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Inside Track Pt. 01

By: Cassie007



[Author's Note: If I have an apology to make about this story, it's that it pushed ahead of others waiting patiently in the queue to come out of my head. There are a lot of stories, and lots of adult material, on the internet about female-female incest (usually sisters, twins and, sometimes, moms/daughters). And thank goodness for that. But stories about love between brothers is rare, and this puzzled me. So, partly to feed that curiosity, and partly as a way of writing something out of my comfort zone (I.e. from a male perspective), 'Inside Track' jumped the queue. I hope you like it, even if two guys together aren't your usual thing.]



Prologue



So I was lying there, in my small and cramped single bed, in the middle of the night, facing the wall with my right arm going numb, sweat beading my forehead and my brother Timmi's cock drilled up my open asshole, thinking about life.

Timmi had been hammering my tube for about five minutes now, and my own cock was just about as hard as it was ever going to get, which made it uncomfortable every time he thrust into me; the movement bashing my swollen member against the cold wall I was pressed against. My left leg, held up by Timmi's good left hand, was starting to feel the first signs of cramp, and I had the most unbelievable itch on my nose that I had no way of scratching in the position I was in. I could hear Timmi's ragged breathing against the back of my neck where he laboured to delay his moment of orgasm. His lean body rubbed against mine when he thrust into me, and I could feel the clenching of his ass cheeks with the free arm I'd thrown behind him.

How did it come to this? With my own twin brother screwing the hell out of me in the cramped confines of my own bed? Well, like everything, it was a story of pretty ordinary life, interrupted by an Event, shaken up like a cocktail that had only barely been invented, then thrown into a spin you couldn't possibly have imagined more than a short while ago.

Timmi pushed his cock as far as he could up my ass, bristling his recently-shaved pubis against my skin and squashing his balls beneath my ass as a low moan escaped his lips. I felt - actually felt - the first glorious pulse as he shot his cum deep up inside me.

Looking back on it (like it was some ancient historical event, or something), it all came down to one thing. And if there's a message here for anyone who wants to read it, the answer's simple, kids. Don't do drugs. Yeah, that's the main of it. Don't do drugs.



Chapter One

Three months ago



This is the story of Timmi and Clay (that's me; Clay). Timmi and Clay aren't our real names, or at least that's what mom would say. She would say that we were Timothy and Clayton. Anything else was just a silly kind of nickname. 

Well, Timmi and I kind of liked our silly nicknames. It was pretty much our only rebellion against a mom who struggled - really struggled - to raise us on our own since our never-once seen father ran off to join the circus, fight a war, become an artist, or an astronaut (the destination, if you ever felt the need to ask mom, changed all the time. Timmi and I grew up thinking dad was some creature halfway between an unknown hero and a mythical boogeyman). And, after nineteen long suffering years raising two boys into an essentially feminist household, mom had done a fine job. Timmi and I, apart from being largely identical, were smart, healthy and well-mannered young men. Twins who were taught to appreciate the finer things in life, and from a very female point of view. We were a couple of young guys who had grown up in the shadow of militant feminism (and occasional lesbianism) as a backdrop to daily life. 

Since we were pretty much the age of year dot, mom had hosted some kind of a women's liberation meeting at our small house just outside of Miami once a month, on a rotation system with her friends. As young boys, Timmi and I were coo-ed over and petted; the beloved new-age boys of Maddy Jones. As we grew older, and hormones started kicking in, we began to be viewed with growing suspicion by the Liberation Circle. To be fair, the feeling was mutual. Where, once upon a time, Timmi and I saw these friends of mom as regular, if infrequent, visitors who brought candy and smiled at us, ruffled our hair and told us stories, there were now older, frumpier women who told us what we should do, who we should vote for when he grow older, and how we should treat women when we grew up.

Large doses of the R Hormone (that's 'Rebellion Hormone') soured any view we had of these people, but not of mom. Never of mom. 

So the only outward rebellion we ever chose was to shorten our names. Mom tutted and grumbled about it, but secretly (we're pretty sure) she didn't mind at all. Timmi and I were well behaved at High School; studious and well-mannered, and did our best to treat everything with a mutual, but healthy competition. Our main shared love (apart from not-too radical rock music) was athletics. In particular, middle-distance running. 

We were both had our dark hair to about shoulder length, adopting that indie/goth style that slipped and out of fashion. And we had identical dark eyes to go with the same olive complexion mom had got from some Native American heritage. We both maxed out, at about the age of fifteen, at about five feet, nine inches (mom strictly adhered to the imperial system of measurement. Everywhere was miles, not kilometers; inches, not centimeters; gallons, not liters. Maybe she didn't like the way metric words ended). We both worked out, of course, and had healthy appetites, which meant that we had lean and well-toned physiques. Nothing too muscular, but lean and good for running. We pretty much shared every major running accolade in, first, High School, and then college. We congratulated each other when the other twin came first, and never crowed on about it when we beat the other. It was the Inside Track, we used to say. Whoever got that, would come out on top. And we would never fight dirty on the running track.

Oh, but we were very good boys.

And, clearly, that was going to change, or you wouldn't have read about how it got to the point where we fucked each other up the poop-chute on a regular basis.

It was an advert on the wall at college, hidden among the leaflets promoting dances, parties and - occasionally - academic notices. Parties were something pretty alien to me and my brother, so we had what you might call a fairly thin appreciation of social activities of most guys and girls of our age. We'd both had girlfriends, but had never gone past first base (first base was kissing, mom told us. Occasionally with tongues, but not necessarily. Anything after that should wait until marriage. Timmi once remonstrated with mom that first base was supposed to be touching a woman's breast, but mum had reacted so hotly, I had intervened on her behalf, and made it up to my brother later in our room).

But anyway, it was this one small notice on the board that caught my eye. I can still remember the detail clearly:

Wanted. Individuals for muscle-tone experimentation study. Subjects must be healthy, and prepared to undergo strenuous exercise. All expenses paid.

There was a number printed on the bottom, and I copied it down. I spoke to Timmi about it, and we agreed to call the number. It was the 'expenses' part that clinched it, you see. Ever since we were old enough to understand, Timmi and I had done our best to generate a little extra income for mom, who worked herself to the bone to raise us in a good house with good food. We took jobs as paperboys, car washers and, even, baby-sitters. But during college term, finding even this kind was work was difficult. So when I saw the advert, and spoke to my brother about it, we decided to make the call. There was the risk, of course, that the number was crank, or some kind of frat joke to play on dweebs like us, but it turned out it wasn't. It was from a university team working out of a college wing doing a study sponsored by a major sports supplement company.

A nice-sounding lady took our call and took our details. When I told her that my brother and I were identical twins, she got (and this is the only word I can describe for it) excited. Excited like someone important had suddenly revealed themselves to her. She quickly passed us on to a well-spoken English gentleman who took further details, then agreed to call us back. He did so, within a few minutes, and asked if we could come for a meeting at their offices the next day. Sure, I'd said. All expenses paid, right?

We decided not to tell mom about it, just I case it was a crock after all. So we lay in bed that night, staring at each other across our small room as we huddled into our thick duvets. We made plans to go straight after college, as we both finished mid-afternoon. It would mean missing athletics training, but we could skip a turn. Coach Nieberson would allow that of his two star athletes, surely?

The next day went by incredibly slowly, at least for me. I found myself clock-watching all morning, and had no appetite at lunch. So, when class finished at 1515, I hooked up with Timmi at out pre-arranged meeting point near the main college gates. Timmi was dressed, like me, in loose jeans, t-shirt and shirt, with overly-smart sneakers. We tried to dress differently but, like most identical twins I suppose, ended up choosing the same kind of clothes anyway. It was that kind of empathic/telepathic link I'd read about so much.

So, anyway, we caught the bus to the other side of town where the science team were conducting their muscle-tone experimentation study. We rang the bell at the main door, and were met at the door by a striking young blonde woman, whose looks were only marred by a slightly large nose, and strong jaw-line. She shook our hands and asked us to follow her in. Timmi and I shared a grin as we walked behind the woman, the two of us staring at the thin ass and slim hips she had squeezed into her beige skirt. She had damn fine legs, that woman, who we only ever met three times, and only ever knew as "Janice". Athletic legs, like mine and Timmi's, but shapely. I bet me and my twin brother had the same thoughts about them too.

Anyhoo, She took us to a very un-scientific lounge area and invited us to sit down. Out of instinct, we took the small two-seater couch, rather than the other, single chairs in the room. Within a minute, Janice introduced to the guy we'd spoken to yesterday; Dr Kevin Daniels who turned out to be English, just like I suspected. He had got a grant to conduct this study (he told us), and was thrilled to meet us.

"Do you know why?" he said, his well spoken tones giving the air of both professionalism with their soft, soothing quality. 

"'Cuz we're, like, athletes?" Timmi ventured. Dr Daniels smiled and nodded.

"Yes. Although that's only the half of it. To be honest, the reason I'm so excited is that you are identical twins. You are identical, aren't you?" He added, as though checking a fact he was suddenly unsure of. I nodded.

"Uh-huh. Right down to the DNA."

"Excellent! Excellent. Well, let me explain what we're hoping to achieve, what we'd like to involve you with, and, of course, how much compensation you can expect to receive."

We sat forward on the couch, and listened. 

I won't get all the details right, so I won't try to remember it the way Dr Daniels said it. I'd get the words wrong, or something messed up and you say to yourself 'Hey, Clay's talking a load of old horse here. That word Cyto-fyto-mono-whatsititis has nothing to do with muscle stimulation or cell regeneration! He's making the whole Goddamn thing up!'

So, what it boiled down to were the layman's headlines. Dr Daniels and his team were trying to figure out a way of muscle stimulation for athletes and sports enthusiasts without falling foul of the incredibly strict drugs controls within most sports. They reckon they had a bead on it, and needed test subject. The experiments involved a series of six injections, administered first by Dr Daniels or his team, or by each other when we had been trained how to do it. The project was likely to last six weeks, with a few further weeks of observation and check-up. Our main concern was, not surprisingly, that we would be labelled as drugs cheats if we took part in any athletics meets during or after the test.

"There may be side effects, that's true." said Dr Daniels in his oh-so-soft English voice. "To be honest, we're breaking new ground here, and that's why the compensation is so generous."

And, boy, was it generous all right! Timmi and I were getting three thousand dollars each for the ten week trial, and all it involved was a few injections, and about two hours' a week monitored exercise, some tests and 'personal feedback', whatever that was. Anyway, I was interrupting my own story. Dr Daniels was trying to ease our fears about the prospect of being labelled drugs cheats.

"I can't see the side-effects, if there are any, lasting much longer than the duration of the project" he said. "Do you have any important trials or competitions during the next month?"

I looked at Timmi and he shrugged. "There's the season trials," he said "for selection at the end-of-academic-year games, but Clay and I already have our places on that."

Dr Daniels sat back, finger on his chin in an almost effeminate pose. 

"Hmm. Well, I should steer clear of college meets for the duration of the test, if I were you." He said. "I'll speak to your coach this evening, if you leave me his number, and explain what's happening. He should be able to field any criticism."

Timmi looked at me and, this time, it was my turn to shrug. "When do we start?"

Dr Daniels smiled broadly, showing a gold tooth on the left hand set of his jaw. "How about now?"



*****



Janice took us into a much more experimental station and asked us to change into running shorts and vests. A male assistant in a lab coat (who, I swear to all things holy, looked to be about twelve years old) attached electrode pads to our heads, chests, stomachs and thighs. Then we got up onto a pair of running machines and started to jog. Dr Daniels talked to us through a loud speaker, telling us this was just an exercise to get a 'base-line' for his study. After ten minutes' gentle jogging - just over a mile in fact, the machines stopped and we got off. We'd barely broken a sweat. 

Dr Daniels came in with a small trolley and some medical implements on it. He asked us if we were ready for the injections and we said yes. He took a syringe for each of us and injected the electric blue cyto-fyto-whats-it into our arms. It stung a little, but wasn't too painful. Dr Daniels asked us if we were okay and we both said yes. Then he asked us to rest for twenty minutes and run the distance again. We did so, only this time we did sweat. A lot more than either I or Timmi would have expected. 

After we finished, and showered, he took some test measurements, spoke to us again about the project, and about talking to Coach Nieberson, and warned us once again that If we should feel any side-effects, we should call him, or Janice once again. We smiled, nodded and met Janice for the last time as she showed us out. Once again, Timmi and I grinned at each other as we stared at her tight ass as she walked us out.

We felt okay. Really. We felt like there was nothing wrong.

We caught the bus home, and I kept checking on Timmi from the corners of my eyes as we travelled, making sure he was okay; not sweating too hard, or grimacing in some inner pain. If there was some inner pain, he didn't show it. And I suspect he was checking me out just as much as I was checking him. It was a funny thing, come to think of it; watching my brother like that. I guess that maybe it started as early as that bus ride home. I can remember looking at the way Timmi blinked; how those long, fat eyelashes we shared dipped over his eyes and rose back up again; almost lazily, sensuously. I stared at the soft jaw line, tracking a smooth cheek down to a finely pointed chin. I looked at his lips, seeing if there was any mumbling evidence there of pain being battened down, but noticing how full and plump they were, how red they looked in the late afternoon glow. I looked at the only other thing that was visible from the clothes he was wearing; his hands. I knew that Timmi and I shared the same, long, slim fingers attached to a small-palmed hand. But, on that bus journey home, they looked graceful somehow. Delicate, rather than skinny. None of that mattered at the time. My twin brother looked okay, and that was that.

We got home, storing the first instalment of the money from Dr Daniels into a shared pot we kept in our room. 

"You feeling okay?" I asked Timmi, as we got changed into some suitable lounge wear to hang about the house.

"Yeah. I'm okay. In fact, I feel pretty good."

"I feel sweaty."

"So take a shower."

"Yeah, I might."

And there, dear readers, is a snapshot of the scintillating world of dialogue between the Jones brothers as was three months ago. Yep; talking to each other was about as dull as mustard. Functional, restricted to sports, house chores, homework, sports, food, girls and sports, it would have bored the ass off a prairie dog. Seems almost quaint now.

So I'd taken a shower and, when I closed my eyes to the hot cascade of water over my head and down my shoulders, became aware of a rising sense of erotica within me. With some surprise, I looked down and saw that my cock was jutting quite proudly from my body; a full 90 degrees from the dark, wet tufts of my pubis. I felt like touching it; taking hold of it in an instinctive way, but held back. There was something even more erotic in not jerking off. I picked up the soap instead and started soaping myself down, feeling the suds glide over my lean body. I rubbed the smooth bar across my nipples and got a satisfying ripple/thrill as it brushed over my nipples. I did it again; rubbed the soap bar over my nipples, and marvelled at the thrill. But I didn't expect the next part.

Soaping up my fingers, I reached behind me and started to rub the crack between my ass cheeks, with no other thought than to clean myself 'down there below' as mom used to say. But when my middle- and index-fingers brushed up against my anus, I felt another one of those weird erotic thrills. I stopped, did it again, and shuddered. On impulse, I bent my back within the shower cubicle, parted my legs a little, and reached behind me. This time, I rubbed at the soft skin around my hairless asshole, and pushed in with my finger. My middle finger slid up to the first knuckle inside me, and it felt good. It felt damn good, so I just pushed it in a little more. I got it up as far as I could and held it there inside me. I could feel my breath coming quick, and didn't even need to look to see that my cock was straining at my foreskin. I slid my middle finger out slowly and teased my anus again. This time with my middle and index fingers. 

And when I pushed two fingers up inside my asshole, it didn't surprise me that the feeling was even more intense. A little uncomfortable, sure. But intensely erotic. I slid my fingers in and out, using the soap and hot water as the lubricant. And, after I held my finger up inside myself as long as I could, waggling them within me, I surprised myself even more by cumming involuntarily on the shower cubicle floor. I hadn't even touched my cock!

I finished my shower, then got out, determined not to tell Timmi anything about it. I even succeeded in forgetting about it completely until bed time, when, feeling the cooler air on my nipples as I undressed, I felt my cock start to rise once more. Timmi was still in the bathroom, and thank God for that. Imagine my twin brother walking in to see me with a seven incher stabbing the bedroom air? I hurried into bed wearing only my boxer shorts, and tried to stop myself from jerking off. I couldn't. My cock was like this elemental thing attached to me that craved to be touched, held. I was laying on my side, waking furiously, when Timmi walked in. 


Inside Track Pt. 01



I made a point of rolling over in my bed, trying to disguise what I had been doing. But there had been that momentary flicker of Timmi's big, dark eyes as he walked toward his bed. Not looking at me. Looking down at the duvet covering my body. Had he seen me? Hell, it wouldn't have been the first time we'd caught each other. We had lived together for nineteen years. Spent many of those formative ones, measuring up, trying to convince the other who had the biggest dong. But this somehow felt different.

I could not get over how horny I felt, even with Timmi in the room. We'd said goodnight, and Timmi had yawned broadly, declaring how wasted he felt. I watched him slip out of his clothes into his boxers (like me) and creep under the cold bedcovers. He flicked the light switch on his side of the room and it all went dark. But I stayed on my side, facing him, just making out the shapes and curves of his body in the gloom. I was, to be honest, waiting until Timmi was asleep before letting myself jerk off once again. After a few minutes, sure he had done so, I shifted my arm to better grab myself. Timmi must have sensed the movement.

"Hey bro?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you feel, like, a bit bigger?"

"How do you mean? Muscles and stuff?"

"Umm. Nah. I mean, you know. Bigger. Like, down there."

Suddenly, I had this image of Timmi holding onto his own cock as he asked me that question. Feeling, with his long, delicate fingers, the length and strength of it. I almost reached for my own.

"I'm not sure," I lied. "Maybe a little. Is your bigger?"

"Yeah. I think so. Do you think Coach Nieberson will tell?"

"If you've got a bigger dick? Do you think he's going to check?"

And then Timmi laughed. A soft, high pitched tinkle I hadn't really heard from him before. It sounded a bit- Well, it sounded a bit girly. Not forced. Just a little effeminate.

"I meant with our running. If our muscles are boosted by the whatever-drug?"

"Oh. Uh, I dunno. I'm sleepy Timmi. G'night."

"'Night Bro. Have good dreams, alright?"

"Yeah. You too."

There was another period of silence, and Timmi's breathing eased down. This time, I felt sure that my brother was asleep so I started stroking my cock once more. Slowly, as quietly as I could, but stroking nonetheless. I rolled toward the wall beside me and it gave me more space to grab and stroke my cock. I could feel this, I don't know, this kind of itch in my ass. Not that it was dirty, or I felt the - you know- need to go. It was like the same kind of itch I'd felt earlier on in the shower.

By this point I was incredibly hot and horny. I could feel the sweat beginning to bead on my forehead, and feel the stickiness around the shaft of my cock as I pumped up and down on it. With little stars popping in my head, I realised I'd got to a point where there was no way I could stop. I could feel the cum welling up deep in my balls and eager to be released.

It was at that moment; that panic moment when I knew that I was going to cum and had to do something to hide the fact, that the third most extraordinary thing happened to me that evening. I held my hand over my cock and felt the joyous pulse as I shot my orgasm out of my body. Once, twice, then a dribble. More cum than I would have ever expected having orgasmed not that long ago.

I caught most of it in my hand and, without waiting for the panic-moment to settle, brought my hand up out of the covers and up to my face. I lifted my palm to my mouth and slurped at the little gobbets of cum, licking them off my hand and swallowing them. They were like salted jellies in my mouth, and I didn't mind the taste at all. No sir. Not at all. In fact, I reached down and scooped up whatever was left around my crotch and licked it off my fingers too. It was then that Timmi called out to me.

"Hey bro. You okay?"

There was curiosity, as well as concern, in his voice. It took me a moment to answer him.

"Yeah. Sure. Thought you were sleepy."

"Yeah. But, like, you were tossing around in bed."

"Uh huh."

"Just wanted to see you were good."

"I'm good."

"Sure?"

"Sure."

"Okay. 'night."

"'night."

Oh come on. Be fair. It was about as much conversation as I could muster after having wanked myself and swallowed my own cum.

The next day, I was horny again. It was extraordinary. I jerked off before breakfast (just a quickie; as I was brushing my teeth and had the bathroom to myself for a minute or so), then spent the rest of the day at college trying not to think about it. I seemed to have a greater awareness of the people around me. Found myself at various points during the day staring at Emma Trachem's disproportionately large breasts, or Katie Harper's beautifully moulded ass. I was even staring at Brad Allbeck's overly-stuffed crotch for a while, before snapping out of it. But, the funny thing was, I spent more and more time gazing at my own brother. Staring at him, noticing him like the way I did on the bus back from Dr Daniel's lab. I'm a lucky guy, I thought to myself, if I'm as good looking as him. Which I was of course. Advantage of being identical.

I wondered if he felt the same way about me, and wasn't totally shocked to feel my cock begin to rise at the prospect.



Six weeks ago



Life had fallen into a solid routine during the past two weeks. I jerked off in the morning, jerked off at college, fingered myself in the ass as I showered (when I was alone, of course), and jerked off at night. I didn't always swallow my own cum, but didn't mind at all when I did it. Timmi and I still ran our races at college, and we'd now had three shots of Dr Daniel's Cyto-Fyto-whats-it.

And, the other strange thing, was in noticing how more - I guess the only word for it was - affectionate Timmi and I had become. We had always been close, even for twins, but we now seemed to share an extra affection that meant we hugged each other before going to bed. Nothing sexual. Just a little hug, like sisters would give to each other as a matter of course. Lately, Timmi had given me a little kiss on the cheek as we broke the hug. It was nice. I liked it. In fact, as I thought to myself one evening in that little fugue state before sleep, I wouldn't mind if Timmi and I cuddled up a little more.

In was on the morning after that thought that I found something while Timmi was in the bathroom. I was trying to tidy my side of the room, and dropped a CD case that rolled, side over side, under Timmi's bed. I got down on all fours, still in my boxer shorts, in reached under to get it. But my hand didn't find the CD. What it found was something long, cylindrical and ribbed. Frowning, I pulled it out. I stared at it for a long moment, gazing at the pink vibrator as though it were something from the mothership sent down to earth.

Then, in an almost involuntary gesture, I brought it up to my mouth and closed my lips over it. I sank my mouth over the pink vibro and rolled my tongue around the tip, pushing it in to let it fill my mouth. I pulled it out in a hurry, as though I'd just burned myself. OhMyGod! I'd just sucked Timmi's vibrator! I'd just put in my mouth what Timmi must have put up his....

Again, as involuntary as though I were a puppet on a string, I tugged my boxers to one side, and reached back with the saliva-slick vibrator and let the tip find my asshole. I rubbed the plastic tip against my soft anus, and then pushed it slowly in. When it had slid a few inches up my tube, I felt back along its ribbed length and twisted the cap at the end, firing up the battery power. The vibrator buzzed low and deep, and I caught myself drawing in a sharp breath. Oh, sweet Jesus, it felt good! No wonder Timmi had kept it to himself.

I fucked myself with the vibrator as I knelt on all fours next to my brother's bed, closing my eyes to the wonderful rushing orgasm I could feel coming on.

It was just about at that point that I heard Timmi calling out to our mom from the hallway outside. I whipped out the vibrator, threw it under Timmi's bed, and got up, just in time. Timmi asked me if I was all right, and I said I felt a bit peaky. I said I was going to have a quick shower and noticed, way, way too late, that I had left a tiny puddle of cum on the floor next to my brother's bed.

I went out, showered quickly (with that horrible feeling of guilt and apprehension blended into one - the 'Oh Jeez, I've just been caught!' syndrome).

When I got back to the room, Timmi had gone down for breakfast, and the little puddle of cum had disappeared. I breathed a mental sigh of relief. Timmi must have trodden it into the carpet, or cleaned it up by accident. I made a mental note to clean the floor later on anyway, just in case.

I dressed, then went downstairs for breakfast. As I wandered into the kitchen, I saw Timmi nibbling at a piece of toast. He looked up at me and smiled broadly, waggling a few fingers in salute with his free hand. I smiled back, and we held the eye contact for a moment. Not too long, but enough to register each other's smile and be pleased by it.

'Timmi looks really good.' I remember thinking to myself, then wondering what I meant by that. His eyes were a little dark around the edges, but they looked bright enough. His lips looked a little brighter too, like he'd still got some of his cranberry juice on them. His hair was different, too. A little more bushed, maybe. Styled more with hairspray or something and brushed backwards to show it off more. Of mom, there was no sign. Timmi must have picked up on this from the look on my face.

"Mom's gone to work already." he explained, adding "Made you some toast."

I sat down at the table opposite Timmi and picked two pieces from the plate in the middle.

"Ah Bro. You are an angel!" I said, feeling the hunger in my belly. I flicked a glance up at him across the table and caught him looking back, smiling again. I poured a little honey onto the toast, and looked up at Timmi once more, then again.

"Are you-?" I began, then stopped. We flicked eye contact at each other again, and I drew a short breath.

"Are you, uh, wearing, like, make-up?" I said, feeling the tightness in my voice. Timmi looked down for a moment, then back up at me through those long, dark lashes. He smiled shyly.

"You like it? I think it looks okay."

I stared at him a little harder, noticing the darkness around his eyes not as shadows from the light above, or areas of tiredness, but as eyeliner and a little eye shadow. Not much, but a little. I looked at his mouth too, and saw that it wasn't cranberry juice framing his lips, but some kind of light lipstick. Timmi caught me staring and looked down, dropping his half-nibbled toast.

"You don't like it, do you?" He said. I could feel the disappointment in his voice, and held a hand up quickly to stave it off.

"No, no. It's not that bro. It's just I, uh. I should've noticed it straight away. It looks good. It suits you."

This seemed to mollify him a little, and a tiny smile crept onto his lips. He looked up again shyly; through those dark lashes. "You really think so?" he asked me. I nodded, more sure of my own answer.

"Yeah. It looks good. You look- You look-" I struggled for the right word, then found it. "You look really pretty." I said.

This seemed to be the jackpot word. Timmi looked up at me and smiled broadly. 

"I do?"

"Yeah," I said, more sure of it. "You look real pretty."

Timmi got up from the table, walked around the my side and bent down beside me. 

"Thanks." he said, then leaned over and kissed me softly on the cheek. He held his lips against my skin for a moment, pausing momentarily to see if I flinched, then pressed them against me once more before moving away.

Timmi and I had given over to kissing each other's cheek before bed recently, but this felt somehow a little different. I could feel the lipstick mark on my cheek where my brother had kissed me, and I felt that lingering sensation before he pulled away. Down below, my cock was pressing up against my shorts again and, in all honestly, I wasn't surprised in the least.

That same day was a bitch as college. I got bawled out by Mr Anderson for not completing an assignment, and nearly fell out with my old buddy Mitch Ruben over something as silly as a sports water bottle I'd lent him some time ago. I'd realised that the bottle was, in fact, my brother's, and had got overly protective of it. Not sure why.

I didn't see Timmi until late afternoon, when we caught the bus home. It was busy that day, and the bus was crowded. I was holding onto one of the uprights, but the press of people was squashing my back up against Timmi. We didn't say anything. Not anything at all, but I could feel his fingers close to mine on the upright and, more importantly, I could feel his body behind me. Specifically, and I felt pretty sure about this, I could feel his crotch rub up against the side of my ass. Two odd things about that. The first thing was that as I began to be aware of it, I also noticed that odd, erotic itch in my ass. That, I could ignore. What I couldn't ignore was the unmistakable feeling that Timmi's cock was - yes indeed - was getting hard against me. Like I said, we didn't say anything at all.

Mom had cooked an early meal, then left to go to one of her Liberation Circle meetings, leaving the house to me and Timmi. We ate, finished up our chores, then Timmi grabbed my hand excitedly. There was a twinkle in his eye, accentuated by the make-up he'd put on that morning.

"Got something to show you, bro." he said. "Come on!"

Keeping hold of my hand (lacing his fingers between mine), he led me up the stairs to our bedroom. But, at the top he stopped, as though he'd changed his mind. He turned to me, a serious look in his eye.

"Bro, will you wait here for one minute?" he said. "Just one minute?"

I shrugged, nodded my head. Timmi stepped into our room and closed the door. I strained my ears to listen, but couldn't hear any banging around or movement. After a minute or two, Timmi called out.

"Okay, bro. Come on in!"

I set my hand to the door knob and let myself in. 

Okay. Think of this as one of those movie-scene slo-mo's. I certainly do. A movie scene slo-mo is done for an effect, right? Like when the pretty girl is about to walk in to the one room where the evil slasher (who turns out to be her best friend, or something) is waiting. Or when the husband returns home early from work to find his wife in bed with her boss. Or something. It's supposed to be a memorable scene, and the pace of the movie slows down so that you can remember it well after the film has finished. Or go back to it and watch it again. Well, this was like one of those moments. Only for me, I could only pause and rewind it in my head.

I kept my eyes fixed to the ground as the door opened inwards and I walked through. The lights were on, and I remember seeing the usual mess on the floor beside my side of the bed. As I walked in, feeling the door close behind me, I raised my eyes up and saw - firstly - Timmi's feet. I noticed straight away that he had painted his toenails a dark color; black or something like it. Then I noticed that he had adopted a model's dropped-hip pose with his right knee bent slightly and coving the left. Then I saw the frill. The pink frill of the panties he was wearing instead of shorts. I looked up further, taking in his washboard abs framed by a similarly lacy pink top that covered his chest. He had his arms raised by behind his head, pushing his hair up behind him and was grinning in a sultry way as I stared open-mouthed at him.

He really did look very pretty.

We stared at each other for a few moments. Me; open mouthed, Timmi with that grin that was almost turning into a giggle. He changed his pose, swapping his dropped hip to show off both legs, and running his hands down the sides of his pink top.

"Do you like it?" he said, grinning at me through those lipstick-painted lips. I nodded, unable to articulate that tricky word 'Yes'.

Timmi twirled like he was on a catwalk, showing me how the lacy panties covered his ass.

"Does it look okay, Bro? Come on, say something!"

"It, uh. It, uh, looks real pretty Timmi." I managed. My brother's stance drooped.

"Haven't you got another word to use?" he said, sounding miffed.

"Well, uh. It's a bit of a surprise really." I managed.

"Yah. That's obvious." He replied.

"I mean, you look real good, Bro. I mean, you look really sexy in that get up, with the make-up and all."

Timmi grinned, eyes twinkling. "Sexy is good." He said. He posed again, facing me again. "And, yes; I can definitely see you're enjoying it!"

He pointed to my crotch where my cock - against all common sense - was posing like a tent pole against the front of my trousers.

"Jeez, Timmi! Stop staring will ya?" I said, reverting to a four year old and trying to hide myself. But, in truth, I couldn't deny it. My brother was looking really hot in that pink outfit with his make-up on. He'd got real good at putting it on in almost no time at all. Must have been a natural at it.

"So, ah," I began, trying to change the subject away from the object of my shorts-tightened discomfort, "how do you, ah, manage to, ah, hide it? You know."

Timmi took a wide-leg stance and put a hand to his crotch.

"Mr Weasel? I got him taped right up down there."

"Jeez. Isn't that a bit uncomfortable?"

Timmi winced slightly, like I'd hit upon the one snag in his argument, been the first drop of rain on his parade.

"Yah, it's a little, you know, tight. But it looks good, right?" He said the last bit smiling again, stroking the enforced smoothness of his crotch and showing off his new panties. I have to admit, my own cock was straining at the breach and, if Timmi had bent over there and then, with a come-fuck-me finger drawing me toward him, I would have popped his anal cherry in a flash. But he didn't. Our fraternal integrity was, at that moment, saved - for the time being - by the bell.

Timmi grabbed the phone on the second ring and held it to his ear.

"Hello? Yeah? Uh huh? Yeah, this is her number. My name's Timothy. I'm her eldest son." He looked at me, winked at the mention of 'eldest', and returned to the call. It looked like it was going to be a long one, and Timmi sat down on the bed (adopting what I can only describe as a very feminine pose). I took this as my cue, left the room and went down the hallway to the bathroom, where I shut myself in and wanked furiously for about forty seconds until I came. That was all it took. About forty seconds. I must have been really hot to trot.

I cleaned myself, went to leave, stopped and undressed, deciding to have a shower. I turned the temperature down low, but still found myself soaping myself up the ass with my middle finger.

When I got out, Timmi was still in our room, but had put on a sloppy t-shirt and some jogging pants. He was lying tummy down on the bed sorting through a box of make up.

"Hey" I said, walking in. "Just had a shower."

"Uh huh." said Timmi, selecting a mascara tube then putting it back. I flopped onto my own bed and took a second glance at the box of cosmetics Timmi had.

"Hey, are those mom's things?" I said. Timmi smiled a little, but didn't turn to look at me.

"Silly. Mom doesn't wear make up. And anyway, the stuff she has is about a hundred years old. 

I got this myself."

"Wait a minute. How did you pay for th- Tim, did you use the money we've been saving up?" There was a confrontational tone in my voice, and it wasn't lost on Timmi. He pouted.

"Only a little. We're getting thousands of dollars from Dr Daniels. Surely we can spend some of it, right? And I- I don't know. I kind of had to get this stuff. Its like, been in my head all the time."

He looked up at me as he lay on his bed and fluttered his eyelids. "And you did say I looked pretty."




Inside Track Pt. 01



"You do Timmi. But how much have you spent? I mean, the whole point of us doing this damn science thing was to-"

"Hush! Hush." Timmi said, getting up to sit on the side of the bed. "You're getting all worked up, Bro. Come here. Let me show you something."

Reluctantly, slowly (and probably with one of those trademark Jones scowls on my face), I stood up and went over to Timmi's bed. He patted the sheets beside him and I sat down. He selected a tube of lipstick from the box of cosmetics and held it up to me.

"This," he said, with exaggerated care, like it was very important for me to remember it, "is Midnite Ochre. It's just about the darkest red lipstick you can get. Very goth." He dropped it back into the box and picked up another one. 

"This," he continued, twirling the tube in his fingers, "is Dusk's Kiss. It's a kind of pastel red, shat shimmers light and dark. It's beautiful. My favourite." To add to the effect, he pouted and blew me a kiss.

"And this," he said, picking up a third tube, "is Pink Sunrise. It's, like, a bit 80's but great for being all pink and fluffy."

He dropped that back into the box and pouted at me.

"Three little tubes of cosmetics. Just three little tubes costing a few dollars each. But," he held up a finger as if to accentuate the point, "each one of them can turn me into a different person. If I'm wearing the stuff I've got on now - the pink frilly stuff - I can wear Pink Sunrise and feel, I don't know. Can feel all teenage and girly."

I was about to add in with a 'har har' voice that he already was pink and girly, but managed to stop myself.

"But if I wore my Dusk's Kiss, I can dress up a little more. And if I wore the Midnite Ochre, I can put on a leather miniskirt, pvc top or whatever and be a super-vamp. Do you see? Each of these little tubes is another person for me."

He was clearly trying to get a profound point across to me, and thought I couldn't get it, so picked up a tube and held it up.

"Midnite Ochre." He said, with exaggerated care. He took off the top and twirled the lipstick out of the case. "Pucker up." 

I looked at him, then realised what he wanted to do.

"Hey, hey! I don't want that gunk on my f-"

"Pucker up, dickweed. It's not gonna hurt you or anything. I'm trying to prove a point."

I quietened down and sat still (secretly intrigued to see how it felt having the sticky cosmetic on my lips). Timmi laced his hair behind his ears and sat facing me, serious and businesslike. Using one hand to lightly hold my chin, he reached forward and drew the lipstick over my lips.

"Open a little" he said, and I complied. He brushed the lipstick over my lips gently, then sat back. 

"Now do this" he said, pressing his own lips together. I copied him then fell silent. Timmi stared at me for a long while, then grinned. He turned - only for a moment - and fished out a small mirror from his cosmetics bag. He held it in front of my face and I looked at myself, seeing the dark, dark red lipstick framing my own mouth.

"See" he said, lowering the mirror and leaning in to me. "You can look pretty too."

He leaned in further and kissed me on the lips. I felt the squash of his lips against mine as his Dusk's Kiss met my Midnite Ochre. I closed my eyes as my brother kissed me.

It was another slo-mo moment.



Inside Track Pt. 02



[Previously: Timmi and Clay, two twin brothers at college in Miami, have undertaken to be guinea pigs in some research conducted on muscle stimulation. But there are side-effects to this study, and one of the more powerful ones has been to increase the twins' libido, and make them more aware of each other's sexuality]

Five weeks ago



Finally, I had caught Timmi fucking himself!

It had become almost a game, especially over the last week or so, since our most recent injection from Dr Daniels. Timmi knew that his vibrator had been moved from place to place, and had probably guessed that it wasn't mom doing the removals.  And as for me, I knew that if Timmi was feeling anything like I was, he was feeling horny all the time these days. If he was feeling as horny as me, he was jerking off in the morning, screwing his ass during breaks at college, jerking off at lunchtime, screwing his ass in the afternoon and taking a long, leisurely ass-fuck/jerk-off in the evening.

We both suspected what the other was up to, but neither had caught the brother in the act of doing it. Until earlier this morning, when I'd gone to the bathroom, but come back to the bedroom we shared having forgotten to take my clean boxer shorts with me.

I had left Timmi on his bed, sitting up with his pink panties on, rummaging in his cosmetics box to put on his make up. He put on make up every day now. Sometimes subtle (like, during the day at college), sometimes more flamboyant (in the evenings, when he would dress up in other girls' clothes). He and I had shared a few laughs with his make-up, and I had worn it now and again, but not with the same fluency or urgency Timmi did. And, Holy Macaroni, did he look pretty when he wore it. 

So, anyway, I had gone back to the bedroom and walked in without knocking (like I always did). There was that moment of disconnect as I saw Timmi fumbling with his dick in his hand. He was sitting right on the edge of the bed; his long, slim legs spread wide and his erect cock standing up for me to see.

"I, uh- Ah, sorry Timmi. I just needed to get my boxers." I said, feeling a little red around the cheeks as I caught my brother in the act of jerking off. Timmi smiled shyly at me, biting his lower lip as he knew he'd been rumbled. He didn't say anything. But, by the same respect, he didn't take his hand off his hard cock either. He just sat there, legs spread, on the edge of his bed. I took my boxers and went to the bathroom, feeling somehow embarrassed.

I thought about that little incident all day at college. Like it wasn't enough that I was checking out all the guy's asses at school, even without thinking it. I still looked at girls, sure, but somehow, that little erotic itch in my ass had me turning my head to look at other guy's asses. Ashamedly, I caught myself staring sometimes for long moments at my brother's ass; looking at the gentle curve of his ass cheeks as he walked; marvelling at the tightness of his cheeks and slimness of his hips, wondering if mine looked as good as his.

So, it was kind of a relief in the evening when mom made us an ordinary dinner and Timmi and I argued about football. Clearly, I said, the Dolphins were going to make the playoffs. Timmi had thought not, then got onto his hobby-horse about how 'stoopid' football was.  We didn't argue a lot, even before we took Dr Daniel's injections, but it really felt like a petty lover's tiff more than a guy-guy argument. 

Anyway, it was bizarrely refreshing to think about my brother being an asshole, rather than thinking about his asshole.

Mom went off to one of her Liberation Circle meetings, leaving Timmi and I to do our chores. We did so, scowling or pouting at each other. At one point, Timmi actually poked out his tongue through Dusk's Kiss lips! He hadn't poked his tongue at me since we were, like, four.

He took off, saying he needed a shower. I pretty much knew what he was going to do, but was still a little annoyed and waved him off. Fine. Go then. Have your (jerk-off) shower.

I sat down to watch some tv and, within a short while, heard the hiss of the boiler kick in as the jet stream from the shower demanded more hot water. That went on for a few minutes, then stopped. There was a pause, then an almighty crash. I heard Timmi cry out, and was up, running up the stairs before I could even think straight. 

I crashed through the bathroom door to see Timmi lying naked on the floor, holding his side. I rushed in to him and collapsed on the floor beside him, pulling my brother into my arms and holding him.

"Tim! Timmi, are you okay?" I said, hearing the crack in my voice as I wrapped my arms around him. I felt Timmi stiffen a little, then settle in to me. My God. I had just been arguing with my brother and there he was; hurt. If it had been worse, if he had been really injured, he would have thought that I didn't care for him. He would have thought that I was still angry and didn't love him as much as I did. He would have-

I pushed the thought away and held on to Timmi, gripping him tightly in my embrace.

"I'm okay, I'm okay" he said, his voice small but even. He disentangle himself from my embrace, then winced as he turned to sit up, his back against the side of the bath. I rocked back on my heels, feeling tears sting my cheeks. I wiped them roughly with the cuff of my now-wet running top. Timmi looked at me and smiled.

"Hey" he said, reaching out to touch my face with his hand. "It's okay. It's okay. I just slipped and fell, is all. Just a bump on my ass. I'm okay."

"Jesus, Timmi!" I said, holding onto his hand as he held it against my face. "I thought something really bad had happened. I thought you had-"

I couldn't finish the sentence I was going to say as the words chocked in my throat. Timmi leaned forward and pulled me into an embrace. I felt his long, soft fingers at the back of my neck, lightly stroking and massaging my skin. His breath, and his voice was at my ear, shh-ing me, and telling me he was okay, that I shouldn't be so upset. He kissed my neck, just below my ear, and hugged me again. We sat like that for a moment, until I let the emotion pass. Timmi pulled away from me a little, and smiled at me. 

"I'm fine, really." He said. "But thank you for coming to rescue me. My hero." He added, leaning forward.

He kissed me, lightly, on the lips; still smiling. His soft lips pressed against mine and I felt an immediate thud in my chest as we kissed. He held back, then kissed me again, this tie angling his head a little so he could kiss me more effectively. He broke off again, tilted his head the other way and kissed me a third time; slowly, ever so slowly, his lips smacking against mine as he eventually pulled away. It was incredibly sensuous and erotic. My ass was itching like crazy, and I knew that my cock was bulging in my shorts.

I looked down, momentarily, and that seemed to break the spell. Timmi looked down too, then up, a shy, half-grin on his pretty lips.

"Go on; get out of here." he said.  "I'm fine."

I frowned, unsure if I could trust him after the accident, but he jerked his head toward the door.

"Go on. I'm fine. Break out a couple of beers, Clay. I wont be long."

I got up, reluctantly, and headed for the door. There was no mistaking the look in Timmi's eye as he glared at the bulge in my shorts. It was a hungry look. 

"Let me see you can get up alright." I said, pausing by the door. Timmi rolled his eyes, but reached for the side of the bath to haul himself up. He stood, naked and lithe; still wet from the shower, holding a hand against his right hip. His gorgeous cock; seven inches of undeniable lust, stood out 90 degrees from his crotch.

"There. See? Nothing wrong with me." He twirled, showing his back to me, and I let my eyes travel down his back to the tight ass cheeks I'd checked out earlier that day. I made sure he knew I was staring intently at him.

"Okay" I said eventually, turning the door handle and letting some of the hot, steamy air rush out of the room, "Just- just take care, alright? I'll get some beers."

I left the bathroom and closed the door behind me, taking a few deep breaths as the image of my brother's naked body; his washboard abs, his dark round nipples, his hard, proud dick, his long, lithe legs and his tight clenched ass all swirling in my head. I went down and cracked open a very cold beer. Drank it a little too quickly. 

Then had another.



******



Later that evening, when Timmi and I were ready for bed, Timmi clinked on the top of my beer bottle with the top of his and asked me if I would do him a favour.

"Sure." I said, eager to let him know our little bust-up was ancient history. "What is it?"

"I'll show you upstairs" he said, with a wink and that little half-smile on his pretty lips. Setting down his beer, her got up and held out his hand.

"Come on, lazy bones."

I took his hand to help me up and kept hold of it, lacing my fingers through his. He led me upstairs to our bedroom and I felt a deep longing sensation to grab myself and jerk off. I'd been getting used to these strong urges over the last couple of weeks, and had come to a kind of arrangement with my body; I would see to its sexual needs as long as it stopped reminding me of them every darn minute. I couldn't believe how horny I was getting, and how regularly.  My cock would stiffen at the slightest thing, and my balls had turned into two industrial sperm factories.

Timmi took us in to our room and flopped down onto his bed, laying face-up, not saying anything for a few moments. I sat on my own bed, watching him while he gathered his thoughts. His cheeks were a little flushed from the alcohol we'd been drinking, and his eyes and a sparkle and twinkle that made them shine. He pursed his lips as though to say something, parted them a little, then closed them. His hand, I noticed, had unconsciously drifted toward his crotch, and rested there. I watched his fingers dancing lightly on the soft cotton of his jogging pants. It was almost mesmeric.

When he did speak, it was almost a shock; breaking my reverie.

"My side hurts a bit."

He sounded distracted, as though he'd said it for the sake of breaking the silence.

"Do you, ah, need to go to the hospital, Timmi? I could run you down there in mom's car. I could-"

He waved me off. "Nah. It just hurts a little, is all."

There was another little pause as my brother pursed his lips once more.

"um, actually Clay, I was wondering if you could do something for me."

"Yah, doofus. You said that already. So what is it?"

Timmi sat up, alert. He sat right on the edge of the bed with his knees spread wide apart.

"How good are you with a razor?" he asked. I frowned. Razors, you have to understand, are a little bit in foreign territory for the Jones brothers. Both Timmi and I were naturally quite smooth kind of guys. Sure, we had long hair on our heads, tufts under our armpits and a little thatch 'down below', but other than that, the world of the hirsute had failed to latch on to our genes. Even our arms and legs were only covered in a very fine covering of hair.

"This isn't, like, for setting up lines of coke or something, is it?" I said, my frown deepening. Timmi giggled softly and smiled at me.

"No no, silly. Nothing like that. It's just, I've tried using it myself, but I'm all at the wrong angle."

As if to accentuate the point (or reading the confusion in my face), Timmi pointed 'down below' at his crotch.

"I wanted it smooth, but can't shave it properly. Could you do it for me?"

The request was innocent enough, and explained. And my immediate response - my automatic response - would have been 'yeah, sure.' But something stopped me. Maybe it was the thought of being so close to my brother's dick, of actually touching him between his legs and breathing in his sex, that gave me pause. Timmi must have seen me open and close my mouth in indecision. His face fell and it was that; that prospect of disappointing him, that propelled me off my bed towards his.

"Yeah, sure. Why not?"

Timmi's face lit up once more and I saw him reach down below his bed to grab his box of cosmetics. He had more than one box now; had added several more lipsticks and blushers, eye-shadow colours and mascaras. He had concealers and facial scrubs and all sorts of cosmetics. His 'other' clothes drawer was getting bigger too. I'd seen him wearing a range of girls' clothes, and look good in all of them. But he reached into one box and brought out a disposable razor, a small aerosol spray can and then, reaching across to the bedside cabinet, plucked off a few tissues. Putting them beside him on the bed, he stood up and hooked his thumbs into the waist of his jogging pants. He paused for a moment, just at the point of pulling down his shorts, and looked up at me.

"You sure you're okay with this?" he said. I shrugged, trying to look nonchalant.

"Sure. I'll try not to slash you to bits."

Timmi looked at me for a second with a concerned look on his face, then softened and smiled. He half turned away from me and pulled down his pants. I couldn't help staring at him as he wriggled the garment down past his hips and legs. He stepped out of his pants, naked from the waist down, and sat on the edge of his bed once more. His dick and balls were, I noticed, quite limp. Even so, they were all of impressive size. His dick, just like mine (just exactly like mine, don't forget), was quite thick already, and the foreskin was half-peeled from the purple head without any help or direction. His balls hung heavy and low between his legs; like twin pendulums hanging over the edge of his bed. He picked up the razor and the little aerosol can.

"Okay then. Let's do this."

I licked my lips, trying to focus and stay concentrated. I knelt down in front of Timmi, between his spread knees and looked up at his smiling face. My ass was itching like crazy, and I knew my dick had sprung into life already, even if my twin brother's had not. The slight, but intoxicating smell of his sex was filling my nostrils and having a definite effect on me. I had an almost uncontrollable urge to lean forward and take his dick in my mouth, gorge myself on that soft, hot flesh. I was glad of the 'almost' part that managed, somehow, to stop me from doing that.

I took the can and razor from Timmi as he explained what he wanted me to do.

"Okay, Bro. You can see I've already had a go on the sides-"

I looked, saw that his skin beside his dick was, indeed, quite well shaven.

"-but couldn't go any lower."

As if to accentuate the point, Timmi reached down and grabbed his dick, pulling it up and away from me, exposing his scrotum.

"See there? Can you get that shaved?"

"I'll, uh. I'll give it a go." I said, aware of how small and pathetic my voice sounded.

"Just spray some of the soap-water on it first, okay? Hurts like a bitch when it's dry."

"Uh huh."

I took the can and sprayed some of the soap-water onto my brother's crotch. Timmi, in an effort to relax, had lain back on his bed, still clutching his limp cock in a protective way. Holding the razor in my good left hand, I licked my lips, reached out with my right and touched my twin brother's balls. 

I don't know what Timmi felt, but I felt a kind of electric pulse run through me as I made contact with his scrotal skin. I nearly pulled my fingers away reflexively, but didn't. Gingerly, like it was some slumbering wild animal, I pushed Timmi's heavy ball to one side and brought the razor up to his skin. 

My first few razor-scrapes were very hesitant but, after I got over the whole weirdness of shaving my brother's balls, I started to concentrate more. I smoothed out his skin where I shaved it, pressing my right hand against his crotch to steady my left. Within a few minutes, I had shaved the right side of his crotch - scrotum and all - into a smoothness he hadn't had since he was about eight years old. I shifted position on the floor to do the left side, and heard Timmi groan. 

"You okay, Bro?" I said, alarm in my voice. Timmi cleared his throat, but stayed lying back.

"Uh, yuh. I'm okay. Just, uh, just be careful down there, okay?"

"No problems."

I sprayed his crotch again, and set to work on his left side, not even pausing now to hold and shift his heavy balls with my hand. I had nearly finished. Had nearly done it when I felt Timmi jump and heard him yelp. I looked up, in alarm, then back down to his crotch to see that I'd nicked him with the razor. A tiny bead of blood was welling up from the area where his scrotum attached to his crotch.

"Oh Jeez! Oh God, Timmi, are you okay?"

I heard Timmi curse under his breath, but he stayed where he was, then barked a short, girlish laugh.

"Ouch. Is that your way of getting back at me, Bro?" He said.

I felt wretched, and wanted to give him a hug to tell him I was sorry, and to let him know it was alright. I looked carefully at the little cut I had made, then wiped at it gently with one of the tissues. 

"It looks okay," I said. "Just a small nick."

And then, entirely on impulse, I leaned forward and kissed it better. As my lips made contact against the skin of his crotch, his heavy balls against the side of my face, the heat of his thigh against my shoulder, I felt another one of those dangerous erotic pulses. I kissed it again, then once more to make sure.

"Kissing it better?" Timmi asked, his voice high and tight.

"Mm-hmm" I said, pressing my lips to his skin once again.

"M-make sure you guh-get all of it." he said.

Taking his cue, I kissed all around the little wound, trying to make it all better with the power of my lips. It was as I was doing this that I realised I was kissing the rounded edge of one of his balls. I kissed it again, and again then, because it seemed entirely the most natural thing to do, I opened my mouth and sucked his ball into my mouth, holding it there.

"Jeee-eeezus!" Timmi whispered. I could feel his body shuddering a little as he lay on the bed, feeling me take one of his balls into my mouth. I held it between my lips, running my tongue over and over the razor-smooth skin, feeling and tasting the hot flesh underneath the loose skin. I closed my eyes to the sensation, puckering my cheeks a little as I began to suck gently. I must have done this for a minute or so before I felt Timmi's finger-painted hand rest onto the top of my head and begin to massage my hair. 

I rolled my tongue over his well-sucked ball one more time then let it pop out. Without speaking (without thinking really, I was on instinct by that point), I lifted my head a little, mouth still open, and drew my tongue up the base of his cock. Nudging the fingers of his other hand with my nose, Timmi released his hold on his now fully enlarged dick. As he let it go, I could smell the sex oozing off him; like a perfume reacting directly and massively on my hormones and sex drive. My tongue travelled the full 7 inch length before rasping against the soft, purple skin at the top. Eyes still closed, mouth still open, I bent my head over him and enclosed my mouth over my brother's dick.

Well. Let me tell you. It felt hot. Heavenly hot, and as rock solid as a pipe of lead. I tasted him as far as my mouth would go; revelling in the salty texture of his purple helmet, and the more rough, hair-edged skin that drew back puckered over his shaft. Timmi had twined his fingers in my hair and was moaning softly, calling out my name, adding the word "baby" now and again. I kind of liked it.

I reached down on him with my mouth, careful to keep my teeth away and letting his cock ride up between my lips, rubbing against the roof of my mouth as it sank in.  I shifted a little on the bed, moving myself up so I could reach right over him. With my head bent directly over his freshly-shaven crotch, I held the base of his cock with my hand and lowered my head onto it. I wanted to deep-throat him; wanted to feel that hot, thick shaft as far inside my mouth as possible; filling me up with his sex.




Inside Track Pt. 02



I sank my head lower, widening my jaw as much as possible so as not to accidentally bite him. I felt the soft, thick tip brush against the back of my mouth and fought the automatic gag reflex to let in further. I had studied the gag reflex some time ago.  Well, when I say 'studied', I mean I'd read about it in a magazine or something. I remember that if you can fight the initial urge, you could almost ingest something safely. Or something like that. That's what I wanted to do with Timmi's cock. I wanted the eat him as much as I could deep in my throat. I sank lower and lower, until I could feel that huge, awful swelling in the back of my throat at my brother's thick, erect cock filled every conceivable space.  At last, I felt my lips press down on his skin as I took the full length of his dick in my mouth. By this point, Timmi had both of his hands gripped in my hair. I could tell from the way he was murmuring that he was looking down the length of his body; watching below his washboard abs how his twin brother was deep-throating his cock. It must have been a pretty sight.

I held it there for a moment, still fighting that gag urge, then slowly began to release it. When his cock was only a few inches inside my mouth, I began to suck more vigorously; pressing my tongue against his member as my saliva dribbled all the way down his shaft.  I was keenly aware of that erotic itch in my ass and knew exactly at that point what I was going to do about it.  Timmi was calling my name over and over again, tossing his head this way and that. I didn't know how close he was to cumming, but I wasn't going to wait any longer. I had my own cherry to pop.

I released his cock and, still saying nothing, clambered up onto the bed and straddled him.

"Clay, what are you-?" Timmi began, but his query was both half-hearted and slightly moot.  I think he knew what I was doing. Holding his thick dick in my hand, I spread my legs over his crotch and settled myself until I could feel the top of his slick, wet cock pressing up against my asshole. Needless to say that my own rod was as thick and straight as I'd ever seen it. I could feel Timmi's hands on my thighs; massaging them gently with his delicate fingers.

"Clay are you sure you want to-"

And then he caught his breath as I sank my ass down over his cock. By gosh it was an incredible feeling. I was ready for that slight feeling of discomfort; that sense of something going the wrong way, having fucked myself with Timmi's pink vibrator many times over the past few weeks. Timmi's cock was quite a bit bigger than the vibrator but, hard as it was, it was still able to mould and squeeze into my tight tube. I sat down slowly on my brother's cock, letting it fill up my ass as it had filled up my throat a few moments earlier. When I had sat fully onto him; feeling the hairs at the top of his crotch tickle my skin, I rested for a moment, then began to rock backwards and forward, feeling his shaft ride up inside me. Timmi had released his hold on my thigh and had gripped the shaft of my cock either for balance or just for pure pleasure. I felt my cock jump a little as he touched me, and was aware how close I was to orgasm. I bent myself over him a little more, dropping to a doggy-position with my hands braced on the bed either side of his head. 

"Fuck me Timmi, fuck me!" I breathed, the first words since apologising for cutting his scrotum.

Timmi duly obliged me and, with his better position, began to fuck his cock in and out of my asshole with greater speed and urgency. I could feel him; pumping and filling my ass with his cock, even if the angel wasn't perfect. He kept his hands on my ass cheeks as he pumped me and, pretty soon, I felt his breath begin to go ragged. I knew what was coming. He was.

With two or three final, gigantic thrusts, poling himself up me from tip to base, Timmi shot a considerable wad of cum right up my tube. I sat back, pressing down on his hardness, feeling (actually feeling) the barrelling of his orgasm through his cock and up inside me. I reached up with my arms and dug my fingers into my hair; pushing up on either side with my eyes closed and my mouth slightly open. Timmi grabbed my cock with his hand and started pumping; jerking me off faster and faster. I let myself go to the dual feeling; the press and expanse of my brother's cock up my ass, and the speeding hand-job he was giving me up front. 

I felt a contraction in my stomach, then a little jerk from my hips as I spurted my orgasm all over my brother's body. I opened my eyes and saw a wad of cum fly out of my cock and onto Timmi's chest. With his free hand, Timmi wiped the sticky cum off with his fingers and lifted it up to his mouth where he sucked greedily on the mess of my orgasm.

Feeling a complete and dreadful fatigue, I collapsed onto my brother's body; his softening cock still lodged in my ass. Timmi wrapped his arms around my neck and I buried my face into his shoulder.

"Oh Clay! Oh Clay! Oh my gosh, that was- that was-" but Timmi couldn't finish. I was kissing at his neck and shoulders, tasting the tiny salty beads of perspiration on his skin. I felt his fingers travelling up and down my back; tickling, touching, loving my skin. My eyes felt incredibly heavy. Like I'd just given of all the energy I had. And Timmi's body was warm, his skin soft beneath me, and his hands light and welcoming on my back. He was murmuring my name as I felt my eyelids draw down.

"...'love you too." I managed, before an incredible exhaustion slipped me into sexual oblivion.



*****



We both woke, maybe a few hours later, and clambered under the sheets of Timmi's bed for warmth and comfort. I say on my side and Timmi spooned up behind me. His body was close against mine and his arm pulled me into a loving embrace. He kissed my neck softly, here and here; there and there, and reached down with his hand to my crotch. Incredibly, I was hard again. He shifted behind me and I felt the thick hard stub of his cock against my ass cheeks.

"Wanna do it again?"

"Sure."

It was a long night.



*****

Four weeks ago



It really was, I had to admit, a very pretty skirt.  

It was short, but not too short, reaching to mid-thigh, slightly tasselled at the bottom and pleated in its construction so that the soft tan-coloured material flared out when it wearer twirled a little.  It had some kind of soft inner lining too, so that it felt warm and smooth against the bare thighs it was meant to cover. Added to the (slightly oversized) black high heels, and the little black strappy vest number on top, and the little diamante necklace, it rounded off the complete picture.

"You look really pretty, bro."

I looked again in the mirror, gingerly touching the sticky new lipstick that framed my mouth. Then, smoothing my hands down my sides (and against that soft, tan-coloured material), I apprised the image of myself in the mirror.

Timmi had spent quite a bit of time doing my hair and make up and, I had to admit, with the little curls he'd put into my hair, the dark green eyeshadow and the new 'Bloodred' lipstick, I did look kind of pretty.  My long smooth legs, propped up by the high heels, also looked good in the short skirt he'd bought for me and, given this was the first time I'd really dressed up in girls' clothes, the effect wasn't bad. Wasn't bad at all.

"I'd give myself a second glance." I muttered, trying out a shy smile for the mirror's benefit. Timmi sneaked up behind me and stood close, his arm circling my waist and his hand resting flat against my tummy.

"I'd give you more than a glance" He said, eyeing me hungrily. To be fair, I would too these days.

It was the day after our latest round of injections with Dr Daniels, and was the first time the British doctor raised some reservations about the 'side-effects' he said might occur. He told us that we only had one more week of the trial left, and that he was prepared to give us a number of injections which would dampen down the side effects of cyto-fyto-what-sit.

"Side effects?" Timmi had said, holding my hand as we sat together side by side on the couch in Dr Daniels' waiting area. Dr Daniels had looked nervously at the way we held each other's hands, at our casual affection (even with him. I doubt he's ever been kissed on both cheeks by a pair of identical twins before).  He then got very nervous and asked about our physical activities. Timmi and I both agreed that we felt sharper on the track; had a better endurance (we smiled a little to each other at that remark), and burned off calories quicker than before.

Dr Daniels had nodded and smiled nervously, thanking us for our comments, but said that wasn't quite what he meant. He explained that he was worried the injections were giving Timmi and I an "Inordinate chemical imbalance in our stimuli centres" That meant, like, Greek to us. He then asked if we ever felt a bit more sexually active.

Timmi and I had both giggled at that. Did we feel hornier? I felt horny all the time, I told Dr Daniels. It felt great.  Timmi said that he found even really ugly people - men and women - horny these days. Dr Daniels had sighed a little, overcoming that first awkward barrier. Then he asked if there was anyone in particular who we felt closely attracted to. His eyes dipped to where we held each other's hands.

"Well, of course," said Timmi, exaggerating the last word, "Clayton and I have seen a lot of each other. But then we do share a room."

"We share a lot more than just a room." I added, interrupting. Timmi smiled over at me. "Oh yes. And of course" there was the exaggeration again, this time followed immediately by an exaggerated wink, "Clay and I wouldn't dream of taking advantage of each other's wonderfully attractive bodies, given that there are likely to be numerous state and national laws against that sort of thing."

Dr Daniels broke out into a sweat. He tapped his finger at the bottom of his chin and looked nervously from me to Timmi, then back again.

"Have you two-" he asked, looking like he was on the verge of crying. "Have you two- Dear God."

"He is." said Timmi, sitting forward and pouting. "He is a very dear God. And he loves me, and Timmi."

"And Timmi loves me, and I love Timmi" I added, feeling acutely horny. Dr Daniels turned away from us, rubbing his temples.

"I knew this would happen! I knew this would happen!" He muttered, his voice high and strained.  "Oh, sweet Jesus, I'm going to be locked away for a million years for this. You have to take these other injections!" whirling back to face us, his face flushed and red. He looked kind of cute when he was upset. I asked him if he wanted to sit down with us. The look of horror on his face was enough of a reply.

"Timothy. Clayton. This is very, very important. There was an, ah, well there was a dreadful miscalculation in the original injections we gave to you. It made have had an unnatural effect of the hormonal levels in your bodies. It may have- may have raised them to an unnatural level."

Dr Daniels paced the square metre in front of us as he spoke, trying to inject some authority and confidence into his voice.

"You must - must - take these other injections to put the balance right. You must see that?" he added, as a plea. I saw Timmi frown beside me.

"I don't remember any anti-side effect injections as part of the original contract." He said.  Dr Daniels raised a finger, conceding the point.

"No. No, but there was this awful mistake-"

"Your mistake."

"Yes. Well, no. Not in legal liable terms, I don't think.  I think I don't think, anyway.  But this mistake- it has to be rectified. Can't you see what it's doing to you?"

"It's making us faster, stronger-" I said.

"Sexier." Timmi added. I nodded.

"-Sexier too. Why should it be doing anything wrong?"

Dr Daniels suddenly started to lose his cool. He got down on his knees - he actually got down in front of us on his knees - and clasped his hands together in prayer.

"Please - please don't tell me the two of you have done anything.... improper with each other!"

Timmi didn't answer him, but instead took his hand away from mine and reached over to my crotch. Unzipping me, then slipping his hand beneath my shorts, he began to massage my cock, making it spring to life very quickly.

"The only thing improper" he said, with a certain air of snootiness as he worked my stiffening dick with his hand , "is that we can't sink our dicks into each other's asses at the same time."

Dr Daniel's left eye twitched. Just once. But, good Lord, it was a big twitch.

I smiled at my brother's appraisal of my new look; tan-coloured skirt and all, and placed my hand over the one he'd laid on my tummy.

"Thanks Timmi." I said.  "You've made me look lovely."

"You've always looked lovely" he said, planting a soft kiss onto my neck, where the little curls he'd put into my hair tickled my skin. His hand snaked down from my tummy until it was delving between my legs. I sighed. I knew the unblemished look wouldn't last too long. I closed my eyes as Timmi kissed my neck softly, softly. We were still very careful not to leave visible marks on each other's skin, just in case mom saw them and we'd have a heck of explaining to do. But Timmi's passion was rising, and the strapping on my dick to make it fit within the silken panties he'd put me in was making me very uncomfortable. Still, Timmi rubbed again and again at my crotch, his hand stealing up underneath my skirt to rub the pink silk beneath. I felt my heart flutter once or twice, wondering why it felt so wonderful every time I was with my brother.

Timmi whispered into my ear something extremely filthy, then turned round to face me and dropped to his knees. Ducking underneath my skirt, he peeled off my panties and then took off the strapping keeping my dick in place. Once free, I felt my member spring up into life, only to be caught and trapped first by Timmi's delicate hands, then his warm, wet mouth. I lifted up the hem of my skirt, so that I could watch more closely as Timmi started to work my erect dick in and out of his mouth, pinching his cheeks to suck harder at the swollen tip. 

I had the advantage of the mirror in front of me too, so could see Timmi from behind has he knelt in front of me and sucked me off. He paused for a moment to pull down his jogging pants (keeping my cock enclosed between his lips all the while, I might add. Quite impressive). Then, reaching behind himself as he held onto my balls with his other hand, he started to rub his fingers up against his anus. Watching that; watching Timmi rub and finger his own ass as he sucked me off and tugged at my balls gave me an instant sexual jolt.

I told him as much, and he only tugged harder at my swollen balls, sucked me deeper into his mouth, and mashed his fingers into his own asshole. Given the physical, emotional and visual feast I was being treated to, it wasn't surprising that I felt the first wave, the first pulse of orgasm build within me. Usually (and with a lot more control these days, I have to add), I would fight that urge. But I wanted to cum, and told Timmi so. He didn't let me go, but held me within his mouth and used his tongue on my swollen tip. He had stuffed two fingers into his own poop-hole and, in a few short moments, I could feel the orgasm build to a fast crescendo.

"Oh, oh, Timmi, I'm cumming! I'm Cummiiiiiiiing!"

Whipping his fingers out of his ass to hold the base of my dick, Timmi held me in his mouth as my member jerked and shot first one, then two, then three loads into his throat. Timmi sucked me manfully, swallowing ever drop of my cum and sucking me quickly to squeeze out the last of my juice.  Still keeping my softening dick in his mouth, Timmi began to rub and massage at my bare ass cheeks and, yes - you guessed it - I was ready for some backdoor action almost right away.

"Fuck me, bro!" I breathed, watching him chew tenderly on my cock. "Bend me over and fuck me!"

Like Timmi needed a spoken invitation anyway.

Still on his knees, he released my dick from his mouth and shuffled round behind me where I bent forward and lifted my skirt over my hips. Timmi used his hands to prise my ass cheeks open, then I felt his tongue, slick with my own cum, began to ream me up and down my ass crack. 

Timmi and I were very careful these days, playing with each other's asses. We'd had one or two 'accidents', which neither of us minded much, but wouldn't choose to repeat, so made sure that in the evenings at least, we would be clean for a good fucking. 

Which is exactly what Timmi was giving me now; a good, rear-end tongue-fucking as he lashed his tongue against my asshole. I love being rimmed, I have to tell you. And if I had my way, I'd get rimmed a lot more. I love the hot wet stab of someone's tongue on my poop-hole, the rasping against my soft, puckered skin, and the coolness of the air on my moistened hole. And, of course, with Timmi I enjoyed the prospect of a really good jack-hammering afterwards. Which is exactly what Timmi was working up to.

He had one finger inside me now, dragging down on my asshole so that he could finger me and tongue me at the same time, widening my asshole for what was to come. He told me as much and I felt a thrill ripple through me.

Timmi stood up and, wetting the end of his thick cock with some of his own spit, guided it toward my anus. I felt the hot tip press against my hole, and relaxed as Timmi began to spear me. I held my breath as I felt him inch his dick up my tube, then breathed out as I felt the soft curls of his pubic hair squash against my ass cheeks. He was fully seven inches up inside me, and it felt fucking wonderful.

He held onto my hips with his hands and began to rock back and forward, screwing me with slow and deep intention. Trying to keep my legs apart, and straight at the knee, I bent over as much as I could, grabbing my ankles with both hands and letting Timmi hold me in balance. It allowed me to enjoy to pounding he was giving me without worrying about falling over, and boy was it a good fucking!

He rocked his dick in and out of me for a good five minutes before he too gave in to that tempting urge to let go. He thrust himself into me as he came, holding his dick as far up my ass as possible as he let his cum fly into me. I felt that wonderful barrelling of his cum through his cock and groaned as he spent his orgasm deep within me.

He held himself like that for a few moments, then slowly took his cock out of my ass and helped me up, smoothing down my skirt as he did so. Although exhausted, I still felt sexy wearing the girls' clothes, and Timmi came round to embrace me.

"Love you, gorgeous." He said.

"Love you too, ass fucker." I replied, smiling. I put my arms around his neck, and he slipped his around my waist as we kissed for a long time, me tasting the salty leftover of my own orgasm on his tongue. When, after I felt the first trickle of Timmi's cum begin to escape my ass, I told Timmi and he knelt back down behind me to lap up his own jism.

I looked at my made-up face in the mirror as Timmi slurped up his own cum from my well-fucked ass, and sighed. Life was good.



Inside Track Pt. 03



[Previously: Timmi and Clay, the twin brothers engaged in the muscle stimulant experiment, have finally given in to each other's passions.]

*

Two Weeks Ago

Life was not so good.

I suppose, looking at it from all kinds of angles, it was bound to happen sooner or later. In our case, it happened sooner, I guess. But it didn't make it any easier. Nothing could have made it easier.

Mom caught us. Caught us red handed in the act when she came into our room and saw the two of us lying naked on our sides, me behind Timmi with my sweat-covered dick reaming into his ass. It was an awkward moment.

After several hours' of fire and brimstone from mom's mouth, Timmi and I decided that the best course - the only course of action for us was to leave. We had committed a cardinal sin. Worse than that, we had done it with each other. Like it was something bad. Mom's maternal, feminist, moralist and realist sensibilities would not be assuaged. We had to leave.

But where on earth would we go? We didn't have any uncles or aunts. Had no grandparents we were aware of, and as for our mythical dad - he could have been on the first starship to the Vega system for all we knew. We had a couple of friends at college who we could bunk down with, but not together. And that was something that Timmi and I decided would not happen. We would not be parted from each other. Could not bear the thought of being away from one another; sexually or emotionally.

So it left us with little choice.

We arrived at Dr Daniels' lab a little after seven in the evening with our three small bags (one each of our old stuff, and another one with the girls' clothes, make-up and sex toys). There was no answer. Not totally surprising really, but still disappointing, Timmi grabbed his cell phone and made a few calls. We rang every number Dr Daniels gave us, but got no answer. Then we tried the municipal authorities, saying we needed to contact Dr Daniels, the English scientist, as a matter of urgency. It worked, but only to provide us with numbers for him we already had. Eventually, I hit on an idea.

"Timmi, give me your cell." He did so. I took a deep breath and punched in 911 onto the keypad.

"Emergency Services."

"Hi. I'd like to report some suspicious activity at the Dresner building on Parkway. There's an old guy in a white coat trying to get into the building but it's locked. It probably none of my business, but I though he might be trying to break in."

During this call, Timmi was trying to grab the cellphone off me. I gave the operator some completely false details, then hung up.

"What the frick was that all about?" Timmi said. I smiled, adopting a coy little smile I knew he liked. He wasn't smiling now though.

"Come on" I said, grabbing two of the bags and my brother's hand. I led him over to a café across the street, and picked a table near the window where we could see the Dresner building. I ordered two really big coffees and a couple of BLTs. And sat. And waited.

It took maybe half an hour, but then we say the blue lights flashing near to the corner of the street, and a couple of patrolmen got out and checked around the outside of the building, trying the doors and windows, then shining their flashlights into the interior. They stayed maybe ten minutes, then left. I gave it another ten minutes or so, and another car turned up. This one, we didn't recognise. But when the driver got out and started looking into the windows, I turned to Timmi, my hand under the table squeezing his thigh. 

"See?" I said, smiling. Timmi scowled, then offered me a grudging smile. We picked up our bags and made our way across the street. Dr Daniels didn't recognise us until we were practically on top of him.

"Dr Daniels, hi." I said. He whirled on us, a frightened expression on his face, then looked puzzled as he recognised us.

"Clayton, Timothy." He said, frowning to check we were real.

"What'a up Doc?" Timmi said, unable to help himself. Dr Daniels, if he noticed the dreadful pun, ignored it. He turned to look over again at the building which housed his laboratory.

"Oh, I got a call form the police that someone was trying to break into the building an-"

He turned on us, his brow steepling again. "What are you two doing here? You had your last shot last week. There isn't another scheduled testing session for another four or five days."

Timmi looked at me for direction. I sighed, turning my sad eyes toward Dr Daniels. 

"Dr Daniels" I said, using all the charm I had. "We've gotten into a real tight spot, as they say. We- well, to put it bluntly, we've had to leave home and we have nowhere to stay."

"Well? That's no concern of mine. I sympathise, Clayton, I really do. But I can't help you with accommodation."

"But doctor" said Timmi, biting the corner of his lower lip (something that really turned me on when he was being all cute. Especially when I was up close and reaming him at the time). "Doctor, you've got to help. We're in this because of you. We've been thrown out. Literally nowhere to stay."

"I'm sorry boys. I'm sorry." He said, looking flustered. "I can't help."

"You have to." said Timmi, his voice lowering.

"I can't." said Dr Daniels, matching him. "Besides" He added, brightening at a new thought, "It's not in the contract."

Timmi flicked open his cellphone. "Neither are illegal drugs, Doctor. Shall I call the DEA?"

"Everything in my lab is perfectly legal and checked by the proper authorities." He retorted, stung by the implied accusation.

"Oh yeah?" I said. "Well what about drugs that produce sexual hormonal imbalances?"

He started to sweat. Timmi kept up the pressure.

"Penetrative sex between siblings is, like, illegal with a prison sentence of a billion years." he said, adding, "we couldn't help ourselves. It was the sexual hormonal imbalance."

We stood for a few moments, watching Dr Daniels squirm. We was wracked with indecision. Eventually, I made it easy for him.

"Look," I said. "It's only for a night or two, until we get ourselves somewhere to stay. Please. Help us out."

There was one of those long pauses. Not like a movie slo-mo, but one where you're sitting on the edge of the chair shouting at the movie character to say yes; to go to Africa and start a new life, to jump into his arms and say that you'll marry him, to agree to take on the world's worst baseball team and win the trophy. That kind of thing.

"Oh cripes. Put your bag in the boot."

Timmi and I looked at each other.

"The boot! The- the trunk! Put your things in the trunk."

We smiled at him, put out stuff in the car and got into the back seats. Dr Daniels started grumbling to himself as he drove us into the suburbs, not sparing any time to talk to us. It didn't matter, we were too busy kissing each other to talk. We couldn't help ourselves.

We got to Dr Daniels' place - a little house in the 'burbs which he said he was renting from a fellow scientist who was on a field trip to Austria. He made us some dreadful coffee, drew up a few chicken and salad sandwiches (which were pretty good, I have to admit), and left us to each other's company. He went to bed, hoping we would be gone by the time he got up in the morning.

Fat chance. We had a meal ticket, and were going to milk it for all it was worth. 

Finishing our drinks, Timmi and I put our stuff into the spare room Dr Daniels had pointed out to us, and flopped back on the bed together. We held hands for a while, talking about stuff. Timmi wanted to ring mom; let her know we were okay. But I said that the only call she would expect about us would be from Satan himself, checking with her that we'd arrived safe and sound, and were being shackled to the tree of torture as he spoke. No, I said. We had each other, now and that was that.

"Do we have each other?" He asked me.

"Yeah, course we do. We'll always have each other." I said, meaning every word of it.

"Do you really love me, Clay?"

I turned onto my side, looking down at my brother's identical face. I bent down, kissed him gently on the lips, and said;

"Yeah, I really do."

I let my hand travel down his body until it found the zipper below his belt. I tugged on it, then slipped my hand inside his jeans, covering his mouth with my own. I pulled his dick out from his jeans, gripping and tensing my fingers round his shaft, and hearing him moan lightly into my throat. I pulled his foreskin up and down slowly, bringing him to full hardness, then shuffled down the bed until I was crouched by his hip. Still holding his dick, I bent my head over his crotch and took his hot, thick shaft into my mouth, sucking on the earthy taste of his sex as he relaxed to my ministrations of his passion.

I got to sucking him pretty good, feeling that familiar erotic itch in my ass and knowing how to satisfy it, when the door opened.

"I just wanted to say- Oh Jesus! Dear God!" Dr Daniels covered his mouth, as if he was about to be sick, then stepped out. 

"Will you please fucking well stop that!" he called out, from behind the door. In deference to the fact that we were in the guy's house, I gave Timmi's dick one more kiss then squeezed it back into the denim prison it came from. Then I sat up, cleared my throat, and called out for Dr Daniels to come in. He did so, poking his head gingerly around the doorframe first, to check we weren't still in flagrante. He sighed visibly and stepped into the room.

"Don't ever" he said, closing his eyes against the pain of the word, "ever let me catch you two doing something like that again in here. In this house" he added, qualifying his caveat. Timmi and I nodded: okay. Gotcha. Don't let you catch us.

"I, uh, I wanted to say I was sorry for all the, um, nonsense you guys have been put through. I, uh, I also wanted to check if you were okay and, uh, you know."

"No" said Timmi, sweetly, "whatever do you mean, Dr Daniels?"

"I, uh. Look, I'll get to the point. Clearly there's something very, very wrong about all this- this- behaviour. And, and I just wanted to make sure that you knew it wasn't from my project that this behaviour stems. Alright?"

"So.... So Clay and I were, like, always incestuous gay twins?"

"NO! No, that's not what I meant. What I meant was that the project, if anything, only heightened existing levels of chemical and urges already present in the body."

"Like drugs do?"

"Exactly!" Dr Daniels stopped, checked himself. "Legal drugs!" he added. "Prescription drugs, not illegal ones. Anyway. That's all I wanted to check on."

I sighed. I hated talking round a subject.

"What you mean" I said, "is that you don't want us to think that your drugs turned Timmi and I gay, right?"

"Or turned us into incest monsters." Timmi added. I nodded.

"Well we're not. Not either, to be precise. We both look at pretty girls as much as anything else." Timmi nodded his agreement. 

"And, we're not, like, complete incest monsters. We don't have a thing for our other family members, or kiddies or anything weird."

"We just love our own bodies. And, because we're identical twins, we can't help loving each other's bodies."

"Satisfies something neither of us can explain."

Dr Daniels took this all in with remarkable ease. I suppose, for a scientist like him (especially one trying to find the get-out clause in a horrible looming law-suit), it was a process of rationalization. He nodded, clearly trying to work things through in his head, then stepped out. He ducked back in quickly and smiled nervously.

"Tea and coffee in the kitchen. Help yourself to cereal in the morning." Then he left again, closing the door behind him. We waited a few moments, hearing him move away, then I turned to Timmi and we grinned at each other.

"Still hungry?" he said, raising an eyebrow. I crouched over his zipper once more and released the prisoner, taking in what you might call a late supper.


 One Week Ago

Dr Daniels had, against all odds, been an excellent host. He'd used the remainder of his visa time in the US to teach us how to be a little more independent and self-sufficient. We were able to stay at his borrowed house for as long as he was there, and he showed us both the basics of good cooking (at which he proved to be far more talented at than his science). He was, unashamedly, setting us up for a life in which we would have no problems to which we could complain about his treatment of us. 

But he had become much more comfortable in our presence, even when Timmi or I dressed up in girls' clothes and make-up, or showed each other little signs of affection around the house. He was due to leave the country to return to 'Blighty' the following day, and we were sitting together at his small dinner table having a final evening meal together.

Dr Daniels (we'd learned that his name was Myles, but still called him 'Dr Daniels') had cooked a beef Wellington, with roast potatoes, steamed vegetables, hot gravy and little wafer-like dumplings he called 'Yorkshire Puddings'.

"In another life, these things would make excellent pancakes!" he told us excitedly, as he had whisked the mixture earlier in the day. Timmi and I looked suspicious, but nodded and smiled; the universal act of polite appeasement.

The three of us had spoken at length over the previous week. Spoken about what each of our aspirations were, what we wanted to achieve in life. Dr Daniels was set on going back home to marry his sweetheart (also a geek scientist like him), and making 'the next great breakthrough'. We'd asked, of course, what 'the next great breakthrough' was, but Dr Daniels had smiled inanely, shrugging his shoulders. For our part, Timmi and I were still trying to think through the weeks ahead, let alone years. We'd made a 'gentleman's agreement' not to expose Dr Daniels' project, unless we had no other choice. In return, Dr Daniels gave us the steel briefcase containing the last eight shots of the cyto-fyto-whats-it. He had explained, on numerous occasions, what properties the chemicals in the syringes contained. Had gabbled, at length, on the intended and projected differences the chemicals would make, and on what he hoped his project would achieve. He even wrote it all down for us and left it with the syringes.

"So, like, how long is this stuff going to last?" Timmi said, handling one of the delicate syringes.

"Do you mean the shots, or the effects?" Dr Daniels said.

I frowned. "The effects wear off?" I said. I couldn't imagine starting to lose the incredible feelings the injections gave me; not just sexually, not just for my brother (I think we had gone too far down that road to worry about not making love to one another), but in how focussed and zoned I felt compared to before. Dr Daniels shrugged.

"Everything with you guys is a new; a first. Although" he added, finger raised as a rider to his point, "I would imagine that given the incredibly physical effects the [here again he said the name of the chemical solution and, yet again, I failed to grasp it], then release from it will almost certainly have some kind of effect. Something like cold turkey, at least."

"Cold turkey?"

"Yes; when someone is starved of their habitual drug they-"

"I know what it is, doc. I'm now just trying not to think of a cold turkey every time I see Timmi's dick!"

"Hmm. Quite. Well, there may be some effects but I wont be here to monitor them, of course."

That got us into another long discussion about what Timmi and I should do with ourselves once Dr Daniels had left. We agreed that we would scale down our use of the cyto-fyto-whats-it; given that there were only eight shots left, we would first go for as long as we dared without one. Dr Daniels conceded that the drugs may have had a permanent effect on our physiology. Conceded that maybe, perhaps, the drugs wouldn't be needed at all. So much about this project was new, and so much about identical twins was a mystery, that there was always that variable, that 'x' factor.

We could stay in the house for as long as Dr Daniels was there, but had to leave when he dropped off the keys with the property management company which looked after his colleague's house. Then we were on our own.

All we had was about three thousand dollars between us, and a whole lot of love to match it.

We didn't know it just yet, but we had a plan.  
 Right Now

I pressed back as hard as I could against Timmi, feeling him plough his way up my ass with his gorgeous dick. I had felt him pulse once up inside me, then felt him as he jerked his hips a second time, spending himself up my tube.

He held me tight while the orgasm rippled through him, and let his hand drift up and down my body, eventually finding my own rock-hard member. He wrapped his fingers around it, causing me to moan.

"You want to put that thing away somewhere?" he murmured, in my ear. I grinned, knowing exactly where I wanted to put it. I put my hand over his, double-wrapping my dick, and told him what I thought. There was an appreciative, warm "Mmmm" at my ear, and Timmi pulled himself free of my manhole, leaving his cum inside me. He flopped back onto the bed, laying on his back with his arms above his head in the 'surrender' mode.

I kissed his left nipple, teasing the sensitive bud with my tongue and teeth (but not biting too hard), and travelled down my brother's body, feeling and tasting the ridges and lines of his well-muscled stomach with my lips and tongue. I paused as my head hovered over his crotch and, on impulse, took his soft dick into my mouth and began to suck it. It was, in a way, wildly indulgent to start sucking the spent sex organ that had, only moments earlier, plugged my own asshole, but it looked too inviting not to. I was careful not to be too hard with Timmi's balls; knowing they would be tender, but sucked luxuriously on his soft dick, tasting both his and my own earthy juices up and down his fleshy shaft.

I moved so that I was crouching between Timmi's legs, and he opened them wide for me as I did so. He pulled up his legs from the underside of his knees, exposing his lovely bare, hairless ass for me. I bent forward, kissing and licking the sweat that had dibbled between his cheeks. I fastened my mouth to his asshole, licking and sucking his hole as he moaned softly at the pleasurable sensation, coo-ing my name over and over again. I rimmed him until my tongue started to feel numb and his ring was well and truly relaxed. At that point, with my dick literally bursting out of its foreskin, I shuffled into a kneeling position and helped lift my twin brother into that awkward, but eminently fuckable position where Timmi had his lower body pinned up in the air, resting on his shoulders. His dick hung limp against his belly but his ass, his wonderful, wet and tongue-fucked asshole, was just itching to be drilled.

I manoeuvred him to the side then stood up beside the bed so that I was well positioned. When I was sure Timmi was as comfortable as possible, I held the base of my swollen sex organ and directed the purple tip to Timmi's manhole. I could feel the slick wetness I'd made on his puckered skin as I dipped my dick and pushed it against his anus. There was that fraction of resistance I'd come to expect from my brother's tube, then my dick started to sink down into him. Timmi closed his eyes and opened his mouth into an 'O' as I filled him up. When my rod was fully sunk into his flesh, I wrapped my arms around his smooth thighs and began rocking my hips backwards and forwards, never for one moment taking my eyes off the sight of my thick cock drilling down into my brother's ass again and again and again. The dribble of Timmi's cum, finally escaping out of my own well-reamed ass just added to the sexual frission.

His asshole felt wonderfully hot and tight around my member and, when I felt the onrushing orgasm start to build, I was caught in a sudden quandary; should I drill my cock in deep and unload, or pull it out and watch it spurt all over his body. I grunted out the question to Timmi who, instead of answering, reached between his legs and pulled my cock from his ass, gripping it and jerking me off.




Inside Track Pt. 03



"Bareback me!" Timmi said, releasing my dick only a moment or so from the point of no return. He rolled onto his tummy and closed his legs together. He still wore the ladies' boots and, butt naked except for them, looked very sexy. Steadying myself as I straddled him, I directed my dick between his tight ass cheeks where my member slipped easily into his manhole. I pressed myself down onto his ass, feeling my cock sink fully into him and knowing exactly how that felt. It was feeling my brother's beautiful body beneath me, feeling my skin against his skin and, strangely, feeling my feet rub against the leather of his boots, that finally did it. I arched my back and pressed myself into him as I felt the first, second and third spurts of cum empty deep inside him.

I held the pose for a moment or two, then collapsed onto the bed on top of my brother. I held him for a while, wrapping my arms around him as we lay in a sweat together on the cramped bed, my softening sex organ still plugging his asshole. I kissed the back of his neck a few times, just the way I knew he liked it. His skin tasted good, and the love-making had made us both drowsy.

We had booked into a little motel in the 'burbs a few hours ago, taking our stuff from Dr Daniels' borrowed house and crossing town using buses. Before we left, Timmi went into the bathroom with the third case; the frills 'n' make-up case, as we called it. He came out, fifteen minutes later, looking strikingly gorgeous. He had curled his hair a little; giving it a slight kink, and had put on his old 'Dusk's Kiss' lipstick, with a little eye liner and concealer. He'd put on a little chest-padded vest-top and jacket, the tan-coloured skirt he had bought for me, some natural coloured tights and a pair of knee-length, low-heeled boots he had only bought last week. He looked really, really gorgeous, and knew it.

Unable to help myself, we had kissed for a long while in Dr Daniels front room as he went through the house, tidying things away and trying to ignore us. He didn't approve of our sexual liaisons, but understood them and, even, told Timmi how lovely he looked dressed up (Timmi giggled and bit his lower lip in that coy smile, shameless flirt that he is).

Then we left Dr Daniels, each kissing his cheek (we'd talked about double-teaming him; maybe both dressed up as girls, but reckoned he wasn't the type to be tempted, even by a couple of hot muffins like us). Then, taking our bags, we left his house, hand in hand, and went on our way.

I sighed, feeling sleepy and drowsy after our lovemaking. Timmi was still wearing his boots, and we had to get up to shower, but I liked holding him after we'd had sex, so snuggled against him for a precious few minutes.

"Do you think we're going to make it?" I said, thinking how wonderful and shitty life could be at the same time.

"'course, Clay. We're young, beautiful, and talented. Nothing to stop us."

"What about federal and state law?"

"Can't see Mr Federal, or Mr State in here. Besides, those laws are to stop hicks in the backwoods from fucking their sisters and mussing up the gene pool."

"And to stop family members being exploited." I said, lowering my voice. Bizarrely, perversely, I had got a bit religious (as they say) about the whole incest topic; becoming a firm believer that most incest was non-consensual and wrong. Timmi and I were perhaps one of the only few incestuous couples who proved the exception to the rule, and we both felt comfortable that if we were breaking any laws, it would only be down to a bad interpretation of them.

Timmi found my left hand with his and laced his fingers between mine.

"We'll come up with something" he murmured, answering my earlier question if we'd be okay.

We nearly fell asleep, but I felt my cock shift in his ass as I moved, and it made me want to get up to shower.

I rolled off Timmi and went to the little cubicle in the motel room's bathroom. I had stripped naked already, before Timmi took me to bed, and called out for Timmi to join me if he could be bothered to strip his lazy ass. And it was there, in the cramped little shower, with damp and mold-spots as my only companions, that The Idea came to me.

I let it swim around in my head a little, at first disbelieving what had come to me in a flash from nothingness. Then I started to pick it apart, trying to do the scientific thing and pick holes in The Idea, then patch them up with solutions. And, when Timmi squeezed into the shower with me and we soaped each other down, I still continued to think about The Idea, giving short, distracted answers to Timmi's small-talk.

Later, much later, as we lay together under starched sheets on the so far unused bed on Timmi's side, A half moon risen high in the sky, I told Timmi about The Idea. He laughed, then snorted derisively, then laughed at me again and then - only after a good belly-ache - did he start listening properly.

The next day, foregoing our usual morning sexual liaison, I got our things ready and we went to a storage depot at one of the bus terminals in town. We'd both dressed for college, and went there. But not to our classes. We went to the library, where we hogged an internet terminal for about four hours, going through as much research as I'd ever done before. And, when we'd finished it, Timmi wasn't laughing at The Idea any more.


The Future

Hell, I don't know what the future's going to be. Don't ask me. But what I did know was that the future contained me, Timmi, the cyto-fyto-whats-it, and The Idea. 

The Idea (because I just know you want to know) is an entirely corrupt, capitalist idea; a product of our circumstances designed to make our lives wealthier and better. And to make other's lives better too, of course.

In short, The Idea was to farm the cyto-fyto stuff and produce it, not on a mass scale, but on a small scale, to some very select clients, who would appreciate the very distinct properties it had saddled onto us. The first part of The Idea was to find a backer; someone of influence who could help realize the second part of The Idea - replicating and producing the cyto-fyto for a select market - and then lead to the third pat of The Idea. Making Timmi and I hugely rich.

So, the time we spent on the computer at school was spent first on finding that back and then, when we'd found her (as it turned out, the one sensible reply we had from our initial e-mails was from the agent of a pair of female twins who were in the Adult industry).

Timmi and I retired to another motel where, to celebrate our hope, Timmi dressed up fabulously from the Frills 'n' Make-up case and we hit the town to spend a bit of our remaining cash on an outrageously expensive meal at an outrageously top-salary restaurant.

We dinked our wine glasses together as we finished the meal and, unable to help ourselves in the moment, leaned across the table and kissed each other.

Somewhere to my right and Timmi's left, we heard someone say "Ahhh", and we knew - just knew - that they were looking at us and wishing us well.

And they would have been right.

The End