Brothers Helper

Brothers helper

My first year of college had been a blast. Met a slew of new people, learned an unimaginable amount of things about myself and the world, and had dated a few ladies during the year - nothing super serious, but college was not the sexual revolution I had envisioned. My studies were intense, and I found that I had resorted to a weekly or bi-weekly schedule of solo release in order to stay focused on studies and not chasing tail. I had a scholarship to maintain, and if I lost that, I knew my family didn't have the money to keep me in school. I had to grow up fast and just learn to put responsibility over leisure and pleasure. It was a long year, and I was looking forward to the time off of school and the extreme responsibility, but knew that I was going to have to put summer work ahead of everything else. I had an amount I needed to make in the summer in order to cover my expenses for the entire next year, so I was still going to have to put responsibility first, but I was hoping for a bit of a respite. The main benefit was that I was able to stay room and board free at my parents house, but I would have to spend the summer crashing on the extra sofa in the pool table room in the basement, where my older brother was also staying for the summer. He got the fold out bed, while I just got the regular old sofa. I didn't care too much, it was free.

My brother Steve is the oldest child, the in charge, outgoing type. He was a varsity athlete in 3 sports, and kept in good shape. He wasn't tall, medium height around 5'9", 160 because he had some muscles in his upper body, dark hair, and was very straightforward about things. I on the other hand, tall and skinny, 6'1", 140 lbs, dark blonde longer hair, and ran cross country and played soccer. Senior year, I started working out, but as much as I ran and didn't eat, I couldn't keep anything but a super-toned skinny kid look. Steve was the oldest, meaning he always got his way, plus he made sure I knew I was the younger child, and that only intensified as I shot past him in height. We had always got along really well, but always competing with each other with him usually winning because he was older. Such is the ways of older and younger brothers, I suppose.

I spent the first few days home getting a summer job lined up, and ended up with a job day-stocking shelves on a second shift, from 3-11pm every day. I also took a job as a short order cook during breakfast or lunch rush on weekends or when they called me in, putting in 4-6 hours a day on top of the full-time job during the weekends. Steve worked a number of jobs, too, but his main one was a sales job that ran from 8-5 every day. We barely ever saw each other, and with us both working full time and just getting back into town, neither of us had time to meet and find a girlfriend.

Steve and I had always been close, moving around a lot as kids, we were the only one the other could count on ever actually being there. It seemed that as soon as we made friends somewhere, we'd move again. We grew up, not as best friends, but just as the only thing that was permanent or steady, and we always knew the other one would be there for us. We fought like most brothers did, maybe more, but it was never violent or hateful, more of a competition or a struggle, which of course, he won.

We both were pretty good with the ladies, he more of a "player" while I was more of a "long term girlfriend" type. Neither of us were virgins, or even close, we both had a lot of experience, enough to know we liked sex and not having any was annoying and frustrating. But we also knew we had to work enough hours each summer to cover our expenses for the next 9 months, so it was a trade off.

The lack of sex or even the ability or time to try to find a girlfriend made me go out and buy a few porn magazines to help me get some physical relief. I stashed them in a drawer under my t-shirts, and would generally use them in the mornings when I woke up to get a nice start to the day. After a few weeks of this, I went to pull them out, and they seemed in a different order than I remembered. I don't think anything of it, but after I ripped off a great cum that morning, I specifically put them in order before I headed to work.

The next morning, I woke up hard and went to my drawer, and again, the magazines were in a different order than before. I laugh a little. Steve and I are sharing porno mags! No big deal, we can share. I pick up the top one and sit down to crank out a nice orgasm, and as I am looking at the pictures, I start wondering if THIS was the picture that Steve came to last night? Was it THAT one? As soon as I pictured in my head my brother, naked and stroking his cock, holding the same magazine I was holding, possibly on the same page, I ejaculated so hard it shot and landed on my chin and shoulder. I probably shot 10-11 different jets of sperm when it is usually just 6-7 spasms. I couldn't believe how intense the orgasm was, thinking about my brother and I sharing even these private moments. Again, I put the magazines in a specific order, this time putting my favorite on top, hoping he would use it. I am not even sure why, I suppose I felt closer to him at this point, sharing one more part of our lives of the only person who has always been in my life, outside the parental units, of course. But even then, Steve and I were together for school, after school in the yard or out riding bikes, watched the same TV shows, played the same games, etc., so he really was the person I had spent the most time with in my entire life to this point. Now that we were adults, with adult responsibilities, that connection didn't fade, it just was there in the background instead of the forefront.

That night, I got off work earlier than normal, so I swung by the bookstore, went into the back area, and grabbed 4 more new porn magazines. The few I had were starting to go stale after the past 4 weeks, so some new blood was needed. I got home sometime around 9:30PM. Steve was still up, and we played a game of pool or two, just shooting the shit, hanging out like we haven't done all summer yet. Parents went to bed around 10PM, and surprisingly, Steve was still up, considering he had to leave for work between 6:30-7AM.

"Hey, I am going to run out to the car real quick," I tell him.

"OK, I'll rack up the next game."

I run out to the car, open the trunk, and pull out the 4 new mags I had purchased. I close it up, and then head back inside.

"I got some new reading material," I announce as I come downstairs. "Check these out!"

I pull them out of the black bag they are in, and put them on the pool table.

Steve doesn't say a word. "They're porno mags," I helpfully tell him.

"No shit, idiot."

"Here, check this one out." I toss him one, while I open another one myself.

I pretend to ignore him as I flip through the pictorials, checking out the naked girls and their nicely shaped parts. I must say, whenever I got a new mag, I was rock hard, and today was no exception.

"Whoa! Lesbians!" I exclaim.

"Let me see that!" Steve says, as he pulls it out of my hand.

"You like lesbians, too?" I ask as I pick up another new mag.

"Hell yeah, two for one!" he says. I notice that he is standing awkwardly, trying to hide his obvious erection. Once again, the thought of us sharing our private sexual moments makes me even more horny, as the thought of us both getting sexually excited over the same thing again takes over my brain. I get to the point where I am so riled up, I am ready to just drop my shorts and jerk my cock. I can't take it anymore, and I finally decide I don't care, I have to cum.

"Uh, I, uh h-h-have to go pee r-r-real quick," I stutter out, flushed and fully engorged. I grab my mag and half duck walk, half sprint up the stairs, my boner making it difficult to walk normally. I jump into the half bath at the top of the stairs, drop my pants, and start stroking my steel rod, cumming within 30 seconds, spraying my load into the sink. Fuck. I wipe up, wash my hands, and flush the used Kleenex down the toilet. I look in the mirror, and my face is flushed bright red, and I still have a look of sheer joy and abandon on my face. I squeeze my shrinking cock, and open the door to head back downstairs.

"Took you long enough. I have to pee, too." Steve pushed past me into the half bath, the lesbo magazine in tow. I hear his pants hit the floor within seconds of the door closing and his guttural grunts as he starts to stroke himself make me stop and listen. I linger for a second, hearing the familiar slapping sounds of balls bouncing against thighs or vanity top, I am not sure, but he is really going at it. Again, I picture my brother naked and stroking his cock, and again, it arouses me. I had never had homosexual thoughts before, and I really still didn't, it was more of a feeling of closeness, of us sharing one more thing in our lives, after having shared everything else. What could be more brotherly than sharing one of the most intimate moments?

"Oh, AHHH!" I hear, and realize I listened to my brother Steve cumming, so I scurried downstairs to avoid that awkward moment of him exiting the bathroom, post-ejaculation. Thought started flying through my head, "Will he be embarrassed afterwards? Or worse, pick on me because that's what older brothers do? Will it be awkward between us? Should I say anything, or be silent?" My own insecurities and concerns start bleeding out of my brain as I imagine all the bad things that could go wrong.

He comes downstairs nonchalantly, puts the mag back on the pool table. "Man, I haven't had to pee that bad in a long time," as if nothing untoward or unusual had just occurred.

"Same, I peed really hard."

"Yeah, peeing feels good."

I nodded quietly and packed up the new mags, and put them in the drawer with the others before I headed to bed, my mind reeling with the situation and the easy way Steve handled everything, as if it wasn't a big deal or anything to even consider. Typical older brother, always in control, and typical younger brother, always unsure of where things stand or if I am missing something important in body language or in inflection of his words. Just a couple young guys jacking it to pictures of naked ladies, as natural and normal as can be.

"Night."

"Yeah, night."

I laid there most of the night, mind racing, and even worse, I had an erection for the majority of it, further keeping me from sleeping. My feelings were roiling, my brain was not helping, and my breath stayed short all night from the concern and uncertainty of what would unfold next, and if I had damaged our relationship or committed some sort of faux pas by bringing masturbation and sex into our normal brotherly interactions.

Over the next week, I came straight home from work, wondering if Steve would be awake still, and simultaneously hoping and dreading that the whole porn and masturbation thing would come up. I decided internally I wouldn't bring it up myself, being too unsure how he would take it, and not wanting to cause a rift between us. Twice that week, Steve was still awake when I got home. I needn't have worried about our relationship though, because as usual, Steve was confident about everything and never made me feel out of place or awkward.

"Hey brother!" he'd greet me. "Wanna play some pool?"

"Yeah, sounds great." I would reply.

"Cool, I'll rack while you change out of work clothes?"

"Perfect."

We played a game of 9 ball, which ended rather quickly when I had a nice line up of the 3 ball and the 9, which I sank to score ultimate victory! Or at least it felt like that. Beating your older brother at anything is always an elating experience and today was no exception.

Usually, a quick game like that would lead to "best two out of three", especially when Steve lost, but this night he shrugged and said, "Hey, I never saw those new magazines, you want to check them out again?"

I looked at him to make sure it wasn't some older brother trap, and like the trusting fool I am, I said, "Sure, why not?" waiting for the ax to fall and for him to turn it against me somehow. We flipped through the pictures together, side by side, leaning over the pool table, commenting on the bush or lack thereof, the shape or size of their breasts, nice ass, etc. - the things guys do when they are trying to deflect their arousal as "Meh, I've seen tits before, this doesn't turn me on" when of course, they are ragingly horny. The male bravado leaves zero to the imagination at times, and almost nothing to read into. And yet we still do it, and still have the same feelings of insecurity, but pretend we don't. It is such a silly dance, and yet it is so ingrained into our masculine personas we have nearly no choice but to do it.

After 20 minutes of this, we both started flipping through quietly, our breathing just a bit ragged and quickened as we allowed our biological impulses start to take over mental faculties. I began to rub myself a bit over my shorts, and was about to announce I had to "pee" again when Steve grabbed his and bolted up the stairs.

"Gotta pee!" he said over his shoulder as he disappeared up the stairs and into the small bathroom. I used the time alone to grab my erection through my shorts and give it a tug. Wow, that felt good. I briefly considered whipping it out right there, but decided against it - what if Steve came down while I was doing it? I would die of embarrassment. Instead, I walk slowly up the stairs to wait my turn in the half bath, and once again I had the pleasure of listening to Steve bring himself to orgasm through the door. My erection was ready to go off on its own, listening to the THWAP-THWAP-THWAP that I knew was my brother naked and stroking his naked cock. I heard a long "Hmmmmmm, UNH!" as Steve finished the deed, I pictured his scrunched up face as he approached orgasm and then how he might have that shocked followed by sheer joy cross his visage as he felt wave after wave of orgasm roll through his body. I instinctively touch myself as I wait, and am still doing so, my mind a bit gone, when Steve opened the door and came out.

"All yours, tiger." He stops as he sees me touching myself. "Hehe, couldn't wait? Better get in there." He jokes with me.

I rush in and drop my pants so fast, I didn't even close the door fully, my hand reaching down to feel the skin of my erection and within just a few seconds, my body tenses as the orgasm hits me, spurt after spurt of hot cum flying out as I moaned "Oh fuck, oh fuck! Ah Ah Ah AHHH!" I fall forward, and only my off hand on the vanity countertop is there to hold me up, my knees weak from the release. I stand there, swaying a bit, as I recover from one of the most intense orgasms of my young life. I start to catch my breath, and look up into the mirror and see the door cracked open. I reach back, and pull it shut, and begin to panic, "Did he see me? What will he say? Why didn't I close the door? Will he think I wanted him to watch?" My face reddens even more than the post-orgasmic flush it already had, and I clean up slowly, and am afraid to open the door and go downstairs to face him.

After a few minutes of indecision and fear, I finally gather my nerve, and open the door. Steve is not to be found, so I grab a glass of water, and head downstairs to get ready for bed. I refuse to look his way as I enter the room, and just walk over to my sofa area, guilty and humiliated, praying he is in bed and won't say anything.

"You should be more careful when you have to pee that bad, make sure you close and lock the door," Steve says.

I look over. He's not laughing at me. He's not scolding me. He is, in my mind, being helpful. That's not the older brother I normally deal with. He can't be being nice, can he?

"Yeah, I had to go bad."

"Just be careful, that's all. Good night, brother."

I am waiting for the admonishment, for the ridicule, for the taunting. It never arrives. I quietly get into bed, and go to sleep, this time, my mind not racing, my body not sexually excited. I am relatively content and relaxed, and I zonk out within 5 minutes and sleep soundly, not even hearing Steve's alarm, or him getting ready for work.

A few nights later, we have an almost repeat situation, pool game followed by looking at naked ladies followed by "having to pee." I closed the door this time, and all is well on that front. We played another game of pool afterwards, and neither of us broached the subject or would actually mention that what we are doing is a bit strange, and that we are not "peeing" when we use that restroom. The mention of "masturbation" or the more colloquial "jacking off" seems to be taboo, and I am fine with that to hide my own insecurities of the situation, as I am enjoying this time with a different side of my brother. Sharing this physical release normally done in private with him, albeit not 100% publicly, is making us closer, I believe; that of a shared secret both of us acknowledges but will not verbalize.

I went out after work the next Monday night and had a couple drinks with people from work. Just a couple, but enough to get a slight buzz. It was nice to get out and talk to people outside of work, work, work. I flirted and talked with a girl for about an hour, and as we chatted, she touched me quite a bit on my arm, and got a nice hug (and her number!) before I called it a night. After spending the last few weeks only seeing women naked on a page, seeing, talking, and feeling the softness of a real woman made me realize what I was missing over this past year, and not only was I a bit lonelier when I arrived home, but my mind kept playing over how nice she felt with her breasts pressed against my arm as we chatted, her smile, her smell, the way she played with her hair when she was nervous or unsure. I was a bit turned on by the time I arrived home at 1:30AM, replaying our conversation, and where this might go, and started imagining how things might progress, which led to a bit of fantasization.

I got undressed and laid down, and my mind kept playing through everything, and realized I was getting turned on, and began to sport an erection as I imagined future encounters. I reached down and grabbed myself and felt my hardness. I didn't realize how horny I really was, and I started to just squeeze and rub my stiff shaft. I really wanted to jack off so I could get to sleep, but Steve was sleeping right there across the room. I let go, hoping it would subside, but no such luck, so I threw off the covers and started to get up off the sofa and headed over to the dresser where the stash of porn was. I figured I would grab one and then go upstairs and get some relief so I could get some rest. I tried to quietly open the drawer and I see the lesbian one is on top when it wasn't before, so my mind makes the assumption that Steve tore one off using that one. I make a slight giggle sound and then pull off the top one before closing the drawer as quietly as I can to not wake him.

Apparently, I was not super successful in my slightly inebriated state at being inconspicuous, because Steve rolled over, looked at me, and rolled back over, "If you're going to jack off, just keep it down, I'm trying to sleep." I stopped in my tracks, and thought about it. I was planning on just going upstairs to the half bath to work on myself, but the thought of doing it across the room from him was intriguing, especially since was the first time either of us had crossed the line verbally that we knew each other were masturbating, removing the illusion that we were not aware of the other's actions, even though we were both all too aware.

"Ok, I'll be quiet," I whisper.

I go over to my sofa, and pull my pants down, releasing my hard cock, exposing it to the room. I reach down and grab myself, and think about the girl at the tavern, but my mind turns instead to the thought of playing with myself with my brother less than 20 feet away. The thrill of exposing and publically pleasuring myself starts to take control of me and I quicken my pace and my breathing gets heavy. I don't know why this is so exciting to me, as I have always been very shy and self-conscious about my nakedness with a usually opposite effect of decreasing my libido.