Date: Sat, 22 Jul 2017 18:20:30 -0400
From: Orson Cadell <orson.cadell@gmail.com>
Subject: Culberhouse Rules 9

See original story (www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/culberhouse-rules/) for
warnings and copyright. Highlights: All fiction. All rights
reserved. Includes sex between related young-adult men. Go away if any of
that is against your local rules. Practice safer sex than my
characters. Write if you like, but flamers end up in the nasty bits of
future stories. Donate to Nifty **TODAY** at donate.nifty.org/donate.html
to keep the cum coming.

*****

I talked Ryan down off the ledge a few times and then finally said, "Ryan,
shut it. I got this. I got *YOU*, bro. Just breathe and let me deal, okay?"
Ryan practically melted at the words and was still smiling and blushing
when we got to campus. We agreed to meet in the weight room after last
class and pump the upper body a little, then shower and dress (we both
brought night-out clothes). I was actually more worried than Ryan at what
the night might hold; he had my rock-like confidence to fall back on
whereas I had... abso-fucking-lutely nuthin. I was a wreck. Ooo, boy!

*****

Culberhouse Rules 9: Cabbages & Kings

By Bear Pup

*****

It was odd, in a way. I usually saw Jack Arnhart around, but not
much. Today, the three brothers seemed to be everywhere. Jack's muscled
bulk leaning against a doorframe, talking to one of the cheerleader
types. He was currently playing the role (and quite well) of King Stud of
the Senior class. Billy, the beanpole and basketball powerhouse, a Junior
like us, always seemed to come around a corner just as I looked. Even the
youngest, Dave, a freshman already lettered in swimming, flashed into view
frequently when I looked up.

I couldn't tell if they were around more, or just seemed like it since I
was constantly thinking about what the night would bring. Like you never
think of cabbage as a veggie and then it's St Paddy's Day and it's cabbages
everywhere. Dad said the same thing when they bought Mom's car. No one in
the family had ever really heard of a Kia Soul (other than the hip-hop
hamsters from the commercials) before they bought it, and then, BAM, it
seemed like every third car was one of the little boxy things.

As agreed, Ryan and I met up at the weight room after the last class. We
pumped just enough on each muscle group to get a good pop, then showered. I
shaved while Ryan smirked through this perpetually-perfect skin. We dressed
and headed out. It was only five, leaving us two hours to work our nerves
into a frenzy. To keep it within reason, we headed down to Indian Hills
Bowl and threw a few frames. The physical activity was not enough to break
a sweat, but enough to keep us from jittering out of control.

At six, we broke and had a bite, neither of us terribly hungry. The alley
had some reasonable hot dogs, turning endlessly on one of those little
rolly-things for several years at a time so they were plump and almost
crispy when you bit in. They also, beyond all reason, had fucking killer
tater tots. The owner's wife made them each week and froze them. They came
out shaped like fat mozzarella sticks and so fluffy and cheesy to be beyond
compare.  Overall, the perfect salt-to-grease ratio for a teenaged meal.

We bowled a few more frames then headed out, cruising up Highway 62. We
made a few loops, checking out The Rat each time. At quarter-til, we pulled
in and parked all the way in the back. We'd just rolled down the windows
when someone thumped the trunk, startling us both. It was Billy. He jumped
into the back seat wearing a pair of his signature B-Ball shorts and an
oversized wife-beater, not that different from his on-court uniform.

"So, glad you guys came by. Jack and Dave are at our uncle's place off
Timberlane. He's out of town. You two want to join? You know, talk, hang
out?" I was already backing out and he laughed, "I guess that's a yes."
About two minutes later, I pulled of the highway onto Timberlane then to
one of the dirt 'streets' that had been laid out but only lightly built
before the last housing bust. I was starting to get nervous and could sense
Ryan on the edge of panic; where better to kill us and bury the bodies? The
last cops down this road were probably underneath it now. I finally spotted
a light, one of those way up on a pole over a yard. Billy had us pull in
and I recognized Jack's big truck.

We parked and followed Billy, not into the house proper, but into the big
RV out front of it. The door opened and yellow light flooded out. As soon
as Billy cleared the door, Jack was visible, spread across the couch in
jeans and a lumberjack shirt. He was like a King presiding over his
court. Dave, who seemed so small in proximity to his brothers, was at the
table industriously rolling a joint. The knave, waiting in the wings. Jack
spoke first.

"We got PBR," holding up his beer and an extra, unopened one, "Southern
Comfort and Panama Red. What's your poison?"

"I'm gonna stay mellow, so I'll wait for Dave to finish rolling the
cabbage."

Ryan grabbed the offered PBR and popped the top. Billy joined Dave at the
table, and I sat on the arm of one dilapidated chair while Ryan sank into
the other. I took out my phone and read aloud, "'Betting I know what really
made it better with your Brother. Let's talk. The five of us. Text me.'
Okay, we texted, we're here. What's this about?"

Dave and Billy were staring daggers at Jack, who shifted nervously. He
waved to Dave who lit the spliff and handed to Jack after a puff. He passed
it to me. I took a long draw -- good stuff, I could hear shards pop but it
was still silky-smooth -- never letting go of Jack's increasingly-worried
eyes.

"Well, since the jackass who got us into this won't talk, I will." Billy
turned to face us fully. Meanwhile, I slowly exhaled and passed the joint
to Ryan who took his own hit and passed it across to Dave. "Jack here had a
hunch and instead of asking us, he just ran with it as per usual. He
thinks... well, we all three do, that your CYO story is at best only
half-true and that you two are suddenly buddies because you found a way to
release the tension that had nothing to do with religion. What do you think
about that, Taylor?"

I shrugged, "I don't think anything cuz you ain't said anything. You
haven't even said what you think."

"We think you found a better way to deal with the stress of being
competitors and brothers at the same time. A way to be close, real
close. That's what we think."

I felt my back tense and Ryan's muscles tighten but didn't let anything
into my voice. "You still haven't said anything, Billy. But what if all
your suspicions and whatever other weird shit you've thought up is true?
What then, Billy? What's it got to do with you, and why should we care?" I
took the joint as it came round again and took a hit, then passed it to
Ryan.

"Aw fuck!" Dave's voice was lower than expected from such a small
body. "Enough pussyfooting. Jeeze, you jockheads give me a headache. Are
you and Ryan foolin around or not?"

Ryan choked hard on his hit; it looked like he might puke he was hacking so
badly. I didn't even blink. "So what, Dave? What if we say no and what if
we say yes? What difference does it make? What are you three gonna do about
either option?"

Dave's response was instantaneous, "Well, if it's no, we get stoned and
laugh about it at school on Monday."

"And if it's yes?"

"Then I get out of these fucking hot clothes and relax a little." There was
a clear challenge in his eyes. The littlest of the brothers was fierce and
decisive. Jack might be the risk-taker and Billy as forward as he was on
the court, but the kid was fucking fearless. I didn't even look at Ryan
even though he hissed as I reached down and dragged my shirt out of my
pants and over my head.

"I got no problem with skin, dude. Your house, your rules. Get
comfortable. It is a bit warm." I upped the ante by opening the top two
buttons on my 501s (I don't like belts), just enough to let the hair
show. All three of them stared. Jack at my packed crotch, Billy at my
flexing belly and Dave at my pecs. Every eye in the trailer shifted when
Ryan got to his feet. He turned away, slowly taking off his own shirt which
made his smooth and muscled back ripple in seductive ways.

"You're right, Taylor," he looked up at me when he turned back and sat
again -- I was the only one who could see the stark fear there -- "it is
warm in here." Billy was licking his lips unconsciously, raking my
brother's body with his gaze. Jack was still trying to stare a hole in my
jeans and Dave started to smile so widely I thought he'd crack his face in
two. He stood and his shirt and shorts were simply... gone.

And he was gorgeous, absolutely stunning. His small swimmer's build was
incredible with thick thighs and strong shoulders and little else. He was
also -- I shuddered in lust -- completely shaved. There was not a single
hair to be seen below the neck. The cock revealed was thick, meaty and
darker than the rest of him with tight, round balls underneath. It was also
slightly chubbed. I heard Ryan gasp and sensed him turn. I glanced down and
his eyes were wide and worried.

"Okay, guys, I guess that answers the questions. But this is not the
night. We didn't know if you guys were going to kill us, bust us, blackmail
us or what. And damned if the 'or what' option isn't a mind-blower. You
guys talked about us; we never even considered anything like this. I need
time to process. Ryan's his own man, but I am not ready to see him get it
on with other guys." I turned full to Ryan, "Bro, I'm okay with whatever
you want to do, but if this is going to get heavy, I need some air. Let me
know and I'll come back and pick you up."

"No!" four voices jumped. Ryan looked petrified; Dave was obviously aghast
that he'd fucked up; Billy was just startled; and Jack... well, Jack still
hadn't stopped looking at my crotch and his voice sounded like a toddler
whose candy was being snatched. I settled back on the chair's arm.

"Okay, good." I slowly started to strip out of my pants. "Like I said, no
problem with skin, but I'm, uh, not ready for much more right now. Can we,
you know, talk for a while? Hang out," I snorted at the pun, "for tonight
and see where we go later? That cool?" Being the exhibitionist that I was,
I'd turned as I started to lower my jeans over my furry, jock-framed
ass. Two of the guys hissed in breaths and Jack literally whimpered. When I
got them off, having already toed off my sneakers, I turned and I thought
Jack was going to faint. I reached down and scratched my big nuts in the
sweaty fabric of their prison, knowing that it made me look even bigger
than when I was all the way naked.

Jack's hands were shaking so badly he couldn't get the buttons
undone. Finally, he just growled. Buttons flew everywhere and the shoulder
seam on one side ripped as he got out of the shirt. The tight jeans took a
little persuading over his meaty ass, but he was quickly revealed. He kept
on his baggy, old-fashioned, insanely-hot boxers that already had a wide
wet spot where some throbbing monster was trying to escape through the
fabric.

Ryan's breath let in a gush. Jack was probably a foot taller than me and at
least fifty pounds heavier, all muscle, and all hairy. Like me when
younger, he'd been an all-rounder. I grew to be strong and fast, with good
moves and balance from my wresting; I ended up a runner and defensive back.
With his bulk and brawn, he was either on the line or breaking through it
as a short-yardage power-fullback or a nose tackle. I knew what it took to
keep myself in shape and had tremendous respect for what he'd built himself
into. Ryan, on the other hand, was simply panting with lust.

While our attention was distracted, Billy had shucked down to his own small
briefs. He was what I'd expected, tall, lean, quick. Plenty of hair but in
very concentrated areas. Pubes, calves, forearms, underarms. A fluffy patch
between his pecs dwindling to a nice treasure trail. Based on the pouch,
I'd say he was average-to-hung, with a long bar angling across to his right
hip, but not much in the balls department.

By this time, the roach was making its final round and the boo-yah was
starting to make itself known inside my skull. I stood (while I still
could), turned and flopped next to Jack on the couch. Not too close, but
enough to make him tremble some more. For reasons I can't even understand,
making him shake and causing his breath to catch stoked every ego-nerve I
had. He had passed the dwindling thing to me, but by shifting like I had he
ended up with a double-hit before he gave it to Ryan.

I looked to Billy and Dave who'd settled back onto the dining-style
chairs. Billy had lit up an actual cigarette. I hated those fucking
things. "So, you guys called us on the CYO thing. You go first. How's it
work in your world, guys?" Apparently, this was more of a shock to them
than the idea that we were just gonna fuck around with no preliminaries. I
filed that away in the back of my mind.

Being the English-Lit guy, I couldn't resist. "'The time has come,' the
Walrus said, 'to talk of many things: of shoes, and ships and sealing-wax;
of cabbages and kings; and why the sea is boiling hot and whether pigs have
wings.' Let's get down to why you asked us here. I mean, you seem to have
guessed parts of our story and I'll tell you," I caught Ryan's appalled and
betrayed gaze, "at least some of it. But you gotta go first."

"Part for part?" Jack was very relaxed. Not slurring, but certainly
enjoying the la-la.

"Done."

Jack was getting the talkies, and his brothers didn't seem to be
worried. Another interesting fact. "So, I was, what? just turned fifteen?
Billy and Dave had the other bedroom and I had my own. I come home early
one day, practice cancelled for some shit, and find Billy in *my* fucking
bed, passed out. He'd gotten into my stash. How did you find it, by the
way?"

"Dude, you put it on top of the dresser where you thought no one could see
it and I was taller than you! Duh!"

Giggle. "Oh, right. Anyway, this beanpole bastard had gotten into some
seriously-prime Hex-Mex I'd scored. Knock you on your ass, but not fore
making you so horny you'd fuck a goat. So I walk in and there he is, my
stash on the bed, one-hitter on the floor, shorts around his knees... and
his chest -- and my fucking bed! -- slimy enough to look like a Nickelodeon
set. I dragged him up and literally tossed him on his own bed, junk all
flapping around, him coming to just as he hits the bed, slime and
all. Hollered like a stuck pig. So's I slam the door and tighten my
doobage, getting it back up where it belonged and airing out the room fore
the rents came in. Fuck, it smelled like an herb-fire in a whorehouse!"

"Yeah, so I'm, like, completely fucking wasted. Can't see my own hands,
man. I had just hit my growth, you know, and went from five-five to six-six
in, like, a week. I was just a long sack of bones, no muscles or fat at
all, and that shit hit me like a fucking freight train. I didn't honestly
remember jacking one out until I bounced where the fucking ape threw me and
the sheets stuck to me! I was halfway to shitting myself and ran in and
pounded on his door begging."

"Yeah, he was telling me he was sorry and that he'd never jacked off before
and it was the weed and don't tell mom and don't tell coach and all that
shit. I yanked open my door and he literally fell in. I grabbed his throat
and said something like, 'Get in my shit again and I'll kill you,' pushed
him out and slammed the door again."

"What he actually said was, 'Get in my shit again and I'll cripple you,
knees first.' So I'm back in my bed, bawling, certain of death and/or
maiming when this obnoxious fucking little-boy voice says..."

"Christ, Billy, you smell like spooge." Dave picked up the tale. "The
stupid, stoned fuck hadn't even pulled his tee-shirt back over his
head. When he popped up off the bed, his whole upper body looked like
somebody sprayed him down with Elmer's Glue. He started to babble and I
couldn't take it. I just started to laugh so hard I nearly wet myself. So,
Billy here runs off to the john and locks himself in."

"So I hears the fuck knocking again and open the door to kill him and no
one is there. Until I look way, waaaaaaaay down--"

"Careful, Jack. Look at the level I punch."

"Um, uh, yeah, um, anyway. So there's Dave
who-wasn't-really-short-at-all-really, um, staring at me, this fierce look
on his face. He steps in and I step back. I mean, you've never seen him mad
before. 'What the fuck did you do to Billy?' he asks. 'Nuthin! He got into
my, um, he, uh...' I mean, how do you tell your twelve-year-old,
presumed-innocent brother (a) that you smoke pot, (b) that his brother
stole some, (c) what stoned-horny means and (d) that you'd caught Billy,
Dave's complete idol, stoned, mostly nekkid and covered in his own spunk?"

"So's I ask, 'Did you spooge on Billy?'... silence. I could see Jack's eyes
spinning. He hollers 'Hell no,' or something like it. I could smell the sex
and the weed. 'But he spooged in here? Why? What did you two do?' At that
point, I was more intrigued than anything else, but Jack thought I was
furious."

"Well, I start babbling just like Billy... and Dave just turned away. He
looked back and said, 'Get out here!' I got! He does something creepy with
his hands and the locked bathroom door pops open and there's Billy, shaking
like a leaf. 'Jack! Get Billy in your room. Now! Family Conference.' I
mean, he like had Dad Voice or some magic shit. I grabbed Billy by his
still hind-the-neck tee and dragged him in. Dave did something to lock the
door (the bedroom didn't have locks; Dad insisted)--"

"I spiked the jamb. You got two older brothers and a snoopy mom and you
want some 'quality alone time', or at least enough delay to get your junk
tucked into your pants, you learn these things. So, I turn around and put
my hands on my hips like I owned the joint. 'Billy!' He jumped. 'Did Jack
spooge on you?' He just shook his head and I said, 'Then why are you
covered in it, huh?'"

"Billy can't speak, so I jump in, trying for damage control. 'Dave, be
nice. Sometimes guys need a little relief. You'll understand when you're
older.' Oh shit. BIG mistake. Huge. 'You think I don't know that? With
Billy jacking off every fucking night and every fucking morning in the
other bed and you, you big deaf ox, grunting and fapping so loud on the
toilet that even DAD hears you? Yeah, I know what jerking off is, you
idiot.' I mean, I just stood there slack-jawed."

"And it's not just spooge reeking in here. 'Which of you has the weed?'
asks I."

"So I start pointing frantically to Jack in some sort of desperate attempt
to get off the subject of 'smell of ejaculated sperm, et al' and Dave turns
this seriously evil frown at me, 'Then why are you stoned out of your mind
and he's just normal-stupid? Huh?' Jack's mouth is working like a guppy and
I just... break."

"He spilled, like, everything, dude! No order. The jacking, the smoking,
the high, the stash, all of it. Dave standing there like the fucking wrath
of God in miniature -- sorry, sorry -- and trying to piece it together. He
yanks his head at me when Billy gets to the finding the stash part and I
sheepishly retrieve it. That when everything... clicked."

"I took one look at the stash, frowned Billy to silence and looked at
Jack. 'How the fuck do you know Mike Miller?' Nobody, I mean NO body else
in the Ozarks had Hex-Mex then. Suddenly it dawns on all three of us that
we were keeping the same secrets from each other. That's Part One, pretty
much."

"No way. How did you guys come to, you know, with each other."

"Nope. Your turn."

I sighed then smiled. "Fair enough. So Ryan's always been a prick to me," I
shush him, "and I've always been a jerk to him. That Arkansas Student
Legislature thing was the final straw. While they were gone, I decided
that, hell or high water, I was gonna have something on him when he got
back. I fucking ransacked his room." Ryan was looking at me in absolute
terror, petrified over what I might say, how a slip might destroy him or
both of us.

"He had the coolest thing he'd rigged in his desk. Took me like five hours
to find it. Inside was his stash -- by the way, Ryan, I forgot to ask about
that. I've never seen so many crystals in one bud. It looked like something
Jedi would smoke -- anyway, his stash and his porn. I was fucking over the
moon. I spent the rest of the day reassembling his room and plotting all
the ways I was going to shred the fucker, bit by nasty bit. Crush his nuts
just a *little* more each day until I felt I'd paid him back with
interest." I went silent looking at Ryan, his face still worried but he'd
caught the way I'd elided over the juice and the nature of the porn.

"And he got back... and I couldn't. I mean, I was gonna make the fucker my
walking slave. Do all my chores, everything, or risk me spilling his every
secret. And then, just as I was about to do it... I couldn't. I realized I
didn't want a slave. I... and you can laugh if you like... I wanted a
brother."

Ryan's voice was small, "And, well, I was ready for it in a way. I'd been
playing the bluff and bluster for, what, ten years? He showed me what he
found and it all, the whole sham, just... crumbled. I actually *asked* him
to destroy me. He's right, I'd been a real prick. Sure, he'd been the
quintessential jerkwad, but I knew it was up, and I just, well, gave
up. Like the Samurai, you know? I just put my neck all the way out and
waited for the katana to cut through. And... well, it never happened."

"And the sex?"

I put on my best, fake, brogue. "Ah, me boyo, that's a Part Two question, I
be a-thinking?"

<eof>

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