Disclaimer:

This story is fiction, fantasy in a writer's active imagination, and belongs in the "Gay-Relationships" category. It's based in real life, on a brief friendship I had with an older boy in church in the early 1960s. The names and other details have been altered to conceal the identities of the people involved. The true nature of the relationship was never sexual back when I was a youth, and it was as I represent here: a teenager watching over a younger boy who he sensed needed a watchful eye on his welfare. As I mention, I believe he may have known just how enamored I was of him, as I was quite upset when he went away to college. The connection between he and I was never re-established in real life, however, and I still have sad but loving memory of an older boy taking an interest in me and my welfare, a lad unfortunately for me ten years his junior. My memories of him are sweet to this day, and he will never be forgotten, nor his attentions to me. His memory remains "frozen" in time: to me, he is still a blond-haired, blue-eyed Adonis, muscular, sweet, and attentive to me. In my heart, perhaps probably so, actually he will remain that way until the day I die. He was an idol for me, someone to admire, and gentle to a fault. I could not have asked for a better "big bro" to watch out for me. My heart remains enamored of him to this day, nearly fifty-five years later...

 

My mentions of church life are not and never meant to be offensive. It is the way I was raised, and still to some extent see life through that particular "filter," although to a much-diminished extent these days than in years past. The damage that was done by the Baptist church still affects me, to this day, more than fifty years later, and I still have the emotional scars to prove it.

 

This story starts off slowly. The first chapter is a phone conversation, and deals mainly with two men who haven't seen each other in more than fifty years, when the older boy was eighteen and the other only an eight-year-old boy. If you are expecting to get off right away, this may not be the story for you. The second part is a slow start to action and concludes with a mighty roar from one of the participants. The third part is one for the ages, I believe, and may end with more in mind for the two main characters, as David and Bobby Joe get hitched and set up housekeeping, as two senior-gay men.

 

Other business:

I understand the terms of publication on Nifty.org, and agree to those listed; that there is no compensation for the story in any form, that it may appear on other websites as a part of the USENET network [et al].

If you wish to contact the author, please do so at CAfurrball5@outlook.com.  Due to the potential volume of mail, responses are not guaranteed, although I may read them, regardless of the nature of the comments, positive or negative.  "Fire-laced" letters will be ignored, and disposed of, so if you are incapable of staying away from the "poison-pen" aspect of writing to the authors, don't bother sending comments, as I will also block the possibility of any future connection to/with you.  And along those same lines, the pen-name I use is a pseudonym, as I prefer to remain anonymous, for that very same reason.

This story is a labor of love from the author to the website and its readers.  The website relies on contributions to maintain its existence, and myself and I am sure my fellow authors appreciate very much the opportunities this website affords us to post our work here. 

The nifty.org website appreciates any and all contributions, to keep the website running.  Please consider donating, as your personal finances allow.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

"Big Christian Bro" [A Love Story] Part Two

---Bobby Joe

 

Saturday morning, I was up at six, and got the place cleaned up before David called. I wanted to be ready for whatever happened, `cause I kinda figured we'd probably spend the rest of the day in the house, more accurately in the bedroom, if our conversation was any indication of our true feelings for each other. I was still in shock, as his feelings for me were more than just big bro-little bro. Apparently, the man had been thinking of me for all these years, yet still afraid of looking me up. Once kicked out of the church, though, I guess his perspective had changed. Damn Baptists...

 

The phone rang at ten-thirty and I picked up on the first ring, recognizing David's number on my cell.

 

"Hey bro...ready to come over?"

 

"More than ready, little bro. Give me your address. I've got GPS and use that to find you."

"Sounds like you're right around the corner! I live on Texas Street."

"I think so. Mission Valley. You're in North Park, from what I can tell, so probably fifteen minutes, max! Want me to pick up anything for you?"

"Nope. Got everything here we can possibly need, for the entire weekend if you decide you want to stay here instead of that sterile cold old hotel. Your call, though."


"No problem. I'm checking out and bringing my gear. Thanks for the offer! See you in a few!"

 

David's arrival was faster than I anticipated, yet I was ready and I had readied the place as best I could. Hand on the doorknob, the bell rang and I was opening the door before it stopped chiming.

 

"Fuck, dude. You on top of the door or something? Anxious, are we, little bro?"

 

"After fifty-four years, nearly fifty-five, of thinking of a really nice older boy, now a mature man who once showed me all the care and concern he possibly could, you were expecting any less? Get over here, dude..." I held out my hand and pulled him into the apartment, closing the door behind him. David's kiss met mine. It was sweet, and gentle. Just like David always was, and probably always would be, in my book at least. Tears were pouring down both our cheeks when our lips finally parted.

 

"I'm sorry, little bro. I always wanted to look you up, but were always afraid you wouldn't remember me."



"Wouldn't remember the man I thought was practically the most handsome young man on two feet? The older boy who always took time out of his day to say hello to me, and treated me like a friend, and not a pesty little kid like the others did? No way did I ever forget your kindnesses, and your sweet disposition. I've always wanted to kiss you for that, you know that?"


"So, why don't you? Let's sit down."

 

David took me in his arms, then, and I laid down in his lap, face up, and our lips met, once again. My arm went around the back of his neck as I pulled him closer and he closed his eyes for the kiss. His lips were tender as he was, thicker than most men's lips perhaps, almost pouty, yet full of life and love. We didn't come up for air for several minutes. By this time, David was sobbing, and frankly, so was I.

 

"Oh, God, Bobby Joe, I wish I had done this five years ago, now! Fuck, man, my pre-cum is soaking my shorts..."

 

"Don't worry about that, stud. You've got my full attention, now. What is it that you've always wanted to do with me?"

 

"This."

 

He may have been a man of seventy-two, yet has as strong as an ox, and picked me up off the sofa, carrying me into my bedroom as if I weighed twenty-five pounds, not one hundred ninety. Our lips met in a passionate lock, and I remained in his arms for the next hour or so, just like that, kissing as if we were making up for the last fifty-four years...hell, we were!

 

"Baby bro, I'm so sorry I waited this long to look you up. Please forgive me!"



"All is forgiven, David. Just please don't leave me again... You've always made me feel like I'm the most important person on the planet to you. Have you been thinking about me all these years, or just recently?"

 

"Afraid to admit it, but all these years...wondered if you were still around or had moved on, were out of the closet or still living a lie like I was, and what kind of a man you turned out to be. I didn't like myself too much in those years. I always felt like such a fraud. I am surprised my wife didn't pick up on the fact that I just wasn't happy, yet if she did, she never said anything."

"Shhhh...Big Bro. We need to make up for lost time now. What do you want from this?"

 

"I want your cock in me, Bobby Joe. I want to feel a man inside me. I never acted on it, and I always wondered what it felt like."


"Sweet brother, you never acted on your feelings, at all? How did you stand the inner turmoil?"

 

"I had to keep it locked up for the sake of the marriage, sham that it was. I knew if I got caught being with another guy I would be disowned and excommunicated. Should have just gone ahead and done it, in retrospect, since that's what happened anyway, at the end of it all. Can't believe I wasted all those years being someone I wasn't...fuck, Bobby Joe...I feel so stupid!" The tears began to flow again, and I reached up to catch them, instantly changing from my fingers to my tongue.

"Please don't, big bro. Don't beat yourself up about it. We all make wrong turns in life. Yours just took a while longer to figure out than most of us. It's OK. I still respect you, and love you, just as much as I always did, in fact more so, now that I know what you've put yourself through."

 

"Thanks, Bobby Joe."

 

"C'mere, man. Let me help you with those clothes, and we'll get started on erasing the memories of those last fifty years of neglect, OK?"

 

David was like a child in those moments, and allowed me to take the lead, completely and totally. Tears flowed the entire time, yet the smile on his face let me know his joy at being with me, at last, was genuine. Fifty-plus years melted away, as our youth returned in spades, and both of us had rock-hard erections, leaking profusely. His hands roamed through my chest and belly fur, and his hands finally reached down for my tumescence, standing at rapt attention between my legs.

 

"You have no idea how much I've wanted this, and for how long. Please, Bobby Joe, I need your manhood inside me, giving me your life-essence. I want you to make love to me."


"My pleasure, David. As you have never had this experience before, I don't want to hurt you, so we need to break you in."



"No need, baby bro. I'm already broken in by several dildoes I've been practicing with. I'm ready for you. Please give me all of you. I want you, so very badly!"

 

"Mmmmm...very well, big bro. You have any preference of position?"



"I want to look at you while you fuck me, little brother. I've waited fifty-four years for this. Please, give me your cock, and your cum. Shoot your load deep inside me, and stay there, all night. I need you. For the rest of my life, I need you."

 

"Forever, my brother. I am yours, and you are mine."

 

The entry was easy, as he said. I slipped in as easily as if I had prepped him myself. He was more than ready, and made all the noises that told me his pleasure was immense as I bottomed out in his man-hole.



"Let me adjust to your body. Then go for it."

 

His movements showed me he knew what he wanted. I was able to easily adjust and began deep-thrusting, nearly immediately.

 

Whimpering, his cock began leaking profusely, nearly immediately, and shot within two minutes. I waited for his orgasm to subside, before I began thrusting into him, once again. This time, he lasted nearly forty-five minutes, and when I had thrust up into him with all my might and groaned loudly enough to be heard on the sidewalk across the street through the closed window, his face illuminated with the knowledge of his reception of my seed deep inside him. His groans were nearly as loud as mine, and his body instantly twitched, his cum shooting up onto the wall over our heads by at least nine feet.

 

"Fuck dude. You just shot damn near to the ceiling! Look!"

 

His head tilted upward, and his shock registered in his eyes.


"That's what you did for me, Bobby Joe! I've only ever been with you, and this is all I've wanted it to be. Are you good for another round, or do we need to take a break?"

 

"Let's take a break, and let ol' Junior catch a breath of fresh air before round two. That was spectacular, though! And, I think I gave up enough cum for two or three. You may want to go empty out your bowels, big bro. That was quite the ride, though!"


"Your pleasure is mine, sir. I wouldn't have cum that much if I didn't know you'd fully pleasured yourself inside me. The look on YOUR face, alone, Bobby Joe, as you came, was priceless. It's almost as if you thanked the Good Lord for a wonderful fuck."

"I did, David. That was the best I've ever had, and the longest I've ever been able to last inside another man, ever. Your patience is amazing. Most men want only to get off right away, and for me to get off them, meaning to get off the top of their bodies. You seemed to have a woman's perspective, and wanted the friction created between our bodies, almost as if you have a clitoris."

 

"I watched my wife when we made love all those years, Bobby Joe, and her most intense orgasms were always with me directly on top of her body and rocking back and forth. It helped to create the body contact and friction to get her off. When I was under you just now, the friction between our bodies was intensely hot, in both intensity of physical and emotional "heat," and gave me intense pleasure with each and every one of your powerful, manly thrusts, as your body was directly on top of my penis. I watched your face as your orgasm approached, too, and saw you as being totally into it, and not seeing me at all, and that's the way I wanted you to experience it, and for me to experience your orgasm, visually and audibly. Your groan alone told me the absolute joy you were experiencing, beyond the shadow of a doubt, which triggered mine. I am amazed at your intensity, Bobby Joe. I want you to experience that each and every time, from here on out. Your pleasure is mine, and please remember that. I serve you for your sexual pleasure, and it gives me pleasure to give YOU pleasure. Now, let's get some sleep, big bro. Something tells me we're gonna need it!"