Date: Fri, 17 Jul 2009 10:02:12 -0700 (PDT)
From: Tim Stillman <novemberhourglass@yahoo.com>
Subject: bi/incest "Antonio and Bree: A Spree"

			     Antonio and Bree:
				  A Spree
				    By
			     Timothy Stillman

I had been ice skating this cold snowy dusky gray afternoon one day before
Christmas break was over, and feeling like the world was ending, not only
because I was 14 and school was starting its long limp way to June, but
because I had lost my friends, Antonio and Bree. Brother and sister in
love. I was in love with them both. I stopped to pull up my mittens and
look with half closed eyes as the blue wind came to meet me and burn my
face and tousle my long hair. They had been?discovered?and their mother was
mortified. I knew they had been having sex for two years at least.  Twins.
And exciting beyond boundaries of beauty to see them make love, for they
had let me watch, which unnerved me and saddened me, and once they let me
join in; I got back to my house before I wept.

I wanted hot chocolate and would go to the stand and buy a cup after I
skated a little longer. My muscles, my heart, my head felt good, here in
the wrap-up tight cold and I always wanted it to be Antonio and Bree and
me, skating, charcoal figures in the ending of this lovely delicate snow
world; having chocolate; then going back to their house empty this time of
day and watch them kiss, 13, they were, and that would never happen again.
Mental wards for them both, separately. And I had only their school photos
to remember them by. For them, love was fun, it was joyous, stripping to
skin in one of their rooms and full of giggle sunshine, no matter the gloom
of a winter day; no matter winter?s deepest most haunting soliloquy; they
were summer and naked they were golden pennies, as they let me sit naked
with them on the bed as I masturbated, allowed to touch here and there, and
one time..one time?

I began skating again. I had been at it a long time. Their parents had
moved. The scandal was hushed up. Love is wrong. Sex is wrong. Being 13 and
being 14 is wrong and being star dust look alike twins is wrong and it
seems so is everything else good and new and happy and sublime.  I took off
on my silver skates once more. I was alone at the rink, for it was
desperately cold. I had fallen in love with Antonio early on and when I
discovered him with his sister, I thought of that end scene in the movie of
The Cement Garden??..but Julie, you?re his sister..? as they went on making
defiant love as the circling red lights on top police cars shown through
the window above their bed. I missed them and it had been a month which had
been a terrible winter holiday for all of us. I felt myself hard in my
heavy jeans and I skated till my cock went down.

I would touch Antonio?s flanks just feather like with my hand as he lay on
top Bree and they were perfection and ice cream and blue skies and slim and
her breasts were beginning to bud, and both had beginning pubic hair, not
shaggy and always in need of a trim, like mine, and they deep throated as
her brother moved inside her and their breaths were ragged and I watched
him digging into her and wished so he had been fucking me instead.
Sometimes I pretended I kissed them, sometimes I pretended they had at
least a tenth of love for me that I had for them. I was their friend. They
were my obsession.

And they had let me between them in bed and they had masturbated me and let
me do the same to both of them at the same time. How wonderful to rub
Bree?s cunt and to rub up and down her brother?s cock all pink it was as
her lips and labia and sometimes I can skate for hours and their faces with
their slightly too long chins and their buck teeth that looked on them
charming can glow in my mind for all the hours I skate and they were
dancers in life. You just knew it. Their parents were well-off.  Antonio
and Bree were champion students in class and in sports. And I longed to
suck her breasts and to rub and pinch Antonio?s at the same time. To do
everything with each and both sexually that could be done. I try not to
think of them now, where they are, what is being done to them to make them
?normal? to make them ?sane.? How many people were slaughtered in wars
today? How many babies died of diseases that could have been cured
overnight had they had the right doctors and medicine and knowledge turned
in their direction? You can have your goddam sanity and your goddam reality
too, much good may it do you.

But not, god forbid, love between brother and sister, the way their faces
lit up and eyes of warm buttery love when they saw each other, when they
went down on each other, when they lay there and rubbed their hands on each
other?s bodies and let me feel as well, so I stopped skating. Went over and
got the hot chocolate, paid for it, and sat on the snowy bench and felt
snow invading and covering with kind relaxing drowsiness my body and making
me feel safe, making me feel always 14 and if I turned around at just the
right time, if I turned at exactly the right increment, another dimension
would open up, and Bree and Antonio, and Antonio and Bree, would be
standing there, hands in pockets of their warm Land?s End coats, their eyes
bright and mischievous and on their lips the gate way words we?ve decided
to let you have your way with us.

And things would always work out that way, because they had to, because
when love like that comes to two people and I am lucky to be their friend
who they gave such great and intimate kindness to, it should not be torn
apart by morons in their half wit self imposed sagacity and their
silly-assed little smirks and authority authority authority?those words
started repeating in my brain, then going faster as if in a dervish as I
felt my eyes close and lids heavy like iron that I could not raise by any
amount of strength and school was tomorrow and my two friends in all the
world would be forever absent.

I opened my paper thin eyelids, I took off my skates, stood dizzily, held
to the back of the bench a moment, then tied the skates and threw them over
my shoulder, as I began the long walk home. I felt like I was a million
years old.