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Originally published in Mandate magazine - June, 1996
Make room
for stepbrother.
_____
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 |