Where it happened: New York City
Langauge: English
Sex: Male
Rating: 10
Category: Straight
When I was seventeen, my mom died, leaving me with just my older brother, James, to look after me. Since he was twenty-two and I was almost eighteen, the state allowed him my guardianship and I lived with him in a studio apartment in Brooklyn.
Before moving in with my brother, Mom and I had lived in a house in the Bronx, which wasn’t that far away from where James was living, obviously, but when I moved, I lost touch with most of my friends from my old neighborhood. I guess part of that was our age, too. Most of my friends went off to college or got a job, and I was living in James’ apartment not really doing anything. I kept the place clean for him, and we lived off of Mom’s insurance and his income from working at a club.
I was pretty depressed, and so was James, but he was holding up better than I was, since he had job and stuff. I ended up watching a lot of television and looking at porn mags a lot. I was a virgin, because I was gay, and I hadn’t been out to anyone when Mom died. Not even Mom. I started sneaking and buying some gay porn when I was living with James, and I would get so horny and turned on, and I was so lonely that I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.
One night, James came home late and kind of drunk. I was mad at him because I’d been worried, and we didn’t have cell phones back then. When he hadn’t come home at his usual time, I had called the club, and they’d told me he left hours before. I was so fucking scared. I thought he’d died or something awful had happened, and I would be completely alone.
Anyway, when he came in, he was kind of drunk, and I was crying and throwing shit at him, and he came at me to try to calm me down so that the neighbors wouldn’t call the cops. We lived in this tiny place because it was what we could afford, and I slept on the sofa, and James slept on the futon that we put up to another sofa during the day, so we’d have more room to walk around.
So, I pushed James down on my sofa, and he grabbed me to try to get me to calm down, and I was just so wild, I don’t know what came over me, but I started to kiss him. I remember his breath tasted like booze, and at first he kissed me back, but then he shoved me off him onto the floor, and he like kicked at me. He didn’t kick me, though, just acted like he was going to, and I remember he said, “Fuck, Mark! What the fuck are you doing?”
And I started to cry again because I didn’t know. I really didn’t know what I was doing or why I’d kissed him, but I had this amazing hard-on from it, and I stood up and lunged at him again, grabbing his face and kissing him with my mouth open, and he was shocked so I was able to get my tongue in.
He fought me for a few seconds, but I guess he was drunk enough and I was so upset that he gave in. He told me later that he as so drunk and all he could really understand was that his baby brother was really upset and needed him to help him, and he kissed me back.
I did the rest. It was all on me. My therapist tries to blame James, but it was me. I unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, and reached inside. He pushed at me, but I kept on kissing him, and I got him hard by pulling on his cock a few times.
And then I got on my knees and got his cock out and I sucked it. It was my first time sucking a cock, and I wasn’t great at it, but my brother was in so much shock, I think, that he didn’t stop me. I remember he stared down at me, and the ceiling fan was on behind his head because it was summer and hot as hell, and it was like whap whap whap behind his head and I licked his cockhead in time to it and he leaked precum and it was like someone hit me with some kind of super charge of a power trip and I couldn’t have stopped for anything in the world.
James pulled me up and I think it was to get me to stop sucking him. I could tell he was confused and conflicted, but I was still pissed off, and scared, and also, now, really turned on, so I kicked off my sweat pants and he started shaking his head, but I didn’t stop.
I moved him down to sit on the couch and his cock was sticking up out of his blue jeans, so I knelt down at his feet and started to take his shoes and socks off, and I remember he put his hand on my head and said, “Don’t do this, Mark.”
But I did. I took his pants off and his underwear and he just looked at me with weird eyes as I did it like he might hate me, but also…like, I don’t know. He loved me more than anything. I know that. So, I had this tub of Vaseline that I kept in my drawer by my sofa that I used to jerk off, and I got it out and put a bunch of it in my hand.
He seemed to realize then what I was going to do, because he started to cry, too, which made me feel really mixed up because he didn’t stop me! I mean, he didn’t say stop, or whatever, and he didn’t stop me from smearing the Vaseline all over his dick and jacking him a little. He just sat there and tears ran down his face and he let me do it.
I remember I climbed up onto his lap, and we both had our shirts on, and I held his cock in one hand and sat on it. I pushed down really hard like I was taking a shit and the head of his cock fucking hurt going in and I made this hurt sound, and he grabbed my face and started to kiss me, while he flung his hips up and his cock just went deep into my ass, and I screamed! Oh my God, I screamed so loud! It hurt so much!
And he held me really close then, kissing my mouth, and hushing me, and we were both crying and he said, “I miss Mom.” And I had his dick in my ass and he brought up our mom! That will never not be the worst memory of my first time. In that moment, I felt so much shame. But – then, things got better, because James told me, “I love you, Mark. You’re all I’ve got.”
And he rolled me onto my back on the couch, and he fucked me really slowly. It hurt at first, and then it got really good. I can’t explain exactly how it feels to get fucked, but he started to thrust in this way that hit my prostate, and I was just in fucking ecstasy.
He took his time, too, because he was drunk and couldn’t come fast, and it just went on and on and on, and I was shaking so hard all over because of what we were doing together. I knew it was wrong, but it felt so fucking good. I really wouldn’t have cared if I’d died right then because I felt safe and loved and the pleasure was unbelievable after the hurt stopped.
I think it was probably half an hour of fucking, I’m not sure. Time was weird during it, both really fast and really slow.
Finally, James told me that I needed to go ahead and come. I remember he said it softly, and I was scared because I knew that if we came then it would be over and we’d have to deal with what we’d done.
I took my cock in my hand and I jerked myself off while James fucked me. It was one of the best orgasms I’d ever had up to that point. I remember my cum hit my cheek! And I also remember, because it shocked me, how my asshole clenched so hard on James’ cock that it almost pushed him out of me!
And then after I’d come, James kissed me, and put his face down against my neck, and it was a few more minutes of him fucking me before he came, too. I remember that I was shocked at the fact that I couldn’t actually feel the cum inside of me, but I could feel his cock jerk with his orgasm.
After, he pulled out and collapsed on top of me, and he started to cry again, and I rubbed his back. I didn’t cry, though. I had stopped during the sex, and I didn’t cry again for ten years until my best friend died of cancer.
I don’t regret my first time. In fact, James and I were exclusive lovers for the next five years of our lives. The story of our second (and third) time is actually a lot sweeter, to me anyway, than the story of our first. The second time was the next morning, and James was sober. He fucked me in his futon bed and then, as soon as he came, he just kept on fucking me, sloshing his cum around inside my ass with his cock – which I couldn’t really feel, but he said was amazing. It was super sweet to me, though, because he told me while he was fucking me that he forgave me and that he loved me, but, most of all, that he wanted me so badly he didn’t know if he could quit fucking me. He actually asked me to move out – with his cock in my ass! – and I said no, and he made this really sad noise, and then said, “Fuck it. I can’t help it. Fuck, I love you.” And that was that for a long time.
By the way, he’d never fucked a guy before me, and after that James never went back to girls.
But after five years, he decided to go to Massachusetts to pursue a degree while I stayed in Brooklyn. I stayed because it was only supposed to be for a year. That was a mistake. I should have gone with him. He started dating in Massachusetts and he decided that we were ‘untenable’ – hi word. We were never the kind of couple we’d been before that, though we still had sex a few times a year.
If I had my way, I’d still be with him that way if he’d let me, but he got married (to another man) four years ago and told me that it had to stop completely because he was afraid his husband would leave him if he found out about us.
I admit that I didn’t handle his marriage too well, and I’ve tried to seduce him into sleeping with me again many times. The most recent was almost a success, if you can call it that, because he and his husband were on the outs. I actually want them to get divorced so that we can be together again.
I want to move to Canada where no one knows us and live together as a couple like we did when we were young. I think we’re soul mates who had the misfortune of being born brothers. We’re never as happy with anyone else as we are with each other. James even admits that. And I think he just got married because of the guilt. But we only live once, and if we’re happiest together, then I know we can make it work. I’ve never met anyone who makes me cum like my brother, but it’s more than that. I love him.
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