The Brotherhood

I closed my eyes and surrendered my body to the caress of my brothers. I felt Ethan’s hands tugging at the waistband of my briefs, and I lifted my butt off the mat as he slowly pulled them off, my rigid dick slapping back against my abs as it cleared the waistband. Then his hands were on my cock, one hand wrapping around it while the other fondled my balls. I felt other hands on me and when I opened my eyes briefly, I saw the other four boys reaching to touch and caress me, taking turns as they fondled my dick and nestled my balls with their fingers.

I felt that surge in my groin and I knew I was going to cum. I reached for my dick with my right hand, taking control of it from the others, and instinctively started to jack off. The pleasurable sensation intensified.

"Do it slower, Todd," I heard Steve say. "Make it last." But I knew I couldn’t hold it much longer; I was past the point of no return. I felt my penis swell, totally beyond my control, then it swelled even bigger, and when I thought it couldn’t get any bigger, it swelled even more. I had a sudden image of the head of my cock exploding, and then it did precisely that. With a loud, involuntary grunt, a huge gob of cum spewed out of my pulsing dick and landed on my neck, then another shot forth and landed on my chest, then another, and another, and another… as if time had been suspended so that my spasms might go on forever. When they did finally stop, I was completely and totally spent. I lay motionless with my eyes closed, half asleep, while my buddies cleaned me up with a towel.

That’s all I remember of that night.

Tom and Steve’s prediction was more accurate than they probably expected. By the end of the summer, incredibly, each of the boys of the Brotherhood ejaculated for the first time while wrestling with one of his brothers. Ethan, recipient of my maiden load, was next, unleashing a wild orgasm while wrestling with Jon. Then sure enough, like the passing of a baton, it was Jon’s turn, only it was me he christened with his first seed, shooting a generous load of hot spunk all over me as we wrestled. Serendipity? Not quite. After watching Ethan cream on him, I became determined that the next emission of fluids involving Jon would be with me. When Tom paired us up to wrestle, shortly thereafter, I abandoned any strategy of winning and focused instead on Jon’s erotic pleasure. At every opportunity my hand was between his legs, groping his cock through the cloth of his shorts, squeezing it, even sliding my hand under the waistband of his underwear to feel his naked penis grow stiff in my grasp. I was pushing the limits of wrestling protocol even by the highly sexualized standards of the Brotherhood, but it was having the desired effect. I could feel a different sort of charge, an actual electricity, in Jon’s body. He was more taut, more reactive to my touch. He was breathing heavily from the exertion, as was I, but it was more than just the exertion – he was gasping with pleasure. When we finally stood face to face in the nude, his dick was so swollen and erect that it arched flat up against his abs. Jon’s face was flushed and his eyes looked glazed, and when I flipped him onto his back, his reflexes were slow to engage. But it wasn’t a pin I was looking for. I slid my body down along his and pressed my face against his hot, rigid cock. It throbbed against my face like a live animal, trapped against Jon’s tight belly.

"Todd!" I heard Steve say in rebuke, but I was totally focused on Jon. A whimper, barely audible, escaped from Jon’s lips. I smiled; I had him now. He was just seconds away from his first orgasm. I pulled my face from between his legs and moved up to gaze in his eyes so he’d be looking into mine when he came. Jon wrapped his arms around me and rolled me onto my back, without any resistance from me. "Oh, Todd!" he gasped, as hot jets of cream blasted out from his pulsing cock, fertilizing my chest and belly with his seed. 

Feeling Jon pump his juice all over my naked body got me so excited that I promptly returned the favor and shot a creamy load all over him, mixing my semen with his, our love sealed in sweat and sperm.

Epilogue

Jon and I returned to camp the next year, and the year after that, for as long as our age still qualified us to enroll as campers. And then we became counselors, inheriting the roles Tom and Steve had performed for us. I had always wondered how it was that I came to be chosen for the Brotherhood. Now I learned a startling fact – ALL of the boys at camp were chosen. But not at the same time, and not before the boy in question was judged by his counselors to be ready. As a counselor I learned that it wasn’t that hard, given a little experience, to estimate with reasonable accuracy when a boy reached the threshold of sexual maturity. At that point he was "recruited" – as I had been, with a late-night rousing from bed – and assigned to one of several autonomous and secretive groups of boys to rendezvous for wrestling sessions.

And the purpose of the secrecy? Really it was just a device for creating bonds of intimacy among the boys. By virtue of the secrecy, the nighttime encounters took on the quality of a shared and sacred ritual. It was highly effective with boys this age. And remarkably, the secrecy was rarely violated. Perhaps, too, it was because with so many boys guarding their proud secrets, the possibility that other secrets might be kept from them just wasn’t considered. 

I often have wondered how my life would have turned out, what sort of man I would have become, had I not been initiated by Tom and Steve and my buddies of the Brotherhood – especially Jon, my first great love. It is hard for me to imagine how difficult it must be, for the vast majority of boys, to navigate their way through this critical time in their lives, virtually alone. And I see the result daily in my encounters with men, at work and elsewhere, men who are incapacitated in their ability to love, or their ability to fight – both in the noblest sense of the terms. I find myself wanting to reach back into their boyhoods, to put my hand gently on their young shoulders and rouse them sleepy-eyed from bed, a quieting finger to my lips, and then, when the sacred ritual of secrecy sinks in and takes hold, to whisper to them:

Come with me.