Date: Wed, 8 Mar 2000 22:15:21 -0500 (EST)
From: David Lemmaire <lemmaire@email.com>
Subject: "Loving Andy More" (2/4) (t/b, inc, anal)

LOVING ANDY MORE (2/4) (t/b, inc, anal)
by Lemmaire

Stretching across me for the remote, he flipped on my TV, his thin, young
arm brushing against my body as he nestled back under the covers,
snuggling up to me, laying his head across my chest.

Across the room, on top of my dresser, the Sci-Fi Channel sprang into
colorful life.

"Bump-bump, bump-bump, bump-bump," he giggled softly, watching TV,
following my heartbeat with his ear.

"Hi," I yawned, smiling down at his sleepy head.  "How long was I out,
Doc?"

"Couple hours," he chirped.  "Musta wore you out with my big wiener."

I reached under the covers and pinched his little boyhood.

"Don't flatter yourself, Squirt."

"Hey!"

He giggled, and squirmed away from my tickling hand.

"At least it's big enough to get the job done," he said proudly.

I adored him.  Every word he said to me was playful and wise and true.

"No complaints," I smiled, running the picture through my mind again...me
on my knees...Andy jerking and shuddering as he came in me...trying be
older for me...trying to hold back...but finally releasing himself to the
inevitable climax of his first, shaky penetration.

"Just wait til I'm 40," he grinned.  "Then I'll really plow your garden."

I laughed at the thought of it.  Andy at 40 -- me at 44 -- farmer overalls
down around our ankles -- still sneaking down to my bedroom for afternoon
romps while Mom was away.  A future like that?  It'd be worth growing up
for.

He laid back down on my chest and stroked my arm...gently, without
thinking about it.  I listened to his gentle breathing and felt so
surrounded by love.  So exciting and new and unexpected.  I wanted the
moment to last forever.

I kissed his head.  His hair smelled clean and boyish and sweaty and good.
It was a wild scent, like him -- a mixture of soap and shampoo and naked
playtime....all those scents at once.  I breathed it in deeply and sighed
in contentment.

We watched the screen together, enjoying the closeness, body on body,
sharing heartbeats...quiet, unhurried, gentle bonding.  My brother-angel.
My Andy.

He yawned and pointed at the screen.  It was an old "Wonder Woman"
episode.  Syndicated -- probably destined to cycle on the Sci-Fi Channel
over and over until the end of time.

"Lynda Carter's got nice tits," he pointed out casually.  "Should we call
her up and see if she'll join us?"  He gave my nuts a pinch to seal the
question.

"Ow," I moaned, flicking the top of his head with my finger.  A few hairs
flew out of place, and then magically, flew back down again.  Blond
perfection.  Even his hair knew how to stay beautiful.

I grinned and squeezed him to my chest.

"Lynda Carter's about 60-years-old now.  I think we'd hurt her, Squirt."

His reaction was immediate.

"Lynda Carter is 60???"

I laughed.  "I don't know...something like that."

"Holy balls," he whispered in awe.  "How old IS this show?"

"Old," I grinned.  "They canceled it in 1910."

"Ewww," he said, making a face at the screen.  "I had no idea Lynda Carter
already has grandma tits."

We watched them bounce as she ran to save Lyle Waggoner.  Locked forever
in the time capsule of television, you could still hang a golden lasso on
those babies.

"Yuck," Andy said firmly.  "They should take those tits off the air.  No
fair, getting people's hopes up like that."

I kissed his head.  We watched the rest of the show.
__________________________________________________

"That's enough for me, pal."

I grabbed the remote and flicked off the set.  I rolled over.  Leaned on
top of his shoulders a little.  Supported myself with my arms.  I bent
down and kissed him.  He let me.

He reached up and wrapped his arms around my neck.  His soft little mouth
parted...a gentle, searching hunger.  Our lips met.  His tongue flicked
out to touch my own.  He licked it...sucked on it gently.  My dick grew
hard.  A shiver danced down my spine.

He stopped suddenly and sat up in bed.

"What?" I said puzzled.  "Did I do something wrong?"

"No," he grinned mischievously.  "Wait here.  I'll be right back."

He jumped out of bed and ran to my doorway.

There was a glimmer of planning in his eye.  He was up to something
devious, I could tell.

I sighed and smiled and adjusted my erection.

"Don't take too long," I begged, rubbing my groin. "This thing's about to
go off."

"So, what else is new," he mumbled, rolling his eyes.

Turning and shaking his ass playfully, he opened the door and ran up the
stairs.

A pretty dramatic exit for a 12-year-old.  But with Andy, it was exactly
what I expected.
_________________________________________________

"Are you ready?"

His voice called out from the other side of the door.

I turned the TV back off.  I'd been watching it again, waiting for him.
He'd been gone about 15 minutes.  I'd gotten up to pee.  Made the bed.
Checked for stains.  Counted the minutes, ticking off digitally on my
beside table.

"All set," I grinned, dying to see what he'd been up to.

He opened the door and came bounding in the room.

"Ta-da!" he yelled...holding his arms out in a broad, proud gesture.

I took one look at him and I absolutely lost it.  I cracked up.  I howled
hysterically.  He looked so...

"What?" he said...momentary surprise turning to genuine hurt.  I don't
think he expected me to laugh.  I think he expected me to like it.

My brother Andy...12-year-old drag queen...had gone upstairs to our mom's
room and covered his face with her makeup.  He did a good job, actually.
It was all there.  Foundation...lipstick, eyeshadow, eyeliner.  He looked
like a little circus clown.  It was so unexpected...so sweet...so funny...

"What, Mikey?" he repeated...his voice soft and serious.  "It's not
pretty?"

"Oh, Squirt," I grinned, trying to muffle my laughter through clenched
lips.  "It's cute...I'm sorry...I just didn't expect it...it's
so...different!"

He stood in the center of my room, still naked, arms still stretched out,
looking completely deflated...eyes starting to shimmer with tears because
I'd laughed at him.

I saw the look on his face.  The disappointment.  Slowly, he moved to the
corner of my room.  He sat down on the floor and looked at me with tears
in his eyes.

"I just wanted to look pretty for you, that's all."

He said it softly, and the first tear fell, taking a trace of black
eyeliner with it...cutting a tiny river of gray into his powdered cheeks.
He covered his head in his hands, embarrassed, and hid it from my view.

"Aw, Andy..."

"Now you must think I'm stupid."

It broke my heart, knowing I'd hurt his feelings.  Hurting Andy was the
last thing I wanted to do.

"I'm sorry, Squirt," I said, getting up and moving over to where he was
sitting.  "I didn't mean to laugh."

He looked up at me and this time there were real tears in his eyes.  His
voice was thick with cries...half-sobs.

"I don't know how it works, Mikey," he cried softly.  "You know...being
gay."

There was fear in his voice.  Smart, wise-beyond-his-years Andy.  He
always had the right funny thing to say...but inside, he was lost, just
like me.  Not wise at all.  Just a scared, innocent boy.

I reached over and stroked his hair, which only made him cry harder.
Poor, confused kid.  Had I done this to him?  Pushed him too far...too
fast...?  The weekend we'd just spent together...well...it was a lot to
handle, even for me.  For Andy...it must have been...I don't know...a
whirlwind of confusion.

"Andy, Andy..." I whispered, drawing him into my arms and letting him cry.
"I'm so sorry, Squirt.  I never meant to do this to you."

He looked up with pain and confusion.

"You didn't do this to me, Mikey!  Jesus, don't you get it?  LIFE did this
to me -- I LIKE what we do -- I WANT what we do!"

He sobbed and I held him.

"I know it's what I am!" he cried.  "I just don't know how to do it all
yet!"

Right and wrong.  How we had to be.  How many times had I asked myself the
same, frightening questions this weekend?

"Oh, Squirt..." I whispered, wishing I could take the questions away.

"I thought this is what gay guys are supposed to do," he sobbed.  "How the
hell should I know?  I thought...you know.  One gets to be the guy, one
gets to be the girl.  I just wanted to make myself look good for you.  For
when we did it again. I wanted to make it...you know...special."

I walked to my bathroom and got a washcloth.  I ran it under warm water
and came back to him.  I gently started to wipe the makeup off his face.

"You are special to me, Squirt.  Everything we've done this weekend has
been special.  Everything.  I can't tell you what you've done for me.
Inside.  In my heart."

I kissed his forehead.  Smeared off the powder.  Smeared off the lipstick.
He winced and crinkled his nose up when I pressed too hard.

Then his eyes went numb again.  He stared at the floor.

"So, if this isn't what gay looks like," he asked sadly, "what is?"

So many questions.  And I was too young to answer them.

I paused.  I felt as lost as he did.

"I'll tell you what it isn't," I told him gently, trying to understand it
myself.  "It isn't pretend."

I continued to wipe his sad face.  He brushed my hand away, annoyed.  I
finished quickly.  I held him by his shoulders and looked in his eyes.  I
did know one thing.

"You don't ever have to be somebody you're not -- just to make yourself
better for somebody else."

His face was clean now.  I held the washcloth out and showed him the
smudges.

"You're not in here," I said, showing him the stained washcloth.  "You're
in here."  I held up his hand and placed it over his own heart.  "That's
what being gay is. That's what being ANYBODY is.  It's in here.  It's
always in here."

He tried to smile.  His lip trembled.

"I don't have to be a girl to make you love me more?" he whispered
innocently.

"No." I answered, smiling.  "I couldn't love you more if I tried."

He smiled.  Not so sad anymore.

"You just have to be you, Andy.  That's all you ever have to be."

He wrapped his arms around me and hugged my neck, resting his head on my
shoulder.

"I love you, Mikey."

"I love you, too."

We sat on the floor.  I rocked him in my arms.

"You're so young," I whispered, stroking his hair.  "You don't know who
you are yet.  Nobody does.  But if you're gay...it doesn't change who you
are inside.  You don't lose your manliness just because you let another
man love you.  I don't think it works that way, Squirt."

My words were confident.  Soothing.  But truthfully, I didn't know either.
There was so much to learn.  What did I know, after all?  I was still a
boy, too.  Older by four years...? Maybe on the calendar.  But not in my
heart.  In my heart, I was just as scared as he was.

But he looked at me with trusting eyes...a glimmer of understanding.  So
young to have to worry like this.  I brushed a tear from his eye and he
hugged me.

"Love me, Mikey.  Let's forget all the hard stuff, okay?"

His eyes were pleading.  His soul was open.

I carried him to my bed and I laid him down and we kissed.
____________________________________________________

I made love to Andy very slowly then...a sad, sweet dance on that
wonderful first weekend when our parents were gone and we finally
discovered how deep the bonds of our brotherhood could take us.  Not just
physical.  Something deeper.  Something lost and private and wonderfully
lonely.  Something our spirits shared.

He sighed contentedly as I entered him.  There was no wincing pain this
time, no shuddering or stopping.  I took my time with him.  Loved him
gently.  Made him ready for me.  Made him feel good.

I held him in my arms as I slid in and out of him -- I kissed his face --
I whispered how much I loved him.

I wanted him to know that this sweet, soft surrender he was giving me was
so important...so beautiful.  It wasn't submission.  It wasn't dressing up
and pretending.  It was love.  And it was making love.  As sweet and as
tenderly as both of us knew how.

The day dimmed slowly into night, with Andy in my arms, moaning gently as
I loved him....his eyes wide open, locked onto mine.

He held my hand and squeezed my fingers tightly as we loved each other
tenderly, rocking in and out, wishing it would never end.

I closed my eyes and came in him.

He whimpered softly, pulled me into him deeply.  Called my name out.
Shuddered.

"I love you, Mikey," he whispered through tears.  "Don't ever leave me."

"I never will," I promised him.  "Never."
___________________________________________________

END OF PART 2
TO BE CONTINUED