Date: Sat, 28 Jan 2006 00:29:10 -0600 From: Xtreme17nc13 <hazarchy7@hotmail.com> Subject: More Specific Summary: "I hear them. Every Friday night, it's the same thing..." Disclaimer: They're mine, all mine! Well, they're mine since I changed the names. Does it count if they're real people I know? Warnings: M/M, Slash, Inc, SoloM (Some Het and M/F) -- Don't like, don't read, don't flame. THIS WORK OF FICTION IS MEANT FOR THOSE OF YOU THAT ARE 18 OR OLDER! PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU SHOULDN'T BE!!!! Author's Note: Well, this was written after me and my friend did something that was basically illegal and creepy. It started out as basic shower smut, but then it took off on it's own. No shower, but there is smut! More Specific I hear them. Every Friday night, it's the same thing. I can hear them through the wall. My bed and Kyle's bed are opposite eachother with a thin wall separating them. I can hear his head-board knocking against the wall. It's rhythmic and would be soothing if I didn't hear the moans and gasps that came with the rhythmic smacking. I'm already nude. My boxers are down near my feet and my shirt is crumpled up next to me. I guess it's a good thing that Kyle and me have rooms on the first floor and not the second. If that were the case, I'm damn sure that mom and dad would hear the things that go on under their very noses. And I'm damn sure they wouldn't approve, considering every good Catholic is supposed to wait until marriage. I guess Kyle didn't get the memo... "...Kyle... Yes..." I hear Jenna gasp and my cock hardens slightly at her breathy voice. The sound is followed by a low groan that I just know is Kyle's. I fully harden at that. I guess when it comes down to it, Kyle and me are both some of the worst Catholics ever. He fucks basically anything with two legs and tits; and I get off while listening to him do it. If anyone were to ever ask me about it, I have a perfect speech planned out, "He fucks some of the hottest girls around. If you heard what those girls sounded like, trust me, you'd jack-off to it!" This such a complete and total lie. I'm not interested in what the girls sound like. It's my brother's deep, guttural moans that really get me going. And right now, I can hear them. Kyle is groaning a lot now. After listening to him screw slut after slut, I've realized that this is how he sounds when he's about to come. I quickly grab my dick and almost subconsciously match the rhythm I hear from the head-board. The pace is fast, and I'm being rough with myself. I can't help it. I picture myself in Kyle's bed. That he's fucking me and not some cheap slut that only wants him for popularity status. I can almost feel him sliding in and out of me. He isn't gentle, he could never be gentle with someone. But I would never want it any other way. I grip my cock until it's almost painful and and slide up and down the shaft. I swipe my thumb over the sensitive head and hiss at the feeling. I'm getting closer and I know that Kyle is, too. The knocking through the wall is getting more frantic, more desperate. It's over to soon, but not soon enough. I hear the deep sound tear it's way out of Kyle's chest, and it's too soon. I spill into my hand and quickly wipe it on the shirt next to me. But I know that it was Jenna, and not me in his bed. It lasted to long for me to deal with. I rollover and try to shut my brain down. I can feel the guilt in my chest and I know it's wrong, but I can't help it. I love my brother, but I want him more than anything. I would probably give anything for just one night with him. I hear his bedroom door open and then the front door open and close. None of them ever stay. I know from experience that he won't be back in his room for another fifteen minutes at least. He always takes a shower and changes his sheets before going to bed. So, it kind of surprises me when I hear a light knock at my door. I debate on whether or not I should say anything, but I don't have too. Kyle is already opening the door and at the moment, I am so happy that I am my side, my back to the door, "Brandon!" Kyle hisses at me. I decide to feign sleep. I would be to embarrassed to say anything to him right now, "Dammit, Brandon! I know you're awake. Answer me you little shit!" I roll my eyes, even though I know he can't see the gesture, "What?!" I hiss in annoyance. "Oh, don't even get all 'better-than-thou' right now. I could fuckin' hear you!" The accusation was easily enough to recognize. Shit. "What the fuck are you talkin' about?" Stay calm, just play dumb and deny everything. He has no proof... "Don't act stupid, you know damn well what I'm talkin' about! You we're getting off while listening to me and Jenna fucking, don't fuckin' try to deny it. I'm not deaf!" I didn't even think to say anything back to that. There was nothing that I could do that would save me. Well, there probably would have been, but I just wasn't in the right state of mind to think of it. "I knew it. You liked the way Jenna sounds, don't you? How she practically begs for my cock. You know, her pussy is no where near as good as her mouth. Her pussy's about as wide as a hallway. Can't even get me off. But she has a mouth that works wonders. She knows where to lick, when to suck harder, ya know?" I colored at his words, and I felt myself harden again. I could have cared less how good Jenna could suck dick. I was more interested at listening to my brother talk about sex in general. "Then again, maybe you don't know. Are the rumors around school true, Brandon? Are you still the lone virgin? Waiting for that one special girl to fuck? Well, news flash, Brandon! Every girl is the same. If she's not using you for money, she's using you to get higher on the food-chain. They're all sluts, ain't none of 'em worth waiting for," the last bit was kind of whispered, like he had been waiting a long time to say it. I pushed myself into a sitting position and locked my eyes onto his, "Then why do you fuck whatever comes along? Why do you give them exactly what they want if they're just using you? Huh, Kyle? Why are you such a fucking man-whore?!" I was breathing heavy by time I was done. This is what I had been wanting to say to him. I saw a smile grace his lips, "Why do you care who I fuck and why I do it?" I knew there was something more to that question, but I didn't catch on right away, "I don't care! I was just pointing out a fact, Kyle." "Hmm," he replied with a slight raise of the eyebrows, "You still didn't answer my question." I sighed in annoyance again, "What question?" "Why, exactly, were you jacking off while me and Jenna were fucking?" he said it slowly, like I wouldn't understand it any other way. "Well... uh... Jenna is... " I stuttered, trying to think of an adequete answer for him. It wasn't working. "Don't lie to me, Brandon. This has nothing to do with Jenna. You want me, and I know you do," I watched as he left the doorway and came closer to me, "You want me to fuck you so hard you won't be able to sit for a week. You want me pounding into your virgin ass and to be at my mercy. You want it so bad, you can hardly think. Am I right, Brandon?" Kyle cocked his head to the side and looked at me. "How... how did you know that?" I stuttered as I swallowed the lump in my throat. Kyle was probably going to kill me for this, but that thought didn't even take away from my painful erection. "Only girls keep diaries, Brandon. And only people that want their thoughts read, keep their diaries, or 'journals', " he cut in before I could say anything, "under their mattresses. You wanted me to see that just as bad as you want me to fuck you right now," Kyle was kneeling beside me on the bed now and all thoughts left my mind. "I... I... " I began before a finger was pressed against my lips. "Shh..." he leaned into me. His lips just centimeters away from mine, "I want it to," it was the smallest of whispers, but I heard, just before his lips crashed against mine. The kiss wasn't loving or tender. It was needy, passionate, rough, demanding, and just so... Kyle. Everything we ever wanted was poured into this kiss. Almost like it was going to be our first, last, and only. God, how I hope it isn't our only. His calloused hands are running down my chest now. Scraping over my hard nipples and I moan into his mouth. The feeling is incredible and I don't think I can handle it as he pinches the sensitive nub between his thumb and forefinger. I arch into the touch and cry out in pleasure. "Mmm, relax..." his hands travel farther down and tease the hollow of my hip. Light strokes and not quite where I need it. My cock is just so fucking hard right now. I need and he knows it. "...Kyle... please..." I hear myself gasp. I would have been humiliated had this been under any other circumstances, but I just didn't care right now. I needed release. "What, Brandon? What do you want?" his lips are suddenly against my ear, whispering and nibbling. Damn my sensitive ears... "ANYTHING! PLEASE!" I scream in desperation. "Heh.. you should learn to be more specific.." suddenly he's off the bed. I look up with confusion clearly etched in my eyes. He throws the bottle of lotion from my nightstand at me and walks out the door. The next thing I hear is the shower running and I collapse against the pillows. Next time, if there was a 'Next time', I would be more specific. -Fin- ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Part Deux (because it's easier to post them together) ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Title: More Specific, the Sequel Author: Xtreme17nc13 Summary: "I guess that being more specific with what you want, really does help..." Sequel to 'More Specific' -- 1674 Words Disclaimer: They're mine, all mine! If this has happened to anybody... well, I consider you lucky but its just coincidence. Warnings: M/M, Slash, Inc,(some M/F) -- Don't like, don't read, don't flame. More Specific, the Sequel Yesterday already feels like an eternity ago. I'd probably give anything to go back and redo what happened. This sucks. My brother is the biggest asshole in the world. Who the fuck does that to someone? Be more specific my ass! He knew exactly what I wanted, and he walked away. If anything, I'd say he whimped out of what he really wanted. Jerk. I mean, damn. He had me at his mercy. He could have told me to suck his toes, and God knows I would have done it. Maybe he just didn't want to cheat on Jenna. I'm not counting on that, considering he changes girlfriends like he changes his underwear. But that could be it. Nah. I know for a fact he's already fucked around on her. It was with some chick from a neighboring town. Maybe I should tell dad that the walls should be thicker... At least then I wouldn't have to hear it all the time. There's only so much my sex drive could take, and listening to that seemed to push the limit every now and then. None of this makes sense. All my questions are just leading me to more questions. Why would he just stop? Did he really want me to say it? That has to be it. Kyle likes sex, any kind of sex, too much to just walk away from someone young and willing. Even if I am his brother. "Dammit!" I curse softly as the questions keep coming. I can't stand it anymore; I have to do something about it. Writing in my journal is completly out of the question. I could just figure it out on my own. Okay, new game-plan: Wait for Kyle to get home from whatever random party he's at, then give him the third degree until I get answers. In my head, it sounds like a good plan. Now I just have to hope Kyle will comply. I take a quick glance at the clock. The red numbers read 10:14. He won't be home until at least midnight. Damn it. I wander out to the living room and settle in for the longest two hours of my life. X--x--X I jolt awake when I hear keys in the lock at the front door. I must have dozed off, considering the clock above the mantle now reads 1:22. I watch in amusement as Kyle stumbles through the door and kicks off his shoes. He's obviously drunk. Well, this could certainly complicate things... "'Ey, Brannen," I have to bite back my laugh as he slurs his words together and he stumbles into the kitchen and grabs a left-over slice of pizza from the fridge. Kyle really is a riot when he's plastered, "Wha'cha still doin' up? Ain't ya sposta be sleepin'?" "Kyle, it's Saturday night, which means no school tomorrow. No, I'm, not supposed to be sleeping. Aren't you supposed to be sober?" I cock my head to the side as I watch his alcohol laden mind process this information. Then suddenly, he's grinning like the chesire cat, "Too true. I should totally be sober! But I'm not, an' its okay, 'cause I'm drunk!" I sigh and mentally store my questions away for tomorrow. He's already acting like nothing happened, why should I bring it up? "Yes, yes you are very drunk. You should probably get some sleep though. Even if we don't have school, mom and dad would kill us if we skipped out on church." Kyle frowns at me and realizes the truth in my statement. We both had to be up, showered, and dressed to go by 9:30, "'Kay, I'm gunna go ta sleep now," he yawns and uses the wall for support as he heads down the hall and towards his room. Then, in the blink of an eye, he's on the ground. The drunken idiot tripped over the step. I move from my cozy place on the couch and help him up. Kyle latches to me like he'll die if he lets go. He'd probably fall again, but I don't think he'd die, "Brannen..." he sighs my name and it goes straight to my groin. Shit. "Yeah, yeah. I got you," I help him to his room and gently lay him on the bed. He relaxes against the pillows and drapes his arm over his eyes. I get up to leave the room, but his hand on my arm stops me, "Stay..." Damn it. Why now? "Now, Kyle. You need sleep, not a baby-sitter," I force out, even though everything inside of me wants to stay. I walk away and I'm almost to the door when he speaks again, "Please?" The word was barely an exhale, but I stop. "Why?" I don't know if he could hear the hopefull tone, but I was hoping he could. "Because I want you here," Kyle says with a bit more confidence . I walk back to the bed, and stop at the edge, "Kyle, why do..." and my words are cut short because suddenly I'm on him. Kyle had pulled me into an overpowering kiss. It was brutal and hair shy of painful. I want more. I kissed him back with as much ferocity that I could muster. "Brandon... yes..." Kyle moans into my mouth and I answer with a deep groan of my own. I grind against him and feel an equal hardness covered by cloth. The friction we created as we crushed our erections together was incredible. If it felt this good with our clothes on, I could barely imagine how it feel if we were nude, "Kyle... clothes off... NOW!" I got out in-between kisses. I feel his hands go to my back at that moment and he lifts my shirt off of my prone body. We break the kiss and he throws my shirt to some random corner, then quickly sheds his own. I straddle his thighs and we undo eachothers pants. I pushed my body up and pulled my pants and boxers off. Kyle raises his hips and I help him out of his jeans. He isn't wearing any boxers and it fuels my desire even more. I crash our lips and bodies back together and were rubbing against eachother like there's no tomorrow, "Brandon, get my lube. Top drawer on the right," Kyle groans and I comply immediatly. I reach for the side table and open the drawer, my lips never leaving his, and quickly search for a tube of something, anything, and I roughly shove it into Kyle's waiting hand. He flips us, so I'm laying on my back and he's above me. I watch with wide eyes as he opens the small tube and our eyes connect. Kyle coats two of his fingers and I move so my feet are flat against the matress, knees bent, and legs spread, "Hurry..." A slick finger circles my entrance and lightly presses in. It dosen't hurt, just feels kind of odd. He has the one finger completly inside and is moving it in and out, then adds a second. He slides the two in and out and scissors them as he goes. And I'm seeing stars. I groan, loudly, and Kyle hits that spot again and again. "What do you want Brandon?" his mouth is against my ear and I have no idea when he got there, but I don't care. I answer his question with a pitiful groan, but that dosen't satisfy him. He presses against that spot and asks again, "What do you want me to do?" "FUCK ME!" I scream and I can feel the smirk as his fingers leave my stretched hole. I feel his cock press against me. Sliding in, slowly. Again, I have no idea when he lubed himself up, but I certaintly don't care either. I groan in frustration and Kyle seems to understand what I want. He slams into me with one quick thrust. I feel so full, but not much pain. The thought of what's actually going on seems to over-ride my brains ability to process any pain at this point. Kyle waits for me to adjust, and I press down on him. Silently letting him know I'm ready. If I was expecting this to be slow and gentle, I was sadly mistaken. Luckily, I would never expect such a thing from Kyle. "Brandon, you're so fucking tight. Shit... you're fuckin' perfect," he punctuates each word with a thrust and hits the spot when he twists his hips at 'perfect'. I'm seeing stars again as he hits that spot. Repeatedly. I know I'm being loud, moaning, groaning. Hell, I'm probably screaming, but I don't care. The only thing on my mind is coming. Kyle seems to understand this and grabs my neglected, leaking cock. He strokes me in time with his thrusts and I'm coming in no time, Kyle's names on my lips. A few thrusts later, I can feel Kyle reach his completion. We're both panting and sweaty as he slips out of me with a soft 'pop'. I'm starting to breathe normally when it hits me. During all those kisses at the beginning, he never even smelled like alcohol. Didn't taste like it.... "Kyle...?" I say softly. "Yeah?" "You weren't drunk, we're you?" It was more of a statement than a question. "I never said I was," I could hear the cocky smirk in his voice. Damn him. "You asshole!" "Oh, shut up," and he's kissing me again. I guess that being more specific with what you want, really does help... -Fin- Author's Note: Okay, I'm not confident in my realistic sex-writing skillz, but there ya go. Hope ya'll liked it. Please let me know if you liked this. Toodlez! --Xtreme EMAIL - Hazarchy7@hotmail.com - please put 'Story' 'More Specific' 'Feedback' or even 'Nifty' in the subject otherwise I won't read it, thanks!