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I was widowed when I was 25, with identical boy twins that were at the time 8, and left with a mortgage to pay and several other bills, as well as two hungry growing male mouths to feed. Needless to say, my life became very different, very difficult, just because of some fool that couldn't put his damn phone down in an intersection.
I became a secretary and with the help of my parents and my in laws, I could leave the kids and go work as a secretary for a law firm. I had gotten a community college education, nothing special, and thankfully with just that I managed to get that job and feed my boys and watch them grow and develop. After a few years, with much deserved raises and promotions, I got to the point where I was self sustainable and didn't need the little extra financial help each side of grandparents helped me with each month. I was proud of where I had gotten from where my life had seemed to have ended.
Even with all those successes and the ones not mentioned, my greatest success by far we're my twins. I didn't remarry, so Greg and Tony were my only children. They were extremely cooperative with the economic situation throughout their young life and were rarely a problem with extra expenses. They weren't greedy and didn't constantly ask me to buy them things; they conformed to the lifestyle for now while working hard to be more later. And still, especially because of that attitude, I gave them the things they needed when they needed them, and whenever I found out they wanted a certain toy or shirt I would save up to buy it for them. It was tough, the life they were forced to live, but I am confident I raised them right, with priorities outside of material things.
They did well in school, like I had them do. They didn't graduate high school at the top of their class and didn't always appear in the roster for the highest level classes, but they were not allowed to get anything below a B at the end of the year and they certainly had better not get in trouble. Not for their own good. They got good recommendation letters from their teachers and with almost a year long search for scholarships for both, my twin boys got into the state University, me only having to pay about nine hundred a year for both. And they also helped me out since they were sixteen, both of them getting jobs at grocery stores and later upgrading to a hardware store. They still worked there at nineteen and now payed their own tuition.
It was difficult looking at them sometimes in my moments where I missed my late husband because they looked so much like him when he was their age. They had his light brown hair, hazel eyes, and bronze skin. Typical Greek looking boys. They didn't take a lot of genes from me, at least not in terms of looks. I was short, 5', and they were both 6'1". I was pale in contrast to them, and dirty blonde with blue eyes. I told them they were almost clones of their father, and they just laughed, saying I was exaggerating.
We live in a modest neighborhood quite close to the college they go to, so they live at home with me. The houses in the small development are very separated compared to others, so most houses have at least a third of an acre of land, even though most houses don't have more than three rooms. We live in a two bedroom house, made for either a very small family or a lower class family. With the size my boys were I don't think we fall into the first category, and with my job and their own income together we don't fall into the second category either, so I say we live there out of convenience, plus, I'm about to finish paying the mortgage and they will soon move out on their own.
This morning Greg had finally broken through the old wood that held his mattress above Tony in his and Tony's bunk bed and fallen hard on top of a sleepy Tony. I say finally because that bunk bed has been holding up about 210 pounds of bone and muscle, and it was way more than a decade old. Him falling on top of Tony broke Tony's half of the bed too, so we were in quite a dilemma.
When I heard the crash I woke up with a panic, sprinting up the stairs about four stair steps per step of my own, which was a lot considering I am so small, and opened their door to see both of my handsome boys groaning on top of each other, one in deep pain and the other severely confused, both barely even awake.
"What-??!!" I practically screamed. I didn't even ask them what happened since it was obvious and they were not answering me in their current state.
So I went over to them, watching for shards of old wood from splintering my bare feet and helped Greg up from his mattress, which a shocked Tony was literally bench pressing up from his scratched up, bloody torso. Then me and Greg got the mattress and shards of cross pieces of wood off of Tony and helped him up. I heard too many cracks in their bodies and so much blood on Tony's torso that I just burst out in tears when I looked at Tony and Greg's wide open eyes. They comforted me as well as they could, Greg having a better capacity since Tony was all scratched up. He wasn't too bad but it was old wood and it scratched him up bad enough in several places, even if they weren't deep. I took them both downstairs to the kitchen, where I had treated every knee scrape they had gotten and kissed every bruise from wrestling each other. Greg chucked the tissues from the awkwardly located medicine cabinet in the kitchen at Tony, who began dabbing them on his shirtless torso.
That's when I realized for the first time what body type they had that was definitely a gene of mine and my family's. I had very large breasts for my size, and a very curvy body with a round butt that made my husband go crazy when he was *ahem* alive in bed with me. My parents also had very sexualized bodies, my dad being gorgeous even at his fifty years now and my mother equally hot, with bodies that turned heads even at their age. That was me now, and I never truly realized until now what my son's had gotten from me when I come to genes.
As I frantically looked for antibiotic cream and bandages I realized what I had in the kitchen with me. Through the shock of what happened upstairs I never realized that both Greg and Tony had been naked the whole time! And as I walked into the kitchen after Tony had begun dabbing the lines of blood from his torso I didn't see that they were not only shirtless, but pantless too!!
And sweet heavens were they both hung like horses!! Turning back from getting everything I needed to treat Tony I saw their impressive packages unpacked. When I saw the ratio of Tony's cock to his thigh I screamed. Greg laughed, and then Tony joined when he realized, but I yelled at Greg to run and get them both shorts immediately.
"Are you serious; do you always sleep naked?" I asked after I sent Greg away, spraying Tony's muscular torso with hydrogen peroxide to clean the small but several wounds.
"Yeah, Mom. Always. I thought you knew! And it's not like you're my mom, haha, plus you've seen us before" he said. I had a hard time not taking a good look at my own son's handsome member, which was softly pulsating due probably to a morning bone that was scared away by the incident.
"That's exactly why I should not see you like this. Don't do this again. At least wear compression shorts or boxer underwear. Please!" I said a little annoyed. I totally ignored his comment on seeing them naked before, because he was smart enough to figure out it was irrelevant I had seen their underdeveloped penises when they were toddlers.
"Ok, mom," he said chuckling.
