Date: Fri, 09 Aug 2002 03:46:09 +0000
From: Brad Goodman <bradgoodman30@hotmail.com>
Subject: Family of Four - Chapter1 (G/M & Y/A)

Legal Notice:
The following story may contain descriptions of graphic sexual acts.  These
acts may be between boys or between a man and a boy.

The author, or his designee, retains copyright to this story.  There may be
no reproducing or distribution of this story without expressed written
consent.

Positive emails and feed back may be sent to bradgoodman30@hotmail.com

     *************************************************************
Please bear with me through this first chapter as it is needed for everyone
to understand how we all came together and if the response is positive I
will submit the rest of our tale which is sure to please your desires.

Family of Four                                By: Brad Goodman
Chapter 1                                     Copyright August 2002

     I guess my life began just like every other person in the world.  I
like everyone else was born with a biological mother and father.  You would
think luck would have been on my side because unlike many others my mother
and father were married and generally (from what I have learned) happy with
there lives.  Others have told me they were much in love.  We will proceed
now to my third year of life because I have no real memories from the first
two.  I can remember getting up at times to go into my mother and father's
room when I was scared and before I got there would find mom sleeping on the
couch.  I also have vivid memories of lying in bed and listening to my
mother and father yell at each other after they thought I was asleep.  My
mother was an alcoholic and my father was a loveless tyrant.  You would
think they would make a perfect match but that is not the case.  For many
years I had to walk on eggshells around them in order to avoid being
slapped, hit, kicked, whipped, or just generally beaten.  I believe my
desire to excel spurned from my desire to avoid getting the crap kicked out
of me by my mother and father.  You may have noticed by now that I refer to
the two that brought me into this world as my mother and father.  I will
never use the word "parents" because they never displayed any form of
parenting.  I do not consider belittling or beating a child to be parenting.
  Unfortunately, not everyone seems to agree with me.

	By the time I was ten my mother and father had decided they would like to
have another child (why I do not know).  I always wanted a brother or sister
who I could spend time with or at least share beatings with.  Fortunately
for any future siblings, my mother had developed problems with her tubes and
could not conceive.  They tried for three years and nothing ever came of it.
  They decided to adopt.  My mother and father concealed their respective
drinking problems very well and passed the home inspections and background
checks with flying colors.  Financially we were doing just fine.  My father
was a salesman for an oil and gas company and my mother was a stay at home
drunk.  My father traveled three to four days out of the week and
unfortunately frequented bars while he was on the road.  This helped him to
develop a serious drinking problem as well.  The one bright spot was that my
mother and father had a very nice home.  Our house was a nice two-story home
with five bedrooms.  We were located in a great neighborhood in the city of
Sugar Land, Texas.  This is a small city on the southwest side of Houston.
In the early eighties (1980s) our home was estimated at a whopping $135,000.
  A large sum at the time.  I recently checked out the old homestead on a
web site and saw it is currently valued at $220,000.

	For two years my parents waited to here about getting a new baby and
finally one Wednesday the phone rang at 5:45.  I had just gotten home from
football practice and almost didn't answer it because I was tired and
hungry.  I was two days shy of my fifteenth birthday.  I answered the phone
and the social worker told me the good news.  She asked for my mother and I
told her my usual lie that she was not in.  She was home but already passed
out drunk.  My father would be home tomorrow and could get her sober and out
of the house to get the baby by Friday or early the next week.  I left a
note for him so he could find it and get her sober as quickly as possible
while I was at school.  I had a football game that night (which my parents
did not attend, but they never did come to any before either) and a friend's
mother dropped me home at 9:15 that evening.  When I walked in I found my
mother and father there with the social worker and a baby.  They greeted me
and my mother said "This is your new brother, Jacob."  I walked slowly
towards her and looked at my new brother.  He was tiny!  He had a sparse
growth of dark brown hair on his head and wide-open deep brown eyes.  He had
a dark complexion and this shocked me.  My parents and the social worker
explained to me that he was biracial.  He was half white and half Hispanic.
He was beautiful to me.  I asked if I could hold him.  They told me I could
and I took him in my arms.  I looked at his face and I am sure he smiled at
me.  He was five months old and perfect.  The social worker left us and for
the next two months everything seemed to get better between my mother and
father.

	One Sunday I came home from church (which I attended with a friend's
family) and found my mother and father fighting.  They were screaming at
each other and slapping one another.  Jacob was in the living room in a play
pen crying.  My father began telling my mother he never wanted another
child, and in fact he never wanted the first one.  He proceeded to tell her
that she had quote "fucked up their lives by getting pregnant the first
time."  My mother responded by saying she never really loved my father but
knew he would make a lot of money so she married him.  That evening he locked
himself in a guestroom and she drank herself to sleep by 6:30.  I had found
myself caring for Jacob again.  I had been changing, feeding and playing
with him for the past two weeks.  On Monday I went to school and my father
left on another business trip.  That week I spent all of my hours outside of
school and football caring for Jacob.  My mother was usually drunk by 4:00
and did nothing for him in the evenings.  My father was due home on Thursday
evening, but when I got there he had not arrived.  The next morning he was
still not home, but I figured his flight was delayed or he had to make an
extra stop for another sales call.  When I returned home Friday afternoon he
was still not there.  The weekend passed and my mother stayed in her room
the entire time drinking.  On that Monday I returned to school.  When I came
home that afternoon my mother was sitting on the couch having a drink.  I
asked her if dad was home.  She looked at me and said "I forgot to tell you,
huh?"  "Tell me what?" I said.  "Your worthless ass, bastard of a father
left a message on our machine last Tuesday saying he would not return home,
ever again."  "What?!" I said with amazement.  My mother proceeded "Yeah that
worthless fuck isn't coming back."  I ran upstairs and went into Jacob's
room picked him up and started to cry.  I don't know why.  In my 15 years of
life my father had probably only said about 10 words a week to me.  I was
still sad, scared, and shocked that I would never see him again.

	Football ended a few weeks later and I was able to get home earlier to care
for Jake.  My mother was drinking more than ever and over the next six
months; Jacob was the only other person I saw in the house.  One evening
there was a knock on the door.  It was a mail carrier of some sort and he
had me sign for a letter.  I opened it and read it intensely.  It was a
foreclosure notice.  I had been doing all the shopping and paying the bills
for the last six months, but I never came across a mortgage payment.  As I
found out later, my mother had a payment book in her room.  I read the
notice and ran into her room.  I shook her awake and started yelling at her
about the house being foreclosed on.  She seemed to pay me no attention and
I left knowing she was in no condition to do anything about it.  That
Saturday when I awoke she was up and in the living room.  When I came
downstairs and she saw me and she told me to sit down.  She began to explain
that she went to our local Department of Human Services (DHS) office and had
applied for welfare and food stamps for us.  She also told me they helped
her find a new place for us to live in a housing project inside of Houston.
I was stunned and speechless.  I could not believe my ears.  She went on to
explain that we were out of money because my father had withdrawn about
$10,000 from their savings account.  I had so much to say, but sat their
speechless.  Two weeks later when school was about to start for the new year
we moved.

	Our new place was a two-bedroom apartment in an all black housing project.
The carpet was older than I was and the building itself should have been
condemned.  My new school was not an exemplary school like my old one, but
it instead boasted the lowest test scores in the state.  The school was
about 75% black, 20% Hispanic, and 5% white.  I easily made the varsity
football team, which was the worst in the entire Houston School District.  I
continued to manage our finances (if you could call what little income we
received that) and care for Jacob.  He was a year old now and I was quickly
approaching my sixteenth birthday.  Every night I prayed that the gunshots,
screams, and variety of scary noises outside would not come into our home.
For the next two years this was my life.  After I graduated I was lucky
enough to get a scholarship for football to the University of Houston.  I
majored in Finance and minored in Business Management.  Everyday I would go
to class, practice and then go get Jake from his daycare.  Thank god for
DHS, because they paid his tuition.  I could no longer leave him with my
mother as now she had become a 24/7 drunk.  By the end of my first year of
college things seemed to be going well for us.  We were poor and lived in a
rat hole, but Jake and I had each other and he was turning into an
intelligent and handsome young boy.  We never saw our mother and in fact I
do not know if he knew she was drinking herself to death in the other room.

	A month before my 19th birthday, Jake and I returned home and I noticed
that the usually foul apartment was even more rank than ever.  Before it was
always the smell of sewage backing up but this odor was more of something
rotting or decaying.  As I investigated the smell I noticed it was
concentrated around my mother's room.  I knocked but there was no answer.  I
told Jake to go to our room and shut the door.  When the door to our room
shut I opened my mother's door.  As I feared before I opened it she was
dead.  I immediately called the police.  I explained to them our situation
and they had the coroner come out and cart her body off.  Later the coroner
reported she had died from failure of her liver, kidneys, and eventually her
heart.  She had been dead in her room for at least three days before I
called them.  After much legal wrangling and investigations I was eventually
awarded custody of Jake.  Thank god for pell grants and my scholarship,
because without them we would have never made it.  They do not provide
assistance to family members who take in children and their is no support
given to able bodied men with children (which I have decided is very sexist
since we do give assistance to able bodied women).  We were happy with each
other and I think our lives improved after my mother's death.  At least I
felt less stressed by our situation.

	A month after my mother died a new young lady moved into our project in the
apartment next to ours.  She was 22 and had a four and half year old son.
She was gorgeous.  She had long blond hair, green eyes, and a smooth white
complexion.  She was tall for a woman about 5 feet 8 inches tall.  I was
only six inches taller being 6 feet 2 inches tall and fell for her
immediately.  Her son was gorgeous too.  He was shorter than Jacob, but had
really blond hair and haunting blues eyes.  Jacob was really cute but this
boy was amazing.  I went over to meet her the day they moved in and to
invite them to come over for pizza.  I knocked on her door and when it
opened I said "Hello, I am your next door neighbor Brad."  She said "Hello,
my name is Tanya and this is my son Nick."  "Pleased to meet you both.  I
came over to invite you and Nick to come over to my place for pizza this
evening."  I could tell she was about to say no thank you and I quickly
blurted out "My little brother would really like to meet Nick because I
think they are about the same age."  Tanya asked me how old my little
brother was and what his name was.  I told her he was four and a half and
that his name was Jacob.  She turned to Nick and said "Nick, would you like
to meet Jacob and have pizza with Mr. Brad tonight?"  He nodded yes and she
quickly turned to me and said they would love to come by.  I said "About
six."  She said no he is four and a half too.  "No, will you come by about
6:00."  "I'm sorry I miss understood, six would be fine."  I realized then
that I was not dealing with the brightest bulb in the box, but it sure was a
pretty bulb.

	At six there was a knock at the door.  I had already ordered the pizza so
it arrived just a few minutes later.  Tanya and I talked a lot and Nick and
Jacob hit it off immediately and were playing with some toys in the bedroom.
  She told me how when she got pregnant her boyfriend left her and she and
Nick have been alone since he was born.  I told her my story and how I have
been raising Jacob since I was 15.  We instantly made a connection.  They
left at 10:30 and we both agreed to do this again very soon.  The next day
she invited Jake and me over for dinner.  After dinner we were sitting
talking some more at the table as the kids played in Nick's room and before
I knew what happened we were kissing.  I have devoted all my time to Jake
for five years and this was the first girl I have ever kissed.  It continued
and progressed until we were kissing passionately and I had my hand in her
shirt undoing her bra.  It was getting late so we broke our embrace to check
on the kids.  When we entered the room both boys were lying in the bed
together in their underpants.  They were very cute lying there sleeping like
angels.  Before I knew what happened we had gone in to her room and were
undressing.  We kissed passionately and made love all night long.  I had six
orgasms that night.  I had never had sex before and I think steadily
improved as the night went on.  That morning the boys woke us as they jumped
into the bed with us at 6:00 am.  They went into the living room and turned
on the TV.  I told Tanya she was my first and she said she knew and was glad
she was my first.  For the next 2 years we spent a lot of time together
sometimes we made love and sometimes we just held each other.

	Our relationship over those two years was a very open and honest one.  She
occasionally dated other men, but she and I seemed to end up together at
least several times a month.  We were never a couple and had never talked
about dating others, but we both understood that we were not bound to just
one another.  At the end of my senior year of college I was being contacted
by agents trying to sign me.  They all said I would definitely be drafted in
the fifth round by one of the NFL teams.  I had already gone through rehab
twice for my left knee and was not sure how long I would be able to play
even if I made it on the roster of the team that drafted me.  I decided to
stay and finish my school since I would not officially graduate until the
following December.  (By the way I was the 23rd pick of the 4th round.)
That November I was being offered many jobs with signing bonuses.  My
finance degree coupled with my quasi football celebrity was bringing
employers out of the wood works.  It didn't hurt that a local station did
one of those pathetic "Beating the Odds" stories on Jake and me.  I got a
$4500 signing bonus with a prestigious financial firm and a job that paid
$38,000 a year to start.  I immediately used the money as a down payment on
a house in a nice little neighborhood in Sugar Land.  The house was a small
3-bedroom home with two bathrooms.  It was only about 1700 square feet but
it had a yard and no gun shots going off outside.  Jacob was ecstatic,
however,  he was worried about losing Nick though.  They had become the best
of friends and he was afraid that when we moved he would not get to see Nick
anymore.  This was not the case.  Tanya and I talked before the move and she
asked me if I would say Nick lived with me so he could go to the exemplary
school district in our new neighborhood.  I told her of course I would.  The
boys finished their first grade year in their new school and really enjoyed
it. Nick and Tanya were practically living with us and had moved most of
their stuff into our house.  Tanya continued to date other men and
occasionally slept with me.  Our love was unconventional but everything was
going great.  One Friday I took half the day off because the boys were being
let out from school early.  When I picked them up one of their classmates
over heard Jacob refer to me as Brad.  The boy inquired "Why don't you call
him Dad?"  Jacob did not reply.  The boy asked again "Isn't he your Dad, and
why don't you call him that?"  Jacob and Nick were both silent.  I replied
"It is a long story, we may tell you some other time, Goodbye."  I had
bought a 2 year old used Explorer after I graduated and we all got in to it.
  I told the boys I was going to take them to McDonalds for lunch.  They
smiled coyly at me.

To be continued........