Date: Mon, 16 May 2016 23:09:37 -0700 From: Jon Hold Subject: Loving Brothers Loving Loving Brother Loving by Jon Hold jonhold@earthlink.net My boy Ike was born perfect, except for one missing foot. Results of my exposure to the Dioxin in Agent Orange I was exposed to in Vietnam, or so I've been told. I had my cords cut the next day and my wife ran off to the big city a week later. Zane was four years old the day I brought Ike home. I introduced the two boys and, as the staff child psychologist had suggested, I told Zane right off that Ike was different than he was because he only had one foot. As four year olds are wont to do, Zane insisted on seeing for himself. He wandered off for a bit and then I saw him standing beside the bassinet, just staring at his little brother. After a while he sighed, shook his head, and then went into the living room. He picked up his little rocking chair that he usually watched TV in and carried it over beside the bassinet. He sat down and started rocking, humming tunelessly to himself as he often did when preoccupied. Zane was still sitting and rocking next to his brother when I called him to dinner. I asked Zane what he was doing and with all the sententiousness of an elderly Greek philosopher he said, "My little brother has an owie and I'm going to take care of him!" And that was that! Zane appointed himself Ike's guardian and has remained so ever since. When he found out my wife and I intended to keep Ike's crib in our room, he drug the mattress off his little bed and set it up on the floor next to the crib. I carried the mattress back to his bedroom and explained to him that he had his own room and when Ike was older they would share a room. He and his mattress beat me back to the crib. Two more round trips led to a spanking. A spanking, may I say, about as effective as using a bb gun against Godzilla. Tears flowing down his little face as he drug his mattress back down the hall and, holding his favorite blanket in one hand and wiping tears from his face with the other, defied me to stop him. I have a horrible temper, and was stressed to the max anyway. The last thing I needed was a defiant kid. Before the anger could sweep over me though I looked at that little boy, defying the most powerful being in his existence, because he, Zane, Ike's big brother, was going to guard and protect his little brother no matter what was done to him, or whoever tried to stop him. I knelt and picked my son up and hugged him tightly. Crying on his tiny shoulder I told him that he was the bravest boy I knew and that Ike was mighty lucky to have him for a big brother. He agreed with me and lifted my face with his little hands so he could kiss me. Then he told me not to sweat the small stuff. A phrase he'd learned from me. I shut up and helped him make his bed... next to the crib, of course. When his mother moved out and it was obvious she wasn't coming back, Zane drug his mattress back to his room and moved into the crib side of my bed. I was NOT consulted, nor was I given options. It wouldn't have been too bad if Zane had been totally past the bedwetting stage. Laugh. You try buying a rubber sheet for a king-sized mattress! The boys were quickly inseparable. I worked from home, so child care was no problem. Not that I had much to do. If Ike wet his diaper Zane was double quick to change him. After his first experience with a poopy diaper, Zane was just as quick to tell me that Ike's diaper needed changing. He wanted nothing to do with poopy diapers! I believe in all that early childhood development stuff and Zane was quick enough to dig out the flash cards he'd learned his alphabet and numbers from as well as the picture cards that showed CAT and DOG and BIRD and such. Ike was brought to the TV to watch language learning tapes with Zane and had his hands clapped in time with the alphabet song and the counting song. I tried to tell Zane that his little brother couldn't even focus yet, but that did not deter the boy from going through the entire collection several times a day. Zane's first day of school lasted about fifteen minutes. I stopped off to get some milk for Ike and Zane was waiting for us when we got home. I called the school and told them where their missing child was and then lectured him on how life was going to be. He listened patiently and then explained to me that he and Ike had things to do and he didn't want to waste his time playing with a bunch of silly kids. I was considering buying a horse whip when the light bulb went off over my head. "Well, if you don't go to school and learn new stuff, how are you going to teach, Ike?" That was one of the few times I ever won an argument with Zane after he'd decided on a course of action. I was not only proud of myself, I was smug about it! Ike grew quickly and could recognize his brother when he was 2 days old. Zane was a sturdy boy with an uncontrollable shock of black hair, athletic and likable. He had hair on his chest at twelve and went over the six foot mark while he was still fourteen. Ike was a very pale blonde and light-boned. Quick and lively, he will never top five-eight. None of that has ever made the slightest difference to either boy. Zane was a football hero, Ike was a soccer champion. Zane was a track and field champion, Ike was the best gymnast in the State from his sophomore year on. The only team they were both on was the wrestling team, usually at opposite ends of the weight groups. Both boys were extremely competitive. Ike won an important championship match when he got a point for an escape when his prosthetic foot came off in his opponents hand. The boys coach challenged and Ike demanded to see, in the rule book, where it said that he had to finish the match with all his body parts intact? The judges shook their heads and agreed that the rule book said nothing about people losing body parts in a match. Ike nodded his head in satisfaction and then said that his foot obviously wasn't a body part, it was equipment, and that it coming off was obviously an equipment failure and that the last fall should be re-wrestled. That was when I realized that my son was going to grow up to be a lawyer. Ike put his foot back on and beat the kid fair and square. In High School, Ike was only one year behind his big brother, having skipped third grade and totally skipping Jr. High School. Zane's tutoring had paid dividends, caused him to be a straight A student himself, trying to stay ahead of his younger brother. I'd taken the twin beds out of the boy's room when Ike was two. I'm not going to say the boys were stubborn, but when they decided that they were going to sleep together, that was pretty much the end of the options. Ike slept on the inside next to the wall so he wouldn't fall out of bed and that became set in stone as well. Ike played with Zane and his friends and seldom had much to do with kids his own age outside of school. Other than the fact that the bigger boys tended to use Ike for a football when a real one wasn't available, everything seemed to work out OK. Ike mostly took off his prosthetic foot to play games, at least until a proper game-playing foot had been designed for him. The odd way he had of running, sort of a hop-skip-jump, had a way of disconcerting the opposing team, especially when they didn't realize just how fast he could move like that. Ike was the older boys secret weapon against kids from other neighborhoods, often counting coup against kids twice his size. I first noticed the boys sexuality very young. If Ike got in a sour mood, Zane would play with his little pecker until the baby was cooing and laughing. When Zane hit puberty at eleven, Ike was quick to learn how to jack off and suck his brother. Ike was thirteen before his big brother could return the favor for real, but Ike made up for lost time by quickly convincing Zane to take it up the old brown road. The boys didn't flaunt their sexuality, but neither did they try to hide it from me. Our pool was very private and both boys learned to swim as babies. I was taking no chances on having a drowned child. The boys swam naked whenever possible, as did I. And the boys games often involved sexual dimensions. By the time he was 15, Zane was a powerfully developed stallion. A bit over 6'1", lean, hard, hairy body. While he was still 15 our black-haired wonder's shank reached ten inches and kept right on growing. Sexually, he had tried just about everything with his younger brother, including a certain amount of mutual spanking and bondage. Several females, of varying ages, had succumbed to Zane's charms, but he showed no particular preference for females --- or males either for that matter. He was quite happy playing games with his brother. "Outsiders" were just a bit of spice added to his brotherly games. The "Wildman Crew", consisting of Zane, Ike and their close friends, were a force to be reckoned with at any time. You simply couldn't pick on one of them, you ended up having to take on the entire crew of buddies. The boys had started running together when Ike was only three years old. The older boys would take turns carrying him piggy-back as they followed their boyish interests from one activity to another. Summers the entire crew would get involved in projects ranging from erosion control to rehabilitating an old cemetery (and threatening the lives of other kids considering vandalizing the cemetery). Summers were also the times for camp-outs, swimming naked, hiking, building and racing go-carts and just about any other activity an active boy might find of interest. Our backyard held a particular interest for the boys. The complex, multi-level treehouse that had slowly grown over the years in the huge old oak tree was their clubhouse and center of operations. They could dive (usually naked) from one of the limbs directly into the swimming pool. No fire or cooking was allowed up in the tree, so the boys built a really nice campfire/cook center in the middle of the lawn. "Camping out" in the back yard was a favorite activity with all the boys. I was the responsible, understanding adult to the boys and was treated to their confidences as they grew up. I heard of abusive parents and broken hearts. Sibling rivalries and squashed dreams. I tried to be there for all the boys and was rewarded with their confidence and respect. Having a naked boy crawl up into my lap to talk to me or to seek security or the fix for some hurt was common, none of the boys giving a second thought as to whether they were wearing clothes or not. When the older boys reached a certain age they became a little reclusive with their developing sexuality. That changed one day. My wife's college roommate stopped by and did as Molly would have wished. She bedded me until I just couldn't any more. We were enjoying one of those languid summer fucks, laying on some cushions next to the swimming pool, playing with each others body parts and gently vying for the on-top position. It wasn't until I was in the throes of orgasm that I noticed the boys watching from the bushes that screened the backyard gate. Wide-eyed with wonder, they weren't missing a thing. I whispered in Sue's ear that we were being watched. Rolling over on top of me, sitting astride my loins, She spied the boys out of the corner of her eye. I could feel her getting excited. Sue had always had a large streak of exhibitionism and the idea of having a bunch of pubescent boys watching her made her nipples crinkle and swell. She straddled my face and started playing with her own tits while I ate her. I could feel the boys jacking off long-distance! Sue and I put on quite a show for the boys. Giving them some idea of the possibilities for foreplay. As we were getting ready to do the wild thing, I looked up and invited the boys to move in closer so they could see better. When they didn't break cover, Sue told them, in explicit terms, just how horny having them watch was making her and how much she wanted to make sure they saw EVERYTHING! Cautiously, the boys came out from behind the bushes one at a time, and then in a mass exit. Ike was right in front as always, the most inquisitive and daring of the group. I think it had to do with his knowing that, no matter what happened, the older boys would protect him from the folly of his ways. I rolled off of Sue and she held a little lecture/demonstration about the hows and whys of the female body. Her anatomy lesson was well received. The boys seemed to especially appreciate the "hands-on" part of the lesson. Several of them uncontrollably ejaculating as they felt Sue's clit and pussy. One of the boys friends, Bud, came spontaneously as his hand touched Sue's velvet textured titty. Sue returned the compliment by leaning over the boy and sucking him in all the way to his scant pubic patch. Bud when into convulsions and then just laid there panting with a huge grin on his face. The rest of the boys were in awe. Sue gave each of the boys a chance to feel her tits, suck on a nipple, play with her clit and eat pussy, if they desired. My cum was still pretty evident, but the boys had no problem licking that up right along with her juices, looking at me and grinning as they licked her. I finally rolled back on top of Sue and let each of the boys guide my cock into her pussy. The boys about went bug-fuck crazy when I started demonstrating how to fuck. Holding my balls out of the way to see what was going on. Playing with themselves�and each other. I could feel an almost continuous warm rain being sprayed against my legs, butt, back and a few close enough for my tongue to reach. Between the questing hands, the feel and taste of young sperm and the tight pussy I was pumping, I went a little bug-fuck myself � and the boys responded to my blood-lust. Sue pretty much lost it when the boys and I all started spooging in and all over her in one mass explosion. Sue and I woke up next to the pool the next morning. The boys had brought us pillows and had covered us with blankets. We laid there feeling very much the proud parents, listening to them quietly playing with each other above our heads in the treehouse. ----- A little help at the right time is better than a lot of help at the wrong time. ---Teyve