House Reunion
by Wrestlr
7.
This time, Erik was back in charge.
Jake wasn’t careful. He never did get around to making Erik reverse the can’t talk rule, if he ever intended to. And he forgot to guard the crystal. He was used to dealing with Mark, who’s a lot less devious than Erik. Jake forgot that hypnosis gave us a brief trance, a period of compulsion, and then we were back to whatever passed for normal. Jake left Dad’s crystal unattended, and Erik grabbed it, and—bam!—Erik’s back in change.
Erik wore the crystal around his neck again, after a knot to fix the clipped cord. I knew this because I’d been looking at it just moments before, and then he said ... and now I was blinking and snapping out of it ...
I found myself on the couch, still wearing the blue swimsuit Jake’d put me in hours before, playing DeathCar 9000 against Erik again. In front of us, on the carpet between the couch and the screen, Dad and Mark and Jake, all naked, writhed in slow motion, one ball of flesh, intent on enjoying each other.
I forced my attention up from the carpet tableau and back to the screen. I was there to play DeathCar 9000. That’s what Erik wanted. This time, without the handicap of taking off from Dad, I was holding my own, even starting to pull ahead. But something was different. I could tell.
I headed my car through the urban cityscape. The cops had a roadblock ahead. Okay, I knew how to handle this—I’d have to abandon my car and race on foot down one of these side streets until I found another I could steal to continue the race. I could do this.
Every time I moved my body, something ... nudged me in my ass, like something was gently fucking me. I threw a quick scowl at Erik before turning my attention back to the game.
“What’s that?” Erik said, mimicking Jake’s drawl. “Y’all says there’s somethin’ up yer butt?” He laughed. “Like it? Feel good? That’s a butt-plug from Jake’s bag of toys. He’s got a lot of toys. I don’t even know what half that shit’s for! Don’t worry; I started you off on the baby size butt-plug. But just wait”—he waggled a giant floppy dildo at me, purple, at least fourteen inches long and as thick as my arm—“until you see what I’m planning for later!”
My ass clamped just from the thought, only to be reminded of the butt-plug jammed up inside it.
“Dude!” Erik cackled. “You should see your face! Don’t worry—this baby would leave your ass looking like a tunnel, and I kinda like it the way it is, nice and tight.”
I scowled at him again and forced my attention back to the screen. My game avatar was out of the car and running to the left. Naked again? What the hell was Erik doing? Was this supposed to distract me? Okay, I could handle a naked avatar. It was all in my head, I told myself; just Erik making me see the avatar naked, since I knew the game didn’t give players an option to change the avatars’ appearance. I could handle this. Dodge the homeless panhandlers. Jump the pile of trash blocking the sidewalk. Jump the baby stroller. Fake right to fool the barking dog, then go left. Turn right onto the next major road. Three candidate cars popped onscreen, but I still had to sprint a ways to reach the first one. And every time my torso moved, I felt that intrusion in my ass poking around after my prostate.
Fucking hell! Bullets? How the hell had Erik gotten around behind me? More of those cock-and-balls bullets he’d made me see before came flying by. And shit!—I was out in the open with no cover. I made my avatar dive behind the utility pole. Fuck! Some of the bullets hit my avatar, and my health points dropped.
But more than that, I felt each impact—each cock-and-balls bullet that hit my avatar sent this tingle through my real-world cock and balls. Fuck! Three more bullets hit, and I was so fucking horny! Was Erik trying to distract me? Fucking hell, I was so fucking horny! As my avatar went down under a hail of cock-and-balls bullets and died, I threw aside the game controller, and that made the butt-plug in my ass kick off another round of sensation. I pawed at my groin.
Only, I couldn’t figure out how to get my hands inside the swimsuit. It was one of those barely there racing cuts, and my hard cock was making a big ol’ lump in the front, but I couldn’t remember how to get my hands inside the suit and onto my needy dick. Erik had made me forget. That fucker!
I was crazy with horniness and the need to jack off, even though my balls couldn’t have had much spunk left in them after all the other times I’d cum that weekend. I pawed at my crotch, frustrated and desperate for relief.
“Problem, bro?” Erik simpered, knowing perfectly well I couldn’t say a word back.
I scowled and ignored him. I had to get to my cock—immediately!
Erik was laughing his ass off at my expense, but I didn’t care. How the hell did this swimsuit work? Maybe I could tear through the front?
“Looks like you’re having some trouble, bro? I bet if you said, ‘Erik is the greatest,’ you’d be able to get at that hard-on of yours. Oh, wait!—You can’t say a fucking word!” More laughter from asshole-boy, and I spared a second to elbow him.
“Ow! You fuck-head!” Erik protested, ’cause my elbow did catch his ribs kinda hard. But fucking hell, he deserved it. “And here I’m trying to help you. Seriously, bro, you want to get at that hard-on? All you have to say is, ‘Erik is the greatest,’ just like I told you.”
A post-hypnotic suggestion, obviously. But knowing Erik, it might only countermand the forget how swimsuits work order, or it might trigger an order to make me bark a Beatles medley like a dog, or it might cause me to drop right back into a hypnotic trance. There was absolutely no telling. All I knew was my crotch was on fire and I needed relief, and there was no way I was going to find a way to get my hands inside there on my own.
“Just say it, bro. ‘Erik is the greatest.’ What’cha waitin’ for? Just say it.”
I spared a moment to scowl at Erik because I was seriously pissed off. Fine, I mouthed. Erik is the greatest.
Well, I was still awake, and I wasn’t barking. But I also wasn’t getting my hand into that swimsuit to relieve my frustrated boner. What the fucking hell!
Erik started laughing his ass off again. “Or maybe”—he laughed so hard he could barely speak—“or maybe it was—was ‘Erik is the greatest hypnotist ever’! Try saying that!”
By now I was fuming and frantic. I fucking had to get to my cock! I was getting hornier by the second! I had to take the risk.
Erik is the greatest hypnotist ever! Erik is the greatest hypnotist ever!
Suddenly—bammo!—I remembered exactly how to get the front of that swimsuit down! I got my hips off the couch and shoved the swimsuit to my ankles. That butt-plug wiggle made my ass very happy, and my erect cock sprang free, tipped with pre-cum and eager to play.
“There. Was that so hard?” Erik quipped, laughing at his own joke and my desperation.
I grabbed my cock with both hands and started flailing at it. My rod was sore from a weekend of action, but I had to get off—had to!
“Here, let me help you with that,” Erik said, reaching over to drizzle lube onto the head of my dick.
... Which helped a lot. The change from friction to glide eased the pain in my cock as I pumped away. I could tell I’d need to go a while before I could cum, because my balls were basically empty in spite of how horny I was, but now I could reach that goal without rubbing my prick raw.
Something beeped. It sounded familiar, but what was it? I was too lost in jacking off to care, until it beeped again. Then I placed it: the alarm on Dad’s wristwatch. He blinked. After a moment, his hand moved to turn off the alarm, and he croaked, “It’s ... twelve-oh-one Monday, boys.” Dad started to extract himself from the tangled bodies on the floor. His voice, unused for nearly a day and a half, got stronger as he shook himself free of the trance—and of Erik’s can’t talk order.
Nothing that’s permanent. That was one of the basic House Rules. I was betting Dad used that one to purge the new ones Erik had imposed on us.
Mark and I looked at each other but were still unable to vocalize. But if Dad could break free of the can’t talk rule, we could too. At least I was confident I could. I just needed a little more time.
Dad cleared his throat and said, “It’s twelve-oh-one Monday. The weekend is officially over.” Which meant our full access, full cooperation agreement was officially over too.
Leave it to Dad to think ahead and set an alarm. I guess he knew more about what his devious sons would get up to than we gave him credit for.
“Aw, man—do we gotta stop?” Jake sounded disappointed and groggy at the same time.
“I didn’t say that,” Dad said. “I hate going to bed with blue balls. I bet my sons do too.” Mark and I looked at each other, and we nodded. “But first, Erik, hand over the crystals, please. After I wipe away those unauthorized rules, we’re going to finish this with clear heads.”
8.
I woke up gradually. I was in bed, my arms and legs tangled with Erik’s, same as usual, our morning woodies pressed against each other. I touched my chest to confirm my pendant was back with me. Oh, yeah!
“’Morning,” he grumbled, yawning, with a trace of morning breath.
“You’re an asshole. G’morning. Did I mention you’re an asshole?”
But I still blew him, and he blew me.
The smell of coffee lured me, but first I pulled on a pair of boxers and visited the bathroom to piss. I shuffled downstairs to the kitchen.
Mark, in a tee-shirt and shorts, was pouring himself a cup. He smiled when he saw me and muttered something about how pleased he was that the natives of Borneo had learned to wear clothing, even if it was just a simple pair of boxer shorts.
“Fuck you,” I teased back. “You didn’t seem to mind yesterday, or the day before.”
The weekend hung between us. More stuff to process.
I decided to change the subject: “Jake get off okay?”
Mark shrugged. “I guess. I’m not sure where he got off to last night. All I know is, he wasn’t with me when I woke up this morning.”
From upstairs, Dad’s voice shouted: “Aww—Fuck, yeah!”
Mark and I smirked at each other. My turn to shrug: “Dad’s not usually that vocal when he masturbates.”
Mark laughed, quietly. “I don’t know where he found the energy. My cock’s so sore I won’t be able to fuck or jack off for at least a couple of days.”
Erik joined us. “Somebody mention fucking and jacking off?” He was naked as usual. Things don’t change in Borneo overnight.
“Dad,” I said, nodding my head toward the ceiling. “Didn’t you just hear him jacking off?”
“Mmm,” was Erik’s response as he poured himself some coffee.
Footsteps came down the stairs, faster than Dad usually did. Jake? “Hey, y’all,” he said. He was dressed from the waist down, still pulling on his shirt. “Hate to run out on y’all, but Ah’m ’bout to be late fer work. Hey, c’n Ah get one’a them ’nanas, please?” I pulled off a banana and tossed it to him. “Thanks, Erik!”
“I’m Derik,” I said.
He peeled the top half of the banana. “Oh, sorry. Ah knew one’a y’all was Derik.”
Sometimes I hated being a twin.
Who’m I kidding? There was absolutely no way I was going to give up Erik, even if he was a shithead half the time.
“Ah swear, Ah can’t eat one’a these things without thinkin’ ’bout blowjobs,” Jake said.
“See?” I grinned at Erik. “It’s not just me.”
Erik and I had always been kinda vanilla in the bedroom. We’d talked about trying some kinks but never knew where to start—and really, there wasn’t anything wrong with ordinary sex between us. Jake had turned out to be a really kinky fuck. Obviously he liked hypnosis, and after this weekend I was thinking maybe Erik and I should invite him over to play again sometime soon. Maybe he had a lot more fetishes we could try out together. He could probably broaden our horizons, a lot. Or was it weird to have sex with your older brother’s ex-boyfriend?
More footsteps from upstairs. By process of elimination, this had to be Dad.
“Hey, listen,” Jake said around a mouthful of banana to the other twin, which by process of elimination he probably figured out was Erik. “Thanks ’n all, but looks like Ah won’t need y’all to hook me up with yer Dad after all. Ah kinda took care of that mahself last night after we was done ... y’know, playin’ around.” Leaning in, he added a conspiratorial whisper: “That man’s all kinds of good sex. Hawt, hawt, hawt! He done purt near wore me out!”
Mark cocked an eyebrow, surprised. “Wore you out? I didn’t think that was possible.” He used to date Jake, so he’d know.
“Who’s worn out? Who’re we talking about?” Dad, in boxers, his pendant safely back in its usual place on his chest again, moved in behind Jake, slid his arms around Jake’s waist. Jake rolled his head back, and they kissed. Intimately.
When their mouths parted, Dad chewed part of Jake’s mouthful of banana with a shit-eating grin. “Good morning, boys. Everybody have a good night?”
“Not as good as you, apparently,” Mark said. But if there was any jealousy about his ex-boyfriend hooking up with our Dad, I couldn’t hear it in his voice. He seemed amused by the whole thing.
Jake pulled away and said to Dad, “Listen, Ah gotta run. Ah’ll call ya tonight.” Another quick peck on the mouth and they parted, Jake walking backward as he said to Dad, “We’re still on fer Wednesday night, right?” To the rest of us: “Thanks fer lettin’ me join in this weekend—had mahself a real blast. Mark, glad’ta see y’all’re back in town. Catch all y’all later!” And then he was out the door.
Uhm, change what I said earlier to: Or was it weird to have sex with your older brother’s ex-boyfriend who was maybe going out with your father?
Yeah, like anyone in this family had room to talk about weird. Is there a polite way to say something like, So, Dad, if you’re not fucking Jake blind later, would you mind if Erik and I borrowed him and his toy bag for a while?
Dad poured himself some coffee. Taking a sip, he noticed we were all looking at him. “What? Surprised your old man has stamina?”
Erik and I looked at each other. No way were we touching that comment! “Uh, we gotta get ready for work,” we said in unison. Smooth way to change the subject, right?
“And I gotta start sending out more résumés,” Mark added.
“Okay, boys, but we’re still talking about this weekend tonight when I get home, got it?”
The other problem with having a psychologist for a father? They like to process the hell out of everything.
“Everything turned out great, right?” Erik chirped. “We all had fun, and Dad, it looks like you even got a new boyfriend out of it. That means we can do it again sometime soon, right?”
Dad, in mid-sip, tried to stifle a chuckle that came out as a snort instead.
“Don’t push your luck, fuck-head,” I muttered to Erik as I grabbed his shoulder and hustled him toward the stairs. We still had to shower, shave, and get dressed.
Besides, thinking about the weekend had my dick stirring again. Maybe I could talk Erik into another quick blowjob swap in the shower. Now that I had my pendant back, I was betting he’d find me very persuasive.