Two Reunited Brothers
 by: Hankster

© 2022 by the author

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

hankster@tickiestories.us

My name is Ezra Buchanan.  My brother and I grew up in a very nice neighborhood in Brooklyn, NY.   Sam is a year older than I am, so he graduated high school a year before me.  The day after his graduation, he disappeared without a warning to anyone.  He just took off; no explanation, no excuse, no anything.  He did leave a short note informing us that he was going out west, and we never heard from him again.  He left me and my parents devastated.  I always considered us to be best friends, and I didn’t take his desertion very well.

I graduated high school a year later, and went on to Brooklyn College, where I earned a degree in education.  I now teach algebra and geometry in a local high school.  Unlike my brother, I never left the old neighborhood.  Although my parents have retired and moved to Florida, I still occupy their old apartment.  It’s very affordable, and it’s near my high school.  It has two bedrooms, two baths, a large eat in kitchen, plus a dining room, living room, and very ample closet space.  I’m still single and the apartment is bigger than I need, but like I said, it’s home.  I just maintain the apartment simply because I’m too lazy to move.

One Saturday morning, about twelve years after Sam disappeared, I was enjoying a lazy sleep-in.  It was mid-morning when I was ready to start the day, I shaved and showered, and put on a robe to cover my nakedness.  I was busy making myself French toast for brunch, when my doorbell rang.  I tightened the belt on my robe and went to answer the door.

“Who can that be?” I mumbled to myself.

I live in a very good and relatively safe neighborhood, so I thought nothing of opening the door without asking who it was.  I figured it was a neighbor.  It wasn’t.  I did not recognize the man standing there.

He was about my height, but he looked malnourished.  He badly needed a shave, and I got a whiff of him.  He needed a shower also.  He was very disheveled.  His clothes were filthy and definitely needed laundering.

“May I help you I asked?”

“The man looked even sadder, and he asked,” Izzy, don’t you recognize me?”

Nobody had called me Izzy since I was a kid.

“No,” I answered, “I don’t recognize you.  Who are you?”

The man began to sob.  “I’m Sam,” he cried.

I pulled him into the apartment, and closed the door.  We looked at each other for a few seconds, and then embraced in one hell of a bone crusher.  Neither one of us wanted to let go.  I wanted to kiss him, but he smelled like a sewer.  I was naked under my robe.  My cock was rubbing against him, and I was beginning to get an erection, so I pulled away before I would embarrass myself.

“What happened to you?” I finally asked.

“Could I have something to eat?” he actually begged, “and I’ll tell you all about it.”

“I just started making French toast for a late breakfast,” I said.  “I’ll give it to you, and make another batch for myself.”

I sat Sam at the kitchen table, and laid out the French toast with butter and maple syrup.  I cracked open a couple of eggs to make some more for me.  Sam began to eat like he hadn’t eaten in a month, and I suspected that he hadn’t.  I didn’t expect him to start talking with his mouth full, so I didn’t push him to tell me what he had been up to the past twelve years.  In the meantime I put up the coffee.

When I felt that he had satisfied his hunger, I asked indelicately, “What the hell happened to you?”

“I felt stifled in Brooklyn.  I wanted to get out and explore the world,” he began.

“But why disappear without a word?  Do you know how much anguish you caused us?  I was so hurt.”

“I was afraid you’d all try to talk me out of it.  I wanted to avoid all that shit.”

“Speaking of shit,” I said, “you look like shit.  What happened?”

“I had saved a little nest egg from part time jobs, and I flew to Los Angeles.  I got a job as a barback in a popular restaurant, and I worked my way up to bartender.  I was happy and doing well, but unfortunately the bar was a gay bar.  One evening one of the fags came onto me.  He started really hassling me.  I asked him to leave me alone, but he wouldn’t.  Finally, I came out from behind the bar, and I flattened him.  He hit his head on the tile floor, and I accidently sent him to the special place in hell where all fairies go.  I was given ten years for involuntary man slaughter, but I got out in seven.  I was an ex-con now.  I couldn’t get a job, and I was homeless.  As soon as I finished my parole period, I hitch-hiked back east, and here I am.  Please Izzy, help me.  Give me a place to stay until I find work and get on my feet.  Please!”

I was shocked.  I loved my brother, but I couldn’t believe how homophobic he was.  He left me speechless, until he asked again, “Will you help me, Izzy?”

“Maybe,” I answered cryptically.  “Here’s what I want you to do first.  Our old bedroom is now my guest room.  You can use it.  Let’s go there now, and I’ll give you an outfit to wear.  I want you to shower off all the crud that’s on you.  Everything you’ll need is in the guest bathroom, but I’ll have to give you a disposable razor.  When you’re ready, get dressed, and come into the living room.  We have to talk.  I’ll let you stay with me.  In fact, I want you to, because I still love you, but there are conditions.”

“What are they?” Sam asked.  He sounded apprehensive.

“Clean up,” I commanded him, and then we’ll talk.

While he was showering, I took the opportunity to get dressed also.  He was seated in the living room even before I got there.  He was very thin, but he was his former handsome self.  He badly needed a haircut.  It could wait until after the weekend.

“Let’s go into the kitchen,” I said.  “We can have a more intimate chat at the kitchen table.”

We sat down, and Sam asked, “So, what are your conditions?”

“I don’t approve of your homophobic rhetoric. I’m gay Sam.”

Sam stared at me blankly.  Finally, he said,” You’re shitting me, aren’t you?”

“I’m not shitting you.  I am gay.  Good looking guys will be in and out of the house, and my first condition is that you will make yourself scarce when I entertain, and don’t you dare judge me.”

“Of course, I’ll judge you, you queer,” he literally spat out.  “You hugged me, you hugged me hard.  I thought I felt you were getting an erection.  Now I know that I was right.  How dare you rub your cock against me?  I feel filthy all over again.”

“You’re going to judge me, you bastard?” I asked him.  My voice was screeching.  “Look at you.  You’re pathetic.  You’re in your thirties, and you have no job, no home, and the only one in the world who loves you, is your faggot brother.  Get out of my house if I’m such an abomination to you.”

“Even though I have nowhere to go, I don’t know if I can live with a queer,” Sam said.  “I’ve got to think about it.”

“Well, while you’re thinking about it, let me tell you my other conditions, you low life.  You’ll suck my dick whenever I ask you to, and I’ll fuck you whenever I want to.”

“Why would you want me to do those horrendous things?  That’s disgusting,” Sam wailed.

“I want you to do all those wonderful things for me, because I love you, you idiot.  I’ve always loved you.  Even when you deserted me, I still loved you.  I’m asking you to love me back, not to do anything horrible.  If you loved me even a little, you’d want to do all that with me.  You wouldn’t find it horrific at all.  You’d find it beautiful.  My intention is to give you pleasure, not to harm you in any way.”

“Izzy, I can’t do what you want.  Please don’t force me, and please don’t kick me out.  I have no place to go, and no home to go to.”

“I’ll give you one chance,” I said.  “Sleep with me tonight, and if you don’t make love with me, I want you out of my house first thing in the morning.  If you don’t leave, I’ll call the police and tell them that you’re an intruder, and I can’t get rid of you.”

Sam began to cry bitterly, and he ran to my guest room.  He closed the door, fell on the bed, and cried.  He couldn’t stop crying.”

I wasn’t about to go easy on him.  I went into the guest room, and sat on the bed.  “Why do you hate gays so much?” I asked, “and why do you hate me?”

Sam caught his breath, and said, “When I worked in the gay bar, those fairies hit on me all the time.  They were relentless, and I couldn’t get them to stop until I floored the kid I killed.  Now, my faggot brother, as you yourself put it, is hitting on me also.”

“I’m not hitting on you, and I’m not forcing anything on you.  It’s your choice.  You owe me.”

“I’ll pay you back when I get on my feet,” Sam promised.

“That’s not what you owe me for,” I said.  “I want someone to love, someone who will love me back, and want to spend his life with me.  Because you’re the only one I have ever loved, I haven’t been able to love anybody else.  Loving you so strongly has stood in my way to finding true happiness.  I’m not getting any younger, you know.”

I stood up, and left his bedroom abruptly.  He stayed sequestered in his room all day.  He didn’t even come out for dinner.  I waited until it was way beyond my bedtime, and I too went to my bedroom.  I had just climbed into my bed, when Sam came into my room.  He was naked, and he crawled under my blanket.  He was still crying.  I felt bad for him, so I put one arm around his shoulder and pulled him to me.

“Relax,” I said.  “We don’t have to do anything tonight.  Just hold me close and cuddle with me.  We can fuck tomorrow.”

Sam somehow did relax, and he stopped crying.  When he was completely calmed down, he whispered in my ear, “I was raped in prison.  Please don’t hurt me.”

“Sam, rest assured, I’ll never hurt you.  I love you.  I intend to make you very happy. Certainly, I’d never rape you.  When I fuck you, I’ll prepare you properly, and you’ll love it.”

He chose not to protest anymore, so we wrapped up in each other’s arms.  We didn’t make love, but I rested a hand on his cock.  His body seemed to spasm for a second, but then he relaxed a little.

“It does feel nice,” he said.

Well, it was a beginning.

When I woke up in the morning, we were still holding each other tightly.  My hand was still on his cock, but now he had a morning woodie, and I started to stroke it.  I could tell that he wasn’t going to last long.  His balls were shrinking, and he was having trouble breathing.

Suddenly, he yelled, “Please don’t stop, Izzy.  Don’t stop.”

I kept going, and he came all over my hand and his abdomen.  Last night was a first step.  This morning, the journey had begun.

“I guess I’d better shower again,” he said.

“How’d you like to shower with me?” I asked.  I figured I might as well be bold.  I didn’t want him to think that I was relenting on my threat to evict him.  After all, he hadn’t even touched me yet.

“Thanks for asking,” he said, “but I can do it myself.”

“Sure you can, but it’s a lot more fun when someone does it for you, especially your back.”

“I’d really rather not,” he said.”

I jumped out of bed, and yelled louder than I had intended.  “You didn’t make love to me last night, but I didn’t kick you out this morning.  I figured we were off to a good start just by sleeping together.  I realize that you’ve had a lot of lousy experiences with gays, so let me propose something that won’t be so offensive to you.”

Poor Sam!  He looked so despondent.  Finally, he lowered his eyes.  It was as if he couldn’t look at me.  “Okay,” he whispered, “What’s that?”

“Go to a gay bar with me tonight.  It’ll be different on the other side of the counter.  I’ll introduce you to my friends, and you’ll see that we aren’t any different than straight guys, just because we choose to sleep with a person of our own sex.”

“I could do that,” he agreed.  “Besides, I wouldn’t mind a strong drink to fortify myself, especially if you’re buying.”

I smiled to let him know how pleased I was.  He smiled back.  I could tell that he wanted to tell me something, but he couldn’t find the words.

At last, he said, “I love you, Izzy.  I gotta confess I loved hugging you yesterday, even after I found out that you were gay.  I guess, I over reacted.  After all, I spent seven years in the cooler because of a gay predator.  I can’t forget that.  Promise me that you won’t let anyone hit on me tonight.”

“I promise.  Can I hug you now?” I asked.  I was holding back tears.

Sam answered my question by embracing me.  Then he whispered in my ear, “It’s okay to shower with me now, but behave yourself, and do my back.”

“No problem,” I assured him.  I hugged him harder.  “Thanks for coming back into my life,” I mumbled.  I kept my promise in the shower, but it almost killed me not to fondle him.

At the bar that night, I had trouble getting rid of the first friend that I introduced Sam to. 

“Geez,” he said.  “I didn’t even know you had a brother.  It’s great to meet you, Sam.”  He extended his arm for Sam to shake, but Sam ignored it.  He wasn’t about to shake a faggot’s hand. 

“Sam’s visiting me from Los Angeles,” I tried to offer an explanation.

“He’s gorgeous,” Frank said, “but get him a haircut.  Doesn’t anyone cut their hair in L.A.?”

After that little incident, things went much better.  My buddies were extra friendly to my visitor and included him in all their chatter.  Sam was on his third scotch and soda, and that helped him relax also.  I believe he forgot my friends were fags, and he seemed to be enjoying himself.  He must have been, because when I suggested leaving, he begged to stay a little longer.  I was so happy about that, I did stay longer.

When we got home, I could see how happy Sam was to be back in his childhood environment.  For the first time since he arrived, I saw a sparkle in his eyes.

“I suppose you’ll want me to sleep with you again.”

“Yes, I want that very much.” 

He could tell that I wasn’t forcing him.  As he climbed naked under my top sheet, he said, “Please don’t fuck me.  The pain I suffered when that guy raped me was unbearable.”

“Sam,” I said, “when someone enters you in love, and prepares you properly, there’s no pain at all.  You’ll have so much pleasure, you’ll beg for more.  In fact, why don’t we do this?  I’ll give you a blow job tonight, but stop before you cum.  Then I’ll prepare to receive you, and you can fuck me.  You’ll see that there’s a big difference between making love and getting raped.”

Sam didn’t answer right away.  Finally, he said, “I can live with that.”

“Thank you,” I said, and I meant it.  “There’s one thing more I’d like to do, and believe it or not, it’s the hardest thing for a straight man to do.”

“What’s that?”

“Kiss me, Sam.”

He turned away from me, so I took his chin in my hand and turned it back to me.  I placed my lips on his, but I didn’t open them.  He began to return my kiss so I opened my mouth, and forced his lips open with my tongue.  At first, he lay as still as a dead man, but as my tongue snaked into his mouth, and began to tickle his tongue, he began to react, and soon he was kissing me passionately.

I got brave and started to stroke his cock.  It was very, very limp, but as I stroked it, and tickled it, he finally began to erect.  I leaned over him, and took him into me.  He didn’t balk.  What man, straight or gay, could resist a blow job?

I felt his whole body relax, and I heard him wail, “Oh Gawd.”

He must have been very love starved, because his balls started to shrink after only a very few strokes.  I stopped sucking his cock immediately.

“Please don’t stop,” he wailed.

“Patience Sammy,” I said.  “I’ve got better things for you.” 

I reached into the top drawer of my bedside table and pulled out a box of condoms and a new tube of lube.  I didn’t want to ask him (yet) to lube and stretch my ass, so I did it myself.  He stared at me, and to my surprise, he didn’t gross out.  In fact, he watched intently.

“When I do this to you, and get you ready to receive me,” I said, “I’ll add rimming and a trip around the world.  You’ll love it.”

This time he remained silent.

When I had inserted three fingers and had done a good job of stretching myself, I handed him the condoms and lube.  I asked him to put on a condom, and lube it generously.  Again I was pleasantly surprised.  He was still hard.  I was on my back with a pillow under my ass.  I raised my butt and spread my cheeks.

“Now,” I said, “enter me as slowly as you can.”

Sam lined his cock up to my crack, and started to enter me as I had instructed.  He and I have big cocks, but he entered me easily.

“I think I’m all the way in,” he said

“Don’t move,” I told him.  “Try to enjoy the moment.”

“Did I hurt you?” he asked.

“Not at all.  You made me feel fantastic.”

I got surprise after surprise.  Sam looked into my eyes, and said, “It feels wonderful, Izzy.  I can’t hold back.  I’m cumming.” 

He started to fuck me as he would have fucked a women, and it didn’t take long for him to cum inside of me.  He couldn’t move, and he was trying desperately to catch his breath.  It seemed an eternity before he got off me.  He removed the condom, and threw it on the floor.  I guess he didn’t want to get out of bed.

“Are you okay?” I asked.  I was afraid to hear the answer.

“Never better,” he answered me.  “You didn’t cum.  Would you like to do that to me?”

“Who says I didn’t cum. Look,” I pointed at my abdomen which was coated with my juices.”

“How? When?” he asked in bewilderment.

“Men have a little sex organ in their asses.  It proves to me that God intended us to be homosexual.”

“How come I didn’t know that?” he wondered.

“Stick with me, kid.  I’ll give you quite a sex education.”

“It’s way too late tonight, but tomorrow is Sunday.  l promise to fuck you in the morning.  In the meantime, let’s get some sleep.”

We turned toward each other and kissed passionately.  “I love you too,” he whispered in my ear.

Sam turned on his side, and I nested against him with my cock resting sedately against his crack.

The next morning, he was not yet awake when I began to give him a trip around the world.  He didn’t try to stop me.  My trip included sucking all his toes and rimming his crack.  I also spent a good deal of time greasing his ass, and stretching it to receive me.

While I was doing that, he was whimpering and begging me not to fuck him.

“You’ve got to honor your end of the bargain,” I insisted.

“I know, and I will,” he said, giving into me.

His asshole was very ready for me when I finally did the deed.  I fucked him doggie style.  I believed that I would give him the least amount of pain that way.  I entered slowly, and he began to scream in agony.

“If you relax,” I advised him, “it won’t hurt as much.  Besides, I promise you, the pain will ease, and you’ll be in sexual heaven.”

Once I passed his sphincter, he finally did relax, and I could tell that he wasn’t in pain any longer.  I started to stroke, and I knew that I was rubbing his prostate because he began to gyrate his hips and mewl.

He came again, just before I did.

“Wow,” he said.  “That was something else.”

We got up, showered together, and I took him out for Sunday brunch.  We never mentioned our encounter the entire day, but I knew that Sam was still unhappy.

That evening we went back to the bar.  It was a work night, and so it wasn’t nearly as busy as it was on Saturday night.  Fewer of my friends were there as well.  At some point, I went to speak to the manager.  After our conversation, I took Sam outside, where it wasn’t as noisy, and we could talk.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“How’d you like to tend bar in this joint?  It would be different than the bar in L.A.  People know who you are, and we can spread the word that your taken.  Any flirting you get will be innocent.”

“I like it here,” he answered.  “I like the people.  They’re my home town folks.  I know it’ll be different.  I’d love to work here.”

Good,” I said.  I smiled at Sam and embraced him.

“Come,” I said.  “I’ll introduce you to the manager, and you can discuss the details.”

When we got home that night, Sam was changed.  He was happy and relaxed.  He didn’t ask me if I wanted to sleep with him.  He just slipped into my bed.

“I need to clarify something,” he said.

“Sure, go ahead,”

He cleared his head, and began.  “I love you Ezra.”  I guess he finally realized that everyone called me Ezra, not Izzy.  “I’ll make love with you anytime we’re able, but I’m straight. What we’re doing together, I can do with you, but with nobody else.  I want you to know that I need a woman in my life.  I’ll be actively looking for one, not only for sex, but perhaps to marry me.”

He was crying a little, so I wiped the tears off his cheeks. 

“I know,” I said.  “I couldn’t make you gay, any more than you can make me straight.  I only lashed out at you like I did, because you had hurt me, and I was subconsciously taking revenge.  If you want to sleep in your own room tonight, I’m okay with it.”

“You don’t listen good,” he said.  “I told you that the only man in the world I could make love with was you.”

Sam rolled on top of me, and whispered in my ear, “Let’s make love little brother.”

I obeyed him, and we made wild and passionate love all night.  I couldn’t be happier.  Not only was I reunited with my brother, but my dream came true.

I was able to hold the love of my life in my arms.

Posted: 04/15/2022