Bob has done his sister's hair their whole life, and she demands he do it
for her wedding too.  But something else is going on...  something strange.
Why is the Doctor there?  What is he DOING?  Wait...  what's SHE doing? 
And where did all that money come from?

Codes: MF rom 1st cons bro sis het mastrb pett preg
  ==================================================================

   The Bride's Hairdresser

   By Beating Off Bob (beatingoffbob@yahoo.com)

   Shawna and I were born about ten minutes apart.  While we were twins,
most people thought we wouldn't be as close as identical twins often are,
what with being different genders and all.

   They were wrong, though, because we were inseparable as we grew up. 
Even when most twins of opposite sex were separated - say around seven or
eight - we insisted that we had to share the same room, if not the same bed
any more.  So my dad installed a thick privacy curtain between our halves
of the room instead.  That curtain had no door, and you had to lift it up
to go from one side to the other.  That was OK, though, because we could
still talk and see each other if we wanted to.  We slept together almost
every night until we were sixteen.  Then the only reason we went to
separate beds was because we both had learned to masturbate, and for that
we wanted a little privacy.

   We did everything together.  Which meant that when Shawna started
learning to wear makeup and do her hair, I learned it too.  I didn't ever
apply that knowledge to myself.  I was a guy and guys don't do all that
crap, right?  But Shawna did, and I helped her.  I did her nails, and
critiqued her make up, helping her with eye liner and things like that that
were harder to do for yourself.

   But I excelled at doing her hair.  By the time we were getting ready for
our senior prom I could have worked in any salon anywhere.  I could cut,
color, style, shampoo, just about anything.  I had practiced on Shawna for
years and she always looked great.

   I think one reason I liked doing her hair was because we invariably did
it after she took a shower.  We weren't shy around each other, so she'd
come into the room naked and sit down in front of her vanity.  I'd come
over and start doing her hair.

   Picture in your mind standing behind a good looking teenage girl, with
well developed breasts and midnight black hair.  You can see almost all of
her in the mirror.

   That's what I did for years.  Quite often I sported a hardon.  I still
remember the first time she saw it.  I was in my PJs, which was a pair of
loose gym shorts.  We were fifteen or something and I was staring at her
breasts while I braided her hair.  My dick got hard and poked the front of
my shorts out.  I didn't even notice it right away, but it poked into her
neck and she turned around to see what it was.

   She gawked.  "What's that?" she said.

   "What do you mean - what's that?" I said.  "What does it look like?"

   "Oh," she said "You know what I mean.  How come it's doing that?"

   "Hmmmm" I said.  "Well, now, let me think ...  beautiful girl ...  naked
...  great boobs ...  I'm playing with her hair ...  Gee Shawna, I can't
imagine why it's doing that."

   "No!  Really, how come ...  you think I'm beautiful?"

   "Come on Shawn" I said huffily "You know you're good looking.  Guys
slobber all over you.  Don't play coy.  You aren't any good at it."

   She stared up at me.  "Look, you jerk, I know what those boys want and
THAT's why they tell me how hot I am.  But you're the first real person
who's ever said that to me like they meant it."

   She was serious!  "OK, OK, don't get your panties in a bind.  Oh yeah,
you don't have ON any panties." She started to get that look on her face
that meant I'd have to pay.

   I tried to mollify her.  "Yes.  I think you're beautiful.  If you
weren't my sister I'd be trying to get in the panties you aren't wearing
too.  But I really DO think you're sexy too."

   Now who would think that saying something like that to your sister would
turn her on?

   But it did.

   She stared up at me, her hair half braided and said "If I wanted to give
you a blow job ...  would you let me?"

   About ten million things flashed through my mind.  Right, wrong, good,
bad, what if someone finds out, all kinds of things.  What came out of my
mouth was "Yes."

   That began the portion of our lives where we masturbated, but DIDN'T
need any privacy to do so.

   And we slept together again after that night.

   But we never fucked.  That was a line we didn't want to cross.  Well,
she didn't.  And seeing as how it was her belly that would swell if the
wrong thing happened, I suppose I didn't either.  But we did everything
else that didn`t involve sticking something in her pussy other than my
tongue.

   Then high school was over and it was off to college.  It was the first
time we had ever been separated for more than a week.  I thought I'd
actually die for the first month.  But eventually I made some friends and I
got on with my life.  She came to visit me a couple of times and all my
male friends fell all over themselves trying to get her attention.  I could
see why.  She had matured even more and was now centerfold material.  She
had a steady, though, and it was serious, so none of my friends ever had a
chance.

   I talked to her about her intended.  She was studying computer science
and the guy was a physics major.  He'd already published three papers and
wasn't even out of undergraduate school.  She said he was "steady" and
"dependable" and would be a good provider for their children.

   It sounded bogus to me.  "Do you love him?" I said.

   She grimaced.  "The only male I've ever loved was you, and I couldn't
ever love anyone else that way.  I'm happy with him.  I like being around
him.  I respect him.  I think he's sexy.  What else can I say?"

   I thought about all that.  "What's he like in bed?"

   She bristled.  "That is none of your business.  What we do or don't do
behind closed doors is private."

   Now THAT was interesting.  What they do or DON'T do.  Why would she put
it THAT way?  I had a hunch.

   "So you don't actually KNOW what he's like in bed.  OK, does he know how
to fiddle your strings?  You know, like I used to do?"

   Now she was beet red.  "You are insufferable.  I don't think I like you
any more.  And besides, being a virgin isn't a bad thing.  He respects me.
That's all."

   This was obviously a tender subject.  I decided maybe I was being too
nosy.  I changed the subject, took her to dinner, fended off another ardent
suitor and she left.

   The next time I heard from her it was so she could tell me they'd set a
date for the wedding.  It was soon.  And she wanted me to do her hair for
the wedding.

   I met Roger, her intended, who was curious about why his fiancée wanted
me to do her hair.  I told him it was an old family tradition.  He said
that what with all his fraternity brothers wanting to be in his wedding he
didn't really need me to be a groomsman.  That was fine with me.  I didn't
like him much.  He seemed distant, somehow, and at the same time I didn't
like the way he looked at me.  I couldn't put my finger on it, but it was
like he was evaluating me ...  seeing if I was good enough to be his
brother-in-law or something.

   But Shawna insisted that I was the only person who could touch her hair
for the big day.

   So, on the appointed day I showed up with my kit of combs, brushes and
other accouterments of hairstyling.  I brought a suit, but wore shorts and
a T shirt to work on Shawna in.  I arrived at her dressing room to find it
full of giggling girls.  Well, women really.  They were all doing their
nails and cackling like a gaggle of hens does.  Shawna shooed them all out.
"I'm going to relax while my brother does my hair" she said.  "I need some
peace and quiet please."

   One of them, I later found out her name was Kim, looked me up and down
and said "When he's done with you I DEFINATELY want him to play with me ...
er my hair, I mean." That set them all off again and they left giggling and
chattering like magpies.

   They had no sooner left than there was a knock at the door.  Shawna
looked up and said "Don't say anything.  I'll explain later." Then she said
"Come in".

   It was a man, probably in his 40s.  He had a little black bag with him,
like doctors used to carry.  "I'm doctor Stevens" he said, like that meant
something.

   I looked at Shawna and she shook her head once.  "I'm ready" she said.

   The Doctor looked at me.  "Who's this?" he said.

   "This is my brother, doctor.  He'll be chaperoning this examination."

   The doctor shrugged and pointed to a day bed in the corner.  "If you
would recline there, please?"

   Again, Shawna looked at me and nodded her head "No" for me to keep
quiet. She was wearing a big fluffy white robe and her hair was damp, like
she'd just washed it.  She stood up and took off the robe.

   She was naked underneath it.

   Well, maybe not naked by definition.  She did have on lacy white
stockings, held on by a garter belt.  But no bra.  And no panties.

   Like it was the most normal thing in the world for a Bride to do on her
wedding day, she leaned back on the bed and spread her legs.  The doctor
opened his bag and took out a small flashlight and a silver tool of some
sort that had pliers type handles.  I recognized it as a speculum.

   He bent over and did a pelvic exam on my sister.  It only took a few
seconds.  He stood up and said "I'm convinced you are, in fact, a virgin.
Thank you."

   And then he turned around and left.  Shawna got up, locked the door, and
sat down at the dressing table.

   Shawna slumped in her chair.  "Finally, some quiet time.  I'm glad
you're here.  I've been looking forward to this day for years." That seemed
like an odd way to put it, but I didn't give it a lot of thought.

   "What in the nine hells was THAT?" I said.

   "Roger is very wealthy.  Or he will be when we're married.  It has
something to do with a trust or something.  He showed me the papers.  He's
required to marry a virgin to inherit the money.  His mother insisted that
there be a medical evaluation on the day of the ceremony."

   I was not happy.  "What a great family to marry into.  I'm sure you'll
be very happy.

   She looked at me with an almost pleading look in her dark eyes.  "Don't
you worry about my happiness.  I'll take care of that." she said.  She
leaned back.  "Make me beautiful" she said softly.

   I went to work.  What I did to her hair is not what this story is about.
But it was a masterpiece.  I worked in sprigs of baby's breath and
glittering zircons and sapphires and it ended up piled up.  She sat there
with her eyes closed most of the time, so I got to look at her grown up
breasts a lot.  They were heavier, and her nipples had darkened to a
chocolate brown.  I noticed those nipples were erect, and wished I could
suck on them again, like in the old days.  Of course I got a major woody.

   I pronounced her done.

   "Am I beautiful?" she said as she opened her eyes.

   "More beautiful than I have ever seen you." I said.  I meant it too.

   She turned around in her chair and put her hand on my cock.  "Hmmm, you
might be telling me the truth." Then she unbuckled my shorts and dropped
them.  I never wore underwear.  My boner bobbed in her face.  She gave it a
nice hard suck on the head and then stood up.  She grabbed said boner and
led me to the day bed.  Then she lay back on it - I noticed it was set up
with a neck pillow so her hair wouldn't be spoiled - and said "Show me how
beautiful I am".

   She spread her legs and pulled on my cock until it was clear she wanted
me between her thighs.

   Then it was clear she wanted me somewhere I'd never been before.

   I tested the waters, so to speak, with my finger and found there was
AMPLE lubrication.  She was as wet as a the bottom of a cup of water. 
"What about ..." I tried to say but she put a finger against my lips and
mouthed the words:

   "Fuck me".

   I only thought I was hard.  In reality I was copper before, but I was
diamond now.  She wanted to be skewered.  I skewered her.  Having just seen
a doctor confirm that her hymen was intact, I took it easy.  It probably
took me ten minutes to get fully sheathed in my sister's sweet untried
pussy.  I got to suck on those nipples again, too.  That's how I got all
the way in her.  Her pussy muscles were tightened up and the way I got them
to relax was to suck her nipples until she had an orgasm.  That relaxed her
enough for me to slide on in.

   Man, oh man.  I rode her like a cowboy rides a cow pony.  This way and
then that.  Go and then stop.  Hell bent for leather and then nice and
slow. I counted three times she made her distinctive "I'm cumming" sounds
before I had to let go.  I don't know if she wanted me to pull out or not,
but just thinking of Roger made me want to put my sperm in there before he
did.

   So, when I felt it rising, I just buried my bone in her belly and
spewed.

   And spewed and spewed some more.

   That was when I felt her red lacquered fingernails dig into my buttocks
and pull me even deeper into her.

   Exactly thirty-five minutes later, my twin sister walked down the aisle
to meet her new husband, with my sperm soaking into her womb.

   It was the best wedding I've ever been to.

   Turned out Roger was as queer as a three dollar bill.  All those guys in
his wedding?  His lovers.  His evaluation of me?  To see if I was worth of
his attention in that way.  He detested the idea of even seeing a woman
naked, and wouldn't even think of fucking one.  Not even in the ass!  Mamma
either didn't know, or at least thought that him marrying a virgin would
"cure" him or something.  He just needed a virgin, and she was the only one
he'd ever met!

   Which made everyone's surprise so much greater when her belly began to
swell.  Of course hubby wasn't the father, everyone knew that.

   But they couldn't very well admit that, now could they?

   And what drove them crazy was that ever since they'd been married she'd
been sequestered on his estate, so she couldn't tell anyone he was gay! 
They basically held her prisoner!  The staff was female, and none of the
boyfriends claimed fatherhood, so they couldn't for the life of them figure
out how this happened.

   His mother, bless her heart, was what undid everything.  She was livid.
It turned out she knew what her little boy was, and knew that his slut of a
wife had slept with another man.  She didn't care who that was, she just
wanted the whore gone.  She started talking about having the marriage
annulled on the basis that it was never consummated.

   Shawna pointed to her pregnant belly and said "Whatever do you mean,
mother?"

   Mother cursed and said it was some other man.

   Shawna said "You won't find any other man's DNA in this baby" and said
that if there was no DNA test she'd go public about everything.

   Mother, not understanding the intricacies of DNA testing, opted to buy
Shawna off.  Seeing as her virgin pussy had netted him the hundred and so
million bucks his grandfather had left him (and NOT to his mother- imagine
that!), they could well afford for Shawna to take five or six of those
millions, along with her no longer virgin pussy, and go live somewhere
else. They didn't care where.  In three years there could be a quiet
divorce (also stipulated in grandfather's will) and the family would be rid
of her.

   Which was fine with Shawna.

   She resettled in Phoenix, where the weather was nice.  She had room, she
said, for her dear brother to come and live with her, if he so desired.

   He did.

   By the time she got her divorce, Shawna had born three beautiful babies,
none of them twins, but all of which bore a remarkable family resemblance.

   Both she and I were happy at last.
   
