Ups and Downs

Brother to Brother

I almost knocked Ward down as I flew off the platform and raced to greet my brother Eric, completely oblivious to the fact that I was stark naked and dragging a dong that was still three-quarters erect. I threw my arms around him and squeezed him so hard that I almost cut off his air supply. Yes, it’s true that he and I had never really been very close—mostly due to the difference in our ages—but he was the first family member I had seen in months, and I guess I was starved for that connection.

“Whoa, bro! I’m glad to see you too.”

“Eric, what are you doing here? Did you know I would be here?”

“Of course, Joe. I came to see you…although I didn’t know I was going to see all of you…but that’s OK. It’s cool.”

“But how did you know that I would be here?”

“Amy told me. I speak to her and Mom about once a week. I wasn’t sure I could make it since Cindy’s parents are visiting this weekend, but then I got a call from Mr. Block here, and he convinced me that I should not miss this opportunity.”

“How long are you going to be around?”

“I’ve only got a couple more hours, and then I have to get back to New Haven.”

“Why don’t you two go grab some lunch and catch up?” suggested Mr. Block.

I looked to Mr. Block, Woody, and Eric to make sure I had everyone’s approval. Mr. Block and Eric nodded their assent, and Woody suggested that I might want to put on some clothes before going out. Before racing off to the changing room, I hugged Mr. Block and Woody, which drew smiles of surprise from both of them and a chuckle from Eric.

“Oh, I’m glad you’re still here,” I said to Ward as I entered the changing room. “I wanted to thank you for guiding me through that gig, but when I saw my brother in the crowd, I just had to fly.”

“Your brother, eh?” he asked as he finished getting dressed. “From the way you were acting, I thought maybe he was your boyfriend.”

“No, I don’t have a boyfriend,” I replied, which drew slight nods and a little smile from Ward. “Are you going to be around for the rest of the show?” I asked.

“No,” said Ward, to my disappointment. “I was planning to stay with Dimitri at his uncle’s place, but since Dimitri didn’t come and I have no way of contacting his uncle, I guess I’ll have to go back to the city. I can’t really afford to stay in a hotel here.”

“But you can share my room,” I insisted. “I’ve got a king-size bed, and maybe you can give me a few more pointers on modeling.”

“That sounds like fun,” Ward perked up.

“Great!” I said. “I’m off to have lunch with Eric, but I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“I’ll be here,” he assured me as he zipped up his pants and headed for the exit. But then he turned around, came back to me, and planted a big fat sloppy kiss on my lips before finally taking his leave.

I found Eric assessing my sketches when I returned to the main area of the warehouse. “Amy told me you were very talented,” he remarked, “but I had no idea you were this good.”

“I hope I haven’t embarrassed you,” I said.

“No, of course not. Why the hell would you think that?”

“Well, not everybody appreciates erotic art, especially homoerotic art, and after the way Dad reacted—”

“I’m not Dad,” Eric snapped, a little more forcefully than I could have imagined. “Don’t get me wrong,” he added. “I love him dearly, but he can be a bit provincial in his thinking and hot headed, and the way he treated you is just downright shitty.”

I never felt closer to Eric than at that moment.

“But I am so proud of you…the way you have bounced back and made a life for yourself.”

“I’m still on probation with this job,” I cautioned.

“Bullshit! Mr. Block and Mr. Woodward…I guess you call him Woody…those guys fucking love you. They couldn’t stop praising you, not just for your artistic skills but for everything you do there. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if they adopted you.”

I had thought I was doing well in the job, but the intensity of Eric’s report surprised me and left me just a bit speechless.

“Let’s finish this conversation over lunch,” Eric suggested. “I’m starving.”

“Me too,” I agreed.

Eric drove us to a nice restaurant not far from the warehouse. “Aaron suggested this place. It’s a bit pricy, but he says the food is good, and it’s quiet.”

I held up my “company” credit card and replied, “Lunch is on me.”

“Well, look at you, Mr. Bigshot,” he teased.

As we placed our orders and waited for our lunch to arrive, I probed Eric’s feelings about my modeling. “Are you sure you didn’t feel just a little uncomfortable seeing your brother modeling completely naked up on that stage?”

“Uncomfortable? No, not at all. I was proud. Hell, you were the hottest guy in that whole place.”

“Me? Not Ward?”

“He would run a close second, but every man there was aching to get into bed with you. Hell, if you weren’t my little brother, I would have jumped your bones myself.”

“Eric!”

“What? I said if you weren’t my little brother.”

“Yeah, but you’re not…. Wait. Are you trying to tell me that you’re gay too?”

“No I’m not gay. I’m bi.”

“So you have sex with men and women?”

“Not since I married Cindy. She’s bisexual too, by the way. We both had sex with people of either sex before we were married, sometimes together and sometimes separately, but when we got married, we took a vow of monogamy, and I’ve never had sex with anyone else since—male or female.”

“So you went straight when you got married?”

“When did you become gay, Joe?”

Scoffing, I replied, “I didn’t become gay. I’ve always been gay. I was born this way, and I will die this way.”

“Exactly. And I was born bisexual. Sexual orientation is not who you do. It’s who you are. And just because a man gets married, that doesn’t make him any less gay or less bisexual. It may change what he does, but it doesn’t change what he is.”

“I never thought of it that way.”

After our lunch, we ordered coffee and chatted for another hour before he took me back to the warehouse where the art show was being held.

“Joe, don’t let Dad hold you back. He’ll come around eventually. Just keep doing what you’re doing and being who you are. You are an exceptional young man, and I am so proud to call you my brother.”

It was all I could do to hold back my tears, so I just gave Eric a great big bear hug—with clothes on this time—and we agreed to keep in touch.

When I found Mr. Block inside, I offered him the receipt for lunch and told him I would reimburse him for the personal expense.

“Joe, did you discuss your job with your brother?”

“Yeah, some.”

“OK, then it’s a business expense. I’ll keep the receipt for the records, but you don’t owe me a thing. Did you two have a good chat?”

“Yeah, I’ll say. I’ve never felt closer to my brother.”

“That’s great. In that case, it was worth every penny you spent.”

I thanked him profusely and asked if there was anything he needed me to do. When he said no, I went to find Aaron to ask him the same question. “Will you want me to help you take down the platform after we close?”

“No,” he said, “I think we’ll just leave it up for the auction tomorrow.”

The auction. Wow! My sketches were going up for auction. Of course, if nobody bids, or if they bid too low, I might end up with less than $100, but that’s OK. I ever expected to make any money off of them anyway.

I decided to go back to the area where my sketches were on display and, seeing Ward up ahead, I started walking toward him when I was besieged once again by patrons who wanted to know all about my sketches and about me. I collected dozens more cards from artists who wanted to paint me and from individuals who wanted me to sketch them. And then, of course, there were the guys who just wanted to fuck me, but that was flattering too.

At closing time, I explained Ward’s predicament to Mr. Block and Woody and informed them that he would be staying with me for the night. “Woody and I will be having a late supper around 9:00. We won’t need your help for anything, but you and Ward are certainly welcome to join us.”

When Ward and I got to my room, I informed him of the invitation, and he replied, “Good, ‘cuz we’re both gonna be starving by the time I get through with you.” And with that, he tore my clothes off, threw me onto the bed, and picked up where he had left off in our modeling bit.

He pulled me to the edge of the bed with my head hanging over the edge and shoved his cock down my throat. I gagged several times, but I wasn’t complaining. He had a marvelous cock, and I loved every inch of it.

Ward was a talker. As he skull-fucked me, he grunted about how good his cock felt in my mouth and how I must enjoy having a real man-cock bruising my tonsils. After several minutes of this kind of foreplay, he dragged me back fully onto the bed, flipped me onto my stomach, shoved his big dick up my ass, and fell on top of me as he humped me doggie style. “You like my big dick, don’t you Joe? Sure you do. You fuckin’ love it.” He was pounding me so hard that all I could do was to grunt and moan in reply.

After about ten minutes of this position, he turned me 45 degrees and fucked me sideways. Then, ten minutes or so after that, he flipped me again in a different position. I’ve gotta give the guy this: he sure as hell had plenty of stamina. And he knew positions that I had never even heard of or seen in porn flicks. Damn, he was good!

But he saved the best for last. He flipped me on my back, lifted my legs over his shoulders, and fucked me missionary style, but as he did that, he pumped my own aching dick, saying things like, “Damn, you’re a good fuck, boy. I could fuck you all night.” (And he probably could too.) “You’ve got a nice dick too. It feels good in my hand. I wonder if it’s gonna feel as good in my ass later. God, I hope you’re not just shitting me. I really want my dick inside of you tonight. With that thought in my mind, I shot my load all over the headboard as well as my face and body.

“Damn, stud. You been saving up all month for me? Just for me? I’m flattered,” he laughed until his own orgasm took control of him. As he poured his man seed into me, all he could do was grunt, moan, and slam his dick deeper and deeper into my guts. He was definitely a power fucker.

Once we showered and got dressed, we made it down to the hotel lobby just in time to meet Mr. Block and Woody for dinner.

Seeing the satisfied grins on our faces, Woody quipped, “Damn, you don’t waste any time, do you, Joe?”

I had always treated Woody with deference, never wanting to crack that business-like façade of his, but this time, I just couldn’t resist the temptation.

“Oh, you’re just jealous, Woody.”

Caught off guard by my sudden brashness, Woody stiffened a bit, but Mr. Block just howled with laughter. “I think you may have met your match, Woody.” And he laughed even harder.

To be continued