Date: Wed, 22 Aug 2007 15:29:25 +0200
From: God of the Gaps <godofthegaps@googlemail.com>
Subject: Jake and Lee

Sometimes you just end up surprised by what life throws at you.
You think you're headed in one direction and you end up taking a totally
different one. I think we were both a bit shocked when I gave my brother
a call and suggested we get a place together. He was living in Asheville,
North Carolina, and I was about to head there to go to school, so it just
made sense. I'd taken a couple of years to go traveling after high school,
because I didn't know what the fuck to do with myself, and I figured why
waste our parents' money? Better to figure shit out before I head to
school. Anyway, after all that freedom and independence, the thought of
living in a dorm and doing the regular college thing wasn't that
appealing. So, even though it wasn't my first choice of schools, that fact
that my brother lived there and we could have a place together made
Asheville move to the top of the list.
	Lee was only my half-brother actually, which is the reason we
don't actually look that much alike. We had the same mom, but Lee's dad
died when he was just a baby, and then Mom remarried and had me a few
years later. Lee was about 5'9", with longish brown hair and the same
brown eyes I had, and an average build -- not super-muscular, but not fat
at all (although in winter he does get a tiny belly). Lee's always been the
artsy type, I guess you'd say.
I actually didn't know him that well. When he was 12, he went off
to this weirdo boarding school, so from the time when I was 8 onwards, I
only saw him at holidays and whatever parts of the summers we weren't
off at summer camp. Plus at that age, 4 years can seem like a lot.
So when I rang him up and made my suggestion, I think he
probably said yes more out of shock than any real desire to share his
house with me.


When Jake called me and suggested we share a flat while he went
to school, I said yes before I even had a chance to think about it. I barely
knew the guy, to be honest, and after I hung up the phone I had serious
regrets. As far as I could tell, Jake was kind of jockish (if you count
Ultimate Frisbee as a sport, which he does), and just as different from me
as could be. If he was a stranger, there's no way I would've opened my
house to him. But I had this little voice saying, He's your brother and
suddenly I was agreeing to let him come stay in my place.
I worried for two months before he got there, and almost picked up
the phone a dozen times to call the whole thing off. But I knew he'd
already enrolled at the university and there was no good reason I could
give to back out on the deal now.
So finally he arrived, mid-August. I'd actually barely seen him in
two years; he'd been off having adventures around the world. I know he
spent something like six months in India and Nepal, and did a stint in
Africa, besides the usual European backpacking thing. He looked
different than I remembered, showing up on my doorstep with nothing
but a big backpack which he looked so comfortable wearing it might as
well have been part of him. He was taller than me by at least four or five
inches, and his dad's Italian genes showed; I may only be able to grow a
bit of scrappy scruff on my face, but Jake always sported a five o'clock
shadow, even right after he shaved. He had thick black eyebrows that met
in the middle. He was more skinny than muscular -- ultimate frisbee's not
rugby, after all -- but his shoulders had a nice broadness and his arms
wore beautiful definition. I could see a few black hairs poking out the
color of his t-shirt, and his arms, a bit sweaty in the August heat, were
covered in dark hair as well. He grinned.
"Yo," he said.
"Yo." I gave him an awkward hug. "Come on in." He smelled
great; musky and manly and sweaty. I was confused that I'd noticed at
all -- and even more confused that it turned me on. He was my brother.


Lee was shy when he let me into the place, which is weird because
he's just not a shy guy. A freak, maybe, but not shy. He looked pretty
much like a I remembered, with that longish brown hair that kept getting
in his eyes, and a sweet lopsided smile. He gave me a weird sort of back-
patting hug and led me inside, showing me my room, and his, and where
everything was. I noticed he had more tatts than last time I saw him, on
his legs and arms. I found myself wondering where else he had tattoos,
and what they were.
That night Lee hosted a dinner party at our house, to introduce me
to his friends. They were the kinds of hippies and weirdoes I'd expect:
everyone was an artist or a writer or a DJ or a musician. One chick was a
massage therapist. Another built houses using straw bales and mud. I
liked them well enough; I think Lee thought I'd be shocked at them or
something. I had this idea that he thought I was totally mainstream and
normal, but I'm not really. You travel as much as I have, you see lots of
different shit. You get to respect all the differences in people. At least all
his friends were interesting. They did shit they cared about. I had to
respect that, especially because I was mostly just drifting. I knew I liked
traveling, exotic foods, ultimate, and outdoor shit like camping and
hiking and biking. As to what I wanted to do with my life, I had no idea.
Anyway, the whole time I kept trying to figure out if Lee was
dating any of the chicks. It was hard to say because everyone was
affectionate with everyone else. People were always putting their arms
around each other or kissing on the cheek, and it didn't seem to mean
they were couples. I watched them all for anything beyond that, but there
didn't seem to be any signs I could see.
There was nothing for it but to ask. I didn't mean anything by it,
really; I just wanted to start getting to know Lee better.
"So, you dating any of those girls?" I asked Lee, as we were
cleaning the last few dishes, after everyone had left.
He stopped scrubbing and looked at me quizzically. "Dude, how
obvious can it be? I'm not straight." He smiled bemusedly and went back
to cleaning the dishes, shaking his head a little.
I kicked myself internally. How obvious?! I wanted to say. It
wasn't obvious at all. Lee was kind of universally sweet with everyone. I
tried to think if there'd been signs. He wasn't especially faggy. Freaky,
arty, weird, maybe, but he had a masculine voice, wasn't prissy, and
didn't make it obvious at all!
Still, I should have known better than to make that assumption, that
he was straight. I hate it, after all, when people make it about me.


My heart pounded after I came out to Jake. I told him casually,
while we were washing dishes, but I was secretly terrified that he'd freak
out or something. I didn't know the guy, after all. Still, I wasn't about to
go around hiding part of my life from him; as if that would work now that
we were sharing a place. Either he was going to be cool with it or he
wasn't.
The whole issue was kind of academic, anyway. Asheville's kind
of a fishbowl and I was pretty much over the unconnected sex I'd been
having. I liked everything else about my life there -- my place, my
friends, my "job" (if you could call it that, since making art for a living
feels more like play) -- everything except my love life, which at the
moment was more or less nonexistent.
Jake didn't say much after that, just helped me finish the dishes
and then told me he was beat after the long day, and he was going to
crash. I shrugged and wished him a good night. I heard him take a
shower, while I hung out in the living room and read, and saw him
emerge from the bathroom with a towel around his waist, still dripping a
bit, his black hair plastered to his forehead. He had a nice hairy chest,
making him seem more defined than he probably actually was, with hair
around his nipples and across his chest forming a kind of horizontal line,
and then another line started at the base of his neck and went straight
down past his belly, disappearing behind the towel.
It was just a glimpse but after his door closed behind him I looked
down. I was hard as a rock.
What the fuck, said the voice inside me. He's your brother.
Half-brother, I told myself, as if it made a difference.


I couldn't stop thinking about it after Lee told me he was queer,
too. I found myself wondering what kinds of guys he liked, what he liked
to do. Would we be competing for guys? Probably not -- we looked
different enough that most guys would go for only one or the other of us,
unless they had really broad taste. I also wondered if queerness was a
genetic thing or something else. Was it just a coincidence that we were
both queer?
After my shower I lay in my bed in my unfamiliar room, staring at
the ceiling, and found myself wondering: Did Lee know I liked guys,
too? I thought it was obvious, but maybe it wasn't. He didn't act like it
was, when he told me. I thought back. I hadn't dated that many people in
the last few years -- mostly I just had short-lived flings with people I met
while traveling. I dated girls in high school, and still did occasionally,
depending on my mood. Sometimes I wanted a pair of tits in my hands,
sometimes I wanted to curl up with the hard body of another guy. What
can I say? I guess I'm as confused about who I want to be with as what I
want to do with my life.
That got me thinking: Who did I want to be with? I found myself
thinking really hippy dippy bullshit like: someone who really digs me,
who likes doing the things I like to do, in and out of bed (but especially
in). It was only after a while that I realized I hadn't once thought of
specifics like how someone looked.
I'm so enlightened, I told myself, laughing at myself, and then
finally I went to sleep.


Jake was there a few weeks before school. He wanted to get settled
in before school started, he'd said, and I couldn't blame him. After two
years living out of a backpack, having a place and being settled would be
quite an adjustment.
It went pretty smoothly, though. Jake was there a lot, but I spent a
lot of time back in my studio -- basically a shed in the backyard. We
didn't avoid each other, but he was also really into just kind of making
his own life in Asheville, so we only hung out a bit.
I found, though, I couldn't stop thinking about him. One afternoon
I took a break from painting and found Jake in the backyard, watering the
little garden I had back there.
"Hey bro, wanna toss around a  Frisbee? Feel like I'm getting
rusty."
I shrugged. "I'm not all that good at it," I told him.
"Whatever, come on."
"Alright."
He picked up the Frisbee and didn't seem to mind when
occasionally my throws went far astray. In fact, he seemed to enjoy
running and leaping or diving for it, and eventually he took off his shirt,
the curly dark hairs on his chest wet with sweat.
He was beautiful.
When he went inside to make us some iced tea, I found myself
wandering over to where he'd tossed his t-shirt on the grass. I picked it up
and lifted it to my nose, not really thinking about what I was doing.
It smelled amazing. My brother may have thought of me as a
hippy, but he was the one not wearing deodorant.


I hadn't thought much about both of us being queer until the day
we played Frisbee for a while in the backyard. It was hot, the first week
of September, and I'd taken off my shirt. That's the thing about being a
little hairy -- you get hot that much quicker. I shaved it all off once, but it
was weird. I felt kind of...naked. I guess I liked having it, even if it made
me warmer in the summer.
I went inside to make us some iced tea, and I was filling the water
cooker at the sink when I glanced out at Lee.
He had my t-shirt in his hands. He was sniffing it.
I knew that t-shirt was ripe. The thing was, he didn't seem to think
it was gross or anything. As far as I could tell, he liked it.
My head didn't know what to do with that information, so I just
pushed those thoughts away. When I was coming back outside, I made
sure to make a lot of noise as I was opening the door. When I looked up,
Lee was lounging in the hammock and my t-shirt was on the ground
again.


I was so horny the next day, after sniffing Jake's sweaty t-shirt,
that I actually went cruising online. I had the luxury of a little time to
myself, since that day was registration for classes at Jake's university.
I didn't want anything too involved. I just was totally blue-balled
from smelling Jake's manly shirt that I wanted to get off. I invited this
supposedly straight guy over for a no-strings blowjob. It wasn't supposed
to be especially great sex or anything. I just wanted to get off, not to get
to know the guy or anything, and a cock in my mouth was sure to be a
good distraction from my thoughts about my brother.
It was, in the end, exactly what I wanted. The guy was nervous but
horny. He came in, and I knelt before him and pressed my face to his fly.
He was already hard, I could feel his dick throbbing through the jeans. He
unzipped and whipped it out. It was a nice thick little rod, nothing special
but nothing to be ashamed about. I was a bit bummed because he
trimmed his pubes -- I know I'm weird, but I like a full bush. But he
moaned when I wrapped my lips around his dick and I could tell it had
been a while since he got truly great head.
After a few minutes he grabbed my head and really got into it,
pushing me up and down on his cock, and eventually he backed me up
against the wall and just fucked my face, moaning and gasping.
When he squirted his load on my chest, I shot too, so far it hit the
living room armchair a few feet away. The guy zipped up, thanked me,
and took off, and I cleaned myself (and the armchair) up, feeling loads
better.


Registration took about an hour. I was surprised, because I thought
it would be more complicated, with longer lines and so on. But it turned
out a lot of people registered online (I didn't know you could do that) so
doing it on the day was pretty easy and quick.
Thus I got home a few hours before I expected to. When I pulled
up on my motorcycle (nothing fancy, just a cheap way to get around
town) there was an unfamiliar car in the driveway.
Bemused, I got off the bike and walked up to the house and on a
whim I glanced through the living room window before I went to the
front door.
I froze. Lee was there, on his knees and some strange guy was
fucking the hell out of his face, really pounding it, so his balls were
slapping Lee's chin, over and over. I could even hear the guy through the
window, moaning and saying, "Yeah, oh yeah." At first I almost ran in,
thinking this was a fling that got out of control or something like that, but
then I noticed something else:
Lee was jacking off. He had his cock in his hand and was pounding
it as furiously as the guy was pounding his face.
He liked it. Holy shit, he liked it.
I couldn't tear my eyes off the scene. The guy finally shot his load,
pulling his cock out of Lee's mouth just before, spraying it all over Lee's
bare chest and belly -- which sported a hot tattoo, making me realize that I
hadn't yet seen Lee with his shirt off. As he came, Lee did too, spraying
all over the floor in front of him. He came a lot. It looked like he'd been
saving it up for days.
	I dashed around the corner of the house as the guy came out the
door. He didn't see me, just got into his car and drove off.
	I felt intensely confused. There was a part of me that felt strangely
protective. When we were kids, Lee was the one to take care of me, and
now I felt a powerful urge to return the favor, to wrap my arms around
him and tell him I'd protect him. I was the younger brother, sure, but
these days I was the bigger one.
	So there was that feeling, and then there was another: My cock was
throbbing in my pants. Watching that guy fuck Lee's mouth had made me
jealous and protective. But watching Lee get off on it had really turned
me on.


	I thought that when Jake's classes started I could chill out thinking
about him, but it was exactly the opposite; I found him on my mind all
day, and more than once I ended up snooping around his room for a
sweaty t-shirt. When I found one, I'd lie down on his bed and have a nice
jack. Afterwards I could get back to painting; business was good and I
had a bunch of commissions.
	The day things changed significantly was in October. The weather
was just starting to cool off, and I decided to take a break from painting
to schlep some wood from the cords stacked next to my studio into the
house. Ironically, I was a bit lazy and probably carried a bit more in each
load than I should have, and by the evening my back was really sore. I
was just laying on the floor (more comfortable than the couch, in my
current state) watching tv when Jake came home.
	"What's up with you?" he asked.
	"Hurt my back stacking wood," I said. "Nothing serious, just
chilling."
	"Want a massage?" he asked. "I picked up a few tricks in
Thailand."
	I almost said no. The thought of my brother's big hands on my
body was too sexy, too much of a turn-on. But then I thought about trying
to explain my refusal. I'll just keep those thoughts under wraps, I
resolved. Besides, my back really was sore, and could use the attention.
"Alright," I agreed.


	I offered the massage with bated breath. I knew nothing could
happen between me and Lee, but I couldn't explain it. I just wanted to be
close to him, to take care of him. I wanted to touch him.
	He took off his shirt, and lay on his belly, his smooth back
gleaming in the late afternoon sun. I went over to him, straddling him on
my knees, and gently laid my hands on his shoulders. He shivered a little
beneath them.
	I was hard, my cock straining at my pants. I kept my crotch off his
back, so Lee wouldn't be able to tell. Slowly, I started to rub his tender
back. I gently pushed aside his hair and squeezed the back of his neck. He
groaned. "Shit, that's sore," he said. I responded by gently grabbing his
hair in both my hands and pulling on it gently, and massaging his scalp.
Meanwhile, I leaned down over him and gently bit the back of his neck.
	He groaned. "Wow," he said. My dick twitched and struggled
inside my pants, which felt way too tight.
	It was a weird, intense moment, so I backed off and went back to
massaging his back with my fingers, squeezing his arms and working my
way down to his hands. They were so different from mine; a little softer,
with shorter fingers, but with a deftness to them; artist's fingers, I guess.
Mine by contrast felt thicker, more calloused, and of course the dark hair
on them made them seem coarser somehow. I liked his a lot better.
	I worked my way down his body, sort of skipping over his ass -- 
even though, or perhaps because I wanted to pay attention to it -- and
worked down his legs. He had thick, solid legs, I could feel through his
pants, and muscular calves. His feet were beautiful, wide, with a light
dusting of hair on their tops -- nothing like mine, of course. I rubbed his
feet and he groaned again.
	It was nearly an hour before I finished. I didn't want to take my
hands off his body, to be honest, but I couldn't think of anything else to
do. Or, rather, I could think of lots of other things to do, but nothing I
ought to do.
	"Wow, Jake, that was amazing," he said, stirring, and then rolling
over onto his side. "Okay," he continued brightly. "Your turn."
	"You're the one with the sore back!" I said, in protest, but really
just trying to distract him from the tent in my pants, which showed no
sign of abating.
	"Not anymore," he said. "Come on, come on, lie down, before I
take back my offer."
	I did.


	Jake took off his shirt, and I drank in the sight of that beautiful
chest, with the cross of dark hair, and the dark shadow of hair poking
from his pits, source of that delicious scent I'd been drinking in for the
past hour as he worked on me.
	He lay down where I'd been, on the floor, on his belly, and I
started massaging him. He was a lot more muscular than me, so I really
had to lean into him. "I liked it when you bit my neck," I told him. "That
something you picked up in Thailand?"
	"Sure," he replied, a bit awkwardly. "They kind of use their whole
bodies to massage you, there."
	"Really?" I asked, rubbing his shoulders, then working my way
down his right arm, leaning into it as an excuse to dip my nose close to
his armpit and inhale deeply. It smelled amazing. His arm was beautiful,
defined, and as my fingers brushed lightly at the dark hair dusting his
arms, my already rock-hard cock leaked pre-cum. I worked my fingers
down his solid forearm to his beautiful hands, with their thick square-ish
fingers, also dusted with hair, and his sexy calloused palms. He moaned
quietly as I really dug my thumbs into his palm, then squeezed and
tugged his fingers.
	Then I put his finger in my mouth, sucking on it, hard, using my
teeth a little bit. "Whoa!" he cried out, trying to tug his hand free.
	"Hey, chill," I told him. "Am I hurting you?"
	"No," he admitted.
	"Then just relax. I'm trying something here."
	I think he wanted to protest some more and I knew what I was
doing was weird, but he'd opened the door with that neck-biting move,
and I couldn't resist. One by one, I sucked on each of his fingers, lightly
biting it, and feeling my cock flopping around inside my pants, especially
when I put all four of his fingers in my mouth, thrusting them deep down,
really sucking on them. It felt invasive and weird and incredibly sexy.
	Jake lay there and let me do it. I couldn't believe it.
	I went back to working on his body after that, working my way
down to his legs and his sexy feet, which were a lot bigger (if narrower)
than mine, and much hairier, like the rest of him. I used my mouth on his
feet too, as if this were some legit massage technique I'd picked up
somewhere, sucking on his toes and using my teeth to really dig into the
soles of his feet. It wasn't as exciting as when I had his fingers in my
mouth, but I still couldn't believe he was letting me do it, and that by
itself was a huge turn-on.
	"Alright," I said, when I was done with his feet. "Turn over."
	"What?" he asked.
	"Turn over, I just want to do your face and chest and stuff."
	"Why, I didn't do that for you."
	"Whatever," I replied. "Come on, just turn over." I gave him a
shove, and forced him to roll over onto his back.
	I immediately saw why he'd been reluctant to flip over. His pants
were stretched tight over his cock. He was rock hard, and there was a
large wet spot where precum had been soaking into the fabric.
	"Sorry," he said. "The hand thing..."
	I was speechless. This whole time I thought I'd been taking
advantage of my brother somehow. I'd been guiltily getting off on Jake's
beauty, and here he was, hard. He liked it, too.
	He was straight, though. Wasn't he? And even if he wasn't, he was
my brother.
	I decided to act casual about it. It seemed like he hadn't noticed
that I was hard, too. Maybe he was just too embarrassed about his own
reaction. "Whatever," I said. "Don't worry about it. It happens."
	I scooted around behind his head, and started working on his scalp.
I gently worked my fingers through his dark hair, and then went on to
stroking those thick eyebrows and the little tufts of hair that sprouted on
the tuft of his nose. If he was gay, he'd probably pluck those, right? Gay
guys are always so well-groomed; it's one of the things I don't like about
a lot of them. I like a guy with a few rough edges.
	He closed his eyes and I ran my fingers over the lids, and then
down onto his stubbly cheeks. He hadn't shaved for a couple days and
there was a thick dark growth covering the entire lower half of his face. It
felt amazing, touching his face, electric. Then he shocked me by opening
his eyes, those warm brown eyes that were exactly like mine, proof that
we were brothers after all, despite everything else about us being
different. "You like that, don't you?" he asked.
	Helplessly, I nodded.
	He didn't look away. "I like it too," he said, after a moment. And
then suddenly he reached up with his long arms, wrapped his hands
around my neck and tugged me roughly down, so that my face, upside
down, was just above his. Then he leaned his face up and kissed me.
	He thrust his tongue into my mouth, the stubbly skin around his
lips scratching me painfully, amazingly raw, and I moaned involuntarily.
I couldn't believe it was happening.
	He moaned too.
	Wait, I wanted to say. What are we doing? But I couldn't stop. It
felt too powerful, unstoppable. His scent filled my nostrils, and his
tongue explored my mouth and all thought flew from my head.


	I couldn't stand it any longer. He'd seen I was hard. I could see the
tent his own cock was making of his pants. Why wasn't he doing
anything about it? Instead he was stroking my face, and although it felt
great, it wasn't what I wanted, nor I thought, what he wanted.
	"You like that, don't you?" I asked him.
	He nodded, his face looking confused, embarrassed, maybe a little
scared.
	"I like it, too," I told him, and it was like a revelation. I realized he
hadn't figured it out. I liked that he was turned on by me. I liked him.
	I reached up and tugged him down to me. I wanted to take care of
him, to make him feel good and loved.
	I also wanted to use him. I thought of the guy fucking his face, and
I thrust my tongue in and out of his mouth. He moaned, and I was so
turned on I felt a groan escape me, too.
	He tasted a little salty, a little sweet, and the feel of his sweet
mouth on mine drove me wild. Suddenly I shoved his face away, feeling
as wild as an animal, and I sat up, turning around, so I was on my knees
facing him. Grabbing his waist I tugged him towards me, so he was
straddling me, his ass pressing down on my cock, and I grabbed his head
and made him kiss me some more. He writhed a little, resisting maybe or
maybe just pretending to, but I held him there, kissing him, my cock tap-
tap-tapping at his ass, through both our pants. I pressed him close to me
so that my chest rubbed against his, and then when I was sure he wasn't
going to freak out or back away, I lifted my arms over my head and let
him worship me.
	I'd seen him sniffing my shirts. I knew he liked the way I smelled.
And I knew I was ripe, I could smell myself.
	It was amazing how wild he got, thrusting his nose into my pits,
rubbing his face on my hairy chest. Every once in a while he'd look up
into my face, as if asking me for permission. I grinned, winked, and
nodded.
	It was alright by me. More than alright. It was amazing.
	He groaned, curling into my chest his arms pressing at my back,
his tongue flicking out to my nipples, then my armpits. I wrapped my
arms around him, squeezing him tight.
	"I saw you that day, you know. Registration day. You had that guy
over. He fucked the hell out of your face."
	He froze, tensed up. I squeezed him a little harder, not giving him a
chance to move, to freak out.
	"It was weird," I said.
	"I know, I know, I'm weird," he said, his voice muffled against my
chest. I liked the feeling of the vibration of his voice, nice and deep,
against my skin.
	"No, that's not what I mean," I said, a bit sternly, my tone hinting
that he ought to shut up and listen to me for a minute. "I mean it was
weird because... because I was jealous. I wanted to take care of you then.
To protect you."
	He tried to push away but I didn't let him. I guess if he'd really put
his full strength into it we'd be more of a match in strength, but at the
moment I wasn't giving him much leeway. I had some stuff I needed to
say and he needed to listen. "Come on," he complained. "I didn't need
protection."
	"I know," I told him. "That's why it was weird. Part of me wanted
to wrap my arms around you, make you feel safe and take care of you.
But at the same time I saw you were really getting off on the way he was
treating you. And...and I wanted to..."
	He curled, still frozen, his nose in my pit, and I found I couldn't
say anymore, so I reached down and grabbed his chin, pushing his face
back so I could look into his eyes.
	Then I kissed him. I couldn't read what I saw in his gaze, not for
sure, but his mouth told a different story. He was hungry for me.
	I grabbed his hair in my fist and then I stood up in front of him,
holding his head away from my crotch. Slowly, I unbuttoned my pants
with my other hand, watching him. He couldn't tear his gaze away from
my fly. I reached inside and then I pulled out my dick.
	He moaned and tried to lean forward, to sniff it or taste it I don't
know. I held him back, taking a moment to reach past it and scoop out my
balls, letting them dangle outside my pants. A drop of clear pre-cum
drooled from the tip of my dick.


	I couldn't believe it was happening, when he stood up in front of
me and started unbuttoning his fly. I wanted it so bad I couldn't say
anything. I was scared I'd freak him out or something.
	But when he pulled out his beautiful long cock, the mushroom
head slick with pre-cum, and long tendril of the stuff hanging from the
end of his dick, I couldn't help myself, I leaned forward to taste it. I could
smell the musky yeasty scent of his balls and it drove me wild.
	He had his fist in my hair, though, and he held me back, torturing
me while he slowly -- painfully slowly -- reached into his fly and gently
pulled out his balls. The were covered in dark hair, and his long curly
bush poked out around his cock through his fly.
	"You want that, don't you?" he asked. I looked up at him and
nodded.
	"Pull out your cock," he said. "If it's hard, I'll let you taste."
	I couldn't open my zipper fast enough. My dick had been hard for
more than an hour now. I yanked it out and it stuck straight up.
	Jake looked down at it. "Nice," he said, even though my dick
wasn't huge, was pretty much average. He lucked out in that department
genetically, since although his dick was by no means gigantic, it was
definitely bigger than mine, with a nice round mushroom head and a
reasonably thick shaft I knew would feel amazing sliding between my
lips.
	Slowly, he let me lean forward until his dick was just in front of
my face. There, he held me, and I found myself sticking my tongue out as
far as it would go, to try to catch a drop of that precum.
	He took his dick and wiped the tip of it gently on my tongue. "You
like that?" he asked.
	I licked it hungrily in answer. He grinned. "Want more?"
	"Yeah," I said, trying not to beg.
	Slowly, he pushed his cock forward until it rubbing my lips, and
then he poked it between them. I sucked hungrily at it, and he moaned
and very slowly pushed it further and further, letting it slide right down
into my throat.
	"Oh yeah, Lee. Fuck you're good at that," he said. "You like that?
Really?" I couldn't nod or speak, so all I could do was moan. The feeling
of his cock head filling my throat was like ecstasy.
	"Hold it there," he commanded, as my eyes watered a little. He
thrust it gently in and out of my throat, and then before I gagged, he slid
it back out. "Fuck, that feels amazing," he said, and my insides went all
warm at the praise.
	"More," I said.
	"Gladly." He leaned in again, sliding his dick in and out of my
mouth, at first gently and then harder and harder, faster and faster.
Periodically, he pushed it in so my nose was nestled in his thick bush, and
I extended my tongue past the shaft filling my mouth to lick at his big
hairy balls. "Fuck yeah!" he cried, and then pulled his cock free of my
mouth, grabbing his balls in a loop of his thumb and forefinger.
	"Open up," he commanded, and when I did, he stuffed first one
then both of his balls into my hungry mouth. They filled it up completely,
and my nose was saturated with that delicious scent. "Oh yeah, suck
them," he moaned, and I found I was jacking furiously, my mouth filled
with my brother's heavy, hairy balls.
	He pulled them free then and fucked my face in earnest. "You want
me to come?" he asked. "Want me to shoot my load all over you?"
	No, I tried to say, tried to shake my head. It was hard, while he was
fucking my face, his balls slamming into my chin, but I think he got the
message.
	"What?" he said, pulling out for a minute, so his stiff dick was just
an inch in front of my lips, pointing right at them.
	"Not on me," I gasped. "I want to taste it."
	"Fuck!" he cried, thrusting his dick into my mouth again. "You
want me to shoot in your mouth? You want it? You want it?" He was
pounding my face now, his cock popping in and out of my throat,
pistoning my mouth. "Fuck, Lee, fuck, that's right, that's right. You want
my cum? You want it? Here it comes, bro. Here it comes. Oh yeah oh
yeah oh fuuuuck!"
	I gulped at it as his cock seemed to explode in my mouth, twitching
powerfully and shooting squirt after squirt at the back of my throat. At
the same time I moaned as my own cock echoed his, spraying cum all
over his feet.


	I had major butterflies in my stomach and my heart pounded as Lee
sucked my dick. I couldn't believe it was happening, this fantasy I hadn't
even really allowed myself but obviously had been percolating at the
back of my mind this whole time.
	I fucked his face and it felt amazing.
	The best part was that he obviously really, really liked it. He
couldn't get enough of it. He was almost begging for more.
	I held off as long as I could, but when he told me he wanted me to
shoot in his mouth, it turned me on so much that I couldn't last much
longer. I finally just let go, shooting down his throat. It felt like my dick
just kept squirting and squirting, and at the same time I felt the hot splash
of Lee's cum on my bare feet.
	I stood there, gasping, leaning on the wall behind Lee, feeling my
dick going soft in his mouth as he sucked every last drop out of it, and
then I pulled it out and looked at him. He looked excited but also scared,
as if worried what might happen now that we weren't blinded by clouds
of hormones.
	I felt all warm inside, and my heart still fluttered in my chest,
seeing him look at me that way, at once hopeful and terrified. "Come
here," I said softly, holding out a hand to him. He took it, and I pulled
him to his feet, and then softly wrapped my arms around him, holding
him close, feeling his chest rubbing against mine, smelling him now, too,
his scent blending with mine. I reached down to his chin and tilted his
face up and kissed him, gently this time, feeling him melting against me
at my touch, feeling his own heart pounding against mine.
	"You're beautiful," he told me.
	"You make me feel beautiful," I said, because it was true. I didn't
think I was ugly, but I was hardly a model. I felt too hairy and scrappy for
the gay world. I had big bushy eyebrows, almost a unibrow, and I just
couldn't seem to fit into the boxes the guys I'd dated before seemed to
want me in. But Lee...well, he liked everything about me, I could tell.
The way his fingers had stroked my eyebrows, the way he drank in my
scent, how he devoured my cock.
	And he was beautiful, too. His face was cute and I loved the way
everything he felt was just written across it. He was always kind and
sweet, and he had a sexy, masculine voice. He had beautiful tatts.
	I stepped away from him. "Stand there," I commanded.
	He did, looking at me uncertainly, and one hand kind of half-
covered his crotch. His dick was half-hard. I looked at it, and he saw my
gaze. "I'm nowhere near as big as you," he said.
	I grinned and shrugged, surprised once again by what he was
thinking, which I wouldn't have guessed. "I don't give a shit," I told him.
"What difference could it possibly make?"
	He shrugged, too, but I could tell he was relieved.
	"You're beautiful, too, you know," I told him.
	"What's going to happen now?" he asked, blushing.
	"I don't know," I confessed. "I just know...I liked that, a lot.
Whatever it means..."
	"We should do it again," he said.
	I nodded, my heart pounding. I was a bit worried he'd freak out. I
loved what we'd done, but I already could tell: I wanted more. It scared
me, especially asking for it. My mouth was dry, but I forced myself to,
anyway.
	"Do you...do you want to come sleep in my bed?" I asked.
	He nodded. I held out my arm and he stepped forward into it,
wrapping his own arm around my waist.
	I couldn't tell you how I felt, exactly, in that moment. I was in
shock. I was amazed. I was scared. I felt weird, and a bit dirty. I also felt
extremely, extremely lucky.


Note to the reader: Thanks a lot for the feedback. There's probably more
to come on this story, if you're interested. You might also like my other
stories,  "Fredo and my Brother Ben," and "My Big Bro Shiloh." In this
story, Lee is based on me, though I'm still looking for my Jake... ;)