My Kid Brother
Copyright © 2003
By Lee Mariner


This ADULT fantasy depicts homosexual acts and erotic situations.  Should you find such material offensive or if you are not of legal age in your locality to be reading this material, please leave.

The author holds exclusive copyright to this story.  It is assigned to the Nifty Archives under the provisions of their submission guidelines for posting.  It may not be copied, reproduced or archived on any other web site or by any individual without the specific written permission of the author.

All stories that I have posted on Nifty can be found under my name, Lee Mariner, in the Nifty Archives listing of Prolific Authors.

As always, I am deeply grateful to my friend, Dean, for his invaluable assistance in editing and proofing.

Comments and suggestions are appreciated.  Readers wishing to be notified by e-mail of future additions to this story or other  stories are invited to contact me at mariner23502@hotmail.com
Please support the Nifty Archives.

Lee Mariner


Chapter XXXIX


Dalton dozed off and on with his head on my shoulder, his hand resting lightly on my thigh.  Stirring  occasionally to reposition himself, he would murmur softly without waking.  "The sleep of the innocent," I mused to myself, remembering the times that I had tucked him into his bed when he was much younger.  

The tires hummed softly on the ribbon of asphalt, and rows of corn heavily laden with silken tassels stood like military sentinels on each side of the roadway as we sped by.   A soft breeze blew from the west rustling the broad dark green leaves of the countless stalks; and the golden sun with hints of crimson hung just above the horizon in a cloudless, azure blue sky.  "A typical Indiana afternoon," I thought to myself as we sped along the highway toward Richmond.

The green curtain slowly thinned as we approached the city limits giving way to rows of homes built where farms had once been.  Richmond was a growing, busy city; but fortunately we would avoid the city since Dad had had the foresight after World War II  to purchase several acres of wooded land from one of the farmers and build our house outside of the city limits.

When Dad built the house outside of Richmond, we were still considered to be living in the country.  Times had changed after the war, and more and more acreage was developed as families moved outside of the hectic city environment.  Gravel roads were paved with asphalt, and utilities were installed as houses were built.  Where fields of corn, soybean and wheat had once grown, building  lots had been laid out and homes built with only minimal  thought given to landscaping or the planting of trees.  Our home sat back from the roadway among the trees fronted by a lush green lawn divided by a gravel-covered drive. 

The western breeze had freshened, rustling the leaves of the trees; and, as I pulled onto the driveway, the crunching of the tires on gravel wakened Dalton.  Stretching his arms in front of him as he sat up, he said, "Damn, Carl, you shouldn't have let me sleep so long."

 "Why not?   You probably needed it after last night," I said grinning at him as I continued teasingly.   "I like looking at you when you sleep; you look so damned innocent, but I know better."

"You think you do," he replied impishly as he slid back across the seat looking through the windshield and exclaiming, "Hey, what time is it? Dad's car is parked beside the house so it must be after five o'clock."

"Yep, it is," I said, glancing at my wristwatch.  "It's almost five-thirty, and I hope Mom and Dad haven't eaten supper yet; I am famished."

"Me too," he replied, arching his back and then pressing his hands down into his groin and groaning, "I've gotta piss real bad."

"You shouldn't have drunk that soda at Jake's before we left," I chuckled, noticing dad coming out onto the side porch as I drove around the house.

Grabbing the door handle as I pulled to a stop, Dalton said quickly as he got out, "You drank coffee."

He gave me a look of anguish as he bolted out of the door and rushed past dad who had descended the steps and was walking toward us.

Stopping in mid-stride and looking at Dalton as he rushed past him, he turned and said "What is Dalton's problem, did you two have a fight?"

"No, Sir, no fight," I said chuckling at his inaccurate observation and closing the car door that Dalton had left open. "He had coffee and juice at breakfast, and he drank a soda before we left.  Little Brother has a serious bladder problem that couldn't wait."

"Well, I hope he makes it," Dad said laughing softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he pulled the lobe of his ear, and continued.  "Did you guys have a good week, Son?" he asked, extending his hand as he approached.  "We didn't expect you to be home until tomorrow or Sunday."

"We had a great time, Dad," I replied, shaking his hand warmly as I spoke. "But since I'm leaving on Monday, we thought we should come back early and spend some time with you and Mom."

"Your Mother will like that," he said, clapping his free hand over mine and squeezing gently.

"Yes, Sir," I said, looking into his eyes and responding to the pressure as we shook hands.

Dad had never been an overly emotional man, but I knew that inwardly his feelings were much the same as Mother's were even though he did not espouse them as emotionally as she did.

With the exception of the box of linens that mother had sent with us, we had put our bags into the Pony's small trunk.  When I opened the trunk, Dad stepped forward and said,  "Let me take those, and you can get that box out of the back seat."

I started to object; but before I could,  he grabbed the bags and lifted them effortlessly from the trunk and set them on the ground before closing the lid. 

"You really don't have to do that, Dad," I protested anyway, admiring the bulge of his biceps as he lifted the bags.

"Why not?" he replied glancing at me and grinning. "Don't you think your old man can handle a couple of suitcases?"

"No, I wasn't thinking that; but Dalton could have gotten them," I answered, flushing slightly and remembering he was by no means a weakling.  Years of hard labor were obvious, and it didn't take close observation to see the results of military discipline from his army days and hard work.

"Ha...," he said good-naturedly. "He is probably still taking a leak, or your mother has corralled him.  Come on, grab the box out of the back seat; and let's get inside to supper before your mother has my hide," he chuckled. "I don't know how she does it, but I swear she knew you boys were going to be home today, and she has fixed enough for six people."

"She has her ways, Dad," I said grunting slightly as I removed the box from the car.

"She always has had," he replied as we headed toward the side porch steps.

§

Dad was right.  We heard Mother fussing mildly at Dalton when we opened the screen door into the utility room.  "Dalton Evers, you will be the death of me yet.  I declare, the older you get the more forgetful you become," she said scolding him gently but without anger.  "Scooting by me without so much as a 'hello'."

"Your brother is in hot water again," Dad said quietly, looking at me with a twinkle in his eyes.

"It sounds like it," I said in agreement, visualizing Dalton dashing through the kitchen ignoring mother in his haste to relieve his aching bladder.

Dad hesitated for a moment chuckling softly and then said, "I learned long ago, Son, that a quick kiss on the cheek solves many a problem with your mother. Dalton has that yet to learn, so I guess we had better rescue him."

"Yes, Sir," I replied, following him into the kitchen just as Dalton started to answer mother's feigned anger.

"But, Mom, I..., I had to, to...," he started to plead, stopping and glancing pitifully at Dad and me as we entered the kitchen.

I had to turn my head to avoid laughing out loud at the dilemma he was in.  He was standing helplessly in the doorway; and, whereas in the car there had been a pronounced bulge in his crotch, it had been replaced by the faint but still noticeable outline of his flaccid cock with a damp spot where the crown was.  His broad chest was heaving slightly from probably running back up the cellar steps.  His face blazed crimson; and his mouth opened and closed as he stammered, searching for the words that would absolve him of his oversight. 

For a moment, it didn't look as if she was going to let him off; when, hearing dad behind her, she turned and looked at us.

"Mother," he said in a conciliatory tone.  "The boy had to take care of urgent business in the bathroom."

"Oh...,: she flared, winking at dad.  "And that is the reason I don't get a hug?"

"No, Ma'am, er, Yes, Ma'am, but you get one now."  Dalton stammered quickly, wrapping his arms around mother's waist before he was in any more trouble.

Dad looked at me smiling as they embraced.  The storm, even though we knew it was feigned, had passed; but it didn't surprise us when she pushed Dalton away and said, "You can set the table, Young Man and you two can wash up," she ordered, turning toward us and waving her hand towel with authority.   "Supper is almost ready."

"Yes, Ma'am," Dad and I replied, moving quickly, almost stumbling over each other to do as we had been bidden.

Dalton winked at me as he went to the cupboards, and I could see he was relieved at how easily he had gotten off the hook.   It had been a charade, but none of us ever took Mother's reprimands lightly. 

§

Knowing Mother as well as he did, Dad was right about the amount of food she had prepared; and, after washing up, we sat down to a supper of broiled pork chops, hominy, snap green beans, sliced tomatoes and cornbread.   Dad waited to say grace while she sliced another tomato and added the slices to those that she had already prepared.   We all joined hands around the table, and I noticed grace was a little longer than usual as he gave thanks for the Lord's bounty and our safe return.

"Amen," was hardly spoken before Dalton was filling his plate.  He would have very little to say while he ate, unless he was spoken to. While we were eating, I answered most of the questions about our short vacation at Lake Gaston.  Dalton contributed an occasional nod or glance as we were talking  in generalities; but, when he heard me describing the cottage we had stayed in, he placed his fork on his plate, and wiping his lips with his napkin, looked at me intently as I spoke.

"Dad," I started slowly, trying to choose my words carefully.  "Why don't you and Mom drive to Lake Gaston and take a vacation once in awhile?  The village is quiet and really not so far that you couldn't take a week or a weekend off every now and then and relax.  You could stay at one of the cottages like we did."

"That sounds nice, Carl, but it's not that we don't get away," Dad said as he buttered a thick slice of cornbread.  "We like to visit your Aunt Bertha and Uncle Bill over in Kentucky when we have the time.  In fact, we had plans to visit them for a few days when you called that you were coming home.  It would have been nice if you had went with us but, you boys hadn't seen each other for such a long time that we understood you and Dalton wanting to stay home.  Didn't we, Mother?"

"Yes, and they missed seeing you, Carlton; it has been a long time since we all were there," Mother answered glancing at Dad before she continued.  "It is a pretty long drive though even with Dalton helping your father with the driving since he got his license."

"That's why you and Dad should go to Lake Gaston; it's a lot closer," Dalton said abruptly.

Silence fell over the table for a few seconds, and Dalton glanced at me when I nudged his leg with mine.  I didn't want to push the idea of Lake Gaston very quickly, but I was relieved when Dad said, "I never gave that much thought, Dalton, but you may be right.  It's been years since we were over that way, and it wouldn't hurt to take a drive some Sunday after church and just see how much it's grown up since we were there. As I remember it, you boys changed clothes in the car, and Carlton had a hard time keeping you out of the water.  What do you think, Mother, would you like to visit Lake Gaston again?" He asked, chuckling as he finished his thoughts and looked at her.

"He swims a lot better now than he did then, Dad," I interjected quickly before Mother could reply. 

Dalton nudged my leg; and, glancing at me with his head lowered slightly, he winked and quickly brought another fork full of hominy to his lips as Mother started to answer Dad.

"That is up to you, William, but," she answered slowly with a hint of anticipation in her voice,  "a drive after church this Sunday would be nice, and it's been a long time since we all enjoyed supper in a nice restaurant." 

"This Sunday, Mother?" Dad asked, glancing at me.  "I don't think we could this Sunday since Carlton is leaving on Monday."

"There is no reason we couldn't, Dad," I answered.  "There isn't very much that I need to pack, and Dalton and I could show you the cottage we stayed in,"  I said, glancing at Dalton who was sitting wide-eyed with his mouth half open. " After we show you the cottage, we could introduce you to Mr. Ballard, the agent who is handling the purchase of the cottage for me."

I could probably have handled it a little better than I did, but I never was very good at beating around the bush.  Dalton's fork was suspended in mid-air with a large morsel of pork impaled on the tines.  Mother in her astonishment had dropped her hands into her lap and was looking at me wide-eyed, but I could see that Dad was thinking as he slowly chewed the food in his mouth.  I was hoping for support from Dalton, but he sat immobile except for the movement of his fork to his lips.  I was not exactly sure what else I should say, but again Dad got me off the hook.

"Well now....,you are full of surprises, aren't you, Carl?" he said slowly as he continued eating.  "Is that the reason you and your brother came home today instead of later in the weekend?"

"No, Sir, not entirely," I answered.  "I hadn't even thought about buying the cottage, but Mr. Ballard, the agent who handled the rental for us, convinced me that it was a really good opportunity since the owners were anxious to sell.  By using my veterans'  benefits, I got a low interest rate on the mortgage."

Mom had recovered from her initial astonishment while Dad and I were talking; and just as I was about to tell him about needing him to help with the final details, she said quietly, "Don't you think you should have spoken with your father about it first, Carlton?  Buying property is a big decision and even more so with you being in the navy and away so long."

Her gentle reprimand surprised me, and for a moment I was at a loss for words when Dad interceded.  "Mother, Carlton doesn't need our permission; but," he said turning to look at me, his eyes twinkling, "a little advance notice would be been nice."

"I'm sorry, Mom and Dad," I said.  "I guess I should have spoken to you first since I'll need your help, but it happened pretty fast, and there wasn't much time since I am leaving before everything can be completed."

"And what help do  you need?" Dad asked as he continued eating.

"Not very much," I replied, trying to eat and think at the same time. "I've taken care of the down payment, but I need to give you a power of attorney so you can sign the final closing papers."

"How are you going to do that, Carlton?" Mother asked, looking at Dad as she spoke. "You will be leaving on Monday."

"Yes, Ma'am; but I was hoping that Dad could call Mr. Herman, his lawyer, and ask if he could draw it up on Monday before I leave.  My plane doesn't leave until three o'clock in the afternoon and that should give him time if he'll do it."

"I could call Sam after supper and see what he thinks,"  Dad said, chuckling and contemplatively rubbing his cheek as he continued.  "It might cost me a few strokes the next time we play golf, but I guess it will depend on how heavy his work load is."

"Oh, tosh, William," Mom said as she got up from the table.  "After all you have done for Sam Herman, there is no reason he shouldn't be able to do you a favor when you ask him for one.  Heavens to mercy, you went through the war together; and that counts for something."

"Yes, Mother, I know," Dad said grinning at Dalton and me.  "Right now though, I would like another cup of coffee and a piece of that pie before the boys and I sit on the front porch and talk about this some more."

Snorting softly as she always did when Dad had a discussion at home that excluded her, she served the pie; and after filling Dad's cup, she refilled our milk glasses. We knew that after we had discussed the options and requirements of the purchasing of the cottage, he would give mother all of the details when they were alone. 

§

After we had finished eating, Dalton and I helped clear the table while Dad went into the living room for his pipe and tobacco to have his usual after supper smoke.  After helping Mother, Dalton and I went out on the porch to wait for him.  Usually he would retreat to his work shop for an after supper drink and have his smoke in deference to Mother's dislike of smoking in the house.   

The sun had descended below the horizon leaving the sky various shades of orange, red and the light purple that preceded the inky dark.  The twinkling stars increased in intensity as the darkness fell,  and the westerly breeze had shifted more northerly.   The rustling of the tree leaves were less audible as the breeze decreased in intensity, and Dalton and I sat on the top step close enough for our shoulders to touch.  I felt the warmth of the  pressure as he leaned closer; and as I placed my hand on the hard muscles of his thigh and squeezed, I said, "Are you okay, Squirt? You hardly said anything at supper."

"Oh, yeah, I'm okay," he said, breathing in deeply and, leaning forward, placed his elbows on his knees.   "I was just thinking about what Mom said about the four of us being together; and I started thinking about your leaving again, that's all."

Moving my hand from his thigh and placing it on his back between his shoulder blades, I felt the tenseness in his muscles.  Flexing my fingers and moving my hand in slow circles, I whispered, "I don't like leaving you either, Dalt, and these past few days with you have been the best of my life.
Learning that you and I are so much alike has meant more to me than I can tell you."

"Me too," he said, turning his head and looking at me with tear glistening eyes.

"Hey, don't start that, Kid, or Dad will catch us both crying if you do," I said gently squeezing and massaging his hard deltoid muscles.

"Would that be bad, Carlie?" he said emotionally, rubbing his eyes with the knuckles of one hand and saying softly,  "At least I wouldn't have to hide how I feel."

I was moving my hand over his back and trying to think what to say when I heard the squeak of the screen door opening behind us; and, quickly removing my hand from his back, I whispered, "Easy, Dalt."

"Jesus," I thought quickly.  "He couldn't have heard us, but I hope he didn't see me rubbing Dalton's back."

"Hey guys, good news," Dad said nonchalantly with no indication that he had seen anything out of the ordinary as he stepped out onto the porch,  the screen door closing behind him.  "I called Sam, Carl;  and, after I explained what we needed, he said he would have a general power of attorney drawn up; and he could see us between nine and nine-thirty Monday morning."

"That's great, Dad," I exclaimed, nudging Dalton and twisting around to look up at Dad standing over us.  "Seeing him that early will still  leave plenty of time  for us to drive to the Indianapolis Airport."

"And," he grunted, pulling his wicker rocking chair closer and sitting down. "We can still drive to the lake on Sunday if you boys want to; your Mother would like that.   I'm afraid Dalton will have to take you to the airport on Monday, Carl," he said.  " I've got to work, and your mother's church club meets on Monday."

"I don't think he will mind doing that, will you, Dalt?" I said, giving him a playful punch in the ribs.

"No," he grunted.  "But, if it's okay, I think I'll turn in. It's been a long day, and I'm kinda tired," he said as he stood up.

"Go ahead, Son," Dad said.  "We've only got a couple of things to talk about, and I think we will be right behind you."

"Go ahead, Dalt;  I'll be down shortly," I said hoping that Dad didn''t notice the hint of sadness in his voice. " We can unpack the bags tomorrow, and maybe Mom will wash our dirty clothes." 

"I'll take the bags down to our room on the way," he replied, breathing in deeply and almost sighing as he said, "G'night, Dad, see you in the morning."

"Good night, Son," Dad said drawing in on his pipe. "Don't forget to give your Mother a kiss."

§

We talked a little longer after Dalton left, discussing the things Jake said would have to be signed when the mortgage approval was received from the Veterans'  Administration.  Dad listened quietly, smoking his pipe as I talked.  Every now and then he would interrupt asking a question about the way I would set up the loan payment through payroll allotment, and he nodded his head in approval when I finished.  I was starting to feel a little weary and was about to excuse myself when he said, "It sounds like you've thought this through pretty well, Carl."

"I've tried to, Dad, and Jake was a big help in explaining it so I could understand." I replied, stifling a yawn.

"You trust this Jake fellow?"

"Yes, Sir," I answered. "I believe he has been upfront about it, and he didn't pressure me at all to buy the place."

"Have you thought about who will take care of the place while you are gone?" he asked. 

"Yes, Sir," I said, thinking about Tip and Dalton as I answered.  "Dalton can run up on weekends to keep an eye on it if Jake hasn't rented it out when you and Mom aren't going to be using it.  You can use your power of attorney to set up an account with the bank in Lake Gaston, and Jake will make the rent deposits.  That money can pay any repairs that might be needed."

"Yep," he mused softly as he rocked and pulled on his pipe.  "It seems you have thought it through pretty well."

"I think that, I have, Dad," I said, yawning and stretching as I stood up. "If there is anything else, we can talk about it tomorrow if you are going to be home."

"No work tomorrow, Son," he replied. "But, you and your brother can do me a favor tomorrow and cut the lawn.  Dalton usually does it when he isn't working at the drug store, but, after you leave on Monday,  I think he will be working more than he has been since he will have his car and the cottage to take care of," he chuckled.

"Yes, Sir, he probably will," I said shuffling my feet slightly as I turned toward the screen door and reached for the handle.

"Carlton," he said softly.  "Your mother and I have really enjoyed having you home even if for only a short time. She misses you more than she lets on, and I'm sure Dalton will be in the dumps for a few days after you've gone.  I know you and he have been talking about a lot things that brothers talk about, and I'm glad you were here for him to talk with.  He is growing into a fine boy and all he talks about is how much he wants to be like you."

"I know, Dad; I only wish that I could have been here more while he was growing up." 

"That is all water under the bridge, Carl," he said as he stood up.  "You did what you wanted to do, and your mother and I are proud of you. Now then, how about we hit the sack; I'm kind of tired myself, but I'm pretty sure your mother is waiting to hear about what we have been talking about."

'Yes, Sir," I said, pulling the screen door open and holding it for him.

§