Chapter 6 Tommy
TOMMY
I roll over in my bed and groan in defeat. My dick is hard, bordering on painful, and I have no clue why, considering I masturbate once a day to avoid this problem.
Zack says it’s because my biological clock or whatever is ticking and I need to get laid.
Well, technically I need to lose my virginity first, then get laid. You would think, being a fucking Sterling, that I would be swimming in pussy, but the truth isn’t that pretty.
It’s not that I don’t have offers. Plenty of women have offered to fuck me.
But I don’t want just a random fuck for my first time, and most of those girls aren’t exactly my type.
Zack says I’m being picky, but Chloe says I should be picky.
Honestly, the two of them can never agree on anything, which is why I don’t understand how they make their relationship work, but they do.
And maybe I admire them for it too. Because I know if two people like Zack and Chloe—my best friends—can somehow find a way to be happy together, there’s hope for me. Someday.
Call me crazy, but I want my first time with a woman to mean something. I want it to be with someone special.
I rub my eyes, my cock twitching with need. I need to piss. I push myself out of bed and head down the hall to the bathroom, trying to acclimate to my surroundings. The TV is blaring, so I know my brothers must be home from their night out.
My two older brothers, Russell and Freddie, play for the Lions.
Their team is like a family—or so they say.
So in between their travel games and stuff, they’re always going out.
For someone’s birthday or some celebration or whatever, or sometimes just…
to go pick up girls and do what most single guys do.
Except, the only one in this house who actually gets any action is Russ. Freddie insists he doesn’t want a girlfriend, that he’s fine by himself. He has hockey, his family…
I wish I could say I felt the same, but I don’t.
Everyone assumes the same about me—that I’d prefer to be alone, because apparently the fact I’m autistic means I’m automatically cut out of the sex and relationship narrative.
Which is bullshit.
I want to have a girlfriend.
I want to have sex—partly because I feel like a damn alien for being a twenty-three-year-old virgin, and partly because I just want to see what all the fuss is about.
Masturbating is a chore in itself. If I don’t do it routinely, I end up hard at the most inopportune times. Like at a fucking family picnic with my brother’s girlfriend and her perfect tits staring me right in the face as they practically spill out of her damn top.
I groan, not wanting to think about Nora—my oldest brother Brett’s girlfriend.
Up until I met the woman, I’d even started to wonder if I was asexual.
I hadn’t felt desire for any of the girls my age at school, and porn wasn’t exactly thrilling to watch.
It just looked…messy. Everyone all oiled up and covered in cum, and all the overexaggerated moaning and stuff. Gaping holes and…just…gross.
Though it’s a necessary evil for me, I guess.
I have to stimulate my brain first, before I can stimulate my dick.
And even then, it takes forever. I’d rather spend my time doing something productive—like going to the gym or hanging out with Zack and Chloe or doing an intense Lego build—than forcing myself to come.
But everything changed when Brett brought Nora home to meet all of us.
I’d never just looked at a woman and gotten hard before, so I thought it was just a fluke. But as Nora started to come around more—even when Brett was out of town for games—I found it harder and harder to try and control my dick.
I found myself stealing glances of her tits, because my God, she has perfect tits—big, swollen, round tits that I’ve often fantasized about, even though I know I shouldn’t.
I know it’s not her fault that they’re the size they are.
Chloe’s a C-cup, and she says she has trouble finding clothes that fit her chest, so I can only imagine Nora has the same issue, though I have no clue what her bra size is.
I tried to look up references once, but didn’t get much help.
Then there’s her curves. Her wide hips. Her round ass. Her lips.
Family gatherings got real awkward, real fast, when I found myself constantly popping boners and having to excuse myself to take care of business.
Of course, Zack figured out what was going on and forced me to open up to him about it—which I felt weird about at first, but then again, it’s not like I could have gone to my brothers about this. Or…about sex in general.
It’s a touchy subject for me, and I know how most guys would react, and they’re my brothers. I don’t need them knowing about my weird dick problems or my lack of experience and think I’m more of a loser than I already am.
I slide my hand over my cock, wincing when I do because fuck, it’s sensitive right now. I need to pee and then maybe jack off if that doesn’t solve the problem, which is already making me anxious. It takes so long to get there.
I know that’s not normal. Zack says it’s because I’m too in my head. That I need to focus on what feels good, instead of thinking about everything else.
But how the hell does one turn their brain off to not think? Do people just not think at all when they have sex? How does that work? How do you just…not think?
I get five feet down the hall when I hear a female’s voice.
“Rush…” Her voice is heavy, thick with desire.
I groan, not wanting to look or interrupt another one of Rush’s rendezvous.
Not that it happens frequently or anything, because it hasn’t happened in over a year, actually, but I really don’t want to see my brother pounding some girl on the couch at one thirty in the morning. Some things a guy could just do without the knowledge of.
Ignorance is totally bliss when it comes to my brother and sex.
I shiver at the thought. I tell myself I’ll keep my head down and sneak by, that I won’t look because I don’t need to see that, but then as I take a step forward, I get a full view of who that familiar, warm voice belongs to.
“Nora…” Rush’s voice is thick and dark, and I stop dead in my tracks against the shadowed wall.
There, mere feet away from me, is Nora. My brother’s girlfriend with…
Rush. My other brother.
She leans forward, kissing him and grabbing him by the neck. I’ve seen her kiss Brett before, but never like that.
My cock twitches, and I bite my lip. I absentmindedly grab my dick, squeezing hard to try and kill this damn erection. Because I think I know exactly why I was hard when I woke up just now. I must’ve heard them in my sleep, or maybe my body just knew she was here.
The only woman who’s ever made me feel anything.
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about Nora in this very scenario. Poised beneath me. Giving myself to her—no, letting her take what I wouldn’t give to just anyone else.
I know it’s fucked up to think about your brother’s girlfriend. But it’s another thing entirely to kiss and touch your brother’s girlfriend, which is exactly what Russ is doing right now.
His hands are in her hair. His mouth is on hers.
They sound drunk.
From this angle, I can see he’s still clothed, though, and for that I’m thankful. If his bare ass was on display right now, I don’t think I could take it.
But it’s not him I can’t take my eyes off of.
It’s Nora.
Perfect, wonderful Nora.
All I’ve ever known her to be was sweet and charming.
Every time I saw her, she’d try to talk to me.
Ask me about school or my community games, and every time, even though I wanted to stay and actually talk, I had to excuse myself because after about five minutes alone with Nora, my dick would be screaming at me.
“Fuck, Nora, you’re going to make me come if you keep doing that,” Russ says. “In my pants.”
Her shoulder moves, and I realize she’s touching him. Probably stroking his cock.
Oh, fuck.
My own presses against the inside of my boxers, my cockhead already slipping through the slit of my boxers from the growth alone.
I move my hand, if only to shove my cock back in my boxers before they notice me, but the minute I touch my cockhead, I realize how wet I am. My cockhead is soaked with precum.
Fuck.
I suck in a breath as panic hits. I need to get out of here. I need to just…sprint to the fucking bathroom and piss and maybe splash some cold water on my face or my dick and just…forget about all of this.
I grimace at my touch because fuck, I feel so close already, I don’t know if I’m going to make it.
I slide down the wall to the ground as panic overtakes me. I pull my knees up and press my legs together, forcing my eyes closed. At least down here, they can’t see me.
But I can still hear them.
“You want me to make you come, Nora?” Russ’s voice sounds different. I’ve never heard him sound like this before.
“Yes,” Nora breathes, and I try to squeeze my legs tighter. But the pressure against my cock does nothing to help matters. I turn over on my knees, my arms hugging myself as I try to focus on not coming.
I’ve never felt like this before.
Even when I masturbate, I’ve never felt the urge like this.
I’m acutely aware of how full my balls feel right now and how my cock is twitching, how I’m leaking precum all over my boxers and my thighs.
And I’m not even touching myself! The pressure as I squeeze my cock between my thighs does nothing to quell my desire. I’m so hard, it hurts.
Fuck, I’m going to come!
“Come for me, baby,” Russ demands, and then I hear Nora’s cry, and I just…know.
I’ll never be able to erase this from my mind. Ever.
I have half a moment to get my hand around my cock before I come all over the floor. Hard. I clench my teeth, fighting back the urge to moan as I fill my hand with my cum.
Oh, fuck.
Shame and guilt blanket me as I come, panic mixing in with the shame. My stomach twists with nausea because I know this is so fucked up on so many levels.