It wasn't a typical visit to my mother's house on this particular day. We're both 22 now, and since my twin sister and I graduated from high school we had only seen each other a few times. We never really got along because our mother always gave her special treatment. I was always being reminded that she only wanted one child and I was the second born, so I wasn't loved anywhere near as much. A few months ago I had received an invitation to my sister's wedding and I was sure that I wasn't going. The 'emergency' call from my mother changed that plan entirely.
I pulled into the driveway and before I had the chance to knock on the front door my mother was ushering me inside. "Thank goodness you came! I wasn't sure that you would!" she exclaimed.
"Well I understood this was an emergency, so I rushed over as quickly as I could. Is everything okay? What's the emergency?" I replied.
"It's your sister," she said, "She's sick and won't be able to attend her own wedding!"
"That's the emergency?" I asked with an annoyed tone. "What am I supposed to do about it?"
"Well, I think you sister should answer that. She has an idea."
We walked to my sister and my childhood room and, tucked up in bed, she laid there.
"Hello, Sarah." I said to her, "So apparently you're sick?"
"Hi, Simon," she sickly replied with a smile, "I'm glad you could make it!"
"Apparently I'm supposed to be able to help you. What is it exactly that I'm meant to do?"
"The wedding is in a few days, and I want you to take my place at the altar."
My jaw dropped. Despite being male-female twins we have always look extremely similar, even to the extent that I had grown out my blonde hair. We were both 5' 8'' and, unfortunately, never quite muscular. When we were younger I had dressed in my sister's clothes, once or twice, to get more love from my mother. But being a heterosexual, I hadn't done it since. What she was asking was too much.
"You're out of your mind! There's no way I'm doing that!" I exclaimed.
"But please! All the guests have arrived and I would hate for them to have come all this way for nothing! And besides, I have spoken to my fiancé and he is willing to go with it."
"I am not taking your place. I am a guy. I am not going to wear a dress and humiliate myself!"
"I will make it worth your while!" she said.
"How?" I replied.
"Money."
I thought about it for a moment. Money is something that I am lacking right now. And it would only be for a day. I could then take my money and never be seen again.
"Fine, I'll do it. But I want the money upfront."
"Deal!" my sister said, and we shook, "Time for you to get ready!"
* * * * * * *
The next day I returned to my mother's house and met Paul, my sister's fiancé. He thanked me for my help and after looking in on my sister one last time he left because the groom isn't supposed to see the bride before the wedding.
I was told to go to the bathroom and shave all the hair from my body, leaving only my long blonde locks. After this process, which took longer than I had hoped, my mother plucked my eyebrows to get them looking more feminine. The cool air in the house felt weird on my body, having never felt this naked in my life. Next came the bit that I was dreading the most: getting dressed in my sister's wedding outfit.
"We bought some things in the expectation that you would say yes," my mother explained as she held up a pair of white lace panties and a pair of silicon breasts, the latter of which were a B cup, the same size as my sister's boobs. "We also looked on the internet for the technique called 'tucking' to hide your junk."
I excused myself into the spare room and began to put on the panties, performing the 'tuck' as was described to me. I was surprised by the feeling of the material on my skin. It was oddly arousing, and made me wonder if it felt this way when I was younger. When I looked in the mirror it looked, at worst, like a large clitoris, and not a guys junk. I went back to see my mother and she helped me with the white lace bra and breast inserts which gave me the illusion of curves. I was then instructed on how to put on the white stockings and then put the garter on my leg. Next came the heels; these were five inch stilettos that were extremely hard to walk in. I was told to walk with one foot directly in front of the other, and walked around the house a few times to get used to them. The last bit of clothing I had to try on was the dress. I was informed that it was a ball gown type dress, and I could see the sequins on the torso. I stifled my look of astonishment at how good it looked and then how good it felt when I was helped into it. I was ready to see how I looked in it, but my mother told me I had to have the makeup and hair done before that happened. I managed to sit on a stool in the middle of the room and she put some of my hair into a bun whilst leaving some to hang down the back of my neck. She then applied things she called eye shadow, mascara, blush and lipstick. Lastly, the wedding veil was placed on my head.
Finally, I was allowed to see what I looked like and I almost fell over. Staring back from through the mirror was definitely my sister. It took me a while to realise that it was me, and a big grin stretched across my face. I looked over at my mother and she looked equally pleased with her hands clasped together. We went to show my sister, and she screamed with delight and how good I looked. "Oh my god! You look perfect! You're going to make a better bride than I was supposed to!" she exclaimed.
"I don't know. I might look the part, but I don't know if I can act the part." I said, worriedly.
"I'll help you with that," my mother told me, "We still have a couple of days to get you ready."
* * * * * * *
The wedding day arrived and I was more nervous than I think a normal bride would be. The only people who knew about this scheme were my sister, my mother, Paul and I. This made me doubly nervous that someone would find out. After the couple of days that I had preparing, I was just hoping that it would be enough to fool people. The last bit of information that I got from Sarah was to watch out for Paul because he may forget that I'm not her. Being unsure how to take that statement, I got ready and we made our way to the venue.
The ceremony went along perfectly. However, as it drew towards the end, I realised what happens after he pronounces us 'man and wife'. Before I knew it, that moment was upon us and without warning Paul leaned in and started to kiss me. After the immediate shock, I began to realise I liked it, and kissed him back. Then, hand in hand, we left the venue and got into the car that would drive us around before taking us back to the venue for the reception.
In the car I felt so happy and I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. It felt so good to be so feminine that I almost forgot I wasn't Simon. I didn't realise that Paul and I were still holding hands, but when I did I shyly took mine away. He smiled and said softly, "That was a wonderful thing you did today. Sorry about the kiss, but I did have to sell it. And to tell you the truth, I rather liked it."
"It's quite okay," I replied, "I rather liked it as well."
I leaned across, and he held me in his arms until we reached the reception.
The reception went quick and before I knew it we were up performing our wedding dance. We swayed with my head on his chest and his hands around my waist and stayed for what I hoped would be an eternity. Unfortunately the song ended, though he kissed me again and we left the reception to a raucous applause.
We reached the hotel where we were supposed to wait out the night before returning to our normal lives the next day. When we got to our room, Paul threw me onto the bed before jumping on top of me and kissing me more deeply than he had done before. We kissed for a few minutes before I became unsure where this was going, so I pushed him off slightly.
"Remember that I'm Simon who you're currently trying to elope with. Are you sure you want to continue?" I asked.
"I don't care that you're not exactly Sarah, but from where I am, you are her. You're the perfect substitute and I am not stopping now."
With that he tore off his shirt and unbuttoned his trousers, putting his rock hard, 8 inch cock in my face. Without hesitation I took it in my hand and caressed it gently, stroking it ever so slowly. As he moaned in pleasure a small amount of pre-cum seeped from the head and I licked it off to more moans of pleasure. I then began to kiss and lick all over his cock and balls before he grabbed my head and forced his cock deep into my mouth. Surprisingly, I didn't gag, and I could feel his pubic hair tickling my face. He face-fucked me for a few minutes before suddenly pulling out.
"Don't stop!" I cried.
"Baby that was the best blowjob I have ever had, bar none. But I don't want to finish in your mouth; I have somewhere else in mind to empty my load."
He began to kiss me again, and at the same time he gently removed my dress. He used his teeth to remove the garter from my leg; then, knowing where this was going I rolled over onto my stomach. He pulled off my panties and my little hard cock was freed, but Paul didn't notice as he pulled me up onto my hands and knees. With his cock still lubricated from my saliva and his pre-cum, he teased my hole before slowly pushing it in. I allowed myself to relax as he began to push himself further and further into my ass. When his balls reached my ass cheeks he started to thrust in and out with increasing vigour. I screamed in pleasure as his cock hit my G-spot over and over again. I could feel the cum about to explode from both our cocks and in a chorus of moans we both came. I felt the warmth of his sperm in my ass with each spurt that he released. Then he pulled out and we both collapsed on the bed.
"That was the best sex I have ever had," I confessed to Paul, "And I'm not even gay!"
"You and me both, Simon. Or should I call you Sarah?" he teased.
"Maybe you should call me Sarah. That is, whenever we do this again." I said.
"It's a date!" he replied.
I fell asleep in his embrace with no care about what the new day would bring, just hoping for another chance to be with my husband.
I pulled into the driveway and before I had the chance to knock on the front door my mother was ushering me inside. "Thank goodness you came! I wasn't sure that you would!" she exclaimed.
"Well I understood this was an emergency, so I rushed over as quickly as I could. Is everything okay? What's the emergency?" I replied.
"It's your sister," she said, "She's sick and won't be able to attend her own wedding!"
"That's the emergency?" I asked with an annoyed tone. "What am I supposed to do about it?"
"Well, I think you sister should answer that. She has an idea."
We walked to my sister and my childhood room and, tucked up in bed, she laid there.
"Hello, Sarah." I said to her, "So apparently you're sick?"
"Hi, Simon," she sickly replied with a smile, "I'm glad you could make it!"
"Apparently I'm supposed to be able to help you. What is it exactly that I'm meant to do?"
"The wedding is in a few days, and I want you to take my place at the altar."
My jaw dropped. Despite being male-female twins we have always look extremely similar, even to the extent that I had grown out my blonde hair. We were both 5' 8'' and, unfortunately, never quite muscular. When we were younger I had dressed in my sister's clothes, once or twice, to get more love from my mother. But being a heterosexual, I hadn't done it since. What she was asking was too much.
"You're out of your mind! There's no way I'm doing that!" I exclaimed.
"But please! All the guests have arrived and I would hate for them to have come all this way for nothing! And besides, I have spoken to my fiancé and he is willing to go with it."
"I am not taking your place. I am a guy. I am not going to wear a dress and humiliate myself!"
"I will make it worth your while!" she said.
"How?" I replied.
"Money."
I thought about it for a moment. Money is something that I am lacking right now. And it would only be for a day. I could then take my money and never be seen again.
"Fine, I'll do it. But I want the money upfront."
"Deal!" my sister said, and we shook, "Time for you to get ready!"
* * * * * * *
The next day I returned to my mother's house and met Paul, my sister's fiancé. He thanked me for my help and after looking in on my sister one last time he left because the groom isn't supposed to see the bride before the wedding.
I was told to go to the bathroom and shave all the hair from my body, leaving only my long blonde locks. After this process, which took longer than I had hoped, my mother plucked my eyebrows to get them looking more feminine. The cool air in the house felt weird on my body, having never felt this naked in my life. Next came the bit that I was dreading the most: getting dressed in my sister's wedding outfit.
"We bought some things in the expectation that you would say yes," my mother explained as she held up a pair of white lace panties and a pair of silicon breasts, the latter of which were a B cup, the same size as my sister's boobs. "We also looked on the internet for the technique called 'tucking' to hide your junk."
I excused myself into the spare room and began to put on the panties, performing the 'tuck' as was described to me. I was surprised by the feeling of the material on my skin. It was oddly arousing, and made me wonder if it felt this way when I was younger. When I looked in the mirror it looked, at worst, like a large clitoris, and not a guys junk. I went back to see my mother and she helped me with the white lace bra and breast inserts which gave me the illusion of curves. I was then instructed on how to put on the white stockings and then put the garter on my leg. Next came the heels; these were five inch stilettos that were extremely hard to walk in. I was told to walk with one foot directly in front of the other, and walked around the house a few times to get used to them. The last bit of clothing I had to try on was the dress. I was informed that it was a ball gown type dress, and I could see the sequins on the torso. I stifled my look of astonishment at how good it looked and then how good it felt when I was helped into it. I was ready to see how I looked in it, but my mother told me I had to have the makeup and hair done before that happened. I managed to sit on a stool in the middle of the room and she put some of my hair into a bun whilst leaving some to hang down the back of my neck. She then applied things she called eye shadow, mascara, blush and lipstick. Lastly, the wedding veil was placed on my head.
Finally, I was allowed to see what I looked like and I almost fell over. Staring back from through the mirror was definitely my sister. It took me a while to realise that it was me, and a big grin stretched across my face. I looked over at my mother and she looked equally pleased with her hands clasped together. We went to show my sister, and she screamed with delight and how good I looked. "Oh my god! You look perfect! You're going to make a better bride than I was supposed to!" she exclaimed.
"I don't know. I might look the part, but I don't know if I can act the part." I said, worriedly.
"I'll help you with that," my mother told me, "We still have a couple of days to get you ready."
* * * * * * *
The wedding day arrived and I was more nervous than I think a normal bride would be. The only people who knew about this scheme were my sister, my mother, Paul and I. This made me doubly nervous that someone would find out. After the couple of days that I had preparing, I was just hoping that it would be enough to fool people. The last bit of information that I got from Sarah was to watch out for Paul because he may forget that I'm not her. Being unsure how to take that statement, I got ready and we made our way to the venue.
The ceremony went along perfectly. However, as it drew towards the end, I realised what happens after he pronounces us 'man and wife'. Before I knew it, that moment was upon us and without warning Paul leaned in and started to kiss me. After the immediate shock, I began to realise I liked it, and kissed him back. Then, hand in hand, we left the venue and got into the car that would drive us around before taking us back to the venue for the reception.
In the car I felt so happy and I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. It felt so good to be so feminine that I almost forgot I wasn't Simon. I didn't realise that Paul and I were still holding hands, but when I did I shyly took mine away. He smiled and said softly, "That was a wonderful thing you did today. Sorry about the kiss, but I did have to sell it. And to tell you the truth, I rather liked it."
"It's quite okay," I replied, "I rather liked it as well."
I leaned across, and he held me in his arms until we reached the reception.
The reception went quick and before I knew it we were up performing our wedding dance. We swayed with my head on his chest and his hands around my waist and stayed for what I hoped would be an eternity. Unfortunately the song ended, though he kissed me again and we left the reception to a raucous applause.
We reached the hotel where we were supposed to wait out the night before returning to our normal lives the next day. When we got to our room, Paul threw me onto the bed before jumping on top of me and kissing me more deeply than he had done before. We kissed for a few minutes before I became unsure where this was going, so I pushed him off slightly.
"Remember that I'm Simon who you're currently trying to elope with. Are you sure you want to continue?" I asked.
"I don't care that you're not exactly Sarah, but from where I am, you are her. You're the perfect substitute and I am not stopping now."
With that he tore off his shirt and unbuttoned his trousers, putting his rock hard, 8 inch cock in my face. Without hesitation I took it in my hand and caressed it gently, stroking it ever so slowly. As he moaned in pleasure a small amount of pre-cum seeped from the head and I licked it off to more moans of pleasure. I then began to kiss and lick all over his cock and balls before he grabbed my head and forced his cock deep into my mouth. Surprisingly, I didn't gag, and I could feel his pubic hair tickling my face. He face-fucked me for a few minutes before suddenly pulling out.
"Don't stop!" I cried.
"Baby that was the best blowjob I have ever had, bar none. But I don't want to finish in your mouth; I have somewhere else in mind to empty my load."
He began to kiss me again, and at the same time he gently removed my dress. He used his teeth to remove the garter from my leg; then, knowing where this was going I rolled over onto my stomach. He pulled off my panties and my little hard cock was freed, but Paul didn't notice as he pulled me up onto my hands and knees. With his cock still lubricated from my saliva and his pre-cum, he teased my hole before slowly pushing it in. I allowed myself to relax as he began to push himself further and further into my ass. When his balls reached my ass cheeks he started to thrust in and out with increasing vigour. I screamed in pleasure as his cock hit my G-spot over and over again. I could feel the cum about to explode from both our cocks and in a chorus of moans we both came. I felt the warmth of his sperm in my ass with each spurt that he released. Then he pulled out and we both collapsed on the bed.
"That was the best sex I have ever had," I confessed to Paul, "And I'm not even gay!"
"You and me both, Simon. Or should I call you Sarah?" he teased.
"Maybe you should call me Sarah. That is, whenever we do this again." I said.
"It's a date!" he replied.
I fell asleep in his embrace with no care about what the new day would bring, just hoping for another chance to be with my husband.
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