“When we finish our game, Fred.” George never even turned his eyes my way.
“But you’re taking all day!” I whimpered like any eight year old boy being denied the use of the video game player by his older brother and brother’s friend. George (my brother) and Trevor had been whaling away at “Worldstomper” for the past three hours. And they were still stuck on the final level. On the final level, you have to destroy the Worldstomper, who is there in the middle of the level. Trouble is, George and Trevor had thrown everything they had at the Worldstomper and hadn’t even fazed the thing. It just kept standing there unfazed and not moving much (I kept wondering when it was going to get around to stomping the world, like it was supposed to, as opposed to just standing there and growling and waiting for George and Trevor to come try again with it.)
“We’ll get him sooner or later.” Trevor said, also not taking his eyes off the screen. “We just have to find the right tool to use against him.”
“Let’s go back to the Icelands and check again.” George said.
“Aw, come on!” I griped. “I want to play.”
“You can play when we’re finished.” George said again.
“Awwww!” I whined and went over to the chair next to the couch and plonked down, looked at them.
Both my brother and his buddy were thirteen years old, and both were showing the indisputable spurt of growth that meant that soon my brother George would be like my other and even older brothers, Josh and Todd. They had blown up into teenagers like George was doing, and from that point on, they only thought about, talked about and went out with, girls, girls and more girls. Yuck!
It was like something happened to their brains! So there wasn’t a lot more time I’d have with George, with my only brother who wasn’t out there with girls. I wanted to play the video game with him. I wanted to do everything with him! Anything with him!
And here he was, with Trevor instead of me, and playing that same dumb game, on and on and on. They’d been at it for over six hours now, they’d started this morning, and here it was mid-afternoon, and they were still playing, still on the final level, still trying to destroy the Worldstomper, and George was paying no attention to me at all!
I wanted to play!
They were back at the Worldstomper again, both of them throwing all sorts of odd things they’d picked up at the Worldstomper, trying to get anything to work on him any way at all. Their eyes were intently on the screen. With nothing better to do, I got up (I couldn’t see the screen from where I was sitting) and I went over and, with no other place to sit, ended up right between the two of them on the couch. It wasn’t a big couch, the three of us were crowded there. Looked up at George from there. At only thirteen, he was nearly six foot tall and had dark brown hair like my mother (I’d gotten my own blond hair from my father), with sparkling blue eyes and a broad nose that fit his face in a way a narrower one wouldn’t, his smile was soft and supple when he smiled. Right now, his eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, his eyes weren’t sparkling at all, they were dull with his intensity, his smile was gone, morphed into a taut line as his fingers played over the buttons on his controller.
George didn’t look like George at all.
Trevor was the same way, he was too intent on the game to look like Trevor, the black-haired fun-loving guy who had been so much fun when he and George would come over years ago. Back then, we would play games and such until Mom would come in and make us go to bed, and heck, that was the best time of all! The three of us would get into bed (George and I shared a bed back then, because Josh and Todd were in the other two bedrooms), and we would play a game of grab-the-wienie and get to whacking away! God, that was so much fun. We had done it every time we got together, and George and I did it every other night as well...and then Josh had gone away to college and George had gotten to move into his room. Over a year now, and I was stuck in our old room, all those memories, and a brother who figured that we were over “all that kid stuff!” Well, I wasn’t! I never wanted to be over it!
My hands had been in my lap, so as though I didn’t mean to, I let my hands fall over onto George’s and Trevor’s laps. George grunted, I don’t think Trevor noticed it.
From there, I turned my hands over so that I was now cupping their baskets.
“Hey, cut it out, doofus.” George said.
“Yeah, we’re trying to play this game.” Trevor said.
But neither of them stopped playing their game. My hands were still on their baskets.
So I gave them a squeeze or two and started feeling out their cocks inside. God, it had been so long since I had put my hands on soft dicks inside briefs in the bed. They were still just like I remembered. Maybe a little bigger now.
“What do you think you’re doing?” George demanded. But his eyes were still on the screen. On the ninth level, you didn’t dare look away for a second, the pause button didn’t even work on level nine, neither did the save feature, and all previous saves were deleted when you entered the final level. At ninth level, you either won, or you died and had to start from scratch.
‘Playing with your dicks.” I said.
“So cut it out.” Trevor said. “You’ll spoil our game.”
“You’ll make us lose the game.” George added.
“So the game will be over then, and I can play.” I added cunningly.
“Cut out playing with us.” Trevor said.
“So make me.” I said.
A silence prevailed. “We’re nearly there.” Trevor said to George.
“I got the game figured. You pull the squirt off of us and I’ll finish the Worldstomper.”
“Forget you.” Trevor said. “You do it and I’ll finish the Worldstomper.” If a fellow fighter died, you could work over to where he’d died and access all his stuff.
I smiled. “So neither one of you is going to stop me from playing with your dicks.” I considered this. “Cool.”
With both boys at my unfettered mercy, I turned attention first to George, he was wearing a pair of loose jogging shorts. It was the work of a moment to slide my hand up one leg, and into his briefs inside, fish out his dong and slide it down and out the leg. George groaned in his frustration, but didn’t stop. “You rotten little pervert.” he breathed at me.
“Yeah, I know.” I giggled.
Trevor’s shorts were loose, too, only a tie at the waist kept them up there. Easy enough to untie them and reach in the top of them. Trevor kind of grunted, too, when I got hold of him, but he was rock hard when I did. “You can’t do this to us!” he protested.
“Sure I can.” I said. “Easy enough to stop me. Just stop playing the game long enough to whip my butt.”
“I’m sure going to whip your ass when I’m done here.” Trevor moaned as my fingers began to work his pud. For a guy who was getting his own growth spurt late (he was about my size, though five years older), Trevor had a pretty big dick! Bigger than George’s, and a lot bigger than my own little willy.
Not that I could pull mine out and compare here, I was busy with a pair of thirteen-year-old cocks. George’s pud had firmed up nicely though the leg of his shorts was trying to cover him up.
But I had both guys going.
“Guh, this is driving me crazy.” George grunted.
“Hang in there, man.” Trevor urged him. “We’ve got that Worldstomper now, he’s weakening now, finally weakening.”
“We’ve found the key.” George agreed. “Only...Uhhhh!”
“Fred, God, please stop this.” Trevor said. “You’re going to make us lose the game here, and we’re about to win! We’re about to...win!”
“I don’t care.” I chided them. “I’m play-ing with your di-icks!” I chanted, mocking them.
“Oh, shit!” George groaned. “I haven’t let Fred play with my dick since I got my own room.”
“I haven’t had it in longer than that.” Trevor moaned. “It’s so much better when someone else is whacking it! Isn’t it?”
“A hell of a lot better than whomping it alone!” George agreed. “I should have kept this squirt in my bed, let him keep me satisfied.”
“And me, too, if I come sleep over like I used to.” Trevor whimpered.
“Keep your eye on the Worldstomper!” George cautioned. “He’s moving now, moving!”
“Oh, God, and I’m getting ready to come!”
“I’ll keep your back while you squirt if you’ll do it for me!” George offered.
“Oh, no, you won’t!” I said and I sped up my pumping of George’s cock.
“Oh, shit, you little turd, don’t speed up, you’ll make us both come at once.”
“I can’t...keep...the Worldstomper...busy.” Trevor grunted. “I’m...missing...my shots!”
“Me, too!”
“Oh, shit, I’m coming!” Trevor gasped out. “Fred’s making me come!”
“Oh, God, oh, God, OH, OH, OH!”
“AAH, AHH, AHH!”
“OH, A-A-A-AH, UH-GUHHHHH!” George’s dick squirted his jizz right at me, hot white splats of jizz hit my forearm, not a lot of it, but definitely grown-up spooge!
“UH, GUH, HANHHHH-HUHHHHNNN!” Trevor squirted too, but his spunk was clearer, only a bit of white in it here and there. It landed on his t-shirt and glistened there like so many clear stars.
“Oh, God, oh, oh, SHIT!” George moaned. “I’m dead!”
“Ah-huh, ah-huh! Oh, God!” Trevor was working his controls, dodging the shots of the Worldstomper while he fought for his breath. But it was no good, he ran out of room to run and the Worldstomper’s bombs got him, too, and on the screen the Worldstomper laughed evilly, and the words in red appeared: “GAME OVER.”
“Shit, we lost!” George moaned.
“Have to start all over again!” Trevor mourned.
“And it’s all your fault, you rotten brat!” George threatened me.
I didn’t care. I’d played with George’s and Trevor’s dicks again after such a long time.
“I get to play now.” I declared.
“No way.” George countered. “You made us lose, you lose your turn at the game.”
“I’ll tell Mom when she gets back.”
“Go ahead.” George said. “That’ll be tonight some time.”
“We’ll be back up to Level Nine in an hour or so.” Trevor said.
“Now we know how to whip him.” George agreed.
I went to get a snack from the fridge and wait my time. Another hour until Level Nine. Another hour, and I could again play the game I liked, with a pair of hot joysticks I never tired of playing with!