My Kid Brother
By Lee Mariner
The author's copyright, dated June
2003, and all provisions of the original disclaimer remains in
force. All Rights are Reserved.
This story depicts homosexual acts and it is intended for ADULT READERS
ONLY. If you are not of legal age in your locality or should you
not approve of such material, please leave.
As always, I appreciate the assistance of my friend, Dean and his
All of my stories can be found in the Nifty Archives listing of
Prolific Author's using this link:
Any reader wishing to be notified of future episodes to this or other
stories, please contact me at:
It was surprising to hear the familiar strains of Glenn Miller's
Brown Jug" drifting from inside the pavilion as we walked
around to the entrance. The music didn't have the
quality and depth of tone of Glenn Miller's orchestra; but the five
musicians, elevated on a plain unadorned band stand abutting the
floor at the far end of the pavilion, were doing a credible job with
their rendition of his famous piece.
There were several middle aged couples dancing in the area closer to
the small band,
and I was surprised to see several pairs of younger people at
the opposite end of the large dance floor engaged in doing what they
considered to be more
modern dance steps that didn't involve close contact. My
expertise in dancing did not extend much beyond the waltz or
and, from what I could see, the younger dancers' knowledge probably
The girls and Dalton had stopped just inside the doorway, and I edged
closer to him and, nodding in the direction of the younger kids,
whispered, "Have you ever tried doing what they are doing?"
"Me?" he answered in surprise; a decible or two louder than the
music. " You've got to be kidding. Mom tried to teach me once,
but she gave up. She said that I had two left feet."
"I can teach you, Dalton," Tracey said, leaning over and looking at us.
Dalton was flustered for a moment before he replied, "Thanks, Tracy,
but I'll just watch for now, maybe later."
Tracey looked at me; and, before she could say anything, I threw my
hands up in the air in a mock defensive position, protesting, "Oh, no,
not me. I'm not about to make a fool of myself trying to do what
those kids are doing. Any dancing I do will be with the older
"We can do that too," Carla chimed in with an impish, almost evil grin,
her eyes twinkling.
"Maybe later, Carla," I said, wishing I could bite my tongue off for
directing my answer to her. In an attempt to avoid the direction
the conversation seemed to be heading, I continued before she could
reply and get me in any deeper. "Right now, how about something
cold to drink? Do they serve beer?"
"They only serve soft drinks, Carlton," Tracey answered. "There
are too many
minors for anything else except maybe coffee. The canteen is over
"I'd like a Pepsi," Dalton chimed in as we followed the girls.
The canteen was off to the left and
behind the bandstand. As we approached it, I could see two
elderly, but not old, ladies behind the counter and a young boy, maybe
ten or twelve years old, re-filling potato chip racks.
While one lady was giving instructions to the young boy, the other
moved closer to the rough plank counter asking, "May I help you young
"Yes, Ma'am." Tracey said. "We would like two Barqe's Root Beers,
one Pepsi and, oh, wait a minute. What do you want, Carl?"
"Make that two Pepsis, Ma'am," Tracey said, correcting the
The canteen was not fancy and had a menu limited to cold drinks, candy
bars and a variety of chips. The counters were made of unpainted
twelve inch wide wooden planks, and the drinks were kept cold in large
coolers. A double tube florescent light running the width of the
small room provided the lighting. On the back wall over a small
hand sink, there was a large sign that read, "Lake Gaston Methodist
Church Ladies Auxiliary."
"Tracey," I said, leaning toward her. "Have they ever thought about
adding hot dogs and hamburgers to their menu?"
"The've thought about it," she said, turning around and handing me my
drink. "The kids would like it, but the village council voted it
down as being too expensive. Right now, the village donates the
space to the church; but, if they had to upgrade the electricity and
install a sprinkler system, they would want rent."
"That's understandable, Tracey, since they probably would have had to
increase their fire insurance coverage as well after electric or gas
grills and refrigeraton was installed," I said, taking a sip from my
bottle as we walked to
a narrow counter that had been built between three of the rough log
"Yeah, Daddy handles that for the village. He said they would have to
increase the liability and fire insurance coverage by at least a half a
million to be safe," She answered before
slipping her straw between her lips.
"Isn't the village self insured?" I asked as we reached the counter.
"Yes; but, from what Daddy told me, they would have to either
increase the surety bond that's posted with the state insurance
commision or insure with a private company. To do that taxes
would have to be increased, so the council decided to leave things the
way they are," Tracey said, turning to set her drink on the counter.
"Politics and politicians," I thought, cynically wondering if there
more to it than not wanting to increase taxes.
Carla and Dalton joined us, and we watched the dancers
and others who
were mingling around the outer perimeter of the pavilion dance
were maybe six young couples dancing while groups of girls and boys
stood together talking and laughing. Both groups looked like
tanned and healthy teenagers on vacation. There were a few better
than average looking boys who didn't look like teenagers; and, from
stature,I guessed that they probably were lifeguards. The cat and
that all of them were playing was amusing. Every now and then a
boy would cut in on one of the couples, and his rival would give him a
dirty look before reluctantly relinquishing his young lady.
I was watching one particularly good looking young man when the band
started playing Hogey Carmichael's "Stardust." Dalton
closer asked," Are you going ot ask one of the girls for a
"Yeah, Carl, when are you?" Tracey said, reaching for my hand. "This is
I gave Dalton a dirty look and said, "You might regret it, Tracey, or
will. It's been a long time since I've danced."
"I'll take that chance," she said smiling and pulling me onto the dance
After a few tentative movements and racking my brain to remember the
steps while Tracey led, I started feeling comfortable enough to assume
the role as leader. She reversed her position and followed
smoothly. The fine sand that had been carried in from the lake's
beach rasped under the soles of our shoes, adding a soft hissing
accompaniment to the music. "See, " she said as we moved easily
around the floor, "It's like riding a bicycle. Once you learn,
you never forget."
"That depends on how long you rode the bicycle," I answered.
"You must have ridden it long enough, Carl. You're really doing
quite well," she replied.
"It took a few minutes of trying to remember the dance steps I had
in a YMCA where I was stationed with the navy." I replied.
"Daddy told me you were in the navy; are you on a vacation or something
" 'Something like that' covers it Tracey. Actually it's called
on leave while enroute to another duty station."
"Where's that?" she asked, leaning her head back and looking at me
"My new assignment is in Panama, but I have to report to the Brooklyn
Naval Station for transportation. I'll be down there for two
"Two years!!" She said hesitating a moment before continuing to
dance. "You are going to be living on that little strip of land
in Central America where the canal is? That sounds awful."
"It may be, Tracey. A friend told me it gets awfully hot, humid
and rainy," I responded, Joe Woodard's handsome face flashing
through my mind.
"I bet you won't like it," she said as we twirled to a stop and
applauded the musicians.
"What's Dalton going to do with you gone for the next two years or
whatever? You and he look to be pretty close to each
other." She continued as we walked toward where Carla and Dalton
"He'll finish high school, I hope, and then maybe join the marine
I answered, concerned over her mentioning our closeness to each
other,and wondering whether how we felt about each other was that
"Or the navy," she said, grinning and giving me a quick look and a wink
skipping away and re-joining, Carla.
"Hey, Bro. You guys looked great out there," Dalton said
exuberantly. "Almost as good as...as," he stammered trying to
think when Carla said, "Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers."
"Yeah, yeah, that's whom I was trying to think of," Dalton replied,
beaming at Carla and Tracey.
"We weren't quite that good, Dalton. But, Carl is a better dancer then
he lets on. He could probably teach you a few steps," Tracey said,
looking at me, her eyes twinkling as she said it.
The last few comments that, Tracey had made, inadvertently or not, had
me perplexed and a little concerned that there was a hidden meaning or
for some unknown reason, she was probing. I couldn't think of
anything we had said or done that would lead her to conclude that there
was more than just a brotherly relationship between us. The
concern must have shown; and, when I heard Dalton ask quietly, "Are
okay, Carl?" it startled me.
"Yes, sure, I'm okay. I was just thinking, that's all," I
answered. "How about another drink, mine has gotten warm?"
"Not for us," Carla said. "We girls need to visit the little
girl's room. You go ahead though, if you want."
"Me too," Dalton said looking at me; but I shook my head negatively
even though I needed to relieve myself.
I was still puzzling over what I thought were hints made by Tracey
when Dalton returned.
"The girls aren't back yet?" he asked, looking back over his shoulder
in the directon that Carla and Tracey had gone.
"Not yet, Dalt. You know how girls are; they take forever in a
bathroom. Especially if there are mirrors."
"Yeah, I guess so. Do you still want another drink?" he asked.
"Yes, but ease up on the potato chips, will you?" I said as I took a
five-dollar bill out of my wallet. "You keep stuffing yourself
with calories, and you'll be fat where you don't want to be."
His eyes twinkled as he took the money and said, 'You'll help me stay
trim, won't you?"
"Go!!" I said smiling as he left, laughing.
Leaning against the railing, I felt a tingling in my groin as I admired
the smooth athletic way he strode unhurriedly to the canteen. His
back muscles rippled under the tight knit cloth of his shirt, and the
low rise jeans he was wearing clung to his hips accenting the
tantalizing rising and falling of his beautifully rounded ass
cheeks. "Yeah," I thought. "Tracey might suspect that
he means more to me than just being my kid brother; but, if she does,
know how much."
I closed my eyes trying to think of other things to suppress the
hardon in my crotch when, I heard a familiar voice behind me.
"Hey, Dude, you looked pretty cool out there dancing with Tracey," Lyle
said as he joined me on the railing.
"Yeah, you sure did. She's one hot chick," his brother Tip chimed
in as he leaned against the upright roof support.
"Thanks for the compliment, but I'm afraid it was more she than I. I
don't really dance very well," I said, glancing in their direction
trying, without being obvious, to make a cursory inspection of them in
their different dress from what they had been wearing earlier.
"I don't know, Carl, you seemed to be doing pretty good; all snuggled
up to her like you were," Lyle said suggestively.
They both had changed into bleached blue jeans and white sleeveless
muscle shirts that were tucked into their waist bands. Dressed in
baggy clothes their physiques weren't as discernible, only giving a
suggestive hint as to what lay hidden. Both of them were well
developed with Lyle's being a little heavier than Tip. Lyle's
shoulders were a little wider than Tip's, and they
both had defined pectoral chest muscles and flat stomachs. Their shirts
tucked in tight enough to stretch the cotton cloth; revealing the
imprint of their nipples. Their sleeveless shirts were
meant to show off their well developed biceps and forearms. More
than likely, their physical development was a result of high school
athletics and hard work. There were faded areas to the
left of their flies showing the impressive bulge of their cocks.
seemed to be a little larger than his brother's, but not by very much,
I felt the tingling sensation in my groin in anticipation of what was
obviously being displayed even though hidden.
"Snuggling as you call it, Lyle, is the way two people do a slow
dance. It is infinitely better than what the kids are doing if
you call what they are doing dancing," I said looking into his
eyes, noticing the golden sparks glinting in their hazel depths.
"I guess it depends on what you like, Carl," he said almost
impudently, letting his hand brush suggestively over the bulge in his
"Perhaps it is," I replied, smiling and turning to look in Dalton's
direction as he spoke to Tip who was standing beside him.
"Hey, Bo, why don't you catch up with Dalton and get us a couple of
drinks?" Lyle said, stretching his legs out and shoving his hand into
pocket pulling out a couple of dollar bills.
"Sure," Tip answered, taking the money and almost running toward where
Dalton was waiting in line behind several other youngsters.
Lye didn't pull his legs up; and, out of the corner of my eye, I
noticed he had left one hand cupped over the bulge in his crotch and
supported himself with his other hand on the railing. Still
trying not to be obvious even though my "gaydar" had kicked in as I was
to discern whether Lye was playing a game or being subtly antagonistic,
in Tip's direction.
"Does Tip always do what you tell him, Lyle?" I asked matter-of-factly
without looking at him.
"He usually does," he answered as he pulled his legs up, and turning
toward me, hitched his hips up on the railing before completing what he
was saying. "Sometimes he gets mad at me; but all kid brother
do; don't they, get mad at their older brother when they think you're
trying to boss them around? Doesn't, Dalton get mad at you?" He
finished as he clasped both hands in his crotch.
"No, he doesn't, Lye. I've never, as you say, bossed him
around," I said, turning to look at his face before saying slowly, "We
have a better relationship than that."
"There," I thought to myself, watching for his reaction. "let's see if
he picks up on that."
"I bet you do," he answered, looking unflinchingly into my eyes before
turning to rearrange his position on the railing as Dalton and Tip
approached with Dalton saying, "What are you two talking about so
"Nothing important, we were wondering what is keeping Carla and Tracy,
that's all," I answered conversationally, noticing Lyle drop his head
grinning as I said it.
Tip handed Lyle his drink and Dalton said, "I guess it's like you said,
Carl. Girls, bathrooms and mirrors. You don't think they
might have left without telling us, do you?"
"Not likely, here they come now," Tip said, turning and looking at
Carla and Tracey walking across the floor toward us.
"They don't look any different from how they did when they left,"
observed, bending close and whispering in my ear.
"Most girls don't, Dalt," I said quietly, pushing myself up from the
railing and partially facing him. "Usually going to the girl's
room is a smokescreen to figure out how to dump someone they don't want
or make plans for someone they do."
"Which do you think it is?" he asked anxiously.
"We don't know them well enough to know that; but, I'm not concerned
with it," I said as I turned toward the girls smiling and saying,
"We were thinking that we were going to have to send a St. Bernard in
case you needed help."
The both laughed; and then Carla looked at me, glancing at Lyle as she
answered, "A cask of rum might have been okay, Carl, but I don't care
for dogs," she almost purred and continuing said, "Hello, Lyle.
no see, where did you come from?"
"Home," He answered bluntly. "We came up just as you and Tracey
were going to the rest room," he said, coolly.
I heard a hidden note of dislike when she spoke to Lyle, and an almost
opaque veil seemed to drop over her beautiful almond eyes as Lyle
spoke. Listening, I
glanced from her to him, and I saw a look of
dislike in his eyes. My head was spinning trying to put two and
two together when Tracey moved closer saying cheerfully, "We saw
Lyle and Tip coming down the pathway as we went to the bathroom, Carla,
"That's right, we did. Sorry, I forgot," She answered not taking
her eyes off of Lyle, her tone
flat and not melodious as it had been earlier.
Her eyes, still veiled, hid anything she might have been
thinking. From the blunt coolness of Lyle's answer and Carla's
tone of voice, I could feel the animosity between them.
Tracey's attempt at cheerfulness was sounding less spontaneous the
more I thought about the sudden turn of events.
"Tracey," Dalton said, breaking the silence that had
developed in the group, "Do you and Carla want fresh
drinks? Yours must be
hot by now."
"Yeah, we can go get them," Tip said jumping up from where he had been
sitting next to, Lyle. "Mine is almost empty, and I surely could
use another one."
Tracey started to speak, but she looked at Carla before she did.
Carla didn't say anything, and Tracey turned her head, looking at
Tip. "Thanks, Tip. I appreciate the offer, but we are going
to run over to Perryville and catch the late
movie. Daddy said Carlton and Dalton were going to be here,so we
just stopped by to see if we could talk them into a dance. I only
managed to get Carl on the floor," she said, laughing nervously.
"You, and Carla should like it, Tracey," Lyle said, almost in a
monotone. "The Amazons of The Congo" is
playing," he said grinning, his eyes gleaming malevolently.
"Lyle Coleman, you are hateful. We didn't need you telling us that; we
know what the movie is," she answered angrily.
"Hey," he replied, shrugging his shoulders, his eyes shining
evily. "I was only trying to be helpful."
"We can do without your help," she replied. "Come on, Carla, lets
Tracey said, flashing him a hurt look as they turned away and left.
I couldn't help but feel a little compassion for Tracey and Carla
even though we didn't know them very well. I was still confused
at the obvious dislike between Carla and Lyle; but, the reason escaped
me until he made his comments about the movie and what was playing.
The word "lesbians" crept reluctantly into my thoughts, and Lyle
confirmed what he thought of them as he spat the word out.
"Fucking lesbians, they deserve each other."
"Lyle...," Tip said shakily, looking around anxiously to be sure no one
was close enough to hear. "You don't know that for sure, you
only suspect it."
"Suspect, shit!" he answered vehemently. "What do you call that
bitch leading me on, getting me all hot and horny out behind the boat
storage shed and then walking away and leaving me with the worst blue
balls I've ever had. Huh, what the fuck do you call that?
Normal girls don't come onto to a guy, get him all worked up thinking
he's going to score and then drop him. Lesbians do that; they like
playing with a guy; it makes them feel superior."
"I don't know anything about that except what you told me, Lyle; but
Tracey is always nice to us." Tip answered timidly, glancing at
Dalt and me.
"She is whenever her girlfriend is not around, but when they are
together they ignore everyone else. Hell, Carl," he said,
stopping to catch his breath before turning to me. "Tonight's the first
time I've seen Tracey dancing with a boy when she and Carla are
together. She always dances with that bitch, Carla; and, it
really surprised the hell out of me when I saw you on the floor with
"You and Tip know more about it than Dalt and I do, Lyle. We
haven't known Tracey long, and we just met Carla tonight, so we
can't say one way or the other." I said cautiously, hoping Lyle's anger
"You stick around long enough, Carl; and you might find out,"
said flatly. "I'm not sure that Tracey would do it; but you can
bet if Carla thinks she can get to you and Dalton's not around you're
in for trouble. Christ, she might even try Dalton; he's a hot
Blushing, Dalton glanced at me and said, snickering, "I don't
I need to worry about that, Lyle."
"Neither one of us do," I said in support of Dalton.
""She's never tried anything with me," Tip said, joining in.
"Christ, Tip. You're just a kid," Lyle snorted laughing.
A kid, my ass," Tip exclaimed indignantly, grabbing his crotch and
glaring at his
brother. "I can get a boner almost as big as yours and shoot
just as heavy a load."
Dalton looked at me with a surprised, wide eyed look on his face.
I reached over and touching Tip's arm as I looked around, said quietly,
"Easy, Tip. not so loud or you'll have every girl in the pavilion over
"Yeah, and maybe a couple of boys as well; right little brother,"
Lyle said, grinning at me with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Lyle...," Tip exclaimed, blushing.
"Yeah, yeah, I know; but, what the hell,
having a big dong is nothing to be ashamed of," Lyle said, smiling and
tip of his tongue over his lips as he glanced at Dalton and me.
I had my suspicions about Lyle from the way he had looked back at
Dalton and me when they had left us earlier in the evening. But, from
the girls after they had joined us and from what was said since, I
couldn't really tell whether Lyle was still playing a game or whether
Lyle and Tip or whether Lyle and the girls were. For a moment the
thought crossed my mind that Lyle had deliberately
provoked Carla and then Tracey, and that was the game
he was playing. Get rid of the girls; and then
make it obvious as to what they really wanted, me and Dalton.
Looking at Dalton, I could see that he was
listening intently; and I was thankful he hadn't said anything that
been sexual revealing.
Running my fingers through my hair and breathing in deeply, I commented
on Lyle's statement. "You may be right about some people, Lyle;
but, it's really not something you want to make a public announcement
about. At least, I don't think it should be."
"A picture is as good as a thousand words, Carl; that's why they make
tight jeans." He said, stretching and delibertly running his hands over
and down into his crotch.
"Hey, guys," Dalton said from behind me. "How about another
drink? Tip and I will go."
Taking advantage of the sudden change in the direction the conversation
was heading, I stood up saying, "Maybe Lyle and Tip want one, Dalt;
but we had better be going. We've got groceries in the trunk, and we'd
better get them to the cottage before some of them spoil."
Lyle started to open his mouth to say something; but Dalton, catching
my hint, cut him off saying, "Oh, yeah. I'd forgotten about that."
Moving closer to Dalton, I glanced at Lyle still sitting on the
railing. He had removed his hands, showing the outline of an
impressive elongated bulge stretching down the inside of his left
thigh; but, he wasn't grinning or smiling. For the moment, he had
a stupefied look on his face; but then he recovered and said, "If
leaving, how about a lift to our house? We live just up the road
from the Anderson cottage."
"But... we rode our bikes, Ly....," Tip started to say, but an angry
look from Lyle stopped him.
"We can get those later," he said,continuing in an attempt at
explaining Tip's unfinished comment.
"There's no need to pump up that hill if you guys will take us
When we reached the car, Dalton got
behind the wheel; and I pulled the seat back forward so our impromptu
passengers could get in the back. Lyle sat quietly as we rode,
but Dalton and Tip kept up a continuous flow of questions and answers
between them. The upshot was a swimming "date" the following
day. Lyle's brief sullen response when asked if he wanted
to join them, was "Can't, I got work to do." I was just as glad
that they had not included me. Tracey had been on my mind, and I
was thinking about seeing her and apologizing even though Dalton and I
had not been involved in the nastiness that Lyle had provoked.
Their house was about a quarter of a mile up the road past the Anderson
cottage. When I got out of the car and pulled the seat
back, Tip leaned over tapping Dalton's shoulder and said "Thanks for
the lift, I'll see
you tomorrow morning." Lyle got out without saying anything, and
looked at his brother and then at me, shrugging his shoulders before
following him in the direction of a house not much different from the
one we were renting.
"Carlie," Dalton said as he pulled out onto the road. "I'm sorry
about asking Tip to go swimming without asking you."
"That's okay, Dalt," I answered, turning my head to look at him.
"Tip's your age, and the two of you should have fun. Just
been telling you about using you head, and being careful."
He didn't say anything for the few minutes it took before we were
pulling into our driveway. When we were on the porch and I was
fumbling in my pocket for the door key, he took my arm and gently spun
me around. Sliding his arms around my waist and pressing his hard
body to mine, our lips met in a long lingering kiss, tongues playing
gently in familiar surroundings. I don't know whether it was the
events of the evening or not, but in any event my cock hardened
instantly, and I felt his
hardon pressing into my pelvis.
"Jesus, Dalt," I said, gasping for breath. "What was that for?"
"To let you know how much I love you," he answered softly, rotating his
hips and rolling his hard
cock over mine, our bodies pressed tightly together, almost as one.
Moving my hips in sync with his, I placed my hands on either side of
his head and looked deep into his gleaming dark brown eyes. I
felt the special passion between us building; and, brushing his lips
lightly with mine, I whispered, "Why don't you show me inside instead
out here on the porch?"
"It might be more fun outside," he replied, pressing his granite hard
"Making love with you is never just fun, Little Brother, it's
I whispered trying to get the door key out of my pocket.