Date: Thu, 2 Mar 2017 07:57:28 -0500
From: Bear Pup <orson.cadell@gmail.com>
Subject: Karl and Greg 18

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.

*****

This wasn't the long, insane, intense, mind-altering thing that I'd had
last night, but it was damn sure a close second. This was a not the edging
and torturous rapture, but in about ten lifetimes/minutes I was howling in
ecstasy when he finally brought me off, explosively, and began to lick and
suckle up the drops. I looked over and Pa's face was a thing to behold. He
did not like being beat, and he was not pleased in any way, shape or
form. He looked like a red thunderstorm poised to wipe out a town. Greg
tucked me back in, zipped me up and sat back as my breathing returned to
normal and an almost-liquid contentment took me. I was in heaven, and not
only because I beat Pa, but because I won Greg.

Greg sat back on his haunches and looked up and smiled gently. "Karl, I'm
sorry, Pa won."

*****

Karl and Greg 18: Penalty Box

By Bear Pup

M/M; competition; oral; turnabout; rules; anal; piss

My jaw fell. "Wuh?"

"Pa won, Karl. He did a whole lot, worked real hard and got more points."

"Wha? Bu? Wuh?"

Greg just smiled as the orgasm faded from my eyes and some sense returned.

"But WHY? What you just! What you! My GOD, Greg, why?"

"Pa won, Karl, but the tenderness that you took with every one of, of
m-m-m-mom's ornaments ma-made me cry, Karl. It hurt so much that I c-can't
even dust. And you didn't just dust, you t-treasured all of it, all of
what's left of m-Mom. It was a great gift to me, Karl." I reached down and
brushed a tear from his cheek and he rubbed into my hand like a cat.

Pa, fuck him, was back on top of the world. Cock-o-the-Walk.

^ Greg led us into dinner. I sincerely wanted to mope and grump, but Greg
had made a meaty, rich stew thick with sour cream and mushrooms over
buttery noodles. Beef Smirnoff? Something like that.

^ [GREG: Sigh. Stroganoff, Karl. Beef *Stroganoff*. Sometimes I could just
cry...]

^ Anyway, no guy could pout when that wondrous stuff kept coming, along
with some heavy, dense, oven-hot bread and a thick stout. Just... wow. Far,
far too soon, we were done though.

Back we trooped, and fuck if Greg didn't curl up with Pa. I just couldn't
take it. "I've got to study."

I went upstairs and was there for about 30 minutes, staring blankly at my
books, when there was a knock. Greg came in.

"We all need to get to bed early. It's a big test day for both of us. I
studied this afternoon, and now we'll finish yours. Soc with Geography and
US Hist, right?" I just nodded, then moaned when he sank below the
desk. Again with the question-plus-edging, quizzing-plus-ball-work. Back
and forth, back and forth. I was dying with need, compounded by the fact
that I had fucking LOST to PA. Greg's watch chimed at 9:30. I was a
wreck. I'd been teased so long and so masterfully that I was shooting
dogwater in pulses.

Greg got up and I heard his knees and back pop as he stretched. I looked
back and forth from Greg to my aching cock like a dog from his master's
face to a favourite toy, awaiting the throw. He turned and I sobbed as long
and soul-wrenching, "No-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh..."

Greg turned back and I saw sadness and real concern on his face. "I'm Pa's
for tonight Karl. Them's the rules. You can't expect the ref to cheat?"

I know (and didn't care) that I looked like a baby who dropped his lolly,
lip trembling and eyes large and pitiful. Greg sighed. "Okay, maybe just a
final incentive for you to ace both tests." Greg leant forward and raped my
mouth with his agile and strong tongue, simultaneously caressing and
jacking my screaming cock. He swallowed my exultant cries, moans and
need-filled, ecstatic groans like he'd done my cum earlier and I... blew
like a bomb. Never, not by my own hand or anyone else's, had I been jerked
to such a shattering climax. I was literally sex drunk, smiling stupidly
whilst the room spun around me, as Greg turned and left.

And from the pinnacle of ecstasy, I plummeted to the pits of hell. I heard
Pa's deep, lusty chuckle move past my door and down to his own. The evil
fuck even left his door open so I couldn't escape the exuberant fuck
noises. I jacked myself three times to climax before falling to sleep,
exhausted by cum and anguish at what I could only imagine caused those
squeals and grunts, cries and moans, from both my God, Pa, and my
obsession, Greg. I would throw a fuck to that old, shrivelled bat Ms
Hennessy if it would get me an ace tomorrow, and blow smelly Mr Matos as
well. I vowed to every God of racing that I would win Monday come hell or
high water.

Breakfast was, if anything, worse. Pa came in after I did, whistling,
*whistling*. I could gleefully have throttled the bastard, father or no,
but I sucked it up and smiled, making polite small talk. Pa, though,
couldn't leave it alone. He kept asking things like how I slept and, in
mock concern, if the 'sound show' had kept me up, since it was sooooo
important that I sleep well so I could get good grades. I was biting my
cheek enough I could taste blood, but I never did anything less than grin
at least, and smile when I could. He finally left, snagging his lunch-pail
on the way out, humming 'Take me Out to the *BALL* Game' adding loud
harmonics when he hummed where *ball* would have been.

As we'd done before when we both had no-practice days as school, I drove
and Greg rode with me. He kept looking at me, but I stayed as pleasant and
as cheerful as an enraged, hormone-tortured, sleep-deprived teen jock could
until we split and headed to our respective lockers. I met up with my buds
who asked about Indy right up until the bell rang.

End of Year Exams at our school were three-hour-long ordeals. Social
Studies was split with a third for geography and the rest for government. I
was utterly confident that I had nailed Geography, and was really
comfortable with my government stuff (except for which clause was which in
the Constitution; I mean, who the fuck CARES?). I spent the final 30
minutes going over every single question and making a few corrections.

Lunch was with the old gang, and we had a lot to catch up on. Who'd fucked
whom and who'd fucked who over were the primary topics, of course, with a
side of sports and team-drama. I was the *star* of Monday lunch, though, as
I regaled them with tales of the Brickyard on Race Days. I was in a great
mood when I got to US History...

...until Mr Motherfucking Matos decided to focus on dates, the one thing I
hated most. Suddenly, though, something that had served me well throughout
my sports career came to the rescue -- muscle memory. It happened first
about 30 minutes in when I read a question about Shiloh that left me
stumped. Suddenly, in my mind's eye, Greg's tongue flashed on my foreskin
as he asks me about "Shiloh, Gettysburg and Appomattox" and I nearly
groaned out loud. His teeth on my left nut as I got it slightly wrong and
corrected my answer desperately to ensure that I kept that part attached. I
scribbled furiously.

I got some very odd looks over that three hours. A girl to my left had an
unobstructed view of my crotch as it throbbed and danced through the memory
of the last two nights' study sessions. The occasionally gasp or cough to
cover a whimper went (largely) unnoticed. It was done in two hours. I took
a lot of time to revise, finding things, especially from the first
half-hour, that needed work. I was finally satisfied when there were only
ten minutes left. A lot of visuals of murdered kittens, wrinkled lesbian
nun sex and STD "Health" films were required, but I was finally able to
stand without knocking the desk over with my erection. I was ecstatic to
realises that wet spot was not at all (much) noticeable as I hollered a few
strained goodbyes and sprinted for the car.

When Greg arrived, I was still out of breath. He started quizzing me
immediately and mercilessly. We got home and he stripped me quickly and
efficiently, hanging or collecting everything but my jock and boxers. I
then sat, jaw nearly unhinged, as he went into a whirlwind of culinary
activity. The grilling (of both me and skewers of meats and veggies
something) went on until Pa got home, and continued as Pa showered and
shaved after Greg undressed him.

Pa came down and I asked, stuttering a little, "Aren't you gonna do any
list things, Pa?"

He laughed. "Why bother, sport? I got this in the BAG!"

Greg plated the kebabs with a side of something he called rice pilaf,
served with a tangy white wine. It was, of course, incredible and I beamed
at him and thanked him. Pa praised him extravagantly as well between
sneaking in digs at how badly he bet I did on the tests.

Greg shooed us into the living room whilst he tidied the kitchen, and I sat
there fidgeting like a kid at the dentist. Pa just smiled and smirked at
me.

Finally, Greg came in. Without preliminaries, he curled up in my lap. "I
think you probably aced the Social Studies and might well have done so in
History." Pa's furious grunt of surprise was music to my soul, but nothing
like what came next.

Greg turned to look at Pa, but kept speaking to me. "Of course, Karl, that
didn't actually matter today." I jumped, horrified that another reversal
was coming. "You see, even though I'm really proud at how well you did, you
could have merely passed one and flunked the other and you want have
won..."

Pa roared, "WHAT?!?"

Greg's voice didn't even change in the slightest, "...because Pa guaranteed
that he had Not... One... Single... Point with the nasty way he treated you
this morning, Karl." Greg's eyes bored into Pa's horrified ones. "He made
me mad last night when he left the door open just to taunt you, but making
me mad is only ten points. But the way he was to you at breakfast?
Unacceptable. Red Card. Off the field. Pa, you see, I wasn't kidding. You
two start being human to each other *as well as* me, or tell me how many
cum rags you need cuz me buying them is the closest you are going to get to
sex for the rest of your fucking life."

Pa's mouth was working but no sound came out. "Oh, and by the way, Pa?
Remember that the scoring-day ends and starts at dinner? The trash-talk at
the table about dumb ole Greg who, by the way, probably aced both his tests
and is a damn smart kid as well as being a fucking fantastic brother,
should have erased your points for tomorrow as well. But since I don't
think you really understood how serious I was, you only get a ten-point
penalty. I suggest. Pa, that you pull your gorgeous head out of that
amazing, fur-covered ass of yours and get with the programme.

"Karl, you need to study for tomorrow. Up!"

I wasn't sure my jaw would ever close, and I think Pa's had blown a
radiator hose from the spluttering and hissing noises. I just followed Greg
to my room where he quickly inserted himself below the desk. "American
Literature and AP Geometry, right?" I grunted assent as he stripped my
shorts and positioned me in my desk chair. I mechanically grabbed my pad
and several pens. I had broken two the previous night and didn't want to
have to pause again in the wonderful torment that was to come.

I looked like a palsy victim by the time he was done with me. He got up and
I was about to cry when he pulled me into a kiss and dragged me to the
bed. He slammed me backwards and my breath was sucked into Greg's
passionate kiss.

Greg pulled back and I was dazed from the edging and from the raw passion
of that embrace. "Karl, Pa is really having a very, very bad night. He
really didn't expect what happened and, to be fair, was acting like the
lovable lunk he is.

"So I am going to fuck your brains out, but not rub his nose (or ears) in
it. I do, however, have a present for you." He wriggled and suddenly the
sweaty jock was in front of me. My mouth began to water. "I wore it at
practice Thursday and Friday, and all day today I've been edging in it." My
eyes popped and I moaned at the mischief in his eyes. He took the
opportunity to stuff the pouch of that reeking and glorious strap into my
mouth and I nearly came.

"Let's take the edge off, Baby Bro, cuz this is going to be a pretty great
night." With that, he ground hard into my crotch. My precum was so thick it
was like a lube-pot. He started what felt like a lap-dance, gyrating and
teasing my over-excited prick. The scent and musk and sweat from the jock
was like a drug, or at least did what all those buds told me drugs
did. Suddenly, his tongue was in my ear and his nails scrrrrrraped down my
sides and I squealed into the gag and came explosively, erupting between
us, hunching up, abs almost cramping with the effort.

The wondrous stench of the crotch-rag was wrenched from my mouth, replaced
by Greg's lips. He sucked my tongue like a second dick, renewing my
orgasm. Then the jock was back, now sopping with my own load, nearly
sending me back to orgasm it was so intense. Greg's divine scent and my own
cum mixed together into something that brought me to the edge of delirium,
yanked back when Greg's tongue and lips began to lips and slurp my load
from my belly, hands caressing my nuts in a way that brought me literally
to tears.

I screamed into the gag again as I watched Greg straddle me and slowly
lowering himself on my rampant prick. He'd lubed himself and stretched
somehow, and his luscious ass simply swallowed me like a throat with a
million licking tongues. And thus began the most-intense and mind-blowing
sex I'd ever imagined. On Saturday, Greg had ridden me like bronco after
fucking me near to orgasm, and brought us both off as my dick and his
fingers pulsed and prodded each other's prostates.

This was different. Instead of the glorious writhing of lean muscles of his
ass, back and shoulders, this time he was facing me, his amazing cock
flopping around in my face as he corkscrewed and pleasured himself with my
cock. And then, OH GOD, he brought my hands to his tits. As I caressed and
petted Greg, his own hands found and pinched my own sensitive nips. I went
frankly fucking insane, screaming nonstop into the jock-strap, each
inhalation flooding my senses with the mixture of Greg's incomparable scent
and the liquefying cum that he had yanked from my own body minutes earlier.

Greg used me in a way I thirsted to be used, finding and punching every
pleasure point. His gasps and squeaks guided my hands on his tits, just as
my own moan and growls guided him on when his ministrations were making my
dick twitch with need and my mind reel in ecstasy. He brought me close over
and over and over... AND OVER. I could no longer see Greg, or anything
else.

My eyes were rolled back and my world was Greg's tits, Greg's ass, the
sounds that came from Greg. I had a dick and tits, both of which were on
fire with need, but I could dismiss them for a single shudder that I could
bring my brother. With a final plunge, Greg's nails bit HARD into my nips
and I nearly bit through the jack-strap. I came so hard and so long I
actually do not remember stopping. My next conscious thought was the warmth
and joy of holding Greg as he struggled to silence the alarm. My arms and
our dried loads struggled to keep him trapped, but he managed to peel
himself away to shut off the beeping.

I looked on mournfully, knowing this was the end of my evening of
heaven. How wrong I was. The look in my brother's eyes made me gasp. He
leaned forward toward my rampant piss-hard. I tried to whisper that I was
desperate for a piss. Pushing him away. He finally got exasperated and
shoved that heavenly jock back into my maw and I quieted instantly,
suckling it like a calf on a cow. It was then that I felt my dick slide
down that warm, inviting, tormenting throat. I squealed as his mouth
suckled and tickled me, and suddenly his hands were both on my lower belly,
stroking, caressing, massaging.

My eyes flew open and I started to push Greg away, again forgetting what an
athlete he was. I might as well have tried moving a bull dozer. I howled
into the jock and started the try and pry his hands away. You know that,
throughout, it never occurred to me to simply reach up and remove the gag?
Greg had put it in and I would have cut off an arm before undoing anything
my god of a brother wanted.

Greg pulled sensuously, torturously, off my prick licking me to distraction
as he did. "What's the matter, Karl," he asked in a teasing sing-song,
"does Baby Bro need to pee-pee?" I nodded frantically, desperately. He
smiled wickedly and said, "Good!" and went back to his deep-throat work. I
screamed as his hands began to knead harder and harder on my cramping
bladder until I could do nothing else.

I wept as the first tiny spurt burst out and Greg just suckled harder. I
lost the battle and then simple lost the war as well, gushing piss. Greg
just slurped and gurgled as I flooded him, moaning and humming on my dick
as I groans and grunting in relief. I'd never felt such release, such
power, such an ego-rush. I was luxuriating in the morning piss, one of my
favourite things on Earth, the wonderful sensation of waking up to utter,
pure release. And Greg didn't stop when my stream did, something that I
realised slowly.

Greg was now licking, sucking, teasing -- my foreskin being nibbled, his
hands at my balls, my ass, my super-sensitive taint. His hands were
*everywhere* as he went deep, then shallow then nibbled and teased, then
back again. It took no time at all, the sensation and memory and idea and
love and awe and ego and OH MY GOD! What took it over the top was a sudden
purring that erupted through my dick like a sexual earthquake. I was afraid
that, even with my athletic background, that my lungs would burst from the
scream or my heart would explode from the rush. I... lost it -- lost my
mind, lost my load, lost my entire concept of reality, utterly lost in the
detonation orchestrated, wired, lit and fired by my brother. And I was fine
with that.

<eof>

As always, your comments and ideas are more than welcome. It's how my
writing and my stories improve.

*****

Active storelines, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay...
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