The story of Breaking Brian in is three quarters fiction and one quarter autobiographical. Any similarity to any events, names, places or life experiences is pure accidental. I never tell a story using individual's real personal or place names. If you are a under age, (according to any law of Canada or any other Country on this big blue marble of ours, then you ought to leave now. If, on the other hand, you find this story offensive or it is illegal according to the laws of your country for you to view such content, I suggest you tune out and go find a good Sherlock Holmes mystery or a good book written about the days of wooden ships and Iron men. They are my personal favourites. This story can not be distributed in any way manner whatsoever without my expressed written consent.
Writing a good and engaging story is only part of the task at hand. From an early teen age, when I won a competition in High School, I have been a writer of sorts all throughout my corporate and government careers. I have been known as a wordsmith. But I have rarely written stories involving sex between males although I am a gay man myself. Really, in some stories, sex can be a little too overdone. I love a story and to me a story is like a painting. It's not all about 'wham bam, thank you guy'. To me, it's all in the detail lovingly layered. I once had a partner, now deceased, who had the wonderful gift of taking the story I wrote and adding what I would call the 'bedroom scenes' into it. He would then publish them under his nom de plume rather than mine and I was quite happy with that. On two or three occasions we reversed the authorship relationship. If you like this little story and want to comment or offer criticism, be my guest. I answer every e-mail. Feel free to send it along to monosauris@hotmail.com
Part 2 - The March Break episode - Meeting Brendan
In the fall of the previous year, Brian's cousin Tommy had finally moved up to join his parents in the anthill known as 'Ontario'. Come September, Brian returned to his High School but following Tommy's advice, he was very careful not to let it be known to anyone, not even his best buddies, that he had developed an interest in cock. Even though his cousin Tommy had been the dominating partner in their summer long sexual relationship, Tommy knew and had seen for himself what happens to a guy who showed any interest whatsoever in other guys. He had witnessed bullying up close. He had seen older guys in his school intimidate and even force mild mannered kids or physically weak kids, whom they called geeks and whom they suspected of having gay tendencies, into servicing them. And, even though he was preparing to move on to a new life in his new Province, Tommy really did not relish the idea of his little cock dominated cousin getting hurt or being labelled a cocksucker in a small rural community. Time and again, between those times when Tommy had Brian service his sexual need, he had taken the time to warn, teach and drill into Brian's head the need to not show overt interest in other males. (Almost makes Cousin Tommy look like the Good Samaritan, doesn't it?).
Fortunately, Brian was not the flaming faggot type. He wasn't really a jock either. He couldn't play hockey, for example, a sport every Canadian kid is born to. Unlike Americans who won't believe this, every Canadian kid is born with a hockey stick in one hand and a puck in the other. (If you don't believe me, ask Wayne Gretsky or Sidney Crosby for heaven's sake). The best Brian could do for skating in the winter time was to use what were known as cheese cutters. (Betcha few of you have ever heard of them, much less seen a pair,what?)
The problem with Brian's weak ankles came about by an accident early on in his life. It happened on a Victoria Day weekend. Victoria Day, named after the late Queen Victoria, is the day of year when Great Britain, Canada and all the other Commonwealth Countries officially celebrate the Queen's birthday remembering , of course, that Canada is a Constitutional Monarchy. In Brian's village, the day was usually celebrated by a field day of games for the children, Tombola bingo and other games of chance for the adults. In the late afternoon there was a giant BBQ with lots of hot dogs and hamburgers for the kids. There was all types of food laid out on rows of tables for the adults. The day of celebration usually ended with a huge bonfire in the village square or some other designated place, the distribution of free ice cream and sparklers for the kids handed out by the Members of the Royal Canadian Legion. The day was topped off by a beautiful fireworks display.
On the days leading up to Victoria Day and the accident, it had rained terribly. The Legion Members had built a large lean-to in the Village Square to shelter the bonfire stack from the rain in the hopes that it would not get too wet before it was eventually lit. The Legionnaires had already decided that if it was raining on Victoria Day, they would light it on the following Saturday. Miraculously, the rain stopped in the mid morning. With the ground being sopping wet, the Village Mayor and Council decided to close off a large section of the main street. They designated one area near the Firehall for the children's game area and another to set up the tables for the Tombola, etc. Later, they would clear away the Tombola materials, lay white sheets on the tables and spread out the feast.
They couldn't do anything about the Village Green but in the afternoon a few good men took down the lean-to and added some very dry material to the bonfire stack. However, the roadways leading to the back of the Village Green were unpaved and, because of the rain, these roadways were extremely muddy. That evening after the bonfire had been blazing for a long while and the fireworks were over, Brian's dad decided that it was time to get the youngster home to bed. Brent (Brian's dad) had been carrying him but as they were moving down the muddy roadway, he came across a Village elder who was struggling with a heavy load of bags and other things. Brett decided to help the poor soul, so he put Brian down and had him hold on to his pocket while he helped the elder with his parcels. Cars, as well as, people were moving slowly along the muddy roadway. Suddenly, Brian slipped in the mud and just as suddenly a car was passing. Brian's feet had slipped under the oncoming wheels of the passing car. Brian screamed. Everyone, including the driver of the car, froze. Thank goodness there was a lot of mud. The front wheel of the car rolled over Brian's little ankles and even Brent, his father, heard the snapping sound. To make a long story short, they had to rush Brian all the way into the big City to the Children's hospital where, after an operation to set his small bones, he remained for a number of weeks with both legs wrapped in separate casts with a bar strung between them. He could not move for well over four months and had to be either carried or wheeled around on a gurney. Once he was released from the hospital and returned to the Village, and because his father was a volunteer fireman, the younger members of the local Volunteer Fire Department offered to take turns to transport Brian wherever he had to go. He became the 'unofficial' mascot for the Fire Department. Often they would come round and just pick him up and carry him on walks in the fresh air. When the casts came off and he began to walk again with the help of crutches, the young firemen would walk along beside him to make sure that he did not fall. Once school began, his mates and neighbourhood chums would bring his homework home for him and his mom helped him to complete it. When it was done, these mates picked it up and took it back to school so that it could be graded. On several occasions, Brother Ambrose, his school principal, and several of the other teaching Brothers would stop by and spend a little time with him much to his delight. He returned to school in November of that year. Everyone was happy to see him return. Even though he was back at school, he still had to use his crutches a while longer. To celebrate his return, the Brothers and all his friends had a great 'Welcome Back' sign strung up over the school entrance.
In the winter following the accident, his father had arranged for a pair of these double bladed skates to be made especially for him by the local blacksmith who had been born in Holland and remembered seeing other Dutch children use them. They were like training wheels on a bike. Many children started out with them and then graduated to a single blade skate. Everyone soon came to understand that Brian would never be able to graduate to a single blade skate. These cheese cutters were fitted over Brian's regular winter boots and were strapped on. The cheese cutters enabled Brian to join the other kids on the village ice rink. While he could not execute a turn without stumbling and falling, on the straight and narrow he could go pretty damned fast. He loved challenging other kids to a race and they enjoyed taking him up on it.
Although he couldn't stand up on single blade skates, he could go tobogganing and he learned to enjoy cross country skiing. Brian grew up to be a young, vibrant, sports loving (well, so long as it was soccer), music loving (if it was classical), healthy young guy who, from the moment he said good-bye to his cousin Tommy at the train station, buried both his wonder and his lust for cock very, very deep.
Brian was not exactly attracted to boys his own age. He seemed to be rather fascinated by young men in their late teens to early twenties. He had seen a few really good looking jocks in the senior class. There was one especially beautiful, well built, 6 ft.2 in, 18 year old, red haired Irish Adonis in particular, named Tyler, whom he would have loved to get to know much, much better. But, remembering Tommy's warnings, he stayed clear of him. But he did get to know some of the senior jocks on a personal level through his participation in various school dictated exercise programs.
Following Tommy's advice, and fortunately for him, Brian was able to control his feelings even in the showers where he could see these young, healthy boy-men in all their naked glory. He had developed and perfected the trick of fixing his gaze on a spot on the wall in the shower room and humming some piece of classical music to himself. It might not have worked for everyone but Brian was happy that it worked for him.
If the truth be known and thank goodness it wasn't, Brian had become enamoured and very much in lust with one of the Religious Brothers who taught them but, in his mind and with his religious upbringing, he knew that these men dressed in their long black habits, no matter how manly they might be, were definitely out of bounds and to be avoided. But, Brother Sebastian was something else again. He wasn't exactly a Brother. He was young, perhaps in his very late teens or early 20's, and very well built because Brian had quite accidentally seen his beautiful hairy chest once when he participated in a pick-up game of soccer with some of the school kids. Because of the heat he had removed his shirt. He did not wear a religious habit per se but wore a short black tunic with grey pants. Brian wanted to get to know Brother Sebastian a lot more because there was something, but he couldn't explain what it was, that was drawing him to this young man. But Brother Sebastian lived in the Brother's residence located next to Church and was unapproachable most of the time. Sebastian taught in the lower grades so although Brian had an interest in him and would periodically see him in the corridors of the School , he was not someone that Brian had or could have regular contact with. But, what Brian did not know is that Brother Sebastian had once seen Brian naked in the showers and had an interest in him. But, the time and circumstances were not right.
Brian grew up in a village where everyone knew everyone. No-one ever locked their doors. And, if one of the women was short of something, she or one of her children went over to your neighbour's house, knocked, but if no-one was home, went in and borrowed whatever was needed providing a note was left to let the person know that something had been borrowed and who had borrowed it. Just as soon as it was practical, the borrowed item was replaced.
One day, at the beginning of March break, Brian's mother was baking but, half way through the process, she ran out of sugar. She asked Brian to go over to the McNeil house which was a few doors down the way and ask to borrow two cups of sugar. What Brian did not know was that Mr. McNeil was his mother's lover. Nor did he, in the wildest areas of his fertile imagination, know that Mr. McNeil's first born (Brendan) was the young boy-man deliciously fucking his mom on any and every opportunity accorded when his dad was out of town on business.
Brian, being totally and probably blissfully unaware, went over and knocked on the back door of the McNeil household. Now, the McNeil's consisted of a father (remember, his wife had died of cancer at an early age) in his early late 30's or early 40's about whom there were many rumours and stories. Bill McNeil was a good looking, well built and well endowed man who had a roving eye for the ladies. Until he had settled down into his growing relationship with Judy, Brian's mom, there were many a story told in the local pub and around the knitting circles that he was working at satisfying the natural itches of several rather frustrated wives or widows, if you know what I mean. Whether there was any truth to the rumours or stories no-one seemed to know for sure but in a small village, it doesn't take much to start a rumour in a small village and quite often they are started by someone just bored out of their little minds or have an axe to grind and want to stir the pot.
Bill and his late wife, Karen, had three boys. There was Brendan who grew up in the village but he was now rarely seen by the villagers because he spent most of his time in the City attending University. Brendan, or Dan as he was called by his close friends, was 20 going on 21. Brendan was a good student and an all round athlete who enjoyed playing rugby even though he did not have the real build of an Irish bruiser. He stood about 6 feet, had short cut blond hair, blue eyes and a build with a solid chest, a narrow waist and a well chiseled six pack developed over the years by a regimen consisting of a medium weightlifting program and long distance running. In addition to playing rugby, he played at, rather than in, a number of other sports such as soccer, pickup hockey and downhill skiing in the winter. When it came to his sex life, Brendan was an opportunist. 'Any port in a storm', was his personal guiding principle. He'd been introduced to sex by one of his slightly older female cousins during a trip to his grandparents. This led him to seducing and then fucking Debby Foster on a fairly regular basis while he was attending local High School although he worked at, and sometimes was very successful in, deflowering other young village virgins. His introduction into man-on-man sex came one day when he went over to a mall located in the next village. While there, he went to use a small bathroom that seemed to be tucked away at the end of a rather dark corridor. While he was taking a leak, this other young guy walked in and even though there were three urinals, took the one beside him. This other chap began looking at Brendan?s still soft but substantial piece of equipment. Suddenly, the guy reached over and began fondling him. Brendan never missed a beat He turned sideways, clapped his hand on the guys shoulder, looked the other guy straight in the eye, and told him that if he wanted it, to get on his knees. The guy didn't hesitate and Brendan experienced his first blowjob. While the blowjob was a wonderful experience, it was the domination, the sense of power over someone else, that really thrilled him. When he went on to University, he left Betty behind and hooked up with several other young ladies but none that he wanted to settle down with. Sex was readily available and because of his good looks and strong build, he was the object of attention for both females and males. Brendan was not into being anyone's personal bitch. He was not into fucking guys nor was he into giving blowjobs but if a guy showed any inclination that he was willing to help him out when there were no females available, he took advantage of the willing mouth and throat. He never let whoever it was on their knees forget that he was in charge and that they, for that particular space of time, were his private bitch.
The second McNeil son was Lorne. Now there was a right royally frightful person who if there was any trouble about, headed straight for it like a moth to a flame. He was 17 going 18. Where his older brother was blond, Lorne,s body hair was as black as the ace of spades. He had several girlfriends, whom he was fucking on a regular basis, among the student population of his High School. He was in his final year at the High School and, given that he was much more mechanically than academically inclined, he had already stated his intention of enlisting in the Navy when he was done.
The third and youngest son was Wayne who at 15 going 16 was both the same age as Brian and a close mate. He was already approaching the six foot mark. He was a natural Irish redhead.
Brian had been in the McNeil house many times visiting. With both Lorne & Wayne and other neighborhood boys, he regularly played pick-up games of soccer, softball and hide-go-seek. Mr. McNeil, himself, even joined the boys in their games when he had the time.
Brian really did not know Brendan except to see him every once in a great while when he was home from University. He rarely, if ever, mixed with the younger guys. Brian, following the time honoured custom, knocked on the back door. There was no answer. After knocking even more loudly a second time and, again, receiving no reply, he opened the door and called out for Mr. McNeil. Still getting no answer, he called out for Wayne. But, again, there was no reply. So, convinced that no-one was home. Brian stepped into the kitchen and went over to the table. He sat down, pulled the note pad to him that had been left there for the purpose and wrote down who he was and that he had borrowed two cups of sugar which his Mom would replace as soon as she got to the shops. Then, getting up, he proceeded to look for the sugar.
He had opened several cupboards only to find every other spice, cereals, cans and dry foodstuffs but no sugar. He was reaching up into a cupboard near the hall leading to the living room when he heard a voice behind him saying. 'You won't find what you?re looking for there'.
Brian rapidly turned around and suddenly felt as though he were a thief caught in the act of stealing the Crown Jewels. Focusing his eyes, he came to see Brendan who had just come up from the basement where Brain, remembering something that Wayne had told him, knew he had his rooms. Wayne had never taken him down there to show him the renovations they had carried out.Brendan, standing there with his hands on his hips, looked at the startled kid and sensing an opportunity asked ?Who the fuck are you and what the hell do you want??
Brian knew exactly what he was looking for but all he could do, despite the fact that his eyes were glued to the apparition directly ahead of him, was stutter out the word 'Shhhhhhhuuuuugggggggaaaaaaaarrrrrr'.
'I now know what you want', replied the young man, 'but that still doesn't answer my question of who the fuck are you?' he stated matter-of-factly.
'I'm Brian', Brian said in a low whisperas he shifted his weight from leg to leg.
'Okay Brian, what's the last name?' barked the young man now beginning to enjoy the confusion registered on the face of the young kid in front of him. Just so he could distract the kid, he moved his hand down to scratch his slowly rising equipment. Sure enough, he saw Brian's eyes lower to follow his hand movement.
'O'Rourke', came the long awaited answer.
'Hmmmmmm, O'Rourke? O'Rourke? Ahhhh. So you're Judy's kid?? came the next question as he watched this frightened kid squirm in front of him, Brendan knew from the first moment he laid eyes on him who this kid was. He had seen his picture on Judy's fire place mantle in her living room. As he continued to stare at Brian making him very unfomfortable in the process, he remembered the other morning when he had slipped into Judy's house unnoticed, had tip toed up the stairs to her bedroom, had seen her laying on her belly with nothing but a sheet covering her lovely long, naked body. He recalled that he had very quietly undressed. He relived the moments when he gently pulled down the sheet slowly exposing Judy's luscious body and he remembered slipping into bed beside her. He relived the moment when, in her sleep, Judy had rolled onto her side so that Brendan found himself spooning her. He remembered, and so too did his cock as it now rose to its full potential, sliding his solid 9 inches of cockmeat into her moist cunt and taking them both to a wonderful, mind numbing orgasm. He now also remembered that it's been three days since he's blown a load and he knew his balls were primed. Having watched the kid follow his every move, he concluded that the kid in front of him just might be an opportunity. 'Any port in a storm', he thought to himself.
But Brian still hadn't offered an answer to Brendan's question. He was following the movement of Brendan's hand as he scratched around his equipment. Finally, he shook his head in the affirmative.
Brendan was wet from taking a shower and all he had wrapped around his waist was a rather small, skimpy towel. But what really made Brian's mouth drop was the fact that Brendan was an absolutely beautiful specimen of a man. He had wide shoulders, a well developed chest, a six pack Brian hoped he would have one day, and a narrow waist. He had no hair on his chest but he had a nice thick treasure trail that led from his belly button down into the towel. But, what really caught Brian?s eye was the terribly indecent growing bulge hiding behind that little wee towel.
Brendan certainly wasn't bothered by the whole scene being played out before him. He could care less that he had fucked this kid's mother and now, if the timing was right, he would face fuck the mother's son. Brendan was an equal opportunity user. Taking charge, he told Brian to sit down and pointed to a chair next to the refrigerator. Brian didn?t hesitate, he just sat.
Brendan moved toward the line of cupboards and began opening and closing different cupboard doors. Finally, he arrived at the set of cupboard doors located directly over Brian?s head. He stepped forward, reached up and latched on to one of the handles. As he did, the very big bulge hidden behind that very skimpy towel came in direct contact with Brian?s lips. Brendan stayed in that position for a few moments. He looked down at the kid below him and watched as he slowly flexed his hard cock that bounced against Brian?s lips. He played at moving things around within the cupboard and then, stepping back, he brought the bag of sugar out. Without saying a word, he put the bag down on the counter next to Brian. His hand, now free of the sugar, reached out and moved up to the back of Brian?s head. He gently but firmly pulled Brian?s head forwardÿand into his crotch. Brain offered no resistance. Taking Brain?s head now between his two strong hands, he began rubbing Brian?s lips back and forth across that area of the towel behind which his very hard, thick cock was sheltered. Just as Brendan expected, the towel fell away leaving Brendan naked and exposing his large, circumcised 9 inch cock to Brian's gaze. He actually pulled Brian's head forward until his lips and the leaking head of his very steely cock made contact. He rubbed his leaking cock across Brian's lips smearing the lips with his pre-cum . Brain followed the movement of the beautiful sight before him but did not open his mouth. He didn't know why he didn't open his mouth to take Brendan?s cock, but he just didn't.
Brendan wasn't having any of this shit. He wanted the kid to willingly suck his meat. He wanted to dominate the kid but he didn't want to force him or hurt him. He was dying to fuck this kids face. He wanted the personal satisfaction of knowing that he had used both the mother and her son for his personal relief and enjoyment. It would be a thrill for him to tell his buddies or recall in his old age that he had shot his cream into both of them. But he wasn't going to force Brian. The kid had to open his mouth and let Brendan slip his cock between his delicious looking lips of his own free will. Brendan didn't believe in hurting anyone for sexual gratification. He was well aware that there were people only too willing to let him to dominate them and, in the process, service him without having to resort to force.
Then, when he least expected it, a brilliant idea unfolded in his head. He reached for the bag containing the sugar on the counter beside Brian, Letting go of Brian?s head, he pick up the bag and bringing it directly into Brian's view, he pushed down his heavy cock and dipped the leaking head into the bag. He pulled it out and setÿthe bag back on the counter. With the head of his cock now fully coated in sugar, he reached out and once again placed his hand behind Brian's head. Again, he gently but firmly pulled him towards his waiting, leaking cock. In fractions of seconds after he applied the slightest pressure to Brian's lips, Brian opened his mouth and through his own eyes watched Brendan's big cock slowly slip into his mouth.
What followed was a slow, methodical, deliberate and forcefull face fucking. Brendan instinctively knew within the first few minutes that this was not Brian's first time swing on a cock. The kid was a natural born cocksucker with very little or no gag reflex. Brendan eventually worked all 9 inches luscious inches into Brian?s mouth. Exercising both patience and a little forceful pushing, he was able to sink some of those inches into Brian's throat without Brian gagging or choking. Brian, for his part, while servicing Tommy had very successfully improved on his technique of breathing through his nose while his mouth was full. Brendan, over his many experiences with willing cocksuckers, had perfected the art of face fucking. He always preferred the cocksucker to be underneath him so that he could fuck downward into the throat just as though he were fucking a nice tight cunt. What he preferred and what he got were not necessary always the same thing. The face fucking he gave Brian was slightly rough but no more so than he would give to any other individual, male or female for that matter, who was suckling on his cock for the first time. Brendan always wanted to make sure that the individual, in this case Brian, knew and understood that he, and not the cocksucker, was in control. There was no hurry. In fact, Brendan took his sweet time slowly inching up the cale of pleasure on his way to climax. After a good twenty minutes, he suddenly and without giving Brian any warning slammed his whole and entire cock into Brian's face embedding his lips in his thick pubic hair. Keeping Brian's lips and nose tight to his pubic area, he unloaded shot after shot of his warm cream into Brian's throat. That last forceful drive to place his cock in Brian's throat had caused Brian to tear up. But there was to be no let up while Brendan was shooting off because he wanted to force Brian into swallowing every drop he gave him.
When he was done shooting and his cock began to soften, he pulled it out of Brian's mouth. He reached over, picked up the bag of sugar and handed it to Brian. 'I think your mom is waiting for this', was all he said.
They did not say anything else to each other as Brian got up from the chair and made his way to the door. Once he had turned the handle and was halfway out on to the balcony, Brian turned to look back at Brendan. Not having bothered to pick up the towel, Brendan was standing, facing the door with his big cock in hand. Brendan looked straight into Brian's eyes. Then still gripping his not yet totally soft cock, be began to slowly slide his hand back and forth saying as he did 'You can come back for seconds later if you like'.
Brian didn't say a word when he closed the door behind him. He descended the stairs and began walking home at a quickened pace to bring his Mom the sugar she needed. But, as he walked home, in his mind eye he played out what had just happened. When he opened the door to his kitchen, he knew in his heart of hearts that he would go back.