Date: Sun, 17 Dec 2017 17:09:12 -0700
From: Rocky Hawkins <justwriting@soniq.org>
Subject: Silent Restroom Doors

Title: Silent Restroom Doors

Email: justwriting@soniq.org

Author's Note:

This story is told as a fantasy, and I won't tell you that there is any
truth to it. But, as narrator and protagonist, I am not really that
creative. So, you can decide if I made it up or not...

I love email and feedback, so let me know if you like this one!

DISCLAIMER:

The following content may contain detailed descriptions of sexual
interactions between a minor and adult. If the laws in your place of
residence or your religious beliefs make it illegal or wrong to read such,
do not continue. If this type of content offends you, do not continue.

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Contact me:
Feedback and such to justwriting@soniq.org.

========================================================

I was 12 years old when I realized I was gay. It wasn't surprising to me,
really, since kids at school have been calling me queer and `faggot' for as
long as I could remember. The turning point for me was just one of those
incidents.

I was in the locker room, and in true 6th grade fashion, they made us strip
and shower and change into gym uniforms, including wearing jock
straps. Like being 12 wasn't already awkward enough!

"I told you Dade was a fag," I looked up from the bench, toward Joey
Marcus, pointing at his jock. "You guys, seriously, he has been staring at
my jock for like, 5 minutes!"

I blushed. I blushed HARD. You know what? He was right. I was staring. His
torso was lean, his pecs and abs were top of his game, and he had the
roundest ass I'd seen of anyone. I mean, I've only seen my own class in our
changing room here, but he, by far, had the best body.

The guys all laughed and kept joking around. I rolled my eyes and tried to
ignore them. But it was then, it clicked. I never once looked at girls like
I look at boys. In the shower at home, where I discovered the joys of a
power hand shower nozzle against my groin, my thoughts always went back to
Abercrombie catalog models, or.. Joey.

I was gay. My name is Dade Murphy, 12 year old homo. Huh. Now what.

I walked home that day, just a bit numb. It was a big realization, and I
had to figure out what, if anything, would change. Do I tell anyone? What
happens if I meet another boy? Does sex hurt? I mean, I'm not really
ignorant to how things work - I am 12 after all, and I have the
internet. But, until today, I never really even thought that I needed to
look at porn. Maybe I should. You know, for research.

When I got home, I called through the house to see if anyone was home. It
was just my Mom, Sharon, and my brother, Doug. Doug was 16, and I never saw
him. He was a `cool' teenager, and I was a dorky little kid.

Actually, that's not completely true. I mean, yeah, I was a bit of a clumsy
dork. But I wasn't little, and I wasn't that bad to look at. I had a growth
spurt over the summer; I grew to 5'8, and what my mom called `baby fat' had
turned into some lean muscle. Even though I don't like sports really, I
still like to run, and I climb trees all the time. So much, that Doug used
to call me `Monkey'. Well, when he used to hang out with me, anyway.

Yeah. So my plan didn't work. Mom has an internet blocker on the
router. So, no porn for me, but I did figure out how to see some dudes
though from google images. Guys on there ranged all across the
spectrum. Thin guys, muscle guys, and even guys who were uncircumcised. As
I looked through the thumbnails, my body clearly confirmed my suspicion. My
dick was hard in my cargo shorts. I'm not sure if I am average for my age,
but I know it's really hard to hide when I get horny. I did use a school
ruler once to measure, so I know I am about 5" when it's hard. Honestly,
not sure why I measured, but I kinda feel like all guys check themselves,
you know?

I was just about to fix the problem, unzipping, when I heard the door keys
jingle. Doug walked in to the main room just as I closed the browser. I
blushed again, but he just rolled his eyes. Right to his room, as
always. Music on, blaring. Door. Locked. Still, I couldn't risk it. Mom
might come home any minute. Time for a long, hot, pulsing shower.

When Doug came down for breakfast the next morning, I noticed his hair had
a streak of white in the front. It was clearly bleached. Mom didn't say a
word when she saw it, but I watched her roll her eyes. He was so different
now. As kids, we were almost like twins. There was never a question that we
were brothers. We both had blue eyes, with light brown hair. Most of the
time, I would make him or mom style my hair to match his. Back then, we did
everything together. I don't know what changed - but about 2 years ago,
when he was 14, he just started locking his door. Then he stopped climbing
trees with me. Then he would get mad at me, and call me a `stupid little
kid'.

Doug and I never take the same route to school. At one point, he started
leaving the house earlier than me, and he rides his bike through the
park. Since it's always sunny in California, and the school is like a mile
away, I've always just walked. Going through the park is faster, but
there's a lot of kids that go that way, and I don't feel like dealing with
them, if they decide to tease me. It's happened before.

On this particular day, though, I was running late. I had to cut through
the park. Since school was starting in about 15 minutes, I risked it. I
didn't think any kids would be out. I was right. For the most part, the
park was empty. I passed by the swings where Doug and I used to play. I
walked around the 'lake', which was mostly just a pond. I passed by the big
green bathrooms; it was an old but solid building. It had doors on either
side, one for girls and one for boys. It was painted green on the outside,
but I've used it before, and inside it was all white. Tile lined all of the
walls, and the stalls were even built with full walls. The floor was
concrete, and always had a damp feeling - but whoever managed the park,
kept it spotless. Doug even commented once, back when Doug and I came here,
that there was never any graffiti on the walls.

As I was passing, I shimmer of silver caught my eye. There, tucked in the
bushes beside the big green building, looked like a... bike? I squinted to
see, but couldn't tell. I didn't have time to check.

At school, I made it to first period just in time. I had to skip my locker
on the way, so I got yelled at for having my book bag, but otherwise, the
day went by just fine. I never wanted to be late to first period; it was
English class, and my teacher, Mr. Montoya, was always wearing clothes
one-size too small. If you ever thought you might be gay? Take his
class. You'll know.

He was in his late 20's - a fact we found out during a round table about
Hamlet - and he was not married. He said he had a child, but he never
really talked about it. I feel like he said it just to keep a bit of
mystery. Anyway, he's about 6 foot, and you can tell he works out. His arms
are always bulging, and tight around his shirt sleeves. And he always wore
jeans, unlike any other teacher. But they weren't normal jeans. They were
the kind that the cool kids wear. Like, the lower rise, expensive kind you
seen in shopping malls with perfect, shirtless guys posing in black & white
pictures. It was always skin tight on him, and so, there was always enough
to look at! Of course, I had to be careful- sometimes I would catch myself
staring.

..."Mr. Murphy! Are you with us?" Damn, I was daydreaming.

"Uh yeah, of course, Mr. M!" I stammered.

"You owe me a Quatrain, Mr Murphy..."

I stood up, grabbing a scribbled note from my journal. Good thing I had
time last night!

I coughed, then cleared my throat.

"On winds of sea, the night turned to day; Apart, the young travelers made
their way.  Much to the demise of the travelers in tow, There are many days
that pass before today.

Two ship mates, working hard for their pay, They must tend to their ship,
earn their stay.  For if they don't, their future is bleak - And then they
will not find, the home along the bay."

I folded the paper up, sitting down. A cough from behind, "*cough* homo so
gay! *cough*"

"That's enough," Mr. Montoya warned, looking at the giggling boys behind
me. "Not bad, Dade. Inspiration?"

I shrugged. "Started as a rhyme," I said. I looked at Mr. Montoya's
feet. Nikes. Nice. "Then, I thought about like, how this country came to
be. And like, how all different people had to work to make it happen. I
dunno, it just.. started to come out."

Mr. Montoya nodded, and took my paper with the poem. "Good work."

Outside, after school, I caught a glimpse of my Brother on his bike. He
headed toward the park and I started my walk.

A familiar voice began from behind me. "Ohhh, two ship mates, GAY in the
dark..."

I didn't turn around. There was no need. Eddie, and likely his group, were
behind me.

They continued, "Gay for each other.. sucking dick in the park!"

I rolled my eyes, but kept walking. You can't give them the satisfaction of
fear, or anger, or hurt. You just. Keep. Walking.

I turned to the park, and they didn't follow. They had buses to catch.

Just like in the morning, I had to pass the pond and the big Breen
bathrooms. Again, I saw the shimmer of silver. I looked around. No one of
concern was in the area, so I decided to investigate. Besides, I had to
pee.

I climbed the small hill, reaching the cracked concrete sidewalk that lead
to the two doors. Off to the left, the shimmer had become recognizable; it
was a bike. Likely, some kid needed to pee. I didn't look any closer, and
instead walked around to the boys' side.

Entry to the building was weird. The first part was actually just an L
shaped wall. I guess it prevented wind and rain against the real door,
around the corner. The actual door was big and heavy, made of metal, but
painted to look like the rest of the building. It opened surprisingly easy,
but was still heavy. I noticed that it was well oiled, it didn't make any
squeaking noises.

Once you were in that part, it was just a row of sinks, leading to another
door. As before, there was no graffiti on any of the walls, and the whole
place smelled like bleach. Super clean.

I walked through the next door, into the main room. It was just a swinging
door, also whisper quiet. The room had 6 stalls on the side, and 8 urinals
directly in front of them. There were windows at the top, about 9 feet up,
with vents above them. It was dimly lit, but the afternoon sun was enough
to see clearly.

Because I get teased a bit in school, I often check who's in the room
before I commit to a urinal. Boys can be jerks in the bathroom. I bent down
a bit, peeking under the row. The first couple were empty, so I walked in,
unzipping at the first urinal. As I began to pee, I heard a speaking noise,
like a shoe on wet tile. My head snapped over to the last stall, and I saw
a pair of feet. Oh, ok. Someone is in here. Probably that kid with the
bike.

A moment later, I heard a.. voice? "Go slower, and I'll get there.." It
whispered.

My peeing stopped, and I pulled up my shorts immediately. I didn't leave my
spot, but I turned my head and shoulders to the sound. That's when I
noticed it. The shoes. They were pointing AT the toilet, not away. Maybe he
was pee shy? Who uses the stall to pee?

Then, it happened again. "Dude, you gonna.. eat it?" Said the whisper.

What was going on? Slowly, I bent down. My eyes blinked. Then again. There,
in the last stall, were not just a pair of feet pointing the wrong
way.. but knees. And legs. There was ANOTHER person in the stall, on his
knees!

I held my breath. I needed to see more. I turned on my heels, and took a
step closer. The stalls had thin gaps between the doors. If I could get the
right angle...

"Buddy, I'm close. If you want to swallow... keep going.." Another whisper.

Now that I was closer, I could hear more sounds. Slurping, and a little
gagging. I took another step, now almost directly in front of the stall
next to them. I peeked in. It was dark, but I could see. I could see. I
couldn't believe what I could see.

There was a man, almost bald, on his knees. His hands were holding onto the
hips of another, a man standing up. The bald guy had his eyes clamped shut,
and his mouth was wrapped tightly around.. the standing guy's dick!

I watched in awe as the man on his knees pivoted and stroked his mouth up
and down, sucking in the other guy's cock. He held his hips a wedding ring
on his finger; the standing man had both hands behind the bald man's
neck. Occasionally, the standing man would push his hips forward, and the
balding man would gag, and then pull fully away. Each time, I'd see the
standing man's dick. A good 7", slightly curved, very wet and glistening
with saliva.

Until now, the balding man was all I could see. The standing man, now
breathing heavy, had his face toward the ceiling. I could tell from my own
jerk off sessions, he was getting ready to cum.

The standing man moved his hands to the sides of the balding man's face,
and said, "I'm gonna cum, dude. Want it?"

Without waiting for an answer, the standing man began to pump his hips. The
bald man tightened his face, his eyes watering. He began to gag with each
thrust, but the standing man didn't stop. The bald man moved his hands from
the hips of the standing man to the sides of the walls, holding on as his
mouth got slammed harder and deeper. With a grunt, the standing man pushed
all the way into his throat, and a small growl, then muffled moan, came
from him. He was cumming down that man's throat!

The standing man shook a little, and the bald man pulled back, his face
matted with sweat, tears, and saliva. His dick fell out of the man's mouth,
and as he wiped the tears, he whispered, "Thanks, that was hot!"

The standing man let go of the balding man, and put his hands through his
hair. He looked down, his cock still dripping with cum, and smiled. "My
pleasure, dude. Same time next week?"

My body froze. Then, in an instant, panic set in. I backed away from the
stall. I passed through the doors. I skipped washing my hands. The oiled,
quiet doors were my savior as I escaped the bathroom. Once outside, I ran
down the hill, across the sandlot, past the old swings, and around the
pond. I didn't allow myself to stop until I was at my block, a couple
houses away.

The bald man. The 45 year old guy, married, had just.. he just gave my
BROTHER a blow job.

I walked into the house, threw my bag to the floor, and flopped on the
recliner. Was my brother gay? Also? I had to know.. but how do I find out?
I can't just be like, 'hey, saw your dick shoving down some married guy's
throat. Is he your boyfriend?'

Just then, Doug came in. As usual, his BMX bike (shiny silver!) was over
his shoulder. The look I had must've been epic; he noticed.

"What's the deal, spaz? Why you lookin' at me like that?" I blinked, but
didn't move. I noted that his shirt was only part way tucked in, and he had
a wet spot on his jeans.

I shook myself out of it, and forced words out of my mouth. "Rough day at
school. Stupid Eddie..."

I heard the words, but I felt drunk. He just shook his head and hung his
bike on the ceiling hook. "Dude, you gotta start fighting back, Date. You
can't be a fag all your life about this shit. Get a black eye. Earn some
respect."

He didn't let me answer, and I felt a twist at my neck. Fag? Respect?
Wasn't HE the one just doing the gay stuff with the married man?

I slammed back in my chair, and began to think about it. His cock was long
and veiny. I mean, it was dark, but I could see it pretty clear. Definitely
longer than anyone I've ever seen. The pics online were ok, but something
about his. It was connected to my brother! I could imagine his dick now, a
missing piece of the puzzle. I'd seen him naked tons of times, or at least
in his underwear; but now, seeing it hard, I could tell why so many crushed
on him. To start, I mean, his hair was perfect. It was amber-brown, and it
fell into his face when he walked, talked, or did just about anything. He
would look through it at you, like he already knew what you were going to
say. He had that smirk in his lips that always invited you to talk, even if
you were mad at his stupid crap. His face, along with his tall frame,
always made him look good in the t-shirt-hoodie-jeans combo he wore. His
pants, always too big, hung off his hips, and his bowers always escaped the
top. He was thin, but not boney; I'd say he would be great for baseball,
but not soccer, you know? I know he didn't work out, but that's not really
an issue, because he was naturally tight. His abs weren't washboard, but he
sure could keep up with the models.

Fuck. I'm hard. I'm hard over my brother. Gay and a creep. I wonder what he
does in that room all the time?

It was four days before I had the chance to find out, or well, even SEE him
again. Each morning, he was out to school before I was done showering; I
wondered if he was getting head every day?

Finally, on Friday, I came up with a plan. At 7th period, I told my teacher
that my inhaler was low. (I never use it, but just in case...) She sent me
to the nurse. The nurse, who didn't seem to care about anything, told me to
run home and get one. She type up an exception on the computer, and I was
out the door. How frickin' easy was that?

I raced out the door, heading right to the park. My plan was simple. I was
gonna hide in the cubicle, and 'catch' him in the act. Then, I was gonna
make him tell me the truth, or, something.

When I got there, no shiny silver. I walked in the bathroom, through the
sinks, and into the main area. To my surprise, there was another man, at
the urinal. He was about 35, almost as short as me. Maybe 5'4"? I wasn't
expecting anyone to be here.

I walked past him, and went into the second-to-last cubicle. For a moment,
I didn't know what to do. I realized quickly that it would be weird to go
into a stall and not 'sit down'... so I did. I pulled down my pants,
checked the seat for anything gross, then sat down.

At first, I looked down, like anyone does when they are in the
bathroom. Then, I noticed movement. The guy at the urinal.. had moved
over. Now, he was at the urinal in front of me. I watched through the
crack; he coughed, then he lowered his pants a little. I'm not sure why,
but I suddenly felt the urge to cough.

When I did, he stopped moving. I watched as he looked out to the doorway,
then hiked up his pants. He stepped away from the urinal, and came to my
stall. With a little wiggle, the door was free, and there he was in front
of me. I looked up at him, blankly, and he stepped in.

"I only got like 5 minutes kid. You swallow or shoot?"

My dick sprang to attention, seeing this grown man in front of me, his
collared shirt tails sticking out, and his dick pulled out of his pants. He
was cut, and thick, but not long. Very hairy.

"So, stand up then!" He whispered. I didn't know what else to do, so I
stood. In seconds, the man was on his knees. His mouth sucked in my cock,
now raising to it's full 5" and sticking straight out.

I felt waves of pleasure hit me as he massaged my shaft with his
tongue. His hands, cold but soft, grabbed my ass and pulled me in. I had no
control over what was happening, but I didn't care. It was the best feeling
I've ever had. And I was getting close.

The man got faster, and he started to grunt. I could feel my own balls pull
tight, and I tried to warn him. "Mister... Sir... Uhm... " I whispered. He
just nodded and went deeper.

There was no holding back. 2 days of cum shot like a rocket out of my
cock. The man pulled me to him as deep as he could, and I felt my cock pass
his tongue. He gagged as I pumped my teen load into his throat, but didn't
pull away. Even when I stopped gyrating and pulsating from the intense
orgasm, he kept me deep inside him. His hands, once holding me in place,
were now at his own cock, once feverishly pumping, the other spinning his
fingers around his balls.

He moaned in muffled sounds, my cock still blocking his throat, as he shot
1, 2, 4 loads of cum onto the floor. It hit my shoes and jeans, and I
didn't move as he convulsed.

Just as quick as it had started, it was over. The man was on his feet, cock
in pants, shirt tucked in, and out the door before I had even come down
from my high. I sat back down, my head spinning. A random dude, no name, no
conversation, had just blown me. My first BJ. Hell YEAH!

I sat there for about 15 minutes, and looked at my phone. Mom gave us flip
phones for emergencies. It was 3:18, and this would be about the time
school let out. I would know in ten minutes, if something was happening. I
pulled up my pants and waited, bringing my feet up to the seat, and resting
my weight on the faucet of the toilet. It wasn't the most comfortable, but
it made sure no one saw me in here.

At 3:35, I was about to give up. A jogger came in to pee, then a school
mate. No married bald man, and no sign of Doug.

I grabbed my bag from the hook and set a foot down, when I heard a shuffle
of sneaker. I froze, and peered out the crack of the stall. Almost 6',
thin, gray backpack, Nikes. That was Doug!

He walked in casually, and headed all the way to the end of the urinals. At
the furthest one, I had to arch my neck and look out the hinge side of the
door to see. I moved super slow and re-hung my bag. I didn't want to miss
anything.

Doug unbuttoned, then unzipped his jeans, letting his pants fall to his
hips. I'd never seen anyone who was about to pee, expose that much of their
underwear before. He pulled the band down from his boxers, and his cock
flopped out. He wasn't hard, and he wasn't peeing. I watched as he adjusted
himself a bit; his pants were far enough to see the bottom of his ass, but
his boxers didn't actually expose anything. His junk was out, but he could
easily flip up the boxers if he wanted. He wasn't peeing. He was
advertising.

And not a moment too soon. A man in a suit walked in, pausing briefly at
the sight of another in the room. He turned to the first urinal, and began
to undo his belt. I felt myself getting hard again.

My brother made no actions, at first. He just stood there, like he was
peeing, even though anyone in the room would know he wasn't. The man, now
unzipped, began to pee, and looked up at the ceiling. Nothing was
happening.

Then, it changed. Doug coughed. Then, he wiggled his dick. His stance
against the urinal was enough that anyone could see his dick. The suited
man, now done peeing, made no move to zip up. Now HE just stood there. Doug
coughed again.

The suit man, slowly looked from the ceiling over to his right, where Doug
was now slowly massaging his dick. Doug didn't look at him, just keep
looking at his own dick. It wasn't getting hard; it was like you do when
you're trying to get the last drops out. The suited man watched.

Doug coughed again, and the suited man shuffled. He looked to the door, and
not seeing anyone, took a few sidesteps. He was now next to my brother,
both facing forward.

I almost gasped at what I saw. My brother, without looking, let go of his
own dick, and reached over to the suited man. His right hand began to
fonder the guy. The suited man flipped back his coat tails, and rested his
hands on his hips.

"You suckin?" The man asked to the air.

Doug replied by turning to the man. "20"

The man nodded, and turned to face my brother. Doug, now fully gripped on
the man's dick, got to his knees. I watched as he licked the head of the
man's dick. I saw the man grow to a full 7". His hands pulled my brother to
his cock, and with no hesitation, pushed all the way inside. Doug didn't
gag; his eyes went wide, and he slammed them shut. The man pulled and
shoved Doug's head back and forth, his hips pumping in time. He got a bit
faster, his breathing now shallow. "30 if you swallow." He said.

Doug moaned and pushed his own head deeper; the man tensed up, and coughed
as I watched my brother swallow his load.

It was quick; the man was zipped up and ready to go in no time, his wallet
out and 30$ handed to him. Doug only nodded, still on his knees. When the
man left, Doug turned and spit the remaining cum from his mouth into the
urinal.

I watched Doug do this two more times right away after that. First to a
Mexican construction worker, no payment, then to a guy about college-age
with a very small cock. That one kissed Doug on the lips, and offered to
blow him. Doug shook his head, but kissed him like he meant it. Doug didn't
even jerk on his own junk. He just kept dropping to his knees and kept
taking guys as they came in. Most passed him a few bucks; not sure how
much.

My own cock was hard and soft so many times, I thought I would explode. But
I was stuck. It was getting harder to sit still, and I was getting sore
from the angle. I could feel the cold metal on my face as I held myself up,
straining to see the action. More than once, the metal stall barriers would
catch my weight, and squeak. Each time, my heart stopped, but neither Doug,
nor his current `friend' seemed to notice.

It wasn't until almost 530pm that Doug finally had enough. He stood up,
spit into the urinal, and flushed. He walked to the door, swinging it
open. I took the opportunity to shift a little, and I heard a cough. I
peeked through the opposite crack in the stall, and Doug was there, at the
door, looking TOWARD ME. My whole body drained of color.

There was no way he could see me, right?

"Hope you enjoyed the show!" he called out.

All of the blood left my body. I felt myself go completely white. I froze
completely. I held my breath as the faucet squeaked alive. Doug was washing
his hands. He was leaving. In a moment, I would be alone.

I waited for another 15 minutes. It was easily after 6pm when I let myself
move; I peeked out the doors. Doug was gone, and there was no one in the
park. I began to walk home, taking the long route along the lake. I had to
think. I saw so much today. My brother... He... Those men... I mean, this
wasn't just a one-time thing. He.. he was like.. addicted?

When I got home, the house was quiet. A note on the kitchen simply said,
"Home late - 365 for 45"

I looked in the fridge, and there was a casserole waiting. I realized how
hungry I really was. I turned on the stove, and sat at the counter. There
was no other sound; just me, the crackle of the rickety oven, and my
thoughts.

The oven beeped, I put in the casserole, and decided I needed a shower.

Under the stream of hot water, all the images of today filled my mind. I
pictured each one; each man. The grunts. The... cum. I felt myself getting
hard again. I felt the pressure from the water on my back. My soapy hands
slid down my body, and made contact. I shut my eyes, the images of those
men in front of my brother. I couldn't help it. I began to pump my dick. My
left hand pressed against the wall, holding myself up. I couldn't stop. My
mind went back to each one of the orgasms; each time Doug took a man's
seed. The feelings took over. I pumped harder, faster. I slammed my eyes
shut, and my dick took over. I felt everything from the day come to a
point. My balls got tight. My knees started to buckle; it was happening. In
a wave of pleasure, my body shook; pulse after pulse of my own orgasm
finally released. I couldn't help it. I moaned loudly as it happened. Low
in my throat, it just escaped.

Best orgasm of my young life. It wasn't until the water began to grow cold
that I realized how much time had passed.

I ate alone, clicking through the channels. Doug hadn't come home yet. But,
he left before me?

Around 8, I heard the familiar sounds of Doug's stomp as he climbed the
front steps with his bike. I didn't look when he came in; I
couldn't. Everything I knew about my brother had changed; I had... jerked
off to him. Over him. Because of him. Everyone of my sexual thoughts now
had his face in it. I felt myself blush. Nope, can't look at him.

"Dinner?" He asked. I clicked the channel.

"Kitchen. Mom's Sheppard's Pie." I croaked out. My voice hasn't cracked in
months!

I passed the kitchen quickly as I headed to my room. I couldn't face
him. He didn't even look at me. He was too busy shoveling a scoop onto a
plate.

It was 3 days before I saw him again. He was left for school early, and
picked up some shifts at the diner where he worked sometimes. I tried the
restroom after school once, but no one showed up. Well, some guy showed up,
but it was clear he needed the stall for it's intended purpose. I left
quickly.

On Wednesday, Mom asked me to hang out until Doug got home. We ordered a
pizza, and when he set down his bike, Mom convinced him to stay in the
kitchen. She had some news.

"Big news," she chanted. "Aunt Sarah is coming for the week!"

Doug looked at me, and I felt my face get hot. We knew what this
meant. "But Ma... I'm like, 16 now, almost 17... I can't.."

But she wasn't having it. "Look, you LOVE Auntie Sarah! I think you can
handle it for ONE week."

Doug slumped back in his chair. You see, when we had visitors, he had to
give up his room, his bed, and come back into my room. When Dad was alive,
we shared my room, and that was back when we were still friends. When Dad
left, mom turned the extra room from the office/workout/phone call room,
into Doug's 'teenager haven'.

For the next 6 days, we were roomies again. He wasn't happy. To be honest,
neither was I. I mean, I jerk off every night lately, and wake up with a
hard on every morning. I'm not sure I want him to be around for that. And
then thinking of what he did last week...

I blushed. I was getting hard, right there in the kitchen! Good thing I was
sitting down.


Nothing more had to be said. Doug bitched to Mom about his space and his
stuff, and she urged him to be flexible. I laughed, thinking about what
that could mean.

The next night, I came home to a new set of sheets on the top bunk. MY
bunk. Mom had given him MY bunk! Whatever, I can't even.

I turned on my little tv in the room, and soon fell asleep.

I woke up to a foot on my lower bunk. My eyes adjusted to the dark, and I
couldn't believe it. I had slept through dinner, and it was already 1030pm!
I caught the naked leg of my brother as it hopped into bed. I didn't make
any noise; I'm sure he thought I was still asleep.

The channel on the TV changed. Doug had the remote now, too. He turned it
to an infomercial, and the volume lowered to a whisper. Did he still sleep
with the TV on?

As my eyes adjusted to the room, I noticed that there was a new pile of
clothes on the floor, including some bright blue underwear, jeans, a shirt,
and a sock. Was he.. naked up there? My dick responded immediately. I
strained to listen. While there was nothing at first, I soon felt the bed
shimmer a little. Then, a bit more. Was he getting comfortable, or was
he... jerking off?

I didn't breathe, but my dick was tight in my jockeys. I had to know. He
wasn't making any noises now, and the bed stopped. Nope, he's asleep. The
light snoring started. But I was still hard.

I pulled down my jockeys to let my own cock free. Thankfully, this bunk was
where I stored my hand lotion. I reached to the wall, and puled out the
familiar pump. This wouldn't take long, as I could only think about my own
brother, naked and hard, sleeping only inches above me.

My hand wrapped around my hardness, and in no time, I was arching my back
to the soft touch of the cream. I closed my eyes and began to pump my
hips. My body began to use my hand like another person, and soon, I was
pumping into it. I could feel myself getting closer to climax as the lotion
began to dry, making some more friction for it. I felt the springs beneath
me bounce and my hips pumped my hand.

The bed began to squeak. I froze, waiting for it to settle. I could still
hear Doug's snore, and no movement. My eyes closed again, and I started to
grip harder. I pushed my cock through my hand, and felt my balls tighten. I
gritted my teeth. My ears began to pound with the sound of my heartbeat as
my hand pumped faster and faster. My mind raced to the memory of Doug
kissing that hot college guy. Then I flashed to his face. Doug's look,
after each time a man finished; on his face, in his mouth. There was a look
- a spark. I felt my own spark as I realized - his satisfaction was from
the OTHER men's orgasm.

I couldn't take it. My whole body tensed, and my hand flew up and
down. Just as I felt the first wave, Doug's voice came from above. "Dude,
are you really..."

My eyes shot open, and as the first shot of cum hit my stomach, I focused
in. Doug had hung his head over the bed, and was watching as my teen 5"
shot pump after pump of it's full day load. I couldn't speak; my inhales
were overrun by the feeling of the orgasm. My eyes looked directly at him;
his initial look of annoyance and disgust turned to a smirk. He was now
entertained by how I was at the mercy of my orgasm.

The pulses and waves subsided, and I was finally able to break eye
contact. I looked briefly down at my junk, my hand and tummy covered in
white sticky fluid. I reached for my hidden cum towel, and wiped up a bit.

When I turned back, Doug was still there, his head stopped over the edge of
the bunk bed. I looked up at him. He was smiling like he knew something I
didn't. I felt frustrated. No, I felt angry. For years, he wouldn't let me
NEAR him or his stuff I haven't even seen inside his room for months. And
now, he was perving on ME, jerking off. I felt like I needed to show him he
didn't have the right. Then it hit me.

I looked directly at him. An evil grin escaped my lips. I paused, then, as
I pulled up my jockeys and my blanket, I asked, "Enjoy the show?"

His own smirk faded, and his face went white. I turned to my side, now eyes
closed and facing the wall. There was no need for me to see him. From the
immediate reaction, I knew he got it. And now he knew. I held all his
secrets. I knew what he did after school. Before school. How he could
afford new shoes and the BMX.

I listened as he rustled back into bed. I heard as he silently slammed his
fist on the mattress. I fell asleep to silence. I imagined him laying
there, eyes wide open. I slept very well that night.

When I woke up, he was gone. All his clothes were missing, and his backpack
was off the chair. He had already left. There was no hurry for me, so I
made pop tarts and walked to school like normal. I didn't see him in the
halls, but his bike was locked on the rack. Plus, if he skipped, Mom would
know.

I didn't see him after school either, but Mom set martial law; we were to
be home every day for dinner with Aunt Sarah. That meant at 6pm, we were
face to face, across the table. He had no choice but to look at me. Auntie
Sarah rattled on, telling us all about her adventures; I would smile and
nod, each time, watching Doug stare at his plate.

When the time came, I showered quickly, and decided to wear only my joggers
to bed. I turned out the light, and began to drift.

Doug crept in about an hour later. Mom had let him stay up with her and
Auntie, and when he came in, the light from the hall shone directly in my
face. I didn't move, even though it woke me up. When the bright light
dimmed, I peeked. I watched Doug slowly, quietly, take off his clothes. He
searched for his own pajama bottoms, moving pile after pile of his
clothes. He was naked, and I could see the pale silhouette of his body. I
watched, getting harder every second, and he stretched and bent to find
clothes. He gave up quickly, not finding anything suitable to wear. I
watched his flat stomach approach the bed, his softness below swaying back
and forth. His leg lifted to the step on my bunk, and I could smell the
fresh scent of soap. He was showered and clean, and I was hard as hell for
him.

I listened as he lay in bed, his legs sliding under the sheets. Then,
silence.

"Doug..." I whispered. At first, I didn't think he heard me.

I was just about to speak again, when he whispered, "Yeah, Dade?"

I found myself speechless. I wasn't sure what to say. My hands went to my
cock, rubbing lightly. This time, it wasn't for anything sexual. For
whatever reason, it just made me feel relaxed.

"What?" He said again, this time with some actual voice. The whisper was a
formality, really. No one could hear us.

I coughed, then sighed. "I.." What do I say? "I'm... I... like guys too."

Silence. I looked up at the mattress above me. No movement. No sound. The
clock glowed, ticking, a full minute. Then another.

"Did... you hear me?" I pleaded.

"Yeah." He said.

More of nothing. More minutes passed.

Finally, he spoke. "I'm... I wasn't sure how to talk about this."

I nodded. I wasn't either. "Doug. You like, did stuff. I didn't mean to
perv... but you... you didn't stop."

"Don't talk about that. Please-" he was pleading. "No one can know about
that."

I hesitated. This wasn't where I wanted this to go. I just wanted... I
don't know what I wanted.

"Doug," I shuddered a bit, "I'm just trying to say, like. I get it. I am
the same as... the same as you."

It was getting hard to speak. My throat caught with my words. I felt the
tears well up. I sniffled.

Doug flipped off the bed, still naked, and got down to his knees. His face
was close to mine, and he whispered, "Ok, buddy. It's ok."

Then he hugged me. I mean, He really hugged me. I felt my upper body pulled
into his. His chest was warm, and my head fit into his shoulder. I didn't
mean to cry. I wrapped my arms around him. I could smell his soap, mixed
with his own scent. I felt myself start to get hard, and tried to pull
away. He held tight.

"Dade, I'm still kinda... figuring it all out. But I... like guys too."

He wrapped around me, and I could feel his hands rub on my back. It did
nothing to help me. I was now twisted, my pardon poking clearly through the
sheets. Once more I tried to pull away.

"Doug...uh..." I coughed. He pulled back, and I saw it. He was hard as a
rock, his own erection sticking straight out into the night. I didn't say
anything, but he knew I saw.

"Looks like we both have the same issues, hey, buddy?" He laughed. I looked
at him, and watched in awe as his hand left my back, and rested on top of
the tent in my sheets. He was.. touching me.

A moment passed, and we pulled away. I wasn't sure how to react, and he
didn't do anything more. He fell backward, Indian style, with no effort to
cover up.

"Where do we go now?" He asked, quietly. "Have you ever, you know, done
stuff?"

I shook my head, and sat up, Indian style as well. He had tried to make me
feel better. He had... dropped his guard. I let the sheets fall away, and
he watched as my own hard-on was exposed.

He began to tell me about how he discovered the restroom. How he really did
just go one day to pee. How a man in his 40's offered him 10 dollars to see
him get hard. How the man gave him another $20 to taste Doug's dick. How
for the first time, he came inside someone's mouth.

My mind raced as I compared my own experience. How similar they were. How
hard I was. We both were. Something would have to be done about it, if I
was gonna get any sleep.

As if reading my mind, Doug spoke again. "Look, I gotta get some sleep,
but.. uh, little Doug here needs to get off first. It's gonna sound weird,
but, I mean, since we both know all this stuff..."

My jaw dropped. Was he...

"...can I uhm, you know. Taste it?"

I didn't speak. I didn't move. He reached up, separating my legs. His hands
slid up my thighs, and I felt his warmth. With no delay, his mouth slid
onto my cock. I inhaled sharply, and my own arms went to my face. My OWN
BROTHER was sucking me off. I felt my eyes roll back in my head as his wet
tongue slid up and down my shaft. He was as good as I thought, and in no
time, I was tapping his shoulder. He pulled a hand down to his own cock,
and his other pushed against my chest. I felt the pressure of his arm as he
held me against the wall, his head bobbing harder and faster, and his other
arm pumping fast and hard.

I couldn't hold back. My breathing stopped, my back arched, and my dick
began to shoot. Pulse after pulse, right into the back of his warm
throat. He didn't pull away; he just slid back as my load coated his
insides. I finally exhaled, and my back relaxed.

Doug grunted, his voice still muffled by my dick, still hard in his
mouth. I focused on him, my hands now running through his hair. He was
pumping hard, and fast, his own cock below the mattress. I wanted to see
him cum!

"Doug," I begged, "Doug, please... cum on me. Let me see it.."

I looped my hands under his armpits and pulled. I wasn't strong, but I
needed him to come up.

His face pulled from my dick and he looked up at me. Our eyes met. "Show
me, please?" I repeated.

He stopped his jerking long enough to stand up. His knees folded on either
side of my hips. His ass came down on me, and my cock, now softening, was
angled under his ass. He was tall, so he bent down, arching his head. I
pulled it to my shoulder, and there he was, his body now on top of mine,
his hand back at his cock.

I could feel the heat from his breath as he panted with each pump. His fist
was pulling and pumping so fast now, I could tell he was close. "I'm.. a
shooter... Dade..." He panted.

He wasn't lying. With no other warning, the first shot of his load hit
me. Volley after volley hit my face, the wall, my hair. I wanted to watch,
but the shots forced my eyes closed. I could smell the faint hint of bleach
and iron, a smell that only cum can make. I heard him groan, his ass
grinding the whole time. I couldn't move, as his body was fully on me, and
his chest had collapsed into me. My hands were at his hips, and I smirked,
thinking for a moment that this is what fucking might be like.

He untwisted from me, flipping his leg over, and releasing his weight from
my torso. I could feel dripping of cum on my hair and cheek. I wiped a bit,
sneaking a taste. It was good. I mean, really good. Like vanilla. Mine
never tasted like that.

He looked at me, his own body now relaxed on the bed. "You're a mess."

I swiped another trail of cum from my chest, and flicked it at him. He
laughed. "Well, it's your fault," I said. I pulled from the wall, my back
relaxing.

There we were, both on our backs, our legs still slightly twisted, his head
on my pillow, and my head at the foot. I was out of energy.

"Hey, uhh, Dade?" Doug asked. "Two things..."

I nodded and sat up.

"First, we really can't talk about this, to anyone, ever. You know?" His
tone was broken. He was scared.

"Oh, no shit. I know." I said, fully confident. There's NO way I would tell
anyone.

"Second.. Uhm. Do you mind, well. I mean, I don't usually get... cuddly,"
he was still stammering. "But, you're my brother, and... well, what we did
was... it was more than just some guy in a stall.. you know?"

I nodded, but I wasn't sure what he was getting to.

"So, can I... You wanna bunk with me tonight?" His eyes shimmered when I
crawled up to him.

We used my sheets to wipe off, and he popped up to his bunk. I followed
behind him. We fell asleep, his body cupped around me.

The morning came fast. He was awake when my eyes opened. He spoke,
quietly. "If last night was a mistake, tell me now, and I'll never-"

I stopped him with a hand over his mouth. My hand reached down to his, and
I put it to my own hard-on. "I wanted it. I wanted you. I always have," I
said.

He began to rub me up and down, and I felt my body shiver, but I had to get
this out. "I hate that you became a cool teen, and you cut me out. But, I
think, this was why."

He nodded, and I actually smiled. His face looked funny with my hand over
his mouth, so I pulled it away. He took the opportunity to speak. "You're
great, Dade. I just didn't know how you - how we'd - get on after you knew
these things."

We began to jerk each other off. His load came quickly, and he used the
wetness and lubrication. I had never felt something so amazing in my life.

When the week was over, and Aunt Sarah left, Doug returned to his room. I
worried that things would change, but at about 10pm that night, there was a
knock at my door. I was naked, in my top bunk. "Yeah?" I asked.

Doug peeked his head in. "Hey, Uh. I have a queen sized bed. It's kinda
lonely in there. Wanna help me?"

I jumped down and chased him back to his room.

---

Mom never found out about the restrooms, or what Doug and I did that whole
school year. And yes, we continued to do things. He's had a boyfriend or
two, but we still made time for our own fun. He'll be 19 soon, and college
has him moving to another state. I'll miss him, but I know that he and I
will always be close. After all, he's the first (and only) man I've
fucked. You never forget your first, right? Perhaps I'll share that another
time.


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Like it? Email me.  justwriting@soniq.org