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Chapter1 - The Dallas heat was a physical presence, pressing down on the manicured lawns of the Preston Hollow neighborhood. Inside the sprawling, glass-walled house that served as his home, Geoff felt a familiar, restless energy. It had been a month since graduation, a month since the state championship trophy was placed on the mantle, and the accolades already felt like relics from someone else’s life. At eighteen, he was a king without a kingdom, his body a coiled spring of muscle and ambition with nowhere to direct it. He found his father and uncle by the pool, two mirror images of masculine perfection. Nate, his father, was on a lounge chair, scrolling through his phone, the sharp lines of his suit from a morning meeting replaced by the relaxed ease of designer swim trunks. Brandon, his uncle, was in the water, executing a flawless, powerful butterfly stroke that cut the turquoise surface like a knife. They were identical twins, both forty-one, both devastatingly handsome with the same dark hair, square jaws, and powerful builds honed by their respective professions. Nate’s power was financial, a quiet, commanding authority; Brandon’s was physical, a vibrant, kinetic energy that had always drawn Geoff in. “Get in here, you lazy punk!” Brandon called, shaking water from his hair like a dog. “Your old man’s going to turn into a fossil over there.” Nate didn’t look up from his phone. “I’m managing our portfolio, not turning into a fossil. There’s a difference. It involves making money, something you two should consider.” Geoff laughed and dove in, the cool water a shock against his sun-warmed skin. The three of them fell into their familiar rhythm of roughhousing. It was a language they spoke fluently, a mix of wrestling holds, dunking contests, and verbal jabs. Geoff, the state champion, was a formidable opponent, but the combined strength and experience of the two men was overwhelming. They were a tangle of muscle and laughter, the water churning around them. Brandon would grab Geoff in a playful headlock, and Nate would join in to tickle his ribs until he gasped for air, surrendering with a splash. It was horseplay, but it was also intimacy, a way of touching and reaffirming their bond that was as natural as breathing. After nearly an hour, they collapsed onto the plush, sun-drenched lounge chairs, chests heaving. Nate, ever the provider, produced a bottle of expensive, coconut-scented tanning oil. “Alright, you animals. On your stomachs. You don’t want to burn.” Geoff and Brandon complied, lying side by side, their faces turned toward each other on the padded arms of the chairs. Nate knelt between them, pouring the cool oil into his palms. He started with Brandon, his strong hands working the oil into the broad expanse of his brother’s back, his movements practiced and efficient. Then he moved to Geoff. His touch was gentler on his son, a paternal caress that still carried the memory of rubbing sunscreen on a small boy at the beach. He worked his way down Geoff’s back, over the sculpted ridges of his wrestler’s lats, toward the small of his back. As his thumbs swept just above the waistband of Geoff’s black Speedo, they froze. Nate’s hands hovered for a second, then he leaned in closer, his brow furrowed in confusion. “What the hell is this?” he asked, his voice low. Geoff twisted his head to look back, a smirk playing on his lips. Brandon, propped on his elbows, watched his brother with an unreadable expression. Nate’s gaze was fixed on Geoff’s lower back, just inches above the stark white tan line. There, inked into the skin, was the unmistakable, stark symbol: a black and yellow biohazard trefoil. Without thinking, Nate’s eyes flicked to his brother, who was still lying on his stomach. He reached over and hooked a thumb into the waistband of Brandon’s Speedo, pulling it down just an inch. There it was. An identical mark. A perfect match. He sat back on his heels, the playful atmosphere evaporating, replaced by a sudden, sharp tension. The air felt thick. “Brandon?” Nate’s voice was tight, a mix of confusion and alarm. “Geoff? What is this? What is going on?” Brandon finally rolled over, sitting up. He looked at Nate, his expression calm, almost serene. He reached out and rested a hand on Geoff’s still-oiled back. “It’s a symbol, Nate. It’s about a choice. A community.” “What kind of community uses a symbol for toxic waste?” Nate shot back, his voice rising. He looked from his brother to his son, his face a mask of paternal concern. “Geoff, you’re eighteen. This is… this is permanent. What kind of influence is this?” He glared at Brandon, the accusation clear. Brandon stood up, his powerful body glistening in the sun. He looked down at his twin, his brother, his roommate. There was no anger in his eyes, only a profound certainty. “Stop worrying, Nate. It’s not what you think.” He paused, letting the weight of his next words land. “You want to know what it means? You want to understand?” He gestured towards the house with a nod of his head. “Then you need to come with us tonight. The Midtowne Spa. Everything will be revealed there.”

I’m starting one here. Please delete if it’s not allowed. jim

I started late at 46 but quit counting after 1000. I just kept going… lol

Looking forward to hearing more

even better when it is out loud

I enjoy reading these forums, even though I generally refrain from participating here. I didn't read the political discussion here for a long time, and still for the most part keep my sex and politics separate. I will say however I have used points made here on the political forums I am active on.

I prefer joining in rather than just watching. I occasionally have hookups get pissed off at me for inviting our audience to join in, especially in the PNW where unfortunately I rarely get an audience even in a bathhouse.

I am a sex addicted faggot just moved to LA. Looking for dom tops that want to whore my pussy out regularly. I can pay for a motel but prefer if you can host with easy access. Can be a masc jock or a feminized sissy whatever you prefer. HMU!

Ummm please - unleash the full potential of what you started ...

Hot, do the bottoms bleed from such a wrecking? Or think they have had enough?

gotta love twins doing the deed

Fuck yes please continue

Probably less than 30. I don’t hook up often but i occasionally have plenty of repeat sessions with the same guys.

Sorry if this is already being covered. How sad and tragic to lose someone so young. [think before following links] https://www.pride.com/culture/celebrities/adult-film-star-scott-finn-death

6 1/2 inches

Sluts are to be admired, not shamed. They have more fun than most of us. Never 'enough'.

Watchers are good to a point, as long as they join or eventually take a break and come back is ok. But standing there for hours is kinda stalkerish, but honestly being face down I have no idea. Lol I love being watched while being used, as others watch and get turned on they usually take a turn or two, which is even a bigger turn on for me.

A few years ago, i met up with hookup from scruff. This middle eastern bear had a very sub side. After licking my boots and a bj. He want to get fucked, bare was fine. But he didnt have any lube. (he didnt fuck much). But he did have vaseline. I left his hole a full of it and my load.

I have always swallowed my own cum the moment my balls pumped out my first cumload. I love how great my cum tastes. My fuckbuds have also enjoyed the taste of my seed. If they’re not getting it up their ass, they’re swallowing it. If I’m getting bred my favorite use of my cum is to have the top make me cum hands free and then scoop it up and coat his cock and fuck it up my ass to mix with his cum