This is a mobile proxy. It is intended to visit the IOMfAtS Story Shelf on devices that would otherwise not correctly display the site. Please direct all your feedback to the friendly guy over at IOMfAtS!

Discovering Brazil

by Zustara Orur

A story (C) 2002/2003 by ZUSTARA ORUR. Contact address: 2.0 May not be redistributed, commercial use prohibited!

English is a second language to me, so please excuse any goofs present herein regarding grammar, spelling. I try to do the best I can!

Legal mumbo-jumbo BS: this story features explicit descriptions of sexual acts between consenting male youths. The story is fictional, and only took place in my mind. If this sort of thing bothers you; you are under-age (and anybody cares about it); reading this story happens to be illegal wherever you may be right now; etc, please STOP READING. I won't get in trouble, but you might, who knows. If all is hunky-dory, feel free to continue, if that is your wish.

Also note that this is a real STORY centering around love rather than sex, those mainly interested in long descriptions of copulation and such may want to look elsewhere.

SPECIAL DEDICATION: My love and sincerest gratitude goes out to Dwayne, Pointblue, Daniel, Caeru, Blue, Taryn, Leonard, Warp1, Ryan, Ratatosk, Michael, Odius, Squidsgerbil, Tamsyn, Maxy and Genesis, all of you listed in reverse order of appearance, just to be a bit different. *Grin!* Special thanks to Jalaki for approving my posts in a prompt and regular fashion, my close friend IOMfAtS for looking over my stories and hosting them on his incredible website and finally, Comicality for having created the Library forum. Visit it at, read a story and give an author some comments. We all love it, please come and share the fun!

Chapter Twenty - Nate's Loss, Brazil's Loss:

Afternoon came, we had to go home. Dad was there, and he seemed very concerned. The police had called to his store asking about some Dorian kid he said, he'd added two and two (like the police had done after hearing the message dad had left on Brazil's aunt's answering machine). We became rather terrified at first because we thought they were asking for him regarding those clothes he'd snatched the other day but it turned out it was regarding his aunt. She'd been arrested, and agents from the IRS were at the house going through all her stuff! Naturally, they needed to talk to Brazil as well, arrange stuff they said, so dad told me to follow and make sure he was okay. He really HAD to go back to work, he was really sorry, but it couldn't be avoided.

We went on my bike, Brazil riding behind me, and when we got there there was quite a spectacle. Some media had arrived, because apparently Brazil's aunt was a fixture in the high-society of the city, having dealings with all the 'right' people. The police officers were like, no, his aunt hadn't really been running a modeling firm, it was actually an illegal escort service. Hadn't he known, how could he not know?! Some of the girls had even been underage, poor country girls from the old soviet block of eastern Europe, girls who had been promised bright careers in fashion photography, and instead been turned into prostitutes! Expensive prostitutes, sure, but still prostitutes! Brazil took it all stoically, he didn't say much. He mostly stood there as the IRS people lugged out all the financial records and stuff from his aunt's study, box load upon box load of it which they stowed into the trunks of their black sedans, and all of her computer equipment too, even the printer and speakers.

All the people were getting ready to leave. They told Brazil to sit tight, they had to go for lunch, but others would come soon, including social services and such, they wanted a word with him. The agents and the police got into their cars and drove off, and the photographers seemed to lose interest after that and left as well. As it turned out, we only had to wait like three or four minutes before a new car pulled up on the driveway. A cop car stopped alongside it with two guys in blue, the older, fatter one in the passenger seat slurping a coffee from a paper cup through a straw, holding a glazed donut in his other hand.

A woman and a man got out of the first car, the man hauling along a rather big attaché briefcase from the passenger seat (a briefcase he struggled briefly to close). The woman looked at us, she was neatly dressed with medium-length walnut hair (medium length for a woman I mean), had a nice blouse and a jacket and a skirt that went about to her knees or so. The man had medium blonde, side-parted hair in a neat, 'proper' cut, and wore a knitted pale sweater and beige pants along with a white belt. He tried to dress casually I could tell, but it seemed a little stiff and awkward despite that. They both seemed in their mid-thirties or so, give or take a little.

"Uh, is either one of you Dorian Mottau?", the man said, looking down into his papers as he leafed through them, looking for something in particular it seemed.

"No", Brazil replied immediately. "We were just here waiting for him."

"Do you know when he'll be back?", the woman asked and took a step towards us.

Brazil shrugged absently. "Sorry, he's out somewhere. Look-"

The man started walking around the car towards us. "Hold on a second", he said, casting an eye down in his papers, then one at us. He reached out a hand as if to grab us, but he was like 20 feet away; it was just a gesture. "Hey-"

Brazil quickly hopped up on my bike. "Uh, sorry! I gotta go, promised my dad I'd be home in time for dinner!"

"Kid! Hey, stop that kid!", the man shouted suddenly and started running as Brazil hurriedly pedaled off. The cops set off after him and one - the one that wasn't wearing a 60-pound donut of flesh around his waist - almost caught him, but by then Brazil had enough speed. He went through the gears like a madman, pumping his sexy legs as hard and as fast as he could. The flabby cop considered taking up chase in the cruiser for a second or two, but then rejected the idea. It was too late.

The man and the woman didn't seem too pleased. "You'll let us know when he shows up!", the man said and waved a warning finger at me. "It's not just his aunt getting arrested, he's wanted for theft too."

I stuck out my tongue at them and they both scowled at me but they could do nothing. I walked home as quickly as I could, hoping Brazil would be waiting for me. He wasn't... I called dad, and he was as confused as I was, and almost as concerned! Brazil was on his own, out there somewhere. Probably no money to speak of, no real friends so he'd have very few places to go.

Dad asked me to stay at home until he got back even though I wanted to get out and look for my boyfriend immediately! I knew dad was right though, if Brazil returned while I was gone there would be nobody there to take care of him... I paced all over the house until dad came home, I was both worried and impatient and almost falling apart. When dad came home I just started crying, asking him over and over if Brazil had come by the store or if he'd heard anything of him. Dad was ready to make dinner, but he had to call for takeout to be delivered because I was too upset and distraught; he had to hold me or else I'd start crying again. I begged him to order enough for Brazil too and he did, but when the food arrived there was still no sign of him... I became upset all over again, I went to my room and took the shirt he'd worn the evening before and buttoned it up over one of my pillows. I took it to the couch and sniffled into it as dad watched TV, feeling the faint traces of his scent still embedded in the cloth. It was all I had, so I held it close to me as I fell asleep. Sunday, I didn't want to get out of bed at all except to go to the bathroom. I called the police to ask if they'd picked him up, and when they said no I wanted to file a missing person report, but it was too soon they said. I tried to argue he was just a kid but of course they didn't listen since I'm a kid too... 'Look, we're very busy here okay?', the guy had said to me and then hung up the phone. He must not like kids very much, maybe he was middle-aged from birth or something, what do I know?

Dad finally got a bit annoyed with me around two p.m. when I still wasn't out of bed. First he tried to reason with me but when I just continued pouting and turned over away from him he dragged me out of bed by a firm hold to my arms. I started yelling and screaming to him to leave me alone, trying to break free, but that just served to make him angry.

"Now that's enough, Nathanael!", dad growled back sharply. His voice sounded so harsh I got really scared and fell silent instantly. He started to give me a lesson for behaving so childishly, and that of course made my lower lip to start quivering and tears came instantly after that. Dad grabbed me as I fell to my knees and held me close. "Sshhh, Nate. It'll be okay", he whispered to me, rubbing my back. I was wearing Brazil's T-shirt and bikini briefs and had been sleeping with his shirt over my pillow all night, but I still needed to feel him close.

"Dad... I can't lose him! Not him too, not again...!"

He patted me and held me close, he patted and rubbed my butt too, and it felt nice. It was just what I needed to calm me down, feeling his big safe warm hand on my skin. He kissed my cheek and then asked if I was okay. I nodded, then he went and got a pair of shorts for me from a closet and made me go out in the garden and attack the weeds which had started to rally against us again. He thought I needed something to take my mind off things, and he was right. I hacked and I whacked and I ripped those weeds out, there wasn't as many this time so I was finished much quicker. When I was, dad made me go back inside again so I wouldn't start to burn. I was starting to develop some natural protection from the sun, but it wouldn't be enough if I stayed out too long.

I sat with dad in the couch that second evening until I fell into a restless sleep with my head on his leg. I woke up at around 3 am, feeling him caressing me softly, trying to keep me calm and asleep. I was shaken to the core and when he noticed I was awake, he suggested I'd go to bed properly. I refused, unless it was his bed, and he agreed without too much of a discussion actually. I kept Brazil's clothes on the whole night, thinking if I couldn't touch him at least I could wear him.

Monday morning. I got dad to call me in sick. He knew I wasn't, and he tried to argue with me for almost a whole hour to go to school because sulking and pouting around the house couldn't be good for me he reasoned. He was probably right, but I was simply too distracted. I would have been useless in school, my stomach hurt enough of worry over what had happened to cute Brazil as it was, if I was at school when he came knocking it would have been too much for me! If Brazil came to school (which I doubted he would), he'd see I wasn't there and then he'd come here looking for me I reasoned.

I turned around a kitchen chair so I could look out a window of the house and keep an eye on the street outside, sitting in his clothes with the shirt-pillow in my arms. I sat for one hour. Two hours. After about three hours and fifteen minutes I briefly turned away to pour myself a glass of water, because I was getting thirsty. Turning back I jerked and dropped the glass, it shattered immediately and sprayed water all over the kitchen floor. I barely noticed, because walking up the path to the front door was my boyfriend, and he looked a total mess. I tore the front door open just as he had put my bike up against the wall, raising a hand to ring the bell.

As I saw him, I stopped. I had meant to jump and grab him in my arms, but the state of him was just far far worse than I could ever have imagined. His clothes - or mine actually - were torn, dusty, oily and otherwise dirty. Brazil's beautiful deep honey-blonde hair was caked with mud, he'd tried to get most of it out, but it stuck to his braids and would not come out completely. There was dust and grime on his face, and a dark smear of coagulated blood as well from his nose that he'd tried to wipe away, but lacking a mirror some remained still. His ubiquitous hair band was nowhere to be seen...

"Hi", he said quietly in a shaky voice. He was so scared, it was as if he didn't know what to expect, if I'd hug him or attack him or what! I couldn't do anything, seeing him like that.

"Do you want to come in?", I asked gently. Brazil seemed so hesitant, it was as if he'd never been there at all, as if he hardly knew me even. He made no move, so I reached out, trying to grab his wrist. He shied away, afraid, perhaps thinking I'd hurt him or that he didn't want to make me dirty. Maybe both, at the same time. I just smiled a little and held my arm out at him, and slowly his old instincts kicked back in. His fingers reached for my skin, wanting to touch it, touch me, feel me, hold me.

I was going hard just seeing him, and my hard-on was clearly outlined in his small underwear. Somehow he noticed this in his upset state, because his hand was suddenly firmly clasping my wrist. Guiding him in, we embraced each other and I felt him shudder as his sniffles pushed through.

"I've got nothing!", he said. "Nothing!"

I stroked his back, lower and lower with one hand until it slipped down the back of his shorts, moving the other in small circles over one of his shoulder blades. "What are you talking about, Brazil-cutie?", I whispered, feeling him relax as my hand slid down over his smoothly curving buttocks, settling on one of them, squeezing the big muscle.

"Sh-she took it all. Ev-everything, it's all gone!" Brazil cried as he told me. "She's out on bail and she's... I don't have anything left!"

Suddenly I understood. "Your father's money?", I asked in a quiet voice and felt his nod brush against me. He smelled rather bad, but I didn't care! "Come inside, please. You need a shower, you stink."

He pecked me swiftly. "Actually, I need to use the bathroom even more... I haven't been since Saturday and my stomach hurts."

I giggled. "Go! You know the way!"

Brazil was considerate, he used the spare bath for his needs, and once finished he came out completely naked. His cute dickie pointed out in a semi-hardon, but probably just because he'd had to pee. He seemed too distracted to really be thinking any sexy thoughts. I gasped because his body was again displaying fresh bruises and I just knew his aunt had given him her own special kind of parting gift. I let what little of clothes I wore drop and took my cute Brazil in a light grip, kissing him deeply because he needed it, now more than ever. He smelled bad and he was dirty, but he was still cute, and very very hot. His dickie couldn't decide if it wanted to soften or bone up fully, it twitched against my skin, yet it remained only partly extended, showing again that his sexuality and mine were totally different; all we shared was our love for each other.

It's true, his dickie had never been any kind of indication of how much he loves me. That was only discernible in the way he held me, or rather held on to me. He was gripping me so hard, holding on to my naked body so desperately, as if he feared he'd be completely left alone! I kissed him wildly all over his face and neck, and he just absorbed it. His face was unclean, but that didn't matter, I kissed him, in fact I kissed his breath away! He almost swooned, and when he got his bearings straight again I felt his hardness jab me forcefully.

"That felt good", he admitted with a small smile. "Could you do that again please?" I noticed a faint rosiness about his cheeks under his tan, and as I looked into his wonderful blue eyes it intensified. I grabbed his nutbag in my hand and he sucked in air, his dick jerking noticeably...

"Let's get wet, Brazil", I said and snogged him good, again leaving him gasping for air!

Oh my goodness! My boyfriend was back, I was finally complete once more! Brazil had returned with the piece of my heart I'd given to him, and I could relax as well and just concentrate on loving him and make him feel good. I washed off all the filth and muck and grime that clung to his body and made it fresh and clean again; pure. He told me he'd slept outdoors two nights in a row, afraid to go anywhere in case people would be waiting for him there. Yesterday morning it had rained and the ground in the park where he slept under a bush had turned all soggy, the mud had found its way deep inside his braided hair and I feared it would not come out again so without asking I just started undoing all his cute braids. I collected all the little beads that tipped each single braid and put them aside so they wouldn't get washed down the drain and then unraveled the braid itself. It made his hair get quite a bit longer, and then I washed it all clean again, carefully and thoroughly, using generous quantities of Head and Shoulders shampoo. I don't have dandruff; I just like that shampoo because it has the best lather of all the brands I've ever tried, and it cleanses the hair really well too, without drying it out either.

When I rinsed him off once more, he was like an entirely different boy somehow! He smiled back really shyly, his hair was all wet and in wavy bunches that clung to his face in a really sexy manner! We snogged more, each of us holding a hand on the other's butt, just feeling the love between us flow out of our hearts and into the other as we both experienced the presence of our loved one...

His love was so pure and so innocent somehow, I guess it was because I more or less was a fluke on his instruments, a one-in-a-billion coincidence; the one boy in the universe he actually could love... I made him feel safe, and he made me feel safe.

While we kissed, he told me he'd tried to get back home to pick up some stuff and by sheer coincidence seen some papers left by the IRS guys, including a bank statement showing his dad's life insurance account was completely empty except for three dollars and 47 cents. That was it! He could buy a cheap lunch, and then he was totally broke... Brazil said, it was as if she'd drained the account and left some change just to add insult to the injury, because whatever can you really do with three dollars and 47 cents? Unfortunately, his aunt had been in the house without him knowing it, and catching him going through 'her' stuff made her furious! It didn't exactly help her having spent far more time in jail already than she'd ever expected to, and she took it all out on him, blaming him for her own failures. I cried as he told me of what she'd done to him, and then he held me tight and kissed me better again, just as I kissed him in return, licking his nasty bruises gently with my tongue to try and take away the ache.

"It might buy you a comic book, darling", I whispered in his ear as we yet again lathered each other's bodies up in the shower, not to get clean but just to feel each other as we became slick and smooth. He was crying again, and I meant it just as a joke to cheer him up a little. The scary thing was, there had originally been over a hundred thousand dollars in that account from Brazil's dad's savings and life insurance policy, money that would have ensured the boy would have had a secure financial situation. Where had all that cash gone? Brazil's aunt was apparently as broke as he was - broker actually, she was up over her ears in debt and looking at major prison-time. Perhaps she'd make a good cellmate for Martha Stewart I mused quietly to myself.

Brazil quieted down when he heard my voice. "No... Not a comic book", he said really slowly and thoughtfully. "I know... Or I think I know anyway. Do you suppose it would be enough for a wallet at your store?"

"Darling, I can't take your last few dollars, it wouldn't be right!"

"Hush, Nate. Yes it would! It would be more right than anything. I need to do it, need to feel I can pull my own weight somehow, in some small manner at least. You've helped me so much and I am very grateful for that, but I also need to feel I can contribute somehow, even if it's just by buying a wallet for myself!" He saw I was still hesitant. "Nate, I want it to be MY wallet, I need to know I deserved it, and also, that I deserve you and your friendship... Uh, and your love..."

"None of those things can be bought for MONEY, Brazil!"

He smiled gently. "I know that. It's just for my own peace of mind..." He caressed the globes of my butt, letting his hands slide all over their surface and in between, making waves of heat sweep over my naked skin.

"Alright then. Tomorrow we'll go to the bank and withdraw your remaining monetary funds."

He giggled, finding humor in me making $3.47 sound like such a grand sum. "Maybe we should hire an armored transport in case somebody wants to rob us?", Brazil said, making us both giggle. Then he got serious all of a sudden. "Nate... Have you ever, umm, put your... I mean, uh, up... Um, inside-"

A kiss silenced him and took away his discomfort. "Are you sure about this? I am used to it since I'm, well, queer, but you don't have to. Please, don't ever think you have to!"

"Nate, I think I do have to", he said in a rather determined voice. "Not because I feel obligated to, but because I want to. I want to show you that I love you, love you more than anything, and that I always want to be close to you with nothing and nobody else in between us. Would you let me show you that?"

I held him close and removed the mass of hair that clung to his face as I looked into his beautiful, large green-brown eyes. "Dammit Brazil, you're too hot for words to express!"

He smiled, pleased, before offering himself to me...

Talk about this story on our forum

Authors deserve your feedback. It's the only payment they get. If you go to the top of the page you will find the author's name. Click that and you can email the author easily.* Please take a few moments, if you liked the story, to say so.

[For those who use webmail, or whose regular email client opens when they want to use webmail instead: Please right click the author's name. A menu will open in which you can copy the email address (it goes directly to your clipboard without having the courtesy of mentioning that to you) to paste into your webmail system (Hotmail, Gmail, Yahoo etc). Each browser is subtly different, each Webmail system is different, or we'd give fuller instructions here. We trust you to know how to use your own system. Note: If the email address pastes or arrives with %40 in the middle, replace that weird set of characters with an @ sign.]

* Some browsers may require a right click instead