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The Rosenberg Twins
By George Held
The Rosenberg sisters, Tara and Paula, were as different as twins could be. They were fraternal twins, a term that always puzzled me as a kid, because they weren't brothers. Shouldn't they be called sororal twins, I wondered, if "sororal" is a word?
Tara was the voluptuous one-olive skinned, curvaceous, zaftig, and with full lips and sloe eyes, curtained by incredibly long lashes. She curled her long raven hair. Eyes followed her wherever she walked, her jeans straining to contain her curvy bottom, her blouse open at the top button, showing the globular tops of her breasts. When she wasn't smiling warmly, Tara wore a look of bemusement, as if to say, "I can't help it if I look great, but give me a break." She usually had a steady boyfriend, usually a cool, hoody, older guy like Jack Minnerly, who wore a black leather jacket and motorcycle boots. He even rode a motorcycle, sometimes with Tara pasted to his back.
Paula was six inches taller than Tara's 5 foot 5 and had small breasts and a big bottom. Her skin was pale and she wore her black hair straight, with bangs, a sort of Chinese look. While Tara wore dark glossy lipstick, Paula used pale rose lipstick on her thin lips. She usually wore a long skirt, probably because she looked like a load in jeans. She also sometimes wore a blazer, making her appear as serious as a school principal. She did look old for sixteen. I was thirteen and although Tara flirted with me, I figured I'd never have a chance with her. And if I did, Jack Minnerly would take care of me. He was always threatening to give some guy a fat lip. Sometimes he did.
I know it sounds like b.s. for a thirteen-year-old to talk about having a chance with any sixteen-year-old babe, but the Rosenberg sisters used to take me over to their house after school. They'd feed me from a refrigerator full as in a GE commercial, and we'd drink Cokes. Then they'd escort me to their bedroom and change clothes in front of me, so I got used to seeing them in their bra and panties. I could see that Tara was as voluptuous in her underwear as she seemed to be in her overwear, or whatever you call it. And Paula looked better in her underwear than you might have thought. As they took off their school clothes and pulled on their jeans and sweatshirts, they'd talk to me as if nothing unusual was going on.
The Rosenberg twins also said I was going to be a lady-killer and that I ought to be in movies and that they liked me better than they liked most of the guys their age. Sometimes they stroked my cheeks or gave me a hug or a peck on the lips. Then one afternoon when they were in their underwear, instead of putting on their casual clothes they both came over to me and each one took an arm and led me over to one of their twin beds and sat me down between them. I didn't know whether to resist or go with the flow. I decided not to resist.
"Why are you so shy and polite around us?" Paula asked.
"Don't you like what you see?" teased Tara, patchouli wafting from her body.
I just shrugged my shoulders. Tara then squeezed my right arm and kissed my right cheek and stuck her tongue in my ear while Paula squeezed my left arm and kissed my left cheek and stuck her tongue in my left ear.
"Don't you like that?" she asked, tea rose faintly rising off her skin.
"Yeah," I said, feeling turned on but really weird. Then they got up from the bed and pulled on their clothes.
I started to have wet dreams about the Rosenberg sisters. In classrooms I would often daydream about them and hope that each day would be one that they'd invite me over after school. I grew less likely to hang out or play sports with the guys. I got low grades on tests. I often heard the word "allure" in my head or whispered it to myself. The twins had allure, I felt their allure, and I knew it was the allure of sex.
One day Paula met me after school and asked me to go home with her.
"Where's Tara?" I asked.
"My mother took her to Florida for a week. So you and I . . . we'll be home alone. Is that okay with you, or do you need Tara to interest you?"
"No, it's okay by me to be with . . . just you."
Walking the half-mile from school to her house, Paula was silent, almost sullen. My attempts at humor fell flat. At her house she offered me food and Coke as usual, but we passed on them and went up to the bedroom. Paula threw herself on her bed, lit a cigarette, and lay back on the pillow.
"I want you to come here and lie down beside me," she said.
"Okay," I said and did as she wished. She offered me a puff on her cigarette. I usually declined, but this time I accepted and sucked the harsh smoke into my lungs. I coughed and blew the smoke out in a rush.
"Ugh!" I said.
Paula smiled and said it would get easier with practice. "Take a small puff and breathe it in slowly."
I did as she told me and felt pleasingly dizzy. My ears buzzed and I felt a tingle in my veins.
"I could teach you a lot," she said. "So could Tara, but not now." She puffed on her cigarette and blew a smoke ring at the ceiling.
"You know why she went to Florida with my mother, don't you?"
I didn't have a clue and looked over at her and furrowed my brow.
"You are the only one I can talk to about this, but you've got to swear to keep it a secret."
"Okay," I said
But she said, "Swear."
"I swear to keep the secret, I swear."
"Mother is taking Tara to have an abortion. That rat Jack got her pregnant, and they're too young to get married."
I was puzzled. I knew you were supposed to use a rubber to avoid V.D. and pregnancy. I'd figured Jack must be having sex with Tara, but how did she get pregnant?
"The condom broke. Just when Tara was ovulating. I'd told her never to screw at that time of the month, but Jack put pressure on her and threatened to leave her if she made him wait."
I'd never heard Paula talk like that, though she was the tougher of the twins.
She put out the cigarette in the ashtray on her bedside table. Then she put her arm over her eyes and started to cry. Without thinking, I stroked her other arm and said everything would turn out okay.
"Don't you see? Don't you see?" she said. "Nothing can ever be the same. We're twins, but I'm practically a virgin and Tara's having an abortion. We'll never be the same."
"But you're so different, even if you are twins. You don't look alike or think alike. I never even understood why you both like me."
"Both like you? Yes, we do. Tara thinks you're cute, and so do I. But I first liked you because you're sensitive. Tara only liked to tease you. Now I just want you to hug me."
I hugged her and she put her head on my shoulder and cried softly for a little while.
After a while, she stopped crying and began to breathe deeply and hug me tightly and then she drew me to her open lips and gave me my first wet kiss. She kept on kissing me and caressing me and we both grew more excited until she slipped off her panties and pulled off my Levi's and she rolled onto her back and guided me into her. She screamed a lot and that worried me until I started to feel better than I ever have in my whole life.
"Thank you," she said about five minutes later. "Now please leave me alone. You can let yourself out. I just want to be alone." She rolled over on her side away from me. I waited a minute and then did as she'd asked.
Out on the street, I looked back at the closed door, and I knew that would be the last time I'd ever be inside the Rosenbergs' house.