The Little Sneak
by David Heulfryn

 

It was a question that made my brother choke on his tongue.

“What’s puberty like?” I asked him.

He stuttered, unsure how to reply, or I suspect he did not want to answer. “W… what do you mean?”

We would occasionally talk to each other while we lay in our beds, but we rarely spoke these days, he was too busy with his mates, and I was always out, either at my gymnastics club or the swimming and diving club. Only as we lay in bed in our shared bedroom did all the day’s distractions melt away so we could talk.

“Surely, they’ve taught you the facts of life at school?” He asked.

Of course, they had, but I wanted to learn from my big brother. Besides, I was playing with his head. I loved to tease him, and I played the innocent very well. He never could tell. He always considered me his naïve younger brother, but I was now nearly thirteen and in the early stages of puberty, so I knew full well what to expect. But my gullible fourteen-year-old brother didn’t know that.

“You’ll find out soon,” he tried to placate me, “you’ll start to get taller, more muscles, which will help in your gymnastics.”

“And hair,” I added.

“Yes, and hair.” He spoke quietly, embarrassed to admit it.

“I’ve not got any hair.” I giggled, “except on my head.” It was a lie, but he wouldn’t know that.

“You will shortly.”

“I bet you’ve got hair. Why don’t you let me see it? We used to see each other naked all the time. It wasn’t so long back that Mum used to bath us together, and we’d play in the water. That used to be fun, splashing you and trying to get soap in your eyes so you’d whine and pretend to get angry at me.”

“You pillock!” My brother said. “I was angry.” He then said, “pretended to get angry, what a twat”, under his breath

He knew I could hear him.

“It used to sting like hell, you idiot. And I swear Mum bought that shampoo because it stung so much. Has she not heard of ‘No More Tears’ shampoo?”

“But that’s for babies.” I giggled.

“I suppose.” He sighed.

“But why don’t we bath together now? It would save water.”

“Because we’re older. I’m older. We need our privacy.”

“Why?”

“We just do.” He said firmly.

“But you shower after rugby practice with all the other boys. What’s the difference.” I loved playing naïve. “If you can wash with them, why can’t you wash with me like we used to? It’ll be fun. We can splash each other again.”

“It’s different; we’re all a similar age, we have all…” he stopped himself but had no other way of finishing the sentence, “gone through puberty.”

“Oh, that’s bloody great. You’ll let some strangers and kids you hardly know see your hairs, but you won’t let your little brother. So that’s how much I mean to you.” I sounded indignant.

“Look. Please try to understand. You will when you’re older, give it a year, then you’ll be in the middle of puberty, you’ll have hairs and other things.” He shifted in his bed again and sounded embarrassed.

“Okay, but I’m scared.” I sniffed, pretending to hold back some fake tears.

I heard my brother shift in his bed, I couldn’t see him, but I knew he’d turned on his side to look over to my side of the room.

“What of?” He sounded genuinely concerned.

I reminded him of what happened about a year ago when I got these awful pains in my feet and legs, how the pain would make me cry at night, and how Mum tried to massage the pain away, but nothing worked. Even Calpol didn’t take the edge off the pain.

“I remember,” he signed. “I never got any sleep for weeks with you snivelling in bed, then when I could finally get to sleep, you’d howl in agony and wake me up.”

“Growing pains, Mum called them,” I told him. “Well, what if I get them again?”

“You’re older now. I’m sure Mum can give you better painkillers. But I don’t really think you will. I never did.”

“You never had them when you were my age either.” I pouted. “So, how would you know?”

He sighed, a heavy sigh, so I knew he meant for me to hear it. “I don’t. But I really think those days are over. You haven’t had any for over a year.”

“True.” I paused. “But…” I hesitated for dramatic effect, “they’ve told us that our willies will get bigger. And can almost double in size when we have sex.”

I heard choking again from the other side of the room, and my brother stifled his chuckles.

“Who the fuck told you that?”

“Teacher.”

My brother shifted in his bed, uncomfortable with my new line of questioning.

“If my willie is going to double in size, that’s going to hurt. I’m scared it’s going to hurt real bad.”

“It doesn’t.” My brother said flatly.

“How do you know?” I tried to sound like I was holding back tears.

“Trust me.”

“I wish I did.” I sniffed.

“In fact, it can feel good when it gets bigger and harder. That’s how to make babies. They must have told you that?”

“Oh, yes.” I lied. “But I don’t really understand.”

My brother chuckled to himself. “The man puts his willie in the woman and leaves his seed behind. That’s how a baby is made. So, in fact, you came out of Dad’s willie.”

“That must have hurt.” I joked.

We both burst out laughing louder than we wished. It caught the ears of those downstairs.

“Get to sleep, boys.” Our Dad yelled up the stairs. “It’s late, and you have school tomorrow.”

We called down, and I pulled my duvet under my chin, snuggling in to get some sleep.

“G’night, Max,” I whispered.

“G’night, Min.” My brother responded. Only my brother called me ‘Min’.

 

When I got home from school that afternoon, I was greeted by our next-door neighbour’s two young boys. The identical twins were only nine, and I still couldn’t tell them apart.

“Finn… Finn.” They squeaked in unison.

I thought they would run over and hug me, but they just wanted my help. They’d been playing in their back garden and had kicked their football onto our kitchen roof.

I smiled when they told me, as I knew this was part of their game. The twins knew I was a gymnast and loved watching me strut my stuff. And I loved showing off to them. I would climb trees, swing from branches, flip over and land on my feet. They’d watch as I climb the side of the house, leap from windowsill to drainpipe, and perhaps back down to the patio with a flourish. Sometimes they’d tell me I was like a cat, sometimes a squirrel; my body was slight and nimble enough to do most things.

Several years ago, our kitchen was extended into the garden, and the single-storey extension created a flat roof under the bedroom Max and I shared. Mum often yelled at me when she heard my feet on the kitchen roof and watched as I jumped down. ‘Use the stairs,’ she used to admonish me, but never seriously, as I never really got into trouble.

“Please.” They begged, again in unison. Those boys seemed to do and say everything together.

“Okay.” I went round the back and dumped my bag on the patio. I slipped my blazer off and placed it on top of my bag. I considered taking my tie off, but the twins were anxious to watch me retrieve their ball.

In a swift motion, I leapt onto the window and, using my fingertips and toes, pulled myself up the side of the house using the small gap between the bricks.

“Just like Spiderman.” I heard one twin whisper to the other.”

I grabbed their football and kicked it back into their garden. The twins squealed and ran back to continue their kickabout. I now stood on our kitchen roof with no audience.

As I glanced around, I noticed our bedroom curtains were drawn. I thought this strange as no one was supposed to be home. I wondered if Max had come home early, even though it was weird for him to close the curtains mid-afternoon. Our bedroom light came on. It must be Max.

I grinned as I went to the window, intent on banging on it to scare him, but as I peered inside, my mouth hung open as I saw Max naked.

Max had just come from the shower and was drying himself. As I peered inside our bedroom, I saw him bend over to dry his legs and feet. His arse was pointing straight at me. As he bent over, I watched his rounded cheeks spread, and his pink rosebud came into view.

My nearly thirteen-year-old dick twitched, and I realised I was hard.

My eyes were glued to his exposed arse, his most private place that no one had seen, not even him. I felt special and honoured to see it.

And then he stood back up, his cheeks slowly drew closed, and hid his hole. I felt my dick wane, disappointed the view had changed. But then Max turned around, and I saw his cock for the first time in years.

As Max faced the window, I thought he’d see me, so I ducked lower and sat cross-legged, my eyes just above the lower edge of the window, my view still unobstructed. What I saw soon caused my dick to strain the fly of my school trousers.

Max looked beautiful; a halo of brown hair arched like a rainbow above his cute cock. It looked a good size, probably twice the size of mine. Below swayed two heavy balls, loose from his hot shower, apparently hairless from this distance. I was hypnotised by the swaying of his cock and balls as he brought his towel to his crotch and ensured they were dry. He rubbed them longer than required, and I watched as his cock grew thicker and longer but not yet hard.

My mind suddenly switched from brotherly admiration to brotherly antagonism as he threw his wet towel on my bed.

‘Bastard!’ I muttered under my breath. I wanted to rap on the window and shout at him. But he turned back around, and his plump white arse came back into view, and I remembered the feeling in my dick when I saw his hidden pink hole.

I thought the show was over as I expected Max to get dressed, but he didn’t. He lay down on his bed, raised one arm and rested it behind his head. It had the effect of pushing his head forward so he could easily see all down his body. I could see the small patch of hair in his armpit.

His other arm rested momentarily on his mattress before he raised his hand and grabbed his cock.

I gasped. I dared not hope that I’d get to watch Max pleasure himself. This was better than any sex education you could get at school, watching someone masturbate.

My eyes were glued to his growing cock. It kept getting bigger and bigger, putting my tiny few inches to shame. I could only hope I would grow to be as big as Max.

He gripped his cock and began to slowly stroke it, it was bigger than the width of his hand and his uncut end poked from his closed fist.

I was mesmerised by watching him wank, watching him in another private moment. Watching him as no one else would see him. For that moment, Max had no secrets from me.

Of course, I knew about wanking. The lads in my class would always be bragging about it, though I doubt they were doing it, especially when they would brag that they could come a gallon and shoot several metres. I knew my development was a little behind the others, I was smaller in stature, and despite my gymnastic training, my muscles were still those of a little boy and not a teenager. So watching my big brother gave me something to aspire to, and right now, I wanted his big cock and pubes. The rest of his body looked perfectly smooth, his skin taught against his muscles showing how he liked to keep himself in shape. The only fleshy part of him I had seen was his sweet arse.

I hadn’t considered that there were so many different ways to wank. I knew the basics of wanking, but watching Max showed me that you didn’t have just do it the one way all the time. He switched hands, and his free hand played with his balls and sometimes even his nipple.

Max stopped stroking and pulled down his foreskin. His exposed knob looked shiny and wet. He wiped his knob with a finger, picking up whatever moisture was there. I sat open-mouthed as he sucked on his finger. He then started stroking his cock again, his foreskin still retracted, his knob red and glistening.

His eyes remained glued to his cock and the hand that stroked it. His left hand delved between his legs, fondling his balls, and then he went deeper. I watched as his hips raised and his hand disappeared. Suddenly, Max threw his head back, closed his eyes, and opened his mouth. I imagined the groaning he was making but wondered what had caused it. Surely just shoving your fingers between your legs couldn’t cause that reaction? I didn’t know the pleasures of the arsehole at that point in my life, so this was one mystery that would go unsolved for now.

Max began thrusting his hips, forcing his cock through the hand that gripped it. His other hand seemed to be pushing his hips higher. Was his finger in his hole or just teasing it? I never knew. But Max was now in his own world. I doubt even seeing me at the window would bring him out of it.

I watched as his foreskin kept being pulled down, and his shiny red knob kept coming into view. Surely he wasn’t dribbling pee; that would be disgusting! It was leaking quite badly, and whatever was coming out was dripping down his fingers.

Max was starting to thrash his head from side to side, his eyes crunched tightly shut, his legs began to spread, one foot pushing against the side wall, his other now dangling from his slim single bed. He pumped his arse up and down in concert with his hand. He withdrew the hand underneath him and started to rub his chest; his arse now sunk deeper into his mattress with every thrust.

He pinched his nipples, and I noticed a string of fluid fly from his exposed knob; he ignored it and kept rubbing his nipples.

Then the world stopped. Max ceased his violent thrusting, his eyes still tightly shut, his red knob exposed and flaring.

I sat rooted to the spot as I watched my brother’s thick white cum shoot from his wet knob and fly up his body. Max didn’t move and just let it happen. I sensed nothing from him, not even shallow breath.

His cock calmed and shot less cum which now dribbled down his cock and over his already slimy fingers. Max began to breathe and slowly rubbed his cock to extract more cum.

Fuck! I sighed. That was such a fucking great show. Max’s face looked like he was high, a look of sheer bliss. I couldn’t wait until I could do that. But I’d have to make sure Max wasn’t watching.

I didn’t move, and neither did Max. I just sat and watched him as he recovered from what looked like a fantastic orgasm. I was aghast as he scooped a little up with his finger and sucked it into his mouth. He began to rub his cum into his abdomen, then thought better of it.

What the fuck!

But the initial disgust evaporated, and I felt curious. I wondered what it would taste like. Perhaps when I could cum I would be brave enough to try.

I sensed Max heave, and then he pulled himself off the bed.

He went to my bed and picked up the damp towel he’d dropped on my duvet. I could see his cum glistening on his body and watched as he dried himself with his towel. Afterwards, he dropped the damp towel back on my bed.

Fucker!

Max then turned and grabbed some red briefs from the chest of drawers we shared. He pulled them up his legs and tucked in his still-swollen cock and balls. I’d seen him in his briefs before, but his bulge never looked more prominent and enticing. I loved just looking at and admiring his fleshy bulge.

The show was finally over, and I thought about moving. I was so engrossed in Max and his wanking, I never noticed it had started to rain, my hair was wet, and rivulets of water ran down my face, stinging my eyes. I shook my head, sending the rain trapped in my brown fringe in every direction.

I’d better move. I was getting soaked. I looked at my chest, and my white school shirt had become transparent; my dark red nipples were showing, and the cold had made them pert, and I suddenly became aware of them and the dull ache from my hard nipples as they rubbed against my wet shirt.

I ducked under the window in case Max noticed me out of the corner of his eye, and I jumped down and momentarily stayed in a crouched position on the patio.

My blazer and bag were soaked, so I grabbed them and went to the front door. In my usual manner, I burst through and shouted, “fuck, I’m soaked,” making sure Max knew I was home and bounded up the stairs.

Max was just pulling on a t-shirt when I burst into our bedroom, took one look at me and burst out laughing.

I threw my blazer and bag on the floor and grabbed Max’s towel from my bed.

“Don’t put your wet towel on my bed again!”

Max was shocked as I began to rub his towel over my wet hair, drying it and then rubbing my face.

Fuck! I’d just wiped his cum in my hair and over my face. I had to pretend I didn’t know so Max didn’t think I’d seen him.

Max just chuckled under his breath.

“You look half naked. Those tits of yours look bigger than my girlfriends.” He laughed.

I looked down at my nipples, which were on full display. “Stop ogling my tits, you perv.”

“Perhaps you need a shower as well.” He said.

I ignored him and started to strip off my wet clothes. When I was down to my wet briefs, I went to grab my towel from our wardrobe.

“Well, those tightie-whities leave nothing to the imagination.” Max grinned.

I looked down again and saw my little pecker poking against the translucent fabric. “Stop perving at me.” I joked and turned around, pulling down my pants and exposing my arse to him.

I wrapped my towel around my waist and covered up my hard cock. I flounced from the room and took a shower.

 

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