Date: Tue, 17 Dec 2002 21:41:23 -0500
From: Cyp Reed <three@dreamwriter.us>
Subject: THREE

WARNING: This story contains sexually-explicit information involving
alternative sexualities. Do not read the contents if they will offend
you. If accessing this story causes you to break local laws (village, town,
city, county, province, state, or country, etc.), please leave now.


Last Christmas was the first time all of us have been at home together
since Dad died. My oldest brother, Tommy, runs the ranch so he's always
around, and now he has a new wife; I guess we're getting to be a bunch of
old married guys. Chip brought his family from California, and Holly
managed to get away from the hospital for a week so we could show up with
our kids. Mom liked this a lot, and I liked being back with my brothers in
the house where we grew up. Just being there together always brings back
things we haven't thought about or done since we left home.

The Friday before Christmas, Mom took all the wives shopping in the nearest
big town (about forty-five minutes away) and hired somebody to shepherd the
kids on a tree-cutting outing. The cook would come in time to make supper;
meanwhile, Tommy, Chip, and me were on our own. No problem; we don't get
bored.

When I came down to breakfast, no one was around. Tommy's truck was parked
by the barns so he was either in the rice fields or with the horses. Chip
was probably still asleep. Everybody else had already left. I ate something
and went to my old room to do my morning workout. I stripped down to some
undershorts Holly just gave me. I hadn't had a shower, and when I started
to sweat, my hands, face, and crotch, were giving off girl smells from the
night before. I was pretty happy with myself.

Sure enough, Chip showed up when I was about forty minutes into my
workout. He'd showered and shaved. His hair was still wet, slicked back off
his face. He had on jeans and a flannel shirt, half-open, not tucked
in. Barefoot. This pretty much told me everything I wanted to know about
how my next-to-oldest brother wanted to spend the morning. Chip knows that
when he scrapes the hair back from his face the whole world gets hot. He
has darker hair than me with bluer eyes, and he has this really sexy
mouth. Sometimes I'm surprised looking at him is not illegal.

We talked about ordinary stuff while I finished. I was doing sit-ups, my
feet toward Chip, watching him watch my abs. I guess I looked okay too
'cause for about five minutes he didn't take his eyes off me. They were
getting narrower and darker until he almost looked mad. But this is not
mad, it's hungry. This look, when it comes from the right guy, is the
reason I have sex with men. When guys at my gym or on the street look at me
like this, it bounces off, but when some guy I really like (and there
haven't been that many) gives me that "I gotta have you" look and they're
starting to breathe through their mouth a little, my whole body says "come
get it." So my dick was starting to feel as hard and heavy as a baseball
bat, and it was shoving the waistband of those little shorts away from my
belly.

Chip kept talking, staring at me with no expression on his face. I didn't
give a damn what he was saying; I was ready, so I just took off the
shorts. That shut him up, and I watched the breathing in his chest until,
finally, this big grin started across his mouth, and he dove for my cock
face first. He came up long enough to say, "Goddamn, Bro, you smell like
pussy and sweat." He sucked hard and fast. I was ready to shoot from
anticipation anyway, and before I could get him to back off, I started to
come-just like that. Now all I wanted was my dick way down his throat so I
could feel that tight place. He wanted to hold me back so he could taste my
cum. We always fight about this, and he usually wins. The second I finish
shooting he scrambles up my body to cover my mouth with his. He takes my
head in both hands, and here's the surprise: he squirts my load into my
mouth and holds me there, his mouth open on mine, until I have to swallow
it. Then he lets me go and rolls on his back laughing like it's the best
joke he's ever played. This is pure Chip.

When I catch my breath, I undress him and start licking my way down his
stomach to his cock. "I don't want face, baby, I want ass," he says. He
gives me this look that I have never once said "no" to in my life, and I
lie down a happy man. When Chip looks at you, you know he feels it in his
dick, and you know he was put on this planet to fuck. I don't care if he's
had half the people we grew up with (which he has); right now he wants me,
only me, and he'll give me everything he has to give. He finds some greasy
stuff right where we left it last time, and he's gentle, a lot of kissing
on my ears, neck, chest. He takes his time until he gets his cock as far
into me as he can, and he holds it there, gripping my arms hard and rocking
his pelvis against my ass for a long time. When he cums, he's buried inside
me, barely moving except for his mouth, whispering all over my face. He's
so goddamned good-looking and so good it breaks my heart.

II

I left him in my room asleep and went to take a shower, everything about me
pink with heat and friction. When I finished, I looked at myself in the big
mirror in the bathroom, thinking of you and realizing I don't know how to
answer the questions you asked about how I look. I know I like to be looked
at, but I've never tried to describe what I think people see. So I'm
looking at myself, wondering what to tell you. I just bought some pants; a
size 30 fits in the waist but they're too tight in the ass. I wear a size
twelve shoe. I have really long legs and arms; it's hard to find a shirt
that fits right; either the neck's too big or the shoulders are too narrow,
and the arms are almost always too short. But that just tells you what size
I am; it doesn't tell you what I look like. Hell, I don't know. I'm
angular, and I can never build up much body fat, so you can see my muscles
under my skin. They're long because swam so much in college-still do; I
love the mindless burn of being in the water for hours. Been working on my
abs; I'm proud of 'em. I'm fair-skinned and almost blond, and I don't have
much body hair above the waist, but there's plenty hair on my legs and even
a little on my ass. My mouth is full, and my nose is broken (thanks to
Tommy). It's not so bad that people walk up to me and say who mashed your
face, not even bad enough to get it fixed, I guess, but not perfectly
straight. I have deep set eyes, kind of blue, but not as blue as Chip's.

Looking at myself in the mirror is giving me a sort of half-boner because
I'm thinking about you looking at me and liking what you see. And I'm
imagining I can see you naked and you're this perfect shape, and I want to
feel your hands on me.

The door to the bathroom opens, and Tommy walks in behind a gust of cool
air. I just look at him; I can't say anything when he looks like this. My
heart's thumping in my throat. He's got on a cowboy hat and boots and muddy
jeans and his coat. He doesn't say anything either, but this doesn't
surprise me. He walks over to me and puts both his hands behind my neck and
pulls me to him and starts kissing me-just like always, except we haven't
done this since before I left home. The fog is evaporating off the
mirror. The buttons on his coat are cold, and his hands are cold on my neck
(and I don't like where they are), and my cock doesn't know whether to go
up or down, and my nuts feel like they're going to disappear. I could yell
my lungs out, and no one would hear me. (We're in a wing of the house that
is the boys' bedrooms downstairs and guest rooms upstairs, way away from
everything else-part of how we were able to raise so much hell when we were
kids.) But I don't have time to think about it and probably not much choice
anyway. All I know is this is Tommy, and he smells just like the horse he's
been riding, and his tongue is down my throat so far I can barely
breathe. So I start kissing back hard and hold on for dear life, and when
he picks me up, I wrap my legs around his waist and think, just don't kill
me, man, okay?

Tommy's a big guy, over 6'3, and he outweighs me by 30 or 40
pounds. Football big, thick neck, a lot of back and shoulders, big
thighs. He's not heavy; there's just plenty of him, and he's strong as
hell-he runs the ranch, fixes combines, trains horses-real work, every
day. He has dark, wavy hair, and he always needs a haircut (and usually a
shave), brown eyes, deep-set over wide cheekbones, a mouth that would be
cruel if it weren't so pretty, and a vertical scar on his chin that gets
red when he's mad. We look like brothers but not as much as Chip and I do.

Tom turns me around in front of him so we're both facing the mirror; he
looks at me, rubbing his hands up and down my chest and stomach. I'm hard
as a post. He bends me over onto the counter and shucks his pants down to
his ankles. I've knocked is hat off, but he's still wearing his boots and
coat.

"Hold up, guy, let me get something greasy, I mutter."

He doesn't say anything, but he lets me go and takes off his clothes while
I'm rummaging around for some grease. His dick is sticking straight
up. It's bigger than I remember, fatter than Chip's or mine. I lean over
the counter again, thinking this is going to hurt. When he gets up close, I
stand on top of his feet because his legs are longer than mine. He starts
rubbing vaseline on my ass, sliding a finger in real slow and easy, again
and again. Tommy's usual style is more like he's trying to break a horse,
so I think maybe he's learning something from being married. He kisses my
back and spreads my ass apart and starts probing me with his dick. I'm
pretty open because Chip was just here, and Tom's being good to me, so it
doesn't hurt. In fact, it feels incredible.

Finally, he pushes so far inside me I can barely stand it, but man I'm
willing to try. And I'm watching his stomach muscles in the mirror when he
starts into me with long strokes. Then I stand up so I can see myself
too. I stick my ass out and put my arms over my head to hold onto the back
of his neck. He's stroking my dick, which is greasy from his hands, and
he's having to bend his knees for leverage, so his face is about even with
mine over my shoulder. His face! I wish you could see Tommy's face!
Sometimes he tilts his head back and breathes heavy out of his mouth;
sometimes he bites my neck, licks my ears. He's speeding up. I'm getting
off on looking at him, looking at myself. My muscles are knotting under my
skin; behind me, his denser, bulkier body tensing. He starts to bite me
hard, stroking my cock with his farmboy hand until I send ropes of white
onto the counter. Then he bends me forward onto my pool of cum, and lets
himself loose in me. I'm saying his name over and over; he's growling, then
he's roaring, his face contorted, his hips slamming against my ass.

His body jerks, twitches for a long time after he cums. He puts his arms
around me and holds me tight, his face on my back. It's wet, and his hair's
wet against me. I don't know if it's sweat or if he's crying; I can't
tell. I want to be here for a long time with him inside me-because I like
it and because I'm afraid of what he's going to be like when he stands up
again.

"You're my brother," he whispers. It's the first thing he's said that could
pass for a word. It's also the same thing he said right after he broke my
nose. I look at him in the mirror, and I still can't be sure if his eyes
are wet or not. He pulls out and turns me toward him and starts licking my
cum off my stomach all the way down to my cock. Then he puts my dick in his
mouth, really tentative like some teenager who thinks it's going to spit at
her, and he starts to give me this terrible amateur blow job. If Chip did
this, I'd know it was one of his pranks, and I'd push him down and fuck his
face, but this is Tommy. Tommy, who's maybe had my cock in his mouth three
times in his life and never, never after he's cum. It's too weird.

I say, "Hey it's cool; I just came, man. Why don't you take a shower?"  He
nods, says nothing. As soon as he gets under the water, I split.

III

The day after Christmas was really warm. We all had lunch together at
Mom's, the kids running in the yard while the grownups finished
dessert. We're drinking coffee when Tommy says to Holly, "Okay if I take my
little brother away for a couple of hours? We've got some business to do."
(Naturally, he hasn't asked me if I want to go with him.)  Holly gives him
a big, sincere smile and says, "Take him anywhere you want to, Tom; just
make sure he's not too tired or drunk to show me a good time when he gets
home."  She knows, right?  We never talk about it. If she does, I think she
considers it family business and doesn't care as long as she gets what she
needs. She gets what she needs.

I'm not nervous today because Tommy's been in a good mood Instead I'm so
excited my hands are sweating. We head out to a pond in the woods that we
used to ride to when we were kids. It's beautiful and it's too far into the
property for anyone else to be there. Chip and I have had sex here lots of
times, but I've never had sex with Tommy outside in the daytime; he was
always more of a middle-of-the-night-with-no-warning kind of guy. He's
looking right at me, and talking to me, asking me if I remember things we
did when we were growing up. He stops the truck in the middle of a road and
pulls me over by the back of my neck to kiss him. It's hot, and it's a
little scary; he's almost never this friendly. This is going to be wild, I
think; my brain and my body are both going nuts. I want to fuck right here,
right now.

When we get to the pond, Tommy parks the truck in the sun. The trees are
bare. I remember lying in this field once, looking at a full moon framed by
the cheeks of Chip's ass; his cock was down my throat, and I was telling
myself I lived in one of the best places on earth. Tommy's all business,
spreading horse blankets on the bed of the truck, digging around in a
tackle box for some Coppertone that looks like it's left over from high
school. Then he takes my hand, TAKES MY HAND in the middle of the fucking
day, and says, "Let's walk."

He tells me he is sorry he's been so rough on me. He tells me what it was
like for him needing to have sex with me and then trying to live with
himself. He says he was never able to work out what was happening with him
and me until after I left home. These things take him a long time to say. I
just listen. I'm falling apart.

We go back to the truck, not talking now but Tommy still holding my hand,
climb into the back -- it's hot from the sun -- and take our clothes off. I
want his cock in my mouth really bad. And I want something else. I say,
"Lie down on your back and just be still for a little while, okay?" I never
tell him what to do; the blood is pounding in my ears. He's not hard when I
go down on him, but pretty soon he's more than a mouthful. I go slow until
he's starting to push his pelvis up to meet my mouth. Then I squirt some of
the Coppertone, into my hand and start rubbing it on his ass. I keep his
cock in my mouth at a steady rhythm and start nudging his asshole with my
middle finger. He's gripping closed. Finally, he lets me in, a little at a
time, squeezing my finger every few seconds. I'm giving him the best
blowjob I know how to give, partly because I want to distract him from
where I'm headed. He starts to relax; then I'm afraid he's going to cum
before I get where I want to be, so I start sucking his balls, one at a
time. Tom jumps, laughs, squirms -- he doesn't like it -- so I lean over
him and start kissing him while I rub grease on my dick. Yep.

When I put the head of my cock against his ass, he says, "Wait, man. You
know...I've never done this. I don't know...."

I tell him, "I was counting on that." It takes a hell of a long time, but
I've got forever, and eventually I'm inside him pretty far, and he's
starting to let me move around. I think about the look on his face, about
keeping him right on the edge of cuming but not too close; I think about
anything but the fact that I'm in my brother Tommy's ass, or I will shoot
in a second.

He's making noise and breathing hard through his mouth. The fact that he's
getting into it makes me so hot I start to fuck him harder, deeper. At
first he winces, then he starts saying real low, "It hurts, man, it
hurts. Then louder, "STOP!  It HURTS!"

I'm not into hurting people, but I'm coming a little unglued. I yell at
him, "Of course it hurts, you fuckin dick, I've been telling you it hurt
since I was fifteen years old."

He shuts up, but I see his eyes glaze over, and I know he's trying to tune
out so he can handle the pain. I crack him in the face with the back of my
hand twice before he can stop me.

"DON'T!  DON'T DO IT AGAIN," he yells. It's exactly what I say to my two
year old when he's out of control. I know better than to struggle with
Tommy; we both know he can throw me out of this truck without getting up if
he wants to. Instead, he locks my eyes with his and pulls my face up close
and says, "It was just need before; now it's something else. I'm letting
you inside more than my body." I'm losing my hard-on; I'm losing my mind.

Then he's kissing me in long, deep breaths that start to calm me down. I
ride him easier, but I need to be far enough inside to make him wince. When
he takes my head between his hands and whispers, "I want you, I want you,"
I start to roll like thunder. I'm fucking him hard again, but he's not
yelling now, he's just saying my name. His cock is solid in my grip, and
his face is so beautiful I could die. I might as well die so much of me
shoots into his ass. There is nothing left to me but a hand squeezing his
dick until his body curls into one long contraction under me. No sound
except cum splattering on his chest.

He starts to cry like some teenager who hasn't bothered to tell you until
it was too late that you were going to pop her cherry. I don't know what to
do about this, and for a little while I do just what he's always done when
I cried, which is nothing. But I don't leave him. I pull out of his ass and
lay my whole body on his, and I hold him as tight as I can. I just hang on
until eventually he stops.

"You, okay, Tom?"

"Yeah. My ass feels like somebody parked a truck in it, but I'm okay."

For Tommy, this is big time humor, so we laugh, puddles of his cum sticking
our stomachs together. I'm still on top of him, and I just stay there,
afraid to look at his face. Maybe we doze; all I know is that as soon as
the sun disappears behind a tree its too cold to lie there. "We should go,"
I say, "we ought to be home."

......

This is the whole story of THREE. I have another one posted in the High
School section; it's called BURRHEAD.

Comments and criticism are welcome at three@dreamwriter.us