It Wasn't Mebywantsomefun1951©
This story was difficult for me to write. Not because there's violence or anger. I've done that before. Not because it's dark, although it is. This isn't the first thing I wrote that you weren't supposed to giggle or rub your way through. It has the good v. evil struggle that some writers explore, although I'm not sure, in this case, how good "good" is, or whether "evil" is to be hated or pitied.
I felt the urge to create something disturbing and to challenge myself to write something I've never done before. Here's my first attempt at writing a story with male characters who interact sexually. They love each other, for a variety of reasons and in a variety of ways.
* * * * * * * * * *
"Put the knife down, Randy," I said.
He acted like he didn't hear me. I walked closer to him and clicked off the safety on her gun. "For God's sake, Randy, put the fucking knife down and get off her. Now." I was struggling to keep my voice calm. This was my brother, after all. My identical twin brother.
"You're being a real buzz-killer, bro," he said. "You always were. Never any fun. Always acting like you had to be the conscience for both of us. Well, it's time to shut the fuck up and back the fuck off. You should know why I have to do this," he said. He pushed himself up on one arm, still on top of her. He moved the knife slowly away from the side of her neck, a tiny red line appearing as he slid just the gleaming point of it over her skin, teasing her with it. He thrust his pelvis, forcing his penis further into her.
There was nothing I dared to do.
Maria somehow controlled her breathing as Randy rested the tip of his switchblade in the hollow of her throat.
"You know what happens next, don't you, bro?" He pushed again, driving his cock deeper into Chief of Detectives Maria Rodriguez' shaved pussy. "I'm gonna fuck her better than you ever did, and then I'm gonna kill her. Just like all the rest." Thrust.
"What do you mean, 'all the rest'?"
"I'm onto you, Ronnie. I've been watching, you know. You're the king of short-term relationships. You never wondered why those girls stopped calling? Why you couldn't reach them? They're dead, that's why."
"Don't feel bad. They didn't love you. They weren't worthy of you. They just needed a good fuck." Thrust.
"You killed them?" If that was true, my twin brother was a serial killer.
"Yeah. They were trashy, dumb sluts. No one misses them. This time, you caught me, so you get to watch. You might as well. You're the guilty one here. If you pull that trigger, the entire world will see you that way. You're fucked, just like your current girlfriend." Thrust. "Put the gun back where you found it, bro. You know I'm right."
"You killed them? You killed those women?" I asked.
"Sure. It was easy. They let me into their homes, 'cuz they thought I was you. You never even told some of them you had a beloved twin, did you? That hurts, bro. Anyway, they trusted me, at least until they knew they were going to die. Abject terror on the face of a dumb bitch can be a big turn-on." Thrust.
"The cops haven't stopped you yet, but I will. This ends now. I'll kill you. I'll blow your sick fucking head off," I said.
"Well that will just solve everything, won't it?" Randy asked, flashing me what appeared to be a smile. Thrust. "They'll think you're guilty of ALL the murders if you kill me. It'll blow their minds. I'm already dead, remember? Plus, my DNA is as close to yours as anyone on earth. Fuck that 'copy number variants' shit on gene matching. You left enough DNA in those girls' homes and pussies to confuse anyone."
"So what?" I shouted.
"If they start with the assumption that you're the killer, they'll be able to poke holes in a genetics defense. You're fucked, bro. The only way you stay off death row is if you let me live." Thrust. "She dies, but I live."
"No, she lives, and she testifies to the whole damn thing. I won't do time, Randy. I won't have committed a crime. She might have to bust me for something like illegal discharge of a firearm or some such shit, but no more women will lose their lives because of you."
"I do believe you're serious. You are, aren't you?" he laughed. The tip of his ugly knife was still poised to perform a rather messy tracheotomy on Maria. Thrust.
"Dead fucking serious. I will kill you. Put the knife away, and get off her now," I said. I took a step closer to the bed. There was no way I would miss his head at this distance.
"Don't get any closer, Ronnie," he said. Thrust. "Here's how it's going to go down. You shoot me -- my weight alone will drive this blade practically through to her spine. She might bleed out, or she might drown in her own blood, but she will die. So will I, obviously, although for some reason you don't seem to care about that. You'll still be a killer, only now, it's for real." Thrust.
"Don't hurt her, Randy. She doesn't know anything about you. No one knows about you."
"She does now, doesn't she? There's really only one thing I can think of to do about that. You'd better leave if you don't want to see it." Thrust.
"I won't let you do this."
"Of course you will. You can't take the risk of murdering me. After all, it will be obvious that it was you that shot me, and if you killed once, who knows? They won't have me to prosecute. It's okay. I can see you understand. I'm watching your finger. I know you. Hell, I am you, and you're me. You're not gonna shoot." Thrust.
Maria's quiet tears spilled over onto the pillow, her lips moving in mute prayer as he energetically raped her. Her wrists were held to the bed-frame with her service cuffs, and cruel lengths of bare wire cut at her ankles. Relentlessly, she strained against her shackles, spotting the bed sheets with the sweat and blood of her struggles.
He pinned her to the bed with his body weight and kissed and bit lewdly at her neck. He was safe for the moment, and he knew it. Flaunted it. If I shot him now, the bullet could do as much harm to Maria as his knife.
In the time that I've known this woman, we've played a few games. Cops and robbers was an obvious favorite. But those restraints were padded, and the most lethal object involved in a night of fun was a gently handled leather flail. Sometime, our evenings started out with me "resisting arrest" and then having to work my way out of mt bindings so I could overpower her and fuck her.
This was different. There was no safe word.
I felt cold sweat start to form on the back of my hand. Would he make a move, a mistake, create a split-second window of opportunity where I might be able to shoot him without having her die as a result? At this point, I wasn't worrying about the consequences. My brother would probably die very soon. It was just a question of whether Maria would too.
* * * * * * * * * *
We're identical twins. As children, we spent all our time together. We shared a room, and wouldn't have had it any other way. We were close, and as some twins report they do, we could sense each other's feelings about things, almost read each other's minds.
The problems between us started our senior year in high school. We were trying things with girls, whispering to each other about them, sharing fantasies and secrets when we actually got to do something with one. I even let him pretend to be me to cop a feel from my one girlfriend, since he had never touched a girl's boobs. That was stupid. He managed to get her bra unfastened and to touch her bare nipples. I never got that far with her.
When you share a room with someone, a soul you've known on some level since before your birth, you're living with a person who is inside your head. We knew when our horny talk would lead to some hand time under the covers when we turned our lights out.
One night, just as I was discretely trying to cum into the tissues I had smuggled into my bed, Randy said, "I want to see it."
"I want to see it," he repeated.
He chuckled. "I know what you're doing over there. After those videos we watched tonight, I was gonna do the same thing."
"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied.
"Bro, this is me you're talking to. Stop bullshitting. You were jerking off. Admit it."
"Okay, yeah, I was. So what? It's not like I haven't heard you doing it."
"I'm sure you have. I was gonna wait tonight until you fell asleep, but you were pretty loud. So, I want to see it," he repeated.
"You keep saying that. What? You want to see my dick?"
"Yeah," Randy said, turning on the light on the nightstand between our beds. "I want to see what it looks like when you cum."
"It probably looks like yours," I said. "Haven't you ever watched yourself do it?"
"Sure, but I don't think it will be the same. Please, Ronnie."
It seemed like a strange request. We were supposed to be looking at girls, weren't we?
"Ronnie? Please? I really want to see it," he persisted.
"I don't know. That seems a little weird," I said.
"Why? Because we're two guys?" he asked.
"Well, yeah. That's gay, isn't it?"
"I don't know," Randy said. "I'm not sure it counts since we're brothers."
"That makes it even kinda weirder, doesn't it? Isn't that like, incest, or something?" I asked.
"Look at it this way," my twin rationalized. "It's not gay if you watch yourself jerk off, is it?"
"And it's not incest if you make yourself cum, right?"
"I sure as hell hope not," I smirked.
"You and I are the closest form of relative a person can have. We're identical twins. Almost like clones of each other. We grew from the same egg and sperm. You are me, and I'm you. It would be like watching yourself jerk off in front of the mirror. I bet you've done that, haven't you?" he asked.
"Well, yeah, I have."
"I have too. Now I want to see it without a mirror. C'mon, bro. It's not like I'm going to tell anyone."
Even though I knew Randy's logic was completely wrong, it made some kind of sense. Plus, I had been close enough that I would have a bad case of blue balls in the morning if I stopped now. "What do you want me to do?"
"I don't know.... Just sit on the edge of your bed and whip it out."
I decided I could do that. I had been thinking about hot, curvy, blond Chelsea, the girl that sat next to me in Calculus, before my brother interrupted me. I had caught her playing with herself in class, and that night, we did it to each other when we "studied" together at her place. In bed, I had been pretending it was her hand masturbating me instead of my own. She said she liked watching me cum. Was this so different?
Looking back on that night, I know that it was very much different. I sat there on the edge of my mattress, my hard-on poking out though my boxer shorts, looking across the small gap between our beds at my mirror image, with an erection exactly like mine. Our twin instincts made us match our rhythm perfectly, his left hand on his cock synchronized with my right hand on mine. Randy had said it, and he was correct. It sort of looked like rubbing one out at the bathroom sink.
Except, there was no sink, and no mirror mounted over it. My brother was watching me fuck my fist, and I watched him do the same thing. Being teenagers, it didn't take us long at all to be ready. It was weird, watching my mirror image cum into his hand, as I shot my load into my tissues.
"Whew," Randy said after a while. "Thanks."
"Uh, you're welcome, I guess."
"Oh, get serious. You came like a damn geyser. I saw you. I watched you watching me," my twin said. "And it was cool. You liked it. Admit it."
"I guess it was kinda cool," I mumbled.
"You came a lot, didn't you?"
"I don't know. It felt good."
"Look at all this," he said, showing me the puddle of semen that threatened to overflow his hand. "Did you ever wonder what a chick tastes when she gives a guy head?"
"Uh,... not really. I haven't thought about it much. I don't know what it feels like to get a blowjob, so I never wondered what she tastes. I don't even know what pussy tastes like, except for licking my fingers a couple of times after a date."
"Remember Tami? That girl we met last summer when our parents took us to the beach for our eighteenth birthday?" Randy asked.
"Yeah. I also remember you disappeared with her and wouldn't tell me where you went."
"Where we went was back to her room, which you should have guessed. It's what we did."
"What did you do?" I asked.
"We had oral sex. I licked her pussy and she sucked my dick She even let me cum in her mouth!"
"Bullshit," I said.
"Twins' truth, Ronnie. I can't lie to you. You know that. Anyway, after I blew it in her mouth, she came up and kissed me."
"Without, like, brushing her teeth or drinking something?" I said.
"Yeah. It tasted funny at first, but then I thought, 'Why not? I expected her to taste it, didn't I?' When I thought of it that way, it got kinda hot."
"Really?" I said. I wasn't sure I liked the idea.
"It didn't taste bad, bro, honestly. Tami said she loved the taste of cum and the way it felt in her mouth. I was curious, so the next time I jerked off, I tried it."
"Yeah. Like this." He raised his hand to his mouth and licked up the semen pooled there. He showed it to me on his tongue, and then swallowed.
"Ewww," I said.
"It's not bad. It really doesn't taste like all that much, kinda salty and thick, like mucus."
"Honest, it's fine," Randy said. "I dare you to try it."
"What? No! That's disgusting."
"Don't I remember you saying that about green olives a few years ago? You, the guy who has to have sliced green olives on all his sandwiches now? The one that makes Mom buy one of the big jars every week?" my brother asked.
"That's different. Green olives are an acquired taste for some people. Yeah, when I first tried them, I hated them, but everyone kept saying how good they were, so I tried them again, and pretty soon I learned to like them," I said.
"Same thing with cum, bro. You know how some of the chicks we see in videos call themselves cum-sluts, or beg the guy to shoot his load in their mouth? Look at their facial expressions sometime. Some of them seem to like the taste -- at least, they keep it in their mouths for a long time before they swallow, don't they?
"Yeah, but they're getting paid to do that," I argued.
"They're also getting paid to recite a few simple lines from a script, but most of them aren't even convincing with shit like, 'Oh, oh, you're so big, oh, oh, fuck me harder.' Right? And yet, some of them look like they like sucking cock and enjoy taking a cumshot from a guy. Don't you agree?"
"Okay, maybe. I guess so. You know that chick Chelsea, in calculus?" I asked.
"She says she's done it."
"What? Swallowed cum?" Randy grinned. "That little slut! Wait! When the hell did she say that?"
I chuckled. "I didn't tell you about this, but if I do, you gotta keep your mouth shut, especially around her and her friends."
"We're both sitting here with our dicks out, bro. I can keep a secret," he laughed.
Shifting my position so my now-limp cock dropped back inside my shorts, I said, "Okay, you know how I went to her house last week to study?"
"We studied anatomy," I laughed. "She let me finger-fuck her and she jerked me off, right onto her bedspread."
"No way! How's she gonna explain that to her Mom?" Randy chuckled.
"I don't know. But listen! She said she might give me a blowjob some time, 'cuz she's done it before."
"High five, bro!"
It was only after we smacked hands that I realized we used the hands we had jerked off with.
* * * * * * * * * *
About three weeks later, I finally got up the nerve to ask Chelsea out. We had a good time at the movies, and she kept her hand on my knee as I drove her home. She invited me in, and I sat on the living room couch with her. We started making out, and it was getting pretty good. Her nipples were hard in my hand inside her bra, and her fingers were playing with my cock inside my pants. "Remember what I said I might do some time?" she purred into my ear.
"Suck this," she said, fumbling with my zipper.
Suddenly, the hallway lights came on. "It's time for your date to leave, Chelsea," her mother's voice called from the top of the stairs. "Now."
"Okay, Mom," Chelsea replied. "Dammit!" she whispered under her breath. I couldn't have agreed more.
When I got home, Randy was awake. I'm sure he could tell by my silence as I got undressed that I wasn't happy.
"How'd the date go?" he asked.
"It was great until her mother interrupted us," I said.
"What did she interrupt?"
"Chelsea was getting ready to go down on me."
"Bummer, bro! So she didn't?"
"Aw, I'm sorry. Blowjobs are great!"
"You told me. Guess I'll just have to wait."
He looked at the front of me, and saw wet spots where pre-cum had moistened my shorts. I was half hard. "You're horny as hell, aren't you?" Randy chuckled.
"What do you think?"
He gave me a taunting laugh. "I know what you're doing tonight before you go to sleep."
"There's no probably about it. C'mon, bro. You know you're gonna suffer if you don't."
"My balls are sore already," I said, flopping on my bed in just my boxers.
"When you go off tonight, it's gonna be like a fire hose, isn't it?"
"Probably," I said. I began stroking myself through the fly opening in my underwear. In seconds, I was at full attention.
"Damn, you're hard, aren't you?"
"Yeah," I said, rubbing my now-hard cock out in the open. We had done this several times by that point, so it was no surprise that my brother started playing with himself too, standing right next to my bed. His eyes were fixed on my cock, and, I have to admit, I watched him stroking himself, too. Then he did something I didn't expect. He grabbed the waistband of my boxers and started pulling them down.
"What are you doing?"
"Getting these out of the way," he said, removing my shorts from my legs so that I was now sprawled on my bed, completely nude, jerking off. Then he removed his own underwear and sat on the edge of the mattress next to me, equally naked, stroking his own cock, identical to mine.
"She was gonna blow you, huh?"
"That's what she said," I replied, still rubbing my hard, straining, leaking cock.
"Did she give you a handjob?"
"Inside my pants, yeah, but she didn't finish me," I said, remembering the feel of her fingers on my confined manhood.
"Did it feel good?" Randy asked, jerking off purposefully.
"Yeah, considering the fact she couldn't really get to it."
"Was she doing it overhand or underhand?"
"Like this?" he asked, stroking himself for me with his shaft in his palm, fingers on top and thumb out, exactly as I was doing. "Or overhand, like this?" He turned his hand over so his fingertips ran along the underside and his thumb was in his pubic hair. On the out-stroke, he ran each individual finger sensuously over the wet head of his cock.
"Underhand, I guess. I don't know. I was busy playing with her tits," I said.
"I think overhand feels better. More intense, brings me off faster," Randy said, still jerking off but watching what I was doing with great interest.
"I always did it this way," I said, indicating my cock poking out through my fist. "It works fine."
"But this should feel better," he said, pushing my hand away and wrapping his own hand, overhand-style, around me.
"Wait a minute, Randy," I said. "What the hell are you doing?"
"I feel sorry for you, bro. You need to get off. I'm just trying to help."
It felt strange and very wrong to have him touch me. He knew what he was doing, which wasn't a big shock. His hand felt fabulous on my cock, working my pre-cum into a lather as he masturbated me. His one hand was rubbing me, and with his other hand, he was stroking himself.