Double Trouble (1)

this is verrah dark. One might even call it…perverted. But gosh, I *had* to write it. Had to. ~n~

His eyes widened when she…when they…walked into the bar. Brunettes always caught his eye, but twins? His cock twitched, because what guy hadn’t had his share of fantasies about twins.

And they were…freaks.

They had one body. Two arms. Two legs, two big-assed tits.

And two fucking heads.

He had looked, then poked himself. Yeah. One girl. Two heads. Did that make them one person? Or two? He had seen something about this on youtube a long time ago, they were called Siamese twins. Yeah.

This, this was a freaking fantasy come to life.

He made his way across the bar to where the young women stood. He resisted the urge to buy them a ‘double’, sliding the bill across the bar to the bartender.

“Give them whatever they want to drink, Ed,” he said. Two heads turned to look at him. Four pair of deep brown eyes.

“Thanks.” The voice was smooth and sexy, flirtatious.

“Thanks but I don’t take drinks from strangers.” Firm, no-nonsense.

“I do.” Twin on the left said with a smile. She ordered a fuzzy navel.  And a “Sex on the Beach” for her sister.

“You’re too fucking uptight, Thea. Relax, drink your drink and let’s have some fun for a change.”

“Fun in a bar with strangers? Where is the fun in that, Sin? Where?” She turned to look at her sister.  “You know I didn’t want to come in here…”

“Relax,” he interjected, laying a calming hand on the uptight twins side. “I’m not up to anything. I’m curious, yeah. I’d be fucking lying if I didn’t say that, right? I’ll bet that you’d freaking hate that. Fake people coming up to you. I just want some conversation from a pair of very lovely girls. What happens…or doesn’t happen…is up to you two.”

He was proud of that little speech…and really…it was the truth. He was a fucking dog, to be sure. He had a hard-on that was banging on the backside of his fly like a fucking toothache. Fuck one twin, willingly there, while the other was deeply against it? Geezuz, what guy didn’t have that kind of sick fantasy now and again?

“So, do you fuck around a lot?”

“Sin! For God’s sake!”

The twin, Sin, stuck her tongue out at her sister, Thea, then peered around her to look at him. Oh shit. His cock was oozing pre-cum already.

“Uh…define “a lot”, ” he said, dodging the question with a laugh.

“Well…would you fuck me? Even if Ms. Tight-panties here objects?”

He blinked. Never, ever, in his wildest fucking fantasies had he imagined something like this.

He moved around them, closer to the side where Sin was, draping his hand around her waist and cupping her ass.

“Get your hand OFF my ass,” Thea hissed. He smiled, sliding it down to the other cheek. Sin smiled up at him.

“mmmmm, that’s nice. So, would you? Could you? She can be pretty fucking dour.”

“You seem mighty desperate to get laid, little lady,” he said, looking down into the pool of liquid brown fire in her eyes. He swore he could feel a drop of precum sliding down the side of his bunched shaft, cobbled as it was by his tight jeans. He took her hand, laid it atop his shaft through his pants.

Her eyes widened, her mouth forming a small “O” of  surprise. The sound came out as a low moan.

“Sin, for God’s sake, would you stop?” There was a bit of a lurch, as Thea tried to push away from the bar. Sin wrapped her arm around him, angling her side of their shared body against his.

“Fuck me, please?” she whispered into his ear. He heard the need. The desperation.

He kissed the side of her neck, sucking her earlobe into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the outer whorls of her ear, as his left hand found her breast, squeezing that round orb of flesh. She moaned, leaning harder into him.

Thea’s eyes opened wide. She was obviously feeling just as much as her twin was.

“My place isn’t far.” He spoke softly into Sin’s ear.

“Exit, stage wrong,” whispered Thea, as they turned, holding his hand and left the bar.

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Fuck You!

He slapped her across the tits, hard.

“Fuck, fuck YOU, you fucking bastard.” Her voice was a low growl, coming from the tangled depths of her hair. It covered her face, one eye glaring from the knots and damp tresses.

He slapped her again. She whimpered. Turning, he walked to the low table where dozens of thing had been laid out with care. She hated him. Hated him.

He tapped her nipple 5, 6, 7, 15, 18 times. Tap tap tap, each blow a bit harder than the last, a bit stingier. The lexan cane. The thin one that hurt like fuck-all when he slashed it, and wasn’t that much more comfortable when he did this. Her nipple began throbbing, then screaming.

She bore down, took it. Refused to give him the satisfaction of uttering that scream aloud.

“Oh OH FUCK YOU!” she yelped as he hit the other nipple hard, once.

Her head fell forward, her arms twisted above her head, secured to the heavy hook over the door. Her left knee was bent, the foot tied to the other knee, so that she stood on one foot.

In 6 inch stiletto’s.

Her toes throbbed, and went numb, woke and throbbed some more. He turned away, back to the table. She hung there, sweating, panting through the pain.

There was a hummmmmmmmmm.

“No, you fucking whoremaster…Noooooo” the words died as moaning became the only sound she could make. The hitachi was pressed against her pussy, as his fingers dug and explored her hole.

“You’re so fucking wet, you cunt.” He hissed into her ear. “You hate me, you say, but your fuck-hole is dripping. Cum. CUM you fucking dirty slut, you cum all over the floor…

There was a sound, a spatter, as she felt her mind sail out into the ether, as her body convulsed in a powerful orgasm.

“I fucking love Him” she thought softly to herself.