Date: Sat, 27 Nov 2010 19:02:17 -0200 From: thegreybaron@googlegroups.com Subject: Medic Brother - Part 1 Medic Brother -- part one By Erick Heslove The following story is a work of fiction and is meant for viewing by adults only.. If you are not allowed to view such content or if such content does not appeal to you, simply do not proceed. The following story is more . . . emotion at the moment. Currently there is no sex, but I am pretty sure it will come in the next installment. Comments are welcome, let me know what you think about where this story is going. Medic Brother -- part one By Erick Heslove There were never many people who interested me much. Growing up, my dad was always out working -- so I never saw him much, and my mom was always taking care of my sisters and I so she was always swearing us and telling of how we were a burden and we took so much away from her -- in simple English as I understood it once the vulgar words were removed: she hated us. But Jeff . . . now that guy was a star . . . and held a special place in my heart, and always would. We dealt with it in our own way, each of us, my older sister worked her way through three marriages by the time she was twenty three, and left yet another baby with my mom and I to take care of while she found a new mans bed to sleep in . . . As much as I hated her for living the way she did, I also envied her for the freedom, and often the `don't-care' attitude that just never stuck with me, I always just had to care so fucking much that I would always end up staying around to clean up some one else's mess. My brother set off too, I remember my mom shouting to my siblings and I to `fuck off once we were eighteen,' hell, he did her a favor and left when he was sixteen. Dad always spoke of him, proudly, and so did mom, but I knew, and he knew too, that she would have sang a different song had he stuck around. My problem was that I understood my family too much -- my elder sister missed my dad, and looked for his affection in the wrong places, even I did the same, though not as intensely as her. I looked up to movie stars, and great men in the public eye who were Perfect . . . and did my best to work my way to being as great as them -- minus the fame. Jeff was the lucky one, the one that got away. At the age of sixteen he left for the military, where he trained as a medic. He's doing pretty well, saving lives and limbs of our good soldiers. He is One of the great men I look up to. And had began in early days . . . Once dad beat me so bad I was bleeding and choking on tears and blood . . . Jeff was there. He held me I his strong arms, and told me that he was going to take care of me. He cleaned me up, put me to rest, and that was the last time dad ever laid a hand on me. I don't know what Jeff did . . . but dad looked at me differently from then on . . . Even at night when I would be cold or scared, Jeff would always know, and he'd already be under my blanket in my bed, holding me safely in his arms. I remember the day he left, he'd spoken to dad about it for months, but dad didn't pay much attention . . . neither did mom, they all assumed that the Hard life of the military would send him crawling back home, which he never did, and in six years, I hadn't seen him, except in the pictures he sent me . . . we use to share a room, and it was not uncommon for me to see him dress or come out of the shower, I missed those times, when it use to be just me and him, against the world, standing together, surviving our parents. He'd saved me many times, from dad's fists, when he got pissed, his wrath fell hard, and it didn't matter that I was ten years old, or that Jeff was only fifteen . . . he fought us like grown men. Jeff doesn't speak to them . . . but he still writes me letters, and over the years we had developed a way of writing to each other, so that our letters would contain two messages. If I drew a certain shape over a specific part of the page it would align certain words that were our personal words to each other, just a secret between brothers. I told him about the first time I had a wet dream. It was a horrible feeling waking up in the morning with cum all over my pants . . . Jeff instructed me to jerk off at night, empty my loads. It worked, and pretty soon the wet dreams went away. Some of them were things like he was sorry for leaving me, and that He knew I would do well. He was right, I was in college, doing well, and I gave no one a reason To correct me. Especially dad, so all was good. I gave him credit for it all and did whatever good I did, in his honour. He set me up for growing into the man I am. Dad's violence still persisted, in his language, and with other men he thought he could just beat up . . . I even understood why he was like that, and I understood why mom hated her kids . . . Ignorance is bliss I say, because all this damn understanding just makes me want to stay behind and fix things . . . when I could have run away ages ago and build a good life for myself. Of cause, I told this to Jeff, but to my disappointment, he told me to stay put. He would come rescue me some day. I looked forward to that uncertain day . . . In the mean time, there was some one whom I wanted to elope with, a girl I met in college. She was the sweetest girl imaginable, and the thing that I loved about her so much was that for once in my fucked up life, I didn't understand her! She did so many things that I could never figure out, the reasons, the why's . . . I loved her, and pictured building a life with her. Jeff was happy about this, and asked me not to leave so that he could meet This young lady. So I endured my fathers house a couple years longer, got engaged to my college sweet-heart and received the best news in the world -- top secret though, mom And dad were never to find out. Jeff was returning to our home town, and I couldn't wait. I had to keep it secret, and the entire affair just made me hard . . . this was a new Sensation I did not understand, but I threw it off as excitement. I loved Jeff, every one knew that. He was my brother, and if I got hard thinking about him, I had no problem with that. We came out of the same womb . . . we cant get more intimate than that . . . And we shared a large part of our lives together, hell a lot more than I am letting on . . . I was beyond excited. He would arrive in a week, and will live in a motel about thirty minutes away from home. I simply could not wait. END Comments welcome - thegreybaron@googlegroups.com You are also welcome to join my group - http://groups.google.com/group/thegreybaron To regular readers, please share your thoughts on this one as I am unsure about it, Thanks for reading.