Subject: Bradley and Jay III Comments, suggestions, constructive criticsm, and correspondence welcomed. Thank you for hoo ******* Bradley and Jay III By S.M. Hill It was cold and still dark when I awoke. Bradley was still asleep next to me on the floor where we had passed out. His naked chest rising and falling with the rythmic, steady breathing of a sleeping boy. I watched him for a moment, not wanting to move, not wanting to ruin a perfect moment. He was so peaceful, so serene. The moonlight reflected off his skin and gave it a pale glow. Bradley had left the window cracked open and the cold November air invaded our bedroom. I was surprised it didn’t wake him, as it was enough to wake me, but he had always been a deep sleeper. I got up to close the window and grabbed a blanket and pillow from my bed. We were both still naked and covered in coat of dry cum. We didn’t clean up our mess like we should have but that could wait till morning. I pulled on my pajama bottoms and curled up back on the floor beside Bradley and pulled a blanket over us both. I watched him sleep as my hand gently traced the skin on his chest. My finger cirlced his firm nipples, then followed the ridge line of his chest down to his belly button, where it found a patch dried cum matted into the sparse trail of lightly colored hair that lead down below to his thicker and darker pubic hair. It was hard and crusty. A hot shower in the morning would wash it all away, but for now it remained as evidence of our special bond. I brought my finger to my mouth hoping to steal a taste to no success. I laid my head on his chest and listened to his heart beat. His chest rising and falling. The sound of his heart pumping the lifeblood we shared through his veins. His scent. Oh god, his scent. Musty, tangy, but somehow also clean and fresh. I buried my nose into his armpit and took a deep breath. I felt a surge through my dick as it pulsed in my pajamas. That was the night I kissed my brother for the first time. He was sleeping and totally unaware when I put my mouth onto his and my lips grazed against his with just the slightest of pressure. * * * * * * * * * * Bradley was his usual assured self. If he ever had any doubts or second thoughts about anything, he never showed it. He was always so confident and sure, and even when something went wrong or didn’t go his way, he’d shake it off with a resiliency I didn’t seem to have. I would think about him a lot. In class I’d zone out and wonder what he was doing. I’d imagine him goofing off with his friends or flirting with a girl while trying to impress her with his skateboard skills. Sometimes I’d even imagine him jerking off in his school bathroom. I don’t know why but just the thought of him doing something so personal and private and sexual in school would spring my bone to life and I’d have to try to urge it back down. More often than not my teen hormones were far stronger than my will power and I’d just have to wait, or try to think of something else to get it to subside. Sometimes that worked. But sometimes it didn’t. One day, in Mr. Kelly’s third period english class, I got myself so worked up I had to ask for a bathroom pass. All I can say is that long, oversized tshirts come in really handy when you’re 13. Of course I felt every eyeball in the classroom looking at my crotch and my boner, even though I’m pretty sure it was all in my head. The thought that they all somehow knew what I was about to do was mortifying but I assured myself there was no way gaziantep travesti they possibly could know. Once I was out the door and around the corner I was practically running to the bathroom. The bathroom was empty. I picked a stall, pulled my shirt up behind my head, opened my pants and went to work. It didn’t take long. As I cleaned up what mess there was, I wondered how many loads of teenage cum were spilled in this bathroom over the years. Surely, mine couldn’t have been the first. I washed my hands and went back to class. I was able to focus somewhat better; at least my mind was off of Bradley. I looked around class as I returned to my seat and wondered how many of the boys in my class had ever had to excuse themselves to go jerk off. I couldn’t be the only one, right? Then the idea of my classmates jerking off sent a surge through my body, down through my stomach and, yep, right back to my dick. I was hard again. * * * * * * * * * * Our nightly routine remained pretty much the same. Our wanking sessions still happened, but not as often and they didn’t seem to be as intense. Most nights it was just him stroking off in his bed, while I stroked off in mine. Sometimes he’d tell me stories about a girl he’d like to fuck and all the things he would do to her, or in some cases, already had done to her. Of course he made me swear on our bond of brotherhood that what he told me would stay between us. I couldn’t tell how much was fantasy and how much was fact. I assumed he was having some sex but I suspected it might not have been as much as he claimed due to that masculine teenage bravado. But I also knew he liked to show off and I figure some, if not most, of his stories were efforts to impress me with how much of a Romeo he was. Nothing got him hotter than him recounting one of his sexual adventures and/or fantasies. And nothing got me hotter than listening to the way his voice would modulate and crack the more aroused he got or the way his breath would quicken as he amped up the intensity of his wank. I could always tell when he was getting close because he would go silent. Wanking yourself to orgasm takes focus, after all. You can’t distract yourself by talking when you’re close to cumming. So he’d go silent except for the *smack* *smack* *smack* of skin on skin as his hand worked his dick over right up to the point where he would let out that almost breathless gasp as he exploded not six feet away from me. The thought of Bradley actually doing those things to whichever girl he was using as wank material that night turned me on, but also gave me a sinking feeling in my stomach. Jealousy, maybe? Guilt? I still had that image of him fucking Luci burned into my brain, as well as him getting that blow job in the woods. They were my go-to images whenever I was in a hurry to get off. Of course, I’d erase the girls from those memories and just focus on Bradley and the way his body moved, the sounds he made, the way his muscles would tense and relax or the way his ass would flex and tighten as he thrust into Luci’s pussy or Barbara’s mouth and then relax again as he pulled out. Or I’d imagine how he’d look with his hand down some girls pants, taking control and pleasuring her in ways I didn’t understand. His interest in girls was so normal and so healthy, especially compared to my apathy about them. He was a normal teenage boy doing what normal teenage boys do. The hormones. The testosterone. The masculinity. It piqued an interest gaziantep masaj salonları in me perhaps because it was so foreign to me. If his interests and activities were normal, what did that make me and my interest in him? He had a crusty hand towel he’d use to clean himself off with. He’d always go first, then he’d toss it to me, still wet and sticky with his cum. Sometimes it was a struggle to find a clean dry spot to wipe myself down. So most nights, I’d just rub the sticky residue he left on the rag into my skin. I didn’t mind the mess and having my brother’s cum mix in with mine made me feel closer and more connected to him. Of course, I would still have my solo sessions. Bradley would always be the focus. I’d recall the times we’d jerk together face to face, bone to bone, and skin on skin with him shooting his cum on my chest, stomach, and pubes which would, of course, push me over the edge. We didnt really do that much anymore. It went from being a pretty regular thing to not being a thing at all. He’d wank in his bed, I’d do it in mine. But the memory of it was enough to get me going. I’d imagine that sometimes he would get hit with some of my friendly fire but most of the time I was able to control myself and angle my cumshots so that my own juice would join my brother’s on my chest and stomach. I’d remember how it would feel to have him spray all over me. The warmth, the stickiness. It was much hotter directly from the source than secondhand from a crusty old rag. But I’d take what I could get. Those nights seemed relegated to memory and to fantasy now. Why? I wasn’t quite sure. I’d figure it was because he actually had a sexual outlet other than me. More girls for him, meant less Bradley for me. So I was feeling a bit neglected, like I was more of an afterthought. I don’t think that’s how Bradley saw things, but I certainly felt like he was moving on to other things while I was still stuck dealing with…whatever the hell I was feeling. It’s really tough to deal with something when you don’t even have the words to define what it is. I was feeling something, but because I had never felt it before I had no idea what it was or what to do about it. * * * * * * * * * * It was the night before our last day of school before our winter break. I was in bed, restless and excited for the two and half weeks we’d have off for Christmas. Light from the street filtered in through the half open curtain. Bradley was asleep. I threw my covers off and got out of bed. I was standing over him. Just watching him. He was on his stomach, one arm stretched out above his head. His nose was nestled against the crook of his arm. His left arm, the one closest to me, was at his side, palm up. Even in the dark, I could see the dark furriness under his arms. It made my dick tingle. I found myself strangely drawn to armpits. At school, I noticed myself looking at other guys trying to see if they had any hair under there yet. If they did, I figured they probably had hair other places too, which meant they were probably horny and jerkin’ it all the time too. It was a crude but effective method of tracking my classmates development. And I thought I was so clever to make the correllation between pit hair and pubic hair. Of course, that was just basic human biology. I took in his body from head to toe. I noticed for the first time how his body had changed. I saw him every day but I guess it was so gradual I didn’t notice how he was starting gaziantep escort bayan to fill in and thicken up. Where before he was lean and lanky and nothing but arms and legs, now he was solid. His torso was filling in, his shoulders were thicker and wider. His legs and especially his thighs had more muscle to them. Bradley’s leg twitched a bit. He was wearing nothing but his black boxer briefs. They clung to his ass. They almost looked like they were a size too small. Tight. Revealing. I guess all that skateboarding kept his butt firm and his legs toned. I had seen my brother naked too many times to count, but those times I was almost always focused on his dick. I hadn’t really took notice of his ass. But in that underwear, it was hard not to notice. But something else was hard too. Bradley’s breathing was steady. I rubbed my dick through my own briefs. I pulled it out. Might as well, I thought. I jerked off several times a day. In this room. Sure, usually in my bed, but what’s the difference between doing it laying down in my bed and doing it standing up a few feet beside my bed? So what if my brother just happened to be asleep just a few inches from my horned up dick? I started gently stroking myself as he breathed. He was so peaceful. So relaxed. I pictured him fucking Luci. I pictured him jerking off not six feet away from me in his bed. I remembered the feel of his arm wrapped around my shoulder as he pulled me close to him. The way his armpit hair tickled my neck. The closeness I felt to him. I was jerking faster, and more intently as my eyes grazed over him. My strokes quickened. I was fast approaching the point of no return. Bradley was sleeping when I exploded in ecstasy while trying to stifle my gasps so he wouldn’t wake up. It was one of the most intense experiences of my life. My whole body seized and spasmed as my balls shot out a load that hit the wall behind and above Bradley’s sleeping form. My legs nearly buckled as a shiver of pleasure shook my body. After taking a few moments to recover I grabbed the crusty cum rag from under his bed. He always kept it in the same spot. I carefully tried to wipe down the wall without waking him. It was tougher than it should have been because I didnt want to climb on the bed and risk waking him. But I managed as well as I could in the dark. I’d have to wait for morning to be sure, but I didn’t think Bradley would notice. Even if he did I’m sure mine wasn’t the only cum that had splattered on that wall. I was putting his cum rag back where it belonged when something caught my eye. It must have been the contrast that made it stand out, even in the relative darkness. White streaks on black fabric. Black fabric that clung tightly to my brothers backside. His black boxerbriefs, possibly a size too small had streaks of white on them. I played over the scenarios in my head. I could try to wipe it off but that would risk waking him up. I could leave it there and hope he wouldn’t notice. I didn’t think he would be too mad, after all we had both cum on each other a lot in the past. The main difference was that he was always aware and, well, awake during those times. So it was hard to see him being too mad at me just for jerking off. But this felt different. What I was most concerned about was what my cum being on his underwear implied about me: a thirteen year old pervert who was so turned on by his brother’s body that he couldn’t control himself and jerked off on him while he was sleeping. I was in a slight panic, but there was nothing I could really do about it at this point, at least not without the risk of him waking up. By morning it would dry and I was hoping he wouldn’t notice anyway. Suddenly a wave of exhaustion swept over me. It must have been 3 AM when I crawled back into bed and pulled the covers over my head. I was asleep almost immediately.