Date: Mon, 30 Dec 2013 12:11:04 -0800 (PST)
From: Seth Kirkcauldy <seth-kirkcauldy@sbcglobal.net>
Subject: Brother Mine 1

Brother Mine Chapter 1
copyright 2013 Seth Kirkcauldy
seth-kirkcauldy@sbcglobal.net

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dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. They are a
product of the author's imagination, or used fictitiously.  This story
contains erotic situations between brothers not yet of a legal age.  If it
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Part 1: Aiden


Aiden ran for the trees, his worn shoes slipping in the mud and his arms
windmilling.  The awkward movements made his backpack tumble into the muck
and he paused briefly to snatch it up before continuing.  The sounds of the
boys in pursuit rang in his ears; they were close.  Tears blurred his
vision and the phlegm in his throat made it hard for him to catch his
breath; each shuddered through him like a sob.  But he kept running on the
slick, muddy carpet of leaves while his feet - like everything else in his
life - threatened to betray him with each clumsy step.  If he fell, it'd be
over; the boys would catch him and he'd be pummeled again.

He'd committed the ultimate sin by ignoring their bullying all day.  It
wasn't that hard for him to do; he merely didn't pay any attention to them.
But when they failed to get a rise with their taunts, they turned physical,
flicking his ears and rapping their knuckles sharply on his head.  That was
harder to ignore, but still, he had.  Although his face reddened with
humiliation, he simply read his book and ignored them all.

Because they had failed to get the reaction they wanted earlier, he hadn't
been too surprised to see them waiting for him, gathered like a tight knot
of hatred in the parking lot outside the school.  Trevor led them, of
course, but the others were there as well.  All told, there were four of
them; certainly not the most who'd ever held him down and beat him, but
plenty to do a spectacular job.  So he ran, hoping they wouldn't see him.
Like most predators, however, a sixth sense alerted them to their prey and
they were immediately after him, even as he darted into the muddy forest.

A branch whipped a line across his cheek and caused him to stumble, and
that was the error that ended his flight.  The boys were better on the
slick ground than Aiden was, their natural athletic ability providing them
a speed and balance that he would never have.  His brief stumble resulted
in a full sprawl in the mud with one of them tackling him from behind.
Aiden never really had a chance.

"Fucking faggot," the assailant hissed, pressing the back of Aiden's head
so that it squished deep into the mud, plugging his nostrils and making him
heave and cough.

"This is for making us catch you," Trevor said coldly, sending a brutal
kick to Aiden's ribs.  Agony stabbed through his body.  He tried to curl
tightly to protect himself, but the boy on his back prevented too much
movement; and his tormentor's hand pressed Aiden's face deeper into the
muck so that he choked and gagged whenever he tried to gasp for breath.

The beating was long and thorough, but not the worst he'd ever had.  At
some point Aiden eventually fled to the quiet darkness inside his head,
rocking to the rhythm of their fists upon his prone body.  He knew the
dark, percussive music of hate like it was his own heartbeat.

Later, when he opened his swollen eyes, he found himself alone with
daylight starting to fade.  As he stumbled toward home, he was pretty sure
that while he might have a few fractures, no bones were broken to the point
they'd need to be set.  Still, although all the mud would wash off, there
was no way he'd be able to hide the bruises and swelling from his mom.  Or
Connor.

He paused from shambling toward his house and considered that thought for a
moment.  He'd somehow forgotten about Connor; his brother was back home
now.

Aiden didn't spend as much time with his brother as he'd like.  Connor had
been living with their dad in Cleveland for the past four years, but he'd
just finished all his requirements for graduation, and now he was back
living with Aiden and their mother until college started in the fall.
Although Aiden had seen his brother every summer, it still felt like they'd
grown up in different worlds.

Aiden had hoped that he'd also be shipped off to Cleveland when he started
high school; but he was already a sophomore and no invitation from his dad
had ever come.

As he shuffled out of the woods and onto his street, he saw his brother's
car parked in the driveway and it strangely filled him with dread.  While
he normally liked any attention at all from Connor, he didn't think he
could deal with the shame of his brother seeing him this way on top of the
physical beating he'd already taken.  Just the thought had tears welling in
his eyes.

"Spaz?"

Connor already stood in the doorway, holding it open with his lean hip
while he peered out at Aiden.  His brownish-red hair was much darker than
Aiden's orangey-red; it was a burnt roan color that was currently spiked
with bed head.  He must have been crashing on the sofa and somehow caught a
glimpse of Aiden through the door.  His handsome, young face was covered in
a reddish-gold scruff and the tight look around his mouth had Aiden's heart
skipping shamefully.


His brother always called him a spaz since Aiden had been physically clumsy
and socially inept since he was a small kid.  Now at fifteen he still had
no friends and pretty much broke most things he touched.  Aiden hated to be
called a spaz by most people simply because it fit him perfectly; but he
loved when Connor said anything at all to him.  They didn't really have
much but parents in common; but then, Aiden didn't usually feel he had
anything in common with anyone.

He tried to continue walking up the driveway in a normal way, but the scowl
on his brother's face made the tears finally spill over.

"What the fuck happened to you?"

But Aiden didn't answer him.  He tried never to talk to Connor; he was
terrified about what might spring free from his lips.  So he gritted his
teeth and clamped down on any response while he kept walking, not meeting
Connor's eyes.

"Aiden!  What the FUCK happened to you?"  Connor's gruff voice was almost
hoarse with some emotion that Aiden couldn't identify, and his bright eyes
were wide.  "Jesus Fucking Christ.  Just strip off your clothes here at the
door, Spaz.  I'll run you a bath upstairs, yeah?  What the FUCK happened to
you?"

Connor was already moving through the house to go upstairs, obviously
accustomed to the fact that his brother never answered.  Aiden shucked off
his muddy clothes and shoes at the doorway and climbed the stairs slowly to
the bathroom, clad only in his underwear.  He found Connor leaning over the
tub adjusting the water, the position making his cargo shorts pull tight
across his ass and muscular thighs.  The curve of his ass was clearly
defined by the light fabric, with a shadowy suggestion of the cleft
beneath.

Aiden swallowed loudly and pulled his eyes away to look at himself in the
mirror.  He was nothing at all like his older brother.  Currently, his red
hair was caked in mud which coated his whole head except for the twin
tracks of tears that ran like white scars down his face.  His green eyes -
the only feature he shared with Connor - were currently bloodshot from his
pathetic sniveling; God, he hated himself sometimes.  He shivered slightly
and hugged his lanky arms around his scrawny chest, waiting for his brother
to notice he was there.

"Alright," Connor said, turning.  His eyes took in his brother's ruined
body and narrowed dangerously.  "Holy fuck."

He let out a slow hiss as he reached his hand and gently touched Aiden's
ribs where yellow and brown were blossoming on his fair skin like a
venomous flower.  His fingertips brushed very lightly over the flesh,
leaving a trail of goose bumps as he examined it.  Aiden shuddered at the
touch and gasped.

"That hurt?"

"Uhh-h, no," Aiden stammered.  Luckily Connor couldn't see his ears burning
beneath the mud, but there's no way he missed that Aiden's cock immediately
sprang to hardness in his boxers.  The tent of his underwear poked straight
out at his brother like a flagpole in the freak parade.  Aiden closed his
eyes tightly and wanted to die.

Connor's touch disappeared from his skin and there was an awkward silence
for a moment while Aiden clenched his eyes tighter.

"Uh, Spaz?  Why don't you and your hard-on get in the tub now and wash all
that mud off?  I'll leave the two of you alone, yeah?"  That might have
been amusement or disgust in his voice; Aiden couldn't really tell the
difference without seeing the expression on his face.  And there was no
fucking way he was opening his eyes until Connor was gone.

When the door closed, Aiden slipped off his boxers and sank down into the
warm water as if it was despair.  He methodically scrubbed the dried mud
and blood from his body while his traitorous cock continued to bob happily
above the waterline.  He drained the tub and refilled it so he didn't have
to sit in his own filth, laid his head back against the tub rim, and
stretched his legs to let his toes play with the faucet.

This should have been relaxing, but it wasn't.  He needed something to do,
something to concentrate on or the recriminating thoughts would rise in his
mind again.  There was always so much noise in his head, like a crowd of
voices clamoring for attention; not like multiple personalities - the
voices were all his own - but like his brain was splintered into hundreds
of shards all thinking different things simultaneously.  He had a hard time
being still; he was exhausted all the time because his mind would never be
silent.

If he were perfectly honest with himself about the events of the day, he
guiltily enjoyed one aspect of his beating: the slide into quiet darkness
where he couldn't hear any of the noise in his head.  He knew that was
completely messed up and wondered if he would actually try to get beaten
some more.

The door opened and Connor stepped in to grab the discarded underwear.  "I
had to throw your shirt away, Spaz.  It's toast.  But the rest of your
clothes are in the washer so Ma won't see 'em.  I even threw your shoes in.
Hopefully, it won't ruin them."

"I think you ruined them before I ever got them," Aiden replied dully, not
looking at his brother and definitely not looking at the head of his own
cock pretending it was a fishing bobber.

"What?"

"They were in pretty bad shape when I got them.  You're pretty rough on
your shoes... all your clothes, really."

"My - ?"

Aiden finally looked over at his older brother standing there with his
underwear in a fist.  "All my clothes are handed down from you, Connor."

"All of them?  That's not right.  You should have your own st..."

"No!" Aiden said, sitting abruptly up and sloshing the water in the tub
right up to the rim.  He flailed for a second for the words he wanted, his
hands moving spastically in frustrated movements.  "No!  I like it... I
want your stuff.  I like wearing...  just... never mind.  It's no big deal
that I have your old stuff.  I just meant that you're kind of rough on it."

"Well I didn't know it was going to you when I was done with it," Connor
snapped.  "Ma should be buying you your own stuff.  Dad gives her child
support."

"It's fine," Aiden groaned.

Connor's green eyes narrowed again while he considered his younger brother,
and Aiden watched him from the corner of his eye.  Connor was so handsome
it hurt something in Aiden's chest.

"I think this is the most you've ever talked to me," Connor finally said.

Aiden quickly looked away.  "I'm not good at talking."

"What are you good at?"

"Bein' a spaz," Aiden mumbled.  God, he hurt all over.

"You are really good at that," Connor grinned at him.  "You gonna tell me
what happened?"

"Tripped."

After several moments of silence, Connor opened his mouth, closed it, and
then opened it again.

"Tripped off the edge of a cliff?  Tripped into oncoming traffic?  Tripped
during the running of the bulls?"

"Uh, yeah.  Those."

"I want a name, Aiden."

"I love the name you have."  Yikes!  He said that out loud?  This is why he
didn't talk to his brother.

"God, you're weird."

"You have no idea," Aiden murmured, sinking so that the water covered his
head and he could escape his brother's scrutiny.

When he came up for air, he was alone in the bathroom; but he heard his
brother moving through the house, and then his murmuring baritone as he
spoke to someone on the phone.  He knew that Connor was calling his old
school friends who still lived in the area to see if any of them knew what
happened today.  Connor never let anything go once he set his mind to it.

Aiden's mother was home that night by seven and by then Aiden was as clean
and dried as his laundry.  All evidence of his beating had been hidden
except for the cuts and bruises on his face; and they were, as anticipated,
rather spectacular.

"Fell," he told her.

"TRIPPED and fell," Connor appended, his eyes wide with innocence.

"Bullshit," their mother said, turning from them and dropping the bag of
fast food onto the dining table.  Aiden's stomach growled at the smell of
hot grease.  He tried to drop himself into a chair to eat, but misjudged
the move and cracked his hip on the seat's edge, ending up sprawled in the
floor.  A lance of pain pierced through his damaged ribcage.

"Of course it's bullshit," Connor said, shrugging.  He frowned in
puzzlement down at Aiden's prone form, and reached to give him a hand.
"I'm taking care of it.  It's not going to happen again."

His mother snorted while she watched Aiden gingerly get to his feet and
seat himself.  "You think kids aren't going to keep picking on him?  He's
weird, Con.  You can't change that."

"I can and will change the fact that other kids hurt him," Connor said
calmly, sitting at the table and eyeing the food with disdain.  "How often
do you have fast food?"

"Every once in a while," his mom answered at the same time that Aiden said:
"every night."

Connor pushed himself away from the table and then eyed his mother.  "I
need two hundred dollars to buy Aiden some new clothes."

She snorted again.  "I'd like two hundred dollars too, but that don't
mean..."

"He needs clothes, Ma!  You ever think he might not get picked on so much
if he wore clothes that fit him and didn't have holes in them?  Dad gives
you child support money and I want two hundred of it to buy Aiden some
clothes.  Tomorrow, Ma."

He stalked out of the room and his mother watched him with her mouth
hanging open, and Aiden quietly huffed and grunted and screwed his eyes
shut as he climaxed instantly inside his jeans.

"What's wrong with you?"  His mother asked, swinging back around to scowl
at him.

"Connor," he said dopily, shoving fries in his mouth and still gasping for
breath around them.  He was deeply flushed and his eyes remained closed.

His mom shook her head in exhausted bewilderment and left him to eat his
dinner.

At about two in the morning, their bedroom was quiet and dark.  There was a
slight scratching sound as a tree outside their window rubbed hopefully
against the house, but the house didn't respond to the come-on; it remained
stoic beneath the sliver of moon and played hard to get.

Aiden sympathized with the tree.  He folded his arms on the edge of his
brother's bed while he knelt quietly in the floor watching Connor breathe.
His brother's powerful chest rose and fell with the deep breaths of sleep,
the lightly-furred pectorals forming a broad, muscular plane, capped by the
coppery quarter-sized nipples.  Connor had always been an athlete and his
body showed it, from the thighs that were the size of Aiden's waist, to the
biceps that bulged like they had a baseball implanted beneath the skin.
The hair on his chest and legs was a golden-red color, lighter than the
hair on his head; but Aiden couldn't really tell that in the dark.  He
simply knew it from all the times he had studied his brother.

What he could see tonight which he didn't usually, was the uncut head of
Connor's cock where it had slipped out the leg of his boxers and touched
the sheet beneath.  Aiden leaned forward just slightly and breathed in the
sleepy smell of his brother's warm body and musky sweat.  Everything he
ever wanted from life was right there in front of him.  If he could, he'd
burrow into his brother's crotch and spend his whole life bringing Connor
pleasure.

He sat back and laid his head on his arms and let his eyes travel over the
beautiful body that lay out prone before him.  His breath hitched a bit in
his chest as he saw that beautiful cock jerk slightly and partially
stiffen.  He wondered what Connor dreamed about and if he'd get to see it
all the way hard; he never had before.

He held his breath and watched carefully, suddenly realizing how quiet it
was in the room.  Aiden took silent inventory: the branch outside the
window was no longer scratching the house; and Connor's chest was no longer
heaving with deep breaths.

Aiden's eyes flicked up to his brother's face where Connor lay awake,
watching him carefully with his serious, green gaze.



Part 2: Connor

The little fucker was watching me sleep.

His arms were folded on the edge of my mattress and his head lay on them
like they were a pillow, and the little fucker was just watching me sleep.
Well, when he wasn't sniffing my crotch; because I saw him do that, too.
He sat up at one point and leaned forward a few inches and smelled my cock
that was sneaking out the leg of my boxers.  I swear to God he is the
weirdest kid I've ever met.

Naturally, my cock started getting hard at this point.  It knew it was
being watched and it doesn't tolerate any shrinkage in front of an
audience.  Fuck it.

"What're you doin', Spaz?" I asked him; but it was more of a growl, really,
because my voice was hoarse from being asleep.

The little fucker just looked at me and didn't say anything.  He never says
anything.  I half believed he couldn't really talk at all until he
surprised the shit out of me that afternoon when we were in the bathroom.
That was when his little cock sprang straight up when I touched the skin
over his bruised ribs.  At the time, I figured he just didn't get touched
much by anybody and it didn't have much to do with me.  While I still
figure that's mostly true, it's hard to ignore the fact that he was now
kneeling in the floor beside my bed and sniffing my cock.  That might or
might not be a bit more specifically personal; but it was definitely a new
world's record in weirdness, and from the current record holder.

"You like the way I smell, Aiden?"  I asked him, trying to remove some of
the awkwardness.  God knows I was a bit afraid if I erased all his
awkwardness, he might just disappear.

He closed his eyes in humiliation and rubbed his face on the bed.  "Yeah,"
he muttered, all muffled by the sheets.  He was at least saying something,
so that had to be good, right?

"Yeah?"  I grinned at him.  "What do I smell like?"

"Leaves.  Warm horses.  And that cheese Aunt Lois use to like."

"That stinky kind?"  I was a bit offended.

"It tastes really good, though," he said quietly, his breath drifting
across my skin.

"Um, yeah, that smell probably comes from my uncut cock.  If I don't wash
the head real good sometimes it... uh, smells like that.  Ma got you
circumcised though, yeah?  You don't have to worry about that."

"Wish it was like yours," he said into the sheets.

"Yeah, well... there are lots of uncut guys that wish they were like you."

There was a long silence as Aiden raised his head and looked me right in
the eye.  "There is not a single person you know who wishes they were like
me."

I sputtered and choked, but he spoke the fucking truth, so what was I gonna
say to him?

I made one last ditch effort to have a normal conversation: "Can't you
sleep?  Why are you awake?"

"Waiting for the house to give in and rub the tree back," he said.  I swear
to God that is what he said.

I closed my eyes a minute and thought about the situation.  There were lots
of ways I could go, yeah?  But only one that really made sense to me.  See,
for Aiden's whole life we've been waiting for him to figure out how to act
like everyone else.  It was starting to become obvious that he was never
going to be like everyone else because he simply didn't know how.  He
didn't know what to say, so he stopped saying anything.  He didn't know
what to do, so he stopped doing anything.  He didn't know how to act around
friends, so he didn't have any.  He was fifteen years old and so lost
inside his own head I was afraid he might never get out.

I made up my mind about a few things right then: The little fucker was
weird as hell, but he was my brother, and that made him MY weird little
fucker.  He needed to be touched, because no one was touching this kid and
he was starving to death for human contact.  He was also obviously queer as
a three dollar bill and while I wasn't gay, I was almost eighteen, and I
knew exactly how to spend those kinds of bills.  Finally, he needed to be
told what to do because he had no fucking clue on his own.

I could see all the pieces right there in front of me and I knew exactly
how to put them all together.  I had very little doubt now about what I was
going to do, I just had to reach out and take what was mine.  Because there
was little doubt that he was mine.  God help me, this was either going to
give him what he needed or it was going to fuck him up beyond all
recognition.

"Okay," I said, letting out a deep breath.  "Okay."

Aiden squeezed his eyes shut, "I- I'm sorry, I know that sounded
w-weird..."

"No, Spaz.  I really mean it's truly okay, yeah?  Open your eyes and look
at me."

He did it immediately, and his obedience caused a flutter of excitement
deep in my stomach.  I cupped the back of his head with my palm and held
him still.

"It's going to be okay.  You are going to do exactly what I tell you to do.
You aren't going to ask any questions, you aren't going to hesitate.
You're not going to think about anything except doing what I tell you to
do, yeah?"

He nodded quickly, eyes open wide.  He could tell something had changed,
could feel it somehow in the air around him, but he couldn't tell exactly
what it was.  He didn't trust any of his senses because they always let him
down.

Well, he could learn to trust mine, then.  I tugged gently on the back of
his head and moved over a bit in my bed.

"C'mon up here on the bed and lay your head on my thigh.  No, lay across
the bed with your body under one of my legs and your head on the
other... yeah, like that."  He'd crawled beneath one of my legs and lay
flat on his back with his head lying on top of my other thigh.  His
breathing was shallow and fast.  I lowered my other leg so it rested on his
chest lightly.  He shivered as the hair on my legs tickled him.  I could
see from here that his dick was hard as a rock in his underwear.  He was
now scissored between my legs, practically lying right in my crotch.  "Now
turn on your side a little and face my crotch so you can see my cock coming
out of my boxers.  You wanted to get a good look at my cock, so you're
gonna."

He did it immediately.  His skinny body was trembling so hard it felt like
a vibrator was loose in my bed.  I cupped the back of his head with my palm
again.  He fit absofuckinglutely perfectly; and if there was any God in
heaven at all my little brother wouldn't have a gag reflex.  I took a deep
breath and let it out slowly.  I had to go slowly for Aiden; I needed to
progress methodically and patiently...

"Gah!" I squawked.  He'd leaned forward and eased the head of my cock into
his mouth, gently sliding his tongue up under the foreskin to swipe around
the head.  He moaned softly.

It was obvious that he was cleaning me.  I had said the foreskin wasn't
clean, so he was using his mouth to clean me; and he loved it.  And I
fucking loved it.  And while I didn't smell any leaves or warm ponies, the
little guy was definitely getting a mouthful of something redolent of old
socks.  He groaned and probed deeper, swiping gently around and around.
Holy submissive cocksucker, Batman.

"Yeah, okay, that's a good start, Spaz.  Real good."  So I'm not a fucking
porn star with my chatter; my brother was lapping up my cock cheese like he
was starving, and that made it a bit hard to concentrate.  My eyes rolled
back in my head as my whole world came down to Aiden's warm, slippery
tongue swirling cyclones around the glans of my cock.

Here's the thing with me and oral sex: I can never get enough.  I know that
everyone loves to get blown; what's not to like, yeah?  But for me it's
always been my favorite sex act.  It's not foreplay; it's not an optional
side dish.  A girlfriend who won't go down on me?  Total deal-breaker.
Without that act we're never going to be able to connect in any intimate
way.

But it's even way more than that; it's like when I'm getting blown my head
floats like I'm on drugs while my body thrums and buzzes.  Fuck it, I'm
describing it like there are insects up my ass... but hey, yeah!  It's like
there ARE insects way up inside my ass and I just can't fucking get enough
of it.  And after I cum in a toe-curling massive climax you wanna know what
I want?  MORE head.  I've never had a girlfriend that liked to suck as much
as my cock needed to be sucked; but to be fair, I've never had a vacuum
cleaner that liked to suck that much either.

I didn't want to do anything to hurt my brother further, and I knew this
whole thing I was doing was a real gamble.  But I could tell he needed this
human contact; he needed the direction, guidance, attention and closeness.
And if I got my own personal cocksucker out of the deal, I wasn't going to
complain.

Fuck no, my motives were not one hundred percent altruistic, but I figured
I could probably help the little fucker some and enjoy the hell out of it.
Was that wrong?  It was likely I'd find out; and the sure thing about being
a teenager was that I'd find out the hard way.

I guided his head gently away from my cock.

"No, please, Connor, please... I need..."  Aiden fought my hand and tried
to go after my cock again.

"Stop it right now, you little cocksucker."

He froze and met my eyes.

"You do what I want without question, yeah?  Or we're stopping this right
now."

"Yeah, Connor.  I'm sorry."

I nodded once.  "Okay.  We're gonna get these fucking boxers off of me."

I shifted and shimmied and with Aiden's help got the damn things completely
off and onto the floor.  During the process I felt Aiden's lips - at least
twice - against the shaft of my cock while we were squirming around.
Tricky fucker.

"You got my foreskin all cleaned up?" I asked him as he settled back down
into place.

"I think there's a lot more up in there, Con," he said solemnly.

I ended up coughing from trying to swallow my laugh, jostling his head on
my thigh.  He just looked at me with that serious look of his.  My cock was
throbbing now, standing straight up in anticipation of the attention it was
going to get.  I was over the average cock size, that's for sure, but I was
no freak of nature.  I only had one girl who could actually deep throat me
properly and I swear to God I would have married her back in my junior year
if I hadn't found out she was also deep throating all of my fucking
teammates.  I mean, of course I let her keep deep throating me too, but
there was no fucking way I was going to marry her.

I put both my hands around my cock and slowly peeled the foreskin back from
the head, letting Aiden see how big and shiny it was, and glistening slick
from his spit wash.

"Looks pretty clean, Spaz," I suggested easily.

"I can- I can get it cleaner..." Aiden stammered.  He was silent a moment,
eyes never once leaving the throbbing head of my prick.  "Please, Connor?"
He whispered against my skin.

I smiled at the hunger all over his face.  Fuck yeah, finally someone who
loved my cock as much as I did.  "Lick under the ridge of the head to clean
it good.  I'm really sensitive there so you gotta be gentle for this part.
Clean it good, Spaz."

It was fucking heaven.  His hands remained on my legs where he was gently
rubbing the hair, but his head leaned forward while he snaked his tongue
out and gently flicked it under the ridge of my swollen cock head, tickling
it with just the tip.  His warm breath puffed down the shaft as I tilted it
toward him and gave him good access.

"Little harder than that, I need to feel it.  Yeah, that's better.  Lap at
it with your whole tongue now, but go slow and gentle."

His whole body was trembling as he took slow, broad licks of my cockhead.
I was mesmerized by how perfect it was.  He was so careful.  He wanted to
please me so much, and fuck all if he wasn't doing just that.  God, that
felt nice.

His eyes finally looked up to mine while his tongue kept lapping
sensuously.  "You're gonna be working for hours," I told him softly.  "When
you're done cleaning off my cock, you're gonna lick all the sweat off my
balls.  If you do a really, really good job at that, then I'll let you suck
my cock nice and slow for the rest of the night."

He closed his eyes and moaned a guttural sound that must have come from the
very deepest part of him; it sounded like the grinding of all his bones
together.  He groaned and gasped and shuddered.  And although I saw the
expanding dark stain on his underwear from where his cock was spurting
inside it, he never once stopped licking my cock.  He just came without
touching himself at all; and it was the hottest fucking thing I'd ever
seen.  His breathing eventually slowed and evened out; and fucking
hallelujah for his work ethic, he kept licking my cock head as if
absolutely nothing had happened to him.

But then I noticed tears were leaking from his eyes, running slowly from
his cheeks and pattering on my thighs.  Fuck, I hoped it was a good thing
and not a bad one.

I tilted my shaft away from him.  "Balls," I said quietly, and he dipped
his head immediately to obey.  As he repositioned himself, there was a
sharp intake of breath that sounded like a sob and I almost called the
whole thing off; but before he settled down to my balls he glanced up at me
from under his lashes.

"Thank you, Connor," he breathed, and placed a light kiss on the inside of
my left thigh; then he started to service my sac.

He tilted his head and opened his lips to coax in a testicle, rolling it
gently and washing it in the warm spit of his mouth. I groaned in
appreciation and lightly rubbed the back of his head.  His eyes were closed
and his face had a look of intense concentration as he carefully bathed
that single tender orb.  He laved the wrinkled skin and gently tugged the
sac, stretching it just to the point of pain before leaning forward to give
me relief from the tension.  I let him do that for a good ten minutes
before directing him to the other one.

He kissed it lightly first and let the tip of his tongue out to trace a
sinuous pattern along the sensitive flesh, tattooing it with a silvery
snail trail of spit.  When he'd written all he desired on the skin, he
pulled it into his mouth and sucked it while his tireless tongue continued
to writhe all around it.  He washed every trace of sweat from me,
occasionally swallowing it down, which caused firm pressure as his mouth
tightened and the suction ratcheted up.

When he completed his work, he carefully released my swollen ball from his
lips and then pressed his entire face into my scrotum, rubbing the saliva
that coated it all over his lips, cheeks, and nose.  His moan sounded a bit
agonized and he pushed harder, as if trying to merge his face with my body.
I could tell he was having trouble breathing with his whole face mashed
into my crotch like that, but he didn't let up, slowly moving his head from
side to side and nuzzling anything his lips touched.

"Jesus," I whispered in awe, "Fucking... Holy..."  He was literally rolling
around in my scent, trying to get it embedded into his skin.  My little
brother was at an altar and worshipping for all he was worth.  I've never
been anyone's god before, and I'll admit it was a little heady; I fuckin'
loved it.  My hand was on the back of his head, pulling him toward me,
smashing his face into my scrotum; and I was arching my back a bit, pushing
into him, grinding that area between my balls and asshole against his chin
while he continued to groan from somewhere deep inside his chest.

I decided that letting him breathe would probably be a good thing, and
lowered my hips back to the bed, tugging his hair a little to get him to
back away and grab some air.  He did so with a gasp and looked up at me
with bright eyes.  He was the happiest I'd ever seen him.

"All I can smell is you, all I can hear is you..." he said softly.
"Everything else is so quiet. It's... wonderful."  His breath hitched, and
then he grinned shyly.  "Did I do a good job, Connor?" he asked, darting in
to place another quick kiss on my nuts.  "Did I do a good enough job to
suck your cock for you?  It's okay if I'm not good enough yet.  I can lick
your balls all night tonight and maybe I'll get good enough."

I coughed as another laugh bubbled inside me.  He spent the time waiting
for my answer by licking and kissing the balls he had just tried to merge
with, soothing and serving them, ensuring he hadn't hurt them in his
frenzy.

"Fuck, Spaz..." I said with a sigh.  I reached down languidly with my hand
and gave a slow, luxurious stroke to my aching cock.  "Keep licking and
sucking those balls, little brother.  You don't stop until I tell you to.
I'm gonna slowly stroke this great big cock of mine while my personal ball
licker does his work."

Aiden grunted contentedly in assent and lapped hungrily at my gonads.  I
murmured my pleasure and settled back in the dark, slowly pumping my
swollen cock and enjoying the warm, wet swirling from his tongue.  Christ,
this wasn't going to take long; the muscles in my ass were already
tightening and the ones in my thighs were vibrating.  The crackle of
lightening that starts behind my balls had started arcing up my cock; my
heels were planted in the sheets and my hips were starting to buck, making
Aiden chase after my balls with his mouth.

Precum had been leaking out of my cock; and I pumped my shaft, squeezing
until it gathered into drops that rolled down my fist and then dripped onto
my brother's face.  The head of my prick was well- lubricated and the
foreskin slid easily back and forth over my glans like an oiled sleeve.
The lightening was whipping up my spine, causing shivering convulsions in
my muscles.  I was taking shallow breaths and preparing for the climax when
Aiden suddenly sucked my balls into his mouth and pulled on them hard.

"FUCK!"  I hissed, sending a fountain of cum up over my torso and onto the
pillow behind my left shoulder.  I moaned as the spasms shook every muscle
in my body, tightening them up for the next volley which painted my
abdomen.  The final spurts dribbled all over my pubic hair and then oozed
down the shaft of my cock to form a big pool at its base.

Luckily, Aiden needed no instructions because I couldn't speak any words
that weren't made completely of vowels.  He rose to his knees and pressed
his lips into the warm pool of my semen and slurped it up.  He licked my
shorthairs until they were clean before he lapped up my abdomen and I think
he even sucked as much as he could from my pillowcase, but I was sort of
out of it there for a while.  Finally, I felt his gentle tongue swabbing
the cum from my cock.  Obviously, he's saved this treat for last, and he
ran the flat of his tongue over the shaft lightly, making sure not to
stimulate the hypersensitive head.  He never sucked it into his mouth, just
licked it from top to bottom until the stickiness was gone.

He settled back into his place, curled into my crotch with his head
pillowed on my thigh.  He opened his mouth and gently pulled both my balls
in and simply held them there while he closed his eyes and prepared to
sleep.  The leg I had draped over his chest was held tightly in a hug.

I looked down at his face.  He seemed relaxed, but tired.  I got the
feeling he didn't sleep very much.  My plans for a really long session were
going to have to wait a day or two; the kid needed some rest.  I gently
tousled his hair and cupped the back of his head to hold him to me.

"G'night, Spaz," I said softly.  Then I yawned and settled back to sleep,
my balls wet and warm in the mouth of my brother.



*

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