Date: Tue, 13 Feb 2018 00:05:26 +1300 From: Ronan Heathcote Subject: American Daydream / Chapter 1 Disclaimer: The following work is a piece of fiction. If reading this material is illegal at your age or in your area of residence, or explicit writing about sex between men, and family members is offensive to you, please exit the page now. This work is the property of the author and may not be reproduced nor reposted without the author's prior consent. For comments and inquiries, do feel free to email me at ltkevnger@icloud.com. This is my first story on Nifty so I apologise for the unattractive .txt format but I'm not sure how to convert it to anything else from my MacBook. Please do write to me with comments, I'd like to know how I went with my first piece. The American Daydream Chapter 1 My father is a rich, rich man. Self made, though lucky, having discovered one of the last major oil fields of the east at a young age, my father made an uncompromising fortune before returning to Arizona and settling down with a woman he had met through his worldly exploits. My mother had always been a cold woman, a striking, clichéd looking German woman of high intellect. Shortly after I was born, only a year after my brother, Jack, my father was caught for the first time in one of his many scandalous affairs, providing my rather emotionless mother with a convenient excuse to leave him and the children. My name is Casper Armstrong, and I am sixteen years old. As suggested above, I was raised in a well-off family, to say the least. We lived fairly perfect lives, my family and I; we were well travelled, having lived for periods around the world, in places from Moscow to Shanghai, Stockholm to Marrakesh. Jack and I were the perfect mix of European and American standards, from our educations to our appearance. Whilst not overtly tall, I stand at a reasonable size of five feet, seven inches. Bright, all American blue eyes are likely my most noticeable feature, and my long, somewhat shaggy pale blond hair is what first allows a stranger to judge me the `artsy' sibling between my brother and I; his darker, more clean-cut appearance, coupled with his year above me and height his height of a little over six feet allowing Jack a look of sophistication and maturity over me. Our busy sport schedules have always kept the two of us in shape, Jack preferring tougher, more `American' sports such as football, baseball and golf, whereas I enjoyed the mastery of sports such as skiing, ice skating and gymnastics. Where I was lithe and toned, Jack was somewhat muscled and strong, without seeming overtly thick skulled. Growing up in an Arizona manor with our father always at work and our mother far away, or travelling the world with an endlessly changing line of nannies as my father either screwed them and subsequently got bored, or they messed up in some other way and were fired, meant that as the other's only permanent fixture, Jack and I have always been close. Certainly that bond faded somewhat as we permanently settled back in America, began high school and put down roots of our own, but we never stopped being close brothers, even if we went a long time without catching up. The problem, however, was that our friendship was less deep than it could have been. We had never looked toe other for male guidance or leadership as we grew, from the onset of puberty through to our mid teens, which was where my problem lay. Now that I was sixteen, I had finally settled on the fact that I was gay. I had messed around a bit with friends from here and there, and I had actually been fucked. The issue? My family is subject to a huge amount of international media coverage. Whilst people finding out that one of America's most important businessmen's sons was gay wouldn't be quite as huge as say, Kylie Jenner's pregnancy, it would so be massive. As such, I was stuck in the closet, the `arty', `quirky' Armstrong boy, nobody knowing for sure other than the few other adolescents I had shared bodily fluids with. Whilst I'm sure my father and brother had their suspicions, neither had ever brought the topic up with me, and I was forced to explore my identity and homosexuality alone, as I knew my brother had been left to explore his heterosexuality with a handful of girls here and there. On the upside, I knew what I was and I knew what pleasured me, both from others and from my own hand. I knew how much I loved the taste of cum sliding down my throat despite my limited experience, and I knew that my fantasies developed into something not quite ordinary for most gays, never mind straight people. In my quest of self pleasure, I began on chat sites, where often I found men asking if I'd ever been with my brother, if they could be my daddy. This is what initially piqued my attraction to incest. I found incest themed porn, and I could barely stifle my moans once I began reading incest erotica online, never climaxing as hard as hard as I did when reading something on nifty.org led me to shoving two unlubed fingers up my tight, hairless hole as I jacked my teen cock raw, the forbidden thoughts of incest turning me on even further somehow. It was a situation like this, far from uncommon in my life, that one day caused a huge turnaround in my life. It must have been about eight o'clock in the evening, not long after dinner, when all the staff had gone home and Dad was away in China, or Saudi, and I was tugging out my fourth load of the day, at least, my browser on a slow auto-scroll through my current incest story so I could allow a finger to slowly tease and circle my asshole. Not thinking that anyone was home, I jacked my cut dick without caution, moaning and gasping, loudly letting my brother's name escape my lips over and over as I imagined he and I in the story I was reading. Before long, my toes were curled, pre-come was leaking uncontrollably down my seven and a half inch shaft and my eyes were closed as I furiously double fisted my adolescent member. "Oh my god Jack... yes..." "Jack please, bro, give it to me." "Ah, you're so huge brother, don't stop!" "Fuck, fuck, f-fuck Jack, Jack! Fuck you're going to make me cum bro!" I gasped. I was unaware of anything else in the world as my body exploded, ropes of cum shooting far over my head, shortening, landing in my hair, on my face, chest, until I let go of my quivering cock and let it pool the remaining cum on my stomach. "Is that right, bro?" These words shocked me back to earth, feeling louder than a gunshot despite being hardly more than whispered, as my eyes flew open to see Jack, my brother, standing at the end of my bed, where I lay naked and cum soaked, his face betraying no emotion. I gulped. This was my worst nightmare, and I could only imagine the shit I had gotten myself into. To be continued. This is the end of the first chapter. I do hope that you've enjoyed it, any and all feedback would be beyond appreciated, particularly as I look to write the second. Please do email me at ltkevnger@icloud.com Yours, M.V.