Many years ago when I was living in Minneapolis, I met a really hot chick named Cara. She was a Vikings cheerleader and worked in a major department store. We started going out a lot. But every time I tried to do more than just make out with her, she held back. She finally invited me back to her place. She lived in a big mansion on Lake Minnetonka that was owned by 2 gay guys. We went there after work one night so I could meet her roomies. They were both fairly big guys. Craig owned an exclusive health spa and Derek was a former college football player that dabbled in art. We talked and drank and even did some coke. The night was progressing and I was hoping these guys could leave so I could finally seal the deal with Cara. She left for a long while and when she returned she was dressed in a skimpy Victoria"s Secret outfit. Now, I was really getting horny. We partied some more and she finally told me what the deal was. She said I had to let Craig and Derek have their way with me before I could fuck her. That was their living arrangement. Now I had never been with a guy before, let alone 2 guys and I hadn't planned on it! The guys were cool but ogling me up and down. She left and they took me to their Master suite. It was huge and something out of a magazine. They took my clothes off and we went into the shower. They scrubbed me from head to toe, shampoo, conditioner and everything. We got out and went to the huge bed. I was scared to death. My legs were shaking and I told them I'd never been with a man before. They said nothing. Derek laid me on the bed belly down and started to tongue my asshole. Craig walked around and shoved his huge cock into my mouth! Derek shifted to lubing me up and fingering me. Craig was face-fucking me. Derek shoved a small dildo into my virgin ass and started pumping me. Craig was not letting up. Except for some grunting and groaning there was no talk!. Derek pulled out the dildo and shoved his meat inside of me. He felt huge, and he was! They were spit-roasting me as I've come to learn. At some point they switched. Now Derek shoved his monster in my mouth and I tasted for the first time a mix of sweat, lube, pre-cum, and my own ass, and Craig stretched my ass out some more. They were fucking me at a furious face and Craig blasted in my ass and Derek blew in my mouth. When I looked up Cara was frigging herself on a chair in the corner. We were all laying on the bed and Craig said "Rest. It's going to be a long night" I'll tell the rest of the story at another time.
I didn't share this to excite. I didn't share this to draw any ire or to induce bad feelings about incest. I shared it because this was a part of my evolution as a bisexual male. I shared it because I have no shame about it and I often find it to be... ironically funny that, again, this was the only way we could get along with each other and even "funnier" because he knew it just as well as I did. We did talk seriously about stopping it. We're grown. If we didn't know better before (and we did), we do now. We should be able to find another way to be brothers and get along with each other. We said that this time would be the last time and, yeah, nope, it wasn't. So much for that. The hurt and very odd pleasure hearing him say that the only thing he really liked about me was... I could fuck his brains out and way better than any other dude could... and me having to come to terms with feeling the same way about him. I shared it to bring into the light a truth that's... a truth. Brothers can and do have sex with each other. Usually in the younger years and comes to a halt at some point. Doesn't usually keep going past this point but it can. That's it's still sex with a man is very much at the root of this and, well, I am very bisexual and accepting the truth that as fucked up as it may sound to you, my brother was a guy who I loved to have sex with even though, in the beginning, I didn't want to. I learned the truth of things. I accepted it. The only shame I had was not being able to save his life. Otherwise? No shame about what we did to and for each other because if nothing else, we were both very bisexual men and I know that us having sex played a major role in him being able to accept that he was bisexual and I know this because he told me and in one of those rare moment when we were being totally honest with each other and that usually went like, "You know I can't stand you, right? Are we gonna do this? What are you waiting for?" Some truths are both good and bad and this part of my life is proof of that. And I'm good with it and if this is the best memories I have of him, I'm glad to have them.
"Man... I really needed this," he says as he pulls out of me and flops over onto his back. "You couldn't have needed it that bad if it took you so long since the last time," I said. "Yeah, I know, but, shit, you know how it can be, right?" he asks with a sigh - and I do know how it can be but I still feel that... warmth because he did come over and when it was possible for him to do so. I'm still pissed about a lot of shit at this point but decide to try and sort it out later because now - and by rote - we're both thinking if we can go at it again and if things are still the way they have been, we're both... satisfied. "You wanna go again?" he asks - and on cue. "I don't mind if you want to," I say - and on cue. "Nah, I'm good," he says and I say that I am, too. I also know that we're just not saying it because I remembered that one time we talked about how we could have sex with each other and just satisfy the hell out of each other without a need to go for a second round - and agreeing that we've been doing this for so long that we just know how to satisfy each other and, yeah, better than other guys could. And this time is no different. We hit the bathroom to get cleaned up - and he makes the expected comment about how he doesn't understand how we can have the same father but my dick is bigger than his and I respond the way I have always responded: I shrugged. Yeah, I know why because I figured it out way back in biology class and when we studied genetics... but I wasn't going to even try to explain that to him. All cleaned up and we get dressed and go back downstairs and we take a moment to look each other in the eyes and he says, "Well, I gotta book and take care of some shit." And he just leaves. No "thank you" or anything like that. And I'm okay with it because there is no need for us to be all... mushy with each other and talking about loving each other when we both knew that we didn't... but we did love having sex with each other and thought, as I closed and locked the door behind him, that I probably wouldn't figure out why we were like this. And, today, two days before he would have been 64, I still don't know, and I've had a lot of time to think about this. I still think that it's weird that incest brought us together in a way that being brothers, ultimately - and because of some shit involving our mother tossing our father out - failed to do. I understood that this was the only way we could really... connect with each other and even a backhanded kind of way to express love for each other even though neither of us would ever say that we loved each other and, yeah, if someone asked me if I loved him, I'd get a look on my face that spoke more than whatever I might try to say about how I really felt about him. I didn't like feeling the way I did about him but it was what it was and more so when I understood a truth: If we didn't have anything more than having the same parents, we had this and it was the one thing we had in common on top of both of us being bisexual. You'd think that this would break through our shared animosity but, nope, not until I would, some day or the other, hear him knocking on my door and I know why he is. Even if there is something going wrong for him and he does need my help - and help that I'm not really of a mind to provide but he is my brother and if I can help him, I will - and even if he doesn't really appreciate it but facing the truth that he does appreciate us having sex even when it was something that we both should have given up once we were both adults - and adults who knew better. And... we didn't. I think that we couldn't because it was the only thing that made us feel like brothers. I don't know. He's a long-time dead and that's another story. I do wonder that if he were still alive, would we still have sex with each other because it was the only way we could get along... and I don't know that, either. It just was what it was. One of those landmark moments as a bisexual, both young and older. And knowing some truths that does make people feel some kind of way but a truth nonetheless.
I'm thrusting into him and I'm thinking about the time our mother caught us and her voice telling me that I'm old enough to know better is echoing in my mind because since I am the oldest, I do know better; it knew it then and I sure as fuck know it now and... I didn't care then or now. I long since got right with the fact that if this is the only way we can get along with each other, it's better than nothing. I'm gonna cum and he knows it and because of the way I just said, "Shit..." and I... giggle inside my head because I've said this word in the exact same way every time I was about to cum and it speaks to how... normal this is for me. I give in to it; he's fucking back against me and clenching his hole and making me cum harder and, damn him for knowing how to make me feel this way. I pull out of him and I hear him say, "Damn - you still got it!" And I laugh for a moment. He rolls over onto his back and I go back down on him until he's hard enough to get it in me and I want him in me. I lube us up and lie on my stomach - and the way we have always fucked each other and almost laughing aloud to think that we never tried any other position. He mounts me and I feel his knob pressing against my hole and it's like my body knows it's him and admits him easily and I sigh and think about what he said about our dicks being made for each other. The same old "irritation" to know that I'm the oldest and he's next to last in age and of the four of us and... he's fucking me really good but that makes sense given how many times he's fucked me before. It's... nasty and in the worst moral way possible and I don't really give a fuck about that even though something inside of me still insists that I should. And just as I have before, I ignore it because he is screwing me nicely and like no one else can. The truth hurts but it can feel good, too. It's so comfortable and familiar to be lying under him and feeling him moving in and out of me; I know him so well that I even know that it's going to take almost exactly six minutes inside me before he cums and in my head, the clock is running. This time, however, it takes a whole ten minutes before I feel his dick swell in my ass, he says, "Motherfucker! I hate it when you do this to me!" and he's cumming. Filling my ass with cum - and cum that comes from the same source as the cum I put into his ass and that makes this so... dirty, nasty, and very damned good. It's always been this good with him. I'm... pissed. Because it's over. Because there's no telling when we will do this again. Because we're going to go right back to hating each other and like what we've just done never happened. Damn it all to hell.
In the time it took to head up to my bedroom, I'm thinking way back to the beginning of this and how he pressured me into having sex with him by constantly asking and begging for us to do it - but he never threatened to tell our parents about what he knew I was doing with other boys. And... I caved into the pressure... and just like I'd done ever since. Feeling a bit of anger with myself because while my mind isn't happy to see him, my body is and my dick is already hard before I even get undressed. His demeanor has instantly gone from his usual snarky, asshole-ish vein to being serious. We're out of our clothes and he cups my balls and says to my dick, "I've missed you..." and kneels down to start sucking me. It feels good because he knows my dick very well; I'm... not happy for some reason but it doesn't stop me from taking a few moment to fuck his mouth before getting us on the bed so we can 69. I know his dick very well, too; I know how he loves to be sucked and it's all automatic to me - but I realize that I'm pissed off because it's been almost three years since the last time we did this and the moment when I finally had to admit that I missed seeing him for this every few weeks or so before his vanishing act. Our routine is the same as it has been for the longest time. We suck each other off and just like every time we've done it, I know it's evil and unholy but I also know the truth about having sex but the incestuous nature of what we''re doing is... thrilling. He cums first, thrusting into my mouth (and like he's done ever since he busted his first nut in my mouth way back then) and I'm not too far behind him and just as I have since that first time, I hate that it feels so goddamned good and better than all the other men I've done this with. We get untangled and I almost know what he's about to say - because he's said it before. "Damn, I really miss this..." he says and, yep, right on cue. I hear myself saying that I miss it, too, and I'm even more pissed because I know it's the truth and, as it has been since we both grew up and came to the understanding that we just didn't like each other, I'm thinking about how the hell it's possible that we can get along just fine... when we have sex with each other but when we're not, yeah, I'd kill him if I had to and he's tried to off me at times. While we're recovering for the next part of the routine, we're talking like brothers should and catching each other up on what's been going on since we last saw each other while stroking each other's dick and the "rule" has always been whoever starts to get it back up first is the first to do some fucking and this time, I'm getting it back up first. I grab the lube and use a finger to get as much of it inside him and he moans and wiggles his butt against my finger and says again, "I've missed this - get it in." We both groan as my dick slides right into him right down to the hilt and it feels good being inside him again and, as always, it never escapes me that it's like our dicks were custom made to fit perfectly into each other and, also as always, I'm thinking about how good and evil it is for us to be doing this but it's not really bothering me because, again, I know the truth about having sex and this isn't any different from the many times I've had sex with a man other than this is my pain-in-the-ass brother and, for a moment, I laugh because he's literally going to be a pain in my ass right after I cum in him. As I'm fucking him, I'm thinking about how normal this feels; he's moaning and groaning and egging me on to fuck him harder and faster and I just do it and like I've done at his command so many times before and I'm... irritated because by all rights, this should have stopped a long time ago. We had both agreed that it should have... but. It warms my heart to hear him tell me - and as he has every time - that no one fucks him better than I do. This is more than "just sex" for us; it's the only time when we are able to set aside the animosity we have for each other and the only time we're really brothers even if in this special and forbidden way.
First a note: The comment thingy doesn't appear to be working so if you have comments, message me! Now, on to what this is about. My late brother's birthday is in two days; I sometimes feel bad because some of my best memories of him are all the times we had sex, from the first time to the last time (and just a couple of days before he was murdered). His death doesn't torment me as much as it used to - he died in 1984 - but early in December, I remember him just the same and today is no different. As adults, we'd been off and on lovers and to the point that if he was knocking on my door, it was a safe bet that he wasn't there to say hi or that something was wrong and he needed my help and this was kinda unlikely since we didn't really like each other all that much. Weird, right? So, one day, he comes knocking on my door and it was the first time in almost three years. It wasn't like I hadn't seen him before this moment because I would see him in passing, we'd wave at each other and keep on about our business. He's knocking, I see it's him and since it had been a long time since his last visit - and one where we had sex - I was really wondering why he was here because it couldn't be for that again. I let him in and he's acting like he just saw me yesterday and that kinda pissed me off and I really did say, "Long time no see; so why are you here and what's so important that it took you almost three years to stop by?" He's got this... snarky smile on his face and says, "Take a guess." He really doesn't want me to guess - he just said it because he knows it pisses me off to be asked to guess at something so, yeah, he's pushed this button and I bite back the urge to punch his lights out. "Just tell me," I said and feeling a little defeated because he made me say this and, shit, he wins this one. "Why else would I be paying you a visit?" he asks. "The only time you come to see me is when you want to have sex," I said. "Okay, then - so what's up?" Ooh, I want to punch him so bad because he knows that no matter how I feel about him, I'm not going to tell him no but this time, I have a question for him: "Why are we still doing this? Aren't you getting dick from other guys?" He's unfazed by my question and says, "Yeah, you know I am but when I need that good dick, I know who to get it from so... we gonna do this or what?" Damn him and damn me, too. He knows I'm not going to turn him down and I know that I won't.
And the biggest task of all: Putting it all together and making sense of it. All of it. Digging and searching for the answers because I knew they were out there. Finding the answers. Being able to provide them to others. Being the science nerd I knew myself to be and knowing why a guy's cum can taste good and pretty horrible. Learning some shit about the chemistry in a woman's pussy that, yeah, if guys really knew about this, they wouldn't put their mouth on one, let along stick their dick in one. Learning about STDs or VD as we knew this nasty shit to be called. Learning to be smart enough to have avoided this particular pitfall and understanding how so many of my peers weren't so lucky in this. Things like learning to trust my instincts more than what someone said. Indeed, learning why women didn't like having sex with guys and, sometimes, feeling some shame because I knew what they knew and, yeah, I'm a guy and it became important for me to learn how to not be THAT guy. Also learning how... insane women were about guys having sex with each other and not understanding that I suck dick for a lot of the same reasons they do. And at every turn, learning how... stupid we can be about having sex. And all the shit one can do in order to get the sex they want and need, up to and including cheating on your boy or girlfriend, husband or wife... and them cheating on you and all because they have a need for sex that wasn't being taken care of or couldn't be; like I told a woman, "Baby, I love you and I love having sex with you but when I need to suck a dick, you don't have one." And them not understanding this. Being subjected to that damned double standard that STILL doesn't make a damned bit of sense. Once I started learning, I couldn't stop learning. I'm not an expert in these things and I don't pretend to be but... I know some shit because I had to learn it and I had to because, um, I love having sex. Men, women, doesn't matter. I learned to not be superficial; I learned that you cannot judge a book by its cover. I learned that just because it looks good doesn't mean the sex will be good. Indeed, I had sex with a lot of men and women because they were judged to be too ugly, fat, whatever other prejudices someone had that made having sex with them a deal-breaker... and learning that sex with these people was, more often than not, better because they had to work harder at sex than those who were good-looking and in great shape. Learning that a huge dick is... just a huge dick. Been there. Conquered them. Guys have them. So what? I remember the smallest adult dick I've ever seen and had... and how much fun I had sucking it and to the point where the poor guy had to tap out because I couldn't get enough of sucking him. Also learning about the whole top and bottom thing. Learning and observing how all of this went from it being unmanly for men to have sex with each other to it being very manly and if you weren't down with it, well, you must be some kind of punk-assed bitch. Learning and seeing how men have gotten... weird about it over all these years. So much fear in them that is, on the one hand, understandable but on the other, yeah, doesn't make a lot of sense given that a lot of the things men are afraid of are things that one can do something about... if they used their intelligence and not let their fears dictate things. And here I am, fifty-eight years after experiencing sex with a man, I am still very much in learning mode. Understanding that a lot of people feel sorry for me for having learned what I did and the way I did and me feeling sorry for them because they really don't seem to understand how this really works and that the rules... don't really mean a whole lot when you get right down to it. Learning that they do have a purpose and so do the laws that goes with these rules and... not everyone obeys them, and this disobedience isn't always in the "horrible way" we like to think it is. I learned that humans love and need to have sex and that we will do whatever we need to do in order to have it and be pretty damned creative when we do it. I learned the hypocrisy we've put in place in that it's good to have sex but wrong to have it in certain ways and people. It's okay for a woman to suck a guy off, bad for a guy to do it and... where's the real sense in this because sucking dick is... sucking dick and no matter who does it and the results are the same: It makes the guy being sucked cum. Just like it doesn't matter who's eating a woman's pussy as long as the person doing it makes them cum/orgasm and as much as they can handle. Learning that it's not what you do that won't get you laid - it's what you won't do and learning that a lot of people have stupidly long lists of what they won't do and sometimes they won't do something because someone else told them a horror story about that time they did it and it was all kinds of fucked up. Yes, it does hurt having a dick pushed into your ass. Why would a guy want this to happen? Because it feels good - eventually. Guys have asked girls, "What does it feel like to be fucked?" and, well, if you really want to know... I know what it's like. Usually feels pretty good and depending on the guy the dick is attached to and, yeah, guys can be total assholes about (1) wanting to get their dick in you and (2) when they do get it in you. But, you take the good with the bad and you learn from it and the most important thing I learned is that just because it was "bad" that time doesn't mean it's going to be bad the next time - and even with the guy or girl who made it bad the first time. And... I learned about myself. No inhibitions at all. A short list of things I won't do, like, having someone piss on me or if I'm sucking your dick, the cum goes in my mouth and never ever on my face because that's so demeaning and not all that different from someone spitting in your face. And, um, if it's on my face, it's not in my mouth so I can taste and swallow it. One of the joys of being fucked in the ass is being... inseminated and just like I've done to so many women. That pulling it out shit... defeats the purpose and steals the joy of being pumped full of cum. I learned to be... fearless. Not care- or clueless. Fearless. Fear makes you not have sex. I remember being "way older" and talking to my sister about what we used to do - and it was the first time in like twenty years after we'd stopped having sex and the first time we talked about it since then. We talked about how good it was and how afraid we really were to get caught but not afraid to have sex with each other. I was... greatly surprised when she suggested that we do it one more time "for old time's sake" and... we did. She made me laugh when she said that she was glad to see how much better I'd gotten at eating pussy but made me feel so much more love for her when she said how comfortable she felt making love to me and... she had missed it. Told me about the many times she wanted to come to me for sex but was afraid to - and afraid that I'd turn her down. And learning that one of the reasons why she wanted that one last time was because she was dissatisfied with the guy she was married to. I felt... honored that she chose to cheat on him with me but, of course, I was never going to tell him about it but you can bet that I couldn't look at him with a straight face afterwards. And... she wasn't afraid to have sex with me again. Said that it was stupid of her to be afraid and like she had been. And me learning even more about this. All of it. The sadness I still feel from having sex with my brother and, days later, watching him die even as I did everything I could to save his life. How despite our not-so-loving relationship, neither of us had any fear of doing each other and showing our women how comfortable we were having sex with each other. Quite the turn-on for both of them as it turned out. But, more than anything else, this was just a part of what I learned about having sex and you can have it with anyone... if they want to and all the ruckus we make about sex and sexuality is just our fears doing a lot of talking and the best way to have sex is... to not be afraid to have sex. Or, yeah, fuck the rules. Learned and understood. Zero shame about how I learned. And damned glad I did.
The joy of sucking a guy's dick. So good that even now, I have a very difficult time trying to put those feelings into words. Understanding that males have always been having sex with each other so my sucking a guy until he gave up his cum was... not the big deal everyone said it was. Finding the answer to The Question I had asked myself after that man introduced me to dick: How can something that everyone says is so bad feel so good? And the answer was/is: It feels good... because it's supposed to. And learning how afraid a lot of people were of having sex. Some of those fears were real because they were experienced but a lot of them were... imagined. Handed down from parent to child. Being hammered into every- and everyone who went to church and being told about the sins of the flesh and how they were going to die and go to hell for indulging in them. That the punishment for disobeying the Word of God was... death. Notably, poor Onan, who got put to death because he wouldn't impregnate his dead brother's wife and like he was supposed to. He fucked her and before he came in her, he pulled out and, yes, spilled his seed upon the ground and lost his life behind it... and made people believe that masturbating was a sin and all kinds of crazy shit like it being a mental illness. I guess I learned to be mentally ill the day a friend showed me how to get myself off. Just one more "piece of the sexual puzzle" I was putting together. The guys getting together and jerking off to see who could shoot the stuff the farthest and, again, how many time we could shoot before we couldn't do it anymore. Learning that while masturbating was fun - and it was fun to do it with another guy - it was way better to suck each other off and/or fuck each other... because, why not? Everyone else was doing it. And I was doing it every chance I got to. Understanding the shame being laid on girls for being "easy" and knowing that I was seriously easy. Just show me your dick and I'd start drooling and I'd want it in my mouth or in my ass. Having that happen and turning right around and have sex with a girl and one who had little or no shame about wanting to suck dick and be fucked. Learning that people can be very stupid about having sex. Afraid to talk about it even in general terms. Being very surly about whatever they're doing being nobody's business. Learning about the sexual stereotypes like all Black men have big dicks and that we don't eat pussy and we're all homophobic. And learning that while there were some truth to the stereotypes, IT WASN'T THE WHOLE TRUTH. I knew I didn't have a really big dick. I sure as fuck ate pussy. And I'd have sex with a guy and not give it a second thought. The interracial thing? I knew why people were so goddamned weird and against not "staying with your own kind" and know that it was... bullshit. Yeah... white people and others who weren't Black were fun to have sex with but that made sense because sex is supposed to be fun and, besides - they had less hang-ups about having sex than my own people had.