Randu

Double Trouble

Chapter 6-10

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.

Chapter 8

Susan had told me that when they were still very young the three of them sometimes went for walks to the park. Occasionally they would come upon a homeless person huddled against a wall somewhere. Cory would look gravely at the man or woman, feeling the destitute hopelessness coming from the person's very soul. The boy would glare at his mother angrily, as if she should be able to make things better, yet knowing she was as helpless as he. With a solemn face, Cory would dig in his pockets and give the person whatever he found; be it a piece of string, a stray penny or nickel, or some pretty stone he had found earlier. The little boy's honest, sincere compassion usually brought forth a tear and a "God bless you child" from the individual as they took his small offering. It might have been worthless, but it was far from meaningless. The only thing that could ever make one of the twins hurt another human-being was if the other were in danger. They were good boys, and it was an honor to be loved by them.

On the Saturday of their birthday I threw them a big party at the local pizza-parlor. We invited quite a few of their friends from school, including several girls. I was fairly sure neither Cory or Chris was gay, although obviously I wouldn't have had any problem with it if they were. They had both had a crush on a female teacher once, and now I could see how they were behaving towards their pretty schoolmates. (Pretty for girls, that is. Their beauty paled in comparison to that of the handsome pair of boys.) While a single boy would be somewhat torn between acting shy and showing-off, the twins split the two behaviors between them. Chris acted shy and Cory did the showing-off. For Cory that basically meant acting silly, and more than a little rude. He belched a lot, or opened his mouth wide to present a lovely display of half-chewed pizza. The girls were suitably disgusted. Susan was mostly shocked, and put a stop to it soon enough.

No, they weren't gay. The two of them were simply at that pre-adolescent stage in life where the male body, with it's familiar anatomy, was more fun to play with and more interesting than a girl's. After all, what parts did a girl have that could be stroked and fondled to an obvious state of arousal? Cory and Chris had a very hedonistic attitude when it came to their bodies and sex. Basically, if it felt good, they did it. Or let me do it. Their attraction to me was based more on love and friendship, rather than anything physical, and our love-making grew out of that. We just wanted to make each-other feel as good as possible, which is what love is all about. It was why I threw them a party; I wanted them to be happy and have fun.

I was sort of the celebrity guest-of-honor as well as the host, since most of the kids had read some of my books or had at least heard of me. The twins flaunted me like some kind of prize-trophy, making sure there were no doubts over whom I belonged to. Autographed place mats and napkins were freely given, with their permission. Cory boastfully told his friends that I was writing my next book about him and his brother, which impressed everyone nicely. I wasn't sure if it had been wise to say this, since the story dealt with their psychic talents, but it was too late now and both boys were really proud about the book. I suppose they could pass off the telepathic parts as fiction, if they wanted.

I got to meet Susan's parents when they came a little later. They seemed like a friendly couple, and reminded me a lot of my old neighbors. I'm sure they thought that Susan and I had a 'thing' going. Little did they know that my thing was for their grandsons. The boys hugged them hello, but I could see some uneasiness between them and their grandmother. She knew of their talents, and it obviously made her uncomfortable being around them, which the twins could sense. It was a shame, really. Every kid needs that special spoiling that only grandparents can give. Their grandfather, for his part, seemed to be at ease around them, and they with him. The twins led him off to play the various games the pizza-parlor offered, and all three were having a good time.

I gave the boys their gifts afterwards, when we were back home and by ourselves. Cory and Chris had insisted on spending the night since it was a Saturday, even though their mom hadn't gone out. I certainly didn't mind. I watched anxiously as they sat on the floor in front of me and tore open their presents, their faces filled with boyish curiosity and eagerness. Chris had reluctantly promised not to read my mind and ruin the surprise, so when they finally got the boxes open and saw what I had bought for them both boys were 3; stunned? Amazed? Definitely surprised. "Do you like them?" I asked, my voice sounding worried, hoping they weren't disappointed.

Chris was holding a Barney The Dinosaur coloring book and audio-tape, while Cory had a stuffed Barney doll and video-tape. I didn't care very much for the singing purple dinosaur myself, but he seemed to be rather popular lately. The twins looked slightly bewildered though, as if there had been some kind of mistake.

"Barney The Dinosaur?" Cory asked in disbelief, his voice rising into the upper octaves on the last syllable. Chris elbowed him in the ribs, giving him a warning look. Chris was always the more mannerly of the two.

"Uhh 3; Gee Tom 3; Thanks," said Chris, trying his best to be polite, but looking woefully disappointed and avoiding my eyes.

"You don't like your gifts, do you," I accused, sounding both sorry and hurt, as if it were their fault and not mine. I knew they could tell how badly I felt. Both boys looked miserably pained, torn between not wanting to hurt my feelings and telling me the truth, which was obvious. I had made a serious blunder. Barney was a gift for little kids. How could I have been so stupid?

"Um, sure we do Tom," Chris began, failing in his attempt to sound sincere. "They're 3; um 3; nice?" He looked at his brother for help, but Cory seemed to be still in shock. The boy was looking at me as if I had somehow taken leave of my senses. "Barney??" Cory asked again, his face scrunched up in mind-boggled amazement.

Their crestfallen expressions were too much for me; my concentration wavered and a small chuckle escaped me. Both boys immediately gave me suspicious looks, their eyes narrowing in doubt. I couldn't keep up the charade any longer. "Barney?!?" I cried, imitating Cory's high voice and comical face. I lost it. Cascades of cackling laughter rolled out of me as the boys frowned in disgust at each-other and then at me. They'd been had. Royally. I laughed even harder. Cory and Chris had fallen for it completely, and I'd given an Oscar-winning performance.

The two brothers scowled at me some more until finally they'd had enough of my maniacal howling. "Let's get him!" Cory declared to his twin, apparently unable to just stand there and take it any longer. Suddenly I was attacked by two just-turned ten-year-olds, tickling, poking and pinning me until we were all laughing so hard we fell off the couch in a tangled heap. It was great. I'd fooled the psychic twins!

Once I'd gotten myself under control again – which wasn't easy with them tickling me – Cory asked, "You do have something else for us, right?" His tone said I'd better have, if I wanted to live.

I chuckled again, wiping a tear of laughter from my eye. "Of course I do. They're under 3;" Before I could say "the couch" Chris was already looking underneath it. I was too exhausted to try and control my thoughts anymore. I could never do it for very long anyway. He pulled out two small, identical boxes and handed one to Cory. I watched with a bemused expression as they hesitated, looking at me doubtfully and then the gifts as if the boxes might be rigged with spring-loaded snakes or some other devious device.

"Go ahead," I told them, "those are the real ones." They ripped open their gifts – showing no mercy to the wrapping paper – and each pulled out a shiny gold necklace. "Do you like those better?" I asked, this time with genuine concern.

Cory gave me a side-long glance and shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, they're okay, I guess." He didn't sound very enthusiastic. Now I really felt bad. I thought they'd like a more adult type gift. They had gotten plenty of toys at the party. Cory let me suffer for a few moments and then he broke out in a wide grin. "I'm just teasing," said the little imp. "I like it."

"Yeah," his brother agreed, "they're cool. Put it on for me." He came over and sat beside me, handing me the necklace. I fastened the thin, delicate chain around his neck, and did the same for Cory. The 18-karat gold looked good on them, sparkling almost as brightly as their brown eyes. I've always felt that a beautiful boy looked even sexier with a simple adornment such as a necklace or an ear-stud. It somehow served to enhance the uncomplicated, pure beauty of boyhood. The twins covered me with kisses, thanking me for the gifts (the real ones, anyway) and the party, and all was well with the world. Well, almost. They did vow to get even for my joke. When I least expected it, of course.

We watched TV for a while, all three of us cuddling together on the couch. My hands would slide inside the shirts of my identical friends, stroking over their soft backs and bellies. It was delightfully cozy. Cory asked for a beer, and since it was their birthday I decided to indulge him. Chris even took a few swallows, to celebrate the occasion. Then we followed what had become our Saturday-night routine, which started with the three of us taking a shower together. It was rather crowded, but it was certainly fun. I had promised to have an outdoor, enclosed hot-tub built in the back-yard next spring, so we could enjoy our aquatic activities more fully.

With my back to the spray and Chris facing his twin in front of me, I bent down and lathered the boy from neck to groin. My hands could feel every delicate curve and contour of Chris's naked body as they slid up and down his soapy front. My favorite features in this wet, slippery expanse of sudsy boy-flesh were his pointed nipples and small, hardened cocklet. All three of us were sporting healthy erections, actually. Occasionally I'd gently tweak a stiffened boy-tit while my other hand slid over and around his very sensitive genitals; Chris would respond with a low groan and a pulsing, eager thrust of his little hard-on against my hand. Cory lovingly washed his brother's legs, gently stroking Chris's inner thighs and tickling his tiny nuts, while I turned the attention of one hand to the boy's backside. Lower backside, to be precise. I intimately cleaned between the rubbery halves of his perky little butt, creating a great deal of lather and giggles. Chris shivered in delight as his young body tingled with pleasure, and started humping harder against my sudsy hand when I tickled his anus with a fingertip. He came when the finger started pushing inside him, sharing the orgasm with us as only he could.

After rinsing him off Cory took up station between us, eager for the same treatment. I gladly obliged. Then it was my turn. With Cory in front and Chris behind me, they washed and rubbed me everywhere, being sure not to miss a spot. Their small hands fluttering over my body gave me chills of pleasure, and the boys chuckled devilishly with the knowledge of their absolute power over me. Cory masterfully soaped my erection, being careful not to take me past the point of no return. That would come later (no pun intended). When I first explained to them the joy – and need – of delaying an orgasm, they were slightly confused. A pre-teen boy can orgasm repeatedly; the adult-male's need to delay it seemed like an alien concept to them. They constantly teased me about it, saying my ability to only cum two times (once for each of them, of course) made me an old fart.

After quickly washing our hair we rinsed off one final time and grabbed our towels. Once dry, the twins headed for my room while I went around the house turning off the lights. I left a hall-light on, which dimly lit my bedroom enough to see two nude, squeaky-clean boy-angels already engaged in nocturnal diversions on top of the covers. Laying on their sides in the 69 position, the twin boys each silently suckled on an identical, stiffened penis. I stretched out alongside them, stroking the soft, curving flanks of first one and then the other, watching with wonder as they made love. It never ceased to amaze me how much they cared for each-other; so close in mind, body and spirit, one could never hit or otherwise hurt the other without feeling it himself. Pleasuring themselves bordered on narcissism. Their bodies moved as one, the buttocks of both boys flexing and relaxing in perfect unison as the rhythms of sex took control. Eyes closed, heads nestled dreamily on a smooth thigh, Cory and Chris tenderly tongued and sucked on each-other's excited genitals, twin little cocks sliding in and out of identical, puckered mouths. It was the most intimate act of brotherly-love I have ever witnessed. They came together of course, giving themselves a wonderfully personal birthday-gift.

After resting for a few minutes they turned their attentions to me. Pushing me onto my back, Chris snuggled his delightfully bare body next to mine and softly stroked my chest, playing with my nipples until they almost hurt. My one hand ran up and down the supremely soft, warm skin of his back, down to his baby-soft buttocks.

I knew what was coming next, but it always took me by surprise when Cory started kissing my cock, sending a shudder through my whole body. Laying between my legs, Cory was a maestro, playing my instrument of love with an expertise rarely seen in a young boy. Taking as much of me as he could, Cory sucked and licked the head of my erection, and used his empathic sense to bring me to the brink time and time again before backing off. My dick was covered with his warm, slippery spit, and he used his hands to squeeze and stroke what his mouth couldn't cover. Chris began darting his tongue over one of my tits, occasionally nibbling on it as well. It was wonderful, maddening, intense. The twins knew exactly how to turn me on, sensing my reactions through body and mind. They were playing a duet, and I was their groaning, whimpering, musical instrument. Cory's little tongue slurped and slobbered to-and-fro on my cock like a boy with a popsicle, one moment swirling around the head and the next driving it in and out of his mouth. When I got to the point where I thought I'd go insane if I didn't climax, Cory took me all the way. I cried out as my body orgasmed and Cory felt it just as intensely as I did, his small frame shivering between my legs. I exploded in the boy's mouth, and he sucked on me almost greedily, swallowing every spurt until I was finished and then squeezing out that last drop. I opened my eyes to see Cory grinning at me from above my wilting cock; he seemed rather pleased with himself, and licked his lips in satisfaction.

After I'd regained my breath Cory climbed up my body and snuggled on top of me, laying his small head on my chest. Feeling mischievous, I tickled his sides and under his hips. The boy giggled and squirmed against me, his bare skin sliding like living velvet on my own. Moving quickly I rolled us over so that I had him pinned beneath me. Cory smiled at me expectantly, and we kissed. His lips were softer than soft, molding to my own perfectly as we explored each-other's mouths, tasting each-other's saliva. I could feel Chris's hands stroking us both, patiently waiting his turn.

I moved down Cory's young, perfect body, kissing and licking the tiny points of his nipples, tonguing his navel until he giggled, then pecking at his pecker, still standing at attention. My own was coming back to life already. A willing, beautiful, naked boy does wonders for one's sexual stamina. I gave his aroused genitals a few licks, sucking first one and then both of his tiny balls into my mouth, and then worked my way lower towards his nether regions. Cory eagerly lifted his slender legs and spread them wide up in the air, granting my tongue and lips access to his small hole. Both boys had been surprised and delighted when I first tried this on them; they hadn't discovered the pleasures of anal stimulation on their own yet. In fact it was the one thing they wouldn't do to each-other, saving the delicacy for me to enjoy.

Cory whined softly as my tongue stroked the length of his hairless crack, and the tiny pucker loosened as I pushed inside his body, tasting the very essence of ten-year-old boyhood. It was heavenly. I could have sustained my body on nothing else for several days. Chris fondled his brother's little cock, while I enjoyed myself. After a few minutes of this I started inserting my middle-finger, first wetting it down with some spit. Feeling his little sphincter clamp down at first and then relaxing to allow it entry, soon my finger was embedded deep inside the youngster's bottom, a place it had been before on many occasions. Cory shuddered and moaned as I pressed on the tiny bulb of his prostate, sending intense pleasure-signals through his entire being. I took his straining erection in my mouth and he came almost immediately, his sphincter spasming around my finger as I touched the magic button again, the boy's little penis twitching merrily in my mouth. He was panting when it finished, exhausted, and I withdrew my finger as he lowered his legs back to the bed.

"Wow," said Cory, at a loss for words. I climbed up his body and crouched over him, and gave him a small kiss. Cory's face had a small, gentle smile on it; he was happy. I was too.

"Now do me!" demanded Chris, rolling over on his back next to us. I groaned theatrically, as if all this boy-loving were a chore. He wasn't fooled. I was about to shift over to him when Cory wrapped his arms around me, holding me in place.

"Wait a minute," he said, sounding somewhat nervous. He raised his legs back up. "I 3; um," he glanced at Chris, and his brother nodded encouragingly at him. Then he said, all-in-a-rush, "I-want-you-to-put-your-dick-in-me."

I was too stunned to speak. Cory studied my face for a moment and then took matters into his own hands; he grabbed my cock and aimed it at his back-door. I almost started pushing and then caught myself, rolling over next to him instead so that he was between me and Chris. Chris was silent, watching me (and listening) as my thoughts churned.

"What's the matter?" asked Cory, lowering his legs and looking slightly hurt that I had pulled away. "Don't you want to 3; well, you know, fuck me?" Chris raised his eyebrows at his brother's use of the F-word, and it left me slightly shocked as well.

I had to clear my throat before I could speak. "Cory, I don't think you're big enough for that yet," I explained patiently. I was more than willing to wait a year or two, if he still wanted to do it then. "If we do it now I'm afraid I'd hurt you, and I don't want to do that." I tried kissing him, but he wasn't having any of it.

"I'm 10 years old now," he stated stubbornly, as if he had somehow grown since yesterday, when he was nine. "Besides," he pointed out, "your finger felt good up there."

"Cory," I said, fearing I was losing my resolve, "my dick is a lot bigger than my finger. I don't think it could fit without hurting you." Hurting either of the boys was an impossibility, something I wouldn't even consider.

"You've thought of doing it though," he accused, and I felt guilty because I had considered it. "I know 'cause Chris told me." I glanced at Chris and he shrugged. There were no secrets between them. I had no secrets from them. Chris still hadn't said anything; I suspected he was waiting to see what the outcome would be. If I consented, it would mean a yes for both of them. There was no way I could only do it with one and not the other.

"Sure, I've thought of doing it," I admitted, stroking Cory's firm chest and playing with a delicate nipple, "but I don't need to do it." This was the truth; I didn't need to fuck either of them in order to love them. Most man/boy sex never gets beyond the oral stage, something the hysterical public can't seem to grasp. However, I did figure we would 'go all the way' eventually. It was the natural progression of how our love was growing. I just didn't expect for them to bring it up quite this soon.

"But I want to try it now," he said earnestly. "I don't want to wait until I'm older." I was weakening and the empathic boy knew it. "I'll tell you if it hurts and if it does we'll stop. Okay?" He looked at me hopefully, and I knew he could feel my desire for him. He could see it too, standing stiffly once again. "Besides," he added, playing his final card, "it's our birthday so you have to do what we say."

How could any normal boy-lover say no? How could any man, and not regret it for the rest of his life? I nodded yes, and told Chris to go get a jar of Vaseline from the medicine-cabinet in the bathroom. He gave me a curious look, and I explained it was to make Cory slippery inside.

"Have you done this before?" Chris asked suspiciously. I said this would be my first time, and he looked jealously at his brother. "Why should you be the first one?" he said, looking rather annoyed. "Why can't I go first?" I couldn't believe they would argue over who would get to lose his virginity first. I realized it wasn't that though; it was over who would be my first.

Cory looked silently at his identical sibling, and I knew they were arguing in private. Chris looked stubborn and Cory gave him an almost pleading look. Cory must have made some kind of bargain, because his brother seemed to be contemplating something, and then Chris nodded his approval. They sealed the arrangement with their exclusive 'double-promise', linking their pinkies and shaking them once together. I was left wondering what had transpired as Chris gave me a peculiar little smile and scampered off for the gel. I suggested to Cory that he lay on his stomach, but he wanted to stay on his back. When Chris returned I placed a pillow underneath Cory's rear-end and he raised his legs back up in the air. I scooped out a gob of gel and smeared it around his little hole, teasing it with a fingertip. He was tense, and I knew if this was ever going to work I needed to get him relaxed. And I did want it to work. I was honest enough with myself to admit that.

"There's no hurry," I told him. "We have to stretch your hole a little first and you need to learn how to relax it. Okay?" He nodded and shivered as my finger started pushing inside him again. Chris and I stretched out on either side of him, and he rested his legs behind us. I kissed him while my finger played inside his hot, narrow tunnel, and could see by the hard little organ between his legs that he was enjoying the stimulation. After a while I took some more Vaseline and tried for two. "Push your belly muscles like your trying to take a crap," I told him as my fingertips tried entering him. Chris giggled at that, watching the whole operation intently. If this worked, he would be next. Maybe not tonight but sometime in the near future. We spent the next half-hour like that; my fingers gently sliding in and out, our hands and mouths caressing the naked boy everywhere, driving Cory to yet another intense orgasm until he was as loose and relaxed as could be.

"Are you gonna do it now?" he asked, sounding slightly impatient.

For an answer, I got up and lubed my penis. I put more on Cory's already slippery hole, and got between his legs as he lifted them almost to his shoulders, his little package still stiff and pointing at his face. I had him pry apart his buttocks, figuring that would help, and told him that he was in charge; meaning he should tell me when to push and when to stop. In spite of my nervousness my dick was as hard as it could get. I crouched over the young boy beneath me and felt Chris guide my erection to his brother's hole, nosing it's head against the small, greasy opening. Fortunately – for both of us – my dick wasn't very big; I suppose boy-lovers are the only men who wouldn't mind being slightly smaller than average. I pushed against his tight anus, and could feel him reflexively clamp down on the tip.

"Wait a sec," he said, forcing himself to relax again. "Okay."

Again I pushed slowly, firmly, and I could see Cory strain as he pushed down with his stomach muscles. After several minutes of starting and stopping, his loosened little rose-bud had finally stretched far enough to grant me entrance. I was in. Just the head so far, but in nevertheless. Cory told me to wait again as his sphincter struggled to get used to my presence. I could feel an occasional spasm as it grabbed the head of my cock, but Cory seemed to be dealing with it quite well. I asked him if he was okay, and he gave me a determined smile. He probably wouldn't have told me even if it hurt, in spite of what he had said before, but I was sure I could tell by watching his face beneath me in the dim light.

I couldn't believe it had been that easy to enter him; I had always thought that a boy's first time was usually painful. Maybe the last few weeks of tongue-and-finger-fucking had loosened things up a bit. I was glad it wasn't hurting him. I wanted it to be as special for him as it was for me, if not more so. When Cory was ready again he told me to push some more, and I felt the flesh of my rock-hard penis being absorbed a fraction at a time by his tight, virgin rectum, pausing whenever he told me to. Finally, I could go no further. My pubic-hairs were tickling the young boy's scrotum. Cory suddenly shuddered almost violently, legs twitching on either side of me as he clamped down hard on my cock and cried out. I thought he was in pain and started to pull back, but he shook his head quickly from side to side and I realized he had climaxed again. His forehead was covered in sweat, his bangs sticking wetly to his fevered brow. If I hadn't cum once before I would never have made it this far. My entire being was thrumming with the incredible, living, squeezing heat of his inner-body.

"I can feel you almost up to my stomach," Cory said breathlessly, sounding slightly awed at this wonderful new sensation. He squeezed down on my cock, getting to know it's shape and feel inside him, and both of us groaned with pleasure. I could feel the sensitive muscles lining his rectum gripping me tightly, surrounding my penis with a vise-like heat until he relaxed again. Cory smiled hungrily, able to sense the ultimate pleasure his body gave me, and his own feelings of horny young lust combined to make him thirsty for more.

"Doesn't it hurt?" asked Chris, studying the junction of man and boy curiously, fondling his own erection as he sat beside us.

"It's kinda hard to describe," Cory told him. They looked intently at each-other, sharing the experience in their unique, twinly way.

I began fucking him. Pulling almost all the way out, I slowly, gently pushed back in. "Ohhh God," Cory whimpered, bearing down to meet my thrust. He was totally open and relaxed now, resting his ankles on my back, his hands now balled into fists beside his head. I was fucking him. I pushed my length inside him again, and again, sliding in and out easily now. I was fucking a boy on his tenth birthday. My mind refused to believe it, insisting this had to be yet another fantasy, but my body knew no dream could compare with this awesome reality.

Cory moaned with passionate feeling, whimpering either "Oh Jesus," or "Oh Tom," each time I embedded myself deep within his beautiful young body, somehow including me in the Holy Trinity. I knew the empathic boy could feel how intensely every nerve, every fiber of my being was concentrated on the loving union of our bodies as we experienced this ultimate of firsts. He pushed his bottom back eagerly each time I slowly entered his still-tight canal, his ankles digging into the small of my back, both of us moving as one. His hands gripped my forearms for added leverage as we rocked together. The boy's trembling gasps of pleasure as my cock massaged his prostate made me pick up the tempo, pushing into him faster now, both of us nearly crying as we climbed towards the peak. We came together, suddenly, yelling out as our bodies pulsed and throbbed in unison, my penis spurting deep inside him as his sphincter clutched at it possessively, the tendons in his neck straining as he almost screamed from the violent spasms wracking our bodies. In the back of my mind I could hear Chris moaning as well, caught in our spiral until we came back to earth.

Completely drained, both of us covered in sweat, I pulled my member from the youngster's body and fell beside him. Cory rolled over and hugged me fiercely. He was crying. Not from pain, but from the intense feelings of a sexual, undeniably passionate love that neither of us had ever before experienced. It had simply overwhelmed him. I wrapped my arms around both the boys, soothing Cory until he fell quickly asleep from sheer exhaustion. Chris snuggled beside me, and soon joined his twin in slumber. Chris may not have been my first, but I knew he had been able to share the experience through Cory. It was something none of us would ever forget.

I didn't sleep much that night. I never did when the twins were with me. Somehow, when a boy-lover shares a bed with a boy (or two) he can only manage an occasional doze. I drifted in and out of sleep, my mind constantly aware of the two naked boys curled up along either side of me, one of whom had given me the ultimate gift. Fondling the sleeping twins was something I couldn't stop myself from doing. My hands were thieves in the night, stealing touches from their soft, pliant bodies. I played with their occasional, nocturnal erections so gently that they never woke.

When morning regretfully came the boys stirred groggily. They had no objections to staying in bed and cuddling a while longer. It was a Sunday and no-one felt like moving. I asked Cory if he was alright, and he smiled almost shyly and hugged me tenderly, remembering the passion of last night with no regrets. I inspected his posterior, and although his little hole wasn't quite as little as it used to be there wasn't any blood or signs of damage, thank God. Finally, hunger made us seek breakfast. Cereal made that an easy chore. Afterwards, the boys offered to cremate the dreaded Barney gifts, but I insisted they take them home to Susan and she could donate them to the children's wing at the hospital. They dressed and said their goodbyes, but I knew they'd be back later in the day to play a game or something.

I worked on the book for the time being. I'd probably have it finished by early next month, at the rate I was going. My last book was about to hit the stores, and the twins were impressed when I showed them the good reviews in the newspaper. They had offered to help me answer my fan-mail, which usually increased whenever a new one came out, and I gladly accepted.

Struggling for a word in a difficult sentence (writing is work, even for an author), I was lost in thought when someone jabbed two fingers in my sides and yelled, "Boo!!" right in my ear, scaring the daylights out of me. The room was filled with Chris's boyish laughter as he crowed with delight, the little bugger. I hadn't heard a thing as he snuck up on me. "Is that what they mean by jumping out of your skin?" he giggled, smiling broadly. I noticed he wisely stayed out of my reach. That's one thing you have to say about boys: they keep you on your toes. Dealing with two was twice the adventure. Add the word psychic to the equation and even a boy-lover would find himself slightly overwhelmed.

"Maybe I better start locking my door," I told him wryly.

"Sure, go ahead," said the boy confidently. "I know where you hide the extra key."

"I'll move it."

"I'll know where you move it to," he pointed out simply. He had me there. Another argument lost to a ten-year-old. I sighed with resignation at my fate in life, and asked him where Cory was. "He stayed home with Mom," said Chris with a shrug. Sensing that I had given up and wouldn't try anything, he climbed on the chair with me, straddling the arm-rests with his legs and wrapping me up in a friendly boy-hug.

("I've got you all to myself,") I heard inside my head.

"What are you gonna do with me?" I asked worrisomely, already suspecting what he had in mind. For an answer, the boy started nuzzling my neck, giving me an instant hard-on. I pushed my hands underneath his sweatshirt and stroked his back, while his moist lips caressed me. I tilted my head to the side, exposing as much of my neck as I could. His mouth fastened in the center, and with surprise I felt him start sucking. I heard a soft purr, and was amazed when I realized it was coming from me. I could hear and feel his lips suckling like some kind of insatiable boy-vampire trying to draw blood, and it was a totally new, erotic experience for me. It made my whole body tingle. It was also new because Chris was playing the seducer, a role that Cory usually filled. Sometimes I thought they were experimenting with me, trying out new things that might come in handy when they grew up. When my neck finally started to hurt Chris stopped and admired his handiwork.

"You've got a hickey!" he said with glee, sounding rather proud of himself.

His happy smile made me chuckle. "What will your mother think?" I asked in mock alarm. Well, maybe not totally 'mock'. How far did Susan's blessing extend? To hickeys? As far as Cory and I went last night?

Chris heard my doubts, in spite of my joking manner. "Mom doesn't care," he said, trying to reassure me. Somehow I doubted that. "Well, I mean she cares," he elaborated, "but as long as it's something we want to do it's okay. She says most people tell their kids to say no about sex and stuff, but she says it's okay to say yes too, 'cause it's our bodies." The boy gave me a confidential look. "Besides, she had a hickey once. From an old boy-friend. But she called it a love-bite."

I had to laugh at that. Chris smiled at me, glad that he had put my fears to rest. Then he turned serious, hesitating slightly. "Can we pretend it's still my birthday?" he asked softly. "And you have to do what I want?"

There was no need for me to answer. At that moment, he could have asked me to jump off a cliff and I would have done it, as long as I could kiss him one final time. I was pretty sure where this was leading, and I suspected that the deal Cory had made with his twin last night had been to leave Chris and I alone, just the two of us. "Are you sure this is what you really want to do?" I asked him. "You're not just doing this because Cory did, are you?"

("I love you,") the boy thought at me. Honest, simple, right to the point. I hugged him, giving my consent to whatever he wanted to do. I was consenting to the assumed child in the relationship; the irony wasn't lost on me. He wanted to take a bath with me first, which seemed like an excellent way to get us relaxed. He told me – silently – that there was to be no talking. We could only converse through our minds. I realized it was his way of sharing his talent with me, making the experience uniquely different from that which Cory and I had shared.

We went to my bedroom and stripped off our clothes, walking naked, hand-in-hand, to the bathroom. I looked in the mirror at my love-bite, a reddish-purple bruise in the small, oval shape of a mouth, right in the center of my neck. He had put his mark on me; I was his now. Our minds were totally open to each-other (much like his and Cory's must have usually been), and the general drift was basically thoughts of love and friendship, mingled with 'That feels nice', or 'The water's too hot', or 'Rub it faster'.

We were stretched out in the tub, Chris laying on his belly on top me while I scooped water over his back, massaging him. I thought if he would spread his legs a bit I could insert a finger and play with his hole, so he did. I heard a thought flutter by from him about kissing, and then we were. We had only to think of something and it was carried out; a union of mind and body. It was almost a spiritual type of love-making, while with Cory it had been mostly physical. I liked both methods equally, which was fortunate. Loving one boy more than the other would have created a jealous rift between them, something I would never let happen.

When we finished our bath we held hands again as we walked down the hall to my bedroom. Last night, with Cory, it had been sort of impromptu, although I suspected they might have been planning the whole thing all along. Now, here with Chris, it felt like I was leading a virgin bride down the aisle and then on to our honeymoon suite, about to perform a premeditated deflowering that would consummate our love forever. Society would probably say it was more like leading a lamb to the slaughter, I suppose. They would have been hard pressed to tell exactly who was leading whom though.

Still keeping vocal-silence, I laid down on my back and pulled the young boy on top of me, face-up. Hearing my wish for him to stretch out, Chris placed his hands up on the pillow and his legs on either side of mine. I could feel the heavy heat of his naked body covering mine, and I heard him notice how fast my heart was beating beneath him as I began stroking his bare flesh. My erection barely touched the boy's bottom, resting on my lower stomach. Chris was proud that his body could have such a profound effect on a grown man.

My fingertips traveled lightly over his spread-eagled form, teasing his small titties, down his ribs and over his taut tummy and hips, then onto his satiny thighs, running over his stiffened little penis on the way back up. Our thoughts started running together, becoming hard to separate as I continued massaging his soft, sensitive skin: 'Tickles!' 'Love you.' 'Feels nice.' 'Don't stop.' 'So soft.' 'Love you too.' Both of us were purring with pleasure, and occasionally a sigh or groan escaped our lungs. I could feel Chris's breath quickening as I concentrated on his groin, rubbing his two tiny eggs with the fingers of one hand and his rigid, unyielding penis with the other. I reached over to the night stand where the jar of Vaseline still sat from last night and put some of the gel on his genitals, making him giggle and squirm with expectant delight.

'Tickles!' 'Should I stop?' 'No!' My right hand spread the greasy goo all over his aroused little boy-parts, and I felt his buttocks clamp together as his hips raised slightly, pushing his small member demandingly against my fingers. Chris sighed with desire when my hand went further down below, spreading his legs wider and raising them slightly when I pressed against his puckered hole. My finger entered him quite easily, and with my palm I gently pressed and rubbed the young boy's delicate scrotum and balls. My other hand was having fun with his nipples, able to stroke each sensitive, pointy tip on his narrow chest at the same time. His body-heat increased as he writhed on top of me, until sweat formed between our naked skins. I could feel every single tremor, every wonderful shudder of his beautiful body. I bent my head down and sucked on an ear-lobe, tickling it with my tongue, and he whimpered with absolute rapture. I was an octopus, striving to touch and pleasure him everywhere at once. It was my only purpose in life. Chris was no longer thinking coherently; his thoughts were a jumble of almost frantic joy and desire. I pulled my finger out of his bottom and rubbed his oily little dick, the hard, erect young organ slipping and sliding against my greasy palm. He came soon thereafter. It was all I could do to hold myself back from joining him as the orgasmic ten-year-old squealed and twisted, arching his back with bliss on top of me, his mind filling mine with starbursts of ecstasy.

("Had enough?") I thought to him as I felt his body deflate, his ragged breathing slowly returning to normal.

("Uh-uh!") Chris replied emphatically. ("Do it again! But this time use this instead of your finger.") He tilted a leg and reached beneath his butt, grabbing hold of my hardened cock with his small hand. Scooching down my body, he poked it at his little anus, seemingly trying to impale himself.

("Whoa! Wait a minute!") my mind objected, needing to slow things down a bit. The word 'insatiable' came to mind.

("What's insatiable mean?") his thoughts asked. I explained it was someone who couldn't get enough of something, and his mind saw humor in that. ("Yep, that's me!") He paused, then added perceptively, ("But it's you too.") He was right. I couldn't get enough of him either. I had to have him, and Chris wanted to be had.

I rolled us over and straddled his back, placing a pillow beneath his narrow hips. Lovingly, I massaged the bare, warm skin of his back, kneading the pliant muscles of the boy's shoulders and on down his spine. Chris sighed heavily, his head resting on his arms, obviously enjoying it as his body relaxed completely. I dipped two fingers into the jar of Vaseline and lubed his virgin hole, and then put a generous amount on my straining erection. Both our minds were filled with nervous anticipation as Chris bent his knees, spreading his legs as wide as possible.

("This is it,") I thought, about to deflower my second boy in as many days.

("Do it,") he commanded, and I pushed the head of my dick against his shiny, slick asshole. With our minds linked, I could hear if I caused him any pain and how hard I should push, and I entered his body even easier than I had Cory's. It was almost as if experiencing it with us last night had prepared Chris so that he knew what to expect and do when his turn came. I heard a wondrous, continuing moan emanating from the boy's mind as my shaft slid freely up his tight, incredibly hot tunnel for the very first time. Chris trembled beneath me when I came to a stop, my cock buried inside him completely.

("It's big!")

("You alright?")

("It's okay.")

("I love you.")

I'm not sure who thought that last one, me or him. I fucked him slowly, letting him get used to having me inside him. Whenever I pulled partially out I could tell he felt empty, and wanted me to fill him back up again. His slender legs and buttocks would strain with a a lustful yearning as he pushed his bottom back to meet my inward thrust. When Chris moved in the opposite direction, aiding my exit, his small erection rubbed against the pillow, heightening his pleasure. As for me, my second time inside a young boy's body was no less intense than the first. Once again I marveled at the near 100-degree [37.7°C] body-heat surrounding my penis in a tight, wonderfully moist tunnel of living tissue. Every tremble of the boy was felt by me, his small shudders and movements transferred directly onto my shaft. It was an incredibly erotic experience, almost as if his body were a continuation of my own. Our minds sang a passionate harmony together, building in a crescendo as we soared to the ultimate height, then dissolved into a chaotic tumult when we reached the climax of our love. Crying out with triumphant joy, mindless to all but our bodies' pleasure, Chris and I came as one. The only rational thought in our minds was ("I LOVE YOU!") as we both felt my sperm pumping inside his bottom, each pulsating throb of my penis being echoed by the youngster's own wonderful orgasm.

I felt so weak that I almost collapsed on top of the boy, but at the last minute he straightened his legs and we rolled onto our sides together, still intimately joined. I wrapped my arms around him in a gentle hug, feeling his labored breathing slowly return to normal. Our minds were still linked, and I silently asked Chris if he was alright.

("Little sore,") his thoughts answered honestly before he could stop them. I instantly felt chagrin. Our reckless, sexual abandon had hurt one of the boys I loved more than life itself. I started to pull my flaccid penis out of his bottom, feeling so bad that I broke his rule and apologized for hurting him out loud.

("No! I'm ok, really!") Chris declared emphatically in my head. ("Leave it inside, ok? I like how it feels.") He snuggled his posterior against me, making sure I didn't disobey him. ("It's just a little sore is all. You 3; You can do it again if you want,") he added suggestively.

We might have done just that but right then we heard the front door slam. Several seconds later Cory was leering at the two naked bodies laying together like a couple of spoons in a drawer. "How was it?" asked the youngster with a knowing smile.

"Awesome," Chris and I answered together. Chris craned his neck to look at me with a grin, and we both exploded with a fit of giggles. I couldn't think of any other word that would describe it better though.

"Hey, you gave him a hickey!" Cory accused his twin, noticing the small bruise on my neck for the first time and sounding slightly jealous that he hadn't thought of it first. Chris smiled smugly at his brother. If I let the two scamps have their way with me they'd probably have a competition to see who could give me the most, until my body was one big, purple love-bite. An intriguing thought, I must say.

"You wanna do me again?" Cory asked with a coy look. Chris argued that it was still his turn, and I heard myself groaning at what I'd gone and done. I had created two identical, maddeningly sensual, sex-hungry, ten-year-old boys who thought I could fuck them all day and all night and live to tell about it. What a way to go though.

"You guys are gonna be the death of me before I make 35," I told them wryly, slipping myself out of Chris's heinie and sitting up. The twins gave me their patented looks of confused innocence, which meant, "Who, us??"

"It's not our fault you're an old fart," Cory replied with typical wit, smirking and watching me warily for any sudden moves. The boy was too far away for me to go after though, and I didn't feel like chasing him naked through the house. Now, if he were naked that would be different, of course.

Suddenly Cory's face turned serious. "Mom knows," he declared simply. He didn't have to explain. I knew what he meant. Cory went on to say that his bottom had been a bit tender today and Susan had asked what was wrong. She had an uncanny intuition, which was probably where the boys had inherited their 'sixth sense' from. Rather than lie Cory had told her the truth. "She made me drop my pants so she could see if I was hurt," Cory added. I felt a knot of apprehension growing in the pit of my stomach. "She was really mad, Tom," the boy went on, looking at me with a worried expression. "Mom said she never meant you could do something like that, and she said she might even call the police." Cory's brow furrowed with concern. "They can't do anything to you, can they? I mean, it was our idea and all."

At the word 'police', the knot in my stomach tightened into a nauseous lump, filling me with a terrible dread. I felt my face go pale in absolute terror. I'd gone too far. Susan might have been willing to let her sons enjoy a little sex-play with a loving adult, but now we were talking about anal-intercourse. Cory was naive in thinking their consent would mean anything. My career was over. My life was over. Jail was a certainty. And Cory had wanted to do it again?? I raised my head to look at him, and his face was covered in a big, ear-to-ear grin.

"GOTCHA!!" he yelled triumphantly. Cory shrieked with laughter as I held my head in my hands and groaned with a mixture of tremendous relief and an overwhelming need for retribution.

"You little shit," was all I could get out, grinning in spite of my desire to throttle him. Cory laughed even harder at getting me to swear, a rare accomplishment indeed. He taunted me further by swaying his hips from side-to-side, and yelling "Gotcha, gotcha, gotcha," in a sing-song voice. It was too much. I lunged off the bed, but his 10-year-old reflexes were expecting that as he led me on a merry chase through the house, skipping and laughing just out of my reach. We ended up in the living-room, staring at each-other from opposite ends of the couch, both of us smiling and panting.

"I told you I'd get you back for last night," Cory grinned at me in defiance. "You were ready to run for the border," he added with a delighted chortle. I climbed over the couch and he had to detour down the hall, until I had him cornered by the entrance-way. Cory looked slightly worried for a moment as I advanced slowly upon him, then he realized he had the door behind him. Before you could say 'young rascal' he was outside and the door slammed behind him. It was either give-up or chase him through the neighborhood in the nude, and get arrested for streaking. Damn little bugger, I thought to myself with grudging admiration. I'd been thwarted once again by a ten-year-old.

I heard a small chuckle somewhere behind me and turned slowly around to see Chris standing there, still naked and covering his mouth to keep from laughing out-loud. Apparently he'd found the whole scene rather humorous. I still had another option left to me it seemed. I gave him a long, speculative look. "Hey, don't look at me like that," he said, now appearing a bit nervous. "I didn't have anything to do with it."

I didn't really care. If I couldn't catch Cory I'd settle for Chris. They looked the same, after all. I took a small step towards him and he backed up, holding his hands out in front of him. "Don't even think about it," said Chris, backing up another step, his wide eyes watching me warily as I did think about it. I leaped at him and he screamed with mock terror, running down the hall towards my bedroom. How convenient, I thought to myself.

A flying pillow caught me in the head when I came through the door, and the naked boy held the other one cocked in his arm, ready to fire. He was standing on the bed, watching for my next move with eager anticipation, and a big grin on his face at drawing 'first blood'. I picked up the pillow he'd thrown and advanced on him. We swung at the same time, catching each-other up-side-the-head, as it were, and then it was a free-for-all, every man (or boy) for himself. Chris fought valiantly, but he was laughing and giggling so hard that he couldn't put much into it. Finally I knocked him flat on his back and pinned him to the bed with an arm and a leg. With a 'never say die' attitude he stuck his tongue out at me. My free hand poked and tickled the nude youngster, eliciting squeals of squirming laughter until finally I let him calm down and simply stroked his bare skin. I let his arms and legs go and pulled him on top of me, belly-to-belly.

"You're mean," he accused, his pouting lips an inch away from mine as he stared at me. A smile hid behind the words, and I knew he wasn't really angry at me for picking on him when it was Cory who had fooled me. Chris was having as much fun as I was, as usual. I pecked his lips with mine and he made a disgusted face, wiping his mouth with the back of a hand. Then he kissed me back.

Boys. You gotta love 'em.

Chapter 9

"You didn't waste any time," she said with just a trace of resentment, referring to the loss of her sons' virginity. I didn't know what to say. Whether it had been the twins' idea or mine to go all the way didn't matter. I didn't have to agree to it. Susan sighed with a trace of melancholy.

"I'm not really mad at you Tom," she said. "It's just that they seem to be growing up so fast. While it's hard for me to believe they really enjoyed it 3; what you did 3; they say they liked it. And I could tell if they were lying." I'm sure she noticed the hickey Chris had given me, but I think she was afraid to ask which boy had done it to me. She got up and beckoned me to follow. We stopped outside the twins' room, and she pushed the door open so I could see inside.

At first I didn't notice anything unusual. Just Cory and Chris, sound asleep in their beds, appearing even more beautiful and pure in slumber. Then it hit me: In their beds. Plural. Cory was in the top bunk, and Chris was underneath. I looked at Susan questioningly, but she held a finger to her lips and quietly shut the door.

"Did they have a fight or something?" I asked her when we were back in the kitchen. It seemed inconceivable for the two brothers to go to sleep angry at each-other, but I couldn't think of anything else.

"That's what I thought too," Susan said with a look of wonder, "but when I asked them if something was wrong Cory said, 'No Mom, we're not babies anymore you know.'" She shook her head, obviously unsure of what exactly had happened. I wasn't sure either. When the boys were still in diapers they had put up such a fuss whenever Susan had tried to separate them for bed that finally she had just given up. When their father left it had been even worse. Cory and Chris slept in each-other's arms, sometimes even sucking a brother's thumb in a desperate attempt to find an anchor they could rely on in a terrifying world of confusing thoughts and emotions.

"They're changing, Tom," Susan began haltingly, "and it's because of you. Chris used to be so shy he hardly ever talked to anyone. Now I can't get him to shut up. And Cory, he's doing much better in school, and he's not nearly as rambunctious as he used to be." That last point was arguable, but I let it slide. She looked off in the direction of their room, where the twins slept in separate beds, and shook her head in amazement once again. "Now this," she said softly.

The great author still didn't know what to say. I wasn't doing anything special to Chris and Cory, and I certainly wasn't trying to change them. Even if it was for the better. All I was doing was loving them. Their mother reached the same conclusion. "It's 3; It's hard for me to approve of what you and the boys did, but I know you didn't hurt them, and it was as much for yourself as it was for them." Susan's face suddenly hardened with determination. "I need to know, Tom, are you going to just drop them when they get older? I mean, they're not gonna be young boys forever. They're going to grow up, and grow hair where you don't want it." Her bluntness made me squirm, but I knew where she was leading. "Because if you are, we're better off stopping everything right now. You'll be no better than their father was."

She was right. Relationships between a man and boy (or boys) were by nature temporary, at least in the sexual-attraction department. Boys grew up eventually, becoming men, and an integral part of the relationship would be gone forever. It's not something I liked to think about, but I couldn't avoid the inevitable. Love could still survive however, or at the very least a deep friendship. After all, sex wasn't the only reason I loved Cory and Chris, it was only one part of the 'big picture'.

"No, I'm not going to just leave them," I told her honestly. "Sure, they're going to grow up, and when they're teens they probably won't be interested in fooling around with me either. They'll find girlfriends, and this may sound presumptuous but I hope that by having been loved by and loving me they'll be better prepared for marriage and sex later on."

Susan considered this and then nodded, seeming to agree with me.

"We'll all change, but I'm not just going to ignore them when they get older. I'll still be here, and we'll all still be very good friends, I hope." This wasn't just wishful thinking on my part either. I had read several true accounts of other boy-lovers, about how the boy grew into a man and still thought of his former lover as a dear and very close friend, long after they had ceased to have sex. In some ways, the love between the man and former boy became like that shared by an elderly couple; the fire and passion might be gone, but love was still there. (And no, I'm not saying that elderly people never have sex.)

Susan looked relieved and satisfied with my answer, and I added, "Besides, maybe I could learn to like a bit of body-hair."

She laughed and gave me an exasperated look. "You're incorrigible," she declared with a grin. No arguments there.

I was not having a good day. First, there was a short power-outage and my computer had crashed, taking everything I'd written for the book in the last hour with it. Add to that the fact that I felt a cold coming on, and I was feeling rather irritable when the boys burst through the door after school. For the last couple of days they had cast aside any preamble to having sex; they just started peeling off their clothes and jumped on me in a naked tangle of boy-limbs. Today was no exception.

I gave them a sour look when they began unbuttoning their shirts. "Good grief," I said waspishly, "don't you two ever get tired of having sex?" (There. Let the self-proclaimed sex-abuse 'experts' ponder that for a while.)

Cory's eyes widened with surprise, and Chris's eyebrows furrowed in hurt confusion. Dammit. Why was I taking it out on them? "I'm sorry guys," I sighed in apology. "I didn't mean to snap at you."

"Bad day, huh?" Cory asked with a concerned look. Chris came over and sat on my lap, wrapping his thin arms around my neck in a warm, tight hug. "It's okay, Tom," he said, snuggling his head on my shoulder. "I love you even when you're cranky." I chuckled as I hugged him back. Holding the young boy in a cuddly, comfy embrace did wonders for my mood. I could have stayed like that for hours. Cory seemed to have other ideas, however.

"Take off your shirt," he ordered me. "Cory, I really don't feel like 3;"

"Just do it, okay?" he pleaded. With a sigh I disentangled myself from Chris, and pulled off my sweatshirt. I looked at Cory resignedly, figuring he wanted to fool around or something. I really wasn't in the mood though, which he should have been able to sense.

"Now lay down on the couch, on your stomach," he continued. I hesitated, feeling rather stubborn about it, and he gave me a determined look. He wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer, it seemed. I did as he said, stretching out on the couch with my arms wrapped around a pillow. I felt Cory straddle my back and sit on my butt, and then with some surprise I felt his hands start kneading my shoulders and neck. Stupid me. He wanted to give me a massage, not have sex. Gosh they were wonderful boys, I thought to myself for the thousandth time, in spite of their occasional attacks on my sanity.

"You're really tense," Cory observed, expertly rubbing and massaging my back with his soft, warm hands. As usual, Cory knew exactly how to make me feel good, concentrating his efforts on my neck and shoulders until the tightness left and I was so relaxed I occasionally sighed with a drowsy feeling of pleasure.

"He's falling asleep," I heard Chris say from somewhere around the vicinity of the computer. Soon thereafter, I did just that.

In the couple of weeks since their birthday, I had been watching the twins closely for any other signs of changes. In spite of Cory's declaration that they "weren't babies anymore," they still sometimes slept together in the same bed, and other times slept apart. Apparently old habits were hard to break. In a way I was glad, actually. I didn't want to think that I was somehow separating them.

Cory and Chris were starting to go their own ways, though. They had never been identical, personality-wise, and since I had entered their lives they no longer had to lean solely on each-other for comfort and support. Now they could share their hopes and fears with me. And share me they did. This was most apparent when one of them wanted to 'do it' (their expression for getting fucked). Both boys enjoyed it as much as I did, but strangely enough when one wanted to do it the other one would leave us alone to our own devices. Then a few days later when the other twin wanted the same action, his brother would go away until we finished. I think they were testing the waters, so-to-speak; each boy was learning to love someone on his own terms, without having his twin present to get in the way and complicate things. If I had any doubts about their love for each-other, they were put to rest on Saturday nights. Sometimes our passion carried us away and I ended up fucking both of them, but usually we would only make love with our hands and mouths. More importantly, they made love to each-other. Cory and Chris would always be extremely close, but they knew their lives would eventually lead down separate paths, and I was their first step in that direction.

Chapter 10

"No Tom! You promised!" said the pale one with haunted looking eyes and blood-red lips, dressed in a black tuxedo and white, ruffled shirt, his hair slicked straight back with gel and wearing fangs. A black cape fastened at his throat completed the ensemble.

"You look great!" added the youngster with the hatchet in his head, fake blood oozing wetly from the realistic-looking wound and splattered generously over his face and clothes. Chris looked kind of cute (he could have given me another love-bite anytime), but Cory was downright gruesome. Susan had done a good job with the costumes we had rented from the local Halloween shop a few days before. She was wearing a Catwoman outfit.

"Yeah Tom," Susan said behind her hand, where she was trying to hold in a chuckle, "you can't back out now. I need you to go with them so I can get to the hospital and get things started over there." The hospital where she worked was having a party for employees and some of the patients, and I was to bring the boys there later. "Let me get a camera so I can take a picture of the three of you," she added. Maybe she wanted to blackmail me sometime in the future with it, I thought to myself regretfully. Chris snickered at that; I could never think anything to myself when he was around.

After we had taken pictures of all the possible permutations of the four of us, the twins and I set out on a mission to deplenish the countryside of all available sweets. I drew the line at actually carrying a bag and saying "Trick-Or-Treat", but nevertheless a few neighbors gave an extra piece of candy to one of the boys for "the wizard back there."

Okay, I admit it. I was having fun. It was a beautiful Autumn evening, the sky a crystal-clear, deep, dark blue as the sun neared the horizon, and Cory and Chris skipped along gaily from door-to-door collecting treats, occasionally pulling me onward by the hand. There were dozens of little goblins and other assorted ghouls out-and-about; super-heroes, cartoon-characters and pirates were our companions. It was the ultimate kids' holiday, a costumed combination of Christmas and birthdays.

After we'd traversed I-don't-know-how-many-blocks, Cory and Chris were having trouble carrying their treasure. The sun had gone down an hour ago, and it was time to join their mom. The party at the hospital was okay, but there weren't a whole lot of kids around. The twins quickly got bored and somewhat cranky, as young boys tend to do rather easily. Susan had to work the night-shift, and since we'd already arranged for the two brothers to spend the night with me anyway I suggested the three of us go looking for a haunted-house. Susan gave her okay, but insisted that we didn't stay out too late since it was a school-night. We readily agreed to her terms, but I think she knew she was wasting her time.

I checked a newspaper and found a fairly large haunted-house within an hour's drive, and the boys and I took off on another adventure. We had to wait in line for almost two hours when we got there, but finally, after paying the admission price, we were inside. I'd psyched the twins up while we had been waiting, telling them scary stories about roaming spirits, gory druidic rituals and the terrors that were set loose on Allhallows Eve, and now a small, timid vampire was hunkered down alongside me, clutching my wizard's robe and my hand in a death-grip.

"There's nothing to be afraid of," Cory told his brother with all the bravado a ten-year-old can muster. "Nothing's real in here." I didn't ask why he was holding my other hand. Rather tightly, in fact. I also didn't tell him that there were actors undoubtedly hiding inside.

It was pitch-dark in here; as we stumbled blindly through a maze of narrow, twisting corridors, eerie music with an occasional howl or scream thrown in added the proper ambience. We could feel what were supposed to be rat's tails or snakes brushing our feet, and cobweb-like strings hung from the ceiling, tickling our faces. There's nothing like a total, complete absence of light to send a primal chill through one's soul; especially a young soul, say about ten-years-old. I let loose p, demented laugh. It felt so good I did it again.

"Cut it out Tom," I heard Chris's voice shaking nervously from somewhere near my elbow. There must be some macho, deep-seated need for a guy to scare those who are smaller than he is – be it a wife or girl-friend, or a little kid – because I did it again. One of the boys elbowed me roughly in the gut, and I finally quit. Spoilsports.

We came upon a dimly lit laboratory scene of various medical horrors, and a rather ghastly looking fellow – who looked like he'd been through a botched open-heart surgery – noticed all the fake blood on Cory. "Perhaps the young boy would like to join us for some experiments," the cadaverous gentleman asked in a hollow voice. He grabbed Cory's free hand and pulled him insistently towards an examining-table in the center of the room. Cory squealed and held on to me for dear-life, until he was released. So much for bravado. For a tempting second I had almost let him go, just to see the look of shocked betrayal on his face, but I couldn't do it. Even I'm not that cruel.

We moved into another darkened passage, and now both boys were pushing me along in front of them. I guess they were willing to sacrifice me to save themselves. Their plan didn't work though. As we came into another gloomy scenario of blood and guts Frankenstein's Monster grabbed them from behind with a menacing bellow. The two ten-year-olds almost knocked me over in their rush to place me between the monstrosity and themselves, and their eyes were wild with borderline terror as they screamed in surprise mixed with boyish-delight. Boys enjoy a good scare now-and-then, as long as they know they can't really be hurt. And I certainly didn't mind them hanging on to me with all their might, expecting me to protect them. If you've never taken a boy to a haunted- house, I highly recommend it.

We made it to the end without any further mishap. It had certainly been a good time. So good in fact that Cory wanted to go through it again, but it was getting late. It had been a long, delightfully scary evening for my young ghoul-friends (sorry, couldn't resist), and both boys fell asleep on the way home.

I managed to steer them inside my house, where I sat on the couch and began undressing Chris, taking off his cape and jacket. Cory had pulled the hatchet off his head earlier, so all he had left was blood. It felt good to get out of my robe as well. I was tired, but the two boys seemed to have gotten their second-wind when they remembered all that candy they had collected. I let them have a few pieces (and I had some too, I'll admit), and then they looked at each-other silently, obviously talking between themselves. I hated it when they did that; invariably it meant the two scamps were up to something, and it usually involved me. Chris nodded at his twin and then told me he had to go home for something. I looked at him suspiciously, but let him go. While he was gone Cory asked if I had a candle. What in the world 3;?

Cory was placing the candle in a holder on my coffee-table when Chris returned. Taking a match, Cory carefully lit the candle. Chris went through my house turning off all the lights, until all we had left was the tiny, flickering flame. Silently, the two boys sat on their legs on one side of the low table, and beckoned me to sit opposite them. Then they pulled off their shirts, and looked at me pointedly until I did the same. What were they up to, I wondered. Chris took three short pieces of string from his pocket, and laid these together on the table. I could see they were friendship bracelets, the kind that kids made and traded with their friends. Each narrow cord was tightly braided with three colors; two shades of blue (light and dark) and one of bright red. Understanding dawned on me.

"Hey, when did you make 3;" Cory and Chris shushed me with shocked looks, as if I were interrupting a church-service. For that's what they were about to perform: a ritual of naively innocent boyhood, made all the more sacred as we neared the magical witching-hour on Allhallows Eve.

Mesmerized, I watched Cory take the ends of the three bracelets and hold them several inches over the candle. Then he chanted in his soft voice:

"Through the fire, we pass these chains, three strings are one, sealed by flame." Cory quickly passed them three times through the fire, fast enough so they wouldn't scorch. Then he took one of the cords and tied it loosely in a double knot on Chris's left wrist, and silently offered him the remaining two pieces. Following his brother's lead, Chris held the colored strings above the fire, and thought for a moment before intoning:

"By flame of candle, this spell is cast, two brothers are now three, our love will last." I was totally captivated. I watched with fascination as Chris passed them twice through the candle, and then tied one of the strings around my wrist. The two boys were so serious and solemn, and their ghoulish makeup made them look rather eerie in the yellow, dancing flame of the candle. They were other-worldly, young warlocks practicing bare-chested, high-sorcery on Halloween night, and I was there charmed disciple. The analogy of boy-love as a religion struck me once again. Then I realized Chris was holding the remaining cord out to me. I was expected to contribute to the ritual as well.

Cory and Chris watched me critically as I took the small cord and held it over the candle as they had done, and gathered my thoughts. We had all had lots of practice with spells, actually. The boys were quite adept at coming up with rhymes for the book. Everyone knows the most powerful incantations have to rhyme. Just watch "Bewitched".

"Through the fire, I pass this bracelet, tied in friendship, and nothing shall break it." Chris allowed a small smile of approval to cross his face as he watched me pass it once through the flame and tie it around his brother's wrist. Then, almost reverently, my very special friends linked the little-fingers of their right hands together in their double-promise, and silently looked at me until I wrapped my pinkie around their's. I was deeply moved by this special gift. I felt myself shiver as goose-flesh broke out on my skin, almost as if there truly was magic in the air. The boys felt it as well; I could see how their small, tender nipples had become even tinier, surrounded by goose-bumps in the wavering candlelight.

The ceremony now over, Cory and Chris beamed happily at me. The reader might like to think that what followed was a wild bacchanalia of boy-sex, culminating in the ultimate expression of love, but it was a school-night. I led the two sleepy sorcerers to the bathroom and washed off as much of their makeup as possible, and then I lovingly undressed them the rest of the way. Naked, the three of us slept in a tangle of blissful contentment, covering each-other with a blanket of love and friendship.

I finished our book a few weeks later. Just before I sent it to my agent though, I added several very important lines at the very beginning, and promptly forced myself to forget about it. After he read it he said it was my best book yet, and suggested we re-negotiate my contract with the publisher. In fact he thought the book could cross genres into the sci-fi/fantasy market, which was fine with me as long as it was still marketed primarily as a kid's book. My loyalties would always be with boys, after all. When my publisher read it, and after a few more weeks of wrangling, I signed a contract for an outrageous sum of money agreeing to write at least two more books about the supposedly fictitious twins. I didn't think that would be a problem, since it was my favorite subject. I felt I had to share the wealth with the boys though, so for a Christmas present (one of many, needless to say) I had my agent draw up a contract splitting the royalties three ways. A separate the arbitrarily-magic age of eighteen Cory and Chris would have more than enough money for college or whatever else they wanted to do. Susan nearly cried when I told her what I had done, she was so grateful. The twins, of course, wanted the money now. I laughed fondly at their plans for buying airplanes and race-cars, or candy factories and arcades.

The book was published in February, and when my copies arrived the boys were still at school. We had already started on the next story in the series, but we had all been waiting anxiously for this one. When Chris contacted me he immediately picked up that it was here at last.

("You've got the book?") I heard his excited voice say in my head. He caught me off-guard, and I was afraid he'd pick up more than I wanted him too. I started singing a Beatles' song, hoping to block him out. ("Hey, what are you trying to hide?") he accused. His curiosity aroused, I knew he wouldn't give up easily. I sang louder. ("Tom! Hey, cut it out!")

"Chris, pleeease don't," I begged him. "It means a lot to me and I don't want you to ruin it. You'll find out when you get home." I started singing again, but I knew he could get what he wanted if he really concentrated.

("Oh alright,") I heard him pout. ("See you later, I guess.") I had no way of knowing if he'd really left my head. I dove into our sequel, hoping to put my mind on other things, in case the inquisitive, telepathic young boy came back for another assault. I thought about the tour my publisher wanted me to take to promote the book. If I went over spring-break, perhaps Susan would let the twins come along.

The next attack was when Cory and Chris practically tore down my front-door after school. Chris had told his twin and both boys were bubbling over with impatience as they pulled off their winter coats and rushed me. "Let's see it!" Cory yelled. "Yeah, where is it?" Chris demanded, still wondering what I had up my sleeve.

I sat on the couch and pulled out a small, gift-wrapped object. It was the book of course. I wasn't fooling anybody; I just thought wrapping it would be a nice touch. The boys sat down on my right and grabbed it unceremoniously from my hands. Cory ripped off the paper and stared at the cover.

"'Double Trouble'," he said with a smile, reading the title out-loud. The drawing on the front was the three of us, dressed in clothes that fit the story. What possessed me to use the picture Susan had taken of me on Halloween I'll never know.

"Hey, it's us!" Chris exclaimed. "Cool!" "It's my author's copy," I told the two boys, "the very first one off the press. I want you guys to have it."

Cory and Chris looked at me gratefully, but they both sensed that there was something else. Chris finally grabbed the thought from my head. He sucked in his breath with surprise, and quickly told his brother to open the book and look inside. Past all the copyright info, on an otherwise blank page, I saw their eyes widen as they stared at six simple, short lines. Their jaws dropped open with identical looks of stunned disbelief while they re-read it several times. Finally Cory found his voice, but it shook a little. "D-Does it say this in all of them?" he asked in wondering amazement.

I could only nod as I smiled at them. Their reactions were everything I'd hoped for. I was almost overwhelmed as I felt my love for the two beautiful, special young boys pouring out of my soul, and they both felt it as strongly as I did. Our eyes threatened to start leaking. Suddenly the twins threw their arms around me, hugging me in a tight, fierce embrace as I hugged them back. Nothing more needed to be said; our love spoke volumes. It's the most excellent language there is.

For Cory and Chris;
twin beams of sunlight
and happiness shining
brightly in my grateful
heart. I love you both,
forever.

The End

Author's note: