My little brother has always liked to climb into bed with me and cuddle. He's a soft, angelic boy a couple of years younger: sweet and cheerful and bright, with creamy white skin, dark hair and moist red lips. I've never complained: he's cute, he's warm, he usually smells good and I love him. When he was about ten, he started opening his jammies and putting my hand on his pee-pee, to hold and pet his little boner and cup and cradle and pat his creamy young balls. Once in a while, when we had a little more time to play, he'd beg me to touch his little hole, eagerly holding himself open with one hand, and I would barely touch him there, just with the tip of my finger, softly stroking and then teasing, as if to break through. I'd tell him what a good, good, sweet boy he is, while he'd whimper softly at my touch, spreading in intimate surrender. His pee-pee gets very, very hard from this. He spreads his legs and thrashes and makes little nonsense coo-ing sounds and babble and baby talk.

Soon, he was coming to me every night, crawling up and reaching out to feel my balls, to bury his face and nuzzle them through my briefs, and then to reach in to touch my naked boner, soft boy hand caressing the head thrillingly, gently invading my briefs with his cool, soft little hands to explore and cup my sack, to make me scrunch up urgent and hard and helpless and gasping. "Honey bag," he says, cupping and caressing my sack, "Give me your honey bag," plucking the back skin with his soft fingers. After a few nights he tried kissing the head, then, later, softly mouthing and licking it, taking the head between his lips and sucking my shaft, high boy voice moaning his enjoyment. "Boner," he'd murmur prayerfully, running soft fingers through my sparse new hairs, "Big boy boner," and he'd suck me and I'd lie there at the mercy of his sweet red lips, sexually his, helpless: taken and owned by my little brother. He's sweet and he's cute and he's kind and tender and he loves me and he makes me come so hard my head spins.

There was a little more light the other night, and I could see what a hard, hard pee-pee my baby brother had when he was sucking. I asked him if he had a "boner from suck-y," and he assured me, "Oh, yes, Suck-y Boner. That's my favorite kind of boner I like to get."

After he sucks me, I tenderly caress his eager young pee-pee, feeling the boy shape of him. I kiss his tender bag and run my face all over the exquisite softness of him, baby powder smell, then suck him till he croons and thrusts and gasps and pants and starts to shake. As he's gotten bigger, so has his boner and it thrills me when I feel the boy-urge take him: to thrust, thrust, cheeks rosy with arousal, to bury his young boner deep into my mouth all the way. I thrill to feel his steel hard diameter thrusting, my sweet young angel in my mouth -- every bit of him. Boyish shape of his head, frank and tender. Love to feel him tremble and lose control, softly cry out his rising joy, cry out his sharp, innocent angel boy orgasm. Then pulsing, pulsing in my mouth.

This night, I went to his bed, touching him tenderly through his soft jammies, feeling him plump up, softly rousing him from sleep, reaching in and caressing his bag until, stiff and thrusting and moaning, he frantically got boy-naked for me. Cupping and tugging his smooth, chubby young balls as he moaned, I sucked him softly, and began to tickle his sweet little hole. He used both his hands to spread himself, urgent for me to touch and stroke the very, very center, the hungry magic gateway, making him squeal and tremble. I put spit on my finger and just barely probed the yielding center, teasing, finding the yielding way, adding hand cream, slowly sneaking a little deeper as he begged. Gently invading a little more, finally welcomed into his clinging heat, as he whined and moaned and panted. Trembling as I gently, tenderly, began to finger him, he was making little groany desperate sounds and begging for deeper. I put cream on my thumb and switched to it, then to two fingers, him pressing back onto my hand, groaning "Aahh, aaah!" and babbling baby stuff.

"We're gonna do fuck-y now," I breathed. "I want to give you fuck-y. Suck me and get your best suck-y boner and then you can have my big-boy boner in your bottom."

Sucking me, he moans tickle-y around my boner. I nuzzle and kiss his boy parts, plucking tenderly at the back of his bag. Him sucking and moaning around the big boy boner he craves. I suck and finger him. He raises his sweet young legs, to eagerly spread for me. I position myself, both of us now moaning for it. Hypnotically, I slide my boner alongside his soft bag, one side, then the other, one side, then the other, my boner pulsing: "Now I need to give you fuck-y with my big boy boner and I love you."

"I want fuck-y so bad," he groans, "I love you," sounding drunk. "I'm hungry inside my bottom for boner. Big boy boner. Put your big boy boner in me. Inside me. I want big boy boner. Yummy. Boner inside. Yummy honey bag: I want to kiss your bag."

I scoot up, so he can wrap his cool hand around the base of my hot stiff boner. It pulses against the gentle pressure of his little hand, as he buries his sweet downy face in my cool balls, running his face across them, deeply inhaling, mouthing them, moaning, mumbling reverently, praying to my balls and my dick: "Honey bag, honey bag, fuck-y, fuck-y, boner in me, boner in me, honey bag, big soft honey bag, fuck-y, fuck-y, big boy boner, big boy boner." He pulls my boner down and sucks the big tender head, trembling hard as he sucks.

He holds my penis in place trembly, as I touch it to his little hole, touch again, tease his bottom, pulsing, tenderly pressing, now moving to slide hypnotically in the groove next to his plump bag, between his silky thigh and plump boyish bag, pulsing, smearing my cool fluid on his tender sack, on his hole, teasing, making him wait for it, making him whine, feeling his hole wink with anticipation, wink, wink. Taking the boner away, to glide next to his bouncy sack, between his thigh and his bouncy sack, one side, the other, back to touch, to slide across the willing eager hole, pulsing, placing my cool fluid there, making him wink again, beg for penetration, moan with desire. To leave his hole, slide alongside and come back, slide and come back, slide across the back of his needy, bouncy bag. Groaning his need, winking, winking. The intimacy of it engulfs us. I stop thinking; the frankness of this, being with him, feeling my virgin brother's bottom need. His softness. Loving him. Feeling his surrender, his winking with desire. This time I stay there, tenderly touching his hole all during his wink, his hole eagerly tasting me, my fluid oozing onto his opening. Still there, big and slippery and warm, when he opens again in dreamy moaning trust, in needy surrender. Now pressing.

Greedily, triumphantly, he welcomes my gentle invasion, growling his need, as it happens, as he finally begins to receive. Big boy boner painlessly feeding his hungry little bottom in little tiny stages. Promising, promising, now pulsing; urgent fluid. Entering him so slowly, shallowly, withdrawing, entering again just a tiny bit more, pulsing my sweet fluid. Gently, slowly, deepening tenderly, deepening only as he's ready, as he gladly admits me, as he opens to welcome me, as he exults in the languorous penetration, in finally having me inside of him. Watching his face: joyous, red lips softly parted, transported. Begging me deeper, he lies spread and hard, totally focused on the deepening phallus: receiving me, receiving me, exalted, glad for boner, glad for boner, babbling incoherent words of brother love and boy sex. Gently, tenderly, I withdraw, barely at first, and slowly return a tiny bit, feeling him hot and tight and soft around me, welcoming me, cherishing each penetration. A little more each time, hypnotically, out and back into the clinging warm boy-softness. So warm, so willing, so impossibly soft around my penis. Out and back home into his heat. His suck-y boner growing bigger, harder, filling out, the head of his virgin penis flaring unashamedly with the deep new joy of fuck-y. A fuck-y boner for him at last, bottom boy flaring joyously purple, to finally feel the big boy boner inside of him. Deep, moving even deeper, to find and satisfy every willing place, a boner to clutch on and chant and moan around, flaring, surrendered, abandoned, flaring. Virgin angel boy, full and loved.

Sliding deep in this boy, now: his bottom yielding, submitting gladly, opening more to receive me deeper, deeper. Opening, then gripping. Opening for more, for more; gripping to check, to confirm, to exult in the reality: big, male, touching deep, so big, so stiff, pressing, touching deeper, tender, big, moving. Deeper, always a little deeper.

Opening. Focused. Receiving. Glad. Gripping joyous around boner, around stiffness, around bigness, around big boy maleness. Ever deeper touching, big, deep, deeper. The enormous fact of being deeply fucked. Prayerful connection. Fucked by a big boy at last. Big boy boner moving deep inside of him, knowing him, touching, satisfying his deep need. Touching. Gripping: Aaah! Still there. Safe to keep giving himself. Gripping: safe to need, to open, safe to surrender himself for the next deep touching, for the next big boy thrust. Safe to need this, to receive, receive in the very center of him. There: fulfilling penis truth in his deep place. There, there: receiving fuck joy, nothing held back. There: angel fuck-y boner sweetly drooling another clear drop of surrender with each welcome big boy thrust.

My boy groans, pants, groans again, in the gathering ecstasy of his bottom joy, thrashing his head from side to side. Moans of rapture, rising, rising, now urgent. His high voice soft, full of wonder: "So big! Deep! In! In! So big, big, big. In! In! Hard. Hard! Big boner in me... Big boy. Boner. Big boy. Boner. Boner. Boner ..." Calling. Gripping.

Bathed in his sweet, intimate, boyish joy, deep in warm boy, smooth boy, soft boy. He pulls me deeper, boy-tenor rising from groan to whine: "Oh! Oh! O-o-oh! Boner!" Buried deep in him, deep, helpless, moving barely, I hang there, buried deep, buried deep, my ecstasy rising in his boy heat, I feel him tremble, grip. I press to know him even deeper. Inside him, I whimper toward the jagged edge of glory.

"Big boner in me... I'm gonna come. I'm gonna... I'm... I'm coming... I'm coming from... in... Ahhhh! ... Hhhh! ... Hhhh! ..." I feel him coming: sweet, wondering, boyish, gripping, trembly. Inflamed, deep in him, sharing his bottom joy, I am swept to the inevitable. I clench, press deeper, time stops: here together with him, knowing his shivery tender bottom boy come, his deep shudder of release, clamping around me, shuddering, clamping, crying out his joy, clamping around the very base of my big, deep boner. Knowing, feeling, his virgin come, I flower sharp and hard inside him, coming boyish with him, deep in him: blind need and sharp, sweet, long, hard release. I pump my grateful, deep completion into his boy tenderness, boy softness: into my brother's heat.