Twin Betrayals: (A Reluctant Hotwife)

by Sean Geist

  Chapter Two

  “Honey. Richard called me yesterday. He's gonna be in town for a few days and wanted to know if he could stay with us.”

  Richard, my brother, is a graphic artist who dabbles in photography and surfing; he's always flitting from one job to the next. We're opposites in almost every way. Where I'm careful, he's reckless; I'm analytical, he's creative. I went to university, he spent a year hiking through Europe before getting an associates degree at some community college back home. I plan, he goes with the flow. I'm married, and, last I heard, he's single.

  No two brothers, this side of Cain and Abel, who grew up together could be more different. And ironically enough, we're identical twins.

  “You told him yes, I hope.” Lauren liked Richard. She enjoyed hearing his stories of adventurous wanderings, all the people he'd met and the women he'd bedded. Sometimes, listening to her fawn over him made me jealous.

  “Maybe.” I did tell him he could stay.

  Lauren looked up from the sink. “You're still mad?”

  Last time he stayed with us, Lauren couldn't stop going on about how she wished I was more like my brother. I gave her the silent treatment the rest of the weekend.

  “You know I was kidding, right? Don't make me go over this again.”

  “Maybe I like hearing you say it.”

  “Roger. Dear. I love you, just the way you are. You're perfect. In every way. Never. Ever. Change.” It would have sounded a little more sincere if she wasn't rolling her eyes while she said it. “That make you feel better?”

  “Yeah.” Not really, but I wasn't really upset either.

  “So, did you invite Richard to stay with us or not?”

  “Of course, I told him yes. He is my brother after all.” And even though we were totally different, I loved him just the same.

  “Yes!” My wife squealed with just a little bit too much enthusiasm.

  Lauren spent the day of Richard's arrival frantically straightening up the townhouse. She changed the bed clothes in the spare room, cleaned out a few drawers in the dresser – forcing me to find another place to stash my collection of old Playboy magazines, one of which had a pictorial spread my brother worked on. He didn't actually shoot the pictures. He happened to be in Hawaii and lucked into a spot on the crew. That was one more reason for me to be jealous of Richard, jealous, but proud.

  After the house work was finished, my wife and I wound down with a glass of chilled white wine. I was drying the last of the silverware while Lauren leaned against the counter, next to me.

  “Excited about seeing your brother again?” My wife took a sip of her wine, her eyes gazed at me over the rim of her glass.

  “Yeah – sure I am. He's my brother.” It was a stock answer, one I didn't give much thought to. I guess I should have been happier to see Richard, but for some reason, my mind was otherwise occupied. It might have been work, or the Yankee's horrible season, or getting my passport in order for our upcoming trip to Costa Rica.

  “I don't believe you.”

  “Honey. I'm excited.” I paused for a moment. “Maybe not as excited as you, hell, excited is the wrong word. Yes, I'm looking forward to it.”

  “I can't wait to hear about his assignment at the White House.” From Playboy to Architectural Digest – my brother. “Wonder if he got to meet the President.”

  “I don't think so. I seem to remember—” Our discussion was interrupted by a knock on the door. Lauren quickly set her wine glass down and bolted for the foyer. Good thing I wasn't the jealous type.

  “Richard!” My wife greeted my brother with a nice big hug. “So glad you're here.”

  “So am I, Lar. So am I.” The two disengaged as I came in from the kitchen. A beer in one hand, my wine in the other.

  “Thirsty?”

  “You bet, bro.” Richard grabbed the beer and embraced me in a one-armed hug.

  “Wow. You look like you've been out in the wilderness.”

  Richard stepped back and ran his free hand through his thick bushy blond beard. “You mean this?”

  The last time I'd seen him, a few Christmas's ago, he was clean-shaven, like me. “Yes, I mean that.”

  “Nothing wild, Roger. Just thought I'd let it grow out.” He looked like a blond Grizzly Adams. His body buffed, his facial hair, a kind of mask. What it was hiding, I couldn't tell. “You like it?”

  I stood back and took him in. I squinted, rubbed my own, bare chin, playing up my evaluation.

  “Hm. Do I like it?”

  I may have been playing dumb, but I really couldn't decide. The mane of hair, his mustache and beard did make him look ruggedly handsome, a look I wasn't sure I could pull off, despite having the same genes. It was more an attitude. Plus it looked like he had been working out.

  I had been used to seeing my brother as my twin, but the man who stood before me looked nothing like the image I viewed in the mirror every morning.

  “Okay. Stop your hemming and hawing.” Lauren grabbed us both by the elbows and led us into the living room. “I like it. Makes your brother look distinctive. I won't have to worry about getting you two confused.”

  We three sat down and chatted. Catching up on what we'd missed in the year and a half since we'd last been together. We found out Richard was in town shooting concert stills for a little indie band that was opening for Regina Spektor at Radio City Music Hall. He designed their concert poster and web site so they kept him on for the beginning of their tour.

  “Did you ever get to meet the President?” My wife couldn't get over how my brother got to work at the White House.

  “Nah. She was at Camp David the day we were there. It was fun capturing the new style. You wouldn't believe what they did to the master bedroom in the residence.”

  “What?” Lauren did love her gossip, but I was also finding his story interesting.

  “Nope. Can't say. I signed a non-disclosure.”

  “But you got pics, right?”

  My brother smiled. “Had to turn them over to the Secret Service.”

  “Bull shit.”

  “We talking mirrored ceilings? Naughty art on the walls? After all we know how her husband is.”

  “Settle down, you two.”

  Our inquiries ended there. Richard refused to divulge what he saw and we let it drop.

  Lauren decided to move our discussion to the personal. “You seeing anyone right now?”

  “No. I move around too much. No time for long term engagements. Thank God for Tinder.”

  We finished our drinks and I showed Richard to his room while Lauren got started on dinner.

  “It's really good to see you again, bro.” My twin moved in for a big full-on hug and I reciprocated.

  “I know. It's just so, weird. Living such separate lives. I sometimes forget I have a twin out there and it's such a shock when we come face to face.”

  “We are far from normal Rog, even for twins, we are far from normal.”

  “Agreed”

  “Course we did pull our share of pranks as kids.” A sly smile broke out on Richard's face. “You remember poor Miss Olson.”

  A matching smile forced its way onto my face as I remembered the shit we pulled. “Yeah. I remember. That was third grade, wasn't it?”

  We shared a laugh along with the memory and I helped my brother get settled in. He was only staying two nights – another assignment was taking him away from us – so he didn't have much to unpack. I laid out a fresh towel and wash cloth and showed Richard the spare bathroom.

  “I do like your beard.”

  “Your wife seems to like it, too.” My brother slapped me in the gut.

  “You don't need to remind me.”

  “You really are lucky, bro. Lauren's a really nice girl. Smart and pretty. Wish I could find one like that.”

  “First. Stop calling them girls.” I was shocked how easily I slipped into giving advice on women to my brother.

  “I'm not an idiot, Roger. This is us talking. Brother to br
other.” Richard's voice honed to a serious edge. I could see by the look in his eye, the playfulness was gone, if only for a moment.

  “I know. You're right, I got really lucky when I found Lauren. Right place, right time.”

  “I envy you. I really do. I'd love to settle down. Find a girl, no, a woman, who'd put up with my busy schedule and my bullshit.”

  “What! My brother wants to give up fucking all the models and college interns?” It was my turn to do the gut punching. We rough-housed for a little bit, slapping and pushing each other around.

  “Who said anything about giving up fucking models and interns?”

  “You punch like a model.”

  “Not trying to hurt you.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Whoops.”

  Somewhere in all the tussling, the table lamp got knocked over and the bulb burst.

  “Boys! Don't make me come up there.”

  “Okay Mom.” We said it together, Richard and I, just like when we were fifteen, half a lifetime ago.

  We were having fun, laughing and all, but I couldn't help but be bowled over by the fact my brother seemed to be jealous of me. I had a stable life, true, and a wife I wouldn't give up for anything, but I'd be lying if I said I never dreamed about switching places with Richard, travel to all the exotic places, meet the rich and beautiful people of the world and take their picture. I'd love to travel and play, I just never found anyone to pay me to do it.

  Before I could slip further down that rabbit hole of what-ifs, Lauren called us down for dinner. The sound of her voice, grounded me, reminding me of the joy I had with my vanilla lifestyle.

  After dinner, Richard excused himself to head out to Radio City Music Hall to spy out the set-up for tomorrow night's show.

  “You and your brother were making quite a ruckus upstairs.” Lauren was setting the dirty plates in the dishwasher, while I was clearing the table.

  “Yeah.”

  “Everything okay between you two?”

  “Sure.” I kept working, but my wife stopped. I could feel her looking at me, glaring at my back.

  “Really?”

  I stopped and turned around to face her. “Yes, really. We were just wrestling. Seriously, Lauren.” I could feel my blood start to simmer. Something in me had ignited, jealousy of my brother's life and the knowledge he'd love nothing more than to settle down here, with a woman, not unlike my wife – maybe even with Lauren herself. My mind was wandering to dark places. I struggled to find the lighted path.

  “I know you're jealous over what I said earlier and still upset with me, no matter what you say.”

  I couldn't truthfully say she was wrong.

  “Ren, you're wrong.”

  “Your raised voice tells me otherwise.”

  “The truth. Richard's the one who's jealous.” A half truth.

  Lauren raised her eyebrow in doubt. “Jealous of who?”

  “Of me. My stable life. My smart and pretty wife. He told me.”

  Lauren took a quick breath – a look of mild shock on her face for a moment, gone in an instant, replaced by a smile. “He thinks I'm pretty, huh?”

  My wife looked off into the distance. I imagined she thought of a life wandering the world with Richard.

  Now it was my turn to get indignant. “Lauren!”

  My wife slowly turned to gaze back to me. Her look of contemplation morphing into a sly smile.

  “I love pushing your buttons,” She started poking her finger into my chest, my gut, my arms, “so easy to find.” She leaned in to give me a kiss on the cheek. “I love you silly and wouldn't swap our life for anything.”

  I knew that, but hearing her say it helped.

  “I just find it funny. My brother, jealous.”

  A sudden shiver rolled through my core. While I watched my wife continue loading the dishwasher I couldn't help but notice how aroused I was becoming. I knew part of it was due to looking at her lovely ass as she bent over, but I realized a small part was due to the thought of my wife living a bohemian lifestyle, finding her own fulfillment, with or without me. It hurt a little, but I couldn't deny it also felt mildly exhilarating.

  Like watching her masturbate, achieving her orgasm without me, without even thinking of me. It was a slap on the face, while my dick got sucked – conflicting feelings of pain and pleasure, coalescing into a new feeling – one with no label.

  Richard wasn't back by the time we went to bed. I was still strangely aroused from our after-dinner conversation and reached for my wife. I ran my hand down her naked stomach. I felt her chest rise and fall with each breath, her muscles randomly contracting as I neared my destination – her pussy. To my surprise, I found it occupied.

  Lauren had been silently rubbing her clit underneath the sheets. She let out a low deep sigh as my fingers joined hers.

  “Need any help?” It was a silly question – she obviously didn't.

  “No.”

  I was stunned by her answer. No word had ever caused such pain. My wife vocally denying my physical advances, while obviously being aroused. I was about to pull away when Lauren reached over with her free hand and held mine in place.

  “Need? No. Want? Very much so.”

  My gut unclenched. “You're right. I am too easy to tease.”

  “And I love you for it.”

  We stopped talking and continued our foreplay. My fingers delved deep between the slick folds of my wife's labia into the depths within, while she focused on her clit. Her climax was approaching. I could feel her muscles contracting. I leaned over and started suckling one of her tits.

  Lauren loved when I paid attention to her breasts, almost as much as I loved doing it. Her breathing became more shallow. I nipped gently at her nipples and this unleashed a flood of pleasure through her body.

  “Fuck.” Slap. “Fuuuuck.” Slap. “FFFFFFFukkkkk” Slap.

  Lauren twisted and turned, slapping her hands against the mattress. I kept working her erogenous zones. Mouth on breasts. Finger in pussy. Through her orgasm until—

  “Uhhh”

  The pleasure became too much and she pushed me away.

  I wrapped my arms around my wife and held her close as she came down from her climax.

  “Fuck me, that was good.”

  “I know. I heard it all.”

  “Now come here. I need you inside me.”

  I rolled on top of my wife and easily slid my erection into her pussy.

  “Oh god. That feels good. You feel good.”

  I started slowly thrusting, in and out, enjoying the sensation of my cock sheathed in her inviting pussy.

  Lauren was being very vocal as we fucked and I almost missed our doorbell going off.

  “Fuck. Shit.” I was getting close.

  “You didn't give your brother – oh – a key?”

  My cock was still inside Lauren when she mentioned Richard and I must have twitched. I didn't say anything. Neither did my wife, so the moment passed.

  “Forgot.”

  We separated and I got up and grabbed my keys off the dresser. Richard knocked again. I opened the window overlooking the street.

  “You know what time it is?” It was around midnight.

  “Night time.”

  “Some of us have to work tomorrow.”

  “So do I. You gonna come down and let me in?”

  “No.” I tossed the keys down and my brother caught them. “I'm not decent.”

  “You horny dog.”

  “See you in the morning.” I closed the window and went back to my wife. She was sitting up with her naked back against the headboard. The lights of the city at night played across her beautiful body.

  I crawled up the bed until I was face to face with her. “Now where were we?”

  “Your brother's here.” Lauren's arms – folded across her breasts – acted as barriers to my amorous progress.

  “So what?”

  “He'll hear us.”

  “Maybe,” I started kissing my wife,
on her cheek. “If we,” on her shoulder. “do it right.” I punctuated my words with a kiss and lick of her right nipple.

  With a yelp, Lauren slid down the bed, pulling me with her. She grabbed my hardened dick and aimed it between her legs.

  “Then let's get on with this.” And with that, we continued fucking. No less noisy then before.

  As we went at it, I imagined Richard standing at the door, watching. And a strange warm feeling spread through me. I could feel my climax quickly approaching and as my wife moaned my name, “Roger,” I imagined myself in Richard's place, watching, but instead of me it was my brother licking her nipples, grabbing her hips and penetrating Lauren, rocking back and forth between her outstretched thighs.

  “Ugh.” I exploded inside my wife, coating her pussy walls with my semen. I kept moving as my orgasm subsided. Lauren had a smaller, quieter, climax.

  We kissed and hugged in the post-coital bliss.

  “That was wonderful.” Lauren got off the bed and headed into our en-suite. She looked so beautiful – her naked ass, bathed in the dim city lights. She was oblivious to my dark thoughts – thoughts that haunted my dreams that night.

  Chapter Three

  The next morning I got up, took a quick shower, and headed down to brew some coffee. Lauren was just a bit behind me. Despite being up until the small hours, my brother had beat me to it.

  A hot fresh pot – minus a cup – beckoned me. Richard was sipping his, staring out the window into the small tile and concrete space we called a backyard.

  “I do love the city.” My brother's eyes caught mine in the reflection off the glass. He smiled. “Have a good night?”

  I returned his smile. “A very good night.” Keep it light, Roger, I thought to myself. I consciously had to fight the urge to slip into my dark fantasies.

  “So what's on your agenda today?”

  “Not much. I do have to be at the venue at three to shoot my client's sound check.”

  “Wanna stop by my office and have lunch?”

  “He can't.” I turned around to face my wife. She was dressed for work, in a grey jacket and knee length skirt over a frilly white blouse, with a pair of black flats on her feet and her hair held back in a pony tail. Overall a very conservative look, but open up a few button, hike up the skirt and let down her hair and she'd be something else all together.