What The Hell Just Happened?

I'm lying in bed completely naked and uncovered, my body sweaty from the heat; absolutely no breeze whatsoever wafts through my open window. Way after midnight but I can't sleep for shit. Partly from the miserable humidity, partly because I slept til noon today, but mostly I'm too horny. One thing about this fucking heat wave, it sure convinces folks (chicks) to wear as little clothing as possible. I sat outside on the porch swing all afternoon and most of the evening, pretending to read a book but really watching the passersby. Halter tops, Daisy Dukes, the occasional bikini, I committed ‘em all to memory, and despite examining those memories and beating to them only half an hour ago, I’m ready for another look. Imagine, cum barely dry on my belly and I’m still hard. I’m such a perv. Meh, might as well spank off again, third time today but who’s gonna bitch? Certainly not me. I grab hold of my thick six and tug, shivering at the sparks but aware of a certain rawness, a chafing. No biggie. Fishing the jar from my nightstand, I jelly up and settle back for a long, comfortable stroke. Reexamine my memories of lipstick red lips, sweat trickling down cleavage, meaty asses barely covered by tight denim or blink-and-you-miss-it miniskirts. I’ve been around the block a time or two, enjoyed some mild perversions, even fucked a girl’s pussy once, but despite my overactive fantasizing I’ve never had the nerve to ask for my dearest wish: to fuck one in the --

A crash from outside my window breaks my concentration, and my grip falters on my cock. Goddammit! Not even out of juvie two weeks, and the fucker’s stumbled in drunk not once, not twice, but three times! Right as I add invisible tally four the stupid asshole tumbles over the sill into my bedroom, landing in a heap on the floor.

“Ssh,” he hisses, “don’t wake up Mom and Dad.” Jeez, I can smell the beer and weed from here. Dumbass.

Snatching the sheet over my quivering nudity, I click on the nightstand lamp. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Startled, he rolls onto his back and sits up, squinting at the glare. “Ssh,” he re-hisses, “don’t wake up Mom and Dad!”

I snort. “I won’t need to, you’ll manage just fine all by yourself.”

He turns his blinking, bloodshot gaze my way. “Wha’ you doin’ in my room, in my fuckin’ bed, twerp?”

“How shitfaced are you? This is my room!”

“Good,” he says, ignoring my exasperation, “I’s wonderin’ why I had such shit posters on my wall.” He climbs to his feet, sways back and forth, rubs a hand across his stubbled cheeks and jaw. “Wha’ you doin’?”

“I was asleep,” I snarl, my dick throbbing at the lie, “until your drunk ass tumbled through the fucking window!”

He stumbles over to the side of my bed, towering over me. A hand taller, forty pounds heavier, he’s intimidating, even when high. With his feathered, shoulder-length brown hair, strong jaw, his fleshy, powerful body stuffed into tight jeans and a sleek mesh shirt, he’s everything I’m not. “Liar,” he snorts. “You wasn’t asleep, bet you’s poundin’ your pud.” His blue eyes trace down the length of my covered torso, and he snickers when he notices the obvious lump. Faster than I would’ve believed possible he yanks the sheet away. “Thought so.” He peers closer. “Damn, you got a thick dick, twerp.” My shiny cock throbs as if pleased.

“Shut up!” Snatching the covers across my crotch and glossing over his grudging compliment, I growl, “You jerk off as much as I do!”

“More,” he corrects with a smirk. “Ain’t nobody jerks off more’n me. Especially thinkin’ about things they shouldn’t be thinkin’ about.” He frowns, blows a sad sigh.

I have no clue what he’s babbling about, and although curious I’m also loathe to find out. “Will you please go away? Your own bedroom is one door or window to the left, if you can count so high.”

“Jeez, sorry to bother ya!” He rubs his face again and toddles around the bed with stoned concentration, making it almost to the door before he sways too far and crashes into my desk. “Ssh! Don’t wake up Mom and Dad!” Regaining his balance, he manages to open the door without further mishap and stumbles into the hall. I wait until I hear his door close before shaking my head and getting up to shut my own. Flipping off the light, I settle back onto my bed and listen to him banging around in his room as he undresses. He’s damn lucky Mom and Dad had a few beers themselves tonight or they would’ve already thundered downstairs.

What the hell happened to my brother? We used to be close, bickering all the time, wrestling, fucking with each other and loving it. Then last summer he picked up with the wrong crowd, started drinking beer and smoking pot and staying out later and later, and he gradually drifted away from us, despite my whole family trying to intervene. The situation came to a head when he and his loser friends were pulled over and arrested, charged with underage drinking, possession of marijuana and attempting to bribe the cop with a forged check. His dirtbag chums got sentenced to two years in juvie but since it was his first offense my brother only served six months, lucky bastard. He still came back to us changed, almost a completely different person. You’d think he would’ve learned his lesson, but no, he’s back on track for another term, and nothing anyone says to him seems to sink in.

After a few bumbling minutes he crashes onto his bed, the headboard slapping against our connecting wall hard enough to make me jump. Silence for a bit, and I right as I decide he’s passed out his mattress springs start squeaking. I’m surprised he can stay awake long enough to jerk off, much less get his cock hard.

Wonder what he wields down there? I haven’t seen him naked in years, not that I’ve tried, but if his dick is in any way proportionate to his body he's bound to be huge. And hairy, given his chest. Man, chicks go for the rug on his pecs and belly, so much more manly than my own pale smoothness. Chicks go for him period. He used to tell me about his hookups, brag about whichever base he’d stolen, but when he started hanging around with the losers he stopped, even though I’ve seen him covered in hickies and, once, with lipstick stains around his zip. Mom clocked ‘em too, and about blew a gasket, and Dad glowed with pride before choking it down and siding with Mom over the depravity.

Wonder if he’s ever fucked ass? Bet he has. Bet the drugged-out sluts his loser friends bang give him anything he wants. I picture him naked in bed with some chick, her on hands and knees with cheeks spread, him kneeling behind, greasing his sure to be gigantic dick in preparation of shoving it up her chute. My own forgotten dick throbs at the image, and I relube my fingers before grabbing hold. Stroking with the firm, gentle grip I’ve perfected over the last three or so years, I imagine my brother pressing his cock against the faceless girl’s anus, like I’d seen done in the dirty magazine a friend loaned me; boy were those pages sticky. She moans as he stuffs it, cries out as he stretches her wide open and grinds his hairy pubes against her cheeks. I wonder how it feels to be balls deep in –

My bedroom door swings open without a knock, yanking my attention back to reality, and I smother a groan as my brother tiptoes in wearing only jockey shorts, pristine and white in the shadows. With exaggerated grace he gently presses the door shut behind him, and I snatch the sheet back to my neck.

“What now, asshole?”

“Ssh, don’t wake Mom and Dad!” He steps towards the bed, pushing the jockey shorts off to reveal –

“What the fuck are you doing? Get out of here with . . . with . . .” Okay, he’s nowhere near as large as I’d figured, I’m bigger than he is. But it’s hard and drooling and headed my direction. I recoil as he crawls naked onto my bed. “Get off my --”

Moving with another astonishing burst of speed, he slaps a hand across my protesting lips, and though I struggle he’s more muscular, heavier than me, and my heart skids up into frantic panic as he yanks the sheet off and slides a knee over my heaving belly, straddling me with his massive legs. “Ssh! Sssh! I just wanna, we’re just gonna have some fun, bro, don’t wake up Mom and Dad or I’ll kick your fucking ass.”

Shit! He’s laughed about the raped “sissies” he’d seen in juvie, stopping short of admitting his own participation, but I couldn’t help but wonder. Now I know. My panic ratchets into terror, and I struggle, I fight, but I can’t get away.

“Calm the . . . shit, be fuckin’ still . . . don’t wake Mom and Dad!” He leans over, his hand pressing against my mouth, his puny hard-on pressing into my belly, his breath rank with the remnants of beer and pot, slurring, “Thish is gonna happen. Jus’ relax and it’ll be, uh, fun, it’ll be fun. And if you wake Mom and Dad I’ll kick your fuckin’ ass. Got me?”

Shivering in fear, I reluctantly nod.

“Good.” He pulls his hand from my mouth, but I can’t scream, I can’t yell. He may be drunk, he’ll still kick my ass. He squirms atop me, his knob rubbing my belly, drooling all over my smooth skin, then reaches behind him and grabs my cock, gone half-soft from the conflict, but I groan as he squeezes me. “Good,” he says again, “yer greased up. I am too.” His hand gripping me tight, sliding up and down my jelly-slick cock, and I groan again, hardening to full despite my anxiety. He squirms again, moving backwards down my torso, and settles my cockhead against his hairy crack.

Wait, what?

He pushes down, hard, and I feel flesh begin to give around my head, almost bending my shaft in two from the pressure before I pop free and slide to the side. My brother groans and tightens his fingers one by one around me and tries again, his aim better this time, and what can only be his asshole begin to give under my forced penetration. He moans –

“. . . don’t make me, please, shh, don’t wake, please don’t make me . . .”

– then gasps and holds his breath, and in the sudden silence I hear a distinct sshllipp as the entire head of my cock sinks inside, the coil of his ring snapping into place around me.

Both of us freeze. He’s hot around my glans. Tight, almost pinching. I want to pull myself out and away as badly as I want to jam myself up into his guts. He breathes, long, beer-tainted pants, and right as I start wondering when he’s going to jump free of my invasion he makes a funny noise way deep in his throat, a funny noise that grows into a growl –

“Fuck, twerp, you got a thick dick!”

– and then cuts off as his body slides downward, impaling him, more and more of me sliding into his squeeze and, unable to help myself, I snap my hips up to bury the last couple inches, meeting him halfway. He curses but doesn’t lose momentum, pushing my ass back to the sheet, his own hairy ass settling against my pelvis. He groans, the gravelly rumble vibrating against my shaft, then he throws his head back and grinds his hips onto me, his hole clapped around the base of my shaft, my cockhead smashing around his innards.

Only seconds ago I’d been wondering how it would feel to be balls deep in ass. Well, curiosity satisfied.

Feels fucking awesome.

Okay, yeah, I’d been fantasizing about female ass, miles away from imagining any other guy, especially my big, powerful, troubled older brother, but I can’t deny the sweet strength of his clutch, the volcanic heat of his body melting my misgivings. He seems to think it feels awesome too, grinding on me with his head thrown back and his fist wrapped around his own short pecker, moaning and mumbling incoherently. Unable to remain still I shift my hips, withdrawing slightly then pushing back in. He gasps, holds his breath, but when he doesn’t protest I shift again, pulling out a little and screwing my way home. Out, a little further this time. In, a little harder, rougher, at a different angle. In the silence I can hear the wet squishing of my fuck; if I thought the sound of grease on flesh gross and maybe kinda hot when I jerked off, actual sex sounds grosser, hotter. Obscene, even. I love it.

Gaining confidence I snap my pelvis down and back up, pumping into this tight heat that somehow landed on my dick, because no matter whose hole I’m riding I'm gonna ride hard. He gasps again and falls forward, inches from my face, and like I’d fucked a leak in the dam words once more start spilling from his lips.

“Goddamn, twerp,” he moans, his beer- and pot-soaked breath washing over me, “you got a thick dick, it fuckin’ hurts, but you’re a natural, you’re a fuckin’ natural, it fuckin’ hurts but feels good, hurts but feels good, and nex’ time, nex’ time, twerp,” he pauses and grunts and focuses his bleary eyes on my face, “nex’ time jus’ come into my room and make me, jus’ come right in and shove your cock, your big thick cock, shove it in my face, force me to suck you.” I picture it, picture sneaking into his room one night and yanking him onto my dick, fisting my hands in his hair and making him swallow me down, and I plant my heels firmly into the mattress to give me leverage to fuck faster, harder, my orgasm sizzling in my balls; if I hadn’t already cum twice tonight I’d have creamed long before now. We’re loud, bedsprings screeching, flesh slapping, lungs panting, and I hope we don’t wake Mom and Dad, ssh! He moans and continues, “I’ll fight you, but only a li’l bit, only a li’l bit, I swear, and I’ll cry and I’ll beg but make me, please, twerp, make me, then roll me over and fuck me oh please just spread my cheeks, I’ll be slippery for you, I swear, you can fuck me however you want, on my back or my belly or bent over, don’ matter.” Crouched over me, supporting himself with one splayed hand on the bed while the other pounds frantically at his crotch, his fingers and occasionally his cockhead rubbing against my smooth belly, his balls bouncing in my pubes. His hips meeting my thrusts. Lost in the moment. I’m lost in the moment too, and despite the fact I’ve never once in my life imagined what another boy might feel like, I suddenly have to know, and I raise my own hands, rubbing his flank and his thighs, circling around to skim through the hair on his hard belly and muscular chest. The orgasm in my balls moves higher, preparing to blast out and smear my brother’s innards with spunk, the white noise building in my body all but drowning out the gasped promises and disjointed pleas dripping from his lips. “However you wanna fuck me, whenever you wanna fuck me, I swear you can, twerp, I swear and maybe, maybe we can, we can be close a-a-a-AHH-HAH-hah-hahhahahaaha!” His jizz splashes onto my skin, and the heat and sticky moisture send me off, send me up and over and I holler, I know I fucking holler, no cares if Mom or Dad hear me, one long pulse of electric cum barreling up my tubes to spill out inside my brother, then shorter spurts, draining my balls and painting his walls. He loses his balance, falling forward to press his hairy, spunk- and sweat-matted torso to my smooth skin, his panting breath trickling into my ear. The movement pulls my cock free of his sure-to-be-gaped tunnel, leaving the last couple spurts of my jizz to smear his crack.

We lay in silence and absolute stillness for at least half a minute, our chests heaving against each other, hearts knocking together, breaths harsh in our ears. As the tingles fade and the real world settles back in around me I become more and more aware of his heft atop me, his softening cock drooling on my belly and his weight pushing me into the mattress. The panic I’d gradually lost in our bizarre fuck reignites, and I squirm underneath him. “Get off, get off me,” I somehow manage to grunt, and when he doesn’t move the horrifying thought occurs to me maybe he’s passed out, and my blood pressure again rises. I wriggle harder, pushing at him with my hands, rolling underneath trying to dislodge him, and right as tears of frustration form in the corners of my eyes he raises his head and peers into my face.

“Oh no,” he says, reaching up to stroke my cheek, “don’t be scared, bro, don’t cry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, to hurt you, please don’t tell --”

“You didn’t hurt me,” I snap back, my pride stinging despite my predicament, “And don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody, much less Mom and Dad, just move. The hell. Off!” Pushing at his shoulders.

“Oh. Oh! I’m sorry bro, I’m --” In his haste to free me he wobbles for a moment, teetering on his knees, then he suddenly tumbles over and thuds to the floor. I take a moment to draw a deep breath and try to calm my nerves, then lean up on my elbow and look over the edge of the bed.

“Are you okay?”

He groans, rolls over to his front, pushes himself up. “I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m fine, just hope Mom and --”

“If they haven’t heard us before now I doubt they heard that.”

He winces at the censure in my tone and clambers to his feet, wavering for a moment before finding some sort of equilibrium. Reaching up to wipe a hand over his face, he mutters, “I’m, uh, I’m gonna go to, I’m gonna go lay down.” He shakes his head and, leaving his underwear on my floor, takes a few rubbery, splayed steps towards the hall, appearing less drunk than extremely weary, and I sigh, my heart clenching for him despite what he’d done to me. He opens the door but before stepping through calls over his shoulder, “Thank you, twerp. Thank you.” I have one last ghostly image of his greasy, hairy backside before the door swings shut behind him, leaving me leaning up on one elbow, sweating into the bed with my greasy, limp dick laying across my thigh and wondering: