giving-them-a-show

Babes

Subject: Giving Them A Show Here’s a story taken from my Tumblr, at a4f101.tumblr/storytime. You can find this one, and the pic that inspired it, here: http://a4f101.tumblr/post/116078398364/ This story is purely a work of adult erotic fantasy, copyright me 2016. I own it and all legal rights to it. If you’re under the age of majority in your jursdiction, please come back when you’re of legal age. Nifty is an incredible free service that depends on your donations to survive. It changed my life, and maybe it’s changed yours too. Please help them to keep providing all the awesome porn they fty/donate.html I love hearing from you guys. hoo. Enjoy… ***** “Dude, you’re shitting me!” I said. He just grinned, shrugged his shoulders. “No lie, dude,” he said. “I cleared about two grand last month, give or take.” “Fuck, man,” I said. Despite myself, I was kind of intrigued. And two grand was a nice chunk of change, for what amounted to a few hours’ work a week. More than I made in two months serving up lattes at the little Starbucks down at the Student Center food court. Cole was a little sheepish at first about the whole webcam thing, but once he saw I wasn’t all freaked out about it, he got more enthusiastic. “I’m telling you, bro,” he said, taking a big hit on the joint we were passing back and forth, “you could do it, man. You got a great build, you’re not that much smaller than me. All you gotta do is wear some good underwear, flex up a bit, maybe show a little of the goods…” “Oh, that’s all, huh?” I grinned, taking a hit myself. “And these horny pervs will shell out just for that, huh bro?” “Well…” he said with a sheepish grin, “if you want to make the real bucks, of course, you gotta give `em a bit more of a show.” “So jack off, basically,” I laughed, and he grinned back, nodded. “Yeah man, they love that shit. Especially if you really draw it out. You can hustle `em for some serious coin if you hold off shooting, tease `em a little.” “Fuck, I can’t believe you actually do that, man,” I said. Cole had always been an enterprising dude, always able to find money-making opportunities. He took another big hit, fixed me with an assessing kind of look, then smiled. “Tell you what, little bro,” he said, voice husky with the smoke. “Why don’t you check it out for yourself?” I stared at him as he fired up his Macbook, logged onto the cam site, fussed with the lighting a little. “Get the blinds for me, will ya bro?” he said with a crooked grin, and I found myself closing them tight as he ducked into his bedroom. Curious about what was about to happen. He came back out a minute later, wearing his old high school football T-shirt and a pair of Under Armour athletic shorts. He got down on the floor, knocked out a rapid-fire set of push-ups, then squats, then crunches, getting his already big, thick muscles primed. Then he plopped down in his desk chair, pulled a fresh joint from the stashbox sitting beside his Mac, and shot me a grin. “You ready, gaziantep travesti little brother?” he said. It was showtime. I watched quietly as Cole – excuse me, “420jockbro” – went to work. He kept the camera carefully angled so nothing above his strong, square jaw showed, maybe the occasional glimpse of his full, lazily smiling lips from time to time. He started out lazily rubbing his big hand over the meat of his pecs, straining beneath the tightness of that years-old shirt of his. Flexing his big, thick, powerful arms slowly for the admirers. Teasingly rubbing his abs, exposing just the lower third of them. Then standing up to flex some more, showing off the big, round muscled mounds showcased perfectly in his athletic shorts. Every so often, he’d mute the mic, tell me what they were asking to do, giving me a running tally of the `tips’ he was getting. “And now,” he said in a mock announcer’s voice, “we come to the more naked part of the program.” And then slowly, teasingly proceeded to peel his old shirt up, crunching his abs tight as he did, flexing up his pecs. After that, he slid his shorts down a little, showing off the waistband of his designer briefs, playing with the skin below his bellybutton, the thick mass of muscle of his abdomen. Turning around to show off the tops of his big muscular cheeks in back, and then arching his back a little, making that thick, powerful ass of his pop, before he slowly skinned the shorts down his big thighs. I swallowed hard. He was really good at this. He looked amazing. “Check this out, this shit drives `em nuts,” he chuckled, and then slowly pushed the waistband down, showing off the upper part of his neatly trimmed bush. His cock was lazily thick in his briefs, a nice solid tube that grew a little as he began teasing his hand over it, while flexing up his thick quads. I swallowed some more, took a sip of water. Despite myself, I was kind of transfixed. I was watching my hunky big brother strip off for an audience of random, anonymous strangers on the internet, live in person. It couldn’t get much weirder. And then, he slipped his hand inside his briefs, and looked over at me. Slowly smiled. “This is the part where it gets… lucrative,” he said with an easy, stoned smile. His eyes flicked down to my crotch, and we both saw that I was throbbing inside my cargo shorts. I swallowed hard. He winked. Then he returned his attention to the show, and hauled his cock out. Fuck, he was big. Big and thick, perfectly proportioned to his big, thickly muscled college-senior body. I watched him slowly, proudly, teasingly play with himself for a good solid 15 minutes. “They want me to shoot for `em, little bro,” he said, and the casual ease of that sentence, the way he looked over at me, made me shiver. Made me throb. I was in alien territory, but I wasn’t the least bit afraid. I was intrigued. Compelled. “I have a better idea, though,” he grinned, and turned the mic back gaziantep masaj salonları on. “You guys want to see me and my bud?” “Dude, what…” I started, but he motioned me to be quiet. Smiled, nodded as he read the scrolling text filling the chat window. “You want to make some money, little brother? I’ll cut you in for 50% of what I make today.” He stared at me, smiling that maddening, easy smile, a gently encouraging look in his eyes. The fucker could get me to do nearly anything with that look, that sense of big-brotherly encouragement. I found myself slowly nodding, and his smile widened. “Good. Lose your shirt, and look in the second drawer in my room. There’s a couple of those Mexican wrestler masks. Bring `em back here, and let’s make some fucking cash, little bro.” I stripped my T-shirt off in his room, checked myself out. I’d worked out this morning, but I pushed out a quick set of push-ups anyway. I was tighter, leaner than Cole, my muscles more clearly defined. I looked pretty good. I found the two masks – black, tight-fitting, brightly colored around the eye and mouth openings – and brought them back out to the living room, where Cole was lazily stroking his big, hard, shiny cock. He grinned at me, stood up, and put the mask on me. It was immediately hot, a little itchy, but something about it – the anonymity, I dunno – was weirdly compelling. I felt… different. Bolder. More excited. Cole donned his luchador mask, then stuck the remains of his second joint in my mouth. I hit it, hard, and then he reached down, tugged the waist of my cargo shorts a little lower to show off my underwear waistband – “Dude, Under Armour, they’ll fuckin’ love that,” he grinned – slipped his arm around my neck and pulled me in front of his camera. Cole’s cock went back into his briefs for the time being, and I followed his lead. We flexed up, showed off, apparently driving the audience crazy with anticipation. And then my big bro started to touch me as I flexed, caressing my muscles, showing me off to the cam, drawing thick fingers slowly along the definition of my 19-year-old body. “Yeah, br… bud, show these guys how hot you are, studbro,” he said, and I had to stifle a stoned giggle, but I leaned in and flexed my tight bicep up hard. And for the first time, saw the chat window. Saw what they wanted us to do. Fuck, I don’t know why I hadn’t expected these kinds of demands, but I was shocked anyway. I’d made out with a guy, sure. I’d jacked off with a couple buds back in high school, me and my baseball teammates. But to do that with my brother… “Hmmm,” Cole said, leaning in to see what I was reading. He fished a fresh joint out, sparked it up, and spoke to them. “You want to see us swap tongues, dudes? See us jockbros make out? Well… like the old saying goes, guys – show me the money.” I watched the tally mount, real quick, gasping quietly. And then Cole looked at me. Smiled through the gaziantep escort bayan red-lined hole in his luchador mask. His big blue eyes were giving me that encouraging, playful look again. He took a long hit on the blunt, then exhaled a stream of funky smoke against my lips. I found myself parting them, accepting the smoke, and before I could say anything, he leaned in and kissed me. Slow, gentle at first. Lips moving mine open more, allowing space for his tongue to slip in. And then I moaned, surrendered to it, my cock raging in my shorts, as my big brother kissed me like a lover. Expert, deep, wet, hungry. We must have spent five minutes doing that, as I got into it, kissed him back, relishing his surprised, pleased grunt as I fed him my tongue, felt his body press to mine, his big hand reaching down to rub my overstuffed crotch. Slowly undoing my shorts, revealing the big bulge in my white UA boxer briefs. Then the slow, skilled, rhythmic rub of his palm against my big bulge, as I moaned into his mouth and leaked into my shorts, lost in his expert makeout. I panted as we came up for air, the two of us staring at each other as his hand slowly slid up off my throbbing bulge. I was already on the verge of cumming. He leaned in, and ran the width of his warm, wet tongue up from the center of my chest, up my throat to the base of the tight, hot mask I was wearing, as I clutched the big bulge of his biceps, shivered and moaned aloud. “We’re gonna take a little break, guys,” he said, and I suddenly remembered that we’d had an audience for all that. He hit a button on the Macbook, and the little red tally light by the camera lens went off. “Dude, that was…” he started. “Intense,” I panted, finishing. He grinned, nodded, as he peeled his mask off. His short hair was plastered to his sweaty forehead. His handsome face grinning at me. I found myself grinning back as I pulled my mask off. Then he pulled me back into him and kissed me again, slower and sweeter this time, his big hands roving over my body more tenderly. No paying audience now – just us. My head was spinning. “How much money did we just make?” I said when that kiss ended. He checked the little tally window, nodded with an impressed smile. “About $500, more or less,” He said. Looked at me with that assessing look of his again. I swallowed nervously. “You know… I bet we could make a lot more than that. Like… a lot more, little bro. I have an idea…” We cam as “420realjockbrothers” now. Cole just bought a new F-150, and my six-month-old GTI is halfway paid off already. And two, three times a week, if you log onto a particular cam site, you can watch me and Cole fuck, bare, live, for real. Cole’s big ex-jock cock sliding up my tail, before spraying his big, thick load over my muscles. My cock parting his muscular glutes and fucking the cum out of him. The two of us slowly sucking each other off simultaneously… and for the right amount of tips, slowly swapping loads in a deep, wet, tongue-dripping kiss afterwards. The luchador masks have kind of become our signature. A big porn producer out in San Diego just offered us a seriously lucrative deal to make videos for a new site. Cole wants to buy a house, and I want to travel Europe this upcoming summer break. I think we’re gonna go for it. I dunno… what do you guys think?

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