Twins Keeping Warm - 3. Chapter 3 – Role Reversal

It wasn't quite the same for me as it was for Anton. I guess it is because we don't always see eye to eye; I do, of course, mean that in the figurative sense because we obviously see eye to eye literally.

I guess the real difference is the way we see each other, or I guess, to put it more accurately: what we see in each other. I think that when Anton looks at me, he sees little bits of himself. I think he looks at me and recognises his smile, or the colour of his eyes. He looks at my hair and wonders if maybe he should cut it or not; like I am sort of a dry-run. Well, Erik's new haircut looks good; I maybe I should get mine cut. Or, Erik looks like a twat with short hair; I'm never going to get mine like that. I guess what I mean to say is that to Anton, I am a person who looks just like him and it is horribly convenient.

I don't mean to sound like I am slaging him off, I know he loves me and we couldn't be any closer; but like I said, we just don't see eye to eye.

When I look at Anton, I don't just see that he has the same colour eyes as I do or that he has the same cheeky grin; I see something more. The whole is greater than the sum of its parts. There is more to Anton than just what I see and when I put the pieces together, a different picture emerges all together.

Now, I don't what you to get the wrong idea. It is not like a fancy him; it just wasn't as difficult for me to be intimate with Anton as it probably was for him to see me that way.

But this is all neither here nor there. The fact of the matter is that I was lying nude, next to my twin brother with the roaring fire warming my back. I didn't want this moment to end, I wanted to lie her in this cabin forever just looking at the face of the boy who means to much to me. Of course, that is not particularly realistic.

Soon, we would be dug out of our snowed-in cabin and we would brave the cold together, but not in the same way. We would always be together, but my greatest fear was that it would never be like it had been for the past 24 hours. I didn't dilute myself into entertaining the notion that it could possibly be the same.

My eyes were fixed upon Anton's visage. His brownish-blonde fringe fell around his blue eyes. The contrast made the brilliant colour of his eyes seem brighter, more vibrant. A wide simile crossed his lips as my fingers ran through his manicured pubic hair. His smile was infections, and the light of the fire seemed to make his teeth glisten. My fingers continued to weave in and out of his bush.

`You like the trim?' he asked?

`Yeah, it's brilliant, I'm not sure why it never occurred to me to cut mine,' I answered.

`Oh, well, that's because you are not nearly as clever as I am,' he quipped.

`No,' I said, `that can't be it.'

`Would you like me to give you a haircut,' he asked. His cheeky smile radiated light that seemed to spread over his face.

`Sure, why, not,' I said, `guess we don't have anything better to do.'

Anton got up and walked to the kitchen to retrieve a pair of scissors. He muscles of his lithe legs carried him the short distance. With each step the tendons, fibres and ligaments budged and constricted. I don't think skinny would be the right way to describe his legs, it was not that they were narrow- like the thin hand carved pillars that supported a church
roof. They didn't widen much at the thigh, but that made his arse look more muscular and chiselled. His nimble legs carried him back to me, sitting in front of the roaring fire, which bathed me in its warmth.

`Stand-up,' he said, lowering himself to his knees.

My crotch was directly in front of his face- I could feel his warm breath as it found its way to my prick. His right hand slowly moved up the muscles of my thigh until it gingerly grasped my cock. He held my prick away from the blades as they sliced through my pubic bush. The long dark hairs cascaded to the floor, forming a small pile of pubes at my long slender feet.

Like an artist putting the last few brush strokes onto his masterpiece, Anton examined my bush. He made small alterations here and there until he was satisfied with his work.

The warmth of his breath continued to swirl around my cock and the pressure of his fingers against my shaft began to have an affect. Slowly, my foreskin retracted and exposed my sensitive bell-end. Anton put the scissors on the floor and began to pull back more foreskin, exposing more of my knob to the warm air that escaped his lips in measured bursts.

Even when we were wee Anton was fascinated by my foreskin; he used to play with it when we took baths together. Now, he was stretching it back and forth over my bell-end. The sensation was sending tingles down my shaft, that shot through my nervous system. Using both hands he stretching it forward, completely covering my glans and then pulled it back in on itself exposing my bell-end. He continued to pull my foreskin up and down, up and over my shaft and then he did something I never would have expected.

He pulled my foreskin up my thick shaft and slowly extended his tongue, touching the tip of it to the end of my cock. Shock, more than any physical feeling, coursed through my body. Slowly, he began to move his tongue in small clockwise circles around my glans. I closed my eyes and softly bit my lower lip as Anton continued to caress my bell-end with his soft warm tongue.

The circles got larger, and he tongue moved in a smooth anti-clockwise motion bathing me in his saliva. His slow circular sucking intensified when he reached the dark purple ridge that separated my bell-end from my shaft. He wrapped soft and supple lips around the ridge and began to gently suck my knob-end whist his tongue went in small circles around the tip of my cock.

The combination of sucking and circular licking sent chills through my body. His caressing continued and I grabbed onto the mantle above the fireplace to steady myself, fearing that in my ecstasy my legs would give out and send me toppling to the ground.

Whist he continued his tongue's circular caress, he pushed his lips down my shaft taking my entire 6 and a half inches into his warm mouth. His nose was pressed up against my trimmed pubic bush. His warm saliva covered my stiff prick as his head moved up and down my shaft. His tongue was no longer concentrating on my bell-end and was now moving up and down my thick shaft tracing anti-clockwise circles on my stiff rod. His right hand gently grasped by bollocks, squeezing each one in turn.

I could feel a build up that felt as if it originated in the base of my spin. His tracing tongue and bobbing head continued to move up and down my shaft which was now slick, covered in Anton's spit and saliva.

Up and down, his lips clinched onto my prick tighter than they had been. I could see the muscles of his back supporting his head as it continued to stroke my shaft. The bulging veins of my prick made strange indentations on his ruby red lips as they passed over the throbbing blue lines.

It felt as if my bollocks had shot up inside of me as my massive orgasm swept over my body like a tsunami. Wad after wad of my hot spunk shot down Anton's throat. He swallowed my entire ejaculation, not letting a single drop escape from his mouth. After my orgasm subsided, Anton stood up and pulled my body next to his. I could taste my cum as he pressed his tongue into my mouth. I ran my fingers through his hair and he gently grasped my arse.

He pulled his lips away and smiled.

I retuned the smile and kissed his neck, as he laid his head against mine. I don't know how long we stood there in our embrace; but I didn't want it to end. I don't know what would have happened if the buzzer hadn't rung.

The sharp, unexpected, sound filled the room and we both jumped a foot off the floor. I quickly put on Anton's pants and ran to open the door.

It was the porter who told us that we had been freed from our snowy prison. I thanked him and noticed that he had turned completely red before he walked away from the door quickly. I turned around to see that Anton was standing naked behind me, his erection perpendicular to his body with a smile beaming across his face.

`That was brill,' he said. `Did you see the expression on his face?'

`Why didn't you leave the room, you knob?'

`Odd choice of words there, Erik. I did it because it was hilarious.'

`No, it was mental. Are you barking? What's wrong with you?'

`Oh, come off it; it's funny. The expression on his face was priceless.'

`See, the problem when you pull shite like that is that now he thinks he knows what I look like naked too. It reflects poorly on me.'

`Ouch.'

`So, grow up.'

`You're just jealous because I am better at pulling than you.'

`Okay, you really are mental. I pull way more girls that you. I am like Russell Brand; but good-looking'

`That analogy doesn't work. Russell Brand only pulls because he is dirty and repugnant- take that away and he is nothing; oh, wait, now I see where you are coming from. Yeah, I get it now. You are totally like a loser version of Russell Brand.'

`I bet you an Irn Bru, I can pull the next eligible bird we see before you do,' I huffed in retort. Betting a can of Irn Bru, has been our standard bet since we started consuming the ginger coloured fizzy drink when we were about 6-years-old.

`You're on and the loser, you Mr. Brand, has to come in for sloppy seconds.'

`Alright, mate,' I said extending my hand.

The two of us dressed quickly, leaving our incestuous experience in the cabin as we set out into the blinding cold outside the cabin to find out parents. It was about 18.30 by the time we got to the `rents cabin and the four of us set off for dinner. We still had one more day of skiing (and snowboarding for me, because I am just that much cooler than everyone else I know). We had good banter at the hotel restaurant, as always and mum and dad headed back to their cabin. We told them we were not knackered in the slightest and decided to see if we could get served at the bar. Back home, we never had and problems being served; but we were not sure what out chances would be in puritanical America.

We walked up to the bar to find a fit young bartender. He had short cropped black hair and piercing green eyes. Anton and I smiled at him and asked for a pint of lager.

`Can I have your IDs, please?' He asked.

`You can have my word,' Anton said.

The bartender looked at us like we had three heads.

`Excuse me?' he asked.

`My word,' Anton said, `you can have my word that we are both of age.'

`Um, I'm afraid that won't be good enough, sir,' the bartender said.

`What's wrong with my word?' Anton said feigning a hurt and dejected tone.

`Um, well, unfortunately, your word is not legally sufficient.'

`That is tragic. What has happened to this country when you can't trust the word of an upstanding person such as myself.'

`Does that actually work in England?' The cute bartender asked.

`Well, we wouldn't know,' Anton said, `we aren't English.'

`But I reckon, it wouldn't.' I said. `In fact, to be perfectly honest, I don't think it would work in Scotland either. Of course, there we usually just get served there without must fuss.'

`Yeah, I am really sorry, guys.' The bartender said sincerely, `but there is really nothing I can do.'

Dejected, Anton and I sat in the bar and drank a few cokes before heading back into the cold night to walk back to our, hopefully, warm cabin. En route, we walked past the outdoor hot tub were a young sounding voice called out to us. We walked over to find a 17-year-old girl with short brown hair smiling at us.

`Hey, excuse me.' She bellowed at us.

We walked over to her, looking down at the head that seemed to float above the cloud of rising smoke and churning water.

`This might seem a bit strange,' she began, `but my parents and I were sitting next to your family at dinner and we were trying to figure out were you were from. My parents think you guys sound Welsh; but I think you are from Scotland. Who's right?'

`You've got a good ear,' I said, `considering how Americans are rubbish at placing accents, I am really impressed. We are Scottish.' I shot her my cheekiest smile and she blushed, slightly.

`But as long as you don't think we're English,' Anton piped in, `then you are good by us!'

Anton sounded like a puppy trying to get attention at teatime. She gave Anton a confused look and I rolled my eyes in an irreverent sort of way. She smiled at me.

`You guys want to get in here with me?' she asked. `I'd love to learn more about Scotland, I've never left the US.'

`Actually, we didn't bring our swimming costumes,' Anton said, knowing that I was way more likely to pull this brunette than he was.

`That's okay,' she said removing her top from under the water and daintily placing it on the ground next to the hot tub. Her cheeky smile was all the encouragement I needed, and I quickly stripped off my clothes and sat on the top step of the hot tub. Anton disrobed as well and slowly sank into the steaming water.

My placement was quite strategic. I sat between Anton and the girl, who was called Tonia. The warm water washed up against the deep grooves of my abs. My entire torso was exposed to the cold air which made my muscles seem ever more pronounced. Anton, like Tonia, was into the water up to his neck. I began to chat Tonia up and Anton, looking like a right knob just sat there. It was painfully obvious that I was going to win this wager. I
could already taste that sweet bubblegum flavoured elixir in my mouth; but then Anton turned the tides.

The water came up to the centre of my chest, but my cock was still completely covered and because I sat higher than Anton, Tonia didn't notice when he moved his strong hands up my thighs and grasped my prick in his nimble fingers.

The warm water made it easier for Anton to slide his hands up and down my shaft, which now stood completely erect. Needless to say, I now found it a bit awkward to try and continue chatting up Tonia. Anton took full advantage of my distraction and whist absentmindedly stroking my cock under the water, proceeded to carry on the conversation.

I had no idea what they were saying, my attention was completely fixated on my prick, which Anton was slowly stroking from the base to the bell-end, giving it a firm squeeze when he reached the end. Up and down his fingers squeezed and pulled my prick whist his other hand caressed my bollocks. He knew exactly when to stop, right when I was on the brink of a massive underwater orgasm. Once the urge subsided he resumed his stoking. If he hadn't had the exact same anatomy as me and if he didn't know exactly how I stoked my own shaft; I am sure he could not have continued this game. But, unfortunately for me, my identical twin knew exactly what how I masturbated and exactly when to stop in order to forestall my orgasm.

He brought the game to a whole new level once I felt his middle finger running up and down my arse crack. He just passed over my hole briefly, but his long finger moved knowingly over the crevasse formed my by arse cheeks. The warm water lubricated his entry when his finger finally penetrated me, going past my bum hole and deep inside my anus. He moved his finger in and out in time with his stroking and, as before, just when I
felt I was on the brink of going subsiding to the thralls of a massive orgasm, he stopped. What he was doing.

He left his finger inside my bum and the muscles contracted around it, squeezing hard wanting to pull it forward to touch my prostate; but he did not relinquish control over my sexual experience. I was at his complete mercy.

To make it worse, he acted as if he had no idea what was going on. He continued to chat up Tonia without giving the slightest indication that he was fucking me with his long finger and stroking my shaft like Aladdin trying to summon the stubborn genie.

The game continued for 10, maybe even 20 minutes. The water of the hot tub must have been full of my precum. The combination of his water aided stroking combined with his penetrating finger would have been maddening, if it had not felt so fulfilling. Finally, I came to realise that Anton had invited Tonia to come back to our cabin; of course, I was in no position to stand up from the water- not with my raging erection. I watched as the two
of them scampered off into the dark, leaving me alone in the warm pool- my prick throbbing and begging for release, of course, I knew that now would be an inopportune time and that the situation would be far more rewarding if I could hold off for another few minutes.

When my boner had subsided, I got out of the water and got dressed. The shrill air rocked my body and almost sent me to the ground. It felt like someone was pouring concrete into my lungs. I hurried back to the cabin and let myself in. I could hear moaning coming from Anton and my small bedroom. Well, he certainly hadn't wasted any time.

I stood in the entryway and watched as Anton thrust his cock into the girl's tight hole. The sturdy muscles of his legs flexed with each motion- it seems like every muscle in his chiselled body rippled from the exertion.

He threw his head back and I could see beads of sweat slowly drip from past his hair, along his neck and cascade down the deep crevasse formed by his spinal cord.

His sinewy body glistened from his exertion. The deeply defined muscles of his arse pulsed with each thrust of his hips. A loud masculine groan reverberated through the small room in cadence to the sound of the wooden headboard as it smacked violently against the wall. The entire bed shook from his forceful thrusting and part of me feared it would collapse; but he continued unrelenting as he forced his thick cock into the girl.

First my trousers fell gently to the floor. My pants followed and I leaned against the doorframe my fingers glazing over my erect cock. I spat in my fist and pulled at my bell-end. Small currents of electricity ran down my shaft and made my anus contract. My right hand ran up my thigh and gently manipulated my testicles, which hung loosely in my sack.

The room was hot and already smelled of sex and teenage hormones. Anton sensed my presence and rolled onto his back, pulling the girl on top of him. She gyrated her hips, moving up and down his shaft. With a open hand, Anton hit the girls arse and spread open her hole using both hands. I took this as my cue.

In a quick motion, I shed my top and placed my knees on either side of the girl. Before she was truly cognisant of my presence, I was thrusting my throbbing cock into her hole. She screamed out in unadulterated pleasure- but my thoughts were not on her.

Whist I pumped my prick into the girl, my eyes met Anton's. The warmth of the girl's arse wrapped around my pole as my lips met Anton's and his willing tongue slithered into my awaiting mouth.

I could feel his tongue as it explored every nook of my mouth, sliding over my teeth, rubbing against my gum and wresting with my tongue- fighting for dominance. I could feel his sweating hand run through my hair and as I continued to pump my throbbing cock into the girl's hole, it was as if I could feel Anton's prick on the other side. It was like his bell-end sought mine through the girl whose warm insides bared the way.

I could feel the build-up, and I knew couldn't push it back. It was like the floodgates had been opened, passion bubbled up, engulfing my loins in fiery rapture. My cock began to spam and coated the inside of the girl's arse with layer after layer of my hot white spunk. I could feel the girls hips violently push up against me, but I came to realise it was Anton. His own orgasm had ripped through his body and he began to convulse and buck
up against the girl who now found herself in the middle of two twins in the thralls of passion.

Once our orgasms subsided, the girl slid to the side and tried to catch her breath. I was now lying directly on top of Anton, our naked and sweaty bodies pressed together. He kissed me again and his hand ran down the length of my back, feeling the wet sweat the coated my skin.

`That was amazing,' the girl managed to say in between breaths.

`We know,' Anton and I both said at the same time. The two of us laughed and I put my head on his chest.

`I hate to do this,' she said, `but I need to get back or my parents will start wondering where I have gone to.'

`Okay,' Anton said, `it was great.'

`Thanks,' she said as she gathered her things.

Anton and I were not paying much attention to the girl; we were in our own world. Bathed in each other's warmed, we drifted off to sleep.