Editor's note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.
"You're fucking with me," I said, almost wishful.
"I guarantee you, I am not," Blake said with a snicker.
Indeed, he turned his phone around and there it was. Two full round cheeks and one pink sphincter. Legs apart, knees on the bed. An arch in the back, lifting the asshole up, fully aimed at the camera. Underneath, a shrimpy dick. The upper half of the body couldn't be seen, just the hand that took the photo in the mirror.
I had never seen an asshole before. Not like this anyway. Sure, there were girls in porn, but somehow those assholes looked different. And the focus was on the cocks and the pussies, not this exit.
I was completely conflicted. To see a shitter in such bright light, I suddenly understood why people did anal. It looked like a pussy of sorts. And the small ridge between the two big butt cheeks was so smooth and clean. That round pink ring looked so tasty.
I felt my blood surging in my cock until I realized what I was looking at. Or better yet: whom. Suddenly the entirety of it, seeing his balls, the skinny legs spread apart, it was disgusting. Boys shouldn't sit like this. Least of all...
"He looks like a slut, man," Blake said, turning the phone back towards himself and looking at the screen a bit too enamored. "I bet he lets guys rail him all time." Blake automatically, but quickly as if I wouldn't notice, adjusted his crotch. Was that bulge growing?
"Still doesn't prove anything," I replied. It's one thing if it's true, it's another if it turns Blake on.
"It says 5 miles," I added, pointing at the distance metric on the profile, in a faint attempt to deny what I already knew was true from the sheets of the bed and the posters on the wall in the video.
"That stuff isn't accurate. Look at those legs. And that's the same carpet isn't it? Your little brother has an online account where he's offering his hole up for every man in town."
I trembled. Blake was definitely turned on by this thought; I now saw his dick jump a bit in his tight jeans. And that grin on his face wasn't one of disgust either.
Everyone knew Blake banged trannies through online-dating apps. He couldn't stop ranting about it. He often showed them, and they were beautiful women. He never fucked guys who looked like guys. He simply wanted trans women or cross-dressing boys. But because Blake was almost 6 feet 7 absolutely nobody thought this was anything but manly and heterosexual. And he kept on going how their pussies were way better than real ones. Tighter. Take dick without complaints. Can cum from penetration alone if you pump it right.
"He's a virgin," I sighed in a last attempt.
Jason wasn't a very outgoing person. He was gay, I think, though we never talked about it. Once I jokingly brought it up when we were all eating dinner, but the room fell dead silent. Jason ran up to his room and my mom scolded at me for joking about such things. I wanted to go upstairs and talk to Jason. To hold him and tell him it didn't matter to me. But I felt like a failure older brother for being my lump-headed self and joking about it in front of mom and dad. Besides, he was just generally shy and never had a relationship with a boy or a girl. In fact, he didn't seem interested in sex at all, aside from jerking in his room every now and then. And what boy didn't? No, this couldn't be him.
"Maybe, but he's selling himself as a greedy cumwhore," Blake said. "He sent me three different hole pics and is asking to meet up. You definitely got a faggot in the house man!"
"Shut the fuck up!" A surge of anger took over me when he called Jason a faggot. He wasn't. Even if he was. This was a mistake. I beat Blake until he laughed and gave up.
"Well you sort that out, I'm going to my other bitch. But I don't know, if I buy your bro a dress I might come back here soon too."
Blake stuck out his tongue on his way out and I ran after him, and we tussled until he left.
By the time I returned to my room I couldn't think of anything else but Jason's butthole. It looked so... pretty. Those holes in porn were there to be fucked. Dicks just went in, fitted perfectly and drilled until they found another hole to poke in. Assholes in real life were used for going to the bathroom. There was nothing sexual about them. Especially not boy's assholes.
But for me to see one that looked so clean, so perfectly round and freshly pink, so unshaven that you could kiss it like a woman's lips... it... changed things for me. To be quite honest, it made me rock hard.
I shook the memory of my mind. The fact that it was an asshole was already too much. That it belonged to my annoying little brother just wouldn't land. It wasn't true. Blake was bullshitting, I told myself. And thus, I returned back to my school work.
****
"Hey, I'm thinking about your cock" I texted anxiously.
Something had taken me over ever since Blake had sent his first dickpic. It was the most beautiful cock I'd ever seen. Any doubt that I was a cocksucker had evaporated. Though I never actually had sucked one, I did spend many years of jerking to porn, imagining I was the boy on his knees worshipping a man's dick. I'd knock someone out just to sit on Blake's rock-hard cock. Just to feel it's skin and pink tip slide in me. The idea that his male genitals, made for impregnating women, were used to get pleasure out of my boy body, made my cock leak.
It helped that Blake was the hottest man in the world. He was ripped. He wore shirts that accentuated his broad shoulders and perfect bulging biceps. On hot days you could count the six pack through his shirt. I wanted him in ways I didn't know you could want a person. I wanted to kiss his shoulders and lick the sweat off his forehead, I wanted to hear him moan and grab my waist. I wanted his body on top of mine, even if it hurt.
Blake didn't respond to my text. It drove me crazy. Was he into me? Wasn't he? What if he told my brother? The two had been friends forever.
I tried to take my mind off of Logan finding out I was a faggot. It gave me too much stress. Though my brother was far from mean, he was... a dufus. Don't get me wrong, he was very smart, he was in college after all, and handsome in a traditional sort of way. He barely had any facial hair and he was very muscled but also fat from all the fast food. He could beat a guy up but certainly wouldn't be popular on Mykonos if you catch my drift. And he was the best kind of brother. The one who pulled pranks on you with his jock friends, but still stole candy bars from the local shop for you. He was a boy's boy and I was a girl's boy and we never liked the same things, but we loved each other all the same.
Yet, Logan was an idiot with the tact of a bulldozer. I will never forget how one night at the dinner table he joked about me liking boys. It shook my core. I froze up and couldn't move, in fear of what mom and dad would say. It wasn't a mean-spirited act. It was his way of opening up the conversation, as best as he could. I know because when my parents stayed silent and I looked Logan in his eyes, the look on his face was not of ridicule or disgust, it was of regret over what he had done. What should've been a moment where both my parents casually told me they wouldn't mind it if I was, was now the realization of my deepest fears. They did mind. And they minded that Logan brought up. Logan looked like a guilty puppy, but I couldn't focus on him. I was too embarrassed over the silence of my parents. I excused myself and fled upstairs, ensured I would never come out to anyone. Not even Logan.
Blake's text disrupted my train of thought.
"You home alone?"
