Ups and Downs

Twins

The next two weeks passed rapidly. When I wasn’t handling my own duties, I was helping Kim with preparations for the big Halloween bash, and whenever I could catch a few minutes, I worked on sketches to send to Mr. Youngblood at the Leslie-Lohman Museum in New York City.

During one of our early visits to Mo’s Urban Grill, Rafael had introduced me to a couple of his friends Mick and Devon, and asked them to help me pick out a costume for the party, and they happily obliged. They took me to a costume shop where we all tried on several costumes, a process that involved considerable groping, which was just a prelude to the evening’s main event. When we got back to the house, Pete, the now-deflowered virgin, joined us in a mind-blowing foursome, and it wasn’t just minds that got blown. For a guy who had sworn he would never take it up the rear, Pete had an ass with an insatiable appetite, and Mick, Devon, and I were more than eager to please him.

The night of the Halloween party Mr. Block had hired several of the college students who made the estate their second home to serve as parking valets, bus boys, bartenders, and in other capacities. My job was just to mill around making sure that everyone was happy and taken care of.

As soon as I descended the stairs in my cowboy costume, Mick and Devon rushed over in what seemed like a panic. “What the fuck are you doing dude?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“This is all wrong, bro,” said Devon as he grabbed my arm and pulled me back upstairs and into my room. “Take it off,” he commanded. “All of it.”

When I stammered asking what the problem was, they just jumped in and started disrobing me. “Guys,” I said, “I’m flattered, but I really can’t do this right now. I’m on duty tonight.”

“This ain’t about that,” said Mick. “This is about being dressed properly for the occasion.”

I wasn’t sure what “properly” meant since Devon was dressed in a Scottish kilt and almost nothing else, and Mick wore a gladiator costume with his crotch covered only with a tattered rag that flapped as he walked, exposing his warrior assets.

Once they had stripped me completely naked, they began to reassemble the costume: a brown leather jock strap with a zipper in front, pulled almost halfway down. Chaps with no pants. A suede vest unbuttoned with no shirt underneath, just my bare chest. Hat and boots, of course, and a gun belt and holster, but instead of a gun, the holster held a huge black dildo. A blue handkerchief not tied around my neck, but tucked into the back of my chaps, signaling that I was ready to play. “The final touch,” proclaimed Mick as he pulled out a sheriff’s badge from his pocket and attached it not to the vest, but to the strap of the brown leather jock.

“I don’t know about this, guys,” I demurred.

“Well, we do know,” replied Devon. “We’ve been to several of these, and trust us. This is the way to dress.”

Once we sashayed back downstairs, I could see that they were right. Nearly every guest who had arrived was wearing a very revealing costume. Many were dressed as super heroes or other  macho types: lumberjacks, firemen, soldiers, cops, etc., but always with alterations in the most conspicuous places. It was a veritable feast of masculinity. At least my dick was not exposed like so many of the guests—except when some adventurous guy would reach inside my jock and pull my dick out.

Ron and Kim were similarly dressed. As the chef, Kim wore an apron, but it was transparent except for a little lettering that read, “My meat is very succulent.” Being the primary housekeeper, Ron wore an outfit that consisted only of a black bow tie, white cuffs with black cufflinks, and very skimpy briefs designed to suggest a tux. He looked more like a Chippendale than a housekeeper.

I spotted Zac, the piano-playing hottie I had fucked in the limo, standing next to the baby grand in his Dracula costume. Actually, it was just a black cape and fangs, nothing more, and he looked fucking hot. Mr. Block had hired him to entertain the guests. “Zac!” I yelled as I ran over to hug him.

“Well, thanks, dude. I appreciate the hug,” he said, “but I’m not Zac.”

I slapped him lightly across his arm and laughed off the joke until I realized that he wasn’t kidding. Suddenly, I heard a familiar voice behind me and turned to see an exact double of Zac dressed as Liberace, albeit a very macho Liberace. I quickly learned that the guy behind me was the real Zac and the one in the cape was his twin brother, Jack.

“Hey,” Jack said to his twin brother. “Is this the stud you were telling me about, the one in the limo? I can see why you were so turned on,” added Jack as he reached under my open vest to rub my pecs and pinch my nipples.

“Oooh,” I purred. “I’ve never done it with twins before.”

“We have,” laughed the duo.

My mind spun into an erotic cyclone as I imagined two sets of twins in a foursome. Holy fuck!

“I have to do what Mr. Block hired me to do,” said Zac as he sat down at the piano and began to play a medley of ghostly songs, including music from the “Rocky Horror Picture Show” and “Phantom of the Opera,” oldies such as the theme from “The Addams Family” and “Monster Mash,” and dark classics from Shastakovich. He really was quite an accomplished pianist and entertainer, keeping the guests entertained all evening.

“We don’t have to wait for Zac,” said his eager twin brother Jack as he unzipped my jock strap and ran a finger through the slit, teasing my cock as he pretended to bite my neck.

“I’m very tempted,” I assured him, “but like Jack, I do have to work tonight. A rain check?” I asked, but before I could get Jack’s reply, I spotted something that had me trying to race through the growing crowd to get to the front door.

Dressed in only a pair of bulging boxer briefs and slippers, Woody was escorting someone to the exit.  It was Tyler, the blond-haired, blue-eyed Adonis who had led my initiation on my first night at the Block estate. Amid the shuffling and shoving of the costumed guests, I tried to deny what I was seeing, but it was unmistakable. Both men appeared quite disheveled, Woody combing his hair out of his eyes with his fingers and Tyler struggling to button up his Levi’s and fasten his belt while hobbling on one foot as if he hadn’t quite gotten one shoe on fully. Then, I saw Tyler give Woody a kiss before he rushed off. By the time I got to the door, Tyler had already left the house and was driving away.

“Tyler.…” I said to Woody. “Where’s he going?”

“He had to fly back to San Francisco. He just came down to drop off some papers for Mr. Block to review.”

“He’s not coming back for the party?” I asked dejectedly.

“Afraid not,” sighed Woody. “Well, I’ve gotta run get dressed,” Woody asserted.

“That’s not your costume?” I asked half jokingly.

“Funny,” said Woody. “Very funny. Now go look after our guests while I get dressed.”

Woody and Tyler—the two men I had crushes on. It was ridiculous, I know. Woody had never shown the least bit of interest in me…not that way at least. And Tyler…I barely knew him. Actually, I didn’t know him at all except for that pounding he gave me that one night. Still, I could not deny the twinge of jealousy I felt. Problem is, I didn’t know if I was more jealous of Tyler or Woody. At that moment, I just wanted to fuck the shit out of somebody...anybody. I was so tempted to grab Jack and fuck him right there on the floor next to the piano, but I knew that wouldn’t really purge these counterproductive feelings.

If I had fucked Jack in the middle of the ballroom, I would not have been alone. The party had barely started, and men were already going at it left and right, inside the house and beside the pool and God knows where else. More than a few groped me and tried to get inside my jock strap. I was so tempted, but I had to remind myself that I was on duty that night, and my duties did not involve having sex with the guests.

And Jack didn’t need my dick anyway. He was doing just fine without it. There was no shortage of guests angling to tickle his fangs and drive their stakes into him.

I expected Mr. Block to enter the room dressed as William Shakespeare or Leonardo da Vinci, but he surprised me when he appeared as a hobo. On the one hand, it seemed silly since everyone knew he was loaded, but on the other hand, it was very fitting because he was a modest man, not given to ostentatious show.

Woody returned from his room in a football uniform. Actually, just as I was only partially dressed as a cowboy, he was only partly dressed as an athlete. He wore only shoulder pads, tennis shoes, and a jock strap. I suppose it goes without saying that he looked fucking hot. “Looking good,” he said to me as he approached. As if to accentuate the point, he took my cowboy hat and placed it on his own head.

Suddenly, it dawned on me. Woody could have been the model for Mike, the older brother, football player, and fitness model in Brock Archer’s story, Coming of Age. Or he could have been the inspiration for Jeremy Travis, the young rancher in Discoveries or Dusty in Dominated. Then it hit me. There were others. Was Rafael the model for Chico in Contradictions? And our trainer Hank—the analogy to Tank in Contradictions was too obvious to ignore. Was I living in a Brock Archer novel? Might I be a character in a future story? If so, what would I be like? Would I be an aspiring artist on the verge of a major breakthrough or a teenage loser who would never amount to anything?

“Are you OK?” Woody asked me. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost,” an ironic statement as two men dressed as apparitions walked past us.

After a brief pause, I came back down to Earth and replied, “Umm, yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking too much, I guess.”

With that, Woody reached into the strap of his athletic supporter and pulled out a small piece of paper that had been folded over several times. When he tucked it into the strap of my jock, I asked, “What’s this?”

“It’s Tyler’s phone number. Why don’t you call him tomorrow and tell him all about the party…and your trip to New York. I think he’d appreciate hearing from you.”

It’s not usually like me to be speechless, but at that moment I definitely was. “But…I thought you…” I stammered.

“Well, you just said you think too much, and if you’re not interested…” Woody chided as he reached into my jock strap and retrieved the piece of paper.

“No!” I shouted, gripping his hand a little more forcefully than I had intended, but before I could snatch the paper out of his hand, he pulled it away, gripped my hand, pulled the zipper of my jock all the way down, and tucked the paper up against my balls, practically daring me to react. He had never touched me like that before. The move shocked me but also sent chills and thrills up and down my spine.

We stared at each other for several seconds—what seemed like an eternity—before he reverted to the officious Woody I had come to expect. “Now get back to work before I change my mind and send you back to Georgia,” he snapped.

Zac’s duties as the evening’s entertainer officially ended at midnight, and there was no point in continuing anyway because half of the guests had gone home and the other half were fucking or getting fucked somewhere around the house.

Woody slipped Zac an envelope with more cash than they had agreed to. When Zac tried to return half of the money, Woody said, “Keep it. It’s a tip. You were good. You earned it.” Woody then told Zac he was free to go “or you can hang around and enjoy the party,” he said. “You’re free now too,” Woody said to me. “Go to bed…alone or with someone. You’ve earned the break.”

Jack, Zac’s twin brother, overhearing the conversation, approached us and suggested that we adjourn to my room for a “real party.” Now that was an offer I could not refuse.

I was really turned on by the idea of having sex with twins, especially two really hot twins such as Zac and Jack, but I wanted more. I wished that I had mirrors on my ceiling so I could watch them as we fucked. That’s when Zac suggested an idea. He pulled out the laptop that he had brought to the party and had me bring out mine. He also sent Jack to borrow laptops from Kim and Ron. Then, he set up the four laptops in different corners in the room and angled their cameras toward the bed. As we played naked in the bed, we recorded the whole thing.

Jack suggested double dipping. I had done double penetrations before with Mr. Sullivan back in Columbus, but I had always been one of the pitchers, never the catcher. What Jack was proposing was that he and his brother would both fuck me at the same time. “Fuck yeah!” I exclaimed. “Sounds fucking hot!”

Jack stretched out on the bed as I climbed on top of him and rode his dick like the cowboy I was dressed as. Zac came up behind me as I leaned forward and inserted his penis against his brother’s. For nearly half an hour, they alternated roles—one would remain still as the other pumped. Though I thoroughly enjoyed it, I wondered what it must feel like for them rubbing their dicks against each other’s as they fucked another dude, but they seemed to enjoy it as much as I did…if not more.

Maybe it was because they are twins, but I was surprised at how much in sync they were—even to the point that they erupted simultaneously, each one blasting his load deep inside me. It was enough to ignite my own orgasm as I spewed white lava all over Jack’s face and body.

.After we had rested for 20 minutes or so, I suggested that we go again, but with one of them on bottom this time. “Oh, we never do that,” protested Zac. “Fucking my brother? That would just be too kinky.”

So, Jack gathered up the four laptops and laid them out side by side so we could watch the whole show from all four angles. “This is so fucking cool,” I gushed.

“Yeah, but it’s gonna look even better when I get it all edited,” said Jack.

“You can do that?” I asked.

“Joe,” laughed Zac. “Jack has a degree from UCLA with a double major in computer graphics and TV production. He works as a freelancer, filming, editing, and producing videos like these for guys all over Southern California. They don’t trust straight guys with material like this, so they pay Jack top dollar to do the job and keep his mouth shut.”

“Yeah,” Jack confirmed. “Some of my clients are very well-known people in the entertainment business and even in politics, so I have to be very discreet.”

As I was fantasizing about watching the fully edited version of our very own porn video on the big screen downstairs, I heard what sounded like a siren. “What’s that?” I asked.

“Probably one of the guests downstairs had too much to drink and tripped over another guy zonked out on the floor. He probably just bumped his head or something.”

Still, I ran across the room to the staff lounge and looked out the window. Sure enough, it was an ambulance pulling up to the front door. I raced downstairs and looked out the front door just Woody was stepping into the wagon where the EMTs had loaded a gurney.

“What happened?” I asked Kim, who was standing beside the front door next to me. With a look of panic, he muttered, “It’s…it’s Mr. Block.”

To be continued