Date: Tue, 31 Jan 2017 19:18:39 -0500 From: Bear Pup Subject: Karl & Greg 13 Please see original story (www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/karl-and-greg/karl-and-greg-1) for warnings and copyright. Highlights: All fiction. All rights reserved. Includes sex between blood-related 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. Skip food-related paragraphs with (^) at the start. Donate to Nifty **TODAY** at donate.nifty.org/donate.html to keep the cum coming. ***** "God, I love you, big bro. You are everything I ever wanted. I always craved your attention and wanted your approval; I didn't know I could get even closer. I know Pa fucked you over, but I think we both need this. Holy fuck, bro, I never imagined you be this great of a lay, this great of a guy!" I grunted as I reached my peak. Each word now accompanied by a long-dicked thrust into Greg's launch button. "I... am... never... gonna... leave... you... without... this... again. Best..." I felt Greg explode onto the sheets and moan out his orgasm whilst clamping onto my dick," Birthday... EVER!!" I shot and shot, long after Greg's orgasm subsided. I feel into dreamless sleep still lodged in his amazing ass; Greg had claimed me tonight as much or more that I claimed him. ***** Karl & Greg 13: The Morning After By Bear Pup M/M; no sex; intense plot crap I woke to one of the most wonderful sensation I'd ever had. The man that I had adored most of my life, longing for a hint of approval, was curled up with his head on my chest and my arm around him. Greg's crotch was half-glued to me with our combined cum loads. I am not normally an early riser -- far from it! -- so I'm not sure what brought me awake when it was still full-dark. I laid there, rock-hard and supremely happy watching Greg sleep. One thing I found particularly adorable: His right hand hovered near his mouth, nestled in my chest fur. You know, like when a kid sucks his thumb? Greg wasn't doing that, but the posture just melted my heart. It was like the lusty demon of the night before with an ass that did not quit suddenly became innocent and young again. As with so many good things, an alarm clock brought it to a crashing end. Karl's hand shot out and silenced the thing scant moments after it started, and he was instantly awake. I'd have to ask how he did that! I bend down to kiss him, but I was shocked at Greg's expression. Last night had been the culmination of a dream for me -- a dream I didn't even know that I *had* -- but that was not what I saw in his eyes. He jumped out of bed with what sounded like a sob and ran downstairs. I laid there poleaxed. I reran the night's events in my mind. Yeah, Greg had looked at me with daggers and hollered when Pa told him I was gonna bust his cherry, but he'd loved it and begged for it the whole rest of the time! Didn't he? I remember eating him out, that amazing a perfect ass. He squirmed and whimpered around Pa's dick. That HAD to mean he liked it! He writhed and bucked around like dog in heat when Pa lubed up his ass and my -- oh dear! A huge glob of pre just throbbed out of my dick at the memory -- own dick with Greg's saved dogwater. I'll admit that I was barely conscious for the next part as Pa let just the tip -- oh, GOD! -- of my dick into his ass, but I know Greg was moaning his approval to beat the band! When Pa pulled his dick out of Greg's mouth, he was crying for it! The whole cum of a lifetime happened, so I can't honestly say I heard much other than my own snorting and howling. When I got back to my senses, Greg's eyes were filled with fire, lust so strong it scorched me. Was it possible -- even SLIGHTLY possible? -- that it was some other and equally-strong emotion? No way. He howled, I mean *howled* with need as Pa kept me from plundering that ass and would only let a bit at a time in. There was no way at all that I missed the signals when he started to twitch and groan. Even PA said that I was making him happy! Greg kept yelling out just how he wanted me to fuck him, where, how fast, *everything*. How could he do that if he wasn't loving it? When I asked what he wanted, he begged me to fuck him! And when I just asked him to be nice, he screamed out that he wanted to by my bitch! My pussy! He begged me to let him! Begged me to let him be my pussy! I never even ASKED for that! But then when he turned over and curled up, maybe he wasn't having the aftershocks I was. Maybe he was... crying? And then he went all verbal at Pa and acted like he hated what we'd done? Then in the middle of the night he damned near fucked himself onto me. Yeah, he moaned 'Pa' but he sure shot one hell of a load and I was telling him how much I loved him and wanted him to be happy! He had to know it wasn't Pa's voice... right? That was when the smell hit. Ohmagod, what a smell. Even over the rich and lustful smell of cum and man-sex that had firm possession of my nuts and prick, coffee and bacon and god only knows what else grabbed me by the stomach a pulled. I heard Pa flush just as I stumbled into the kitchen, bleary and still confused from my morning ruminations. Greg was at the stove. If my dick hadn't already been hard and leaking it would have sprung up fast enough to put someone's eyes out. Greg was nekkid except for an apron tied behind him, the ribbon trickling down into his ass crack. Below, I could see some of my own jism leaking in a thin trail down his inner thigh, the sexiest thing I'd ever seen. I stood rooted to the spot, lost in lust and love, until Pa pushed past me, fully-dressed and chuckling. "Ain't you never seen six foot of pure sex cooking breakfast before, sport?" Greg didn't turn, but that line broke my own paralysis and I sat down to the left of Pa, unconsciously picking the seat that left me with a clear view of my indescribably sexy brother, the one person in the world other than Pa whose attention I'd always craved. Greg turned, glanced at me then away {my heart plummeted} and delivered three plates. ^ On each was some unidentifiable wedge of pale yellow with green flecks and some odd-looking toast and what looked to be tomatoes on each side. A tall, steaming glass mug was at my place as well. Pa had already started eating when I took the first bite. ^ "Oh-my-fucking-god! Greg! What is this?!?" An explosion of flavour hit me. The 'bacon' was some sort of thin, crispy, rich ribbons of deliciousness [Greg's note: prosciutto] with spicy green chunks [G: pepperoncini] and cheese-cheese-cheese [G: Romano mixed in and big chunks of provolone]. The tomato was hot and soft and perhaps even more luscious than Greg's ass the night before [G: eye-roll]; the toast was heavy and dense and trapped the butter. I was in breakfast heaven. The steaming mug was a thick and powerful coffee unlike any I'd ever had. "Inegarad aneeting soungerfuh" that was supposed to be, I think, "I've never had anything so wonderful," but I wasn't about to stop eating just so other people could understand me! Pa chuckled. "This is what I've been getting for a couple weeks. As soon as I told Greg to cook what he *thought* I'd like instead of what I told him, the grub has become almost as good as the sex!" Greg blushed adorably at Pa's wink. Pa grabbed a lunchbox I never even noticed on his way out the door, buckling on his Mr. Construction Kit as he moved. He paused at the door. Without turning he said, "Greg, you can hate me if you want, but it's what you both needed. I'm sorry." It was like that scene from Wizard of Oz. Greg melted off the chair. I rushed to him, catching him as he dissolved in sobs. My heart was breaking. Greg laid curled for a minute in my arm then his head snapped up and he pushed HARD away from me. Crab-walking back against the cabinets, he stared at me with wide and fearful eyes. "Wh, what are you g, going to d, do to me now?" I just sat and stared, slack-jawed. Do TO him? "Nothing, Greg! I was just so happy to be with you and have you pay, um, pay attention to me." "NO! You want me to be your bitch," he sobbed then wailed, "and I AM your bitch. I know it. I know it. I know it!" I couldn't take this. Greg scuttled back more as I moved forward, but reached the corner. I reached down and grabbed the apron, dragging his frantic eyes up to mine and said, "You are no one's bitch. You are my brother," and I proceeded to kiss him as passionately as I had ever kissed before. He pulled and twisted but, stuck in a corner with my body pressed to his and my lips swallowing his objections, there was no place to go. I felt his hands go to my neck and slowly, slowly, pulled me deeper into the kiss. Neither of us broke the kiss; hypoxia did. Greg looked utterly undone -- confused, enraged, needy, lustful. I'm shorter by nearly a foot, but I have muscles to spare. I leant forward and picked Greg up like a child, cradled in my arms. His eyes never left mine, but the fear was back, edging to panic. I made it to the living room and sat in Pa's recliner (a major sin regardless of circumstances, but I didn't give a fuck right then), tucking Greg into my lap and pulling him into another, gentler kiss. "I don't know what you think I said last night, and I'm not totally sure what you said either. But here is what's real, Greg: I love you. I've always loved you. All I ever wanted was to make you happy, get your attention, maybe make you proud of me. That didn't change last night. If anything, I feel it stronger than ever. I love you, Greg Patrick Barca. I. Love. You." "But what you did! What Pa did! What he made me do! And you said you wanted me to be your bitch, your pussy." Greg was pushing away, but his strength was no match for mine even if I hadn't been fuelled with a decade's worth of passionate need. "NO! No. Greg, I said I wanted you to *stop* being a bitch *to me*. I don't need a pussy; I've always had plenty. What I want is my brother. I'm sorry; I was harsh. But I was never good enough for you and then Mom died and you, you froze m, m, me out. I just want my b, brother, I want him to love me. To see me. To let me love him back, Greg." Yes, I was crying a little. Not easy for me to admit, but I couldn't help it. "I don't know what Pa said or did or why. I know that I thought, last night, that you wanted me. That you finally wanted *ME*, and if the only way you wanted me was as a lover, if me having sex with you would give you want you want from me, I would do that. I would do anything, Greg. Yeah, I was hornier last night than I'd ever been. And I was too quick to take Pa's offer. But Pa taught me good, and I wanted to make you feel, feel, feel how m'much I ne, needed and wanted and loved you, Greg." "But you fucked me! You, you FUCKED me." "And we both came buckets, brother. Greg, you begged for stuff. You begged ME for stuff, and it was the greatest feeling I'd ever had. I wanted it to be the best sex you'd ever dreamed of. I don't understand. I don't understand what you thought, but I know what I thought (well, when I wasn't fuck-crazed). I thought you..." and my voice cracked and fell to an agonised whisper, "wanted me, too." This time when Greg pushed, I didn't have the will to hold him. He stood, staring. His eyes weren't crazed with fear or loathing any longer, but he shook his head slowly as if seeing me for the first time. "I need. I don't. I. I got to. I need... a minute." He turned without breaking eye contact then slowly left the room, looking back at the doorway. I sat, emotionally spent. Last night was the greatest night of my life. Like a hundred Christmas mornings. Greg noticed me (I thought). Greg wanted me (I thought). Greg needed me (I thought). Greg wanted to be with me -- and all of that was... a mistake. I kept reliving the night, reinterpreting every moan and every whimper, trying to make anything other than that initial cry of "NO!" mean that Greg didn't want me. Every "fuck me!" and every "oh, god yes!" and "deeper, harder " and "like that". Somehow, everything I heard was... wrong? Everything Pa suggested was a trick? Everything I felt and screamed and howled was a lie? I vaguely heard the sounds from the kitchen. Greg cleared, then cleaned then puttered. Finally, I sensed a silence and looked up. Greg stood in the doorway, still in that adorable apron. He just stared at me, brow furrowed, for the longest time. I finally realised that I was getting faint from lack of breath and inhaled. That seemed to break his spell as well, and he moved into the living room and stood a couple of feet in front of me. "You really loved me all that time?" The tangential slash of the question spun my head. I surely looked comical as I scrunched my face and nodded. "You didn't hate me all those years?" It was like being on a playground roundabout with someone pushing it faster and faster and faster. I just shook my head, completely bemused. "All those years, you didn't despise me for being weak? For not being an athlete?" I found a tiny fraction of my voice, "No. I became an athlete so you'd, well, look at me -- see me." "And all the time you spend with Pa and locked me out?" There was a fierce edge to that question. "I turned to Pa b, b, because you, because I, because you wouldn't *look* at me, Greg." The waterworks returned and I cried in silence, Greg's image blurring and rippling in my view. "Pa was all I had." Greg folded, collapsed into the couch across from me. "We are a seriously fucked-up family." I just stared and let the tears leak. "All those years, I thought you despised me. And now you say you wanted *me* to approve of *you*? I don't understand. I don, I don't get it. I was waiting for anything you or Pa would give me. Any scrap of validation. I worked so," Greg sobbed and it shredded what was left of my heart, "so hard! So hard." I couldn't take the tension any more. I launched myself to sit on the floor beside the couch, holding and looking up at Greg as he sat there. "All I wanted... No, all I WANT is you to care about me, Greg. It is all, all, all I ever wanted. I have wanted you to, to," my voice failed and a hoarse whisper replace it, "to think about me, may, maybe to lu, lo, love me?" Greg just stared at me, stared and stared and stared. Finally, he let himself flow off the couch so we were sitting on the same level. His arm shook as he reached out and brushed my hair from my face. I hiccoughed as he did so, overcome with emotion. He let the back of his hand slide across my cheek. I almost purred. His voice rescued my soul, "We've got a lot to talk about, baby bro. Let's go upstairs, okay?"