21st September 2001: The story of when my big brother Gareth came to stay with me at university. It needed a third character to give ongoing context to Sebastian and Gareth’s incestuous flirtings and the less-than-likeable Thomo provided that grounding influence.

Brother Tease

Part 1 

One weekend, just after I turned 20, my brother Gareth came to stay with me at Uni. I don’t think his visit was motivated by any special occasion – Gareth is the kind of guy who I never hear from for six months and then he calls and says, “Hey Seb, I’m coming to stay.”

He came down on a Friday afternoon. He’d just finished sitting his finals at London, where he was studying, and I think he just wanted a weekend away from it all. Usually Gareth would go to our parents’ house and have my mother fuss over him for a couple of days while he chilled out, but for some reason on this occasion he came to Southampton to stay with me.

Before I went to meet him at the station (he’d never been to Southampton), I tidied up my room a bit. Cleared up my dirty underpants and socks and stuff off the floor and put some clean sheets on the bed, that kind of thing. I’d worked out with Kaz, my girlfriend at the time, that Gareth would sleep in my bed and I’d go around to hers and kip there.

Gareth is two years older than me and it seems that the older we get, the more differences seem to develop between us. We still get along okay – in fact I think I like being around him more these days because he has interesting opinions and bizarre ways of looking at things.

Anyway, we agreed that on Friday night he and I would go out with Kaz and I’d take him to a few of the decent pubs I know around Southampton. This guy from my flat called Paul Thompson, or Thomo for short, had just submitted his thesis for his masters degree and came along with us. I think he fancied Kaz and wanted to let her know that he was, as it were, waiting in the wings should she and I split up.

It was a pretty good night as I remember. Gareth is a bit of a geek and, when he’s dealing with people rather than computers, can get a bit awkward. But he loosened up a lot once he got a few pints down him and told us a few funny stories about the scandals going on at Queens College in London. Despite the obvious strain on him of just completing his exams, it seemed like he was in high spirits. I’d worried that Gareth might not get on with Kaz or Thomo but that didn’t seem to be the case. In fact, Thomo said to me, while we standing pissing in the gents of one of the pubs, “Your brother’s a good laugh.”

As we were walking back to the University residence, Kaz said she didn’t feel too well. She thought she was coming down with flu or something. She said she wanted to get to bed so, after we’d all walked around to her block with her, and I told her I’d see her in an hour or so, the three of us guys headed up to my room to have few more beers.

From the sounds coming from the kitchen in the flat, it was clear that there was a boxing match showing on the telly in there. Some of the other guys in the flat were watching the match, shouting and swearing at the TV. Thomo suggested that we join them but Gareth looked a bit hesitant. So as not to make Gareth look like a dork by refusing, I said, “That’s not really my thing, Thomo. We’ll go into my room.” To be honest, I can take or leave a boxing match but I know Gareth finds it a bit offensive.

Thomo went to the kitchen to fetch a few cans from the fridge and I turned on some music. Gareth sat on my bed with his back to the wall and when Thomo returned he grabbed the chair from under my desk and sat opposite him. When I’d sorted out a good CD to play, I sat next to Gareth on the bed.

Almost immediately, Thomo smirked and said, “I don’t want to be a gooseberry to you two guys.”

I stared at him.

He sniggered and said, “I mean, I don’t want to get in the way if you wanna get to know each other a little better…”

I said, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He looked very pleased with himself. Grinning broadly, he said, “Well, er, I think it’s called brotherly love. Or something.”

I turned sideways and looked at Gareth. He had a small smile on his face but the coolness of his eyes betrayed his tension.

I said, trying to look quizzical, “I don’t know what you’re on about, Paul.”

He said, “Well. I guess I overheard a bit of gossip. I guess it wasn’t true.”

I said, “Who from?”

He said, “Your ex. Er… Rachel wasn’t it? I heard from a friend of friend, kind of, that she dumped you because of something between you and Gareth.”

I glowered at him. I contemplated punching him in the face but wondered if it would make me look guilty in the eyes of him and the others who were talking about me.

Gareth said, his voice sounding far calmer than I was feeling, “What is this? Who’s Rachel?”

I said, “That screwed up bitch you met at New Year.”

Gareth said, “Oh her. Yes, she was clearly a very reliable source of information. I guess our secret’s out, Seb. We screw each other every second we can…”

Thomo said, still smirking, “Look. You know I’m just pissing about. She was nuts as hell. But why the fuck would she make that up? What did you two guys get up to that night?”

I said, “What are you asking Thomo? Did Gareth and I have sex? He’s my brother for Christ’s sake.”

Gareth laughed. Under his breath he said, “Jesus Christ. I don’t believe this…”

Thomo shrugged and laughed as well. “Hey I didn’t believe it – you know what I think of Rachel, Seb. I’m only pissing around with you guys.”

I said, “I can’t believe she’d even say that. I mean, what worse could she say? Apart from saying I fucked my dog I can’t think of anything more disgusting.”

Thomo held up his hands, “Hey I know. I’m just the messenger boy. Like, no-one believed the daft tart.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes.

Thomo’s smirk disappeared and, taking a swig from his can, I saw him glance over at us, his face anxious. I think he knew he’d overstepped the mark and felt that he’d betrayed his friendship with me for bringing this up. He seemed to be trying to think of something to say to ease the tension.

Gareth said, “But having said all that, you are pretty hot Seb. Fancy a shag tonight?”

Thomo and I laughed. Thomo said under his breath, shaking his head, “Yeah she’s totally fucking screwed up…”

And we left it there. Thomo changed the conversation onto boxing and why I didn’t like it. Gareth ended up taking over from me when my arguments against it dried up and the two of them chatted about it for about ten minutes. I think we were all relieved to have moved on from Thomo’s supposedly jovial accusations.

***

Next morning, I left Kaz in bed and headed back over to my flat. I hadn’t remembered to take any stuff with me when I’d left at about two in the morning, so I stunk of cigarette smoke from the pub and needed to clean up and have a shave. I found my room empty – the bed was unmade but Gareth wasn’t there. I wandered to the kitchen and said good morning to Thomo who was standing making coffee in his dressing gown. Heading back down the corridor, I glanced into the bathroom and saw Gareth’s outline showering behind the white, translucent curtain.

I went back into my room and started to undress. As I was taking off my jeans, I noticed a pair of my dirty briefs lying on the bed near the pillow. I immediately thought that I must have accidentally left them stuffed between the mattress and the wall when I’d sorted the bed out, and I hoped Gareth hadn’t been aware of them. I wasn’t like mega-embarrassed or anything – we’re brothers after all – but I didn’t want him to think me slovenly.

As I retrieved them, intending to stuff them in my laundry bag, I was surprised to find that they felt damp and warm. I looked at them, wrapped up in a ball as they were, and saw that they had splash marks on them. I unfurled them and found that inside there were strings of a thick white fluid that could have been either snot or cum. At first I thought that I’d found Gareth’s own briefs and felt an automatic wave of revulsion, but, on consideration, it seemed too much of a coincidence that we would both wear the same brand of underwear and that he would have a pair with dark blue and white stripes just like mine.

I stared at the damp underpants for a few seconds. I drew them up to my nose and sniffed them lightly. The thick, sexual smell of semen was unmistakable. Another wave of disgust washed over me and I quickly withdrew them.

I disregarded the possibility that I had left them in my bed with a wad of cum inside them. While the tendency to wipe myself on the nearest thing to hand after a wank is not unknown to me (despite the protestations of a long succession of girlfriends), I knew that there was no way that cum could survive for over a day without drying up.

I wondered if maybe Gareth had masturbated when he’d woken up and grabbed a pair of my briefs out my laundry bag to wipe himself. It seemed kind of unlikely since the bag was stuffed into the bottom of my wardrobe.

I opened the door of the wardrobe and looked down at my laundry bag. It seemed pretty much as I had left it – a black Adidas hold-all with a bust zip and dirty clothes inside it. But then I noticed that all the stuff on the top of the pile of clothes were briefs. I couldn’t remember what it had looked like when I’d tidied the room up on the previous afternoon, but I remembered clearing up a few of my basketball vests and loads of socks along with the briefs lying on the floor, and stuffing them all in it together.

The possibility that Gareth had rifled through my dirty underwear during a wank session was looking pretty likely. I tried to think of other explanations for what I’d found, but I couldn’t. My mind kept returning to the scenario of Gareth lying on my bed, jerking his cock with one hand and applying my dirty underpants to his nose with his other. Breathing in the smell of my cock, my balls and my arse while his hand pulled away at his dick. Instead of feeling repulsed by the idea of my brother getting off on my most intimate smells, I felt intrigued and slightly excited. I felt my cock stirring inside the briefs I was wearing.

I looked back down at the striped underpants in my hand and at the thick gobs of semen sticking the insides of them together. The thought that this was Gareth’s cum interested me. I guess that if it had been any other guy’s cum, I’d have put the briefs down and got on with what I’d been doing; but the fact that it was my brother’s kindled my fascination. I wondered what it would be like; how it would compare with my own.

I drew the briefs up towards my nose and inhaled the smells of my brother’s semen, thick and glistening inside them. I expected to be appalled but by now my excitement was building and the smell of his cum was no longer repellent to me. In fact, at first I could hardly smell it – the first encounter with it seemed to have numbed my sense of smell – but as I enveloped my nose within the folds of the material, the powerful odour of my brother’s semen overwhelmed me.

It smelled stronger than my own cum: it bore a sharp, distinctively male smell which was altogether different from the whiffs I’d had of my own cum wiped up on tissues or briefs after wanking. I was totally fascinated by it: Gareth’s jism, lying inside my stripy underpants, was the first experience I’d had of another guy’s semen up close. The fact it was my brother’s cum added to my interest: despite our inherited similaries, such as our heights, our blond hair and our angular faces, his cum was completely different to mine. It seemed thicker and more glutinous, and it smelled far more sharp and musky.

I contemplated tasting it. I’d tasted my own, of course. Following my second or third orgasm by my own hand when I was eleven, I had tentatively licked some of my cum from my fingers. It had been thick and warm and had tasted salty.

I pushed my tongue downwards and licked a small amount of Gareth’s semen from my briefs. It felt like it was not yet cold. It was beginning to set, like jelly does, but from the warmth on my tongue it seemed that Gareth had tossed himself off just before he’d gone to take a shower.

His cum had a strong, almost cloying, taste which made my mouth water. It was salty and at the same time slightly sweet. I played with it on my tongue, rolling its gel-like consistency around in my mouth, diluting the powerful taste in my saliva.

Then I licked a little more of it, enjoying the act of drinking my brother’s semen far more than I enjoyed the taste of it. I kept thinking about what I was doing – knowing and relishing the fact that most people would view this as utterly disgusting. I found it so exciting: I hadn’t even locked the door and here I was, licking my brother’s wad of cum with my cock hard and throbbing and looking like a thick pole inside my light blue briefs which were straining to hold it.

I kept reminding myself as I licked more of the solidifying liquid from my discarded briefs, that this stuff had squirted out of my brother’s cock. I imagined his foreskin rolling up and down over his bell end and his jism shooting out into my briefs, thickly coating them. I thought about him lying on his back, his hand jerking on his large cock, smelling my underpants and inhaling the material which had cupped my cock, balls and arse for a day. My fingers gently stroked the shaft of my own cock, feeling its stiffness within the confines of my underpants, as I thought about this white liquid in my mouth shooting out of Gareth’s purple bell end.

At that moment the door opened.

I immediately crouched down to hide my erection and busied myself with my laundry bag inside my wardrobe. Without looking up, I stuffed the cum-soaked briefs into it.

Thomo said, “Morning all. Hey, where’s your brother?”

I said, “Oh – er – I guess he’s taking a shower.”

I stayed crouched down as if I had more stuff to do with the bag. Thomo said, “Hey Seb – that stuff about you and Gareth last night? Well, er…”

I looked up and saw him staring at the bag, obviously wondering what I was doing.

I explained, “I’m out of underpants. Looking for a half-decent pair from last week.”

He smiled and said, “Oh yummy.” He paused. Then continued, “Well anyway. You know that stuff was only a joke, don’t you? Like, I didn’t mean to piss you off.”

I stood up and closed the wardrobe door. Although my cock was softening, I made sure that I casually adjusted my teeshirt to conceal it. It felt soft but heavy. I knew without looking down that I would still be packing quite a bulge. I felt kind of embarrassed to be like that in front of another guy.

I said, “Well, forget it. It wasn’t a big deal.” I was aware of the strong taste of Gareth’s cum in my mouth. I hoped it wasn’t detectable on my breath.

He said, “Yeah. Cheers. I just felt like I’d been a bit of a dork.”

I said, picking up my towel and bag of shower stuff, “Well, it was nothing. Forgotten already.”

I moved forward but he didn’t get out of my way. He stared at me and looked like he wanted a bit more to be said on the subject. I smiled in encouragement, hoping that this would reassure him that it was not important and that he’d drop it.

He said, looking at the floor and seeming nervous, “I mean, it’s natural isn’t it?”

I said, “What?”

He said, “Well, you know. All that brother stuff.”

I paused. Then I asked, shaking my head slightly in my incomprehension, “‘Brother stuff’?”

He said, “Well, I mean… you know. It’s natural for brothers to, kind of, get it on a bit together. Just in fun and stuff.”

I said, “I dunno.” I smiled at him to try to ease the tension. I continued, “Do you?”

He said, “Oh, er, I haven’t got a brother… but I’d imagine it’d be natural if I had.”

He gave me a small smile.

I said, “Can I go for a shave now?”

He moved back from the door apologising for blocking it. Then I walked out into the corridor and into the bathroom.

***

Gareth was out of the shower and, as I walked in with Thomo behind me, he was standing naked in the middle of the room, drying his hair with his towel. Aware of Thomo behind me, I didn’t look at Gareth too attentively: instead I walked over to one of the sinks and started filling it up with warm water.

I said, “Hiya Gazza. How’s it going?”

He jumped back. Then said, “Jeez. I didn’t hear you. Your bathroom door has no lock.” He automatically positioned the towel in front of his body to conceal his crotch.

I said, “No secrets between us here.” I theatrically lowered my voice and, glancing pointedly towards Thomo, continued, “But then, you and I are used to that, aren’t we, Gareth?”

Thomo walked over to the toilet cubicle and, without closing the door, opened his dressing gown and took his dick out to piss. He said, “Okay okay. Enough with the brother stuff.”

Through the mirror above the sink, I saw that Gareth was staring at me and looking serious. I pulled my teeshirt over my head and then, standing in front of the sink wearing just my blue briefs, I gave Gareth a small smile through the mirror.

I said, “Thomo said this morning that he thinks its natural for brothers to get it on together, Gaz.”

Thomo’s piss made a loud noise as it sprayed into the water in the toilet bowl.

He said, “Alright Seb. Enough okay?”

While I was spreading shaving foam onto my face, I saw a grin appear on Gareth’s face. He looked at me through the mirror and I smiled back at him. I think my smile looked far more mischievous.

Gareth removed the towel from in front of his body and returned it to his hair. Through the mirror I saw that he was nicely built. His chest was virtually hairless, like mine, and his pecs were clearly defined. He had clearly taken up going to a gym or doing some exercise since I’d last seen him. A line of light brown hair led from his belly button down into his pubes. Nestling in them was his impressive cock – much longer and thicker than mine, it hung down between his legs far lower than the pink ball sac behind them.

I said, “Hey, nice cock bro!”

Gareth removed the towel and looked over at me, smiling.

Thomo, still pissing, said, “This is getting a bit repetitive.”

I looked over at Thomo, standing in front of the toilet with his dressing gown open. He was wearing a pair of grey boxer briefs underneath his dressing gown and I could see his cock in his hand, poking out of the front of his boxers. The last few spurts of piss were squirting out of it. He’d pulled his foreskin back slightly. His cock looked thin and flaccid compared to Gareth’s.

Gareth walked towards me. As I bent forwards to start shaving my neck, I felt his cock press into the back of my briefs. Even though it was limp, it felt substantial as he pushed it between the cheeks of my arse.

Gareth said, “Yeah, it’s always been a nice fit in here, hasn’t it?”

Through the mirror, I looked over to Thomo. He was staring at us as he shook the last few drops of piss from his cock. He saw me looking at him and he smiled. Then he looked down, shaking his head in mock disapproval.

Bending forwards slightly, I pushed my arse outwards towards Gareth’s cock. I said, shaving the difficult area running from my neck towards my right ear, “Nice fit? It fucking splits me in two.”

I saw Gareth grin. He put his hands on my hips and ground his cock into the cleft of my bum. I glanced towards Thomo. His cock was still in his hand, but he’d stopped pissing and was just staring at the two of us. Looking curious.

Gareth said, “But you love that, don’t you?”

I pushed my bum into his cock, developing a slight rhythm. I looked at Gareth through the mirror and we smiled at each other. Then I looked at my half-shaven face and, still teasing Gareth with my arse, turned my attention to shaving my right sideburn and jaw.

I said, “I like all my men to be built like donkeys.”

I looked back towards Thomo. He was looking at us intently, wide-eyed. Really examining my arse and, presumably, my brother’s cock pressing into it. His grin had gone and he looked serious. His cock was in his hand and looked larger than it had when he was pissing.

Gareth said, “But you like mine best, don’t you Seb?”

I smirked at him. He’d obviously had this kind of conversation before. With one of these “friends” he always has. Other computer geeks who he spends most of his life with for six months or so and then I never hear about again.

I ran my fingers under the tap and rubbed the excess foam off my ear. Then I started on my left side.

I said, “I like yours best alright. There aren’t any other cocks around which have my big brother on the end of them.”

Gareth flashed a very serious look at me in the mirror. I smiled back at him, like this had been just another facetious remark.

I looked over at Thomo. He still stood in front of the toilet with his dick in his hand. He was clearly developing an erection: there was by now no doubt that his cock was excited. It looked about five or six inches long. His foreskin was completely pulled back to reveal his red bell end. The slit on his bell was still moist from his piss.

I said to Gareth, “Why don’t you do that little trick you do?” I pushed my arse backwards again, grinding it against his cock. I felt his cock, by now feeling harder, pushing between my arse cheeks, its head pressing against my hole. I felt my own cock thickening inside of my briefs. I’d pushed it down so that it covered my balls and, as it stiffened, it felt too confined in that position.

He raised his hands to my chest and cupped my pecs. He tweeked my nipples between his fingers and thumbs.

He said, “And which particular trick would that be, Sebastian?”

I pressed my arse back into him again. I smiled at him through the mirror.

He smiled back at me, flashing his white teeth, and said, “There are so many.”

I said, washing the razor in warm water from the tap, “That one where you lick my arse and then fuck me.”

My language obviously surpised Gareth. And probably impressed him a bit as well: the possibility that his straight younger brother knew about rimming would almost certainly not have occurred to him.

His right hand left my nipple and gently stroked the clump of fine blond hairs between my pecs.

He said, obviously intending to show me that such ideas were not new to him, “You mean the one where I get my tongue right up your arse and then ram my nine inch dick into you?”

I hadn’t realised Gareth was nine inches long when he was hard but I didn’t doubt that his claim was true.

I said, “Yeah that kind of thing. I forget the details.”

His smile was now very broad. I started shaving the stubble from above my top lip. I glanced towards Thomo. He continued to stare at us. His cock was still in his hand, now clearly fully hard and curving upwards. He didn’t try to hide it but also didn’t show any signs of masturbating it or even squeezing it. He just held it and stared at us.

Gareth said, “And I presume I get to suck you cock at some stage?” He flashed me a very wicked smile through the mirror. Distracted, I cut my lip with my razor.

I put the razor down and rinsed my lip with warm water. Gareth seemed very amused that I’d cut myself. He was almost laughing.

He moved his hands back down to my hips, caressing my chest and my stomach as did so. Then he pressed himself closer to me, so close that I felt his nipples on my back. He said, in a low voice that only I was meant to hear, “God your arse is so beautiful.” Hooking his thumbs around my underpants he sharply yanked them down. My cock sprung out from the front of them, a long way from being totally hard, but sticking out from my balls enough to touch the cold ceramic of the sink.

I grabbed onto the taps to steady myself and laughed, “You tiger you.”

He whispered, “I want to fuck you.” His cock pushed its way between my cheeks, as if trying to force its way into my arsehole. He pushed forwards again, pressing it so hard into me that it hurt.

I was starting to feel unsure about Gareth’s intentions. This had started as a joke, instigated by me, but now seemed to be turning into something a lot more serious, clearly led by him. I was prepared to go through with a little flirting with my brother in front of Thomo and his resulting erection was a definite bonus, but things were rapidly turning serious and I wasn’t sure that I wanted this to develop any further.

I said, “But what about Thomo… I wouldn’t want to offend him…”

I glanced over at Thomo through the mirror. He was staring at us, open-mouthed. His cock was in his hand, looking about six inches long and fairly thin but clearly curving upwards. He was gently jerking it, almost distractedly. When he realised I was looking at him he stopped and we stared at each other through the mirror for a few seconds.

He said, “Well, er… you guys know this is no big deal to me…”

I think it was as he was saying that, the bathroom door swung open and Kev – another of the guys living in the flat – burst in wearing just a pair of cream-coloured baggy boxer shorts.

He seemed oblivious to the fact that Gareth was standing right behind me, and headed straight for the toilet. He said, “Fucking hell Thomo, move over, I’m fucking bursting…” Then – while Gareth moved away from me and retrieved his towel and while I pulled my briefs back up – he pushed Thomo to one side and started pissing noisily into the toilet bowl. As he emptied his bladder, he turned to my brother and I, and said, grinning, “Fuckin’ hell. When you gotta go, you gotta go…” Then he laughed loudly. Kev was the kind of person to find that sort of comment infinitely entertaining.

I turned back to the mirror and continued shaving. Thomo tucked himself back into his boxer briefs, fastened up his dressing gown and went back to his room to get dressed. Gareth put the towel around his waist and headed to my room.

After I’d showered, I went back into my room feeling a bit sheepish. I wondered if Gareth and I had gone rather too far in front of Thomo. I didn’t know whether to raise the subject with him or whether to behave as if nothing had happened. But it turned out that Gareth wasn’t in my room. He’d gone to the kitchen to have some corn flakes or something. Helped himself to food from any cupboard he could find which had anything in it, I think.

When I went along to join him, a few of the other guys were also in there watching some Saturday morning kiddie crap, comparing the breasts of the various females who were presenting it. So we just stood together, me drinking coffee and him eating his cereal, watching the other guys and feeling seperate and superior.

***

Gareth and I took the bus into Southampton that afternoon. Thomo came along with us. He’d hung around for the rest of the morning, not saying much but seeming to want to be with us.

Kaz had said she needed to stay in bed. Her nose had been red and she’d kept sneezing. I’d asked her if she wanted me to stay with her but, aware that I hadn’t seen Gareth in six months, she told me I ought to go out for the day with him. So I’d left her with a packet of Lemsips and a hot water bottle.

We pissed around in the city for a while, like people do who have no money but time on their hands.

While Gareth was drooling over the latest computer magazines in W H Smith, I stood outside with Thomo. I looked at him, wanting to make some conversation. His silence was becoming oppressive. He just stared at the people walking past us, seeming to study a baby in a pram and then turning to watch a guy pushing a bike.

I said, “Hey, Thomo. You know that stuff this morning…? It was just a joke, right? I mean, we were just arsing about.”

He said nothing. He looked at the door of the shop opposite.

I said, “Hey, we weren’t meaning to, like, trap you or anything…”

He turned to me. His face was cold and serious. He said, “Trap me?”

I smiled at him to try to abate his obvious tension. I said, “You know – it wasn’t a set-up because of what you’d said the night before.”

He turned and looked at some teenage girls walking past us. He said, “Yeah I know that.”

I thought I’d let it drop. I wondered what was going on in his mind but he was intent on looking at other people and remained silent for a minute or so.

Then he turned toward me and said. “Look, Seb – you and Gareth. Answer me this… don’t be offended, right? But, well – are you… you know.”

Without intending to, I smiled. I said, “If we were… what would you think about us…?”

He returned to staring at the door of the shop opposite. He said, “I dunno.”

He paused. Then he said, “But I’m not going to bullshit.” He turned to look at me again. He continued, “I mean, we both know I had a stiffy…”

I said, “I have a girlfriend…”

He interrupted me snappily, “Yeah and I’m straight too. But we both enjoyed it. I could tell you were lapping it up.”

I thought about what he’d said. I knew he was looking at me but now it was my turn to watch the passers-by.

Eventually I said, “This goes no further…”

He said, “Yeah. Of course.”

I said, looking at an old woman pushing a tartan shopping trolley, “I… kind of… get off on his interest in me.”

He said, “Gareth’s gay…?”

I said, “Yeah. I reckon.”

After that we went quiet. We just watched people going about shopping and meeting people. Then Gareth came out of Smith’s and we went off some place else.

 

Part 2

6th October 2001: The second part of what proved to be a popular story. Having said that, if a writer can’t get a good reaction from a brother love story, maybe he shouldn’t be writing gay eroticism!

On the way back from town, Gareth saw a poster advertising a heavy metal gig which was happening that night in one of the halls in the student union, and he said he’d like to go. Heavy metal is not my thing at all, but Gareth goes through phases of liking it and, since he was supposed to be my guest for the weekend, I agreed to go along with him and check it out.

I phoned a few friends to see if anyone fancied going along with us – the main intention of inviting them being to relieve my own boredom – but none of them were even vaguely enthusiastic. Thomo had disappeared earlier in the afternoon, having gone off with a few of his mates we’d bumped into in Southampton – so it turned out that Gareth and I went to the gig alone.

I remember spending most of the night standing against a wall, drinking warm beer out of a flimsy plastic cup, wishing the band would play something I knew. Gareth got quite into it, though. He didn’t exactly dance – I can’t even begin to imagine Gareth condescending to dance – but he clearly enjoyed the sounds the band was making and seemed able to identify a rhythm behind the noise. Despite his shyness, he hit it off with a small group of guys near the bar. He stood and talked with them for over an hour and at one point disappeared with one of them to the gents. I wondered if maybe there was a link between liking heavy metal and being gay that had, up until now, completely passed me by.

While I was standing there, swirling my beer around inside the cup for something to do, a tall, thin girl wearing tight black spandex came up to me and made conversation. She had a cute, freckled face and blond curly hair. One of her front teeth was chipped. I chatted with her and she laughed at everything I said, regardless of the content. I kind of liked that about her. She was totally vacuous, and she loved herself for it. As I was talking to her, I kept checking out her tits. She was wearing a tight black teeshirt which had a cartoon-like painting of a zombie and the name of some band on it. Her tits were small but the teeshirt was tight enough for them to distort the lettering. I was wondering whether the two of us could sneak off somewhere – there was no way that Kaz could find out about this – when Gareth came back over to join us.

I don’t know why but Gareth has this ability to scare girls. He has done it to several of my ex-girlfriends, and he did it to the girl at the gig. He just has this way of looking through them and talking to me in a tone which excludes them and sends them running. So the girl disappeared within about thirty seconds of Gareth coming over to me.

He said he’d had enough of the band. I felt quite relieved. I’d had enough after about thirty seconds of being in the place.

Walking back to the University residence, I phoned Kaz. She sounded sleepy and confused and I felt guilty for waking her up. I asked her if she wanted us to get her a pizza or a Chinese take-away and call up with it.

There was a long pause on the phone.

Then she said, sounding almost breathless, “You know, Seb. I don’t think so. I’m so tired. I think I’ve got a fever. I just need to sleep it off. Sorry… sorry.”

I said, “I’ll come up. You sound – well, I’m worried.”

She said, “No.” There was another pause. “No. Don’t worry. I’m just out of it, babes. Fuckin’ Lemsip trip.”

I faked a laugh.

She continued, “I’ll be okay when I’ve slept it off. Can you… can you bunk up with Gareth tonight? I just need to get a good night’s sleep.”

I said, “Yeah. Course I can. But I’d rather be with you.”

She said, “Aw Seb, I know. But I’m so hot. I need to just lie here. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I was going to argue with her but she hung up.

I felt quite worried about her. I felt bad about contemplating sneaking off to shag that blonde girl around the back of the Union Building. Gareth wanted a pizza so I gave him my key and I went up to see how Kaz was.

When I got to her flat, I had to knock for a while before I saw her through the frosted glass lumbering towards the door wearing her dressing gown. None of her flatmates were in, it seemed. I felt guilty again; this time for making her get out of bed. She smiled to see me, but her movements were slow and clumsy, like she was drunk.

She said, “Seb, I told you… I’m okay.”

I said, “Like fuck. You’re ill.”

Her dressing gown gaped open slightly, revealing her beautiful, milky white stomach and her dark pubic hair. She said, “Yeah. I’m kind of aware of that. I just don’t like having people around me when I’m like this.”

Eventually I persuaded her to let me in. We went back to her room and she took her dressing gown off and go back into bed. I sat next to her, gently rubbing her leg. She looked sleepy and poorly but for some reason that me feel horny as hell and I really wanted to climb onto her. I fought the urge to tell her how much I wanted her. I thought it inappropriate and that it would confirm her oft repeated view of me as a “scrotum on legs”.

I guess I sat with her for about an hour. She nodded off after a short time but I stayed with her in case she woke again. When it became obvious that she was out of it, I quietly left her and turned off the light. I contemplated sleeping on the floor but wanted to respect her wish to be left to sleep alone. So I headed off back to my own room, hoping that Gareth would still be awake.

***

When I got back to my room, Gareth was still awake and talking to Thomo. They’d run into each other in the take-away and Gareth had bought a couple of packs of beer cans from the off-license for them both. Kind of to pay Thomo back for all the cans of his that we’d drunk the night before, I think.

Anyway, I grabbed a can and then sat next to Gareth on the bed, feeling quite tired and trying not to yawn. I saw that there were about six cans left and hoped that the two of them weren’t planning to drink all of them before we turned in.

Gareth obviously liked Thomo by now because he talked quite openly with him. They were talking about our family going back to Norway when we were kids. Visiting our mother’s relatives; that kind of stuff. Thomo was quite interested because he’d been over to Norway the previous Summer on a camping trip with his girlfriend. He kept mentioning place names and Gareth looked pleased to be reminded of them from when he was a kid.

Then it went quiet. They just sort of ran out of things to talk about.

I went to take another swig from my can and realised that while I’d been listening to them I’d drunk all of it. I asked Thomo to throw me another one up.

Then we sat there quietly, each of us occasionally drinking from our cans.

After a short time, Thomo said, totally out of the blue, “So… what was all that stuff you were doing this morning?”

Gareth asked, “What stuff?”

Thomo smiled and shook his head slowly. Then he looked back up at us, smirking, and said, “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten…”

Neither Gareth nor I said anything for a few seconds and then we both spoke at once. Gareth stopped what he’d been about to say, but I continued. I said, “We were just pissing about.”

Thomo chose to ignore this comment. Still smiling, he said, “So is that kind of stuff – well – is it common among brothers?”

I guess we both just stared at him and so he clarified himself.

He said, “I mean, have you done that kind of thing before? Is it a regular thing?”

I smiled. I said, “You’re a bit – ah – fascinated by this, aren’t you?”

Thomo laughed. Then he held his smirk and said, a bit sheepishly, “Well, sort of…”

I said, “I didn’t think this would be your sort of thing.”

He said, “No, I know. I’m not gay, but -”

Gareth interupted him: “It’s not a gay thing -”

Thomo said, “Yeah, I know, but -”

Gareth continued, “No, really. It’s not a gay thing between us. I mean, we’re brothers. We’re pretty much the same person. Or at least genetically we are. So it’s not a gay thing. It’s more like masturbation. It’s sex with myself. Kind of.” I got the feeling that Gareth was saying this more for my benefit than Thomo’s. He’d obviously thought a lot about what was going on between us and had got things sorted out in his own mind after a lot of deliberation.

Thomo considered what he’d said and nodded slowly. Then he smiled and said, “Yeah, that sort of makes sense.”

We sat quietly for a while. Each of us drinking from our cans. Then Thomo opened a fresh one.

Eventually, Thomo said, “I suppose that, as brothers, you can – well – experiment a bit together. Without getting hung up about it.”

Gareth didn’t speak. So after a few seconds I said, “I guess.”

Thomo said, “How far would you go?”

Again, I think we just stared at him. He smiled and looked down at his can. Then he looked back up at us and said, with a mischievous grin on his face, “Would you kiss each other? I mean, properly.”

I looked at Gareth. He was grinning broadly. He took a drink from his can. Then he said, still smiling, “You field this one, Seb.”

I looked back at Thomo. He was just looking at me, his smile fading. I said, “Yeah, I guess. Or at least, I wouldn’t have a problem with it.”

I turned to face Gareth again. He shrugged and said, “Yeah. No big deal.”

Then we looked at Thomo. He seemed to be rehearsing what to say inside his head before he came out with it. Wondering how we’d take it. After a few seconds he said, quietly, “Go on then.”

I turned back towards Gareth. His face was angled downwards so that his blue eyes gazed upwards at me. His irises looked deep and dark in contrast with the whites which were framing them. He was smirking. He looked devilish.

I guess I smiled back. This felt strange but good. Childishly naughty.

I leaned forwards towards him. He took the prompt and leaned towards me. I felt his warm breath against my chin as we moved together. Then his lips tentatively touching mine. I moved further towards him so that our lips were pressed together. Then he opened his lips slightly and I opened mine. I made a kissing motion against my brother’s warm, moist lips. It felt good; natural. I shifted my can to my left hand and put my right arm around his shoulder. He put his left arm around the middle of my back, and his palm gently rubbed my spine. He opened his lips further and I gently pushed my tongue between them. I held it there for a few seconds, the tip of it carressing his top lip and then the lower one. Then, gaining in confidence, he moved towards me again and drew my tongue into his mouth. His lips puckered against it, inviting more of it into him. I tasted his beer and felt his teeth. It felt totally different to kissing a girl: the fact that this was Gareth, my older brother, stayed at the forefront of my mind and amplified, rather than dampened, my excitement.

Gareth’s left hand carressed my spine all the way up between my shoulder blades. It tingled. His hand was large, far broader than any girl’s hand that has touched me, but was tender and gentle.

I pushed more of my tongue into him, my heart quickening and my enthusiasm growing. I became aware of my cock growing in size inside my jeans. I kissed him passionately. He responded by using his lips on the stem of my tongue, tightening and slackening them in rhythm like it was my cock in his mouth. My grip around his shoulders tightened and I pulled him further towards me. I could feel his breath growing faster, aware that mine was too.

Then Gareth pulled away. I opened my eyes. I hadn’t realised until then that I had closed them. I wondered if his had also been closed. I wondered whether his cock had stirred inside his jeans.

Gareth looked over at Thomo. I noticed that his mouth was slightly wet.

Then I looked at Thomo.

Thomo was staring at us, obviously captivated by what he’d seen. He seemed almost to physically shake himself to recover from the apparent trance he’d been in.

Then he grinned and said, “Shit.”

I took a swig from my can. Gareth did too.

Then Thomo said, “Would you – ah – well. I don’t know if you guys want to go on with this…”

Gareth said, “Would we what?”

Thomo smiled again. Then he said, “Well – as you said, it’s just like masturbation. No big deal. So would you – well – would you touch each other’s dicks?”

Gareth looked at me.

I said, “Your turn to answer first.”

He laughed, “Yeah. Course I would.”

Then he looked at me, smiling. Thomo was also staring at me.

I said, “As you said, Thomo: no big deal.”

Gareth smiled more broadly and looked down at his crotch. There was a definite bulge in the front of his jeans, but that could have been an indication of the size of his cock rather than that he was hard. He opened his legs slightly and said, “Enjoy.”

I leaned over and stretched my right arm outwards towards his crotch. He kept looking at my face which, I would imagine, had an intrigued expression on it. When I touched the front of his jeans he shivered slightly. I suppose that, despite our calm and indifferent exteriors, this was quite a significant moment for both Gareth and I.

I laid my fingertips on the front of his jeans, the middle finger on his fly. Then I gently moved my hand up and down, feeling the contours of his cock and balls inside his trousers with my fingertips. His cock seemed to be directed downwards in his underpants, covering his balls. I could feel its thick stem lying beneath the fabric of his trousers. It felt warm and soft, yielding to the slight pressure of my fingers as they stroked the front of his jeans.

Gareth looked at me – right into my eyes – and smiled warmly. He was really enjoying having his little brother feel him up. He said, “Turn around a bit. It’s a two-way thing.”

I turned my body towards him to give Gareth easier access to my crotch. He leaned towards me and cupped his palm around it. My cock was semi-hard and he immediately found it, tucked upwards and to the left inside my briefs. He squeezed the stem between his finger and thumb and I felt it stiffen in response. He laughed slightly when it twitched involuntarily. His teeth were clean and white.

It felt slightly strange to be like this with Gareth: to be reaching across and groping each others’ crotches. Kissing him seemed natural but this was, I suppose, more sexual and so added a more taboo dimension to the situation. Having Thomo watching us seemed, if anything,to ease my apprehension. It gave things a jokey, laddish angle that helped to make it more acceptable. This was just a bit of messing around, right?

Gareth’s fingers worked their way upward to the head of my dick, right up near the hole of my left pocket. When he reached it, he squeezed my bell end between his finger and thumb and then rubbed it gently, making swirling motions with his thumb. He said, “Not really such a little brother now, are you, Sebastian?”

I laughed. I looked a Thomo. He had an intense expression on his face again. He was really studying the movements of our hands. His cheeks were a light pink colour.

I felt Gareth’s cock beginning to stiffen inside his jeans. It started to push against the material, trying to move upwards inside the confines of his briefs and trousers. I stroked it gently, feeling the stem growing gradually harder and becoming thicker.

He said, “I might need to adjust it slightly.” Then he removed his hand from my crotch and stuffed it down the front of his jeans. I took my hand away from him as he fumbled around with his cock. When he’d moved it into a less painful position, he grinned at me and said, “Space is at a premium in there…”

Thomo said, “Well – er – this wasn’t really what I was thinking, you guys.”

His voice wavered as he spoke like he was tense.

We both looked at him. He explained: “Yeah. I – er – well – I was thinking that your cocks would actually be out of your trousers.”

I laughed and said, “I’m not getting my dick out in front of you!”

He said, “What’s the problem? I’ve seen it before loads of times.”

I said, incredulously, “Like when?”

He was dismissive. “Jeez, you know, in the bathroom and stuff.”

I said, “Yeah but it wasn’t hard.”

I realised that I’d just implicitly admited that my brother’s hand had given me a stiffie, but Thomo didn’t rise to the bait.

He said, “Being hard is no big deal. I mean, I would be if I was in your shoes…”

I said, “It’s not something I want you to see.”

He said, “I’ll get mine out too if it makes you feel better.”

I stared at him.

Then he said, smiling slightly, “It’s pretty hard as well.”

I looked at Gareth. He was really smirking. He looked like he was loving every minute of this. He looked back at me and then shrugged. He said, “Whatever…”

I turned back to Thomo and said, “Okay. You first.”

Thomo got up from where he’d been sitting against the wall. He stood up and swayed slightly in front of us. I realised he was very pissed. That pleased me: he probably wouldn’t remember much about any of this tomorrow morning. He grinned and said, “Ready?”

He pulled the zip of his jeans down and then reached inside. He had to fiddle around with the material of his underpants before he managed to get his cock into a position in which he could pull it out through his fly. When he did so, I could see that it curved upwards and was about six inches long. He pulled his foreskin back to fully reveal his dark pink bell end. His piss slit was wet and looked sticky. He said, “Quality or what?”

I said, “I think you’d better lock the door.”

He said, “Oh fuck,” and stumbled drunkenly towards the door, his cock poking out from his fly. When he’d locked it, he walked back over to us and stood, leaning against the wall, with his cock pointing at us like a gun. He said, “Right. Now you guys.”

Gareth and I looked at each other, both of us obviously amused by what was going on. Gareth said, “Your turn to go first again, I think.”

I got up on the bed and kneeled in front of him. He got up and did the same in front of me. He looked at my crotch and said, “Go for it.”

I pulled down my zip and reached in for my cock. It felt as if it was halfway between hard and soft. Still quite floppy but feeling thick and heavy. I like it when it’s that size. Especially in the showers at the gym or at the pool. Other guys glance at it and then look again for a better view. I’m quite well-built and when it’s in that state, large but still floppy enough to be seen in a men’s changing room, it’s a real eye-turner.

I pulled it out and it hung down in front of my fly, looking about six or seven inches long in its floppy state. My foreskin clung to my bell-end, revealing only a small part of the purple-head.

Thomo said, “You’re a lucky man, Seb.”

I looked up at Gareth and he pulled down his fly. He reached into his jeans and, like Thomo and I before him, fumbled around inside his underpants to get it out. I wondered if it would be hard. I thought that, since Gareth is probably gay, he would be getting off on this a lot more that I was. I was wrong, however. My brother’s dick was in a similar state to my own. Roughly the same size as it hung down in front of his jeans, but with rather more of its dark purple head showing since his foreskin was pulled back further.

Without comment from Thomo, Gareth reached forward and gripped my dick. He held it in his palm for a few seconds, just squeezing it. Then he moved his hand into a better position and started gently pulling my foreskin back until my moist, purple bell-end was completely exposed. The strong, sharp smell of it almost immediately hit me: I hoped that Gareth and Thomo weren’t aware of it.

Gareth looked at it for a couple of seconds and then started to roll my foreskin back to cover my bell-end, squeezing the stem of my cock as he did so. It felt good and my cock started to stiffen in response to his practised hands.

Gareth whispered softly, “Do me, Seb.”

I reached over and put my hand around Gareth’s cock. It felt very warm and the skin was soft and smooth. I followed his example and squeezed it gently. I immediately felt it twitch.

He whispered, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Thomo was within earshot, “My straight little brother knows what to do…”

I repositioned my hand to get my wrist at a better angle to masturbate him. Then I tried to pull his foreskin backwards and forwards as he was doing to me. My movements felt clumsy and at first I was afraid that I would hurt him. But he didn’t stop me so I continued. As I developed a rhythm, I had the amazing sensation of feeling him lengthen and stiffen in my hand. That made a big impact on me – to this day I wish that girls’ bodies did something similar that I could physically feel as they got turned on. It was really dramatic – even in my state of semi-drunkeness, I really enjoyed feeling the skin on my brother’s cock growing in my hand and feeling it change from being soft and smooth to being harder and more veined as it developed in size.

I watched as it rose upwards and outwards, increasing in thickness as it grew in response to the jerkings of my hand. I sped up slightly and Gareth looked at me. We stared at each other for a few seconds, both of our hands pulling at each other’s dicks, and then he smiled.

I looked down at my own cock and saw my brother’s hand pulling away at my foreskin, increasing in pace. I was by now fully hard and my cock looked pretty good, six or seven inches of it poking out from the fly of my jeans and its thick stem curving upwards. My bell end was growing darker in colour. Beads of precum formed at my piss slit before being spread across the moist head of it by the rapid sweepings of my foreskin in my brother’s hand.

I looked at Gareth’s cock. It was also reaching full hardness, curving upwards like mine but looking larger and more substantial. It was certainly longer than my own – probably by about an inch – and seemed thicker. I watched my hand, by now stroking it quickly, pulling his foreskin backwards and forwards at the rapid speed that I like when I’m masturbating myself. It felt similar to my own, but filled my own far more than my own does.

Then I looked back at Gareth and we stayed like that, kneeling in front of each other on the bed, jerking each other off, for half a minute or so. He smiled at me and I smiled back at him. Our hands were working to the same rhythm. Our breathing was slowly getting faster.

Then he said, starting to pant, “This is… pretty good. Just like… my own cock…”

I said, also breathing heavily, “Yeah… but a bit smaller…”

He laughed and said, “Vaginal fluids… inhibit dick growth… not your fault…”

I said, more seriously, “Is that true?”

He smiled, breathing rapidly. He said, “Kiss me, Seb.”

I leant forward and kissed him again. Our hands stayed on each others’ cocks, wanking each other at a quickening rate. Our mouths were more impatient than before. My tongue plunged straight into him and he sucked on it urgently, feasting on it with his own tongue.

It felt so good to be like this with Gareth. To be kissing him and pleasuring him while he did the same to me. I kept thinking about why it had taken us so long to do this together. Here I was at twenty years old discovering a new intimacy with my brother that I could have discovered and been enjoying for years. My own heterosexuality felt in no way compromised by what we were doing: I was by now beginning to enjoy what Gareth and I were sharing in the context of us being brothers; I didn’t want him to be my girlfriend nor me to be his.

I pulled away from him and looked back down at his cock. It looked enormous by now: thick and hard as it curved upwards from the front of his jeans. My hand was almost a blur as it moved up and down his stem, tugging his foreskin backwards and forwards. The broad, bulbous head of his dick was covered and uncovered in quick succession from the rapid, smooth movements of my hand. His bell-end was slick with the clear liquid oozing out from his piss slit and my fingers felt slippy from the drops of it leaking onto them.

Gareth put his thumb on the head of my cock and swirled it around its opening. The sensitivity of my bell-end made me pull back from kissing him and, closing my eyes and looking upwards, I gasped in pleasure. I was so affected by what he was doing that my hand pulled away from his cock.

He said, laughing slightly, “You like that…”

I said, still gasping and recoiling from the sensations his thumb was giving me, “Oh God… yeah…”

He said, “Thought you would… that’s one of my favorites…”

He wrapped his fingers more tightly around the shaft of my dick as his thumb drew circles on my throbbing, sensitive bell end. I felt my cock swelling in his fingers, my pleasure almost uncontainable.

I said, “Oh Jesus… I’m gonna cum…”

I looked at my brother and saw that he was grinning broadly at me as his hand did its work on my cock. I looked down to his cock and saw it pointing up at me, pulsating and swollen to its maximum size. It’s purple head was shiny, the skin pulled tight as it throbbed. The piss slit stared up at me like an eye.

I gasped again: “Oh fuck!”

Thomo said, “Hey, you guys! Wait a minute…”

Gareth pulled back from me and I relaxed, my arms outstretched on the bed in front of me to support myself. I panted breathlessly, staring down at the checked pattern on the duvet cover. My cock throbbed, demanding that my brother should spend just a few more seconds to finish what he’d started.

When I’d recovered and pulled myself back from the brink of my orgasm, I looked over at Thomo. He stood watching us, his cock in his hand. His bell end looked red and inflamed and it was clear that he’d been masturbating himself as he watched us.

I said, “What?”

He said, “I just – well – I thought -” Then he paused. He went on, “You two looked so hot like that…”

I guess Gareth and I just stared at him.

He said, “I mean, I’m not into guys, but – Jeez – you make a good couple…” He laughed.

I suppose that Gareth and I had looked good together, kneeling in front of each other on the bed, jerking each others’ cocks. We’re both blond and tall. We’re both pretty well-built in the trousers department. I’m pretty sporty. He’s more academic-looking. I guess that Thomo was right: we did go together pretty well.

Then Thomo said, “I just thought – well – you might wanna – you know – go a bit further.”

I said, “I’m not gonna fuck him in front of you…”

I realised that I’d just implied that I might fuck him if we were alone. I thought that I probably would like to do that.

I looked at Gareth. He looked back at me, looking more serious. Then he gave me one of his mischeivous smiles.

Nobody said anything for a few seconds. Gareth and I sat there looking at each other, both with our hard cocks, still red from each others’ fingers, poking out of our jeans. Thomo looking at both of us with his smaller and redder cock in his hand.

Thomo said, “Well – how would you feel about – as brothers – well – kind of – sucking each other?”

Before I had time to consider what Thomo had said, Gareth said, “No way. That’s a bit too far…”

Thomo looked at me. I stared at him, thinking about what he’d said.

I said, slowly, considering my words before I said them, “Well, I – I dunno – I… wouldn’t dismiss it so quickly…”

I felt Gareth looking at me intently. I didn’t look back at him. I was saying how I felt. I didn’t need to look at him for his support or otherwise.

I said, “I’ve always, sort of, wondered what my dick tastes like. You know – when girls are sucking it. So… I guess it would be kind of interesting…”

Thomo said, in encouragement, “Yeah – ‘cos I suppose his dick would taste pretty much like your own…”

Gareth chuckled.

I turned to look at him. He was looking at Thomo. He said, “You wanna see Seb suck me off then…?”

Thomo said, “Well – I just – sort of wondered if you guys would go that far…”

Gareth said, “Yeah. But do you want to see it? Does it excite you?” He was looking intently at Thomo. Like he was trying to work out what was going on in the guy’s mind.

Thomo said, “I dunno. I’ve never done this kind of thing before. Never even thought about it. Except for – you know -”

Gareth said, “What?”

Thomo said, “Well – I suppose I’ve thought of sisters getting it on together. But never brothers…”

Gareth said, “But now you’ve seen it… what do you think?”

Thomo stared at Gareth for a few seconds. Then he said, “Well – I dunno. I guess – well – I suppose I like it…”

Gareth looked over at me. He said, “You really wanna do this, Seb?”

I said, “It’d be kind of interesting…”

I looked down at Gareth’s cock and saw that it was partially limp. It still stood outwards from his jeans but was pointing downwards, as if studying the duvet cover rather than staring at me as it had done a minute earlier.

Thomo said, “I kind of -” He cleared his throat. “I kind of envy you. I’d love to do this kind of thing to know what my dick tastes like…”

I leaned downwards towards Gareth’s cock. While remaining in a kneeling position, he straightened his body to bring his cock upwards towards my face.

He said, “If you hate it, just stop. I won’t be bothered.”

I stared at my brother’s semi-erect cock, hanging downwards in front of me. Looking fat and heavy poking out from his jeans. A little red and sore near the base where his zip had rubbed against the skin.

I moved my face towards it. I could smell it. The large red head, now looking shrivelled, smelt of his precum. A sharp, musky and distinctly masculine odour that I recognised as very similar to that which comes from my own cock when it’s hard.

I said, “Smells good.”

Gareth said, “Are you being funny?”

I looked up at him. He looked kind of offended. Like I was mocking his cock. Like I’d do that.

I said, “No. It does smell good. A bit like my dick. Kind of – well – I suppose ‘familiar’ would be a better word.”

He didn’t say anything.

I returned to his cock and moved my hand out to hold it. It felt soft again. Warm and smooth. A very attractive feeling.

I gently stroked it. It twitched a bit as if in approval. I thought about how cool it had been to feel it developing in size in my hand. I wanted it to do the same thing in my mouth.

I moved my face down to it and gently licked my brother’s bell end. Despite the smell from it, I found that it had only a slight taste. It definitely wasn’t at all pissy as I’d expected, and it lacked the sharp pungency of a woman’s pussy. Just a subtle, fairly pleasant taste that I’d never experienced before. The taste of cock, I guess. Well, better than that: the taste of my brother’s cock.

It twitched again and I lifted it upwards so that I could take Gareth’s bell-end into my mouth. Out of the corner of my eye, I was aware of Thomo’s hand starting to pull slowly on his own cock as he watched us.

I felt the stem of Gareth’s cock starting to lengthen as I took the head of it into my mouth. It felt good to be doing this to him. Just as I had earlier, I wondered why I had never done this before. It seemed like a natural gift that I could give him. Something we should have been sharing together as we grew up.

I felt his bell-end enlarging in my mouth, swelling in thickness and pushing its way further towards the back of my mouth. I tried to take some of the rapidly stiffening rod of his cock into me but found that he was too big: I felt like I was going to gag. I moved my head upwards to follow the rising of Gareth’s lengthening cock, noticing how it was curving upwards again and how the veins were starting to protrude from the skin of its stem.

I contented myself with licking and sucking at his bell-end. It was almost fully engorged. It throbbed in my mouth, feeding me precum which dribbled onto my tongue and tasted salty.

Gareth murmured, “Oh yeah. God…”

I played with the swollen head of his cock with my tongue. Moving my head towards and away from it, developing a rhythm. I felt his broad hands holding my head. His thumbs played with my ears. Then his fingers moved down to tickle the short, sensitive hairs on the back of my neck.

I was aware of Thomo’s hand on his own cock, a blur of motion as he frantically jerked himself to the sight of the two of us brothers at our most intimate.

I reached up and held the stem of Gareth’s stiff, hot cock, squeezing it while I played with his bell-end in my mouth. Then I started to jerk it a bit. I felt like I was pumping it, milking the copiously-flowing precum out of it and onto my tongue. I felt like I was feeding from him. My older brother feeding me from his stiff, rod-like cock.

I heard Gareth panting and he started pushing his dick further into my mouth and pulling it out. Very quickly. Developing a fast, rhythm and making short strokes so as not to make me gag. Holding my head more firmly in his hands and pushing his fingers down my neck so that they were under the neckline of my teeshirt.

Then I felt splashes of a thick, hot liquid on the side of my face and realised that Thomo was cumming onto me. He was gasping and kept saying, “Shit, shit, shit…”

I pulled back from sucking Gareth.

Thomo put his other hand in front of him and caught the last few squirts of his thick, milky semen with it.

He said, “Jesus. Sorry you guys. I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t feel it coming… I just… fuck…”

I laughed. I wiped some of Thomo’s cum away from my cheek. I was worried about it getting into my eye. I’m kind of weird on eye-stuff.

He kept apologising and swearing.

Gareth got up and reached for a clean teeshirt out of his rucksack. He wiped the splashes of Thomo’s cum from his cock and then threw Thomo the teeshirt so that he could clean himself up.

I said, “I’ve got tissues – somewhere.”

Thomo kept muttering stuff.

I said, “It’s no big deal, Thomo.”

He said, “It’s so fucking embarrassing…”

Gareth said, tucking his softening cock back into his jeans, “Jeez, it happens all the time.”

I said, “Maybe to you, Gazza.”

He looked at me and smiled. Then he said, “Yeah. I guess it doesn’t happen too often when you’re with a girl, does it…?!”

Thomo undid his belt and button, and opened the front of his trousers to adjut his boxer briefs and put away his cock. He said he was going to go but Gareth persuaded him to have another can.

I was still cleaning up. I’d taken most of the brunt of Thomo’s explosion and it took me a few minutes to wipe it off my neck and clean up my teeshirt with a damp face cloth. I realised, while the two of them were opening the last two cans and pouring a share of the beer into the one I’d been drinking, that my cock was still flopping out from the front of my jeans and I discretely tucked it away.

Then I got back onto the bed with Gareth, both of us sitting side-by-side and facing Thomo who was leaning against the wall, and the three of us chatted some more. Stuff about heavy metal. Why Gareth liked it.

At about half past two, Thomo fell asleep against the wall, his body outstretched on the floor.

Gareth and I, careful not to wake him, pulled off our teeshirts and jeans and got into the bed together. Neither of us offered to sleep on the floor. After what we’d just done together, it would have seemed prissy.

It was a tight squeeze for us, though. Two pretty big guys in a single bed. Gareth lay on his back next to the wall. I got in next to him and lay on my back. We lay like that for ages. I kept thinking about what we’d done and how easy it had been for me to do it. How it had seemed to be a natural and belated development in our relationship as brothers. And how I had had no pangs of guilt for Kaz: my intimacy with Gareth was on a totally different and unconnected level from my intimacy with her.

I thought about how nice my brother’s cock had tasted and how good it had felt to have his bell-end filling my mouth. I remembered the sensation of it, pushing and pulsating, swelling and oozing precum onto my tongue. My cock started to get hard again. I wanted to do more with him.

But then I heard him make a soft snoring sound. His breathing was deep. He was out of it.

I rolled over towards him onto my side. I put my arm over him and gently carressed his chest. It felt smooth and soft. Fine hairs sprouted from the middle of it, between his pecs.

He moaned and turned over away from me onto his side. I held him like I would a girl. My erection pressed through the two layers of cotton of each of our briefs and into one of the cheeks of his arse. It felt soft and warm.

I held him like that and, still hard, drifted off to sleep.

 

Part 3

28th November 2002: The conclusion of my brother ‘epic’.

It wasn’t an entirely restful night, trying to share a single bed with Gareth. For the first few hours elbows and knees seemed to be everywhere; every time one of us tried to change positions, to move this way or that, we’d knock ourselves into a sharp part of the other.

Cocks and arses were another problem: we both seemed to be constantly groping each other. Wherever I put my hand, it ended up on the front or back of Gareth’s briefs. Grabbing his dick, or feeling his arse. And him with mine.

He was my brother, we’d been through a lot together and were long past getting freaked out about each others’ bodies, but it was still kind of embarrassing.

We ended up finding that the best positions for us were to lie side-by-side, one guy behind the other; the guy behind with his arm over the other. That way minimised the elbowing, kneeing and pushing of each other that had gone on for hours. The position had its own drawbacks, of course: mainly that the guy behind couldn’t seem to help getting a hard-on and poking it into the other’s arse, but at least we were sleeping more soundly.

I’d wake up with Gareth’s cock burrowing into my arse cleft, him making gentle groaning noises. I’d roll over, grumbling in my half-sleep, and push him over too. Then, when we were both comfortable, my chest against his back, we’d drift off to sleep again. Half an hour later or so, he’d wake me up, trying to push me away, and I’d realise my dick was stiff as board and trying to force its way between his cheeks. So I’d turn away from him again and the cycle would repeat itself.

We both seemed to get instantly stiff as soon as we had an arse in front of us. The fact it was our brother’s arse just didn’t seem to worry us.

We were in that state, me in front and Gareth behind, when Thomo woke us up.

I came round first, aware of the smell of coffee and of Thomo in front of us, still in his clothes from last night. He was laughing but I didn’t know what it was about.

Then I felt a cold draft and realised that Thomo had pulled the duvet away from us. Gareth was clinging onto my back and I heard him grunting.

Then I became aware of his cock sliding up and down the back of my briefs and realised he was humping me in his sleep. He was panting and gasping, unconsciously masturbating himself against me.

Thomo said, “Brothers in arms, eh?”

I pulled away and realised I was hard as hell. In my sleep I must have been enjoying having my older brother humping my butt.

I turned to Gareth and shook him. “Gazza. Gazza, mate. Wake up.”

He groaned, still panting. His cock made an impressively thick rod inside his light blue briefs. The front of them were tenting outwards, the material stretched tight by his large-looking erection. Part of the blond bush of his pubes spilled out from the waistband which was being pulled downward by the bulge he was making.

Thomo looked at it and then joked, “Good job you guys kept your kegs on. That could have got a bit painful for you…”

I threw him a contemptuous look and sat up a bit to reach for the coffee he was passing me.

Thomo looked down at the front of my briefs, which were similarly tented with the straining of my own erection, and he sort of raised his eyebrows. Like he was saying, “Aye-aye. Turned on by your big brother, Seb?”

But I didn’t care. I had a morning stiffie: so fuck. Prove it was Gareth that caused it. Fucking prove it.

I took a swig from the cup. It was hot but felt good burning its way down my chest.

Then Thomo grinned again and said, “You guys looked so cute. I should have got my camera out.”

I felt really pissed off by his innuendos and seedy grins. I snapped, “If you had then it’d be smashed against the fucking wall. Like your fucking face.”

I’m not the violent type but I guess Thomo caught me at just the wrong moment.

Thomo giggled. “Ooo-ooooh! Who’s Mr Grumpy Chops this morning?”

I ignored him and shook Gareth again. Still fairly breathless, he growled like a sleepy dog.

I said, “Gazz, we’ve got coffee.”

He opened his eyes very slightly, like it was painful to do so. He was never very good at waking up.

I smiled. “Wakey, wakey, Gazzykins.” Gazzykins was the name our mother used to call him when he brought his friends for tea. Just to humiliate him in front of them.

His lips broke into a grin. I hadn’t reminded him of that name for years. He croaked, “You bastard.”

Thomo said, “Do you want a coffee, Gareth?”

Gareth ignored him. Maybe he’d heard his puerile jokes, maybe he just found him generally irritating. Whichever, he couldn’t be bothered to offer a response.

Thomo looked a bit miffed so I spoke for Gareth. “Yes, he does.” Then I turned to Gareth and shook him for a third time. “Sit up for God’s sake, Gazz. Coffee’s being served.”

Gareth said, his voice cracked by his tiredness, “Jesus fucking Christ. What time is it?”

Thomo was in a position to look at the digital clock. “It’s half past one. In the afternoon.”

Gareth spoke the word I thought. “Fuck.”

He sat up and Thomo passed him his coffee. I suppose it was nice for him to have made us coffee and brought it to us in bed, but the at the time I found him too irritating to appreciate it.

I suppose it was the mood I was in.

Gareth gulped down the entire cup of coffee in one go. Then he said, “You forgot the fucking sugar.”

He handed Thomo the cup. Thomo asked, “How was I supposed to know you take sugar?”

Gareth closed his eyes like this whole conversation was beneath him. He mouthed, “Jesus Christ.”

I said, “This is what I have to put up with. Now you know.”

Gareth kept his eyes closed and shook his head slowly but couldn’t stop himself from smiling slightly.

Thomo didn’t seem to notice and clanked Gareth’s cup onto the desk against his to make a statement.

Then he said, “I’m gonna get a shower. If you two would be so kind as to excuse me?”

Gareth nodded, his eyes still closed. “Consider it done. But you owe us one.”

Thomo threw us a look of exasperation, shaking his head slowly. Then he left the room.

I looked at Gareth and he grinned. “Just like old times.”

We used to do this kind of thing to people when we lived at home: both of us acting superior like we had some innate bond that they couldn’t be part of. Excluding them, gently ridiculing them, the two of us acting together without prior arrangement, like a pair of spooky identical twins from old B-movies. Sometimes it would really bug people, especially our older sister; at other times they’d just smile, shrug and retire as if it was a brother thing that they didn’t understand.

I said, “It’s funny how we just do that.”

Gareth shrugged dismissively. “He was being a knob head.” He said the words “knob” and “head” separately as if he meant the observation literally. Then he added, “He deserved it.”

I smiled and took the last couple of swigs from my cup. Reaching over to put it on the desk, I said, “He lives here, though. I’ve got to see the guy every day.”

Gareth shrugged and looked as if he was bored with the discussion. He stared down at his cock which still pressed upwards in his briefs.

He said, “D’you wanna make more coffee?”

“Not really. Do you?”

He considered the suggestion, still staring at his cock. “Let’s remember that I’m the guest and you’re the host.”

“Exactly. Just what I was gonna say. I’m fucking knackered from all the hosting I’ve been doing. You should make the coffee.”

He grinned, still looking down at himself. Then he muttered, “I fancy a wank more than that, actually.”

I couldn’t help but break into a smile. It was such an un-Gareth thing to say; so totally at odds with his usual reserved way of expressing himself. I guess our night of elbowing each other in the bed must have loosened a few of his inhibitions.

I said, “What? Now? With your little brother – your shocked little brother – looking on?”

He smiled back. “Me shock you? Like that’s possible…” He looked down at the front of my briefs which had softened slightly but still made a semi-stiff bulge. He continued., “Anyway, you look as if you could do with sorting yourself out too…”

I laughed. “Are you suggesting we have a wank together?”

“We used to when we were on holiday when we were kids. It’d be like old times.” He smirked mischievously.

I looked down at the rod of his dick. It seemed to really strain upwards against the light blue of the material, stretching it well past the point at which it could recover. At the very tip of the bulging outline of his bell-end, there was a small round damp patch where a bead of his precum had leaked out.

The sight of it was making my own cock respond. I’ve always liked looking at Gareth’s cock – I’ve always been fascinated by it as a larger and thicker version of my own. A glimpse at what might have been if a few different genes had come my way.

Gareth looked at my bulge, lengthening and thickening and becoming more obviously rod-shaped.

He said, “We’ve both grown quite a bit bigger since then by the look of things…”

I couldn’t stop myself breaking into a grin; partly because it was so unexpected to have Gareth talking openly to me – his kid brother – about stuff like this, and partly because the anticipation of masturbating together now, as adults, was really turning me on.

I laughed, “Yeah… yeah… it’d be cool…”

He said, “I feel as horny as fuck. All that pissing about last night… screwing around with Thomo…”

“Yeah… my nuts are ready to burst.”

He looked down at my briefs again as if looking to see how big my balls really were. Whether an explosion really was imminent.

His face became more serious. “You don’t think this is wrong, do you? I mean, we’re brothers…”

Like I hadn’t realised.

I said, “Doesn’t that make it more acceptable? I mean, we’ve wanked together since we were kids… now and again, odd times…”

“Yeah, but we were never really so up-front about it. We never actually said anything about it. It was just listening to each other; me knowing that you were wanking and joining in. Or the other way around.”

I shrugged, and said, “We’re adults now. We’re not so hung up about stuff…” My tone was dismissive, like I was being totally casual about this. In truth I was really desperate for us to do this together. I could feel myself breathing more quickly, my stomach turning over at the thought of it.

Then he said, “But I’m gay. I guess you know that.”

I looked into his blue eyes. He was looking at me intensely.

I nodded. I was so pleased that he’d finally told me that; and especially that he’d told me now.

He held my gaze and asked, “Doesn’t it worry you that you might turn me on… that I might get off on looking at your cock?”

I laughed gently. “You’ve seen it for years. Since we were kids. If you were gonna get off on it, you’d have done so a long time before now…”

He didn’t respond to that. He maintained his serious look and then looked back down at my briefs, as if assessing his own reaction to looking at my cock. I respected him – more than that, I felt overwhelming affection for him – for telling me this before we did anything together. He didn’t want me to find out afterwards and for me to feel like he’d taken advantage of me.

I decided to be bold; to try and dispel his doubts. After all, I had none. I said, “To be honest, Gazz, I don’t care if you get off on looking at me. I don’t mind admitting that I’m getting off on the idea of us having a wank together..”

“But we’re brothers…”

“Yeah, okay. I guess it’s a bit taboo and stuff, but we’ve done it for years and it’d be kind of cool to do it again…”

He smiled and nodded slowly. I’d convinced him.

I thought I’d get things started. I pulled my cock out from my briefs, and retracted my foreskin back fully to reveal my purple glans. The skin of the shaft looked unnaturally white in contrast to the dark red of my briefs and the purple of my bell-end.

Gareth stared at it. “How long is it? I mean, if you’ve measured it…”

I laughed. “We’re in our twenties, Gazz. I think it’s time to put the ruler away, mate.”

He laughed too. “Yeah yeah yeah. I’m just kind of curious about how we compare. It looks about seven or eight inches from here…”

“You being the expert…”

He grinned wickedly. “I’ve seen a couple or so I could compare it with…”

I rolled the foreskin back over the head of my cock, puckering the end of it up so that it looked like lips in a theatrical kiss. It looked kind of cute. Then I rolled it back again revealing the large purple bell-end again, moist and glistening.

I said, “I think it’s eight inches. I dunno. One of my exes said she’d measured it in my sleep…” I shrugged.

He smiled and then pulled his own larger cock out from the sagging material of his briefs. He immediately withdrew his own foreskin, rolling it back from his swollen red glans.

I guess I was wide-eyed because he burst out laughing.

I pretended to laugh back but I knew couldn’t disguise my awe and envy. “How the hell did you end up with such a monster cock?”

He said, “Did you ever see Dad’s?”

“I don’t think so… I never really looked out for it.”

“I once walked in on him in the bathroom. It was early one morning and he’d just got up. Had a morning stiffie, I guess. He was standing waiting for the shower to warm up and I walked in. His cock was fucking huge. Bigger than mine, easily.”

“Jesus.”

I felt kind of intrigued: I’d never suspected Dad as concealing a python down his trousers. But then, as I’d said to Gareth, it’d never been something I’d looked out for…

Gareth concluded, “So I guess it’s genetic.”

“I guess.”

Gareth rolled his foreskin forwards and then back again. Unlike me, though, he didn’t stop at that. He kept going, slowly pushing it forwards over his bell-end, and then retracting it again. Gently masturbating his cock in front of me.

I sat up a bit and reached down for my briefs. “I’m gonna need to pull these off. I don’t like to feel confined while I’m wazzin’…”

As I pulled them off, Gareth took his hand off his cock and did likewise. “Good idea.”

I threw my briefs to the floor and changed positions so that I was in front of Gareth, kneeling on the mattress. My cock curved upwards and my balls hung down beneath it, swinging low in their scrotum.

Gareth pulled his briefs off over his feet and looked over at my erection. He said, “Nice…”

As he threw them to the floor I started masturbating with a moderate rhythm. It felt good to hold my cock properly, to squeeze it in my fist and to feel my foreskin gently caressing my bell-end as it rolled back and forth across it.

Gareth sat back against the wall, his arse on my pillow, and opened his legs wide in front of him. His scrotum looked tight and wrinkled, his large balls held firmly inside it and making a pair of solid-looking bulges. He grabbed his dick inside his fist and began gently tugging at his foreskin, rolling it a couple of centimetres over the head of his cock and then retracting it back again. Short, slow jerks while he watched my hand on my cock.

I said, “I always wanted to do this when we were younger.”

He kept staring at my cock as if fascinated by it. His hand just kept up its slow rolling and unrolling of his foreskin against his bulbous red cock head. He asked, distractedly, “What?”

“This. The two of us wanking in front of each other…”

He smiled. “You should’ve asked…”

“I thought you’d have been embarrassed. You used to get uptight when I mentioned anything sexual.”

“Yeah, maybe. But if you’d have suggested it I’d have been up for it. Probably up for us doing a few more things…”

I was surprised by what he said and my cock swelled larger within my hand at the idea.

He looked up at my face, his expression now serious.

I said, “Like what…?”

He looked down at his dick and seemed irritated. “I can’t get into this. I need some lube. My cock gets really dry and it hurts when I try to wank unless I’ve got some lube.”

His cock did look a bit sore. The base of his bell-end, the thick ridge on it where it joined to the stem of his cock, was an angry red colour and the top of his foreskin was bright pink.

I said, “Yeah, I’ve got some KY somewhere.”

I stood up and walked over to the little cupboard under my sink. My cock stood out in front of me, curving upwards like a horn.

I turned to ask Gareth if that would be okay and saw that he was staring at my arse.

He looked up at my face and nodded, looking a little embarrassed to have been checking out his little brother’s butt.

I turned back to the cupboard and grinned. I’d give him a little show, something to whet his appetite.

Instead of kneeling down to look inside the cupboard as I would normally have done, I sort of half-squatted and bent over so that Gareth could get a better look at my arse. I have a nice backside, even if I do say so myself, and I was sure he wouldn’t miss the opportunity to look between my cheeks while I was bending over.

I reached in for the KY and knocked a few cans of deodorant over to prolong things. I squatted further and bent forwards to pick the cans up and felt the air of the room on my exposed anus. I looked underneath myself to check if Gareth was looking, but I couldn’t see his face. I could see his legs outstretched on my mattress and his cock standing upwards with his fingers on its stem.

I tried to work out what Gareth could see of me. I saw that my balls hung low between my wide open legs, swinging gently in my pendulous scrotum as I fumbled around with the cans. He couldn’t really miss them. My cock stood upwards, throbbing almost against my stomach, out of his view.

His brother’s open buttcheeks, his brother’s tight pink little arsehole, his brother’s long dangling balls hanging down between his legs. That’s what Gareth could see.

I set the cans upright and stood up with the KY. Then I walked back over to the bed, noticing that Gareth was still staring at the place I’d been squatting, his expression vacant, gently working his fingers up and down the length of his thick veined stem.

He said, distractedly, “You ever been fucked?”

“No.”

He looked up at me and then looked a little embarrassed by his question. Like we both knew exactly what had been running through his mind while he’d looked over at me.

I knelt on the bed in front of him and squirted some KY onto my palm. Then I added, with a smirk, “At least, not yet…”

I leaned over and rubbed some of the cold jelly around the broad red head of his cock. I didn’t even offer him the chance of doing it for himself: I wanted to do it for him.

I said, “What’s it like?”

He winced. “Freezing.”

“No. What’s it like to be fucked?”

He grinned. “Oh right. I guess it depends on the other guy. If he’s built like me then it hurts like hell. Actually, I don’t really like getting screwed by guys with thick cocks. We tend to stick to sucking and stuff…”

My own cock strained at what I was hearing. It was really exciting listening to Gareth talk about what he got up to; the way he was so open about it. I guess he’d decided there was no reason to be coy with me: when you’ve got your younger brother rubbing lube onto your dick, it’s hardly like you’re going to get uptight about sex talk.

I squirted another gob of KY onto his swollen glans. Despite the coldness, it never stopped throbbing; never wavered from being totally hard.

I started stroking the jelly down the shaft of his cock, smearing it along the thick rod, making it slick and shiny.

He continued, “The best cocks for screwing are a bit thinner. Not too thin or else they don’t touch the sides.”

I laughed and kept rubbing the jelly up and down his length, squeezing more firmly to take of his foreskin with it.

I said, “How thick is best?”

He answered as I expected him to. “About as thick as yours.”

I looked up at him and kept rubbing his slick foreskin, working it at a gentle rhythm up and down the thick shaft of his dick.

I grinned. “I’ve got the right sized cock for fucking butt, then?”

“For fucking my butt.”

My grin evaporated. I couldn’t help but look serious at the directness of what he’d said.

He explained, “I mean, not all guys like thinner cocks – it’s just my personal preference. A lot of men like getting fucked by me. Actually, one guy said I wasn’t thick enough. He had an arsehole like a fucking tunnel entrance.”

I smiled and kept rubbing his cock, by now obviously masturbating it. He didn’t resist and didn’t seem too bothered about taking over. In fact, he looked like he was enjoying it. Enjoying our chat; enjoying having me wank him off. He smiled slightly, his eyes looking content.

He said, “I think it’s just me – I have a really tight arse. You do too.”

I looked up at him again, my hand speeding up on his cock.

He grinned. “Well, you must have. That has to be a genetic thing.”

I said, “Yeah, I guess. I dunno. I like fingering it sometimes. That’s not too difficult…”

He said, “A cock’s a lot bigger than a finger…”

I looked back at his cock, at his foreskin covering and then uncovering his almost egg-sized bell end as I wanked him, and said, “Some more than others…”

He smiled and then urged me to move forwards, towards him. “You’re not getting much out of this…”

I said, “I’m getting a lot out of this.” But did as he suggested.

He reached forwards and grabbed my cock in his hand.

“Do you want me to lube you up?”

I shook my head. “I like it dry. Lots of friction.”

Our eyes met and we grinned at each other. Then he started slowly jerking my foreskin along my shaft. It felt a bit odd to have someone else’s hand on my cock; his technique was unfamiliar, his finger’s squeezed it in strange places. But I was incredibly aroused by what we were doing: this was Gareth’s hand and I think he could have played with it like it was a flute and I’d have still enjoyed it.

He said, smiling and half-closing his eyes as we pleasured each other, “So my little brother fingers his arse sometimes?

I smiled back. “When the mood takes him.”

His hand gripped my cock more firmly and started masturbating me more quickly. I moved my hips gently in the same rhythm and felt my balls dancing around between my legs, occasionally jumping up to rub against his wrist.

He said, “I’m surprised you’ve never tried having a guy fuck you if you enjoy fingering yourself. Surprised you’ve always stuck with girls…”

“I can’t say I haven’t thought about it…”

“Have you ever had the chance?”

I considered. “Yeah… I guess… a couple of guys have come onto me…'”

“Weren’t you ever tempted?”

“I dunno… yeah… maybe… I was just scared it would hurt… that they wouldn’t stop if it did…”

“Do you think you might try it one day?”

I was masturbating him quickly now, and he was following my rhythm on my own cock. The sounds my hand was making on his jelly-slick shaft, a slurping sliding sound, seemed loud in the brief silence that followed his question.

After a few seconds I said, “Yeah. I mean, if there was guy I trusted one-hundred percent and he was prepared to put up with me saying ‘no’ at the last minute…”

Gareth looked straight at me, his expression intense. His eyes searched my face; I knew what he was looking for.

He said, “Even if the guy had a thick cock… even if it might hurt you…”

I looked back at him. We both knew what this was about; what I was agreeing to.

“Yeah. As long as I knew he’d be gentle. As long as I knew him well enough… it wouldn’t be something I’d do with some guy who’d come onto me in a club or wherever…”

Our hands were a blur on each other’s cocks.

He said, starting to breathe quickly, almost panting, “Someone from way back, Seb. Someone who’s known you since you were a kid… someone who’d go limp if he thought he was hurting you for a second… someone who would take it as slowly as you liked…”

As he was speaking, I moved forwards so that my arse was above his sticky slick cock. I kept masturbating him but moved downwards, feeling his wet cock head pressing between my cheeks, working it towards my hole.

Gareth kept talking, through rapid breaths, kept reassuring me. “Just tell me, Seb… just tell me if it hurts… just one word…”

When I felt his hot, round bell-end pressing against my anus, I pushed very slightly down. My hole resisted the intrusion, clamping up.

Gareth said gently, “I don’t wanna sound disgusting…” He paused to breathe in; he was struggling for breath like he’d been under water for a couple of minutes. “Just pretend you’re taking a crap… just relax your arse muscles like your crapping…”

I felt a bit embarrassed to have him say that to me. It’s not the kind of thing that I’m used to hearing from my brother.

But I did as he said and felt a centimetre so of his broad cock head push my ring open and enter me. I gasped with the pain; with the burning sensation of having my hole invaded by him.

He kept talking, his voice soothing, caring. “This is natural Seb… it’s right for us to be doing this… it’s right that it should be me… that it’s me on your first time…”

He must have felt my cock limpening. The pain was so intense that it was an automatic reaction. He took his hand off it and then, with both hands, started caressing my arms, my sides and my chest; gently stroking my skin, lovingly running his fingers over my body.

I kept holding his cock and pushed my arse downwards a little more. Another centimetre of it entered me and my ring widened further to accommodate more of the broad girth of his bell-end. It felt enormous, like I was trying to get a traffic cone up my arse.

He was saying, “Just relax, Seb… just try to relax… you can take it… the worst part’s over…”

I wasn’t sure that that was entirely true, but I tried to relax myself.

I closed my eyes and gasped for breath. When the pain subsided, I pushed downwards again and felt another centimetre or so enter me. This time it wasn’t so painful. The widest part of his cock was already inside me.

I looked down at him. He was staring at me, scanning my face for any signs that I couldn’t take it. That made me feel a bit better; he knew what he was doing. Like when we were kids, Gareth would look after me.

I pushed down a bit further and this time about an inch of him slid into me. I gasped with the feel of it entering my bowels, penetrating my guts. It was so hot, like a poker. The pain was excruciating.

He said, “You okay, Seb? Just let me know…”

I closed my eyes and panted for breath.

He kept on at me, “Seb, mate, are you okay? What’s up?”

I struggled to open my eyes against the pain. I looked down at his face: he looked so concerned, so alarmed. He seemed so worried about me that I smiled.

I said, “Jesus. I see what you mean about gay guys who don’t like you to fuck them…”

He maintained his anxious expression. His deep blue eyes stared up at me. “Do you want me to pull it out? You’ve gone totally limp, Seb. What do you want me to do?”

I laughed. “Come on, Gazz. Calm down. It’s not like I’m in agony. It just takes some getting used to.”

“How’s it feel though? I mean, does it feel wrong? If it does, I’ll pull it out.”

I laughed again. His face was so appealing, so upset by the fact I wasn’t able to instantly enjoy this.

I said, “It hurts like fuck as if you hadn’t realised. But I’ll go with it. I’m not giving up just yet.”

He continued to stare up at me. “But does it feel… you know… ‘wrong’?”

I laughed again. “No! It feels good, Gazz. You know – natural.” It actually felt slightly weird, being perched above my brother’s erect cock, slowly pushing myself down onto it. My own cock was now almost totally limp and hung down over my balls looking about four or five inches long.

Gareth didn’t look convinced so I tried to help him out a bit. “Look, mate. If I’d have had to choose a guy to be the one to fuck my arse first, it would have always been you. Even before I knew you were gay.”

That seemed to please him. He smiled and I felt his cock stiffen inside me.

I said, “Whoa… that felt good!” I’m not sure that it did, but the fact I said it did seemed to help relax him.

He grinned broadly, exposing his beautiful white teeth. “Yeah, it’s a nice feeling isn’t it? Feeling a guy’s cock move around inside you…”

His cock seemed to swell again and I realised how desperately he wanted to fuck me. He knew it wasn’t exactly a typical “brotherly” thing for us to be doing, and as the elder of us probably felt more guilty that he’d allowed us to get into this. But his cock was rock hard inside me, his eyes were alive with excitement and his cheeks flushed a deep scarlet. He was getting what he’d fantasized about for years: his little brother’s arse feasting on his cock.

I pushed down again and another inch or so slid into me. We both heard me fart and I felt embarrassed.

I said, “Jesus. Sorry, mate.”

Gareth kept caressing my sides, from under my armpits down to the sides of my buttocks. He whispered, “Don’t worry about it. It happens.”

He held my hips and gently eased me another inch or so down onto his cock.

My arse made another noise and I guess I went a bit red. I said, “Sorry… I can’t help it…”

Gareth smiled and kept caressing my arse cheeks, from inside my hot sweaty cleft to the smooth skin of my hips. He whispered, “It’s your arse, Seb… it’s gonna do that. Don’t even think about it… it’s just something that happens when two guys fuck…”

He gripped my hips again and pushed me down further, impaling me onto his cock. I gasped with the sensation of it entering me, widening me. It felt like most of it was inside me and I reached down to find out.

I pushed my fingers beneath my balls and felt the thick, wet rod of Gareth’s cock poking straight upwards from his bush of short curly pubes. I followed it upwards, feeling the slick veined stem pressing between my arse cheeks, and realised that about five inches of it wasn’t yet inside me. I reached further upwards and felt my anus, stretched tight around his shaft, gripping his cock like a tiny mouth.

He watched my face as I felt around my invaded hole, obviously amused by my curiosity. He eased his hips upwards, pushing more of his cock into me, and I felt my anus pucker and dilate as it accepted him. It sort of slurped him up, like my arse was sucking in his cock.

He smiled. “Feels weird, doesn’t it?”

I said, “Kind of… disgusting…”

He shook his head but kept smiling. “No. Your arse is beautiful… it could never be disgusting…”

I laughed a little. “I guess you get used to the sights and sounds…”

He said, “It’s not just that. I just couldn’t find your arse disgusting. You’re my brother; it would be like finding my own arse disgusting…”

I thought about that and nodded. We’d known each other all our lives. Messed around together when we kids; when we were teenagers. Nudity and bodily functions were never an issue. Of course we’d be okay about that kind of stuff now. In many ways, we made ideal lovers; we knew each other inside out.

I took my fingers from his cock and he slid another inch or so of it into me.

I gasped and he did too.

His cock seemed to fill my insides: my arsehole was stretched so much that it felt like it would never recover and my bowels were almost excruciatingly hot as they clamped around it. It felt like his cock was reaching up through my body; felt like it was skewering my guts all the way up to my chest.

I pushed down again with a grunt and another fart.

He said, “How’s it feel to do this… to be riding your big brother’s cock…?”

I grinned. “It hurts like fuck… and I don’t think I’ll be shitting right for a few weeks… but it’s okay…”

Gareth smiled and then gripped my hips more firmly. He withdrew an inch or so of his cock from me and then slid it back inside.

I gasped loudly with pain from it.

He stopped and looked up at me, concerned.

I said, wincing, “No… go on…”

He did it again and then again; raising and lowering his hips to fuck my arse as he held it above him. He took up a gentle rhythm and closed his eyes from the pleasure of doing it.

It felt kind of bizarre to be held steady while he lay beneath me and pushed himself in and out of my arsehole, but once I got past the burning sensation of his cock sliding through my bowels, I started to appreciate what we were doing. I felt my cock lengthen a little.

Beginning to pant with the excitement of what we were doing, he whispered, “Now I’m fucking you, Seb… Jesus… it feels so good…”

His rhythm began to increase as he realised I could I take it. His breathing was also quickening and I saw a film of sweat was coating his brow.

I relaxed my arse completely, starting to enjoy the sensation of him sliding in and out of me. The fact that this was Gareth, my older brother, who was enjoying my body so much heightened my pleasure: it was good to see him like this, panting and sweating, in act of brotherly sex. For me to see him like this, and to be the cause of his enjoyment, seemed a natural and essential new dimension to our relationship.

I pushed him down onto the mattress so that his hips fell still and started thrusting my arse up and down on his cock. By now, about seven inches of it must have been inside me and I slammed myself down onto it with rapid, breathless, strokes.

My cock bobbed around in front of me, beginning to stiffen more prominently but still limp enough to dance around and slap my stomach with each thrust.

Gareth gasped, “Ah… Jesus…”

The air between us filled rapidly with a thick, anal odour: the smell of my arse as Gareth’s cock pounded in and out of it. It was musky, sweaty and mildly pungent. I looked down at Gareth but he seemed oblivious: maybe this was normal when guys were having sex; maybe he just didn’t regard it as an issue.

Gareth started thrusting upwards again, in time with my own rhythm. His balls kept touching my arse cleft as he pushed into me; mine kept banging down onto his stomach as I slammed downwards onto him.

Gasping for breath, he grunted, “I’m not gonna last much longer…”

I looked down at him and saw that he was staring at my cock, now almost fully hard and arching upwards again.

He reached for it and began masturbating it quickly and clumsily. Despite his roughness, it brought a new edge my pleasure.

He managed to blurt out, his voice almost a whisper, “I always wanted to do this… ever since we were kids… I used to dream about fucking you… I used to feel so dirty about it…”

I pushed his hand aside and started masturbating myself, using long rapid strokes to milk the pleasure from my cock. It seemed to change the sensation of him being inside me: the pain seemed to disappear and my arse felt cosily and comfortably full with his cock rather than feeling as if it was being invaded by him. It actually began to feel nice.

I asked, through my own panting, “When… when did you dream about it…?”

“All the fucking time… from about fourteen… I thought there was something wrong with me… I used to get a hard on… from just touching the seat of a chair… where you’d been sitting…”

I laughed. I was enjoying hearing this: I’d had no idea.

He struggled to continue as his orgasm neared. “And your cock… I was fucking… obsessed by it… I wanted you to fuck me… I was fucking desperate for it…”

“I could get into that…”

“You and me, Seb… we’ll do it… you’ve gotta fuck me…”

I had an image of the two of us together again: this time I was on his back, bent over him, with my arms around his chest and my cock banging in and out of his arse. Him feeling his brother’s cock filling his insides; feeling the heat of my semen splashing into him. Him feeling what I was feeling now.

My cock started spurting a fountain of cum as Gareth grunted and bucked beneath me in his climax. Mine splashed over his chest, from his neck to his stomach, as I felt his dribbling down the insides of my thighs.

Even when I felt my orgasm subsiding I kept using my arse to milk his cock, still pushing myself up and down on him until I felt his squirting cease completely and his cum stopped trickling out of me.

When we’d both stopped, after we’d spent ourselves, I just sat on top of him, feeling the texture of his cock begin to change inside, and we looked at each other.

Then we laughed.

He said, “I can’t believe we did that…”

I pulled myself off his cock and we both heard a sloppy farting sound from my arse as it withdrew from me. By now I wasn’t at all embarrassed.

I got off the bed and smiled at him. “It was your fault. You’re the elder. I’m just young and impressionable, just doing what my big brother tells me.”

His face became serious. “Don’t say that. It’s not funny.”

“Come on, Gareth. You know I don’t think that. We were both up for it.”

I walked over to my sink and pulled a tissues from the box. I threw them over to him so he could wipe my semen from his chest.

He sat up and threw me an intense look. “We shouldn’t have done it. You’re right. I should have stopped us.”

“Come on, Gazz. I have absolutely no regrets and I’m the one who’s supposedly straight…”

He wiped a few splashes of cum from his neck. “Yeah. That’s the point. I’m gay. I led it. It’s my fault.”

“It’s no-one’s fault. There isn’t a ‘fault’ -”

The door opened and Thomo came in. We hadn’t remembered to lock it; hadn’t even thought about it.

He said, “Jesus it stinks in here. What the fuck have you guys been up to?”

I snapped at him. “Can’t you fuckin’ knock?”

He looked over at Gareth, sitting up on my bed and wiping the cum from his chest, and laughed. “Have you been wazzin’ off?”

Gareth just glared. I think I threw him a fairly dirty look too.

Thomo tried to appease us. “No, no – I’m not… like… having a go. I just think it’s cool that you guys are so laid back around each other. It just makes me wish I had a brother…”

I crouched down to put the KY and stuff back into the cupboard and said, “Yeah. Gazza’s had a wank. That’s what the smell is…”

Thomo shook his head. “Naah. It’s kind of a shitty smell… like someone’s arse.” Then he laughed and said, in a headmistress voice, “What has been going on in here?” His laugh died off into silence and sounded vacuous; irritating.

I pushed him aside to pull a pair of fresh briefs out of my drawer. Gareth finished wiping himself off and stood up.

Thomo said, “Anyway, I just came in to tell you Kaz phoned. She said you must have your mobile switched off.”

I muttered, “Oh yeah” and bent over to pull on my briefs.

Thomo continued, “I told her I’d get you to -”

He stopped talking and I turned to see what was up. He was staring at my arse. I realised he could see my arsehole and how it must look. It felt huge as if it was gaping open like a wound. It probably looked like the arsehole of the guy with the tunnel who Gareth had mentioned earlier.

Thomo looked at my face. He looked embarrassed. I guess I did to.

I pulled on my briefs and turned to face him.

He said, “Anyway, I said you’d call.”

I nodded. “I’ll have a shower first.”

I picked up some things and headed off to the shower. Thomo followed me into the bathroom.

He closed the door and asked, “Are you all right?”

I said, “Why do you ask?”

“You’ve got blood on the back of your briefs. And down the tops of your thighs.”

I tried to look impassive but I felt my face get hot as my embarrassment became uncontainable. I said, “I’ve got a problem – a medical thing. I’m taking pills.”

He nodded.

I went on, “It’s totally embarrassing -”

He interrupted me, “Yeah, sorry… I wouldn’t have said anything but -”

I said, “Don’t mention it to anyone… I’m getting it seen to… it’s getting a lot better…”

“Good.” He paused and then laughed again. “For a minute there I thought you guys had been shagging or something…”

I threw him a disgusted look and snapped, “Come on, Thomo. He’s my fucking brother…”

He threw me a strange look. Like I’d over-reacted. “Yeah. Just my little joke, you know…”

I realised that I looked like I was being too uptight about things and so pretended to laugh. It looked about as convincing as the ‘pills’ story had been.

While I was showering, Gareth came into the room and shouted over through the closed curtain that he was going.

I asked, “Going where?”

“Going back to London.”

“Don’t be daft, Gazz. You haven’t even showered.”

There was a pause and then he said, “I feel a bit screwed up, Seb. About what we did. And that wanker knows. You could tell.”

I rinsed my hair and turned off the shower. Then I grabbed my towel and put it around my waist. Looking back, I don’t know why I did that: after what we’d just done it was odd that I so quickly became uncomfortable by the idea of being naked around him.

I opened the curtain and looked at him. He looked really upset; not like he’d been crying or anything, just deeply troubled and very serious.

He said, “We shouldn’t have done that. We’re fucking brothers…”

“Yeah, that’s the problem.” I laughed but he didn’t.

I wiped any signs of amusement from my face. He wasn’t in the mood.

I said, “Look, Gazz. It’s no big deal.”

“But it is a big deal. It’s a fucking big deal. It’s not what people do, Seb. It’s not what brothers do. You don’t turn up to a family reunion and expect to find your uncles screwing each other in the gents…”

The door opened and Kaz peered in. She said, “There you are – I’ve been trying to call.”

I guess we both looked stunned.

She smiled. “Well, aren’t you going to ask how I am?”

Gareth and I both said, “How are you?” together. Mechanically, like a couple of robots who’d been commanded to do so.

She laughed, perhaps a little uncomfortably, and said, “A lot better, actually. I needed some stuff, Seb. I tried to call. Anyway, I went out to get it myself.”

I said, “We weren’t up…”

She looked at her watch. “It’s three o’clock… what were you guys doing last night…?”

Gareth said, “Look – I’ve gotta go…”

Kaz looked upset. “But we didn’t really meet. Not properly. You can hang around for a couple of hours, can’t you?”

Gareth shook his head. “Not really. Something came up. A mate in London. A problem. I’ve gotta go…”

Kaz looked over at me. I nodded. “Yeah – it’s something important. I’m just gonna walk him down to the station…”

Kaz said, “Come on, Seb. I think your brother can find his own way to the station.”

Gareth looked at me. I said to Kaz, “Yeah, but, you know… it’s his first time in Southampton…”

Kaz turned to Gareth and asked him, “Do you really need Seb to hold your hand or can you remember the way?”

Gareth smiled and said, “I’ll be fine. I better go.” He turned and walked out.

I ran out after him; he was already at the door of the flat. “No, wait. I’ll get ready and show you where to catch a bus. It’ll save you walking…”

Kaz interrupted. “Come on, Seb. I think Gareth can just about look after himself.”

I turned to her, about to say something, and heard Gareth leave through the door.

I wanted to get ready and go after him but Kaz kept going on at me about why I’d switched off my mobile and why I hadn’t woken up until so late in the afternoon. In the end, I thought I’d leave him to his own devices. It might be best to give him a bit of time to cool off. That’s what I thought.

I tried to call him later that evening but one of the guys in his house said he’d got back and then gone out again.

I tried again the following evening and the guy who answered said he’d go and fetch him. But, after a delay of a few minutes, the guy came back onto the line and said that, while he’d thought he’d seen Gareth come in he had, in fact, been mistaken. Sorry.

I didn’t manage to see him, or even speak to him, throughout the summer. During the fortnight in July I went home, Gareth apparently decided to go up to visit his mate in Newcastle and so wasn’t around at all.

I sent him a postcard from Benidorm, where I went out for a holiday. I just wrote, “Hope we’re still mates, Gazz. Miss you a lot – hope you can get in touch. Seb.” I didn’t get a reply.

I didn’t hear from him during my next term at Uni and by then was starting to think he really didn’t want anything more to do with me.

But then, that following Christmas, it proved to be impossible for him to avoid me. And that’s where the story continues…

 

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