The summer house in the Hamptons sat right on the dunes, white cedar shingles still warm from the day’s sun. Desiree Vale stood barefoot on the wide back deck in a tiny white sundress that barely covered the tops of her thighs, watching the last of their friends spill out of cars and Uber vans. Music already thumped from the speakers Colt had set up. Coolers of beer and seltzer lined the railing. Someone had brought a bottle of expensive tequila.
Colt came up behind her, close enough that she felt the heat of his chest. They were twins—same dark hair, same sharp green eyes, same tall, lean frames—but where Desiree was soft and curved, Colt was all hard muscle and quiet intensity. He was wearing only board shorts. The outline of his cock was impossible to ignore even soft. Everyone always stared. Desiree had spent years pretending she didn’t.
“You ready for this?” he asked, voice low.
She nodded, heart already beating too fast. “Let’s get everyone drunk enough that no one remembers who kissed who.”
By ten the party was in full swing. Twenty college friends, half of them already half-naked from the pool, sprawled across the living room and deck. Someone suggested spin the bottle. The old classic. A big empty wine bottle was placed in the center of the circle on the rug. Desiree sat cross-legged, the sundress riding high on her thighs. Colt sat directly across from her.
The bottle spun. It landed on two girls who kissed with theatrical moans. Another spin—two guys, a quick peck and laughter. Then it was Desiree’s turn. She spun hard. The bottle slowed… slowed… and pointed straight at Colt.
The room went quiet for half a second, then exploded in cheers and wolf-whistles.
“Twins!” someone yelled. “Do it!”
Desiree’s face burned. Colt’s eyes never left hers. He crawled across the circle on his knees until he was right in front of her. The others leaned in, phones already out.
He didn’t do a polite peck. He cupped the back of her neck and kissed her like he’d been waiting years. Full, open-mouthed, tongue sliding against hers. Desiree made a small shocked sound and then kissed him back harder. Her hands found his shoulders. The room cheered louder.
When they finally broke apart, both were breathing hard. Someone shouted, “Again!” Colt didn’t wait for another spin. He pulled her up by the hand and led her out of the circle toward the hallway that led to the bedrooms. No one stopped them. The party noise swallowed their exit.
He pushed her into the master bedroom—their parents’ room for the summer—and locked the door. The only light came from the moon through the big windows overlooking the ocean. Desiree’s back hit the door. Colt’s mouth was on hers again, hungrier now. His hands slid under the sundress, found her bare ass (she hadn’t worn panties), and squeezed hard.
“I’ve wanted this since we were sixteen,” he growled against her lips. “Tell me to stop and I will.”
“Don’t you dare stop.”
He yanked the sundress over her head in one motion. She stood naked in front of her twin, nipples tight, pussy already wet. Colt shoved his board shorts down. His cock sprang free—thick, heavy, veined, and so long it looked almost unreal. Desiree’s eyes went wide.
“Jesus, Colt…”
“Too big?” he asked, almost teasing, but there was real heat in his voice.
She wrapped both hands around it. Her fingers didn’t meet. “Way too big. I’m a virgin.”
His breath caught. “Fuck. Really?”
She nodded, stroking him slowly. “I saved it. I didn’t even know for what until tonight.”
Colt lifted her like she weighed nothing and carried her to the huge bed. He laid her down and spread her thighs. For a long minute he just looked—her pink, untouched pussy, already glistening. Then he lowered his head and licked her open. Desiree’s back arched off the bed. He licked her like he was starving, tongue flat and slow, then pointed and fast on her clit. Two thick fingers eased inside, stretching her carefully. She was tight. So tight.
When she came the first time—shaking, crying out his name—he climbed over her. The fat head of his cock pressed against her entrance.
“Look at me,” he said.
She did. He pushed. The stretch burned. She bit her lip hard. He went slow, inch by thick inch, watching her face the whole time. When he finally bottomed out she felt impossibly full, like he was rearranging her insides.
“Too big?” he whispered again.
“Yes,” she gasped. “Don’t stop.”
He fucked her in long, deep strokes, giving her time to adjust, then harder when her nails dug into his back and she started moaning for more. The bedframe slammed the wall. Downstairs the party still raged, music loud enough to cover the sounds of twin siblings losing their minds on each other.
He came inside her with a broken groan, flooding her virgin pussy. They stayed locked together, sweating, kissing, laughing in disbelief. Then he got hard again still inside her and took her a second time, rougher, her legs over his shoulders, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room.
Sometime after midnight they heard people leaving. The house grew quieter. Colt pulled out of her slowly; a thick river of his cum followed. Desiree looked down at the mess between her thighs and shivered.
“We’re not done,” he said.
Two nights later the rest of the friends had gone back to the city. It was just the twins left in the big empty Hamptons house. Rain lashed the windows. Colt found Desiree on the couch in one of his shirts and nothing else.
“There’s a movie theater in town that stays open late,” he said. “Old place. Private booths in the back. I heard things.”
Desiree’s pulse kicked. “What kind of things?”
“Gloryholes.”
She stared at him. Then she smiled, slow and filthy. “Drive.”
The theater was half-empty, the kind of place that smelled like old popcorn and secrets. They bought tickets to whatever was playing and went straight to the back corridor of private booths. Colt paid cash for the farthest one. Inside it was dark except for the glow of the screen. A waist-high partition separated their booth from the one next door. Right in the middle of the partition was a perfectly round, well-used gloryhole.
Desiree’s heart hammered. Colt locked the door, then turned her to face the hole.
“You sure?”
She nodded, already pulling his shirt off. She was naked underneath. Colt stroked his massive cock until it was fully hard, then guided it through the hole from their side—just the thick shaft and heavy balls visible on the other side.
Almost immediately a warm, wet mouth closed over him.
Desiree dropped to her knees beside the hole so she could watch the anonymous lips stretch around her twin’s cock. The stranger on the other side sucked greedily, making filthy wet sounds. Colt’s hand fisted in Desiree’s hair as he watched her watch.
“That’s it,” he groaned. “Take it. Look how big it is in that mouth.”
After a few minutes the mouth pulled off. A different set of lips—softer, more careful—took over. Desiree couldn’t take it anymore. She pushed Colt’s hand away, pulled his cock back through the hole, and swallowed him herself. She choked almost immediately; he was simply too thick. Spit ran down her chin and onto her bare tits while she forced herself deeper.
Colt pulled her up, spun her around, and bent her over the small shelf in the booth. He pushed into her from behind in one long thrust. Desiree cried out, the sound lost under the movie’s soundtrack. He fucked her hard and deep, one hand over her mouth, the other on her hip, while the gloryhole sat empty and waiting beside them.
When he was close he pulled out, shoved his cock back through the hole, and came in thick ropes across the stranger’s waiting tongue. Desiree watched every pulse, her own fingers frantically rubbing her clit until she came too, thighs shaking.
They didn’t leave right away. Colt sat on the narrow bench and pulled Desiree into his lap, facing him. She sank down on his still-hard cock and rode him slowly while the movie played on, ignored. Every time she rose and fell she felt the stretch all over again—the same stretch that had taken her virginity two nights earlier in their parents’ bed.
“I love you,” she whispered against his mouth.
“I know,” he said, thrusting up hard. “Now be a good twin and come on your brother’s cock again.”
She did. Twice more before they finally fixed their clothes and walked out into the rainy Hamptons night, hands linked, smelling like sex and popcorn and each other.
Back at the house they barely made it inside. Desiree dropped to her knees in the entryway and sucked him clean. Colt carried her upstairs and fucked her in the shower, against the glass, on the bathroom counter. Every time he bottomed out she still gasped at the size. Every time he filled her she came a little harder.
Near dawn they lay tangled in the big bed, the ocean audible through the open windows. Desiree traced the veins on his half-hard cock with one fingertip.
“We’re going to do this all summer,” she said.
Colt kissed the top of her head. “All summer. And every summer after that.”
She smiled against his chest, already feeling him thicken again under her hand.
“Good. Because I’m nowhere near done taking this massive cock.”
He rolled her under him, spread her thighs, and pushed back inside in one smooth stroke—still almost too big, still perfect.
Outside, the Hamptons waves kept crashing. Inside, the twins kept moving, skin on skin, twin hearts pounding the same rhythm, the gloryhole and the spin-the-bottle kiss and the first virgin stretch already turning into the rest of their secret life.
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