I pulled in at the address Mary had texted me, and ambled up to the door, an oversized white shirt above my trunks, and a bag with beach towel, sunglasses, and sunscreen over my shoulder.
Mary opened the door with a smile. “Al! Good to see you,” she said. Curiously, she was wearing jeans for our ride to the beach! Not that I was complaining. The skin-tight fit of them showed off the eye-popping curves of her hips and thighs to excellent effect.
Suddenly, a thought occurred to me. I swept my eyes upward, managing with some effort to pass swiftly past the generously swelling front of her tight tee, to the side of her throat. No birthmark, just smooth, soft skin.
“Hello Maddie,” I said drily.
“Gotcha!” Mary’s sister laughed. The two were still practically indistinguishable, except for Mary’s birthmark, and they had always loved playing with people’s heads like this. “Damn, Al, you’ve grown like a son of a bitch,” Maddie went on, looking way up at me. “How tall are you?”
I shrugged and told her.
“Wow,” Maddie said, shaking her head. “Mary,” she called out loudly over her shoulder. “Sir Talls-A-Lot is here, if you want to finish up your royal preparations.”
“Coming,” growled Mary, entering the room. “Sir Talls…?” she started to say. “Wow, you did get tall.”
“You saw him last week, Mary,” snarked Maddie.
“He was sitting down,” snapped Mary back. The two had always snipped at each other. When they were sweet to each other, people said you had to be careful, because they were plotting something. “It’s kind of weird, looking up at your face,” she said to me.
Suddenly I was looking down at these two pretty, smiling faces, atop just absolutely killer, well-endowed bodies. It was apparent to me in spades that the hotness of attractive twins was multiplicative, not additive. Together, these two Tens weren’t a Twenty, but a Hundred. I stared a little too long.
“Getting a good look, there?” Maddie asked drily.
Shit! I quickly tried to cover for my ogling. “Sorry, It is just so weird seeing you two not dressed exactly the same.” They both laughed, graciously choosing to accept my cover story.
“Well, I’d look pretty weird wearing my bathing suit to the mall,” snorted Maddie. Just then, a horn honked outside. “Speaking of which,” she said, “that’s Shaniqua. See you later, you tall drink of water,” she said to me, and she dashed out, waving goodbye to Mary on the way out the door.
I looked back at Mary. She was wearing a flowy beach coverup made of multiple draping layers of colorful, filmy fabric, over what looked like a black one-piece swimsuit. The diaphanous outlines may have hidden exact details, but it still made it deliciously clear that this was one very well put together girl. They were two very well put together girls. I almost stared too long again. Almost.
“For the record,” I said sternly, “I recognized it was Maddie almost immediately.”
“Duh,” replied Mary. “The jeans gave it away.”
“No,” I admitted sheepishly. “It was the…” I realized that I was actually reaching out toward the mark in her neck! Had I been about to touch it? Jesus! I jerked my hand back, and covered for it by touching my own neck instead. “The mark. You did just remind me last week.”
Her eyes just twinkled and excitedly lead me to their garage.
“Maddie and I got a new Honda for Christmas,” she said excitedly. “Today’s my turn to have it. Let’s go.”
The car was indeed still cherry-looking on the outside, and the inside was sweet too, but potato chip crumbs and fossilized McDonald’s fries were already making a home on the floorboards. I eased in and put the passenger seat back to accommodate my legs.
I deduced that Carrie must have loved riding with her, because Mary sure had a lead foot. Somehow unmolested by state troopers, we were at the beach on less than forty minutes! On the way, as we peeled around one particular curve way too fast, I told Mary my thought about Carrie and speed.
“Oh, Carrie said you can drive pretty fast yourself,” Mary grinned, not slowing.
“I have a higher-performance car…” I started to reply snottily, then paused. “Wait. What else did she tell you?”
“Oh, you mean there was more to your date?” Mary cooed silkily.
“Hey! Um,” I stammered.
“Relax, dude! I’m just screwing with you. She did say you almost killed some cute deer, though.”
“The deer tried to kill us,” I growled. My faith in Carrie’s discretion being at least close to mine was restored.
We climbed out of the car near the old Coast Guard station that now houses some dot-com business or something, and made our way down to the sand. It was a gorgeous day, with no clouds, and it was hotter than was seasonable. Fortunately, it was a Tuesday, so the beach was not completely crowded, and we only had to walk about half a mile to reach an area that wasn’t totally packed.
We spread out our towels and I went to put on some sunscreen.
Mary stretched and slipped off her coverup.
Jesus.
Yes, she had on a plain black one piece swimsuit. But if you think that automatically meant boring… The back was almost completely bare, save for two one-inch strips curving up from her hips, along her flanks, and over her shoulder blades to a narrow band high around her neck. Lower down, the tight, smooth fabric barely covered more than half her tasty, round ass, her outer curves deliciously bare to the eye.
And the back was the modest side.
In front, it was cut really high over her rounded hips, and swept down in arching curves to narrow dramatically before plunging between those firm, round thighs. Above her waist, the front was held ‘closed’ by just two small silver clasps, one of which closed that high neck band just below her throat. The other clip was at the base of her sternum. That left two open ovals stretching wide, one above the other. The lower oval exposed a stretch of soft, flat abdomen, with a cute, innie belly-button framed perfectly in the lower third of the opening. The upper oval displayed an absolutely spectacular valley of cleavage formed by her voluptuous mounds. I was treated to the full sweep of her inner curves, from top, all the way down, through to the edge of some enticing underboob. As a bonus, she also spilled out more than slightly on the outside of the suit as well. Cleavage, underboob, and sideboob-this suit was every guy’s dream, except transparent.
Mary stretched and turned around slowly, looking about us on the beach. It was almost like she was making sure I could see every inch of her in that suit. I shook my head and tried not to stare too much. I looked around the beach myself as I rubbed sunscreen onto my ears. We had reached an uncrowded portion of the beach, but there were still other people in sight in all directions. Lots of girls in swimsuits, too. But they mostly just registered as blobs in my consciousness that day. All my visual processing power was devoted to Mary.
I was just done with protecting my face when she finally sat down on her towel next to mine. I slipped on my sunglasses. The pair I chose that day were super dark, and I knew from experience that girls could not see where my eyes were pointed when I wore them. I might have always been shy, but I have also always liked to look. I had figured that I would probably be looking a lot that day.
I started to cover my arms and shoulders with protectant, and Mary did the same, starting with her arms. When she got to her shoulders, she rubbed it in well, then damned if she didn’t pop that top clasp! The reduction in tension on the fabric of her suit resulted in the expansion of her cleavage into a truly eye-popping display. Thank God for the glasses.