Stories for Boys

an excerpt

Jude the Unsure

Jude is my brother.

We shared a brief childhood when my father married his mother. I was ten; Jude was fifteen.

If I wasn't quite certain before that I was gay, Jude cleared up any lingering questions for me. He was tall, lanky -- at that awkward stage when a boy's limbs outgrow his familiarity, and arms and legs seem to be unrelated newcomers to his body; uncoordinated in movement, elbows and knees and feet never where he expects them to be. His voice was a betrayal, lifting and sliding an octave in the middle of a sentence. The light stubble on his chin and upper lip was a betrayal, sparse and baby-fine, not a beard, but rather the soft down of a fledgling. I thought he was beautiful, an Adonis.

His cock was also in on the puberty joke -- in fact, it was the cruelest member, growing unexpectedly while he was about the most mundane tasks of brushing his teeth, doing his math homework, stacking dishes in the sink. I'd see a hard knob bulge his flies, and his cheeks tinged pink as he tried to will it down. I tried not to let him catch me staring, but I couldn't help it. My own curious, awakening cock would pulse, and I'd think about seeing him naked, erect, his fist on his dick and pulling... It was the most thrilling scenario my prepubescent mind could conjure.

I found any excuse to go into our shared bathroom when he was in there -- I needed a tissue, a bandage, I needed to take a leak -- anything to see him with his shirt off, or in his briefs, or maybe with just a towel wrapped around his narrow hips. If I was extra lucky, he'd be standing at the bowl, or just getting into or out of the shower. I'd fumble slowly, taking my time to fulfill whatever false mission I was on while I stole glimpses of his tantalizing cock hanging against his sac or held in his hand, and of his small, curved ass. He never growled at me for not knocking; he was unsuspecting, kind, and brotherly to me. I almost felt bad for taking advantage of his warmth to leer at his body, but not bad enough to stop.

Just as I was coming into my own sexual maturation, Jude left home for college. It was a very cruel blow to a very horny thirteen-year-old, especially bitter because at age eighteen, Jude had grown out of his awkwardness, and fit very trimly into a body meant for sex. His chest had broadened, shoulders and upper arms rounded in muscular growth; his smooth torso narrowed into tight, firm abs, and slim hips cut so sweetly into the hollows dimpling either side of his perfect ass.

Having Jude in my life sent me into accelerated puberty. Suddenly it was I, at thirteen, who developed in awkward spurts, who lost control of limbs and voice and hair growth, and suffered humiliating betrayals by my cock at the worst of times. For as much as I wanked off to fantasies of my older brother, you'd think my dick would've been too chafed and drained to unexpectedly twitch to life. It was not so.

I'd wait for Jude's arrival back home on holidays. Basking in his company was better than any feast or stack of presents. I'd stick close by his side, sneaking little in-breaths of his musky, wind-brushed skin. I'd touch him over and over, whether I lingered my fingers on his as I passed a dish, patted him on the back while laughing at his jokes, or engaged in what my father called "roughhousing" -- jumping on his back, flopping into his lap to squirm and wrestle and savor the bliss of feeling his body against mine. To our parents, and to him, I believe, mine was the sweet admiration of a younger brother for an older one. To me, it was love of a very different nature.

Once, I trapped him under the mistletoe and demanded a kiss, making as much of a joke of it as I could while I blushed and trembled. He pushed back my long fringe and gave me a very loud, wet smack right in the middle of my forehead. I laughed, pleased and disappointed at the same time. If only I could show him what I really wanted...

When I was fifteen, Jude invited me to stay a weekend with him in his college dorm room. I thought, this was it, the chance I had been waiting for to reveal my true passion.