Reunion with my Brother
By: Morris Henderson
(Copyright 2007 by the author)
 

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

The flight from Chicago was, like most flights, a pain in the ass. The connection in LAX for San Diego was worse. But I comforted myself with the anticipation of seeing my little brother, Chuck, graduate from San Diego State. I spent the better part of the time en route recalling the good times Chuck and I had as kids.

We had been very close growing up even though Chuck was four years younger than I was. Some of my friends had little brothers who were a pain in the ass but I enjoyed the company of my little brother. Even my friends accepted him into activities because he was intellectually and emotionally mature for his age.

Until he was about 13 years old, I thought of him as a little kid but enjoyed his sense of humor and his adventurous nature. We would often rough-house and wrestle with each other but it was never more than playful fun.

When he went through puberty, however, I stopped thinking of him as a little boy. That was a tough time for me. I had just gotten over the guilt feelings of being attracted to men more than women. I wasn't ready to come out (for one thing, it would have devastated my parents) but I had accepted the fact that I was gay. Sharing a bedroom and a bathroom with Chuck as he matured into a well-endowed teenager brought on feelings that could only be described as lust.

The first time I felt that way was when we were at the gym. After a few laps on the indoor track, we were both sweating so when he playfully started wrestling with me, I responded by pinning him down. I was straddling his body and holding his shoulders to the mat. He looked up at me with a smirk and said, "OK, you got me. What are you going to do now."

It was an innocent comment, I'm sure, but my first thought was that I wanted more than anything to hold his sweaty body against mine and simply enjoy the aroma and the close physical contact. That thought unnerved me. After all, this was my little brother. I loved him but the thought of "loving" him--in the sense of enjoying his body--was jarring. Still, it was tempting. So I laid down on top of him with our chests, stomachs, and legs pressed against each other. Just as I started to enjoy the warm contact, however, he bolted free and said, "Race to the shower?"

There followed a number of times when I no longer thought of him as a kid brother but as a boy becoming a man.

I had watched with amazement how his chest, arms, and legs filled out, gradually changing a lanky child-body into a vision of youthful manhood. Wispy fuzz appeared on his chest and surrounded his firm nipples. It cascaded down his abdomen to become a profuse patch of black hair around his cock--a cock that seemed never to stop getting longer and fuller.

Sharing a bedroom and bathroom, and never having been shy around each other, I had plenty of opportunities to observe his development. His progress through puberty was unlike mine. He seemed to develop more and faster than I had. Although we had always talked with each other openly, he rarely asked me any questions about his transition from boy to young man. I suppose, having watched me go through the same physical changes, he knew exactly what to expect. I wondered back then, as my hair grew and penis enlarged, if he had been watching me as carefully but as covertly as I now watched him develop. I'm sure, however, that his thoughts about me, as I went through puberty, were nothing like my thoughts about him now. I'm sure he never felt the lust that was beginning to consume me when I saw his body--a lust that was always tinged with guilt because he was, after all, my little brother.

If he noticed my secretive, admiring glances, he never let on. Nor did he ever say it was odd that I engineered opportunities to see him shirtless or in briefs or even naked. In fact, it seems to me now, he enjoyed creating the opportunities to show off his emerging manhood. I think was justly proud of his development and made a conscious effort to show off his body to me as if to say, 'I'm just as big now as you are.' I remember, for example, when he would came out of the shower into our bedroom and stood there naked trying, for too long a time, to find a pair of socks or simply drying his hair. And there were those times when he sat on the edge of my bed in his tight briefs, cross-legged to display his package, while asking me for advice on one thing or another.

We always shared our thoughts with each other but I don't remember talking to him about sex. And, of course, I didn't dare tell him the effect he was now having on me. But I found myself fantasizing about sharing a bed with him... then immediately reminding myself that he was my brother and wondering if the definition of incest included brother with brother intimacy.

While in college, I dated several girls but, of course, it was a sham to conceal my real interests. I liked to date the religious types because that would eliminate or at least minimize the pressure to have sex, which I knew I would not enjoy. The hypocrisy of my dual life deflected all suspicion that I was gay but my desire to become intimate with another guy only grew and my frustration steadily increased. Between study and sports, Chuck dated very little in high school but, judging from his comments about various dates, he was showing the typical interests in girls. That, of course, further discouraged any hope I may have had either to reveal to him my interest or slake my lust for him. His comments about girls were just the kind that I made but in my case, I was concealing my interest in boys while his comments seemed to be more genuine.

I graduated from college and took a job with a local IT firm. At the same time, Chuck graduated from High School cum laude, was offered a scholarship to several universities, and decided to attend San Diego State. That was sufficient cause for celebration but, for me, a sense of loss. Because we had always been so close, I dreaded the end of summer. He would be a thousand miles away in college and I would stay in town. When I thought about not seeing his hot body on a daily basis, I was saddened because it was such a delight to admire. But I was also relieved to know that I would not fight with my conscience about desiring to feel, to caress, even to engage in more active sexual pleasures with him.

Between high school and college, Chuck took a summer job with a landscaping company. We were still close and spent a lot of time together in the evenings and on weekends. Weekends that summer, as the summers before, were often spent at the lakeshore boating, fishing, and swimming where we both got a good tan. The swimming was fun but, admiring my brother's body, was tinged with frustrated desire.

Chuck surprised me when he brought home a pair of Speedos to swim in and surprised me more when he presented me with a pair. "Let's try them on," he said, so we went upstairs to our bedroom. My cock twitched as he took off his clothes and took a little bit too long doing so. (Was he performing a strip tease? Or was it my wishful thinking?) He pulled up the Speedos and conspicuously arranged his ample meat into them. "Come on," he said, "Let's see how yours fit."

I was almost afraid to finish taking off my clothes because I could feel my cock starting to swell. I consciously diverted my mind and finally got the Speedos on without sprouting a woodie. "Nice look," he said, "but we're going to have to get some sun to get rid of our boxer tan lines."

That night, as I lay in bed, I began to wonder if Chuck was, indeed, toying with my mind. Had he noticed my furtive glances? Was he teasing me with his displays? If so, was he just trying to test my reaction? Or was he sending a too-subtle signal? The evidence was equivocal. I would just have to continue playing it as straight as I could and continue making efforts to conceal my feelings about him. But I could still fantasize, couldn't I? And I did, which often gave me a roaring hard-on.

Chuck was snoring in the other bed so I felt safe in jerking off. Slowly. Quietly. As I had done a hundred times before. But this time I guess I was so wrapped up in what I was doing that I didn't notice Chuck's snoring had stopped. Nor did I hear him get out of bed and cross the room. Reality struck when I felt him sit on the edge of my bed and heard him say, "What's up?" Then, with a chuckle, "But I guess that's obvious, isn't it?"

Embarrassed? No. Humiliated is more like it. I knew there was nothing I could say to explain away what I was doing. My mind raced for words but none came. Chuck broke the painful silence. "Not to worry, Bro, every guy does it. Every guy's got to get some relief once in a while." How like him not to tease and add to my humiliation but, in an admittedly trite way, try to make me feel less like a fool.

"I thought you were asleep," I said lamely.

"Yeah, I was. But I had this dream and woke up with a real boner." I could see the massive bulge in the dim light. "Look," he said as he stood, pulled down his briefs and showed me his cock standing at attention.

The last time I had seen him with a hard-on he was seven; I was 12. He had gone to bed long before I had and was sleeping soundly. Uncharacteristically, he was naked. In the heat of August, he had kicked the sheet off so I saw everything--including his little boy pecker standing stiff and pointing to the ceiling. I didn't attach any significance to the fact that I felt a tingle in my crotch and was soon as hard as my little brother. I crawled into bed and was soon as asleep as he was.

Since Chuck grew up, however, I had never seen his cock hard. I had imagined what it might look like but there it was in front of me. And it was huge! "My God!" I blurted out and immediately regretted my reaction.

Chuck tactfully ignored my reaction. "I was about to do something about this," he said with a wry grin as he gently rubbed his cock. "But then I heard you. It looks like you got a head start. Mind if I join your party?" With that, he grabbed his cock and started stroking it more deliberately. I caught myself staring at his enormous tool. He surely noticed because he moved a little closer so that his cock was not a foot away from my face.

"Come on," he said, "I feel silly doing this if you don't join in." With that, he pulled the blanket off and left me totally exposed. "Oh, look," he said, "Your boner's almost gone. You'll have to work hard to catch up with me." He was right; my rock hard cock was half way to flaccid, thanks to the interruption and my embarrassment.

Chuck stopped stroking his cock for a moment and said, "I've often thought it would be more fun to jerk off with somebody. Now we can find out. How about it, bro?" Without waiting for an answer, he crawled onto my bed. He kneeled down straddling my legs so that his thighs were tight against mine and his massive cock just inches away from mine. "Get yourself hard again, bro. I'll wait until you're ready."

I guess I didn't react because he said, "Come on. We can't jerk off together if you don't take matters into your own hands." He gave a small chuckle at his bad joke but it was enough to return my attention to my aching cock. I started fondling it while staring at Chuck's still rock hard member. Soon I was hard again and stroking more quickly. Chuck, seeing my arousal, joined me by beating his meat with a vengeance. It wasn't long before I came, squirting hot jizz as high as my chin and all down my chest and stomach. Chuck came soon thereafter, leaning back and aiming his load straight up into the air. I watched with awe as two huge loads shot up nearly two feet before splattering down on his cock and mine.

"Fukin awsome," he said, "better than I had imagined it. What'd you think?" A broad smile and a nod was my agreement. "Let me get a towel," he said, "and clean us up."

Did he say what I thought he said, that he would clean US up? I soon found out. He returned from the bathroom with a towel and began wiping up the cum from my chin, then working down my chest and stomach. As his gentle touch got closer to my groin, I felt my cock begin to swell again. When he got to my pubes and began wiping up my cum and his, my cock started to stand tall. "My," he said, "this little baby needs some more attention." It did. And he gave it, erotically wiping up the cum (even though none was left) in my pubes, on my balls, and finally up and down my still sensitive cock. I found myself quietly moaning, oblivious to the fact that this was my little brother doing this to me. But when I opened my eyes and saw him, I thought that this was all a dream--that masturbating with my brother, that his careful (and erotic) fondling of my cock could not be true. But there he was, paying attention to my now hard again cock. The towel, and any pretense of cleaning up the cum, was gone. It was his hands that now fondled my cock and balls. I glanced down and saw that he was still hard. Was he as turned on as I was? I decided not to say anything but just lay back and enjoyed.

Before long, I got that unmistakable feeling that consumes first your crotch and then your body. The feeling that ejaculation is near. The compulsive feeling that you have to cum, that nothing is important except relief. Could it be? I had just shot a load. And it felt wonderful. Could I do it again so soon? The growing tenseness in my body said, "Yes!"

Instinctively, I started to thrust my hips up in time with the movement of Chuck's hand on my cock. He obviously knew what that meant because he grasped my cock hard and started pumping it vigorously, which sent me over the edge. My balls tightened, my cock was aflame, my mind next to delirium. Then the explosion. It was as though time slowed down. I could feel the hot cum travel from my balls, up the length of my cock, and, after a pause, splatter on my stomach. The load, Chuck told me later, was minimal but the sensations that engulfed me were even more intense that the first one, which, no doubt, was due to being jacked off by someone else.

I laid there paralyzed with ecstasy, oblivious to anything but the tingling that radiated from my crotch outward.

When I finally regained my senses, I realized that Chuck was wordlessly wiping up the latest small load of cum from my stomach. I looked at him and smiled. "Thanks," I said.

"Hey, bro," he said, "Glad you enjoyed it. But I gotta tell you, I didn't know anybody could come again that quick."

"Couldn't have done it without you," I grinned.

"Till next time," he said as he walked back to his bed.

The "next time" was an almost nightly ritual for the next couple of weeks. I lost all my inhibitions and would go to his bed asking if he was horny. "Not yet," was his usual reply. "Can you do something about it?" Which, of course, I was happy to do. Running my hands down his hairy chest and into his bushy pubes was enough to get me hard as steel. Seeing that massive cock swell to gigantic length made my cock almost burst. When finally we started to jerk off, I was almost always the first to come. But he soon followed with a load of hot creamy juice so plentiful that I thought only three or four of his loads would fill a shot glass.

I knew I was gay but I still wasn't sure about Chuck. After all, he still talked about all the hot chicks he knew and he dated some very good looking ones. But he never said anything about laying one. I asked him once and he said "No, that bitch was all show and no go." Another time, after he'd had a date with a former cheerleader, I asked if he got any. "Naw," he shrugged, "Why would I get involved with some chick when I'm leaving town in a few months?" I didn't ask him again on the off chance either that it would squelch our fun together or force him to come out to me. Looking back, I'm convinced that we both knew the other's orientation but, for our own reasons, avoided talking about it.

In late July, as one of our almost-nightly sessions was about to begin, Chuck asked, "You ever had a blow job?"

"No," I admitted, "although I've fantasized about it often enough.
Have you?"

"Yeah," he said matter-of-factly.

"So tell me about it," I urged and listened to him tell this story.

"I went with a school buddy to a party in Chicago. The cousin of the party's host, from Oregon, was there and got drunk fast. One of the guys, almost as drunk, called him a loudmouth and asked if he could use his mouth for anything but chomping food, swilling beer, and spouting bull shit. He got very defensive, which only pissed off the other drunks. One of them teased, 'Your mouth would feel good around my dick. At least we wouldn't have to listen to your stupid ideas.'

"Then it really got weird," Chuck continued. "The out-of-town cousin boasted that no man he had seen had a dick too big for him to handle easily. My buddy, who had seen me in the shower after gym class, ... well, I guess he wanted to needle the boasting asshole ... 'I'll bet you twenty bucks you can't handle Chuck's dick!' I felt the eyes of half the room on me. So then the pressure was on me to call the loudmouth's bluff. I resisted but two football players grabbed me, threw me onto the sofa and pulled down my pants and briefs. I heard one of the footballers say, 'Try to handle that, you pompous ass,' Two other guys pulled him down on the floor next to me. All the others joined in, egging him on while I laid there, held down by two guys."

As I listened to the story unfold, Chuck seemed to enjoy the telling of it as much as I enjoyed hearing it. He was grinning as he continued.

"Well, like I said, he was drunk. He took the dare. He got all of my soft cock into his mouth and I guess he thought it was over. 'See,' he says, 'I did it.'

"Then I heard a voice yell out, 'But his cock wasn't hard, dummy. You can't take it all in when it's hard.'

I had to interrupt the story. "What did it feel like? Were you enjoying it or hating it?"

"At first, it was embarrassing. I mean, getting a blow job in front of a lot of guys. I was wishing the whole thing would stop. But when my cock was in his mouth ... Well, it started to turn me on. When I felt his mouth on my cock again, I also felt it swelling.

"As you've seen, my cock gets pretty big when it's hard and the guy can't get it all in his mouth. So everybody is teasing him, saying he lost the dare. The drunk, wanting some kind of victory, says he can make me cum. I swear, everybody cheered at that and gathered around for a better view. I tried to hold back and I guess I did for quite a while. By that time, I guess I was into the whole scene. I wanted to make the guy work all the harder on my cock. And, to tell the truth, I was really enjoying it. Finally, I couldn't hold it anymore and shot a load straight into the back of his throat. He gagged on it and spit most of it out on my cock. All the guys cheered and wanted to be next in line. But the guy who sucked me off went to the John, vomited, and passed out."

Chuck paused. The story was over. "God," I said, "I wish I'd have been there. In fact, I'd like to have taken your place. I can only imagine what it felt like."

"Tell you what," Chuck said. "Only because you're my brother, I'll give you a chance to find out what it feels like."

The offer was too good to be true. But did he really mean what I thought? I had to check it out. "What do you mean?"

"Strip down and lay back. Let me show you what a blow job is like."

I was stunned. After all that time wishing, my wishes were about to come true. With only a moment's hesitation, I pulled off my briefs and laid down on his bed.

He started by massaging my nipples. He ran his fingers gently down my chest toward my groin. He spread my legs and worked his hands up from my knees to where my cock, now almost erect, ached to be taken into his mouth.

When my cock was swollen almost to bursting, I finally felt his tongue circling the head of my cock. Then his moist lips surrounded just the head of my cock but worked slowly down to the base of the shaft. When he took my cock fully into his mouth, I felt the warmth of his moist mouth. When he moved back up the shaft, I felt my cock cool ever so slightly so that the warmth was even more stimulating when he swallowed the shaft again. Up and down. Warm and cool. It was ecstasy.

I was moaning softly and wanted the feeling to last forever but I sensed that I was on the brink of ejaculating. "Chuck," I said, "I can't hold back. I'm going to cum." To my surprise, he didn't stop. "Let go," I pleaded, "I've got to cum. NOW!" Chuck only tightened his lips around my throbbing cock.

A load of cum shot into his mouth. And then a second burst. Chuck never let my cock out of his mouth and must have swallowed my juice.

"Sorry, man," I said, "but I told you I had to cum."

"That's OK, bro, I was just curious to see if your cum tasted as good as mine."

"You mean you eat your own cum?" I asked with a tone of disbelief.

"Of course," he said as though commenting on the weather. "Not all the time, of course, but often enough. Don't tell me you've never tasted your own cum!"

"Well," I replied sheepishly, "No. I guess it just never occurred to me."

"Geez, man," he said, "you're missing part of the fun of it. Besides, you don't have a mess to clean up. Next time you jerk off, you have to promise me that you'll try it. But it's an acquired taste so you don't have to do it again if you don't want to."

I promised that I would but then realized Chuck had not come. He was busy taking care of my cock. "Maybe I should taste yours first," I offered, implying that I would give him a blowjob in return. But he declined, explaining that he had jerked off while he was blowing me and had cum in his sweat sock. "Too bad," I allowed, "maybe tomorrow."

"Tomorrow it is," he said enthusiastically.

The next day at work I could hardly concentrate for thinking about the blowjob Chuck had given me and, mostly, anticipating getting his manly member into my mouth later. I drove home planning what I could do with Chuck ... or, more precisely, with his cock ... that night. But wouldn't you know it, he had to work overtime and left a message that he would be having a beer with the crew after work. It was almost 10 o'clock when he came in. When he said he was going to shower and hit the sack, I was very disappointed. The whole day's anticipation would result only in frustration. But he lifted my spirits when he asked, with a sly smile, "See ya later?"

He came out of the shower into the bedroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. I was already in bed, naked, still soft but ready to go if Chuck gave the slightest encouragement. He didn't disappoint me. Dropping his towel on the floor and exposing his long cock and low-hanging balls, he said, "Your place or mine?"

"Come on over," I replied, "You're always welcome. And stay as long as you like."

"Well, let's sample your hospitality, then," he said as he pulled back the sheet that covered me and laid down tight against my body. Still warm from his shower, the heat of his body against mine was both comforting and exciting.

The next 20 or 30 minutes passed wordlessly but not without activity. I began by rolling half way over, putting a leg partly on top of his, and starting to play with his chest hair and nipples. He just laid there, enjoying the attention. Running my fingers gently across his chest and stomach, I worked my way down to his thicket of pubic hair, stopping to play with it for a while. Then moving down, I was surprised to find his cock completely soft. Had I not aroused him? Was there a problem? I started fondling his cock and balls and immediately felt his cock begin to harden. I continued until his cock was quite hard but not yet erect. Then I shifted position, sliding down to a point where I could get his delicious meat into my mouth. I repeated the movements he had used the night before, using tongue and lips to tantalize his swelling cock before starting to jerk him off with my mouth. He must have enjoyed it, from the soft murmurs and moans I heard. For my part, it was definitely enjoyable. None of the derisive connotations of "cocksucker" entered my thoughts--only the intense satisfaction of having my brother's cock--long and full and planted in a nest of ebony black hair--in my mouth. Having only recently experienced a blowjob, I knew the sensations he was having, the satisfaction he was getting and would be getting. I would have been content with only knowing I was making him feel good. But I enjoyed it as well.

I had deliberately drooled on his ball sack. I moistened a finger in the drool and started fingering his ass hole. The surprised moan told me he liked it. So I continued working both ends, sucking his cock (at lest the part I could get in my mouth) and working his ass until my finger was deep enough to feel what I was sure was his prostate. Massaging his prostate and mouthing his cock sent him over the edge. I felt a burst of hot cum hit the roof of my mouth as he started to quiver. A second burst came when I was not ready for it and a lot of the hot jiz rolled down the shaft off his cock onto his ball sack. Only when he gently pushed my head away did I release his throbbing cock from my mouth.

I let him lay there for a few moments to recover. Then I lapped up the spilled cum off his balls. We laid there for several minutes. He was probably coming down from his orgasm and I was watching his cock soften and droop.

After several minutes, he asked, "Did you cum? Did you jerk?"

"No," I said, I was too busy enjoying you."

"Pity," he said. "Bet you're balls are aching." They were, but I was not going to say so. "Tell you what," he blurted out, "Put you pecker where your finger was. That'll make us both feel good."

Once again, my little brother (who was no longer so little) was the instigator. He had initiated our first mutual jerk off. He had offered me my first blow job. He introduced me to the exotic taste of hot cum. Now he was offering me his ass hole to fuck. It was an offer I couldn't refuse. I was on him and in him without any coaxing. His ass was tighter than I expected but that only added to my pleasure. I shot a load into his ass and fell on top of him, withdrawing my cock only when it became soft.

We laid in bed, our bodies tight against each other, for a while. My curiosity about my bother's orientation had been increasing and, since we were so open with each other about other things, I ventured a question. "You told me about your first blow job; had any others?"

"Just from you," he confessed.

"So what gave you the idea. Giving me a blow job, I mean."

"Well," he began hesitatingly, "I found this porno site on the internet. It had pictures, stories, even a few movie clips. There was a section called Boys-to-Men so I clicked around to see what was there." He glanced at me to see how I was reacting but if he saw anything in my expression, it was only interest. "I kinda expected what I'd find," he went on, "but learned some things, too. I mean what guys do together. So, I said to myself, that might be worth a try."

"So did you?" I asked.

"Oh a few new ways to jerk off, maybe, but nothing with another guy. That is," he added, "until I found an opportunity to try some things out with you. Remember our first jerk off together?"

"Boy, do I," I admitted.

"Well, I thought it was safe with you because we're brothers, right? And I was relieved when you went along with it. I was afraid you'd resent it or even hate me."

"Not a chance," I assured him. "I'm glad you started it. As you know, I'm a willing partner." After a pause, I asked, "So you've never been fucked or fucked somebody other than me?"

"That's right."

Well, I thought to myself, my little brother may or may not be gay. His only gay behavior is with me. And, I guessed, that doesn't mean he's gay. But then again, he might be. He might be like me. I accept my orientation but I'm not ready to come out. Maybe Chuck was like me. Or maybe not. I was certainly not going to ask him and force him to come out to me before he was ready.

There were a lot more experiments we tried that summer--four years ago--but I didn't have a chance to mentally relive them because the pilot announced our approach into the San Diego airport.

In the baggage claim, Chuck saw me first. "Hey, bro, good to see ya. It's been a long four years but you're still the same."

"You're not," I ventured, "You've bulked up even more and have one helluva tan."

"That's California for you," he replied, "Plenty of sports and sun to keep a guy in shape."

Looking at this man, my brother, I could hardly picture him as the lanky kid that grew up with me. Nor even the High School graduate that was already one hot hunk. No, Chuck had become a man, a man with a hot body and infectious smile that would turn the head of any woman (or gay man like me).

We talked incessantly, catching him up on things in Chicago and me on what it's like to live in southern California. As he pulled out of the parking garage in his old Honda Civic, he suddenly turned serious. "Listen," he began, "You'll be here for a few days, staying in my apartment, right?" Without waiting for a reply, he continued. "There's something you need to know. Now. So it would be a surprise later. I have a room mate."

"I know that," I interrupted.

"Shut up and listen," he commanded in a friendly but firm way. "This is not easy for me to say. It'll be easier if you just listen. He's more than a room mate. He's what the politically correct media call a domestic partner. Which means that he's gay. I mean we're gay. And nobody outside of a small circle of friends here at school know that. It's a semi-secret, so to speak. And now you know. You're in on the secret. But, until I'm ready--until John and I are ready--it's still confidential. But, hey, you're my brother. And you'll find out soon enough. So I thought you ought to hear it from me."

He paused before saying, "No reaction, bro?"

"You told me not to interrupt," I joked.

"Now you can interrupt. Give me a morality talk, sympathy, anything you want to say."

"It's no surprise, Chuck," I reassured him. "I think I knew back when you were in High School. And those summer nights we shared before you came out here only confirmed it."

Chuck gave me a big smile of relief but I sensed that he knew that I knew. Not to make him feel better but more to resolve my own inner conflicts, I said, "And I think you know--or at least suspected--that I'm gay also. Now that's a real secret-a secret that only two people know: you and me."

As I looked for a reaction, I only saw a smile before he said, "Yeah, I thought that might be the case. But I wasn't sure."

"I'm glad you have John. What's he like? I hope he's everything you wanted."

"I think you'll like him. I sure do. But I'll let you form your own opinion when we get home. He's waiting for us."

He turned off the freeway and headed in the direction of campus. Soon, he said, "We're almost there. John's waiting for us. I think he'll have some snacks and cold beer ready."

"I'm sure I will," I replied sincerely.

As we pulled into the parking lot of an apartment complex, Chuck said, "Here we are." I grabbed my suitcase and followed my brother up the outside stairway to the second floor. Upon entering the apartment, Chuck hugged John and give him a short kiss.

John was not what I expected. Not over 5'6" I guessed, not more than 150 pounds, blond hair cut short, and what could be diplomatically described as an academic build. He wore a tee shirt and shorts that were both at least two sizes too big for his frame. He seemed to be a grown man in an undeveloped teenage body. But my first impression on seeing him was soon to be turned inside out.

Within minutes of meeting him, he displayed an energy, wit, insight, and charm that was totally disarming. I soon found out why Chuck was so fond of him. John and Chuck were very comfortable with each other. Both relied on the other but each was independent and at ease with who they were and what they shared. I envied them.

As night fell, Chuck, John, and I were swapping stories when Chuck got that serious look again. I knew something was coming. "Hey bro," he began, I've waited until now to say this. John and I have already talked it over. Now I want you to hear it with John here. We had planned to give you the sofa to sleep on. John and I would be in the bedroom. But you confirmed my suspicions on the way home from the airport so we have an alternative plan. We can go with the original plan if that's what you'd like but here's another option for you. We have a king-size bed. Big enough for three. Maybe a little cozy but that's the whole point. If you like--and only if you want to--you can sleep with us. Before you decide, you should know that John and I sleep naked and there's often some cuddling or something more active that happens. We'd like you to join us in bed ... and in whatever else might go on in bed ... if you would like."

The thought was exciting. I hadn't been with a guy since Chuck left for school. I often got horny as hell but didn't have the courage to go looking for a partner so I'd become an expert in masturbation techniques. As enticing as the offer was, I felt compelled to say, "That's very generous and considerate of you. But you two are partners. I couldn't intrude on your private time. I couldn't bear the risk of causing any problem between you two."

It was John who then spoke. "Yes, we're partners. We love each other. We plan to stay together. But sharing the bed occasionally is not going to jeopardize any of that. Wait. Let me clarify. When we both agree--in advance--it's OK. It wouldn't be OK to go off and bed down with another guy. But this is a different situation. We don't cheat on each other. But we sometimes share our bed with special people--may four or five times in the three years we've been together. It's not much different than inviting somebody to dinner. Only it's dinner and some recreation. As long as we agree in advance," John looked at Chuck, lovingly, and held his hand before continuing. "It's just recreation--sexual fun--and has no effect on what we share or how we feel about each other."

Chuck jumped in with more encouragement. "We had some great times that summer before I came out here. I think we both enjoyed it.
And were sorry it had to end. So join us in bed. For old times sake. Both John and I will enjoy it. I think you will too."

"You're both very persuasive," I admitted. "And I admire your openness. With each other and with me. In fact, I envy you. You see, I haven't been with a guy since you left, Chuck, and the invitation is very much appreciated. But..."

"You mean," Chuck interrupted in surprise, "that except for our time together, you're a virgin?"

"'Fraid so," I admitted.

"Well, that's all the more reason to get together, isn't it," John said animatedly. "Let's hit the sack now. It might be a while before we can go to sleep."

With that, John and Chuck got up and led me to the bedroom. They'd given me no chance to decline again. And, frankly, I was glad for that although I was very nervous because I didn't know what to expect. I had fantasized all sorts of situations with another man but never really experienced any of my fantasies so I didn't know what was going to happen.

The bedroom was not large and the king-sized bed took up most of the floor space. Full length mirrored doors on the closet seemed to visually expand the room and, of course, would allow anyone on the bed to see a reflection of himself and his partner.

Chuck sensed my nervousness and said, "It's okay, bro. John and I just want to show you a good time. Relax and enjoy it."

"But," I stammered. "This is all so new to me and...well...I don't know what to do." I was embarrassed by my admission and I heard John muffle a chuckle. But Chuck sat me on the edge of the bed, put his arm around my shoulder, and assured me, "Let us take the lead. I'm sure it will come naturally to you. But if you're uncomfortable with anything, just say the word."

John, meanwhile, was slowly stripping off his clothes in a somewhat seductive way, which, of course, caught my attention. As he revealed more of his slender body, my cock began to swell. He turned away from me when he dropped his shorts to expose the small but the firm and perfectly rounded cheeks of his ass. He kicked the shorts off his ankles and turned to face me. By this time, my eyes were riveted to his crotch where I saw a long, thin, and pendulous uncut cock. I was not prepared for seeing that his pubes were shaved. He had barely noticeable fuzz on his legs but the smooth skin above and around his cock only seemed to accentuate the size of his cock and low-hanging balls. With his slender frame and hairless crotch, he looked like an overgrown little boy. Without thinking, I blurted out, "You're shaved!

He chuckled aloud and said, "Yeah, Chuck complained about the hair tickling his nose." That brought a laugh from all of us.

He stood there, letting me inspect him until Chuck said, "My turn now." He rose from beside me on the bed and shed his clothes more quickly than John had done. His cock was as I remembered it and he, too, had shaved but only the upper edges of his bush. Whatever would be covered by a speedo was full, thick, and black.

As Chuck stood there exposing his nakedness, John sat beside me, put his arm around my shoulder and said, "He's magnificent, isn't he?"

John was right. Chuck had bulked up since I last saw him. His golden tan contrasted with the pale skin that was an outline of a skimpy speedo.

"Your turn, bro," Chuck said. "Or do we have to take your clothes off for you?"

I stripped and Chuck gently laid me on the bed. He and John then went to work on me. Chuck was licking and kissing my neck, nipples, and working downward while John sucked my toes and worked his mouth up my legs. They met at my crotch and were taking turns licking my balls and cock. In no time, before either of them had even touched my throbbing cock, I felt that I was on the brink of orgasm. When I felt a tongue on the head of my cock--I think it was Chuck's--I knew that I was about to unload. "Wait," I cried out. "I don't want to cum yet." They stopped while I gathered my senses.

"So soon?" John asked. "You've got a real hair trigger."

"Hey," Chuck said. "You would too if you hadn't been sucked for four years."

"You're right, of course," John replied a little meekly.

Then, directing his comment to me, Chuck said, "Would you like to help us catch up with you? Whose cock do you want to taste?"

"Both," I replied, perhaps sounding a little too eager. "But I'll start with yours." I quickly enveloped Chuck's rigid cock and, remembering what turned him on, brought him to the brink quickly. Sensing his impending orgasm, I quit.

"You haven't lost your magic touch, bro," he said between short gasps.

I then attacked John's long, slender cock. It took longer than with Chuck but he too reached the edge and pushed my head away.

"So who's going to finish off who?" Chuck asked.

"There's only one fair way," John grinned. At that, Chuck and John repositioned themselves so that our bodies formed a triangle. Chuck immediately began to lick my cock. John mouthed on Chuck's and presented his own long, thin cock to me. Without hesitating, I took his hard-on into my mouth again. I wanted it to last but Chuck's skill was more than I could resist. I exploded several spurts of cum into his mouth as I trembled and moaned.

Chuck was the next to cum, leaving me to resume my ministrations to John. Either he had remarkable staying power or I was not very effective because it was quite some time before he released his seed into my throat. As it filled my mouth, I had the strange thought that it had a much milder taste than Chuck's or my own.

In spite of the air conditioning, we were all quite sweaty so agreed that a quick shower and a swim in the apartment complex's pool would be welcomed. Chuck loaned me a speedo that made me look foolish because my minimal tan from waist up and mid-thigh down seemed to advertise that I was not native to southern California.

We returned to the apartment about 11 at night, shed our wet swim wear, and grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator. Chuck sat down at the kitchen table but John turned to him and said, "Let's finish our beer in the living room."

"Why not here?" Chuck asked.

John gave him a sly look, a wink and said, "Our guest would be more comfortable in the living room."

When we entered the living room, John guided Chuck to the sofa, suggested that I sit in the armchair facing them, and sat next to Chuck They looked at each other lovingly for a moment and held hands.

It then became clear why John wanted us in the living room. He spread his legs slightly to display his hairless crotch and dangling dick to me. When Chuck did not follow suit, John reached down and spread his legs. Chuck finally realized what the tactic was all about, laughed, and said, "Oh, I see."

"No," laughed John, "The whole point is for our guest to see."

We all then laughed and I said, "Careful, guys. If you tease me, I might attack and rape you both."

They laughed and John asked, "Would that be so bad?"

Chuck immediately shot me a stern look and said firmly, "Never happen, big brother!" His tone and facial expression disturbed me and I was about to apologize when he added, "Rape is forced sex with an unwilling person. Both of us are willing so you can't rape either one of us."

Two beers a piece and an hour later, we were in bed. Chuck told me to lay back, relax, and enjoy myself. Four hands and two mouths worked on every erotic spot of my body until I was in orbit. Eventually, John's long, thin cock was imbedded deeply into my ass while Chuck's talented mouth was repeatedly bringing me to the brink of orgasm only to pause before taking me to the edge again. I was delirious with pleasure. Only when I begged for relief, did Chuck finish me off.

My visit with my little brother was only three days. Some of that time was spent in his graduation and related activities but much of the time he and John entertained me in ways that I hadn't dared dream of. I had more orgasms in those three days than in three months back in Chicago and each one was superior to any I had had in four years.

As we left the apartment for the airport, I thanked them both for the spectacularly good time they had shown me. John graciously said, "You're welcome anytime." Chuck hugged and kissed his partner, most likely to show him how much he appreciated what he had done for me, and we left for the airport.

As Chuck dropped me off, he said, "Don't wait another four years to come see us."

Deflecting his comment, I said, "It's been awesome, Chuck. Thanks. You're a very lucky guy." In my heart, I knew that I couldn't impose on them again. They had given me the time of my life but they belonged to each other. I envied them and wouldn't--couldn't-risk jeopardizing their loving relationship.


 

Posted:07/13/07