From: bobandcarole@aol.com   
      
   Story: Twice the Fun (Mgg, ped, con)   
      
      
   by bobandcarole   
      
      
      
      
      
   I was working on the final chapters of my latest book when I heard the   
   moving van come to a stop outside. My former neighbors (a very nice   
   elderly couple who had lived next door to me for several years) had   
   retired to Florida a few weeks ago. I lived in a four unit condo style   
   town home. In fact, that’s what the whole neighborhood was, and I was   
   sorry to see them go. They were one of the few neighbors I had gotten to   
   know, always having the bachelor writer over for dinner and telling me   
   how much their granddaughter enjoyed my books. I met her once, a very   
   cute eight-year old who had me Autograph all the books she owned that   
   were written by me. I got up from my computer and looked out the front   
   window, watching the movers open up their truck and begin carrying boxes   
   and furniture into the unit next door. I didn’t see any signs of the   
   owners of these belongings however, so I went back to my desk figuring   
   I’d meet them when they got settled in.   
   I hadn’t been working very long when I heard someone knocking lightly on   
   my door. When I opened it I was momentarily speechless, for there on my   
   doorstep were a pair of identical twin girls, smiling shyly at me. They   
   were about nine or ten-years old, each with long brown hair and dressed   
   in shorts and tank tops, revealing well tanned, shapely limbs.   
   “Hi!” said the one on the left.   
   “We’re your new neighbors!” piped the one on the right.   
   I silently thanked my guardian angel for delivering these two pretty   
   young things into my life, into a neighborhood sorrowfully short of   
   young girls... and into the unit next door!   
   The girl on the right was looking up at me rather curiously, her head   
   cocked to one side, almost as if she knew what I was thinking. I   
   realized I had been staring. I held out a finger and made a show of   
   bringing it closer to my nose, following it with my eyes until they   
   crossed. “I seem to have been sitting at my computer too long,” I   
   teased. “I’m seeing double.”   
   They giggled at my small joke and the left one said, grinning, “You’re   
   not seeing double, we’re twins! I’m Terri and that’s my baby sister,   
   Tammy.”   
   Tammy gave her twin a withering look and said, “Will you STOP calling me   
   that? You’re only five minutes older than I am!”   
   Hoping to head off a sisterly battle I intervened. “I’m pleased to meet   
   you,” I said quite honestly. “I’m Tom.”   
   Tammy, the girl on the right, looked at me strangely again. “I know,”   
   she said as if I were stating the obvious.   
   As soon as she said it her sister looked sharply at her and elbowed her   
   in the ribs. Tammy’s face immediately became worried, as if she’d been   
   caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to do.   
   “How do you know my name already?” I asked, wondering what was going on.   
   Terri’s eyes darted quickly around until they landed on my door, still   
   standing open.   
   “There,” she said, looking relieved, “your name’s on the door: ‘Tom   
   Jannings’.”   
   Of course, I thought, it’s right there for all to see. “You girls are   
   pretty quick. You’d make good detectives,” I said, smiling at them. “Are   
   you all through moving in already?” I could see the movers starting to   
   clean up.   
   “Almost,” said Terri. “Mom’s inside unpacking, but she said to ‘get out   
   of her hair’ for awhile.”   
   “We were only trying to help,” Tammy informed me, sounding slightly hurt   
   that their efforts hadn’t been appreciated.   
   “Is your Dad still at work or something?” I asked, wondering why he   
   hadn’t been mentioned.   
   “No,” said Terri, hesitantly. “He doesn’t live with us anymore.”   
   “He doesn’t even want to SEE us anymore,” said Tammy, looking dejected.   
   I could tell this was a sore topic, and knew they probably blamed   
   themselves for their parents’ separation. Young kids almost always do. I   
   changed the subject. “Would you like to come in for a drink or something   
   or shall we carry on our conversation in the doorway?” They looked at   
   each other and finally Tammy nodded, as if to tell her sister it was   
   okay to go in. I ushered them into the kitchen, noticing how they stared   
   at the ‘Prince’ poster on the wall of my living room, the one with a   
   young, barely covered girl with her hands on her head, standing over   
   Prince. As I got some glasses and ice they sat at the table and began   
   their own questioning.   
   “Are you married?” asked one.   
   “No.”   
   “You live here alone?” asked the other.   
   “Yes.”   
   “Any girlfriends?”   
   “No.”   
   “How old are you?”   
   “32.”   
   “Don’t you work?” They were obviously wondering why I was home in the   
   afternoon on a weekday.   
   “Yes.” I felt like I was playing twenty questions, being grilled by   
   identical inquisitors.   
   “Well, what do you do?”   
   “I write books.” I gave them their sodas and sat down.   
   “Thanks,” they said simultaneously, then they looked at each other and   
   giggled at their stereo effect. I looked at them closely and could see   
   that if I got to know them better I would probably be able to tell them   
   apart. There were subtle differences in their expressions and   
   appearances, the way they smiled and carried themselves. I hoped I WOULD   
   get to know them better! They were certainly very cute, and definitely   
   sexy, both with dark brown eyes and expressive faces, and sexy,   
   nymphette bodies full of girlish energy. I found myself staring at their   
   slender frames, wondering how long it would be before they began   
   developing tits beneath that tempting skin covered by their tanktops.   
   “How old are you two?” My turn for questions.   
   “Nine,” answered the one I thought was Tammy. “Almost ten,” added her twin.   
   “Are you from around Chicago, or did you move here from somewhere else?”   
   “We used to live right in the city,” explained Terri, taking a drink,   
   “but we moved to here in Glenwood ‘cause Mom got transferred.”   
   “What’s your mom do?”   
   “She’s a nurse at the hospital,” said Tammy proudly. Having a   
   conversation with these two was like watching a tennis match. Tammy   
   looked at me and smiled, as if to say she knew it, it’s just the way   
   they were.   
   “Hey!” exclaimed Terri, looking at me as if she’d suddenly realized   
   something. “Are you the same Tom Jannings that wrote all those books we   
   have?”   
   “Well, I don’t know what books you have but I’m the only Tom Jannings   
   that I know of.” I grinned at her slyly.   
   I really did love being recognized by my young fans. My books were   
   written mainly for (and about) young girls, full of stories that showed   
   them to be just as adventurous and daring as their male counterparts,   
   not like other stories which often showed little girls as shy and sissy,   
   only interested in sewing or dolls. My stories also were about everyday   
   stuff like new siblings, school, divorce, even one about death. I always   
   answered every letter I got from a reader, and also from appreciative   
   parents who were grateful that my books had turned their kids onto reading.   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)