Date: Mon, 7 May 2012 08:19:34 -0700 (PDT)
From: Jack Santoro <jackinnm1@yahoo.com>
Subject: Twin Brothers, Part 1, Incest

Twin Brothers, Part 1
By Jack Santoro
Jackinnm1@yahoo.com

	I was born a few minutes before my identical twin, Jim, and was
named "John," or "Jack." As identical twins we were identical in every way,
and impossible to tell apart. Even as newborns, our smiles were exactly the
same, and we even nursed in the same way. This bothered our mother and, as
she later told us, while we still had the ID bracelets on our wrists she
had Jim circumcised as an infallible distinguishing feature between us.

	When I was old enough to understand what had been done, I was happy
and relieved that I'd been the one left intact, although I felt sorry for
Jim. Jim's large helmet-shaped glans, with its high flaring corona, was
always on display, but I was glad mine remained covered and kept moist and
sensitive by my long droopy foreskin.

		Jim and I remained very close, even our single physical
difference creating a bond between us, and now, at age 22, we were spending
that Saturday afternoon comparing cocks, as we'd been doing since we were
children. We never tired of this. Soft, our pricks were about four inches
long from base to the ends of our blunt helmets, although mine had a nipple
of foreskin extending beyond the tip of my glans.

		"Our tips are exactly the same size and shape," I remarked
as I held my long foreskin all the way back so that it bunched behind my
rim. We both had full erections.

		"Remember Ricky in high school, the guy with the big
mushroom tip?" Jim asked. "He told me he was glad to be circumcised because
it made his tip bigger."

		"Oh, I remember him," I replied. "He said that without the
skin constricting the tip, it grew out to its natural full size. Well, we
know that's not true. You've been cut all these years and yet our tips are
exactly the same size." We'd measured them with a Vernier caliper and found
that they matched exactly, in length, width, and even the flare of our
rims. Length, from the corona to the blunt nose of the glans, was 1 7/8"
and width at the corona was also 1 7/8".

		"Our holes pout in exactly the same way, like teardrops,"
Jim observed. As we were lying on the queen-size bed we shared in our
apartment, I pushed forward slightly so that the blunt noses of our tips
touched. I ran my index finger around Jim's flaring rim and said:

		"Your rim's upturned just like mine, a real sexy flare."

		"Yeah, but look what's behind my rim, just that brown scar
instead of a foreskin like you have."

		"Ah, Jim, you know I'm really sorry you were circumcised,"
I replied. We both knew there was no medical reason for him having been
cut, just our mother's maniacal determination that she'd always be able to
tell us apart.

		"Oh, sure, Mother," he said. "Well, you know I'm glad she's
dead." I well understood his anger, and shared some of it myself. Our
mother had driven home from a party while stinking drunk when we were ten
years old, and had missed the road on a sharp turn, going off into a
ravine. She had not survived the crash and we didn't miss her.

		"Good thing she was alone in the car and didn't hit anyone
else," I said. "At least the bitch didn't take anyone with her. We were
home in bed and Dad was out of town."

		"I just wish that doctor hadn't listened to her," Jim
said. "If only he'd realized how nutty she was, or if Dad had been there."
Our father, who was intact, had been overseas when we'd been born.
		"Well, remember we talked to the doctor a few years ago,
and he told us he really didn't want to do it, but he knew that if he
refused, she'd have someone else do it, and he might not do as careful a
job. You know how some guys look as if they'd been cut with a chainsaw."
Jim nodded. The doctor had told us that he'd used a Plastibell clamp, which
left a very thin and even perfectly circular scar line that was barely
visible, and that he'd been careful to leave a lot of slack so that Jim's
shaft skin wouldn't be tight when he grew up. He'd also been careful not to
remove any of the frenulum, the gee-string under the glans, because he knew
it contained many nerve endings that enhanced sexual enjoyment.

		"Yeah, I guess I got a good circumcision, if there is such
a thing," Jim acknowledged. I hugged him tightly to me, to reassure him
that I felt for him.

		"You know I wish you hadn't been cut, Jim. I wish so much
you were exactly like me, but there's nothing I can do about it," I said.

		"I'm so glad you're willing to share your skin with me," he
said as his fingers closed around the end of my prick, gently squeezing the
glans and jiggling my foreskin up and down slightly. A drop of clear
viscous fluid had appeared at the tip of Jim's helmet and I spread it
around the orifice in small circles with my index finger. Talking about our
pricks always got us aroused, and I felt a drop of lubricant crawling up my
urethra as we spoke.

		"It'll always be yours, you know that," I assured him as we
continued to caress each other's hot hard pricks.

		"I love how your cock smells," he said as he stroked my
foreskin slowly.

		"You have a little of that aroma too," I pointed out. "You
weren't cut tightly, so you have a collar of skin bunched up behind your
rim, and that area is moist and sensitive. I've seen you have to pull the
skin back to clean off a little bit of white stuff you accumulate, and that
has an aroma like mine."

		"I don't get as much as you do, though," Jim countered.

		"Better than nothing," I said. Jim continued to stroke my
hood, bringing it all the way up to covr my helmet and then pulling it down
to past my corona.

		"I wish... I just wish your skin was long enough to dock
me," he said wistfully. We'd read about docking on the Internet and had
even seen photos of two guys docking.

 	"Hardly any intact guys have foreskins that long," I said. "Even
with mine, long as it is, there's not enough room inside it for another
helmet the size of mine." Jim grasped the pucker at the end of my prick and
stretched it out beyond the glans.

		You know what we saw on one web site," he reminded me. "The
one about restoring foreskins by stretching the shaft skin. I've been
thinking of doing that, and maybe while I'd stretching mine, you could be
stretching yours too. You might even be able to stretch it enough to dock
me."

		"I know what you mean, Jim, and I'm certainly willing to
try it if you will. Even if I don't get enough to dock you, I'd certainly
like to have more length, so that I could have a nipple in front of the
helmet even when I'm hard, like now."

		"It would be nice to go into this together, Jack. After
all, we do almost everything else together." We were lying on the big bed
facing each other and I looked into his eyes as he spoke.

		"You've got a good point there. We go swimming together,
we're business partners, have the same circle of friends, and live
together. Why we even masturbate together!" We both laughed at this,
although it was perfectly true.

		"Speaking of masturbating, I want to do you now. I like to
pretend that your foreskin's on my cock, and when I do you it almost seems
real." He began stroking me faster, taking longer strokes that completely
covered my helmet on the up-stroke, and almost exposed my flaring rim on
the way down. Another drop of clear lubricant had filled Jim's orifice and
I spread that one over his glans. I felt juice seeping from my tip as well,
and the movement of my foreskin spread it evenly over the sensitive
surface, its viscosity masking my sensations somewhat as it reduced the
friction.

		"I could use a little more lube," Jim said. I reached for
the bottle of Astroglide we kept conveniently on the bedside table and
squirted several drops on his engorged tip, spreading it in a thick even
coat over his glans and shaft.

		"That should do it for you," I said as I worked it in. "Now
I'll be able to give you long strokes all along your prick. How does that
feel?" I saw him smile as the sensations pervaded his body, and this
confirmed that he delighted in the delicious friction I was applying.

		"You know it feels good, Bro," he said. "Just like I know
that stroking your long skin feels good for you. You know that my getting
you off makes it more exciting for me, too."

		"Yeah, that does feel soooooooooo good," I acknowledged as
I spread a towel between us to catch our eruptions. A drop of excess
lubricant fell from the tip of my foreskin onto the towel as Jim stroked it
forward.

		"You always have a lot of lube, Jack. That's because your
prick's more sensitive than mine. You always beat me to orgasm, too."

		"I'll always make sure you shoot your load, Bro," I assured
him. Because I still had my foreskin, with its many nerve endings that Jim
was missing, I reached the peak earlier than he did. Jim's dry and leathery
glans was also less sensitive than my glossy wet one.

		"I know you will, but now let's get your load off first,"
he said as I felt the fingers of his other hand cup my tightening
scrotum. "I know you're ahead of my, anyway." Jim began taking longer
strokes on my prick, and I felt the foreskin roll down over my flaring rim
before dropping into the deep groove behind it. On the up-stroke, the ring
of foreskin bumped and then compressed my rim, making the nerve endings
sing, before sliding along the taper of my glans to pucker up at the
top. His head was down, and I knew he was watching the rhythmic movement of
my foreskin avidly, the sight adding to his excitement.  With the mutual
stimulation, it didn't take me long to reach the plateau, the point just
before orgasm, and Jim sensed this. I sighed deeply, and Jim spoke again:

		"You're close to the point of no return. I can feel your
tip getting harder inside the skin." He pushed his hips forward until his
blunt, engorged glans was pressing against the nose of mine. "I want you to
shoot all over my tip so I can feel the hot cream, and then you can finish
me off using it as lube." He'd slowed his strokes, knowing that stretching
out the anticipation of the magic moment added to my pleasure.

		"My tip's tingling," I whispered as my eyes closed. "I'm
right on the edge." His stroking had slowed sharply, and he was keeping me
right at the brink as long as he could. I felt large drops of lubricant
crawling up my tube, precursors of the sperm that was to come.

		Now, as I felt my foreskin sliding slowly along my hot hard
helmet, The tingle in my glans grew until I felt it would burst. My prick
ached for the release of orgasm, a delicious ache that permeated my body
until suddenly, a shock wave started deep inside me. Hot sparks of
sensation poured through my glans and it began throbbing hard as the first
stream shot into my urethra, racing up my prick until it slammed through
the lips of my meatus to pour all over his helmet.

		I cried out helplessly as I felt Jim stroking me hard,
adding to my sensations, to draw every possible drop of sperm from my
tortured body. My mind went numb, paralyzed by the sensations, focusing
only on the spasms in my groin. Another hard shuck shook me deep inside,
and my prick throbbed again as it spat another load against his tip. I was
grunting, sobbing, with the intensity of the sensations that wracked my
body as a third hard contraction gripped me deep inside, and I felt another
surge of sperm shooting up my tube. I was helpless in his hands as he
strove to give me the most sensations possible to intensify my climax.

		"Do it!" I heard him urge dimly in the distance as a fourth
load erupted from my throbbing tip against his. The next throb was weaker,
although equally pleasurable, and the next weaker still. Now I was only
oozing, the largest volume of my ejaculations having already been spent. I
was still holding on to Jim's prick, but barely stroking it, just enough to
spread my cream over his waiting nerve endings.

		Now I rolled onto my back as the tension left my body and I
sank into the bliss of the afterglow. Jim moved next to my side and as I
opened my eyes I saw his face above mine as I felt him kiss me lightly on
the lips in a moment of tenderness as gratifying as the orgasm had been.

		"You really had a hot one," he remarked. "I loved the
feeling of your hot cream shooting onto my big tip and you rubbing it in."
I lay still for another minute, and then I felt him handling my softening
prick, running his finger up the underside to milk out the residue.

		"I'll just dab your tip with the towel," he said. "I know
how super-sensitive you are after you've come." I felt the slightest touch
of the rough towel against the nose of my glans, and then Jim's fingers
gently slipped my foreskin up over my now soft prick to envelope the
helmet. Now, as I revived, I began stroking him. I turned to face him once
more, and began working in earnest on his prick.

		"Seems like you're ready to go," I said as I worked the
mixture of Astroglide and my sperm into his tender tissues. I used long
strokes to give him the maximum sensations.

		"I'm so hot from watching you come that it won't take me
long," he said. I knew that the vicarious excitement of handling my
foreskin and bringing on my orgasm was always a powerful turn-on for
him. Now I began twisting my fist on his prick with every up-stroke because
I knew that the area between the scar and the head was a very sensitive
spot for him, and when I bumped his corona with my encircling fingers it
added to his sensations. I also pressed a couple of fingertips into the
triangular groove under the head to massage his gee-string.

		"I know this feels god for you," I said as I swept my fist
toward the base of his prick. "I'll bring you off soon."

		"You always know how to do me perfectly," he whispered. I
saw that his glans had turned a deeper shade of purple, and it had become
firmer between my fingers.

		"I've had lots of practice," I countered as I brought my
fist up again with a twisting stroke that made him gasp. I, too, was
vicariously enjoying his sensations. I slid down on the bed to get a closer
look. "Your prick's just like mine," I added. "It's almost like doing
myself."

		"Yeah, except for the missing skin." Hearing this, I
increased my pace, wanting to flood him with sensations to take his mind
off his deficiency. This had the effect I sought, and I saw his eyes close
as his body tensed and his hands curled into fists. I was cupping his
already tight scrotum, lightly kneading it, to intensify his sensations. My
fingers were pressed against his body behind his balls, and I knew they
would feel the first spasm before my other hand did.

		"AH-AH-AH!" he cried out, as I felt the throb behind his
balls, and I knew that first stream was on its way. Now I worked on his rim
and scar as I placed my mouth over the blunt end of his helmet, probing his
pouting orifice with my tongue. That was another reason I'd slid down on
the bed. I wanted to suck and swallow his juice.

		I heard Jim grunting helplessly as the first hot jet shot
into my mouth, coating my tongue and palate, the odor and taste of chlorine
prominent and mixing with the sweetish taste of the Astroglide. I swallowed
hard as another stream of viscous fluid poured into my mouth and his prick
throbbed in my fist. I felt the blunt nose of his helmet throb against my
tongue as he released another torrent and I gave his prick an extra
twist. His prick throbbed again as the fourth jet erupted from his pouting
orifice and I swallowed again.

		His next jet was weaker, and I knew he'd soon be
finished. His prick felt so good in my mouth as it oozed the last drops
onto my waiting tongue, and I was so glad he was like me, as I admired the
beauty of his shaft and glans, whether they were in front of my eyes or in
my mouth. We were so much alike, and I remembered that, when we were 14,
we'd found another slight difference between us. We'd used an ink pad to
take our fingerprints, and we'd found that they were quite different. His
right index finger, for example, had a loop pattern, while mine was a
whorl.

		"That felt so good," he moaned softly as I ran my fingertip
up his urethra to push out the last drops. His prick began softening
between my fingers and I avidly licked the residue from his slit.

		"We're so much alike, even in our reactions," I said. "Both
our tips get darker when we're about to come, and both our rims flare out
even more."  Now we lay side by side on the bed, enjoying the relaxation
that comes after orgasm, holding hands, reveling in the intimacy. Our
brotherly love was very intense and we were grateful for this blessing.

Continued in Part 2