Claudette could have been my twin. We had the same raven black hair and brown doe eyes. The same full lips perfect for a coquettish pout. And we had a tight butt -- so nice, God made it twice. Our pussies looked exactly alike, but mine got wet quicker. Especially when she touched it.
Claudette was a little taller than me. My cheeks a bit fuller. But we were able to mask our differences by using the same lipstick and makeup. Identical bangs. We even had the same wardrobe. Everyone called us “the twins” and we delighted in convincing strangers we actually were twin sisters. Everyone believed. Even me.
As kids, we were inseparable. Her family moved next door when I was four. We became immediate best friends. Like me, she was an only child, so the idea of adopting each other as sisters seemed inevitable. Over the years, we had spent so much time together we could finish each other’s sentences and shared so many private jokes it sounded like we were speaking in our own special code.
The first time we fucked started as a goof. We were freshmen in college and Marshall, my first real boyfriend, had become obsessed with sleeping with both of us at the same time. It wasn’t that radical an idea. Marshall had a great body, and Claudette and I had often joked about doing a threesome. So on Marshall’s 19th birthday, we all finished a bottle of tequila and got on his bed.
