What The Hell Just Happened?

This chapter and the rest of the story is dedicated to everyone to whom I regretfully replied,

“No, sorry, no plans for a sequel.”

I pull myself over the sill and thump to the bedroom floor, making too much noise, and I freeze. Please don’t wake Mom and Dad! When I don’t hear irate footsteps clattering down the stairs I relax, then tense again, glancing around to find I am indeed in my own space; last week I counted windows wrong and fell into my brother’s bedroom, and he was none too pleased, as I’d interrupted him spanking. I shiver remembering the shiny girth of the cock quivering against his smooth belly. Lucky twerp; I swear, everybody in the world’s got a bigger dick than me, even my short-ass little brother. Worse, when I made it to my own bed and passed out, I had the weirdest dream, where I was sitting on the twerp, grinding on his –

Nope, not going there. I clamber to my feet, swaying a little, and adjust my twitching peanut. Although I chugged a couple beers I’m more stoned than drunk, able to walk mostly normal, and I tiptoe with exaggerated grace down the hall to the john for a piss. On the way back I stop at the twerp’s closed door, lay my ear to the wood. He must not be jerking off, I don’t hear the usual squeaking bedsprings or low, muffled groans. I’m oddly disappointed, but only because it might have been fun to bust in on him. To mess with him, not to get another look at his thick dick or anything. I’m not a glutton for punishment.

My balls tighten and my peanut shifts in my pants again, and I groan and rearrange as I tiptoe back to my room. Fucking figures. Slut at the park was all over me, rubbing and licking and doing everything but demand I fuck her pussy, and I couldn’t be bothered. Didn’t feel like it. Now, though, now I’m horny. Ugh.

Well, God gave me a right hand and a jar of slick for a reason.

I strip down, taking a moment to wipe the sweat from my chest and ass with my dirty shirt (fuck, I wish Dad would invest in air conditioning) before plonking onto my bed. My dick is completely hard now, the puny thing barking like a chihuahua convinced he’s a doberman. My balls drawing up, my asshole twitching. I open the jelly, slick up my hand and grab hold, slowly stroke up and down, thinking about the chick from the park. I can’t recall exactly what she looks like but she’s got nice tits and a bubble ass. I replay her kisses, her kneading hands, but my dick yawns, bored, so I spice up the fantasy. I imagine spinning her around to her hands and knees, the way they’d done me so many times in juvie, spit-roasting me in the shower while the Sarge watched and took pictures of the abuse. There we go, my dick perks up again thinking about taking the slut doggy-style. She likes it, rutting back on me and moaning, despite the puniness of my peanut. She’d really like some of the dicks in juvie; almost every single one of them were bigger than mine, despite the boys themselves being much smaller. I wince, remembering how they forced me down to the tile. I may be physically strong and imposing, but two or three or four smaller, younger guys working together (or sometimes even just one determined little guy) are impossible to beat. I fought ‘em but they just kept coming, shoving their dicks in my mouth and up my ass, especially the bulky and mean dude who always seemed to take the most pleasure in –

Goddammit, stop! That shit’s in the past, I don’t need to think about it, about him, anymore! Especially when I’m jerking off! It just confuses me, makes my asshole twitch for no good reason. Determined to get my spank back on track I push back the mean dude's savage grin and bring to mind a recent memory, from the night I got out of juvie, when me and a couple of friends who managed to escape the cops ran a train on this girl from school, getting her drunk first with beer we five-finger-discounted from the package store uptown. The scene was hot as hell, the two of them swapping out in her pussy while I pumped her mouth cuz she wouldn’t want my peanut after my friends. Yeah, they were bigger than me, what a surprise, and I heard them snicker when I dropped my pants. They weren’t much bigger, though, so they really had no room to laugh. One cut, one uncut, both around six on hard and only middling thick; everybody knows girth is most important, like the twerp’s cock, or, better yet, with both length and girth, like the mean dude's "dong". The drunk girl seemed impressed, though, and she wailed and screeched around my peanut as if she were in hysterical ecstasy while they pounded. Silly bitch; if she only knew what I had to put up with in juvie. The mean dude and the other boys in there don’t care what you think of their cocks, they don’t care how many have cum in you before or how many will cum after. They just hold you down and shove –

My asshole twitches again, and I groan and give in, scoop some jelly on my left forefinger and pry my cheeks apart, sliding in to the second knuckle with a welcoming ease. I scrunch my face and push my hips up, trying for a better angle to reach a certain sweet spot, one the mean dude hit every damn time. A zing thrills through me, and I stroke my cock while I fuck myself, while I bring the train girl back to mind. My friends wanted to DP her, but she refused and threatened to scream if they tried. In my mind though she agrees, sinking down onto one friend’s cock while the other stands behind, jerking off and getting ready to slide his own dick inside. I picture the girl (was she pretty? I think so) throwing her head back, riding, and the image reminds me of the weird dream I had about the twerp, where he was fucking up into me with his thick dick while I begged him to make me. Or not to make me, the details are kinda hazy. My asshole twitches, and I speed up my frigging, but somehow it’s not enough, so I stuff another finger inside. Better. Still not enough, but better. I remember waking up with a sore asshole the morning after, too, like I’d been clutching in my sleep or something. But why would I have such a strange dream, especially one intense enough to make my hole ache? Maybe my stoned and drunk brain confused the twerp with the mean dude in juvie. Easy enough mistake to make, I suppose, his thick fucking dick woulda fit right in with –

My bedroom door swings open with a creak, and speak of the fucking thick-dicked devil, the twerp silently slips into my room. I yank my fingers from my ass with a squelch and pull the sheet over my sweaty, horny body, not wanting him to see my activity (not to mention my peanut). He closes the door and leans against it, wearing only jockey shorts. He’s a small guy, and doesn’t think much of himself, but he’s cute, and smart, and kind-hearted; he’s everything I’m not. Lithe, limber, his smooth torso lanky as opposed to skinny, with close-cropped brown hair and a smile like an unexpected gift on a cloudy day. He’s not smiling now, simply standing in the glow of the streetlamp outside and watching me with a solemn, unnerving downward tilt to his wide lips and . . .

And . . .

And a thick obvious ridge in his tighty-whities.

My heartbeat increases, my greasy asshole twitches, and a fresh sheen of sweat trickles down my brow. Not knowing what else to say, I offer a weak, “Um, hi?”

He says nothing for a long moment, just keeps watching me with that flat, hooded expression. We used to be close, before I veered irredeemably off into bad behavior, but we’re not close anymore and I can’t read him. His hard gaze, so like Dad’s when laying out punishment, says one thing; his hard cock, so like my dream of being fucked by it, says another. Then when he actually speaks, his words are surreal. “What are you doing?”

An uneasy bell rings in my mind, but I push through the peals, hoping my own stiff peanut isn’t obvious under the sheet. “Um, sleeping?”

He snorts, pushing himself off the door and stalking over to stand above me. A hand shorter, forty pounds lighter, he’s intimidating, even with his innate niceness. I can’t take my eyes off the thick ridge in his drawers, and my mouth waters.

“Liar,” he says coolly, sparking more deja vu. “Bet you were pounding your pud.” Faster than I would have believed possible he yanks the sheets back, leaving my shiny peanut to quiver in the streetlamp glow. He snickers, and I tense, expecting some insult over my lack of size, but instead he pinches and twists my nipple, hard, the pain flowing over my body to pool in the pit of my belly. I yelp, twisting away from him, and gape, so astounded it doesn’t even occur to me to kick his ass. “You don’t lie to me, bro. Not ever. Not anymore.”

I reach up to rub my bruised titty. “What the fuck?” then “What the fuck?” again as he pushes down his jockeys, his hard, thick cock bouncing and eager in its tidy nest of brown curls. I can’t take my eyes off it, off the swell of balls underneath. My asshole twitches. My peanut throbs. “What the fuck?” My voice high and screechy, on the verge of panic, and I wince, not wanting to wake Mom and Dad.

“Don’t worry, the ‘rents aren’t here,” the twerp informs me with a smirk, “they’re out with Dad’s boss. So you can make all the noise you want.” He fists his thick cock, puts a knee on my bed.

I recoil, still unable to stop staring at his rager. “What are you, what are you doing?” I’m not in juvie anymore (although it’s probably coming if I keep on the way I’m going), this shouldn’t be happening!

“You’re gonna suck me off,” he says, throwing a leg over my heaving chest and pinning me under his weight, and I want to fight, want to push him away, it’d be so easy to knock his tiny ass back to the floor but my body is heavy, lethargic, and feels like I’m struggling against myself more than him. My panic ratchets up into terror as he grabs my by the hair on my head and pushes my face into his crotch, laying the thick, thick head of his cock on my lips. “Nuh-no,” I splutter, rolling and pushing weakly against his weight. “Don’t make --”

Bam! Through my protesting lips, across my crying tongue, his glans popping against the back of throat, and I gag, the twerp’s heavy balls bouncing against my chin, his fist knotted in my hair. Thick, so thick my jaws ache from the strain. He can’t shove it all inside due to the angle, but he’s got enough in there. I whimper around the hard flesh in my mouth, look up at him, my eyes pleading.

His own eyes are implacable. “Oh, but you wanted me to make you, remember?” Horror washes over me. The weird dream had been no dream! Now I distinctly remember sitting on his thick cock, jerking off and begging him to make me . . . make me . . . do things! But I was drunk that night, drunk and stoned and confused, and no matter what I said, I didn’t mean it! He slides backwards across my tongue, almost all the way out of my mouth, but before I can explain he shoves back in, hard, again popping against the back of my throat, making me gag. He tastes clean, of soap and the tiniest hint of cum, unlike the dicks in juvie, which usually tasted of sweat and dirt and pee and, sometimes, my ass. I suck and lick out of habit, digging into his slit for drops of pre, while my big hands beat weakly at his hips, trying to push him away, but he’s too heavy, and I don’t want to hurt him. He grinds into my throat, and I gag again, but as he pulls out I’m helpless but to tickle my tongue on the seam of his undershaft. The twerp groans and starts fucking my face, his tiny, tidy patch of pubes looming in my eyes, his balls banging my chin.

“Fuck, bro,” he moans, “you’re better than the one girl I talked into trying this. Your mouth feels great.”

Pleasure and pride zing through me at his words, and the last of my resistance crumbles. The guys in juvie weren’t like the twerp, they didn’t appreciate how hard I tried to please them, even when they forced me. Maybe I owe my brother, anyhow; after all, I pretty much walked into his room and raped him, didn’t I? Oh, I didn’t shove my puny dick up his ass, I sat down on his thick one, but it was rape anyhow, wasn’t it? And I did say I’d suck him, did tell him to make me. So, yeah, I owe him this blowjob. I stop fighting, stop tapping my hands against his hips and grab hold of his narrow ass as he drives into my mouth, as I give him my best technique, licking and tickling and digging. I’ll drink his cum like I promised and when we’re finished I’ll politely explain how we can’t do this again, I’d been drunk and confused and horny that night, but I’m straight and he’s straight and we must never do this again. I hollow my cheeks and take as much of him as will fit into my mouth, his head popping against the opening of my throat again, but I don’t gag, I know I could take him all the way to the pubes if we were in a better position. He groans again, more pre drooling out to pool on my tongue. Again, he tastes clean. No rage or despair or violence. Suddenly he stops, his dick swelling, and ropy, salty threads of cum spurt into my suckling mouth. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” the twerp cries, holding me against his crotch while emptying his balls, and I don’t fight it, let the fluid build in my mouth and trickle down the back of my tongue, and only when there’s danger of it leaking out my lips do I swallow. Clean, so clean.

He pulls away and I swab one last swipe around his glans, causing him to hiss. He sits back on my heaving chest, his weight slight, inconsequential, and we take a minute to calm our breathing, for me to rub my aching jaw and savor the last of his clean taste. We’re done, despite the rigidity of my peanut, the twisting in my belly, the twitching of my asshole, all of which I try to ignore in favor of figuring out how to tell my brother we can’t –

“Now I’m gonna fuck you.”

Wait, what?

“Wait, what?” I whisper, my throat dry despite the load just splashed across it.

The twerp smirks, his cock hard as it was before he came. “I said I’m gonna fuck you.”

"But," I lick my swollen lips, “but I just sucked you off!”

“Yeah, you did, so now I’ll be able to go for awhile. The second nut always takes longer than the first.”

My asshole twitches. “No, no you can’t!”

“Bro, you begged me to. Remember?” He slides backwards down my hairy, sweaty torso, the head of my raging peanut catching on his balls and twanging through my nerves, and settles his weight on my thighs.

“But, but I was drunk and stoned,” I protest. “I didn’t mean what I, what I said!”

He smirks again. “Tough. You promised. You swore.” He brings one small knee between my massive thighs, preparatory to spreading them.

My asshole twitches again. “Nuh-no,” I say, struggling underneath him, trying to knock him off balance without hurting him. I don’t want to hurt the twerp. I never want to hurt the twerp. “I won’t!”

He leans over me, lays one hand on my chest. The grace of his touch, the implacable resolve in his eyes still my struggles. “This is gonna happen,” he said, “so just relax and it’ll be fun.” I recognize the words, and I sag as he pushes my legs apart, settles between them. Our cocks cross in my vision for a moment, his thicker, longer than mine, then he grabs my thighs and pushes them up and out. Tears of frustration form in my eyes, overflow to run down my cheeks as my peanut throbs on my belly, as air flows over my greasy, suddenly exposed and twitching asshole. I attempt to roll away one more time, try to push him off, and he growls, “Dammit, bro, stop! Put your hands behind your head.”

“No, please,” I beg, tears dripping into my ears even as I put my hands behind my neck, even as he pushes my knees back to almost brush the sheet. “Please!”

He ignores me, says only, “Hmm, all slicked up like you promised. Good boy.”

Pleasure zings through me, but muted by the panic and despair. “Please, twerp, please don’t make me do this!”

“I’m not making you,” he says, propping my thighs on his upper arms as he bends over me. “You wanted it, and I don’t know how else to reach you.”

He’s so short and thin, so tiny between my massive legs, I could squeeze him until his skull pops like a pimple, but I can’t find the strength. Except for my quivering, greasy asshole and quivering, greasy peanut my entire body is weak, helpless to move. My voice whiny and pitiful. “You can’t fuck me! You’re not like the, like the guys in juvie! You’re not!”

His expression goes stony. “No, I’m not like the guys in juvie.” I feel a great, blunt pressure on my anus, and I squeeze tight, desperate to keep him out. “But I’m gonna fuck you anyway.” He pushes harder, and my sphincter begins to give, stretching burning tearing, and I gasp at the pain, cry at the force, almost not hearing his murmured, “I just hope I’m doing the right thing.” And the fat glans of his cock pops inside.

“Fuck,” we both moan at the same time, and I add, unable to keep the words in my mouth, “You got a thick dick, twerp.”

He grins, looking like he used to look at me when we were close, when we could keep each other entertained for hours with nothing but stupid jokes. “So I been told.” The humor and the, yes, guarded affection on his face prompt me to relax, to let him sink slowly into my heat. My body opens for him, the burning stretching tearing a familiar sensation, one I thought I’d never feel again, at least until I go back to juvie, or, God forbid, prison. I don’t want to go to prison! The twerp bottoms out, his narrow pelvis pressing against my muscular glutes, and he sighs, a long, guttural sound of satisfaction. So full, I m so full, he’s so thick, a single pube from shattering me into pieces. He starts to move, his weight against the sweet spot sending whipsnaps of electricity through me, and I can’t fight anymore, I can’t pretend, so I close my eyes, revel in the feeling, my nerves coming alive under his penetration, telling me I might as well get used to it, taking cock and being raped is all I’m good for, and the twerp is no different than the mean –

An explosion of pinching pain in my nipple wrenches me from inside my head, and I snap my eyes open into the twerp’s fury. “Look at me while I fuck you!” he snarls, stuffing his entire thick dick inside, rounding me out and wrenching a cascade of groans from my throat. “Look at me, because you obviously need reminding who I am!” He pulls out, jabs back in, my hole clutching and caressing every inch. “I am NOT one of the kids in juvie!” Out, in, hitting the sweet spot each stroke. Grind. “I don’t know what happened in there, although I got a pretty good idea.” Out, in, grind. Oh God, he’s a natural, he’s a fucking natural, building a fire in my guts. “But that’s in the past, those assholes are in the past.” Out, in, grind. Stop, oh please stop gazing at me, let me close my eyes, I can’t bear the scrutiny. “I’m the one fucking you now. Me, the twerp. And I am NOT one of those assholes in juvie!” Out, in, grind. “Who am I?” Grind grind grind. “I asked you, who am I? Dammit, answer me!”

“The, the twerp,” I gasp, fire blazing in my belly, peanut leaking on my belly. “You’re the twerp, you’re not the guys in juvie, you're not the mean dude!” And he isn’t. There’s still guarded affection in his eyes, as if he can’t quite trust himself to trust me not to disappoint him, but behind it there’s honest love. Not hatred. Dominance, but not contempt. “You’re the twerp, you’re my, my brother!”

“Damn right I’m your brother,” he says grimly, still grinding, and dear God, it feels like he’s popping into my throat, as if he’s penetrated through both guts and heart. “Now tell me why I’m fucking you.”

“Huh? What?” It’s hard to think with his thick flesh churning inside me.

“Why. Am. I. Fucking. You?”

“Uh, because . . . because . . . you know you can, because I swore--”

Another twist of the nipple, and I wail. “Wrong answer. I’m fucking you because you like it. Not because you swore, but because you asked.”

“I don’t . . . I don’t like . . .” I gasp, unable to form a complete sentence, and then I holler when he twists yet again, both nipples at once this time.

“I told you, don’t lie to me! Never lie to me! You like being fucked, don’t you? Don’t you? Admit it!”

“I . . . I . . .” He’s pounding me now, hitting the sweet spot with each pass, lighting me up from the inside, and I’m sobbing, tears rolling from my eyes, and he won’t stop looking into me. I don’t like this, I can’t like this, I’m a big stupid straight hunk of a guy, I’m not a weak sissy, but I can’t deny the fire, can’t deny the pre dripping out on my six-pack, can’t deny the twitching of my body, not just my asshole, but the twitching of my whole entire sweaty body. “I . . . I . . .”

“Admit it!” More nipple twisting, more pounding, more sensation in my overloaded, overwhelmed nerves. “Goddamn you, bro, admit you like being fucked!”

“YES!” I scream, so loud the neighbors must hear, but I don’t care. “YES! I like being fucked, I love it!” The words burst through my lips with a fresh bout of sobs, of relief and not denial this time. “Yes, I like this, I like the fire, I like how it hurts but feels good, hurts but feels good!” My head rolling back and forth in my hands, our gaze never breaking, I’m open to him in more ways than just between my legs.

“And you like to suck dick, too, don’t you? Admit it!”

“Your dick, I love to suck your dick,” I babble. “So clean, you taste so clean!”

“You like my cock then.”

“Oh God yes I like your cock I love your thick cock!” Can’t stop the honesty, can’t stop the flames whipping through me, can’t stop, won’t stop. “I love it, fucking love it!”

“Awesome,” he spits, glaring down into me, his eyes digging deep as his screw. He’s got me bent in half, balancing himself on my thighs, sweat dripping into my face. “I like it too, I like your mouth and your hole, I wasn’t sure I would but I do. So I’m willing to do this every day. Are you? Do you want to do this every day?”

“Yes, please, every day, every night, whenever you want it!” He’s pumping into me at a steady, inexorable pace, slamming my sweet spot with every thrust, driving the flames higher and hotter. If I thought it felt shamefully good when the boys in juvie used me, uncaring of my comfort, I’m undone by the pleasure of my brother fucking me because I like it, because I’d asked, he’s loving me with steady and focused determination because he knows I like it and he’s willing to give it to me! He’s gonna make me cum, I need to cum, and he won’t laugh when I do, he won’t sneer and rub my nose in it like the mean dude did, the twerp will smile and be happy for me, I know he will! I disobey and reach down, blindly grasping for my peanut, but the twerp growls and knocks my hand away, just like the guys in juvie. Nooo!

“I said, hands behind your fucking head!” Then, unlike the mean dude and the other guys in juvie, he grabs my peanut his own self, not tightly but enough to feel his heat. If he squeezes I’ll cum. Please squeeze! “Now, do you want my thick dick every day?”

“Yes, God yes!” I groan, I sob. “Do you want me to beg? I’ll beg you, please give me your cock every day, please fuck my mouth and ass, please let me cum!”

“I like when you beg,” he concedes, his dick pounding, his fist loose and warm, his sweat raining down on me. “So yeah, I’ll give it to you every day, more than once maybe. Probably. But it all depends on you.”

“What, what do you mean? I, I’ll do anything.” Imploring him with my eyes, with my mouth, with the rhythmic clutching of my hole. “Anything!”

“Will you be a good boy for me?”

“So good, I’ll be so good for you, twerp,” I gasp, unsure exactly what he wants but perfectly willing to agree to his terms, to any terms at all if it means he’ll throw me his thick cock every day.

“If you want me to fuck you ever again, then from here on out the drinking and drugging stops. No more beer, no more pot.”

“I swear it!” Who needs beer or pot? I’m higher now than I’ve ever been before.

“No more hanging out with the dirtbag losers. They’re history.”

“I won’t, I’ll never see them again!” Nothing but a bunch of assholes who think peanuts are funny, anyway. “I swear!”

“Until further notice you’re on house arrest. You hang with me or nobody. We’ll play games or listen to music or go to the movies, like we used to do.”

“Can we be, can we please be close again?” I pant, searching his red face, his iris-less eyes for conviction, and finding it. “Please?”

“That’s the whole point of what I’m doing.” Hammering on my sweet spot, the ghost of his heat around my straining peanut. “I want to be close to you again, and fucking you might be the best way to get there, for the both of us.”

“Please fuck me, twerp,” I babble, rolling my head and clutching his pistoning thickness with my walls, clapping my hole around him as if to never let him go. “I’ll be good for you, I’ll be so so good!”

“You better be,” he warns, leaning down until he’s in my face, his eyes holding onto mine to illustrate his sincerity. “Because the first time you sneak out at night, the first time you show up drunk or stoned, the very first goddamn time you disobey me, the fucking stops. Understand?”

“I . . . I understand,” I gasp. “I get it, twerp, I understand, I’ll be good, just please please squeeze my peanut!”

“I’ll squeeze your peanut,” he promises, and his grip tightens, but not enough, nowhere near enough. “Swear to me you’ll be good and I’ll squeeze your peanut every damn day.”

“I swear!” I holler. If he pounds any harder, if he speaks any truer, my brains are gonna leak out my ears. “I swear I’ll be your good boy!”

“Good boy,” he echoes like I already am, sending prickly pleasure from the top of my head and through my heart to meet the rising fiery pressure building in my guts. “Now cum for me,” he orders, and squeezes.

His tiny hand is the right size for my peanut, wrapping around me snugly, and I have one brief second to glimpse how perfectly I matter to the twerp before the white floods over me, through me, calling it an orgasm is like calling a storm a gentle spring rain. I scream, I holler, I thrash on the bed, spewing what feels like years of built-up jizz with each shove of his wide glans on my sweet spot. At last, at long last his eyes roll up in his head, releasing me, and his howls join my screams as he throbs impossibly thicker in my destroyed tunnel and fills me full of his spunk, thrusting haphazardly in and out of me, coaxing more cum to spill from my own raining balls, more lightning to sizzle through me, more thunder, but distant this time, as if the storm is moving on, leaving a newly clean world in its wake.

For a minute only the sound of our breathing, and I thank God the ‘rents aren’t home tonight, no way they wouldn’t have heard. But holy shit, that was the best orgasm of my life, bar none. And when the twerp meets my eye again, it appears he feels the same, he’s wearing a sated expression I’ll treasure as a golden memory all the rest of my days. He tilts his head, grinds into me one more time, and lays a hand on my sweaty and heaving chest. “Swear?”

“I swear,” I say softly, meaning it.

He smiles, a gorgeous and unexpected gift on this cloudy day, and says it again. “Good boy.” Something bright and shiny unfurls inside me, a rusty sort of light I thought I’d never feel again. He lowers my knees, and both of us wince as his softening cock slides free of my sure-to-be-gaping hole. For once I relish the sensation, knowing I’ll feel cock inside me again without having to go back to juvie and the mean dude because I’m gonna be good, I’m gonna be so, so good, and me and my brother are gonna be close again. The twerp groans and rolls off the bed, wobbling a little as he stands. Heh, I understand, I don’t think I’ll be able to walk right for a week. He swipes up and into his jockey shorts and opens the door. Just before he steps through he calls over his shoulder, “Thank you, bro. Thank you,” and steps out into the hallway, leaving me with my stretched asshole leaking his jizz, my heaving belly and chest saturated with my own, and wondering:

What the hell just happened?