Date: Sat, 19 Dec 2015 18:06:49 +0000 (UTC)
From: kevin Donovan <letsgonaked2000@yahoo.com>
Subject: Terry and Jerry, gay male incest, part 1

The following is an original piece of gay erotic fiction which involves
graphic sex acts between consenting, adult males, some of whom happen to be
identical twins.  If you are a legal adult who wishes to read such
material, enjoy.  If not, go away.  This story is the property of the
author and may not be copied for reproduction or distribution in any form
without the author's expr3ss and written permission.

Please contribute to Nifty so that this and thousands of other such works
may be preserved and savored.


TERRY AND JERRY
by Kevin Donovan

Your comments are welcome at letsgonaked2000@yahoo.com

ONE:  PLANET XENO



	Well, fuck me.

	My plan could not have backfired more completely, or so I thought.

	We'd only been living in this town since mid-summer, and I was only
in this large high school's senior class for a couple of months.  Most of
the soccer team had known and played with each other for years, and I was
the new guy.  Also the new "gay:" though I had made no general
announcement, there were people who knew I was queer, a couple of whom I
had dated and sucked off.  They did have a Gay-Straight Alliance chapter,
and I was in it, along with a whole bunch of "progressive" straight guys
and girls.  But a sports team is a delicate matter, due to all the
locker-room nudity and frivolity, and the sheer testosterone.

	I had deliberately waited until I figured all, or almost all, of
the guys had showered after soccer practice who were going to, and I could
have the Tiled Temple of Temptation all to myself, without fear of
sprouting wood before all-judging eyes. I knew Jerry and Terry, the
celebrated Menlo twins, generally did shower, but they generally went in
early, with their popular, team-leader buds.  (I knew everything the
Magnificent Menlos generally did--sports writer's term, not mine.  It was
enough for me to see their lean, tanned hides while changing clothes in the
locker room; I could never have survived it, both of them, naked and
glistening in shower spray, soap suds sliding over sleek, sun-kissed skin,
if I had to shower with them in there.  Plus, they hung out with the very
buffest guys on the team.)  If they had been in the shower today, I had
missed them--and I did not generally miss them--but if they had not, I
assumed they had other plans today, maybe a reason to rush home unwashed.
The other studs had showered and left.  So there I was, just me on one
side, and Craig Hostetler, a classmate I had actually hung out with some,
with buck teeth, a two-inch dick, and a goofy manner, and Sean Cannady, a
scrawny sophomore, who showed no evidence of even having a dick, on the
other side-- me naked, wet, soapy, and unprepared.  One twin, I had no idea
which, for they were truly identical in every way, sauntered in, towel on
shoulder, not decently wrapped around waist, hung up the towel, and
proceeded, six inches of dick swinging, to the shower head--with a dozen
other shower heads standing vacant, just hoping the stud would come to
them--right next to mine.  Right next to mine!

	I stuck my head under the water to hide for a while, inwardly
chanting algebraic formulas to my dick to keep it bored and inattentive.
Not working.  I could see the twin's long, lean, lightly haired legs and
his long, lean, manly, futbol-champ feet right next to my own size nines.
I should trim my toenails this afternoon.  His didn't need it. My dick
twinged, and began to puff up a little.

	"Hey, Branson."

	Oh, God, he spoke to me.  Even used my full name.  He--they--had
kind of husky baritone voices.  Very sexy.  Actually, the Menlos also had
musical talents, both singing in the school honor choir and both playing
guitar.  They were the "both" type of identical twins, neither seeming to
have much of an independent life.  I raised my head up out of the shower
spray and squinted at the speaker.  Oh, God.  The face of--I don't know,
too sexy and handsome for a saint, maybe the devil.  The one with "blue
eyes and blue jeans."  God, that was an old one--why do I even listen to
that oldie shit?  For quotes like that one, that's why.

	"Hey.  Jerry?"

	A laugh.  "No, Terry.  It's OK, everyone does it."

	"Fifty-fifty chance.  I should stay away from Blackjack."

	"No, stand behind me while I play, for luck."

	Fuck, what did that mean?  My dick thought it knew, and throbbed.

	"I don't seem to see you with anybody."

	Well, he got me there.  I had friends, sure, a few, OK for such a
short time in this school, but I never pressed myself on anyone.  Since I
came out to my family and select others as gay two years ago, knowing how
word spreads, but uncertain how it might always be received, I had
become--well, restrained.  I tended to wait for others to approach me.
Fear of rejection, I suppose.  In addition to a few recent dates and blow
jobs, I was three years out from virginity, but I had never attached myself
to anyone for long.  Damn picky, I guess.

	"I seem to see you with...just about everybody."

	"I'm pretty sociable.  It's lonely, though."

	I peered at the guy through water-drops.  The handsome face before
me, kind of Scandinavian-looking, with thick, dark honey-blond hair, long
nose, devil-blue eyes, and orthodontically perfect teeth looked totally
sincere.  I would buy whatever this guy was selling.

	He cut to the chase.  "I was wondering if you were busy this Friday
night.  Or some other night, if you are busy then, I know it's short
notice.  To go to a movie or something.  Whatever."

	O.K.  At some point, I had been transported into a parallel galaxy
where fantasy and improbable reality meet.  On planet earth, this could not
be happening.  But here, on planet Xeno or whatever, I can be asked out on
a fuckin' DATE by fuckin' TERRY MENLO in the fuckin' SHOWER, after fuckin'
SOCCER practice, with both of us FUCKIN' SLAP-ASS NAKED!  I wanted never to
leave this planet.

	"You there?  I'm not wrong, am I, I sure hope I haven't fucked this
up."

	"Oh, yeah, sorry, soap in my eyes. No, uh, I'm OK, I mean, you're
OK.  Um--sure, Friday is good.  Movie?"

	Our team had its matches on Thursday nights, and we had no practice
on Fridays.  But this particular Thursday night was a bye night for us.

	He let out a sigh.  So this was not as easy for him as I assumed it
would be for divine beings.  "Oh, good.  Say, five, and get some dinner
before, too?  I can pick you up, unless you'd rather meet someplace."

	"No, you can pick me up, my parents are cool.  Five is cool."
Early, but WTF.  This was Terry Fuckin' Menlo here.

	I now realized Terry had been casually soaping himself during most
of this exchange, as if just innocently showering.  I also noticed that
Craig had left the shower, while Sean was gawking at us openly, while
obviously trying not to, but failing dismally.  If he had a hard-on, I
couldn't see it.  God, I hoped that guy would grow a dick: he was obviously
One of Us, and he would never make it in the gay world with that wienie of
his.  An ass would help, too.

	"Um, what do you think, could you maybe plan to stay over?"

	Could I ever!  This is the number one advantage to gay dating.  How
many high school girls' parents would let their daughter stay overnight
with a dude on a first date, and what kind of a tramp would she be at
school if she did it?  But for two guys, it was no big deal to sleep over
together.

	But I paused. Then, I thought, 'If I'm now on Planet Xeno, then why
not go for the whole enchilada?'

	"Don' t you and Jerry room together?"

	Terry smiled.  "Yeah, but we'll be out at our Nana's old place,
just you and me.  Out in Crestwood.  So it's easier, I mean we have more
time out there, if we don't have to drive right back in for a curfew.  In
fact, I'd like to go to that movie theater out there, if you don't
mind--I'm not "out" here, at all, trying to make it through to graduation.
Then, in college, I'll take the plunge. That's why I said "five," we have a
longer drive."

	"Oh.... Well, I don't actually have a curfew.  Much worse: I have
extremely inquisitive parents who check up on me all the time and want to
know where I am and who with every minute.  But if they know I'm with you,
they'll butt out.  Nana's?"


	"She died last April.  Left it to me and Jer.  We plan to move in
after graduation, after the estate gets settled, and live there through
University.  It's way closer than here, and since we own it, we can live
there on our own.  Where you goin', next year?"

	"Me, too, University.  No dead Nana here, though, gotta live in the
dorm, I guess."

	"Oh.  Cool."

	"Sorry about your Nana, though."

	Terry finished rinsing quickly and gave me his most dazzling,
dick-stiffening smile.

	"Thanks.  See you Friday.  And--around, OK?"

	He retrieved his towel, stepped into the outer drying area, and
began to towel off.  Oh, fuck, how his semi-soft dick flopped back and
forth.  It was pure art.  The reality of what had transpired began to set
in, and my cock turned to granite.  Very large, impressive granite.  Thank
God I'm no Sean Canady.  I still had to wash myself, and besides, I did not
feel capable of walking yet.  And then, my balance seemed thrown off by my
raging, throbbing boner, probably the hugest I'd ever thrown.  Sean got his
eyes full, just standing there, entranced, under the water spray.
Eventually, I turned off the faucet and strode to my own towel, on the hook
by the door, right past Sean's grinning face.  He opened his mouth as if to
speak.

	"Shut up."  I growled.  And I meant it.  Sean's jaw snapped shut
and he tried to make a blank facial expression, while yet drooling.  But
the little shit was still grinning.

* * * * *


	I told my dad about my plans for Friday night.  He was my ally in
the gay dating department.  My mom was all fluttery about it, scared of
everything, and trying to put a brick on my head to keep me from growing
up.  Dad--he thought I should go for the full, single-guy experience and
enjoy my youth, but safely.  I think he secretly envied me, thinking my
life was all one big fuck-fest with hot, teen jocks.  Now that I was living
on Planet Xeno, I hoped, maybe that could be true!

	"THE Terry Menlow?" he asked.  His eyebrows went up.  "Of sports
page fame?"

	I didn't even answer.  How could there be another Terry Menlow in
town?  But wait there actually WAS another one--Jerry Menlow.

	But Dad was not finished.  "Not Jerry, too?  Man, that could be
hot, huh?"  He actually winked.

	"TMI, Dad."

	"Well, I'm happy for you.  Those guys are top of the heap around
here.  You're obviously adapting well to the move, socially."

	"Don't make too much of it, Dad.  I don't really know what this is
all about yet.  It's a date, one date, and I had no clue this guy was even
on the candidate list.  I still don't know about his brother."

	"Look, son, I know this has been a rough move on you.  Worst
possible time to have to change schools.  You've been a real trooper, and I
want you to know how much I appreciate it, and I hope so much for it to
work out OK for you school-wise.  And life-wise.  Because it was a huge
opportunity for me, as you know."

	"It hasn't been easy.  but maybe it's about to get better.  More
interesting, anyway.  Thanks for caring."

	The 'rents did care, there was no doubt about that, and they did
what they could to make my situation more bearable.  But being new as a
senior in a huge school--there's not a lot anyone can do to make that
easier.

	Wednesday evening, I found a carton of a dozen Magnums on my
dresser, along with a bottle of Astrolube.  Well, that was subtle.  Dad
left me these little gifts from time to time, faster, frankly, than I was
able to use them.  (Most of my new contacts did not require a Magnum, and I
was not really making use of the things yet.  They fit me, but I wasn't
finding catchers among my classmates yet.)  At least he didn't feel the
need to say anything about it.

	I packed a little gym bag for my date: condoms and lube, toothbrush
and paste, my brand of body-wash/shampoo, comb, and one change of shirt and
socks.  No underwear, since I don't wear 'em, and nothing to sleep in.
Ever the optimist.

	I saw Terry at school daily, of course, and at practice, the next
couple of days.  I knew it was Terry, because he smiled shyly and
knowingly, and spoke to me in the hall.  But we didn't have any classes
together in our large, consolidated high school, so there was no time to
talk discretely, and I was intent upon preserving his privacy so far as it
was up to me.  Terry had a scuff mark on his left cheek.  I pointed to my
cheek as we were passing, and he laughed.

	"Had a run-in with a tree.  It's OK. We made up."

	I saw Jerry a few times, too (they always wore different outfits).
In our relatively brief acquaintance, we were not exactly buds, but he did
usually speak to me in a friendly way, and sometimes seemed to go out of
his way to do so.  This week, he was kind of cool.  And he was never with
Terry when I saw either of them.  So they might have had some tiff, I
thought, I hoped not major, and not to do with me.  It was not foremost in
my mind.

	We had no match that Thursday night, and Friday was suddenly here.
Time flies on this planet.

	Terry picked me up in his red Wrangler, red being one of our school
colors, and the University's, too, and we roared off to the mall near
Crestwood.  Terry suggested a small, family Italian place nearby, and he
was right, it was great food at a very tolerable price.  But Terry insisted
on paying.  I didn't put up too much of a fight, thinking I would be paying
up later, with my ass.  And I was right about that, but I should have paid
him for his service, it was so wonderful!

	He was the perfect gentleman, courteous and attentive.  He made me
feel like the center of his world that evening.  He was funny, interesting,
and sexy as hell.  We liked the same music and video games, cheered for the
same sports teams, and admired the same athletes.  It was a little eerie.
Of course, if I had had any differing opinions, I would have changed them
immediately, he was that attractive and persuasive.  By the end of dinner,
I was half-way in love. I was leaking precum into my pants most of the meal
and movie.  By midnight, I was picturing the two of us in church wearing
white tuxedoes with matching shoes and orchid boutonnieres.

	The movie itself was OK, predictable, one of those Marvel 3-D comic
things.  The world was saved by the skin of its teeth, and by the
skin-tight tights of its super-hero, one more time.  Sitting next to Terry
was what made it worth sitting through.  We were near the back, with no one
directly behind us, and he reached over to hold my hand about fifteen
minutes in.  Half an hour in, he pulled both our hands down into his lap,
where immediately, I felt his huge boner pulling against the fabric of his
jeans leg.  My fevered imagination was not exaggerating, the guy was hung!
I began to massage the tool gently, producing a large wet spot on his right
jeans thigh.  When we got up to leave, he took off his jacket and folded it
over his arm for camouflage.

	We came out about 9:45 and headed for Terry's place, formerly his
Nana's.  (There had been a Pops, too, but he died when the twins were still
small.)  It was a nice, fifties suburban rancher, with brick halfway up and
siding the rest of the way, a huge, picture window on front and back, a
two-car garage, and a big, covered breezeway between house and garage.  It
had a large, well- landscaped, private lot, with the house set well back
from the road.  Living and dining were one long room, kitchen and family
room another, with a "bar" counter-top in between.  It had "grandmother"
all over it.

	"Don't laugh at the bedroom," Terry said, leading me down the hall.
"I can't redecorate or move anything out or in until the estate settles.
But I do change the sheets!"

	It was pretty comical.  The curtains and matching bedspread were
pink floral, the carpet white.  The furniture was white "French
Provincial," and there were Monet rip-off prints framed on the walls.
Water lilies.  But the bed was king-size, and we wasted little time getting
into it.  Terry had candles lit and the lights off in minutes, and he had
me naked and sprawled on the center of the mattress in seconds more.  I
didn't have time to get to my Magnums or my lube, but I didn't need them:
he had an even larger quantity readily available in Nana's bedside table
drawer.

	His were Magnums, too, and this guy would need them.

	The man had the body of a god, there was no doubt about it.  Terry
was about six feet one, and simply sublime in every way.  His erection was
only a tad longer than mine, about the same thickness, but then, I'm
horse-hung, myself.  Terry's eyes were fastened on my body as he stripped.

	"Dude, you are so hot.  I've had my eye on you since you walked out
onto the field at that first soccer practice back in September."

	"I had no idea.  What took you so long?"

	"Stupidity, I guess.  Shyness.  Well, I thought you were straight
until last week, when Wendy Parker said something about you 'playing for
the other team.'  I knew she didn't mean the Bobcats."

	"How the fuck did Wendy Parker know?"

	"Oh, that bitch is a fag-hag.  She hangs out with Robbie Thompson a
lot.  She says he bragged he nailed you."

	"Fuck.  I'm not totally closeted, but I don't need a lot of gossip
going around, not yet anyway.  I got a year of school to get through.
That's the last Robbie Thompson will see of my ass!"

	"There's a good side.  She blabbed to me.  Well, Jerry was there,
too, so to both of us."

	"And no telling who else.  I guess Jerry knows about you?"

	"Oh, yeah.  No secrets with us, it wouldn't work, anyway.  We have
that twin telepathy, for better or worse.  Don't worry about him, he
couldn't 'out' you without 'outing' me and though he can be a turd
sometimes, like I can be myself, neither of us would do that."

	"So, is he....?"

	"Like I said, I wouldn't do that."

	The dialogue ended with Terry's lips surrounding mine and his
tongue delving inside to play with my own.  It was wet, and it was
wonderful.

	Terry made love to me that night in the most passionate, sweet,
lusty, tender, butt-bashing, orgasmic way.  I mean, he gave me the full
service fuck, like I'd never had before.  For one thing, he had the biggest
dick I had yet experienced, and on top of that, he knew how to use it.  I
wondered briefly how a guy still in high school could be experienced enough
in the sack to have this much skill on top of a guy's ass, but then, it
occurred to me that maybe that was pretty obvious.  He shared a bedroom
nightly with a guy just as hot and beautiful and fit as he himself was.
That thought didn't put me off, but turned me on.  I didn't let on, though.

	Terry licked my entire body down to the toes.  His hands stroked me
even as he licked and nibbled.  He sucked on and tweaked my nips, washed my
arm pits with his big, wet tongue, and took each of my big testicles into
his mouth, one at a time, for a thorough ball-laundering.  He made it
three-quarters of the way down my cock without gagging.  Then, he blew my
mind by going to town on my anus, something I had heard of but never
experienced.  He had my rectum as loose as a Jello salad at the church
picnic.  Then, sliding the Magnum into place expertly, he said, "I'll go
easy."

	"Don't fuckin' dare!" I answered through clenched teeth.  "Just do
me."

	He slid into me like I was home plate.  "Tell me when you want me
to finish."

	"That may be a while."

	Grinning, he bent to lick my ear and suck my earlobe.  "I'm fine
with that."

	It was over an hour before I called a halt.  An hour of steady,
sweaty, deep-dick, butt-slapping, prostrate-pleasing, hard-ass fucking, in
half a dozen sexy poses allowing juncture and penetration in a variety of
angles and depths.  I came twice, myself, on my abdomen and on his.  He
filled the first condom, but that didn't slow him down.  He had another in
place in seconds, and he went right back at it.

	Finally, I said, "I think I'm about fucked out, Dude."

	With a series of hard, deep, thrusts, he pumped his second load
into the Magnum deep within my gut.  He lay atop me for a moment to let the
long hose drain.  Then he pulled out, kissed me sweetly, slapped my rump as
I rolled over, and said, "Damn, Dude, that was sweet.  You're a great
fuck."

	Terry wrapped his muscular arms around me and enfolded me in
man-cocoon.  I was asleep in seconds, with a very happy, very tingly ass.

	The next I knew, pink light was streaming through the floral
curtains, and my piss-hard-on pressed almost painfully against my
bed-mate's.  I felt totally comfortable, but my bladder begged to differ.
I unwound myself from lover-boy's long limbs.

	I limped into Nana's pink ceramic tile bathroom and let 'er rip
into the rosy toilet bowl.  Before I finished, Terry appeared beside me,
rested his hand on my opposite hip, and let fly alongside me, his near foot
pressing against mine.  His balls hung a bit higher than usual after their
workout, but his cock was as fleshy and beautiful as ever, though as pink
as the ceramic.  We held and then shook one another's dicks, while he
leaned over to give me a long, wet kiss.

	"Can you cook?" he asked, breaking the lip-lock.

	"Um.  Basics, I guess.  What do you have?"

	He led me to the kitchen, where he had stashed bacon, eggs,
hashed-brown patties, and frozen biscuits, the makings of a good breakfast.
He had coffee pods in several flavors, and a brewer.  There were milk,
butter, and grape jelly in the refrigerator.

	I micro-waved the bacon to avoid having burn-speckles on my front
side.  As the biscuits browned and I tended eggs in the skillet, I felt
bare feet settling against the outsides of my own, and then Terry pressed
his cock against my butt crack and nuzzled my neck and ears, while
fingering my nips.  His pecs leaned into my shoulder blades.  I may have
over-cooked the eggs just a bit.  He pulled away to serve up the plates,
and we sat at Nana's kitchen table to eat, and also feast our eyes on the
face and torso of one another.

	"When do you have to be home?"

	"Never?"

	He laughed.  "Good answer."  He leaned over to kiss me gently,
though my mouth was full of egg and potato.

	"Well, Jerry has the house tonight, so we do have to go somewhere.
But, Bran, I need to tell you how great this has been to me, how great you
are.  I want to see you again.  Could we go out tonight, even though we
can't come here?  I just want to be with you."

	I decided to go out on a limb.  "How about my place?  I'm pretty
sure my folks are going out someplace tonight, they told me, but I didn't
pay attention.  I need to call and check in anyway.  I'll tell them we are
sleeping over there.  After--what would you like to do, earlier?"

	We wound up making a day of it.  After we laundered sheets (we'd
pretty much trashed them with sex juices) and put away dishes at Nana's, we
played tennis in the afternoon (he thrashed my butt), had dinner
compliments of my absentee parents at a little grill not far from my place,
where our classmates rarely went (but two were working in the kitchen, as
luck would have it, one of them Sean Canady).  Later, after a skinny-dip in
our backyard pool, Terry had his dick deep in my ass, when we heard my
parents coming in through the garage.

	"It's just us, Sweetie," my mom called from the stairway.

	"That's good, Mom.  Terry and I are here, everything's fine."

	He froze in mid-thrust, both of us scared they would knock at the
door, but I heard my dad sort of hurrying Mom past and to their own room.
"You can meet him in the morning, Hon," I heard him saying.  Terry chuckled
and resumed his thrusting.

	"Thank you, Dad," I muttered.

	"Smart man."

	"Moms can be idiots."

	"Tell it.  I have one, too."  His tongue went into my right ear,
his warm breath on my cheek.

	"You know, I'm suddenly aware that your bed-springs squeak," Terry
commented, creaking them with his firm hip thrusts.

	"Yeah, that's a problem with me just jacking, too.  I guess they're
kind of used to it."

	"But not used to it when you have a guest, right?"

	"Well, no.  Dad won't care, but I can just imagine Mom commenting
on it in the morning."

	"I better finish."  With that, he gave a series of deep thrusts, a
couple of low grunts, and seeded his condom.

	"Can you just come whenever you want, or not?" I was impressed.

	"Pretty much, except you do heat me up so, it's hard to hold back."
He was still for a moment, letting the pipe drain.  Then he got all
serious.  "Bran, I've been practicing since I was twelve.  I hope this
doesn't scare you.... I'm a regular sex fiend."

	"Are you all top?"

	"No.  Really, usually 50/50.  I just really want to fuck you,
that's all.  But I'll flip for you, too, when you're ready."

	"I'm happy this way, for now.  I love the way you fuck.  I mostly
bottom, well, the guys I've been with seem to mostly top.  So I guess
you've had a lot of partners, then?"

	He shrugged, rolling off to lie beside me.  "Not really.  Say, a
dozen.  Mostly just one.  Until lately."  His voice made me sad.

	"What happened?"

	"Misunderstanding.  It was my fault.  I have to fix it."

	He cuddled up behind me, his wet, half-inflated cock lying in my
equally wet crack.

	I knew we needed to get up and shower, but I held off in case he
wanted to say more.  I may be my momma's slow child, but I knew he was
talking about him and Jerry.

	He was silent.  I rolled over and kissed his nose.

	"I hope you get things worked out, soon."

	Terry's eyes were moist.  "So do I."

	I sat up.  "Let's wash off all these body fluids, OK?"

	My room did not have its own bath, but I used the one across the
hall.  We traipsed over there naked and showered together, quietly and
intimately.  It wouldn't have surprised me if my dad had suddenly needed to
come out into the hallway for some silly reason, because I knew he'd just
love to see one of the Magnificent Menlos naked in his upstairs corridor,
but he didn't--he was probably imbedded balls-deep in my mom's wet cunt,
thinking about the two of us fucking across the hall--with her all wet, for
all I knew, for the same reason.  I resolved inwardly to arrange a nice
afternoon skinny-dipping party when Dad, but not Mom, could arrive
"unexpectedly" and catch some of us jocks, including Terry and, if
possible, Jerry, strutting around the back pool-deck in the buff.  I knew
my dad was, like so many male sports fans, a secret, but rather
transparent, admirer of the nude male form.  What the fuck.  I couldn't
blame him.  I was happy to have, and hang out with, nude male forms worthy
of his admiration.  To be fair, Dad was pretty hot himself, and only
thirty-eight, since I was born before he and Mom finished college.

	Back in my bed, Terry and I settled down in one another's arms, and
in minutes, we were sound asleep.

	The next thing we knew, there was rapping on the bedroom door, and
Dad was calling out, "Mom's got pancakes on the griddle."  It was just
after nine.

	"So.  When do you have to be back home?"

	Terry gave a lopsided grin.

	"Never?"

	"How about this afternoon, you go over and do what you know you
need to do?  I can entertain myself for a few hours, at least.  In fact, I
have some homework."

	"Can I see you tonight?"

	"Yes, but only tonight, not overnight.  School night.  I'll get my
folks to grill steaks or burgers.  Come around six.  After, we can hang up
here for a while."

	Terry happily agreed, and we went down to stuff ourselves with
Mom's great pancakes and sausages.  My dad was in a particularly jocund
mood, with the famous athlete's long bare feet under his breakfast table
next to mine, and across from his own slippered ones.  He took my dinner
suggestion right in stride, and offered to go out for some nice strip
steaks for us that afternoon.  Mom played right along, asking him to pick
up fresh salad greens and sour cream, saying she'd make twice-baked
potatoes.

	After Terry departed, I went to my room to do my assignment, but
Dad strolled in nonchalantly.  I made him work for it.

	"Well?"  He asked.

	"Well, what?"

	"Well, how was it?  Two nights in a row--looks pretty positive."

	I decided to show a little mercy.  Besides, I felt so happy, I
couldn't hide it, and I knew it.

	"Dad, awesome.  Just fabulously, amazingly, uber-awesome."

	"Damn.  That good, huh?  You're not pregnant, are you?"  He
chuckled.

	"Dad, I won't lie.  We did use condoms, but if one of them broke, I
could be.  And I don't care if I am."

	He laughed.  "Well, we'll see.  He seems like a nice young man.  On
top of that, he's probably tied for second best-looking young man I ever
saw.  With his brother."

	"Yeah, who's first?"

	"You, of course."

	I laughed.  "Dad, you amaze me.  You always know how to make me
feel good.  You don't have to stretch quite that far, though."

	"Who's stretching?  He asked you out, didn't he--and came home with
you after!  What do you think brought that on?  I'm proud of you, Kiddo.
I'm glad it was awesome. And that you take after your mother in looks."  He
grinned.

	I grinned back, but just shrugged.  Dad and I both knew that I am
universally acknowledged to be a chip off the ol' block, his spittin'
image, and all that masculine ego stuff.

	He headed out to do the grocery shopping, while I zipped through my
homework assignment with the lightest heart I'd had in months.

	When Terry returned at six, he carried a box of candy for my mom,
which she accepted like a giggling school-girl.  He was a bit subdued,
though, as if very shy.  I could tell my mom found that quite fetching, him
being all cute and bashful.  My dad poured wine for us, with our steaks,
just one glass.  It was a nice, family meal, all very cordial and
comfortable, except that I knew Terry had something on his mind.  I
supposed I'd find out later.  And I did.

	In my room after Mom's Flaming Bananas Foster, we lay front to
front on my bed and made out for a while, but though pleasant, it didn't
seem like it was going anywhere.  After several minutes, Terry pulled back
and said, seriously, "Bran, I need to talk to you.  I have to ask you
something real important to me.  I want you to do me a huge favor.  Huge."

	I had no idea where this was going.  "So, what?  I'll do what I
can, Terry, you know that."

	"First, I have to tell you what a grade-A asshole I am.  I can be
really mean and selfish and I was this time.  You may kick my ass out once
you know, and I couldn't blame you.  I only ask you to try, just try, to
get past this."

	"Well, fuck, Dude, just tell me...What did you do, murder my mom's
cat or something?"

	He looked at me with shock.  "Fuck, man, even I would not do
that...but it's bad, though.  OK, last week, Jerry told me, in confidence,
not knowing what a prick I would be about it, that he had found out you
dated guys, from Wendy Parker.  She didn't really tell both of us, just
him.  I lied.  I really never go around that bitch.  Anyway, Jerry said he
was going to ask you out for next weekend, this coming Friday night.  He
wanted to take you out to Nana's.  He told me so I would not make plans to
use the house that night, or assume I'd be there with him.

	"OK, Jer can be a prick, too.  He may have been partly lording it
over me that he was going to get to you first.  He thought."

	"Jerry wanted to date me?"

	"Yeah.  But I cut him off.  Behind his back, I asked you first, for
the very next weekend.  What Jerry did not know was that I was hot for you
all along, for months.  I mean, he knew I was noticing you, he just didn't
know how much.  I didn't know you might be favorable, but I was checking
you out all the time, and fantasizing about us together.  I was so jealous
when he said he was going for it!  I couldn't stand it.  But I betrayed my
relationship with my brother, and I was unfair to you, too.  I didn't give
him, or you, a chance with each other.  It kind of gets worse.  In my
heart, I'm not sorry I did it.  I'm only sorry for the strain it's put on
him and me, and now, you, so I really fucked myself.  Because the time I've
had with you is the best ever.  Not just the sex, I mean being with you.  I
really, really want this to work out.  There's just one problem: I really
love my brother, more than anything.  I can't bear to have him not speaking
to me.  When I told him I had a date with you on Friday night, he hauled
off and slugged me, just about knocked me out.  He's never done that
before, ever.  We wrestle around all the time, but usually, it just ends in
sex.  I hope that doesn't gross you out.  Yes, we've been sexually active
together, since we were twelve.  We've done it all, and then some, believe
me.  Anyway, after that, he wouldn't speak to me at all, not a word.  He's
avoided me like the very devil.  This weekend, Man, I really did not want
to go home.  I didn't want to face him.  But I knew I had to."

	"So did you talk to him?  Did he talk back?"

	"First, he hit me again.  I kind of half-blocked it, and it didn't
leave a mark this time.  Then I told him I was sorry, and got him to
talking about how mad he was and how much he had looked forward to being
with you.  I told him I would do what it takes to get back on good terms
with him.  He attacked me, and we wrestled, pretty hard.  I let him get me
down, and he fucked me into the next county, about.  Then, with his dick
still up my ass, he says there is only one way: I have to get you to go out
with him this Friday night.  Then, he'll decide if he can stand to be
around me anymore or not.  'So I hope you enjoyed this fuck,' he said,
'cause it may be the last.'

	"Well, I did enjoy it, actually, though it was more like a total
rape, but he knows I like it rough sometimes, and I sure as hell don't want
it to be the last, I'm not ready for that.  Can you understand any of this
at all?"

	"Fuck, Terry.  This puts me in a bind, Man.  Now it's all up to me
whether you and your brother ever speak again, not to mention fuck.  What
do I have to do?  Give you up and go with him?  What if I don't want to?  I
thought I was falling in love with you--up to now, anyway."

	"God, I'm such a fuck up.  I've felt the same way, since you agreed
to date me, but especially since Friday night.  I want you, Bran!  Really,
I do, I want to be with you.  But fuck, I want my brother!  I love him,
too!

	"Look, you don't have to do anything with him at all.  If you two
don't click, it's OK, he'll understand then.  Just spend an evening with
him, and get to know one another.  After that, we'll see where we all
stand.  It's all I know to do."

	He was really pretty teary at that point, and I had to feel for the
guy, pussy that I am.  I kissed his sexy nose again.  I didn't have to
ponder it too long to realize that getting a try-out fuck by his sexy
identical brother was not exactly the worst thing that could happen to me,
even if he raped me, too.  I kind of began to get excited just thinking
about it.

	"OK, Terry.  I'll go out with Jerry.  I would have anyway, if he
had asked me first.  I know he's a different person than you, even though
you look exactly alike.  Hell, you could probably have sent him on our next
date without telling me, and I might not even know.  At least, you didn't
do that!"

	"Actually, we did that to Marie Van Sandt one time.  She still
doesn't know he fucked her instead of me....But really, no, we would never
do that to anyone now, we've matured some, anyway."

	"So--if he doesn't rape me, will you do it later?"

	He grinned big then.  "Any time, butt-boy."

	"Let's make it an early night, Ter.  I'm not really all that mad,
but we both have things to think about.  You need to get home and tell
Jerry he's on for Friday, same details as for us last week?  And I think I
need to sulk awhile on my own.  And dream of getting raped this weekend.
I'll see both of you at school tomorrow."

	Alone in my bed, I thought and thought until sleep sneaked up on me
an just mugged me.  All that thinking robbed me of some sleep, but it did
nothing to reveal the future to me.  For that, I would just have to
wait--but not, I hoped, for long.


MORE TO COME...