talesfromunderthemattress: a4f101: Best Men “Weddings, man, shit,” Miller said, flopping
talesfromunderthemattress: a4f101: Best Men “Weddings, man, shit,” Miller said, flopping down on the edge of the bed with a sigh as he unknotted his tie. “You’re telling me,” I said, waving the brown-bagged bottle at him. “You got anything to mix this with?” “Yeah, there’s Coke and ginger in the fridge,” he said. Christa’s parents were pretty churchy, and also kind of cheap, so the rehearsal dinner had been dry, both in the alcohol-free and the entertainment sense. We’d snuck out before the dessert plates had been cleared and down to the liquor store for some relief. There wasn’t much else to do around here except swim in the pool, but I needed a fucking drink before all that. I poured us a couple of fingers of bourbon, topped them off with ginger ale, and handed Miller his. “Well, here’s to Bryson, god rest his soul,” I chuckled. “May they be fruitful and multiply,” Miller grinned, perfectly imitating Christa’s dorky dad. We laughed, clinked glasses and took a satisfying slug of liquor. I was unknotting my tie when I saw Miller giving me that look, that twinkle in his eye, that crooked grin. He reached over and grabbed the end of my tie, pulling me closer as I tried not to slop my drink on his hotel room carpet. “I seem to remember your wedding being a pretty fun affair,” he said, as I stepped between the spread thickness of his big thighs, letting him reach up to undo my tie with his thick fingers and pull it free. “Ought to have been, as much as it cost,” I chuckled, letting him continue to undo the top buttons on my shirt as I steadied myself on his big shoulder, squeezing there. Still big and powerful, built like the footballer he used to be. We all were, Bryson a little trimmer and leaner than us two, even though we’d all left that stuff behind long ago. There were other things we probably should have left behind long ago, and this was one of them, the easy, natural way Miller’s head tilted up and mine tilted down, leaning in to meet in a nice firm kiss, the smoke of the bourbon fresh on our tongues as it deepened. I slipped my hand round the back of his thick neck as I fed him some more tongue, the both of us carefully balancing our drinks as I crouched down a little to straddle his beefy thigh so we could take it deeper. Miller’s deep grunt told me how ready he was for this… had probably been thinking of it all day, since we’d woken up tangled naked in the sheets of my room. I sure had. His knee had kept intentionally bumping, rubbing against mine all through that long, boring dinner tonight, and it was all I could do to get my cock to simmer down before we got up to leave. Bryson had given us a knowing, yet stricken save me! look when he saw us make our exit. He knew where we were headed, what we were going to do. Knew very well. But hey, he was getting married tomorrow, not us, so tonight was our time. I drained off my first drink and set to work on Miller’s shirt, yanking it open and off his big shoulders, revealing his beefy ex-jock torso swelling under his undershirt. Squeezed his hefty pecs with an appreciative growl as he moaned back, feeling his big, sensitive nips stiffen, then fed him my tongue again. No need to hide our hardons now, and we ground our bulges against each other wherever we could while we made out and half-clumsily undressed each other. I made quick work of his belt, then his button and fly, and there he was, jutting hard in his boxer briefs for me to palm slowly, teasingly, making the big guy growl and hunch his hips up into my hand as he sucked on my tongue. His own hands worked quickly on my belt and trousers, and soon I was stepping out of them, presenting my own big undies bulge to him. His mouth attacked it, soaking the cotton through as he mauled the length of me, his big thick tongue running up and down the outline, before clamping his lips round the mound of the tip and sucking. I let him tease me like that for a little bit, before pushing his face off, then hooking my underwear down under my big balls. He was three years older, but I had the bigger dick, something I’d been endlessly proud of since we were teenagers. Given what a total cockhound my big brother was, he was kind of proud of my piece too. And he had nothing at all to be ashamed of himself. “Quit fuckin’ around and get on that thing, big bro,” I growled, pushing his head back down on it. His mouth was already opening hungrily, tongue out, and I sank my length into the warm, suckling, tongue-swirling wetness of his talented maw. Nobody - not my buds in college, not my old baseball coach, not even my wife - could work me over the way Miller did, though Bryson came a close second. If he wasn’t getting married tomorrow, I’d have the two of them working my joint over together. The idea of that, of standing beside Bryson tomorrow afternoon as his best man, a load of my cum working its way through his intestines, gave me a little shiver. Hell, Miller had stood beside me three years ago with two loads of my cum in him, and the thought of that had definitely inspired me that night when I fucked Ashley in our honeymoon bed. But tonight was about us. Bro time. The wedding had brought us together from opposite sides of the country, and we were making the most of it. With a couple of pauses to strip off the last stitches of our clothing, we worked our way onto the bed, and I slowly fed the long, thick length of my cock down Miller’s talented, eager throat. That old familiar feeling, better than ever as his throat muscles worked around my shaft hungrily. I reached behind me and found his own big dick, throbbing hard and wet already, and began a slow, appreciative stroke on it. That just made him grunt and work harder on me, like I knew it would, and he even threw in a light humming action that vibrated all the way down the length of my cock, into my balls, and made my prostate buzz. Fucker was gonna have me blasting in no time, but I had every confidence I had plenty more to give him tonight. We had all night, nothing much else to do, and I’d missed my big brother very much. I planned to show him. I was about ready to relax and let my balls fire off that first load, so we could get to work on the second, when I heard the light tapping on the room door. Miller paused, and we stared at each other questioningly. “You expecting somebody?” I panted. “Mm-mm,” he hummed, frowning, buzzing my balls again. I sighed, pushed up off him, and out of him, with a long, wet slurp. Chuckled at the sight of the drool on his chin as he wiped it up and went for another sip on his drink. I grabbed the robe from the little hall closet, checked the peephole, and laughed. Opened the door. Bryson stood there, a cute little blush on his hopeful-looking face. “Hey, Seb, I -” he started, before I grabbed him and hauled him inside. He didn’t look at all surprised to see Miller reclining big and naked and lightly sweaty on the hotel bed, drink in one hand, half-hard cock in the other. Or me, just as big and naked and sweaty, my full-hard cock shiny with spit. Miller’s spit. Bryson knew the score, knew it very well. “Looks like somebody else managed to sneak out of the dinner too, bro,” I said, dropping the robe on the floor and fixing the kid a drink. “Well hey, baby brother,” Miller grinned, sitting up. “Didn’t think you’d be joining us tonight.” “Well, I, uh…” Bryson stammered, but Miler was already reaching for his belt, while I pressed a drink into his hand and my lips to his neck, reaching round him to start undoing his tie and shirt. I could already feel the kid relaxing - well, he was 25, not a kid, but you know how it is, they’re always your kid brother. “I was just thinking about you, little bro,” I murmured into his ear as I nuzzled it and undid the last of his buttons. “You were?” he said with that cute, boyish smile of his, before leaning in to meet my lips in a deep, searching kiss. Miller got his pants down and off, and I reached down to find the rapidly growing bulge in his little Calvins. Palmed it like I did Miller’s. Pressed my hard cock into those high, tight, mouth-wateringly round glutes of his as he practically purred into my mouth. Christa was a lucky little bitch, but I was pretty sure she’d never make Bry feel as good as we did. “You bet I was, baby brother,” I grinned, pressing him down to his knees, Miller joining him on the floor, the both of them reaching for my big, hard dick. They leaned in and kissed each other, hard and wet and hungry, trading tongues before turning their attention to the throbbing head of my cock. Yeah, it was pretty much exactly as I’d pictured. Been too long since we’d done this. Shit… now that gay marriage was legal, maybe we’d have to lean on Miller a little bit to settle down, so we could have another chance at a weekend like this. In the meantime… More stories like this at http://a4f101.tumblr.com/tagged/story+time https://talesfromunderthemattress.tumblr.com/tagged/story+timeAnother favorite. I just dig the whole vibe of this one. -- source link