By Margo Perry  (margo707 AT rogers DOT com)
Copyright 2004 by Margo Perry, all rights reserved.

Two weeks and two days ago, Adam took a diamond ring from a velvet box and asked Eve to marry him. She accepted his proposal and, at that moment, his life seemed certain and promising.

Exactly one week later, a courier rang his bell and Adam signed for a package that contained a velvet box and a note that read: I know about her. Marriage to me is not what you need. Adam creaked open the box. Eve’s mockingly poised Solitaire stared up at him, shattering his heart as surely as if it were a prized crystal goblet dropped from a great height.

“Please Eve, we need to talk,” Adam pleaded, when he called an hour later.

“Tomorrow,” Eve said.

And tomorrow was now. As Adam drove the thirty minutes toward Eve’s apartment, a cacophony of urgent questions galloped across his brain like thirsty wild horses across a dry and merciless desert. Time was running out. How much did Eve know? How could he possibly explain what had happened? He took a deep breath and tried to put things into perspective. When was the last time he’d felt in control of his life or himself?

Certainly, not since the night of their engagement: He’d ordered in her favorite meal from her favorite restaurant and brought over her favorite wine. They ate, talked, danced and most importantly, when he placed the ring on her finger, she said, ‘yes’. The night had been perfect. Adam remembered not wanting it to end, wanting to stay and make love to Eve more than he’d ever wanted to make love to any woman in his whole life. He’d promised Eve that he would not pressure her for sex until after they were married and for five long years he’d been faithful to that pledge. But that night, he ached with wanting her and would have given anything to have her. Going home to masturbate alone in his apartment just didn’t seem good enough and somewhere down deep inside, he felt resentful. Could that have been the moment that his foundation shifted, leaving him vulnerable to what was to come?

“Your cab’s here,” Eve said, dropping the phone onto the coffee table. (Adam had left his car at home because he’d known they’d be drinking.) She held up her hand, spreading her fingers to best admire her ring. “I’ll never forget tonight,” she beamed.

“Come here,” Adam invited.

Eve was wearing a chocolate brown turtle neck. It accentuated her swanlike neck and over-sized breasts that strained the finely knit fabric, making it look almost diaphanous. Her matching long skirt fell over the curves of her round hips to expose her delicate ankles. Her olive complexion glowed with health and excitement. She radiated innocence, but all Adam felt was the lust of a man deprived of a woman for five long years. Love and lust surged through him like an electric current. His cock lurched toward her, and his breath came in short spurts. He pulled her closer, almost roughly, pressing his groin into her again and again, involuntarily seeking warmth and female wetness. His eyes devoured her breasts that were squashed between them. He imagined his cock plunging along the river of her cleavage, his cock fucking her tits. And he gasped as he felt pre-cum explode out of him, urging him toward completion.

“Please Eve,” he whispered hoarsely, now out of his mind. “Couldn’t we . . . just this once . . .”

“Time for you to go,” she said, wriggling out of his arms.

She giggled coquettishly, and he hated the sound. He didn’t want to hear a tinkle. He needed to hear the primitive drums that called to the wild and made animals of men. He wanted to throw Eve onto the floor and take her. He wanted to pull out his dick and pleasure himself until he spilled all over her tits and belly. He couldn’t do either, so he escaped – into the coat that Eve held out to him, out of the door, along the hall, down the elevator and into the blessed privacy of his cab.

“95 Grove, please,” he instructed.

“No problem.”

The driver had the gruff confidence of a man who’d been driving cabs for a long time; a man who welcomed the safety and privacy of the protective screen between them. They were two men alone together and that’s what Adam needed, time alone to think. He’d been dating Eve for five years now, ever since they landed teaching positions at the same High School. For at least three of those years they’d known that they were headed for marriage, but placing a ring on her finger made it more concrete. He felt like he had given away a part of himself and received some great responsibility in return. He didn’t feel burdened exactly, just obligated . . . and lonely. His heart felt heavy, like his balls felt swollen with the need to satisfy his frustrated hungers. His head understood that he’d agreed to celibacy until marriage, but his cock and his hot, rushing blood were not cooperating. Adam sighed, slouched low in his seat and discreetly slipped his hand inside his coat. It was heaven when he began to rub himself. The head of his cock was dangerously sensitive. He looked forward to being at home, to pleasuring himself to release. He felt an army of erotic foot soldiers gathering about his ass, moving across the trembling field toward his cock. He massaged his balls and the pressure mounted. He had to stop. He was too close. He stared out of the window, into the black night, and thought about his woman.

The very attractive Eve understated her considerable assets. She dressed to minimize the hugeness of her breasts and generous sway of her hips. She wore natural lipstick on her full lips and brushed her thick curly hair into submission, styling it in one long braid that fell halfway down her back. And when Adam touched her, he felt her holding back, holding onto something to keep from falling into it, into him. And when they kissed, she always pulled away long before he had finished exploring her mouth or dancing with her tongue. Adam hoped that it was her determination to maintain her principles that kept her so reserved and that once married, she would give herself over to a great passion. Adam sat in his cab, stroking his cock thoughtfully. When he got home, he tipped the driver generously.

Adam didn’t often take baths, but he did that night. He needed to lessen the stress. Turn down the volume on the erotic ravings that were caterwauling through his body. He wanted to pleasure himself slowly, but he was too close to the edge. He stayed in the tub until the heat almost lulled him to sleep. When he got out, he felt weary. He dried himself carelessly and pulled his terrycloth robe over his damp body. In the living room, he eyed his private stash of erotic videos and the thought of those luscious ladies began to revive him. He was conscious of his cock, of a gentle stirring. He thought of Eve. He wanted a woman. He wanted Eve. He wanted a woman.

Adam felt vaguely depressed and while he was still horny, loneliness had disembodied the feeling. It was as if he were watching from a distance, feeling feelings that were not quite his own. He had just about decided to crawl into bed when there was a knock on his door. He glanced at the clock on the mantel: 1:15AM. Eve, he thought. Eve had changed her mind. It had to be! She was the only person with a key! His head felt suddenly light and his heart began to pound with hope so great that his being could hardly contain it. The knocking became more insistent.

He rushed to the door, flung it open and stood paralyzed. There stood Eve, but it wasn’t Eve. This version was too brazen. This version wore a black cape that was flapping open like a bat’s wings. And the neckline of her stretchy red knit sweater plunged so low that Adam could see the peeking pebbled brown of her aureole. Shock grabbed Adam by the throat and he was having trouble absorbing the sight and swirling power of her. She wore black tights and elastic thigh high boots that clung to her legs like a second skin. He could see the outline of her pubis and see that it was stained with her wetness. He wanted to feel outrage and disgust, but he couldn’t. Her blatant sexuality was oozing out of her and into him, into his balls and cock. He felt his cock growing. He couldn’t get enough of her tits. He wanted to smell her pussy. She stepped closer to him and, in her six inch high heels, this creature looked the 6’2” Adam straight in the eye.

“Gonna’ let me in?”

She had more hair than Eve and she shook her head impatiently as she strode past him. Her tits bounced across his arm and chest. Her wild curls cascaded wildly about her face and down and over her humungous tits. She wore blue shadow and had outlined her eyes with a shiny black pencil. This version had thick ruby red lips and behind her eyes shone the devil’s gleam. This version looked like a whore. And Adam wanted her . . . wanted her desperately!

“I’m the evil twin and Eve’s worst nightmare,” she said, standing there in his living room like she owed it . . . and him for that matter. “You got any more of that nice wine you took over to Eve’s this evening?”

So, she’s been talking to Eve.
Why is she here?
What’s she trying to prove?
I gotta’ be very careful.

“Yes, there’s another bottle in the fridge.”

“Sit down before you fall down. I’ll get the wine.”

She shrugged and her cape fell from her shoulders onto the floor. Adam didn’t know whether he should pick it up or not, but he didn’t trust himself to move. His cock had betrayed him and the threat was getting larger by the minute. He sat gaping at her huge tits that called out to him like the ground calls to a falling stone. And he was falling. He was helplessly drawn to this wanton woman who exuded pure, relentless sex. And he felt her heat. It was like a raging fever and he wanted to howl.

“I didn’t even know that Eve had a sister, more less a twin,” Adam said to her back, to her firm ass that was swaying provocatively toward his kitchen door. “What’s your name?”

There was silence except for the slam of his refrigerator door and a general rustling about. Why hadn’t Eve told him about her? They were identical twins and yet, they couldn’t have seemed more different. Everything about this woman threatened him, made him vulnerable; made him want the one thing he shouldn’t . . . her!

“Call me Apple, like the fruit,” she laughed.

She was holding the chilled bottle of wine in her hand. She stared into Adam’s face, her eyes dark passionate slits, her lips pouting and her expression daring. She tilted her head back and took a swig of the wine.

“I guess you want to know what I’m doing here.”

“I couldn’t possibly imagine,” Adam said.

“You won’t have to imagine. I’m going to show you, my lovely horny man.”

Adam felt his breath catch in his throat. He folded his robe over his engorged cock. The tip was leaking. He looked ridiculous trying to hide what he couldn’t. He didn’t recognize his cock. It was so big.

“Impressive,” Apple commented, staring straight at his lap.

She went to his stack of CD’s, picked one out and placed it in the player of his entertainment system. In seconds the ballsy, raunchy intro to Don Henley’s “Dirty Laundry” had claimed the room. Apple took another swallow of the wine and placed the bottle on the mantel like a trophy already won.

She stood, her long legs spread apart, facing away from Adam. She tilted her head back and, using both hands, seductively lifted her mop of curls off her neck and onto the top of her head. She swayed to the beat and her pendulous breasts rolled from side to side, mesmerizing Adam. She bent her legs slightly and began to thrust her hips sharply, accentuating the downbeat: forward, side, backward and side. She turned the thrusts into a smooth forward and back pulsing movement that Adam felt all around his cock, as if it were inside her fucking pussy. He crossed his legs and shifted uncomfortably, running out of robe material to hide behind. She would turn and see. But, she already knew. She was pure temptation, fucking the air, filling the room with the thick and heady possibility of sex and Adam didn’t know if it was a threat, an invitation or a promise. Because Adam couldn’t think; all he could do was feel. And all he could feel was what Apple wanted him to feel and that was man wanting woman, an urge as primitive and compelling as life itself. His evening with Eve and his engagement seemed as far away as the faintest of dreams and just as difficult to grasp.

Apple turned and Don Henley sang:
I make my living off the evening news
Just give me something-something I can use
People love it when you lose,
They love dirty laundry

She walked toward Adam, exaggerating the crossing of her booted legs, alternately stroking the sides of her legs as she advanced. She was a beast on the prowl. She was woman wanting man and her horniness inspired him to even greater horniness. He felt helpless. He watched her coming and felt like her prey; a prey that wanted to be captured, needed to be taken.

Well, I coulda been an actor, but I wound up here
I just have to look good, I don’t have to be clear
Come and whisper in my ear
Give us dirty laundry

She was standing directly in front of Adam, smirking at his cock that had escaped the folds of his robe. It stood proudly erect, free, its smooth head glistening. Adam was embarrassed, but his puny embarrassment was nothing when compared to the overpowering and desperate desires that propelled him. She bent over and moved aside a coffee table that was between them. She stepped into him, her legs touching his. She dropped a hand between her legs and teased her own pussy. Adam could smell her. Adam wanted to bury his face in her. She took one finger and hooked it onto her sweater and in slow motion pulled it out and over her mountainous breasts. What a reveal! They sat atop a half bra that held them up and out like treasures for the taking. Guilt and a nagging remembrance of Eve played through Adam’s mind like Musak. He’d been faithful to her for five years. She was his newly appointed fiancée and yet, Adam couldn’t quite picture or feel her. She was as real and tangible as a curl of smoke on a windy day.

Kick ’em when they’re up
Kick ’em when they’re down
Kick ’em when they’re up
Kick ’em when they’re down

Apple slipped onto her knees between his legs. She ran her fingers over his naked thighs, played with his pubic hair and scratched his heavy balls. She massaged his legs with her giant breasts and then lifted them out of her bra and guided them toward his cock. She enveloped his cock in them and until Adam began to buck and thrust like an adolescent masturbating into his own greasy hand.

Kick ’em when they’re up
Kick ’em when they’re down
Kick ’em when they’re up
Kick ’em all around

She massaged the pre-cum that had oozed out of him slowly and deliberately over her mounds. She stood up, pulled her pussy lips apart so that Adam could see the slick wetness that had dampened her leg.

“I’m going to fuck you, Adam,” she said.

She climbed onto his lap, positioning his cock where her elongated and aroused clit could touch it. She held onto it, squirming against it and groaning like a demented thing. She pinched his hard nipples and laughed when he groaned. She raised herself up and slipped slowly onto his masterpiece. She treated it gently and with respect, devouring him in slow inches. And then she began to dance the fucking dance.

“Oh God, I’m sorry,” Adam screamed, thrusting hard, pelting months of pent up sexual rage into her warm and receptive pussy. “I couldn’t help it,” he panted, coming and still coming, plunging helplessly into her.

“It’s alright,” Apple said, holding his head tight to her bosom and cooing a mindless, soothing song.

She got up and quieted Don Henley and then came back to the couch to hold Adam again.

“I don’t know . . . ,” Adam started.

“Don’t talk,” she said.

“Don’t worry,” she said, after awhile.

And then she dressed and left.

Adam checked his messages. He hadn’t heard the phone ring, but was relieved when he got Eve’s message that she’d be filling in for another teacher who’d fallen ill and would be away at a conference for a week. She must have been contacted after he left her place and it was just like her to leave a silent message so as not to wake him.

If she only knew
I’m a real asshole

He told himself that he’d use the time to set Apple straight. Explain how much he loved her sister and beg her to forget what had happened between them. That’s what he told himself. But, he couldn’t resist when she came back the next night and then the next. He couldn’t resist the smorgasbord of sexually enticing costumes, plays and orgasmic heights they climbed together. It was as if he was out of time and place, as if he’d been bewitched beyond the pale of his normal existence. And he drowned himself in it; at least until last night. The night a courier returned Eve’s ring and that note. Eve was back and she knew. He assumed that Apple had told her, but it didn’t matter. She knew. And as he parked his car in her Visitors Parking lot and made his way to Eve’s apartment, he still had no idea what he was about to say or do. There were no words, no excuses; only panic and confusion.

Adam stood outside Eve’s door. The boxed ring weighed heavily in his pocket and he squeezed it desperately. He was a man with a foot on either side of a drawbridge and it was opening wide. He would have to jump to one side or be painfully split until he plunged into a cold and lonely sea. He didn’t know how he’d get Eve to understand something that he didn’t understand himself, but he’d have to try. He sighed deeply and knocked on Eve’s door.

“Come in,” Eve said.

She was wearing the same chocolate brown ensemble that she’d been wearing the night of their engagement. Guilt and love and desire flooded through Adam like a raw chemical designed to strip him emotionally naked. He remembered Eve and his deep feelings for her and they were at war with the vivid memories of Apple, himself and Apple. His cheeks felt flushed, but there was a cold tingling at the nape of his neck. He felt all man like some primitive power had instilled in him a new prowess, but he felt at the same time, desperately unsure and afraid. His knees trembled and he could feel liquid rising from his throat. Soon they would be tears.

“I don’t know what to say, Eve. I’m so sorry. I can’t blame Apple, I should . . .”

“Don’t say anything,” Eve said. “Just sit. I need to talk.”

Adam could feel any hope of redemption and forgiveness seeping out of him like water through a porous filter. Eve’s eyes were puffy and dark patches encircled them as if she hadn’t slept in days. She wasn’t allowing explanations and who could blame her? His infidelity was bad enough, but Apple was Eve’s twin and she had exposed his flaws and weakness with absolute certainty. Eve’s ring sat heavily and hopelessly in his pocket and he doubted it would ever see the light of this day.

“I made a mistake,” Eve said simply. “I shouldn’t have insisted that we wait . . .”

What?

She was staring off into the distance and Adam didn’t understand her tone. It was conciliatory, as if she were the guilty party. Her expression was wistful and, as crazy as it seemed, suffused with . . . caring! Adam felt suddenly and illogically expectant, as if he were poised on the edge of something grand. Eve was playing with her long braid, running it slowly over the long line of her cleavage. Adam watched her hypnotized.

“Before I met you, when I was in college, I fell in love for the first time . . .”

Eve was slowly undoing her braid. Adam felt like he was watching the slow motion unveiling of a dream.

“I seduced my philosophy professor. Over and over. Everywhere. I couldn’t stop wanting him. Wanting it. He was married. I didn’t care . . .”

Eve was running her fingers through, over and under her hair. It was becoming a bushy, curly wild mass. It was becoming . . .Apple’s hair.

“I got him fired and I lost him. His wife and he moved away. My heart was broken and I needed to punish myself. Redeem myself . . .”

Adam’s heart was pounding and his cock had begun to tingle. Eve reached into the purse that sat on the coffee table and took out a makeup kit and mirror.

“I used to be quite wild . . .”

She spread blue shadow on her eyes and lined them with a shiny black pencil. She puckered and painted ruby red lipstick on her full lips. Erotic flames danced in her eyes and she now had Apple’s face.

“I promised myself I wouldn’t open that door again until I was married and safe. And I thought I could do it, until that night you put that ring on my finger. It split me in two. Part of me wanted to stay the course, but another part of me just wanted you. After you left, I found myself . . . I had to have you. I couldn’t help myself . . .”

Eve stood up and pulled her sweater over her head. She was wearing a red half bra and Adam could see the pebbled brown of her aureole. Surprise had grabbed Adam by the throat and he was having trouble absorbing the sight and rushing power of her. She stood close to Adam, unbuttoned and unzipped her skirt. It fell to the floor and Eve’s matching red bikini panties were stained with her wetness.

“I didn’t mean to trick you . . .”

Eve crawled between Adam’s legs. She traced his cock with her finger, licking her lips and breathing heavily.

“My crime was cowardice, having to have you immediately and without negotiation. You must forgive me. I . . .”

“I do forgive you,” Adam said, his fingers pulling her head down, down toward the cock that Eve had set free. “I do,” he groaned.

Eve’s mouth was a creative, moving, licking sucking organ of erotic and relentless bliss. It was as if she owned his cock and had been born to give him pleasure. Adam had no choice. His head lolled back against the couch and he gave himself over. He wanted to close his eyes to feel more, but he had to see her, look at her. She was an animal of such primitive beauty. The very sounds of her slurping wet mouth devouring of his manhood, drove him toward orgasm. She was moving her body back and forth and the sight of her enormous breasts, beating against his knees, mashing onto his thighs, was driving him toward orgasm. Her passionate abandonment, complete horniness was driving him toward the fall.

“Adam,” said Eve. She stood and slowly pulled her panties down over her legs. She stepped out of them. She released the clasp of her bra and gathered her generous breasts.
“Adam,” she repeated. “I want you to take me.”

Eve moved toward the center of the room and lay down on the carpet. Her breasts flowed over her sides like giant rolling orbs of malleable flesh. Her nipples were hard with longing. She slowly spread her legs wide and began to touch her pussy.

“Please Adam,” she begged softly.

Adam didn’t know when he’d undressed, but he found himself naked between her legs, his cock longer and harder and thicker than he remembered. He teased her clit with it; brought her almost to orgasm with it. She was so wet. She was so hot. He eased his cock’s head inside her. She was twisting her nipple frantically and begging. “Put it in, Adam. Please put it in.” And Adam made her wait. He withdrew and fingered her clit until she begged. “Please, Adam, don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop!” But he did. He stopped and lay down on his back beside her, his cock a standing offer. He wanted to enjoy her ride. He wanted to see the bounce of her hair and tits. He wanted to be taken. And she took him. She rode him like the prized stallion he was. She varied the pace and he stayed with her. She used the length of him and he plunged back his appreciation, watched as she became mad with desire. And when he could take it no longer, when pleasure had crossed the line to pain and moved back again, he reached forward to finger her. And she could stand it no longer. She bucked and roared until they crossed the finish line. And then she fell spent, rolling onto and over him.

It wasn’t until they lay clinging to each other that he felt her tears.

“Hush, baby,” he said, stroking her hair. “Everything’s fine.”

She was almost asleep when he crawled over to the jacket that he’d flung on the floor. She cried again when he slipped the ring onto her finger.

They fell asleep on the floor and woke in the wee hours of the morning, their arms still around each other.

“Let’s go to bed,” Eve said.

And they did.