Switch: Alien Invasion/Violence&S*x

Chapter 63: Frolicking


*****

"One of these days, Nick, you're going to tell me how you can tell us apart…," said Stephanie.

Coming out of her room, and pulling down a different shirt. I have to laugh when I read what was written on it, It says: "These are not the boobs you're looking for," with arrows pointing to each breast.

"So," Stephanie says, grinning, "which game am I going to humiliate you in first?"

I laugh again.

"You pick. That way it'll be even more humiliating when I stomp you."

Both twins laugh, and I realize—yet again—that even their laughter is identical. With either one of them, it sounds genuinely musical.

We spend the next few hours playing various games. I hold my own well enough, but sometimes the girls team up on me, and then I don't stand a chance at all. Both of them are excellent gamers. I briefly wonder how rare it is to find girls this beautiful who are also this good at gaming.

As the sun goes down, one of them sets a beer in front of me. I was too absorbed in defeating her sister to notice which one it is, and I don't realize what I'm drinking until I take my first swallow. The unexpected bitterness hits my throat, and I choke—just as my character is defeated.

"That's a cheap trick," I complain, as I try to clean the beer off my chin.

"Oh, I'm sorry. We thought you were old enough to handle alcohol," Stephanie teases, and I realize it had been her that'd given me the beer.

"We can make some Kool-Aid, if you prefer that rather," her sister taunts right after.

Just to prove a point, I quickly down the rest of the beer. Stephanie is just within arm's reach, and this time I manage to catch her wrist before she can get away. Growling playfully, I use my newfound strength to pull her down into my lap, and start tickling her sides.

"I'll show you what I can handle!" I exclaim, as Stephanie bursts into hysterical laughter under my fingers.

A pillow smacks me in the face a moment before Stacy tackles me, giving Stephanie the chance to slip away. The attack is too sudden for me to recover, and Stacy pulls away before I can grab her too.

Stephanie is breathing hard as she looks at me. She is tries to look annoyed, but the smile behind her long lashes gives away her true feelings—and so does her 'happy' switch.

"I want to play a different game," she says once she's caught her breath. From her tone, I know she doesn't mean a different video game.

"What do you have in mind?" I ask my curiosity piqued.

"We go into my room," she says, gesturing to herself and her sister, "and come out wearing something different. One at a time. You guess who we are. If you're right, we take off one article of clothing, keep it off, and take a drink. If you're wrong, you will do the same."

I shake my head, I know I can't lose this game. "That's not fair. I'll never lose—and you'll just cheat," I exclaim.

"We never cheat!" Stacy protests, but I glance at the beer that had distracted me earlier, then at the pillow she used as a weapon against me, watching her cheeks flush red.

"That wasn't cheating," she insists.

"That was tactics. I tell you what, we'll mark the inside of one of our hands, so that you can't see it when we come out. But that way, we can prove proof when you're wrong."

"You don't understand," I try to explain.

"I always know who I'm talking with now. You'll never win."

They clearly think I'm just bragging—like I have been all night—because they insist on playing anyway.

Okay," I say, "but don't complain when I'm still dressed, and you're both naked."

I draw a circle on the inside of Stephanie's hand and an X on Stacy's. The two brunettes disappear into Stephanie's room, and a few minutes later, one of them steps back out.

"Stephanie," I say without hesitation.

feeling her 'happy' switch drop when she realize she lost the round. She slips off one of her shoes, takes a sip of beer, and walks back into the bedroom.

Stacy comes out next—already barefoot—but she loses too. She argues that her shoe was already off and that it still counts, and I don't bother disagreeing. I feel a twinge of guilt; I really can't lose this game.

Before long, both women are completely naked—and a little tipsy.

"That's really not fair," Stephanie grumbles, stamping her foot. "How do you know?"

My eyes roam over both of their bodies, searching for the one difference that's been hinted at more than once today—but I can't see anything. As far as my eyes can tell, they're perfectly identical.

"Maybe I can read minds," I joke, realizing I probably should've thrown a few guesses. They tried every trick they could think of to fool me, but they can't change—or hide—Stephanie's switch.

"We've never lost," Stacy complains, and I can't help but wonder how many times they've played this game. How many other men have been tricked out of their clothes, hoping for the chance to see these two beautiful twins naked, but left dejectedly..

"I tried to warn you," I say lightly. "I know."

Then an idea hits me.

"How about all or nothing?" I ask.

The twins look at each other, then back at me, their expressions perfectly identical.

"Go on," Stephanie says.

I take a slow, steady breath before speaking. I'm not nearly as tipsy as they are, and I have no idea how they'll react to this.

"I understand there's a difference between you two," I say carefully, "one that can only be seen when you're naked. Since you already are… if I can figure out what it is, I get a real kiss from each of you."

They exchange a glance, and I continue before either can interrupt.

"If I fail," I add, "I down a whole beer—and strip completely."

Stacy's eyes widen, then sparkle as a broad smile spreads across her face.

"Done!" she says, far too quickly, far too confidently.

That worries me. She accepted that way too easily.

Just how small is this difference?

I rise to my feet and take a step toward them. Instantly, both of them retreat.

"Hey—what are you doing?" Stephanie demands, folding her arms instinctively, though the gesture does little to hide anything.

"I have to examine you," I reply, wearing the same triumphant smile her sister had flashed moments earlier.

Stacy snorts softly, amused, while Stephanie narrows her eyes at me, clearly weighing whether this is a terrible idea—or just a dangerous one. After a brief hesitation, she exhales and relaxes her posture.

"Fine," she mutters. "But no funny business."

This time, they hold their ground as I step closer. The room feels suddenly quieter, charged in a way it hadn't been before. I circle them slowly, my eyes taking in every detail, every curve, every subtle nuance—searching for the secret they're so sure I'll miss.

They stand still, watching me watch them, confidence written plainly on Stephanie's face, while Stacy's expression betrays just the faintest hint of nervous anticipation.

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