Date: Thu, 9 Oct 2014 13:39:37 -0500 From: Rusty Slocum Subject: Because: Part 2--Food Coloring The Usual Disclaimers. Don't read if for some reason you're not supposed to. The fictitious characters in this story are any age you want them to be, but the actors portraying them are all consenting adults. Please realize this is fantasy. Doing anything like this in real life could seriously jeopardize all parties, possibly resulting in psychiatric counseling or even legal penalties. This story belongs to me copyright 2014 and may not be reposted on any other site or situation without my express authorization. Write your own dysfunctional porn. And remember to donate to Nifty. Let's face it, without Nifty you'd be stuck with the generic porn of other sites, and who wants that shit? Thanks to everyone who wrote me (Jon, Greg, Jack, Zach, Matt, Roberto, Dave, Jeremiah, Pablo, Alan, David, Jeremy, Klaus, Mike, Bill, Twomany, and Bob) for your kind comments. I can see no greater reward for a porn writer than to be told you got someone off. Sorry part two took a week longer than I'd prophesied, but the chapter turned out to be longer than I'd planned, and you just can't rush these things. Anyhow, here it is. Hope you enjoy it! Thanks especially to Sid for proofreading my final draft! BECAUSE by Rusty Slocum Rudy murmured, "That was fucking amazing dude. Your hands felt like a hole gobbling us up." "It was a two man job," I whispered right back. "You had as much to do what that, yeah, you said it, amazing nut." He chuckled. "Seriously, dude, if Chad is gonna top that performance, he's gonna have to work hard!" And a voice cut through the sultry quiet of the room. "If Chad is gonna what? I didn't hear you." The real world crashed down around us. Chad, the unwitting victim to our little blowjob plot, stood in the open doorway of Rudy's room, watching us with a comical joviality lighting up his plump little face. His smug, plump little face. "And, just out of curiosity," he continued, blithe in the glare of Rudy's and my stupefaction, "were you guys committing some weird act of mutual masturbation, or were you dancing? Cuz if you were dancing, well, don't expect America's Got Talent to come calling." * * * * the second orgasm—Food Coloring For a minute, I thought the twist in the plot might hurtle Rudy into the throes of an epileptic seizure. He shook violently in my arms, and though he tried to speak, he had no words and could only spit froth and unchained syllables, like an X-rated Daffy Duck (Daffy Fuck?). Chad watched him, an amused gleam in his eyes. He's shorter than Rusty and me, by at least a foot, and he's stocky (but not fat), with well defined pecs and and the first couple cans of a six-pack underneath the last of his prepubescent blubber. A light coating of red down dusts his chest and belly and legs, exactly the color of his thick, bowl-cut hair. He wore only boxers, and inside them his pecker reared and pranced like a foal demanding the pasture. Chad seemed unaware of the hard-on, but I didn't believe him. Not for a minute. "And if it was some weird act of mutual masturbation," Chad said, strolling on into Rudy's room like he owned the joint, "well, all I can say is kudos to you! Its about time you guys proved your love." He stopped at the edge of bed, snatched up the lighter and pipe where they'd dropped, forgotten, during the scene between me and Rudy, and tried to hit the bowl. Nothing there. "Cashed," Chad said, holding the pipe out to me. I took it, staring at him. Something felt . . . yeah, off. Rudy finally found both his voice and his words. Sort of. "What? How?" he spluttered. At the same moment he realized that he and I remained tangled together like toy soldiers in a shoebox. He pushed me away, impatiently (inspiring a moist, suction-y fart as our flesh unglued) but I took no offense. Instead I reached for the baggie of weed. I needed a hit. "You guys got quiet," Chad answered. Rudy sat up on the bed. Although embarrassed about being busted, he refused to show it. That's my boy. He sat there on the bed, naked, sweat and drool and cum coating his furry body (that one bolt of semen still decorating his cheek, too), flaunting himself to Chad. "What do you mean, we got quiet?" Toking up, I watched Rudy, watched Chad. No embarrassment at the bust or my own nudity troubled me. Because this wasn't a "legitimate" bust, but something else. Because my cock smelled sex in the air. "When I went to bed you two were hoopin' and hollerin' and generally shouting the house down, watching porn and smoking grass, yeah, you guys were LOUD, and I drifted right off to sleep. I'm used to it. Then you got quiet, and it woke me up. It was too quiet. I could still smell weed, and I smelled sweat, too, and then I heard bedsprings squeaking. No way, thought I, no way the rockbrain cockjocks . . ." Rockbrain cockjocks? That sounded practiced, to me. ". . . pork each other! But I had to come look." "So its a family trait?" I asked Rudy. "This inability to give a straight to-the-point report? You two have, what, some sort of 'why write a short story when a novel will do' gene?" "You've met my mother," Rudy replied without looking at me. "Same DNA." He kept his full evil eye on Chad, though he did gesture to me for the pipe. "So how long were you standing outside the door eavesdropping before you decided to just barge in? Cuz I know I closed it before we smoked out." Rudy took a big old hit, almost lost it but managed to keep it down. Chad reached, expecting a turn at the bowl, but Rudy ignored him and passed it back to me. "Hey, let me fire it?" "No. Answer the question." "How long was I loitering in the hall with my ear to the door? I don't know. Awhile. I couldn't hear anything but whispers and pud-pounding, so I decided to crack the door and peek inside." His countenance open and guilt free, Chad continued, "Because that's how we roll around here, right?" Utterly guileless. And utterly priceless. The stunned consternation on Rudy's face made me choke on my toke. Chad's expression rocked up into anger and humiliation. "Rudy! You told!" He didn't sound very surprised, though. "You swore you wouldn't tell anybody!" "Hey, chill out, cracker, its cool," Rudy said. He don't stay down for long. "Dis clown be my bruddah. You're my brother, cracker, he's my bruddah. You know? Hell, me and him invented the word bro-mance. Dig?" At hearing it put into words like that, so poetic and layered with sentiment, I actually blushed, but all I said was, "Hey, Samuel L. Jackass, send my pal Rudy back out, would you?" Only Rudy understood the underlying message, the one conveyed by the warm glow on my cheeks. "Ditto, dude," it said. But I still had to pass the pipe directly to Chad. "He gooked you," I told Rudy. "Sorry buddy, but he did. And he deserves a hit." Rudy scowled at me, at Chad, at the world in toto. "Thanks," Chad said to me. "You're right, I do deserve a hit. But," he added, eying me darkly, "I'm not sucking your cock in gratitude. Or Rudy's either." He raised the pipe, but before he took more than a cursory toke his brother leaned forward on the bed and yanked it away from him. Rudy's face was scarlet, and the rest of his body matched, but he wasn't embarrassed all over, like Chad in the story. No, Rudy's flushed face and body illustrated a state of high piss-off, pure and simple. Me? Not so much. Chad and his attitude intrigued rather than angered me. Normally the most polite, well-behaved kid on the block (a clear contrast of personality with his brother), Chad deferred to almost everyone about anything. Especially to the willful, volatile Rudy. But now, Chad acted like the very model of a snot-nose brat. All lofty and holier-than-thou. That might have been Sam, my own smartass kid brother, standing there by the bed, looking down on us, trying to provoke us. But Sam wouldn't be sporting that lap log. Or the Sponge Bob boxers that strained to hold it back. Rudy hadn't noticed Chad's rager, or even that his own cock stretched out half hard along his thigh, as if fueled by ire. "Whoa, whoa, back it up, the cock sucking or not event is scheduled for later in the evening. Right now our home audience wants to hear what you saw when you opened the door?" "I didn't see nothing, at first!" Chad retorted. "You guys' funk rolled out and almost killed me, you hear me, I almost died in that hallway! Geez it's rank in here!" Involuntarily I took a whiff, and Rudy did the same. Yeah, the kid had a point. What with the weed and the stuffiness and the sweaty, jizzy fluids coating our flesh, the room did boast a ripe, sleazy smell. Better than some perfumes I've encountered. "Okay, we stink, counsel concedes the point," Rudy said, using one hand to make the two-fingered rolling motion (get on with it!) and the other to pass me the pipe. "When I could breathe again," Chad said, "first thing I saw was dude here" (he nodded at me) "on his knees on the bed, waving his boner at you and begging you to come up and make a woman of him. 'Oh, Rudy,' ol' dude here purred, 'bring your big manly erect penis unto me, and we shall revel in our passion before we go force poor helpless Chad to orally satisfy us.'" Chad quoted me (inaccurately, I might add) in a high-pitched falsetto, like somebody stepped on Bono's balls. I took no offense at the caricature; it wasn't personal; a direct hit on me meant a direct hit on Rudy. I wanted to laugh, and actually started to, but then the meaning of the sentence popped me in the cranium. Rudy caught on a split-second later. His complexion transmuted, chameleon like, from irate purple to chilly white. "What did you say?" "That was the plan, wasn't it?" Chad spit at his brother. "I knew before you did that you'd spill my guts to yo' homey, yo' bruddah, yo' nigg-uh." Yeah, spitting those words at Rudy, aiming where they'd do the most damage. "And I knew you two would hatch some sort of plot to tie me up and force me to suck your cocks and maybe take them in my tight cherry butt!" I alone saw Chad's cock twitch violently in its prison as he recited those horrors, I alone noticed the moisture blossoming smack-dab in the middle of Sponge Bob's forehead. "And I knew I'd have to do it, I'd have to let you rape me, over and over, because of that stupid deal you coerced me into!" Neither Rudy nor I ever even considered bondage or buttfucking or serial rape, I thought, you're the one bringing . . . um, bringing . . . Right between the eyes, baby, it hit me right between the eyes. My laughter, delayed these last few seconds by the fear that Chad had cozened to our plot and threatened vengeance, burst out, ringing through the tension, accompanied by clouds of pot smoke. I had to double up on the bed while I coughed and choked at the farce. "Da fuck is with you? What's so funny?" Rudy asked, puzzled. Even Chad had forsaken Rudy to look at me. "I wish I knew how to quit you!" I answered, tickled at my own wit. Yeah, I've seen that movie. So what? Rudy hadn't seen it though, so he didn't get it. "Never mind," I waved Rudy on, still laughing and hacking. I clambered to my feet, swayed for a sec, enjoying a mighty fine head rush, and handed Rudy the pipe. He watched me, wondering if he should be concerned, then as I pushed open the window, letting heat, smoke, and funk out and sweet, cold air in, he shook it off and went back to the confrontation with his brother. "Chad, Chad, Cracker-boy, do you really think I could do something like that to you?" he asked, with just the right amount of wounded feeling in the words. "You already did!" And Rudy swung out his feet, bounded his naked body out of bed to land beside Chad. Rudy's by-now completely hard cock bounced in front of him and he didn't even notice. Chad noticed, though. I saw his eyes drop. To give the kid credit, he didn't shrink away as Rudy and his erection crowded in on him. Rudy got right up in Chad's face and poked the pipe-stem against the tip of Chad's nose, the same way his pecker thudded against the kid's bare belly. Chad flinched, whether from the pipe or the penis, I don't know. "Ok maybe that was our plan," Rudy said to his brother. Cool, man, Rudy was cool as no school. "Maybe we did plan to tie you up and use your holes." (What's all this about buttfucking and using holes? I wanted to ask, but didn't want to rock Rudy's flow. I just rolled with it.) "So what? You want it to happen, you know you do. Hell, that's why you came on in when you busted us, ain't it?" His dick brushed the soft red down on Chad's abdomen, back and forth, over and over. Rudy cocked his head so the overhead light shone down upon it, highlighting that little dab of semen coating his cheekbone. It had solidified some, not a lot but enough to keep it glued to his face when Rudy bounded to his feet. Chad clocked it at the same time I did, and he could not tear his eyes away from it, even when he answered Rudy. "Nuh, nuh, no, I don't, I don't want nothing like that to happen," he managed to say, and despite the rocky start he colored the rest with something resembling conviction. "Oh but you do!" Rudy barked, and Chad jumped, and, yeah, I did too. A little. "You found out . . . holy fucking shit, dude, will you put some glass in that hole over there?" Rudy grimaced at me. "Can't you see my balls, all shriveled up in the cold?" Your balls are all drawn up because they want to cum again, I thought. But I didn't say anything, I just closed the window. He was right. It had gotten a wee bit chilly in here, but at least some of the smoke and heat had washed away. And the funk. Shame, that. Ah, well, I thought, the heat will come back. As if to emphasize my point, the central unit kicked on, eager to replace what I'd allowed escape. And the funk would be back too, I knew. I could feel it looming like static before a pheromone storm, a testosterone haze just looking to happen. Meanwhile, Rudy had resumed his attack on his brother. "You found out when you sucked me off that you ain't just, air-quotes, bi-curious. Admit it, cracker. You figured out that you like cock, no, you love cock, not just mine, but anybody's. That you're a dicksucker, nothing but a little fag." He leaned in even closer, even going so far as to unconsciously lay the entire length of his log against Chad's belly. I half expected the kid to make an end run around Rudy for the door (not that he'd make it; Rudy is fast) but he didn't. He stood there in Rudy's shadow and shivered in the shade, but he stood there. Kid had sand. Chad addressed his answer to the jizz. "No, I figured out that yeah, I'm probably bi. And I want to suck somebody off again someday. But it won't be you." His eyes slid over to me by the window. "Or him." Boldly. Voice shaking a bit, but defiance rang with every syllable. "You guys go queer for each other, not me." His own boner danced in his boxers, and he seemed completely unaware of it. Jesus Christ. How can guys have boners and not even know-- Um, oops. I chuckled (not that Rudy or Chad noticed, standing there eye-to-eye and eye-to-cumdrop) and made my way from the window to my bruddah's side. Shit was getting decent. I put an elbow up on Rudy's shoulder, so between the two of us we crowded Chad against the bed. Our three erections bobbled between us, two rising free and one hiding behind a cotton/polyester blend marketing sensation. Chad paled, well aware that if he tried to escape he'd never get around both of us, and the snot-nose facade commenced crumbling faster, but, trig little trooper that he was, he remained a brat to the very end. "I ain't sucking either of your ugly pricks," Chad said. His voice quavered. "I was going to, I admit, I was going to honor our deal, even though you didn't, Rudy, you didn't," and his tone took on a stronger note, "but now I don't have to because the deal's off! You busted me doing something embarrassing, I busted you doing something even more embarrassing, we're even now, okay?" Tellingly, he made no move to march around us and exit on an ultimatum. "I'll decide when the deal is off." The quiet menace in Rudy's tone sent shivers down into my balls. "We are even when I say we are." "Screw you." Quietly, almost under his breath. "So you don't want to suck our cocks and eat our spooge?" "No. Gross." "And you don't want me to roll you over on your belly and slide my eight inches up your personality?" "Funny. No. And eight inches? Not!" Brazenly, he dropped his eyes to Rudy's attentive boner. "More like six." Looked back up at his brother, smirked his lips. Oh, the audacity! I loved it. Rudy didn't. He possessed not the slightest clue that Chad had expertly manipulated him into this state. He just raged silently at the dick dis while drilling on with the current attack. "So, you're telling me, I mean, what you're trying to get across, is that you are not a dicksucking fag." Chad waded through the syntax right along with me, gave it up as a bad job. "I am not a dicksucking fag." Rudy and I both leaned in, towering over him. "He's lying," he said as an aside to me. "I can look in his eyes and see the lie swimming there." "I spy a better tell than that, Rudy old man," I returned, nodding my head at Sponge Bob. "Kid is packing wood enough to build a battleship." Chad gasped, color flooding his face, and he instinctively moved to cover his crotch, but Rudy knocked his hands away and looked down at the strange, leaking tumor in Sponge Bob's forehead. At the sight, a light bulb popped into life over Rudy's head. He got it; he comprehended Chad's artless manipulation. I think Chad missed the eureka moment, but I didn't. Rudy began to chuckle, a simple, dark sound that told me he intended to really play with the kid now. Reaching out, he flicked the dick with his middle finger, flicked it hard, the way I'd seen him do to Chad's ears a thousand times. Chad gasped, and the first actual teardrop of the night brimmed in his eye. "I knew it, I fucking knew it," Rudy exulted. "Little bitch is a dicksucker, so fucking turned-on he grew him a rocket in his pocket! This our lucky day, son!" He punched me in the arm; soft, friendly, it almost knocked me over. I refrained from mentioning his own un-pocketed rocket. He'd figure it out. Eventually. Chad gave it one more go-round, tried to shore up the tottering braces of his facade. "You know how old I am," he pleaded. "We get 'em, you know, you get 'em too, it just happens for no good reason!" And for the first time a fine sheen of sweat shimmered into being on his downy torso and moon face, adding Chad's scent to the layers of Eau d'Hormone permeating the room. Rudy reached up and grabbed his brother by the jaw, a sudden burst of controlled violence that left a breathless boom in its wake. "This one ain't for no good reason," Rudy imparted, "and all us chickens recognize that fox. But tell me something I don't know," he said, backing off a bit and releasing Chad's jaw, "why do you keep staring at my cheekbone, cracker? You thinking about hitting me there, see if you can shatter it? Dare ya." "Nuh nuh nuh . . ." Chad blubbered. I felt kinda sorry for him. Yeah, just kinda sorry. Not a lot. Reap what you sow and all that garbage. But I did feel compelled to intervene. "He's staring at the blob of jism, Rudy," I said. Chad flushed again. Even more embarrassed than before. "Say huh?" "On your cheekbone," I clarified. "A big old wad of cum. Maybe yours. Maybe mine. Who's to say?" I shrugged. "I got baby batter on my cheek?" "Either that or bird crap, and you don't own no canary." "Well, jeepers." Rudy paused to consider, reached up as if to rub away the semen, noticed he still clutched the pipe. He hit it, passed it to me, considering, considering. Chad watched us, eyes wide, rager pulsing in his boxers. "And you say he's been eyeballing it for awhile?" "He be hyp-mo-tized." I passed back the pipe. "Groovin' on it, huh?" "The old moth/flame cliche springs to mind." "And how long he been sporting that righteous bone?" Pass. "Hmm, since he came into the room, I believe." "That long?" "He never even tried to hide it." Pass. "You don't say." "I wouldn't shit you." "Like maybe he'd turned on seeing us two hunks horsing around on the bed." Pass. "And being around such manly men as us--" "Speak on bruddah, can ya gimme hallelujah." "--such sexy beasts as us, the thang won't go down." "That's a reasonable assumption." "Mere logic, Captain." Pass. "Fuck you, Spock." "Will you two stop that!" Chad hollered. We gaped at Chad in surprise. "Stop what?" Rudy asked. "Talking like I'm not even here!" Pouting like a child. "He's cranky," Rudy confided to me. "Woke up too early from his nap." "Pobrecito." Rudy held up the pipe. "Think a little marijuana might sweeten his disposition?" "Couldn't hurt." "True." He proffered the bowl to Chad. "Want a toke?" Chad expelled a rush of frustrated air. "Yeah, I want some." He reached for it; at the last second Rudy yanked it away. "Please, Rudy," Chad pleaded. "Tell you what, I'll make another deal with you," Rudy said, holding the pipe just out of Chad's reach. Chad groaned. I grinned. Rudy leaned in, presenting his cheek to his brother. "If you lick this cum off your old brothers face," he murmured, indicating the correct spot with the pipe stem, "if you slurp this cum right down your throat and admit you're a born dicksucker, why, I'll let you have the rest of this bowl all to yourself." "Now that's a good deal there, Chad-ster," I observed. Rudy leaned closer, so the shiny semi-gelid puddle on his cheek hovered spit distance away from his brother's nervously twitching lips. His cock-head poked Chad's belly, and he glanced down incredulously, surprised to find himself hard. I could tell by his expression that it honestly had not registered with him until then. I could also tell that he was not distressed by it in the least. He leaned in closer to Chad, almost putting the kid's nose right into the jizz. "So what it's gonna be, Chad? Put up or shut up." The kid quivered and shook. What to do, what to do? He wanted to let go, he strained to let go, to let his brat facade crumble into the devoted dicksucker he knew himself to be. And at last, with a heroic effort, he did let go. The tension drained out of his body like somebody somewhere pulled a plug, and he gave in to what he wanted. His tongue snaked out and lapped lightly at the blob of cum, tasting it like a cat tastes milk, licking it up, swallowing it down, exploring for more when the cheekbone ran dry. Rudy chuckled, low, in his throat. "Good cracker." Then, pushing Chad away, he ordered, "Drop your drawers." "Huh? But Rudy, you promised--" Rudy tossed the pipe and lighter onto the bed, grabbed at Chad's boxers and yanked them down. The kid's cock got caught in the waistband, then sprung loose and bounced off his belly. Hard. Chad gasped, and I did too. That had to smart. Kid's pecker was like a tree trunk, a short one, sure, five or so inches, but a mighty fucking thick one all the same. Maybe five inches in circumference as well. Thicker than Rudy, even. The head reared out of the foreskin fearlessly, all moist and shiny with precum. The shaft rose up from a tangle of carrot colored curls. I'm two years older and the kid's got more hair on his crotch than I have over my entire body. Sheesh. Chad realized all the attention on the room centered on his rager, and again he tried to cover himself, again Rudy batted away his hands. "Quit with the hands! You ain't got nothing down there to be ashamed of. Or happy about, neither," Rudy added. "Step out of those drawers, cracker, and hand 'em to me. And don't go talking about promises. It was a deal. I'll be right proud to honor that deal when you hold up your end." "Right proud?" "Shush, you." "You'll be right proud?" "It's an old country expression." "Okay, whatever!" I held up my hands in mock surrender. "You'll be right proud to give Chad his turn at the bowl when he fulfills his end of the bargain." "Thank you. Exactly so, dude." Chad, perplexed by our exchange, balled the boxer shorts in his hand; now he too presented as buck ass nekkid and all horned up. And he'd really started perspiring and putting out the funk. Rudy and I sweated profusely, too, caught up in the heated moment, as it were, and I'm sure we still radiated the odor of our earlier encounter, but Chad overpowered us. In his funk I smelled sheer nerve, and whimsical, confused desire, and a hunger so dark and powerful that I wondered for a moment who took advantage of whom. "But I did," Chad protested in a tiny, whiny voice. Rudy snatched the boxers away from the kid. "Did what, cracker?" "I did what you said. And you're supposed to give me a toke now. Please, Rudy." Rudy slid between me and Chad, managing to wound both of us with his sword as he passed. Stopping around his brother, Rudy pulled Chad's arms back and began to bind his hands. "Hold still." Chad realized Rudy's intention, and he began to panic, and some that of panic actually read as real. Rudy popped the kid a good one on the asscheek, and Chad, with an involuntary woof, opened his eyes wide in disbelief. "Hold still, goddammit! Now, tell me, exactly what did you do to step up to your end of the deal?" "I . . . I licked the . . . the cum off your cheek." Seemingly intent on his task (he told me later that trying to tie someone's hands using Sponge Bob . . . Sponge Bondage? . . . boxer shorts constituted a major bitch), Rudy asked, "Yeah, that's right. So how'd that work for you?" "Uh . . . what?" "You know. The cum licking thing? Did you enjoy it? Was it pleasant?" He sounded genuinely curious. I'd seen Rudy toy like this with people before, and it always amused me to rediscover the remarkably demented mean streak that ran beneath his sunny good nature. But the display had never made my cock twitch like this. So hard, man, so hard I pointed true north. Chad's pecker verified my sense of direction. He stood there, sweating like a pig, damn near shaking with fear, uncomfortable and humiliated by his brothers lazy round of verbal cat and mouse; still his erection proved the bellwether of his need. His complexion invented yet another shade of red and he stammered out, "Uh, yeah . . . yes Rudy . .. it was . . . you, you know . . . okay I guess?" I think if the earth had opened right then Chad would be torn whether to dive in or jump back. Rudy apparently got Chad's hands bound to his satisfaction and looked up at me over the kid's shoulder, smiled, winked. Chad struggled for a moment, trying to free himself; when he realized the bond held, he moaned, very quietly but audibly. His face, to me, read like the dog who'd caught a car and wondered what the hell he was supposed to do with it now. "Only okay?" Rudy whispered in Chad's ear. "That what you said?" "It was more than okay!" Chad blurted. "It was . . . was . . . great!" The admission pained him, I suspect; his body language screamed agony. And desire. The conflict fascinated me. I knew which side would win. The fun was in the fight. "Great, huh?" All impressed. "And what about the jizz itself?" "Uh, what? Oh, God, Rudy, please! What?" "The jism. The seed. Semen. You know." "I know, Rudy, what about it?" Almost sobbing as he said it. Seriously. Teardrops two and three brimmed in his eyes. "Well, as a for instance, was it tasty? Good consistency? I know it was a little cold and flaky, woulda tasted better hot--" Chad moaned. "--but did it titillate your discerning palate?" "Yesssssss oh yes, okay, it was divine, all right?" Chad looked at me, staring me in the face, his expression contorted, confused, ashamed, but he spoke, almost shouted, to the brother behind him. "You happy? I loved it!" Rudy moved in closer to Chad's backside. When he and the kid let out glassy-eyed sighs one-tenth of a second apart I knew Rudy had placed his boner into Chad's fingers, giving the bound hands something to play with. Hunching into the kid's fist, Rudy breathed, "And you think that means you completed your part of the bargain?" "Yes, Rudy, I did it, I did what you said, and it tasted good, I swear!" Chad babbled, unable to stop himself. Still hunching, "And that means you get a toke off the old pipe?" "Yes, Rudy, you promised! Please, Rudy!" I imagine the weed meant little at this point, only insomuch as it provided something to beg for. Lost, oh yeah baby, Chad was so stoned on Rudy and the scene that giving him pot would be like throwing pebbles in the Grand Canyon. "But think about what you didn't do." "What I didn't do? Rudy, please stop teasing me, I don't know what I didn't do, just tell me and I'll do it!" "Think about it. Think about the wording of the deal. Work it through." Chad closed his eyes, frantically trying to recall what had been said, anxious to please Rudy, unsure if he wanted to wriggle his way out of this predicament or plunge deeper in. "I, uh . . . I didn't . . . I meant to . . ." and then memory struck, he figured out what Rudy wanted from him, and he opened his eyes to stare at me again, to show me all the excitement and degradation he felt, and he continued in a rush ". . . I didn't tell you, I forgot what you asked me, but I remember now . . ." "Now we're getting somewhere," Rudy encouraged his brother. "Atta-cracker." ". . . so yeah, Rudy, okay, I admit it, I'm a little dicksucking faggot, I love cock, your cock, any cock you want me to love I'll love!" Despair on his face. Despair. And joy. "When I blew you off the other day, yeah Rudy, when I swallowed your cum I knew what I was, I'm a dicksucker, Rudy, your dick is all I've been thinking about, about how it felt in my mouth! I'm your dicksucker, I'll suck anybody's dick you tell me to if only you'll let me suck yours too!" Rudy hunched into Chad's bound hands, back and forth, driving both of them crazy, two for one on the same trip. I couldn't help it. My erection demanded contact. I centered myself in front of Chad, grabbed my pecker and jacked it while I rubbed the head over as much of the kid as I could reach. Over his sweaty, furry belly, up and down and across his hard shaft, and, bending my knees, into the tense scrotal bundle cradling his balls. Up close, Chad's funk enticed like cheap perfume on a high class whore. Rudy reached up and over Chad's shoulder and placed a hand on my chest. "What about my homey, my bruddah, my nigg-uh here? Would you love on his dick if I asked you to?" Chad nodded fervently, knees ready to buckle from sensation overload. "If you want me to, Rudy, I'll do it, he's got a pretty big one too, I like the curve," and he actually started to kneel before Rudy none-too-gently wrestled him still. I throbbed at the near miss. It'll be all right, I assured my boner. Just enjoy the tease. You'll get your turn. Rudy pulled his hand off my chest (ah! sorely missed already!) and drew his brother into a tight neck hug, kissed his blushing cheek. "Now see, cracker, that wasn't so hard, was it?" And to me, "Do me a solid and give the kid here his toke?" I let go my boner, though I kept rotating my hips so it brushed and poked Chad's belly, and scooped up the pipe and lighter where Rudy had tossed them earlier. Holding the stem to the kid's lips, I flicked the flame over the bowl, and Chad pulled at it like a little cock to be sucked. Nothing ignited. Chad toked harder. Still nothing. I pulled the pipe from his lips and inspected the bowl. "Cashed again," I said, tsk-ing regretfully. Chad blew out a long, not-so-low moan of disappointment, and those tears so bravely held back spilled down his cheek. He didn't actually need the hit, as stated above, and to tell the truth I think it served him better as yet another frustration. Rudy released him from the hug, clapped him on the chest, and withdrew his arm. "Sorry, cracker, guess today just ain't your day." He didn't move away from Chad's backside though; he kept his pecker in the kid's grasp and hunched into it and lightly scratched his fingernails across Chad's sweaty shoulder blades. I tossed the pipe and lighter and pressed closer to the kid, pushing the entire length of my shaft against his abdomen, grinding against it, enjoying the tickle of his yet-thickening belly hair on such sensitive skin. Imitating Rudy, I ran my fingers over and across Chad's chest, softly combing through the down, circling his rock hard little nips. The kid pimpled up into one big goose-bump. His cock pulsed against my upper thigh, drooling like a zombie with no mind of its own; his eyelids fluttered in ecstasy, his breath panted hot and moist against my collarbone. Understand, by this time all concepts such as straight and gay and (air-quotes) bi-curious may as well have never existed, at least for Rudy and me. I can look back now, from a few days vantage point, and think, yeah, we blew that scene past gay and into full-on queer territory, and 'twould be an outright lie to protest us as stoned hetero boys getting our rocks off. But then, man, then I only thought of it, if I thought of it all, as sex. Chad trembled between us, between Rudy and me, and his physical gender mattered not, just his tremble, and his ache, and his need to please. Sexuality, some wise old soul (Madonna?) said once, is fluid. Given the right circumstances, anyone might do anything with anyone else. I can dig it. That night with Chad and Rusty (hell, that weekend with everybody) taught me that though I might self-identify as straight (I will never give up pussy!), under the right circumstances I might well be that anyone. And I think I can claim Rudy to be a possible anyone too. "Ooooh, please, Rudy," Chad murmured, and I'm not sure he had a clue if he still asked for pot or something else, something he had no words to describe. "Ooooh, please . . ." "Think he's into us, dude?" Rudy whispered. "Who wouldn't be?" Grin. "True dat." Still sketching our fingers across Chad's skin. He jerked and leaked against my thighs and moaned, lost. His diminutive nipples stood rigid too. "You like that, cracker? You like our fingers on you?" "Ooh, Rudy, oh God, Rudy, please . . ." We rubbed and teased lower on his torso, Rudy scratching at the small of Chad's back, lingering at the spot where waist morphed into ass, me exploring the furry environs of his belly, one hand and set of fingers on each side of my rutting cock. I dropped even lower, digging in the sweaty tangles at the outside of his pubes, feeling his cock probing at my balls, leaving trails of wetness with every touch. "Oh, touch me, touch me," Chad moaned, mindless with lust, "please touch my peter, grab it, please . . ." He emphasized his point by upping the pressure on the cock in his bound hands; Rudy gasped, his eyes glazing over even as he said, "Oh no, cracker, nobody's touching your peter tonight. Not even you." "Oh, nooooo, Rudy, please, Rudy . . ." Still skirting my fingers along the edge of Chad's pubes. Digging lightly into the little clefts between legs and scrotum. Grinding my cock into the kid's belly. Feeling the aura of his erection on my upper thighs and balls. "So. Rudy?" "Yes, my bruddah?" We conversed over Chad's shoulder; he shivered when our words tickled his ear. "He can't touch his own peter?" ". . . oh please, Rudy, somebody touch it, please . . ." "Nyet." ". . . ooohhh Ru-deeeee . . ." "And nobody else, me, for instance, is allowed to touch it either?" "Mais non." ". . . Rudy . . ." "What if, you know," I lowered my voice, "what if he needs to cum?" ". . . I do Rudy, I do, I do need to cum . . ." "Beg pardon?" "To cum, Rudy. You know, reach orgasm." ". . . I need to, Rudy, yeah, I need to reach orgasm, I can go again right after or whenever, but I gotta cum soon!" "You mean get his rocks off?" "Hurt, Rudy, my balls hurt . . ." "Yes, exactly. To get his rocks off." "TFB, baby, too fuckin' bad. Cracker wants to blow, let it be spontaneous and, uh, unassisted." ". . . noooooo . . ." "Any particular reason?" "I think it will be good for the cracker. Teach him some self-control." Rudy fully in his element. Always the ringleader, the instigator, the tactician. Funny, and creative, and quick on his feet. Sunny so long as nobody cock-blocked his leadership. I've always been happy to follow him and provide the flourishes. I give good flourish. I sighed as if bitterly disappointed, causing Chad to squirm (see the flourish there?), then moved my fingers back up his torso; he mourned the loss of my heat so close to his hard. I returned to Chad's chest, once again kneading the sweaty, downy pecs, touching everywhere around but never directly on the kid's tiny but staunch nipples. Rudy kept up his slow hunching into Chad's fist, kept stroking and scratching the kids backside. "Is there anywhere else he shouldn't be touched, Rudy?" A strangled gasp from Chad. "I probably shouldn't be touching him where I am right now." "Urng!" "But, technically," Rudy continued, raising his voice over Chad's grunts, "no, I think just his peter. Did you have somewhere else you wanted to touch?" Chad's chest, drenched in sweat, heaved erratically under my fingers. I circled his nipples, skirting the edge of each one, and he muttered under his breath, just loud enough to be heard, ". . . please please please please . . ." "Well, actually, Rudy, I thought about rubbing his nips. You know, rub them, tweak them, twist them, that sort of thing?" Louder, ". . . please . . . Rudy . . ." "Hmm, I don't know, dude. Let me ask him." Rudy brought his right hand up to Chad's slick, sweaty face, teased his middle finger around the outline of his mouth. The kid's lips parted, Rudy slid his finger inside, and Chad clenched shut his eyes and sucked it, up and down, slowly. "I'm giving you a choice here, cracker-boy. You want my bruddah here to rub your tiny nips?" Chad tried to speak, but Rudy's pseudo-dick fucked away all comprehensibility. "Or do you want me to put this here finger back where it was a minute ago?" Again Chad tried to speak. Rudy didn't let him. "Think about it now, think hard." He pulled his finger free; for a second Chad fellated air. "Well, cracker, what's it gonna be?" Chad opened his eyes, looked back and forth, wildly, between me and the finger hovering just out of his mouth's reach, his face all contorted and confused. "Both!" he blurted. "Oh please Rudy both!" Rudy imitated a game show buzzer. "Wrong answer," he said, and, with the hand still poking around and rubbing on Chad's backside, slapped the kid's asscheek so hard he let out a startled squeal and came up off the floor onto his toes, thumping his baby's fist-size cockhead painfully into my balls. "Jeez, Rudy, give a little warning next time!" I cried. "Sorry, dude." He grinned at me. Not a bit sorry, I could tell. He tapped his finger against Chad's lips. The kid opened up to accept it, but Rudy merely rounded the outlines of his mouth. "Choose, Sophie. Nipples or asshole?" Chad danced there on his toes, his expression an agony of indecision. Rudy beamed at me over the kid's shoulder, his eyes all a-sparkle with glee. I struggled to keep the cool and amused smile on my face, for Chad's benefit, but inside I felt about as giddy as Rudy looked. Not only was this little game with Chad hot, and horny, it was also a riot! I don't think I have ever had as much fun fucking as I had that night and the next. And imagine, I only opted in for a blowjob. Chad made a few huffing sounds, still clearly unable to make his mind. "Nipples, Rudy, my nipples!" he finally spat out. I think the whole asshole thing spooked him. It would've spooked me. "Final answer?" Rudy traced round and round those thick, panting lips. "Yes! Rudy! Oh, God, please, Rudy, let him touch my nipples!" "Well, if you're sure," he said, and slid his middle finger back inside Chad's mouth; the kid sucked it in like a pacifier, noisily and blissfully. Rudy nodded at me and I zeroed my touch in on the kid's nipples. He gasped and bucked as I tweaked and tickled the tiny (but game) nubbins. Chad mumbled something unintelligible around the symbolic dick fucking his face; to shut him up, Rudy slid a second finger in there. The kid's cock danced and pranced off my testicles and upper thighs. "You do anything spontaneous and, uh, unassisted, and get jizz all over me," I warned Chad, "I'll tear these nubs right off your chest, dig?" I don't think he quite understood me, intoxicated as he was, but he nodded like he did, and he didn't cum. Heaven knows what it cost him. He endured the plethora of sensations we inflicted on him. Rudy's cock sliding in and out of his bound fists. Rudy's fingers fucking his mouth. Rudy's breath tickling his ear. Rudy's hand slapping and grappling at his ass cheek. Mine own ticklish touch on his nipples, teasing them in the expert manner I'd perfected on myself. My cock rutting into his furry belly. His own peter, colliding with me no matter which way he turned, so hard and achy and maddened with the need to cum. But, yeah, he held off; maybe my words or my tone warded it; maybe his fear of Rudy's wrath; maybe just a base desire to shine it on a little longer. The heat and the funk made the air in the room shimmer, no matter how recently diluted. Sweat and spunk and the tattered remnants of pot smoke warred for acrid dominance. Rudy pulled his fingers from Chad's mouth, with the predictable result of the kid being unwilling to loose them. When his mouth cleared of obstacles, he launched back into his half-whispered litanies of "please please please" and "oh my balls hurt" and "gotta cum, Rudy please!" Behind his head, Rudy held up the two fingers, all glimmering with saliva, added more spit and snot of his own, until they were thoroughly saturated and sparkling. He glanced meaningfully at the fingers, rotated them downwards so they pointed at Chad's backside, then looked across the kids shoulder at me. Specifically, at my right nipple. I winked to show him I understood. His paired fingers, wet and gleaming, dropped behind Chad's back. "Y'know, dude, I get a feeling I'm being a little rough on ol' cracker here." "Say it's not so! Hey, Chad? Do you think your brother's being too rough on you?" ". . . yes . . . No! Not too rough, Rudy . . . maybe a little . . ." "Where do you think you erred, Rudy?" "Making the cracker choose between nips and asshole. Damned unfair of me." "Well, I did find that a trifle over-the-top." "Really? You shoulda said something." I shrugged, both my shoulders and my cock. "Not my brother." ". . . my hole, touch my butthole, please . . ." "So do you think I should let him have both touches, like he asked for?" "It would be a mighty nice gesture on your part. Demonstrate your benevolence." Rudy almost lost it on that one, and I almost lost it because of the wild, silent laughter on his face. When we regained control, he said simply, dryly, "Okay then," and winked at me. Now. I pinched my fingertips together on each of Chad's sturdy little nips, twisted hard, as viciously as Rudy had tweaked mine earlier, and he let out a startled squawk. A half second later Rudy rammed his spit- and snot-soaked fingers up the kid's ass. Chad squealed on top of the squawk, high-pitched enough to inspire my ears to ring, and came up onto his toes again, but I was ready for him this time and pushed up with him, grinding my dick hard into his belly when he stopped. Between my legs his erection stormed, dancing and jerking and spilling juice all over me. "I meant it, cracker," I warned him again, giving his nipples another half-twist. "I'll yank 'em off!" Chad found his voice. "Noooooooooo, Rudy, don't do that, nooooooo!" Pain laced his screams; pure, unfeigned panic earth-quaked all over his body. "Take them out, Rudy, please!" Face stricken, Rudy hesitated. Maybe he'd hurt the kid, maybe he'd pushed him too far. He seemed unsure if he should keep going or pull back. Chad made the decision for him; even as he wailed protests along the lines of "no Rudy don't touch me like that, it hurts Rudy oh it hurts please Rudy" he squatted slightly and hunched his ass backwards, trapping Rudy's fingers inside. The movement snatched his abdomen away from my rager, leaving it to pulse futilely in the air, and Chad dropped his head down to rest his stubbly cheek (not too far away from meeting its first razor) against my upper chest; the downy whiskers rubbed my nipple like velvet sandpaper, and this time I, not Chad, struggled for control. The kid spread his legs and rotated his ass against Rudy's hand, forcing the fingers even deeper inside. ". . . hurts Rudy, please don't do that, please . . ." "I'll dial my digits any damn where I like," Rudy said, regaining his momentum. "If a man decides he wants to fingerbang a cracker, why, the cracker gets banged. Whether it hurts or not." ". . . you're right, Rudy, I'm sorry, Rudy, you're so right, a cracker should be grateful, but, oh God, Rudy it hurts, it makes me itch way up inside!" "Did I tell you to stop jerking me off, you little bitch? Work that dick!" ". . . I, I, I'm sorry, Rudy, there, is that better? Am I holding it too tight? Not tight en- . . . Rudy, your fingers, stretching me, hurting me, please don't hurt me . . ." "That's good, cracker, nice and slow, grip it just like that." I pulled my hands away from Chad's chest and took a step back, amazed at how sticky I was, how sticky and, yeah, funky we all were. The kid was so wrapped up in his anal invasion that I don't think he noticed the loss of contact (other than to shift his balance when I removed my support), but Rudy clocked it. "Something troubling you, dude?" "Oh, just this!" I grabbed my erection, illustrating how it strained in my grip. "I want some attention over here! Fucker's all worked up and no place to go!" "I can see that, my bruddah. Looks painful." ". . . itchy, Rudy, makes me all itchy way up inside . . ." I stroked my rager, and don't get me wrong it felt good, but for the most part my cock was too pissed to take my calls. It wanted to reach out and let someone else touch it. "Rudy, you have no idea." Forgetting that you don't show vulnerability or belligerence to Rudy when he's in that particular mood. "If I don't feel a mouth on it fucking soon I'm going to stick it in your ear, understand?" ". . . I can suck it for him Rudy, I'm a dicksucker, I suck dick . . ." "So, oral sex or aural sex, that's the choice?" "Either or." He pretended to think about it, all the while reaming out his squirming younger brothers asshole. Yeah, fingerfucking Chad, headfucking me. I'd questioned Cartman's authori-tie. I must pay. I stroked and stroked, aching for . . . for . . . shit, I don't even know what I ached for. A blowjob, a handjob, a toejob. A job performed by somebody besides me, for once. I don't know if I felt as frustrated as poor Chad, but if not, I ran a pretty close second. ". . . I can suck him, Rudy, I need to put something in my mouth, I'll suck him and you can keep your finger in my bottom, it doesn't hurt as much now but it still makes me itch . . ." "So you wanna stuff the cracker's mouth, dude?" Rudy asked me, grinning that grin. He rarely fucks with me like he does with others, but he do have his moments. "Want him to open right up and gobble right down?" "I would appreciate it," I said, staring right back, grinning right back, unable to be unamused by Rudy's bullshit but not falling for it, either. I refused to beg for release, like Chad. And, of course, I was sure Rudy wouldn't let it go that far either. Most of this particular tease he aimed at the kid; that he affected me as well only enhanced the game. ". . . yeah, it feels okay now, Rudy, I mean it still fills me up back there . . . ooooh . . . when you hit that spot it makes me wanna do something . . ." Rudy held up his free hand. Wait. I stood there and seethed and throbbed while he looked down at the hand causing Chad such consternation. He fiddled about back there – --and Chad jumped and cringed at the same time, and his babble went up an octave. ". . . OOH NOOO Rudy don't do that, it just stopped hurting and ow oW OW . . ." Smack! My own asscheek stung when Rudy laid that one on Chad. The kid screeched and tried to pull away and push back at the same time. "Shut the fuck up, putito! You said it didn't hurt anymore. I was just trying to fix that for you!" "But another finger, Rudy? That makes two fingers . . . ooooowwwww Rudy please!" "Learn how to count, cracker," Rudy said grimly. "That's three." Smack! Wail. "Keep wanking, bitch!" "Sorry, Rudy, but thuh . . . three? Rudy, please, noooooo!" Chad wailed. Still rotating his hips against Rudy's hand. Still grinding his hole on those fingers. Working to accommodate them, because Rudy wanted him to. I had a sneaky feeling he'd be rotating and grinding and working on something else soon. Voice pleading for one thing, body begging for another. Gone, the easy-going, well-mannered budding football player; gone also the snarky brat of a few minutes ago, the one who insisted on poking at the bear he knew to reside inside his brother; in their place, this shivering, mewling, cumdump of need. A side of Chad that he'd allowed (damn near begged) Rudy to call forth into light. God, how I delight in hanging with Rudy! Because you just can never tell what's going to happen around him; he's like a slutty spark, eager to ignite any kindling available. Because even when I'm a smidge ticked with him, like that particular moment in time, it beats being stuck at home jerking off to pornhub and listening to Sam jerking off to pornhub (I presume) in his own room. (Which, by the by, is what he's doing as I type these words; I can hear the squeaking of his roller chair on the other side of my wall.) Anyhow. ". . .it hurts Rudy, I mean it really hurts! Feels like you're tearing me back there, oh please Rudy . . ." Chad's face a study in pain, and not the kind he welcomed. His hips ceased jiving on the penetration. While I waited there, very patiently, in my humble opinion, despite the unbelievable heaviness in my 'nads. Rudy pulled out of the kid, who sighed in relief but then whimpered that he felt empty. Rudy spread more spit and snot on his fingers and worked them back inside. Chad grimaced but, game as ever, didn't protest. Didn't say anything, which was worrisome in itself, given that from the instant he'd dropped his brat act he'd dribbled his every thought out in a stream-of-consciousness rap that would make James Joyce blanch. It darkles, indeed. "You need some lube," I told Rudy, a bit smug that I figured it out before he did. "Don't have any," he replied. "What? The Wizard of Wanking doesn't have any jerk-gel?" "Screw you and your alliteration, butt-munch. Why would I have any jerk-gel? We've been through this. I'm skinned, I don't need it." "Well, better to have it and not need it as need it and not have it." "Who are you all of a sudden, my father?" "You surely got some Vaseline in the bathroom. Everybody does." Chad, brought back to earth by the lull in intensity, spoke up, his voice almost dreamy, his eyes almost bleary. "Under the mattress, Rudy." "What, in your room? What else you got in there, you devious shit?" "Not, not me . . . please, Rudy, take your fingers out for a minute, it hurts! . . . Under your mattress, on his side," meaning my side, and since when did I have a "side" of Rudy's bed, like I lived here? "Dude, check it out?" I sighed. Still stroking my rager, because I couldn't seem to let it go, I went around the other side of the bed, "my" side. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror above Rudy's chest of drawers. Tall, pale, skinny, sweaty. Masturbating like a sex fiend. I looked ridiculous. Hot, but ridiculous. I put my free hand between the mattress and box springs and sure enough, several inches in, found a small plastic bottle of jerk-gel. "Oh, wait, I remember!" "What?" "I left this over here when I stayed with you those two weeks last summer. I forgot it was there." I tossed it to Rudy. "Me too." Smack! Chad wailed. "How did you know that was there, cracker?" Smack! "You been snooping in my room?" "Nooooo, Rudy, nooooo," Chad whined. "Owww Rudy, you don't have to hit me so hard! Mom found it a while back! When she changed your sheets one day. I heard her telling Dad!" I rejoined the two on the other side of the bed. Wanking, wanking, always wanking. Story of my frikkin' life. "What did Mom say?" Rudy opened the bottle, spread gel on his fingers. "She s-said, she she said she hoped you two weren't doing anything perverted with it!" Rudy laughed. I felt my cheeks redden. "What did Dad say?" He capped the lube bottle and tossed it onto the bed. "He cracked up. Said its only perverted if you guys do it right." Rudy roared at this, so tickled that he had to pause in his preparations to fingerbang his little brother again. I didn't laugh. I couldn't. My cheeks burned with mortification. So not only did I have a "side" in Rudy's bed, now his family just assumed we rutted there too? Rudy saw my expression and roared even louder, laying his wrist on Chad's shoulder and pointing at me with a gel-covered finger. When he could talk again, he said, "Oh, no, Priscilla, our secret is out! I guess I should get you a ring. Isn't that legal here now?" Giggle giggle. "Fuck off," I told Rudy. "I wouldn't marry you if it was legal in Alabama." To Chad, I said, blushing even harder, "We just jerked off together. Nothing else." "Like he's gonna judge?" Rudy asked, withdrawing his hand and dropping it behind Chad's back. "But seriously, cracker," he breathed into the kid's ear; dropping his left hand onto Chad's shoulder, he pushed him down and forward, giving him better access to the kid's backside. Putting Chad's face on a level with my erection (and I'm not sure which felt hotter upon it: his breath or his eyes). "He's right. We ain't never done anything but duo jerk sometimes. Well," Rudy allowed, winking at me, "not until tonight anyhow." He kicked Chad's feet a little further apart. "See, we're not dicksucking fags, like some I could name." And, spreading Chad's asscheeks open, Rudy slid all three fingers back up into his brother, but softly, this time, tenderly. Sweet, sweet sodomy. Chad's eyelids fluttered, and he sighed, reentry boosting him back into that strange head space he craved. "Oh Rudy," he murmured, "that hurts, Rudy, but not as bad and . . . oooohhhhh . . . fills me up, makes me itch . . ." I felt the warmth and moisture of his breath blow across the head of my dick and spread outward until it enveloped my entire loins. It reminded me of my priorities. Shriveling up in shame could wait. Right then I needed a nut. "Okay, cracker, there we go. Do you like that? Squeeze Rudy's dick if you like that." He resumed hunching into his little brother's bound hands, patted Chad on the head, then returned his full attention to me. "Thanks for the tip, dude. Now, weren't we discussing something else?" "We were," I said, waving my erection in his general directions. "This." "Ah yes," he replied, his eyes twinkling devilishly. "And what were we saying about it?" "Just that it was about two point four seconds from busting your eardrum like a cheerleader's hymen on Homecoming. And the clock starts again now." He looked at me in mock-alarm. "Oh, well, that sounds painful, we can't have that. What do you think, cracker, you want to suck some dick?" Finally. ". . . I'll suck his dick, Rudy, while you keep fingering me, I want to blow him while you do that . . . " Chad opened his mouth wide to engulf me. I could feel his breath; small sprites of spittle sizzled on my head. But then Rudy wrapped his free fingers in Chad's red mop, holding his head just a little too far away for the kid to slurp me up. ". . . ow Rudy please let me suck his dick Rudy let go of my hair and let me blow it . . ." "Dammit Rudy!" I thought about barreling forward and ramming myself into the kid's open mouth. But I didn't. Because Chad was Rudy's brother, not mine. Because Rudy ran the show here, not me. Because, in my own way, I enjoyed the tease. I knew I'd get my nut, eventually. All in Rudy's own good time. Rudy fucked this here cow. I merely held the tail. "Wait, wait, wait a minute," Rudy said. He grinned that grin. He'd figured out how to tease Chad and punish me at the same time. He's bright like that. The skunk. "If we just shove cock in cracker's mouth, he's gonna miss out on a cumload of good stuff." " . . . don't wanna miss a cumload of good stuff, Rudy, oh, yeah, that feels, your fingers feel . . ." "Huh?" Rudy nodded Chad's head at my sweaty torso. "That jizz coating your chest and belly. " I looked down at myself. In my estimation all the jizz from our little session earlier had either dripped off or been diluted into nothing by all I'd sweated since then. "And considering how much the cracker enjoyed eating the cum off my cheekbone . . . you did like that, didn't you, cracker?" " . . . oh yeah Rudy I liked that it tasted goooood . . ." "So seeing as how he liked that, why, it would be a shame to deprive him of all that yummy spooge you got there, wouldn't it?" Without waiting for an answer, Rudy shoved Chad's face into my abdomen, using his cheeks to swab up the sweat and (almost non-existant, to my eye) semen. "Lick it up, cracker!" Rudy ordered, and Chad complied, sticking out his tongue and lapping at whatever moisture he could find. Suddenly the need to feel a mouth on my dick diminished. Well, not much, but some. ". . . fuuuuuck . . ." Me this time. The contrast of downy cheeks and slickery tongue on my torso had me scoping for a wall to climb. Rudy slathered the kids face all over my chest and my belly and my . . . ohmigod, my nipples! This was his idea of punishment? Remind me to challenge him again sometime soon. "Feel sweet?" he asked me, grinning that grin again. I nodded, all vocal capabilities temporarily out of order. "What about you, cracker? Tasty enough for ya?" ". . . tasty, Rudy, yeah tasty . . ." Chad breathed all over my skin, a sensation so exquisite that I drooled from two places. "Cool, glad you like it." Rudy pushed Chad's head further down; the kid paused at my outie bellybutton, sucking on it like a teat, and I moaned with the discovery of another spot as sensitive as my nipples. Rudy winked at me. "You too, bruddah." Lower still, until Chad's chin rested in my pubes and my leaking cock lay against his throat, its curve effecting a perfect skin to skin meld. That, I thought, bodes well. Any second now I'm going to be sinking into his hot throat. I throbbed each time I felt him swallow. Alas, 'twas not to be. This time. Rudy yanked Chad's head away, and the kid whimpered at the savage tug on his hair; a couple more tears brimmed and fell. I felt like crying myself at the loss of contact. So close, so fucking close. "Now me, cracker, now me," Rudy demanded brusquely, yanking his fingers free of Chad's ass (". . . oooooooh Rudy, noooo, now I'm all empty . . ."), spinning the kid around to face him, presenting to me Chad's well-reddened asscheeks (surprisingly hairless; only his crack sported any, and not much at that). Rudy firmed his grip on Chad's hair, pulled the kid close so they stood pressed together, stared down into his brother's face. "And what do you say, young cracker?" The temptation proved irresistible. You might say I saw an opening and I took it. ". . . thank you Rudy, thank you, I – YEOW!" Exactly as predicted, the sudden invasion of three spit-slicked fingers into his rectum brought Chad, gasping, up on tiptoe. "UMPH!" Rudy grimaced at me, his eyes crossing from the impact. After a pained moment, he huffed, "Shit, dude, really?" Clearly pissed. ". . . oh nooo Rudy I didn't mean to, I'm sorry, but . . . oh oh oh . . ." His bound hands striving ineffectually to push me away. "Sorry, dude." I grinned at him. Not a bit sorry, and he could tell. It took a sec, but eventually the grimace softened into a rueful half-smile. "Okay, okay, I guess I deserved that, you binche puto." He hooked his left pinkie at me over Chad's shoulder, and I hooked it back with my right (nobody can know the effort it took to unhand my penis to do so, nobody). "Peace?" I nodded. "Peace." And we grinned that grin back and forth, true bruddahs in bro-mance once again. Subplot settled, we turned our attention back to the main story: Chastising Chad; or, The Cracker Cracked. Our hero had managed to relax, had even begun to rotate his ass on my invaders. ". . . oooh oooh okay okay easy please go easy . . ." His fists relaxed, settled onto his lower back, and I clocked the deep red indentions where his nails had dug in. All this time Rudy's right hand had remained wrapped in Chad's hair. Now he pulled the kid's face close again, peered down at him severely. "What the fuck are you waiting for, cracker? You got your ass stuffed, so get to work on this nasty spooge all over my belly." He shoved Chad's head down onto his torso, forcing the kid's hips up and back, impaling him even deeper onto to my fingers. ". . . easy, easy, oh tasty, Rudy, easy, dude . . ." Like me, earlier, Rudy quickened at the breeze of breath across his belly. "Mmmmm, cracker, good cracker," Rudy crooned. I'd never known him to pay any attention to his nipples, but he sure seemed to enjoy what the kid did to them now. He wound his other hand into his brother's hair so as to steer better, but he jerked a lot on the reins, bringing a wounded whimper from Chad with every sudden yank. Yet Chad didn't complain, just worked with dedicated zeal at his assigned route. "You lick that up, you slurp that jizzum right off me, I might give ya more to eat." Rudy and his deals. I chuckled and turned my attention to the, um, task at hand. (My left hand, to be exact; you might surmise the actions of my right.) By now the kid's hole had relaxed around my fingers (due entirely to his brother's exertions; that, and the liberal amount of gel he'd been lubed with), and he wriggled on them with an increasing fervor. I hadn't paid much attention before, when I'd been preoccupied with my revenge and then the subsequent truce, but now I marveled at the texture and tightness of the kid's tunnel. Because it gripped like a velvet vise. Because it slid around and down and up my fuckfingers like a well-oiled glove. It felt nothing like a pussy, though it burned hot and tight and (synthetically, of course) slick. I began to work my fingers into it, digging in, rotating counter to his own wriggle rhythm. When I slid across a small knob in the bottom of his tunnel, he shivered and pushed back against me. Intuiting that to be the kid's prostate, I focused on it, stroking it and knuckling it, and Chad moaned, miraculously inarticulate, and undulated his chubby ass against the penetration. I'd never paid the slightest bit of attention to my best friends brother's butt. Now I saw it to be well-shaped, full and round and as yet smooth. It glistened with sweat, highlighting the dark pink handprints from Rudy's ass-smacks and the field of goose pimples that decorated his buttocks like flowers of flesh. Curious, I pried my fist from my boner and scratched at his lower back, worked my way up his spine, scratching deep, watching more bumps sprout all over his back and up to his neck. ". . . ah ah oh, ah, itchy, scratch it, please, Rudy, somebody, ah, oooh . . ." "That's it, cracker, show me you like it." He'd got Chad perpendicular by then, had the kid's chin resting in the jungle of his dark blond pubes. Kid's ass raised up and gyrating on my fuckfingers. Hole gripping and slipping and grooving on the stimulation. Agony, comrades, sheer agony I suffered. My cock longed to probe the kid's depths; my right hand despaired that it could not measure up; the fingers of my left reveled in the velvet vise. Hear me? Reh-veled. Rudy looked at me, and he wore no grin on those perfect, lust-puffy red lips. His grim, sweaty visage and haunted eyes told me our time had come. Finally, I understood. While he'd been teasing Chad (and to a lesser extent, me) he'd also been teasing himself. Building up his own fire until it blazed. He yanked Chad's head up and away from his torso; at the same moment I slid my fingers out of the kid's hole. Caught between the tug on his hair and the sudden withdrawal of tactile sensation at his lips and ass, Chad could but whimper and writhe. ". . . ow ow ow Rudy, empty now, Rudy, please please . . ." His hands clenched into fists at the small of his back. Rudy pressed his hair-shrouded fist against the kid's skull, pushing him down and around until he had the kid kneeling, his back against the bed with his hands trapped between. Rudy shuffled around until he stood diagonally next to me, our hips touching. Our cocks angled towards each other, damn near kissing. They formed an arrowhead just inches from the kid's parted lips. Rudy and I slipped our arms around each others waist. I think we both knew we'd need the support. ". . . empty now so empty but Rudy you can put your fingers back in me later, right now I wanna suck your cock, I wanna suck both of you, I do . . ." He gazed up at us, down at our cocks, up at us again. Awaiting permission, and not very patiently. His face glistened with the combined sweat of three and semen of two. The hand on my hip rested there lightly and companionably; the hand in Chad's hair pulled him close, closer still. Rudy decided to sneak in a little extra tease. "You ready?" he asked all three of us. All of us nodded, Chad chiming in vocally, of course. ". . . yes Rudy yes ready please Rudy let me suck you . . ." Rudy nodded to me. "After you, my bruddah." I winked. "No, no, after you, I insist!" Now that the blowjob loomed, I felt I could afford to wait a few more seconds. "Oh, but then I'd be disgraced as a – ooooooh shit!" Seems that Chad had grown tired of waiting, had endured all the tease and taunt he could handle, and had just snapped. Heedless of the fist still twisted in his hair he'd lunged forward and buried half of Rudy's cock in his mouth. "Oh, fuck, Chad! Bad cracker, baaaa-ad cracker!" But he looked disinclined to stop the lad. Even started to fuck face, using his fistful of hair to yank Chad's mouth further and further down. The kid gagging but game. "Ouch! Goddammit cracker remember what I told you about your teeth! . . . Okay, yeah, better, that's it . . ." I watched avidly, stroking myself with my left hand (and, for the record, it doesn't feel so much like somebody else's hand as it does just plain awkward), enjoying the spectacle of my bruddah sliding his saliva-slick cock in and out of his brother's mouth, thrusting in a little deeper inside each time. Chad's face waxed beatific; his eyes glazed over; his thick lips worshiped Rudy's cock like a superhero candy-cane. Impulsively I let go my boner and wrapped up a hank of the kid's hair in my own fist. Rudy . . . well you know what he grinned at me. I caught his rhythm easily, and between the two of us we helped the kid suck Rudy's dick, sinking it in little by little, eventually managing to bury his nose in those dark blond curls. We picked up the pace and the intensity then, bobbing Chad up and down on Rudy's rod. And at some unspoken signal, and with absolutely no fanfare, we pulled the kid off Rudy's cock and onto my own. Um. Words don't exist. Now, I don't know why, whether because Rudy had opened the kid's throat or because my cock curves like it does, but I skated between his lips, across his tongue, and all the way down his throat in one slick movement. Bottomed out. Kid's nose in my sparse pubes. His chin on my balls. Four or five downy wisps of beard tickled my scandalous smoothness. Not a single choke or gasp or gag from the kid. He just held me there, working his tongue on my undershaft, his throat muscles on my curve. I dared not move. Because if I did I might explode. Not just into orgasm, but into pieces. Rudy sensed my predicament. We kept Chad motionless on me, kept me buried in his throat for days, hours, years, minutes, until he finally began to choke and I finally felt I could move without shattering. We pulled back, resting my circumcision scar on his lips, and let the kid catch his breath. My orgasm had retreated to the bottom of my balls, where it pulsed and pouted like a sulky child. ". . . please . . ." And then, of course, it got serious. We started fucking his face for real, dawg. Worked his mouth back and forth between us, a few strokes here, a couple licks there. Changed up the tempo, now thrusting furiously into him, making him gag and cough and sputter, now feeding it to him slow but firm, torturing ourselves as well as him. As if he knew our secret wish, he even tried to catch both our cocks at once, and actually managed the trick a couple times. His mouth, though open wide enough to leave stretch marks, remained too small to handle us paired, but he proved remarkably adept at sucking and nibbling and rolling our smushed-together heads over and around his lips. Rudy and I stood pressed hip to slippery hip, our arms around our waists, leaning against and into each other. Remember that one being we transformed into earlier, when we double teamed my fists? Well, it happened again here. We melted like clouds into ourselves. Synchronized heartbeats and cockthrobs. We probably leaked equal amounts of pre-cum. We mumbled things between us, obscenities, praises, prayers, that we alone would ever be able to decipher. The pressure rose. The prophesied testosterone funk held all oxygen hostage. Sweat misted like summer rain. Orgasms surely rode in like cavalry on the horizon, right? Wrong. I could've happily rode away with the cavalry, but Rudy had other ideas. He suddenly yanked Chad's head away from our crotch and broke away even from me. I took no offense; I could tell how close he skated toward the edge; but I did feel exposed and vulnerable and incomplete without him. I let go my fist in Chad's hair and stepped back, wondering just how Rudy planned to top the last act. ". . . nooo Rudy please don't, give me cock give me your cock . . ." "In a minute, cracker," Rudy replied, his voice hoarse. His rager jounced and bounced in front of him, spooling and drooling. "In a minute I'm going to give you my cock in a new kind of way." He spoke to Chad, but he grinned at me. Oh, yeah, I thought, amused and titillated. Bring on the buttfucking. Apparently Chad reached the same conclusion. "Rudy, no, please, no! Don't do it Rudy, use your fingers, yeah, do me with your fingers, but please, don't put your cock in me! It's too big and I'm too small!" Wailing, and not yet penetrated. Shameful. "Shut the fuck up, putito," Rudy snarled, pulling Chad up by the hair. "This is about what me and my bruddah want now, not you." Not entirely true, as evidenced by the rigid, dripping tumescence the kid displayed when Rudy had him on his feet and (pun certainly intended) erect. It appeared undaunted, perhaps even intrigued, at the thought of penetration. But we all knew by then how Chad craved coercion. Rudy spun the kid around, finally let go his hair (I shuddered at the thought of how his scalp would feel in the morning) and untied his hands; the boxers seemed to fall right off. ("Cracker coulda shrugged outta that knot in about two seconds, if he really wanted," Rudy told me later. "He was bound only in his mind." "Cool." "Yeah.") Chad rubbed his wrists briefly, then, as Rudy spun him back around, went to grab at his cock, and Rudy, as if expecting the move, intercepted and blocked it. Chad moaned. "No no no, cracker," Rudy scolded the boy. "You want me to chain you spread-eagle to the bedposts?" Like we had a chain handy. "Nuh nuh no," Chad stammered out. "Please Rudy no, I'll be good!" Rudy shoved the kid backwards on to the mattress. "Then keep your hands outta trouble. Don't touch your pathetic little toothpick there." Toothpick? Shit, that tree trunk could produce a thousand of 'em. "And keep them out of my way, too. Don't try to push me off." "I . . . I'll try, Rudy, but please, Rudy, you can't, oh you can't do me that way, you're too big, Rudy, you can put your fingers in but please Rudy don't . . ." For all his pleading, still Chad allowed himself to be pushed onto his back, to be scooted towards the center of the mattress. Mindful of Rudy's words, he even spread his arms above his head, gifting his older brother with complete submission. Eyes half-closed, brimming with tears and lust. Mouth slurring litanies of need and denial. Sweat coating his face, his torso, glistening like wildfire in his red pubes. Peter quivering and leaking against his belly. His fearful longing glimmered like a tangible taste in the funk. Rudy crawled up after him, knelt between his brothers thighs. ". . . no no no no no . . ." Chad chanted, but when Rudy grasped his ankles and lifted them, he trembled and obeyed. Rudy pushed the kid's legs back so far his kneecaps grazed the sheet, spreading out his asscheeks and revealing his swollen, down-fringed hole. A new aroma wafted into the funk; it was raw, and earthy, very musty but not at all unpleasant. The kid's asshole glistened in the light, shiny with jerk-gel. A small pink hole, all puffy from the attention already received, all a-quiver with the knowledge that more attention lay in the future. It looked so pitiful, and defenseless, and way too tiny to absorb anything so big as fingers or, heaven forbid, a six and a half by four and a quarter inch penis. The misgivings refused to go away even as the three fingers on my left hand throbbed with the memory of their sojourn inside. Rudy scooched forward and lay his erection along the kid's crack. He leaned forward, between the kid's spread knees, and hunched his hips, sliding the length of his rager along that sparsely furred valley. Both brothers groaned at the contact. "So hot, so hot . . ." ". . . oh Rudy, Rudy, oh Christ Rudy, that . . . that . . . oh god Rudy . . . that feels, yeah, Rudy, I like that, but Rudy, please please please don't put it in me . . ." "Got to, cracker, I got to." Putting his full weight onto that genital/asscrack conjunction, slowly but forcefully rubbing back and forth, back and forth, feeling the kid's hole teasing his undershaft and his aching cockhead. "Its calling me, talking to me, can't you hear it?" ". . . I can hear it Rudy but please don't Rudy I'm afraid! I'm so itchy but I'm afraid. . ." Rudy leaned in closer and whispered, so low I almost didn't hear him (and I'm not quite sure that wasn't the intention), "I'm afraid too, bro." Like only the two of them existed in the world. They tripped along some brotherly connection that had no room for me. I felt excluded, and a little bit jealous. But I didn't intrude. Not that I wasn't tempted. "So we have to, Rudy?" His voice full of sadness, quarts and gallons of sadness, but also acceptance and maybe just a jot or so of relief. Because the decision had been taken out of his hands. Because what Rudy wanted, Rudy got. Because he wanted it too. Chad wanted it too. "We have to, Chad." He leaned in closer, until he ran the risk of kissing that trembling mouth. "I'll go easy, I promise. I love you and I'll go easy. Say it. Rudy loves me and he'll go easy." Still grinding against the kid's hole, slow and rhythmic, knock knock knocking at the back door. Chad sighed, "Rudy loves me and he'll go easy. Rudy loves me and . . .", repeating it, over and over, under his breath. Rudy straightened up and, still clutching an ankle in each hand, keeping those legs spread and ass lifted, he shuffled back on the bed, his erection raising from its tryst with the kids asscrack to stand loud and proud and shiny against his hairy, matted belly. "Hand me a pillow, dude?" He'd remembered I existed. How nice of him. I snatched a pillow and heaved it at him one-handed. Rudy, quick as ever, even stoned, even horny, dropped an ankle and caught the pillow against his chest. He look at me quizzically. "All right?" he asked me as he stuffed it under Chad's hips. I took a deep breath and nodded. "All right." My problem, not his. I felt ridiculous for even having the problem. My boner began to droop. I don't think he believed me but he gave it pass. "Toss me another one?" Holding his right hand in front of him like he half-feared I'd shoot it at him. ". . . loves me and he'll go easy Rudy . . ." Hands curled into loose fists. Eyes squeezed shut as he repeated his mantra. I very gently and considerately eased the pillow into Rudy's grasp. He cocked his head and eyed me uncertainly for a minute while I gazed back in defiant innocence. At last he shrugged and prodded the second pillow under the first, raising Chad's ass to a height deemed acceptable. He dropped his left hand from Chad's ankle to his upper thigh, used his right hand to spread the cheeks wider, to open the hole a touch more. "Where's the lube, dude?" I retrieved it from where he'd dropped it earlier. At his indication I poured some jerk-gel directly onto Chad's hole, liberally covering Rudy's fingers at the same time. Chad hissed as the cold gel oozed down on his hot, sweaty skin. Rudy rubbed it into the kid, up and down along his crack, before inserting a finger, just one this time, into him. ". . . ooooohhh Rudy . . ." The kid's hole closed around Rudy's digit like it owed him money. Rudy swirled it around inside the kid, screwing it in and out with a simple, unhurried beat. Then, without warning, he slid in a second finger. Chad gasped, and moaned, and clutched and twisted at the sheet above his head. Rudy stirred the fuckfingers around the kids hole like a spoon inside a good cup of joe. The third finger quickly joined the first two, and the kid started shaking. Rudy frigged the kids ass with a strong, steady rhythm, but he moved his other hand from Chad's thigh to rub and pet Chad's furry chest. And he crooned to Chad, as if to a young child, nonsense words that nonetheless has the effect of calming the kid's shakes. Some of the worried stresses of Chad's moaning and whimpering eased, became more purely lustful. ". . . all itchy you're making me all . . ." "Hey, dude?" "Yeah?" I remained a bit churlish. Couldn't help it. Rudy ignored my churlishness, just grinned at me. "Help a fella out?" He glanced down at his rock hard penis, then back up at me. "My own hands are otherwise occupied," he finished, and, ah! there he was, the Rudy I knew and loved, my partner in crime all these years. My resentment and jealousy washed away, replaced by something akin to relief. That he would ask me to lube him up only proved how much he valued and trusted me. Couldn't act all girly about it, though. "Jeez, Rude, I ain't the cracker fag here," I said, even as I squirted some jerk-gel into my palm. "I wouldn't do this for nobody but you." My drooping meat resumed its former posture. Grin. ". . . so itchy . . ." While he rubbed Chad's chest with one hand and pistoned his fingers in and out of the kid's hole with the other, I grasped Rudy's cock with my very own slicked-up right hand, slathered the gel over every inch. His breathing quickened at my touch, and he hunched lightly into my fist as I stroked and lubed. When I'd held his cock earlier, pressed it against mine during our first encounter, I'd had neither time nor mind to appreciate nuance. Now I possessed both, and I appreciated. I noted the weight of it in my grasp, traced the veins running the length of the shaft, marveled at the sleek feel of the foreskin sliding up and down on the head. I stroked him to the same beat he used in opening the kid, watched his hairy balls draw up, observed the precum as it drooled from his piss slit. "Um, dude?" "Yeah?" Not even trying to hide my fascination with his junk. "If you want a pic, all you gotta do is ask." Laughing at me. I didn't care. Who knew when I'd get another chance to study it this close. Although, come to think, he might actually give me a pic. If I asked. Hmmm . . . Nah. "Just observing the differences," I told him. "First time I ever touched somebody's else penis." "What does it feel like?" I shrugged. "A penis. A little different from mine, but essentially the same." I kept on stroking and lubing, enjoying it despite my conclusion about penises (penii?) in general. Because it was Rudy's penis. Because I felt connected to it tonight. Because I was stoned and embracing novel sensations. "Well, I can't say I don't relish your technique there, my bestest friend in the whole wide world, but I kinda want . . . no, I kinda need to do something else with it now." ". . . I'm not sure, Rudy, I'm not sure, but I'm itchy Rudy, please make it stop itching . . ." "Your servant, sir," I smiled at him. He shuffled forward, closer to Chad's upturned ass, still whirling and twirling his fingers around the kid's hole. Closer. I aimed his cock at the penetration site. In a perfectly choreographed exchange, he pulled free his fingers and, before the surprised hole could snap back from dilation, I positioned Rudy's head there and he slid inside, bragging, a good two inches before Chad noticed. But when he did notice . . . ". . . OOOOOHHH RUDY OOOOOWWWWW ohmigod Rudy it hurts please take it out . . ." The hole tried to tighten, tried to expel the intruder, but Rudy held firm. He stopped moving forward, but neither did he pull it back. Chad writhed there on his back, his legs spread wide, impaled on his brother's cock. His hands shot up from over his head, as if to push Rudy away, but at the last second he regained control of them and slapped them down on the bed beside him, scratching and clawing at the sheet. Tears flowed freely from his eyes, and he rolled his head back and forth on the bed. ". . . hurts hurts itchy but hurts . . ." Rudy leaned forward, continuing to rub Chad's chest with one hand; he laid a finger of the other hand (one of the fingers that had until recently been churning around in the kid's ass) across Chad's lips. "Ssh, ssh, hush, cracker," he soothed. "Ssh, settle down, relax, you're doing fine . . ." He crooned on in the same vein, rubbing, tracing, until the kid quieted some. He opened his tear-drowned eyes and locked his gaze with Rudy. "Say it, cracker, say it . . ." Obediently, if weakly, Chad resumed his mantra. "Rudy loves me and is going easy, Rudy loves me . . ." He relaxed some more, and Rudy dared slip in another inch. I held my hand against Rudy's crotch, his pubes a damp, prickly tickle against my gel-coated palm, his boner tense and proud between my fingers, and watched the kid's sphincter flutter around the shaft. Chad winced, grimaced, muttered the words faster and louder, but he made no objection. Rudy held his brother's regard, returned it, watched the kid's eyes for any token of resistance as he began a long, slow, determined entry into Chad's bowels. The two of them were gone again, off into that zone of unconditional love and utter trust that underpins the best filial relationships. Jealousy sparked in me again, not because they'd locked me out, but because they shared something between them, something vital, something I'd never experienced with Sam. We'd never had a bonding moment, sexually related or not. We loved each other, obviously, but I don't think we'd ever shown it. I don't think we knew we could. A subtle yearning ignited in me, and I wondered, for a minute, before I was rudely drawn back to reality by the pressure of the kid's buttcheeks on the back of my hand. Only my flesh prevented Rudy from being balls deep in his brother's ass. Reluctantly, I relinquished my grip, removed my cockblocking flesh, and, with a strangled, pitiable whimper from Chad and a single heartfelt sigh from Rudy, the last inch slid inside the kid. Chad's whimper dwindled off into a whine and then stopped completely as he stayed his breath and struggled to accommodate Rudy's length and girth within him. For his part, Rudy posed perfectly motionless; his eyes, locked with Chad's, glazed over. Sweat shivered and sizzled between the brothers. A carnal statue, they fused together at the most basic physical level, quivering with sexual tension, until Chad broke the spell. It started with a low growl in the back of his throat, a growl that grew in volume and intensity, louder and louder, like water relentlessly working to breach a dam. The dam busted, and words of flood spilled out, violent and unstoppable. "For Christ's sake, Rudy, don't just sit there all crammed up in me like that, you said you wanted to fuck me so Rudy for Christ's sake FUCK ME FUCK ME!" He screamed the words, this honorable young man who wouldn't say shit if he found some in his hat, he yelled them out while the tears flowed from his eyes and his fists beat the mattress he lay upon. He screamed it again. "FUCK ME!" Rudy blinked at his brother, nonplussed. I knew why he'd stopped root deep in the kid. He teetered on the edge of orgasm. Chad appealed to me this time. "Didn't Rudy say he wanted to fuck me? Didn't he say he HAD to fuck me?" I chuckled. "I believe those were his words, yeah." "Then why ain't he? Why is he just sitting there? Don't he know how to fuck?" I guess the shock of Chad's tirade scared away Rudy's impending orgasm. Before I could stop giggling long enough to answer he snatched his hands from the kid's chest and grabbed his ankles, pushing them up and apart, sinking his dick even deeper, if possible, into Chad's hole. The kid screeched at the pressure (and I winced in sympathy) but Rudy refused to let up. "Oh, cracker, yeah, I know how to fuck." Grinding into Chad's bowels, rotating his hips, reaming the virgin tightness out of the kid's sphincter. Chad writhed under him, rendered (temporarily, be sure) speechless. He could only grunt. "Let me prove it to ya." Rudy's face and tone dripped with condescension. "I was only resting it in you so you could get used to it," he lied. "But if you want me to just fuck the shit out of you, why, I can do that!" He slid out of the kid's hole, his shaft gleaming in the light, and, just as quickly, shoved it back in until belly kissed taint. Chad gasped. Out, then in. Again. Setting a good, hard pace, not quite a gallop, but more than a trot. A canter, maybe. And the kid rode it like a champ. ". . . oh christ Rudy it hurts omigod it burns please don't hurt me Rudy but you're scratching where I itch Rudy . . ." Crocodile tears all a-flow. ". . . hurts . . ." I bet, I thought. I bet it hurts. Rudy's pace never flagged. He spread the kid's legs and worked his hole with a vengeance, driving in and out at that steady canter, slapping his balls against the kids upturned ass, pausing every now and then to grind deep. Every time he did, Chad groaned way back in his throat, a guttural, agonized sound that made me queasy. My asshole clenched as if it figured that if the price of not letting anything in was not letting anything out, either, well, 'twas a fair bargain. I'll admit I harbored a faint curiosity regarding the cause of the goose-bumps that seemed to have sprouted over every inch of Chad's body, but that was outweighed by my horror of the discomfort the kid surely suffered to snatch a little pleasure. Never, I resolved, never ever would my exit become an entry. Sigh. If I had known the peculiar set of circumstances that lay in my not too distant future, perhaps my hole would have cracked under the pressure of its clench. Anyhow. "Fuck, cracker, your hole is pudding pie," Rudy moaned. "Pudding fuckin' pie." ". . . yeah Rudy fuck me fuck my pudding pie, I itch like crazy in there but you're scratching it Rudy . . ." Pudding pie? Scratching itches? Sounds funny, huh? Yeah, trite. I always thought shit like that was a porn cliché too. But here, now, in the moment? It was raw, unadulterated. Honest. Each cliché dripped with the authenticity of fresh-churned semen. Man, how hot to watch and listen to them fuck. Rudy driving away at that same rapid, controlled pace, Chad tossing his head around on the mattress, his hands ripping and tearing at the sheet. Pound pound pound grind moan grind pound pound pound. The kid's peter dribbling spooge out in a pool deep enough to swim in on his belly. "So, uh, Rudy." Pause. "Rudy!" He turned a bleary eye to me. "Yeah dude?" "How does it feel?" "Like pudding pie. Weren't you listening?" Pound pound pound. . . . "Yeah, I heard that part. I mean, compared to a chick's ass?" Grind . . . ". . . oooh Rudy your cock is so big in me oh christ Rudy how it hurts . . ." . . . grind. "I only ever fucked Inbred Wanda's ass, and it wasn't hardly any tighter than her cooze." Pound pound pound. . . . "But does the crackers hole feel any different, him being a guy?" Rudy thought about it, distractedly. Grind . . . ". . . shit Rudy oh god Rudy fuck me please Rudy it hurts but fuck me anyway . . ." . . . grind. "You ever had red velvet cake? You know how it tastes just like chocolate cake?" "Yeah, mostly it does. So?" Pound pound pound . . . "It's like the only difference between Inbred Wanda's red velvet cake and Chad's chocolate one is red food coloring." Well, my mom is a bitch of a baker, and I know there's a helluva lot more difference between the two cakes than that, but I understood what he meant. He'd come up with a pretty good analogy despite his distraction. "Same great taste, mostly." Grind . . . ". . . Ruuuu-deeeeeeee . . ." . . . grind. "It's an ass, dude. A mighty fine and tight and hot ass, true, but only an ass all the same." Pound pound pound. Chad's incessant mumbling and pleading intensified the longer he lay there getting plugged. He squirmed around under Rudy like a crazed epileptic, wriggling his own hips against the invasion, moaning about itches and scratches and big fucking cocks. "Yo, dude, plug up the cracker's mouth, would ya? Can't hear myself bone, here." I laughed. "As you wish, Buttercup." "Just do it, Wesley, or I'll most likely kill you in the morning." ". . . Ruuuu-deeeeeee fuck me oh god oh christ it hurts but fuck me keep scratching on that itch Ruuuu-deeeee . . ." I bent over the kid's face from the back, facing Rudy; I wanted to keep watching that shiny shaft piston in and out of that absorbing asshole. Chad shut up his soliloquy when I fed my cock, upside down, into his mouth. He sucked at the head greedily, licking up the spooge that dripped out, but it quickly became apparent to me that between my curve and his position there existed absolutely no possible way to sink the whole thing into his throat. Rather than torture myself I pulled my cock out of his mouth (I'm sure I don't need to tell you how willingly he let me out), shuffled forward until my knees straddled the kid's head, and dropped my nuts between his yet-protesting lips. He locked onto them with vacuum suction, licking and sucking and slavering spit and muttered pleas all over them. I shivered with each pass of his tongue, every nibble of his lips. I'd been transported to someplace far away from the old neighborhood, somewhere obscene, within a tight bubble of sexual debauchery that narrowed down to Rudy's rager screwing his brothers hole at a relentless, determined pace and to the rough, eager tongue washing down my scrotum. The tongue slid further back, danced and flickered all over my taint, and the kid's hands abandoned their sheet-twisting and clapped onto my asscheeks, kneading them, pinching them. Guiding me forward as his tongue tickled further back, into my asscrack. Parting my cheeks so that runaway devil could skate ever closer to my quivering, not quite anticipating hole. I rode the kids face, not even touching my own cock at all. No biggie. I had a feeling that my cock would soon be suffocated with attention, and, besides, I didn't need the extra stimulation right then anyhow. While I sat there, grinding into the kid's face, grunting with the effort of directing my hole to meet up with his tongue, watching Rudy's cock drill over and over into his brother's soft, giving flesh, Rudy scooped up the bottle of jerk-gel and squeezed some out into his palm, then tossed the bottle away and reached across his brother's belly to grasp my rager into his newly-slickened fist. So lost was I in sensation that I failed to note him performing these actions, but I sure as shit noted it when his fingers wrapped around my boner. I think I howled again. At the same moment Chad's tongue finally touched down at my ground zero, the most intimate and personal part of my body, and he defiled it with a swipe of his tongue, digging into the hole, fucking into it. Rudy slathered the lube up and down my cock, Chad snake-flickered his tongue in and out of my ass. Talk about cumming unglued! Orgasm swelled inside me, battering down the door I'd shut it behind earlier, and I fought a quick and brutal battle to hold it at bay, to wrestle it back into its cubbyhole at the bottom of my balls. It sulked there, pouting, furiously throbbing its displeasure throughout my lower abdomen. At last able to breath again, I opened my eyes to find Rudy in my face, wearing that grin. "Cracker's got his tongue in your ass, don't he?" "Yuh, yeah, how could you tell?" "I recognize the expression. Inbred Wanda did it to me once. I almost climbed out of my skin." I nodded. "Yeah." I dropped my gaze to his fist on my boner, watched him wank it slick. "Just returning the favor," Rudy said. "Helping my bruddah out." "How does it feel?" He considered, stroking me with the same relentless drive he used on the kid's hole. "Like you said, dude. Feels like a penis." "I bet you even know what it's thinking." Grin. "Yup. It wants a turn at Chad's tight pudding pie." "You must be psychic. It was thinking those very words." His hand, oh lord his slickery hand; that tongue, oh lady that slippery tongue. They kept me tingling, kept me straddling the line between orgasm foreshadowed and orgasm imminent. "Hey cracker," Rudy called, "you care if my bruddah here hits this sweet tang?" Chad said something into my asshole, like it was a dictaphone or something, but his words, though they ricocheted ping ping ping through my hole and cock and balls, were completely incomprehensible. The general tone, however, seemed to indicate a willingness to let this bruddah hit that sweet tang. "Come on, dude, you're gonna dig this," Rudy said, released my cock (oh! the loss!) and slowly eased his cock out of Chad's hole. The kid protested, mostly into my ass, but as I rose off his face his babble flowed clearly and understandably. ". . . oh no Ruuu-deee I feel all empty and itchy and I didn't know ass tasted like that, it was raw and funky, please, let me have some more asshole or cock I don't care which one and please please please somebody stick a cock in me and fuck me fuck me FUCK ME . . ." The kid considerately kept his legs spread and ass elevated as I scooted around and took Rudy's place between his splayed thighs. I grabbed Chad's ankles as Rudy had done, spreading him even wider. His violated hole still spasmed and twitched, bemoaning the loss of Rudy's cock. It frothed with lube and spooge and desire. "Hey, Rudy, help a bruddah out?" ". . . please please give me cock, i'm just a hole that needs filling, fill me up please . . ." "Nobody else but you, dude. Nobody." He took me again into his grip, guided me closer to Chad's yet partially dilated hole. Tickled and dandled my head at the entrance to that tunnel, amping up the frustration and anticipation for both me and the kid. At last, with the tension ratcheted up to within an nth of shattering, Rudy positioned me at the adit, and I slid inside, the head of my cock disappearing into his hole, the curve of my shaft following. Chad gasped, and rotated his hips, trying to accommodate this new invader. ". . . oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck it hurts feels different from yours Rudy . . ." he whimpered, clearly feeling more discomfort from my entrance that he had from Rudy's. Well, maybe not more, but certainly different. "Shut the fuck up, cracker," Rudy said harshly. "Just lay there and take it." ". . . but Rudy it hurts . . ." I slid further in, burying a third of my rager in him. His tunnel gripped my cock in a hot, form-fitting sleeve of pulsing muscles. I couldn't stop, though his hole seemed to fight me every inch of the way. ". . . stretching me wrong . . ." "Oh hell," Rudy said, fed up with the whining. He plunked his butt down on Chad's face much the same way as I had earlier, but he didn't bother with the nut wash. "Talk into my ass, cracker, and . . . oh yeah . . . like that . . . lick it . . . yeah . . ." I sank further into that vise, yeah, it gripped me tighter than any pussy I'd sampled, it pulled me in like I had iron fillings in my balls and Chad intestines carried a magnet. My long denied orgasm knocked at the door, hopeful, but I ignored the summons, pushed it away. I knew a mind-blowing cum awaited me in the near future, and lord knows I would have welcomed it home at any given moment, but it wasn't time to shoot yet. Rudy would let me know – let all of us know – when to blow. Finally I hit bottom, felt his ass pressing against my flesh, felt my pulsating boner buried deep inside this throbbing, clutching glove. "Go ahead, dude, fuck the little cracker. Feels good the way his hole grips your cock, don't it? Yeah, like he's milking it . . . that's right, cracker, you can add asslicker to your formal cocksucking buttfucked faggot title, open that hole, drill it with your tongue . . ." He closed his eyes and rode Chad's face like a carnival attraction, wanking his glistening cock with his right hand, raising his left hand to lay it on my shoulder, lightly, for balance. Slowly, uncertainly, at least at first, I flexed my hips and began to fuck. I withdrew at just past a snail's pace, feeling my shaft's curve rub across his prostate. He wriggled his body madly underneath me, his hands gripping Rudy's thighs hard enough to leave bruises, his cock rock-hard and spilling. I thrust in again, relishing the play of his rectal muscles along my rod, gripping it tight. I picked up the pace, not as fast as Rudy's, but getting there. I'm sure Rudy's mechanical ferocity gets results, but I like to play when I fuck. I vary the pace, vary the pattern of entry and withdrawal, spiral and twist on the thrust, and I gave Chad (and Rudy, with my fist) the full benefit of my range. I looked down at the spot where our bodies joined, watching my cock slide in and out of his hole, aroused and informed by the knowledge that 'twas my cock spreading that field of fuckflowers all over his cheeks and inner thighs. "Yeah, dude, fuck his ass, ride him with that big curved cock," Rudy breathed, and I looked up to find him watching my work too. I reached out and took his cock in my hand. I had no reason to do it this time, he remained slick with plenty of jerk-gel coating his flesh, but I felt like playing with his cock; so I did. He made no objection, just sat back and enjoyed my hand and Chad's tongue and the live porn show of my cock cornholing his brother. "Feels awesome, don't it?" Oh, it felt grand, no doubt about it, but something seemed wrong. I kept up the fuck, analyzing the pattern, until I isolated the problem. With every thrust, either his tunnel tried to bend my dick to a more comfortable angle or my dick tried to batter his tunnel into a more accommodating shape. As I gained an insight into the problem, a simple, elegant solution occurred to me. "Rudy?" Pause. "Rudy!" "Yeah, dude, what?" "I, uh, I hate to interrupt your chin ride . . ." "Go on, my bruddah, I see lots of chin rides in my future." ". . . but you mind if we flip Chad over onto his belly?" Rudy snorted. "What, you like your crackers salty side down?" Not one of his better sallies. I merely stared at him and shook my head. "Aren't you tired, Rudy?" The alien voice cut through the miasma of sex and games like the reek of expensive bourbon sliced through the funk. Rudy paled, and I whipped my head around to face the door. Where stood Rudy and Chad's father, cigarette dangling from his lips, tie and shoes in hand. This is it, I thought. This is how the world ends. With a bang, but no whimper. I froze, my cock half-buried in this man's young son. At last Rudy found his voice. "Um, what, Dad?" Striving for naturalness of tone, as if he weren't sitting on his younger brother's face. With his face half-flushed and boner wilting a little in my paralyzed hand, he turned to look at his father. "I didn't hear you." Mr Q leaned against the door frame; the slight jar knocked ash from his cigarette onto the wrinkled remnants of his white shirt. His lack of height and solid girth and bright red hair mark him as the old block from which Chad chipped. I bet the kid thanks God every day he didn't also inherit his dad's clown-wide mouth and flat, misshapen nose. "I asked if you were tired? And ashamed? I would be, walking all that way for a lame joke." Rudy forced a laugh, but a true one escaped from my lips before I could stop it. Mr Q didn't appear to be too upset at finding an orgy going on in his son's bedroom, indeed he seemed to be rather amused, so once I resumed breathing the absurdity of the situation just flat out overwhelmed me. Between and under us, Chad's writhing slowed and stopped as he realized that something had gone wrong. With Rudy's thighs pressing against his ears like that, it's doubtful he understood exactly what. Mr Q's eyes wandered blearily over to me, appeared to recognize me for the first time. "Hey there, uh, uh, son," he said, and I sighed. I've been in and out of his house for well over a decade, and he can never remember my name. And at the moment he wasn't much interested in me anyway, at least personally. "Rudy," Mr Q said severely, "aren't you restricted from having company when your mom and I are out?" He wet two fingertips and snuffed out his cigarette. "Uh, yeah, Dad, I . . ." "It was my fault, Mr Q," I jumped in, hoping to keep Rudy out of as much trouble as I could, "I had a fight with my mom and just showed up here." I figured it was too late for him to call and corroborate my story with her, and tomorrow he probably wouldn't remember. He ignored my attempt to take the blame, focusing on Rudy. "You know better," he said. "One week house arrest." "But, dad, I . . ." His cock down to just half-hard now, and fading fast. "You wanna go for two?" Sigh. "No. Sir." Sullen and laced with teen attitude, but not quite enough to earn more punishment. "All right then." Mr Q stepped on into the room, wrinkling his nose at the funk. "Jesus Christ it stinks in here." He tossed his extinguished fag into the trash can next to Rudy's desk, and approached the bed. "Rudy, climb off your brother's face for a minute." Rudy slid off Chad's head; I slid gently out of his ass and leaned back on my haunches. My cock, glistening and undaunted, bounced up proud and free. Chad had his eyes closed and he remained clutched up, with his legs spread and his head thrown back, for half a beat before he realized he'd been fully abandoned. His mouth started to protest but the words died in his throat when he opened his eyes and saw his father standing above him. He gaped at Mr Q as if at an apparition, mouth flapping like a fish, and eventually he managed to squeak out, "Duh, duh, Dad?" He dropped his legs to the bed in stupefaction and mortification; his heels bounced off the mattress with an audible thump. "Hiya tiger," Mr Q said, smiling fondly at his son. "Quick question here, son, and be honest with me." He sat down on the bed beside Chad. "Are these guys hurting you?" "Uh, uh, what, Dad? Hurting me?" I'd thought Chad had cycled through all the colors of embarrassment when Rudy toyed with him earlier, but he found yet another shade of red in his repertoire. The humiliation worked for him, though; unlike his brother's, his rager raged on, thick and bad as ever. "Yes, Chad. Are they hurting you? Are they forcing you do this?" He squeezed shut his eyes for a second, and I thought for a minute he'd lie, throwing me and Rudy under the Ugandan bus, but then he reopened them and pushed the truth through his lips. "Nuh, nuh, no Dad, they're not hurting me or forcing me. Not really." "So you want them to do this stuff? Truth, now, honey, don't be afraid or ashamed." Chad swallowed, his new shade of red intensifying into a bigger, brighter hue. "Yeah, I mean, yes sir, I want it too." Peter positively dripping with excitement and shame. Mr Q reached over and patted Chad's downy belly, almost dipping his fingers in the puddle of precum. "Okay, just making sure." He withdrew his hand and stood up. "Look, boys, I just came up to tell you that your mother had a, um, slight disagreement with a police officer at the bar, and, um, and --" "And you'll bail her out Monday morning, bright and early," Rudy finished for him, a modicum of self-assurance returned to him now that he knew he wasn't in trouble for fucking his little brother. Mr Q had the grace to blush. "Yeah, something like that." His eyes landed on something lying innocently on the bed next to Chad. The pipe. My heart stopped again as he reached over to pick it up. Sex was one thing, I supposed. Drugs was another. He examined the pipe's bowl, then fished in his pocket and brought out a lighter. My heart resumed beating as he tried to hit it. When he got nothing for his trouble, he tossed it back on the bed. "That's cashed," he said to me. "Uh, yeah," I answered. He sighed. "Look, um, son, go ahead and sleep over. It's too late and too cold out to send you home now." "Thanks, Mr Q." He waved away my words. "I'm going to bed." He yawned, then scowled again at the stink. "For Christ's sake, boys, wash those sheets and air out this pigsty before we go get your mother. It smells like Boy George's tour bus in here." He staggered from the room and down the hall. "Boy George's tour bus?" I asked Rudy. He shook his head. "You don't wanna know. Some stories are better left untold." Suddenly Mr Q was back in the doorway. "You, son," he said, pointing at me. "Me?" I asked, startled. "Me what? Um, sir?" "You were right," he said to me. "Roll Chad over on his belly, face down, ass up. Much smoother ride for the both of you, the way you're formed." "Um, okay, Mr Q, um, thanks," I called out as he disappeared back towards his own room. The three of us waited there on the bed for a few seconds, half expecting him to reappear in the doorway, but he didn't. Apparently he'd gone to bed for the night. "So what do we do now?" Chad asked, his voice trembling. Rudy smiled. "We roll your ass over, cracker," he said, grabbing hold of his dick and working it back up. It responded splendidly, achieving critical mass in only a few strokes. "But Rudy, Dad--" "Dad's gone to bed, and he knows what we're doing, and he don't care," Rudy pointed out. "Now, cracker, you going to roll over on your own or you want me to hogtie you with those Sponge Bob abominations?" "I'm sorry, Rudy, I'll roll over, please don't hogtie me," and he suited action to word and twisted over on his belly, carefully rearranging the pillows so his ass realized maximum altitude. ". . . but I don't think we should do this, I wish Daddy hadn't caught us, now I'm all ashamed . . ." Face down on the bed, legs spread and hips twitching. I squeezed another drop of gel on my boner and rubbed it in, then shuffled between his thighs, nudging them further apart. He continued to vent his misgivings even as I pressed my re-slicked cockhead at his hole, only to exhale whatever else he had to say in one fell swoosh, a rush of air propelled by my shaft sinking into him, hot knife and butter, baby, I sank down into him as easily as I'd slid into his throat earlier, and yeah, Rudy, yeah, Chad, that tunnel felt like pudding pie. No other words described it just right. Pudding pie, say amen. "Amen." Rudy smiling as he said it. I blushed, unaware that I'd spoken aloud. "Fuck that pudding pie, dude." He feasted his eyes on my crotch and Chad's ass, watching me fuck pie. I stretched out full length inside the kid, enjoying the way he gripped up and slipped down my turgid flesh. Chad ground his hips against my pelvis, moaning, muttering. ". . . that's the way, feels better now, not poking me wrong hurting me still hurts but hurts better now . . ." Kid was right. No longer did my pipe and his tunnel struggle to interlock. Now they fit comfortably together, my shaft curving just right along the path. My orgasm danced in my balls, deep and painful, but it stayed there for the present and let me groove on the clutching muscles. I breathed in and shifted my hips, pulling my cock almost all the way out; only the head remained inside, the ridge of its cap teasing the kid's hole. Then I pushed back in, smooth and sweet and true. Chad writhed under me, bucked his own hips up to grind into my pubes, clutched at my cock as I slid it back out. ". . . ooh ooh ooh that's right that's right that's how you do it . . ." Rudy shook his head, as if leaving a trance, and shuffled on his knees around the prone kid to settle at his head. He twisted his fingers again in Chad's red shanks and yanked his head up; Chad gasped, broke his monotonous whine, and accepted it when Rudy's cock, only recently crammed up his ass, slid into his mewling mouth. ATM, baby, ass-to-mouth. Hot damn! He struggled up onto his elbows and sucked greedily at Rudy and rocked his ass back against the steadily graduating thrusts of my cock into his hole. Rudy and I watched each other fuck, the same way we watch each other wank, drinking in the sight and smell of each other, lusting with but not for each other, at least not in any conventional sense. We matched beats in our rhythmic plundering of the kid's orifices, pacing each other, letting ourselves build, allowing Chad to wallow in the eddy of our bruddah-ly love. But, as wonderful as all this felt, as skin-meltingly hot as we burned right then, something just didn't feel right. And I knew what it was. "Rudy." Pause. "Rudy!" "Yeah dude?" I ground one final time into Chad's bowels, then pulled all the way out, exiting the hole with a quiet plop! "Tag, buddy. You ride this here train to the station." "Dude, it's cool, you can . . ." Chad's ass wriggling and humping frantically in the air, searching for something to fill it. Rudy's fist in his hair and cock in his mouth, fucking that face up and down his cock. "No, no, he's your brother, Rudy, your cracker, you should be the one to give him his first load up the ass." He didn't answer, just kept sliding his brother's lips up and down his pole. "I'm serious. Because it's getting to be time, isn't it? Time to blow?" I only barely kept a pleading note of my voice. Rudy sighed, and I saw that I'd read him right. "Yeah, it's time. But you can cream his ass if --" "No, Rudy," I said, moved by his offer but adamantly opposed to it. "If this was Sam, yeah, I'd cream him, but this is Chad, he's your brother, it's your place." At last he nodded, accepting my logic, and pulled Chad up off his knob, looked down into the kids face with that brotherly tenderness and keen love I'd observed earlier. "Okay, cracker, it's time. You ready for some cum in your throat and up your butt?" And the kid answered, his lips all puffy, his breath ragged with need, ". . . yeah Rudy ready for some cum, you gonna cum in my ass Rudy? Please Rudy . . ." Rudy smiled at him and nodded, bent down and kissed his brother on the fiery crown of his head, then he and I swapped positions, Chad miraculously silent during the exchange. Perhaps because he'd run out of things to say. Perhaps because he sensed the end looming, and knew no words that sufficed. I don't know. Before he entered the kid, Rudy bent over his supine form and said into his ear, "Now you're still forbidden from touching yourself --" ". . . nooooo oh Ru-deee . . ." "--but I want you to cum if you can. While I fuck your sweet pudding pie and my bruddah here slides in and outta your hot mouth, I want you concentrate on how it feels, I want you to push it higher, and hotter, and when I tell you to, I want you cum for me. Hands free. Can you do that?" Chad's warm breath breezed across my dick. "I . . . I . . .I'll try, Rudy." Rudy rubbed the kid's neck and said, "That's my cracker," and straightened up, poised himself to plunge head first into his brother's upturned ass. We commenced our final fuck in tandem. I tilted Chad's chin up and rubbed my blunt, drizzly, just-out-of-his-ass cockhead over his lips and on into his mouth and throat, and I felt the kid groan and choke around me as Rudy sank inside. We didn't bother to stop and savor the moment; the time for savoring and teasing had already blown on by; now we pushed the horses to reach the stable before morning. Rudy set up that steady pounding canter, began to almost imperceptibly kick it up to a gallop. I matched his pace in fucking Chad's throat, the kid accepting both of us with no difficulty but a cumload of writhing and moaning. I put my hand on the kid's neck, guiding his head up and down my shaft, and leaned forward, over his back. Reaching, I think, reaching for Rudy, blindly, unknowingly. All I knew was that I needed support. Rudy met me halfway; our foreheads kissed in greeting. We leaned heavily together for balance as we rocket thrust our dicks into Chad's hot holes. Rudy and I locked our gazes, melted together, became one again, but instead of two parts to the formula there were three. Chad rocked the base of our impromptu isosceles triangle, giving me and Rudy the foundation necessary to soar our diagonal sides up to meet at the apex. Sparks flew between our eyes, and our skulls fused with sweat and electricity. Point of no return, as defined above. Chad already between us, aware of our actions. Rudy's mom safe in jail and secure in ignorance. His Dad bedded down for the night, uncaring. If Justin Bieber (ptui!) strolls in, he can watch, we don't care. "Not . . . not gonna be long now, dude," Rudy growled at me, his breath rank and gamy and intoxicating on my cheek. "Yeah, Rudy, yeah, me too," I growled right back. "Let's do this, man, let's do this shit." "Yeah, gonna blow," Rudy agreed. "Hey cracker, ya hear that? Gonna blow soon, gonna fill you up with spooge til it runs out your ears. Hear me?" ". . . mmmm mmmmmm mm mm . . ." "He, he hears you," I translated, gasping. "So you know what I want you . . . what I want you to do, cracker," Rudy grunted. "I want you to cum, cum now!" And with a groan and an eye-shattering grimace, Rudy began spilling into the kid, groaning and moaning and thrashing, pounding into Chad's ass wildly, pummeling his already bruised asscheeks. The sound of ecstasy in my best friends throat sent me over the edge too, and my orgasm, no more to be denied, kicked down the door and rampaged up and through me. I grunted and huffed like a pig as I shot my load into the kid's hot mouth, the first stream directly down his gullet, the rest pumping out to paint his tonsils and tongue as I pulled out some so as not to drown the kid. Chad himself lost it at the the feeling of all that jizz spurting into him, and he managed to fulfill Rudy's command, his body contorting and twisting and wriggling between us, and he even began to yelp, deep in his throat, as the spasms of orgasm shook through him. "Shit, dude, shit fuck shit, I can feel him cumming," Rudy gasped to me. "He's gripping my dick, milking it with every shot!" "Yeah, yeah," I gasped back. "He's trying to yelp around my cock, squeezing it with his throat." "Feels . . . feels amazing, don't it?" "Yuh, yeah." "Told ya." We emptied ourselves into Chad, pouring everything we had into him, spurting our loads so deeply into him they'd never drip out, trying to pump our entire being into him so as to meet up somewhere in the kid's belly, and he writhed and hunched below us, sucking Rudy with his ass as surely as he sucked me with his mouth, feasting on all we had to give. Our single-minded ecstasy lasted an eternity, but at last even eternity crumbled, and us with it. Unable to stand on my knees a moment longer I fell straight down onto my side on the bed, panting heavily and shaking in every limb. Chad let go my softening cock with nary a complaint, just dropped from his elbows to lay face down on the mattress. And Rudy gave out, too, fell forward, still sheathed inside his brother, to drape across Chad's supine form. We lay there for awhile, twice as a long as the euphoria had lasted, trying to catch our breath, floating in that bubble of well-being that envelops one after either a good fight or a good fuck. "I gotta take a leak," Rudy said to no one in particular. He pressed his forehead against his brother's skull, breathed across the back of Chad's sweaty neck, curling locks of Chad's hair in his fingers. He tilted his head and kissed the kid's neck. "Well done, cracker." "Rudy, Rudy, I . . ." Chad's voice had lost that whiny edge he'd affected during the scene, but it continued to sound wary and uncertain. "Yeah, cracker?" Chad spilled more words in a mad rush. "Rudy I love you and I wanna do that again but but but . . ." "But?" Only gentle mockery in the tone. ". . . but please get off me, I really gotta go to the john, I mean I REALLY got to go!" That provoked a lazy, indulgent chuckle from both Rudy and me, but he obligingly rose up off his brother and pulled out of that well-used hole. Rudy and Chad winced in stereo as he slid free, accompanied by drops and driblets of lube and semen. Before he rolled completely away, Rudy kissed Chad on the back of his neck again. "I love you too, Chad." Then he smacked Chad on the ass one last time and fell onto his side on the mattress. Chad didn't bother to reply, just wriggled off the bed, stood there woozily for a couple seconds as if trying to get his legs under him, then bolted for the door, his asscheeks visibly clenched shut, his gait graceless and unbalanced. We shared a chuckle at that too, not maliciously, but sympathetically. "I bet it feels like his insides are about to fall out," I said to Rudy. He lay there on his side, facing me across the cum-soaked sweaty pillows recently occupied by Chad belly and peter. Rudy's face and body and especially his dick glimmered red and shiny in the light from the overhead bulb. "I imagine so." Gazing at me dead on, looking below my surface and letting me know it. "How do you feel?" "Like I gotta pee." "You too huh." "And like I could drink cafeteria kool-aid." "That is thirsty." Still peering at me, smiling, waiting patiently for me to decide how to answer him. "I have to piss like a racehorse, maybe we can figure out how to take care of both needs at once?" I wasn't sure he was kidding. "Um, no, thanks, I'm trying to quit." I spotted, on the night-stand, the half-full bottle of Mountain Dew I'd brought in with me hours and years ago and promptly forgotten about. I snagged it and sucked down a few good mouthfuls, even though it had gone tepid and flat. It was moisture, anyhow. "I think your piss might be tastier," I told Rudy, passing him the bottle for a swig or two of his own. He winked at me, presumably agreeing. When he finished he returned the bottle to me and started patting the mattress around us. I spotted the object of his search and pointed a toe at it. He grinned his thanks and sat up, grabbed the pipe and lighter off the mattress, and, as an afterthought, dropped Chad's support pillows onto the floor, out of the way; neither of us wanted to to chance falling into that lake of spunk. He scooched himself up and reached across me for the baggie of weed, brushing against my chest and making my skin tingle. He'd performed similar maneuvers around and across me many times, but never before had it seemed so intimate, so personal, as he passed through my immediate space. "How do I feel?" I asked, returning to the subject he'd broached while I watched him load the bowl and hit it. "I don't know. I feel good, yeah, I feel all relaxed and spent, like I just survived the most amazing sex, the kind that scares porn stars. And I feel all mixed up and . . . and . . . yeah, I feel a little bit queer, dude. And guilty. Chad is your brother, dude!" "I feel good too," Rudy confessed, passing the pipe to me. "Neither Inbred Wanda nor any other chick ever wore my ass out like that fucking cracker just did. And queer? Yeah, I feel ya there, I feel about fifty shades of gay myself. But guilty?" He took the pipe back, hit it. "No, I don't feel guilty. He's my brother, you're right. And we pushed him into this, or at least I did. Here." "Thanks. I'm in this thing up my neck, Rudy, in just as deep as you." "But what you have to remember is we didn't do nothing he didn't want us to do. If he'd really wanted us to stop, he would've made that clear. Hell, he wouldn't have come on into the room so quick and ready if he didn't want it." "I suppose." Pass. "No supposing about it. He asked for it, just as loud as if he wrote it on Facebook." "It's complicated," I said, chuckling. "Right on." "I thought we were just going for some head." He laughed. "That's what I thought too, going in, but I admit I had a sneaking hope he'd let us into his ass. And I was right. As soon as he started going on about how badly he didn't want to be fucked I knew he'd spread 'em." Pass. "Does this make us, you know, queer?" He looked at me, one of the few truly surprised looks he'd ever given me. "Fuck no." He reached out and flicked my flaccid cock, lightly; it still stung, and I flinched. "This was just fun. This was just fucking. Now, if, say, Selena Gomez walked through that door, you'd find some gas in you somewhere to plug that stuff, wouldn't you?" "Justin Beiber" – we both ptui'd – "would despise my ass." "What about if, say, I don't know, Ryan Reynolds walked in?" Pass. "Ugh." "Or even what if the cracker came back in and begged us to stuff him again?" "Maybe later. Not now." Pass. "See, there ya go." All triumphant, managing to keep a smug face even while coughing up a misfired hit. When he could breathe again, "It would take Selena Gomez or some gash just as hot to get you revved and ready to go round again tonight. Ergo, you're straight." Pass. I thought the food coloring analogy stronger, but I let it pass. Let him think he convinced me. And maybe, in a way, he did. "So what about tonight? I think I can safely claim we lost a little hetero street cred just now." Grin. "Experimentation. We're teenagers, we're supposed to do that stuff, aren't we?" Pass. "Okay, okay, you've run rings around me logically. But would you do it again?" "Dude, I plan to shoot so many loads in that cracker he'll sweat semen." "That's a pretty image." Pass. "But the way it was tonight? That trip over into whatever head space Chad led us in to, all that passion and, and, and, shit, all that stuff? No, don't think so. Not that I didn't enjoy it, but, you know, he ain't no female." We knuckled our fists on that one. Oh, to hear those words now, and weep. Because more passion and and and shit in yet another strange head space awaited us on the other side of sunrise. "And what about your dad?" Rudy sighed, exasperated. "Well, aren't you Fretful Frieda tonight." "Rudy." "Don't worry about my dad. If he even remembers what he caught us doing he'll think it was only a drunk dream." "Maybe he'll forget your house arrest too." "No," Rudy said. "He'll remember that." "He just worries me. What if he tells my mother?" "He won't. He's not like that." "If you say so." "Look, the main thing he was concerned about was making sure we weren't raping Chad." "Weren't we?" By now, I admit, I was shining him on a little. I think he knew it, too, but he answered me seriously, using the last of his patience with the subject. "We've been through that. They don't come any more willing than that cracker was tonight. And speaking of the cracker, where is he? How long it take to shit out a few gallons of jizz?" He tossed the pipe to the bed and swung his legs to the floor. "You have such a lovely way with words." Rudy waved his junk at me. "Have your lovely way with this." He stood up, as wobbly on his feet as Chad had been earlier. "Jesus H Christ in a port-a-potty, I gotta piss! If cracker ain't done on the throne he'll just have to spread his legs and hope his nutsack don't get splashed." This last with fading volume as he strode down the hall towards the bathroom. I just giggled and shook my head and tipped the last of the soda into my still-parched throat. We'd sweated so much tonight I'm sure we all verged on dehydration. I wasn't even particularly stoned anymore. I think I'd (pardon the expression) smoked myself straight. Down the hall, Rusty tapped on the bathroom door. "Cracker, you okay? I'm coming in, I gotta drain, bro." I heard the door open, then Rusty's gasp of horror. "Chad? Omigod! CHAD!" * * * * * Thanks for reading the second part of my story. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. These fellas keep me hard and dripping the entire time I'm chronicling their misadventures. Coming up in "Because—the third orgasm—A Box Of Chocolates": Rudy a bottom? And our intrepid hero gets some more head and attempts to forge a deal with his own kid brother. If you like this serial please shoot an email to rustyslocumerotica@gmail.com and tell me. If you didn't like it, you can let me know that too, but I won't be as interested.