A coming of age story

Some people find the love of their life, and are lucky when that person turns out to be their permanent soulmate. For many people, it doesn’t turn out that way, and they go through life with the conflicting emotions of regret and thankfulness that they, at least, had that unforgettable brief time.

And then there is our first love. That special someone always occupies a warm place in our hearts for the rest of our lives. And what if that first love is also the love of our life? And what if that is fleeting? That is the meaning of tragedy.

That is all a speculation…a preamble to my story.

Background: I was christened with my mother’s maiden name, Montague, and no other. My father refused to call me Monty, so I was called Tag, taken from the middle. For years, I said when I was old enough I was going to have it legally changed, but now I’m kind of proud of it. My mother died when I was six. She had been seriously ill for the last year of her life, so I was not much a part of it during that time. As a result, I barely remember her.

My father brought me up as a single dad, and it must have been rough, but I wasn’t aware of any problems. He protected me well, and I had a happy youth. When I was fourteen he met a woman and fell back in love. Geena was a wonderful person, and I was glad to be around her. I felt no jealousy or betrayal when a year later my dad said he wanted to marry her.

She had an eighteen-year-old son who was away at a boarding school. It actually was some sort of military academy, and he only came home for Christmas and spring break and summer vacations, so I had yet to meet him. I thought it would be interesting to have an older brother.

When I was smaller I had at times thought it would be fun to have a brother to grow up with. Someone to share adventures and secrets, to play games and celebrate holidays. It was too late for those things, but it still could be interesting.

The wedding took place the end of April, and Geena moved in with us. After Mother had died Dad hadn’t sold the house even though it was much too big for two people. It had been built for an expanding family, but it provided them with privacy and me with room to grow. Reese came home to his new family in June. Reese was handsome, not in a cookie-cutter way, but in his own unique way – but decidedly handsome.

Reese was an exceptionally down-to-earth guy. He had complete faith in his mother, and if she had chosen my father to marry, then he was the right man and he was happy for her. If I was a part of the package, then I was his brother. He arrived and moved in with no reservations, ready to be part of a blended family.

The first weeks were devoted to us getting to know each other and becoming comfortable in each other’s presence. He was sharp, witty, generous and charming. From the first moment I was smitten, and as the summer progressed my fascination with my new step-brother intensified.

Summer came to an end, and Reese returned to the academy. I entered my first year of high school, but I was bereft. Reese was in my thoughts at all times. I wondered what he was doing, what his life was like if he ever thought about me. I ached as the days crept by toward Christmas. Oh, I had a life; I kept up my school work, and I joined in both school and after-school activities, but I wanted Reese back. I turned sixteen, and December did finally arrive.

The academy closed down for three full weeks, and Reese got home ten days before Christmas. I was full of questions about everything he had done since we had last been together. Things that were trivial to him took on great importance, and I’m afraid I made a nuisance of myself, constantly pumping him for information and wanting to occupy all his time.

He had friends from his earlier school days that he kept in touch with, and I was disappointed when he went to do something with one of them. But he never tried to shut me out or slough me off. He was attentive and suggested things we could do together, and I agreed to each suggestion.

The holiday season ended and he was gone again, and I returned to my inwardly frustrated musings. Things continued to evolve. It seemed I had matured overnight, or from the first time I had seen Reese eight months ago until now. From not being aware I was attracted to boys to an almost obsession with Reese.

My thoughts became more of a physical nature. Yes, there had always been a physical attraction…my first description of Reese to you was he was handsome. But now, instead of being abstract, they were concentrated on the flesh.

Spring break came, and Reese was real again. I noted the curve of his neck into his shoulder, the smooth inside of his elbow, the small creases at his armpit where his arm joined his chest.

Having lived for the last four years at a boy’s school where things like private showers didn’t exist, he was comfortable with his body and nudity.

But only days after this springtime arrival he said to me once while dressing, “I’d like a little privacy,” and a few days later, “Tag, it’s not polite to stare.”

And then he began turning his back to me when he was naked and I was in his room, as I usually was. I had to devise ways to “accidently” walk in on him to see him undressed. I needn’t add that he was as beautiful from the neck down as he was from the neck up. I was amazed at the size of his dick (a word I had just become comfortable with). It was at least twice as long as mine, soft. I could only imagine how it looked hard.

The two weeks flew by and Reese left, but this time, it wasn’t so bad because I knew in June he’d be home to stay. Or so I thought.

During those two months, Reese had his nineteenth birthday, and I accepted the fact I was gay. I knew all about gay. After all, there were a lot of gay characters on TV, mostly in situation comedies. I didn’t identify with them too much, but they mentioned their boyfriends, and that’s what I had in my imagination. What they didn’t do was explore the sexual side of it. I started doing research, in the limited way I could. Now sex is what occupied me. Finesse is what evaded me.

It was only a couple days after Reese was home, this time with all his possessions, when we were sitting side by side on the sofa playing one of my video games.

He, of course, beat me and asked, “Want to try again?”

I said, “No, you always win,” which wasn’t really true. Sometimes he let me win.

We sat there a minute, and then I put my hand on his crotch.

He flinched and grabbed my hand, saying, “Don’t do that Tag.”

I asked, “Why?”

He shrugged, “It’s not right.”

I repeated, “Why?”

He raised his hands. “For lots of reasons.”

“I’m gay,” I said.

He smiled. “I know, but I’m not.”

I was confused. “How did you know?”

He chuckled. “Well, you kind of tipped me off when I was home Easter. You couldn’t stop looking at my cock.”

I was shocked at him using that word but found it exciting at the same time.

I quickly put my hand on his crotch again and he forcefully grabbed it and pulled it away, but didn’t let it go this time.

“NO! I said don’t do that.”

I simply said, “But I want it. Why don’t you want me to?”

He said, “I said for a lot of reasons. I can think of three right off the top of my head.”

“Like what?” I asked.

This was the closest I’d seen him to anger, but it was more like exasperation. “Well, in no special order, the age difference. You’re sixteen and I’m nineteen.”

I said, “So?”

“It's a big difference. Two, you're my brother.”

I quietly interjected, “Step-brother.”

“Okay, step-brother, but brother’s still in there. And three, I’m not gay. I’m straight. I like girls.”

I sat morosely looking at the floor.

He said, “Look, Tag, I understand some of this. A lot goes on at a boys’ school. A lot of people don’t talk about. A lot of people don’t know about. Maybe you need to talk to somebody. I’m fine with who you are. You’re you, and I accept that. But I have to be me.”

He didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes.

“Look, I don’t know how to explain it. I’m not making sense. Someone else can explain it better. But I’m here for you. You’re still my brother…step-brother.”

He squeezed the back of my neck, and got up and went outside.

I didn’t talk to anybody. I didn’t know who I could talk to, and quickly decided I didn’t want to talk to anybody. I didn’t need to. Everything seemed normal, but things had started changing, so subtly, at first, I didn’t see it.

I’m not even exactly sure when they started changing. When I did something – anything – well, Reese patted me on the back. The pats became back rubbing. When we walked together he’d drape his arm across my shoulders.

The congratulations became hugs. Or something funny would lead to him grabbing me, wrestling with me, capturing me, encapsulating me in his embrace.

One day I had tried something badly, and he told me he would teach me how to make different kinds of knots for different uses. The next day we were home alone and I suggested he do that, and he said OK, but then announced he was going to take a shower. I waited, but he didn’t come back. I went to see what had happened, and when I got to his room the door was open. I walked in and he was half-reclining on the bed, flipping through a magazine.

He was naked, and his dick, or cock, was elongated. He didn’t look up at me, but he knew I was there. I opened my mouth to speak, and then closed it. I stepped over to the bed and sat down next to him. He still didn’t acknowledge my presence. I moved my eyes from his face down to his dick. It was firm but still flexible. I laid my hand on it and glanced back up at Reese. He didn’t move. I wrapped my hand around his dick and felt it grow in my fist. The magazine slipped from Reese’s hand and fell to the floor.

This is what the past year had been leading up to. Was I ready for it? All thoughts had left my head and I was only concentrating on Reese’s cock. I was filled with desire. I leaned down and placed my lips against the tip of his cock where the piss came out and slowly parted them, then my teeth so my tongue was touching it.

I continued slowly opening my mouth and sliding down, feeling the incredible smoothness of the head on my tongue. I could never have imagined how remarkable it felt to have his cock in my mouth. I was aware of Reese emitting a gasp and falling back on the bed. He grabbed my head with both hands, and I feared he was going to try to make me stop, but he didn’t.

He pulled my head up, but only a few inches and then urged me back down. I went up and down, which seemed the only logical thing to do, but he kept his hands on my head, “helping” me. It made him a part of it. His breathing grew harder and faster and he made me go up and down faster. Then he held me still and his cock erupted cum into my eager mouth. Without warning, my dick also shot out cum into my briefs.

I swallowed Reese’s cum and didn’t want to take my mouth off his cock, but he pulled my head up. I looked up at him and he was looking at me with no discernible expression.

He rolled over onto his stomach and I heard him say, “I’m straight.”

I got up and went to my own room and relived every moment, over and over. That evening everything seemed normal, and the days following. By normal I mean how things had been before the day I first touched his crotch. There were no more pats on the back, no more wrestling, no more hugs. But things weren’t bad.

It was about ten days later, or maybe fewer, when I was sitting on Reese’s bed. He was taking a shower. He came from the bath with a towel wrapped around his waist. When he walked into the room he looked at me, reached back and closed the door behind him and removed the towel.

He walked over to the bed, stood there in front of me for a moment and then took another step forward and placing a hand on my head pushed his cock and balls against my face. We remained like that for seconds and I felt his cock stirring. He moved back and with his other hand gripped his cock and rubbed it over my lips. I opened my mouth and he put it in.

This time, he held my head and moved his hips back and forth. I grasped the cheeks of his ass and I “helped” him fuck my mouth. When his breathing increased I had to let go of his ass and put my hand on his pelvis to prevent him from shoving his cock too far down my throat in his passion. When he came he wrapped both arms around my head and bent his body over me. It made it difficult to swallow, but I managed. When he recovered he stepped back, removing his now soft dick from my mouth. And this time was different in another respect.

He tousled my hair and said, “Thanks. You OK?”

I just smiled at him and tried to grab his dick, but he laughed and jumped out of the way.

He laughed again and said, “I’m not gay,” and jumped on top of me and wrestled with me.

I was no match, wrestling with a naked Reese. It only lasted for a minute, but when I went to my room to jack off, I thought about that more than I did the sucking.

A few days passed and one night I was going to bed. As I walked down the hall Reese came out of his room and grabbed me in a choke-hold.

I grabbed his dick and he said, “Aha, I thought that’s what you wanted,” and pulled me into his room.

Nothing was said, but we both stripped and got on the bed. He put two pillows under his head and watched me go down on his cock, working it from soft to hard and then sucking it. Everything was both more relaxed and mutual than the two times before.

He turned on his side and began gently fucking my mouth and whispered, “Why don’t you cum too?”

I jacked my dick while I sucked his cock. I came first, shooting onto his leg, but he didn’t seem to notice, or care. He increased his speed and soon filled my mouth with the cum I loved.

When it was over he pulled me up and we talked for a while, then he gave me a quick kiss and said, “Get out of here and let me get some sleep.”

Again a few days went by with nothing different in our daily family routines. I don’t know what time it was, but I was asleep when he came into my room and gently shook me, saying, “Tag, wake up.”

He pulled back the covers, untied my pajama bottoms and pulled them off and then my T-shirt. I was awake by then and by the nightlight saw he was naked. He got in bed with me and pulled the covers up.

Still groggy with sleep, I started to slide down under the sheet to find his cock, but he whispered, “No, not tonight. Roll over the other way.”

I didn’t question him but turned my back to him. His cock was hard, and he had already put a condom and lubricant on it.

I instinctively knew what was about to happen, and even in my groggy state expected it to hurt. Maybe because I was still half-conscious and relaxed, or because I was waiting for the pain, when he pushed his cock in it didn’t hurt more than a twinge. He entered me slowly and gently, pushing only as hard as was necessary to get my asshole to open and accept its gift.

I was now fully awake and felt a sudden warmth fill my body as Reese’s cock filled my ass. He was all the way in and I could feel his body pressing against mine. He pulled partially out and then easily went back in.

He whispered in my ear, “Some of the guys at school used to do this. I hope you like it.”

I turned my head to tell him, yes and our lips met. He kissed me and began fucking me smoothly, wrapping...