Learning the Ropes from my Brother...

Posted by: Author: Age: 46 Posted on: 4 comments
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Disco wasn't the only thing going on in the 70's.

 

This story takes place in the 1970's. Let me start off saying that I knew from around the age of 8 or 9 that I was gay. I've never ever found girls sexually attractive to the point of wanting to have sex with them. My brother Ed was seven years older than me. He was a great athlete and was always in sports, baseball, basketball and football. He was everything I wasn't. Where as I was blonde, green eyed, fair complexion and on the chubby side, he was handsome, dark haired, tan, blue eyed and muscular.

We shared a bedroom that consisted of twin beds side by side with a small night stand in-between. There was maybe three feet between our beds, so trust me this was a front row seat to the show. I remember waking up one morning and noticed that there was a washcloth and a bottle of lotion sitting on the nightstand that wasn't there before we went to bed. I knew something was UP. So that night I "fake" went to sleep before Ed came to the room to sleep. Our bedroom was dark other than light from the night sky pouring in from the windows. I squinted my eyes open and watched what became his nightly ritual. He would come in, strip to his underwear (briefs) and climb into bed and pull the covers up. He'd lay there thinking he gave me enough time to be fast asleep. Then he'd slide down his underwear and lower the covers past his crotch exposing his fully erect cock.

Let me just say it was beautiful. I come from a well blessed family of fat cocked men. Anyway, he would then squirt some of my mom's "Rose Milk Lotion" on his cock, that smell even today gets me rock hard. The smacking sound of lotion on a cock gets me there as well. I would lay there motionless as he would bring himself closer and closer to orgasm. If I ever stirred he would stop and wait until he thought I was back asleep. My dick would be so hard watching him. I would play with my cock under the covers, matching my bro stroke for stroke. I couldn't come, yet I had already discovered that rubbing it when it was hard felt good. I could hear his slight groans of pleasure as he inched closer and closer to blowing his load. Then it happened, white globs of cream pouring out of his piss slit as his body stiffened in ecstasy. Then he would grab the washcloth clean-up his cock and fall fast asleep. That washcloth got pretty crusty before it made its way to the laundry bin. I used to smell his underwear, rub it on my hard dick and jack off into them in later years. As I got older I got more brave about masturbating but he never saw me do it. I can still recall those memories and blow a nice load thinking about what could have been. I would have been my bro's sex slave in a hot minute.

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