Disclaimer: This story is fictional and thus explores a slightly different world than ours. Any similarities to real-world people or events are purely coincidental. The story is also not meant to be social commentary.

Author's note: This is part 1 of an ongoing series. Your feedback on what you liked or disliked about the story is appreciated and helps me refine and fine-tune my writing. Comments and suggestions are welcome at [email protected]

'We need to tell him today,' you say gruffly as you step out of your sweatpants. You've had enough. You look into James's green eyes - your mother's eyes - and see fear. His thick red lips part to answer, but there is no sound. He's younger; he has more to lose. But you know you can't do it alone. You need your brother by your side if you're going to stand up to him once and for all.

'We need to,' you insist. You take off your boxers and place one knee on the bed, at your brother's side. 'Don't you want it to stop? It's not right, it's not. It's not natural.'

'Glasses aren't natural,' retorts Jim. 'You wear them anyway. Because they make life easier for you.'

'What has that got to do with anything?' you snarl at him.

'Maybe this makes life easier for Dad,' he says softly.

Your heart sinks. You've come to the same conclusion every time you've thought about it. Your Dad loves you, you know that. Everything he's done, he's done for you and your brother. He works long hours every day so that you and Jim lack nothing in life. He pays for your music lessons and Jim's karate. He paid for your guitar; he paid for Jim's 15th birthday party; he paid for your glasses; he paid for Jim's scooter. And he does it all with a smile, because he loves you two. You're everything to him.

'We're everything to him, you know,' Jim says knowingly. He adjusts his body on the bed and spreads his knees a bit further apart for comfort. 'He doesn't get out because he works so much for us, so he doesn't have many friends, so he doesn't have hobbies. Aren't you grateful? Don't you wanna thank him?'

'I am!' you yell and land on your elbows next to Jim. 'I do! I do thank him, every day! I say thank you and I hug him and I kiss him and I... I... Isn't that enough?'

'I don't think so,' says Jim, his deep green eyes fixed on yours in the dim lamplight. 'I don't think it's enough. He's our Dad, but he's also human. He's also a man. You're not twelve, Dan. You get what that means.'

You let your head hang and straighten your back. The room would be black if not for the nightlamp. The sheets beneath your elbows and knees are blue, as are the walls. You grew up in this room. Your bed is against the other wall. This is Jim's you're on, naked from the waist down like your younger brother beside you, both your behinds up in the air.

You've had good nights in this room, and you've had bad nights. The nights when you and your childhood friend Carlos first discovered jerking off. The nights after Mom died, when you could hear Dad downstairs, drunk and sobbing. The night when you lost your virginity with Janie Maypole on Jim's bed - she had liked his sheets more. The night when you and Jim got into such a heated shouting match over absolutely nothing and he cracked his fist on the wall. The night when you stayed up with Jim and talked about his first girlfriend and he told you how in love he was and you felt horrible because you knew she was cheating on him. The night when he found out.

You grew up in this room and now you're a man. But, every Friday night when Dad comes home from work, you feel like a boy again.

You hear the car pull up.

'I wonder why he's late,' says Jim quietly. 'I hope he hasn't been drinking.'

'Me too,' you say, tired of arguing with your brother. You decide to take it for one more night and discuss it later. The only problem is, you've been deciding that for too many nights now.

The car door slams shut a little too loud and you hear the rattle of keys trying to find the keyhole for a little too long. Jim sighs.

'Shit!' you yell through your teeth and look at Jim. 'We forgot the lube!'

Jim shakes his head and says, 'I didn't. I did it before you came in, but I forgot to remind you to do it. It's still on the stand.'

You push off the bed and thank God for the carpet in the room. You tiptoe past your brother's hairless, muscular behind and grab the violet tube of gel. You squeeze out some onto your left middle finger, put one hairy leg up on the night stand and reach behind. For the thousandth time, you envy Jim on his lack of hair as you run your wet finger into the coarse, black forest surrounding your ass. You touch it and it tightens.

'Bitch, you didn't warm up the lube!' you snarl at Jim.

'I did, it cooled off by the time you got here. Asshole.'

'Fuck,' you swear under your breath. You slide your long finger over the muscle between your buttcheeks. You make it wet and massage it. The tingling starts. You bite your lips as you push some of your finger through your tight asshole and massage your insides. It burns; you take out your finger and put more lube on. You put it inside you, diligently coating the walls of your ass with it. You remember how it burns when you don't put enough of it deep enough. You slide the finger in and out, in and out until it's easy. You squeeze your ass around it to see how it feels.

You hear footsteps on the stairs. Two, then one. Three, then one. He's been drinking.

'Come on!' hisses Jim.

You look back at him and see his hole, shining with lube. He has a large, muscular butt and his legs are thick. He's younger, but he's always been the sporty one. His ballsack, covered in a smattering of fairy-blonde hairs, hangs so low it hides his limp dick. You slide some more lube inside yourself and get your finger in all the way to the knuckle. You take it out, put some more, and do it again. It feels really good. You don't want it to feel good. It's not right. It's not natural. You take it out, put some more, and do it again. There is no pain.

'Dan, come on!' says Jim as you hear footsteps atop the staircase.

You close the lube, store it away, and retake your position next to your brother, on your elbows and knees, back straight, butt up in the air. Your heart is beating fast and you feel it pulsating in your ass somehow. Your black-haired balls hang low like your brother's, but your cock is still hard from the finger. You should be used to it by now, but you're not. Your heart keeps beating and your palms start sweating. You lower your head and listen.

The footsteps grow louder. They are still irregular. He's outside your door. You hear the doorknob. Light pours in from the hallway. You close your eyes and slow your breathing. The door closes.

You hear him undo his belt; first comes the metallic sound of the buckle, then the slow swish of the leather. It drops to the floor, heavy but silent because of the carpet. His feet make little sound too. You hear his zipper; you hear the rustle of his cargo pants as he lowers them around his big legs. You regret thinking of them as 'big', because then you think of his huge penis and how it feels inside you and your asshole clenches involuntarily. You wipe your palms on the sheets.

His breathing is heavy and deep. Horny. You can smell the beer and the cigarettes from the bar. You remember Jim's words: 'He's also a man.' You wonder why men have to drink, and you remember Jim's words again: 'It makes life easier.' You wonder why men need sex so badly, why they can't just jerk off and be done with it. 'He's also human,' Jim intones in your head. You remember Janie Maypole and the warmth of her body and the feeling of partnership, of oneness, as you came into her for the first time. You wonder if that's really how Dad feels too, if that's really why he needs this, if... if he misses Mom so much that only the warmth of you and your brother, the fruits of their love, can fill that void. You wonder if you can really hold that against him.

You hear him slide out of his jacket, hear the contortion of him removing his undershirt. He's standing there, naked except for his underwear. You know how he looks there; you glanced back a few times in the early days. He towers above you and your brother, massive like the two of you put together, with thick arms and a large chest, a tight, hairy stomach, and his old black boxers covering his manhood. You saw it once before he took it out, saw how it jutted out and strained the fabric when it became engorged. You still feel a mixture of pride and fear when you think of your father's penis. Other boys at school would sometimes brag and playfight about whose dad's cock was bigger, but you were always silent, knowing full well that your Dad would win that contest any day. You knew first hand.

He stands behind you calmly, but you hear his breathing deepen and his large hand caress the fabric of his underwear. You know it's filling with blood, becoming longer and thicker. Too long; too thick. You wonder what exactly is getting him hard. He watches you and Jim, but why does he find you attractive? Suddenly you feel girly, kneeling there on the bed with your hole in the air, waiting for a man's cock. Then you remember that your ass is hairy, and Jim's isn't, and you remember that there are nights - drunk nights - when Dad only enters Jim and fully empties himself inside him, leaving you alone. Maybe his smooth body reminds him better of a woman, or of Mom? Maybe he only enters you because he doesn't want you to feel left out? You feel less girly as you remember all your hairs, but you also feel strangely undesirable. It's stupid and makes no sense, but you hope your father will find you attractive tonight, even through his drink. God, it's not right...

You hear Jim gasp and feel the bed shake under him. You hear Dad exhale; you hear flesh on flesh. He's touching Jim's hole with his penis. He's very gentle and enters you both very slowly and caringly, but sometimes when he is drunk, he forgets himself and gets rough. The first time it happened, he was barely conscious. You still remember Jim's screams from that night and how hard the bed shook under the weight of Dad fucking him. Dad roared and swore as he mercilessly pounded his cock into Jim. Several times, he called him 'Sally' - Mom's name. Jim pleaded with him to stop or slow down, but Dad couldn't hear in his stupor.

When he finished, he instantly fell on top of Jim and started snoring. Both his wet cock and his sperm slid out of Jim's ass and onto the bed, staining a large circle on the sheets. Jim was in pain, sobbing. You remember how you had to push Dad off him to let him get away and then how you had to slide the sheets out from under Dad and clean them so he wouldn't find them and remember what he'd done to his son. Regardless, he remembered the next day. He spent it sobbing and apologizing to Jim. It hurt to see him like that, but at the time you felt like he deserved all the sorrow in the world. You thought Jim could never forgive him, but he did. You didn't think you could ever forgive him if he did that to you. Maybe Jim loves him more than you? Maybe that, and not fear, is the reason he doesn't mind this as much. Maybe he loves Dad more than you do.

Your bare hole feels cold in the air. The lube has drained its heat. The bed starts to shake under you. You look over to Jim and see that he has his eyes closed, his jaw clenched. His head hangs low, waves of his blond hair caressing the sheets as he sways slowly, imperceptibly, back and forth. You wonder if Dad is still entering him; you can't tell. Dad is grunting behind you. Grunts of pleasure as his penis slowly slides inside of Jim, pushing the muscles of his ass apart, or pleasure from exploring the warmth of his son's insides? You can't tell.

You feel alone there, half-naked, next to your half-naked little brother, your big, strong father naked behind you. As much as you don't want to, you feel like a part of this family. You three are together, in life, in everything, and it feels safe. Wrong or not, it feels safe to be Dad's haven when he comes back home. Maybe Jim is right. Maybe he does deserve this. He works so hard for you and treats you so well, how can you be so ungrateful as to mind his growls of pleasure as he pushes his engorged meat into your brother's hole? Yes, he's growling now, the soft rumble of his voice sending waves through Jim, through the bed, through you. His movement causes waves too. You feel him swaying Jim. You take another look at your brother, supporting himself on his muscular arms, his stomach tight in spite of gravity. You see his dick under him, full of blood and swaying with him. You know how it feels. When Dad pushes himself inside you, you don't want to get hard, but you can't help it. When Dad enters you with his manhood, he fills you completely, he massages your insides, parts no one else has access too. It feels good. It's wrong, but it feels good, and your dick responds. Suddenly, you see Dad's large, hairy hands on Jim's hips and you close your eyes again.

'Ah!' Jim whispers. You don't think Dad hears him. He makes his little noises again, and again, and again. Dad is sliding his cock in and out of him, you can tell by the rhythm of his rocking and his noises. He always makes those noises. You think he sounds weak, with his little ahs and ohs as he takes Dad. You don't make those noises, or at least you don't think you do. You take it quietly, like a man. Then again, maybe that's another reason why Dad prefers your brother. His body is smooth, he's blond like your mother was, and he makes those girly noises. Maybe that turns Dad on.

He certainly sounds turned on. He rumbles, he grunts, he growls; Jim ahs, ohs, squeals quietly. You're tempted to look, but you don't. He rumbles and mutters a barely audible 'fuck'. Dad never swears during the day. He grunts with pleasure. You can only imagine how it feels for him. You've fucked girls, but never... like that. Maybe you never wanted to, or maybe you were just afraid to try. You know how it feels inside a pussy, inside a woman's wet hole, but you feel like you have no idea how it feels inside a man. You have no desire to find out, but somehow, you hope it feels nice for Dad. You hope it makes him happy to relax with his sons after a hard week of work. That's the kind of thinking that takes over you when Dad comes home. Your rebelliousness melts away. You cross over completely to Jim's side and just want to help Dad, make him feel good. You know you'll feel bad about it tomorrow and argue with Jim about it at some point again... but when Dad enters you tonight, you tell yourself, you'll try to make the kinds of noises Jim does.

It comes sooner than you expect. The swaying slows, and Jim's sounds diminish. He and Dad exhale together several times as Dad exits him, they inhale together as he enters him again, but as the breathing slows, the fucking slows too. You look at Jim, and he looks at you, his eyes glazed over with pleasure. He's biting his thick lips. Sweat has stuck some of his hair to his face. He looks into your eyes and you can easily tell what he's feeling. You see it in his eyes, in his facial expressions. You see his eyebrows raise as he feels Dad slowly sliding his long, thick penis out of him. You see his lips pout, his eyes squint with tears as Dad's cockhead spreads his asshole further apart than his shaft on its way out. A slight, relieved spreading of his green eyes tells you that Dad is fully out. Jim looks, at once, relieved and disappointed, comforted and scared, sated and hungry. You know the feeling. He wanted Dad to spill his seed inside him. He would never want for something like that during the day, but when Dad comes home and when you start, your thoughts go there so easily that it's scary.

You hear him move behind you. The smell of beer and cigarettes washes over you again and suddenly, too fast, you feel him touching your ass. He feels warm and comforting, heated up from fucking your brother. He feels like he belongs on your ass, protecting it. You feel him moving delicately around it and realize that it's not his cock that's touching you. It's one of his thick, long fingers cleaning the area, moving the wet hairs away from your hole. He spits. You flinch as you feel his finger enter you, wet and warm, but as thick as two of your fingers. He pushes his spit inside you because he feels there isn't enough lube. You know it's all the same to him. He's strong enough to enter you dry and it would probably feel better for his uncut penis, but he cares about you, cares not to hurt you. So he slides his finger out, spits again, and pushes it back in. You feel it caressing you inside. You squeeze your ass around it to let him know it's alright and he moans loudly.

You look at Jim and see him glancing back at Dad, observing him as he prepares you. His eyes are running up and down something. At first you think it's Dad's tight, muscular build that always inspired your brother to work out, but then you realize that his eyes are moving too little. You realize he's observing the full length of Dad's hard cock that just left his insides. You see the hunger in his eyes, feel the emptiness he must feel. Dad places the whole length of his loins between your buttcheeks, along your crack. You feel it cover the entire area of your ass, feel it press against your cheeks above and below your hole. You hang your head low and gaze down the length of your thin stomach, past your aroused, throbbing dick, and see your father's hairy, muscular legs behind your thin ones. You see his massive pair of balls hanging low behind you, dwarfing yours by comparison; it's not that you're small at all, it's just that your father is so big.

He slides it up and down you to relax you. When he slides it up, he presses the root of his shaft against your hole and his ballsack hits yours; you get dizzy; you're transported to another world. When he slides it down, you can see some of its base, thick as your forearm, glistening white with lube. Jim is observing, biting his lips as he does when he enjoys what he sees. You wonder if he's aware of the tic. You remember way back when this all started, when you were much younger and were taking Dad one night, getting fucked hard and worrying stupidly about the integrity of the squeaking bed, you remember looking over to Jim and seeing him looking at the two of you go, biting his lips all the while. That, you remember, was your first clue that he may actually be enjoying some part of this family ritual.

You feel Dad's hands, each easily as big as one of your butt cheeks, spreading you. Your ass clenches to counter him and pleasure surges through your dick. He squeezes your cheeks, grabs you harder, and spreads you apart again. This time, you let it go, let your ass open slightly for him. He growls, spits, and you feel the mouthful land on your hole as his cock leaves your crack. A moment later, you feel its head touching your pink hole and pushing apart the wet flesh. Dad's prepared you so well that there is no pain as you feel his head slide into you.

The size of him pushing against the walls of your insides feels as incredible as ever. Every time he enters you, all your anger melts away, every problem in the world reduced to ashes by the fire of his passion, the warmth of his erect manhood. As he gently slides it in further, spreading your ass more and more with his large organ, you only feel safer. It's when he's away that you feel vulnerable. Maybe it's that vulnerability that drives you to hate him at times, drives you to anger over his need for release. It's a strange thought, but it makes perfect sense to you as you feel Dad start to fuck you with some of his thick pole, gliding in and out along your wet anus and inducing the divine pleasure that you so easily forget during the day. Although you feel perfectly content, perfectly safe just letting him enjoy you like that, you remember your vow from earlier and quietly let out a baritone 'aaah'.

He stops. You wonder if it was the wrong decision, if maybe only your brother knew how to do it right, but you are quickly reassured when you hear Dad inhale deeply and feel his stationary cock throb inside you, impossibly growing a bit more. He slides his firm hands over your ass and reaches around to the fronts of your thighs. A gentle pull towards him lets you know what he wants. You readjust yourself on your elbows, arch your back, and push yourself towards him. You slide down his length for what feels like a blissful eternity, never reaching his body, letting out a soft 'oooooh' as you do. You slide back up for another eon, feeling your anus grip his massive dick. You almost reach the tip, and oh how relaxing it feels when you do, but just before you let him out, you slide back down the whole length you've managed to take so far.

'Fuuuuuck,' he exhales, his voice deep and hoarse from the cigarettes.

A smile forces its way onto your face. You open your eyes and look at Jim, half-expecting jealousy on his face, perhaps because you'd like him to envy you for once. But Jim is impossibly honest as always. Emotions like jealousy are alien to him. What you see on his face is a smile as well, his eyes glistening with brotherly pride as he watches you please Dad, with filial devotion as he observes your father behind you, taking care of you like no one else can, letting you enjoy yourself like you never could with anyone else, because he loves you more than anyone could. You're his son, you're both his sons. He's your creator. He made you.

That's a strange thought. As you move your whole body and use your voice to please Dad, the thought creeps into your head again and again. You came from his cock. What you are is a product of his sperm. Not only has Dad taken great care of Jim and you all your lives, loved you with all his heart, but he is also literally the source of your lives. You feel tremendously ungrateful all of a sudden. You regret everything you said to Jim earlier. Dad evidently feels your spirits fall; he moves his hands across your hairy legs, massaging them, back up to your butt, squeezing the muscle and skin. His hands move to your lower back, the width of it barely enough to fit them both, and push down on it. When you don't move, he moves them up your back and pushes down again. You get the hint and slowly lower your torso to the bed, letting your arms relax.

He gives you an approving slap on your right buttcheek and chases away the bad thoughts. You smile and relax again, and as you do, he grabs your ass and forces his length into you. You yell out in pain and pleasure as he penetrates a deeper part of you, but you say nothing and you don't discourage him. You know it's only temporary. He stays inside for a bit to let you get used to it, but then he starts plowing you right, his gentle care replaced with a man's raw desire to fuck a hole. You make noises now involuntarily as he blesses your insides with his presence, and your newly discovered ahs and ohs drive him mad. You can feel it in the way he growls as he fucks your ass faster and faster, feel it in his hands squeezing your cheeks and spreading them apart to let you take him easier, feel it in the slapping noise of his groin pounding against your butt; you realize he's almost completely inside you now.

You want to cry in delight as your father fucks you harder and harder, his large body leaning into you more and more, ramming your gates with the force of a truck, the mechanical rhythm of a piston. He puts his hands on your lower back again and supports himself on it, letting his hips do the work. You're not a particularly strong guy and the weight of him is not easy for you to handle, but you endure. You take comfort in the fact that your father feels safe enough with you to let your body hold him up while he focuses on bulldozing your asshole with his massive cock. His giant balls ram into your thighs over and over and sometimes reach around to your dick. You wonder how that doesn't hurt him, but there's not much time for wondering. He begins moaning. You know the sound well. You look over to Jim again and, once again, instead of jealousy you see excitement, instead of envy hunger. He wants a part of the portion that you're about to get, but he cares more for Dad's pleasure than his. He feels like you've earned your reward tonight.

The moans grow in intensity as Dad fucks you relentlessly. You begin to quietly moan with him. You don't even feel your ass anymore. It's just you and Dad in that moment, becoming a single entity as he gives you a large part of himself. The bed is shaking and squeaking under you, but you can hardly hear it over Dad's joyous roaring as he feels his juice coming. He growls loudly, shaking the room with his deep voice, and his rhythm slows. He starts entering you fully and exiting you fully, filling you to the brim with his cock and then leaving you fully, leaving your open ass empty before he suddenly slides back in with full force, transporting you into another world. He knows you like it. He knows because, every time he does it, it makes you come within seconds.

He drives his cock as deep into you as it will go, and you feel like your balls are going to burst. He goes out. He shoves it in again, sliding along your insides, and you feel a large gob of precum sliding out of your pipe and onto the sheets. He goes out. You know this will be it. Maybe he does too, because he does it slower this time, allowing your ass to fully appreciate the size of your Dad's giant cock as its bottle-like girth opens you, enters you, slides into you and slides and slides and slides and slides and slides and slides and slides, its impossible length fitting inside you. As his groin presses against your cheeks and he makes the final push with his hips to push into you even the last inch of the cock from which you came, you get dizzy and go over the edge and you feel your manhood start to convulse in response to your orgasm.

The first rope of your cum goes halfway to your face and falls on the sheet. The second blasts you and you close your eyes. The third blasts you too. You enjoy the warmth of your cum on your face, but what you enjoy more is your ass rhythmically contracting around Dad's dick. He moans and swears again as your anus squeezes his manhood in orgasm. Suddenly he roars louder than you think he should. You feel it coming. His juice rushes through his massive pole and you feel it spreading your ass further to make room for the liquid. The first rush comes right after one of your ass squeezes and you gasp; the second, more voluminous, coincides with one of your squeezes and your whole body starts shaking with pleasure. A third comes, and a fourth, in quick succession. Dad gasps for air as he comes inside you, shooting his thick white cum all over your insides. A fifth fills you, and a sixth, and a seventh. Dad keeps orgasming long after you're done, but you enjoy him giving you your reward. An eighth pulse shoots the last of his juice inside you and you suddenly feel wetness sliding down your thighs and your balls. You know what it is. Dad has so much cum in his balls that you can rarely contain all of it inside you when he releases it. You regret losing it, but there's nothing you can do. His giant cock fills you so much, it's strange any of his sperm can fit, really. Even as he's still inside you, you feel yourself overflow and his cum starts draining down your legs and onto the sheet, some of it mixing with your cum.

You both slowly wind down. His breathing slows, and yours does too. His cock slowly relaxes, letting more of his juice leave your ass and probably run all over his big balls. You know how it goes now that he's had his release. He exits you, at first slowly but then all at once; you feel another waterfall of his cum rush down your balls and legs. You open your eyes, displacing some of your come. You see him again towering behind you, the sheet under you a wet mess. You see his relaxed cock resting between his balls, all covered in white juice, and you feel the strangest, wrongest urge to lick the juice off it. You chastise yourself for thinking idiotic things. His massive legs are bulging from all the work. You appreciate his big muscles and admire him for the work he puts into them. You're not as inspired by them as Jim is, but you can certainly appreciate the effort that goes into them.

Suddenly, you see his lower half turn. His manhood swings around and leaves your sight as he begins walking away. You slowly lower your aching back to the bed, trying to keep his cum from pouring out of you again. Everything is wet, but you don't dislike it. It's Dad's cum. You worked for it and now you're lying in it. You hear Dad picking up his clothes off the floor. You could almost fall asleep from how happy you feel, how safe and satisfied. The sound of the door opening brings you out of it. You expect it to close, but it doesn't immediately. You raise your eyebrows and your heart starts beating from anticipation.

'Boys,' Dad calls from the door, his deep voice soothing you.

He doesn't normally talk to you afterwards. You wonder. You feel your brother's confusion in his silence. Long ago, when you made the arrangement with Dad, he told you that he didn't want you to talk during or afterwards. Both of you have kept to that rule. You've often wondered why he likes it that way, and your best guess was that he didn't want male voices ruining his enjoyment. This explanation, you think, is supported by his liking it when you let out soft, feminine sounds, but you've always felt that it couldn't be the whole story.

The silence lingers for a few more seconds. Neither of you respond.

'Right,' he mumbles, apparently remembering the rule.

He's silent for a few beats, and then he rumbles it out. He says it loud and clear, in his commanding tone. He says it with full conviction. He says it to you and your brother.

'I love you boys very much.'

The door closes.

'Wow,' whispers Jim immediately. He lifts his upper body, all his muscles still tense from essentially planking. His long erection curves slightly downward as it protrudes from his groin, the head wet with precum. 'What was that about?'

'No idea,' you say with a heavy breath, still lying down. 'The last time he said that was when Mom died.'

'Yeah, I remember.'

You see him get up off the bed, his hard dick swinging and still leaking precum. Jim is really fit. He never goes to a gym, but he spends a lot of his time outdoors and playing sports with friends. You like that about him. All his looks come naturally from doing what he loves to do. His abs ripple when he moves, the soft blond hairs between them tapering down to his dick. He has a clearly defined jaw but not much in the way of a beard. He's just an all-around handsome guy, you think. He doesn't get with girls much because he's a romantic, but he could have anyone he set his eyes on. You're both proud of him and envy him, but that's what brothers do.

'Are you okay?' he whispers from somewhere you can't see.

'Yeah. That was...' You stop yourself before you say 'great'. Luckily, Jim fills in.

'Dad seemed to really enjoy it. I think it's great that you put in some extra effort.'

You almost blush as you remember the soft noises you made. Your speaking voice is full and relatively deep, but you found it surprisingly easy to sound airy for Dad. You remember how you loved the way it made his penis twitch inside you.

'Anyway, get up so I can throw the sheets and get to bed. The guys and I are going hiking at 5 tomorrow.'

You remember that this is Jim's bed. You slowly separate yourself from the lake of cum and tiptoe across the carpet to your small en suite bathroom to clean up. You hear him jumping around and changing the sheets as you wipe the mix of lube and cum from your ass, legs and dick. You go for a quick shower and, when you come out in your short pajamas, Jim is already in bed, eyes closed. You notice the bulging part of the sheet at his crotch and smirk.

You slide into the bed on the opposite wall. You know it'll take you a while to fall asleep. Your mind is racing, replaying all the sensations and emotions you felt, thinking about Dad and Jim and you and this whole thing and how it fits into your life. After a while, you remember something.

'Hey,' you call out to Jim, hoping he's still awake. He mumbles in disapproval. 'Hey, Jimmy.'

'I'm sleeping,' he retorts.

'Isn't Saturday Dad's birthday?'

'Yeah. So what?'

'So, you think he'll want to... you know, do this?'

'Probably. Why?'

'I was just thinking, maybe we should think of something better. Surprise him, you know. He never goes out, he never has anyone over.'

'You wanna take him out to a disco club, Dan?'

'Shut up. Maybe we could invite some of his friends over and have a couple drinks.'

'Why do you suddenly care so much?' grumbles Jim groggily.

'Honestly, I have no idea,' you answer. 'It just came over me that we're everything he has and the guy is turning 40. We should probably do something special. I dunno, I just feel... Sorry, forget it.'

Silence for a minute.

'Like who?'


'Who do we invite?'

You think it over for a bit. Dad has a number of good friends, of course, but they're spread across the country. They talk occasionally over the phone, but you know he hasn't got time for meetups. It would be great if you could arrange something with some of the ones who are close by.

'Hey, remember Darryl?'

Jim opens his eyes and looks across the room at you, a smile on his face.

'Sure, we played b-ball all the time. You were a sissy back then and never wanted to join.'

'He was three times my size,' you say. 'What would be the point?'

'It's about having fun, Dan, not winning. You never get that.'

'Yeah, well. We can invite him, I think he's only a 3-hour drive from here. I remember Dad mentioning a while ago that he remarried and moved to the countryside.'

'Sure, he's cool. Party of four sounds small for a birthday though. Anyone else?'

'Uhh, aunt Christie lives nearby.'

'Yeah, but being the only girl there? I'd feel bad for her.'

'I guess it will be quite a sausagefest. I dunno, I'm out. Everyone else is too far away to bother.'

Jim squints his green eyes and looks into the wall for a bit.

'Oh!' he says and sits up a bit. 'I think I saw Mr Napier downtown a couple weeks ago when I was with Anna.'

'Who?' you ask, not recognizing the name.

'Old Mr Bill, Dad's wrestling trainer. You remember him, he came to your tenth birthday!'

'Sure, just like a bunch of other people I've never seen since,' you say, but it does ring a bell. 'Isn't he dead though?'

'People don't die at 50, Dan,' Jim says, irritated. 'He wasn't that much older than Dad.'

'Were they close though? I haven't heard Dad talk about him much.'

'Well, Dad was pretty deep into wrestling when he was younger. They must have spent a lot of time together. Besides, I've met him and he's really funny.'

'Oh? When was this?'

'I tried wrestling for a while in high school, remember? Dad took me over to Bill's one time to get some technique lessons. I quit the team soon after that because I got bored of it, but that one time with him was really cool. He even convinced Dad to let me have a beer.'

'Asshole, I thought our first drink was together,' you say, half-joking.

'It was, dude. That was later. Anyway, Google him and see if he lives nearby. Bill Napier. I'm sure I saw him, but he wouldn't have recognized me so I didn't say anything.'

'Okay,' you say, pretty happy that both of you came up with one friend. 'Party of five doesn't sound bad at all.'

'Yeah. Anyway, you get on that tomorrow. We only have a week. Now go to sleep.'

'You too,' you say, closing your eyes. 'Do you think this is a good idea?'

'It's a great idea,' says Jim finally and turns around to sleep.

Your mind slowly winds down, but a million ideas still pop into your head of what you could do on Saturday to make Dad's birthday nice. You hope both Darryl and Bill will be able to come, or you'll really have to grasp at straws. You hope Dad will be pleasantly surprised and happy to see them.

You think about tonight. Another Friday night, another weekly family bonding. You're drifting into sleep and you don't know how you feel about it anymore. It made you feel good. It made Dad feel good enough to say out loud that he loved you and Jim. What could be so wrong about it if it makes you all happy? You're sure you'll think of reasons again tomorrow, but you don't care.

Your last thought before you fall asleep is gratitude. You're thankful to Dad for trusting you enough with his needs and with his seed tonight. You turn on your side and you feel a sea of his cum move inside you. The cum that made you, inside you, because you earned it. Dad's love, inside you. You smile and then you're gone.


John Dean Major

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