tagGay MalePainting Donovan Ch. 04

Painting Donovan Ch. 04


Alright, so I decided it was unfair to end this series on a cliffhanger. If you read this and want more, say something.



"Come on, Don, get up. We're going to the lake."

It was the morning after the storm. Donovan lay on his stomach with his face half-buried in his pillow. I gave his body a shove, but my brother was built like a brick shithouse. There was just no give. I shook him harder. A hand shot out and grabbed my ass.

"Naw," grunted Donovan lazily. "Wanna fuck you first."

Donovan still smelled like sex. His shirt had ridden up, exposing a wedge of his backside, and the way he squeezed my ass had my dick pushing up against the crotch of my jeans in no time. I wanted to jump him bad. But it was too risky.

"You want Ashley to catch us?" I reminded him.

Donovan swore and rolled over. Sitting up, he yawned and scratched an armpit. Then he pulled me down and French-kissed me.

* * *

Last night had been a close call. My room was just down the hall from my brother's, so between when Ashley figured out my room was empty and when she'd flung open Don's door I had just seconds to scuttle beneath the bed. Lying on the floor too scared to even breathe, all I could think of was Don's cum cooling on my skin and on the bed. Thank God the room was dark.

As my sister stood in the doorway I could just make out the outline of her shapely legs. At twenty-one and the youngest of the family, Ashley was the kind of girl that attracted boys like flies to dead meat. She looked different enough from everyone else in the family that once, when she'd been little, she'd asked if she'd been adopted. Dad had replied dryly, "Yes dear. But they gave you back."

On the night she'd almost caught us she was a walking disaster. The rainwater dripping off her and pooling on Don's hardwood floor did nothing to alleviate the smelled of booze, cigarettes, and cheap perfume. But Donovan's priority was always family. It didn't matter that she smelled or that he was buck naked. He went to her straight away and got her out of her clothes and beneath a warm towel, mumbling reassuring words all the while. Only when he was satisfied that she was safe and dry did he start getting dressed. It took a while, but amidst her chattering teeth and broken sobs, we learned that she'd hitchhiked into town and that she was three months pregnant.

"Shit, Ashley," Donovan swore softly. Sitting together on the bed, I could see my brother's feet planted on the hardwood floor while Ashley's dangled twitchily beside him.

"Who's the father?" he asked.

"Gone!" she sobbed.

A confusing story ensued. At first, Ashley seemed to imply that she'd been raped, but when Don threatened violence on the perpetrator she backpedalled, saying instead she'd been involved in some kind of "misunderstanding". She'd been "sleeping" (read: wasted) at a wild house party. One of the other girls at the party had been intoxicated, and had gotten jealous about something, which then resulted in them fighting. The other girl had wrestled her to the ground ... and that was how she'd become pregnant.

This all left Don and I scratching our heads. I had half a mind to ask Ashley what fucking a transvestite felt like because nothing in her story made sense.

Eventually Don asked, "So what you going to do now?"

"I don't know," she mumbled.

"You have to tell Mum and Dad, Ashley."

Seemingly out of the blue, she asked, "Do you remember when Darren told Dad he was gay?" Without waiting for Don's response, she leapt into a rambling story, the grist of which was, "Dad started saying those awful things, his fucking sarcastic jokes. But then you came up and put your arms around Darren and you said, 'Nobody talks to my brother that way, you fucking got that Dad?' You said it really quiet, but it was like you were total different person." She ended it by sniffling, "No one's ever stood up for me like that."

"Aww, Ashley. You know I'd do the same for you. I won't let Dad push you around," he said earnestly.

"Why?" she asked in a voice that sounded broken and vulnerable.

"'Cause you're my sister," was his gruff reply.

For me, the exchange was raising red flags all over the place. Ashley had my dumb brother wrapped around her fingers and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. What was it that JC used to call her? He'd dated her once...

"Would you help me with my baby?" she pleaded.

"What d'you need?" offered Donovan immediately.


Ah... that's right; JC called her PMS, short for Poor Manipulative Slut.

"How much?" asked Donovan.

"Just a few th—" she began, but then stopped, distracted. "Why's your bed wet?" she asked, her tone curious.

I heard Ashley inhale. I imagined her sniffing her fingers, realization dawning on her.

Leaping off the bed as if she'd been scalded by hot water, she gasped, "Please tell me this isn't what I think it is." Suddenly, she didn't sound vulnerable at all.

Donovan just chuckled and shifted his weight on the bed, making it creak.

"Oh my God," she cried in outrage. "You were jacking...? I've fucking got... OH... MY... GOD! Ew Ew Ew EW!!!"

Shrieking, she ran out the room, slamming his door behind her. I breathed a sigh of relief as my brother started laughing, a deep rumble that echoed the receding thunder.

* * *

After the tricky business of getting Donovan out the door without being fucked, we drove about fifteen minutes out of town before pulling over. With the path to the lake overgrown and still wet from the storm, I had to do a fair bit of bushwhacking, which in a way was a good thing since it meant it wasn't likely we'd be disturbed. Still, it was slow going. The bulky canvas and easel my brother was carrying for me kept getting caught in the underbrush.

"So how'd you find this place?" asked Don, trudging up a hill behind me.

"JC and I used to come here lots," I told him.

A little further down the trees began to thin and the lake came into view. It was a small protected cove with wooded cliffs on both sides. Standing on the sandy beach in between, I was hit with a wave of nostalgia.

Donovan looked at me thoughtfully. "So you guys used to fuck here, eh?" There was a glint in his eye.

"Jealous?" I queried, raising an eyebrow.

Donovan let out a throaty laugh. Dropping his load, he manhandled me into his arms. "You bet. He's lucky I like him. Otherwise I'd knock out a few of his teeth the next time I saw him on the ice." Licking the back of my ear, he murmured, "Nobody fucks my little brother except for me."

I felt like vanilla ice cream melting, melting...

"I gotta set up." I said, pushing him away. "Start getting naked."

Between setting up the easel and preparing the paints, I kept an eye on my brother. For the past three months he'd been the inspiration that had kept me churning out some of the best works I'd ever done. It didn't matter that I couldn't display them publicly, let alone sell them. Painting Donovan made me happy, and not just because it usually ended in an amazing fuck.

Sex, though, was definitely on my mind as I watched Donovan undress. The plaid shirt that he was wearing made him look like a fucking lumberjack. Each button he undid showed off a fresh patch of skin. The ridge of his collar bone was followed by the cleavage of his pectorals, from the sheen of which I could tell he'd worked up a nice sweat on the way here. His treasure trail began at his solar plexus, a narrow, dark tongue of hair that winded its way between the weave of his abs. As he shrugged off his shirt with his massive shoulders, Donovan winked and shot me a devilish grin.

We both knew this was just foreplay to some hardcore bareback fucking.

Unbuttoned his cut-off jeans, I realized he hadn't bothered with underwear. His treasure trail flared into a mat of dark, roughly-trimmed pubic hair, from the midst of which a fat, hungry beast reared its head. It was enough to make me salivate. The purple vein that ran along the length of Don's cock seemed to pulse with raw energy. It wanted to be touched. It wanted to be buried inside a hot, tight hole where it could release a torrent of baby-making sperm and semen. My sphincter clenched in yearning...

"Stop that." I said reproachfully, snapping out of the trance.

"I ain't doing nothin'," drawled Donovan, trying to look innocent but failing. His cock twitched.

"Take your shoes and socks off," I ordered. "I want you wet and in the water."

My older brother usually did what he was told when I was painting. He'd bide his time in the knowledge that he'd be in charge when we moved on to the fucking. It was part of the give-and-take that made our relationship work. Now and then I'd make him hold awkward poses just to piss him off, knowing that he'd take revenge afterwards by giving it to me nice and rough.

Donovan ambled across the short stretch of beach and wadded into the water. He swam out free-style, his long, powerful strokes propelling him into the lake in a matter of minutes. Swimming back to the beach, he sat sprawled in the breaking waves, slowly stroking his big cock. With the morning sun setting his skin and the water sparkling, it was a damn beautiful sight.

About fifteen minutes into the session, Donovan stood up and started walking towards me.

"Hey!" I called, "I've still got five minutes on you."

But Donovan kept moving till he was standing right in front of me. With his brawny arms hanging loosely by his side while water dripped from his crude form, my brother radiated untamed masculinity. His expression was hard to read in the glare of the sun, but from the way his cock stood straight out, I was pretty sure he wanted to stick it into something.

"Look, " I started. "We can fuck after I—"

"Nope," said Donovan, shaking his head doggedly.

Then he closed the distance between us so fast that my paintbrush brushed his skin. Moving it left a dark blue gash across his chest. It was the color I'd been outlining the lake with, but on Donovan, it looked like the marking of a primitive barbarian. My brother grunted, glanced at his chest, and then back up at me with a crooked smile. At least this barbarian seemed friendly. He gave my body a playful once-over with appreciative eyes.

Just as I was beginning to think getting raped and pillaged might not be such a bad idea, Don's snub-nosed face suddenly lit up and he yanked the paintbrush out of my hand.

"Hey!" I protested. What was he going to do, use it to discover fire?

"Lift up your shirt," said Don.

"What? Why?" I demanded.

He waited patiently. Reluctantly, I lifted my shirt.

"Higher," he said. I lifted it higher. "Ok, hold it."

Dabbing at the pallet he started painting on my chest. The strokes felt cool and the hairs tickled as he brushed over a nipple.

"Hold still, will ya?" said Don, frowning. "It's hard enough doing straight lines on your body -- you're too fucking ripped -- without you squirming around."

I complied and Donovan resumed painting.

Eventually he stopped and stepped back. Satisfied, he snapped a few shots with the digital camera and showed them to me. Starting just below my lifted-up shirt he'd painted the words:


I couldn't take my eyes off it. In crude black font emblazon across my chest my brother had staked his claim on me. It was fucking beautiful.

"Well well well," grinned Donovan. "I guess we've got no choice now. You don't want to make a liar of yourself, do you?"

"Fucker," I shot back, sprouting a boner.

"Yup. Brother fucker," my brother said, licking his lips, his voice thick and husky. Pulling me into him, he kissed me enthusiastically, lingering to nip at my lower lip. He smiled as he lifted my shirt the rest of the way over my head and tossed it aside. A tug of a string later, I was as naked as he was.

Getting behind me, I felt his long hard cock slid against the crack of my ass. I leaned into him. "Go on, get wet for me," he murmured, clicking his tongue against the back of his teeth as we trotted into the lake.

When the water was still just ankle deep, he told me to lie down. This close to the shoreline, the water was warm and felt amazing. My cock was a stiff meaty pillar in the waves. Don stood over me for a moment, owning me just by the way he was looking at me.

"Fuckin' A," swore Don reverently, "I'm gonna fuck you so good, you won't know what hit you."

"Do it." I was hungry for some loving.

He knelt between my legs. "You gotta make some lube for me first, lil' bro." Running his rough hand up and down my thigh, he slowly jacked my dick with the other. Up and down, up and down, my brother was warming me up. The next thing I knew, he was straddling me, both our cocks rubbing together in unison in his big hand.

"You like that?" he rasped, a big fat grin on his face.

"Hell yeah," I breathed, watching his forearms ripple as he worked. Don leaned in and kissed me. Lickity split, he went from sucking my tongue to sucking my cock, his square jaw making a surprisingly tight seal as he coated my dick with his saliva. If my big brother had been a good cocksucker when this craziness started, he was now a pro. I felt up his thick neck and boulder-sized shoulders, liking how they powered his milking motion. And to think he was burning protein and carbs just to make me spew my seed... fucking unbelievable.

Don knew exactly what he was doing. Each time he'd bring me to the edge, he'd scrape the underside of my cock with his teeth and pull back. Then he'd start building again. I wanted to cum bad, but I owed it to Don to deliver an extra big load, so I held back. More cum meant more lube for a longer, harder fucking.

Finally, Donovan sat up. Putting both hands over my cockhead like a benediction he said the magic words: "Cum."

And just like that, I started ejaculating, right there on the beach. Throwing my head back, I spasmed uncontrollably, soaking my brother's hands with creamy white spunk. When I finally managed to come back down, I could see the cum seeping between his fingers. He'd milked one hell of a load out of me.

"Damn," said Don, staring at it. He transferred his now cum-dripping hands to his own cock and began stroking. He closed his eyes briefly in bliss. "That's good lube, Darren."

He shot me a look. "Get on your knees," he growled. "We're gonna fuck now like we were meant to fuck." His expression was harsh and hungry.

I put my hands and knees in the sand and arched my back like the good little bro I was. The tip of my dong, still hard, dipped into the water. Don smeared the leftover cum over my asshole. Rearing up, he brought my ass to his cock and held it there.

"Fuckin'..." he snarled, even as he pushed in. I felt the bulb of his cock nudged open my sphincter and slide against the walls of my rectum, making intimate contact with the nerve cells there. The fit was as snug as a bug, even with the natural lube.

"We keep doing this..." he hissed. "...but you're still so fucking tight."

I yelped as he pushed again, this time sliding all the way in.

"That's it. Make some noise. It's just me and you now. Nobody's gonna find out."

Pulling out part way, he slammed back in shit, cum, and cock. I howled like a bitch. He'd hit my sweet spot. Somehow he always knew where it was. My brother bent over me, letting his full weight lie on top. Don liked it when I kept my back arched and my arms straight, because it showed I was strong enough to support him. For me, the position was about maximizing the body contact between us and revelling in the feeling of being mounted. So maybe we were a little fucked up, being related and all, but we weren't hurting anyone. We were just two horny animals doing a little harmless inbreeding. All Don was doing was jamming his cock into my available hole. Someone had to do it. Why not my brother?

"Shouldn't feel so good," rasped Don, panting. Thrusting. "But it does. It just fucking does." I turned to look at him and he kissed me. But he didn't let up on my ass. It was a rhythm, a beat, like the breaking of the waves on the beach, except harder, faster, hotter.

Suddenly, Donovan slipped all the way out and wordlessly flipped me on my back. Facing me now, he slid his cock back in and went back to plowing me, his plain brown eyes taking me in even as he grunted with pleasure. His eyes flickered to my chest, where he'd painted me, and he shot me a sexy grin.

"Don?" I managed.

"Yeah?" grunted Don.

"You got more lube?"

He barked a laugh. "You ok about using mine this time?"

"C'mon," I panted between thrusts. "We can share anything."

As he leaned over to kiss me, he growled, "Hold on," and then went full throttle. Don's balls slapped against my wet ass crack even as they churned up a load. He was whipping up a big batch of 100% pure man juice just for me. My brother was an efficient cum-making machine.

"Here ya go." Straining, he slammed in deep, detonated good thick cum into my already drenched anal cavity. But he didn't stop. He didn't even slow down. He just kept on pumping, lubing up his cock inside my ass, mixing our fluids together and comingling our cum.

"Better?" rasped Don.

"Yeah. But I want more." I took my dick in my hand and started stroking. I placed my other hand on one of his pecs so I could keep time with his heart beat.

"Greedy lil' pig, aren't ya," chuckled Don, smacking my face with a wet palm.

"You can do it Don, I know you can," I gasped, spurring him on. If he kept fucking me I knew I could come a second time.

"Just one way to find out," he gritted his teeth over the slap slap sound of a wet pelvis hitting a wet ass. For an instant, Don pulled out all the way, my sphincter making a slick sucking sound. And then he plunged back into the hot reservoir of shared seed, my body shooting up on incest-tinged pleasure. I wondered if this wasn't just a dream, if my older brother was really knock me up, right here in the open. Was that really dirty spunk spilling out of my ass? Was my brother cock really going to fuck the jizz out of me balls? Was that really love I saw in Don's eyes?

His eyes crinkled. "Close," he grated.

"Me too," I choked. Don's fucking and the thought of my brother inseminating me had me on the edge of euphoria. I was going to spurt hard any second now.

Don abruptly pushed off his knees and onto his feet, bringing my legs way over my head. Staring open-mouthed at my own swollen member, I started cumming, salty white cream spewing out the slit of my cock directly into my mouth. I sloshed and swallowed, cum going down my throat like warm butter. Don was a considerate lover. He made sure I got my protein. Somewhere between the fifth and sixth shot I felt Don's own cum hit my inner walls. My brother roared as he dumped his second load in me, replacing the old cum that had leaked out from the raw fucking with a fresh supply. Don's slick cock was buried in my ass all the way to his pubic hair, which I could see were dark but flecked with cream. He liked to plant his seed deep because it stayed in longer that way.

Don leaned in, his chest heaving, and locked our lips, tonguing the cum I hadn't swallowed yet.

"Taste good," murmured Don easily, his cock still inside me.

"Uh huh," I sighed, tuckered out and just plain happy.

Suddenly, there was a splash. Don whipped around, both of us gripped with terror. A pair of beady eyed peered suspiciously from just above the surface of the water.

A beaver.

We burst out laughing.

"Guess it's official now. We got a witness!" Hooted Don as he tackled me, sending splashes everywhere.

"What you mean official?" I asked, struggling to get the upper hand in the impromptu wrestling match.

"You've been FUCKED, bro!" he chortled. Donovan slapped my chest. The paint was an unreadable mess by now.

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