My Older Brother's Hung Friend Caught Me Looking 04: Mystery Sex (Patreon)

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Chapter 4: Mystery Sex

He pulled out of my throat fast enough that my head snapped forward, and a rope of spit came with it and hung off my chin. I coughed into the comforter. Before I got a full breath he had a fist in my hair and a hand under my ribs and he flipped me, and I went over onto my back on my bed, with my legs already coming apart because I knew what he was going to do next.

He grabbed both my knees and shoved them up quickly to my chest. His shirt was still on. His shoes were still on my carpet, planted at the edge of the mattress, and his shorts were down around one ankle. I was naked and folded up under him with my ass off the comforter and nothing under it.

He went in with one push.

There was no stretch to it. The other guy had already opened me up all the way. I was doing a sloppy seconds for the first time. I was still wet with everything he'd left, and Charlie slid all the way to his hips in a single stroke and sighed slowly, like he had been looking forward to this. He was bigger than the guy from before, wider at the base, and my body took him without any of the burn from the first two times, and I hated how good it was.

"Look at that," he said. "Little slut is loose."

He started banging me on the first pull-back without easing into it, the frame of my bed knocking the wall the same way it had an hour before. Dylan's TV was still running on the other side of that wall. Charlie didn't lower his voice one notch.

"Somebody got in here before me," he said, driving down. "In your bed. In your ass."

My ankles were up by his shoulders and my knees were pressed into my own chest and I could see his face for the first time. Both other times I had been face down or blindfolded, and now I could see every part of him working, his jaw set, his eyes moving between my face and where he was going in and out of me. He shifted his grip to the backs of my thighs and pushed them wider and got his weight over the top of me so he was coming down almost vertically.

"You hear yourself?" he said.

My ass was making more noise than my mouth, the loud, wet, squishy slaps at my ass mirroring the high and loud grunts I released from my throat. I had my hand over my own mouth trying to stop it. He pulled my wrist away and pinned it down by my head.

"No. Let 'em hear it."

I didn't say anything, giving him the full control he demanded.

He fucked me like that with the wall knocking and my brother's show talking to itself through the drywall, and my dick was straight up against my stomach the whole time, dripping onto my own skin, and he never touched it once. My brother's navy tie was lying on the mattress by my hip where I'd put it down, and it jumped every time the bed took his weight.

"Say who's fucking you."

"You are."

"Say my name."

"Charlie."

"Louder."

I said it louder. He drove down harder for it and I saw white for a second at the back of my eyes.

When he shifted his knees, he slowed down and stayed deep, grinding on me, moving his hips in circles, poking me in yet new spots on my insides. He put one forearm across my chest to hold me flat.

"Who was in here," he said.

"I don't know."

He pulled back and slammed in and my whole body slid six inches up the bed.

"Don't do that. Who was it."

"I swear to God, I don't know."

"You had a dick inside you an hour ago and you don't know whose."

"He blindfolded me. And I thought it was you."

"What the fuck."

He never slowed down for a single question. He kept working himself in and out of me at the same pace while he talked.

"Where's the blindfold."

I got my free hand out sideways and found the tie on the mattress where I'd left it, and pulled it up between us and held it against his chest. He took it out of my fingers.

He kept fucking me, but slower, and lifted the tie up in front of his own face in the dark. He turned it over once. I watched him look at the silver stripe and his mouth opened like he was going to say something, and then he closed it. He balled the tie up in his fist and put the fist down on the mattress by my shoulder and left it there, and he did not ask another question about it.

He started fucking me harder again, and gently pulled the tie over my head, behind my neck, before crossing it in the front, pulling it around me. He didn't choke me, but he let me know that it was possible.

"Was he bigger than me?"

"Not even close."

"Did he get as deep as I do?"

"No."

"Say it."

"Nobody gets as deep as you."

His hips slapped into the backs of my thighs loudly enough that combined with the bed shaking, I stopped being able to hear the TV in the next room. My headboard hit the wall on every stroke, and the TV was gone under it, just the frame and both of us.

His hand came up off my shoulder and closed around the front of my throat, actually squeezing me over the tie, enough that I felt a rush to my head. He leaned his weight into my body and tensed up, beginning his orgasm. His fingers pressed in at both sides of my neck, and I had one thin channel of air left as he watched my face, cumming inside me. He shoved deep three or four more times and then buried himself and held it there, throbbing. His chest heaved above me and his fist with Dylan's tie in it dropped down to my shoulder.

He came out of me slowly and I felt even more mess drain back out onto my poor comforter.

He got off the bed and stood, and he took my arm and pulled, and I slid off the end of the mattress and my knees hit the carpet. He stood over me with his shirt on and his shorts around his ankles and his dick going slightly softer, hanging down slowly, shining wet in the light coming under my door.

"Clean up," he said.

I didn't understand. He put two fingers under my chin and tipped my head down toward his dick.

"Get it all"

I looked up at him and stuck my tongue out. He bent my head back with a fist in my hair and pulled my face into his crotch.

He was thick and rubbery in my mouth, and heavy on my tongue, and he tasted like my own ass, and also like a new guy was mixed in, sour and slightly sweet, slick and not fully Charlie, and I closed my lips around him and worked my tongue along the underside and up over the head, straining my jaw to yet again work on his massive meat with my mouth. And I got everything I could.

He pushed his head forward and made me take him deeper, and he held me there with his fingers in my hair while I licked him clean.

He pulled me off and held his hand in front of my mouth, the one that had been between my cheeks earlier, the fingers still wet.

I opened and he pushed two fingers in and I sucked them clean, and he ran them over my tongue and along the inside of my cheek until there was nothing left on them.

Then he took my jaw in one hand and squeezed until my mouth came open on its own, and he tilted my face up toward him. He worked his mouth for a second and spat into me. It hit the middle of my tongue, warm.

"Swallow."

I swallowed.

"Say thank you."

"Thank you."

"Good," he said, and let go of my face.

He pulled his shorts up off his ankles, and got the drawstring, and I stayed on the carpet at the foot of my bed with my ass wet and my knees stinging. He still had the tie balled in his other hand. He got to my door and stopped with his hand on it.

"Is he coming back?"

"I don't know."

"If anybody comes in this room, you text me." He looked at me a second longer. "Anybody."

He came back three steps and dropped the tie on my desk, on top of my keyboard, and then he left and pulled my door shut behind him.

I got up onto the bed and lay down in the wet part because the dry part was on the other side and I didn't feel like moving. I listened to his shoes go down the hall and down the stairs and I heard the front door, and then his car started out in the street and pulled away.

It finally hit me that after the first guy left, I never heard the stairs, or a door, or anything besides a few footsteps.

Dylan's TV cut off a few seconds after the front door closed.

····[]····

In the morning Mom had a podcast playing in the kitchen and Dylan was already down there in a t-shirt and dark blue boxer brief underwear, standing at the open silverware drawer.

I came up on his left to get a spoon and he put his hip into mine and moved me a foot to the side, took a fork out, and shut the drawer.

"Morning," I said.

He didn't say it back.

I got the cereal box off the counter and he took it out of my hand on the way past, lifted it out of my fingers and poured himself a bowl and put it back down. I stood there with an empty bowl.

"Dylan, honey, did you call about the alignment?" Mom said from the sink.

"Yeah, Tuesday at eight," he said, in his normal voice. "They said it'd be an hour. Might take the truck instead."

"Take the truck."

"That's what I'm thinking."

I put bread in the toaster and stood there waiting on it, and he came and stood behind me. Not beside me, behind me, close enough that I could feel him there, reaching over my shoulder for the butter dish on the shelf above the toaster, and his bicep brushed my ear on the way back down. He stayed there a second after he had it. I could smell his body, his arm pit. 

"You want something?" I said.

"Nope."

He went and sat at the table. I ate standing up at the counter.

When Mom went out to the garage I put my bowl in the sink and turned around.

"Everything okay?" I asked.

He looked at me. He chewed. He picked his phone up off the table and stood and walked his bowl over and set it in the sink next to mine, milk still in it, and went out of the kitchen without a word.

····[]····

I took my phone upstairs and sat on the corner of my bed on the dry side.

Me: Okay who the fuck was the other guy last night

Charlie: Dude I have no idea

Me: Somebody was in my house

Charlie: Yeah...

I started to type a theory that I didn't want to admit to myself, so I erased it

Me: Did you tell anyone?

No response for a while. I was putting the phone down when it buzzed again.

Charlie: Text me if he comes back. I wanna know.

····[]····

That night I put clean sheets on the bed and stuffed the ruined comforter into the bottom of my closet, where I had stashed the soiled shorts before I had snuck them into the laundry. I lay on my back with the lamp off and ran through every guy who had ever come in our back gate, and every name broke on some detail. The shaved chest. The skinny ribs laid across my spine. The fingers that knotted a tie behind my head on the first try. Dylan had a lot of friends, and they were all similar to him in some way, so I was loosely describing my brother, which made me chuckle, because obviously it couldn't be him. But nobody else fit all of the descriptors, so I was stumped, and I basically stopped trying to make sense of it as I closed my eyes, strangely hoping he would come back. 

Charlie had grabbed me and tossed me around and choked me, and I loved every second of being handled like that. But the mystery guy had rubbed my stomach and treated me like he loved me. He'd pinched my nipple, and never said a word, and under him I had felt calm, almost safe, which made no sense at all, because a stranger had walked into my room in the dark and fucked me and left.

My phone sat on the nightstand. If anybody comes in this room, you text me.

I rolled onto my side, facing away from it, and fell asleep.

····[]····

I woke up in the pitch black, and my door was open.

No strip of light under the door, no light in the hall, and a shape stood in my doorway, tall and unmoving, darker than the dark around it. I couldn't see a face. I couldn't see hands. My heart slammed up into my throat and my dick was already stiffening against my underwear before I was fully awake.

I didn't reach for the phone.

I rolled over, turning my back to the door, and pulled my knees up under me and sat back on my heels. I pushed my forehead down into the pillow, and raised my ass into the air in my underwear, presenting it toward the doorway, the same way I had waited for him the first time.

The door clicked shut. The footsteps came across the carpet toward my bed, and I accepted that I didn't need to know who this was, because maybe I just shouldn't know.