The water glinted a bottle-green hue, still as glass, and the sun was already peeking from behind the hills, threatening us with its heat by the time we got to the old shed. Throughout our little journey, Adrian had kept his mouth shut, content with walking right behind me, carrying a bucket which we were supposed to bring back full of fish.
I didn’t pay him any mind. Maybe he wasn’t a morning person, I thought. How could he be? He loved the night, staying up late, and doing things he shouldn’t do with his stepbrother.
On the other hand, I had my head full. Adrian, obviously, loved to play the long game, which meant that he was about to be in for a rude awakening. While I enjoyed, to a degree, placing myself in danger, hoping for punishment, when other people got involved, the game changed.
In other words, I didn’t want him to get hurt. A guy like him, doing gay things with his stepbrother, in a small town like ours? Maybe it’d work in the big city, once we got to college and we were on our own—
“Fuck me sideways,” I heard him exclaiming.
Ah, he’d spotted the shed. The old boards still presented some faint marks of the red paint someone had used before the place became the property of my dad. For all his talk, my father wasn’t that keen on protecting his ‘investment’. As I said, he never spent money on things he didn’t find valuable. Like me. He’d drilled into my head that I had to get into college and do it on my own. It worked for me. I wanted – badly – to get away from home. The so-called sabbatical year helped put together a bit of money aside. I was counting on my little stash to break free for good once I left for college.
I sneered. “Impressed so much already? You wanted this shit.”
He gasped in fake outrage. “Jo, language. Seriously, all that education, gone to pits. Good thing you got into college. Maybe they’ll polish your rough edges there.”
That reminded me. “Are you for real about sharing a dorm room? I could use some privacy. From you,” I added for good measure.
I opened the shed door, after having to shake the keys in the lock a couple of times. The interior was as bad as I expected – sunbaked, dusty, and disgusting.
“Where are we supposed to take a dump?” Adrian asked, as soon as he peered inside.
The small room looked dismal, with its narrow cot pushed against the wall, the various tin cans filled with lures that must’ve been bought a century earlier if I knew my father well enough, and the single rod hanging on two nails hammered to the wall.
“We’re roughing it out,” I told him. “That means--”
“Shitting outside,” he said with a shrug. “Wait, do we at least have toilet paper?”
I patted the old rucksack I carried there on my back. “Everything you need is in here.”
He grinned at me and pushed me inside. “Yeah, that checks out,” he said, pleased as pie. “Starting with you.”
How long till we left for college? I did the math quickly – about a month. I was only so entertaining to Adrian because he didn’t have anything to do.
“Stop it,” I grunted as he continued to push me toward the cot.
I eventually fell on it. Adrian remained standing in front of me, grinning and feeling his crotch.
“What were you saying, Jo? That you’d like me to force you to take my cock?”
“You’re hit in the head. I’ve never said that.”
Yeah, maybe, but I was already licking my lips, expecting Adrian to take the lead once more. As long as he forced all these things on me, it would all be alright. I wouldn’t exactly be a sinner.
Who the hell was I kidding? My worries were of a different nature, even at the time, but I wasn’t brave enough to voice them out loud. They’d come to pass later when we shared a dorm room, as established by our parents.
“I just love,” he drawled, “how standoffish you are. It wouldn’t work if you were less pretty, though, so don’t push your luck.”
I wanted to push him away from me, to make the game last longer. The more we did, the better the chances were that he’d get fed up with me, and I didn’t want that just yet. As long as fishing went, I didn’t care about lures and lying in wait for the fish to bite, but when it came to him, if I’m completely honest, I wanted to lure him and make him bite.
Yeah, twisted, I know.
I stared as he opened his fly and took out his cock. He rubbed it with slow moves, right in front of my eyes, goading me to do something.
If my religious upbringing taught me something, it must’ve been restraint. Although my dick hurt from being hard for my stepbrother, I didn’t even look at his hand and what it was doing to his beautiful cock.
I looked at him, waiting, my face giving nothing away.
He smiled, and it was the good kind of smile, not a grin, not a smirk. It was the kind of smile that made my heart jolt. He messed me up the worst when he smiled like that. If it had all been nothing but sexual, it would’ve passed.
It wasn’t meant to pass, though. Adrian pushed the tip of his cock into my cheek and moved it across my skin, his eyes never leaving mine. It should’ve played out as a game of dominance, but we both knew that wasn’t the case.
I moved my head slowly until my lips met the mushroom head of his cock. My tongue slipped out, caressing it gently. The soft moans escaping his lips were my everything in that moment.
Would he be honest? Would I? We were the youngest we could be for us to meet like that, and it didn’t help.
“Stop fooling around, Jo,” he growled playfully.
That brought things back to reality. I played with imagining things; they were my best way to delude myself. And when it hurt, it hurt good.
“Make me,” I said to him.
And he listened. Shifting his legs apart to gain momentum, he wrapped one hand around the back of my head and pushed his cock inside my waiting mouth.
I moaned around his girth. I knew what I was doing. He was my sinful undoing, and I worshipped every second of it.
“Fuck, you’re a natural,” he praised me.
I had paid attention to every tiny second the day he sucked me off. Not to completion, because I worried of what it’d do to me to have him blow me to the point of swallowing my load, but it had been enough of a lesson in cocksucking. So, if he was good, I was good, too.
He tasted like heaven. It must be true that only bad boys can make you know heaven here on this humble Earth. He was mine, even if an upside down version of it, so much so that it was equally hell.
My fate was sealed. As I began sucking his cock in earnest, I knew how much I wanted him and how impossible it had to be for this to be more. Beyond this summer, this stolen moments inside my father’s weathered fishing shed, there would be nothing. But for a glimpse of real happiness, I was willing to endure what came after.
Or so I thought. Adrian would teach me, again and again, that I knew nothing and that no one chose for themselves how their future would play out.
Elation – it was the word I’d choose to describe what I was going through. If my prayers had ever mentioned him, even by mistake, they were fully answered now. I used both my hand and my mouth, desperate to get him off. I wanted to feel his taste on my tongue, to get a little part of him and make it mine, so it’d keep me company, even if just as a memory, for the rest of my years alive.
“Fuck, Jo,” he whispered. His fingers scraped my scalp while his cock grew harder and bigger inside my mouth.
I didn’t even know precisely what I was doing. My tongue kept moving, eager to taste every little patch of skin available, but especially his precum, leaking from the tip. The moment I felt another drop, I cleaned it well. My hand moved, finding its own rhythm, while I furiously worked his cock with my mouth.
Unlike before, I knew we’d be alone here. Only my father would entertain astonishing ideas such as anyone being capable of catching any fish in this particularly God-forsaken spot.
“You’re good at this. Fuck, I knew you’d be good,” he continued whispering.
Other sounds tore out of him. He cursed a lot, and I loved it. In his mouth, my name kept good company to a litany of questions he’d answer himself. All his replies found me guilty of making him come undone, which gave me all the assurance I needed that I guided my companion down the most sinful of paths.
“I’m gonna blow. Fuck, Jo, I’m gonna blow,” he moaned helplessly.
Just what I wanted him to do. I increased my efforts. I opened my jaw wider, I took him as deep as I could and beyond, until I began to choke, and not for one moment did I forget to use my tongue to tease him and lick his cock all over.
“Take it,” he ordered, though his words sounded more like a plea. “Take my fucking load, Jo.”
I couldn’t let him have his way so easily. As I said, I was certain the novelty of having his stepbrother suck his dick would wear off for Adrian. So I pulled his cock out of my mouth and beat it against my tongue, while I watched him, my eyes half-closed.
It was too much, even for an experienced guy like him. He blew his load, all over my tongue and face. It even got in my eye, and though it stung, I endured it. I saw myself mirrored in his eyes; the way he looked at me like he couldn’t believe that a boring, dull guy like me could make him lose it, that was my most important reward.
I played lazily with the cum in my mouth. It was sticky and salty, but under the circumstances, it was the best thing I could possibly get from him. Slowly, with trembling fingers, I gathered the rest of it from my face, hungry for it.
And all throughout this vulgar display of mine, he watched me with a wanton expression on his face that said as much about him as it said about me.
“Done here?” I asked, smiling, knowing that I won this round.
Adrian laughed and stepped back, allowing me to search my rucksack for some tissues. My eye would get red over the next hours. It’d remind him of how he shot so hard that he got me in the eye. It gave me a perverted satisfaction to know that.
Because Adrian knew how to feel guilty, which, at first, was a complete surprise for me. But then, again, I’d learn many things about my stepbrother during the college year to come.
“I want to kiss you,” he announced as if he was asking for my permission.
I threw him an exasperated look, to show him who was in charge.
But my victory didn’t last long. Adrian grabbed my face and forced me to get up and meet him half-way. I’ll never forget how his lips felt on my mouth back then; like me, surprisingly so, he knew a lot more about communicating his thoughts and feelings through physical acts than through words, like other people.
Yeah, we were so alike in some ways, yet so different in others. Like our general attitude toward hope. I had none. He had too much.
That was his mistake.
tbc
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