Date: Tue, 09 Mar 2004 10:25:40 -0500
From: A. Cheshire Cat <kierkegaard_is_cool@hotmail.com>
Subject: What I Didn't Know

What I Didn't Know
By: A. Cheshire Catt
March 6, 2004
Email comments to kierkegaard_is_cool@hotmail.com

My brother and I had stayed home for some reason, I don't know why now, this
is some years ago. It was probably spring, I remember it was too rainy to
run around outside. He is five years older than I was, so he was probably
about to finish high school and I was about to start. I remember that phase
in my life as one of sexual confusion. I was always horny, always
masturbating, always trying to find something sexual to satiate my desires.
He'd probably shagged fifty girls by then, or so it seemed, by the way he
went on about them. I was scrawny, not a pimple on me, and even free of
pubic hair. He was darker in complexion from working outside with my father
and I was pale from always being in my room jerking off.
I can't really remember what we were doing. I'll say it was a strange game
of tag involving only the two of us. He always wrestled me down and
sometimes he hurt me, but most of the time we just played around and then
when we were tired we'd sit around. So this day, so plain and ordinary, was
the last of all that.
Around the house we tore a path of screaming and laughing. I'd taunt him and
he'd get sort of upset and then he'd catch me and I'd have to free myself
from him. Mom and Dad weren't going to be home for some time.
We were in the kitchen, at the table, I was on one end and he was on the
other. I darted left, so he darted right -- I darted right, he darted left --
there was no where to go. I was left with only one option: taunt him and
make him make the first move. I stuck out my tongue.
"Dude," he heckled, knotting his face, "what's that supposed to do?"
He stuck his out at me. True enough, sticking a tongue out doesn't do
anything.
In retaliation I opted to seduce him in a weird way, like the girls do on
television when they want to lure some guy in to a darkened room. I licked
my lips, slowly, and instinctively and gently stroked my chest.
"Holy fuck dude, what's that?"
"I don't know," I said, and gave up on that.
"Do you even know what you were doing?"
"I was trying to make you do something, move or something, so I could get
you to chase after me." We were both sort of out of breath again.
"Okay," he said, relaxing, "do it again, this time I'll show you what you
wanted me to do."
So this time I did it, I got a lot of saliva ready and glistened my lips
with it, and stuck my hand inside my shirt to rub the flesh of my narrow
chest.
Suddenly he was unbuckling his belt.
"What are you doing?" I was confused.
"I'm going to give you what you wanted."
He opened up his pants and let them fall. I could see his cock underneath
the fabric of his boxers wobbling around. "Now come here, if this is what
you want."
I could not, for the life of me, have told you that it was what I wanted,
but it seemed like he wanted it. I can't really explain it. It was as if, by
accident, I had pushed a button of his I had never pushed before. I blushed.
"Come on, come here and get on your knees."
"What are you going to do?" I was thinking he was going to wrestle me.
"I'm not going to do anything, you're going to do all the work."
I hesitated and came closer.
"Hurry up, before mom and dad get home you fag."
Fag?
I did as he said. When I got closer, he put his hand on my shoulder and
pushed me down on my knees. With a booming voice he said, "Do that lip thing
again, look really hungry this time, tell me with your eyes and your tongue
that all you want is my cock."
Drama-queen at heart, I did my best. I conjured up all the times in my life
I'd craved something, been hungry and horny and gave him that look of desire
that would be unparalleled. This was the first time I wanted some cock.
He swooned, "Oh yes." His cock got hard in his plaid cotton boxers and he
pulled it out and slid it down the side of my smooth pink face, it left a
trail of precum behind. He rubbed it along my lips and I felt it for the
first time, that sweltering hot poker of manhood, smelling the warmth of all
the musty neglect of my brother's adolescence suddenly blooming from his hot
crotch. He sort of moaned and suggested I put it all the way in my mouth.
Perhaps being a tart-at-heart I slowly did this, seducing every swollen
cellular microcosm down his long brown-skinned shaft.
He finally, frustrated with my adagio, found my hair with his fingers and
thrust me onto his cock, gagging me, frightening me, but unrelenting in his
advances I found myself thrown into a fever-pitch of an allegro. I was the
instrument, the lust was the music, but he was all in control. He grunted
and groaned like a beast, cursed like our father does, sounded just like him
in so many ways, but when I looked up at him ... He was strong, and his arms
were gentle in their rapture. He looked at me, he smirked and naughty grin,
knowing he could use me like this now anytime he wanted. I stroked his long
hard-on with enthusiasm and efficiency. I put my arm at the waist-band of
his boxers and tugged them then buried his cock in my mouth again.
He was grinding his hips with the beat of the allegro, pounding my face,
making me slobber, making his wet all over his scrotum. I reached in with my
other hand and massaged him, grabbed his whole sack in my fist and he
wheezed.
"I'm gonna cum bro."
But I didn't let go, and he unleashed in my mouth a torrent of his semen. I
swallowed the gushing goo, and finally he pulled out, letting me relax a
bit.
We went into the living room then, quietly, and turned on the television. We
sat in different chairs and stared at the flickering blue screen.
He said, "Fuck she's hot, eh?" He was talking about some news anchor. I
couldn't believe it. He was still straight. I felt so disappointed. He
looked at me, "Are you horny now too, I suppose?"
I nodded.
"Well then, go wank yourself little faggot."
More because I was so insulted than anything else, I did go to my room and
turned on some music. Two minutes later he came in and sat on the bed. He
said, "I'm not a fag bud, but you give a blow job, maybe I can live up to
your standards."
I lay on my bed and he tugged on my jeans until my little pecker aimed at
the ceiling, untouched my anything but my own hand. He chuckled, "It's so
small."
I cringed and rolled over.
"No, no, I didn't mean that, it's going to get huge. I mean, have you ever
seen Dad's. We're blessed in this family."
He'd seen Dad's?
"Sure I have, and he has a big sack too. It's all huge."
He touched me then, very softly, and it sent electricity through my whole
body.
"Wow, you really like it."
I nodded.
He leaned over and started sucking on it, just the tip to start. I closed my
eyes and imagined him doing it, opened my eyes and still saw it. I breathed
and let him do all the work. I squirmed a bit. It felt too good, I was going
to cum very quickly. My brother took the whole pecker in his mouth. It was
so hot, it was as if I had stuck my entire youth in an oven and was now
baking it on high. I was rising even.
He licked his finger and rubbed my scrotum area and found my ass hole. I had
never felt anything like it before. He lifted his head. "Someday I'll put
more in there than my finger." I didn't care right then about anything.
He returned to sucking it and within a few more rough strokes of his tongue
I came in his mouth.
"Ah, dude, you should tell me when you're going to do that."
"Sorry, I didn't know."