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    AntonEckhoff
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Twins Keeping Warm - 2. Chapter 2 - Coming to Terms

I don't know if I had ever slept as well as I did that night. The strong beating of my twin brother's heart filled in my ears when I drifted off and the reassuring thumping sustained my dreams. I have heard that some people like to listen to rainfall or the ocean when they go to bed; but to me, nothing could be as comforting as listing to the sound of Erik's heart.

The strong mechanical beating of his heart filled my ears, it was the feel of his warm chest against my face that truly made me feel connected to him. I slept with my head on top of his left pec, and my left hand on right side of his chest. I felt so safe, so secure in his arms; which wrapped around me in a vice-like grip. I couldn't have moved, even if I had wanted to. I was held firmly against his body, in a warm cocoon of pure, unadulterated, love.

In our sleep our legs had become hopelessly intertwined. If a person were to look under the warm duvet, he would have no idea which limb belonged to whom. Together, Erik and I were one.

At around 10.00 the phone rang, taking us out of our sleeping world and into the real one. It was a cold world outside; but inside the heat was back on and it was warm inside our small cabin. If we stayed in, we wouldn't have to face the blinding white coldness of the sea of snow outside our safe haven.

I managed to escape Erik's warm embrace and got to the phone on the 6th ring.

`Hello,' I said.

`Hey, kid,' it was Dad. Mum and Dad never had any problem telling Erik and I apart by looking at us, despite years of our fruitless efforts to fool them. They said it was parental intuition; but it fell short when it came to talking on the phone. No one could tell which of us was speaking by voice alone so whenever they rang us, they would give us some kind of
generic greeting, like `hey, kid' so as now to draw attention to it. Dad didn't mean it in a derogatory way; his greeting was full of affection and love.

`Hi, Dad, what's the craic?'

`Do, you want the good news, or the bad news first?'

`Let's start with the good news.'

`The power is back on.'

`Oh, wow, thanks for that brilliant insight dad,' I said in a joking way, `I hadn't deduced that from the fact that we are talking on the phone. Thanks for the heads-up.'

`Shut it, Anton.' I have always been the cheeky twin, so that little quip was enough for Dad to know which of us he was talking to.

`Seriously, though, I'm glad the heat is back on,' I said.

`Aye, did you two survive the cold last night?'

`Yeah, we just slept in the same bed and it worked out okay.'

I didn't think there was much need to go into exactly how well it worked out. I didn't think my father would really like to know that my secret to surviving the night was getting tugged off and then filled with Erik's warm seamen. There are, perhaps, somethings that are better left unsaid.

`Brilliant. See, aren't you glad I made you two do scouts.'

`No, not really, I always hated scouts.'

`Yeah, I know; but it was character forming.'

`Whatever,' even over the phone I'm sure my dad could tell I was rolling my eyes. The Boy Scouts had always been a point of contention. I utterly loathed going to those dull meetings when I was a kid. `So, when do we get to hit the slopes? I want to drink hot chocolate in the chalet whist we watch Erik try to manage on his stupid snowboard.'

`Well, I suppose that brings us to the bad news. I don't think we will be drinking that hot chocolate today.'

`No, seriously, Erik can't snowboard nearly as well as we can ski. It will take him ages to get down the mountain. It will be brilliant.'

`Look out the window, Anton.'

The phone in the cabin was one of the old-style ones with a cord that wrapped in on itself. I was tethered to the wall as I tried to make it to the window. The curtain felt cold against my fingertips as I pulled back the fabric revealing a white wall behind the translucent window.

`Hell's bells,' I said.

`Yeah, it looks like we are snowed in. The concierge from the main hotel called me just now to say they will try to dig us out as soon as possible; but that might not be until this evening. Hopefully we will be able to get together for dinner.'

`Brilliant,' I said with my characteristic sarcasm.

`Yeah, sorry mate. I think there are several DVDs in the room so you guys can at least watch some films.'

`Yeah, alright, talk to you later.'

`Cheers, then.'

`Love you, Dad.'

I hung up the phone and walked back into the bedroom. Erik was still lying in bed, but his crystal blue eyes were open. The duvet was pulled down to his waist and I could see clear definition of his finely developed muscles in the dim light of the room. I told him about being snowed in and that we would be stuck inside for the whole day. I put on my tartan sleeping trousers, but didn't bother putting on a top. The heat was now coursing through the cabin and I had no intention of turning it down. After not working last night, I had no qualms about running up the heating bill for the hotel. I told Erik I was needing fed, so was going to make breakfast. I left my brother in the bedroom.

I walked into the open plan kitchen and began my search for food. It looked a bit bleak. Most of the food for our week-long trip was kept in our parent's cabin. In fact, all we had were the snacks we had brought on the plane with us and whatever food was leftover from whoever had hired the cabin before we got there. I was looking through the pantry when I heard Erik walk into the lounge.

`Would it have killed you to have put some pants on?' I asked.

`What? It's nothing you haven't seen before.'

That made me laugh, `was that meant to be a double entendre or was it a pathetic pun?'

`Which would make me seem cleverer?' Erik asked, unable to suppress the sly grin that spread across his lips.

`I can't believe you passed English.'

`You're the one who tutored me.'

`You were the most insolent child I have ever had the misfortune to teach,' I said.

`Thank you.'

`You're pointless, repetitious and extremely dull.'

`A bit like Shakespeare,' he said, finishing the quote from our favourite Lauren Cooper sketch. `So, what's for breakfast, then?' Erik asked.

`You're not going to like it. All I can find that is quasi-breakfast related are eggs.' Erik detests eggs in all of their manifestations.

`Seriously?' he said.

Erik walked over to the kitchen with the self-assured swagger of a businessman wearing a £1500 Armani suit. Of course, Erik wasn't wearing anything at all; but his aura exudes confidence. I watched as his perfectly developed muscles propelled him forward. He is pretty slim, but that only makes the movement of his muscles seem more exaggerated.

He bent down and started looking through the bottom cabinets. I could see the muscles of his back budge and strain at the slight effort I took for him to open the small wooden doors and sift through the various items therein.

I can't say that I was turned on watching him. He really does look just like me, or to put it another way; I know that I look like him. So, for me to sit and think, wow, Erik is really good-looking just does not seem right because I look exactly the same as he does. It would be akin to looking at yourself in the mirror and getting aroused by your own reflection. Sometimes, you might look in the mirror and think you look good, and I feel that way sometimes when I look at Erik; but never would I actually be turned on by him.

`Bollocks,' Erik said and moved to the other side of the counter and sat down looking at me.

`Sorry, mate,' I said, `but, how about I put some special spices in your eggs; maybe you'll like them.'

`I doubt it. I'm going to go brush my teeth.'

Erik left and I set about making breakfast. I had decided that I would spunk into his eggs before scrambling them. I know, it is puerile and crass; but whatever, I am 16, cut me some slack and besides, I was looking forward to seeing his expression when I told him what I had done and I had to do something to make this dissappointing morning more exciting.

I quickly lowered my trousers and pulled out my cock, which was already semi-erect from just thinking about spunking in Erik's eggs. I got myself hard and began to furiously stroke my shaft; I had to finish before he returned. I spat in my left hand and allowed to it glide up and down my stiffening prick. When I reached my glans it sent little shutters of ecstasy down my cock. I closed my eyes and focused on the pleasure that was emanating from my rod. I used my right hand to gently squeeze my bollocks. I could feel my orgasm building and I stood up on my toes once I felt my entire body begin to stiffen in preparation for the oncoming orgasm.

Then it struck me like a lorry hitting me with its full force. The power of my orgasm almost sent me toppling to the ground. I barely had the cognisance to put the bowl in front of my pulsating cock; but I was able to capture all of my spunk. I quickly regained my wits and pulled my trousers back up.

I took two eggs and cracked them into the mixing bowl and added milk. Just then, Erik walked in, still naked, and sat at the counter.

I turned to the hob and began to make his scrambled eggs. He came up behind me and poured himself a glass of orange juice. His fingers gently swept over the small of my back as he walked past me to the refrigerator. I finished with his eggs and put them on a plate for him, slid it in front of him, and set about making my breakfast.

Begrudgingly, Erik began to eat the eggs.

`Anton,' he said, `these are really good. What did you put in them?'

`You mean that even an egg curmudgeon like you likes these.'

`Alright, I admit it: these are brilliant. What's different about them?'

`I don't think mum uses the same ingredients as I did.'

`What did you use that she doesn't'

`Well,' I said, turning to face him, `I don't think mum mixes my spunk with the eggs and milk.'

`What!'

`Yeah, I thought my cum would give it a little extra kick that I reckoned you would enjoy.'

Erik's face turned an ashen colour and then he looked down at his half-eaten eggs and he couldn't suppress the smile that slowly grow over his mouth.

`You cheeky bastard,' he half-mumbled.

`What can I say, I learned from the best,' I said and tipped an imaginary hat.

`And you were the most insolent child I have ever had the misfortune to teach.'

`Thanks!' I said, a bright smile beaming across my face. Somehow, my smug smile extended even further across my lips as I watched Erik continue to eat the eggs.

I returned to the hob and finished with my eggs and turned to eat them. Erik and I talked for a while, just standing in the kitchen and then swapped places. I sat in the tall chair he had occupied and watched as he cleaned the dishes. He turned his back to me and I looked at his tight, sculptured arse as he washed the pot and bowls. He had long, skinny legs that culminated in a perfectly formed small bubblebutt. Looking at his, I tried to imagine what mine had looked when he was pounding his thick cock into it last night. It was, of course, totally dark so even Erik didn't really know what it looked like when he was thrusting his pulsating prick in and out of me. Thinking about it made me oddly aroused and I excused myself to go take a shower.

I stepped out of my tartan trousers and walked to the shower nude. I turned on the shower and the room quickly filled with steam. I tested the water and stepped inside.

The steam filled my lungs and I inhaled deeply. The hot air felt soothing and I turned my back to the water that shot out from the wall to let it flow down my back. The pressure of the water was focused on the nape of my neck but I could feel the pressure across the back of my broad shoulders. I looked up at the ceiling and let the water fall against the top of my forehead. It saturated my hair, but I could feel it reach my scalp. It's odd that such fast flowing water could be so soothing. Usually you would like that something would need to be slow and steady, like the beating of Eik's heart had been last night, in order to be calming; but there is something about the fast moving water of a warm shower that can have a peaceful affect on a person. I felt at ease with the water raining down on me.

I ran my fingers through my wet hair and turned to face the facet. The water hit my chest, right on my nipples making them hard. The warm, soothing, water ran quickly down my chest, following the grooves of my abs. It rushed down the centre, with speed and alacrity like the great flows of water that cave out canyons from flat plains of earth. The water cut down through my stomach and washed up against my manicured pubic hairs. Some of the water continued still and flowed down the shaft of my limp penis. I closed my eyes and let the water flow down my slim and toned body.

Then there was a hand.

The arm grasped me around the middle, but the hand was placed firmly against my nipple. It pulled me back and I felt the collision of my back against a firm, hard chest. A second arm wrapped around me. And I felt a tongue reach out and pull on my earlobe. Then teeth gentle and moist nibbled on the cartilage of my ear.

`You were taking way too long in here,' Erik's whispered voice echoed against my eardrum. Like the warm water, it soothed and calmed me. Using his tongue, teeth and lips he manipulated my ear. Then he inclined his head and his lips found my neck. Gently he kissed and sucked on my neck. The sensation was amazing. It is so rare that a person is touched on their neck; people hold hands, hug, kiss on the cheeks, even slap another's arse; but there is something different about touching someone's neck. It is a place so few people go, a sacred place touched only by special people.

The forbidden sensation drove me into throngs of passion. Erik continued to kiss and suck his way up and down my sensitive neck whilst the warm water beat down on my chest and ran down my stomach.

His right hand held me against his chest; his strong arms, an unbreakable grip. I would ever escape from Erik's passionate embrace. His left hand migrated down my body. First it traced each of the muscles that comprised my 6-pack. One finger went around each muscle, and then the palm of his hand stroked my stomach. His mouth had returned to my ear and in addition to the licking and gentle sucking of my earlobe, I would hear his low breath as he exhaled. I closed my eyes, and swallowed the spit that had been accumulating in my mouth and could feel my muscles relax onto him. His strong powerful arms supported me, holding me up against the unconquerable forces of gravity.

His lips and tongue returned to my neck as he wrapped his left hand around my throbbing prick. His touch sent sock waves all over my body. Then he began to trace the blue veins that buldged from my shaft with his extended finger. His chin now rested atop my shoulder, and his eyes were downcast, looking at my shaft as he traced the swollen lines that ran from the base to the tip. I'd never really noticed before, but the veins on Erik's hands looked a little different from mine. They stuck out at different places, and went in slightly different directions.

After he was done tracing each of the veins than lined my thick shaft he began to stoke in earnest. His lips returned to my earlobe, but his biting was a bit stronger this time.

His left hand, lubricated by the warm falling water swiftly glided over my pulsating shaft.

Up.

Down.

Up.

Down.

Each time he finished a stroke it brought an incalculable about of joy to my stiff prick. The feelings of pure pleasure took over my nervous system and sent jolts of electricity throughout my body. I felt as if I was being consumed by the joyous feelings that emanated from my throbbing member. My eyes rolled back into my head as I felt my orgasms consume me. If Erik had not been holding me against his hard body so firmly, I would have fallen onto the floor of the shower. I expelled gobs of seamen all over the shower wall. With each explosion, I was sure I would pass out from the pleasure; but I stood erect, mostly because of Erik's undying embrace. Finally, my orgasm subsided and I stood trying to catch my breath. I spun around and looked into the dark blue pools of blue in Erik's eyes.

I couldn't speak. I lifted my hand and ran it through Erik's long blonde hair and pulled his face close to mine and kissed him on the lips. I went slowly at first. Then allowed my tongue to enter into his warm mouth. Being the same height, Erik and I were able to share the kind of passionate kiss that most people can only experience when they are lying in bed.

The water beat down on my back, and I continued my onslaught. My tongue ran over Erik's sparkling white teeth. I could feel the warm air he exhaled as it went up against the back of my throat. Erik received my kiss, and continued to hold me in his embrace; but his tongue did not enter my mouth.

I took my hand, and ran it down his smooth, lean, body until it reached the base of his throbbing cock. I wrapped my fingers around his thick shaft.

`You don't have to do that,' Erik said. A smile flickered across his lips and his hand took mine and placed it against his chest. He pressed his lips to mine, and kissed me. `You should probably get dried off and dressed,' he said. His intoxicating smile shone on my eyes and I smiled back.

`You sure?' I asked.

`Yeah, don't worry about it. I didn't do it because I wanted something in return.'

I smiled back at my twin brother and stepped out of the shower, leaving him alone with the warm water beating down on his glistening body. I took a towel from the rack and dried myself as I walked back to our bedroom.

I found my tartan trousers and put them back on. I sat on the side of my bed and my face fell into my hands. What had just happened?I didn't know how to process this; I didn't know what sort of feelings I was having. I know it is cliché; but how could something that feels so good be so wrong. I can't continue to do sexual things with my twin brother, it was wrong. I know it was wrong; but I had this feeling when I was with him. When he touched me, it was like nothing I had ever felt before. All of the girls I had been with could never compare to the feelings I had when Erik laid his strong hands on me. I knew that I could never feel as safe and happy as I did last night when I slept in his arms. But it couldn't be right. It just wasn't. I sat on that bed, brooding and thinking it all over for probably 10 or 15 minutes.

When I emerged from my self-imposed exile, I found Erik sitting in front of the fire. He had laid his towel down and was sitting on top of it with his legs crossed and his face buried in his hands. I realised he was sitting exactly the same way I had been.

I could see the deeply defined muscles of his back and his finely sculpted arse. I sat down beside him. He was still facing the fire, but my body was oriented towards him. I could see his limp penis in profile and looked into his eye, the one that was facing me. It was red and looked as if he had been crying.

`Hey, Erik, are you okay?' I asked.

`I'm really sorry, Anton, I really am.'

I placed my hands on Erik's knee and made him turn around so that he was facing me. Because we were both sitting with our legs crossed, our knees touched when he finally faced be straight on. His eyes were both scarlet red, he had been crying. He looked as if he was trying to speak, but his mouth wouldn't form words. I reached out my arms and pulled him into me, so that his forehead rested against my shoulder.

It didn't take long, after feeling the warmth of his head against my shoulder, that I felt the cold of his tears as they streamed down his face. Each of his tears that dripped down my chest was like a dagger being ripped through my flesh. It killed me that he was so upset. Nothing could possibly make me feel worse than knowing that Erik was in pain.

I wanted to comfort him, I wanted to make his pain stop; but I didn't speak yet. I didn't want to interrupt him. I just knew that these were deep seated feelings that needed to leak out his body. It was like sucking poison from a snake bite, the feelings he felt had to come out of his body and I had to let them; no matter how painful it was for me. If I told him to stop crying, if I told him everything was alright he wouldn't believe me. He would think I was just trying to make him feel better, I had to let this horrible scene play out; I had to just sit there and be strong for him.

Over his cries I could hear him try to form sentences, but they only came out as single, disembodied words.

`sorry'

`shouldn't have done that'

`wrong'

`to you'

`sorry'

And my name. He said it over and over.

`Anton'

`sorry'

`Anton'

`Anton'

As he wept, I rubbed my hand over his back, trying to sooth him. It was funny, not ten minutes ago I sat alone on our room thinking these same thoughts; but it was only now that I came to realise that they must be compounded for Erik because he was the one who initiated it last night and in the shower. He was they one who caused our relationship to be forever altered. I continued to rub his back and I placed the side of my face next to his.

And we sat there, our crossed legs touching at the knees, his forehead upon my shoulder, my face touching the side of his, and my hands rubbing his back. Finally the crying stopped, but his breathing was heavy and laboured. This was my cue.

`Erik,' I whispered in his ear, `I love you.'

My lips brushed against the side of his ear, and the words reverberated against his eardrum.

`You are the most important person in the world to me. If I woke up one day and found that everyone I knew was gone, I would be devastated. I would be gutted if mum, dad all of my mates were gone. I would cry for days, months, maybe even years. It would be horrible. But one day, I would move one. I would always miss mum and dad, but I would make new mates and one day at a time I would move on with my life. But, if I woke up one day and you were gone- I would die. There would be no moving on; there would be no point my living. I would never be able to live without you in my life.

I took my hands and lifted Erik's head from my shoulder so that I could look into his blue eyes. I started at his face, twisted in pain and confusion. I used my thumbs to wipe the tears away. I focused on his eyes; nothing in the world existed apart from the sad blue pits in my twin brother's face.

`If I was in a grand room, with everyone I have ever known. Friends, family, ex-girlfriends, everyone who has ever mattered in my life- I would be alone if you weren't there too.'

Erik's lips parted and a meek smile sluggishly rolled across his teeth.

`Don't you get it; we are too close to be separated. We are part of each other. My soul, my very being, is interweaved with yours. I didn't know how to feel when we did those things. I knew, on some level, it was wrong; but in another way it felt so natural. It felt like it was the way it was meant to be. I feel more complete when I am with you, touching you, being intermixed with you than I ever do alone. I don't think I will ever be compete without being with you in that physical and emotional way.'

Erik was smiling in earnest now. I could see light and happiness radiating from his eyes. It looked like his entire face was aglow.

`Thank you, Erik, for being gallus enough to make me see how close I am to you.'

Erik's smile couldn't be contained. It looked like the first rays of the sun, crowning over the peeks of a mountain on a winter's day. It was a smile of triumph, of love, of new beginnings. And then he kissed me. It was like no kiss I have ever had.

It was more than two lips sharing the same place. It was more than the pleasure my nerve endings sent to the synapses of my brain. It was something all together different. I felt a connection I had never felt before when his lips pressed against mine and his tongue gently slipped into my mouth. He took his hand and placed it behind my head, running his
long, nimble, fingers through my thick blonde hair. My hand continued to rub his back, but with greater passion this time.

He inclined his head and began to give me a love bite. Blood rushed to my neck and I could feel the pressure of his teeth against my neck.

`Mate, you are going to give me a hickey.'

`I know,' he said, `its just when we leave this cabin, I want to be able to look at you and know that this all didn't just happen in my head.'

I smiled and Erik continued his work on my neck. The sensation was great, tremendous. His teeth gently pressing against my tender flesh made my cock start to rise in my soft trousers. I felt Erik's mouth leave my neck and I gently pushed him to the ground. I moved to my side and he did the same.

The fire continued to roar behind us. The two of us lay there, side by side, looking into each other's eyes. It was so strange, to look into a pair of eyes so similar to my own, but to feel something to different. It was like looking into a dark pond, teeming with life. I could feel Erik's hands pulling my trousers down. I lifted up my hips to allow him easier access. I felt as they dropped around my ankles and then his hand wrapped itself around my cock, which was now hard as a steel pole. His eyes never left mine; his gaze was unbroken as his strong hand began to slide up and down my shaft.

I, in turn, took hold of Erik's massive penis and pulled the foreskin back to reveal his bell-end which leaked pre-cum like a broken pipe. I could feel the hot, sticky, clear liquid and began to liberally rub it over the tip of his throbbing cock. With great alacrity, I retracted his foreskin; gently pulling and tugging it.

Erik smiled, knowing that I was enjoying the experience of playing with a foreskin (our parents had decided to leave me uncircumcised). He continued to stoke my shaft and sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body.

I began to stoke Erik's hard shaft in earnest. My eyes were fixed on his face and I could see a ravenous passion behind his eyes. His audible panting sent shivers down my spine. He eyes were an encapsulation of pleasure. Up and down, we both stroked; feeling the build up and tightening of our bollocks.

His fingers roughly squeezed my bell-end before retreating down my long shaft. Heat emanated from my groin; but it was augmented by the blazing fire behind us. Erik's eyes were still fixed upon mine. Never moving, never blinking, the feelings of pleasure were readable on his irises. His lips turned up in a moan which came from deep within him. Louder he groaned. His hips busted up against mine. I could feel the emergence of my orgasm.

It built deep within the pit of my stomach. Every muscle in my body began to tighten and tense in preparation for the imminent eruption.

Erik's face with nothing but a mask of pleasure pulled over the passion that burned within his soul. His eyes had yet to blink, had yet to leave my gaze. They were fixed on me as a final moan escaped from his lips.

I felt the warmth of cum as it stuck violently against my stomach. One, two, three, I lost count. I don't know how many sweet volleys of burning hot semen were ejected from my stiff prick. Then I came to realise, it was not my spunk I felt on my stomach; It was Erik's.

We had climaxed at precisely the same moment and the force of our ejaculations had launched our respective loads onto the other's stomach. It was Erik's warm seed that was now dripping its way through the deep grooves of my abs.

Instinctively, we moved our bodies closer together and our lips found each other- the first parts of our body to make contact.

Gently Erik bit my lower lip as we moved closer. When out stomachs touched, our semen mixed together and was pressed between our hot bodies. Our legs intertwined and our arms wrapped around pulling us closer than anyone could have thought possible. In this place, lying in front of the fire with our lips pressed together: we were one

Copyright © 2011 AntonEckhoff; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Well I feel a little better about the schools here after finding a few errors. Good thing too Anton, I was beginning to feel a bit deficient over your perfect grammar. this story continues to capture the heart and fuel the feelings of passion. And that my dear boy is what "good" writing is supposed to do.

 

Anyone can write a story, but it takes an author to flesh the characters so well and then to personify them to such a degree that the reader can escape into them. into the story and be liberated from their current state of disbelief.

 

You maintain that bubble of fantasy and leave them breathlessly looking to turn the page. Well done.

 

Excuse me now, while I do just that; turn the page! :D

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