Go Wake Up Your Brother

I was running around the house early that morning, my race car in my hand, racing it around every corner and up and down every wall and table. That car could drive anywhere! I was making race-car noises, too, not “Vroom!” but more like an actual race car, “RRRAUMMM! RRAUMM-RRAUMM! RRRRRRRRHHHH!” I finished with my race course in the living room, the couch, the coffee table, the lamp and the bookcase and was ready for the next set of obstacles...the kitchen!

Mom was inside there fixing breakfast. She and I were the only ones up just yet, as usual. I ran my car around under her bunny-slippered feet and she turned and nearly tripped over me.

“Kyle!” she shrieked.

“I’m sorry, Mom.” I said.

“You go play in the other room.” she said. “I’m trying to fix breakfast.”

“Okay.” I said, getting to my feet. At my age, not quite six years old, I only came up to the tie of her bathrobe.

“Go wake up your brother.” she said to me. “I swear, that boy sleeps sounder than anyone I know.” She was talking about Scott, my seventeen-year-old brother.

“He snores, too.” I giggled. I turned my race car into an airplane and went running out, going, “RRRRRRRRRR!”

I just heard Mom behind me. “Should have done that a long time ago. Kyle can make enough noise to wake the dead.”

I just giggled when I heard that. My “plane” went up the stairs, doing loop-de-loops now and then. “RRRRRUHH! RH! RH! RH! RUUUUHHH!!”

But when I got to Scott’s door, I stopped, silenced, opened it up slowly. He might be awake, and if he was, I wasn’t allowed to go into his room. If I woke him up, though, I could point out it was Mom’s idea for me to do it.

I could have called from the door, but I wanted to go inside. I don’t know if you remember from when you were a kid, but your older brother’s room is...magical! All kinds of stuff I wasn’t supposed to touch, ever. Things like his letterman jacket he’d gotten last year. Those big white shoulderpads he wore under his football jersey. His old jersey, too, worn and with a couple of holes around the seams, but he still wore it a lot. If I could spot it and he was still asleep, I would put it on and just feel it on me a while...then wake him up!

Scott was sprawled on his back, mouth open, eyes closed. A low “rrrruh” sound slipped from his throat, a rumble of low tones. I hoped my voice would get that low when my voice changed.

His jersey was on the floor, a red-and-yellow mass, I undid my shirt and put it down, and picked up Scott’s precious jersey. God, the strong smell of it, smelling of old sweat and grass and mud and the young man inside it, who had filled with so much vigor and energy and strength and happiness that it wafted over me as I slid it onto my shoulders. It hung so loose, it nearly fell of me, I had to tug the neck-hole way down my body to make the collar snug around my neck. Then I just scooped up that mass of cloth in front of me and I pulled it up and I breathed in. Mmmm!

If Scott caught me doing this, he’d kill me! I reluctantly pulled it back off and went over to do my duty to wake up my brother.

“Scott? Scott? Mom says it’s time to get up.” I said, very seriously.

Nothing. Not even a change in his tone, still that soft “rrrruh!” noise.

“Come on, Scott, you have to get up now.” I said a bit louder.

“Scott? Scott? Scott! SCOTT!” I screamed that last one.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Time to try shaking him awake. I screwed up my courage (my timidity was equal parts memory about the times he’d taken me down while we were wrestling for some reason, and part something approaching worship. Scott was everything I wanted to be some day, to touch that body that I wanted to be, to violate his presence like that, took a good deal of courage. But I reached out one small fingertip and pressed it to his shoulder, wiggled it. Then again. Then my entire hand. It was like shaking a sack of potatoes. You moved it...but it didn’t make any real difference.

“Scott? Scott?” I said while shaking him harder. Like a lump.

More drastic action was called for. I considered him, lying under that big, warm blanket, all snug and comfortable. Yeah!

I snatched hold of that blanket from the foot of the bed and I yanked it off, hard! It came down with a “whoosh!” of soft cloth inhaling and expelling air, and the covers were off the bed, only a corner was held by a combination of being tucked under the mattress and caught on one foot.

Scott wasn’t wearing his underwear to bed! I looked at him completely, stark nekkid!

I looked and then I snickered. “You’re buck nekkid, Scott!” I said, teasing him. “I’m going to tell Mom on you!”

Nothing. Scott was still asleep. I looked at him, his chest rising and falling in slow, even movements, and then I looked at the rest of his body. Remember, this was the body I wanted to have one day for myself, one just like my big brother’s! His arms were a lot bigger than mine, I wanted my arms to bulge out like Scott’s did. His chest, too, was so much bigger than mine, even allowing for our difference in sizes. His stomach, though, was nice and tight, nearly the same as mine even though I was so much smaller. Everything about Scott was so much bigger than mine...

And he had hair, too, more than mine. I only had a few white hairs on my arms, Scott’s was darker and heavier, especially around his peter. He had a lot of hair there, nearly as much as he had on top of his head. I didn’t have any around mine.

And inside that his peter looked...weird. I peered closer at it. All kind of wrinkled and dark-looking. My own peter was the same color as my body, but Scott’s was quite a bit darker.

I wondered if it was bigger than mine, I mean, speaking in terms of our different size. And while I knew Scott worked out with weights to make his arms bigger, I wondered how he made his peter bigger!

Since Scott was sound asleep, he didn’t wake up to me screaming at him, shaking him or yanking off the bedcovers, why would he wake up at me touching him a little bit? Right? So I got up onto the bed (nope, Scott was still asleep) and reached down and grabbed hold of his peter.

I was just trying to see how big it was, honest, and it was all scrunched up there. I pulled it out straight and it was long, really long! “Wow!” I said softly. It was a lot bigger than mine!

And it was getting bigger! Right in my hand, all pulled out, it was getting fatter and fatter!

“Grnnnnhh!” Scott said and I looked up quickly. His head tossed back and forth, but he settled down and his eyes were still closed. Now his wienie was stiff as it could be, and even when I let go of it, it sprang upright, just like a little toy soldier or something, right up out of my brother’s bed of hair.

I reached out and got hold of it again. “Wow!” I said again, softly. It was so warm! And hard, harder than anything I’d ever felt, but that hardness was all wrapped up in a thick soft coat of skin that was like the skin of a cat or something, all loose and if you want to, you can move it back and forth and not bother the cat at all.

Illustration of Go Wake Up Your Brother

I moved it back and forth, just to see what it felt like. I knew what it felt like for me to do it to my own, it felt real good. Very nice and kind of tingly, sort of, and if you kept it up, it would feel real, real tingly for a moment. Enough to really make your day!

Scott let out a soft sighing sound. Hey, this was waking him up! All right!

Mom told me to wake him up. All the regular stuff didn’t work. Why not wake him up and also get him in a good mood by playing with his peter?

I figured he wouldn’t mind. I didn’t mind when my friends wanted to play with mine! Heck, it was why we slept over at each other’s houses so much! So I kept right on pumping him up and down and up and down and Scott was moaning softly. I wondered if he’d wake up, and when. I’d tried it on my friends when they were asleep, it didn’t matter to them one way or another. But the way Scott was moaning, maybe he was feeling something.

A wet, sticky stuff got onto my hand and I looked down at it. A clear gunk had come out of the slit on Scott’s wienie and gotten onto my hand. I pulled my hand off, switching to the other one, and the sticky stuff made a long string across from my hand to the top of his dick, and I looked at it, curious. What was this stuff? It wasn’t pee, I was sure of that, pee is just funny-colored water, and it wouldn’t be all thick and gooey like this.

The string of the gucky stuff snapped and it got all over my palm. I looked at the center of my palm had a kind of a drop-shaped glob of it, shining away. Curious, I lifted it up to my face to sniff it.

It was the very essence of Scott in that glob, more so even than the smell of his football jersey. Without thinking about it, I licked at the glob, and it tasted the way Scott tasted to me. Not that I’ve tasted my brother, but it was like it was him, all of him, bundled up in that little droplet.

I scarfed the rest of it off my hand, licking and sucking at it. Looked down at that huge, pulsing pud in my hand, it was kind of reddened now, and I wondered how it was feeling.

Scott moaned and in his sleep, he hunched up into my now-still hand holding him, and that clear fluid bulbed out of his tip and gleamed at me.

I had to have more of it, I had to. I bent over and I got the head of Scott’s dick into my mouth and I sucked on it blissfully. God, it tasted so good, I wanted more of it, more and more!

I skinned down his cock with my hand and back up again and more of that tangy, salty, sticky essence of my big brother gushed into my mouth. I sucked it up greedily and when I did, my brother began to hunch upwards into me again, sliding his dong in and out of my mouth.

I started using a combination of my mouth and my hand on Scott’s huge, hot prong, sliding my hand up and down and letting that head slide back and forth, in and out of my mouth, the edge of the head running over my lips in both directions, and Scott groaned louder and he hunched even harder. I was getting more of that delicious juice, it was kind of like sucking a frozen pop-bar, you sucked it and some came out and what was left felt dry, but soon enough, if you kept at it, you’d get more sweetness as more of it melted. It was like that, but instead of his cock melting, it was producing more and more of that salty, musky juice that tasted just like my brother. Scott’s peter was really hard now and he was really moving it in and out of me, and I wondered if he was even asleep anymore.

I knew he was awake when he grabbed hold of my head with both hands and began to force my head up and down, his moans were sounding kind of urgent, like you do when you have to use the bathroom but are stuck in the car and your dad won’t stop for you to take a piss, and you have to hold it, and you moan and whimper. Scott was whimpering just like that, but instead of wanting to get up and go to the bathroom, he wanted to bury his dick in my mouth deeper, and move it, faster, faster and deeper, faster, faster.

“Uh-guh, uh-guh, uh-guh!” Scott grunted as he rammed in and out of my mouth, his hands were so tight that they kind of hurt, but I was used to Scott using his hands to hurt me, but not really hurt me, you know, the way that an older brother holds you down while he’s wrestling you, this was like that, I was uncomfortable, but I wasn’t scared at all, just sort of had to put up with it until he decided to let me go. From the way he was grunting, I figured that would be pretty soon. Whatever was going on with him, he was about done with it.

“Guh, uh, guh, I’m coming, I’m coming!” Scott grunted to me. I didn’t know what he meant, coming? That didn’t make any sense!

“I’m coming, I’m coming, oh, oh, here it comes, AH-BAHHH! HAH! HAH!”

And my mouth was suddenly filled with that hot salty stuff I’d been sucking out of him, now it was thicker than ever, and it was actively squirting out of his dick-tip into me, I gulped it down and more would shoot into my mouth, and I’d gulp again, and it was good, even better than before, because it was stronger than before, it was like crunching down on that frozen pop-bar so you could get all the sweet flavor at once!

Lots and lots of Scott-juice and I gobbled it all down avidly, even when he stopped squirting it out, I sucked on him trying to get more of it, and he lay back and let me suck him dry as I could, getting every lucscious droplet of that stuff out of him, and Scott was panting and sweaty and very, very awake.

I let go of him and sat up on my knees in bed and said, “Mom said it’s time for you to get up.”

“Get up! Oh, God! Oh, God!” Scott heaved. “Kyle, you little bastard, you! Do you even know what you did?”

I giggled. “I got something out of you, and it tasted real good!” I licked my lips. “Can I have some more?”

“More?” Scott panted. “No, not now. Jeez! What the fuck did you just do?”

“I played with your peter.” I said. “And it got all hard and then this sticky stuff came out. I tasted it and I liked it, so I sucked out some more. I got a lot more out of you.”

“You sure did, Christ!” Scott groaned. “You sucked me dry, you little brat!”

I snickered. “Can I have some more?” I asked again.

“Later.” Scott breathed, swallowed hard, gasped, said, “I get home from school, maybe. But you can’t tell Mom or Dad, okay?”

“Okay.” I said, sort of mentally shrugging. Scott had lots of secrets from Mom and Dad, and from me, too. Of course, I usually told on him when I learned them.

Scott read my mind. “You tell Mom and Dad, and you can’t have any more of my jizz.”

“Your what?”

“Jizz, come, cream, that stuff you sucked out of my dick.” Scott clarified.

“Ohhh!” I said, understanding and nodding. “Okay. Mom wants you to get out of bed.” I said again.

“I’ll get up, I’ll get up.” Scott said. “Now scoot out of here. I got to take a shower after all that, I’m sticky as shit.”

“Breakfast will be ready soon.” I said. “You’d better hurry.”

I went downstairs and Mom had the first batch of flapjacks ready for me. I poured syrup on them and then Dad came down dressed in his suit and tie, and he got the second batch.

“Where’s Scott?” he asked Mom, who looked at me.

“I woke him up.” I volunteered, my mouth full of syrup and pancakes. “He’s taking a shower now.”

“Taking a shower?” Mom said. “He’s usually still in bed at this hour.”

“Uh-huh.” I agreed, grinned widely. “I learned how to really wake him up.”

Scott came in about then, clean and dressed for school. “Yeah, the little creep got in bed with me and wouldn’t leave me alone.” he said. “I couldn’t sleep for beans with him in there.”

“Good.” Mom declared. “Kyle, you can wake Scott up from now on, okay? Maybe then, Scott can get to school on time.”

I looked at my brother and the slow smile that spread over his face. I grinned back at him and then at Mom. “Okay, Mom.” I said. “Every morning from now on.”