Hanging With My Big Bro

Author's Note: This is mainly a foot fetish story (at least this part, assuming I write more), so skip it if that's not your thing.

When I had to list five choices for big bro, Connor was easily my first pick. The guy was everything I aspired to be as a fresh-faced 18-year-old pledge: effortlessly outgoing, ridiculously fun, and legendary for his sexual conquests. He was a 22-year-old junior, 6' tall with buzzed black hair and a smile that could charm the skirt off of any girl who walked through the frat house door. He was obviously in good shape, an avid runner with thick, muscular legs; he didn't have the bulging arms or huge chest of a bodybuilder, but he didn't need them to get what he wanted. From the stories the other brothers in the house told, he always managed to get it. That was exactly the kind of reputation I wanted to have a few years into the future. "That guy Ethan? Bro, that guy's a fucking legend!"

Talking to Connor at the rush parties and after I'd accepted a bid, I felt like we had a lot in common. I was 5'11" and had never played sports either, always more fond of running than lifting weights. I was a likable guy too, the type who always had an easy time making friends. The only thing I found myself struggling with was the sheer scale of the social scene on campus. Standing out was easy in the little pond of 600 people that was my high school, but now I was suddenly in a crowd of 40,000. I felt like it was impossible to get noticed.

Pledging the frat seemed like a great start, and I figured Connor would be a perfect mentor, even if that was probably just a pipedream. The frat bro had been friendly with almost all of the pledges in our class; it was tough to imagine that the guy hadn't been a popular choice for big bro among the others. I didn't have a clue how they were even going to decide to pair us up, but I hoped for the best.

When big/little night came, the brothers blindfolded us and led us into a room where they spent an hour fucking around. When the blindfolds finally came off, Connor was standing in front of me with a fifth of tequila. His brown eyes were sparkling, a thin layer of scruff on his face. "Hey, little bro!" he said excitedly, smiling widely as he immediately twisted the cap off the bottle. I was shocked and overjoyed, but I didn't have much time to appreciate that. We did rapid-fire shots of tequila together until the bottle was half empty, and then we were quickly paired up with another big and little for a case race.

"No shotgunning, no tools, and anyone leaving to piss or puke immediately disqualifies your team," the pledge master announced. "It's only 30 beers, you fucking pussies. Let's see how fast you can finish them!" He cracked a can and guzzled it down to start the race, the sound of a couple other dozen beers breaking open instantly reverberating through the room.

I already knew I was going to fuck it up. I'd just come off my two week rotation as a designated driver, doorman, and party monitor--I literally hadn't been allowed to drink at all. My head was already swimming from the tequila, but I tried to give it my best for Connor. I wound up drinking the least anyway, the race called when our team still had six cans left. I heard Connor tsk-tsking me.

"My team won that race the last two years! We're going to have to work on that, little bro," he chided, slurring his words. "You can't be letting me down! We have a reputation to maintain in this house!"

Drinking that much so quickly after two whole weeks dry, I barely remembered the rest of the big/little party when I woke up in my dorm room. The one thing I definitely remembered: Connor was now my big bro. Even though I felt like shit, I still smiled. That guy was going to teach me so much.

* * *

Now that I'd finished my two weeks of service, I was free to enjoy the house like I was already one of the brothers for the next two weeks. I showed up and spent an hour drinking keg beer, shooting the shit with the guys and the other pledges who were off duty. I spent the whole time quietly looking for Connor, wanting a chance to talk to him without being completely plastered. I finally spotted him walking into the house an hour later. He was wearing a white Vineyard Vines t-shirt, short blue shorts, and a pair of classic Sperrys, a backpack slung over his shoulder. He looked like he'd been busy.

Connor had immediately started heading toward the staircase that led to his room, but he stopped when he saw me, nodding his head. He walked up, giving me a hard pat on the back. "Yo, Ethan, I had a really long day. Drink some more and come up to my room if you want to hang out tonight. I'm in 310."

"No worries, I'll drink up," I answered. I already knew he was expecting me to improve on pounding beers.

"Cool, man," Connor said flatly, patting me again before disappearing up the staircase.

For a couple minutes, as I slowly sipped the beer in my hand, I felt a little bothered by his seeming indifference. /If you want to hang out/. Did the guy actually want to hang out tonight or was it a snub? I decided the blase invitation was actually a challenge. I'd ranked Connor first and I'd actually gotten my pick, unlike most of the other pledges in the class. Now my big bro wanted me to prove that I was serious about getting to know him better and actually becoming friends. I figured I'd down enough beers to boast about my count and head upstairs to meet him.

I was seven in when I poured my last beer from the keg, and definitely tipsy. I knew Connor was probably going to expect me to drink even more when I went up to his room, so I didn't dare press my numbers any further. I actually wanted to remember this interaction with my new big bro. Quickly draining my eighth beer, I chucked my solo cup into a trash can and climbed the stairs up to the third floor. I hadn't seen this part of the house since I'd toured it during rush, and walking past all the rooms of the upperclassmen, I knew I didn't really belong here as a pledge. That made hanging out with Connor seem even more exciting as I knocked on the door to room 310.

"It's open!" he called.

I turned the knob and walked in, finding Connor sitting at his desk. His room was surprisingly clean, not the collection of crushed beer cans and empty liquor bottles I'd been expecting, the frat's flag and a small paddle bearing the letters hung on the wall. "Hey, man," I greeted, smiling warmly at him.

He closed his laptop as he swiveled toward the door in his chair. "Little bro!" he said enthusiastically, his face lighting up like he was actually happy to see me. "Glad you made it up here! Close that door and lock it behind you."

I did it, even if the request seemed strange. Why did we need the door locked?

"I told Plank to fuck off because we might be hanging out, but his dumb ass might drink half a keg and wander up here anyway trying to fuck some slut," Connor volunteered.

"Plank?"

Connor chuckled. "You haven't heard that one yet? My roommate, Joey, the guy who's like 6'7"."

I'd never actually had a conversation with the guy, but I knew exactly who he meant. "Oh yeah, I've definitely seen him around the house."

"How could you fucking miss him?" Connor asked. "He's a solid head taller than most of the guys here. Doesn't hold his liquor like you'd think though. Sit down!" Connor encouraged, motioning to a small leather recliner that was positioned against the wall next to his desk.

The chair looked like a hapless alcoholic itself, cracked, torn, and stained everywhere with god knows what, but I sat down. "Looks like this thing has been a bro for at least ten years," I joked.

Connor laughed. "Yeah, I got that from your grandbig. Who knows where he got it. Maybe someday you can give it to my grandlittle." He stood up, walking a few paces and grabbing a half full bottle of tequila from the top of a mini-fridge next to his bed, presumably the same one from big/little night. He turned over two shot glasses that were sitting on his desk, opening the bottle and starting to pour. "I was actually supposed to give you this to take home, but I don't think you even remember leaving the house."

"Yeah, it all got pretty hazy after the case race," I admitted. I had no idea how I even made it back to my room that night.

He slid a shot toward me across the desk. "No shit! I had a couple of the pledges take you back to your dorm. And I might have to do it again, because we'll definitely be working on your drinking skills tonight!" He picked his shot glass up and we clinked them together, downing the tequila.

The liquor barely burned after the eight beers I had downstairs, Connor quickly pouring two more shots. Maybe I was just drunk already, but it felt really cool to be hanging out with him one-on-one for the first time ever. We clinked the glasses a second time and swallowed another round.

"Oh yeah, before I drink too much and forget, I have a couple things to give you." Connor stood up again and walked the few steps toward his open closet, rustling things around for a moment. He came back to the desk with a long rectangular box and a small Amazon envelope. He was smiling as he pressed the box toward me first. "Open it."

The packaging made the contents obvious. "It's...a lightsaber?"

Connor could barely suppress his laughter. "Open it!"

I peeled the tape off and opened the box, pulling out a cheap plastic lightsaber.

"From now on, you carry that to class every day until you're done pledging," he said matter-of-factly. "And seriously, don't let any of the brothers catch you without it, because they'll make me give you something way more embarrassing if they do."

I pressed the button to turn it on, the toy making a loud whooshing sound. Extending the plastic "blade," it was glowing blue. "No problem, I can handle that." It seemed silly, but it was harmless compared to most of the hazing stories I'd heard.

"And then there's one more thing," Connor said, grinning as he handed me the envelope.

I reached inside and found a small plastic package. Pulling it out, I quickly realized it was a hot pink thong.

Connor was cracking up, probably reacting to the horrified expression on my face. "Don't worry, I only expect you to wear that to the parties on Fridays," he explained. "And I'm the only one who's going to be checking for it."

That was silly too, even if completely harmless, but the idea of wearing a hot pink thong in a room full of masculine frat bros was infinitely more embarrassing. I knew that was the point. "Yeah, no problem," I agreed.

"Good, little bro!" He seemed satisfied that I didn't have any objections, starting to screw the cap back on the tequila bottle before he looked me in the eyes. "Now, I know you're my little, but you're still a pledge for the rest of the semester. You already have duties to the frat, but occasionally I'll expect you to be useful to me too. You understand?"

I nodded my head. "No worries, I get that." Fetching him drinks or driving him around definitely seemed preferable to being at the beck and call of every brother in the house.

Connor's lips quivered slightly like he was trying not to smile. "Put the tequila back and grab us each a beer then."

I bolted up from the worn recliner, grabbing the bottle of tequila and starting toward his mini-fridge.

"Actually," Connor called from behind me, "bring two for each of us."

The request was totally innocuous, but I felt like I sensed a slight change in his tone. The words were less genial than all the others had been; they were more insistent, almost commanding. Or maybe I was just drunk. I took two ice-cold beers in each hand, 16 ounce cans of PBR, finding my big bro staring at me intently as I plodded the short distance back to his desk, placing two of the beers in front of him. I set mine down at the other end and took my seat again.

"Did I say you could sit down?" he scolded.

I instantly jumped up on my feet.

Connor snickered as he cracked his first PBR open. "I'm fucking with you, bro. Sit down!"

He took a huge swig as I planted myself back into the alcoholic chair, feeling like I was playing Simon Says with the pledge master again. I wondered if Connor had ever been pledge master himself. Maybe he was putting me through his own personal initiation now that I was his little.

"Come on, open your beer!"

Pulling the tab and taking a sip, I felt like I was taking another order. We sat there drinking together in silence for a bit, Connor seeming to intently study my face and occasionally looking me up and down. I really wanted to say something, but his expression convinced me he was the one who would take the lead.

"So, Ethan, I'm really curious, what actually made you want to join the frat?" Connor finally asked.

That was an easy answer for me. "Girls mostly," I admitted. "It's good clout." I genuinely had no idea how to even meet women outside of the frat's parties.

Connor tsk-tsked me yet again. "Girls? We're good-looking guys, man! You don't need to be a brother to pick up chicks, trust me."

Now I wondered what he wanted me to say. Some bullshit about brotherhood? Wasn't it all really about girls in the end?

He chugged at least half his can in two massive gulps, unapologetically letting out a massive belch. "You know, I think I had at least five pledges pick me as their first choice for big bro. You want to know why I picked you?"

I didn't usually feel nervous around other guys, but he was making me really fucking nervous. Part of me worried he'd drop me for someone else if I couldn't satisfactorily answer his questions. I could feel sweat dripping down the sides of my shirt. "You thought I was a cool guy?" I guessed. "You saw something in me?"

Connor laughed, fixing his eyes on mine. "Oh yeah, I definitely saw something. You're a good talker, really attractive--you have that innocent blue-eyed, blond-haired boy next door thing going for you. But you always do seem...a little out of your element, maybe?"

I nodded. Why not be honest about it? "I have no idea what I'm doing here, man. Like, seriously, no idea. You make it look so easy."

"Nothing wrong with that, little bro," he said gently. "You think I stomped around like I owned the place when I was a freshman? Fuck no! I felt the way you probably do."

By now I'd drank most of my first beer. I let out a nervous laugh. "Yeah, I've definitely found myself looking up to you."

"Aw, how sweet!" Connor teased. "I hope you're still saying that a few weeks from now."

I wasn't sure what he meant, but he didn't wait for me to say anything.

"So why do you really want to join the frat?" he posed again. "You just told me. You look up to guys like me. You want some guidance, some molding. That's why you really want to be a brother. Am I right?"

"Yeah, you're definitely right about that."

"Well, no shit. You think you're fooling me? Girls!" he scoffed. "That's the kind of answer I'd expect to hear from some loser who believes letters are his only chance to get laid. And I know you're better than that from talking to you over the past couple months. You wouldn't be sitting here if I didn't think so."

I nodded. "Thanks, man, I really appreciate that."

Connor stared into me and shook his head. "No, I don't want you to appreciate that. I want you to know that's who you are. I don't make friends with losers. I use the fucking losers around here."

Was he calling some of the guys in the house losers? It flew in the face of all my pledge training. I didn't know if he meant it or if I was supposed to be belting out some rote lines about brotherhood.

"You're cool, Ethan," Connor said, seeing the confusion on my face. "Basically, we can roleplay friends and just get drunk together in the house or we can do the real thing. That's why you came up here, right?"

"Yeah, I definitely want to be friends," I answered.

"Me too." He tilted his beer and drained it, tossing the can into the little trash bin beside his desk. "From now on, I want you to know you can always tell me the truth about anything. Don't worry about all the superficial bullshit around here. Making real friends is way more important than just fitting in and getting laid."

My big bro was finally putting me at ease. "Yeah, that's why I was so excited to hang out without all the other guys around tonight."

Connor smiled. "I figured. I probably would have asked for a second little if you'd stayed downstairs. You can open the second one, you know," he said, evidently picking up on the fact that I was nursing an empty can. "Clearly you need the practice!"

"I drank eight downstairs!" I bragged as I cracked open my second PBR, watching Connor gulp down the rest of his and do the same.

"That's it?" His eyebrows arched up. "I want to see you chug that can, bro. Come on, as fast as you can!"

Wanting to impress him, I gave it my best effort, struggling to empty the 16 ounces of beer as quickly as I could. Connor was chugging too, loudly slamming his empty can down on the desk a full thirty seconds before I finished.

"Man, no wonder you won the case race two years in a row," I muttered.

Connor laughed as he tossed the second empty into the trash. "Don't worry, you'll get better. I'll make sure of that. Go grab us a couple more."

I stood up and trekked back to the mini-fridge, returning again with two cans each. I resented most of the menial stuff the brothers made the pledges do, but taking orders from my big bro felt different. He exuded a sense of entitlement and power that was almost irresistible. No wonder he scored all the time.

"You know, you're really lucky to have me, honestly," Connor said as he opened his third beer. "Not to say that I'm the shit, but a lot of the guys you pledged with are going to be complaining that they barely have a relationship with their big. Most of them don't really take this responsibility seriously, but I do. Your grandbig was a great mentor and basically my best friend until he graduated last year."

I nodded. "Maybe that's one of the reasons I felt so drawn to you all along."

"Yeah? You seemed a little scared of me a few minutes ago," he said, absent-mindedly rubbing his bottom lip with his thumb.

"Dude! You were being so fucking intense compared to every other time we've talked!"

Connor grinned. "Just showing you how to be the boss. Don't forget about that when you have a little of your own someday."

"I think I'm learning already."

"Well, little bro, you still have a shit ton to learn. Don't think you're off the hook already. I still have to haze you a little, don't I?" He smirked devilishly like he already had a plan swirling in his mind.

I wondered if locking the door was about to make sense, imagining myself bent over Connor's bed with my bare ass exposed, the paddle from the wall in his hands. "I guess that's up to you."

"No shit." He stretched his thick, hairy legs out, staring down at his shoes before looking back up at me. "You know, I've been on my feet all fucking day. You ever given someone a foot massage before?"

Looking down, I could see Connor wiggling his brown Sperrys on the sparse carpet. I felt myself wince, not sure whether he was serious or not. "Uh, nope, can't say that I have."

"That's a shame. But you're willing to learn, right?"

The idea of rubbing his feet seemed way worse than the paddle, and I knew that was the point. He wanted me to feel embarrassed and humiliated. But why would he want me touching his body like that? I decided he just wanted to see that I was willing to do whatever he asked, to watch me look uncomfortable down beneath him.

"Right?" Connor demanded more authoritatively, his brown eyes drilling into me.

"Yeah, sure," I offered, desperately wishing I'd already cracked my beer open.

He smiled, spreading his legs slightly wider, his blue shorts loose enough that I could almost see up his crotch. "Then get on the ground in front of me."

Sliding off the leather recliner, I slowly crept to the ground, literally kneeling in front of my big bro, his boat shoes pointing up at me. I was honestly expecting Connor to crack up, to offer a hearty "I'm just fucking you with you, bro! Get up!" at any second. But he didn't. Instead, when I glanced up, Connor was staring down at me intently, his expression totally sober.
"Now take my shoes off," he instructed.

I could feel myself looking dumbfounded. "Wait, seriously?"

"Did you forget you're a pledge because I said some nice stuff to you?" he asked tersely. "Seriously, Ethan. Take them off."

My heart started violently pounding in my chest. I didn't want to touch another dude's nasty feet, but I couldn't fathom saying no either. "No problem," I said, repeating my words about carrying the lightsaber around to classes and wearing the pink thong on Fridays. I wrapped my hands around one of Connor's shoes, looking up at him a final time hoping for a reprieve. Nothing. He was stone-faced, just coldly watching me cowering beneath him on the floor. How could this possibly make us closer? I just felt myself resenting him. Maybe he wasn't the guy I thought he was.

I slid one of my hands up to Connor's ankle anyway, lifting his muscular leg off the floor, the other gently pulling the Sperry off his foot. My nose was so close to the shoe and his bare sole that the smell of sweaty feet was instantly overwhelming. There was no way the guy had taken a shower when he'd come back to the house. I stared at the shoe, barely believing that I was on the floor in front of my big bro doing this, and the intensity of the scent made perfect sense: the leather was extensively cracked, the rubber sole almost starting to fray off. He'd probably been wearing these since he was a freshman himself, and they'd clearly never seen a single sock in their whole existence.

"Man, that already feels better! Don't forget the other one," Connor prompted, that authoritative tone obvious in his voice as he wiggled the second shoe.

I set the first Sperry on the ground, letting my big bro's leg down, the heel of his bare foot hitting the carpet. Was that enough? Was he going to tell me to get up and stop? He didn't. I lifted his other leg up the same way, slowly removing the other boat shoe from Connor's foot, another wave of his sweat unleashed straight into my nostrils. I was totally and helplessly awash in his scent as I lowered that leg down to the floor too.

"Now sit up on your legs," he ordered, sounding like he knew exactly what he was doing.

I repositioned myself, pressing my hands to the carpet and pushing my body upright.

Connor lifted his feet up, placing them on my thighs just mere inches away from my dick. "Ok, little bro, give it your best try," he said with a smile. "Help me relax after this long ass day."

Looking up one last time for any hint of a pardon, I knew what I had to do next. I wrapped my hands around one of his feet, starting to softly dig my fingers into his warm skin. The sensations were strangely intimate, and within seconds of touching Connor's body, his intense smell still stuck in my nose, I felt my dick starting to harden. What the fuck! How could I possibly be getting aroused by this? My own body was betraying me!

But I kept going. How could I stop after going that far? Not having a clue what I was doing, I actually studied his feet for the first time. They were big and veiny, maybe size 12, Connor's tan abruptly ending where his absurdly well-worn boat shoes must have so often cradled them. His toes were long, the nails perfectly groomed, a light dusting of fur on the base of each except the big one, where the hair crept up all the way to his ankle. Running my fingers across one of his soles, it was soft and completely smooth. I'd seen enough barefoot bros in the house to appreciate that Connor at least took care of his feet.

/Help me relax/. I kept hearing those words in my mind over and over again as my fingers traced over his skin. I still resented the fact that I was on the ground literally massaging my big bro's feet, but I felt a new urge bubbling up: I actually wanted him to like what I was doing. If I had to do this, I really did want to make him feel good, to help him relax. Yeah, it was weird as hell considering we'd never actually hung out alone together, but in some bizarre way I felt like I was now closer to Connor than any other guy in the frat. I started to wonder if that was the reason he had me doing this.

I stepped my effort up, digging my thumbs into my big bro's sole as I rubbed my other fingers across the top of his foot. I heard his toes popping as I vigorously worked each one, Connor letting out a soft moan. I froze, completely shocked that he'd emitted any audible sign of pleasure. Looking up at his face, he seemed genuinely relaxed, a smile spreading across his face.

"You're doing great, little bro," Connor said gently, his eyes closing as he spread his thighs even wider apart. "Now do the other one."

Being complimented like that, my cock hardened even more. I had no idea why it turned me on, but I couldn't deny that it did. Starting to cast my eyes back toward his feet, I was shocked to notice that he had a raging hard-on too, the outline of a big dick obvious in his loose blue shorts.

Connor's eyes fluttered open when I didn't start touching his other foot, and he laughed dismissively when he realized my gaze was fixed on his obvious erection. "Sorry, can't help that. Always happens when I'm getting touched. But I guess I'm not the only one who got a little aroused," he said, pointing at my shorts.

I panicked as I looked down, the lump in my crotch blatant too. Even worse, there was an unmistakable wet spot where my cock had leaked precum into the fabric. "Shit," I mumbled, afraid to look up again. "I seriously have no idea what that's about!"

Connor chuckled, rubbing his bare soles almost affectionately against my thighs. "You're cool, bro. You're what, 18 or 19? That must happen like ten times a day all on its own!"

"Yeah," I agreed flatly, still embarrassed as hell that he'd noticed. "Sorry about that."

"Well, I wasn't really sorry and you shouldn't be either. Yo, Ethan!"

I instantly made eye contact again.

"You don't ever have to apologize for being horny. We're all fucking horny all the time, man. Now relax and rub my other foot like you were just doing."

Just as I wrapped my hands around Connor's foot, the door knob suddenly turned. I was immediately and infinitely appreciative that he'd made me lock the door when I walked in.

"Fuck off, Plank!" Connor yelled, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "I told you I was bonding with my little tonight!"

I started to jump up off the floor, but my big bro planted his soles firmly into my thighs, leaning over from his chair and holding my shoulders down with his hands.

"Bro, let me get a shirt," a deep voice slurred beyond the door. "I spilled a whole fucking beer."

"You'll fucking spill another one anyway!" Connor yelled right above my head. "Just take it off and prance around like the big goofy giraffe you are. Find some slut with a climbing fetish and go bang her in the basement."

"Come on, bro!" the voice pleaded.

He laughed as he shook his head again. "We're both too drunk and too relaxed to get up and take care of your dumb sloppy ass right now. Fuck off, Plank! Get lost!"

Connor's grip only relented when I heard footsteps thudding down the hallway. He looked down at me and smiled. "Told you he can't handle his booze. You getting uncomfortable in that position?" He didn't wait for me to answer, lifting his feet off my thighs and standing up. Connor planted himself in the battered leather chair, beckoning me back toward him the second I stood up.

I was surprised, assuming the interruption and the risk of getting caught would have deterred him from continuing. But my big bro obviously didn't care.

"What, you thought we were done, pledge?" he asked, almost sounding pissed. "Guess again. Get on your back. Get your face right between my legs."

Hearing Connor tell his roommate that he was busy bonding with his little only made me want to do it more. Is that how he thought of this? Witnessing how unapologetically callous he was with Joey, I actually felt special. However weird the situation was, I stopped thinking my big bro's goal was to humiliate me. None of this seemed malicious at all. My resentment had completely faded away, and now I liked the idea of being closer to him more than ever. I got on my back without a word, positioning my face right between his legs on the recliner.

"A little closer," Connor said, motioning with his fingers.

I slid a few inches toward him. "Better?"

"Perfect, little bro," he answered, that sly smile creeping across his face. "I'm not even going to ask you about this knowing that was your first time ever giving a foot massage. Just go with it."

Before I could even think about what that meant, Connor shoved one of his big pink soles against my face, easily covering half of it. I gasped a little, my nose completely awash in the powerful scent of his feet again, but by now I was resigned to letting him do whatever he wanted to me. My dick, shriveled down to nothing when Joey turned the door knob, instantly sprang back to life.

"Lick it," Connor ordered, his voice a distant whisper above me.

I stuck my tongue out, tasting his salty sweat as he started to trace his foot up and down my face, forcing me to experience every inch of his sole. This time I heard him moaning unapologetically right from the start. After a minute of that, he forced his big toe between my lips, plunging it in and out of my mouth before he started to rub the wet bottom of his foot all over my face again. I didn't even have to be asked to stick my tongue out this time, doing it without even thinking, guided by the obvious sounds of pleasure escaping his mouth. I loved knowing that I was making him feel good.

"That's so fucking good," Connor hissed up above me, shoving more of his long toes into my mouth without any warning at all.

Within thirty seconds I'd managed to plunge down on all of them, working my tongue vigorously against them as Connor basically fucked my mouth with his foot. I didn't understand what was happening at all, but I knew one thing for sure: my dick fucking loved it. I could feel myself leaking precum the entire time, when my big bro suddenly retreated. I looked up at him, seeing that his big bulge had returned to the blue shorts. He was rubbing his hard dick through them right in front of me like it was totally normal.

"I'm going to have to take these off, man," Connor said, instantly starting to unzip his shorts and pulling at the waistband. He tore them off, throwing them across the room, a rock hard 7 inches bordered by a slight bush springing out and thudding against his shirt. "Want to rub one out with me?" he asked, staring down at my bulge. "I know you want to. I can see how fucking hard you are."

I didn't even have a chance to react, his other foot hitting my face. As he rubbed his sole up and down my tongue, my hands desperately struggled to unbuckle my belt.

Connor was laughing up above me, lifting his foot off my face. "Just get them off, little bro! Come on!"

I could see him unrepentantly jerking off in the chair as I finally managed to unleash my belt, pulling my shorts and underwear down in one swoop.

"Nice!" he hissed the second my hard cock popped out. "Yeah, pledge. You like that? You like licking my feet?"

I was so caught up in the moment I couldn't begin to fucking explain it, but I didn't feel ashamed at all knowing that Connor obviously liked it too. "Yeah," I whispered. I started jerking off with him, my dick aching to be touched.

"That's really hot, little bro. You know how good you're making me feel?"

By then it was all I cared about. Connor pressed the heel of his foot straight into my mouth, gliding the whole length of his pink sole up and down my tongue. When he shoved his toes into my mouth for the second time, I sucked on them intensely, intently moaning myself like I was actually enjoying it, and that's when I saw Connor's hand suddenly freeze. White ropes of cum spurted out of his cock up to his chest, painting his shirt, my big bro not groaning, not saying a word, just continuing to vigorously jerk off like nothing had even happened. He was still hard as steel, working his dick like he was eager to cum again. I quickly realized he wasn't going to stop.

Connor pulled his toes out of my mouth, rubbing his wet sole up and down my face over and over again as he moaned. "You like bonding with your big bro?" he asked when he pulled his foot away, looking straight into my eyes.

I started tugging at my cock even harder. "Yeah, big bro," I answered.

He smiled his biggest smile of the night as he shoved both of his feet into my face, completely covering it before he started to alternate the sets of toes he allowed my tongue to lap across, resting his spare foot on my neck. Connor slid the wet digits against my lips and across my nose, planting his sole there and pressing down hard.

"Get a big fucking whiff of that," he ordered.

I was appalled by his smell when I'd first taken his Sperrys off, but now I sniffed like I was desperate for air, letting the scents of feet, saliva, and sweat overtake me. I could see Connor grinning up above me.

"Yeah, you like that smell, don't you?" he taunted.

"I love it," I answered, my voice muffled by his foot. He smelled like masculinity, like power, and now that I was totally under his spell, I actually craved it. My dick was somehow even harder appreciating his scent.

Connor pulled his foot away, shoving the whole thing into my mouth again, my tongue intently working against his toes as he rested his other foot on my cheek. I could hear his breaths growing heavier. "I'm about to fucking cum," he said when he withdrew, dropping both his feet to the floor. "Get up on your knees."

I had absolutely no idea what Connor had in mind, but I did it without a second thought. I felt delirious as I rose up between his legs, his smell all over me.

He stared straight into me, his hand viciously sliding up and down his thick seven inch shaft. "You should put your mouth on it," he growled, his eyes ravenous with lust.

I'd never once fathomed wrapping my mouth around another guy's cock, but I'd never envisioned rubbing a guy's feet, sucking his toes, or jerking off together in the same room together either. With all that talk of being real friends and bonding still bouncing around in my mind, some kind of passion I had no idea I was even capable of unashamedly unleashed, that desire to please Connor, to make him actually enjoy it, mattered more than anything else. I started toward his crotch without bothering to second guess the impulse, just feeling absolutely certain in that moment that both of us wanted whatever was going to happen to happen.

With my heart thunderously pounding, I placed my trembling hands on my big bro's warm, hairy thighs, slowly drawing my face closer to his dick. Every moment felt like eternity, and when I was just a few inches away, the smell of Connor's sweaty balls overtaking the scent already lodged in my nostrils, his face grew more intense. I reached down to touch my own cock as he gave his dick a few furious final strokes, and then he started grunting loudly. A massive load of hot white cum, this one even bigger than the first, sprayed out up to his neck, spurt after violent spurt, his white shirt yet again painted with ropes of jizz. Watching him cum for the second time sent me over too, a mind-blowing orgasm overtaking my whole body as my seed shot out all over the carpet in front of the leather chair. All I could smell and taste was his pungent sweat, my whole face wet with my own spit. As soon as the pleasure retreated, I worried my big bro was going to turn on me, treating me the same heartless way he'd addressed his roommate.

Connor panted for a few seconds as he came down, and then he chuckled heartily like nothing unusual had happened, shaking his softening dick against his stomach as he ran his free hand through my hair. He playfully pushed my head away.

"Holy shit, were you actually going to do it?" he asked in a whisper. "I was just kidding, bro. I would never make you go that far!"

I was completely tongue-tied and more confused than ever as Connor stood up in front of me, his cock finally deflated. He walked bare-assed the few steps toward his open closet, tossing me a hand towel.

"Clean that shit up, though," he demanded gruffly. "We don't need anyone else knowing about what just happened."