I had all the wrong reasons for wanting to be young again. My eighty-year-old life was not precious. I had nothing to offer this world. My brain, my i...eas, my attitudes had all calcified. I was a hardened conservative. Well, as they say, ‘If you aren’t a conservative at eighty, you have no brain.’ I’ve added to that. ‘If you are STILL a conservative at seventeen, you have no heart.’ And, in fact, you didn’t have one at eighty, either. What I had backward was believing my precious life was worth. I look down at both of them, both of them are pointing up at me, I could see the little slit at the tips, the graceful sweep of them as they curve downward, they a truly beautiful things I thought, With slightly trembling hands I reach over and run my fingertips over the soft head of my brother’s cocks. I run both my hands down their cocks, I tentatively touch their balls, being extra careful because I know boys are very sensitive there. I cradled my brother’s balls delicately in my palms of. More

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