Stress Relief

By Stephen Scott

Note: If you enjoyed this story, please contact me at

And a no-prize if you recognize the name.

It's been a tough day. A grueling, mind-numbing, I-need-this-done-yesterday kind of experience. All you want is to get home, loosen your tie, and find some relaxation.

Then you remember: you're baby-sitting your kid brother. Shit.

You think of the boy, and as you picture him your resentment gives way to something else, something much more agreeable.

Your brother Kenny. Yeah. The kid could be a big help this afternoon. Just have to approach him the right way.

Your groin tingles.

You grin, turning off the main road and heading home.

A few minutes later you're standing in the small living room, leafing through the mail. You hear your young brother pad into the room and imagine the boy's open smile of welcome. But you have a plan to undertake, and that involves being as cool as cool can be.

You barely acknowledge the kid's puppy-like attention, murmuring an on-committal greeting. Out of the corner of your eye you notice the boy's crest-fallen look. Kenny is so damn eager to please.

Well, you think, suppressing a smile, that's on the agenda too.

"You start dinner?" you ask, leafing through mail you aren't remotely interested in.

The boy perks up.

"Dinner?" he asks, startled.

"Yeah. Dinner," you snap.

The look on Kenny's young face is priceless. You see utter confusion. Good.

"When I left this morning I told you to take the steak out of the freezer. I told you when it thawed you should stir-fry it so we could eat when I got back."

Kenny's look is blank, and a little scared. You can see his mind whirring, wondering if he's going crazy.

"I don't remember--you said that? I--I really don't remember."

You grunt, giving him a sour look.

"I suppose you expect me to take you out to dinner again. Mom and Dad didn't give me any money to look after you, you know. I'm not made of the stuff."

Actually, you have plenty, but you're not letting him know that.

"No!" the boy rushes to reassure you. "We can eat in. I--I can make--"

"Too late to thaw that steak now. Shit. I wish you'd listen to me when I tell you something. I guess now we'll have to go out."

The boy is blushing furiously, abashed at having let you down. You sit on the couch and untie your shoes, deliberately not looking at him.

"I--I'm sorry," he blurts out. You grunt again. "Can I make it up to you?"

You look up at him. This is where the dance has been heading ever since you started it.

"Hm. Maybe."

He kneels at your feet.

"I'll do anything!" he gushes.

Kenny's such a sweet boy--can't bear the idea he's disappointed his beloved older brother.

You realize how dopey that would sound to anyone who didn't know the situation. But, even though you're 12 years older than your brother, you're more like a father to him--especially since your own father can't be bothered to give the poor kid the time of day.

Kenny idolizes you, and that thought sends a pang through your heart. You almost feel guilty for what you're doing.


You stare at your kid brother's sweet, trusting face. Damn, but he's cute, you think. Fifteen years old and as hot a little monkey as you've ever seen.

You've also seen something else: the boy's collection of gay porn, secreted under his mattress. You never mentioned it. You were waiting for the opportunity to use your knowledge, to your advantage--

And to his.

That's one of the reasons the little twinge of regret you felt for luring the kid into this disappears as quickly as it came. He's gonna enjoy this every bit as much as you will.

You cock an eyebrow at him.

"Anything, huh?"

Kenny nods vigorously.

"Anything at all! Just ask!"

You pretend to think, kicking off your shoes.

"All right, then. You can--uh--massage my feet."

You lean back on the sofa and stick out your legs. Kenny looks confused for a moment before his easy smile reasserts itself and he takes your sock-feet in his hands and begins manipulating them gently.

"Does that feel good?" he asks, bending your toes up with a delicate touch.

Does it ever. It's relaxing and stimulating at the same time. You moan softly, and the boy bends to his task. He kneads and fondles, folds and caresses your feet, and you become more excited.

"Yeah, kid," you moan softly. "Do my legs, too."

The boy pauses, uncertain, for a moment. Then you feel his sure hands roam up your thighs.

You shudder, gasp lightly, and give into the warm, sexy feeling as his slender fingers caress and knead your muscled legs.

Kenny is seated between your thighs and when you open your eyes partway you can see his determined young face bent to the task. You glance down between the boy's legs and notice a definite tenting at his young crotch.

But the bulge in your own lap is much bigger than that.

Slowly, inexorably, you close your legs, scissoring them to trap the adolescent boy in a tight grip.

He gasps, looks up at your face.

You smile.

"You can do better than that, can't you?" you purr.

He looks confused.

You sigh, as though explaining a simple math problem to a child.

"There are other muscles you could massage, you know."

He starts. You smile to yourself. Light has begun to dawn.

You take his hands and place them on your hardness.

The boy jerks. You told his hands tightly. He relaxes.

"Right there," you whisper.

Your eyes lock onto his. He blushes.

"Um--" he stammers.

You rock your hips gently, pushing the bulge against his hands.

"You want to make it up to me, right?" you smile. "You want me to be relaxed?"

He nods.

You unzip your pants and pull them down, taking your under-shorts along. Your hard bone pops up, the head glistening.

The boy stares at it. Despite the porn mags you've found under his mattress, you're pretty sure Kenny has never seen a real one, up close, erect and waiting.

"Touch it," you whisper. This is more than a mere sex-game now. You're so turned on at the thought your adoring younger brother is so close to your dick you can barely speak. Your cock throbs, the pre-cum pulsing out of the slit.

Kenny looks up at you, his eyes glistening, his face a mask of conflicting emotions: fear, pleasure, guilt, and intense desire.

"C'mon, baby," you purr. "You want it. Take it."


You reach out a hand and grip his shoulder gently.

"Kenny, I've seen your stash. I know what you want. And now you know what I want. We both want the same thing. Take it."

Kenny reaches for you. Reverently, trembling.

You lean back and close your eyes.

His fingers close gingerly along your cock-shaft, and your body tenses. Your breath catches. You moan softly. His touch is incredibly sweet.

The boy needs no instruction. He's been handling his own meat for some time now, and he knows what feels good. He strokes your shaft, his grip sliding up and down, from the base of your cock to just below the head. You groan, and your ass pushes deep into the cushion.

"Yeah, baby," you coo. "That's it."

Emboldened, the boy's free hand cups your balls and rolls them around in its palm, measuring the size and heft of your fat eggs.

It feels so fucking good.

You slowly open your eyes and smile at him.

"Lick it, Kenny. Please."

The teen's inhibitions are slipping away. He looks into your eyes, nods once, and moves his head toward the cock in his hand. He sticks out his tongue and its warm wetness assails you as he licks upward from the base of your hard-on. His tongue moves over the shaft and you feel it slide along the crown where the pre-cum is collecting.

You suck in your breath as he slips up and over the head, tasting your essence, letting it dribble over his tongue. And in a moment he's kissing the tip, rolling his tongue over it, getting it thoroughly wet.

You don't have to tell him to suck you. He's beyond teaching.

Your dick slips into his mouth and he bathes you with saliva. Before you know it, he's sucking you like a pro--even trying to get you deep into his throat. He's not ready for that, of course--his gag-reflex is too untested--but he's doing everything else as though it's second nature to him. Guess he's learned a few things from reading those fuck books you found under his bed.

You're pumping your hips now, an involuntary reaction to your brother's hot cock-sucking. He's purring deep in his throat, and the vibrations tickle your dick-shaft so you can barely stand it.

You take his head in your hands and gently lift him off. He looks up in dismay. You smile at him.

"You weren't doing anything wrong, baby. God! You were doing great! I just don't wanna cum yet."

You ruffle his hair and he smiles gratefully.

"Come here, Kenny."

He climbs up on your lap and you take him in your arms.

"I love you, little brother."

He lays his head on your chest and a deep sigh shudders through his body.

"I love you so much!" he cries, throwing his arms around you as you stroke his silky dark hair.

You can feel his young cock pushing against your own hard-on, and it feels good. Feels right. You turn your face to his, close your eyes, and kiss his lips.

He melts into you, his mouth reacting greedily to yours. You stroke his back and arms as his kisses you back, a passionate, full-lipped, open-mouthed kiss of utter adoration.

You grab his legs and bring them up, the thighs straddling your body. His round butt now sits on your lap, and you move your hips until your naked cock nestles between his warm butt-cheeks, so nicely defined by his soft, loose trousers.

You realize he's not wearing any underpants. The little dog!

He sighs, opens his eyes, and stares into your face.

"I want you."

Such a simple statement, but what worlds it contains! How it changes everything between you!

And now it pours out of him, in a heated rush.

"I've wanted you forever! I've wanted this so much! Wanted to feel your arms around me, wanted to kiss you, wanted to touch you--all over!"

You quiet him with a soft kiss and he lays his head on your chest once more. You can feel his heart beating wildly against you. You gently rub his back, assuring him you aren't going any place.

You hold him close and lift him up, carrying him like a bride. You lower him to the floor and lay atop him, kissing his sweet, soft lips. You kiss his ears, pausing to nibble their lobes. You lick his neck, moving downward. Your fingers reach beneath his shirt to tweak his nipples, which harden at your ministrations.

His head is thrown back and he's moaning. His body is tensed, arcing toward you. You unzip his trousers, pulling them down to his thighs and freeing his cock. He groans loudly as you take it in your hands and caress it, lean down to kiss it, take it into your mouth and savor the driblets of sweet-salty boy-juice leaking from the head.

You want the blowjob to go on and on, but you remember how young he is--how this is his first time--and you know he won't be able to take much more without blasting off. And you don't want that. Not yet.

You grab his hips and pull him up.

He's putty in your hands.

You turn him around and set him on his knees. His cute, hairless butt is up in the air and you grab the cheeks roughly. You lick them, kiss them, nip them. He's pushing his beautiful young ass back at you and you part the cheeks and push your face between them.

You dive straight for the center of his asshole. Normally, you'd go more slowly, savor the way the flesh changes on your tongue as you near the prize. But you're impatient today.

You want to get to the main event.

When your tongue moves in, past the sphincter, and you really begin to eat him out, Kenny practically hits the ceiling. He gasps, his body writhes, and he pushes back at you, desperate to get more and more of your tongue as you lick his hole.

You're so turned on eating his butt your cock hurts. You could slip your tongue in and out of his teenaged bunghole all day, but stop long enough to ask for what you've wanted all along.

"Kenny?" you whisper, caressing his pliant bottom.

He groans an answer.

"You've never--I mean--no one's ever fucked you before, right?"

The boy shakes his head in negation.

"You think about it?"

He nods yes.

"You ever put anything up there? Like a toy, or your fingers?"

"My--my fingers. A few times."

"It hurt at all?"

Another shake.

"You want to get fucked by a guy?"

Another nod.

"You want me to fuck you, baby?"

The boy's response is something between a moan and a scream.

"Pleeeeeeeeeease ..."

He's so sexy, with his pants clinging to his thighs and his hairless butt thrust up--waiting, willing--wanting.

You sit up on your knees and reach beneath the couch and retrieve the packet of rubbers and the tube of K-Y you keep hidden there for living-room emergencies. Your cock is throbbing so wildly you can barely get the condom over the pre-cum leaking tip and unroll it along the twitching shaft.

You're staring at this boy's luscious, incredible ass in awe. You've never fucked a boy before--you've never had a virgin. Don't move too fast, you tell yourself, no matter how much your want to plug his hot butt.

You squirt a glob of lube on your fingers. With your free hand you pat his buns and part them reverently. Your brother's hairless hole, damp from your oral ministrations, winks as the sphincter tenses and relaxed in anxious anticipation. You press your gooey fingers against it, gently rubbing until the lips open and your fingertip slips inside.

Kenny groans as your first knuckle passes the sphincter. It clamps down, then relaxes as you tease the muscle, poking your finger in and out, twisting around inside his heat.

"More?" you ask softly.

He nods.

You move your finger deeper, impressed that he's so relaxed already. You fuck him with it, slowly, moving in and out.

"You know what your prostate is, Kenny?"

"Sure--" he growls throatily, lost in a haze of lust. "We studied sex this year."

Your finger slides upward, searching for the knot of pleasure.

"You ever hear how good it feels when you touch it?"

A headshake.

"When you're beatin' off and you come, you notice something throbbing inside you?"

A nod.

"That's the prostate pumpin'. It's why it feels so good to come."

You find it. And Kenny's entire body seizes up as you rub it gently. Little brother has discovered a fact of life they don't teach you in sex-ed. He moans, his anus squeezing and relaxing as you stroke his pleasure-button.

"Oh! Oh! It feels so good!"

"Feels even better when a cock rubs against it," you rasp. "Can you take two fingers?"

Another nod.

You withdraw your finger and add a second, pushing them in gently, letting him get used to their width before slowly beginning to fuck him, gradually going deeper, pushing harder, reaching further.

Kenny gasps, moans, cries out, pushes his hips back, begins to meet your rhythms.

You think he's ready.

"I'm gonna fuck your now," you tell him softly. "Relax, baby. Just stay relaxed. I won't go too fast. I won't hurt you."

You slick up your rubber-sheathed cock, watching as his bare ass sways, glistening. It's the most exciting thing you've ever seen.

You scoot forward, aiming your hard-on at his lubed-up pucker. You place one hand on his right butt-cheek, pulling it outward as the tip of your cock kisses the boy's rosebud.

You lean over him, kiss his neck.

"Relax, baby. It'll help if you push your asshole out."

You push, and the lips part, taking the tip. When you meet no resistance you feed him a little more. Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, you move inside until the head is fully embedded and his sphincter clamps on it, making you groan unabashedly.

You pat his butt reassuringly.

"That's it, baby. The hard part's done. The head's inside you. Do you like it, Kenny? Does it feel good?"

The boy nods, and you take hold of his upper thigh and begin to push your hips, watching in awe as the shaft slides in.

Kenny raises his head off the floor, his big eyes shining. Even though he's acquiesced through the entire process, he isn't 100 per cent sure about this. At first he said yes to please his brother. But it's too late to say no. Your cock is already moving inexorably up his rectum.

And it does feel good. Incredibly good. The person he loves most in the world is performing the act he's dreamed so long about. The boy's cock, which has inflated and deflated as anxiety has warred with desire, is now rigid. It's harder than it's ever been before. He loves this.

You reach beneath him and feel his hard-on trembling under your fingers. It makes you feel good to give Kenny so much pleasure. You feel a throb of love for this boy fill your chest. This started out as something pretty damn selfish. A way to get a quick fuck from a willing sex-slave. But now--now it's become something else. An act of love.

For the first time you see Kenny not as just your annoying little brother, but as someone worthy of everything he so blindly gives to toy: your respect, your devotion--your love. Your single-minded, selfless love.

You possess him fully now, his entire being given over to you. You determine to make this the most pleasurable experience of his young life. You know he won't last long--he's too young, too excited, too inexperienced. And you can feel your own aching release becoming more certain.

So you ratchet up the motions. And as you begin to fuck the boy in earnest, you stroke his cock from base to tip. You rub the pre-cum gathered there over the crown, sliding your fingertip in the sexy boy-juice. Your cock-head glances against his prostate. He shouts out in ecstatic response.

It doesn't take long.

After a few moments of your gentle stroking, the boy's body tenses up, his breathing becomes labored, and he cries out as your hand is covered with his hot cum.

His sphincter clamps down and loosens rapidly, and that's all it takes.

You cum.

You cum in a geyser, your cock shoved as far as it can reach, your body drenched in pleasure.

When it's over and your bodies are heaving, your breath coming out in labored gasps, you fall on top of him and he sinks to the floor. You briefly think about all the sweet boy-cum soaking your carpet, but you don't care. You'll clean it up later.

Your cock is still embedded in the boy's furrow. You're kissing his neck, his ears, his cheek.

Abruptly, he moves beneath you, maneuvering his body so he's facing you. Your cock disengages and lies against his thighs and you feel his softening cock against your belly. His arms pull you close and his lips devour yours.

"I love you. I love you. I love you," he moans between deep, passionate kisses.

A massive pang seizes your heart and you hold him in a death-grip as you kiss him back.

"I love you, too, Kenny. I love you, little brother. I love you."

Your brain races, and you begin to think of ways to get the boy away from your unfeeling parents, who don't give a damn if the kid lives or dies.

Because you do. You suddenly care more than you've ever cared about anything before.