Date: Sat, 7 Oct 2000 06:58:41 -0700 (PDT) From: Brew Maxwell Subject: Twin Spin, Part 2, Chapter 5 Disclaimer: The following is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. The story contains graphic descriptions of sex between men, and anyone who is forbidden by law to read such material must exit the story now. The characters have unprotected sex, as characters safely can in fiction. Reality, obviously, is another matter entirely. This story is being posted to the Nifty Archive for the enjoyment of its readers. It may not be posted or distributed by any other medium without the written permission of the author. Other works by the author in the Nifty Archive include "Unusual Christmas" and the series Nick's Adventures, both in bisexual/high school; "First Mate" and "Twin Spin" in gay/incest; The Dancer and Call-Boy Journal in gay/encounters; "My First Year with Kevin" in gay/high school; and "From Slave to Houseboy" in gay/authoritarian. This story is a continuation of "Twin Spin," and you might find that some of the references make more sense if you've read the first part. E-mail comments are always welcome. Twin Spin, Part 2 Chapter 5 The Atlanta airport was swarming with business travelers, as I'd expected it to be on a Friday afternoon, but, fortunately, I left from a gate just three down from the one I arrived at. I had a close connection, but I made it fine. The trip from Asheville had been uneventful, and, except for sardines-like packing of the plane, the one from Atlanta to New Orleans was good, too. I sat in an aisle seat next to an attractive woman in her mid-forties. She was dressed very professionally, but she wasn't wearing a bit of make-up. "Is New Orleans your destination," she asked in accentless English. "Yes. What about you?" "Yes, me, too. Our congregation is having a special workshop this weekend, and I'm very excited about seeing all of my sisters again." What the hell was she talking about, I wondered. "How many sisters do you have," I asked. "Oh, world wide, close to four thousand, but there will be about ninety of us at this workshop." I almost blurted out something really uncool under the circumstances, something like "Jesus Christ! You have four thousand fucking sisters?" But I didn't. I assumed she must be a nun, so I watched my language. "I'm going to visit a friend," I said. "Oh, how nice. Has it been a long time since you've seen one another?" "Actually, just a couple of weeks. We saw each other last in New Jersey, though." "Am I out of bounds if I ask if your friend is a young woman," she asked. "Of course you're not out of bounds," I said, "but he's a man." "What do you do for a living," she asked me. "Well, you name it, I do it. I'm the tutor-companion to two eighteen-year-old boys. Identical twins. Their mother has been dead since they were babies, and their father has to be away a great deal on business. I'm basically their older brother and their playmate." "It's wise of that gentleman to have someone responsible for them. I would think that at eighteen, though..." "Well, I thought the same thing when I took the job, but I've more than earned my salary. One of them in particular has been going through some difficult psychological times, lately, and I've been his counselor and friend." "Do you have a picture of them," she asked. "I wish I did, but I'm afraid not." Then I remembered a snapshot of the three of us that Mike had taken at the beach. I was using it as a bookmark. "Oh, yes, I do. I just remembered." I dug it out of my carry-on bag that was under the seat. "These are really handsome young men. They could be any age, from eighteen to twenty-five, I think." "Well, they're eighteen. They grew up in New Orleans, and they moved this summer to Asheville, North Carolina. They haven't had a chance to make many friends in that area, yet, but they will. They're both very charming and very smart." "I'm a professor of clinical psychology at Duke University. I'm Sister Rose Freeman," she said, extending her hand. "Nice to meet you. I'm John Prescott. This one," I said, pointing to Kevin, "is seeing a clinical psychologist for the first time this very afternoon." I glanced at my watch, which was on Asheville time. "In fact, he probably just finished his session." "I hope it's nothing serious. I'm fascinated by identical twins. They have such a difficult time finding and accepting their individual identities. I've done some studies of twins, particularly of sets where one is gay and one isn't. Fascinating." "Are you shitting me," I asked. Then, when I realized what I'd said, "Oh, Sister, I'm sorry about my language. That was so rude of me." "No, it wasn't, and remember, I teach and counsel college students. But your reaction told me a lot about your two boys. Which one just figured out he's gay?" "Actually, Kevin just figured out he's *not* gay. And he's having a very hard time with that. He's also quite an athlete and loves to work out, and he found out a couple of days ago that Brian, his twin, hates playing sports and doing exercise. For their whole lives, Brian has done it, and been very good at it, to be like Kevin. Kevin has been 'gay' to be like Brian. They are a mess, especially Kevin." "Well, I'm glad to hear Kevin is making some self-discoveries, but I think you're wise to put him in therapy." We talked on for most of the trip about the boys. I didn't give too many sordid details, but I'm sure she read between the lines. "You love those boys, don't you," she asked as we were taxiing into the New Orleans airport. "Yes, Sister, I do. Yes, I do." "Lucky them." We exchanged business cards, got our luggage from the overhead compartments, and said good-bye. I made up my mind right then and there that Kevin and Brian would not dominate my weekend with Mike. That trip was time off from them. Mike was waiting for me when I got off the plane. I hadn't checked any bags, so we were ready to go. "John, I've really missed you," he said. "I've missed you, too. I can't believe I'm here." "What do you want to do tonight," he asked. "What do you want to do?" "Whatever you want to do," he said. We both chuckled. "You want an honest answer," I asked. "Yeah. Of course." "I want to go home, I want to get a bite to eat, and I want to hold you in my arms. That's all. I just want to get naked, hug you, kiss you, rub against you, hold you, suck you, fuck you, have you fuck me. You know, your basic queer shit." Mike laughed hard and punched me lightly on the arm. "You know, that's exactly what I was hoping you would say. I'm off Monday. Can you stay until then?" "My flight is at ten o'clock Monday night," I said. "Great," he said. When we got home, which was actually the Finch house that Mike was living in to look after, he asked, "What are you hungry for?" "You," I said. "Come here. Give me a proper 'hello' kiss." I didn't waste any time. I put my hands on his shoulders, and he put his arms around my waist. We kissed long, hard, and passionately. Our tongues were everywhere in each other's mouths. I felt his erection growing against my thigh, and I'm sure he felt mine, too. We went up to his bedroom. There wasn't much talking. He started undressing me right away. I had on a sport shirt and jeans. He still had on his tie, so it took me a little longer to get him naked. Once we were in that state, though, with our cocks standing at attention, I was ready to communicate through my body everything I had been thinking about him. He was ready, too. Our love-making was tender, affectionate, and long. I touched him in all the places I love to be touched, and he reciprocated. His nipples were the type that seemed in a constant state of erection, and I toyed with them with my fingers and my mouth. He liked that and moaned nicely with each encounter. I worked my tongue down his body, finally arriving at his masterpiece. I sucked his cock into my mouth the way a vacuum cleaner gets a piece of string, and I rode up and down on him. My oral skills had improved considerably over the summer, and I was able to take all of him into my mouth and throat. I moved down to his balls and sucked each of them in turn. Then I went on to his ass. Mike had no hair around his anus, and I licked it and tongue-fucked it to pleasure him. He wasn't nervous or tense, and I was able to get two fingers into him on the first try. I found his prostate immediately. "Oh, God, John. That's what heaven will feel like," he said. "But you want the real thing, don't you," I asked. "Oh, yes. I want you, man. Now." I took him at his word and entered him. He was on his back, and I was able to easily get him at the right angle to give his sweet place it's just deserts. We stayed coupled like that for a long time. I would occasionally move in and out to keep it interesting for both of us. Ultimately, we both climaxed in long, hard, stupendous orgasms. When we were done, I got up and got my cigarettes. We both lit up. "You know, I could easily fall in love with you," Mike said. He was the first to speak. "You mean you haven't already," I asked. "Yeah, pretty much, but one more fuck like that one, and I'll follow you to the ends of the earth," he said. "You're shitting me. Aren't you?" "I'm shitting you about the one more fuck. I'd follow you to the ends of the earth now. John, this is going to sound terribly impulsive, but I'm completely in love with you. God, I wish I had taken that job in Asheville." "Yeah, but all the benefits and research opportunities you have here. Would you have that in Asheville?" "That was bullshit to lure me in, I'm afraid. I've become terribly disillusioned with this group here. The benefits are fine, but no better than that practice in Asheville. Their idea of research, though, is doing drug trials for pharmaceutical companies. That's research, of course, but it's not the kind of thing I'm interested in. I've spoken to my mentor from my residency, and he's encouraged me to leave." "Don't you have a contract," I asked. "Well, yeah, but it basically outlines what they have to do for me. It also has a sixty-day option clause. They can get rid of me in sixty days, and I can quit in sixty days, no questions asked, no obligations owed." "Would the practice in Asheville still want you? And would you want them?" "Right after I spoke with you, I called the senior partner. He said they still hadn't found anyone and that I was welcome to hang out my shingle Monday morning." "This is kind of blowing my mind, you know?" "I'm sure it is, but, dude, you just blew my mind away. If it was just the sex, I'd be a fool for thinking the way I am. But it's you, John. It's you. I love you. I think about you all the time. I look at a man's penis, and I think of yours. I get up in the morning, and you're the first thought that pops into my head. I jerk off every day thinking about you. I love you." We were quiet for a long time after that, each man thinking about the ramifications of what he had just said. In time, we got up and went out to eat. We spent the rest of the weekend talking about his moving to Asheville, our relationship, our love, and the possibilities for the future. And, of course, the sex all weekend long was incredible. When I got home Monday night, it was late. In fact, it was around two o'clock in the morning. Kevin was still up, reading. "Hey, J. How was your trip? We missed you." I gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. "I missed you guys, too. How are the horses?" "They un-fucking-believable, man. Especially Misty. Brian let me ride Midnight yesterday, and she's fun. But there wasn't any chemistry, you know?" "I didn't know there was chemistry between a horse and rider," I said. "Oh, yeah. There is. Rudy was the first to bring it to our attention, but he wasn't wrong, man. There's definitely chemistry." "Did Misty stick a test tube up your ass or something," I joked. "You asshole. Can I make you a drink? A scotch?" "Oh, that would be good, Kevin. Thanks." In a minute, he came back with drinks for both of us. "So what about you, man," I asked. "How was the appointment with the shrink?" "It was the best thing you could have suggested, man. That's why I waited up for you. Just to tell you how awesome you are." "Kevin, man, don't say shit like that." "Why not? It's true, J. You know it's true, and if you don't, you need to hear it from me. You are fucking awesome, and I thank you." "Did he make you feel better," I asked. "Yeah, right away. And you and Chuck were right, I did need to talk to somebody who isn't a family member. I got a completely objective opinion about all the shit that's been going on. Hell, I stayed there 'till seven o'clock. Actually, we went out to eat around six, but we kept talking. He is so nice, man. So understanding. But he challenged me, too. He didn't just lick my balls. He made me think. I saw him again today. And it was just as good. I think I'm getting back to being happy." "Oh, Kevin, that's so great." I was genuinely elated over his news. "He said he thought we could work it all out in about six weeks. Shit, I want this guy to be my friend. I don't want to stop seeing him in six weeks." "Well, I think you will. But, anyway, he can still be your friend. Just not at whatever he charges for an hour." "Is it expensive?" There was a kind of look of panic on his face. "Kevin, your dad can afford it, believe me," I said. He laughed. "Well, I guess if his company can afford to give me a tank top, he can afford some counseling that makes me happy." "You said that like you have no idea how much money your father has. Do you, Kevin? Do you even have a clue?" He hesitated for a moment. Then, "I know we're rich. I watch ZDTV when you and Brian aren't around. I know my dad's got lots of money. In fact, I know he's a billionaire. I know Brian and I have trust funds worth over $600 million each. I know all that. But will I make the Asheville High School baseball team?" "You are so cute, you know that?" "You say that to all the boys. I'm not buying it from you." "Not all the boys, Kevin. Just the select few." "Aw, shucks." "Are you and I playing the Dozens right now," I asked. "Yep." "Well, let's don't, okay? I've been worried about you." "I know you have been, Chuck, and I love you for that. If I was playing the Dozens right now, I'd say, 'And I've been worried about your ass, too. That it ain't getting none.' But since we aren't playing, I won't say that, cause I can tell it is. Tell me about Mike." "Do you realize what you just did," I asked. "No, apparently not. What did I do, John? Drop a turd in the punch bowl?" "You asshole. Not that you aren't capable of it," I said, ruffling his hair. "Then what did I do? Tell me." "You called me Chuck. And that's about the biggest fucking compliment you could ever give me, Huck." "No I didn't." "Kevin...." I spread his name out. "You're going to make me cry. Do you know that," Kevin said. "I didn't want to make you sad, dude. I wanted you to know you complimented me," I said. "I'm not crying 'cause I'm sad, J. I'm crying 'cause I'm happy." Tears were streaming down his face. "Did you talk to the doctor about the crying," I asked. "Oh, yeah." He got himself under control. "And..." "And he said he thought I had a mild form of transitory depression. That means it will pass in time." I knew what "transitory" meant, but I didn't point that out. "Does he think you need medicine for the depression," I asked. "No. He said we'll watch it for a few weeks, and then, if it doesn't go away, he'll refer me to a psychiatrist for the medicine. He said the anti-depression medicine tends to stop your limbo, and he doesn't think that side effect would be good for me." "Limbo?" "I think that's it. Your sex drive," he said. "The word's libido, Kevin." "Whatever. So tell me about Mike. How's he doing. And even more, how's his limbo?" "I think the old Kevin is back, dude." "He's coming back. Or he's backing in comin'." "No Dozens," I said. "No fucking Dozens," he said, perhaps with his idea of a German accent. "You don't quit, do you?" "I'll shut up. Tell me about Mike." I told Kevin what Mike had said and what we had decided. He was ecstatic. "Oh, man, we're going to have so much fun with you guys," Kevin said. "You ain't fucking my boyfriend, dude," I said, playfully. "What makes you think I'd want to fuck your boyfriend. And you ain't fucking my girlfriend. Neither is Brian. Both of you fuckers could turn straight tomorrow, and then where would I be? Misty's not interested. I've already asked her. Besides, my dick isn't big enough." Kevin and Brian were two of the cleverest guys I'd ever met, which was a large part of their appeal, but that was just about as funny a thing as I'd ever heard him say. I roared with laughter. "I'd better shut up. I don't want to wake up Brian," I said. "Oh, he's not here. He's spending the night at Rudy's house. They've become quite an item." "Oh. Tell me more." "Well, I don't really know all that much more. I know they've had sex, and I know Brian is crazy about him. I don't know much beyond that. Rudy's got some friends that he and Brian have been hanging out with some." "Gay friends?" "A mix, I think. Three of them came out here Sunday. They're really nice guys. We even played a little basketball. Not Brian or Rudy, but Rudy's friends and me." "A lot can happen in three days with you two," I said. "Hell, J, a lot can happen in three hours." "I know that. I want another drink. You making," I asked. "Sure, J. I really did miss you, and I'm enjoying just talking." Kevin came back in a couple of minutes with two drinks and a can of mixed nuts that he had tucked under his arm. "So how are things with you and Louise," I asked. "They're great. I haven't told her about me and Brian, and I'm not going to. She knows he's gay, but she doesn't know that part of my past. Milton advised me not to come out to her." "Milton?" "Milton Spaulding, my doctor. He wanted me to call him Milton. It seemed natural," Kevin said. "I think he's dead right. You don't have anything to gain from telling her about an illusion you once had." "Man, J, those were his exact words. She spent the weekend here, and we got along really well. She rides horses. Did I tell you that?" "Yeah, you did, Kevin. Did she like Misty?" "Yeah, J, and Misty really liked her, too. And Brian liked Lou, too." "Let me ask you something. When Brian and Rudy's friends were here, was Lou here?" "Yeah, why?" "Well, did you guys get naked? Around each other, I mean." "No. It was all clothed in public." "Did Rudy stay here any time?" "Yeah, he spent Friday and Saturday nights. Lou just spent Saturday night." "Any conflicts? Any problems?" "What are you getting at, man? No, there weren't any problems or conflicts. We all got along great. Why do you ask?" "Just wondering if things went well, that's all," I said. "Yeah, I came home from seeing Milton on Cloud Nine. I pretty much stayed there all weekend. I didn't cry even once. That's a bit of a recent victory for me, don't you think?" I nodded. "And everything was great. Milton wants me to keep a journal for the next few weeks. He wants me to write down everything related to how I feel. I'll let you read it, okay? If you want to. I want Chuck to read it, too. And maybe Brian. I'll have to see how it turns out." "Okay, Huck, I will. I am really bushed. It's four o'clock in the morning, and I'm tired." "I am, too. Let's go to bed." Kevin and I turned out the lights. On the way up the stairs, he said, "Huck, can I sleep with you tonight? I don't mean 'can I have sex with you tonight.' I just want to sleep with you. Is that okay?" "Yeah, Kevin. That would make me very happy." We got in bed naked, and Kevin was asleep in three minutes. I stayed awake at least two more. The next morning Kevin was awake and gone when I finally got out of bed around eleven. I figured he was out riding Misty. I walked down to the barn looking for him, but Misty wasn't there. Midnight greeted me, though, and I noticed they had installed the automatic feeders and waterers. Phil had also repaired the fence in their corral, so things looked pretty good. I went back up to the house, and I got some coffee. I took it onto the patio, and I found a laptop computer with a diskette on top of it. It had a Post It note attached that said, "Here's my journal so far. Please read it, Huck. Love, Kevin." I wasn't sure I was ready for that first thing in my morning, but I decided to take a look at it, anyway. Here's what it said. Journal of Kevin Finch Friday, August 3 I'm writing this journal at the request of my friend Milton Spaulding. I say he's my friend because that's the way I feel about him. He's also my doctor. He's a psychologist that my family suggested I see. He's a very cool guy, and I want to do a good job of writing this because he said it would help me come go grips with the way I'm feeling right now. The way I'm feeling right now is betrayed and fucked up. But I also feel really good right now after Milton and I talked this afternoon and tonight. I know that's kind of a contradiction, but, hey, that's how I feel. Let's take them in order. Betrayed. I feel betrayed by God that he didn't make me gay like he did Brian. I mean, what's one more gay guy on earth? Why can't I be gay? Everybody I care about, except for my dad, is gay. God, why couldn't you have made me and Brian identical in every way, including being gay? When Brian made me admit it, I knew he was right, but I resented the hell out of it. He and I have been having gay sex since we were eleven years old. It started out just jerking off together, then jerking each other off, then sucking each other off, then, finally, fucking. Most of the time Brian wanted me to fuck him, and that was cool. But sometimes he fucked me, and I really got off on that. What was the harm? Every time we did it Brian would ask me if I really wanted to do it. Well, hell, yes, I did. It felt really good, for one thing, and I knew Brian really liked it. He told me it was "gay," and I said, "so what?" I loved touching him, and I know he loved touching me. We gave each other pleasure. Was that so wrong? In seventh grade, I met a girl. She was a couple of years older. She was really fine, and I kind of had a crush on her. I asked Brian if he liked her, too, but he said she was just playing with me. I've never told Brian this, and I probably wouldn't ever tell him unless I let him read this journal, but I fucked her. I was only thirteen, but I had these really strong feelings for her. It was at a King Cake party at her house, and she wanted me to see her room upstairs. I don't know where her parents were, but we made out on her bed. She let me touch her breasts, and I kept getting harder and harder. I don't remember details too well, but eventually I put it in her. She kept telling me to fuck her, fuck her, but I thought that's what I was doing. She told me to thrust in and out, and I took that literally. I thrust into her, and then I pulled all the way out. I was wearing a condom, something I had never seen before but that she had made me wear, and it came off when I pulled out. She put it on me again, and then she told me to stick it in and fuck her. After two or three more repeats of that, I finally got the hang of it. It didn't take me long to shoot, either. I stayed hard, though, and she wanted me to keep on. I did. When she had what I now know was an orgasm, she screamed. Shit, I thought, everybody in the house will hear her and come running. They didn't, though. I did that five or six more times with that girl. I didn't tell Brian because I didn't think he would approve. His approval was the most important thing to me, and I kept it from him so he wouldn't disapprove. I danced with her, too, and Brian said he wished I would dance with him like that. Well, there was no fucking way I was going to dance with my brother, so I stopped dancing with her. In fact, I stopped dancing. Meanwhile, Brian and I advanced sexually. By then we were sucking each other off. I asked that girl if she would suck my cock, and she said no. She said it in a way that made me think girls didn't do that. Only boys did it to each other. That was cool with me. The sucking part was boy sex, and the fucking part was girl sex. I got over my crush on her pretty quickly after just a few weeks. We fought about stupid-ass shit, like which movie we wanted to see or why I spent so much time playing sports and not more time with her. Finally, I just said, "Fuck it," and we broke up. There were three or four more girls like her. I don't even remember their names now, but I had sex with all of them. I never told Brian about it, though. For some reason, I thought he wouldn't approve. In time we got more interested in each other's asses. Brian was the first one to lick my ass and to put a finger inside me. It really felt good, and I wanted him to do more. He asked me if he could fuck me, and I was confused. That was girl sex, and I really had a hard time picturing what he was talking about. I told him it was impossible for two guys to fuck, and he said he would show me what he was talking about. One weekend we were at home all by ourselves. Chuck was spending the night, but he and Calvin had gone out to dinner and to a movie, so we had plenty of time. Brian said that was a good night for us to learn how to fuck. I almost told him I already knew how, but I caught myself before I said it. Brian got a jar of Vaseline from the bathroom and rubbed some into my ass. He put a finger in me all lubed up, and it felt wonderful. He put in a second finger, and that felt even better. "I think you're ready for me," he said. I didn't respond because I had no idea what he was talking about. He made me lie on my back. He put Vaseline all over his cock and pushed it into me slowly. It hurt a little bit, but it wasn't bad. When he stopped for a few minutes, I stopped hurting. Then he went all the way in. He hit a place inside me that made me see stars of pleasure. Then he fucked in and out, just like I had learned to do with the girls, and it felt wonderful. After that, I did the same thing to him. He really liked it, probably more than I had, in fact. We were hooked. Goddamn, Milton, I just had a fucking insight I can't believe I hadn't seen before. Brian knew how to have anal sex because he had already done it. Shit. Just like I had fucked girls without telling him about it, he had fucked guys, too. Damn, how could I have missed that until just now? Brian fucked guys before he fucked me. At that age, I had no idea how guys had sex except blowjobs and jerking each other off, but Brian fucking knew. Man, my head is whirling. I was afraid to tell Brian what I had done with girls because I was afraid he wouldn't approve. He didn't tell me what he had done with guys for the same reason, I'll bet. Our brother J calls that twin spin, and that's exactly what it fucking was. I knew Brian wasn't interested in the "girl thing," and he knew I wasn't interested in the "guy thing." Except I really liked the way he made me feel. And later on, when we were like sixteen or so, he went out with a girl for over a year, probably just to be like me. He told me he really liked what he and his girlfriend did, but I'll bet that was just a lie to cover up. We both knew a long time ago that we were different, but we never talked about it. Damn, that's like a weight lifted off my shoulders. I thought we had lost one another, but we've been on the same wavelength all our lives. Shit, this is too fucking much, man. This journal was a damn good idea, Milton. Thanks, man. I'm going to ask J to read it and comment on it before I e-mail it to you. Shit!!!! I knew that last part demanded a response from me, so this was what I wrote: Dr. Spaulding, this is John Prescott writing now. I've just read Kevin's journal, and I learned stuff about him I didn't know. I had been led to believe that they had both had sex with the same girl on a vacation in Florida when they were about thirteen. Apparently, Kevin had had sex with several girls before that happened. That was news to me. I can certainly vouch for the twin spin thing. They seem to know what the other is doing and thinking without verbal communication. I think Kevin is right when he says they both knew about the other's sexual orientation but didn't want to talk about it. Right now, Kevin is out with his horse Misty, and Brian is at his friend Rudy's house. Kevin seems to really love Misty, but Brian doesn't seem to have the same feelings toward his horse, Midnight. The guy who really needs to read this and comment on it is Chuck Higgins. He's raised those boys, and he knows them inside and out. Call me if you need to to help Kevin. John Prescott.