The twins were absolutely beautiful, each the perfect clone of the other.  They shared the language of their lust.

Together, they were an irrepressible sexual force, leading yet urging, taking yet giving.  

I watched them move into the room, pick out their mark, a wallflower waiting to bloom; they flowed as one, yet caught her in a pincer movement. 

They moved inseparably, hands to the breast, and more, whispers in the ear, stripping her resistance as they dry humped her legs.

It was majestic, her hips buckled, her orgasm released.  She blossomed, watered by their power, she came of age.