Real Love Ch 08

Writer's Notes:

'Real Love' is my personal tribute to JammyJimmy's (JJ) story, 'Threads: The Island'. I give JJ credit, because credit is due, for this story and for my own inspiration and entrance into writing. 'Real Love' is actually the first story I wrote, even before 'Tale of Two Teens', my first published story.

As I was writing this story way back when, I was hoping JJ would be the editor. Having been unable to make contact with him, I have been reluctant to release it. Some say JJ has passed away, but I don't know. JJ, if you read this and want this story removed, please contact me. Several readers have relayed to me, both publically and privately, that they would like it released.

Therefore, 'Real Love' is an unauthorized, reimagined rewrite and sequel to JJ's story, 'Threads: The Island'. The general storyline in JJ's story is embedded in this story. Several of the character names have been changed because this is my story. Anyone who has read JJ's story will identify the characters quickly, starting with my main character, Bradley Weber, formerly known as Kyle Watson in JJ's story.

This story is long, but tolerant and filled with several emotions. If you stick with it, you will experience euphoria, happiness, sadness, sorrow and it will make you horny. You'll be disgusted, pissed off, scared and you'll grieve, cry, frown, smile and sometimes, you'll laugh, I hope.

'Real Love' starts off slow, but gains speed with age. Feel free to leave comments about what you like and what you dislike about the story. Feedback is a good thing for those writers who want to know what reader's like and dislike about their stories.

Please don't be mean in the comments because those that put in many hours over a period of several months, and thought into designing and writing these stories don't appreciate it, nor do they deserve it.

I do hope you enjoy the 'Real Love' series. Just don't forget one important detail -- it's fiction. Please do give us 'not so professional' writers a little slack.

JJ, wherever you are, whatever you're doing, fair winds and following seas my friend.

Let the saga of Bradley Weber continue...

MDSW

* * * * *

As Brad lays in bed, frustrated at his inability to sleep, he fidgets, rolls over, tries to get comfortable, but still can't sleep, so he gets up, grabs a pair of shorts and a hooded jersey from the dressing room and goes back to the balcony again. Not long after he sits down, he hears a noise.

"Psst. Brad."

It takes him a moment to trace the source of the loud whisper, then he sees Stacy walking round the balcony from her suite to his.

"How you doing?" she asks.

"Can't sleep," he tells her, as she takes a seat.

"Me neither. I think that's been forty hours now or something," she replies.

"Jesus, Stacy. You should be in bed."

"It's not happening though. I just can't drift off."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I just got back up myself."

She looks at him for a minute, her head tilts to one side.

"Come with me, Brad."

She turns and walks around the balcony, her white track pants and vest top making her easily visible in the dark.

"Come on."

Brad gets up and follows her around the balcony and into her suite, seeing it's similar to his own in layout, but different in its decor. Everything in here is much lighter in color and tone from the furniture to the walls.

As he follows, he begins to get a little nervous, his stomach tensing as Stacy leads him into her bedroom.

"This is my room."

"Yeah. You know it's not a great idea for me to be in here, right?"

"Oh, chill out, Brad. I just want to try something," she tells him firmly. "Remember when we snuggled and fell asleep together?"

He shrugs, saying, "Of course I do."

"Well I'm shattered, Brad," she continues. "Like, I'm exhausted. I haven't slept in two days, I'm jet lagged and I feel ill. I'm desperate to sleep, so at this point, I'm willing to try anything."

Brad frowns at her. This isn't a good way to start things off as brother and sister. Plus, he can feel that hint of nervous excitement at the thought of holding her again.

"We don't have to get undressed, or get under the covers or anything like that. I just want to see if I can get as comfortable as I can and hopefully, fall asleep."

"You're kidding, right?"

To his surprise, her eyes immediately begin to fill up with tears and her hands fly up to cover them.

"I'm sorry Stacy, I didn't mean to upset you," he says quickly. "I just think that the two us sleeping together isn't the smartest thing to do."

Stacy drops her head and, beginning to cry, says, "I'm tired, Brad. I'm tired and I'm all alone here and the only person I know is you. I don't know who I can trust, I'm completely out my league and all I want is to sleep."

Brad takes a couple of steps forward to where she's sitting on the edge of the bed, pulls her to her feet and gives her a hug. He feels her holding him, grateful for the comfort, and after a couple of minutes, she lets him go and wipes her eyes.

"I'll stay for a little while, but as soon as you're asleep, I'm going back to my room," he says, feeling a huge pang of empathy for her, going through all the same crappy emotional roller coaster shit he is.

"Brad, if I can get to sleep, that's all I need," she replies, giving him a little smile.

He nods and walks around the side of the bed, lying on his side on top of the sheets, and Stacy rolls herself in so he's snuggles in behind her.

The smell of her hair and the feel of her against him brings back memories of Myrtle Beach when they were in her bedroom. Brad takes a deep breath and let's it out slowly.

Without conscious thought, they both make small adjustments to accommodate the other. The positioning of a hand, the turn of an elbow. A foot sliding between his, the angle of his hips and her buttocks and within moments, his arms wrap tight around her, her arms holding him in place.

"Brad," she whispers in the darkness.

"Yeah?"

"I've missed this."

"Me too," he whispers back. "Now close your eyes and go to sleep."

She's out within minutes and Brad slowly and carefully slides his arm out from under her, taking a great deal of care to not wake her. Eventually he's able to extract himself from the bed. He lifts the sheet over her carefully, then leaves quietly.

* * * * *

He sits in what is fast becoming his 'usual chair' and lights up, enjoying being back in the darkness when he hears footsteps from his right and spots Peggy on her balcony. He's in two minds if he should say anything to her or not when she spots the cigarette flare as he inhales.

"Brad?"

"Hey," he says softly. "I can't sleep."

"Neither can I."

"Come, have a seat," he offers.

She hesitates for a moment, but then walks to where he's sitting and sits down.

"Sorry about earlier, Peggy," Brad says, keeping his voice low. "I wasn't trying to make you feel uncomfortable or anything."

"Yeah, I know. I kinda bit your head off," she admits. "Sorry bout that. I'm not great at dealing with guys."

Brad catches himself about to point out that she was exceptional at dealing with guys when it comes to the lap dance he remembers so vividly, but he wisely keeps his mouth shut.

"Plus, it's a bit messed up, knowing that your brother has seen you stripping," she adds.

"In fairness, we didn't know we were related then," he points out.

"I know, but still..."

His thoughts turn to Stacy and the things they've unwittingly done together.

"It could have been worse, Peggy."

"Yeah, I could have given you a private dance."

Brad is thinking that it would have been worse if they'd had sex, but now he realizes she doesn't remember she gave him a lap dance that was so hot, it made him cum.

His silence clues her in.

"Oh, fuck. I gave you a private dance?"

"Afraid so," he says quietly a moment later. "If it's any consolation to your professional pride, I thought you were awesome."

"Really not the best time to point that out," she murmurs.

"Yeah, I know," Brad agrees. "The whole thing's a bit... awkward to navigate."

"You think?"

He shrugs.

"I guess."

"When were you in?"

"Spring break, three years ago. You want some details of the conversation we had, see if you can remember?" he offers.

"I'm not sure if I want to remember."

"Okay. Let me know if you do. If it helps. Whatever you need."

"I'll think about it."

"So you grew up in Florida then?" he asks, trying to change the subject onto something that might be more comfortable for her.

"Yeah."

"How was it?"

"Florida?"

Brad chuckles.

"No, growing up. What was your life like?"

"It was good until I turned ten and my mom died."

"I'm sorry."

She shrugs.

"Just one of those things. Drunk driver hit her, killed her instantly. At least it was quick. After that, dad began to drink and things went to shit."

Brad doesn't know what to say. By the sounds of it, she had it rough growing up.

"I left home as soon as I could, but by that time, he lost his job and he didn't want to work anymore. I had two part-time jobs when I was at school, and I used to hide the money I made so we had food and the bills got paid. Otherwise he drank it, or sold stuff."

Brad wonders why their father didn't help her out at that point, or at least, help out her father and get him back on the right path again.

"That sounds like a tough way to grow up, Peggy," Brad says quietly.

"Just another of life's learning experiences," she replies, rolling it out like an automatic response.

"So where did you go when you left home?"

"I went to stay with a guy I'd met online in Chicago, but that turned out to be bullshit, so then I traveled for a few months, doing odd jobs, crashing in my car."

Brad frowns.

"And then you ended up in Myrtle Beach?"

"Yeah, eventually. I was working the bar there and some of the girls were encouraging me to dance. When I saw them doing it a few times and saw the money they made, I gave it a go. The rest you know."

"Did you enjoy it?" Brad asks, genuinely curious.

"Most of the time, no, it sucked. Having old men pawing at you, or guys treating you like shit most of the time wasn't on my list of favorite things to do. Many times it was hard to keep from showing contempt for your customers," she answers.

She pauses for a moment, then grabs his cigarettes.

Brad grins, reminding him of Kelly earlier.

"You don't mind, do you?" she asks, lighting one up.

"Help yourself. I think we can afford them," he says chuckling.

She tilted her head back and Brad is immediately reminded of the silhouette of her, lighted from above as she danced for him.

"Sometimes, once in a long while, you'd get a hot guy, or you'd be having a good night and something would just click. That was very rare though."

"It sounds it," Brad nods, secretly hoping that he was one of the rare ones.

"Plus, working in heels all night long gets a bit tiring."

She smiles a little and Brad realizes that despite the topics they've been discussing, she's actually starting to relax.

"I'm glad we're talking a bit, Peggy," he says. "This is a lot better than our conversation earlier."

"Yeah, you've not been doing too good with the first impressions, Brad," she says, then chuckles. "Get all nervous, falling off the pier, then tell me you've seen me naked. Are you always this smooth with girls?" she finishes, openly grinning.

Brad laughs.

"Yeah, when it comes to girls I generally suck at chatting them up."

"Yeah?"

"Totally. King of the crash and burn."

Her expression turns serious again and she's obviously thinking about something, so Brad keeps quiet, waiting to see what she has to say.

"Brad, I... never mind."

"Go ahead," he tells her.

"No, doesn't matter."

He looks her in the eye.

"I know that right now you don't know me from Adam, but you can trust me, okay? Ask me whatever you want, or if you want to talk about something, anything, you can. I'm your brother and I want to be close to you. Anytime at all, alright?"

Brad sees her nod faintly, then her expression becomes more determined.

"So I have trust issues with men."

"That's hardly surprising."

"Shush," she says, making him grin. "Anyway, I have problems trusting guys and I'll be quite happy not to have to rely on one ever again. I know you're this brother who's appeared out of nowhere and I should try and trust you, get to know you, all that stuff that Rick is telling me I should do, but it's not going to be easy, okay?"

"Nothing worthwhile ever is," he points out.

"Do you always interrupt?"

He shrugs.

"Sometimes."

Peggy rolls her eyes. "Anyway, what I'm saying is, I'll try, but I can't promise I won't... behave like a bitch from time to time, okay?"

"Okay," Brad nods. "I appreciate your honesty."

"You might not in the future... Consider yourself warned."

Brad grins.

"Duly noted. I'll take my chances when it comes to family."

He pauses for a second, considering something else.

"Listen, all three of us, you, me and Stacy don't know what it's like to have brothers or sisters, so we're going to make mistakes and the relationships we have, or end up having, will be something that's going to grow out of trial and error. But, however it turns out, I will still be your brother and I still want to be your most trusted brother."

"That's a cheerful picture," Peggy says, sarcastically, "considering you're my only brother."

"What I'm saying is that we'll make mistakes. At some point you'll do something that upsets me, I'll do something that will upset you. Stacy will do something that'll upset both of us. We just have to remember that we're all new at this."

"Okay," she nods. "I'll try, but no promises."

"That's all any of us can do," Brad agrees. "And on that note, I think I'm gonna head to bed."

"Oh, that's right. Your six o'clock workout."

"Yeah," Brad replies, putting on his glum face. "Hence my unrestrained enthusiasm."

Peggy chuckles and Brad feels a lot happier that they've been able to have a better conversation between them.

"Goodnight, Peggy."

"Night, Brad."

He gets up, moves over to Peggy, kisses her on her forehead and goes into his suite, hoping he can finally get some shuteye.

* * * * *

Another day begins on the Island as Kelly comes into his room to wake him, but stops in her tracks as the vision of his morning wood becomes obvious. She thought it's considerably bigger than it seems from her previous glimpses.

She crawls on his bed, sitting on her legs with her feet hanging off the edge, and she stares at the large tent under the sheet. As she does so, she surmises that it must be at least eight inches long. What a huge cock he has she thought, as she starts to reach for it. Her pussy is getting wet in a hurry. She suddenly pulls her arm back, reacting from a flash of guilt. She wants to fuck him right here, right now, but makes a wise decision to proceed with the reason she's there.

"Morning, Brad."

He feels the gentle hand rubbing his shoulder and recognizes Kelly's voice. He opens his eyes, seeing a hint of brightness in the room from the bedside lamp.

Kelly is sitting on the side of the bed, facing him wearing an oversized football shirt, her hair hanging loose, grinning at him.

"It's six o'clock already?" he mumbles.

"Quarter to," she replies. "Time to get out of bed, Brad. Rise and shine, although I think you've got the rise part taken care of."

Her eyes flicks down the bed at the same instant that Brad realizes he has an erection and is lying on his back, tenting the sheet, just as she predicted the day before.

"Oh, shit. Sorry," he mutters, sitting upright and making sure the sheet covers him.

Kelly chuckles a wicked noise that makes him grin a little sheepishly.

"Told you."

"Yes, you did," he replies as his eyes narrow. "Is that my football shirt?"

"You don't mind?"

He shakes his head, his eyes running over how it hangs loose around her figure.

"Looks better on you anyway."

"Hey!" she says sharply, slapping him on the hip, a broad grin on her face. "You're not meant to be eyeing me up."

Brad shrugs.

"I just woke up. Blame it on me being sleepy."

Kelly laughs and slides off the bed onto her feet, heading back towards her room.

"Get dressed, Brad. Oh, my shower's not working. Can I..."

"Use the one in the other en-suite."

Kelly flinches as if she wasn't expecting that answer.

"Just kidding. Use mine, it's closer."

"Thanks, Brad."

Then she disappears from the room.

Brad sighs, knowing there's a lot worse ways to wake up than by a hot blonde who teases him about his boner, but it certainly takes a bit of getting use to.

He throws back the sheet and heads to the bathroom, urinates and has a quick wash, then drags on some shorts and a top, ties on some sneakers and heads for Kelly's room.

The closed french doors to the en-suite bedroom means he has to use the intercom to get her attention.

"Kelly," he says, speaking into her intercom.

"Yeah?"

"Am I meeting Julian at the gym?"

"No, he'll be downstairs," she replies. "Have fun. See you when you get back."

"Right," he replies, squaring his shoulders he goes downstairs.

He meets Julian and they jog slightly to the gym, then he works him hard. He starts Brad doing some stretching exercises for a few minutes, then puts him on the weight machines, working solely on his arms, shoulders, pecs and stomach.

The increasingly heavy weights burn his muscles and proves to be an agonizing experience, but Julian's unwavering enthusiasm keeps him trying to do one more. Then another, and another until he's trembling with exhaustion.

When he thought he couldn't do any more, Julian challenges him do one more, and when he's done with the machines, the trainer has him on the floor doing crunches.

By the time Julian brought a bottle of water and tells him they're done until lunchtime, Brad feels like he's been run over by a freight train. Even walking back to his suite is a struggle, even though he hasn't worked his legs at all. Brad knows he has to stop smoking, or at least, cut back, a lot.

He stumbles up the stairs and into his suite, heading straight for his bedroom where he face-plants himself on the bed and just stays there a few minutes, but he knows he has too much to do... and he's decidedly hungry.

He kicks off his sneakers and pulls off his top, groaning as he forces himself to lift his arms. As he entered the bathroom to get in the shower, the opaque glass of the shower cubicle turns clear as Kelly opens the door from the inside.

He sees her before she hurriedly closes the door, her legs and that shaven place between them. He sees her taught, flat tummy and her round, full breasts with her nipples tight and hard, jutting out. Her blonde hair, wet and shining like the beads of water on her skin. She has the fingers of her right hand in her mouth.

"Fuck. Sorry, Kelly. I didn't know you were in here," he says quickly, retreating out the doorway.

As the panic left him, Brad frowns as he realizes the shower wasn't running when he came into the bedroom.

"I didn't hear you come in," she calls back.

Brad is standing outside the bathroom, a slight smile on his face as his mind replays the image he's just seen.

"Holy fuck, she's hot," he whispers to himself.

Kelly appears moments later, wrapped in a towel this time, with another around her head, holding her hair.

"Sorry about that," she says quickly.

"No, no, my mistake," Brad argues. "I forgot you were going to use my shower."

They both pause, looking at each other and feeling a bit awkward, until Brad starts to laugh. Kelly joins in moments later.

"Seems to be a day for seeing things," he says finally.