This fantasy is about two brothers who find themselves in a number of sexual situations with adults and other boys. It is not just a sexual story and there will actually be a plot, but there will be many sexual scenes. If you will be offended by this or if it would violate the law in your area to read this, then please don't. This story does not condone any of the behaviour described herein. Please let me know what you think of my story! You can write to me at JeffWriter@nycmail.com.

Survivors

Jeff Writer

Chapter Three

Scotty Speaks

            Mother and Uncle Ted had a terrible fight the morning after he came in to see us, when he asked her if we could go live with him. He told her that everyone knew she didn’t care for us and that both she and we would be happier with us out of the way. She pretended to love us and expressed outrage at the idea that she didn’t care for us. And, then, they started talking quietly. Stevie and I were sitting in our room, biting our nails and scared to death about what would happen. When we couldn’t hear anything, Stevie whispered, “I think that something’s happening.”

            “Oh, God,” I replied. “I hope so. I want to live with Uncle Ted so bad.”

            About ten minutes later, there was a knock on the door and Uncle Ted came in. He was smiling, but in a way that Stevie and I both knew that we weren’t going to hear what we wanted.

            “Guys, your mother and I have had a talk and we’re going to wait awhile and see what happens and maybe in a year or two, you might be able to come visit me or maybe move.”

            “Why do we have to wait?” I asked.

            “Yeah, what’s the deal?” Stevie demanded.

            “Your mother and I have talked about a few things and we’ve reached an understanding. I can’t go into the details with you, but I will be watching over you. You can be sure of that. And, if everything works out, someday, you may get to come live with me. I’m sorry I can’t be more specific than that. But, listen. Write to me. Here’s the number and the combination to the post office box I got you. You write to me whenever you need to. I want to hear from you. And, I’ll write to you, as well. OK?”

            We both had tears in our eyes and I could tell Uncle Ted was being strong for us. But, we kissed and hugged and as he drove away, we stood in the front yard until his car was out of sight, waving.

            As soon as he was gone, I turned to Stevie and softly said, “I don’t know what we’re going to do.”

            Stevie got his usual look of determination and declared, “We’re going to make it. That’s what we’re going to do.”

            However, as we turned back to the front door, Mother was standing on the front porch, a look of pure evil on her face.

            “Come here,” she said menacingly.

            Stevie stepped forward and I followed. Once the three of us were inside the foyer, Mother closed the door and then looked venomously at me.

            “What the Hell did you say to him?”

            “What do you mean?” I asked, terrified.

            “Did you tell him that I hate you, that I make your pathetic lives miserable, that I’m a terrible mother, that everyone knows I favor Patty over you spoiled, self-centered little brats?”

            “No!” I insisted. “I didn’t say anything!”

            She started to raise her hand, but Stevie stepped forward and declared, “It was me. I told him. I told said it because….”

            But, before he could finish, she slapped his face three times.

            “So,” she said in an even voice, “you hate me. You think I don’t love you. You want to go live with that fruit in New York. Well, maybe you’ll get your wish. Maybe not. But, I will not be embarrassed and humiliated and lied about. You will not make me look like the shrew before the entire world. You’re going to start showing me some respect and gratitude. Now get to your room and stay out of my sight for the rest of the day. I’ll bring your dinner in to you when it’s time. Go!”

            I ran to our room, but Stevie walked slowly, defiantly, struggling to hold back the tears of rage and pain until he was safely behind the door to our room.

            “Stevie!” I cried, when we were alone. I threw my arms around him. He roughly pushed me away and sat down behind his desk. He stared silently ahead for several minutes as he struggled not to cry. I mutely walked over to my bed and sat down on the edge, fearfully watching my brother, my hero.

            Finally, he turned and stood, walking almost mechanically toward me.

            “You lied to Mother to protect me,” I said.

            “I promised Dad.”

            “I’m sorry, Stevie.”

            He sat down beside me and put his arm around me.

            “We’re brother’s,” he replied, and we hooked our fingers together.

            So, for the rest of the summer, we lived in limbo, not knowing what we were supposed to do to convince Mother to let us live with Uncle Ted, fearing that there really wasn’t anything that could be done, and trying to survive as best we could. We stayed out of Mother’s way as well we could, did our chores as well as possible, and treated her with as much respect as we could without throwing up. Once or twice a week, when we rode our bikes down to the post office in the shopping center, we’d find a letter from Uncle Ted describing some exciting thing he had done or some famous person he had met in his gallery. He took a trip to Key West and sent us a post card from there. He sent us one from a place called Provincetown, that I had never heard of. Apparently, there were lots of other gay people there and he had lots of fun.  He kept encouraging us to be good, to be patient, and to not give up hope. We did as he told us.

            Stevie spend a lot of time out in the sun and he developed a beautiful tan. I just fell more and more in love with my brother as the summer wore on. He looked so beautiful, so blond and slender and tanned. He looked like the perfect boy to me. And, at night, when the house was dark and we were alone, we loved each other in his bed.

            By the time our birthdays were approaching, late in August and near the beginning of school, we had pretty much reconciled ourselves to remaining in Greenfield with Mother. So, I began to work on my birthday presents for Stevie. He was born on August 17, 1954 and I was born August 18, 1957, so we usually celebrated them on the same day. One year it would be on his and one year on mine. This year, he would be eleven and I would eight. He was so mature and intelligent and cool, I decided that one of my presents for him should be a record album. So, the day before his birthday, I took my allowance down to the record shop in the shopping center and looked for something appropriate. Even though he looked like a surfer, Stevie didn’t like surfer music, so that let out Jan and Dean and The Beach Boys. But, he did like British music and he loved the Beatles. So I bought him Help, which had just come out, and Mr. Tambourine Man by The Byrds, which wasn’t British but just because I just thought it was cool. However, as I was coming out of the store, I saw Stevie just emerging from the post office with several envelopes and a small box.

            “Whatcha got?” I asked.

            “Um, nothin’,” he replied uncertainly. “Whatchu got?”

            “Um. Nothing,” I responded in the same vein.

            “They look like records,” Stevie said, trying to hide a grin.

            “Maybe. Did Uncle Ted send a birthday card for me?”

            Stevie nodded, and added, “And, something else. But, I can’t tell you till tomorrow night.”

            He grinned like a brat and then sped away on his bike, his golden brown skin glowing in the sun, his slim legs looking so beautiful as they pedaled, his short blond hair almost white. My dick was hard and by the time I got home, after hiding my presents under the bed, I spent ten minutes in the bathroom spanking the monkey. In fact, I was in so long that Mother banged on the door, scarring the heck out of me, and demanding to know if I need a laxative.

            My second present was something much more personal than just the records. I had drawn a picture of Stevie and me smiling and with our arms around each other. I know it sounds stupid, but I was a really good artist and I thought I did a pretty good job, even if it was with Crayola instead of chalk or paints or something else. But, that wasn’t all. I also made a frame with glass for it. Years before, the house had been remodled and some of the old windows with rectangular pains had been saved down in the basement. I built a frame myself and sanded it down do it looked good and polished the glass and then mounted the picture in it. That night, I got some wrapping paper from Mother and wrapped them.

            The next day, Mother’s sister Edna and her husband Calvin and their three spawn led by Buddy, who was in between Stevie and me in age, were invited for dinner and cake. Mother made certain they knew they were under no obligation to bring gifts, though when dinner was finished and the single birthday cake for both of us was brought out, they made a big presentation of giving Stevie Operation and me a Frisbee. We both made the appropriate expressions of appreciation and gratitude. My candles were on one side of the cake and Stevie’s were on the other. We blew them out and every sang “Happy Birthday” and the whole hellish experience ended just before ten.

            Once we had out showers out of the way and Mother and Patty had retreated upstairs, Stevie and I had our real birthday celebration. Only the lamp by Stevie’s bed was one when he came in from the shower, wearing only his pajama shorts. His hair was still damp and his dick was standing up proudly through his fly. Immediately, he grinned and shucked his shorts. I was already naked and hard and sitting on the edge of his bed holding my two presents for him.

            He went to his desk and returned with a birthday card from Uncle Ted and the small box.

            “You go first,” I said, too excited to wait to see the excitement on Stevie’s face when he saw the Beatles album. Carefully, he pulled the wrapping paper apart and I was not disappointed. His face lit up and he threw his arms around me and kissed me hard.

            But, it was the second present that brought tears to his eyes.

            “Scotty, that’s amazing,” he whispered as he looked at my drawing of the two of us. “That’s incredible. I didn’t know you could draw so good.”

            “I’ve worked on it all summer,” I explained.

            His eyes were moist and he said, “It’s the perfect present, especially with what I’ve got for you. Here.”

            He handed me the small box. It was wrapped for the mail and had Uncle Ted’s return address on it.

            “Is it from Uncle Ted?” I asked.

            “No, the card is. But, I sent him the money to get this in New York.”

            “From your allowance?”

            He nodded.

            Carefully, I opened it and found a cardboard jewelry box inside. I looked up in awe at Stevie and he simply smiled and nodded.

            “Go ahead,” he said.

            I opened it and found two silver colored medallions on chains. I lifted one and read, “Scotty and Stevie Brothers Forever.” On the other side was the engraved “Stevie.” On the other medallion were the same words with “Scotty” on the backside.

            “They’re beautiful,” I whispered. Stevie leaned over and kissed me on the forehead. Standing up, his rigid dick in my face, he replied, “Come here.”

            He turned the lamp off and guided me over to the window. In the glow of the yard light, he took the medallion with his name on it and held it up before me.

            “Scotty, you are my brother and I love you more than anyone on earth. I will always be there for you and if you ever need anything, all you have to do is ask.”

            He then slipped it over my head and around my neck.

            “I’ll never take it off,” I said. He then handed me the one with my name on it. I held it up before him and said, “Stevie, you’re the best brother in the world and I love with everything in my heart.”

            I slipped it over his head and around his neck.

            We stood before each other, our dicks hard, holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes.

            “I love you,” we both said together.

            We kissed for several minutes, Stevie’s tongue taking over my mouth, before he pulled away and said, “Uncle Ted gave an idea of what we could do in bed tonight. It’s something new and he says it feels really good.”

            “What?” I asked.

            But, before Stevie said anything else, he raised his fingers to my titties and began to rub and pull them. Immediately, I moaned and squirmed. It felt good! I couldn’t believe it. He rubbed and pulled and twisted and all the while he grinned as he watched my reaction.

            “Do it to me,” he urged. I raised my hands and copied his motions. Stevie’s titties must have been more sensitive than mine or maybe it was because he was older, because his eyes rolled up and he jerked all over as I started playing with his.

            “Aw, yeah. Aw, yeah, play with my titties.”

            Stevie had recently started talking dirty when we were fooling around and it really made it a lot hotter. I grinned.

            “Am I making your titties feel good?” I asked in a nasty voice.

            “Aw, baby, they feel so good. You are so good. Go lay down. I want to suck your titties.”

            “Oh, yeah!” I whispered excitedly as I ran to his bed. Stevie jumped on top of me and immediately clamped his mouth down on my left tittie. I moaned too loudly and Stevie lifted his head and whispered, “Shhh!”

            “I know,” I replied. “But, I can’t help it. It feels too good!”

            He resumed running his tongue back and forth across my tittie and I twisted and moaned underneath him, loving the feeling and the fact that my brother was giving me the feeling. After a moment, I reached down and started rubbing my dick. I couldn’t help it. It felt so good, I had to beat-off.

            After a moment, Stevie lifted his head and whispered, “Do me.”

            He rolled over on his side and I climbed on top of him.

            “It’s too bad we can’t do this to each other at the same time,” I said before I started licking the hard nubbin of his right tittie.

            “Oh, my God,” he whispered. “Oh, God, that feels so good,” he moaned.

            Suddenly, he looked up and pushed me off him.

            “What?” I asked.

            “We can do it to each other at the same time!” he whispered excitedly.

            “How?”

            He crawled around so that his feet were at the top of the bed. He aligned his mouth with my titties and his tittes with my mouth.

            “Yeah!” I said enthusiastically. Immediately, my mouth began licking and sucking his tittie as he started in on mine. Within seconds, we were two horny and wildly writhing boys, sucking on each other’s nipples and making each other feel so good. It was the hottest thing we had yet done.

            At one point, I could feel something rubbing in my hair and looked up to find Stevie’s long hard dick pointing into my hair. It was so close to my face. As I changed nipples and began to work on the other one, I could see his dick throbbing and pulsing just inches from my face. The head looked so hard and swollen and the slit seemed to open and close like a mouth.

            I wanted to feel Stevie’s dick. I wanted to examine it up close. I wanted to… kiss it! Yeah. I wanted to kiss Stevie’s dick!

            Such a naughty, nasty thought had never occurred to me before, but now that it had, I had to do it. I just had to. I released Stevie’s nipple and he whined. But, as I crawled forward and his dick was just an inch from my mouth, he was quiet. I held his hard-on and it pulsed in my hand as I breathed on it. Stevie must have realized what I was doing, because he suddenly took mine in his hand and examined it. The feeling of his warm, moist breath on my dick drove me wild. I want to thrust my hips forward and ram it into his face, into his mouth. His mouth. His mouth!

            Oh, my God! Of course!

            I began to kiss and lick Stevie’s dick, bringing my lips down on the pink area behind the head. He cried out and began to push his dick into my face. Then he began to lick and kiss mine and I went crazy. Insanely, we both kissed and licked each other’s dicks, making them feel so good and driving each other crazy. It was so cool to feel Stevie’s dick pulsing and throbbing against my face and mouth. I loved it.

            Then, it happened. As I was running my tongue around the rigid and swollen head of his dick, it slipped into my mouth. I moaned and pushed down as far as I could, taking as much of his dick into my mouth as I could.

            He grunted and I felt him breathing hard through his nose against my balls as, suddenly, he wrapped his lips around my dick. He was able to take much more of my dick into his mouth than I could his. It was amazing. We were both grunting and fucking and sucking like crazy, working out hips back and forth, working our heads up and down, feeling each other off. I had never felt so sexy, so nasty, so hot in all my life.

            I was the first to go over the top. I suddenly felt my body stiffen and then I whined as felt my dick spasming in Stevie’s mouth. That seemed to be enough to trigger his explosion. I was barely conscious enough to feel his dick pulsing and jerking in my mouth and to hear his whimpering as the spasms exploded through out his body.

            When it was over, we collapsed on the bed, gasping.

            “Oh, my God, Scotty, that was wild. That was so far out!”

            “Oh, yeah, Stevie. That was the best. We gotta write to Uncle Ted and tell him what we discovered!”

            “Yeah. Man, I want to do that again and again!”

            He crawled around so that we could hug and kiss again. After a moment, with him laying half on me and holding me in his arms, he looked down into my face and grinned.

            “Happy Birthday, Little Brother!” he whispered.

            “Happy Birthday, Big Brother!” I replied.

Thank you for reading Chapter 3 of Survivors. Please write to me at JeffWriter@nycmail.com.