****WARNING****
This story contains consensual sex
between an adult male and two MINOR
males. If that's not your cup of tea,
don't read it. You have been warned.
****DISCLAIMER****
This story is fiction. Any resemblance
to actual individuals, living or dead,
is entirely coincidental.
****ALL RIGHTS RESERVED****
Permission is hereby given to distribute
this story via electronic means only,
for non-profit use. This header must
remain intact. All rights to this story
remain the property of the author.
****REPLIES, SUGGESTIONS****
Replies and comments may be sent to me
at randu@cyberdude.com, or posted to
alt.sex.stories.d.
Double Trouble
Copyright 1994 Randu
Double Trouble
by Randu
CHAPTER 1
I was working on the final chapters of my latest book when I heard
the moving van come to a stop outside. My former neighbors (a very
nice elderly couple who had lived next door to me for several years)
had retired to Florida a few weeks ago. I lived in a four-unit,
condo-style townhouse. In fact, that's what the whole neighborhood
was, and I was sorry to see them go. They were one of the few
neighbors I had gotten to know, always having the bachelor-writer over
for dinner and telling me how much their grandson enjoyed my books. I
met him once, a very cute eight-year-old who had me autograph the
books he owned that were written by me. I got up from my computer and
looked out the front window, watching the movers open up their truck
and begin carrying boxes and furniture into the unit next door. I
didn't see any signs of the owners of these belongings however, so I
went back to my desk figuring I'd meet them when they got settled in.
I hadn't been working very long when I heard someone knocking
lightly on my door. When I opened it I was momentarily speechless,
for there on my doorstep were a pair of identical-twin boys, smiling
shyly at me. They were about nine or ten years old, each with long
brown hair and dressed in shorts and tank-tops, revealing well-tanned,
shapely limbs.
"Hi!" said the one on the left. "We're your new neighbors!" piped
the one on the right. I silently thanked my guardian angel-boy for
delivering these two handsome lads into my life, into a neighborhood
sorrowfully short of young boys...into the unit next door!
The boy on the right was looking up at me rather curiously, his
head cocked to one side, almost as if he knew what I was thinking. I
realized I had been staring. I held out a finger and made a show of
bringing it closer to my nose, following it with my eyes until they
crossed. "I seem to have been sitting at my computer too long," I
teased. "I'm seeing double."
They giggled at my small joke and the left one said, grinning,
"You're not seeing double, we're twins! I'm Cory and that's my baby
brother, Chris."
Chris gave his twin a withering look and said, "Will you STOP
calling me that? You're only five minutes older than I am!"
Hoping to head off a brotherly battle I intervened. "I'm pleased
to meet you," I said quite honestly. "I'm Tom."
Chris, the boy on the right, looked at me strangely again. "I
know," he said, as if I were stating the obvious. As soon as he said
it his brother looked sharply at him and elbowed him in the ribs.
Chris's face immediately became worried, as if he'd been caught doing
something he wasn't supposed to do.
"How do you know my name already?" I asked, wondering what was
going on.
Cory's eyes darted quickly around until they landed on my door,
still standing open. "There," he said, looking relieved, "your name's
on the door: 'Tom Jannings'."
Of course, I thought, it's right there for all to see. "You guys
are pretty quick. You'd make good detectives," I said, smiling at
them. "Are you all through moving in already?" I could see the movers
starting to clean up.
"Almost," said Cory. "Mom's inside unpacking but she said to 'get
out of her hair' for awhile."
"We were only trying to help," Chris informed me, sounding
slightly hurt that their efforts hadn't been appreciated.
"Is your Dad still at work or something?" I asked, wondering why
he hadn't been mentioned.
"No..." said Cory, hesitantly. "He doesn't live with us anymore."
"He doesn't even want to SEE us anymore," said Chris, looking
dejected.
I could tell this was a sore topic, and knew they probably blamed
themselves for their parents' separation. Young kids almost always
do. I changed the subject. "Would you like to come in for a drink or
something or shall we carry on our conversation in the doorway?"
They looked at each other and finally Chris nodded, as if to tell
his brother it was okay to go in. I ushered them into the kitchen,
noticing how they stared at the 'U2' poster on the wall of my living
room, the one with a young, bare-chested boy with his hands on his
head. As I got some glasses and ice they sat at the table and began
their own questioning.
"Are you married?" asked one.
"No."
"You live here alone?" asked the other.
"Yes."
"Any girl-friends?"
"No."
"How old are you?"
"32."
"Don't you work?" They were obviously wondering why I was home in
the afternoon on a weekday.
"Yes." I felt like I was playing twenty questions, being grilled
by identical inquisitors.
"Well, what do you do?"
"I write books." I gave them their sodas and sat down.
"Thanks," they said simultaneously, then they looked at each other
and giggled at their stereo effect. I looked at them closely and
could see that if I got to know them better I would probably be able
to tell them apart. There were subtle differences in their
expressions and appearances, the way they smiled and carried
themselves. I hoped I WOULD get to know them better! They were
certainly very cute, and definitely sexy, both with dark brown eyes
and expressive faces, and strong, lean bodies full of boyish energy.
I found myself staring at their slender necks and rounded shoulders,
admiring the tempting skin exposed by their tank-tops.
"How old are you two?" My turn for questions.
"Nine," answered the one I thought was Chris.
"Almost ten," added his twin.
"Are you from around Chicago, or did you move here from somewhere
else?"
"We used to live right in the city," explained Cory, taking a
drink, "but we moved to here in Glenwood 'cause Mom got transferred."
"What's your mom do?"
"She's a nurse at the hospital," said Chris proudly. Having a
conversation with these two was like watching a tennis match. Chris
looked at me and smiled, as if to say he knew it, it's just the way
they were.
"Hey!" exclaimed Cory, looking at me as if he'd suddenly realized
something. "Are you the same Tom Jannings that wrote all those books
we have?"
"Well, I don't know what books you have but I'm the only Tom
Jannings that I know of." I grinned at him slyly. I really did love
being recognized by my young fans. My books were written mainly for
(and about) young boys, full of adventure and daring just like their
readers, and also about everyday stuff like new siblings, school,
divorce, even one about death. I always answered every letter I got
from a reader, and also from appreciative parents who were grateful
that my books had turned their kids onto reading.
Chris was looking at me again. "It IS you," he said, sounding
sure of himself. "We've got every book you wrote! I think they're
really good, too," he told me candidly.
"Thank you!" I said, my ego always glad of praise from a young
admirer. He had said that they had ALL of my books and I tried to
remember how many there were.
"Eleven," said Chris.
"What?"
"That's how many books we have that you wrote." I heard Cory kick
his brother under the table and he quickly said, biting his lip, "Um,
I mean, you looked like you couldn't remember how many there were."
"You're right, I didn't." I couldn't help thinking that this boy
seemed to be able to read me as well as he could read my books.
Strange.
"We better go now," said Cory, giving his brother a look I
couldn't understand. "Mom's probably wondering where we are."
"Tell her to stop by later on for a cup of coffee, and let me know
if she needs any help with anything. Feel free to come by yourselves
anytime too," I added sincerely.
"OK, Tom," said Cory, politely putting his glass and his brother's
in the sink. "See ya later!" I was glad he hadn't called me
'Mr.Jannings'. Neighbors should always be on a first-name basis.
As they left I found myself looking at their tight little buns and
the smooth backs of their legs. Chris turned around just then and
smiled at me, before running to catch his brother. It seemed my life
had taken an interesting turn, and there was definitely something
strange about my new friends that I couldn't quite put my finger on.
Later in the day I hadn't gotten very far with my book. My
thoughts kept returning to Cory and Chris, and it was hard to keep
them separate from the boy I was writing about. I got up and started
a pot of coffee brewing and was about to watch the news on TV when
someone knocked on the door. The boys were back with their mother in
tow, a nice looking woman with brown, wavy hair like her sons', about
my age or maybe a little older. "Hi," she said, smiling and holding
out her hand, "I'm Susan Gibson, your new neighbor. The twins said we
had a celebrity living next door so we came for your autograph." She
looked at the box the boys were carrying between them as I shook her
hand.
"Nice to meet you Susan, I'm Tom Jannings but I guess they already
told you that. Come on in, I just started some coffee a few minutes
ago." I led the way to the living room and the boys dropped their box
on the floor, flopping down on either side of me on the couch while
Susan took a chair. "Did you bring me a gift or are you moving in
with me?" I asked the boys jokingly.
They smiled and one of them said, "No, these are all your books."
"Well, just because my name is on them doesn't mean you have to
give them back to me," I said, playing dumb.
"No, silly," said the other one (Cory?), "we want you to autograph
'em."
"You're supposed to ASK him, Cory," said his mother reprovingly.
"He would have," I said, coming to his defense, "if I wasn't
having such fun teasing him." I grabbed his bare leg just above the
knee and lightly squeezed, making him laugh and squirm. That's always
been one of my favorite places to tickle a boy. "Why don't you guys
come to the kitchen with me and we'll get something to drink while
your mom rests her bones? You take anything in your coffee, Susan?"
"Black, please. Are you sure I can't help?"
"Positive. You just take it easy," I said, getting up. The boys
followed me into the kitchen and I showed them where the glasses were,
telling them to make themselves at home and help themselves to ice and
pop while I got the coffee. When we returned to the living room Susan
was standing by my computer desk, and I could see her looking at the
bronze figurine of a nude boy laying on his side, next to my terminal.
"Inspiration?" she asked. I was sure she had noticed the poster
on the wall also.
"You could say that," I answered. I gave her one of the cups of
coffee and took a pen from the desk before sitting back down between
Cory and Chris. I opened the box the boys had brought in and groaned.
"You guys want me to sign ALL of these?"
"Please?" said the one on my left (Chris?), giving me that
pleading puppy-dog look that little boys are so talented at, and which
I'm totally defenseless to resist.
"We really do like 'em," his brother cajoled me from the right.
"They're our favorite books."
"Ah, flattery will get you everywhere," I said, digging into the
box and beginning my task. They must have read the books often; most
were faded and dog-eared. I came across the first one I ever wrote
(dedicated to my parents) and noticed it was from the first printing,
almost five years ago. "You guys couldn't have been more than five
years old when this one came out," I observed.
"That's the first book they ever read by themselves," Susan told
me proudly. "They were reading Mark Twain, Moby Dick, Hardy Boys, all
before they were seven."
"And you like my books best?" My books sold well but I wasn't used
to being compared to Mark Twain.
"Yeah, we really do," Chris told me eagerly. "You write stories
about boys but it's not like you're a grown-up talking to a kid, using
simple words and stuff. You know what I mean?" He wasn't sure if he
was getting his point across.
"Yes, I do. That's why I put a glossary in the back of each book,
so a kid can look up a word I used that he doesn't know."
"It's your fault I had to go out and buy a college dictionary for
them," said their mother, grinning. "I've read all your books
myself," she added, "and I always imagined a man with such insights
and understanding of boys must have a dozen of them running around the
house." I saw her glance at the poster. "Chris and Cory said you
weren't married; I hope they weren't rude with all their questions."
She gave each boy a stern look, who, of course, looked innocently back
at her.
"No, they weren't rude at all. In fact, I asked my own questions
too, just to get even." I grabbed a boy in each arm and tickled their
sides, their giggling laughs like music in my ears. Although I wanted
to keep my arms around them in a hug I didn't want to risk being too
forward in front of Susan, and returned to my task of book-signing.
"As to my so-called understanding of boys," I told her, reaching for
another book, "I guess it helps that I'm still a kid at heart. I try
to look at the world with a kid's eyes, wondering how things work,
playing games on the computer and so on...It also helps that I don't
have a real job," I added, giving her my best, boyish grin.
She laughed and said, "Yes, I suppose not having to go to work
every day would definitely help keep you young. I certainly envy you
on that count. My father is buying our condo for us, but it's still
hard to make ends meet. I hate to accept charity like that, but this
place is a lot better for the boys than in the city."
Cory and Chris had sat quietly while we talked, very well-mannered
for nine-year-olds, I thought. I signed the last of their 11 books
and held my arm out, with my wrist limp. "I may be a writer but this
is the first time I've ever had 'writer's cramp'."
They all laughed and the boys said 'thanks' in stereo, laughing
again. They asked about the neighborhood: where the stores were,
where McDonalds was. Cory wanted to know where the nearest soccer
field was while Chris was interested in the library. They might be
identical in appearance but they had two separate and distinct
personalities. They were both interested in the swimming pool by the
clubhouse however, and eagerly asked their mom if they could go
swimming tomorrow. She said she would be too busy unpacking to be
able to watch them. I saw their faces fall in disappointment and
seized opportunity by the horns, volunteering to take her place.
"Are you sure you don't mind?" she asked. "They can be quite a
handful." Cory and Chris gave her comical looks of indignation, as if
such a suggestion were ridiculous.
I assured her it would be no problem at all, and she gave her
consent. Then she told the boys to pack up their books, thanking me
for the coffee and getting up to leave. The twins thanked me again
for signing all the books, telling me with boyish sincerity that they
would keep them forever and never ever sell them. I told them to come
get me when they wanted to go swimming, and told Susan to drop by
anytime as they left. If I hadn't been the sort of man who was
romantically inclined to young boys I suppose I would have been
attracted to her, instead. Such was not the case, however.
CHAPTER 2
The next morning Cory and Chris showed up at my door at
ten-o-clock; exactly when the pool opened, I might add. It was
already 80 degrees outside, a typical, early August morning, and the
boys were barefoot and wearing only their gym shorts. They said their
mom wouldn't let them put on their swimming-trunks until I said we
could go, so I wouldn't feel obligated. I told them to go ahead and
get ready and I'd take them when they came back, all the while trying
to nonchalantly gaze at their bare chests, so smooth and soft, with
small, sun-browned nipples that I longed to touch. Their bodies were
as identical as their faces: a light sprinkling of freckles on their
narrow shoulders, ribs that were only hinted at beneath their tender
skin, slightly rounded bellies with just the right amount of baby-fat
and small, indented navels, and long, gorgeously formed legs that were
tanned and smooth down to their small feet. Simply beautiful. Before
they left I said, "Wait a minute. I want to see if I have you two
figured out yet." I looked at the boy on the right. "You're Chris,
right?"
"Right!" he beamed, obviously pleased.
"And, my dear Watson," I said, doing my Sherlock Holmes
impersonation, "through the process of elimination I can deduce that
your identical sibling is therefore the esteemed Cory."
"Elementary," said Cory, with the same British accent and an
impish grin. Either they had read the books or seen the old movies
with Basil Rathbone (THE Sherlock Holmes, in my opinion). These two
were definitely not your average nine-year-olds.
"We saw the movies," Chris informed me, even though I hadn't
asked. His twin grabbed him by the arm and pulled, saying it was
getting hotter every minute so let's get moving before we all melted.
I watched them head back to their place, Cory still holding his
brother by the arm, obviously agitated about something. Chris said
something that sounded like, "I can't help it! I LIKE him!" I didn't
know what the problem was; I liked them, too.
I changed into my own swimming trunks and just as I was grabbing a
towel from the closet the boys returned. They knocked on the door and
opened it themselves this time, coming inside to wait and asking
impatiently if I was ready yet. I turned to look at them, hoping to
see even more exposed boy-skin, but they were each wearing those
damned 'clam-digger' shorts, the kind that covered everything between
navel and knees and seemed to be all the rage this year. Whoever
designed those things should be shot, I lamented. My disappointment
must have shown because Chris looked at his shorts and back at me with
a perplexed expression. "You don't like our swim-suits?" he asked.
How to explain to him that a boy should be unencumbered by all
that cloth when swimming? That he should show off as much of his
beautiful body as was legally permitted? That I wanted to SEE as much
of his beautiful body as I could? "Oh, they're OK, I guess," I said,
not wanting to hurt their feelings. "Personally though, I think those
things look old-fashioned, like a long time ago people wore suits that
covered their whole bodies. I hope that doesn't come next," I added
with a shudder.
They looked thoughtfully at each other, probably wondering why I
made a big deal over swim-suits, no doubt. I put a hand on each small
shoulder and ran both down the bare skin of their backs, pushing them
out the door and heading off any further questions.
There were a few other people at the pool and the twins threw
their towels on a chair and tested the water with dainty feet. The
antics began immediately as Cory pushed his 'baby brother' in. Chris
came up spluttering, shaking the water out of his eyes as he tried
splashing Cory, who ran back to the fence and made a running dive into
the pool. They were in the deep end, but I could tell they were both
competent swimmers as they treaded water, beckoning me to join them.
I threw my towel next to theirs and ran straight at them, doing a
cannonball. I stayed under-water and swam for the shallow end, coming
up to see them looking for me. They laughed when they saw me and swam
over. I grabbed one and threw his light body into the air, watching
him splash into the water with arms and legs akimbo and a gleeful
scream. Of course, his twin wanted the same action and I gladly
obliged. I took turns, throwing first one and then the other, my
hands roaming freely over their slippery skins, delighting in the
hardness of their little nipples when I casually brushed over them.
We played in the water until I was exhausted, but of course their
own energy was boundless. One of them jumped on my back while I was
heading for the side, intending to take a rest. "Where do think
you're going?" he demanded, playfully.
"I need a break, Chris," I said. As I said his name I wondered
how I knew it was him, since I was unable to see him and their voices
were exactly alike. I knew it was Chris though, somehow.
"He's tired, Chris," said his brother. "I think we wore him out
already. He's old, you know."
Of course I couldn't let him get away with that, so with Chris
still on my back I whirled around and grabbed Cory, which was what he
had intended by his jibe. I poked and dug my fingers in his sides,
armpits and belly, tickling him until he begged for mercy. I released
him and he jumped on me in the shallow water, grabbing me around the
neck and wrapping his legs around me and the legs of Chris, still on
my back.
"Now we've got you," he said, stating the obvious. Chris giggled
in my ear.
I put my hands on his sides, running them over his water-slick
skin, my face inches from his. "OK, you've got me," I said, playing
along. "What're you going to do?"
"Let's dunk him!" said Chris, and immediately they began pushing
down on my shoulders, trying to get me to go under. I was standing in
four or five feet of water, but I slid beneath the surface to make
them happy. I had dunked them repeatedly, and it was only fair to let
them do the same. When I came back up the boys climbed on me again,
front and back, only now Chris was in front.
"I know how to get you guys off," I teased. Not that I really
wanted to; I could go several weeks at least before getting tired of
being in the middle of a twin-sandwich, but their mother might want
them back, eventually.
"Bet you can't!" said Chris, smiling and hugging me tighter.
I took a deep breath and sank to the bottom, taking them with me,
and simply sat there, waiting. Chris was the first to run out of air
and break for the surface, followed a few seconds later by Cory. I
stayed under for a while longer, watching them stand on their toes to
keep their heads above water, and cursing the designer of their shorts
again before coming up for air. "No fair," they yelled, "your lungs
are bigger!" I just smiled at them as I headed for the steps leading
out of the pool. Chris came at me again, intending to stop me.
"No Chris," said his brother, looking serious, "let him take a
break. He really IS tired." I was, but I didn't think I looked it. I
saw Chris give him a surprised look, and Cory's expression looked
exactly like Chris's had yesterday, when Chris had said he already
knew my name. I wondered about it, as I went to the chair and grabbed
my towel, sitting down as they resumed their play. They seemed to be
especially adept at reading other people's expressions. It didn't
seem to be anything to be embarrassed about, although it could be
unsettling at times.
One of the neighborhood boys, Jeremy, a good looking
twelve-year-old that I met here at the pool a year ago, came through
the gate. He saw me and waved, smiling, and came over to say 'hi'.
He had on a tight pair of swim-trunks, showing most of his smooth legs
and a nice young bulge. He was one of the reasons I came to the pool
so often. "Hi Tom!" he said. "You'll never finish your book if you
keep coming here every day." He wagged his finger at me, scolding with
mock seriousness.
"I know, I know, but I promised my new neighbors I'd take them
swimming while their mom finished unpacking." I pointed at Cory and
Chris, frolicking in the water.
Jeremy studied them, sizing up the younger boys. "Twins?" he
asked.
"You're quick," I said teasing him. He swatted my shoulder in
return. "The one doing the dunking is Chris, and the one getting
dunked is Cory," I informed him.
"How can you tell them apart?" he asked, obviously unable to do so
himself.
I realized again that I was sure of which one was which, even
though they were at the other end of the pool, and I didn't really
know how I was doing it. I was absolutely positive though. "I guess
it's because I've gotten to know them," I said lamely, not really
believing it. They looked exactly alike from this distance, but I
seemed to be able to tell them apart anyway. Jeremy accepted my
explanation though, and tossed his towel on the ground before jumping
in the pool. He was a friendly kid, and swam over to the twins to
introduce himself. Soon enough, they were all playing together,
splashing and having races, which Jeremy won since he was bigger. The
twins made him work for it though, being excellent swimmers
themselves, and he climbed out of the pool to catch his breath,
sitting on the edge with his feet in the water.
I found my eyes drifting over to him, admiring his golden tan and
smooth, shapely thighs, but every time I looked at Jeremy Chris would
yell, "Hey Tom! Watch this!" and do a handstand or some other boyish
stunt. It was almost as if Chris didn't want me looking at Jeremy,
but that sounded ridiculous.
I was almost dry when Susan came over to get the boys for lunch,
telling them to get out of the water and asking if I wanted to join
them. I thanked her but said I wanted to stay by the pool a little
longer, and after she called two more times to the twins they finally
came out, sensing her growing anger. They knew their mother's limit,
I thought to myself, smiling.
"Thanks for watching them," said Susan, as Cory and Chris grabbed
towels and dried themselves off, the water sparkling on their
four-foot frames.
"No problem at all," I told her sincerely. "I had as much fun as
they did." The twins flashed their sunny smiles at me, and that was
all the thanks I really needed.
They said their goodbyes, and my eyes returned to watching Jeremy,
who was now swimming back and forth, doing laps. I felt someone
looking at me and turned to see Chris watching me over his shoulder as
he walked away. His eyes darted to Jeremy before returning to me, and
his expression showed he was frustrated, before he turned around
again. Could he really be jealous? Don't flatter yourself, I
thought, he's just upset because he couldn't stay here and swim.
When Jeremy left --making me promise to let him read my book if I
ever finished it-- I went home and fixed lunch, not bothering to
change out of my swim-suit, and ate a sandwich in front of my computer
while playing a game. It was one of those role-playing games, where
you take on the attributes of a certain character and have to find
things, uncover clues, battle monsters, and save the world and some
unfortunate princess from certain doom. Personally I would have
preferred to save a young princeling. I always chose to be a sorcerer
in these games. Something about magic and casting spells attracted
the boy in me, I guess.
I was battling a rather troublesome beast, trying to find the
right spell to kill it before getting killed myself (again), when the
twins knocked and came in, asking belatedly if they could do so. I
was glad they felt at home here, opening the door without waiting for
me to get up and answer it. I waved them over to me, noticing that
they had changed back into their loose-fitting gym shorts, which
showed more of their thighs than their bathing-suits did. Both boys
were shirtless, and when they came over to see what I was doing I put
a hand on Cory's bare back, loving the feel of his warm skin beneath
my fingers. Chris asked if they could play too, and I said sure, as
long as I could be the sorcerer. They agreed to my terms, and I
started the game over, punching in three players. I showed them the
options, and Cory chose to be a warrior, while Chris decided on the
minstrel, which also had some magical abilities. Cory went and got a
chair, but Chris decided to sit on my knee, which was fine with me. I
showed them how to control the figures and actions in the game, but
since only one person actually controlled everything they had to tell
me what they wanted their character to do, such as fight, talk, or
cast a spell. We took turns at the keyboard however, to keep it
interesting, and had arguments over what certain clues meant or where
we should go exploring.
"Maybe I should write down some of these clues before we forget
'em," said Cory, while Chris threw spells at a monster.
"Good idea, Watson," I said, making him grin. "There's paper and
a pen right in front of you." We went over the clues we had already
come across and Cory dutifully wrote each one down before taking his
turn at the computer. I noticed they didn't argue about whose turn it
was, unlike most brothers or boys in general, but simply switched
without saying anything. They certainly got along well with each
other, I thought.
Chris leaned back a little, still sitting on my knee, and I placed
my hand on his shoulder, letting it rest there a few seconds before
running it lightly over the soft, warm skin of his back. He turned
his head and smiled at me, letting me know that he liked it. Even
though we had only met yesterday it was like the three of us were old
friends already, I thought, amazed. As if to confirm this, Chris
moved back on my leg, leaning his bare back against my chest and
sitting in my lap. I folded my hands on his belly as we leaned back
in the chair, holding him against me in a loose hug. He put his hands
on top of mine, making himself comfortable, and the feeling of holding
this warm, soft young boy against me filled me with pleasure. I was
glad he didn't think he was too old for such cuddling. I moved a
thumb in small circles over his smooth tummy, and felt the beginnings
of an erection in my swim-suit. I hoped Chris wouldn't be able to
feel it under his butt, and I tried to relax and stop myself from
getting turned on. His naked skin against my own made that hard to do
though. Cory, sitting at the computer, reached down between his legs
and fondled himself through his shorts, almost as if he had an
erection also and was repositioning it, but I couldn't tell from this
angle. Chris giggled when he saw his brother had let his attention
wander and had gotten our characters into a bad situation.
"Better let Tom take his turn if you're going to play with
yourself instead of the game," he told Cory tauntingly.
Cory turned and gave me a reproachful look, as if it was MY fault
he had a hard-on, then got out of the chair, showing a definite little
bulge beneath his shorts. "Can I get something to drink?" he asked,
ignoring his stimulated condition, which was causing my own to
increase even more.
"Sure Cory," I said, my voice shaking. "Help yourself. You know
where everything is." He turned and went to the kitchen, and Chris
yelled for Cory to get a Coke for him, too.
I was about to add that he get me a beer while he was at it when
he returned, holding two cans of Coke in one hand and a beer in the
other. "I thought you might want something, too," he explained, and
handed me one of the Cokes, his eyes dancing with mischief as he tried
not to smile.
"Thank you," I answered, "but I think I'll have the beer. We
don't want your mother to beat me silly when we've only just met."
"You're no fun," he accused, pouting and giving me the beer.
"I'm old, remember? You said so yourself."
"I was just kidding," he said seriously. "Are you gonna take your
turn or not?"
"No, I'll pass this time. Chris, you can go ahead if you want." I
tickled his sides, making him giggle and squirm in my lap, causing my
dick to get even harder.
"OK," he said, getting up suddenly and taking Cory's chair. Cory
immediately replaced his brother on my lap. Apparently I was being
shared, I thought to myself.
Chris giggled. "What's so funny?" I asked him, as Cory leaned
back against me.
"Oh, nothing," he said cryptically, as he took control of the
game.
Before I opened my beer I rolled the cold can over Cory's bare
belly, making him yelp in surprise as I held it against him. We
opened our cans and took a drink, and then we all belched in unison,
making us laugh until we were out of breath. "Can I have a sip?"
asked Cory, eyeing my beer hopefully.
"Okay, but just a swallow," I said, figuring it wouldn't hurt him.
He took two giant gulps before I pulled the can away, and then
performed a long, deep belch. "I suppose you want some, too," I said
to Chris.
"No thanks, I don't like beer," he declared, making a sour face.
"It gives me a headache." He took another sip from his Coke before
turning back to the game.
I put my can of beer on the desk and Cory sank deeper into my lap,
hanging his right leg over the padded armrest of the chair and giving
me a blood-stirring view of his crotch as the hem of his shorts rose
upwards. Yielding to my instinctual desires I put my hand on his bare
thigh, while my other hand rested on his stomach. Unable to resist
his enticing flesh, and receiving no complaint from Cory, I started
slowly moving my hand in small circles over the satiny, dreamy
softness of his leg, boldly inching farther up towards the young boy's
groin until I was stroking from his knee almost to his crotch. He
must have been able to feel my hard-on pressing into his back but he
said nothing, and I noticed his own shorts had something pushing up
beneath them once again. Daringly, I ran my hand to the edge of the
fabric and stopped, my fingers tracing along the border. Cory
responded by lifting his leg farther up on the armrest, spreading
himself and letting me know I could continue. My fingers explored
just under his shorts, expecting to make contact with his underpants
and failing to find any as I touched the incredibly tender junction of
leg and scrotum.
"Sorry," I apologized as I felt the boy's leg twitch reflexively.
I moved my hand a safe distance from his groin, hoping he would think
it had been an accident. I couldn't believe I had been so daring,
touching him so intimately when we had only known each other for one
day! I had been unable to pass up the opportunity, however.
"That's OK," he said calmly. "It just tickled." Chris looked over
his shoulder at us and smiled an uncomfortably knowing smile. Did
they realize what I was? That I thought they were the most incredibly
beautiful boys I had ever seen? As much as I wanted to touch Cory
there again I didn't dare; even though he hadn't complained I wasn't
ready to start openly fondling him. I couldn't move that fast even if
HE wanted me to.
Seeming to sense my hesitation, Cory sighed and lowered his leg so
he could lean forward and grab his pop. Chris cocked his head as if
he were listening to something and said, "Mom's looking for us."
"How do you know that?" I asked.
"Um...I heard her call. Didn't you?" He looked quickly at his
brother, as if seeking confirmation.
Cory nodded. I hadn't heard anything, but then my ears were
filled with a pounding heartbeat from touching him. "You better go
see what she wants then," I told them, but just then someone knocked
on the door.
"Come on in, Mom!" Chris yelled, looking at me with a shrug.
Susan walked in and I didn't have time to ask how he knew it was her,
or how she knew they were here. My erection quickly wilted as I tried
not to appear guilty of what I had just done.
"Are these two bothering you?" she asked, giving the boys a stern
look. The fact that Cory was sitting calmly in the lap of someone
they had just met didn't seem to bother her.
"No, not at all. We were just playing a game on the computer."
She laughed and said, "You realize you'll never get rid of them
now, don't you? They've been badgering me to get one for quite a
while now but they don't seem to understand how expensive it is. They
have to settle for Nintendo."
"Sometimes I think I use it more for playing games than I do for
writing books," I grinned. "It's nice to have someone to play with
for a change," I added, tickling Cory.
"Well, I need to get some groceries now that the unpacking is
finished." She looked at the boys. "Come on you two. Leave Tom alone
for awhile. I'm sure he has better things to do."
Actually, I didn't. How better to spend one's time than with
boys? The twins immediately protested. "Aw, Mom," said one. "Can't
we stay home?" said the other.
"No," she said firmly. "I'm not leaving you guys alone. You're
not THAT old, yet."
I was debating whether to volunteer to baby-sit when Chris looked
at me hopefully, obviously thinking the same thing. "I wouldn't mind
watching them," I told her. "That's basically what I was doing before
you got here." Chris gave me a big smile, then watched his mother for
the verdict.
She looked at Chris, and something unspoken seemed to pass between
them. She nodded, and said to me, "If you're sure you don't mind, I
guess it's ok. I won't be gone long." She looked at Chris again and
then turned to leave, closing the door behind her.
"Thanks, Tom," said the twins in unison. "We promise we'll be
very good," Cory added with a mischievous smile, his eyes twinkling.
What was THAT supposed to mean, I worried?
We continued the game, talking about school, sports, and generally
just getting to know each other better. They were both very
articulate; I was quite impressed with their vocabulary, and felt a
small amount of pride that my books had helped. Chris asked what my
new one was about, and we paused the game so I could bring it up on
the screen and show him. I let them read the beginning so they could
get an idea. It was about a young boy who writes a computer program
to do all his homework, and while that may sound like a good idea the
boy wasn't learning anything that way.
"But if he could write a program like that wouldn't he already be
pretty smart?" asked Chris.
"Yes, he's smart when it comes to computers but if the computer
answers all his homework for him he doesn't learn about anything
else."
They both pondered the pros and cons of this, which is what most
of my books intend for them to do. In the end Cory decided the
computer sounded like a good idea, but Chris thought the boy in the
story was only cheating himself.
Before we knew it Susan was back with her groceries and the boys
went off to help her. She thanked me for watching them and I told her
with honest sincerity, "Anytime!"
Apparently Susan took me seriously, because the next morning she
came over with a proposition. "I have to go back to work tomorrow,"
she began, "and I'm looking for someone to watch the boys. They seem
to be quite taken with you; you're all they talk about lately. Would
you be interested?" she asked hopefully.
Before I could answer she added, "I wouldn't be able to pay you
very much, and my hours change a lot, but the boys are fairly
well-behaved and I'm sure they wouldn't be too much trouble. In fact,
they're the ones who talked me into asking you."
I couldn't believe this! Here was a woman I had only met two days
ago and she was willing to practically give me her sons! I hesitated,
not wanting to appear overly anxious. "Well...Sure, I guess that
would be alright. I'm home all day anyway, so it wouldn't be any
trouble or anything."
She looked at me as if she saw right through me, just like Chris
did, but she looked relieved as well. "That would really be great,
Tom. My mother was going to commute every day from the north-side,
but she's not really comfortable with the twins." She hesitated.
"They have a way of knowing...How to put this?" she frowned. "They're
very good at sensing other people's feelings, and it makes some people
uncomfortable." She looked at me as if this revelation might change my
mind. It also seemed as if she wasn't telling me everything.
"As a matter of fact, I'd noticed that myself," I told her. "It
doesn't really bother me. As far as paying me goes, you can forget
that right now. Like I said, I'm at home all day anyways. Besides,"
I added slyly, "they might give me inspiration for another book."
"Well then we'll have to talk royalties," she joked, laughing.
"Seriously Tom, I really appreciate this. You have no idea how much
this helps."
Shortly after she left, as I was sitting there in a kind of
dumbfounded haze, the twins burst in with huge grins on there impish
faces. "I TOLD her you'd say 'yes'," Chris informed me triumphantly,
jumping next to me on the couch.
"Oh?" I looked at him skeptically. "What made you so sure?"
"I just knew," he said simply. "Wanna go swimming?" he asked
hopefully. They were conveniently wearing their swim-suits, I
noticed.
"Well, since you seem to know everything," I teased, "what do YOU
think I want to do?"
Chris looked at me, his brown eyes penetrating. "What you REALLY
want to do is--"
"Chris!" Cory yelled warningly, looking alarmed.
Chris's eyes twinkled. "--go swimming." He looked at his brother
innocently, and Cory scowled at him. Did the boy really know what I
would have liked to do? Namely, love him intimately? These two had
me completely off balance. I was used to the black-on-white boys
printed in my books, not to flesh-and-blood scamps who seemed to see
right through me. I never knew where I stood with these two. I
shrugged it off and went to my bedroom to put on my swim-suit, glad
that they appeared to like me as much as I liked them.
CHAPTER 3
After Susan went off to work the following morning --giving me the
phone number at the hospital and telling the boys to behave before
leaving-- I took the twins to play mini-golf in town. Being with Cory
and Chris was making me feel like a kid again. I had always imagined
the things I would like to do if I had a son, and now I had two
nine-year-olds looking to me for entertainment. After the first
couple of holes it was obvious that I would win, so on the next few
putts I didn't aim as carefully, hoping to even the score.
Chris watched me critically as I missed the cup and said, "You
don't have to do that, Tom."
"Do what?" I replied innocently.
"You're missing on purpose. It's nice of you but you don't have
to do it. We're not sore losers."
I should have known better than to try and fool him. "Sorry," I
said, somewhat ashamed at having been caught. Then I teased him.
"It's just that you guys seem to think that the HIGHEST score wins."
They both came at me with golf-clubs raised, trying to look
fierce. "Okay, okay," I laughed, retreating. "I take it back!"
After I beat them at mini-golf we went to the arcade inside the
local mall. Chris and I played "Death Star" while Cory went off to
play pinball. It didn't take long for me to realize that Chris had
played this before, as he deftly out-maneuvered aliens and attacking
space ships while I floundered along. Then he seemed to suddenly lose
his skill, losing lives as fast as I was.
"You don't have to do that," I told him.
He looked at me with a guilty smile as he realized he had been
caught doing the same thing I had done while playing golf. I put my
arm around him in a hug, and we both laughed. He then proceeded to
get a bazillion points to my several thousand. I didn't mind in the
least, though.
When we were all out of quarters Cory suggested we go check out
the sporting-goods store. As we walked through the mall I felt a
small hand smoothly slip into my own, and I looked down to my left to
see Chris smiling at me. As Cory took my other hand I was filled with
a warm fondness for my young friends. Occasionally my eyes roamed
over a boy passing the other way, but then I would feel a slight
increase of pressure on my hands as the twins tightened their grips,
as if to remind me they were there. We found the sports store and
wandered around inside, checking out the latest hundred-dollar
sneakers with air-pumps in the heels, basketballs and baseball mitts,
until I found myself looking at the boys' section of speedo
swim-suits, so provocative looking, and wondered to myself what Cory
and Chris would look like wearing them.
Cory came up beside me, looking first at the display rack and then
at me. "You don't like our swim-suits, do you," he stated, looking up
at me.
"Well, like I told you, I think they're kind of old-fashioned." I
wasn't sure what he would think if I suggested one of these, but then
he suggested it for me.
"Do you think I'd look good in a speedo?" he asked, absently
looking through the small, nylon bikinis as Chris joined us.
"Whatcha doin'?" he asked Cory.
"Looking at swim-suits," said his brother. He picked a minuscule
scrap of cloth from the rack --bright red with a black racing stripe--
and held it in front of his crotch. He eyed me suggestively. "Could
I try this on?"
As my heartbeat increased Chris said he wanted to try one on too,
but he wanted me to pick it out for him. I shakily looked through the
display and pulled out a black one with a red stripe. "How's this?" I
asked hesitantly.
He grinned and took it from me as they both headed to the dressing
room. I was actually trembling in anticipation, knowing without a
doubt how good they would look in them. If a good-looking boy had to
where something when swimming, it should --by law-- be a speedo.
I heard giggling behind the door and when it finally opened I felt
my eyes widen and my blood-pressure rise. They had taken off all
their clothes and were wearing only the small bikinis as they stood
watching my reaction with wide grins.
"Well, what do you think?" demanded Cory, cocking his scantily
clad hip to the side and striking a pose as Chris placed his hands
behind his head, doing the same. God, they were gorgeous.
My eyes were glued to their small cocks, so perfectly outlined
beneath the tight nylon; tiny balls also discernible. The bikinis fit
perfectly, riding well below their hip-bones in front and barely
covering their small, perky butts in the rear. I don't think I've
ever seen so much smooth, naked boy-skin exposed in public before. I
could see they would have to work on their tans though. Quite a bit
more skin was revealed than with their shorts, leaving the area around
their groins a ghostly pale.
I felt myself getting an erection as I admired their slim,
almost-nude, nine-year-old bodies, and was astounded to see Cory's
little penis imitating mine until it jutted out from his body beneath
the brief swim-suit. He blushed shyly and covered himself with one
hand.
Chris eyed Cory's condition and then looked at the tightly
stretched crotch of my jeans. "You like them a lot, don't you Tom,"
he said confidently.
I tore my eyes from Cory's concealed young member. "I think you
both look incredibly sexy," I blurted. I hoped they wouldn't mind if
I thought they were beautiful. Chris was obviously aware of the
effect they had on me, and I was sure Cory did, too.
"Then you'll buy 'em for us?" asked his brother. Just then a
store clerk came by and noticed the two bikini-clad boys in the
dressing room. "Sir," he said, rather rudely I thought, "I'm afraid
store policy requires bathing-suits to be tried-on over underwear.
You'll have to pay for those even if they don't fit."
The twins looked at me guiltily, as if they had known this. "We
were going to buy them anyway," I said, dismissing the clerk. "You
guys put your clothes back on." I smiled at them. "Last one to the
pool is a smelly fart!"
When we got back home we wolfed down sandwiches for lunch and I
snipped the tags off their new bikinis before we all changed. When
the boys emerged from the bathroom I was again impressed with their
well-proportioned young bodies. They looked adorably sexy in the tiny
briefs.
Once we were all in the pool my hands seemed to have a will of
their own as they sometimes brushed over the little bulges in the
twins' speedos, and roaming all over their slippery skins as we
played. We all decided to take a break after a while, and each of us
grabbed a lounge chair on the side of the pool, letting the hot
afternoon sun dry us off. The boys were lying flat on their backs on
either side of me, but I kept my chair slightly raised so my eyes
could roam the same way my hands had done.
I saw Jeremy arrive, and he walked over when he noticed us.
Normally I would have gazed at this beautiful specimen of boyhood, but
just then Chris put his arms behind his head, using them for an
improvised pillow and stretching himself out in the process. Jeremy
was talking but I hardly heard him as my eyes wandered over Chris's
semi-nude body. I enjoyed just watching him breath: each intake of
air expanded his thin chest, stretching him out further and making his
ribs and slender hips more prominent.
I mumbled something in reply to Jeremy, who astutely noticed that
I wasn't paying attention to him and wandered off. Chris looked at me
out of the corner of his eye, and I could have sworn he looked rather
smug, as if he had beaten the competition.
We spent the rest of the afternoon there, occasionally jumping in
the pool to cool off, until their mother finally came home from work.
She walked over when the boys called to her, still wearing her white
nurses' uniform, and they proudly showed off their new swim-suits. My
thoughts raced as I realized that in the heat of their purchase I had
failed to consider her reaction to the revealing briefs, or my
explanation for buying them.
"My, don't you two look sexy?" she smiled indulgently, echoing my
own comment as she looked at her scantily clad sons. I lowered my
head nervously as her eyes shifted to me. "You really shouldn't have
gone to the expense, Tom," she said. "Summer's almost over."
The boys were looking at me with amused expressions, waiting to
hear my explanation. "Well..." I coughed, not sure what to say.
"We told him we needed new ones," Chris piped up, coming to my
rescue. I had thought of saying that myself, but it wasn't really
true and I didn't want to get the twins in trouble. Our eyes met and
I silently thanked him. I thought I heard 'You're welcome', but his
lips hadn't moved.
Susan looked at him doubtfully, not quite believing it. "There
wasn't anything wrong with your old ones," she said. "They still
fit." She turned back to me. "Don't give in to them so easily, Tom,"
she scolded. "You'll spoil them. They do look cute though, don't
they?" she added suggestively.
I shrugged and smiled helplessly back, still not sure how to
answer. She laughed and gathered up the boys' towels, leading them
home for dinner. I watched as they trotted along behind her, admiring
their saucy, barely-covered little bottoms. Cory turned to wave
goodbye, his face lit up with a warm smile. I was honest enough with
myself to admit that I had fallen completely in love with the two of
them. It was more than a sexual attraction, though that was certainly
part of it. I wanted to make them smile and laugh, teach them what I
knew of life and guide them toward adulthood, give them presents so
they would know I cared for them, protect them from harm, hug them,
and kiss them. Making Cory and Chris happy made ME feel happy, too.
If you put aside our difference in ages, was the love I felt for them
any different than that felt between adults? Love is love, regardless
of the age or sex of the people involved. As long as it's mutual, why
should anyone care?
As I walked home I wondered if it WAS mutual. The twins had shown
there fondness for me by holding my hands --the simplest form of
affection-- as we walked through the mall. They seemed to flaunt
their boyishly sensual bodies within easy reach, almost daring me to
touch them, as if they knew I found them immensely attractive. Aside
from a short fling with a young cousin many years ago however, I had
no experience in dealing with a young boy's affection --other than in
the realm of fantasy-- and I didn't know how to respond. I wasn't
sure what Cory and Chris wanted, or if I dared to provide it...
CHAPTER 4
After taking a shower and eating dinner, I changed into a pair of
sweat-pants and went to work on my book. My publisher had been
nagging me about it, so I figured I better try and finish it. Right
around sunset the twins brightened my evening by putting in an
appearance.
"You busy?" Cory asked from the open door, seeing me at the
computer. His mirror-image stood beside him, both of them shoeless
and wearing only their favorite gym-shorts. I wondered if they ran
about half-naked all the time, or only when they were around me. I
dreaded the coming of winter, when they would be forced to cover up.
"No, I'm not doing anything that can't wait a while longer," I
told him. "I'd rather you came in than let all the cold air out." I
eyed the open door.
"Oops, sorry!" He pushed his brother inside and quickly shut the
door. "Mom yells at us all the time for the same thing."
"I wasn't yelling," I said as they came over. "I was merely
voicing an opinion." I noticed their hair was damp; they must have
just taken a bath. Together, I wondered?
"Mom's watchin' some dumb movie," said Chris, "so we came over
here."
"You guys want to play that game we started, I suppose?"
"I was hoping you'd say that." Cory grinned and eyed the computer.
I grabbed him in a hug and tickled his hips, but instead of
laughing he winced in pain, his breath hissing between clenched teeth.
"What's the matter?" I asked worrisomely, quickly letting him go.
"We got sunburned," Chris explained. He pulled down his shorts a
little and showed me a band of bright pink flesh running around his
lower back and belly. Cory lifted the hem of his shorts to display a
similar sunburned strip on his upper legs. I also noticed they
weren't wearing any underpants, getting a quick glimpse of Cory's
jewels.
"I should have given you guys some sun-tan lotion today," I said,
feeling guilty about letting the sun shine mercilessly on tender skin
that had never seen the light of day before. "You're new swim-suits
don't cover as much as the old ones did. Have you put any sunburn
cream on?"
They both shook their heads no, so I headed for my medicine
cabinet, intent on easing their discomfort. "Here," I said, handing
Chris the small bottle of lotion. "Put some of this on."
He reached for it, then hesitated. "Would you put it on for me?"
he asked shyly, looking like a helpless little waif.
"Sure, if you want." I tried to keep my voice calm as I opened the
plastic bottle. "Pull down your shorts a little."
Cory eyed the situation critically as Chris lowered his shorts a
few inches. "It'd prob'ly be easier if he laid down on the couch," he
suggested. I queried Chris with a look and he shrugged back, so I
walked over to the couch. "Sit down and Chris can lay across your
lap," Cory told me, trying to be helpful.
Following his instructions, I sat down and Chris climbed over me,
stretching himself across my lap and placing his belly on my legs. I
watched his thinly covered bottom squirm as he made himself
comfortable, resting his head on his arms. Cory watched as I lifted
the waistband of his brother's shorts, about to squirt some lotion on
the sunburned skin.
"Hang on a sec," he grinned mischievously, his eyes lit with
inspiration. He grabbed the waistband from me and jerked it down,
exposing Chris's perky little butt.
"HEY!" Chris objected, yelling at his twin. He twisted his head
around to see what Cory was doing.
What Cory was doing was trying to pull off his brother's shorts,
but they were caught underneath the boy's hips. "Help me out," he
laughed, looking at me. Who was I to argue? I put a hand under each
side of a protesting Chris and lifted. Cory quickly de-pantsed his
brother, pulling the shorts completely off and leaving me with a naked
nine-year- old lying across my lap.
"Two against one!" Chris complained. "No fair!" Cory taunted him
by dangling the shorts in front of his face, just out of reach.
"C'mon Cor, give 'em back!"
"Tell you what," Cory bargained. "You can pull off mine when it's
my turn."
Chris considered this, and decided it was fair. "Promise?" he
asked, just to seal the deal.
"Double-promise," said Cory firmly, holding out the pinky of his
right hand. Chris reached out and linked his little finger with
Cory's, in some kind of twinly ritual.
Satisfied, Chris relaxed again, giving me my cue that I could
proceed with the ministrations. I shakily squeezed out a small dab of
lotion on my fingertips, gazing at the pale, rounded posterior of my
young friend. There was a two-inch strip of pink skin running around
his waist, just above his crack, and likewise around the tops of his
legs, just below his little bum, leaving a triangular patch of pale
skin between. I gently touched the lotion to the inflamed skin on his
lower back.
"Ooooh, that's cold!" Chris squealed. I softly rubbed the cream
into his skin, watching his little bottom flex and twitch as he
squirmed against me. All of this activity in my lap gave me an
erection, and occasionally the boy's hip rocked against it, making me
even harder.
"Feel better?" I asked him, putting some lotion on the backs of
his legs, rubbing just the edges of his soft buttocks.
"Uh-huh," Chris sighed, spreading his legs apart slightly as I
stroked down between them. My fingertips touched his little boy-sack,
and he jerked his legs back together, giggling "That tickles!"
Cory had been watching silently, but now he sank to his knees on
the floor beside us, dropping his brother's shorts. "Put some on his
back," he told me softly.
I obliged, squirting a thin stream of lotion from Chris's neck
down to his butt, the coldness of it making his back and shoulder
muscles ripple beneath his soft skin. Cory tenderly massaged the
cream into his brother's back, smiling fondly at him. He obviously
cared deeply for his 'baby brother', and I felt an emotional lump in
my throat watching him.
Playfully, I sprinkled some lotion on Chris's bottom, gently
stroking his baby-soft globes. "Hey," Chris laughed, "my BUTT isn't
burnt!"
"Ooops, I guess you're right. I know a way to make it LOOK
burned, though." So saying, I slapped his bare behind; soft enough so
that it wouldn't hurt, but hard enough to make him yell and jump in
surprise. Cory laughed wickedly. "Yeah, spank him!" he enthused,
brotherly-love forgotten. With his approval, I smacked his brother's
rear-end again.
"OWWW! HEY!" Chris yelled in distress, realizing his twin had
turned traitor. "I'll tell Tom to spank YOU when it's your turn!" he
threatened.
That wiped the grin off his face. He looked at me worrisomely.
"You wouldn't, would you?"
"Of course I would," I teased. "This is fun!" I swatted the
bouncing butt again for emphasis, and gave it a little pinch for good
measure, watching the two halves clench tightly together as Chris
squealed again. I was enjoying myself immensely.
"Maybe that's enough," said Cory diplomatically. "I don't want
him to get even."
"Well, okay," I relented. "If you insist." I laughed as Chris
turned his head to scowl darkly at both of us. "I'm sorry Chris," I
told him, "but I just couldn't resist." What boy-lover could?
"Hmmph!" he grunted, his pride wounded more than his posterior.
Not wanting him to be angry, I tickled his sides. He squirmed and
tried to hold in his giggles, but they soon burst out.
"Forgive me?" I asked, digging into his armpits and causing
another fit of wiggles and laughter from the naked boy.
"Okay, okay," he shouted. "I forgive you! Stop tickling me!
You're driving me NUTS!"
"Alright then," I smiled. "I just didn't want you to hold a
grudge." I stroked his bare back and he smiled over his shoulder at
me, letting me know that he was having fun too. I looked at his
brother. "Your turn?" I asked.
"But you didn't do his front," Cory pointed out.
Nobody said anything as we realized Chris would have to roll over
on his back for this. "It's okay, Chris," Cory said, sensing his
brother's reluctance and trying to reassure him. "We're all boys."
"Are you gonna let him do YOUR front?" he wanted to know first.
"Sure," said Cory, shrugging. "I'm sunburned there, too."
"Okay then." He lifted himself off my lap and slowly turned over,
placing his hands modestly between his legs before laying back down.
Cory gently tried pulling his brother's hands away, but Chris
resisted. "It's okay," he said again, trying more firmly. This time,
Chris reluctantly allowed his twin to remove his hands, placing them
behind his head and arching his back across my legs. I swallowed hard
as my eyes wandered over the naked nine-year-old's body, his tender
little genitals exposed for all to see. His small, circumcised penis
was laying limply to one side, and his tiny balls hung loosely in
their satiny scrotum.
"You're a beautiful boy," I told him quietly.
He blushed prettily and then he smiled, letting me know he liked
the compliment. Cory handed me the bottle of lotion, reminding me of
my task. The sunburn continued here in the front, making a pale,
triangular outline around his hairless groin, with a one-inch strip
running around his hips. I put some lotion on my fingers and gently
stroked the pink band of skin on his belly, making his stomach jump as
the soothing cream did it's work. I widened my massage, caressing the
boy's entire tummy, going briefly south to nudge his little member to
the other side and making him giggle in surprise. My own member was
throbbing mightily, but it's relief would have to wait.
I continued downward, putting more lotion on his legs. I winced
in sympathy as I saw the burn going around his tender thighs, just
short of his crotch. Gently I spread his legs, rubbing their
innermost parts, occasionally brushing the edge of his scrotum and
making his legs tremble, while my other hand continued stroking his
bare belly.
All of this stimulating attention had the desired effect: Chris's
little penis started to magically grow before my eyes. I continued my
efforts, daring to tickle his balls and making him squirm. I watched,
enthralled, as his tiny pecker came slowly to attention until it was
sticking up in the air like a miniature missile-launcher, but I didn't
think his immature testes were making any 'ammunition' yet. It was
adorably sexy: maybe two-and-a-half inches long, the tiny piss-slit
topping a somewhat bell-shaped, pale-lavender head as it poked up
unashamedly from his belly like an extra little thumb.
Embarrassed at his erection, Chris made a move to cover himself,
but Cory stopped him. "Mine's stiff, too," he told his brother,
drawing our attention to the bulge under his shorts.
"So's mine," I said, smiling as they curiously looked at the
crotch of my sweat-pants, my hard-on obvious. They were so calm and
relaxed that I didn't mind admitting it.
Cory impulsively reached out and squeezed my dick through the
fabric, startling the crap out of me. "It's BIG," he giggled, his
brown eyes wide. He softly petted his brother's boner, and Chris took
it so calmly that I imagined it had been touched this way before.
"His is just a little one," he said, playing with it thoughtfully.
"Your's isn't any bigger!" Chris declared, insulted. He knocked
Cory's hand away and sat up in my lap, putting his arms around my neck
and surprising me by kissing my cheek. "Thanks Tom," he smiled. "My
sunburn feels better now."
I hugged the naked boy to my chest, but unfortunately I didn't get
to enjoy it very long because Cory yelled, "My turn!" jumping up and
hooking his thumbs in his shorts, about to pull them down.
"Hey, you promised!" Chris pouted, feeling cheated.
Cory rolled his eyes comically and held his arms out away from his
body. Chris laughed delightedly at the chance to strip his twin,
thereby evening the score. He climbed off my lap and got down on his
knees behind Cory, grabbing the bottom of the shorts and yanking them
down. Unfortunately for Cory, his little dick was still poking in the
opposite direction --a perfect clothes hanger-- and I cringed as the
waistband caught and jerked his hard-on in a direction it didn't want
to go. His upper-body jack-knifed forward as he yelled out in pain,
quickly unhooking himself and dropping his shorts to the floor.
"JESUS!" he swore, his eyes watering in agony as he fingered his
abused member, which --too late-- was quickly wilting. "You could
have broken it off!" he shouted at his twin.
"I'm sorry," Chris apologized meekly. He moved his brother's hand
away to make sure it was alright, and I watched --amazed, and more
than a little jealous-- as he knelt forward to kiss it, planting a
smooch right where it joined Cory's body. "Better?" he asked
hopefully.
Cory looked pointedly at me, as if reminding his brother that I
was there. Chris turned, biting his lip worrisomely, realizing I was
now aware that their love for each other went beyond mere affection
into the realm of intimacy. I smiled reassuringly at the two naked
sprites, the one kneeling before the other, letting them know their
secret was undoubtedly safe with me. "You okay?" I asked Cory,
looking at the tiny penis now hanging limply between his legs.
He gave his brother a withering look. "Yeah, I'm okay, I guess."
He was rubbing his sunburned waist; apparently the quick descent of
his waistband had also scraped against his sensitive skin.
"Come here and I'll put some lotion on that," I suggested, eager
for a repeat performance. Smiling impishly, he promptly laid down on
his back across my legs, placing his hands behind his head as Chris
had done, but raising his knees slightly and spreading his legs wide,
giving me a heart-stopping view of his tender crotch. Obviously, he
was the less-inhibited of the two.
"Am I beautiful, too?" he demanded, as my eyes wandered over his
nude, slender frame. The question had no meaning, really.
Physically, what one was, so was the other, right down to their
sunburns. He just wanted the compliment.
I nodded my head shakily, not sure how much more of this I could
stand. My dick was aching for release. "Very beautiful," I told him,
as I repeated the creamy ministrations on his soft, young flesh. His
boy-part came back to life as I rubbed around it, standing up just as
Chris's had done, identical almost down to the tiny blood-vessels
faintly visible beneath the tight skin. Sensing that he wouldn't
mind, I placed my hand over it, covering it completely as my fingers
fondled his tiny balls, his dick pressing warm and snug against my
palm. I was rewarded with a soft, barely audible moan, as Cory
slightly raised his hips, increasing the pressure against my hand.
Chris crawled over and held out his hand for some lotion, so I
squeezed some out for him. I watched him massage the cream into his
brother's chest, seeming to pay close attention to Cory's nipples.
"He likes havin' his titties rubbed," he told me, as he fingered the
tiny tips, the stimulation causing them to poke out slightly from the
boy's chest. I felt Cory's body stiffen, his little erection pushing
insistently against my hand. I started stroking it, running my palm
over the tight, dry skin, feeling Cory press himself harder into my
hand. I could feel the small organ pulse each time I stroked down
it's short length, as Cory started rocking his hips slightly to
increase the sensation. He seemed quite familiar with the motions
required, I noticed.
Chris was still playing with his brother's tiny titties, and with
my free hand I began rubbing down into Cory's crack, squeezing his
soft, pliant butt muscles, my thumb gently rolling his balls around.
Cory moaned loudly, his breath increasing as he squirmed on my lap.
His eyes were closed tightly, his face slightly grimacing as his
erection strained against me, moving faster now as he quickly
approached a climax. Grunting with the effort, he pushed his penis up
hard into my stroking palm, and immediately he began emitting boyish
squeals of bliss, his little love-muscle throbbing beneath my fingers.
Watching and feeling the quivering, orgasmic little boy was too much
for me: I felt my sperm rise, spurting into my pants as I quietly
moaned in relief. Chris seemed to be trembling a little also, but I
couldn't be sure.
His orgasm quickly over, Cory's body sank limply back down, his
breath slowly returning to normal. I looked at my palm: completely
dry, as I'd suspected. That was the only difference between our
climaxes though. I continued stroking the little thing, and it
remained as stiff as ever, quite willing and able for another go.
Cory sighed happily, opening his eyes to look at me. "You came, too,
didn't you," he breathed softly. Both boys stared at the wet spot in
my crotch.
"Yes, I did," I confessed, smiling at them. Surprisingly, I
wasn't embarrassed to admit it. They seemed quite familiar with the
workings of male anatomy.
"Can we see it?" Chris asked shyly, his eyes curious. Cory rolled
off my lap, so I could show them. Put at ease by their calmness, I
stood up and lowered my sweat-pants, showing them my now limp penis
and the wet puddle in my shorts. Cory reached out a small hand, and
took a sample.
"I've never seen sperm, before," he said, thoughtfully rubbing it
between his fingers.
"Hey," Chris complained, "how come you didn't give ME an orgasm
when it was MY turn?" His sense of fairness had once again been
violated.
I shrugged, but Cory said, sounding superior, "It's 'cause I'm
OLDER, baby brother," as if this entitled him to special treatment.
He stuck his tongue out at his twin, and I had to laugh.
"Only five minutes," Chris reminded him, glaring. "And if you
call me 'baby brother' again I'll hafta' hurt you."
Naturally, Cory said it again. Chris jumped on him, and they
began wrestling on my living-room carpet. They were both giggling
between grunts, so I knew they weren't really serious about it. I
stepped over the two naked wrestlers and went into the kitchen to
clean myself off. When I returned, Cory had his brother's arms pinned
to the floor under his knees, his still-erect little penis poking in
Chris's face. "You know the rules," he grinned. "Kiss it!" If those
were the rules I would willingly lose every time.
Chris tried to look disgusted, but an almost eager grin broke out
as he raised his head, planting a kiss on his brother's boner. He
didn't seem to mind losing, either. Cory got off of him and they both
stood up, their faces flushed from their boyish exertions. Chris
looked at the clock on the wall and frowned, "Mom's movie's over. We
better get back home."
"Tom didn't put any lotion on my back yet," Cory protested. I sat
down and pulled the naked boy between my knees, holding him still with
a hand on his bare belly as I lovingly applied the cream to his
back-side. I pinched his little butt when I was finished, making him
yelp and thrust his hips forward.
"You didn't spank him," Chris said, disappointed. Cory quickly
jumped out of reach, afraid I might decide to make his brother happy.
"We'll get him next time," I promised Chris, winking at him.
Chris nodded eagerly, and Cory scowled at him for wanting to get even.
They gathered up their shorts, pulling them up their slender legs,
and I was relieved to see Cory's dick was once again limp. I didn't
think it wise to send him back to his mother with a hard-on poking up
beneath his shorts. "We didn't get to play the computer game," he
said, remembering why they had come over in the first place.
"It'll still be here tomorrow," I told him. Actually, I hoped
we'd be distracted again.
Chris came over and gave me hug, kissing my cheek again as I
hugged him back. His freely-given, boyish-affection filled me with
love. Not wanting to be one-upped, Cory did the same.
"Oh," said Cory, remembering something. "Mom said to tell you she
isn't going to work 'till later in the morning."
"Okay," I said, giving him one final squeeze before reluctantly
letting him go. "Just be sure and come over when she leaves so I'll
know it's my turn to watch you."
"Okay, Tom," he smiled as they headed for the door. "Good night!"
"Good night Tom," Chris echoed. "Oh, and thanks!" he added.
I said good night to my young friends, almost adding 'I love you'
on the end, but the door closed behind them before it came out. With
a contented sigh, I sat down by my computer again, wondering what
adventures tomorrow would bring.
CHAPTER 5
I managed to finally finish my book that night, staying up until
well after midnight. I spent the next morning proof-reading it,
changing a word here-and-there, waiting for the boys to come over and
announce their mother's departure. Around 10:30, I heard the front
door open and the sound of light steps coming up behind me. I was in
the middle of reading so I didn't turn around, and a small pair of
hands reached around to cover my eyes. "Guess who!" giggled a
high-pitched, cheery voice.
"Elementary, Watson," I chuckled. "It's Chris!"
"Awww, how could you tell?" he said, disappointed at being unable
to fool me. He came around the chair and leaned his hip against the
side. He was wearing cut-offs this morning, and a bright-white
t-shirt that showed off his tan nicely.
"I don't really know how I could tell," I told him honestly, not
having the faintest idea how I did it.
"Even our teachers can't tell us apart," he frowned, wondering
about it. I pointed out that his mother could, though. "Yeah, but
she's our mom," he explained.
"Yabbits have long ears," I told him with a straight face, trying
the old joke on him. It took him a moment to get it, and then he
groaned theatrically, punching my shoulder. I asked him if his mom
had gone off to work, and he nodded. "Where's your brother?" This was
the first time I'd only seen half the set.
"He's outside somewhere," Chris shrugged. "Did you finish your
book?" he asked, indicating the computer.
"Yep, all finished. Well, almost. I'm still putting some
finishing touches on it. As soon as I'm done we can all go swimming
if you want." Chris grinned in agreement and asked if he could stay
here and watch me work. I told him it wasn't very exciting to watch,
but he was more than welcome to stay if he wanted. He beamed a happy,
little-boy smile and promptly sat on my lap. I realized he just
wanted to be with me, and it didn't matter whether what I was doing
was interesting or not. While it made typing on the computer a bit
awkward, I felt quite happy myself. His clean, fresh-smelling,
sun-bleached hair just below my nose was a bit distracting though.
We both sat there quietly, my arms reaching around him to work the
key-board as I continued where I had left off. After a few minutes of
this, he craned his neck to smile contentedly at me, and impulsively I
kissed his smooth forehead. ("I wish you were my dad,") I heard a
small voice say. At first I smiled back at him, feeling quite pleased
by his fondness for me. Then I realized that he hadn't actually SAID
anything. His mouth was shut, and his lips hadn't moved a tiny
muscle. My expression changed to one of surprise, and Chris's to
disbelief. He quickly got out of my lap, saying in a shaky voice, his
face suddenly pale, "I'm g-gonna go find Cory." He started backing
towards the door, breathing fast like a frightened animal.
"Chris, wait a minute." I definitely wanted to find out what was
going on here. All of a sudden he bent sharply forward, his breath
whooshing out of him as if someone had punched him in the stomach. He
grimaced in pain. I jumped out of the chair and ran to him, kneeling
down and putting a hand on his shoulder. "What is it? What's the
matter?"
"It's Cory!" he cried, his face now filled with panic. "He fell
out of a tree!"
"How do you--"
"C'mon!" he said, bolting for the door as I ran along bewildered
behind him. Chris headed unerringly to the back of a building two
units over, where we found his brother laying on the ground beneath
the low branches of an apple tree, groaning. I quickly went to him,
expecting the worst and wondering what bones were broken.
"Don't move!" I ordered the boy as he tried to sit up. Chris
stood tensely to one side, watching with concern.
Being a typical young boy, Cory sat up anyway. "I'm okay," he
said, reaching beneath him to rub his butt. "Just got the wind
knocked out of me."
Almost laughing with relief, I tousled his hair. "Please, don't
do that anymore," I begged. "You scared the crap out of me."
"It's not like I did it on purpose," he frowned, looking pointedly
at his twin.
I turned to see Chris watching me, his face still quite pale with
worry. "Relax, Chris. He's okay." I looked back at Cory, whose
expression now mirrored his brother's, nervously biting his lip. I
realized that Chris wasn't worried about his brother, he was worried
about ME. Pieces of the puzzle started fitting together inside my
head as I looked at the two of them, and Chris now grew quite alarmed,
his lower lip trembling. I made a startling conclusion, and tested
it. ("You can read my mind, can't you?") I thought silently at him.
His reaction startled me even more. He started crying, hot tears
of shame running quickly down his tender cheeks. "I'm sorry!" he
wailed, his face flushed. "I can't help it!" Whimpering, he quickly
ran back the way we had come.
I turned --totally confused-- to Cory, who was glaring at me
angrily. "Damn you!" he swore at me, his face livid. "What did you
say to him?" His curse felt like a slap to the face and he flinched as
much as I did, getting to his feet as he started crying also. "You're
just like our father!" he yelled accusingly before running off after
his brother.
Stunned, I sank to the ground with my thoughts in a whirl, as I
tried to figure things out. Chris had obviously heard my unspoken
thought, and just as obviously Cory hadn't. Looking back, I realized
that it had been Chris who knew my name before I had told them, Chris
who seemed to answer questions before I asked them, yet Cory seemed to
know how I was feeling, if not what I was thinking. I couldn't
believe it had taken me this long to figure it out, but they were very
good at making up excuses for their abilities, and had clearly been
trying to hide them.
Telepathic twins? Incredible, but not unbelievable. I had heard
of twins who were able to communicate between themselves, but this was
a step further. More importantly, why were they so upset at my having
found out, and how was I like their father? Were they afraid I
wouldn't like them any more? They certainly already knew my biggest
secret -that I was a boy-lover-- and had probably known it from the
first time we met, and they still liked ME. I was more than a little
embarrassed to realize that Chris, at least, had heard my thoughts
about their sexy bodies. But instead of running away screaming they
had almost seemed to encourage me. I had nothing else to hide,
really. The fact that at least one of them was a mind-reader didn't
really bother me. Instead, I wanted to find out more about my
extraordinarily gifted young friends.
I got back up and headed to their house, hoping that was where
they had run off to. The door was unlocked so I let myself in, and I
could hear a muffled sobbing coming from the back rooms. The door to
their room was closed, but now I could hear the heart-breaking little
sobs much clearer as I stood outside, hoping I could get a clue as to
the cause of their distress.
"Don't cry, Chris," I heard Cory say. "He just wanted to have sex
with us anyways." Ouch. That hurt. Serves me right for
eavesdropping, I thought ruefully.
"That's not true and you know it!" Chris said hotly. Then,
softly, "He's outside the door."
"Go away!" Cory shouted. I wasn't going to be gotten rid of that
easily. I opened the door and saw them sitting on the bottom half of
a bunk-bed, Cory with his arm protectively, soothingly around a
sobbing Chris. It broke my heart to see his stricken little face all
flushed and wet with tears.
I sank to my knees in front of them. "Why are you so upset that I
found out about you?" I asked him gently.
"'Cause now you think we're freaks!" Cory said defiantly, hugging
his brother tighter.
"But that's not true," I said, defending myself. "I never once
thought that. Can't you read my mind too?"
Cory shook his head no, looking at me doubtfully. "I'm an
empath," he told me. "Chris is the telepathetic one."
"TelePATHic," Chris groaned.
"That's what I said."
"No, you said...Never mind." He frowned in consternation at his
twin, sniffing and wiping his face with the back of his hand.
I looked at Cory. "You're empathic? You mean you can tell how
other people are feeling, but you can't hear their thoughts?"
Cory nodded. "You know, like that lady on 'Star Trek: The Next
Generation'?"
"You mean 'Troi'?" I was a big trekkie fan.
"Yeah, that's the one." He grinned slightly, impressed by my
knowledge. "She's the counselor for the whole ship!"
"Well then, you should be able to tell if I'm lying or not,
right?"
"Yeah..." he said slowly.
Chris was also looking at me, his face filled with hope.
"You...You really don't hate us?"
"Hate you? Why would I hate you?"
They were both silent for a long time, looking at the floor.
Finally, Cory whispered softly, "Our daddy called us freaks."
"That's why he left," Chris added, another tear running down his
cheek.
Silently, my heart filled with compassion, I took a boy in each
arm and hugged them tightly. Both boys clutched me almost desperately
back, and I knew they could feel my love for them. How a man that had
helped create such beautiful, gifted young boys could call them
'freaks' was beyond me.
"You're angry," Cory said, pulling away and looking afraid, as if
I might be mad at them.
"He's mad at our dad, not at us," Chris explained, letting me go.
Then he bit his lip, realizing he was reading my thoughts again.
"It's okay, Chris," I said, reassuring him. "I really don't
mind."
"You don't?" he said doubtfully, finding it hard to believe.
"You can tell that I don't, can't you?" He nodded slowly. "Did
you really think I wouldn't like you anymore?"
They explained how most people were terrified of having their
thoughts read, of having their innermost secrets discovered. "You
already know my biggest secret, and you still like me," I pointed out.
Cory looked confused, and Chris explained, "He means that he likes
boys." Cory shrugged, nonplused, as if that weren't nearly as bad as
other peoples' secrets. I shuddered to think what these boys had been
exposed to, from an early age: all of the hate, lies, anger, lust; all
gleaned from the minds and emotions of others. No wonder they weren't
bothered by my attraction to them. It was a credit to their mother's
love that they were sane.
Chris was watching me. ("We're doin' ok,") he thought at me,
making me jump. "I'm sorry!" he said out loud. He looked like he was
going to cry again.
"It's ok, Chris," I told him again, wiping a tear from his cheek
with my thumb. "It's just going to take some getting used to. That's
all. Did you two really think you could keep this a secret from me?"
"We were gonna try," Cory admitted honestly, "but Chris kept
goofing up."
"You did too, once!" Chris retorted. He sensed I didn't remember
when this was. "In the pool, that first day," he explained. "Cory
said you were tired."
I thought of something else. "Now that I think of it, he always
seems to have an erection whenever I do, too. That's not a
coincidence, is it?" Cory looked bashfully at the floor, and I knew it
wasn't. "That could be embarrassing, when you get older."
"It only happens when I'm around someone I really like. I kinda
get 'connected.'" He smiled shyly at me, blushing.
"Do you really think I only want to have sex with you?" I asked
him, remembering what I had heard him say while I stood outside the
door.
He shook his head, ashamed that I had heard him. "I can tell you
really love us," he said softly. "I only said that to try and make
Chris feel better." He looked at me, his face apologetic. "I'm sorry
I swore at you before. I know I hurt your feelings."
I hugged him again by way of forgiveness, and everything was
alright once more. Now that the crisis was over, I asked them to
explain their abilities. Apparently they could communicate together
telepathically, but only Chris was capable of hearing others. Chris
was also able to make his mother hear him, if he projected a thought
at her, but no-one else. That was why he had been so surprised when I
heard him think, 'I wish you were my dad.'
"So THAT'S what you meant when you yelled 'He heard me!' at me,"
Cory exclaimed. It seems Chris had flung the thought at his twin,
catching Cory off guard.
"I'm sorry I made you fall out of the tree," Chris apologized, but
he was sucking in his lips, trying to hold back a grin. I chuckled as
Cory frowned at him; even I could tell the apology wasn't entirely
sincere.
"I think you're only sorry about the fact that you felt it when he
fell," I teased. Chris nodded, smiling openly now.
I wanted to test something. I told Chris to tell me what I was
thinking, closing my eyes and trying to feel him 'inside'. All the
science-fiction books I had ever read talked about things like
'probing tendrils of thought'. Chris laughed derisively, picking it
up. "It's not like THAT," he scorned. I hadn't felt a thing; it was
kind of disappointing. He went on to explain that it was something
like listening to different stations on a radio. Each person had a
different 'frequency', and all he had to do was tune in. Until I came
along, he had only been able to 'broadcast' to his mother's and
brother's stations. "Do you think that's why you can tell us apart so
easy?" he reasoned.
I had to admit it sounded plausible. Perhaps --somehow-- the
three of us were linked in some way. It might have had something to
do with my attraction to boys, I suppose. Being boys, the twins
decided they had had enough serious talk and said they wanted to go
swimming. "I have to finish my book, first," I told them regretfully,
trying my hardest to think only about my work. They begged and
pleaded, and my concentration slipped. Chris immediately realized I
was joking.
"Wow," he said, impressed. "You tricked me!"
"I'm smarter than you think," I grinned slyly, wrestling him down
on the bed and tickling him until he begged for mercy, his tears
forgotten. It was comforting to know that he could still be fooled; I
would have missed the pleasure of teasing him, otherwise.
I sat on the bed and watched as they stood up, stripping off their
shirts. I quickly reached out and poked a finger into each little
navel while their heads were covered, making them both suck in their
bellies. "How come you like tickling us so much?" asked Cory,
exasperated by my constant kitchie-cooing.
"Because I like hearing you laugh," I answered simply, "and it's
easier than telling you jokes." He smiled indulgently, shaking his
head, graciously willing to put up with my eccentricities. They took
off their shorts and underpants, standing back up unashamedly while I
openly admired the now-naked twins, all of us glad that we no longer
had any secrets between us. I noticed their sunburns seemed to be
healing well, already turning to a light colored tan. I could feel my
penis starting to swell as I looked at them, and Cory's little one
twitched in empathy.
"You're a dirty old man," he teased, snickering as he fondled
himself suggestively.
("Spank him!") I heard Chris suggest to me silently, a giggling
echo trailing the thought.
Not needing any further encouragement, I snatched Cory off the
floor and bent him over my lap on the bed, catching him completely off
guard. It seemed that Chris was able to selectively 'broadcast', and
his twin hadn't heard it as he yelled in surprise. "Dirty old man,
huh?" I said in mock anger as I gave his twitching little butt a
playful slap. Chris laughed in delight as his twin cried out in alarm
at having been deceived. I gave him a few more little slaps to make
his brother happy (and me too, I must admit), and I noticed Chris rub
his own butt as if he were feeling it also.
Cory shouted his apologies, and I rolled him over. His little
pecker was now as stiff as mine, poking up in the air from his smooth
groin. I held his thin wrists in one hand over his head and looked at
Chris. "I don't think he's really sorry, do you?" I asked him with a
grin. "Maybe we should tickle him to make sure." Chris nodded his
eager agreement, and before his brother could protest we started
poking and prodding him everywhere on his body, leaving nothing
untouched. Chris would tickle his armpits while I squeezed a knee, I
would poke his belly and ribs while Chris playfully squeezed his
hard-on or pinched his butt until Cory was screaming and squirming,
hiccuping with laughter.
"Enough?" I asked the panting boy, who was so out of breath he
could only nod his head as I released him, his chest rising and
falling in relief as I stroked his soft tummy.
"I think I'd rather you told me jokes," he said wryly, once he
recuperated. I gave his ribs one final poke and he giggled again in
spite of himself. Then he accused us of ganging up on him. Chris
artfully reminded him that he had done the same thing last night, more
or less, and Cory let it drop, figuring they were even and wanting to
go swimming instead of arguing about it.
They scampered into the bathroom and Chris stood on the edge of
the tub, pulling their swim-suits and towels off the curtain rod where
they had been hung to dry. They quickly pulled on the little bikinis,
reaching a hand inside to straighten out their small boy-parts. My
erection had gone down somewhat, as had Cory's, but his was still a
bit longer and more full than usual, clearly outlined beneath the
nylon brief. We went to my house and the boys curiously followed me
into my bathroom to watch me change. I guess it was only fair; I had
watched THEM change. Their eyes widened in appreciation as I stood
there naked before pulling on my trunks, my penis semi-erect. I was
only average in size, but big compared to their little ones. I
grabbed a bottle of sun-tan lotion and quickly put some on their
fading sunburns, not wanting them to burn again.
We spent the rest of the afternoon swimming and frolicking in the
water, until starvation forced us to seek supper. Susan wouldn't be
back until later in the evening, so it fell upon me to feed the hungry
nine-year-olds. I suggested an expedition to McDonalds, for
convenience's sake, and they readily agreed.
"Why don't we clean up first?" I asked, feeling the need for a
shower. "You guys go home and take a quick bath and I'll come get you
in about a half-hour, okay?" They were old enough to be left alone for
a short while, and I was right next door if they needed me. They ran
off without any argument, since they were hungry and wanted to eat as
soon as possible. I went home and quickly showered, putting on clean
shorts and a shirt, arriving at their place about 25 minutes later. I
knocked and opened the door, only to find the boys still wearing their
swim-suits, sitting on the living-room floor.
"What's the matter?" I asked, wondering why they weren't ready.
"I thought you guys were going to take a bath?"
Both boys were silent, looking at me rather nervously. Chris
elbowed his brother in the ribs, prompting him. "We want you to give
us our baths," he said hesitantly, sounding like a much younger boy.
"I thought you were hungry," I said, wondering what was going on.
Not that I didn't want to bathe them, but I was hungry too.
"Please?" said Chris, his eyes almost pleading. I don't know why,
but for some reason it seemed very important to them. I shrugged and
nodded, giving in, and they quickly ran into the bathroom, leaving me
to follow behind. They both stood next to the tub, waiting anxiously
and looking almost helpless; they hadn't even turned the water on. I
started filling the tub, making sure the water was comfortably hot and
closing the drain. Noticing a box of 'Mr. Bubble' on the side, I
dumped in a generous amount of bubble-bath, watching as the tub slowly
filled with water and bubbles. Cory and Chris just stood there
waiting, apparently wanting me to undress them, also. They were
acting almost like toddlers, and it was very unlike them to want to be
babied like this. I didn't mind doing it, of course, if it was what
they wanted. As I mentioned before, I had always dreamed of the
things I would do if I were a father, and this was certainly one of
them.
I sat on the edge of the tub and pulled Cory to me, and he
balanced himself with a hand on my shoulder as I pulled down his
swim-suit, his little penis bouncing merrily as he stepped out of it.
He smiled thankfully at me and climbed into the tub, splashing a
little to make more bubbles as I stripped off Chris's speedo. The boy
hugged me before joining his twin, and I was filled once again with
love for them.
I pulled off my shirt, expecting a bit of splashing from the two
imps, and grabbed a bar of soap in one hand and a wash-cloth in the
other. I started with Cory, having him stand up to make it easier as
I washed his face and neck, then down his back, using both the cloth
and my hand as I soaped his young body. My hands followed the gentle
curves down to his delightful butt, and I slid my soapy fingers into
the narrow crevice, making him jerk when I goosed his tiny, puckered
hole. I rinsed him down and turned the water off, and began washing
his front. Lovingly, I lathered his chest and tickled his small
nipples with my fingertips. I loved how they felt: the tiny,
sensitive tips poking out as my hand slid across his soapy skin. He
had an erection now, as did I, and his small organ was pointing up at
my face.
I glanced at Chris and saw him playing with himself beneath the
frothy layer of bubbles, watching us intently. I felt Cory tremble
slightly as if he were cold, but there was sweat beading on his
forehead. "Are you okay?" I asked. Neither one had said a word this
whole time, and it seemed as if they were worried and very tense.
Cory nodded, but he was still shaking. "Your's is hard too," he
whispered in an almost babyish voice, the 'r's softly lisped. His
eyes were closed, so he must have been sensing my body's reaction to
washing him.
"You want to touch his pee-pee," said Chris in a flat, emotionless
voice. I didn't know why they were acting so strangely, and it was
making me nervous, unsure of what to do. I felt as if I were acting
in a play, but no-one had told me what my lines were.
("Go ahead,") Chris thought at me. ("He needs you to touch him.")
Still confused, I soaked the wash-cloth and held it to Cory's
chest, rinsing him off a little as the water ran down his front. His
eyes were achingly filled with longing as I rubbed the bar of soap
over his belly, raising a lather of suds. Placing one hand on his
back to hold him steady, I ran the other in circles over his stomach,
getting it nice and slick. Gently, I ran my soapy hand over his
genitals, sliding my fingers over his stiff little prick and softly
fondling his balls. He whimpered once, a barely audible whine, and I
quickly removed my hand, looking at him worrisomely.
("Don't stop!") Chris thought sharply at me, once again projecting
his mind.
Still unsure of what was happening, I continued soaping the young
boy's groin, lovingly caressing him with my fingers as Cory nudged his
hips forward, pushing himself against my hand. Sensing his need, I
took his firm little penis between my thumb and two fingers, gently
squeezing to increase the friction against the slippery suds as I
slowly rubbed it's tiny length. I could feel it throb as I stroked
it, and Cory began thrusting his hips back and forth, grunting with an
almost desperate desire, his hands clenched at his sides. He cried
out "Daddy!" when he climaxed, but I knew he wasn't referring to me.
I felt Cory's entire body shudder as the orgasm went through him, his
moans of ecstasy seemingly mingled with cries of deep suffering that
had waited long for release. He was actually sobbing when it was
over, tears streaming down his cheeks as he threw his arms around my
neck in grief, crying on my shoulder.
Wondering what I had done to cause all this I looked a question at
Chris, as I held his trembling, soaking-wet brother against me.
("He's okay now,") I heard him say silently, a solemn tear of sympathy
running down his own cheek. ("Just love him.")
I did my best to comfort the crying boy, holding him in my arms as
I softly stroked his wet skin and said helpless, meaningless words
like "Shhh" and "It's okay." I didn't know if it was okay or not, but
it seemed to soothe him as he cried himself out, his heaving sobs
becoming little whimpers until his tears finally tapered off to
sniffles. Still he clung to me, and I gave him a tight hug before
gently pushing him off of my shoulder, holding him at arm's length.
"Are you alright now?" I asked him, my voice filled with concern.
He wouldn't look at me, and I could tell he was embarrassed by his
outburst. "It's okay to cry," I told him. "The boys in my books cry
sometimes, too." He nodded, and I knew that made him feel a little
better. I wanted to ask him what all this had been about, but I
didn't think he'd want to talk about it. If he wanted me to know he
could tell me when he was ready. Instead, I pulled him back in my
arms and said, simply, "I love you, Cory."
"I love you too," he said in his soft voice, hugging me back.
Quietly, he sank down in the water and rinsed himself off.
"Now wash ME!" Chris demanded in a cheery voice, breaking the
somber mood that was hanging over us. Smiling gratefully at him, I
gestured for him to stand up and took soap and wash-cloth in hand once
again. I could tell he wasn't going to repeat his brother's
performance as he giggled and wiggled beneath my soapy, tickling
hands. He said to hurry because he was hungry, and I was leery about
masturbating him anyway after seeing how his brother had reacted, so I
quickly soaped his penis and tiny balls and told him to rinse off,
leaving it at that.
They climbed out of the tub and quickly dried themselves off, no
longer feeling the need for me to baby them and acting like nothing
unusual had happened. They ran to their bedroom and pulled on clean
underpants, shorts, t-shirts and sneakers, then ran back to the
bathroom, combed their hair and yelled, "Let's go!"
I dried off my chest where Cory had gotten me wet and put my shirt
back on. Cory pointed out apologetically that my shorts were all wet
too, so we all headed to my place so I could change before going out
to eat.
At McDonalds they wanted 'Happy-meals', which I gladly bought for
them. Cory and Chris were always polite, saying please and thank-you
quite sincerely, but I think they knew they could have had their way
with me even if they were discourteous. It was nicer to spoil boys
that had manners, though.
It was almost dark when we got back home and their mother hadn't
returned from work yet, so we settled down on their couch and watched
old reruns on 'Nickelodeon', the cable TV channel. They enjoyed the
old shows as much as I did, laughing as we watched 'Get Smart',
'Mister Ed', 'The Dick Van Dyke Show'; all the old programs from my
own youth.
By the time Susan came home the three of us had fallen asleep on
the couch. Chris was sprawled on his stomach on top of me, Cory
snuggled against my side, my arms around both of them. She gently
shook me awake and said, "You guys look pretty comfortable." My hands
were still beneath the young boys' shirts and I quickly removed them.
I had drifted off into a blissful doze while stroking Chris's back and
Cory's side, but I wasn't sure what their mother would think of my
intimacy.
The twins came groggily awake when they heard their mother's
voice, and we disentangled ourselves. "Sorry I had to work so late,
Tom," said Susan, as Cory and Chris hugged her hello with sleepy
yawns. I waved off her apology, letting her know I didn't mind. "The
boys give you any trouble?" she asked. The boys in question looked at
me expectantly, remembering all that had happened today and wondering
what I would say. I was wondering, myself.
"Well, Cory fell out of tree," I told her, and when her eyes
widened in concern I quickly added, "but he didn't get hurt any." Cory
looked guiltily at his mother, wondering if he'd get reprimanded. "I
should have been watching him closer," I went on, apologizing for my
lax attention to her sons.
She sighed ruefully with a small laugh. "They're BOYS, Tom. You
can't possibly watch them every second, and I honestly wouldn't want
you to anyway." She lovingly ruffled the boys' hair, and they smiled
up at her. "They're going to get scrapes and cuts once in a while,
and nothing you or I can do will prevent it. We can WORRY about it,
though," she added with an exasperated smile.
I laughed, filled with admiration for this single-mother as she
ordered the twins to bed. Cory and Chris hugged me and kissed me
good-night, and her eyebrows raised slightly as she watched them. She
didn't seem to disapprove though. Before I left I invited her over
for some coffee after she put the boys to bed, and she accepted. I
wanted to tell her that I had found out about her sons' abilities, and
to find out more about them.
She knocked on my door about a half-hour later, and her expression
seemed relieved as we sat down at the kitchen table. "Chris and Cory
told me what happened today," she began, taking a sip of coffee. "I
appreciate how well you handled everything. I don't think either one
of them could have coped with another rejection, especially from you."
I hoped she didn't know everything that I had 'handled' today. I
didn't know if the boys had told of the bath-time incident or not. "I
was bound to find out about them eventually," I told her. "I'm an
expert on boys, remember? You said so yourself."
Susan didn't laugh at my small joke. I could see she was
hesitating, thinking about what she wanted to say. "I think you're
more than an 'expert', Tom," she said carefully, watching my reaction.
"Would you care to tell me about it?"
Oh Jesus, I thought to myself, feeling my face go pale in panic.
The mother of two nine-year-old boys knows what I am. Should I deny
it? Self-preservation was my first instinct. I could see the
headline: 'Popular children's author denounced as a PEDOPHILE!' She
was watching me intently as my thoughts churned. She obviously
already had her suspicions; anything less than the truth would be
disbelieved. I swallowed hard and took a deep breath, preparing --for
the first time in my life-- to admit to another adult my deepest
secret.
"I'm a boy-lover," I said. Looking her in the eye as I said it
was the hardest thing I've ever done. I cocked an ear, listening for
sirens to announce my arrest.
She nodded, once. No accusations, no hysteria, no cries of
'pervert'. Just a nod. "I know that was hard for you, Tom. But I
want you to know that I appreciate your honesty. If you had lied I
would have thought less of you. And no," she added, "I'm not going to
call the police or tell anyone else."
I breathed a sigh of relief when she said this. "I suppose you'll
be looking for another baby-sitter now," I said regretfully, figuring
my relationship with Cory and Chris was over. "I'll stay away from
them, if you say so."
"No, no Tom, you're misunderstanding," she said earnestly. "I'm
trying to tell you that it's okay. I know you love them both, and
they love you too." I was looking at her with amazement, convinced I
must have been dreaming. "You gave them a BATH, Tom," she went on.
"That's something they haven't let anyone do since they were 4 years
old. Not even me!"
I got some more coffee as Susan began filling me in on their past.
She explained how her and her husband had known the boys were
'different' since infancy. Cory would be very sensitive to their
moods, while Chris could always make his mother understand what he
needed, even before he could talk. When the twins did learn to speak
their talents became even more apparent. Susan's husband loved their
special boys as much as she did. But one time, when Susan had to work
late, he was giving the little boys a bath and his love crossed into
taboo territory (to his thinking):
He had been washing 4-year-old Cory when the little boy popped a
boner. Nothing unusual about that. The problem began when he felt
his own penis harden, as he looked at his young son's proud little
erection. Cory could sense this, and told him so. I immediately
realized the whole bath scene this afternoon had been a re-enactment
of this. Chris picked up his father's desire to touch the little
pecker, and also told him. Instead of caressing it for a moment, as
Cory wanted him to do (because he loved his daddy and he could feel
that even his daddy's body loved him back), the man was filled with
self-loathing and guilt at his sexual reaction to the little boy, made
all the worse because the boys knew about it. He slapped the
four-year-old, the first time he had ever struck one of his sons, and
called them both freaks, when it was he himself who thought he was
perverted. When Susan came home and the distraught twins told her
what had happened, she tried explaining to the man that any good
psychologist could tell him that his erection had been completely
normal. The damage had been done, though. Every time he looked at
the boys he knew they were aware that he had been sexually attracted
to them, and --his 'masculinity' in doubt-- he couldn't live with it.
A few days later he simply left, telling Susan to file for a divorce
and that she could have whatever she wanted. He still provided
child-support, but that was little comfort to fatherless, hurt young
boys. From then on, Cory and Chris insisted on bathing themselves,
fearing their mother might leave also.
Susan finished the story by saying that Cory had taken on the role
of protective older-brother, hating his father but never mourning him,
until today. "You showed him that what his father felt wasn't bad,
that it wasn't his fault, that you love him for what he is and don't
feel guilty or self-conscious about it. They both desperately needed
to know that someone besides myself could love them, someone who knew
they were telepathic and wasn't afraid of them. I think only a man
like you could have done it."
Susan went on to tell me more: How the boys had been aware of
other people's sexual feelings since they were out of diapers,
sleeping together and experimenting with their own bodies. She said
(and I blushed) that if they were going to fool around with someone
else she would rather it be with someone she knew, and who loved them
both, than with a stranger off the street. She even said she was a
bit jealous of them!
We talked past midnight until both of us were yawning, and finally
said our good-nights. We hugged, chastely, like brother and sister,
drawn together by our mutual love for her sons. My love also had a
sexual element to it though. It was good not to have any secrets, I
thought, as I drifted off to sleep a little later, visions of two
identical boys dancing naked through my head.
CHAPTER 6
I finally (finally!) finished my book the next morning, before
Cory and Chris came over. I saved it on a floppy disk and sent it off
to my publisher in New York, knowing she would be pleased. My books
had developed quite a following among boys and girls alike, and
sometimes my publisher paid for me to go on book-signing tours around
the country. I always enjoyed these trips, freely signing books for
all my young admirers, who would ask what my next one was about or
tell me some little story about themselves. I didn't think I'd go on
a tour for this one, though. I had a much better reason to stay home.
Two of them, in fact.
I still found it hard to believe that I had their mother's
blessing on our relationship. Not many mothers would allow their sons
to hang around with a confessed boy-lover, but that was exactly what
she had done. I felt I owed her something for being so understanding,
so I tried to think of something that would help her with raising two
young boys.
Cory and Chris would be starting school in a couple of weeks, the
end of their ninth summer sadly coming to an end. When they came over
I asked if their mother had bought them new school clothes yet, and
both boys frowned disgustedly at me for reminding them of the dreaded
end of their freedom before saying no. When I suggested a shopping
trip into Chicago however, they both perked up, excited about a trip
into the city even if it was for school clothes.
I decided to take them to the State Street Mall, a huge building
that took up almost an entire city block, soaring many floors into the
air. We parked in a parking garage across the street, and even though
the twins had lived on the north-side they gawked at the skyscraping
buildings, craning their thin necks all the way back as they tried to
see the tops. They had never been here before, since it was too
expensive a place for their mother to shop. It was my first time here
also. I had never had a reason to visit before.
They both held my hands as we wormed our way through the bustling
crowds, and occasionally a passer-by would smile at the two adorable
boys and then at me, obviously thinking I was the twins' father. Once
inside the mall we found a directory, and the boys gaped at the huge
selection of stores. I felt rather intimidated myself.
I found the name of a rather upscale department store on the 7th
floor, and we took an elevator up. Their eyes bugged out (and mine
too) when they saw the size of the boys' department. We wandered
about rather aimlessly until a saleswoman caught sight of the twins,
obviously also seeing double sales. She was a college-age girl (whose
name-tag said Dawn), and Cory and Chris were put at ease by her
friendly manner as she judged their size with an expert eye and
started displaying assorted clothes for their approval. The boys took
up residence in the dressing room as the girl almost frantically
brought item after item to them, taking some back when they made a
sour face, setting some on a growing pile of keepers when they
shrugged their consent. Cory seemed to favor Levi's blue-jeans, while
Chris preferred Bugle Boy. I couldn't decide which I liked better as
they modeled for me; both types showed off their backsides quite
nicely. Neither boy was too particular about shirts, choosing
multi-colored pullovers of several varieties. Everything looked good
on them, but I liked them even better in just their white
jockey-shorts as they dressed and undressed repeatedly. I recognized
some of the designer-names from the Sunday papers. I always looked
through the color pull-outs hoping to see a cute boy modeling swimwear
or (rarely) underwear. Girls, however, seemed to far outnumber boys
in that department, I lamented.
Once we had quite a sizable collection, I told Dawn that that
would be enough. She let out a breath of air, seeming regretful and
relieved at the same time. The boys had given her a good workout. I
watched as Chris and Cory pulled their own shorts and t-shirts back
on, and as they were tying their shoes I asked them if they needed new
underwear. Cory looked around to make sure the girl was busy before
nodding yes. Underwear wasn't something they needed a girl's help
with, evidently.
I asked Dawn where the underwear section was and she pointed in
it's general direction. She almost asked if we needed any help but
Chris gave her a look that quite clearly meant they were capable of
doing it themselves. She didn't mind, contenting herself with adding
up the numerous price-tags as we wandered off.
"She thinks you're our dad," Chris informed me, apparently having
heard her thoughts.
"I suppose we could pretend," I smiled at him, putting an arm
around each of my identical friends.
The boy hesitated a moment before asking, "Why don't you marry our
mom? Then you could REALLY be our dad."
His hopeful sincerity warmed my heart, and I hated to disappoint
him. "It wouldn't be fair to your mom," I told him.
He looked up at me and I could see he didn't understand.
Surprisingly, Cory explained. "He means he likes us better than he
likes our mom."
I could see that Chris still didn't get it. "Your mother needs a
man who would love her the same way that I love both of you," I
elaborated. Chris frowned as he considered this, and finally realized
I was talking about the sexual aspect of our relationship. He sighed,
and I was as regretful as he was.
We found the long aisle that displayed Jockey, Fruit-of-the-Loom,
Fun-Pals and several other brands. While Cory and Chris browsed
through them my mind imagined all the different sizes of boys that
would fill the diminutive briefs, which came in assorted colors, no
less. Chris smiled at me knowingly, picking up my erotic thoughts,
and I shrugged helplessly back. I saw a small section displaying a
brand called Le' Tigre, and my heartbeat speeded up a bit as I
realized they were bikini-briefs, the same as a man would wear only in
boys' sizes. They didn't even have fly-fronts, since it was easier to
just pull them down and piss.
Cory sensed my excitement and came over to see what had my blood
pounding. He snickered when he saw what I was looking at. "I don't
have to be a mind-reader to know what YOU'RE thinking," he smirked, as
Chris walked over to see what all the fuss was about. The thought of
my sexy young friends wearing sexy little briefs beneath their new
clothes made my dick swell with an erection, and Cory had to adjust
his own little pecker, empathetically connected to my own. "Behave
yourself," he admonished me, wagging his finger as I smiled guiltily.
"Don't tease him, Cory," said his brother, defending my lustful
desires. "He can't help it." Chris picked up a package and studied
the designs on the small bikini-underpants. I saw one that came in a
spotted leopard-skin print, and I immediately thought of Johnny
Sheffield: 'Boy' in the old Tarzan movies. Chris chuckled and pounded
his chest. "You Tarzan! Me Boy!" he said, comically trying to deepen
his treble voice. He looked at Cory and pointed. "Him Jane!" Cory
rolled his eyes at me. My telepathic friend was making me even more
embarrassed. "I'm sorry Tom," said Chris, smiling in spite of his
apology as he realized he was doing what he had just told his brother
not to do. "We'll wear 'em, if you really want us to. Won't we Cor?"
Cory looked through the assortment and found some that were
printed in army camouflage. "Sure," he chirped. "These are cool! I
can be Rambo!" He flexed his arm and displayed his wiry biceps.
I watched as they picked out their choices, but now I started to
wonder what their mother would think. I went over to the Jockey rack
and took a couple packages of regular, colored underpants. When the
twins looked at me curiously I ostensibly said, "We don't want your
mom to think I'm turning you two into male-strippers or something."
They laughed their high-pitched giggles and I joined in as we carried
our plunder back to Dawn. The thought of them doing a strip-tease was
an intriguing one, though.
The boys watched in awe as the cash-register kept going and going
and going...finally coming to a stop at well over five-hundred
dollars. Their mouths dropped in shock as they watched me calmly hand
over my gold-card, their eyes darting back in disbelief to the total
on the machine. The girl read my name on the card and I saw her brow
furrow in concentration. "Are you the children's author?" she asked
finally.
"Yes, I am." Already surprised by the amount of money I was
spending on them, Cory and Chris were further impressed at my being
recognized by a total stranger. I grinned to myself as I saw them
speechless for the first time since I had known them. Dawn proceeded
to tell us how her little brother had all of my books, and asked me to
give my autograph for him. She gave me a blank piece of paper and
told me to make it out to 'Tony', which I did. Then she had me
autograph the credit-slip as well, prudently tearing up the carbons.
Cory finally found his voice and eagerly informed her that I had just
finished another book, and I thought I detected a note of pride in his
voice as he told Dawn to be sure and tell her brother about it.
Dawn handed each of us a large shopping bag filled with our booty
and gave us a very sincere thank-you as we walked off. The boys were
having a hard time carrying the heavy bags, barely able to keep them
off the floor. I considered offering to help but both of them shot me
determined looks, Cory sensing my concern and Chris hearing it. They
had to switch arms several times before we made it back to the car,
where we put everything in the trunk. We walked down to the corner
and had lunch at McDonald's, and I asked them what they wanted to do
next.
"Could we go to the top of the Sear's tower?" asked Cory, after a
moments consideration. Chris nodded his eager approval of the idea.
"Sure," I said. "I haven't been there for a while."
We decided to walk the few blocks, since it was a nice day and it
was easier than fighting traffic and finding another parking place.
We were only half-way there, threading our way through the lunch-time
crowds, when Chris started rubbing his temples as if he had a bad
headache. "You okay?" I asked him, as we waited for a light to change
so we could cross the street.
"Yeah," he said, but his expression was rather pained. "It's all
these people. They make a lot of noise up here." He pointed at his
head. "Sometimes it's hard to block it out."
I hadn't realized that his 'receiver' might get scrambled from
being in a crowd, with so many people's thoughts intent on hurrying or
business. "Will you be all right?" He nodded grimly, and I could tell
it was hard for him. "How about you?" I asked Cory.
"I'm okay," he shrugged. "I can feel everyone's in a hurry, but
it doesn't really bother me. I can block it better than Chris can, I
guess, 'cause I don't have to listen to them. He's the telepathetic
one," he added, mispronouncing it once again, apparently on purpose.
"TelePATHic!" Chris exclaimed, exasperated by his brother's
attempt at humor.
"That's what I said," Cory responded mildly, giving me an innocent
look. His eyes were smiling, however.
"Can't you feel his headache though?" I asked, remembering how
Cory seemed to be 'connected' to those he cared about, especially his
twin.
"I can tell his head hurts," he said, looking at his brother with
some concern, "but I can kinda block it out, when I have to."
"How come you don't 'block it out' when I get a you-know-what?" I
asked, as we crossed the street with the flow of people.
Understanding that I meant how he always got a hard-on when I did,
he said seriously, "That's different. That feels GOOD!"
I couldn't think of any way to help his brother, so we continued
on. We finally reached the world's tallest building and took what
must have been the world's fastest elevator up to the observation
deck. Our ears popped when we got there. Chris seemed more at ease
now that we weren't in the middle of a crowd, and I gave both boys
some change for the telescopes that were placed all along the windows.
I pointed out some planes circling around O'Hare airport, seeming to
be at the same altitude as we were. It was a beautiful view, and the
boys ran around eagerly pointing out all the landmarks. Cory placed
his forehead against the window, staring wide-eyed at the ground far
below, and I felt a stab of apprehension seeing him separated from the
thin air outside by only a few inches of glass. Feeling my
nervousness, the boy grinned at me devilishly and held his arms out,
continuing to lean his head against the window and saying, "I'm
flying!" He was a typical boy, in spite of his psychic abilities.
When we had seen all there was to see I suggested, jokingly, that
we walk down instead of taking the elevator. Both boys looked at me
as if I had lost my mind, and I had to laugh. We plummeted down in
the elevator and made faces trying to get our ears popped again.
There were a few stores on the ground-level, and I saw something that
gave me an idea. "If you listened to something on that," I said to
Chris, pointing to a Walkman with headphones, "would that help you
block out the crowds?"
Chris considered this, and decided it might work. We went into
the store and I asked Cory if he wanted one too, since I wanted to be
fair about it, but surprisingly he said no. They weren't like other
brothers, who felt a constant need to compete or have the same things
that the other one had. So, with Chris wearing the headphones and
listening to a radio station, we headed back out to the busy street.
After a half-block, while Chris was singing along to some song that we
couldn't hear, I poked him on the shoulder and he looked up at me,
beaming his sunny smile. Evidently my idea had worked; the music gave
him something else to listen to.
When we got back to the car Chris slid next me, while Cory took
the passenger seat. Chris took off the Walkman and wrapped his soft
arms around my neck, planting a quick, moist kiss on my lips. "Thanks
Tom," he said, smiling.
"Yeah," echoed his brother. "Thanks for all the cool clothes and
stuff." I smiled at both of them, letting them know I appreciated
their thanks. I suppose some people might accuse me of trying to buy
their affection with gifts, in the hopes of receiving sexual favors
from them. The twins already liked me, however, and were quite aware
that I was sexually attracted to them. My motives weren't nearly so
devious. I simply wanted to buy them things to make them happy, to
show that I loved them. In this regard, I'm no different than a man
buying something for his wife or girlfriend (or boyfriend, for that
matter).
Back at home we dumped all the new clothes at their house, and
returned to my place to play the computer game. It was late in the
afternoon, Susan would be home shortly, and we were all too tired to
go swimming. I booted the computer and resumed the game where we had
left off a few days ago, and Chris took up station at the keyboard
while Cory went to the kitchen and came back with Cokes for them and a
beer for me. He handed me the beer and sat on my lap, leaning back
against me and eying my can hopefully, so I gave him a swallow and
listened to the obligatory belch. He snuggled his small, warm body
against me as we watched Chris play the game, giving occasional
suggestions which Chris would then carry out.
I wrapped my arms around the young boy in my lap, and he put his
left arm fondly around my neck, filling my nostrils with the sweet
aroma of nine-year-old boyhood as he relaxed against me. I stroked
his bare leg and he kicked off his sneakers, revealing his small,
dainty feet and placing them up on the chair, exposing his tender
thighs to my caresses. Running my hand over Cory's slender leg gave
me an erection, naturally, and soon the boy had to tweak his own
growing penis through his shorts, as he responded to my desire. I
looked at his beautiful face, and his trusting smile seemed to draw my
lips to his. I kissed him softly, lovingly, feeling his moist lips
press against my own, filling me with a passion that seemed to be
returned as I heard him moan slightly, his lips vibrating with the
sound. I felt his mouth open, granting me access to the warm wetness
within as I continued stroking his leg, my finger teasing against the
small bulge of his scrotum hidden beneath his underpants. Cory seemed
to be echoing my own need, wrapping both arms around me as we kissed
deeply, slowly, our tongues dancing together as my other hand found
it's way beneath his shirt. I had never kissed a boy this way before,
and was surprised at how passionately he returned my oral caress. I
realized he was empathetically feeling my lustful love, and was
reflecting it back at me mixed with his own desire. The result was a
young boy of nine acting like a female in heat, his breath coming
faster through his nostrils as my own increased as well. Pushing my
fingers under his shorts, I squeezed the small hardness within and was
rewarded with a sensual groan from the boy's mouth, fastened to my
own. Then I heard a slight cough on my left, and remembered Chris. I
pulled away from Cory, and both of us were panting, grinning with
surprise at each other. Chris seemed to be pouting slightly, watching
us morosely.
"What about me?" he said, sounding a little envious at all the
attention his brother was receiving. I seemed to have an enviable
dilemma of trying to figure out how to kiss a set of twins with only
one mouth.
"He's jealous," said Cory, appraising his brother. He didn't say
it mockingly, though.
"Am not!" Chris lied. If anyone could tell how he felt, Cory
could. Chris realized he was wasting his time trying to fool us and
shrugged, looking at the floor. It was flattering to realize that
these non-competitive brothers could be possessive over my affections.
"I don't think all three of us could fit in this chair without
falling over," I told them, making Chris grin a little at the thought.
"We could go to your bedroom," Cory suggested not-so-innocently.
Chris nodded his agreement, looking eager.
I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant but knowing that they were
aware that I was as eager as they. I stood up with Cory in my arms
and he wrapped himself around me as Chris followed us into the
bedroom. I threw Cory on the bed and started tickling him, then I
grabbed his brother and did the same. I wanted to keep things fun,
yet also erotic. Lying alongside of Chris, I grabbed his thin wrists
and pinned his arms over his head, tickling his belly and armpits.
While Chris wiggled in glee, Cory --ever the mischievous one-- grabbed
hold of his brother's shorts and underpants and quickly pulled them
off, leaving Chris naked from the waist down. I glanced at the stiff
little boy-tool poking up from his pale groin and gave it a playful
squeeze, making the boy giggle again. I started softly rubbing over
his belly, then underneath his shirt, stroking over his stretched-out
rib-cage and little nipples. When I released his arms he kept them
over his head, enjoying the sensation of my stroking hand, a contented
smile on his face.
"Take off his shirt," Cory prompted, willing to expose his brother
for everyone's enjoyment. Since Chris hadn't protested, I bundled his
shirt up to his armpits and pulled it off over his head and arms.
Chris remained lying there sedately, stretched out with one leg
slightly bent outward, no longer ashamed or embarrassed at being naked
in front of me. I had seen both of them nude several times now, after
all. In fact, I think they were both quite pleased with the effect
their smooth young bodies had on me, and the unique personalities
contained within them made them even more special.
("Kiss me like you did Cory,") I heard inside my head, as his
brother laid down on the other side next to him. I pushed my right
arm beneath Chris's shoulders and neck, lifting his head slightly as I
lowered my own, watching his eyes close in anticipation. I brushed my
lips softly against his own, and he giggled a little in response. His
reaction would be different than Cory's, I could tell, since he lacked
his brother's empathic ability to feel my passion and return it. He
was a playful kitten, while Cory was the aggressive tiger. It
required a mental adjustment to my love-making, so I playfully pecked
at his lips while my left hand roamed over the boy's bare front,
occasionally going low enough to stroke over his little hard-on and
balls. Sticking my tongue out I licked across his lips, and his own
tongue came out to say hello. As I explored inside his mouth,
breathing in his sweet boy-breath, I could tell he was getting into it
now. No longer giggling, he was making little grunts of pleasure as I
continued petting his smooth skin, feeling his body squirm in
pleasure. My hand unexpectedly met another one on Chris's chest, as
Cory started massaging the nude boy between us.
Breaking off our kiss, I moved down to his chest and flicked my
tongue across his left nipple before closing my lips on the erect
little flesh-bud and sucking on it. I was amazed to hear soft moans
of ecstasy inside my head; apparently Chris was unintentionally
broadcasting his pleasure. I felt the boy's back arch and a soft
'oooh' escape his lips, and when I looked down between his legs I saw
that Cory had moved between them and was now sucking on his brother's
penis. Startled at the sight of the stiff little organ being drawn
happily into his mouth, I had to stop what I was doing and watch for a
few seconds. Cory noticed me looking at him and took his lips off of
his brother long enough to smile at me before going back to work. I
had to remind myself that these weren't a couple of naive
nine-year-olds; they had been exposed to the full range of human
feelings and desires since infancy, and had seemingly experimented on
each-other.
Since Cory appeared quite experienced at what he was doing, I
moved back to Chris's mouth. I wanted to be kissing him when he came,
and to feel his young body writhe in pleasure. As my tongue again
entered between his lips he wrapped his arms tightly around my neck,
kissing me almost as passionately as Cory had. While I fingered his
stiff little-boy tits, I could feel his body arching and pushing,
rhythmically pumping in sexual abandon, as Cory and I made love to
him.
I was totally unprepared for what happened next. All the while, I
had been hearing his little moans being broadcast telepathically.
When the boy climaxed, it was as if I was feeling it with him, as
waves of pulsating pleasure filled my head in a burst of pure,
youthful joy, echoed by the quivering body in my arms. I heard Cory
and myself moaning along with him, as we both felt Chris's dry orgasm.
Almost as quickly as it started it was over. "Wow," was all I
could say as I looked in awe at the panting boy spread out on my bed.
"It's neat how he does that, huh?" said Cory, grinning widely
above his brother's wet little dick, which was slowly lowering itself
after it's amazing feat. Chris opened his eyes and smiled happily at
me, glad that he could now share his orgasms with someone other than
his brother.
"You can suck me, if you want," Cory told me impishly, playing
with his brother's now shrunken penis.
"Wait a minute," Chris said, cocking his head. "Mom's home.
She's on her way over here." Cory frowned, as disappointed as I was.
I looked admiringly at the nude boy lying so relaxed on my bed.
"You better get dressed," I told him. Even if Susan didn't mind our
fooling around I didn't feel comfortable having her see us like this.
"Why?" said Chris mischievously, stretching himself out
comfortably and making no move to do what I said.
Instead of saying something typically adult, like 'Because I said
so,' I simply grabbed the boy and flipped him over on his stomach
across my legs, giving his bare butt a few slaps until he laughingly
gave up. Susan knocked just as he finished dressing and we all went
out to greet her.
"Hi guys," said Susan as the boys hugged her hello. Chris asked
if she had seen all their new clothes. "Yes, I did. You're spoiling
them again Tom," she said with mock seriousness. I could tell she
appreciated it, though. "I don't know how to thank you."
"Have him over for dinner," Cory suggested with a shrug. His
simple solution met with approval from us all, and a short while later
we enjoyed a delicious meal of spaghetti and meatballs.
During dinner, an idea began to take shape in my head as I watched
the boys slurping up strings of spaghetti. Chris picked up my thought
and looked at me in astonishment. "You want to write a book about
us?" he asked, his eyes wide.
"Chris!" his mother admonished, realizing he must have been
reading my mind since I hadn't said anything.
"It's alright Susan," I assured her. "I'm used to it by now."
They were all looking at me now, wondering if Chris's remark was
accurate, so I explained. "Well, maybe not about you, but kind of
based on you. It would be a story about two boys like yourselves, but
the rest would be made up. I'm thinking kind of like a sword and
sorcery type book. Fantasy." A couple of my books had been set in
medieval times, so I felt confident of being able to create a made-up
world based on that era. I looked at Cory and Chris and was pleased
to see their eyes wide, flattered speechless about having a book based
on them.
"You mean there'd be magic and stuff?" asked Cory finally.
"Can we help?" his brother asked eagerly.
"I'll be a magician-prince and a warrior," said Cory boastfully.
"Me too!" echoed Chris.
"But I was born first, so that means I get to be King when the old
one dies."
"Hey, wait a minute," argued Chris. Susan rolled her eyes at me
as if to say, 'See what you've started?'
"Hold on you two," I cut in, heading off any further argument.
"I'm the writer here, remember?" They both grinned at me sheepishly.
"It's just an idea right now, but I'll let you know what I come up
with."
We finished our dinner and the boys cleared the table, while I
took a seat on the couch. Once everything was in the dish-washer the
boys joined me while Susan went off to take to take a shower. We
watched old reruns on Nickelodeon again, but my mind was elsewhere,
going through possible plots for the story. Once in a while Chris
would look at me, hearing the ideas in my head and wanting to comment,
but he politely remained silent, not wanting to interrupt me. When
Susan returned I thanked her for the dinner and said good night, since
I wanted to get home and start writing things down. The boys kissed
me goodbye, obviously wondering where my story would take them but
remaining silent, afraid to disrupt my 'creative juices'.
I finished a rough outline for the book that night, surprising
myself at how easy it was. I usually took a few weeks break between
stories, but this one seemed to be rolling out quickly. I guess I was
doubly inspired.
CHAPTER 7
Before I knew it, Cory and Chris had entered 4th grade at their
new school. They seemed to like it, even though they claimed --as all
kids do-- that they didn't. Almost every day they would proudly show
me the A's and B's they got on their schoolwork. Actually, Chris got
most of the A's, and Cory most of the B's. (I had learned from Susan
that their grades used to be as identical as the twins were. They had
cheated. Cory would silently ask his brother what an answer was, and
Chris gave it to him, wrong or right. Their undoing had been the fact
that each had had the same WRONG answers. Their teacher thought they
must have been using elaborate hand-signals. Needless to say, Susan
quickly corrected their ways.) Most parents probably feel relieved
when their kids go off to school. I wasn't the twins' father, but I
couldn't possibly be glad of their absence. I missed watching the
nine-year-olds run around in their speedos (or less) every day. They
were very affectionate young boys, always willing to hug and be
hugged, kiss and be kissed. Especially Chris. He loved to cuddle
with me, sitting in my lap and talking to me with his thoughts. Cory,
on the other hand, was able to feel my desires. The little imp liked
to tease me by kissing me wetly and passionately for a few minutes and
then running off, leaving me all hot and bothered. He always made up
for it though, eventually.
Both boys seemed grateful to have a man in their lives again.
They had different ways of showing it though, which matched their
individual selves. Cory liked to roughhouse, wrestling with me or
begging me to play catch or some other sport outside. He had joined
the soccer team at school, and you could see the absolute joy in his
face when I came with Susan and Chris to watch his games. He was also
well aware of the effect his soccer shorts had on me. The
loose-fitting shorts, combined with calf-covering knee-socks,
highlighted his long, deliciously smooth thighs very nicely. He
almost seemed to flaunt his boyishly-sexy body, just to arouse me.
Ironically, even though Cory was the more 'jockish' of the two, he
didn't think our love-making was sissy or queer. Maybe it was because
he could tell how deeply I cared for him, and he knew (even at the age
of nine) that sex was one way of showing that love.
Chris didn't seem to care much about sports. He played outside
with us, but he just didn't have that competitive desire. He was a
lot like myself, to be honest. The more artistic and creative of the
two, he seemed rather quiet and contemplative, next to his outgoing
brother. He was quite content to sit on my lap while I worked on the
book, and his suggestions for it were really insightful. He could
follow my thoughts on whatever problem I was having and usually come
up with something that would work. Chris seemed to need nothing more
than my love and affection, which I gladly gave. We didn't really
need to be doing anything together, as with Cory. He was taking art
lessons at school, and he definitely showed some talent. He would
beam proudly when I praised his creations, several of which were now
hanging on my refrigerator.
Two boys, identical on the outside, yet so different on the
inside, like two sides of the same coin. I missed them both. Having
them in school left a void in my days, which I tried to fill by
writing. It was a poor substitute, but at least making a book based
on them helped. They were all I ever thought about anyway. It wasn't
until later that I fully understood the depth of their love for
each-other, and for me.
It was only a few days after their education re-started that I
learned just how boundless Chris's telepathy was. I was moping about
the house late one morning, unable to really concentrate on the book,
and considering a job in the teaching profession so I could be near
them again. Perhaps the school needed another janitor. Out of
nowhere came a soft voice. ("Don't be sad,") I heard in my head.
"Jesus!" I shouted, nearly jumping out of my skin. It had sounded
like he was right next to me. "Chris? Aren't you in school?"
Foolishly I looked around, expecting to find him hiding somewhere.
A boyish giggle came before he answered. ("Sorry. I didn't mean
to scare you. Of course I'm in school.")
"You mean you can talk to me all the way from there?" It was
easier for me to speak out-loud. I knew he'd hear.
("Sure.") I could almost picture him shrug. ("Sometimes I get
bored and talk to my mom, but she usually tells me to pay attention to
class. You were feeling sorry for yourself so I thought I'd say
hello. We won't be gone forever, you know.")
"I know," I chuckled, amazed that this boy's mind was unhindered
by distance, and that he cared enough to want to cheer me up. "It
just seems that way, I guess. I miss you. Both of you."
("We'll be back this afternoon, for gosh sakes...Oops, the
teacher's telling me to wake up. I've got my eyes closed. Gotta go.
Bye Tom!") A few seconds pause, then ("Oh. Love you!") He explained
later (when he got home) that he could close his eyes and picture me
or his mom and make a 'connection', no matter where he was. Unlike
his brother, who had to be near someone in order to 'feel' them, Chris
wasn't limited by distance. This became a daily occurrence, and my
days passed easier.
Susan's hours were more regular now that the twins were in school,
getting home every night around six, and we settled into a routine.
First, the boys would come to my place after school and do their
homework. Then they would read what I had written that day for the
book and make comments and suggest a change here or there. I had to
admit they made good editors, telling me their characters, Corin and
Crispen, should do this or that. I took care of Tomas, the character
based on me. I had to be in it too, of course.
In the book, the twins were sorcerer's apprentices, with me being
the sorcerer. Basically, I get captured by an evil king and saved by
the two psychic boys. It was coming along rather well, but I could
tell it was going to be longer than any of my previous stories. I
worried that my young readers might be intimidated by such a long
novel, but the twins assured me that it was just fine, and I trusted
their judgement. Another concern was that it was becoming tinged with
a subtle kind of eroticism. Nothing so graphic as sex, of course, but
with little things like the boys and the sorcerer (me) swimming naked
in a lake, or kissing and hugging quite a bit. There was even a scene
where the man gave the boys a bath, which seemed a bit much, in
hindsight. I had made my character deliberately old, to make him seem
more venerable (who ever heard of a young wizard?), but the boys and
he obviously loved and cared about each-other, and he thought them
beautiful. I mentioned this to Chris one day and he just shrugged,
unconcerned. "But it's just like WE are," he pointed out, meaning the
three of us. "You're writing the story for boys, and I think a lot of
boys would like to have an old man like you love them. Um, I mean
like the sorcerer," he added, his eyes twinkling with amusement. I
had to swat his bottom for that, and he squealed happily at having got
me, but he seemed to know what he was talking about. I let it be.
After the editing session we sometimes went outside to play catch
or throw a frisbee, and usually ended up wrestling in the grass.
Jeremy, the 12-year-old from the pool, occasionally joined us in our
outdoor romps. He and the twins went to the same school and rode the
bus together, and had become good friends. When the three of them
ganged-up on me they could usually get me pinned to the ground with
ease. Actually, I didn't put up much of a fight. I didn't mind being
on the bottom of a giggling pile of boys at all. With the twins, my
hands would poke and grope them everywhere while we struggled, but
with Jeremy I restrained myself to an occasional belly-tickle. He was
certainly tempting, but I wasn't sure how he would react to the
liberties I took with Cory and Chris. Boy-love and paranoia go
hand-in-hand. I'm sure the twins knew I found Jeremy attractive, but
they never said anything about it. It was kind of a "You can look but
don't touch" relationship. They would have been jealous if I shared
my affections with anyone else, the same as I would be if they 'messed
around' with another man.
On cold or rainy days the three of us would cuddle on the couch
watching TV, or play games on the computer. My hands had a good time
stroking the smooth, warm skin under their shirts until Susan came
home. Once in a while things went beyond cuddling and shirts, but we
usually saved our energies for Saturday night. That was when their
mother would go out with friends and Cory and Chris would spend the
night with me.
On some afternoons the twins took the initiative, seemingly
anxious for a bit of sex-play. Whether they were responding to my
desire or their own I don't know. Nor do I care. I think it was the
2nd or 3rd time that I started recognizing the signals of what they
had in mind. They rushed through their homework and tackled me on the
couch, which was how these sessions had always begun. Cory and Chris,
like boys in general, liked to follow a set pattern or routine, and
these little sexual forays seemed to be following the same script. I
suppose it gave them a sense of being in control of the situation, and
they could know what to expect. After we had wrestled a while the
boys would declare that they were hot, and then strip off their
clothes until they wore just their underpants. Staying true to form,
that's what they did. They were both wearing the little bikini-briefs
I had bought for them several weeks ago. Chris wore the leopard-skin
print, and Cory had on his favorite camouflage. The low-rise briefs
covered about as much skin as their speedos had, and their diminutive
boy-parts were nicely outlined beneath the thin material, promising
more to come. The smooth, lean, identical bodies of the two young
boys seemed even more enticing and sensual when they were barely
covered. They knew that I thought this, which was why they left the
tiny garments on. The twins wanted to please me as much as I wanted
to please them, as any good, loving relationship should be.
Free of their clothes, we wrestled some more on the carpet, my
hands poking and squeezing wherever I wanted, until I allowed myself
(as usual) to be pinned. This time it happened to be Cory, straddling
me on my chest with his near-naked body, his thin arms holding mine to
the floor. Leaning over me like that, I got a nice view of his bare
chest, with his tiny nipples pointing at my face. "I win!" he crowed
in his high voice. Following the rules they had established long
before in their own twinly struggles, he grinned impishly, sat up and
pulled down the front of his 'Rambo' briefs. His stiff little boner
stuck out eagerly, waiting for it's reward.
"Kiss it!" he demanded, victorious. Always one to follow the
rules, I lifted my head and he leaned forward again until his pecker
poked at my lips. I placed several kisses on the tender little thing
before taking it in my mouth. Over the past few weeks the rules had
been amended to include a blow-job. My tongue was always happy to
fellate and stimulate their young, hairless hard-ons, something we all
enjoyed to no end since they were dry and could climax several times
in a row.
As soon as I sucked him in, Cory began humping my mouth in
earnest. I wasn't in as much of a hurry as he was, however. I pulled
down his underpants until his butt was bared and grabbed him with my
thumbs on his hips and my fingers squeezing his baby-soft buns. This
way, I could hold him up a bit and also slow him down. I didn't want
his rigid little sausage poking my eye out in his frenzy. Chris
snickered when he heard that thought, then he put a pillow under my
head to make me more comfortable. After only a few minutes of
stroking himself in and out of my mouth, Cory climaxed. I could feel
his buttocks clenching beneath my fingers as his body shuddered in
delight. I think my excitement, combined with his own, made him reach
the peak quicker than his twin could.
His brother was the next youngster on my list of things to do. As
Cory rolled over to catch his breath, I sat up and grabbed hold of
Chris. I was straying from the script just a little, but no-one
complained. He laughed delightedly as he tried to escape, and
squealed in protest as I deftly pulled off his little underpants. The
boy tried heroically to protect his already stiffened cocklet, but to
no avail. My tickling fingers showed no mercy as I playfully squeezed
the tiny organ. Taking the pillow, I stretched Chris out on top of
it, putting it beneath his back. Eager to help torture his brother,
Cory crawled over and held Chris's arms to the floor, over the boy's
head, while I sat lightly on his knees. Chris realized his immobile
predicament at once, and his face showed a kind of dread mixed with
anticipation as he wriggled, trying to escape. It was useless, of
course, but he had to make the effort.
I ran my fingers over his underarms, and Cory had to hold on
tighter as his brother jerked in reflex. Continuing down his naked
body, I stroked over the boy's nipples, feeling the hard little tips
for a few seconds before moving on. His back was arched over the
pillow, and his every breath served to make his ribs and hips stand
out in sharp detail. Chris was grinning as I came to his stiffened
young penis, and it twitched with anticipation when I softly touched
it. He knew exactly what was on my mind, and when I raised myself off
of his knees he willingly lifted his legs and spread himself wide
apart. His thighs were almost at right-angles to his body, with his
knees nearly touching the carpet; young children and gymnasts seem to
share the same limberness.
I stretched out on my stomach on top of him, being careful to keep
my weight on my elbows. If boy-love is a religion, I was about to
perform my devotions. Feeling the heat of his body beneath me, I
kissed the shallow depression in the center of his chest. Tasting him
with my tongue, I licked a small nipple, sensing his life-blood
pumping beneath it's tiny, protruding point. It felt amazingly like
kissing his lips; the two seemed to be made of the same soft
substance, and both could 'pucker'. The boy's breathing increased in
tempo, and I felt his narrow hips rise slightly as he pushed himself
against me. Moving downward, my lips and tongue worshipped the
boy-godling of my faith. His tender, soft flesh was the most precious
substance in existence, and the telepathic moans of pleasure inside my
head made him seem all the more divine. Then I came to the totem, the
idol, of my religion: the phallus. The small, rigid penis stood at
the center of my universe, as well as at the center of his body, my
altar. Beautiful in it's absolute perfection, unblemished by coarse
hair or smelly sweat, I kissed it.
Cory broke the spell. "Hey, he didn't pin you!" he protested,
aware that his twin was about to get a blow-job. Blow-job. Such a
crude word for an act that bordered on divine revelation.
"I don't have to pin him," Chris replied smugly. He turned his
head to stick his tongue out at his brother. Cory scowled and
released his arms, but Chris stayed as he was. "Don't stop," he
breathed softly.
Eager to obey his commands, and to regain the sensations of a
moment before, I caressed him again with my lips. If someone had told
me a few months ago that I would someday be sucking a naked,
spread-eagled, nine-year-old boy on my carpet I would have laughed
derisively. Yet here I was, and it wasn't a dream. It wasn't the
first time either, but it still held me in awe. His tiny testes
rested happily on my tongue as I sucked in his satiny sack. A small
purse of thin, sensitive boy-skin, I could feel the heat within his
body as I rolled the small nuggets around in my mouth. The boy's legs
twitched as I tickled his groin with my oral caresses, and his
whimpers of pleasure now also escaped his lungs as well as his mind.
I went down on his erection, closing my lips around it so quickly that
he groaned in surprise, his body trembling with joyful lust. The
sensitive organ seemed to pulse with a life of it's own as my tongue
slowly stroked it's hard, short length. We were both in heaven, and
Cory's empathy drew him in with us, the feelings we were enjoying
filling his own young body with an equal pleasure. He was breathing
as hard as Chris was as he stretched out alongside him. I had
witnessed their lovemaking before, but it was still a wonder to behold
as they kissed deeply, Cory's hand roaming freely over his brother's
naked chest. He pulled out his own boner and rubbed himself against
Chris's side, his strokes perfectly matching the up and down movements
my mouth was making on his twin.
I was beyond thought as I heard and felt them both struggle
towards the peak, the small penis in my mouth demanding relief as it
pushed upwards beneath me, trying to get every millimeter inside my
suctioning mouth. With a final grunt of effort, both boys climaxed.
Chris's orgasm seemed to flow out of his writhing body directly into
my mind, and I couldn't hold myself back either. I came with them.
Like wood thrown on a fire, our orgasms fed on each-other; Cory not
only felt his own climax, but those of mine and Chris as well. Chris
could feel my mind and his brother's, which increased his own pleasure
and fed it back to us. It was truly a religious experience, and it
left all three of us panting and exhausted when we came back to earth.
It hadn't been the first time we all came at once, but it still left
us speechless, full of wonder that we could share our love so
completely. It also wouldn't be the last.
***
The reader might get the impression that life with my twin loves
was idyllic, that they were never naughty or got into trouble. While
they were better behaved than most boys, they still weren't angels. I
don't really think I wanted them to be, either. As if to prove it,
Cory got into a fight at school. Over Chris, of all things. I was
working at the computer one afternoon when suddenly Chris's panicked
voice filled my head. ("Cory's fighting!") he nearly screamed.
"What!? What's going on?" I shouted to the air.
("It's Cory! He's fighting a BIG kid!") I could tell he expected
me to do something, but what, I don't know. I wasn't there. Before I
could ask him again what was going on, he said a teacher had come over
and had broken it up. Then there was silence. Feeling worried and
helpless, I sat there wondering what to do. I couldn't call the
school and ask if Cory was alright; they would wonder how I knew what
had happened. It wasn't until an hour-and-a-half later that my phone
rang. It was their principal, and she told me what I already knew,
that Cory had been in a fight. I asked if he was alright, and sighed
in relief when she said yes. I also had to come pick him up, so we
could have a 'chat', she said. The fact that she was calling me
didn't surprise me. Susan had given the school my number for
emergencies as well as her own. The principal said she had called
Susan at work, and Susan --apparently deciding I was ready to deal
with insubordination-- told her to call me. How wonderful.
I was not a happy person when I got to the woman's office a short
while later. Chris had stayed after school as well, to wait for his
brother. Outside the office, he sensed my mood as well as Cory could
have, and said nothing. The principal ushered me inside, where Cory
sat with his head down, looking embarrassed. He glanced at me,
feeling my annoyance at having to come here, and his expression was
somewhat guilty, yet there was also a trace of good'ole nine-year-old
stubbornness. He had a small bruise under his left eye, and his
clothes were a mess, but it didn't look like he had been really hurt.
The principal asked what my connection was to the family, and I
said I was a close friend. She probably thought this meant Susan and
I were dating, but that didn't matter. She said she wasn't really
sure who started it, but such behavior would not be tolerated in her
school. She had already spoken to the parent of the other boy
involved. I felt like a kid myself. There's something about being in
a principal's office, no matter what your age. Then she asked if I
was the childrens' author, and we got along swell. Cory sat silently
fidgeting while we talked about my books and finally, after she was
satisfied that I could deal competently with him, she released us.
Riding back home in the car, I said nothing, and neither did the boys.
I knew Cory could feel my irritation and disappointment, and I wanted
him to sweat it out a bit. I could feel him glance nervously at me
once in a while.
("Aren't you gonna say anything?") Chris asked me silently.
("Not just yet,") I thought back at him. ("I'll wait till we're
home.")
Back at my place, I sat on the couch and looked at Cory
expectantly. "It wasn't my fault!" he said hotly, defensively. He
went on to explain that it had all been on account of Chris. It seems
a sixth-grader had decided Chris would be a good subject for his
bullying. Chris had been quietly reading a book underneath a tree
during recess when the older boy came along with some friends, tore
the book from Chris's hands and called him a wimp for liking to read.
Cory (who had been playing basketball) was there in a flash, sensing
his brother's distress. Cory declared that if the older boy wanted to
bother Chris, he'd have to go through him. Push came to shove, and
shove came to hit. Soon both boys were rolling in the dirt, until a
teacher broke it up.
"I didn't ask you to get in a fight over it," Chris said softly,
slightly embarrassed. Cory was staring at me defiantly, daring me to
find fault with him for wanting to protect his baby brother.
"Your excuse may be good," I told him slowly, gathering my
thoughts, "but that's still no way to behave. If Chris wasn't being
hurt, and he didn't ask for you to help him, you should have stayed
out of it."
Cory looked at me in disbelief. I knew what he was thinking, even
if I wasn't psychic. How could I say such a thing? How come I wasn't
proud of him for sticking up for his twin? Actually I was, because it
made me realize once again how deeply he loved his brother, but
fighting had to be stopped. "Chris would've just sat there and took
it!" he declared, his anger rising. Chris looked slightly insulted at
this.
"You're not always going to be around when Chris needs your help,"
I explained patiently. "Sooner or later he'll have to deal with a
situation like that on his own, and you won't be there. If he sits
there and takes it, so be it. If he fights back, so be it. The point
is that he has to make the decision himself. Fighting is no way to
solve anything, but I hope he would defend himself if worse came to
worse. Next time, stay out of it."
Cory took this as an affront to his role of 'big brother'. His
face darkened and he said with a quiet, yet deadly voice, "You don't
have any right to tell me what to do. You're not my father." Chris's
jaw dropped in shock as he looked at his twin in disbelief. In a way,
it was good to know that even an empathic boy could lash out with a
bit of healthy rebellion, but his words still stung a little.
I looked him in the eye and I knew he felt my hurt, but he still
had a stubborn expression. "You're absolutely right Cory," I said
calmly. "I'm not your father. Just because I care a great deal about
what happens to you and Chris doesn't give me any right to tell you
what to do. I guess you can go."
Now it was Cory's turn to look surprised. It obviously hadn't
been what he expected. Chris gave me an admiring smile; he knew
exactly what I was doing. Cory half-turned as if to leave,
indecisive, then faced me, biting his lip worrisomely. "I...I didn't
mean that," he said, his face apologetic. He struggled for words.
"You're b-better than a father."
I pulled him to me and gave him a hug, letting him know the
spiteful words were forgotten. Things said in anger should never be
taken seriously. His body was stiff at first, but then he relaxed as
the last trace of resistance washed away and he hugged me back. Cory
stood back up and promised he wouldn't get in any more fights, unless
of course his brother actually needed help. I could live with that.
"Are you gonna punish me?" he asked worrisomely, but he also looked
somewhat hopeful. I realized he wanted some kind of reprimand; to his
thinking, it was another one of those father-son type things that he
thrived on.
"Spank him!" Chris suggested gleefully. Cory gave him a dark
look.
"No, I think he'd LIKE that too much," I teased.
"You mean YOU would," Cory retorted with a smirk. I tried to grab
him but he skipped away, laughing.
I came up with something that would fit the crime. "I know what.
Your punishment is to do the dishes, dry 'em and put 'em away."
"But you've got a dishwasher!" Cory objected. So did their
mother. Dishes were not something these boys had to do very often.
My dishwasher was full, too, and he knew it.
"I know I do," I said smugly. "I'm looking at him." Chris
chuckled and Cory grumbled at him as he stomped into the kitchen
without another word. Soon we heard dishes clanking a bit roughly in
the sink.
Chris looked at me thoughtfully. "He's not really mad," he said
softly. "He kind of wanted you to punish him."
"I know he did," I said, feeling rather pleased with myself at the
way I had handled everything. I was sure Susan would approve.
Chris cocked his head, studying me. "You're pretty smart."
"Of course," I boasted. "I'm a boyologist!"
After a while, we silently went to the kitchen and helped Cory
finish his punishment. "So," I said, putting away a glass, "you
actually took on a 6th-grader?" Cory's proud, smiling face could have
lit up a darkened room.
CHAPTER 8
October came along with all the colors of a Midwestern fall, and
the unavoidable happened: Cory and Chris turned 10. Their age no
longer in the single-digits, my young friends could no longer be
considered little boys, if indeed they ever were. They acted normal
enough, but I knew how hard it had been for them to deal with their
talents while growing up. Most little kids were safe and secure from
the harsh realities of the outside world, but not Cory and Chris.
Their so-called innocence had been stripped from them while they were
still in diapers. To avoid being feared and misunderstood they had
learned at an early age to keep their talents hidden. Rejected by
their own father, the boys depended on Susan's love --and their love
for each-other-- to counter-balance what they heard and felt around
them every day. The twins had always slept together, in spite of
having bunk-beds; it made them feel more secure.
Susan had told me that when they were still very young the three
of them sometimes went for walks to the park. Occasionally they would
come upon a homeless person huddled against a wall somewhere. Cory
would look gravely at the man or woman, feeling the destitute
hopelessness coming from the person's very soul. The boy would glare
at his mother angrily, as if she should be able to make things better,
yet knowing she was as helpless as he. With a solemn face, Cory would
dig in his pockets and give the person whatever he found; be it a
piece of string, a stray penny or nickel, or some pretty stone he had
found earlier. The little boy's honest, sincere compassion usually
brought forth a tear and a "God bless you child" from the individual
as they took his small offering. It might have been worthless, but it
was far from meaningless. The only thing that could ever make one of
the twins hurt another human-being was if the other were in danger.
They were good boys, and it was an honor to be loved by them.
On the Saturday of their birthday I threw them a big party at the
local pizza-parlor. We invited quite a few of their friends from
school, including several girls. I was fairly sure neither Cory or
Chris was gay, although obviously I wouldn't have had any problem with
it if they were. They had both had a crush on a female teacher once,
and now I could see how they were behaving towards their pretty
schoolmates. (Pretty for girls, that is. Their beauty paled in
comparison to that of the handsome pair of boys.) While a single boy
would be somewhat torn between acting shy and showing-off, the twins
split the two behaviors between them. Chris acted shy and Cory did
the showing-off. For Cory that basically meant acting silly, and more
than a little rude. He belched a lot, or opened his mouth wide to
present a lovely display of half-chewed pizza. The girls were
suitably disgusted. Susan was mostly shocked, and put a stop to it
soon enough.
No, they weren't gay. The two of them were simply at that
pre-adolescent stage in life where the male body, with it's familiar
anatomy, was more fun to play with and more interesting than a girl's.
After all, what parts did a girl have that could be stroked and
fondled to an obvious state of arousal? Cory and Chris had a very
hedonistic attitude when it came to their bodies and sex. Basically,
if it felt good, they did it. Or let ME do it. Their attraction to
me was based more on love and friendship, rather than anything
physical, and our love-making grew out of that. We just wanted to
make each-other feel as good as possible, which is what love is all
about. It was why I threw them a party; I wanted them to be happy and
have fun.
I was sort of the celebrity guest-of-honor as well as the host,
since most of the kids had read some of my books or had at least heard
of me. The twins flaunted me like some kind of prize-trophy, making
sure there were no doubts over whom I belonged to. Autographed place
mats and napkins were freely given, with their permission. Cory
boastfully told his friends that I was writing my next book about him
and his brother, which impressed everyone nicely. I wasn't sure if it
had been wise to say this, since the story dealt with their psychic
talents, but it was too late now and both boys were really proud about
the book. I suppose they could pass off the telepathic parts as
fiction, if they wanted.
I got to meet Susan's parents when they came a little later. They
seemed like a friendly couple, and reminded me a lot of my old
neighbors. I'm sure they thought that Susan and I had a 'thing'
going. Little did they know that my thing was for their grandsons.
The boys hugged them hello, but I could see some uneasiness between
them and their grandmother. She knew of their talents, and it
obviously made her uncomfortable being around them, which the twins
could sense. It was a shame, really. Every kid needs that special
spoiling that only grandparents can give. Their grandfather, for his
part, seemed to be at ease around them, and they with him. The twins
led him off to play the various games the pizza-parlor offered, and
all three were having a good time.
I gave the boys their gifts afterwards, when we were back home and
by ourselves. Cory and Chris had insisted on spending the night since
it was a Saturday, even though their mom hadn't gone out. I certainly
didn't mind. I watched anxiously as they sat on the floor in front of
me and tore open their presents, their faces filled with boyish
curiosity and eagerness. Chris had reluctantly promised not to read
my mind and ruin the surprise, so when they finally got the boxes open
and saw what I had bought for them both boys were...stunned? Amazed?
Definitely surprised. "Do you like them?" I asked, my voice sounding
worried, hoping they weren't disappointed.
Chris was holding a Barney The Dinosaur coloring book and
audio-tape, while Cory had a stuffed Barney doll and video-tape. I
didn't care very much for the singing purple dinosaur myself, but he
seemed to be rather popular lately. The twins looked slightly
bewildered though, as if there had been some kind of mistake.
"Barney The Dinosaur?" Cory asked in disbelief, his voice rising
into the upper octaves on the last syllable. Chris elbowed him in the
ribs, giving him a warning look. Chris was always the more mannerly
of the two.
"Uhh...Gee Tom...Thanks," said Chris, trying his best to be
polite, but looking woefully disappointed and avoiding my eyes.
"You don't like your gifts, do you," I accused, sounding both
sorry and hurt, as if it were their fault and not mine. I knew they
could tell how badly I felt. Both boys looked miserably pained, torn
between not wanting to hurt my feelings and telling me the truth,
which was obvious. I had made a serious blunder. Barney was a gift
for little kids. How could I have been so stupid?
"Um, sure we do Tom," Chris began, failing in his attempt to sound
sincere. "They're...um...nice?" He looked at his brother for help,
but Cory seemed to be still in shock. The boy was looking at me as if
I had somehow taken leave of my senses. "Barney??" Cory asked again,
his face scrunched up in mind-boggled amazement.
Their crestfallen expressions were too much for me; my
concentration wavered and a small chuckle escaped me. Both boys
immediately gave me suspicious looks, their eyes narrowing in doubt.
I couldn't keep up the charade any longer. "Barney?!?" I cried,
imitating Cory's high voice and comical face. I lost it. Cascades of
cackling laughter rolled out of me as the boys frowned in disgust at
each-other and then at me. They'd been had. Royally. I laughed even
harder. Cory and Chris had fallen for it completely, and I'd given an
Oscar-winning performance.
The two brothers scowled at me some more until finally they'd had
enough of my maniacal howling. "Let's get him!" Cory declared to his
twin, apparently unable to just stand there and take it any longer.
Suddenly I was attacked by two just-turned ten-year-olds, tickling,
poking and pinning me until we were all laughing so hard we fell off
the couch in a tangled heap. It was great. I'd fooled the psychic
twins!
Once I'd gotten myself under control again --which wasn't easy
with them tickling me-- Cory asked, "You do have something else for
us, right?" His tone said I'd better have, if I wanted to live.
I chuckled again, wiping a tear of laughter from my eye. "Of
course I do. They're under--" Before I could say "the couch" Chris
was already looking underneath it. I was too exhausted to try and
control my thoughts anymore. I could never do it for very long
anyway. He pulled out two small, identical boxes and handed one to
Cory. I watched with a bemused expression as they hesitated, looking
at me doubtfully and then the gifts as if the boxes might be rigged
with spring-loaded snakes or some other devious device.
"Go ahead," I told them, "those are the real ones." They ripped
open their gifts --showing no mercy to the wrapping paper-- and each
pulled out a shiny gold necklace. "Do you like those better?" I
asked, this time with genuine concern.
Cory gave me a side-long glance and shrugged his shoulders.
"Yeah, they're okay, I guess." He didn't sound very enthusiastic. Now
I really felt bad. I thought they'd like a more adult type gift.
They had gotten plenty of toys at the party. Cory let me suffer for a
few moments and then he broke out in a wide grin. "I'm just teasing,"
said the little imp. "I like it."
"Yeah," his brother agreed, "they're cool. Put it on for me." He
came over and sat beside me, handing me the necklace. I fastened the
thin, delicate chain around his neck, and did the same for Cory. The
18-karat gold looked good on them, sparkling almost as brightly as
their brown eyes. I've always felt that a beautiful boy looked even
sexier with a simple adornment such as a necklace or an ear-stud. It
somehow served to enhance the uncomplicated, pure beauty of boyhood.
The twins covered me with kisses, thanking me for the gifts (the real
ones, anyway) and the party, and all was well with the world. Well,
almost. They did vow to get even for my joke. When I least expected
it, of course.
We watched TV for a while, all three of us cuddling together on
the couch. My hands would slide inside the shirts of my identical
friends, stroking over their soft backs and bellies. It was
delightfully cozy. Cory asked for a beer, and since it was their
birthday I decided to indulge him. Chris even took a few swallows, to
celebrate the occasion. Then we followed what had become our
Saturday-night routine, which started with the three of us taking a
shower together. It was rather crowded, but it was certainly fun. I
had promised to have an outdoor, enclosed hot-tub built in the
back-yard next spring, so we could enjoy our aquatic activities more
fully.
With my back to the spray and Chris facing his twin in front of
me, I bent down and lathered the boy from neck to groin. My hands
could feel every delicate curve and contour of Chris's naked body as
they slid up and down his soapy front. My favorite features in this
wet, slippery expanse of sudsy boy-flesh were his pointed nipples and
small, hardened cocklet. All three of us were sporting healthy
erections, actually. Occasionally I'd gently tweak a stiffened
boy-tit while my other hand slid over and around his very sensitive
genitals; Chris would respond with a low groan and a pulsing, eager
thrust of his little hard-on against my hand. Cory lovingly washed
his brother's legs, gently stroking Chris's inner thighs and tickling
his tiny nuts, while I turned the attention of one hand to the boy's
backside. Lower backside, to be precise. I intimately cleaned
between the rubbery halves of his perky little butt, creating a great
deal of lather and giggles. Chris shivered in delight as his young
body tingled with pleasure, and started humping harder against my
sudsy hand when I tickled his anus with a fingertip. He came when the
finger started pushing inside him, sharing the orgasm with us as only
he could.
After rinsing him off Cory took up station between us, eager for
the same treatment. I gladly obliged. Then it was my turn. With
Cory in front and Chris behind me, they washed and rubbed me
everywhere, being sure not to miss a spot. Their small hands
fluttering over my body gave me chills of pleasure, and the boys
chuckled devilishly with the knowledge of their absolute power over
me. Cory masterfully soaped my erection, being careful not to take me
past the point of no return. That would come later (no pun intended).
When I first explained to them the joy --and need-- of delaying an
orgasm, they were slightly confused. A pre-teen boy can orgasm
repeatedly; the adult-male's need to delay it seemed like an alien
concept to them. They constantly teased me about it, saying my
ability to only cum two times (once for each of them, of course) made
me an old fart.
After quickly washing our hair we rinsed off one final time and
grabbed our towels. Once dry, the twins headed for my room while I
went around the house turning off the lights. I left a hall-light on,
which dimly lit my bedroom enough to see two nude, squeaky-clean
boy-angels already engaged in nocturnal diversions on top of the
covers. Laying on their sides in the 69 position, the twin boys each
silently suckled on an identical, stiffened penis. I stretched out
alongside them, stroking the soft, curving flanks of first one and
then the other, watching with wonder as they made love. It never
ceased to amaze me how much they cared for each-other; so close in
mind, body and spirit, one could never hit or otherwise hurt the other
without feeling it himself. Pleasuring themselves bordered on
narcissism. Their bodies moved as one, the buttocks of both boys
flexing and relaxing in perfect unison as the rhythms of sex took
control. Eyes closed, heads nestled dreamily on a smooth thigh, Cory
and Chris tenderly tongued and sucked on each-other's excited
genitals, twin little cocks sliding in and out of identical, puckered
mouths. It was the most intimate act of brotherly-love I have ever
witnessed. They came together of course, giving themselves a
wonderfully personal birthday-gift.
After resting for a few minutes they turned their attentions to
me. Pushing me onto my back, Chris snuggled his delightfully bare
body next to mine and softly stroked my chest, playing with my nipples
until they almost hurt. My one hand ran up and down the supremely
soft, warm skin of his back, down to his baby-soft buttocks.
I knew what was coming next, but it always took me by surprise
when Cory started kissing my cock, sending a shudder through my whole
body. Laying between my legs, Cory was a maestro, playing my
instrument of love with an expertise rarely seen in a young boy.
Taking as much of me as he could, Cory sucked and licked the head of
my erection, and used his empathic sense to bring me to the brink time
and time again before backing off. My dick was covered with his warm,
slippery spit, and he used his hands to squeeze and stroke what his
mouth couldn't cover. Chris began darting his tongue over one of my
tits, occasionally nibbling on it as well. It was wonderful,
maddening, intense. The twins knew exactly how to turn me on, sensing
my reactions through body and mind. They were playing a duet, and I
was their groaning, whimpering, musical instrument. Cory's little
tongue slurped and slobbered to-and-fro on my cock like a boy with a
popsicle, one moment swirling around the head and the next driving it
in and out of his mouth. When I got to the point where I thought I'd
go insane if I didn't climax, Cory took me all the way. I cried out
as my body orgasmed and Cory felt it just as intensely as I did, his
small frame shivering between my legs. I exploded in the boy's mouth,
and he sucked on me almost greedily, swallowing every spurt until I
was finished and then squeezing out that last drop. I opened my eyes
to see Cory grinning at me from above my wilting cock; he seemed
rather pleased with himself, and licked his lips in satisfaction.
After I'd regained my breath Cory climbed up my body and snuggled
on top of me, laying his small head on my chest. Feeling mischievous,
I tickled his sides and under his hips. The boy giggled and squirmed
against me, his bare skin sliding like living velvet on my own.
Moving quickly I rolled us over so that I had him pinned beneath me.
Cory smiled at me expectantly, and we kissed. His lips were softer
than soft, molding to my own perfectly as we explored each-other's
mouths, tasting each-other's saliva. I could feel Chris's hands
stroking us both, patiently waiting his turn.
I moved down Cory's young, perfect body, kissing and licking the
tiny points of his nipples, tonguing his navel until he giggled, then
pecking at his pecker, still standing at attention. My own was coming
back to life already. A willing, beautiful, naked boy does wonders
for one's sexual stamina. I gave his aroused genitals a few licks,
sucking first one and then both of his tiny balls into my mouth, and
then worked my way lower towards his nether regions. Cory eagerly
lifted his slender legs and spread them wide up in the air, granting
my tongue and lips access to his small hole. Both boys had been
surprised and delighted when I first tried this on them; they hadn't
discovered the pleasures of anal stimulation on their own yet. In
fact it was the one thing they wouldn't do to each-other, saving the
delicacy for me to enjoy.
Cory whined softly as my tongue stroked the length of his hairless
crack, and the tiny pucker loosened as I pushed inside his body,
tasting the very essence of ten-year-old boyhood. It was heavenly. I
could have sustained my body on nothing else for several days. Chris
fondled his brother's little cock, while I enjoyed myself. After a
few minutes of this I started inserting my middle-finger, first
wetting it down with some spit. Feeling his little sphincter clamp
down at first and then relaxing to allow it entry, soon my finger was
embedded deep inside the youngster's bottom, a place it had been
before on many occasions. Cory shuddered and moaned as I pressed on
the tiny bulb of his prostate, sending intense pleasure-signals
through his entire being. I took his straining erection in my mouth
and he came almost immediately, his sphincter spasming around my
finger as I touched the magic button again, the boy's little penis
twitching merrily in my mouth. He was panting when it finished,
exhausted, and I withdrew my finger as he lowered his legs back to the
bed.
"Wow," said Cory, at a loss for words. I climbed up his body and
crouched over him, and gave him a small kiss. Cory's face had a
small, gentle smile on it; he was happy. I was too.
"Now do me!" demanded Chris, rolling over on his back next to us.
I groaned theatrically, as if all this boy-loving were a chore. He
wasn't fooled. I was about to shift over to him when Cory wrapped his
arms around me, holding me in place.
"Wait a minute," he said, sounding somewhat nervous. He raised
his legs back up. "I...um," he glanced at Chris, and his brother
nodded encouragingly at him. Then he said, all-in-a-rush,
"I-want-you-to-put- your-dick-in-me."
I was too stunned to speak. Cory studied my face for a moment and
then took matters into his own hands; he grabbed my cock and aimed it
at his back-door. I almost started pushing and then caught myself,
rolling over next to him instead so that he was between me and Chris.
Chris was silent, watching me (and listening) as my thoughts churned.
"What's the matter?" asked Cory, lowering his legs and looking
slightly hurt that I had pulled away. "Don't you want to...well, you
know, fuck me?" Chris raised his eyebrows at his brother's use of the
F-word, and it left me slightly shocked as well.
I had to clear my throat before I could speak. "Cory, I don't
think you're big enough for that yet," I explained patiently. I was
more than willing to wait a year or two, if he still wanted to do it
then. "If we do it now I'm afraid I'd hurt you, and I don't want to
do that." I tried kissing him, but he wasn't having any of it.
"I'm 10 years old now," he stated stubbornly, as if he had somehow
grown since yesterday, when he was nine. "Besides," he pointed out,
"your finger felt good up there."
"Cory," I said, fearing I was losing my resolve, "my dick is a lot
bigger than my finger. I don't think it could fit without hurting
you." Hurting either of the boys was an impossibility, something I
wouldn't even consider.
"You've thought of doing it though," he accused, and I felt guilty
because I HAD considered it. "I know 'cause Chris told me." I glanced
at Chris and he shrugged. There were no secrets between them. I had
no secrets FROM them. Chris still hadn't said anything; I suspected
he was waiting to see what the outcome would be. If I consented, it
would mean a yes for both of them. There was no way I could only do
it with one and not the other.
"Sure, I've thought of doing it," I admitted, stroking Cory's firm
chest and playing with a delicate nipple, "but I don't NEED to do it."
This was the truth; I didn't need to fuck either of them in order to
love them. Most man/boy sex never gets beyond the oral stage,
something the hysterical public can't seem to grasp. However, I did
figure we would 'go all the way' eventually. It was the natural
progression of how our love was growing. I just didn't expect for
them to bring it up quite this soon.
"But I want to try it now," he said earnestly. "I don't want to
wait until I'm older." I was weakening and the empathic boy knew it.
"I'll tell you if it hurts and if it does we'll stop. Okay?" He
looked at me hopefully, and I knew he could feel my desire for him.
He could see it too, standing stiffly once again. "Besides," he
added, playing his final card, "it's our birthday so you have to do
what we say."
How could any normal boy-lover say no? How could ANY man, and not
regret it for the rest of his life? I nodded yes, and told Chris to
go get a jar of Vaseline from the medicine-cabinet in the bathroom.
He gave me a curious look, and I explained it was to make Cory
slippery inside.
"Have you done this before?" Chris asked suspiciously. I said
this would be my first time, and he looked jealously at his brother.
"Why should you be the first one?" he said, looking rather annoyed.
"Why can't I go first?" I couldn't believe they would argue over who
would get to lose his virginity first. I realized it wasn't that
though; it was over who would be MY first.
Cory looked silently at his identical sibling, and I knew they
were arguing in private. Chris looked stubborn and Cory gave him an
almost pleading look. Cory must have made some kind of bargain,
because his brother seemed to be contemplating something, and then
Chris nodded his approval. They sealed the arrangement with their
exclusive "double-promise", linking their pinkies and shaking them
once together. I was left wondering what had transpired as Chris gave
me a peculiar little smile and scampered off for the gel. I suggested
to Cory that he lay on his stomach, but he wanted to stay on his back.
When Chris returned I placed a pillow underneath Cory's rear-end and
he raised his legs back up in the air. I scooped out a gob of gel and
smeared it around his little hole, teasing it with a fingertip. He
was tense, and I knew if this was ever going to work I needed to get
him relaxed. And I did want it to work. I was honest enough with
myself to admit that.
"There's no hurry," I told him. "We have to stretch your hole a
little first and you need to learn how to relax it. Okay?" He nodded
and shivered as my finger started pushing inside him again. Chris and
I stretched out on either side of him, and he rested his legs behind
us. I kissed him while my finger played inside his hot, narrow
tunnel, and could see by the hard little organ between his legs that
he was enjoying the stimulation. After a while I took some more
Vaseline and tried for two. "Push your belly muscles like your trying
to take a crap," I told him as my fingertips tried entering him.
Chris giggled at that, watching the whole operation intently. If this
worked, he would be next. Maybe not tonight but sometime in the near
future. We spent the next half-hour like that; my fingers gently
sliding in and out, our hands and mouths caressing the naked boy
everywhere, driving Cory to yet another intense orgasm until he was as
loose and relaxed as could be.
"Are you gonna do it now?" he asked, sounding slightly impatient.
For an answer, I got up and lubed my penis. I put more on Cory's
already slippery hole, and got between his legs as he lifted them
almost to his shoulders, his little package still stiff and pointing
at his face. I had him pry apart his buttocks, figuring that would
help, and told him that he was in charge; meaning he should tell me
when to push and when to stop. In spite of my nervousness my dick was
as hard as it could get. I crouched over the young boy beneath me and
felt Chris guide my erection to his brother's hole, nosing it's head
against the small, greasy opening. Fortunately --for both of us-- my
dick wasn't very big; I suppose boy-lovers are the only men who
wouldn't mind being slightly smaller than average. I pushed against
his tight anus, and could feel him reflexively clamp down on the tip.
"Wait a sec," he said, forcing himself to relax again. "Okay."
Again I pushed slowly, firmly, and I could see Cory strain as he
pushed down with his stomach muscles. After several minutes of
starting and stopping, his loosened little rose-bud had finally
stretched far enough to grant me entrance. I was in. Just the head
so far, but in nevertheless. Cory told me to wait again as his
sphincter struggled to get used to my presence. I could feel an
occasional spasm as it grabbed the head of my cock, but Cory seemed to
be dealing with it quite well. I asked him if he was okay, and he
gave me a determined smile. He probably wouldn't have told me even if
it hurt, in spite of what he had said before, but I was sure I could
tell by watching his face beneath me in the dim light.
I couldn't believe it had been that easy to enter him; I had
always thought that a boy's first time was usually painful. Maybe the
last few weeks of tongue-and-finger-fucking had loosened things up a
bit. I was glad it wasn't hurting him. I wanted it to be as special
for him as it was for me, if not more so. When Cory was ready again
he told me to push some more, and I felt the flesh of my rock-hard
penis being absorbed a fraction at a time by his tight, virgin rectum,
pausing whenever he told me to. Finally, I could go no further. My
pubic-hairs were tickling the young boy's scrotum. Cory suddenly
shuddered almost violently, legs twitching on either side of me as he
clamped down hard on my cock and cried out. I thought he was in pain
and started to pull back, but he shook his head quickly from side to
side and I realized he had climaxed again. His forehead was covered
in sweat, his bangs sticking wetly to his fevered brow. If I hadn't
cum once before I would never have made it this far. My entire being
was thrumming with the incredible, living, squeezing heat of his
inner-body.
"I can feel you almost up to my stomach," Cory said breathlessly,
sounding slightly awed at this wonderful new sensation. He squeezed
down on my cock, getting to know it's shape and feel inside him, and
both of us groaned with pleasure. I could feel the sensitive muscles
lining his rectum gripping me tightly, surrounding my penis with a
vise-like heat until he relaxed again. Cory smiled hungrily, able to
sense the ultimate pleasure his body gave me, and his own feelings of
horny young lust combined to make him thirsty for more.
"Doesn't it hurt?" asked Chris, studying the junction of man and
boy curiously, fondling his own erection as he sat beside us.
"It's kinda hard to describe," Cory told him. They looked
intently at each-other, sharing the experience in their unique, twinly
way.
I began fucking him. Pulling almost all the way out, I slowly,
gently pushed back in. "Ohhh God," Cory whimpered, bearing down to
meet my thrust. He was totally open and relaxed now, resting his
ankles on my back, his hands now balled into fists beside his head. I
was fucking him. I pushed my length inside him again, and again,
sliding in and out easily now. I was fucking a boy on his tenth
birthday. My mind refused to believe it, insisting this had to be yet
another fantasy, but my body knew no dream could compare with this
awesome reality. Cory moaned with passionate feeling, whimpering
either "Oh Jesus," or "Oh Tom," each time I embedded myself deep
within his beautiful young body, somehow including me in the Holy
Trinity. I knew the empathic boy could feel how intensely every
nerve, every fiber of my being was concentrated on the loving union of
our bodies as we experienced this ultimate of firsts. He pushed his
bottom back eagerly each time I slowly entered his still-tight canal,
his ankles digging into the small of my back, both of us moving as
one. His hands gripped my forearms for added leverage as we rocked
together. The boy's trembling gasps of pleasure as my cock massaged
his prostate made me pick up the tempo, pushing into him faster now,
both of us nearly crying as we climbed towards the peak. We came
together, suddenly, yelling out as our bodies pulsed and throbbed in
unison, my penis spurting deep inside him as his sphincter clutched at
it possessively, the tendons in his neck straining as he almost
screamed from the violent spasms wracking our bodies. In the back of
my mind I could hear Chris moaning as well, caught in our spiral until
we came back to earth.
Completely drained, both of us covered in sweat, I pulled my
member from the youngster's body and fell beside him. Cory rolled
over and hugged me fiercely. He was crying. Not from pain, but from
the intense feelings of a sexual, undeniably passionate love that
neither of us had ever before experienced. It had simply overwhelmed
him. I wrapped my arms around both the boys, soothing Cory until he
fell quickly asleep from sheer exhaustion. Chris snuggled beside me,
and soon joined his twin in slumber. Chris may not have been my
first, but I knew he had been able to share the experience through
Cory. It was something none of us would ever forget.
I didn't sleep much that night. I never did when the twins were
with me. Somehow, when a boy-lover shares a bed with a boy (or two)
he can only manage an occasional doze. I drifted in and out of sleep,
my mind constantly aware of the two naked boys curled up along either
side of me, one of whom had given me the ultimate gift. Fondling the
sleeping twins was something I couldn't stop myself from doing. My
hands were thieves in the night, stealing touches from their soft,
pliant bodies. I played with their occasional, nocturnal erections so
gently that they never woke.
When morning regretfully came the boys stirred groggily. They had
no objections to staying in bed and cuddling a while longer. It was a
Sunday and no-one felt like moving. I asked Cory if he was alright,
and he smiled almost shyly and hugged me tenderly, remembering the
passion of last night with no regrets. I inspected his posterior, and
although his little hole wasn't quite as little as it used to be there
wasn't any blood or signs of damage, thank God. Finally, hunger made
us seek breakfast. Cereal made that an easy chore. Afterwards, the
boys offered to cremate the dreaded Barney gifts, but I insisted they
take them home to Susan and she could donate them to the children's
wing at the hospital. They dressed and said their goodbyes, but I
knew they'd be back later in the day to play a game or something.
I worked on the book for the time being. I'd probably have it
finished by early next month, at the rate I was going. My last book
was about to hit the stores, and the twins were impressed when I
showed them the good reviews in the newspaper. They had offered to
help me answer my fan-mail, which usually increased whenever a new one
came out, and I gladly accepted.
Struggling for a word in a difficult sentence (writing is work,
even for an author), I was lost in thought when someone jabbed two
fingers in my sides and yelled, "Boo!!" right in my ear, scaring the
daylights out of me. The room was filled with Chris's boyish laughter
as he crowed with delight, the little bugger. I hadn't heard a thing
as he snuck up on me. "Is that what they mean by jumping out of your
skin?" he giggled, smiling broadly. I noticed he wisely stayed out of
my reach. That's one thing you have to say about boys: they keep you
on your toes. Dealing with two was twice the adventure. Add the word
psychic to the equation and even a boy-lover would find himself
slightly overwhelmed.
"Maybe I better start locking my door," I told him wryly.
"Sure, go ahead," said the boy confidently. "I know where you
hide the extra key."
"I'll move it."
"I'll know where you move it to," he pointed out simply. He had
me there. Another argument lost to a ten-year-old. I sighed with
resignation at my fate in life, and asked him where Cory was. "He
stayed home with Mom," said Chris with a shrug. Sensing that I had
given up and wouldn't try anything, he climbed on the chair with me,
straddling the arm-rests with his legs and wrapping me up in a
friendly boy-hug. ("I've got you all to myself,") I heard inside my
head.
"What are you gonna do with me?" I asked worrisomely, already
suspecting what he had in mind. For an answer, the boy started
nuzzling my neck, giving me an instant hard-on. I pushed my hands
underneath his sweatshirt and stroked his back, while his moist lips
caressed me. I tilted my head to the side, exposing as much of my
neck as I could. His mouth fastened in the center, and with surprise
I felt him start sucking. I heard a soft purr, and was amazed when I
realized it was coming from me. I could hear and feel his lips
suckling like some kind of insatiable boy-vampire trying to draw
blood, and it was a totally new, erotic experience for me. It made my
whole body tingle. It was also new because Chris was playing the
seducer, a role that Cory usually filled. Sometimes I thought they
were experimenting with me, trying out new things that might come in
handy when they grew up. When my neck finally started to hurt Chris
stopped and admired his handiwork.
"You've got a hickey!" he said with glee, sounding rather proud of
himself.
His happy smile made me chuckle. "What will your mother think?" I
asked in mock alarm. Well, maybe not totally "mock". How far did
Susan's blessing extend? To hickeys? As far as Cory and I went last
night?
Chris heard my doubts, in spite of my joking manner. "Mom doesn't
care," he said, trying to reassure me. Somehow I doubted that.
"Well, I mean she CARES," he elaborated, "but as long as it's
something we want to do it's okay. She says most people tell their
kids to say no about sex and stuff, but she says it's okay to say yes
too, 'cause it's our bodies." The boy gave me a confidential look.
"Besides, she had a hickey once. From an old boy-friend. But she
called it a love-bite."
I had to laugh at that. Chris smiled at me, glad that he had put
my fears to rest. Then he turned serious, hesitating slightly. "Can
we pretend it's still my birthday?" he asked softly. "And you have to
do what I want?"
There was no need for me to answer. At that moment, he could have
asked me to jump off a cliff and I would have done it, as long as I
could kiss him one final time. I was pretty sure where this was
leading, and I suspected that the deal Cory had made with his twin
last night had been to leave Chris and I alone, just the two of us.
"Are you sure this is what you really want to do?" I asked him.
"You're not just doing this because Cory did, are you?"
("I love you,") the boy thought at me. Honest, simple, right to
the point. I hugged him, giving my consent to whatever he wanted to
do. I was consenting to the assumed child in the relationship; the
irony wasn't lost on me. He wanted to take a bath with me first,
which seemed like an excellent way to get us relaxed. He told me
--silently-- that there was to be no talking. We could only converse
through our minds. I realized it was his way of sharing his talent
with me, making the experience uniquely different from that which Cory
and I had shared.
We went to my bedroom and stripped off our clothes, walking naked,
hand-in-hand, to the bathroom. I looked in the mirror at my
love-bite, a reddish-purple bruise in the small, oval shape of a
mouth, right in the center of my neck. He had put his mark on me; I
was his now. Our minds were totally open to each-other (much like his
and Cory's must have usually been), and the general drift was
basically thoughts of love and friendship, mingled with 'That feels
nice', or 'The water's too hot', or 'Rub it faster'.
We were stretched out in the tub, Chris laying on his belly on top
me while I scooped water over his back, massaging him. I thought if
he would spread his legs a bit I could insert a finger and play with
his hole, so he did. I heard a thought flutter by from him about
kissing, and then we were. We had only to think of something and it
was carried out; a union of mind and body. It was almost a spiritual
type of love-making, while with Cory it had been mostly physical. I
liked both methods equally, which was fortunate. Loving one boy more
than the other would have created a jealous rift between them,
something I would never let happen.
When we finished our bath we held hands again as we walked down
the hall to my bedroom. Last night, with Cory, it had been sort of
impromptu, although I suspected they might have been planning the
whole thing all along. Now, here with Chris, it felt like I was
leading a virgin bride down the aisle and then on to our honeymoon
suite, about to perform a premeditated deflowering that would
consummate our love forever. Society would probably say it was more
like leading a lamb to the slaughter, I suppose. They would have been
hard pressed to tell exactly who was leading whom though.
Still keeping vocal-silence, I laid down on my back and pulled the
young boy on top of me, face-up. Hearing my wish for him to stretch
out, Chris placed his hands up on the pillow and his legs on either
side of mine. I could feel the heavy heat of his naked body covering
mine, and I heard him notice how fast my heart was beating beneath him
as I began stroking his bare flesh. My erection barely touched the
boy's bottom, resting on my lower stomach. Chris was proud that his
body could have such a profound effect on a grown man.
My fingertips traveled lightly over his spread-eagled form,
teasing his small titties, down his ribs and over his taut tummy and
hips, then onto his satiny thighs, running over his stiffened little
penis on the way back up. Our thoughts started running together,
becoming hard to separate as I continued massaging his soft, sensitive
skin: 'Tickles!' 'Love you.' 'Feels nice.' 'Don't stop.' 'So soft.'
'Love you too.' Both of us were purring with pleasure, and
occasionally a sigh or groan escaped our lungs. I could feel Chris's
breath quickening as I concentrated on his groin, rubbing his two tiny
eggs with the fingers of one hand and his rigid, unyielding penis with
the other. I reached over to the night stand where the jar of
Vaseline still sat from last night and put some of the gel on his
genitals, making him giggle and squirm with expectant delight.
'Tickles!' 'Should I stop?' 'No!' My right hand spread the greasy
goo all over his aroused little boy-parts, and I felt his buttocks
clamp together as his hips raised slightly, pushing his small member
demandingly against my fingers. Chris sighed with desire when my hand
went further down below, spreading his legs wider and raising them
slightly when I pressed against his puckered hole. My finger entered
him quite easily, and with my palm I gently pressed and rubbed the
young boy's delicate scrotum and balls. My other hand was having fun
with his nipples, able to stroke each sensitive, pointy tip on his
narrow chest at the same time. His body-heat increased as he writhed
on top of me, until sweat formed between our naked skins. I could
feel every single tremor, every wonderful shudder of his beautiful
body. I bent my head down and sucked on an ear-lobe, tickling it with
my tongue, and he whimpered with absolute rapture. I was an octopus,
striving to touch and pleasure him everywhere at once. It was my only
purpose in life. Chris was no longer thinking coherently; his
thoughts were a jumble of almost frantic joy and desire. I pulled my
finger out of his bottom and rubbed his oily little dick, the hard,
erect young organ slipping and sliding against my greasy palm. He
came soon thereafter. It was all I could do to hold myself back from
joining him as the orgasmic ten-year-old squealed and twisted, arching
his back with bliss on top of me, his mind filling mine with
starbursts of ecstasy.
("Had enough?") I thought to him as I felt his body deflate, his
ragged breathing slowly returning to normal.
("Uh-uh!") Chris replied emphatically. ("Do it again! But this
time use this instead of your finger.") He tilted a leg and reached
beneath his butt, grabbing hold of my hardened cock with his small
hand. Scooching down my body, he poked it at his little anus,
seemingly trying to impale himself.
("Whoa! Wait a minute!") my mind objected, needing to slow things
down a bit. The word 'insatiable' came to mind.
("What's insatiable mean?") his thoughts asked. I explained it
was someone who couldn't get enough of something, and his mind saw
humor in that. ("Yep, that's me!") He paused, then added
perceptively, ("But it's you too.") He was right. I couldn't get
enough of him either. I had to have him, and Chris wanted to be had.
I rolled us over and straddled his back, placing a pillow beneath
his narrow hips. Lovingly, I massaged the bare, warm skin of his
back, kneading the pliant muscles of the boy's shoulders and on down
his spine. Chris sighed heavily, his head resting on his arms,
obviously enjoying it as his body relaxed completely. I dipped two
fingers into the jar of Vaseline and lubed his virgin hole, and then
put a generous amount on my straining erection. Both our minds were
filled with nervous anticipation as Chris bent his knees, spreading
his legs as wide as possible.
("This is it,") I thought, about to deflower my second boy in as
many days.
("Do it,") he commanded, and I pushed the head of my dick against
his shiny, slick asshole. With our minds linked, I could hear if I
caused him any pain and how hard I should push, and I entered his body
even easier than I had Cory's. It was almost as if experiencing it
with us last night had prepared Chris so that he knew what to expect
and do when his turn came. I heard a wondrous, continuing moan
emanating from the boy's mind as my shaft slid freely up his tight,
incredibly hot tunnel for the very first time. Chris trembled beneath
me when I came to a stop, my cock buried inside him completely.
("It's BIG!") ("You alright?") ("It's okay.") ("I love you.") I'm
not sure who thought that last one, me or him. I fucked him slowly,
letting him get used to having me inside him. Whenever I pulled
partially out I could tell he felt empty, and wanted me to fill him
back up again. His slender legs and buttocks would strain with a a
lustful yearning as he pushed his bottom back to meet my inward
thrust. When Chris moved in the opposite direction, aiding my exit,
his small erection rubbed against the pillow, heightening his
pleasure. As for me, my second time inside a young boy's body was no
less intense than the first. Once again I marveled at the near
100-degree body-heat surrounding my penis in a tight, wonderfully
moist tunnel of living tissue. Every tremble of the boy was felt by
me, his small shudders and movements transferred directly onto my
shaft. It was an incredibly erotic experience, almost as if his body
were a continuation of my own. Our minds sang a passionate harmony
together, building in a crescendo as we soared to the ultimate height,
then dissolved into a chaotic tumult when we reached the climax of our
love. Crying out with triumphant joy, mindless to all but our bodies'
pleasure, Chris and I came as one. The only rational thought in our
minds was ("I LOVE YOU!") as we both felt my sperm pumping inside his
bottom, each pulsating throb of my penis being echoed by the
youngster's own wonderful orgasm.
I felt so weak that I almost collapsed on top of the boy, but at
the last minute he straightened his legs and we rolled onto our sides
together, still intimately joined. I wrapped my arms around him in a
gentle hug, feeling his labored breathing slowly return to normal.
Our minds were still linked, and I silently asked Chris if he was
alright.
("Little sore,") his thoughts answered honestly before he could
stop them. I instantly felt chagrin. Our reckless, sexual abandon
had hurt one of the boys I loved more than life itself. I started to
pull my flaccid penis out of his bottom, feeling so bad that I broke
his rule and apologized for hurting him out loud. ("No! I'm ok,
really!") Chris declared emphatically in my head. ("Leave it inside,
ok? I like how it feels.") He snuggled his posterior against me,
making sure I didn't disobey him. ("It's just a little sore is all.
You...You can do it again if you want,") he added suggestively.
We might have done just that but right then we heard the front
door slam. Several seconds later Cory was leering at the two naked
bodies laying together like a couple of spoons in a drawer. "How was
it?" asked the youngster with a knowing smile.
"Awesome," Chris and I answered together. Chris craned his neck
to look at me with a grin, and we both exploded with a fit of giggles.
I couldn't think of any other word that would describe it better
though.
"Hey, you gave him a hickey!" Cory accused his twin, noticing the
small bruise on my neck for the first time and sounding slightly
jealous that he hadn't thought of it first. Chris smiled smugly at
his brother. If I let the two scamps have their way with me they'd
probably have a competition to see who could give me the most, until
my body was one big, purple love-bite. An intriguing thought, I must
say.
"You wanna do me again?" Cory asked with a coy look. Chris argued
that it was still his turn, and I heard myself groaning at what I'd
gone and done. I had created two identical, maddeningly sensual,
sex-hungry, ten-year-old boys who thought I could fuck them all day
and all night and live to tell about it. What a way to go though.
"You guys are gonna be the death of me before I make 35," I told
them wryly, slipping myself out of Chris's heinie and sitting up. The
twins gave me their patented looks of confused innocence, which meant,
"Who, us??"
"It's not our fault you're an old fart," Cory replied with typical
wit, smirking and watching me warily for any sudden moves. The boy
was too far away for me to go after though, and I didn't feel like
chasing him naked through the house. Now, if HE were naked that would
be different, of course.
Suddenly Cory's face turned serious. "Mom knows," he declared
simply. He didn't have to explain. I knew what he meant. Cory went
on to say that his bottom had been a bit tender today and Susan had
asked what was wrong. She had an uncanny intuition, which was
probably where the boys had inherited their "sixth sense" from.
Rather than lie Cory had told her the truth. "She made me drop my
pants so she could see if I was hurt," Cory added. I felt a knot of
apprehension growing in the pit of my stomach. "She was really mad,
Tom," the boy went on, looking at me with a worried expression. "Mom
said she never meant you could do something like that, and she said
she might even call the police." Cory's brow furrowed with concern.
"They can't do anything to you, can they? I mean, it was our idea and
all."
At the word "police", the knot in my stomach tightened into a
nauseous lump, filling me with a terrible dread. I felt my face go
pale in absolute terror. I'd gone too far. Susan might have been
willing to let her sons enjoy a little sex-play with a loving adult,
but now we were talking about anal-intercourse. Cory was naive in
thinking their consent would mean anything. My career was over. My
LIFE was over. Jail was a certainty. And Cory had wanted to do it
again?? I raised my head to look at him, and his face was covered in
a big, ear-to-ear grin.
"GOTCHA!!" he yelled triumphantly. Cory shrieked with laughter as
I held my head in my hands and groaned with a mixture of tremendous
relief and an overwhelming need for retribution.
"You little shit," was all I could get out, grinning in spite of
my desire to throttle him. Cory laughed even harder at getting me to
swear, a rare accomplishment indeed. He taunted me further by swaying
his hips from side-to-side, and yelling "Gotcha, gotcha, gotcha," in a
sing-song voice. It was too much. I lunged off the bed, but his
10-year-old reflexes were expecting that as he led me on a merry chase
through the house, skipping and laughing just out of my reach. We
ended up in the living-room, staring at each-other from opposite ends
of the couch, both of us smiling and panting.
"I told you I'd get you back for last night," Cory grinned at me
in defiance. "You were ready to run for the border," he added with a
delighted chortle. I climbed over the couch and he had to detour down
the hall, until I had him cornered by the entrance-way. Cory looked
slightly worried for a moment as I advanced slowly upon him, then he
realized he had the door behind him. Before you could say "young
rascal" he was outside and the door slammed behind him. It was either
give-up or chase him through the neighborhood in the nude, and get
arrested for streaking. Damn little bugger, I thought to myself with
grudging admiration. I'd been thwarted once again by a ten-year-old.
I heard a small chuckle somewhere behind me and turned slowly
around to see Chris standing there, still naked and covering his mouth
to keep from laughing out-loud. Apparently he'd found the whole scene
rather humorous. I still had another option left to me it seemed. I
gave him a long, speculative look. "Hey, don't look at me like that,"
he said, now appearing a bit nervous. "I didn't have anything to do
with it."
I didn't really care. If I couldn't catch Cory I'd settle for
Chris. They looked the same, after all. I took a small step towards
him and he backed up, holding his hands out in front of him. "Don't
even think about it," said Chris, backing up another step, his wide
eyes watching me warily as I DID think about it. I leaped at him and
he screamed with mock terror, running down the hall towards my
bedroom. How convenient, I thought to myself.
A flying pillow caught me in the head when I came through the
door, and the naked boy held the other one cocked in his arm, ready to
fire. He was standing on the bed, watching for my next move with
eager anticipation, and a big grin on his face at drawing "first
blood". I picked up the pillow he'd thrown and advanced on him. We
swung at the same time, catching each-other up-side-the-head, as it
were, and then it was a free-for-all, every man (or boy) for himself.
Chris fought valiantly, but he was laughing and giggling so hard that
he couldn't put much into it. Finally I knocked him flat on his back
and pinned him to the bed with an arm and a leg. With a 'never say
die' attitude he stuck his tongue out at me. My free hand poked and
tickled the nude youngster, eliciting squeals of squirming laughter
until finally I let him calm down and simply stroked his bare skin. I
let his arms and legs go and pulled him on top of me, belly-to-belly.
"You're mean," he accused, his pouting lips an inch away from mine
as he stared at me. A smile hid behind the words, and I knew he
wasn't really angry at me for picking on him when it was Cory who had
fooled me. Chris was having as much fun as I was, as usual. I pecked
his lips with mine and he made a disgusted face, wiping his mouth with
the back of a hand. Then he kissed me back.
Boys. You gotta love 'em.
CHAPTER 9
Cory hadn't been lying when he had said that Susan knew what we'd
done. That night, after the boys were in bed she called me over for a
cup of coffee, something we did fairly often at either my place or
her's.
"You didn't waste any time," she said with just a trace of
resentment, referring to the loss of her sons' virginity. I didn't
know what to say. Whether it had been the twins' idea or mine to go
all the way didn't matter. I didn't have to agree to it. Susan
sighed with a trace of melancholy. "I'm not really mad at you Tom,"
she said. "It's just that they seem to be growing up so fast. While
it's hard for me to believe they really enjoyed it...what you
did...they SAY they liked it. And I could tell if they were lying."
I'm sure she noticed the hickey Chris had given me, but I think she
was afraid to ask which boy had done it to me. She got up and
beckoned me to follow. We stopped outside the twins' room, and she
pushed the door open so I could see inside.
At first I didn't notice anything unusual. Just Cory and Chris,
sound asleep in their beds, appearing even more beautiful and pure in
slumber. Then it hit me: In their beds. Plural. Cory was in the top
bunk, and Chris was underneath. I looked at Susan questioningly, but
she held a finger to her lips and quietly shut the door.
"Did they have a fight or something?" I asked her when we were
back in the kitchen. It seemed inconceivable for the two brothers to
go to sleep angry at each-other, but I couldn't think of anything
else.
"That's what I thought too," Susan said with a look of wonder,
"but when I asked them if something was wrong Cory said, 'No Mom,
we're not babies anymore you know.'" She shook her head, obviously
unsure of what exactly had happened. I wasn't sure either. When the
boys were still in diapers they had put up such a fuss whenever Susan
had tried to separate them for bed that finally she had just given up.
When their father left it had been even worse. Cory and Chris slept
in each-other's arms, sometimes even sucking a brother's thumb in a
desperate attempt to find an anchor they could rely on in a terrifying
world of confusing thoughts and emotions.
"They're changing, Tom," Susan began haltingly, "and it's because
of you. Chris used to be so shy he hardly ever talked to anyone. Now
I can't get him to shut up. And Cory, he's doing much better in
school, and he's not nearly as rambunctious as he used to be." That
last point was arguable, but I let it slide. She looked off in the
direction of their room, where the twins slept in separate beds, and
shook her head in amazement once again. "Now this," she said softly.
The great author still didn't know what to say. I wasn't doing
anything special to Chris and Cory, and I certainly wasn't trying to
change them. Even if it was for the better. All I was doing was
loving them. Their mother reached the same conclusion. "It's...It's
hard for me to approve of what you and the boys did, but I know you
didn't hurt them, and it was as much for yourself as it was for them."
Susan's face suddenly hardened with determination. "I need to know,
Tom, are you going to just drop them when they get older? I mean,
they're not gonna be young boys forever. They're going to grow up,
and grow hair where you don't want it." Her bluntness made me squirm,
but I knew where she was leading. "Because if you are, we're better
off stopping everything right now. You'll be no better than their
father was."
She was right. Relationships between a man and boy (or boys) were
by nature temporary, at least in the sexual-attraction department.
Boys grew up eventually, becoming men, and an integral part of the
relationship would be gone forever. It's not something I liked to
think about, but I couldn't avoid the inevitable. Love could still
survive however, or at the very least a deep friendship. After all,
sex wasn't the only reason I loved Cory and Chris, it was only one
part of the 'big picture'.
"No, I'm not going to just leave them," I told her honestly.
"Sure, they're going to grow up, and when they're teens they probably
won't be interested in fooling around with me either. They'll find
girlfriends, and this may sound presumptuous but I hope that by having
been loved by and loving me they'll be better prepared for marriage
and sex later on." Susan considered this and then nodded, seeming to
agree with me. "We'll all change, but I'm not just going to ignore
them when they get older. I'll still be here, and we'll all still be
very good friends, I hope." This wasn't just wishful thinking on my
part either. I had read several true accounts of other boy-lovers,
about how the boy grew into a man and still thought of his former
lover as a dear and very close friend, long after they had ceased to
have sex. In some ways, the love between the man and former boy
became like that shared by an elderly couple; the fire and passion
might be gone, but love was still there. (And no, I'm NOT saying that
elderly people never have sex.)
Susan looked relieved and satisfied with my answer, and I added,
"Besides, maybe I could learn to like a bit of body-hair."
She laughed and gave me an exasperated look. "You're
incorrigible," she declared with a grin. No arguments there.
***
I was not having a good day. First, there was a short
power-outage and my computer had crashed, taking everything I'd
written for the book in the last hour with it. Add to that the fact
that I felt a cold coming on, and I was feeling rather irritable when
the boys burst through the door after school. For the last couple of
days they had cast aside any preamble to having sex; they just started
peeling off their clothes and jumped on me in a naked tangle of
boy-limbs. Today was no exception.
I gave them a sour look when they began unbuttoning their shirts.
"Good grief," I said waspishly, "don't you two ever get tired of
having sex?" (There. Let the self-proclaimed sex-abuse 'experts'
ponder that for a while.)
Cory's eyes widened with surprise, and Chris's eyebrows furrowed
in hurt confusion. Dammit. Why was I taking it out on them? "I'm
sorry guys," I sighed in apology. "I didn't mean to snap at you."
"Bad day, huh?" Cory asked with a concerned look.
Chris came over and sat on my lap, wrapping his thin arms around
my neck in a warm, tight hug. "It's okay, Tom," he said, snuggling
his head on my shoulder. "I love you even when you're cranky." I
chuckled as I hugged him back. Holding the young boy in a cuddly,
comfy embrace did wonders for my mood. I could have stayed like that
for hours. Cory seemed to have other ideas, however.
"Take off your shirt," he ordered me.
"Cory, I really don't feel like--"
"Just do it, okay?" he pleaded. With a sigh I disentangled myself
from Chris, and pulled off my sweatshirt. I looked at Cory
resignedly, figuring he wanted to fool around or something. I really
wasn't in the mood though, which he should have been able to sense.
"Now lay down on the couch, on your stomach," he continued. I
hesitated, feeling rather stubborn about it, and he gave me a
determined look. He wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer, it
seemed. I did as he said, stretching out on the couch with my arms
wrapped around a pillow. I felt Cory straddle my back and sit on my
butt, and then with some surprise I felt his hands start kneading my
shoulders and neck. Stupid me. He wanted to give me a massage, not
have sex. Gosh they were wonderful boys, I thought to myself for the
thousandth time, in spite of their occasional attacks on my sanity.
"You're really tense," Cory observed, expertly rubbing and
massaging my back with his soft, warm hands. As usual, Cory knew
exactly how to make me feel good, concentrating his efforts on my neck
and shoulders until the tightness left and I was so relaxed I
occasionally sighed with a drowsy feeling of pleasure.
"He's falling asleep," I heard Chris say from somewhere around the
vicinity of the computer. Soon thereafter, I did just that.
***
In the couple of weeks since their birthday, I had been watching
the twins closely for any other signs of changes. In spite of Cory's
declaration that they "weren't babies anymore," they still sometimes
slept together in the same bed, and other times slept apart.
Apparently old habits were hard to break. In a way I was glad,
actually. I didn't want to think that I was somehow separating them.
Cory and Chris were starting to go their own ways, though. They
had never been identical, personality-wise, and since I had entered
their lives they no longer had to lean solely on each-other for
comfort and support. Now they could share their hopes and fears with
me. And share me they did. This was most apparent when one of them
wanted to 'do it' (their expression for getting fucked). Both boys
enjoyed it as much as I did, but strangely enough when one wanted to
do it the other one would leave us alone to our own devices. Then a
few days later when the other twin wanted the same action, his brother
would go away until we finished. I think they were testing the
waters, so-to-speak; each boy was learning to love someone on his own
terms, without having his twin present to get in the way and
complicate things. If I had any doubts about their love for
each-other, they were put to rest on Saturday nights. Sometimes our
passion carried us away and I ended up fucking both of them, but
usually we would only make love with our hands and mouths. More
importantly, they made love to each-other. Cory and Chris would
always be extremely close, but they knew their lives would eventually
lead down separate paths, and I was their first step in that
direction.
CHAPTER 10
I was going Trick-Or-Treating. Here I was, dressed in an
ostentatious, flowing blue robe covered in stars and half-moons that
no self-respecting wizard or sorcerer would be caught dead in, about
to parade through the neighborhood with a vampire (Chris) and a boy
with a small axe embedded in his cranium (Cory). I even had a tall,
pointy hat that was slightly bent at the tip. Long, shoulder-length
white hair from a wig gave me a smidgen of respectability, I suppose.
The twins thought I was the funniest thing they'd ever seen, laughing
derisively until I petulantly declared I was going to stay home.
"No Tom! You promised!" said the pale one with haunted looking
eyes and blood-red lips, dressed in a black tuxedo and white, ruffled
shirt, his hair slicked straight back with gel and wearing fangs. A
black cape fastened at his throat completed the ensemble.
"You look great!" added the youngster with the hatchet in his
head, fake blood oozing wetly from the realistic-looking wound and
splattered generously over his face and clothes. Chris looked kind of
cute (he could have given me another love-bite anytime), but Cory was
downright gruesome. Susan had done a good job with the costumes we
had rented from the local Halloween shop a few days before. She was
wearing a Catwoman outfit.
"Yeah Tom," Susan said behind her hand, where she was trying to
hold in a chuckle, "you can't back out now. I need you to go with
them so I can get to the hospital and get things started over there."
The hospital where she worked was having a party for employees and
some of the patients, and I was to bring the boys there later. "Let
me get a camera so I can take a picture of the three of you," she
added. Maybe she wanted to blackmail me sometime in the future with
it, I thought to myself regretfully. Chris snickered at that; I could
never think anything to myself when he was around.
After we had taken pictures of all the possible permutations of
the four of us, the twins and I set out on a mission to deplenish the
countryside of all available sweets. I drew the line at actually
carrying a bag and saying "Trick-Or-Treat", but nevertheless a few
neighbors gave an extra piece of candy to one of the boys for "the
wizard back there."
Okay, I admit it. I was having fun. It was a beautiful Autumn
evening, the sky a crystal-clear, deep, dark blue as the sun neared
the horizon, and Cory and Chris skipped along gaily from door-to-door
collecting treats, occasionally pulling me onward by the hand. There
were dozens of little goblins and other assorted ghouls out-and-about;
super-heroes, cartoon-characters and pirates were our companions. It
was the ultimate kids' holiday, a costumed combination of Christmas
and birthdays.
After we'd traversed I-don't-know-how-many-blocks, Cory and Chris
were having trouble carrying their treasure. The sun had gone down an
hour ago, and it was time to join their mom. The party at the
hospital was okay, but there weren't a whole lot of kids around. The
twins quickly got bored and somewhat cranky, as young boys tend to do
rather easily. Susan had to work the night-shift, and since we'd
already arranged for the two brothers to spend the night with me
anyway I suggested the three of us go looking for a haunted-house.
Susan gave her okay, but insisted that we didn't stay out too late
since it was a school-night. We readily agreed to her terms, but I
think she knew she was wasting her time.
I checked a newspaper and found a fairly large haunted-house
within an hour's drive, and the boys and I took off on another
adventure. We had to wait in line for almost two hours when we got
there, but finally, after paying the admission price, we were inside.
I'd psyched the twins up while we had been waiting, telling them scary
stories about roaming spirits, gory druidic rituals and the terrors
that were set loose on Allhallows Eve, and now a small, timid vampire
was hunkered down alongside me, clutching my wizard's robe and my hand
in a death-grip.
"There's nothing to be afraid of," Cory told his brother with all
the bravado a ten-year-old can muster. "Nothing's real in here." I
didn't ask why he was holding my other hand. Rather tightly, in fact.
I also didn't tell him that there were actors undoubtedly hiding
inside.
It was pitch-dark in here; as we stumbled blindly through a maze
of narrow, twisting corridors, eerie music with an occasional howl or
scream thrown in added the proper ambience. We could feel what were
supposed to be rat's tails or snakes brushing our feet, and
cobweb-like strings hung from the ceiling, tickling our faces.
There's nothing like a total, complete absence of light to send a
primal chill through one's soul; especially a young soul, say about
ten-years-old. I let loose p, demented laugh. It felt so good I did
it again.
"Cut it out Tom," I heard Chris's voice shaking nervously from
somewhere near my elbow. There must be some macho, deep-seated need
for a guy to scare those who are smaller than he is --be it a wife or
girl-friend, or a little kid-- because I did it again. One of the
boys elbowed me roughly in the gut, and I finally quit. Spoilsports.
We came upon a dimly lit laboratory scene of various medical
horrors, and a rather ghastly looking fellow --who looked like he'd
been through a botched open-heart surgery-- noticed all the fake blood
on Cory. "Perhaps the young boy would like to join us for some
experiments," the cadaverous gentleman asked in a hollow voice. He
grabbed Cory's free hand and pulled him insistently towards an
examining-table in the center of the room. Cory squealed and held on
to me for dear-life, until he was released. So much for bravado. For
a tempting second I had almost let him go, just to see the look of
shocked betrayal on his face, but I couldn't do it. Even I'm not that
cruel.
We moved into another darkened passage, and now both boys were
pushing me along in front of them. I guess they were willing to
sacrifice me to save themselves. Their plan didn't work though. As
we came into another gloomy scenario of blood and guts Frankenstein's
Monster grabbed them from behind with a menacing bellow. The two
ten-year-olds almost knocked me over in their rush to place me between
the monstrosity and themselves, and their eyes were wild with
borderline terror as they screamed in surprise mixed with
boyish-delight. Boys enjoy a good scare now-and-then, as long as they
know they can't REALLY be hurt. And I certainly didn't mind them
hanging on to me with all their might, expecting me to protect them.
If you've never taken a boy to a haunted-house, I highly recommend it.
We made it to the end without any further mishap. It had
certainly been a good time. So good in fact that Cory wanted to go
through it again, but it was getting late. It had been a long,
delightfully scary evening for my young ghoul-friends (sorry, couldn't
resist), and both boys fell asleep on the way home.
I managed to steer them inside my house, where I sat on the couch
and began undressing Chris, taking off his cape and jacket. Cory had
pulled the hatchet off his head earlier, so all he had left was blood.
It felt good to get out of my robe as well. I was tired, but the two
boys seemed to have gotten their second-wind when they remembered all
that candy they had collected. I let them have a few pieces (and I
had some too, I'll admit), and then they looked at each-other
silently, obviously talking between themselves. I hated it when they
did that; invariably it meant the two scamps were up to something, and
it usually involved me. Chris nodded at his twin and then told me he
had to go home for something. I looked at him suspiciously, but let
him go. While he was gone Cory asked if I had a candle. What in the
world...?
Cory was placing the candle in a holder on my coffee-table when
Chris returned. Taking a match, Cory carefully lit the candle. Chris
went through my house turning off all the lights, until all we had
left was the tiny, flickering flame. Silently, the two boys sat on
their legs on one side of the low table, and beckoned me to sit
opposite them. Then they pulled off their shirts, and looked at me
pointedly until I did the same. What were they up to, I wondered.
Chris took three short pieces of string from his pocket, and laid
these together on the table. I could see they were friendship
bracelets, the kind that kids made and traded with their friends.
Each narrow cord was tightly braided with three colors; two shades of
blue (light and dark) and one of bright
red. Understanding dawned on me.
"Hey, when did you make--"
Cory and Chris shushed me with shocked looks, as if I were
interrupting a church-service. For that's what they were about to
perform: a ritual of naively innocent boyhood, made all the more
sacred as we neared the magical witching-hour on Allhallows Eve.
Mesmerized, I watched Cory take the ends of the three bracelets
and hold them several inches over the candle. Then he chanted in his
soft voice:
"Through the fire,
we pass these chains,
3 strings are one,
sealed by flame."
Cory quickly passed them three times through the fire, fast enough
so they wouldn't scorch. Then he took one of the cords and tied it
loosely in a double knot on Chris's left wrist, and silently offered
him the remaining two pieces. Following his brother's lead, Chris
held the colored strings above the fire, and thought for a moment
before intoning:
"By flame of candle,
this spell is cast,
2 brothers are now 3,
our love will last."
I was totally captivated. I watched with fascination as Chris
passed them twice through the candle, and then tied one of the strings
around my wrist. The two boys were so serious and solemn, and their
ghoulish makeup made them look rather eerie in the yellow, dancing
flame of the candle. They were other-worldly, young warlocks
practicing bare-chested, high-sorcery on Halloween night, and I was
there charmed disciple. The analogy of boy-love as a religion struck
me once again. Then I realized Chris was holding the remaining cord
out to me. I was expected to contribute to the ritual as well.
Cory and Chris watched me critically as I took the small cord and
held it over the candle as they had done, and gathered my thoughts.
We had all had lots of practice with spells, actually. The boys were
quite adept at coming up with rhymes for the book. Everyone knows the
most powerful incantations have to rhyme. Just watch "Bewitched".
"Through the fire,
I pass this bracelet,
tied in friendship,
and nothing shall break it."
Chris allowed a small smile of approval to cross his face as he
watched me pass it once through the flame and tie it around his
brother's wrist. Then, almost reverently, my very special friends
linked the little-fingers of their right hands together in their
double-promise, and silently looked at me until I wrapped my pinkie
around their's. I was deeply moved by this special gift. I felt
myself shiver as goose-flesh broke out on my skin, almost as if there
truly was magic in the air. The boys felt it as well; I could see how
their small, tender nipples had become even tinier, surrounded by
goose-bumps in the wavering candlelight.
The ceremony now over, Cory and Chris beamed happily at me. The
reader might like to think that what followed was a wild bacchanalia
of boy-sex, culminating in the ultimate expression of love, but it was
a school-night. I led the two sleepy sorcerers to the bathroom and
washed off as much of their makeup as possible, and then I lovingly
undressed them the rest of the way. Naked, the three of us slept in a
tangle of blissful contentment, covering each-other with a blanket of
love and friendship.
***
I finished our book a few weeks later. Just before I sent it to
my agent though, I added several very important lines at the very
beginning, and promptly forced myself to forget about it. After he
read it he said it was my best book yet, and suggested we re-negotiate
my contract with the publisher. In fact he thought the book could
cross genres into the sci-fi/fantasy market, which was fine with me as
long as it was still marketed primarily as a kid's book. My loyalties
would always be with boys, after all. When my publisher read it, and
after a few more weeks of wrangling, I signed a contract for an
outrageous sum of money agreeing to write at least two more books
about the supposedly fictitious twins. I didn't think that would be a
problem, since it was my favorite subject. I felt I had to share the
wealth with the boys though, so for a Christmas present (one of many,
needless to say) I had my agent draw up a contract splitting the
royalties three ways. A separate the arbitrarily-magic age of
eighteen Cory and Chris would have more than enough money for college
or whatever else they wanted to do. Susan nearly cried when I told
her what I had done, she was so grateful. The twins, of course,
wanted the money now. I laughed fondly at their plans for buying
airplanes and race-cars, or candy factories and arcades.
The book was published in February, and when my copies arrived the
boys were still at school. We had already started on the next story
in the series, but we had all been waiting anxiously for this one.
When Chris contacted me he immediately picked up that it was here at
last.
("You've got the book?") I heard his excited voice say in my head.
He caught me off-guard, and I was afraid he'd pick up more than I
wanted him too. I started singing a Beatles' song, hoping to block
him out. ("Hey, what are you trying to hide?") he accused. His
curiosity aroused, I knew he wouldn't give up easily. I sang louder.
("Tom! Hey, cut it out!")
"Chris, pleeease don't," I begged him. "It means a lot to me and
I don't want you to ruin it. You'll find out when you get home." I
started singing again, but I knew he could get what he wanted if he
really concentrated.
("Oh alright,") I heard him pout. ("See you later, I guess.") I
had no way of knowing if he'd really left my head. I dove into our
sequel, hoping to put my mind on other things, in case the
inquisitive, telepathic young boy came back for another assault. I
thought about the tour my publisher wanted me to take to promote the
book. If I went over spring-break, perhaps Susan would let the twins
come along.
The next attack was when Cory and Chris practically tore down my
front-door after school. Chris had told his twin and both boys were
bubbling over with impatience as they pulled off their winter coats
and rushed me. "Let's see it!" Cory yelled. "Yeah, where is it?"
Chris demanded, still wondering what I had up my sleeve.
I sat on the couch and pulled out a small, gift-wrapped object.
It was the book of course. I wasn't fooling anybody; I just thought
wrapping it would be a nice touch. The boys sat down on my right and
grabbed it unceremoniously from my hands. Cory ripped off the paper
and stared at the cover.
"'Double Trouble'," he said with a smile, reading the title
out-loud. The drawing on the front was the three of us, dressed in
clothes that fit the story. What possessed me to use the picture
Susan had taken of me on Halloween I'll never know.
"Hey, it's us!" Chris exclaimed. "Cool!"
"It's my author's copy," I told the two boys, "the very first one
off the press. I want you guys to have it."
Cory and Chris looked at me gratefully, but they both sensed that
there was something else. Chris finally grabbed the thought from my
head. He sucked in his breath with surprise, and quickly told his
brother to open the book and look inside. Past all the copyright
info, on an otherwise blank page, I saw their eyes widen as they
stared at six simple, short lines. Their jaws dropped open with
identical looks of stunned disbelief while they re-read it several
times. Finally Cory found his voice, but it shook a little. "D-Does
it say this in all of them?" he asked in wondering amazement.
I could only nod as I smiled at them. Their reactions were
everything I'd hoped for. I was almost overwhelmed as I felt my love
for the two beautiful, special young boys pouring out of my soul, and
they both felt it as strongly as I did. Our eyes threatened to start
leaking. Suddenly the twins threw their arms around me, hugging me in
a tight, fierce embrace as I hugged them back. Nothing more needed to
be said; our love spoke volumes. It's the most excellent language
there is.
For Cory and Chris;
twin beams of sunlight
and happiness shining
brightly in my grateful
heart. I love you both,
forever.
********* T H E E N D *********
*********