Painting Donovan

I'll let comments from you readers determine whether this instalment is an ending in itself or merely a cliff-hanger. –K

*

Six months after Donovan moved in we got a call from Mom.

The day was a sweltering hot one in July, which was uncharacteristic enough of Vancouver to warrant a heat-wave warning. With no air conditioning in our loft, we were hot, sweaty, and wanting to get naked. So we did. And once the clothes came off, it was just me and two-hundred pounds of sweaty hockey-honed meat sitting there getting horny. But not for long.

It was too hot to fuck in bed. So Don had me ride him while he lay on the hardwood floor, the camcord turned on a couple feet from us. The camcord was a new and sporadic thing. Knowing that we were creating a rare commodity was part of the turn on. Real Brothers Fucking: The Collector's Edition.

In the beginning, Donovan had been dead set against it, so it fell to me to make him see the light. I taped one of our sessions and uploaded it later onto our computer. The next day I sent him a text from work suggesting he check the clip I'd saved on the desktop but left out what it was. As luck would have it I walked in the door just as he'd bust a nut with the video still playing, cum dripping down his rock hard abs and a shit-eating grin on his face.

We had fun that night. He'd gotten into videotaping our sessions after that, especially zooming in as his cock rammed my ass. He said he liked seeing the texture of the skin around my sphincter as it clung to his cock when he pulled out and gave way when he pushed it back in. We knew part of the turn on was because we fucked without a condom. It was a guilty pleasure, but we'd both gotten tested and we knew we were clean.

Clean, however, our floor wasn't, but on that particular hot day in July I didn't give a damn. Don's sticky ass was doing some on-the-spot blotting and it was fucking awesome.

That was when my cell rang.

"Hey Mom." I said, taking the call.

"What the fuck—" Don hissed beneath me.

"Hello Darren. What are you doing? You sound out of breath."

"I'm playing with Don," I told her, grinning. Don scowled but kept on thrusting.

"What are you two playing?"

"It's nothing, just a game we invented."

"Well, it's nice to hear you spending time with your brother, Darren."

"Uh huh," I groaned. Don wasn't being gentle. "So how are things in Lillooet?"

"Oh, the same as always." She told me something about a hairdresser and the state of the grape harvest. It was all real hard to process with my brother's cock ramming my ass. Eventually there was a pause on the other end.

"Darren?" asked my mother.

"What?"

She sighed. "Were you even listening to anything I said? Really Darren, I don't know why I even bother."

"Sorry Mom." I apologize with an effort.

"I was just asking you how you and your brother were doing."

"Oh we're doing great! You want to talk to him?"

"Well, actually Darren—"

I put the phone on the floor next to Don's ear and left it there.

If looks could kill..."Hey Mum," said Don through gritted teeth. "Wassup?"

Now I could have some real fun. While Don talked, I used one hand in front and one behind me to work my hole over his big curved cock. It was hard being quiet, knowing how bad we were being. Getting fucked by my brother with my mother on the other line wasn't easy to top.

I leaned over to suck Don's nipple, deliberately letting my teeth graze it. He yelped.

"Sorry Mum," Don apologized, glaring at me. "Darren's being an ass."

I was close to the phone just then so I heard Mom say, "You boys play nice, now."

Don said to me, "Mum wants to know if you want to go home next weekend to celebrate Ashley's birthday."

"Sure. Sounds good," We could be going to China tomorrow for all I cared.

Don went back into the phone. "Ok we'll be there. Listen Mum, I gotta go now. Bye."

Chucking the phone across the room, he rolled on top of me. Taking both my arms by the wrists he put them over my head and held them there with an iron grip.

"Now you're gonna get it," he growled. He pressed my shoulder down with his free hand as he slammed into my prostate. Bam bam bam! Shit, if he kept this up I was going to have burns from the hardwood. I was loving it.

"Mom said to play nice." I reminded him between gasps.

"Yup." Don had become a blur of sweat, muscle, and heat. There was no way of stopping this train now. We were going to blow each other to smithereens.

"Don't think fucking your bro... is nice... awwww!"

I came, hot wet spunk splattering all over Don's chest even as he shut me up with a kiss that was rough enough to draw blood. He came in me then too, my brother's cum pumping into my convulsing anal canal, coating it nice and thick.

* * *

On the day before we were to leave, I hung out with JC at his place. He'd wanted company while he worked to change the kitchen sink. JC was hands-on guy and an electrician by trade. I was leaning against the counter with a beer and he was lying on his back shirtless underneath the sink when I told him we were going to Lillooet for the weekend.

"What, that dump? What for?" was his response. We'd grown up in the same town.

"Ashley's birthday." I told him.

"Now that makes even less sense." JC scooted out a little so he could look at me, his ab muscles flexing as he did. "Hard to see what's there for her."

I shrugged. It had puzzled me too. My sister's idea of a good time was twelve shots of tequila and a toilet.

"Maybe she's hoping to get your whole family high." JC grinned. "Dang, I'd hate to miss that."

JC was a good looking guy with a weird sense of humour. If you were to compare them, Don always came across as the rougher, more untrustworthy of the two, but JC was the real one to watch because he was smarter and infinitely more dangerous. Anytime there'd been funny business in Lillooet you could pretty well bet JC was behind it. Moving to Vancouver he'd developed street smarts and a lean and mean torso that screamed 'fuck me'. He had one of those chests that looked completely hairless all the way down unless you inspected closely because he was an au-naturel blond. Growing up as the only gay guys we knew in Lillooet we'd gone the whole nine yards in our exploratory phase. Gradually we'd realized our interests clashed (JC discovered he was a total bottom) and we were better off as friends.

"Hey, I just thought of something. Since you and Don are going anyway, you think you could ask Don to pick up the toolbox I left at Mom's place last Christmas?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Why don't I just go over there myself?" I paused. "Your mom still hates me that much?"

"'Fraid so, Darren... You know how much I've tried to fix that. It's better this way, trust me." He rubbed my leg. It was rare these days for him to be affectionate. Still, he'd saved my life once, and there was no one I trusted more in the world other than maybe Don. We'd put our friendship to the test more than once, and none more so than the time he was alluding to now.

I'd decided to come out to my family three years ago. I'd made the decision after a guy I'd been seeing threatened to out me if I broke up with him. By that point I'd already realized he was a nut case and just crazy enough to do it. For a month I stalled, waiting till I was back in Lillooet for the summer. If I was going to be outed, I wanted my family to hear from me first.

Naturally I told JC of my intentions. He'd wanted to have the guy "taken care of", but I told him no. He'd been mad, which he never got unless he was scared. It wasn't just for me, but for himself, because he knew he'd be outed by association. We'd been too close and the town too small.

I told Don next. I could tell it bothered him, but when I told my parents and Dad flipped out as expected, he'd stood there next to me with his arms around my shoulders. I told our half-sister Liz in Toronto and she'd been surprised. Ashley I told last. She'd simply snorted and rolled her eyes, "Finally. Was wondering how long it would take." Apparently she'd known all along.

JC I didn't hear from until weeks later, when he showed up on my driveway. He said he'd told his mother (his father had died years ago) and apologized for being an ass. That would have been that if his mother hadn't decided on her own that I'd somehow been the one to "turn" her son. I wasn't welcome in her house anymore, and when I saw her in the grocery store days later, she'd ignored me, which hurt because she'd been like a second mother to me.

As for the guy who'd threatened to out me, I found out a couple weeks later that he'd been hospitalized for smoke inhalation and second degree burns after the townhouse he was renting caught fire. In the ensuing investigation, a loose wire had been found to be the culprit, a common enough occurrence in houses of that age. I had my suspicions, however. When I told JC afterwards he'd shot me his dimples and murmured "funny that," with a gleam in his eye.

I had a policy of letting sleeping dogs lie. He, on the other hand, had no such inhibitions.

With his voice muffled beneath the sink, JC asked now, "So, who's this mysterious new guy you've been seeing for the past six months?"

I was glad he couldn't see me, otherwise he might have seen a deer caught in the headlights. I decided to temporize. "What makes you think I've been seeing someone?"

He sighed in exasperation and pushed out of the sink enough to look at me. "Come on, Darren. You know better than to try to pull this kind of shit on me. I'd known you, what, how long?"

"What you talking about? I'm enjoying the single life."

"Bullshit. BULL SHIT. See, me and you, we're different. Me, I'm a slut. I own up. You, on the other hand, are a serial monogamist. You think I don't notice all that stuff in your room that's not yours?"

"It's Don's." It was true.

"Uh huh. Your brother leaves his underwear in your room?"

I almost panicked. I'd been so careful...Then my eyes narrowed. "There's no underwear –"

JC laughed. He actually laughed. "I know. You should have seen your face though."

Did I mention he was evil?

"The truth of the matter is, your room's been so fucking clean these days, it's obvious that you clean up before I come. You never used to do that. So that got me thinking. Why'd you go through all that trouble? The answer was obvious – you're trying to keep me from figuring out who's been hanging around. It's someone I know, isn't it?"

"So the fact that I decide to clean my room means—"

"Yup."

"Pffff. You're crazy." I folded my arms.

JC just smiled. "Alright, keep your secrets. But just so we're clear, if you ever wanna talk, no matter how crazy it is, I'm here for you, 'k?"

"Yeah." I said tightly. "I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

Lillooet was town of about a thousand people about four hours northeast of Vancouver. The fastest way to get there was to take Highway 99 through Whistler. We ended up not leaving till noon because Don had wanted to get in one more plough before we left. Resistance had been futile – he'd started talking in his coaxing tone, rubbing my crotch with his, and before I knew it I was flat on my stomach getting rimmed.

Late in the afternoon, we drove past the Lillooet Welcome sign and the little one-way bridge where the fishing was good in the fall. A little further down was Lois's Diner where you could get fish and chips for $5.99 and a drink for another buck. Then that brought us to the Bale Market. This was the little convenience store our parents had operated since as long as I could remember. It was, unsurprisingly, closed. A hard right turn later we pulled up into the driveway of the blue one-story bungalow that I'd called home for eighteen years.

Donovan killed the engine, flashed me a wordless smile, and gave my thigh a squeeze. I watched as he lumbering out of the car and stretched, his back muscles rolling beneath his shirt.

Damn. This wasn't going to be easy.

Dad got the door with Mom close behind.

"Well, better late than never," said Dad gruffly by way of greeting.

"Oh Nick... the boys got here safe and sound and that's all that matters," said Mom warmly.

And there you have it. Our parents. Dad stood in for Mr. Character while Mom managed Health and Safety. Don had a lot of Dad's looks – the square jaw, the hooded brown eyes, the dark hair (though Dad's was starting to grey) – but Don's personality was thankfully devoid of our father's moralizing. Mom, meanwhile, had what could be described as a full figure, though from looking at her old high school photos I knew there'd been a time when she'd been as thin as Dad. I'd inherited her pointed chin and nose, but Don and I had the same eyes.

Suddenly, two bundles of legs and arms burst into the hallway.

"Uncle Don! Uncle Don!" cried the older one, whose name was Nathan. He was five. Christie, who was three, contented herself with dragging a doll across the floor. Both gazed worshipfully up at Don.

"Heya there, squirt!" boomed Don, a broad smile on his face. Crouching down he easily lifted both kids into his arms. They giggled as he stood back up, carrying them clear off their feet. Don was good with kids, a thought that gave me an unexpected pang of sadness. He wouldn't have any if he stuck around with me.

"Darren."

"Liz." I smiled as I looked up. We hugged. At 35, my half-sister was a good ten years older than me. Liz was the "accident" that had resulted in Mom marrying another man at the tender age of nineteen. She'd never been pretty, but what she lacked for in looks she more than made up for in smarts. Liz was a lawyer, and married. Her husband hadn't come because he had to work.

"So you're the mother of these brats, eh?" I grinned.

She sighed. "So it seems. I sometimes wonder."

"They sure have grown."

"You're telling me! Nathan's gone through three pant sizes in the past year. Three!" she shook her head in disbelief.

"It's too bad Christie's a girl. All Mom had to do was give me Don's hand-me-downs," I said ruefully. In actuality had been a bit of a turn-on to wear my brother's clothes. Maybe that's how it all started.

"So how was Rome?" I asked Liz. I knew she'd just come back from holidaying there.

"Oh it was fabulous! You would have liked it, such a beautiful city. Oh, and you too Nick. All those Ferarri's!" Liz always referred to our father by his first name.

"You know Liz," remarked Dad, "I once thought I'd travel the world."

"Really? When was this?"

Dad turned to Mom. "How long have we been married?" he deadpanned.

"Twenty-nine years." She didn't looking at him.

"There you have it. Twenty-nine years ago."

"Nick."

"Yes dear?"

"Your fly is down."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Dad zipped up sheepishly. "Was I putting on a show?"

"No," she sniffed. "A dead bird won't fall out of its cage."

There was an awkward silence with the score tied at one all.

"So," I chimed in, "Where's Ashley?"

Mom frowned. "I thought she was coming with you."

Don and I shook our heads.

Dad threw up his hands in exasperation, "Her birthday and she doesn't deign to show up. That girl has no sense of decency."

"I hope she isn't still on the road when the storm hits tonight," said Mom. She had a worried crease on her brow.

* * *

The storm turned out to be one whopper of a tropical depression. We finished dinner just before the electricity was cut. With still no sign of Ashley, there was nothing to do but to turn in for the night. Don and I went to our separate rooms. For about half an hour after everyone had gone to bed I listened to the pitter-patter of the rain and the drumming of distant thunder.

Then I crept into Don's room. "Hey," I whispered, opening his door a crack.

"Hey," back came Don's gravelly reply in the darkness. I closed the door behind me.

"Still scared of the thunder, lil' bro?" he drawled, referring to the countless times I'd coming knocking on his door in the middle of the night when we were kids. I scooted into bed and he enveloped me in his big arms.

"Not when I sleep with you."

"So why'd you stop coming?"

"I was more scared of you noticing how hard you made me."

"Hmm. You weren't the only one." Don took my hand and put it on his underwear-covered crotch. He was as hard as a rock. In an instant I was too.

"I used to steal your underwear." I confessed.

"Fuck, really?"

"Yeah."

"What did you do with them?"

"Sniff them as I jacked off."

"Fuuuuck. That's sooo...." he growled, "...hot." He started humping my crotch.

I groaned. "Don, we can't. I don't know if I can be quiet."

Don arched his back and slid his underwear off. With it bunched up in his hand he cooed, "Open wide."

"What—" He stuffed it into my mouth. "—Mrrrrh!"

"Yah, I love you too," he chuckled softly. "Now turn over."

The full aroma of sex hit me and the last shreds of my caution morphed into cock. I turned over. I went on all four, looking at him expectantly. Maybe I even wagged my butt a little. Really, there was nothing I could do at this point.

He slowly slid my underwear down to my knees and then left it there. "Mmm... my lil' ass," he marvelled between kisses on my butt cheeks.

He slapped it once and said, "wait here," as he rubbed the burn in.

I looked over as he went over to the window where he'd left his pants and rummaged through his pockets. A flash of lightning caught him in profile, bringing out the contours of his body. There was the outline of his jaw, the dip of his massive trap muscles, the deep cleft in his chest, the meander of his abs, and at the end of it...his long hard cock. In his hand he held a small bottle. Lube.

Back on the bed, he knelt as he applied it to his cock and pawed some around my hole. He leaned over me and ran his fingers through my hair, pulling my head back to rumble in a low voice, "You have no idea how long I've dreamt this, you coming into my room, and we doing this." He teased his cock up and down my crack. "God have mercy," he rasped. The gag muffled my moan. There was always something about the full weight of Don on top of me that felt right. That and the heat rising between us.

"You ready for some friction, bro?" growled Don.

"Mrrrh!" I enthused.

Achingly slowly, he slid his cock up my chute. The lube smoothed the way, making it easier than when he fucked me dry. He started thrusting. The sweet fucking sensation had me pounding the bed with my fist before long.

There was a flash of lightning followed by a thunderous boom.

"Aw don't let the thunder scare you Darren," Don grunted. "Your brother won't let anything happen... while he's fucking you."

My brother's bare cock always got adventurous when he started talking like that. He'd plow new depths and probe new niches till every pore of pleasure was tapped. One of his palms smeared sweat and lube across my chest as he rode me. Shit, I thought. Mounted and mated to my brother. But Don was the hottest guy I'd ever been with, and I knew I was his match. Why else would God make two animals like us than to have us breed each other like bunnies? With Don's underwear clenched between my teeth, his sweat dripping all over me, and my dick swinging with each slap of flesh, it all seemed to make sense. This was wholesome and good fucking. I was going to get my brother's strong seed. We were wise to mate in this place where we'd grown into men.

Sweet. Fucking. Brother. He was going to burst my cum well soon, I could tell. All he had to do was punch his meat into my hot anal cavity a couple more times...

Suddenly, there was a bang, and some part of me distinguished it as a door and not thunder. But I was being fucked. I was close. This was more important.

"Darren?"

A female voice. Ashley.

I was cumming, hot jets of well-fucked semen. And then Donovan was cumming too, but he was already pulling out, desperately spewing in me, on me, everywhere.