Date: Tue, 17 May 2005 17:55:35 -0700 (PDT)
From: Arnold Layne <arnoldlayne69@yahoo.com>
Subject: Older Brother, Home for the Summer

Older Brother, Home for the Summer
By Bacteriaburger

      I'm going to tell this story to the best of my abilities, though it's
been awhile since my friend told it to me.  I hope I can do it justice.
	My friend's name is Eric.  That's his real name, you can be sure,
because I'm terrible at making them up.  Anyway, Eric grew up in the house
down the street from me, with his Mom, Dad and older brother Tom.
      I used to be pretty good friends with Eric, but I lost contact with
him once I went off to college.  Over the years I'd heard through the
back-home gossip grapevine that Eric was gay, and I was pretty sure he knew
I was, too.  It was strange, because neither of us had been "out" in high
school, and I'd always been hot for him.
      Anyway, I was home for Thanksgiving one time, years after I'd
graduated from college, and I stopped in at the local tavern. I saw Eric
there, we got to talking, and drinking.  Eventually he told me this story.

	Eric was a sophomore in high school at the time.  His brother Tom
had been in college for a year.  He looked up to his brother, who was
definitely the jock/overachiever type.  When his older brother came home
for the summer, Eric was looking forward to spending some time with him.
	Now he'd known he was gay for a little while now.  And he was also
pretty aware that his brother was a good-looking guy, even a hot guy,
though he didn't really let himself think of his brother in "that way."
They were close, they'd seen each other naked numerous times, and they were
comfortable talking about their bodies, talking about sex.  In the year
since Tom had been gone, however, Eric had really come to terms with his
sexuality.  And now that his brother was back, and looking just about as
good as he ever had, he felt a little weird around him.  Nervous.
	Now I can definitely vouch for Eric's brother Tom being a
good-looking guy.  He was your classic jock type, tall and fit, but with an
incredibly toned and muscular body.  Nice pecs, tight ass, v-shaped pelvis,
the whole deal.  On top of that he had a handsome face with sandy blond
hair.  Eric looked a lot like him, only he was shorter.
	So Eric's just hanging around the house all summer beating off and
whatnot, while his brother is out mowing lawns and doing odd jobs around
the neighborhood.  Then Tom is coming home all fucking sweaty and hot, and
Eric's totally checking him out but at the same time trying to fight these
thoughts, knowing they're supposed to be unnatural.  He catches himself
thinking of his brother while he's beating off, and tries to force the
thoughts out of his head.  But it's of no use.
	"Like if I told you, `Do not think of a white polar bear,' that'd
be exactly what you would think of.  You can't control it," he said to me.
	But it's not always tense between them.  Basically, they're pretty
glad to see each other, and they're hanging out a lot, playing badminton in
the backyard, trading stories and information.  Being brotherly.  But Eric
can't stop staring at his brother's body.  He wants to touch it, play with
it, explore it.  He can't help it, but he's definitely keeping it to
himself.

      So one day, Eric's brother gets home from cutting the neighbor's
lawn.  He goes into his room, and shuts the door.  Eric is particularly
horny, and he thinks of a reason to go to his brother's room, sort of
thinking in the back of his head that maybe he can catch a glimpse of his
brother's half naked (or fully naked) body, but not really articulating
that thought to himself.  He's just thinking, "Tom will want to see this
new comic I got."  So he goes to his brother's door and he knocks, and Tom
answers it.
	His brother is still in his shorts, his tanned, muscular body
gleaming with sweat.  He lets Eric in, though he seems a little distracted,
and Eric shows him the comic and asks him what he's up to right now.
	Tom gets a queer look on his face, and for a minute it seems like
he's debating something in his mind.  Then his face spreads into a grin,
like he's thinking 'fuck it, whatever.'
	"I was gonna check out some of my porn.  I brought a bunch of it
back from school," he says.  Eric's heart leaps into his chest, his stomach
bunches up into a pink, fleshy knot, but he keeps his cool.  His brother
pulls a cardboard box out of his closet.  "Check out all this shit," he
says.  It's filled with a veritable treasure trove of porn: Playboys,
Penthouse Forums, videos, comix.  All kinds of stuff.
	"Oh, man," Eric says, definitely excited.  Even though he's gay, he
likes straight porn.  Pretty much anything will do when you're at that age.
	"Have at it," Tom says, and they both start rifling through the
box.  Eric takes out a couple of magazines, and makes some attempts at
favorable comments on the naked girls in the pages.  "You can borrow
anything you want," Tom says.  "I know what it was like at your age."
	Tom pulls out a video, Anal Black Cheerleader Gang-Bang or
something like that.  "This one's really hot," he says, and without further
ado, he just walks right over to his VCR and pops it inside.  Then he flips
on the TV and sits back on the chair.
	 "This is the best scene," Tom says, rewinding the tape with a
remote control.  Eric is sitting on the edge of the bed, still rifling
through the porn box out of nervousness, but glancing up at the video.  He
can't see his brother unless he turns his head.  On the TV, a black girl is
sucking on a white guy's enormous cock.
      Now up until this point, Eric hasn't really seen that much hardcore
porn.  His family doesn't have a computer, so his only exposure to it was
at a sleepover at another boy's house, when the four of them nervously
stole a porn tape out of his father's den and watched it with the volume
turned way down.  He'd been hard as a rock then, and he was sure his
friends had been, too, but nothing had happened.  They'd watched the tape,
blew a few of their innocent minds in the process, and went to sleep with
wet dreams dancing in their heads.
	But this is different.  He's with his brother, for one thing, in
the privacy of his brother's room, and even though he's got this weird
fascination^×bordering on infatuation^×with his brother's body, he's still
more comfortable here than he was at the sleepover.  His brother's being
totally cool with him, treating him like an equal.
	They're both watching the movie, and it doesn't take Eric more than
a second to get a full hard on.  Still, his brother is making funny
comments about the movie, and he joins in so he won't sound like a total
idiot.  "That guy's dick is huge," Eric says, and his brother agrees.
"That's why this scene is so hot," his brother adds.
	Just then he thinks he hears something from behind him, that just
might be the sound of elastic stretching and softly snapping back, but he
doesn't dare turn around.  He's beside himself, going back and forth
between absently looking at the porn in the box, and watching the movie.
Eventually he hears it, the unmistakable sound of wet flesh being
manipulated, of tense, tight breathing coming from behind him.
	Eric freezes.  What the fuck is he supposed to do?  Turn around?
Say something lame like, "Are you beating off?"  Finally, his brother owns
up.
	"So fuckin horny," his brother says.  Eric turns around, and there
it is.  His brother's got his shorts around his thighs, and his thick prick
in his hand.  His cock is gleaming in the late afternoon sunlight, wet with
pre-cum or sweat, he can't tell, and it's big.  Just about his big as his
own, no--bigger.  It's hard to tell.  Underneath it sit a pair of soft
balls, a curling thicket of light brown pubes.  Nothing he hasn't glanced
at before, but at this moment it seems completely different to him, almost
alien.
	Tom returns his glance.  "Gotta beat off," he says.  "You don't
mind, do you?"  Not that he thinks Tom would quit, even if Eric did mind.
As if.
	"No," Eric says, forcing himself to sound nonchalant.  No, don't
care if you beat off right here in the room with me.  Most natural thing in
the world.  Don't let me cramp your style.  Sure.  Whatever.  Eric turns
back to the movie, to the porn, not sure if he's coming or going, leaving
or staying.  No, definitely staying.  But what is he supposed to do?
	His brother starts to say something behind him, then he stops.  He
clears his throat.  Eric turns around.
	"Do you ever, like, play with your balls, when you beat off?"  Tom
asks, jiggling his balls in his free hand to illustrate.
	"Yeah," Eric says, and he laughs mostly out of nervousness, but his
brother picks it up and the laughter seems to diffuse the situation
somewhat, takes it down a notch on the newness factor.  "Dude, you can beat
off too, if you want to," he says.  "I mean whatever, it's just us here,
right?"
	Eric almost tells him no.  Almost wants to run right out of the
room and leave his brother to his own devices, retreat.  But that would be
stupid ^Ö no ^Ö inconceivable.  So he puts the box aside and he feels his
hard cock underneath his shorts.  Maybe not as big as Tom's, he thinks, but
still pretty big.  And I've got a nice patch of pubes.
	He stands up, and even though he's still turned to the TV he can
feel that his brother is watching him, is just as curious about his body as
he is about his brother's, and there's a comfort in that, a cold comfort.
Because when you get right down to it this is the most insane and
frightening thing that's ever happened to him.
	He pulls down his shorts and his cock pops right out, hard as a
rocket and there's no denying that, but he sits down quickly and focuses
his eyes on the movie, even though his mind is in several hundred different
places right then, none of which have anything to do with what's happening
on that TV screen.
	But it plays.  The black cheerleader bends over for the guy, and
he's sliding that big dick in her pussy.  Eric wraps his hand around his
prick and gives it a stroke, and it's really not that strange, really it
isn't.  Just like riding a bicycle, jerking off is, never mind the fact
that his brother is three feet behind him, doing exactly the same thing.
	They don't say anything for a while, just beat their meat.  Eric
swears he can feel his brother's eyes on him, but he doesn't dare look
back.
	"Awww, this part's really hot," his brother says, and he turns up
the volume on the TV.  The white guy is slathering something onto the black
chick's a-hole, and then he's pressing that big dick inside.  She's going
crazy, moaning out in pain or pleasure, it's hard to tell which.  Maybe
both.
	"Yeah.  Shit.  Have you ever seen anything like that?" his brother
asks him.
	"No," he says truthfully.  And then Tom does it.  The one thing
that, even though it's subtle, changes the scene completely.  He gets up
from his chair and pulls it right next to where Eric is sitting.  So now
they're right there beside each other, beating their cocks, and there's no
pretense about anything now.  His brother is watching him jerk off.
Inviting Eric to look at him jerking off.  And they do this, Eric taking
tentative glances at first, then relaxing as he realizes his brother is
gazing steadily at him, the movie all but forgotten.
	"Your dick's pretty big, actually.  Bigger than I remember mine
being at your age."
	Tom reaches over and takes Eric's in his hand.  Time stops.  Eric
has to fight the urge to cum right then and there.  His hands hover right
over where he'd been wanking himself, seconds before.  Now his brother is
doing it for him, stroking it, looking right at it as he does it, like he's
mesmerized.
	So Eric puts his hands down on the bed.  Leans back, and lets his
brother beat him off.  It's the most incredible thing he's ever felt.
	"You ever have anyone do this before?" Tom asks him.  Eric shakes
his head, shakes the trance.  "My buddies do this sometimes.  It's no big
deal."  Tom turns back to the movie, strokes his own cock with his right
hand while he strokes his brother's dick in the other.  "So fuckin horny,"
he says.
	They continue like this for a few minutes that seem to stretch on
like hours, the sweat collecting on their bodies, pre-cum flowing and
mixing with the sweat so Tom's palms are slick, pounding their poles in
unison.  Eric wants to feel his brother's dick, but the chair is too low in
relation to the bed to just nonchalantly reach over, without straining a
little to reach it, maybe making too much of a show of it, or at least
making more deliberate movement that Eric just isn't bold enough to make.
	"You want to feel mine?"  Tom asks, and he doesn't give Eric any
time to respond, and Eric's thinking in his head that any response,
negative or affirmative, would be embarrassing anyway.
	Tom stands before him.  And the smell^×-it had always been present
though he'd forgotten to mention it until this point in the story^×-the
smell is overpowering. His brother's sweat slicked sheen, a clean scent
that he said he could still smell in his mind right now.  His brother
stands before him, putting his dick right there, ripe for the picking.  Go
on, touch, feel, stroke, whatever.  It's yours.
	Eric tentatively reaches out his hand, touches his fingers to his
brother's dick.  He can't describe the feeling of that, can't even try.
But his brother's dick is hard and smooth and thick hot and sweaty, and he
wraps his hand around it, feeling the power there, and he strokes it up and
down.  His brother watches him.
	"Stand up," he says, so Eric stands up, and his brother is right
there before him, all the muscular athletic sweetly-smelling mass of him.
Tom takes Eric's dick into his hand, and they stroke each other off like
that, there in his brother's room, when nobody's home.
	Nobody's home, Eric remembers, and it's kind of a freeing thought.
It relaxes him a little.  His buddies do this sometimes.  It's no big deal.
	They start getting into it, fully involved in the business of
getting themselves and each other off.  Eric reaches down to cup his
brother's balls in his hands, which is vocally appreciated.  Then he runs
his hand up to his brother's flat stomach, feeling it just like he's felt
it in his fantasies, where it'd been so close yet so far.  He runs it
across the flat, sweaty tan expanse of it, moving it up up up...suddenly he
takes his hand away.  He thinks maybe he's gone to far, rewrote the rules
to suit himself.  Maybe Tom's buddies keep their hands strictly on each
other's dicks.  How can you be sure?
	"No, no, you can," his brother says, taking his hand and putting it
back on his body.  He keeps hold of Eric's hand for a minute, running it up
and down his chest, across his slab-like pecs, fat nipples and bulging
shoulders.  Then Tom lets his hand fall back to his side, and Eric takes up
exploration of his brother's magnificent body, sliding it across the taut
muscles underneath the smoothness of his fresh, sweat-sheened skin.
	"You like my body?" his brother asks, and his voice takes on a
different tone for the first time.  The question almost sounds like a
come-on.  "Feel it," he says.  "Touch it all you want.  Wherever you want."
Eric takes his hand off his brother's dick, feeling he needs two hands for
this job.  Tom raises his arms and puts his hands behind his head, giving
Eric free reign.  His brother's body is beautiful, a work of art really.
He explores every inch of his chest, down to his stomach, his thick thighs
and muscular calves.  He slides his hand back, on to the small of his
brother's back, glides it down to his tight, sweaty ass.  It's hard as a
rock and smooth as marble, and he's mesmerized.
	His hands move back to his brother's dick, both of his hands
wrapped around that pole, and his brother stays like that, hands behind his
head.  Do whatever you want.
	Eric sits back down on the bed, both hands still on his brother's
rock hard cock.  He's thinking it.  He's definitely thinking it.
	"You can suck it if you want," his brother says in a quiet breath,
but still Eric hesitates.  He's never sucked a cock before.  "Just lick it.
Or put your mouth around the end of it.  Taste it."  He does all of these
things, and in that order.  Soon he's got the head of his brother's big,
tasty dick in his mouth, and he's taking it in as far as he can go, relying
for direction half on fantasies of what he wants to do, and what he would
want done to himself.  "Stroke me while you're doing it.  Oh yeah.  Fuck
yeah," his brother continues still in a conspiratorial whisper.  Eric
continues and it is amazing, he's pretty much loving it, but it is kind of
new and he is kind of unsure of himself, so he takes his mouth off for a
little while and sits back on the bed, waiting for more direction from Tom.
	"You want me to suck you?" his brother asks, another of those
questions that don't really need any answer.  His brother gets down on his
knees before him, and sucks his cock right into his mouth and down his
throat like a vacuum cleaner.  Clearly, he knows what he's doing, but
whether that's from previous experience or just generally being older and
smarter about how to do things, Eric cannot say.  He kind of suspects the
former, though.
	The warmth, the slickness of feeling something like a mouth and a
tongue slide down your dick---for the first time, no less---well, it's only
a matter of seconds before Eric's cum is rising out of his balls.  Tom
doesn't slow down at all, he picks up speed, bobbing up and down on his
brother's prick like it's going out of style.
	"I'm gonna cum," Eric manages to squeak out, and whether his
brother didn't hear him or did hear him and didn't care, or did hear him
and didn't think he was serious, quickly becomes irrelevant.  The cum comes
flying out of him, just as surely and unstoppably insistent as the bullet
coming out of a gun, and his big brother Tom doesn't flinch, just sucks
away, gulps it down, swallows it all.
	Eric is catching his breath, still, when Tom stands up, his prick
looking impossibly even harder, the veins standing out in blood-fattened
relief.  Tom says nothing, just holds onto his little brother's shoulder as
he takes hold of his meat, giving it two or three quick, angry strokes
before it explodes onto Eric's body, searingly hot streams of cum
splattering, running down his face and chest.  He reaches out his tongue
and tastes some of the load of the end of his brother's prick, finds it's
not half bad.  Very much like his own.  He licks where some of it has
collected around his lips.  Very much like his own, but somehow hotter.
	Tom steps back and shakes the last few drops of cum onto the
carpet.  He wipes his mouth, then grabs a towel from the floor of his
closet and wipes his mouth and dick on that.  He hands the towel to Eric.
	"Here," he says.  "Shit, I covered you."  He turns off the porn
while Eric wipes the cum off his body, even though he was kind of enjoying
the feel of it, covering him.
	"Mom and Dad are gonna be home soon," his brother says.
	"Yeah," he agrees.
	"You want to take a shower first?"
	"Yeah I guess so," Eric says.  He says he wasn't disappointed that
his brother didn't offer to take a shower with him, even though the thought
of it crossed his mind.  It was actually kind of nice to get some distance
from him, just come down from it a little.
	Everything had changed and nothing had changed, he told me.  They
ate dinner that night just like they always had, and afterwards they sat
around and watched a movie that their dad had rented.
	Nothing happened for the next couple of days, and then it happened
again.  It was never discussed, but it kept happening, again and again, all
summer long.
	Tom moved back to school in August, and never returned to live at
home again.  Eventually he got married.
	"I'll never forget any of it," Eric told me.  "It was the best
summer of my life.  The most crazy, insane, out of control thing that ever
happened to me."
	I asked him if it had fucked him up.  He said it hadn't.  It had
felt fine, everything about it, and he never felt like he was fucking up
the laws of nature, or anything like that.
	But as we drank more beer, I managed to get out of him that he did
have some problems being around his brother now, that that was even one of
the reasons he was out of the house tonight, drinking his mind away.  His
brother was there, at home, still hot as ever, lying with his wife beside
him, and still so many things were unclear. He wondered if Tom remembered
the things they'd done, and more than that, he wondered *how* Tom
remembered them.
	"Sometimes I think I'm still infatuated with him," Eric said.
"Sometimes I think, you know, nobody'll ever measure up."

      We got a motel room and fucked, Eric and I, that Thanksgiving night.
And even though we were both into it, as drunk and horny as we were, and we
both shot enormous loads; I couldn't help but wonder, as Eric tasted the
remnants of my load off the end of my cock, if it tasted as good to him as
his big brother Tom's had, all those years ago.

The End

Comments: arnoldlayne69@yahoo.com