Date: Tue, 18 Oct 2022 19:40:28 -0600
From: Just Writing <justwriting@soniq.org>
Subject: Caught My Dad and Brother

Title: Caught My Dad and Brother


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

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


My routine has been the same for the whole school year. Every Tuesday,
Wednesday, and Thursday, we trained. I made the football team in my
sophomore year, and as a junior, I was now the quarterback. I worked hard
for it, too. I took extra workouts where I could get them, keeping my body
in shape. Not to brag, but the past few semesters I have really become a
different person. I don't look like one of the local kids anymore, wasting
time in this nothing-to-do-town. Soon, I'm going to try for a scholarship,
maybe in football, and get out of this town.

Don't get me wrong. I love my family, and I have some good friends. The
same friends. The same 75 people I've been in school with since I was
5. Everyone knows everyone. There are no secrets in this town. Which I
guess, is ok. I mean, we're all good people, for the most part. Joe's dad
drinks too much; Teresa's sister got pregnant at 14. Things like that. We
all talk, but overall, life is good here. I just want more.

"Snap out of it, Carter! Save some water for the dolphins, ya' homo!"
Practice was over, and I had been standing at one of the group shower heads
for the last 5 minutes. I guess I was daydreaming about getting out of this
town.

The guys left in the locker room laughed at my pal, Jason Barry's
comment. I shook off a bit and finished rinsing my hair. I was about 5'11",
so I had to duck down a bit. I ventured a retort, loud enough for the whole
locker room. "Hey Barry, I'm not the one jockstrap collection, am I?
Fuckin' ball sniffer!"

I heard the rest of the guys laugh. While it was true, Jason had this weird
ritual of wearing a different jock each day (something about luck and
superstition), I didn't really think he was gay. And neither was I. Sure, I
check out the guys once in a while in the shower, but that's just to
compare. Most guys stay soft, around 2-3 inches, so it's common to glance
over once in a while. And, when a dude gets hard, I like to make sure I
measure up - but I don't stare, and I don't.. get off on it. It's just what
guys do. Everyone gets hard sometimes.

Besides, I'm pretty average. I looked it up. 6.5" and cut is kinda above or
at where I'm supposed to be at my age. Most of the guys here are about the
same, except for Mark, who is uncut. Oh, and Cameron. Fuck, I know I said
I'm not gay, but everyone checks him out. He's a senior. Was the coaches
assistant last year. His junk is huge. It's like a porno. I've never seen
it, you know, fully hard - but he came out of the shower once with a chubby
- the whole room went silent. It was easily twice our size, and beer-can
thick. I pity the girl that has to try to fit that in her... whatever.

I swiveled again to rinse my chest and turn off the water. Most of the guys
had gone home. On Tuesdays I would usually hitch a ride with Jason, but as
I walked from the shower to the lockers, he was gone. No big deal, home
wasn't too far away. I checked the clock and got dressed. It was early!
Usually on the first day, coach would work us harder - until at least 6:30
or 7pm; but today he let us off at 430. It was just 5 now.

I cut through the back of the school, down the alley, and onto the main
drag. Our town was small, so it wouldn't take long to get home. On
Tuesdays, my little brother Dade would be at judo - I'm not sure why, but
when the one small judo training school opened, he was all into it. He was
11 when he started, and now at 13, he was a brown belt. It's funny, because
back then, he looked so much like our mother it was scary. He had collar
length hair (his skater phase), with a thin frame. He wasn't very tall,
only about 5'1 - but earlier last year he sprouted up. I guess puberty hit
him about the same age as me. But now, he looks more like me and Dad. We
all have broader shoulders, and have some height going for us. For whatever
reason, we both have Dad's rusty blonde hair. I have green eyes like him,
but Dade's color was blue, like Mom. Dad still comments once in a while how
Dade acts like her; she died about 6 years ago, and my memory gets foggy
when I think of her.

I know he misses her; he doesn't even date or anything. Some nights, he'll
come home from a bar or dinner, but never a date.

I turned the corner to our street, and noticed our car in the driveway. We
had a Honda, nothing special. Didn't need it, really. Dad would drive to
work and the store and to take Dade to practice, but we could walk pretty
much anywhere else when Dade or I wanted to do something. I didn't even
have my license yet, since there was no real place to drive. LIke I said,
small town.

We had 2 story house. Dad's room was on the first floor, and me and Dade
got our own rooms upstairs. I remember many times as kids, Dade would run
into my room when there was a storm, and sometimes when it was really bad,
we'd both creep down the stairs to see if Mom or Dad would let us sleep
with them. That was a long time ago - I can't tell you the last time I've
even seen Dade's room, let alone waking up to him in his underoos, trying
to sneak into bed with me. Sure, we get along - we don't fight like some
brothers do - but he's got judo and his friends. I've got football and
teenager stuff, dating, homework. We just don't connect anymore.

I turned the key to the heavy antique door of our 1920's bungalow. I
plopped my backpack on the stairs and flipped off my shoes. I could hear
the tv on in the living room, but no one was in there. I grabbed an apple
and took a bite. Dade probably left it on. Maybe he's in the bathroom? Ehh,
who cares.

I grabbed my math homework out of my bag and headed upstairs. My room was
at the far end of the hall, and Dade's was just at the top of the
stairs. As I took the last step, I paused. I began to smile from end to
end. There was a sound.

A sound. A sound that only teenage boys make.  We all know it - when you
first learn how to jerk off, and your voice hasn't quite dropped yet? The
gentle and quiet "uhh, ooh," you make as your body starts to realize how
good it feels when touching yourself goes from 'this feels nice' to 'holy
fuck what is this'? This sound was coming from Dade's room.

I tip-toed closer to his door. A gentle squeaking. His bed was rocking,
ever so slowly. My 13 year-old brother was pounding his pud! I'm not sure
why, but I couldn't walk away. I pressed my head up to the door,
straining. I could hear a whisper. "Feels so good," he said. Then again,
"I'm not there yet."

Wait, what? I set my books and the apple down as quiet as I could. Again, I
heard a whisper. "Ohhhh, so tight." Was there someone in there with him?

Slowly, I began to turn the handle to the door. I had to see what was going
on.

And there it was. Right before my eyes. Face down was my little brother,
gasping and huffing into a pillow. His hands, gripping the edge of the bed,
seemingly holding himself in place, as... as my own father, Chuck Carter,
was behind him. They were both naked. Dad had Dade's legs apart,
speed-eagle. His arms, strong and muscled, were stretched out, his hands
pushing onto Dade's shoulders.

I couldn't move or blink. I watched as my father's hips slid, slow, then
fast, up and down against Dade. Each time he pulled back, I could see my
own Father's cock. It was rock hard, standing straight out. I could tell it
was greasy, like vaseline, and each time he pushed forward, I saw him slide
in. His was bigger and thicker than mine; not like Cameron, but he had
maybe an inch more in length on me.

My Dad continued to plunge into Dade's hole. He began to hunch over, his
chest now on Dade's back, and his arms wrapped under Dade's shoulder. In
the moment, I found myself thinking of a wrestling move, but it was clear
what was happening. My dad was fucking my brother. And Dade was loving
it. Their panting turned into whispers again, and between thrusts, I could
hear him. My own father. "Yeah, Dade. Just enjoy it. Take it like Mommy
did." And then, "Do you like it, baby? Daddy just needs to feel it. What
did I tell you to say...?"

Dade tightened his grip. "Yes, daddy. It's ugh- good. Anything for you."

My father's thrusts got harder. He was trying to get deeper, and Dade
winced. Then squealed quietly. "Yes, baby, Daddy is close, and he needs to
finish deep. I'm sorry, if it hurts," He pulled out and slid back, then
again. His cock looked even bigger than before, and I could tell he was
close. Dade locked his eyes shut and with each thrust, gasped a
little. When Dad would pull out, I could hear Dade whisper through gritted
teeth, "Ugh, ok Daddy...Yes, daddy. It's so good. Anything for you."

That's all Dad needed, because with a couple more pumps, he began to moan
quietly. "Holy fucccccck, boy. Daddy's cumming. Daddy's cumming. Daddy's
cumming...."

He held Dade in place, his whispers continuing directly against his ear as
he unloaded. I watched my father's glutes flex with each pulse; I knew that
motion - I did the same thing when I was cumming. "Yes, daddy. Anything for
you."

Dad collapsed some of his weight, and sighed. He was done.

Immediately, my mind snapped into reality. I had just watched my father
fuck his son, and I was standing halfway through the doorway. I ducked to
the hall immediately, tip-toeing as fast as I could to my room. I didn't
dare risk trying to close Dade's door.

Once in my room, I closed my own door slowly and fell against it. I turned
my head slowly to listen to the hallway. I didn't hear them, or anything,
for quite some time. I began to process.

Things started to make sense. My brother seemed to.. like it? Was he gay?
My dad! He couldn't be gay. The things he was saying - was he pretending?
Did he think of my brother as a... replacement for mom? Maybe my Dad wasn't
gay - maybe, because Dade looked so much like Mom? I mean, he clearly
didn't look like a girl. But he was still pretty petite. And I guess with
guys, you didn't have to worry about getting pregnant. But still, it's my
brother! His son!

My brain flickered back to Dade's room. I pictured him. My brother, his
tight little body. The way he slid back and forth to meet Dad's
thrust. They were in sync, and he liked it. No, he wanted it. My eyes shot
open. I looked down. My own cock was at full attention. This was making me
hard? No! It was just sex, it wasn't because it was a dude. It wasn't
because it was my brother. Sex is just hot. Yeah.

I turned my ear to the door again, and strained to hear. I heard the stairs
creak, and sighed. Someone went downstairs. I walked over, turned on my
radio, and sat at my desk. I flipped up my desk lamp, and my whole body
went pale. I could feel the blood leave my face, my chest went flat.

My homework. I left it at the door. The door of the room where I watched my
father fuck. My. Brother. My adrenaline kicked in, and my breathing got
heavier. I slowly walked back to my door, and reached for the knob.

Then someone knocked. "Rocky, found your homework. Can I come in?"

It was my father. I slid back to my desk quick, shoving my hard-on to the
side, hoping it wasn't noticed. "Uh, sure, uh huh!" I breathed.

The door opened and my father, Chuck Carter, heterosexual, walked in. He
was wearing normal clothes, his normal work under shirt and khakis, just
like he always wore after work.

"So, son, I noticed you left your homework and this apple," he paused,
setting it down at my desk, "in a rather odd place."

I nodded. I moved the homework and opened it. This way, I didn't have to
look at him. I could also hide my still raging woody.

He came up behind my, and placed his hand on my shoulder. "Is there,
anything you want to talk about? Perhaps, something you saw?"

I closed my eyes slowly. Man up, Rocky. I inhaled, and then spoke
slowly. "Was it what I think it was?"

My dad kneeled down and began to swivel my chair. He was face to face with
me before I could stop him, and there was no way of hiding my boner. His
eyes flicked down to it and back up to me.

"Rocky," he began, "Your father has got a small problem. See, I really
loved your Mom. She was perfect, in just about every way. I miss her so
much, that I could never think of being with another woman. I've tried to
date, you know, meet people - I just can't bring myself to be with another
woman. It feels wrong to take her place that way..."

He flicked down at my bulge again, and smirked. "As you know, we all get
urges," nodding to my dick. I blushed. He continued. "And that was my
problem. I needed to fix my urges without being untrue to your Mom. One
night, Dade came into my room during a storm. I was dreaming so heavily,
that when a warm, smooth body snuggled against me, my subconscious thought
it was your mom. That night, my body took over and your brother didn't
resist me. He didn't say no. He didn't complain. In fact, he seemed to like
it..."

I shivered involuntarily, and closed my eyes. I couldn't believe I was
hearing this. He paused talking, until I opened my eyes again.

"Rocky, I know this isn't normal. I know you may feel grossed out or what
have you," he sighed, and put both hands on my knees. He searched for my
eyes, and locked. "This is the only way I know how to get what I need in
life, and still be true to your mom. Can you understand that?"

I looked up at the ceiling, and Dad pulled back, falling to his haunches. I
felt my eyes well up. Why was I crying? "What..." I began.

Dad leaned forward. "Ask, anything," he pleaded.

I breathed a couple times. "What... about Dade?" I said. My eyes locked to
him this time. Was he hurting him?

Dad smiled, and sighed. "I love that you care if he's ok. Actually, most of
the time it's Dade's idea."

I scrunched my nose.

"Honestly," Dad urged, "that stormy night, he was the one who started to
rub me. He felt I was, well, aroused, and he began to get me off. That,
mixed with my dreams, was how it started. He began to ask to sleep with me
more often, but I didn't want to worry you - so we started only doing
things when you were at practice."

I couldn't process this. It was all too much, too fast. He was being SO
honest. I didn't get it.

He could tell I was processing. "Look, Rocky, here's the facts. I love you
and your brother more than anyone in the world. Dade is gay. I am not. We
both get something from this. I hope you can accept that. This is a family
matter, and it has to stay that way. Before I leave this room, I need to
know that you will not tell anyone about this."

I didn't know what to say. I know the rules. I know that this was wrong,
that Dads can't do this. But who was I to tell him? And he says Dade likes
it? Is it wrong if you both want it?

"What if I don't accept it?" I whispered.

Dad sighed. He shook his head. "Well, you are my son, and I won't ruin
that. If you don't accept this situation, then we will stop. I'll, uhm,
figure something else out."

I watched him slowly sink into himself. He waited for my reply, and each
second he got darker. I spoke. "It's just weird. I don't know what to
think."

He sat up a bit once again. "I know. I get it. Everything we have been
taught - you, me, Dade - says this is weird, or wrong. But, son, it works,
and it's not hurting anyone. It's helping both of us. Anyway. Think about
it, come to dinner in about an hour. I'm getting us pizza."

He left my room, and I sat there, staring at the desk lamp. Out of habit,
my hand drifted to my dick. It was still hard, and so I casually began to
massage it. I pulled my jogging pants and underwear down, cupping my
balls. I looked down at myself, a full hard-on.

It was confusing. My mind wasn't horny - I didn't look at the naked girls
in the magazine I stole from the gas station; I didn't think about the hot
science teacher that I had last year... but my dick was as hard as ever. I
began to think about Dade, creeping into Dad's room. How he touched him,
and got my Dad to be gay with him. Well, not gay, but get him off. I mean,
technically, Dade has now had more sex than me!

My hand kept rubbing as I thought about it more. What was it like to fuck
another guy? Was his mouth the same as a girl? Carmen sucked on me once at
summer camp, but it was so scary and awkward. She also scraped her teeth. I
flinched at the memory, but my hand got faster. What about the butt stuff?
How did that feel good? Was it like a... vagina? What about Dade? What did
he feel, you know, inside? And cum! Dad finished inside him - that meant
Dade had another guy's cum inside him! I never thought about that, even
with Carmen! If she had finished me off, she would have it in her mouth! Do
girls like that? Do they swallow it? Would Dade?

I felt my legs stretch out. I was getting close already! I could feel my
body begin to tighten, and my strokes were getting longer. I usually used
lotion, but not this time. My hand felt so good, and all I could think
about was that greasy view of Dad's hard-on slide in. Dade was loving it!
Was it really that good? Dad was so big, and Dade didn't seem to fight it
at all. He filled him with a big cock, and then put all of his cum inside.

I slid my underwear down to my ankles, and pulled up my shirt. I could feel
myself churning in my balls, and I knew I was gonna shoot far this time. My
strokes slowed down as I built up. My body wanted to really enjoy this
one. I could feel my teeth begin to dig into my bottom lip. I kept
stroking, my other hand holding up my shirt. It was close...

Then, a knock at the door. FUCK.

I scrambled to yank up my underwear and jogging pants. "One second," I
said, my voice cracking. I was slightly dizzy as I pulled my shirt down,
spun back to my homework, and grabbed a pencil. "Yeah, what's up?"

With the slowest turn of the knob ever, my little brother, Dade, poked his
head through the door. "Rocky?" he croaked.

I slowly closed my eyes. I just saw them fucking, I was in the middle of
jerking off over it, and now Dade is actually here.

My voice was cracking all over the place. "Yeah, uh, what's up, little
man?"

It's funny - I can't remember a time when I didn't call him that. Half the
time, I didn't even use his name. It's been like that since Mom died. Since
the day of the funeral. He wouldn't stop crying, and he was almost
hyperventilating. Dad asked me to do something, so I took him to the
swings, sat him down, and told him that it was ok to cry, but that we are
men, and men have to be strong. I asked him if he was my little strong man,
and if he could be strong for me that day. He still cried, but since then,
whenever something was scary or hard, he seemed to remember being my strong
little man, and it gave him a tougher skin. I guess the nickname kinda
stuck.

He took a step into my bedroom, letting the door slide behind him. I didn't
look up from my homework, and I had successfully hidden my hard-on under
the desk. In the corner of my eye, I saw that he was fully dressed as
well. He has his night clothes on - something that would be normal when I
got home around 6-7, but a bit weird before dinner. Of course, based on
what happened earlier, and his lack of clothing... I guess this made
sense. I mean, why DID Dad get dressed back in his work clothes?

I felt myself start to deflate in the crotch region, so I turned to face
him. Even at 13, he was still such a kid in so many ways. He fiddled with
his fingernails as I looked him up and down. His body was still so small -
you would think he was pre-puberty. Anyone looking at him would think he
was more closer to 10 years old, than 13. His frame was tiny, his hands and
feet were small. I couldn't even see a bulge in his sleep shorts. My mind
began to wander, and I tried to think back to when I was 13. Was I that
small? No, I don't think so. I was in baseball back then. I was limber,
taller, and I'm sure my cock was - well, I don't know what he's packing,
but it didn't seem like much. I mean, anyone who looked at us side by side
would not assume we were brothers at this point.

I snapped back when he began rubbing his bare foot on the carpet, clearly
nervous. I repeated my question. "What's up, little man?"

He looked at me, his eyes beginning to well up. Oh, crap. "I, uh, I, hum,
I..." he stuttered.

My guard dropped immediately and I reached out to him. Like the funeral, he
crashed into me, his tears now wiping on my shoulder. I hugged him, and he
slowed his huffing. He began to whisper. "I... I'm.... Don't hate me,
Rocky..."

He didn't say it, but I didn't need him to. In that moment, I knew what he
meant.

I spoke for him. "So, you're gay, little man? That's cool," I
stammered. "It's the 90's buddy. People are gay. It's cool. I mean, maybe
not super cool in this town, but I get it."

He pulled from me, his eyes completely puffy and red. He sniffled a couple
times, snorting in some. I scrunched my nose and grabbed him some
kleenex. I chuckled a little, knowing that had he not come in, I would have
been using those for a different reason.

His nose wiped and his tears stopped, he pulled back away, and sat indian
style on the floor. When he looked up at me, I knew he was about to say
more, but he caught sight of my soft, but still bulgy, cock. I watched as
his eyes flicked back to it a couple times. Unconsciously, I shifted
position, but it got me thinking - was he actually looking at my junk, or
just the way guys sometimes do - the way I do in the locker? Because, now
he's gay - I have a gay brother. Will that change things? Do I have to
worry?

"I'm not a pervert," he said. I brought my focus back to him, making eye
contact. My brows furrowed. I must have been giving some looks while I was
in my own world, thinking this through.

"I know that, little man, I told you I'm cool," I sighed. "But I mean, that
thing with Dad-"

"I know, Rocky!" he shouted. I blinked. He slid his legs out and got on his
knees. "You don't understand, Rocky. Daddy was so sad about mom all the
time, and he's so strong and safe, and he makes me feel normal, like when I
would cuddle with you and-"

"Whoa," I stopped him. "Wait a minute, what do you mean, 'with me'?"

He pulled back a little, and I saw the color fade from him. He looked away
from my eyes, and then back up at me. With courage I didn't know he had, he
straightened his back. "Rocky, I knew I liked boys forever. During storms
and stuff, you would hold onto me. It was the best feeling ever! And then
when you got puberty, and your voice got all deep, things changed. When I
would come in to sleep with you on those nights, you would cuddle up with
me, but... well, you would do things."

I blinked, and gasped. My brained raced back to the last time Dade came to
my room. Cold, dark, raining, thunder. I was half-asleep, he just crawled
in with me. We we both only in underwear. Nothing happened? I woke up, he
was already back in his own room. I shot a glance at him, daring him to
continue.

"I, I didn't do anything!" I commanded.

Dade looked down at his knees, and began to fumble with his fingernails
again. "No, no you didn't do anything on purpose," he stammered, "but you
would get, uhm, hard. And then you would hold me tighter. I loved it. Then
you would rub up against me."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I never! I couldn't have! I mean, I
did have some sexy dreams, but.. was Dade right? Did I hump him in my
sleep?

"How many times...?" I asked.

"Maybe 4 or 5." He was confident. "The last time, you pushed me away. I
think I tried to help you too much that last time."

Ok, wait what. I need more. "Help me?" I demanded.

"Yeah, uh... So, after the first time, I wanted you to do it again, so I
would move my butt higher... and your, uhm, junk would slide between me. I
uh, really liked it. Sometimes you would get me wet, but now I know that it
was the pre-stuff."

Holy.. fuck. I'm saying it. Fuck. I had no other words. We sat across from
each other for a couple minutes, neither talking, neither looking at each
other. My mind was racing.

Finally, Dade touched my leg. I jumped, startled by the break back to
reality. He continued. "The last time, you pushed me away, so I went to
Dad's room. He sleeps much heavier than you, and well,. he would hold me
too. Eventually, he did things like you did. I wanted it, and I really
liked it."

I didn't move as he told me, in 13 year-old words, how he and Dad developed
into what I saw today. I began to understand it. I think in part, I was a
little envious. Dade was describing something that he and Dad are
sharing. And he's getting laid, as weird as that is. But I had
questions. And honestly, after all of this, I wasn't worried about asking
them.

"So, like, Dade - how do you, like, take it up your butt like that?" I
asked. I could feel my cock stirring a little. All this talk about sex, and
I still hadn't cum.

"It hurts at first, uhm," he paused. "Kinda like getting the wind knocked
out of you. But then, it's in you, and there's this spot that it hits..."

I saw him go flush. He physically blushed, and I couldn't help but smile.

"And you let him, you know, cum in you? Isn't that gross?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No, that's the best part. He holds me so tight, and I
can feel him completely like, relax. I dunno, it's kinda like, when he does
that... It's like I did a good job, and that's the reward. Or like, his
body told me I was good enough to make it happen. It's weird, I dunno, but
it feels like I was kinda designed to help him do it."

He smiled and sighed, "You know like when you get a field goal, and you did
it, and the whole team knows that you were the only one who can be that
guy?"

I nodded, smiling. "Yeah?"

"It's like that. I am the end zone for him," he relaxed, and fell back on
his elbows. His whole body language changed. Just like any other
conversation we've ever had in our room - me at my desk chair, and he on
the floor, lounging, er were just brothers talking. "I mean, I guess
there's no way to explain it unless you try it."

I blinked. Dade looked up at me, realizing what he said. His posture
changed, and he cleared his throat. "I don't mean, like, with Dad or
anything, uhm... I know you're not gay, or anything, or that you have a
guy..."

I waved my hand. "I get it, little man. I get it."

We finished our chat, went down to dinner. It was a quiet meal. My brother
and I had figured it out, and for some reason, it was much easier to
understand his situation. I was still not sure about Dad. He's the adult,
right? Like, he's the straight one who's fucking his gay son. I didn't have
much to say. It wasn't brought up. My Dad prompted for the usual, 'how was
school'. Dade warmed up as he started to chat about how his project in
science was going. I listened, but didn't say much.  Dad didn't ask us to
do the dishes. I shrugged and went to my room.

The homework I brought home was completely forgotten. There was no way I
could concentrate on that!

Instead, I plopped in bed, took my headphones and discman out, stripped
down to my underwear, and dug into the covers. I closed my eyes to the
sound of Green Day at full volume. I let my mind wander.

My hand began to find it's usual place around my cock. It slowly got hard -
and my mind kept going back to earlier. Hearing my brother moan, whimper -
he basically begged for it. Then watching my father, his shiny and slicked
up dick drive into him again and again. Deep into his own son's hole! I
tried to change topics, to think of hot girls or swim suit models, but it
was no use. I couldn't help but think about how much bigger Dad was than
me. Like a steel rod. And Dade just took it. He arched his back. He groaned
with each thrust. What would it feel like? Was it tight? Warm?

My own junk couldn't help but react now. I'm not sure what I was
thinking. Was I turned on my my own Dad's junk? Did the idea of my little
brother being fucked get me going? It didn't matter. My hand took
control. I began to slowly stroke. My full cut 6.5" commanded me to please
it. I kicked off my underwear and spread my legs. I could feel my breathing
get into rhythm with my strokes. I wanted this to last, so I reached over
to my nightstand. I was about to open the drawer when -

"What the fuck!" I shouted. My hand had brushed against someone! My eyes
darted open, and my discman went flying as I scrambled to pull my sheets
around me.

"I'm.. I'm sorry, you couldn't hear me when I-" he began, but I was pissed
and embarrassed.

"Dade-fucking-Adam-Carter! What the hell dude! Get the fuck out!"

He backed to the door, but didn't move. I shook off the daze of fantasy
that I was in, and registered what was going on. He had come into my room,
who knows how long ago, and was watching me jerk off!

I repeated myself. "Fucking Dade, I said get out!"

He didn't move, and I finally had shuffled enough to be covered. What the
fuck?

His face was ghostly white. I began to wonder what was actually going on? I
slammed my headphones to the nightstand, and yanked up my underwear, under
my sheet. At this point, it was pointless, since he saw me yanking it, but
still.

As I huffed and puffed, he whispered. "I wanted to give you..."

I stopped moving. It was pretty dark in my room with only the desk light
on, so I sat up a bit. I sighed. He looked like he was about to cry. I
normalized my voice. "Dade, dude, you just freaked me out. Why were you so
close to me, in my room, when I was clearly, you know...?"

He edged closer to the bed, and I slid my legs back, indian style. he
reached out to the fringe on the afghan blanket I've had since Mom made it
when I was a kid, and swirled the yarn edges. He was very nervous, and I'm
sure I scared him with my anger.

"Well, talk, little man," I urged.

He didn't look up, but he took a deep breath. "Dad said you looked freak
out," he started. "So he said I should come here and ask you if you're ok."

I nodded. I began to speak, but he continued. "So I knocked on the door,
and you didn't answer, and then I opened the door a little, and then I
heard your music super loud, and I knew you couldn't hear me-" he was
speaking faster with each word, "and so I thought I would talk louder but
you didn't hear me, and then as I was walking in you pulled down your
underwear and you started to do stuff and I thought that meant you knew I
was here and wanted me to see and then I got closer and I heard you say my
name and so I thought you wanted me to be here and I'm sorry because you
didn't open your eyes I thought you were trying to keep it a secret and you
said my name like 'oh man' and usually when I am doing that to myself I
think of guys like Dad and you and then I pretend my hand is someone else
and then you reached out to me and so I figured you knew I was there and
then you screamed and got mad so- "

"OK ok ok ok little man, OK, stop," I said., leaning toward him. He was
almost hyperventilating. I had said his name? Oh...

"Ok, so don't be mad at me Rocky, ok because I love you and when I came in
here and you said my name I really was happy because I thought that you-"
he stopped. "Uhm, I just wanted to come up and see if we were ok."

He was lying. It was all making sense. I pulled his arm to the bed. He sat,
and kept fidgeting. I knew what was going on. I had to decide now.

"Dade," I had to do this right. "Did Dad really send you up here to see if
I was just ok, or is this something else?"

Dade looked down at his feet. I waited. After what felt like forever, he
spoke.

"Dad asked me to come up here to see if you were ok. Yes." He inhaled
deeply. "But he also knows something about me."

I blinked, and asked, "What's that, buddy?"

"Well," he began to shuffle a bit. "Rocky, you asked me all those questions
about stuff, like what Dad does with me and how I like it and all that. And
then when you were saying my name and playing with your... stuff... I
thought that, well... 'cuz you know I told you how much I liked it when you
used to cuddle me... and I told Dad that I liked it when you held me and
back then it was what I used to pray for thunderstorms and..."

"And you thought that when I was here, jerking off, and said your name,
that I was thinking about fucking you?" I offered.

He looked up at me, and nodded. In a whisper, he responded. "I asked Daddy
if he would be mad if I asked you to do it to me."

"I see," I said. The silence began to fill the room. For the first time
since he sat down, I noticed that my cock had remained rock hard. Until
now, I didn't know what to do, but my junk sure knows what it wants. I
closed my eyes, and took a breath.

"Dade," I said, my eyes still clamped shut.

With a small scratch in his voice, he squeaked. "Yeah, Rocky?"

"You want this?" I said, squeezing my dick under the layer of sheets and
underwear. I kept my eyes closed.

"Yeah..." he croaked.

"And Dade," I asked, "Dad knows you are up here for it?"

He hesitated a bit. "Yeah, I mean. Uhm, he told me that I should figure out
if you're ok..."

I forced my eyes tighter, and clamped my mouth shut. I had to know.

In a single motion, I flipped the sheets off my body, and slid my underwear
down to my ankles. I could hear Dade inhale, but I couldn't open my eyes. I
had to know.

"Do it. Mouth stuff only. And don't moan or anything." I commanded. I felt
weird, making these rules, but I'm not sure my brain was working. I was so
horny, my body couldn't resist the idea of it.

He didn't say a word. I felt him on the bed, shuffling into position. His
body weight began to bow the bed a bit as his arms pushed into the bed,
next to my hips. I could feel the heat of his chest by my thighs as he got
closer to me. Without warning, my cock pulsed, and I could feel a bit of
liquid come out. When I jack off, that liquid always made my hand slicker,
adding lube to my strokes. I heard him inhale sharp as it happened.

"Rocky," he whispered, cautiously.

"Yeah, little man?" I said. I wanted him to know it was ok, but I was still
unable to open my eyes.

"Can I swallow it... you know, when you pump it out?"

The question made my junk pulse again, and I didn't know what to say. I had
never had anyone do this before. I knew about STDs and that I was still a
virgin. I just nodded. I heard him exhale, realizing that he was holding
his breath for my answer.

And then it happened. The single best feeling of my entire life. Dade's
tongue, lips, and throat slid down my shaft. A warm, slightly wet, slick
tunnel - engulfed the first half of my shaft. On contact, my whole body
tightened, and all energy went to my cock. I inhaled myself, and my hands
tightened into fists, gripping the thin cloth of the sheet.

He then licked the precum off my cock, his mouth still around the top half
of me. I couldn't help it, my mind had lost control of my body. I flexed,
my abs got tight, and my hips thrust forward. My eyelids betrayed me and I
opened just in time to see my whole cock slide into Dade's throat.

He gagged at the unexpected thrust, and I immediately began to retract. But
Dade was ready, and he matched my pull back. His lips tightened around my
girth, and he forced his head to follow me. As I backed up to the mattress,
his head kept going, now forcing himself onto me. He didn't stop. Again and
again, he began to stroke with his mouth, sliding his tongue on my shaft,
swirling half my length, slurpling lightly as he pulled back, and then
sliding down again.

My eyes not only defied me, but now they couldn't look away. I watched as
my brother, his soft, dirty blonde skater-length hair fell over him at each
thrust of his neck. I could feel his hands, small and soft, holding my
hips. He was silent, only a few inhales here and there between his deep,
wet thrusts.

Without warning, he pushed beyond the halfway point. I heard him gag again,
but I couldn't pull back. He had me against the mattress, his body pushing
forward, and I felt something new. His lips now reached the base of my
shaft, and I could feel the tip of my cock slightly bending. I was there. I
was all the way in. He had me all the way down his throat. My back arched,
and my hands re-gripped the bed. He held me there, deep, as long as he
could, but didn't stop. He pulled back, then slid down again.

This was almsot too much. His pace got faster, and slicker with each
stroke. Instinctively, my hands went to his head, and I lightly stroked his
hair. His whole body twisted, and I heard him moan ever so softly. He was
loving this, and my single touch was all he wanted.

I couldn't hold back much longer. His mouth and throat were pulling me
close to the edge as he bobbed up and down, faster and faster. I had to
warn him.

"Dade, uh..." I stammered. My hand was still on his hair, and I had begun
to grip him. he seemed to like it, but I was trying to tell him to pull
back.

"Little man," I urged. But he didn't get it. Deeper he pushed himself.

"I'm gonna blow soon..." I tried. He didn't stop. He kept sliding my cock
over his tongue. He kept pumping me into his throat. He wouldn't let me
pull away.

Instead, he grabbed my other hand, and yanked it to his head. With his
other hand, he locked my fingers together, and pulled them together. I was
now intertwined between his hair and the back of his head, following with
each thrust. He moved up and down, and I just got closer and closer.

Abruptly, he pulled off me - it was the first time he had me out of his
mouth. My hands, still locked behind him, he looked up. He was teared up,
flush, and drooling. I was seconds away from cumming.

"Control my head, Rocky." he commanded. "Make it cum in me."

His head tilted back to my cock, and with both hands, he pushed my heads to
his head, pushing himself down. He slammed both hands back to the bed, next
to my hips.

Fucking Stupid. Rocky. You're an idiot.

With no further direction needed, I tightened my grip on his head. He
breathed in through his nose. I began to slide my hip up. He moaned. My
cock, now calmer than before, began to thrust into him. He moaned
again. This is what he wanted. Me. Controlling. Him.

I tested the waters. I began to pull his head down. He didn't resist. I
pulled him back, no resistance. Back, and forth. I began to pump my
hips. In, and out. Yes. This was it. Finding a rhythm, Dade matched my
thrusts to his breathing. I could feel my cock slide into his throat. I
could feel his tongue slide against my veins. My grip held him in place as
I began to pump 2/4 of my shaft in and out. I was getting close again.

"You wanted it, right?" I asked, not waiting for an answer. I pushed my
cock in and out faster, and I couldn't stop. My thrusting was going deep,
and he started to gag, but I couldn't stop, and I didn't care. He wanted
this, he wanted it. My cock began to feel thick as possible, and I couldn't
control it. I clamped my mouth shut and screamed into it as my first shot
of cum slammed into him. I kept him tight to my cock as I thrust with each
pump of cum. 2, 3, 4 pumps of cum went into him, and he didn't fight
me. Even as he gagged, he didn't fight it. I could feel him twisting his
tongue to get each shot down, and only after the 5th or 6th pulse did I
think to let go of his head, his hair.

I had done it. I had given him what he wanted. And I had gotten my first
real blow job.

He didn't pull off me until my convulsions had subsided. I felt him back
up, onto his haunches. His breathing was heavy. When I opened my eyes, Dade
was smiling. Actually smiling.

I couldn't help but ask, "What's the goofy grin, little man?"

He panted lightly, answering, "I've wanted that for a while."

I smiled. It was really good. I mean, not as weird as I thought. I was just
about to thank him for it, when -

"So, boys, we good here?"

I didn't bother to even notice that the door was open. Standing in the
doorway, arms folder at his chest, my father smirked at us. I quickly
pulled up the sheet again, covering my half-hard, slobbery junk. Dade just
looked up at him, his smile still goofy.

"I'm.. I'm not gay." I said. I don't know why that was the first thing to
come out of my mouth.

"Neither am I, Rocky. Now Dade, you got what you wanted, don't make it
weird. Go shower and hit the hay, ok?"

He hopped up and tromped out of the room, not arguing. He did get what he
wanted, I suppose. Dad looked back at me, and took a step into the room. In
a softer, but empathetic voice, he spoke. "You don't have to be gay to have
your needs met, son. Don't hurt anyone, don't abuse the privilege, and
don't expect anything. Your brother won't always want to do these things,
and you will never make him. Respect him, enjoy it, and above all, don't
talk about it. This is family only, right?"

I nodded. He was right. Regardless of what I thought before, I was just
like him. I had fallen to the temptation, and... I may want it again.


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