Randu

Double Trouble

Chapters 5-7

Chapter 5

"Elementary, Watson," I chuckled. "It's Chris!"

"Awww, how could you tell?" he said, disappointed at being unable to fool me. He came around the chair and leaned his hip against the side. He was wearing cut-offs this morning, and a bright-white t-shirt that showed off his tan nicely.

"I don't really know how I could tell," I told him honestly, not having the faintest idea how I did it.

"Even our teachers can't tell us apart," he frowned, wondering about it. I pointed out that his mother could, though. "Yeah, but she's our mom," he explained.

"Yabbits have long ears," I told him with a straight face, trying the old joke on him. It took him a moment to get it, and then he groaned theatrically, punching my shoulder. I asked him if his mom had gone off to work, and he nodded. "Where's your brother?" This was the first time I'd only seen half the set.

"He's outside somewhere," Chris shrugged. "Did you finish your book?" he asked, indicating the computer.

"Yep, all finished. Well, almost. I'm still putting some finishing touches on it. As soon as I'm done we can all go swimming if you want."

Chris grinned in agreement and asked if he could stay here and watch me work. I told him it wasn't very exciting to watch, but he was more than welcome to stay if he wanted. He beamed a happy, little-boy smile and promptly sat on my lap. I realized he just wanted to be with me, and it didn't matter whether what I was doing was interesting or not. While it made typing on the computer a bit awkward, I felt quite happy myself. His clean, fresh-smelling, sun-bleached hair just below my nose was a bit distracting though.

We both sat there quietly, my arms reaching around him to work the key-board as I continued where I had left off. After a few minutes of this, he craned his neck to smile contentedly at me, and impulsively I kissed his smooth forehead. ("I wish you were my dad,") I heard a small voice say. At first I smiled back at him, feeling quite pleased by his fondness for me. Then I realized that he hadn't actually said anything. His mouth was shut, and his lips hadn't moved a tiny muscle. My expression changed to one of surprise, and Chris's to disbelief. He quickly got out of my lap, saying in a shaky voice, his face suddenly pale, "I'm g-gonna go find Cory." He started backing towards the door, breathing fast like a frightened animal.

"Chris, wait a minute." I definitely wanted to find out what was going on here. All of a sudden he bent sharply forward, his breath whooshing out of him as if someone had punched him in the stomach. He grimaced in pain. I jumped out of the chair and ran to him, kneeling down and putting a hand on his shoulder. "What is it? What's the matter?"

"It's Cory!" he cried, his face now filled with panic. "He fell out of a tree!"

"How do you 3;"

"C'mon!" he said, bolting for the door as I ran along bewildered behind him. Chris headed unerringly to the back of a building two units over, where we found his brother laying on the ground beneath the low branches of an apple tree, groaning. I quickly went to him, expecting the worst and wondering what bones were broken.

"Don't move!" I ordered the boy as he tried to sit up. Chris stood tensely to one side, watching with concern.

Being a typical young boy, Cory sat up anyway. "I'm okay," he said, reaching beneath him to rub his butt. "Just got the wind knocked out of me."

Almost laughing with relief, I tousled his hair. "Please, don't do that anymore," I begged. "You scared the crap out of me."

"It's not like I did it on purpose," he frowned, looking pointedly at his twin.

I turned to see Chris watching me, his face still quite pale with worry. "Relax, Chris. He's okay."

I looked back at Cory, whose expression now mirrored his brother's, nervously biting his lip. I realized that Chris wasn't worried about his brother, he was worried about me. Pieces of the puzzle started fitting together inside my head as I looked at the two of them, and Chris now grew quite alarmed, his lower lip trembling. I made a startling conclusion, and tested it. ("You can read my mind, can't you?") I thought silently at him.

His reaction startled me even more. He started crying, hot tears of shame running quickly down his tender cheeks.

"I'm sorry!" he wailed, his face flushed. "I can't help it!"

Whimpering, he quickly ran back the way we had come.

I turned – totally confused – to Cory, who was glaring at me angrily. "Damn you!" he swore at me, his face livid. "What did you say to him?" His curse felt like a slap to the face and he flinched as much as I did, getting to his feet as he started crying also. "You're just like our father!" he yelled accusingly before running off after his brother.

Stunned, I sank to the ground with my thoughts in a whirl, as I tried to figure things out. Chris had obviously heard my unspoken thought, and just as obviously Cory hadn't. Looking back, I realized that it had been Chris who knew my name before I had told them, Chris who seemed to answer questions before I asked them, yet Cory seemed to know how I was feeling, if not what I was thinking. I couldn't believe it had taken me this long to figure it out, but they were very good at making up excuses for their abilities, and had clearly been trying to hide them.

Telepathic twins? Incredible, but not unbelievable. I had heard of twins who were able to communicate between themselves, but this was a step further. More importantly, why were they so upset at my having found out, and how was I like their father? Were they afraid I wouldn't like them any more? They certainly already knew my biggest secret – that I was a boy-lover – and had probably known it from the first time we met, and they still liked me. I was more than a little embarrassed to realize that Chris, at least, had heard my thoughts about their sexy bodies. But instead of running away screaming they had almost seemed to encourage me. I had nothing else to hide, really. The fact that at least one of them was a mind-reader didn't really bother me. Instead, I wanted to find out more about my extraordinarily gifted young friends.

I got back up and headed to their house, hoping that was where they had run off to. The door was unlocked so I let myself in, and I could hear a muffled sobbing coming from the back rooms. The door to their room was closed, but now I could hear the heart-breaking little sobs much clearer as I stood outside, hoping I could get a clue as to the cause of their distress.

"Don't cry, Chris," I heard Cory say. "He just wanted to have sex with us anyways."

Ouch. That hurt. Serves me right for eavesdropping, I thought ruefully.

"That's not true and you know it!" Chris said hotly. Then, softly, "He's outside the door."

"Go away!" Cory shouted. I wasn't going to be gotten rid of that easily. I opened the door and saw them sitting on the bottom half of a bunk-bed, Cory with his arm protectively, soothingly around a sobbing Chris. It broke my heart to see his stricken little face all flushed and wet with tears.

I sank to my knees in front of them. "Why are you so upset that I found out about you?" I asked him gently.

"'Cause now you think we're freaks!" Cory said defiantly, hugging his brother tighter.

"But that's not true," I said, defending myself. "I never once thought that. Can't you read my mind too?"

Cory shook his head no, looking at me doubtfully. "I'm an empath," he told me. "Chris is the telepathetic one."

"TelePATHic," Chris groaned.

"That's what I said."

"No, you said 3; Never mind." He frowned in consternation at his twin, sniffing and wiping his face with the back of his hand.

I looked at Cory. "You're empathic? You mean you can tell how other people are feeling, but you can't hear their thoughts?"

Cory nodded. "You know, like that lady on 'Star Trek: The Next Generation'?"

"You mean 'Troi'?" I was a big trekkie fan.

"Yeah, that's the one." He grinned slightly, impressed by my knowledge. "She's the counselor for the whole ship!"

"Well then, you should be able to tell if I'm lying or not, right?"

"Yeah 3;" he said slowly.

Chris was also looking at me, his face filled with hope. "You 3; You really don't hate us?"

"Hate you? Why would I hate you?"

They were both silent for a long time, looking at the floor. Finally, Cory whispered softly, "Our daddy called us freaks."

"That's why he left," Chris added, another tear running down his cheek.

Silently, my heart filled with compassion, I took a boy in each arm and hugged them tightly. Both boys clutched me almost desperately back, and I knew they could feel my love for them. How a man that had helped create such beautiful, gifted young boys could call them 'freaks' was beyond me.

"You're angry," Cory said, pulling away and looking afraid, as if I might be mad at them.

"He's mad at our dad, not at us," Chris explained, letting me go. Then he bit his lip, realizing he was reading my thoughts again.

"It's okay, Chris," I said, reassuring him. "I really don't mind."

"You don't?" he said doubtfully, finding it hard to believe.

"You can tell that I don't, can't you?" He nodded slowly. "Did you really think I wouldn't like you anymore?"

They explained how most people were terrified of having their thoughts read, of having their innermost secrets discovered. "You already know my biggest secret, and you still like me," I pointed out.

Cory looked confused, and Chris explained, "He means that he likes boys."

Cory shrugged, nonplused, as if that weren't nearly as bad as other peoples' secrets. I shuddered to think what these boys had been exposed to, from an early age: all of the hate, lies, anger, lust; all gleaned from the minds and emotions of others. No wonder they weren't bothered by my attraction to them. It was a credit to their mother's love that they were sane.

Chris was watching me. ("We're doin' ok,") he thought at me, making me jump. "I'm sorry!" he said out loud. He looked like he was going to cry again.

"It's ok, Chris," I told him again, wiping a tear from his cheek with my thumb. "It's just going to take some getting used to. That's all. Did you two really think you could keep this a secret from me?"

"We were gonna try," Cory admitted honestly, "but Chris kept goofing up."

"You did too, once!" Chris retorted. He sensed I didn't remember when this was. "In the pool, that first day," he explained. "Cory said you were tired."

I thought of something else. "Now that I think of it, he always seems to have an erection whenever I do, too. That's not a coincidence, is it?" Cory looked bashfully at the floor, and I knew it wasn't. "That could be embarrassing, when you get older."

"It only happens when I'm around someone I really like. I kinda get 'connected.'" He smiled shyly at me, blushing.

"Do you really think I only want to have sex with you?" I asked him, remembering what I had heard him say while I stood outside the door.

He shook his head, ashamed that I had heard him. "I can tell you really love us," he said softly. "I only said that to try and make Chris feel better." He looked at me, his face apologetic. "I'm sorry I swore at you before. I know I hurt your feelings."

I hugged him again by way of forgiveness, and everything was alright once more. Now that the crisis was over, I asked them to explain their abilities. Apparently they could communicate together telepathically, but only Chris was capable of hearing others. Chris was also able to make his mother hear him, if he projected a thought at her, but no-one else. That was why he had been so surprised when I heard him think, 'I wish you were my dad.'

"So that's what you meant when you yelled 'He heard me!' at me," Cory exclaimed. It seems Chris had flung the thought at his twin, catching Cory off guard.

"I'm sorry I made you fall out of the tree," Chris apologized, but he was sucking in his lips, trying to hold back a grin. I chuckled as Cory frowned at him; even I could tell the apology wasn't entirely sincere.

"I think you're only sorry about the fact that you felt it when he fell," I teased. Chris nodded, smiling openly now.

I wanted to test something. I told Chris to tell me what I was thinking, closing my eyes and trying to feel him 'inside'. All the science-fiction books I had ever read talked about things like 'probing tendrils of thought'.

Chris laughed derisively, picking it up. "It's not like that," he scorned.

I hadn't felt a thing; it was kind of disappointing. He went on to explain that it was something like listening to different stations on a radio. Each person had a different 'frequency', and all he had to do was tune in. Until I came along, he had only been able to 'broadcast' to his mother's and brother's stations. "Do you think that's why you can tell us apart so easy?" he reasoned.

I had to admit it sounded plausible. Perhaps – somehow – the three of us were linked in some way. It might have had something to do with my attraction to boys, I suppose. Being boys, the twins decided they had had enough serious talk and said they wanted to go swimming.

"I have to finish my book, first," I told them regretfully, trying my hardest to think only about my work. They begged and pleaded, and my concentration slipped. Chris immediately realized I was joking.

"Wow," he said, impressed. "You tricked me!"

"I'm smarter than you think," I grinned slyly, wrestling him down on the bed and tickling him until he begged for mercy, his tears forgotten. It was comforting to know that he could still be fooled; I would have missed the pleasure of teasing him, otherwise.

I sat on the bed and watched as they stood up, stripping off their shirts. I quickly reached out and poked a finger into each little navel while their heads were covered, making them both suck in their bellies. "How come you like tickling us so much?" asked Cory, exasperated by my constant kitchie-cooing.

"Because I like hearing you laugh," I answered simply, "and it's easier than telling you jokes." He smiled indulgently, shaking his head, graciously willing to put up with my eccentricities. They took off their shorts and underpants, standing back up unashamedly while I openly admired the now-naked twins, all of us glad that we no longer had any secrets between us. I noticed their sunburns seemed to be healing well, already turning to a light colored tan. I could feel my penis starting to swell as I looked at them, and Cory's little one twitched in empathy.

"You're a dirty old man," he teased, snickering as he fondled himself suggestively.

("Spank him!") I heard Chris suggest to me silently, a giggling echo trailing the thought.

Not needing any further encouragement, I snatched Cory off the floor and bent him over my lap on the bed, catching him completely off guard. It seemed that Chris was able to selectively 'broadcast', and his twin hadn't heard it as he yelled in surprise. "Dirty old man, huh?" I said in mock anger as I gave his twitching little butt a playful slap. Chris laughed in delight as his twin cried out in alarm at having been deceived. I gave him a few more little slaps to make his brother happy (and me too, I must admit), and I noticed Chris rub his own butt as if he were feeling it also.

Cory shouted his apologies, and I rolled him over. His little pecker was now as stiff as mine, poking up in the air from his smooth groin. I held his thin wrists in one hand over his head and looked at Chris.

"I don't think he's really sorry, do you?" I asked him with a grin. "Maybe we should tickle him to make sure."

Chris nodded his eager agreement, and before his brother could protest we started poking and prodding him everywhere on his body, leaving nothing untouched. Chris would tickle his armpits while I squeezed a knee, I would poke his belly and ribs while Chris playfully squeezed his hard-on or pinched his butt until Cory was screaming and squirming, hiccuping with laughter.

"Enough?" I asked the panting boy, who was so out of breath he could only nod his head as I released him, his chest rising and falling in relief as I stroked his soft tummy.

"I think I'd rather you told me jokes," he said wryly, once he recuperated. I gave his ribs one final poke and he giggled again in spite of himself. Then he accused us of ganging up on him. Chris artfully reminded him that he had done the same thing last night, more or less, and Cory let it drop, figuring they were even and wanting to go swimming instead of arguing about it.

They scampered into the bathroom and Chris stood on the edge of the tub, pulling their swim-suits and towels off the curtain rod where they had been hung to dry. They quickly pulled on the little bikinis, reaching a hand inside to straighten out their small boy-parts. My erection had gone down somewhat, as had Cory's, but his was still a bit longer and more full than usual, clearly outlined beneath the nylon brief. We went to my house and the boys curiously followed me into my bathroom to watch me change. I guess it was only fair; I had watched them change. Their eyes widened in appreciation as I stood there naked before pulling on my trunks, my penis semi-erect. I was only average in size, but big compared to their little ones. I grabbed a bottle of sun-tan lotion and quickly put some on their fading sunburns, not wanting them to burn again.

We spent the rest of the afternoon swimming and frolicking in the water, until starvation forced us to seek supper. Susan wouldn't be back until later in the evening, so it fell upon me to feed the hungry nine-year-olds. I suggested an expedition to McDonalds, for convenience's sake, and they readily agreed.

"Why don't we clean up first?" I asked, feeling the need for a shower. "You guys go home and take a quick bath and I'll come get you in about a half-hour, okay?"

They were old enough to be left alone for a short while, and I was right next door if they needed me. They ran off without any argument, since they were hungry and wanted to eat as soon as possible. I went home and quickly showered, putting on clean shorts and a shirt, arriving at their place about 25 minutes later. I knocked and opened the door, only to find the boys still wearing their swim-suits, sitting on the living-room floor.

"What's the matter?" I asked, wondering why they weren't ready. "I thought you guys were going to take a bath?"

Both boys were silent, looking at me rather nervously. Chris elbowed his brother in the ribs, prompting him. "We want you to give us our baths," he said hesitantly, sounding like a much younger boy.

"I thought you were hungry," I said, wondering what was going on. Not that I didn't want to bathe them, but I was hungry too.

"Please?" said Chris, his eyes almost pleading. I don't know why, but for some reason it seemed very important to them.

I shrugged and nodded, giving in, and they quickly ran into the bathroom, leaving me to follow behind. They both stood next to the tub, waiting anxiously and looking almost helpless; they hadn't even turned the water on. I started filling the tub, making sure the water was comfortably hot and closing the drain. Noticing a box of 'Mr. Bubble' on the side, I dumped in a generous amount of bubble-bath, watching as the tub slowly filled with water and bubbles. Cory and Chris just stood there waiting, apparently wanting me to undress them, also. They were acting almost like toddlers, and it was very unlike them to want to be babied like this. I didn't mind doing it, of course, if it was what they wanted. As I mentioned before, I had always dreamed of the things I would do if I were a father, and this was certainly one of them. I sat on the edge of the tub and pulled Cory to me, and he balanced himself with a hand on my shoulder as I pulled down his swim-suit, his little penis bouncing merrily as he stepped out of it. He smiled thankfully at me and climbed into the tub, splashing a little to make more bubbles as I stripped off Chris's speedo. The boy hugged me before joining his twin, and I was filled once again with love for them.

I pulled off my shirt, expecting a bit of splashing from the two imps, and grabbed a bar of soap in one hand and a wash-cloth in the other. I started with Cory, having him stand up to make it easier as I washed his face and neck, then down his back, using both the cloth and my hand as I soaped his young body. My hands followed the gentle curves down to his delightful butt, and I slid my soapy fingers into the narrow crevice, making him jerk when I goosed his tiny, puckered hole. I rinsed him down and turned the water off, and began washing his front. Lovingly, I lathered his chest and tickled his small nipples with my fingertips. I loved how they felt: the tiny, sensitive tips poking out as my hand slid across his soapy skin. He had an erection now, as did I, and his small organ was pointing up at my face.

I glanced at Chris and saw him playing with himself beneath the frothy layer of bubbles, watching us intently. I felt Cory tremble slightly as if he were cold, but there was sweat beading on his forehead. "Are you okay?" I asked. Neither one had said a word this whole time, and it seemed as if they were worried and very tense.

Cory nodded, but he was still shaking. "Your's is hard too," he whispered in an almost babyish voice, the 'r's softly lisped. His eyes were closed, so he must have been sensing my body's reaction to washing him.

"You want to touch his pee-pee," said Chris in a flat, emotionless voice. I didn't know why they were acting so strangely, and it was making me nervous, unsure of what to do. I felt as if I were acting in a play, but no-one had told me what my lines were.

("Go ahead,") Chris thought at me. ("He needs you to touch him.")

Still confused, I soaked the wash-cloth and held it to Cory's chest, rinsing him off a little as the water ran down his front. His eyes were achingly filled with longing as I rubbed the bar of soap over his belly, raising a lather of suds. Placing one hand on his back to hold him steady, I ran the other in circles over his stomach, getting it nice and slick. Gently, I ran my soapy hand over his genitals, sliding my fingers over his stiff little prick and softly fondling his balls. He whimpered once, a barely audible whine, and I quickly removed my hand, looking at him worrisomely.

("Don't stop!") Chris thought sharply at me, once again projecting his mind.

Still unsure of what was happening, I continued soaping the young boy's groin, lovingly caressing him with my fingers as Cory nudged his hips forward, pushing himself against my hand. Sensing his need, I took his firm little penis between my thumb and two fingers, gently squeezing to increase the friction against the slippery suds as I slowly rubbed it's tiny length. I could feel it throb as I stroked it, and Cory began thrusting his hips back and forth, grunting with an almost desperate desire, his hands clenched at his sides. He cried out "Daddy!" when he climaxed, but I knew he wasn't referring to me. I felt Cory's entire body shudder as the orgasm went through him, his moans of ecstasy seemingly mingled with cries of deep suffering that had waited long for release. He was actually sobbing when it was over, tears streaming down his cheeks as he threw his arms around my neck in grief, crying on my shoulder.

Wondering what I had done to cause all this I looked a question at Chris, as I held his trembling, soaking-wet brother against me. ("He's okay now,") I heard him say silently, a solemn tear of sympathy running down his own cheek. ("Just love him.")

I did my best to comfort the crying boy, holding him in my arms as I softly stroked his wet skin and said helpless, meaningless words like "Shhh" and "It's okay." I didn't know if it was okay or not, but it seemed to soothe him as he cried himself out, his heaving sobs becoming little whimpers until his tears finally tapered off to sniffles. Still he clung to me, and I gave him a tight hug before gently pushing him off of my shoulder, holding him at arm's length.

"Are you alright now?" I asked him, my voice filled with concern. He wouldn't look at me, and I could tell he was embarrassed by his outburst. "It's okay to cry," I told him. "The boys in my books cry sometimes, too." He nodded, and I knew that made him feel a little better. I wanted to ask him what all this had been about, but I didn't think he'd want to talk about it. If he wanted me to know he could tell me when he was ready. Instead, I pulled him back in my arms and said, simply, "I love you, Cory."

"I love you too," he said in his soft voice, hugging me back. Quietly, he sank down in the water and rinsed himself off.

"Now wash me!" Chris demanded in a cheery voice, breaking the somber mood that was hanging over us. Smiling gratefully at him, I gestured for him to stand up and took soap and wash-cloth in hand once again. I could tell he wasn't going to repeat his brother's performance as he giggled and wiggled beneath my soapy, tickling hands. He said to hurry because he was hungry, and I was leery about masturbating him anyway after seeing how his brother had reacted, so I quickly soaped his penis and tiny balls and told him to rinse off, leaving it at that.

They climbed out of the tub and quickly dried themselves off, no longer feeling the need for me to baby them and acting like nothing unusual had happened. They ran to their bedroom and pulled on clean underpants, shorts, t-shirts and sneakers, then ran back to the bathroom, combed their hair and yelled, "Let's go!"

I dried off my chest where Cory had gotten me wet and put my shirt back on. Cory pointed out apologetically that my shorts were all wet too, so we all headed to my place so I could change before going out to eat.

At McDonalds they wanted 'Happy-meals', which I gladly bought for them. Cory and Chris were always polite, saying please and thank-you quite sincerely, but I think they knew they could have had their way with me even if they were discourteous. It was nicer to spoil boys that had manners, though.

It was almost dark when we got back home and their mother hadn't returned from work yet, so we settled down on their couch and watched old reruns on 'Nickelodeon', the cable TV channel. They enjoyed the old shows as much as I did, laughing as we watched 'Get Smart', 'Mister Ed', 'The Dick Van Dyke Show'; all the old programs from my own youth.

By the time Susan came home the three of us had fallen asleep on the couch. Chris was sprawled on his stomach on top of me, Cory snuggled against my side, my arms around both of them. She gently shook me awake and said, "You guys look pretty comfortable." My hands were still beneath the young boys' shirts and I quickly removed them. I had drifted off into a blissful doze while stroking Chris's back and Cory's side, but I wasn't sure what their mother would think of my intimacy.

The twins came groggily awake when they heard their mother's voice, and we disentangled ourselves. "Sorry I had to work so late, Tom," said Susan, as Cory and Chris hugged her hello with sleepy yawns. I waved off her apology, letting her know I didn't mind. "The boys give you any trouble?" she asked. The boys in question looked at me expectantly, remembering all that had happened today and wondering what I would say. I was wondering, myself.

"Well, Cory fell out of tree," I told her, and when her eyes widened in concern I quickly added, "but he didn't get hurt any." Cory looked guiltily at his mother, wondering if he'd get reprimanded. "I should have been watching him closer," I went on, apologizing for my lax attention to her sons.

She sighed ruefully with a small laugh. "They're boys, Tom. You can't possibly watch them every second, and I honestly wouldn't want you to anyway." She lovingly ruffled the boys' hair, and they smiled up at her. "They're going to get scrapes and cuts once in a while, and nothing you or I can do will prevent it. We can worry about it, though," she added with an exasperated smile.

I laughed, filled with admiration for this single-mother as she ordered the twins to bed. Cory and Chris hugged me and kissed me good-night, and her eyebrows raised slightly as she watched them. She didn't seem to disapprove though. Before I left I invited her over for some coffee after she put the boys to bed, and she accepted. I wanted to tell her that I had found out about her sons' abilities, and to find out more about them.

She knocked on my door about a half-hour later, and her expression seemed relieved as we sat down at the kitchen table. "Chris and Cory told me what happened today," she began, taking a sip of coffee. "I appreciate how well you handled everything. I don't think either one of them could have coped with another rejection, especially from you."

I hoped she didn't know everything that I had 'handled' today. I didn't know if the boys had told of the bath-time incident or not. "I was bound to find out about them eventually," I told her. "I'm an expert on boys, remember? You said so yourself."

Susan didn't laugh at my small joke. I could see she was hesitating, thinking about what she wanted to say. "I think you're more than an 'expert', Tom," she said carefully, watching my reaction. "Would you care to tell me about it?"

Oh Jesus, I thought to myself, feeling my face go pale in panic. The mother of two nine-year-old boys knows what I am. Should I deny it? Self-preservation was my first instinct. I could see the headline: 'Popular children's author denounced as a Pedophile!' She was watching me intently as my thoughts churned. She obviously already had her suspicions; anything less than the truth would be disbelieved. I swallowed hard and took a deep breath, preparing – for the first time in my life – to admit to another adult my deepest secret.

"I'm a boy-lover," I said. Looking her in the eye as I said it was the hardest thing I've ever done. I cocked an ear, listening for sirens to announce my arrest.

She nodded, once. No accusations, no hysteria, no cries of 'pervert'. Just a nod. "I know that was hard for you, Tom. But I want you to know that I appreciate your honesty. If you had lied I would have thought less of you. And no," she added, "I'm not going to call the police or tell anyone else."

I breathed a sigh of relief when she said this. "I suppose you'll be looking for another baby-sitter now," I said regretfully, figuring my relationship with Cory and Chris was over. "I'll stay away from them, if you say so."

"No, no Tom, you're misunderstanding," she said earnestly. "I'm trying to tell you that it's okay. I know you love them both, and they love you too." I was looking at her with amazement, convinced I must have been dreaming. "You gave them a bath, Tom," she went on. "That's something they haven't let anyone do since they were four years old. Not even me!"

I got some more coffee as Susan began filling me in on their past. She explained how her and her husband had known the boys were 'different' since infancy. Cory would be very sensitive to their moods, while Chris could always make his mother understand what he needed, even before he could talk. When the twins did learn to speak their talents became even more apparent. Susan's husband loved their special boys as much as she did. But one time, when Susan had to work late, he was giving the little boys a bath and his love crossed into taboo territory (to his thinking):

He had been washing four-year-old Cory when the little boy popped a boner. Nothing unusual about that. The problem began when he felt his own penis harden, as he looked at his young son's proud little erection. Cory could sense this, and told him so. I immediately realized the whole bath scene this afternoon had been a re-enactment of this. Chris picked up his father's desire to touch the little pecker, and also told him. Instead of caressing it for a moment, as Cory wanted him to do (because he loved his daddy and he could feel that even his daddy's body loved him back), the man was filled with self-loathing and guilt at his sexual reaction to the little boy, made all the worse because the boys knew about it. He slapped the four-year-old, the first time he had ever struck one of his sons, and called them both freaks, when it was he himself who thought he was perverted. When Susan came home and the distraught twins told her what had happened, she tried explaining to the man that any good psychologist could tell him that his erection had been completely normal. The damage had been done, though. Every time he looked at the boys he knew they were aware that he had been sexually attracted to them, and – his 'masculinity' in doubt – he couldn't live with it. A few days later he simply left, telling Susan to file for a divorce and that she could have whatever she wanted. He still provided child-support, but that was little comfort to fatherless, hurt young boys. From then on, Cory and Chris insisted on bathing themselves, fearing their mother might leave also.

Susan finished the story by saying that Cory had taken on the role of protective older-brother, hating his father but never mourning him, until today. "You showed him that what his father felt wasn't bad, that it wasn't his fault, that you love him for what he is and don't feel guilty or self-conscious about it. They both desperately needed to know that someone besides myself could love them, someone who knew they were telepathic and wasn't afraid of them. I think only a man like you could have done it."

Susan went on to tell me more: How the boys had been aware of other people's sexual feelings since they were out of diapers, sleeping together and experimenting with their own bodies. She said (and I blushed) that if they were going to fool around with someone else she would rather it be with someone she knew, and who loved them both, than with a stranger off the street. She even said she was a bit jealous of them!

We talked past midnight until both of us were yawning, and finally said our good-nights. We hugged, chastely, like brother and sister, drawn together by our mutual love for her sons. My love also had a sexual element to it though. It was good not to have any secrets, I thought, as I drifted off to sleep a little later, visions of two identical boys dancing naked through my head.

Chapter 6

I still found it hard to believe that I had their mother's blessing on our relationship. Not many mothers would allow their sons to hang around with a confessed boy-lover, but that was exactly what she had done. I felt I owed her something for being so understanding, so I tried to think of something that would help her with raising two young boys.

Cory and Chris would be starting school in a couple of weeks, the end of their ninth summer sadly coming to an end. When they came over I asked if their mother had bought them new school clothes yet, and both boys frowned disgustedly at me for reminding them of the dreaded end of their freedom before saying no. When I suggested a shopping trip into Chicago however, they both perked up, excited about a trip into the city even if it was for school clothes.

I decided to take them to the State Street Mall, a huge building that took up almost an entire city block, soaring many floors into the air. We parked in a parking garage across the street, and even though the twins had lived on the north-side they gawked at the skyscraping buildings, craning their thin necks all the way back as they tried to see the tops. They had never been here before, since it was too expensive a place for their mother to shop. It was my first time here also. I had never had a reason to visit before.

They both held my hands as we wormed our way through the bustling crowds, and occasionally a passer-by would smile at the two adorable boys and then at me, obviously thinking I was the twins' father. Once inside the mall we found a directory, and the boys gaped at the huge selection of stores. I felt rather intimidated myself.

I found the name of a rather upscale department store on the 7th floor, and we took an elevator up. Their eyes bugged out (and mine too) when they saw the size of the boys' department. We wandered about rather aimlessly until a saleswoman caught sight of the twins, obviously also seeing double sales. She was a college-age girl (whose name-tag said Dawn), and Cory and Chris were put at ease by her friendly manner as she judged their size with an expert eye and started displaying assorted clothes for their approval. The boys took up residence in the dressing room as the girl almost frantically brought item after item to them, taking some back when they made a sour face, setting some on a growing pile of keepers when they shrugged their consent. Cory seemed to favor Levi's blue-jeans, while Chris preferred Bugle Boy. I couldn't decide which I liked better as they modeled for me; both types showed off their backsides quite nicely. Neither boy was too particular about shirts, choosing multi-colored pullovers of several varieties. Everything looked good on them, but I liked them even better in just their white jockey-shorts as they dressed and undressed repeatedly. I recognized some of the designer-names from the Sunday papers. I always looked through the color pull-outs hoping to see a cute boy modeling swimwear or (rarely) underwear. Girls, however, seemed to far outnumber boys in that department, I lamented.

Once we had quite a sizable collection, I told Dawn that that would be enough. She let out a breath of air, seeming regretful and relieved at the same time. The boys had given her a good workout. I watched as Chris and Cory pulled their own shorts and t-shirts back on, and as they were tying their shoes I asked them if they needed new underwear. Cory looked around to make sure the girl was busy before nodding yes. Underwear wasn't something they needed a girl's help with, evidently.

I asked Dawn where the underwear section was and she pointed in it's general direction. She almost asked if we needed any help but Chris gave her a look that quite clearly meant they were capable of doing it themselves. She didn't mind, contenting herself with adding up the numerous price-tags as we wandered off.

"She thinks you're our dad," Chris informed me, apparently having heard her thoughts.

"I suppose we could pretend," I smiled at him, putting an arm around each of my identical friends.

The boy hesitated a moment before asking, "Why don't you marry our mom? Then you could really be our dad."

His hopeful sincerity warmed my heart, and I hated to disappoint him. "It wouldn't be fair to your mom," I told him.

He looked up at me and I could see he didn't understand. Surprisingly, Cory explained. "He means he likes us better than he likes our mom."

I could see that Chris still didn't get it. "Your mother needs a man who would love her the same way that I love both of you," I elaborated. Chris frowned as he considered this, and finally realized I was talking about the sexual aspect of our relationship. He sighed, and I was as regretful as he was.

We found the long aisle that displayed Jockey, Fruit-of-the-Loom, Fun- Pals and several other brands. While Cory and Chris browsed through them my mind imagined all the different sizes of boys that would fill the diminutive briefs, which came in assorted colors, no less. Chris smiled at me knowingly, picking up my erotic thoughts, and I shrugged helplessly back. I saw a small section displaying a brand called Le' Tigre, and my heartbeat speeded up a bit as I realized they were bikini-briefs, the same as a man would wear only in boys' sizes. They didn't even have fly-fronts, since it was easier to just pull them down and piss.

Cory sensed my excitement and came over to see what had my blood pounding. He snickered when he saw what I was looking at. "I don't have to be a mind-reader to know what you're thinking," he smirked, as Chris walked over to see what all the fuss was about. The thought of my sexy young friends wearing sexy little briefs beneath their new clothes made my dick swell with an erection, and Cory had to adjust his own little pecker, empathetically connected to my own. "Behave yourself," he admonished me, wagging his finger as I smiled guiltily.

"Don't tease him, Cory," said his brother, defending my lustful desires. "He can't help it."

Chris picked up a package and studied the designs on the small bikini-underpants. I saw one that came in a spotted leopard-skin print, and I immediately thought of Johnny Sheffield: 'Boy' in the old Tarzan movies. Chris chuckled and pounded his chest.

"You Tarzan! Me Boy!" he said, comically trying to deepen his treble voice. He looked at Cory and pointed. "Him Jane!"

Cory rolled his eyes at me. My telepathic friend was making me even more embarrassed.

"I'm sorry Tom," said Chris, smiling in spite of his apology as he realized he was doing what he had just told his brother not to do. "We'll wear 'em, if you really want us to. Won't we Cor?"

Cory looked through the assortment and found some that were printed in army camouflage. "Sure," he chirped. "These are cool! I can be Rambo!" He flexed his arm and displayed his wiry biceps.

I watched as they picked out their choices, but now I started to wonder what their mother would think. I went over to the Jockey rack and took a couple packages of regular, colored underpants. When the twins looked at me curiously I ostensibly said, "We don't want your mom to think I'm turning you two into male-strippers or something." They laughed their high-pitched giggles and I joined in as we carried our plunder back to Dawn. The thought of them doing a strip-tease was an intriguing one, though.

The boys watched in awe as the cash-register kept going and going and going 3; finally coming to a stop at well over five-hundred dollars. Their mouths dropped in shock as they watched me calmly hand over my gold-card, their eyes darting back in disbelief to the total on the machine. The girl read my name on the card and I saw her brow furrow in concentration. "Are you the children's author?" she asked finally.

"Yes, I am." Already surprised by the amount of money I was spending on them, Cory and Chris were further impressed at my being recognized by a total stranger. I grinned to myself as I saw them speechless for the first time since I had known them. Dawn proceeded to tell us how her little brother had all of my books, and asked me to give my autograph for him. She gave me a blank piece of paper and told me to make it out to 'Tony', which I did. Then she had me autograph the credit-slip as well, prudently tearing up the carbons. Cory finally found his voice and eagerly informed her that I had just finished another book, and I thought I detected a note of pride in his voice as he told Dawn to be sure and tell her brother about it.

Dawn handed each of us a large shopping bag filled with our booty and gave us a very sincere thank-you as we walked off. The boys were having a hard time carrying the heavy bags, barely able to keep them off the floor. I considered offering to help but both of them shot me determined looks, Cory sensing my concern and Chris hearing it. They had to switch arms several times before we made it back to the car, where we put everything in the trunk. We walked down to the corner and had lunch at McDonald's, and I asked them what they wanted to do next.

"Could we go to the top of the Sear's tower?" asked Cory, after a moments consideration. Chris nodded his eager approval of the idea.

"Sure," I said. "I haven't been there for a while."

We decided to walk the few blocks, since it was a nice day and it was easier than fighting traffic and finding another parking place. We were only half-way there, threading our way through the lunch-time crowds, when Chris started rubbing his temples as if he had a bad headache. "You okay?" I asked him, as we waited for a light to change so we could cross the street.

"Yeah," he said, but his expression was rather pained. "It's all these people. They make a lot of noise up here." He pointed at his head. "Sometimes it's hard to block it out."

I hadn't realized that his 'receiver' might get scrambled from being in a crowd, with so many people's thoughts intent on hurrying or business. "Will you be all right?" He nodded grimly, and I could tell it was hard for him. "How about you?" I asked Cory.

"I'm okay," he shrugged. "I can feel everyone's in a hurry, but it doesn't really bother me. I can block it better than Chris can, I guess, 'cause I don't have to listen to them. He's the telepathetic one," he added, mispronouncing it once again, apparently on purpose.

"TelePATHic!" Chris exclaimed, exasperated by his brother's attempt at humor.

"That's what I said," Cory responded mildly, giving me an innocent look. His eyes were smiling, however.

"Can't you feel his headache though?" I asked, remembering how Cory seemed to be 'connected' to those he cared about, especially his twin.

"I can tell his head hurts," he said, looking at his brother with some concern, "but I can kinda block it out, when I have to."

"How come you don't 'block it out' when I get a you-know-what?" I asked, as we crossed the street with the flow of people.

Understanding that I meant how he always got a hard-on when I did, he said seriously, "That's different. That feels good!"

I couldn't think of any way to help his brother, so we continued on. We finally reached the world's tallest building and took what must have been the world's fastest elevator up to the observation deck. Our ears popped when we got there. Chris seemed more at ease now that we weren't in the middle of a crowd, and I gave both boys some change for the telescopes that were placed all along the windows. I pointed out some planes circling around O'Hare airport, seeming to be at the same altitude as we were. It was a beautiful view, and the boys ran around eagerly pointing out all the landmarks. Cory placed his forehead against the window, staring wide-eyed at the ground far below, and I felt a stab of apprehension seeing him separated from the thin air outside by only a few inches of glass. Feeling my nervousness, the boy grinned at me devilishly and held his arms out, continuing to lean his head against the window and saying, "I'm flying!" He was a typical boy, in spite of his psychic abilities.

When we had seen all there was to see I suggested, jokingly, that we walk down instead of taking the elevator. Both boys looked at me as if I had lost my mind, and I had to laugh. We plummeted down in the elevator and made faces trying to get our ears popped again. There were a few stores on the ground-level, and I saw something that gave me an idea. "If you listened to something on that," I said to Chris, pointing to a Walkman with headphones, "would that help you block out the crowds?"

Chris considered this, and decided it might work. We went into the store and I asked Cory if he wanted one too, since I wanted to be fair about it, but surprisingly he said no. They weren't like other brothers, who felt a constant need to compete or have the same things that the other one had. So, with Chris wearing the headphones and listening to a radio station, we headed back out to the busy street. After a half-block, while Chris was singing along to some song that we couldn't hear, I poked him on the shoulder and he looked up at me, beaming his sunny smile. Evidently my idea had worked; the music gave him something else to listen to.

When we got back to the car Chris slid next me, while Cory took the passenger seat. Chris took off the Walkman and wrapped his soft arms around my neck, planting a quick, moist kiss on my lips. "Thanks Tom," he said, smiling.

"Yeah," echoed his brother. "Thanks for all the cool clothes and stuff." I smiled at both of them, letting them know I appreciated their thanks. I suppose some people might accuse me of trying to buy their affection with gifts, in the hopes of receiving sexual favors from them. The twins already liked me, however, and were quite aware that I was sexually attracted to them. My motives weren't nearly so devious. I simply wanted to buy them things to make them happy, to show that I loved them. In this regard, I'm no different than a man buying something for his wife or girlfriend (or boyfriend, for that matter).

Back at home we dumped all the new clothes at their house, and returned to my place to play the computer game. It was late in the afternoon, Susan would be home shortly, and we were all too tired to go swimming. I booted the computer and resumed the game where we had left off a few days ago, and Chris took up station at the keyboard while Cory went to the kitchen and came back with Cokes for them and a beer for me. He handed me the beer and sat on my lap, leaning back against me and eying my can hopefully, so I gave him a swallow and listened to the obligatory belch. He snuggled his small, warm body against me as we watched Chris play the game, giving occasional suggestions which Chris would then carry out.

I wrapped my arms around the young boy in my lap, and he put his left arm fondly around my neck, filling my nostrils with the sweet aroma of nine-year-old boyhood as he relaxed against me. I stroked his bare leg and he kicked off his sneakers, revealing his small, dainty feet and placing them up on the chair, exposing his tender thighs to my caresses. Running my hand over Cory's slender leg gave me an erection, naturally, and soon the boy had to tweak his own growing penis through his shorts, as he responded to my desire. I looked at his beautiful face, and his trusting smile seemed to draw my lips to his. I kissed him softly, lovingly, feeling his moist lips press against my own, filling me with a passion that seemed to be returned as I heard him moan slightly, his lips vibrating with the sound. I felt his mouth open, granting me access to the warm wetness within as I continued stroking his leg, my finger teasing against the small bulge of his scrotum hidden beneath his underpants. Cory seemed to be echoing my own need, wrapping both arms around me as we kissed deeply, slowly, our tongues dancing together as my other hand found it's way beneath his shirt. I had never kissed a boy this way before, and was surprised at how passionately he returned my oral caress. I realized he was empathetically feeling my lustful love, and was reflecting it back at me mixed with his own desire. The result was a young boy of nine acting like a female in heat, his breath coming faster through his nostrils as my own increased as well. Pushing my fingers under his shorts, I squeezed the small hardness within and was rewarded with a sensual groan from the boy's mouth, fastened to my own. Then I heard a slight cough on my left, and remembered Chris. I pulled away from Cory, and both of us were panting, grinning with surprise at each other. Chris seemed to be pouting slightly, watching us morosely.

"What about me?" he said, sounding a little envious at all the attention his brother was receiving. I seemed to have an enviable dilemma of trying to figure out how to kiss a set of twins with only one mouth.

"He's jealous," said Cory, appraising his brother. He didn't say it mockingly, though.

"Am not!" Chris lied. If anyone could tell how he felt, Cory could. Chris realized he was wasting his time trying to fool us and shrugged, looking at the floor. It was flattering to realize that these non-competitive brothers could be possessive over my affections.

"I don't think all three of us could fit in this chair without falling over," I told them, making Chris grin a little at the thought.

"We could go to your bedroom," Cory suggested not-so-innocently. Chris nodded his agreement, looking eager.

I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant but knowing that they were aware that I was as eager as they. I stood up with Cory in my arms and he wrapped himself around me as Chris followed us into the bedroom. I threw Cory on the bed and started tickling him, then I grabbed his brother and did the same. I wanted to keep things fun, yet also erotic. Lying alongside of Chris, I grabbed his thin wrists and pinned his arms over his head, tickling his belly and armpits. While Chris wiggled in glee, Cory – ever the mischievous one – grabbed hold of his brother's shorts and underpants and quickly pulled them off, leaving Chris naked from the waist down. I glanced at the stiff little boy-tool poking up from his pale groin and gave it a playful squeeze, making the boy giggle again. I started softly rubbing over his belly, then underneath his shirt, stroking over his stretched-out rib-cage and little nipples. When I released his arms he kept them over his head, enjoying the sensation of my stroking hand, a contented smile on his face.

"Take off his shirt," Cory prompted, willing to expose his brother for everyone's enjoyment. Since Chris hadn't protested, I bundled his shirt up to his armpits and pulled it off over his head and arms. Chris remained lying there sedately, stretched out with one leg slightly bent outward, no longer ashamed or embarrassed at being naked in front of me. I had seen both of them nude several times now, after all. In fact, I think they were both quite pleased with the effect their smooth young bodies had on me, and the unique personalities contained within them made them even more special.

("Kiss me like you did Cory,") I heard inside my head, as his brother laid down on the other side next to him. I pushed my right arm beneath Chris's shoulders and neck, lifting his head slightly as I lowered my own, watching his eyes close in anticipation. I brushed my lips softly against his own, and he giggled a little in response. His reaction would be different than Cory's, I could tell, since he lacked his brother's empathic ability to feel my passion and return it. He was a playful kitten, while Cory was the aggressive tiger. It required a mental adjustment to my love-making, so I playfully pecked at his lips while my left hand roamed over the boy's bare front, occasionally going low enough to stroke over his little hard-on and balls. Sticking my tongue out I licked across his lips, and his own tongue came out to say hello. As I explored inside his mouth, breathing in his sweet boy-breath, I could tell he was getting into it now. No longer giggling, he was making little grunts of pleasure as I continued petting his smooth skin, feeling his body squirm in pleasure. My hand unexpectedly met another one on Chris's chest, as Cory started massaging the nude boy between us.

Breaking off our kiss, I moved down to his chest and flicked my tongue across his left nipple before closing my lips on the erect little flesh-bud and sucking on it. I was amazed to hear soft moans of ecstasy inside my head; apparently Chris was unintentionally broadcasting his pleasure. I felt the boy's back arch and a soft 'oooh' escape his lips, and when I looked down between his legs I saw that Cory had moved between them and was now sucking on his brother's penis. Startled at the sight of the stiff little organ being drawn happily into his mouth, I had to stop what I was doing and watch for a few seconds. Cory noticed me looking at him and took his lips off of his brother long enough to smile at me before going back to work. I had to remind myself that these weren't a couple of naive nine-year-olds; they had been exposed to the full range of human feelings and desires since infancy, and had seemingly experimented on each-other.

Since Cory appeared quite experienced at what he was doing, I moved back to Chris's mouth. I wanted to be kissing him when he came, and to feel his young body writhe in pleasure. As my tongue again entered between his lips he wrapped his arms tightly around my neck, kissing me almost as passionately as Cory had. While I fingered his stiff little-boy tits, I could feel his body arching and pushing, rhythmically pumping in sexual abandon, as Cory and I made love to him.

I was totally unprepared for what happened next. All the while, I had been hearing his little moans being broadcast telepathically. When the boy climaxed, it was as if I was feeling it with him, as waves of pulsating pleasure filled my head in a burst of pure, youthful joy, echoed by the quivering body in my arms. I heard Cory and myself moaning along with him, as we both felt Chris's dry orgasm.

Almost as quickly as it started it was over. "Wow," was all I could say as I looked in awe at the panting boy spread out on my bed.

"It's neat how he does that, huh?" said Cory, grinning widely above his brother's wet little dick, which was slowly lowering itself after it's amazing feat. Chris opened his eyes and smiled happily at me, glad that he could now share his orgasms with someone other than his brother.

"You can suck me, if you want," Cory told me impishly, playing with his brother's now shrunken penis.

"Wait a minute," Chris said, cocking his head. "Mom's home. She's on her way over here." Cory frowned, as disappointed as I was.

I looked admiringly at the nude boy lying so relaxed on my bed. "You better get dressed," I told him. Even if Susan didn't mind our fooling around I didn't feel comfortable having her see us like this.

"Why?" said Chris mischievously, stretching himself out comfortably and making no move to do what I said.

Instead of saying something typically adult, like 'Because I said so,' I simply grabbed the boy and flipped him over on his stomach across my legs, giving his bare butt a few slaps until he laughingly gave up. Susan knocked just as he finished dressing and we all went out to greet her.

"Hi guys," said Susan as the boys hugged her hello. Chris asked if she had seen all their new clothes. "Yes, I did. You're spoiling them again Tom," she said with mock seriousness. I could tell she appreciated it, though. "I don't know how to thank you."

"Have him over for dinner," Cory suggested with a shrug. His simple solution met with approval from us all, and a short while later we enjoyed a delicious meal of spaghetti and meatballs.

During dinner, an idea began to take shape in my head as I watched the boys slurping up strings of spaghetti. Chris picked up my thought and looked at me in astonishment. "You want to write a book about us?" he asked, his eyes wide.

"Chris!" his mother admonished, realizing he must have been reading my mind since I hadn't said anything.

"It's alright Susan," I assured her. "I'm used to it by now."

They were all looking at me now, wondering if Chris's remark was accurate, so I explained. "Well, maybe not about you, but kind of based on you. It would be a story about two boys like yourselves, but the rest would be made up. I'm thinking kind of like a sword and sorcery type book. Fantasy."

A couple of my books had been set in medieval times, so I felt confident of being able to create a made-up world based on that era. I looked at Cory and Chris and was pleased to see their eyes wide, flattered speechless about having a book based on them.

"You mean there'd be magic and stuff?" asked Cory finally.

"Can we help?" his brother asked eagerly.

"I'll be a magician-prince and a warrior," said Cory boastfully.

"Me too!" echoed Chris.

"But I was born first, so that means I get to be King when the old one dies."

"Hey, wait a minute," argued Chris. Susan rolled her eyes at me as if to say, 'See what you've started?'

"Hold on you two," I cut in, heading off any further argument. "I'm the writer here, remember?" They both grinned at me sheepishly. "It's just an idea right now, but I'll let you know what I come up with."

We finished our dinner and the boys cleared the table, while I took a seat on the couch. Once everything was in the dish-washer the boys joined me while Susan went off to take to take a shower. We watched old reruns on Nickelodeon again, but my mind was elsewhere, going through possible plots for the story. Once in a while Chris would look at me, hearing the ideas in my head and wanting to comment, but he politely remained silent, not wanting to interrupt me. When Susan returned I thanked her for the dinner and said good night, since I wanted to get home and start writing things down. The boys kissed me goodbye, obviously wondering where my story would take them but remaining silent, afraid to disrupt my 'creative juices'.

I finished a rough outline for the book that night, surprising myself at how easy it was. I usually took a few weeks break between stories, but this one seemed to be rolling out quickly. I guess I was doubly inspired.

Chapter 7

(I had learned from Susan that their grades used to be as identical as the twins were. They had cheated. Cory would silently ask his brother what an answer was, and Chris gave it to him, wrong or right. Their undoing had been the fact that each had had the same wrong answers. Their teacher thought they must have been using elaborate hand-signals. Needless to say, Susan quickly corrected their ways.)

Most parents probably feel relieved when their kids go off to school. I wasn't the twins' father, but I couldn't possibly be glad of their absence. I missed watching the nine-year-olds run around in their speedos (or less) every day. They were very affectionate young boys, always willing to hug and be hugged, kiss and be kissed. Especially Chris. He loved to cuddle with me, sitting in my lap and talking to me with his thoughts. Cory, on the other hand, was able to feel my desires. The little imp liked to tease me by kissing me wetly and passionately for a few minutes and then running off, leaving me all hot and bothered. He always made up for it though, eventually.

Both boys seemed grateful to have a man in their lives again. They had different ways of showing it though, which matched their individual selves. Cory liked to roughhouse, wrestling with me or begging me to play catch or some other sport outside. He had joined the soccer team at school, and you could see the absolute joy in his face when I came with Susan and Chris to watch his games. He was also well aware of the effect his soccer shorts had on me. The loose-fitting shorts, combined with calf-covering knee-socks, highlighted his long, deliciously smooth thighs very nicely. He almost seemed to flaunt his boyishly-sexy body, just to arouse me. Ironically, even though Cory was the more 'jockish' of the two, he didn't think our love-making was sissy or queer. Maybe it was because he could tell how deeply I cared for him, and he knew (even at the age of nine) that sex was one way of showing that love.

Chris didn't seem to care much about sports. He played outside with us, but he just didn't have that competitive desire. He was a lot like myself, to be honest. The more artistic and creative of the two, he seemed rather quiet and contemplative, next to his outgoing brother. He was quite content to sit on my lap while I worked on the book, and his suggestions for it were really insightful. He could follow my thoughts on whatever problem I was having and usually come up with something that would work. Chris seemed to need nothing more than my love and affection, which I gladly gave. We didn't really need to be doing anything together, as with Cory. He was taking art lessons at school, and he definitely showed some talent. He would beam proudly when I praised his creations, several of which were now hanging on my refrigerator. Two boys, identical on the outside, yet so different on the inside, like two sides of the same coin. I missed them both. Having them in school left a void in my days, which I tried to fill by writing. It was a poor substitute, but at least making a book based on them helped. They were all I ever thought about anyway. It wasn't until later that I fully understood the depth of their love for each-other, and for me.

It was only a few days after their education re-started that I learned just how boundless Chris's telepathy was. I was moping about the house late one morning, unable to really concentrate on the book, and considering a job in the teaching profession so I could be near them again. Perhaps the school needed another janitor. Out of nowhere came a soft voice. ("Don't be sad,") I heard in my head. "Jesus!" I shouted, nearly jumping out of my skin. It had sounded like he was right next to me. "Chris? Aren't you in school?" Foolishly I looked around, expecting to find him hiding somewhere.

A boyish giggle came before he answered. ("Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Of course I'm in school.")

"You mean you can talk to me all the way from there?" It was easier for me to speak out-loud. I knew he'd hear.

("Sure.") I could almost picture him shrug. ("Sometimes I get bored and talk to my mom, but she usually tells me to pay attention to class. You were feeling sorry for yourself so I thought I'd say hello. We won't be gone forever, you know.")

"I know," I chuckled, amazed that this boy's mind was unhindered by distance, and that he cared enough to want to cheer me up. "It just seems that way, I guess. I miss you. Both of you."

("We'll be back this afternoon, for gosh sakes 3; Oops, the teacher's telling me to wake up. I've got my eyes closed. Gotta go. Bye Tom!") A few seconds pause, then ("Oh. Love you!") He explained later (when he got home) that he could close his eyes and picture me or his mom and make a 'connection', no matter where he was. Unlike his brother, who had to be near someone in order to 'feel' them, Chris wasn't limited by distance. This became a daily occurrence, and my days passed easier.

Susan's hours were more regular now that the twins were in school, getting home every night around six, and we settled into a routine. First, the boys would come to my place after school and do their homework. Then they would read what I had written that day for the book and make comments and suggest a change here or there. I had to admit they made good editors, telling me their characters, Corin and Crispen, should do this or that. I took care of Tomas, the character based on me. I had to be in it too, of course.

In the book, the twins were sorcerer's apprentices, with me being the sorcerer. Basically, I get captured by an evil king and saved by the two psychic boys. It was coming along rather well, but I could tell it was going to be longer than any of my previous stories. I worried that my young readers might be intimidated by such a long novel, but the twins assured me that it was just fine, and I trusted their judgement. Another concern was that it was becoming tinged with a subtle kind of eroticism. Nothing so graphic as sex, of course, but with little things like the boys and the sorcerer (me) swimming naked in a lake, or kissing and hugging quite a bit. There was even a scene where the man gave the boys a bath, which seemed a bit much, in hindsight. I had made my character deliberately old, to make him seem more venerable (who ever heard of a young wizard?), but the boys and he obviously loved and cared about each-other, and he thought them beautiful. I mentioned this to Chris one day and he just shrugged, unconcerned.

"But it's just like we are," he pointed out, meaning the three of us. "You're writing the story for boys, and I think a lot of boys would like to have an old man like you love them. Um, I mean like the sorcerer," he added, his eyes twinkling with amusement. I had to swat his bottom for that, and he squealed happily at having got me, but he seemed to know what he was talking about. I let it be.

After the editing session we sometimes went outside to play catch or throw a frisbee, and usually ended up wrestling in the grass. Jeremy, the 12-year-old from the pool, occasionally joined us in our outdoor romps. He and the twins went to the same school and rode the bus together, and had become good friends. When the three of them ganged-up on me they could usually get me pinned to the ground with ease. Actually, I didn't put up much of a fight. I didn't mind being on the bottom of a giggling pile of boys at all. With the twins, my hands would poke and grope them everywhere while we struggled, but with Jeremy I restrained myself to an occasional belly-tickle. He was certainly tempting, but I wasn't sure how he would react to the liberties I took with Cory and Chris. Boy-love and paranoia go hand-in- hand. I'm sure the twins knew I found Jeremy attractive, but they never said anything about it. It was kind of a "You can look but don't touch" relationship. They would have been jealous if I shared my affections with anyone else, the same as I would be if they 'messed around' with another man.

On cold or rainy days the three of us would cuddle on the couch watching TV, or play games on the computer. My hands had a good time stroking the smooth, warm skin under their shirts until Susan came home. Once in a while things went beyond cuddling and shirts, but we usually saved our energies for Saturday night. That was when their mother would go out with friends and Cory and Chris would spend the night with me.

On some afternoons the twins took the initiative, seemingly anxious for a bit of sex-play. Whether they were responding to my desire or their own I don't know. Nor do I care. I think it was the 2nd or 3rd time that I started recognizing the signals of what they had in mind. They rushed through their homework and tackled me on the couch, which was how these sessions had always begun. Cory and Chris, like boys in general, liked to follow a set pattern or routine, and these little sexual forays seemed to be following the same script. I suppose it gave them a sense of being in control of the situation, and they could know what to expect. After we had wrestled a while the boys would declare that they were hot, and then strip off their clothes until they wore just their underpants. Staying true to form, that's what they did. They were both wearing the little bikini-briefs I had bought for them several weeks ago. Chris wore the leopard-skin print, and Cory had on his favorite camouflage. The low-rise briefs covered about as much skin as their speedos had, and their diminutive boy-parts were nicely outlined beneath the thin material, promising more to come. The smooth, lean, identical bodies of the two young boys seemed even more enticing and sensual when they were barely covered. They knew that I thought this, which was why they left the tiny garments on. The twins wanted to please me as much as I wanted to please them, as any good, loving relationship should be.

Free of their clothes, we wrestled some more on the carpet, my hands poking and squeezing wherever I wanted, until I allowed myself (as usual) to be pinned. This time it happened to be Cory, straddling me on my chest with his near-naked body, his thin arms holding mine to the floor. Leaning over me like that, I got a nice view of his bare chest, with his tiny nipples pointing at my face. "I win!" he crowed in his high voice. Following the rules they had established long before in their own twinly struggles, he grinned impishly, sat up and pulled down the front of his 'Rambo' briefs. His stiff little boner stuck out eagerly, waiting for it's reward.

"Kiss it!" he demanded, victorious. Always one to follow the rules, I lifted my head and he leaned forward again until his pecker poked at my lips. I placed several kisses on the tender little thing before taking it in my mouth. Over the past few weeks the rules had been amended to include a blow-job. My tongue was always happy to fellate and stimulate their young, hairless hard-ons, something we all enjoyed to no end since they were dry and could climax several times in a row.

As soon as I sucked him in, Cory began humping my mouth in earnest. I wasn't in as much of a hurry as he was, however. I pulled down his underpants until his butt was bared and grabbed him with my thumbs on his hips and my fingers squeezing his baby-soft buns. This way, I could hold him up a bit and also slow him down. I didn't want his rigid little sausage poking my eye out in his frenzy. Chris snickered when he heard that thought, then he put a pillow under my head to make me more comfortable. After only a few minutes of stroking himself in and out of my mouth, Cory climaxed. I could feel his buttocks clenching beneath my fingers as his body shuddered in delight. I think my excitement, combined with his own, made him reach the peak quicker than his twin could.

His brother was the next youngster on my list of things to do. As Cory rolled over to catch his breath, I sat up and grabbed hold of Chris. I was straying from the script just a little, but no-one complained. He laughed delightedly as he tried to escape, and squealed in protest as I deftly pulled off his little underpants. The boy tried heroically to protect his already stiffened cocklet, but to no avail. My tickling fingers showed no mercy as I playfully squeezed the tiny organ. Taking the pillow, I stretched Chris out on top of it, putting it beneath his back. Eager to help torture his brother, Cory crawled over and held Chris's arms to the floor, over the boy's head, while I sat lightly on his knees. Chris realized his immobile predicament at once, and his face showed a kind of dread mixed with anticipation as he wriggled, trying to escape. It was useless, of course, but he had to make the effort.

I ran my fingers over his underarms, and Cory had to hold on tighter as his brother jerked in reflex. Continuing down his naked body, I stroked over the boy's nipples, feeling the hard little tips for a few seconds before moving on. His back was arched over the pillow, and his every breath served to make his ribs and hips stand out in sharp detail. Chris was grinning as I came to his stiffened young penis, and it twitched with anticipation when I softly touched it. He knew exactly what was on my mind, and when I raised myself off of his knees he willingly lifted his legs and spread himself wide apart. His thighs were almost at right-angles to his body, with his knees nearly touching the carpet; young children and gymnasts seem to share the same limberness.

I stretched out on my stomach on top of him, being careful to keep my weight on my elbows. If boy-love is a religion, I was about to perform my devotions. Feeling the heat of his body beneath me, I kissed the shallow depression in the center of his chest. Tasting him with my tongue, I licked a small nipple, sensing his life-blood pumping beneath it's tiny, protruding point. It felt amazingly like kissing his lips; the two seemed to be made of the same soft substance, and both could 'pucker'. The boy's breathing increased in tempo, and I felt his narrow hips rise slightly as he pushed himself against me. Moving downward, my lips and tongue worshipped the boy-godling of my faith. His tender, soft flesh was the most precious substance in existence, and the telepathic moans of pleasure inside my head made him seem all the more divine. Then I came to the totem, the idol, of my religion: the phallus. The small, rigid penis stood at the center of my universe, as well as at the center of his body, my altar. Beautiful in it's absolute perfection, unblemished by coarse hair or smelly sweat, I kissed it.

Cory broke the spell. "Hey, he didn't pin you!" he protested, aware that his twin was about to get a blow-job. Blow-job. Such a crude word for an act that bordered on divine revelation.

"I don't have to pin him," Chris replied smugly. He turned his head to stick his tongue out at his brother. Cory scowled and released his arms, but Chris stayed as he was. "Don't stop," he breathed softly.

Eager to obey his commands, and to regain the sensations of a moment before, I caressed him again with my lips. If someone had told me a few months ago that I would someday be sucking a naked, spread-eagled, nine-year-old boy on my carpet I would have laughed derisively. Yet here I was, and it wasn't a dream. It wasn't the first time either, but it still held me in awe. His tiny testes rested happily on my tongue as I sucked in his satiny sack. A small purse of thin, sensitive boy-skin, I could feel the heat within his body as I rolled the small nuggets around in my mouth. The boy's legs twitched as I tickled his groin with my oral caresses, and his whimpers of pleasure now also escaped his lungs as well as his mind. I went down on his erection, closing my lips around it so quickly that he groaned in surprise, his body trembling with joyful lust. The sensitive organ seemed to pulse with a life of it's own as my tongue slowly stroked it's hard, short length. We were both in heaven, and Cory's empathy drew him in with us, the feelings we were enjoying filling his own young body with an equal pleasure. He was breathing as hard as Chris was as he stretched out alongside him. I had witnessed their lovemaking before, but it was still a wonder to behold as they kissed deeply, Cory's hand roaming freely over his brother's naked chest. He pulled out his own boner and rubbed himself against Chris's side, his strokes perfectly matching the up and down movements my mouth was making on his twin.

I was beyond thought as I heard and felt them both struggle towards the peak, the small penis in my mouth demanding relief as it pushed upwards beneath me, trying to get every millimeter inside my suctioning mouth. With a final grunt of effort, both boys climaxed. Chris's orgasm seemed to flow out of his writhing body directly into my mind, and I couldn't hold myself back either. I came with them. Like wood thrown on a fire, our orgasms fed on each-other; Cory not only felt his own climax, but those of mine and Chris as well. Chris could feel my mind and his brother's, which increased his own pleasure and fed it back to us. It was truly a religious experience, and it left all three of us panting and exhausted when we came back to earth. It hadn't been the first time we all came at once, but it still left us speechless, full of wonder that we could share our love so completely. It also wouldn't be the last.

The reader might get the impression that life with my twin loves was idyllic, that they were never naughty or got into trouble. While they were better behaved than most boys, they still weren't angels. I don't really think I wanted them to be, either. As if to prove it, Cory got into a fight at school. Over Chris, of all things. I was working at the computer one afternoon when suddenly Chris's panicked voice filled my head. ("Cory's fighting!") he nearly screamed.

"What!? What's going on?" I shouted to the air. ("It's Cory! He's fighting a big kid!") I could tell he expected me to do something, but what, I don't know. I wasn't there. Before I could ask him again what was going on, he said a teacher had come over and had broken it up. Then there was silence. Feeling worried and helpless, I sat there wondering what to do. I couldn't call the school and ask if Cory was alright; they would wonder how I knew what had happened. It wasn't until an hour-and-a-half later that my phone rang. It was their principal, and she told me what I already knew, that Cory had been in a fight. I asked if he was alright, and sighed in relief when she said yes. I also had to come pick him up, so we could have a 'chat', she said. The fact that she was calling me didn't surprise me. Susan had given the school my number for emergencies as well as her own. The principal said she had called Susan at work, and Susan – apparently deciding I was ready to deal with insubordination – told her to call me. How wonderful.

I was not a happy person when I got to the woman's office a short while later. Chris had stayed after school as well, to wait for his brother. Outside the office, he sensed my mood as well as Cory could have, and said nothing. The principal ushered me inside, where Cory sat with his head down, looking embarrassed. He glanced at me, feeling my annoyance at having to come here, and his expression was somewhat guilty, yet there was also a trace of good'ole nine-year-old stubbornness. He had a small bruise under his left eye, and his clothes were a mess, but it didn't look like he had been really hurt.

The principal asked what my connection was to the family, and I said I was a close friend. She probably thought this meant Susan and I were dating, but that didn't matter. She said she wasn't really sure who started it, but such behavior would not be tolerated in her school. She had already spoken to the parent of the other boy involved. I felt like a kid myself. There's something about being in a principal's office, no matter what your age. Then she asked if I was the childrens' author, and we got along swell. Cory sat silently fidgeting while we talked about my books and finally, after she was satisfied that I could deal competently with him, she released us. Riding back home in the car, I said nothing, and neither did the boys. I knew Cory could feel my irritation and disappointment, and I wanted him to sweat it out a bit. I could feel him glance nervously at me once in a while.

("Aren't you gonna say anything?") Chris asked me silently.

("Not just yet,") I thought back at him. ("I'll wait till we're home.")

Back at my place, I sat on the couch and looked at Cory expectantly. "It wasn't my fault!" he said hotly, defensively. He went on to explain that it had all been on account of Chris. It seems a sixth-grader had decided Chris would be a good subject for his bullying. Chris had been quietly reading a book underneath a tree during recess when the older boy came along with some friends, tore the book from Chris's hands and called him a wimp for liking to read. Cory (who had been playing basketball) was there in a flash, sensing his brother's distress. Cory declared that if the older boy wanted to bother Chris, he'd have to go through him. Push came to shove, and shove came to hit. Soon both boys were rolling in the dirt, until a teacher broke it up.

"I didn't ask you to get in a fight over it," Chris said softly, slightly embarrassed. Cory was staring at me defiantly, daring me to find fault with him for wanting to protect his baby brother.

"Your excuse may be good," I told him slowly, gathering my thoughts, "but that's still no way to behave. If Chris wasn't being hurt, and he didn't ask for you to help him, you should have stayed out of it."

Cory looked at me in disbelief. I knew what he was thinking, even if I wasn't psychic. How could I say such a thing? How come I wasn't proud of him for sticking up for his twin? Actually I was, because it made me realize once again how deeply he loved his brother, but fighting had to be stopped. "Chris would've just sat there and took it!" he declared, his anger rising. Chris looked slightly insulted at this.

"You're not always going to be around when Chris needs your help," I explained patiently. "Sooner or later he'll have to deal with a situation like that on his own, and you won't be there. If he sits there and takes it, so be it. If he fights back, so be it. The point is that he has to make the decision himself. Fighting is no way to solve anything, but I hope he would defend himself if worse came to worse. Next time, stay out of it."

Cory took this as an affront to his role of 'big brother'. His face darkened and he said with a quiet, yet deadly voice, "You don't have any right to tell me what to do. You're not my father." Chris's jaw dropped in shock as he looked at his twin in disbelief. In a way, it was good to know that even an empathic boy could lash out with a bit of healthy rebellion, but his words still stung a little.

I looked him in the eye and I knew he felt my hurt, but he still had a stubborn expression. "You're absolutely right Cory," I said calmly. "I'm not your father. Just because I care a great deal about what happens to you and Chris doesn't give me any right to tell you what to do. I guess you can go."

Now it was Cory's turn to look surprised. It obviously hadn't been what he expected. Chris gave me an admiring smile; he knew exactly what I was doing. Cory half-turned as if to leave, indecisive, then faced me, biting his lip worrisomely. "I 3; I didn't mean that," he said, his face apologetic. He struggled for words. "You're b-better than a father."

I pulled him to me and gave him a hug, letting him know the spiteful words were forgotten. Things said in anger should never be taken seriously. His body was stiff at first, but then he relaxed as the last trace of resistance washed away and he hugged me back. Cory stood back up and promised he wouldn't get in any more fights, unless of course his brother actually needed help. I could live with that. "Are you gonna punish me?" he asked worrisomely, but he also looked somewhat hopeful. I realized he wanted some kind of reprimand; to his thinking, it was another one of those father-son type things that he thrived on.

"Spank him!" Chris suggested gleefully. Cory gave him a dark look.

"No, I think he'd like that too much," I teased.

"You mean you would," Cory retorted with a smirk. I tried to grab him but he skipped away, laughing.

I came up with something that would fit the crime. "I know what. Your punishment is to do the dishes, dry 'em and put 'em away."

"But you've got a dishwasher!" Cory objected. So did their mother. Dishes were not something these boys had to do very often. My dishwasher was full, too, and he knew it.

"I know I do," I said smugly. "I'm looking at him." Chris chuckled and Cory grumbled at him as he stomped into the kitchen without another word. Soon we heard dishes clanking a bit roughly in the sink.

Chris looked at me thoughtfully. "He's not really mad," he said softly. "He kind of wanted you to punish him."

"I know he did," I said, feeling rather pleased with myself at the way I had handled everything. I was sure Susan would approve.

Chris cocked his head, studying me. "You're pretty smart."

"Of course," I boasted. "I'm a boyologist!" After a while, we silently went to the kitchen and helped Cory finish his punishment. "So," I said, putting away a glass, "you actually took on a 6th-grader?" Cory's proud, smiling face could have lit up a darkened room.

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