A Private Brotherhood Worth Fighting For

NOTE: This is the series edition of the original "Private Brotherhood" short story, exclusively on GayDemon. It has character names, specific locations, extra details, and an extended scene in the first chapter to justify the continuation. The original short story can be found on Nifty, linked from my website.

Phil

On a Sunday night in late August, I lay naked on the bottom bunk in our shared bedroom. The nightlight luminated the small room from the outlet near the door. I stroked my big cock while I waited for my little brother, Paul, to return. I had to edge for as long as I could because the anticipation alone threatened me to come. I used the copious amount of precum I dripped as lube and rubbed the head on occasion just to tease myself. Even though our ranch-style house had three bedrooms, we were forced to share a room because Dad needed the third room as the office/guestroom.

The door opened, and Paul tiptoed inside and gently shut the door. "Phil?" he whispered in his deepish voice.

"Yeah?"

"Mom and Dad are asleep now."

Finally. It had taken them long enough. If only it'd been hot enough tonight to turn the fan on, but the temperature had dropped low enough to make it too cool for that, and Dad especially would gripe about the electric bill. It sucked that we weren't allowed to have a lock on our room door for extra privacy.

Paul came toward me in a silhouette, the nightlight outlining his figure while dusking the actual details. He took his tank top and shorts off, leaving on just his classic-style jockstrap that no one but us knew about, which he had to wash by hand because Mom insisted on doing all our laundry like a devoted homemaker. My cock twitched at his naked presence. His body was slender and toned from being as active as I was from all the baseball we'd played and the swimming we'd done over the years. I was a little taller and broader with a bigger build, and because of that, we fit perfectly in each other's arms since I wasn't too much bigger than he was. Though, I still worked out at the gym with the ambitious goal of bulking up as much as I could.

He climbed on top of me and reached for my lips. We made out for a long time as our typical warmup. We pressed our smooth bodies against each other, and my big cock frottaged with his average-size bulge. Even though I was a total top, I loved it when he was on top of me like this because I was able to caress his smallish bubble butt more easily and play with his trimmed hole. Sometimes, we were dirty freaks because I liked fingering him and having us both suck my finger afterward for a taste of his hot ass. He was always clean whenever we messed around, though, since he douched each time.

I melted so much whenever we kissed. He was my own brother, and I wasn't supposed to feel like this, but stranger things had probably happened. When we'd started messing around back in January, I'd sworn I'd never let my feelings get in the way. But what did I do? Yep, just that. I knew he had a bigger crush on me than whatever it was I felt for him, which I thought was adorable. But it was a problem. We could never be together like that with all the complications that came with an incestuous relationship. He was my own blood, after all.

I broke the kiss and smiled at him like a drunk fool, gazing into his beautiful eyes as blue as Lake Superior, as blue as mine. I frolicked with his hair as dark as mine. Even though we were a year apart at eighteen and nineteen, it was almost like looking in the mirror, just with enough of a difference to tell us apart since we weren't twins. I was the older and dominant brother, yet despite his submissive nature, he had the charm to unintentionally cast me under his intoxicating spell. Oh, yeah, look at that tiny smile creeping up on his pretty lips. He knew he was hot too. He knew I couldn't get enough of him. But that was okay. He couldn't get enough of me.

I still couldn't believe we messed around all these months. It had all started when the power had gone out on a frigid New Year's Day, much to our bad luck to start the new year with. We'd had the idea to sleep on the floor on top of thick blankets with even more blankets to cover us well. While Dad hadn't been crazy about the idea, seeing as how he was annoyingly chauvinistic, Mom had thought it was adorable and had convinced him to accept it, one of the rare times she'd been able to do so.

Later that night, Paul hadn't been able to stop shivering. I'd offered him to snuggle with me as the big spoon, since Mom and Dad wouldn't have to know about it, much to his unusual excitement over it. I'd known since the summer before then that he was gay since he'd come out to me with so much trust at a time when he'd planned to run away. Despite being concerned about his future, I'd begged him to stay and had promised to support him, the first time he'd ever seen me cry. My knowledge of his sexuality had started making both my big and little heads extra curious, filling my head with dirty thoughts that I'd jacked off to countless times.

So, on that night when we'd first snuggled with each other, I couldn't remember who'd started it, but after a long while of his butt close to my crotch, I'd eventually found myself grinding his ass, and he'd gone along with it until I'd come inside my boxers. I'd been nervous as hell the whole time, but I'd also been too horny to care that we were brothers. His gentle moans and his repeated "yeah" in a tone of desire had told me he'd loved it. From that moment on, here we were, having gradually progressed to full-blown sex.

Paul gave me one last kiss. Then, he moved his lips to my cock and placed them over the leaky head. He gave it a few gentle sucks and swirled his tongue around my piss slit, showing so much hunger for me. I still wondered if he'd really been joking the few times he'd said he worshiped me, my body, and my cock, and that he'd submit to me for life if I wanted him to. I didn't mind that. In fact, I was still flattered by the memory of it. I'd actually searched about it online a few times, and the results had led me to loads of BDSM and kink stuff that I'd never heard of, including the Dominant and submissive lifestyle roles. Because it had turned me on in unexpected ways, I'd told myself never to browse that stuff again to avoid getting ideas, even though the occasional fantasy still spawned inside my mind.

Paul continued sucking my cock, unable to control the slurping because of my girth. Would he eventually do this to other guys? It was probably bound to happen at some point. How many guys would he hook up with? Would he turn into a cock-hungry slut? I had to admit that it made me feel a little uneasy thinking about the possibility of other guys using both of his holes. They were mine to use whenever I wanted, but not forever, which I had to accept. Why did it bother me, though? Was I selfish?

Paul sucked me off and bobbed his head, always showing me just how fantastic he'd been. As his first and only sexual experience, I'd taught him well. He knew just how to do this. He was born for this. I fucked his throat just like I'd fucked his ass too many times to count. While he was still learning to deepthroat and had made a lot of progress, he was at least able to take all eight inches of my thick meat up his ass.

If my girlfriend only knew what had been going on between me and my own brother behind closed doors. Being devoted to Christ, she was against premarital sex, much to my frustration. She was unintentionally a hot tease, and I'd wanted to use all three of her holes for the three years we'd been a couple, but she'd never go for that even if we were married. Before her, I'd dated another girl for about a year, my first sexual experience. We'd had lots of great sex, but she'd moved out of town, breaking my heart for months. She'd been a rarity among open-minded girls because no girl in this small Bible-belt town in northern Wisconsin would ever dare to put out if she didn't want to risk the pristine reputation forced on her, which sucked more than it helped.

I rubbed the back of Paul's head and stroked his hair, sometimes thrusting in and out of his slurping mouth. Was I no longer straight by messing around with him like this? I never let him touch me back there except to grope my round cheeks on occasion, since even my first girlfriend had done that. I also never sucked his cock, so maybe I was still straight? Or maybe I was just horny? Then again, I loved kissing him, so there was that.

That mouth of his, though. It was like a vacuum except not too hard, and never any teeth involved. He did it just right like a natural. Sometimes, he sucked on my big balls that had enough dark hair to turn him on. I didn't want him to stop, and I edged some more in hopes of not ending the moment just yet. Then again, with my short refractory periods, I'd probably be in the mood again, only this time, I'd fuck him from behind to switch it up.

What if I'd never have this awesome experience again? Would he want to continue messing around even when we were grown men? Would he fall in love with another guy and shut me out forever? That was the thing, though. We didn't have to mess around for me to want him every time I saw him. I never felt this way about other guys, just him. I didn't even want other guys since he was the only one I'd ever do this with. It was like I was gay just for him and too straight to fuck other guys. Weird.

But the best part of me messing around with him was that I never had to use a condom. I'd made him promise never to do this with another guy until after I was gone, which was tomorrow, much to my sadness. Once that happened, he'd have to get tested regularly since I wouldn't be with anyone else, and I wouldn't dare to cheat on my girlfriend. I didn't count messing around with Paul as cheating since we were just helping each other out with our natural male needs, and had I been having sex with my girlfriend, I wouldn't have done it in the first place. Any other guy, though? Yeah, definitely cheating. Paul would always be a secret exception.

I moaned while remaining cautious not to make any noise. I breathed in and out slowly until Paul's quickening pace got me close. I didn't have to warn him. By now, he knew just when. He was ready to taste me. And that was it. The electricity from brain to cock shot instantly and caused me to flood his mouth, leaving me grunting and shaking uncontrollably. He was a pro at this and wasted no drop. He swallowed me completely, loving the taste of my "milk", or so he liked to call it. We stopped while I caught my breath.

He reached for my lips and kissed me, and the euphoria could easily put me to sleep. We weren't supposed to be doing this, but our hormones didn't discriminate, at least not with each other. If only I didn't have to go out of state for college tomorrow, way south in Chicago. I missed him terribly already, but it was important for me to attend the school of my dreams after taking a gap year. I was already nineteen now, and I needed to get away from this religiously-stifling house, what with Dad being the pastor of our church and enforcing his fanatical rules at home. If only I could take Paul with me now that he'd graduated high school at eighteen, but I'd be living in a dorm, so it wasn't possible. Still, it wouldn't be the last time. I hoped not, anyway. Paul and I would keep doing this in private every chance we got. No one would ever have to find out about our private brotherhood.

Paul climbed over me and rested his ass against my still-hard cock, straddling it while grinning at me, face to face. "I want you to shoot inside my other hole now."

"Oh, it won't take me much longer to be in the mood again."

"I know. I love that about you." The more he straddled me, the more I was back up and ready.

I grabbed a bottle of lotion from the surface of my nightstand, since it was easier to get away with buying it than lube, and I squirted some into my palm and slathered my cock with it while Paul lifted himself until I was finished. I put the bottle back on the nightstand and eased my way inside his warm, slightly-loose hole.

Paul gasped and then moaned gently, and he smiled with pleasure while he rode me. He gyrated his hips and knew just how to get me off again.

I loved being inside him, and I thrusted deep into his hole while the pleasure filled me with more desire for him. I rubbed his lips with my finger and inserted it inside his mouth so that he could suck on it.

Paul moaned some more but was always careful with his volume, and he sometimes gave my finger a gentle bite to be extra playful.

I moved the pace quicker and had him bouncing on my cock. I was claiming his hole for the millionth time, making my way in and out like a sweet invasion.

"Fuck me, Phil."

"Yeah, you love my big cock, don't you?"

"I love it. I still want to worship you, though."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I want to serve you for life, make you the god of my world and satisfy all your needs."

I loved it when he spoke like that. He knew I'd never take advantage of his submission, but I still had to decide whether I really wanted to control him like a Dom, since it would change our relationship forever. It did make me hornier, though. I was always able to get off faster whenever he spoke like a sub.

"Fuck my ass. Come inside my hole."

"Fuck, yeah, I will. I'm already getting close."

"Ungh, yeah, Phil, I want your milk."

Moments later, I got even closer as I pounded his little butt for all it was worth, and his moans and submission combined brought me to the edge. "Fuck, I'm coming…"

"Yeah, give it to me. Shoot it all inside me."

My eyes rolled into the back of my head as the climax hit me and made me flood his insides just seconds later, leaving me grunting while my body shook. I started relaxing as I slowed down to catch my breath.

The front of Paul's jockstrap was drenched with his own cum, the main reason he wore one whenever we messed around. It was just easier to fuck him that way while he kept his cum to himself. He pulled my cock out of his ass and snuggled against me, his face toward mine for a brief make-out session. I didn't mind his wet bulge against my leg since it wasn't as if he'd actually come on me.

He sighed and frowned. "Phil, I don't want you to leave." I could tell from his cracking voice that he was starting to get emotional on me. Aw, poor little guy. I felt exactly how he felt, just that I didn't show it the way he did. I was the big brother, and I had to be strong for the two of us. I loved him, though. I loved him with all my heart. How I loved him, I was still figuring out myself.

"I know, I know. Trust me, I wish you could come with me, but you know it's not possible."

"Sucks. I'm stuck going to a small community college while you get to go to a big university."

"I know, Paul, but that's only because my grades happened to be good enough."

"Makes me wish I did better so we could've gone to the same school, but you know I've always struggled in school. Now I'm stuck here at home with Dad who can be so fucking strict and mean. He scares me. Mom will never do anything about it because she's too subservient to change."

"Aw, but at least you're an adult now. I'm sure he'll give you a little more freedom."

"I don't think so. I'm supposedly going to be punished for something I don't even remember doing."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "What do you mean punished?"

It took a moment for Paul to answer. "Since I turned thirteen, he told me every so often that I'll be punished by God after I turn eighteen. He said that God made him promise to make sure it happens so he can be extra righteous."

I sighed, rolling my eyes. "Dad can be a little out there, and he likes to use scare tactics. I mean, he's a fucking bigot who still supports Trump and quotes shit from Mein Kampf in church. Be lucky we no longer allow him to continue poisoning our minds with his toxic garbage like he used to because we now know better."

"He even said you were the perfect son who didn't need punishment because you're already blessed and holy."

"Why would he think that, though?"

Paul took a moment to continue. "I think he knows about me being gay or at least suspects. Around the time I turned thirteen, I forgot to lock the bathroom door, and he caught me playing with my butt when I was experimenting."

My eyebrows flew up, and I was too stunned to say a word.

"Yeah. He got so pissed and was never the same with me again. So, I'm pretty sure he knows because why else would I do that?"

"Aw, Paul. Maybe he forgot about that by now."

"No. Because he reminded me of the punishment again just the other day. He said I was a man now and to get ready soon. He calls me a dirty Jezebel boy and that he'll teach me a hard lesson for 'choosing' to be a faggot, but that I had to be eighteen for it to happen."

I sighed, not liking the sound of that. I immediately entered protective mode. "Look. Whatever it turns out to be, tell me right away. If he ever lays a finger on you in a way that he shouldn't, call or text me, and I'll think of a way to get you out of here. I don't care if you have to drop out of college. I'll find a way somehow."

Paul looked deeply sad and depressed, his mood tugging at my heartstrings with no effort. "You're not going to forget about me, are you, Phil?"

"I'll never forget about you, okay? Don't even think that way. I'll be gone for four years, but I'll still keep in touch with you as much as possible, and I'll still be coming home on every major holiday and every summer. I promise."

And that was it. In just seconds of Paul's lips quivering while staring hard at me, he lost it. I held him more tightly, his head against my chest. I could feel a tear threatening to shed from my eye, but I blinked it away. Yep, I loved him for sure. Sometimes, I questioned whether my feelings for him were just a small crush, or if they were something much bigger. I questioned my feelings because our private brotherhood was worth fighting for. I believed in fate, so whatever it was that I had with my brother, I'd never let it chase me away.

Even if it was true love.

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