David Crane - Turned on twins

Tony Langford was one of the few people who could tell the Anderson twins apart. Tony had worked for the Andersons as their chauffeur for several months and, after a week or so, he had discovered the secret that allowed him to differentiate between the two twins. To the uneducated eye, it was nearly impossible to tell Chastity from Charity Anderson the teenage girls had identical faces and equally superb bodies. They had long blonde hair, big blue eyes and wide, sensual mouths. Both had pert, thrusting tits and taut asses shaped like inverted valentines and long legs that seemed destined to be hooked happily around a man's humping loins as he plowed into their juicy snatches. They were both trim and lithe and nubile. Their voices had the same husky timbre and the same expressions flashed across their mobile features when they spoke.

Tony had discovered two ways to tell them apart.

Charity had a tiny birthmark on her neck, usually hidden by the cascade of her golden hair but visible when she tossed her head or had her hair tied back.

That was one way.

The second way was more subtle. If one of the twins happened to be sucking on his cock, it was a pretty fair bet that it was Charity.

Chastity was a virgin, determined to save her precious cherry for her wedding night.

Charity was a nymphomaniac.

Tony often pondered the illusive matter of their names. Not a man given to much speculation, he nevertheless wondered if Chastity were living up to her name by remaining chaste, while Charity was giving pussy away liberally to any man who needed some. She was the despair of her family, naughty little Charity, giving out cunt with both hands, while her virgin sister was the pride of her mother and father.

Tony was not a moral fellow, but even he had been shocked by Charity's bold and brazen nature. He had only had the chauffeuring job for a week before he found the girl going down on his dick.

He had been driving her to the tennis club. "Pull over for a moment, Tony," she said. Dutiful and obedient and needing the job badly, being a gambling man constantly in debt Tony had drawn off to the side of the road as she requested. Charity eyed him coolly and speculatively.

"I'm Charity," she said.

"Yes, Miss."

"It's important that you learn to tell my sister and me apart, Tony. We're quite different."

"You certainly look the same."

"I know. But a mistake could be disastrous."

"Miss?" he asked, not knowing what she meant.

"Because, although we look alike, we have different ideas on how a girl should behave."

Tony didn't see what that had to do with him. He would, after all, merely drive them around.

"Chastity is a prude," she said.

Tony blushed.

"You're a very good-looking guy, Tony," Charity said, gazing at his crisp, curly black hair and the firm line of his lean jaw and then, slowly, letting her eyes move down his body.

"Unlike my sister, I like men," she went on. Tony squirmed uncomfortably. He was a potent man and when a girl talked to him that way, and looked at him like that, he usually got a hard-on. He was afraid he might get a hard-on right then, and that would not be seemly for a chauffeur. He really needed to keep this job until he could settle his gambling debts, for his bookmaker was threatening to have his legs broken if he didn't pay up. If his dick started to rise, it was obvious that Charity would notice it because she was staring right at his crotch.

"Understand?" she said, smiling.

Tony was, starting to sweat.

"You'll be late for your tennis lessons," he said.

"Screw the tennis lessons," she said brightly. "I'm more interested in getting a service from you than I am from the tennis pro whom I've already had."

Tony gulped.

Sure enough, his pecker started to rise.

Charity giggled when she saw the effect her behavior was having on the chauffeur.

His cock had been stretched down along his thigh and as it hardened and fattened it pressed up a great bulge in his trousers. Trapped down the pantleg, it was unable to lift to the normal angle of a rampant prick and, instead, struggled as if trying to burst the seams and tear the material of his pants and surge up festooned by shreds of cloth.

"Oh interesting," the nymph whispered.

Tony figured he had better get out of that situation before he made a mistake. He put the car into gear, but Charity reached down and placed her hand on his writhing prick, moving along the stalk as if it, too, were a shifting lever and she were putting his loins into high gear.

Tony froze.

Fiery waves of desire sped from his cock and balls and filled his belly; his mind erupted with lusty passion. He tried to tell himself that he must not risk losing his job but then he found himself rationalizing. This lewd daughter of the family intended to have him, no doubt of that, and if he resisted her he might alienate her, and that might possibly be a graver danger to his employment than if he allowed her to have her way with him.

He took the car back out of gear, his hand trembling as he moved the lever.

His cock was trembling, too.

He turned the ignition off.

Charity smiled happily. Then she opened his fly.

The lusty little nymphette was in no hurry. Although she was obviously starving for dick, she did not rush to attain it, enjoying the thrill of the expectation and the slow, lingering build-up.

She unbuckled his belt and drew the end free. Her hand stroked the belt for a moment, as if she were using it to get her wrist limbered up for the cock stroking hi store. Then she unbuttoned the button atop his fly and began to pull his zipper up and down teasingly. She drew it halfway down, then pulled it back up, staring all the while at the writhing outline of his pecker as it raged along his thigh.

Inch by inch, she opened his pants. She spread the flaps back in a triangle, exposing his lean belly at the tops of his thighs. He wore nylon briefs and his big cock was stretching the nylon out from his belly. Charity slid her fingers under the elastic band and pulled the briefs out from his belly.

Freed from restraint, his prick came up from his leg, stirring sluggishly at first, and then snapping up along his belly. The knob slapped against his trim torso.

Charity tugged down the briefs and tucked the elastic band underneath his swollen balls so that, the whole of his formidable sex tackle was bared.

"Oh, my!" she cried. She was impressed and showed it. For a moment she didn't touch him, simply gazing in fascination at his huge prick and bloated scrotum.

Tony's dong was sizable and shapely. His balls were swollen like over inflated balloons and pressed up by the elastic band fitted beneath them. From those bloated balls rose a shaft as hard as stone and as thick as the girl's delicate forearm. The shaft was seamed by a fat dark vein that ran up the ventral stalk, pulsing and throbbing, and then blended out into a delta as it merged with his knob. The great, bivalved peckerhead flared out from the rod, a bulging wad of purple meat that made the girl's mouth water.

"Oh, that looks awfully tasty," she murmured, in her rich girl's modulated accents.

Tony was rapidly losing his shyness and reluctance. She might be the boss' daughter, but she was also a sexy young blonde who had just taken his prick out.

"Be my guest," he rasped.

He hiked his hips up, lifting his iron-hard dong.

"Would you mind if I sucked it for a while?" she asked, with a smile that implied the question was rhetorical.

"Not at all," he said.

She still hadn't touched his naked dick. Now she cupped one hand over his balls and lifted that heavy sac as if she were weighing it, trying to gauge the magnitude of the creamy load that was lurking inside that hairy bag.