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DONALD AND TOM'S EXCELLENT BIG CITY ADVENTURE

Posted by: SoloTouchArchive Author: admin Posted on: 15 Mar 2000 1 comments
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by Tom It all began on a lazy Saturday morning, just the sort of warm, directionless morning meant for sleeping in late. Donald and I had been doing exactly that until the brilliant glow of the new day waiting outside gradually woke us. Stretching and yawning, we continued our sleepy snuggling until it was obvious our insistent morning hardons were demanding their share of attention. We pushed the sheet down past our feet and let the golden sunlight streaming through the windows bathe our bodies in its warm radiance. We began the secret morning ritual favored by gay teenboys since the dawn of time: mutually slow-jacking each other while communicating in hushed, panting whispers. Suddenly, Donald got an inspiration "Ever been naked in a water bed while another guy does it to you?" "No.... have you?" "Wanna try it? Darren and Kenny have already gone out. Let's do it in their bed!" Donald was up and off our bed without a further word, tugging at my arm. "Darren says it makes things get so hot. He and Kenny get a kind of rhythm going...." "What if they come back?" "They've gone to the city. They won't be back until late tonight. Come on!" We were out the door, running naked down the hall, with our questing boners bobbing joyously in anticipation of a sensual waterbed jackoff. Donald threw open the door to Darren's inner sanctum, and there it was, the high altar of sexual pleasure, the water bed. Though the bed was unmade, with blankets and pillows scattered amidst aromatic piles of sweaty castoff T shirts, jock straps and underwear, there was an overwhelming sense of intimate male sexuality that made it all incredibly erotic. Donald found a towel under one of the pillows. It was heavy with the dampness of male fluids. He inhaled it deeply. "Wow. You can still smell their jizz! They must have gotten off huge loads last night!" We handed the towel back and forth, filling our lungs with that heavenly aroma, until we both had become incredibly horny. As we imagined Darren and Kenny might do it, we dove between the gooey sheets and french-kissed with complete abandon. Caressing thumbs and fingers worked their magic below. In a matter of seconds, the climax was upon us. If the sheets had been gooey before, now they were wet and gooey! "Shouldn't we clean this up?" Donald stretched and yawned again. "Naw. Sperm's sperm. How'll they know?" We used their towel to clean ourselves a bit, then we held hands and relaxed. Donald noticed a newspaper on the nightstand and began leafing through it. It was an edition of something called "The Bed and Barhopper". He quickly became very interested in it. "What's 'The Bed and Barhopper'?" I asked. I leaned around and read the classified ads on the back page. Men with very interesting measurements were seeking other men. "It's a newspaper Kenny picks up in the city," Donald answered, his nose still deep in the pages. "It's news and gossip about guys who like guys there. Look! They even have a chorus!" Donald showed me their group photo. I leaned in for a closer look. "Wow! They all have sex with each other and they STILL have time to give concerts!?" Then, on the opposite page, we saw the ad. "Limited engagement," Donald read aloud. "First run showing in 3-D with Sexaroundsound and Smellorama "Boys in Heat" starring Pan Asian sexual wonder, Johnny Dong." "Who's Johnny Dong?" "Dunno." Donald read on. "Johnny Dong, holder of twenty certified sexual dimension and performance records and the free world's leading exponent of sexual karate, makes his cinematic debut in the feel-good movie of the year." "Sexual karate??" "Yeah. It says he starts whirling around and can knock guys senseless with his cock!" "Oh wow!" "Wherever gay men are being attacked, Johnny Dong turns up to defend them! He has but to unzip his pants and the attackers run for their lives! They all fear Johnny Dong!" "Wow! Wouldn't THAT be something to see!?" Donald thought for a moment. "Why not?" he said finally. "Let's go! The bus'll get us there in an hour! We've got money for tickets! Let's do it!" Donald jumped out of bed. "But the paper says adults only....." "We're adults....almost. We can fake it. Come on!!" Donald pulled me out of bed. "Let's hit the shower. I'm getting horny again just thinking about Johnny Dong's dong!" So as simple as that, within an hour we were on board a speeding intercity bus, off on our Great Adventure to see the "feel-good movie of the year", "Boys in Heat"! The theater was five blocks from the bus terminal in a shabby part of town. We ran the distance only to find ourselves a half-block short of our goal at the tail end of the line of guys waiting for the box office to open. We knew we'd found the right theater. Johnny Dong posters were plastered everywhere on the walls, all with lavender printed notices advising that additional copies were to be placed on sale in the lobby. "Wow," Donald exulted, "Will you look at that CROTCH! Is that all HIM in there?!!" Then a pleasing voice behind us asked a question. "Excuse me, are you guys brothers?" I turned and felt myself melting on the inside like ice cream left out in the sun. Our questioner was our age and size but there the similarity stopped. The blue-eyed, wavy haired blond boy I saw was either a god or very high on the waiting list to become one. Donald turned to look. His mouth fell open. "Yes we are, " he lied without hesitation. "I thought so!" the god rejoiced. "You look so much alike! It's really amazing!" Another boy at the god's right hand was also closely scrutinizing Johnny Dong's crotch. I asked ".And are you two brothers?" and realized as he turned to face us what a stupid question that was. Yes, obviously they were brothers! They were twins, totally identical twins! If one of them had been making passersby turn their heads to look in admiration, the two of them together were slowing traffic in the street! "You guys will never get into the theater dressed like that," god number one observed. "We'll help disguise you!" god number two added. "We haven't a moment to lose!" They ducked out of line and began moving up and down the row of waiting Johnny Dong fans. With all the charm and guile that nature gives the truly beautiful that walk among us, they borrowed a selection of slouch hats, thick eyeglasses and frumpy coats and quickly returned. By then, the entire line was in on the deception being hatched. Everyone smiled, chuckled and nudged each other as the gods began our "makeover". The Work was finished just as the box office opened and the line began to move. "What do you think?" number one asked his counterpart. Number two studied us for a moment before responding. His answer was a bit dubious. "Well......they're OK.... I guess... but we'd better buy the tickets for all of us. We'll treat you guys. At the ticket booth, just stand to one side and try to look really old and tired." Thanks to the stunning distraction the twins were for the male ticket seller, it worked. We gained entrance to the dark, dampish lobby of the shrine dedicated to the free world's exponent of sexual karate, Johnny Dong! After they returned the borrowed apparel to the smiling smitten owners, the twins led us to seats of their choosing. Donald and I sat in the middle, flanked by a twin on each side. Suddenly, it seemed we were double-dating. We introduced ourselves and learned immediately that the godtwins had been cheated by their unperceptive parents, being stuck with the rhyming, extremely earthbound names of "Ronnie" and "Donnie". Telling them apart was impossible. Fortunately, Donnie and Donald had paired off, making it easy to remember that the one on my left was Ronnie. The film began with a scene in a dark, foggy alley. A brutish man was brandishing a baseball bat and chasing a small terrified boy. Suddenly a figure in black jumped from a rooftop and landed with the triumphant cry, "I AM JOHNNY DONG!!" He unzipped his pants and began whirling. The bat was splintered and the would-be attacker fled. The tearfully grateful boy and Johnny Dong began having hot sex right there in the alley. "Wow, oh wow!!" whispered Donald. "How can the kid take all that without choking?" "Boys in Heat" was filled with supremely compelling cinematic moments. We ducked and screamed every time the 3-D image of Johnny Dong's magnificent member whistled through the air above our heads. During the nude love scenes, we flinched and cowered as his enormous leaping ejaculation seemed to drench the entire second balcony. Yet as stunning as the spectacular feats of sexual karate might be, it all was becoming tiresome and repetitive as the movie progressed. More and more, our attention began to wander. I felt a light touch on my left leg. Slowly, almost inperceptibly, Ronnie's hand was settling on my knee. With equal stealth, I let my hand settle gently over his, cautiously taking hold. His little finger began tickling the inside of my leg. Donald slyly nudged me. I looked. He and Donnie were holding hands too, their thumbs slowly intertwirling. Ronnie's restless hand moved my suddenly curious fingers into the warm secret place between his legs. The unzipped throbbing hardness I found waiting for me there set my pulse pounding as nothing on the screen could have. To my right, I heard another zipper softly being worked and knew their action was growing hot too. Donald's legs suddenly straightened and went stiff. I knew from my own experience that Donnie had found the secret spot under Donald's cockhead that turned him into an instantly obediant sex slave. By the time the film finished and the house lights came up, we were kissing and groping with such total abandon, we scarcely noticed we were becoming a sex show ourselves. "Hey guys," an usher pleaded. "Don't do it in here! Go rent a room someplace, willya?" We pulled ourselves together as best we could and made our shaky exit. The four of us stood out on the sidewalk, trembling with unconsummated lust, waiting for suggestions. "Guys, you just can't get on that bus and go home tonight! Ronnie pleaded earnestly. "Don't leave us like this when there's so much more of the town we've got to show you!" "Yes, yes!" Donnie chimed in, "Please say you'll stay with us tonight... all night!" Donald's head bobbed up and down like a cheap broken toy. He was still a sex slave. "You will? YOU WILL?" the twingods rejoiced in unison. The two Donalds giggled, embraced and spun madly among the startled ticket buyers that had begun to gather for the second showing. A sudden idea came to Ronnie. He stopped the whirling dervishes. "Hey, Donnie, y'know what'd really be FUN?" "Let's dress the guys like TWINS!" "YES! Oh PLEASE guys, let us do it!" Donnie begged. "Our dad owns a clothing shop right near here! We've never made it with twins before. It would make us get sooo hot!" "Right near here" was ten blocks away. Panting and puffing, we ran the entire distance in the rain that had begun to fall. We were soaking wet and disheveled by the time we burst through the elegant front door of what had to be the finest men's clothing store in town. The salesman rolled his eyes up in horror as the dripping twins ran up and down the aisles, loudly making their selections on the fly. With that done, they led us to the changing booths. The two Donalds went into one. Ronnie and I stepped into the other. "Donnie and I are buying new clothes too," Ronnie whispered. "The clothes we got on are too wet to wear. Come on. Let's get out of these things and into something dry." Ronnie and I took off our shirts, shoes and trousers. Then he felt the hem of my T-shirt. "We'd better get these off as well, socks too. I've got everything we'll need in the bag." With our T-shirts off, the unearthly vision of godtwin Ronnie's smooth and luminous physique exploded in my brain. He was naked but for a pair of skimpy shorts, the fabric so sheer and clinging I could already tell his bulky cock was circumcised. New clothes were forgotten as we stared, watching our growing hardons straining to be free. A thrill that was almost electrical surged through me as he drew me into his arms and kissed me. My pulse was pounding like a jackhammer. "What about our shorts?" I whispered. "Don't worry. I'll take care of the shorts." Ronnie dropped to his knees in front of me. I felt a gentle tug, stepped free and knew I was completely naked. A warm, surging wet-ness engulfed my cockhead and my brain reeled with the shock. I let my fingers explore the texture of Ronnie's golden silky hair as my shaky, unsupporting legs turned to rubber. Then the spell was broken. The lights in the store began flashing off and on. "Oh-h-h Girls-s-s-s!" a musical, sarcastically cheerful voice echoed out in the empty store. "It's closing-g-g time! Drain 'em dry-y-y and zip 'em up. The party's over-r-r-r!" Ronnie looked up and grinned. "That OLD QUEEN is such a BITCH!" he said loudly. We heard wicked laughter and the lights flashed some more. Ronnie pretended to be annoyed as we rushed to get our new clothes on, but soon enough I realized the salesman was an old friend, very much used to the practical jokes the minds of twins can conceive. He inspected our outfits. "Very good Ronnie! Very good Donnie! You have shown excellent taste both in clothes and young men! May I suggest for the gentlemen's night on the town you're planning that you consider the purchase of raincoats and umbrellas?" Ronnie signed the bill with an extravagant flourish. The salesman bid us a fond good-night and we were out the door, standing in the misty gloom as the store lights went out. While the twins made their plans for our evening, Donald edged close and nudged me in a way that told me he had a Very Big Secret he was willing to whisper into my ear. "You won't BELIEVE what happened! He had me NAKED in there and got me hard as a brick! He was SUCKING ME OFF when the lights started flashing and we had to go!" Though I pretended surprise, I'd learned by then that identical twins always think alike. Ronnie and Donnie finished their conferring and we were off, ready for all the fun and excitement a Saturday night in the big city was sure to hold for us. While we walked, we learned our destination was a hotel seven blocks away in the middle of the entertainment district. They knew a friendly bellhop there by the name of "Little John" who sometimes let boys he knew use basement roomettes normally held in reserve for unexpected guests. Whether the purpose was sleeping or homosex mattered little to "Little John", it seemed. Deeper in the district, the shops and bars began to turn both tawdry and fascinating. In one window, lit with slowly alternating red, pink and lavender lights, a stunningly slender young man danced to music from a shrill loudspeaker. He wore only a very frayed, semi-revealing jockstrap. We stared wide-eyed at his masculine beauty. A sign in the window advised us that inside, all the waiters were completely naked and the third drink was free. "Hey guys, couldn't we sorta.....?" Donald lagged back, suddenly tempted by the idea of having a drink served by a naked waiter. Donnie eased him away from the temptation. "I've got something MUCH better in mind for you," he reminded him, "..and I won't be wearing a jockstrap when you get it!!" Drinks and naked waiters were quickly forgotten. Further on, the sidewalks were crowded with people . Handsome young men with no apparent place to go were loitering, leaning against the storefronts, furtively eyeing the pedestrians going by. One muscular young man softly whistled at us and tipped his cap. "High rent boys!" he said as he looked us over appraisingly. He seemed very friendly. "Thank you!" said Donald, bowing slightly. The young man looked somewhat confused. "What's a high rent boy?" I asked Donald when he caught up with us. "Dunno, but it sounded like a compliment so I thanked him." Both Ronnie and Donnie staggered and exploded in giggling laughter. "Don't you guys know ANYTHING? He didn't say 'high rent boy'! He said 'Hi! Rent Boy!'" Ronnie waved his hand until we finally understood the phrase had been only a friendly greeting. "So, what's a 'rent boy' then?" I asked. The twin's giggling laughter burst out anew. "You mean you don't KNOW?" Donnie gasped in amazement. "A 'RENT BOY' is for HIRE! Horny old men come down here and pick them out to take home and have SEX with them. They charge so much by the hour depending on what kind of sex they'll do." "...And he thought that we....that DONALD AND I WERE......e-e-e-e-EWWWW!!!!" "Yeah," Ronnie nodded, "Rent boys! Just like him. What else could he think? You guys are young, very good looking and well dressed. Horny old men would really go for you!" "I wonder what we'd get per hour?" Donald mused aloud. He didn't seem to be joking. Luckily, we arrived at the hotel then. The twins took no chances and quickly spirited us off the street before Donald could start picking up customers. The two Donalds and I sat in the faded elegance of the lobby while Ronnie had a hushed conference with Little John behind a sickly potted palm. Little John cast appreciative glances in our direction, slowly nodding in agreement. In a moment, they'd finished and Ronnie returned to us, beaming. "It's all set, guys! The room'll be ready in an hour! We'll wait in the hotel coffee shop. They've got a table reserved for us there! We can have anything we want, on the house!!" The smoking Maitre d' led us to our table, which was sitting squarely in front of a large window that looked out onto the crowded sidewalk. Our view was obscured by sputtering neon beer signs and the remains of countless flies. Nearby, a cigarette vending machine began to attract a series of nervous men who slowly wandered by our table. It seemed all of them were casting furtive sideglances at us. Out on the sidewalk, others seemed to be doing the same thing. Some of them even came up to the window and boldly stared at us. "Hey guys," I asked finally, "..is it just me or are all these guys really looking us over?" "Oh, I think it's nothing much ," Ronnie reassured us. "They probably haven't seen a set of twins before and, golly-gee, here's TWO sets of twins right at the same table!!" By the time we were on our third round of the house speciality, Cherry Cola Canadian, we were beginning to find the visual attention flattering. We were waving at the starers. Donald held his glass up to his eye. "Hmm. S'gotta good taste! Wunner wha's in it?" In our giggling hilarity, we failed to notice a small figure standing patiently at our table. "Gentlemen, your room is ready," intoned Little John. "If you will follow me, please.." A heavy door Little John unlocked led us to narrow twisting stairs and then a dimly lit corridor. The smell of semen hung in the stale air like an exotic incense. Behind closed doors we passed, we heard muffled sounds of men in high moments of sexual fulfillment. A door opened and a tall, muscular black man stepped out completely naked and opened the door to a lavatory. A large white pearl of his sperm still hung from his huge cut cock. He lifted it up and squeezed the head until it was dry. He caught us looking and grinned. "Still givin' my love juice. Ooowee. There ain't nothin' like boy pussy after a game!" I thought I'd recognized him. I'd seen his face on the sports pages hundreds of times. The sweating "boy pussy" came to the doorway and leaned against the frame, cleaning himself with a damp towel. He looked as if he had been ridden hard and professionally. "Hi, rent boys," he said, grinning. It was the muscular young man who'd greeted us out on the street. "I knew I'd see you down here tonight. You guys got enough condoms?" He reached inside the door and offered us a handful. "Better take 'em, guys. We gotta look out for each other. Nobody else is gonna do it." We took them and thanked him. Little John opened the door to our room. The rentboy smiled and said "Give 'em hell!" The black athlete returned with a rising hardon. He fondled it, winking and grinning at us. "Jus'gettin' warmed up!" he confided. He and rentboy kissed, then closed the door. Our room was small, but made to seem larger with floor-to-ceiling mirrors that formed two entire adjoining walls. Pink recessed lighting glowed warmly, shining down like a spotlight on the huge bed that dominated the room. There seemed to be no light switch. "This is the very best room we have down here," Little John advised us. "No need to go across the hall. The room has its own lavatory." He opened the narrow door to show us. The sink had two dispensers above it. One was for soap. The other contained a lubricant. With the leering admonition to "have fun," Little John closed the outer door and left us. At last we were alone in our sexual paradise! While the twins and I fumbled with our shirt buttons, Donald flopped on the bed and began to investigate all the pushbuttons he found built into the headboard. One set made the bed vibrate in five different degrees of sensuality. Pushing another started the bed rotating. Donald squealed loudly with glee. "Hey, lookit, guys!! Lookit, lookit, lookit!! 33.........45.........and 78!! Wheeeeeee!!!" Donnie giggled and joined in the fun. He timed his playful leap so that he lit squarely on Donald as he whizzed by. They kissed with sloppy passion while trying to wriggle out of their clothes. Shirts, shoes and pants flew off the spinning bed until only their strained, severely stretched shorts remained between them. Nearly naked, their noisy lovemaking reached new levels of outrageous physical abandonment. Ronnie and I had stripped our clothes off, but we found the arousing spectacle on the bed to be an enormous distraction. "I think they need a little help, don't you?" Ronnie whispered, laughing wickedly. With a well-timed running leap, we dove on the screaming Donalds and ripped their shorts off. "Quick, everyone!" Ronnie cried, "Donald needs to get a TONGUE BATH right now!!" Donald screamed and flailed helplessly on the bed as three moist, probing tongues and thirty curious, tickling fingers explored every inch of his body. An undiscovered area of particular sensitivity on his lower belly raised his struggles to their maximum effort. He managed to break free and rolled protectively onto his stomach, ending the tickle torture but inviting new exploitations. Ronnie and I held him steady as Donnie pressed his face into the moist, dark recesses of Donald's buttocks then slowly began his climb on board. His tongue traced the line of bumps up his spine and we could feel his resistance begin to fade. Soon Donald bore the full weight of his rider who nibbled and poured a torrent of whispered hot words in his ear. Exploring hands slipped under his belly and performed a slow-motion massage. Donald's legs suddenly quivered and went stiff. The magic button on the underside of his cockhead had been well and firmly pressed. Donald had become the obedient sex slave and the struggle was over. His mouth hung open as Donnie rolled him over to continue the massage and contemplate the towering hardon that bobbed and throbbed expectantly before him. He opened his mouth wide and drew it in, savoring every drop of its natural sweetness. Their bodies began to move in rhythmic interaction. Ronnie pressed me down on the bed. For a moment his grinning face loomed over mine then we tongued and kissed deeply. Without looking, he found the headboard button that slowed the bed's rotation to the dignified crawl seen in jewelry store display cases. That done, his arms encircled my head and held me as we rocked from side to side. I reveled in the joy of Ronnie's lithe, amazingly light body and the rock-hard rigidity of his heavy, equally amazing cock. His tongue became a warm, moist roar in my ear. I trembled and let my legs lock over his, thrilled to discover the coarse blond hair I could feel as I did it. His kissing moved lower and lower. Soon our bodies also moved in rhythmic interaction. The room was filled with the softly urgent sounds of boys caught in escalating passion. Each grunt, each half-spoken word, each squeak of the bed raised our mutual excitement into dangerously uncharted areas approaching a climax that threatened to level the hotel. "Hey Ronnie!" Donnie's whisper trembled with urgency. "You wanna try the '138'?" It sounded like we were ordering takeout from a chinese restaurant. "What's the '138'?" I panted. "Some kind of food?" Ronnie's soft laughter gently shook my body. "It's a double 69," he whispered back. "It's four guys at once, sorta like a circle suck." Ronnie sat up and quietly directed everyone to quickly form a hollow square on the bed. "Donnie sucks Donald. Tom sucks Donnie. I suck Tom and Donald sucks me. Okay? Everyone extend a free hand into the space between us and take hold, sorta like a four way handshake. When you're about to cum, you signal by pulling your hand out of the handshake and you aim your cock right into the center for the big finish! Got it? Okay?" Overhead in the ceiling mirror, the reflected image of four naked, tumescent boys began to resemble an exotic, flesh-colored tropical flower, with four heads bobbing in energetic unison, struggling to bring forth heavenly nectar. To match the mounting excitement, the bed began spinning faster and faster. At the same moment, Ronnie and Donnie stiffened, snatched their hands back and took aim. Donald and I did the same. Our four exploding cocks simultaneously flooded the space between us in a pattern of near perfect symmetry. "OH WOW!" Donald sat up, giggling and sweaty. "Wasn't that SOMETHING ELSE?!" Little John knocked on the door and carried in another round of Cherry Cola Canadians. He smiled as he handed them out with a practiced flourish then turned and left the room. There followed more sex, more horseplay and, of course, more Cherry Cola Canadians. Finally the time came when we were drained, limp with exhaustion and very, very sleepy. During a half-hearted attempt at yet another "138" we drifted off into a blissful slumber. I awoke with a buzzing head, not knowing if it was morning or later that same evening. I squinted at my sprawled bedmates. Old sleeping habits had reemerged while we dozed. Donald had returned to cuddle beside me, snoring softly with his nose buried deep in my armpit. Ronnie and Donnie were sweetly curled up in the dual fetal position they had no doubt enjoyed in their nine months of pre-natal bliss. Donald stirred slightly then winced and gently touched a tentative hand to his forehead. "G'awful headache," he managed to mumble while spitting a curly hair out of his mouth. The twins awoke, bright, frisky and perfectly refreshed. "Hey guys!" Ronnie called out, "You wanna try doing another '138' now?" Donald moaned and tried to crawl under me. "Stop the darn bed spinning before I start throwing up," came his muffled response. The bed wasn't spinning. The only motion was somewhere in Donald's fogged mind. Ronnie rubbed Donald's limp shoulders. "Putting your feet on the floor will stop the spinning," he softly advised him. Donald did and promptly staggered into the lavatory to loudly worship the ceramic god. "I suppose THAT means we'd better get dressed," Ronnie sighed. "Someone else will be waiting to use the room if we're through with it." The first streaks of dawn were appearing in the sky as the twins walked us to our bus. Their non-stop apology bounced from twin to twin as if it were some kind of volleyball. "We're sorry, guys, honest. We didn't think those drinks had such a kick." "Yes, please don't be angry with us, guys. We really like you guys...a lot." "Please say you'll come to see us again. We had so much fun with both of you." "Yes! The four of us thought so much alike it was awesome, like we're quadruplets.." "And, we don't have to go to the hotel. We can make other arrangements in advance..." They waved their sad goodbyes as the bus pulled out. We waved back weakly, trying to summon smiles that didn't hurt too much. Donald pulled his coat off and rolled himself into a tight ball with his head in my lap. I gently covered him with his coat and rubbed his aching head until he fell asleep. The blast of airbrakes woke both of us. We were home, back once more in our snugly secure, up to now underappreciated domain. Donald had recovered a little of his natural bouyancy by then. The sweet fresh air we breathed on our walk home helped even more. The door to Darren and Kenny's room was ominously closed when we got in the house. Donald held a finger to his lips as we tiptoed past to his room and quietly closed the door. A note was pinned to the pillow on Donald's bed. It was from Kenny and it spilled over several pages ripped from one of his prescription pads. Donald read it, his face turning very pale then blushing beet red. When he finished, he passed the note to me and limply fell face down on the bed. He pulled the pillow tightly over his head and loudly groaned. Kenny had written: "Hey Dongmeister and Tomcat! Well, didn't we have an interesting evening last night? Darren and I were both hot to go to Gay Men's Chorus Concert in the city 'cause they were encoring their big hit show, "Songfest At The Baths." You know, the one where they all wear only towels and do a lot of grab-ass while singing Cole Porter tunes? Anyway, we had a grand time and got to keep one of the towels as a souvenir. Afterward, Darren was feeling frisky and wanted to go down into The District for a little "nightlife". He'd heard about this hot new gay bar there called "The Brass Hamster" and wanted to check it out. So we go, and it's cool so we're having a high old time, drinking and dancing and pretending we're still in college. We were there maybe twenty minutes when an announcement goes out on the bar's P.A. system, saying that the 9 o'clock livesex show was going to feature two sets of very horny identical twins. Now, permit me to digress to explain that Ol' Darren has always been a real softy when it comes to twin boys, especially gay twin boys! I think he saw "Twins In The Dunes" maybe 16 times, so you know the chance to see TWO sets of twins "doin' their thing ah natcheral" was too much for him to resist. So we get in line and each hand out ten bucks to this creepy little attendant wearing a bellhop uniform. Believe me, that little shit was really cleaning up. I took a head count when we sat down and figured he had to have pocketed a thousand dollars! Not too bad, I suppose since it's probably going to be unreported income. Anyway, the seating's tight in front of this big two-way mirror arrangement they got looking into this sorta bedroom and, first thing off, this dude behind us spills beer on us. Well, that irked Ol' Dare a bit, but he was in seventh heaven when he saw the first set of twins. They were blond and so cute!! Then he sees the second set of "twins" and he goes right through the damn floor! First of all, you jokers AREN'T twins, no matter how much you look alike! So wasn't it kind of a ripoff? SECONDLY, what were you doing in a livesex show in the first place? Think that's the worst of it? Don't you guys just wish! But hell, we paid our money so we might as well watch, right? So we do. Then we get to the part where one of the twins says, "LET'S GIVE DONALD A TONGUE BATH!" Now, everybody even Darren thinks the horseplay is kinda cute, except the dude behind us, who's three sheets to the wind by now. He yells, "I'D LIKE TO GIVE DONALD EIGHT INCHES RIGHT UP HIS ASS!" This was too much for Ol' Dare who has long regarded Donald's ass as a sacred chapel where only the pure and chaste may enter. He turns around, swings on the dude, and gets cold-cocked with a beermug! Beer flies everywhere. It gets on us and at least eight other dudes who don't take kindly to getting doused. Pandemonium ensues and it takes all my diplomacy to get everybody to cool it, let alone keep us from being thrown outta there! Now Darren's got a cut on his forehead and it's bleeding pretty good. So I use the Gay Men's Chorus souvenir towel to try to get it to stop 'cause Darren (Don't ask me why!) wants to stay for the whole show now. The big finale finally comes and I had to love that whirling bed and that great "Fleur de Lis" pattern you guys did with your jizz! Alright!! So the show's over and Darren's still bleeding. I tie the towel around his head like a tourniquet and get him to a hospital emergency room pronto. I try to tell them that I'm a doctor and all I need is a small setup to put a few stitches in a cut, but we've got beer all over our clothes and who ever heard of a doctor with beer on his clothes, right? So we had to sit on a bench and wait for a "real" doctor to help us. So there sits Darren with his Gay Men's Chorus souvenir towel wrapped around his head with this huge red dot forming in the front. The nurses were going by, taking a look and running into a supply closet to laugh. Ol' Dare looked like a kamikaze pilot wearing a powder blue tuxedo! Darren gets patched up finally and we're in the car on our way. Now, his stitches are hurting him and his eye is swelling shut which puts him in a godawful mood, so of course we get into a wingding of an argument, the worst we've ever had! He said he was gonna paddle BOTH your asses when we got home and that was just for OPENERS! Now I'm a laid back, easy goin' guy as a rule but enough's enough and I tell him if asses are going to get paddled, maybe I should start with HIS 'cause those sex shows couldn't happen without highrolling customers payin' to get in and, from where I was sitting, he was the biggest stinking high-roller in the history of the The Brass Hamster! This is doing Darren no good so we find a drug store that's open. I get him a compress for his eye and an icebag for his forehead. I write him a prescription for a mild painkiller and, while I'm at it, I write one for a fucking big sedative! I make him take it right there at the soda fountain and by the time we're back in the car, he's gotten a lot more mellow. Now guys, it's my house too and I want peace and love under its roof, OK? So here's how it's going to work. IF you guys will keep a real low profile and not ask Darren why he's wearing an eyepatch, or why he's got stitches on his forehead, or why his Gay Men's Chorus souvenir towel's got blood on it or why he's lying stretched out on the bed staring at the damn ceiling all day, maybe he'll stay cool and let this blow over. Now I told him IF he did, MAYBE, just MAYBE, you'd invite the little twins down to spend some time with us, like over the weekend? NEXT weekend, OK? We'd even let you guys use our big 'ol waterbed. Hell, we may as well, since you jokers already went ahead and spooged it up yesterday! Geez! What a mess!