“Oh no, bro!" 03 (Patreon)

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Chapter 3: Remote Control

I woke up slowly, still coming out of my dream. I had dreamt that I had sucked off Brett, but it didn’t feel strange in the dream. It was just pure horniness. I was probably moments away from it having been a true wet dream, with a crotch full of sticky cum. But in the dream, there was also frustration. He wouldn’t suck me off in return. I was desperately horny in the dream, and woke up flustered, and weirdly desperate for a blowjob. Not from him, but like, still. I had never gotten head or had sex yet in real life, and dreams like that, as bizarre as that one was, only made things more difficult.

I kept my eyes closed, remembering something different had happened last night. Something important. I tried to think about it before I opened my eyes, and only slowly remembered Brett getting into bed with me. The feelings that shot through me were a surge of conflicting vibes. I felt obstinately opposed to his forced nudism and exhibitionism, which seemed formulated to annoy me. But I couldn’t deny how wholesome and nice it felt to have him curl up on my lap, or against me in bed. Whatever he was doing, it was driving me crazy like a wild mind game. He was still pressed against me, our bodies sharing a thin layer of sweat where our skin touched. I just breathed slowly, gently opening my eyes and waiting for the real world to smack me in the face like it did every day. 

When he finally stirred, I felt his hips push into me like a reflex. His big morning wood pressed into my butt cheeks, and I felt his shaft tense and pulse against me. I honestly didn’t blame him for that. I do the same thing whenever I wake up with a pillow or something between my legs. 

But he pushed again. He slowly humped against me, pushing firm. I felt the blood flow into his swollen manhood. It was hard as steel, and impossibly large. It was unfair.

When his hand finally moved up my side, it was like he caught himself. He suddenly stopped, slowly rolling away from me, breaking contact and letting the cool air in between our bodies. I assumed he was probably waking up fully and realizing what he had been doing. I decided to spare him the embarrassment and pretend to just be waking up myself.

I lifted up and stretched my arms over my head. My own morning wood was as hard as his, if only 60% of the size. 

We looked at each other for a moment, quickly nodding to acknowledge each other, but didn’t talk about the night before. We didn’t even make a smirk, or a nervous smile, or any other indication that it hadn’t been normal. It felt like a subtle, nuanced, unspoken rule that only the facial language of brothers can specify. 

He slid out of bed carefully, like he was trying not to make noise, and I followed him quickly. Our eyes were still opening up and accepting the light of day, and we still didn’t speak as we headed to the bathroom to pee, just the quiet sound of footsteps in the hall.

We ended up in the bathroom at the same time, half-asleep, neither of us acknowledging that it was strange that we went into the bathroom together. We jockeyed for position at the toilet, bumping shoulders, starting to laugh. It felt like we were little kids again, which was probably the last time we had squabbled literally over a toilet, both trying to pee. We both kept muttering half-polished taunts at each other. It was too early in the morning to be creative. 

It quickly turned into us standing there quietly, side by side, staring down at our dicks as we peed at the same time. The silence stretched over the sound of two streams hitting the water. It was technically a bizarre thing to do together, but after the transition into this zero-boundary, taboo, quasi-nudist thing he had thrust us into, I didn’t even have the capacity to be surprised anymore. It felt like my pee went longer than normal, like I had a big tank of hydration saved up. But his was matching mine. I think it went on for a full two minutes.

The moment dragged on, and I became painfully aware of how close we were, how, even soft, his dong was clearly bigger than mine. Through all his taunts, he had never mentioned anything real like our size difference. He always kept it theoretical and like he was just making a funny porn script.

Brett broke the silence, with a sudden, weirdly genuine request.

“Wanna shower together?”

It didn’t sound like a joke. That was the problem.

I laughed anyway. “Um… no?”

He smirked. “Good. You’d probably try to fuck me, big bro.”

There it was. The joke. The shield. Except it landed differently now. I rolled my eyes just as I finally finished peeing. I flopped my junk back into my boxer briefs and washed my hands, taking longer than necessary, waiting for him to make up for that joke. Or, maybe, I was waiting to see if he would take it further. 

When I turned, he was watching me in the mirror, just long enough that I noticed. He dropped his underwear and kicked them off, turning on the shower without another joke or comment. 

I left the bathroom, and being alone in the hall for a moment finally knocked me out of the Brett-inspired daze I had been in. I started thinking about my school day ahead, classes, people I would see, what I should wear, how my hair looked, whether I should leave it messy or do something to it. He almost left my thoughts. But, still, he was always in the back of my head. 

—[]—

After school and practice, I came home and found him naked on the couch, back to his annoying exhibitionist ways. His pale white body contrasted with the dark blue fabric of the couch. He had a blanket next to him that he must have been using at some point, but he had kicked it to the side as he lay there playing on his phone with the TV on.

He looked up at me as soon as I walked in, a big smirk on his face. I just sighed and shook my head. 

He rolled over onto his front, showing his butt and shouting, “Oh no, I hope you don’t FUCK me!”

“Jesus christ,” I said quietly, dismissing him as I walked past the couch to the hallway. “Don’t you have any less disgusting jokes?”

“You love it,” he muttered as I left the room.

I studied and played on my computer for a few hours. Around 9pm, I heard mom and dad come home, and talk to Brett for a bit.

“Why are you always in your underwear lately?” I heard mom ask him. 

At least he has those on, I thought to myself, chuckling. I couldn’t hear his muffled response.

“Because he’s a freak!” I yelled down the hall.

I heard dismissive grunts from the living room, before a brief conversation out there. Mom and dad went to their room and shut the door. They always worked late, leaving me alone with the little monster that Brett had become. 

When I heard Brett go to his room as well, I decided to take advantage of the empty living room and enjoy a comfy TV sesh on the big couch. 

When I plopped down and melted into the cushions, the world felt like a good place. It was comfy and wholesome. I felt like a little baby again. I threw the big blanket over myself and put on an old show I liked on hulu. I even put my phone down just to watch TV for a bit. 

My hands naturally drifted to my crotch, like they always do when I’m alone. Not even necessarily to masturbate, just a comforting reflex to grip my balls and dick and make sure they’re still there, or something like that. 

Naturally, my hands dipped below my waistband and cupped my balls and dick together, pushing them into the shape of a ball between my hands. I felt the sparse pubes on my balls, and my respectable bush above my dick. I sort of absent-mindedly played with myself for a few minutes while watching Modern Family until Brett walked in, interrupting my me-time.

He sat too close to me, and I just scooted away like I was respectfully giving him space, but there was subtext that I was rejecting his recent cuddly vibes. Then he shifted again so our legs touched, and I didn’t move away that time. The TV kept playing, and he started shifting repeatedly like he was trying to get comfortable. I knew what was happening. He was getting restless. I could subconsciously track his moods by now, and I knew something lewd and explicit was coming. 

I gripped the remote in my hands, prepared to smack him with it. Not the small Apple TV remote, but the big one with the rounded edges that came with the TV itself. It had some weight to it, and I knew it would be a decisive ouchie against his skin if he tried to fuck with me.

Then it came. His next crude escalation. In a fraction of a second, he shifted his body toward me and lifted his legs, pulling down his underwear to show me his ass again, with his big dick and balls flopping around at the same time. He pulled his cheeks apart more quickly than I could even react.

I had never been this close to his full-hole surprise before. I could feel the heat coming from between his cheeks. I could instantly smell his musk, that boy smell that stays on the body even after showering. 

“Does this look like a starfish mouth to you?” he said quickly, like he had been thinking about it. 

Almost reflexively, I grabbed the remote and shoved the blunt end right at his little, pink starfish hole, pushing hard into him. It didn’t actually go in the hole obviously, but I definitely made him feel it. 

I started laughing as soon as his entire body jerked. I grabbed his hip, holding him in place and kept shoving the remote in, as he giggled and squirmed around like it tickled him, even though I was pushing harder than that. He was definitely feeling what it would be like to get punched right on the butthole. It finally hit me that I was much bigger and stronger than him, and he had only gotten so bold because I had never exerted my muscles over him before. I had a natural aversion to pushing back against him, and he had tested my limits. I was finally feeling the thrill of calling his bluff, roughhousing the way he wanted.

“Ok! Ok! You win!” he said, tapping out. 

But I didn’t give in that easily. 

“What? I can’t hear you!” I said loudly, gripping his butt cheek and finding new angles to stuff the remote up his ass. His perky little butt cheeks tensed and spasmed repeatedly, his legs flailing aimlessly in the air.

“Oh my god!” He shouted in a burst of laughter, just as I was getting the perfect angle to shove it deep. I might’ve even stretched his poor little hole a tiny bit. I wasn’t sure. I was almost curious what he was feeling at that moment, getting your ass punched in repeatedly.

Suddenly, before I even realized it, I was frozen in a daze. His random kicking into the air had knocked me right in the head, hazing out my thoughts for a second. I lay back on the couch, dropping the remote. 

“Oh shit!” he said, jumping over to me and looking me closely in the face. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah,” I said, coming to my senses, “That was a wicked kick.”

“I’m sorry it was an accident!” he said, still chuckling.

“Yeah, no, I know,” I said, “I was asking for it anyway.”

I looked down and saw his dick and balls were still out, resting on my leg.

“Get your balls off me,” I said, and we chuckled as he sat back, pulling up his underwear. 

We quietly watched TV for a bit more, our legs meeting in the middle of the couch, not playing footsy or anything, just sort of resting against each other. After a few minutes, he shifted, and I thought he would be getting up to go to bed. 

But instead, he leaned back against me casually, and I felt the tension and energy leave his body. He was entering chill mode. I hesitated, then put my arm around him, my hand resting on his chest. I felt his breathing steady under my palm. I rubbed slow, absentminded circles, and he didn’t stop me.

—[]— 

The next day was suspiciously quiet. And the day after that as well. I had finally called his bluff to an extent by shoving a remote up his ass, and it seemed like it had actually made a difference. In a way, I wondered if he was ok. I even started to miss his brazen acts of lewdness. It felt sort of strange for him to act so normal for a full day, let alone two.

One night, after our parents went to sleep, I felt a strange urge to get out of bed. In my head, I was just going to get a glass of water, but a part of me knew I was going to see if Brett’s door was open again. 

When I stepped into the hallway, my eyes darted to his room. It was closed. I felt a slight disappointment, but couldn’t even admit to myself why. Still, I tiptoed slowly in my socks down the stairs toward the living room and kitchen, not making a single decibel of noise. I told myself I wasn’t looking for anything, but part of me knew that the light coming in from the living room might be Brett on the couch again.

I almost tripped over a pair of underwear on the floor. I looked down, and even in the dark I knew what they were. I hated that I recognized the exact pair. It was his red boxer briefs with the black trim. I picked them up with my foot, flipping them up into my hands, and caught them without thinking. The surprise was that they were warm to the touch. He had taken them off only moments before I got there. He must have been sneaking around quietly himself. 

I was just going to carry them to his room and leave them on his doorknob as some sort of joke or statement or something, but before I even realized what I was doing, I brought them to my face, taking in a big whiff of the fabric. My mind flashed to the moment on the couch, when his open butt cheeks were so close to me that I smelled him fully. The smell of his crotch and ass spiked through my brain like a jolt of electricity. 

What the fuck? I thought to myself, shocked that I had done that. I told myself that maybe I wasn’t so strange, but either way, I should probably not do that again, and put Brett out of my head. 

I almost forgot what I was doing as I came to the living room entryway, and saw Brett on the couch, in the exact same spot I saw him jerking off before. My stomach tensed when I saw his big, heavy dick out again, boned up and clearly ready to do something spicy with himself.

Fuck, I thought to myself, knowing immediately that I was going to quietly watch yet another display that I was never meant to see. Here we go again.

The TV was on but muted. He was relaxed, spread out, completely alone and completely not hiding what he was doing. He had his knees up, his big boner resting on his stomach as he casually rubbed himself with one hand, holding his phone with the other. 

I squinted to try and see what was on his phone screen. It didn’t look like regular porn. It was some porn star girl just talking to the camera. 

He must be watching one of those “jerk off instruction” videos, I thought to myself, What a freak. Kind of hot though.

Then in the video, the girl leaned back and lifted her legs, revealing a big dildo in her hand. She squirted a bunch of lube on it and started inserting it while she kept talking.

Ok, I thought, Not the weirdest porn but still kind of odd. Then I got the biggest surprise of my life so far. 

Brett lifted the TV remote, which was glistening with a layer of something on it, and brought it between his legs, shoving it into his cheeks.

My jaw dropped. My body tensed. My stomach flipped. WHAT THE FUCK.

I couldn’t even process what I was seeing. He was actually putting the remote up his ass to jerk off. I got that nervous boner that I always got when something crazy happened. It always happened when Brett did shit like this. But this wasn’t even one of his lewd jokes made to antagonize me. He was literally just minding his own business, and shoving our family remote up his ass. The same one I had shoved between his cheeks a few days prior, on the same couch. 

I started to feel weirdly guilty for a moment, like I must be responsible for him getting a taste for anal stimulation. But at the same time, it was really his fault for escalating it to that level. And honestly, I was curious how good it must feel if he was going through all this effort to do it.

I watched as he pressed it between his cheeks, up to his hole, pulling back, and pushing again. It wasn’t really going in, as far as I could tell. But I guessed that would take more practice. 

He set aside the remote, and put down his phone. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, gripping his heavy dick with one hand and put a finger to his hole with the other. He proceeded to stroke himself slowly with a tight grip, while he inserted a finger under his balls. I watched him enter himself quickly, like it wasn’t difficult.

I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t explain it, and didn’t want to admit it, but I had to jerk off too. I pulled myself out of my underwear, and gripped my throbbing, aching, red meat pole tightly, just trying to make the tension go down.

Soon it looked like he had multiple fingers in his ass. He opened the video again to look more closely at something, then grabbed the remote.

This time, he shoved it with more force and apparent determination. My face dropped in awe when I watched the end of the remote disappear a full inch under his balls. 

He was literally fucking himself with the remote.

The plastic length of it entered him, and I watched his body tighten up and tense. He grabbed his shaft again with his other hand and jerked himself rapidly. It was like he had finally achieved something important and wanted to get the amazing nut he was looking for before his ass decided it couldn’t take any more. 

I rubbed myself in unison with him, doing something together, even if he didn’t know it. He started to rock his body back and forth, in that strange way guys do sometimes when their mind is gone and they’re close to cumming.

As I stroked myself, staring at him, it was like I could feel what he was feeling. I even reached behind me and grabbed my ass, running a finger over my hole, thinking about what penetration must be like. 

I could sense when he was close, just from the body language and the pace of his hand blurring over his shaft. I even saw the remote twitch, like his hole was about to pulse. I was over the edge in seconds, cumming into the underwear in my hands without thinking about it, just as I saw his white ropes fly out and coat his abs, one shot even shooting up to his chest. 

It looked like he came a shit ton more than I had ever seen, even in porn. My own load soaked through the underwear in my hand, and I could feel it leaking through.

After cumming, he lay back frozen, slowly working the remote out of himself, even though it only must have been an inch or two inside him.

I became suddenly hyper-aware of what I was doing, in my own post-nut moment of realization. I dropped the soggy pair of underwear from my hands, tip-toeing rapidly back to my room and shutting the door. 

I lay there staring at the ceiling, heart pounding, knowing there was no going back to before that happened. He did something strange. And I did something even worse by spying on him and matching him stroke for stroke. The only thing that got me to fall asleep was telling myself that it would never happen again, and he would never find out. 

I slept calmly, until I woke up the next morning, my eyes shooting open like I had been slapped in the face with the realization that I had left his underwear soaked in my cum right in his path back to his room.

“Oh, fuck,” I muttered aloud to myself, watching the sun shine in through my window across my room to my door. 

I heard the slightest footsteps, then a door opening across the hall, and then a light knock on my door.