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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o The 'Bookshelf collection' offers a very wide variety of o
o stories. They have been submitted by people from all over the o
o world. Also from alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no o
o particular order other than offering them to you in alpha- o
o betical directories. o
o I don't believe in categorizing things. "I don't want to o
o be typed therefore I don't type things myself." I think it's o
o a lot more fun to browse around and find 'little' surprises o
o that you might not have even thought of looking for. o
o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult en- o
o tertainment and should not be read by minors. Kristen o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Double Trouble - 6 (MM)
by Randu (c) 1991
Chapter 6
I managed to finally finish my book that night, staying up until
well after midnight. I spent the next morning proof-reading it,
changing a word here-and-there, waiting for the boys to come over and
announce their mother's departure. Around 10:30, I heard the front door
open and the sound of light steps coming up behind me. I was in the
middle of reading so I didn't turn around, and a small pair of hands
reached around to cover my eyes. "Guess who!" giggled a high-pitched,
cheery voice.
"Elementary, Watson," I chuckled. "It's Chris!"
"Awww, how could you tell?" he said, disappointed at being unable to
fool me. He came around the chair and leaned his hip against the side.
He was wearing cut-offs this morning, and a bright-white t-shirt that
showed off his tan nicely.
"I don't really know how I could tell," I told him honestly, not
having the faintest idea how I did it.
"Even our teachers can't tell us apart," he frowned, wondering about
it. I pointed out that his mother could, though. "Yeah, but she's our
mom," he explained.
"Yabbits have long ears," I told him with a straight face, trying
the old joke on him. It took him a moment to get it, and then he
groaned theatrically, punching my shoulder. I asked him if his mom had
gone off to work, and he nodded. "Where's your brother?" This was the
first time I'd only seen half the set.
"He's outside, somewhere," Chris shrugged. "Did you finish your
book?" he asked, indicating the computer.
"Yep, all finished. Well, almost. I'm still putting some finishing
touches on it. As soon as I'm done we can all go swimming if you want."
Chris grinned in agreement and asked if he could stay here and watch me
work. I told him it wasn't very exciting to watch, but he was more than
welcome to stay if he wanted. He beamed a happy, little-boy smile and
promptly sat on my lap. I realized he just wanted to be with me, and it
didn't matter whether what I was doing was interesting or not. While it
made typing on the computer a bit awkward, I felt quite happy, myself.
His clean, fresh-smelling, sun-bleached hair just below my nose was a
bit distracting, though.
We both sat there quietly, my arms reaching around him to work the
key-board as I continued where I had left off. After a few minutes of
this, he craned his neck to smile contentedly at me, and impulsively I
kissed his smooth forehead. `I wish you were my dad,' I heard a small
voice say. At first I smiled back at him, feeling quite pleased by his
fondness for me. Then I realized that he hadn't actually SAID anything.
His mouth was shut, and his lips hadn't moved a tiny muscle. My
expression changed to one of surprise, and Chris's to disbelief. He
quickly got out of my lap, saying in a shaky voice, his face now pale,
"I'm g-gonna go find Cory." He started backing towards the door,
breathing fast like a frightened animal.
"Chris, wait a minute." I definitely wanted to find out what was
going on here. All of a sudden he bent sharply forward, his breath
whooshing out of him as if someone had punched him in the stomach,
grimacing in pain. I jumped out of the chair and ran to him, kneeling
down and putting a hand on his shoulder. "What is it? What's the
matter?"
"It's Cory!" he cried, his face now filled with panic. "He fell out
of a tree!"
"How do you-"
"C'mon!" he said, bolting for the door as I ran bewildered behind
him. Chris headed unerringly to the back of a building two units over,
where we found his brother laying on the ground beneath the low branches
of an apple tree, groaning. I quickly went to him, expecting the worst
and wondering what bones were broken.
"Don't move!" I ordered the boy as he tried to sit up. Chris stood
tensely to one side, watching with concern.
Being a typical young boy, Cory sat up anyway. "I'm ok," he said,
reaching beneath him to rub his butt. "Just got the wind knocked out of
me."
Almost laughing with relief, I tousled his hair. "Please, don't do
that anymore," I begged. "You scared the crap out of me."
"It's not like I did it on purpose," he frowned, looking pointedly
at his twin.
I turned to see Chris watching me, his face still quite pale with
worry. "Relax, Chris. He's ok." I looked back at Cory, whose
expression now mirrored his brother's, nervously biting his lip. I
realized that Chris wasn't worried about his brother, he was worried
about ME. Pieces of the puzzle started fitting together inside my head
as I looked at the two of them, and Chris now grew quite alarmed, his
lower lip trembling. I made a startling conclusion, and tested it.
`You can read my mind, can't you?' I thought silently at him.
His reaction startled me even more. He started crying, hot tears of
shame running quickly down his tender cheeks. "I'm sorry!" he wailed,
his face flushed. "I can't help it!" Whimpering, he quickly ran back
the way we had come.
I turned -totally confused- to Cory, who was looking at me angrily.
"Damn you!" he swore at me, his face livid. "What did you say to him?"
His curse felt like a slap to the face, and he flinched as much as I
did, getting to his feet as he started crying, also. "You're just like
our father!" he yelled accusingly before running off after his brother.
Stunned, I sank to the ground with my thoughts in a whirl, as I
tried to figure things out. Chris had obviously heard my unspoken
thought, and just as obviously Cory hadn't. Looking back, I realized
that it had been Chris who knew my name before I had told them, Chris
who seemed to answer questions before I asked them, yet Cory seemed to
know how I was feeling, if not what I was thinking. I couldn't believe
it had taken me this long to figure it out, but they were very good at
making up excuses for their abilities, and had clearly been trying to
hide them.
Telepathic twins? Incredible, but not unbelievable. I had heard
of twins who were able to communicate between themselves, but this was a
step further. More importantly, why were they so upset at my having
found out, and how was I like their father? Were they afraid I wouldn't
like them any more? They certainly already knew my biggest secret -that
I was a boy-lover- and had probably known it from the first time we met,
and they still liked ME. I was more than a little embarrassed to
realize that Chris, at least, had heard my thoughts about their sexy
bodies. But instead of running away screaming they had almost seemed to
encourage me. I had nothing else to hide, really. The fact that at
least one of them was a mind-reader didn't really bother me. Instead, I
wanted to find out more about my extrordinarily gifted young friends.
I got back up and headed to their house, hoping that was where they
had run off to. The door was unlocked so I let myself in, and I could
hear a muffled sobbing coming from the back rooms. The door to their
room was closed, but now I could hear the heart-breaking little sobs
much clearer as I stood outside, hoping I could get a clue as to the
cause of their distress.
"Don't cry, Chris," I heard Cory say. "He just wanted to have sex
with us anyways." Ouch. That hurt. Serves me right for eavesdropping,
I thought ruefully.
"That's not true and you know it!" Chris said hotly. Then, softly,
"He's outside the door."
"Go away!" Cory shouted. I wasn't going to be gotten rid of that
easily. I opened the door and saw them sitting on the bottom half of a
bunk-bed, Cory with his arm protectively, soothingly around a sobbing
Chris. It broke my heart to see his stricken little face all flushed
and wet with tears.
I sank to my knees in front of them. "Why are you so upset that I
found out about you?" I asked him gently.
"`Cause now you think we're freaks!" Cory said defiantly, hugging
his brother tighter.
"But that's not true," I said, defending myself. "I never once
thought that. Can't you read my mind too?"
Cory shook his head no, looking at me doubtfully. "I'm an empath,"
he told me. "Chris is the telepathetic one."
"TelePATHic," Chris groaned.
"That's what I said."
"No, you said...Never mind." He frowned in consternation at his
twin, sniffing and wiping his face with the back of his hand.
I looked at Cory. "You're empathic? You mean you can tell how
other people are feeling, but you can't hear their thoughts?"
Cory nodded. "You know, like that lady on `Star Trek: The Next
Generation'?"
"You mean `Troi'?" I was a big trekkie fan.
"Yeah, that's the one." He grinned slightly, impressed by my
knowledge. "She's the counselor for the whole ship!"
"Well then, you should be able to tell if I'm lying or not, right?"
"Yeah..." he said slowly.
Chris was also looking at me, his face filled with hope. "You
really don't hate us?"
"Hate you? Why would I hate you?"
They were both silent for a long time, looking at the floor.
Finally, Cory said softly, "Our daddy called us freaks."
"That's why he left," Chris added, another tear running down his
cheek.
Silently, my heart filled with compassion, I took a boy in each arm
and hugged them tightly. Both boys hugged me almost desperately back,
and I hoped they could feel my love for them. How a man that had helped
create such beautiful, gifted young boys could call them `freaks' was
beyond me.
"You're angry," Cory said, pulling away and looking afraid, as if I
might be mad at them.
"He's mad at our dad, not at us," Chris explained, letting me go.
Then he bit his lip, realizing he was reading my thoughts again.
"It's ok, Chris," I said, reassuring him. "I really don't mind."
"You don't?" he said doubtfully, finding it hard to believe.
"You can tell that I don't, can't you?" He nodded slowly. "Did you
really think I wouldn't like you anymore?"
They explained how most people were terrified of having their
thoughts read, of having their innermost secrets discovered. "You
already know my biggest secret, and you still like me," I pointed out.
Cory looked confused, and Chris explained, "He means that he likes
boys." Cory shrugged, non-plussed, as if that weren't nearly as bad as
other peoples' secrets. I shuddered to think what these boys had been
exposed to, from an early age: all of the hate, lies, anger, lust; all
gleaned from the minds and emotions of others. No wonder they weren't
bothered by my attraction to them. It was a credit to their mother's
love that they were sane.
Chris was watching me. `We're doin' ok,' he thought at me, making
me jump. "I'm sorry!" he said out loud. He looked like he was going to
cry again.
"It's ok, Chris," I told him again, wiping a tear from his cheek
with my thumb. "It's just going to take some getting used to. That's
all. Did you two really think you could keep this a secret from me?"
"We were gonna try," Cory admitted honestly, "but Chris kept goofing
up."
"You did too, once!" Chris retorted. He sensed I didn't remember
when this was. "In the pool, that first day," he explained. "Cory
said you were tired."
I thought of something else. "Now that I think of it, he always
seems to have an erection whenever I do, too. That's not a coincidence,
is it?" Cory looked bashfully at the floor, and I knew it wasn't.
"That could be embarrassing, when you get older."
"It only happens when I'm around someone I really like. I kinda get
`connected.'" He smiled shyly at me, blushing.
"Do you really think I only want to have sex with you?" I asked
him, remembering what I had heard him say while I stood outside the
door.
He shook his head, ashamed that I had heard him. "I can tell you
really love us," he said softly. "I only said that to try and make
Chris feel better." He looked at me, his face apologetic. "I'm sorry I
swore at you before. I know I hurt your feelings."
I hugged him again by way of forgiveness, and everything was alright
once more. Now that the crisis was over, I asked them to explain their
abilities. Apparently they could communicate together telepathically,
but only Chris was capable of hearing others. Chris was also able to
make his mother hear him, if he projected a thought at her, but no-one
else. That was why he had been so surprised when I heard him think, `I
wish you were my dad.'
"So THAT'S what you meant when you yelled `He heard me!' at me,"
Cory exclaimed. It seemed Chris had flung the thought at his twin,
catching Cory off guard.
"I'm sorry I made you fall out of the tree," Chris apologized, but
he was sucking in his lips, trying to hold back a grin. I chuckled as
Cory frowned at him; even I could tell the apology wasn't entirely
sincere.
"I think you're only sorry about the fact that you felt it when he
fell," I teased. Chris nodded, smiling openly now.
I wanted to test something. I told Chris to tell me what I was
thinking, closing my eyes and trying to feel him `inside'. All the
science-fiction books I had ever read talked about things like `probing
tendrils of thought'. Chris laughed derisively, picking it up. "It's
not like THAT," he scorned. I hadn't felt a thing; it was kind of
disappointing. He went on to explain that it was something like
listening to different stations on a radio. Each person had a different
`frequency', and all he had to do was tune in. Until I came along, he
had only been able to `broadcast' to his mother's and brother's
stations. "Do you think that's why you can tell us apart so easy?" he
reasoned.
I had to admit it sounded plausible. Perhaps -somehow- the three of
us were linked in some way. It might have had something to do with my
attraction to boys, I suppose. Being boys, the twins decided they had
had enough serious talk and said they wanted to go swimming. "I have to
finish my book, first," I told them regretfully, trying my hardest to
think only about my work. They begged and pleaded, and my concentration
slipped. Chris immediately realized I was joking.
"Wow," he said, impressed. "You tricked me!"
"I'm smarter than you think," I grinned slyly, wrestling him down on
the bed and tickling him until he begged for mercy, his tears forgotten.
It was comforting to know that he could still be fooled; I would have
missed the pleasure of teasing him, otherwise.
I sat on the bed and watched as they stood up, stripping off their
shirts. I quickly reached out and poked a finger into each little navel
while their heads were covered, making them both suck in their bellies.
"How come you like tickling us so much?" asked Cory, exasperated by my
constant kitchie-cooing.
"Because I like hearing you laugh," I answered simply, "and it's
easier than telling you jokes." He smiled indulgently, shaking his head,
graciously willing to put up with my eccentricities. They took off
their shorts and underpants, standing back up unashamedly while I openly
admired the now naked twins, all of us glad that we no longer had any
secrets between us. I noticed their sunburns seemed to be healing well,
already turning to a light colored tan. I could feel my penis starting
to swell as I looked at them, and Cory's little one twitched in empathy.
"You're a dirty old man," he teased, snickering as he fondled
himself suggestively.
`Spank him!' I heard Chris suggest to me silently, a giggling echo
trailing the thought.
Not needing any further encouragement, I snatched Cory off the floor
and bent him over my lap on the bed, catching him completely off guard.
It seemed that Chris was able to selectively `broadcast', and his twin
hadn't heard it as he yelled in surprise. "Dirty old man, huh?" I said
in mock anger as I gave his twitching little butt a playful slap. Chris
laughed in delight as his twin cried out in alarm at having been
deceived. I gave him a few more little slaps to make his brother happy
(and me too, I must admit), and I noticed Chris rub his own butt as if
he were feeling it also.
Cory shouted his apologies, and I rolled him over. His little
pecker was now as stiff as mine, poking up in the air from his smooth
groin. I held his thin wrists in one hand over his head and looked at
Chris. "I don't think he's really sorry, do you?" I asked him with a
grin. "Maybe we should tickle him to make sure." Chris nodded his eager
agreement, and before his brother could disagree we started poking and
prodding him everywhere on his body, leaving nothing untouched. Chris
would tickle his armpits while I squeezed a knee, I would poke his belly
and ribs while Chris playfully squeezed his hard-on or pinched his butt
until Cory was screaming and squirming, hiccuping with laughter.
"Enough?" I asked the panting boy, who was so out of breath he could
only nod his head as I released him, his chest rising and falling in
relief as I stroked his soft tummy.
"I think I'd rather you told me jokes," he said wryly, once he
recuperated. I gave his ribs one final poke and he giggled again in
spite of himself. Then he accused us of ganging up on him. Chris
artfully reminded him that he had done the same thing last night, more
or less, and Cory let it drop, figuring they were even and wanting to go
swimming instead of arguing about it.
They scampered into the bathroom and Chris stood on the edge
of the tub, pulling their swim-suits and towels off the curtain rod
where they had been hung to dry. They quickly pulled on the little
bikinis, reaching a hand inside to straighten out their small boy-parts.
My erection had gone down somewhat, as had Cory's, but his was still a
bit longer and more full than usual, clearly outlined beneath the nylon
brief. We went to my house, and the boys curiously followed me into
my bathroom to watch me change. I guess it was only fair: I had watched
THEM change. Their eyes widened in appreciation as I stood there naked
before pulling on my trunks, my penis semi-erect. I was only average in
size, but big compared to their little ones. I grabbed a bottle of
sun-tan lotion and quickly put some on their fading sunburns, not
wanting them to burn again.
We spent the rest of the afternoon swimming and frolicking in
the water, until starvation forced us to seek supper. Susan wouldn't be
back until later in the evening, so it fell upon me to feed the hungry
boys. I suggested an expedition to Mc'Donalds, for convenience's sake,
and they readily agreed.
"Why don't we clean up first?" I asked, feeling the need for a
shower. "You guys go home and take a quick bath and I'll come get you
in about a half-hour, ok?" They were old enough to be left alone for a
short while, and I was right next door if they needed me. They ran off
without any argument, since they were hungry and wanted to eat as soon
as possible. I went home and quickly showered, putting on clean shorts
and a shirt, arriving at their place about 25 minutes later. I knocked
and opened the door, only to find the boys still wearing their
swim-suits, sitting on the living-room floor.
"What's the matter?" I asked, wondering why they weren't ready. "I
thought you guys were going to take a bath?"
Both boys were silent, looking at me rather nervously. Chris
elbowed his brother in the ribs, prompting him. "We want you to give us
our baths," he said hesitantly, sounding like a much younger boy.
"I thought you were hungry," I said, wondering what was going on.
Not that I didn't WANT to bathe them, but I was hungry too.
"Please?" said Chris, his eyes almost pleading. I don't know why,
but for some reason it seemed very important to them. I shrugged and
nodded, giving in, and they quickly ran into the bathroom, leaving me to
follow behind. They both stood next to the tub, waiting anxiously and
looking almost helpless; they hadn't even turned the water on. I
started filling the tub, making sure the water was comfortably hot and
closing the drain. Noticing a box of `Mr. Bubble' on the side, I
dumped in a generous amount of bubble bath, watching as the tub slowly
filled with water and bubbles. Cory and Chris just stood there waiting,
apparently wanting me to undress them, also. They were acting almost
like toddlers, and it was very unlike them to want to be babied like
this. I didn't mind doing it, of course, if it was what they wanted.
As I mentioned before, I had always dreamed of the things I would do if
I were a father, and this was one of them.
I sat on the edge of the tub and pulled Cory to me, and he balanced
himself with a hand on my shoulder as I pulled down his swim-suit, his
little penis bouncing merrily as he stepped out of it. He smiled
thankfully at me and climbed into the tub, splashing a little to make
more bubbles as I stripped off Chris's SPEEDO. The boy hugged me before
joining his twin, and I was filled once again with love for them.
I pulled off my shirt, expecting a bit of splashing from the two
imps, and grabbed a bar of soap in one hand and a wash-cloth in the
other. I started with Cory, having him stand up to make it easier as I
washed his face and neck, then down his back, using both the cloth and
my hand as I soaped his young body. My hands followed the gentle curves
down to his delightful butt, and I slid my soapy fingers into the narrow
crevice, making him jerk when I goosed his tiny, puckered hole. I
rinsed him down and turned the water off, and began washing his front.
Lovingly, I lathered his chest and tickled his small nipples with my
fingertips. I loved how they felt: the tiny, sensitive tips poking out
as my hand slid across his soapy skin. He had an erection now, as did
I, and his small organ was pointing up at my face.
I glanced at Chris and saw him playing with himself beneath the
frothy layer of bubbles, watching us intently. I felt Cory tremble
slightly as if he were cold, but there was sweat beading on his
forehead. "Are you ok?" I asked. Neither one had said a word this
whole time, and it seemed as if they were worried and very tense.
Cory nodded, but he was still shaking. "Your's is hard too," he
whispered in an almost babyish voice, the `r's softly lisped. His eyes
were closed, so he must have been sensing my body's reaction to washing
him.
"You want to touch his pee-pee," said Chris in a flat, emotionless
voice. I didn't know why they were acting so strangely, and it was
making me nervous, unsure of what to do. I felt as if I were acting in
a play, but no-one had told me what my lines were.
`Go ahead,' Chris thought at me. `He needs you to touch him.'
Still confused, I soaked the wash-cloth and held it to Cory's chest,
rinsing him off a little as the water ran down his front. His eyes
were achingly filled with longing as I rubbed the bar of soap over his
belly, raising a lather of suds. Placing one hand on his back to hold
him steady, I ran the other in circles over his stomach, getting it nice
and slick. Gently, I ran my soapy hand over his genitals, sliding my
fingers over his stiff little prick and softly fondling his balls. He
whimpered once, a barely audible whine, and I quickly removed my hand,
looking at him worriedly.
`Don't stop!' Chris thought sharply at me, once again projecting his
mind.
Still unsure of what was happening, I continued soaping the young
boy's groin, lovingly caressing him with my fingers as Cory nudged his
hips forward, pushing himself against my hand. Sensing his need, I took
his firm little penis between my thumb and two fingers, gently squeezing
to increase the friction against the slippery suds as I slowly rubbed
it's short length. I could feel it throb as I stroked it, and Cory
began thrusting his hips back and forth, grunting with an almost
desperate desire, his hands clenched at his sides. He cried out
"Daddy!" when he climaxed, but I knew he wasn't referring to me. I felt
Cory's entire body shudder as the orgasm went through him, his moans of
ecstasy seemingly mingled with cries of deep suffering that had waited
long for release. He was actually sobbing when it was over, tears
streaming down his cheeks as he threw his arms around my neck in grief,
crying on my shoulder.
Wondering what I had done to cause all this, I looked a question at
Chris as I held his trembling, naked brother against me. `He's ok now,'
I heard him say silently, a solemn tear of sympathy running down his own
cheek. `Just love him.'
I did my best to comfort the crying boy, holding him in my arms as I
softly stroked his wet skin and said helpless, meaningless words like
"Shhh" and "It's ok." I didn't know if it was ok or not, but it seemed
to soothe him as he cried himself out, his heaving sobs becoming little
whimpers until his tears finally tapered off to sniffles. Still he
clung to me, and I gave him a tight hug before gently pushing him off of
my shoulder, holding him at arm's length.
"Are you alright now?" I asked him, my voice filled with concern.
He wouldn't look at me, and I could tell he was embarrassed by his
outburst. "It's ok to cry," I told him. "The boys in my books cry
sometimes, too." He nodded, and I knew that made him feel a little
better. I wanted to ask him what all this had been about, but I didn't
think he'd want to talk about it. If he wanted me to know he could tell
me when he was ready. Instead, I pulled him back in my arms and said,
simply, "I love you, Cory."
"I love you too," he said in his soft voice, hugging me back.
Quietly, he sank down in the water and rinsed himself off.
"Now wash ME!" Chris demanded in a cheery voice, breaking the somber
mood that was hanging over us. Smiling gratefully at him, I gestured
for him to stand up and took soap and wash-cloth in hand once again. I
could tell he wasn't going to repeat his brother's performance as he
giggled and wiggled beneath my soapy, tickling hands. He said to hurry
because he was hungry, and I was leery about masturbating him anyway
after seeing how his brother had reacted, so I quickly soaped his penis
and tiny balls and told him to rinse off, leaving it at that.
They climbed out of the tub and quickly dried themselves off, no
longer feeling the need for me to baby them and acting like nothing
unusual had happened. They ran to their bedroom and pulled on clean
underpants, shorts, t-shirts and sneakers, then ran back to the
bathroom, combed their hair and yelled, "Let's go!"
I dried off my chest where Cory had gotten me wet and put my shirt
back on. Cory pointed out apologetically that my shorts were all
wet too, so we all headed to my place so I could change before going out
to eat.
At Mc'Donalds, they wanted `happy-meals', which I gladly bought for
them. Cory and Chris were always polite, saying please and thank-you
quite sincerely, but I think they knew they could have had their way
with me even if they were uncourteous. It was nicer to spoil boys that
had manners, though.
It was almost dark when we got back home and their mother hadn't
returned from work yet, so we settled down on their couch and watched
old reruns on `Nickelodeon', the cable TV channel. They enjoyed the old
shows as much as I did, laughing as we watched `Get Smart', `Mister Ed',
`The Dick Van Dyke Show'; all the old programs from my own youth.
By the time Susan came home the three of us had fallen asleep on the
couch. Chris was sprawled on his stomach on top of me, Cory snuggled
against my side, my arms around both of them. She gently shook me awake
and said, "You guys look pretty comfortable." My hands were still
beneath the young boys' shirts and I quickly removed them. I had
drifted off into a blissful doze while stroking Chris's back and Cory's
side, but I wasn't sure what their mother would think of my intimacy.
The twins came groggily awake when they heard their mother's voice,
and we disentangled ourselves. "Sorry I had to work so late, Tom,"
said Susan, as Cory and Chris hugged her hello with sleepy yawns. I
waved off her apology, letting her know I didn't mind. "The boys give
you any trouble?" she asked. The boys in question looked at me
expectantly, remembering all that had happened today and wondering what
I would say. I was wondering, myself.
"Well, Cory fell out of tree," I told her, and when her eyes widened
in concern I quickly added, "but he didn't get hurt any." Cory looked
guiltily at his mother, wondering if he'd get reprimanded. "I should
have been watching him closer," I went on, apologizing for my lax
attention to her sons.
She sighed ruefully with a small laugh. "They're BOYS, Tom. You
can't possibly watch them every second, and I honestly wouldn't want you
to anyway." She lovingly ruffled the boys' hair, and they smiled up at
her. "They're going to get scrapes and cuts once in a while, and
nothing you or I can do will prevent it. We can WORRY about it,
though," she added with an exasperated smile.
I laughed, filled with admiration for this single-mother as she
ordered the twins to bed. Cory and Chris hugged me and kissed me
good-night, and her eyebrows raised slightly as she watched them. She
didn't seem to dissaprove though. Before I left I invited her over for
some coffee after she put the boys to bed, and she accepted. I wanted
to tell her that I had found out about her sons' abilities, and to find
out more about them.
She knocked on my door about a half-hour later, and her expression
seemed relieved as we sat down at the kitchen table. "Chris and Cory
told me what happened today," she began, taking a sip of coffee. "I
appreciate how well you handled everything. I don't think either one of
them could have coped with another rejection, especially from you."
I hoped she didn't know everything that I had `handled' today. I
didn't know if the boys had told of the bath-time incident or not. "I
was bound to find out about them eventually," I told her. "I'm an
expert on boys, remember? You said so yourself."
Susan didn't laugh at my small joke. I could see she was hesitating,
thinking about what she wanted to say. "I think you're more than an
`expert', Tom," she said carefully, watching my reaction. "Would you
care to tell me about it?"
Oh Jesus, I thought to myself, feeling my face go pale in panic.
The mother of two nine-year-old boys knows what I am. Should I deny it?
Self-preservation was my first instinct. I could see the headline:
`Popular children's author denounced as a PEDOPHILE!' She was watching
me intently, as my thoughts churned. She obviously already had her
suspicions; anything less than the truth would be unbelieved. I
swallowed hard and took a deep breath, preparing -for the first time in
my life- to admit to another adult my deepest secret.
"I'm a boy-lover," I said. Looking her in the eye as I said it was
the hardest thing I've ever done. I cocked an ear, listening for sirens
to announce my arrest.
She nodded, once. No accusations, no hysteria, no cries of
`pervert'. Just a nod. "I know that was hard for you, Tom. But I want
you to know that I appreciate your honesty. If you had lied I would
have thought less of you. And no," she added, "I'm not going to call
the police or tell anyone else."
I breathed a sigh of relief when she said this. "I suppose you'll
be looking for another baby-sitter now," I said regretfully, figuring my
relationship with Cory and Chris was over. "I'll stay away from them,
if you say so."
"No, no Tom, you're misunderstanding," she said earnestly. "I'm
trying to tell you that it's ok. I know you love them both, and they
love you too." I was looking at her with amazement, convinced I must
have been dreaming. "You gave them a BATH, Tom," she went on. "That's
something they haven't let anyone do since they were 4 years old. Not
even me!"
I got some more coffee as Susan began filling me in on their past.
She explained how her and her husband had known the boys were
`different' since infancy. Cory would be very sensitive to their moods,
while Chris could always make his mother understand what he needed, even
before he could talk. When the twins did learn to speak -at the age of
two- their talents became more apparent. Susan's husband loved their
special boys as much as she did, but one time -when Susan had to work
late- he was giving the little boys a bath and his love crossed into
taboo territory (to his thinking):
He had been washing 4-year-old Cory when the little boy popped a
boner. Nothing unusual about that. The problem began when he felt his
own penis harden, as he looked at his young son's erection. Cory could
sense this, and told him so. I immediately realized the whole bath
scene this afternoon had been a re-enactment of this. Chris picked up
his father's desire to touch the little pecker, and also told him.
Instead of caressing it for a moment, as Cory wanted him to do (because
he loved his daddy and he could feel that even his daddy's body loved
him), the man was filled with self-loathing and guilt at his sexual
reaction to the little boy, made all the worse because the boys KNEW
about it. He slapped the four-year-old, the first time he had ever
struck one of his sons, and called them both freaks, when it was he
himself who thought he was perverted. When Susan came home and the
distraught twins told her what had happened, she tried explaining to the
man that any good psychologist could tell him that his erection had been
completely normal. The damage had been done, though. Every time he
looked at the boys he knew they were aware that he had been sexually
attracted to them, and -his `masculinity' in doubt- he couldn't live
with it. A few days later he simply left, telling Susan to file for a
divorce and that she could have whatever she wanted. He still provided
child-support, but that was little comfort to fatherless, hurt young
boys. From then on, Cory and Chris insisted on bathing themselves,
fearing their mother might leave also.
Susan finished the story by saying that Cory had taken on the role
of protective older-brother, hating his father but never mourning him,
until today. "You showed him that what his father felt wasn't bad, that
it wasn't his fault, that you love him for what he is and don't feel
guilty or self-conscious about it. They both desperately needed to know
that someone besides myself could love them, someone who knew they were
telepathic and wasn't afraid of them. I think only a man like you could
have done it."
Susan went on to tell me more: How the boys had been aware of other
people's sexual feelings since they were out of diapers, sleeping
together and experimenting with their own bodies. She said (and I
blushed) that if they were going to fool around with someone else she
would rather it be with someone she knew, and who loved them both, than
with a stranger off the street. She even said she was a bit jealous of
them!
We talked past midnight until both of us were yawning, and finally
said our good-nights. We hugged -chastely- like brother and sister,
drawn together by our mutual love for her sons. My love also had a
sexual element to it, though. It was good not to have any secrets, I
thought, as I drifted off to sleep a little later, visions of two
identical boys dancing naked through my head.
--
(To be continued)
Authors note: No, it's still not finished. Getting rather long, though.
My English teacher would have been proud (and quite shocked). };)
Randu