Big Boy Undies: Musician

 

 

“You’re doing great.” I said quietly, watching as my hot younger brother, Martín, strummed my guitar in bed. He was picking it up quickly, plucking all the right notes. Fuck, there was no denying how much of a stud he became—the face, the muscle, the height. He didn’t have anything on except socks, sock garters, and underwear. All black. All mine. He looked good in my clothes. I had other colors, but black had been the correct one to start with. Made his ass look even fatter and his massive cock more tempting.
 
I sat at the foot of the bed, also in my underwear, a foot on the floor, my other leg on the mattress. The way I watched him play made me feel like his mentor and not his older brother who had just dumped 3 loads up his ass. Taking a sip of my whiskey, my hole clenched, knowing it had also received 2 loads from that overgrown fuckstick of his.
 
Coming back into town after being on the road for so long, I never would have expected us to end up here. Our parents were… a lot. That’s probably why I rebelled and said fuck college, music was where it’s at. I moved out and never looked back. My younger brother was the only one I gave my number to, and my parents never went through his stuff to find it. They always did like him better. But I never held that against him, with a wide age gap, we were in very different places at the time. 
 
The Ruíz household, however, could make any well-mannered person lose their sanity. Martín was exactly what they wanted. He got the right grades, was in the right sports, even did the right after school clubs. Their golden child. It was never enough. They had created a perception he could never measure up to. ‘Upsetting’ wasn’t enough to describe the experience of listening to my brother’s opinion of our parents devolve over the years. When I left, my goal had never been to make things hard on him. I genuinely wanted my parents to be better, and they had been, to him at least, at the time. But getting older meant more expectations and responsibilities.  
 
So, when the question came, I wasn’t surprised. 
 
“Can I stay with you for a while, bro?”
 
He had reached his limit. He needed space from our parents' constant smothering and helicoptering. There was no room for him to breathe. He knew I was driving back into town for the summer after another tour and wanted to crash at a safe place. I agreed, no hesitation. He was happy as ever on the other side of the line. When he hung up, my thoughts turned reflective. Though I technically lived in the same town—whenever I was there— I hadn’t seen my parents in years. 6 years, to be exact. I was supposed to head off to college and be the proto-son for Martín to surpass. 
 
Trust me, I empathized with my folks, they had a child, me, young. It stopped their dreams. Martín was their chance to do things right with more money. All I had to do was play the role of big bro fuck up. Well, that just wasn’t my fucking story.
 
When I came home, I was worried about finding my brother crying on my steps. The memory of the boy who clung to my legs begging me not to go was strong in my mind. However, that was my mistake. I had seen a few of his pictures online, that once cute kid had morphed into a young man physically. There was no reason to not believe the same had happened mentally.
 
As I pulled up, Martín was waiting, leaning against my banister. He had on a muscle T-shirt, jeans, and white tennis. A suitcase was by his side, and a gray bookbag on his back. “Lucian!” he approached me, wrapping me in a full body hug.
 
We quickly moved inside my one-story home. Nothing luxurious or decorative. I had a thing for black, all on the wallpaper, but Martín seemed impressed anyhow. Years we talked and not once had he ever asked specifics about my living situation. Mom and dad probably thought I was out on the streets, kicking it in hotels, surfing through people's lives. I slung my guitar case off back, beyond glad the rest of my band had the equipment. My back needed a good stretch.
 
“Can I see your guitar?” Martín asked, staring at it like gold.
 
I nodded, as he cautiously opened it up. He didn’t need to be so worried, our parents weren't there. Growing up, he always had an affinity for my things, my old toys, my clothes, my cellphone, and the guitar was no different. One time, I caught him, wearing my shades, plucking at the strings after I had gone out. He heard me chuckle watching him because the kid didn't have a musical bone in his body. So, I decided to teach him, and our parents almost blew a gasket. They didn’t see the benefit of Martín learning an instrument. No concerns about what I did, but not their #1 son. 
 
And now Martín was on my couch plucking at the guitar, his personal musical intuition still grating on my ears, but his face was smiling. That made me happy. I sat beside him nudging him to make space and showed him how to properly hold it. I could only take so many offenses in one night. He continued, as I spread my arms along the couch’s spine, bopping my head to his offbeat tune.
 
After some minutes, he stopped, playing for a moment, “Do you like your job?” For some reason the way he asked it. His voice? His eyes? I knew it was a deeper question than just the words he had asked implied.
 
“I love it.” I said honestly, putting my head back. “Playing music to crowds, connecting with people. There’s nothing like it. I couldn’t do that at home. Not with mom and dad.” I looked at the awe in his face, and also the sadness. I tilted my head to the side, resting my face on my fist. “Tell me, what’s going on in there?” I poked at his head with my free arm and hand. 
 
He laughed, swatting my hand away, “Haha, nothing much it’s just….” He looked around studying at my home, “I used to wish you’d come back. I even slept in your room some nights.” He shook his head, “But then I realized why you left and I wished I could have gone with you.” His eyes were a bit wet.
 
“Aht, no you don’t” I reached over and rubbed his head, “Tears are great, but there’s no crying during your stay here. This is going to be a fun time for you.” He smiled as I backed off him. “But first, I really need to sleep tonight. My engine is running past empty.” I nodded to the bedroom. “You can sleep in my bed; the sheets are clean. I’ll stay out here on the couch.”
 
“I can’t do that, I’m the guest.”
 
“Exactly you're the guest. You do what I tell you, and I get to call it being hospitable. Besides, it might feel like old times.” I joked.
 
 Martín facepalmed, “Why did I tell you that?”
 
“Oh, get over it and get to bed.” I patted his back. “Hey, I’ll even let you take the guitar. That sound fair?”
 
He looked at me playfully annoyed, and that was a success in my book. Standing up, he disappeared into my room, dragging his suitcase along. He didn’t close the door fully, but the minute the light in my room went off I sprawled out on the couch, throwing my clothes off and passing out. 
 
When I woke up, it wasn’t even truly morning, but it was to the sound of terrible music. Shuffling, broken tunes, and hushed whispers came from my room. It stopped for a moment, and I got up to see what the heck was happening. Peering into my room from the large gap, I saw my brother’s clothes on the floor. Then, in real time I watched a pair of boxers fly right on top of the pile. Was he dancing with my guitar in the nude? My hand covered my mouth. I couldn’t laugh and ruin it like last time. Composing myself, I pushed the door open lightly. It opened with no creaks or squealing. 
 
Martín was in my bedroom dancing away, but he wasn’t nude. No, he was wearing my underwear, socks, and my sock garters, holding the guitar, pretending to be performing, singing some of my songs. I didn't even know he listened. It was prime sibling blackmail material. His eyes were closed so he didn’t even see me or my big grin. I was going to watch for a few more seconds, then grab my phone, but the strangest thing happened. As he moved through my room, Martín grew taller. The guitar fell across his chest differently. Speaking of his chest, his pecs popped larger and stronger abs formed under them. As he strummed about, his shoulders widened, arms flexing with larger biceps. His thighs filled out my underwear’s leg holes, while his legs sculpted improved calves and his feet swelled out my socks. Then Martín's face got slimmer, sharper, as his jaw settled in. A maturation was occurring as facial hair blossomed under his nose and contoured his cheeks. Then tattoos began to appear on his skin, fading in from nothing, different, but very similar to ones I had. 
 
I may not have been the sharpest at school, but even I could deduce, his body’s growth resembled my current body in a lot of ways. He was himself, but like he had a ton of me dumped into him. Like he was sopping up my essence from my underwear. He turned around in a dance, twisting his hips, his bulge inflated and his ass pressed out my underwear. My mouth was just agape staring at the bulbous package. I hadn’t even noticed when my brother had stopped dancing. Eyes drinking in his body, I landed on his beautiful browns, staring back at me. 
 
His eyes followed where mine had been, going down himself, “What the…” A deep sultry voice filtered out his mouth. His fingers came up tracing his lips, before catching the stubble on his face. Slowly both enlarged hands flowed around his face.
 
He ran out of my bedroom, pushing past me, straight for the bathroom. I followed him, once again looking over his shoulder as he poked and prodded at his aged features in the mirror. He was different. He was older. He was hot. The kind of guy I definitely would have brought home after a show. Where I no doubt would have been wearing the exact underwear Martín had on. Briefs with very specific intentions. Bad news for me though, as that night, I was only wearing plain boxers, and my cock poked out of the slit, hard, since Martín’s ass was very visible. He caught me trying to hide my cock in the reflection.
 
The sun would rise later, and Martín still had not turned back. After multiple hours, even after removing the underwear. We both sat in the living room, my underwear back on him. I didn’t contest it, his didn’t fit. He sat reversed in a chair, staring out a window as I laid on the couch, my focus on him. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Time ticked away and the early morning snuck into my dark house.
 
“Martín.” I said, reaching out to him.
 
His head turned towards me. He looked so beefy. Masculine. Fuckable. Rideable. His back was stacked, biceps truly showing off. That ass was a fucking dumper though. All while wearing my briefs. I wanted to dive right into it.

 

“You, okay?” I don’t know how I managed to say what was in my heart over my dick but I’m glad I did.
 
Martín gave a dry chuckle. He hadn’t looked angry, scared, or even cursed his luck at what happened. “This is all just so…funny, you know.” He shook his head, “After you left, sometimes I used to dress up in your clothes. Mom and dad never went into your room, and I felt closer to you. I would wish they’d make me bigger so I could go find you. And yeah, I wore your underwear too, that made me feel older.” He glazed towards the bedroom. “Being in your room. Your actual room. I got overexcited and reverted to old habits.” A smirk was on his lips as he tugged at the waist band. “Didn’t take you for much of a briefs guy, though. At home it was nothing but boxers. Had me thinking that’s what all big bro’s wore.”
 
“Hey, a dude can be just as manly in briefs as in boxers, especially when trying to be sexy.” I wiggled my eyebrows. “You’re doing it right now and not even trying.” My mouth betrayed me. I internally winced. He was not some random hook-up after a gig; he was my brother.
 
“You think I'm sexy?” he asked.
 
I rolled my eyes, “I know you saw my boner, don’t be obtuse.” There was no point in lying.
 
“But do you really?” He pushed his ass out more and judging by the smirk growing wider and the glint in his eyes he knew what he was doing. Getting up, he walked back to my room ass swaying, Left cheek, right cheek. Loud footsteps across the carpet. He looked over his shoulder at me, “You coming?”
 
I didn’t need to be told twice, getting up and following him expecting it to lead to a joke. He was behind the door when I came in and closed it, after I stepped in a good deal. Spinning on my feet to pivot, my lips met his as he kissed me. I returned the kiss, devouring him, but pulled back both hands on his head to ask the question, “Are you sure about this?”
 
“From the moment I changed, I wanted you so bad big bro. And the feelings didn’t stop; they kept getting stronger as the hours passed. Wearing your ‘sexy’ briefs and socks only made it hotter.” Martín smiled, “I think you corrupted your little bro.”
 
“Nuh-uh, wearing my clothes and getting off on it, is all you,” I teasingly corrected, before kissing him again. Though I had to admit there was more than attraction pulling us together. I guided him back to my bed, making sure he landed first, with me on top. Our kissing never stopped. His fresh stubble tickled my face, as he wrapped his strong legs around my back. My lips found his neck. Then his muscle tits. They were delicious. I slurped on his nipples like I was expecting milk, grabbing at them and squeezing in tandem. The grinding started unconsciously, but we noticed when our hard cocks were wrestling each other. “I want to fuck you.” I whispered in his ear as his body shuddered.
 
“I’ve never—
 
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” My thoughts were truly nothing but debaucherous as I prepared to take on this overgrown virgin. I pulled my boxers down and slid my underwear off him. His big brown cock fell back on his torso with a thud. Before I could have a taste of it though I had to focus on one thing or my mind would melt. I held up his legs, and I kissed along his cock, his bloated balls, then down to his ass as I got into a proper squat. His ass was mine and I dined right on it pushing my tongue in. I had to keep taking breaks or my load would have ended up on my bed. Martín’s ass was just too damn good. Shifting to my fingers I begrudgingly let them do more of the work, and Martín’s easily adjusted. When he was ready, I got back up, hovering over him, my cock twitching inches from his hole. “Are we sure about this?”
 
“No condom?” He asked, mischievousness in his words.
 
All I could do was shake my head. “I gotta—I gotta put my babies in you.” A twisted thing to say to my younger brother, but I was just spilling raw instinct. My cock got inside his hole as my hips started a slow sensual thrust. Martín must have felt good because his cock hardened immediately, throwing his head back as I nibbled on his ear. I lost control of my body as my hips got carried away pummeling at my brother’s insides. Was it possible for someone to be tight and loose at the same time? My cock went in so easily, but once planted, Martín’s insides had a vice grip milking me.
 
“You’re really gonna do it huh? Seed my ass bro? Breed me as if I’m not your brother?” Martín words were dripping with lust and honeyed words that turned me on even more. For a person who claimed to be a virgin he had picked up on dirty talk fairly quickly.
 
“Fuck yeah, I’m about to pump a whole heaping of my sons—your nephews—right up your ass. Might make you incapacitated for 9 months but dem’s the breaks.” I considered myself a lot of things in bed, an excellent lover, a great lay, but never an animal. With Martín however, I was a fucking beast in a rut. There was nothing I wanted more than to breed my brother's ass. Not just because it was a hot ass, but even more so BECAUSE he was my brother. I wanted to see the kids we’d make. Our parents fucked us up, but we could do so much better.
 
“Oh FUCK!” Martín growled as his cum fired out of him. Shot after shot splattering on his face and chest.
 
Him cumming with my cock buried inside his ass was certainly a choice I made. My own load denoted deep inside my brother, flowing everywhere it could, searching for the non-existent womb I had gotten so worked up about. I rested my weight on his body, hips still pumping my load, pushing it deeper. My body was eager to see him pushing my cum out. As my energy died down, I whispered sweet nothings in his ear in Spanish. Only for us two.
 
Whatever I said, it reignited Martín’s sexual energy as he flipped me over and went to town on my ass. Supposedly never done it, but he ate like it was his last meal. His fingers slipped in, probing around loosening me up. Then his cock was at my ass and BAM. Martín had rammed it inside me in one go. The dam thing was a bulldozer and demolished its way into me. “Fuck, that’s big.” I moaned, letting it nestle in further.
 
“You like your little brother’s big dick?”  Martín asked, beginning his thrusts, balls pressing against my hole. “Got a hankering for a little bro cock?”
 
“There ain’t not ‘little’ about you,” I gasped, as my internal walls opened up. “And fuck yes, this dick is great. I don’t know what’s better, your ass or THIS.” My head rolled back, as he went faster.
 
“Ever get a dick this big out there on the road?” He asked, pummeling my prostate as I tried to form an answer.
 
“No way, man.” I shook my head. Most dick worth a damn on the road took preparation, Martín’s just slipped inside like it was always meant to be up my ass. “This dick is other worldly.”
 
“That’s right,” he cooed, giving a smile that showed off his perfect teeth. “This dick so good it’s gonna send you into orbit.” Leaning over me, the motion of his hips was doing as he said. The rhythm of his thrust, I recognized it as our hips met. They were my thrusts. My natural rhythm. He was using my skills to drive his dick deeper. “Your ass is opening up bro,” he growled in my ear. “Is it because it’s my dick spearing you?”
 
When he said those words, I just sensed something in my ass giving way, completely cave to his invasion. His fucking ramped up as he pounded me with the exact fury, I had used when topping him. My mind melted as I got a taste of my own medicine. Nothing but hot sweaty bodies writhing on each other as the bed creaked. “You want your little bro’s cum?” his shaft slid in and out my ass. “I think your nephews are getting eager to meet you.”
 
“Fuck yeah,” I held his muscled body close, “Breed me with your kids, lil bro.”
He snickered, “Don’t blame me if you end up a cumdump.” Martín gripped me tight as well, kissing my lips. “Here it comes, big bro. Gonna put my babies in you just like you did to me. Fuck, man here it comes. HOLY FUCK—TAKE IT ALL BRO—FUCK!!!” 
 
His cock unloaded like it was a firehose. It hosed my warm walls with its hot sperm, his body convulsing to empty his bloated nuts. I hummed to myself feeling my ass get christened with Martín’s babies. 
 
Martín pulled out of me, but the kissing wasn’t over. We rolled around in bed laughing with each other, kissing different body parts. At some point, our asses released our sons and nephews. Not long after we were 69ing wanting to taste each other. And let me tell you Martín was sweet as ice cream. As for my taste, he sucked me like a hoover and then claimed he couldn’t even recall, the greedy fuck. Once he said that I was back in his ass, wanting to breed him even more.
 
I had him try on different underwear, even a different color of my underwear just to make sure we weren’t missing something. He came out into the living posing on the couch, like a slut. One leg on my side table, his ass on the couch arm. Bulge in full view.

Yep, I did ride his cock, till his legs were weak. But what else could he have wanted posing like that? It said big bro come sit on my lap and show me a good time. After we were done, he stood up and asked me if anything had changed? He put a leg up on the couch, back facing me. His ass, the perfect peach.

So yes, I fucked him again. He clearly needed some big bro dick to stop being so goddam horny and I loved serving it. Our lust was insurmountable and I considered us lucky we weren't actually breeding nephew-sons, or we would have been in big trouble. That being said, it never insulted my dick to try. So, more ass fucking it was.
 
When we finally tired, resting back in my bedroom, it wasn’t even noon. Just a morning of nonstop fucking and brotherly desire. Martín laid in my bed, holding my guitar, fingers ghosting over the chords. My kids planted deep inside him. As his were inside me. The scene was more intimate and subdued than the wild ride of that morning and I loved it still. Our love for each other wasn’t just the sex, it was this. Our time together. 
 
Martín’s fingers began to pluck at the chords, and a pleasing sound met my ears. Took me a moment to realize he was playing one of my songs, off the top of his head. I closed my eyes, humming along.  It seemed like it was time to take my younger brother on the road. He wouldn't be going back to the house. His wish had come true after all. I hope he didn't mind if I first introduced him as my boyfriend.