Painting Donovan Ch. 06

Donovan turned to look at me. "You like fucking me, little bro?" He lowered his head and groaned. "You're top dog tonight." He started stroking his cock. "But naw... Maybe we should stop, little bro. You shouldn't be fucking your big brother bare like this. It's wrong..." He groaned again, stroking hard and fast.

There wasn't anything right about any of this. But Donovan was mine now. His body was the body I was meant to use, his hole the hole I was meant to breed. This sweat, this smell, this heat, was all an expression of that certainty. Real sex, real love, had nothing to do with right or wrong. It was all about feeling and knowing. Like feeling his sphincter constricting, feeling his body trembling, knowing my brother was cumming, knowing I'd made him cum.

"So wrong..." gasped my brother between hoarse pants and spurts of splattering cum.

"Nah... S'alright bro," I grunted, cum surging up my balls. "It's only incest if I cum inside you." And then I was blasting it in, chugging protein into my brother's well-used rectal tunnel, exchanging salty fluids like they say we shouldn't, not between brothers. Semen and sperm went straight into his thick-muscled body, all of it, because Don was too tight for any of it to leak. Maybe one day it would.

Donovan finally collapsed onto his stomach, ass and all, and me on top of him. My brother moaned softly as I shifted and my cock slid out. I was totally drained. Topping was too much work. Maybe I'd stick to bottoming.

Like hell I would.

We dozed.

***

I was the first to wake up. Light pierced the venetian blinds and fell on our bodies in soft glowing bars. I reckoned it was an hour or so past dawn. Apparently I'd been drooling on my brother's shoulder. I looked down and then up at the mirror on the ceiling. JC was right. Our asses did look the same. The only difference was that Don's ass was pink and freshly fucked.

I rolled off and Don snorted awake. He looked at me with one eye open.

"Mornin," I said, yawning.

"You fucked me," he said in his gravelly voice, a hint of accusation in it.

"I did," I admitted happily.

Don started to roll onto his back but I put a hand on his ass to stop him. "No, don't. The cum stays in longer if you lie like this."

Don grimaced. "Does it always feel this way after?"

I rubbed circles around his ass. "You get used to it."

"No way you're fucking me again. Not for a year, at least!"

I chortled, "You mean like a moratorium?"

"Yeah, bro!" he said emphatically, though I had my doubts he even knew what the word meant. My big brother was no Pulitzer Prize winner.

"If it makes you feel any better, my cock's sore too." It was true. "It wasn't meant for something that tight."

Don started playing lazily with my limp dick. I ran a finger up my brother's spine, my mind wandering in a direction I didn't want to go. But there was no putting it off and this was as good a time as any.

"Don?" I said finally.

"Yeah?"

"What are we going to do about Owen?"

Don rolled onto his back so he could look at me expectantly. "What d'you mean?"

Owen had been at the top of my mind from the day Ashley left him on our doorsteps. Donovan had wanted to take him in the very day he'd got his clean bill of health from the hospital. Dad had been resistant to the idea. But in the end Mom seemed to have prevailed on him to agree that the best course of action was for us to take Owen in and raise him as our own. There was also our half-sister Liz to factor in. With three kids under the age of five already there was no way she'd take a fourth. But until we were settled, Owen would stay with Liz, and Mom would take time off work from the Bale Market to help out. That's where Owen and Mom were now.

As for me, well, I was just scared shitless. And I'd told Don as much.

It was partly because of Owen that we decided to quit our jobs and move to Kelowna. It was a good place to raise a family, a brand new life for us. Somehow Don would have to find a job, and somehow I'd have to make it as an independent artist. Sure, I knew it was the right thing to do. The problem was that Don seemed blithely oblivious to what raising a kid entailed. It drove me nuts.

I ran my fingers through my hair. "We're getting Owen in three weeks."

Don shrugged, "So?"

"Don... We don't know the first thing about raising a kid."

Don knitted his brow, "I think we know something about love. Haven't we had this convo before?"

"I mean practical stuff! Like what to feed him, how to make him sleep, what to do when he cries, I don't know if I can handle all that!" A thought crossed my mind. "Heck, what the hell we going to do if he gets sick?"

"We take him to the doc, I guess. Isn't that what we're supposed to do when a kid gets sick?"

"Dude! It's not that simple! And what about money, huh? What the heck are we going to do about money?"

"We'll find it," he shrugged again.

"What," I laughed incredulously. "At the end of the rainbow?"

"Bro, aren't you, like, an artist? You should be Kambayaing and shit," he smiled easily, stroking my stomach.

"Fuck Don! I'm serious!" I jumped off the bed and started pacing. The more I thought about it, the more worked up I was getting. We were going to be terrible parents. Terrible, fucked-up, queer parents.

And then Donovan was holding me. "Darren. Hey," he said seriously.

I stopped.

He looked me in the eye. "Take a big breath. Do it," he commanded.

I breathed.

"Now," he said slowly. "We've still got a month to set up our new place. I know you've been reading baby books. And you made me watch those videos. Mom and Dad are going to bringing Owen, and then they're going to stay with us for a week. They'll teach us what we need to know. And we can always phone them or Liz after if we get questions. We've got a great family, Darren. It'll all work out. Trust me in this. Trust in us."

He kissed me sweetly, and for a moment, I believed him.

Suddenly, Don's face took on a pained expression.

"SHIT!" he swore with feeling, turning to run. "Your cum! It's coming! It's COMING! I'm never letting you fuck me again!" he shouted before slamming the bathroom door.

***

"Aw shit, bro!" yelled Donovan. "Go for it! ...Go for it! ...Your cock feels so good! I'm gonna fuckin' CUM, AW SHIT AW SHIT!"

It was three days later -- the last night of our honeymoon on St. Bart's. We were in the missionary position and Donovan had just shot his second load of the night. I'd already cum inside him.

Suddenly, my cell on the nightstand started playing Beethoven. It was JC. I hit the speakerphone with my cock still in my brother.

"Hey," I said, still breathing heavily. We were covered in sweat.

"Howdie folks! How y'all doing?" For some inane reason JC had acquired a southern accent. "Things are gettin' real interesting here. Listen, I need you to-" I slid out of Don and he groaned. JC's voice went hushed, his accent vanishing. "Wait, are... are you guys having sex?"

Neither of us answered right away. Don, his forearm covering his eyes, was still having minor convulsions. I let his feet down from my shoulders and sat on my hunches.

"I bred him," I said finally.

"Holy shit!" JC swore. "You can't just--" Suddenly there was a grunt, followed by static and heavy breathing. Then JC was back in a breathless voice. "Hey guys, I gotta let you go. I just came in my pants. In the middle of the street here in Mexico. Congrats on getting him to bottom, Darren. I'll catch up with you two lovebirds later, 'k?"

He hung up.

"Would you look at that," I smirked. "I just made two guys cum in under a minute. You think this means I got a future as a top?"

"Shuddup. You sucked," croaked Don.

"You came twice," I reminded him laconically.

"I said shut up! You broke the moradorium. I'm going to sleep." He closed his eyes.

"You're the one who wanted to bottom! And it's 'mora-TOR-ium'...with a--"

That's when my brother slammed a pillow into my face. Then he manhandled me into a spooning position. He was still smiling when he fell asleep. I must have drifted off soon after, because I had an awesome dream.

But where life ended and the dream started, I couldn't say.