Date: Fri, 28 Apr 2017 06:11:53 -0700 From: Boy Mercury X Subject: Brodie This story is an entirely fictional work of adult erotic fantasy, involving consensual sexual relations between related persons. Copyright me 2017. If you're under the age of majority in your jurisdiction, please come back when you're of legal age. Nifty is a free service that depends on your donations to survive. Please help them to keep providing this awesome resource for all of us by giving at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html You can find my tumblr at http://boymercuryx.tumblr.com/ BRODIE by Boy Mercury X 1. "I'm on the ferry" I texted Brodie, "when you get home we can talk about breaking up." I put my phone down on the seat next to me and looked out at the blackness of the night sky and the murky Puget Sound, waiting to touch land again and cried. 2. The day started heading over to Vashon Island so Brodie could say hi to college friends who were renting a place on the beach for a few weeks. I was in a bad mood to begin with because I hate islands. They make me feel trapped. You can't leave when I want to, and have to count on the ferry schedule. Then there's even getting on the ferry, because unless you're a walk-on if it fills with cars ahead of you you're fucked. "Don't be such as sourpuss," Brodie said, bumping me with his burly shoulder. "I'm fine," I replied. "Just promise me we aren't going to get stuck all day. I know they're your college friends, but I..." Brodie wrapped his strong hand around mine and gave a squeeze. "We'll shoot the shit for a while, whatever whatever, just relax." I watched a vein twitch in his thick forearm and thought he's so easygoing, so flexible, no wonder everyone likes him. "Maybe you should just go without me," I said. "I can see you when you get home." "No way babe, I want you with me. I'm lonely without you." I also wondered what the hell we were doing together. 3. Brodie had such an easy masculine way about him. Never stressed, up for any adventure, so physically adept and quick to laugh and smile. I could never get enough of his look and his personality. His job in the family construction business kept him beefy, but not gym sculpted, with real mass in his arms and chest and shoulders, and a slightly curved lower back that made his butt pop. And under all of this is a big open heart, and an equally big dick that always seemed at least half erect. But really it's his hair-trigger laugh and the boyish innocence with which he walks through the world that gets me. I'm so uptight and sensitive to offense at every turn, plotting five miles down every path, while Brodie just steps out free of schemes or plans or dread. Our upbringings are so similar there's no reason we should be so different. We're both the product of white middle class upbringing, good socially liberal parents, both with one brother each (his older, mine younger), both marked for lives of relative ease if we didn't stray too far from the path the circumstances of our birth set us on. But we were still so different. And while that difference maybe drew us to each other, it sometimes seemed it would drive me insane. 4. Brodie's friends were Lane, Adam and Tanner. The three guys had been best friends in college, and Brodie it seemed had circled into their orbit on like a comet, not quite in the same rotation they shared but with a gravity of his own. I kind of hated them right off, but tried not to because it's a bad habit. And I guess I was jealous, because they were already all goofing off because they're asshole jocks on vacation, and I was a scowling dork. Fuck, even I didn't like me in comparison. Of course Brodie was all over them, with high fives and back slapping man hugs. They were so excited to see him, chanting "BRO-DEE, BRO-DEE, BRO-DEE", and Brodie can never resist attention and affection like that. He's just a puppy when it comes down to it, a big muscle puppy that wags and snuggles with whoever shows him the most attention. 5. By about one in the afternoon I was getting antsy to go. I'd noted the ferry schedule on my iPhone and was counting down the ferries we missed. I could have counted down the words I spoke too, because I felt like I'd barely said twelve the whole morning, but it's not as if anyone noticed. The guys were too busy fawning over Brodie, eating burgers and basking shirtless in the sun. I didn't want to get off on looking at them, but it was hard not to. Lane was small and slim but fit, with an easy physicality that made him easy on the eye. Adam was the big guy, a head taller than the next tallest, and rippling with muscle, way beyond just college jock level. Adam was definitely lifting and I wouldn't be shocked if he was bulling with steroids. Tanner was more your regulation jock, built and handsome with a perfect smile, and the friendliest to me of the three. "So finally we meet the mysterious Timothy," Tanner said to me. "I didn't know Brodie talked about me," I answered. "Oh yeah," said Tanner. "Timothy this, Timothy that. Brodie's your biggest fan." I was glad Tanner called me Timothy. His douchebag friends went straight to Tim, which almost everyone does, but I never go by Tim and you should call people the name they introduce themselves with, right? "You doing construction too?" Tanner asked, and I rolled my eyes at myself. "I couldn't do construction," I told him, "I do the computer graphics and coordinate schedules and stuff." I wanted to ask what a nice, handsome black guy was doing bound at the hip to these white douchebags, but I knew even my thinking that was my white privilege surfacing. After lunch they wanted to play some touch football, and I ticked off another couple of ferries, watching my hopes of us being home for Netflix and dinner diminish. I know that's not an exciting night, but everyone else was going to be gone and we'd have the whole house to ourselves and I didn't want to waste it. 6. Touch football turned to beers, and beers turned to getting high, because in Washington state pot is legal, and no way were the bros going to pass that up. In fact it was half the reason they were here, the other half being connecting with Brodie. Early evening brought more food on the grill, and Brodie said we couldn't leave then, just a bite to eat to be polite and we could hit the next ferry. I was getting pouty and angry because, to be honest, disappointment is the hardest thing in the world for me, and even though there is no one who brings me as much joy in life as Brodie, he's also my biggest risk of disappointment. Sometimes I wish we'd never started this thing. It's like his easy going ways bring out the worst in me, to balance him out. On my own I just do my thing and I'm always punctual and organized, but never angry about it, even though I sound like a total scold. But you throw Brodie in the mix, and I become the fuming person checking my watch, wondering why he's 5 minutes, 10 minutes, 20 minutes late. I knew you'd do this to me, I'd say, why can't you just do what you said you would do, is that so hard? He'd blow it off, and give me that smile and a kiss on the cheek, and say I love you babe, let's go get beers. And we would, and because I would never think to go get beers sitting there with him I'd feel almost like a bro myself. We'd shoot the shit and then he'd give me the look, take me home and fold his beefy body around mine and smother the unrest raging in me, leaving just an ember and my gratitude to have him in my life. By nightfall the substances at the bro reunion were flowing freely, and the four guys were roaring with laughter and riffing through college memories I couldn't begin to keep pace with. Our Saturday night was not going to happen, I could see it, ands I was already scripting my I-told-you-so litany. 7. I guess it was Lane who started it. The guys were recounting some sex escapade from junior year, and Lane was mimicking one of Brodie's college girlfriends, straddling Brodie's lap, gyrating his hips and moaning in a falsetto voice. But he didn't stop there. Lane leaned over and put his lips to Brodie's and kissed him, and Brodie kissed him back. Lane spread his hands over Brodie's chest, and the guys moved in. It only took a few minutes before shorts were dropped and boners were out. Lane was sucking on Brodie's tits, making him groan and spread his legs which cued Adam to go down on Brodie's cock, swallowing it whole. Tanner leaned in to kiss Brodie, whose mouth was open with pleasure from all the attention lavished on his tits and cock, and I felt my world collapse. They moved into what must have been familiar roles, and it was as if I wasn't there at all. Adam, the lifter, straddled Brodie next and lowered his muscular ass to take in Brodie's big cock, lubed by Adam's own blowjob. "Fuck me like you did that one time," he said, and Brodie started to pile drive him. Lane and Tanner watched and stroked their own cocks, waiting their turns. By the time Brodie was on his feet he was taking turns fucking Adam and then little Lane, while Tanner's held him from behind, clutching at his chest from behind and even fingering his asshole making Brodie roll his eyes and moan. They were at it so hard, in a way so different than Brodie and I did it, which was almost always slow and gentle. They were all sweating and grabbing, taking whatever they wanted and I was amazed at how hard Brodie slammed his dick up into Adam and Lane. But the big shock was when Tanner bent Brodie over and worked his cock into Brodie's hole. I can't say Brodie never bottomed, but it wasn't his thing. He seemed to make an exception for Tanner though, clutching at his ass cheeks as he grunted and let his buddy's cock drive deep into him, Tanner then grinding away at his beefy butt. I choked up and left. 8. I was betrayed in every way and my heart was sore. I looked around in the cabin for the keys to the truck we drove in on, but couldn't find them. They must be in Brodie's shorts pockets, I thought, and just then I could hear Tanner outside gasping and grunting as he came, no doubt dumping his load deep up inside Brodie. I started crying hard and walked out of the cabin to the main road, with just the clothes on my back and what was in my pockets. I could still hear the guys whooping and hollering. I didn't even know there'd be a bus, but after about fifteen minutes walking, one turned up. It pulled up next to me on the black road, its blue light illuminating the rural road. "Do you go to the ferry station?" I asked. "Straight shot through," the driver said. "What's it cost? I don't have any change." "Free service," she said, and I climbed on. From there to the ferry, all I could think of was Brodie and his college friends. I could see Brodie fucking Adam, who I think was a little in love with him, Adam shooting his load, and then Lane, getting thrown on his back by Brodie, being manhandled in a way Brodie never would do with me. I could see Brodie cumming up inside Lane, while Tanner held him from behind, absorbing the quakes of Brodie's eruption. And then Lane down on his knees, cleaning off Brodie's spent cock, sucking whatever cum was left in his balls. It all played out in my head in different variations, like a movie I couldn't stop. 9. I texted Brodie from the ferry. "When you get home we can talk about breaking up." Sobs ripped through me. I didn't know what I'd do without him. I didn't know how I could live knowing he was out there with other guys, maybe girls too, shrugging me off so quickly without a care in the world. But I knew I couldn't live like this, either, feeling so vulnerable to Brodie's impulsiveness. It wasn't his fault, he wasn't malicious, it was just his nature, and it was my nature to care too much and to feel too possessive. Our relationship was a mistake we never should have made, I never should have made, and I was paying the price for it. Our Wallingford neighborhood home was empty. I'd half wondered if Brodie would have rushed home somehow to find me, even though I didn't see how he could have. In fact he hadn't even responded to my text, or called at all. Did he even know I was gone? Did he even remember me through the intoxication of attention and muscle and sweat and cum? I drank wine straight from a bottle in the refrigerator, and went upstairs to bed, clutching my phone in case Brodie tried to reach me. But he didn't, and I drifted off into a sleep as black as the night. 10. I woke slowly to Brodie's warm kisses on my naked back. "Hey," he whispered, "there you are?" "Where were you?" I asked, tears welling up in my eyes again. "I was on the last ferry after you," he told me, "but it's the late one, it runs the loop to Southworth before it even gets to Seattle. It took a long time." "You didn't call or text." "How could I? You were talking crazy about breaking up. I had to see you." "Why?" I asked, my heart rising in my throat. "So I could do this." He kissed me long and slow, and held me so hard I couldn't get away if I tried. "We shouldn't do this," I said, trying to find my resolve, "you should be free so you can go, fuck, go be with your bros or whatever you call them." "Timmy, you're the only bro I've got. You're it, for life." It was so hard to not cry at his words. It was all I wanted, but so difficult to believe. "Don't worry about those douchebags," he said, then kissed my shoulders and running his rough hands over them, the alternating harsh and soft sensations easing me to the core. His kisses descended down my back, and then he pried open my ass cheeks to expose my soft hole to his eager tongue. No one loved eating ass like Brodie, and I always thought the women of the world suffered a real loss when he started taking up with guys if he ate pussy with half as much vigor as he did ass. I don't know why, but I was laughing between moans as his tongue opened me up, tickling inside my sphincter, probing deeper than I'd expect a tongue to reach. I was so ready when he rested his whole weight on me and his cockhead nudged into my wet hole, then spreading me open for the full length of his fat cock. Brodie drove moans out of my body without warning, the most purely thoughtless moments of my life. His rough hands groped at me, he kissed and bit the back of my neck and his thick legs spreading mine apart to drive deeper into me. "Don't ever do that to me again," I whispered, "I can't take it if you do." "I never will," he lied, if it's a lie to say something you believe in the moment, and drove his hot tongue into my ear as his hips beat against my ass. I couldn't see him on my back, but I knew his body so well I could imagine his ass rising high to drive his length into me again and again, driving my own sorrow and cum out of me and into the mattress, not even touching myself, and then his breathless gasps as he erupted and shoved his own semen into me, pummeling it in with his powerful body. "I love you bro," he said, his cock pulsing inside me, "don't ever leave me." "I won't," I said, believing it with my whole heart. 11. Our parents arrived home the next morning, as planned. "What did you boys get up to?" asked Mom. "Not a lot," Brodie said, snuggling up next to mom, so affectionate. "Just some college friends were staying on Vashon and we hung out." "YOU went to Vashon?" Dad asked me, "You hate ferries." "I still do," I said, "more than ever." Dad mussed Brodie's curly brown hair, and said, "I don't know how you get Timmy to do these things," referring to my famous stubbornness. "Brotherly love," said Brodie, smiling at me like I was the sun in the sky, "just brotherly love." END