Gay Erotic Stories

Author: sebastian_wallace@yahoo.co.uk

I wouldn't have seen them if the door hadn't have been ajar.

I'd heard them talking – that's what had awoken me – but I'd have assumed they were just having a chat if I hadn't have seen them. Thought they were talking about old times or something--whatever guys of their age talk about.

I'd come downstairs for a glass of water. I hadn't meant to spy on them. But, like I said, I got glimpse of them through the gap in the door as I walked past it. And that's what made me stop. The hallway was freezing cold and I was wearing only a pair of pajama bottoms and a vest but I had to see what was going on.

You see, what caught my attention was that they were both inside the sleeping bag. Both squeezed into the one sleeping bag, whispering stuff to each other. At first I thought maybe I was mistaken: that it wasn't the two brothers together; that the older of them had sneaked a girl in. That was the way the whispering sounded: kind of conspiratorial; like a couple of lovers.

But both voices were deep and I realised it was the two guys in there. My nephews.

Then I noticed the way the bag was moving. I couldn't really see very much – the only light was the flickering of the fire – but it was obvious what was going on inside the bag. It was pretty clear that they were fiddling with each other.

I suppose my immediate reaction was to be appalled by what I was seeing; two grown lads, brothers no less, playing with each other. I almost wanted to walk right in and stop them. But something held me back--curiosity, maybe; morbid fascination. I don't know.

They kept kissing each other between whispering together--kissing like they meant it. I thought I must be dreaming this. This couldn't be happening. I mean, the younger guy has had girlfriends. I'd even met one a couple of years earlier. And he was seeing someone right then, or so I gathered.

The older one was a good looking lad as well. He'd just got himself an impressive job by all accounts. Women would be throwing themselves at him. So what the hell was going on? Why would they be playing around with each other?

The older one said something and the younger one chuckled. They unzipped the bag halfway down, and the younger of them lay on his back. I saw his knob poking out from the top of his underpants. The other lad pulled his brother's underpants down a little further and handled his knob like it was made of glass. Like he was in awe of it or something.

It was a pretty big piece of meat; I have to say; a size or two bigger than mine. I think I might have been in awe of it, come to think of it. I almost gasped when the older lad began sucking at the head of his brother's knob. I really couldn't believe what I was seeing.

The younger one groaned like a contented dog and lay back to enjoy the attention he was getting. He held his brother's head, like he was trying to get more of his knob into the guy's mouth each time the older guy moved his face down onto it. Then the one doing the sucking paused and looked up at his brother's face. He smiled at him and said something like, "Am I better than your girlfriend?"

The younger guy laughed and said, "Like I said, it's totally different... it feels nice because it's you, Gazz... not 'cause you're a substitute for a girl..."

And that's what started me thinking. I'd never done much with my brother – their father – but what little we had got up to after lights out was always... well... a bit special. Maybe that sounds a bit sentimental, I don't know. But seeing the two of them made me remember that I'd enjoyed something of what they were now feeling myself thirty or so years earlier; hugging each other, pressing our knobs up against each other, that kind of stuff. Maybe tossing off, I don't remember. I just know that it had felt nice to be close to Jim like that--when we were teens.

To feel my older brother's arms around me and to enjoy feeling him getting excited; to know that we were both getting aroused by the other's pleasure as we pressed our bodies against each other. It had sort of brought us together--if that doesn't sound too soft.

These guys were in a different league from their father and me, but I could see the appeal and, I think, understand why they were doing it. I must say that the older one gave his brother's knob a treat, working the shaft with his fingers while his mouth kissed and licked at the head. His technique was gentle and tender. It was, I could see, and act of affection more than of lust. Or that's how it looked.

Could I have done this to Jim when we were their age? I wasn't sure. Maybe it would have been nice if we had.

*****

When Gareth had finished his elaborate, and extremely pleasant, way of wetting my cock, he looked up at me, smiling.

I said, "Are you really sure about this, Gazz?"

He nodded. "Yeah..."

He rolled over onto his stomach and I pulled the back of his briefs down to the tops of his thighs. His arse cheeks looked soft and pale in the dim red flicker from the fire. I worked my fingers into his cleft, finding his tight, puckered hole. He gasped.

Then I surprised him – surprised myself, actually – by wetting his opening using my tongue. He tried to pull away – seemed almost embarrassed – but I held him firm and licked at his anus, tasting its faintly bitter scent and feeling the heat of it against my tongue. Pressing my face against Gareth's arse like that made my cock strain in anticipation. The sensation wasn't disgusting at all; I hadn't expected it be. Instead, it felt intensely arousing to be so intimate with my brother and for us to be showing each other such trust. After I'd moistened him, I mounted him and eased my cock slowly and gently into his rectum.

Gareth smiled and groaned in appreciation. He said, "That feels nice..."

I put my arms around his chest, my face against the back of his neck, and started fucking him with long, deliberate strokes.

He muttered, "Oh God... I'm not gonna last long..."

*****

I'd never seen two men making love – never even imagined what it would look like, if I'm honest – but seeing those two doing it, in front of the fire like that, was... well... Beautiful, I suppose. Awe-inspiring.

The front of my blue pajamas rose up like one of those ski jumps you see on the telly. My own organ was demanding attention from my hand. I can't remember the last time it did that. I felt a little guilty that I had become aroused seeing my own nephews sharing their private moment, but I couldn't deny that what I was looking at was incredibly erotic. Yes, erotic. I was fully aware that this was an act of buggery – that I was watching one brother sodomising the other – but I think it was the motivation behind it that I found so captivating.

These guys really loved each other. They were unashamed about being intimate together. That was what was so beautiful about it. And, when you think about it, how can two people better express affection than to make love with one another?

How can one man better express his love and trust of another than to allow him to enter his body? I really was awe-struck, open-mouthed and dumbfounded.

I began to imagine doing to my older brother – Jim – what the younger guy was doing to his older brother--when we'd been their age. The idea was enticing, though tinged with regret that it hadn't happened; that Jim and I had never been close enough to have experienced this together. That to do so would be impossible now.

I realised the front of my pajamas had a damp patch the size of a fifty pence piece at the tip of my erection. I eased my organ out through the fly and gently worked at it with my fingers.

The younger lad pulled his brother upward so that he was bending on all fours. Then he got upright behind him, his hips bucking against the older lad's buttocks. They were both panting like a couple of greyhounds.

The older lad groaned, "Aah... Sebastian..."

The younger lad was caressing his brother's back and his chest, his hands exploring the other lad's body inside his loose-fitting tee-shirt. So this was brotherly love. If only I'd have known.

Then the older one pushed himself upright so that the two of them were kneeling together, one behind the other. I saw that they were moving in time together: the older lad was pushing his bum back against the younger; the younger one was driving himself in to meet him. I was bowled over again by the beauty of it--the sheer elegance.

These guys must adore each other.

I saw the older lad's knob arching upwards in front of him while he received his brother behind him. It looked thick and enormous, bouncing around in time with their love-making. The younger lad's hand reached round to hold it, but the older one brushed him off. He said, "Only when you're ready, Seb..."

The other one panted, "I am..."

The older one shifted his position slightly, opening his legs further, and then grabbed his brother's hand and placed it on his knob. Their movements became faster; frenzied almost. The older brother erupted almost as soon as the younger lad wrapped his fingers around his knob. The younger one began bucking his hips furiously: pumping himself in and out of his brother's backside as he reached his own climax. The two of them were grunting like a couple of pigs.

In my mind's eye I was watching Jim and I at their age in their place. The two of us in front of the fire, me behind him with my arms around him, being intimate with him in ways I would never have considered. I only realised then that my own knob was spurting and that I was grunting too.

As they cleaned themselves up, and as I tried to wipe as much of my own mess from the living room door as I could, I felt a sense of loss creeping over me. It was an odd sensation – I still get it from time to time – of having missed out on something at an age when I hadn't even known such things were possible.

Sometimes when I see Jim looking over at me at family get-togethers, deep in thought, I wonder if he sometimes feels it too. If he knows what his two sons have experienced together and regrets that we hadn't had the courage to explore it too.

I didn't get much sleep that night. My mind was reeling like it had had been kicked in the teeth.

*****

I didn't see Gareth in the New Year like we'd planned. I meant to, it was just that unexpected things happened and I ended up in hospital throughout most of January as a patient rather than a student.

He sent me a card, which said, "Thinking of you. Gareth." He was just about the only member of my family who did.

Actually, thinking back, I seem to remember that I got one from Uncle Sean, which was a little bizarre. It must have been the first time that he'd ever shown that he could remember my name, never mind cared about my state of health.

There was no mention of Auntie Diane on it; it was just signed, "Hope to see you soon, Uncle Sean." Odd.

I next saw Gareth just before Easter. I went to stay with him at a flat he was sharing with a friend in Epsom. The weird thing was that when I realised, after a couple of hours of being there, that his friend was a bit more than a friend, I actually found myself feeling jealous! Jealous of my brother's boyfriend!

But, in retrospect, I think getting into a relationship helped Gareth a lot. We talked about what we'd done, when we were alone of course, but the fact that he was paired up with a guy he quite clearly had a lot of feelings for seemed to prevent further developments between the two of us.

At least in the short term...

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Comments (please!): sebastian_wallace@yahoo.co.uk Website: http://stories.remoworld.com

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