This story is purely fiction, and contains sexually explicit situtions possibly involving (but not limited to) rape, pedophilia, vegetables, coffee mugs, and various farm animals.
The characters in these stories are in no way based on real people. If you feel
that they might be based on you, you are probably an idiot. I don't know you.
Keep this shit out of the hands of children you lazy, thoughtless bastard. Do
you have ANY idea what a kid who read this stuff during his childhood would
grow up to be? Well, YOU'RE READING THE KIND OF FUCKED UP SHIT HE WOULD END
UP WRITING.
Enjoy.
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The next few days were uneventful, as both of my parents were home after work,
leaving me and my brother no time to screw around. But the day after that, two
miraculous things happened.
The first is that our dad announced to the family that he would be working new
hours. Instead of nine to five, he would be working from four to midnight. I
can't remember why, exactly, but he seemed very delighted about it, for some
reason. I think it also came with a raise.
That very same night, my mom announced she had gotten a job as a tutor. She
would spend from 4:30 to 9 every week day helping the stupid kids after school.
We all congradulated her, finished dinner, and went to bed.
I was overjoyed, because this meant that my brother and I would have the house
to ourselves for several hours every single day.
The first night on the families new schedual was a blast.
After my parents had both left, leaving us a frozen pizza for dinner, my brother
and I were downstairs in the living room watching TV. He was unusually silent
and still, as if afraid to move.
After a while, I spoke up.
"Take your clothes off."
"No."
I sighed, stood up, and walked over to him.
He had the look of a deer caught in the headlights. Truly pitiful.
It didn't take long - soon enough, I had taken his shirt off, wrestled his pants
off (despite much kicking on his part), and was trying to hold him still while
I slid his underwear off.
By the time I had gotten his briefs off, he had curled himself into the fetal
position on the couch, and he was Hell bent on not moving.
Once I had all of my clothes off (producing the bottle of lube from my pocket),
I decided what I was going to do.
I opened the bottle and dribbled some oil on my finger. I layed, back down,
on the other couch, pulled my knees up to my chest, and dabbed the lube onto
my ass pucker.
It wasn't a trick to get him to stand up - I actually intended for him to fuck
me. I had experimented with anal masturbation in the past, and it was pretty
great. Besides, his dick wasn't that big. Not nearly as big as mine, at least.
"Come on," I said, "fuck me."
After a few seconds, he got up, walked over to me, and was already lining himself
up. I'm not sure if we was doing it out of lust, or if he felt it was some sort
of vengeance, but he seemed plenty eager and not a bit shy.
He placed the tip of his hardened 4.5-or-so inch pecker on my ass pucker, and
started to push. His head slid in, and we both groaned a bit.
With very little work, he slowly slid his way into me until he was completely
inside of me. It really didn't hurt very much.
As he slid it back out, every sensation - including the good and the bad - quadrupled,
and I groaned all the while. Once he had it out, he was already busy sliding
it back in - his cock now lubricated from the oil I had spread on myself and
from my internal juices.
After a few penetrations, he increased his speed. By this point, my dick was
rock solid. I would have masturbated as he fucked me, but I figured it would
be wasteful, considering I had the next few hours at my disposal, during which
I would be able to get off by much more exciting means.
It felt great, just as I had remembered. It ended a bit too soon, though, as
my brother could only go for a few minutes before he shot his load. He took
his softening dick out of me, but I was still hard.
We both stood up.
"Lay down," I said. He started to get on the couch, but I said, "On
the floor."
He layed, back down, on the floor, and I knelt at his feet. He looked scared,
as he usually did.
"Relax," I said as I put his legs up on my shoulders. "If you
tense up, it hurts a lot more."
I inched forward and was about to mount him when I realized I had no lube. Improvising,
I spit into my palm and smeared it on my cock.
I pushed my head against his pucker, and told him again to loosen up. He did,
somewhat, and I slid in. He grunted a bit, and his face wrinkled up as he tried
to surpress what pain there was.
"Hey, come on, loosen up. You're clenching. Try to enjoy it."
I slid back out, trying to be gentle. I could see he was in less pain than the
first two times I had fucked him. He had probably gotten used to it. I figured
that after a while, he would be begging me to fuck him.
I went about fucking him, watching as his dirty, limp prick began to slowly
spring back to life. As I fucked him, he grunted and whimpered occasionally,
and bit his lip, but otherwise did not sob or cry.
After a while, I climaxed and came inside of him. As I slid my softening member
out of him, I noticed that he had a full erection again, and the both of us
needed a cleaning. There was only one logical thing to do.
I stood up and turned so that my back was to his face, and I leaned down and
got on my elbows such that his penis was close to my lips and mine was close
to his. Sixty-nine.
I pulled his throbbing little boner into my mouth and began sucking - running
my tongue around his head and flicking the underside of his penis. He loved
it, and started grinding his pelvis against my face and moaning.
Either it took him a while to realize that I expected him to suck me off as
well, or he was reluctant because of his butt juices that were all over my cock,
but eventually he took my limp prick in and started to suck, albeit not as well
as I was sucking him.
His cock tasted of come and a bit like shit, which, while digusting, was sort
of a turn on. I'm sure mine tasted similar, but I wasn't sure if he was turned
on by it as I was.
He came in a few minutes, and I thoughtlessly swallowed all of his semen, and
I came shortly thereafter. He swallowed mine with some hesitation, and probably
some disgust.
Once we were both spent, we got up and headed towards the shower. He looked
tired, as coming twice as hard as did would do to you, but not particularly
sad or humiliated.
Once in the shower, we started washing the funk off our crotches and out of
our asses. At one point, he turned so that he had his back to me. My eyes moved
down to his ass, and after a while, I, miraculously, started getting horny again.
Unbeknownst to him, I grabbed the bottle of hair condition and lubed up my finger
with it.
I silently stepped forward and quickly slid my middle finger smoothly up his
chute. He jumped out of surprise, and gasped, but didn't do anything to stop
me.
He was well lubed and well stretched from our earlier fucking, so my finger
could slide around easily. I started to fuck him, sliding my slippery finger
in and out of his hole. He leaned against the wall with one hand, and let out
the occasional moan.
After a short while of finger fucking, I found his soft prostate with my finger
and started to rub it. This really got him off, and after a while of it he was
hard again, and started to rub himself. I slipped in a second finger and started
fucking him again.
Soon, as he was nearing orgasm, I pulled out my fingers and promptly replaced
them with my hardening cock. Having just came, we both orgasmed quickly - me
shooting another couple loads into his over-used assholes, and him oozing a
small amount of almost-clear semen out of his rapidly softening cock.
We finished washing up, got dressed, and went downstairs. I cooked the pizza
and we ate it while watching the Simpsons.