Which would turn out to be kind of ironic, even though Greg didn’t know that yet.
That old adage that the apple never falls far from the tree, certainly applied when it came to Greg Clemence. He may have been more emotionally connected to his mother, but he was, in so many ways, his father’s son. They looked alike, for starters. Both of them were tall and broad-shouldered. Ray had, despite all the vigorous exercise he was indulging in with Kim, developed the beginnings of a paunch. Greg, on the other hand, was in absolutely perfect physical condition. He’d also inherited a fair old cock from his old man.
It wasn’t just the looks; they shared a similar temperament. And he was also in possession of a gargantuan appetite when it came to chasing cunt. Like his dad, he loved to bone, and being a handsome young man, with charm to burn, Greg didn’t find it all that difficult to satisfy his needs.
Camping was almost a special codeword he and his buddies had, when they wanted to get laid. They’d head downtown, book a few rooms in a cheap hotel, and then hit the clubs. His friends were all good looking guys, so finding chicks to bang was never much of a chore. But he was numero uno in the pussy hound stakes, and they all knew it. He was the most handsome of them all, and he had a kind of charm and confidence the others didn’t share.
It was a Saturday night, the club was packed, and you could almost smell the testosterone and pheromones in the air. As soon as Greg clamped eyes on the two girls, he knew his target was set. His pals had sat back, quietly cheering him on as he made his move. Being a twin himself gave him a perfect in and soon enough the young women were like putty in his hands.
They were called Ruby and Angie. Apparently their parents were big fans of the Rolling Stones. They weren’t terribly bright, or terribly interesting. Truth be told, there were more attractive girls on offer in the room, but the tantalising prospect of nailing a pair of twins was all the inducement he needed. Sexually, they were much greater than the sum of their parts.
The three of them spent much of the night on the dance floor, their energy boosted by the pills Greg had bought from a sleazy guy in the restrooms. Before too long, the sisters were openly making out in front of a growing audience of aroused and excited onlookers. This was clearly one of their party pieces, a little bit of performance art they had no doubt been indulging in for years. Everyone clapped and whooped and hollered as their tongues met in a sloppy, frivolous union.
Eventually, with precious little prompting, Greg persuaded the two of them to return to his motel room. They explained to him quite earnestly that they were happy to fuck him separately, but they wouldn’t fool around with each other. This was an arrangement they had indulged in on numerous occasions before, and no one had ever offered any complaints. He readily agreed, happy to nail both of them, whatever the stipulations, but before too long the twin sisters were eating each other out with a familiar and well practiced relish.
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