Date: Mon, 12 Apr 2004 00:04:51 +0100 From: J Smith Subject: Saturday Morning The usual warnings: this is pornography, written specifically for the purposes of private masturbation. Don't read it if you are too young or likely to be offended by descriptions of guys getting it on. jsmith381@hotmail.com ********* SATURDAY MORNING During a regular week, after school was usually a good time. Andy didn't always stick to the best times, but on the whole he preferred it if he didn't have to worry too much about being disturbed. True, there were always those occasions when he was so damn horny he had to take a few more risks. Usually he managed to get his half hour or so alone each day - vital when you were 15 and shared a room - straight after school, but the weekends could sometimes be a bit more tricky. Like today. It was Saturday morning, and he'd woken up with his usual painfully hard throbber. To add to Andy's frustrations, once a day had lately become barely sufficient at keeping his horn levels low enough to function normally, and for the previous couple of days he'd not really stolen enough private time to keep his hormones in check. That Saturday morning, his dick felt like if it got any harder it could snap, or explode, or perhaps both. His hand gripped it, super-tight, under the covers. Marty, his 17-year old brother, was still asleep, and Andy did not really like pulling one off while Marty was around. Sometimes it was unavoidable, but Andy was not usually an exhibitionist. Jacking was a private pleasure, and Andy had two humiliating memories of occasions when Marty had caught him in the act. Another complication was that Marty really did something for Andy. That tight chest and low-swinging packet... wow! That was definitely a secret that needed keeping. Despite his brother's silent and still body only feet away, Andy started a slow wrist action in his pyjama bottoms that was not audible or visible, and was at least a start on a full wank. His eyes closed in relaxation and his mind wandered back to his favourite fantasy of the moment. The new German boy in his class was pretty much the stuff Andy's wet dreams were made of, or rather they would be made of that kind of stuff if Andy didn't masturbate far far too much for there to be anything spare to leak out at night. Jurgen was taller than most of the boys in Andy's year, and had truly beautiful hair. Andy could stare at it for whole lessons, and frequently did, trying hard not to be seen doing so. It was on the blond side of light brown and curled round his ears and neck in a way that definitely made him cute; it framed his strong but pretty Germanic face and topped his tall elegant body. Under the shirt Andy knew was a pair of large brown nipples that sat on a clean flawless chest, the only one in the class to have even a hint of hair on it. The first time Andy had seen the blond fuzz on the 15-year old body, when the whole class was showering after gym, he had gawked at it for about ten seconds, then gone straight to a loo cubicle, locked the door and shot a load in under a minute. That had also happened the first time Andy saw Jurgen's perfect tight ass, and yet again when he had seen Jurgen drop his towel and step into a pair of black boxers. Jurgen's neat, plump cock had been adorned by a smartly trimmed bush of lightest brown pubes, was noticeably fatter at his bellend where a neat skinflap covered his helmet, and sat over a hefty pair of balls. Andy knew instinctively this set-up would reach eight inches. Not that Andy would ever himself get to sample it, as Jurgen had already had three girlfriends in the month since he'd joined the school. But it didn't stop Andy imagining that one day Jurgen might get a bit desperate for some release, come up to Andy after gym and suggest they take a long warm shower together, at which point Andy would drop to his knees and selflessly help Jurgen to an orgasm by chewing on his fat German rod till it spewed hot boyjuice all over Andy's face and down his-- "Hey dickhead, leave your cock alone while I'm in the room. Fuck, it's like sharing with an ape. Can't you control it even for a little while?" Andy cringed as he realised his jacking had started rustling the covers and had woken Marty. Marty enjoyed teasing Andy and generally didn't mean anything by it but Andy wasn't to know that. Marty threw back the covers and walked, naked, over to Andy's bed. His own morning boner was bouncing as he walked. Andy wanted to stare at it then swallow it whole, but he felt he could look for no more than a fraction of a second. As he stood over his little brother, Marty flicked his hand painfully over Andy's hard dick under the covers, and Andy yelped. "Leave it alone, bro, it's just a spazzy little cock," laughed Marty again, then turned his back to Andy and bent over as he stepped into some shorts before going to the bathroom. "When you get one like this, I give you permission to yank it as much as you want," he said, turning again and cupping his hard shaft through the soft cotton. He laughed as he went out the room, his morning glory shamelessly tenting his slinky white boxerbriefs. The image of Marty's hard erection and then of his ass bent over as he looked for some boxers nearly finished Andy off. Oh fuck. He could never let Marty know how hot Andy found him. His hand gripped his bone harder, but something stopped him throwing back the covers and finishing off in a frenzy. Andy knew it was Marty himself. Andy didn't like to wank around Marty - even though Marty didn't really care and did it himself often enough - just in case Marty ever got suspicious that Andy was actually perving on his own big brother. And God, did he perv when he got the chance. Andy's favourite wanks were the ones when Marty was still at school on a day when his brother hadn't been to the gym. This invariably meant that Marty's gym gear was on the radiator in their room, waiting to be stuffed into a bag for the next time. Marty went to the gym four or five times a week, so the gear was often not available, but that did mean that when it was all sitting there, innocently waiting for another outing, it was certainly worth closer investigation. Marty never, ever put his gym stuff out for laundry. He just took it out the bag and put it on the radiator to dry it off. As the term wore on, it got sweatier and sweatier, and the nightly sessions drying on the radiator just fixed his masculinity right into the fabric, practically cooking his clothes. The muscle shirt was always Andy's first pleasure. Dark blue, but with many dried white sweat marks on the chest and back, lifting it to his nose made Andy's bone throb with an intense desire. Often Andy put the shirt on after sucking on the underarm hem so he could feel the sensation of his brother's sweaty masculinity hugging his torso as he jacked viciously, frantically imagining the filthiest things he could do to his brother. Andy didn't yet realise the appeal of socks so he left those alone, but the prize was the skimpy green Jockey pouch that contained his brother's genitals during his energetic workouts. The first whiff of the fabric - warm from the radiator, completely infused with the rich personal, funky aroma of weeks and weeks of his brother's nutsac and dickshaft hefting and rolling in that small pouch, all the sweat and drips of piss and secretions of precum, all baked into the green cotton - just the first whiff sent Andy's already dripping cock into erection superstardom: the hardest, stiffest boner a boy ever had. Subsequent deep snorts with his nose and mouth buried in the pouch made him so heady he had once passed out. If Andy let himself reach orgasm snorting the Jockeys, he sometimes started sucking at the fabric, even venturing his tongue down to the place that rubbed against Marty's teenage boyhole, which was completely dizzying with the smell of - Andy wasn't sure what. The smell of ass? Or the smell of shit? Or the purest, most concentrated essence of masculinity? Or, more personally, just the smell of the darkest, sweatiest, rankest place to be found anywhere on his brother's out-of-this-world fucking sexy body? Thank God Marty never thought to put his gym gear out to laundry, and that the moron just thought to dry them was enough to be able to wear them again. Long may it continue, thought Andy, furiously fisting his dick under the covers, as he stared at the green dick pouch on the radiator in their room. Since he last got his hands on it, Marty had been through four more workouts. It must smell unbelievable. Andy tried hard to remember the smell last time he had been frenziedly snorting the fabric as if his life depended on it. Yeah! Oh my god, thought Andy. He is so hot! I wanna get my tongue right under his foreskin and lick out the-- "Still at it, small boy?" crowed Marty as he came back into the room, hair dripping wet, wearing only a towel round his waist. Andy's eyes closed in a mixture of humiliation and frustration. He stayed quiet. "I think you might have some kind of problem," carried on Marty, semi-sarcastically, as he unhooked his towel and began rubbing it over his chest and thighs, his soft heavy meat swinging with the action of the towel. Obviously Marty had dealt with his own morning boner in the shower. "I mean," he continued as if Andy were actually interested, "I know at your age it's difficult to stop wanking for long enough to eat, but really Andy, you can't even stop yourself for long enough to hold a regular conversation with me..." He laughed aloud. "In fact, you're still doing it now, aren't you, even as I'm trying to talk to you...?" "Fuck off." It was true of course; Andy's hand was still gripping his painful erection. At that point Marty started towelling his hair vigorously, and with his head under the towel, it was safe for Andy to drink in the real glory of his brother's body. Andy stroked fast and hard for the few seconds during which he could stare unchallenged at Marty's chest and dick. He swore he could see a pearl of cum seeping from Marty's dickhead, and Andy imagined himself lovingly tasting such a precious susbstance. Then Andy turned over and faced away as Marty got dressed and pottered about the room. He recalled vividly the one chance he'd had to taste Marty's cum for real. Marty wasn't exactly public about his masturbation; he didn't hide the fact that he did it, but he certainly didn't do it in front of Andy either. But one Sunday morning about six months before, he had had a very noisy and energetic wank in bed while Andy listened, electrified. And when he got close, he'd thrown the covers back and shot up his chest. Andy had watched, unable to hide his amazement at seeing his brother's dick splurge his spunk over his hot tight bod. Andy suspected Marty had been mighty horny the night before and not got anywhere with whichever girl he'd been hunting, because this wank was a long way out of the ordinary for Marty, who generally just took a couple of minutes of quiet grunting and shuffling. And when he'd got his breath back, he'd propped himself up on his elbows, looked over at Andy and said, "chuck us that t-shirt, will you, bro?" And Andy, mesmerised, had done as Marty asked, and then watched as the whole sloppy load of boy cream was mopped up as Marty hastily pushed it round his chest, stomach and bush. Then Marty had thrown the t shirt in the laundry basket, pulled on some clothes and gone clattering downstairs. Before Marty had been out of the room even two seconds, Andy was retrieving the t shirt from the laundry. He ate all his brother's nut juice just by licking the t shirt clean, while fisting himself to an unbelievable climax. The taste of it had been fantastically, terrifyingly sexy, and Andy had trembled with an overdose of wicked excitement as he had gorged himself on the fruit of his brother's loins. Unfortunately Marty had never done anything like that again, even though Andy had kept hoping. Licking the pouch of his brother's green gym Jockeys was as close as he'd got since. Andy's erection pounded with blood as he remembered this. Marty eventually finished dressing and left the room, saying, "Andy, really, leave it alone, or it'll never grow into a real one." Andy could hear Marty laughing as he went down the stairs. Bugger Marty, he thought. He could be back at any time, and Andy seriously wanted some private time to see this orgasm through. He decided to carry on in the shower, where at least he could lock the door, even if Marty knew what he was up to. He got out of bed, his nipples pointing in the sudden chill, and his pyjama trousers looking silly as they tried to contain his good sized dick. Andy flipped the waist band under his balls and looked at his erection in the mirror, holding it tightly at the base so it throbbed thickly. It was a good size for a 15-year old, Andy thought, whatever Marty said. Besides, Marty hadn't seen it hard for a while, and Andy thought he might be surprised to learn that his kid brother now sported a fat seven inch rod, which was just about what Marty had himself, Andy knew. Then with his dick still pulsing, he walked over to the radiator and quickly swooped the warm Jockeys up to his nose. "Oh man..." sighed Andy, as he sniffed deeply and an extraordinary high surged through him. They were stupendously filthy and masculine. The cock pouch gave off a strong odour of unwashed bollocks, of cock, of sweaty bush and yes, a faint hint of spunk too, and then, moving his nose and mouth to the ass gusset, he slobbered hungrily at the patch of ass smells - fruity, dank, fetid. Andy nearly keeled over with the sensation. Then he took a deep breath and put the Jockeys back on the radiator. It was far too risky to carry on with Marty actually in the house. He picked up his brother's damp towel from earlier, and held it in front of his bulging boyhood as he went to the bathroom. Andy generally didn't like wanking in the shower. He didn't like doing it standing up, and he didn't like doing it with a wet hand and dick, even with soap. True, the massage of the water on his shoulders was sensual, but that didn't make up for what he disliked. So he set the shower running to cover any noise, then stepped out of his PJ bottoms and sat down on the loo, naked, legs widely spread. He liked this position because it was far easier to play with his boyhole than when he was lying in bed. His ass had been the latest discovery in his sexual self. When Andy had first started wanking and filling his head with all sorts of images and fantasies of other boys' bodies, he had mainly been concerned with dick. Big dicks had been favourite, and he had scoured the net on his laptop for pics of young lads with big boners. Andy liked to imagine sucking one of them, or indeed actually owning such a 9 or 10 inch monster, and then having someone he knew (and had the hots for) suck it expertly, swallowing fully, naturally. But this had only really been the beginning. After that he had been obsessed with cumshots; first of all huge, copious, unreal loads, then actually seeing the moment when the spunk shot forth. And then he'd quickly switched his attention to watching the guy's faces at the very moment they unloaded their cream. Andy realised that when he found a pic that got his juices flowing in this respect, it was the cuteness of the guy's orgasmic face that did it for him, and not the size of the dick. That was his first adult realisation. After that, he could jack off explosively even just to a pic of a guy taking his shirt off and revealing a pair of tight pecs and a sexy smile. At no point in his first couple of years of wanking did anal sex ever get even a tiny feature in his fantasies. Andy knew that guys did it, but felt that it wouldn't ever be for him. Then Andy had started reading erotic stories on the net. One of them described in astonishing detail the first time a young lad, his age, had taken a dick up his ass. The story was so compellingly sexy that Andy had sat back and wondered properly and objectively what the whole deal with assholes could be. The next time he wanked, he started playing with his hole, with astounding results. His cock got so hard, his orgasm was so intense, his cum shot so thick and powerful. It left him weak, shattered, in a muzzy haze of spunk and desire. Within weeks Andy was poking his hole with fingers, slim vegetables, candles, and anything else that he thought he could safely use. And when the day came that, wanking furiously on his bed with a greased and warmed courgette up his ass, he had suddenly thought to couple the strong physical buzz with the mental image of one of the rugby studs at school firmly sliding his large fat schlong in and out of Andy's own boyhole, well... he had hit the ceiling. Andy knew that day he'd found his ultimate turn-on. Looking at a pic of a guy with a hardon, and imagining its suitability for filling his own ass up. And it had been the same cock, which in his fantasies belonged to a guy at school called Ivan, who was a tall, extraordinarily sexy guy, muscly, attractive and masculine, and a member of the school's successful rugby team, which he kept coming back to in his wank dreams as the perfect guy to lose his virginity to. Although, if Andy actually counted up the number of wanks he'd had when he'd imagined Ivan relentlessly drilling his little hole, then it could scarcely be called virgin. That morning sitting on the loo, with the shower hissing unused on the other side of the bathroom, Andy saw in his head Ivan picking him up from school in his flash car, kissing him deeply and saying, hey kid, lets go fuck. As Andy's mind ran through this familiar yet scorching scenario, one hand slowly fisted his solid, aching boner, and the other probed his tight little twat. He reached for some shower gel, slicked his fingers, then slid two inside, spreading his legs like an eager whore. Oh yeah! Andy felt like a true adult gay man when in such a position. True, beyond a couple of wank sessions with his friend Paul and sometimes a couple of others, Andy was a virgin; but simply knowing about the power of an anal orgasm felt like it might give Andy an adult view on sexuality. One day, he knew, he would meet a guy who he liked, and they would fuck. Andy hoped it wasn't going to be too far off, but until it happened, the closest he could get was a couple of his own fingers and a mental image of Ivan. Ivan, in fact, even only in imagination, was a superb substitute for the real thing. As Andy fisted and frigged himself on the loo that Saturday morning, he smiled as he saw Ivan pull his car into a sunny but secluded woodland spot. Andy had been bone hard since Ivan had picked him up from school right in front of all the other boys (who were of course all secretly jealous). Ivan turned the engine off and turned to Andy, smiling his outrageously sexy smile. As Ivan unbuttoned his shirt, he said, "Andy, baby, you are the hottest boy in school. Now get your clothes off quick as." Andy giggled as he lifted his jersey over his head, and had to ask for Ivan's help to wriggle out of his trousers in such a confined space. Ivan loved Andy's body. He kissed and licked him delicately, his nipples and his stomach, his neck and his ears, then, after lots of lovely naked snuggling and tonguing, Ivan started to suck his young lover's cock and balls. Andy moved up a level in arousal, and his hole started to itch. Ivan always knew when Andy's little pucker started to feel sexy. He sucked harder on Andy's dick, while he pushed his hand between his legs and let a couple of saliva-slicked fingers rub over the tight muscle. Andy opened his legs and groaned in appreciation. Ivan was such a talented, sensitive lover. He gently opened up Andy with one then two fingers, and began to synchronise his fingers with his sucking. Andy was in heaven. Then, as always, there came a moment when Ivan switched from attentive and caring to masculine and demanding. Within seconds, Ivan had stopped his attentions to Andy and urged him through to the back seat of the car. Andy scrabbled through, excited and naked, and got in the position Ivan liked him best: on his back with his legs up round his ears, pulling his boycheeks apart and letting his little ring pulse in expectation. Ivan winked and said, "that's my boy" as he shucked his boxers and let his long hard meat swing into play. Ivan edged through the seats and knelt at Andy's rear end, letting his heavy man dick bounce along Andy's hairless crack. He let a great gob of spit land plum on his bellend then slicked it down to his bush. Then, without any more ceremony, he slid it slowly but strongly into Andy's gut. Unngghhh! Andy panted at the invasion, but loved it. It took him a few seconds to get used to it, but then he gave Ivan their usual sign, and Ivan began to shag. Once they got to this point, Andy let himself revel in the sheer fantastic wonder of being gay. He encouraged Ivan to take him as forcefully as he wanted, wrapping his arms and legs around Ivan's torso, squeezing and contracting his fresh, young anal walls, energetically trying to hold Ivan's solid, pumping fuck rod inside his teen hole. But Ivan could always fuck harder than Andy could squeeze, even though they often sniggered at the competition. Ivan got to the stage when his balls slapped noisily against Andy's cheeks, and then they moved in for a snog. This kissing was the ultimate for Andy: he loved Ivan's dick, but he also loved Ivan himself a bit as well, and to feel Ivan's tongue fluttering round his mouth as his oversized sportscock stretched and strained his eager young hole, it sent Andy's heartrate-- "Andrew! What on earth are you doing in there?" shouted his mum from the other side of the bathroom door. "Hurry up and finish, your sister wants the loo!" Andy despaired and nearly cried in frustration. A massive orgasm had been boiling in his guts somewhere. Now the sound of his mother's voice made it sink without trace. He tried to carry on blindly, desperately, but the image of Ivan was gone and his fingers were just hurting his ass. Cursing furiously, he jumped quickly into the shower, which had run cold by now. Two minutes later, he stood shivering in a towel back in his bedroom, hair dripping, nipples painfully erect due to the cold water. His cock still felt hot though, and he could not leave this orgasm where it was. It had to be brought to fruition, or his day would be intolerable. But he had run out of options now, and could hardly ask his family to leave him alone for a few minutes while he dealt with the business of being a teenager. Marty, for the moment, was out of the room, and he would have to take his chance. It was risky, but he absolutely couldn't leave things the way they were. Andy shed the towel and sat down naked on his bed. He liked this bed, as in it he had his first ever wank age about 11, and about 98% of all the others since. The other reason he liked this bed was that, completely unknown to Marty, Andy's first sexual experience had taken place on it the previous year. Paul had always been a good friend to Andy, and even though Andy had never told him he was gay, he thought Paul sensed this somehow, and didn't care much. Scotty and Chaz were more friends of Paul's than Andy's, but they'd been there that day too, and all in all it was a highly erotic memory. Paul and Andy had never spoken much about wanking, beyond a couple of regular boyish jokes. So when the four of them were all lounging round Andy's room one afternoon after school, Andy was really surprised when out of the blue, Paul said, "Fuck I'm so horny; I usually have a long wank straight after school - looks like I'm going to have to wait till tonight to deal with this baby" and Andy looked, and saw Paul shaping his trousers around a hardon clearly visible in his crotch. Scotty then smiled and said, "not necessarily Paulie mate, not if we are all agreeable to some semi-public jackage." And even before Andy or Chaz had said anything, Scotty had stood up and started unbuckling. "What you reckon, guys?" he asked seriously, pushing his trousers down. "No problems, yeah? Andy, got any porn?" Andy didn't have any porn with girls in, and his gay porn was securely hidden on his laptop, but he knew where Marty kept his, so he delved into his brother's secret mag stash and tossed a couple of nasty straight wank mags onto his bed. By this time the other three had all decided this group wank could go ahead; Scotty was already shirtless and pawing at his full boxerbulge, and Chaz was untying his shoes while trying to flick through the mags. Andy was both incredibly nervous and amazingly horny. "You ok with this, Andy?" asked Paul, quietly, smiling supportively. And as Paul asked the question, he dropped his school trousers and revealed a pair of skimpy whites with one bollock hanging out the left leg. Andy was still fully dressed, when Scotty said, "underwear on or off guys? What do you reckon?" and Andy did not want to look like a total prude, so he started undressing swiftly. "Might as well be undies off if we actually wanna proper wank," said Andy, surprising himself, and he was the first to shed his boxers, standing in front of them all wearing only his socks, proudly showing his own (at that time) 6 inch, bone-hard dick. "Hey Andy, congrats, mate, very decent dick there," said Chaz matter-of-factly as he revealed a much smaller cock than Andy's. Scotty had a nice plump one, and Paul had one similar to Chaz, and suddenly Andy realised that he himself had a big dick. They settled naturally into two pairs: Scotty and Chaz jacked while they looked through a tit mag on Marty's bed, and Paul and Andy looked through some Euro hardcore on Andy's own bed. In fact Andy wasn't looking at the porn at all, as the other dicks in his room were far more interesting to him. With it being a public arena, Andy guessed it was ok to have a look or two, especially as he was hiding nothing himself. He and Paul giggled a bit as they watched each other, and then when Andy looked back over to Scotty and Chaz, his heart nearly stopped. They were wanking each other, still looking through the mag, but definitely fisting each other's dicks! Paul smiled and said, "they do it all the time. Wanna try?" Fucking hell, of course Andy wanted to try! - especially if it meant he could get some dick without having to reveal he was a raging homo. Within seconds he and Paul held each other's dicks, and Paul was wittering on about how fat and big it felt. Andy knew he was rubbish at wanking Paul off, but it was just so damn hot he didn't care. Pretty soon he realised that none of the four of them were looking at any porn, but were all staring at each other's dicks, and something in Andy clicked at this sensation: he took his hand back from Paul's cock and began to jack himself again, this time sitting on the bed with his legs spread wide, his left hand teasing his balls and nipples, even slightly toying with his secret boy muscle. He wanted the others to see what a great wanker he was, and how well he understood his own body and his large dick. Scotty and Chaz were transfixed, and they both took charge of their own cocks again, staring at Andy's firm young body and beautiful penis. Andy loved the attention. Paul looked over proudly: Andy was his friend, and he'd been sure Andy would go all the way when Scotty and Chaz had suggested getting Andy involved in their group fun, but Paul had no idea that Andy was such a hung little hottie under his school uniform. Andy groaned and pulled faster, knowing he was going to shoot soon, but not wanting to pop off first. He needn't have worried: just as he was thinking that, Chaz gave a huge groan and cried "oh man, I'm gonna shoot..." and Andy stared as a hot little load splashed onto his stomach while he was yanking away at high speed. This did something for Scotty, who threw his head back and cried out as he produced a much larger load that released itself in 5 or 6 chunky boyspurts over his chest. That was enough for Andy. Scotty's cumshot was as hot as anything he'd seen on the net, and Andy moved his arm up a gear and let his orgasm trip over the line. He swore and panted, on fire with the imminence of a powerful climax, pulling his balls at the precise moment. A large volley of spunk slashed Andy across his own face, some landing on his lips. He greedily licked it up while his body pumped about a gallon more over his chest and stomach, finally dribbling out the last into his tidy bush. The others were staring, astonished. Andy let their eyes wander over his body, loving the feeling of showing off. "Andy, man, fucking hell..." groaned Paul, who let go his own load over Andy's leg at that point. "Look at how much he shoots!" cried Scotty, getting up and coming over from the other bed for a closer look. And then they each three took it in turns to hold his still hard, spunky dick, while Andy grinned, still tingling from the his orgasm until he closed his eyes and let them all explore his body, until, magically, he felt three eager mouths and tongues scarfing up the chestload of jizz he'd produced for them... At last Andy's young balls pumped out their stuff. He lay back naked on his bed, on the wet towel he and his brother had both used, head back, fist flying, balls churning. He tried to muffle his own cries as a sizeable load at last erupted from his large solid cock, and just like the load he'd produced for his three wank buddies it made a great sexy mess of his stomach and chest. He lay there, panting, swimming in the wonderful feeling of recovering from such a climax. "Finally finished, little bro?" smiled Marty, standing by the door. "Fuck, Marty, how long have you been there?" said Andy, terrified, standing up and trying to wrap the towel round him, and rub the spunk away. "Long enough, Andy, long enough to see how desperate to get off you were, so I thought I'd let you carry on." Andy said nothing; surprised that Marty wasn't teasing him. He carried on, not waiting for Andy to answer. "You've grown up, haven't you...? I hadn't noticed. Next time you get that horny, wake me up, bro. I'm sure we can share a porno or something." His words were serious, intimate. Then he laughed again as he left the room. Andy lay back down and let the towel fall open. He grinned. Wow! A wank with his brother? Could that really happen? His eye caught sight of Marty's gym gear on the radiator, and his cock twitched again at the green Jockeys. "Wonder if I've got time for seconds?" he thought, smiling to himself. ********* If you enjoyed this and would like a list of my other stuff in the Nifty archive, please feel free to email me at jsmith381@hotmail.com