Hey all. If I could give you two pieces of advice, they'd probably be: 1) You just can't trust a twink, especially one who claims to be straight, and 2) Don't automatically assume your "straight" best friend is off-limits.
The former point I'd like to think I make in the story below. The second is the topic of my newest book, "We Hid It Too Well," which is available now: https://www.alexpendragon.com/we-hid-it-too-well/
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And as always, thank you for your emails - I love hearing from you! - and don't forget to sign up to my free newsletter (and get a free story for your trouble) at my site...
-Alex
"My Sister's Boyfriend Needed A Ride"
If I'd known, I probably wouldn't have done it. That's the best I can say.
I mean, I'd like to tell you I would totally have said no: That there's no way I would've agreed to give my little sister's boyfriend a ride home, had I realized the stupid, flirtatious banter between me and the eighteen-year-old wasn't just kidding around. But I can't say that, only that I'd have been more careful.
It doesn't help that I always thought Brandon was cute. I mean, cute in that couple-of-years-younger way, that going-out-with-your-sister way. Look, a little, and flirt, a little, but don't touch.
That's just the way it is with certain straight boys, though, especially those who know you're gay, and are game for a little back-and-forth when it gives everyone a laugh.
"Lookin' hot, dude," he'd call out at me as I walked through the kitchen, disturbing him and my sister in what seemed like one of their perpetual make-out sessions. He was a house fixture, the two of them inseparable.
"Sis, i'm borrowing your boy for ten," I'd fire back, and they'd break up laughing.
"Just ten, eh?"
I'd wink and say "Sure, a little thing like you," and watch as he pouted and flipped me the finger. Not that he could hold the sullen expression, not when a grin was easier, and then we'd all crack up again. All good fun, all harmless, right?
So I didn't blink when she asked if I could give Brandon a ride home, and I laughed along when he turned up the music and started doing this goofy dance in the passenger seat. Obviously trying to entertain me, in that "impress your girlfriend's older brother" way, that I guess seems so important when you're his age.
"Pull over here, man, I got something to show you" he said, so I slowed to the curb. It was getting on for dusk, a fall evening when the coming winter's dark is pulling in earlier and earlier. Barely any street lamps, just pockets of tungsten orange light in the town park where the cemetery and the lake are.
"Just down here," he said, pointing.
I walked ahead, wondering what the hell he needed to show me out in the middle of nowhere. I wasn't exactly late, but I'd told some friends I'd come over and it would cut things fine if I let myself get dragged around the park for what would probably turn out to be a gag.
We walked a couple minutes more, Brandon saying "Keep going, dude, almost there" to my back. In the end, I stopped suddenly and turned around, beginning to get pissed that he was wasting my time on some lame teenage joke.
Brandon was walking right behind me, and so when I pulled up without warning he bumped straight into my chest. I only just had time to say "Whoa, dude" when his hands were around my head, fingers sliding through my hair. Pulling my face in against his own, his mouth hungry on mine.
For a beat I let him kiss me, just a beat. Shock enough to freeze me for that split-second, my whole body tensed. And then I was pushing him away.
"What the fuck, man?" I was angry, and not just because I don't like surprises. "Seriously, dude, when you're meant to be with my fuckin' sister?" Talking about her out loud got me even madder.
Brandon was bouncing on the balls of his feet, one skinny lash of pent-up energy. His eyes locked on mine as I glared at him, my fists clenching as I tried to get a grip on just how furious I was. Then he lunged in a second time, hands gripping at my shirt this time, mouth half-missing mine as he tried for another kiss.
I shoved him again, harder this time, and he stumbled back and fell. Landing on his ass, with his arms thrown back to support him.
He looked up at me, breathing hard, lust and fear twisting his expression in equal measure. His narrow, almond-shaped face was white, paler than I'd seen him before; two slashes of red across his cheekbones, as he tried to compose himself.
"You're meant to be with my sister, and you skeeze on me?" I shouted, kicking the ground.
He flinched at that, like he wasn't sure whether I was going to kick him, too.
"I just thought..." he began, chest shuddering with each breath. "I just thought that... you always seemed so..." There was longing in his eyes, now, clouding out the fear somehow.
I frowned, and looked away.
"Shit, we were messin' around" I said, quieter but no less angry inside. But I felt guilty all of a sudden, as if this wasn't just Brandon's fuck up but somehow me being sleazy with my little sister's boyfriend, too.
"Please..." he whispered, voice trailing off.
I wasn't sure if he was pleading for my silence, to keep his clumsy attempt at seduction a secret, or if he was trying to persuade me to reconsider. Maybe he still thought I was planning on beating him up.
He glanced away, the sharp head movement flicking his sleek black fringe to cover one eye, then looked back up at me. "Please."
That's when I should've walked back to the car. I should've stepped over him, gone back to where we were parked, driven him home and told him to sort his fucking life out before my sister got hurt. Teenage kid, wrong idea; it was my job as the older, wiser brother to shock him out of acting stupid again.
Should've. Didn't.
He was like an animal, crouched there on the grass. Body frozen apart from his breathing. And, like I said, he was cute. Crisp blue eyes, lithe body squeezed into those stupid emo jeans. Identikit teenage urban rebel, but hot with it. I should've walked away.
"Take off that fuckin' stupid cardigan," I told him, instead.
He stared at me, not moving, until I flared my eyes at him, nudged my head forward slightly. His fingers whipping to the buttons, fumbling them open, pulling the thin fabric over his arms and off, discarded behind him on the path.
I looked his arms over, slim but toned in his black t-shirt. "You may as well take that off, too."
No pause this time, just hands pulling at the hem, tugging it over his head. For a moment his hair was a birds-nest of tangles, but after a quick shake it was back to its glossy sweep. Chest smooth, a few curves of adolescent muscle, and his nipples hard and tiny in the cooling air.
He was beautiful.
"Ah... fuck." I was talking to myself, really, Brandon back to motionless in front of me.
I dropped to a crouch, in the gap between his splayed legs, and then leaned forward Resting my weight on one arm to the side of his head, my other hand reaching behind. Fingers lacing in the shag of his hair and pulling his face up to mine, our lips meeting again.
He groaned - an earthy, primitive sound - and then we were kissing. His narrow lips brushed across mine, then parted as my tongue slipped in, dueling with his own. An arm easing around my neck as he pulled himself up against me, levering his goose-bumping chest to touch my shirt.
I tugged back, a fistful of hair, and his lips broke from mine. Nostrils flared as I held his face away from me. "You horny little fuck" I told him.
He broke out into a sly grin, eyes never leaving my own and still panting hard.
"More," he gasped.
I chuckled, soundless, and pulled his face in to mash against my own, our kissing hungry and wild. His fingers tugging at the buttons at my collar, reaching inside to play against my chest. He was making tiny keening noises now, eager and desperate.
I broke away again, pushed him down flat on his back in the grass, hard, a hand splayed on his chest to pin him in place. Reaching down, in-between his thighs, to grip his crotch. His cock was hard, pulsing.
Brandon tried to lift his chest, and I pushed harder to hold him down; even though his arms were free, he let them lie at his sides. Instantly submissive.
I looked down at the swollen lump beneath my palm, looked back up into Brandon's eyes. His expression hunted and aroused. Still holding him flat, I tugged open the button on his jeans, yanking at the denim to pop the fly open one stud at a time.
Digging between his legs, underneath him, I gripped the waistband at the small of his back and pulled, sliding fabric over the bubble of his ass. Exposing his tight red briefs: white-piping to be suitably, knowingly retro, but narrower at the sides than the classic underwear would be. The bulge of his cock snaked across toward his hip, and I kneaded him through the smooth material, pinching the thick head between finger and thumb.
He hissed, teeth clenched; bucked his hips against my hand as I alternated between long strokes down the full length of him and tweaking at the tip. Already I could feel stickiness as he leaked through the cotton.
"Hold your legs back" I told him, tone cold.
He slipped his hands behind his knees and pulled, spine arching and raising his ass to me. The tight waistband of his jeans cut across the bright red of his underwear, and nothing to stop me from peeling them both away to just under the jut of his cheeks.
So fucking smooth.
Kneeling forward now, I gripped his skinny hips and tilted him further up, dipping my head until I was barely an inch from his skin. His eyes were wide, glassy as he gazed up at me, face framed by hair and thighs. In one long, slow stroke I dredged my tongue up along his crack, feeling his hole twitch against the tip, then again and again. Finally feeling Brandon forcing his ass against me as I rimmed him, and able to use my hands to spread his cheeks wider and dig my face into him.
He squirmed at the unexpected attention, muffled "unf, unf" sounds squeaking out as I slobbered across his hole and then focused the point of my tongue into his hotness. Before long I had a finger in him, corkscrewing against the tight clench of naive muscles, and then a second, scissoring him looser.
I reached down, unfastened my belt and my jeans, and hooked my cock out of my boxer-briefs. I'd been stiff since he kissed me the second time, I realized, but now - his lithe body folded into a slutty little pretzel in front of me - I was harder than I could remember being for a long time. The head of my dick glistened with precum, and I stroked it around the flare and the first inch or two of my rigid shaft.
Kneeling up, I pulled Brandon back to me, easing his hips down so that his ass kissed at my cock. A little pressure, and I could feel his body tentatively pushing back at me, unused to the sensation. I rested my fingers against his lips, fingers that only seconds ago had been plying at his hole and then smearing my juices around my dick, and his tongue lapped out obediently, pulling them into his mouth and suckling.
I pushed again with my hips and he gasped, bit half-heartedly at my fingertip. I felt his ass resist and then succumb to me, hole spreading to accommodate my thickness. His eyes were wide again, the vibration of his groan sending shivers through my fingers, as I drove slowly into the spit-slicked eagerness.
"So fuckin' tight," I hissed at him.
He jerked his hips at me in response, another inch slipping inside and a whimper forced from his throat. I backed up a little, dragging myself through the clench of his fluttering muscles, and then shoved forward again. Brandon yelped as I buried myself deep into him.
I knew, when I felt his body hump back against mine, that he was ready. The glassiness in his eyes had gone, narrowed to a lust-fueled desperation. His legs, wrapped awkwardly around my back, pulled me further into him, as he rippled with gripping, sucking impatience.
I felt around the folds of material at his crotch for his cock, finding his briefs sodden and his erection tugged down at what must've been a near-painful angle. Tugging it free, I let his bucking thrusts drive his length through my fist.
"Is this what you wanted?" I demanded, punching each word home with an angrier jab. His hole twitching around me in response, his cock swelling as it forced its way between my fingers' grip.
I pulled it away from his groin, tugging against its swollen length, aiming at his face just in time to see him lose his load. Creamy, sticky white ropes lashing across his lips, his nose; gluey in the tangle of his hair.
"Eat it," I ordered, and the sight of his tongue lapping desperately at his own goo drove me over the edge. I buried myself into him, held there as I felt myself hurtle past the point of no return, dumping cum in four, five, six shuddering jolts.
For a moment we were locked there, Brandon's body a twisted comma coiled beneath my bigger, stronger form, until I sat back. Pulled my dick from his red, puffy hole.
It took a second for him to realize he could let go of his legs. Letting them slump down, thighs hamstrung with his bunched jeans and underwear. His cock had oozed its last against his abdomen, leaving sticky snail-trails in its wake, though his face was still the greater mess.
"Fuck," he muttered, one hand reaching down to his ass, tentatively exploratory, but then pausing at his cheek. Not quite daring to go further.
I looked away, suddenly self-conscious.
"All in my fuckin' hair," he grumbled, then giggled, a surprising and foreign sound. We made eye contact again, and he grinned at me, fingers cautiously teasing through his cum-soaked fringe.
"Plenty in your fuckin' mouth, too" I told him, eyebrow raised.
He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and in my ass," he said, with a snort. "Thanks for that."
I swatted his butt, the cheek sweaty against my palm. "Anytime."
He looked at me, with narrowed eyes. "Might have to take you up on that."
I tried not to think about my sister as he grinned at me, his smile growing wider the longer I stared at him. The longer I went without telling him no, without setting him straight on boundaries I'd never realized I needed to specify.
Brandon winked, and I couldn't help but suspect that silence had been taken as complicity.
"So, you gonna take me home?"
See what I mean about sneaky twinks? Sheesh, they're such a handful.
Don't forget to let me know what you thought - alexp336@gmail.com