Date: Sun, 22 Apr 2018 22:17:25 -0500 From: Armando F Subject: New Adventures with Older Brother part 2 Disclaimer – This story is a work of fiction, and depicts incestual sexual action between teen boys. If you are uncomfortable with that, or live in a community where that material is forbidden, please stop reading. Don't forget, Nifty is a great resource, so please donate! http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html Thank you so much for the responses, everyon, I really appreciate them. I'm glad to know you all are enjoying it. Please keep the feedback coming. Email it to army.mando9@gmail.com Chapter 2: Brief Thoughts on Briefs. I returned to my room, still flushed and a little confused about what kept popping up in my mind, but I chalked it up to horny teenage syndrome. Threw on some clothes, made a call to some friends, and biked to the park to kill time. Before I knew it, dusk started to descend, so I quickly biked home to make sure I didn't miss dinner. This was the first real night we will all be together again, so I imagine mom has something good planned. Upon reaching home, I noticed Ben's dads truck parked outside. Probably dropping off the rest of Ben's junk. Probably needed an entire trip for whatever Hollister basic shirts alone. Or maybe those briefs... I'd buy him a truckload of those alone... Wait, did I just think that? Armando, stop being weird... "Oh honey, there you are," Mom smiled at me, "dinner is almost ready. Ben, did you wanna tell your brother the good news?" I look at Ben, slouched on the couch, excitingly swinging a pair of keys in his hand. "Yeah Army, my dad gave me his old truck! Now I can go and take chicks wherever I want!" "Ahem!" Mom coughed loudly, "Well you have to actually pass your drivers test first, Ben... And even then, Ben, no screwing in your truck. Those stains are hard to clean out..." "Gross mom, stop!" Ben and I retorted, both disgusted by our mothers sense of humor. Shes a sweet and caring person, a hard working single mother, but I think only having boys has corrupted her sometimes. Or maybe she was always like this and we never got her jokes till now. Mom made chicken alfredo, delicious as usual, and we enjoyed our first dinner as a nice family... despite some kicks under the table at each other and thinly veiled insults. Honestly, despite the initial awfulness I felt, this could be nice. Well, if Ben could keep to himself. But we all knew he couldn't. The weekend came and went, and my honeymoon phase faded with it. Ben immediately set himself in a routine of waking up to torture me, us insulting each other, throwing more shit, and generally trying to make our lives miserable. The only respite was watching Ben undress at night, which my mind would immediately ditch all anger and replaced it with a more primal urge. Ben seemed to have gotten all his underwear back from his dad, and being able to see his body in different shades of sexy fucking briefs drove me up the wall. I always tried to disguise my staring, but I was starving for more than just glimpses. Tonight, he gave my mind and my cock a shock to our system. After removing his jeans again, I discovered the color red, as though his scarlet briefs had introduced new vibrancy, burning deep within my loins as the image burned into my mind. But even better, he turned around, looking for something on the bunk below me, and I saw the dark trail of delicious hair that led from his belly button to the glory below. The pouch was nicely filled out, the shape of cock and balls, balls and cock, cock, balls, dick... Fuck, hunger has taken me. As if to tease the reveal even further, my brother absent-mindedly reached down and slipped his hand past the band of temptation, and to the treasure, fondling, fiddling, finagling with himself. From the eternally too brief peek into his briefs, I saw a forest of dark hair, but nothing more. But that glimpse drove me to the edge, I felt my cock making a stain in my own underwear from pre-cum leaking at a rate that I'm sure was dangerous. Now forced to hide my obvious erect shame, I fled beneath the covers, scared beyond all reason at the idea my brother may discover this temptation, this obsession, this urge. "... Umm... are you okay, weirdo?" Is silence an appropriate answer? I don't think my voice can hide the quiver of my body attempting to make itself climax. "Y-yeah, I'm fine... Just c-cold, thanks." "Okay... whatever, lights out." Ben dryly responded, snapping the lights, and jumping into his bunk. Sleep.... come on, sleep.... Fucking sleep, Armando. I tried my best to will myself to pass out, to end the ball crushing torture in my loins, but after what felt like hours (or 45 minutes, according to the clock), I was nothing but a hard cock and an endless fantasy of the hot guy 4 feet below me. Eventually, instinct took over... I listened to the darkness for a minute, trying to determine if my brother was asleep or not, but it was hard to hear over the fan (fucker, I said I was cold.) The white noise should be enough to obscure any noises I make... at least, I told myself as much. I lifted my butt up, and pulled my still sticky boxer-briefs off, exposing my begging cock to the world. I was now split between wanting to cum fast to go to bed, or to go slow and enjoy the show still playing in my mind: Ben in his fire red briefs, his bulge begging for attention, his hands running along his body, from the nice wide and fuzzy chest that you could lay your head on and never wake up, to his warm and equally fuzzy tummy, with its dark hairy road to that inhibiting waistband. How I desperately wanted to just lick, suck, bite, eat, love, cum, anything to get that body and mine as one. Picturing how he would look as I tried to seduce him, how he'd laugh at me, joke about my awkwardness, but spread his legs wider, inviting... "Hey you little fuck, check out this monster!" Dream Ben said, grabbing his still soft dick in their red prison. "Bet you wanna see it, don't you? You're such a fag, but you totally wanna suck-" *Squeak* What was that? I heard something... That wasn't me, I hope... But even after I stopped stroking, the minor squeaks continued, rhythmically... Then it dawned on me... Ben had to be jacking off. His beds springs betrayed his actions. I listened deeper, hoping beyond all hope to hear a mere moan, a sign, a confirmation that my brother, the pussy chasing macho, still enjoyed the comfort of his hand. * Slap slap slap slap slap slap.* There it is, the unmistakable sound of skin hitting skin. My sexual vigor now renewed with the force of a thousand horny bulls, I joined in. The image that my brother was stroking his cock, his red briefs pushed down to his ankles, maybe using his right hand? I bet hes a left hander, he would like the different feeling. Maybe he loves playing with his balls, like me, or pinching his nipples, or simply resting his empty hand against the back of his head. Maybe he used both hands, like churning butter. At this point, anything was possible, and everything was really fucking hot... The ideas came and went, fast as my fantasy could take me. Part of me was curious, desperate even, to peek at the divine scene below, but I could not risk that. Could I? "Uhh... mmmm.... fuck..." Bem whispered to himself, straining to keep his voice low, but the quiver was unmistakable. The springs and the slaps slowed down, his bed slightly reacting against his orgasm, and I joined in, shooting all over my chest and stomach. I shoved a bit of my pillow into my mouth to bite, forcing myself to not moan or curse, avoiding any indication that I joined my brother (or worse yet, got off to him...) I covered myself as quickly and quietly as I could, but I kept my eyes exposed, eager that Ben would have to clean whatever divine essence he spilled onto that gorgeous body of his... It must be annoying to wipe the body fuzz clean, but hey, I could always volunteer my tongue. No, stop that, stop thinking like that, damn it. And just like that, he stood up, a little slowly and quietly, trying not to disturb the room. Ben took a step over to the laundry hamper, and there, I caught a glimpse of heaven itself. Despite the darkness, his body seemed to glow in the dark, or perhaps it was the moonlight peeking through the windows, joining me as we observed that sexy beast. Ben's ass, 2 perfect globes, a little paler than his back, the tan lines framing that delicious bottom. A sparse set of hair dotted the canvas, giving texture from the clean edges to the fuzzy center. A mans ass for sure, thick enough to show strength, hairy enough to show masculinity, and and I could feel myself salivate. But this taste didn't prepare me for... How does one describe the difference from looking at a light bulb to staring at the sun. And what a sun it was. He turned around, lazily using an old shirt to wipe the cum off his chest and stomach, and I followed his cleaning down, and was blessed. By all that was holy, I could die happy. Surrounded by a nice thick forest of dark hair, never having known the touch of a razor, was Ben's manhood, his pride and joy, his cock. Even after having released the nectar of the gods mere minutes ago, he was still a little hard, leaving 6 lazy inches of pale, uncut meat, lowering itself to rest atop of a equally hairy and thick set of balls, still tight to his body after his climax. He peeled his foreskin back, revealing a thick purple-pinkish head, a small pearl of white-clearish cum peeking out. He cleaned it with a finger, and my eyes widen as he brought that lucky digit to his lips, and gave it a light lick. I couldn't believe it, but even worse, I couldn't taste it. Returning his hands back down, he scratched himself. His cock, now exhausted, has retreated to a still strong 4-ish inch soft limp, head covered completely by a nice and relaxed sheath. Even like this, he still had girth, as though his cock wanted to be a show off like him (no surprise his actual dick would match his dickface attitude.) A small mix of thin and thick veins webbed themselves through the delicious hunk of meat. And with a yawn and a lazy toss of his used shirt back to the hamper, Ben returned to bed. Some minor shuffling of blankets and limbs, and the show had ended. I sat in silence for a few minutes, waiting for his next move, but all I could hear now were snores. Ben had fallen asleep, and soon I joined him there too, exhausted but happy knowing what we shared, and what I stole... ... I woke up as early as I could, my alarm set to make sure I was up before mother grabbed the laundry. Peeking to the bottom, I saw Ben was already awake and gone. Good, no interruptions. With a leap and a bound that would make the track team at my school proud, I darted to the hamper. And there it was, a balled up old pop-punk concert shirt, the now dry evidence of last night. I shoved my face deep into it, trying to smell and absorb Ben through it. But to my disappointment, all I could smell was the intoxicating scent of his deodorant and detergent, and the ghost of a salty taste. Nothing sexually tangible, but still, small victories. I tossed the shirt up on my bed, covered it with a blanket, and started my day. I went to the bathroom, but the door was close. Dammit Ben, I just wanted to piss... I pressed my ear to the door, and to my delight, heard the lowering of a zipper. Then the heavy sound of liquid hitting water. It persisted for a little bit, Ben relieving himself, and I found myself getting flustered. Images of him, standing tall, pissing loudly to audibly mark his territory, his face showing the enjoyment of the release. Ben sighed loudly, the jingle of his denim prison and leather binding re-locking, and the flush of a toilet. The door opened. "Woah, fuck, Army!" Ben was startled, backing up a bit. "Back off, will you? Perv..." He walked away. "Maybe you should wash your hands, you animal." I retorted, a sneer scrawled on my face. "Maybe you should lick my piss hands clean if you give a fuck so much." ... Fuck, I would love to, you douche. Don't tempt me with... Oh my dear lord, stop it. Control yourself, you stupid horny fucker. Sadly we went our seperate ways, piss hands and tongue never meeting. I walked into the living room, and mom was prepping some stuff for Ben. "Armando, I'm gonna drop Ben off as the DMV to go take his test, so make yourself some lunch. I'll be back later." "Okay, y'all have fun. I'll stay here, bored.." And with a slam of a door, they were gone. ... Things would change when my brother returns home, pissed and yelling and cursing the high heavens. "Fuck, they didn't check that right. I studied! I was going to pass that shit! That teacher had it out for me!" my brother droned on and on, ranting. From the sound of it, Ben failed his driving test. Me, never losing a chance to snipe back, muttered " You know, studying involves actually opening a book and reading, Ben..." Ben didn't take to that well, like an angry bear being prodded. He stormed up to me, and shoved me against the wall, his reddening face spitting insults and threats at me. I backed off, but not out of fear... This display of anger unlocked something in me, some deep seated warmth in my chest and loins. I found myself short of breath, overcome with inexplicable desire. "Fuck off, Army." He pushed me again back into the wall, and it took all my effort to suppress my emotions, which would most likely make this whole thing worse. I just stared back at him, trying not to back down. But he kept pushing, punctuating every curse with more pain."Just because you wanna be a smart... ass... dick... head... doesn't... fucking... mean... you can run... your... fucking mouth." With a newfound feral rage, Ben threw me to the ground, and stormed out, leaving me confused and hard. I wasn't sure if it was the alpha male posturing, or the intimidation, or maybe just the basic physical touch, but something about Ben at that moment just clicked with my mixed feelings. Its then that I realized that I truly, desperately wanted my brother. End of Chapter 2 Thanks for reading again!