Jack Edwards



My brother, Toby, and I are identical twins; same brown hair and eyes, average build and features. I always claim, though, that I’m the cute one with the bigger cock. Actually, our circumcised cocks are the most identical thing about us; a little longer than average from what we’ve seen.

About the time Toby and I were five or six our mom and grandma started giving us enemas, once every week or two on Saturday nights. They’d gotten into some kind of health kick where enemas were used to “cleanse” people’s insides and promote healthy bodies. Mom and Grams would fill one of us up, then work on the other while the first was expelling.

We began to like the enemas and anal sensations. Much to the dismay of my mother and grandmother, Toby and I began to get erections. Mom and Grams did their best to ignore them, except to push our hands away when we tried to play with ourselves.

Mom and Grams didn’t like it either, when we sat, rubbing our bottoms on the carpet, or on the arm of the couch. In our own room, though, when Mom and Grams weren’t around, things were different. Toby and I were free to explore the pleasurable feeling our bottoms and erections could give us.

It may have been months after they started giving us enemas. I’m not sure, but I think we were seven or eight. On a Saturday night, as we lay in bed after our bath, I rolled to my stomach and stuck my hand down the back of my pajamas and underwear to rub my fingertip over my butt hole. It was still loose, and not all the Vaseline had washed off.

Toby saw what I was doing and sat up beside me. “Push down your jamies,” he told me.

I lifted my hips and pushed my pajama bottoms and underwear down onto my legs, leaving my butt bare. Toby leaned over me and pulled apart my butt cheeks, taking a closer look. I felt his finger press my sphincter and lightly rub as he examined me more closely.

“Hold on,” he said, getting up from the bed. He rummaged around on a low table in our room which we used for games and toys, and in the moment, he climbed up on the bed with a pencil.

“What are you doing?” I asked, concerned.

“I’m gonna use this end,” he said, showing me the eraser end. Then he bent over my bottom and pulled open my crack with one hand, aiming the eraser end of the pencil into my butthole with the other hand.

“Ouch!” I said, pulling away. “The metal hurts.”

Toby got off the bed and rummaged around some more. He came back with a red crayon and peeled off the paper. “This’ll be smooth,” he promised.

Again, he pulled open my crack, and this time, the crayon went up my butt fairly easily.

“How does it feel?” he asked.


Toby moved it around, and in and out. The crayon started to drag against the skin at my opening.

“Don’t break it off!” I warned him.

He took it out and got off the bed. A moment later, he returned with a brand new pencil that had never been sharpened, obviously intending to use the unsharpened end.

“My bottom’s getting dry,” I told him. “It needs more stuff.”

Toby went to the door, peeked out, then padded down the hall to the bathroom. A moment later, he quietly closed the door behind him, returning with the Vaseline. He dipped the end of the pencil in it, and then pushed the pencil up my bottom. He slid it in and out, and moved it around.

“How does it feel?” he asked.

“Good,” I told him.

“Do it to me,” he said. Leaving the pencil up my butt, he pushed down his pajama bottoms and flopped onto his tummy beside me.

I didn’t take the pencil out right away. It felt good where it was. Instead, staying on my stomach, I got the crayon. But before putting it in, I took some Vaseline onto a finger and smeared it on Toby’s butthole. When I pushed, my finger went in, so I pushed it all the way in and felt around inside him.

“That feels real good,” he murmured, head down.

“It’s my finger,” I told him.

He lifted his head and looked back over his shoulder. “What does it feel like?” he asked.

“Poopy,” I told him.

“Does not.”

He was right, of course; we’d been completely cleaned out. I shrugged, probing. I didn’t really have anything to compare it to. “Feel mine,” I told him. “You’ll see what it’s like.”

I scooted up beside him on my stomach, and Toby took the pencil out of my butt. A second later, I felt his finger probe inside.

“I like that,” I told him. “I like your finger better.”

We explored our bodies, and not just our buttholes, but our dicks and balls and perineums. We discovered that if I lay on my back and Toby lay on top of me, facing the other way, then if I pulled up my legs and Toby splayed his knees out to the sides, we could play with each other’s bottom at the same. That had the added advantage of allowing us to rub our stiffies on the warm, smooth skin of one another’s chest or belly.

Our pediatrician’s nurse had used baby oil on us to take rectal temperatures. We found that worked as a butt lubricant as well, and was sometimes easiest to sneak out of the bathroom.

But it was in the bath that “nasty” play was easiest. After each bath, once my mom and grandma left us alone, we probed each other’s butts with fingers and even the enema syringe. I know for sure we were at least eight when, kneeling behind Toby’s bottom, I decided to put my stiffy up his butt.

He was on all-fours, I moved up on my knees, aimed it, and eased it in. By then, we were taking pencils and fingers just fine. My stiffy, though was thicker than either, and longer than a finger.

Toby stiffened a moment. “Feels bigger,” he murmured.

I held his little hips, pulling his bottom snug to my lap, and I moved my own hips around, moving my erection around inside Toby’s bottom. He started moving his hips, too, grinding back against me.

“That feels good,” he said.

“Yeah,” I agreed.

I pulled my dick part way out and pushed back in, like we did with the pencils. I did it again. “That feels real good,” I murmured.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

I slid my stiffy up his butt a couple more times, and then pulled out. “You try it,” I told him, turning around and getting on all-fours.”

Toby got his stiffy all wet, and scooted up behind me on his knees. Like me, he just eased on it, and I instantly understood what he meant about ‘feels bigger’.

We switched back again, and, when I was inside him, the feelings started getting really good. I bent over him, hugging his waist, wiggling and thrusting my stiffy inside his butt. My movements were jerky, but instinctive.

Toby got pretty worked up by it, wiggling his butt back on me.

We liked it!

We butt fucked each other several times during our baths, until one night when my mom walked in on us. Toby’s stiffy was up my butt, and we were both moving when Mom’s howl of protest pierced the tiled bathroom. We froze in mid-bump.

She jerked us out of the tub and paddled both our behinds, hard; really hard.

So we stopped doing that, and we quit playing in our bedroom because, for a while, Mom watched us like a hawk.

Eventually, she was distracted by other things, and we discovered we could play much more safely in the basement. For our play, though, we needed to conceal some lube or grease down there, and that presented a problem.

If we took the Vaseline container downstairs, Mom would miss it and know that something was up. Same with baby oil. It was Toby who thought about Crisco, but we couldn’t take mom’s can of Crisco downstairs either. However, we could take some Crisco.

We found an old jar in the trash and washed it up. Then we filled the jar half-way with shortening and hid it, along with an old towel for cleaning up with, down in the basement under an old bed which we had decided to use for our play.

The first time we had an opportunity – I know that we were still eight or nine years old – Toby and I had gone to the neighborhood store. We were walking home eating popsicles, and Toby pointed his popsicle at me to look at. He had bitten the end off.

“What does that look like?” he asked. He didn’t wait for me to answer, though. “It looks like your butthole, ha-ha! No wait… this one’s purple. Look at your red one; it looks more like it. Your butthole’s more that color.”

I looked at the bitten-off end of my popsicle. The radiating lines of the red ice crystals did look a bit like Toby’s butthole.

“This is making my pee-pee hard,” Toby said. “Let’s get home and down in the basement.”

As soon as we were home, we shot down to the basement and back to where the old bed sat under a high casement window. We stripped and Toby climbed onto the bed on his stomach.

I lubricated my finger with Crisco and probed into his bottom.

“Just put your dick in me,” he said. “I want to feel it inside me.”

I quickly spread Crisco on my dick and mounted my brother, settling my weight onto him completely. Toby spread his legs as wide as he could and mine fell between them, making the angle better. I started working my dick in and out.

It felt different from when we were in the bath. Laying down on Toby was much more pleasant than kneeling behind him. His soft hair was against my cheek, and its smell filled my nostrils. His warm body fit under mine perfectly, skin on skin.

“That feels really good; don’t stop,” Toby said.

“Okay, but five more strokes and then you’ve gotta put yours in me.”

We switched, and it wasn’t just being on top that made doing it lying down feel much better. It felt better being on the bottom, too. The weight of Toby’s warm body on my back, and the angle of his stiffy grinding down on my little prostate, both felt terrific. I circled my hips under Toby, rubbing my stiffy on the old bedcovers beneath me.

It wasn’t simply that it felt so much better lying on top of each other than doing it in the bath; it was also that we could take our time. Toby and I didn’t have to worry about Mom barging into the bathroom or our bedroom and discovering us.

We switched back, and I got on Toby again. This time, I pumped harder and faster and Toby rubbed his butt back up against me. I could feel his butthole moving around on my stiffy.

We got going harder, and the intensity of the feelings in my dick and pelvis rose. My breath caught when the intensity exploded, and I had a mild, dry orgasm.

Toby was still all excited, and we kept going. A moment later, he was grunting under me with his own, first dry orgasm.

We cleaned off, and went outside to the yard to play.

After that, we were always after each other after school, or anytime we could get alone by ourselves.

Neither of us had an experience with another boy until we were twelve. Our church had a children’s choir for preteens. Toby and I had a mutual friend named Richard who was in the choir with us. He was a chunky kid back then, and not timid. One afternoon, playing at Richard’s house when it was just him and me, I had to use the toilet. I was sitting on it when Richard came in and stood in front of me.

“Is it okay if I watch?” he asked.

I nodded, my eyes dropping to the front of his pants. He looked like he might be tenting.

“Does your dick get hard?” I asked

“Yes. A lot!”

“Can I see it?”

Richard dropped his pants and underwear, right there in front of me. He was as smooth and hairless as me, and, like me, his dick was already adolescent size and rising to a full boner. I lifted it on my fingers and slid the soft skin up and down over his hard shaft.

“You can suck it if you want to,” Richard said.

“Turn around,” I told him. “I want to see your butt.”

He turned around. His butt was definitely larger than Toby’s and mine.

“Bend over,” I told him, “and spread your butt cheeks.”

He did, and I probed at his pucker with my finger. It was tight.

“I want to stick my dick in you,” I told him.

“Okay,” he said, and he moved to bend over the sink while I wiped and flushed. Then I waddled over to him with my pants down at my ankles and my boner wagging.

He reached into the medicine cabinet and handed back a plastic container to me. I wasn’t really paying attention. I thought it was Vaseline, and I worked some into his hole. Then I spread some on my dick, and I noticed it was a little warm. I looked at the container. It was labeled ‘Vicks Vapor Rub’. I wasn’t really sure what it was used for, but it looked like Vaseline.

I set the container down. Richard stuck his butt back and held his butt cheeks apart, and I slid my meat into him, right up to my balls. I grabbed his waist, but had barely started thrusting when his mom pulled into the driveway.

“Oh, no!” he murmured, pulling away from me. He pulled up his pants and ran for the living room while fastening them.

I hurriedly took toilet paper to clean off my dick as best I could. I flushed the toilet paper down, pulled up my shorts, and put away the Vicks. And then I made it to the living room, just as his mom came into the kitchen with groceries.

“Have you two been good boys?” she asked.

I thought, hell yes!

I took a seat close to Richard in the living room. His face was red and he was sweating. I wondered if his butt was feeling as hot from the Vicks as my dick was feeling. I folded my hands in my lap, pressing my aching dick and resisting the growing urge to rub and squirm. I began to sweat as well.

Carefully, Richard scooted his butt forward and back on the couch, over and over. His mom could see us from the kitchen.

“You boys want a soda? You look like you’ve been playing hard.”

A few weeks later, Richard invited Toby and me over to campout in his tent in the backyard.

“We’ll have fun,” I told Toby as we got our stuff together. “Richard and I have been doing each other.”

Toby frowned. “You didn’t tell me!”

I shrugged. “I was going to sometime.” I then told Toby about the Vicks Vapor Rub, and he laughed.

He bumped shoulders with me. “I’ve been doing Richard, too, and I was going to tell you sometime.”

In the tent that night, as soon as his parents said good night after checking on us, we stripped. Richard lay between us; all three of us rolled onto our backs, stroking boners.

“I get dubs on Richard’s butt first,” I said.

They agreed and Richard got up onto all-fours. I got onto my knees behind him and greased up with Vaseline. Toby knelt at Richard’s other end and aimed his boner at Richard’s mouth. Richard didn’t hesitate. He swallowed it.

I spread Richard’s ass cheeks and slid my meat into him all the way. Then taking him by the waist, I began thrusting.

I’d never seen Toby having sex with someone else. We watched each other. Toby reached out a hand, and I took it. We squeezed hands, and then played with our fingers while I fucked Richard and he sucked Toby.

After Toby and I came (still dry orgasms at that time), Richard got behind Toby and started fucking him. Toby enjoyed it, and bucked back with his butt. I’d never seen him doing that with someone other than me, either. He looked hot.

And later, when Richard was on his stomach and Toby climbed on top of him to fuck him, I got so hot watching Toby go at it, that I straddled the backs of his legs and did Toby at the same time.

“That was awesome at Richard’s,” I told Toby two afternoons later when we were about to do each other in the basement. “I like watching you have sex with someone.”

He grinned. “I like watching you, too. I was thinking… we need to find a mirror to do it in front of.”

I grinned and rubbed the front of Toby’s crotch. “Yeah.”

Toby’s eyes lit up, and he reached for my crotch. “I got an idea.”


“Have you ever seen Brandon’s parent’s bedroom?”

Brandon was another friend of ours. A closet ran the full length of one side of their bedroom. It had mirrored, sliding doors and reflected the full length of the bed. And, his parents worked all day.

“You think Brandon would do stuff with us?” I asked.

Toby grinned. “I bet we can find out.”

It turned out that Brandon had a couple of magazines a cousin had given him. Once he got them out to show us, it was easy. We loved the mirrors.


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