Date: Mon, 21 Sep 2015 15:58:29 +0000 (UTC)
From: John Dean Major <johndeanmajor@yahoo.com>
Subject: Family Bonding Chapter 1

Disclaimer: This story is fictional and thus explores a slightly different
world than ours. Any similarities to real-world people or events are purely
coincidental. The story is also not meant to be social commentary.

Author's note: This is part 1 of an ongoing series. Your feedback on what
you liked or disliked about the story is appreciated and helps me refine
and fine-tune my writing. Comments and suggestions are welcome at
johndeanmajor@yahoo.com.



'We need to tell him today,' you say gruffly as you step out of your
sweatpants. You've had enough. You look into James's green eyes – your
mother's eyes – and see fear. His thick red lips part to answer, but
there is no sound. He's younger; he has more to lose. But you know you
can't do it alone. You need your brother by your side if you're going to
stand up to him once and for all.

'We need to,' you insist. You take off your boxers and place one knee on
the bed, at your brother's side. 'Don't you want it to stop? It's not
right, it's not. It's not natural.'

'Glasses aren't natural,' retorts Jim. 'You wear them anyway. Because they
make life easier for you.'

'What has that got to do with anything?' you snarl at him.

'Maybe this makes life easier for Dad,' he says softly.

Your heart sinks. You've come to the same conclusion every time you've
thought about it. Your Dad loves you, you know that. Everything he's done,
he's done for you and your brother. He works long hours every day so that
you and Jim lack nothing in life. He pays for your music lessons and Jim's
karate. He paid for your guitar; he paid for Jim's 15th birthday party; he
paid for your glasses; he paid for Jim's scooter. And he does it all with a
smile, because he loves you two. You're everything to him.

'We're everything to him, you know,' Jim says knowingly. He adjusts his
body on the bed and spreads his knees a bit further apart for comfort. 'He
doesn't get out because he works so much for us, so he doesn't have many
friends, so he doesn't have hobbies. Aren't you grateful? Don't you wanna
thank him?'

'I am!' you yell and land on your elbows next to Jim. 'I do! I do thank
him, every day! I say thank you and I hug him and I kiss him and
I... I... Isn't that enough?'

'I don't think so,' says Jim, his deep green eyes fixed on yours in the dim
lamplight. 'I don't think it's enough. He's our Dad, but he's also human.
He's also a man. You're not twelve, Dan. You get what that means.'

You let your head hang and straighten your back. The room would be black if
not for the nightlamp. The sheets beneath your elbows and knees are blue,
as are the walls. You grew up in this room. Your bed is against the other
wall. This is Jim's you're on, naked from the waist down like your younger
brother beside you, both your behinds up in the air.

You've had good nights in this room, and you've had bad nights. The nights
when you and your childhood friend Carlos first discovered jerking off. The
nights after Mom died, when you could hear Dad downstairs, drunk and
sobbing. The night when you lost your virginity with Janie Maypole on Jim's
bed – she had liked his sheets more. The night when you and Jim got into
such a heated shouting match over absolutely nothing and he cracked his
fist on the wall. The night when you stayed up with Jim and talked about
his first girlfriend and he told you how in love he was and you felt
horrible because you knew she was cheating on him. The night when he found
out.

You grew up in this room and now you're a man. But, every Friday night when
Dad comes home from work, you feel like a boy again.

You hear the car pull up.

'I wonder why he's late,' says Jim quietly. 'I hope he hasn't been
drinking.'

'Me too,' you say, tired of arguing with your brother. You decide to take
it for one more night and discuss it later. The only problem is, you've
been deciding that for too many nights now.

The car door slams shut a little too loud and you hear the rattle of keys
trying to find the keyhole for a little too long. Jim sighs.

'Shit!' you yell through your teeth and look at Jim. 'We forgot the lube!'

Jim shakes his head and says, 'I didn't. I did it before you came in, but I
forgot to remind you to do it. It's still on the stand.'

You push off the bed and thank God for the carpet in the room. You tiptoe
past your brother's hairless, muscular behind and grab the violet tube of
gel. You squeeze out some onto your left middle finger, put one hairy leg
up on the night stand and reach behind. For the thousandth time, you envy
Jim on his lack of hair as you run your wet finger into the coarse, black
forest surrounding your ass. You touch it and it tightens.

'Bitch, you didn't warm up the lube!' you snarl at Jim.

'I did, it cooled off by the time you got here. Asshole.'

'Fuck,' you swear under your breath. You slide your long finger over the
muscle between your buttcheeks. You make it wet and massage it. The
tingling starts. You bite your lips as you push some of your finger through
your tight asshole and massage your insides. It burns; you take out your
finger and put more lube on. You put it inside you, diligently coating the
walls of your ass with it. You remember how it burns when you don't put
enough of it deep enough. You slide the finger in and out, in and out until
it's easy. You squeeze your ass around it to see how it feels.

You hear footsteps on the stairs. Two, then one. Three, then one. He's been
drinking.

'Come on!' hisses Jim.

You look back at him and see his hole, shining with lube. He has a large,
muscular butt and his legs are thick. He's younger, but he's always been
the sporty one. His ballsack, covered in a smattering of fairy-blonde
hairs, hangs so low it hides his limp dick. You slide some more lube inside
yourself and get your finger in all the way to the knuckle. You take it
out, put some more, and do it again. It feels really good. You don't want
it to feel good. It's not right. It's not natural. You take it out, put
some more, and do it again. There is no pain.

'Dan, come on!' says Jim as you hear footsteps atop the staircase.

You close the lube, store it away, and retake your position next to your
brother, on your elbows and knees, back straight, butt up in the air. Your
heart is beating fast and you feel it pulsating in your ass somehow. Your
black-haired balls hang low like your brother's, but your cock is still
hard from the finger. You should be used to it by now, but you're not. Your
heart keeps beating and your palms start sweating. You lower your head and
listen.

The footsteps grow louder. They are still irregular. He's outside your
door. You hear the doorknob. Light pours in from the hallway. You close
your eyes and slow your breathing. The door closes.

You hear him undo his belt; first comes the metallic sound of the buckle,
then the slow swish of the leather. It drops to the floor, heavy but silent
because of the carpet. His feet make little sound too. You hear his zipper;
you hear the rustle of his cargo pants as he lowers them around his big
legs. You regret thinking of them as 'big', because then you think of his
huge penis and how it feels inside you and your asshole clenches
involuntarily. You wipe your palms on the sheets.

His breathing is heavy and deep. Horny. You can smell the beer and the
cigarettes from the bar. You remember Jim's words: 'He's also a man.' You
wonder why men have to drink, and you remember Jim's words again: 'It makes
life easier.' You wonder why men need sex so badly, why they can't just
jerk off and be done with it. 'He's also human,' Jim intones in your
head. You remember Janie Maypole and the warmth of her body and the feeling
of partnership, of oneness, as you came into her for the first time. You
wonder if that's really how Dad feels too, if that's really why he needs
this, if... if he misses Mom so much that only the warmth of you and your
brother, the fruits of their love, can fill that void. You wonder if you
can really hold that against him.

You hear him slide out of his jacket, hear the contortion of him removing
his undershirt. He's standing there, naked except for his underwear. You
know how he looks there; you glanced back a few times in the early days. He
towers above you and your brother, massive like the two of you put
together, with thick arms and a large chest, a tight, hairy stomach, and
his old black boxers covering his manhood. You saw it once before he took
it out, saw how it jutted out and strained the fabric when it became
engorged. You still feel a mixture of pride and fear when you think of your
father's penis. Other boys at school would sometimes brag and playfight
about whose dad's cock was bigger, but you were always silent, knowing full
well that your Dad would win that contest any day. You knew first hand.

He stands behind you calmly, but you hear his breathing deepen and his
large hand caress the fabric of his underwear. You know it's filling with
blood, becoming longer and thicker. Too long; too thick. You wonder what
exactly is getting him hard. He watches you and Jim, but why does he find
you attractive? Suddenly you feel girly, kneeling there on the bed with
your hole in the air, waiting for a man's cock. Then you remember that your
ass is hairy, and Jim's isn't, and you remember that there are nights –
drunk nights – when Dad only enters Jim and fully empties himself inside
him, leaving you alone. Maybe his smooth body reminds him better of a
woman, or of Mom? Maybe he only enters you because he doesn't want you to
feel left out? You feel less girly as you remember all your hairs, but you
also feel strangely undesirable. It's stupid and makes no sense, but you
hope your father will find you attractive tonight, even through his
drink. God, it's not right...

You hear Jim gasp and feel the bed shake under him. You hear Dad exhale;
you hear flesh on flesh. He's touching Jim's hole with his penis. He's very
gentle and enters you both very slowly and caringly, but sometimes when he
is drunk, he forgets himself and gets rough. The first time it happened, he
was barely conscious. You still remember Jim's screams from that night and
how hard the bed shook under the weight of Dad fucking him. Dad roared and
swore as he mercilessly pounded his cock into Jim. Several times, he called
him 'Sally' – Mom's name. Jim pleaded with him to stop or slow down, but
Dad couldn't hear in his stupor.

When he finished, he instantly fell on top of Jim and started snoring. Both
his wet cock and his sperm slid out of Jim's ass and onto the bed, staining
a large circle on the sheets. Jim was in pain, sobbing. You remember how
you had to push Dad off him to let him get away and then how you had to
slide the sheets out from under Dad and clean them so he wouldn't find them
and remember what he'd done to his son. Regardless, he remembered the next
day. He spent it sobbing and apologizing to Jim. It hurt to see him like
that, but at the time you felt like he deserved all the sorrow in the
world. You thought Jim could never forgive him, but he did. You didn't
think you could ever forgive him if he did that to you. Maybe Jim loves him
more than you? Maybe that, and not fear, is the reason he doesn't mind this
as much. Maybe he loves Dad more than you do.

Your bare hole feels cold in the air. The lube has drained its heat. The
bed starts to shake under you. You look over to Jim and see that he has his
eyes closed, his jaw clenched. His head hangs low, waves of his blond hair
caressing the sheets as he sways slowly, imperceptibly, back and forth. You
wonder if Dad is still entering him; you can't tell. Dad is grunting behind
you. Grunts of pleasure as his penis slowly slides inside of Jim, pushing
the muscles of his ass apart, or pleasure from exploring the warmth of his
son's insides? You can't tell.

You feel alone there, half-naked, next to your half-naked little brother,
your big, strong father naked behind you. As much as you don't want to, you
feel like a part of this family. You three are together, in life, in
everything, and it feels safe. Wrong or not, it feels safe to be Dad's
haven when he comes back home. Maybe Jim is right. Maybe he does deserve
this. He works so hard for you and treats you so well, how can you be so
ungrateful as to mind his growls of pleasure as he pushes his engorged meat
into your brother's hole? Yes, he's growling now, the soft rumble of his
voice sending waves through Jim, through the bed, through you. His movement
causes waves too. You feel him swaying Jim. You take another look at your
brother, supporting himself on his muscular arms, his stomach tight in
spite of gravity. You see his dick under him, full of blood and swaying
with him. You know how it feels. When Dad pushes himself inside you, you
don't want to get hard, but you can't help it. When Dad enters you with his
manhood, he fills you completely, he massages your insides, parts no one
else has access too. It feels good. It's wrong, but it feels good, and your
dick responds. Suddenly, you see Dad's large, hairy hands on Jim's hips and
you close your eyes again.

'Ah!' Jim whispers. You don't think Dad hears him. He makes his little
noises again, and again, and again. Dad is sliding his cock in and out of
him, you can tell by the rhythm of his rocking and his noises. He always
makes those noises. You think he sounds weak, with his little ahs and ohs
as he takes Dad. You don't make those noises, or at least you don't think
you do. You take it quietly, like a man. Then again, maybe that's another
reason why Dad prefers your brother. His body is smooth, he's blond like
your mother was, and he makes those girly noises. Maybe that turns Dad on.

He certainly sounds turned on. He rumbles, he grunts, he growls; Jim ahs,
ohs, squeals quietly. You're tempted to look, but you don't. He rumbles and
mutters a barely audible 'fuck'. Dad never swears during the day. He grunts
with pleasure. You can only imagine how it feels for him. You've fucked
girls, but never... like that. Maybe you never wanted to, or maybe you were
just afraid to try. You know how it feels inside a pussy, inside a woman's
wet hole, but you feel like you have no idea how it feels inside a man. You
have no desire to find out, but somehow, you hope it feels nice for
Dad. You hope it makes him happy to relax with his sons after a hard week
of work. That's the kind of thinking that takes over you when Dad comes
home. Your rebelliousness melts away. You cross over completely to Jim's
side and just want to help Dad, make him feel good. You know you'll feel
bad about it tomorrow and argue with Jim about it at some point
again... but when Dad enters you tonight, you tell yourself, you'll try to
make the kinds of noises Jim does.

It comes sooner than you expect. The swaying slows, and Jim's sounds
diminish. He and Dad exhale together several times as Dad exits him, they
inhale together as he enters him again, but as the breathing slows, the
fucking slows too. You look at Jim, and he looks at you, his eyes glazed
over with pleasure. He's biting his thick lips. Sweat has stuck some of his
hair to his face. He looks into your eyes and you can easily tell what he's
feeling. You see it in his eyes, in his facial expressions. You see his
eyebrows raise as he feels Dad slowly sliding his long, thick penis out of
him. You see his lips pout, his eyes squint with tears as Dad's cockhead
spreads his asshole further apart than his shaft on its way out. A slight,
relieved spreading of his green eyes tells you that Dad is fully out. Jim
looks, at once, relieved and disappointed, comforted and scared, sated and
hungry. You know the feeling. He wanted Dad to spill his seed inside
him. He would never want for something like that during the day, but when
Dad comes home and when you start, your thoughts go there so easily that
it's scary.

You hear him move behind you. The smell of beer and cigarettes washes over
you again and suddenly, too fast, you feel him touching your ass. He feels
warm and comforting, heated up from fucking your brother. He feels like he
belongs on your ass, protecting it. You feel him moving delicately around
it and realize that it's not his cock that's touching you. It's one of his
thick, long fingers cleaning the area, moving the wet hairs away from your
hole. He spits. You flinch as you feel his finger enter you, wet and warm,
but as thick as two of your fingers. He pushes his spit inside you because
he feels there isn't enough lube. You know it's all the same to him. He's
strong enough to enter you dry and it would probably feel better for his
uncut penis, but he cares about you, cares not to hurt you. So he slides
his finger out, spits again, and pushes it back in. You feel it caressing
you inside. You squeeze your ass around it to let him know it's alright and
he moans loudly.

You look at Jim and see him glancing back at Dad, observing him as he
prepares you. His eyes are running up and down something. At first you
think it's Dad's tight, muscular build that always inspired your brother to
work out, but then you realize that his eyes are moving too little. You
realize he's observing the full length of Dad's hard cock that just left
his insides. You see the hunger in his eyes, feel the emptiness he must
feel. Dad places the whole length of his loins between your buttcheeks,
along your crack. You feel it cover the entire area of your ass, feel it
press against your cheeks above and below your hole. You hang your head low
and gaze down the length of your thin stomach, past your aroused, throbbing
dick, and see your father's hairy, muscular legs behind your thin ones. You
see his massive pair of balls hanging low behind you, dwarfing yours by
comparison; it's not that you're small at all, it's just that your father
is so big.

He slides it up and down you to relax you. When he slides it up, he presses
the root of his shaft against your hole and his ballsack hits yours; you
get dizzy; you're transported to another world. When he slides it down, you
can see some of its base, thick as your forearm, glistening white with
lube. Jim is observing, biting his lips as he does when he enjoys what he
sees. You wonder if he's aware of the tic. You remember way back when this
all started, when you were much younger and were taking Dad one night,
getting fucked hard and worrying stupidly about the integrity of the
squeaking bed, you remember looking over to Jim and seeing him looking at
the two of you go, biting his lips all the while. That, you remember, was
your first clue that he may actually be enjoying some part of this family
ritual.

You feel Dad's hands, each easily as big as one of your butt cheeks,
spreading you. Your ass clenches to counter him and pleasure surges through
your dick. He squeezes your cheeks, grabs you harder, and spreads you apart
again. This time, you let it go, let your ass open slightly for him. He
growls, spits, and you feel the mouthful land on your hole as his cock
leaves your crack. A moment later, you feel its head touching your pink
hole and pushing apart the wet flesh. Dad's prepared you so well that there
is no pain as you feel his head slide into you.

The size of him pushing against the walls of your insides feels as
incredible as ever. Every time he enters you, all your anger melts away,
every problem in the world reduced to ashes by the fire of his passion, the
warmth of his erect manhood. As he gently slides it in further, spreading
your ass more and more with his large organ, you only feel safer. It's when
he's away that you feel vulnerable. Maybe it's that vulnerability that
drives you to hate him at times, drives you to anger over his need for
release. It's a strange thought, but it makes perfect sense to you as you
feel Dad start to fuck you with some of his thick pole, gliding in and out
along your wet anus and inducing the divine pleasure that you so easily
forget during the day. Although you feel perfectly content, perfectly safe
just letting him enjoy you like that, you remember your vow from earlier
and quietly let out a baritone 'aaah'.

He stops. You wonder if it was the wrong decision, if maybe only your
brother knew how to do it right, but you are quickly reassured when you
hear Dad inhale deeply and feel his stationary cock throb inside you,
impossibly growing a bit more. He slides his firm hands over your ass and
reaches around to the fronts of your thighs. A gentle pull towards him lets
you know what he wants. You readjust yourself on your elbows, arch your
back, and push yourself towards him. You slide down his length for what
feels like a blissful eternity, never reaching his body, letting out a soft
'oooooh' as you do. You slide back up for another eon, feeling your anus
grip his massive dick. You almost reach the tip, and oh how relaxing it
feels when you do, but just before you let him out, you slide back down the
whole length you've managed to take so far.

'Fuuuuuck,' he exhales, his voice deep and hoarse from the cigarettes.

A smile forces its way onto your face. You open your eyes and look at Jim,
half-expecting jealousy on his face, perhaps because you'd like him to envy
you for once. But Jim is impossibly honest as always. Emotions like
jealousy are alien to him. What you see on his face is a smile as well, his
eyes glistening with brotherly pride as he watches you please Dad, with
filial devotion as he observes your father behind you, taking care of you
like no one else can, letting you enjoy yourself like you never could with
anyone else, because he loves you more than anyone could. You're his son,
you're both his sons. He's your creator. He made you.

That's a strange thought. As you move your whole body and use your voice to
please Dad, the thought creeps into your head again and again. You came
from his cock. What you are is a product of his sperm. Not only has Dad
taken great care of Jim and you all your lives, loved you with all his
heart, but he is also literally the source of your lives. You feel
tremendously ungrateful all of a sudden. You regret everything you said to
Jim earlier. Dad evidently feels your spirits fall; he moves his hands
across your hairy legs, massaging them, back up to your butt, squeezing the
muscle and skin. His hands move to your lower back, the width of it barely
enough to fit them both, and push down on it. When you don't move, he moves
them up your back and pushes down again. You get the hint and slowly lower
your torso to the bed, letting your arms relax.

He gives you an approving slap on your right buttcheek and chases away the
bad thoughts. You smile and relax again, and as you do, he grabs your ass
and forces his length into you. You yell out in pain and pleasure as he
penetrates a deeper part of you, but you say nothing and you don't
discourage him. You know it's only temporary. He stays inside for a bit to
let you get used to it, but then he starts plowing you right, his gentle
care replaced with a man's raw desire to fuck a hole. You make noises now
involuntarily as he blesses your insides with his presence, and your newly
discovered ahs and ohs drive him mad. You can feel it in the way he growls
as he fucks your ass faster and faster, feel it in his hands squeezing your
cheeks and spreading them apart to let you take him easier, feel it in the
slapping noise of his groin pounding against your butt; you realize he's
almost completely inside you now.

You want to cry in delight as your father fucks you harder and harder, his
large body leaning into you more and more, ramming your gates with the
force of a truck, the mechanical rhythm of a piston. He puts his hands on
your lower back again and supports himself on it, letting his hips do the
work. You're not a particularly strong guy and the weight of him is not
easy for you to handle, but you endure. You take comfort in the fact that
your father feels safe enough with you to let your body hold him up while
he focuses on bulldozing your asshole with his massive cock. His giant
balls ram into your thighs over and over and sometimes reach around to your
dick. You wonder how that doesn't hurt him, but there's not much time for
wondering. He begins moaning. You know the sound well. You look over to Jim
again and, once again, instead of jealousy you see excitement, instead of
envy hunger. He wants a part of the portion that you're about to get, but
he cares more for Dad's pleasure than his. He feels like you've earned your
reward tonight.

The moans grow in intensity as Dad fucks you relentlessly. You begin to
quietly moan with him. You don't even feel your ass anymore. It's just you
and Dad in that moment, becoming a single entity as he gives you a large
part of himself. The bed is shaking and squeaking under you, but you can
hardly hear it over Dad's joyous roaring as he feels his juice coming. He
growls loudly, shaking the room with his deep voice, and his rhythm
slows. He starts entering you fully and exiting you fully, filling you to
the brim with his cock and then leaving you fully, leaving your open ass
empty before he suddenly slides back in with full force, transporting you
into another world. He knows you like it. He knows because, every time he
does it, it makes you come within seconds.

He drives his cock as deep into you as it will go, and you feel like your
balls are going to burst. He goes out. He shoves it in again, sliding along
your insides, and you feel a large gob of precum sliding out of your pipe
and onto the sheets. He goes out. You know this will be it. Maybe he does
too, because he does it slower this time, allowing your ass to fully
appreciate the size of your Dad's giant cock as its bottle-like girth opens
you, enters you, slides into you and slides and slides and slides and
slides and slides and slides and slides, its impossible length fitting
inside you. As his groin presses against your cheeks and he makes the final
push with his hips to push into you even the last inch of the cock from
which you came, you get dizzy and go over the edge and you feel your
manhood start to convulse in response to your orgasm.

The first rope of your cum goes halfway to your face and falls on the
sheet. The second blasts you and you close your eyes. The third blasts you
too. You enjoy the warmth of your cum on your face, but what you enjoy more
is your ass rhythmically contracting around Dad's dick. He moans and swears
again as your anus squeezes his manhood in orgasm. Suddenly he roars louder
than you think he should. You feel it coming. His juice rushes through his
massive pole and you feel it spreading your ass further to make room for
the liquid. The first rush comes right after one of your ass squeezes and
you gasp; the second, more voluminous, coincides with one of your squeezes
and your whole body starts shaking with pleasure. A third comes, and a
fourth, in quick succession. Dad gasps for air as he comes inside you,
shooting his thick white cum all over your insides. A fifth fills you, and
a sixth, and a seventh. Dad keeps orgasming long after you're done, but you
enjoy him giving you your reward. An eighth pulse shoots the last of his
juice inside you and you suddenly feel wetness sliding down your thighs and
your balls. You know what it is. Dad has so much cum in his balls that you
can rarely contain all of it inside you when he releases it. You regret
losing it, but there's nothing you can do. His giant cock fills you so
much, it's strange any of his sperm can fit, really. Even as he's still
inside you, you feel yourself overflow and his cum starts draining down
your legs and onto the sheet, some of it mixing with your cum.

You both slowly wind down. His breathing slows, and yours does too. His
cock slowly relaxes, letting more of his juice leave your ass and probably
run all over his big balls. You know how it goes now that he's had his
release. He exits you, at first slowly but then all at once; you feel
another waterfall of his cum rush down your balls and legs. You open your
eyes, displacing some of your come. You see him again towering behind you,
the sheet under you a wet mess. You see his relaxed cock resting between
his balls, all covered in white juice, and you feel the strangest, wrongest
urge to lick the juice off it. You chastise yourself for thinking idiotic
things. His massive legs are bulging from all the work. You appreciate his
big muscles and admire him for the work he puts into them. You're not as
inspired by them as Jim is, but you can certainly appreciate the effort
that goes into them.

Suddenly, you see his lower half turn. His manhood swings around and leaves
your sight as he begins walking away. You slowly lower your aching back to
the bed, trying to keep his cum from pouring out of you again. Everything
is wet, but you don't dislike it. It's Dad's cum. You worked for it and now
you're lying in it. You hear Dad picking up his clothes off the floor. You
could almost fall asleep from how happy you feel, how safe and
satisfied. The sound of the door opening brings you out of it. You expect
it to close, but it doesn't immediately. You raise your eyebrows and your
heart starts beating from anticipation.

'Boys,' Dad calls from the door, his deep voice soothing you.

He doesn't normally talk to you afterwards. You wonder. You feel your
brother's confusion in his silence. Long ago, when you made the arrangement
with Dad, he told you that he didn't want you to talk during or
afterwards. Both of you have kept to that rule. You've often wondered why
he likes it that way, and your best guess was that he didn't want male
voices ruining his enjoyment. This explanation, you think, is supported by
his liking it when you let out soft, feminine sounds, but you've always
felt that it couldn't be the whole story.

The silence lingers for a few more seconds. Neither of you respond.

'Right,' he mumbles, apparently remembering the rule.

He's silent for a few beats, and then he rumbles it out. He says it loud
and clear, in his commanding tone. He says it with full conviction. He says
it to you and your brother.

'I love you boys very much.'

The door closes.

'Wow,' whispers Jim immediately. He lifts his upper body, all his muscles
still tense from essentially planking. His long erection curves slightly
downward as it protrudes from his groin, the head wet with precum. 'What
was that about?'

'No idea,' you say with a heavy breath, still lying down. 'The last time he
said that was when Mom died.'

'Yeah, I remember.'

You see him get up off the bed, his hard dick swinging and still leaking
precum. Jim is really fit. He never goes to a gym, but he spends a lot of
his time outdoors and playing sports with friends. You like that about
him. All his looks come naturally from doing what he loves to do. His abs
ripple when he moves, the soft blond hairs between them tapering down to
his dick. He has a clearly defined jaw but not much in the way of a
beard. He's just an all-around handsome guy, you think. He doesn't get with
girls much because he's a romantic, but he could have anyone he set his
eyes on. You're both proud of him and envy him, but that's what brothers
do.

'Are you okay?' he whispers from somewhere you can't see.

'Yeah. That was...' You stop yourself before you say 'great'. Luckily, Jim
fills in.

'Dad seemed to really enjoy it. I think it's great that you put in some
extra effort.'

You almost blush as you remember the soft noises you made. Your speaking
voice is full and relatively deep, but you found it surprisingly easy to
sound airy for Dad. You remember how you loved the way it made his penis
twitch inside you.

'Anyway, get up so I can throw the sheets and get to bed. The guys and I
are going hiking at 5 tomorrow.'

You remember that this is Jim's bed. You slowly separate yourself from the
lake of cum and tiptoe across the carpet to your small en suite bathroom to
clean up. You hear him jumping around and changing the sheets as you wipe
the mix of lube and cum from your ass, legs and dick. You go for a quick
shower and, when you come out in your short pajamas, Jim is already in bed,
eyes closed. You notice the bulging part of the sheet at his crotch and
smirk.

You slide into the bed on the opposite wall. You know it'll take you a
while to fall asleep. Your mind is racing, replaying all the sensations and
emotions you felt, thinking about Dad and Jim and you and this whole thing
and how it fits into your life. After a while, you remember something.

'Hey,' you call out to Jim, hoping he's still awake. He mumbles in
disapproval. 'Hey, Jimmy.'

'I'm sleeping,' he retorts.

'Isn't Saturday Dad's birthday?'

'Yeah. So what?'

'So, you think he'll want to... you know, do this?'

'Probably. Why?'

'I was just thinking, maybe we should think of something better. Surprise
him, you know. He never goes out, he never has anyone over.'

'You wanna take him out to a disco club, Dan?'

'Shut up. Maybe we could invite some of his friends over and have a couple
drinks.'

'Why do you suddenly care so much?' grumbles Jim groggily.

'Honestly, I have no idea,' you answer. 'It just came over me that we're
everything he has and the guy is turning 40. We should probably do
something special. I dunno, I just feel... Sorry, forget it.'

Silence for a minute.

'Like who?'

'What?'

'Who do we invite?'

You think it over for a bit. Dad has a number of good friends, of course,
but they're spread across the country. They talk occasionally over the
phone, but you know he hasn't got time for meetups. It would be great if
you could arrange something with some of the ones who are close by.

'Hey, remember Darryl?'

Jim opens his eyes and looks across the room at you, a smile on his face.

'Sure, we played b-ball all the time. You were a sissy back then and never
wanted to join.'

'He was three times my size,' you say. 'What would be the point?'

'It's about having fun, Dan, not winning. You never get that.'

'Yeah, well. We can invite him, I think he's only a 3-hour drive from
here. I remember Dad mentioning a while ago that he remarried and moved to
the countryside.'

'Sure, he's cool. Party of four sounds small for a birthday though. Anyone
else?'

'Uhh, aunt Christie lives nearby.'

'Yeah, but being the only girl there? I'd feel bad for her.'

'I guess it will be quite a sausagefest. I dunno, I'm out. Everyone else is
too far away to bother.'

Jim squints his green eyes and looks into the wall for a bit.

'Oh!' he says and sits up a bit. 'I think I saw Mr Napier downtown a couple
weeks ago when I was with Anna.'

'Who?' you ask, not recognizing the name.

'Old Mr Bill, Dad's wrestling trainer. You remember him, he came to your
tenth birthday!'

'Sure, just like a bunch of other people I've never seen since,' you say,
but it does ring a bell. 'Isn't he dead though?'

'People don't die at 50, Dan,' Jim says, irritated. 'He wasn't that much
older than Dad.'

'Were they close though? I haven't heard Dad talk about him much.'

'Well, Dad was pretty deep into wrestling when he was younger. They must
have spent a lot of time together. Besides, I've met him and he's really
funny.'

'Oh? When was this?'

'I tried wrestling for a while in high school, remember? Dad took me over
to Bill's one time to get some technique lessons. I quit the team soon
after that because I got bored of it, but that one time with him was really
cool. He even convinced Dad to let me have a beer.'

'Asshole, I thought our first drink was together,' you say, half-joking.

'It was, dude. That was later. Anyway, Google him and see if he lives
nearby. Bill Napier. I'm sure I saw him, but he wouldn't have recognized me
so I didn't say anything.'

'Okay,' you say, pretty happy that both of you came up with one
friend. 'Party of five doesn't sound bad at all.'

'Yeah. Anyway, you get on that tomorrow. We only have a week. Now go to
sleep.'

'You too,' you say, closing your eyes. 'Do you think this is a good idea?'

'It's a great idea,' says Jim finally and turns around to sleep.

Your mind slowly winds down, but a million ideas still pop into your head
of what you could do on Saturday to make Dad's birthday nice. You hope both
Darryl and Bill will be able to come, or you'll really have to grasp at
straws. You hope Dad will be pleasantly surprised and happy to see them.

You think about tonight. Another Friday night, another weekly family
bonding. You're drifting into sleep and you don't know how you feel about
it anymore. It made you feel good. It made Dad feel good enough to say out
loud that he loved you and Jim. What could be so wrong about it if it makes
you all happy? You're sure you'll think of reasons again tomorrow, but you
don't care.

Your last thought before you fall asleep is gratitude. You're thankful to
Dad for trusting you enough with his needs and with his seed tonight. You
turn on your side and you feel a sea of his cum move inside you. The cum
that made you, inside you, because you earned it. Dad's love, inside
you. You smile and then you're gone.