Date: Sun, 30 Aug 2015 21:12:31 +0000 (UTC) From: a4f101@yahoo.com Subject: The Manhattan Adventure Greetings, dudes. Been stroking my dick to the amazing stories on Nifty since 1999, so I figured it was about time to do my part. I've been writing dirty family stories on my Tumblr – a4f101.tumblr.com – for a few months now, and I'm sharing them here with you too. There's more there, too – more stories, from me and my likeminded buds – so come check it out. Hit the Story Time link at the top for more than 250 dirty tales, all by me, with the pics that inspired them. You can see this story, and the pic that inspired it, here: http://a4f101.tumblr.com/post/110027096069/ This story is an original work of fiction, copyright me 2015. I own it, and all legal rights to it. If you're not of legal age in your jurisdiction to be reading it, do us both a favor and come back to it when you are. Love to hear from you guys. a4f101@yahoo.com. And hey – Nifty is an incredible, free resource. Changed my life, and probably did the same for you, this amazing treasure-trove of fantasies. If you can, please support them with a donation – even just a few bucks. Nobody pays for porn anymore, sure, and that's why we keep losing incredible resources like Handjobs Magazine. Don't let the Nifty Archive be another. Somewhere out there, a kid is just discovering this site. Having his world rocked, and his dick raised. You and me, we were kids like that, once. Let's keep it going, for them and for us. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ***** My brother had been telling me I should move to New York for years now, and finally this year, I followed his advice. Three months in, I already knew it was the best decision I'd ever made. I'd gone up two steps on the career ladder, was making a whole lot more money, and life was generally more exciting, colorful, interesting than it had been in Virginia. Hank had been up here since graduating college a decade ago, trading in his football uniform for a suit and a lucrative job in banking. Now my baby brother was a fast-rising executive with a killer apartment, a wardrobe full of fine suits, and the kind of flexible schedule that had turned the expense-account lunch he'd taken me to today into an afternoon-long affair. The conversation flowed easily, with the familiarity only two brothers who've been good friends all their lives can really have. Warm, funny, connected, easy. I'd missed this, missed him, I wasn't ashamed to admit that, and maybe I'd had a martini too many, but I found myself telling him so. The big, warm grin he gave me really touched me... and maybe in a way that my subconscious wasn't ready to put into words, either. But I'd had years of practice pushing that kind of thinking down, so it was no big deal. "Damn, Scotty," he said with that big warm grin, then that look that I knew meant he had a fun idea. "You got anything big going on this afternoon?" With a few taps on our phones, we both cleared our calendars for the rest of the day. Hank signed the check, and took me on an adventure. We walked through the Village, a steady flow of easy conversation between us as he showed me the places he liked best, giving me a local's insights into this huge, sprawling town. Around 3pm, he declared it beer o'clock, so we ducked into a little place on Christopher Street for a quick refresher. It took me a few minutes to pick up on it, but the exclusively male clientele and the close attention they paid us, two big, built, pretty good-looking dudes in great suits, eventually clued me into the fact that it was a gay bar. Hank gave me a slightly bashful grin when he admitted it - not that it was a problem for me, I was proud as hell of my little bro, no matter his sexuality. He knew that. It was me that I wasn't as sure about. I'd had an idea that moving up here, single after years of a steady but staid relationship with Lisa, would be an opportunity for me, exciting in ways I was still getting comfortable with. But exciting nonetheless. I felt that same exciting energy in here, and it intrigued me. And fuck yeah, it felt good to get checked out by the other patrons. Eye-fucked, even. Gave me a bit of a pleasurable chill up my spine. We resumed our adventure, and somewhere along the way, Hank procured a fat joint from god knows where, and we toked up in a quiet part of Central Park, enjoying the springtime warmth in the air, giggling a little, reverting back to our stoner teen years for a little while. It was great, and hilarious, and we found ourselves comfortably reclined on a park bench, watching the squirrels romp, laughing our asses off. Eventually he turned to me. "Dude, let's keep the party going. I'd love to take you to this little restaurant, it's kind of my go-to place for, uh... special occasions. But the food's killer." "Special occasions, huh?" I grinned at him. "Shit, you asking me on a date, baby brother?" He gave me this slow, spreading grin that told me I'd touched on something. Something he liked. "Fuck, big guy," he said, his voice all low and deep and, fuck it, sexy. "Maybe I am. A bro-date. Perfect end to a perfect day. What do you say, big brother?" I licked my lips, suddenly dry-mouthed, feeling a strong tingle throughout my lower belly, my groin, a warm sensation of excitement flow through me. Found myself slowly nodding. "Why the fuck not?" I grinned. "Let's see what kind of game little bro has." He chuckled, slapped me on the back, following it with a slow, kind of intimate rub that made me flush all over. And then the whole vibe shifted to something even deeper, more exciting, and just like that, I was on a date with my bro. And damn, he was good at this. The restaurant was as promised, small and intimate and low-lit, plate after plate of great French food. I even ate dessert, something I was usually careful about in my mid-30s, but I told myself it was the lingering effects of the weed. The whole time, I was almost entranced by Hank. This was a new side I was seeing, the same things I usually loved about my brother, but with a kind of... intimacy overlaid, a certain intent. He was romancing me, alright, like a masculine dude would do another dude, I guessed, but romancing me all the same. Even though we were brothers. Fuck... maybe because we were brothers. I don't know, all the wine and the joint and the drinks earlier in the day had my thinking a little fuzzy. But the physical contact was clear, the way our big knees brushed under the little table, and stayed there. The way his lightly, gently, but insistently rubbed up and down against mine. I was stunned to find myself with a raging hardon, and when he leaned back from the table a little to signal for the check, I saw he had one too. I was nervous as we headed back downtown. The vibe had shifted again, was quieter, but somehow more connected. We kept looking at each other, smiling. His hand brushed mine at one point, and I wanted more than anything to reach out and grab it. Hold it, like I'd seen other gay couples doing in this amazing city. Fuck... other gay couples. What was I thinking? We were brothers, we couldn't... "Bro," he said, interrupting my thoughts. Crosby Street was quiet, and his loft was nearby. "I wanna tell you... I'm having a great time. You're a damn fine date, big brother." "Yeah, little bro?" I said. We were under the scaffolding of another big-bucks building renovation, nobody else around. His eyes sparkled in the dim street light. "I gotta say, your game is strong. I can see why you do so well with the fellas up here, kid." "Thanks, big bro," he grinned, subtly leaning in a little closer. "And how am I doing with you, big guy?" I swallowed hard. "Dude... fuck, Hank..." I growled. And then I just did it, leaned in and kissed him. His lips were soft, but firm. Full. Manly, but sensual. Amazing. Moving against mine, as he slipped his big younger arm around my waist and pushed me against the construction hoarding, and kissed me back. Harder, deeper, beautifully. I could feel our rock-hard brother cocks straining to get at each other through our pants, bumping and slowly grinding as we grunted, and kissed, tasting each other's tongues for the first time ever. It was so fucking wrong, but so right at the same time. I'd wondered about this most of my adult life. About how it would be to be with my studly, confident little jock brother this way. And now it was fucking happening. I don't recall much about getting up to his sprawling loft, lit only by the city lights spread out below, just the intense, sexual energy between us. Between us brothers. How he kicked the door closed behind him and we were back into it, moaning, kissing, struggling out of our clothes, ties and shirts and undershirts and pants flying. Until we were down to our underwear, him in designer trunks that looked fucking amazing on his thickly-muscled, ex-footballer body, me just in some Calvins that he murmured appreciatively over as he ran his big paws over them, before kissing me again. "Fuck, Scotty," he moaned, "you got no idea the thing I've had for you, brother." I moaned back and kissed him hard, and all I remember about our underwear coming off was the sudden throb of his big, hard cock against my hairy, muscled thigh, the feel of us naked, locked tight in a deep, wet kissing embrace. We both still had our socks on as we tumbled into his big bed, even as he laid back, pulling his big brawny thighs up, opening himself to me with a loving, hungry smile that made my heart thump for him. I entered him tentatively at first, worried about how he'd take my big cock, but with a little work, it slid inside him like it was always meant to be there. And slowly, deeply, tenderly, I made love to my baby brother, my sexy bigshot executive stud of a little bro, fucked years of repressed feelings between us up into him with the tremendous load I shot. The first load of that long, sweet, achingly hot night. Around midnight, we were sprawled all over each other, laughing like idiots as we passed another joint back and forth. We touched each other's bodies in ways we'd always wanted, and now could. Kissed. Told each other the fantasies we'd had, realized the literal dozens of opportunities we'd missed over the years. How close we could have come. But the way we'd got to this point, well, it just felt right. Perfect. An incredible end to an amazing day. "You know, bro," he said, "I hope just because I put out on the first date, doesn't mean you won't be back for a second one." I chuckled, then saw the intent behind his big smile. And tingled all over again. We both saw my cock stir at the thought. Us. Brothers, dating. Exploring this thing between us even more. Seeing where it led us to. The biggest adventure of all. I leaned in and kissed him, slower, softer, less heat, more passion. "Baby bro," I murmured between soft kisses, "you're the most amazing guy I know. We'd be crazy not to give it another shot, stud." He smiled, and kissed me back, and this time, it went deeper. A lot deeper. We rolled together, naked, hard, brothers aching to get closer to each other, and made love all over again, the city spread out all around us, lighting the way.