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Message Board > Special Interest Forums & Discussion Groups > Dirty Stories: Instant Jackoff Material   Gay doesn't always mean happy!

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Old 16th November 2009, 01:58 AM
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Gay doesn't always mean happy!

Writer's Note: I asked for submissions for stories and got quite a few. Originally, I elected not to write the following one, but the teller kept insisting I tell his story. It is different, names have been changed to protect the innocent and the guilty.

Let's say my name is George. I was twelve years old back in the early fifties when I had my first sexual experience with another male. It was my own brother, Jacob, who seduced me. He was fifteen at the time, on the football team, getting great grades, and the idol of my young mind. We lived with our father, Mom died when I was about six.

Jacob and I shared the same bedroom for as long as I can remember. The summer this all started, I had woken up a few times to the sound of his bed springs squeaking. In the dim gloom of our bedroom, I could see his blanket moving up and down on his lap. I raised myself up on one elbow, and asked if he was alright. There was a quick scurry of activity, and then a gruff "Go back to sleep!" That was the end of it for that night.

A couple of nights later, it started again. Now, I had actually practiced in the afternoon, when Jacob was gone, how to roll out of my bed without making any noise. Putting my new skills to work, I silently got out of bed and crept over close to the foot of his bed on all fours. Carefully, I raised my head up. The blankets were going up and down again. Jacob glanced over to the shadows where my bed was and saw no activity. Throwing caution to the wind, he pushed back the covers to expose his groin. His fist was firmly wrapped around his dick, pumping it up and down. He raised his hand to lick it and returned the slick grip to his dick. I knew what a hard-on was, and I knew the good feelings that came from rubbing it. However, this jerking action was new to me. Jacob closed his eyes as his fist flew up and down his dick. Pointing the head toward his chest, he jerked as gobs of white cum shoot out and coated his chest. I hadn't yet started to shoot cum when I rubbed myself or dry humped my pillow so I was fascinated. As I watched, Jacob scooped some of the white stuff up in his fingers and jammed them into his mouth. When he removed them, they were licked clean. He scooped up more until it was all gone.

I waited until he rolled over and went back to sleep before carefully making my way back to my bed. My own dick was hard, and I rubbed it until the good feelings came over me.

A couple of nights later, Jacob spent the night over at a friend's house, and I had the bedroom to myself. As soon as I slipped into bed, I reached for my dick and copied what I had seen Jacob do. I don't know if it was finally my time, or if the new method increased feelings; but I finally managed to shoot a little bit of cum. Unlike Jacob, I did not lick it off, but used a tissue.

The next day, I was telling my best friend about this, but not about Jacob. He scoffed at me, and said it was about time I learned how to "jack off". He told me he had been shooting off two or more times a day for over a year. I was dumbfounded he had never told me about this. I asked him to tell me more, but he changed the subject, and that was the end of it.

That night, I was already in bed when Jacob came in. As he got undressed for bed, I noticed he already had a sizable bulge in his underpants, probably thinking about jerking off already. When he stuck a few tissues under his pillow, I abruptly spoke up, "Planning on jerking off again tonight?" Jacob pivoted around and stared at me in horror. "What?" he exclaimed. I responded, "I've been watching you jerk off, and wonder if we could do it together." I learned later in life that "a stiff dick has no conscious". Jacob laughed and said "Only if it stays our secret." I agreed.

Jacob shut off the light and stripped his underwear off as he climbed in bed. I waited. Finally, he said "Well, are you going to come over here or not?" I jumped out of my bed, shucked my own underpants and crawled onto his bed. We sat up on the bed with our backs to the head board. He licked his palm and then gripped his semi-hard dick. I copied him movement for movement. This close up, I had a better view of the action. I noticed he pumped with one hand, and pulled on his ball sac with the other. I aped him. It wasn't long before he closed his eyes and pointed his dick at his chest. I was fascinated by the redness of his dick head as he got closer to shooting. As soon as he started shooting on his chest, I came too. I could not bring myself to licking up the cum on my chest like he did. Seeing this, he reached over and scooped my cum off me and licked it off his fingers. After cleaning up with the tissues, I returned to my bed and slept peacefully.

This became a nightly event for us for the next two weeks, except on nights Jacob spent over his friend's house. It was the night after one of these "overnight stays" that Jacob asked if I wanted to try something different. I trusted him, and said okay. He made me swear not to tell ANYONE for ever. I crossed my heart and "hoped to die" if I ever let the secret out. Jacob had me sit on the edge of me bed as he knelt on the floor. I thought he just wanted to watch me jerk off up close. However, he reached out with his hand and grabbed my dick. This was the first time I had ever had someone else touch me there, and the feelings were 100% better than doing it myself. I put my hands behind to support me as I leaned back. When I was hard, harder than ever before, Jacob looked up at me. He asked "You trust me?" I nodded yes. The next thing I knew, his mouth closed over my dick and his tongue swirled around the head. I sat up like a bolt of lighting had hit me. Jacob stopped, and looked at me. "Keep going", I whispered. Jacob returned to my dick and used his mouth to pump my dick instead of his hand. I had heard about girls giving guys blowjobs, but this was something more than I ever expected. Jacob was good in my innocent opinion. He clamped his lips around my dick and slid from the head to my pubes. Meanwhile his tongue scrapped along the underside of my dick bringing even greater excitement. When he withdrew to the head, his tongue swirled around the rim where the head and shaft meet. He would pull his tongue back and tickle the piss slit on the tip until I moaned. My moans were a signal to slide back down the rod. A huge knot grew in the pit of my stomach, and my balls drew up tight even as his other hand pulled them back down. Suddenly, the cum rushed up my dick. I jumped up with a yell, and began pumping my load into Jacob's eager mouth. He swallowed every drop.

Unfortunately, we weren't being quiet in our exuberance. Dad was passing in the hall when he heard the commotion. He opened the bedroom door to see his older son on his knees with his younger brother's dick in his mouth. We were caught right in the throes of climax and didn't even hear him enter. I exclaimed "That was great. I never knew that could be done." Jacob pulled my dick out of his mouth and smacked his lips. He added "Anytime you want it again just ask." Suddenly, we returned to reality as my father stormed into the room yelling. He grabbed Jacob by the neck and actually picked him up off the floor. He flung my brother across the room against the wall. He yelled at me to put something on. He grabbed the naked Jacob and hauled him out of the room by the hair on his scalp.

I heard yelling for the next hour, and things being thrown about. After it quieted down, my father came back up to my room. He sat on the edge of my bed and asked me to tell him the truth. He asked me all kind of questions about what Jacob had been doing to me. He asked if Jacob had ever touched me before, or if there was anything else he had done to me. I lied and said no this was the first time anything had happened. My father told me how wrong this was, and that I should never let any man ever touch me again. I asked if Jacob was okay, and Dad just said no. I asked to see him, and my father said no. Dad explained that Jacob had some problems and I shouldn't hang around with him. He told me that Jacob would be sleeping down in the basement from now on and I was not to go down there and Jacob was not to come up to my room without Dad there. He told me to go to sleep and forget about the bad things Jacob had done.

The next morning, I went downstairs hoping to see Jacob at breakfast. Dad said Jacob wasn't feeling well and would be eating in his room. A little later, Dad came up from the basement with a worried look on his face. He said Jacob wasn't feeling good, and he needed to see a doctor. Dad tried to get a babysitter to watch me, but couldn't. So, I had to go along with him. Jacob was bruised and holding his arm as we got into the car. He avoided looking at either my father or me. Dad had called a doctor he knew and was meeting him at his office, strange back then on a Saturday.

When we got to the doctor's office, Dad shoved Jacob into the exam room with the doctor and closed the door. I went over beside the door to listen. I could hear Dad and the doctor arguing about Jacob. The doctor was telling him that he had gone too far in his punishment. I could only hear part of Dad's response, but heard things like "queer", "pervert" and "cock sucker". Back in the early fifties, there were fewer laws about reporting child abuse and the doctor must have agreed with Dad about Jacob desired what he got. When he came out of the room, Jacob had his arm in a cast and sling. It was broken. His bruises had been tended to, and he sported a few bandages. Before we left, I heard Dad tell him "If anyone asks, you fell. Or the next one will be worse."

Dad and Jacob never were close again. Dad made sure that Jacob and I were never alone again. Because of his arm, Jacob was dropped from the football team. His grades suffered, and many of his friends seemed to shun him. When he turned seventeen, Jacob ran away from home. Dad didn't even try to find him. It was better this way as Dad constantly belittled Jacob and called him names.

The day he left, Jacob left me a note under my bedroom door. he explained that it was all his fault. He had been playing around with some of his male buddies, and even some of their fathers, on those overnight stays. He felt sorry for ever getting me involved. He said Dad would never understand, and it was better if he just left. He told me to forget about him, and lead a normal life.

About a year later, we got word that Jacob was dead. I never knew for certain if it was a drug overdose, or suicide. Dad refused to even make arrangements for a funeral. Jacob was buried far away in a lonely grave.

My father kept a close eye on me. I couldn't have any close male friends. Forget about normal hanging out, he had to know where I was and who I was with every minute. I started dating girls, and Dad actually encouraged me to "nail one of them". He supplied me girlie mags and condoms. When I started going steady with a girl in High School, he let up a little. Yet when we broke up, boom the Iron Curtain came down again.

I got married and had a daughter by the time I was twenty. Dad died a couple of years after. He never knew that I had inherited Jacob's desire for close man to man contact. I just controlled it better. I went through the motions of being a good husband and father, but our marriage got increasingly rougher as the years went on. She was dissatisfied with my lack of attention, always telling me to go see a doctor about my lack of sex drive. I couldn't tell her I had the drive, but not for her sex. I wanted to press against a hot male body, and shoot my cum all over him before licking it off. Oh, yeah, I had developed a taste for my own, and wanted some different cum.

As soon as we divorced, I went out on the prowl. I was now thirty-two years old, but still in good physical condition. The first night out, I went to a dingy gay bar. I didn't go home alone that night. When we got back to my apartment, we fucked and sucked in turn to make up for all the lost years. There wasn't a hole left untapped that night. I became a regular on the gay circuit; bars, bookstores, parks, and highway rest areas. I can imagine my Dad was spinning in his grave every night as I took one for my brother. I got into drugs as a way to keep that sexual drive going all the time. Spinning out of control, I was lucky enough to find a caring soul who reached out to me and calmed me down. Tom and I moved in together as lovers. I cleaned up my act for him, finally someone I could care about beside myself. We still fooled around with others, but almost always as a group thing. There is nothing better than to cradle your lover in your arms and kiss him as some young stud pounds his ass to a pulp with a rod I sucked to erection.

I even eventually found my brother's grave, and visit him regularly. I know I am gay and have learned to love myself, but there was a lot of pain and suffering before I could enjoy it. I learned just because you are "gay" doesn't mean you are "happy"!
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