The Twins & Me

Send Nudes

"I'm glad you're making friends," Lila says as I shut the front door behind me. I told her I wasn't going to be home before her tonight because I was hanging out with these "friends."

I feel numb. "Yeah, same."

She mistakes this for exhaustion. "Why don't you take a bath?"

I nod. "Okay. You want this? I wasn't feeling well at the—er—restaurant."

She takes the take-out container with a shrug and pops the lid. The exquisite aroma of my untouched linguine wafts up at us. "God, this smells so good," she says, immediately going to grab a fork from the kitchen drawer.

I leave her to it, making my way to my room to unburden myself of my backpack. The rejected sets of underwear I debated wearing today still lay on my bed. With a sick feeling I wonder which pair Oliver would've liked most.

I throw the discarded bras and panties into the top drawer of my dresser and tie my hair savagely up in a bun before dragging myself to the bathroom to draw a bath.

Even though I showered only hours ago, I still feel dirty. I slide off my clothing, piece by piece, and inspect myself in the mirror. Teeth marks on my shoulder from Arlo and Oliver; soft bruises forming on my hips where they gripped me. My clit is tender, a little sore, and I can't help but rub it a little, savoring the dull ache it brings.

I shiver, and turn to pour some of Lila's good bath salts into the stream of water filling up the tub.

Where can I go from here? I like Arlo, infatuated with him even, and I don't want to lose him because of his brother. But is it worth it? Being Oliver's toy? I slide into the tub with shaky legs.

I can't deny it felt good having Oliver behind me, guiding my hips against Arlo. I've never been in a threesome before—it might actually be illegal in my little Connecticut town.

But it's not even like what happened earlier was a threesome; Oliver stayed fully clothed and did nothing more than grope my breasts and ass, slammed me hard against his brother...

I shiver again, even through the warm water.

If things never progressed further than that, I don't think there would be any problem at all, except—

You fuck us together, or not at all.

Something tells me Oliver can be very persuasive when he wants to. And Oliver listens to him without question, as if he knows best. He's had to rely on him his whole life, after all. I'm sure he does know what's best, most of the time. But when it comes to me? Would I be able to trust him unconditionally? I can picture myself putting all my faith in Arlo, all in. Oliver is dangerous, though. It might be a one-way street with him—it's unlikely he'd listen to me and my advice. I almost laugh out loud.

My phone, which I set on the lip of the tub, starts vibrating.

A text from Arlo: Don't freak. Ollie has your number.

I make a noise in the back of my throat, and before I can even reply, another text from an unsaved number comes through.

It's a picture.

I regret opening the message as soon as I do—it's a picture of a dick, completely hard and gripped by a hand with tattoos snaking up the arm.

I fumble with the phone and it drops in the bath.

"Ack!" I cry out, scrambling to save it from the soapy depths. It slides around the bottom of the tub, getting stuck under my butt. Then it vibrates again, sending pulses up my spine.

"No, no, no, stop!"

I finally manage to get ahold of it, and reach for my towel on the counter behind me. Thankfully, water resistency is a standard and my phone survives.

"Are you drowning?!" Lila shrieks from down the hall.

"I'm fine!" I blurt.

The second vibration was another text from Oliver: Your turn.

NO.

It's the rules.

You never told me about any dick pic rule!!!

Well it is. You have to return a pic when one gets sent to you. If you don't believe me, send one to Arlo.

I hesitate. This seems like something Oliver would make up to mess with me, but his words from earlier are still ringing in my ears about "punishments."

With a deep breath I turn on my front-facing camera. I try to relax my face and snap a picture, making sure the bubbles from the tub are covering my nipples. I send it to Arlo.

Within moments, he sends a topless photo back, smiling broadly.

I find myself smiling with him before saving the picture to my phone.

Then, grudgingly, I sink into the tub so my knees come out of the water in front of me. I spread my legs slightly, letting bubbles settle over my lap, being sure to keep my entrance covered. Then I take the picture, and before I second-guess myself, send it to Oliver.

He doesn't respond right away, and I hold my breath.

Finally: This'll hold me over tonight.

I fling my phone onto therug beside the tub and completely submerge my head in the water.