I had walked in on him masturbating.

It hadn’t been on purpose, of course; exactly the opposite. Mrs Fentiman, my boyfriend’s mother, had asked me to tell Trent’s younger brother that he had to go out at three-thirty to water the cows. I’m sure I was actually reminding him, but still.

‘Roger!’ I’d called, knocking loudly on his bedroom door, where I’d seen him go only a few minutes before. Trent was downstairs, playing video games with his cousin, who’d come over for the day.

‘Yes?’ came Roger’s voice. He was usually very soft-spoken and quiet, a gentle soul, and watched and listened more than spoke or did. His liquid brown eyes had a quiet but intense intelligence in them. I could hear his shyness even now; he’d always felt a little intimidated by me, I think.

I took his answer as assent--that I could come into his bedroom--and did, only to turn and come face to face with my almost brother-in-law stretched out on his bed, the curtains drawn, with his hand wrapped around his very thick, very hard, and very large cock.

A sudden, unexpected burst of arousal shot through me at the very sight of it, but I felt my cheeks redden a little as well. Roger looked absolutely stunned, and his hand had abruptly stopped mid-stroke.

‘I’m--I’m so sorry,’ I choked out. I looked away, at the floor, as if it were suddenly a very fascinating and very rare creature. ‘I should have waited for you to reply. Sorry.’ I began to shuffle out, but stopped when I realized I hadn’t delivered my message. ‘Oh--your mum wanted me to remind you you’ve got to water the cows at half three.’

My eyes, despite the logical part of my mind’s urging NOT to, fell back onto his hand, still exactly where it had been. He wasn’t quite naked, but certainly pants-less, and he’d pulled up his shirt enough that it had exposed a flat, toned expanse of pale stomach, dotted with a few moles around his belly button, like a small faery-ring.

I found myself, VERY irrationally, going to the door and, instead of leaving by it, closing it softly, and coming back to his bed. Roger was staring at me with wide, frightened eyes, like a deer in the headlights.

Before closing the door, I had seen a glistening drop of pre-cum on the head of his cock, which was exposed, and had the very, very bad and very, very titillating desire to suck it off. Pre-cum was probably one of the best things about fellatio, other than the gratifying moans a man makes when your mouth is stuffed full of his cock, and the end, when his seed goes down your throat. Oh, hell, all of it was the best.

‘Mary?’ Roger’s voice was tremulous, and several octaves higher than his usual deep grumble. For all he looked like Trent, and they both looked like their mother, his voice had always been very different. ‘What--what are you doing?’

I took a deep breath.

‘Well, I was very rude,’ I said, reasonably, sounding apologetic. ‘And I don’t want you to feel as though I’ll tell anyone what I saw you doing, or make it awkward, or wrong, or anything, so I just want to give you some assurance I won’t tell anyone.’

He stared at me. ‘How are you going to do that?’ He asked, chocolate eyes both curious and still fearful.

‘I’m going to give you something I wouldn’t want other people to know, either.’

He still didn’t seem to comprehend this, so I knelt beside his bed and very gently nudged his hand away from his cock. He moved his hand away very reluctantly, but his eyes widened when I leant over and gently kissed the soft skin of his shaft, feeling the warmth and hardness of his erection beneath his foreskin.

I looked to him for a response. He was looking at me with very large eyes, but didn’t say anything, so I gently closed my fist around his penis and turned it towards me, doing as I had so irrationally wanted to do, and gently licked the iridescent drop of pre-ejaculate from the tip of his cock, savouring the taste of it on my tongue before taking him into my mouth.

He made an odd noise, somewhere between choking and moaning, and his hips rose off the bed. His cock tasted wonderful. It was glorious to have one in my mouth. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done this. When Trent and I were intimate recently, it was always that he wanted to be between my thighs, rutting away passionately. He was very good at it, too; we’d been doing it for years, had even lost our virginities together, and were very accomplished lovers at this point. He could make me cum nearly immediately with a practised, deep thrusting turn of the hips, and never left me unsatisfied. In fact, we’d done it before his cousin had arrived ... but. My current attentions were focused on Roger, and Roger only. I could feel him in my mouth, and I wanted that thick prick to split my pussy apart, to slide into the hot moisture there, and touch my deepest places, and for his seed to join his brother’s inside me, jostling about for dominance in my womb.

Even so, I pulled away, smiling, willing my legs not to tremble and my desire not to show on my face. I wiped my mouth and stood.

‘There. Now ... you’ve got something against me, too, so you know I won’t tell anyone. By the by, masturbating is perfectly natural and wonderful, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.’

I had almost made it to the door when I heard his soft voice behind me.

‘I think about you,’ he said. ‘When I do it.’

I turned around, surprised. ‘What?’ I said, in disbelief.

‘Yes.’ He was speaking quickly now. ‘Sometimes I think about you and Trent. I’ve seen you doing it; I’ve watched you sometimes, and heard you moan.’ He was reddening at that confession, but went on, his words nearly stumbling over themselves. ‘And sometimes, you’re with me. Sometimes I imagine you taking my virginity, or ... or doing what you just did. I was thinking about you when you came in.’ His eyes were on mine, frank and nervous.

I couldn’t help it; I was becoming even more aroused than simply sucking on his cock had made me.

‘What ... what were you thinking?’ I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

He swallowed visibly, and almost looked away, but kept my eye. ‘I was thinking about you on your back,’ he said, ‘and getting between your thighs and sticking my cock ... and sticking my cock inside you. And rubbing you, while I pushed into you, so you moaned even more and squeezed around my cock, and I would make you cum... ‘ Roger’s cheeks were a deep crimson.