Date: Sat, 30 Dec 2000 08:05:58 -0700
From: markboy26@hotmail.com
Subject: Brother Love

I wake up, as usual, with a boner, needing to piss. I love laying in bed,
half asleep, the rich, ripe smell of my body in the sheets, my cock
straining in my briefs, my bladder full. It feels so fine to touch my body.
My fingers play over my chest, my nipples. I moan softly as I move my other
hand down to the bulge of my crotch, gently gripping, pressing, stroking
through the fabric of my briefs. I bring the hand that has been stroking my
cock and balls to my face. I have not changed my underwear for three days
and I can smell the musk of sweat and piss and cum on my palm.

I pull down the sheets so I can see my boner outlined in the stained fabric
of my cks. I can't keep my hands away and as I slowly stroke with my left
hand, my right massages my balls and moves below them so that my middle
finger presses into my crack, up against the ring of my hole, wet with
morning sweat and ass raunch. I push in and moan again, wanting to feel that
wetness through the fabric. I bring the finger to my nose and inhale the
sharp sweet odor then push it into my mouth, tasting the hint of raunch. My
left hand continues to stroke my cock as my back arches up and I moan in
desire.

I need to piss badly and I want to feel the piss in my briefs. I fantasize
about just letting the piss come as I lay there, streaming into my briefs.
But some corner of my rational mind prevents me, dreading the cleanup. I
climb out of my bed and head for the bathroom with its mirrors and tiled
floor where I have spent so many hours lost in the ecstasy of wet, raunchy
sex with myself. It is Saturday morning. I don't have to be anywhere. My
whole body has a sweet ache of anticipation.

On the way to the bathroom I stop at my dresser. Under a pile of my clean
briefs I find the pair of dirty jockeys I swiped from my little brother when
I went home for dinner two nights ago. They are already crusted with three
loads of my own cum.

I shot the first load in the parking lot of a playground near my folks house
on the way home from dinner. My brother had gotten so cute and he had been
almost flirty with me that night. I saw the briefs in a laundry pile in his
room. I saw his stains and didn't even think about it. I grabbed them and
stuffed them down my pants. I had never done anything like that before and
the intoxication of the act was a little frightening. Having his briefs
stuffed into my own already made something of a bulge, even though I was
wearing baggy khakis. And then just feeling them there gave me a total boner
which I tried to adjust in the bathroom before I left but if anyone looked
down there they could tell, I was sure.

I hurried out to the car; I am sure they must have wondered at how strangely
I was acting. I pulled out Robbie's briefs as I started driving down the
street and held them to my nose. I knew I couldn't make it home without
jacking off. I pulled into the far corner of the neighborhood playground,
ripped open my pants and stroked furiously as I breathed in my little
brother's raunch. It did not take long to climax. I just touched my tongue
to his stained crotch, tasting some musky combination of piss and boycum,
and exploded. I used the briefs to wipe up what I could see in the dark
light and when I got home and saw my cum still wet on his briefs, saw in
bright light the outlines of his yellow piss, the slightly hardened sheen of
his cum, and finally his surprisingly thick skid marks, my bone was raging
once again. I stripped down to my own briefs with the huge wet stain of
fresh cum spreading over the crotch and began rubbing Robbie's jockeys over
my face and chest, my whole body. I wanted his smell, his funk, his raunch
all over me. And inside me: I sucked greedily on the dirty crotch, savoring
the taste of my little brother's piss, imagining him standing in front of
the toilet in these briefs, with a morning hardon, pulling them down,
waiting for his bone to subside a little, for the strong yellow stream of
his morning piss. I saw him stuff his cock back in those briefs and saw the
yellow stain of the piss he had not squeezed out spreading in his crotch.

Licking the sharp, sweet crusts of his cum I imagined him turning from the
toilet to the mirror, admiring the beauty of his smooth, slim body, and
watching as his cock swelled full again in his briefs. I imagined him
pulling his briefs down below his balls, his eyes riveted on himself in the
mirror, one hand stroking his large, thick boycock, while the other probed
beneath his balls to his butthole. It was then that I pressed his ass stains
to my nose and breathed deep. The smell of Robbie's butt raunch sent a deep
quiver through my body. I moaned his name as I pushed the fabric inside my
mouth so I could taste my brother's shit stains. Realizing how much I wanted
him, how much I craved the taste of his raunch, I nearly screamed his name
in pure lust as I shot load after load of cum, wiping it quickly with his
briefs so I could suck it back out while the tremors of desire still pulsed
through me.

I was a bit shaken by what I had learned about what I wanted. It was
impossible. I had always loved my brother and he had always loved me but it
was the love of brothers. Though we had joked around about sex and though it
was sometimes like we were flirting with each other I had never faced up to
what that flirting had meant to me.

I began to write in my journal, to try and sort things out. I had to admit
to myself that tonight had not been the first time I had jacked off thinking
about Robbie. He had grown up in the last year. He was not longer a scrawny
little kid. He was a beautiful teenaged boy. He had a sexiness I hadn't
noticed before. He smelled differently.

As I wrote I remembered that last summer at the beach I had stared at him,
tanned, smooth, lanky, long sun bleached hair, and--as he lay on his back
after a swim--I saw where his suit clung to the bulge of his cock and balls.
I was surprised at how big they were and had to turn onto my stomach so he
wouldn't see my boner. As he drifted off to sleep I had gone into a toilet
stall off the changing rooms to jack off thinking about him.

Why had I forgotten that?

And it wasn't the only time. How many times had I started jacking looking at
studs in boy magazines but ended thinking about Robbie? I had started going
home more often. My parents were pleased but I realized that it was not to
see them but to see Robbie.

And now I had made it real. I could no longer pretend that it wasn't
happening. His dirty briefs, wet now with two loads of my cum, were material
proof of how much I craved my brother. I hesitated, then wrote the word
"incest." But in place of the terror or sadness I thought such an admission
would evoke, I felt only another swelling in my crotch. I brought his briefs
again to my face. I ached to masturbate one more time that night. And this
time, mixed with the moaning hunger to smell and suck on my brother's raunch
stains were such  feeling of tenderness.

"I love you Robbie," I moaned as I rubbed his briefs over my face and body,
kissing them deeply as if I could feel him underneath them." God I love you
so much!"

I stripped out of my own briefs and put his on: to have my cock where
Robbie's had been, to push the fabric of his briefs into my own ass crack,
to mix my shit stains with his... I pushed my body up against the full-length
mirror, making out with my own image, pushing my crotch up against the
glass, thinking of Robbie, his body, his briefs, our cocks as one. Over and
over again I moaned "I love you little brother!" as I shot my spunk load in
Robbie's briefs for the third time that evening.

I have not cum since that night, still somewhat shaken by the power of my
desires. But holding Robbie's briefs again all doubts disappear. My aching
morning boner throbs with lust. I push Robbie's briefs into my face. I want
to taste and feel his raunch as much as I want my own.

From my underwear drawer I pull out my dildo (made from one of those kits
where you make a mold of your own cock), my tube of lube, and bottle of
poppers. I am almost trembling with desire as I make my way into the
bathroom. I lay the briefs, dildo, lube, and poppers on the counter and
stand in front of the mirror and stare at my body. I am in love with myself
in a way that occasionally scares me. It's not like I am overly vain. I
mean, I don't spend a lot of time primping before I go out or anything. I
mean, I care what other people think I look like. But not that much, really.

Objectively I am good looking but not like a Greek god or anything. My nose
is a bit sharp and doesn't totally fit with my lips which are thick and
soft. My hair is neither blonde nor richly brunette but more what people
call dishwater and it is always kind of out of control. My eyes are so blue
that people talk about them a lot but they are also maybe just a bit too
big. My teeth are real white but not entirely straight. My body, while not
at all scrawny is hardly the gym-buffed ideal. I am in good shape but
"slim," maybe to some eyes even a bit skinny. I do have a great cock,
though, thick and long like Robbie's. Anyway, I think I am completely
beautiful and I get into this thing that maybe is crazy or perverted but
which I love which is making out with myself in the mirror.

First I look at myself. usually I start with a big boner in briefs and I
love the way that looks. Then I move closer the mirror, my hands running
over my body, maybe kissing my hands, licking under my arms, saying out loud
things like "I love you Mark, like I am someone else who wants to make love
to me.

I am sure it doesn't sound too erotic to kiss cold glass but I get past that
really quickly and just think about kissing myself. I realize this morning,
as I begin to make out with my image, how much my attraction to Robbie has
to do with his resemblance to me. I also realize that I love that he is just
a boy and that he is my brother. These are taboos that make my desire for
him even stronger.

The bathroom holds so many erotic memories for me. It is where I have let
myself go, exploring the outer limits of my cravings for raunch. I want to
go there this morning.

I cannot hold my piss any longer. As I kiss my image in the mirror and
alternately moan my and Robbie's name I think about, ache for the feeling of
morning piss to flow from my cock into my briefs onto the floor. I stand
back from the mirror and gaze on my body, breathing deep to relax my cock so
the piss can flow. It does not take much since I am so full. I see and feel
the dark yellow stain starting at my cockhead, spreading rapidly as the
pulse of my morning piss fills my already raunchy briefs.

The crotch of my briefs get drenched and I feel the warm morning stream flow
down my legs onto the floor. I don't want to waste any so I grab the glass
by the sink , pull my briefs down and aim my swollen cockhead so that the
piss stream fills it. I push my cock deep  into the glass so I can feel the
heat of the liquid surrounding my shaft as the glass fills. I pull my cock
out before I overflow the glass and stop the stream for a moment. I am still
full of piss and don't want to waste it.

I grab Robbie's briefs and find the raunchiest crotch stains, yellow with
his piss, and stuff them in my mouth. I lay back on the cold tiles of the
bathroom floor, as I have done so many times before. I sit up and grab the
lube, the dildo, and the poppers, knowing things could get crazy now. I want
my piss. In my face. My mouth. My hair, On the floor around me. I want to
see my hot piss streaming out f my cock. I want to drench Robbie's briefs
with my piss.

I scootch up against the mirror so that with my legs up against the glass I
can see the spread and raunch of my asshole at the same time that my dick is
aimed straight for my mouth. The cold tile is hard against my spine but I
love seeing my cock aimed directly at my face. I want to feel my hot piss.
As I suck on the piss stains in Robbie's briefs, I feel the wave of my own
piss, aching to stream out. More than anything I want to see, feel, taste
piss stream out of my cockhead.

When it comes the stream is hot and ripe. I cannot distinguish between the
desire for my own piss and the desire for the piss of my little brother. All
I know is that I cannot stop wanting to swallow it, feel it. I am in love
with my piss.

But there is more that I want, I crave. I grab the poppers and take a deep
hit. The effect is liberating. As I lay in the puddle of my piss, sucking
hungrily on Robbie's briefs I knew--with the poppers--what I wanted more than
anything was my and Robbie's butt raunch. Breathing in the poppers made me
focus on sucking the ass stains in my little brothers briefs. And I looked
at myself in the mirror, legs up against the glass, I knew I could watch
myself shit, watch myself rub that shit over my cock, balls, briefs, and
body, tasting my shit, wanting it to be Robbie's.

I look at my asshole in the mirror. It is dirty. Three days of not wiping
well. I love you Robbie, I moan as I feel the shit escape my hole. Into my
hands where I use it as lube, where I push it in my mouth. Where I moan for
Robbie, wanting him more than all the raunch I have craved. Ever.