Doppelgänger

“You using, lying, sack of shit! Don’t ever come near me again!”

Helena – aka my suddenly ex-best friend – picked up the skirts of her saloon girl dress and stalked away, leaving me standing there gawping after her like I was having an attack of the dumbs. Everyone at the faculty fancy dress party was staring at me like I’d just announced I had a tail, but they had to know that the woman was batshit crazy. I hadn’t laid a finger on her and had no intentions of ever doing so.

Drunkenly telling our friends that I’d eaten her out like a starving man eats cake was bad enough, but telling them right in front of me was even worse! I mean, I’d never even seen a pussy let alone put my face in one. Cock I’d been up close and personal with, and I’d had more than one butt banquet in my lifetime, but pussy was as foreign to me as Frenchmen.

But seriously, fuck Helena and fuck the stupid party, enough was enough.

Ruffling the white feathers of my shimmering angel wings, I headed for the front door. There was a crowd, and though I wondered why they were looking at me like I’d just performed the shadiest of magic tricks, I didn’t stop to ask why. I had haughty down to a fine art, and I swept out of there like a queen who had just given the order to behead them all.

I stopped at the end of the street, trying to decide which route home I wanted to take. On a normal night taking the front street was quicker, but not this night. Nope, there was a big party going on at the school I worked at, and it looked like it was just letting out. Pissed and angry isn’t a look those mommas would appreciate their kids’ teacher rocking, so I decided that taking the alley and heading into the back lanes was the way forward.

Once I hit the alley, though, I wished I’d buried my annoyance at Helena and braved the PTA crowd. It was so fucking dark I couldn’t see one foot landing in front of the other. It would be a miracle if I got to the other side without breaking an ankle on a rogue bin lid.

I went slowly, picking my steps carefully, so I was only halfway down the alley when I heard someone following. If I’d tried to run I’d have gone down like a newborn giraffe, so all I could do was throw out some bravado.

“I’m armed!” I yelled, lifting my iridescent gown so I could shuffle a bit faster. “If you come any closer I will cut you, I swear to God.”

“Will you really?”

Being impressed by my potential murderer’s voice imitating skills was probably the last thing I should have been doing, but he was good! He sounded exactly like me. Sarcastic. A bit superior. And totally not buying the threat I was trying to sell.

As expected, my ankle turned on a rubbish bag and I almost went down. Warm arms wrapped around me, stopping me before I could hit the ground. A bit of arm flapping ensued, and then a lantern with stained glass panels flickered on.

Woah, what the fuck was this?

I was facing a guy with shiny crow black hair, bottle green eyes, and clear skin. His arms looked strong enough to hoist my heavy ass off the ground and his shoulders looked broad enough to accommodate my thighs. The way he tick-tocked his head while he appraised me was unnervingly familiar, and so was the lip-biting smile.

Put quite simply, the guy was gorgeous. As soon as I acknowledged the fact in my head I felt like the most narcissistic sonofabitch alive. There I was, thinking that this guy was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. Accepting that I’d totally bend over for him right there in the alley if he asked me to. But I wasn’t even seeing him. When I looked at him I saw myself, because, right down to the mole beneath his right eye, we were identical.

Now, I knew my mother hadn’t given away my twin because I’d watched the video of my birth. My dad had recorded every gory detail, right down to my mother being carted off to the shower, so I was certain we weren’t blood.

But, Jesus, he might as well have been me.

As I took in his black angel wings and shimmering black gown, one of the giggled comments Helena made flashed through my mind. Something about me having to change my feathers cos I got lady-jizz on my costume when I ate her out.

But I didn’t have a chance to latch onto the thought.

The guy had placed the lantern on top of a skip and was walking toward me. He didn’t stop until his hard chest was flush with mine. I tried to back away, but he followed, steering me, leading me back to the dimly lit skip. When my back pressed against the cold metal and I didn’t try to escape, I knew exactly where this was headed.

“You’ve watched yourself jerk it in a mirror, right?”

Was there anyone left on Earth who hadn’t? I nodded, trying not to shiver when his lips lightly grazed my jaw.

“You’ve watched yourself fuck in a mirror, too, I’d bet? And I mean you looked at your reflection, not the reflection of whoever it was you were fucking.”

His hand curled around my cock and I moaned out a quiet, “Yes.”

So he knew I fancied myself. It wasn’t a crime, nor was it a secret. I’d long said that my ideal fuck would be myself, there was no shame in watching myself perform.

He stroked slowly, bunching up the white fabric of my gown so that it moved with my cock instead of against it. Fuck, he knew exactly how I liked it. Tight, long strokes that made my foreskin almost sting on the downstroke.

“Well, this is gonna be the best of both worlds. It’ll be like masturbating and fucking at the same time. Just keep your eyes open.”

What I should have done was scream stranger danger and run for my damned life, but did I have the sense to do it? Nope. Did I slap his hand away from my cock, put on my best offended expression and hiss, do you mind?! No, I didn’t. I didn’t even do the feeble, but we only just met bluff.

What I did was lift my lips to his as he lowered his face to mine, and moan at how silky fucking soft his – my – lips were. Oh God, he kissed like I did! I’d always wanted to find someone who licked the roof of my mouth just like this. Who sucked my tongue like it was my cock and bit my bottom lip until I protested. And that’s exactly what he was doing.

Our noses fit perfectly side by side. His hands were the ideal size to cup my cheeks. Those long index fingers of his rested in the hollows beneath my ears, stroking so softly I felt each tickle on my earlobe like a slap on the head of my cock.

We kissed noisily. Wet smacking, breathless panting, needy moaning. The sensation of his hand wrapping around my naked cock was the most bizarre thing I’d ever experienced. It was my hand, but the wrong way around. It held on just as tightly, stroked just as slowly, but the thumb tickled my frenulum from the wrong side.

My hand snaked beneath his black gown and his hiss made me wonder if he was feeling the same. If my thumb was on the wrong side of his cock. If he felt it, it didn’t seem to bother him. He was happy enough to rock his hips back and forth, fucking my fist, just as I snapped my hips so I could fuck his.

He pinched my nipples. I bit his throat. He grabbed both of our cocks and shook his wrist until my mind reeled and my legs trembled. This would all have to change in a minute. Wanking we could do in tandem. If we were inclined to lie down in the shitty alley – or if we knew how to do a handstand – we could even suck cock at the same time. But from the moment I chose not to run away I’d known this would end with sex, so one of us would have to give in and bend over.

Of course it was going to be me! I had an amazing cock and I was an incredible fuck, there’s no way was I going to miss the opportunity to experience myself.

Faux Me grabbed my hands and made me hold onto the edge of the skip. Just as I’d thought he would, he lifted me like I weighed nothing. He spat on his hand. So did I. Heart pounding in my throat, I pressed my lips together and waited until I felt the blunt head of his cock at my ass. One push. Two. Three.

“Aah, fuck!”

We both cried out at the same time. Was this weird for him? Feeling how tight his own ass was around his cock? Feeling his balls slapping off his own cheeks? My eyes were rolling, my chest was aching, and I was crying, just a bit. Mind blown was the only way to describe how I felt. That and a bit – okay, a lot – proud of how fucking good my cock was. I fervently hoped that all those asses it had been in knew how lucky they were.

It was obvious Faux Me was about to come. I knew it as soon as he grabbed my dick and started to frantically pump his wrist. I only ever touched cock when I was about to blow and didn’t want to be the one to go first.

He met my eyes and I could see it. Bull-headed fucking defiance. “This should be interesting,” I gasped. He didn’t want to be the one to come first, either.

It went on and on, which was fine by me cos it felt so good. I wanted to come. Could feel it in the tightness of my balls and the spasms in my ass. I wasn’t about to let myself be beaten by myself, though. And I had the upper hand because my ass was the one with a dick in it.

I flexed my thighs. Tightened my muscles until I could see the effect the squeeze had on him. My shoulders burned with effort but I pulled myself up and moved my hips so I could fuck him as hard as was possible.

“No,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes closed.

I kept right on riding him, wriggling my ass, squeezing harder, growling in that deep, aggressive tone that gets me every time.

“No!” A bit louder this time. His fingernails dug into my chin and his angry eyes bored into mine.

A few more overenthusiastic thrusts and I barked out, “Yes!” just as he cried, “NO!”

With a defeated moan and a shudder, he came deep in my ass. Victory was mine. I watched my cock spray spunk all over his glittery gown and wondered how this surreal moment would end.

Faux Me lowered my legs. Once I was standing on my own he crouched down and licked what was left of my orgasm right off the tip of my cock. He smacked his lips then backed away, and as he went the light started to fade.

“You’re as good as you think you are,” he said. “But Helena tastes better.”

6 thoughts on “Doppelgänger

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *