MY KID BROTHER

Copyright © 2003

By Lee Mariner

The author's copyright and all provisions of the original disclaimer remain in force.  All Rights are reserved.

This ADULT fantasy depicts homosexual acts. If you are not of legal age in your locality to be reading this story or should you not approve of such material, please leave.

As always, I appreciate the assistance of my friend, Dean, and his invaluable editing skills.

All of my stories can be found in the Nifty Archives listing of Prolific Author's by following this link:

prolific.html#leemariner

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

mariner23502@hotmail.com

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Chapter XXXIII
 
In the navy, being awakened at night for a duty watch was not unusual. Over the years, I had become a light sleeper; and a light touch on my shoulder by a hesitant messenger, who had been sent to wake me,  was enough to elicit an irritated "I'm awake."  Dalton's  removing my arm from his shoulders woke me; and I mumbled, "Where are you going, Squirt?"

"Oh, shit," he whispered, " I was trying to get out of bed without waking you up; I gotta use the bathroom."

"In the middle of the night?" I said, trying to focus my eyes in the dim light from the window.

"It's not the middle of the night, Carl; it's almost six o'clock,"

"It can't be, Dalt; we haven't been asleep that long."

"We were in bed before midnight, Carlie,"  he said as he nimbly bound over me and scampered to the bathroom."

"Maybe we were, but we didn't get to sleep right away,"  I called out as he disappeared through the door.

"That wasn't my fault,"  he answered, with a detectable tone of sudden relief.

"We don't need to go into that,"  I said, smiling as I swung my legs over the side of the bed asking, "Did Lyle and Tim say what time they would be here?"

"I don't remember whether they did or not; but I hope it's not too early,"  he answered,

"Me too," I replied, leaning over, turning on the beside night light and asking, "Are you going to take a shower?"

"I thought I might as well unless you want to go first,"  he answered, over the distinct sound of flushing water.

"That's okay; you go ahead.  I'll take one after you; but  I need to take a leak if you're finished,"  I replied, standing up and stretching before going into the bathroom.

Dalton was standing with his back to me adjusting the shower water.  As I brushed past him, he glanced over his shoulder. his eyes twinkling as he said coquettishly, "You sure you don't want to take a shower, Big Brother?"

"No, you go ahead," I answered, milking the last drops from my softening piss-hard cock.  "I'm going to fix a pot of coffee first, and then I'll shower," I said, turning as he stepped into the  bathtub, under the steaming shower.

Dalton looked at me from under the water grinning and spluttering as he asked, "Sure you don't want to join me?"

"Don't waste the hot water, Squirt," I replied, grinning as I closed the shower curtain.

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The windows of the large living room were steely gray with the first light of dawn; and I hesitated, undecided about turning on the kitchen ceiling light.  Behind me, I could hear Dalton splashing around in the shower; and, for a moment, I was tempted to join him; but, as thoughts of Lyle and Tip walking into the cottage unannounced bothered me, I returned to the bedroom for a pair of briefs and a T-shirt.   Being naked in front of other men had become almost second nature from being in the navy, but not knowing when Lyle and Dalton would arrive made me apprehensive of another surprise.

The outside light had faded; and, glancing out one of the windows while I filled the coffee pot with water and grounds, I could see a fine drizzle falling and the ground fog swirling among the trees and bushes. "The ground is going to be damp," I thought, taking two mugs from the overhead cupboard. 

The pungent aroma of fresh coffee filled my nostrils; and, inhaling deeply, I  filled a mug with the strong black liquid and walked to the front door of the cottage.   Heavy dark clouds were scudding across the sky, and the drizzle had become a steady rain.   Dalton came into the room while I was looking out at the weather.

"Carl, I could smell that coffee all the way in the bathroom,"  he said, vigorously drying his hair.   "Fix me a cup, will you?"

"Do you want milk and sugar?" I asked, moving toward the fridge.

"Just a little milk,"  he answered as he wrapped his towel around his waist and leaned over to look out the window.

 "From the looks of those clouds and the rain, it doesn't look like we'll be going on a picnic today, Squirt,"  I said.

"Has it been raining all night?"  he asked as he moved toward me.

"I don't think so, but all night or not there is no way we are going to some wayside on the other side of the lake," I answered, handing him his mug. "It would surprise the hell out of me if Lyle and Tip were crazy enough to ride their bicycles over here this morning, raining as hard as it is.  How about some breakfast, do you want me to fix something now or after I take my shower?"

Dalton looked at me quizzically for a moment, and then he said, "I'm not really very hungry right now, Carl; you go ahead and take your shower. While you're doing that, I'll put on a pair of briefs and fix us some toast."

§

I set my mug on the counter, but Dalton carried his with him as he followed me into the bedroom.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him extracting a pair of his briefs from our still only half unpacked bags, the towel still around his waist.  As I leaned over to take off my briefs, I felt the damp towel fall around my neck followed by a giggling, "Hang that up for me, will you?"

"Sure, and, while you're at it, how about putting a T-shirt on," I said pulling the towel from around my neck as I straightened up and went into the bathroom.

"How many slices of toast do you want, Carl?"  Dalton hollered as I adjusted the water.

"Just a couple, but don't burn it," I called back as I stepped under the water, smiling at the vision of him wearing only a pair of briefs as he toasted the bread. "Mom would have a fit if she ever saw that," I chuckled, ducking my head under the shower nozzle.

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The shower water was hot, and my muscles slowly relaxed as I massaged my body with the soft soapy sponge.  Standing under the water and enjoying its therapeutic effects, I thought of what Tip had told Dalton about him and Lyle.   Lyle had asked me much the same question that Tip had asked about Dalton and me having sex with each other, and it surprised me that they had not done more than jerk each other off.  Most brothers who were near the same age jerked off together at some time or the other while they were growing up if for no other reason than curiosity.  Some would even jerk each other off, but for two brothers with gay tendencies not to experiment further than that seemed unusual.  I didn't have the advantage of Dalton's being about my age; and, until I met Jerry, I had not realized that I was gay and had not known what I really wanted.  He taught me what two gay men could do together.  When Dalton revealed how he felt, it reminded me a lot of how I had felt before Jerry had first made love to me;  and I wanted him to know what I had learned.  "God," I mused to myself. "Both of them must be really frustrated, loving each other and not knowing the true reason about why they feel that way."  Tip had admitted to Dalton that they had no one they could talk with, and their father's beating Lyle didn't help instill any confidence that he would listen or even try to understand their feelings.   "Damn people that don't listen and try to learn how their children feel," I growled as I turned off the water and got out of the tub just as Dalton called to me. 

"Hey, Carl, are you gonna stay in there all day?"

"Give me a minute to dry off, and I'll be right out."

§

The rain seemed to have increased in intensity, and where it had been a silent rain earlier there was a cacophony of muted lightening and thunder intermingled with the thrashing of the tree boughs as the wind increased.  Dalton was sitting at the table munching on a slice of buttered toast with several more slices on a plate when I walked in.  

"Damn, Dalt, it looks like this storm is really setting in."  I said, walking past him to the counter for another mug of coffee.

"Yeah, it sure does; and I'm glad you told me to put on a T-shirt; it was starting to get cool," he mumbled with his mouth full.

"Maybe I should check the circuit breakers for the heaters," I said, setting my mug on the table.

"I have done that already, Carl.  They were all turned off, but I flipped all four of the switches,"  he replied, as he took a swig of his coffee.

"And?" I asked.

"I checked all of the thermostats if that's what you mean, and they're working,"  he answered, giving me a hurt look.

"Just checking, Dalt, just checking," I exclaimed quietly, holding my hands up defensively and grinning as I sat down.

We sat quietly for a few minutes, munching on toast and listening to the storm.  When the plate was empty, Dalton leaned back in his chair and, pulling his too small T-shirt down, patted his stomach and said, "Coffee is okay but, I think I'll have a glass of milk,  Do you want one?"

"No thanks," I answered. "But the next time we go shopping, we had better get you some shirts that fit."

"Yeah, I know.  Every time that I buy them, I forget they are made of cotton.  I should get them a size or two larger so they'll fit better after Mom washes them," he said as he unsuccessfully tried to stretch his shirt over his hard flat stomach.

"Why don't you put one of mine on, Dalt; it'll fit better than what you've got on,"  I said as I got up from the table for a re-fill.

"Yours might be a little big," he replied, sliding his chair back and getting up to go to the bedroom.

"Not from what I see, Squirt, you're bigger than you think," I said.

"Bigger where?" he answered, impishly, a soft twinkle in his puppy dog brown eyes.

"All over," I said, grinning at his impudence.

"It's your fault," he said cheerfully, as he disappeared through the bedroom doorway.

"Not entirely," I said to myself.

§

Filling my mug, I unplugged the coffee pot and went to the front door.  It was still raining pretty hard, but the storm seemed to have abated a little, and the thunder was only a distant rumble.  Rain water had formed two small rushing torrents on either side of the gravel driveway, and the heavy rain had beaten the azalea and rhododendron bushes almost to the ground.   "It's amazing how things work out," I thought, taking a sip of luke warm coffee, and thinking about Lyle and Tip when I felt Dalton's strong arms slide around my chest.

"Whatcha thinking about?" he asked innocently, pressing his hard body against me and nuzzling the back of my neck.

"Not much really, but I thought you were going to put on one of my T-shirts," I answered, moving out of his arms and turning toward him, standing behind me bare chested.

"I was at first," he answered sheepishly, "But, instead of putting on a T-shirt, I thought it would be warmer if I wrapped up in one of the blankets that Mom put in with the stuff she packed for us; and, we could sit on the couch instead of at the table."

"Good idea, it would be more comfortable than those hard chairs," I said, moving toward the kitchen counter and emptying my mug in the sink.

Dalton sat on the couch, struggling to wrap the blanket around him while I put my mug on the counter. When I turned to join him on the couch, he looked up at me watching him grinned.  "I guess I should have wrapped it around me before I sat down,"  he said sheepishly.

"From the way you're struggling, it looks like you should have," I said, agreeing with him. "Here, stand up and let me do it."

Dalton looked at me with a soft warm look in his eyes as I shook the blanket out and draped it over his shoulders. "Sit down and pull it around you," I said, sitting at the end of the couch. 

"Carlie," he said as he curled up on the couch and laid his head in my lap.  "Do you really like Tip and Lyle?"

 "They both seem to be pretty nice guys, but we really don't know much about them other than what Tip told you yesterday," I answered, noticing he had mentioned Tip's name first.  "It doesn't sound as though they have a very good home life if what Tip said about their father's beating Lyle is true, but I can't see any reason he would have made up such a story.  Lyle didn't say anything like that, but I got the impression he was lonely and frustrated from some of the things he said."

"You mean when you and him were in bed?"

"Now you're prying, Squirt," I said, smiling and ruffling his hair affectionately.

"No, I'm not, not really," he exclaimed, twisting his head around and looking up at me. "I've told you things about Tip and me."

"Unh huh, sure you did," I said in a mocking tone.

"Well...," he said a little peevishly. "He did get me all excited on the float when we were talking about sex and about you and me." 

"And up in the loft?" I asked.

"Up in the loft..., oh, jeepers, Carlie, Tip was all over me. It was like he had never had sex with another boy.  It wasn't like the first time we had sex, he wanted to do everything all at once.  He was so excited, Carlie, that he shot his load just rubbing against me,"  he said softly.

"That was pretty much like you that first time, Dalt,"  I said quietly, my cock starting to swell from thinking about him and Tip.

"I guess so," he answered, laying his hand on my thigh and squeezing gently.  "But Tip didn't know how to do anything; and, when he started sucking my cock, his teeth hurt; but, as it felt kind of good, I didn't say anything until after he finished sucking me off.  I'm pretty sure he had never sucked anyone off before then."

"He probably hadn't, Dalt,"  I said, breathing in deeply as he moved his hand between my thighs, his fingers gently touching my balls.

"Was that the way it was with you and Lyle, Carlie?"  he asked, turning his head and blowing his warm breath on my swollen cock.

"Almost the same," I moaned, breathing heavier and spreading my legs, fires burning deep in my loins as he kissed and squeezed my throbbing cock with his lips, his fingers kneading my churning balls.

A euphoric fog of lust and love swept over me; and, closing my eyes, I dropped my head on the back of the couch, breathing heavily from the excitement of Dalton's hot mouth moving over my cock's cloth covered length.  His fingers slipped under the waist band of my briefs, pulling them down; and I gasped at the feeling of his mouth slowly sliding down over my pre-cum oozing cock and  whispered, "Suck it, Dalt."

The storm outside was forgotten; Lyle and Tip were forgotten as Dalton brought me to the brink and stopped.  Breathing heavily, he laid his head on my stomach, his lips touching the blood engorged head of my cock, and whispered, "Not like this Carlie, I want all of it down my throat, and I want to feel you sucking me." 

Sitting up as he moved away, I didn't ask what he wanted to do; I just watched as he stood up and threw the blanket to the floor.  Leaning over me, he pulled my briefs down over my legs; and I took my T-shirt off.  He stood over me, his eyes flashing as he gazed at my nakedness; and he slowly pushed his briefs down revealing thick silky pubic hair surrounding the thick base of his cock. With the elastic waistband depressing his cock he slowly, inch by inch, teasingly revealed the beauty I already knew was there. Spreading my legs slightly, I took my cock in my hand and squeezed as the excitement built between us.  I could hear him breathing heavily; and, looking up, I saw the lust flashing in his eyes as he watched me squeezing and stroking my throbbing cock.  Moving closer, he pushed his briefs down; letting them fall to the floor, his cock bouncing inches from my lips, pearls of pre-cum dripping from its blood engorged head.

Leaning forward, I licked the precious drops from the crown of his throbbing cock; and he gasped, "Not that way, Carlie, turn around and stretch out on the couch."

Swinging my legs around, I stretched out, my muscles tightening with excitement as he sat on the edge of the couch facing me.  "You're beautiful, Carlie; God, how I love looking at you," he whispered softly, running his hands over my chest and stomach and tangling his fingers in the thick hair at the base of my cock.

 Running my hands over the velvety softness of his chest and over his ribs to the soft roundness of his buttocks, I said softly, "You are too, Kid."

"Kid," he said, grinning as he twisted around and stretched out beside me,

His mouth felt like a hot furnace engulfing my aching cock, and I felt the passion boiling inside of me as I swallowed his pre-cum drooling cock. We raced to the heights of physical passion, exploding together as we fell over the precipice into the abyss of lust and love, drawing and drinking the bitter-sweet nectar that flowed from the depths of our loins.  It was the aphrodisiac of love that we craved and needed and which cemented the bond between us.

"Jesus, I love you so much," I said to myself feeling him relaxing as waves of contentment washed over us.

§

"That was awesome, Dalt,"  I said weakly as he swung around and stretched out beside me, laying his head on my bicep.

Putting his arm over me and pressing his still half hard cock against mine, he giggled and said, "you want to do it again?"

"You've got to be kidding, again, now?"  I exclaimed, leaning my head back and looking at him.

"Kids can do that," he said, kissing my chest and chiding me for calling him a kid.

"You devil, you," I laughed.  "Getting back at me for calling you and kid, and calling me an old man are you?"

"I don't think old men make love like you do, Carlie," he said softly, lifting his lips to mine.

The kiss was long and sensuous.  I could feel the love draining from him into me as our tongues gently mingled, the remnants of our love making mixing in a bitter-sweet elixir.

Swallowing, our lips parted and I said, "Kids don't make love like you do either, Little Brother."

"Oh, Carlie, Carlie, I love you so much," he squealed, burying his face against my chest and hugging me tightly.

"Okay, okay, I love you too; but you don't have to break my ribs," I chided, reaching over him to get the blanket from where he had dropped it.

"I'm sorry," he said sheepishly, snuggling closer as I pulled the blanket over us.

"You forget that you're not  ten years old," I said softly, running my hands over his rock-hard arm muscles.

§

I don't know how long we slept, but a loud banging on the door woke me.  Dalton was still snuggled close; and he only mumbled, snuggling closer  At first I thought it was the wind; but then another, more insistant, banging brought me up on my elbow.  I glanced at the window; it was still raining.  Another bang, and I looked at the back door.  Lyle and Tip were staring through the glass.

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