Date: Sun, 6 Jan 2019 00:04:42 -0600 From: gwen uni Subject: Alf by Cutter09 gay adult/youth Please remember to donate to Nifty. The thousands of stories availble for your reading pleasure is provided by Nifty, so give a little and get a lot. Cutter09 Alf by Cutter09 My best friend's dad and my dad were partners in a very successful medical practice. They had been friends since elementary school, and even built their homes next door to each other. It was almost expected that Stan and I would become friends, too. Fortunately, we did. Stan is actually named Stanford, after the university. His dad, George, had planned on him attending there since before he was born. Eventually he would make that a reality. As you can imagine, Stan and I were inseparable, spending all our time together in school, weekends, family vacations, etc. When we were in seventh grade, his parents divorced. We knew it was because of his father's extra-marital dalliances. But probably his mom wasn't innocent either. She quickly hooked up with someone else and left Stan with his dad. By that summer, his dad remarried, to one of the nurses in the clinic who had been a prime suspect in the divorce. Stan hadn't been taking the divorce and remarriage of his parents well. While his dad was away on the honeymoon, Stan and I stayed at his house, and Stan decided to raid his father's liquor cabinet. A couple of drunk thirteen-year-olds can get into a lot of mischief, and we were no exception. We had, of course, seen each other naked throughout our lives, so that wasn't unusual. As best friends, we knew everything about each other, including the fact that we both wanted to rid ourselves of our virginity. Not many thirteen-year-olds get to do that though. So, it came to pass that we decided to blow each other, just to see what it was like, and so we wouldn't be so nervous when we actually got a chance for sex with a girl. We already knew my dick was noticeably larger than his, and I had a little more hair. I had started shooting cum a couple of months before him, too. Even after deciding to do it, we giggled and hesitated before getting down to the business of sucking dick. Neither of us wanted to seem anxious to do it, so we elected to do it at the same time. We lay on his bed in the classic 69 position, and on the count of three, took the other's dick in our mouths. We giggled on each other's cock for a minute, then finally got serious. I don't know what Stan was thinking about, or even what he was doing to me. All I could do was concentrate on sucking my friend's dick as best I could. I took all of it in, 'til his balls were mashed against my nose. I heard him moan, so I repeated it several times. Then I paid special attention to the bell knob, swirling my tongue around it. This, too, made him moan loudly. It wasn't long before I felt his dick throb, so I took it all the way in, and he unloaded in my throat. I don't know if that is what caused it, but I instantly shot my own load. We didn't talk about it the rest of the night, just put on our briefs and acted like nothing was different. I don't know about Stan, but I was definitely different. I had enjoyed it immensely. The next night, without the liquid courage, I hinted at the possibility of a repeat performance. After some hemming and hawing, Stan agreed to give it a try. Again, we assumed the position, and I went to town on his dick. It wasn't long before I noticed that Stan had quit servicing me, but I didn't stop until he had given me his cum. The next night, he just asked me if I wanted to suck him. Of course, the answer was yes. I sucked him every night his dad was away, and many nights after. Soon after they returned from their honeymoon, his dad and step-mom announced her pregnancy. Our relationship didn't change, other than whenever the opportunity presented itself, I would suck his dick. During Christmas break, Michelle (step-mom) showed us a video of her latest sonogram. Stan declared the baby looked like an Alien Life Form, and the nickname Alf was born. A name that Michelle outwardly denounced, but secretly enjoyed. Stan and I insisted on calling him that over his real name. Yes, George had named the boy Harvard. We were both into sports, though Stan wasn't the 'natural talent' that our coaches decided I was. I loved all sports, but as we entered high school, I went into football, whereas Stan went for swimming and diving. High school was a blast. Football made me very popular, which meant Stan was popular too. We eventually lost our virginities, to twin sisters, after junior prom. Before that, we had relieved each other's date night tension on several occasions. Of course, I relieved him numerous more times than he did me. Being the quarterback for two state championship titles seems to draw out the scouts, and I got a full ride to a fine local college. Not that I was a bad student, quite the contrary. I just like being in my hometown. Meanwhile, Alf was growing in leaps and bounds, and followed us everywhere he could. When Stan went off to Stanford, I became Alf's stand-in brother. I really didn't mind; the little twerp had grown on me. Stan still came home on holidays and summer, and then we were inseparable again, with Alf joining us in most adventures. My athletic star continued to rise throughout college. I kept my nose clean, never a hint of improper behavior. I don't drink or do drugs of any kind. Why mess with my body when it had gotten me this far? I dated a few girls, and was never accused of rape. Stan, on the other hand, began acting oddly. I'm not sure what was troubling him because he'd never speak of it. By his junior year in college, he had become distant and would snap at me if I confronted him. I was already maneuvering to be a top draft pick; they seemed to like that I could throw an eighty-yard [73 m] bullet with pinpoint accuracy. Senior year, more accolades, and poof, huge money from the NFL. I was fortunate to get picked up by my hometown team. I was already somewhat of a celebrity, photographed with models and starlets. Alf was with me a lot and the media hashed it all out on the front page. Stan came home for a visit after his first year of medical school. I could tell he was in a bad state and tried to get him to talk about it. "Fuck you, man! I don't need your pity. Mr. Perfect. Superstar quarterback. Why do you have to be so good at everything? I haven't even had a decent blow job since you did it last. You're the best at that too." That's when I saw Alf standing in the doorway. His mouth agape at what he had heard. He looked at me, burst into tears, and ran away. I went after him, but he locked himself in the hall bathroom. "Alf. Please let me in. Let's talk. Ok?" "What the hell is going on?" Michelle asked coming up behind me. "Stan's being an ass, and Alf is upset," I explained. "You talk to Alf, I'll sort Stan out," Michelle offered. "Come on, Buddy. Let me in. Please?" I begged through the door. After a moment, I heard the lock turn. I opened the door, and a very tearful Alf threw his arms around my waist. We were still standing there, when Michelle and Stan came to the door. "I see you have this under control. We're going to get some fresh air," Michelle stated as they left. I was trying to decide what to tell Alf. He was eleven, and had probably heard the term blow job before. "Why has Stan gotten so mean? He used to be nice. I don't want to be around him if he's gonna treat you like that." I waited for him to ask if it was true, but he never did. He was only upset about Stan's behavior. Maybe Stan told Michelle the same thing he said to me. Or maybe there was something between them a long time. Either way, it appears that Stan's dick was exposed, and probably receiving oral, when their car impacted the telephone pole head on. They both died at the scene. The media frenzy revolved around me. "The devastating loss of my best friend. The heartwarming compassion for his little brother." The front-page picture was Alf holding my hand graveside, both of our heads bowed in solemn prayer. From then on, Alf was known as "The ever present protege" and I was the "Mentor of the late best friend's brother." The media ate it up. Alf's dad was devastated at the loss of his wife and son. He began drinking heavily, and basically became an absentee father. My father saw the hand-writing on the wall, and sold the clinic before his partner could ruin it. He retired and moved to Florida, leaving the house to me. I became Alf's stand in father, brother, mentor, and hero. A position I loved dearly. He was always by my side. Walking some starlet down the red carpet, or photo sessions for endorsement deals. It's like we were attached at the hip. During football season, he traveled with me and attended all the home games. He was a fixture in the locker room, as well as on the sidelines. The other players took to him, too. He was our 'behind the scene' mascot. If you're going to hang out in a locker room, nudity can't be an issue. Alf had seen more than most kids his age. One day I was in the whirlpool tub, and Alf was chatting with me, when Mendoza came in. "Man, that was a sick touchdown you made in the third quarter," he said as he passed us. "Thornton was all over you, and Pace was closing in on me. I had no choice," I yelled at his back. "Poor Mendoza," Alf said when he was gone. "Why do you say that?" I asked. "He's got the smallest dick on the team. Even mine's bigger than his." He was right, Mendoza did have the smallest on the team, I had notice that my rookie year. What I didn't know was that Alf's was bigger. I hadn't really paid attention to that area of his development. "Maybe I should say poor Mendoza's wife, instead," Alf chuckled. It's probably not that small when it gets hard," I said, trying to give Mendoza a break. "I saw him jerking off in the shower. It's small," Alf countered. "You saw him jerking off? How did that happen?" "I, uh... I was... looking for you. I thought you were in there." "Does he know you saw him?" I asked. "No. I just kinda peeked around the door into the shower." "Well, it's not polite to spy on people. You wouldn't want people to spy on you in the shower, especially if you were jerking off." I had no clue whether he jerked off or not. He obviously knew the term. Now that I thought about it, I know I did at his age. Hell, he was only a couple of months younger than Stan was the first time I blew him. I watched him closely as I stood to get out of the tub. His eyes went straight to my cock. That in itself caused it to stir. Was he just curious? I know he has seen me nude numerous times. Hell, he had seen the whole team nude. I grabbed a towel and dried off then wrapped it around my waist to hide my rising cock. He was grinning. "What's so funny?" I asked. "Nothing. I was just thinking. I'm glad you don't have the smallest one on the team." "Well, it's not the biggest, either." "No. That would be Mongo. That thing is mutant. Somebody would need a saddle to ride it." "Who are you and what have you done with the nice little boy who used to hang around with me? When did you start talking like this?" He shrugged his shoulders. I guess I can't really blame him. It's my fault he hangs around with a bunch of dim-witted, big-dicked, spoiled, jocks. "Well, Mongo better get his shit together; I was a sitting duck out there tonight. Thank god it's only preseason, but many more like that, and I'll have to retire early from injuries." School hadn't started yet, so after I got dressed we stopped at a post-game party. Booze was flowing, bimbos were circulating, just the usual crap. In the car on the way home, Alf asked, "Do you ever hook up with any of those girls?" "No. They're all trash and only out for a good time or a meal ticket." "So, you don't like to have a good time with a girl?" "What has gotten into you lately?" I asked, rather perplexed by his recent behavior. "Mostly puberty," he answered honestly. Alf hadn't been home more than a couple of times in months. Mostly he stayed with me at my house. The last time I had spoken with his father about a school matter, he said "I'm sure you can handle it." Since then I have forged his father's signature on school forms and such. Once home, we went our separate ways. Alf to his room, me to mine. My body still ached from the beating I took on the field, so I decided to use the hot tub. I stripped down to my boxers and went to the patio. I started the bubbles and pulled off my boxers. Man, I love the hot tub. I use the whirlpool in the locker room all the time, but I really love this tub. I just don't get to use it often. A minute later, Alf appears in a robe. "May I join you?" With all the bubbles, I didn't think he could see that I was nude. I assumed he had on a swimsuit. "Uh... sure. Have you ever been in a hot tub?" "I use it sometimes when you're not here," he answered. He removed his robe to reveal his own nudity. He suddenly had my undivided attention. Or at least parts of him did. I was quickly reminded of all those blow jobs I had given his brother. I was also aware that Alf was larger than his brother at that age. I am not a geneticist, but I always assumed we get our dick size from our fathers. If that is true, Michelle would have some explaining to do, if she were still among the living. I couldn't see very well, but he appeared to be about four inches [10 cm] soft. His brother was that big hard when a few months older than Alf was. He stepped into the tub, and the object of my attention disappeared below the bubbles. We sat silently, enjoying the hot bubbles caressing our bodies. "Can I ask you something?" Alf started. "Of course." "Why do you live here?" "What do you mean?" "Well, according to the internet, you're one of the highest paid athletes on the planet." "I wouldn't say that. I mean, I do alright I guess." "Besides your salary and endorsements and everything, you've invested well, and handle it all yourself. Your net worth is like a couple hundred million." "Remind me to fire whoever is spreading information." "So why do you live here? You can afford a huge house of your own." "I like it here. I grew up in this house. It holds fond memories for me." "Memories like with Stan?" he asked leadingly. "Well, partly. We had many happy times here." Alf looked at me a moment, then asked, "Did I have anything to do with you staying here?" I had to admit, that was really the only reason I stayed in that house. "Let's just say you were certainly a factor in my decision." He smiled hugely. "Would you like a cold Coke? I'm getting hot." "Yeah, that sounds good." Alf stood, proudly displaying a nice six and half inch [16 ½ cm] erection. He unhurriedly stepped out and went for the drinks. My own erection throbbed at the sight. Thank god for the bubbles. When he returned, he came right to me. Standing there a minute before handing me my Coke. I know he could see me staring at his dick, but I couldn't take my eyes off it. "The bubbles always do this to me," he explained as he sat back down. "Do they affect you the same?" he asked. I only nodded, running a playback of his dick in my head. I took a sip of my Coke, trying to settle my nerves. I don't know why I was so out of sorts. He's just a kid. A kid very similar to my first sexual experience. Even related to the person of that experience. Only much more attractive. In spite of his nickname, he no longer resembled an Alien Life Form. He was gorgeous. His body was exemplary. And now I knew he had a beautiful dick too. I had been with girls. Though I didn't enjoy it more than my experience with Stan. I had assumed I might be bi, though I had only been with Stan. I had never looked at the other players on the team and wanted to have sex with them. Now I find myself looking at my 'protege' and thinking dirty thoughts. We sipped our Cokes in silence. I knew what I was thinking about, I wondered what Alf was thinking. He finally broke the silence and bravely asked, "Can I see it?" Somehow, it didn't seem right for me to just show him my cock. I mean, how would that appear? It's not like we were playing 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours,' now, was it. I sat for a minute finishing my Coke, then I stood, displaying my thick, almost nine-inch-cock. "I think it's time for bed," I said, handing him a towel. We dried ourselves slowly. Obviously more interested in each other's dick, than in getting dry. I passed him his robe, then pulled on my boxers. "Good night, Alf," I said. My obscenely tented boxers leading me to my bedroom. I went straight into the bathroom and sat on the toilet. It took less than a minute before I pointed my cock into the bowl and unloaded. The next morning, I made Alf breakfast. He appeared in the same robe he had worn to the hot tub. I immediately wondered if he was nude beneath it. I was wearing sweatpants, and could feel my cock stir as I set a plate of bacon and eggs in front of him at the breakfast bar in the kitchen. I left a vacant stool between us as I sat with my own plate, thankful for a chance to conceal my growing excitement. Unfortunately, Alf has a habit of bouncing his leg as he eats. With his foot on the footrest around the stool, he began bouncing. I sat transfixed as the side of his robe slowly moved away, revealing at first his lower leg, then his knee. I stared as more of his leg became visible. As the robe fell away, I could see his upper leg, and creamy thigh. Agonizingly slowly, the leg band of his tight white briefs became exposed. I exhaled my long-held breath, only to discover that even the partial sight of his briefs was just as intoxicating as seeing his exposed hip would have been. "Are you even listening to me?" Alf asked. I don't know how long I had been staring. I know I was hoping he would turn a little toward me so I could see between his legs. Just a little glimpse of his package would probably have made me cum in my pants. "I'm sorry... I must have zoned out for a minute there. What were you saying?" "I said my hair has gotten pretty long but I kinda like it. What do you think?" He was right. His sun-bleached hair was touching his shoulders. The layering and natural wave gave it a messy, very sexy, look. He turned toward me, planting one foot on the floor so I could appraise his appearance. I could now see the round bulge of his nut sack clearly defined in his briefs, one completely exposed leg, and part of his other thigh where it was pressing against his underwear. Knowing what was hidden behind that underwear, only made it more enticing. My cock throbbed and wanted to tear its way out of my sweatpants. "My hair is up here," Alf reminded me. "I'm sorry. My mind is on something else." He smiled and looked down at the outline of my cock pushing against my pants. "I can see that it is," Alf said, sliding off his barstool. He scooted onto the one between us and spun toward me. The robe was now parted completely up the middle, the tie uselessly crossed his belly. The front of his briefs now completely visible, and I can see the outline of his dick as well. I watched as it came alive and grew to point upward, eventually pushing the waistband away from his belly a little. I glance at his face, and he's looking at my lap. "I think your hair looks great. But you have a few weeks before school starts to decide if you want to cut it." "Could we... um... could we use the hot tub again?" "Uh... I have a meeting with my agent and then an interview with Fox." "What's the meeting about?" Alf asked, disappointed. "Nothing, really. He just needs to make it look like he's earning his fifteen percent. My contract comes up for renewal next year. This is supposed to be a strategy meeting, but he knows I'm not going anywhere." He stands up close to me, his crotch only inches from my knee. "What if the team drops you, and somebody else offers you a lot of money?" I know he wants me to admit it. I can read it in his eyes. "Then I will have to find a way to either take you with me, or retire." His face lit up and he threw his arms around me. I could feel his erection against my leg. He felt it, too, and it throbbed. He drops his arms from around me, and his hand drags across my erection as he pulls away. It didn't seem accidental, and I let out a light moan. "Go get ready to leave while I clean up in here," I said, as I maneuvered around him. "I'll help." His help wasn't helping my erection any. He didn't bother to adjust his robe, and my eyes were drawn to his underwear constantly. He seemed to be watching my cock as well, which also didn't help. When my parents moved to Florida, I took over the master bedroom. Alf was in my old room down the hall. I jumped in the shower and wanted desperately to stroke one out, but didn't. At least my erection subsided some. I walked into the bedroom, and there was Alf standing in the doorway. "Which shirt should I wear?" he asked, holding up two. He was only wearing his briefs, his erection still prominently displayed in front. His eyes went immediately to my naked cock, which started to rise again at seeing him. "Uh... the blue one matches your eyes," I managed to choke out. He was still standing there, both of us just staring at the other. I finally said, "Did you need something else?" "No. That's all," he said, taking one last look before turning away. Jesus. I gotta get control of myself. He's my best friend's brother. Well, actually, now, I guess he's my best friend, since Stan is dead. We stick together like Stan and I did. I haven't shared all my feelings with him like I did his brother, but I really didn't have any secrets from him. Well, maybe one. How do you tell a barely thirteen-year-old who idolizes you, that you want to suck his dick? Shit! I want to suck his dick! I wonder if he can cum yet. If he can, man I bet it would be tasty. I have to stop thinking about this. The meeting and the interview went well. People don't think twice about him being with me anymore. He's like my shadow. We ate out and got home late. I didn't say anything to Alf about it, but I went to the hot tub in hopes that he might join me. I had just started the bubbles, when he came out in his robe. I casually slipped off my boxers and stepped in. His robe disappeared soon after, and he sat across from me. But not before I got a look at his dick. I just can't help it. He's so fucking cute and that dick is enticing. "We should do this more often," Alf said, as he slid lower into the bubbles. He allowed the bubbles to buoy his weight, floating with his arms and legs all akimbo. A moment later, I felt his foot brush against my balls. I didn't react, so he did it again. Still no reaction. So, he slipped his foot a little higher and found my erect cock. I laid my head back onto the padding around the tub, and closed my eyes, allowing him to explore. He did. His foot pressed my erection against my belly and slid to the end. This was definitely not accidental. His toes explored my length and girth, then back to my ball sack. "Did the bubbles do that to you?" Alf asked. "What do you think it was?" "Me." He knows what he's doing to me. "So, you're doing it on purpose?" "Yeah," he admits. "Why?" "Why do you think?" "Curiosity?" "A little, maybe. Do you remember the night Stan... died? How upset he was and yelling at you?" Of course I remember. How could I forget one of the worst days of my life? "Do you blame me for what happened?" I asked. "No. Not at all. I was just thinking about it," Alf replied. "About what you heard?" "Well, yeah, mostly." "You've never mentioned it before," I reminded. "Doesn't mean I haven't thought about it. I've always wondered about it." "Just what have you wondered about?" "Your relationship with Stan. I know you were best friends all your life, but that night... well, I realized you were more than friends. That's why I got upset." "Look, Alf, we were young kids at the time, and sometimes boys do things..." "I know. It's just that... I kinda blame myself because I was mad about you doing those things with him. I figured you wouldn't want me because he was your best friend, and I wished he wasn't around anymore so we could... then he died." I moved over beside him and took him into my arms. "You didn't cause anything to happen to him. That was all his fault. You can't blame yourself for what other people do. Did you wish for your Mom to die, too? Did you wish your Dad would check out from being a parent?" "No. Of course not. I was just so jealous. Then when he died, I felt more glad that you didn't go with him and die too, than I was sad that he was dead. He was my brother. I should have been sad." Did he say he was jealous? Wait. He said he thought I wouldn't want him because I was doing those things with my best friend. That would imply he wanted to do that with me way back then. I broke the embrace and looked him in the eye. "Just exactly what do you think we did?" "I heard him say he hadn't had a decent blow job since you did it. I can only imagine what else you were doing to him." "Are you saying that you wanted me to blow you back then?" He lowered his head but nodded. "And you imagined other things we might be doing? Did you want that too?" He nodded again. "You were only eleven then." "I know. But I knew what I wanted." "What? What did you want?" "I just know I wanted to be with you. But you were with Stan." It was then I noticed he had wrapped his fingers around my cock when I broke the embrace. His hand slid slowly up and down my straining cock. "Uh... maybe it's time for you to go to bed." He gave my cock a squeeze. "Are you sure," he asked, hopefully. "Umm... yes. Definitely time for you to go, now." Alf slowly stood, making sure I got a good look at his dick. Then turned to give me an even better look at his beautiful butt as he climbed out of the tub. "Would you..." he started. I interrupted him, "Good night, Alf." God, I wanted that boy. It took every bit of strength I had to send him away without raping him first. I got the impression I wouldn't need to rape him. He was open to just about anything. But could I do that to him? I did things with his brother because it was convenient. I wasn't in love with him. Toward the end, I didn't even like him much. He had gotten so out of control. Who knows, maybe the accident wasn't an accident. I do love Alf though. I've always had a soft spot for him from the time he was born. Now he's grown into a beautiful boy. A very beautiful, and very desirable boy. Jesus, I want to fuck him so bad. I went straight to the toilet again and dumped a load while picturing Alf's butt in my mind. I just know his dick would be delicious, and that butt... heaven. The next day was the coach's annual barbeque. We only had one more preseason game, then it would be all work and no time for frivolities. Everybody associated with the team was invited. Most brought their wives or husbands, I took Alf of course. At one point I happened to be standing behind Mongo when he muttered, "Damn, look at that ass." His line of sight was drawn to Alf talking to another player's wife. She was facing us in her bikini, only Alf's speedo clad ass was toward us. I leaned to him and said, "You do know that's a boy, right? He's got a dick and everything." "Oh shit! Sorry man, I didn't know you were there. I was just... well... I didn't mean anything by it. I don't remember him looking like that last year." "Yeah, he's grown a lot." "I hate to say it man, but I'd like to tear that ass up. I don't have to see his dick if I'm behind him." "You'd be arrested. If not for molesting a child, then probably for killing him with that tree trunk you call a dick," I laughed. "It might be worth it. That is one fine piece of ass." I was having enough trouble keeping my mind off Alf's butt without Mongo drawing my attention to it. The rest of the afternoon, no matter where I looked, Alf was there. He would occasionally take a dip in the pool to cool off, and more than a few sets of eyes watched as his angelic body emerged from the water. Droplets running down his unblemished skin, some dripping off the sizable bulge in that speedo. He seemed unfazed by the attention until we locked eyes and he would blush, and smile at me. When we got home, he went to shower while I sat in the living room to cool off. A minute later he said, "Can you help me with this?" He was standing in the doorway with the string of his speedo in his fingers. "I can't get it untied." As he drew closer, I could see it was in a very tight knot. "How did you manage to do that?" "I don't know. But I can't get the suit off without untying it either." I tried really hard to just look at the knot. I swear I did. But my eyes kept going to his package instead. As I watched, it became fuller and longer, until I could clearly see the crown of his dick outlined near his hip bone. I couldn't take anymore. I reached into the side table drawer and pulled out a pair of shears. Alf looked on as I slid the blade under the string along his washboard stomach and severed it. The waistband of the speedo immediately sagged, but didn't fall off. It was held up by his dick. I gripped the waistband, dragged it to his knees, and swallowed his dick in one motion. "Oh, Jesus," Alf moaned. I bobbed back and forth on it, noticing three or four hairs at its base. As I could feel him getting closer to his release, I stopped and looked up at him. "You tied that knot on purpose, didn't you?" He nodded shyly. "Was it an invitation?" He nodded again. "To do what exactly?" "Anything you want," Alf answered. "Turn around." He did as instructed, then I spit on my finger and pushed it at his pucker. Once I was past the first knuckle, I spun him around and swallowed his dick again, while forcing more of my finger into his passage. He fucked back and forth on my finger and into my mouth. "God, you're gonna make me cum." I doubled my efforts and was rewarded with a small but delicious load of boy cream. "After your shower get into bed," I instructed again. He looked dejected until I added "Not yours. Mine." He practically ran for his shower. I went to mine as well. When I came out, he was in my bed. "Turn over." I lubed my fingers and lay beside him. I almost felt guilty about defacing such a glorious butt, but determined to do it. I started with one finger. I knew he could take that. I quickly added a second. He groaned a bit; my fingers are pretty big. I worked him with two fingers for probably ten minutes. He was going apeshit crazy on them. I suddenly pulled them out and lay down, turning my back to him. "You're just going to stop? Why? Come on, please don't stop." "Are you sure you want me to continue?" "Yes," and he lay back down on his stomach. I went straight to three fingers. He tried pulling away from the invasion, but I held him in place as my fingers claimed his hole. After only a minute, he was lifting his hips to give me better access, and I took it, slamming my fingers quickly and roughly into his ass. Five minutes later, I asked, "Are you sure that anything I want to do is ok?" "Mmm, God yes." I lined up my cock. "Last chance to back out." In reply he backed up onto me. I pushed in until my knob had penetrated him, then let my weight drop onto his back. "I never did this with Stan. Only you, Alf, only you," I whispered in his ear, as I began working my way into him. "Is this what you wanted? Is this what you wished for?" "Yesss," he hissed. I gripped his shoulders from underneath him and kept feeding my cock into his bowels. "You know, once I plant my seed in you, I'm gonna want to do it again and again. Is that what you want? Do you want to share my bed? Do all the things you've dreamed of doing?" In answer, Alf pulled his knees up under him and dropped his shoulders to the mattress. "Yes, please." At this angle, I was able to penetrate him completely. His moans became louder and more urgent, as I probed the depths of that heavenly butt. "I love you, Alf," I groaned, as I unloaded inside him. He let his legs slide back to the mattress, and we collapsed onto the bed. Both of us panting, my cock still buried in his ass. Alf lay under me, seemingly comatose. "Was I good for you?" he finally asked. "Incredible." "Did you mean what you said? Do you really love me?" "I'm afraid so. I just didn't realize it until recently." "You said you would want to do this again and again. Did you mean that, too?" "Yes." "You're still hard. Will you do it again now? Please?" "Exactly what I was thinking." I pulled out, and turned him over. As I pushed back inside him, he moaned and wrapped his arms around me. *** The ringing phone woke us early the next morning. My mother had suffered an aneurysm overnight and died. Alf and I were on the next plane to Florida. Coach was very understanding when I told him I would have to miss the last preseason game, but hinted that I would be expected to be in the season opener. My father isn't much of a drinker, but he did that day. He'd had one before the service to settle his nerves, a few during the reception afterward, and several more when everyone was gone. Being the dutiful son, I stayed with him, trying to give him comfort, as he got drunker. Alf came in and said he was going to sleep. He was wearing cut-off sweats and a tee shirt. "That boy's got his mother's ass," father slurred, after Alf left. I hadn't paid any attention to Michelle's ass, so I guess it was possible. "If he weren't mine, I'd be hammering that ass like there's no tomorrow," he continued. "What?" "Oh, hell yeah. I'd bend him over this sofa and plow him like the north forty." "Ok. You're drunk enough. Time for you to go to bed." I tossed and turned all night. I couldn't get what he said out of my head. He said if Alf weren't his, he'd fuck him. What did that mean? The next day I sent Alf out to play on the beach. "Dad, we need to talk," I said to him, as he was getting a glass of water. "Let me take these Tylenol first, then I'm all ears. My head is throbbing." "You got pretty drunk last night. You're hungover. But you said something about Alf I need you to explain." "Oh... shit. Uh, I don't really..." "Come on, Dad. Out with it." "Ok. I guess it doesn't make any difference now. You know George and I were close friends." "Yes, I know." He gave me a knowing look and pointedly said, "Every bit as close as you and Stan." Shit. He knew about me and Stan. "Well, after you boys were born, George got into some kinky things. He liked to watch other guys fuck his wife. I even did it a couple of times if I'd had a drink or two. Then he started sleeping with Michelle, and his wife was sleeping with the guy she ran off with. Michelle was a slut. I'd done her a few times myself. I told him not to marry her but he did anyway. I think it was because he wanted to watch me fuck her. I did right up 'til he married her, and he watched every time." "Did Mom know about all of this?" "No. Your Mom was a saint. She didn't even give blow jobs." "Too much information, Dad. Go on." "After they married, he came and asked me to fuck her again. I told him I would only do it if I could have her ass. He said I may as well, since I had already knocked her up. He told me he'd gotten snipped and she was pregnant with my kid. When you were in high school, George talked Michelle into sleeping with Stan. Of course, Stan didn't have a big cock like I did. He was built like his dad, and George liked seeing her with a bigger one. He was watching Stan fuck her one day when he asked Stan if you had a big cock like your father. Stan said you did as he was pumping his cum into Michelle. George asked him to invite you over so Michelle could get a good fucking for a change. He even went so far as to say that it wouldn't be long before Alf would be big enough to do the job properly." "Shit! So that's why he started acting like he did," I opined. "Yep. And every time Stan came home from Stanford, George would insist on him sleeping with Michelle, and kept telling Stan to invite you to stretch her pussy the way it needed, and how he couldn't wait to see Alf's big cock in her. It's no wonder Stan went off the deep end." "So, George is actually to blame for his wife and son's death, and probably knows it. That's why he checked out," I added. "Yes, he knows. We had a long chat about it all. That's when I decided to sell the clinic." *** Alf and I made our way back home in time for the season opener. It had been almost a week since our one time in bed together. I avoided being alone with him as much as possible. I didn't want to tell him all I had found out. How do you tell a kid that his mother was a slut, his father a pervert who wasn't his actual father, his brother was also not related and psychotic, and his pedophile lover was in reality his brother? That was running through my mind when I got sacked for a fifteen-yard loss during the opener. Luckily, I pulled my head out of my ass long enough to squeak out a one-point victory. All week I stayed away from him, but he was on my mind constantly. Visions of his naked body haunted me even in my sleep. He was trying really hard to entice me, too. Running around the house in his briefs, trying to sit on my lap in the evenings, just things to drive me nuts with lust. The second game was out of town. I would usually take Alf with me but I told him he needed to get back to a regular schedule before school started. The Wednesday after the second game, I was sound asleep, dreaming of Alf. His tight butt, his pouty lips, that beautiful dick. I could almost feel his mouth on my cock, it was so real. Then I realized it was. I opened my eyes to see that ass swaying in the air two feet from my face as Alf slid his lips up and down my cock. "Alf! What are you doing?" He raised his face from my crotch and reached for the lube on the nightstand. "You've been avoiding me long enough," he said as he applied lube to my cock. "Either you fuck me now, or I'm leaving." "But Baby, you don't understand..." "I understand that I love you, and I thought you loved me, too. But if you don't want me, I'll go live next door with my drunk dad. So, either show me you love me, too, or I'm out of here." I flipped him onto his back and smothered his lips with mine. After a long passionate kiss, I looked into his eyes and said, "Baby, you know I love you." "I need you to show me. Make love to me." What's a man to do? I know what I did. I pushed my cock up his ass. I made him moan and groan and call out to god. I fucked him until he shot three loads of boy cream between our bellies, and I sent two loads of my own into his bowels. Afterwards, I told him the whole sordid tale. He listened without interrupting me, seemingly unfazed. "I don't see a problem. You're telling me I'm actually not related to a couple of crazy people. That's good news as far as I'm concerned." "Ok, but I'm your brother. What we're doing is... well, it's probably illegal for one thing." Alf looked at me strangely, then said, "I hate to break it to you but, I'm thirteen. Anything you do to me would be illegal anyway, brother or not." He was right of course. We both broke up, laughing. "Look. I don't care about all that. To me, you have always been my family anyway. I have always loved you, so I'll stay with you as long as you want me. Just don't ignore me anymore." "I promise, never again, Alf." © Cutter09 Please send comments: Cutter09 would love to hear what you think of the story! Thank you for taking the time to send feedback to the author.Your feedback is the only reward the authors recieve. Do you enjoy having access to all the great fantasy material and also having a place to share your own stories without having to censor them for a general audience? 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