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[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]During the following week, it was business as usual for me - school and homework, chores... and sex with whoever was available and wanted to do it. I don't recall thinking a whole lot about my cousin and his crazy game during the week but when my father told me Friday morning that he had talked to his father and was told my cousin wanted me to spend the weekend with him, I didn't think a whole lot about it - that, all by itself, wasn't unusual and more so since he was an only child. So, after school, I get "packed" up and go his house to spend the weekend.

When we got sent to bed, well, I knew we'd still be up talking about this or that... and was totally taken by surprise when he said, "Please, master - don't stick your dick in my hiney!" I hadn't been looking at him when he said that and when I did, shit - he was naked and lying on his stomach! I didn't even take the time to ask myself the obvious question; I just put a lot of spit on my dick and did what he said he didn't want to be done. As I entered him, I groaned and he groaned; he said, "It hurts, master, but don't make me want you to take it out!"

Whatever. I was in him and I fucked him and he was liking it and I should have expected the next thing out of his mouth: "Please, master, don't shoot your stuff in my hiney!" I shot my stuff in... and he giggled and moved under me in what I thought was a very happy way. But he wasn't done with the game and as I pulled out and rolled over he said, "Please master, don't order me to stick it in your hiney and shoot my stuff in you! I beg of you!"

A moment later, my cousin's dick was into my ass up to his pubic bone and feeling him on top of me and sliding in and out of me was sheer heaven. The expected "Don't make me shoot it in you!" thing came up and I managed to say, "Do it or else I'm going to punish you, slave!" and rejoiced when a few moments later, I felt his cock pumping away in my hole. Delicious. Nasty and delicious. Still very weird but okay. We took turns going to the bathroom to clean ourselves up and as we laid in bed, I was wondering what was next or if we were done for the night.

We weren't. It seemed that my "slave" really liked getting his dick sucked and sucking mine and I couldn't tell you how many times we did just that - I lost count after the third time - but the night for us ended with my dick buried in his ass and it seemed he liked that better than having his dick in my ass. But things didn't end there.[/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]The next day, we're off to the contest and not a word was said about what happened the night before. We both kicked ass and took names, came home with first place trophies in our age/weight divisions but because we got home late, it was decided that I stay the night again and go home in the morning.

We hit the bed, still amped up over our victories and out of the blue he says, "Don't make me let you do it to me."

Huh? What the hell is he talking about? And while I'm trying to figure that out, he's out of his pajamas and he's tossed the covers aside and his dick is quite hard. It clicks in my head now and I said something like, "You're gonna let me do it to you or else!" and he's saying, "No, please don't make me do that!" - while tugging on my arm to get me on top of him... and like I really needed to be urged. As I'm grinding on him, he's "begging and pleading" to not be made to do this but he's grinding back against me just the same. In my head, I'm wondering what the fuck is going on but this is feeling good and I squirt my stuff all over his cock and balls after feeling his cock twitching and I felt his stuff being smeared between us.

"We should stop," he said and I rolled off of him. I wanted to talk about his so bad it wasn't funny but he wasn't feeling it; the two of us just laid there and I'm confused and I don't know what he's thinking. I guess maybe ten or fifteen minutes later, he says, "Don't make me lie here while you suck my dick - please don't!"

I don't know what the hell is going on but I "make him" lie there as I sucked the sperm right out of him. I'm thinking he's gonna say that we have to stop again but he fooled me by saying, "Please, master, don't make me suck your dick!" What the... but, okay, slave, get down there and suck my dick and you'd better not stop! I gave the "command" and I'm surprised he didn't hurt himself getting between my legs and slamming his face into my crotch. He's sucking me, it's feeling heavenly, and he stops long enough to say, "Master, I don't want to swallow your stuff - don't make me do it, I'm begging you!"

It felt like I shot a gallon or two of stuff into his mouth and I didn't even have to "command" him to swallow it all, not that I was capable of speaking in that moment. Then he got up, laid next to me... and went right to sleep, leaving me lying there and wondering - again - what the fuck was going on with this? I mean, if he wanted to do it, all he had to do was say he wanted to do it and I was beginning to understand that this... stupid thing was his way of saying just that. As I dropped off to sleep, I was wondering if this was going to continue or not.[/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]That my male first cousin would, eventually, get the "urge" to experiment didn't surprise me one bit and more so given how close we were - and so close that everyone thought we were brothers and the closeness didn't end there; I'm 363 days older than he is and we like to kid each other and say that for two whole days, we get to be the same age.

The way he wanted to experiment drove me crazy and it wouldn't be for a whole lot of years before I'd understand why he went about it the way he did. I've mentioned it before but his way was for us to play "master and slave" with me cast in the role of master and "commanding" him to do this or that and with him saying stuff like, "Please, master - don't make me suck your dick!" which, of course, would be what I'd command him to do. The game made me, again, totally insane but, okay, cousin, if that's what makes you feel okay about things...

I remember the first time we wound up naked with each other although I don't quite remember what led up to this. I'm spending the night with him (nothing unusual about that) because we had a judo contest to go to the next day and it was easier to be at his house than my own. We're in bed, talking about the upcoming contest, talking technique and all that along with a bunch of other stuff and in my mind, one moment we're talking and the next we're kinda roughhousing... and then we're both naked and I'm on top of him frotting him (aka dry humping). It just happened; no real intent or my part or, I think, his. It's happening and we were both into it when I feel him kinda shudder under me, saw him blink, and then he said, "I think we should stop."

So we stopped. I had wondered why but I'd figure it out much later: He wanted to stop because he was about to cum. No biggie. We stopped and talked about some more stuff other than what we had just done and I didn't think much about it.[/SIZE][/FONT]

[SIZE=3][FONT=verdana]Okay. She killed him and I really don't want to relive that except to say it was over some really dumb shit. Two nights before he died, we'd just finished doing each other while the girls were in the bedroom having fun with each other. He had told me that he was tired and I understood it; he was now really trying to turn his life around and he even said that being able to have sex with us and the way we were all into it made getting his shit straight a more serious priority. It didn't occur to me until some time after he died what he meant by his being tired - as in tired of living.[/FONT]

[FONT=verdana]Shit. Shit, shit, shit.[/FONT]

[FONT=verdana]I remember him and it's kinda obvious what I remember about him the most. Absolutely the best male lover I've ever had and I've had some good ones over the years. Guiltless, shameless, comfortable, and oh, so familiar. I often wonder if we would have ever gotten into this if he hadn't pestered me into doing it to him. Maybe and maybe not. Moot point. It happened. All of it did. It took a long time for me to admit just how much I loved having sex with him and more so when it didn't seem to bother him as much as it did me. Ha, I'd be pissed with him and say, "Aw, suck my dick!" - and he'd suck my dick and he was very damned good at it but why wouldn't he be since he had plenty of opportunities to practice on me? Was our genetic connection the driving force behind this? It didn't hurt and even if he didn't, I knew what that meant and it was just one of thing things that served to prove to me that what everyone was saying about sex - any kind of sex - wasn't the whole truth of things.

Good thing or very, very bad thing? I'll leave that for you to decide but I'm good with it because not being good with it doesn't make sense and more so when you still can't undo what has already been done. You can't take it back. There's no do-overs. I miss him and not just because he was my brother.[/FONT][/SIZE]

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]The three of them were passed out and sleeping... and I sat there looking at them and feeling some kind of way about what had just happened. Guilty? No, not so much and I was a little miffed with myself because I didn't see any of this coming before the fact - and maybe I should have. Water under the bridge now; you can't undo what's already been done. Was this going to be a one-time thing? One part of me said it would be... but the other parts didn't believe it one bit. All of the cats were out of the bag now.

Shit. The whole situation "broke down" to the point where any of us could be having sex with someone but the highlight of every night was the four of us being together (after the kids were down for the night, of course) and whatever happened just happened. No shame. No guilt. No jealousy. Sex in just another of the many ways it could be done. I remember talking to his girlfriend one day to feel her out about what had been going on and she said she had never felt so free and safe having sex before. She said, "You two obvious have done this before..." and I said we had - how did she feel about that?

"I think it's the way brothers should be; you two get along better when you're having sex than you do when you aren't," she said and accurately so because there were still many times during any part of any day when I wanted to beat him to a pulp for something and just as much as he wanted to give me a beatdown. We didn't fight but we'd argue... and later, well, it was business as usual. After the first week of this sexual insanity, I was sure the newness would eventually wear off... and it didn't. My thoughts continued to kinda fuck with me but I think my thoughts realized that it was trying to fight a losing battle.

This joined intimacy was... different. Immoral all up and down the line... but it was there just the same. Guiltless. Shameless. I'd be eating my wife's pussy while my brother and his lady would be sucking my dick and none of it felt "weird" or unusual even when it did. He'd be chowing down on his lady and my wife and I would be doing a number on his dick and in a contest to see which one of us would make him cum first. No clear winner, by the way, and I thought it was funny that the two of them had the same contest going on as well.

Just good, nasty, immoral as fuck fun. Nothing really unusual going on here, just four people having sex with two of them, both male and related, who shouldn't have been doing it. It just was what it was and like I said, if no one minded, it didn't matter.[/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]When he, his girlfriend and children needed a place to stay, wow - I didn't want to help him one bit because he chose his "life of crime" and other shit that didn't sit well with me but I couldn't, in good conscious, see his lady and their children out on the street.

I remember the night the two of them wanted to have sex with me and my wife. I don't even really remember how we even got on the subject and I'd love to blame it on the four of us being high... but we weren't. I remember it coming up - oh, they were both very eager - and I looked at my wife, who looked at me and shrugged... and then the four of us were naked on the bed, him with his lady, me with mine and somewhere along the line, we switched up but I was used to seeing my wife having sex with someone else so it didn't bother me but, yeah, it looked weird to see her sucking his dick and him eating her and they were both having fun with it. Didn't bother me one bit when he fucked her and my wife had told me, later, he was "okay" then asked me what it was like to have fucked his girlfriend and, yeah, she was pretty good to fuck.

While we were taking a break, my brother was bouncing off the walls; he said, "Did you see the look on "Jean's" (not her real name) face when you slid into her? Man, that shit was so hot!" Yep, it sure was and more so when the girls went at each other during round two. I can't say his girlfriend had any experience in this but if she hadn't, she sure caught on pretty quickly. My brother and I are sitting there looking at our women 69ing the shit out of each other; he looked at me and I looked back - because I saw him looking at me - and he shrugged... and bent over and started sucking my dick.

Now, my wife had known what he and I had been doing but I was sure his girlfriend hadn't known because she was very surprised for a moment then said, "That's what I'm talking about! Everybody gotta get into this good shit!" My wife had just looked at me and smiled before going back to feasting on pussy and I kinda said, "Fuck it..." and got into a 69 with him, something we'd done so many times it wasn't funny.

Neither woman batted an eye when we fucked each other although my wife did agree with his girlfriend when she had said, "They look so good together, don't they?" He's fucking me and the girls were taking turns shoving their pussies into my face and he got the same treatment when I had my dick buried in his ass. So nasty. So goddamned wrong. So much fun.[/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]And even years down the road, the thoughts would fuck with me, whispering shit like, "You knew what y'all was doing - are still doing - is as wrong as anything could be!" Of course I knew it... and I still gave a fuck about that and didn't give a fuck about it.

I think about it now and it doesn't bother me one bit; that little voice grew quiet over the years and decades and like it gave up trying to make me - make us - stop doing something we obviously weren't going to stop doing - and no matter how many times we'd "agree" that this time will be the last time. I'd long since learned that brothers had sex with each other and that us doing it wasn't anything new in the grand scheme of things. I knew there were other brothers who, like me and my brother, never stopped doing it once we became adults and the logic was simple: If you couldn't trust your brother, who could you trust? I even asked myself if I was just making excuses for my behavior with him and despite everything I had learned about this specific thing... and the answer was - and still is - no. We did it because we liked/loved doing it to each other. It was good. Comfortable. Familiar. Easy. And, yes, because it was as wrong as anything gets.[/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT=verdana][SIZE=3]Even after we got caught, it was like since my worst fears hadn't come true, worrying about getting caught again had less significance to it. Our mother scolded the shit out of me and afterward, we picked up right where we'd left off and as if we never got caught. Mom was right: I knew better. I was the oldest and expected to set an example and all that. She said there was no reason or excuse for what I got caught doing... and she was wrong about that but, yeah, also right about it. What I couldn't say to her that the reason why we were doing such an unholy thing was simple: We liked doing it to each other; it doesn't get any simpler than that.

I loved it when we blew each other and filled each other's mouth with cum. I loved feeling his dick pumping spunk into my ass and just as much as he loved feeling me filling his ass with it. He said to me one night, as I was cumming in him, "Damn... that never stops feeling good..." And he was right - it didn't even when my thoughts said that it shouldn't feel good.

"Do you ever feel guilty?" I asked him one time.

"Yeah... and not really," he had replied with a shrug. "Do you?"

"Yeah... and not really," I said, echoing his response and the truth inside me was very real. I loved having sex with him even though we couldn't stand each other. We both looked forward to it and I had to face a truth that said no matter how mad we got or how long it was between seeing each other, if he wanted to do it, I wasn't going to say no. I couldn't and because I knew we'd already put ourselves in jeopardy having sex so to not do it kinda didn't make any sense, that and he was very, very good at having sex with me. So responsive. Still so very excited about us doing it. We were the best at doing it to each other and even said so, not that other guys were slouches and I had realized that it was our brotherly connection that put the sex we'd have over the top for each other.[/SIZE][/FONT]