Understanding Emmalyn

I picked up the remote control and started to flick through the channels. At the touch of a button I did not mean to press, the DVD player began to whir and, when it started to read the disc in its tray, a new image flickered onto the screen.

The image went from dark, the dark red, and fuzzy. There was some muffled sound then everything became a fuzzy bright light before refocusing.

"There. It's on."

Emma's voice. And Emma's face, retreating from the close-up of the camera. Emma retreated a little way and I could see that the video was shot in the girls' room upstairs. Emma went and sat down on a chair in the middle of the room next to her sister. Both girls were grinning; first at each other, then at the camera.

"Okay, okay" said Emma. "Web video number one. My name is Emmalyn-"

"And my name is Emmalyn too!" said Carolyn, sitting next to her. My two girls had adopted identical poses and were dressed exactly the same; sneakers, gym pants (exposing a whole lot of leg), and white tennis tops. Both wore identical make-up (making them look really very grown up), and had their hair brushed straight behind their backs. Identical twins to start with, they had played on this and could have looked like clones. In the video, Emma gave her sister a short, disapproving look and returned her smile to the camera.

"This is my other self, Emmalyn. Who's a little bit naughty." She said that last bit with an exaggerated stage whisper, hand cocked to mouth. Carolyn nodded enthusiastically.

"And today, I - we - are going to act out one of our favorite scenes for you."

Carolyn pouted heavily.

"Hey" she said. "Should that be 'I am going to act out...', or 'we are going to act out...'?"

Emma smiled through this and said, out of the corner of her mouth,

"It doesn't matter, dummy. They can see we're the same person split into two. I don't think they care about our grammar."

"Oh right" said Carolyn, acting up the happy idiot. "They care about our tits, right?" At this, she grabbed her own breasts and squeezed them together. Emma swatted at her sister absent mindedly.

"Not yet! Not yet!" she said in that stage whisper again.

"Okay. This time we'll act out the scene. Remember, this is an interpretation, not a Shakespearean production." A wagged finger reinforced this point. Then the two girls shifted to face each other; each planting their hands on their knees and sitting upright.

"Oh Rhett! Rhett-" said Carolyn, acting up the part of Scarlet O'Hara from 'Gone with the wind', "Rhett, whatever is going to become of us?"

"Frankly, my dear" said, in a deep drawl, "I don't give a damn!" Then the two girls leaned into one another and kissed on the lips. At first, they kissed lightly but then, as their kisses began to take on more urgency, I watched as Carolyn reach out with her right hand and squeeze her sister's breast. At this, Emma drew back from the kiss with an exasperated look on her face.

"Emmalyn!" she said.

"Yes, Emmalyn?" replied her sister.

"I'm pretty sure that in the film, Scarlet doesn't grab Rhett Butler's tits."

Carolyn giggled, then said to Emma; "But I like them. I really do." this last comment was to the camera.

Emma turned back to the camera, her pretend-professional smile once more on her lips.

"Thank you for watching. In the next web vid, we'll be looking at another great kissing scene from the movies."

"What about the boobies?" said Carolyn, grabbing her own once again. Emma ignored her and got up. She stepped up to the camera, blew it a kiss from very close-up, Impish and exquisite at the same time, then switched it off.

The screen went dark. I sat for a moment, dumbfounded. I had just watched my twin girls kissing each other. Touching each other. For a moment, silence filled the room, and my head. Then the screen burst into life once more.

This time, the two girls were much closer to the camera; only an arm's length away. Their heads, shoulders and chests filled the screen as they sat almost hip-to-hip beside each other. Both were dressed in shirts or blouses (it was difficult to tell, these days), and were once again made-up identically.

"Hi. This is Emmalyn." said Emma.

"And Emmalyn." said her sister.

"This is web vid number... what number is it, Emmalyn?"

"Who knows? Who cares?"

"Right. This is web vid number whatever. And this is a quick scene we both really really like from one of our favorite films."

"Right."

"This is the 'Homecoming' scene from 'Daisy Does Desiree' a Sappho-lite production."

Emma turned to her sister; almost nose to nose, and started panting.

"I never thought you'd come back, Daisy!" she said, theatrically. "You said that you didn't love me!"

"I don't, bitch. I just want you for your gorgeous body. Prepare to be ravished!"

With that two girls leaned into each other and started kissing furiously. Not just lips, but tongues; flashing around each other's mouths like whips. They did this for a long time, kissing passionately. Then, as if on some pre-arranged signal, they reached out and started undoing each other's shirt buttons. They struggled out of their shirts - never once breaking from their kiss - and exposed their naked breasts side-on to the camera. They reach out once more, touching, holding and squeezing each other's breasts as the passion of their kissing rose to even greater levels. I watched as Emma took her sister's nipple between finger and thumb and squeeze hard on the raised bud. Carolyn moaned but did not break off the embrace for a moment. She reached out in return and-

The screen went blank. I dropped the remote control having made sure I could see no more.

"Oh girls." I said, breathing the words quietly. "Oh my girls, what has happened?"

It later, much later in the day, after I'd called in to the library to say I was feeling sick (which was true), that I got up and moved. I went upstairs, not really knowing what I was going to do, and found myself walking towards the girls' room. I opened the door and the familiar smell - the combined, dual scent of them both - flooded into me. It was a scent both earthy and sweet at the same time; he scent of their sweat from clothes worn and waiting to be washed. The scent of lotions, hairsprays and body sprays. The scent of cosmetics used to make the body beautiful. The scent of their bedclothes; not covered in sweat but somehow infused with the scent of who they were. It was the scent I had grown to love with every tiny molecule of my heart. From the very minute they had been born; had come out from between my own legs and into the world as their own people, I had loved them and tended to them. It was, in many ways, the most comforting - the most homely - scent I could ever imagine. I thought I would be revulsed by it. Thought that what I had seen and heard (and yes; I was now convinced that I had caught them engaged in sex together the other day), would bubble away like some horrible kernel of hate within me. And that this kernel of hatred and revulsion would be overpowered by the dual scent of them from their room.

But it wasn't. I could still feel nothing but love for my beautiful daughters. Could never wish on them the ire of that hateful revulsion. What I felt, as I began to realise, was a different emotion. A mixed emotion. Ignorance - dreadful, awful ignorance of how I could not have known about their obvious feelings for each other, their angst, their own emotions. Ignorance of the fact that these two stunningly beautiful girls had grown into their own sexual melodrama without me even noticing. And shame. Not the shame that you might expect; the shame of daughters blighting my expectations of them, or acting in a debauched way. Not that shame at all. It was the shame that if they were doing anything wrong, it had been my fault.

'...don't give me that line, mom. Not you of all people!'

I sat down on Carolyn's bed. Carolyn's bed where only hours earlier the two sisters had slept within each other's arms. Where only a day previously they had stripped and fucked each other; pumped full of hormones and a rage of passion for each other, sweat dripping from their brows, saliva spilling from their mouths, hot wetness trickling from between each other's legs. I sat on the edge of the bed and cried. I cried and cried until it left me heaving for breath in hard ragged sobs.

I thought about everything I could from when the girls made that change from pre-teens obsessed with nothing more important than dolls and chocolate and pretty things, to young women; tormented by widening hips, growing breasts and relentless waves of hormones, coursing through their bodies without a by-or-leave as they did. I tried to pick out where and when it was that I had so blindly missed their feelings for each other. Their 'intimacy' for each other. I could not. I only dreaded that there was some other influence, other than that I was aware of, which was compelled them towards each other.

And then, the realization hit me. There was. And it was my fault.

In a suddenness that made me feel foolish, I knew exactly where my fault lay. I had even dreamed the clue to it last night.

Carolin.

More than a decade had passed since that night when Emma had caught me in a passionate embrace with the other woman. More than ten years and only that one tiny glimpse into that image of Sapphic intimacy. But it had been enough. And, of course, Carolin and I had looked so similar. It must have been that thought which had fermented and blossomed and swelled in Emma's mind as she grew and tried to understand and contain all those raging hormones through her teenage years. And it must have been that blossoming thought she shared with her twin sister. And now the two were, what? Lesbians? Lovers? Or just sexually curious? I could not tell, and was suddenly overcome with the grief of my own guilt. I curled up on the bed where my two daughters had rubbed and touched and entered each other. Lay my head close to the pillow where the shared smell of their sex and sweat and scent filed my nostrils, and closed my eyes. And slept.

I awoke a few hours later, somehow feeling much more refreshed than I expected to. I inhaled deeply of that scent the two girls shared and, in some kind, wonderful way, had an epiphany of sorts. And my epiphany told me this:

Neither of my girls were cruel. Neither were stupid or vindictive or aggressive. Neither of them did drugs (of that I was fairly sure). Neither of them were in trouble with the authorities. And neither of them - I hoped and wished with all my heart - hated their mother. And that, I realized, was the most important thing in the world.

So I decided to confront this issue positively and, in some way, come to understand this "Emmalyn" my daughters professed to be.

I got up and went back downstairs to the lounge. I sat down, switched on the TV and picked up the remote. I hesitated only a few moments, then pressed the 'resume' button to switch to DVD. The screen flickered and I steeled myself to see the girls as they were in that last pose; naked from the chest up; groping each other and kissing passionately. But the video had not frozen at that point. It had rolled on to its conclusion and returned back to the root menu. I studied the menu for a moment, looking not at the tiny moving thumbnails, showing images of my girls in any number of clinches. I looked at the details beside each thumbnail. At the number of scenes, and date when each was recorded.

There were seven scenes. And the earliest one went back over a year and a half ago. A year and a half! I barely expected them to be sexually curious, let alone active, at that age. The most recent scene was barely a few weeks old. Hand trembling slightly, I selected the first scene and pressed 'play'.

Emma was seated in the middle of the room, side on to the camera. She definitely looked younger; it showed in her cheekbones and her face, if not her clothes. She was wearing jogging pants and a white t-shirt, similar to the clothes her and Carolyn were wearing in another of the scenes. The camera blurred, then Carolyn hurried back from the close-up view (where no doubt she'd initiated the recording) and took a seat opposite her sister, facing her. The two composed themselves for a moment, then sat still; hands on their laps. Eventually, Emma raised her right hand up to her face, leaning forward and touching a spot close to the corner of her mouth. Moving at exactly the same time, Carolyn raised her left hand and copied her sister's movements. Emma turned her head a little to the left, Carolyn a little to the right. Emma sat back, and so did Carolyn. Emma smiled and mouthed out the words 'one, two, three' and then the two of them leaned forwards quickly and shouted "Boo!" before falling back and laughing.

The mirror spell was broken and the two had to compose themselves for a moment. Then they folded their hands back onto their laps once more. This time, they repeated their movements but when Carolyn copied her sister's leaning motion forward, Emma didn't stop. She reach out and kissed her sister on the lips, then sat back and laughed like crazy. Carolyn laughed to, but looked a little stunned. She got up and turned the video off. The screen stayed blank and I pressed the 'root menu' button. I looked through the thumbnails and selected one where both the girls were dressed differently. I wanted, hoped, to see them talking to each other, or to a third person, rather than act out some invented role.

I selected the fifth scene, where the moving thumbnail showed them not as identical twins but as two girls facing away from each other. The screen flickered to that one and I saw Emma's hand reach back from the camera as it came into focus.

Carolyn was dressed in her prom gown; a beautiful shimmering lilac dress that had thin shoulder straps a tailored bodice that perfectly accentuated her slim figure. It had a criss-cross lattice of laces at the back, and fell almost to her ankles. But in this camera view, I could only see as far as her waist. She had all her make-up on, her long red hair pinned up against her head, but looked sad and stared away from the camera. Emma re-emerged into view, dressed sloppily for bed as she always preferred to do, hair gathered up in a pony-tail. She did not acknowledge the camera and I knew right away that this was another acted part. I wanted to turn it off, but couldn't. Carolyn looked so sad, I had to see why.

Emma reached out a hand and touched her sister's shoulder tentatively.

"Hey sis. How are you-"

"Go away. Leave me alone." She shrugged the hand off her shoulder.

Emma looked a bit stunned, but only in an acted way. "Hey" she said, defensively. "I was only checking to see if you were okay. It's like, one hour from your big date and you looked a little sad."

"I am a little sad, but you wouldn't understand."

"I wouldn't understand? Of course I would. I know we have some secrets, like your hot date for tonight, but we understand everything about each other, right?" Emma replaced her hand on her sister's shoulder, and this time it wasn't rejected.

"No. You wouldn't. You see there's something about me that you don't understand. I'm a- I'm a-"

"What is it, sis? You can tell me anything."

"I'm a lesbian. There. I've said it. I'm a lesbian. I love other girls. When I dream about sex, it's not with boys but with girls."

"Hey" said Emma, stroking her sister's shoulder in soft, little sweeps, "It's okay. I'm a lesbian too."

Carolyn reached across her chest and placed her hand on Emma's, holding it for sympathy or comfort. She smiled sadly.

"Thanks sis, but it's not just that. There's one special girl who I love more than anyone else."

At this, Emma shifted and moved up close behind her sister. She licked her lips and said;

"Is it me, sis? Is that who you dream about?"

Carolyn nodded. "Good." said Emma. "Because in my dreams it's you who I think of too."

She planted a soft kiss on the side of Carolyn's neck and her sister shivered a little (if there was anything unrehearsed about this little scene to that point, it was that shiver). Emma then sat back and started to play with the laces at the back of Carolyn's gown, loosing them with no particular hurry.

"Somehow, I've always known; ever since we were little girls."

"Known what?" said Carolyn, unmoving as her sister undressed her.

"Known that you and I would feel this way. Like it was meant to be. Somehow, I've always felt this way; knowing that only I could understand the way you feel."

The laces fell apart and the gown began to slip from Carolyn's bare shoulders.

"How do I feel?" said Carolyn, shrugging slightly to let the gown slip further down. Emma finished with the laces and smoothed her hands across her sister's back, then up over her shoulders to remove the gown. Carolyn shrugged it off and reached behind her with both hands. Her breasts were high and softly rounded. Her nipples dark and jutting from her breasts like hard nubs. Emma reached her hands around her sister's body and traced her fingertips over Carolyn's breasts (again that shiver - that genuine shiver), and held her. The two embraced, back-to-back, and Emma squeezed her sister's breasts hard.

"You feel that you want me so bad, it'll tear you apart if you don't get me. But if you revealed this secret, it would ruin everything."

"Yes."

"But you don't have to be worried. I want you just as much."

Carolyn turned, finally and embraced her twin sister with a long, slow passionate kiss.

I sat there, watching my two beautiful daughters kiss one another and, for the first time, realized that they were indeed beautiful. Each had those high, proud cheekbones, pale skin, deep green eyes and full red lips that we so often see in models and movie stars of the like. And even their hair; Carolyn's tied up around her head, Emma's bound back in a pony-tail that snaked down between her shoulder blades, even that hair had the awesome twin quality of being exactly the right shade and length to suit the girl's looks, complexion and figure. As you'd expect of a famous movie star. But they were my girls in real life. And they were beautiful.

Each of them was a beautiful girl but together...

...together they were dazzling; mirroring each other's smiles and gestures and touches and words. Each displaying the same love and passion in equal amounts. I could not hate them. Couldn't hate them for whatever intimacy they shared.

It was then' at that moment so perfectly adjusted to the timings of a movie or TV show, that the front door opened, and I heard the high bright laughter of Carolyn spill in to the house. Emma's voice, drifted in from behind and then, almost immediately the laughing stopped. The movement faltered.

"Oh Jesus. Oh Jesus Christ."

I hadn't moved, and the video filling the TV screen in front of me continued to show the two sisters kissing passionately as drapes of clothes were taken off and abandoned. I felt my heart thudding in my chest as I picked up the remote control, levelled it at the TV screen and pressed the button to switch it off. The silence that followed was pregnant, and belligerent. I forced myself to take a few measured breaths, then leaned forward and stood up. Still no sound or movement behind me.

It took another effort of will to turn around and look at the girls. But I did.

Emma was wearing jeans and boots, with a t-shirt covered by a trademark sloppy cardigan. Her hair spilled freely around her shoulders. Carolyn worse a tight, above-knee skirt with tights or stockings and two-inch business shoes, with a blouse and jacket that made her look far more businesslike than her usual look. As if to contrast her sister on this day (of all days), Carolyn's hair was tied back into a pony-tail. Carolyn was staring at the floor, cheeks burning with hot redness. Emma, for her part, was staring at the now darkened TV screen; face as white as a sheet, unable to tear her gaze from the images she must have saw that I was watching. I stared from one to the other, feeling my heart thud heavily beneath my ribs. I took two steps toward them, and saw Emma flinch as though I were going to strike her. I stopped. Felt a tear roll down my cheek. Then stepped forward again.