Gay Twin Switch

Gay Twin Switch (bi)

I have a love-hate relationship with my twin brother. We have each other's backs. Blood is thicker than water. But he's mistreated me over the years going back as far as I can remember.  

It was more than rivalry. It was outright jealousy and with my position as a security consultant, in comparison, his job seemed more like a glorified travel agent which only served to fuel the fire.

So I was at his apartment, picking up the key and getting ready to watch his cats for him as he was going on vacation.  

He was ribbing me, "Do you pick up hotties when you're out of town, Eric?"

I don't, but I teased anyway claiming, "Every chance I get. A man just can't get enough pussy. But you wouldn't know anything about that being gay and all."

He was zipping his suitcase shut, so not really looking at me, "Oh, I'VE slept with women."

I figured he was joking. It always seemed odd to me to have a gay twin. And whenever a thought of him engaging in gay activity crossed my mind what I saw was a reflection of myself sucking a cock or getting fucked. But now he was rocking my world, "Anyone I'd know?"

Wheeling his suitcase out through the doorway he replied, "Well, as a matter of fact, yes."

I called after him down the hall, "Steve! Really? Who?"

"I'll text you, bro." The elevator doors closed.

An hour later I got the text, "Waiting for my plane now."

"OK, spill it. Who was she?"

"It was years ago. Ancient history. Ashley from high school."

That hit me hard, "But she was my first girlfriend. How? When?"

Like fifteen minutes went by before he answered, "You know how we used to switch for tests? I'd take your math tests, and you'd take my lit tests... It was a one time thing."

I started to figure it all out. Fitting the pieces together I said, "You fucking slept with her while I was still dating her!" I was fuming.

"Don't hate me, bro. But there's more. And I feel bad."

"Shit! Who else?"

"What I'm saying is that I feel responsible for her breaking up with you. I'm sorry." I pinned a question mark to that.

So he confessed more, "It was the weekend before she dumped you. I think I came on too strong. It was my one chance to have sex with a girl. Or so I thought."

So much made sense now. But it raised more and more questions. "Wait! You ARE saying there were others. Who?"

Every time a girl I'd dated treated me weird inexplicably taunted me. Then I wondered if he'd ever touched my fiancé. I needed to know, "Christy? Tell me you never slept with Christy?"

"No, not her. But Jenny and Tracy. They didn't do anything for me. The sex just wasn't thrilling."

"You fucking slept with three of my girlfriends! How could you? And you didn't even love it. You just did it for curiosity."

The last text I got from him said, "Four. My planes leaving. Gotta go."

Maybe if I had known who the fourth was I could've dropped it and moved on. Ancient history and all. But the nagging doubt kept my mind dwelling on it. And with those incessant thoughts the urge for revenge grew in me.

I'm not proud of myself but right then I decided to get revenge by sleeping with four of the people he knew. By altering his relationships with four people we would be even.

There was this girl at work he talked about, Marissa. If he still felt anything for any woman she would be the one. So I would sleep with her pretending to be him, and she would forever treat him differently afterwards. That would mess with his mind. Besides, for a chubby girl she was good looking enough, barely.

Then there was his current fling. Sure it was a guy, but I've had my own curiosities too. I thought, "What's a single blowjob?" I just had to find a way to rub it in his face when he got back. And I figured if it was too gross and I couldn't follow through, I could break them up. It wasn't that evil if he had broken me up with four of my girlfriends.

I decided to have sex with his boss too, or at least hit on him. That could really fuck stuff up. Not enough to get him fired, but payback could be delicious.

And I didn't plan it but the accountant at his work ended up being on the list too. I suppose that one doesn't count. You'll see why.

So on Monday I traded places and went into his job playing at being my brother yet again. No one even questioned why he came into work when he'd taken time off.

I looked across into Marrisa's cubicle. Long flowing black hair with a sexy natural curl to it. A pretty face with Mediterranean skin. Pert titties. And while her butt was a tad big, maybe more than a tad, it would still be fun to watch it juggle when I pounded her from behind.

She knew "I" was gay but when she flirted with me anyway I knew it would be a cinch to bed her. I flirted back, and she took the bait. Unlike my brother I'm really good with women.

So we ate our lunch together in the cafeteria. Then we joked around in the break room. Then caught a "winding down" drink after work. The equivalent of three dates in one afternoon. By then she was feeling loose and had a new confidence in her sexiness, thanks to me pushing all the right buttons. She was fawning all over me and clinging to my every word as well as my arm.

She took me home and when she started talking about our future I didn't dissuade her of the notion. She actually ended up being really good in bed. I'd never been with a woman with as much junk in the trunk, but as they say, the cushion for the pushin' ended up being substantially better than with skinny girls in some ways.

When she sucked my cock the look of utter admiration during and the sheer gratitude afterward were a pretty big ego boost too.

I flipped her over onto her tummy and she completely let me have full control. Then I pulled her up into doggy so I could watch her buns juggle just as I'd planned. Furthermore, I started with a tentative slap, to test the waters, and when she was ok with it I ramped up the amplitude. I was surprised with her willingness to let me impart crisp red handprints on her plump ass.

Try as I might it was hard to take her too far. So with my cock buried in her pussy and my hands pulling her back and forth by her squishy hips I decided to go for the gold: first I grabbed a handful of lush hair and gave it a healthy yank as a way of driving my cock just a little deeper. Next, I spat on her butthole and wormed my thumb inside. Now, not many women would tolerate the hurdles I ran her through. But if anything, she seemed more willing to please than any woman I'd dated before.

We said our goodbyes and as a final nail in the coffin I left with the parting words, "Thanks, it was a nice fling."

To my shock she replied wistfully with, "Well, you know where to find me..." Honestly, I was worried she was too much of a doormat and I would crush her spirit. Can you believe I was developing caring feelings for her?

But she proved me wrong when she finished that parting sentence, "... until you won't."

For all of the above I was pretty sure there were going to be repercussions for Steve.

Tuesday, like Monday, I arrived at his job bright and early as I needed to figure out just what he had on his plate for the day. Of course he had shifted most of his work load knowing he would be gone and his sales call calendar was blank.

I was prepared to act as if nothing had happened when Marissa arrived - but she never did. Maybe she just called in sick? Maybe it had nothing to do with me. I felt a terrible pang of guilt just because of the possibility.

I basically phoned it in all day. I was also able to complete my own job remotely. Then I stayed late so I could see the boss alone. If he responded to my advance I might have to suck a cock - though my plan was to be rejected. If he turned me down I'd be Scott free. Either way it was sure to make things uncomfortable for Steve. There's a reason there are rules against stuff like that.

I waited in his office. Based on the pictures on his desk Chad was divorced, about sixty years old, had a dad bod, and was losing his hair.

I surmised that the sexy young women weren't beating down his door. How could anyone enjoy sucking the old goat's cock?

Furthermore, the decor was outdated, his chair was worn out, and the building was on the small side as far as businesses go. So he wasn't pulling in enough money to attract the ladies either.

Chad looked happy to see me when he came in, "How's my best salesman and how's it hangin'?" Well, you can take the man out of the frat but you can't take the frat out of the man.

"Mine's hangin' real fine. No absence of action for me. How about you? Are the babes down on their knees begging for what you got hangin' there?

He sat down at his desk, turning the monitor away from my view nervously. Probably he had some porn open. If only I had seen it before I was going to suggest I give him a blowjob. It would have helped me make a more interesting play.

He chuckled, "No, Steve, the babes aren't interested."

"So... a bit of a dry spell!"

"Like the Mojave."

"Sorry to hear it man. You must be ready to fuck a hole in the wall. That's a real thing you know. It doesn't matter who's mouth is on the other side. Just warmth and wetness. All cats are gray in the dark, right?"

"Um, right."

I lied, "Say, Chad, you're a handsome man... and you've known for years that I'm gay... I can help you out. What else are friends for?"

This was the moment. I was either going to learn what my brother did when he was on his knees or get turned down and it would still be awkward between Chad and Steve when he got back.

First he gave me s quizzical look, then Chad closed the blinds, leaned back in his chair, unzipped, and pointed to the door so I would lock it. "Steve, I can't begin to tell you how much these weekly 'consultations' mean to me. I don't know what I would do without you."

Uh, oh. I didn't expect that turn of events. Not only did he not reject my advances, but his cock in my mouth was not going to change a thing. And what if he could tell the difference?

By the time I'd locked the door and made it back to Chad his pants were bunched up at his ankles and his little wrinkly aardvark was waiting for me in a wiry nest of gray hair.

Soft it was about two inches long and it looked utterly disgusting. I couldn't think of a single way to get out of this. Gingerly I got down on my knees before Chad. I hated that his underwear was rubbing up against my pant legs. I hated his hairy tubby stomach. And don't get me started on his balls.

Hiding my revulsion I reached out to fondle the lifeless organ. He asked, "You're not going to jerk yourself off today while you swallow my dick?"

Fuck! Could this get any worse? "Of course, I get so turned on when I'm tasting your skin."

"Hmm? I thought it was the ball licking and the cum play?"

Shit, it just got worse. And what the hell is cum play? I pushed his knees apart and leaned forward. The least objectionable place to begin was far away from the tip but still not touching his balls. So that's where I placed my lips first. After that I just did what needed to be done.

Starting at the top I took it in, bobbing up and down. It grew to its full six inches pretty fast. The old fart was huffing and moaning like he'd never had a blowjob before. He was lifting his hips and jabbing up into my mouth unpleasantly. Did all penises smell like that or had he not showered?

Nudging at my crotch with his black loafers he declared, "You better take yours out now or you won't get to cum while I'm still in your mouth."

It felt like I was obliged to do it. So I sat back freeing my limp lethario. "That's better, Steve. Show me how much you like this."

Jerking on my more impressive cock I struggled to get hard while I sucked his aged organ. "Show me, Stevie. Where's the enthusiasm?"

My mind thought back to Marissa for inspiration. Looking into Chad's eyes I smiled around his meat tube and moaned like this was the best thing in the world. He bought it. Then I wondered, if possibly Marissa had faked it with me like I was faking right now. But she had no reason to. It was TOO genuine. No, she liked me and she liked sucking my cock for that reason. It dawned on me too that Christy didn't actually like sucking my cock. Did Christy even like me?

Images of Marissa's cute face appeared before my eyes. The sight of my engorged cock plowing her sexy lips got me hard. Jerking my plump cock I shot my goo pretending to enjoy Chad's stiffy banging uncomfortably at the back of my mouth.

Now that I'd cum, this vile act grew tedious as well. But I had to keep sucking. Like five long minutes later Chad erupted a whole week's worth of spunk into me. Didn't the bastard jerk off?

"Show me, Stevie. Open your mouth."

I did it. "You're supposed to move it around with your tongue. What's with you today?" So I did that too. "OK, you can swallow after you lick my nuts." He lay his head back, waiting.

But it was too late. I'd already spit the crap out. Then without evaluating it I just said what I was thinking, "I'm not gonna lick those nasty nuts."

"Steve! I'm disappointed. Look at the carpet! Fuck, look at my shoes. Now I've gotta go clean these up. You can take care of the carpet and let yourself out."

After fifteen minutes I walked behind his desk and peeked out the window. The only car in the parking lot was mine.

Turning to go I happened to see the spreadsheet that was open on his computer. What had he been hiding? Apparently he was engaged in some rather amateurish forensic accounting. Wondering why, I sat down to look over the numbers.

I could readily see that the company was bleeding about a hundred thousand a year. Not a lot but it would add up. Chad knew this too as he had highlighted the cells proving it.

Next, I could see that the money was funneling through the HR department then disappearing. Why hadn't he done a basic Poisson Probability Distribution. He didn't even follow up on the gaps. He obviously saw the gaps, but didn't know that the absence of data is the arrow pointing to the culprit.

Five minutes later I knew that the money was going straight to the sweet Marissa. But I'd been in her apartment. Her personal budget was far more likely to be five thousand dollars underfunded rather than a hundred thou in excess. No way she had the money.

Ten minutes later I knew she was the patsy and not the criminal. Nevertheless, in a couple more days Chad would be calling the cops on her.

Thirty minutes later I had computed Chebycheff's Inequality and performed several distributions but was no closer to figuring out who it was based on statistics alone.

It had to be someone with a lot more skills than the pretty Marissa. But also someone positioned to take advantage of the inadequate security systems in place. The personnel files indicated it had to be Chad, the CFO, or the accountant.

I ruled out Chad since he was trying so inadequately to find the perp. In another ten minutes I knew the CFO earned seventy-five K with stock options and profit sharing, lived in a house in Highland Heights worth two-hundred K, and was married to a beautiful wife with three daughters. He had too much to lose if he did it and got caught, and clearly wasn't swimming in dough.

Meanwhile, the accountant was single, overqualified for the job, only made fifty-five, and also lived in Highland Heights, but in a paid off house worth twice as much as the CFO's.

BINGO!

Wednesday I showed up to work bright and early. At nine I was called into the conference room where I was to be interviewed by none other than John the accountant and the lovely HR rep Marissa.

Long story short, I, really my brother Steve, was accused of the white collar crime of stealing a hundred thousand dollars per year from the company for the last ten years. Evidence showing I had been in all the pertinent computer files was laid out. I was placed on leave. And an official inquiry was due to begin in two days. With the evidence I had downloaded last night I wasn't worried at all from a legal perspective. But why did it bother me the way Marissa looked at me?

I couldn't bring up what I knew without putting Marissa in danger so I said nothing. The strangest parts were that there should have been policemen there to arrest me on the spot. No investigation should wait two days to start. And why in fucks sake was the accountant conducting the interview?

Marissa got up to copy some papers. I was thinking her ass looked sexy as hell. But on her way out she sneered, "I thought better of you, Steve. I feel so betrayed." I couldn't even defend myself.

Alone with the accountant I took a reasonable chance, "You should swing by my place tonight so we can talk about this in private."

"I'll be there at nine." Then he up and left.

At five I fed the cats. At five thirty I turned around and suddenly there was a strange man standing there. A hit man? No, it must be my brother's boyfriend of sorts. "Come'er baby." I couldn't do it. His arms were out expecting a hug and he was already puckering up for a kiss. That was far worse than the idea of sucking a dick.

I started explaining, "Brian, I've had a day? First, my boss is an ugly bastard. Then I was called into a meeting to..." But I never got to finish.

"That's the greeting I get!? I come here to surprise you and you give me the cold shoulder? I even brought flowers." He pointed to a box on the table. "You always run hot and cold. There's no predicting when you're gonna be fun and when you're gonna be a little bitch. Why am I even with you?"

I wanted to create a strain in their relationship. But to me it seemed like it already had problems. Are gay relationships always filled with such drama? Still, when I found out that Steve had 86ed what I had with Ashley it hurt. And yet breaking them up in turn would be going too far. "I'm sorry, Brian. What can I do to make it up to you?"

He looked happier now. "I want that thing we do for special occasions."

Champagne? Dinner at a special restaurant? I had no idea what it could be. Until he grabbed at his crotch. Brian was kind of handsome. There was a possibility I might even like sucking his cock. Learning from the attitude Marissa had shown me I threw my all into it. I dropped instantly to the floor at Brian's feet and declared, "I can't get enough of this wonderful cock." Deftly I pulled it free through his fly and started reigning kisses upon it. It was a good looking cock. Manly. Rugged. Thick! No wonder Steve put up with this nonsense. I actually WAS going to like sucking this handsome cock. Not the way Marissa sucked - out of a genuine feeling for the person behind it. But just because it was a beautiful gigantic specimen of manhood.

Brian bellowed, "Steve you duplicitous pansy. Why are you always such a, a, woman?" He said the word woman like it was an insult. "If you're gonna act like the weaker sex then I'm gonna treat you like a helpless slut."

Brian grabbed me by the wrists and started dragging me toward the bedroom as I scrambled to keep up so I didn't get dragged across the floor. Was this a game? This was the thing they did on special occasions? But the angry look on his face was so real.

Well, anything Steve has done before I could do. Maybe not better in this instance. I was better than Steve at just about everything - but I would have to concede that he would be better than me at gay sex.

Brian pulled me up on my feet then shoved me down on the bed where I fell face down. In contrast, when I had moved Marissa's body around it had been playfully rough and reflecting on the sounds she made she had enjoyed it. Nevertheless, if I could go back in time and do it again I would make love to the innocent lady with tenderness instead.

Here it should have been obvious to Brian that this had crossed a line. I was making noises of protestation, not love. In fact, there was no love anywhere to be found.

Next, he yanked off my pants and underwear, but when he didn't take off my shirt or turn me over I got an inkling of what was to come. On the bright side, we weren't kissing.

Straddling my legs he dropped his heavy log between my butt cheeks as he leaned over to retrieve lube from the nightstand. Don't all gay guys do butt sex? How bad could it be?

I received the worst prostate exam ever as he squirted the cold gel on me and prodded my ass unceremoniously, first with one finger, then two. He pulled on my anal ring outwardly from the center, going around the "clock face" stretching all twelve numbers. I started to realized that this preparation was an unpleasant though necessary kindness. He wasn't a jerk. He was making sure he wasn't going to hurt me.

He left my backside alone for a minute and I waited for the sound of the condom wrapper. Everyone used protection for anal sex. Everyone except guys in a monogamous relationship like Brian and Steve.

He placed the blunt head of his cock on my hole, deriding me and hanging out their dirty laundry, "It's not too fat, you're too tight, so don't go blaming me for your inadequacy."

Brian leaned into me. It was like putting a 2x4 into the bathroom sink drain. He could have worked it back and forth. He SHOULD have eased it in and out. Instead he doubled down on putting his weight behind his thrust. This just couldn't be the way they did it.

Slowly, inexorably, the beastly cock made its way into me like a freight train. I screamed out a low roar straight from my gut. Any lover would have stopped now. A minute later he was lying on my back pressing the air out of my lungs. The pressure up my ass was intense.

The man's rough stubble scraped my neck as he first bit me, followed by gentle nibbles. "Stop that! You don't get to pretend that you love me. If you loved me you would take it easy on my poor colon"

He laughed, "A colon? Since when do we call your fuck hole a colon? Just play dead like always."

"Play dead!? I can barely move from the pain. When it's your turn how do you handle it?"

"I don't fucking do that. I'll never do that. Not with anyone. And your little dick would feel like a thermometer."

With his hands on my shoulder blades he pushed himself up and began fucking in earnest. The ripping tearing agony was gone. But every time he was buried to the hilt it felt like my insides were being rearranged.

Which was worse, the stretch, the internal pressure, or the sudden involuntary loss of air every time he pushed on my back with his strong hands?

I swear, he lasted thirty minutes if it was ten. And the various discomforts never receded. Near the end he began grunting with each forceful pump and when drops of gross sweat fell on me I knew he was close.

He bit and kissed my neck one more time despite my complaints. With his lips on my ear he growled, "Come on little rabbit, fuck the mattress so your orgasm will make your fuck hole contract on my big cock. It'll make me feel so good. Don't you want me to feel good?"

With a roar, disgusting buckets of slick cream hosed into my defenseless rectum. The goo literally lubed his steel hard pole changing the way it felt pistoning in and out of me. To my horrified imagination it was going to travel backward up my intestines, through my stomach, and into my mouth where I would be forced to taste the bitterness of bad gay sex.

Without a word Brian got up to get dressed. Tripping over my crumpled pants he had left on the floor, he fell backward into a glass coffee table shattering it completely. Swearing, he left bloody footprints all over the apartment. As a parting symbol of his rage he dashed a ceramic horse statue on the opposite wall before taking back the flowers and departing in a new rage.

I lay there leaking filth out of my hole which trickled over my balls and back onto the bedspread. Reflecting, I realized I didn't just have gay butt sex with my lover. The reality was I'd just been anally raped.

By the time I'd finished a long hot shower, eaten dinner, and collected myself it was seven thirty and I was too tired to clean up the broken glass, broken statue, cummy bedspread, or bloody footprints. Instead I just avoided getting any of the mess on myself. The walls and the floor in this ancient building were old, they could wait.

It had been a very rough day and I wanted nothing more than to sit on the couch staring at the fourth story city view. I thought hard about how people need to treat each other. Coworkers, brothers, lovers, and fiancés. I sent a text to Christy, "We both know there's something missing. It has been for a long time. We should talk."

My solitude was disturbed at eight when the doorbell rang. I expected to meet a neighbor or something, but when I opened the door, John, the accountant pushed his way through the door and inside.

I was more surprised than anything, "You're early!"

"I wanted to keep you on your toes." He set his computer bag down then walked around picking up things and examining them. He made himself a drink and bit an apple, leaving the half eaten fruit on the counter. It was all a juvenile power play.

I broke the silence, "You're very skilled and underemployed. Why bother with Franklin Relocation and Travel Services at all? You could make far more doing legit work at a larger company."

He snickered for no other reason than that he could, "It's part of a bigger plan. This just sets the stage for a bigger score. Besides, not many companies hire accountants with three DUIs."

"Marissa's gonna pay a fortune in legal fees before she's cleared. Don't you care?"

"She'll be cleared fast. Then all the evidence incriminates you my dear boy. But you had to go and put your digital fingerprints all over the wrong files." He drummed his fingers on the table for who knows what desired effect, "But if I want to I can switch everything to make it look like William is at fault instead of you."

"But Billy has a wife and three young girls under the age of eight. It'll destroy them."

"It's them or you Steve. I've already set it up so that with one data transfer you'll be free. Both you and your dark haired little sweetheart."

"Let's talk about this, John. There's a better way."

"And I can do all this for you if you just do one little thing for me."

John, what if you ran the funds through an outside consulting firm instead of HR? Then the losses would be covered by insurance." But he wasn't listening.

He pulled my brother's laptop out of the bag and opened it. He must have brought it here from the office just for this. "Delete the files I show you and do a batch transfer. Then it's all fine."

"No. I won't do it. Bill doesn't deserve the hassle. At best it'll drain his life savings."

He lost his temper, "Steve, you little twerp! You should've obeyed the first time. Now you're gonna do it the hard way. Reaching into the bag again he pulled out a Luger. Do all villians use the same handgun? How cliche. And I must have had a much harder day than I realized or I would have seen this coming and planned for it. My whole job is planning for the unexpected and I missed the obvious.

"I guess I'm gonna transfer the files." I looked over the system. There's a lot of files there. It'll take at least half an hour."

"Yes, yes you are going to. And you'll do it my way." He looked momentarily uncertain, "But you need to be punished. You're gonna, you're gonna give me the contents of your checking account, and, and, a blowjob."

"OK, hold on a sec while I get the transfers started." He looked over my shoulder scrutinizing my every keystroke. He told me exactly which files to delete without ever taking his eyes off of me. Then he told me exactly where to retrieve the new files, and he watched ever so carefully while I did that.

As soon as the countdown started he breathed a sigh of relief. "OK, now empty your personal account."

"Of course I'll do it. I have no choice. But as you can see my computer is a little busy. Do you want to go down to the bank or wait?" While he was thinking that over I hit two little keystrokes on the computer. Two little keys that started a program I installed yesterday. A program that would save every single file, no matter where it was, deleted or not, into a very special folder at exactly the top of the hour every hour.

"You're trying to trick me. We're not doing either. We're going into the bedroom where you're going to suck my cock and you're going to do your absolute best."

"OK, would you like to watch some porn while I drain your nuts?"

"You gay guys are all the same. One little hint that you can suck a cock and you can't think about anything else. You sure are cooperative now that you get to satisfy your fag desires."

We went into the bedroom with the gun pointed at my back. In front of the TV I handed him the remote before carefully removing my clothes, folding, and hanging them carefully.

When I handed him a hanger he had the gun in one hand, the remote and hanger in another, and was trying to juggle all three all while getting undressed. He was totally befuddled, "Put the porn on first. You're gonna need that since you're not gay."

He set the hanger down then found some very stereotypical big boob blowjob porn. "Here, give me your pants and I'll hold them while you take your shirt off."

He took off his shirt and I handed his pants back to him. "Move over there." He told me. "Kneel down by the bed in the ready position."

Putting the gun next to the remote he put his pants and shirt on the hanger. I eyed his dick intently, licking my lips, "You've got one of the best cocks I've ever seen. Now give me the hanger and I'll put your clothes with mine. You need the remote. Are you circumcised or cut? Where do you want to cum?"

Coming over to me by the bed he handed me his clothes on the hanger. "I'm cut. What'ya mean where?"

Come sit right here on the bed, "I mean do you want to shoot on my face, like in that clip right there, or do you want to feel my tongue swirling around your cockhead when you cum, or do you want to hold my head deeply on your throbbing monster while you deposit it straight down my throat?" I didn't bother to tell him when he sat in the residue from Brian's cum.

He seemed stupefied, "I don't know. What do you suggest?" I ran my hand up his leg.

It didn't matter to me as long as I accomplished my goal of running out the clock. I wanted him to cum right when the computer signaled the download was done so he would hurry back and forget about the gun over by the tv. As of right now there were twenty-five minutes left. When I blew Chad it only took fifteen very long minutes and he was a lot older.

Then I had an interesting idea. Looking over the thumbnails for the various porn videos he could watch I saw one that was exactly twenty-six minutes long. "See that one where the amazing hottie in the blue bra is about to suck off a guy?" He nodded. "OK then. Hit play, and whatever way they do it in the video you do it the same way." I caressed his big balls gently and sensually. And they were pretty fuckin' big.

"Come on! Suck it."

"What? No warm up? You won't shoot very far that way. It'll spoil your orgasm and make it much weaker. Trust me, I'm gay. Go with it."

"Oh, right. You really know everything about penises. Don't you?"

"Everything, yes. Trust the fag." I hated the word but my goal was manipulating the asshole, not being right. So I stroked his shaft exceedingly slowly with one hand while stimming his balls with the other. Was any of this true? I didn't know. But I didn't want his dick in my mouth any sooner than absolutely necessary.

He was growing impatient so I circled my thumb in the goo on his frenulum, squeezing even more out which in turn I rubbed into his cockskin. By now the whole crown was shiney and slick. I started to doubt if this had been a good idea. When I'd sucked Chad there never was any pre-cum taste. But now I had reserved all the nasty stuff and concentrated it in one place.

I estimated that I could postpone the dick licking another five minutes then suck it for a total of ten.

But John changed his mind, "The slut in the movie has been sucking for a long time already. The way I see it I've got some catching up to do if I'm going to finish however he does.

"You're right, John. I just got caught up in the pleasure of enjoying your amazing tool."

John wrapped his hands around my head, "I'm glad we agree." And saying that he jammed my mouth down on his not-quite hard dick. He tried to force it down my throat on the first go. It hurt like hell so gagging and coughing and almost retching I fought against his grip to gain my freedom."

With tears running down my face when I recovered, his only comment was, "The fuck dude. What kind of homosexual are you that can't even deep throat a cock!"

"Of course I can deep throat a cock. I can deep and throat all over town. It's just that, well, that's no ordinary cock. Haven't any of your many girlfriends told you how much bigger than average it is?" It was a huge lie.

Still, the jerk was a total sucker, "Why, yes, they all have."

I glanced at the video. Ten minutes left. Meanwhile, the naked slut was just standing up for a scene change. I could survive ten minutes if it meant John and I were going to be together in the other room a good thirty feet away from the gun.

John didn't hesitate he grabbed my head again forcing me back onto his cock with the only difference being that he resisted sticking it in my windpipe. He was pumping my head up and down rapidly while fucking up just as fast when he oddly slowed down and stopped.

A minute later his words came out slowly, "We have to do it like they are if I'm to finish the same way."

Suddenly he let go of my head only to start manhandling me. He yanked on my wrists, wrangling me to my feet before just as suddenly he was pushing me onto the bed. I was pretty sure these were all blowjob videos and none of them were anal. At least I hoped so because I'm not sure my sore butt could handle any more fucking.

I felt relieved when he put me face up. Then worried as he dragged my head close to the edge of the bed. Standing behind me he attempted to face fuck me again but now from this unique position. It didn't work so he pulled my head further off the edge. With two more trials it finally worked when my neck was bent uncomfortable back and my head was completely upside down.

I was absolutely helpless as was my throat. He lined up for the kill and managed to thrust his cock straight down my throat. This time I didn't gag or threaten to upchuck. In fact, I was able to receive multiple forays down my gullet. I considered how nice it would be not to have to taste any of his jiz when it bypassed my tastebuds never to be seen again.

John would pump my face hole three or four times then I would tap his thigh so he would rub the spit slicked dripping head on my lips so I could catch my breath.

We repeated the cycle a few times when I had the urge to beat my meat. Frantically letting my hand fly on my straining cock I knew I was close to spewing hot cum all over my chest.

John also seemed close. He developed a pattern: down the throat, rub lips, dick slap cheeks, glide on the tongue, and head back down the throat yet again.

Two minutes later and I was indeed convulsing and thrashing about dropping my spermy load.

John kept going for what seemed like forever. I lay on my back passively with wet cum all over my hand and no way to clean it off.

John kept fucking until I heard him say, "Oh, like that. I can do that."

He pulled the offending and twitching cock from my mouth and while jerking it wildly started to jet great runny globs of milky white nut juice all over my face. Some went in my mouth. Much landed on my lips. But a whole bunch also dripped in my eyes. It stung and coated my eyes, sealing my eyelids shut, until I was blinded.

And that was the moment the laptop let us know it was done. My big fear was that the reason John brought the gun was to tie up loose ends after he was done making me change files from a computer that was tied to me, well, my brother.

Why wouldn't he kill me when he was done? He didn't know all the files would find new homes shortly afterwards.

Wiping gallons of dick snot from my eyes I raced to get to the gun first. Both of our hands grabbed the gun only mine was slippery. Our arms went up as John tried to aim the gun at me. Our arms went down as I tried to aim it away.

Finally I bashed it against a dresser causing the gun to slide across the floor. I grabbed him by the throat but he grabbed me by the balls. I head butted his face as the pain in my nuts made stars float before my eyes. And then John stepped on a piece of the broken glass from when Brian broke the table.

Hopping and stumbling he bumped into the aging wall dented by a broken statue, then falling into a decrepit window he crashed through, falling four stories to the concrete below.

Quickly I took my clothes, the laptop, and the gun that had my individual evidence on it, even by twin standards, into a custodian's closet out in the hall to get dressed.

Days later the police released a report. Brian's blood and cum were found on John's body. Both their prints and DNA were all over the apartment where the evidence of a struggle was unmistakeable. Security cameras showed John arriving with sinister intent as well as Brian leaving in a rage. And Steve was on vacation when it all went down. The police concluded that the pair had a lovers quarrel gone bad and created fancy theories to explain inexplicable timelines that they didn't really care about anyway.

Brian fled the country.

Chad turned over spreadsheet and some files which he took full credit for compiling and that proved without a doubt that John was the embezzler.

No one ever suspected anyone else and the company prospered now that it had much better cash flow.

Christy and I had a heart to heart where we determined that we had just grown apart and we went our separate ways.

My brother and I buried the hatchet and will treat each other right from now on.

I came clean with Marissa and explained my role and regrets and I made the best case that I had fallen for her.

As much as I tried to lay it all bare, Marissa refused to believe that I wasn't actually acting undercover in my role as a security specialist and forgave all my actions as a necessary means to catch a murderous criminal.

I think she is the most beautiful woman in the world with a fantastic figure and we are living happily ever after. We make tender love and treat each other with total respect and kindness even if we do sometimes get a little freaky in the bedroom.

Author's note:

If you liked my story please give it a good rating. Add it to your favorites to read later if you want. Follow me and you'll see all my stuff.  

I try but don't always succeed in creating a good story. Please add comments so I know what I'm doing well and what to improve on. If you want to talk I'll answer your friendly comments.

I often attempt to create tension in the main character's motives. In turn, this often means that characters in the story have flaws and might not even be nice to each other all the time.  

I really appreciate polite comments! It's what motivates me to write more.