Date: Tue, 31 Oct 2017 07:15:32 -0700 From: Boy Mercury X Subject: CLOBBERIN TIME This story is an entirely fictional work of adult erotic fantasy, involving consensual sexual relations between related persons. Copyright me 2017. Nifty is 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 boymercuryx.tumblr.com Email Boy Mercury X at boymercuryx@gmail.com - I really love to hear from you. This story features characters from a larger upcoming story, Project DILF. CLOBBERIN TIME (A preview of PROJECT DILF) by Boy Mercury X Art shouldered his way through the crowd at Mary Beth Hunt's Halloween party. At nearly twice the age of these high school seniors, the only thing that could make him feel more awkward and out of place than being there at all would be being dressed The Thing. "The orange rock guy from Fantastic Four? No way!" he'd said when Vince asked him to wear the costume for Halloween. In fact he'd steadfastly refused until that night, until after the argument. Art wore dark blue running tights that gripped his blocky ass and big thighs. His shirtless torso was smeared with orange body paint, with rocky outlines in black makeup stick to mimic The Thing's stony exterior. The same treatment covered his face and head, his hair buzzed short to skin to minimize the appearance of mid thirties hair loss. "What a revolting development," he murmured to himself, rolling his eyes at the situation. At least he'd been working out for the summer and was pretty built, in his stocky way. "You'll look great," Vince said when he suggested a shirtless costume. "I'm not built like you," Art told him. "I'm a Welsh Plowman, just like my dad, and his before him and all the way back. And you're - " He looked at Vince, with his rounded pecs and shoulders trailing down to his slim hips and blond cockscomb and imagined his descent from a long line of sexy lifeguards going all the way back to the dawn of humanity. At least Art had been working out over the summer, and thick as he was was looking beefy. And the curly hair that covered his chest and belly - and ass - was pale blond so he didn't think he'd need to shave. "Scuse me," Art said to a girl in a sexy witch costume, one of the couple dozen de rigeur sexy costumes high school girls are inclined to. "I'm looking for Vince. Vincent. Vincent Foster." The girl looked at Art and shrugged. Ah well, there was still the sexy cat to ask, the sexy pirate, the sexy whatever. Art tried not to judge, because when it came down to it he was pretty fucking happy with sexy guy costumes. He noted the tall football player with the dimples kicking back his red Solo cup - not much effort on the costume, but man the white leggings make that ass look good. And fuck, that guy with the curly red hair was rocking his gladiator costume. The bright red hair was a little unconvincing for an ancient Roman, but with tits like that who cared? And his buddy the -- was that a magnet around his neck? With photos of cat faces pasted to it? Oh, pussy magnet. Yeah, he just might be. The further he went into the party the more awkward Art felt, and the more eyes were on him. Vince's high school wasn't tiny, but certainly all the senior knew each other, and even smeared orange Art was visibly not one of them. Finally Art gave up. He inhaled, filling his big broad chest with air, and yelled "VINCENT FOSTER!" Everyone turned to him and all conversation stopped. After about 30 seconds, curly redhead guy yelled out "VINCE! I THINK YOUR DAD IS HERE!" Fuck you, Art grumbled in his mind. "Hey that's my brother!" yelled Vince from across the room. As usual, he was smiling. He forced his way through the room and jumped up onto Art, as if he were going to shimmy up a tree. "You came!" Vince yelped, hugging him hard. "Yeah - yeah I did," said Art, steadying himself and patting Vince on the back. "Here lemme see you." Vince dropped to his feet and spread his arms. He wore the same blue tights and was also shirtless, but with red and yellow flames painted on his torso. The dirty blond hair in the center of his chest and running down his six pack abs was rubbed with the same yellow paint, and the fluffy crest of wavy blond hair on his head was gelled up to resemble a flame. "Pretty good Torch costume," Art said, nodding. "You look good, squirt." "Bro, don't call me that in front of people here!" Vince laughed. He took Art's hand and walked him through the party, introducing him. "This is my big brother Art! Hey look, it's my brother! He's a doctor!" Art didn't know quite why Vince made such a fuss over him, but he had to admit it felt good. He'd never been much of a partier in high school himself. Except for the brief time he was in a band, even his college years were filled more with part time jobs than keggers. Art was surprised by how nice Vince's friends turned out to be. He always expected the worst - for Vince to be flaky, flighty, irresponsible. And he always proved Art wrong. He looks at his baby bro across the room, so handsome with his angled jaw and snub nose and... his spirit. So full of possibility. Thanks for this, he thought. *** "You know what you should be next year?" Vince asked on the drive home. "Bamm Bamm." "From the Flintstones?" Art skoffed, keeping his eyes on the road. "You'd be hot, bro," replied Vince. He could see Art and all his dense muscle in a sexy leopardskin, carrying a club. The thought of Art matted blond pit hair hardened him up. "You're hot," Art grumbled, trying not to glance over at Vince. "When I was a kid-" Vince begins. "You ARE a kid," Art interrupts. "Let me finish. I used to watch Fantastic Four and I knew I was supposed to like Chris Evans... and I did! But it was Ben Grimm who really got me." "I remember you watching it all the time. I thought you liked the chick." "Ha! It was kind of like having to come out double. That I liked the guy not the girl. And not the guy I was supposed to like." Art knows this is intended to flatter him. He reaches over and pats Vince's thigh. "Flame on bro," Vince laughed, holding up his arms and flexing. "You're going to make me crash," laughed Art. "Aew jeez I shouldn't even joke about that." "So pull over," said Vince. "I'm good," Art "No," Vince said more intently. "Pull. Over." Art sighed. Then he smiled, feeling Vince's hand on his own thigh. "Yes sir," he says. *** Art found an area off the interstate in a dense cluster of trees. He thought of it as a mini forest. He didn't know the terminology, but his headlights shone onto a bank of yellow leaves on the ground. "Get out," said Vince. "Bro, we can go home...." said Art. "Out," said Vince, firmly, clapping his hand on his brother's thigh. "Yes sir," replied Art, feeling outsized by Vince's orders. The air was cold on their shirtless torsos, their nipples hardening instantly. Just another of the things about the costume Art had balked about - a shirtless costume in October? They argued about it so easily, but in the end Vince won, as he usually did. "It's cold," Art said, his eyes adjusting to the moonlight. Vince clamped his lips on Art's, his tongue diving in to wrap around his brother's. Vince exhaled as Art reached a hand down his tights, wrapping around the far curved cock there. Vince plied his mouth away, to look his big brother square in his orange painted face. "I couldn't believe you came," he said, pecking his Art on the lips. "You came." Kiss. "Just like." kiss. "I wanted." When have I ever not? Art wanted to ask. I'm such a fool for you. Vince raised Art's thick arms up over his head, exposing his full thick torso. "You're so fucking hot," whispered Vince, intoxicated. "Best big bro in the world." Art said nothing but could feel his eyes roll back and his balls tighten as a stream of precum escaped his cock. "You going to be a good boy tonight?" Vince asked in a deeper more manly voice. All trace of his goofy youthfulness faded. Art froze. Vince was doing the thing he did, with his voice, with his posture. Manning up, Art might have said. Making him feel smaller and more compliant. "Yes sir," Art said weakly. Vince spun him around and bent him over the roof the car, Art's chest flattening against the cold surface. Vince peeled Art's tights down, exposing his round white cheeks. It especially thrilled him to see the clear line where the orange body paint broke with pale skin. Art's ass was covered with fine blond hair that made Vince so fucking hard. "Art Junior," Vince said more sternly, sliding a finger into Art. "I need to do this so bad. You understand, don't you son?" "I do," Art responded. "I want you to." "Do you, boy?" Vince slid a second and third finger in. "I don't want to hurt you." "Fuck me," groaned Art. Vince gasped as he pulled his erection and fat balls out of his tights. He sounded more like himself, but quickly resumed his more stern character. He spat in his hand three times and smeared his cock with it, while Art hiked his ass up and spread his legs. He inhaled deeply and then let it release as his felt Vince's cockhead open him. "Fuckkkkkk," Art groaned as the cock filled him, and Vince's free hand pushed him down on the hood of the car, pinning him. "I missed you boy," Vince said, still in his deep voice as he pumped into his brother with his slim hips. "We shouldn't fight." "No sir," Art replied, between the thrusts shoving him against the car, lights flashing behind his eyes. "You're a good boy, Art Junior," Vince said more tenderly. "You're my best boy." "Yes Dad," Art said, feeling heady, and with the words on his lips his balls churned and forced a volley of cum out of his cock, followed by another and another. "Ohmygod!" "Fuck!" groaned Vince, shocked at at how quickly Art came, and by the contractions around his own cock. "Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!" Vince pumped faster and deeper, dropping character and becoming just himself again fucking Art's sweet ass. His every hit pounded Art's prostate, pushed more cum out of his big bro. Knowing that was almost better than the physical sensation of being deep inside that warm soft ass. "I can't... unggggg" groaned Vince, as his body ground against Art's and he shot his load, deep so deep inside Art. "Oh yeah baby bro," belted Art, "Dump it in me, fuck your big bro." Vince took longer to cum than Art, in a more full body experience. He let himself rest on his brother's back, until the sweat on both of them went icy cold in the October air. Vince pulled out, and in the moonlight could see The Thing's orange body paint smeared on his own chest and flat belly. Cool. While Art crouched down to shit out Vince's load, Vince took a handful of leaves and used them to wipe the cum off Art's car hood. Tights back in place, the brothers got into the car and Art turned the key in the ignition. As the car rumbled to life he said "Are you going back to Mom's? Or do you want to come to my place?" After a pause he added, "Or do you have another party to go to?" "Why don't we go to the old neighborhood and watch the trick or treaters?" "It's late for little kids to be out." "There might be a few. Let's go see." Art couldn't say no. He pulled back onto the interstate. As he drove he asked, eyes focused on the road, "Vince, are we the most fucked up brothers ever?" "Us?" Vince asked in response. "No way. Best bros ever." He wrapped his hand around Art's big thigh. "Very best." After a minute Art chuckled. "Yeah. Okay buddy. Let's go." END