Date: Fri, 8 Jul 2011 19:01:51 +0200
From: Mark Gouwen <lthawk34@xs4all.nl>
Subject: Symmetry part 6

Jamie and Ste are 15 yo brothers but they are also more than brothers.
They are one. Or, at least, they used to be. Several years ago, Jamie took
their intimicay too far and they broke into fragments. Still nursing their
hurt two years later, they'll have to do something or be overtaken by the
facts.

Category:  gay male / highschool

Part 6 of a series

LtHawk

==========================================================

                             Symmetry

                              Part 6

                            by Sandboy


The idiot laughed so hard he fell out of the tree.

I was on top of him in a flash, tickling him everywhere,
reprimanding the worst joke ever.

Asymmetry. Me on top. I should have ... before the break I would
have ... "the break", it means that night, when it broke, and it
means the gap from then 'til today when we start to heal ... before
the break we would have rolled over and tickled the other way, and
over, and over, and over, and over. Symmetry.

The tickling stopped. I had been on top throughout. We beamed
happily into each other's eyes, but there was no roll. I felt the
memory of my aching ass from the night of the break and the days
that followed. My ass was smaller then, but still. My 15yo asshole
twitched and groaned at the memory, and instinctively tightened in
self-defence. It remembered the hurt. There would be no roll. I'd
stay on top.

But he's still me. I'm still him. We're just hurting in different
ways.

And now we're healing.

I wanted to kiss him. Right there on the lips. Right there.

I didn't.

Maybe later.

Our eyes connected. One.

-----------------

Action movie ending at eleven thirty? "Not a hope, after how you
disrespected your mother today!"

And so to bed, on the first day of the healing.

Ste was ready, willing, keen, offering. I was ... the same, but
just the tiniest hint of cautious.

We undressed as we had always done, without a break.

Ste lay diagonally across the bed on his side. It was the position
we used every night for our entire lives before the break - but not
at all these last just-over-two-years. He was just slightly curved,
just slightly coy. He was fully erect. He looked at his toes, then
at me, then at his toes, then at me, pleading, hoping, expecting.

I sighed, and smiled awkwardly, and felt myself filling up brim-
full with *us*.

My flaccid cock twitched just a little.

I lay down next to him, my eyes, face and lips by his toes; my toes
by his eyes, face and lips.

I sighed. It felt like home. My earliest memory: like this with
Ste. Us. No division between us. One.

I kissed the middle of his row of toes, and felt the lips on my
feet.

My he's grown. We've grown. I've grown.

The aromas struck me hard, like a flashback - except that in
dragging me back just-over-two-years and beyond, way beyond, they
also thrust me forward to now. It was the aroma of us. It was the
aroma of the end of a hot summer day. But it was also the aroma of
years having past, of having grown ... the aroma of ... teen? of
puberty? The break was from twelve to fifteen...

I ran a nostalgic fingertip along the arch of his sole. Moist.
Soft. Fingerprint. Larger. Rougher. I felt the finger on my sole.
Larger. My cock was filling slowly, responding.

I kissed the ball of his foot, and felt his lips on mine. The
flavours were like a power-shot of the aromas.

I ran my tongue around the big toe, felt the tongue on mine, took
the toe into my mouth ... larger ... sucked a little. Potent. I
felt the warmth and moisture and softness around my toe, and in my
mouth. I felt the tears running down my face, and the judder at
both ends (mouth and toe) as we began to cry. I kissed toes in
sequence, and massaged feet with my hands. My own feet were
surrounded with moisture and warmth. I was fully erect now. The
tears flowed. Hands, feet, lips, tongues, toes, tears, erections.
With hands and lips and tongues and tears still focussed on toes
and feet, we ejaculated massively. I felt cum running down thighs.

We used to chat during the examen. Not today. We used to spoon once
it was over. Not just now. It wasn't over. Or I wasn't ready for
something else. Or something. I just wanted to hug those shins-
ankles-feet. I felt arms moving around. We were all embraced,
washing feet with our tears, cum running down thighs.

Two mouths, one voice: "Thankyou" ... and in response, more tears,
and holding tight, and never again letting go.