MY KID BROTHER

By Lee Mariner

© 2003


The author's copyright, dated June 2003, and all provisions of the original disclaimer remain in force. All rights are reserved.

This story depicts homosexual acts and is intended for ADULT readers only. If you are not of legal age in your locality, please leave.

My friend Dean has edited this work and his assistance is greatly appreciated.

All of my stories can be found  in the Nifty Archives listing of Prolific Authors under the pen name of Lee Mariner.

If any reader would wish to be notified of future episodes of this and/or any other story, please contact me at:

mariner23502@hotmail.com

Chapter XVIII

The traffic, street and sidewalk, seemed to have increased while we were in Jake's office completing the paper work for the cottage.  The sidewalks were crowded with people in shorts or bathing suits, and kids were everywhere.  I could feel Dalton's excitement as we walked back to the car.  Lake Gaston had really changed since my Boy Scout days. 

The afternoon sun burned like a red hot ember in a cloudless sky, and I could feel sweat running down my ribs.  It didn't seem to bother most of the scantily clad adults, and most of the kids were various shades of brown.  When we reached the car, Dalton stood looking out at the lake; and I could almost read  his mind.

"Man, Carl, that water looks inviting.  We should have brought swim suits with us, then we could take a swim before we go home."


Sure," I said but not unsympathetically.  "Swim in that sun without suntan lotion, and we both would be burnt to a cinder."

"I bet we could find some at one of the stores, and we could swim in our shorts," he suggested, his eyes sparkling, excitedly.

"We have all next week for swimming, Dalt."

"Jeepers, Carl, there you go, being logical again. Wouldn't you like to take a swim?" He said a little dejected.

"Of course, I would, but I don't want to have to beat the girls off of you," I said, kidding.


"Girls!!! You mean the boys, don't you?  I saw some pretty hot ones walking around," he said grinning as we got into the car.

"Whatever, little brother. Lets drive back up to the cottage, I want to look it over again."

"What for?  Jake said it had everything we would need, except food."

"He didn't mention sheets and towels, Dalt. I'm pretty sure we need to bring our own, but lets check before we head home."

"Mom's got plenty, if we do need them," he said, as he backed out of the parking space.

                                     * * * * * * * * * *

"I didn''t notice how thick the trees were up here before, Carl," Dalton said as we drove up the gravel drive and around behind the cottage. 

"The trees and being isolated are things I like about it, Dalt.  It's a lot cooler and less noisy here than in town. I don't see why people like being crowded in, just to be close to the water," I answered.

"Me neither, we can run around naked; and no one will see us," he said, grinning at me.

"I didn't know you were a nudist, Dalt."

"I am when I'm alone, Carl. I only wear a jockstrap when I work out; and I never wear anything when I'm alone in the basement," he said as he got out of the car, pulling his shirt off and throwing it on the car roof.

His thick, wavy dark hair glinted in the sunshine, his  smooth sculpted chest glistening, reflecting the rays of the sun filtering down through the trees. Stretching his arms over his head he clasped his hands and threw his head back, looking up at the sky as he swayed from side to side, his muscles rippling sensuously. My cock started to lengthen from the desire building in my loins. "Jesus, Dalt, you're beautiful," I whispered more to myself than to him. He dropped  his arms and turned, looking at me, his soft brown eyes glistening, a devilish smile playing across his face. I knew he was feeling the same excitement I was.

"Carlie," he said as he moved around the front of the car, "have you ever had sex with someone out in the open?"

"No," I fibbed, as he moved closer, thoughts of the blow jobs guys had given me in bushes flashing through my mind.

"Then it will be the first time for both of us," he said, taking my shirt in both hands and pulling it over my head, throwing it on the roof top with his.

"Dalton," I protested weakly, slowly succumbing to the sensation of his hands moving over my chest, kneading my breast muscle.

"What's the matter, big brother, still can't handle your kid brother?" he whispered, putting his arms around me and pulling us together.

"God," I breathed softly, as I put my arms on his shoulders, leaning my forehead against his. "You're not only gorgeous,; you're sexy as hell."

"Just like you, Carlie, just like you," he whispered softly, pressing his lips to mine with his tongue probing impatiently.

Opening my lips, his tongue darted into my mouth twisting and searching. The pressure of his arms around me felt like steel bands contracting; and I moaned more from the pressure of his hips grinding, pressing his hard cock against mine than his arms holding me tight.

"Dalton," I groaned passionately, when, with a sudden twist he drove me back against the car, his muscles tightening; and I felt his body shudder.

"Carlie, Carlie," he whimpered, gnashing his teeth. "I can't hold it," he groaned, throwing his head back and driving his pelvis against mine.

The muscles in his chest and neck thickened from the strain of trying to prevent his climax, but he didn't succeed. A long deep sigh escaped from his lips, as he leaned heavily into me.  I felt the warmth of his semen spreading between us. A feeling of ecstasy spread over me when, for a brief moment, it felt like I was going to join him; but the feeling in my loins slowly subsided as he relaxed in my arms.

I held him loosely, enjoying the feeling of his bare chest on mine while his heart beat and breathing returned to normal.  "Jesus, Dalt," I breathed softly when he lifted his head and brushed his lips over mine, cutting off the rest of what I was about to say.   His eyes were twinkling; and, when he started to slide down over me to his knees, I knew what he was going to do.

"Dalt," I said weakly, trying to protest as he unsnapped my shorts and, sliding the zipper down, pulled them down around my ankles.  "You don't have to do thisssssssssss," I groaned as his lips touched the head of my turgid cock.

"I want it," he growled softly, with emotion; and I tensed briefly as his mouth opened, his lips covering the head of my cock. His teeth gently pushed the foreskin back, exposing the blood-engorged head to the washing of his tongue, as he took all he could. 

My legs went weak as I felt waves of hot lust washing over me; and, leaning over him, I cradled his head between my arms, whispering, "suck it, Dalt baby, suck it."

He took my nuts in one  hand and kneaded them gently as my cock slipped into the recesses of his hot mouth. When the head  touched the entrance to his throat he gagged; and I pulled back, my hips responding automatically.  We both hesitated for a moment; and then, as he sucked, I slowly fucked his mouth with a steady even piston movement.  Fires of hot lust burnt deep in my loins, and I could feel hot sperm rising as we both slipped into a surreal fog of sexual pleasure, his hot mouth a demanding vacuum. My cock hardened as the molten magma rushed upwards; and, when he raked his teeth over its swollen length, bolts of lightening flashed in my head; and, sucking air deep into my lungs, I thrust my hips forward violently as my cock exploded, filling his mouth.

Spasm after spasm sent streams of hot cream down his gulping throat, and I fell back against the car gasping for air. Dalton's greedy mouth sucked my softening cock, draining the last dregs of sperm until I couldn't stand the electrifying shocks of his tongue washing over the glans.  His lips resisted, draining the last drops of semen as I withdrew, and when he buried his face in the thickness of my pubic bush, I stroked his head, tangling my fingers in the thickness of his hair.

"Take it easy, Dalt," I said softly, dropping my hands away from his head as my cock slipped from his mouth.  "I can't stand but so much of that."

"It feels good though, doesn't it?" he said as he stood up and leaned against me again, grinning, his eyes shining brightly.

"What feels good?" I teased. "You sucking my cock or washing the head of it with your tongue?"

"Both," he chortled, "and you know it."

"You do a pretty good job of it for a beginner," I said, still teasing him.

"Maybe so, but, if I'd fucked you like I wanted to, you wouldn't call me a beginner," he said gleefully as he moved away, looking down at the front of his soaked shorts. "I got so frigging horny thinking about having sex with you in the open I couldn't hold myself."

"Fuck me!!" I exclaimed chuckling. "Who said you were going to do that?"

"You did, remember? You said I was all yours, and you were all mine,"  he said almost as a matter of fact.

"You got me there, horny toad, but you could have at least warned me of what you wanted."

"I would have, but I didn't have much of a chance Carl," he said glancing down at his shorts again, " What can I do about this mess?"

I almost laughed, looking at him. He had a look of uncomfortable misery in his eyes and the front of his shorts was completely soaked. 

"You should have saved that for later," I said, grinning.  "There's a roll of paper towels in the cottage kitchen. Wait here while I get it," I said as I rearranged my cock and shorts.   "You can clean most of it off, but you're going to have to wear them home."
 
He stood with his arms akimbo while I retrieved the paper towels from the cottage, and he was still standing the same way when I returned and handed the roll to him. 

I couldn't help but laugh a little when he pushed his shorts and briefs down, spreading his knees, so they wouldn't drop to the ground.  Despite his grace and beauty, he looked hobbled as he tried to hold his limp, sticky, but still impressive cock with one  hand while wiping the sperm from his silky thick pubic bush with the other.

"What a fucking mess," he said as he tried wiping  his pelvis and stomach clean.

He did look miserable, and I knew how frustrated he felt from the times I had shot my load inside my pants. 

"Pull your shorts up and lets go inside, Dalt.  You can use water from the kitchen faucets to clean up while I check on the towels and linens."  I said, trying to console him some.

                                                                       * * * * * * * * * *

Using the water in the kitchen, Dalton did manage to clean himself up pretty well. When he pulled his briefs up, he put three or four sheets of the towels inside them before he pulled his shorts up so he wouldn't feel the dampness.  I checked the cabinets and drawers downstairs and climbed the ladder up to the loft while he was cleaning himself.

"It looks like we will have to ask Mom if we can use some of hers, Dalt. The loft and downstairs bedroom both have doubles and none of the cabinets or drawers have any linens in them," I said as I came down from checking the loft. "You ready to go?"

"Guess so, I hope it dries before we get home," he said looking up at me as I came down the ladder.

"If it doesn't dry, walk behind me into the house when we get home and head on down to your room. If Mom or Dad say anything, I'll tell them you had to use the head. Okay?"

"The "head", what's that?" he asked, looking puzzled.

"The bathroom, dumdum, the bathroom," I said, grinning.

"Oh, the bathroom. I've never heard it called that before."

"Now you have, little brother, that's what it is called in the navy and the marines," I said.  "If you're ready, let's go."

"Carl," he said just before we went outside. "Do we have to have anyone here with us when we come back?"

"No, we don't have to, Dalt, but I thought you wanted to ask Jeff if he wanted to come up with us," I said, turning to face him.

"Wellll, I don't know, Carl, I kind of want to. Are you going to ask Tommy?"

"I'd thought about asking him if we go out tomorrow night.  You won't mind if I see him, will you?"

"No.........., not really, I don't," he answered, hesitating for a minute. "I don't mind; and I do mind, Carl, if that makes sense. I like Jeff and I guess you want to go out with Tommy which I can't blame you for because he's an awfully good looking guy.  I was sort of hoping it would just be you and me," he said, almost whispering and looking down at the floor.

"I'll make you a deal, Squirt," I said, lifting his arms up on my shoulders and pulling him to me.  "You ask Jeff if he wants to spend the weekend with us; I'll ask Tommy; and let's see how it works out. Okay?   Next week though, it will be just you and me; and we'll do whatever you want, I promise."

"Anything?" he said seductively, his eyes smiling into mine.

"Oh, Christ, Dalt," I groaned, faking exasperation and moving away from him.  "There are other things besides sex, you horny scamp."

"I know there are," he said following me. "I was just playing with you. I want us to go swimming, and maybe see if we can rent a sailboat."

"And you, my brother, will want to have sex in that sailboat. You don't fool me, Dalton," I said throwing his shirt at him.

"Hey!!" he said laughing as he pulled his shirt on and got into the car. "I hadn't thought about that."

"You would have." I said, half seriously, getting into the car as he started the engine.
               
                                                                     * * * * * * * * * * *

Twilight was just starting to set in when we turned in the drive leading to the house.  Dad's car was sitting where it usually sat; and, when I looked at Dalton, he shrugged his shoulders. 

"I guess Mom didn't tell him we cleaned the garage out this morning," he said as we drove around to the rear of the house.

"Maybe, but I doubt it, Dalt; the stuff we set outside is gone. You don't think he put it back inside, do you?"

"Nah, I doubt it.  Mom probably called the Salvation Army after we left; and they picked it up," he said as he threw his arm over the seat and backed up, parking along side the garage.

Dalton followed me into the house as I had suggested.  Mom and Dad were sitting at the table talking, having a cup of coffee.  They looked up when we opened the door; and, before anything was said, he bolted for the door leading to the basement.

"What is wrong with him, Carl?" Dad asked, looking at me in surprise.

"He had to use the head, Dad," I fibbed calmly as I circled the table and kissed Mother on the cheek. "He'll be right back, Mom."

"Well, I never," she said, turning to look at the door where Dalton had disappeared. 

I could see Dad puzzling for a minute before his face broke out in a broad grin, and he nodded his head.

"We called it the latrine when I was in the army, Mother," he said, patting her hand.

"The latrine, the head, whatever you call it," she said as she stood up.  "Why didn't you stop at a gas station on the way home Carlton?"

"We thought you might be holding supper for us," I fibbed again while pouring a cup of coffee.

"Carl, you know your Mother puts supper on the table at five-thirty," Dad said, gazing at me as he opened his newspaper.

"Yes sir," I answered, sitting down at the table.  "We were trying to make it back but, we were held up at Lake Gaston."

"Both of you were probably into some mischief," Mom said, an impish smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "I'm sure neither one of you ate a bite of the lunch I packed for you."

"Lunch!!" I exclaimed, looking at Mom wide eyed and suddenly remembering the over stuffed picnic basket in the trunk of Dalton's car.

"Yes, lunch," she said with a sigh of resignation.

"Mom, I'm sorry.  We completely forgot about it." I said softly, glancing at Dad, who was hiding behind his newspaper.

"Now why does that not surprise me, Carlton?  I don't know what you boys were thinking about.  That was a perfectly good lunch I fixed for you and your brother and now it's wasted; good food and it's wasted.  Your father and I aren't so rich we can afford to waste good food," she said, nervously smoothing her apron, her face flushed.

Silence descended on the room and I was at a loss for words, knowing she was right.  Dalton and I were playing in the woods, not thinking about anything except each other.  Not something I could tell her as the reason that her efforts had gone to waste.  I gulped as I was trying to think of a way to pacify her when Dad saved me.

"Elizabeth, you're getting yourself all upset over a few sandwiches.  I'm sure they were having a good time and forgot about the picnic basket, that's all," he said, trying to smooth it over.

"You're closer to right than you know," I thought to myself, trying with little success, to suppress a grin about his words, "having a good time."

"Oh, I should have known you would take up for them, William.  I can't win for losing with three men in my house," she answered with a sigh of resignation. 

Mother would often fuss, but seldom in anger.  Mostly it was an attempt to assert her authority over household functions.  When I was a boy, I had frequently been in mischief that usually resulted in a tongue lashing and not much more.  She rarely ever raised her voice; but, if she did and said, "wait until you Father gets home," that was big trouble.  I would hide in my room conjuring up all kinds of punishments he would subject me to while I waited in dread for him to come home.   Physical punishment was a rarity, but the added chores and restrictions were sufficient. 

                                                                                   * * * * * * * * * * *

For all of her bluster, Mom was at the stove fixing dinner plates from the food she had kept warm in the oven.  I took a sip of my almost cold coffee and glanced at Dad, who winked at me just as Dalton burst into the room.

"I'm sorry, Mom, Dad.  I just couldn't wait," he said just a little too cheerfully, and I held my breath waiting for a blast from Mother.  She turned, and giving him a withering look, said, "sit down and eat your supper."

I exhaled almost audibly, Dad grinned behind his newspaper and Dalton sat down with a puzzled look on his face, for once not saying anything.   Mother sat our plates in front of us; and, after pouring Dalton a glass of milk, she looked at the three of us before leaving the kitchen in a huff, as she usually did when she knew she was fighting a losing battle.

"Oh well," Dad said folding his newspaper, "it looks like my side of the bed will be cold for a couple of nights."

"Is Mom that mad, Dad," I asked while I sliced the roast beef on my plate.

"Mad, no........., not really.  Your mother rarely becomes angry as we think of anger.  If she were, I would be sleeping with you boys for a few nights until she cooled off.  No, not angry, but she will give me the cold shoulder until I mollify her.  Women are like that; they need soothing and assuring over almost any imaginary slight.  You boys, forgetting about the lunch she had fixed, upset her for two reasons.  She probably feels hurt that you might not appreciate what she did for you, but wasting food is a ''no, no" with her. It's hard forgetting the days of the depression." 

"We do appreciate it, Dad," Dalton blurted out, his mouth half full of mashed potatoes, "we just forgot about it."

"Then tomorrow, Dalton, why don't you and Carlton give her a hug and tell her.  That will get all three of us out of the dog-house," he said looking at both of us and folding his paper.

"Yes sir," we answered together.

"Good.  Are you coming down to the yard tomorrow, Carlton?  Mr. Miller was asking me today if you were going to stop in while you are home."

"Jesus, Dad, I completely forgot about your asking me to come to the yard," I said.

"I certainly hope forgetting things isn't becoming a trait, Carl. Mr. Miller has always liked both of you boys. Of course he has seen more of Dalton than you but I know he would like to see you."

"Will it be okay if Dalton and I come down tomorrow? Maybe we could go out for lunch or something," I said, glancing at Dalton.

"I'm not sure about lunch, but we'll see when you get there. Don't forget to put your dishes in the sink and don't forget about tomorrow," he said grinning as he pushed his chair back.

"We won't forget, Dad," I said very seriously and sincerely.

He didn't say anything and stood in the doorway for a few seconds, looking at us.  "I'll hold you to that," he said winking and smiling at us, with the same brown eyes Dalton and I had.

                                                                             * * * * * * * * * *

"Dalton," I said as we were finishing our supper. "We  had better go out to the car and empty that picnic basket.  It's been in the trunk all afternoon and  will probably start smelling if we don't."

"Jeez, Carl, I forgot all about it," he said, looking at me like the little boy who had gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 

"Those things happen when you're having fun, Dalt," I said, "but we better make it up to Mom tomorrow like Dad said."

"Is she really that mad at us, just because we forgot about it?" he said as he rinsed the plates off and put them on the drain board.

"I don't think she is that mad, Dalt;  but it's like Dad said, women, especially mother's can fly off the handle over just about anything if they think they are being ignored.  She did ask us to call if we weren't going to be home for supper, and here we come waltzing in late after they had eaten." 

"Boy," he said drying his hands, "people are always saying how great it is to be married and all that. I'm glad I'm never going to get married."

"Never say, "never" Dalt.  I've thought about it a couple of times, so you can't really tell what will happen when you get older."  I answered as we went outside.

"You've never said anything about getting married, Carl.  How can a guy be gay and get married, that doesn't make sense?" he asked as we pulled the picnic basket from the trunk of his car.

"Dalton is right," I thought to myself while we dumped the spoiled contents of the basket into the garbage.  Being gay and thinking about marriage did not make sense, but there had been times that I had thought about it even though I knew it would never happen as far as I was concerned.   Having to hide being gay was bad enough  without getting married and pretending to be what you weren't.   I didn't know any gay guys that were married; but I had heard about what was called " bisexual" guys that lived like normal married people, had children, but still went to bed with men.  Explaining to Dalton about being gay was difficult enough without explaining something that I had only heard about.

"Dalton, lets put the basket in the garage, and tomorrow we can take it in the house," I said, putting my arm around his shoulders and hugging him to me. "There are a few things we need to talk about other than being gay, so lets take a walk."

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