Date: Sun, 26 Oct 2003 04:51:44 +0000
From: Brewster Hardy <brewsterhardy@hotmail.com>
Subject: Ballard Boys Part 7
Ballard Boys Part 7
By Brewster Hardy
The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication
or publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to
which it has been posted, without the consent of the author.
This story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to
person's living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely
coincidental. Moreover, none of the actions of the characters in this
story is meant to condone, approve, or sanction their behavior.
*Chapter 18*
"Here, Dad -- taste it..."
As he recovered from the fleetingly shocking sensation of having
Ian's probing finger exploring his virgin asshole -- brief though the
invasion was -- the heady scent of his son's semen overwhelmed Jerry's
senses. The thick, shimmering fluid overflowed from the boy's extended
fingertips, mere inches from Jerry's lips, as the young father stared,
fascinated.
Turning his gaze upwards -- from his prone position on the warm
beach towel -- toward the devilishly handsome face of this sexually
insatiable man-child, Jerry finally parted his lips to accept the
illicit offering.
As the warm fingers entered his open mouth, Jerry instinctively
began to suck and lick at the potent, youthful man-juice, eyes closing
as he savored the fullness of the taste and texture. He moaned quietly
as a sense of completeness and comfort gradually filled his being. In
his 37 years, he had never tasted another man's ejaculate. Now,
suddenly, it was all he desired.
Ian, perceiving his father's need, reached down with his other
hand to gather more of the semen from where it coated Jerry's abdomen.
Jerry looked up again and stared deeply into 16-year-old's flashing
blue eyes as the boy continued to feed him the life-creating fluid.
All these years, he had sensed he was missing something -- and
now, he suddenly knew he had discovered the truth of the secret
longing.
Of course, it was ironic and probably dangerous that his guide to
the discovery happened to be his own young son -- the fruit of his
loins. Oh, well -- there would be plenty of time to sort that out
later, Jerry thought, as the boy brought the final traces of the
addictive cum to his lips.
"I think that's all there is, Dad," Ian said, his deep voice
reduced to a hushed whisper. "Oh, wait a minute -- I still have some
more here..."
With that, the boy inched forward on his knees -- straddling
Jerry's broad chest -- and directed the dripping, cum-coated head of
his still semi-erect cock toward his father's face.
Jerry simply looked at the thick, heavy organ for a long moment.
It was so very like his own, he thought -- markedly oversized, yet
perfectly proportioned; the lack of foreskin was the only obvious
difference. Fully aware that he was about to cross yet another boundary
-- and strongly suspecting there might be no turning back -- he raised
his head slightly from the ground, and slid his tongue against the
flared underside of his son's cock-head. Groaning helplessly, he gave
himself over completely to his deepest urges -- licking the rich semen
directly from the satiny surface of Ian's penis.
Wanting, needing more, he greedily engulfed the entire head with
his full, wet lips, and began to suck -- delirious as the newly
familiar flavor of boy-sperm melded with the fullness, heat and
ineffable essence of teenaged cock-flesh.
"Oh, Dad -- oh, yeah -- fuck..."
Incredibly, the boy's cock was hardening once again. Jerry began
to stroke the thickening length of it with his trembling right hand,
while his tongue and lips continued their sweet torture of the
broadening, leaking head.
"Oh, oh, oh god..." Ian was whimpering, almost crying, as his
powerful, slim pelvis began to pump, forcing the solid, throbbing limb
deeper into Jerry's mouth. Jerry grasped his son's firm butt with his
left hand, signaling the boy to thrust harder. His mouth now
overflowing with the blend of saliva and fresh pre-cum, Jerry willed
his inexperienced throat to open up and accept his son's youthfully
insistent manhood.
As he felt Ian's fully erect cock shoving deeper into his
yielding throat, Jerry reached down to grasp his own shaft -- suddenly
returned to thunderous hardness.
"O-h-h-h-h-h fuck..." Ian cried, as he fell forward, arms
outstretched, hands splayed out on the warm earth, hips thrusting as
his cock pitilessly assaulted his father's throat.
Jerry -- blinded by tears of ecstasy, tears of exquisite agony --
beat his own raging shaft ruthlessly with a muscular fist, as he
suffered the wondrous torment of Ian's burning, steely rod violating
the tissue of his virgin esophagus. He wanted, he needed, and he craved
the viscous texture of his son's maleness. He longed to be the
recipient of the physicality of that ultimate release.
"Oh, fuck...Dad...I'M COMING...F-U-U-U-U-U-U-U-U-CK!"
Jerry moved his head back slightly, so that the boy-cock no
longer hammered deep within his throat, but, rather, throbbing, filled
his mouth with its impassioned flesh as Ian began to shoot wave after
wave of the seemingly endless ejaculate.
As the taste and scent of his son's abundant fluid overwhelmed
Jerry's senses -- the excess of it pushing past the boundaries of his
lips and moving on to coat his chin and jaw-line and neck -- he barely
heard his own muffled cries. He started shaking violently as his cock
began to shoot its burning cream repeatedly against the velvety surface
of Ian's upturned, flawless ass-cheeks.
It was as if the rest of the world had faded into vague memory,
and all that really mattered was the beauty and strength of this boy --
and the wonder of his sexuality, his taste, his smell, his cock.
As Jerry's orgasm gradually subsided, he continued sucking the
generous cock-head, not wanting to miss even a single drop of his son's
semen. Finally, however, he realized that Ian was no longer thrusting
and shooting. It was over. Swallowing a final mouthful of cum, he
reluctantly released the boy's organ.
Ian turned slightly, and then collapsed onto the ground beside
his father. As they lay side by side, shoulders touching, they both
stared wordlessly up into the star-filled sky. The sounds of their
ragged breathing, gasping, filled the air.
Jerry shuddered, as a residual orgasmic tremor shot through his
body. Ian turned toward his father and draped an arm across the great,
heaving chest, squeezing a muscled shoulder, feeling the heat and the
barely perceptible shaking.
"Ian..."
"Yeah?"
"Ian, I'm going to have to do some serious thinking here..." Jerry
tried to choose his words carefully, not wanting to say anything that
might damage the boy, "I want you to promise me that you won't say
anything to your mother about any of this."
"Of course not, Dad..."
Ian hugged his father tighter, and Jerry moved a hand to caress
the boy's muscular arm where it lay across his chest.
They continued to lay there in silence, listening to each other's
breathing as the sounds of rushing water and rustling leaves played in
the distance.
"I love you, Dad."
"I love you too, Ian." Jerry whispered the words, suddenly very
unsure of himself as the cloak of reality began its unavoidable
descent, darkening his thoughts and emotions.
************
"Huh?"
As Bob's eyes fluttered open in the darkness of the little
riverbank clearing, he felt a brief moment of bewilderment. Then --
raising himself on his elbows, feeling the coolness of green grass
against his warm skin -- he saw Carlo. His breathing stopped for just a
beat, as the dark, sensual beauty of the other boy swept through his
heart.
Carlo, fully dressed, was crouching down on the ground several
feet away, writing on a small piece of paper. He looked up, smiling, as
he noticed Bob's waking movement.
"You were sleeping very deeply; I didn't want to wake you."
"What time is it?"
"It's very late," Carlo said quietly, "and I have to leave you
here, unfortunately -- wet clothing and all..."
Bob -- suddenly feeling very vulnerable in his nakedness -- sat
up, wrapping his arms around his bent legs. "Yeah, I guess your
girlfriend is probably wondering where you are..."
Carlo cocked his head quizzically.
"Girlfriend? Oh!" His face broke into a broad smile. "You mean
Elena." Carlo stood and moved toward the handsome Ballard boy -- then
knelt on the ground behind him, wrapping his arms around Bob's muscular
torso and resting his head against the back of Bob's neck. "Somehow,
Bob, you are even more beautiful right now, in this moment. Now I will
explain something I should have shared with you hours ago -- Elena is
my sister."
Bob -- feeling Carlo's warm breath against his back -- ran his
fingers softly across the arms that encircled him, and began to laugh.
"That's good news for me, I guess..."
"Oh, no..." Carlo was suddenly leaning backward, inspecting Bob's
back.
"What?"
"I'm afraid I have marred your perfection." Bob's back was marked
with bloody welts where Carlo had scraped and clawed at the skin during
the zenith of their passionate lovemaking. Carlo bent his head down and
tenderly kissed the ravaged flesh. "This will heal, but perhaps it will
help you remember me -- for at least a few days..."
"Oh, don't worry. I don't think there's much chance that I'll be
forgetting about you anytime in the near future," Bob said, as he felt
an unexpected wave of melancholy sweep over him.
"Here." Carlo handed him the folded paper. "This is my address in
Rio de Janeiro. I will try to pass through here again on my way back
from Boston, but if I am not able to do that, please write to me and
let me know how to reach you -- please. I will want to see you again,
Bob Ballard."
"Thanks..." Bob, in his growing desolateness, could hardly look at
Carlo now.
Carlo placed his hands lovingly on the sides Bob's face --
cradling the strong jaw, the burning cheeks -- and leaned in for the
most tender of kisses.
"Don't forget me, Bob..." he whispered.
"Never, Carlo, never..."
Bob watched as his new friend gathered up the guitar and
knapsack, and then began to walk away. Beset with an immeasurable
weight of sadness, confusion and longing, Bob lay face down in the soft
grass and slowly drifted back to sleep.
************
It was very early on Sunday morning when Jerry pulled into the
driveway of the Ballard home. Both he and Ian had been virtually silent
during the ride back from Fraser Falls, each lost in his own thoughts.
Now, Ian -- stimulated as always by sitting in a moving vehicle -
- was contending with another raging hard-on. As he helped his father
unload the vehicle, he caught surreptitious glimpses of Jerry's butt
and crotch; the man's tight, worn denims did little to disguise their
contents. Now Ian knew exactly what was in there, and he knew he wanted
more. There was no way, however, that his father would allow him access
to any of that at this point.
He could still taste Jerry's cum, and he briefly toyed with the
idea of never brushing his teeth again -- just to try to keep the heady
scent and flavor on his tongue. Yesterday morning, he had been able to
taste the semen he had more or less stolen from his sleeping brother's
cock the night before. This was a completely new, secret world he was
discovering -- and he liked it. Bob had an awesome cock -- so did
Jerry. They both came in great abundance when they ejaculated. They
both tasted amazing. Jerry's sperm was, maybe, a bit richer -- Bob's a
bit sweeter. The big difference was that Jerry had been an active, if
initially reluctant, participant. Bob, on the other hand, apparently
had no clue. He had shared some pre-cum with Ian on Thursday night, but
-- compared with subsequent events -- Ian didn't really think that
counted for much. Besides, things had been strange between the brothers
ever since that brief encounter.
Right now, however, he just wanted to jerk off to relieve his
aching balls and cock. Standing in the middle of the kitchen, the
morning sun streaming through the window over the sink, he watched as
his father disappeared into the den -- en route to the master bedroom,
undoubtedly. Ian was about to head upstairs to the bedroom he shared
with his brother, when he remembered that this was Sunday morning. Bob
was probably still in bed -- maybe asleep, maybe not. There was
potential there for weirdness, and he didn't feel like dealing with
that right now.
He considered the bathroom as an option, but decided the house
was just too quiet for that right now.
Groaning a bit in frustration, he grabbed his balls through the
fabric of his skintight denim cutoffs, and squeezed them hard. While
dressing, earlier that morning, he had decided against wearing his
jockeys. It felt a little dangerous and sexy, and he had contemplated
the idea of letting his cock "accidentally" slip out against his thigh
during the ride home. Jerry had seemed so lost in thought, however,
that Ian ultimately decided not to push his luck any further.
Now, he lifted his long T-shirt and slipped a finger under the
low waistband of the shorts, sliding it along his blood-engorged cock-
head and gathering up a bit of pre-cum. Bringing it to his lips, he
savored the wonder of his own man-essence. Mmmmm...
OK, now he was just making himself crazy -- and there was only
one sensible solution to the situation. As quietly as possible, he let
himself out the back door, and began to make his way down to his secret
place by the river. He decided not to hurry. Instead, he focused on the
sensations created by the texture of the denim fabric as it rubbed back
and forth against his throbbing cock. Ian loved his big cock. He loved
the feeling of the fabric becoming wet and sticky from the steady flow
of pre-cum. As he crossed the field, he reached into his shorts and
scooped up some more of the fluid directly from his sensitive piss-
hole. Oh, god, that was good. He was half-tempted to jerk-off right
now, but decided again to hold off until he reached his spot -- where
he would really be able to relax and give himself a good work-over.
By the time he reached the riverbank, he thought his cock might
just explode. He was breathing heavily, and realized that he was
perilously close to orgasm. Hold on, he thought to himself, we're
almost there.
Wait a minute -- something was wrong.
Ian stopped just outside his secret wooded clearing and looked
down at the ground where he stood. It looked like it had been recently
trampled on -- or something. Hmmm...
Silently taking a step forward, he poked his head through the
opening and looked to his left.
There, on the grass at the base of the largest tree, was what
looked like the remains of a joint.
OK, somebody else had obviously discovered this excellent
hideaway. That really sucked.
He looked upward, and saw a pair of jeans and a shirt hanging off
some branches. What the fuck...?
Then his gaze wandered to the right, and his heart stopped cold.
There, in the shadows, was some big guy lying face down in the grass --
naked. Naked, and with a fucking awesome bubble butt too -- he couldn't
help noticing. As his eyes adjusted to the relative darkness over in
that area, he saw that the guy's back was covered in red welts, as if
he had been whipped or scratched or something.
Now -- hard-on briefly forgotten and mind racing with curiosity -
- he cautiously tiptoed towards the body. Was the guy dead or
something? Fuck...
Then he saw the tousled, shaggy blond hair -- and subsequently
recognized the unmistakable musculature.
Jesus H. Christ...
Falling quietly to his hands and knees, he crept closer still --
and saw that Bob was breathing. Phew...
Now he was relieved, puzzled, and damn curious. What the fuck was
going on here? How did Bob end up here at all -- never mind naked and
all scratched up? Besides that, what the hell was going on with his big
brother these days, anyway? On Friday night, he had arrived home blind
drunk, and subsequently had passed out -- not that Ian didn't benefit
from that, but never mind. Now, there was this very weird situation...
Ian just sat and stared at his brother for a long time. Even in
this odd scenario -- face down in the grass, arms wrapped around his
head, legs spread wide -- Bob was undeniably a breathtaking beauty.
Ian reached out and gingerly ran a fingertip along one of the red
scrapes on his brother's back. He decided that, whatever the source,
the damage was not permanent. The boy's body would return to its usual
flawlessness in no time -- damn him. Unthinking, he leaned forward and
kissed the broad back.
All of a sudden, his hard-on was reasserting itself. Did he dare
mess with Bob again? There was no telltale smell of alcohol in the air,
so Ian could only assume that his brother was simply asleep -- not in a
semi-comatose state like the other night.
Ian crept around -- positioning himself between Bob's spread
legs. The curve of his brother's firm, creamy butt was luscious. Ian
could almost see right into the crack. He leaned forward, and placed a
hand on either cheek, carefully separating them. Leaning forward yet
again, he lightly nuzzled his nose and lips along this secret, hidden
flesh. Remembering the brief encounter -- unexpectedly gratifying --
with his father's asshole on the previous evening, Ian began to lick
the soft skin, gradually working his way toward the softly pink rosebud
at the center. The warm, rich smells only made his cock throb harder.
When his tongue finally reached his brother's asshole, Ian lost
whatever little control he had managed to maintain. Abandoning all
caution, he buried his tongue in the delicious opening, trying to dig
in deep, deeper, now sucking hungrily at the sweet, pungent flesh as
well. Oh, fuck, this was amazing...
"Hhhhhhnnnggguuuuhh...whhhaaaAAAAAA!"
Suddenly wide-awake, Bob swung around, his beefy thigh knocking
Ian hard over onto his back on the ground.
"OW!"
"WHAT THE FUCK!?!"
"Shit, that hurt..."
"IAN! What the fuck are you doing?"
"Man, you don't know your own strength..."
"What are you doing here?" Bob stood up -- gradually reorienting
himself -- rubbed his eyes, trying to remember where he had left his
clothes.
"Never mind -- what are YOU doing here, naked and all beat up, or
whatever..."
"Huh?"
"Man, you are totally losing it these days..."
"Wait a minute -- what the fuck were you doing just before I woke
up?"
Ian -- still sitting on the ground -- considered the situation
for a moment, and decided that he currently had the upper hand. Thus
emboldened, he said, "Licking your sweet asshole."
"You fucking little creep..."
"Well," said Ian, pointing up at Bob's impressively raging
erection, "It doesn't look like you were minding it a whole lot..."
Bob stood openmouthed and speechless for a moment. What had
gotten into his brother? As memories of the previous evening with Carlo
came rushing back, he shook his head, trying to clear the mad swirl of
confusing thoughts and images from his mind.
His frustration turned to fury, however, as he gradually came to
a more lucid understanding of exactly what Ian had been up to.
"Plus," Ian continued, oblivious to Bob's anger and emboldened
now in what he perceived as a power position, "Isn't that dried cum all
over your chest and neck and FACE for fuck's sake? What's THAT all
about?"
Bob looked down and saw that the boy was right. Shiny patches of
the stuff covered his body -- just like yesterday morning, except this
time he knew from where it had come; Carlo's thick rod had blasted him
repeatedly while Bob brutally fucked the young musician's angel ass.
Suddenly, he was fully aware of his exposed, rigid cock, standing
at attention in the morning air. Ian was not even making an effort to
PRETEND not to stare at it.
Wait a minute -- dried cum, hard-on, Ian -- a brief flash of an
image flew through his head. He willed it to return, focusing as hard
as he could. Yes -- he saw it clearly now -- Ian had been sucking his
cock -- when? Did it really happen, or was it a dream? Holy shit...Friday
night...when he got home after seeing Annette...he had passed out...
"YOU FUCKING LITTLE ASSHOLE!" he roared, and lunged at the
younger boy, tackling him and pinning him to the ground. "WHAT HAVE YOU
BEEN DOING?"
"OW! THAT HURTS! FUCK OFF!"
"I'M GONNA KILL YOU!"
"FUCK YOU!" Ian somehow managed to flip Bob over, and now the
younger brother was on top -- struggling hard to stay there, but on top
nonetheless.
As the two strapping teens wrestled and thrashed about in the
little clearing, Bob finally was able to assert his superior strength.
Flipping Ian over onto his stomach, Bob pressed a knee into the small
of his back and roughly pinned the younger boy's hands together within
his own large fists.
"OK, that REALLY hurts," said Ian, panting.
Bob was breathless as well. "Why the fuck did you come down here
this morning?"
Ian paused for a moment, then -- deciding things couldn't get
much worse -- opted for the bald truth. "Aw, fuck -- I just wanted to
jerk-off in peace."
After a moment of stunned silence, Bob began to chuckle. Then, as
if all the events and tension of the recent days were coming to some
sort of ridiculous head, his chuckle turned to a throaty laugh. The
laughing grew and took over his entire body, and he had to release his
brother -- falling to the ground as he began to shake and convulse with
something approaching hysteria.
"What?" Ian was very confused.
Now Bob was literally screaming with laughter.
"WHAT'S SO GODDAM FUNNY?"
Ian moved to attack his brother once more, and this time Bob was
powerless to resist. Straddling Bob's heaving chest, Ian grabbed the
older boy's thick biceps, and held them to the ground. Bob just kept
laughing -- tears were actually rolling down his face, for fuck's sake.
Remembering that Bob was a little ticklish, Ian leaned down and blew
softly against the side of his neck.
"AAAAAAAUUUUUGGGGGHHHHH..." Bob screamed helplessly, squirming
under Ian's weight.
Ian started to laugh quietly himself, as he stuck out his tongue
and ran the flat, wet surface of it along the side of Bob's neck, up to
the earlobe. Bob was beyond hysteria now -- he almost sounded as if he
were sobbing, while Ian began to suck gently on the soft lobe. Then the
laughter -- or sobbing, whatever it was -- grew even more intense, as
Ian's lips moved away from the earlobe back to the strong neck.
Tenderly, he began to chew and suck at his brother's flesh, licking up
bits of the dried semen -- Bob tasted so amazing -- salty, a bit musky
-- oh, it was good...
Still gripping Bob's biceps tightly, Ian slid his butt down until
he was sitting squarely on his brother's massively hard cock. Even
through the fabric of his denim shorts, Ian could feel the flesh-weapon
pulsing and jumping.
Leaning forward again, he teased his tongue upward along the
sensitive skin covering Bob's ribcage, more of the salty, dried semen
assaulting his taste buds with a fullness of flavor, his warm saliva
seemingly reactivating it, renewing its viscous quality.
By the time Ian reached the nerve-rich sumptuousness of the
armpit, Bob was literally gasping for air, weakening further with each
new assault. Ian reveled in his newfound power as he dug his cum-coated
tongue deeply into the heady paradise of sweat and hair.
"IAN -- O-h-h-h-h-h my GOD - STOP -- PLE-E-E-E-EASE..."
Ian raised his head, and looked into his brother's half-crazed
eyes. He wasn't sure exactly what he was seeing, but he was certain
that he had reduced Bob to a relatively malleable state.
"You want me to stop?"
"God -- yes -- please," Bob barely sounded like himself, his
voice breaking, even raspier and rougher than usual. Sweat was pouring
down his face, and his lower lip was quivering as though he was about
to completely break down.
"What are you gonna do if I let you go?"
"Anything you want -- just please stop it..." Bob was actually
pleading now, clearly not even aware of what he was saying.
Ian continued staring into the astonishingly green eyes that he
knew so well. He wondered just how far he could push this moment.
"OK," he said, "Here's the deal. Before I let you go, you have to
do one thing for me."
"What?"
"Never mind 'What' -- do you agree to do whatever I tell you to?"
Now Bob was staring just as intently into Ian's eyes. Aside from
his still-heavy breathing, he became very, very quiet -- an almost
eerie calm seemed to envelope him.
"Alright, Ian," he said in a hushed tone, "Whatever you want."
Ian squinted a bit as he contemplated his next move, further
studying the surreal perfection of the face and body that was
temporarily within his control -- his idol and his nemesis -- and then
he suddenly knew what he wanted.
"Kiss me," he whispered.
"Huh?"
However, Ian was already there, nose to nose with his brother.
His long, dark, lustrous hair hung like a screen surrounding their
faces, their heads, creating a secret place within a secret place --
separating the two boys from the rest of the world. Their eyes were so
close together, it was as though they could see into each other's
souls. In later years, when reliving the moment, they would both swear
that sparks had flown.
"Kiss me," he whispered again -- and as his lips formed the
words, they brushed against the softly parted lips of his brother.
"Kiss me," he whispered a third time -- and it began, not
tentatively, but as if by divine design. Their mouths joined, the full
lips, the searching tongues, and it was as though they were melding
into one perfect being. Ian released Bob's arms from his brutal grip,
and as he moved to lie on his side in the grass, his brother followed,
the kiss continuing all the while.
Their mouths parted only for a moment, to allow Bob to pull Ian's
T-shirt over his head -- but even as he was tossing the garment aside,
they had hungrily returned to each other's lips. Ian shivered with
unreserved desire as he felt his brother's hands skimming smoothly over
the surface of the skin on his back, caressing, exploring the hills and
valleys of youthfully defined musculature.
"Mmmmmmmppphhhhh..."
Ian moaned into the wet warmth of Bob's acquiescent mouth when he
felt his brother's fingers slip down to the waistband of his denim cut-
offs, unbuttoning, now unzipping. Suddenly, warm, strong hands were
making love to his sensually arching buttocks, the kiss never ending.
His achingly erect cock and overripe testicles finally sprang free from
their confining restraints, slapping resonantly against Bob's hot, iron
shaft.
As he kicked the shorts off his feet, Ian had a moment when he
was fully aware that the balance of power had shifted once again -- Bob
was running the show -- but he didn't care. This was better than any
fantasy...
"Oh -- mmmmmmm..." Bob pressed Ian's head to one of his large
nipples, and Ian chewed and sucked on that tender man-meat as he felt
the tissue becoming firmly erect. Then Bob moved him to the other
nipple, and Ian attacked that with his teeth and lips as well, roughly
manipulating the flesh until it was almost raw, causing Bob to cry out.
"AGGGGH!"
With both hands, Bob pulled Ian's head away from his chest, and
guided it down to his pre-cum streaming cock.
"This is what you really want, isn't it?" he asked, a little
gruffly.
"Oh, yes..."
"Yes what?"
Ian looked up, puzzled for a moment, and then he got it.
"Yes -- PLEASE -- sir."
"Not yet," Bob said, smirking, clearly beginning to enjoy the
game. "Not until you lick me clean."
Not needing to be asked twice, Ian buried his face and tongue in
Bob's chest -- determined to swallow every trace of the crystallized,
caked sperm. He licked every square inch of his brother's golden torso,
cleaning out the concave navel, redefining the clearly delineated
abdominal muscles with his searching tongue. He mouth-scrubbed the
broad, warm pectoral muscles and moved back up to his brother's thick
neck.
As his mouth filled and his senses whirled with the ambrosial
qualities of the semen, it occurred to him -- for the first time --
that this was not Bob's cum.
As his lips swept the last traces of the stuff away from his
brother's handsome face -- kissing and sucking at the soft, fragrant
skin -- Ian wondered whose man-seed it might be.
Finally, he returned to Bob's parted lips -- and as his tongue
entered his brother's mouth with its offering of thickened,
concentrated fluids, as his brother in turn attempted to absorb and
consume the abundant flow, he was suddenly certain that they were
sharing another man's life-essence.
"Bob..."
"Shhhhhhhh..."
"Who...?"
"Shhhh...later..."
Bob's tongue was deeply penetrating every crevice of Ian's cum-
coated mouth, as if searching for something. Ian happily opened himself
to his brother's attentions. This moment was already far beyond
anything he had ever dared hope for.
Bob pulled back, staring deep into Ian's eyes. Returning the
intense look, Ian saw something that he didn't recognize -- a haunted
quality, perhaps, or some deep pain. Wow -- maybe something really was
fucking up his brother...
"OK, Ian -- do it now..."
With that, Bob grabbed his younger brother by the shoulders --
moving him into position -- and Ian was suddenly inches away from the
longed-for shaft, close enough to smell it, close enough to taste it,
close enough to worship its magnificence.
Without thinking, Ian gripped the powerful tool with both hands,
and guided it into his mouth, whimpering weakly in absolute ecstasy. As
his mouth filled with the engorged flesh and steadily flowing pre-cum,
he said a silent prayer of thanks. Bob's cock tasted even better than
he had remembered from the other night. He sucked and slurped sloppily
as he felt the hot blood coursing through the massive column. He felt
Bob's eyes on him, as he blissfully serviced his brother's manhood.
Suddenly, Bob was pushing him away.
"That's enough of that."
"NO!" Ian flailed his hands wildly, as he tried to regain the
prize. It WAS NOT enough; he needed more -- much more. "Please, Bob..."
Now Ian was kneeling naked in the grass -- his own huge,
painfully aching erection silently screaming for release -- pleading
with his brother, who stood tall before him. Bob's cock, slick and
gleaming with spit and pre-cum, was still only inches away from his
face, but Ian didn't dare touch it without his brother's permission.
Instead, he just knelt there and stared at it, mesmerized, as it pulsed
and throbbed, tremulous with hot, pumping blood, reaching skyward,
rock-hard and iconic in its perfect symmetry.
"Please, Bob," he begged, "please -- sir..."
"Get on your hands and knees."
Ian moved his long-limbed, sinewy frame into position swiftly --
desperate to please his brother, longing to feel the heat and power of
the great shaft once more. Awaiting further instruction, he bowed his
head downward in obeisance, his mane of shining, silken hair almost
completely obscuring his face.
As Bob moved around behind him, Ian held his breath -- wondering
what his brother was thinking. Then, he felt hands parting the mounds
of his firm, young buttocks, and the slight breeze as it cooled his
newly exposed, virgin asshole. Then, it was flesh against flesh, as he
felt the sweetness of his brother's wet tongue begin to circle the tiny
hole. A tremor of complete pleasure flowed through his body, and he
allowed his upper torso to simply collapse to the ground, face in
grass, arms and hands and fingers entwined in the tangled curtain of
hair. He instinctively arched his butt upward, encouraging his
brother's exploration, wordlessly offering up complete access to his
inner being.
Bob's tongue was suddenly inside the secret opening, washing the
satin inner walls with saliva. Ian felt, rather than heard, his
brother's guttural moaning. Now, gentle fingertips were pressing the
muscled hole to open wider -- as the tongue sought even deeper entry.
The liquid massage was sending ripples of untold pleasure throughout
Ian's young body. He gasped as he felt a thick finger slipping in, next
to the tongue.
"Aaaaaaaaw -- fuuuuuuuuuck -- yessssss..."
Then the tongue was gone, only to be replaced by another finger -
- or was it two? He felt his asshole being gradually stretched -- it
felt like nothing he had ever known -- magical, amazing -- he had to
remind himself to keep breathing. He heard his brother spit loudly, and
then four of Bob's saliva-soaked fingers were inside him, moving slowly
in, slowly out, in, out, deeper each time, as if they were reaching
into his very core.
"Oh, Bob -- oh my god -- oh -- Bob -- oh..."
Wordlessly, Bob slipped his thumb in amongst the fingers --
turning his hand -- ever so slightly -- clockwise. With his other hand,
he reached underneath his brother and gathered a fistful of pre-cum
from Ian's pulsating, streaming shaft.
"Oh, oh, oh fuck..."
Ignoring his brother's cries, Bob spread the abundant fluid over
the remaining exposed flesh of his fist. With his hand now glistening
and slick, Bob began to push inward again, deeper...
"JESUS -- FUCK -- O-H-H-H-H-H-H-H FUUUUUUUCK..."
Ian bit into the flesh of his own hand to keep from screaming, as
the shock of this fresh invasion thrust him onto a new plateau of
physical sensation. He wasn't even sure whether it was pleasure or pain
-- he only knew that it was extreme. For a moment, he thought he might
blackout, but he willed himself back.
"Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh..."
The fist was slowly withdrawing -- very slowly. Ian knew his
tender opening had been stretched unnaturally far beyond its normal
capacity. He didn't care. He wanted more.
"More..." he said, voice broken and raw, "more..."
Regardless, the fist continued its withdrawal -- until, finally,
only three fingers remained inside him. Then they were gone
"More..." he said, pleading now, reaching back with his own hands
to spread his flawless, 16-year-old butt-cheeks wide, needing to feel
the fullness again, "more -- please, Bob..."
"Here, Ian -- here it is. Can you feel it?" Bob finally spoke
again, as he forced the fluid-drenched, blood-engorged head of his cock
into Ian's newly ravaged asshole.
"Oh, god -- yes -- oh, god -- yes -- more -- please..." Ian pushed
back hard, forcing his brother's shaft to slip further inside him.
"OK, Ian, if that's the way you want it..." and Bob pulled back
slightly, then -- with all his considerable power -- drove his brutally
erect man-rod fully into his brother's fragile, liquid-velvet channel...
"GGGGHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!"
Ian's agonized scream filled the morning air. Bob instantly clamped his
fist over the boy's mouth to muffle the cry.
"Gggggggmmmmmppphhhhhhhh!!!" Ian was stunned. Nothing had
prepared him for the sheer force of this invasion. The mass of his
brother's cock was too much.
"More? You want more?" Bob was whispering into his ear now, as he
withdrew his cock almost completely, and then drove it back in with
full force.
"Bbbbbmmmmmmmmppphhhhhhhhmmnnngggggg!!!" The terror and the pain
were all encompassing. Oh, god, he thought, I don't want to die - don't
let Bob kill me...
"More?" Mercilessly pile driving his murderously thick shaft into
Ian's tender young flesh, Bob was fucking his brother without thought
or care.
"Shhhhhfffmmmmmmmmmmmnnnnngggggggpppphhhhh!!!" Ian bit hard into
the flesh of his brother's hand. He bit down so hard that he broke the
skin, and tasted the blood as it spurted into his mouth.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIIIIIGH!!!"
Unexpected agony seared through Bob's awareness, just as the first
volleys of hot cum blasted out from his bludgeoning cock-head, further
ruining his brother's innocence.
Ian sucked ravenously at the flowing blood, as his own burning
torture suddenly diminished -- in its place, there was a mounting flame
of unimagined ecstasy. Suddenly, he was deriving only a bottomless
pleasure from every inch of his brother's plundering sex-weapon.
"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK MEEEEEEE!" he bellowed, the moment Bob tore
his hand away. As Bob repeatedly slammed his pelvis against Ian's
supple butt, seemingly driving his cock ever deeper, shooting his
burning semen again and again, the younger boy visualized his insides
filling up with the copious fluid.
"HARDER!" he roared, his head swimming in a sea of oversaturated
scents and sounds and tastes. His molten insides were now craving the
assault, even as he wondered if the viciously hammering, shooting rod
might split him in two -- he almost wished it would.
"Hugnh..." he heard Bob grunt, and there was a final thrust, and
then the great body collapsed, knocking them both to the ground -- Ian
flat on his face, Bob still on top.
Ian felt the still-hard cock -- still buried deep within him.
He felt Bob's hands, as they gently stroked the sides of his
torso, moving into a tender embrace.
He felt his brother's still-unsteady breathing against the back
of his neck.
"You bit me." Bob stated, matter-of-factly.
"Oh, yeah? Well, you FUCKED me."
"Hmmm -- point taken."
"I wanted it, you know."
"What?"
"Your cum -- I wanted to taste it -- in my mouth."
"Oops -- sorry."
"Yeah, well, I guess you're probably feeling pretty bad right
about now."
"Well, you should have said something."
Ian twisted his head around and, one elegant eyebrow arched,
looked at his brother askance.
"Right, OK, sorry again..."
Ian wasn't really complaining at that moment. The sensations
derived from the positioning of Bob's cock -- still buried deep within
him -- were intensely pleasurable and, having not yet cum himself, he
was thrilling to every slight nuance of movement.
"I've got an idea," Bob said, and he carefully began to withdraw
his still fully erect shaft.
"Hey! Don't do that! I like it in there!"
"Trust me. You're gonna like this -- don't move..." Once he was
completely out of his brother's moist, rosy asshole, Bob moved around
until he was sitting on his haunches -- directly in front of Ian's
face.
"Oh, yeah..." Ian reached out and pulled the cum-covered shaft to
his lips.
"Oh, yeah..." Ian rapturously licked and slurped his way along the
full length and breadth of the organ, deeply inhaling the astonishing
blend of smells -- his brother's semen and his own ass. He wrapped his
lips and tongue around the full head and sucked -- gently, but deeply -
- until he knew he had swallowed every bit of it.
"Oh, yeah -- thanks, bro..."
"You want more?"
"Huh? What do you mean? I mean, yeah! How?"
"Don't move."
Bob moved back around behind Ian, between his long, strongly
muscled legs. Bending forward, he placed his hands on each exquisite
globe of the boy's buttocks -- lovingly separating them, exposing the
pink rosebud once more.
As he had suspected, his warm semen had begun seeping out of the
tiny hole, making a creamy little river as it flowed down to Ian's
tightly contracted balls -- hmmm, little bro is ready to blow, he
thought. Bob's own cock was still ragingly hard, and the thought of
what he was about to do turned him on immensely.
Leaning in, he began gathering up the treasure with his tongue,
being extra careful not to swallow. Once he had collected all the
visible fluid, he moved to the source -- pressing with his tongue until
the little pink hole opened up, releasing more of the fresh sperm.
The taste of his own cum and bittersweet essence of his brother's
asshole caused his balls to tighten and his shaft to start throbbing
once again. He could hear Ian moaning as his tongue worked its way
inward, until it could reach no further.
Mouth full of cum and ass-juice, Bob moved to Ian's side and
grabbed his shoulder -- flipping the boy over onto his back.
Ian looked up at his big brother questioningly, while Bob lowered
himself until their two torsos were joined -- chest-to-chest, nipple-
to-nipple, ribcage-to-ribcage, pelvis-to-pelvis, cock-to-cock.
Ian could barely breathe as Bob's lips moved toward his. His cock
began thrusting wildly against Bob's -- he had held his orgasm at bay
for so long now. His mouth reached for Bob's, and -- as the older boy's
lips parted -- the rush of fluids blended with tongues and lips,
finally driving Ian over the edge.
It was almost painful, the feeling of his excessively distended,
frustrated cock finally discharging its pent-up fluid. As he savored
and swallowed his brother's mind-spinning offering, his body convulsed,
bucking and jerking wildly. Somewhere on the periphery of his
consciousness, he was aware that Bob's cock was exploding too.
The bodies of the two young brothers, joined at the mouth,
thrashed together violently in a wildly abandoned dance of mutual
orgasm, thumping, banging, bruising each other mindlessly.
When it was over and little remained but two shuddering, gasping,
semen-covered bodies, Ian slipped a finger between their torsos --
scooping up a bit of cum. His? His brother's? At this moment in time,
that question seemed inconsequential.
His eyes twinkled as he brought his finger to the older boy's
lips.
"Here, Bob -- taste it."
Raising himself on his elbows, Bob looked down at his brother,
and -- crookedly smiling -- shook his head at the sheer nerve of the
crazy kid.
Then, he parted his luxuriantly full lips -- and welcomed the
gift.
...to be continued.
Thank you all for waiting so patiently. Thank you, also, to the many of
you who have sent the great messages of appreciation. Your thoughts and
feedback are important to me.
All the best,
Brewster Hardy
brewsterhardy@hotmail.com
************