More Stories to Make You Blush (17 page)

My surrender only increased Louis's ardor. Seizing my pelvis with both hands, he pounded into me hard until I was sure I was going to explode. I welcomed his onslaught with greedy lust, my body threatening once more to succumb. I came again, a few seconds before Louis climaxed in one last wild jolt, filling me to the brim (just as I had hoped)—and I knew how important this detail was. I felt the weight of his body gently crushing me. I pulled him against me, pushing back against his warm belly, and melting into a huge sense of well-being. My entire body was still shaking with pleasure, but my head was heavy with a wonderful fatigue. I didn't make the slightest move to stop him when he got up, kissed my hair, and told me he absolutely had to go. He quickly pulled on his clothes, kissed me again, and disappeared.

I remained this way for some time, not wanting to disturb the sweet torpor that filled my body. Finally, my legs trembling, I pulled myself to my feet and picked up my clothes, shivering with pleasure at the thought of a warm bath. At that moment I spotted something lying on the floor, almost hidden under the sofa. I bent over to pick it up and saw it was a wallet, Louis's wallet, I supposed. I was about to put it on the little table by the door when I saw that some cards and papers had fallen out. I leaned over to look at them and something caught my attention: a health-care card. The photo on the card wasn't very flattering (those photos never are). But it wasn't this detail that made me jump. Under the photo, instead of the “Louis Benson” that I'd expected to see, it read “Dan Benson.” His brother? His twin brother?! I fell back heavily onto the sofa, dazed. Louis had never mentioned a
twin
brother! A brother, yes; I thought of the message on the answering machine: “Hi, you've reached Louis and Dan.”

“No! That was Louis who just left,” I told myself. “I would have known if it wasn't him!”

But would I have, really?

The phone interrupted my thoughts. I answered almost in a whisper, trying not to betray how upset I was. It was Louis. He had been delayed downtown and had just picked up his messages. Could he come over later? I told him I'd be waiting, and swallowed the lump in my throat, thinking of the enormity of the situation. More upset than ever, I started running a bath, which would no doubt do me a world of good, stubbornly refusing to think until I was submerged in hot water and fragrant bubbles.

Once in the bath I allowed myself a few moments' reflection. Strangely enough, I had no feelings of embarrassment, shame, or betrayal about what had just happened. If Dan was really Louis's twin brother, and if it was he who had just made love to me so well, what was the problem? Louis would never have to find out! The only problem lay in the fact that I was apparently incapable of telling them apart. But the more I thought about it, the more I told myself how lucky I was. Two for the price of one! What woman would dream of complaining? And if Louis ever learned what happened, how would he react? Had this ever happened with another woman? Was this some kind of game the brothers indulged in for kicks? If that was the case the situation became more disturbing. However, instinct told me that Louis knew nothing about it—and it wasn't going to be me who let the cat out of the bag! I would simply have to find some way of telling them apart. Louis was the one I liked best. Maybe if I'd met Dan first I'd have gotten hooked on him instead! But the most important thing was not to do anything to hurt Louis. If I played my cards right everything would work out fine. When he came over later I wouldn't say anything about his brother's surprise visit. Not a word! But how to tell if it was really him? I would ask him precise questions on things we'd done together. But what if it wasn't the first time this kind of substitution had happened? Oh, it was all too complicated! Still, one twin or the other, it was all the same to me as long as I achieved my goal. And this evening, I would have an even better chance of doing so!

The image of the two brothers came back into my mind, bringing with it a very pleasant fantasy. I let myself slide deeper into the tub and explored this new vision. I was lying on my bed, longing for Louis. The daydream turned into the present moment. He arrived, got slowly undressed, and kissed me. His naked body on mine made me shiver. Almost totally passive I let his lips brush tenderly over my throat, my breasts, belly, and legs. His tongue teased the opening of my willing pussy, and it was then that Dan appeared. He got undressed too and kissed my mouth, while Louis multiplied his caresses below, way down. Hands—I don't know whose—kneaded my breasts, lips sucked them with ardor, while other hands and lips skillfully worked between my open thighs. A member forced my mouth open and pushed its way back towards my throat, while another entered me brutally, spreading my thighs even wider apart. The rhythm of the two members was the same, but alternating. Then one of the men fell onto his back—I don't know which one— and I went to his hard cock and took it into my greedy mouth, while another man shoved into me from behind. Who was it, Louis or Dan? Had they changed roles, or was it the same man I'd sucked into my body so passionately before? I didn't care. The bodies started moving again and I was on my knees, on the floor, one erect member in front of my face, another thrusting into my body. Hands seized my breasts, others my hair, my butt—how many hands? How many majestic hard cocks were doing me this honor? Finally the man behind me let himself come, followed seconds later by his brother, imprisoned between my lips. The liquid gushed over my mouth, throat, sex, thighs. And I came, floating in my now lukewarm bath, my hands buried between my legs.

* * *

When Louis arrived later that evening I waited a little before starting with the questions I wanted so badly to ask. I was content to repeat the same movements as a few hours before, letting my skimpy garment slide to the floor, waiting for him to drag me onto the sofa. But he chose the bedroom instead. I had a hard time concentrating on the present, because my new fantasy kept coming back to haunt me. Would I one day have the experience that made me wet with desire just thinking about it? Who knows—maybe, if I played my cards right. My ardor was genuine beneath Louis' caresses (but was it really him?), and I came once again. He took me from the front, from behind, on my knees, standing … delaying his own orgasm to give me pleasure as long as possible. But I was exhausted. I tried to hurry him up, while taking full advantage of the delicious sensations he was giving me, and finally he came inside me. I happily collapsed into his arms.

I waited a few moments before starting my interrogation. His breathing was getting slower and deeper. I didn't want him to go to sleep, so I fired away with my first question.

“Are you ever going to introduce me to your brother?” “My brother? Why?”

“I've left two pretty suggestive messages on your answering machine. I'd like to meet him soon, or he might get the wrong idea about me.”

“Well, maybe some day.”

“How old is he?”

“Just a few minutes older than me. We're twins.”

“Really? Do you look alike?”

“We're identical, except for a few minor details.”

“Now I really want to meet him!”

I adopted a teasing tone, in case it was a touchy subject. But he just laughed and asked me:

“Why, aren't I enough for you?”

“Oh, yes, I think you'll do! But tell me, what are these ‘minor details'? Hair, moustache, something like that?”

“No. As a matter of fact we've always liked to have the same haircut and to look as much alike as possible. But his eyes are a bit lighter than mine, and he has a scar on his forehead, just at the hairline. He got it a few years ago.”

“You're kidding; those are the only differences?”

“People who know us well say we don't have the same look. They say he looks a bit tougher than me. But I can't tell if it's true or not. As for meeting him, maybe you will. But my past girlfriends were disturbed by how much we looked alike. And besides, I found you first!”

I changed the subject, convinced he had no idea I knew his brother already. From now on I would just have to look at their foreheads!

* * *

I saw Louis several times in the next week, making sure it was him when he arrived at my place. It had become a sort of joke, the way he brushed his hair off his forehead before he came in so I could see if there was a scar. I didn't see Dan again, but simply returned his wallet anonymously by mail. Louis had to go out of town on business, so we spent a few wonderful days at his house in the Laurentians, basking in the sweet odor of burning wood and watching the snow fall outside. I didn't ask again about his brother, waiting for Louis to bring him up first.

However, the image of two identical men making love to me kept coming back to haunt me. The fantasy got stronger and stronger until I couldn't spend an evening with Louis without expecting to see his lookalike appear at any minute. I was so obsessed with the idea that it took me three days to realize that my period was late. Was it possible, at long last? I was overjoyed that I'd finally succeeded in giving myself the gift I'd been dreaming about for so long. Still, I waited a few more days before getting confirmation.

When I was almost ten days overdue I went to the drugstore to get a pregnancy test kit. I feverishly read the instructions and got down to my task. Two minutes later the verdict came in loud and clear—I was pregnant! I dove to the phone and made the first possible appointment with my doctor. He confirmed the news a few days later. I was ecstatic! Oh, sure, there'd be a bit of nausea from time to time, but that was nothing compared to the joy I felt. Louis was coming back soon, and I still didn't know how to tell him. Obviously, I couldn't hide it forever. And I'd decided to tell him that he was free to get involved with the child or not, as he wished. If he wanted to play father, so much the better, but I wouldn't force him.

The main thing that worried me was that the child's father could very well be Dan. If that were the case, I could not tell Louis. How could I? Nonetheless, I was dying of curiosity. Was it Louis or Dan? Obviously, I'd never know.

I went to get Louis at the airport. When he saw me he realized there was something different about me. My resolution to wait before telling him the happy news dissolved in a flash. I told him he was going to be a father in a few months. Before he could react I insisted I had no expectations; he was free to act as he wished. His face broke into a huge smile and he assured me he would be there as much as I wanted, that he would spend as much time as he could with the child. Everything was turning out for the best!

But this was not the end of it. My infidelity with his brother, though totally unpremeditated, worried me to no end. I felt I had done something terribly wrong, but at the same time realized this “wrong” may have made me pregnant at last. When Louis finally decided to introduce me to his brother, and his brother learned the news, would he realize it might possibly involve him? Probably not. But I still couldn't help asking myself what consequences his visit might have had.

In the following weeks I was in a state of constant anxiety. Louis put my nervousness down to my pregnancy, and I did nothing to let him know what the real reason was. The day of my ultrasound I was convinced I'd get a sign as to who the real father was. But what sign could there be? I didn't have the slightest idea, and I knew I was being totally irrational. Still, I was convinced. Maybe I'd see something during the test that would resolve the mystery. Or maybe I'd know by intuition, at the moment I least expected, who the father was.

The waiting room was packed. I was wringing my hands with nervousness, thinking of names I liked, boys' and girls' names all mixed together. When my turn came I was a wreck, barely able to get myself to the room where I'd been told to go. I lay down on the table, waiting for the technician to smear gel on my stomach, then apply the instrument that would allow me to see my baby. I looked at the device anxiously. The technician asked me, before she began, if I wanted to know the sex of my child. I nodded vigorously and she went ahead. A big smile appeared on her face.

“Ms. Lainey,” she said, “you've got twins! A little boy … and a little girl! Congratulations!”

 

Marie Gray is a young author from Quebec and a true believer in the beauty of life: Every instant, each feeling, and every flavor should be savored in all its intensity, especially passion.

After winning our hearts with
Stories to Make You Blush,
she is back with
More Stories to Make You Blush,
her brilliant second collection of erotic short stories that will take us, beyond the shadow of a doubt, through the gateways of erotic pleasure and delight.

More Stories to Make You Blush
is a new tribute to sensuality, and—above all—an affectionate wink at the wonderful world of pleasure.