Inside Track Pt. 03

"Bareback me!" Timmi said, releasing my dick only a moment or so from the point of no return. He rolled onto his tummy and closed his legs together. He still wore the ladies' boots and, butt naked except for them, looked very sexy. Steadying myself as I straddled him, I directed my dick between his tight ass cheeks where my member slipped easily into his manhole. I pressed myself down onto his ass, feeling my cock sink fully into him and knowing exactly how that felt. It was feeling my brother's beautiful body beneath me, feeling my skin against his skin and, strangely, feeling my feet rub against the leather of his boots, that finally did it. I arched my back and pressed myself into him as I felt the first, second and third spurts of cum empty deep inside him.

I held the pose for a moment or two, then collapsed onto the bed on top of my brother. I held him for a while, wrapping my arms around him as we lay in a sweat together on the cramped bed, my softening sex organ still plugging his asshole. I kissed the back of his neck a few times, just the way I knew he liked it. His skin tasted good, and the love-making had made us both drowsy.

We had booked into a little motel in the 'burbs a few hours ago, taking our stuff from Dr Daniels' borrowed house and crossing town using buses. Before we left, Timmi went into the bathroom with the third case; the frills 'n' make-up case, as we called it. He came out, fifteen minutes later, looking strikingly gorgeous. He had curled his hair a little; giving it a slight kink, and had put on his old 'Dusk's Kiss' lipstick, with a little eye liner and concealer. He'd put on a little chest-padded vest-top and jacket, the tan-coloured skirt he had bought for me, some natural coloured tights and a pair of knee-length, low-heeled boots he had only bought last week. He looked really, really gorgeous, and knew it.

Unable to help myself, we had kissed for a long while in Dr Daniels front room as he went through the house, tidying things away and trying to ignore us. He didn't approve of our sexual liaisons, but understood them and, even, told Timmi how lovely he looked dressed up (Timmi giggled and bit his lower lip in that coy smile, shameless flirt that he is).

Then we left Dr Daniels, each kissing his cheek (we'd talked about double-teaming him; maybe both dressed up as girls, but reckoned he wasn't the type to be tempted, even by a couple of hot muffins like us). Then, taking our bags, we left his house, hand in hand, and went on our way.

I sighed, feeling sleepy and drowsy after our lovemaking. Timmi was still wearing his boots, and we had to get up to shower, but I liked holding him after we'd had sex, so snuggled against him for a precious few minutes.

"Do you think we're going to make it?" I said, thinking how wonderful and shitty life could be at the same time.

"'course, Clay. We're young, beautiful, and talented. Nothing to stop us."

"What about federal and state law?"

"Can't see Mr Federal, or Mr State in here. Besides, those laws are to stop hicks in the backwoods from fucking their sisters and mussing up the gene pool."

"And to stop family members being exploited." I said, lowering my voice. Bizarrely, perversely, I had got a bit religious (as they say) about the whole incest topic; becoming a firm believer that most incest was non-consensual and wrong. Timmi and I were perhaps one of the only few incestuous couples who proved the exception to the rule, and we both felt comfortable that if we were breaking any laws, it would only be down to a bad interpretation of them.

Timmi found my left hand with his and laced his fingers between mine.

"We'll come up with something" he murmured, answering my earlier question if we'd be okay.

We nearly fell asleep, but I felt my cock shift in his ass as I moved, and it made me want to get up to shower.

I rolled off Timmi and went to the little cubicle in the motel room's bathroom. I had stripped naked already, before Timmi took me to bed, and called out for Timmi to join me if he could be bothered to strip his lazy ass. And it was there, in the cramped little shower, with damp and mold-spots as my only companions, that The Idea came to me.

I let it swim around in my head a little, at first disbelieving what had come to me in a flash from nothingness. Then I started to pick it apart, trying to do the scientific thing and pick holes in The Idea, then patch them up with solutions. And, when Timmi squeezed into the shower with me and we soaped each other down, I still continued to think about The Idea, giving short, distracted answers to Timmi's small-talk.

Later, much later, as we lay together under starched sheets on the so far unused bed on Timmi's side, A half moon risen high in the sky, I told Timmi about The Idea. He laughed, then snorted derisively, then laughed at me again and then - only after a good belly-ache - did he start listening properly.

The next day, foregoing our usual morning sexual liaison, I got our things ready and we went to a storage depot at one of the bus terminals in town. We'd both dressed for college, and went there. But not to our classes. We went to the library, where we hogged an internet terminal for about four hours, going through as much research as I'd ever done before. And, when we'd finished it, Timmi wasn't laughing at The Idea any more.

The Future

Hell, I don't know what the future's going to be. Don't ask me. But what I did know was that the future contained me, Timmi, the cyto-fyto-whats-it, and The Idea.

The Idea (because I just know you want to know) is an entirely corrupt, capitalist idea; a product of our circumstances designed to make our lives wealthier and better. And to make other's lives better too, of course.

In short, The Idea was to farm the cyto-fyto stuff and produce it, not on a mass scale, but on a small scale, to some very select clients, who would appreciate the very distinct properties it had saddled onto us. The first part of The Idea was to find a backer; someone of influence who could help realize the second part of The Idea - replicating and producing the cyto-fyto for a select market - and then lead to the third pat of The Idea. Making Timmi and I hugely rich.

So, the time we spent on the computer at school was spent first on finding that back and then, when we'd found her (as it turned out, the one sensible reply we had from our initial e-mails was from the agent of a pair of female twins who were in the Adult industry).

Timmi and I retired to another motel where, to celebrate our hope, Timmi dressed up fabulously from the Frills 'n' Make-up case and we hit the town to spend a bit of our remaining cash on an outrageously expensive meal at an outrageously top-salary restaurant.

We dinked our wine glasses together as we finished the meal and, unable to help ourselves in the moment, leaned across the table and kissed each other.

Somewhere to my right and Timmi's left, we heard someone say "Ahhh", and we knew - just knew - that they were looking at us and wishing us well.

And they would have been right.

The End