Incest is best, sister sex is better.
I remember my first sister sex experience. It was in high school. And the first time was not with my sister, it was with two of my classmates: the Von Stein twins.
Everyone at school thought they were weird because of how close they were, whispered behind their backs. I thought twins were supposed to have a special connection. Everyone was jealous, I figured — and they were both so gorgeous. Identical, alluring mirrors reflecting each other’s beauty.
There was definitely something dark about them. Other people found that off-putting (really intimidating, I imagine), but I found it very appealing. It was sometime before the summer of our senior year that I ran into them walking along the street in town.
I said hello and they both stared back, their gaze(s) deep, mesmerizing. Lena smiled slyly as her sister, Tricia, invited me over to their place later that night. Apparently, we lived within walking distance of each other. I enthusiastically accepted their offer, of course.
As that excited “yes” slipped from my lips, I knew that I was accepting an offer for something much more than an innocuous teenage girl slumber party.
To get to their house, I had to walk up a dusty dirt road. It was eerie, but I wasn’t afraid. I could sense them waiting for me, and I could sense that something I really wanted to happen was just a few minutes, a few hundred feet away.
I did not realize it was going to be my initiation into sister sex — the favorite pastime of the twins for as long as they could remember. Eventually, I saw the silhouettes of two slender figured in the dark, their shadows beckoning me.
“We are glad you are here.”
(AKA YOUR SUPREME GODDESS)