THE BROTHERHOOD REDUX: by Mobius
Necessary Disclaimers: * This story is fiction; none of characters represent any persons in real life and none of the events described actually happened, at least to my direct knowledge. * This story describes sexual activity between youths under the age of 18. Do not read if these themes offend you, or if due to your age or region of residence, it is illegal for you to do so. * Nifty preserved my original story for over two decades, so their service is more than worth your donation to keep the archive running. Please donate at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html * (c)1997,2021 Mobius Loop w/ permission for Nifty Archive Alliance.
Chapter 3 -- SECRETS
It was the first day of school in the 1982-83 school year at Riverside High School. I was incredibly busy all day with administrative meetings and scheduling for tests of new students who might have some problems. By the time I got home, I was too tired to make a real dinner. I called Dominos and ordered a pizza.
I sat down in the recliner chain in my living room and opened my briefcase. I pulled out the notebook that had been slipped under my door. I wasn't sure why it had been given to me. Could it have been Jason again, using this journal as a way of communicating with me about his problems? I wasn't sure. I felt uncomfortable. I wasn't sure if I should read it.
On the other hand, Jason's letter practically indoctrinated me into this mysterious secret society called the Brotherhood. With one boy selected from each class to continue this special clique through their high school life, if everyone was trustworthy, then it would protect the members and make it safe for them to sexually play, experiment, and find some fulfillment in the midst of a repressive, fearful society. Later that very month, the CDC would first officially use the acronym AIDS as a label of a growing epidemic sweeping through the gay community. So, these were fearful times, indeed.
Part of me was intrigued and impressed that high school kids came up with this. I couldn't figure out if there was anything psychologically damaging about it. I supposed such a group was a last resort to find safety and support. Also, according to Jason, the jury was still out on whether any of the previous members had continued a gay lifestyle after graduation.
I appreciated the risk Jason was taking with me. While I was a professional, he couldn't have really known how accepting I might be. At work, I had to play it pretty conservative to meet with the standards of the high school. I felt honored to protect his secrets.
I opened the cover of the notebook and flipped through some pages. There were many dated entries, and just some stories. I stopped on one page entitled SECRETS and began to read the entry:
I can't forget the meeting on July 8th. We hadn't been able to get together because Kyle had been with his folks visiting family in Arizona for the Fourth of July holiday. But, after a lot of patient anticipation, we were able to meet at Scott's house the day after Kyle came back. The reunion was sweet. One of the first things Kyle did was give us a huge kiss. Apparently, he had a lot of pent-up frustrations and didn't really explain why.
Anyway, Scott's parents, who were Unitarian Universalist ministers, were at a convention during those few days, which was lucky for us. Otherwise, we would have had to wait another week until my parents were out of town to visit my aunt Martha. We spent hours in his bedroom... the physical pleasure itself left us delirious. The four of us have incredibly good chemistry together, and I think we were all in anxious denial about Kyle leaving for college in a few weeks.
At around nine o'clock, we were all taking a breather. Jason was sitting up against the headboard of the king-sized bed and had Scott lying back against him, his arms wrapped around Scott's chest. I had Kyle laying on his stomach, facing the foot of the bed while I was straddled him, rubbing his back and shoulders. I couldn't believe that he was still tense after two really incredible sessions together.
"I really can't believe how much I miss us when we're not together," Kyle had said, his head resting on his folded arms. I put a dollop of skin lotion on his back and continued to rub it in.
"You are really tense," I commented. "Is something wrong, Kyle?"
He remained silent, but groaned occasionally as I worked my hands into the skin of his shoulders.
"Todd, aren't your hands tired after working on all that meat?" Jason asked me. "That's a football player there... a brick house quarterback." I laughed, but part of what he said was true. My hands were starting to ache.
"Man," Kyle said, looking around, "this is the first time we've met in your house, Scott. You have a nice place here."
"Thanks," Scott smiled, Jason's hands gently playing with his nipples. "My parents don't get out much, but when they do... well, let's just say that I go a bit crazy when they're not around."
"Oh really," Jason said, nuzzling his lips into Scott's ear, "What have you done when your parents are away?"
I looked over at Scott, who was smiling as if he was looking back on something in his past and remembering it fondly. Very fondly.
"Have I ever told you about the first time I ever had sex with a boy?" he asked.
Even Kyle propped himself up to look back at Scott, his interest clearly piqued. We had never gotten into our individual pasts. For the most part, with the exception of Jason, we generally knew about how each of us grew up. For heaven's sake, we all went to kindergarten together! So, finding out that Scott had a sexual past beyond the Brotherhood was intriguing.
"Tell us," I said. "I really want to know how you lost your virginity."
"No shit," Kyle smiled. "I thought we broke you in."
"No, never," Scott beamed in reminiscence. Then he began his story...
*** Since I was eight, my parents would send me for two weeks to a Unitarian Universalist summer camp in Gingsborough. I loved camp. I met a lot of great people there. We were like a family, because every year we saw each other get older and got to share the lives we had led the rest of the year.
I remember when I was eleven, I had this incredible crush on Willow Summers, who was thirteen. We had known each other for years, and this year I really paid her a lot of attention. I wanted to see her naked and I would have given my right arm to do some heavy petting. See, sex at camp was nothing. Everyone was doing it secretly. That's the UUs for you -- pretty liberal families where the parents weren't ashamed at talking to their kids about the ways of the world.
Anyhow, after the first week, I really thought I was going to get into her shorts. Oh God, I was so nervous, but I was really excited. That Saturday night, I had planned to take her down to the boathouse after evening campfire and see where things went.
Well, I made the plans with her and after the campfire ended at 10 o'clock, I snuck my way over to the boathouse, let myself in, and waited. And I waited and I waited and I waited. There I was with a stiffy from thinking about all of the things I was going to do, and I was left hanging.
After an hour of waiting, I figured I'd head back to the cabin and turn in. I was pissed and annoyed and horny as hell. As I'm walking back up the path from the boathouse, the batteries in my flashlight go out. So, I figure I'm in deep shit, because the trail is kind of steep and if I take a wrong step, I'll fall down and kill myself.
I'm standing in the dark, looking up at some of the lights at the top of the hill, and stumbling around trying to get back up. Suddenly, I hear something back towards the edge of the lake. I freeze, thinking it's a bear or something, trying to figure out what it is. The sound stops, too.
Great, I'm going to be some bears dinner or get mauled by a deer. I continued to stumble my way up the path until I smell something weird. It smelled like burning cow manure, or something. I stopped to figure out the smell, wafting up from down near the lake shore.
I hear something moving again.
"Is there anyone there?" I ask. I say this just so to make myself feel better and hear something other than the unknown. Suddenly, out of nowhere, this flashlight beam hits me in the face and blinds me.
"Who is that?" came a male voice from the flashlight beam. The voice sounded familiar.
"It's Scott Reardon." I say, taking a step forward, trying to shield my eyes from his light.
"Scott? Hey, get your ass over here before we're caught, you moron!" he hissed at me. I walked forward, but because he hadn't taken the light out of my eyes, I misjudged the step of the trail embankment and fell into a tangle of shrubbery. I cried out, because I realized I had twisted my ankle really badly and couldn't put any weight on it.
"Shut up! You want to get us both busted for being out cabin after 11?" he hissed.
"You asshole," I hissed back at him, "You and your fucking flashlight just made me twist my ankle. I can't fucking walk!"
I watch as the flashlight started coming towards me and suddenly Paul Marsh, one of the older campers from the 15 through 17 cabins, comes up to me.
"Is it really bad?" he whispered, looking at my leg.
"It will be okay, I just need to rest it," I said trying to massage my ankle. Suddenly, he bends over and starts picking me up. Supporting my weight, he helps me hobble over to the lake shore where he had holed himself up behind a bunch of fallen trees. There, the smell I had noticed was really strong.
"What the hell is that smell?" I asked as he put me down on a tree stump. He lengthened my leg out and put it up on a log nearby.
"It's pot," he said. "You want some?"
Thus, his anxiety about being caught. I had never tried it, but I figured that he owed me after making me twist my ankle. I took this small pipe and inhaled. I really didn't like the taste of it so much, but after a puff, I felt a little more relaxed.
"How the hell did you sneak that in?" I asked him.
"I hid it in the lining of my sleeping bag," he laughed softly. He looked at me trying to rub my ankle again and asked, "Is it painful?"
"No shit, Sherlock," I replied. I was kind of pissed off. He got up off the ground and came over near my foot and kneeled down. Reaching over, he puts his hands on my ankle and started massaging it.
"Sshhh, keep it down, will ya?" he asked. We sat in silence for a while as he massaged my ankle and calf. I had known Paul for a few years, but we never socialized. There wasn't a lot of socializing between the age groups at camp. In fact, they set up a lot of cabin competition, which was arranged by age. But I had played on volleyball teams with him and he was alright. A little aggressive on the playing field, but alright.
"I'm sorry about the flashlight," he whispered. "What were you doing down there at the boathouse, anyway?" I figured we had shared his secret pot, so why not tell him.
"I was waiting for Willow Summers."
I could see a broad smile of his face, "You mad dog, you. Willow Summers, huh? She's really sexy for her age. But I'm not surprised she didn't show."
I thought he was commenting on me. You see, I was still kind of insecure because back then, I was a little overweight and had a little bit of a belly. This made me self-conscious.
"Why the hell not?" I asked indignantly.
"Because I hear that she and Lenny Stevens have been messing around behind the shower house for the past two nights," he said. My mouth hit the ground. She led me on and was screwing around with Lenny, a 17 year old.
"I can't believe it," I moaned. The pain flared in my ankle and I winced. Paul saw my reaction and changed how he was rubbing my ankle. His hands were massaging more of my calf than my ankle.
"Don't take it so personally," he said. "She's the kind that wants the older boy, because she wants to show off to her friends. You're what? Ten? Eleven?"
"Eleven!" I retored.
"And you're probably not even got a lot of hair down there, not speaking of dick," he continued. "Hell, when I was your age, I was only two inches long. Today, I'm fifteen and have about eight."
"Right, Paul," I said.
"Seriously," he whispered. Suddenly, he stopped rubbing my calf and stood up. He undid his shorts in a second and dropped them. Slipping his fingers underneath the elastic of his briefs, he pulled them down. Taking a second, me flicked the flashlight on himself. There he was, standing exposed before me with a cut eight inch dick and a pretty hefty sack. I was pretty impressed, because all of the dicks I had seen were little puny 10- and 11-year-old penises.
In the moonlight, he slipped his hand under it and sort of held it out for me to see. I tried not to look at it, but I was fascinated. There in the moonlight, I noticed the thickness of it, the shape of his cockhead, how shiny it looked. I could smell a strong scent of summer sweat and boy musk coming from the bush of brown pubic hair adorning his crotch.
Not bothering to hike up his shorts, he flicked off the light, sat down again on the grass and continued to rub my leg. My eyes followed his cock as it fell into the shadows of the grass.
"See?" he said, "I don't lie. But what do you have... a little two incher with no hair? That's not what Willow wants."
I started to feel really strange. First of all, I was really worked up about Willow and had a weeks' worth of pent-up horniness. Secondly, here was Paul showing me his eight-inch dick and practically baiting me to debate the size of mine. Thirdly, I was getting turned on, as his hands continued to move up my leg as he was rubbing it. By the time he had finished talking about Willow, his hand was already rubbing my bare thigh, and getting closer to my crotch every moment.
I didn't really know what was going on, and I really was only guessing at what Paul was about. But I kind of just went with it. "I do not have two inches, I have three," I replied.
"Oh really?" he said. "You kids have two inches until your twelve, then you start growing."
"You are so full of shit," I said. With that, I leaned back a bit, opened my shorts and after slipping my briefs down a bit, pulled out my three-inch cock. I held it out for him to see, not backing down from the dare that he was putting up. Yeah, it was still small and thin, but I was growing some pale short hairs in.
I noticed that he quickly lost the cocky look in his eyes and he suddenly had an expression that was a lot more serious. As I glanced down, I noticed that his own cock was starting to get thick and hard, coming up out of the shadows.
"You getting turned on, Paul?" I asked him mockingly. He gave a quick anxious laugh.
"The pot makes me horny," he said in a low voice. I could tell that his kidding had quickly been put aside. But as we shared that awkward moment of silence, my little cock started to grow, too. It wasn't large, but it ended up jutting right out from me, pointing towards Paul.
"You getting turned on, Scott?" he repeated to me in the same tone I used on him.
"It must be the pot," I replied to him. I could tell that Paul was nervous about something, because I could feel him trying to deal with the awkward silence that was building. But through those moments, nobody reached to tuck their dick in.
Finally, he looked to my leg as a distraction, "How's it feeling now?"
"Better."
"D-d-d-do you want me to st-t-top rubbing?" he stuttered quietly.
"What do you want to do, Paul?" I was starting to get antsy about this pregnant pause between our statements. He seemed to lean in closer to me, and spoke even quieter to the point I was barely able to hear him.
"I w-w-was thinking that.... I know how disappointed you must feel about Willow, a-a-and how much you were looking forward to it. So, I was thinking that .... perhaps.... we.... c-c-could d-do each other a f-f-favor."
I really thought his nervous stuttering was funny, but I also found it cute at the same time. I could tell that he seemed to be trembling a little, as if the nervousness was really doing a number on him. This must have been incredibly hard for him to propose.
In that second, I just felt like I was so incredibly alive. I could feel the blood pulsing in my ears, and my chest thumping with my anxiety. Without a word, I reached down and picked up his hand off of my thigh and placed it right on my bare dick.
The moment he touched me, I could feel him shudder with relief. His fingers gently explored my cock, moving up the smooth shaft to the firm pink head. His touch was electricity, and I had to put my arms out to steady myself on the log. His fingers then moved back to the base and carefully slipped underneath, enfolding them around my small peach-fuzzed sack. His hand just continued its slow explorations, but he was limited because I still had my shorts on.
"Paul," I said quickly, "help me take off my shoes." He needed no time to think. Quickly, he was pulling off my right shoe as I gently undid the left one from the side of my sore ankle. Once off, we both together pulled my shorts and briefs from my body. He fumbled a bit as he pulled them off around my ankle, and I was stung with pain. He saw me wince and looked so guilty about it. He whispered he was sorry.
With my shorts off, I widened my legs a little and he sat up closer to me, putting his warm hand back onto my crotch. He was able to cup my scrotum and rub it with his fingers. I had to support myself again for fear of falling back, and as my breathing started to deepen, I noticed that he was completely silent. I couldn't even hear him breathing.
He was enraptured touching me. His fingers moved back and forth on my stiff cock. Suddenly, he had the brainchild of actually curling his fingers around it and pulling them slowly forward, as if he were milking it. I loved the touch. He did this for a few minutes, eliciting a few deep breaths out of me.
I knew that he wanted permission to go further. I wasn't about to deny him. I reached out with one hand and grabbed the back of his head. He looked at me as I pulled him forward. I could see his anxiety melt away. Closing his eyes, he slipped his fingers away and pursed his lips around my dick.
In a second, he had sucked in my entire length. Because I was small, I fit well in his mouth. But the sensation was so incredible, I almost fell back because I hadn't been able to put my hand back to support me. I could feel his hot saliva and his tongue eagerly slipping its way along the shaft and around the glans. His mouth was so hot. I was practically panting now.
He pulled back, letting my cock slip out slowly until only his lips were clamped around my tip, and then pulled it back into his mouth again. He started this slowly at first, but as the moments passed, he was doing it faster. I was overwhelmed with sensation and thought I was going to pass out. As I started to build to climax, he was moving up and down on my cock so quickly that you could hear the saliva churning in his mouth.
"Paul," I panted. "I'm going to...." but before I could finish the sentence, he stopped cold. Releasing my hard wet cock from his mouth, he looked up at me plaintively.
"Scott, would you do something for me?"
"What?"
"Will you fuck me?"
I had never done that, but I had heard about it. I was quite sure I didn't want to be on the receiving end, but I'd heard from some older teens that its tighter than a girl's pussy. I nodded in agreement. He turned around and I tried to stand. My foot wasn't taking the weight well, so I leaned back against the wall of fallen tree logs, propping my weak ankle out. Paul quickly dropped his shorts to his ankles, bent over and held his ass up to me. It was kind of weird seeing it at first, but I lost self-consciousness as I put my hands on his cheeks and gently opened them. I pressed my finger against his anus, causing him to moan out. I gently tried to move myself until the tip of my cock was pressing up against it. It felt hot against my dick.
But as I tried to put it in, it wouldn't budge. The size was certainly not a problem, but then I realized that there wasn't enough lubrication.
"Paul, your spit job on my dick ain't helping me here. Do you have any lube?"
I could hear him curse, but then just as quickly he turned around and faced me. This was kind of risky for him, because he was tall enough standing up that you could see him from the path if you were looking.
"I know where we can get some," he breathed. With that, he took one of my hands and brought it to his large, throbbing cock. I fell in love with the feel of it at the first moment. I had felt my own hard cock many times, but this was so different. Thicker, longer, with a different shape. The head was thicker, jutting out like a knob on the end of his shaft. Mine was more streamlined.
I gripped it firmly, feeling the blood pulsing in it. He gasped. I let my fingers roam all over it. Finally, I got in a rhythm. After spitting in my hand a few times, I cupped his glans in the palm of my hand, curled my fingers around, and started rubbing. His dick was smooth, and the added slickness of my saliva made my hand slide everywhere. I could feel the cooling wetness of my spit on my wrist as I tried to rub his cockhead around in my fingers.
He didn't have too far to go. Pretty soon, he was gasping heavily and I took it as a sign that he was going to cum. I held out my other hand as a little cup at the end of his cock. Finally, I felt the hard spasms in my slick hand and large gobs of hot white semen gushed from his dick. I caught most of it in my hand.
"Oh Jesus," he sighed, coming down from his orgasm. "Quick, now. Slick my ass with it and rub it on your dick." He turned again and bent over, holding himself up by grabbing a low tree branch. I let the wet cream dribble from my fingers onto his puckered ass, and then onto my cock. It had started to go limp, but rubbing it in cooling semen brought it right up again.
I lined up my dick to ass again, his cum making us shine in the glow of moonlight. This time, it started to slide right in. Ohh, the feeling of his tight, hot ass on my cock was intense. This had to have been better than little Willow. Paul moaned.
"You are so hot," he whispered. "Put the rest in and start fucking me. I need it."
As I pushed it more of my small hard cock, I felt his hole clamp down on my dick. I was blasted with an incredible pulse of sensation. Pushing it in was harder, because he was keeping his sphincter locked on my boydick.
"Ohh, Paul. You have such a tight asshole. It feels so good," I sighed at him. His muscles twitched and I was able to slip the rest of myself inside.
"Okay, now pump it in and out," he eagerly begged. I pulled out slightly, but then overestimated and my penis came out entirely. Without wasting a second, I slipped only my cockhead into him. I held it there for a moment, and then slowly, almost tortuously, slipped it all the way in again.
As I started to pull out, Paul tightened his sphincter again. It began to milk me better than his sucking mouth. We went on like that... slipping it in smoothly and then having to pull it out with is ass clamped around me. I was getting dizzy it was so good. At no time in my history of masturbation had anything come close to fucking Paul's tight ass.
We sped up. The both of us were breathing really heavy now, and people anywhere near the path would have been able to trace us. We didn't care. I reached around and started tugging on his half-hard dick again. Within a few strokes, it was fully back to life, filling my fingers and making it impossible for me to close my fist around it. But I pumped it as best I could with my dick plunging in and out of his ass.
Suddenly, I felt my insides start to quiver. I wasn't ejaculating yet at that age, but sparks of lightning seem to explode up from my dick into my stomach and my ass clenched. I swore I could see flashes of light as I spasmed. I continued to fuck him slowly, as the feeling slowly edged back.
As my orgasm started to lessen, I felt his sphincter clamp down on my dick again as he gasped really loud. In my hand, I felt his cock start to jump and then my fingers were running over with sticky gobs of semen. It was thick, and I loved the feel of it running through my fingers. I pumped his dick a few more times, slippery with his own cum, and milked him for a few more spurts. Then his puckering ass hole relaxed and I was able to slip my softening cock out.
I leaned back fully against the trees as he leaned forward on the tree branch. Both of us were breathing heavily. As the breathing got quieter, we noticed all of the night noises... the crickets, the birds, the water of the lake. It was incredible.
"Are you okay?" he finally said. He turned around and looked at me, flashing me a gratified smile. I nodded, breathing through my satisfied grin. I held up my right hand to him and showed him the glistening coat of cum that gloved my hand, laughing. He walked over to me, held my hand, and ran his tongue across my palm. When he had finished, I put two fingers in my mouth and sucked them clean. It was slimy against my tongue, but I swallowed the salty glue anyway. I would have to acquire a taste for that.
"C'mere," he said, walking toward me. With that, he simply wrapped his arms around me and gave me a hug. He was strong, but it was more like an embrace.
As we got dressed, he told me everything. He had started to do mess around with boys last winter with his friends. They were getting into ass fucking, but he was worried because they all had huge dicks, not necessarily long but thick. He didn't want to go through the pain, but didn't want to be left out, either. He wanted to have a smaller cock fuck him first so he could loosen up for his friends. When he came to camp, he eyed me. He never thought anything would happen, but he wanted to be with me just the same because I was younger, I was certainly of the age, and because my dick would be perfect. He was so completely shocked that we had bumped into each other that he didn't know what to do. That's why he had started stuttering in his nervousness.
When we were re-dressed and ready, he helped me back up the path to my cabin with my sore ankle and said goodnight. The next day, I told counsellors I had fallen when on my way to the bathrooms. I also gave Willow the cold shoulder for the rest of the week.
We got together every night after 11 down by the boathouse. I finally got to try his dick in my mouth. It was too big for me to do a good job on, but after a lot of licking and sucking his cockhead, he finally came. I loved putting my nose into his ball sack and smelling his hot sweaty body after a day of activity. He went down on me several times, saying he loved the silky feel of my smaller cock in his mouth as he gave me dry cums. Once, he even tried to fuck me, but I was so small and he was so much larger than he was only able to get his glans in comfortably. And on the last night, we actually tried kissing... something we both felt reserved about. But we ended up Frenching for a good fifteen minutes.
We both left at the end of the week. The following year, he was really happy to see me and we were friends, but he didn't want us to fuck anymore. During the year, he and his friends stopped their fooling around when everyone got girlfriends. Now he was going out with some girl... Diane. But, one night he pulled me aside and told me that he missed me, and that Diane had never been able to make him cum the way I had.
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