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I tried to control it, but the thought of making love to Jonathan - who was, to my eyes, everything Steve was, and more - was an incredible turn-on.Īlthough Jonathan and Steve were very close, Jonathan and I never had been, probably due to my absolute terror of ever accidentally slipping and saying something to him about how I felt. It was a strange situation: I was very much in love with Steve, but I also had the hots for his brother. It would have been interesting to see what he answered, though, and I spent many a jerk-off session thinking about what might have happened. Every time he would talk to his brother on the phone, I would be whisper in his ear, "Ask your brother if he wants a blow job." He never did, of course, but he stopped getting angry. In an icy voice, he assured me had not and told me to drop the subject, for now and forever.Įventually, I think Steve started to see it as a joke. He bought that, but if he had seen the tent in my pants, the game would have been up! I got about the same reaction the first time I asked him if he had any idea whether or not Jonathan had ever had a gay experience. The first time I asked him if he thought (or knew), Jonathan was well-hung, he almost slugged me.I had to hatch this explanation that I was interested only for "comparison purposes," since Steve was rather well-endowed. Steve was so defensive of his older brother, it was like pulling teeth to get him to see Jonathan as anything other than the older brother he worshipped. Over the course of the five years Steve and I have been together, I was able to bring Jonathan up in conversation only a few times. I had to find a chair and sit in it fast.my hard-on was too obvious. He was taller than Steve, slightly darker - more mediterranean looking - dark curly hair, brown eyes, a chest so hairy it showed through his shirt, and a basket that made his tight jeans look really well-stuffed. My eyes were okay though, and I looked and stared as much as possible without being obvious. There he was, the object of a whole bunch of my masturbatory fantasies, in the flesh, and all I could do was say "Hi!" and even that came out in a nervous little voice. The first time I ever met Jonathan, I was so nervous I almost puked. It was true though - Jonathan was taller than Steve, had curlier hair, a moustache - and he looked a bit like an older, more macho version of Greg from "The Brady Bunch." With Steve's reaction to my comment about his older brother, I decided to keep my mouth shut but when he put the picture in a frame and put it on the bedroom dresser, it was hard to ignore the feeling in my groin every time I saw the photo. When Steve showed it to me, I kinda pissed him off by saying "What a hunk!" or something like that about Jonathan. It was a standard professional-type studio picture, with Steve seated and Jonathan standing over him. My first introduction to Jonathan came by a way of a photo from some family event of Steve's.
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When Steve and I talked about him, it was always "Jonathan," never "Jon." With most people the extra verbiage would have been silly - but it always seemed like some kind of insult not to call him Jonathan. It's about Steve's older brother, Jonathan. Right now, Steve and I have been together for about five years.īut this story isn't about Steve. He had a thin, muscular body - "lithe" would be the right word - and what they refer to in porno stories as the "dick of the death." When we met, it wasn't love at first sight - far from it! - but as we got to know each other, some real deep feelings took root. With his olive complexion, dark - almost black - hair, ice-blue eyes, aquiline nose and hairy chest, it was easy to miss the rest of Steve's assets. He was a few inches shorter than I, but nature made up for it in other ways.