Date: Mon, 5 Jun 2023 23:07:45 +0000 From: Bill Drake Subject: The Sullivan Curse The Sullivan Curse Bill Drake (billdrake@hotmail.com) NOTE: The following is for adults only. It contains depiction of sexual acts between men who are related. If this offends you or is inappropriate for you to read, go no further. Please support the Nifty Archive, so they continue the great work they do. THE SULLIVAN CURSE by Bill Drake It was supposed to be only until Travis got back on his feet, but I didn't mind. I had a bigger house than a divorced man could make use of, and truth be told I relished the company of my little brother living with me. Only Travis wasn't little any more. He'd been a stand-out offensive lineman in college, good enough to get drafted onto a pro team, where he played for three years until injuries and a heart scare had him retiring. I wasn't a small guy and had a healthy build on my 6'4" frame, but Travis was taller and bigger than me. At over 310 pounds for his 6'6" body, my brother was real fucking big, like a tank. He'd gotten the nickname Steamroller in college, and it was easy to see why. I hadn't been super close to my little brother. I mean I admired him and loved him, like a brother does. I watched his career from afar and enjoyed when me and my parents were able to go to one of his games. I bragged about him to friends and colleagues. But the early retirement hit Travis hard. Football was his life and his identity. Now he had blown out knees and a sore rib and no money. O-line players don't get a huge paycheck at first, and Travis had blown through a lot from the moment of his signing. I offered to let him move out to Denver to live with me. I made it like he was doing me a favor, and that wasn't far from the truth. I was doing OK after the divorce, but I'd become a homebody and more than a little lonely. It took him six months to get out his funk and start looking for a job. Planning for a new career would come next, but baby steps. But he was a great housemate, doing the shopping, cooking meals for me. I had to laugh at how huge his meals were, but Travis inspired me to hit the gym more and bulk up a little myself. We were guarded at first. Giving each other plenty of space. Brothers figuring out how to be friends, too. But I started to look forward to Friday night guy time. Just me and Travis. He'd gotten me into tequila and while we didn't go wild, it was fun as hell to kick back and get a little buzzed sipping some good stuff. "So Travis," I started, posing the question that had been on my mind. "When are you gonna get back on the dating scene? You know you're always welcome to have company over." "Thanks, bro," he said with a glint of that youthful little bro I always knew in his expression. "I guess I find it hard with women." "Is it the ex-pro thing?" I pressed. It had taken a while for me to be that honest with him, but I knew his lost glory was a real sore point for Travis. I wanted him to be able to talk about that shit. He shook his head. "More basic than that," he said. "I'm afraid I got the Sullivan curse." I laughed. It's what Dad had mentioned in the birds and the bees talk. How to go through life if you have a really thick tool. How women might be intimidated by it. "You too, huh?" He shrugged. "I won't say all chicks are put off by it, but maybe 9 out of 10 are." "Whoa," I said, sympathetic, though I'd never faced anything like that. Maybe I was lucky, my ex was OK with my girth. I'd have to go long on the foreplay and go slow, but Renee would get into being filled up, and then more. Only if I was that lucky, I wouldn't be divorced. "What about you, bro?" Travis shot back at me. "I haven't seen a women here since I moved in. It seems like I'm the one cramping your style." "You're not cramping anything," I assured him. I took a swig of tequila. Liquid courage. "Can I be honest, bro... there's a reason Renee and I got divorced." "I always assumed there was a reason," he said, then interrupted himself. "But you're trying to tell me something." I nodded. "Travis, I think I'm more into dudes." I blushed red, feeling nervous as hell. I didn't care too much what the world thought, but I cared a hell of a lot what my brother did. His reaction surprised me. He leaned back and spread his legs. Even in his XXL shirt, he seemed to fill out his clothes. "That should work out well for you, Kyle," he deadpanned. "With guys the Sullivan curse is usually more of a blessing." My jaw must have dropped because Travis laughed at my reaction. "Let's just say I've had my fun with groupies." He gestured down to his big body. "Turns out they're REAL into this." I shook my head. "Maybe I need to be taking pointers from you," I said sardonically. "You're into women, though, right?" I couldn't picture my big bruiser ex-jock brother as anything other than heterosexual. "I'm into sex, period," he answered, still enjoying the fact his admission shocked me. "I don't see myself getting into anything serious with a dude, though." Travis got serious, all of a sudden. "So, for real, Kyle... you're gay, man?" I nodded. "Not 100% but I've been with a couple of guys and... I dunno, it feels weird talking about this with you." "You don't gotta," Travis said, but looking at me with trusting eyes. "Well, it just feels right with them. Sexually at least," I added blushing as I admitted it. "Romantically, I'm still figuring that shit out." "Kyle... man, you just got out of a messy-ass divorce. Give yourself some breathing room." "I feel I'm the one who's usually giving the pep talk," I smirked, maybe feeling defensive. "You are," Travis said. "But it's nice to return the favor once in a while, even if I am eight years younger than you." "Well, I appreciate it," I said. "Seriously." *** That cleared the air between us, a lot. It wasn't a drastic change, but a couple weeks later, Travis had a hookup over. Some guy off Grindr or whatever app he decided to use. It felt awkward, but mostly I was jealous my ex-NFL-er brother was getting laid and I wasn't. I gave my little brother his privacy and went about updating my profile. The next night, I scored... my first hookup in a solid year and a half. Well overdue. Even Travis made a sly comment about my mood being better. The escalation was slow, but it was like there was a silent competition between us. I probably had guys over more than him, but either way, it became less awkward. Travis went on a couple of dates, but those women never went anywhere serious. Maybe because he was getting his needs taken care of by ready dudes. For my part, Travis's laid back, sow-your-oats mentality was rubbing off on me. I wasn't ready to date seriously, and I enjoyed exploring gay sex and learning what I liked. Turns out I was in to muscle bears, or at least men with a little more meat on them than me. Maybe it was an opposites attract kind of thing. Or maybe the muscle bears I hooked up with were just horny guys. The sex was more often than not physical and very hot. I loved it, and realized it was just what I was missing over my younger years. If I had a type, I was surprised to see the men who came over for Travis. Not a deadringer for me, always, but usually my younger brother lined up corporate types. Fit, straight or straight-acting guys, regular looking guys. I don't know if Travis stopped holding back but the noises from the bedroom seemed to get louder, and those men came out with a flushed, almost embarrassed look. We were crossing some lines, sure, or at least tiptoeing right up to them. Travis had a pretty good job but was making no indication of moving out soon, and I wasn't expecting him to. I might not be the man most in touch with himself, but I wasn't dumb. I knew I was attracted to my younger brother and more than a little fixated on his sexual life. It might have been just that, a steady boil simmering deep in my psyche, only one Saturday night, we got hit with a blizzard. Denver is no stranger to snow, of course, but this was one of those crippling storms. We were stocked up on food, which was good, because it was pretty sure thing the roads would be closed. Travis kept checking the weather and looking outside. Of the two of us, he was the warm blooded one and he'd generally walk around the place half naked, even in winter. That evening was no exception, and he wore only a pair of sweatpants on his burly body. Finally, he checked his phone for the thirtieth time. "Motherfuck!" my brother exclaimed. "What?" I asked, walking in from the kitchen, figuring something was wrong. Travis laughed at his own outburst. "My Grindr guy for the night called it off. Talk about major blue balls." I stopped in my tracks. There was Travis, all 6'6" of the Steamroller, standing there with a hardon tenting up his sweats. He was big and beefy and horny and I'd never felt more turned on in my life. Time stopped. Then, quietly, my brother spoke up. "You know, Kyle, I wouldn't judge you." "Damnit, Travis," I muttered. This was getting intense, and intensely real, fast. He didn't let me off easy though. "You want me, don't you?" I could barely look him in the eyes, but I did. Every bit of him looked older than 27 except for those puppy dog brown eyes. "Sorry," I replied, which was as close to yes as I could get out of my mouth. He said nothing about wanting me, and I wish he did. He just stepped toward me, hardon first seemingly. Arms parted some, welcoming. "Come on, Kyle, it'll be fun." I stepped into his embrace. His body was soft and hard and the fur felt warm. God, with his size he seemed to envelop me body and soul. We held each other and had our first kiss. Then another. Making our with my little brother, who wasn't little any more. I felt that heavy club of Sullivan cock against my belly as my own nudged against his crotch. Slowly, he walked me back, toward the hallway, toward his room. I let him. I thought the mattress would give way from our combined weight. As it was, feeling the Steamroller on top of me was an intense feeling, like it was squeezing the air out of me. But I loved it. Travis was like two of my muscle bear hookups rolled into one. More man that I'd ever been with. We writhed against one another and kissed and then stripped naked and writhed against each other some more. I was leaking like crazy. Travis probably was too. Finally he lifted himself up, and I gasped. The ol' Sullivan curse was on full display, big and hard. Only Travis was even thicker than me. "Beer can" gets tossed out a lot to describe a fat cock, and mine had been called that. Travis's dick really matched, exceeded even, the roundness of a real beer can. It wasn't overly long, maybe a hair shy of six inches, but the stalk was round and heavy and two big hairy balls clung to the base. I knew now why my little brother intimidated women. He intimidated me. Travis didn't get me the chance to get gun shy. With an athletic power, he hoisted my legs up and went down to rim me. The last thing I expected my not-entirely-straight jock of a brother to do. But damn he was good at it - maybe more brute excitement than technique but he had me leaking. The rest was a well-practiced seduction. Travis fingering me. Some soft kisses. "You gonna give up that ass to me, brother?" he asked, as three fingers sawed in and out. I was scared but I wanted it. "Yeah," I answered. The big bruiser scooted around, fumbled in his nightstand and then got in place. He held an open brown bottle to my nose. I don't know where or how Travis learned about poppers. The scent filled my head and made me feel hot inside. "Another, Kyle," he urged. And that did it. Striking while hot, Travis pushed into me. "Fuck!" I yelled. Only it wasn't from pain but the expectation of pain. I was being bored by a double-wide cock. "You got this bro," Travis urged, his puppy dog eyes not steely in sexual heat and determination. "I've heard those other dudes fuck you." It was wild and nasty thing to say. And it made me open for him. My hardon had flagged but in every other way I felt alive and sexual as Travis's megafat tool bottomed out in me. He grinned and reached for the poppers again. I hated how I sucked them down, but this went beyond my experience and expectations of what a cock could feel like. Once I was feeling a new plateau of rush, Travis started fucking. Hard heavy strokes. He leaned forward and made out with me as he pounded that battering ram in slow hard thrusts. The physicality and the feel of all that beefy muscle covering me made me hard. Rock hard. "UMMMGG" my brother hissed into our kiss as he started coming. I didn't even need to touch myself, that beer can dong plowed my load right out of me, right between our heaving bodies. I felt lightheaded, from the poppers but also the orgasm. I'd never felt anything that powerful, with man or woman. Travis seemed to sense it as he slowly pulled out and lay beside me. "THAT's how you should feel every time, Kyle," he said simply, a proud look on his face as he scooted up to lie against the headboard. "Jesus, Travis," I hissed, words finally coming back to me. Then fuck, it just hit me. I couldn't even explain why but tears started coming out. Not sobs, but I was fucking crying, in front of my little brother. Travis gave me a loving look and pulled me to him. Into his big Steamroller bulk. I cried it out and never felt safer or more secure. I was embarrassed as hell after, but Travis just patted my back and said simply. "I loved that too, Kyle.... any time you need that, your bro Travis is here, OK?" I just nodded into his big chest, feeling our breathing sync up. **** The next morning I woke up in Travis's empty bed. I expected to feel bad in the sober light of day, and for sure my asshole felt sore and battered. But my only concern was if my brother was freaked out. I found my clothes and slipped them on. There Travis was in the kitchen, all 320 pounds of him, making breakfast for eight, even if it was just us two men. He was naked and beautiful, and I had a sudden fear my brother's jock body would spoil me for other men. "Morning, Kyle," he greeted, leaning into kiss me. "Figured you could use a real breakfast after all the sex last night." "I don't know where to start," I said. Travis looked at me with a knowing look. As he slid a coffee mug toward me he said. "You freaking out about the brother thing?" "Not really," I said. "But it's weird as fuck." "That it is, bro," he said. I had a better view of his front now, the girth, the hairness and that fat soft dong. "Sorry for crying last night," I said, feeling like I was the brother eight years younger. "It was intense, Kyle," Travis said. God I was crazy about the guy, for the way he'd matured the last few years. "Physically too," I added. He looked at me and that cocky grin came back. "You liked it though, right?" "The Sullivan curse?" I clarified. "Yeah, Kyle. The Sullivan curse." Those brown eyes now looking at me intently. "Yeah Travis. I fucking loved it." That made him smile. He leaned in for another kiss, a little more tongue this time. When he pulled back he had an impish look on his face. "All right, let me scramble these eggs. We'll play some more after breakfast."