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Twins Ch. 01

Category: Gay Male
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Some say that rain is a sign of peace when a loved one passes on, but on this day it simply steeped the sadness that comes with an untimely death. The dark clouds loomed above like a spiritual ceiling and occasional claps of thunder jostled the mourning family. Because it was late summer, many people were on vacation. Many close friends and even a fair amount of the family were not there.

Richard was beside himself. His wife of 13 years, his best friend, was gone in an instant. Emily was a wonderful, caring person and made friends everywhere she went. People loved her fresh, carefree style and her sense of humor was outstanding. She was one of those people you wish you could clone and seed the world. But his beloved flower was not meant to live to a ripe age. Fate had other plans for her, quick and painless plans on a lonely stretch of road.

Emily was an attorney but did a tremendous amount of charity work all over the world. She was involved in numerous organizations, both in a legal capacity and as a simple laborer. She gave freely of her time and money, and Richard often helped her. They never had children, so they did what they could to help those that did. Family-oriented charities topped their list of favorable causes.

Late one evening after a charity dinner, Emily was on her way home alone. She was driving through a remote area outside Cheyenne when the accident happened. Apparently an animal jumped in front of her car based on the skid marks. She swerved two times and a portion of the steering system in the car failed, sending her into a stand of trees. Despite the fact that she was wearing a seat belt and the air bag deployed, the sudden shock of impact was too much for her body and her neck was broken, the neck that bridged a truly beautiful mind and a pure heart.

As the evening wore on the visitors departed, shaking Richard’s hand, repeating the condolences, holding back genuine tears of the horrible loss he sustained. She was irreplaceable and we all knew it. He could spend a thousand years on this planet and never find her equal, his friend, his true companion. It was devastating to watch, and anyone that knew them knew that he’d probably spend the remainder of his days alone. Maybe it was that thought that added to the tragedy. The only thing for which we could manage thanks was that it was almost guaranteed that she died within a few seconds.

I had flown in the night before and decided to stay in a nearby hotel because 3 or 4 out of town guests were already staying at Richard’s house. But I had checked out and had my things in the car outside, ready to take them over tonight. A few people remained behind tonight but I decided to take a week off and help him with the unpleasantries of dealing with the many details that must be attended. I told him that I would manage all of the phone calls, forms, and other things that would require a considerable amount of time. He uneasily agreed but knew full well it was best for someone else to work through it.

After the last guests left the funeral home, I followed Richard back to his house and put my things away in one of the spare bedrooms. I came downstairs and Richard was on the covered porch, a glass of wine and a half-filled bottle in front of him. The rain continued to fall, a random pattern of high pitched tinkling sounds as it found the metal on the roof above us. I sat down next to him and said nothing for the next 45 minutes.

Aunt Trudy broke the silence by quietly walking over to Richard and kissing him on the cheek. She wrapped her arms gently around him and began to softly sob. Not long afterwards we were together in an embrace, barely audibly mourning the loss of our lover, our niece, our friend. A part of me died that moment; I realize now that is when I finally accepted her death. That moment on the porch, that moment when the three of us were together, I finally felt the final sting and knew she wasn’t coming back. Her spirit’s finger touched our lips and quieted the hope that any of us would ever see her again.

By the day of the funeral I think I was almost out of tears. Richard was in a daze as were so many others as we laid her to rest. Friends and family bid their farewells and then the true loneliness began. I knew that this time with Rich was going to have to be used not only to tend to family legal matters, but to gage for myself how well he was doing and how well he was going to do. I knew my twin brother better than anyone, and many of his secrets were our secrets, his thoughts and feelings mixed with mine. It was true what they say about twins having a private communication channel that no one else knew, no one else could ever understand. We were not only twins but very close friends and it had always been that way.

Mom and Dad, long since gone, were the only living souls that could tell us one from another. We had maintained nearly identical body builds through the years because we had had similar interests in fitness activities. Both of us were avid rock climbers and bikers, so we had stayed in shape and had worked the same muscles to do so, which nearly perfected the similarity.

Even at this later stage in life, at 34, we were totally alike. People had consoled me at the funeral and I graciously accepted their condolences, not wanting to clumsily tell them they were talking to the wrong person. And so it went with Rich and me as it had nearly always been, one for the other, supportive, and loving, one person with two halves, from our embryonic mitosis to this very day. I continually wished I could sap half of his pain and meld with him to lessen his burden. And it went without saying that we both knew what I thinking and feeling. Rich could feel my empathy from across the room or across the state.

By late afternoon all of the family and friends had departed. We were alone in the house with each other and ourselves, with our memories and the pangs of hurt and pain that swelled and ebbed with the passing minutes and hours. I poured each of us a glass of wine and we went out on the porch. Again we sat in silence for a while, this time trying to process what we were going to do the next days that I was going to be around.

“I like this red. It’s a good red, not too expensive”, Rich said. “Emily was the wine connoisseur; I just went along for the ride. She picked ’em and I drank ’em.” For the first time in three days a wry smile cracked on his lips and almost instantly his eyes welled with tears.

“What the fuck and I going to do without her, Ed?” he said through a growing sob. “I just don’t know what I am going to do with the rest of my life, Ed. I don’t know if I can get through this. I just don’t know if I can.” He held his head in his hands and cried out loud. I knew my own experience being counseled, that sometimes just releasing the pain is the best thing a person can do to begin to heal. Rich began to let go, to really fall apart, but it was normal, it was expected, and in an unfortunate way it was necessary. My best action at this time, I reasoned, was none; just be. Just be there, just be around.

And so I did.

I went to bed before Rich to make sure I was awake before he was. I whipped up some breakfast and put it out on the table hoping the smell would wake him up before too long. I waited a few minutes and called for him a few times, but no answer. As I walked upstairs towards his bedroom the door was wide open and from the angle in the hall I could see the bed, and a thin sheet covering Rich. He was still asleep and I wanted him to get his rest, so I put the food into the oven to keep it warm and read the paper until he awoke.

About 15 minutes later Rich came down the steps. “Hey bro”, he said as he came into the kitchen. “Why’d you let me sleep so long? You’re usually the one I’m waking up.”

“I made us some breakfast, it’s in the oven. I’ll get it out.” I put the plates out on the table,

As we ate I couldn’t help but wonder how I was going to get him out of the house while I made the necessary phone calls. “Rich, why don’t you go for a bike ride today? It looks like the rain has finally let up. It might be muddy on the trail, but that never stopped you before.”

“I think you’re right, Ed”, he said. “I think I am going to do exactly that, go for a ride. I need to get out on the trail. It’ll do me good.”

We finished breakfast and Rich went upstairs to get ready to hit the road. We were both avid bikers, so I had packed a few pairs of bike shorts just in case we decided to go for a ride together. A few minutes later Rich appeared, wearing padded shorts and carrying his helmet. “I’ll see you in about 2 hours”, he said.

“OK, Rich. Be careful.”

“You know the credo of the trail rider: You didn’t ride if you don’t come back muddy and bloody.”

A real smile lit up his face. It was the first in days, and I began to feel in my heart that things were somehow going to get better. We were going to get through this awful time together. Together in the womb, together in youth, together as adults. Together as friends.

Seconds after I watched him ride away, I made a list of everyone I had to call and began working through the list. I wanted to get the majority of these out of the way today because I didn’t want this to drag on. The plan was for me to stay for about a week, but that was flexible on my part and his. Both of us were self-employed and this was not an exceptionally busy time of the year for either of us. Fortunately both of us were financially secure, so taking off a week or two at a clip for both of us was no big deal.

Two hours and five minutes later I heard the crumble of gravel as he rode into the garage. He came through the living room covered head to toe in specks of dark mud and the requisite gash on his left calf. “It was a good ride, bro. We’ll have to do that one later this week. I cut in some new trails about a mile from here. They’re muddy as hell, steep, and dangerous, just like I like ’em.” He wasn’t kidding. He was the more adventurous of the twins, there is no mistaking that. In his sophomore year of college he and some friends were on a mountain biking trip and he fractured his collarbone and broke his right arm in two places after someone dared him to do a vertical drop. They were kidding, he was serious, and about 45 minutes later he was on a stretcher getting air lifted out of the valley.

I enjoyed biking and even did some things other would consider “extreme”, but nothing to that extent. Rich was a madman on a bike; he was good at it and he loved it. It had been a passion of his for almost 20 years. As he stood in the living room I could make out the unmistakable outline of his member against the tight fabric and it made me recall one of my favorite masturbation indulgences. Immediately after biking, still sweaty from the trail, I love to tease myself by lightly caressing myself through the fabric with my fingers and fingernails. I slowly peel off the tight shorts, which allows a rush of blood to flow into my penis. After being tightly packed into shorts for a few hours, my scrotum is electrically sensitive, and that first caress causes my cock to jump and sends chills through my body. Then I sit in front of the mirror, legs wide, as I rub and caress myself to an intense orgasm, shooting semen over my abdomen and, sometimes, up onto my chest. I watch the whole sordid affair in the mirror like a voyeuristic movie.

“It looks like I caught one on the calf”, Rich said. “I didn’t even notice it until now.” As he bent to look at his leg I could see that his tool was thickening, pushing hard against the shorts and making a more detailed relief come into view. “Oh, well. I guess that makes it a good ride. I’m going to get cleaned up” he said and made his way upstairs.

It was 20 years ago that Rich and I were in the summer of our senior year before college. We had decided to go to different schools, so we wanted to make the most of the time together knowing that it was a realistic possibility that we wouldn’t see much of each other for four years, maybe more. We took jobs with a landscaping crew that summer to make some spending money for the upcoming freshman year. The work was hard, but it got us outdoors and we could make our own schedule based on the jobs we were doing. Ordinarily Rich & I worked on the same crew so we could carpool & have the same days off. About 3 weeks into the summer, Rich and I were invited to a party at a friend’s house. It was within walking distance, so we went over around 9:30, but I was totally exhausted and decided not to leave early. Rich decided to stay a while longer and came home about 12:30 AM, fairly loaded. He walked into the room and started: “Bro, you should have stuck around. It was fucking hilarious the conversation that we had after you left. I am still laughing. I have to tell you about it.” He was laughing that drunk, incessant and very contagious laugh. Both he and I are affable, passive drunks, not the fighting type, so when he gets a few in him he’s usually the life of the party.

“OK, so I’m awake”, I said. “What was so funny?” I asked, smiling, waiting to hear what was up. Our party crew was a great bunch of fun loving kids that seldom made more trouble than the occasional beer party. The parents were so glad they could keep us under watch they let us do it pretty often in the summer, and it was a great time. In fact, as the years went on the parents of our friends became some of our closest friends to this day.

“You should have heard Charlie. Oh, man it was so fucking hilarious. Why did you leave?”

“Rich, I am dog ass tired. What did he say?”

“You were walking away, and he starts asking me, like in front of everyone, if we ever…you know…fooled around together. Then he goes ‘Dude you should like 69 each other because it would be like sucking your own dick. I mean, it’s not like its exactly gay, because it’s like if you could reach yourself you would, right? It was totally silent for like 3 seconds then Mary’s mother starts laughing, I mean she was yelling like a hyena laughing. Oh, my God I wish you didn’t leave. My fucking face hurts I was laughing so hard.”

In the quiet of our room, in stark contrast to the context of a beer party, the suggestion was admittedly very amusing. Picturing Mary’s rather uptight mother rolling laughing would have been a sight to see. It is still the lore of legend, now called “The Charlie Proposition”. Even now, by simply saying that phrase you can just about guarantee a roomful of laughter will ensue.

However, the quiet of the room yielded the absolute value of the suggestion, one that both of us surely had considered up to this point. There were times over the years that, while masturbating, I wondered to myself what the harm would be? I mean, it was as if I were pleasuring myself, I would rationalize as I would stroke myself hard. “It’s just like jacking myself off,” I would think as I approached an orgasm. I would point my penis at my face sometimes as it began to shoot, wondering what it would be like to be on the receiving end of another man’s orgasm.

Richard continued. “Bro, man, oh I wish you were there. I wish you were there. I mean, he is like nuts, isn’t he? Oh, man that is so funny.”

“Oh, come on Rich. You’ve thought of it before.” It was out of character for me to be the direct one, but I pressed the issue. “You’ve thought of it, I know I have. I’ve thought about it because of exactly what he said. It would be like sucking my own dick which I wish I could do. I imagine you wish you could suck your own dick too, let’s be honest. Maybe you wouldn’t swallow, not at first, but if you could bend over far enough you’d be in the bathroom 2 hours a day. So would I.”

And the tension and silence wallpapered the room. I had seldom been that forward with anyone, let alone Rich, let alone about fellating each other. It stunned him, and he just stared at me for a few seconds, then he smiled. “Ha, yeah, right, bro. What are you saying? Are you just fucking with me or what?”

Now he had a combination look of seriousness and near anger that made me wonder if being so direct was a good idea. Then he spoke again. “Yeah, OK, maybe once or twice I’ve thought about us, you know, like jacking off together or something. But like full on 69, I don’t know, man, have you ever really considered it?”

“Yes, I have. I’ve fantasized about it. I think it would be outrageously erotic. We wouldn’t have to do it more than once, but, yes, I definitely think it would be something we would enjoy. I would like it.”

Again, he was stunned. I was telling him that I would enjoy sucking his cock. I was telling him that I wanted him to suck my cock while I sucked his cock, and maybe even swallow his come. Yes, maybe I would let him come in my mouth.

“OK, let me get this straight”, he said. I sat up in bed, propping myself against the headboard. I had shorts with no underwear on, and I was hard as a rock. I made sure he could see right up my shorts at my thick penis and tightening sac. “Bro, you are like hard as a rock. You’re not fucking kidding me are you?”

“No. I am not. This is the last summer we are going to spend together. Depending on what happens, who knows? We could end up in different states or different countries for all we know. I love you Rich and I know you love me. That’s what matters. We trust each other, so even if we tried something and didn’t like it, that would be cool. We wouldn’t have to dwell on it, you know. We’d just let it go.”

“Bro, I can’t believe my ears. If we did that, wouldn’t that, you know for sure, wouldn’t that make us gay? I’m not gay bro.”

Now it was Rich that was hard, his cock poking at his thin shorts. “Nothing makes you anything that you don’t want to be. You are what you are Rich. Both of us have had girls. I hardly picture us doing this and choosing to be gay, but if that did happen then that was what was meant to happen. Maybe it’s just Fate that Charlie said that to you because when you think about it, now is the time. We’re young, we’re supposed to experiment”, I smirked. I just wanted a reaction from him and I was getting one. Rich was usually much more aggressive than I was, and this role reversal was unexpected for both of us. A year or two before that point it would have been impossible to imagine me being so forward with such a bizarre suggestion.

“I need to think this over”, Rich said solemnly.

“No you don’t. I’ll go first.”

I got down off the bed and motioned him to lie back on the bed. I unzipped my shorts and let them fall to the floor, my cock bouncing in the air as I made a move with my finger for him to strip off his shorts, too. He complied, his face flush red, and his penis, hard and thick waved over his abdomen. Yes, it was an exact duplicate of mine, and I wasted no time before either of us changed our minds. I was determined to do this. I wanted this experience and had fantasized about it long enough.

His shaft was rigid and veined like mine, but viewing it up close from another angle was strange and exciting. Pre seminal fluid gathered at the tip and pooled at the opening. I dabbed the tip of my tongue into it and pulled away causing a string of fluid to extend between my tongue and his hard cock.

“I like this stuff”, I said. “It’s salty and it tastes good. I taste mine all the time.”

Rich just looked at me totally amazed as I slowly jerked his cock to extract more fluid, dabbing my opposite index finger at the top and continuing to taste the salty goo.

“Well here goes”, I said and with that, swooped down mouth wide to swallow almost all of his cock into my mouth. A low groan escaped Rich’s mouth as he watched intensely. I liked the feeling of the warm flesh in my mouth more than I thought I would, and the bristle of pubic hair against my nose was exciting and interesting.

I withdrew from him and looked at him and said, matter-of-factly, “You taste good. I guess I taste good too!” He sort of laughed a little, breaking the tension that had built. But I still had his hard cock in my hand, and we had crossed over into very new and taboo sibling territory. I eyed up his cock and prepared to resume my work when he moved on the bed and motioned for me to climb in. He hesitated and said, “Wait a minute. This isn’t right.” I thought it was over, but what he wanted to do was what I had done.

He slipped off the bed and onto his knees. My penis throbbed hard from the excitement the front of my cock shiny with salty fluid. Rich followed my unscripted lead, and held my cock in his hand, then swirled his tongue along the staff, licking up the salty pre-seminal fluid. “You’re right, bro. It does taste good.”

Rich, like me, opened his mouth wide and planted my penis deep in his mouth. His eyes were closed, his tongue playing with the base of my tool. He moved up and down on me several times, quietly moaning with pleasure as he forced more into his throat with each stroke. The sensations were so amazing I could feel myself quivering.

“Not like this”, he said. “Let’s do this together.”

I knew what he meant so we maneuvered onto the bed and engulfed each other. The two experimenters, mighty pioneers of assisted autofellatio, moved into position to give and receive for the first time. We lay down on the bed sideways with our perfectly matched bodies face to crotch. Both of us were on our left sides with our right hand free. His stiff tool was shiny with saliva, its throbbing head near my nose.

As I reached for his cock with my right hand I could see him extending his tongue to begin to lick me. As his right hand held my penis firmly, his tongue began at the bottom of my sac, slowly tracing the seam of my balls to the swollen head of my penis. He licked his lips then parted them slightly. I could feel his breath on me an instant before he closed his eyes and swallowed most of my cock. He moaned loudly as he forced it into his mouth. He bobbed short, hard strokes as my sac grazed his chin.

His eyes were closed tightly as he focused on the work at hand. In fluid motion he accepted and withdrew, allowing my manhood to slide with delicate friction into and out of his restrictive orifice. His rough tongue and tight lips provided additional stimulation as I repeatedly entered and exited his warm, wet mouth.

I had my own work to do as his thick penis leaked pre-seminal fluid an inch from my face. I moved into position so as not to waste his tasty, salty fluid. Within seconds I licked the tip and swirled a single drop of clear goo in my mouth. Competitor to the end, I was anxious to compete with his fellatric excellence. He had gained style points that were not going to be easily or quickly mastered.

We were lost in individual worlds as we attempted to please each other while enjoying the sensations. With each thrust of my tool into my brother’s mouth the action was returned. I struggled to allow his rod push against the back of my throat as I eased and occasionally forced my prick into his mouth. He moaned and groaned with equal parts joy, ecstasy, frustration, and excitement as we continued our reciprocal efforts. We were young so the inevitable came rather quickly.

Rich began to climax. I felt his warm fluid in my mouth and the taste was wholly unpleasant. However, I didn’t pull away as he spasmed and thrust hard into my mouth. As I lay on my left side I used my right hand to stroke his tightened sack as he continued to unload. The taste was bitter and foul, but I fought back the urge to gag and began to swallow. It was important to me that his first experience was a good one; I didn’t want to taint his first go with personal dislikes. I wanted him to erupt, thrust, and groan hard through it all. I must admit I wanted the same.

Semen blanketed my mouth and tongue and jetted into my throat as his orgasm took over. I coped with the copious amount of fluid, swallowing what felt like a pint of come. As his penis erupted into my mouth, reality set in. I was sucking his dick and he had come. I feared that in a few seconds Rich was going to return to a more sensible state. I feared that he would withdraw from me with a receding erection and denounce this ridiculous act. I feared that he would get up, disgusted, making me regret a single thing I had done. These were legitimate fears, but thankfully unfounded.

After his orgasm had subsided, Rich broke the silence. Still lying on his side and I on mine, he said “Well, I guess I owe you”.

“You don’t owe me anything, Rich. Obligation isn’t part of the equation.”

He smiled at me for a while. “I want to do this for you, Ed. I want you to enjoy it.” He got up and motioned me to lean against the headboard of the bed. “Let’s do this one a little differently.”

My legs were wide, my cock thick and hard as I leaned against the bed. I felt incredibly powerful as Rich crawled up on the bed. My entire body was electrified as he moved between my legs and within seconds threatened to finish his oral work.

He held my tool firmly in his right hand as he pointed it toward his mouth. In an instant I disappeared between his lips as he tightened his mouth, and seconds later I was close to climax. Rich sensed my approaching orgasm and, at first, stiffened for the inevitable blast. But slowly he relaxed as he felt me tense and thicken. Surely he knew full well what was on the menu as my balls conjured a massive load. His hand continued to massage my sac but it was one final graze of skin and hair that put me over the edge. Poor Rich didn’t know what hit him as I gripped the back of his head and more or less restrained him into prime position.

My batter forced its way explosively from my glans into the cavern of my brother’s waiting mouth. Looking back, it was an impressive piece of work for Rich to get a full job and continue to give one. But he continued to suck dick in grand style as the fluid transfer continued. After probably 4 or 5 good blasts I subsided and he was able to get a decent breath.

I had barely finished when Rich gave a wry smile and got up and zipped into the bathroom. Seconds later I heard the shower running. I didn’t want to shower; I liked the sticky feel of saliva and semen drying on my balls and pubic hair. I looked in the mirror and saw my cock, still hard, with blobs of come dotting the staff and testicles. I regretted nothing. It was what I had wanted to do for a long time, and it was every bit as satisfying as I imagined it would be. The near-simultaneous orgasm didn’t hurt any, keeping both of us interested until the end.

Rich appeared from the shower and found his shorts.

“Well what do you think?” I asked.

“What do you mean?” he asked calmly.

“Do you like the way I suck dick?” I asked, bold and direct.

“Bro, do you have to say it like that? Man, can us like cool the dick sucking language a little.”

“OK”, I laughed. “You were great. I think I was pretty good, too.”

“Yeah, bro, it was, I guess, OK. I mean…I don’t think we’ll ever do that again but it definitely satisfies some curiosity, you know.”

“That it did. I’d do it again. I think it was cool.”

Rich just looked at me and smiled. “I don’t know bro. It’s really weird, man. I don’t know. Good night.”

“Good night, Rich.”

That night we closed the book on youth and opened the book of adult life. Together we took a step toward maturity and self awareness that helped us to carve out a new portion of our personality. In a strange way, that night helped to separate us in ways we never imaged we would be different, and bring us together in ways that would change our lives forever.

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ken wrote

loved the story it reminds me of the great times i had with my cousin when we was 8 years old. eagerly waiting for ch. 2.

roger wrote

amazing story, thanks