A Widow's Tale Ch. 03

Author's note: this story is heavily gay male in content. The gentle reader is advised.

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"You know I sleep with my brother, right?"

Eric and I had spent several days apart after those first encounters, and it was good to lie next to him on the blanket, warm sun streaming down on our faces. Puffy white clouds floated in a dazzling blue sky as he made good on the promise to tell me about his life.

"You've dropped hints."

"I know there's a word for it, but that's not what it feels like. It's just that we've always been together -- conceived together, born together, raised together. And then we got older and we loved together. It seemed perfectly natural then. It still does and it always will. You need to know that. We won't leave each other. We promised never to leave each other."

"Do you have a picture of him?"

Eric shifted to his side, smiling softly. "You're lookin' at him."

"Identical? Really?"

"I prefer to say that we look alike."

I touched his face, running my thumb over his cheekbone. "Eric Price, you are the most unorthodox person I have ever met. And if I had to be concerned about what other people thought, I would get up and run like hell. But there is no one in my life who has any expectations of me. My old life is gone. The only person I have to make happy is myself. I like you. You have a good heart. I'm adventurous enough to see what happens."

"You can't say you weren't warned."

"Ok. I won't. Do you have a family?"

"Other than Todd, no. Not anymore. You?"

"No. Daddy died when I was a little girl. Mom passed about a year before Gerald. No siblings."

"Fuck. That makes being disowned sound like the grand prize."

"They really disowned you?"

"Oh, yeah. Big time. It was horrible. I can talk about it. Todd can't."

"Talk then."

Eric sighed, his chest moving deeply with his breath. "We were raised in a really strict religious household. My grandfather was a preacher -- speaking in tongues, all that shit. He was good at it, though. He preached in his garage until the congregation got too big. Then they built the church. Dad decided early in life that he had the call and he all but grew up in that building. He met Mom there, married her there. When Pap died, he took over the ministry. All of our lives revolved around church."

"A preacher's kid. Good Lord."

Eric grinned, trying to look coy.

"Typical, huh? We would have had a sister, err, we did have a sister. She was older. Mom never would say what was wrong, but she only lived a few hours. So you can imagine when Todd and I were born it was a huge deal."

"The answer to your mother's prayers."

"Prayers, hell. We were fuckin' prophecy, baby! Fullness restored. God's grace revealed." He delivered the words as though he could have easily been a convincing preacher himself. Except for the expletive.

"That's a lot to live up to."

"We knew from the beginning that we were violating a huge taboo. We didn't play charades because we were afraid of who we were. We did it because of who our parents were in the community. There was no reason to scandalize what they had. They're honest people. Sincere. Not con-artists like some of them. "

Eric's cell phone chimed. "Sorry. I have to answer this." He pulled the phone out of his pocket, thumbed in a brief message, and returned the device to its hiding place.

"OK. Sorry about that."

"Duty calls?"

"Uh, maybe. Anyway ... "

""Yeah. So, what happened? How did they find out?"

"We got sloppy. Got caught."

"Ouch."

"No shit. We were in college, home for Christmas break. It was funny; we'd talked about maybe trying to have the coming-out conversation with them but decided that the time wasn't right. The holidays and church and all, you know? It could wait."

"Reverend Fred -- Dad -- was always sending us on good will missions. He found one for us the second day of break. There was a new family in the church. Our job was to take their son, Ben, under our wings for the week. The story was that Ben was still missing a best friend from home and we were to take him around town, show him where to go, that sort of thing. He gave us the address and said they were expecting us and sent us out the door. We joked about who ought to get the bill for our time. We had started collecting clients by then."

"Anyway, we got there, we met the kid. I say kid, but he was our age. Small, though. A lot smaller than we were. And really awkward. And queer as a three dollar bill. We didn't know it, but his parents set him up. He had no idea he was going out until we got there. And he didn't want any part of it."

"They forced him to go, I assume."

"Yep. We couldn't get him to talk. He had that deer-in-the-headlights thing goin' really bad, just sitting in the back seat, cringing. Todd was driving. I looked at Todd, Todd looked at me, and then he stopped the car. And what he said next I will never forget."

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"Ben, it's time to cut the bullshit. We know you're a fag and we know you're pining for your boyfriend."

"Jesus, Todd! Are you trying to be an asshole?!"

"No, Eric, I'm not."

Eric turned, trying to calm poor Ben who was as pale and skinny as he was terrified -- which was to say, completely. This fucking place was shaping up to be as awful as the last place. He hoped the two pretty preacher-boys would leave his face alone and just get it over with. So far, no one in Vandalia had kicked his ass. Until today. Merry fucking Christmas. His dad was going to shit.

"Just ignore him, man. He's been impossible all day."

"Me?!" Todd interjected. "You're the one who won't put out."

"Are you still on that?"

"I just don't get what the problem is. It's our old room, for Christ's sake. We've fucked in there ten thousand times."

Eric knew he was never going to win this one. "Yeah, yeah. I know."

"Ha! Did you hear that, Ben? That was the sweet sound of Eric giving in!"

"Huh?" Ben was shaking.

"Like I said, just ignore him. Are you cold or something?"

"Please just let me out. Please. I won't say anything to anyone."

"What in the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm not stupid, OK? I know what's going to happen. Where are you guys taking me?"

"East St. Louis, Ben," Todd announced over his shoulder. "We'll be there in about an hour."

Ben lunged for the door, frantically pulling at the unresponsive latch disabled by safety features. "I don't want to leave town! Let me the fuck out!" His chest heaved and tears started to well-up in his eyes.

"Ben, seriously, just relax. We're not baiting you, if that's what you're afraid of."

Ben glared harshly at Eric and tried hard to look tough. "You think I haven't heard that before?"

"It's gonna be hard to land a new lover with that attitude."

Ben snorted. "Whatever. Why East St. Louis?"

"I thought you didn't want to leave town."

"Fuckin' trapped anyway."

Todd pulled back into the stream of traffic, such as it was.

"We're supposed to show you around. You'll see."

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Todd and Eric always created something of a scene anywhere they went together, but bars were the worst. The gaunt emo-looking kid with them seemed nervous and distinctly out of place, but his ID was good and the three gained admittance. Even at the supper hour the bar was fairly busy and every pair of eyes fell upon them. Ben was already feeling vaguely carsick and his stomach lurched again when he realized he had been taken to a gay bar. This was the sickest joke anyone had played on him. Ever.

"Eric, why don't you and Ben grab a table. I'll get drinks."

After the ordeal of getting him out of the house, the brothers were shocked when Ben downed the scotch and water that had been placed in front of him. He stared intently at the tabletop throughout the second drink and half of the third, barely speaking and for all the world looking like he was being led to his own funeral. When he finally looked up, Todd met his gaze.

"Are you better yet?"

"Did they really call me a fag?"

"No. Eric's right. I was being an asshole on that one."

"Oh." Ben's eyes got wet again. "I really miss John."

His small body sagged under the weight of his despair. Todd gently touched his shoulder; for a moment Ben tensed reflexively, then melted into Todd's side. Eric held his hand from across the table. Ben tossed down the rest of his third drink, then pushed the glass away with a groan and a sour face.

He still wasn't convinced that the pastor's sons were really gay, but it was looking like he was going to keep his teeth after all. The two /were/ beautiful. Enviously beautiful to a person who hated his own body. Beautiful and confident and smooth. Like angels. He felt pretty sure that there was a sermon coming, but he could handle that. Better a sermon than a beating, and he had a decent buzz going to make it easier.

"So how do I tell you guys apart?"

Eric flashed him a a playful smile. "Todd curves to the right. Just a little." He winked at them both and lifted his glass. Between the booze and the joke, Ben finally looked like he wasn't going to crawl out of his skin. He noticed that there was music playing. The bar was twinkling with Christmas lights and the bartenders were in Santa hats and jingle bells. Here and there, couples were kissing. Two small, wiry men not unlike himself were pecking and cooing like birds at the end of the bar. Ben watched them, not caring about manners, tipsy and sad.

When Ben turned back to tell his unwished-for companions that he needed to use the men's room, he was stunned by the unexpected sight of them locked in a powerful kiss. Eric had both hands on the back of Todd's neck, pulling him to his open mouth, tongues probing deeply. He tried to look away quickly -- to pretend he hadn't seen their exchange -- but it was like trying to look away from a bad accident. Ben felt his cock beginning to thicken just as their mouths parted. He'd been caught. Smiling, Eric held his hand out to their painfully embarrassed charge.

"I need to go to the bathroom" He could feel his ears burning.

"Come on."

Ben stood, swaying sharply. He grabbed the back of his chair and took a deep breath, steadying himself without help. The men led him down a dimly lit corridor and stopped at the restroom. The air in the hallway was stagnant and hung with the smell of men. A shrill wolf-whistle pierced the steady thump of music from the front of the bar.

"You boys need any help in there?" The voice sounded effeminate and exaggerated.

"Maybe next time," Todd called back and opened the door. Ben had no idea what to expect on the other side of that door. He'd read wanker stories on the internet about bathroom orgies in gay bars. To his relief, there was only one other man at the urinals, and he was tucking himself back in. Still, he knew he'd never be able to get his stream going in front of the blonde gods. He ducked into a stall to pee. They were waiting for him when he finally emerged.

"Shy kidneys?" Todd quipped.

"Uh, something like that."

Eric moved in closer -- closer than guys ought to be standing -- but Ben didn't protest.

"Would you like us to kiss you? It's OK to say no."

"Yeah," Ben's heart was pounding. Maybe he was going to get a kiss. Maybe he was going to get punched in the face, or maybe they had a camera. Still, he said yes. Eric leaned in toward his upturned face, their lips brushing tentatively. The height difference felt weird; John wasn't nearly as tall as the man who was kissing him now. It was a good kiss. Patient. Accepting. Warm breath cascaded down his neck as Todd's lips danced over exposed skin. When Eric's mouth left, Todd's took its place, and back and forth they went. Eric spoke softly into Ben's ear.

"You're so nice to kiss. You're doing so good." His hand slipped down over Ben's slender belly and rested on the crest of his narrow pelvis. "Stop? Or go?"

Ben moaned, unable to make words, his body having taken control of his hesitant, skittish mind. Eric went back to kissing and petting Ben's neck and face; Todd wordlessly freed his erect shaft and stroked it firmly. What Ben lacked in length he made up for in girth and he was as hard as he had ever been in his life. He shuddered as Todd continued to masturbate him; it had been awhile and he didn't think he could last much longer, especially being sandwiched between the two hottest men he had ever seen. He made a funny imminent squeak and Todd paused. Ben leaned heavily on Eric's solid chest, his head tipped back and mouth freely accepting Eric's tongue. Todd sank to his knees and enveloped the bloated head of Ben's fat cock in his mouth.

His head spinning, his nostrils filled with the smell of Eric's shirt, his ears soothed by reassurances, Ben emptied his balls down the back of Todd's throat much sooner than he wanted. "Is this real? Is this real?" he chanted silently as he watched Todd transfer a glob of his cum into Eric's mouth. The men praised him, their hands continuing to roam over his trembling body. He could taste himself on their lips. A strange voice passed through the soundscape; "lucky little queer" it snipped. Then a husky familiar one was heard.

"Please Eric. I can't wait anymore."

Except for his one, lone lover Ben had never seen another man's erection. Now there were two, mere inches away from him, hard and full and livid. He'd have never believed this morning what he was witnessing tonight. The twins said little, not needing words to communicate. Todd planted his open hands on the wall over the urinals, waiting; Eric slid effortlessly into his brother from behind, the way eased only by a little spit and lifetime of trust. Ben was hypnotized by the sight. John had tried to fuck him once, but it had been unbearably painful. Eric settled in, snug against Todd's muscular butt. He kissed Todd's neck, then grasped his shoulders. Slowly he pulled back until only the head of his beautiful cock remained inside his twin.

Suddenly, Eric's teeth were bared and he was stern and frightening and pounding himself into Todd. Ben reeled backward, shocked by the abrupt explosion of force. Eric brought Todd to his tip-toes with every thrust, the tempo increasing steadily. To Ben it looked brutal but Todd's cock was hard as stone and leaking generously. Did it curve to the right a little? Ben couldn't tell; somewhere in the back of his mind he heard his father demeaning him while his hand twitched for want of touching Todd's cock. Eric's fingers were buried deeply in Todd's muscular shoulders as he continued driving into him fiercely. Ben rubbed his own cock instead, too intimidated by the intensity of the fucking.

The two moved together flawlessly, almost as one. Todd dropped one hand to his crotch, making a tight fist around his crank. Eric wrapped an arm around his brother's chest, replacing the support that the wall had been providing. He said stuff. Stuff that Ben couldn't imagine saying but that seemed to make Todd even harder.

"Is this what you wanted, Bitch? Bent over a urinal and fucked?"

"Uh-huh," Todd was far away, panting more than speaking.

"Bitch better cum first because I'm not sucking you off in here." Eric lunged forward, nearly knocking them both off balance. Todd was stroking his cock -- hard -- and a heavy rope of thick cum erupted into the urinal. Ben stood slack-jawed and overwhelmed, not sure what he was seeing. Eric slammed a few more strokes into Todd's spasming ass before himself giving in to orgasm.

Appearances turned like a windmill; Eric held Todd lovingly, tender as a lamb on Easter morning. Ben didn't know how much more freaked-out he could get. First he was scared of an ass-beating. Now an ass-fucking looked a lot more terrifying. He sent up a prayer, short and to the point: "Please, God, let them be done."

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"After than, Ben was more talkative but he didn't want to be touched."

I wanted to be touched. Eric's story had me all lit up and ready to go. But it wasn't finished, and it had to be told.

"He said that he had issues, and he was right about that. Apparently his parents knew about his orientation. His mother seemed OK with it, but his dad was a prick. And Ben drank like he had a hollow leg. He'd be hammered by early afternoon and could still out-drink both of us."

"That's awful. Poor kid."

"Yeah. We did what we could, but he just wanted to be blind drunk and left alone. He talked about sex some. Mostly, he was just inexperienced and had a hang-up about his body. He couldn't have been more than five-two and a hundred pounds. We told him when we were leaving and gave him an open offer. No strings, no judgments. Just free advice."

"And he didn't take you up on it until the last minute."

"You are spot on, Maggie. You're quick -- I like that." He squeezed my hand, then brought it to his lips. How could such a small act be so intensely pleasurable?

The cell phone warbled again. Eric groaned and keyed in another message.

"Jackass didn't want to pick up my airfare. Now he wants to stick me in coach. Fuck that."

"Taking the show on the road?"

"Not if I have to fly coach. I, uh, I feel bad about setting up a date in front of you. It was unexpected but, um," Eric sighed, "it's a lot of money is all."

"Don't fold on flying first class. Coach sucks."

Eric gazed at my face with his riveting green eyes. "Thanks."

***************************************

Ben knew he was kidding himself, that he couldn't drink away his desires. It was worth a try, though. Besides, if he was going to go through with it he'd need to be tanked. According to the church calendar, Reverend Fred and his well-fed wife Maxine would be at the old-folk's home most of the afternoon. Either Eric and Todd would be home and he'd get what he was looking for or not. He tucked the bottle he was working on inside his coat and stepped out into the snow.

Somewhere between the two houses, Ben slipped on a patch of ice and did a spectacular nosedive into a heaping snow bank full of gravel and ice chunks. Freezing grey slush slipped under his collar, down his shirt, and into his shoes. The bottle survived, though. You had to have your priorities. He found his feet and trudged on. He was chilled to the bone by the time he made it to his destination.

Todd answered the door. Ben's face was red and scuffed; a shallow abrasion under his eye oozed a drop of blood, no doubt staunched by the cold. Sighing, Todd pulled him into the house.

"Who did this to you?"

Ben reached into his coat and pulled out the pint of courage he'd been carrying. "This guy. I fell down." Three-quarters of the bottle was filled with empty space.

"Come on," Todd took the whiskey and helped him to the couch. "You're going to kill yourself with this shit."

"I don't need a lecture."

"Debatable. You do need to get these wet clothes off though." Todd called to Eric who arrived in time to help pull soggy shoes and socks off Ben's cold feet.

"We'll put this stuff in the dryer for you."

"OK."

Ben made no protest while Todd stripped off his clammy jeans, nor when he pulled away the wet boxers. Eric had already brought in dry clothes and a blanket. Todd grasped Ben's shirt at the shoulders.

"Arms up." Ben's cooperation suddenly vanished. He twisted sharply, trying to push Todd away.

"No. My shirt is fine."

"Your shirt is soaked. It's coming off."

Eric caught his flailing hands and held them at the wrists while Todd brought the shirt up and over his head. Ben's chest was cross-hatched with thin, linear scars and cuts in various stages of healing.

"Goddamn. I ... I had no idea, Ben." All three grabbed for the blanket simultaneously, Ben a split-second ahead of the others despite his intoxication. He covered himself quickly, like a rabbit dashing for cover under a brush pile.