Date: Tue, 24 Oct 2017 23:41:49 -0500
From: Rocky Hawkins <justwriting@soniq.org>
Subject: it started in the shower

Title: It Started in the Shower


Author's Note:

This story is told as a fantasy, and I won't tell you that there is any
truth to it. But, as narrator and protagonist, I am not really that
creative. So, you can decide if I made it up or not...

I love email and feedback, so let me know if you like this one!

DISCLAIMER:

The following content may contain detailed descriptions of sexual
interactions between a minor and adult. If the laws in your place of
residence or your religious beliefs make it illegal or wrong to read such,
do not continue. If this type of content offends you, do not continue.

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Donate. It's worth the spunk.

Contact me:
Feedback and such to justwriting@soniq.org.

========================================================

This year, I've learned two things: first, my closet was an awesome
place. Second, vaseline is amazing.

Let me explain.

My name is Dade Murphy. I'm currently 15 years old, and I live in the
Mainland Manor Mobile Complex. Sounds fancy, I suppose? Not so much. In
fact, it's pretty much a dump. My father lost his job about 4 years ago,
and we had to move here. About three months ago, he left for a job
interview, and never came back. That left my Mother, my two brothers, and
me stuck here. Mom says he'll be back - that he just has to `sort' things
out. Bryan, my brother, had another opinion.

"Don't be ridiculous, Dade. He's not coming back." He would always say.

I would shrug, and go back to my book. Yes, I was a reader. Even though we
looked almost identical, my brother and I were very different. He's 17 now,
and lives for basketball. He's out almost every night, after school and the
weekends, playing with his team mates. My oldest brother, Jason, is even
more into sports than Bryan, but he's never home anymore. He has a
girlfriend in the city, with her own apratment. Since he works full time,
we never see him. He announced last week that he was moving in with
her. Mom was furious, but Bryan and I felt differently.

To be honest, it's kind of a blessing. Our `house' is not very big, by
normal means, but it was a palace for 5 people. It has three bedrooms, and
a full sized bathroom. With Dad and Jason out of the house, that meant that
Bryan and I both get our own rooms (mom too.) It's the first time I'd had
my own space.

Over the weekend, we started to re-arrange the house. Bryan and I, closest
in age, shared the far room next to the bathroom; now, he had Jason's
room. I offered to help, but he was being macho.

"Listen, ya little homo, I can move my shit into my OWN room by myself," he
said. He was always calling me things like that. It wasn't until recently
that I even knew what `gay' meant. I mean, it was the 80's. Things like
that didn't really make front headline news. There was a show on TV, a
sitcom.. but I wasn't allowed to watch it.

Anyway, I was never sure why he called me that. I didn't `like' guys. I
didn't dress like a girl. In fact, outside of our age difference, we were
almost identical. We were both about 6 foot tall by this point; he was a
bit heavier than me at 180, to my 170, but also had some more muscle. He
was a sturdy guy, and it helped him in most of the sports he played, the
latest being basketball. We both had broad shoulders and a strong
jawline. Bryan and I started changing clothes in the bathroom a long time
ago, so I have no idea if we are similar in body types, but standing side
by side, I bet anyone would think we were twins. I guess I developed
faster?

"I'm not a homo, ya fagget," I replied. He just chuckled and grabbed
another stack of his clothes.

"Of course you are," he leaned back from the door. "I see how you look at
me."

I pretended to brush it off, going back to my book. I was sprawled out on
the bed, on my stomach, as he kept moving things. I scowled. How did I look
at him?

It wasn't until after dinner that he was finished moving. Suddenly, there
was SO much room. The beds were bunk-stacked, and that was gone, but his
dresser was also gone. We only had one TV in the house, but I had my own
stereo. I had saved up for months to get it from the pawn shop. Until
today, I had to cram it in the back of the closet; Bryan's trophies and
other guy stuff took up all the space on MY dresser.

I looked around. I finally had a room to myself. I plopped on the bed, and
reached under the mattress. My buddy Max and I had found a couple dirty
magazines in his Dad's garage workshop, and he had given me one. I fully
intended on using it tonight. I had learned about the fun my hand can give
me, but with a magazine full of naked people... I was getting hard just
thinking of it.

I hid the magazine under my pillow, and went to my closet. If I was gonna
do this, I was gonna do it right. I yanked at some cords, pulling one of
the speakers out from the corner of the closet. I found a nice spot on the
left part of my dresser, and repeated it for the other speaker. As I was
digging in to grab the receiver, now only covered by my own pile of hoodies
and hand-me-down clothes, I noticed some light, coming from the wall.

I leaned in, and heard the familiar sound of our shower. Bryan must be in
the bathroom taking a shower. I watched the light flicker. I leaned in a
bit closer. There was a gap in the paneling between my closet, and the
bathroom! The light flickered again. My eyes, now training on the light,
drew focus. I saw Bryan, now naked, walking back and forth between the sink
and the tub. The light flicker was him between the mirror and the crack.

I pulled back. My mind raced. I hadn't seen any adults naked in a long
time, not since I was a kid. Other than the magazine under my pillow. I had
to see what he looked like. I was dead curious.

My hands gently held the wall as i leaned in again. I could feel the panels
against my cheek as my eyes tried to regain focus. Bryan was there, facing
the toilet, his foot up on the basin of the tub. From here, I could see the
outline of his calf, strong and flexed, and I realized he was clipping his
toenails. Each time he would reach down, the arch of his back would make
his calf flex, and.. then I saw.. his ballsack, each time, lowering
itself. I felt my own body react, a small jolt run from my head to my own
hardness.

After what felt like a lifetime, he switched feet, and I finally saw
him. His own body, from head to toe, was similar to my own. We had the same
chest, the same abs... but not all the same. His cock, soft, was uncut. It
was something I had never seen before. I watched as he lazily scratched at
it, adjusting the water temperature. Our shower was open style, so when he
stepped in, the curtain turned him into a shadow; even so, I continued to
watch.

After watching him dry off, I realized that my own cock was painfully
reminding me of it's need. I scrambled to setup my radio, simply stacking
it on the dresser. I flicked off the lights, and in a flurry of jerks, my
own orgasm hit me. Wave after wave of feelings erupted as my sperm dribbled
onto my abs. I didnt' even look at the porno. The mix of emotions from
seeing my own brother naked and wet was enough. I fell asleep almost
immediately, my own cum drying to my stomach.

This continued for days. I found myself watching the clock, begging for the
minutes to go by until he got into the shower.

Only this time, Sunday night, it was different.

As usual, Bryan turned on the shower; I watched as he took his clothes
off. I watched as he tested the water. Then, in a twist, he turned the
water off. Then, he set his towel on the floor. He reached into the
cabinet. He pulled out.. vaseline?

He set it on the floor, next to his towel, and then he sat down. His back
leaned against the bathtub, and his legs parted. I couldn't blink as aI
watched him slowly swipe a bit of the thick goop from the container, and
apply it slowly to his uncut cock.

I'd never seen him hard before. His hand massaged the lubricant onto his
penis, each stroke making it larger, each pull taking more skin from the
head. After no more than 4 pulls, the pink from his now fully erect 7" cock
was visible to me.

His head leaned back, and his right hand began to pump. I watched as his
lower lip trembled. His legs began to tense. He was pumping his hand faster
and faster, the smaking sound of his skin and lube filling the air. I found
myself biting my own lip, sub consciously touching my own 5" as he got
closer and closer. It was then I saw, for the first time, his orgasm. His
legs drew together, and his hips started to shove forward. He stopped
stoking, and his cock, now beet red, began to pummel his chest with a rope
of cum. 2, 3, 4 pumps slapped against him, and his mouth could no longer
contain sound. He gasp and groaned, his balls shifting from the pulsations.

I fell backward, away from the sight, and realized, I was close. Through my
own underwear, my hand furiously pumped at my cock. I fell on my back and
let my hips pump my hand. My own orgasm shot into my shorts, pushing the
head over the waist band. The sticky sauce kept coming, I collapsed in
ecstasy.

The next week I tried to catch it again, but Bryan wasn't up for a
show. For some reason, he had taken to hanging his towel on the rack,
right. In front. Of. My. Peephole. Three showers, three days, three blocks.
I had nothing but memory of that night. What was it about the vaseline? He
seemed to enjoy it. I vowed to try it.

On Thursday after school, I was the first home. I raced to the bathroom,
and grabbed the plastic tub. In my own room, I stripped down, and popped
open the top. Even the smell of it got me hard. This was what my brother
used to make him unload. I couldn't get it out of my head. Did this make me
gay? A fagget, like he said? Oh, wait - I WAS looking at him like `that'.

My brain started to fight me on this, but my cock had other ideas. It was
hard, and it was ready. I turned on the music from my stereo, and fell back
on my bed. My fingers, now sticky with this petroleum, slowly slid down my
shaft. I didn't need to prepare- I was already hard as a rock. I clamped my
eyes shut, and my. Mind filled with the vision. Bryan, on his back, his
uncut cock shooting ropes of semen on him. My hand pumped up and down
harder, as I got closer to my orgasm, fueled by my brother's jerk off
session. I was getting there, so close...

"Using my lube, hey, Dade?" My eyes snapped open. There, in the open
doorway, was Bryan, clad only in a towel.

I struggled to yank my beed cover over me, a futile attempt to cover my
shame.

"Don't bother, little man," he said, closing the door. "I know what you're
doing." He pulled the covers away from me, leaving me with only my gooey
lube-covered hands to hide my erection. I was mortified.

"Bryan, I..." I tried to explain, but he responded with a wave of his
hand. Obediently, my voice stopped.

"Look, brother," he shook his head. "I knew this day would come. I knew
you've been jerking off to me in the shower. I've been in this room for
years, don't you think I knew about the peep holes?"

I felt the blood run from my face. He knew.

"Now, I think we both know why you were looking, but I gotta tell ya. I'm
no fag," he warned. "But you, well, I can tell you want this,"

He groped his towel, the outline of his cock now visible. I did want it. I
wanted to see it. I wanted to touch it.

He came closer, and let the towel drop. "Dade, you know my girl moved to
Texas to live with her Mom, so this beast has nothing to use. You gonna
help me out, buddy?"

I didn't know what to say. My fantasy from watching him cum on that cold
bathroom floor, was now literally in front of my face.

He waited only a few moments. "I'm sure this means you want it. Unless you
say no, from this point on, you're gonna be my replacement girl."

He leaned down to me, his arms pulling me up to a sitting position. I could
feel the heat from him as he pushed his now hard unit against my face. I
felt his loose balls slide against my lips, and his 7" slapped lightly on
my face.

"Since you've never had nothin' in you before, we're gonna need you to get
prepared," he said. He reached down and pulled the towel back around
him. "Go to the bathroom. Take a dump. I'll be in there soon. Last chance
to say no, right now."

I didn't speak. I instead crawled around him, stood, and walked to the
bathroom. It was seconds after I flushed that he came in. He had a bottle
of sprite with him.

"Bend over the sink, Dade." I did.

With little warning, his fingers traced the edge of my ass, feeling
around. His fingers were coated with slime, and I felt a digit slide
against my opening. "A little vaseline makes this easier," he said.

The bottle connected with my hole, and with a gasp, he pushed it in. "I'm
gonna fill you with this water, Dade, then you just sit and let it out."

I felt full and empty over an over, and when he was finished, he turned on
the water in the shower. "Time to clean you off, buddy."

I was confused. I mean, I figured he was going to.. use me. I wasn't
stupid, I mean... I knew what sex was. If I was gonna be his girl, and he
was pushing water up my butt...

He led me into the shower and i began to wash up. I turned to rinse, and
noticed that he was rubbing some of the lubricant on his hardening cock.

He entered the shower with me, and I looked at him, confused. We were face
to face, and his hand reached under my balls, pushing his finger into
me. It hurt, but I didn't stop him. His eyes locked to mine, and he nodded
a little. It was time.

He spun me around, and without stopping, his cock lined up with my ass. I
felt him push forward, his cock sliding up my crack, slippery now from the
water. His hand grabbed my hip and pulled me back to him as his other hand
shoved by back downward. I felt a PIERCING pain as his cock slammed into my
hole. I tried to scream, but the wind had been taken from my lungs. I
lurched over, my body recoiling from the thick tool inside me.

"Oh no, don't pull away," he said, his teeth grit. "Don't you move. Get
used to it. Relax, baby. Relax."

I was wedged between him and the wall of the shower. There was no where to
escape, and the pain was relentless. I felt the beads of water on my back,
my hair, my face. It mixed with tears as the pain of my hole throbbed.

Then suddenly, as if by will of God, the pain subsided. I felt my body's
tension fade, and my hole relaxed. By a miracle, my body had figured out
what to do. I could not feel the pain of it, but I also felt somehow
`full'. Bryan must have felt it too, because he loosened his grip on my
hips, and pulled back a bit.

I felt him begin to pump inside me. His thrust pulled back slowly, then
pushed in. I looked down at my feet, my eyes finally allowing themselves to
be open. There were a few drops of blood, probably from the beginning, but
the water was fading them. My own cock, initially ignored from the pain,
was now beginning to respond.

I felt my balls pull tighter as Bryan pumped behind me. My hand, still
covered in lube, met the tip of my dripping cock, and went to work. Bryan
had moved his hands from my hip to my shoulders, controlling each thrust
with my whole body. I turned to look at him. His eyes were clamped shut,
and his lips kept mouthing words.

The water began to get cold, so I reached to turn it off. I pulled away
from my dick, as I could now feel my own orgasm approching. Something about
the way Bryan was pushing into me was hitting a nerve. I could feel a
slight shock every thrust. He had gotten bigger inside me, and was not
touching a part of me I'd never experienced. I started to hear him, with
each thrust. "Take it, Dade. Take my cock."

I couldn't help it. His words mixed with the new thrusts hitting me deep
inside? I felt it all. I moaned, panting, crying, "give it to me!" I
said. My cock fired a jet of cum onto my own feet, my hands not even
touching myself. From behind, Bryan's hands gripped my shoulders and his
hips slammed against mine. "Fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkk" he groaned as his last
thrust pushed deep into me. Our orgasm matched in time, and we both
collapsed into each other.

I didn't move until Bryan turned the water back on. With a swipe pull, his
dick was suddenly no longer a part of me. He rinsed off, not looking at me
again, and left me in the shower alone to clean off. After I was dry and
warm again, I knocked on his door.

"Yeah," he called. I came into his room, and leaned into the doorway. He
had dressed, in basketball shorts and a t-shirt. He was on his bed, looking
at a guns magazine.

"I just..." I started. He slapped the magazine down.

"Yeah, you just." He repeated. "You just took a shower. You JUST know that
nothing happened. YOU JUST know that if it happens again, it will JUST be
nothing. Got it?"

I looked at my feet. "I just..." I said.

"What!" He exclaimed.

I looked at him. "I just... wanted to thank you for my first time."

I closed the door, and went to my room. He was my first.

He fucked me a few more times in the next couple months; it was always at
night, always when I went to bed and Mom was at work. To be sure, I was
always `clean' after every shower. And, I always had the jar of vaseline
hidden tightly in my closet. He never blocked the peep holes again; even
when he wasn't inside me, he always gave me a good show.


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Like it? Email me.  justwriting@soniq.org