I was 22 when my girlfriend told me she was pregnant; a full-grown adult, but I was still acting like a kid. I'd grown up in a small town in Maine and moved to New York when I was 19. Like many newcomers to the city, I was overwhelmed by the sudden plethora of things to do, and I went a bit crazy with all the partying for a few years.
Well, fatherhood put a quick end to that. I decided to do the responsible thing: I proposed to my girlfriend and we got married. A few months later, our son Nash was born. His mom couldn't work for a few months, so I worked three jobs to support us. Even after my wife went back to work, we always seemed to be short on cash. We struggled for a few years, but we knew that we had to make the sacrifice for Nash.
Alas, all of that stress put a strain on our relationship. To be frank, I don't think my wife and I would've ever gotten married if not for her pregnancy. When Nash was 8, we finally decided to divorce. It was fairly amicable, and since we lived close to each other we never fought over custody – even as a kid, Nash could walk between our two apartments and stay with whoever he pleased.
That changed three years ago, when my ex-wife had a baby with her new boyfriend. Nash was 13 and he started to spend seven nights a week at my place, away from the crying baby. I was rather lenient as a parent and my son and I had a decent relationship; that is, until I announced that we would be moving to Maine to stay with my brother for a while.
"It's soooo boring here," Nash moaned consistently during our first few days in Maine. He had no car, so he was unable to go anywhere without bumming a ride from his uncle or me. Today was Nash's first day at his new school, so I was hoping maybe that would cheer him up a bit.
In the afternoon, I drove to the bus stop to pick him up. I smoked in my car and waited for the school bus to pull up. When it did, Nash was the only kid to get off. By the way he traipsed to my vehicle, I could tell he was in a broody mood.
"How was the first day at school?" I asked, throwing the cigarette butt out the window as Nash got into the passenger seat and buckled up.
"Oh my god it was awesome, everyone's super cool!" he said sarcastically before adding, "Ergh, Dad, I've asked you not to smoke in the car."
"Did you talk to people? Did you make any friends?" I persisted, ignoring his sulky comments.
"Dad, everyone here knows each other. They've been going to school together since they were five. They have friends already. No one's looking to be friends with the new kid."
"I don't know if that's true. Didn't your uncle say there are a lot of new people moving to the area? Some of them are bound to have kids your age."
"Well I don't know!!" Nash snapped. He was clearly in no mood to do anything but argue and complain, so I dropped the subject and drove in silence for the few minutes it took to get to my brother's house. Finally, as I pulled over in front of the cabin, my son announced, "I need to get my own car."
"You don't even have a license," I reminded him.
"Fine then I need to get a license!"
"Well you do that and we'll see about getting you a car," I said. Without another word, Nash left my vehicle and slammed the door shut. Once alone, I let out a long sigh. I had no idea where I would get the money for another car, but Nash was right in that he couldn't live here without one. Yes, he was acting like a brat, but I decided to cut him some slack – after all, he had to leave behind everything he knew in New York, which felt like a different world from here.
Later that evening I stepped outside for a smoke. My financial troubles coupled with the stress of parenting had me constantly craving. I looked up into the dark sky and admired how many stars I could see. God, I'd missed this place. Nash will come around; I was sure of it. When I noticed the lights on in the quarters over the garage, I decided to go say hi to my brother. I put out the cig and headed up the outside stairway to Stan's master suite.
At the top, I peeked in the window from the deck. It looked like my brother had set up a small living room, and I could see him sitting in a recliner. The space looked fairly simple, with an end table and an additional loveseat. Just a few feet from me, my brother was wearing a bathrobe that was totally open – and nothing else. Stan had his eyes glued to the TV in front of him, where a porno was playing. With one hand, my younger brother held a bottle of beer, while the other was slowly stroking up and down his rock-hard cock.
I almost felt guilty, catching my brother during an intimate moment like this, but I was so intrigued by the sight of him naked and hard that I couldn't look away. I'd seen Stan like this before, when we were teenagers. What I didn't expect, however, was that his dick seemed to have gotten bigger after I left for New York. Mine was always larger, but by now, he was clearly packing more inches and girth than I was. In a weird way, I was proud of him.
My brother's dick wasn't the only thing that was bigger; his pecs, arms, and thighs all looked massive. I knew being a contractor was hard physical labor and I was impressed by how muscled Stan had become. He even sported a full chest of ginger hair, though that did nothing to hide his perky nipples. I licked my lips as I continued watching him jerk off for a few moments, when suddenly Stan looked out the window and spotted me.
Fuck, I was caught! I merely smiled and waved like it was nothing at all. Stan smiled back, set down his beer, stood up and tied his robe – though I could still clearly see his raging boner poking through it. My brother walked to the door and opened it to let me in.
"I thought I'd say hi, but looks like you're busy," I greeted him.
"Ah, you're here already, c'mon in. Want a beer?" he offered casually as I followed him in, away from the cold.
Stan got me a beer from the mini fridge, making no effort to turn off the porn that way on the TV. I looked around the room, which was pretty much a bachelor pad studio, complete with kitchenette and a large en suite bathroom next to the king-size bed. There was a stack of old-school DVDs on the end table – some regular, most dirty. On the walls were various posters of New England sports teams. He even had a pool table set up. This was definitely his sanctuary.
I sat on the loveseat as my brother returned to his recliner. This time, my eyes were drawn to the man and woman fucking on the TV screen. From the corner of my eye, I could see that Stan's cock was still poking through the front of his robe, but I tried not to stare at it. I just sat there calmly, sipping my beer.
"So, what's up? You look like something's bothering you," Stan broke the silence (save for the squealing porn actress).
"Oh, it's just Nash. Today was his first day of school and he doesn't seem too impressed," I sighed, taking another sip of beer. "And he wants a car. How am I gonna afford that?!"
"Can he drive a truck? I have a spare Silverado he can borrow," my brother offered. "It's a little old, but he'll fit in with the other boys at school."
"He can't drive shit. He's a New Yorker, doesn't even have a permit yet," I explained. It felt strange sitting here with my nearly naked brother, drinking beer and watching porn while talking about my son. It felt ridiculous but relaxing at the same time.
"We'll get him a permit first, then his license. It won't happen all at once, but it might help to cheer him up if he has something to look forward to," Stan continued coolly.
My little brother was making a good point, and I agreed to take him up on his offer. It would be nice to see Nash somewhat happy again. I started to unwind more, taking off my jacket and boots to get comfortable. We sat there, quietly sipping our beers and watching the porno like it was a feature film. My dick was even starting to stir. I hadn't been laid in over a year and it didn't take much to get me going nowadays. The only thing that could make this better was another cigarette.
"Mind if I have a smoke?" I asked expectantly.
"Only if you give me one," Stan smiled.
I lit up one cigarette and handed it to him before lighting another for myself. After a few minutes of enjoying the nicotine, I noticed a second man had joined the couple on screen, turning it into a threesome. Next thing I know, all three actors were kissing at the same time.
"Are you... into this sorta thing?" I asked my brother hesitantly. When we would watch porn together as teens, it was always 100% straight stuff.
"Sure," Stan shrugged, acting nonchalantly.
I don't know if my brother even realized what he was doing, but after putting out his cig, his hand returned to the hard cock sticking out of his robe. With a piece like that, it was hard not to notice! My dick was almost fully hard; I'd been sporting a semi for a while now. Finished with my smoke, I rubbed my own bulge. Stan cocked his head towards me at the movement but didn't say anything. Instead, he merely started openly stroking his tool.
I looked at my brother and made eye contact. His eyes flashed down to my swollen crotch. He motioned with his head, as if giving me permission to take it out. This wouldn't be the first time we've jerked off together… but that was over twenty years ago! Ah, fuck it: I unzipped to pull my jeans and boxers down, my cock out at full mast.
On screen, the two men were taking turns fucking the woman and encouraging each other. Stan and I sized each other up one last time before turning our attention back to the porn. Next thing I know, one dude was pulling out and the other guy dropped to his knees to blow him. My eyes bulged in shock. My brother didn't even flinch, he just kept stroking while staring at the screen. Maybe he was into dudes – was my brother bi?!
After a while, the two male actors went back to fucking the chick, one in her pussy and the other in her mouth. I could tell they were getting close, and so was I. Purposefully ignoring my brother, I concentrated on the action on screen. I jerked faster and faster until finally I shot my load, splattering my shirt. Stan looked over just as I was sending out two more ropes of cum and joined me in orgasm. I watched as the first jet landed in his chest hair before the rest of his load oozed out and covered his hand. Finally, we both grunted in satisfaction.
"Well, I think it's time for bed," I announced, pulling up my pants and heading to the door. "That oughta help me fall asleep. Thanks, bro."