The Brotherhood

THE FOLLOWING MATERIAL IS NOT INTENDED FOR YOUNG AUDIENCES. THIS IS ONLY APPROPRIATE FOR ADULT AUDIENCES. IF YOU ARE NOT OF LEGAL AGE TO READ THIS MATERIAL, THEN YOU SHOULD LEAVE THIS NEWSGROUP NOW. -- Mobius

THE BROTHERHOOD: by Mobius Chapter 6: The Final Secret

Suddenly, I am distracted from the Brotherhood Journal as the telephone begins to ring, shattering the intense stillness of my apartment. I had been captivated by the ongoing stories of the members of the Brotherhood and their shared first time experiences with boys. Now, almost an hour after I got my pizza, the telephone brought me out of my captured reverie.

I picked up the receiver, "Hello."

"Is this Charles Bradley?" It was a womans voice, very familiar. I was racking my brain to figure out who it was.

"Yes. Who is this?"

"I'm sorry," she laughed, "this is Donna Fairchild. We met today in the Superintendant's office. I'm the new guidance counselor over at the Riverview Middle School."

"Of course," I replied. We had met for an all-school special needs support meeting that afternoon. She was a lovely woman from California, just hired three weeks ago. She had moved here with her 12 year old son. "What can I do for you, Donna?"

"Well, I hope I'm not calling too late," she said.

"That's okay," I said looking down at the notebook in my lap. "Just reading some material for the school."

"Anything I might know about?"

I paused, "I doubt it."

"I suppose I should stop beating around the bush," she confessed. "I was calling to see if maybe you and I could set up a special needs transition plan between the middle school and the high school. We don't really have one. I came up with it on the drive home, and got so excited that I had to call and tell you this evening."

I thought about her idea. There was a lack of transition for special needs students between the middle school and the high school, and an integrated effort by both of our offices could really help a lot of students with scholastic and personal problems.

"I think that's a great idea," I said. "We should start writing up a proposal for the next all- schools counselors meeting."

"That's coming up in three weeks," she said. "Are you free for lunch on Thursday? We could meet and start hammering out the plans."

I was already pulling out my schedule planner. Thursday lunchtime was free.

"I'm completely free," I said. "It's a date."

"That's fabulous," she laughed. "I guess I'll see you on Thursday. Can we meet at the Riverbank Cafe'?"

"That's fine," I said. "Thanks for calling, Donna."

"Goodnight," she said. The receiver clicked and the dial tone came back. I rested the receiver back on the cradle of the phone. Promptly, I opened the notebook again and noticed that the Secrets section had only a few more pages left. I found my place and continued.

The entire room was in dead silence. It was now obvious why Kyle had come back from Arizona so distracted, so tense. He was blaming himself for what had happened to his cousin, beaten into a coma, and then died from the injuries. I rolled over on the bed, turning around to face him as he stradled me, his hands no longer massaging my back but covering his eyes. Scott looked really cautious, uncertain what to say next. Jason looked really spooked, his eyes looking away into some far off place.

"Hey," I said softly, putting my hand on his leg, "Kyle. You can't think that way."

"Todd's right," Scott added. "People don't turn gay because of a one-time sexual encounter. You can't blame yourself for your cousin for being gay. That was his choice."

"I just can't help thinking...." he said softly, "I can't help thinking that if I hadn't deliberately seduced him, he wouldn't have known, wouldn't have stayed there that night to have sex with his friend, wouldn't have been beaten up, would still be alive today."

"Kyle," Scott sympathetically, "the majority of men, maybe 80%, is heterosexual. All of the sex studies show that 95% of men have had at least one homosexual encounter. If gay sex turned people gay, wouldn't there be a lot of gay men running around today?"

"Look at Scott," I added. "He and that Gregg kid had sex every night for a week. Gregg ended up straight."

"And look at Todd," Scott continued. "If Anthony hadn't come onto him that night in the locker room, would he be here with us today? Anthony opened up new parts of Todd's life that he hadn't known about, but things that he found were good and natural for him."

"Absolutely," I agreed. "So, you can't say that you turned him gay..."

Kyle suddenly stood up and walked out of the bedroom. We could hear Scott's bathroom door slam closed. Scott and I looked at each other.

"I'll talk to him," Scott said, getting up and leaving the bedroom. Jason lay there, his arms now empty, looking incredibly sad. I noticed a couple of tears running down his face.

I moved over by him on the bed, "What's the matter, Jason? You don't think that Kyle turned...."

"No, it's not that," he said, pressing his palms against his eyes and wiping away the tears, "It's just that..... oh, God, Todd....I don't know how to deal with this anymore!"

I got worried. Had we scared him, this fresh young novice to our group?

"Hey, what is it? You can trust me," I encouraged him.

He was silent for a moment before he looked up at me, "You've got to promise me that Kyle and Scott won't know anything about this! Promise me!!"

"Okay," I said, "I promise."

His voice got real low, and I saw a lot of pain in his face, "The thing is... I lied to you. All of you. That night, back in March, when you initiated me into the Brotherhood, I kind of let you know that I hadn't done anything with any of my gay friends. That was a lie."

I shook my head because I didn't understand, "It's not that important..."

"NO!" he cried, puncing his fist into the bed, "it IS important, and I can't live with myself anymore because of it!"

I had a lot of older friends when I was in middle school. A lot of my friends were already in high school. One of them was my closest friend, Terry. Terry and I had known each other for years. We both lived on the same street and had played together since we were real young. We still hung out a lot. He would help me with my homework, and I would play basketball with him.

I remember the day he told me. It was about last September and he had started sophomore year at high school. I was in the eighth grade. At about 11pm on a Thursday night, I heard a loud rapping at my window. I woke up suddenly and went over to the window. Terry was out on the tree that grew beside my house. I had used the tree many times as a child.

I opened the window. A sudden blast of cool air made my bare-chested nipples hard.

"What the hell are you doing, Terry?" I asked him. He climbed into my room out of breath. He sat on the floor, his face white. Something was freaking him out.

"Dude, what's going on?"

"Something happened, Jason," he said quietly, realizing he didn't want to wake up the house, "something's happened and I am really scared."

"Well, what is it? Tell me," I commanded him urgently.

He was shaking, "I was at the bookstore at the mall downtown, and then Chad Evers and all of his varsity friends were there, and they saw what I was buying.... and they went ballistic man. They threatened me, threatened to kill me, threatened to tell.....EVERYBODY....."

"Dude, you're babbling!" I hissed at him. "What the hell is going on? Why would they threaten you about a book?"

His trembling hands reached into his coat and pulled out the paper bag. I took it from him and spilled the contents onto the floor. As the paper rustled, out fell a glossy magazine and a book. I looked at the book: How to Love your Gay Child. I checked out the magazine, it was a porno mag for homosexuals, filled with pictures of two, three, four men having all kinds of sex.

"Terry......this is....... does that mean......" I was at a loss for words. I had no idea that Terry might have even been that way.

"I'm gay, Jason," he admitted. "I've felt it for a long time. I tried to ignore it, tried to pretend I didn't like guys, but it's no stage. I only allowed myself to admit it a few weeks ago. I've been trying to figure out how to tell people, if I should tell people."

"And Chad Evers and the other varsity jocks found out," I said. Shit, he was in trouble. Chad and his gang were incredible homophobes. I couldn't imagine how they would react to finding out someone who may have seen them naked in the showers was gay.

"He started raving so loud that the entire mall could hear!" Terry said, "He flipped out. Accused me of spying on him in the showers. Said he was going to teach me a lesson, beat the shit out of me for looking at him. He said he was going to tell everyone."

The room was quiet for a few minutes.

"What are you going to do?" I asked him.

"I don't know," he replied. "This is happening too fast. I feel like everything is out of control. I'm not ready for everyone to know about me being gay!"

"Are you going to school tomorrow?"

"No," he said, "I'm going to be sick tomorrow."

"Well," I said, not knowing what else to say, "why don't you hang around until you feel like you can go home."

We turned on my bedside lamp and sat there for a while. Slowly, he was starting to calm down, but I could tell that he was still highly nervous. Things were going to be really tough for him.

"What's it like?" I asked him after a while. I had been looking at the cover of the porno magazine.

"It's pretty nice," he said. "You never have to worry about pregnancy when you have sex. I'm not any different, I just like guys in the way that you like Frannie Taylor."

"You don't..... like me.... do you?"

He smiled at me, "You're cute, but we're friends. Gay people just don't run around looking for excuses to have sex, you know."

"Look," he turned to me, "you're not going to stop being my friend, are you? I'm afraid that not a lot of people are going to like me very much after tomorrow."

"Dude, I don't care if you're gay. Of course we're still friends."

He looked so relieved and excited at the same time. I suppose he wasn't really thinking when he leaned over and kissed me quickly on the mouth.

"..But not if you're going to be kissing me, man," I quickly added once he had removed his lips. He seemed embarassed, but still happy. He started flipping through the pages in the porno. There were men in all sorts of positions, cocks in each other's asses, mouths, cum spewed everywhere. I saw from over his shoulder. I couldn't help but get a little interested. It looked hot.

"Have you ever done any of that?" I asked. He shook his head.

"No, but isn't it hot?" he asked. I hesitated in replying.

"You know, most of it is the same stuff you would do with girls," he said. "Mouths and tongues work the same for everybody."

"Yeah, but you know that it's different," I argued.

"Look, do you want me to prove it to you?" he asked.

"How?" I was wary.

"I want you to lay back and think about Frannie Taylor," he said. "You picture her coming into your room, completely naked."

"No problem, I do that all the time," I said. I laid back in my bed. I started picturing her gorgeous young body coming into my room, her eyes filled with lust for me. I could see her pert young breasts, her smooth skin shining in the moonlight. Her hair seemed to float in some magical wind.

"She walks over to your bed," he said quietly. I visualized her body moving. I could feel my newly active penis start to get hard in my pajamas.

"Slowly, she leans over you, her lips coming closer...." It could see her, her lustful face, her beautiful lips, coming closer and closer. Then, they were against my mouth. I could feel her mouth open, and I responded by opening mine. Quickly, her tongue darted inside and I met it with mine. My cock was throbbing hard now, her naked body laying against me as our mouths danced together.

But then I opened my eyes. I was startled for a second, because there was Terry. I pulled away anxiously.

"I thought I told you not to kiss me!" I said.

"I know," he said reluctantly, "but I only wanted to make the point. C'mon, before you remembered that it was me, didn't it feel just as good as if you were kissing Frannie?"

I had to acquiese. When it was Frannie kissing me, it was passionate and exciting. But I was immediately repelled when I found out it was just Terry. My dick softened again.

"Okay," I shrugged. "So you have a point about gay sex. But that's only kissing."

"It's for almost everything," he said. "Trust me, I've been thinking about it alot."

"But how?" I insisted.

"Our bodies don't care about how they're getting turned on," he said. "Only our minds care."

"I don't believe that I would get excited by anyone other than a girl," I insisted.

"Then why did you have a tent in your pajamas?" he asked.

"Because I was thinking about Frannie," I retorted. "If I knew all the time it was you, I wouldn't have been tented."

Terry looked at me seriously, "Are you so sure?"

"Yeah!"

"Fine, then would you mind a little test?" he said. "We'll see whose right."

"I don't know...."

"Look, you were the one who was boasting."

I thought about it for a few seconds. It didn't really feel like we were doing anything sexual, just arguing about it as if it was a fight about who would win the NBA championships.

"I'll give you five minutes," I said. "If I get tented, then you're right."

"Fine," he said matter of factly, "I'll have you hard in two."

Terry leaned forward over me. While I thought he was going to kiss me, his face turned down and he pressed his lips up against my bare chest. That was cheating! His lips kissed their way along my collarbone, and then back again to my neck, only leaving a slight trail of wetness. His hot lips started moving up my neck and then back again, tasting their way down my chest slowly.

Suddenly, his mouth detoured and his gently sucking lips wrapped themselves around my small dark nipple. He then began to press his tongue against the hardened teat and run it around in small circles. Waves of tingles started radiating out from my chest, from every cell of my skin being touched by Terry's mouth. The hot tingles ran down my stomach and into my crotch. I knew I was going to lose as my cock started to tingle, and then to get hot with blood.

Terry's mouth suddenly detached and moved to my other side. My left nipple was now exposed and wet with his saliva. As his lips wrapped around my other nipple, new tingles spread out across my skin. It was as if his kisses were radiating from my nipple into the rest of my body. I wanted to stop it, but my pajamas started to feel tight around my quickly enlarging dick. My heart was racing, and I was breathing faster because of it.

Suddenly, he stopped, glanced at my pajamas and then into my eyes, "I win."

"You win," I sighed as the warm tingles disappeared. But then, Terry was suddenly kissing my chest again. His mouth worked around each nipple, continuing to build my arousal.

"Terry, the bet is over," I reminded him, feeling his wet mouth on my smooth skin.

"You said you'd give me five minutes," he whispered, "I have four minutes left."

With that, his mouth moved closer to the short beard of hairs in my crotch. I could feel his slick tongue explore my belly-button for a few seconds before reaching the edge of my pajamas.

I wanted to tell him to stop, I wanted to tell him to go home. But my mind was suspended in this sea of incredible sensation. And all it had been was his mouth! My skin trembled as his hot lips caressed it, suckled it, tasted it.

As I considered this, Terry lifted his mouth from my stomach and then placed it on the bulge of my pajamas. I could feel his warmth, the pressure of his lips pressing up against it through the fabric. Terry opened his mouth wider, and began to take the clothed bulge into his mouth, pulling the fabric down around it.

He slowly mouthed the bulge in my pajamas, building up incredible sensations. My dick was getter harder and harder as I felt the movements of his tongue pressing against it, his saliva seeping through the cotton and onto the skin of my glans.

As I rode those building mountains of pleasure, I wondered if it would really be so bad if Terry made me cum.

"Christ-sakes, Terry," I said quickly, pulling his head off my bulge. You could see the huge wet spot radiating around from the peak of my erect cock. Within a second, I untied the string and pushed off the pajama bottoms, my pale rigid dick standing exposed in the moonlight. I could feel his breath, only inches away.

This was all that Terry needed. Without another word, he lowered his mouth around my cock, letting his tongue slip down the length of my shaft as he took me in. Oh God, the incredible feeling of his hard wet tongue moving up and down my dick, rubbing against my cockhead! He pressed his face against my thinly furred crotch before pulling slowly off of it. He milked my cock with his lips, sucking it in and out of his mouth.

At this point, Terry, who had been kneeling at my bedside, started shifting his position as he sucked me heartily. He started moving his body up onto the bed, up onto mine. When he had finished changing positions, his legs were at either side of my head, his torso pressed into my stomach. He was up on his elbows, so I didn't have to bear the full brunt of his weight.

I felt it every time his tongue slipped its way around my head. In that mass of pleasure, I noticed his clothed crotch was only inches from my face. At this point, my hesitations were minimal. My father had once taught me the expression, "In for a penny, in for a pound." Nothing held up so true that night as Terry built me into the throes of raw sexual feeling..

I moved my hand up to his crotch, pressed into my collarbone. He lifted his hips and I was able to slip my hand against it. I could feel the incredible bulge of his penis in his jeans. It was so incredibly firm, but had a sponginess to it as well. My fingers pressed against his crotch, my hand taking in the outline of his cock. I moved it up and down the length of it and he quietly moaned.

His body started shifting down, his crotch moving up and becoming parallel with my face. My fingers opened his belt buckle, popped open his jeans, and quickly pulled open the zipper. His white briefs were straining to keep his dick contained. With a flick of my fingers, though, it was released. I marvelled at it. I had never been so close to one, especially one that was hard and pulsing with blood.

Carefully I manuevered it into my mouth. I could taste the saltiness of his skin and sweat. My lips could feel distinct ridges in his shaft and his cockhead was knobbier than mine. I could feel the hard shaft at the underside of his penis with my tongue as I took half into my mouth. After a few moments, I could even feel the pulsing of the blood in his dick in my mouth. I tried to mimick what he was doing to me, but it was different because I had no real movement potential.

We lay there in the middle of the night, in a wet and sloppy 69, praying like hell my folks wouldn't wake up to one of our little grunts or moans, and come charging into the room to find us like this. I knew his five minutes were up, I didn't care. We sucked and licked each others dicks for close to ten minutes, our hips slowly rocking, our mouths getting tired but still going.

Then, at one moment, I felt a trickle of his warm saliva slip from his mouth and run slowly down the bulge of my scrotum. It nestled into my anus, and as the lips of my ass felt the hot, slick fluid, I couldn't hold out anymore. My cock spasmed and jumped, pulsing in his mouth. I felt shot after shot of my semen being sucked out by his hungry tongue. After ten eruptions, I finally stopped and everything from my stomach to my knees was numb with ecstacy.

I continued on his dick until I heard him make a little sound. I didn't want to have him cum in my mouth, so I pulled off of his dick and aimed it at my chest, rubbing it with my fingers. Soon, I saw up close as his penis jerked, spewing out gobs of thick white fluid. It ended up landing on my neck, some of it pooling, some of it dripping down onto my pillow.

Terry changed position again, this time so we were face to face. He leaned in and put his lips against my neck, sucking up his own semen. His licked up and down the sides of my neck. Meanwhile, our cum slickened cocks rubbed together as they grew smaller, sending a few last thrilling sensations through us before he stood up.

We said goodbye that night, and after he fixed up his pants, he took his stuff and went out the window. He didn't go to school on Friday. On Saturday, he received a prank call at his house. By Sunday, he had intercepted at least ten phone calls from his family in which his life was threatened. For the next two weeks, things got increasingly intollerable for him. Everyone avoided him, everyone stared at him, whispering behind his back. He couldn't walk into a room without someone slipping into a lispy voice and talking like a fairy. The jocks would corner him when no one was around and describe in detail how they were going to cut off his cock and balls. His phone was ringing off the hook with obscene and harassing phone calls. Terry slipped into a deep depression.

Then one day, I was at the park. There were two basketball courts next to each other, divided by a fence. I noticed that Craig Evers and some of his friends were playing teams of three on one court. I was there practicing my shooting in the next court when Terry appeared at the gate.

"Hey," I said to him, happy to have company.

"Hey," he replied, his eyes glancing off to Craig and his crew.

"Just practing my shots," I said, shooting the ball and sinking it.

"Yeah, I saw that," Terry smiled cautiously. "Do you wanna play a little one-on-one?"

"Zander can't play one-on-one with you, fairy."

We turned. There was Craig and his friends watching us.

"You see, Jason already agreed that he was going to play in for Donny after two games. Isn't that right, Donny?" Craig said.

"That's right," Donny agreed. There was a pause for a moment. I glanced at Terry. I could tell how much pain he swallowing. He only looked at me with pleading eyes.

"C'mon Zander," Craig said, opening the gate between the two courts, "It's your game. That is, unless you want to play one-on-one with that girl over there."

"Maybe," one their friends said, "they play one-on-one with the lights out." Craig gazed evenly at me.

I knew what was happening. I stood there, glancing between Craig and Terry. Terry was my best friend and I cared a lot about him. I hated to see them do this to him... he didn't deserve it. He had a kind heart and was so funny. But Terry had chosen something and I couldn't let his choice make my life the hell his was. I couldn't afford to be labelled as gay, I couldn't afford to have to suffer the hell just because I was associated with him.

I turned and looked at Craig, "Was that two games already? I guess I wasn't paying attention."

I looked back at Terry, "I guess I can't play one on one with you today, Terry. I'm sorry." With that, I drobbed the basketball and walked over toward the other court. As I stepped inside Craig's court, the band broke up and prepared for another game. I turned to look at Terry. He was walking away from the courts slowly. I watched as he turned once to look at me. Jesus, I had never seen such pain in another man's eyes. I had broken his heart, and I had been the only person left who cared about him.

Jason sat on the bed, weeping openly as he finished his story.

"The next week," he cried, "his mother found him in a bloody bathtub. He had sliced his wrists. He left a note saying that if living his honest life was going to be such hell, then he didn't want to live."

I glanced up and saw that Scott and Kyle were standing in the doorway. They had overheard his story from down the hall and had come back to listen. Jason couldn't see them because he was facing me.

Everything then began to come out of him. He started openly sobbing, tears running down his face.

"I loved him as my best friend, and I betrayed him because I didn't want to be associated with his gayness. I swore to him that night in my room, the night we had sex, that I didn't care about him being gay, that he was always my friend. I said I would always be his friend. He wanted so little from me, and I betrayed him. I betrayed him and he killed himself. Oh GOD!"

He began to yell at the ceiling, "WHY WAS I SUCH A COWARD! WHY DID I LET HIM DOWN! Oh Terry, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry....I'm sorry......I'm sorry........."

Jason collapsed into ball on the bed, screaming out his tears, chanting his desperate apology. Scott and Kyle came into the room and we all sat around him, holding him tightly, trying to comfort him. We lay like that for a good hour while Jason sobbed and sobbed. Finally, either from exhaustion or from running out of tears, he stopped and lay there for another thirty minutes as still as the grave, just staring away. Finally, he was able to sit up. You could see the marks of the tears on his face, but he said he would be okay.

We ended that meeting of the Brotherhood on a note like no other. We had always taken for granted who we were. That night changed all that. From then on, when we had sex, it was sacred. Suddenly, we knew just how vulnerable each of us was. We stopped being fuck- buddies. We all started being lovers.

I put down the notebook and wiped my eyes. So much of his story completed the lonely, disillusioned picture-puzzle of the Jason I had met in my office six months ago. I thanked God he was able to bear his pain out in the company of people who loved him beyond judgement. The Brotherhood was not just some kinky little sex group. It was a marriage.

I went to bed that night with a lot on my mind. As I turned the lights out, I said a little prayer for Jason, Anthony, David, and Terry. All of them had become victims to a merciless society, bent on the destruction of everything it considered deviant.

"When will it end, oh God," I prayed in the depths of the night, "When will it end?"