Date: Fri, 24 Dec 2004 09:53:48 -0800 (PST)
From: Steve Storyman <stevestoryman@yahoo.com>
Subject: Hot Little Brother, Chapter 3

______________________________

Hot Little Brother - Chapter 3
Steve Storyman
stevestoryman@yahoo.com
Copyright 2004 Steve Storyman

DISCLAIMER:  This story is for adults only.  If it is not legal
for you to read erotic stories, or you are not of legal age
either where you reside or are accessing this page, or are
offended by male to male sex or incest, then don't read this
story.  Other standard disclaimers apply.
______________________________


Football was suddenly on my mind.

Outside of home and academics, football was everything to me and
my brother.  After the hypnotizing spell of our initial immersion
into mutual sex, we remembered to work out, and toss the ball
around.  Not that we had sex any less often.

I organized practices and games with the other team members and
some neighborhood guys--and we sharpened our skills in our
favorite sport.  Josh participated in all of these.   Everyone
liked Josh and his playing.  His athletic ability was fairly
well-known among athletes in our community, but since he was
only14 and 15 when he had his best achievements, he didn't
attract the attention that an older boy would have.  At 16 now,
he needed to perform well on a good team to get the credit he
deserved.

I felt so bad for him that he flunked his last quarter of his
freshman year, and would have to repeat it.

For my part, the football practices I was organizing weren't just
for entertainment or just to keep in shape--I, too had flunked
last quarter, and that was hard on my parents, but they put up a
brave front after the shock wore off.  Of course, it didn't help
matters that Josh had flunked as well.

I had to make a decision.  Either go to summer school, and
graduate in obscurity, or repeat the year.  It was announced that
it would be a family decision--complete with full, round-table
discussion, including Josh.  In the end, after the long
discussion, dad said the decision was mine.

I decided to repeat the year.  There was a bright side.  I wanted
so badly to play one season with my brother on the team.  I
hadn't had a hope of that until now.  This would be my only
chance.  As for the excitement that built up in me--of playing
football another season--and with my brother, no less--it
couldn't have turned out better if I'd tried to plan it.  It
would give me and Josh an extra year in school together, too--
another bonus for both of us.

Dad had a way of using a little guilt, combined with our own
self-respect to make us toe the line.  He didn't punish or ground
either of us for failing.  He said he trusted us to be men, and
to make up for it with hard study and good grades.  Josh and I
tensed when dad used the word 'hard,' because it brought other
things to mind, and we had to keep from laughing.  But we knew it
was no laughing matter.  I had college to think about, and
failing twice would be a disaster.  Josh would be out of his
teens by the time he graduated.

One day I got a call from Coach, asking if I had written the
letter of recommendation for Josh, so Coach could consider
putting a freshman on the team.  It helped that Joshua was 16,
but that didn't qualify him automatically.

Jack Nelson was the head football coach.  We all just called him
Coach.  Of course, Coach knew how well my brother played--he'd
seen Josh at many of his junior-high games as well as most of his
JV games, so he wanted Josh.  It was just that Coach needed all
the support he could get, because putting a freshman on the team
was going to be a little difficult without some real solid
backup.

I had said nothing to Josh about the letter of recommendation I
was asked to write, nor of his chances for him to be considered
for the varsity team--until I realized I was on my fifth revision
of the letter and still not happy with it.  I so much wanted to
keep it a secret and surprise him with this all at once--after
Coach said yes.  But I needed help.

Josh was the good writer in the family.  I had to tell him and
get him to help me with the writing.

"Josh--you're going to be on the team."

"What?"

"The football team--the Varsity."

"You're crazy."

"I talked to Coach already.  All I have to do is write a letter
of recommendation to Coach, for you.  Other people will be
writing letters too--your junior high principal, and two of your
coaches.  And--I swear--you're GOING TO BE ON THE TEAM, Josh."

"Oh, GOD!" he shouted.  His smile beginning to form through the
stun of the shock.

"Yes!" I said, matching his shout.

"And . . . I get to play with YOU!" my brother screamed, with
high-pitched excitement and an ear-splitting boyish squeal.  I
thought his eight-year-old voice had returned.  I thought I would
never hear again.

Then, with his impossibly happy grin, Joshua jumped at me--aiming
high--his arms grabbing my neck, and his legs wrapping around my
waist--like he did when he was little.  I felt my own extreme
rush of excitement.

I'll never forget the look of joyful ecstasy on my brother's
face--the hours of smiles this one announcement gave him.

It was the one time since our baby days that we cried together.
We loved football, but the sudden excitement of contemplating
playing Varsity Football on the same team took us over the top.

Now we would have the added joy of loving each other in our
special secret way added to all that.

"Both of us on the team!  On the field at the same time--I'm sure
we'll get to do that."  We each said our own versions of this a
hundred times in the days that followed.

When we had returned to Earth, I reminded my brother it was time
for him to help me write the letter of recommendation to Coach.

"You got a pretty good start," Josh said, after reading the draft
letter I showed him.  He had his hands poised at the keyboard.

I was embarrassed to tell him it was my fifth revision, so I
didn't mention that part.

"Ok, Josh--put down that you were the best runner in the school,
and had the highest number of completed receptions."

"I can't say that--I'm not THAT good," Josh said, turning to me--
partly aggressive, partly begging.

"Shut up, meathead, and just write it.  Besides, I'm the one
that's saying it, remember?"  I was getting more excited than my
brother.

"I'm not a meathead."

"Okay, but you ARE that good, you just don't know it."  Each of
us had a slim but strong build, so neither of us even came close
to being a meathead.

He expressed his assent by writing what I wanted--and it was
true.  As I read his words, I could see how well-expressed the
letter was--simple but convincing.

As the summer progressed, I was happy as hell I was going to
repeat my senior year--and it got harder and harder to act all
disappointed in myself when I was around my friends who had
graduated.

The whole varsity team respected my brother's running and
receiving abilities, and general athletic prowess.  Josh was as
good an end as I was, and that was saying something.  He was also
good at basketball and baseball.  His stamina was incredible--he
could run miles without slowing.

Of course, the summer was good and hot--not ideal for football
practices and games--but the extra stress of the heat would get
us all more conditioned for the coming season.  That is, provided
we survived the grueling torture of two-a-days--a morning and
afternoon workout and football practice, almost every weekday in
August.

During that month, we all thought Coach was the Marquis de Sade
of the twenty-first century.  People think young athletic guys--
teens like me--don't really get worn out, but every year, the
two-a-days would have me limping home, dying for a second hot
shower, and ready to collapse.  You will never be as sore in your
life as you are after one of those August torture workouts.

I was a little sorry that Joshua would have to go through that--
but I knew it was necessary, and would do him good.  I had to
watch myself not to think of him as delicate, or treat him softly
(except in bed), because I knew Coach would pit me and Josh head
to head in some of the practices, and I would have to play
against him.  I had to get over the fear that I would hurt him.

We had our work to do at home during the day--painting the rooms
of the house, and installing new kitchen cabinets--but at night
we blissfully surrendered to our sexual desires.  It was a relief
having our room so far away from our parents' room.  We didn't
worry about the sounds we made during the night, as long as we
weren't too boisterous.

Practices and games over the summer were hot fun for Josh and me.
I was never so impressed with my brother's drive to excel and how
he pushed himself, succeeding in playing his best.

The team was impressed as well, and awarded him MVP of our summer
football games.  I burst with pride over that.

We were having too much fun for time to go slow, and August
arrived in a flash.

The day of the first summer football practice had arrived.

In our high school locker room, we got our uniforms and dressed
side by side.  Josh's smile actually exceeded the one he had when
I told him he would be on the team, and the one he had when Coach
told him he'd made it.  And it was just a practice uniform!  I
could tell, Josh was thrilled, as he held it up.

His eyes wandered along with mine, to the bodies of the other
players, who my brother was seeing naked or partly naked for the
first time.

It's a good thing I noticed him looking around, that warned me
not to call out and say hello to my friends just then, so as not
to call attention to my brother staring at them.

"Shit," Josh whispered so softly, "I'm gonna bone up looking at
them."

"Joshy, don't look.  Whatever you do, hide yourself if you get
hard," I warned him in an equally soft whisper.  "And let's not
look at each other, either--just in case.  At least we were
dressed now.  Josh had his head buried in his locker.

"Hey Kevin!" Tom Carlson yelled, "Good luck today, and your bro
too.  You guys will be great, I know it."

"Thanks, Tom."  Of course Tom knew Josh, so there was no need for
formalities.  Still, it probably seemed odd to Josh that this was
all spoken to his butt, so to speak, as he was still bent over at
his locker--looking for I don't know what.

Finally, Josh stood, and faced Tom.  It looked like he was
anxious to respond to him.

"Thanks Tom," my brother said with his typical wide grin, as he
stared at Tom in his final stages of dressing.

"Yeah, well," Tom said, coming close to us to speak privately,
"you guys are way better than me.  Give 'em hell man."

Tom was referring to the fact that eventually one of our drills
would involve splitting into two teams that would compete with
each other.

"Wow," Josh said, blown away by the compliment, and Tom's frank
admission, "Way cool, thanks dude."

"Watch out for your brother, don't let him get hurt," Tom said to
me with a hand on his crotch.  "I'll keep a eye out for him, too,
he added."  Then Tom left for the field.

"Why did he do that," Josh asked innocently, referring to Tom's
hand on his groin.

"Even with a cup, you could get hurt there.  You gotta keep an
eye out for anything moving toward your balls," I said like the
wise older brother.  "Some guys think it's fun to hurt a guy
there, and sometimes they don't know their own strength.  Tom is
just watching out for you."

You just never knew who might want to get over-zealous with a new
team member, maybe not realizing he was only 16, and more easily
injured than a seasoned player.  Strange things could happen,
especially at the beginning of the season, when guys could forget
their own strength.  Of course, you never knew who might be
jealous.

Despite the pain I was feeling, I thought the morning workout
went well, and was not overly rough.  I wondered if coach was
saving the worst for the afternoon practice.

"I'm gonna die," Josh said after the morning workout with the
team, limping worse than I was as we walked to the car.  I had to
remind him this was just half our day's practice.

"Don't forget, we're back on the field in 3 hours, bro."

"I'm definitely gonna die."

"Yeah, well if you die, I'm gonna die WITH you--and I'm not ready
for that.  So buck up.  We'll go home, take another shower, and
I'll rub your back."  The poor kid looked bleary-eyed and totally
exhausted.

"Just my back?" my brother asked, obviously in pain.

"Okay--ALL your sore muscles," I offered.

"I need a shot."

"A shot?" I said, shocked to the bone, and afraid of his words.
"You're not even gonna THINK of alcohol, little bro!"

"No, no, not that!"

"No drugs, man--Josh I swear it's all over if you do that!"

He was laughing.  "I said it wrong," my brother said with a new
coyness to his voice.

"So--WHAT, then?" I asked, almost shouting at him.

My strong football-player brother giggled like a schoolgirl.  I
had to admit, the contrast of this to him on the practice field
hit me as sexual.  My cock jumped.

"I call time out.  I'll think of how to say it later."  My
brother's grin was mysterious to say the least.

I sighed in resignation.  Little chatterbox brother could not be
coaxed to talk when he made up his mind to be quiet.

"I'm hungry," I said, sounding like a little boy.  "You up for
some burgers?"

"Yuck.  No," Josh intoned, matching my boyish tone.  "Let's go to
Dortmann's."

"The German place?"

"Yeah.  They got good low fat stuff there."

"Low fat?" I complained.

"Yeah, that's what Coach said to eat."

"Shit, if you go vegetarian on me, I'll tie you down and tickle
you for a week."

This just made Josh give me another Mona Lisa smile.  I didn't
know what was cooking in that brain of his, but somehow I
suspected it was good.

We had a nice, not-so-low-fat German meal and both felt
satisfied.  It was time to go home.

Horny.  That described how I felt.  Except for the extreme
soreness, inability to walk straight, aching knees, and total
fatigue, I felt fine.  And Joshua was in no condition to suck
anything but air.  All those thoughts were moot, because blowing
a load before a tough workout drains you.

Everything had to wait until practice was over.  I worried about
Josh.  I needn't have.  By the time 5 o'clock rolled around, he
was doing much better then at lunchtime.  I didn't admit it, but
he was doing a little better that I was.  I hid it well.

Mom knew the routine.  She knew when you came home from two-a-
days, you were so worn out, you showered and fell into bed, so
mom always had sandwiches and milk ready at the end of the two-a-
day.  I'd forgotten to tell Josh about that, but he'd see.  It
was going to be nice to see two plates and glasses--the twin
servings a symbol of our being on the team together.

"Hi mom," we both said, walking in the door and sounding more
tired than we really were.

"Hey, how's my boys?"

"Sore."

"Tired."

"That good, huh?"  Mom hugged us both, saying how proud she was,
especially of Josh because this was his first exposure to the
Coach's torture days.  She knew how grueling it was.

"Yeah.  Peachy, mom," Josh said, flashing her a nice grin.

"Snacks are in your room already.  Sorry I have to run, boys--I'm
meeting you dad for dinner."

"Okay, bye mom," I said, and she was out the door.

It didn't seem to register with Josh about the snacks.  I knew
from our conversation on the way home, Josh had two things on his
mind.

"Mom always makes snacks for the end of the practice day."

"Shower . . . bed," my brother said robotically--holding his arms
straight out in front, quickly conveying his mood as well as
physical condition.

My cock stirred when Josh had said the word 'bed.'  I was
thinking, 'Shower-bed, yes.  Shower-sleep, no,' despite the
fatigue.

"You'll get your energy back after you eat," I told Josh at the
base of the stairs.

"Okay," Josh said, with on foot on the first step.  "I think I'll
skip the stairs and sleep in the living room."

"No, Josh, no," I said---it's 'shower-bed,' remember?"

"No," he said, then shook his head slowly, "shower-living room."

"Cut it out, Josh!  Now up those stairs."  I swatted him good on
the butt, once for each step, to get him to go.

"Up!  Up!  Up! . . . ," each word accompanied by a slap.

"Ow!  Ow!  Ow! . . . "

"Well, come on, little brother, move your butt."

He stopped and shook his rear at me.

"Don't wiggle your fanny, get your butt upstairs."  I loved his
little butt in right in front of me as we climbed the stairs--
that is, if Josh would cooperate.

SMACK!

"Ow!  Quit it," my brother said like when he was 12.  Then he
turned suddenly and beamed me a smile.

SMACK!

"Ow!

"I'll show you 'Ow,'" when we get upstairs.

"What--you're gonna spank me?"

"Yeah, I just might do that, baby bro."

I guess I thought to say that because it was fresh on my mind.
While Josh and I were suiting up in the locker room, I looked
around, and had remembered Coach paddled a player's butt if he
got too far out of line with the rules or did something really
bad.

Even though he did it in the equipment room by the wrestling
mats, you could hear the kid hollering with each swat.  Coach was
old-school, and he swung the paddle like a baseball bat.  It was
private--no harm done, and he had the parents' permission--and no
self-respecting football player would ever admit that a paddling
or anything like that actually hurt.  After all, we were the
tough guys.  We had to protect our public image.

"You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't what?" I said, to fluster him a bit

"You wouldn't spank me."

"Yes I would.  I dare you to find out.  I dare you," I said,
goading him.

That elicited his crooked smile--like he was caught with his hand
in the cookie jar.  "Okay!"

"Off with the clothes," I said, stripping my tee.

Surprisingly, Josh just undressed, while I got comfortable in a
chair.

"Let's get this over with quick," Josh said, laying his spent
body on my lap, and sounding more tired than ever.

Not that I thought it would really hurt him, I smacked him ten
hard ones, with my hand.  For sure, it hurt my hand.

Josh had grunted a few times and that was it.

"That's not a spanking," he said with feigned annoyance,
pretending he didn't feel it.

Yeah--well, that's all you're getting, just in case you enjoyed
it.

"You're sick.  You're a perv," he said in well-practiced tones.
It was a mock-insult we had started hurling at each other a few
years ago.  It had since lost its sting.

This wasn't the first so-called spanking I'd given him playfully,
but only one I boned up about.   I thought Josh had felt my cock
poking upward, but it was nice he wasn't saying anything about
it.

"So sue me," I said.  Then Josh shocked me.

"I'm beat Kev, I'm not waiting for you.  Even if mom was home--
we're taking a shower TOGETHER."

"You want sex with that shower?" I said, pretending readiness to
write down his response.

"No.  Well, maybe.  If I throw a bone, you suck it."

"Okay.  Same rule applies to me," I said.

"'Kay, if we both throw a bone, I suck you first," Josh said.

"Deal.  Shit, where's the rule book--this won't be lovemaking,
it's more like playing Bingo."

"You got a boner when you spanked me."

"Yeah--so?"

"So, why?"

"It made me horny.  I don't know why."

"Okay, then I get to spank you, Kevin."

"No way, little bro."

"You promised anything that turns us on, we'd share."

"I didn't stall around on the steps, like you did, making it take
forever to get up here."

"That doesn't count.  I wanna be horny, too."

"No."

"I won't shut up until you let me."  Josh had a way of getting to
me sometimes.

"Okay!  Ten--but no harder than I gave you."

"Deal," he said.  "Now get naked."

Actually, I was getting turned on thinking of his hand touching
my butt--even if it stung a little.  But I put on my best
irritated look as I undressed.  If I hadn't been tired, I would
have picked Josh up, carried him to the bed, and sucked him.
Once he gets going he's hooked.

"There, I'm naked."

Josh sat down.  "Okay, over my knee," he said, giggling.

I saw we were both half hard as I put myself on Josh's legs.  I
waited about 20 seconds.

"Well, lets go," I said, "what's the holdup?"

"I'm not ready."

"What's not to be ready?  Just do it.  It's time to hit the
shower.  Even though we were clean, a second shower always felt
good after the rough workout of two-a-days.

WHACK!

"Aaarrghh!  Fuck!  What was that?" I said, feeling an incredible
burst of pain.

"Just the board we use to put under the table leg."

"You can't use that, use your hand.  Geez, that's brutal, Josh!"

"Oh God," my brother said fearfully, "it's red already."

"My butt?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, just stop then."  I heard the board fall to the floor.

"I'm sorry, Kev--I'm really sorry."

"It's okay.  We had our fun, let's go take our shower."  I
ignored his fear for the moment, suddenly realizing this would be
our first shower together--not counting the baths we had when we
were little.  "We'll wash each other."

My brother was silent.  That worried me.

"Josh--you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

That meant he was going to be fine, but right now he had some
problem.  Maybe just guilt that he hit me so hard with that
board.  He was probably worried I was angry and going to take
revenge on him at some unexpected moment.

As the warm water hit our naked bodies, two erections sprouted
within 30 seconds.

I knelt and sucked Josh's beautiful hard cock--just enough to get
him buzzing with need.  "There.  Does that convince you I'm not
mad at you?"

"Oh yeah," Josh said, and began to wash me.

"You got a boner, so I get to suck you," he said.

"Yeah, Joshy," I said, looking warmly into his clear blue eyes,
"but let's finish washing and do it in bed."

"Fine with me," he said, as I brought him in close for a kiss.  I
hoped Josh was as dizzy as I was from the kiss--it was fantastic.

When little bro went behind me to wash my back, he gasped.

"Kev--oh God, it's so red.  A big raised red spot."

"Cool," I said, smiling to myself.  "So, kiss it."

Obediently, Josh knelt and started kissing my ass.

"Mmm, nice, bro!"

"It feels hot.  The red part, I mean."

I put my hand on my right butt cheek.  "Yeah it does.  Feels
okay, though."

We finished our shower and dried off.  Josh had gone soft,
mostly.  Was he still scared he'd gone too far with his painful
slap?  I, however, was hard as a rock.

As we walked to the beds, I saw him head for his own bed.  I
turned toward him and cleared my throat.  Josh turned, saw my
bone, and flew over to me and hopped in my bed.   He started to
slide down me, his head going toward my cock.

"Let's sit up a while and chill.  We got lots of time."

Josh was fidgety, but he agreed.

At first, we sat up in bed, saying nothing, just relaxing from
the stress of the day.  As we rubbed each others back to relieve
some of the soreness, I felt my brother relax.

Soon we were settled down, both on our backs, talking quietly, my
hand sliding unconsciously over Josh's nipples, and his hand
gently rubbing my hair.  We were rubbing our feet together, too.

"Play with me."  My ever-cuter sexy brother said it in just the
right tone.

I hadn't heard those words from him in so long, it took me back
to when he was 5 years old and I was 7.  My mind's eye saw us
playing in the sandbox, then on the swings in the playground.

But unlike his constantly-moving body at age 5, he lay perfectly
still now.  Damn, he didn't mean go outside and play.  It was
this new, intimate play he referred to, I thought to myself.

"Um," I said, turning toward him and sounding as dumb as a box of
rocks.

"Um?"

"Um, yeah.  Do you think I'd turn you down?"

Josh grinned.  "Not really."

"Where should I start?"

I thought he'd point to his lips, but he pointed to his neck
instead.  Instantly, I was on him, kissing his neck and dragging
my lips slowly toward his cock.  He did say 'play' and not sex,
so I guess it wasn't time for a blow job.

I got up, looking constantly into his boyish expectant eyes, and
facing him, I knelt between his legs.  Our exchange of smiles at
that moment was priceless.  Lowering my face to his groin, I
rested my chin just short of touching him.  My tongue went to his
tight little scrotum.

My little brother jumped as my tongue made contact.  But that
didn't stop me.  I continued gently licking his tight balls.  It
took me a minute to realize something--Josh's sac was hairless.

"Josh--you have no hair on your balls."  I looked up at him,
grinning approvingly.

"Yeah.  I see you like that."

"Yupper.  But, um--do you shave 'em or . . . "

"Nah, I'd never do that.  I just don't have the hair like you
do."

Then I let my hand accompany my mouth to experience the full joy
and sensuality of my brother's boy-like sac.  My heart pounded
along with my rising cock.

The sweet sensuality of his hairless balls--their fabulous
smoothness, the hint that Josh was still a boy, the heavenly look
of the unspoiled, perfect skin there--is an image in my mind, and
warmth in my heart that nothing can erase.

I didn't know then, to suck them one at a time, I just let my
mouth engulf both of his nice boy-sized balls, and ever so
gently, I licked and prodded them with my tongue.

Josh continued with strong jerks of his body at each new touch to
his sensitive scrotum, but gradually that eased into a more calm
sensual feeling for him, judging by his soft moans.  I was ready
to move on to his penis, and adore his penis.  Apparently he had
been thinking.

"Kev--I . . . I never thought I'd do anything like this . . . to
be into--you know, this kind of stuff."

As he spoke, I stopped and raised my head, to respect his
thoughts with my full attention.  He smiled when I did that.

"I'm okay with it, Joshy," I said, using that name as I sometimes
did to reassure him in stressful times.  "Why?  Do you feel
guilty?"

"I mean--yeah, I do."

"Oh, man," I said in a sinking tone.  I'd been afraid this might
happen.

"I feel guilty that I'm not feeling guilty," my brother said, a
grin from ear to ear.

"Shit--me, too," I said, faking a worried look which morphed into
a smile.

"Oh--what should we do?" he said, reverting to much earlier times
when I needed to comfort him often.

We both grinned at our playacting--the boy in each of us came out
strongly now.  It was a wonderful feeling.

"I'll tell you what we should do.  I should tell you that I think
your hairless balls are the fuckin' sexiest thing I know."

"Not my dick?" he said, looking a little disappointed, but with
his elation shining through.

"Well, I'll examine that next.  And it's not a dick, it's a cock.
Yours is bigger than mine."

This he accepted on face value but didn't throw it in my face.

I quickly shifted my attention to his cock, and was startled how
sexy it looked not quite hard, gently curved, its red tip quietly
hinting at the power resting within.  Grasping this wonderful
part of my younger brother, I marveled at its perfection.  The
smooth, white and pink skin, its newness, it's unused boyish
look--virginal, sacred almost--unblemished.

Moving it around with my hand, I examined his exquisite penis
from all angles, taking more time that he had when doing
similarly with mine.  I didn't know my dick size, but whatever it
was, Josh was an inch longer and a lot thicker, compared with me.

The pure whiteness of his shaft contrasted nicely with the baby-
pink of his flared tip.  The proportions were perfect--a long
thick shaft, ramrod straight when erect, with a wider head that
even looked like a pleasure center.  The whole cock had an air
about it that announced it was a no-nonsense tool that would get
what it wanted--yet Josh didn't act aggressively.  Maybe it was
the great thickness of his cock.  Maybe I was projecting my own
sexual feelings on him.  Even so, his penis excited me--a fact
that had been confirmed many times by the throbs of my own hard
pole.

"I guess you like it," he said cutely and softly.

That's when I realized I had a raging hardon.  "Yeah, I do," I
said, feeling the heat rise in my face.  Now he had made ME
blush.

"I like it and I love it."  That made him smile.  I knew he was
going to say something.

"I kinda feel the same way," Josh said, his cock totally hard
now.

"About your cock?"

"Yeah, but--no, about YOURS."

I didn't dare ask him about his girlfriend, hoping against hope
that he didn't want her anymore.  Was my little bro gay now, from
our summer of lovemaking?  I was sure I was.

I slithered up his tight, sexy body and kissed him.  A very soft
kiss.  When Josh's breath quickened almost instantly, I pressed
into him harder, getting the same from him in response.

"Damn, that's sweet," I said--realizing from his viewpoint I
could have meant the kiss, his cock, my cock, or whatever.

I wanted to take our newfound relationship to the next level, and
gently grasped his arms, sliding my hands up to his wrists.
After extending his arms fully straight out, I pinned them to the
bed.  I placed my legs directly on top of his.  Face to face, I
covered him completely, and there wasn't an inch of the front of
him that my body wasn't touching.

We stayed that way in silence, only our accelerating breaths
telling the story that we both loved this--me subduing my little
brother, and Joshua submitting to my body, letting it press him
down into the bed.

"Ohh," he moaned, the upward throb of his cock proclaiming his
enjoyment.

"That nice cock of yours ready for more?" I asked playfully.

"No.  Just stay like that."

Eventually we began to sweat.  It became more and more difficult
to stay perfectly aligned on top of him--parts of me kept sliding
off him, to one side or the other.  Josh's cock poked up at me.
Mine was hopelessly hard and precuming.

"Oh, yeah," I moaned, feeling as if I had floated up to a new,
powerful sensual realm.

Josh was strangely quiet as the thought came to me examine his
bottom to see if it was devoid of hair as his balls were.

I carefully slid off him, and down, to grasp his legs and lift
them.  As I started to examine his butt, he sensed my
awkwardness, and held his legs up for me, freeing both my hands.

There was no visible hair on Joshua's tight mounds.  There had to
be some in his crevice, I thought, as my thumbs spread his cheeks
apart for a look.  My other fingers softly brushed the sweet
smooth flesh of his butt cheeks.  There was barely a wisp of hair
in my brother's crack.  My dick throbbed upward, poking one of
the tight mounds of his ass.

"I'm ready he said," just as I was about to lower his legs.

I didn't answer right away--trying to figure out what he meant.
When it hit me, I was stunned.  This was too much, too soon, if I
was right about his meaning.  I finally thought of a way to
handle it that would not take from what he might be offering me.

"Yeah, bro.  I know you are," I said tenderly, lowering his legs
to the bed.  It was the need to comfort him that prompted my
words, but actually, I didn't know what I was talking about.
Instinctively, I knew that if he was satisfied with my response
and dropped the subject, he was giving me the lead.

I wasn't sure what I would do with the lead.  I had my fears--
that fucking him would hurt him too much.  And if he fucked me,
would that remind him of his previous experiences with that act,
which were all heterosexual?  Was the top role in the act of
copulation irreversibly linked in his mind to the opposite sex?
I didn't want to go there--yet I lusted after him.  I lay back
down over my brother.

"Mmm," he said, seeming pleased.

There was always the possibility that I had read too much into
his words, or misread them.  I had a plan to test the waters, in
spite of a desperate tendency to think with my other head at that
moment.

"Feel good, Josh?"

An agreeable moan was his only response.

Maybe I should suck him, or suggest a sixty-nine.  I had to do
something, say something.  Then I thought of the thing I really
wanted to say.

"I love you, Joshua."

"Oh God, Kev.  I've been hoping you'd say that.  I love you so
much."

The next kiss was incredible--our hands all over each other as
our body temperatures soared.  We made love with our joined lips
and our hands.

Josh solved the problem of what to do next by impaling his mouth
on my cock.  My body jumped with excitement.  It would be my turn
to suck his sweet pole soon.  I drooled at the idea.

I didn't want to cum now.  I was scared, but I had other ideas.

--Steve
stevestoryman@yahoo.com