Date: Wed, 30 Mar 2016 21:52:01 +0000 (UTC) From: a4f101@yahoo.com Subject: Brandon Mellows Out Here's a story taken from my Tumblr, at a4f101.tumblr.com/storytime. You can find this one, and the pic that inspired it, here: http://a4f101.tumblr.com/post/114432186994/ This story is purely a work of adult erotic fantasy, copyright me 2016. I own it and all legal rights to it. If you're under the age of majority in your jursdiction, please come back when you're of legal age. Nifty is an incredible free service that depends on your donations to survive. It changed my life, and maybe it's changed yours too. Please help them to keep providing all the awesome porn they do: http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html I love hearing from you guys. a4f101@yahoo.com. Enjoy... ***** Brandon always slept like the dead, always had. Could snore like a freight train too, but otherwise he was the perfect roommate down here at the beach, since as soon as his head hit the pillow, it was lights out for a solid eight or more hours for him. Which meant I could rub a load out and not worry about him waking up and busting me for it. I was 16, horny all the time, I mean all the time. And yeah, while it was great to have the privacy of my own room back home to stroke out multiple loads a day, the fact that Brandon was basically in a coma every night at least meant I could get one out before I slept, and even one when I woke up, if I got to it early enough. The problem about sharing a room with him, though, was sights like this. Him, all big and beefed up, thick with fleshy, padded muscle, coming off his junior year playing outside linebacker up at Tech. He'd been an awkward-looking dude as a teenager, not ugly exactly, just not quite put together right, somehow. Kind of a fatass too, and a bit of an asshole. Loud, obnoxious, the kind of big brother who made it his mission in life to pick on his kid bro, using his size and attitude to bully me, when he wasn't ignoring me. But now he was 20, and since he'd been in college, he'd mellowed out, his body had firmed up even as he bulked up, and he was actually a pretty handsome dude. Like his features had finally resolved as he'd grown into manhood. He didn't call me Pretty Boy anymore, and since I was playing football myself now, even though I was smaller and leaner and built like the tight end I was, we had something to bond over, and he was treating me like the good kind of big brother. Last night, he'd even let me have a beer or two from the stash he kept in the back of his Cherokee, and we'd chilled on the dock out behind the house, looking over the Intracoastal Waterway, talked about guy stuff, brother stuff, for the first time in probably ever. It was nice. Made me feel good inside. I didn't feel so good about the fact that after he fell asleep last night, I'd rubbed out a long, slow, thick teen load, remembering the flex of the big muscles on his tanned calf, the bulge of his quads, the way his face looked now that he'd grown into it. The deep rumble of his voice, the thick hair on his forearms. The proud mound of his cock in his board shorts. The big, round muscles of his ass, and the way it jiggled ever so slightly when he walked in that slow, easy way of his. And now, as I stood in the doorway of our bedroom, barely 7am, back from a run through the streets down to the beach and back, I really didn't feel good about how I felt. How my cock tingled warningly inside my underwear, as I surveyed the big, smooth, powerful beef of his bare chest, the fur in his pits, the chunky muscles of his arms, and ah, fuck - the morning wood tenting his boxer briefs. Jesus. He'd shuffled the covers down in his sleep, and that big fucking cock of his was standing proud, straining his gray FTLs, and now my own cock was starting to strain my underwear too. Just as I went to slip back out of the room, into the shower, so I could furiously, shame-facedly stroke another load out, he shifted, grunted, wriggled around a little, and then opened his eyes. Looked at me blankly for a minute as his brain slowly re-engaged, then gave me a slow smile as he yawned and stretched. "Hey, Coop," he muttered groggily, rubbing his eyes. Then he looked down, saw how exposed he was, how proudly he was standing and chuckled. Not the least bit ashamed. "Oops. Sorry little bro, didn't mean to give you a show there." He made to pull the covers up, but I guess my face, my eyes, the prominent bulge in my mesh shorts must have given me away. His hand froze, and he looked me up and down. A slight frown creased his forehead, and I felt my guts flip over. Fuck, all the progress we'd made towards being good brothers lately, and my stupid lust-fogged dick was gonna screw it all up. I blushed, hard, and made to leave, to avoid the anger I knew I was about to face. The shame. "Yo, Coop, come back here," he said, voice clearer now. He was up on one elbow, not frowning, not hard-faced, and not covering himself up. Reluctantly, I came back in. Couldn't look him in the eye, or anywhere but my feet as he shuffled his big ass up and sat against the headboard of the twin bed. Rested one meaty forearm on his knee, as his big cock continued to point proudly up and out. He gave it a lazy scratch that looked more like a grope. Then smiled. "Dude, chill, buddy," he said, all low and husky, and I felt my guts untwist a little. Either he was pulling one of his old big-bro bait and switches, and was about to pound my ass through the wall... or shit, maybe he was genuine. "Hey, we've all been there, man," he said again, and his hand stayed on his bulge. "Waking up on the rail, y'know. Seeing your buds the same way. It's part of being a dude, bro, nothing to freak about." He gave himself a clear, slow squeeze, and I nearly gasped. God, I wished I could do the same on mine, but I was still scared he was gonna fuck me up... "Can be kind of fun, in fact," he said, with a wink, and then reached inside his boxer briefs to feel on himself. "You ever, y'know, jack with your buds, bro?" I shook my head slowly. I'd dreamed of that, and one or two of my good buds, my teammates had kinda hinted at the possibility, but I didn't trust myself. My emerging gay dude brain. Didn't want to fuck it all up by showing too much of who I really was. What a perv everyone would probably think I was. "Shit, for real?" he said with a slow smile. "Well fuck... close that door, bro. I'm not fucking with ya, I swear. Come chill, little dude. It's cool, I promise." So against years of little brother instincts, trusting he was more like the guy I'd hung with yesterday, the big brother I`d really always wanted, I closed the door. Stepped in. Saw his grin widen, as he kicked down the covers, laying there in all his beefy, muscled, hand-in-his-undies glory. "Fuck yeah," he murmured, then hefted his big muscled ass up and skinned those undies down. His cock was big, real big, proportionate to the rest of his big, beefy, thick body, which meant it'd look huge on a dude built like me. Big, cut, thick, proud, shiny in the morning light. "C'mon, get naked, Coop. Let's play, bro." I found myself pulling my sweaty tank top off, slipping my shorts down my thighs, letting him see the very respectable teen jock cock bulging up my own boxer briefs, Stepped awkwardly over to the other twin bed, opposite him. Blushed as I felt his eyes crawling over my smooth, tight young muscles. Nodding slightly, approvingly. I hesitated, then decided fuck it, it's now or never, shucked my undies, and sat on my bed facing him. Started to handle myself like he was, slow and easy. Feeling the delicious hot throb of my meat in my hand. One of my favorite things in the whole world, since I was 11 or so. Getting into it, with my big brother doing just the same. It was weird, but it was kinda nice, and above all, it was fucking hot, as we got deeper. "Looking good, kiddo," he said all huskily, his eyes roving over my body openly. I found myself opening my body up, letting him see the flex of my bicep, the crunch of my abs, the bulge of my hard, prominent quads. "Coach T's got you hitting the weights hard, huh buddy?" I smiled, nodded, found myself pulling my muscled legs up and splaying them, as I began to jack a little quicker. Watched him hock a wad of his spit into his palm, slap it on his big hard shaft, and wink at me as I let out a lusty, hungry little grunt at the sight. Found myself doing the same as he nodded approvingly. "Fuck yeah, bro," he panted. "Get into it, Coop." I did, and we grinned and stroked and admired each other for a few more minutes, before he got this look on his face, all speculative, like he was deciding on something. Then he scooted that powerful ass to the side of his bed, thick thighs spread wide, and motioned at me with his head. "Dude, come over here, let me see you, big guy," he said with that conspiratorial grin he'd shot me when he gave me that first beer on the dock last night. I was surprised to find myself doing just that, standing up, still stroking, stepping over in front of him. And even more surprised when he ran one big, sweaty palm up the hard flex of my thigh, nodding approvingly, a quiet, appreciative grunt as he felt it up. Then up over my hip, over the cuts of my abs, all the way up to my hard young pec. It was so insane to have him do that, so intense and hot, I didn't know what to do, but keep on jacking. "Damn, baby bro," he murmured as he rubbed on me and his cock at the same time. "You look fuckin' good, kid. All grown up, ya little stud." I grinned with surprised pride at him, with pleasure at his compliment, felt my chest puff up proudly as he rubbed over both of my pecs. They were bigger lately, and I was kinda proud of them. of my whole body, now that I was muscling up so fast. Seeing, hearing, feeling him appreciate all that, appreciate me, made me feel all funny inside about him. About us. And I just stroked harder and faster as he grinned, stroked himself. Then his big paw slipped down my flank, around my hip, and lightly squeezed the hard curve of my ass, and I moaned out loud for the first time. He grinned wider, chuckled softly, looked over at the door, then back at me. As I stared at him with lust and surprise, he scooted back on the bed again, over by the wall. Never missed a stroke on his fat linebacker cock, nor broke contact with my eyes. Then he patted the empty mattress beside him. Smiled invitingly, which I don't ever remember him doing before. Motioned with his head again. "Hey, come closer, Coop," he said again. "Come chill with me, little bro. This is fun. Let's have some more fun, yeah?" My body was moving before my mind even agreed to do it, and his grin widened invitingly as I stretched out alongside him. Felt the heat of his big, muscled, beefy body. Smelled his musk, his sweat. The press of his big, powerful thigh against mine, slipping over it so our legs entwined. I grunted with surprise again when his big paw knocked my hand off my cock, and when he spat into it and wrapped it around my shaft, my toes curled and my legs flexed hard as I fought the urge to come. "Yeah, good, little bro," he grinned, seeing my struggle, my temporary victory. "Stick with it, buddy. Let's play, Coop." He slipped one thick arm under my neck, pulled me in close, and before I knew what was happening, his big, pink, warm tongue was slipping inside my mouth, my big brother kissing me like a fucking champ. Growling into my mouth as I kissed him back, my first real true serious kiss with another dude. The slick slide of his hand on my cock, the even slicker dance of his big tongue in my mouth, had me moaning, writhing, ready to come all over again. And this time, he let me, helped me, made me shoot probably the biggest load I'd ever shot, all over my sweaty young muscles and his, kissing me all the while. "That's it, Pretty Boy," he moaned in my ear, and then began to pump his own thick, hot ballplayer brother load out all over us as I sucked on his fat wet tongue and writhed against him, through the end stages of my orgasm, as he added his to the sticky, slick, hot mess all over us. I found myself liking being called Pretty Boy by him, for the first time ever, now that things were different. I hoped they'd stay different, stay like this, and I guess we had the rest of the summer to find out if they would. The happy, satisfied grunt he gave me, the way he kissed me again as he spurted out the last dribbles of his thick cum, the playful tweak he gave my cum-painted nipple, told me he was thinking the same thing. Rooming together down here this summer might turn out to be the best thing ever.