Date: Sat, 11 Aug 2001 00:31:01 EDT
From: Getrealguy@aol.com
Subject: The Power - Part 1 (Incest)

  This is a work of FICTION for ADULTS only. "The Power" is a story
about twin teenage boys who are bound together by a psychic
phenomenon that they called "The Power". This file contains sexually
explicit material.  All comments welcome - flames ignored.

                               THE POWER - PART 1
                              By GetRealGuy@aol.com

  Saturday had come at last. We had packed most of the gear the
night before so that we could get an early start. And we were off.
It was about an hours drive to the bay and we were all excited. My
Mom hugged Dad and gave him a little peck on the cheek as we left
the driveway. Bob and I, seated in the back, punched each other. It
was our way of releasing some of the excitement penned up inside of
us. Horsing around was also a contest to show off our strength and
vitality to each other. We should have outgrown that by now but
instead, when the two of us were alone in our bedroom, those playful
encounters developed into what resembled a wrestling match. We were
evenly matched. No wonder, we were identical twins. We celebrated
our fifteenth birthdays just last week.

  A couple years ago, for reasons unknown to us at the time, we
started to enjoy the body contact associated with our wrestling
matches. At first we were unaware that Mother Nature was just going
through the usual process of male hormonal development on both of
us. She went about her business pouring testosterone hormones into
our blood streams as part of her relentless process. By now she had
already messed around with our voices and had placed a few hairs,
slightly darker than the hair on our heads, in selected places on
our bodies. While these changes were taking place penis erections
were occurring for no apparent reason. Unpredictable, maybe, but we
both knew that the wrestling was a sure way to cause our cocks to
get rock hard. This would have been the ideal time for Dad to say,
"OK kids, It's normal for boys to masturbate," but during his
awkward discussions about the birds and bees, he failed to mention
this. Consequently, with our somewhat religious upbringing, we
foolishly believed the act to be; not only sinful, but unnatural,
unhealthy, and probably harmful. That was, until I found out what a
magnificent sensation it was. I credit that finding to what happen
one day as I rode my bicycle home from school.

  That morning, Bob beat me to the last pair of clean underwear so
I was without. While I pedaled along the rough material of my
loosely cut trousers started rubbing directly against the most
sensitive part of my crouch. I was being rewarded with a wonderful,
electrifying sensation. To make it even more pleasurable, each time
I pressed down on one of the bicycle pedals my body moved in such a
way that the extended protrusion of my bicycle seat, the part that
the female seat doesn't have, poked the area just behind my balls.
That added to the experience. This type of stimulation wasn't
entirely new to me but it had never been so intense. I didn't fully
understand what was occurring at the time, but undoubtedly, I was
experiencing one or more dry climaxes in my urgency to get to a
place where I could play with myself in private. Which I did as soon
as I was at home and was in the privacy of our bathroom. There,
while seated on the toilet seat, I pressed that muscle under my
balls with my fingers and even worked one of my fingers into my
rectum experimenting. Finally, I was able to reproduce even a better
sensation than I experienced on the bicycle. I went on to discover a
really nifty use of my penis besides just pissing out of it.

  As I passed through this stage of my life I had to satisfy this
ever growing sexual urge that was taking over my body or carry
around a stiffy all day. I didn't have much of a problem figuring
out how to do that. It came naturally with me. Some guys actually
have to be shown how to masturbate by an older male family member.
That would have been nice. In my case, Bob was the same age as me,
and neither of us knew what it was all about. I guess that Dad took
it for granted that we would learn, individually, on our own. He
talked to us about using a rubber when we fucked girls, assuming
that we would be doing that soon if we weren't already doing it. He
said nothing about masturbation. It was though something like that
would never occur to us. That left only one way for us to learn, and
probably the best way, through experimentation.

 Experiment, I did every chance that I could get. I had long
decided that something that felt so good couldn't be all that wrong.
It quickly became a habit so I opted to take the consequences, if
there were any, rather than to stop.

  It would have been nice if Bob and I could have experimented with
each other from the start. Instead, we learned about it on our own
and were masturbating regularly, individually. Bob and I were alike
in most ways. The biggest difference between us was that he,
undoubtedly, thought about girls while he did it and I, thought
about boys, or more so, boys with great big cocks. That was a major
hang up with me at that time. So, I decided to play it cool hoping
that he might approach me, on his own initiative, with the attitude
that experimenting with each other was just a guy thing. Something
that regular guys do. That way he would get no inclination of my
sexual preferences. Or, so I thought. Meanwhile we went on, for a
short period, hiding our erections from each other until we could
masturbate individually, secretly in our own private places.
Unfortunately, both of our private places were in the one upstairs
bathroom. That is why there was always a discreet race to the
bathroom immediately following one of our numerous, erection
causing, wrestling matches.

  Soon the masturbation became not the accidental result, but the
prime intent of these encounters. Finally the erections became so
obvious that it was impossible to hide them from each other. Knowing
that Bob was having erections also, I decided to playfully expose
one of his boners. I was right in guessing that he would retaliate
by pulling my briefs down. It worked. So well in fact, that a day
later, Bob took off all of his cloths before we started to wrestle.
His excuse was that he had spent his allowance on "Calvin Klines"
and he didn't what them torn. It was a poor excuse but I was only
too glad to accept it without saying anything. He wanted me nude too
so he yanked my briefs down to my ankles and waited for me to step
out of them. We made body contact and started to wrestle.

  Just the thought of us both being nude excited me to a new high.
The second he pressed his hard body against mine, I knew that no
matter how hard that I tried, there was no way to stop the erection
that was well on its way. He had me pinned by sitting on my chest.
Forcing both of my wrists to the hard floor, he held them there.
According to our own rules, this was a legal pin so he started the
count. At the count of one, I inhaled deeply to see if I could catch
the scent of his body. I could feel the dampness from the sweat of
his ball sack which was nesting softly on my chest. On two, I opened
my eyes to focus on his flaccid monster laying only inches from my
mouth. I was expecting the ecstasy of his dominance for the full
count but at the count of three, he quickly released me. He got off
my chest leaving my boner fully exposed. He took a quick glance at
my hard-on like he knew it would be there. Then he moved off his
hunches, scooted into a sitting position and took one long tug at
his still soft member. Slowly, he slid back and nested his back
against the covers hanging down from the bed while taking a few more
pulls at his rapidly growing dick. With the most mischievous smile
that I had ever seen on him, he gazed wide-eyed at my woody. To my
astonishment, with his eyes still fixed on my cock, started a
sequence of slow even strokes up and down his almost full erection.
Even more of a surprise, without asking, with his eyes alone, he
motioned for me to do the same. He wanted me to join in. Wow, this
is what I had been hoping for all of this time. Best of all, he
started the whole thing. At that time, either of us had matured
enough to shoot a wad. As for me, I learned that watching another
guy stroke himself excited me tremendously. I also became aware of
another pleasure that was growing within me. That was, showing what
I had to watchful eyes was becoming increasingly exciting to me.
That was the start of Stage Two. That was, we watched each other
masturbate without touching. I was looking foreword to experiencing
the joys of Stage Three and then Stage Four, etc. But enough, that
is what the rest of this story is about.

  May I introduce myself? I'm Bill. The kids within our group call
me Willie Whopper Wanker. Allow me to translate. Willie, because I
am a William. Wanker is one that wanks and obviously, whopper
describes the size of what is being wanked. Actually the word "wank"
came from one of the kids at school that just came over from the UK.
From the first time the guys in our group heard the expression, it
quickly became part of their vocabulary. It was usual for each of us
in our group to be given a descriptive gang name. Therefore, my
nickname, used only within our group, refers to my pecker as being,
as the idiom goes, "bigger than big". That it is. And Bob, being an
identical twin, carries an identical whopper between his legs. More
directly, the kids named him "Boobie Big Bulge".

  Bob and I were big kids for our age. We got that from Dad, I
guess, along with his big pecker. Mom is small and petite. We
inherited our fair complexion, blue eyes, and blond hair from her.
If I do say so myself, and I am sure that Bob would agree, we were
darn good looking kids. Mom likes to remind us, just to let us know
that she had something to do with our birth, that we were big kids
even when we were born, especially for twins. I think she was just
as excited as we were to go out in the boat. Not only did she enjoy
just being along to mother us, including Dad; she was always excited
when she brought home a catch. Mom packed a great picnic basket
which we got into the habit of appropriately calling "The Galley".
With our ravishing appetites, having her come along was a must as
long as she bought along "The Galley".

  We arrived at Captain Hubbard's dock which was located in a small
lagoon off the bay. Dad rented a slit there where we kept our
nineteen-foot sailboat. While Dad greeted the Captain, assumably to
pay up his rent, we started to unload the gear from the car into the
boat. As Dad came toward us, stuffing something into his wallet, the
Captain yelled his usual warning as he looked up at the sky.

  "You swabbies," obviously a carryover from his Navy days, he
called all the guys that had boats there swabbies. "Don't go out too
far, there is a gale abrewing up and it's going to be a big in," he
loudly grumbled.

  Dad turned and gave him a short wave, more like a salute, as he
stuffed his wallet into his back pocket and held his free hand
outstretched. I grabbed it while he stretched out his leg to make
the transition from the dock to the side deck. Our sailboat was
large enough to be outfitted with an outboard motor but, instead, we
decided to spend our tight budget allotment on other improvements.
Besides, we had the manpower of three males aboard whenever we went
out. Bob and I took one ore while Dad reached for the other. Mom
scooted in the usual position at the rudder ready to steer. Mom had
been previously instructed to keep the rudder centered, neither to
the port or starboard side, until she got further instructions from
Dad, the Captain. Dad made her feel that she was handling the most
important job aboard. It was only necessary to row the boat out far
enough to clear the dock so that we could put up the sails.
Nevertheless, with our enthusiasm, we always overdid it. The old
Captain watched approvingly in how well synchronized we all were as
we pulled away from the dock. As he looked on, his weather beaten
face expressed his concern for our lack of motorized power to get us
back to the dock if the storm that he adamantly predicted should
occur.

  Bob and I always operated as one with everything that we did
together. It was uncanny how well coordinated we were. I often
thought that although Bob and I were born as twins, we were meant to
be one and came pretty darn close to it. Maybe that is why I could
read his movements, his thoughts, his feelings, and even his pain. I
was well aware that he could do the same with me. We finally
realized that this was not normal and decided that we had a special
gift. That was when we decided not to reveal this to anyone else
including Mom and Dad. Although we knew this phenomenon was very
real to us, we didn't want to take the chance of ridicule from
nonbelievers. So, we decided to secretly call this gift "The Power".
Just in our minds? True, but that is what it is all about. Most of
us recognize the fact that we all have an imaginary person penned up
inside of us. When the opportunity presents itself, with
reservations, we allow ourselves to become that person. So it is
with Bob and me. This imaginary person is usually someone that you
admire and want to be like. The only problem is that my other person
is Bob and apparently Bob's other person is me. Because our minds
are alike and because we have this special gift, we have the ability
to combine, to become one mind, and therefore become one person.
Through the years we have lived our lives being increasingly
convinced that "The Power" grows more powerful each day.

  When we were very young, we did not need audible conversation
between the two of us. We were too young to analyze it at the time
but we were actually reading each other's mind. Then there was the
time that Bob broke his ankle and was put into an ankle cast. I
could hardly put any weight on by left foot from the pain and
developed a noticeable limp. Mom noticed it and scolded me saying,
"Now don't make fun of your brother." There were many other
incidents but the one that had the biggest impact on my life is easy
to recall. I knew what a climax was like because I was masturbating
at least once a day but I never had an ejaculation. Bob, using "The
Power", changed that.

  Both of our dicks were good size, a little over seven inches.
That was three or four years ago but since then nature has blessed
us by adding even more to the length while adding a great deal to
the thickness also. Up to this point, we were masturbating in each
other's presents but that is as far as it went. The general
consensus of the guys that we hung out with was that it was ok to
beat your own meat but anyone that handled another guys prong was a
queer. I didn't have to rely on "The Power" to learn that Bob didn't
have the same desire to get my prong in his hand as I did his.

  It was the morning of a school day. I woke up with a start. Bob
was shaking me. I thought from his excitement that the house was on
fire. I expected to see flames and smell smoke as I tried to focus
my eyes. Instead I saw the enormous head of his hard dick only
inches from my face.

  "Look at this," he shouted.

  It was so close that it almost touched the tip of my nose. I had
to back off slightly to take a better look. "Fuck!" I gasped, so
startled that I couldn't think of anything else to say.

  "Now watch." He placed his finger on the tip and slowly withdrew
it in a straight line toward my face. My eyes almost crossed
following his finger. To my amazement a whitish, but almost clear,
substance formed a thick thread that spanned from the slit hole in
is penis to the tip of his finger. Instantly I knew what it was. A
few days before we exchanged information about the difference
between a climax, of which we knew all about, and an orgasm with an
ejaculation, something that neither of us had experienced yet.

  "Man that's jizz, cum, spunk," and every word that I knew for it
came out of my mouth in the excitement. "You shot!"

  "Yeah, I woke up early and decided to have a morning wank and --
LOOK! Finally! Wait till you see what it is like. Now I want you to
do it. Come on! Do it."

  "But I don't think I can. I've nev--- I don't think I can," I
stammered in my excitement.

  "If I can, you can. We are just alike. You know that."

  "But I don't think that I am ready." I reached down under the
covers and took a tug at myself through my jockey shorts. "Besides,
I am not even hard," I said, taking another tug.

  "No prob," he said assuredly, "'The Power' can have it up in no
time."

  With that, he through back the bed covers and exposed by body,
naked except for the jockey shorts that I always slept in. Then he
grabbed both of my ankles and ducked his head down so that they were
resting on one of his shoulders. Then with one hand he raised them
high enough so only my upper back and shoulders were touching the
mattress and held them there. I recognized the position as one that
we used while we were wrestling. I didn't resist because I knew what
was coming next. With one quick swoop, off came my shorts and I was
nude. Both of us were experts at this because lately, we did it to
each other every time we had a match. Then he grabbed both of my
arms and pulled me out of bed into a standing position. This was not
one of the normal moves that we used in our matches but, out of
curiosity, I went along with it. He grabbed my waist, rather
roughly, and spun me around so that I was facing the full-length
mirror on the closet door. As I looked in the mirror I could see him
move his head against mine so that we were touching, cheek to cheek.
I could feel his hard dick gently touching my side. He pressed
closer and whispered.

  "Now look at that thing hanging between your legs. Look closely
and watch it grow."

  That was enough to cause that place at the root of my penis to
tighten up. Then there was a smooth relaxation of the pressure.
Then, a soothing tingle started to travel down the shaft of my dick
to the sensitive head. The tingling sensation became overwhelming.
As the warm blood engorged my cock, my foreskin retracted leaving
the sensitive helmet fully exposed. By this time my pole was rising
to a position that would soon be straight out from my body. The
sensation was so intense that I momentarily stop breathing.

  Bob was really excited now. "Look at that thing grow! Man, that's
getting huge. It's enormous. Shit, that is one big cock!"

   I took a deep breath and forced it down into my stomach. Then
pushed it down to the root of my penis, flexed and pushed it into my
dick. I stared intently at the image in the mirror. It looked like I
was blowing up my dick from the inside. On the other hand, I wasn't
sure it was a part of my anatomy that I was looking at. It was like
it belonged to someone else and I was getting excited at the sight.
As I watch, it grew fatter and longer.

  Bob continued his words of encouragement. I had observed my
erections growing in the mirror before but never as huge as this. It
started to hurt it was so big and hard. If there were a bone in
there, I am sure it would have poked its way through the skin.
Suddenly, without warning, Bob spun me around and roughly pushed me
onto the bed. Then he lifted my legs, my feet were still touching
the floor, and placed me fully on the bed. Then he straddled my
midsection. Most of his weight was on his two knees so I could
hardly feel his body weight. Then he grabbed both of my wrists and
pinned me down. I almost expected him to start the count but instead
he released his hold. Realizing that the movement was intended to
place my arms in a position over my head, I did not move them. As he
assumed an upright position, he raised his body just enough so that
his balls cleared my chest. This made it possible for me to look
straight down my body and see the base of my own hard cock. A wave
of excitement passed over me as he took that big thing of his in his
hand and pointed it straight at my face.

  "Wow, man, beat that big thing," I groaned excitedly.

  He pulled the foreskin up so that it almost completely covered
the head. Then reversed the direction, moving down his shaft, until
the full head was exposed. There were still some traces of cum
clinging to the smooth skin of the cap. Almost at the same time he
moved his left hand under his sack and cupped his balls. Then he
started the slow rhythmic stroking up and down the full length of
his long thick shaft.

  "Come on guy, I want to see you shoot," I gasped.

 My body surged involuntarily. I was so engrossed that I didn't
notice it at first. It felt so natural. I could feel a hand wrapped
around my shaft and it was moving up and down its length but it
wasn't me. I could see that both of Bob's hands were occupied and on
top of that, both of my hands were above my head. In panic, I raised
my head and looked down my body expecting to see my own cock as I
did before. Bob was still holding his balls and it was blocking the
view.

  "Shit!" I bellowed, "there is someone--. Someone is...."

  "Yeah man, 'The Power'. 'The Power'!" The excitement in his voice
caused the realization of what was happening. I relaxed as I entered
the mist of a beautiful dream.

  I heard myself say aloud. "I Know. It's 'The Power'"

  My body was so relaxed that it seemed like I was floating. I was
drifting into a mental state that I had never experienced before. My
whole body was involved. This was the first time that I felt someone
else's hand, lightly cradling and slowly, gently, moving up and down
the length of my cock. Bob's full weight was on my body as he sat on
my midsection. Although I could not move my body, I put all my
strength into pushing up on the downward strokes and pulling back on
the upward strokes. This was pumping energy into my erection making
it feel unbelievably sensitive and powerful at the same time. The
grasp became firmer and the rhythm of the strokes started to
increase. My breathing became rapid. I was getting close. By
instinct, I tensed up that same muscle, between my sack and ass
hole, to try and stop what was about to happen. I wanted the feeling
to last as long as possible. Although I had never reached this
pinnacle before, I knew that I had to let go and go over the edge.
It was about then that I felt the first throb, of a series of
pulses, taking place in that muscle under my balls. I let go. A
surge, like a bolt of lightning, ran through every place on my body
at the same time. I have lived that exact moment repeatedly in my
mind. In reality, it happened very quickly but it became burned into
my memory as if everything actually happened in slow motion.

  Bob's cock was plainly visible but now he was holding it in an
upward angle from his body as his had slammed up and down that
beautiful shaft. His movements were almost that of an uncontrollable
spastic. A low moan started deep down in his throat. I think in mine
too. He raised up fully on his hunches which made my own dick
visible to me. At the same time he freed his own cock. I reached
down quickly and grabbed my own with one hand and reached up and
grasped Bob's with the other. Now I had one in each hand. Both of
them were throbbing with the same cadence. I squeezed both of the
shafts as hard as I could. I looked up at Bob. His chest was
expanded, his arms outstretched and his head was thrown back. It was
then that I felt something like a solid lump quickly moving up
inside of my shaft. My attention quickly focused on the tip of mine
and I could see the slit widen. Out emerged a pearl like drop of
white spunk. The first of many to be released into this world. Then
a pulse pushed out another big glob. Then another of even more
vigor. I looked back at the head of Bob's dick just in time to see a
glob of his cum in mid air a few inches above it. We both came at
exactly the same time. I had about three or four body spasms, much
like an elliptic fit while gasping for air. After I caught my breath
and my heart stopped pounding in my ears, I gasped for air again. I
suddenly realized why I was gasping. Bob's mouth was over mine.

  He pulled back. With a smile on his face he said, "Have you ever
seen two faggots kiss?" Then he gave me a little short peck at the
end of my nose as he moved his body from mine. The humor of his
remark passed me by because at that moment I felt Bob's body still
on mine and I didn't want that feeling to go away. Then I felt my
body separate from his although I didn't move a muscle. As I relaxed
I glanced down thinking that I could let go of my dick now that it
was all over. To my astonishment, I wasn't holding it. Yet, I could
feel a hand wrapped around it that seemed to be slowly releasing its
grip. My eyes darted first to Bob's one hand and then the other. He
was not contacting me in any way. My eyes quickly jumped to his face
only to find his eyes looking into mine.

   I am not sure weather I said it aloud or not but I yelled, "What
the heck!"

  Without moving his lips, I distinctly heard Bob say, "The Power".

  Without analyzing what had just happened any further I came to an
astounding realization. During that period of time, Bob and I had
become one. He had succeeded in using "The Power" to put us both in
the same body.

  From the moment that I could ejaculate, masturbation became an
entirely new experience for me. I became familiar with the odor of
my own sperm and wondered if everybody's smelled alike or were there
vas differences. I was curious about the taste also. I wanted to try
my own but found it impossible because of the dive that my libido
took after I climaxed. In other words, I always became too "grossed
out" after I shot to cope with it. One time, I decided to try it
anyhow. I was surprised to find that licking my own cum, off my hand
and fingers, seemed to add more satisfaction to my jerk-off
sessions. I quickly became addicted to the taste and smell of the
stuff. I usually held it on my tongue. This would cause my salivary
glands to sense it as food thus producing more saliva. The mix
allowed me to savor the flavor to the fullest. After I was
satisfied, I would swallow. Sometimes, as I swallowed, I would add
even more excitement to it by fantasizing that it was someone
else's. Like Bob's.

  Besides our mutual friends, we each had our own favorite buddies.
Mine were generally younger than Bob's and weren't able to ejaculate
yet. This gave me an added incentive to show off my development to
them because, besides being overly endowed, now I could show them
that I could produce sperm also. Not only did I show them what sperm
looked like but also I had them wondering what it tasted like when
they watched me lick my own. You might say that I was an
exhibitionist but I was also a voyeur. Looking at big cocks really
turned me on especially if they were bigger than my own. Without Bob
in my immediate group, I held the record. That meant that I had to
look elsewhere.

TO BE CONTINUED