First Time

Fiona and the International Scheme – Part 2

Fiona and the International Scheme – Part 2
By
Tommy Linarcos

The next morning, just before 10:00am, Scott called home and checked-in with his dad, making sure there were no plans as he was going to spend a little more time with his friends.  Then he took a shower.  He half-wondered if Pete was going to surprise him and try to join him, but he did not.

He wanted to brush his teeth, but didn’t want to borrow Pietro’s toothbrush.  He’d just had the guy’s cock in his mouth, Scott shrugged a laugh, but using the guy’s toothbrush was just too personal.  He opened a drawer or two in the sink vanity, looking for a dentist-provided cheap spare, maybe, and found three 8-packs of soft brushes.  Pietro’s mother must buy them in bulk, he thought.  Scott selected a blue one.

Through the washroom door, Scott could hear a little commotion, some quiet conversation.  His clothes were still in Pietro’s mother’s bedroom, so he’d have to navigate the hallway in a towel, no matter who was out there.  Too early for Fiona and Seabass.  Hopefully, it wasn’t Pietro’s mother.  That would be… well, maybe she knew all about Petey’s conquests.  But no parent wants to find out their bed has been used.

Scott borrowed the hairbrush on the counter, whosever it was, and brushed back his brown locks, looking slick.  He wrapped the big white towel around him, secured it at the waist, and opened the door.

“Hey… Pete?  Is it okay to come out?” he called down the hall.  “My clothes are still in the room.”

“Scott?  Yeah.  Come on out,” Pietro returned.  “In fact, can you come here a minute?”

Scott really wanted his clothes, but at least this meant that it probably wasn’t his mother come home a day or two early.  He kept a hand on the knot in his towel and cautiously made his way into the frontroom.

Pietro hadn’t dressed yet, himself; he was still only in his black boxer-briefs.  Though Scott’s towel had more square footage of material, at least the boxers were actual clothing.  The other person in the room was —

“Scott, I believe you know Al…”

Scott gave Pietro a withering glare.  What are you doing?  Why did you call Al?  What do you expect will happen?  And here I am, standing almost naked in front of this guy.  How do you deal with this?

Scott turned to Al.  Whatever the deal was, it wasn’t this guy’s fault.  Al Schroeder was a blonde stunner.  His straw-colored hair looked like he’d just finished rough-drying it with a towel straight out of the shower, himself, except it stayed that way, and looked perfect.  A little curl to it, similar to Scott’s own brown hair, though he’d have to wait for his hair to dry for them to spring up.  Al’s eyebrows were a little darker than his hair, and Scott suddenly wondered if that would stay true over the rest of him.  There were a few sun freckles across his nose and the tops of his cheeks, and it looked like he had a snaggletooth, but Scott couldn’t be sure — not that it marred his appearance.  Al was wearing a simple yellow pullover and a pair of khaki shorts, his shoes already removed and placed near the door.  Scott knew the guy had muscles from gymnastics, but he wasn’t a powerlifter or a bulky football player, so those muscles were comfortably hidden until he wanted anyone to see them — again, similar to himself and his fellow swimmers.  Although, his own muscles were certainly now on display for Al.

Scott turned on his smile, tightened his grip on his towel, moved forward into the room, and extended his right hand.  “Hey.  Good to finally meet you.  Although…” he indicated his bare chest and the towel, “I wish I’d been better prepared…”

Al grasped Scott’s hand and shook it.  A good, dry, firm handshake, while his eyes unmistakably checked out Scott’s pecs.  “Hi.  Yeah, don’t worry about that.  It’s not like…  Anyway, yeah.  It’s like I always wanted to get to know you, too, but we’re never in the same place too often.”

Pietro tugged at Scott, making him take a seat on the couch, not letting him leave to get changed.  Al moved with him to take a seat on the couch, too.

“So,” Pietro looked back and forth between them, a big smile on his face, “talk…”

“Petey, you’re an idiot,” Scott cast at him.

“We actually have met, you know,” Al said, bringing Scott’s attention back.  “We were at the movies, together.  Well, not together, but you were there with some guy, and I was there with my friend.”

Scott knew this.  “Yeah, I remember…”  He let a smile grow, as if he were just now recollecting it.  “Danny and I went to see James Bond, and they were cleaning the theater, still, wouldn’t let us in.  We were sitting on those cushy benches.  And you were there.  We got to talk a little.  Kinda like this, like now.  What were you seeing, again?”

“I was with… no one special… it turned out… and we were going to see Dune,” Al recalled.  “I saw you two there, and I knew you, and I couldn’t just ignore you, or give you a chin wave,” he laughed.  “We’d have walked in and just gone, ‘Hey, that was Scott Walker.’  And I wanted to really say hi.”

“I’d seen you before, when I’d watched Pete perform, once,” Scott pulled up, “but those gymnastics meets take forever.  Everyone’s all over the place, nine events going on at the same time, everyone’s so far away.  No big screen to watch like in the Olympics.”

Al nodded with a roll of his eyes.  “Same for you guys.  I went to a swim meet, once, because of his boyfriend,” he nodded toward Pietro.  “Even though there’s so much skin, I couldn’t tell who anyone was, and then half of you are wearing caps.”

“So you might have seen me win, but didn’t know it was me,” Scott smiled.

“I didn’t say I didn’t know it was you…” Al smiled with his eyes.  “So, at the movies, you could have come to watch Dune with us, there were plenty of empty seats.”

Scott shook his head.  “It was opening weekend for Bond, otherwise, maybe, if you’d invited me to…”

“Hey,” Pietro interjected, “are you guys still shaking hands?”

Scott looked down and realized that the handshake that led to sitting together had never really ended.  His hand was now between both of Al’s.  It just felt nice.

“Sorry,” Al laughed, and released Scott.

Scott just looked askance at Pietro.

“So, um, Pietro told me to come over because he was working on a project,” Al said.  “Are you in this, too?  What’s it about?”

“I’m a project, now?” Scott muttered.

“It’s about… getting Scott comfortable with being with me for pretend, so he can be with Fiona for real,” Pietro let on.

Al seemed disappointed.  “You brought me here as a hired gun?”

Pietro was caught in his explanation.  “We have a plan.  We have to be together when her and Sebbie get here, and then we’ll make them want to swap.  We split them up and get who we really want.”

Al looked at Scott.  “You really want Fiona.”  It was not a question.

“I think I’m in love with her, and I can’t stand to see her with Seabass, so I’m willing to go along with this scheme, and I hope…” Scott trailed off.  He shook his head.  “Oh, I don’t know.  This is stupid.”  Scott started to stand up.

Pietro saw his plans starting to fall apart.  He had to keep Scott here.  He could apologize to Al anytime, but he had to keep Scott from leaving.  “Hey, look, don’t get up.  How about a drink?  Scott?  It’s still morning for you?  Are you a coffee man or juice or a good wake-up Coke?  Al?  Something for you?”

They both just looked at him.  Pietro rambled on as he got up and left for the kitchen.

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t know he’d drag you into this,” Scott said.  “You don’t have to stay.  I don’t even know if I’m going to stay.”

Al reflected a moment.  “Tell you what.  Let’s… see what you need for this to happen… so long as I’m here.  Maybe this can make sense, after all.”

“I didn’t know you were going to be a part of this.  I just told him…”  Scott let that fade, shaking his head, a little embarrassed.

But that piqued Al’s curiosity.  “Told him what?”

“I told him…” Scott coughed a nervous laugh, “I said I wasn’t attracted to him, I didn’t know if I could ‘practice’ anything with him.”

“He is kind of ugly,” Al joked, trying to relieve Scott’s tension.

Scott laughed.  He could leave it there, but with Al in front of him, his blue eyes in front of him, something made him say, “But I said I was attracted to you.”

Al smiled, and, yes, there was a snaggletooth — the one between his incisor and canine, on his left side, just a little twisted.   Al leaned in toward’s Scott ear; it was just the two of them in the room, but he spoke like they were sharing a secret.  “I was hoping so.”  He leaned back out, but continued whispering.  “He said you were here and would I like to meet you.  I’ve always thought you were hot, but I’d like to know what makes you tick.  Not just, like, you know.  But like, friends.  Maybe we could be friends.”

“I’d like that,” Scott said.  Then he grew a wicked smile.  “But in full disclosure, I should tell you that Petey told me your real name, Adalbert.”

“Fuckin’ bastard,” Al laughed.  “It’s a family name.”

“I kinda figured.”

“Where I grew up, before I moved here, my friends knew it.  And a couple would say At-Albert, or Fat Albert.  I wasn’t fat, but there used to be this cartoon guy called Fat Albert,” Al shared.

“I can’t picture you fat,” Scott snickered.

“I hope you never will!”  Al looked down at his chest.  “Hey, can I do something without it looking like I’m doing something?”

“I… guess?”

Al pulled off his yellow shirt and tossed it on the back of the couch.  “You guys are, like, naked, and I’m still fully dressed and it’s kind of awkward.  Like if you were the one naked guy in a room full of… dressed people.  But opposite.  I’d rather be like this, anyway, like when I go skateboarding.”

“I used to, when I was a kid.  But I wiped-out too many times.  I can’t afford to get broken, anymore.  Got too much going on,” Scott said, speaking to Al’s eyes, but taking in his chest peripherally.  “Where’d you used to live?”

“California.” Al said it like he missed it.  And he did.  “I miss it.  I used to surf, too.  We moved because of my dad’s work.  But I’m trying to go to college out there.  I want to go back.”

“Fond memories?”

“Oh, yeah.  But I know it’ll be different now I’m not a kid, anymore.”

“Still have to pay for tuition and rent and food out there, too.  Can’t just live on the beach.”

“Oh, you can.  We saw a lot of homeless guys trying to do just that, but I don’t want to wind up like them.”  Then Al leaned in, again, “That’s where… with my surfing buddies.  I was young, like twelve, thirteen, but that’s where we played gay.”

Scott nodded his understanding.

Al asked to Scott’s ear, “Are you bi?”

“I don’t know,” Scott whispered back.  “That takes opportunity.  I see a lot of naked guys in the locker rooms, but it hasn’t done anything for me.”

Al saw Pietro about to walk back in the room behind Scott, carrying two glasses of something orange.  He made a quick hand motion that Scott couldn’t see: get-out-of-here!  Pietro turned around without missing a beat and retreated back into the kitchen.

“Would you like to take the opportunity to do something with me?” Al asked him.

Scott knew his answer, but gave it a beat, anyway, as if he had to think about it.  “Yeah.  With you, I think I would.”

Al drank that in, finally let his hands start roaming Scott’s chest and abs.  Scott took this cue to do the same, this time in full daylight and knowing that he wanted to.

“You owe me a secret,” Al told him.

“This may be the biggest one I have,” Scott shrugged.

Al shook his head.  “You know my name.  You got to give me a fun secret.”

“Don’t worry.  I’m not going to tell, like Pete did.  And I won’t call you Fat Albert or anything.”  He drew Al closer in.  They couldn’t look away from each other’s eyes.

“Better not!” Al tickled his side.  Scott flinched, but it did not continue.  Al still kept his gaze.  “I’m going to tell everyone my name is really Alucard.”

Scott picked this one up immediately.  “That’s Dracula, spelled backwards.”

“You are quick,” was the last thing Al said.

Scott moved in and kissed him.  There was no hesitation.

In his mind, Scott had to divorce himself from the idea that he was kissing a boy, and it wasn’t that hard.  He was kissing this person.  He was kissing Al.  He wasn’t worried about being called gay.  And it wasn’t ‘oh, I’m trying something so daring!’  It was more about not having been attracted to any boy.  He knew what a good-looking body was, and a lot of his teammates had them.  A couple of his other friends, too, but many of his other friends weren’t in a sport.  There were a few guys he wanted to see nude, wanted to check out in the lockers and showers, was curious about, but he never thought about kissing them or giving a blowjob or… fucking them.

In his mind, it was the idea of kissing someone he desired.  And he could be okay with that.  Normally, he desired a girl.  Today, he desired Al Schroeder, and he’d see how much he’d let himself go.  Not to think about it.  Just to be with this person.

Making out with Al was hot, exciting, yet comforting.  This was the thing you did with someone you cared about.  The thing he could not do with Pietro — he cared about Pietro, but he couldn’t kiss him, couldn’t get that personal; he wanted it to be this personal with Al.

Pietro had silently made his way back in from the kitchen and set the two glasses of orange juice on the table.  He didn’t want to disturb the couple he’d created, though he was a little bit jealous.  He’d see if he could add himself to the mix, but not now.  He took his seat on the easy chair next to the couch and let his hand drop inside his boxers.

Al allowed his hand to drop onto Scott’s waist, pulled the tuck out of his bath towel, and drew the side away.  He ran his hand through Scott’s pubes, pulled on them with his knuckles, then grasped his cock, getting familiar with it.

“Finally,” Scott breathed inside Al’s mouth.  “Did you think you needed permission?”

Al laughed, and had to pull away to avoid clashing with Scott’s teeth.  “Everything in its time.  You’re still way ahead of me.”

“Yeah, you still have too many clothes on.  Stand up,” Scott commanded.

Al disengaged from below but held on for one last suck of Scott’s tongue, then stood.

Scott admired Al’s muscle tone.  “Damn, you’ve got good shoulders.  I thought mine were good, but I’ve watched you do vertical push-ups.”

“You’ve got that ‘swim layer’ on you, but I could feel the sinew underneath,” Al admired back.

Scott undid the button and zipper of Al’s cargo shorts and let them fall to his knees.  He took the waistband of his red boxerbriefs and just yanked them down in one swift move, making Al’s cock bend forward and spring back against his body, making a loud thwap as it hit.  Only then did he pull Al’s clothes down past his feet and took the time to get rid of Al’s ‘stupid little socks.’

He felt his way back up to sitting, running his hands along Al’s legs to his waist.  This wasn’t something he’d feel comfortable doing with any other guy, but Al wasn’t any other guy.  They all knew some kind of sex was about to happen, and Scott allowed himself to explore.  Since he was in the right position, he decided to take first crack, and got the feel for Al’s cock.  He noticed Al’s trimmed brown pubes.  “You see, Petey, men have hair.”

“You don’t like Pete’s shave-job?” Al wondered.

“No.  Makes his dick look like my little brother’s.”

“Your little brother has a cock this big?” Pietro asked, lowering his boxers and tossing them away.

Scott nodded.  “He does.  Runs in the family.”

“Still have to suck it, later on,” Pietro teased, openly stroking.

“But I have to suck this one right now.”  Scott took Al’s smooth, cut cock into his mouth and applied the lessons he’d learned the night before.  Al’s cock wasn’t as thick as Pete’s, so Scott could get more inside, go further down.  He began a gentle bobbing, getting familiar with it, not pushing to get it all in but taking it as he could.  Again, there was no real taste, but he did smell better than Pete.  Scott thought only briefly about that and let Al’s scent be the beach, in his mind.

An appreciative groan from Al let him know he was doing okay.

He found he had more room to use his tongue, so he did, and he scraped lightly with his teeth.  He was determined to find Al’s spot — was it at the split in his head? the nub of skin at the scar? just under the whole corona?  He was enjoying getting better at this.

Pietro made his way over to the pair.  “Save the towel.  Could get messy around here.”  He shifted Scott’s legs and sought to get Scott’s cock for himself.

“Get out of here, that’s mine in a bit,” Al called down.

“See? That’s what happened the other day when Sebbie and Fee came over,” Pietro whined, stroking Scott’s cock, still.  “I’m here, I’m available, I want to have fun, but they pushed me away.”

“That’s what we’re going to fix,” Scott said, pulling off to breathe, then licking Al’s shaft.  “You get Sebbie off of her, and keep him off of her.  Fuck him, suck him, whatever, just make him yours.”

“Oh, yeahhhh,” Pietro confirmed.

“And you’re going to make Fiona yours?” Al asked.

Scott stopped and looked up.  “Yes.”  He considered the cock in his hand, the helmet turning purple the more he held it at its base, the smooth shaft and the short brown hairs, the ring so light it almost wasn’t there, the tight package of balls.  “But that doesn’t mean I don’t still want this.”  He sucked the cock back in and started a fast bob, grabbing Al’s behind with both hands.

“Have to warn you, I didn’t get a chance to jerk off this morning before Pete called me,” Al said.  “Barely had breakfast.”

Scott, keeping his mouth in action, just made a ‘gimme’ motion with his hand.  Al grabbed onto Scott’s head, locking his fingers in his hair, closed his eyes, and put himself into the zone, not just enjoying the sensation of being blown, but allowing himself to be triggered, allowing himself to cum.

Scott could tell there was a change, but wanted to make sure Al knew.  He paused.  “Cum for me.  I’ll take whatever you’ve got.”  Then he went back into action.

Al’s hips started shifting and his shoulders dipped, looking like he was having trouble standing.  He held tight to Scott’s hair, but one hand went to a shoulder.  “Fuck, I’m… fuckin’… ahh… Scott… I’m… gah!”  Al shot one small load into Scott’s mouth, followed by a huge load.  Scott held Al’s cock head at his lips, trying to allow him to rock but not to plunge into his mouth as the next five loads shot inside.  Scott did his best to swallow the hot cum, though some of that second load was still inside.  Quickly, he got it down and was able to take Al back inside and clean him off.

Al collapsed onto the couch, but pulled Scott back down with him, holding him until he was conscious, again.  “Oh, you’re learning fast…”

“I have to give that to Pete.  He told me to think about what I like and try to do that,” Scott said.  “I’ve had some talented people to try and copy, so I hope I did okay.”

“You’re fine…”

Scott ran his hand across Al’s chest, making sure to graze his nipple.  There was a freedom to all this, he felt, allowing himself to try something new.  He considered the cum still in his mouth.  And considered it, again.

“What did you have for breakfast?” Scott asked.

Al opened his eyes, a playful sparkle in them.  “Eggo waffles.”

Scott thought half-a-second.  “The Cini-Minis?”


“Yeah…”

“What about yesterday?”

“French toast,” Al was ready to laugh.

“What about dinner?”

“Baked ham and applesauce.”

Scott swished around the remaining cum in his mouth.  “It’s working.”

Al laughed out loud.  “It actually worked!  Cool!”  He leaned forward and kissed Scott, trying to taste any of what he’d given him.

Pietro was feeling left out of the joke.  “What?  You fuckers gonna tell me, or…?”

“You know how diet affects your taste?  Like pineapple juice….  He’s been doing cinnamon,” Scott reported from Al’s chest.

“I did Starbucks and Cinnabon yesterday, too.  I didn’t know I was coming here, but… um… surprise?” Al laughed.

Scott sat up and downed the glass of orange juice Pietro had brought him.  “Now with vitamin C.”  He looked over his new friend.  Al had a bit of a glow to him, or it might have just been his blonde hair and the lighting.  Some people just looked naturally good naked.  Scott handed him the other glass, which he drank down quickly, too.

“I’ve got some energy, now,” Scott said.  “I don’t know…  Can I…?”

Al smiled back at him.  “Can you what?”  He wanted him to say it.

“Can I fuck you?” Scott got out.  “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t… sex is fun, but I shouldn’t ask —”

Al shut him up with a kiss.  “You totally can.”  Al then nodded at Pietro, who left for his bedroom.  “Now, how do you want me?”

“Intensely.”

Al actually blushed.  He came back with, “Unconditionally.”

Scott smiled — inside.  This new friend.  All the new sex was fun, and all this opening-up and trying new things was…  But he was really enjoying making this new friend.  Part of him was comparing the sensation to his feelings for Fiona, but he didn’t want a conflict inside.  He shook that down.  He looked at his friend, great body and all, and just wanted to enjoy all of him.

“On your back okay?” Scott asked.  Al nodded.  “I don’t know if that’s harder or easier, but I want to be able to see you.  See your face.”

Pietro returned with a small bottle of lube and a three-pack sleeve of condoms to find Al sucking on Scott’s cock, getting him primed.

“I don’t think I’m ready to try eating…” Scott apologized.

“That’s okay.  That’s why Pete got the lube.”

“Do we need the condoms?” Scott asked.

“Not if you don’t want to,” Al told him.

“If I’m going to do this, I want to feel it.”

Al got into position on the couch while Pietro went about lubing the two of them up.

“This I tried with Cindy, my old girlfriend, but we didn’t get very far,” Scott told them.

“It’s going to be easier with me,” Al advised him, “but don’t start hammering me right away, okay?”

Scott snickered, then got onto the very serious business of penetration.  He stood between Al’s raised knees, lined himself to his hole, and pushed in gently.  Al was right — it was a lot easier than when he tried it with Cindy.  Still, it took three pushes to get his head inside right, and then it wanted to slide forward, but Scott didn’t give in to haste.  He took it easy but kept moving forward.  He hit a pause as Al clenched a little inside, so pulled back slightly, looked up at Al’s eyes.  Al nodded and Scott felt him relax, and gently pushed again until his pubes met Al’s balls.

Al groaned, “Oh, yes… god, I love your cock.  This is gonna be…”  He reached his arms out to hold Scott at his waist and help him find a speed and a rhythm as Scott drew back and filled him up, again.

Scott tried to equate this with fucking his girlfriends, but it was so much tighter.  He hadn’t had a sleeve this tight since he lost his virginity at thirteen with another 8th Grader.  The lube helped but it was still different from a pussy.  Scott was trying to be careful, didn’t want to hurt Al, not knowing that Al was waiting for him to let go and start giving him what he could.

Pietro clambered aboard the couch close to the couple.  He wanted to offer his cock to either mouth, but neither was paying attention to him.  Finally, Al opened his eyes and saw Pietro’s need.  “Take it easy, Pete.  Don’t push it.  Save what you got for Sebastian.”

“You guys are driving me nuts.  If I hadn’t cum last night…”  He wound up kneeling and running his hands along the both of them.  Al offered his hand to Pietro’s cock, but just gave it a gentle stroke, didn’t want to provoke an eruption.  “I don’t need your pity,” Pietro said, but then smiled as Al laughed.

Scott had no idea why the other two were laughing.  He was concentrating on the sensation.  He wondered if he could ever get a girl into a “DP” situation, but doubted something like that would happen to him in high school.  Maybe college.  He saw Fiona in his mind.  It actually caused him to skip a thrust.

Al caught that.  He let go of Pietro and leaned up, sitting up, but holding onto Scott’s back while he still thrust into him.  Scott adjusted how he held Al’s legs, holding him to him.  Al kissed Scott and Scott kissed back.  “Stay with me,” Al told him.  “Clear your head and… fuck me!”  He leaned back and took Scott with him, turning and bringing Scott onto the couch with him lengthwise, now face-to-face horizontal.  Pietro made the way clear.

“You want this?” Scott asked him, trying to add some vigor.  He sped up his thrusts, started slamming into Al, finding no resistance.

“Gimme that cock.  Fuck me!

Scott went all out, hammering Al from the waist as Al held him tight to him, urging him on, covering his mouth and sucking on his tongue.  Scott had to pull away to breathe, at one point.  Al let him go.  Scott kneeled, again, and brought Al’s legs to his shoulders, lifting his ass, holding him around the knees, keeping him as tight as he could.

It was stopping him from cumming, though, and Scott desperately wanted to cum.  It was too much.  There was a straight-line connection from the coupling to his brain.  It was so tight, even without him holding his legs, he didn’t know if he could cum while fucking him.  He didn’t want to stop.  Al didn’t want him to stop.  Al kept urging him on with, “Fuck… fuck… fuck me! … oh, fuck…”  He had to do something.

Scott pulled out.  Immediately, the blood that had been restricted flowed again to his glans, and he began to stroke off.  Al dropped his legs and propped himself on his elbows, first feeling the withdrawal and then the realization of the loss inside him, but he recognized Scott’s actions, his need.

“I’m cum—” was all Scott got out as a first blast shot across Al’s abdomen.  Scott dropped his aim as the second, more powerful blast shot out, striking Al’s cock.  The next hit his ass as Scott sought to get back inside, tried to find that warm sleeve he’d just left, and came inside Al for the next two shots.  Al pulled back, denying any more cum inside him, and scooted forward, taking Scott’s cock back in his mouth, taking what was left and cleaning him off.

Scott fell forward, bracing himself on Al’s shoulders and back.  Pietro helped pull him back to sitting, “And then England and Germany created a whole new currency and…”  Scott put his hand up like he was going to strike Pete, but just lightly slapped his cheek, and dropped to his shoulder, giving that a light shake.

Scott lay splayed out, spent, lightheaded, breathing for recovery.  Al joined him, holding him around the chest.  “You have to buy me dinner now…”

Scott laughed, but actually thought about that for a second.

“Okay, gimme your secret,” Al demanded.

The secret of my abilities? Scott wondered, then remembered what Al wanted.  He coughed up the first thing he could think of.  “My middle name is Wilfred,” he breathed out.

“Not good enough.  I already did the name thing.  And everyone hates their middle name.  Need something better.”  Al scraped off the cum that hit his stomach and what he could of that which hit his cock, and put his finger in his mouth.  “You do a lot of fruit juice, I’ll bet.”

“Soda is empty calories,” Scott said, massaging his own cock.  “I do a lot of peanut butter, so I was wondering…”

“No, I don’t taste that.”  Al kissed him, again.

Scott opened his eyes, located Pietro.  “Pete, thanks for calling him in.”

“That’s what I do.  I’m just the butler around here.  Host of the economic summits…” Pietro griped from his position.

“Come here,” Scott offered.

“No, you guys are right,” Pietro said.  “I want to cum like a firehose for Sebbie.”

Scott did a quick mental check.  How much would he have left for Fiona, if things went that way?  He stroked off yesterday morning, no time after school because they just got ready for the concert, then he came in Pete’s mouth last night, and now for Al.  He’d had lots of time between all those.  And this one would prevent him from coming too fast, like a pre-fuck blow job.  He would be fine.

“How are you feeling?” Al asked him.  “You ready to go for more?”

“More?” Scott asked.

“Think you can handle me?” Al asked, but with concern, not as a challenge.  “I’d really like to fuck you back.”

Scott’s eyes got small as he went inside his head.  He’d done a lot in being open to having sex with these two guys, and he’d enjoyed it.  Getting blown, fucking… even in sucking him off, he’d had a sense of control.  Could he do this?  Like Pete had told him, allowing penetration takes a lot.  You have to trust someone, or… find them incredibly exciting.

He looked at Al, his smile — just a nice smile, not teasing, not joking.  His hair, his eyes.  His body, which felt natural to hold.  He was exciting.  If he was ever going to consider this, the time was now, and with this guy.  With Al, his friend.

“Yeah, we can do this.  If you help me.”

Al hid his smile.  He was pleased, but didn’t want to jump and shout.  “Have you ever…?”

“Well,” Scott considered, “a finger, now and then.  And Cindy — the girl who tried anal with me? — she wouldn’t do it unless I was willing to, too.  So she put a rubber on her Mr. Purple and put it in me, further than I got with her.  It was okay — weird but okay.  She didn’t try and do any ‘revenge boning,’ or anything.  So, it would still… really… be my first time.  With any passion, I guess.”

Al and Pietro arranged Scott on his knees, leaning forward onto the couch, saying it would be easiest this way, even though Scott thought he’d like to be able to see everything.  For the next ten minutes, Al lubed Scott’s hole and inserted one finger, then two fingers, drawing slowly in and out, and then was able to sneak in a third finger.  Scott began to protest, but realized Al’s cock would be thicker than that, though probably more comfortable as a single unit, like Cindy’s vibrator had been.

At some point, Al decided that Scott would be okay, and withdrew his fingers.  Nothing was following them in, yet, though.  Scott craned his neck around and saw Pietro sucking on Al’s cock, getting him ready after those minutes of neglect.

Scott felt a twinge of jealousy, then, seeing Pete sucking on Al.  Al was his friend, now.  He should have Al’s cock in his mouth.  But as soon as that feeling hit him, it left again, Scott realizing the ridiculousness of it.  He took a breath and cleared his head with a laugh.

Al took his cock in hand and played at Scott’s door.  “Just take it easy, now.  Breathe and relax.  Don’t fight me.”

Scott wasn’t nervous.  More curious as to what it would feel like.  Like going on a ride at Six Flags, you eat up all the tension waiting to get on the ride, you know it will make your stomach flip, but it will be thrilling, and you’ll love it when you’re all done.  You just had to remember nothing bad would happen to you.  Unless someone didn’t inspect the track that morning.  Scott shut down that thought.

Al started pushing, and Scott’s ass slowly stretched around Al’s glans.  He didn’t fight.  He didn’t tighten up.  He willed his asshole to relax and not prevent Al from going the wrong way.  And the head was in, and it was big.  Scott took a sharp, deep breath, and clenched.  Oh, my god, it’s huge! Scott thought.  He knew it was about the same size as his own cock.  But like your tongue knows every little thing that goes on in your mouth, his asshole now knew the shape and girth of Al’s cock.  He wasn’t going to let Pietro’s fatty get anywhere near his ass!

“Take it easy,” Al cautioned, his voice soft and meant-to-be-soothing, and slowly pushed his shaft inside.  He paused to let Scott get used to it.  “How does that feel?”

“It’s… it’s okay.  Might hurt a little, but I’m doing okay.  It feels weird.”

“That’s fine.  Try to push back at me, inside.  It’ll feel right as we get going.”  Al continued to push inside Scott until his short pubes met his ass.  “We’re there.”  He paused, again, to let Scott get used to the stretching.

“It feels… full.”

“Yeah.  It will.  And if you let it, it’ll feel good, too,” he soothed.  He drew his cock back but not out, then pushed his length back inside Scott.  He did this three more times, slowly and evenly, and then picked up the pace.

Oh, fuck,” Scott moaned.

“Good fuck, or bad fuck?” Pietro asked, off to the side.

“Good fuck,” Scott breathed.  “Yeah, good fuck.”  He helped Al find a rhythm.

“Don’t grip me, Scott.  Relax.  Tell me,” Al said.


“What?” Scott wondered.

“Tell me that secret.  The fun secret.”  Al picked up the pace again and enjoyed the fuck.

Scott realized what he meant.  Distract himself and enjoy it.  Without putting any thought into it, he came up with a secret.  Something he hadn’t thought about for years, but it just came.  His sister.  What he did to his sister.  Nothing really bad.  Just…

“My sister, she likes Alpha-Bits.  For breakfast.  The letters.  Oh-ohhh… The cereal with the letters.  She liked to spell her name with the little letters.  Her name is Shea.  S-H-E-A.  I was mad at her.  Hmmm…  I poured her whole box into a big bowl and took out all the Ss, all the Hs, all the Es, and all the… all the As.  And I ate them.  I put the rest back.  Oh, fuck… fuck me…”

“I’m fuckin’ you…” Al said, loving that Scott was into it.

“Shea wanted to know who opened her box.  I told her I did, that I wanted to see what the toy inside was.  And I gave her the toy, said I didn’t want it.  Hah-ah!  She was mad about that.  But she didn’t know about the letters.  I’d folded the bag inside right.  Then she ate her bowl, and she couldn’t spell her name because she didn’t have any of the letters.  Mmm…  She couldn’t do it that day.  She couldn’t do it the next day.  Not all week until it was all gone.  Fuck!

Scott put up his hand.  “Let me… let me get on my back.”  Al pulled out, and Scott felt the immediate loss, the zloop, the slide of Al’s cock taking a vacation.  Al helped him onto his back, and positioned his legs as he knew they should be, and slid right back inside Scott, zipped the whole way in, making Scott’s eyes bug, making Scott laugh at that, the whole effort just a matter of seconds, and hammered his ass as he had been.

“So, your sister… What did she do?” Al asked, keeping Scott in the zone.

Fuck.  Fuck!  She called the company, the Alpha Bits company, whatever it is.  Number was on the box.  Kellogg’s?  The thing with the weird G?  I don’t know-oh-ohh…  But she complained that the box we bought didn’t have her letters.  A week later, they sent her a coupon for a free box.  She goes to the store, gets a new box.  And I do the same thing to her again.  All over again!  Fuck!  What are you hitting in there?  Your skin is shiny.  Come down here.”  Scott pulled Al down for a sweaty kiss.  Al told Scott to keep going.

“Shea gets mad and calls the cereal company again.  The lady.  Oh, fuck me…  The lady on the phone.  She’s like, ‘They probably just didn’t run the wheels that make half the letters that day.’  For that, you know, that shipment, the fuckin’ shipment or whatever.  Those boxes were probably missing T and L and Z, too, she said, who the fuck knows?  But Shea didn’t check for those.  Right?  FuckJust her fuckin’ letters.  So the lady apologized, but didn’t send her another coupon, this time.  No!  Fuck no!  ‘Cause she thought Shea was scamming her.  You know?”

Al smiled, watching Scott’s eyes stare at the action, his hand keeping his cock interested while his ass was pummeled.

“But I was mad. And I never told her.  I never fuckin’ told her.  Fuck me!  And to this day, she still thinks the cereal company fucked up!

Al laughed, and he could because he was the one fucking, not getting fucked.  “She never found out.  That’s good.  But now I know.”

“Now you know.”

“And now… I’m going to come on you,” Al declared, and slipped out of Scott’s ass and started stroking.

“In me,” Scott breathed.  “Cum inside me.  This might be my only time.  I want to know what it feels like.”

Al hesitated, but it was a request he couldn’t refuse.  Scott’s ass still had enough lube and he slid himself back inside.  The suddenness of it made Scott’s eyes cross, but he recovered.  It took several more thrusts to bring Al to that point, again, but he grit his teeth and shot his load inside Scott.  “Grrrfffffuuuuuck!”

Scott could feel Al’s cock kick, but not individual cum blasts, just the warmth spreading, the liquid, the weirdest feeling.  He put his hands out to Al’s shoulders, propping him up, and then let him collapse down on top of him.  Both held each other loosely but securely, hearts beating, chests rising and falling on each other’s, breathing each other’s neck.

“What’s that wild scent you’re wearing?” Al asked Scott’s clavicle.

“Coast — the eye opener,” Scott said in his best Ryan Seacrest.  “And you?”

“Sorry, nothing so fancy.  Just Old Spice Sport.  Didn’t know I was gonna…” Al trailed off.  He raised himself, took a deep breath in and out, and looked Scott in the eye.  “Is this it?”

Scott replied but could not answer.  “I don’t know.”

End of part two

Copyright 2025 – Tommy Linarcos
All rights reserved

Fiona and the International Scheme – Part 2 Read More »

Fiona and the International Scheme -Part 1

Fiona and the International Scheme -Part 1
By
Tommy Linarcos

Scott fell into his seat on the couch, directly across from the human pretzel known as Sebastian-and-Fiona, knotted together on the love seat.  His beer was held out in front of him, appearing to bounce slightly in his hand, but maintaining its level like a human gyroscope, not spilling a drop.

“Impressive,” noted Pietro, sitting in the easy chair next to Scott.  “My mother would thank you for not spilling that.”

“No worries,” Scott said, then took a swig of his Busch beer.  It was probably on sale, the stuff Dusty Liquors gladly sold to high school students with bad mustaches to get it out of the store, so if it spilled, it was no great loss.  “Probably got some clean-up to do, anyway.”  He motioned to the other twenty teens strewn about Pietro’s apartment.  “Your mom’s not coming home tonight, right?”

“No,” Pietro almost laughed.  “Wouldn’t get away with this if she was…”

The post-concert gathering was reaching midnight.  Soon, the Freshmen and Sophomores would start looking to the Juniors and Seniors to see if anyone was willing to drive them home.  Scott was usually a soft-touch for that, but decided if he was too drunk, then he couldn’t be of any service.  When the current episode of Outer Banks ended, it was a likely bet that the whining would begin.

“You remember at Danny’s party?  That his mom was actually there the whole time, locked inside her bedroom?” Scott laughed.

“Oh, I remember, all right,” Pietro smiled.  “I was the one who tried picking the lock, when she opened the door and told me to fuck off before I ruined her door knob!”

“That was you?” Scott shook his head and had another drink.  “Who were you with, then?”

“Raymond, from Swim,” Pietro recalled.  “But not for long.  You were with Cindy, weren’t you?”

“Actually, we’d just broken up, so had no need for the back bedroom,” Scott winked.

“Shame,” Pietro decided, finishing his own beer.

Both boys then realized they were staring at Sebastian-and-Fiona.  Seabass and Fee.

“They arrived late, tonight,” Pietro realized.

“No they didn’t,” Scott told him.  “They were in the backseat of Danny’s SUV.”  Scott caught Pietro’s eye.  “Until I told those two Sophomores that they could catch them naked if they snuck outside and spied on them.  But the kids blew it.  Too damn noisy.”

“Sophomores…”

“What’s on your mind?” Scott asked him.  “Why do they have your attention — other than their furious making out?”

Fiona lifted her head and looked their way, quizzical, like she’d heard him talking about them.  Scott raised his beer in greeting, Fiona smiled at him, then went back to business.

“Let’s talk about politics,” Pietro offered, leaning forward.  Scott wasn’t sure what he meant until Pietro started in.  “So, Ireland and Mexico wanted some country to host their… economic negotiations.  They’d heard the queen of Italy was out of the country, so they asked the Italian president if they could come over and negotiate.”

Scott took a drink, his eyes furrowed as if the beer tasted flat; the beer was fine, but he was figuring out what the hell Pietro was talking about.  He still focused on the kissing couple eight feet away.  “Wait, Seabass is Mexican, right?”

“Yes…” Pietro said, quietly holding in his patience, “and I’m Italy, dumbass.  Pietro?  You know?  Mr. Pasta Fazool?”  Scott was a smart guy, Pietro knew, so which beer was he actually on?

Scott picked it up.  Fiona was Ireland, that was easy.  Mexico and Ireland wanted to come over to Italy’s place and…  “Did Italy wind up hosting the conference?”  He also picked up the bag of Jay’s Potato Chips no one was paying attention to and got about alleviating his munchies.

Pietro laughed with his eyes, knowing Scott was finally on the right page.  “Not at first, but he gave in and let Mexico and Ireland come over and use his… conference room.”

“Not at first, huh?” Scott observed, trying to speak with his mouth half-full.  “I thought Italy and Mexico got along okay…”

“They do,” Pietro assured him.  “But Italy was hoping that he could… pursue… economic ties with Mexico, himself.”

Scott took a long swig of his beer.  “So, what did Italy get out of the deal?  A case of cheap beer?  Or just the satisfaction of being a good friend?”

“No,” Pietro smiled.  “It seems that Mexico brought a gift from Colombia to help entice Ireland into the deal, and Italy got a little of it.”

“I take it that was how Italy was so generous at tonight’s soirée.”

“I’m a good host.  A good sharer,” Pietro said, falling off story.  “Charlie brought the cheap beer.”

Scott looked at the couple kissing.  “So, a closed-door session, and Italy had to clean up, later?”

“No and yes,” Pietro hinted.  This got Scott’s attention.  “So, it wasn’t exactly a three-way negotiation, but Italy was able to get his hands on Mexico’s peninsula.”

That made Scott chuckle.  “Italy got a taste of the Yucatán, eh?”

“Not yet,” Pietro admitted, dropping his smile.  “Just played in the sand.”

Scott took that in.  “And was Mexico successful in their negotiations?”

“Ireland gave him almost everything he asked for.”

“Damn.”  Scott finished his bottle.  “I was… England was… working quite hard to break up Ireland and Poland, and when that happened, England was hoping to reunify with Ireland.”

Pietro wasn’t sure who Poland was in their game, but figured it was Fiona’s old boyfriend.  “Why didn’t England say anything?”

“I did, I just didn’t want to be a rebound.  I thought I’d give her a little time to… recover from the winter recession.”  Scott picked the beer back up, but it was still empty.

“You like her.  Like, actually.”

“Yeah.”

Pietro put his hand on Scott’s shoulder.  “C’mon, you’re a good-looking guy.  Those brown curls, superhero chin, these shoulders… I’d love to see your abs…  Any guy or girl would say ‘yes’ to you….”

“Flattery,” Scott told his friend with the black hair and faded Mediterranean tan.  “But she’s the one I want.  The one I’m supposed to be with.”

Across from them, Fiona disentangled herself from Sebastian and walked down the short hall.  Scott watched her move, her grace, even in blue jeans.

Sebastian had Pietro’s eye for a moment, looking at him next to Scott, then frowned and found the TV.

“That’s why you sent the Sophomores outside…” Pietro put together.

Scott didn’t answer.

Pietro took a moment, found his own beer and killed that off.  “What if… it was time for Italy and England to form their own partnership.”

Scott looked over at him.  “Petey… you know I’m not…”

Pietro waved him down.  “Not partnership, then.  Um, alliance might be a better word.”  Scott’s curious look let him continue.  “What if… England attended the next economic summit, as the guest of Italy… and… Italy was able to distract Mexico while England pleaded his case for a merger.”

Scott was not convinced.  “England could do that any day at school.  England should do that someday at school,” he told the empty bottle.  “Distraction isn’t a…”

“Come here,” Pietro demanded, and led Scott into the kitchen to get fresh beers.  It was dark in there, only lit by the open fridge and one lighthouse nightlight.  “I’m talking about full engagement,” Pietro clarified.  “I’ve seen her naked.  They did it right out there,” he whispered, motioning back to the frontroom.  “I tried to join in, but you know I’m only interested in Sebbie.”

Scott got the bottle opener and popped both their beers.  “I don’t want to watch them…”  Scott did want to see Fiona naked, but that was not the goal, and he sure didn’t want to be a spectator to such an event.  It was hard enough seeing them make-out on the loveseat.

“They were able to just kind of push me aside,” Pietro continued.  “But with you there, we could all be ‘appropriately dressed’ and manage to… swap.  I help you, you help me.”

Scott was catching on, but realized it required some other form of participation.  “But you’re not talking about an orgy.  ‘Hey, let’s invite Scott and everyone fucks Fiona.’  You’re talkin’ me and you, and them two, then we mix things up.”

“And keep them that way.”

Scott didn’t drink, yet.  He was either going to tell Pietro to go to hell, or find a way to make this work.  “Pete, you’re a nice guy, you’re my friend, but I’m really not attracted to you that way.”

Pietro didn’t let the slight hurt him; there was no insult.  “I’m not talking about falling in love and becoming a couple.  Just playing around enough to make an impression.  Then we both get who we want, fall in love with them, and become couples.”

Two other people came into the tiny kitchen, and then Fiona exited the washroom.  She looked both ways down the short hall, and came into the kitchen, herself.  She looked at Scott holding his fresh beer, then asked, “Pete, do you have any water?”

Pietro went to the fridge, moving aside the two girls who just were standing in the open fridge door.  He pulled a short Aqua Pod and gave it to Fiona, then realized he shouldn’t be a part of this potential conversation, and excused himself and moved the girls along.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Fiona observed of Scott.  “Your part of the concert was a lot of fun, but you don’t seem like you’re all there, now.”

“I’m kinda stuck on Pete’s song, going through my head.  Kinda sad.”

“You or the song?”  She leaned on the counter, taking a more permanent spot.

“Both.  But not really.”  He’d brought up the point, but tried to play it down.

“You were really good in that 80s medley.  What’s that one song you did, with your sax?”

“I did two showpieces in that.  ‘Baker Street’ and ‘Careless Whisper.’  You probably mean one of those.”

“Yeah.”  Fee shifted the water bottle from hand to hand.  “You okay?”

“I was just thinking.  You wore this shirt, before.”

“Yeah, it’s an old shirt.”  A cute, white, long-sleeved henley, with blue stripes.  The three buttons at her neckline were open.  She tugged at her sleeves.

“No, I mean you wore that when we went to the Anti-Prom.”  Last spring, when all of their older friends were going to Prom, he and Fiona went off on a date of their own.

“God, you remember that?  That was a great night.”  Her smile lit up the dark kitchen.  “We took the bikes — you didn’t have your car, yet.  Pizza Palace, the forest, the river, the swings in the park…”

“You said you’d get your own bike and we could ride around the world.”

“That’s right, I borrowed your brother’s bike.  And then we dropped off the bikes and you walked me home instead of letting me ride and then pick up the bike the next day.”

“I had to figure out some way to make the night last longer.”

It got quiet, because Fiona remembered what happened next.  “You kissed me.”

“I sure did.”

Her brow furrowed.  “Why didn’t you ask me out?  Like for real?”

“I did.  You said you had to think about it,” Scott told his bottle.

“Oh.”  She bit her lip.  A couple other boys had expressed interest to her at that time, too, and she’d wound up dating none of them.  “That was kind of a crazy time.  And then I left for a month to North Carolina.”

“And when you came back, everything had changed.  We went back to just being us.”  Scott still hadn’t looked up, nor taken a drink of his beer.

“That was a long time ago.  Then you found Cindy.”

“You found Leo.  And now you’ve got Seabass.”

“Sebbie.”

“He’ll never be Sebbie to me,” Scott said.  “He’s Sebbie to Pete, though.”

Fiona just breathed.  “I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, you asked.  I’ve got a song in my head and that’s why I’ve got this.”  He picked up his beer.

Fiona just nodded her head, wiped off the bottle condensation in her hands onto her jeans, and headed back out front.

Scott let her go, then followed.  His seat on the couch was taken by some Freshman.

Pietro saw Scott enter.  “Hey, kiddies, it’s midnight.  Do you know where your parents are?” he called out to the masses.  “Better be nice to Charlie or Danny if you want a ride home.”

That started a small chaos where the underclassmen began negotiating.  A couple of them didn’t even know where they were, and probably could have walked home, but pleaded for a ride.  People asked if Pietro was kicking them out and how late he would let them stay.  Pietro assured them that he was fine with whenever, but knew some had a curfew.

Scott got his seat back and plummeted into it as he had done before.  He got about finishing the bag of potato chips, too.

Charlie asked why Scott couldn’t drive anyone.

Pietro found his old seat open, as well, and sat back down.  “Scott is wasted, if you haven’t noticed.  Only go with him if you never want to get home.”  He quite obviously took Scott’s hand and brought his first two fingers to his lips, licking off the salt.

Scott didn’t flinch, didn’t snap.  “I can drive…” he said to the ceiling.

Across the way, Fiona caught the action, stopped kissing Sebastian, and made concerned eyes at Scott.  Scott just laughed a little and shrugged to Fiona.  She laughed back, their eyes connecting.  Something to talk about, later.

Scott turned to Pietro, a new look in his eye.  “But what about…” he started, taking his fingers back.  “Mexico?  Is he…?  I mean, I always kind of thought he was, but…”

“Mexico is definitely bi-coastal, I can tell you that.  Atlantic and Pacific,” Pietro assured him.  He stood up and took the newly-opened spot on Scott’s left on the couch.  He took a swig of his beer, then set it down on the coffee table next to Scott’s.  “But one night with me, and he’ll sail the Atlantic for good.”

“So how am I supposed to be…?”

Pietro draped his arm across the sofa behind Scott, running his finger across his right shoulder.

Scott thought a moment.  God, he wanted Fiona.  He saw blonde Fiona’s ear and Seabass’s mop of black hair in some mashup that looked like a confused Muppet.  He couldn’t be angry at Seabass… Sebastian.  He just got the girl that Scott wanted, due to his own inaction, Scott knew.  And Pietro wanted Sebbie.  The plan, what there was of it, so far, could have some merits.  He was just too frustrated to think of what they could be.

“If this is going to work, start it with me, now,” Pietro whispered in Scott’s ear.

Scott, still in deliberation, threw his left leg over Pietro’s right, anyway.

“That’s it,” Pietro smiled.  His left hand found its way to Scott’s shirt collar and traced the button placket down his chest.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Scott said into his chin.

“We’re not doing anything, yet.”

“I don’t think I can kiss you, if that’s what you want.  That’s too personal.”  Scott slipped his left arm into the hole in the couch around Pietro’s waist, anyway.  “I don’t mean that to insult you…”

“I get it.” Pietro kissed Scott’s neck.  “Didn’t you ever kiss an ugly girl?”

“No.  All the girls I know are very pretty, you son-of-a-bitch,” Scott breathed a laugh as Pietro’s hand dropped further down, hovering at his belt line.

“Of course, they are.  Well, we’re just playing.  Can you pretend to have fun?  You might even have a little fun by accident, you know?”  Pietro massaged Scott’s jeans, tempting his cock to come to life.  And it did.

Scott turned to Pietro, and might have actually tried a kiss except that a round of goodbyes was pulling the party host away.  Pietro disengaged himself from Scott, got off the couch, and made sure nobody was stealing anything as they left.

Fiona and Seabass had hardly moved, but Fiona was staring at Scott, now, sitting alone on the couch.  “Scott?”

Scott picked up the scene.  If England and Ireland could…  Never mind that.  Just go with it.  “You see this?” He referred to the bulge in his jeans, the obvious erection.  “Gets me all excited then just leaves.  Bastard!”  He laughed and finally took a drink of his beer.  Look at what you’re making me do, Fiona… what lengths I’m willing to go through…  He was in it, now.

The greater mass of twenty teens shuffled out, leaving about six behind, including Fiona.  She turned to Sebastian and asked, “How are we getting home?  I’ve got until one, but…?”

“I live a block away, but you better get a ride,” Sebbie said.  “Will Scott take you?”

Scott stood up and crumpled the empty potato chip bag then took another swig of his beer.  He looked at his shirt and pretended to dust off chip crumbs, but there actually were some hiding there and they bounced off into the dim lighting.  “Not sure I’m the best guy for that, Fee,” he laughed.

Fiona uncurled herself from Sebbie, and called to Pietro at the door, “Hey, did Danny leave, yet?”

Pietro acknowledged her and called out to the street, “Hey, Danny, hold for one more.”

Scott stumbled across the room, playing Pietro’s suggestion.  “No, wait, Fee, I can drive you.  I’ll take you home, I’m not that bad.”

Fiona held Scott steady.  Not really, but Scott loved having her hands on him, even if it was for pretend.  “No, you better get some coffee in you, Scotty.”  She kept one hand on his waist as she reached for her jacket.

“Coffee won’t help,” Pietro said from the door.  “Then he’d just be a wide-awake drunk.  He can sleep it off, here.”

Fiona looked Scott in the eye with that pronouncement.  “You going to be okay?  You know what you’re doing?”

She was this close.  Thisclose.  He could just kiss her.  Kiss her right now.  Kiss her and she’d know what he felt for her.  But then he’d have to get into it with Seabass.  “I’m not sure.  I’m taking an option.”

“Scott…”

He stared at her.  He almost gave it away, he was going to tell her what he should have since she broke up with Leo.  He brought his hand to her cheek.  He was going to tell her that he was hopelessly, madly, incurably —

“Hey, if you’re going, you got to go, now!” Pietro called from the door.

Fiona fell back.  “Yeah, yeah…”  A final look at Scott.  “Be good.  Get some sleep.”  Then Sebastian walked her to Danny’s car.

Pietro didn’t lock up.  There were still a few left, staying later.  He wasn’t kicking anyone out.  Scott found his seat, again.

Two girls were running through the Netflix posters, searching for a title.  Too many rows were dropping by, too quickly.  “He’s got to have it on his list, doesn’t he?” asked the giggly one.

“Just go to ‘search,’ it’ll be faster…” said the other giggly one.

Soon, Series 1-Episode 1 of Di4ri was playing.  It was an Italian teen soap full of eye-candy.  Two girls, Pietro, and Sebastian all sat on pillows in front of the TV, pointing at the boys, one scene of which had them all shirtless.  One character’s name was ‘Pietro,’ and they were teasing the real-life Pietro that if he was as handsome as the TV Pietro, then…

Scott put up with the story, it was cute enough, but he couldn’t see the subtitles with all their heads in the way, and started debating on just getting out of there.  He wasn’t really drunk.  Well, he’d had three, maybe four, beers, but he was no lightweight.  And a hit or two of Pete’s joint, but he wasn’t feeling it, though.  A cop might feel he was DUI, though.  He was feeling alone, though.

Both Danny and Charlie had come back to the apartment after their runs, but the vibe had died considerably.  Charlie took the remainder of his beer and left. 

Danny pulled Scott aside.  “What are you doing?  What was all that before?”

Scott took a second to contemplate.  “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” Scott admitted, but it came from somewhere.  “Talk to me tomorrow.  This is about Fiona.”

Danny nodded warily, then clapped his friend on the shoulder.  “Get some sleep.”  He wound up driving the two girls home.

“Pietro, your place available anytime tomorrow?” Seabass asked, putting his jacket on, noting Scott was embedded in the couch.

Pietro, cleaning up the remaining bottles, breathed out his reply, as if it were a burden, “Yeah… I mean, sure.  You guys can come over.  Make it sometime in the PM, though.  I don’t know what time I’m going to wake up.”

Sebastian pointed his chin toward Scott.  “Is he really spending the night with you?”

Pietro smiled, both inside and out; Sebbie was taking the bait.  “Well, I was serious that he could stay and sleep off his high.  He seems to be stuck to the couch.  But who knows?”

Sebastian looked back toward Pietro’s bedroom door, and then back to the front door.  “Do you…?”

“Actually, I’m kind of tired, too.  It’s been a long day,” Pietro told the wall.  It sounded like Sebastian was giving him an opening, but he knew it would probably just be a blow job, maybe traded blow jobs, at best, if he took him up on it.  That’s not what he wanted.  Sebbie’d sent Fiona home — let him go home, too, let him get worked up for tomorrow, Pietro plotted.  “Go on home, make your mama happy, and I’ll see you two sometime tomorrow when you get here.”

Sebastian breathed out his frustration, nodded, zipped his jacket, and headed outside.  Pietro locked up and shut off the big lamp.  Only the TV was still on.

“He didn’t even say goodbye,” Scott snickered.

“Did you expect him to?  He’s not sure about you.  Can see it in his eyes.”

“About me?”

“Yeah,” Pietro noted.  “He sees you looking at Fiona, he sees you all close when she left, he sees you and me…  I said ‘no’ to a quick blow job.  He’s wondering what’s up and why he’s losing things.  And I’m hoping he’s confused about Fiona and what he’s doing with her, really.”

Pietro picked up the remote control and shut off the TV, leaving the apartment in darkness.  Slowly, their eyes adjusted to the glow from the streetlights sneaking in through the front window.  “Come on,” Pietro ordered, holding out his hand to help Scott up.

Scott waited a moment, then took Pietro’s hand and used the leverage to stand.  “Petey, what are we doing?”

“Going to bed.”  Pietro knew how that sounded and didn’t want to make Scott panic.  “I mean, you can leave, if you want to, but you really shouldn’t drive, and the bed is much more comfortable than the couch.”  He led the way back, while Scott was still attached to him.

Scott figured he could think clearly enough.  He went with Pietro down the short hall to his mother’s bedroom.  He could stop, he could balk, but he didn’t really want to.  Part of him wanted to do this.

The mother’s room had a queen-size bed, perfect for two.  Scott watched Pietro begin to remove his clothes.  There was no seduction.  Pietro was not kissing Scott’s shoulder like before, he wasn’t opening Scott’s jeans for him, he wasn’t whispering in Scott’s ear.  Scott pried off his own shoes and unbuttoned his shirt.  Pietro nodded.  When both were down to their boxers, Pietro opened up the covers and got in.  Scott did the same on his side.

“So,” Pietro started, “about the plan.”

“Yes,” Scott acknowledged that he was willing to discuss it.

“When Fiona and Sebbie get here, we want them to see us in action.  And it has to look convincing, not like it’s the first time, like we just started when the doorbell rang,” Pietro said in the dark.  There was one window in the bedroom, but the light leaking in was a very dim blue/green, and difficult to see eyes, even.  “Don’t worry, I’m not expecting to fuck you in the ass tomorrow.  I want to fuck Sebbie in the ass tomorrow.”

“So what are you expecting me to do?” Scott asked.  There was no fear in his voice, just business.

“We’ll have to be intimate.  Hands.  You said kissing was too personal, but you’re going to have to kiss me.  Or let me kiss you.  Maybe trade blow jobs.  We’ll see when it’s the right time to make the switch.  It won’t happen as soon as they walk in.”

“No, I knew that,” Scott admitted.  Like Pietro, he had been thinking about how the plan might proceed, too.  “And we need a reason for us to stay in the same room, instead of them asking to come in here or your room.  We want them to join us.”

Pietro was impressed that Scott had thought this out, too.  “So what are you willing to try?”  He moved closer to Scott under the covers and let his hand find Scott’s abs.  “Ooh, these are nice.  I still can’t see them, but they feel nice!”

“Glad you like them,” Scott almost laughed.  He slid over a little more, himself, let his hand find Pietro’s arm then slid up to his shoulder, then glided down onto his pecs.  An action… not normally done guy-to-guy, but here, with a purpose, Scott could give in to expectation.  He knew Pietro had suffered a couple small injuries on the school’s gymnastic team, but those were just strains he recovered from, but when he’d really wrenched his knee on the wrestling team this past winter, he was out for both sports. Still, he’d kept up his exercise.  His shoulders and pecs were quite… healthy.

Pietro smiled in the dark.  Scott was open to something!  “Have you done anything before?” he asked.

“Middle school stuff,” Scott admitted.  “Danny and I figuring out what our dicks were for, what they could do.  What it felt like when you let someone else do it for you.”

Pietro let his hand drop down off Scott’s abs and into his boxers, immediately meeting his hardening cock.  He wrapped his hand around it and made sure it was hard.

Scott breathed in with the sensation, brought his hands back and pushed his boxers down and kicked them off deep inside the comforter.  “When I said I don’t want to kiss you, I didn’t mean you’re ugly — like you said did I kiss an ugly girl.  You’re just not my type, you know?  I mean, I know you’re a good-looking guy, just not for me.”

“Don’t worry.  I know you didn’t mean it that way.”  Pietro’s hand found the length of Scott’s cock and began a gentle stroke.  He curled a little and began licking the nipple he’d teased earlier.   “So, what is your type?”

Scott chose the obvious answer.  “Fiona’s my type.”

Pietro wasn’t going to let him off that easy.  “I mean, if you know I’m a good-looking guy, like you said, but I’m not your type, who would you go gay for?”

“Ha!”  Scott knew he’d been cornered.  “If…”  He took the opportunity to start yanking down Pietro’s underwear; if they were going to do this, they were going to do this.  Pietro stopped the stroke and assisted him.  When the boxerbriefs were gone, the two got back to business and Scott discovered the girth of Pietro’s cock.  “If I did… I think… there was this one guy.  He did a play, and I think he was on your gymnastics team Freshman or Sophomore year.  He was blonde, and… he looked… I don’t know, there was just something about him.  I haven’t really given this a lot of thought, but when you asked, he just came to mind.”

“You’re talking about Al,” Pietro said with authority.

“Yeah, I’m talking about Al.”

“Pretending you don’t know his name… might be on my team…”  Pietro lifted the comforter and just threw the top down the bed.  He climbed over Scott, straddling his legs.  “His real name is Adalbert, but don’t tell him I told you.”

“Adalbert Schroeder,” Scott considered.  “Yeah, if I was going to go gay, I guess it would be with someone who looked like him.”  He relaxed and helped Pietro find his positioning; he knew what he was after.

“Just looked like him?  Have you ever met him?”  Pietro stroked Scott’s cock from his bush to his expanding head and, on the next downstroke, wrapped his lips around Scott’s cock and took him inside, swirling his tongue around the head in welcome.  He took Scott down halfway and then a little more before coming back up and bobbing five times in quick succession.

Scott gasped and couldn’t answer for a second, or a minute.  Pietro had a talent, he’d give that to him, for sure.  “I’ve met him once or twice, but chit-chat, ‘hey, nice job’ type of thing.”  He ran his fingers into Pietro’s hair, but stopped.  It was a normal reaction to a blow job, but still felt too personal to do it to Pietro.  Fuck it, he thought, and did it, anyway.  “I have a feeling we could be friends, like we wanted to talk more, but couldn’t with the time, or something.  I don’t know.  I’m on Soccer and Swimming, he’s on Gymnastics and — is he in all the plays or just that one?  If he were in the Jazz Band like you and me, then who knows?”

Pietro didn’t answer, just used his tongue and throat the best way he knew how.  Scott knew part of the fun of a blow job was watching the girl, and catching her eyes when she wanted to know your reaction to something she was doing, but that couldn’t happen here in the dark.  But to that aspect, everything Pete was doing was a mystery, then.  Scott relaxed and just centered his mind to the wet sensations of Pete’s skills on his cock.

Pietro had pulled off him to lick the sides, the popsicle move, then took ahold of his shaft about halfway, licked around his head, and then sucked down to his hand.  Each time he bobbed to the top and back down, his mouth pushed his hand lower, taking more of Scott into his throat, until his hand dropped to cradle his balls.  Pietro pulled off, and moved down to suck at Scott’s balls, and did a quick move to poke his tongue at his anus.  Scott immediately flinched, his knees jerking, but a smile grew on his face just as quickly.

“Fuck me…” Scott groaned.

Pietro had to answer that.  “Are you serious?  You want that?”

Scott had to bring his mind to the present.  He’d been getting nearer his explosion point when suddenly all ecstasy below the waist came to a grinding halt.  “What?”

“You want me to fuck you?”

“No, I…  What?  No.  I…  You stopped!”

Pietro went back to sucking Scott’s cock.  He could tease him further, but he wasn’t that mean.  His tongue found Scott’s pleasure point — the skin just below his crown down to his scar, and he worked that.

“Ffff… damn… Pete… Petey… I’m going to cum in your mouth,” Scott rasped.

“Don’t worry,” somehow was understandable.

“No, I mean I am going to cum in your mouth,” Scott demanded, holding Pietro’s head.

“Yes.  You are.”

Scott’s muscles tensed, he doubled about, and made faces no one could see.  “Gah…!  Oh, fff…”  He shot off into Pietro’s throat six times, each blast allowing him to relax his hold over himself until he was flat under Pietro, again.

Pietro pulled himself off of Scott’s cock, but gently held it, rocked it, letting it know everything was all right, that it could relax and unwind.  He swallowed a couple extra times, clearing the remainder from inside his cheeks.  “You okay?” he asked Scott.

“Totally okay…”

“Don’t fall asleep, now.”

“I know, I know.  I’m not gonna be a bad friend.”  Scott knew what he would have to do.

“You taste pretty good.  Only a little salt in there.  Still on your competition diet?”  Pietro climbed up Scott’s body and kissed him.

Scott let himself be kissed, but barely kissed back.  “Bastard.”  There was a little cum given back, of course.  “Yeah, though I had some beer and chips, tonight, I don’t think they had time to invade my system.  So you get the good stuff.”

“I got some good stuff for you…”

“I’ll bet you do.”  Scott shook his head and gently shoved Pietro off of him.  This was easier in the dark, he knew.  He’d have to do it again in the daylight tomorrow, but here, now, in the dark, it wasn’t necessarily real.  And he didn’t have to see Pietro’s eyes.  It was his eyes that Scott didn’t like — just something about the guy’s dark eyelids, always half-closed.  Girls probably thought it was sexy, but he didn’t.  He liked Petey, he was his friend, but even if he messed around with him like this, there was never going to be a chance he’d fall in love.

“How you want me?”

“Just lay down.  Let me get a feel for you.”  He put his hands on Pietro’s shoulders and slowly ran them down his pecs and abs. He’d been in contact with his teammates’ bodies on the soccer field and in the pool without shame, but this was different.  This was something he never thought he’d do, didn’t know he’d even wanted to do, but here in the dark, he could give in to curiosity, enjoy the tactile feeling of another guy’s body.  “Your knee going to be back in shape ever?”

“Not for Wrestling.  That’s done.  No Senior year for me.  I’m still going to try with Gymnastics.  With coach’s help, we’ll find something I can do without hurting it.”

“So, no Soccer with me?”

“I’m not going to run on it.  Or get checked, or tackled…  Whatever you call it.”

Scott would laugh, but knew it was sensible.  “Jazz Band doesn’t require any of that.  Except blowing.”

Pietro did laugh.  “And I can do a good job with that.  And on my trumpet, too.  Question is… is saxophone the only thing you can blow?”

“Well, that’s what we’re going to find out…”  Scott moved down to take ahold of Pietro’s cock.  “You’re completely shaved?”

“That’s how I like it.  And it makes my dick look bigger.”

“No, it doesn’t.  It just makes you look gayer.”

“Well, for me, that’s not a bad thing.”  Pietro pretended to cough.  “Got one of your hairs caught in my throat.  I think you’ve got me on length, even with your hair.  But I’m thicker than you.”

“Yeah, you are…” Scott admitted while getting his mind ready to take Pietro’s cock.

“You measure yourself?”

“I’m seven, seven-and-a-quarter, maybe.  Cindy measured me a while ago — she’s like ‘Eight inches!’ but I let her keep thinking that.”  Scott found that Pete’s cock head was fatter and flatter than his.  A battering ram.  “No way you’re fucking me with this thing.”

Pietro understood.  “Penetration is a hard thing to negotiate.  You have to be willing to give up control, and power.  Until you find the pleasure.”

“Easier with someone you trust, then.”  In that instant, Scott got a whole new appreciation for what a girl went through.

“Or find incredibly exciting!”  Pietro pumped his hips.  “Now, hey, no more delays, get busy.”

Scott nodded in the dark.  “Just remember the old saying — there’s no such thing as a bad blow job.”

“There better not be, or I’m gonna get to face-fuck Scott Walker.”

Scott gave himself one last instant of hesitation — he’d never done this before, but how hard could it be? — then went down on Pietro.  His mouth immediately thought Pietro’s cock head was huge.  He could barely fit the whole thing in his mouth, how did he expect to take any of Pietro’s shaft?  He tried to suck it thinner by adding pressure, and tried to see how much he could get down, or at least inside.

“Take it easy,” Pietro advised.  “Use your tongue, more.  Think about what you like to feel, then try to recreate that.  You’ll get it.”

Scott took the advice and put his tongue to work, then started a slow bob, started that in-and-out.  He had to open his mouth wider than he thought he would have to, but he was okay, now.  He didn’t try to suck so hard.  There was really no taste to worry about, it was as he expected, and Pete was clean.  He still smelled like Pete, but that was Pete…!

Scott pulled off and licked the shaft, going to the spots that he liked, trying to feel Pete’s reaction whether he liked it or not.  Keep it wet.  Swirl.  Try again how much he could take inside before the gag reflex.  He’d wanted to try and do it right, whatever that is, not just bobbing for fifteen minutes.  But as he just relaxed, he got better.  There was a satisfaction, he found, to the sucking.  It was kind of fun.  He thought he understood how girls could hate doing this, yet at the same time wanting to be great at it.

“Use your — there you go,” Pietro was going to point out not to forget to use his hands when Scott recalled that very thing, jerking while he sucked and cradling Pete’s balls with the other.  Scott almost snickered to find Pete’s balls were a little fuzzy — Not too easy to shave those, is it?

Pietro let him sail for a bit longer, but soon shifted, pulled out, and got to his knees.  “I’m going to help you out.  I’m almost ready to cum but not quite there.  Here, sit up.”  Scott did so.  “Flatten your tongue, take me in, don’t block me.”

Pietro began to quickly fuck Scott’s mouth; Scott had to take it and allow it.  Pietro pulled out and stroked himself, then pushed back inside and shot his load, holding Scott’s head captive.  Scott figured what was going on, but still wasn’t quite ready for the onslaught.  The cum pooled in his mouth, but he did his best to swallow as it came.  Anyone’s entire spooge was really only a tablespoon or two, but inside the mouth, it felt like a half pint.  He did his best, but still wound up coughing a little out.  The most notable thing about it all, Scott determined, was the heat of fresh cum, straight from the body to the tongue, not instantly cooling as it hit your abs or chest.

“Sorry, never had that much, before,” Scott confessed.

“Middle school?” Pietro asked while recovering.

“No, didn’t do it back then,” Scott said.  “Girls.  They kiss you afterward, think they’re cute giving you a taste of your own cum, like I’d never tasted it, before.”

“See the problems with girls?” Pietro kidded.

“I… only want one girl’s problems.”

“You guys are really close.  It should have happened before now.”

“That’s my fault.”

“Yeah, well, let’s fix that.”  Pietro pushed Scott back down onto the bed, and fished below to drag the comforter back up.  “I was going to ask if you wanted to try fucking me, but you should actually get the sleep you pretended to need.”

Scott agreed and they found their space.  Pietro pulled Scott closer to him.  “Cuddling isn’t gay.  It’s human.”

Scott allowed his friend to rest his head on his chest.  He put his arm around him, they locked a leg, and fell asleep.

End of part one

Copyright 2025 – Tommy Linarcos
All rights reserved

Fiona and the International Scheme -Part 1 Read More »

My Brother Saves Halloween – Part 3

My Brother Saves Halloween – Part 3
By
Tommy Linarcos

“It’s okay.  Henry, it’s okay,” I soothed.  “It was our first time.  For both of us, it was just our first time, so…”

Something clicked in my brother’s mind.  “Our first time?”

Then it clicked, what I’d said.  “Our first time.”

“Just our first time, huh?”

“Yeah, just our first time.”

Henry started fucking me, again.  I guess he’d never really gone soft — his cock, I mean.  And it was still inside me.  He was just looking at me, and I was looking at him, both of us with goofy smiles on our faces, and we started fucking again.

And that’s when the phone rang.

Both of us were in shock, like we’d been caught by Mom walking in, but it was just the phone.  Still, we pulled out of each other in a hurry and jumped off the bed, both of us running around trying to find our phones.  Whose was it?  Where was it?  Looking back, it was kind of funny, seeing Henry running around with a boner, though all the stuff leaking out of me while I ran wasn’t too much fun.

It’s like we were trying to get dressed to answer the phone!  Something in our brains finally clicked, and we stopped, and Henry picked up his phone.  “It’s Mom.”

“Answer it!” I whisper-screamed.

“Hi, Mom!  We’re okay, we weren’t doing nothing.”  Yep, that’s my brother.

“No, we’ve actually been here the whole time…  No, no one came to get us, so…  We’re upstairs…  Yeah, in our room.  Or the, you know, sitting room, the place with the TV.  We’re watching TV.”  Henry made motion to me to go fix the TV in the other room. 

I flipped around the couch and realized the TV was still on the channel guide and found something — an old movie from last century called Phantasm.  I don’t know what it’s about, but it looked scary, and it was Halloween, so I left it on that.

Henry wandered over, still naked, but his cock wasn’t pointing up, anymore.  It still looked good, and it was kind of pointing at me, but it just wasn’t straight up, anymore.  He turned on the lamp by the couch.  Then I saw him naked with the light on.  His pubes were blonde, like a real, real light brown.  His dick was kind of red, but I wasn’t sure if it was always like that, or if it was because it was hard and we’d been fucking.

“Mom’s on her way up!  We have to get dressed!”

I tried to think.  “In what?  Our costumes?”  Or our regular clothes, or…?

Henry was putting the candy and empty wrappers back on the table.  “No, we’re in for the night.  Put on your sweats or pjs or whatever.  Comfy stuff.  We’re watching TV and eating candy and Doritos, right?”

I ran into the bedroom and found my nightclothes in the top drawer where I’d put them this morning.  It was an easy ‘dress.’  I came back out and Henry had the root beer cups and the Doritos open.  “C’mon, c’mon!  You gotta get dressed, too!”  Henry and his cock ran into our bedroom and reappeared in his blue sweats and the same yellow Nike t-shirt he was wearing before.

We quick-looked around.  Was there anything else here that would give us away that we’d been having sex?  Maybe Henry’s mussy bed covers, but that was in the other room.

We waited for Mom.  She was taking a long time.

“Sit down,” Henry ordered.  We had to look like we’d been here for a while, so we stretched out on the couch.  The movie had some Tall Man stealing dead bodies, and there was this silver ball flying around a funeral place and it had blades that stuck in your head and a screw that drilled in your brain and blood came pouring out.  That was cool.

Finally, Mom and Aunt Marcy walked in.  They both came up to us and hugged us and hugged us and said how much they were sorry.  From what I could put together, both Uncle Ted and Uncle Bill thought that Aunt Frannie or Aunt Trisha were picking us up, but all of them were downstairs.  Aunt Marcy made fun of Uncle Ted, saying in a weird voice, “What we have here… is a failure… to communicate!”

They were both drunk out of their minds.

We showed them our candy haul, and then the Cereal Killer and Crazy Cat Lady costumes we’d made.  Mom and Marcy were all, “Oh, remember?  We used to make our own costumes!”  We told them that Mr. Thomas and Miss Carrie were very nice to us, and we had dinner at a soul food place, but got caught in the rain, so came back and dried off and ate garbage and watched scary movies.

Marcy was all impressed that we’d made a Halloween for ourselves even without going to the north side.  Mom was starting to snack on the box of Apple Jacks that Henry had speared.  Marcy thought that was a good idea and took the Corn Pops.  Then they were just standing there, eating dry cereal.  And looking at our candy.

“You guys can go back to the bar, now, if you want…” Henry told them.  “We’re fine, here.”

“Do you want to come down?  See everybody?  They have sodas there, too,” Aunt Marcy offered.

“No,” Henry said.  “We’ll see everyone tomorrow.  We’re a little tired.  We did a lot of walking.  We’ll probably go to bed like right after you leave.”  Henry looked at me, then, and I swore he winked at me, but it might’ve just been the light.

Aunt Marcy apologized again, and Mom told us she wouldn’t be long, but we promised we’d probably be asleep when she got back.  She made sure she had her key and they went back downstairs.

Henry and I collapsed on the couch, my head on his shoulder, his arm around me, just like before, except not in our robes.  The robes were still right there, and might have needed some explanation, but not when Mom had been drinking.

Henry ate a Reese’s.  “Energy,” he explained.  I had a Kit Kat.  Then he cleaned up the empty wrappers and threw away the root beer cups.  I put our candy in a Walgreens bag and put it safe in our room, along with our robes.  We took a couple extra minutes to clean up our markers and scraps and things from costume construction.  Finally, Henry turned on Mom’s bedroom light, shut off the lamp by the couch, and shut off the TV.

He held out his hand.  “You want to go back to bed with me?”

I took his hand and we walked into our bedroom.  I had to use the washroom, first, though, and just kept walking while Henry closed and locked our door.  When I came back out, I was naked hoping he would be, too, and he was.  He’d found that the alarm clock on his bedside was a radio, too, and he’d found a good station, so played it quietly.  The covers on my bed were messed up and the pillow all punched.  That was new, too; I didn’t remember leaving my bed like that.  Then I realized it was Henry’s smart thinking, because I wasn’t going to leave Henry’s bed until the morning, if I didn’t have to.

At the window, we could see that the storm was moving off, the lightning was more distant. Henry walked back to the bed, but turned on the bedside light.  I turned to see why; I wouldn’t have thought he’d want the light on.  He was staring at me, gazing at me.  “I need to see you.  Like, in color,” he said.

I came closer to him, between the beds and watched him watch me.  He was noting the pinky color of my nipples and the golden hue of my pubes.  He was nodding so slightly, he had a look of ‘I knew it’ on him.

I stopped him from getting into bed.  I purposely placed my hands on his chest.  “I have to do this…” I whispered.  I didn’t have to whisper as we were alone, that’s just how it came out.  He stood for me.

I just let my hands move along his body with weight, no light touch, slaloming over his chest, up to his shoulders, along his sides, back to his neck, his cheeks, and then his strong arms and his armpits, back down to his abs and waist.  He let me, with his eyes closed.

“I have to do this.  Touch you.  All of you.  Finally.  No secret feels like at the water park or touching legs on the couch.”  I wrapped my hands, as much as I could with my smaller hands compared to his body, around his thighs and down to his knees and calves, across his feet and toes, then up his backside to his butt and his back.  I had purposely avoided his cock until I was behind him.  “All this time, I’ve just wanted to feel… to touch… every part of you, Henry.”

I pressed my breasts against his back, my legs to his legs, and reached around and began to jerk his cock, slow and smooth.

“Oh… Katie—!” he breathed out in a weird voice that got caught in his throat.  His arms shot out to the side and he tried to touch me, to hold me, backwards.  I let him as much as he could without interrupting my efforts.

I let my left hand roam — from his butt, to his chest, to combing through his pubes, to holding his balls, which he seemed to like best.

You like this, Henry?” I asked in a deep voice, trying to sound all sexy.

Yes…” he hissed.  “Faster… please…

I took his advice and he started to falter, his knees bending and his legs giving out, and pushing himself back up, his breathing getting quicker.  Good.

I want to see you cum, Henry,” I demanded.  I swear, his cock was sweating.  And inflating.  I kept pumping him, getting faster, bottom of his shaft to the top, but I found he liked it better with short strokes right by his cock head.

Oh, Katie…

Are you going to cum for me?

Yes!

When are you…” I was in the middle of saying when his whole body tensed up — every muscle from head to foot locked up in a whole-body clench.  His hands found the sides of my ass and pressed me to him.  I moved my legs back to support us both.  And then I looked around side his body, determined to see what I’d wanted.

He made a noise like, “Gahhhh…!” and his cum shot out of him and across the bed’s comforter.  I couldn’t hold back a gleeful squeal!  His second shot actually flew further and I swear it cleared the bed.  The third was as powerful as the first and it, too, painted the comforter.  So did the next four, but they didn’t go as far, and there was less of it.  After that, they mostly fell to the carpet or on my hand.  My brother shot eleven times, in all, by my count, including the small ones.  I slowed down my stroke, but I didn’t want to stop. 

I wound up stopping, though, because he’d lost all control in support and the two of us wound up collapsing backwards onto my bed.  Henry’s hands found my breasts.

We let a song play and end.  “That was intense…” Henry breathed.

“That was a lot of cum!” I snickered.  “Did you put that much in me before?”

Henry considered.  “Probably.”

“You might have to marry me.”  I brought my fist up to my mouth, and cautiously licked the back of my hand.  Henry watched me, fascinated, but didn’t ask.  It was… okay.  Not bad, kinda plain.  I’d have to try it again, hot from the source.

“Those first couple shots went, like, over the bed!” I recalled.

“I can hit the poster over my bed, at least with the first shot or two,” he bragged, but then got quieter, “If I haven’t, like… done… anything for a day.”  He didn’t have to be embarrassed.  What girl doesn’t know her brother jerks off?  I just never spied on him.

“Is that what happened to Livvy Dunne?” I asked about the pretty gymnast poster in his room.  “I thought you and Johnny just opened a shook-up Coke.”

“You and Mom are welcome to keep believing that,” he laughed.  “I’ll take her down, if you want.”

“No, don’t do that.”  I thought about his bedroom.  “Bet you can’t hit your Jaguar poster.”  His current cool car dream.

“No way would I shoot that!  She’s prettier than Livvy!  Livvy will get old, but I’ll take care of my car when…”

Henry got deep in thought.  He rolled over and kissed me, and kept doing so.  Then he surprised me by picking me up and bringing me back to his bed, laying me down.  “I’ll take care of you, Katie.”  He climbed on the bed and sat on his heels in front of me.

He moved up on his knees and caressed my breasts, though he was staring at my pussy.  His hands moved down along my sides to my waist.  “Katie, you are beautiful.  I mean that.  And I don’t just mean beautiful because you’re naked.  That is, I know you are beautiful naked, but I mean, like…  Katie, you’re just the prettiest girl I know, and I’m lucky enough to get to see you every day.”

“Henry…” I whispered.  I wanted to tell him how hot I thought he was, but didn’t want to copy his mood.  I’d tell him when the next chance came.  I wanted to touch his face, but he was too far away, so I just ran my hand down his arm to his hand.

He gently brought his hands to the insides of my thighs and opened my legs.  “I want to try this,” he said, then lowered himself down toward my pussy.

He hesitated, I could feel, as he tried to figure out all my bits down there.  Other than porn on his phone, it was probably his first live pussy, too, like me with his cock.  He touched his tongue to my entrance then moved up.  I could feel his tongue was flat, and I thought of a dog lapping.  I didn’t want to insult him as he learned, but I put my fingers down hear his mouth, showing him quietly that I liked to stroke my lips, and then pointedly circled my little clit.

He had watched, and when his tongue touched me again, I knew he didn’t take offense.  He took instruction well, like I probably will when I try giving him my first blowjob, sometime.  Tonight?  Tomorrow?

Henry was sliding his tongue up and down my labia, but when he got to my clit, it was like an electric shock!  Though I felt him probing for the right spot, when he circled it, both he and I could feel her getting stiff and popping out from her hood.  “Oh, Henry… yes!  Yes, rightthere rightthere!”  I was rolling my hips, helping give him a little motion, helping direct him off my clit to my lips or hole, knowing he’d make his way back to my clit, now that he knew about it.  And he did.

Ffffuck, Henry… yes, yes, yes…”  I could feel him react to my saying ‘fuck.’  I guess I didn’t really swear that much, or at least didn’t drop the F bomb, too much.

I was trying to just let my mind concentrate on the feeling, but my mind wandered with images of Henry on top of me before, fucking me, kissing me, his naked body, me touching his naked body, jerking him off, his cum spraying, the feel of his cum shooting inside me, and now his tongue…  and seeing his naked butt when he changed into a costume!  I’m not sure why, but that single image was sending me over the edge!

Henry!  Don’t stop!  Don’t stop… I’m… oh gah…”  I had been running my fingers through his hair, but now I latched onto it, gripping whatever lock was in my hand, keeping him in place.  I didn’t mean to trap him, but I clamped my thighs together, probably smothering him, but I had to.  I had to!

Henry!  Hen— h…. h…!”  And I shook as I exploded.  The only single feeling I was conscious of was my feet pushing into his ass, my toes clenching trying to grab it.  I’d been close to cumming when fucking Henry earlier, but now, oh…  This was so much better than doing it myself!

When I finally released my brother, he didn’t waste any time talking about how much fluid I’d cummed into his mouth and over his chin.  He just rose up and stretched over me and shut off the light.  Then he fed his arms around me as I kissed him twenty times in thanks for that wonderful, wonderful orgasm.

I could feel his hard, hard cock down below, and this time it had no trouble finding my entrance and making its way inside me.  And my brother fucked me.  He had to.  I wanted him to.

I didn’t time it, or count the number of songs, but we lasted longer than our first time, that’s for sure.

He was pounding me, breathing like an animal.  I could hear quiet words in his breath.  “Katie… can’t believe… fuck… I’m fuck…”

You’re fucking me,” I helped.

His eyes shot open.  “I’m fucking you.  I can’t believe I’m really fucking you, Katie.”

“Keep fucking me.”

My hands on his butt, helping push him inside me, I tried to speed up his thrusts.  He was only too happy to do so.

“Katie…”

“Harder, Henry… fuck me harder…”

That unleashed a monster!  But fuck, it was feeling better and better!  Even more so because it was a boy I loved fucking me.  My brother.  My brother was fucking me.

That set me off — the speed, the slamming into my pussy, and the knowing who it was that was fucking me… I screamed as quietly as I could while I probably strangled Henry with my arms around his neck, as I quivered and shook again.  “Henry, oh… I’m cumming I’m cumming!…”

It would have been cool if we’d cum at the same time, but Henry needed a little more.  And even though there was so much of my own cum splashing around between us, you better believe it when I felt his cock swell and fill me with his own hot cum.  I was just laying back, basking in my own little aftershocks when the flood came. 

“Katie, I’m cumming… I’m cumming in you again…”

I could feel his body tighten up, again, but I couldn’t hold him, this time.  Not until he collapsed down on top of me.  I put my hand up to his face, and I could feel him clenching his jaw, and then it finally relaxed when he was sure he was done shooting everything he had inside me.

This time, he slid off my right side and he held me tightly, not quite done with his own shocks of lightning.  Yes, the storm had moved off over the lake, but all its lightning had stayed here in our room.

He found my breasts.  They were his favorite, and I was glad.

Four songs later, Henry said, “We don’t live in Arkansas or Mississippi, but, you know, if I have to…”

He made me laugh!  And he joined in, but I knew he was worried.

“I don’t know as much about it all as I could, but I just finished my period on Monday and Tuesday.  I think we’ll be okay,” I soothed him.

“So… we have to wait a month to know for sure?” he asked.  He held my hand.

“Pretty much.”

Henry shut off the radio.  “So, do you not want to…?”

“Are you kidding?” I had to turn his face to me.  “We’ve got this locked bedroom until we go home on Monday morning.  We got tomorrow morning, we can leave the wedding reception early tomorrow night, we’ve got all Sunday morning while Mom and Dad are doing their own snuggling, Sunday night…  I want my naked Henry to make love to me morning, noon, and night!”

He smiled.  I could feel his face against mine, even in the dark.  “And when we get home…”

“Every chance we get.”

My brother kissed me until we fell asleep, naked in each other’s arms, in his bed.

* * *

There was noise coming from the outer room.  People talking.  People laughing.

We’d both woken up, but didn’t want to acknowledge the adults, hoping they’d all leave soon.

Henry pulled himself out of bed and used the washroom.  Then he walked naked to the window.  “Hey, Katie, check this out…” 

I didn’t want to get out of our bed — I didn’t want him to get out of our bed, but now I had to see, I suppose.  I slid over and walked to the window.  I looked out, but Henry pointed me down to the street level at two police cars parked in front of our hotel, blue and red lights flashing.

“It’s the city.  Stuff happens,” I shrugged.  I mean, we couldn’t tell why they were here from up in our room, now could we?

“Yeah, sure,” Henry nodded.  “But don’t you see?  Now, with the cop cars… I can tell…  This is the place that Indiana Jones… the hotel that, um, Harrison Ford was at when he was the doctor?  Beating up the one-armed guy on the train, and then goes into the hotel — this hotel — and goes after his friend?  This is the place!”

I nodded sleepily.  I was about to go back into bed when I turned to him.  “You think they’re here because Mom and the others are partying too loud?”  I meant it as a joke, but Henry wondered.  His wheels were turning.

“Get your pjs on.  I’m gonna put a stop to this.”  He put his sweats and his Nike shirt back on.  I used the washroom myself and then put on my nightclothes and switched to my bed.  Henry gave me a sigh, then opened the door.  He stepped out into the light.

“What in the heck is going on out here?” Henry demanded.

I didn’t want to approach the door and look outside, so I can only imagine what the adults’ faces looked like.

“It’s two in the morning.  You people have to be in a wedding tomorrow!” he continued.  What they must have thought of him, addressing them barefoot in his pj sweats!

Mom was saying something back to him, but it wasn’t yelling at him for speaking to her in such a manner.  I could hear one of my uncles laughing, I think Uncle Bill.

“And why do you have the window open…?”  I could tell he went further into the room.  I could see people moving, now, but still didn’t want to go out there.

“Oh, my God!  What are you…?  Oh, Jesus!  You know the cops are down there, right?  We can see two cop cars in front from our window!”

Mom and Uncle Ted came into my bedroom to look out our window.  When Mom noticed I was sitting up, she came over and gave me a bunch of ‘Oh, Sweetie, we’re sorry for waking you,’ and other crap.  I had to say, “Um, please, we’re trying to sleep here?” and I pointed at the doorway well-lit from the other side.  My uncle left and Mom kissed my head and waved at me with a look on her face like she was pretend-sad.

“Gimme these.  All of them.  No, all of them!” Henry said about something.

“This is why we got the suite, huh?  So you all could party up here into the night after the bar downstairs closed down?  Is this going to happen tomorrow night, after the wedding, too?  Just you wait until my father gets here in the morning.  Why I ought’a…”

There was some chatter about cleaning up and going on home.

“We’re trying to get some sleep, and you should, too.  At least Aunt Marcy’s not here… she’s the only smart one.”

I heard the words taxi and Uber mentioned several times as Henry walked back into our room with the room’s ice bucket full of purple water balloons which he put on our washroom counter.  He gave me a silent look of ‘you wouldn’t believe this’ and just shook his head.

He went back out and said a couple kind-of-sarcastic good nights.  And lights were being turned off.  Then the funniest thing: “Alright, woman, go to your room and get to bed.  We’ll talk in the morning.”  Then I guess he had an afterthought.  “Do you need any help?  From Katie?  Okay.  Good night.”

Henry came in and asked me to help Mom undo her dress.  I won’t recount that here.  Let’s just say I put my mom to bed.

Henry had popped all the water balloons, but did not throw away the remnants, just poured out the water.  I gave him a puzzled look.

“They were throwing them at cars,” Henry said with disgust.  “Tomorrow, after breakfast when the maids open all the doors to the rooms they’re working on?  I’m gonna sneak into gorilla-guy’s room and put these remains by his window and in his trash.”

I love my brother.

“Is she down for the night?” he asked me.

“She’ll be out until lunchtime,” I said.

“Dad’s train pulls in sometime around 6:00am.  We’ll have to let him in when he gets here.”

“Joy.”

We closed and locked the door, pulled off our clothes, and crawled back into our bed.

“Come here, doll-face…”

I fucked my brother one more time before we fell back asleep.

The End

Copyright 2025 – Tommy Linarcos
All rights reserved

10

My Brother Saves Halloween – Part 3 Read More »

My Brother Saves Halloween – Part 2

My Brother Saves Halloween – Part 2
By
Tommy Linarcos

Henry shut off the lamp so we could see the storm over the lake, better.  It was night out, and the city had lot of lights so the clouds were well-lit from below.  And with the big park between our hotel and the lake, we had a pretty good view.  Lots of lightning flashes!  We were just sittin’ there, us all lit up by the blue light of the TV, and I let my head roll over onto Henry’s shoulder.

Henry put his arm around me.  “Well, doll-face, we had us an adventure.”

“I guess we did.”  I tried to think if gorilla-guy made fun of Henry, he called him some letters, but I couldn’t remember, so I didn’t come up with a funny name for him.  Nah, he’s just my Henry.  And now I was ‘doll-face,’ but I liked when Henry said it.

When Henry stretched his arm around me, it opened up the wrap in his robe.  Neither of us had these things on tight, and the belts were loose.  I could see Henry’s chest and belly in the separation, and a little lower.  Now, I knew I didn’t have any bra or panties on, but it occurred to me again that Henry didn’t have anything on under the robe, either.

I was trying to use my psychic powers to make his robe fall more open.  C’mon… just a little more… move your leg a bit so it can…  But we were both too still.  I brought my hand over to give my brother a hug.  “Thank you for taking care of me, Henry.  Giving me a Halloween.”

“Heck, I didn’t take much care of you.  Just… took charge to get us out there for tricks-n-treats,” he shrugged.

I started running my hand up and down the terrycloth.  “You held my hand the entire time.”  I let my hand slip off the edge onto his skin.  I was running my fingertips from his chest down to his belly button, real slow.

“That’s what a brother does.”  Henry moved his legs a bit, like he was gettin’ uncomfortable, and uncrossed his feet on the table.

Then, with the hand on my shoulder, he started running his fingers through my damp hair.  He caught a little snag, but I didn’t care.  I didn’t care at all.

“You kissed me,” I said.  Just matter-of-fact, not an accusation.

“Yeah, I did,” Henry said.  He felt very still, like he was nervous or scared.

“That was my first kiss,” I admitted.  Heck, he probably knew it, too.  In 6th Grade, you don’t do a lot of kissing.

“If you want it to be,” he said, still looking straight ahead out the window.  “I’m your brother, so it don’t have to count, you know?”

“Oh, it counts…” I said softly into his collar.  My fingers went below his belly button this time until they hit the loose terrycloth belt and found some hair.  I’d seen this, but those other times it just went under his shorts.  Now, it was leading somewhere…

“I’m sorry,” Henry said, turning to look at me, so I turned my face up to his.  “You were in that dress, and you just looked so dang beautiful.  I mean that.  Your hair, your eyes were shiny, you were like a willow, I don’t know… all curvy.  You just looked so… happy… I just had to kiss you.  I’m sorry.”

“I’m not sorry.  I kissed you back, you know,” I said.

“Yeah.  You did.”

Probably too much time passed, then, us looking at each other, but I took a chance.  “Can I have a second kiss, now?”

I could hear my brother take a breath and then his lips were on mine.  Again.  Only this time, he wasn’t kissing a surprised closed mouth; I was kissing him before he was kissing me.

He turned in toward me, his hand coming over to hold me when my hand went under the belt and I bumped into… it.  Yes, his hair trail led to where I knew it would, only his dick was a lot closer to where my hand was than I thought it would be.  It broke our kiss.  “Is that…?” I asked Henry’s eyes.

“You know it is,” Henry breathed.

I had automatically pulled my hand away when I hit it, but Henry untwisted the belt, took my hand, brought it down, and put it right back on his dick.  All the way on it.  And for some reason, my hand automatically wrapped itself around his shaft.  He closed his eyes and breathed in, just like if he’d slammed his foot into the doorframe or got a cut.  I didn’t think my touching his dick hurt, but I kind of understood that the feeling would be intense, like if he touched my pussy I’d probably breathe the same way.

I got the feeling that it would not be an ‘if’ but a ‘when.’  I knew it.  I hoped it.

I was holding my brother’s dick.  It was hot.  And it was hard.  Soft, but hard.  And it was big.  I know I didn’t have anything to compare it to, this being my first time holding a dick and all, but it felt big to me.

Henry groaned and turned back to me and started kissing me, again.  And you better believe I was kissing him back.  And then, finally, his hand slipped under my robe and was feeling my boob.  My breast.  His hand was all over my skin, cupping my breast, his fingers swirling around my nipple and pulling on it.

I was in a sensory overload.  A wonderful one!  My head was like zip-zap inside, trying to figure out what I was feeling from the kiss, and what I was feeling in my hand, and what was going on while Henry felt my body and…  And what I was feeling inside all over, about Henry, about kissing, about the heat that was starting to churn in me down below, about maybe going further.

But it wasn’t confusion.  I knew what was going on.  It was just all going on at once.  I wanted to kiss my brother.  I wanted to feel my brother.  I wanted my brother to feel me.

I wanted my brother.

I always have, I guess.  He’s been my hero since I was a baby.  I mean, my daddy was, too, but Henry was my size, always there with me.  We explored the fields together and sometimes made friends together, sometimes we fought or argued, but he always looked out for me.  Always held my hand.  It’s no wonder I adored him.

As I watched him grow up, watched him get tan in the sun, watched his body change, watched him suddenly get taller, watched his shoulders get bigger, watched his chest get some muscle, watched his belly get flat, watched whatever was in his shorts get to lookin’ like it was lookin’, watched his hair go from whatever was on his head to having a cute cut, his face to just… having that smile…  I don’t know what I was going to say, I just wanted my brother to be doing what he was doing to me right then!

Henry needed me to do more, though.  He let go of my breast and threw off one whole side of his robe, took his arm out and put his hand on top of mine, and showed me how to stroke his dick.  “Please…” he breathed.  It wasn’t hard to figure out and he let me go solo.

Then he was all about getting my robe off.  My brother wanted me naked as much as I wanted him naked.  Only, while he undid my belt and tried to push off my robe, I had to stop stroking him in order to pull my arm out.  And we were kicking candy off the table.  But once my left side was free, then both of us had our close-in arms still in the robes.

Henry pulled back, not quite sitting up.  He wanted to see me.  His eyes were glued to my breasts.  I wasn’t nervous to let him see me.  Heck all, I wanted him to peek at me while we were getting changed into costumes and getting dry from the rain.  I liked my boobs.  My breasts.  They weren’t huge, but they were pretty good for what I see of my friends’ breasts.  I was pretty well proud of them.

He was trying to take me all in.  I could tell his eyes were down at my pussy, then, but I was turned away from the TV and he couldn’t see me real well.  His hands traveled over my body — oh, yes, they did! — and he tried to push me flat and feel my pussy, but it wasn’t working real well on this little couch unless I scooted forward but with the little table in front…  I could see by his eyes, lit up by the blue and red screen on the TV, that he was getting frustrated.  And I couldn’t even stroke him too well, at that point.

Henry stood up and threw off his robe.  And I could see my entirely naked brother.  Finally.  (Finally, for two years of wanting!)  I could see my brother’s dick.  His hard, pointing straight up, big, hairy dick.  It didn’t have a lot of hair, honestly, not like all over, but it was a nice bush of light brown pubes above his dick.  I thought they were light brown — that was my guess in the TV light, anyway, until I could see them in real light.  But I could still tell, here at the end of October with his tan faded, where he used to be tan and where he wasn’t, that swimsuit area lighter than the rest of him, even in the TV light.  For that second, I was able to look him up and down, all in one view.  My totally naked brother.

He stood me up, then, gently — gentle even in his need to do this, and finished taking off my robe.  Now I was completely naked for him.  I helped him out, though, taking his hands and making us trade places, with the light from the TV on me, then.  And like before, I watched his eyes look me over.  I guess he wanted to see me naked as much as I wanted to see him.  How long would he have wanted that?  Since he was twelve, like me?  Or once my body started to change?  I’ve been curious about him since I was ten.  But that didn’t matter at all, anymore, because right then, we were naked together.

Henry started breathing easier, though his dick was still hard and pointing at me and the ceiling.  Something came to his mind and he took my hand.  “Come on,” he said, and walked me into our bedroom, to the first bed, his bed.  “Okay?”  He didn’t push me; he asked me.

“Oh, yes,” I answered and climbed on the bed.  Henry left the door open so we could still hear the music, but we didn’t have the light of the TV on us, anymore.  We hadn’t closed the curtains, but it was dark in our room, so now we had a night-gray view of just the lake and all the clouds and the lightning flashes.  No trees in the way.  It was like being on a boat.  Just me and Henry and the lightning.

My brother lay down next to me and this time we could hold each other right and we got back to kissing.  As much as I wanted to feel his body, and feel his hands on my body, I think the kissing was my favorite part.  I thought it would be weird, when I’d considered it before, like when I was practicing kissing my hand, or me and Jenna kissed, I had to wonder if it would feel weird because he was my brother, like kissing Jenna was weird, at first.  But kissing Jenna became a little fun, and then I knew that because of how much I loved my brother, kissing him would be fun, too.

And then when he kissed me, I proved myself right.  Even more so when we started using our tongues.  At first, I just opened my mouth a little more in a kiss, wondering if this was how it worked.  Henry kind of opened his with me, then we both knew something was missing and, at once, our tongues found each other.  And it was like: wow!  And it wasn’t weird, it was easy.  And it was obviously a turn-on as I actually felt Henry’s dick get harder.

“Stroke my cock.  Please.  Jack my cock…”

So, it was a cock, not a dick.  A cock.  I could do that.  I jacked his cockJohn Hand Cock.  Because he had pubes, I figured he could shoot his stuff, too.  I wanted to see that, but it was too dark, then.  I loved doing it, though.  Suddenly, I wanted to be an expert at it!

And sure enough, I could feel Henry exploring further down me, and I opened my legs for him.  His fingers felt my patch of golden pubes, though he couldn’t see they were golden in the dark, and then he dipped into my flower.

“Oh, wow…”  He shuddered.  My brother actually shuddered.  He was nervous.  I had to think — I wasn’t really nervous, more excited, but I felt that he was excited and kind of nervous.  I held my brother a little tighter than I had been, letting him feel my breasts on his chest.

That actually felt great.  I wanted to do that lots more!  And I found his heart beating really fast!

He found my entrance.  His finger was going inside me.  He was feeling around, examining what it was like inside, and then plunging in and out.  He was going a little too fast, I think, but he didn’t know.  He was as… enthusiastic… as I was, probably, on his cock.

I took that opportunity to explore a little bit more, moving my hand down to his balls and feeling them, finding out what they were all about.  His ball sack was kind of tight, but I could feel his balls move as I massaged them, but didn’t squeeze — I knew that much!

Henry broke our kiss, and I let him because he was moving down to kiss and suck on my breasts, and I loved that!  His tongue and lips were on my chest, finding a path around my breasts.  I thought of the Candyland gameboard, for some reason, don’t ask me why.  But his tongue found the swell of my right breast and then his lips found my nipple, and then he was sucking on me…  “Ooohhhhh…”  I had to let out a moan, I’d wanted to feel that for so…

I was certain I could feel Henry smile while sucking at my breast, the way his lips and cheeks moved, like he knew I was liking it.  I allowed my one hand that had been finding how smooth his body was to now hold his head and run my fingers through his hair.  My other hand was trying to find a decent hold on his cock, again, and Henry changed his position enough to allow me to.

This was sex! I thought to myself.  Or it almost was.  Heck, we were naked in the dark, on a bed, there was some music, I was stroking his cock and he was sucking my tits and playing with my pussy, driving me nuts!  If that’s not sex, then…  But inside of me, I knew there could be more.  I was feeling very warm, the chill from the rain long forgotten.  Warm like… not like the robe, but like… inside me… 

Henry’s finger was still inside me.  I wanted him to psychically know he could explore more of me there, like find my clit, but I didn’t want to tell him.  He was, though, finding out just how wet I am, and…

“Can I fuck you?” he asked me.

That was the magic question, now, wasn’t it?

“I really want to fuck you,” he confessed to me.

“Yes,” I said, maybe too quickly.

I wanted to fuck.  I wanted to know what it feels like.  I wanted to be ‘a woman.’  I wanted my brother.  I wanted my brother to be the one.  I loved my brother.  Who else could it be?  And the way I was feeling right then, if he didn’t fuck me, I was going to fuck him.

I was a little nervous about this, finally.  Henry’s finger was inside me, and I’d had Jenna’s inside me, too and, of course, my own.  And I’d played with the handle of my hairbrush, but this was going to be a real dick.  Henry’s cock.  What I could feel of it in my hand told me this was going to be bigger than any finger or hairbrush.  The first time was supposed to hurt, some, they say.  But just how much?

With my ‘yes,’ Henry changed all his positioning, leaving my pussy and my breasts.  I spread my legs as he got in between them and propped himself over me.  He looked a little uncertain, that’s what I thought I saw in his eyes, anyway, his eyebrows getting scrunched.  Then he looked at me and gave me one more kiss.  I gladly accepted it!  Then he did a thing, taking a breath, like a ‘here goes…’

I looked down our bodies at his cock as it rubbed through my pubes, and then dropped down into my labia, finding center.  He started poking me.  He was using a gentle force, a light prodding, but he was in the wrong place.  I didn’t know if I was supposed to tell him or not.  I mean, he’s the boy, this was his part, right?

Henry’s face showed confusion or frustration when I looked up at him.  When he saw my eyes, he looked away right away, like he was embarrassed that he didn’t get it right.  I didn’t want to say it out loud, and he didn’t want to either, probably, but neither of us knew exactly what to do.  He finally used a hand to guide his cock where he thought he was supposed to go.  I got the guts to use my hand to help him find my entrance.

We both slid his cock head over my hole a couple times and then it went in.  The whole head went in!  And then he stopped.

I looked up to Henry and he looked at me, and we both instantly smiled!  This was the right spot.  It was going to work!  He kissed me again and then started to push in.  He kept his hand there to make sure.

I got the idea of how this was supposed to hurt, then.  I’m sure I’d already broken my hymen a couple months ago, but it was the size of his cock, the… width? that was…  I don’t know what is a normal size for a fourteen-year-old boy, but as far as its entering me, it might as well have been as huge as a grown man’s.  But it was the stretching.  His cock was stretching my insides.  He wasn’t taking it very slowly, either; he wanted to get his cock inside me.  I wanted his cock inside me, too, I just wanted it to go in easier.

I put my hands on his waist, making him pause, then I pushed him back a little, and held him.  I didn’t want him to pop out, I just felt that trying a couple back-and-forths might feel better, moving my wetness.

I was right.

Henry got the idea.  Turns out the in-and-out was natural for boys.  And then… he was… he was… all the way in.  My brother was all the way in.  My brother’s cock was all the way inside me.  I could feel his pubes on my clit as he just kind of floated there.  I opened my eyes and saw his were still closed.  It was dark, but in the faint light I could make out the look on his face.

It was like he couldn’t be happier.

I moved my arms up and wrapped them around him and pulled him down to me, kissing him when he got the idea.  Then I crossed my legs behind him and locked him inside me.

“Henry…” was all I could get out.  He opened his eyes and found mine.  He knew.

“Does it feel okay?” he asked.  “Does it hurt?”

I nodded a little.  “A little.  But keep going.  Let’s do it — slow!”

When I said that, I heard an echo of the word “slow” coming from the sitting room.  It was the TV music.  I realized I was losing my virginity to the song from Suicide Squad!  It was a great song, though — Twenty-One Pilots’ “Heathens”? — and it had a steady beat.  Maybe we could use that.

I corrected my request to Henry.  “…at first.”

“Okay.”  He licked his lips and nodded at me.  He raised back up and drew his cock back out.  I don’t think he wanted to do that, though, because he immediately got about fixing himself and finding my entrance, again.  And then I felt him sliding into me again, only this time his cock was wet, and so were my pussy lips.  I tried to not be nervous, I didn’t want to make my hole tight, but as he slipped further in, I found that I was starting to love that feeling of my pussy grabbing his cock, holding onto it like my hand had when I was stroking him.

Henry was all the way inside me, again, and when he pulled back he didn’t fall out.  He did make a little noise, an “Ohh-ohhh-ohhhh…” that I don’t think I was supposed to hear but he couldn’t help it.  He pushed back in more quickly, and did it all again.  And again.  My brother was fucking me! 

He started grunting as he made it back in me.  Not grunting like an animal, but soft little ones, the air coming out of him when he pushed himself in me.  It was like when you’re play-fighting and you make the noise when the other guy gets hit.  Henry was making his noises of fucking, his ‘Mmm’s and ‘Uh’s.  And he was doing it to the downbeat to the song!

I’d kind of been holding myself back with that, like I was trying to be quiet, like you’re not supposed to make noise doing this.  It was funny that Henry was losing his breath each time he grunted, because he was really knocking my breath out!  The next time he plunged into me with a grunt, I “ooh!”-ed right back at him.

That made him pop open his eyes and he looked right into mine and smiled.  “It’s better?”

“Oh, yeah, Henry,” I told him.  “So much better…!  Keep doing that… keep going….”

Henry didn’t close his eyes now, he kept looking at mine.  Then he started going faster, his soft grunts turning into one long groan.  My oohs turned into a whimper, just one long word, as high a voice as when I open a birthday present and like what’s inside.  And I really liked what was going on inside me!

This was feeling good!  I kinda knew I might be a little sore tomorrow, but this was feeling better and better.  And I was getting wetter and wetter.  This was why people liked fucking, I now knew. 

Henry was fucking me.  My brother was fucking me and I was loving it!

I was going to try to tell Henry all about it, somehow, when he dropped down and started holding me tight.  Real tight.  “Oh, Katie…!  I’m…  Ka-”  Then he went all stiff, except for his left leg — his left leg was shaking.  I remember that.  He stopped thrusting and I felt his cock swell up a little more inside me and then I felt it kick!  And suddenly, there was more wetness and warmth inside me than there was before.  His cock kicked again, and I knew he was shooting his stuff in me.  His cum.  I could feel it.  I could feel his cum.  The music crashed from its bridge and got intense, as if Henry had timed it!  He started fucking again, just a little in-and-out, but I could feel him still cumming in me.

I wrapped my arms around him, held him to me.  Me and Henry.  I slowly stroked his back while the song played out.  We were fine.  We didn’t move.  He was on top of me and still inside me.  We were fine.

The song on the TV changed twice before we moved.  I don’t remember what those ones were.  We were breathing easier.  Henry didn’t move off of me, but he did raise up, again.  He was still inside me.  I don’t think he wanted to come out of me.

“Katie… we…”

“Yeah.”

“Was it…?  Are you… alright?”

“Yeah.  Did you like it?” I asked him with a little smile.

“Oh, heck, yeah!” he grinned back.  “That was the greatest thing ever!”  He turned that into a kind of worried expression.  “Did you like it?”

“Mm-hmm…  I loved it.”  I kept stroking his back, and then his hair.

“Did you… cum… like me?”

I was honest.  “Almost.  I was getting there.  I could feel it coming on, but…”

“I’m sorry.  Katie, I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean for it to be so fast.  It just felt… and then I…”

“It’s okay.  Henry, it’s okay,” I soothed.  “It was our first time.  For both of us, it was just our first time, so…”

Something clicked in my brother’s mind.  “Our first time?”

Then it clicked, what I’d said.  “Our first time.”

“Just our first time, huh?”

“Yeah, just our first time.”

Henry started fucking me, again.  I guess he’d never really gone soft — his cock, I mean.  And it was still inside me.  He was just looking at me, and I was looking at him, both of us with goofy smiles on our faces, and we started fucking again.

And that’s when the phone rang.

End of Part two

Copyright 2025 – Tommy Linarcos
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