Ghost Brother

by CARL DICKSON

Does your mother know you're reading this shit?

Warning: This story is PORNO. I have tried my hand at friction, now I'm trying fiction. This story contains vivid descriptions of sexual activity between teen boys. It contains no truth, partial truth, or half truth. What it does contain is stroking material. If this kind of story turns you off, please find something else.
The author does not encourage or condone sex between adults and underage children.

If you are underage, or this is illegal where you are, then please go away. If you're under 18, Adios come back when it is legal for you to read this smut. If you lied about your age in order to access this story, remember this is our story. Life doesn't always work out like a story.

This story is copyrighted, ©2005. It is therefore illegal to copy or use any part of this story without my written permission.


I feel so all alone. What is to become of me? Where will I live. I'm sitting in the funeral parlor between the ends of two coffins. My right hand is laying on the top of the coffin containing my father, or at least his parts. My head is laying on the head of the coffin with my mother's parts in it. Sounds gruesome, I know. Let me try to explain.

We had gone to Magic Mountain. Dad was tired and wanted to get back to Phoenix to sleep in his own bed. Mom kept telling him that we had put in a very full day. She wanted to stay in a motel but dad said he could make it.

I heard the crash and the sound of metal ripping. Something hit my legs. It was my mother's head. Everything went black. I heard more metal tearing and gasoline motors running very close to my head. "We have a live one!" somebody shouted. I felt hands pulling me. I looked up into a bright light that kept moving from one eye to the other. I tried to sit up but I couldn't move. I was tied to a board. I felt them lift it up and then I saw the inside of the ambulance. A lady looked at me and smiled, "You're okay. It's going to be alright. I don't think anything is broken but we are taking you to the hospital to check you out." I checked out.

It was Monday morning when I opened my eyes again. My best friend, Keith was staring at me as he stroked my face. God, I love this guy. Please don't let me get a hard on. I can't let him know how I feel.

Dad fell asleep while he drove and he ran under the back of an eighteen wheeler decapitating himself and mom. The only reason I'm alive, they say, is because I was laying down in the back seat, asleep. I slept all day Sunday, Keith said that they gave me drugs.

Keith's parents took me home to stay with them until things can be worked out but I don't think that I can stay here. You see, I'm gay. Fuck no, I'm queer. I'm queer for Keith. I'm fourteen years old. Keith and I have been best friends since forever. He knows me better than I know myself so I am always on guard. I started playing with myself about four months ago and I found out I could shoot cum. I realized that all I thought about when I played with it was the boys at school.

Keith became my primary focus after he and I shared some porn that we found in the trash behind the Seven-Eleven. We both got a hard on and decided to jack off. While Keith made a big deal of looking at the naked girls and committing on their big boobies, I stared at his dick. We had the magazine laying on the ground right between Keith's knees and we knelt over it stroking away. His dick was right there and he couldn't tell if I was looking at him or the pictures. He started to cum and he shot all over the boobs in the picture. I started shooting when I saw him start and I shot all over the place. I even got some on his hand and the head of his dick. I was so scared but I reached out and grabbed the head of his dick and wrapped my hand around it and wiped my cum off of him. He laughed and called me a faggot. I told him, "Shut up, you know you liked me touching you." He just laughed again as we flicked the last of our cream off onto the magazine and put our dicks away. He rolled the magazine up and put it down into the bottom of the dumpster so nobody would find out what we had done.

The next day my parents and I headed to California for three days of sun and fun. Thursday night we stayed in a hotel by the beach and played in the sand all day Friday. Mom sat on a towel getting her sun tan while dad and I played Frisbee in the surf. We ate a lobster dinner that night. Can you believe it? We had Maine Lobster in California. What do they serve in Maine? We got in bed early so that we could get over to Magic Mountain when they opened. Dad missed his guess. He didn't know it was so far over there. Even though we had breakfast at six we still didn't get to Magic Mountain until eleven. That was okay, really, we had so much fun that I don't think we could have handled another hour or two. Yeah....sorry, the tears still come, in buckets.

Dad and mom are coaster junkies. I had never been on a roller coaster but I am hooked now. We rode every coaster in the park at least three times. I loved the Viper but mom and dad really liked the old wooden coaster, Goliath, I think was the name of it. The park closed at eleven but we headed out of there just before ten. Dad wanted to beat the traffic. We got gas out in Redlands and got burgers to go then dad set the cruise control and pointed the nose of our Chevy east. That's the last thing I remember.

Keith and his folks have been nice to me. I am staying in their guest bedroom. I told Keith I wanted to be alone for awhile. I guess they all accepted that, at least they left me alone until today. It's Thursday and I'm sitting with my parents until time for the funeral. Everybody said it was a bad idea but I needed to just sit here and say goodbye. I have so many thoughts running in my head but I am so sad. I shut my eyes and just tried to wish it would all go away. I felt somebody in front of me. I opened my eyes and looked up at the ghost of my dead brother and all went black again.

The music was playing softly and a breeze was blowing across me. Something icy cold was against the back of my neck and somebody was wiping my face with a cold cloth. "My sweet, sweet little brother. I am here now. Nothing or no one can hurt you."

I moved. I was laying with my head in the lap of a beautiful boy. He stood about six feet and looked like he weighed about one forty or so. He had the face of my big brother, Raymond, but he was older. This can't be. My folks told me that he was dead. I was ten when he disappeared. They said there was an accident and he would never be coming back. I cried. I missed him. He was four years older than me. He had taught me to ride a bike. He taught me how to fight when that fat slob, Eric, tried to bully me around. I whipped his ass and Raymond was so proud of me that he spent his whole allowance buying me and all of my friends ice cream. Keith and Raymond wouldn't quit talking about it. They told everybody at school that I had whipped the bully. Then he was gone.

I missed him so much. Mom and dad threw everything he had in his room into the trash. I wanted to keep some of it. Dad said he would buy me what I needed. He said that it would be better for me to forget that I ever had a brother. It seemed strange to me. Mom or dad never cried. Keith and I talked about it. There was no funeral, nothing. It was weird but I was only ten so I just had to accept it.

I sat up and looked at him. It was Raymond. He pulled me to him and hugged me. I pushed away. I brought my right hand up. He brought his up and spit in it. I spit in mine. We slapped hands in our own secret way that nobody ever knew, not even Keith. It was Raymond. I screamed and jumped up on him. He grabbed me and hugged me and we cried happy tears.

The door opened and Keith's dad told us it was time to start. Ray and I looked at each other and arm in arm we walked out to take our seats at the front of the small room full of flowers and the two caskets. There were a lot of people there. Some of them I knew from dad's work or church. They were playing church music and I knew that my mother really liked the song they were playing. It was one of my favorites too and with out even thinking I began to sing. I knew all four verses and I just sat there and sang as if I was singing to my mother. When the song was over Ray hugged me so tight that it squeezed the breath out of me. All of a sudden I was embarrassed. Our preacher got up and talked about mom and dad and told Ray and I that we had each other and that we had to go on. He assured us that mom and dad were resting peacefully and that they would arise on resurrection morning and we would meet them in the air with Jesus.

The coffins were loaded into the hearses and we drove out to the cemetery. I didn't even cry. I had cried myself out and now I had my big brother Ray. I was too happy to cry.

We went back to Keith's house. His mom had a really good dinner fixed. Several people stopped by with food and shook hands with me and told Ray that they were glad that he was home. After dinner I couldn't wait. I wanted to know where Ray had been and so did everyone else. Ray told us that it was very hard to talk about and that he didn't know if this were the place or the time.

Keith's dad got out of his chair and came over to kneel between Ray and I. He wrapped his arms around Ray. "If this has anything to do with your being homosexual son, don't let it worry you. Our son, Keith, is gay and we know what he is going through. It had to rough for you, having parents who couldn't love their own son."

I looked a Keith. His face was beat red and he was looking at his plate as if it were the most interesting thing in the universe. He looked at me from the top of his eyes without raising his head and kind of smiled. "Jim, that was not the way I would have done that. It is Keith's place to out himself. You know how he feels about Mark....ooops. I did it too. Sorry." She jumped up from the table and ran out of the room.

I sat there like a big fat turd, just staring at Keith. I saw a tear run down his face. That did it. I jumped up and ran around the table and grabbed him. I turned him around in his chair and kissed him right on the mouth. His arms were hanging limply at his side. His eyes were wider than I had ever seen them. I backed away. He just kept looking at me as a smile slowly grew across his face. "You...mean....you too.....?"

I nodded, "I love you, pencil dick."

"I love you, needle dick." We both cracked up as we realized where we were and who was listening.

Sue came back from the kitchen with a tissue in her hand. She patted Keith on the head and kissed his forehead, "Sorry." Keith just smiled at her as I sat down in his lap.

"So what is so bad that you can't tell us, Ray?" Jim said.

"Nothing, nothing at all." Ray took a deep breath then a drink of his iced tea, "I had an old bed in the back room of the garage. I would go out there and read comic books and be alone. One afternoon I had two of my friends over....." He was struggling to find the words. Jim was still beside him and he just hugged him. "We were having sex. Dad went ballistic. He hit Ji...sorry no names, the guy behind me and it scared me so bad that I bit the other boy. He had to go to the hospital for stitches. Dad, put me in the car and told me not to get out, for any reason. He went in the house and a few minutes later he came out. He took me to a youth hostel. He told them that I was a fucking faggot, oops sorry Mrs. Wade," She just nodded and smiled.

"Anyway he told them that he had a young son in his home and he was not going to have him corrupted by the spawn of Satan. He told them that he would come by the next day and sign whatever papers they needed. He told them that they could have me, he never wanted to see me again. I was only fourteen and not as big as Mark is now. Some of the older boys heard everything he said and they raped me all night long. I hated my dad and decided that I never wanted to see him again.

I was moved to a group home down in Tucson where I have been for the last four years. I turned eighteen yesterday and they couldn't keep me anymore. They tried to call dad and found out about the accident. The head of the house told me and gave me bus fare and this suit to come to the funeral. I have no other clothes, no money and no place to live. I was hoping Mark and I can go to our house and live there. I guess it will belong to us now."

We all sat in silence. Jim just hugged Ray. Sue and I got up at the same time and she hugged him as I sat in his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck. Keith came up behind Ray and lay his head on the other shoulder and hugged him and we all began to cry.

"If you will allow us too we would very much like to have you live here with us, Ray. I have a feeling that Mark my have found that he really didn't have a reason to hide from Keith all week so they'll probably be sharing Keith's bed until I can buy twin beds to split them up again," he laughed. "And you can have the room Mark is in. Or....maybe you and Mark want to catch up on old times."

"Let them clean out the old game room in the basement and all three of them can move down there, if they want to." Sue gave a little wink and wiggled her pinky. We all laughed at her.

"We can do that tomorrow it they want but I will have to replace that toilet down there. Remember it was broken when we bought the house. That's why we never used that room except for storage. For tonight you can move Keith's bed against the wall and all sleep on the floor."

"My bed's big enough for all of us, dad." Keith can blush so well. His pale skin and blond hair just take a good tinge of red so well.


Keith and I just graduated from highschool and are going to go to ASU here in town. Ray and I got the house and the three of us have lived here for the last three and a half years. Jimmy was the one who had his dick up Ray's ass when dad burst in on them. He and Ray are a couple, and quite a couple, I might add. Jimmy is a little flaming fairy, too out for me but Ray loves him and he gives great head. They both went to community college. Jimmy is a hairdresser and Ray sells car insurance. We're all very happy. Jim and Sue watch over us like loving parents and are there anytime we need help.


So there you have it. Is your friction enhanced by my fiction? Tell me about it at fisherman@iname.com.

Hangin' hard, dude.

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