My Brother's Best Friend Fucks Me 2

This story is the property of the author, and may not be reproduced in any form without his permission.

This story is fantasy. All actors are 18 or older, and no suggestion of underage sexual activity is intended or advocated.

The management assumes no liability for stains on clothing or furniture, or for excessive consumption of absorbent paper products resulting from use of this material.

Read previous part

At dinner I could hardly eat, I was so excited, remembering what had happened just a little while before. My big brother Kirk's best friend Tony had made me suck his cock, and I'd loved it. The memory of Tony's big fat cock choking me was like a drug, I couldn't stop thinking about it, and how much I had liked it, even though I'd been afraid at the time. I had loved the way he had straddled me on the bed and fed his big piece of fuck meat to me, made me suck it, spanked me, dominated me.

I'd never been spanked before, and I was surprised how much I had liked it, I had wanted him to keep it up, do it harder. My bare ass being slapped by his hand had made my cock swell and tingle, each slap had made my balls churn and my cock throb and I imagined his hand slapping my bare ass harder and harder and my cock shooting and shooting.

He'd even let me feel his muscles, and said I could do it more. I remembered what it had felt like to rub his big hard pecs and rippled abs, his smooth soft skin, his big hard cock, him fucking my face and telling me how good it felt, me grabbing his balls and squeezing them as he pumped his hot cum into my mouth and I swallowed and sucked and my naked body writhed with ecstasy on the bed, the hard rod of the pestle poking me in that special place, pushing me closer and closer...

And he had asked me to come over to his house the next day, where I was hoping he would shove his big hard cock up my virgin ass and fuck the shit out of me. I wanted Tony to fuck me so bad.

I'd lost one cherry, and was desperate to lose the other. My cock and ass both throbbed with memory and anticipation. I rubbed my ass slowly into my chair as I sat at the table, trying to forget where I was and let my cock get harder and harder and ...

Until I noticed Kirk.

My big brother Kirk was directly across the dinner table from me, and I caught him looking at me strangely a couple of times. I kept telling myself I was just imagining it, that nothing had changed but my awareness. Then my mom spoke, and I nearly swallowed my tongue.

"Has anyone seen my pestle? It's not in the drawer where it belongs. I wanted to grind up the herbs for the roast, and I couldn't find it anywhere. Mort, did you borrow it for something in your workshop?"

My dad had an awesome workshop in the basement, with every tool you could imagine, and he built furniture in his spare time. He was really good at it, and could have taken the place of that guy on TV, any time. He shook his head and gave my mom a disgusted look.

"Now why would I want your pestle, Elizabeth?"

"Well, I don't know Mort, but it's not where it should be. Boys?"

I shook my head as hard as I could, my mouth full of food, my throat locked shut, choking. I glanced over at Kirk, and he was looking at me strangely again, and this time he was grinning.

"Hmm," he said. "You know, I think I DID see it sometime recently. Where was it? Let me think."

All of a sudden I remembered. After Tony left, and I finished cumming, I had jumped up and run into the bathroom that Kirk and I shared. It was between his room and mine, with a door on each side. Kirk wasn't home yet, and once I got there I let the pestle slide out of my ass. I looked at it, and there was nothing on it, so I just dropped it in the sink and turned the water on to run over it while I sat on the john and cleaned myself up with toilet paper, wiping the cum off my belly and crotch hair and cock and fingers. I had cum a lot.

Then I farted, so I wiped my ass, and flushed the toilet and got up and washed my hands. I washed the pestle too, soaping it up carefully, not wanting to leave anything on it to betray my guilty secret. Then I set it on the counter while I wiped my hands. Then...

What had I done next? Had I left the pestle there?

I looked at Kirk, who was pretending to think, but looking at me out of the sides of his eyes. He knew!

"Hmmm. Nope, I can't remember. But I'll let you know if I do, Mom."

Then he winked at me, and my stomach flip-flopped.

"I'm feeling sick," I blurted. "Can I leave the table?"

"Why of course, honey," my mom said comfortingly. "Are you coming down with something?" She reached out and felt my forehead. "You don't seem to have a fever. Maybe you ate too fast, you were stuffing it in like a starving man tonight. I don't know where you boys put all that food. Go lie down, I'll come up and check on you later."

I got up and dashed out, up the stairs, into my room, through the door into the bathroom. The pestle wasn't there on the counter. I ran back into my room. Where would I have set it down? I stumbled around, looking for it. I opened a couple of drawers, getting desperate. Maybe when I got a clean tee shirt, it had fallen into that drawer!

"This what you're looking for, little bro?"

Kirk was standing in the door to the bathroom, waving the pestle at me.

My heart stopped, I gasped, I felt dizzy, I wanted to die. For the second time in the same day I had been caught at something dark and dirty and shameful, first by Tony, now by Kirk. My deepest secrets were being dragged out into the open.

Kirk walked up to me and stopped about a foot away from me.

"You really need to be more careful with your toys, little bro."

Kirk only called me "little bro" when he was teasing me, trying to make me mad. But I was too scared to be mad at him now. I had always assumed that if Kirk ever found out I was a queer he would hate me, beat me up, call me names, tell Mom and Dad. But he was just standing there looking at me, grinning, waving the pestle back and forth slowly.

Kirk reached out with the pestle and touched my chest with it, then slowly drew it down over my chest and abs. When it reached the belt of my pants, it stopped, and he pulled it away, and reached down and rubbed slowly up the inner thigh of my left leg until it reached my crotch, and there he stopped, pressing it into my groin, right against my cock and balls.

"I've seen the magazines under your mattress, Jamie. I've seen the way you look at Tony when he shows off for you. I don't care, but shit, dude, if you're going to do queer stuff like that, at least play it cool!"

I gasped as he dug the pestle into my groin harder and harder. He leaned closer. I was getting a boner now, my cock was swelling in response to the stimulation, and I was starting to have feelings for Kirk that I'd never had before. Sure he was a super jock like Tony, he had big muscles and a big cock, but I'd never wanted him, he was my brother, that would be weird. Now, though, as he started pressing his chest against mine, his hand in my crotch, his hot breath on my cheek, I wanted him.

Kirk grabbed my hand with his and pressed my fingers against his crotch. I could feel his erection, he was hard too.

"Do you want this, little bro? You want to ride my johnson? Do hard cocks make you hard?"

I gasped, letting my big brother press my hand against his boner. I liked it, I couldn't help myself, I let my fingers close slowly over the big stick, feeling it through his pants. I'd never seen his cock hard, but it felt big, long and thick, hard, getting harder.

And Kirk's hand in my crotch was squeezing, rubbing. He had my erection in his hand and was groping it like he wanted it. Was Kirk queer? Did my big brother like guys, too? Our bodies were pressed together, he was groping me, I was groping him, I was dizzy with arousal, wanting his hard teen cock, his awesome muscles, his lips pressed on mine, my mouth sucking his boner, making him cum, swallowing his tool and milking his balls ....

Kirk pushed me away from him roughly.

"God damn!" he snarled at me. "You ARE a cocksucker, aren't you? I've been telling myself it was just a phase, just kid stuff you'd outgrow. But now this!" He waved the pestle at me. He pushed me back towards my bed as he talked angrily to me.

"What were you doing with this, dude? It can't be what I'm thinking, you can't be sick enough to do that. Maybe you just suck on it. Is that it, buddy, do you suck on this, pretend it's some stud's big hard dick?"

I was terrified again now, Kirk had never acted like this before, I could see real fury in his eyes, he was mad, and out of control. I would have yelled for Mom or Dad, but I was afraid what he would tell them, and what they would do.

I shook my head, afraid to admit anything.

"No? What then? Tell me you don't shove this up your butt, Jamie, that would be too sick, too perverted, my little brother can't be that twisted. What - do - you - do - with - it - Jamie?"

I had fallen backwards onto the bed, and Kirk was leaning over me poking me in the chest with the pestle, his eyes wild and crazed.

"Jamie, are you up here dear?"

My mom called out as she climbed the stairs. She had learned by then that it was a good idea to give her teen sons some sort of warning before walking into their bedrooms.

Kirk made a nasty face at me, and shook the pestle at me, and stuffed it into his pocket and walked towards his own room as our mom walked into mine.

"I think he's feeling worse, Mom," he said. "He just told me he feels like vomiting. And it must be catching, because so do I!" He walked into the bathroom and on into his own room and closed the door on that side.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, sweetheart," my mom said, sitting on the bed beside me. "Why don't you take your clothes off and get under the covers and I'll get something to soothe your tummy."

My mom missed having little kids she could baby, I think, when any of us got the slightest bit sick she went into total Florence Nightingale mode, talked to us like we were little boys again, pampered us and soothed us and nursed us relentlessly.

"I'm OK, Mom," I protested. "I feel better now, I have some homework I need to do, forget the medicine, I'll be fine."

"Are you sure, dear?"

"Yes Mom, I'm sure. I'll let you know if I feel bad again. I really do need to do my homework."

"All right, sweetheart. But you'd better go to bed early, you may be coming down with something. I'll check on you again later."

"Great Mom, thanks."

She walked out and I got up and sat at my desk, my heart thumping, my stomach churning. I did feel like I was going to be sick, my head was spinning and my mind was replaying what had just happened with Kirk. What had I said? What had I done? Could I bluff it out somehow, or was I ruined? He said he had seen the magazines under my mattress, and I looked over there fearfully. Were they still there, or had he grabbed them too? Should I move them, try to hide them better? He might still decide to rat on me to Mom and Dad, but without the magazines all he had was the pestle, and a story about finding it on the counter. I could swear he was lying, say I had no idea what he was talking about. I got up and ran to my bed, and dug around under the mattress.

The magazines were gone. I fell on the bed and cried. I might as well kill myself, this was the end of everything, I was now officially, totally screwed.

Eventually I got up and walked into the bathroom and knocked on Kirk's door. He called out "In!" and I opened the door.

Kirk was lying on his bed, leaning against the headboard, reading something.

"So, do you do all this shit with your faggot boy-friends?" he said, smiling meanly at me. He waved one of my magazines, and I could see enough of the cover to tell which one it was. It featured several photosets of pairs and trios of guys sucking and fucking, and was the one I liked least, I preferred solo pictures, guys alone that I could imagine looking at as they showed off for me. There was something too mechanical about the pictures of guys having sex with each other, I couldn't identify with them, there was no story, just sex.

"Please, Kirk," I begged. "Don't tell Mom and Dad. They'd die if they knew. I don't want to be this way, I can't help it, I've tried to like girls, I just don't. Those magazines are no different than the ones you have."

Kirk jumped up then, tossing the magazine on the bed with the rest of my stash of gay porn. He strode over to me and grabbed my shirt like some Hollywood hood and stuck his face in mine.

"Don't you try to compare my pictures of naked girls to that filth!" he snarled. He shoved me away, and turned from me. "You're a fucking pervert!"

He whirled back, facing me, snarling. "Jesus! It makes me sick to think of my little brother doing that sick shit! Who do you do it with? Is it that little faggot Joey?"

My best friend until about two years earlier had been Joey Martin, but once we got into High School we'd drifted apart. He joined the band, while I went out for track. I remembered Joey and realized Kirk was right, Joey was queer too, how had I ever missed that? He'd always wanted to play games that gave him an excuse to get his hands on my body, like mock wrestling, and tying each other up.

"Fuck you, man," I said. "I always respected you, and looked up to you. Now you're just a dumb jock asshole like all the rest. I don't care what you do, tell Mom and Dad, I'm gonna kill myself."

"Yeah, well maybe you should, that would save Mom and Dad the humiliation of knowing their little angel is a pervert!"

That hurt me worst of all, and I ran into my room, slamming the bathroom door on my side behind me, and threw myself on the bed, sobbing.

My mom came hurrying into the room.

"James! What is it? What's wrong, sweetheart?"

I buried my head in my pillow and sobbed, and she patted me for a while, but when I didn't respond, she got up and left. She'd grown accustomed to the peaks and valleys of teen angst, and knew when to leave her boys alone.


Kirk had an early practice the next morning, so he was up and out of the house before I even got up, and I woke to find a grocery bag full of ripped up porn beside my bed, with a note that said "This filth is too disgusting to exist in the same house as me, you'd better be glad I love Mom and Dad too much to tell them about you. Just keep your perverted hands off me, and don't let me catch you doing any thing like last night or I'll kill you myself. Save us all the trouble and die!"

After the night before, I was numb, and what he said bothered me less than the loss of my porn, it had been my secret friend for so long.

At school I stumbled through my classes in a daze. I'm no brain, but I work hard and get pretty good grades, so when I didn't know any of the stuff from the previous night's homework assignment, my history teacher called to me as the class was ending.

"James, is everything all right? You're usually so much better prepared."

"Uh, sorry Mrs. Stephenson. I, uh, I was feeling sort of sick last night." I wasn't used to making up lies, and was glad there was some basis to that.

"All right, but don't slack off!"

"Yes, ma'am."

Gym was a nightmare. I felt like everyone was looking at me, staring and laughing. I was sure Kirk had told everyone about me, and I would be ostracized. I tried running laps with the team, but my heart wasn't in it, I couldn't concentrate, I soon lagged behind. Coach called me over.

"It's OK, Mr. Randal. Your mother called and told me you were sick last night. Take a shower and go home, I want you rested and in shape for the meet next week."

I felt like crying, nobody understood what was happening to me, there was no one I could tell, and when people tried to be nice, I just wanted to shout "FUCK YOU, YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND SHIT!"

But I just told the coach thanks, said I was sorry, I'd do better tomorrow, and walked towards the gym.

I was sitting on a bench in the locker room, stripping my gym clothes off when I felt a hand on my head, and looked up to see Tony grinning down at me.

"Hey, little buddy," he drawled.

I looked around frantically, afraid Kirk was lurking nearby. He'd surely have told Tony, and what would Tony have said? Would he tell about my sucking his cock? I couldn't look up, and felt like crying again. I removed the last of my gum clothes and sat naked on the locker room bench.

Tony sat down beside me. He was fresh from the shower, still dripping, his towel draped around his neck. Any other time I'd have been dizzy with arousal at the closeness of his naked teen sex-god body, but I was almost too upset to even notice. I did feel a flutter of excitement as his naked leg touched mine. But then I looked around fearfully. What if someone saw us? What if they knew what we'd done?

"Hey, Jamie, what's wrong, buddy? I thought you were OK with what happened yesterday."

He put his hand on my bare shoulder and I wanted to throw myself against him and hug him and sob, pour out all my misery and fear.

Instead I just shrugged his hand off and said "It's nothing, I'm OK, leave me alone." I moved away, not wanting his body touching mine. I didn't dare look at him.

Tony pulled his hand away and said "OK, buddy, but I'm here for you if you need me."

I looked at him and tried to smile. I believed him, Tony was someone I could trust, but then I had to look away again before I started to cry.

"Thanks, Tony," was all I could say.

He stood, looming over me ominously. I looked up. He was rubbing his bare hard pecs and groping himself, and I couldn't help noticing that he was starting to throw a rod, his beautiful dark smooth cock was swelling to erection, rising towards my face. If I leaned forward just a little I could lick the purplish head. A drop of water glistened at the tip. I looked up slowly over his six-pack abs, his large hard pecs jutting out like shelves, solid round slabs of muscle, his nipples poking out like little penises that I wanted to suck. I looked up at his face.

"Still on for this afternoon?" he asked, grinning and winking.

In my terror about what had happened with Kirk I had forgotten our date. The afternoon before, as I sat naked and hard-dicked on my bed, with Tony's fresh hot cum dripping out of my mouth, the sexy muscle-boy had told me to come to his house after school today.

"Oh! Uh, sure. I mean, I guess so. Uh, I may have to study." Suddenly the idea wasn't so appealing.

Tony sat back down beside me.

"Hey, Jamie, what's up, little dude? Did I scare you yesterday? I sort of got carried away, but I thought you were digging it. We don't have to do it again if you don't want to. But I sure would like to. I've been wanting you for as long as I can remember, but I wasn't sure if you were ready until I saw the way you were looking at me here yesterday, and the boner you threw, and the way you kept looking at my cock, so I followed you home and watched you bouncing around naked on your mom's couch and I nearly popped my nuts right then you looked so sexy. Then when I saw you looking at porn and jerking off, I figured you were ready. Did I get it wrong? Man, I'm sorry, I'd never do anything to hurt you."

As Tony talked he was rubbing my head, and stroking my bare shoulders. He moved close again, his leg touching mine. He put one hand on my bare thigh, and as he talked he slid it slowly higher and higher on my thigh, rubbing gently, slowly, until it reached my groin, and in spite of my fear and misery my cock started to rise, teen hormones taking control in spite of all else. His thumb slid up under my balls and rubbed the base of my cock, pressing slowly harder against the firm column of my sex, heightening my arousal, and my head swam.

But somehow that heightened my feeling of misery too - a lump was growing in my throat and the more Tony talked the harder it was not to start bawling like a little kid and finally I couldn't hold back, I threw myself against him and started sobbing.

Tony stopped talking and just held me as I cried, and as my tears subsided I choked out the story of what had happened with Kirk. He hugged me as I told him what Kirk had done, what Kirk had said.

"I might as well be dead," I sobbed as I finished.

Tony lifted my face and looked into my eyes earnestly.

"Hey, don't ever say that! Even if Kirk's being an asshole, I'm here for you. And I can help."

"How?" I wailed. I felt so hopeless that nothing Tony said could get through to me, talking about what had happened had made it seem worse. My life was over, I was totally screwed.

"Don't worry," he said. "I've an idea. Promise me you'll come to my place at 4, like we agreed." He was grinning in a sexy way, and I wanted to believe he could help me, I needed to escape from the misery I felt. He was hugging me gently, and I felt safe, protected.

"OK," I mumbled. We separated, and Tony's hand went back to my leg, and resumed its exploration of my groin, rubbing my leg and massaging my balls, then encircling my erection, stroking my cock. I was even more turned on now. My arousal was blanking out the pain I felt, the room was dim, all I could see was Tony's face, his sexy grin, all I could feel was his hand on my cock. He leaned towards me and pressed his lips against mine. We kissed. His other arm wrapped around me and pulled me to him, our chests touched as his tongue pushed into my mouth.

It was my first real kiss. I'd made out with girls, of course, trying to pretend it excited me, but always thinking how much I wished she was a guy. Now I was kissing a real guy, and not just any guy, but my idol Tony, the guy I'd fantasized about for years. His hand was still stroking my cock and my arousal peaked quickly as I gave in to the sensations flooding my naked body, his hands all over me, his mouth on mine, his hand stroking my hard teen cock surely, my whole body filled with ecstasy and I came, gasping and panting, and Tony urged me on - "Yeah, buddy, that's it, hot little stud, shoot that wad, do it, buddy, yeah!"

As I finished cumming and our lips parted I opened my eyes and looked past Tony, suddenly aware of our surroundings again - maybe I'd heard something. Tony looked too. Standing in the doorway was Scotty, the cute, dark-haired towel boy, his shorts pushed down to free his cock, stroking himself as he watched us. He had a surprisingly big one, and it looked even bigger on his slight body, a man-sized piece of meat jutting out big and hard as he worked it urgently. As we watched he came, his body arching, his head thrown back, his hot teen jism shooting out to land on the floor several feet in front of him, a huge load of fresh cum on the tile. We watched as his strokes slowed, and the big spurts of cum turned into dribbles, and his eyes rolled back down and he saw us and grinned shyly, stuffing his still hard cock back into his shorts.

"You'd better wipe that up, buddy, so someone doesn't slip on it and break his neck," Tony said jokingly as he tossed his towel towards the boy. Scotty finished pulling his shorts up, then knelt to mop up his cum as ordered, then scrambled to his feet and fled.

Tony stood and smiled down at me. "You OK now, Jamie? See you at 4?"

I nodded dumbly, my cock still oozing, the memory of his hands on my naked body still fresh, my nuts churning. I picked up my own towel and used it to clean up the mess I'd made cumming all over myself.

Tony walked away to get dressed and I went into the next room to get a fresh towel, tossing the one soaked with my cum into the big canvas bin. Scotty was back behind his counter, and handed me a towel, looking down shyly as he passed it over. I hesitated, and he took that as encouragement, looking up at me briefly as he said "Want to meet me in the store room later?"

Things I had seen before suddenly took on meaning - Scotty and one of the wrestlers going into the store room together, everyone else pretending not to notice. I pictured Scotty on his knees, sucking the athlete's dick, making him cum, swallowing his hot jism as he stroked his own big hard cock to eruption. Or maybe it was the other way around, maybe Scotty got his big cock sucked, or made the sexy stud bend over while he shoved his cock up his ass and fucked him. What else had I been missing? Was everybody queer?

"Uh, no thanks," I muttered. I was still too upset.

Scotty looked disappointed, so I tried to smile. "Some other time," I said. His face brightened as I turned and headed to the showers.

Read next part