Date: Wed, 19 Jul 2000 21:25:53 -0700 (PDT)
From: Brew Maxwell <brew_drinker23@yahoo.com>
Subject: Twin Spin, Chapter 9

Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to real
people or events is purely coincidental.  The story contains graphic
descriptions of sex between men, and anyone who is forbidden by law to read
such material must exit the story now.  This story is being posted to the
Nifty Archive for the enjoyment of its readers.  It may not be posted or
distributed by any other media without the written permission of its
author.

My other works in the Nifty Archive include Unusual Christmas and Nick's
Adventures, both in bisexual/high school, First Mate in gay/incest, The
Dancer and Call-Boy Journal in gay/encounters, and From Slave to Houseboy
in gay/authoritarian.

E-mail comments are always welcome.


Twin Spin

Chapter 9

	We flew to Asheville in style.  Private planes are the only way to
travel, I decided.  There was a bar and, best of all, we could smoke as
much as we wanted to.  It only took us about ninety minutes to make the
flight, but the amenities helped make it go by quicker.
	We taxied out to the house and paid a whopping fifty bucks for that
experience.  It turned out the estate was at the very edge of what could be
called metro-Asheville, and we went down some rather empty and lonely
country lanes to get to it.  But the place itself was magnificent.  The
grounds looked like something out of a gardening magazine, and the house
was like a palace.  It was huge, with new furniture mixed among the
countless antiques the decorator or Tom or somebody had gathered.
	The main house was three stories, but it had a cellar and a
ten-foot-ceilinged attic, too.  One part of the renovation had been to wire
the place with fiber-optic cable for TV and computer hookups, so we were
truly state-of-the-art, but with class.  My room was on the third floor,
and I had a study and private bath off it.  The boys each had a room on the
third floor, too, and there was a bathroom and a very large study between
them.  There were three other bedrooms on our floor, each with it's own
bath.  Tom's room and study, a ballroom, and three guest rooms occupied the
second floor.  There was lots and lots and lots of space.  Outside, there
was a beautifully landscaped terrace, a pool, a pool house with cellar, and
two guest houses (also with cellars, of course) that each accommodated
eight people.  The landscaping and gardens were magnificent, and they led
down to a very large lake that was fed by two small rivers.  The views from
all the rooms were wonderful--mountains, broad fields, forests.  Everything
but an ocean.  It wasn't Biltmore, but it was pretty damn close.
	Chuck and I settled in quickly.  He and Calvin were to live in a
four-bedroom stone house on the estate that was built for the estate
manager, originally.  It was decorated perfectly, too.
	Tom and Calvin came home on Friday night.  Tom and I talked about
the boys and about what they'd been up to since I first met them.  He said
he saw their tattoos and liked them.  "Rather tribal" was how he described
them.  I told him they were skin dyes, and he seemed to like that fact.
	Tom worked all day Saturday in town.  That night he took me out to
dinner, and we had a nice evening.  I had spent the day wandering around
the house, looking at all the beautiful things in it.  I had also spent
some time exploring the estate.
	On Sunday Tom and I went fishing in the lake.  We each caught
several beautiful trout and a bass or two, and we cooked those over an open
fire for dinner around five.  At seven Tom flew out of Asheville on his
other private plane.
	I was pretty lonesome that week.  Chuck and Calvin went off for a
little vacation together, and that left me in charge.  It also left me all
alone.  I did a good bit of reading, and I learned a hell of a lot about
how to use the computer system that was all over the house.  I was bored a
good bit, though, and I longed for the boys' return on Sunday.
	They flew home on a commercial airline, and their plane landed at
five o'clock Sunday afternoon.  I hugged each of them, and I started
getting aroused when I pulled them to me.  I had really missed them, and I
had a genuine physical hunger for both of them.  I drove them to their new
home, and they reacted to it with the kind of naive awe I figured they'd
have.  They loved the house, especially their rooms, and they were wild
about the pool and pool house.  Like the one in New Orleans, it was fixed
up for both parties and workouts, and it, too, had a large vinyl mat that
could be spread on the floor.
	We decided to stay home for dinner, so we got steaks and potatoes
and salad stuff out to cook on the grill on the terrace.  The terrace was a
lot more private than the one in New Orleans.  The boys stripped down right
away and went for a swim.  I undressed, too, and got in the pool with them.
All we did was stand around and talk.  I spoke first.
	"I really missed you guys," I said.
	"We missed you, too," Brian said.  "We tried calling every day, but
we never could get through."
	"The main phone switch was off until today," I said.  "Chuck and I
didn't realize we had to turn it on.  I didn't have any reason to call out,
so I never knew the phones weren't working."
	"Jeeze," Kevin said.  "You'd think a place as high-tech as this
house is, the phones would work."  We all laughed.
	"So how was camp," I asked.
	"Fabulous," they said together.
	Kevin: "It was two solid weeks of sex.  You know it had to be
good."
	Brian: "We learned some stuff, though.  It wasn't all squirt."
	"Squirt," I asked.
	"He's talking about coming," Kevin said.  "In fact, we learned how
to orgasm without coming.  Without ejaculating, I mean."
	"What," I asked, incredulously.  That was a new concept for me, and
I wanted more information.
	"Yeah," Brian said.  "You can have an orgasm, in fact lots of
orgasms, without shooting sperm.  It's part of the Taoist sexual kung fu.
That way, you can keep going indefinitely without stopping.  And the
orgasms keep getting harder and more intense.  It's really cool."
	"You guys could have multiple orgasms before you went," I said.
	"That's right.  That's why we were such good candidates for this
method," Kevin said.  "We always shot, though.  Or dribbled.  Now we just
shoot when we want to.  We have complete control over our sexual systems.
I haven't shot in three days, but I've orgasmed maybe two hundred times.  I
did it on the plane all the way across the country."
	"I did, too," Brian said.  "Now we can come whenever we want to
without having to worry about the mess of jizz.  We can also stay hard for
a whole day, if we want to.  We were hard a lot of the time before, but we
always put out pre-cum, and that was messy, too.  Now we can even control
that."
	"What if I want to taste you guys," I asked.
	"No problem," Kevin said.  "We can even make more than we used to.
Like I said, we have complete control."
	"There aren't two other guys in the world like you two," I said.
	"I know," Brian said.  "The head guy, Frank, said the same thing--a
lot.  See, what happened was, the camp thing was only supposed to be a
week, but we thought it was two weeks.  After the first week, we had
learned all the basics, and then a new bunch of guys came in.  Since we
were staying two weeks, Frank taught us a lot of advanced techniques.  He
even offered us jobs as his assistants."
	"What did you tell him?"
	"We said we had commitments and people who counted on us back home.
We meant you and Dad and Chuck."  Brian spoke for both of them.
	I was rather touched at that, and, God knows, I had really missed
them.
	"What do you say we get out and get something to eat," I said.
"You guys must be really hungry."
	They beat me out of the pool.  The air was a little chilly, but we
dried off and decided to stay outside for a while longer.  Even though it
was the end of the first week of June, the air in the mountains was nippy.
We had drinks while the fire got good and hot to cook the steaks, and we
all munched on the snacks I had thrown together.  They weren't
elegant--some cashew nuts and a cheese-and-crackers tray--but the kids
liked them fine.
	Into our second drinks, Kevin asked, "You want to see us come
without shooting?"
	"Yeah," I said.  "I do."
	He and Brian seemed to go into a trance, almost, and they got hard
in a matter of moments.  They both started stroking themselves, something I
didn't believe I'd seen them do before, and in a few minutes they both
started bucking like they were coming.  There wasn't any pre-cum from two
guys who usually gave off a load, and everything about what they were doing
made me know they were having orgasms.  There wasn't any semen, though.
They each "came" five or six times, and they were obviously experiencing
exquisite pleasure, and they weren't even touching themselves for the last
few.  I was hard as a rock, so I started jerking myself off, and on their
third orgasm, I came and shot my load.  I had been jerking off all week as
my only sexual outlet, and my orgasm was very good, indeed.  They didn't
flinch, though, even as they watched me and heard me moan and gasp in
pleasure.  It was truly remarkable.
	They stopped after about six climaxes out of respect and concern
for me, but I could tell they could have gone on and on.  Sex camp had been
a real success.
	"It looked like you were really coming," I said.  "Did you guys
feel it like when you shoot?"
	"Better," Kevin said.  "You feel it all inside, and that's the
best."
	It was time to put the steaks on the grill, so I got up to do it.
They were both still hard as rocks, and they got up, too, to come watch me
and help me.  Kevin orgasmed again as we were cooking the steaks, and I
could tell it was stronger and longer than any he had had before.
	After the food was cooked, we ate at one of the tables on the
terrace.  They told me more about "sex camp."
	"We were the youngest guys there by about ten years," Brian said.
"Most of the guys were in their late twenties or thirties, and there were a
couple who were in their forties, at least."
	"Did you guys feel intimidated," I asked.
	"Not a bit," Brian said.  "Frank loved our asses, and so did the
rest of the guys.  Everybody wanted to fuck around with us."
	I could only imagine.
	The topic of conversation changed to their new home.  I told them
about what I had discovered in the past week, and they were eager to find
out all about it.  We also talked about taking a trip for a few weeks.
They wanted to explore Appalachia, and that sounded pretty good to me.
	After we ate and cleaned up the dishes and such, we adjourned to
the poolhouse.  It was quite cool outside, and none of us wanted to put on
any clothes.  We built a fire in the fireplace, and all three of us
snuggled together under a blanket on the big sofa in front of the
fireplace.
	In about a half hour, Brian got up and went into the house.
	"Where's he going," I asked Kevin.
	"We forgot to bring something down.  He's going to get it."
	Brian returned in a few minutes with a paper bag.
	"You probably thought we forgot all about you, didn't you," Kevin
asked me.
	"What are you talking about," I asked.
	"You probably thought we didn't get you anything.  We did, though.
Several things." Brian opened the bag and pulled out a present.  He handed
it to me.
	"You guys didn't have to buy me anything," I said.
	"Shut up and open the fucking present," Kevin said.  He was teasing
me with his gruffness.
	I opened it, and it was a copy of a book called _The Multi-Orgasmic
Man_.  I opened the cover, and it was inscribed by one of the authors.
	"We met him at camp," Brian said.  "We told him about you, and he
suggested we give you a copy of his book.  He was a really nice guy."
	"Thanks, guys.  Will this help me come dry like you guys can," I
asked.
	"Not by itself, but we'll teach you.  Don't worry," Kevin said.
	Brian handed me another gift.  I opened it and discovered a chain
with two small clamps at either end.  I wasn't sure what it was, so I
asked.
	"It's a set of tit clamps," Kevin said.  "Here, let me put it on
you."  He gently pinched both of my nipples to make them erect, and then he
put a clamp on each of them.  The feeling was pretty intense, and I started
getting hard.  Kevin and Brian didn't have a problem being hard in front of
people who weren't, but I did.  At least a little one.  I decided not to be
embarrassed, though, since they obviously weren't and were delighted by my
reaction.
	"Wow!  It works," Kevin said excitedly.
	"Yeah," Brian said.  "Cool."
	The next gift was something I had seen pictures of but had never
seen in reality.  It was a cock ring that had a detachable ball-separator.
It was black leather, with chrome studs on it, and it was held together by
Velcro.  Kevin started to put it on me, too, when I said,
	"Guys, I really don't want to be the only one dolled up in all the
sex stuff.  I'll look like some kind of bondage and discipline freak, or
something."
	"You won't be the only one," Brian said.  "We bought ourselves a
set, too.  I brought them down, and we'll put them on if you want us to."
	He reached in the bag and tosses a rigging to Kevin.  Kevin put his
on easily.  While Brian was trussing himself up, Kevin put mine on me.  My
cock was still almost fully erect from the nipple clamps, and my balls were
partially retracted.  He pulled down on them to fluff up my sack, and then
he put the cock ring in place.  It felt weird as hell, but it also felt
kind of good.
	My next gift was a butt plug made out of some kind of jelly-like
substance.  It was pretty big, and I wondered if it would fit up my ass.
They each had one, too.
	"Bend over," Kevin said.
	"You're not going to be able to get all of that in my ass, Kevin.
It's too big."
	"It'll fit," he said.
	"How do you know?  That thing could tear me a new asshole."
	"I know it'll fit because it's a mold of our cocks.  Our cocks fit
up your ass, don't they?  Well, this'll fit, too."
	He lubricated it with saliva, and, sure enough, it slid right in.
It didn't feel as good as their cocks felt in me, but it was a pretty good
imitation.  He then serviced Brian, and Brian returned the favor.
	"What about nipple clamps for you guys," I asked.  Before I
finished the question, Brian pulled two sets out of the bag.  They attached
them to themselves, and their cocks reacted a little.
	"Where'd you guys get this stuff," I asked.
	"At the gift shop at camp," Brian answered.  "This is the only kind
of stuff they had there.  We thought it was pretty cool.  Do you like it?"
	"To tell you the truth, I've wanted to try all of this stuff for a
long time.  My choice was always to spend money on this stuff or to go out
drinking.  The drinking always won.  So, yeah, I like it a lot.  Thanks,
guys."
	"Wait.  There's something else," Brian said.
	I couldn't imagine what it could be.  It seemed that all my
erogenous zones were covered.  Then he pulled a small box out of the bag
and gave it to me.  I opened it, and it turned out to be a Monte Blanc
fountain pen, with a 24 karat gold nib.
	"Aw, guys.  You shouldn't have spent that kind of money.  And, yes,
I love the pen.  My father has one, and I've wanted one like it since I was
ten years old.  It's fabulous."
	They both grinned at each other, and I could tell they were pleased
that I was pleased.
	After the gifts were through, we snuggled back on the sofa.  One
thing led to another, of course, and pretty soon we were hard and ready for
action.  We ended up sucking each other off in a daisy chain, and I came in
large quantities.  Neither of them produced a drop, which was strange to
me.  They enjoyed it, though; that I could certainly tell.
	We had a drink of scotch to wash the taste of dick out of our
mouths.  Then, after a round of hand jobs, we went to bed.  I slept with
them in Kevin's bed, and we snuggled together like three puppies who had
just been reunited.  It was wonderful, and I slept like a log.

	Chuck was still on vacation, so the next morning I cooked breakfast
for all of us.  I scrambled a dozen eggs, fried a pound of bacon, and made
half a loaf of toast.  It was barely enough.
	After we cleaned up from breakfast, the guys said they wanted to
see their new home.  I suggested we put on jeans, at least, in case we ran
into some of the other people who might be working around the place.  They
reluctantly agreed, and then only if we all wore our cock rings, and the
three of us set out around nine.  There was a jeep on the property, and we
took it.  I drove, since I was experienced with where to go.  We drove all
around the estate.  It was a beautiful morning, not too hot but not really
cold, either, and we saw everything there was to see.  The cock rings
accentuated their crotch bulges and gave me one for the first time that
could be noticed.  I kind of liked the feeling.
	When we got to a waterfall in one of the streams that ran through
the property, they couldn't resist going into it.  We stripped off our
jeans and cock rings and played in the fall for over an hour.  Kevin was
the first to find a way down the fall by sliding on the smooth rock that
lined it, and Brian and I joined in his fun.
	We finally tired of that and went to the small beach that lined the
stream to dry off and relax.  We smoked cigarettes and talked about the
place.  The boys loved their new home.  They were excited about being in
the mountains and about the gorgeous scenery all around us.
	"This is better than any place I've ever seen," Kevin said.
	"I know," Brian said.  "Dad really did okay when he bought this
place.  I wonder if there are any fish in this river."
	"Hell, yes," we heard a voice behind us say.  "There are plenty of
fish in every piece of water on this place."
	We all turned abruptly toward the voice.  He had startled us.
	"Who are you," Kevin asked rather aggressively, "and what are you
doing here."  The figure we saw was a young man in his early twenties,
dressed in jeans and a light blue work shirt.  He had longish blond hair, a
very nice-looking face, and a tallish frame.
	"I'm Tim Mitchell," he said in a Southern drawl, "and I work for
Mr. Finch, who owns this place.  Who the fuck are you, and what the fuck
are you doing here?"
	"I'm Kevin Finch."
	"And I'm Brian Finch."
	There was a long pause.
	"And this is our friend John Prescott," Kevin said.  "We all live
here."
	"Well, Jesus Christ," Tim said.  "Haven't I fucked up?"
	The way he said it was comical, and all three of us laughed.
	"You haven't fucked up, Tim," Brian said.  "You were protecting our
interests, and we appreciate that."  By then Kevin and Brian were on their
feet, buck naked, of course, and they shook Tim's hand.  I reluctantly got
up and did the same.  I wasn't as comfortable as they were being naked
around strangers who were clothed.
	Tim didn't quite know how to react.  The sight of Brian and Kevin
together fully clothed was pretty intimidating, but naked it was
awe-inspiring.  Tim didn't know where to look: faces, bodies, tattoos,
nipple rings, cocks?  Tim settled on their cocks, and I noticed the bulge
in his jeans start to grow.
	"Goddamn, guys," he said, obviously embarrassed, "I knew Mr. Finch
had kids, but I didn't know they were twins.  I would never have said
. . ."
	"Tim," I said, "Brian meant what he said.  You were protecting
their interests.  It's all right, man.  Relax."
	"Yeah, Tim, relax," Kevin said.  "We just spent about an hour in
the water, and we're beat.  We were just resting on the beach here."
	"Would you feel more comfortable if we put our pants on," Brian
asked.
	"Hell, that's all right," Tim said.  "I ain't uncomfortable."  I
suspected he wanted to take in as much of the boys as he could.
	"Why don't you get naked and join us," Kevin said.  I saw the
twinkle in his eye and knew that he had noticed Tim's hard-on.
	"No, that's all right," Tim said.  Then, after a pause, "Maybe
later."
	"You mean after your boner goes down," Kevin asked.
	Tim turned bright red and didn't know what to say.
	"These two are assholes, Tim," I said.  "Ignore them."  Tim just
grinned in embarrassment, still saying nothing.
	"Come on," I said.  "Take a load off for a while."
	All four of us moved back down to the beach .
	"God, I wish I had a beer," Kevin said, after we were settled.  The
sun was getting hot, and I thought I could use one myself.
	"Yeah, me, too," Brian said.
	After a long pause in the conversation, Tim said, "If you boys want
a beer, I got some.  In fact, I got a cooler full in the truck.  I picked
them up early this morning for a little party I'm going to tonight, but, if
y'all promise not to tell your daddy, we could pop a few right now."
	"Bring 'em on," Kevin said.  "Our dad wouldn't care.  On second
though, yeah, he would.  He'd say, 'Good work, Tim.  My boys were thirsty,
and you took care of them.'  Our dad ain't no hard-ass."
	"I can vouch for that," I said.
	"Well, okay, then.  Let's get some beers," Tim said.  He and Kevin
went to the truck and got the cooler.  There must have been two cases of
beer in it.
	We each got a beer, and we lay down on the grass, propping
ourselves up on our sides.  Tim kept stealing looks at the boys' cocks, and
every once in a while, he would wet his lips.  I lit a cigarette and
offered one to Tim.  He took it.
	"Thanks," he said.  "I smoked my last one about an hour ago.  I was
wondering if any of you guys smoked."
	"We all smoke," Kevin said, lighting up.
	We made small talk for a while, as we drank our beers.  The boys
were situated in a way that their cocks draped down in front of them, and
they were practically works of art.  They realized Tim was trying his
damnedest not to stare openly at them, and they loved the attention they
were getting.  I knew that Tim was probably gay, but they didn't.
	Tim noticed their nipple rings and asked about them.
	"They make your nipple more sensitive," Brian said.  "Like for sex.
When we first got 'em, we stayed half-hard all the time.  If you're wearing
a tight tee shirt and have a pack of smokes in the pocket, it feels really
good."
	Tim was as red as the box of Marlboros on the ground in front of
him.  I could tell that was making him uncomfortable, but it was also
turning his cock into a telephone pole.
	"Nipple rings are really popular in California.  We went to a
beach, and just about every guy, and quite a few girls, had them.  Kevin
and I felt right at home."
	"How'd you know the girls had 'em," Tim asked.
	"It was a nude beach.  Everybody was buck naked," Brian said.
"People would come up to you and fiddle with your nipple ring, and, of
course, you'd pop a boner on the spot.  You'd see guys all over the place
packing rods.  It was really cool."
	Kevin said, "And we saw some guys there who had rings through their
cocks."
	"Are you shittin' me," Tim asked.
	"No, man.  Rings three or four times the size of ours, only they
were through their piss slits and out the bottoms of their cocks.  They're
called Prince Alberts.  It's a kind of piercing.  We saw two guys walking
down the beach who had a chain connecting them by the rings through their
cocks."  Kevin seemed a bit enthusiastic.
	"Why," Tim asked.
	"I guess it feels good," Kevin said.
	We lay on the grass in silence for a few minutes.  I could tell Tim
was processing that new information, or trying to, at least.
	"Fellas, I got some work I've got to get done.  Y'all want another
beer before I leave," Tim asked.  His jeans were old and badly worn, and
the wetness from his pre-cum was clearly evident.
	We each got another beer from the cooler.  Tim stood up to leave,
and we could all see his hard-on through his jeans.  He held his beer
bottle in front of himself to hide it as best he could, but it was still
pretty obvious.
	"I'll guess I'll be seeing you guys around here.  I'm one of the
groundskeepers, so I'm here five days a week.  Nice to meet all of you.
Y'all won't be offended if I get you confused, will ya?"
	"Naw," they said in unison.
	When Tim had left, Kevin was the first to speak.
	"I'll bet that fuckers jerkin' off right this second.  Did y'all
see his hard-on?"
	"Yeah," Brian said.  "I saw it.  I was a little ashamed of myself
for being so flagrant with my cock, but I couldn't help it."
	"He probably loved it," I said.  Then I asked them if the stories
about the nude beach were true.
	"Not exactly," Brian said.  "But there are a lot of pierced nipples
in California."
	"What about the guys with pierced cocks," I asked.
	"There were a couple of guys at camp that had them," Kevin said.
	"Do you guys plan to keep your nipple rings," I asked.
	"Probably not forever," Brian said.  "We don't really need them
anymore.  I mean, we can stay half-hard all the time without them."
	We spent the rest of the morning at the stream.  Most of the time
we lay on the bank and talked, but we spent a pretty good amount of time in
the water, as well.
	After lunch, I went with Kevin and Brian into town to check out the
place.  The first place they wanted to see was the high school they would
be going to.  They had called ahead to see if they needed an appointment to
register, but they didn't.  We went there and signed them up for school.
They had unofficial copies of their records from their old school, and the
guidance counselor who registered them was pretty impressed by their grades
and courses. They had had the foresight to have their AP scores sent to the
new school, and that impressed her, too, even though they hadn't arrived
yet.
	Kevin asked about football, and the counselor's warm smile
vanished.
	"What's the matter," he asked.  "Did I say something I shouldn't
have?"
	"Well, you'll have to talk with Coach Tate to see what he says, but
I'm afraid it isn't too promising for next year, boys.  Coach usually has
his team picked by the end of spring practice, and he works them all summer
as a unit."
	"We were afraid of that," Brian said.  "We're both really good, but
we understand he has to get the team organized.  Our other school was
pretty small compared to this one, so new guys could walk on when school
started."
	"Well, talk to him, though," she said.  "He might be looking for
some more players."  Her smile returned.
	"Is he here now," they asked in unison.
	"I think so.  Let me check."  She picked up a phone and dialed the
coach's extension.  She explained what she wanted in a tone that was
unusually deferential.  I suspected that guy must be some kind of ogre.
	When she hung up, she had a sorrowful look on her face.
	"He said for you boys to look him up in September, after school
starts.  He said he has his team in place, though."
	They both nodded, but I could tell they weren't happy about the
situation.  They had expected it, but they had both held out hope it
wouldn't work out that way.
	"What about other sports," Kevin asked.  "Is there a way for us to
make any teams this year?"
	"What else do y'all play," the counselor asked.
	"Pretty much anything," Kevin answered.  "Basketball isn't our
strongest sport, but track, baseball, tennis, swimming.  You name it."
	"What about wrestling," she asked.
	"We've never wrestled," Brian said, "but I've always wanted to."
	"Well, my husband's the wrestling coach, and I know he'd like you
guys.  I'll tell him you might be interested.  Nothing's going on this
summer, of course, but they'll start their practices in November.  You both
have him for AP Physics, so you'll all know one another by then."
	"Cool," they said in one voice.
	They finished the rest of their business, and the counselor got up
to walk us to the hall.  By coincidence, her husband was waiting for her in
the guidance office reception area.  She introduced us to her husband.  He
wasn't sure who I was, but he introduced himself as Bill Thompson to me as
we shook hands.
	"Bill, these boys are maybe interested in wrestling this year," she
said.
	"Is that right?  Have y'all wrestled before?"
	"No, sir.  No, coach."  They said that simultaneously, so I
couldn't tell who had said what.
	"That's not that big a problem, really.  I just like to know what
I'm dealing with, as far as experience goes."
	He grabbed both boys by the shoulder and kind of squeezed.  They
both flexed, and I could see a look of surprise come over his face.
	"Do you boys work out," he asked.
	"Yes, sir.  Yes, coach."
	"What do you do?"
	Kevin explained their swimming and running regimen, and Brian told
him about their weight workouts.
	"I want you two to work as hard as you can this summer, you hear?
How much do y'all weigh?"
	Kevin looked at Brian with an expression that said he didn't know.
Brian said, "One sixty."
	"Both of you?"
	"Yes, sir," they answered together.
	He laughed a little.  "Well, it would be good if you could get up
to one seventy.  But it's got to be all muscle.  No fat."
	"Yes, coach," they said in unison.  He grinned the grin of a man
who really likes kids and cares about them.  He could tell they were
genuinely enthusiastic, and it was obvious he liked them.  Little did he
know with what kind of zeal and determination they would approach the task
of gaining ten pounds of muscle.
	"Are you their brother," he asked me.
	"No.  I work for their father.  He's out of town on business, and
he wanted me to kind of keep an eye on them for him."
	"Smart man," Coach said.  Then to his wife, "Are you about ready?
The real estate man said to meet him at two."
	"Let's go, guys," I said.  They both shook hands with Coach
Thompson, thanked his wife again, and we left the office.  Outside, they
were like two kids on Christmas morning.  They were so excited, I had to
tell them to lower their voices.
	"Sorry, J," they said together.
	Once in the car, I asked, "You guys aren't disappointed about not
getting to play football?"
	"We're disappointed," Kevin said, "but we'll get over it.  We're
excited about wrestling, now."
	We drove around for awhile.  Asheville is a beautiful city, and we
drove up and down the hills and mountains, looking at everything there was
to see.  We passed a shopping mall, and they wanted to stop.
	"We want to buy some books on wrestling," Brian said for both of
them.
	The mall had two chain bookstores, and between them they found six
books on wrestling and two on physical training.  The quest was on.

	We stayed in town and had dinner at Applebee's around eight.  Both
kids ate huge meals, as usual.  During dinner they talked of how they were
going to approach the summer.  After much discussion, some of which
included me for opinions and advice, they decided they would devote two
hours every day to working out and building themselves up.  They would
continue their morning swim, which took them about thirty minutes, and that
would be followed by a thirty-minute run.  After breakfast, they would work
out with weights for an hour.  Every day.
	"What about the trips we talked about?  Don't you still want to do
some camping and hiking and shit?"
	"Yeah," they said as one.  Then Brian continued, "This is just our
'home' schedule.  On the road, we'll try to find places to work out.  If we
can't, we can always do push-ups."
	"J, we've been pretty lax about our workouts," Kevin said.  "We
haven't pumped iron consistently since before exams.  I'm surprised we
haven't started getting flabby."
	"Kevin," I said, "you've only been out of school two weeks.  You're
not going to turn middle-aged in that amount of time.  You're built like
fucking Greek gods.  You saw how Tim reacted to you this morning.  You guys
don't need to be too hard on yourselves."
	"You've got to be hard to stay hard," Kevin said, no doubt echoing
some coach from their past.
	During the pause, all three of us lit cigarettes.  I noticed they
weren't concerned about not smoking during their training period.
	"Speaking of Tim," Kevin said, "he invited us to a party tonight."
	"When," Brian asked.
	"When he and I went to get the beer off his truck.  He said it was
at his house."
	"Where does he live," Brian asked.
	"How the hell do I know," Kevin said, a bit annoyed at the
question.
	"Well, if you don't know where he lives, how can we go to the
party?"  Brian had a point.
	"Look up his address in the phone book.  Duh."
	"Yeah, but phone books are listed by last name.  We can't look up
all the Tims in Asheville.  It's a small town, but not that small."
	"His last name is Mitchell," Kevin said.  "He's Tim Mitchell.
That's the way he introduced himself to us."
	"Well, don't just sit there.  Go call.  Or go find his address,"
Brian said.  Then, "Is that okay with you, J?  Do you want to go to a party
at Tim's?"
	"Who has a party on Monday night," I asked.
	"Good point," Brian said.
	Kevin got up to go to the pay phone that was in the hall outside
the men's room.  I could see him from where we sat.  He looked up a number
and placed a call.  I could see him talking, but, obviously, I couldn't
hear what he was saying.  He finished the call and came back to the table.
	"What's up," Brian asked.
	"Well, I talked to Tim, and he still wants us to come to the party.
But it isn't at his house."
	"Where is it," Brian asked.  "Did he tell you?"
	"Well, it kinda is at his house," Kevin said.
	"Make up your fucking mind," Brian said.  It appeared that the
newness of my presence among them was wearing off, and they were starting
to snap at each other the way most brothers do.
	"Okay.  Okay.  Tim lives in an apartment complex, and they have a
recreation room and a pool.  It's there."
	"Do you have an address," I asked.
	"Yeah.  It's only about six blocks from here.  Oh, and he said it
would be an all-boy party.  Is Tim gay, do you think?"
	"Judging from the boner he popped when he saw the three of us this
morning, I'd say he is," Brian offered.
	"What do you think, J," Kevin asked.
	"I don't know the guy, but I think Brian's analysis is pretty close
to the target.  Does it bother you if he is?"
	"Hell, no.  I'm just curious, is all.  So, do you want to go or
not?  If we go, we're supposed to bring some cold beer and some peanuts or
something like that."
	"What time does it start," I asked.
	"There were some guys already there," Kevin said.  "So I guess,
now."
	"Let's go for at least a little while," Brian suggested.
	"That's fine with me," I said.  We paid our check and left.  On the
way, we stopped at a supermarket and bought three six-packs and a couple of
cans of cashew nuts.  The apartment complex consisted of two buildings with
four apartments each, and the recreation room was a large garage that had
been converted into a place for parties.  There was a small room with
washing machines and dryers, too, and a couple of restrooms.  It was to the
back of the property, apparently approachable from an alley or back street.
The pool was pretty nice, and there were a couple of table-and-chair sets
and some lounges around the pool.  Nobody was outside when we got there, so
we went straight into the rec room.  Tim saw us come in and came over to
shake hands.  He told us where to put the beer and nuts, and, when we came
back, he introduced us to some of his friends.  There were about fifteen
other guys there, and Tim knew them all.  There were six guys who seemed to
be couples, but everybody else was on his own.  They were all young, but
they all had a kind of workingman look to them.  It was hard to define, but
their hair wasn't coifed like a lot of gay guys' hair is, and they all
seemed to have pretty rough hands when I shook them.  They all seemed real
interested in Kevin and Brian.
	Tim introduced us to a guy named Pete, who, he said, was his
roommate.  Pete had his younger brother with him, too.  His name was Lloyd,
and he appeared to be about the boys' age.  I struck up a conversation with
Pete, and the kids talked to Lloyd.
	After a few minutes, they drifted off to look at the CD's that were
stacked on a table next to a portable stereo.  Then they sat in a small
conversation grouping of a loveseat and a chair.  Kevin sat in the chair,
and Brian and Lloyd sat in the loveseat.  I was facing them, so I watched
out of the corner of my eye what they were doing as I continued talking
with Pete about the hunting and fishing opportunities in the area.  Lloyd
looked like he was getting pretty animated, and the boys were loving it.
In a few minutes, he put his hand on Brian's thigh and kept on talking.
Brian either didn't notice or didn't care because he made no move to brush
it off.
	They got up and walked toward us.
	"J, guess what," Brian said.  "Lloyd just graduated from Asheville
High, and he was on the wrestling team for four years.  He knows Coach
Thompson real well, and he says he's a hell of a nice guy and a great
coach."
	Before I could say anything, Pete asked, "Are y'all wrestlers?"
	"We want to be," Kevin said.
	"Yeah.  We've played football until this year, but it looks like
there's a lock on the team.  We're gonna go out for wrestling, baseball,
and track," Brian continued.
	"Baseball *or* track," Lloyd corrected.  "You can't play both.  Not
at AHS."
	"We might be able to," Kevin said and gently punched Brian on the
arm.  Brian grinned, and then the rest of us caught on to the age-old trick
of twins.
	"I wrestled for Coach Thompson, too," Pete said.
	"Really," the boys said in unison.  "Wow!"
	"We don't know anything about it," Kevin started.  "But we bought
some books today, and we figured we could learn some of the basic moves,
maybe, by just reading and practicing," Brian continued.
	"Or I could show you some stuff," Lloyd said.
	"Really?  Would you," Kevin asked.
	"Sure."
	"And I'll help my little brother out with the hard stuff," Pete
said.
	In the next sentence, Brian and Kevin alternated words: "Great!
That would be fan fucking tastic."  Pete, Lloyd, and I laughed, but they
didn't see anything as being funny.
	As it turned out, Pete had, the week before, gone to work for Tom
Finch's company as a systems engineer.  Lloyd had just graduated and was
taking the summer off-for the last time before starting college at UNC in
Asheville.  Pete had gone there, too, and had gotten his master's in
computer science at the UNC campus in Chapel Hill.  These were higher
rollers than I had at first thought.
	"I've got plenty of time to work with you guys," Lloyd said.  "I'm
staying at Pete's place this summer because my mom's with our sister in
Boise, Idaho.  She just had a baby--her fourth--and she needs the help."
	"What about your dad," Kevin asked.
	"Aw, he's been dead for years.  He died when I was four," Lloyd
said.
	I wondered about the sleeping arrangements, but, of course, I
didn't ask.  I later learned they had a two-bedroom apartment and that
Lloyd slept on a cot in Pete's room.  Tim and Pete really were just
roommates.  They were both gay and had once been lovers, but now they were
just best friends and roommates.  It turned out Lloyd was gay, too, or bi,
or just "horny for cock" some of the time.  Who knew?
	By then several more guys had joined the party, and some of the
guys who were once inside were now outside by the pool.  We decided to join
them, after getting another round of beers.
	Once outside, Brian, Kevin, and I lit up cigarettes.  Pete smoked,
too, so he joined us.  He offered a cigarette to Lloyd, but he hesitated.
	"Go ahead and take one.  I know you smoke, and I know you want
one."
	"How do you know I smoke," Lloyd asked.
	"Oh, for Christ sake, Lloyd.  We live in the same room.  I smell
smoke when I come home from work, and I know Tim hasn't been there.  Smoke
if you want to.  Who gives a fuck?"
	Lloyd pulled a box of Marlboro Reds from the pocket of his khakis
and lit up.
	"This is kind of liberating, you know," he said.
	"How long have you been smoking," Pete asked his brother.
	"Since the eighth grade, more or less.  Mostly more."  The brothers
laughed and Pete gave Lloyd a nuggie.  "Does Mom know?"
	"Yes.  She knows.  We've talked about it several times.  She's
wondered why you haven't just come out and smoked."
	"What else does she know," Lloyd asked with considerable
apprehension.
	"Pretty much everything.  About both of us."
	"Oh, shit," Lloyd said.
	"And she doesn't care.  We're her boys, after all."
	That was getting pretty heavy.  Brian and Kevin were listening
intently, I suppose trying to figure out what the hell was going on.  Kevin
was the first to speak.
	"Some guys are in the water.  I'm going for a swim.  You coming,"
meaning Brian.
	"Yeah.  Let's all get in."
	"Good idea," Lloyd said.  Pete and I agreed.
	Two of the guys in the pool were in their underwear--boxer
shorts--and two were nude.  Since my guys weren't wearing underwear, I knew
what they'd do.  I decided to get naked with them.  Pete and Lloyd watched
us undress, and they, too, went nude.
	I hadn't thought there was much resemblance between Pete and Lloyd
with their clothes on, but, once naked, they looked a great deal alike.
They were both pretty hairy, and they both had very short dicks.  So short,
in fact, that you could see just the heads above their ample pubic bushes.
Even I felt big, by comparison.  They both looked hungrily at Brian and
Kevin, both for their physiques and their cocks.
	Once in the water, Pete said, "You boys are really built.  You've
worked out, haven't you?"
	"Yeah," they said together.
	Pete noticed their nipple rings and said, "The rings are going to
have to go, if you guys wrestle.  I got one of those things when I was a
senior, and it got nearly torn out of me in the first practice after I got
it.  Nipple rings are great, but they're a real liability for wrestlers.
Can you take them out?"
	"No problem," they said in unison.  Without consultation, they both
unscrewed the little ball on one end and took them out.  I don't know what
they did with them, but they were gone forever from that point on.
	"God, I love your tattoos," Lloyd said.
	"Thanks," they said.
	"Did you notice mine?"
	Frankly, none of us had.  It was on his ankle, and it was a small
eagle.
	"I got this the day I turned twenty-one."  Lloyd thought for a
minute.  "Or at least the day my fake ID said I turned twenty-one.  Say,
how old are you guys, anyway?"
	They looked at each other and then said, "Eighteen."
	"They let you get tattooed at eighteen in New Orleans," Pete asked.
	"They didn't ask, and we didn't tell," Brian said.  "Besides, we
had fake ID that said we were twenty-two."
	"I had some pretty good fake ID when I was eighteen," Pete said.
"Only it said I was twenty.  Duh."
	"We got some North Carolina fake ID in San Francisco last week,"
Kevin said.  "We're still only twenty-two, though."  We all laughed.
	"It was so cool," Brian said.  "We went into a place that
advertised fakes from any state or country in North America.  We got some
for California, New York, Illinois, and all the states around here.  You
never can tell."  We laughed again.
	It was pretty chilly outside, but I had assumed we'd warm up in the
water.  In fact, the opposite happened, and we got cold.  We got out of the
pool and dried off with some towels Pete got for us.
	"Let's go inside," Pete said.  We all agreed and started toward the
rec room.
	"No, I meant our apartment," he said.
	We went inside.  They had half of the bottom floor of the building
on the left.  The apartment was nice enough, but it was obviously the haunt
of bachelors who didn't have much of a flair for decorating.  Pete asked if
anybody wanted a drink, and we all did.  He poured scotch for all five of
us.  We were still naked, but it was much warmer in the apartment than it
had been outside.  Tim and Lloyd kept stealing glances at the twins and
their cocks.
	"When can you give us some help with our wrestling," Kevin asked
Lloyd.
	"Hell, we can start tomorrow, if you want."
	"Yeah, tomorrow's good.  Can you come out to our house?  We've got
a great little gym, a pool.  Hell, we even have a mat," Brian said.
	"Sure," Lloyd said.  "Where do y'all live."
	Kevin told him, and his eyes got big.  He had been there, he said,
with Tim one Saturday a couple of weeks before.  Tim had forgotten
something he needed, so Lloyd had taken the ride with him to get it.
	"What time," Lloyd asked.
	"Any time is good.  We get up pretty early."  Brian spoke for them
that time.
	"Why don't we say around ten o'clock.  Maybe a little later," Lloyd
said.
	"Cool," my boys said together.
	After another drink and a good bit more small talk, Pete said he
had to be at work early for a meeting.  He excused himself and went to bed.
The boys and I said we had to be getting home, too.  When we went outside
to get our clothes and to say good night to Tim, we realized the
temperature had dropped.  Nobody was outside, and the mountain air made us
shiver.  We dressed hurriedly, said our good nights, and went home.
	I drove home that night, and the boys talked a blue streak about
wrestling.
	"Those guys were really nice, weren't they," Brian asked.
	"Yeah.  Lloyd is going to be our first friend in North Carolina.
Or should we count Tim as our first friend?"  Kevin apparently needed to
sort out their relationships.
	"What difference does it make," Brian asked.  "They're both our
friends."
	"I know, but . . . .Oh, never mind."
	"J, do you think those guys at the party were gay," Kevin asked,
after a pause.
	"I don't know.  I didn't see any sex going on, did you?"
	"No," he said.  "But they sure were looking at us.  Like they had
sex on their minds, I mean."
	"I thought the same thing," Brian said.  "Even Tim and Lloyd.
Maybe especially Tim and Lloyd."
	"I guess we'll find out tomorrow about Lloyd," Kevin said.  "I
mean, we'll be all over each other, I bet, and we'll know if he gets hard."
	"That won't tell you a goddamn thing," Brian said.  "Guys get hard
all the time, especially wrestling."
	"How do you know," Kevin asked.
	"Jason Smiley told me.  He wrestled for Colton.  He said he got
hard at every practice and every meet."
	"You never told me that," Kevin said, almost offended at his
brother's omission.
	"I'm telling you now.  It slipped my mind until just now."
	We rode the rest of the way home in silence.  I wanted to smoke, so
I opened my window a little.  The cold night air rushed in.  It felt great
to me, but the two New Orleans kids didn't know what to make of it.  Brian
wondered out loud if summer ever came to that place.  I laughed, and he
punched me on the arm.