Date: Wed, 25 Nov 2020 14:42:00 -0700
From: artefice@softhome.net
Subject: Accepting the Petey within - 4

Disclaimers

This story is a work of fiction.  It contains descriptions of sexual
contact between males. If you are not of legal age to read such material,
or if you find this subject offensive, please leave and do not read on.
Safer sex techniques (i.e., use of condoms, etc.) have not been included
for the sake of storytelling technique.  Real life, however, is not
storytelling; and condoms should be used without fail during anal
intercourse and other high-risk activities (even you boys on PrEP and you
undetectable guys).

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artefice@softhome.net.

Accepting the Petey within, part four – home life, addicted to cum, 2 of
2

I close my door and walk over toward him.  I see him notice my tent.

"Kneel in front of me," still with that friendly voice.

I stand between his legs, my feet against his pj bottoms and drop to my
knees.  He takes his hand off his dick and tells me to hold it with both my
hands.  I wrap my small hands around his dick, one at the base, the other
just above it.  It feels like a rock covered in satin.  With my hands
around it, there are still a couple inches of the head and shaft exposed,
making him about 7 inches long.  It gently slopes toward me.  My fingers
are not able to touch, making him about 2 inches wide.  There is some sort
of lubricant on it, so his prick glides up and down within my fists as he
slowly pumps his pelvis up and down.  With each pump down, as his dick
disappears into my fists, the head of his dick disappears into a hood of
excess skin.  With each pump up, his dick reappears, and the head of his
prick first peaks out of the hood, then comes completely out.

I am afraid to look directly at him, so I focus on his penis instead.  In
my peripheral vision, I can see that he has rested his head back again.
His pelvic thrusting becomes less and I compensate by starting to move my
hands up and down.  With each pull up, his ball sac rises and I can see the
patch of skin between it and his asshole.  Finally, he stops moving
completely and I am doing all the work.

"Twist your hands," he whispers (I don't think I had ever heard him whisper
before).  As I move my small hands up and down his shaft, I start to rotate
them.  He moans, which I find to be an incredibly stimulating positive
reinforcement both to my mind and to my penis.  I don't know what we are
doing, but I have never felt this close to one of my brothers before and
the feeling is electric.  I will do anything for this sort of closeness.

He whispers, "Squeeze harder."

I do as he asks while continuing to move my hands up, down and in rotation.
Drops of sweat form in the middle of his chest.  His abdominal muscles
tighten.  His muscles tighten, all over.  His ball sac starts to rise.  His
dick seems to swell even bigger.  He slowly pumps his hips forward, pushing
the base of his cock into my bottom fist.  He pulls back.  Then a quick
pump forward.  His penis starts to spurt a milky white fluid.  It looks to
have the consistency of uncooked egg white, but the color of cooked egg
white.  The first gob lands on his chest between his nipples (which I
hadn't even noticed are about twice the size of mine and swollen).

I have no idea what is happening.  I freeze.  Suddenly (I don't even
remember seeing his hands move), he grabs my wrists and continues to pump
his dick with my fists.  Each time he pushes my fists down into the base of
his cock, another spurt of liquid shoots from his dick.  The next several
shots are less voluminous and travel progressively less far and with far
less accuracy.  The final globs are everywhere – on his thighs, some on
his balls, one burst lands on the floor.  The final fluid just oozes out of
his foreskin and dribbles down over my hands.  I am afraid to move.  I
don't know what has just happened.  Charles lets go of my wrists, opens his
eyes, raises his head and looks directly at me, but he doesn't say
anything.

I finally looked up at him and ask, "Are you okay?"

I think he laughs ever so softly and says, equally softly, "I'm just fine."

Emboldened by his soft tone, I ask, "What is that?' – looking at the
liquid covering his torso.

After a moment's thought, he replies, "That's a treat that I made
especially for you."

And then, the question, "Do you want to taste it?", followed by my big
brother's opinion, "It's the best taste ever."

This is completely uncharted territory, but I am not going to miss an
opportunity to please Charles, so I hurriedly say, "Yes, please."

He scoops up a glob with his left index finger and holds it out to me.

Talk about a defining moment.  I stick my tongue out and he lets the glob
drip onto it.  I close my mouth and savor the taste.  I swallow.  It is
warm and a little salty and a little sweet.  I would not have called it
"the best taste ever"; but, if Charles says it is, then it is.  And so is
born my craving for cum.

He asks if I like it and, eager to please, I enthusiastically say, "Yes."

He tells me I can lick the rest of it off his chest.  I reluctantly let go
of his penis, which is now soft and about half the size.  As I get up and
move to his side, I lick off the cum that has dribbled onto my fingers.
Charles smiles.  I bend over and lap up every drop of cum from his chest
and stomach.  The cum taste is mixed with the taste of his sweat.  He is
right.  It is the best taste ever.

I gaze down at the cum oozing out of his foreskin.

I turn my head to look at him.  I may have licked my lips, but the look in
my eyes is an unmistakable "Please?".

Again, he smiles, then says, "Someday.  When you've earned it."

I stand upright and wait.  Charles doesn't move. He doesn't try to cover up
or anything.  I boldly look him up and down, stopping longer than I should
staring at his amazing crotch, but he doesn't seem to mind.

Finally, he says, "You know, this is something buddies do, but they never
talk about.  So, let's keep this our secret, okay?"

A secret between me and my "buddy" Charles!  I am elated.  (I also now
adore it when he called me "buddy" around the house.)

"Of course, Charles.  I will never tell anyone," I answer – truthfully.

"I notice your little dicklet has been hard since the moment you walked in
the room."  Then, Charles winks at me.

He knows me, better than I know myself.

Back in my room.  I know I will not be able to fall asleep until I go back
into the bathroom and lick that glob of cum off the floor with my tongue.

Which.  Of course.  I do.

Author's note: Again, thanks for reading to the end.  And, so, my story
really begins.