The Bride's Brother Ch. 01

Ricky, my partner, unlocked the bedroom door and I noticed Jason peering down the corridor to make sure the three of us weren't being watched.

"Are you sure your wife will be asleep?" I checked with him, as I closed the door behind him and Ricky clicked on one of the bedside lamps.

"Yeah, she were rat-arsed when I brought her up to bed," Jason replied. "If she in't asleep, she'll be throwin' her guts up in the john. Either way, she won't notice if I'm not there."

He sprawled himself out in the white leather armchair which was positioned to one side of our double bed. His large, tall frame was almost too hefty for it and his thick, tattooed forearms hung over each side.

"Come on then, lads," he laughed with a drunken drawl. "Ya know what I'm here for... let's see the two o' ya get started!"

"Surely you want us to undress first?" Ricky asked. I could tell from the way he slightly slurred the word 'undress' that the alcohol was affecting him more than his manner would suggest.

Jason chortled and then said, "Naah... it'll be better if ya start off with yer posh suits on. Make it more interestin', like."

"It'll be a bit difficult for us to have sex in our suits," Ricky pointed out, undoing the top button of his shirt and loosening his tie. "If you're sure that's what you want to see...?"

Jason laughed again. "That's exactly what I wanna see. The full fuckin' works! How two blokes get down to it... wankin', suckin', bummin'... the lot!"

The two of us couldn't help giggle and Jason looked puzzled at our amusement. I explained to him: "Bumming is a bit of a playground word."

He shrugged and dismissively waved his one of his shovel hands. "Well, whatever you wanna call it, then. I wanna see a cock goin' into an arse, put it like that!"

"Surely you've seen your own doing that to your wife?" Ricky asked.

Jason chuckled. "That's different, mate. I wanna see how you guys do it. How it works when you've got two men goin' at it together... two rock hard cocks and a couple o' tight little arseholes!"

I looked at Ricky and we smiled at each other. We'd never made love in the presence of an audience before - well, not to our knowledge - and it would be intriguing to have another man - especially a big, ostensibly straight bloke like Jason - sitting alongside us, watching us perform.

"Do you think it'll be different from what you're used to?" I asked him.

He grinned. "Fuckin' yeah! Of course it will! Two 'orny blokes, both 'ot for each other, with no woman there to tell them she's gettin' tired, or gettin' an 'eadache or whatever!"

"I think you're over-egging it a bit," Ricky laughed. "You'll probably find we're not as dynamic as you're expecting us to be."

Jason just chuckled, clearly unconvinced. "Come on, fellas. I know how it works when it's two gay blokes goin' at it together. I've seen stuff on the web. All that spunk in yer bollocks and no-one to keep a lid on things... I think we all know what a fuckin' good show I'm gonna get!"

He slouched back into the armchair, trying to make himself more comfortable, and gave the growing mound of his crotch a gentle rub through his black formal trousers.

Ricky and I grinned at each other, fascinated at seeing this large, burly man starting to become aroused, while Jason smirked back at us, enjoying the fact we were both clearly attracted to him.

"Ya don't mind if I give my todger a little work-over while I watch, do ya?" he asked.

We both shook our heads. Did he mean he was going to get it out and wank himself off in front of us?

"Okay then, lover boys," he said with a grin, his finger and thumb finding his thickening rod through the black material and slowly moving up and down it. "Let's see how the two of ya do the dirty together!"

===

Jason had first come over to our table in the hotel bar just after the wedding service. The photos of the bride and groom's families had just been taken in the gardens and everyone had dispersed into their own small groups trying to find ways to fill time until the evening. Ricky and I had been sitting together, drinking quietly in the corner, feeling a little awkward that we knew so few people in the party.

Jason had sat himself down in front of us, his half-empty pint in his hand, and introduced himself as the brother of the bride, although both Ricky and I had long since guessed who he was. It wasn't just his prime position at the front of the church which had given it away: he had exactly the same shade of dark brown hair as Amanda, the bride, and his face was instantly recognisable as a younger and more athletic version of her dad's.

Indeed we'd both noticed him as soon as we'd arrived that morning: he was a tall, muscular bloke struggling not to burst out of the new suit he'd been squeezed into and looked like he'd be more at home getting oil all over himself under a car than having to parade around in his imposed finery. Ricky had whispered in the church that Jason was 'RBC' - an abbreviation which I knew stood for 'rough but cute' - and I had quietly agreed that he had the build of a rugby player, a sturdy physique which my partner knew me to be an ardent fan of. We'd grinned at each other as we saw him take his place on the front pew of the church: his buttocks looking full and succulent as he'd hitched up his jacket to sit down and the hem of his underwear clearly defined against the straining seat of his trousers.

Now that Jason was right in front of us, his sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms like tree-trunks and swathed with faded tattoos, the two of us were reduced to ogling him speechlessly. He seemed to recognise that the only two gay guys in the wedding party admired his appearance and, from the broadness of his unaffected grin, it seemed that the knowledge was far more amusing to him than it was threatening.

"You're friends with David, the groom, aren't ya?" he asked us after we'd clumsily introduced ourselves and managed to make some obligatory small-talk about the wedding service.

Ricky nodded. "He was on the same course as Scott at university," he told Jason, gesturing towards me.

Without further prompting, Jason said, "You two look really good together."

We must have just stared at him because he chuckled and clarified himself: "What I mean is, ya make a nice couple. I think it looks great to see two fellas in a relationship - I wish it were somethin' you saw more often."

Neither of us knew how to respond and eventually Ricky, for want of anything better to say, muttered, "I thought straight guys were supposed to think that women make nice couples. Not pairs of guys..."

Jason laughed at that; a real blokeish belly laugh.

"I'll grant ya that," he agreed after taking a swig from his beer. "Lesbian couples are usually better to look at than gay men, in some respects at least. But you two look pretty good together too - ya seem well-matched and ya look really nice in yer flashy suits."

We continued to feel a little uncomfortable from his attentions, but we thanked him nonetheless. It was true that Ricky and I made a fetching sight together: we'd been an item for over ten years and had that easy familiarity with one another which instantly betrayed that we were a lot more than good friends. Ricky was a little shorter than me but was strikingly more handsome, having a beautifully tanned Italian complexion and a thick head of luscious black hair to match. In contrast, I'm blond-haired and blue-eyed, with what has most charitably been described as a "boy next door" face and just the first signs of wrinkles starting to show around my eyes.

We both kept ourselves well-toned at the gym and were both keen swimmers (we'd met at the local pool, incidentally), and I must admit that Jason was right about how stunning we both looked in our sharply-tailored suits, wearing deliberately contrasting Sam Homber ties.

"So what do you lads do, then?" Jason asked, and then added with a somewhat bawdy chuckle: "Yer jobs, I mean."

I briefly described my work in water purity for the Environment Agency and Ricky told him that he's an accountant.

Jason nodded, pretending to be interested, and I noticed, from the way he was perched on the bar stool, that his trousers had ridden up, emphasizing one of the biggest packages I'd ever had the good fortune to lay my eyes on. His fly seemed as if it was on the point of giving way with the pressure of the huge mound of flesh it was struggling to retain and I'm sure I could make out his thick, flaccid cock curling like a German sausage with its prominently-ridged head poking outwards between the paired lumps of his fattened bollocks.

Jason saw me eyeing up his voluminous crotch and beamed a suggestive grin at me. I felt my cheeks blush and I looked self-consciously down at the ice in my gin and tonic, only pleased that, unlike many other straight guys who found themselves in his position, Jason didn't seem offended by having a gay guy check out his bulge.

"So... er... what do you do for a living?" I managed to ask him once Ricky had finished explaining, in far more detail than was necessary, how he wasn't the sort of accountant who handled people's tax returns.

Jason replied, "Ya know those orange cones ya see on the motorway when they're doin' repairs?"

We both nodded.

"Well, I make the white reflective sleeves that fit around them."

I couldn't immediately think of a response to that and Ricky seemed lost for words too.

Jason laughed at the two of us gawping gormlessly at him. "Don't worry, fellas - it's always a conversation stopper, that one!"

I was about to make some inane comment about how none of us pause to think about the origins of objects we take for granted, when Jason stood up, told us how good it was to meet us and said he'd catch up with us later.

As he carried his pint back to the bar - flaunting, or so it seemed, that voluptuous arse of his - Ricky and I looked at each other quizzically.

"He seemed... er... friendly," I suggested.

Ricky chuckled. "Was he hitting on us?"

"I don't think so," I replied. "He was with that woman in the church... the stoat-faced one with the dress about four sizes too small for her. I think it was his wife."

Ricky shrugged. "Well, for a married straight guy, he seemed very interested in the fact we're a couple."

"I guess some men are just curious about how things work when it's two guys. Or maybe we're the first male couple he's met."

He nodded and looked back over at Jason who was now chatting with another bloke at the bar.

===

Ricky and I took our shoes off and kneeled on the bed together, facing each other. We were chuckling to ourselves at how naughty this seemed: to be on the verge of performing intimately together with another man sitting watching us just a few feet away.

"Let's see ya kiss first," Jason instructed us. "Get things started with a nice, juicy Frenchie!"

I looked over at him, admiring how large his cock was starting to look as it slowly developed in size from being toyed with through the confines of his trousers. I've always liked the fact that Ricky has a much larger manhood than I have, but even his would shrink into insignificance in comparison with Jason's gargantuan shaft.

"I didn't think you'd want to see us doing that," I said. "I thought seeing two men kissing each other would be a turn-off."

"It's not my favourite thing and I'd never be able to do it mysel' - well, not wi' a bloke! - but you've got to start somewhere, haven't ya?"

I turned back to Ricky and we leaned towards each other. I closed my eyes and we gently pressed our lips together, working our tongues together hesitantly rather than sensually because of the strangeness of being watched.

Jason laughed at seeing us kiss.

"Yeah... that's nice, that is!" he called over to us, sounding distinctly interested in what we were doing in spite of his amusement. "Get stuck in, lads!"

Ricky's tongue steadily grew in confidence and started working itself into my mouth with more force. I pushed back against him, refusing to be dominated by him, and I felt his lips smile against mine as we enjoyed our gentle play-fight with our tongues. His stubble ground like sandpaper against my chin: in spite of him having shaved that morning, he already had the makings of a beard coming through dark against his skin.

"Put yer arms around each other," Jason commanded. "Do it like ya mean it!"

We did as he'd told us to and held each other by the shoulders. It was difficult to caress each other with our jackets on but we did our best to at least suggest to Jason some of the affection we felt for one other. We worked our hands down each other's backs and Ricky groped at my backside under the tails of my jacket.

Our kissing became more passionate as we started to relax into it in spite of being so intently watched. Our tongues played together, one of us pushing more firmly until the other reasserted himself, and our lips puckered against one another, teasing and resisting each other's attempts at dominance with the two of us smiling at the game we were playing.

"This in't doin' it for me," Jason cut in, an edge to his voice underlining that he was eager to move things on. "Work yer cocks against each other through yer trousers. Let's see ya gettin' each other 'orny..."

We shuffled forwards together, both willing to be directed by this tall, authoritative man, so that our crotches were pressing together as we continued kissing. I could feel that Ricky was already running a semi - he was far more aroused than I'd expected - but my own smaller organ was resolutely limp. For some reason I was becoming nervous to be performing like this for another man: I didn't like the pressure of having to be sexual on command rather than on impulse, and I was more uncomfortable than I might have expected to be showing a stranger how two gay guys enjoy intimacy together.

Ricky started rubbing himself up and down against my groin so that I could feel him getting harder as he did so. The feel of his growing stiffness rubbing against my own insubstantial shaft through my trousers made me start to feel more excited. This was my lover's developing cock becoming aroused against me: that was what I had to focus on.

"Okay, lads, that's enough pissin' about," Jason said more impatiently. "Unzip yoursel's and get yer knobs out. I wanna see ya playin' with each other's cocks."

===

I next saw Jason later in the afternoon after I'd grown bored of watching the cutting of the cake and had left Ricky among the crowd taking photos of the couple smiling wearily with the knife held in interminable poses while I popped to the gents for a pee.

I was standing at the empty row of urinals and had just started relieving myself when I heard another man slam into the toilets and position himself alongside me, leaving an appropriate one urinal gap between us.

Before I had chance to surreptitiously glance over to see who had joined me, Jason's deep voice boomed across to me, "Ah, it's you Scott! Didn't see ya there, mate!"

Even in my surprise, what Jason had said - or, perhaps, rather the way he'd said it - registered as pre-prepared. I wondered afterwards if he'd followed me into the toilet deliberately.

I looked over at him, struggling to pull his cock out through his fly. The tightness of his trousers was proving troublesome and it didn't help that the zipper on his fly seemed to only open halfway.

"Bloody suit!" he laughed. "New on today and the zip's already knackered!"

I'm not surprised, I thought, with the strain you've been putting on it.

"Still, I don't suppose I'll need to wear it a second time," he went on, continuing to wrestle with his organ through the narrow opening of his fly. "Amanda's the last one in the family to get married."

I nodded, trying not to peer too intentionally at the difficulty he was having with the front of his trousers.

"It might come in 'andy next time I'm up in court, though!" he laughed.

I smiled and then got on urinating, turning back to face the tiled wall in front of me.

"There! That's got it!" he exclaimed in a way that seemed to encourage me to look back over.

I didn't take the bait: this guy was, after all, straight and married and could conceivably turn nasty if he thought I was checking out his penis as I stood alongside him in the gents.

So instead I asked, with what I hoped was a pointed emphasis: "How's your wife enjoying the wedding?"

"Laura?" he asked, as if I would somehow know her name. "Yeah, she's 'avin' a good time. There's plenty o' booze on the go, so that's keepin' 'er out o' mischief!"

I continued peeing, staring straight ahead as the flow reduced to a trickle.

"Are you and yer fella stayin' over in the 'otel tonight?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied. "We both like a drink, so it seemed easiest to stay over."

"Yeah, same with us," he agreed, his cock seemingly refusing to produce any urine. "Makes sense, doesn't it?"

I nodded and shook myself, releasing the last few dribbles of pee.

"Are you lads in a double room, then?" he asked.

Now I did turn to look at him: I was unable to stop myself. He grinned at me with his cock poking out from his fly. He made no attempt to hide it - if anything, he purposefully held it outwards between just his finger and thumb as if wanting to show it off to maximum effect.

And it looked absolutely enormous: much bigger than I'd guessed. It was easily as thick as my wrist and about eight inches long, and as far as I could tell it was completely limp!

I stared at it wide-eyed and he peered at mine, looking like a tiny and shrivelled chipolata in comparison with his over-sized bull-dick.

"I only ask," he said, yanking his foreskin back to reveal a fat, pink helmet-shaped head, "because we 'ad to settle for a twin. They 'ad no doubles left by the time we booked."

"No, we managed to get a double," I muttered, unable to stop myself from staring at his huge cock. He jerked his foreskin back and forth a few times, trying to coax it to start peeing, and it seemed to grow a little between his fingers as if it had interpreted the action as a masturbatory tug.

"It'll be nice for you lads to have a double bed," he suggested. "Sometimes the whole weddin' thing makes ya feel a bit romantic, doesn't it?"

I looked up to his face and saw him grinning at me. "From over 'ere, Scott," he chuckled, throwing a purposeful look towards my crotch, "it looks like it's already worked its magic!"

I realised that I was now holding an erection which arched upwards through the fly of my trousers. Even at full-size, my cock had a mere fraction of the bulk of his and the exposed pink head of it looked tiny and bean-like in comparison with his plump, purple mushroom cap.

"Sorry, I... er..." I stammered, struggling to tuck my unintended hard-on back into my underwear.

"Don't worry," he laughed. "Yer mate Ricky'll sort that out later for ya, I bet!"

I walked over to the washbasins, my erection making the front of my trousers stick outwards. I looked over at Jason through the mirrors above the sinks, turning to chuckle at my reddening face as he still held his uncooperative organ out towards the urinal.

"I'm gonna have to pull my trousers down a bit," he announced. "The zipper's too tight for me to be able to piss."

I nodded, turning on the hot tap to wash my hands and trying not look as flustered as I felt.

He undid his belt and hitched his trousers down. He was wearing tight, white briefs underneath and he hitched those down too.

"Sorry to show off my arse," he said. "Hope it doesn't put ya off yer weddin' cake!"

I pretended not to have heard his comment and squirted some soap onto my fingers.

Nevertheless, I couldn't stop myself looking across at his bum through the mirror. His large, muscular buttocks were pale and hairless but the deep valley between them was thickly forested with an abundant tangle of coarse, wiry hair. It was exactly the sort of backside I loved to get my face into: nice, firm cheeks so handsomely framing a moist, sweaty cleft. His arse crack would reek of his rich, manly scent and right down low, where the rear gusset of his briefs was nuzzling between the tops of his big, hairy thighs, his hot, juicy hole would, I was sure, taste divine.