Date: Tue, 26 Oct 2004 16:27:28 -0700 (PDT)
From: Sebastian Wallace <sebastian_wallace@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: What Difference Does It Make?

WHAT DIFFERENCE DOES IT MAKE?
by Sebastian Wallace

===

Author: sebastian_wallace@yahoo.co.uk
Website: http://stories.remoworld.com

===

A few years ago, I spent Christmas with the family of my then-girlfriend,
Kaz.  She and I had only been dating for a few months, so I was a little
nervous at the prospect of being holed up with her folks at what can be
quite a tense time, but I must say that her parents went out of their way
to be welcoming and seemed genuinely pleased to have me stay.  I guess I
was, though, in their eyes, the perfect boyfriend for their darling
daughter: a traditional boy-next-door type; conventional, inoffensive and
respectable.  Or that's how I seemed.

It's a good thing they didn't find out about what happened between Michael
and I.  They might not have been quite so eager to have me sharing their
Christmas pudding if they'd known what I'd been getting up to with their
son after lights out.

Knowing (while, of course, pretending not to know) that the guy staying in
your house is screwing your daughter at Uni is one thing.  Turning a blind
eye to the fact he's also buggering your son when the opportunity arises is
quite another.

But maybe I'm presenting myself in too dim a light here.  Michael was,
after all, a more than willing conspirator.

It started one evening a couple of days before Christmas Eve, after I'd
been out for a meal with Kaz, her parents and Michael, along with her uncle
and aunt.

It had been quite a pleasant evening, though perhaps a little too formal
for my tastes, and we'd eaten in a very salubrious restaurant.  I'd been
warned beforehand by Kaz to pack a decent suit with me, and it had turned
out that this was what it was for.

The conversation had flowed steadily during the meal and Kaz's uncle and
aunt had been just as welcoming and apparently interested in me as Kaz's
parents had.  Ironically, my only source of irritation was Kaz.  Every time
I looked at her she seemed to be nodding and grinning encouragingly at me.
At first it was kind of comforting to know that she wanted things to go
well, but after a while I started to feel uncomfortable.  She'd whisper
over at me, "You're doing great, Seb," and I'd feel like I was being
monitored; as if I had a history of being disruptive in polite company or
something.  I'd mutter, "Yeah, alright Kaz..." and feel my face flushing
slightly while the others glanced over at us.

But I suppose Kaz was feeling nervous about the evening and wanting
everything to go well.  Her aunt had, she said, a strong influence over her
dad, and so if opinions went the wrong way during the meal it would almost
certainly make things more difficult between us afterward.

Everything did go well, though, as it happened.

Especially afterward.

I'd been sharing a room with Kaz's brother Michael for a couple of nights
before the evening of the meal.  He was a year or so younger than her,
eighteen or nineteen, and had just finished his first term at Sheffield
University.  The two of us didn't have a lot in common - he was a very
quiet and insular guy, as though he hadn't quite fully emerged from a moody
adolescence - but we made pleasant small-talk and got along fine at a
superficial level.

Kaz's mum had originally offered me the spare room for a couple of nights
until her parents arrived on Christmas Eve, but I'd suggested that it would
be a lot easier if I slept in Michael's room throughout my stay to make it
less of a nuisance changing sheets and moving my stuff.  Kaz's mum had
smiled appreciatively.

I felt a little odd at first to be crowding in on Michael's space - his
room was almost over-flowing with his stuff and the walls were plastered
with posters of bands like Radiohead and Placebo from his sixth-form days -
but Michael didn't seem to mind, so the matter was quickly settled.

A fold-out camp-bed was moved from the garage up to his room.

I noticed within those first couple of days that Michael had a few annoying
habits, like the fact the floor in his room was always covered with his
discarded socks and underwear and the way he masturbated in his bed while I
was trying to get to sleep, but otherwise sharing with him wasn't a big
deal.

The main advantage in staying with him was that his room was next door to
Kaz's.  Michael clearly realised this as soon as I put my bags in his room
- he'd muttered something about his room being positioned "convenient
distance from the local attractions" and thrown me a sideways smirk - but
Kaz, typically, wasn't so astute.

She'd said, that first evening, "You should have taken the spare
room... why d'you want to share with that little tosser?"

I'd smiled.  "Why d'you think?"

Then she'd surprised me.  "I dunno... maybe you want to get a closer look
at Michael...?"

My smile shrivelled and died.  "What?"

"I dunno how guys' minds work.  Maybe you want to compare us or
something..."

I was speechless.

She went on, "You once said that if I was a guy I'd have bigger balls than
you..."

"That was a joke," I stated coldly.

"Well why would you be so eager to sleep in his room... you tell me..."

I must say I felt really angry with her right then; I was almost regretting
having come to stay with her.

I spoke slowly, my voice betraying my anger, "I suggested I stay with your
brother because his room is next to yours... the spare room is down the
corridor next to the door of your parents' room... you do the math..."

She went a little pink.  "Oh."

Then, grabbed my hand.  "Look, sorry, Seb.  I just... well, that's the kind
of stuff Tom used to say... just to wind me up..."

I muttered, "I don't want to discuss your ex-boyfriends, Kaz.  Not now."

"I'm not discussing him.  It's just that he'd say stuff like that.  Say I
had a guys' arse..."

"You haven't"

"I know.  But he knew it pissed me off... and... sorry... I just still
expect it..."

We agreed to forget about it but what she'd said got me thinking.

In the middle of the night, after I'd returned to Michael's room from
having a little fun in Kaz's, I took a couple of minutes to look at him
while he slept.  He was facing away from me with the duvet pushed to the
front of him.  In the dim light from the window I could see the sweeping
curve of his back, his arse cheeks looking full and round inside his briefs
and the hairless backs of his thighs.

Kas had been right: the two of them did have very similar bodies, at least
from behind.

Maybe she did have a guys' arse.

I found the similarities intriguing but not erotically so.  Perhaps I would
have been a lot more interested in studying Michael's body if my cock had
not just spent itself in the body of his sister, but right then I felt
exhausted and wanted to try and get a bit of sleep before the alarm went
off.

The next morning served to heighten my curiosity.

By the time I awoke, Michael had already showered and was drying himself in
the middle of the bedroom.

I sat up in bed and watched him as he roughly towelled his hair dry.  His
body was remarkably similar to Kaz's, although his muscles were more
pronounced and his joints were more angular.  His complexion was identical
- his skin pale and smooth and hairless except for around his crotch - and
his limbs were similarly proportioned.

He finished drying himself and threw the towel onto his bed.

Standing unashamedly naked in front of me, he put his hands on his hips and
said, "Morning, Seb."

I smiled.  "Hi Michael."

He grinned.  "Busy night?"

I guessed I must look like hell.

I shrugged.  "Kind of.  I didn't disturb you, did I?"

He shook his head.  "No - I didn't hear a thing.  I... er... didn't disturb
you, did I?"

I must have looked puzzled because he threw a quick glance down to his
crotch.

I realised he was referring to the activities of his right hand after we'd
turned the light off.

I chuckled, concealing my surprise that such a quiet and apparently shy guy
would be so comfortable about mentioning masturbation.  I said, "No
worries, mate.  If your sister wasn't keeping me so occupied, I'd be
joining in..."

He laughed and walked over to take a pair of briefs out from his drawers.

He muttered, "Feel free..." which struck me as slightly odd, but not too
far from the ordinary.

While he pulled his briefs up - a light grey pair - I got a better look at
his crotch.  Just taking a polite interest, you know.

His cock was pretty average, maybe three or four inches long, but his balls
were quite amazing.  They were like two billiard balls straining as though
ripe and swollen inside his tight scrotum.  His cock looked insignificant
in comparison, as it lay over the top of his sack with one, large pink ball
on either side of it.

It looked like my joke to Kaz, the one she'd reminded me of, had been far
more astute than I'd realised.

Michael tucked himself into his briefs and his balls made two large bulges
in the front of them.

I figured it was time to get up.

I heaved myself up from the camp-bed and pulled off my own briefs, a
tight-fitting white pair.  They tore a little at the tip of my cock, where
semen from my visit to Kaz the previous night had dribbled out during the
night and dried.

"Time to hit the shower, I guess..." I muttered to Michael.

I glanced at him and saw that he was checking out my cock, just as I had
his.  I wasn't surprised or embarrassed: in my experience of being naked
around other guys, it's a pretty normal for them to compare each others'
kits.

And, in any case, he was probably wanting to see what his big sister was
getting served up.

I bent to pick up my towel and noticed him check out my backside too.  Not
quite so normal, but still in no way odd.

I turned back to face him.  He glanced at my crotch again and was no doubt
mentally comparing his hefty balls with my own.  Although I've always
thought of my balls as being quite a comfortable size - about as big as a
pair of walnuts - they looked pitifully unsubstantial up against his.

I looked down at myself and then back at the front of his briefs.  It was
pretty clear that, even if my balls weren't any competition for his, I was
the out-and-out winner in terms of cock size.  Mine was five or six inches
long, even though it was limp, and as thick as a carrot.  His looked like
an earthworm in comparison.

He said, "The shower's pretty straightforward.  The outer dial controls
pressure and the inner dial controls temperature."

I nodded.  "Sounds okay..."

"I just thought I'd tell you because the writing's worn off the dials."

"Cheers."

Then he turned and bent over to get a pair of socks out from the drawers
beneath his bed.

I'm sure it was unintentional, but the way he stuck his arse out towards me
really took my breath away.  His legs were wide and his knees were slightly
bent; his back was bowed and his arse was thrust towards me with the cheeks
splayed open inside his briefs.

I think I might have gasped.

You see, that's the pose that his sister is very adept at assuming when I
fuck her from behind.  The exact same pose being expressed by her brother.

I was unable to stop myself from mentally picturing myself fucking him.
Walking up behind him, pulling down his grey briefs just like I did with
his sister's white panties, and driving my cock into him.  Pushing myself
into his arsehole just as I would penetrate his sister's pussy.  Relishing
the pungent odour of his anus as I entered him just as I would the sharp
scent from Kaz's vagina.

I wondered if he would whimper and cry out like Kaz did when I fucked her.
Whether he would want me to reach round his chest and play with his nipples
like his sister did.

Before I knew it my cock was rising to life, almost poking into the back of
his briefs as it lengthened and thickened in front of me.

Michael stood up and turned back toward me.  I quickly came to my senses.

He glanced at my cock, now almost fully hard, as I struggled to wrap a
towel around it and my waist.

He smiled and I felt myself turn scarlet.

I grabbed my shampoo and hurried out from the room.

I couldn't make my erection subside while I showered.  No matter how I
tried to redirect my thoughts, the image of Michael bending over and
thrusting his arse towards me kept returning to my mind.  My erection would
pulse upward with even greater vigour.

In the end, I gave in to its insistence and roughly wanked myself beneath
the spray of the water.

I was trying to visualise myself fucking Kaz from behind, but my
imagination would keep overtaking me.  Without warning she would
metamorphose into him.  I'd find my cock sliding in and out of his tight,
pink arsehole.  My balls thumping against his larger, rounder ones.  My
fingers on his flat chest, teasing his erect nipples.  His voice, not hers,
urging me to continue.

I fought to reject the mental picture of him for a while and then gave in;
accepted that it was him that I wanted to fantasize about and put it down
to "healthy sexual intrigue about a girlfriend's sibling".  I was sure I'd
read about something like this in a textbook.  It was perfectly normal; not
an authentic gay desire at all.

I quickly finished masturbating with the thought of him reaching his orgasm
while my cock drove in and out of his splayed buttocks bringing me to
completion.

I was careful to wash the splashes of my semen from the wall of the shower
cubicle.

Nothing else of any significance happened between Michael and I until after
the meal with the uncle and aunt.  There were a couple of knowing glances
across the breakfast table after I'd finished showering and dressing, and a
repeat of the fairly obvious crotch comparisons over the following couple
of mornings, but nothing major.

The main event - and, as it happened, the start of an stimulating
friendship between Michael and I - began when we'd got back from the
restaurant.

I'd noticed that Michael had been drinking far more than a guy of eighteen
ought to, even one who has just experienced his first term's drunken
revelry at University.

The fault could mainly be lain at the door of his uncle: he'd been going on
about how he hadn't had a "legal drink" with his nephew yet and that this
is what he'd been waiting for since Michael's christening.  So he kept
getting extra drinks for Michael despite Michael's mum's disapproving
glares, plying the lad with pints of lager followed, as often as he could
get away with, by whiskey chasers.

I suppose the uncle probably just wanted to loosen Michael up a bit:
Michael was clearly uncomfortable about socialising like this and spent a
lot of the time in contemplative silence.

I could see what the uncle was trying to do, but it didn't seem to work.

The alcohol just made Michael sullen.  He'd glance over at me and seem to
resent the fact that I was having a reasonable time, enjoying the company
and chatting freely.  Or maybe he was annoyed that no-one was talking to
him.

It only became clear that Michael had had way, way too much to drink when
we got up to leave the restaurant.  The poor guy could hardly walk; he
veered around the restaurant, almost colliding with other diners, and had
to use the backs of peoples' chairs as support.

Kaz's father and I helped him back to the car, while Michael insisted
loudly that nothing was wrong.

We had to pull into a layby on the A65 for Michael to be stumble out and be
sick.  I went with him; the rest of the family pointed out that I was a
trainee medic and so it would be "good practice".

While he threw up, I put my hand on his back to let him know I was there.
His skin felt hot through the material of his shirt and jacket.

He muttered, between surges, "I'm really sorry about this, Seb.  I didn't
want you to see this..."

I said, "Don't worry about it.  I've seen a lot worse..."

When we got back to the house, Kaz's mum told her dad to sort Michael out
and put him to bed.  Her dad looked queasy.

It was Kaz who suggested that I "might like to do the honours".  I think
she had meant it as a joke.

But her mum looked at me brightly and said, "Ooh, would you, love?  It'd be
ever so good of you..."

I couldn't really say no.

I went to the stairs and found Michael splayed out halfway up.

I said, "Come on then, mate.  Let's get you up to bed..." and helped him to
get up the rest of the stairs.  I think I noticed that, as Michael used me
for support, he kept touching my thighs and would sometimes brush his hand
against my crotch, but I never thought much of it.  The lad was
paralytically drunk; he didn't know what he was doing.  Or so I thought.

I got him into the bathroom.

"Do you want to be sick again?"

He drawled, his voice husky and the words merged into one sound, "No that's
passed."

"Well you better wash out your mouth and brush your teeth.  The acid from
your stomach will burn the enamel off them in your sleep..."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise and then tried to focus on his
toothbrush.

I did most of it for him.  Passed him a glass of water and watched him
rinse his mouth, put paste on his brush and watched while he clumsily poked
it around his teeth, and then refilled the glass for him to rinse again.

Then I told him to drink a couple of glasses of water to ease the hangover
he'd be feeling the next day.

I joked, while he drank the water, "If you end up being my brother-in-law,
you're never gonna live this down, mate..."

He smiled.  "You'll have to remind me, then.  I never remember anything
when I get like this..."

His words sounded a lot more coherent.

I got him to his bedroom and told him to undress.

He theatrically collapsed onto the bed, lying flat on his back.

He giggled.  "I can't.  Will you help me?"

I smiled.  "Of course I fucking won't."

"I'll sleep like this, then."

I shook my head.  "You can't sleep in your suit.  What if you throw up
again on it?"

"I'm not gonna throw up.  I told you."

"Well you'll crease it to hell.  Your mother will be pissed off with
you..."

He giggled again.  "She asked you to look after me.  So she won't be pissed
off with me, will she?"

I sighed.  "Okay then.  But I'll definitely remind you about this.
Probably in the groom's speech on my wedding day..."

He laughed.  "Yeah... you're on..."

He pulled himself up from the bed a little as I took off his jacket.  He
had his eyes closed but was smiling.

I undid his tie and pulled it off and then loosened the top few buttons of
his shirt.  His smooth hairless chest was underneath.

Then I went down and undid his shoelaces, removing his shoes with some
difficulty.  His socks were hot and wet beneath them.

I said, "I'm not touching them... you'll have to sleep in your socks
tonight..."

I went back up to face him.

"I think you can take your own trousers off," I suggested.

He chuckled.  "Naah... I'm too pissed, mate.  You'll have to do it..."

"You're not serious..."

He giggled again.  "I am..."

I said, "If you lose your dick in a bizarre zipper accident, it's not my
fault..."

He laughed but made no effort to take his own trousers off.

So I bent over him and undid the belt.  As I did that, I felt something
hard beneath the material of his trousers.  I thought, "It can't be his
cock..."

But it was.

After I'd unbuttoned and unzipped him, I went down to the foot end of his
bed to pull his trousers off.  As they came down his legs they revealed a
pair of black briefs sporting the unmistakable tent of a captive erection.

Michael chuckled.

I said, "I guess you like being undressed..."

He smiled and looked up at me.  "No more than you enjoyed undressing me, I
bet..."

I guess I just shrugged at him, puzzled.

He went on, "I bet you're as stiff as I am..."

I laughed.  "Funnily enough, undressing my girlfriend's brother doesn't do
much for me..."

He smiled mischievously.  "Show me then..."

I laughed again.  "I'm not showing you my dick, mate..."

"Because you're hard...!"

"No!  Because you're a guy and it would be weird..."

He chuckled at that.  "It would be weird if you were hard... but since you
say you're not, you've nothing to lose by showing me..."

I laughed again.  "Nice try, Michael, but no way."

I walked towards the door.

Now he said, "If you get your dick out, I'll suck it."

I stopped.  My amusement evaporated instantly.

"What?"

He smiled over at me, "I said, if you get your dick out, I'll suck it for
you..."

I spoke slowly.  "Come on, Michael.  You know I'm not gonna do that..."

He poked his fingers in the sides of his briefs and yanked them down,
exposing his six inch erection and those huge balls of his.

He said, "Okay, so why don't you suck mine?"

I closed the bedroom door quietly and walked back over to him.

I shrugged.  "Because - even if I wanted to - it wouldn't be right..."

"Why not?"

"You know why not."

He shrugged.  "Come on, don't worry, Seb.  I remember nothing in the
morning when I get like this..."

"You don't sound too pissed anymore..."

He grabbed his cock and pulled back his foreskin to expose its round pink
head.  It looked wet.  "Come on, Seb.  Suck it... I really want you to..."

"Come on, Michael.  You're Kaz's brother..."

"What difference does it make?"

I chuckled humourlessly.  "Well, you're a guy for a start..."

He nodded.  "Yeah... and that makes it more interesting... I mean, d'you
think I taste the same as she does...?"

I shook my head.  "I'm not going to be able to imagine I'm with her, if
that's what you mean... the big pair of nuts between your legs will make
that kind of difficult..."

He laughed again.  "I didn't mean that.  I just meant it'd be interesting
for you to see how different we are... what we're like... what we like to
do..."

I shook my head.

He smiled.  "Okay.  Never mind.  I'll just have a wank while you go
downstairs and tell them you've tucked me in..."

He pulled his shirt off and threw it on the floor, then lay back and closed
his eyes.  His hand started up a moderate rhythm on his cock, sweeping his
foreskin up and down his shaft and making a wet clicking sound.

Then he opened his legs and his other hand went between them.  It looked
like he was rubbing the ridge between his balls and his arsehole.

I'd been going to go downstairs - truly I was - but seeing him do that
stopped me in my tracks.  It was the same motion that Kaz often does while
she's in a similar state of pleasure; she just sort of tickles that ridge
with the tips of her fingers.

Now Michael was showing me his own version.

I walked to the foot of the bed so that I could get a better view of what
he was doing.

Michael pretended he was oblivious to my presence, but opened his legs
wider to let me see right down to his arsehole.

I saw that his way of stimulating himself was more elaborate than his
sister's.  He had developed it to better suit his male anatomy.  His
fingers caressed those large balls of his, sweeping along their midridge
and tickling the base of his cock.  Then they swept back between his thighs
and played around his arsehole, teasing the puckered entrance gently and
occasionally venturing the tip of a finger into it.

Kaz never did this; perhaps it's only males who find this an erogenous
area.

By now I was captivated.  My cock throbbed inside my briefs and I felt my
breath becoming faster.

I had to go through with this; I'd be more likely to regret it if I didn't
than if I did.

Perhaps Michael was being truthful when he claimed he wouldn't remember
this in the morning.  Perhaps not.  By now it didn't matter: all that
mattered was that I wanted to see what pleasured him; to find out how my
girlfriend's younger brother compared to her.

I hurriedly took my jacket off and threw it onto the camp-bed.  Then I
undid the top button of my shirt and loosened my tie.

I said, "If you hear any noise outside - any of the stairs creaking - you
get under the duvet and I'll pretend I'm folding your clothes, okay?"

He nodded and I walked over to him and knelt by his bed.

I could smell his genitals.  The scent was stronger than Kaz's but bore
some similarities; the male equivalent.

He repeated, "Suck me, Seb..." and I let him pull my head onto his cock.

He pumped it eagerly into my mouth, losing control like his sister
sometimes did, and I felt his precum oozing onto my tongue from the
engorged head.

I let him hold my head firmly and to fuck my mouth with rapid, insistent
strokes.  His balls thumped against my nose, the hairs tickling me with
each thrust, and the thick heavy odour of his genital sweat filled my
nostrils.

I let him continue sliding his cock in and out of me until he began panting
in pleasure.

Fearing he might be about to climax, I pulled away and told him to kneel in
front of me on the mattress.

"I'll kneel on the floor," I gasped, "You kneel in front of me.  Take your
briefs off."

He got up and did as I asked.

"Like this?"

I nodded.  "But open your legs further..."

He knelt on the bed, legs wide open, naked except for his socks.  His cock
curved upwards from his large balls, looking wet and throbbing gently.

I leaned forwards and began sucking him again.  He grabbed my head as he
had before and started fucking my mouth.

Now his balls whacked against my chin and his pubic bush tickled my nose.

I reached between his legs and worked a finger into his arsehole.  He
gasped in appreciation and pushed his backside towards my hand.

His rhythm quickly changed: he began thrusting his arse onto my hand rather
than his cock into my mouth.  Like his sister. who prefered vaginal rather
than clitoral stimulation, Michael seemed to prefer being penetrated than
to having his cock sucked.

I pulled my mouth away from his cock, arching upright stiff and slick, and
concentrated my efforts on his arse.  I licked his balls while I
finger-fucked him, tasting the sweat on them and feeling how large they
felt inside his scrotum, and then I worked my mouth between his legs and
long the hairy ridge.

Now I withdrew my finger and, as Michael opened his legs as far as he
could, pushed my face right into his arse cleft.  My tongue found his hole
and slid in easily.

He grunted something like, "Oh fuck!  Yeah!" and I tongued his rectum as
deeply as I could manage.  His arse tasted strong and rough, but I found
that my cock was almost bursting from my trousers at the pleasure I was
getting from being so intimate with him.

I'd never even done this to his sister!

I pulled away from him and, both of us gasping, said to his disappointed
face, "I need to fuck you."

His eyes widened with surprise.

He muttered, "Yeah... yeah..."

I grabbed my wallet from my trousers and pulled out a condom.  I unzipped
my fly, disentangled my throbbing cock from my briefs with some difficulty,
and then rolled the condom quickly down its length.

I said, "On your back.  Legs up."

He moved to lie along the length of the mattress, his head on the pillow,
but I stopped him.  "Not like that.  Your arse on the edge of the mattress,
so I can fuck you from here."

He struggled to get into the right position and chuckled, "You've done this
before..."

"Yeah.  Your sister's pretty good at it..."

He got into position, holding his legs up near his shoulders and opening
his arse as wide as it would go.  I could tell from the size of his dilated
hole that this would not be the first time he'd ever been fucked.

He'd clearly been having a little fun in Sheffield.

He said, "Will it work?  I mean, my arse is a bit different
to... er... what Kaz has got..."

I liked the way he couldn't bring himself to give a name to his sister's
genitals.  Even though he had quite easily brought himself to seduce her
boyfriend.

I smiled.  "Like you said, Michael.  The fun will be in the finding out..."

With that I plunged my cock into him.  My saliva had lubricated him nicely
and I slid in quite effortlessly.

He gasped, "That feels so good."

I threw him a smirk.  "That's what she always says..."

He smiled back.

I grabbed his legs and held them as I began fucking him gently.  He groaned
in appreciation.

His hand went to his cock and he began masturbating himself to the same
rhythm as I was fucking him.  His large balls bobbed around like a pair of
ripened apples on a tree.

We were soon both panting and sweating.

I briefly paused once to pull my balls out from my fly.  "They're trapped
in the zip... they might not as big as yours, mate, but it's still
painful..."

Now they hung over the front of my trousers, slapping against Michael's
buttocks as I fucked his arse.

I must have fucked him for about five minutes before he came.  I think he'd
have lasted longer - I was deliberately controlling my rhythm whenever he
looked like he was close - but for the fact that I started teasing his
nipples between my finger and thumb.

He shot what seemed like a gallon of semen.  Big balls produce big loads,
apparently.

I quickly finished myself off inside his arse and then, with the condom
pulled off, over his crotch, and added my own drizzle to the puddle on his
stomach.

Almost as soon as he'd climaxed, I heard his mum shouting up the stairs,
"Are you alright, Sebastian?"

I called back, trying to keep my voice steady despite being so out of
breath.  "Yeah... I've just sorted him out... I'll be down in a sec..."

She called up, "Do you need a bucket for him?"

I looked down at the pool of cum on his stomach and Michael smiled up at
me.

"Er... no... I don't think so..."

She called up, "Okay.  Well hurry down... I've got some of Katherine's baby
pictures to show you..."

Michael grinned.  "Ooh lovely..."

Before I left the room to return to them, Michael said, "We'll do this
again, yeah?"

I nodded.  "Yeah.  If you like."

"Yeah."

And then, as I was closing the door, "I bet I can suck your cock better
than Kaz can..."

I smiled and whispered back into the room, "Well there's only one way to
find out..."

He chuckled and I closed the door.

The rest of my visit was difficult: I found myself performing a kind of
balancing act between Kaz and Michael while trying not to arouse any
suspicion.

I wasn't sure which of them I preferred.

Kaz was great fun to be with, she understood me well and I'd grown to love
her enormously in just the three or four months we'd be seeing each other.

But Michael... well, Michael could fuck like a rabbit and suck cock like a
pro.  And there's a lot to be said for that too.

I met him on and off throughout the time I dated Kaz.  Once we went on a
camping holiday - Kaz and I, with Michael and a mate - and I found, again,
that Michael and I were getting together every opportunity we had.

The more I got to know about Kaz's body, the more questions it posed about
Michael's and, whenever the two of us guys met up, I just had to have them
answered.

I'd say something like, "She's really moody at different times of the
month.  I know you don't get a period, but do you get like that?"

And he'd think about it and reply, "Well maybe it's because she's got big
ovaries or something.  They're producing more hormones, maybe.  I mean,
I've got big balls so it'd stand to reason that she'd have big ovaries..."

And I'd nod.  "Yeah.  I guess..."

It became a developing fascination of mine to find out how some of Kaz's
sexual preferences and foibles would be expressed in a male.  Most of what
Kaz enjoyed having done to her vagina, Michael found very gratifying when
applied to his arse.  Apart from that, his erogenous areas seemed to match
hers and his preferred positions were clearly the male equivalents of hers.

One of the things that saddened me most about the break up of my
relationship with Kaz was that I never got to see Michael again.  I guess
he took her side in the argument we had; he's her brother so you can't
really blame him, can you?

I find myself wishing sometimes that my wife Melissa had a brother.

It would be interesting to get to know him.

===

Author: sebastian_wallace@yahoo.co.uk
Website: http://stories.remoworld.com

===