BiGuy

My wife's brother stayed with us this past summer. Originally I
wasn't too keen on having this 19 year old street tough around,
but as things developed, I'm glad my wife talked me into it.
She's 22 and I'm 23, by the way.

When Tim arrived, he looked exactly like I remembered him.
Leather jacket, tight jeans, my height (5'9"), brown hair (I'm
blond), steel-blue eyes (mine are green), macho-man moustache
(alright, I have one of those too). I don't think he was
particularly eager to be there either but he had been having the
same problems at home that my wife had been having before she got
married, which is I think why I relented and let him come stay
with us.

After he'd been there for a few days and we'd gotten the chance
to talk over dinner and shit, I realized he wasn't such a bad
kid, just misunderstood. We started getting friendly and I think
he wanted to treat me like an older brother or father-figure or
something like that, but I wasn't sure I felt too comfortable
about that, because I noticed that I was starting to get turned
on by him. He always walked around in tight jeans that showed a
considerable basket, and one morning we bumped into each other on
the way to the bathroom...he had just gotten up and was in his
briefs (like me), only he had a major-league piss-hard going. Tim
had a big dick, and it turned me on.

I wasn't sure what to do about this. I'd been into both men and
women but gave up screwing around with guys once I got married.
I'd so far managed to keep that vow to myself, but it got real
tough at times and this attraction to Tim was the toughest test I
faced so far.

I thought I had it all under control for about a week. One night
I came home late from a job and the house was dark. I went up to
the bedroom where my wife was already asleep and got ready for
bed (which consisted of stripping down to my briefs), and was
just about to hop in when I felt I had to go take a leak. I
padded softly down the hall, and was surprised to notice the
light from Tim's room (really my den), still on. I wondered if
anything was wrong, so I changed course and walked over to the
doorway.

Tim was laying there on the fold-out bed with his dick in his
hand, his balls tucked under the waistband of his briefs, and he
was whacking off. From the angle he was at (his head up toward
the doorway), I had a perfect view of him, but he couldn't see
me.

I stood still, not making a move or sound, and watched him pull
off. His dick was -so- big and thick, and he was really getting
into jerking it off. At one point he stuck his left hand down
into his briefs and grabbed onto his balls while he kept whacking
off with his right hand. Christ he looked hot doing that. I know
I was running a rod, but I didn't want to touch it - my ethics
were involved, and I knew if I did, I wouldn't be able to stop
myself, and besides, I didn't even know if he was into it.

I was about to throw all caution to the wind when he arched his
back up on the bed and groaned and his hot cream started spitting
out of the tip of his dick, splattering on his stomach. He held
that position for a minute or two, milking his balls dry. Before
he could turn around and catch me watching, I beat a hasty
retreat to the bathroom and whacked myself off into the sink. It
only took two or three strokes before I pumped my own load out.

That was on a Wednesday. The following Saturday my wife had to
work but I didn't, so I slept in late. Knowing it was just us
guys around the house, I didn't bother to get dressed when I
finally got up and padded into the kitchen for a late breakfast,
wearing just my briefs. Tim was still asleep but I guess I made
enough noise to wake him up, because he walked into the kitchen a
few minutes later in his underwear too. His dick was stiff and he
was idly scratching his nuts as he asked what was for breakfast.
I told him and then said I'd set a place for him while he went to
the bathroom.

He came back a few minutes later, his hair combed and minus the
hard-on, but still in his briefs. We bullshitted around while we
ate, and finally adjourned to the living room after I rinsed the
breakfast dishes and put them in the dishwasher. It promised to
be a warm day, so I wasn't in a hurry to get dressed and neither
was he it seemed. I didn't mind, but I should have been more
careful.

We both sat on the couch facing the TV, and Tim used the remote
control to flip around the channels. It was pretty obvious that
there was nothing worth watching on, and Tim asked what I had in
videotapes. I pointed to the rack on the wall and said he could
take his pick, but after walking over to it and checking it out,
he said, "No, not those - do you have any *good* movies?"

Oh. Those. I told him I did and he asked if we could watch one,
pointing out this his sister (my wife) wouldn't be back for at
least another six or seven hours. I couldn't come up with any
good reason not to watch - that's something straight guys do
together after all - so I finally agreed and picked out one of my
favorites. I figured that if I have to watch straight porn with
Tim, I might as well watch a hot one.

The movie was hot enough to make me regret that I hadn't put on a
pair of pants because it wasn't long before I threw a rod. I
refused to look directly at Tim (I didn't want to let him see me
looking), but I think he had one too and he was also in his
briefs. Try as I might I couldn't sit in that rigid position for
too long and I eventually had to shift to be comfortable. When I
did, not only did the bulge my hard cock was making in my briefs
become ultra-obvious, but I caught sight of Tim. He had his hand
cupped around a his bulge too, and as soon as he saw me
resettling, he did the same thing. His cock-bulge was enormous;
if he moved the wrong way I was sure the head of his dick would
have poked out above the waistband of his briefs, but he kept it
angled so it didn't.

I thought I could be real cool about it and check him out out of
the corner of my eye without him seeing me so every now and then
I glanced over at him. His cock was really stiff and tenting out
the briefs, and once or twice I caught him lightly rubbing it
through the cotton. I figured that if he felt comfortable doing
that I could too and it sure felt good.

I kept checking him out of course and once I caught him checking
*me* out. That was wild, but I figured it was natural curiousity
- guys check each other out in locker rooms all the time.
Needless to say, when I caught him he caught me too, but neither
of said anything. We caught each other a few more times but
neither of us said anything, until after about the fifth time Tim
said, "Bet you keep the girls happy with that thing, huh?"

I was so wrapped up in trying to play it cool that I didn't even
know what he meant for a minute, but then I laughed and said that
no one had ever complained. I looked at him openly (resisting the
urge to stare and grab), and said that I bet he kept his
girlfriend happy too.

"Yeah, no one's ever complained," he grinned back. Now it started
to get a little strange. We were both watching the movie and
obviously getting turned on by it, yet we were both looking at
each other from time to time too. I knew why I was interested in
him, but I was sure he was just looking at me out of curiousity.

Nothing more was said, and when the movie ended, I headed off to
the bedroom to put on some clothes (and whack off real fast), and
I think he beat off in his room (my den). Nothing interesting
happened the rest of the week either.

The following Saturday my wife was at work again, so the first
part of the morning was replay of the last Saturday. Once again
Tim talked me into putting on a movie and once more we both got
hard watching it and once more we both watched each other, at
first surreptitiously and then openly. This time though Tim asked
if he could jerk off. I was in a quandry. As a straight married
man, I shouldn't feel uncomfortable about seeing another's dick,
but I didn't want Tim to know exactly how comfortable I was with
the idea. I said yes though, and he quickly shed his briefs,
dropping them on the carpet.

I watched him openly as he slowly fisted his cock not three feet
from me. He had his legs spread wide and he was slouched back on
the couch, his left hand cupping his balls and his right hand
wrapped around the shaft. Up close and in good light for the
first time, I could see that he was cut and it was a good 8" long
and pretty thick, thicker than mine anyway.

I kept rubbing mine through my briefs though until he suggested
that I do the same thing, adding, "It's just us guys right?" I
agreed and pulled my briefs down too, kicking them off and
accidentally sending them sailing across the room. I got
comfortable then, assuming the same position he was in, scrunched
down, legs spread wide, right hand on my dick. I kept the left
hand on my thigh, though, and occasionally reached up to scratch
my chest, trying to play with my nipple without being obvious.

I failed, though. He said, "I do that too." I asked what, and he
said that he thought it felt good to play with his nipples when
he jerked off. He was quiet then for a while and seemed to be
watching me more than the movie. I pretended not to notice.
Finally he said, "Joe, if I tell you something, will you promise
to keep it a secret?"

I said sure, adding that I liked him and would have no reason to
break a confidence - and besides, he couldn't say anything that
awful. He said, "I don't know about that. You like me, right?" I
said I did. He said, "You won't anymore." I said something like
"Huh?"

He said, "Joe, I'm gay."

Ugh. I didn't know what to say and I guess he saw an expression
on my face that he interpreted as hatred. "See," he said, "I told
you you wouldn't like me anymore. Just don't tell __________ (my
wife), OK?" His bone had gone soft now and he seemed to be on the
verge of tears, but I was harder than ever. "Tim," I said, "I
still like you. Why should that matter?"

He *was* crying now. He said, "I thought when I told you and you
realized that I was just watching this movie with you to see you
get hard, I thought you'd hate me."

Oh lord. My hard-on was going soft now too. I pulled him close to
me, one arm over his shoulder. "Tim," I said, "first, thank you
for having the courage to tell me that. I know it wasn't easy."
He brushed a tear from his eye. "Second," I continued, "I don't
hate you and it doesn't bother me. I'm complimented that you
think I'm attractive." He stopped sniffling, but his body
language said he was still very nervous. "Third," I said, "why
wouldn't I still like you? You're still the same kid that's been
living in my house for the last two weeks, aren't you?"

He sat up, not crying but still looking miserable. "Joe, you're a
married guy. I thought if you knew I was hot for you, you'd go on
this macho trip and deck me, throw me out, and then tell everyone
what a faggot brother in law you have."

I pulled him back toward me again..."Come here," I said. "Now,
listen to this and listen good. Anybody with a brain in his head
doesn't judge people by who or what they sleep with. If you're
gay, that's OK. It doesn't bother me, and it doesn't bother me
that you're attracted to me."

"You mean it?" he asked.

"Yes." I took a deep breath. "You see, Tim, I'm 'bi,' and I've
been pretty turned on by you too." The look on his face - or the
series of looks - was precious. It went from shock to disbelief
back to shock and then to something else I can't quite describe.
It must have been lust, for in the next instant, he grabbed my
semi-soft dick with one hand and planted a big wet kiss right on
my lips.

Even if I'd wanted to stop then I couldn't. My cock shot up hard
as a rock, and he kept stroking it, stopping only to run his hand
up and down my torso, then finally back to my dick. He broke the
kiss - leaving me breathless - and nuzzled my ear. I reached
under him and grabbed hold of his dick which had regained its
former impressive size. He groaned a little when I first fisted
it and humped my hand, which suited me just fine.

I kept it there and held onto his shaft while he ran his tongue
down from my ear down my neck and down the center of my chest. He
licked each of my nipples (not for long enough), and then trailed
down the center, sticking his tongue into my navel (that made me
gasp), and finally around down to my dick. Before I could stop
him he deepthroated me and then I didn't want to stop him.

In spite of the fact that I wanted his dick in my hand, he
squirmed away from me and went on his knees on the floor, between
my spread legs. He did a real good job sucking my cock, slurping
up and down the shaft, licking my balls, nuzzling the inside of
my thighs. It felt so goddamn good! He went back to sucking my
cock and I started running my fingers through his hair, humping
into his face, shoving my cock down his throat. I thought I was
enjoying it and it seems I was right because he started
deepthroating me really fast and then I felt his load shoot out
onto my leg. That load of hot cream hitting my leg triggered my
orgasm, I pumped a lot of stored-up jism down his throat. He
couldn't keep up with it, he started to choke and it really
looked hot seeing my cream drip out of his mouth around my shaft.
Some of it even got into that macho moustache of his which I'm
sure turned me on enough to pump out a little bit more come than
usual.

When I finished creaming, he slumped back onto the floor, laying
flat on his back and I noticed the movie had run out (we never
noticed). I went down on my hands and knees and kissed him, and
then suggested that we get cleaned up.

Nothing was said that between us that entire week, but we
exchanged sly glances every now and then. We both were still
interested in each other and that following Saturday, as soon as
my wife was out the door to work, he was into my bedroom - and I
was wide awake and ready for him. We kept that up the whole
summer.

My problem now is, half the time I fuck my wife, I think of
getting it on with Tim. I don't know what to do about it except
to wait until he comes back next summer. And I can't wait.