Date: Thu, 28 Mar 2002 14:57:59 +1200
From: Tama Wise <tama@hip-hop.co.nz>
Subject: Past and Presence

If you want to check out any of my other stuff, check for my name under
the "Prolific Authors" section of the Nifty Archive, or visit my homesite
at http://homepages.ihug.co.nz/~raekw0n/writing/. Any feedback, comments,
suggestions can be sent onto me at tama@hip-hop.co.nz

Practice safe sex.


Do not distribute or reproduce this document, all or in part, without
express permission of the author. (c) March 28th, 2002, Anfernee
Williamson.

---

PAST AND PRESENCE


He knew his presence. He felt his absence.

How long ago had it been since he had last been around? Sen Dawg stared up
at the dark ceiling, the dull gray shades of night like the cast memories
of his mind. It took him a few moments, remembering back, before he
realized the time. He'd been around about as much as he hadn't.

The youth didnt know if that was for the good or the bad.

Either way, Sen Dawg felt both with the same sharp bluntness. Felt the
both extremes from empty to complete, with the same breadth of emotion.
Both seemed to stir a depth in him that made him ache. The youth yearning
for the times they were together, but at the same time regretting the
situation for what it was. He rubbed at his eyes again, turned onto his
side in a bid to get more comfortable. Sen couldnt sleep, something he
noticed came a lot when he wasn't around.

But this was one of the few times he was.

Sen Dawg lay quietly, blinking into the darkness. Watching almost at the
empty silence that was the far side of the room. A modest, small shelter
from the outside worlds cruel ways. Cast in the shades of black that came
with the depth of night. The room was as uniformly clean as it always was,
the sharp shadows cast from the rooms only window seeming to fall in
almost as strict a pattern. The other bed in the room, still made. Sheets
and blankets cut in a almost military tidyness. Still empty.

Sometimes, when he was gone, Sen Dawg entertained the thoughts in the dark
ressesses of his mind. In that place where he hid his desires. The
thoughts seemed to come easy in these surrounds. The vision lay before him
reinforcing the brief wants that seemed to come in kind. And empty bed. In
the same blunt purpose of fact that that one image stated to him, echoed
in his mind. Built on by his absence. Every time he saw it, he thought it
again.

If there was one, why not two?

The youth only had those thoughts when he wasn't around. In the brief
times that he would have laid like this now, and glanced at the hunched
form that inhabited that brief escape, everything seems fine. It was more
than an unempty bed. It was a presence. One that the youth craved. Yet in
the same way seemed to fight with a confusion that rocked him to his gut.
That beat down on him with all the same ghetto mentality that he saw and
heard day after day.

Sen Dawg rolled back over onto his back, to avoid looking that way. He
wondered why he was still awake. Still waiting, if he truly wanted to
avoid that conflict within himself. Knowing true within himself what he
yearned and what he waited patiently for. Knowing what would be given
without thought, at the merest request. Abuse of situation and closeness,
of a bond shared by no other. What did he think, during those deep,
soulful moments, Sen Dawg thought. Were they the same thoughts as his own?

The youth pushed back his sheets a little on his lanky form. Another layer
of white, this one clinging haphazard from boyish limbs, sagging back on
smooth, brown curves. A gentle slope of human nature, as little free as
the spirit it contained within. Sen Dawg lay his sheets back down to his
waist, feeling the night air caress the softness of his body where it lay
exposed. He ran his hand back over the tightness of his thick black hair.
A usually bold, expansive statement of black pride, tied back into a thick
bush, skewed absurdly to one side of his head. His hand tugged at his tank
top, entertained brief thought.

The silence surrounded him. Even the ghetto seemed quiet.

A statement that spoke as loud to Sen Dawg of the absence. Always silent.
The quiet was as mental as it was spiritual, and even though the break was
as bad as it was good, the lanky youth always found himself wishing it.
Asking that it not be the same quietness that always inhabited. Like now,
the dark stillness always bred a quiet trickle of unwanted thoughts. The
silence caused him to think, when the presence that he was always occupied
the youths mind.

Sen Dawg heard the quiet thump. It was subtle, but he knew the sounds of
this place too well. He knew that there would always be a storm of noise
then, that would carry sometimes for hours. But that wouldn't come now,
not in the dead of night. That was a storm that would brew quietly in the
depth of the grayed darkness. A storm that would most definitely break in
a flurry of questions the next morning.

The youth lay quiet, knowing the words that came to his mouth that would
break the silence further. Ones that would break the silence within his
mind as well, to release a song upon his body and soul. He had spoke it
all night. Rehearsing it on the quiet, in the background of his mind.
Anticipating the favour it would bring. Knowing all too well how too few
times he had the chance. Knew that he would most likely not have that
chance for a long time to come.

This time could be his last. He for some reason felt that.

Sen Dawg heard the light steps approach, muffled and held quiet by the
deepness that surrounded the ghetto on dark. A hush, a private respite, as
if the ghetto sympathized against the storm that would come with wakening.
The youth heard the steps falter somewhat, they weren't even. Not as
strong and steady as Sen had always come to depend on. Hesitation
flickered in his mind. Now was not the time. It was better to keep silent.
Breed the silence within that had come with his absence. Wait until a time
when both were ready.

The youth felt the bluntness of his need kick with each soft pad. As each
step lessened the time apart, metered by the growing thump of his
heartbeat, Sen felt his need rise. A need now, that could be satisfied
now. Fuck time not being right. When was it ever?

The stillness of the small room broke as the door swung open quietly. A
figure, bulky, moving with somewhat stealth. In an attempt at least to
remain unbroken what the night truly was. The silence that lay inherent in
the deep cloak of the ghettos night. A pause, almost too long, as the
figure swung the door slowly back, and the almost deafening click of the
lock by comparison.

Sen Dawg glanced over. Dressed for the night. Dressed for the ghetto, in
dark, deep shades. Any hint at color lost by the drowning shades of nights
greys. All accept the slash of blood red, a proclamation of those that
ruled. The bulky figure moved with poor masking of his true way. Making
his way part by part towards the empty bed. Sen Dawg could see the
hesitation. The unsureness of self and control.

'He should have taken off his boots,' the youth thought, as always
practical. Other thoughts swept aside, unneeded now. He was here.

Anthony. His older brother by many. His silencer of thought, yet supplier
of conscience and word despite what he was. The youths blood and soul, yet
something more. Something closer, despite his continued, sporadic absence.

Sen Dawg waited a moment longer as Anthony sat down. Tugged quietly at his
boots. Put them aside with as much quiet as he could muster. A hushed way
that seemed to be relaxed somewhat now he was in the private sanctuary of
the bedroom. The youth waited and watched, his gut tingling with the
anticipation. The question rising on his mouth, where it had dwelt in
silence on his mind all night.

"Can you help me out?"

The question shattered the stillness of the night. Broke the reality that
was, and that Anthony had tried so strongly to maintain. Sen Dawg saw his
older brother glance up. Pause. recognize. Take in slowly the request
made. The youth remembered the time when even that hadn't been needed. A
time long past that he regretted had left him. The memory tugged slightly,
reminded him that times like that would never see him again. If this was
the last.

Anthony rose slowly in the darkness, boots set aside. Sen Dawg saw him
there in the dark, the velvet silence descended once again, soundtrack to
the intentions that lay. There was a strength and pillar that stood before
him, that he yearned was there more often. There in a different context
even. He saw his brother. He saw what he was, a powerful, ghetto born man.
A man.

The brief conflict rose in Sen Dawg. Put aside by the willingness that
came to please. A close bond, exploited, but close none the less. A holy
and private thing that would never be broken. A knowledge that nothing
would pass, nothing would leave or change, in this way at least. Some
things would always remain between them, no matter the context or the
distance. Some things were too close, too accepted to be spoken elsewhere.

Between brothers.

Sen Dawg made room, shifted himself as Anthony lowered himself to the bed.
Still decked in the shroud of ghetto pride, a blackness that surrounded in
beyond race and clothing. The baggy hang of denim, and puff of his heavy
jacket. The youth made allowance as his brother shifted onto the length of
his body, with effort, lay on his bed with him. Sen Dawgs body thrilled
with the closeness, the ghetto obscene context.

He felt the eyes of his brother. Smelt the strong weight of his breath,
carrying almost the same intoxication to his lungs where his brother had
drunk. Sen shifted somewhat, uncomfortable with the obvious and blunt
weight of his older brothers body along his. Hearing the effort in grunt
as Anthony shifted with him, tried to make more comfortable. Those eyes
comforted him again, that breath making him drunk with each passing sigh.

Anthony kissed his lips.

The release from Sens body was immediate, the response blinding in the
passion it incited. Where a simmering silence and peace had laid on his
gentle, soft curves, now a riot broke. No more louder than in his true
center. No more louder than that which burnt on his soft young lips with
the press of his siblings. A defiling sacrilege, an abuse unforgivable in
the depths of the streets that spawned them. An obscene betrayal of
everything.

Sen Dawg thrilled at that softness, feeling its possession despite what he
saw and felt within the streets every day. He encouraged the closeness
there, drawing his arms up about his brothers body, tempting deeper with
the push of a tongue. The stillness and pent peace that once was within
each released as they embraced, more powerful than lovers. That which made
them men, that made the same union wrong, burning with the riots of their
desire.

The youth tasted everything his brother was that night. The thick sense of
his lips, colored so fully by that which he had spent the night drinking.
That which dulled him to the truths, in the way that these brief, pure
moments dulled Sen to the blunt death that surrounded him on the day to
day. That which told him he was wrong, everything he thought and felt,
that coursed now through his hot veins, was wrong.

Sen Dawg moaned, feeling the fiery passion of his brothers lips pull from
his. He looked at that face, like his, but older. Understanding, even deep
within those eyes, a strange, stark lightness of brown. Those lips that so
freely took his own. Knowing that that which they shared would pass with
such storm and life physically, and would never pass in even the depth of
silence in voice.

"How you want it?"

Anthonys voice was stronger, like so much else about him, in the street
strengthened version beyond his siblings mirror. It cut like a torch
through the darkness, reaffirmed what was wanted. Unquestioning and
willing. Sen drew strength from it, courage to be blunt, obscene.

"Can you suck my cock?"

"Sure."

Not a second thought, or hesitation. Sen felt his body already aching
under his brothers. Hurting with the anticipation he felt. He tugged at
his brothers jacket, the big black pausing in his move to prepare himself,
unzipping the expensive garment with a soft buzz. It lay open on a heavy
black sweatshirt, proofed even under the jacket previously by its thick
hoodie.

Anthony was remiss to the appetites his younger brother showed. Hunched
like a predator, dark and street deadly in his heavy blacks. Kneeling over
his brothers prone body, tugging back the sheets, freeing his body with an
energy of a ghetto warrior preparing to take. To make his everything he
wanted in selfish context. Alone in the silent darkness, and private calm
that was their bedroom, willing, ready. A brutal contrast to the scene
that seemed, of ghetto nigga hunched, ready to rape.

Sen Dawg felt the cold burn of his brothers hands, exploring, pushing back
his sheets, his oversized tank top. Finally, mercifully, his loose boxers.
His own hands tore and tugged at the confines that hid his desire. That
which made his brother so intimate a lover. That which he hungered for in
truth. Caused him to love his sibling in lust beyond what was acceptable.

The jacket slipped off, Anthony pausing in his preparations to finally
release it. To tug at his heavy sweatshirt. Make perfect time and time
again, like their first time, to have it the best for his brother that it
could possibly be. A want born of his love for him, rather than the same
desperate, screaming lusts that he could never truly mirror of his younger
brother. All the same, wanting it only how he wanted it. Giving what he
knew he couldnt get anywhere else. What he would never let him get
elsewhere.

"Hold up."

Anthony tugged slightly, staying the hungry hands that assaulted his
trapped form with a few deep words. He pulled against the confines of his
sweatshirt, feeling it finally give, taking his blood red bandanna with
it. The big man let the sweatshirt fall aside, uncaring, as he went down
finally where he was needed.

Sen Dawg felt his crying hormones peak, driven by the truth in statement
that was his wish. His desire. His true need. That which he yearned for in
his brother as a man, not as his sibling. His hungry, shakey hands fell
upon those huge, thick arms, balled shoulders. Tempered iron, forged by
the anvil that was prison. Promise of what could be to Sen Dawgs lanky
metabolism if pushed. Statement of pride, street. Manhood. Demanded of the
ghetto, breeding powerful slaves to the street, to the plantation that was
the ghetto.

Sen Dawg loved his brother. But this was what he lusted for. Merely that
which his brother was, a true, blunt specimen of ghetto nigga. What he
lusted for lay hot under his hands, dwarfing that which rode thick,
muscular cords. Sen Dawg lusted for his brother as another man.

The youth drunk, guzzled, thirsty for the sight before him. As Anthony
moved himself down the bed, his tight body hugged by a white tank top that
sculptured his form in white. His bald dome free of the prisoning
testimony that made him Purebreed. Anthonys large, strong hands ran
shivers of fire down his lanky thighs as he slipped down his boxers.
Prepared to violate the truths of the street, commit against his brother
what society shunned.

Sen Dawg felt free. Real. Released. As the band of his boxers ran down his
thighs, his adolescent penis bared, lying nested, yet erect under his
baggy top.

Anthony reached, grasped him. His body screamed in the silence that was.

No a word, or sound past in the darkness. The unbroken depth of night. Yet
Sen Dawg felt the shouts, the screams of his hormones, begging release.
Burning all along his body as his brother pushed back his top, made
himself more comfortable for the task. A unspoken, deadly silent scene
unraveling in the hidden sanctuary of their room. A relationship of
closeness bastardized by sexual contact, violated. Nothing less in the
eyes of any as a crime that made Anthony a rapist.

Sen Dawg spread himself, willing, wanting, consenting to the only one who
would let it. His brothers mouth closed around his cock. Willingly.

The youths mouth worked in a painful need to cry out, a release that never
came audibly in the depths of night. His hands grasped Anthonys smooth
scalp, encouraged what was already willing as his wet mouthfuls consumed
inch after inch of his aching erection. A quiet, slick wetness filled the
grey shades of night, as Anthony swallowed his brother deep. A task made
easy by his size, no lessened by the big blacks willingness.

Sen Dawg begged, pleaded, cried out as his lanky body shook and writhed in
pure extasy. So unfelt, finally fulfilled, like as if he had never had it
before. The silence forced on him by himself, by the ghetto, by everything
he knew breaking in consuming waves across his soft, smooth body. Anthonys
strong hands sculpted those curves, pressing back his top, the youth
sweeping it off quickly as his brother painted a colorful masterpiece of
erotica over his body. Within the dark shades of night. His mouth and
hands the ultimate brush.

Seemingly with all the passion of being engaged with on that he had
intended to get with that night, Anthony took Sens body into his own.
Feeling where his eyes did not see, as his brothers clothes fell back. No
less committed to his task as his hands stroked, worked, slid along Sen
Dawgs lanky muscles. Laying back his boxers, with some effort, with the
same gentle ways as if they had been the soft panties of some girl. His
mouth as willing on his brother penis, as if it had been the rich pussy of
that who would lay with him for a night, sucking deep, slow strokes.

Sen Dawgs hands worked at his neck and shoulders, blazing the most
intimate of love scenes across his muscles. The youths own body exploding
with the attentions he received, moaning softly, gentle sighs coming quiet
rather than the heavy cries they burnt as deep within the youths body.
Struggling, writhing sexually under his brothers hands and mouth as his
cock burst in bright fireworks of erotic lust.

Sen Dawg moaned at the wet, deep pleasures sinking around his cock. Naked
below his brother, in an act that made the big black more a criminal.

The lanky youths eyes were wide, watching on as Anthonys head bobbed
slowly between his legs. Taking in the soft curves of his tight muscles,
the smoothness of his head. Feeling the same pleasure under his hands,
that he felt under the hands of his brother. His short dick shuddered as
Anthony drew long and hard back, his hand dipping to grip his thigh, pull
it up. Sen felt his legs moving, his own will and that of his brothers, as
they locked up around Anthonys body, his hips swinging and swaying upwards
in motion to the love he received.

Taking a tighter hold on his brothers lanky form, Anthony sucked deeper,
drawing long, careful pauses along his brothers trembling length. He
encouraged the closeness, preferred it, taking comfort in the tight lock
of his brothers body around his. Feeling Sen sitting up under the
thundering pleasure he took, buring his head deeper within the musty
forest of his pubic hair. Holding onto his huge arms where they held him
close. Tying their bodies closer and closer in the intimate twist of lust.

Sen Dawg craved the passion that held their bodies tight to each other.
His hands grasped lower, tugging at the hugging warmth of Anthonys tank
top. It slipped free from his jeans as the youth pulled himself upwards,
closer to his brother. The thick cords of his brothers arms surrounding
him as Anthony merely closed his mouth on him, held his young cock in the
wetness of his mouth.

Sen moaned, this time in a sound that broke the silence. Anthonys top slid
up his muscular back, the youth working to free it.

Anthonys eyes came up more drunk than they were when he had first looked
into his brothers eyes. Those light brown eyes broken with red, as he
stared up at his brother, lost in the silence of the moment. As if seeking
approval. He let his top slip up off his muscles, letting the embrace of
the warm material leave him.

Sens hands went back to work as the familiar warmth slipped back onto his
skinny head. The youth powerless to contain the strong cries his body
surrendered. He felt the unbearable sensation of his brothers own moans,
echoing through his rigid length, baring unmerciful pleasure in the
vibration. Sen Dawgs hands painting the same lazy patterns of lust across
Anthonys muscled form as he had of his.

The lanky black felt the urgency gently rising within him as he gazed over
his older siblings mostly naked form. A gentle rushing that rose
gradually, peaking, bubbling, surging in a thundering rumble that consumed
every inch of his young body. Knowing what would soon pass, knowing from
the past he needed to give no warning of the seed he was about to so
violently give up. Even though it meant his brother taking, swallowing his
own bloods cum. Anthony felt the rising changes, welcomed them as his
hands gripped tight, his body baring the rhymic dance of Sens quick flurry
of strokes, heralding loud the release to come.

The youth seized. Cried out louder, almost in pain. His brother, locked
around his naked body in an obscene statement of incest. His mouth tight
on his young cock. No only, but sucker harder in anticipation of the rich
reward forthcoming. Welcoming its thick color.

Sen gurgled as his penis shot, his body clenching, releasing within thick
arms, mirroring the life giving process of his manhood. The thin jets of
white sucked noisily as they issued thick flavor within Anthonys oral
embrace. Accepting what little his younger brothers body could surrender,
repayment for the unspoken symphony of sexual release that danced
throughout his lanky body.

Sen Dawg let himself relax as his night filled with the warm day that
seemed to come in post climactic bliss. His brother, still sucking gently,
lips massaging his smaller, limp penis, still sticky with his release. The
pleasure that silenced the quiet within him slowly drained from him, like
his seed has been drained by Anthonys hungry mouth. Replaced by a new
silence. Peace still somewhat, that his brother was still there.

Anthony let Sens penis slip from his lips, surveying the clammy length of
his brothers naked form. Dark, smooth. Peaceful. The youths hands ran
along his naked arms as he untangled his body from Sen Dawgs. Lay
eventually along those gentle, naked curves. He lowered his lips to his
brothers again, this time the taste and smell of the alcohol he used to
forget masked by the strength of male semen.

"Get some sleep, aiight?"

Sen Dawg nodded eventually, relaxed in the light that basked over his
body. Warmed it in the silent dead of night that slipped back into the
room. As if the quiet eyes of night drew back from the scene they had
witnessed. Moving on now that dark act of incest had passed and finished.
Leaving the dark silence within the small bedroom again. The bright colors
that had passed over the youth in the euphoria of sex returning to the
shades of uniform greys.

He felt his brother sit up, slip quietly from his bed, leaving him with
the ample room he enjoyed in his absence. His eyes ran the deep shadows
that where his brothers muscular body. A lanky format, made big with the
strain of repetition, not overly large, but pressed nicely to the limits
of size Sen Dawg could attain.

The thought briefly past the youths mind. What was it that he found so
enticing in those gentle slopes. That caused him to crave beyond others?
The questions came in a calmer format, soft, smooth. Unjudging in the
harsh and hard way they sometimes came, baring self doubt and pain with
them. This time, a mere gentle question, a quiet wim of a thought, bought
on by the vision that stood before him.

Sen Dawg tossed it aside as he tossed in his bed, throwing askew somewhat
damp sheets below him. Still testimony of that dark act that had passed,
as he did his best to make himself comfortable. The sheets cool embrace
seemed to comfort him. A slight caress like that he dreamed of if his
brother had stayed at his side. His lanky body feeling more free, more
peaceful without his boxers and tank top. Clothes dropped over the floor
between their beds, a mingling between the brothers where their physical
no longer touched. The one last part of each other that reached out and
touched between the beds.

The youth welcomed the darkness. The quiet silence that still reigned
within the early morning of the ghetto. A peace came to him after the long
hours he had waited. Waited for his brothers kind favour. He felt his
older brother absence, in body at least, but his presence was with him
stronger than he had felt in years.

For the peace and silence in his mind that it bought, Sen Dawg knew it was
worth it.