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Subject: Brad Chapter 1 This work is copyrighted by the author the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission in writing from the author. Personal or private copies are permitted only if they are complete and include the copyright notice. Placing this story on a website or reproducing this story for distribution without the author's permission is a violation of that copyright. This is a story of a young male's relationship with an older male. It will contain some sexual scenes, but it is not totally about sex. The series of chapters are completely fictional and are the result of the author's fertile imagination. Any resemblance to any real person(s) is purely coincidental. The story contains consensual sexual behavior between a young male and an older male. It depicts unprotected sex and protected sex practices are the way to go if you plan to be around for years to come. May the flies of a thousand camels infest your armpits for no succumbing to the passions of your fertile imagination! If you are underage (below 18) or object to the subject matter, leave now as the door that let you in will also let you out. Also, don't forget if this story or series of stories make you quake in your shorts, donate! fty/donate.html Keep this great venue of erotica free and on-line! I love my brother Brad, he is everything I'm not. He's tall, built, and very handsome. If it isn't baseball, its football, then wrestling, he plays them all at high school. Varsity this and varsity that. He's six foot two, and a solid 170 of muscle, whereas I am only five nine, 120, and a book nerd. I am in my freshman year in high school and Brad is a senior. He even has a butch manly man name of Brad, what's mine, Raymond. Everyone except my grandmother calls me Ray. Brad is my idol, my everything. He is an awesome big brother, and I love him. When I say I love him it isn't just brotherly love, I have truly fallen in love with him. When it is time to pick him up from any practice in the past several years, I was the first out of the door in and into the backseat of the car. He would get in and my mother would say something like, *quot;Don't they have showers there?*quot;, or *quot;Is there a sweat gland you haven't used?*quot; It was always jokingly as he tossed his bag of clothes behind him for me to catch, which I would eagerly, and take in a deep smell before I put in the seat next to me. He smelled so good after practice, it was so hard not to. It's just Brad, Mom, and I, dad skated a long time ago when I was a baby. We are a team, Mom works hard at two jobs, Brad and I are on the honor roll, and the sperm donor (whoops I meant dad) pays his monthly fee. When Mom is not around, it is just the dynamic duo as Brad calls us, just he and I. I like it that way, just the three of us. I met the sperm donor, and he tried twice or three times to `be a dad' and failed miserably. He doesn't even send birthday cards or Christmas gifts anymore, like it mattered as they were nowhere what istanbul travesti we wanted or needed. So, Mom saved up and got Brad a car a week ago, really nothing special, in fact it has been in the shop trying to get it ready for him. She swore me to secrecy, and I haven't said a peep. She told me that Brad will be able to drive to school and take me, so we didn't have to ride the bus anymore. My mom is so cool. When Brad goes to practice, I want to go and watch, and I will be the gear boy for him on the way home. Mom always picks up Brad in-between jobs and drops us off at home, dinner is always made and frozen so that all we must do is heat it up and munch down. She even makes Brad's high on the protein as we can't afford protein powder or that other crap that the rest of his teams' uses. Mom stops at the curb this time as she is always running late, and Brad leans in and gives her a kiss on the cheek, and I am out the back door being the gear boy. She always bids us her love and away she goes. I always follow the barefoot hunk into the house after football practice because I like seeing his shirt that is always sweat-soaked, and side-less, hug his muscular triangle shape. His football pants are a dream, as they really frame his ass so well. He turns to see where I am and lifts an arm to shield his eyes from the sun, only to show a fan of wet hair under his arm, *quot;Come on, it's the dynamic duo tonight again!*quot; He says to me as I struggle a little with his pads and other heavy stuff in his practice bag. He always waits until mom is around the corner then picks the bag out of my hand and pulls me to his side with his arm resting on my shoulder. His scent is always very strong, but I love it. I smile and we walk together behind the house to the back door. All the while I get to smell him, and see his nipple slip a little out from behind his shirt and see the hairs that encircle it. We get inside and he tosses his bag by the washer and starts to strip, this is an everyday show for me. He peels off his socks and then his remnants of a shirt, and pulls his football shorts off. He never goes any further than that, and always leaves his compression shorts on until he gets to our room. Yep, you heard it, our room. The house is a tiny two-bedroom bungalow, we can't afford much else. I always lay down on my stomach on my twin and ask him to tell me all about his practice, I do care, but I like the show more. He always peels off his compression shorts and tosses them into the hamper and continues to tell me about practice standing there nude. When I say that Brad is my idol, I mean in the Greek God Apollo idol. He stands there naked, sweat soaked, and tells me about all the hits and catches he has made. His nudity has never really been an issue, as he never wears a shirt and is always either in his boxer-briefs or commando in his shorts. He stands there and as he talks, I lay on my stomach to hide my rock-hard cock. He is so animated kadıköy travesti when he talks, and his cock and balls dance around not to mention his muscled body flexing and relaxing with every move. *quot;Time for me to shower and I'm gonna kick your ass at fortnight!*quot; He said turning and bending over to find a semi-clean towel. When he does he shows of his furry ass with a hair pattern that makes you draw your eye to his crack. His muscular legs are parted a little and I can see his nuts hanging down. As he heads off to the shower, I get up and grab his compression shorts and shove them in my face, savoring every smell, no matter how pungent. Brad and I have had many an evening after our homework has been done where we sack out on the couch and watch some dumb movie. He has always held me under his arm, and I have woken many a time with my head in his lap. He always smiles at me and says I can go back to sleep. He has forsaken girlfriends to be my big brother, and he is always there for me. He has no clue that I idolize him and want to smell every smell of his and run my hand across his chest and bury my face into his crotch. Shower is done and a freshly dried Brad saunters into the room naked and grabs a pair of boxer briefs. These briefs are a godsend as I don't like the shorts as they hide too much. These frame him well and are a size too small for him which is a bonus for me as they frame his cock and balls so well, and for some reason he always hangs to the left. *quot;Get off that bed and get ready for an ass-whoopin!*quot; *quot;I would rather watch a movie, if there is anything on.*quot; I say, thinking back to yester year. *quot;Alright, dinner first!*quot; He says grabbing my ankle and pulling me roughly onto the floor. I get up, and adjust myself so my pecker doesn't show that it hard, and follow him. It's easy when there is not much there to hide. I follow him into the kitchen and find him standing there looking in the freezer, and my eyes immediately search out his nipple that is in view and watch it tighten up from the cold. He grabs some of mom's *quot;Heat N Eat*quot; meals she leaves, and he throws it in the microwave. A couple minutes later `poof' spaghetti and meatballs. We each grab a bowl full and head to the couch to see what's on. Sitting there watching him flip channels as I scarf down my food, he finds something ninja on the tube and starts inhaling his food. When I'm done, I put my bowl on the table and nestle up to my brother, who just finished his bowl. On cue, his arm goes up and I put my head on the side of his chest and he rests his arm on my back. The once pungent aroma of him has changed to the axe body wash he uses, and his armpit hair tickles my ear. I lay there not interested in the show, just the feeling of a full belly, and the heartbeat I hear from my brother. I get a little adventurous and put my arm across his waist and let it lay there, there was no reaction. *quot;Do you want me to start a load of your football bakırköy travesti gear for tomorrow?*quot; I ask into his pec. *quot;Don't worry about it, I'll start a load later Ray.*quot; He says into my hair and tightens his hold on me for a moment. *quot;Are you sure? I mean it's getting kinda late.*quot; I say once again into the side of his pec, relishing the heat that comes off of him mixed with the latent sweat scent mixture with his Axe bodywash. *quot;If you're tired, just go to bed.*quot; He says, once again tightening his hold on me for a second and releasing. *quot;It is so boring without you here on Saturdays, I don't want to miss any of you.*quot; I say, not really realizing I said it in such a cooing and desperate fashion. *quot;What's to miss, you know I'll always be here for ya, bro.*quot; He says into my hair and uses his free hand and holds mine that is draped around his waist, which is only an inch from the head of his cock. *quot;I mean this, I miss this.*quot; I said as I wiggle out of his hand and grab his side and hug tighter. His muscles feel so good under my fingers and pressed against my face. He turns and lies back on the couch, and pulls me in-between his legs and has me rest my head on his solid abs. His cock rubbing against my chest. He just lays there and for us this is nothing odd, I have done it for years. It's just been the past couple years that I have started to realize the feel of his bush of pubes, and the thickness of his sausage of a cock. *quot;Ray, you're my little brother, I'll always love ya dude. Remember last week when we both fell asleep like this and I woke us up with a boner, and you were so shocked.*quot; He said laughing a bit, causing my head to bounce on his flat stomach. *quot;Yeah I know, it was trying to find a way into my mouth since it creeped up and out of your briefs.*quot; I said, my face reddening. *quot;I'm gonna go and start your laundry, stay right here, I'll be back.*quot; I said as I have to use my hands on his hips as I get up, and I notice his normally flaccid cock has grown some while I was laying on it. *quot;Ray, you don't have to, I'll get it.*quot; He said, eyes glued to the television. *quot;I got it.*quot; I say as I walk away from him wanting a few minutes alone with his gear. I get to the laundry room and the aroma is deafening to the senses. I unzip his bag and pull out his pads and helmet, set them aside and start slowly putting things in the washer, only after I rub them on my nose and smell each item. *quot;You got clean compression shorts for tomorrow?*quot; I holler and get a negative grunt from him. I go down the hall with glee and get in our dirty clothes to pull out a couple pairs that are in there. Each one I put to my face and smell and lick the crotch, tasting the saltiness of his sweat, and heady aroma of his testosterone filled cock and balls. I can't wait until I hit that point in life where I can smell like that. *quot;Whatcha doin?*quot; I hear directly behind me as I am licking the last of the shorts in my hand. I froze in mortal fear. Remember that sprayed semen does not work really well with electronics, so be careful reading my stories that you don't ruin a keyboard, phone, tablet or another vulnerable device. Email me anytime, as I respond to all emails that are legitimate. Keep mbl/