My Exhibitionist Straight Brother - Chapter 15
buddy’s last day in New York
by Andrew J
by Andrew J
Disclaimer: This story is pure fiction. If you are not 18 or older, please leave immediately. Do not continue reading. Also, if gay male sex isn't your thing, you might want to stop here. Otherwise, I hope you have a great time!
Feedback, comments, thoughts, criticism are all welcome. Post a comment on this story on my blog , or e-mail me directly at andrewbjo@yahoo.com
“So, I don’t know what you told Luke when you took him out to that movie yesterday, but he’s crazy about you,” Tom said, as we walked down 8th Avenue, hand in hand.
“Really?” I asked.
“Yeah! I talked to him this morning. All he can talk about is you, and how cool you are. And now he wants to go to college in Madison!” Tom laughed. “The kid hasn’t been out of New York in his life! You’ve become his hero!”
Wow. I was Tom’s little brother’s hero? I’ve never been anyone’s hero in my life.
“And he wants to move to Chicago. Thanks to you, he thinks New York sucks.” We both laughed at that. Tom leaned in, holding me closer to him. “You’re my hero too, you know,” he whispered in my ear.
I reached over and kissed him on the cheek. I was consciously trying not to think of tomorrow, or what would happen with Tom and me after I returned to Chicago. It was terribly selfish of me, but I honestly I had no idea what I wanted. Every time Tom looked at me with his sad, I-need-to-talk eyes, I turned away, averting any attempt at talk about our relationship or our future.
Tom’s cell phone started ringing.
“Hi, Jen!” he said, letting go of my hand and instantly perking up. Jen launched into a long, self-centered monologue the moment he answered the phone.
“Yellow, definitely. Orange is done, besides it’s too hard to co-ordinate with anything,” Tom said, in response to something. Then added, “I’m positive, Jen. Trust me.”
I frowned at Tom. Did Jen always have to be a part of everything we did?
“Listen, I gotta go. K2 has that look on his face. Bye!” Tom said, laughing, and putting his phone back in his pocket.
“Do you have to talk to her every 5 minutes?” I asked, “And do you guys have to use codenames for me and Dan? What the hell is K2 anyways?”
“Never mind,” Tom said, smiling smugly. “Jen was at Macy’s and needed some advice on something.” Then, noticing I was still frowning, he astutely changed the topic. “What store to next?”
We continued shopping for underwear and clothes for Dan. I wanted to make sure he’d be the best dressed guy in Manhattan. And it didn’t hurt that the clothes I bought him would fit me too.
When Dan got home that evening, I showed him all the stuff I bought for him. He was like a kid at Christmas, and loved everything I’d picked out for him. I bought two each of several of the shirts, one for Dan and one for me, so we could dress identically.
“Keep it,” he said when I handed him back his credit card. “Use it for school expenses and stuff when you get back to Chicago. Don’t be asking mom and dad for money anymore.”
I slid it back into my wallet, gratefully, wondering what I’d done to deserve Dan.
Dinner was wonderful. We all got dressed up. Dan and I wore new, identical shirts. Jen was dressed with impeccable style, as always, and Tom looked more handsome than ever. It felt like the first time the four of us went out to dinner together. That seemed like a lifetime ago, even though it had only been 2 weeks. This is my family, I thought, looking around the table.
Even Jen was nice to me. The iceberg was finally thawing. I didn’t expect we’d ever be best friends, but I was really beginning to like her. She still rarely spoke to me, and I resented how she sucked up every bit of Dan and Tom’s attention, but she was what Dan wanted, and Dan’s happiness was more important to me than anything else.
During dessert, Jen handed me a little gift-wrapped box. She wouldn’t see me again before my flight tomorrow morning, and said it was a good-bye gift.
I eagerly opened it, and found a really nice wristwatch – a Fossil, with a yellow faceplate. I beamed as I put it on, effusively thanking her. It was beautiful. My favorite brand and my favorite color. How could she have known? In fact, how did she know I needed a new watch?
“I knew he’d love it,” Tom said, winking at Jen.
Good-bye presents. The butterflies in my stomach started flitting around again. No amount of expensive wine at dinner could stop them.
After Jen left us, Dan, Tom and I went to a bar nearby where we had a few drinks. We played a few games of pool until we figured out how good Tom was. He could beat both Dan and me with his eyes closed. Dan was a surprisingly good sport about it… considering how competitive he got with his other buddies.
By the time we got back to our apartment, all three of us were happily drunk. I felt a little sorry for Dan that Jen wasn’t with us. It was Friday night and he wouldn’t get laid.
“Buddy!” Dan called from the bathroom. I could hear the steady stream of his piss as he stood in front of the toilet, relieving himself. He still had all his clothes on, and was swaying slightly on his feet.
I stood behind him and hugged him, holding him steady. That was all he needed. When he finished peeing, I flushed the toilet, and led him to the bed. Tom and I clumsily undressed him, got out of our own clothes, and we all fell onto the bed. Almost instantly, Tom and I started making out.
“You guys go ahead. I don’t want to take away from your night together. ” Dan said, slurring his words slightly. My big brother then lay back on his side of the bed, and closed his eyes.
Tom was more passionate than I’d ever seen him before. There was a desperate urgency in the way he held me, and in his kisses. I love you, I’ll miss you, I want you to be a part of my life and my future. And I’m afraid to think of life without you, they said. Words I wouldn’t let him say out loud.
I returned his kisses with an equal passion. In just a few hours I would be on a flight back to Chicago, and, thanks to my own unwillingness to discuss it, the future of our relationship was completely up in the air. I love you too, Tom. And I’ll miss you like crazy. And I’m sorry for being unable to talk about us.
Our hands clutched at our bodies as we tumbled over each other, clinging on to whatever part of each other’s flesh we could. Long threads of Tom’s precum dribbled from the tip of his erect dick to me… my thighs, my chest, my abs… wherever his dick touched me. My own cock was erect and pulsing.
I was in a peculiar state of arousal, one which combined lust, melancholy, and anxiety for the future. I felt a deep, empty feeling in my gut, where the butterflies were flitting around in full force. What if Tom was indeed the love of my life, and I never saw him again? All of a sudden, I was overwhelmed with fear.
I felt Dan’s hand on my back.
“You OK, buddy?”
I’m not sure, Dan. I leaned back towards him in response to his question. Dan moved in closer, and held me from behind, as I continued making love to Tom.
Being inside the zone of comfort that Dan’s touch provided made me feel better almost instantly. My fear and anxiety slowly started to dissolve, and the butterflies settled down. I knew everything would be fine as long as Dan was there for me. I started relaxing into Dan’s embrace as I felt Tom’s body pressed up against my front.
Sensing that I felt better now that Dan was holding me, Tom’s lovemaking doubled in intensity. He moved in closer, kissing me even more fervently than before.
Then, Dan did something strange. He moved back slightly and started exploring my body with his hands. They roamed all over me… my shoulders, my back, my ass, everywhere he could reach without disturbing Tom’s & my embrace.
Despite the intensely erotic effect Dan’s touch was having on me, I wasn’t sure what it meant. He had never done this before. It didn’t feel particularly lustful (as I imagine his touching Jen would feel). Rather, it felt like he was exploring my body out of curiosity and intrigue, as though he wanted to know how I felt while Tom was making love to me. I welcomed this notion - that Dan wanted to enter, and be a part of, that very private space I shared with Tom. It made me feel stronger and more complete inside, and heightened my already very intense state of sexual arousal.
Tom moved in even closer, gripping my body close to his as his tongue wrestled my own inside my mouth. My rigid cock was pointing straight up, aligned alongside Tom’s. I could feel the sensitive skin of Tom’s scrotum pressed against mine. We were both throbbing at full force, and my precum was mixing with Tom’s and generously coating both of our cocks.
When Tom noticed Dan caressing me, and the intense emotional and sexual effect it was having on me, he slightly loosened his embrace. This gave my big bro fuller access to my body. Tom looked at me with such love I could have melted on the spot. Then, still holding me, Tom turned me around, giving Dan full access to the front of my body.
Now facing my big brother, I watched as he continued exploring my body. As Tom kissed me and massaged my back and shoulders from behind, both of Dan’s hands roamed all over the front of my body… every inch of it… my face, my shoulders, my chest, my abs. I shuddered every time his fingers passed over my nipples. He felt my inner thighs, my balls, my pubic area, where the hair was trimmed very short, and my cock. Delicately, yet meticulously, he touched my private parts, cupping my balls in his hand, holding my cock in his fist, and lightly tickling me all over.
My cock stood outward and up at full attention. Dan’s body, and specifically his cock, was a few inches away from mine. I looked down to see that while he wasn’t erect, he wasn’t flaccid either. He reached down and took hold of my right thigh with both his hands, guiding it up so my right leg rested on his side. This gave Tom free access to my asshole and perineum from behind. It didn’t take long before I felt a warm, wet coating of Tom’s precum all over my sensitive area below.
Then, Dan drew me close to him. He held me up against his own body, so my face was right up against his, my nipples were mashed against his, and my cock stood rigidly up against his abs. I stared at my big brother helplessly, like a deer caught in headlights.
Holding me this way, Dan said, “Tom, fuck my baby bro.” I felt his breath on my cheek.
Almost instantly, I felt Tom’s hard cock enter my willing hole and he moaned upon first entry. I deeply inhaled as my insides adjusted to the warm, familiar feel of Tom’s cock. My inhale was filled with Dan’s musky scent. I closed my eyes and started relaxing into the feeling of being fucked by Tom.
It was an intense moment. My front was in full physical contact with Dan’s, as my boyfriend fucked me from behind. I felt completely open and exposed to my big brother. And I felt safe. As Tom fucked me, I stared into Dan’s eyes, and there I saw more love, more protectiveness, and more dominance over me than any words could possibly express.
Tom’s rhythm picked up, little by little, until he was fucking me furiously. I could tell from the way Dan looked over my shoulder that Tom, as he fucked me, was staring straight into Dan’s eyes.
“Let go, guys.” Dan said to us.
And we did.
With one last thrust deep inside me, Tom came with full force. He held me from behind tightly as his jizz filled me. He let out a loud moan with each shot of cum. My eyes squeezed shut as my own orgasm arrived at the same instant. I shot my load between myself and Dan, who was still holding me tightly. The space between our stomachs began to feel wet and sticky, as I unloaded my cum, shuddering and moaning, sandwiched between my boyfriend and my big brother.
As our orgasms subsided, we continued to lay together in post-orgasmic bliss. Tom was still breathing heavily, holding me tighly from behind. I could feel his breath on my neck, and his torso was covered with sweat. Dan was still holding me from the front, and I could feel my cum between us beginning to liquefy and dribble onto the sheets.
Held by the two most important men in my life, I felt safer, more surrounded by love and more protected than I’d ever felt before. This would be a moment my mind would save and eventually recall often, in years to come. As I was unconsciously memorizing the feels, sights, and sounds around me, I was overcome with waves of joy and gratitude surging deep within me. For Tom, for Dan, for myself, for our lives, and mostly, just for having had that moment in time.
I’m not sure how long I had been crying. Or dozing, or floating in the bliss of the moment the three of us had just shared. When Dan let go of me, it was late, and I could hear Tom’s light snoring behind me. Dan reached over and turned out the light on the nightstand.
Then, kissing my forehead, my big brother said, “Get some sleep, buddy boy. You’ve got a plane to catch in a few hours.”
My Exhibitionist Straight Brother - Chapter 16 The Year in Chicago
My big bro and my boyfriend both saw me off at the airport. When I finally had to go through security, Dan gave me a final hug and told me to “knock ‘em dead at Northwestern”. Tom didn’t say anything. He was too busy blinking back his tears and trying not to look sad. Silly boy. Even I managed to hold back my tears until I boarded the plane.
The next couple of weeks were a blur. I’d given myself an extra week for advance prep and to get some reading done but it wasn’t enough. I was entering what was reputedly the hardest quarter of the program, and desperately wanted to do well. I dived head first into my schoolwork, trying not to think of the amazing weeks I’d just spent in New York. Of course, this wasn’t always possible.
To say I missed my big brother would be inaccurate- Dan was too much a part of me to miss. Rather, I felt his absence was like a huge vacuum deep inside me. This was the way it had always been, right from when I was young. I just somehow felt less complete when he wasn’t around. Even so, we didn’t bother communicating through phone calls or email when we were apart. It seemed pointless.
My boyfriend, however, was completely different story. I missed Tom desperately. I missed his smile, I missed his smell, and I missed his touch. I missed the way he held me in his vice-like embrace at night, and I missed the way his eyes twinkled when called me hotstuff. We spent hours on the phone with each other, sometimes saying nothing but just listening to the static of the connection between us. I looked forward to the good-morning text messages he sent me every morning at around 10 AM his time (which was 4 hours after I’d gotten up).
“So hotstuff, I’ve been thinking…” Tom said on a phone conversation about two weeks after my return.
“What’s up, Tom?” I was rushing off to school, but recognized that certain tone of his voice which meant he had something important to say.
“So, you don’t have to answer right away, but, well, I’ve lived in New York all my life, and, umm… I kinda miss you, and well, I have some money saved up, and thought maybe Chicago would be a nice change for a bit. I know we only met a month ago and it’s way too early for…I mean you don’t have to be responsible for me or…”
Two weeks later, Tom had moved into my apartment in Chicago.
It was a blessing to have Tom at my side. Not just because I missed him and loved him, but also because he took wonderful care of me. I had little time for anything except my schoolwork. He took care of the apartment, did the chores, made sure I was always fed, and sat up with me late at night when I was working. He found a job working at a coffee shop near campus, and eventually found work as a massage therapist.
Tom had a knack for befriending people very quickly, and he was adored by all my classmates and friends. Our apartment soon became a popular hangout, where people dropped by to study or collaborate on projects, or just to socialize. Tom always made sure there was food, coffee, and alcohol on hand.
Through Tom, I got to stay connected with New York. Jen and Tom kept in constant touch with each other, and through them, I got to hear about what Dan was up to. Also, Tom talked to his mom at least once a week. She insisted on talking to me every time they talked. I found this very endearing, especially considering my parents never called me.
One weekend, just before Thanksgiving, I took Tom up to Madison to meet my parents. My expectations of our reception were very low, so I wasn’t disappointed when Dad wasn’t home. Mom was very friendly, but still uncomfortable. Tom found Madison a very charming city, which, admittedly, it is, in a small, college-town sort of way. We left after a visit to the University campus bookstore where we bought a Badgers’ t-shirt for Luke.
I was too busy with schoolwork in December to even think about the holidays. We got two very nice invitations for Christmas… one from Tom’s mother, who wanted us to spend Christmas with ‘the whole family’ in Brooklyn. The other was from Jen, inviting us to spend Christmas in the Hamptons with her and Dan at her parents’ place. Tom would have loved either, but we couldn’t afford it, and besides, I had too much schoolwork to do. When I spoke to my mom, she seemed almost relieved that I would be too busy to come home to Madison for Christmas. I figured I’d save my parents the worry of having to deal with ‘my guest’.
So, Tom and I spent our very first Christmas together in Chicago. We got a small tree and invited some of our friends over for dinner, mostly the international students who, like us, couldn’t go home. We also received a very nice package from New York, with presents from “Jen and Dan” (in Jen’s handwriting). Two matching sweaters, chocolates, and gift certificates to several clothing stores in Chicago. Jen knew how much Tom loved shopping for clothing, and he was overjoyed. And, if Jen and Tom were happy, I suppose so were Dan and I. Tom and I both laughed at the thought of Dan being dragged around by Jen to do Christmas shopping.
Winters in Chicago are cold and dreary. Given the cold weather, and our general lack of funds, Tom and I spent most of our time in our apartment. On Sunday afternoons, my friends would stop by and we’d sit around and talk about school work or some interesting article in the WSJ or the Economist. Tom would sit back and listen, not the least bit intimidated or uneasy being around my group of loud, super-charged, and often obnoxious friends. In fact, he would invariably invite everyone to stay for dinner, and would make enough spaghetti (or something equally simple) for the whole gang.
Soon, this became a weekly ritual at our apartment. Tom would cook on Sundays, and our friends would show up with wine or more food. We all loved him for this, as it gave us all a sense of family and belonging, smoothing the edges of what was a generally very competitive program. I was also touched at how he had recreated one of his own family traditions in our home.
“So, hotstuff,” Tom began shyly, on one Sunday night while we were cleaning up. “Hanging out with you and all your friends and stuff has got me thinking. I think I’m gonna go back to school when we’re back in New York. Take a few classes, see if I can pick up where I left off.”
I was thrilled. I threw my arms around him and told him I loved him, and that I’d support him every bit of the way. And I meant it.
Yep, that’s right. In case you missed it: I told Tom I loved him. Finally. Out loud. “I love you, Tom.” And it felt right. It felt perfect, in fact.
The thing about the “L” word, I quickly learned, is that once you start using it, you can’t stop. Nor do you ever want to. It took me all this time to say it, but after the first time, I couldn’t say it enough. I told him I loved him 20 times a day. In person, over the phone, through text messages, I even traced it out in my food when I could. And amazingly, he never got tired of hearing it.
The spring quarter signals the onset of serious job-searching. Those of my classmates who hadn’t found jobs yet (myself included), all eagerly vied for the same positions with the top corporations that wooed us. I was firmly set on moving back to New York, and wanted to work in international finance, so was very focused in my job search.
Being as I was near the top of my graduating class (and, I must say, I interviewed well), I was more relaxed about the job search than most of my friends. So, as Tom and I attended celebratory dinners and parties as my classmates got placed with top firms in Silicon Valley, Europe and Asia, I just sat back. This worried Tom a bit, because he was afraid I might not find a job in New York and that we would have to move elsewhere. He worried too much. We both knew wild horses couldn’t keep me away from New York.
I called Tom the moment I was made the offer. It was mid-April, and I had landed a job as an analyst with an international securities firm in Manhattan. I’d gotten my dream job, and we’d be moving back home for sure. We were both delirious.
His eyes bulged when he saw how much I’d be making. “You can afford anything you want with that salary…” he said, beaming with pride at me.
No, you silly man, WE can afford anything WE want.
The moment my coursework was completed, I felt exhausted. Elated, drained, delirious and emptied, all at the same time. I was so wired I couldn’t sleep. Tom suggested we take a short vacation to unwind.
A 3-day road trip through my home state was all it took to recharge and return to normalcy. Wisconsin is beautiful in the late spring. Tom was amazed at the vast, green expanses of farmland that sped by as we drove to Milwaukee, and then up to Green Bay. We drank beer all along the way, and yes, stopped to at every cheese place on the way. Tom insisted.
From Green Bay we drove west, through Eau Claire to Menomonie, where we paid a visit to one of my favorite relatives. Aunt Sarah was my 70 year-old great aunt, who taught at the University of Wisconsin, Stout. She was a professor of Family Studies, and had taught there all here life, back from when they still called it ‘Home Economics’. She was overjoyed to see us, and welcomed my ‘charming New York friend’ with open arms.
On the way home we stopped in Madison for a day. We dropped in on my parents, and I told them about my imminent graduation, and about the new job I’d accepted in New York. They seemed excited for me, and said they’d attend my convocation.
“Hotstuff?” Tom said as we were on the last leg of our trip, “I think we should move to Wisconsin after a few years. I love it here. It’s so peaceful and beautiful.”
A trip back here in February will cure you of that, I chuckled to myself.
I was thrilled when I found out Dan and Jen were flying in from New York for my graduation ceremony. Tom had a lot to do with this. I wasn’t really expecting Dan, but between Tom and Jen, they made sure we were all together on the most important day of my life.
Mom and dad drove in from Madison the morning of the ceremony, and took us all out to lunch. Dad seemed genuinely happy for me, and was friendly towards Tom. It was my parents’ first time meeting Jen too, and they were both impressed. Who wouldn’t be, I thought. She was beautiful, charming, and her eyes sparkled every time she looked at Dan. You could even go as far as to say that both Dan and I got the parental seal of approval in the choice of our mates.
Tom was by far the proudest man in the auditorium. He knew most of my classmates and their spouses, and went around taking pictures, and eagerly congratulating everyone. He couldn’t sit still.
I was overcome with a sense of pride as I stood in line, in my cap, gown and hood emblazoned with Northwestern’s colors. I recognized that moment in time as one that was special, and would stay with me all my life. In the audience were Dan and Tom, the two men who loved me more than anything, and who would continue to love me no matter what. Also in the audience were my father and my mother, whose approval had meant so much to me all these years, and in many ways still did.
And I had made them all proud of me. Me. The little guy from Madison, Wisconsin. At the top of the world. I had finally come into my own. Become a man. Of course, I would only find words for all this much later. At that moment, all I could feel was my chest swelling with pride, joy and a sense of completeness, as they called my name
“Stuart James Ross, Master of Business Administration….”
As I was given my degree, amid the wild applause of all my crazy classmates and friends, I distinctly recognized the applause and shouts (and in Dan and Tom’s case, the frantic whistling) coming from where the five most important people in my life were seated.
It’s okay if you cry at your own graduation, right?
Dan and Jen stayed in Chicago for an extra two days. Jen and Tom talked and giggled and gossiped and shopped for the entire time, leaving my big bro and me mostly to ourselves.
On the afternoon before their flight back to New York, Dan handed me a set of keys.
“So, buddy, we landed an apartment in that that building I showed you. We’re moving in at the end of the month. You and me, and -” Dan motioned towards Tom and Jen, who were busy chattering away between themselves, oblivious to the world around them, “- anyone else who cares to join us.”
We both laughed, rolling our eyes.
A week later, Tom and I loaded up my car and set off for New York.
I am happy, I thought to myself, as the Chicago skyline receded behind us. Tom put his arm around my shoulder, and reached over to kiss me. I was in love with a man who loved me back. I was embarking on the career of my dreams. And I would be joining my big brother Dan for good. The future looked brighter than ever.
If happiness is about the present, and if ever after is about how the future looks from where you’re standing, then I suppose this story has a fairy-tale ending. We lived happily ever after.
Feedback, comments, thoughts, criticism are all welcome. It’s always a pleasure to hear from readers.
Post a comment on this story on my blog at http://andrewjonline.blogspot.com , or e-mail me directly at andrewbjo@yahoo.com , Or IM me on Yahoo IM at andrewbjo.
Thanks!
-- Andrew J
