Bunking Together

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Illustration by

Michael Kirwan

 

Story by

Michael Cavanaugh

 

 

 

 

 

 

Originally published in Mandate magazine - June, 1996

 

 

Make room for stepbrother.

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I did a major double-take when I opened the front door that night. I knew we weren't expecting company, so I just assumed it would be a salesman or someone dunning us for a contribution to some charity. As it turned out, it was a hell of a lot more interesting than that. When I answered the bell, I found myself face to face with what appeared to be the youthful incarnation of my stepfather Jake. The man at the door was about twenty years younger, but he was the same height, had the same broad-shouldered, athletic build, and his handsome features were almost identical to those of my mom's third husband.

"May... may I help you?" I stammered, trying not to stare like I was a complete idiot. Jake had always been open and honest with me — or so I'd thought — and I had believed him when he told me that he had no living relatives. Now, I didn't know what to think.

"I hope so," he said, his voice resonating from deep in his chest. The man even sounded just like Jake. "Is this the home of Jake Westerman?"

"That's right. Wait a second and I'll go get him. Uh... Come on in, why don't you?"

He smiled at me and stepped inside. He looked around him, then stopped to study the recent family portrait of Mom and Jake and me that was hanging above the hall table. "You're his son, then?" he asked, his penetrating gaze shifting back to me. It was a legitimate question. I didn't look at all like my mother — and I certainly bore no resemblance to Jake. It was clear that the guy was trying to figure how I fit into the gene pool. His connection seemed undeniable.

"Jake's out in the kitchen. I'll go get him. I'll be right back." I shot down the hallway to the back of the house. Something major was coming down, that was for damn sure.

"Jake?"

"What's up, sport?" He put a plate in the cabinet, then picked up another from the draining rack beside the sink.

"There's someone here to see you."

"Who is it, Ben?"

"I don't really know, Jake." I looked closely at Jake's handsome face. The eyes were the same — deep-set and piercing, with the same incredibly thick eyelashes. The prominent cheekbones and the cleft chin were also a match. Even the gleaming mane of chestnut hair that grew down to what my mother called a "widow's peak" on his broad forehead was duplicated on the man waiting in the hallway. Why had Jake been keeping something this important a secret from me and my mom?

"Friend or foe, buddy?"

I shrugged. Jake shot me a puzzled glance and dried his hands on the towel by the sink. I tagged along behind him, curious as hell to see what his reaction would be.

"Hi, Dad," the guy in the hallway said softly. Jake stopped dead in his tracks, then turned to me, his face pale. "Go back to the kitchen and help your mother with the dishes." He waited until the door swung shut behind me, then I heard a low murmur of voices. Mother looked at me curiously, but I just shrugged and began working on the stack of plates left from dinner. I figured I'd let Jake explain this one!

By bedtime that night, things were pretty much sorted out. It turned out that the guy at the door — Charlie Gallagher by name — really was Jake's son. Jake had dated Charlie's mom in high school, but they had broken up shortly after graduation. Jake had joined the Army and gone overseas, and had known nothing about the existence of his son all these years. Charlie had only found out about Jake when he was going through his mother's personal papers after she was killed in a car accident, and had come across her high school diary. As a result, Jake all of a sudden had a full-grown, nineteen-year-old son who was only six months younger than me.

Charlie wasn't out to guilt-trip Jake into supporting him, or anything like that. He just wanted to find out who his mysterious father was. He had actually planned to check into a motel, but Jake and my mom wouldn't hear of it. They invited Charlie to stay at the house so we could all get to know each other. He agreed and, by the time we turned in for the night, we were all starting to relax.

We're far from rich, which means that we don't have the luxury of a guest bedroom. That meant that Charlie would be bunking with me. I had twin beds in my room, and I had no objection to sharing. I had enjoyed living with a roommate during my first year in college, and to tell the truth, I was already getting bored with my own company this summer. Besides, I already liked Charlie. There was a genuine warmth about him — and he was definitely a hunk. Charlie and I went upstairs and brushed our teeth, then got ready to turn in. I couldn't help copping a few surreptitious peeks at his impressive physique as he stripped out of his clothes.

He had incredible arms, dynamite pecs and a washboard gut, the total package coated with a dense layer of dark fur.

Charlie caught me looking, and I quickly averted my eyes, trying to pretend that I had been checking myself out in the mirror above the bureau behind him. I had been checking guys out for as long as I could remember, although it had never gone any further than that. The idea of making it with another guy excited and terrified me in almost equal measure. I wasn't quite sure that I was ready to think of myself as queer.

When I actually looked at myself instead of Charlie, I couldn't help being somewhat dismayed by the contrast between us. I had been told that I strongly resembled my natural father — very lean and very fair. "Wiry," the gym coach had called me when he explained why I hadn't made the football team — which was just a nice way of calling me skinny. I'd worked out like hell for the past year in an effort to make the most of the situation, and although my physique was far from heroic, at least I was no longer ashamed to take my shirt off at the beach.

"Hey, Ben," Charlie hissed just moments after I'd turned off the lights.

'What's up?" I whispered back at him, eyeing him through slitted lids. He was on his side, leaning on one elbow, sheets kicked down around his ankles. The moonlight shone on his upper torso. It looked like he was pinching the thick nipple perched on the curve of his right pec.

"This," he chuckled, reaching down between his legs. I couldn't see what he was doing, but I heard what sounded like a hard-on slapping against his open palm. "I'm horny. How about you?"

"Always," I admitted ruefully. "I jerk off at least twice a day." This was an interesting topic of conversation.

"There are lots of things to do besides beating off," Charlie observed, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "And most of them are lots more fun."

"Oh, yeah?" I croaked, fighting to keep my voice steady. Surely he wasn't suggesting — no, not possible. But if it wasn't possible, why had he mentioned it to me?

"Yeah," he replied. When I didn't say anything, Charlie stood up and stretched mightily. He flexed his arms, popping biceps as big as grapefruits, then sucked his belly back and expanded his chest. I looked up at him hungrily, swallowing noisily. He dropped his arms to his sides, then began stroking his torso, one hand sliding up over his chest, the other trailing down over his gut to the dark, shadowy thatch of his pubes. He moved slightly and a shaft of moonlight cut across his crotch. His big hard-on jutted up at a jaunty angle, pointing at the ceiling.

I was aching to reach out and touch him, but I didn't have the nerve to make the move. Fortunately, Charlie had enough nerve for both of us. He slapped his belly hard, then piled in on top of me, pinning me to the narrow mattress.

"What the hell?" I yelped, suddenly panicked by what was happening.

"Shhh-ut the fuck up!" he hissed, putting a hand over my mouth. He started rubbing his big body against mine, and the feeling of panic quickly took a hike. The soft hairs on his body tickled, and his cock sliding up and down on my gut felt really good. He already had a major boner, and my own unruly prick was responding rapidly, rising high and hard, trapped back between his thick, furry thighs. Charlie's eyes locked with mine as his prick pulsed strongly against my belly.

"Ever get sucked off?" he whispered, tightening his thighs around my dick. I shook my head from side to side. "Want to?"

"Uh, sure. I guess so." Jesus! Of course I wanted to get my cock sucked! So much for being scared of being queer.

"I'll just give you a little demo," he chuckled. "Then, you'll have the info to make an intelligent decision." Before I could say anything, he scooted down between my legs. "Nice big dick, man," he said, looking up at me and grinning wolfishly. He pulled my cock back until it was pointing up in the air, kissed the bloated, sticky tip, then swallowed it right down to the root. My hips bucked high off the bed and Charlie's big hands slipped under me and cupped my ass.

Well, believe me, after less than a minute of experience with Charlie's hot mouth on my prong, I decided that cock  sucking was pretty neat. As he licked and sucked, his head bobbing up and down eagerly, memories of my hottest hand-jobs faded away to total insignificance. I just laid back and let him do me, my hands kneading the bulging muscles in his big arms.

I came right away, totally undone by Charlie's lips and tongue. Instead of spitting my load out, he swallowed with gusto, not letting me go until he'd coaxed the last drops of jism out of me. I was seeing stars by the time he scooted up and laid his head on my chest.

"Do me now, Ben," he asked, his prick throbbing urgently against my thigh. This was it. The moment of truth. Could I do it? Could I really put another man's cock in my mouth? Hell, he'd just sucked me off and eaten my scum, so what was I supposed to do? What he had done to me had felt so incredible — and he was such a stud. I scrambled to my knees and nodded. Charlie scooted in under me, tucked his hands behind his head and spread his furry legs. I could smell his balls, all sweaty like he'd been hard in his underwear all day. I wasn't quite sure what to do, so I just started messing around. Charlie had a real nice dick. The shaft was thick, getting thicker toward the base, networked with pale blue veins. His juicetube bulged out along his cock's underbelly, as big around as my little finger, and his knob was still covered with a crinkly hood of skin. I'd been clipped at birth, and I found that extra skin really exciting. I licked at it tentatively and Charlie groaned softly.

I figured the best thing to do was to lick him all over, just to get used to the idea. I started out at the end, working my tongue all around the tip, getting it coated with spit and the sticky lube that was oozing out of him. I have to admit, I got a real thrill when I finally gripped his cock, lifted it, and put it in my mouth for the first time. My fist slipped a little, and my tongue darted right up inside the tight, hot sleeve of his cock skin. The salty taste was terrific — I lapped at it while he moaned. My belly started churning with butterflies, just like when he was sucking me, and I started getting hard all over again. I opened wide and started chowing. I got it in as far as the back of my throat, but couldn't go any more. Every time I tried, I kept on gagging. Charlie stroked the back of my head and told me to relax and not to worry about it, that what I was doing was tying his nuts in a knot. That much was true, the hairy orbs were drawing up on the sides of his cockshaft, looking like a couple of big, brown eggs. I used a combination of my fist and mouth, pumping Charlie's piece until his belly tensed and he started to whimper. His cock was thrashing around like mad and I knew he was about ready to lose it. I wasn't sure I could swallow his jizz without choking, but I figured I had to give it a shot.

After a few more strokes, Charlie went rigid and groaned, a totally animal sound that was almost deafening in my quiet room. His cock jerked and throbbed, then something thick and creamy drooled onto my tongue. It was an incredibly primal taste, a blend of musk and salt and sex. Good thing I liked it, too. Just when I was beginning to think he didn't shoot very much, his body jerked against me and my mouth was flooded with steaming cum. I gagged and swallowed, but there was no way I could keep up. It gushed out of my mouth, ran down my chin and dripped onto his hard, hairy gut.

When he was through cumming, he pulled me up next to him and kissed me, swabbing his own jism out of my sticky mouth. "I think we're gonna to get along just fine, Ben," he joked, panting like mad. He snuggled in beside me and closed his eyes. I hooked a leg over his hips and drifted off, my cock nestled against his belly.

Charlie woke me up the next morning by sucking my nuts while he pumped his clenched fist up and down the length of my prong. I blew so hard I hit the wall above the bed. After I got through returning the favor, my hard-on was back with a vengeance, curved up against my belly. After ten minutes in a cold shower, it deflated just long enough for me to stuff it in a jock. Watching Charlie slip into a pair of tight, white shorts and a tank top got me going all over again, and I was practically limping when we went down to eat breakfast. I had always thought that having sex made a guy less horny. Not true.

After we ate, Charlie offered to help me overhaul the lawn mower so that I could cut the grass — part of the deal for living with my folks during the summer while I was earning money for my tuition at college. He followed me out to the garage, and we hunkered down side by side, talking and laughing as we put the decrepit old monster back into working order. I was incredibly aware of him — the way he smelled, the way his muscles shifted under his skin as he worked on the mower, the sweat that was trickling down his neck in the stuffy garage. As we worked, we kept brushing up against each other, and I was soon so turned on I could hardly stand it.

"How'd you like to take a poke at me, Ben?" Charlie asked, right out of the blue.

"Why would I want to hit you?" I naively asked.

"That's not what I meant, Ben." He rocked back on his heels and laughed uproariously. "I meant poke your cock up my ass and lay a load in me."

"You're kidding!" I blurted, totally shocked. I had always figured that guys who wanted to do that kind of thing really had to be weirdos. Charlie, squatting beside me, his humpy torso sheened with sweat, looked like a linebacker, not like a weirdo who wanted a dick up his ass. However, when he stood up, dropped his shorts and started flexing his muscular ass cheeks at me, I began to think he was really serious.

"Come on, Ben — I know you'll like it, man. Believe me, it puts cocksucking in the shade."

 

Well, I had a hard-on ready to bust the seams in my shorts, so I stood up and walked around to where Charlie was waiting for me. He sure as hell did have a good-looking ass, and the idea of fucking it didn't exactly give me the creeps. His meaty cheeks looked like a couple of mossy boulders. Charlie hunkered down, braced his hands on his knees, and told me to put it in him. His crack was so hairy I couldn't see his hole.

I spit on my dick and rubbed it up and down his furry crack until I found his asshole with my knob. His hole was hot as hell and I could feel it pulsing against my skin. I clamped my hands down tight around Charlie's waist, took a deep breath, then hunched my hips forward, nice and hard.  Man, oh, man! Did he feel good! His asshole was gnawing the shaft of my meat and every time he moved or flexed a muscle, I could feel the sensation running up the shaft and exploding in my belly like fireworks. I watched my prick penetrate him until it was buried to the hilt. Then, I started pumping. Charlie's big cock rose up and started rubbing against my knuckles, spitting hot, slippery honey all over the backs of my hands. I grabbed the fat shaft in one hand, then reached down and captured his balls. He bucked and snorted and his asshole squeezed my stiffer, sending sparks up and down my spine.

I was in ecstasy, ramming him as deep and hard as I could. I loved what I was doing and I never wanted to stop. Not that I had too much control over that. All of a sudden, it felt like somebody had stuck my dick in a live electrical outlet. A thrill of intense sexual pleasure shot through me, and my balls tingled as the muscles in my groin began to contract rhythmically. I pressed my face against Charlie's sweaty back and went wild, thrusting like a maniac, letting the tremors rock me while I blew a load of juice right up his hot ass-pipe.

I staggered away from him, his hole hugging my rod until I was all the way out of him. Jizz was still drooling out of me as I made my way over to the window to regroup. Man, it had been intense — an orgasm that I'd felt all over my body.

I was looking out at the back yard, taking deep breaths, when I felt Charlie's rod smack me in the ass.

"My turn," he said, his thighs brushing against the backs of my legs while he nuzzled my neck. I turned and looked at his big meat, then up at him, starting to feel a little scared.

"You'll split me in half," I gulped. "I've never done anything like that before."

"Your hot little manhole will stretch out like a rubber band," Charlie assured me, probing my chute with a thick finger. I resisted for a few seconds, but Charlie persisted, finally lodging his finger up in my aching butt. It hurt like hell at first, but he kept probing, playing with my balls with his free hand until I got relaxed enough for him to start wiggling his finger around. Once that happened, he added another one and began pumping me with both.

"Ready?" he asked, his hand planted firmly on my belly. I nodded feebly, gripping the windowsill until my knuckles went white. First I felt pressure, then a lot more pressure, then this really wild feeling as his hot knob suddenly popped into me. Considering it was like having a baseball bat rammed up my ass, it didn't feel as bad as I expected. As a matter of fact, after he'd pumped it in and out a few times, it started to feel real good. It was like having a piston inside my body, pumping my guts and making me tingle all over.

"You got a nice ass, Ben," he moaned, leaning down and licking the sweat off my neck. "Feels like it was made just for me." He reached around me and stroked my belly, gradually working his way up my torso to my tits. He pinched them hard and I clenched up my hole like a fist, making Charlie grunt with pure animal pleasure. He kept pinching and I kept clenching until I got that horny fucker off. I trembled and quaked as I felt my ass channel filling up with his cream, popping my rocks all over again the first time I touched myself.

After we could get it together to move, we pulled our shorts back up and got busy mowing the yard, both our butts full of each other's loads.

As the weekend wound down, I was seriously bummed out.

Charlie had a bus ticket to St. Louis, where he was attending college, and he was scheduled to leave on Monday morning. We were eating dinner with my mom and Jake, and I was racking my brain to come up with an excuse to keep him around. He was too good a thing to give up without a struggle. I was hooked on him and he appeared to feel the same way about me. As it turned out, it was Jake who came to the rescue.

"Charlie," he began, after we had finished dessert.

"Yes, sir?"

"I've been talking to Karen..." He smiled across the table at my mom. "... And we'd both like to ask you to stay with us for a while. I really want to get to know you a lot better. You don't have to be back on campus until the autumn, do you?"

"Well, I do have a job lined up for the summer," Charlie said.

"I'm pretty sure I can arrange a job for you at the factory where I work. Ben's been working there for the past two summers now. It won't be easy, but I can guarantee you'll make more money there than you could flipping burgers."

"Yeah, Charlie. That would be terrific. You can bunk with me. I chip in for expenses here around the house, but it's a lot cheaper than renting an apartment. Not to mention the fact that Mom's a great cook. If you can put up with me, I can put up with you." I was ecstatic. A whole summer, living and working — and fucking — with Charlie. My cock throbbed just thinking about it.

"Well...," Charlie said. "If you're sure it won't be too much of a hassle."

We all chimed in with a chorus of "no's," and Charlie nodded agreement.

"Come on upstairs, Charlie," I requested after we had finished washing the last of the dinner dishes. "I'll empty a couple of drawers for you and clear out some space in the closet."

"Sure, Ben." His voice dropped to a whisper. "First, though, I thought that maybe we could take turns filling some spaces. I'm so horny my balls hurt."

I grinned at him, then tossed the dish towel at the rack as I ran for the stairs. I already had a wicked hard-on for my stepbrother and there was no time to waste.

 

THE  END

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Any images, writings or other content on this website may be copied for personal viewing only.
They may not be: redistributed; sold; altered; enhanced; modified by artificial, digital or computer imaging;
used on another website or blog; posted to any internet or computer newsgroup, forum or media sharing site;
nor used for any other purpose without the express written permission of the artist or KirwanArts.com.