Date: Thu, 24 Jul 2003 18:04:14 +0000
From: Brewster Hardy <brewsterhardy@hotmail.com>
Subject: Ballard Boys Part 1

     The author claims all copyrights to this story and no duplication or
publication of this story is allowed, except by the web sites to which it
has been posted, without the consent of the author.

     This story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to person's
living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental.
Moreover, none of the actions of the characters in this story is meant to
condone, approve, or sanction their behavior.


*Chapter 1*


    Ian, bare-chested, tugged the waistband of his denim hip-huggers as far
down as he could without popping the zipper. When he saw the beginnings of
his pubic hair peeking over the top, he figured that looked about right. His
reflection in the mirror of his parents' bedroom was shadowed by curtains
drawn against the blazing, small-town July sun, but what he saw pleased him
regardless, and he involuntarily caught his breath. His 16-year-old
fingertips languidly caressed the newly exposed abdomen, and he found the
texture of his own velvety skin over the underlying, taut muscles oddly
exciting.

     Underneath the skin-tight jeans, his white cotton jockey shorts were
abnormally confining, as he had earlier rolled the leg bands up and the
elastic waist down to create a sort of makeshift jockstrap. Now, his
burgeoning cock was starting to feel uncomfortable as it expanded in this
restrictive position; indeed, the sensation was rapidly becoming painful. As
he moved to adjust his growing erection, he heard the unmistakable sound of
a car pulling into the driveway.

     Racing through the bedroom doorway, through the den, the kitchen and up
the stairway to the room he shared with his brother, Bob, he winced as his
thigh and his pelvis repeatedly hammered the cramped hard-on. He slammed his
door shut and, breathing heavily, tore open the straining zipper and yanked
down the rolled waistband of his underwear, releasing the aching, fully
erect penis. As it slapped violently against his stomach, he heard his
brother's distinctive, ironic rasp.

     "Nice."

     What the fuck...? How long had Bob been in the house?

     "Ian, Bob, come help me with the groceries!" Mom hollered.

     Mind whirling, face reddening, he frantically stuffed the still-hard
organ back into his jockeys and jeans.

     "What are you doing here?" he managed to gasp.

     "Hmmm...never mind", Bob smirked, "What the fuck are YOU up to?"

     "Fuck you."

     Ian threw on an oversized T-shirt, and raced his brother downstairs and
out to the driveway.


************


     It was 1971, and the Ballard brothers figured this was likely the last
summer they would ever spend together. Bob was the elder by 18 months, and
would be heading off to university in the fall. The rest of family would
miss him, as would many other folks in this quiet New Hampshire town.

     Both boys were well-liked, naturally athletic charmers.

     They had inherited the enviable genes of their handsome young parents,
Jerry, 37, and Trish, 36. High school sweethearts, Trish and Jerry had
married at a crazily early age when they discovered she was pregnant.
Strangely enough, the relationship had lasted and grown, despite the odds
against such immature, "emergency" unions.

     Now, as the boys helped their mother carry the groceries up the back
steps to the kitchen, Ian felt Bob's elbow jostling him, and could sense his
brother was barely able to keep a straight face. Oh, well, at least the
hard-on was going away. Ian suspected he was in for some relentless teasing,
at the very least.

     Once the car trunk was unloaded, Ian asked his mom when dinner would be
ready.

     "Well, it's only 4 o'clock now. Let's say food will be on the table by
5:30."

     "Is it OK if I go for a walk?"

     "Sure, honey," Trish looked at her young son. "Are you alright?"

     "Yeah, I just feel like getting some fresh air." Out of the corner of
his eye, he saw Bob stifling another grin and thought, "Aw, jeez, get me out
of here NOW".


************


     Behind the Ballard home was a small wooded area; beyond that was a
large meadow, leading to the banks of the little river that ran right
through town. As Ian headed down to the trees, he looked over his shoulder
to make sure that no one, especially Bob, was watching. Once he was under
the cover of leaves and shrubbery, he exhaled loudly, and then began to run.

     He ran through the woods, his dark, shoulder-length hair catching in
the branches; he ran through the field, keenly aware of the blood rushing
back to his hardening cock; he ran along the edge of the water, until he
found his secret place.

     Brushing aside the overhanging boughs, he breathlessly stumbled into
the secluded hideaway and unzipped his fly with shaking fingers. The head of
his pulsing cock was shining with pre-cum, and Ian groaned as he spread the
clear fluid along the top and sides, and under the sensitive ridge with the
tips of his fingers. This was going to be too quick, but he couldn't help
himself; grabbing his balls roughly with his left hand, he stroked the rod
one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight times. Wave after wave of
orgasm rolled over him as cum volleyed into the late afternoon air. Long
legs buckling, he fell to the ground. Overwhelmed by the great release, he
was blissfully unaware of the last shots of hot sperm settling onto the
T-shirt that covered his broad, heaving chest. Half-smiling, he drifted to
sleep, cradling the still-hard cock in the warmth of his hand.


*Chapter 2*


     "IAN...IAN...FOOD'S READY..."

     Bob listened to see if there was any response. Nope. Wonder where he
went, the horny little fuck...

     "IAN..."

     Bob chuckled as he recalled the sight of his baby brother a couple of
hours earlier. Mind you, he thought to himself, if it weren't for Annette,
I'd be a walking hard-on too. Not that she ever even began to consider
"going all the way", but at least she would hold his dick, and sometimes
stroke it while he caressed her perfect tits. She had recently begun to go
braless, which was a definite improvement, and way less hassle than dealing
with hooks and stuff. He always had to warn her when he was about to cum,
though, so she wouldn't get it all over her hands or whatever, but having a
girlfriend was still more fun than just doing it by himself.

     "IAN..."

     Baby brother...hmmm...well, that was no baby cock on display earlier.
Little bro was definitely turning into a man. Damn. Who knows, thought Bob,
he might end up even bigger than me. It suddenly struck Bob that, even
though they had always shared a bedroom, the boys had not seen each other
fully naked since they were little kids. He certainly had never seen Ian's
cock hard. Mind you, Mom had made that three-panel room divider a few years
ago when Bob himself, in the beginning stages of puberty, had demanded some
privacy.

     Whatever.

     Bob couldn't help grinning at the thought of his brother, paralyzed by
the fear of impending teasing or, worse, tattling. Bob had no plans for
either, actually, but he might let the prospects dangle for just a little
bit.

     "IAN..."

     Ah, there he is.

     Bob watched silently as the younger boy emerged from the back woods.
Taking stock of the tall, finely formed, broad-shouldered youth striding
towards him, Bob realized that he really had not been paying attention to
the physical changes taking place in recent months. He had been so proud of
achieving his own respectable height of 6'3", that he hadn't realized Ian
was rapidly catching up.

     "Hey, Ian, but you might want to change before dinner." The stains on
the T-shirt were glaringly obvious. Was that cum? "Dad might..."

     "Please, just shut up," Ian muttered, as he scowled and squirmed past
his big brother. Bob grinned to himself again, and decided to give the kid a
break...for now.


*Chapter 3*


     The glimmering of a full moon softly illuminated the smooth bed linens
as Ian lay very still, his mind a flurry of unease. The evening had passed
uneventfully, but he could not forget the late afternoon incident and was
further disturbed that his brother had said nothing about it, thus far. Was
he plotting something mean? Was he going to tell mom and dad? Was he going
to tell their friends? Was he just completely disgusted?

     Finally, he couldn't stand it any longer.

     "Bob," he whispered.

     Nothing.

     He waited a moment.

     "Bob," a little louder.

     Still nothing.

     He raised himself up on his elbows, straining to hear any sort of
response. Could Bob be asleep already? That seemed unlikely, as they had
only gone to bed a few minutes earlier. The homemade room-divider made it
impossible for the brothers to see each other's beds. That was normally a
good thing; now it was just frustrating. He decided to make one last
attempt.

     "Bob...are you awake?"

     First silence, and then, finally, "Yeah, why...?"

     Oh, jeez...now what? Suddenly, Ian wished he had just kept his mouth
shut. Damn. Oh, well, too late now.

     "You're not gonna tell anyone, are you?"

     "Tell anyone what?"

     "You know."

     "No, tell me."

     "Fuck off, Bob."

     "No, seriously, what are you talking about?"

     OK, he clearly was not going to make this easy. Fuck. Shit. Damn.

     "You know...this afternoon, when I came in the bedroom and didn't know
you were home..."

     "Well, I wouldn't exactly say you CAME in the bedroom," Bob's smirk
filled the air.

     "Very funny."

     "I thought YOU looked pretty funny. What were you doing anyway, running
around half-naked?"

     "I just...aw, fuck...you wouldn't understand."

     Silence.

     Then, "What wouldn't I understand?"

     Ian thought for a moment.

     "Sometimes...I just get really, really horny...I can't help it." Even
as the words were rushing out of his mouth, Ian was aware that his cock was
starting to get hard again. He adjusted its position in his jockeys.

     "You think I don't understand about getting horny?" Bob laughed. "What
do you think I do with Annette all the time?"

     A few moments passed.

     "Bob?"

     "Uh-huh?"

     "Does your cock ever get so hard that it kind of hurts?"

     Again, silence...although now Ian thought he could hear a sort of soft,
rustling sound coming from his brother's side of the room.

     "Uh, yeah..." Bob mumbled.

     "So, what do you do?"

     Ian waited.

     "You mean, if Annette's not around?"

     "Sure," said Ian, "I mean, yeah, I guess so..."

     "Probably the same thing you do."

     "What do you mean?"

     "You know what I mean."

     "You mean, like, jerking off?" Ian was fully erect now, massaging
himself quietly with his palms through the cotton of his underwear, grinding
his hips a little, as he explored the sensations created by the finely
ribbed fabric rubbing against the sensitive underside of his penis.

     "Mm-hmm..."

     Wow, so big brother jerks off too, even though he has a hot girlfriend.
Interesting...

     "So," Ian bravely took another leap, "Do you jerk off a lot?"

     Bob thought about this for a moment. He had been slowly stroking his
own cock since before the conversation had begun. He had hoped the kid would
just give up, and allow him to jerk off in peace. Now the whole situation
was turning into a rather odd moment. Well, maybe this was what being a big
brother was about. He decided to play the hero.

     "Yeah, I suppose you could say that."

     "Like, every day?"

     "Yup."

     "More than once a day?"

     "Usually."

     "Well," Ian was getting simultaneously frustrated and very turned on,
"When do you usually do it?"

     "Seriously?"

     "Yeah."

     "OK, well," Bob cleared his throat, "Pretty much every morning, when
I'm in the tub..."

     "Yeah..."

     "In the afternoon, if I get a chance..."

     "You mean, at work?" Ian was definitely impressed. Bob had a part-time
summer job at the local camera shop. Ian could not imagine how it would be
possible to masturbate in that environment.

     "Yeah, on my lunch breaks sometimes. I just go in the bathroom, or
sometimes the stockroom."

     "Wow."

     Bob became quiet again. Ian decided to push a little further.

     "So, is that it?"

     "Hmmm?"

     "The morning, and maybe the afternoon...?"

     "Well...no..."

     "So, when else?"

     "For sure, every night before I go to sleep. Otherwise, I stay awake
all night and think about it."

     "Every night?"

     Ian was suddenly feeling sort of stunned, puzzled and thrilled all at
the same time. How could he not have noticed this?

     "Yep, every night."

     "Even tonight?"

     Bob laughed aloud, "I've been doing it the whole time we've been
talking. Why do you think I didn't answer you right away?"

     "You're lying."

     "Nope."

     Silence.

     "Prove it."

     Silence.

     Bob thought about it for a moment as he continued stroking himself. He
was vaguely aware that the unusual conversation must have been somewhat
stimulating, because his 17 (almost 18) year old cock was about as raging
hard as it ever got.

     "Come here," he murmured, a little gruffly.


*Chapter 4*


     Ian was grateful for the cover of darkness as he tiptoed over to the
room divider. Regardless of the things he and Bob had been talking about, he
felt embarrassed by his erection, which was standing straight up and leaking
pre-cum again. Maybe his brother wouldn't notice, because of the shadows and
the jockey shorts. His heart was in his throat as he stepped into Bob's side
of the room.

     Despite the moonlight, he really could not see much. Bob had a window
at the head of his bed, so Ian was able to make out the silhouette of the
older boy's muscular shoulders and neck, as he leaned back against the
headboard like some kind of miraculous statue or something. The dim light
also created a sort of halo around his brothers blond hair, though the guy
had no angel's haircut; it was rough and shaggy, like Rod Stewart's hair.
Ian was more of a James Taylor fan himself, but whatever...as he got nearer
the bed he saw the moonlight was spilling just a little bit of light over
Bob's powerful, hairless chest, highlighting the bronzed skin and large,
dark nipples. Ian could hardly breathe.

     "So?" he managed to grunt out, as he squatted down on his ankles,
trying to make his hard-on invisible.

     "So..." Bob was temporarily at a loss as well.

     "It's kinda dark over here; I can't even see your face..."

     "Hold on..." Bob reached over to his bedside table and struck a match.
Ian instantly saw his brother's strong forearms and rippling torso. He
couldn't help staring, mesmerized, as Bob lit the short stub of a candle. He
felt a lump growing in his throat, and was suddenly glad that bed sheets
covered Bob from the waist down. This was getting weird.

     Neither one of them moved in the flickering candlelight.

     With his 6 foot, long-limbed frame still in a crouched position, Ian's
gaze was just level with his brother's exposed upper body. As his gaze
wandered down from Bob's chest to the beginnings of the fine, dark hair just
above the navel, he became aware of his brother's deep breathing, the
muscles rising and falling. Ian had wrapped his own arms tightly around his
bent legs, and he rocked back and forth a little, not knowing what was to
happen next. He turned toward his brother's handsome face, the chiseled jaw
line, full, beautifully modeled lips, heavily lashed, electric-green eyes,
and realized that Bob had been staring at him. Their eyes locked. Then, in
the silence, the older boy's left hand, the one further away from Ian, moved
toward the top edge of the bedding. Ian could not move his eyes away from
his brother's, though he was stunningly aware that the other boy, nearly a
man, was slowly drawing the sheets back.

     "Look," Bob whispered.

     OK, I guess I was asking for this, thought Ian, as he tried to swallow,
breathe and think. Finally, he forced himself to do as his brother had said.
The first thing he noticed was that Bob obviously slept naked, and then...

     "Holy shit..."

     Bob laughed quietly, "Yeah, it's quite a handful, eh?"

     "Holy shit..."

     "What's the matter? Haven't you ever seen a real man's dick before?"

     "Holy shit..."

     Bob laughed again, and then there was silence.

     Now Ian could do nothing but stare. He felt guilty and weird, but he
couldn't help it. His brother's cock was possibly one of the most awesome
things he had even seen. Perfect. The skin was somehow satiny and smooth and
shiny and soft looking, all at the same time. Perfect. It was also
steel-hard and throbbing, pointing directly up towards Bob's chest, and
shaped beautifully. Perfect. Moreover, the thing was BIG...holy shit. The
head, which Ian now saw was leaking a lot of pre-cum, reached right up to
Bob's navel. The balls, drawn up tight against the cock-base, were huge too.

     "Holy shit..." he whispered again.

     After another moment's silence, Bob grunted, "You wanna watch?"

     Bob didn't wait for an answer. He figured he might as well get on with
it. Besides, his cock had been hard for so long now, he was starting to feel
blue-balls coming on. He closed his eyes, laid his head back, and began to
stroke the magnificent shaft again. He knew it was special. He had felt the
locker-room stares all through high school. Even the gym teachers checked
him out all the time. The family doctor, in recent years, had commented on
it during annual checkups. "You are a lucky young man, Bob," smiling, "You
don't really know it yet, but you'll find out." Right now, though, all that
mattered to him was that it FELT amazing. Funny, knowing that his kid
brother was watching added a special kind of exhilaration, even danger,
which he had never experienced before. Every sensation seemed heightened.
Feeling the waves of pleasure wash over him, he continued to stimulate the
rigid staff with his right hand, while the left automatically reached
towards the piss-slit to scoop out some pre-cum.

     The younger boy stared, open-mouthed, as his brother raised a
glistening fingertip and licked off the clear fluid, quietly moaning with
pleasure. Ian's own cock was now rock-hard, the head completely exposed
above the waistband of his jockeys, and leaking copious amounts of the
stuff. It had never crossed his mind to taste it.

     "What does it taste like?" he managed to whisper.

     Bob, deep in ecstasy, half-opened his eyes and looked at the kid; the
guy was good-looking, he suddenly understood, almost beautiful. The long,
straight brown hair, the dark, aristocratically arched brows, the
almost-black lashes framing pale blue eyes, the thick, cushiony lips, all
combined with a long, strapping frame, deep voice and attitude that were
unmistakably masculine. Still slowly stroking with one hand, barely able to
restrain what he knew would be an explosive climax, he slid a finger of the
other over his gleaming wet cock-head, and then held it to Ian's mouth.

     "Try it."

     The finger entered Ian's mouth and, as his lips and tongue
instinctively suckled on the sweet-salty offering, he forcefully grabbed the
base of his thick, aching cock, but was unable to contain the overwhelming,
involuntary orgasm blasting against his jaw, his neck, his brow, his chest,
his brother's arm. The light sputtered and flickered, but he still saw the
beginnings of Bob's massive eruption, just before the bedside candle went
out. He released the finger from his mouth, with a twinge of regret, but
still savored the trace of saltiness lingering on his tongue.

     Physically and emotionally drained, he fell back against the
nightstand. In the shadows, he could hear his brother's heavy breathing.
Suddenly besieged by an array of conflicting feelings, he wondered what Bob
was thinking.

     "You should probably go back to bed," the older boy finally said,
quietly but firmly.

     "Yeah," Ian whispered, almost inaudibly, as he pulled himself up from
the floor. He crossed the room, and crawled back under the covers.

     "'Night," he whispered. Feeling unexpectedly exposed, he pulled the
sheets around his shoulders.

     From the other side of the room, there was not a word.


...to be continued.

Email: brewsterhardy@hotmail.com