When he woke up in the morning, Sebastijan was still lying next to him, his open lips proffering an intimate kiss, his cock hard if no longer warm—and now it did not go limp at the sight of Slavko’s withered blossom but satisfied him to the full. After a shared breakfast, Slavko went out and bought the biggest freezer he could find.
AND HIS BROTHER CAME TOO
Tony Pike
The following events took place in the English university city of Oxford, nearly thirty years ago: a time when no gay guy needed to sheathe himself in rubber when he fucked his fellow men. According to the law of the time all individuals involved should have been twenty-one or more. In fact they were all eighteen or less….
If David had told Gary that he fucked his own little brother, Gary would have been surprised as well as titillated. But what he actually told him, beginning in the bar of the White Horse and ending up sitting on the bank of the River Cherwell in the autumn dusk, surprised and titillated him even more. David’s little brother Mark, now sixteen, actually fucked David, or had done when he was younger, though they hadn’t done it in the last year or so. By the time David had told Gary how this had come about (which, unfortunately, there isn’t space to detail here), they were both mightily excited and were obliged to unzip each other where they sat and give their substantial cocks relief with crossed hands. Inevitably they both spunked heavily over their jeans and were glad of the oncoming darkness when they walked back to college, saying hallo in the streets to other students whom they knew but who—with luck—would not notice in the gloom the still wet stains on their denims. They had been spotted on the riverbank, however, by the mysterious blond twins, who had walked by on the other side of the water and hailed them with a wave—but they weren’t sure what, if anything, the twins had actually seen.
Gary and David had only been at Oxford for a couple of weeks. Both freshmen, aged eighteen, they had clicked at once, fallen for each other, and were now almost as inseparable as the blond twins, especially at bedtime. (The twins’ bedtime habits were unknown.) Now back in David’s room and getting ready for David’s narrow bed, Gary said, “Your brother sounds a character. I’d like to meet him sometime.”
“Did I forget to tell you?” David answered. “Mark’s got an interview here in two weeks’ time; he’s hoping for a place next year. He’ll be coming up for a couple of nights. You’ll get to meet him then.”
But before that could happen David left Oxford (and Gary) to spend a weekend at home: it was his father’s birthday, and he felt he couldn’t not go, since it coincided with a weekend. “You’ll have to find someone else to play with while I’m away,” he told Gary. “Though I can’t immediately imagine who.” They had talked a bit about who among their fellow students might be gay or at any rate up for having sex with other boys but had drawn no definite conclusions.
“I’m sure I’ll find someone,” Gary assured him good humoredly. “You, no doubt, will be having it away with baby brother Mark while you’re at home.”
“Shouldn’t be a bit surprised,” David answered with a little smile.
In the end it was not that Gary found someone, but that someone found Gary. He was sitting alone in the Junior Common Room bar on the Friday evening, when he was joined by a petite and pretty young man with cheeky dark eyes and a mop of thick, black curls. They’d met a few times during Freshers’ Week, and Gary remembered that his name was Rob. He had not forgotten that he’d thought him decidedly attractive, before his attention had been so comprehensively distracted by the arrival of David.
The diminutive Rob turned out to have a diminutive cock as well, sweet and dainty, with a tiny foreskin, and it was furnished with a solitary ball, quail’s egg sized. It had a habit, Gary discovered, of coming prematurely and unexpectedly, without needing the coaxing of anyone’s hand, as soon as Rob got undressed for sex. This distressed and embarrassed the inexperienced Rob at first, but Gary, discovering that Rob was very quickly able to recover himself and shoot a further milky load in more controlled circumstances just minutes later, was able to reassure him and calm his anxieties. All that, Gary said, was just fine. When, on the Saturday, Rob first penetrated Gary with his rapid-reaction little penis, it tickled Gary like a finger-fuck, but it made Gary spout his own spring of sperm pretty quickly all the same. The two of them got on famously and stayed together—mostly in Gary’s bed—for the whole weekend.
Rob finally left Gary’s room toward the end of Sunday afternoon. “I know you said David won’t mind, and that he told you to find someone else for the weekend,” Rob said. “But I’m sure he’d prefer not to come back and find that someone actually in your bed. Even if he has been rogering his own brother all weekend. As you tell me he does.”
“I told you his brother rogers him.” Gary was anxious to set the record straight. “Or used to do. He’s never fucked his brother, apparently. Mind you, that was before this weekend. Things may have changed. He’d never fucked anyone before he fucked me at the beginning of term.”
Before Rob finally left, Gary told him, “We’ll have a return match sometime soon. Maybe David might like to stick his oar in too…metaphorically speaking.”
On his return, David wanted to hear all of Gary’s adventures—if he’d had any. And Gary regaled him with the story of his weekend and Rob’s. David sounded more than a bit interested in future possibilities with Rob, but he glanced rather doubtfully at Gary’s single bed. It was cozy enough for two, he thought, but he rather wondered whether it would comfortably accommodate three.
“Rob’s very small,” Gary reminded him optimistically. “Anyway, what about you?”
A grin spread all the way from David’s left ear to his right. “I evened up the score at last,” he said. “I fucked my little brother.”
In less than a week that famous little brother was in Oxford for his interview. He arrived in the afternoon of the day before, and was promptly shown to one of the spare bedrooms that interview candidates were usually given. (Something that both Gary and David remembered from the year before.) After that he was taken to meet Gary. “You two are so alike!” was the first thing Mark blurted out after they had shaken hands. “David never told me. You might be cousins. Or, if your hair wasn’t different colors, almost twins.”
Gary, in his turn, was as surprised by Mark’s appearance as Mark had been by his. Where David was a little more than medium height and of a slim if muscular build, Mark was rather short and stocky. But if small, he gave the appearance of being pretty strong. His face was round and open, his eyes blue and wide and friendly. He had a small snub nose. He was wearing the top part of his school uniform: blazer, shirt and a tie, which was loose at the neck. It was a bit of a compromise though. Below, he had on tight blue jeans which neatly hugged his sturdy thighs and calves, and he wore trainers on his feet. He looked like a cross between a real schoolboy and a rent boy whose gambit is to dress like one. More than anything else though, the kid oozed sex appeal from every pore.
“Wow,” said Gary, forgetting his manners in his surprise. “You look good, kid. David forgot to tell me what a handsome boy you are.”
“He failed to pass on the same information regarding you,” said the boy, “although he told me pretty well everything else. Well, I mean, he left out a few other things, I guess.”
Gary forbore to ask what those things might be. Size of dick, perhaps? That he was circumcised? And that when he masturbated, he preferred to do it slowly?
David spoke. “I was wondering if you could look after Mark for me this evening. Be my stand-in and give him a tour of Oxford. Show the kid the inside of a few pubs. Not too many, mind—he does have an interview tomorrow.”
Gary found his heart cheering at the prospect of an evening with a cute kid who seemed to have a nice personality, and about whose sexual habits he already knew more than a little. And clearly, Mark had more than an inkling about Gary’s own. It promised to be a fun evening. “Sure,” he told David. “Of course I’ll do that, if Mark wo
uld like it too.” Mark nodded and grinned. “But what about you? Won’t you come with us?”
David looked a bit sheepish for a moment. But only for a moment. “Actually,” he said, “I’ve got something on with your little friend Rob.”
“Oh, have you, now?” Gary said archly and saw Mark catch his eye and wink at him. He sniggered in reply but asked no further questions.
Oxford after dark, on an early autumn evening, took on the look it had worn a hundred, two hundred—in places six hundred—years ago. Old-fashioned streetlamps in antique cast-iron frames cast gleaming glances along shadowy streets. Gothic windows peered darkly or with a lemony light. Even the names of the streets that Gary took Mark wandering through seemed to come alive with the ghosts of history: Friars’ Entry, Longwall Street, Holywell. Fearsome gargoyles looked down at them from the pediments of the Sheldonian Theatre, and moonlight winked and flittered through the traceried battlements of St. Mary’s church. Gary felt oddly proud of his new charge: his lovely friend’s very pretty, chunky little brother, two years younger than himself, walking at his side in his very tight blue jeans, the top of his head level with Gary’s eyes. And not least of the attractions of this novel situation was the fact that Mark seemed more than ready to steer the conversation, at every opportunity, round to the subject of sex.
They sampled the wares of a number of the city center’s pubs: the Bear in Blue Boar Street, the Lamb and Flag in the Broad, the White Horse in the Corn. “I suppose I owe it to you,” Mark said to Gary, “that I got fucked by David last time he came home.”
“I hope you won’t hold that against me,” Gary said. They were sitting at the same candlelit table in the alcove in the White Horse where, a few weeks earlier, David had begun to tell Gary about his teenage adventures with Mark.
“Quite the reverse actually,” said Mark now. “He’d never fucked anyone before he first did you. Now he’s kind of got the bug. Couldn’t get enough of it with me.” He leaned across the table conspiratorially, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s busy ramming his rod into little Rob up in his bedroom even as we speak.” He leaned back again. “Anyway, I’m not complaining. I’d never been fucked before. My friends at school mostly wank me, and I them. Which is great. But fucking’s kind of extra isn’t it?”
Gary blinked—this was all pretty frank from a schoolboy he’d only just met and in a crowded pub—but he had to agree that it was.
“I’m hoping I’ll get a fuck from you this evening,” Mark went blithely on. “Though maybe that’s wishful thinking. First meeting and everything. But at the very least I’m looking forward to seeing your cock. David tells me it’s very nice.”
“It’s very much like his, to be honest,” said Gary. “In color, shape and size. Seven and three-quarter inches each. The only major difference is that he’s got a foreskin and I haven’t. A minor source of regret, that is,” Gary admitted. “I’m slightly jealous of his.”
“Well, I hope you won’t be too jealous of me then,” said Mark. “I’ve got a foreskin too. I’ll show you later.”
Gary smiled. “I’ll look forward to that. And if you’re looking forward to getting fucked by me tonight—well, I was a bit surprised to be told that but…after such an invitation, I can hardly refuse. Though maybe your brother won’t be too happy about it.”
“I already told him that was my ambition for this evening. He told me not to count on it, but he wished me luck all the same.” Mark took a swig of lager and then looked around the crowded bar. “It’d be fun to do it right here, wouldn’t it?” he said, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “In the middle of the floor. In front of all these people. Cheering us on.”
Gary laughed. “You’re an outrageous boy! Nice idea though, except the nice people wouldn’t be cheering us on; they’d be unceremoniously chucking us out and calling the police. Fantasy is one thing; real life is quite another.”
“Pity,” said Mark. “Hey, guess what?”
“What now?” said Gary with mock weariness.
“I’ve just pulled my cock out of my jeans. It’s really stiff already.”
There was no way Gary could check whether this was true. A heavy oak table lay between them, and he would have had to either stand up and peer over it or get down on his knees on the floor and peer up from underneath. Both moves would have drawn a lot of attention from the other customers in the pub, and attention was the last thing Gary wanted when he was escorting a boy who, according to the law, was too young to be drinking beer in a pub at all. “You’re a very naughty boy,” he said instead, smiling.
“Dare you to get yours out,” Mark said. “Go on.”
“It’s all very well for you,” Gary told him firmly, “snugly hidden behind the table. But I’m sitting in full public view. You can see it later. I promise.”
Mark nudged the conversation a little way back the way it had come—though not all that far. “About this fuck then,” he said. “So you’ve vetoed the floor of a public bar. Pity about that, but I suppose I’ll have to live with it. So, anywhere then. Where do you recommend?”
“I suggest the bed in my bedroom,” Gary said. “Or in your brother’s room if he happens to be occupying my room with Rob. Or else in the guest room that’s been earmarked for you.”
“Bit tame though,” Mark said, sounding a little disappointed. “Like being back at home. Whereas here we are in Oxford. There’s riverbanks—like where you and David do it—I know that ’cause David told me. “Or,” a thought appeared to strike him, “we could do it standing up in the street. You could do me up against a wall. Bet you haven’t done that with David.”
Actually that was true. Gary had never done it up against a wall with anyone. He made a mental note to remedy the omission with David some time soon. On the other hand, doing it in a more or less public place with this kid… It was just too dangerous to consider. And yet…Gary felt his cock stirring in his jeans. He wondered if Mark really did have his dick out under the table, stiff. He found himself impatient now to see it.
But not quite as impatient as Mark was. He drained the last of his beer. “Let’s go,” he said. “It’s nice just walking in the dark old streets. We could—er—sort of stroll around a bit and see what happened. Couldn’t we?”
Laughing, Gary nodded his acceptance, drained down his own glass and got to his feet. “If you have got your cock out,” he told Mark, “then for god’s sake put it away before you stand up. I’m not walking to the door with you if you’ve got a little erection poking out of your flies.”
“Or even a big one,” Mark said. He made a movement under the table and stood up. He was perfectly respectably zipped up, Gary was relieved to see. But he wasn’t displeased to see a promising looking bulge in the boy’s crotch: a quite long and substantial ridge, in the ten o’clock position. Gary permitted himself a comment. “You dress to the right, I see.”
They walked out into the balmy air of an evening that spoke of an Indian summer still lingering in this early autumn term. Along Cornmarket Street (the Corn), up Longwall Street and then left into the long and winding lane, dark and unpeopled, that is called Queen’s Lane at one end but has metamorphosed into New College Lane by the time you get to the other. Both sides of the lane were formed by high stone walls of great antiquity, protecting the grounds of the colleges that lay behind them. At intervals there were streetlamps, which shone dimly, their light-pools not quite extending far enough to overlap their neighbors’ and so leaving little pockets in between them of relative darkness.
“Should have had a piss before we left the pub,” Mark announced. “Need to go now.” And he began to fiddle with his flies.
“Me too,” said Gary and began to unzip his own. It was true that he too needed to pee, but he was also pleased that the time had come to catch a glimpse of Mark’s young cock at last and—to be honest—he would enjoy showing off his own at the same time.
But Mark surprised him beyond all expectation. H
e didn’t just unzip, but pulled his jeans—no underwear lay beneath them—about halfway down his thighs all in one go, so that out sprang his dick, he revealed his sturdy tight-furled balls, and at the same time he exposed his pretty bottom to the night air. And of all those revelations, the greatest—and the greatest surprise—was the size of young Mark’s cock. Which (no surprise here, though) had popped out fully stretched and hard and at once was pissing, like a fire hose.
“My god, you’re massive!” Gary blurted out. It was true. Never had he seen such a heavyweight piece of apparatus attached to so small a body. Back at school, he had been more than impressed by his roommate, Chris, who, at the age of sixteen, had sported a dick that was out of all proportion to his body size. But this boy’s equipment knocked Chris’s impressive dimensions into the proverbial cocked hat. Mark’s cock was considerably bigger than Gary’s own. (Which meant it was bigger than Mark’s brother David’s, since that—give or take a foreskin—was the twin of Gary’s.) It was as big, at least, as the two biggest numbers he’d been privileged to handle: they’d belonged to Martin, the one-time head boy of his school, and to Michel, boyfriend of his former fuck-buddy, Pete. Perhaps Michel’s had had the edge where length was concerned. He’d boasted eight and a half inches, and Mark probably didn’t have that (yet). But its girth at the base was far in excess of anything Michel could boast of, even at maximum stretch. No wonder David had stopped letting Mark fuck him a year or two ago.
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