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My Brother, The Marine
by Orangebinder
He was gorgeous; he had a small waist, absolutely flat stomach, narrow hips, a broad chest with only the lightest smattering of hair, two large protruding nipples, thick biceps, well developed thighs, and a tight muscular butt that flexed on the sides when he walked. He had a gorgeous body, a jack-off daydream but he wasn’t a gym rat. His body came as a side effect of hard physical work in the Marines, not from prissy body sculpting in a gym. He lifted weights daily and showed me how to do the same. He would place his hands on my straining muscles and I would sprout a boner. I started wearing a tight jockstrap and really loose shorts to keep from showing how hard I was but I was always stiff as a rod when working out with him. I even shot off once while lifting weights. I was lying down and could see up the leg of his shorts. His dickhead was point straight at me. It was like an eye watching me. I wanted to lick it so badly I just shot off.
A couple of weeks after he moved back home he got a job working nights. When I asked him what it was, he gave some vague answer that didn’t tell me anything. I didn’t see him quite as much because my summer job was in the daytime. That first Friday night I went to one of the local male strip joints. It was still a relatively new experience for me to go to such a place and I hadn’t been since Stan got home, I was too worked up about him. I went in the club. It was a large complex with several bars. I ordered a beer and stayed in the corners. A couple of guys were dancing on top of the main bar at the other end of the room, one in a jockstrap, the other one naked. They were both gyrating to the blaring music.
As my eyes adjusted to the dim lights I realized that the one in the jock was Stan, my brother. He was strutting his stuff, grinding his hips, and groping himself. I thought, maybe he’s just doing this for money, but isn’t really gay. As I was thinking this, he pulled off his jock and stroked himself hard. He had on a leather cock ring. Do straight men use cock rings? Leather cock rings?
Guys sitting at the bar were stuffing money into his boots. It was obvious he was an exhibitionist at heart and loved being naked in front of other guys. I didn’t stay long, just long enough to see him playfully hump the other dancer and then see him give a guy at the bar a big sloppy open mouth kiss. I didn’t know a whole lot but I knew that straight guys didn’t give sloppy open mouth kisses to other men. I had my answer. I guzzled the remaining beer and headed home. Needless to say I was hard the whole way home. I nearly came in the car but managed to hold off. I nearly ran to my bedroom and savagely humped my pillow. I came twice. I was still hard when I fell asleep. I dreamed of Stan all night and woke up at least once during the night to hump the pillow again.
The next morning was Saturday which meant I didn’t have to get up early. When I did get up, I went in the bathroom. Stan’s door was open and I could see he was still sound asleep. I don’t know what time he got home. I took a shower. The hot water relaxed me, and made my balls hang low and loose. When I got out he was sitting on the john with his underwear around his ankles. He had a shit eating grin on his face and said, “I thought I saw you last night.”
I grabbed a towel. Playing dumb, I asked, “Oh really, where?”
“Where I work.”
I mumbled something unintelligible. My mind was racing. How could he have seen me? I wasn’t there that long and I stayed in the shadows? The bathroom wasn’t that big and it was a bit cramped trying to towel off with him sitting there on the throne in the middle of things. I was trying to keep my back to him afraid that I would sprout a huge boner at any second. With the slightest encouragement I knew that I would. I was already thickening. I could feel the blood surging toward my dick but I willed it to stay down. Cumming right then and there was a fearful possibility.
I bent over to dry my feet. My butt was pointed in his general direction and I wasn’t that far from him. He put his hands on each side of my waist, pulled me back toward him, and with one broad swipe ran his tongue the length of my ass crack from bottom to top. I froze. Then he did it again. I was instantly rock hard and on the verge of shooting but I stayed bent over so he would know I wanted more. He reached between my legs and wrapped a couple fingers around the top of my loose ball sac. He gently but firmly pulled down against my suspended balls.
My cock lurched into granite hardness and I melted into him as his tongue entered my hole. We were suddenly in his bed. Maybe he carried me. I don’t know. We spent the morning fucking, sucking, licking, kissing, rimming and swallowing. From then on we slept together every night, alternating beds each night--one night my bed, the next night his. He taught me about my body, how it works, how to make it feel good, how to make others feel good. He showed me how to fuck, how to take it up the butt, how to suck for maximum effect, how to kiss, how to know when my partner is about to shoot, etc. He was a wonderful teacher. I was not only his best pupil; I fell in love with him.
orangebinder@yahoo.com
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