I have written radio commercials for years. The ability to sell something with a limited number of words in a limited amount of time might be considered an art-form in itself. Even so, I have never considered myself an author of serious literature. So this is my first attempt at writing a story for publication. It is a work of fiction; the people and most of the places exist only in my own mind. Some of the people and some of the events are based on actual people and events from my own past. I have tried to surround these characters and events with enough camouflage that their true identities remain secret.
I owe a great debt of gratitude to the many authors who post their works here on the Nifty archive. I suppose I was inspired by their hard work and determination to create something of my own, something which may never rival their stories, but which ... I hope ... will bring some measure of enjoyment to the reader.
Mike Williams The Oregon Coast August 2004
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This story deals with adult themes, primarily same-gender sexual relations. Such relations have their basis in love and commitment, rather than sex for the sake of sex alone. In some cases they will use protection; at other times they will not. You and I should always use protection because we do not live in the world of fiction.
If you are offended the idea of homosexuality or if you are under the age of consent or if you reside in an area where such things are considered illegal or immoral, then you should seek entertainment elsewhere.
Comments may be directed to the author at thornado5@netscape.net
This story is copyright 2004 by Mike Williams. All rights reserved. Thou shalt not steal.
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A Thousand Rainbows by Mike Williams
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It seemed there were more bicycles than cars in town of Bridgewater, Oregon. Even though it was early November, the mid-afternoon sun was warm as he pedaled along Pioneer Trail, the network of bike-paths that wound along the Willamette River and through the heart of the town. Just one more half-mile, and he would be home.
Brian Connor was 38, just a little above average in height, with green eyes and sandy brown hair that just reached his shoulders. Through his helmet, he could feel the wind rushing through his hair. The walkers and joggers along the trail created a maze that he navigated with ease.
Pulling off the trail, he turned his bike into the suburban street that would lead him home. His well-maintained bicycle glided almost effortlessly into the driveway of 2410 West Brunswick Road, the home he shared with his partner and their twin boys. He dismounted and walked the bike around the house to the backyard.
Born on the same day at the same Hartford hospital, their paths and those of their families had somehow never crossed until a fortunate stroke of fate assigned them to share a dorm room at a boys prep school in Connecticut. From that moment on, Brian Connor and Bjorn Larkin were inseparable. They both attended the University of the Cascades following high school, and they had chosen to settle in Bridgewater, where they opened a photo studio and gallery.
He hung his bicycle in the garage and entered the house where he was greeted with music. Brian realized that 14-year-old Jason and Josh were already home from school, hanging out in their bedroom. He thought it odd that they would not be outside tossing a football or kicking a soccer ball on such a beautiful afternoon. He kicked off his shoes by the backdoor and padded through the kitchen and up the spiral staircase in the center of the house to the second floor.
At the top of the landing Brian recognized the music as one of the boys' own compositions, one they had been crafting for nearly a month. What did they call this one ... "A Thousand Rainbows"? It was part of a CD of original pieces they would submit for a class project.
Brian paused to admire the melody and noticed the addition of a horn section. "Nice touch," he thought. There were times when Brian could swear that a symphony orchestra had taken up residence in their home. But it was only a good computer with some composition software, which he and Bjorn had given the boys the previous Christmas.
He let the music totally surround him as he wandered down the hall toward the twins' bedroom. The door was about halfway open, and Brian was about poke his head in, to compliment the boys on their accomplishment. But what he saw caused his jaw to drop, if only for a moment.
There, on one of the beds, Jason and Josh lay on their sides, naked, in the classic 69 position. In less than a heartbeat Brian realized what was happening, and he quickly and quietly withdrew to his own bedroom, leaving the twins to finish pleasuring each other.
From across the hall he could hear the telltale sounds ... the ragged breathing, the whimpers and moans ... that signaled an impending orgasm, two impending orgasms, as Josh and Jason blew their loads together.
Brian remained silent, out of sight, in the master bedroom as the boys finished their business and left the house for a game of one-on-one soccer in the backyard. He knew the boys were close; as twins, it would have been difficult to have it any other way. But he was beginning to realize just how close they were. Brian had never done anything like that with his own brother. But, then, they had never really been close.
He and Bjorn would have to speak to boys, but ... how to approach the subject? Was it just two boys experimenting, exploring their bodies, or something more? Brian let his memories take over, as he recalled the first time he and Bjorn expressed their feelings for each other.
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to be continued in Chapter 2