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Use My Skin To Bury Secrets In

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“Carl and I had a row today,” Eve says. Hannah is reading on the bed, studying for their exam on Monday. 

“What about?” She asks, setting the text book aside and sitting up. The springs creak with her movement as she slides forward to the edge of the mattress, crosses her legs and tucks them under her. She’s in their white nightdress, the one with the lace around the hem and the buttons that go from throat to navel. Four buttons are undone, and her sharp clavicles and the flat of her breastbone between the gentle curve of her breasts is visible. 

“Us,” Eve tells her, gesturing between them. “Running hot and cold. One day we’ll fuck him and the next we’re full of excuses. He thinks we’re cheating.”    

Hannah is stricken, face going pale. “He doesn't! I - I can’t,” she says. “He’ll know.”

Eve sits on the bed, puts a comforting arm around her sister. 

“What are we to do?” Hannah asks miserably, relying, per usual, on Eve to handle their boy issues. 

Eve thinks for a moment, though the solution is obvious. She gets up, paces across the room. Their vanity is there, three-leaf mirror perched on white lacquered wood, dusting of rouge from their make-up brushes staining the table top and a cheeky hot pink lipstick mark on the mirror. Eve had left that there earlier that night, before she’d gone out. 

The lipstick she’d applied to her lips is gone now, worn away by a night with Carl in his parent’s back garden, but the mark on the mirror remains, disrupting Hannah’s reflection with its smeary pucker. Eve spies their hairbrush, the round one they use to tease their hair out, and the idea that’s been floating in pieces on the surface of her mind starts to take shape. She picks it up, pulls some hair from the bristles, lets it drift down to the carpet. She rubs her hand down the handle. It’s hard plastic, unyielding; it’s not soft or warm or slick. 

It won’t be easy if she doesn’t make it easy, and she wants to make it easy. She wants to make it good. It wouldn’t be fair if it had been good for Eve – and it had been – and not good for Hannah. That is one of their rules: fairness. 

She turns back to Hannah, hairbrush in hand. Eve doesn’t need to say anything, but she does anyway, nervous in a way she never has been around her sister, or around the idea of sex. 

“You’ll just have to lose your virginity, won’t you?” Eve says. “Then it’ll be easier. Then we can properly share.”

“It’s – it’s what makes sense,” Hannah agrees, voice a little shakier, a little higher pitched. Eve knows her heart is pounding, she can see her breath coming faster from the way her chest moves in and out, in and out, a quicker pace than normal. Eve’s heart is pounding too. 

“Lie back,” Eve tells her. “Let me.”

Hannah does, sliding back and laying her head on their pillow, dark hair fanning out across the blue floral linen. She lets her knees fall open, ready for Eve to come in between her legs. But, Eve climbs atop her, straddling her slim hips. 

“What are you doing?” Hannah asks, voice whisper quiet though there’s no need to be. Their parents are away for the night, busy with work as usual.

Eve doesn’t answer. She cups Hannah’s right breast in her hand and rubs her thumb over the soft nipple. It grows harder, and Hannah's breath hitches, catches in her throat same as Eve's. 

“Oh,” says Hannah, at the tail end of a breathless moan. “This is how Carl did you?” 

Eve was explicit in their diary about how Carl had touched her tits and kissed her, pushed her knickers to the side under her skirt and put his fingers inside her before fucking her. She wondered if Hannah had read that entry and touched herself. That they didn't talk about it, but Eve did the same with Hannah's entries, chaste as they were with just descriptions of him kissing her and feeling her up. In the attic, under the watchful eyes of their dolls, she'd work herself with her fingers until she came, aroused by the thought of Carl and how Hannah must have felt under his hands, how wet she must had been and how much she must had wanted.

“Yes, this is how we did it our first time,” Eve tells her, even though it’s not quite how it went with Carl. He never unbuttoned her shirt like she was doing now with Hannah’s nightdress, never peeled away the soft cotton from her sister’s skin like the tracing paper over the illustrations in their fairy tale books. She uncovers Hannah’s breasts and peaked nipples, rubs her hands over her warm skin and squeezes before coming back to the buttons. The buttons end and Eve doesn't linger, doesn't trace the soft skin or brush her fingers over the soft, sparse hair that grows in a tantalizing trail downward. She can't linger because that would be getting too off plot. Carl never lingered. 

Eve shifts position instead, now finding her place in the vee of Hannah’s thin legs. Her night dress is rucked up to her hips and Eve can see her knickers, and the small spot of wetness that has begun to soak through. She touches her tentatively, one finger skimming over the crease of her vulva, visible through the cotton, spreading the lips apart just slightly. Hannah bucks her hips and cries out in surprise. 

Her face is flushed and her eyes dark when Eve finally looks at her. She’s been focused on her nipples, her stomach, the wet fabric of her knickers, and she’s missed the desire that has crept onto her sister’s face, made her mouth fall open, slick and shiny with spit that Eve wants to lick away.

It’s like that first time they met face-to-face, and she’s both eager and afraid to touch her sister, afraid she’ll lose herself in her own reflection.

“Are you going to do it?” Hannah asks. She bites nervously at her bottom lip and Eve has to look away.

“Yes, I am," says Eve, reaching up to smooth Hannah’s bangs back from her forehead. Hannah catches her hand and clutches it to her cheek for too brief a moment, pressing soft kiss to the palm before letting go. Her hands fall back to the bed, fingers scratching at the sheets nervously, clutching at the thick duvet.

Eve finds the hairbrush lost in the messy folds of the bed covers. On a whim, she runs the plastic handle down Hannah’s slit over her knickers, causing Hannah to shudder. Then, she hooks her finger under the elastic of her sister’s knickers, brushing against the dark hair on her vulva, and pushes the damp fabric to the side. Their bodies are not foreign to each other, but this is the first time Eve has seen her sister’s cunt wet and swollen with need. 

Setting the hairbrush aside once more, Eve reaches out with her fingers to ensure Hannah is wet enough to endure the slide of the thick plastic handle into her tight cunt. Her index finger slips in between her damp, flushed folds, searching for her slick hole. She doesn’t stop when she finds the tight ring of flesh, and Hannah doesn’t stop her either. She presses inside and Hannah moans and meets her, wiggling her hips as Eve slides into the first knuckle, then the second. Hannah’s own hand spreads her lips apart and rubs her own clit as Eve fucks into her with her slim finger. 

"Wait," says Eve, pushing Hannah's hands aside and pulling her finger out to transfer the moisture from her cunt to her clit, to ease the slide of her thumb. "I said let me."

Hannah moans, thrusts up against her hand. Eve fits in another finger, crooking them up like she likes, causing Hannah to gasp and cry out in pleasure. They are the same in that way too. 

She pulls her fingers out and rubs some of her sister's slickness on the handle of the brush. It's not quite as thick as Carl, but it will have to do. When Eve presses it against Hannah, they both hold their breath for just a moment. 

Eve almost feels as if she's losing her virginity again; and as she presses the handle of the brush in, sliding it slowly in while Hannah gasps, Eve's own cunt throbs in tandem with her sister's. She throws her leg over Hannah's thigh and rubs against her with a moan, all the while thrusting the hairbrush in and out. 

The handle is slicked all the way up to bristles. Eve adjusts her grip so she can slip a finger in as well. The extra stretch makes Hannah moan and squirm, and she pants and arches her body, thigh rubbing harder against Eve's damp knickers. 

"Touch me again," Hannah begs, looking desperately at Eve. Her face is flushed beautifully, her small tits bouncing slightly, inside her vagina soft and wet and hot. Eve imagines that's what she must look like, what she must feel like, when Carl's fucking her and a wave of arousal almost doubles her over.

Eve does as her sister asks, however, rubbing two fingers over her swollen clit. She's eager to make her come, curious to feel the spasms of her orgasm around the stretch of the plastic handle and Eve's one finger, which is pressed just inside her.

When Hannah comes, it's with a soft whimper and one last thrust of her hips. Her vagina contracts and fills with more slick warmth. They'll have to work on the sounds she makes; Eve's always been quite a bit louder when they have no reason to be quiet. 

After the spasms subside, she pulls the brush out and drops it off the side of the bed. Putting her fingers in her mouth, she tastes her sister. She's salty and sweet, not at all bitter like Carl. But, Eve had always liked the way she herself tasted. It's no surprise her sister tastes the same. 

"What's that for?" Hannah asks, still sounding like she's catching her breath. 

"Make sure we taste the same."

"Of course we do," Hannah says. "Is that it?"

"Is what it?" Eve is still rubbing against Hannah's thigh, so close to coming but not yet there. 

"I've lost my virginity, haven't I?" 

"Mm, yes," Eve says, dropping her body so her arms bracket Hannah's ribs. "But, you need to learn how to sound more like me. Listen."

She moans and rides Hannah's thigh, watching Hannah's eyes grow darker with lust with every sound she makes. When Eve comes, it's this high-pitched desperate keen, not at all like what she normally sounds like when she’s with Carl. She too far gone to try and correct herself, breathing hard against Hannah’s chin.

Under her, the rabbit-quick pace of Hannah’s heart mirrors her own.