Olivers Adventures

OLIVER'S ADVENTURES

Chapter 10 (Christian and Me)

by Donny Mumford

My first reaction whenever something unexpected happens is to stutter, and that's what I'm doing within thirty seconds of entering my brother's condo in Seattle, Washington. I thought I'd surprise Christian by coming all the way across the country for an unannounced visit. We're wicked tight, Christian and me, and I was expecting him to make the biggest fuss over me, hugging and kissing me and spoiling me by taking me to expensive restaurants and buying me expensive gifts, a Rolex watch perhaps, and things like that. Christian makes a lot of money developing cumputer games. He's brilliant in math and very creative too, which apparently is just what ya need to be in that field. Hell, he bought me a Mini Cooper S convertible when I graduated high school.; rich, like that. Instead of surprising him and the greeting I expected, I'm the one who's surprised. As soon as I stepped into the foyer of his expensive condo my jaw dropped, and right after my jaw dropped I started stuttering because Christian didn't answer the door. No, someone I'd never seen before answered the door. Someone Christian would calls 'Daddy'. This Daddy guy is very large, about six feet, six inches tall with a very athletic build, about thirty years old. His hair's cut Marine boot-camp short, but he makes up in the hair department with thick, furry hair all over the rest of his body. I could tell he has thick, furry hair all over his body because only thing he's wearing is a leather thong, and it's a very small leather thong at that. He has thin metal rings in his earlobes and nipples, and some small studs in the side of each nostril and some sort of needle through each eyebrow, but all those piercings don't cover-up much of him. His really large balls are easily visible on either side of the little thong and the impression his cock makes from inside that fine-leather thong leaves very little to the imagination.

I'd have backed out of here as soon as I saw this strange "Daddy" person except I recognized Christian's voice from upstairs so I know I'm in the right place. When Daddy, says to me, 'You're early!"' as if he were expecting me, that startled me because no one knew I was coming. Then he called out to someone upstairs indicating that 'Chrissie' should give somebody named Felix a nice tip because this 'chicken' is choice, and that's when I heard Christian. I frowned, speechless because nothing's making any sense and that's when I went to ask a question I started stuttering. The stuttering didn't last long though because Daddy, moving as quick as a cat, twirled me around by my shoulders and squeezed me up against his hairy body with my back against his chest. He had one arm around my waist and the other hairy arm around my neck, under my chin. Then muttered to himself, "Might as well get started getting this twink in shape.." Shocked to find myself in this position, a flicker of a thought from long ago swept through my conscious mind. I remember feeling similar thick chest hairs on the back of my neck and under my chin earlier this summer. It was when my twenty-one year old next door neighbor, Edward, had grabbed me the same way this Daddy person grabbed me. Both Daddy and Edward are extremely hairy individuals. I'd dropped my satchel during Daddy's quick assault so both my hands were free to assist in my escape. Using them I try to pry Daddy's furry arm away from my neck, but he casually rounded up my arms and pinned them to my side with his free arm, the one that had been around my waist, and he did it so easily it's disturbing. I began a frantic and spastic effort to get lose. Unperturbed, Daddy shouted up to my brother, "Take a quick shower like you were going to. I'll get our playmate here cleaned-up and situated just right down in the playroom. He's cute and feisty."

Just a fraction of a second before I could shout-out for help, Daddy cups his hand over my mouth and leans his head down to moistly say in my ear, "Stop squirming around, boy. I like my boys docile. Didn't Felix tell you anything?" Daddy's voice is very deep and he spoke without haste. Also he apparently is used to being paid attention to. After telling me he liked his boys docile he drags his tongue along the side of my face from my cheek to my forehead. Then he does it again. Gross! I kick my feet against his shins, but with sneakers on I'm not going to do much damage to this mountain of a man. Trying to move my head away from that hand on my mouth and avoid more large spongy tongue action, and also so I can tell him who I am, but my movements only gets a long hissing sound coming out of Daddy and he pinches my nostrils closed with his thumb and index finger. Now I can't speak or breathe. I try energetically to get free, but Daddy's much too big and strong. All I feel on the back of my neck and on my bare arms and legs is Daddy's hairy body. Again I think, 'Gross!'. He casually leans his head down again and in that deep, hypnotic voice slowly says, "I told you, Daddy likes his boys docile. Shhhh, be still boy. Calm down and stop struggling or I'll keep your air pinched off until you pass-out. It's all the same to me, but if you pass-out you'll have a bad headache when you come to. Now, calm down you cute thing." These instructions are followed by a long wet kiss near my mouth and his five o'clock shadow is like a wire brush against my skin. He nuzzled his nose under my chin on my neck and I hear him inhale deeply a few times smelling me, then more scrapes from his stiff wire beard. The fondling and the scratchy beard is of small concern to me by now, however, because I need air so badly I can feel myself drifting off and a feeling of panic really sets in. With all the will power I can muster I fight off the panic and stay still in his arms. After a couple of seconds Daddy said, "Okay boy, that's better; now let your body go limp in my arms. Do as Daddy tells you, son. Be docile. Gooood boy. Good boy." I let myself get so limp I'd fall over if he wasn't holding me up.

He whispered, "Stay like this and I'll count to three and then let you have the air you want so badly. Okay? Nod your head, son." I nod my head once, but I'm going to pass-out before he gets to three. I feel nauseous as he begins his slow count I'm resigned to passing out, but finally I do hear the word 'three. He releases my nostrils and delicious air pours in as I inhaled with such force I my nostrils quiver as the air streams in. Exhale, and another long inhale, and again. Mucus runs out of my nose and tears flow from my eyes because of the nose pinching, but I don't care, I'm breathing again. Daddy says, "That's my boy. You'll be okay now. You'll learn to do what Daddy tells you. Nod your head, boy, to tell Daddy you're ready to behave." Instead, again I try to turn my head, just enough to get eye contact with him, that's all. I want to somehow to signal him that I'm not who he thinks I am. I'm not who Felix sent him. But, as soon as I move my head just slightly he clamps his index finger and thumb shut on my nostrils again and said, "So, you're a slow learner; doesn't make you a bad boy necessarily. We're not all geniuses. When you're ready you'll relax for Daddy and be real docile for me again. Won't you, boy? Come on, you can do it." This time no matter how limp I make my body, and believe me I tried, he continues clamping off my air. Punishment I guess. He must have pinched off my air for a longer time than before because I think I blacked out. All I know is that all of a sudden I'm inhaling tons of air, but I'd never heard him count this time. Tears cover my face now and all along my lips more mucus had drooled from my nose; it had to be all over Daddy's hand too. "That's my good boy. Stay docile. By the way, you smell good, like a baby, anyone ever tell you that?"

Staying limp, like a rag doll because what's the use of trying to fight him. It seems like he's talking to himself when he said, "Wonderful smelling boy, but all this nasty hair is going to have to go first thing." Then to me, "I'm letting go of your waist for a second. Keep your body limp, boy, but keep it leaning back against me or we'll do the nostril thing again." Then talking to himself again, "Let's see what we got down here." He let go around my waist and shoved his hand down the front of my cargo shorts, and inside my boxer underwear. The force of this move was such that the top button on my shorts pops off and lands on the hardwood floor where I hear it bounce a few times and then roll somewhere. My zipper splits open and that big hand of his cups my cock and balls. "Just about what I expected considering you're not that large, but all this bush hair. Didn't Felix even tell you about that? This has to be shaved too. Daddy likes his boys smooth, totally smooth. Everybody knows that." He squeezes my nuts a little and keeps the pressure slightly tighter and tighter as I'm desperately trying to stay limp as a rag doll. Daddy whispers, with that deep voice of his, " That's Daddy's good soldier. I'm going to squeeze your little nuts a tiny bit harder now. Take it, take it, a little tighter. Good boy!" I was whimpering quietly to myself from the pain in my balls, but he didn't hear it. Then he moves his hand, still inside my boxers, around past my hip and grabbed a big handful of my buttocks. "Oh yeah, boy. This is excellent. Tight and full. A high mark for this bumper of yours, boy. Very nice." He squeezes it hard, but I stay limp like he'd instructed. He mutters, "That's my good boy." I feel his finger up and down my crack now. He says in a quiet, surprised voice, "Can I believe this? You are naturally hairless around your hole? That's so rare. Later on I'm going to lap at that hole of your's till you squeal like a piglet." Gross! Him doing it, I mean.

Then, the very next second, I feeling big pain because he'd stuck his fat index finger in my dry hole with no lube, no spit, no rubbing, no nothing. Without thinking, I struggled to get free. Right away my nostrils are clamped shut and shortly I stop struggling and concentrated on tolerating his rough, dry finger pressing up further and further inside me. Daddy absently mumbled, "Good boy. Be docile for your Daddy." He's breathing with short panting breaths as he said it. Some of my hole's natural lube came to my rescue as he finger-fucked me with long strokes the full length of his index finger. I swear he has the fattest finger of any human alive. He found my prostate button after a bit and begins massaging that. Very quickly I feel my nuts churning sperm around and in less that thirty seconds cum streamed out of my soft penis and continues drooling out as Daddy keeps rubbing the same hot spot. I'm squirming again and the fingers clamped off my air and I immediately stop the squirming and in an instructional manner Daddy said, "Everyone lets loose their cum when their button is pressed a few times, did ya know that, boy? I just needed to milk you out now so you don't blow that teenage spunk all around when the three of us are playing together a little later on. You teens can't control yourselves all that well." His fingering is beginning feeling good now and even though I didn't want one, I'm getting a boner in my wet jockey shorts.

Daddy notices the slight swelling in my cargo shorts, which are by now hanging half off of me, and he says, "That's right boy, enjoy yourself. It will be fun, but first I need to get you cleaned-up. I like my boys real smooth, like I said." He increased the pressure on my hole and goes, "Up on your toes now boy and tip toe over to the little elevator over there and we'll go downstairs where I'll buzz all this hair off your head in less than two minutes flat. Then those pubes of yours will come off right after that and we'll be ready to have a good time. Chrissie should be here any minute now. Oh my goodness, are you ever going to turn him on.'Hot' ain't going to cover how turned-on Chris is gonna get with you. You are one choice twinky." We start toward the elevator with me up on my toes and Daddy's fat, strong forearm tight under my chin. The elevator, which I can't see yet, is apparently was just around the corner of the foyer. Daddy stops fingering my hole and moves his hand around to my cum soaked shorts begins stroking my cock using his thumb and index finger. I can feel the wetness from my hole on his index finger and it mixes with my cum making a slippery substance to aid in the boner stroking. Almost immediately I hard boner that sticks straight out. Daddy chuckled and I think it's my boner that made him laugh, for some reason. He whispers, "You're something alright. Give me a kiss," and he twists my head around uncomfortably and kisses my lips. His whiskers scratched my face and his fat tongue goes inside my mouth as I stay docile. It was a quick kiss, but even so I felt throwing-up, but in the nick of time my stomach settled down.

He had me tip toe around the corner and there it was, a small elevator. It's the kind you might see in an old movie about Europe; kind of fancy, but definitely nothing you'd see in a modern hotel or anything. My cooling cum is drooling down the inside of my left thigh. My boxers are saturated with my spunk and a big round wet spot shows through on my cargo short's lap, especially where my boner pokes them out tent style. Daddy says, "When were downstairs to the playroom take all your clothes off and then stand still with your head bent forward over the big trash can in the corner. This way your hair will fall in the trash when I buzz it off, then I'll do your bush. You'll be all smooth and cute and young looking. Can you do that for Daddy? Stay still for me while I clean you up? Huh? Nod your head if you can." I nod my head. What choice di I have. Hair grows back and I feel completely powerless with Daddy and don't want my nostrils pinched again either. He says, "Good boy, but be a little more docile for me now, boy. You're tightening up some." I let my body get even more limp and Daddy coos, "You're going to be Daddy's good smooth boy." I'm resigned to my fate and even feel, in a weird way, safer this way with Daddy. Contradicting him seems foolish and anyway he isn't talking about castrating me, just cleaning me up a bit because he cares how I looked. I know it seems crazy or weird that I so easily fell under his control, but it seems almost natural and surely has a lot to do with my newly discovered willingness to be submissive. He has a special way about him and my boner and my hole feel real good and; having someone taking care of you and make decisions for you sometimes takes all the pressure off and can be a relaxing thing. With all Frankie's problems and me being in the closet and now this Christian/Daddy thing, I don't need anymore stress in my life right now. I couldn't handle anymore. Best to just go along and do as I'm told.

Plus, Daddy is so hypnotic about everything he does; the way he talks, moves and controls me has sort of hypnotized me to some degree. There's a part of me that wants to do what Daddy tells me to do and Im going to try hard to please him and get him to say 'Good boy' some more. I'm so docile now it's almost like I have no bones in my body, except for the six inch one that feels so good being stroked. Fuck my hair. Sure, I'd been saving it for Alexander to cut, but Daddy wants it all buzzed off and so what. What's the big deal. I'll wear a hat when I go to see Alexander. Plus, it's going to feel so sexy when Daddy laps my hairless hole till I squeal like a piglet. I'm kind of interested to hear how a piglet squeals too? The elevator clunked to a halt, up from the basement and Daddy opens the door which is just brass bars with a few brass ornamental decals of flower here and there. Daddy says, "Oh, wait a minute. I think those barber clippers are in the kitchen 'junk drawer'. Wait in the corner of the elevator for me, boy." I walk in, still on my tip toes, and Daddy says, "Further back, tight in the corner and don't move." I press myself in the corner of that little elevator and wait for Daddy who returns in a minute carrying professional barber clippers in one hand along with a tube of KY jelly. "I can't find the clipper attachments, son, but we'll just go with the bare #1 blade. Okay, boy? Nod your head if you understand." I nod my head and realized I hadn't spoken a word since my initial stuttering. Somehow I know Daddy doesn't want me to speak.

He got me in his bear-hug again and by now I feel comfortable with it. The arm around my waist holds the lube and the clippers. His thick chest hair tickles the back of my neck, but doesn't bother me now. He gives me the, "Good boy" as I limply nestle in against him. Daddy kisses, than licks the side of my face muttering, "This goddamn hair is in my mouth". He hits the button on the elevator and things begin grinding and then a jolt, but just before it starts up Christian shouts from the second floor that he's done his shower and can he watch Daddy train the new boy. Daddy shouts back, "Hurry-up Chrissie, but forget about watching the training 'cause this one is Daddy's boy already. It took about ten minutes." I heard the slap, slap, slap of leather sandals on hardwood steps as Christian hurries down to join us. "No shit, Daddy. Ten minutes? A new record for you." It's absolutely amazing, but just hearing Christian's voice again snaps me right out of my hypnotic state; it's like a hard slap in the face. I blink my eyes a number of times to clear my head and help me leave behind that rather pleasant trance-like state I'd been in. What the fuck was I thinking? Now it's hard for me to even believe that I'd been so willing to be this nitwit's 'boy' or whatever the fuck this is all about. I shake my head slightly to clear my mind some more and Daddy says sternly, "Docile, boy". I think, "Fuck you! Docile this!" as Christian comes around the corner and I see him out of the corner of my eye. His hair's almost as short as Daddy's and it looks very odd on Christian who never had a short haircut in his life back home. He's very thin and very naked except he does have sandals on and a dark leather doggie collar with a silver chain link leash hanging down his back. The leash has a leather handle at the end of it that almost touched his heel. If I could speak, which I can't because Daddy has his hand across my mouth, I would have started stuttering. A dog collar?

The only other thing on Christian is a leather belt around his thin waist that has a hard leather flap hanging from the front with two round holes outlined in silver or chrome. In one Christian has somehow gotten both his nuts squeezed through the smaller hole and in the other his semi-hard penis. When he walks he gives himself a little jerk-off from his cock sliding a bit forward and then backward in the just big enough ring opening. His balls are dark red from being strangled in their too small opening. Christian acting like a little kid with a big excited smile on his face and a conscientious attitude about pleasing Daddy. "What's he look like, Daddy?" Christian asks in his imitation of a little boy's excited voice. Daddy says, "Here, take these fucking clippers from me so I can get this boy posed. He's a beauty." Christian takes the clippers and the KY jelly and I hear him gasp. By just taking the two steps inside the elevator, even though he only sees one of my eyes, half my forehead and some of my hair, and even though it couldn't possibly be me here in his house, not in a million years, he instantly knows it's me. Christian screams,"LET GO OF HIM, GLEN! HE'S MY BROTHER, OLIVER! LET FUCKING GO OF HIM RIGHT NOW!!!

Daddy, now Glen, apparently lets me loose and steps away from me truly taken by surprise. Maybe Christian has never yelled at him before about anything. I stand in place with my boner going down quickly. Daddy, with a sincerely confused look on his face, mutters, "What..?" as the doorbell rings, followed by a single knock of the big brass door knocker on the outside of the front door. I watch Christian and Daddy's startled look at each other. They hold the look for a second and then Daddy nods his head at the front door, "That's Felix's real boy prostitute now. Right? It's exactly seven-thirty. Jesus Christ, Chris, I'm sorry. How could I know though? You won't even let me in his room." Christian yells, "How about the half dozen pictures of Oliver I have around the condo? You never looked at them?" Daddy goes, "I didn't connect the two. Your brother wasn't expected, why would I think it's him?" It's like I'm not even here. Daddy looks at me and mumbles, "Sorry, I owe ya one, kid. Man, I'm so fucking sorry, really. I'll make it up to you somehow," then he goes over to answer the door. His demeanor is now totally different from one minute ago. Now he seems like a nice person, perhaps a Physical Education teacher in drag. Christian holds up his index finger at me indicating, "Hold on for just a second" and he may have thought he was talking when he moved his lips to, "I'll be right back," no words came out though. I read his rosy lips and his face is just as rosy from blushing. He must be incredibly embarrassed about me seeing him in that absurd getup. Christian flies up the stairs and I cautiously walk out of the elevator and around to the foyer in time to see Daddy opening the door the same way he opened it for me, standing behind it with his head sticking out, making sure it wasn't the Avon Lady or something. I lean self-consciously up against the wall just around from the elevator. My hands loosely clasped together in front of me covering the big, wet cum spot on the front of my shorts. As Daddy is opening the door I do one of my fake coughs, from nervousness.

Daddy gives me a quick glance and then checks to see who's at the door. It wasn't the Avon lady. Standing there is a tall thin guy about twenty-two years old. Real short haircut, longish plain-looking horse face. Big hands and feet, big bobbing Adams apple too. This goof is incongruously dressed in a pair of little boy's short-shorts and a wife-beater T shirt that's a few sizes too small so that it doesn't reach to his belly button, which has a large ring in it. On his feet, ballet slippers. As soon as he moves he looks like someone miming a stereotypical gay man with limp wrists and a mincing step. When he speaks to ask, "How's everyone doing?" he lisps so heavily Daddy immediately tells him, "Shut the fuck up". The visitor holds up his hand then, like he's in class, and looks expectantly at Daddy who makes a face like, "What now?' Then, rolled his eyes at the raised hand and exasperatedly asks, "Yeah?". The visitor says, "My name is Martin." He looks first at Daddy, then at me. To me he said, "Yumm" and to Daddy, while reading from a piece of paper, he said, "Mr Felix says I'm to report to a mister Daddy. Would that be you?" Martin lisps all this out with a spray of saliva and a girlish tilt of his head. "Oh fuck," mutters Daddy. He looks over at me and shakes his head, asking, "You see now why I was so excited when I opened the door and saw you? Huh? Do ya?" I'm still too unnerved by my experience with Daddy to see the humor in anything so I stare back at Daddy blankly and he mumbled, "Sorry, Oliver. My bad." Then to Martin, "Let's go sweetie. You're paid for so I guess you and I will adjourn to the playroom in the basement. There's a few things I need to explain to you before we begin though."

Martin looks disappointed and nods his head towards me lisping, "Mr Felix said it was a three-way. He's not coming?" When Martin is informed I wasn't part of tonight's activities he puts on a furious pout and informs Daddy, "Just so ya know, I don't rim uncleaned doo-doo holes." and minces off in the direction Daddy's pointing. With a discouraged expression on his face, Daddy goes around the corner after Martin. Being alone for the moment I grab a clean pair of shorts out of my satchel and quickly change my shorts and underwear. Jamming the cum soaked boxers and cargo shorts in the bag I hear the elevator start up and, at the same time, Christian coming down from upstairs. I have to smile; Daddy and Martin 'the odd couple'. Christian, now fully clothed, turns down a hallway at the bottom of the stairs, says to me, "In here Oliver, I need a drink." I follow him into a room with a bar like you might find in a small upscale hotel. In front of the bar are six beautiful dark red leather stools with arms and backs and brass foot rails. The bar stools swiveled too. A long, thick mirror behind the bar with about thirty bottles of booze all lined right up in front of it reflecting back to the room. There's a large flat hi-definition TV hanging on the wall, like a picture. Also hanging on the dark, wood-paneled walls are a couple dozen autographed photos of a number of sports and entertainment personalities that I recognized. I'm wondering how Christian met all these people so quickly. He pours Jack Daniels into a short, squat glass and drinks it in one swallow. Then pours a larger one and begins sipping it.

"You want something to drink, Oliver?" Christian asks the question without actually looking at me. In a flat sounding voice I tell him, "No thanks". Christian starts slow by saying he doesn't know what emotion he felt strongest about; his really pissed-off frame of mind caused by the fact that I would sneak up on him totally unannounced and cause him this tremendous amount of anxiety. After pausing to think about that for a second he admitted that perhaps that thought wasn't completely rational, but he was pretty fucked-up at the moment. This got me a little pissed-off too, and I ask, "What's the other emotion in competition with that one, Christian?" He looks up at me now, probably because of my tone of voice. After staring at me for a few seconds with a hurt look on his face, he says, "The other emotion is embarrassment. I'm humiliated and beyond embarrassed you saw me like that. Actually, embarrassed doesn't begin to cover it. It's way past embarrassing." He takes a long pull on the bourbon and mumbles, "It's just gay role playing ya know. Glen and I do it for sexy fun every so often. Maybe about once a month at the most. I don't expect you to understand or relate to that, but there it is." He does an ironic chuckle then follows it with a groan, and says, "And it had to be the one night you decide to fly in from fucking Pennsylvania. I can't believe my fucking luck."

He finishes off his second drink and puts ice in the glass for his third. Lots of Jack Daniels too, and a splash of water. Christian lights a Marlboro with a shaky hand holding a fancy silver cigarette lighter. "I don't suppose you're dumb enough to smoke, are you Oliver?" I was sitting in front of the bar on one of the beautiful bar stools. Christian's behind the bar, close to the booze. I pick-up his pack of cigarettes, shake one out and light it with the silver lighter. My hand is shaky too. Christian looks at me smoking and mutters, "Oh, shit." Ignoring that and instead I try to blow a smoke ring like Pete is trying to teach me to do. It doesn't work, just a cloud of smoke that Christian first frowned at and then waves at to help dissipate it. I do one of my fake coughs and sit there in silence, smoking. "God damnit, Oliver. Talk to me. You can't be surprised I'm gay, so it's just the bizarre circumstance you saw me in that's so upsetting. Right? Is that it?" I don't know why he thought I shouldn't be surprised he's gay, but something scary ran around in my head when he said it. Something isn't right about that, but what? Biting my fingernail now, in between puffs on my smoke, and then I ask, "Why shouldn't I be surprised?" He looks at me like I'm nuts and then says, "As if you don't know, it's because of the whole Edward Knight deal of course". The way he said it is like it's the most obvious thing in the world. This conversation is making me really nervous, but I still didn't know why. I nod at Christian like I know what he means while I racked my brain trying to think what the hell it could be. The Edward Knight deal doesn't mean anything to me.

Edward Knight is our neighbor, of course. He's two years older than me and I'd mentioned him earlier because of his hairy body, like Daddy's. Also he's the one who tried getting me in a headlock at the cookout after my Wildwood vacation. Years ago I'd had a big crush on him. I'd known I was gay early in my life, but no one else knew. I certainly didn't think Edward was gay. He was the big man on campus type at high school, supposedly a chick magnet. Mister macho sports hero, the whole deal. I don't particularly care for hairy bodies now, but back when I had my crush on Edward I fantasized him hugging me against his hairy body with both of us in speedos. Crazy, I know, but I liked to wear Christians old speedo back when I was a kid. I remember jerking-off so many times thinking about that hairy body of Edward's. Actually, thinking about it right now has my willy moving around in my cut-offs a little bit. Weird. On the negative side of things, Edward has always been a blow-hard and a bully. He's also someone who has an impossibly high opinion of himself, so all and all, he's an asshole as a person. And now Christian goes and mentions Edward as the reason I shouldn't be surprised he's gay. It has my head spinning. "What do ya got that I can drink, Christian?" I decided I needed to get a little drunk. We decide on vodka and grapefruit juice for me. It's real tasty if ya like grapefruit juice. I drink some, light another cigarette and say, "Okay, here's the deal, Christian. I don't know what you mean about the Edward Knight deal." At first he wouldn't believe me, but as we talk he came to think it had to be a suppressed memory for me. The Edward Knight deal occurred during the time-frame I'd had the huge crush on Edward. What happened was I'd bumbled into our garage during a rain storm and caught Edward fucking Christian. I still didn't remember it even after Christian told me about it. And I find it mighty hard to believe too.

We talk it through and eventually we believe each other; Christian believed me that I can't remember anything about it, and I believed him that it happened. At that time in my life I was trying to recover from Tyler's death and all the trials and tribulations that I went through with that process was probably a factor in me surprising the memory. We have more drinks and smoke more cigarettes as we talk about that time and about Christians' gayness. Frankly, it's one of the biggest surprises of my life. The thought Christian might be Gay had never entered my mind. After he told me, though, I did think back to his recent kiss on my lips just before the Wildwood trip and, hell, all the kissing between us initiated by Christian. But at this point that's just the twenty/twenty hindsight we all have. Later we heard the roar of a motorcycle muffler and tires squealing on the pavement. Christian tells me that was Glen's way of saying good night. Christian and Glen met at a gay pick-up bar his first month in Seattle. They're sex buddies and friends, not a couple or anything like that. Glen spends an occasional nights and day here so he's very comfortable and familiar with the place. Just a good gay bud and really not the tough dominate type at all. Only when he's playing that role. All interesting enough, but where do I find an opening to tell Christian I'm gay. The truth is, I don't want to tell him now. Hell, Christian's going on and on about how I have to be the one to present our folks with grand children and how traumatic it's going to be when Christian tells them about his gayness. And how much everyone depends on me to do the right thing and stuff like that. I need to do a lot more thinking about this whole deal so I put the idea of "coming-out" to Christian on the back burner. It isn't happening on this visit. Too much else to digest.

Christian's getting drunk, but not sloppy or slurring his words. Just tipsy and loose. I thought I was doing pretty well, but I probably wasn't much more sober than Christian. Starting to tell him about Frankie, I describe Frankie as my best friend and that's true, he is my best friend. I don't tell Christian I'm in love with Frankie obviously. My brother's thrilled I actually have a best friend now since I'd never made friends easily in the past. Through most of my teen years I mostly moped around trying to understand Tyler's death, while at the same time dealing with my secret gayness and the constant yearning for gay sex. So, the idea of me making and having a best friend now made Christian happy, he felt it was kind of a positive step for me. Switching topics to give myself time to work-up the courage to ask for the two thousand dollars I need to save Frankie's ass, literally save his ass, I tell Christian about my girlfriend, Pattie, but I need to embellished the relationship Pattie and I have to make it sound somewhat meaningful. Christian's sincerely happy for me and he tells me my life is shaping-up at last. I tell him about the great times I have in the Mini Cooper S he'd given me and he smiles, saying, "The family's always known you were the best of us, Oliver. We all knew it was just a matter of time before you started showing the world what Oliver Nickerson is all about. We've always been proud of you." I know, I know, that's the kind of statement you make when you've had one too many adult beverages. So what, I liked hearing the praise Jack Daniel's induced or not. I make myself another drink too and slipped my best friend's troubles into the conversation while I drink it. I tell about the debt Frankie has with the bookie, Fallon, and about the five percent weekly interest and about the torture done on Frankie to get him to promise to do gay prostituting in order to pay down the money. Actually, I shed a real tear or two reciting Frankie's dangerous position and it's not just the alcohol, it upsets me talking about Frankie being tortured.

Christian got bullshit mad hearing about the torture. I didn't even have to ask for the money, he insisted I take it before I even mentioned it. He took me to his bedroom and showed me a hidden safe and tells me the combination was my birth date so it would be simple for me to remember. If anything ever happened to Christian, car accident or whatever, everything in the safe was mine. He took out two thousand dollars in hundred dollar bills and it doesn't look like much money when he hands it to me. I put it in my satchel feeling positive now that Frankie's safe. Christian says, "Please Oliver, I love you, so please don't ever insult me by mentioning this money again. It's a gift and it's already forgotten by me. You need any money ever, tell me and it's yours." I nod my head and even though I don't want to, I do cry a little when saying thank you to Christian, thinking, 'When hasn't Christian been there for me when I needed him?'. I found out later that most of the money in the safe was from one stupid, drunken night in Las Vegas when Christian had won almost five thousand dollars playing blackjack and then he put the whole thing on number nineteen at the roulette wheel, number nineteen because it's how old I am, and it hit for a thirty-four to one payout, about a hundred and seventy thousand dollars. Guess he isn't going to miss two thousand of it.

Christian got pensive and then told me that his gay friend Glen was a good guy, but that Glen knew guys who weren't good guys. He said there's no way he wants me to know more than that, but maybe Glen could check who in Seattle knows who in Pittsburgh, and just maybe, maybe, mind you, some pay-back for Fallon and his muscle guys can be arranged. "You don't use that kind of force on a teenager, Oliver, not for two fucking thousand dollars." Christian was mad as hell about it. I wondered how Christian knew what kind of force was appropriate for whatever, I certainly have no idea. But boy, I'd love to think that that fat fucks who beat-up and burned Frankie might get the shit kicked out of them someday because of what they did to him. By now we're just your run of the mill drunk guys telling each other what we thought each other wanted to hear, but still not so plastered that we don't know what we were saying. When I get back from taking a three minute piss, my brother had had that time alone to decide what he wanted to talk about next. Christian goes, "If I was sober I'd know not to tell you this next thing I'm going to tell you. You seem to have some situations, some memories, deeply suppressed. It's worked for you so far, but...." I looked over at Christian and think to myself, "We've never had a conversation anywhere near this personal and in your face before in our lives. We always have the you're the greatest, I love you so much, and you're the best brother ever conversations, stuff like that. This made me feel grown-up. Christian's saying, "You've all this shit, all the sex stuff suppressed alright, but maybe it isn't good to suppress those kinds of memories. The thing I'm worried about is you might remember this stuff at the wrong time or for the wrong reason." He lights the last cigarette in his pack and takes a pull on his Jack Daniels, then continues, "So, that's why I'm going to tell you about something now that you also obviously have suppressed. This way, by bringing it out in the open, you and me can talk it out and I can maybe help you resolve it or something. Oliver, I just want to be a help and I hope to Christ I'm doing the right thing here."

Then he stops and it seems like he's changed his mind. Waiting, I opened a new pack of cigarettes and light one. I need another cigarette like I need another hole in my head, but it's something to do while I wait. Finally I said, "Well, what is it, Christian? What the fuck are you talking about, bro? You got me a little apprehensive." He thought about something for a minute longer and then said, "Yeah, I'm going to tell you, but first, for the record our boy Edward is bi, not gay. I know that for a fact. He and I had sex on and off for three years, but he also knocked-up two girls I know of and I know he was screwing around with a couple others. But, that's not what we really care about, is it? Guess I'm just avoiding what I need to say to you." Christian takes a big swallow of bourbon and says, "Fuck it. Here goes, but don't freak out on me. After you caught Edward fucking me, Oliver, he fucked you at least a dozen times during the following two weeks." I yell, "Bull shit!" This is too much! I told Christian he must be on drugs or something because I'd remember if that happened; hell, it would only have been four or five years ago. Christian shrugs and says, "I don't know what to tell ya, Oliver. After you saw him do me you followed him around like a puppy dog begging him to do you too. I finally told him to go ahead and get it over with thinking maybe him fucking you would get you to stop following him around. You'd come to your senses maybe. Didn't work though."

I'm shaking my head slowly back and forth as Christian goes on, "He always screwed you in our garage. You wanted it even more after that first time. Fuck, I had to cover for you with the folks a lot. Your hole was so sore you could hardly walk and one time I told them I'd seen you fall off that expensive bike of yours right on your tail bone. And, oh hell, all kinds of stories. They never guessed the truth. You wanted Edward so bad. He made you say please and he made you suck him off and rim him and all sorts of things before he'd fuck you, and he fucked you rough too. Doggy style, on your back, standing up, whatever he felt like at the moment. He was so obnoxious and such a prick, he had no mercy spanking your bare ass whenever he felt like it too, and he was only sixteen at the time. He's probably worse now." Christian went on to tell me that my infatuation lasted just two weeks and then it was over. I showed no interest in Edward after that. Christian didn't know why I shut it off cold-turkey like that, he felt I'd just decided gay sex wasn't for me. Christian got to whining some about how he and I were Edwards "punks" for a couple of weeks there. Me a year younger than Edward and Christian a couple years older. Edward was pulling the strings, when he gave the word we came running to do his bidding and me begging, "Do me first Edward, do me first, please!". Edward yelling at me to get my clothes off and shut the fuck up.

All through that long dissertation I stared at Christian in disbelief, but why would he make this up? Of course, I knew he wasn't making it up. Christ, Christian was crying through half of the telling. It got me thinking about Edward who's a tall, extremely good looking kid. Always has been as long as I've known him. That dark brown hair with his light complexion and blue eyes. The contrast of blue eyes and dark brown hair is striking enough, but he has handsome facial features too. I tried to remember my feelings for him when I was fifteen, but I couldn't come up with anything. I couldn't come up with a single memory of Edward fucking me either. Then I got a chill down my back with my next thought, I'm wondering why doesn't Christian think I'm gay. Christ, after the sex with Edward, and Christian being gay himself, why wouldn't he think I was? I asked him that and he bluntly said that it was a big worry for him at the time. Mostly because I was so fucked-up in the head about Tyler and my involvement in that whole situation. So, he spent time on line researching the gay thing. From what he'd read, it was mostly my age that started him thinking I probably wasn't gay. It seems that lots of young teens experiment with gay sex. There have been tons of studies done on the subject and he'd seen me experiment with it for a total of two weeks with a sixteen or seventeen year old boy that I'd seen fucking my brother, who I idolized. I experienced doing what my big brother was experiencing, but did it for less than two weeks and then quit it cold. "You did stop then, right Oliver?" I said, "Fuck if I know. I can't even remember having sex with Edward so how could I remember having it with someone else?" I lied. Christian's drunk enough now to tell me everything. He hesitated a few seconds and then told me he knew I was done with it back then. He'd made it his business to check-up on me. He knows it was sneaky and that it violated trust and all that, but he was worried about me. He had followed me for weeks after the Edward affair, especially on my bike rides. He discovered over the weeks that I never even spoke to another boy, let alone had sex with one.

Damn, thinking back I remember how happy I'd been those few times I'd run into Christian during my beloved bike rides. I'd thought it was a nice coincidence back then and it was fun riding with someone, especially with Christian. Now I know that I'd simply caught him spying on me. Then he really shocked me when he told me about the time he was peeking through a transit window at that rest stop I'd go to and he witnessed that young gay guy coming on to me while I was peeing. I'd never told anyone about that rest stop incident. Christian said he'd seen my reaction to the gay guy's attempted pick-up. My hasty retreat had really put Christian's mind at ease about the gay concerns. He stopped following me after that. I'm feeling real tired by now because it's three hours later for me than it is for Christian; my head and body are on east coast time. We rehashed my abrupt end to the Edward affair some more and Christian reiterated his reasons for concluding that I wasn't gay and I'm more than happy to let it go at that. If Christian is happy with that conclusion, so am I. I'll deal with the truth of the Edward affair, whatever it might be, some other time. Christian went to take a leak and I can't help but try remembering something about Edward fucking me. Couldn't get a real memory, but I did remember a dream I had some time ago about me and Edward. Jesus, it kind of scared me that I came up with the dream so easily. But yeah, I'd had this dream about laying on my back on Edward's hairy chest with him reaching around to stroke my boner resulting in me having an enormous climax. It woke me up the night of the dream and I had cum all over my sheets and myself. If that was a real memory playing out as a dream, that means Edward would have had his cock up inside me while I lay on him as he jerked me off. Shuddered at that hot thought, my cock stirs around in my cut-offs again, scratching on the rough jean material so I adjust my dick back inside my underwear. Wow, the thought of Edward fucking me now, not the person, Edward because he's a pompous ass, but the body and face and sexy pretend Edward, that's hot, hairy body or not.

When he is back behind the bar I tell Christian about me remembering the dream. He feels maybe I'd soon remember all of it now that he's told me about it. But, he's still unsure if that will be a good thing or a not so good thing. We talk about it till after eleven o'clock still sipping our drinks and puffing on too many cigarettes. A lapse in the conversation and then Christian mumbles, "I was so jealous that Edward was having sex with the one person in the world I most wanted to have it with. The jealousy almost dominated my life for six months or so. You know, Oliver, after that two week period you two were doing it I could hardly breathe thinking maybe you'd ask me to do you and it confuses me to this day why you never did." That became the topic of conversation. How wildly jealous Christian was that Edward got to fuck me and how I never thought once about asking my brother to experiment with me. He went on and on talking as if it was a current event instead of a five year old bizarre, accidental happening. I had little to say because I had no recollection of the incident and, for that matter, very little recollection of anything that happened to me around that difficult time in my life. Finally Christian was slurring his words when he

goes, "I don't suppose you'd do me the biggest favor ever, Oliver. Let me sleep with you tonight and get this thing off my mind forever. Just this one time. I won't hurt you and maybe it will help with your memory. Remember, we want to try to resolve this thing for you while you're here."

I said, "Ya ya you ya are slur slurring your words, Christian." He wouldn't look at me and was quiet for a whole minute and then in a whiny voice says, "Please, Oliver. I need this so bad. Help me as your brother, not as some gay person. Please Oliver, lots of brothers try having a little sexy fun together. Sure, they usually do it when they're young teens but we missed out on that opportunity because of, you know, Tyler's accident and all. Talking about this stuff all night has me kind of out on a horny limb here. Help me out bro, please." I think to myself, how many times have I said that I'd do anything for Christian, he who has done so many things for me in my tortured early life, and right up to this present time for that matter. Was I kidding myself about doing anything for him? Did I mean, I'd do anything for Christian that I felt like doing? Or, did I mean anything Christian's wanted or needed done? Well, which is it, hot shot? It's easy. I say, "Christian I'd do anything for you. No brother has ever done more than you've done for me all my life. I'll go along with whatever you want." He looks at me with relief on his plain face and I feel a little sorry for him to be honest. The fact he was so needy is a little pathetic. Christian probably doesn't even realize he being a bit pathetic. He's playing with his crotch and wetting his lips with his tongue. Then he asks, "You're sure you want to, Oliver?" That's typical, isn't it? I offer to do the favor for Christian that he sort of begged me to do and he phrases it... "You're sure you want to?" Like it was my idea. Damn, I take pity on him and don't break his balls with that. I just said, "Yeah, I'm sure." Sometimes I forget he's only twenty-three years old and still basically a kid himself; a rich kid, but still a kid trying to find his way in the world. Plus, he's drunk! The thing is, I'm not now nor have I ever been sexually attracted to Christian. I love him to death, I really do, but I never fantasized or ever gave a single thought to having sex of any kind with him. He did absolutely nothing for me sexually. We don't look much alike. I have the hair and eyes he has and now that we're both full grown we have almost identical bodies. We're both five feet nine inches tall, not that tall, and I might even be a quarter inch taller than him actually. He has a better physique than me because he's been working out at a gym for a couple of years and I'm kinda skinny. I've seen him naked many times because we shared a bedroom all through our teens. I know he has hardly any body hair, just like me, although I don't know if he is naturally hairless around his hole; maybe Daddy could check that out and get back to me. We both have very average cocks and balls and I'll even go so far as to say we have identical cocks and balls. Regular guys legs with healthy definition, not much in the way of hair except a little on our calves. Size nine shoe...ha ha ha, you get the idea. We're the same, meaning average guys, although I'm beginning to realize some gay guys seem to think I'm cute. Hee hee, I always thought so too, but no one growing up seemed to agree.

Christian is average looking too, nothing bad and nothing really great. He has a winning smile though and I don't say that to be funny. It's a great smile and has made me feel safe and happy many, many times growing up. My looks, as I just mentioned, I'll just say is a couple of notches up from Christian's due totally to happenstance of genes mixture. Like I've inferred I've been told a few times in the last year that I have a cute face and I'll leave it at that. The point is, I'm not attracted to Christian and I'm not excited about having sex with him, but I'm going to do my best anyway. Maybe I'll learn something; see, I am an optimist. We're done smoking and drinking. He show me my bedroom and I my own bathroom too. Christian says it has never been used. These condos are brand new and no one had been in my room. Nice big king size bed with matching bedroom furniture which probably set him back five thousand dollars; hell, probably more. Posters of The Plain White T's on the walls and The Killers, which is a far superior group. The Plain White T's had one hit although it was a mega hit. There are also framed, blown-up pictures of Christian and me growing up. A blown-up picture of me and Tyler with our arms around each others shoulders looking in each others face with a serious look, which I stare at with my eyes tearing-up. Maybe Tyler will have me tearing-up my whole life.

I go in the black and white tiled bathroom for a quick shower wondering what Christian could have been thinking. I mean, who has a bedroom created for someone who visits for a weekend. Oh well, I'm impressed with it, and flat erred totally. It's nice to be loved. The clear glass shower stall has three separate water nozzles, one on each wall, all with great water pressure. Jesus, what a great shower I have and then brush my teeth twice and that felt great too. When I come out of the bathroom holding a towel at my side Christian is standing there with his short hair still damp from his quick shower. "Okay if we sleep in your bedroom, Oliver?" I'm standing here naked as I nod and mumble, "Sure". I mention to Christian that I'm feeling real nervous and up-tight about this all of a sudden. He 's wearing boxer shorts, but he stepped out of them when he saw I was naked. His pubic hairs are shaved clean making me think of Daddy saying he likes his boys smooth. I also have a quick thought of Frankie and Pete and their barbered pubic patches. It makes my dick move and I like the look of it on Christian. He says, "It will be fine Oliver. Come on and get in bed. How do you like these sheets?" The sheets are black silk and I don't know how I'm going to like them yet, but I smile nervously staring at his shaved crotch and give another one of my fake coughs as we climb in bed.Christian wraps his arms around me as soon as we're under the covers and says, without a trace of slurring now, "I'll always remember this favor you're doing for me, Oliver. Always." So that makes up for this other remark about me, 'Sure I want to do this' like it's my idea. I think, "Good for you, Bro, nice recovery." He gently kissed me on the forehead and rubs the longish hairs on the back of my head. Then a light kiss on my lips which wasn't something new with us because we'd kissed a couple of hundred times in our life already. More kisses and my mouth opened and this is new; French kissing. I'm not aroused, but I not revolted by it either. Christian does his kissing with such passion it's obvious how much he wanted to do this with me. It's not that he's frantic, it's that he's so sincerely intense and loving about it. Almost reverent.

Christian is boned immediately upon entering my mouth with his tongue. His kissing and general make-out, the fondling of my body and the rubbing of his body against me, is very accomplished. He knows what he's doing and soon I do begin to get aroused sexually. I don't pretend it's someone else, like I intended to before we started. I know it's my brother I'm with and I kept that thought in my head and then a totally unexpected thing happened, I realized I want to do this with Christian. I'm not in love with Christian like a lover at all, but I love him deeply like a brother and he needs this. He told me he did and I want to give it to him because he's my brother and I think he needs it, and he's the best brother to me that any one could be. His pleasure at being sexual with me is actually palpable and I wonder how long he's wanted to do this with me, but controlled his urges. That I can provide him with this degree of pleasure is pretty much a my turn-on point for me. I want to increase his pleasure by giving back what he 's giving me so I kiss him back, then a long kiss and Christian mutters, "Thank you, Oliver. I love you so." and we kiss until my boner is as hard as Christians. He moves his head down slightly to kiss and suck on my neck and then my chest and my nipples, kissing and sucking and licking; it's as if he were worshiping my skinny body. Oh my God, my brother is getting me hot and groveling for more. He spends a lot of time licking and sucking my belly just above my pubic hair and then long licks soaking my pubes before lapping my hard nuts and then under them to my hole. Christian does long wet laps along my crack and over my hole for maybe five minutes. Then he pushes his tongue in and out of my hole and I've never been so squirmy and squealie with shivers running constantly around my whole body. I'm moaning and blowing air out between clenched teeth, muttering, "Ahh, ohh, please ohh, Ahh oh"...

One stroke on my boner would be all I need to have an orgasm,but I don't want to do that because this sensation I'm experiencing is so different it's actually bordering on being unpleasant because, with my cock so hard and dripping, it seem I'm on the border of the pleasure/torture dilemma of to cum or not to cum, almost but not quite, then I'm cuming and then oh no I'm not; it's like that. Maybe it's because I'm having sex with my brother, but in any case just when I know I'm going to climax, Christian somehow knows that too and he takes my cock in his mouth and sucks me off in less than a minute. My hand are in his short hair rubbing his head and the back of his neck. All the time I'm saying over and over to myself, "My brother, my brother, oh um ahhh ahhh". It's so different, but kind of special too, doing this with Christian and why it never had occurred to me to do it with him before is a mystery to me; probably because we're brothers. Shooting off my spunk in Christians mouth has me bouncing on the big king size bed with Christian holding onto my hips tightly so my cock stays in his mouth. He sucks every drop of cum out of my nuts and then shares a little of my cum with me through a tender kiss. His boner's very wet and hard as it presses against my belly. He holds me until I stop shivering and moaning. Then asks, "Was that good for you, Oliver?" and I'm like, "Ohhh ahhh", breathing heavily and enjoying being held and loved.

When he can tell I'm fine he hands me a condom and asks me to roll it on his boner, which I do with after affects of my orgasm sizzling around my groin. I can feel his cock pulsating as I roll the condom on it; it grows fatter with my touch too. I'm anxious now to have him inside me, anxious to see if there's a different sensation because it's him inside me. It's hard to describe the unique and special way I feel about doing this sex act with my brother; hard to describe to myself I mean. And, could it be that Christian would choose me over anyone else in the world to do this with; that's sort of the how he's making me feel, or am I projecting? Licking my lips now, then biting them, and then licking them some more. Christian has me so hot to be fucked, it has to be obvious to him by now that this was turning me on and probable obvious to him I'm gay too. And, I didn't care because this sex with me seems to be very important to Christian and, as it's turning out to be for me too. My brother fucking me, the brother who's taken care of me all my life and who I've idolized forever; that is so hot! Christian takes his time entering me with us spooned together in that big bed. He pays a lot of attention to making it pleasurable for me, rubbing and massaging different parts of me to compensate for any discomfort I might feel as his cock splits my anus lips and enters my body; brothers tethered together. I haven't experienced any real pain from his boner, just a few moments of discomfort in the early stages of getting his swollen cock head past my sphincter muscle. He maintains a soothing string of sounds and words of praise and encouragement making me feel important and so special and such a treasure in his life that's so loving I'm glowing and moaning little quiet sounds of pleasure as he's pushing his boner deeper and deeper into me.

"All the way in now, Oliver" he say so softly I can hardly hear him. "This should feel good for both of us, Oliver, because the rectum contains many sensitive pleasure points, especially the prostate." I go, "Mmmmm," as he slowly pulls back and just as slowly pushes his boner back up my ass and of course it feels good. I read where some can't stand having a cock in their ass and then there are other like me who find it the most erotic thing in life. As he fucks me steadily now I become impatient with how slowly he's humping me and begin pushing back on Christians impossibly hard boner trying to get it further up my hole. He quietly chuckles at my efforts and gives me a long, loving kiss on the side of my face. "I'll never love anyone as much as I love you, Oliver," as he picks up the speed of his penetrations. I go, "Ohhh Christian, this does feel so good, can you do it harder," Christian murmurs, "Oh Oliver, I'm so relieved you're enjoying this," and starts slamming his cock up my ass, fucking me fast and hard and it's awesome. Our bodies are perfect matches, carbon copies almost. He holds me around my waist, both of us on our side, and fucks me almost in a frenzy. He fucks with drops of sweat flicking off his forehead bouncing off the back of my neck while his cock pounds in and out of my hole. I'd cum in Christian's mouth not fifteen minutes ago but with this fucking my brother's giving me cum is working it's way up from my nuts again. I'm moving my head back and forth bumping Christians nose at the back of my head. He finally grunts, "Oh fuck!" as he's shooting a hard cum stream into the condom. I can't feel it, but his desperate sounds leave no doubt that he's climaxing. He's slamming his groin against my buttocks, grunting, "Fuck, oh fuck. Ahgg ahh ahh...oh my God, Oliver" and then he sighs and humps me slowly now, breathing deeply and doing quiet moans as his body and brain absorb the wonderful sensations of climax, sensations I enjoyed a little while ago. More deep breathing from Christian and some more sighs as he ceases fucking me, but he leaves his cock up inside me as he hugs my body tightly.

As he was climaxing, I'd shot out three fat drops of cum myself although it felt like more. This was as good as anyone's fucked me before, but getting fucked by your brother is different, unique because of the lifetime of memories leading up to this. I can't compare it to being fucked by someone I'm in love with though because it's unique, in a strange special way. Christian continues hugging me tightly while gently kissing all around the side of my face and neck. "I'd like to eat you with a spoon, you're so delicious, Oliver. I knew we'd make great love together, Oliver; you know, brotherly love. Right?" Feeling odd, I mumble, "Right, Christian. You made me feel special, but then you always have" He quietly says, "I swear to God you're even more special that I thought you were, and that's really saying something."

to be continued.... Chapter 11 (More Christian and Me)

Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com

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