As you can guess from my screen name, I usually post in the Fetish section. This is a somewhat auto-biographical fantasy and my first submission to the Gay Male category, so please be gentle!
-- Peebudy
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I'm not gay.
But my brother is.
Danny is 7 years older than me and we've always been polar opposites.
He's the oldest, I'm the youngest. He's into art and music, I'm into sports and women. He's tall and thin, I'm shorter and pudgy.
But the biggest difference between us, and the one that always pissed me off the most, was that he is very well endowed, and I have a smaller than average cock.
Danny and I shared a room growing up in our parent's small house, so there were several opportunities to see each other, as he liked to sleep in the buff. His cock was long and thick, and even soft, hung down way past his balls. I had always hoped that mine would grow as big as his when I hit puberty, but alas, it never did.
I think this is where my fascination with large cocks stems from. Classic penis envy.
Like I said, I'm not gay, but every time I watch porn (which is a lot!) I find myself as enthralled with the size of the actor's cocks, as I am watching the actresses lick, suck and take them in every one of their holes.
The differences between my brother and I continued through our adulthood as well.
He went to college for photography, I went to engineering school. He never settled down with one partner, I got married shortly after college and recently celebrated my 10th anniversary. He lives in a downtown flat, I live out in the suburbs.
But we're family, and we love each other. And even though he's my big brother, I've been the one looking out for him and protecting him over the years.
You see, my brother is promiscuous, and he has a bit of a drinking problem, and often times finds himself in touchy situations. He's not an alcoholic, it's just that if he has a one too many drinks, he gets mouthy, and if he has three too many drinks, he just blacks out.
I can't count the number of times I've gotten a call in the middle of the night to come rescue him from some abusive dude's apartment, or retrieve him from one of the downtown gay bars. It's gotten so I'm on a first name basis with many of the managers of those establishments.
This story is about one of those nights.
Even after 10 years of marriage and two kids, my wife is still as sexy and attentive as when we were dating. I guess one benefit of not having six-pack abs or a horse cock is that you base your relationships on more substantial qualities, like love, shared values and commitment.
Like me, Cindy carries a little extra weight, but she's got beautiful curves, striking green eyes, auburn hair and an infectious smile. And she's very open-minded, both in and out of the bedroom. Over the years we've experimented with most sexual acts, positions, role play and toys, and she's always been an eager participant, looking to give as much pleasure as she receives.
On this night, she was kneeling on the floor in front of the couch between my outstretched legs, expertly using her mouth and tongue on my 5 and a half inch erection, while our favorite porn flick played on our 50" flat screen TV. The kids were off at sleep-away camp, so we had the house to ourselves.
I was alternating between watching my cock disappear between her plump ruby lips, and watching Jenna Jameson working her skills on some dude with a cock easily 12 inches long and four inches across. Admiring the purple head and the thick veins that ran down his shaft, I was secretly wishing I possessed such a tool to stretch Cindy's lips wide, and to reach depths of her pussy that have never been introduced to the pleasure of well endowed cock.
RIIIIING....RIIIING.
Just as I and the dude in the movie were about to cum, my cell phone started to ring. Looking at the clock it was 1:45am, and I knew that there could only be one reason for a call at this hour of the night, so I slid out from under Cindy and went and begrudgingly answered the call.
"Hello?...Don't worry about it...Is he okay?...I'll be right down...Thanks for calling...Bye."
That's what Cindy heard on my side of the call, and she knew that our play-time was over for the night.
The phone call was from Sid, the manager from The Hub, one of the downtown gay bars. Danny had gotten into a screaming match with his boyfriend on the dance floor, and then proceeded drink himself into oblivion after his beau left in a huff. It was my duty now to go and retrieve him.
It was a 20 minute ride to get downtown from my place, and since the bars close at 2:00am, I just threw on my pajama bottoms and a t-shirt and headed out the door.