Date: Sat, 2 Feb 2019 18:50:34 +0000 From: Writer Guy Subject: Our Agreement - Chapter 1 Hello, everyone this is my first story. I thought I'd write a little something to see what others think. Please let me know if you like what I have written, and send feedback so I can try to improve the story. You can send feedback to thatwriterguy1@outlook.com ----------- Our Agreement - Part 1 Jackson has never been a nice person; well not to anyone but me. My brother has always been a lost cause on that case. Except when he is kind, he really trumps all forms of awful. Peering across at him as he paces back and forth the room. It is beginning agitating me in a way. I believed for a moment that I'd be able to lay down and rest except his constant frustration has me anxious, and how in all things holy can I listen to my music undisturbed. Removing my headphones, I drop them on my lap. "Can you please stop that... You're driving me nuts," I state. Jackson's pompous stride jerked momentarily, and he stopped in the center of the room. My brothers glare unsettled me in a way it has never done so. To me, Jackson's hard stare scornfully burned at my incompetent attempt at trying to extinguish his perturbation. Yet, instead of letting it go, his annoyance shone through. Jackson started back and forth across the room anew. This is the thing about sharing a room with your older brother. Not by much mind you. Jackson is only a year and a half older than I. Jackson is 15, and me, thirteen. However, living in such confined living space with my older more domineering brother has never been made easy. Sure, he is nice, but Jackson has claimed ownership over more than half the bedroom. Plus, I don't mind the official claim. All I care about now is his stupid pacing back and forth the room. For most of the day, I don't spend any time in the room at all. My escape is in the workshop out in the yard, and I guess I have made that compromise, which I might add has been worth all the trouble in the long run. Only, when I desperately want to go to sleep at night, Jackson never does. When I traded my privacy rights to have the workshop out back, I never set more primitive ground rules. The only agreements where that Jackson would stay out of my personal space out in the yard. I gave him permission to own the room, and that I'd give him personal blowjobs whenever he wanted them. The original idea was to do his homework, but I quickly traded that after a month and a half for something new. The idea was his. Our agreement never reached moms ears, but I guess my deed did cut down on the number of socks my brother used, and in one way lightened the laundry load if you catch my drift. In a weird sense tonight, however, Jackson hasn't asked for one. Not to make this sound weird, but it's Friday night. Usually, every Friday Jackson will lay on the bed, get me to lay next to him and suck him for a little bit. I suppose in a way I am relieved, yet at the same time, I miss having to give him head. Just after dinner, my brother's mood had soured when he learned that his best friend Taylor had ditched him for the weekend over a girl. I guess it doesn't take much smarts to put together a reaction of a fifteen-year-old boy. My brother became a little pee'd off and of course, perhaps mentioned some unkind words to Taylor, resulting in a bit of a fight between them. Now, this was a common occurrence among the two, except when Jackson gave me that look, I honestly thought he was going to pounce on me. Deciding my case is hopeless tonight, and that Jackson wouldn't want me to suck him off, I lean across, as I ravel my earbuds up and place my iPhone on the bedside locker. Shredding my t-shirt, I drop it off the side of the bed, lift the comforter and crawl under the covers. In a dim silhouette cast by our desk lamp, Jackson scrutinized every word he read on his cellphone. Settling myself beneath the blankets, I peer out at my brother pacing about, that is until he notices me and Jackson slows down. My brother looks to me, denoting that he is sorry for disturbing me. Typically, something Jackson ever does. Instead, he plops down on the edge of his bed, hunches over with his arms on his knees, staring into the abyss on the device in his hands. After a couple of minutes, my brother huffed, discharged his phone on the bedside table, before undressing and crawling into bed. I don't dare talk, my brother is clearly pissed, but I can only bring myself to wonder, is the problem that bad as to not want his nightly blowjob. I have gotten so used to doing it at this point, Jackson practically allows me every night without having to ask. Except, Fridays are special. On Friday's Jackson offers to return the favor. I don't really complain because it actually feels good. Reaching down under the blankets, Jackson dug his hand beneath the comforter and struggled a moment. My brother withdrew his hand with his briefs, disposing them on the floor. Stretching across to the lamp his eyes peered across to me before the click of the drawstring retracted, and the room shifted to pitch black. Little black dotes pixelated my vision as I tried to make out my brother on the far side of the room, but I soon grew tired of listening to the silence after Jackson made himself comfortable in his bed. Drifting lightly between consciousness and unconsciousness, Jackson gave off some funny sounds from across the way. Listing closely, I heard my brother toss about in the bed. Except for the longer I listen, the likelihood of him moving fades away, until there is a steady rhythm to his movements. It is then I understand entirely what my older brother is doing. Somewhere over there with the speedy pumping sound, Jackson is jerking off. The idea seemed totally hot, and even if I am slightly disappointed that he doesn't want my personal assistance, I am aroused by the thought of my brother doing it all the same. Tracing my fingers down my flat, hairless stomach, I tease myself for what is to come. Pushing the palm of my hand over my boxers, I find a hardness which has now taken shape. Grabbing hold of the tenting fabric, I rub across my dick. Subconsciously my head rolls back in my pillow, and I glance up toward the ceiling. Tentatively, I grind my hand across my crotch and let out a small whimper. At the same time, Jackson lets out a gentle moan from the other side of the room. Except his hand action stopped momentarily and began again, as he listened to what was happening. Without saying anything, I continue my motion of pushing back and forth across my dick. Hard as iron, I try bending my erection, only, it cannot be done. Instead, I work my hand back up to the waistband and wriggle my fingers under the band. Wrapping my fist around my penis, I start playing with myself. The sensations are fucking good. Listing to my brother groan across the far side of the bedroom sends me higher and higher in a light warmness. With my free hand, I rub my bare tummy in contentment while wandering south until both hands are in my boxers. One hand is encasing my dick, the other fondling the underside of my hairless balls. The yanking sound from Jackson gradually increases in speed, also friction for the rusting of the blankets. His moans quickly turn to a groan, and then the gradual acceleration of his frantic jerking motion slows as I hear my brother come. The sound is so hot, a signal misfires in my head and sends me over the top. Suddenly wetness is presented in my underwear, and a flush of warmth overcomes me as I have to force myself to slow down otherwise the sensation will be too powerful that I might pass out. The room grew still as we both recovered for a moment, then I removed my hand from my underwear. My hand feels clammy from the ejaculate. I withdraw the damp boxers and wipe my sticky fingers in the fabric before pushing them in a scrunched-up ball under my pillow. Nothing else was heard for awhile until the creak of bedsprings told me Jackson was getting out of his bed in the dark. A couple seconds later, Jackson patted the side of my face in confusion while tugging at the comforter. "Move over," Jackson whispered. Doing as I am told, I scooch over in the bed, and my brother crawled in beside me. Jackson rummaged around a time and then twisted on his side. I know what this is I recollect. Turning on my side, I then back my way into my brothers embrace and accept his tenderness. The soft skin on skin contact brushes my hide. Jackson's soft breaths tickle the back of my neck, and his deflating erection pokes the lower portion of my back. Both of us release a sigh of contentment, and I again shut my eyes to let sleep take me. Jackson followed suit by draping his arm over my torso and keeping me tight. "Night," I murmur into the darkness. "Night," the soft sounding voice returned. -------------------- To Be Continued... You can send feedback to thatwriterguy1@outlook.com