Twins Double Trouble

Twins Double Trouble

It wasn’t supposed to happen. Twins are pretty rare: about three percent of the population. Identical twins are much more rare, about 0.3%. And when there are identical twins born, 99.9% of them are of the same sex. But my sister and I are identical twins, and I am a guy. That’s right. Identical twins, one male and the other female. We don’t like to think of ourselves as freaks of nature, but I guess in a way, that’s what we are.

Enough with the boring numbers stuff. I should make proper introductions. My name is Michael. Just call me Mike. My sister is Makayla. My sister is older than me. By seventeen minutes. She likes to tease me on our birthday. For a few minutes she is a year older than me. We do look a lot alike, but you wouldn’t have any trouble telling us apart, now. We both have thick brunette hair, but I keep mine fairly short. About like most guys, I guess. But Makayla has beautiful flowing hair that reaches more than half way down her back. Normally she just has it in a ponytail, but when she wants to dress up, she gets me to do French braids for her. Her lips are fuller than mine, her cheeks a little rounder, and she has developed breasts on her chest, which of course I lack. They are a size B, but they still make her stand out from me. We still like to dress alike, but my pants have a bulge in the crotch that Makayla does not have. I think you can guess why. We are both pretty tall, but I stand about two inches taller than Makayla.

It wasn’t always so. Before age eleven or twelve, even our parents had a hard time telling us apart. We both noticed that people who knew us would look at our crotch to tell us apart, once we were out of diapers. Even our parents would check for the bulge. Neither one of us liked it when people did that. We could both be ornery. Once, Makayla put a sock in the crotch of her pants as a prank. Mom then sat Makayla down on a bar stool and said, “It’s time you got a little boys haircut.” Mom thought she was giving the haircut to me because of her ‘sock bulge.’ We both got our laughs out of that one.

Part of the reason for the increased difference in our appearance, now, is the hormone treatments that Makayla gets. It’s due to a genetic flaw in the females of identical twins of mixed sex. The doctors started the hormones for her at about age thirteen. They say that we would still look alike if it were not for that. This treatment is causing some unwelcome changes, as far as Makayla is concerned. I thought about asking the doctor to give me the same hormones, but Makayla talked me out of it. She says that they make her feel awkward about her body. I think she looks great.

Of course, I had awkward changes of another sort. I am growing hair all over. Dark hair is sprouting in my armpits, on my chest, around my crotch and on my face. I have to shave every morning. I feel horny like never before, waking up most mornings with a raging hard-on. And I notice that the bulge in my pants is not so small, anymore. Judging from what I observe in the boys locker room at school, I am a little bigger than most guys my age. My voice became squeaky for a while, but has become a mellow baritone, now that we are in high school.

We have always been each other’s best friend. In fact, because we are so close, we don’t have many other friends. We both like the same things. Our opinions on most issues are the same. We have been accused by our teachers of cheating, copying each other’s school work. They just don’t get it. We are not cheating, we just think alike. It is uncanny, even to us. Last semester, one of our teachers conspired to separate us into separate classes at school. I went to math class when Makayla was in civics. I took Spanish while Makayla did math. We were miserable and our answers were still the same.

Dating is a bit of a problem. Our parents have talked to us separately about dating. They are concerned since we don’t have many outside friends. Not that either of us has any problem attracting the opposite sex. We are both pretty good looking, I guess. But I feel anxious when Makayla is away on a date. She sends me texts several times during the evening, which annoys her date. Once she excused herself to go to the ladies room as an excuse to call me. As soon as she gets home, she tells me all the details about their evening and everything about the guy she goes out with. I am the same way when I go out with a girl. Intellectually, we know that we need to choose a mate outside the family some day, but I cannot connect with a girl in the same way that I connect with Makayla.

Sometimes we wonder why we can’t be together. The doctors have said that Makayla is sterile and cannot have children. Isn’t the only problem with sibling marriages related to increased birth defects? But all of the people around us say that it just can’t be. We have seen each other naked a lot, since we do almost everything together. There has been nothing sexual about it, until lately. We will explore that later on. I guess we spent the first nine months of our lives, spooning each other naked. Of course we don’t remember any of that, but it had to have affected us in some way. We shared a bedroom until we were nine. Even now, Makayla comes into my bedroom whenever she likes and I go into hers. Whenever we need to talk, we just go right in, even into the bathroom, even if one of us is bathing. If no one else is home, we shower together.

Once, I went to Makayla’s room around midnight. We talked for an hour and a half and I ended up falling asleep in the bed with her. In the morning, mom came in to wake Makayla and found me in bed with her. She blew up and got hysterical. I thought she would have a coronary. Dad came in and calmed her down when it was obvious we hadn’t done anything but talk. Now we are more careful, more discreet.

We have always had some curiosity about each other’s bodies. We are not shy to talk about them or ask questions, especially about the parts that make us different. She lets me touch her boobs, once in a while. I think that she has Goldilocks tits. You know what I mean? Just the right size. They are a neat little handful, each. She says it feels nice, the way I touch them. Sometimes she asks to touch my penis. I think she is fascinated with how it grows when it gets attention.

Since Makayla is on hormone therapy, we look somewhat alike but at the same time, very different. Makayla still does not mind me seeing her, and dresses in front of me without being self conscious and I do the same with her. Now that we are older, we find that we have to be careful with what we say or do. We sense that some people, including our parents, get weirded out by how we are when we’re together.

Being the age that I am, my hormones are raging. I enjoy sports and fast cars. Makayla seems to get a little of that, just from being with me. She is more of a tomboy than most of the other girls. In turn, I probably pick up just a little of Makayla’s feminine graces. But make no mistake, I am all man. I can get very aggressive with the other guys at school, and no one pushes me around. Even though Makayla is a tomboy, she loves to get dressed up in pretty clothes and is an expert with makeup. That is probably because I give her feedback on what I think looks nice, and she trusts my judgment. While many girls her age look garish and fake with their makeup, Makayla looks great. She has that girl-next-door look.

An alarming thing happened to me when I was fifteen or sixteen. I woke up with the strangest sensation, after having a peculiar dream. I had been dreaming about doing sexual things with Makayla, woke up feeling all weird, and discovered this thick, sticky gunk all over the inside of my shorts. I was ashamed and didn’t tell anyone for two or three days. Makayla sensed that something was troubling me, and she finally got me to tell her what happened. I did not tell her that my dream was about her. I just told her that the dream was sexual, in nature. Later I found out that what happened is called a wet dream.

Likewise, when she had her first period at age thirteen, I was the first person she told about it. I learned to masterbate when I was sixteen. It is not something that I have talked much about, even with Makayla. I guess that’s because I am a little ashamed about it. But the first time that I masterbated and ejaculated, I was so excited I had to tell someone, so of course I told Makayla. She seemed thoughtful when I tried to describe what happened. But really, how can you describe something like that?

I asked Makayla if she ever touched herself down there, and she said that she did, sometimes. She said that she isn’t sure if she is supposed to or not. I encouraged her to experiment and see if she can ejaculate, somehow, like me. When she dresses in front of me, I note that she is growing a nice bunch of light brown hair in her crotch. Also, the tissue around her slit is gaining more definition.

***

Makayla:

Hi, I’m Makayla. Mike told you a little about us, but his view is skewed. You see, Mike is the dominant one, especially since age fourteen or fifteen. He has become so aggressive, he almost scares me, sometimes. He has never been forceful or gotten angry with me, but he has a way of getting what he wants. I get tired of everyone not being able to tell us apart, so I would like to do things to distinguish myself, but Mike won’t hear of it. He always wants me to dress like him. He even tries to tell me how to do my makeup. I know he means well, but I would like to experiment, sometimes. I want to date guys and make other friends, but Mike is so possessive. When I am on a date with a guy or just hanging out with my friends, he insists on keeping tabs on me. If I fail to check in with him, he will check on me. Don’t get me wrong, I love Mike and appreciate him as my brother. He does so much for me and is very protective, and we really are a lot alike.

Even though he can be aggressive, I worry about how he is with the girls he dates. He is such a pushover with girls. Some girls ask him to do things just to manipulate him. And if they turn on the tears, he turns into putty. They take advantage of him and get him to do things he otherwise would not do. When he is on a date and checks in with me, I have to encourage him to be assertive enough. He doesn’t realize that girls don’t like guys that are pushovers.

Last year, I secretly got my advisor at school to assign Mike and I to different classes, to get some relief from him. Mike was miserable, and made me miserable checking in on me at every opportunity. Since we have been so close and shared nearly everything all these years, being nude in front of each other was no big deal. But since I have started on hormone therapy, my body has changed. I am not crazy about the changes. My hips have gotten wide and my boobs have been growing. I am less comfortable with Mike seeing me naked than I used to be. Not only that, but as we get older, I don’t like the way Mike looks at me. He has a hungry look.

Once, I let him touch one of my boobs. Up until that time, we had never touched each other’s body in a deliberate way like that. As time goes on, he wants to touch my boobs, more and more. Not sure how to feel about it. On the one hand, it does feel really good. On the other hand, it seems naughty, like something we shouldn’t be doing. I really don’t know what the big deal is about them. They are just bags of fatty tissue. He occasionally talks about masterbating and ejaculating, which just freaks me out. He has been trying to talk me into masterbating, myself. I do touch myself, sometimes, but I really don’t want to talk to Michael about it.

When I think about a romantic partner, I would like to experiment. Mike thinks that we are so much alike, that we have to be together. I see where he is coming from, but sometimes I think it would be better to be with someone who thinks differently than me. I think that having a partner who is different would allow us to compliment each other, having different strengths and weaknesses. On the other hand, I love my brother a lot. I cannot imagine being without him. And strangely, I find that I am sexually attracted to him. When I fantasize about doing things with a guy, I find myself fantasizing about being with Mike. It’s complicated.

***

Mike:

As we get older, Makayla and I seem to be drifting apart. At least we are having more arguments. Nothing very big, but we used to think so much alike, that we never used to argue at all. Now that Makayla is on hormones, she can be so moody. It’s not just my opinion, she has noticed and makes mention of it, too. She cries more easily than she used to, and I get the feeling that she is holding back and doesn’t tell me everything. She gets frustrated with mom over the smallest things. She seems to be either over the moon happy or moody and depressed. It makes me feel bad for her. I just want her to be happy.

Mom is not handling the changes too well, either. It seems like mom is getting more moody, along with Makayla. She is working late more often and it feels like she is not at home very much. She cooks less for the family. Dad tries to pitch in, but he is a lousy cook. Makayla and I have been doing more cooking together, which is something that we both enjoy.

Friday night, mom is working late again. She comes home after supper, and Makayla reheats some of the lasagne that we had at dinner for her. When mom is about done eating, dad asks that we all gather in the kitchen. The way he says it, feels ominous.

We all sit at the kitchen table. Makayla and I look at each other, not having a clue what this is all about. Mom is looking down at her plate, idly making figure eights in the residual tomato sauce from her lasagna with her spoon. I can tell that her mind is a thousand miles away. Dad begins, “Your mom and I have something we need to talk to you about.” He looks at mom, then looks down at the table. Looking up again, he sighs before continuing. “We have some bad news to share with you. There’s no easy way to say this, so I will just say it. Your mother and I have decided to separate. We are getting a divorce.”

Dad could not have surprised or hurt me more if he had punched me. I didn’t see it coming. Dad looks about as sad as I have ever seen him. I look at Makayla and she is just as stunned as I am. Tears are welling up in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over. Seeing her hurting makes my heart sick. Then a question occurs to me, where does this put Makayla and I? Do we stay with mom? Or do we stay with dad?

Then mom looks up and begins to speak. “I know it seems hard right now, but it will be for everyone’s good, in the long run.” She pauses for a moment before going on.