I had just made the realization that even stretched by the sizeable dildo, I was still in for a rough ride by Ryan. My nerves got the better of me and my mind raced with thought; should-I-do-this?-he’s-my-brother!-what’s-wrong-with-me?-will-it-hurt?-I-hope-it-does.-I-can’t-do-this.

Before I went completely insane, Ryan shouted down the hall. “You can’t have blown that bigga load! What’s takin’ you so long to clean up?”

“Nothing, uh, I’ll be right there.” I felt proud that I managed to keep most of my anxiety from my voice, considering I wasn’t even sure I could stand up without my legs giving out.

“Then move your tight little ass in here, before I’m too old to get my prick up!”

I could only roll my eyes at my brother’s language. He’d always been that way as long as I could remember. One time, when I was around 11 or so, he’d dropped a pipe wrench on his foot, and let slip a string of particularly offensive words in front of my father. To my surprise, my dad just laughed, and told Ryan he handled tools like a woman and informed him that the object he had just been injured by was called a w-r-e-n-t-c-h.

I always found his swearing extremely attractive, not that I knew what attractive even meant back then.

I finally found the courage to stand up, only a little sore from my prior engagement. I walked the short way down the hall in an odd, tight-legged way that lessened the throbbing in my ass. Of course as I entered Ryan’s room and he saw me, he burst out laughing in that cute, doubled-over way of his. “You are too fuckin’ adorable, ya know that? Should I just call for a wheelchair now, or wait ’til after cripple ya?”

“Ha ha. Doesn’t look like you’ll be crippling anyone with that,” I said, giving his chubby a few rough tugs on my way to the bed.

“Well, I guess we’ll see, baby bro. I can take a looong time if I put my mind to it. We might as well make your first fuck one to remember.” He gave me a wink as I settled on his stack of pillows, a newly pulsing hard-on bobbing between my legs. He playfully strutted over to the bed, all hyper-masculine show-off and swinging chubby between his dusted hairy thighs. He knelt with on knee on the bed and reached over me to the nightstand, his warm tube brushing across my stomach, the thick hair around it tickling as he pulled back with wallet in hand, opening it for one its many condoms.

My hand immediately shot out, landing on his. “Um, Ry, I mean,” I stammered trying to keep my gaze locked on his forest green eyes, “You’re clean right? And, well, so am I, obviously…. I just, I don’t know. I want my fist time to be all it can be.”

He didn’t seem to get what I was saying right off, so I pulled the wallet gently from his big paw, and dropped it over the side of the bed. He understood that. I even think I saw a twinkle in one soft eye. Thinking back, there must have been few, if any, times he’d even considered going bare, especially since, in his own words, he fucked “wherever and with whoever” he wanted.

“Whatever you say, little guy, you’re the boss.” He smiled as he leaned down to take my mouth in his. He pulled me up in his strong bear arms and brought me tight to his warm chest, his mouth hot against mine, opening and slipping his soft tongue between my lips, probing with a mission, wrestling with me as he bent all the way back down, nearly on top of me, held tight against his now rough, heated chest on one side, pressed into the cool sheets on my backside, a dizzying mix of sensations, and they ended much too soon. “You bring the lube, squirt?” he said, out of breathe and red in the cheeks.

“Forgot,” I breathed.

He pushed off the bed in one motion his now rock hard mass of red meat bobbing, and disappeared. I heard his running feet pound down the hall and back in seconds, one hand already slick with pink lube. as he tossed the bottle down on his way over to me, still moving at break neck speed when he hit the bed, shaking the room and making me bounce. His eyes were squinted in his red face, and he was still out of breath. “You sure you’re ready, little man?” he managed.”No goin’ back.” All I could do was nod, there just weren’t any words for how ready I was.

Before I could process what I should do next, it was done for me. I was pulled down off the pillows until my bottom was pressed against his thighs, the fuzz tickling my cheeks, his monster dripping a steady line of precum onto my stomach, pulsing above me with blood that was all male and all hunger. His foreskin was strained over an inflated purple head, and I could just tell he was more turned on then he’d ever been, his eyes taking in every inch of my smooth body, and I watched him watch me, my eyes glued to this beast of a man that for now was not my brother; he was my lover, my fucker, and my animal.

His eyes reflected all of those things, tight, almost slits, and fully concentrated on my body. He reached over me again, grabbing two blue-cased pillows in one beefy hand, using the other to lift both of my legs by the ankles. He let me down onto the soft stack of pillows, and raised as I was now, I could feel the burning heat of his manhood lying on top of mine, his heavy set of egg-sized testicles rested on my hairless sac, searing rod against throbbing teen boyhood.

He was still leaking like a stream of precum, coating my cock, and as he pulled back to finally line up his power-tool with my pink boy star, it drooled all over my smooth nutsac. He roughly took hold of his sausage in one hand, and pressed it into my sac, massaging it’s way down, leaking and pressing on my taint, and FINALLY coming to rest at my entrance. “Do it,” I mouthed up to him, both of us already lost in the moments to come.

He pressed forward, and I bared down. His head was even wider than the rest of his 2-inch-thick cock; a perfectly smooth, flared, purple plum-sized knob and it was now pressing intensely against my loosened opening, straining as he hooked one thick arm around one of my legs, pulling me toward him as the other arm held his iron rod firmly to my hole. In one blinding white instant, I gave, and the momentum drove him halfway in. I must have been holding my breath, because I gasped suddenly. And loudly. My eyes locked with his in the same instant. Concerned for me, but masked. He enjoyed my gasp. I knew it, and I wanted him to enjoy it.

There was a ring of hot pain between my pink ass cheeks, split by a filling of rock-hard cock that I could feel throbbing; I could count the racing beats of my sex beast’s heart, faster, and I lost count. A rough hand grabbed my aching boy meat,upside down, the top of his fist at the base of my cock, my raging head poking out near his pinky, roughly tugging, making my sac bounce furiously around.

“Deeper,” I said, eyes closed now, absorbed as he jacked my aching erection. It needed release, and I knew I’d blow long before Ryan. I needed him in me, I needed him to pound the shit out of me before I’d even think of busting; I refused to go softly into that amazing bliss. “Deeper, now.”

I apparently didn’t need the “now.” He let my five-and-a-halfer slap to my stomach and put both hands around my waist, gripping me tightly in each mitt and pulled me close. His muscles tensed, veins actually surfacing as he lifted me from the bed, sheets clinging to my back with sweat, his eyes even tighter with strain but still open. On his knees on the bed and upright now, I caught his beet red face in my hands, feeling the burn of this red-blooded male power. He mashed his mouth to mine yet again, and gravity slid me to the base of his coke-can thick cock. I must have let go of his neck and let my torso fall to the bed as he plowed. I couldn’t tell what was pain, what was pleasure, I could only feel it as it was, a full fledged white-out of feeling that flashed from my crotch and I sprayed everything I had between our bodies. A white-hot pulse from behind my tightened balls, up my still developing shaft, and out, splitting the hole of my engorged knob like wave after wave of eternity. The height of my lust for Ryan, the release of my true sexual identity, and the knowledge that this was all mine. He was all mine. It was the ropiest cum I’d ever shot, seven of the whitest jets of thick cream I’d ever propelled through the air as I grunted as loud as I could manage.

But Ryan had just gotten started with me, bucking me, lifting me until his mushroom head caught at my opening, then letting me free fall to his bushy hilt, then up, and down hard, up, down. Without the overwhelming lust I felt at first, I could take it all in. I felt each muscle involved in his lifting of my body, explored his rolling biceps with my hands as they hardened and tensed, then let me go, hiding in his thin layer of padding.

And then my thighs felt movement. He was standing up, lifting me higher as I hugged his neck, my legs wrapped, a heel pressed into each of his buttocks. And they were tensing too, his legs in a wide cowboy stance, each thrust timed to be when I was on my way down his shaft, his sac hitting forcefully against my cheeks. His eyes were shut tight, and he was drenched in sweat from head to toe, as was I, I now realized. His chest was as beet-red as his face, and I pressed my cheek against one of his fuzzy pillowy hard pecs, jostled by his feverish pistoning. He then shifted his stance just the lightest bit, and BAM, his slightly upward bowed dick was now forcing its way over my prostate twice every second. I pulled back, hanging on his neck by clasped hands, and I moaned loudly as I shot my second load of boy cream into the air between us, coating his furry belly and my smooth one. It felt nowhere near as good as that first release, but it was top five easy.

I recovered to see Ryan’s face fading to purple, his cheeks puffed out in powerful concentration. And after a last upward thrust of his mighty meat-stick, his bulbous head popped from my hole, and I dropped to the ground as soft as he could put me down. Still in that bow-legged stance, he power-jacked his gigantic salami cock. It was usually just over six inches but it seemed so much bigger and thicker than before, engorged to capacity and then some. Then, whatever the sound of my earlier climatic grunt, he shattered it. A growl that came from his chest, so loud it scared me half to death and made me shoot a third load onto the carpet, and just as the my third orgasm crested, I watched as a stream of the most macho cream erupted from Ryan’s purple head, the first blasting stream hitting my cheek hard enough to sting, then a second, third, fourth, seventh, shot hitting my body and as I continued to shoot my smaller load. But he still roared from his chest, and still blew, an eighth, ninth, tenth, fifteenth thick, white bullet of my older brother-bear’s deliciously hot cum hit me all over, heating my face, coating my tongue, dripping from my spent boy-parts. I loved the taste of him, he had the sweetest milk I’d ever taste and it still drives me wild.

The last dribbling shot brought Ryan to his knees and he let himself fall back on his ass to lean against the wall, breathing rough and ragged breaths, eyes still closed, but softly now. He was the sexiest, cutest guy in my life at the time, and I crawled across the cum spattered carpet and lay on him, my head resting on his soft stomach. His hand caressed my hair, and I looked up to see him looking at me in a way I’ll never managed to describe to myself. “That was..I don’t know what it was. It was the best fucking cum I’ve ever had,” he said sweetly, matter-of-factly, and profanely. My Ryan.

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That’s the end of Dillon and Ryan’s story. Obviously they continue their relationship, but I don’t think I could write something to top what both of them had in this story, so I’ll leave them to their fun 🙂