No one had to tell Barry when his friend Will was having a party. Barry's family lived right next door to will's, in an identical suburban split-level typical of the sprawling upper-middle-class enclaves north of New York; and every time Will's widowed dad went away, music radiated from the house so loud it could be heard at the end of their otherwise-quiet block.

Will's dad was an airline navigator; he was away a lot.

Barry sat at his desk, trying hard to concentrate on the economy of ancient Rome, but he was having trouble concentrating. It was only September, barely a week into school, and already Will was throwing his first party. The music was in his room, as loud as if he were playing his own radio. Unconsciously Barry started moving his hips in his chair. He loved dancing, mostly because he was good at it. No one expected someone tall and packed with muscle to be a good dancer, but Barry had excellent rhythm and his moves on the dance floor had the girls circling round and screaming just as much as his moves in the basketball court.

The other reason he was having trouble concentrating was starting worry him: his constant, round the clock boner. His cock was simply always hard, always wanted his left hand (lubed or dry) wrapped around it, his right hand bored, left out. He would find himself stroking it through his jeans without even realize it, though so far he'd managed to avoid embarrassing himself. It had started sometime in the spring, at first only most of the time and quenchable with a quick j/o, but now jacking off had almost no effect unless he kept doing it until he'd come five or six times; then he—and his hand and cock—would be so tired he would drift off to sleep, and in the morning it would be hard again, stiff and tall, casting early morning shadows across his long, lanky stomach.

Barry made an effort to concentrate on his textbook, but his left hand was already kneading the length of his boner through his jeans. His right hand, meanwhile, began to drift lightly up his torso, until his long fingers were caressing his own heavy, spherical pecs lightly through the taut tee shirt. The words suddenly blurred on the page. Barry gave up with a sigh, unzipped his jeans, and fished out his wide, stiff cock. It stood growing straight up out of his jeans, and he started at at for a moment. It was beautiful. He spit on his hand and began stroking it hard, ruthlessly, while he mauled his own thick pecs with the other hand.

The music was still filling the room, and he thought of Will. His cock was nothing like Will's. They'd been friends since grade school, being two of a kind—both smart and athletic, with an easygoing nature and a talent for making friends; but Will was more charming, Barry thought, always with a group of admirers, while Barry was more down to earth. Because Barry had less of a crowd, he ended up putting in more time at the school gym; so as they'd entered high school Barry had more muscle packed onto his lithe, lanky frame, and Will had only recently started to catch up. Barry was fair, with long wavy blond hair on his broad shoulders; Will was darker, and kept his black hair closely cropped. But the chief difference between these two friends, they found out one day early in the summer, was their equipment.

They'd been playing basketball, but the game had gone nowhere, and they had ended up slumped in front of the family room tv, bored out of their minds. Finally during a commercial Will pointed at the obvious hard-on in Barry's gym shorts. "I noticed that during the game," he said. "Doesn't it ever go away?"

Barry glanced down at his lap and grimaced. "Not these days."

"Man, I'm glad I'm not you," Will said. "It'd be more of a problem for me."

Barry looked at his buddy. "You're full of shit."

"I'm just saying—"

"I know what you're saying," Barry said. "You're trying to imply that your dick is so enormous you couldn't ever hide it if it was hard all the time."

"Well, I can't help it if—"

"Wipe that smug look on your face. I've seen your dick."

"You've see it _soft_."

Involuntarily Barry glanced at Will's crotch. Did he see something move under the yellow nylon? "All right then, prove it."

"Don't be stupid."

"You ain't gonna get away with this. Otherwise you'll be acting like you're bigger all the rest of high school."

"I don't have to prove it to you."

"The fuck you do!" Barry jumped up and before Will could do anything yanked Will's shorts and jock down around his ankles.

Will, resigned, sat back and watched as his cock awoke under Barry's gaze. It didn't look very unusual flaccid, nestled in Will's heavy balls; but it quickly began to swell up, growing bigger and bigger and harder and harder. Barry gasped, amazed, not even realizing he was rubbing his own hardon. Finally it slapped rock-hard against Will's torso, the tip just starting to press into the crevice between Will's pecs.

Barry started at it in awe. "Man," he whispered. "You must need two hands to jack that thing off."

"Actually," Will said matter-of-factly, slowly placing Barry's right hand around the middle of his shaft, then wrapping his own hands around his cock above and below Barry's hand, "I've always thought it would work better with three."

In fact Will's three handed jack-off method did work remarkably well, and since they both enjoyed it so much—and jacking off didn't make you gay, of course—they soon began to fall into the habit, when they hung out in the afternoons, of finding themselves in Will's room, three hands on Will's awesome cock and the fourth on Barry's constant boner.

Toward the middle of the summer, though, Barry had started to feel weird about the j/o sessions with Will. He'd started feeling something strange when he was with Will, an overwhelming urge to jump on top of him, press their bods together, flesh against flesh, cock against cock. The urge frightened him, and every time he saw Will it was stronger. Finally he stopped going over to Will's altogether.

As he sat at his desk, textbook forgotten, Barry realized that lately he'd been thinking of these sessions when he jacked off. It was so much better than jacking off alone. He had to do it one more time. If he could tear Will away from his party...

His hand stopped in mid stroke. Abruptly he stuffed his boner back in his jeans, zipped his fly with some difficulty, stood and stepped purposefully out of the room.

Will's house was full of music and people; the walls, the very air seemed to be throbbing, pulsing. He knew everyone there—they were all classmates from school. The foyer was crowded with girls. Cheerleaders, in fact. They squealed to see him and immediately barred his way.

"Gimme your shirt," shouted the slightly toasted head cheerleader over the music, as the others looked up at Barry giggling.

Barry shook his head. "What? Why?"

Some of them has started running their hands over his torso, as if he were a captured giant on a carnal Lilliput. How much had the girls had to drink? Suddenly Barry realized that they probably couldn't see his hardon in this light but they'd feel it soon. He started to push through, but they got in his way again.

"All the cute boys are going without shirts tonight," insisted the head cheerleader, whose name was Stefanie.

"And you are definitely one of the cute ones!" added one of the others with unconcealed lust, as the rest giggled and crowded closer.

"If you don't take it off we'll rip it off," said Stefanie, pointing to another tee, ripped to shreds, lying in a corner near a more orderly pile of shirts.

Well, this was all pretty weird, Barry thought, but I haven't worked out so hard to hide his bod. And I don't want them to realize I had a huge boner (and get the wrong idea). Barry shucked the shirt to a chorus of ooos, handed it to blushing Stefanie, and left them behind to ... admire his behind? They might as well.

Baryy entered the living room and stood there, agog. The room was full of kids his age, dancing to the beat. Will had found a laser machine somewhere; the room was dark but wracked with laser lightning in red, green, and blue. Barry's butt started to move before he even realized it, and by the time he had moved into the crowd he was dancing full tilt, feeling a rush of excitement and uninhibitedness that he'd never felt in his young life anywhere else but on a dance floor.

Barry half expected to gather a crowd of girls, but evidently they were all out in the foyer at the moment, guarding the entrance against cute boys with shirts; the dance floor was mostly boys, a lot of them friends of mine from the basketball and wrestling teams (both of which Will also belonged to). Most of them had been rated "cute"—they were shirtless and sweating in the hot room.

Barry saw his buddy Andy dancing not far away and moved toward him. Barry hadn't seen him since Spring and was amazed to see he'd shot up over the summer —he had to be almost six-seven now! He looked like he'd been stretched—his torso was long and very lanky, with enough muscle to show he could build more once he stopped growing.

"Hey dude," Andy said. "You passed the test, I see." He nodded toward the foyer with a grin.

"I earned it," Barry said, laughing. "How'd you manage, you beanpole freak?"

"They like 'em big, I guess," he said modestly.

"How much did you grow, fucker?"

"A lot," Andy said, eyes widening. "I couldn't believe it, I thought I'd stopped growing a couple years ago. Still at it, too. I keep going through shoes—Mom's furious. I already need new ones—I kick em off every chance I get." Barry glanced down—sure enough, Andy was dancing in stretched-out white socks, his jeans cuffs above his ankles.

"So it's not just you're getting taller," Barry said, amazed.

"Naw, man, everything's growing—everything," he added with a note of awe, at the same time touching a long-fingered hand to his crotch. That was all he would say on the subject, but it was enough. Barry was startled to realize his own hardon was pumping at the thought of Andy's monster growing bigger and bigger. Meanwhile, Andy had moved on. "What about you, man? You look like you've spent all summer in the gym," he said, lightly slapping Barry's left pec.

"Actually, I've been blowing it off," Barry said, a little chagrinned. "I figured I'd have to work out pretty hard to get back in condition."

Andy snorted. "Are you bullshitting me? You look huge, dude. Your pecs are D-cups, man! Out of condition, my ass. You really need to get out of the weight room and get a life, Bar."

Barry kept dancing, but he suddenly realized his shirts had been getting tighter lately. He really had blown off working out all summer—so why had he gotten bigger and harder rather than softer? "Maybe you're right, dude," he said, in order to say something.

"I know I am. Hey—there's Will and his brother. Did you meet him yet?"

Barry glanced up at his friend sharply. "Will doesn't have a brother, asswipe!"

Barry nodded in the direction over Barry's shoulder. "Look for yourself," he said.

Barry frowned and turned to look. His jaw dropped open. His butt stopped working, and he just stood there, arms at his sides.

Not far away, Will was making his way through the crowd of sweaty, naked, exuberant boys, a big smile on his face for Barry; and behind him, also smiling, was—Will!

Barry turned back to Andy. "Twins??" he said incredulously.

Andy nodded, still dancing. "Separated at birth, Will says. They only got reuinted last month through one of those services."

In that moment Will and his twin were upon them. One of them slapped Barry on a thick upper arm. "Hey dude," he said with a huge grin. "I'm glad you could make it. This is my brother, Phil," he added, aiming the grin at his twin and putting an arm around him, which Phil, also grinning, quickly reciprocated.

"Are you sure?" said Barry, laughing with amazement, but at the same time feeling unaccountably warm and flushed. They were identical! Except maybe for the muscle development—Will had broadened out a little and, Barry thought, had a bit of an edge on Phil, especially when it came to pecs, though they were both better developed with tight teen-muscle than anyone in the pulsing room except Barry himself.

"We were wearing different shirts, but that plan got ruined by Stefanie's posse," Phil laughed. "Did Andy explain the story?"

Barry nodded, suddenly starting to get seriously hot and overwhelmed—he remembered why he'd come over and realized Phil must have the same firehose as his brother! He realized he wanted it, and the thought of two of them...

His head started swimming, and he fell toward the two Wills, felt himself being caught effortlessly. Dimly hearing Will—or was it Phil?—say they they would take care of him to other concerned partygoers, Barry felt himself lifted and carried into the rear of the house, where Will's bedroom was.

Soon they were alone, the sound of the party muffled surprisingly well in the little room. It looked like the typical teenage boy's room: posters, shirts and shoes strewn about, rumpled unmade bed. Barry knew it well, though the last time he'd been here—his dick was pounding like it wanted out of his jeans, not helped by the presence of two Wills, one on either side, as they sat him on the bed, arms still around his shoulders.

"A little too much all at once, buddy?" one of them said.

Barry nodded. One of the twins got up and soon returned with a glass of water, which Barry drank almost in one swallow. They waited patiently for him to recover. "You know, it's funny," Barry said finally, glancing from one to the other—which one was Will? "I came over 'cause I realized I really missed—you know, hanging out with you ..."

"So did I," said one of the twins (must be Will, Barry thought), exchanging glances with the other, who nodded with a small smile.

"I mean—I really missed it," Barry whispered, his heart pounding.

Will nodded. "Me too. In fact, that kind of led to where we are now," he said.

Barry frowned. "I don't understa—" he started to say, but got no further before Will's soft, warm, full lips were on his, followed closely by Phil's. "Ooohh—oh shit—" Barry breathed, and his cock suddenly swelled with hot cum and burst in his pants. As he came they kissed his neck, slowly caressing his young, outstanding torso with all four hands. "Oh, man—" Barry moaned, falling back into their arms, his cock still pounding out cum into his shorts. "I didn't think I wanted it—so bad."

"We're glad you do," said one of the twins. They were both standing up and taking off their pants, revealing dangerously full jocks, neither one of them taking their eyes off their teen-hunk friend and guest. Barry let them unbutton his jeans and slide them off, revealking cum-soaked Calvins plastered over a still-rock-hard extra-wide boner. Whatever was going to happen, Barry knew he wanted it. Will and Phil slid off the shorts, leaving Barry's boner to jump against his flat belly like a landed mackerel.

The beautiful twins stood at the foot of the bed and in one motion slid off their jocks, revealing swollen half-hard cocks that stiffened rapidly as they climbed onto the bed, so that as they stooped over him, each massaging a bowling-ball sized pec, their cocks had become stiff logs three hand-breadths long. Panting with excitement and amazement Barry reached up and took one in each hand, moving his hand slowly up and down against the taut, smooth skin. He'd realized tonight before he came over how much he loved the feel of that cock in his hand—how incredible to have one in each hand, his to enjoy. Part of him wanted him to stop, told him he was crossing a line no high-school boy dared cross; but his teenage mind and body were awash in hormones and emotions too strong to categorize, much less deny. His hard teenstud body and rock-hard cock were quivering with lust and more than lust for the two amazing, sexual, gorgeous young men busy caressing, stroking, stimulating every inch of his body.

Barry wasn't sure how long they were together in that room—it seemed hardly any time at all, the moment seemed somehow to stretch, each second bringing a new ecstasy. He discovered that the feel of their tight, well-developed bods under his hands made him pant and sweat, that even better than the feel of those godly cocks in his hands was the sensation of having one in his mouth —and throat, to his amazement: once he had that quivering, hard, godlike cock sliding into his hot mouth, inch after inch after inch, nothing felt more natural, nothing felt more right. Until the other cock pressed at his virgin anus and started to push in, slowly and steadily, a little more then stop, a little more then stop, the pain turning slowly into raw, animal pleasure, his whole body suffused with raging hormones, as those two unreal horsecocks filled him at both ends; and as the twins got more and more into it, as if his potent lust had infused in them, they rode him, pushed him, until they were holding back a huge shuddering dam ready to burst, and then, together, they released it, volley after volley of boiling cum, and Barry's swollen cock, filling his unlubricated hand, burst again, spraying cum on the muscled ass of the boy whose cock was deep inside his sated throat.

They separated with great satisfaction but a little reluctance as well, and lay on the bed together, red and flushed from head to toe, cocks still hard, panting hard for some time.

Finally one of the twins sat up on his elbows. "We'd better take a quick shower and get back to the party."

Barry's eyes widened. "Shit—the party!" He jumped up and hurried into the adjacent bathroom, the twins right behind him. The rinsed off in hurry, trying to keep their hair dry, then stepped out and towelled off. As his looked up from turning off the water, he glanced at the twins, their bodies still glistening as they dried off, cocks still half-hard, and started to smile. Then he noticed something and his smile froze.

The twins noticed where he was looking and exchanged alarmed glances. Each of their bodies had a very small, V-shaped scar just below the waist over the left leg. Both scars were in exactly the same place, were exactly the same size and shape.

"That scar—" Barry started to say. He knew that scar. He's watched Will get it, during a camping trip about a year before, falling down a rocky hillside. He looked up at one twin, then the other. "What the FUCK—!"

Quickly both twins put their hands over his mouth and, taking him gently by the shoulders, moved him back into the bedroom and sat him down on the edge of the bed. When they released him, he remembered all the people outside, and could not figure out what to think. He stared at the two Wills—somehow they had to be two Wills—with a weird and unresolvable mixture of confusion, fear, lust, and love. Sitting on either side of him were two naked, muscular, gorgeous, incredibly hung hunks, but more than that he'd realized that it was Will, and he wanted Will in every way. Despite his fear the presence of two of him melted his heart even as it hardened his cock.

"Tell me what's going on," Barry finally said, his voice sounding hoarse.

They exchanged glances, then one of them, the one on his left, began. "You see, Barry, maybe it's good you know," he said apologetically. He took a deep breath. "About two years ago, I discovered I have a kind of special talent. I can make things grow. It has something to do with duplicating their cells."

"I found out in bio class," continued the other twin, as Barry stared, open- mouthed. "I was looking at living microorganisms under the microscope, and as I watched them, suddenly they started to divide, like crazy. I called Mr. Ross over and he was amazed, said it shouldn't be happening—but it stopped almost as soon as I took my eyes away."

"I wouldn't have thought much about it," said the first one, "except I realized that night that my dick had gotten bigger over the last few months."

At that Barry wrapped his left hand around his super-hard cock and slowly began stroking it, though he barely noticed. His bored right hand started to range slowly over his tight but tremendsously muscled torso. The twins' cocks, too, lying half-hard across their thighs, started to stiffen, rising rapidly to full erections standing straight up from their laps as Barry watched enchanted, the tops just touching the cleft between two beautiful heavy pecs.

"You see, two years ago, it was not quite the size of yours—and not nearly as wide," said the second twin, licking his full lips as the two of them casually wrapped both hands around their enormous cocks. "Without even realizing it I must have been making it grow while I jerked off fantasizing about having a huge dick." All three of them were stroking now, imperceptibly quickening the pace.

"After the thing in the bio lab," said the first, "I suddenly noticed that my erection came up to my navel—and I knew for a fact it hadn't done that before."

"For the next month I concentrated on my cock, seeing if I really could make it happen," said the second, starting to pant, rounded pecs starting to flush. "I was fascinated—and totally obsessed."

"Hey, I remember that month!" said Barry, startled into momentarily stopping mid-stroke. He turned to the other twin. "He—you—were acting totally freaky that month, always adjusting yourself. Going to the bathroom between every period. I wondered if you'd started smoking joints or something."

The twin on his left smiled, hands slowed but not stopped. "Nope, not me. But I was definitely disconnected from reality. Finally one morning I woke up with an erection that stretched all the way to my collarbone." With that all their hands were moving again, as the twins took a deep breath at the memory. "It was awesome—it was majestic—but I knew I'd gone too far. I had to go to classes and live in the real world. It was only the discovery that I could make things smaller again—if I tried really hard—that saved me."

"I couldn't even suck myself properly when it was that big," added the second twin. "And I really learned to love sucking myself." Barry gasped, almost came right then—the concept of sucking oneself had never, ever occurred to him.

"So I left my dick alone, at least in terms of growing it," picked up the first. "For a while I tried to think of other things I could play with. I tried making my feet bigger, for example," he said. Both the twins, lifted up their feet: They were pretty big, now that they were called to his attention, though they were nicely shaped and not at all out of proportion to the rest of his body.

"That was really, really tough," said the second. "You can't just make it bigger, you have to do a little bit here, a little bit there, keeping the proportions, the look, the line. It took me months, but it taught me a lot about patience and—art, really."

Barry looked again. "They are beautiful," he said softly, his entire body aroused by this story. "And—and sexy." Even as he looked again he noticed for the first time that each foot had six toes, which for some reason he found deeply stimulating.

Both twins smiled broadly, genuinely pleased. "Thanks!" they said together, kissing him on both cheeks.

"After that," resumed the first twin, "I yearned to try other things. The only thing was the next thing I tried was making my muscles grow, and that didn't work well at first. I was putting a lot of concentration into it—kind of draining actually—but I couldn't get a handle on it, so nothing much happened."

"I was so into the idea, though," said the second, "that I tried it on someone else. I didn't really stop to think, and then when I did, I rationalized it by saying that they wouldn't have minded if they knew..."

They were both watching him carefully, waiting for him to react. Barry looked from one to the other, not catching on at first, then glanced down at his own stunningly well developed musclebod. The shirt-defying broad shoulders and bowling-ball pecs that hid his own cock from his eyes, though not his hand; the grapefruit biceps that pumpled and rippled beautifully as he stroked; the perfectly rounded bubble-butt he was sitting on. He started panting, overcome with amazement.

"There's something else too," said the first twin softly, still double-fisting his monolithic erection. "I'm kind of ashamed of this, but the more I helped you grow muscle the more I wanted you. The only way you'd even think of being with me was as a bud, but if you were horny enough, you'd jack off with me. So I made my dick big again, then I ..." he trailed off, embarrassed.

"I grew your balls," the other one said.

"A lot," added the first. "I'm surprised you didn't notice."

Past amazement, fist flying on his rigid cock, Barry could only breathe, "I did —thought it was just—part of growing up ..." as they shook their heads. His mind was reeling. No wonder he was horny all the time!

The twins were turned on watching Barry learn their story; they were starting to breathe hard as well. "I wanted something more," whispered the second twin. "But I needed to know more—a lot more."

"So I tried things out on other guys—little things here and there," said the first.

Barry suddenly gasped. "Andy!"

The first twin smiled shamefacedly. "He was the most glaring example," he said. "But I got carried away—I wanted him almost as much as I wanted you."

"And the taller and lankier he got, the sexier he got, the more I wanted him," added the second breathily. "I had to force myself to stop."

"But there were a lot of little things that taught me about anatomy with reference to my—to what I can do," said the first, "and that helped me figure out how to do what I knew I really wanted to do."

Barry looked from one to the other, on the edge of orgasm. He caught on immediately. "Twinning," he said huskily.

The nodded together, their bright eyes drinking him in. He could barely hear what they said as the blood rushed in his ears: he tried on animals—first mice, then dogs; Barry remembered that one day Will had two german shepherds instead of one, with barely a word of explanation—then finally, unable to bear it any longer, he tried it on himself, growing a whole second body out of his own.

"I passed out from exhaustion and when I woke up—" said the first.

"—I was lying on top of myself," finshed the second breathlessly. "Oh, Barry, you can't imagine how wonderful it is."

"Legs intertwining..."

"Muscle against muscle..."

"Kissing long and hard..."

"Barry, you just can't imagine—it was a dream come true..."

"I—can—imagine!" Barry said, and finally unable to hold back a second longer he came spectacularly, all over his teenhunk torso. The twins watched him cum and that pushed them over the edge, their trememdous cocks shooting cum onto their faces and shoulders. They fell back on the bed and cuddled, too tired to clean up. Barry was about to drift off when one of the twins, whose head had been resting on Barry's left pec, suddenly gasped and shook him. "Barry, look!"

Barry lifted his head, then slowly sat up.

Rising majestically out of his groin were two rockhard cocks one behind the other, pressed close together, like the twins waking up together that first morning, Barry thought, dazed. They were both his cock, though both were even wider and a good inch longer than the hardon he'd had only moments before. Just the sight of them nearly brought him to a third orgasm.

He glanced from one twin to the other. Both looked astonished. "How—" he began.

"We didn't do it," said the one on his left.

"Unless our two brains together—" began the other thoughtfully.

"If we sensed your fantasy on a subconscious level," the first said with amazement.

"And made it happen without realizing it!" finished the second.

"Is it something you fantasized about? Maybe without realizing it?" asked the first, staring at the cocks.

Barry didn't answer. Instead, he slowly wrapped his left hand around the front one, which was more to the left, then breathing hard, wrapping his right hand— so used to doing nothing!—around the right, the extra-wide cocks now overfilling his palms. Barely had he done so when they seemed to swell up in his hands, and suddenly he came again, twin globs of fresh cum landing in pile after pile on either side of his trim, tight abs.

He fell back on the bed, almost passed out. When he could speak again he whispered a simple but utterly heartfelt, "Thank you." In answer they kissed him together. It was some time before they remembered the party they had to get back to.

Continued in Twinning 2