Setting Todd Straight

A slightly harder-edged story than is usual for me, but I had a lot of fun with this Xmas Tale from the first season, back when gay marriage had just been made legal. Spencer and Todd will make a return in a new adventure this season, too...

“It’s shameful, how Christians are under attack in this country,” Charlotte proclaimed as she passed the potatoes. “And that poor woman down in Kentucky, thrown in jail for standing up for her beliefs.”

“Like a criminal,” Todd nodded, as I stared at them. “It’s persecution, what was done to her, and all the others.”

“Exactly,” Charlotte nodded vigorously, looking around the table at the rest of us. “Her faith is protected speech, and her faith forbids her from playing any part in those sham marriages the activists are trying to shove down our throats.”

There were a lot of reasons why I didn’t like my sister-in-law. She was religious, which was fine - each to their own, and all that - but she was one of those sanctimonious types, literally holier-than-thou. But what I disliked most about Charlotte was how she’d rubbed off on my big brother, the ways she’d made him change to conform to her ideas of how the world should be. This was their first Christmas with our family - their first Christmas as a married couple was with her parents, of course, and I’m sure that was a real fun time - and they already had two babies with them. Cute kids, shame about their mother.

Shame about my brother, too. Todd had always been a big, easygoing, friendly kind of dude. Not real talkative or forceful a personality, pretty laidback. Popular with the girls, with his sweet nature, big football-player build and boy-next-door looks. We’d been pretty chill brothers, had a lot of great times together, but all that was history now. BC - Before Charlotte. Now, he was pretty much her yes-man, her bag-carrier, the strong provider. He didn’t curse, rarely drank, even had one of those stupid “Real Men Love Jesus” bumper stickers. Talked about the Promise Keepers a lot. I barely recognized him anymore.

“‘Sham marriages’?” I said. I looked at Mom and Dad, Mom giving me a subtle head-shake, Dad looking at the turkey with great interest, staying right the hell out of it. Charlotte gave me a glittering, blood-in-the-water smile. I was no one-man pride parade or anything, but I’d never made any bones about the fact that I was a gay dude, and it was never a problem for Todd or our folks. But for Charlotte, it was A Problem. A Big One.

“It’s the law of the land,” I said. “That woman swore to uphold it, not pick and choose. She doesn’t get to decide who gets equal rights.”

“Oh yeah, 'equality,' right, the big buzzword,” she said, actually using air quotes, rolling her eyes. “What about equality for people of faith, Spencer? Don’t we get our equal rights too?”

“We really should be able to live out our faith in our public lives,” Todd said. “It’s our constitutionally protected right. Unlike gay marriage.”

I just stared at Todd, who was doing his best to avoid my eyes. I knew who Charlotte was, alright, but who the fuck was this guy? What happened to the big, live-and-let-live dude who’d gone to the gay bar with me a few times when we were both in college, danced with his shirt off, high on all the free drinks he’d scored from thirsty gay dudes? The one who’d beat some kid’s ass my junior year in high school for calling me a faggot?

The one who’d gotten high the night of my high school graduation, dragged me out of the party to his car, and sucked a load out of my cock, telling me he’d always been curious, and it was cool because we were brothers?

The one who’d moaned my name when I arrived at UVA after that summer, bucked his big, thick-muscled ass up in the air, and let me fuck a load into him as we rutted on his frat house bed?

I missed that guy. We’d had a lot of good times together, before he married this bitch. I didn’t know this guy, but I was bitterly disappointed in him all the same.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said in disgust. “Really, Todd?”

He just shrugged weakly, looking fixedly down at his plate, as Charlotte kept smiling that sharklike fake smile of hers.

“He’s right, Spencer,” she said. “It’s not even settled law. Just a decision by a group of unelected activist judges, caving in to the loudest voices in the room. Your people’s voices, Spencer. The vocal minority.”

“I think maybe we should talk about something else,” Mom said, but I was already done. I tossed my napkin down and pushed my chair back.

“Nah, I’ve heard enough from her,” I said. “Apologies to you, Mom and Dad. Todd, I’m sorry you’ve got to live the rest of your life with this sanctimonious bigot. And I’m sorry you changed. I miss you, and I hope I see the real you again sometime.”

I wasn’t trying to be dramatic, or disappoint my parents, but I hadn’t driven 250 miles for this shit. Most of all, I couldn’t stand the sense of disappointment and betrayal I felt in my big brother.

Instead, I pulled up Scruff on my phone, found an old fuckbud I hadn’t seen in awhile, and went over to his place to smoke a bowl and fuck his tight little ass. And the whole time, I thought about Todd, the big muscles flexing under the smooth, sweat-glowing skin of his back, the way his thick, ex-linebacker’s ass had jiggled as I fucked it. The way he’d moaned my name, and feasted on my cum-slicked tongue, tasting his own seed on it as I fed it to him.

“Fuck, dude,” my buddy said as we sprawled out on his bed afterwards. “I’d almost forgotten how good a fuck you can throw. You’re definitely in the holiday spirit,” he chuckled, passing me the bowl.

“Family, man - they can drive you nuts sometimes,” I said before hitting it. He was already running his hand up the muscles of my stomach and over my pecs as I exhaled the smoke.

“Well fuck, feel free to take that energy out on me anytime, bud,” he grinned, leaning in to suck on my nip. “In fact, why don’t you bring that fine rugby-player ass of yours back over here, and we’ll see if we can’t ease that tension some more.”

So I did, and we did, and still I wound up jerking out a half-angry load back in my old bed when I got home, remembering very clearly the night I copped Todd’s ass cherry in it, the summer before college. "Well, those days are gone now," I thought as I swiped the cum off my stomach with my discarded boxer briefs. Or so I thought.

*  *  *  *  *

Dad knocked on my bedroom door the next morning and poked his head in.

“Taking your mother and Charlotte to the mall for the sales,” he said, with the air of a condemned man. “There’s fresh coffee on. Your brother’s staying back to look after the babies. Maybe you guys can find some time to catch up.”

“Maybe,” I shrugged. At this point, I’d rather dive into the chaos of Wal-Mart and the post-Christmas frenzy. Dad looked disappointed, but I knew he understood.

Instead, I slipped on my crusty boxer briefs and went for a long, sweaty run. Did some bodyweight exercises on the kids’ play gym down at the park. Jogged home the long way. Anything to avoid spending time with my brother. I slipped in through the back door, straight upstairs to shower, already thinking I should hit Scruff again and see what was up. I guess I had a lot of pent-up energy to expend. I got a hit back, decided to go meet the dude for coffee, and put on my best hookup Calvin briefs. I was just slipping into my jeans when I heard the knock on my door, followed by Todd poking his head around it.

“Oh… sorry, Spence,” he said, seeing me with my jeans at half-mast, shirtless. But he didn’t look away, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to pretend modesty and cover myself for him. Let him chew on the sight for a minute.

“Uh-huh,” I said disinterestedly, pulling my jeans most of the way up but leaving them unbuttoned as I looked in my bag for a shirt. I knew my ass was popping over the top of my jeans, and I knew Todd liked my ass. It was thick and powerful like his, but unlike him, I still played sports, even if it was just club rugby, and I knew how I looked.

“Kids are lights-out,” he said after a minute staring at my back, watching me dressing. “Figured maybe we could catch the Bond marathon on Spike or something. Always was the best part of Christmas, right?”

I turned to look at him, the half-hopeful smile on his face. Goddammit, he still looked good, even wearing all that Brooks Brothers bullshit Charlotte made him put on, with his blond hair cut all conservative and churchy, a little bit of new-dad thickness happening around his waist. Even a fucking Christmas sweater, for Christ’s sake. But underneath all that, still those big shoulders, the deep chest, the thick thighs, the high, round muscular ass. I’d still fuck him, if he wasn’t such a goddamn sellout little bitch.

“Think I’m gonna go see a friend, actually,” I said, tugging my jeans the rest of the way up over my ass, still leaving them unbuttoned.

“Oh… a friend, huh,” he said, looking disappointed.

“Friend, fuckbuddy, whatever,” I said. “Gonna go get laid. With another dude. Fuck around with him. Have a whole lot of hot gay sex, just like I did last night, bro. Like I like to do, as a gay man. You remember what that’s like, right Todd?”

He blushed hard, and got this stern look on his face that I’d never seen before. A total Dad look. One our actual Dad had used on us a whole lot.

“Look, Spence, I know you’re probably still upset about last night, but there’s no need to-”

“Upset?” I spat, in disbelief. “Doesn’t even begin to cover it, bro. I’m fucking pissed, Todd. Pissed at your wife for throwing that shit in my face, and pissed at you for sitting there and letting her. Fucking joining in with her on it. Turning your back on me, your own brother, for some fucking born-again church hypocrisy. The kind of thing we used to roll our eyes at, and laugh about. You and me, together.”

“Spencer, you don’t understand. My life is different now, I’ve renounced all of that-”

“Here’s what I understand, bro,” I growled, stepping around my bed and close to him. “You remember the night before your wedding? When you came to the door of my hotel room, scared of what you were about to do? Of who you might become?”

“Of course, that’s just typical pre-wedding jitters, you wouldn’t underst-”

“Don’t you fucking dare tell me what I would or wouldn’t understand, Todd,” I seethed, remembering there were sleeping babies in the house, and my on-the-pitch bellow would be a little much for them.

“You became that person, Todd. The one you were so scared to be. Even though you knew that wasn’t you. And before you did, you came to me, to my arms, to my fucking bed. You came to me to hold you and kiss you and tell you I’d always be there for you. That we’d never change.”

He stared at the floor, silent, a look of pure misery on his face.

“And then you begged me to fuck you, brother. Begged me to put my cum inside you again. And you loved it, Todd. You always did. Swallowing it, taking it up the ass, putting your fucking cock inside of me. I loved all that too. You were my first for a lot of that shit, and you’re still my fucking gold standard, bro.”

“I’m not that person anymore, Spence,” he said in a quiet, miserable voice.

“No, you’re a person I don’t recognize. A person I don’t really like very much anymore, Todd.”

I stepped up closer to him, so he could hear the low, angry intent in my voice.

“But you seemed like that person when you came right back to me after your honeymoon. You drove your ass all the way to Charlottesville just to have it stuffed by your little brother, just like old times. And when Charlotte was pregnant and you were blueballing it, you came to me again. And again. Yeah, I get why we had to stop. I figured it had run its course.”

He looked up at me now, and there were tears in his eyes. Shame too. Shame for what, I wasn’t sure. Either way, he was hurting, and though I prided myself on being a decent, stand-up dude, a big part of me relished that. But shit, there was that old needy spark in his eyes too, the one I remembered so well…

“And now, here you are again, knocking at my door. Wanting to hang, just like old times. Just you and me, Todd. Just like you didn’t renounce everything about me last night, to side with your fucking wife.”

He got these twin spots of red on his cheeks, the sign he was getting pissed.

“Don’t you dare talk about my wife that way, Spencer. You’ve never bothered to get to know her, really, so I don’t think-”

“Dude, fuck your wife!” I spat. “She’s not my family, you are, but you made it pretty clear last night that you don’t care about that anymore. So don’t you fucking dare come to me to lecture me about shit, bro. Don’t say another fucking thing. Unless you’re gonna get down on your fucking knees and apologize to me, you can get the fuck outta here, Todd.”

He stared hard at me, his chest heaving slowly, like mine was. We could look like two sides of a mirror sometimes, and I bet we did right now. Like we did when we fucked. His O-face was a lot like mine. Thinking of that, of his face mirroring mine as I fucked us both to a hard cum, really got to me. Sneaked in there, with all the anger and hurt. I was already starting to get keyed up to go fuck around with this Scruff rando, so the telltale tingling in my balls, groin and cock was no big surprise. I knew I was starting to fill the pouch of these little CK briefs even better. And when Todd’s eyes flicked down at it, and he blushed because he knew I’d seen him do it, just like he always blushed when I caught him scoping me out, I suddenly knew what I truly wanted out of this whole deal.

“Are you here to get down on your knees, Todd?” I said, my voice low and deep and insinuating. The voice I used to use in his ear when I wanted to get him riled up to fuck around.

“Come on, Spence, don’t start with that, I can’t-” he protested weakly, but I cut him off by clamping my hand hard on his big shoulder, exerting a little downward pressure on the thick, beefy, muscle-dense mass of it.

“You telling me you don’t miss the way your little brother’s seven inches feels in your mouth, Toddy?” I said, reverting to my old name for him. “How it tastes? That you’ve forgotten how to open your throat up and take me all the way down to the root, big bro?”

He gave out a helpless little noise, kind of like the noises he used to make when I thrust my cock up into his ass real deep. I leaned in close to murmur directly into his ear.

“You telling me you can’t remember how it feels to have my tongue up your ass, getting you all wet and ready to get fucked, bro? How hard that big dick of yours gets when I get my cock all the way up inside of you?”

Seriously, Todd’s got a big dick like mine, and it always hardened up like a piece of rebar when I slid mine into him, mouth or ass. He was a legitimate born bottom. Becoming a born-again religious fool didn’t take that away. Once a bottom, always a bottom.

I looked down between us, past the gentle swell of his little paunch in that stupid red Christmas sweater, and saw that yes, he still had it in him. Or more to the point, he wanted it in him. Because that big big-brother cock was thickening up the front of his fancy jeans very nicely indeed. So I pressed down a little more on his shoulder, and felt him starting to give, starting to sink to the carpet.

“Are you saying you don’t remember how it feels inside to look up into my eyes, take my cock in your hand, and say to me, 'Feed me your cum, Spence?'”

Todd whimpered again, and now he really was kneeling, his eyes big and blue and hungry and tormented all at once. I was hard as fuck, my cock tenting the little pouch of the CKs, my fly wide open. So I reached down with my free hand and tugged my jeans down past my knees. Let my big bro see me in all my hard, fit glory. I knew he liked the dirty-blond hair that had started to thicken up real nicely on my stomach and chest. The way my whole body had thickened up real nicely, come to think of it. How substantial I looked now. A lot like he did at my age. But most of all, how substantial and thick I was in my CKs, because his eyes moved down over my bare chest, down my stomach, and zeroed in on my bulge. So I reached down, hooked my thumbs inside of my briefs, and tugged them down to join my jeans, watching his eyes get all big as my cock snapped out, thick and hard and ready to play.

“Tell me you don’t remember all the times it was you and me, just like this, big bro,” I said in a quieter voice, because he was there now, right where I wanted him to be. Where I needed him to be.

“I do,” he whispered softly, staring at my big dick with naked yearning.

“I can’t hear you, bro,” I said.

“I do!” he said more forcefully, looking up at me with big, shiny, hungry eyes.

I reached out and cupped the back of his head, fingers digging into his dorky church-boy haircut, and pulled his handsome face closer to the proud jut of my cock.

“So show me how well you remember all of that, bro,” I said, and he moaned and lunged at me, grabbing hold of my cock and stuffing it into his mouth like a starving man going after a piece of cake.

Damn. He sure hadn’t lost his touch, and I wondered what all those Jesus-loving bros of his at his Promise Keepers meetings would say if they could see him now, swallowing his own little brother’s thick, hard, gay cock all the way to the root, his nose buried in my bush, slobbering and slurping and grunting and moaning to himself as he serviced me.

“You’re too good at this to ever give this up, bro,” I said, looking down at him, and for the first time in my life, I was kind of getting off on the hot mix of shame and hunger and adoration in his eyes. So I took hold of both sides of his head, locked eyes with him hard, and started to fuck his face.

I’d had ideas about Todd and his internal complexes and how much he loved fucking around with me, especially the first time I ever really face-fucked him, in that crappy-ass fraternity house of his on Rugby Road. Big Todd on his knees on the dingy living room carpet while his brothers and their dates were all at the Cavs game, with a mouth full of his teenage freshman brother’s ex-wrestler dick, his big hands holding tight to the flexing muscles of my ass and helping me to facefuck him until I got the hang of it on my own. Man, that had been a hot time, the risky thrill of it, that one of his stupid frat brothers might wander his drunk ass back to the house early, like we had, and find us there, committing one of the ultimate sexual taboos all over the living room floor. Nobody had, though, but we were so charged up from all of that that I bent him over the back of the sofa and fucked another load into him, slapping his big, beefy ass for good measure, and filing it all away for future reference.

Generally, I’m more of a lover, a pleasure-oriented dude, a sensualist. But right now, I was feeling the cold, hard steel of that vibe, and I guess it really clicked for me, what draws people into that side of sex. Power. Control. Riding the edge, and then pushing it further. So I let Todd slobber enthusiastically on my cock for a little while there, and then I yanked him up by the collar of his stupid festive sweater and pushed him in the direction of my bed.

“Pants off, now,” I said, as I pushed my jeans and briefs off and kicked them aside.

“C’mon, Spence, I don’t-” he protested weakly as he stared at my naked body, my hard, spit-shiny cock leading the way as I moved towards him.

“Fuck you, Todd,” I barked. “Today, you do. So do it. Get those jeans down.”

I had my best poker face on, but inside, I was surprised and fascinated by how quickly he complied, shucking his designer dad jeans and his boxer briefs down his thick, powerful thighs. He’d always gotten super-excited with me, so the hardness of his big wife-fucking dick was no surprise. Neither was the quickness with which he turned around and showed me his ass, still as big and thick and hard-muscled as I remembered it, with a thicker layer of beef coating the muscles beautifully. I love good ass. It’s one of the fringe benefits of playing rugby. Todd’s was one of my favorites, and as he bent over my bed and turned it up for me like he always used to do, I went in for the kill.

Usually I’d take my time and really munch on his big ass, get him good and loose and moaning and leaking for me as I ate him out, but today wasn’t about pleasing him. He’d taken something from me last night at the dinner table, and now I was going to take something back in return, here on my bed. So I gave my big, angry dick a coating of lube, thumbed some over his pulsing, hairy hole, and then clapped my hands on his big, beefy, blond-furred rump and slid all the way home inside of him in one long, solid thrust.

“Ah FUCK!” he bellowed, and it was the first time I’d heard him curse in nearly two years. I stifled a laugh, then remembered the sleeping kids, and that’s when my eye fell on the sweaty, cum-crusted boxer briefs I’d cleaned my load up with last night, then worn on my run this morning. I grinned to myself as I reached down for them, and before he knew what I was doing, I’d stuffed them into his moaning mouth. He grunted and moaned, his face flushed with a mix of shame and pleasure that told me everything I needed to know about my big brother.

“Fuck yeah, suck on my fucking old loads, bro,” I growled, giving his ass a smack that set off a sexy ripple in the beefy flesh, and set to fucking him hard and deep and fast.

This was no pleasure fuck, this was pure aggression and heat, all business. But there was a kind of pleasure in that too, and when Todd’s big ass started to buck back as he got into fucking himself on me, just like the old days, I gave his ass another sharp smack.

“Fuck yeah, you haven’t changed a bit, Todd, you fucking bottom slut,” I growled, sort of amazed at how easily I slipped into the tone and the language. “Still love a big gay load up your thick fucking ass, don’t you, bro?”

“Mmm-mmmmmph,” was all he could manage around my soiled shorts. And damn if he wasn’t actually sucking on them like a baby with a pacifier.

“Think about this the next time you want to run your fuckin’ mouth about some anti-gay bullshit, big bro,” I grunted, starting to really sweat now, and definitely feeling the intensity of the fuck in my lower body. Fucking like this was a hell of a workout. I’d have to remember that.

“Think about how good it feels getting your big ass stuffed with some hard, gay cock,” I went on, leaning over his big, powerful back. “Hard, gay little brother cock, Todd.”

He growled at that, reached up and yanked my spit-soaked boxer briefs from his mouth. His face was flushed and sweaty and alive when he whipped his head around, that intense look of need and lust and pure manly fuck-heat I remembered so well. That I’d really missed, honestly.

“Dammit Spence, I need you to cum in me, bro,” he panted.

“Oh yeah?” I grinned maliciously. “You want my cum, big brother?”

“Fuck, you know I do, bro,” he moaned.

“Tell me you’re sorry,” I said, pausing my thrusts. Which was good, because I really was going to cum. It had snuck up on me, quick and hard and aggressive, like the fuck I was throwing him.

“I’m sorry, dude,” he half-whimpered.

“Tell me you’ll fucking get right, Todd,” I growled. “That you’ll remember who I am. Remember who you are.”

“I will, Spence, I will… you’re my brother. You’re my little brother, and I was wrong, and I fucking love you, dude.”

“Good boy,” I said, giving his ass another hard slap, making it jiggle and making him grunt. Making him push back on my cock even more, too.

“You want my cum now, Toddy?”

“Fuck, I do, Spence, you know I do, please…” he moaned.

So I yanked my cock out of him, throbbing and slick with lube and precum and not happy to give up its warm, tight, familiar home. Todd wasn’t happy either, giving a little howl of frustration, but he didn’t have the wits about him to resist me when I slid my arms under his beefy torso and flipped him on his back. He stared up at me, stunned and lusty, his cock leaking precum as it arced in the air. I climbed up, straddling him, and knee-walked my way up to his crotch, my cock throbbing in one hand, and reached down to take hold of his in the other.

“Here, since you want it so bad… since you’ve always wanted it so bad, bro,” I grunted, and doubletimed my stroking with both hands. I watched his body tighten up, his O-face coming on, all sweat-glowing and full of naked, hungry lust. He didn’t have time to stop me as I growled, grunted and finally unleashed a torrent of cum from my cock. Even with three loads shot last night, it was a big one, real big, thick pearly jets of hot cum arcing out of my cockslit, hitting his cock, his face, and best of all, painting that stupid, ugly sweater Charlotte had no doubt been delighted to give him.

“Oh no,” he moaned, seeing the mess I was making of him, and so I gave his big dick the slick-handed corkscrew that I knew would bring him over the line, every time, and I added his own pent-up cumload to mine.

When he was finally done blasting off, nearly ten shots later, his sweater looked like a Jackson Pollock reject. I was very pleased with my work, as I sat back on my heels and pushed out a deep, satisfied breath. Looked over at my bedside clock.

“They’re probably gonna be home soon, bro,” I smiled, clambering up off him and slowly milking the last drips of my load from my cock, into my palm. When I presented it to him, he only hesitated for a moment before ducking his head in to lick my palm clean hungrily. Jesus - I might have broken him.

He could barely look at me as he hauled his big, sexy ass up off my bed, collecting his jeans and underwear from the floor as he headed to my bedroom door.

“Hey, I think you forgot something, bro,” I said, stepping over to meet him. He looked at me, confused, but when I leaned in and pressed my lips to his, there was only a moment’s hesitation before he parted them and let my tongue inside his mouth, meeting it with his own.

I kissed him for a solid couple minutes, loving the little whimpering moans he was starting to give off, and then I broke the kiss, put one hand on his freshly-fucked ass, and pushed him out the door. I leaned my arm up on the door jamb as I watched him head down the hall to his old bedroom.

“We good now, bro?” I called after him - softly, so as not to disturb the babies.

He turned in his doorway, giving me a long, quiet look that I couldn’t read. Then he slowly smiled, blushing bashfully, and nodded.

“Yeah, we’re good, little bro,” he said. “Thanks. I’m sorry.” Then he closed the door behind him, and I heard the shower in his bathroom starting up.

The Scruff message icon was showing on my phone when I went back to my own bathroom.

>Running a little behind, we still good? the message read.

I smiled. Thought about it for a second. Then started typing back.

>>Yeah bud, got held up myself, jumping in shower now. See you in 30?

Amazingly, my cock was already starting to show a little interest. What I needed now, after that, was a nice, slow, deep session. Something to take the edge off, a little. After all, I knew now that I could get that edge back, any time I wanted it. I was pretty sure Todd would be game to help me out with that, now. And once we got the harder, edgier stuff out of the way, we might be able to start getting back to the longer, slower, sweeter stuff we’d always done so well together. 

Fuck Charlotte. I was going back to fucking her husband again. I couldn’t wait to see her hateful little shrew face, and know that I’d just blasted her husband’s with my cum.

This Christmas was really starting to look up.

The End (for now...)

(Copyright A4F Tales 2020)