"If you want to know who's who, just look at his ass." His hands were almost in the dirt now.
"It's too late for that, little bro. She already knows who's who."
"There's birthmark on his left butt cheek, just take a look. That's Sebastian."
"Go on Melanie, take a look." The dominant brother nodded over his shoulder. "Take a good look at my ass, why not? The mark you'll find there is what distinguishes me from my brother Sebastian who is about to be wrestled into the sand here."
"Do it, Melanie!" The lower brother shouted. "At least you'll always be able to tell us apart then."
Her hand trembled as she reached over and with her index finger gently drew the underwear down to reveal the sculpted ass cheek and the soft crevice of his butt. She gasped a little and fought it back, trying to hide her desire. It was all too unreal.
The guy's butt was flexing and straining to hold his brother in place and wrestle him down. Melanie imagined that butt straining and flexing on top of her, digging deep within her to find pleasure and satisfaction, thrusting, burrowing, and pounding. Her breath became shorter as her finger slid lower against the warm marble of his ass and then she found it, the tiny mark that distinguished the identical twins. A tiny crescent shape curved into his flank like the ranch brand of a prize animal.
She withdrew her finger and left the shorts where they were, pulled half way down, her gaze, lingering, hungering. Maybe it was the unfamiliarity, the humidity, the disorientation, but she felt herself begin to pass out again and instantly the wrestling match was over as both brothers leaped to her aid.
One week later, Melanie was feeling a whole lot better, although she had still not regained her memory. She knew she was a flight attendant with Drummond Airlines and according to the two handsome magazine models with her, they were in fact the Drummond Brothers. Both of them were billionaires, if she remembered correctly.
She was trapped on an island with two billionaires, both of them young, apparently single, ripped, tanned, and walking around bare-chested in shorts most of the time.
It was hard to believe they were two pampered rich kids. Looking at them, Melanie would have believed wild animals on the island had raised them. Hunting and fishing came naturally to them; although there wasn't much to kill on land, there were plenty of fish in the lagoons and offshore. The first day they had built effective lean-tos to keep them sheltered during the night. They had built one each to give her privacy but when she woke screaming with an island rodent staring her in the face and stumbled through the moonlight into one of their quarters, they had thought better of it and set to building a more permanent dwelling. After all, they didn't know how long they were going to be out there. It was better that they stick together. Still, they struggled to give her privacy, constructing a room within the large hut for her alone.