Risk Takers: a touch of taboo

by Nicky James

  “Sure, why not? It ain’t gonna scare me off, Den. It’ll take more than watching my brother get skewered for me to seek therapy. Believe me. I just want to be sure you’re on board.”

  “I am. Now move because you’re killing my fun.”

  Before I stood, I swiped a finger over his chin where there was a dribble of jizz, and I showed him. “Missed some.”

  Without warning, Denver sucked it off, eyes steady on my face as he twisted and wrapped his tongue around the digit. I felt it all the way in my balls.

  “Jesus, that was hot,” a guy behind me said.

  I chuckled and removed my thumb from my brother’s mouth, patting his cheek. “There’s a devil inside you. I like seeing it. Have fun.”

  I moved out of the way but didn’t go far. Something about the blond guy set me on edge. I didn’t want him to slip Denver anything.

  When the lumberjack took his turn with my brother, I couldn’t help but watch. Denver’s eyes sought mine a few times, and they shimmered in the low-lit room. There was no concern or worry about my presence. He was in the moment and living life.

  “Does that turn you on? Watching your brother suck cock?” It was the twink from earlier.

  “Are you kidding? Any guy on his knees who can deep throat like that turns me on.”

  “Why don’t you line up then? Have a turn.”

  I laughed. “Why don’t you make yourself useful.” I grabbed my aching dick through my pants and squeezed, cocking a brow at the twink.

  He ignored the gesture and steadied his gaze on me. With a challenging tone, he said, “Too afraid? I think it would be the highlight of the night if you fucked your brother’s mouth. Not a single person here wouldn’t squirt in their pants watching that.”

  I glanced from the twink to Denver, who was audibly sucking as he hollowed his cheeks, moaning each time the lumberjack pushed deeper inside his throat.

  “How about a shot?” the twink asked. “Will that wash away any lingering hesitation?”

  “I’m not hesitating, asshole.”

  Except maybe I was. A little.

  I was pretty adventurous when it came to sex. Not much bothered me. I could probably do something like this and wake up tomorrow without regrets, but I wasn’t sure Denver could do the same, and the last thing I wanted to do was upset my brother.

  The twink removed my hand from my bulge where I’d been rubbing myself unconsciously. The ache in my balls grew more intense as I watched the show. The twink took over, rubbing and stroking me through my jeans. “He’s pretty vocal, isn’t he? All that sucking and slurping and moaning. Makes you hard, doesn’t it?”

  I gritted my teeth as I tried to rein in control before I came. Between the twink’s words and seeing Denver take control of the blowjob, using a hand and his tongue, I was ready to blow.

  “I bet he would be even more vocal for you.”

  “Get me two shots. Goldschläger.” My brother’s favorite.

  “And then are we gonna have a real dirty party down here?”

  “Maybe. If he agrees, and only if he agrees.”

  “Oh, he’s hungry for it, baby. Look at him. He might be sucking that guy’s dick, but he hasn’t taken his eyes off you the whole time. He wants it bad.”

  Before the twink returned with the shots, word traveled around the room. More people gathered around, and whispers were circulating about Harley and I being brothers.

  Someone pulled the lumberjack away and caught him up. The hunger in the guy’s eyes was volatile. I scanned the room. Did these people really get off on the whole idea of Harley and me together?

  It was strange, for sure. Hell, people outside these walls would probably be disgusted at the thought. But it wasn’t that big a deal, was it? If anything, I trusted my brother far more than any other person in the room. Who cared? I didn’t.

  If they wanted a show, fuck it, I’d give them a show.

  The twink returned with the shots, passing them off. There were murmurs, all eyes on me, and the anticipation in the room vibrated with an energy I’d never felt before. I was flying pretty high from the coke and feeling amazing. The only thing missing was a righteous orgasm, and my dick was screaming for attention. It didn’t care what kind.

  Whatever. This wasn’t a big thing. Not to me.

  I approached Denver who had remained on his knees. He scanned the buzzing audience that had gathered, a twinkle in his eyes. I crouched in front of him and offered him the shot. “I have a proposition for you.”

  He took the shot and slammed it back before squinting at me with a mischievous smile I’d never seen on him before. “What?”

  “You’re hot on your knees, you know that?”

  “Oh yeah? You think so?”

  “You look incredible with a cock down your throat too.”

  Denver beamed. He soaked up praise more than anyone I knew, especially if it came from me.

  “These guys are impressed, Den. I’m impressed.”

  He glanced around and must have sensed the expectancy surrounding us. “What do they want?”

  “They want a show. They want something they’ve never seen before. Something kinky and fun and raw and sexual and hot as fuck.”

  His eyes found my face again, waiting while I filled in the blanks.

  “They want to see you suck me off.”

  I paused, studying his reaction. If I found even an ounce of disgust on his face, I was ending this now. But his pupils dilated, and he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth as his gaze fell to my crotch. “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. How do you feel about that?”

  “It sounds…” He tipped his head to the side, his focus still on my straining erection. His battered lips parted a fraction.

  The noise behind me grew, and I raised a hand, silencing the crowd.

  “Go on. It sounds…?”

  “Dirty.”

  I chuckled. “It’s very dirty, but are you on board?”

  “Depends.”

  “On?”

  “Will you return the favor when I’m done?”

  And if there was a minuscule part of me that had thought this wasn’t a good idea, it vanished as a ripple of pleasure coated my skin and throbbed in my pants. I shivered and took Denver’s chin. “As long as you won’t regret this tomorrow, I’ll do anything you want. Are you gonna regret this?”

  “Nope.” He popped the p. “It’s wild and crazy and spontaneous, just like you.” Then his gaze fell to my cock again. “Let’s do it.”

  “Do you need another shot?”

  He shook his head. “I’m buzzing pretty hard right now. Don’t need more.”

  “I know. Buzzing too much? Are you with me still?”

  “I’m with you.”

  “All right.”

  I stood. Everyone in the room had stopped and gathered around.

  “Dude, is he your brother, for real?”

  “Yup.”

  “Whoa. Carry on.” The guy bit his fist and adjusted the hard-on in his pants.

  When I was about to unzip, Denver snagged my waist, tugging me closer. I let him undo my pants and shove them over my ass. His focus was all on my package. Eager hazel eyes lifted to find me again. They asked a silent Are you ready? and I nodded.

  Again, in some faraway, distant part of my brain, I wondered how disturbing it was that this simple act of pleasure didn’t bother me more. Denver was my brother, and he was taking my leaking cock out of my underwear, a look of hunger glowing in his eyes.

  When he peered up from under his lashes and flicked his tongue against my crown, I almost lost it right then and there.

  “Jesus,” I gritted, holding my shirt up so I didn’t miss a thing. “That’s fucking intense as hell.”

  Denver swirled his tongue around once and grinned facetiously. It was at that point I knew this little adventure was going to be the most amazing experience of my life. Another flick, another languid lick around my head. I was trembling and dripping. He gathered the precum on
the tip of his tongue with a smile and hummed as he took it into his mouth, rolling it around and tasting me.

  “Suck him,” someone called out from behind us.

  “Maybe he needs encouraging,” someone else said.

  On that suggestion, I fisted Denver’s hair and tipped his head back. “Open your mouth, you tease, before I blow all over your face.”

  He obliged, and I traced his lips once before dipping inside, little by little, one small thrust at a time until I couldn’t take it. Denver closed his lips around me and sucked me down.

  I cried out, securing my grip on his hair as I shuddered and fought the orgasm that sat right at the surface. “Fucking incredible,” I ground out between clenched teeth.

  I didn’t know if it was the coke, the Goldschläger, or the fact that it was my brother on his knees with my dick in his mouth, but I’d never been more turned on in my life.

  The audience seemed to like the show, and Denver proved in less than a minute that he had skills I knew nothing about. If I’d had any inhibitions about what I was doing, they vanished. I thrust faster, choking him more than once when I went too deep. He braced his hands on my thighs and took it.

  I was close. My body was alight with pleasure and roaring for that explosive drug-fueled finale. It was going to be massive, and I knew it.

  I pulled out at the last second and jerked myself hard until I showered Denver’s face with my cum. He tipped his head back and opened his mouth, taking any drops that landed inside with hunger and excitement that made my orgasm pulse that much harder and hold on even longer.

  When it finally ebbed, I traced a finger through the mess on his face with a grin. “God, you look good covered in my cum.”

  “Lick it off,” someone with a deep rumbly voice behind me said.

  So I dropped to my knees and took my time, tracing my tongue over all the lines of cum dripping down his face. Denver watched me, his hand jerking himself, the flare of heat behind his eyes unmistakable.

  When I licked a particular spot near his mouth, he turned his head and caught my tongue with his. A roar went through the crowd behind me. Some people clapped, others groaned with pleasure, and Denver and I gave them the show they wanted.

  I’d asked him if he would regret this in the morning, and he’d said no. Would I? Was this too far? It felt raw and euphoric. It made it impossible for my dick to soften. Even though I’d just come, I wanted more.

  Denver took my face between his hands and kissed me. It was brutal and sloppy and wet. My spunk on his lips, the hint of cinnamon. It was the hottest thing I’d ever done in my life.

  When we came apart, he looked at me with the same mischief in his eyes I’d seen earlier. “My turn,” he said.

  And I wasn’t sure who was more excited about the idea. Him or me.

  Chapter Four

  Denver

  The car ride home was silent. The air between us rippled with apprehension and too many questions. At some point after the fun in the basement, Harley had guided me upstairs. We’d had several more shots by that point, and my world had been fuzzy along the edges, wavering in and out of focus.

  I’d woken up after dawn in a stranger’s bed on the second floor, Harley sleeping beside me. Hungover, my mouth pasty and dry, head throbbing, and ass aching from the abuse it had taken from the blond stranger I’d picked up, I knew it was time to leave.

  It wasn’t until I’d reached over to shake Harley awake that it had all come back to me. Like a massive burst of thunder, the images and activities crashed to the front of my brain. The whole evening. Every vivid detail. I’d stalled, stuck in that moment of incomprehension. Harley had woken with a groan and blinked up at me before scanning the room.

  “Can you drive?” he’d asked, his voice raw and crackly.

  I’d agreed with a nod, which was how we’d wound up in the car, driving home from a wild night of partying and debauchery at some country house in the middle of nowhere, both of us feeling the repercussions of our drunken choices from the night before. At least I was. I didn’t know for sure what Harley was feeling.

  I couldn’t figure out what to say, so I remained silent. Thoughts whipped and stirred and spun around my brain. Instinctively, I wanted to make this weirdness between us better. I didn’t want Harley mad about something I was probably supposed to have stopped the previous night. It was in my nature to fix things when they got off track, but I didn’t know how to fix stupid, and we’d both been more than a little stupid.

  However, Harley seemed less bothered. He was thinking about it, I could tell. It was clear in the way he kept looking at me and then looking away before his gray eyes met mine. It was in the tightness of his muscles and the way he drummed his fingers on his thigh. Regardless, he managed to close his eyes after a few minutes on the road and lay his head back as though we hadn’t sucked each other off in front of a cheering audience only a few hours ago.

  I considered whether it was possible we were both in shock. Logically, we should be yelling at each other or vomiting our shame and regret into the bushes on the side of the road. There should be horror, finger-pointing, harsh words that would sting and linger for months, and awkwardness that would go on for years.

  But no. There was none of that.

  Yet.

  The farther I drove, the more relaxed Harley seemed. In fact, by the time I pulled up in front of his building, he was fast asleep.

  I shook his shoulder, bracing for the onslaught of the storm that would surely rage when he was more coherent.

  “We’re here.”

  Harley stirred and stretched with a groan before his whole body was racked by a jaw-creaking yawn. He looked around, blinked away his sleep haze, then slapped my shoulder. “Thanks for driving. I’m gonna be feeling this hangover until Monday. I know it. Anyhow, my bed’s calling. Later, man.”

  It took a second for my mind to catch up. I wasn’t registering his complete nonchalance. Before he slammed the door behind him, I called, “Wait! Harley. Are you just…? What the hell?”

  He peered back into the car, the consequences of a crazy night of partying clear on his face and in his rumpled clothing. As for disgust or regret, I saw none. “What?”

  “Don’t you think we should talk about this? I mean, I know you were drunk and high and whatever, and I was drunk, but… Harley?!” I shook my head, trying to rattle the pieces into place.

  He looked legitimately confused. “What’s there to talk about?”

  Was he serious?

  “What’s there to…? Are you for real?” I completed a quick scan of the street to ensure no listening ears were nearby. “Harley we…” I swung a finger between us, unable to say the words.

  Harley shrugged and yawned again. “Yeah, so? It’s no big deal. Don’t go freaking out about it. Who cares? It happened. It was a fun night. Now let me go crash. I’m so fucking tired and hungover right now.”

  He slammed the door and stumbled toward his building as he dug his keys from his pocket.

  For ten minutes, I sat with my jaw hanging open, wondering if Harley didn’t remember our encounter with the same clarity. How could he brush it off like it was nothing?

  The drive to my dorm felt like an out-of-body experience. I showered, brushed my teeth, and crawled into my cozy bed, the whole time wondering if I was the one not remembering the night correctly. Maybe I could sleep it off. Maybe when I woke up later, I’d see the error of my ways.

  I had tests coming up and papers due. There was a mountain of homework I was supposed to take care of this weekend, but I couldn’t think about it right now.

  Maybe sleep would give me perspective.

  * * *

  Sleep did not give me perspective.

  I woke in a cold sweat, panicking, but with a much clearer head. Fumbling to get dressed, I knocked into the wall, and my bedside lamp crashed to the floor. I dropped the cordless phone three times as I tried to call my brother and put socks on at the same time. He didn’t answer, so I left m
ultiple messages. Then I got tangled in the blankets that had fallen off the bed and fell into my desk, sending my chair to the ground. When I righted the chair, I knocked a few textbooks over, which clattered against the small garbage pail, causing it to spill.

  So much for a stealthy exit.

  My roommate, who was sleeping, mumbled a string of curses and stuck his head under his pillow. He’d probably overindulged last night as well and was hungover and pissy. I was usually the quiet and organized one between the two of us. Chris was the loud and messy one. I didn’t apologize, figuring he deserved my clumsy, noisy escape for all the times he’d disrupted my sleep in the past.

  Dressed and with my hair nothing more than finger-combed, I darted out the door and headed directly to Harley’s dorm room. It was long past midday on a Saturday. He hadn’t answered his phone, but if he wasn’t awake yet, he could damn well get over it. We needed to talk. Properly.

  It turned out, Harley must have received my frenzied messages. I’d barely knocked when he yanked the door open and tugged me inside.

  “God, you’re going to make this a thing, and it’s not a thing. Sit down.” He pointed at his unmade bed.

  I glanced at the opposite side of the room, but his roommate’s bed was empty.

  “Is Tate here?”

  “No. I told him to fuck off for a little bit because you were coming over to have a meltdown, and he didn’t want to witness it.”

  “I’m not here to have a melt—”

  “Are you here because of last night?” Harley asked as he aimed for the bathroom and didn’t bother shutting the door.

  He tugged himself out of his jogging pants and proceeded to piss while I was in direct view. Leave it to my brother. He didn’t possess a single fuck to give.

  When I didn’t answer, and he called my name, “Denver?” I realized I was staring at him as he took a leak and darted my gaze away.

  “Yes, I’m here about last night. Of course I’m here about last night.”

  “See? Which only means one thing. You’re freaking out. I already told you to forget it.”