Date: Wed, 23 Sep 2015 21:44:13 +0000 (UTC)
From: a4f101 <ad4dad@yahoo.com>
Subject: Pool Of Love Part 2: The Cure

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*****

Pool of Love, Part Two: The Cure

It had been a long-ass day, a long-ass journey to get here. To Ko Samui,
and the romantic beachfront resort my big brother Garrett had booked,
planning to propose to his now-former girlfriend here. But I was here with
him instead, a sudden offbeat idea that had turned into something crazy,
unbelievable, two formerly 100% straight brothers, balls-deep in love with
each other after one very weird, but incredible afternoon. So yeah, we were
tired, from three partying days up in Bangkok, the long journey down here,
that hike yesterday up to the Pool of Love... and fuck, the amazing
intense, totally life-changing hours me and my big brother had spent making
love in the water there. An afternoon of complete firsts for us both, that
we'd embraced and explored willingly, happily, lovingly.

We had the big sliding doors to the terrace and the beach beyond wide open,
and me and Garrett were sprawled across the bed, entwined, grinning between
slow, sensual, deep kisses. Just making out lazily, lovingly, slowly,
rubbing each other's firm bods, tasting one another's spit, feeling the
vibe between us super strong. We'd showered together after we got to our
room, long and slow and ending in another epic orgasm from me, spilling my
hot teen cum down my brother's throat as he stared up at me with total love
in those deep hazel eyes of his. And now it was dusk and we were just
grooving together, towels still wrapped around our waists.

I ran my hands through the dark fur across my big bro's Army-hardened pecs,
tracing down through his treasure trail, over his strong abs, and into the
spread of it as it fanned across his lower belly. Touching the towel
knotted low across his trim hips, a great big bulge just below that which I
playfully teased along with my finger, then slowly back up again. So
masculine. So sexy. So new and different, and I couldn't believe I'd never
gotten into this before. Had spent so much time trying to get with girls,
when all along, the best possible thing in the world was right in front of
me. For his part, Garrett explored my leaner, late-teen body, all firm and
smooth and trim, a baseball player's firm athleticism. Sensual and slow,
discovering a man for the first time too. We grinned at each other and came
in for another long, slow kiss.

We were enjoying dinner by the beach a little while later, the table lit
just with a candle between us, and it was romantic as fuck. Garrett looked
like he was glowing, and we rarely looked away for each other. He even took
my hand, big rough thumb rubbing tenderly across the backs of my fingers
and knuckles. Part of my brain probably should have been screaming about
how fucked-up and wrong and gay and actually illegal all this was, but it
was quiet. All I felt was complete love for my brother. And it felt so
fuckin' right. So did our slow walk along the beach, hand in hand, the moon
high and bright above. Yeah, it was a total clich้, all of it, I get it,
believe me. But it was happening, and it was like the best thing in the
history of the world, ever.

Almost back to our room, we heard the soft clearing of a throat, and turned
to find our guide from this afternoon. He looked apologetic, but slightly
amused to see us, the big American brothers he'd warned away from the Pool
of Love, and who obviously had totally ignored his advice. And now look at
us.

"There is... a cure," he said. "For Pool of Love. Will make you like you
were. If you wish, of course."

He blushed, but knowingly, like he'd seen this before. Well, probably not
quite like this, two actual brothers, but hey, it was a crazy situation,
you never know. Garrett and me looked at each other, squeezing our hands
together at the same time. No fuckin' way. Yeah, I knew, like, rationally
that we couldn't really be doing this, but fuck... we were ten thousand
miles away from the world we knew, down here in this tropical paradise for
almost two whole weeks. What was the harm in just... going with it, for a
little while, at least?

We made love for two solid hours when we got back, deep and sweet, muscle
to muscle, cock to cock, brother to brother. Sweet heat, steadily building,
flowing between us. It was even better than at the Pool this afternoon,
because we knew how mind-blowing that was, how amazing we could make each
other feel, and we were determined to raise the bar. And fuck, did we. Came
twice more each, and then we were spent, utterly done, dropping like stones
into each other's arms and falling into a fast, deep sleep.

Two more days like that, exploring the area, making love, swimming in the
sea, more long, slow, sweet-hot brother sex, and on and on. We were both
high on it, on each other, on this fucking crazy powerful brother love
thing. And then Wednesday, lazing on loungers down on the beach, the warm
surf flowing over our toes, hands entangled in the space between us,
Garrett cleared his throat, reached into the towel bag, and produced a
little glass bottle. Clear liquid inside, could have been anything. But I
knew, and for the first time in days, I felt nervous. Scared, I'll be
straight-up with you.

"So... this is the cure, Matty," he said, and I could hear the same tension
I was feeling in his voice. We both stared at it, the little bottle, and
wondered. If we could take it. If we should. What would happen if only one
of us did.

The lovemaking that night was different. Still incredible, of course, my
bro is a total fucking stud with a rockin' bod, and I enjoyed every square
inch of it, and him. But the vibe was different, our stares kind of
searching even as our muscles moved together, like we were looking for the
answers in each other's eyes. Not even the hot, thick release of our
orgasms could ease that different feeling. Like maybe this really did have
to end. Like it was inevitable.

I think the word I want here is poignant. Yeah, that feels about
right. That was the vibe, from then on. For the next four days, until our
last night at the resort, before we left Ko Samui, bound for Pattaya, then
Bangkok again, and finally back home. To Indiana, where I guess we'd try to
find our way back to who we'd been before we came here. And hope that it
would be enough for us, that we'd ever be able to find true love, real
love, this love with someone else. See, we both took the cure Friday, and
while it took a couple days to work its way through our systems, like the
guide had said it would, we tried to keep the magic going. The kissing was
just as hot and deep and intimate, the thrust of our bodies just as hard
and sweaty and connected, our orgasms still powerful, intense,
plentiful. The love was still there. But it was like I could literally feel
it fading, like it was ebbing out of me, out of us both. The physical,
romantic, love-love stuff, leaving behind the love of brothers. And just
that - only brothers. By the time we boarded the plane for Pattaya, we were
just Garrett and Matt, brothers again. While Garrett dozed as we flew
across the Gulf of Thailand, I cried hard, silent tears, watching as our
paradise fell away below us. As we left all of it behind.

Monday night, in a beach bar-restaurant thing where we ate some fucking
delicious fish and sank way too many chilled bottles of Singha, the
conversation finally faltered, and we were left looking at each other. It
hadn't been easy, but we'd recovered most of the friendly, brotherly vibe
between us. Being on a big foreign adventure sure helped with that. But
then I felt Garrett's hairy knee accidentally brush mine, and we just
looked harder at each other. Locked eyes for several long, hot seconds,
then chugged the rest of our beers, tossed some baht on the table, and
practically ran back to our hotel.

The A/C couldn't keep up with us, the intense heat and humidity as our bare
brother bodies slapped hard against each other, sweating and growling and
cursing and kissing, hard and hungry and wet. Garret literally fucked the
cum right out of me, then leaned in and lapped it up, my sweat and seed
salty and thick on his tongue as we kissed urgently. It was one of the
hottest, raunchiest sessions I've ever had, all hard and masculine and
fucking fun. Not the deeper, slower lovemaking of Ko Samui. Different, but
we obviously needed it, bad. We sprawled out on the sweat- and spit- and
cum-soaked sheets, looked at each other, chests heaving and glowing with
our fuck sweat, and just burst out laughing. Laughed, and hugged, and
finally admitted that we'd both been thinking about this ever since we'd
decided we had to stop it.

I thought that maybe that would do it, scratch that leftover itch we both
had, but then when we got back to Bangkok, it happened again. This time,
we'd gone to another of those hooker bars, both determined to fuck pussy
until we turned back straight again. But it just wasn't there, the girls
were lazy and not very good, nowhere near as good as we were together, and
when Garrett dragged his into the room I was trying to do mine in, flung
her down on the bed beside my girl and tried fucking side-by-side with me,
all I could do was watch the sexy swell of his muscular ass, the way the
fur on it gleamed as the big glutes dimpled real deep, the shine of sweat
on his pumped upper arms. And found him ogling me too, watching my abs flex
as I tried to fuck, tried to keep hard inside the girl. Eventually, we both
pushed up and out of them, paid them a pretty hefty tip by Thai standards,
and got the fuck out of there. Back to the hotel, where I pulled him to me
by his belt loops as soon as the door was closed, grinning as our mouths
found each other and we tumbled into the bathroom to shower the stink of
cheap perfume and pussy off of us. So we could get down to some real
fucking, planting my hard 18-year-old cock up that beautiful, muscular ass
of his, seeding him with ten hard shots of my cum.

"This is fucking nuts," he moaned when we woke up next morning, all sweaty,
naked, entangled, raging with morning hardons. "We were supposed to stop
this, Matty!"

"I know, bro, I know," I uttered back, rubbing my face up and down. It was
our last day, we had a night flight to New York, and after some more
awesome food and some souvenir shopping, we had some time to kill. Which
led to us naked in the hotel bed again, this time Garrett straddling my
thighs, his big hand wrapped around both our cocks, fucking up against me,
before he fell forward to kiss me again and grind his sexy bod against
mine, rubbing and humping and swapping spit and moaning until we shot off
at the same time, sticky with sweat and spit and even more of our brother
cum.

My brain was fucking churning the whole flight home, all those hours to
think about it, unable to focus on the crappy movies on the little video
screen in front of me. We were seated next to each other, and the tension
was practically visible in the air between us. Not hostile, nothing like
that, just tormented. Confused. We barely said a word to each other, not
through the connection at JFK, not on the plane to Indianapolis, and not on
the shortish drive back to our parents' house. When we got there, it was
night again, our body clocks all fucked up, bone-tired from hauling our
asses halfway around the world. The suburb was quiet. Crickets chirped. We
finally looked at each other, and it was like every crazy, intense event of
the past two weeks replayed for us both, right there in the front seat of
his truck. A few silent minutes later, he reached in back, pulling out his
backpack. From that, a Ziploc bag, and inside that, two small glass
bottles. Full of clear liquid. I looked at him, confused, weary. I didn't
think I could take another bottle of fuckin' Thai mystery water that would
only fuck everything up again.

"It's from the Pool, little bro," he said quietly, watching my face. His
was neutral, infuriatingly unreadable. I swallowed hard. Then he took the
big step, unscrewed the cap on one bottle, and downed it in one hard gulp,
like a shot. Eyes on me the whole time. Waiting for me to do the
same. Maybe scared that I wouldn't, and he'd be left with this tortured,
unrequited love for me, for his baby brother.

Fuck that shit. I grabbed the other bottle from his hand and knocked it
back. He grinned real big, before I practically jumped across the console
and liplocked him. When we paused to catch our breath, he fired up the
truck, backing out of the driveway.

"Fuck Mom and Dad," he grinned at me as he dropped the selector into
Drive. "You're coming home, little brother. With me. To our place."

So, long story short... well fuck, way too late for that now, I
guess... that's how my big brother and I wound up back in love. And now
it's been five years, and we're tighter than ever. Deep in love still,
proving it every day, our lovemaking still just as sweet and intimate and
deep as it was in Ko Samui, and just as hard, wet, intense and fun as it
was the rest of that trip. The total package. We saved up our cash, I
finished school, and we moved back to Thailand, and we're happy as fuck
now. Still in love, still brothers, husbands now too, if not necessarily
legally. And every once in a while we take a trip back to Ko Samui, go swim
in the Pool of Love, and then we get to fall back in love all over again.