Date: Wed, 29 Jun 2016 22:33:02 +0000 (UTC)
From: a4f101@yahoo.com
Subject: Fireworks

Here's a story taken from my Tumblr, at a4f101.tumblr.com/storytime. You
can find this one, and the pic that inspired it, here:
http://a4f101.tumblr.com/post/123148696879/

This story is purely a work of adult erotic fantasy, copyright me 2016. I
own it and all legal rights to it. If you're under the age of majority in
your jursdiction, please come back when you're of legal age.

Nifty is an incredible free service that depends on your donations to
survive. It changed my life, and maybe it's changed yours too. Please help
them to keep providing this awesome resource for all of us:
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

I love hearing from you guys. a4f101@yahoo.com. Enjoy.

*****

"This is fucking awesome!" Grant said with a big grin, tilting his head
back to the sky, big arms outstretched along the back of the seat.

The lake was surprisingly quiet, considering the Fourth of July weekend was
just about here, but I guess the fact that it was midday on the Wednesday
preceding had something to do with that, plus the clouds threatening rain
off in the distance.

No biggie. That just meant it was mostly our playground, as we wheeled the
pontoon boat around, a cooler full of beer and no particular place to
go. I'd come down yesterday to open the house up, and Grant had pulled in
this morning, already in his board shorts and eager to get the boat out
onto the water so we could chill. He'd stripped his tank top off almost
immediately, soaking in the intermittent rays, and I had one eye on the
water ahead and the other on the fine-carved marble of his torso. Football
had been good to him this year, and he was looking better than ever.

I finally found a quite place to pull up and drop the anchor, down in one
of the inlets where the surrounding woods and terrain were a little too
wild to build houses... yet, at least. I'd seen the new For Sale signs
coming in yesterday, and I figured this might be our last summer to enjoy
the peace and relative privacy of this particular part of the lake. We'd
been coming over here since we were kids, back when all we had was a little
john boat with a tiny outboard slung off the back. It was our little
adventure haven away from the grown-ups, where we could explore and play
kid games, pretending we'd gotten shipwrecked and washed ashore on a
deserted island.

When we'd both gotten into our mid-teens, the games had changed a
little. Less of the kid stuff, and more decidedly grown-up games. Grant got
his cock sucked for the first time sitting on a log up on the bluff above
the water, shooting a stunned, but enthusiastic load of jock kid cum down
my eager throat, as I showed him the lessons I'd learned at baseball
camp. From that point on, we'd motor out to the inlet just about every day
and play some new games. Our parents thought we were exploring, and we sure
were - we were exploring each other.

Well... "each other" took a few days to happen, at least a dozen of Grant's
cumloads in my belly before his curiosity got the best of him, and he
started to touch my bare-chested young muscles, like I was starting to do
to him. It helped that I'd filched a couple of Dad's beers and we both had
a lightweight teenage buzz going on. It helped that when I sucked the
second load from him, I'd been palming the newly-emerged plates of muscle
on his pecs, his abs, the stiff bullet points of his tits. That really got
him going, got him shooting, and when I stood up, my own shorts undone so I
could fist my cock, he let me keep feeling him up, with that goofy,
post-cum grin on his good-looking face. When he reached over to
experimentally, tentatively touch my bigger chest, I grunted with surprise
and doubled my pace on my teen dick. When he squeezed the flexing muscle of
my right bicep as I stroked, I nearly shot. And then he got this look in
his big blue eyes, all hazy and heavy-lidded from the beer and the cum and
the vibe between us, and leaned in to peck my lips, and I blasted my cum
all over his stomach and cock.

So then the game changed again, and despite the cute little chick he was
seeing back home, and despite my own deep questions about who I was and
what was going on inside my head and my gut and my cock, we got into
it. Real deep. We started making out, helping each other "improve our
skills," as he self-justified and I didn't disagree with. Started to jack
each other while we swapped tongues. The first time Grant looked up at me
apprehensively from between my spread, hard-muscled teen thighs, my cock in
his hand, his mouth open uncertainly as he leaned in, it was all I could do
not to blast my cum all over his handsome face. As it was, I barely lasted
a couple minutes, even with the tooth-scraping and the half-choked sounds
as he tried to replicate what I did for him. But he got better at it. A lot
better. The first time, he spat my load out onto the ground, but after
that, every time, we both motored back to our dock with at least a load or
two in each other's stomachs.

The following summer, he let me slip a finger up inside the tight ring of
muscle under his taint, just starting to get the reddish hair that already
crowned his beautiful cock, and even though it triggered off an enormous
load from him, it was me who wound up taking dick for the first time. And
so the game changed again. I didn't push him - he was so damn good at
fucking me, especially for a kid not even 16 yet, but when he saw how hard
he made me cum, he had to know for himself, and the last week of our stay,
we traded off. Sinking deep between those football-hardened glutes of his,
all creamy and firm and round and pliant, is still something I jack off to.

But the summer after that was our last one to play our games. I was heading
off to college in the fall, and everything just felt... different. You
know, being on the cusp of manhood and all that stuff. But we packed a tent
and some supplies and motored off to our little retreat - our parents had
this amused, but wistful look on their face as they waved us goodbye from
the dock - and set up camp for a night. A long, sticky night, where the
humidity and the insistent mosquitoes didn't matter a bit, as we sank into
each other, really made love most of the night and much of the next
morning. We washed the sweat and spit and cum off our tired bodies in the
lake the next morning, giving each other blushing grins, feeling close and
bonded, but we knew everything was different.

This was actually the first time we'd both been up here at the same time
since. He was about to start summer training camp for his last semester at
State, and I was enjoying the break from the grad school slog, and we
talked about that and life stuff awhile as we sipped our beers and enjoyed
the gentle rock of the pontoon boat on the water. The fact that we were at
rest in the little inlet where so much had happened between us was kind of
a happy accident, maybe, though I guess I'd brought us over here more or
less on autopilot. Muscle memory, perhaps. And there sure were a lot of
muscle memories here.

I guess Grant picked up on that too... shit, even though we hadn't touched
each other the way we used to up here in years, how could he not? But he
looked around, eyes hidden behind his sunglasses, a little smile on his
handsome face as he popped the top on another beer and sprawled his
muscular legs out. I felt my mouth go a little dry at the sight of him. I'm
still in good shape, even though I gave up baseball when I left high
school, but nothing compared to him. With his reddish-brown hair, his
creamy skin, the stacks of muscle bulging all over him, he looked like a
young god. But I had to quit thinking along those lines, because I was
already nice and thick inside my shorts, which hid nothing at all. So I
crossed my legs to hide my bulge, sipped my beer, and stayed quiet.

"Shit, I missed this place," Grant eventually said, looking over at me with
that smile of his. That panty-dropper of a smile, one of my female friends
called it.

"Yeah?" I said kind of huskily. I watched him as his big thighs spread a
little wider, totally relaxed and comfortable, the fucker.

"Yeah, bro," he said with a slow nod. "Lotta good times up here. Here
specifically, I guess," he chuckled. I couldn't help but grin, and agree
with him a little sheepishly, and then we just started laughing, and the
edge came off. We relaxed a little more, and started reminiscing, and had
another beer, and it was good. And then I looked around, reached into my
backpack, and pulled out my little Ziploc bag with a few fat joints in it,
and things got even better.

"Dude, you're a fuckin' magician," Grant sighed through a cloud of exhaled
smoke. "But glad they're not gonna piss-test us for a few weeks yet."

"Ha... I think the first time I got you high was up here, little bro," I
chuckled.

"The night we camped," he said, grinning wider, an eyebrow raised. I
swallowed hard, felt my cock grow another half-inch in my shorts, as I
remembered shotgunning weed smoke with him, naked and boned to the max, on
our knees facing each other in that little tent. How hot we'd gotten
together, even hotter than we already were. How the high made him
practically beg me to fuck his tight little jock butt. How I'd obliged him,
with gusto. How he'd returned the favor.

"Well, before that, I think. But you took to it real well," I grinned.

"Took to a lot of things real well, big bro," he grinned, and let his
thighs spread a little more, scooting down comfortably in the seat, showing
me the growing bulge in his black shorts. At first I thought it might be
that weird crease you get sometimes, that looks like you're throwing a bone
- but no. It was him. All Grant. All man. I looked back at him levelly,
then slouched a little myself, spreading my own thighs, and showed him
right back. His eyebrow flicked up, and his smile widened a little more.

"You did, little bro. Much better than I expected. A lot of things I didn't
expect you to take... but you did," I said, warming to the game. Rubbing my
stomach, showing the hard crunch of my abs. Not as ripped as his, but still
pretty damn good.

"But maybe those are things you left behind, bro," I went
on. "Y'know... just messing around. Kid stuff."

"Brother stuff," he said, reaching down to squeeze... and not
coincidentally, highlight the epic tent he was throwing. "Who said anything
about leaving any of that behind, dude?"

It's a good thing the lake was quiet, because Grant's growls, moans, curses
and husky come-ons echoed off the bluffs surrounding us in the inlet, as I
kneeled between his strong jock thighs and swallowed him to the root. I was
a lot better at this than I was back then. A lot of practice since. I
didn't know about him, not yet, but there'd be time for more talk
later. For now, I was happy to feel his thick fingers curling into the
close-cropped hair on the back of my head, as I buried my nose in the musky
sweatiness of his red-brown bush, felt and tasted the thick, salty throb of
him in my mouth. An old favorite taste. The smartass academic in the back
of my brain wanted to say something about Proust and madeleines, but the
horny, cock-loving man that dominated my mind most of the time told that
guy to shut the fuck up, and focused on delivering a five-star suckjob to
my little bro. He'd grown over the years, gotten better, and so had I.

His cum was still hot and thick on my tongue and the roof of my mouth,
lining the walls of my throat, when he grabbed my face in both hands,
pulled me up to meet him as he bent down, and kissed me, hard and deep and
hungry and wet. He was pretty damn good at this when he was 16, but a hell
of a lot better at it now. The friction of the polyester of my board shorts
against my cock was driving it, and me nuts, but when I reached down to
grab hold of my thickness, he smacked my hand away, broke the kiss with a
panting grin, and pushed me back on the deck of the boat.

"Taste good, don't I?" he said with a cocky wink, pulling off his
sunglasses and tossing them on the seat as he came down between my legs,
spreading and stroking them appreciatively before reaching for the velcro
fly of my shorts.

"Let's see if you taste as good as I remember, bro," he grinned, and took
my cock in his hand and mouth, and it turned out I wasn't the only one who
had gotten better at this, and it was my turn to echo hungry noise off the
bluffs surrounding our inlet.

Since our folks wouldn't be down until Friday, we pulled out the old tent
and sleeping bags, and came back to the inlet that night. The tent was a
tighter fit for us now, almost as tight as the little knot of muscle that
led to his insides, tight and throbbing and clutching my cock as I sawed in
and out of my little brother in a sweaty, lusty, pot-fogged daze. Just like
the last time, but so much better.

Later, we ducked back into the water to rinse and cool off, and when he
pulled me into his big footballer arms for a deep, searing, searching kiss,
I was putty in his hands. His wandering hands, roving over the firm,
squats-hardened muscles of my ass, spreading and squeezing, and it was real
easy to wrap my thighs round his waist, let him carry the weight with his
big athlete's body, and let him find his way back into me for the first
time since high school. I guess some of the lake residents were a little
too into the spirit of the upcoming Fourth, but when they started setting
off their fireworks over the lake, well, we had to laugh. It was just too
perfect. The bright colors exploded overhead as Grant set off his own
rocket deep inside me, and we kissed deeply under a rain of red, white and
blue.

"For the land of the free," Grant panted as I unlocked myself from around
his big, freshly sweaty body.

"And the home of the brave, little brother," I grinned, leaning in to seal
it with a kiss.