BRETT:

    "C'mon, tell me the story of how you caught your uncle one more time," my boyfriend panted while bouncing up and down on my hard cock.

    "Well… it was two weeks ago, when I went to Minneapolis to visit a couple of colleges. I spent the night at Uncle Austin's apartment there," I said, doing my best to talk while 190 pounds of high-school hockey-player muscle bounced and grinded on top of me. I lay on my back in my bed and I went into full storytelling mode, without omitting anything. Even though I'd told my boyfriend this story at least three times already, I knew he wanted to hear all the details. "I was sleeping in the spare bedroom when I got up in the middle of the night to have some water. Out in the hallway, I saw that the lights in my uncle's bedroom were on, and the door was slightly open. And then I heard it: 'Fuck me. Ahh, fuck my ass!'"

    "Fuck, that must've been so hot," my boyfriend moaned, accelerating the speed of his movement as he took my throbbing dick balls-deep inside of him.

    "At first it was shocking more than anything," I admitted. "I mean, obviously I'd never caught my uncle having sex or anything like that before. As I approach his bedroom door, the first thing I sense is the smell. It smelled like sweaty, man-on-man sex. Kinda like this," I added, looking around my room, filled with trophies and medals I'd accumulated while playing hockey and other sports since I was little. My mom always complained about the stench in here; in all of my 17 years, I don't think I'd ever opened my window without her nagging me to do it.

    "Fuuuck. So you went to get a closer look?" my boyfriend asked, leaning his hands against my pecs and twisting my nips in opposite directions.

    "Yeah. I mean, I know I shouldn't have, but I was feeling nosy. So I sneak toward the bedroom door and I peek in. Inside, I see my uncle and his fiancé in bed. Rodney's lying on his back, his dick hard as a fucking rock and pointing up. Uncle Austin has his back turned to me, and I watch as he's IMPALING himself on Rodney's dick. Ahhh, just like you're doing to me now, baby."

    "Is that the first time you've seen Rod's dick?" my boyfriend continued asking questions he already knew the answers to, all the while absorbing the wads of precum I was currently shooting inside his ass. 

    "Yes, of course. I always had a feeling he might be big, but holy shit!! I was stunned when I saw it," I confessed. As the owner of a larger-than-average cock, I wasn't easily impressed. From what I could tell in the locker room, I had possibly the largest soft cock there. I had no idea how big my friends were when erect, but my eight inches definitely did the trick and kept my boyfriend Juan happy. If I was lucky, I wondered if I might even grow another inch or two by the time I finished high school in a year.

    "How big was it?" Juan asked, curious about my uncle's fiancé's dick.

    "Shit, bigger than mine, that's for sure. I'm eight inches, so he could've been ten? I don't know if I'd be exaggerating to say 11 or 12, but maybe."

    "Fuck. And your uncle could take all that?" Juan said, fucking himself faster and faster on my hard prick.

    "Oh, Uncle Austin took it like he was taking a pinky finger," I chuckled. "He kept going 'Fuck me. Fuck my ass,' begging for more."

    "That's impressive, taking a 12-incher with ease. Your uncle's a pro," my boyfriend said, almost enviously. Juan and I tried to fuck for the first time two years ago and it… didn't go well. It took us a whole year of practicing before we'd figured out what we were doing and he was able to take my dick.

    "Yeah. And Rodney fucked like a pro as well. He pulled his monster cock almost aaaall the way out –" I said as I pulled my dick out of Juan's ass, leaving only the tip in "– and then he slammed back in!" Upon saying that, I shoved my tool back inside my boyfriend's hole, going balls-deep and hitting Juan's sweet spot in the process.

    "Ahhhh!" Juan suddenly shouted, spewing out at least seven wads of cum one right after the other, coating the valley between my pecs and creating a lake of jizz on my chest. Cumming handsfree was one of Juan's specialties by now – I just wished he would keep the noise down a bit while he did it. "Ah. Ah. Ahhh!!!" he kept moaning… when suddenly, there was a knock on my door.

    "Brett? Everything alright in there?!" my father's voice came from the other side.

    "Fine, Dad!" I shouted, biting my lip immediately after. I couldn't control it! I started cumming inside my boyfriend's ass, breeding him while my father talked to us.

    "Juan, are you in there?" Dad asked.

    "Yes, Mr. Thompson," my boyfriend replied, doing his best to control his voice while both of us continued blowing our loads. 

    "Dinner's ready. Will you be staying over?" 

    "No, thank you. I – aaaah – I gotta head home," Juan said while stifling a moan.

    "Okay. Well, Brett, come downstairs soon," Dad said.

    "Okay Dad, I'm cumming," I replied facetiously as I blew the last of my nut inside my boyfriend's hungry hole. "Fuck. Phew. That was fun," I said more quietly a moment later, holding on to Juan's hips while he slowly raised his body off my cum-covered cock.

    "Tell me about it. Do you think your dad could tell that we were fucking?" my boyfriend asked.

    "Who the hell knows?" I said, reaching for a washcloth under my bed that I used as a jizz rag. I wiped the remaining sperm off my dick as well as the lake of jizz that Juan had left of my chest, before offering the cloth to him.

    "No, thanks," he said. "I like carrying your babies in me."

    "Suit yourself," I chuckled. "You really like that story, huh? About my uncle?"

    "Yeah. Too bad you didn't get to finish it this time. We'll have to pick up where we left off," Juan teased, planting a kiss on my lips as he pulled his jeans on.

 

CHARLES:

    "Is Juan staying for dinner?" my wife asked me as I entered the kitchen.

    "No. It'll be just the three of us," I said, taking a seat at the table. 

    "Well is Brett coming? What're they doing up there?" she continued as she took the meatballs out of the oven.

    "He'll be here soon, give him a minute," I replied. I wasn't sure what the boys were up to, but they were a couple of teenagers with the door shut, so I could only imagine.

    "You know… If it's just us three… maybe tonight's a good time to tell Brett about… you know," my wife nudged.

    "No. Not tonight," I said curtly.

    "He'll be 18 in a few months. I don't know what we're waiting for," she prodded.

    "Not tonight. My head's buzzing from work all day," I insisted. 

    "You're stressed out from work every day. And then on the weekend you say you just wanna relax. There's never gonna be a right time unless we make it."

    "Fine, then you tell him!" I snapped. "If you're so eager to do it, you tell him everything!"

    "I'm not gonna tell him anything on my own, we're gonna do it together as a family," she replied calmly and way more patiently than I deserved.

    "Okay. Just not tonight," I implored, yet again kicking the can further down the road.

—

    I grew up in a large family. I had three older biological sisters and a younger brother named Austin. We also had an adoptive brother and sister, who were the youngest, so to say that we had a full house would be an understatement. I loved it, though, and so did our parents. Neither of them had any siblings, and their shared desire to have a big family was what brought them together more than anything else. I took after them, and from a pretty young age I looked forward to becoming a father.

    I met my wife-to-be Anne in our freshman year in college. A year later, I'd proposed; and a year after that, we were married. We got a house in our hometown of St. Cloud, Minnesota, an hour northwest of the Twin Cities. Even though we were young, we were living the suburban dream. Only thing we were missing was a baby.

    We kept trying and trying. Finally, after a few years, we went to see a doctor. That's when I got the blow: I was infertile. I couldn't have kids. The one thing I wanted more than anything in the world, and I couldn't do it!

    I felt stripped of my manhood. I was never the biggest or strongest man, but I always swore that I would be the best father. I hid from my wife and cried every night for a week. Then, we began to consider "alternatives."

    We decided to go with a sperm donor. Just because I couldn't have a biological baby, I didn't think Anne should be stripped of that opportunity. As we browsed through catalogs of potential donors, I started to think about how my family line would, in a way, die off with me. My sisters were married and they'd all taken their husbands' names. My brother Austin was gay. Our adoptive brother Rafe was always a sibling to me just as much as everyone else, but genetically it just wasn't the same. It might sound selfish, but I wanted at least one boy born to our parents to continue the legacy.

    That's when the idea hit me. If Austin wasn't going to have a wife and kids of his own… why not use him as our sperm donor? Yes, it might sound weird, getting my wife impregnated by my brother's sperm, but I didn't see why it would be any more weird than using any other man's seed. I brought up the idea to Anne, who was down for it. Next up was Austin.

    Soon after graduating high school, my brother had packed his bags and moved to Minneapolis. He was a big-city boy, and we got together for family reunions, but we weren't particularly close otherwise. I asked him the big question on Christmas 2003. I was 24. Austin had just turned 21 a couple of months before that. After browsing all of those potential sperm donors, I now found myself sizing my brother up. He was healthy. At 5'10", he was two inches taller than me. He'd always been more athletic. Academically, he wasn't the highest achiever (he'd decided to forgo college and get a job instead) but I guess no one's perfect. So I went ahead and asked if we could have his sperm.

    That was the first time my brother learned about my infertility. He was sympathetic, and surprisingly easygoing about getting his sperm tested. Once we had the all-clear from the doctors, we decided to go ahead. Less than three months later, Anne was already pregnant. Precisely a week before Christmas 2004, our son Brett was born.

    I was ecstatic to have a boy. He was MY boy; he was MY SON and I never had any doubt about it for a second. Austin was just "Uncle Austin," and he was happy with that. We all agreed to tell Brett the truth eventually, setting "when he's old enough" as our vague deadline.

    My wife suggested it when Brett was in middle school, but I feared he might still be too young. Ironically, the older he got, the more difficult it became to tell him. Now, he was almost an adult by any metric. Anne was insistent we tell him soon – he had the right to know. And I agreed, just not yet. Just not tonight.