The Legend of the Ditto Twins (16 page)

After
"Jeopardy" was over, I related the phone conversation to Clay. He
listened with a small, sardonic smile crinkling the left corner of his mouth.

"Don't
you fuckin worry, I'll handle this. But not tonight. Let her stew for
twenty-four hours. Besides, I'm dragging ass. Think I'll call it a night. The
lawn looks fuckin great. You didn't have to."

"No
problem," I replied, suddenly embarrassed.

"Sorry
to
fink
out on you. What're you gonna do?"

"I
don't know. Where's Lily?"

"Out
with her fuckin' aerobics instructor. She still thinks he's bi." He
released one of his wonderful laughs and started out of the room. "Oh, I
know. You like movies?"

"Sure."

"See
those two big fuckin' music cabinets over there?" He pointed. "DVDs.
The one on the left is the mainstream stuff. The one on the right is the porn.
Help yourself."

I stared
at the cabinets for a full five minutes before I tiptoed over and opened the
one on the right. Leaning in, I ran my fingers over the top row of DVD cases,
half-expecting them to singe my fingers. When that didn't happen, I pulled one
out and studied the cover. An exotic brunette was offering her enormous breasts
to me.

"Huh,"
I said, maybe out loud, and replaced it.

The
entire top shelf was devoted to similar DVDs of big
boobed
women, all arranged in alphabetical order by title. As I examined each one, I
kept wondering what Clark would think. Or Mom. I squatted down to get a better
view of the second shelf's contents. The first title was
Bi
and
Beyond.
There was a man on the cover, no two—both naked except for
their well-packed jockstraps—and, oh yes, a woman.

Guiltily,
I peeked back over my shoulder, half-expecting Mom to be standing there.
Snickering nervously, I replaced it, surprised that almost every title on the
shelf began with the word "Bi."
Bi-Bi Love, Bi-Coastal, Bi-
Ology
,
Bi-Racial Romps, The Bi-
Onic
Sisters,
right down to
Bi-
Zarre
Bazaar.
Unable
to choose, I stared at the five finalists in my lap. That's when I remembered
the third shelf.

As if I
didn't already have an embarrassment of riches from which to choose, I reached
for the first DVD on that third shelf. It was called
All American Boys,
and the
two hunky teenagers embracing on the cover left no doubt as to what it was all
about. Hastily, I replaced all the bisexual titles and began to peruse every
single disc in this new category.

It wasn't
long before I found the one that unquestionably demanded to be my introduction
to porn. It was called
Rest
Stop Blowjobs.

In my
room, the DVD player and the TV rested side by side on a bureau opposite the
foot of the four-poster. I inserted the disc, flopped down, and settled in to
watch.

The movie
started with this hunky blond guy pulling his convertible off the highway into
a rest stop. When he got out of his car, you could see he was wearing a blue
tank top, faded cutoffs, and sneakers. Reminded me a little bit of Clark.
Within seconds, he was in the men's room, standing at a urinal, back to the
camera, which was focused on his cute little butt. Could have been Clark's. The
blond's
hand went directly to his crotch, and his arm
began to move rhythmically. Although couldn't see what he was doing, you knew.
At least, I did.

Pretty
soon, a macho marine in dress blues sauntered in and marched right up to the
urinal next to the blond. They sized each other up for maybe five seconds
before zeroing in on each other's package. That's when the camera cut to a
close-up of what they were ogling. Both were very well endowed, and their dicks
practically filled the screen. I wondered briefly how the cameraman managed to
get this head-on shot through the bathroom wall, but not for long, because I
was soon distracted by what they were doing.

The
marine took off his white dress cap, tossed it away, and squatted down. The
camera moved in closer and closer as he eased nearer and nearer to the blonds
waiting hard-on. It twitched, and the jarhead dove forward to sample it.

I flipped
over on my stomach and twisted around so my head was now at the foot of the bed
to get a closer view. By then, the blond was kneeling in front of the marine to
reciprocate. Little by little, he took the jarhead's erection into his mouth
until it completely disappeared. Clark and I learned later that this was known
as deep-
throating
, but right then I was so engrossed,
I couldn't have cared less what they called it.

Frankly,
it was all kind of spooky, because in the close-ups of the blond going at it,
he looked more like Clark than ever. It wasn't long b
efore I closed my eyes to try and imagine that I was the
marine.

When I opened
them, the scene was over and the blond guy was driving out of the rest stop
onto the highway. At once, I hit the stop button, pretty sure that if I watched
any more, I'd probably start jerking off, and I was determined not to open that
giant economy-size jar of Vaseline till Clark and I were in bed together again.

I spent
the next morning working on the inventory while Clay sat at his desk and paid
bills. During lunch hour, I made a bank deposit, picked up a prescription, and
stopped to get an application for a driver's license. When I got back, he asked
me for his first cigarette of the day.

As I lit
his Marlboro, he nodded and announced, "I called your mother while you
were out."

"How
did it go?"

He smiled
that lecherous smile of his. "Let's just say,
Clark'll
be here tomorrow."

"Clay...
How did you manage that?"

He blew a
smoke ring. "How does your cell phone work?"

"I
haven't tried it yet."

"Better
find out. What movie did you watch last night?"

"Uh...
I don't remember the title."

"No
lies, buddy. Of course you remember."

"I...
I'd never seen porn before."

"What'd
you think?"

"It
was... compelling."

He
tousled my hair. "I've got a doctor's appointment. Find something to do. I'll
be back in time for 'Jeopardy.'" At the door, he stopped. "You ever
gonna tell me the title?"

I could
barely get the words out.
"Rest Stop Blowjobs."

"Oh.
One of my
faves
."

He exited
on a paroxysm of laughter.

After I
stopped dying, I sat there in the office for a long time trying to decipher
exactly what he had just told me. I needed to discuss it with Clark. Checking
the time, I got out my cell phone.
My
cell phone. The call was answered on the first ring.

"'Bout
time."

"Clark!"

"It just
came. Tell Uncle Clay I love it."

"Where
are you?"

"In
the kitchen, but its okay. Mom's not here."

"What
did she say about the cell phone?"

"She
was already gone shopping when it came."

"What're
you gonna tell her?"

"I
dunno." He giggled. "Maybe the truth."

We talked
for over an hour, catching up, covering every single detail of the last few
days that we could remember. After Clark gave me a graphic description of Go-To
Guy's performance in the woods, he asked me, "If you let someone go down
on you, does that make you queer?" After I waxed eloquent on the joys of
Clay's pornography collection, I asked him, "If you go down on someone,
does
that
make you queer?" We talked about blowjobs for a long
time.

"I
don't think I could get into blowjobs," I said. "Well, except with
you, maybe"

"I
was just about to say, that's pretty much the way I feel, too. Yeah, only with
you, for sure."

"I
don't think it counts..."

"...
if you do it with your brother."

"Well,
of course not. That wouldn't
be..."

"...
queer."

"Exactly!"

"Oh,
shit! Mom's back. Better go. See you tomorrow. You'll recognize me, I'll be the
one with the raging hard-on."

"No, that'll be me! And hey, ditto, ditto, ditto."

"Ditto, ditto, ditto"

The bus
pulled in right on time the next evening, and Clark was the first one off. I
broke away from Clay and Lily and raced to embrace him. We hugged as if we hadn't
seen each other in years, pressing so close that we seemed to meld into one
body, and yes, we had matching erections. I hoped no one could see the bulges
in our jeans, and I was glad I'd had the foresight to wear Clark's jockstrap.
That seemed to keep my goods in check. Of course, I knew he was wearing mine,
too, for precisely the same reason. God, we do think alike. We came this close
to kissing right there in the Greyhound depot, but somehow managed not to.
After all, Clay was videotaping the entire reunion.

"I'm
gonna suck your dick tonight," Clark whispered in my ear. "You know
that, don't you?"

I shifted
to find his ear. "Not before I suck yours."

"Maybe
we can find a way to do it at the same time."

In honor
of Clark's arrival, Clay took us out to a fancy French restaurant. You know,
white tablecloths, menus with tassels, a cocktail pianist, and more silverware
than we'd ever seen in our life. Clark and I sat opposite each other, trying
our damnedest not to show how cowed we were.

It was
Lily who saved the day. "Why don't you order for all of us, Clay? You know
this place better than we do." She turned to Clark. "Okay, tell me
all your secrets. I know all of Mark's already, and he knows all of mine. Shall
we go clubbing tonight? Or we could go tomorrow night."