The fee was exorbitant but Raymond had to admit, the data base seemed impressive and the testimonials were encouraging. He entered his credit card information and registered, and within minutes he was logged in. The website was a discovery borne of insomnia and the hefty payout from his recent redundancy at work. He was bored and horny and climbing the walls, so when he saw a banner ad on his favourite porn sight for he was intrigued. It was an elite website selling lifetime memberships dedicated to helping people find, and hopefully fuck, their doppleganger. Ever the narcissist, Raymond had stiffened at the thought of fucking a living double of himself, or even a reasonable facsimile. He scrolled through hundreds of his carefully curated selfies and completed his profile. He clicked submit and waited as the facial recognition software identified and classified his features, stroking his ego as his face and body were visually dissected. Once his profile was complete, he launched the search to find his match. Would one exist? And if he did, would he be on the site, willing and able to connect? He watched the progress bar as the database did its thing. He glanced at the clock and figured he should try to sleep. His doppleganger would have to wait.

Raymond awoke at nearly noon, his loft apartment was full of light and he squinted as he pulled himself from his bed. A quick piss and a chug of green juice and he was ready for a work out. He observed his body in the mirror and stepped onto the scale, he frowned and criticized his reflection, knowing he’d be happier with what he saw after the 90 mins of cardio he did each morning. Image was everything to him and he knew how powerful his look was. Tall, fit, rugged but approachable; he had no problem getting all the cock and pussy he wanted with his body and he felt no shame in that. Lacing up his shoes, his mind flicked back to the idea of fucking someone who looked like his twin. What a rush that would be. He made a deal with himself that he’d check the results after his workout, so long as he was satisfied with his progress.

It was mid afternoon by the time Raymond had worked out, fed himself, showered and sat down at his desk. He rolled a joint and sat back in the chair, the plumes of blue smoke curling up towards the vaulted ceilings. He logged in and paused, the smoldering blunt between his lips. There it was – a message. Not only confirmation of a match, but a message from the man he’d matched. He held his breath and opened the message.


My name is Finn, and I believe you are my doppleganger. I have been on this site for over 3 years and never replied to other matches because they were close, but not close enough. Check out my profile and if you like what you see, let’s chat. I see you’re in NYC. I’m in LA but if we click, I can easily travel to you. 

Don’t be a stranger, 


Heart pounding, Raymond clicked through to Finn’s profile.

It was like looking into a mirror. His hair was a bit longer, he wasn’t as closely shaved, but the likeness was uncanny. Immediately, Raymond felt his cock bulge and his balls begin to ache. He opened the photogallery of pictures Finn had shared and yanked his cock out of his pants, stroking it briskly as he scrolled through the images. Finn clearly lived an incredible lifestyle: naked lounging in Aruba, shirtless in a state of the art home kitchen, looking Bond-like in a tux beside a Maserati, skiing in the Swiss Alps with what appeared to be a whole sorority of models. He was tall and flawless and everything Raymond was, and what he wanted to be. He pumped his shaft aggressively, both desirous and resentful of this other man’s fortune and easy lifestyle. He focused on the image of Finn laying back on his elbows, taut and bronzed on a white sand beach, head back, laughing in the sun. Raymond imagined standing over Finn’s hard, golden body and splattering him with cum, covering his chest and face. The thought was enough to drive him over the edge and he bellowed across the loft as he soiled his abs with hot semen. With his orgasm hastily dispatched, he wiped up and began to type.


Thanks for the reply. Your pics are hot and I’d love to hook up. Let’s chat and if it goes well, let’s make a plan. 


The messages turned to texts, texts to video calls and within three days Raymond was looking at a selfie of Finn’s lap, taken in first class on his flight from LA. The bulge in his crotch was hard to miss, but so was the tanned hand of the man sitting next to him, draped casually, comfortably over Finn’s thigh. Raymond gritted his teeth and texted back “who’s your friend?” a surge of jealousy rushing through him. He waited impatiently for Finn’s reply but it didn’t come. He reminded himself it was just a hookup, just a hot cross continental hookup with his doppleganger for whom he’d paid a pretty penny to find. So what? he thought. So what if Finn swiped his membership card for The Mile High Club in some dude’s ass? That guy probably wasn’t even hot, he consoled himself, he probably ate dairy and had more than 10% body fat. He was probably a loser. Raymond packed his bag and left for the hotel to fuck a man who looked just like him.

Raymond checked in and sent his bag up to his room before hitting the bar in the lobby. The hotel was exquisite, chosen and paid for by Finn, naturally, and it was filled with beautiful people. Raymond downed a double bourbon and ordered another, flirting casually with the bartender, to calm his nerves. His phone lit up – a text from Finn: “just checked in. your bag is in the room but you aren’t.” Raymond grinned and downed his second drink before strolling to the elevator. He texted back “at the bar, on my way up” and turned off his phone. It felt odd to knock, but he did, swiping his keycard and stepping into the luxury suite. He walked into the sitting room and stopped dead in his tracks. Finn stood up to greet him and spoke first.

“I hope you don’t mind … I brought you a present.”

Raymond blinked and shook his head, befuddled as he looked at the two men before him.

“I don’t understand …”

Finn stepped toward him, a warm smile on his face and his arms outstretched.

“It’s nice to meet you Ray. I’m Finn and this is my brother, Oliver.”

Finn hugged him and Raymond looked over his shoulder at Oliver who smiled shyly and stood up too.

“You’re …twins?”

“Uh huh,” said Finn “I didn’t think you’d mind two of us. I’ve told Ollie all about you and if you’re down for it, he’s into the whole dopp-fuck thing too. We’ve never fucked someone together but if there was ever a time to break that rule, this is it.”

Raymond shook his head and grinned. Not only were they the spitting image of each other, they were more or less the spitting image of him. Oliver stepped forward and shook his hand. “The party favours are arriving any minute, but can I get you a drink? You look like you need a drink.”

“He still hasn’t even said he’s DTF, Ollie, geez. What do you say, Ray? Want to threesome with yourself or should we just get fucked up and hit the clubs?”

Ray looked from one raffish smile to the other and back again. He was overwhelmed but couldn’t imagine passing up the chance.

“Fuck it,” he said as he pulled off his shirt, “Let’s do this.”

Violet Fawkes

Violet Fawkes (she/her) is a freelance writer and sex blogger focusing on pleasure education, erotic fiction, and the intersection of identity, kink and mental health.