Double Take' (MFgg variations, pre-teen, inc, cons) by Admiral Cartwright [1/2]
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'Double Take' (MFgg variations, pre-teen, inc, cons)
By Admiral Cartwright




Written by and copyright 1999 Admiral Cartwright, a pseudonym. It is
intended solely for the entertainment of its audience. Any publication,
reproduction, retransmission or other use of the descriptions and
accounts herein without the express written consent of Major League
Baseball is prohibited.

Unless, of course, you ask the author first (Email address provided
below).

Distribution of this material or of any predecessor(s) for profit
and/or with
this information abridged shall constitute a violation of copyright law
and may
result in some serious shit.

(Warning: the following explicitly depicts sexual activity which may be
frowned upon and/or illegal. Reading further constitutes your assertion
that you are mature enough to understand and accept the nature of the
material hereinafter, and the author assumes no responsibility for your
repressions.)

Archived at http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Cartwright/www




Author's note:

The following is based (very) loosely on 'Das doppelte Lottschen' by
Erich K stner with a playful nod to the filmed incarnations since. This
story, while paying homage to the above, is an all-new, fictional
treatment of the identical-twins-split-at-birth scenario and, in this
case, the development of their sex lives. It is in no way meant to be
representative of the actions, real or scripted, of any participant in
the original novelization or in at least three US motion pictures and
one German film since produced thereupon.













-- Part One


	Prologue

Sandi was looking into a mirror. She HAD to be! It was the only way she
could explain the face staring back at her.

The 12-year-old Texan thought she had seen everything - until now.
Sandra Farber also had thought she was the best AT everything until the
girl now wearing her face beat her decisively in the archery contest.

A long line of young ladies just about her own age had tried their hand
at the difficult sport, quickly narrowing the field to two; as she
walked up to stand behind her now sole opponent, Sandi took quick note
of the girl's hair: It's her! She's the one!

Sandi had spent what seemed like two whole days just walking up to
wherever as this girl was just leaving. All she ever saw was hair
remarkably like her own. Now, three feet from her face, she could see
it was exactly alike! A few inches longer, but otherwise the same.

Her opponent finished loading her bow and turned her face toward the
target. Sandi could see the girl's eyebrow and cheekbone; she tried
craning her neck to get a better look.

It would prove sufficiently distracting. Sandra Farber missed the
target altogether, and lost - for the first time in her life. Then the
victor turned to face her, and Sandi experienced another first: a loss
for words.

So, she and her mirror image just stood there... staring. Four eyes
wide; two jaws agape.

"Now, Sandra," came an adult voice nearby, but disembodied; so intent
was she on the deception burning through her eyes that nearly all else
was nonexistent. "Be a good sport, and shake hands," the now-distant
admonishment continued.

"B-but she cheated," Sandi blurted out, and immediately scrunched her
nose. The bald-faced lie was something she obviously could not back up
in front of literally dozens of witnesses. Nor could she back down.
Sandi was stuck with her words, and they to her.

"I beg your pardon," came the polished response of a highly insulted
pre-teenager. Sandi blinked, her eyes growing wide yet again.

It was day three at summer camp. The lush, impossibly picture-postcard-
perfect forests bordering Lake Superior were the perfect backdrop for
Camp Keweenaw, an exclusive warm-weather home of sorts for thousands of
girls from all over the continent. The six-week-long diversion even
attracted a few imports. Sandi already had heard the obviously British
accent, one she knew so well from old Benny Hill reruns and bad movies
further butchered on MST3K.

(Sandra Farber had a wicked sense of humor. Living next to herds of
cattle and spending every waking moment with the young sons of ranch
hands can do that to a girl.)

Now that accent had a face - and it was HER OWN!

Sarah Lotrice too was stunned; first, by the incredible resemblance
between the two, then by the accusation against her impeccable
character. "How dare you accuse me of cheating?"

"You-- you distracted me," Sandi retorted, trying vainly to use some
semblance of the truth to her advantage.

"I cannot see how I could possibly--"

"GIRLS!" The activities director no longer was amused by a seeming case
of sibling rivalry, more right even than she could know. The whispering
and giggling exhibited by the rest of her young charges was not helping
matters, either. "Shake hands!"

"Me? Shake hands?" Sandi repeated, feigning innocence. She turned back
to face her opponent, her expression suddenly cold. "I don't shake
hands with no outlaws, 'Robin Hood'," she drawled, playing her role to
its hilt.

Sandra Farber then turned on her heels, leaving her twin wearing the
same stunned expression she'd adopted when she'd turned around only
moments earlier.


	Chapter One
	'Thicker than Water'

Sarah lay in her bed in the cabin chosen for her by random drawing
earlier that week. The woodland ambience provided background harmony to
the melodious snoring of the other Iroquois; the tribal name this group
of girls would bear for the next six weeks.

Wonderful, she thought; I WOULD get the loudest cabinmates in the whole
bloody camp.

Unable to sleep, the 12-year-old Londoner finally considered relieving
herself. Masturbation was far too personal a thing to Sarah to risk
sharing inadvertently with anyone else, but the day's events had left
her uptight. Tonight, I need this, she reasoned.

Slowly raising her knees to make a small tent with her bedclothes,
Sarah moved her hand equally gingerly to her pubis. Remaining outside
the soft cotton of her knickers, she began the one diversion that most
betrayed the otherwise prim little lady everyone knew. Then again, no
one here truly knew her. Besides, she thought, I well might not be the
only one...

          *****

Four cabins away, Sandi too could not sleep, unlike her fellow Apaches.
That random choice had been all too appropriate for the girl from
Cypress, Texas. That, however, was not foremost in her young mind.

The pre-teen was a-jumble with all sorts of conflicting emotions. She
wanted to apologize to that girl with her eyes, her nose, her HAIR -
hell, her EVERYTHING - but she couldn't decide whether that would cause
her to lose face even more.

Woo yeah, THAT'S ironic, she thought.

Just then, the 'feeling' hit her.

          *****

Sarah's dainty fingers were painting a vertical line up and down her
still hairless sex, slowly traversing the entire length between her
young anus and the top of her mound; back and forth, over and over. The
familiar warmth was beginning to course through her very being, inching
ever so slowly to the precipice past which lay no return.

The otherwise perfect little lady now concentrated on the little button
that seemed to illuminate every nerve in her body, taking the long-
distance trip to the pleasure center in her brain. So good, she
thought. So good...

          *****

Sandi sat bolt upright in her bed, stifling the urge to gasp out loud.
She'd never before experienced the 'feeling' without her father
present. There was no explanation for it here: she'd seen the boys on
the ranch make sex play with each other, and wondered what another girl
might feel like with her; but the thought inspired no particular
emotion, it was just... there. Sandi's cabin, of course, was filled
only with other young girls, a few of whom she'd already made friends
with; none caused any feelings.

Slowly, her head found the pillow again and she thought maybe she'd
been dreaming. The 'feeling' had stopped, and she tried again to close
her eyes and wipe out the day. God a'mighty, let it end... let it go...

          *****

Bother, Sarah almost said aloud. The girl in the next bunk had turned
over noisily and she thought for a moment she'd been caught. The
loudest snoring of them all then proceeded to awaken yet more of the
group; some of the girls giggled playfully at the noise, while others
groaned loudly. Finally, after what seemed like forever, one camper got
up and gently pushed the offender to her side. Relative quiet
eventually returned as the girls drifted, one by one, back to sleep.

Now, Sarah relaxed again, resuming her ministrations. The little button
atop her slit pulsed, as if begging its master for attention like a
lovesick puppy. Sarah answered the silent beckoning, flicking her
finger again outside her prim cotton knickers, faster and faster.

She knew from her grandfather's books that playing with her 'clitoris'
led her to experience an 'orgasm', and she knew from experience that
they were more powerful after going without for a few days. This one
seemed to start from the sheets and fill her body slowly like a bottle,
until it reached the tips of her nipples, standing proudly atop b-cup
breasts big enough to make a few of the older girls jealous. Clamping
her teeth together hard, Sarah came even harder, trying harder still to
squelch the violent shaking her young body would experience each time
she went over the edge.

          *****

In her ragged dream, Sandi was swimming in the bay. The water suddenly
had become choppy and violent, lifting her higher and higher toward
some unseen peak. The cool bay was getting hot; the waves lapping
against her nakedness until one came crashing down hard...

Sandi awoke suddenly, clutching her legs tightly together as her whole
body was wracked by shakes. Quickly, the orgasming girl buried her head
under her pillow while she rode out the throes of her pleasure like an
unbroken horse. "Oh... my... GOD!!" she screamed into the mattress,
unheard by the sleeping pre-teens sharing her cabin. Waves and waves
swept over her, unabating, unforgiving, unprovoked!

As suddenly, it was over.

          *****

Sarah's head reeled from the unusual power of her orgasm. Her knickers
were soaked, but she knew if she tried to arise and retrieve a fresh
pair from her footlocker, the aroma of her sex would permeate the cabin.

I'll just have to get used to it for the night, she thought as she
rolled over and went straight into a sound sleep.

          *****

Hoh-lee shee-it!

Never before had Sandi come alone and with no apparent reason, and she
realized she actually was scared! Where the fuck did THAT come from,
she thought. Why here, why now? Hoo-wee, you are losin' it, girl!

No, no, get a grip, Sandi admonished herself. There's a reason for
this, there's gotta be; and, doggonit, I'm gonna find it.

It would not be a restful night.


	Chapter Two
	'Returning the Favor'

"Oh, damn," Sarah allowed herself the mild oath, an evil grin spreading
across her porcelain features. "You can't ever trust those
bloody 'outlaws', can you, now?"

Sandi coughed up a gulp of bay water and turned, nearly waist deep in
the murk. The giggling Brit skipped off, her twin's stare putting the
water's temperature to shame. Ya wanna play, huh? Sandi said to
herself, an unknown fate now sealed. Well, you just moseyed into the
wrong snake pit!

"That bee-otch!" said Ashley.

"Huh?" Sandi answered intelligently.

The Texan's cabinmate repeated, "Bee-otch. It's kinda like a nice way
to say 'bitch' without the 'rents knowing about it."

"Rents?" Now Sandi really felt dumb.

The perennial California blue-eyed blonde looked at the Texan like she
was from another planet. "Parents, you nutbar!" Ashley sighed.

"Well, sor-reeee," Sandi let the last syllable linger. "I guess I'm not
like up on 'Cali-flaky'," she added with a toothy grin.

"Oh, you're just tooooo cute," the Californian bristled playfully, the
victim yet again of the Texas girl's sharp tongue. "So, like, what are
we gonna do about your evil clone?"

"Dunno," drawled the response. "I'll thinka something."

Yeah, I'll get that - what was it again - bee-otch, all right. I'll
git 'er good!

That night, it was Sandi's turn to be horny. She missed her Pa's
tongue, and the gentle but insistent ministrations that brought her to
an explosive cum. It gave her an idea.

After lights out and after Sandi was sure her cabinmates were asleep,
she raised her knees and carefully peeled off her panties. Parting her
legs, she licked her finger until it was coated with her saliva and
moved it toward her pre-teen slit.

Gently at first, Sandi flicked her fingertip over the throbbing love-
button at the top of her young sex. It responded, sending a shiver
through her consciousness. Sliding downward, Sandi dipped a finger
gingerly into her honey pot, bringing even more moisture with it back
to the top of her hairless pussy. Her clit pulsed with wanton pleasure,
beginning the journey to orgasm.

          *****

"Mum's a doctor, actually," Sarah continued, her new friends hanging on
to every word. "Grandfather always said she didn't take well to working
with dead cows so she left his leather business years ago. He's retired
n--"

The Londoner stiffened, her eyes suddenly wide as saucers. "Ex-- excuse
me, I must... um, be... uh, use the lavatory, sorry!" she stuttered as
she stood quickly and ran outside her cabin.

"What's a lav-uh-tree?" asked one girl. "The bathroom," answered
another.

"Shit, I've NEVER had to go THAT bad."

          *****

Sandi plunged two digits now, as deep inside her pre-teen pussy as they
would go. The index finger of her other hand continued flicking across
the tiny, throbbing knob of flesh that seemed to extend to meet her
touch. Sandi gasped as her orgasm began, biting her lip to keep from
rousing the other girls snoring softly nearby.

The first wave slammed hard into her, sending Sandi convulsing into the
atmosphere, into orbit. The feeling seemed to carry her home to Texas;
the best turbulence a girl ever could want. Her eyelids squeezed
tightly, sending stars across her retinas. Eventually, she came down
from her natural, sexual high, totally spent. Whoo, what am I,
homesick? she asked herself before conscious thought left her.

Sandra Farber slept.

          *****

Sarah awoke to a faint nibbling at her nose. The squirrel jumped,
fleeing into the darkness. What the devil, she started the thought,
then managed to find the backlight to her watch. Four-thirty! My God, I
must be bloody gone!

Then she remembered: she'd experienced the unmistakable warmth of her
orgasm. But... why now?

The wet dream she'd experienced in the middle of many a night was
freaky enough; Sarah simply assumed it was an aftershock of sorts to
her evening masturbation. Now, she had to wonder.

The 12-year-old Brit slowly padded back inside the cabin and crawled
weakly into her bed.

Sarah, too, slept.


	Chapter Three
	'Let the Games Begin'

"She's always first in the shower. Every morning," said Ashley. "Every
time," added Marisa.

Sandi smiled at her Apache partners in crime. "She uses the same nozzle
every time, too?" "Yup, every time," came the answer. "But she didn't
look like she slept so good last night."

"Good," Sandi smirked, ignoring that last remark. "We got 'er!"

That night, the Texan and her two friends went to work. One already had
filled a balloon with water and put it in an ice chest. They'd found
some of the heavy cord used to hold up banners, and borrowed a large
safety pin. Tying the cord to the crank on the tiny window too high to
see through without a stool, the other was secured to the shower head.
There, they waited until just before dawn.

Marisa then closed the safety pin over the end of the balloon. The cord
already had been threaded through the small loop at the pin's other
end. Marisa slid the makeshift water bomb to Ashley on a stepstool, who
then pushed the balloon to the window. Both girls then scurried outside
to join Sandi, who stood on a chair stacked upon a table; hand through
the window, she held the balloon gingerly, waiting for Sarah's arrival.

She didn't have to wait long.

The prim Brit slid off her robe and stood before the shower, blinking
with the early-morning light, trying to adjust. At least she'd actually
spent the whole night in her bed this time. As she reached for the
nozzle, Sandi let the ice-cold balloon go, gravity quickly taking over.

An ear-piercing scream echoed off the nearby mountains.

          *****

"Did you see who was with her?" asked Kayla. 14 years old, the Iroquois-
for-the-summer stood head-and-shoulders above many of the other girls
and looked for all the world like she was ready to go kick some Apache
ass.

"No, I saw but a glimpse as they rounded a corner. SHE was the leader,
certainly," the Brit finished with obvious distaste.

"Then," the bigger girl reasoned, "we'll just HOFF to go get the whole
bloody cabin!"

Sarah winced slightly at the bad accent, but that quickly was hidden as
an evil grin spread across her beautiful young face.

          *****

Sandi never saw her 'clone' that day. She had to admit she was
surprised, more sure than ever that she would be in for some sort of
payback. But, it never happened. By nightfall, the Texan had begun to
relax.

A giggle-filled recap of the day's events, varying wildly from girl to
girl, finally died down as the 'Apaches' drifted off for the night.
Something about the usual easy camaraderie seemed a little off to
Sandi; something... outside... but she couldn't quite place it.
Besides, she was too tired to care much; sleep soon would envelop her,
too.

Thus, the wait was over for the silent Iroquois, and the work began.

          *****

Was it Reveille, or the rooster? Sandi wasn't sure what had awakened
her, but she was certain that a string didn't belong across her face.
Instinctively, she batted at the obstruction, unwittingly setting a
chain of events into motion.

A scream next to her brought Sandra upright, to see her closest
cabinmate suddenly dripping wet. Water balloons fell, one by one, onto
the other Apaches until everyone was soaked, save Sandi. The
realization that she, too, must be a target didn't hit her as fast as
did the largest balloon by far, the spray hitting the floor on either
side of her bed from at least a gallon of cold water.

(And not just ANY water; this had the unmistakable aroma of the lake,
mixed with animal scents that left the whole room smelling like a rural
dairy.)

Sandi's cabinmates looked at her knowingly; this was not meant so much
for them as for her, but she'd left them vulnerable, too. The 12-year-
old tomboy from Texas suddenly felt outnumbered like never before, and
out of her element. So did the Camp Director, walking in as if on cue.


     Chapter Four
     'Discovery'

The full impact of the girls' resemblance never was more apparent than
now, as they stood at attention, shoulders inches apart, facing the
camp's elders. "Such disgraceful conduct from sisters, of all people,"
said the Camp Director. Sandra Farber and Sarah Lotrice looked at each
other in obvious distaste, Sandi piping up first. "She ain't no sister
o' mine," she said.

The women suddenly looked like rebuffed English teachers, but held
their collective tongues. One finally responded, "They're not sisters.
Hard to believe, eh?"

"Hmpf," grunted the stateswoman. "They're about to get closer than
that," she offered. Standing with some effort, the elder woman slowly
circled the pre-pubescent girls as they tried for all the world to
stand perfectly still, as if the lack of motion somehow could stifle
the scrutiny.

"I've not stood for hanky-panky, not in 40 years at Camp Keweenaw," the
woman crowed with pride. "I'll give you a choice. The two of you are
going to spend the rest of camp together, and alone. Or," the option
lingered, "we're calling your parents to come get you.

"And, we keep the money they paid to send you here."

Oh, no, both girls thought as one. 'We told you you're still too
young'? No way they were going to listen to that. Yet, Sandi and Sarah
couldn't help but glance at each other in apprehension. A thought
seemed to pass between the girls. "We'd prefer to stay," Sarah offered.
Sandi nodded her agreement.

"You will," continued the Camp Director, "either learn to get along
with each other, or you'll punish yourselves far better than I could!"

Just wonderful, Sarah thought. Shee-it, echoed Sandi.

          *****

It took most of the day to move all but two bunks from the farthest
cabin to all the others, each taking on one more Comanche, or Sioux, or
Choctaw. The two lookalikes now were lone Tehachapi, not that it
mattered much. Sandi and Sarah were required to sleep and eat isolated
from the rest, but that didn't mean they had to spend every waking
moment together.

Determined to stay as far apart as possible, both girls were exhausted
from all the effort. Two nights later, when bedtime again arrived, they
retired almost as one.

Sarah was the first to awaken to a drive she'd not fulfilled for about
a week. She glanced nervously over to the cot on the other side of the
cabin and saw, to her relief, that Sandi was asleep. Slowly, so as to
avoid rousing her neighbor - the girl with her face - she raised both
knees until access to her pre-teen sex was easy, and silent. The 12-
year-old Brit began slowly to rub in the places she knew all too well.

          *****

Sandi, too, awoke to an unspoken desire. Her 'clone' seemed to be
sleeping soundly, and now seemed as good a time as any. Slowly moving
her hand south, her fingers found the button only beginning to pulse
with a need for relief not felt in days.

Spreading her legs slowly, slightly, almost soundlessly, Sandra Farber
began strumming the strings of her own sweet music, building to the
crescendo that is orgasm. Familiar, yet distant, only closer somehow,
the feelings welled up, stronger than ever.

          *****

It's not been THAT long, Sarah thought, as carnal knowledge seemed to
turn the page to the next lesson. The feelings expressed a whole new
urgency, building to an unforeseen peak. Stronger, faster, doubled and
more, the orgasm took over, slamming into the 12-year-old's very being
with shocking force.

          *****

God, all'a Texas'd be proud'a this, Sandi's mind screamed, as her
climax swept her off her bed and into oblivion, surprising the pre-teen
with the sheer violence of its peak. She heard herself scream; her, and
more. Back to Earth with a thud, Sandi sat straight up, staring into
her own eyes from across the room.

          *****

"You--" Sarah started. "You were... um, masturbating, weren't you?" the
Brit finished sheepishly. "Yeah, so...?" came Sandi's retort, not sure
whether she should be irritated.

"So was I."

"And...?"

"Didn't you feel it?" Sarah asked, nonplussed.

"Feel what?"

Now Sarah was edgy. "I've just had the most amazing orgasm of my entire
life, and you too were screaming bloody heaven, and you don't feel it?"

Sandi squinted; understanding, yet not. "You mean, like, we felt each
other cum, or something?"

"Perhaps both."

"Yuh huh," Sandi answered. "Like, how's that possible?"

"I'm not sure," Sarah lied.


     Chapter Five
     'The Truth'

"Tell me," began the Brit, "when did you start?"

"What, friggin' off?"

"Frig--? Um, I suppose you'd call it that."

"Couple'a years ago, I guess," Sandi answered slowly. "I used'ta come
home from school and see-- um, well, then I got a funny warm feeling,
and I started trying to make it go away at night."

"What time did you get home from school?" Sarah asked, trying to ignore
the discomfort her cabinmate suddenly was showing.

"'bout three."

Sarah did some quick calculations. "Texas, six hours from Greenwich...
nine my time... oh, my God! That's when I..." the thought trailed off.
She'd already known, but wasn't quite ready to accept it, until now.
Suddenly, a light turned on. "Did you mas-- uh, 'frig off', when you
went to bed?"

"Yeah."

"Shit, three a-m," Sarah allowed herself the oath. "I came again at
three a-m. Just when you... do you know what this means?"

"We, uh..." Realization hit Sandi, her eyes suddenly like saucers.
"Sssssarahhhh... is... I mean... do you... who's your Pa?"

"We've never met."

"Shit! And I ain't never seen my Ma. You don't guess..."

Sarah slowly got up, crossing the expanse of the barren cabin to sit at
the foot of Sandi's bunk. "How old are you?"

"Twelve," answered Sandi. "Just had my birthday not two months ago."

Tears pooled in Sarah's eyes, all doubt gone. "May 30th?"

"Oh, my God," Sandra cried. "We're... we're TWINS!"

The girls hugged hard, sobbing with joy.

          *****

"Grandfather used to have a business making leather, you know, wallets,
saddles, that sort of thing. Mother decided she'd rather work with
living people than with dead cows."

Sandi listened to her British twin with keen interest, understanding
dawning on her. "Of course," she said. "That's how Pa met 'er, what
with our ranch an' all. Pa sent me to camp 'cause'a how hard I've
worked to help him. And for bein' such a good-- uh, you know, worker,"
Sandi caught herself.

"I've never been out of London before. Mum is so protective, she barely
lets me from her view. She's a doctor, you know." "Really? Whoo-ee,
man, I'd love to..."

Sandra turned suddenly to her twin. "Hey, y'wanna meet Pa?"

"Of course, I'd love-- wait a moment, surely you're not suggesting..."

"Who's Shirley?"

Sarah rolled her eyes heavenward. Sandi burst out laughing.

"You bet I'm suggesting! We're twins, right? How're they t'know?"

"Oh, not a lot, other than that we're completely different."

Sandi smiled. "Y'ain't gonna wimp out on this one, are ya? C'mon, all
we gotta do is a little play-acting."

Sarah considered this for a moment. At worst, Mum and Dad would see
each other for a few minutes while the girls were handed back to the
proper parent. At best, maybe... just maybe...

"Y'all git ready to move 'em out," Sarah said in her best southern
drawl. Sandi laughed again... this was going to be too easy.

They had, after all, three weeks...


     Chapter Six
     'Appearances'

"You must be joking."

"Nuh uh. You want to fool the 'rents, don't'cha?"

"Rents?"

"Fergit it. If Ma and Pa are gonna believe we're each other, we gotta
know we can fool anybody, right?"

Sarah knew Sandi was right; she just didn't want to perform in front of
the whole bloody camp. "Must we? I've not even met your friends, and
you've yet to meet mine!"

It was Sandi's turn to roll her eyes. "That's why we hadda practice so
hard. For two weeks. Y'ain't foolin' anyone 'til you're ready, and
y'ain't ready 'til you believe you're Sandi Farber from Cypress, Texas."

"You'll not fool anyone speaking like that," Sarah replied, grinning.

"I believe you shall find I am quite ready for the challenge," Sandi
shot back, with dead-on British precision. "Are you?"

          *****

The girls compared notes each night for their final week at Camp
Keweenaw. The other girls occasionally caught misspoken words; the
elders didn't even notice. The last night of camp, Sarah felt like
celebrating. She surprised her Texan twin with a naughty
suggestion: "It's been so long since we mast-- uh, 'frigged off'," she
said. "Let's."

"Gawd, I thought you'd never ask! Can..." Sandi started,
blushing. "...um... I don't... I dunno what it looks like, can I watch?"

"I suppose I am rather curious. Shall we watch each other?"

The 12-year-old twins fell back on their beds, long since pushed
together. Facing opposite directions, each could get a clear view as
the other pulled off first her shorts, then her dainty panties until
her most private parts were exposed to the other. The girls watched,
fascinated, as each began the very different ministrations that
achieved the same end. Sandi licked a fingertip, then flicked it
quickly across her swollen clit until it throbbed with joy. Sarah
slowly moved a finger up and down her entire slit, an electricity
gradually building.

Sandra's finger found its way inside her love hole, bringing with it
the juices to lube further her young womanhood. Sarah's eyes grew wide
and she tried the same maneuver, unsuccessfully. I'll have to practice
that someday, she filed away in her memory. Still, her own sweet
sensations were building, and she continued the technique that served
her so well.

Sandi was drawn to her twin's pubes by something she couldn't describe.
Leaning over, her tongue barely made contact with Sarah's sex before
the Brit jumped, astonished. "Sandra Farber, what ARE you doing?"

"Aw, shit, I'm sorry," the Texan stammered. "I just wanted to try it,
is all. Please don't be mad!"

Sarah couldn't decide what was stronger: her distaste for her twin's
actions, or her love for the girl for caring enough to try. "All is
forgiven," she finally said with a smile. Grinning, Sandi went back to
work with a wet fingertip flicking her button and with two fingers from
her other hand plunging deep into her canal. This'll knock her 'bloody'
socks off, she thought.

It was her last memory before darkness overcame her.

Sarah and Sandi crossed the threshold into oblivion together, searing
heat smashing into their bodies from within, pounding relentlessly into
their very consciousness. Four eyes clamped shut, two mouths open in
silent screams, two cute 12-year-old butts lifted from their beds,
jerking in unison, yin and yang, coherence rushing out with unseen
winds, and back in again.

Then, it was over; ragged breathing the only evidence that the girls
still were of this world, all else gone, save the night.


     Chapter Seven
     'In With the New'

The cool lake breeze betrayed the usual August warmth, and both girls,
naked from the waist down, awoke to chills. "Gawd a'mighty, you look
like hell," Sandi said to her bleary-eyed neighbor. "Oh, thanks," came
the sarcasm. "I believe I feel the way you look."

Sandra got up on legs that argued vehemently, and stumbled to the
mirror. "Shee-it," she moaned, "mebbe we oughta take it a bit easier
when we do that." "Oh, I don't know," Sarah answered with as wry a grin
as she could muster, "I think it was worth it."

Sandi smiled a knowing smile at her twin. They truly were identical in
appearance; Sarah's hair already cut to Sandi's length, both now matted
and unkempt. Both had identical circles under their eyes. They would
have laughed, if that wouldn't have hurt so much.

          *****

Sarah and Sandi got off the bus together at the small airfield from
which each girl would be shuttled to larger airports for the main leg
of their respective trips home. After a few last-minute instructions --
and a hug neither wanted to end -- they were on their separate flights.

Sarah-as-Sandra landed at Intercontinental Airport first. She'd taken
the opportunity aboard her flight to study Sandi's picture of their
father, Matt. Matthew Farber was still a young man at 33, but weathered
somewhat from his hard work over the years to ensure the success of
Farber Farms. Matt always wanted better than a tiny cattle ranch that
did little more than supply restaurants around Cypress, so he worked
every aspect of the herds he could: from beef to milk, from leather to
furniture, from cat food to dog food. It took several years for Farber
to hire, one at a time, the help it took to even consider taking time
out for himself and his daughter.

Now he and Sandi were closer than ever, though he still wasn't sure
exactly how it started. She'd been desperate one afternoon for release,
feeling a warmth between her legs that she was too frustrated to
describe. Oh, sure, he was just as much at fault, too, for his failure
to say no. Today, however, he had no regrets. No regrets at all.

That was especially true when he saw his daughter walk into the
terminal at Intercontinental, looking for all the world like a lost
puppy. Sarah's eyes brightened when she finally spotted her father for
the first time. A big, toothy grin spread across her porcelain face;
her eyes began to water uncontrollably. Frozen in time for only a
moment, but seeming an eternity, Sarah finally dropped her carry-on bag
and ran full speed into her father, almost knocking the both of them
down.

"Whoa, beautiful, I'm happy to see you too. I sure missed ya every
moment o' those six weeks!"

"I've missed YOU my whole l--" Sarah started, then caught
herself. "Missed ya too, Pa!" she finished, tears flowing freely down
her cheeks.

"Whassa matter, li'l filly?"

Sarah-as-Sandra almost told her father the truth right there. "I-- I
s'pose it was kinda long, huh?"

"You don't have to go back next year if'n ya don't want to," Matt said,
genuine concern furrowing an already weathered-beyond-his-years brow.

I'm happy Mum sent me to THIS one, Sarah thought. "I dunno, we'll see
next year. It WAS kinda fun!" she said.

"What'cha say we head to the ranch?" Matt walked over to Sandi's bag,
then put an arm around his daughter. Sarah had to resist the urge to
stiffen as her father's hand brushed across her young breast.

Perhaps it was an accident, she thought.

          *****

Heathrow certainly was intimidating to a young girl, and Sandi-as-Sarah
was no different. Mostly business travelers and tourists were here, and
quite a lot of them at that. Sandi had no picture of Sarah's butler,
who no doubt was waiting patiently by the exit.

"Sarah?" called a voice next to her. "Where are you going?" Sandi
started, then looked up and into the face of her grandfather. At least,
Sarah had brought a picture of him, thank God.

"Granddad? Oh m'god, sorry. I-- I was expecting..."

The momentary loss of her accent slipped by Michael Lotrice. "Colin?
No, I talked your mother into coming to fetch you myself.

"Ready to go home?"

More'n ya'll ever know, Sandi thought. "I'm ready."

The pair shared a hug, and off they went.

          *****

Matt pulled up to the ranch house, and he and 'Sandi' unloaded the
truck, carrying her luggage inside. "Gawd, Sandi, I missed you so much
I thought I was gonna burst."

You have no idea, Sarah thought. They ran back into a bear hug, and
Matt kissed his daughter passionately. Sarah broke off,
stunned. "What..." she started, then thought better of it. "What's
wrong?" Matt asked.

"Um, nothin'... ya just s'prised me is all."

"Hm, mebbe six weeks wasn't such a good idea," Matt mumbled, shaking
his head, a wry grin on his face. He grabbed his daughter's bags, and
left for her room. Sarah stood, jaw agape, wondering if Sandi and their
dad always kissed this way, or if he was just REAL happy she was back.

Not that it was bad, mind you, she mused. I might just try that again.
Dad IS
awfully handsome. At least he's not licking my...

          *****

Sandi's hand trembled as she reached for the front door. "Well, go on,
your mother's waiting for you," Michael admonished.

Well, here goes, she thought. The door clicked open almost by itself,
and Sandi-as-Sarah padded slowly inside the foyer, more nervous than
she could ever remember. Granddad smiled, kissed the top of her head,
and turned toward the study. Just at that moment, Karen Lotrice turned
another corner, coming face to face with a daughter she hadn't seen in
more than eleven years.

Not that she could tell.

"Sarah! You're home!" "Oh, my-- MUM!" Sandi couldn't help herself,
losing all sense of decorum as she ran into her mother's arms, sobbing
uncontrollably, the flood gates that were her tear ducts open to full
blast. "Finally!" she added, under her breath.

"I've missed you, too, darling. Perhaps six weeks is a bit too long,
after all."

"No, no, I'm alright," Sandi quickly tried to regain her composure,
wiping her reddened eyes. "It... it just seemed like I would never-- I
mean, like camp would never end."

"Did you not like it?" Karen asked, concerned. "Oh, no, Mum, I loved
it. Met a nice girl there, too. Well, not at first, she-- well, never
mind. I'm just so glad to see you!" Sandi finished, the tears welling
up again.

They hugged, hard.


     Chapter Eight
     'Sarah's Surprise'

"Damn you, Sandra Farber, why didn't you tell me?"

Sandi hesitated. It was day three so far of her life as Sarah Lotrice
and, as uneventful as things were in general, she'd been so busy doing
things with her mother that she scarcely thought of the goings-on back
home. Now, the real Sarah was demanding to know the truth.

"I-- I'm sorry," Sandi finally whispered back to the voice on the other
end of the telephone.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sarah repeated. "How long have you and our
father been... been...?"

"Aw, shee-it. What happened?"

Sarah began to summarize the past two days.

          *****

The first night had gone smoothly enough, all things considered. After
dinner, Matt and 'Sandi' had left the kitchen a mess and cuddled in
front of the TV, watching the Astros' game. Matt's hand was all over
his daughter, running his fingers through her hair, rubbing her neck,
eventually finding her growing young breast. Sarah again had to resist
the urge to stiffen up or to move his hand from her personal place. She
relaxed, and had to admit it actually felt pretty good. Her breathing
quickened; a warmness washed over her, starting in her crotch.

Sarah felt a stirring in her father's pants as well, and she knew from
her reading that he was becoming aroused. That made her nervous again;
how far will he go? she'd wondered. Matt then slid his hand down
Sarah's belly (not as taut as he remembered; too much camp food,
perhaps?) to her hidden treasure.

"Da--" Sarah caught herself. "Don't, Pa!" "S'matter, li'l filly?"

Thinking fast, Sarah-as-Sandra answered, "Um... I just got home, silly.
There's lots'a time."

Matt looked at her funny, then went back to massaging her immature, but
beautiful, breasts.

In her room later, mulling over the evening's events, Sarah had jumped
at the sound of her father's voice. "Ain't'cha comin' to bed?"

Damn, she thought. I'm not ready for this. "Uh... I need a little time
to get used to bein' back home, is all. You hold your horses. I'll
let'cha know."

Matthew Farber looked again at his daughter like she'd lost her mind.
Resigned, he'd slept alone that night.

Sarah didn't sleep much at all.

The next day was spent shopping and generally hanging out together.
Matt hadn't tried anything, but his impatience had begun to show. That
night, when 'Sandi' begged off again, Matt lost it. "What the hell's
got into you, anyway? Hell, YOU started this. Don't tell me you wanna
stop, 'cause you've been enjoying ridin' me as much as I am. Dammit,
what's wrong?"

Sarah almost told Matt the truth then and there. "I'm... I'm just on my
monthly time, and I guess I'm just in a mood, is all."

"Your 'monthly time'?" Matt repeated. "Where'd you go, to camp, or
college?"

Sarah's lips turned up in a nervous smile, not knowing how to answer.

"We've always been together even when you're OTR, right? When was the
last time you slept in your own bed, anyway?"

OTR? She'd have to think about that one. "A while, I guess," answering
the question. "A while, you guess? Damn straight," her father said, his
frustration showing.

"I'm sorry," Sarah-as-Sandra said, meaning every word. "I'll... I'll be
there in a minute," she finished, bringing a softer look and even a
slight smile from Matt. "I've... uh, got to use the toilet first."

That funny look crossed Matt's features again. The toilet?

Good lord, Sarah said to herself moments later when a trip to her
sister's bathroom revealed only tampons. Damn, I've never even put a
finger in there yet, much less father's penis. How am I going to pull
this off? Or, well, push this in, I suppose, she finished wryly.

Lubing the applicator with her saliva, Sarah leaned over the edge of
the toilet as she'd seen her mum do, and began a gentle, even pressure.
It didn't hurt as much as she'd expected, and she actually had pushed
the tampon in a few inches when a sharp pain hit. Sarah cursed herself
for forgetting her hymen.

"Shit, what do I do now?" She looked around the bathroom for any ideas,
and sunk back down to the toilet when she saw nothing. "Damn, all I
need is a string, really..."

Sarah almost slapped herself, it was so simple. She retrieved the
scissors she'd seen in the drawer moments ago, and snipped the string
from the tampon, flushing the rest down. Wetting her finger with her
spit, she felt a moment's naughtiness and slipped only the digit
inside, sliding in and out, probing her inner regions. The new feeling
WAS wonderful, after all, and she wet a second finger. The pair went in
with a bit more difficulty, but little pain. A girl actually could get
into this, she thought. But, it was time for other matters, and Sarah
put a knot into one end of the string, hoping that would be enough, and
slipped it inside.

Cuddled with her father moments later, she let Matt slide his hands all
over her near-naked body, only her knickers away from her birthday
suit. He looked thoughtfully into her eyes, relishing her closeness
without being overtly sexual for perhaps their first time. "Is there
somethin' you're not telling me?"

Sarah almost jumped, a guilty look greeting her 'Pa'. A million things
went through her mind in that instant; she almost said something about
six weeks away giving her time to think, and perhaps they should stop
for awhile, but something she couldn't quite describe choked off the
words. On the other hand, what else would be believable?

"Pa," she started hesitantly, "You know how I get sometimes when
I'm..." Just then, the meaning of OTR hit her, right on cue. Thank you,
she thought to no one in particular. "...on the rag," she finished. As
if to appease him, she continued: "It's almost over. I'm sure I'll be
myself faster'n a goat at suppertime."

The improvisation worked. Matt smiled, and leaned in to kiss his 12-
year-old daughter, softly at first, then with a bit more passion. Sarah-
as-Sandra let him this time, and was surprised to realize she actually
was responding. Her dad's tongue slipped into her open mouth, and she
didn't even flinch, returning his French kiss instead with all the
passion she could muster. Not that she had to look very far.

This isn't so bad, Sarah thought, as Matt slowly worked his wet kisses
down her neck, to her shoulder, to a breast that was slightly larger
than he remembered. Geez, what six weeks won't do, he thought.

Sarah's thoughts were nearly overwhelmed by the flood of incredible
sensations to her brain, straight from her dad's mouth and tongue on
her young tit. Oh, God, this is amazing, she thought. Her back arched
even farther when Matt reached the other breast, her hands finding the
back of his head.

Soft, wet kisses down her belly followed. Matt wasn't imagining things;
his daughter wasn't as lean as she used to be. "I guess that camp
food's pretty good, huh?" "Mmm," came the response. Matthew Farber
smiled.

Kissing and licking a line to his young daughter's treasure, Sarah
forgot for the moment all about her little ruse, until her father began
peeling off her panties. "Dad, no!" Oops. Damn, she thought, father's
bound to guess my secret now.

Caught up in his lust for the most beautiful creature on the planet, at
least in her father's eyes, Matthew missed the parental reference.
Sarah barely skipped a beat. "I'm not quite ready yet, okay?"

"Don't worry, I'm not stickin' anything anywhere," he said with a lewd
grin. "Except my tongue." Matt dove in, concentrating on the little
bump at the top of her slit, and avoiding the area anywhere near the
string hanging obscenely from her little hole. Sarah's come slammed
into her in seconds, never having felt anything like that before.
Panting uncontrollably, she couldn't move while her father continued a
much slower beat with his tongue, letting her afterglow linger. My God,
Sarah thought. Now I know why Sandi wanted to try that...

Matt scooted up on the bed and rolled onto his back. "Your turn," he
said. Oh, no, surely he can't mean-- God, I've never done that before,
Sarah thought. He'll know something's wrong.

At that moment, an idea hit her. Mentally patting herself on the back
for her improvisational skills, Sarah rolled between her father's legs
and took his raging prick into her hand. Exploring it as if it was her
first time (after all, it WAS), Sarah-as-Sandra made puppy-dog eyes at
her father and said, in her best little-girl voice, "But, daddy, I
don't know how. Will you show me?"

Matt shook his head and chuckled. Okay, I'll play your little game, he
thought. "First, stroke it up and down with your hand. Go slow." Sarah
complied, thrilling in spite of herself at the first feel of a hard
penis in her hand. "Like this?" "Yeah, li'l filly, you got it. Now,
lick my balls with your tongue."

Sarah shuddered. Oh, quit complaining, she admonished herself. You got
yourself into this. Sarah licked at the wrinkled, hairy skin and found
it wasn't so bad. "Oh, yeah," Matt moaned. "Now, lick up my cock to the
top." Sarah dragged her tongue along the underside, stopping when she
reached the spongy head.

"Like that?" "Good, baby, but do it again slow-like, and flick your
tongue up and down real quick." Sarah tried again, enjoying the feel of
her father's seven-inch meat. Once back at the head, she swirled her
tongue around it, getting the feel of what she thought she was supposed
to do. "Now, suck it," Matt commanded.

Sarah-as-Sandra skipped a beat, then went back into her little-girl
act. "Suck it? How do I do that?" she asked, all innocence.

"Like a lollipop."

Sarah let the head of her own father's prick slide between her lips,
still not fully comprehending what she was doing. "Good," Matt
continued the game, "now use your tongue while sliding that big cock in
and out of that sweet mouth."

"Oh, you want me to suck your cock, huh?" Sarah repeated the nasty tone
of her father's voice, a sly grin on her face. "Yeah, suck my cock,
li'l filly."

Sandi's identical twin slid almost half her dad's penis into her mouth,
using her tongue to lather her lubricating spit around Matt's flesh
pole. "Faster," he rasped. "Go deeper."

Sarah tried to take more into her mouth, but she gagged as the hot head
bumped against her throat. "Sorry," she coughed. "Out'a practice, I
guess." "Take it a little deeper at a time, c'mon, you remember."
Oops. "Oh, sorry, I screwed up your little game. I won't forget any
more."

Neither will I, Sarah thought, not quite disgusted. Although I suppose
my time had come, I'd rather have done this at my own leisure.

She resumed her ministrations on her father's cock, taking a little
more in her mouth with each stroke, until she actually felt it slip a
little into her throat. Fighting off the urge to gag, she kept at it,
until her dad's admittedly beautiful cock disappeared, his pubic hair
tickling her nose.

"Oh, fuck, attagirl. God damn, you're so good to me!" Sarah smiled; or,
as much as she could with a dick in her mouth.

It took only a few more deep strokes before Matt announced, "I'm
cumming! Shit, here it comes, baby girl!" Vaguely aware of her
grandfather's books, Sarah knew he was going to shoot some semen out of
the end of his penis, but instinctively wondered if she'd choke on it.

She had no idea that Matt hadn't taken matters into his own hands for
six weeks.

Thinking quickly, Sarah kept only the head of Matt's cock in her mouth
and jacked it with her hands. The hot, thick liquid almost burned the
inside of her mouth as jet after jet of his hot seed filled it up
completely. Sarah swallowed quickly, and more came. She swallowed again
and then a third time, wincing at the taste, until it was all gone.
Matt relaxed back onto the bed, and a warmth in Sarah built up again.
Not knowing what else to do, she began a gentle sucking on her father's
softening cock while slipping a finger inside herself. It wasn't long
before she came again, reality washing away with the sheer force of her
orgasm. Her father had to pull her back up onto her pillow.

"God, I love you so much, baby," Matt said, gently kissing his 12-year-
old sex fiend goodnight, cuddling in preamble to sleep. Sarah was out
already.

          *****

"That was last night."



-- End of Part One

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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