Date: Fri, 24 Jul 2015 13:33:51 +0000 (UTC) From: a4f101 Subject: Eli Comes Home Greetings, dudes. Been stroking my dick to the amazing stories on Nifty since 1999, so I figured it was about time to do my part. I've been writing dirty family stories on my Tumblr – a4f101.tumblr.com – for a few months now, and I'm sharing them here with you too. There's more there, too – more stories, from me and my likeminded buds – so come check it out. Hit the Story Time link at the top for more than 250 dirty tales, all by me, with the pics that inspired them. You can see this story, and the pic that inspired it, here: http://a4f101.tumblr.com/post/109634722579/ This story is an original work of fiction, copyright me 2015. I own it, and all legal rights to it. If you're not of legal age in your jurisdiction to be reading it, do us both a favor and come back to it when you are. Love to hear from you guys. a4f101@yahoo.com. And hey – Nifty is an incredible, free resource. Changed my life, and probably did the same for you, this amazing treasure-trove of fantasies. If you can, please support them with a donation – even just a few bucks. Nobody pays for porn anymore, sure, and that's why we keep losing incredible resources like Handjobs Magazine. Don't let the Nifty Archive be another. Somewhere out there, a kid is just discovering this site. Having his world rocked, and his dick raised. You and me, we were kids like that, once. Let's keep it going, for them and for us. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ***** Eli was different when he came back from Iraq. Physically, he was pretty much fine, beyond some scarring on his back from that thing he never wanted to talk about, the explosion that had killed a half-dozen of his tightest buddies in Anbar. Besides that, he looked amazing, bigger, more powerfully muscled than when he'd shipped out, up a whole size in his uniform. I felt guilty for checking him out that way, always had, but especially now that he was home and had changed inside. I wanted to help him, not perv out over him, but like any teenager, it was always hard to keep the two in balance. My parents didn't know what to say to him, beyond the standard platitudes, which only seemed to make him withdraw even more. I knew he and Christina had been having trouble last time he was home, and when he broke up with her in a furious, screaming rage, it wasn't exactly a shock to any of us. I went and found him that night, after she'd peeled out of our driveway, found the big Marine hunched on the ground, looking up at the moon, tears streaking down his unshaven face as he wrapped his thick arms around his knees and shook. He startled when my hand touched the big, steely mound of his shoulder, then eased slightly as I slid my arm around his bull neck, squeezing lightly. He didn't need any more words, just needed somebody there for him in his corner. We'd always had each other's backs growing up, and I wanted to show him that I'd learned from him. Was becoming a man like him. Would always be here for him. We started spending a lot of time together after that, and in doing things together, reestablishing the easy, comfortable brother bond, he started to open up to me gradually. Shooting hoops down at the park until dark, running together in the early morning, washing and waxing his sweet GTO. That one in particular stood out to me, for the way his bod had bulked up so much since last time, the newer tattoos highlighting his power, his presence, shiny with sweat and overspray from the hose. One day, he caught me checking him out, and he just stared at me with an unreadable expression. I was scared, scared I'd fucked it up, scared of what this big, powerful, slightly unpredictable Marine could or would do to me for my weakness. But he didn't say a word, just finished the car, and before dinner hit the table that night, he'd gone for a long drive. I hoped like hell he'd come back, if only so I could apologize, make it the way it had been again. I woke up around midnight, and almost jumped out of my skin when I saw him sitting on the side of my bed, looking down at me, watching me sleep. His expression was unreadable still, but as I sat up, the sheet slipping down my bare teenage torso, the moonlight showing how much I'd grown since last time he'd seen me, how much of a man I was becoming, I saw him giving me a slow once-over. Then he looked at me, and finally spoke. "Let's talk, Jake," he whispered, then motioned me to follow him through the bathroom connecting our rooms, into his. The room hadn't changed a bit since he'd left for basic at 18. Still the same bikini babe posters on the wall, pictures of muscle cars, his football and wrestling trophies, all the artifacts of a young man he no longer was, one he'd left behind in a burning MRAP in the sandy wastelands of the Middle East. Even he looked around at it all like he didn't recognize it, but when he turned back to me, a slow smile spread over his handsome, tanned face, and my heart leapt. He opened those big, steely arms, corded with muscle and crawling with ink, and after some hesitation, I stepped in. And felt the instant warmth of our brother bond, the way we'd been before the war, tight and close and loving. When it happened, the kiss was a surprise, but completely natural. I just went with it, as his big hands began to roam over my bare torso, exploring the fast-growing young muscle I'd packed on, the smooth, unmarked skin stretched over my frame. I'd started using his old weights in the garage with him before he left, and kept it up while he was gone, and he was impressed with the results, telling me so, his voice low and deep in my ear, big hands squeezing, exploring, loving my young body. We kissed again, and again, and I was so fucking hard for him. He was hard for me too, and when he sat me down on his bed and stripped for me, slow and easy, his eyes intent on mine, that big, thick cock of his showed me I wasn't alone in my secret desire for my own brother. My boxer briefs came off easily in his hands, and as he pressed me back into his big bed and our bodies came together, fitting perfectly, our mouths found each other again. I let my big brother come to me, come for me, become himself in my arms, as we sweated, quietly moaned, thrust together, made love. He breached my tight teenage hole with surprising tenderness, breaking me in first with his thick, warm tongue, then his big bare Marine cock, with a gentleness at complete odds with his jacked body and badass tattoos, the rough texture of the scarred skin stretched across the thick muscles of his back. He rode me slow and deep, long and thick, making me come twice before he unleashed his own brother load deep inside me. It was getting towards dawn as we lay together, bodies intertwined, sweat cooling as we traded kisses back and forth, touched each other, and finally talked. Really talked. About Anbar, about the best friend he'd loved like this, and watched die. The buddy who reminded him of me. "You're home, Eli," I whispered against his lips as I kissed him. "Home with me, bro. Be with me, now." He smiled at me now, as I kissed away the tears he'd spilled talking about Hank, and squeezed me tight to his big muscled chest. That was when Eli started to get better again.