“You mean try it here?”
“Yeah.”
“Now?”
“Sure, if you want.” I kept my voice light. It was important that I keep this casual.
“I need more beer.”
“If you knock yourself out you’re not going to be able to hold a pose.” I warned.
“Ok. I’ll just have one, ok?” He was committed, just about.
“You can use my robe; it’s behind the washroom door.” I told him.
Donovan got up to get another beer, and I quickly dropped the dishes into the sink. I picked up the stuff I’d need and moved the television in the living room so that I’d have a clear view of the sofa from where I’d be painting. I could hear Donovan pacing around the kitchen and then move into the washroom. There was the unmistakable sound of Donovan unzipping and loosening his belt buckle. The anticipation was killing me.
Finally, Donovan reappeared in my robe. He chucked the empty beer can in the garbage bin.
“Ok. Let’s do this.” He said grimly.
I turned on the studio lighting.
“Alright, strip!”
The robe fell to the floor.
Oh baby baby…
Feeling a little light headed, I vaguely heard him say nervously, “Where you want me?”
“Just sit on the coach, find a comfy position.” I said. He wasn’t hard, but man, even so it was something else. He sat. He leaned back and put his massive arms loosely across the top of the sofa, his abs and shoulders rippling all the while.
Now to set the scene. I had to do something about Donovan’s nervousness too. I went over to his duffel back.
“Hey, what you doing?”
“Rummaging through your stuff, what’s it look like?”
“Now wait a minute…”
“Relax Don, I’m you’re kid brother, remember? I’m a pro at this.” I grinned, “You remember those Hustler magazines you bought way back when you were fourteen? Guess who left one in the washroom for Mom to find?”
“What? That was you?” He yelled. His face flushed as he moved to stand up.
“Uh uh uh…You move from the sofa, and the gig’s off.”
He froze. I had him.
“You little shit…” He seethed.
“Yeah, I know.” I gloated. “I still remember Mom raiding your room and finding the rest of your stash, plus the bondage and sex toy ads.”
In the meantime, I’d pulled out my brother’s hockey stick, helmet and smelly Canucks jersey. I leaned the stick against the arm of the sofa, hooked the helmet on a corner, and threw the jersey haphazardly on the other side. Stepping back, I evaluated the tableau critically. It still needed something…I picked the beer can he’d crushed out of the garbage bin and put it into his hand.
“What the hell?”
“Just hold it.” I told him.
The perfect jock.
“Alright I’m starting now, hold that pose for twenty minutes.” I said.
I got behind my canvas, took a breath to steady myself, and started sketching an outline. I noticed right away how small the sofa looked with him in it. His thick, broad torso filled the space. There were scars on his chest I hadn’t seen before, though it must have been years since the last time I saw him shirtless. He didn’t look nervous now. He looked a little pissed off actually, which was good, added to the scene.
The scene. Right. Who the fuck was I kidding. I didn’t give a damn about the scene. What I wanted to do was to run my hands across those ripped abs, lick between those pecs where his treasure trail started, and suck that cock, suck it suck it suck it… Jesus Christ was it just me or was it getting hot in here?
“Man, these lights are hot,” Donovan remarked as if on cue.
“Yeah, they’re cheap, sorry.” I apologized. I’d gotten the lights at a discount price from someone I knew who worked for a porn studio. That’s right boys, when you see those actors sweating, it isn’t just from the sex.
Speaking of sweat, I couldn’t help noticing how good Donovan looked with it. There was a definite sheen on his muscles. I was using bold, dark lines for his body, and shades of pink and red for his skin. It was working up a sweat too.
I took off my shirt.
That’s when things started to get weird. Now, I paint men and women for a living, and one thing I knew how to do was to tell looks from looks. From Donovan, I’d known “hey, how’s it going my lil’ bro” looks and “hey bro, wanna have a beer” looks. But I’d never seen the look he gave me now. This was something new. His slack jaw had a hunger in it. The hooded intensity in his eyes had intent behind them that was anything but innocent.
I had a good body, I knew that. Our parents had passed on good genes to both of us. Mountaineering as part of my landscape and photography work had given me muscle and definition. I’d just never known my brother to be interested.
He stared at my lower lip. I licked it. He licked his.
And then I forgot to breathe.
Donovan was getting hard. His big-veined, uncut cock pulsed and grew. The purple meat curved sinfully upwards. And all the while he looked straight at me. There was nothing brotherly in that look. Or that cock.
Holy shit. This was getting dangerous.
“Ok, I think it’s been about twenty minutes. We’ll take a break. You want some water? I’ll get some water.” Without waiting for his reply I dashed to the kitchen. I filled a cup with water and drained it. Filled it again. I felt my brother coming up behind me. And then I felt his body heat. I turned.
He had his hand on the counter on both sides of me, trapping me, eyes burning into mine.
“Want some?” I said weakly, putting the cup between us.
Our fingers touched as he took it without a word and drained it. I watched feverishly as his throat muscles worked. He put the empty cup down on the counter with finality and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He leaned into me. And then he cupped my hard cock and all I could do was moan.
“You want me, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question. His voice was like wet gravel, hard and coarse. “This was your plan all long, eh? Get your big dumb brother naked. So you could get off on the thought of me, eh?”
With the other hand he palmed my face. Bringing our lips close enough almost to touch, he whispered, “Well, it worked.” And then he closed the distance with his mouth. The last vestiges of my sanity evaporated with the heat of his lips, his tongue, his naked rod pressed against my belly, his hands feeling up my sides, my own on his hard sweaty back.
The next thing I knew he was lifting me over his shoulder and fireman hauling me down the hall. He was on top of me the instant he put me down on the sofa. He kissed me hard and then nuzzled my neck with his unshaven jaw till my toes curl. I bit his shoulder; he groaned, and rearing up, he unzipping my fly and ripped my pants off. It was sweet relief for my cock.
I gripped his curved cock against mine. “Guess I’m not the only one our parents made bent.” I drawled.
Donovan was humping his cock against mine. “You wanna suck it?”
“Hell yeah.”
He scooted up and lowered his cock to my face. I started sucking. He was big, hard, warm, salty and perfect. He moaned and started thrusting gently. Holy fuck, I was sucking my brother’s cock and I was on cloud nine.
He pulled out and said, “Let’s suck together.”
We got in a sixty-nine position on our sides and he went home on my dick. He was taller but his dick was longer, so it worked out. His mouth was hot and he sucked fast and hard, but I was better. I could take him all the way down my throat.