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*Attention: At time of sexual activity, all characters in this story are depicted as being at least 18 years old. Story contains gay male content.*
I feel him enter me, and I squeal with delight. I look up into his face, into those pretty eyes, and fall in love with him all over again. My hands behind his back, I pull him down towards me so that our chests press together, our cheeks touch, and my penis first jabs, and then slides against, his stomach. He slowly pushes all 8 inches of himself into me and I moan.
He raises his head a little so that his lips hover right above mine, and a moment later he bends a little to kiss me. His tongue dashes out of his mouth into mine, slamming against my teeth and then meeting my own tongue. I love the taste of him. And I love being full of him, his penis just lodged there all the way down to the root. In a moment he will pull it out until everything but the tip has been removed—and then he will push it in a second time, this time faster.
I slide my hands down his muscular back as we kiss. I go all the way down to his firm butt and try to squeeze him with both hands, one hand on each cheek. I trace his crack and find his anus, which I rim with one finger on one hand while I pry him open with my other hand. I push my finger into him.
Our kisses halt and he raises his head again so that it hovers right above me, his eyes sparkling in the dim light.
“I love you,” I say softly. Behind his back, I push my finger deeper into him.
“I love you too,” he replies.
“I love feeling you inside of me like this,” I say, closing my eyes.
“You’re so warm.”
Again our lips meet, except this time he just slides his tongue deep down into my mouth and leaves it there. We both stop moving and just lay there against each other—in each other. I feel so close to him, as if our bodies have really become one. I feel his love for me seeping into me through the damp skin he presses against me. We are one at this moment. I feel a tear fall down my cheek, and then another. This is all just so beautiful!
Then the moment is over and furious passion—coming from both of us, equally—replaces that tender wholeness. I suck on his tongue as, below us, he pulls his penis out of me only to ram it back into me a couple moments later. I let go of his tongue and let out another long moan, and then a second moan as he pounds into me a second time. I raise my hips as high as I can so that I can rock them back and forth a little in an effort to rub my penis against his stomach. Meanwhile, I imitate him—with much less force, of course—by pounding my finger far up into his anus, removing it almost all the way, and then pounding it in again.
“Yes!” I scream, as he goes quicker and quicker. “Yes, oh yes, yes!” He just grunts each time he slams himself into me, in between chaotic breaths. I feel myself reaching orgasm so I slide my finger out of his anus and clutch his ass cheeks as hard as I can. At the same time, I press my penis up against his stomach as hard as possible. A moment later and I am cumming, squirting the hot, salty liquid onto both of our stomachs. I am overcome with pleasure, feeling its intense fire all over my skin and in my anus, where he is still pounding. I feel him reaching climax. His cock pulses powerfully as his semen fills my bowels. With one last grunt he collapses on top of me so that our cheeks are together again.
“Oh, baby,” I say, gasping. “Oh, baby, baby!”
Slowly, we both regain control over our breathing. We still lay like that, him on top of me with our cheeks touching—but his penis slides out of my anus and I feel his cum oozing out of me. I can smell it—his and mine—in the air around us. My penis, too, has started to go flaccid. I caress him gently all across his back, again sliding my way down to his butt for a good squeeze.
“Baby, I . . . words can’t express how good that was,” I say, and kiss him on the cheek a few times.
He raises his head again and looks down at me. I again lose myself in those big, beautiful eyes of his. I wrap my legs around him at the waist and smile.
“Hey, bro” I say, and giggle.
“Hey,” he replies, and bites his lip.
“So . . . um . . .” I start, and giggle again. I hug him as tightly as I can, my limp, wet penis rubbing up against him again.
“You are so beautiful,” he says now, looking down at my lips, then my neck, and then down at my chest, before returning to look up into my eyes again. “I can’t believe . . . I can’t believe that this is real . . . I can’t believe that I am in love with my little brother.”
I giggle a third time and yell out, “You better believe it, you jerk!”
He lowers himself and plants a soft, tender kiss on my lips.
“I love . . . love you, Tay,” he tells me, his voice a whisper. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you . . . Now I can’t imagine life without you.”
I again feel a tear fall down my cheek as joy swells within me. I say, “I feel the same way about you, bursa escort Tanner baby.”
After a few more minutes like that he raises himself so that he is on his knees in front of me. I look down at his penis, stick out my tongue, lick my lips, and say, “Mmm!” I glance up at his eyes and we both laugh. He looks down at my penis but he doesn’t just look! He scoots back a little and then lowers himself and sticks out his tongue. I feel it against the tip of my penis. He puts the whole thing in his mouth and sucks and licks it a little. Finally, he lets go and slowly brings his lips to mine again for a kiss. I taste my own cum in his mouth.
“Mmm again!” I joke, just after we stop kissing.
He lay down next to me so that my back is against his chest. He wraps his arms around me and we enjoy another one of our tender moments, cuddling up against the head of the bed. On the bureau on the other side of the room, the candle we lit a couple of hours before is still burning softly, filling the room with a dim light.
“Well, sweetheart,” he says. “I am dog tired. So, see you tomorrow?”
I turn my head so that I can give him a long goodnight kiss. After that he stretches himself out a little more so that he can be more comfortable in the bed. It is a comfortable bed though. I much prefer it to the one in my own apartment. I reach down to grab a sheet and pull it up around us. Moments later I hear him begin to breathe very deeply, the deep breaths of sleep.
I feel such gratitude. I am so lucky to have snagged this wonderful man next to me, despite all that could have prevented it from happening—particularly that persistent, ingrained prejudice against incest that disgusts “normal” people. I have long been of the opinion that there are definitely good reasons to be wary of inbreeding, that is, male and female siblings having children, a father and a daughter, or mother and son. Too many risks. But what is so wrong about what my brother and I are doing at this moment? No risks at all, and so many benefits!
No one would understand, though. Tanner had not even understood, at first. He had had such trouble accepting his feelings towards me—but it truly can be difficult!
I let my mind wander to those early days, to the very beginning of our story. I rehearse it all in my mind, what happened, how I felt about it, what all of it means in the larger sense. I feel as if I am living it all over again, replaying all of it right before my eyes.
So there I was, in my mind’s eye, laying in bed on a cold winter’s evening long ago. I was 9 years old and was trying to catch my breath. I had just woken from a terrible nightmare and was frightened. I glanced at the clock and saw that it was 3:14am, the dead of night. I had heard somewhere that that is when all the ghosts came out. The thought made me shiver.
I sat up and looked across the room towards the other bed, where my older brother Tanner lay sleeping wrapped up in a thick wool blanket. He, too, was only a boy—10 years old. We had always been so close, and I admired him and wanted to be like him. He wouldn’t have been afraid of silly nightmares. I tried as hard as I could to be strong, to be like him . . . but I always failed, and I was failing now.
“Tanner!” I called out weakly.
He didn’t move.
“Tanner! Wake up!” I said again, this time raising my voice a few degrees.
He groaned and looked up at me through the dark. “What?” he said, his voice a little raspy. “What’s going on?”
“I’m . . . I had a bad dream,” I replied. “Can . . . can I come sleep with you?”
Tanner sat up and looked at the clock. “Well . . . I guess. But just this once.”
“Okay,” I called out quickly. I hopped out of bed and stepped lithely towards my brother’s bed, only a few feet away. He scooted over, still sitting up against the pillows. I lay down next to him and placed my head on my half of the pillow. Tanner threw the covers over me and then turned away, so that he was facing the wall on the other side.
“Thanks,” I said. I was so warm beneath the covers, from all the body heat we generated. “Thanks a lot, Tan.”
He just grumbled and promptly fell asleep.
I suddenly felt something for him then, the earliest bud of what would grow, much later on, into a radiant flower. It wasn’t sexual at all. I didn’t know of such things back then. This feeling I felt for him then was something else—or it was, at least, a more intense form of the natural affections that exist between almost all siblings. I still saw him as a brother, as my big brother—but there was something else mixed in with that, something that excited me and made me feel like I was floating above my own body, a slight ecstasy. I didn’t know it then, but it was the first intimations of love, of falling in love.
Despite Tanner’s oft-repeated objections to it, we shared the same bed on many other nights over the next couple years. In fact, at one point I stopped needing an excuse bursa escort bayan for it. I would go back into the room after brushing my teeth and crawl right into bed with him. He would tell me not to hog the covers this time or not to get up so much in the night to use the bathroom, but I think that he enjoyed the close company too all the same.
That all stopped, however, when we moved into a new house and we each got separate bedrooms. We were both pre-teens then and going through puberty. In the following years Tanner would become increasingly good with the young ladies and would lay claim, several times, to having had various interactions of a sexual nature with some of them.
I, on the other hand, was pitiful when it came to interacting with girls. I just didn’t see what the big deal was. Many of them were pretty to me, yes, but none of them really fascinated me. I still tried, and even made out a few times with one girl, but I remained single throughout all of my teen years, and fell into periodic melancholic episodes.
There was something else, too, something that confused me and also that made me feel ashamed from time to time . . . I started to notice how cute my brother was. I would find myself staring at him from the other side of the dinner table, losing myself in his big brown eyes. He would catch me and smirk a little or just avert his eyes or his face and resume talking about whatever it happened to be that he was talking about at that moment.
I was 17 when I first put my thoughts about him down on paper. It had a therapeutic, cathartic affect on me. I started by just writing about my feelings and about specific moments he and I had shared on various days. It was a kind of journal. But it turned into something else when I started pretending that I was writing letters to him—love letters. I would include short poems in some of these letters, and I would tell him how handsome he was and how much I loved him—with all my heart and soul.
However, despite all of this, I still tried to deny, to myself, that I was in love with him. It was wrong for someone to feel this way about his brother. I was, I thought, just confused and going through a weird phase. And I didn’t think that I was gay, really, and he certainly wasn’t—so even if I actually loved him it’s not like it would happen anyway.
But still . . . the intense attraction continued, even after he left for college and then just a year later I left for a college. We were attending different universities in towns that were separated by about 25 miles. I had tried to get into the same university he had been admitted to but I guess that my grades were simply not good enough. I felt sad about that but got along well enough in both the academic and the social environment in which I found myself. I made many friends and went on several dates . . . even though after these dates I would come home, find my secret journal, and either read through old entries or write new ones. I would feel a burning passion in my heart for him and unmistakable stirrings in my groin. I would masturbate to thoughts of him, a practice that had been going on for a long time.
It was all fantasy at this point since Tanner at that time appeared to be totally straight and completely uninterested in me in any way other than as his little brother.
But the fantasy would become an incredible reality, though it would first become a nightmare.
It all began to change one Friday night when I went to visit him for a few days during one of our breaks from class. This was normal for us. We would sometimes go to hang out with his friends, go to a movie together, or just stay home playing video games. This night we were playing video games and had ordered pizza . . . and had bought some fine Irish whiskey, which my brother was just starting to get involved in out of a new interest in expanding his alcohol palate.
“Damn, you win again!” I called out. “How did you become so good at this stupid game, Tan?”
Tanner laughed and put the controller down on the coffee table in front of us. We sat on the couch in the semi dark, playing a first-person shooter game.
“You about done?” Tanner asked. He lifted his glass and took another long sip of whiskey.
“You want to watch a movie or something?” I asked. He had a huge collection of DVDs, many of which I had never seen.
“Sure, let me check,” he said. But before he could get up he somehow lost his grip on the slick glass of whisky and poured the stuff all over his shirt and pants. “Shit!”
“The whisky goes in your mouth, bro, not on your shirt,” I said, smiling playfully. “You see, you missed!” I giggled.
“You little brat,” Tanner replied. “Let me get out of these wet clothes.”
I pulled out my phone and was about to check my email as I waited for him to change—but he stopped me on the spot when he stood up and, in one graceful motion, pulled his wet shirt up over his head. His chest was so beautiful, a piece of art, really. He was a workout escort bursa fanatic so he had done some serious good for his body. I felt a wave of lust pass through my whole being at the sight . . . But it didn’t stop here. To my utter shock and excitement he was unbuckling his belt! He unzipped his pants and pulled them all the way down to the floor. He stepped out of them and bent over to pick them up. As he did, his tight buns, shielded only by his green plaid boxer shorts, were right in front of my face. I wanted to reach out and grab them so badly!
He turned and looked at me. I was looking at his butt but quickly averted my eyes.
“What’s the matter, Tay?” he asked. “It’s hot in here, right?”
“Um, I am okay,” I said, looking up at his eyes. “It is hot in here.”
“Great.” With that, Tanner threw the dirty clothes onto a recliner in the corner and sat down next to me again. He reached forward and poured himself a new whiskey. “You want some more?” he asked, pointing at my glass.
“Um, maybe a little,” I said. I was feeling a bit dizzy at that moment, either from the alcohol or from brother-intoxication. I watched as he poured me another full glass—way more than a little.
“So, a movie?” he asked. “Which one?”
“I don’t care,” I said. “Anything goes.”
He got up again from the couch and went towards the T.V. He bent over, again exposing his ass to my full view, and shuffled through the drawer there below the T.V. I stared at that ass, cataloging every curve, noticing how big and round it was, how beautiful. He called out various movie titles but I wasn’t paying attention. Finally he got frustrated and picked one. I said that I was okay with the pick. He came back to the couch, took another long sip of the whisky, and lay back. He was sprawled out in a comfortable position, right there next to me.
As the movie went on, I took glances at him, at his eyes, his lips, neck, chest, nipples, stomach, that bulge beneath his boxers, his thighs—everything. I imagined what it would be like to kiss every inch of him, to touch his most intimate body parts.
A thought suddenly seized me: I am in love with him, really, truly in love. And love . . . love was worth the risk, any risk, even the risk of losing a brother and a best friend. I decided then and there that I would attempt it, go for the impossible . . . But how?
Hardly thinking about what I was doing, I took the bottom of my shirt and raised the whole thing above my head so that I, too, was shirtless. Tanner looked over at me, at my chest, and then returned to looking at the movie in front of us. I brought my hands down to my belt, unbuckled it, and unzipped my pants. Again, Tanner looked my way. His eyes went to the zipper I had just unzipped, and then he brought his eyes back up to gaze into my own eyes. I smiled at him, and looked down at my open pants. I awkwardly pushed the pants down my legs and off of my feet so that I, too, was just sitting there in my boxers . . . except I had an erection and so my boxers were tented and the tip of my penis was just a few centimeters from the boxers slit. I looked up at Tanner’s face and saw him quickly averting his eyes, looking again at the T.V. I sat there again for another few moments but soon my arm was stretching out towards Tanner, as if it had a will of its own. My hand fell directly onto his thigh. I felt the coolness of his skin, and it sent shivers down my arm. Tanner looked at the hand, then up at me. His mouth hung slightly open and I noticed that his breathing had gone a little quicker, just then. He swallowed, and then returned to watching the movie. I caressed his thigh with my fingers, steadily sliding some of them down between his legs, just inches away from his groin. My body was in auto-pilot.
I took my hand off his leg and brought it back into my own area of the couch . . . but I then raised my butt and scooted over towards him, all the way towards him. I sat so that our hips were touching. I looked at him and he looked at me. I whispered, “Hey, Tan . . . Remember how we used to sleep in the same bed, when we were kids?”
He nodded and then said, “Uh, yes.”
I took one of his hands in my own and pulled it around me so that his arm lay on my shoulder. I leaned into him so that my back was to his chest. I, again, put my hand on his thigh and began to caress him there all over again.
“Well, I really liked those nights,” I said, louder this time. “You were so much stronger than me, Tan . . . and it was so warm there, with you under the covers. I felt so safe . . . I feel safe now, too.”
I slid my fingers up beneath the bottom of his boxers, pushing towards his groin. That’s when I saw it: his penis was semi hard, and getting harder every second. I turned so that I could look into his eyes. He and I shared a long gaze as one of my fingers finally landed on the now rock hard shaft between his legs. My mouth fell open as I slid my finger all the way up his cock. When I reached the tip, I felt dampness—it was pre-cum.
“Tan, I am in love with you,” I said, in a matter of fact kind of way. “I have been since we were kids. I want you.” I brought all of my fingers up to that big beautiful cock and took it right into my palm.
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