Two If A Kind: Two In A Bind Part 1: Home Alone... NOT! (f/solo,voy)
by Pred ([email protected])
"Sometimes you can be so stupid, Kevin," Eddie punched at the steering wheel
as he rounded the corner. "Can't you see what the Big Guy Above has given
"No! No! Not this again," Professor Kevin Burke cut off his best friend
with a frantic wave of his hands. "We are not going to bring up the C- word.
We took the oath. No C- word. The C- word is strictly verboten..."
"Come on, man, she takes care of the kids, does the dishes..."
"No, she doesn't," Kevin interrupted. "I do the dishes."
"Well, then, she makes the beds..."
"Cleans the living room?"
"Cooks the meals."
"Big fat zero."
"Well, then what the heck does she do?"
"Besides wear on my last raw nerve?"
"See what I mean, you guys are practically married already, I just don't see
"Wh .. what did you say?" Kevin stammered. "I must be hearing things,
because there is no way you said what I thought I just heard you say. No,
you couldn't have said that because you took the oath. You swore to the oath.
You are an oath-swearer..."
"Screw your oath!" Eddie hollered back at his friend. "You can make up all
the little oaths in the world, but it doesn't change the incontrovertible
facts of life..."
"What did you just say?"
"I said, 'You can make up all the oaths'..."
"Incontrovertible. You said the word 'incontrovertible.' Now, what's up
with that?" Kevin found himself mimicking the speech patterns he'd heard his
daughters use so much.
"It's a word."
"I know it's a word, but you... used it correctly. You haven't been reading
books behind my back again, have you...?"
"Don't change the subject, Kev. We were talking about Carrie."
"No, we weren't. We definitely weren't because that would be violating the
"There is no oath, Kevin. There's just you, a pathetic little wimp who
doesn't have the guts to reach out and grab the gift that's been handed to
you... on a freaking silver platter."
"Listen, if you think she's so great, why don't you 'reach out and grab
"She ain't my type."
"I didn't know you had a type. 'Incontrovertible?' Women who aren't your
type? It's like I don't even know you anymore."
"You know how I am about redheads."
"My mom's a redhead. I can't get the hots for redheads. That would be sick,
"Well, she's certainly not my type, either."
"Listen, Kev, she's young, she has a nice set of cans, and she can stand to
be in the same room with you. At this stage in the game, that is your type.
That is exactly your type. Besides, you already have her hooked."
"And what the hell does that mean?"
"The girls, man. You already have her playing mommy..."
"She is not playing mommy."
"Don't kid yourself, man. There's a strong attachment there, and that's only
making her even more aware of the possibilities."
"Whether you're... you know... doable or not."
"She's checking out the package, man..."
"She is most certainly not 'checking out the package'!"
"Chicks can't help it man. It's like hard-wired into their brains or
something. You're Mr. Science, you should know that. Put a dame in close
quarters with a guy, and they start checking him out. It's inevitable"
"You're being absurd."
"Am I?" Eddie laughed. "You do me a favor, then, Einstein. Next time you
wear those tight white tennis shorts, think of something sexy and give
yourself a hard-on. Then stand right there in front of her, plain as day,
and tell me she won't be inspecting the meat."
"Listen, Eddie, I can virtually guarantee that at no time has Carrie Moore
ever 'inspected the meat'."
"You can deny it all you want, buddy, but you know deep down I'm telling the
truth. You just don't want to admit you're attracted to her."
"I am not attracted to her."
"So you've never looked at her rack before."
"That juicy ass?"
"Those succulent, blow-job lips."
Kevin shook his head.
"Never thought about getting her spread-eagled across a king-sized mattress,
parting those toned creamy thighs, and checking out whether she's a natural
"Then you must be gay."
"I'm not participating in this conversation anymore."
"Fine by me," Eddie smiled. "Here's your house," he stopped the car across
the street but left it idling. "Now get out."
"What? Can't you pull up into the driveway?"
"Transmission problems. It sticks when I put it in reverse. I've gotta look
at it tomorrow. You're just going to have to rough it tonight."
"Fine," Kevin slid out of the car.
"Say 'Hi' to the little woman for me," Eddie chuckled as he pulled off.
"Go screw yourself," Kevin cursed as he trudged across the street and up the
'He won't be home for another hour or so...' Carrie looked up at the clock
as she fished through her purse. 'The girls are finally asleep, I have the
house to myself... PARTY TIME!' She giggled girlishly as she sucked on the
joint she'd fired up minutes earlier. 'Ooo, that's good stuff...' She took
another long drag of herb, letting the smoke waft through her lungs and
tingle the synapses in her brain. 'Shit, that makes me so horny...' She
snorted through her nose as she imagined what she was about to do.
Withdrawing the vibrator from her purse, she carefully set it down on the
sofa cushion next to her. An instant later, she produced a boxed videotape
from the same pocket in her handbag. 'Baby, this had better be hot...' She
studied the box cover... Gang Bang Girls of Cherry University... slid the
tape out, scrambled over the coffee table, and inserted the black cartridge
in the VCR.
'Let's get ready to rum-ble!' Her mind was hollering as she hit fast forward
on the VCR remote and took another drag from the joint. 'Nothing like a
little R&R. It can get so uptight in here,' she mused to herself. Since
signing on as the Burke's permanent babysitter, she'd been forced to curb her
wilder tendencies, the same tendencies that had previously ruled her life.
The Professor knew a bit about Carrie's background, but not all of it. Sure,
she'd been a dealer in Vegas, but she'd also done some other things, too...
things she didn't think the Professor ever needed to know about. 'God, I
miss the feel of hard cock stuffed in my pussy... my ass... my mouth... fuck,
During her many jaunts and adventures, Carrie Moore had never gone hungry for
carnal delights. Cocks, pussies, whips, piss... She'd had her taste of just
about ever sexual thrill the world had to offer, and she'd enjoyed them all.
But that was then, and this was now. She'd moved on with her life. No more
Carrie "Gimme" Moore, the girl with the insatiable appetite for lust. She
was a college student with a good responsible job and some people who truly
cared about her... at least the "her" that they thought they knew. I wonder
what the old Professor would think of me if he saw me now? She giggled to
herself as she stopped the VCR remote, set it down beside her and began
unzipping her jeans. 'Shit, I've seen a hundred uptight guys like him
before, especially in Vegas. They know what they want, they just don't have
the guts to make a move and take it. Pity, too, because I know he's packing
some serious heat under those Dockers.' By her crotch-watching estimates --
and she'd never known herself to be more than an inch off - Professor Kevin
Burke had to be sporting roughly eight inches of prime hard manhood, maybe
even nine. The old Carrie would have had him in the sack before he could
say: "Do you have protection?"
But things were different this time around. Mary-Kate and Ashley... Her
mind wandered over the image of their innocent, budding curves just peeking
out from inside an identical pair of skinny, slightly awkward, almost boyish
frames. 'It's like fucking torture, delicious torture...' She licked her
lips and smiled. 'One stiff cocked daddy, and two nubile little pre-teen
waifs. Jesus, what I wouldn't give to bury my face in both their sweet, bald
pussies while they sucked their daddy's big, hard schlong...'
She'd scooted her jeans down past her waist now and returned her attention
to the flickering TV screen. A coed was being kept after class by her
professor. There was a problem with her grade. She was getting an F, and
she had needed an A on her final exam to pass the class and remain in
school. The plot was cliched, and Carrie knew what was coming next, but the
predictable scene still elicited a damp itch in the recesses of her soft,
"I can only think of one way you can bring your grade up," the professor told
the distraught coed.
"I'll do anything, professor," she girl pouted.
"Sure you will," Carrie whispered to the screen. "Slut."
"I must warn you, though, Carrie," the professor spoke, and for the first
time Carrie Moore realized the porno starlet's character shared her same
first name. "I grade everything strict, not just term papers and exams.
You're going to need an A on this to pass and stay in school. So, are you
sure you want to even take my little make-up exam. You could go to all the
trouble, and still fail."
"I... I guess I don't have any choice," she replied.
"Have you ever taken this kind of... exam... before," the professor spoke
smoothly as he began unbuckling his belt.
"A few times," the coed whispered, her eyes glued to the growing bulge in
"Do you consider yourself an A student?" he winked at her.
"It depends... do you - like -- give extra credit for effort?" she responded.
'Oh, brother...' Carrie chortled, the hackneyed humor only further
stimulating her juices as she concentrated on the scene and began putting
herself in the other Carrie's place.
"You can take it from here now," the professor pointed to the snap on his
pants. "I'd like to see what you do with your... introductory statement."
The coed licked her lips and began attacking the buttons. He pressed his
turgid tool up against her cheek as she struggled to free its gargantuan
mass. "Shit!" she yipped with a combination of terror and glee as the
porn-stud's ramrod snapped to attention, butting her in the nose and eyes.
"I think you might be feeling some test anxiety, Carrie," the professor
quipped. "It would be best if you just jumped right in and got to it. Now
let's hear your thesis statement," he hissed ever so slightly as he grabbed
her by the back of the head and pressed her flabbergasted face towards the
fearsome bulb of his prick helmet.
Take a deep breath, sister, Carrie gasped to herself. You're going down...
The coed gurgled slightly, and Carrie watched the actress recoil
instinctively as the porno-stud thrust his ten-inch ramrod straight down her
esophagus. Even for a porno-starlet, the stud's cockmeat was a lot to
handle, especially when he was calling the shots. 'That's it, Professor,'
Carrie found herself murmurming as the vibrator kicked into life and she
began teasing the insides of her toned, creamy thighs. 'It's time for you
take charge, just like you've been wanting to since the day you first set
eyes on me. I've been such a bad little slut teasing you like I do. I just
want you to cut all the uptight crap, pull my hair, and choke fuck me like
the dick-thirsty little cock-teasing whore I am...'
She took another hit off the J and scooted her ass further down the sofa
cushion, jamming the vibrator inside her hot twat now while the humming edge
repeatedly grazed the irritated pink bump protruding from atop her slick
labes. 'Deeper, baby, harder down my throat. Make me gag on it, Professor.
Show me the kind of whore I am, the kind of whore you want me to be...'
Sopping with her inner juices, the vibrator slid out of her tight box, glided
up her tummy, between her aching tits and teased her quivering mouth. She
wrestled furiously with her T-shirt top until it tore from her chest. With
her free hand, she mauled her boobies and plopped them one at a time from
their constraining C-cups. She sucked the vibrator down her throat, pinching
and tweaking her nipples and aureoli in rhythmic unison to downbeat of the
vibrator as it rammed into her tonsils.
'Skull fuck me, Professor. Skull fuck the life out of me...' She heard
herself moaning in ecstatic agony now as she duplicated the merciless
thrusting of the porno-stud, who was now pronging the starlet's windpipe with
the savagery of a jackhammer. Her fingers pinched her burning nips one more
time, drawing blood, before they descended like a flock of harpies on her
volcanic vulva. With one deft twist, she yanked her juicy clit in a sharp,
counterclockwise motion, sending a massive fuck quake through her writhing
body. "Fuck yeah!" she heard herself moan, not even caring now if she woke
the twins up.
Suddenly she heard a car door slam, and it jolted her to reality. 'Is he
back?' The notion sent a shudder of terror through her soul, which only
succeeded in ripping another cum-spasm from her pulsating pussy. 'Shit, I've
gotta stop this right now...' Horrified, she looked up at the wall to see if
the headlights had pulled away yet. This was a game she had played before,
jacking off on the Professor's couch until she saw the telltale sweep of
headlights glide over the living room wall as his or Eddie's car pulled into
the driveway. 'No headlights,' she sighed with relief. She peered out the
window and saw a car parked across the street. Distracted by her own
irresistible urges, she didn't dwell on the vehicle for more than a split
second before slouching back into the couch and priming her pussy for another
go around. 'Time for a double-header,' she snickered, tracing the vibrator
in circles around her still jutting nipples.
* * *
"What is she doing?" Mary-Kate asked her sister Ashley. She knew Ashley
wouldn't have no idea, but since her twin was always acting so much more
"worldly" than everyone, Mary-Kate figured it was worth a shot.
"I think she's..." Ashley broke off with a terrified gasp. It was like
some kind of horror movie, only it was real life. She and her sister had
been awoken by strange noises emanating from downstairs in the living room.
Thinking their dad might be home and talking to Carrie about "grown-up
stuff," they'd sneaked out on the landing at the top of the stairs to
eavesdrop. What greeted their eyes, however, was a far different sight
than they ever could have imagined.
Carrie was smoking something, and both girls knew from all the public service
announcement commercials on TV what that something was. "Marijuana," Mary
Kate had gasped under her breath. "She's smoking a joint."
"Carrie's so cool," Ashley had responded. "Our babysitter is the coolest."
Then they had sat in silence for five minutes or so while Carrie sucked on
the pot stick and fiddled around in her purse. A long wand emerged, followed
by a videotape in a loud-colored box. In the dark, neither Mary-Kate nor
Ashley could make out the movie, so they watched in silence to see what else
unfolded. Carrie popped the video in the VCR, and as it began to play they
watched her squirm on the couch. They heard her jeans unzip and saw her
rubbing herself down in her... "Oh my God!" they had whispered in unison,
their eyes riveted to the scene.
On the TV screen, the movie warbled into view. A man, some kind of teacher,
was chewing out one of his students. "Is that Matt Damon?" Mary-Kate had
asked in a hushed whisper.
"No, stupid," Ashley hissed back. "Now shut up." And they had stayed
silent, watching with a mixture of horror and queer fascination, until
Mary-Kate had broken the silence moments ago.
"Come on, what do you think she'd doing?" Mary-Kate now pressed her sister.
Already a vague recognition had begun seeping through her eleven-year-old
consciousness, but the notion was too... gross... to even admit. There's no
way. She couldn't be...
"Do you think she's...?" Ashley began again, and cut herself off.
"What?" Mary-Kate hissed back.
Ashley stated into Mary-Kate's eyes, and a psychic flash passed between the
two twins. Neither needed to speak the thought coursing through their barely
pubescent brains. They turned away from each other in embarrassment, each
ashamed they had both realized what was now transpiring. Separated in the
darkness of their room, each twin had often wondered if the other had
discovered the secret joys that curious fingers could create under the cover
of flannel sheets, cozy comforters and the inky darkness. Each had thought
they'd stumbled upon the greatest mystery game in the world, and each had
wanted to share their experiences with the other. But unlike every other
secret in their lives, this had remained unrevealed, unspoken. Sometimes one
would hear the creak of the other's bed, and wonder... Could she know, too...
But the prospect of even speaking about was to gross for words.
However, here they were watching Carrie commit the unspeakable upon herself.
As Mary-Kate studied the scene unfolding on the TV screen below, she found
her tummy beginning to rumble with the familiar, yawning ache. The actress
on the TV had now taken out the guy's thing, and it was huge!! Mary-Kate
glanced over at her sister, who's wide eyes were stretched open in awe. Then
Ashley gasped and gripped Mary-Kate by the arm, just like she did during the
scary movies they weren't supposed to watch. Mary-Kate's eyes went back to
the screen and she gulped, too. The actor was plunging his huge thing in
and out of the actress's mouth, and she was gagging on it, choking as the
spit dribbled out the corners of her mouth.
Something made Mary-Kate reach into her sweat pants and diddle the end of
stubborn little bump that burned atop her privates. Horrified at being
discovered, she glanced over at Ashley, suddenly realizing that her twin's
fingers were stuffed inside the identical crevice between her own legs.
Ashley then shot her sister a terrified glance, and they locked eyes again,
sharing another silent revelation. Mary-Kate scooted across the carpet until
she was pressed up against her twin's familiar, yet strangely different body.
Their bodies practically joined at the hip, they now strummed their nubile
nookies in perfect tandem as they lost themselves in the awe of the movie and
Carrie's solo performance.
Their babysitter was had now flipped a switch on the wand an it began to hum
with a soft, purring sound. As she moved the wand across her body, the twins
saw their lovely sitter begin to experience jerking convulsions. "She's
putting that thing down there," Ashley whispered in Mary-Kate's voice, her
voice reminding Mary-Kate of the Christmas they once sat perched at their
bedroom window waiting for Santa Claus. "It's vibrating," Ashley added.
"That must feel so good," Mary-Kate heard herself confessing.
"Um hmm..." Ashley agreed, pressing her body even closer into Mary-Kate's.
"What's she doing now?" Mary-Kate asked after time stood still for what
seemed hours. Carrie had removed the vibrating wand from her privates, and
was now running it across her breasts. They watched their babysitter tear
off her T-shirt top and plop her boobies one by one out of her bra. Although
their view was obscured by both the angle and the darkness, they couldn't
help but admire the creamy succulence of the woman's tits, the glow from the
TV flickering across the milky smoothness.
"She has such killer boobs," Mary-Kate whispered in awe. "I hope mine are
exactly like that when I grow up."
"She's putting that thing in her mouth," Ashley interrupted, "just like the
lady is doing with the guy's thing in the movie." They both watch in
reverence as their gorgeous sitter took the vibrating wand so deep into her
throat they thought she would choke herself. "She's like a sword swallower
with that," Ashley observed.
"She's even better than the woman in the movie," Mary-Kate added.
"Do you think Carrie would ever teach us how to do that?" Ashley asked
"You want to learn how to do that?"
"Look at that guy in the movie. He's absolutely loving it. That must make
a guy feel so good. I bet if you could do that, you'd have like every guy in
the world in love with you."
"You're gross," Mary-Kate giggled.
Just then they heard a car door slam outside. Startled out of their reverie,
they snapped to attention and looked at the living room for the telltale sign
of headlights. Nothing. False Alarm... They breathed a collective sigh of
relief, not wanting the magic of the moment to end. They watched Carrie peer
out of the living room window, shake her head, and return back to her
playing. Their dad probably wouldn't be home for another hour yet...