For the next two and a half weeks that magazine was very best friend. I spent a few days just laying naked in my bed slowly thumbing through the pages. The whole orgasm thing blew my mind every time. As soon as I came down from an ejaculation, my hand would return to my ever stiff dick and I would start over again.
The third or fourth day of my "(self) love-in" I got a picture I had of Berto in his speedo and placed it next to the magazine. As I would turn each page, I'd imagine what it would be like to see the big guy in the magazine on his knees burying his face in Berto's loins. I loved the idea of a hulking giant being totally subservient to my brother--and getting to watch it all happen. It was only a few more days until I had replaced the magazine guy with myself. Closing my eyes I would envision myself on my knees looking up at Berto's tight naked body and seeing my brother grinning down at me as I took his fat penis into my mouth. This took my masturbating to a whole new level. My the middle of week number three I couldn't wait for Berto to come home so I could tell him about my favorite new hobby.
The day that he was to come home, I woke up and performed my new morning ritual of slowly stroking my hard penis, almost torturing it, until I was about to come. Then I'd force myself to stop just as I was about to shoot. I could feel the liquid run back down my penis and into my balls. It wasn't easy to stop, but I knew how much better it would be when I eventually allowed myself to shoot later. I'd do that 2 or 3 times then jump in the shower where I'd start again and allow myself to finish as the streams of water fell onto my chest and ran down to my crotch. My legs would get all wobbly and I'd have to sit down in the tub for awhile until I could stand back up. (My parents must have noticed that my shower time had gone from 3 minutes to 30.)
That day, I dried off and went downstairs where my mother had breakfast waiting for me. She told me that we'd be leaving around noon to go get Berto at the church. Needless to say, the mention of Berto had my cock throbbing again in my small shorts. In the two hours before we left, I jacked off 4 or 5 more times. The time finally arrived and we drove the short distance to the church parking lot.
My mom and I waited for a few minutes talking about this and that, before the yellow bus pulled into the lot. I was out of the car in a flash. The anticipation of seeing Berto (the new object of my lust) had me shaking as I stood there watching the guys get off the bus. I finally saw him stepping down the stairs in his black shorts and white tank-top that read: "St. Anthony's Camp--Dover Falls, VT. I ran (RAN!) over to him and wrapped my arms around his body, holding him as tightly as I could. He dropped his duffel and returned my hug. You would have thought we had been apart for 3 years instead of 3 weeks.
"I missed you so much Berto. Soooo much...", I said as my heart pounded against his.
"You too Mondo", he returned, as he ended our hug with a little peck on the top of my head and reached down to grab his duffel. I grabbed his hand and we walked over to mom, who had stayed by the car. She hugged Berto and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. We got into the station wagon, mom and Berto in the front and me in the back. I sat on the edge of the seat and rested my chin on the top of the front seat so I could be nearer to my big brother. My nose was inches from his neck and I smelled something new on him, like he was wearing cologne or something. It smelled good--very manly.
When we got home, I followed him upstairs to his room and sat down on his bed as he started to unpack--really just dumping everything into his laundry basket. As the clothes dropped, a Polaroid fell out. Like a feather, it caught on the air and drifted to the ground by my feet. I bent down and picked it up. There was Berto sitting next to someone I didn't know. Both guys had their shirts off and the man had his arm around Berto, not in a gay way, just like you would pose for a photo.
"Who's this?", I asked him as he blushed.
"Oh, that's Chris. He was the counselor in our cabin", he replied somewhat hesitantly.
"He's so hairy like a bear or something. He's hairier than dad even", I noticed.
Berto seemed to be lost in his memories, then answered, "Yeah.....I guess he was."
I couldn't take my eyes off the Polaroid. It was almost like one of my fantasies had come to life. Berto's body looked so fine. His pecs looked thicker and tanner than before. What really caught my eye was the peak in his shorts--it wasn't obvious, but you could still see that he was excited. I was bringing it to my eyes for a closer look when Berto snatched it out of my hands. I tilted my head up to look at his face, and as my eyes passed over his shorts I swear I saw a similar peak. I quickly glanced up at his face and saw him engrossed in the photo, so I let my eyes wander back down his body to his shorts.
Time stood still as I stared into Berto's midsection. There it was, the object of my desire for the past 3 weeks right in front of my face. My hand slowly rose from the bed and started to move toward it....just inches to go...I could feel the warmth on my fingertips as I got closer......here it comes......almost......
"Mondo, what's wrong", I heard my brother ask.
My eyes opened and my hot fantasy abruptly ended. "Uh...nothing", was all I could say.
"You looked like you were in a trance bro. You sure you're OK?" Berto looked down at me sitting on the bed.
"Yeah. Tell me about camp", I said changing the subject.
Berto sat down next to me on his bed and told me about everything (well, almost everything) he did--day by day. All the usual stuff: swimming, canoeing, horseback riding, bomb fires, a party they had with the girls at the camp across the lake.
We spent the rest of the day at Gino's Pizzeria a few blocks from our house with some of his friends. The guys asked him if he "got any" at camp. At first I didn't know what they meant, but I figured it out when his friend Tony Sponelli started to brag about this girl he was ‘doing' in the city. Tony had this habit of making up stories and the other guys thought he was just bullshitting and gave him a pretty hard time. A couple of the others started talking about the girls they had fucked. I didn't know if even any of it was true, but I liked listening to them talk about sex. The testosterone in the booth was pretty strong that day.
Around 5PM, Berto and I said goodbye and started to walk home. It was so nice to have him back and to be able to just hang out with him. We got home and had dinner with mom and dad (even though we had just had pizza), and spent the rest of the warm summer night shooting hoops in the driveway. I beat him in the first game of 21 (I think he let me win). After that round, he took off his shirt and I was so distracted watching his sinewy body move around the court that he ended up destroying me 21-2 in the next three games. I gave up. He said he didn't want to go back in yet, so we played a couple rounds of HORSE and then sat out back and talked.
It had started getting dark when we went in around 9:30PM. We chilled on the couch watching TV for about an hour. I sat next to Berto and he put his arm around me. I always felt safe with his arm around me, not that I had anything to be afraid of...maybe content is a better word. Around 10:30PM my mom came in the den and said it was time for me to go to bed. I said OK and headed upstairs to my room. At this point I wasn't really horny--well, I was ALWAYS horny, but now it felt different-like the difference between lust and love.
I stripped to my underwear and laid in my bed thinking about Berto and how cool he was. My penis was hard under my briefs and I let my hand graze lightly over the small mound. A couple minutes later there was a quick knock on my door and it opened. I removed my hand very fast and put it behind my head with my other.
Berto walked in with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.
"Hey Mondo, I'm gonna jump in the shower. You need to use the bathroom before?", Berto asked me. We only had one bathroom in our house so we always asked before we would take it over for a half hour or whatever.
"Nah, I'm good. Thanks though", I said wondering if Berto had noticed the erection in my shorts.
"OK bro. Sleep well", he said as he walked out and closed my door.
I lay in my bed a little disappointed that he didn't offer to "do me" right then, but the fact that I got to see him in just a towel made up for it. I noticed that he had more than 5 hairs on his chest, as I had thought. His chest was actually pretty well covered with a dusting of little black hairs. It seemed like he got sexier by the hour, but it could have just been me.
I heard the shower start up and, laying there picturing what was going on in the bathroom, I pulled my underwear down and started stroking. It took only seconds as it had been building up since that morning. I cleaned up and then lay back down. I had to pee so bad, you know, like you have to after you come. I thought about waiting until Berto was finished, but then said "fuck it" and walked down the hall to the bathroom.
I knocked on the door and walked in. I saw Berto's wet head peak out from behind the opaque shower curtain.
"Sorry Berto. I thought I could hold it", I said and walked over to the toilet.
"No problem. Just don't flush. I don't want to get burned". I started to pee, letting out a big sigh of relief as the fluid pushed its way out of my still sensitive penis. I finished and started to leave, saying "good night" to Berto.
"Hey Mondo, don't go. Stay here and talk to me until I'm done". (Did I hear that right??)
I, of course, said "sure" and sat down on the counter. Even though I couldn't see him through the shower curtain it was thrilling just knowing that he was naked a few feet from me. He told me more camp stories and asked me what I did while he was gone. I said "nothing", deciding to tell him about my new favorite activity later when I could see his face.
The water turned off and I saw his arm reach from behind the curtain and grab the towel. I prayed that he'd open the curtain as he dried off, but when it pulled back he already had the towel wrapped around his waist. My erection was more than obvious and I made sure to make it visible to him as he walked over to the counter and started combing his hair in the mirror. I think I saw him glance at it a couple times as he was combing his hair.
"I'm glad you're back home Berto".
He looked over at me smiling. "Me too. I missed my little bro". He put his hand on my thigh and squeezed as he said that. A tingling ran up and down my body as he touched me with his warm moist hand.
"Well, I'm beat. I've gotta get some sleep", he said. Then he leaned over and kissed my cheek saying "good night" like he did every night. Although, that night it took on a whole new meaning for me. He went into his room and closed the door as I did the same in my room. I knew I wasn't going to get any sleep until I came a few more times. I laid on my stomach and rubbed my hard little pole against a towel I had spread out on my bed (that was my second favorite position). When I felt like I was going to come, I got up on my knees (my favorite position) and shot my load onto the towel. The whole time I reveled in the images of Berto going through my mind.
I did that twice more, starting back up just a few seconds after I came. By my third orgasm (actually my fourth that night) my cum consisted of just a few drops. Even so, the pleasure was the same. I threw the towel on the floor and laid down to sleep.
An hour later, I was still awake and still hard. I couldn't get Berto out of my mind and my horniness was almost too much to handle. I tried to get up the courage to go down the hall to Berto's room and just ask him to have sex, but I couldn't do it. I must have laid there for another hour before I turned off my brain and let my cock do the thinking--it seemed like the smarter of the two anyway.
I walked out into the hallway which was completely dark except for a streetlight that came in through the window at the end. I could see that Berto's light was off and my cock thought that maybe if I woke him up and asked him he'd be in that sleepy daze and just say yes. At the time I thought that was my greatest plan EVER.
Tiptoeing down the hall I approached Berto's door. I grabbed the handle, moving in slow motion, and turned it. With the light from outside, I could see him laying on his back naked, except for a sheet that covered him from the waist down. As I approached the side of his bed, I saw that he had an erection too. I gingerly pulled the sheet down to his knees and admired his luscious body. I held my briefs down with my thumb and started to jack off as my eyes ran up and down him. It was the hottest thing I had ever done (up to that point) and it's one of those feelings that I'll never forget.
I stroked slowly at first wanting to make this last as long as possible. He started to stir and I froze. He flipped around a bit and ended up right back where he started. I went back to my stroking and gradually increased my speed as I was never able to hold back for very long. I felt my legs start to shake, then my arms as this rush swept over my entire body. I could feel my orgasm rapidly building in my balls. I bit my lip to stay quiet as my cock began to spew my seed onto Berto's chest and stomach and the bed. I think I may have blacked out for a second or two as my brain was overwhelmed by all of its pleasure neurons firing at once.
When I had finished I just stood there completely still except for my hand rubbing my wet penis skin back and forth stimulating the sensitive head as long as I could. I walked over to Berto's dresser and grabbed a t-shirt sitting on top. I tiptoed back to the bed and wiped the cum off of his body, softly so as not to wake him (my brain had taken over by this point and it told me not to wake him up). I pulled my underwear back up and took one last long look at him.
All at once his head rolled over and his eyes opened, looking directly at mine!! I still had the cum soaked t-shirt in my hand and immediately put it behind my back.
"Mondo?", I heard from below me in a soft, scratchy, only half-awake voice. All I could do was force out a grunt that sounded like "yeah?".
His eyes opened a little wider as he gradually woke up and he asked, "What's wrong?". His hand reached out and grabbed the back of my thigh kind of caressing it.
In shock, I quickly thought up something to say.
Putting on my best puppy-dog face I said, "Ummm, I had a bad dream and I was wondering if.... if maybe I could sleep in your bed?". God I was brilliant! We had done this before when I had actually had a bad dream.
"Of course little bro", he said as he patted the empty space next to him.
I walked over to the far side of the bed and crawled in next to him. His arm wrapped around my shoulders and he pulled me close, resting my head on his chest. His other arm reached down and pulled the sheet up over us both. That feeling of contentment filled me again and I drifted off to sleep.
There is a little more....