Inside Trac

[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.