Marcus, my friends brother (part 3)

This is part 3 of a mostly true story of an experience I had with my friends brother when I was 19.

Guide:

Sean - me (19)

Brad - my friend (19)

Marcus - my friend’s brother (23)

The story is a continuation the same morning after the previous posts events.

I turned and wandered toward the bathroom with the half filled washing basket. Marcus’s showering had filled the room with steam and it was slowly leaking out of the open door and into the hallway.

“Are you getting this hamper or not?” he shouted again.

“Yeah I’m coming” I said as I entered the bathroom. Marcus was washing his hair, the shampoo suds dripping down his front, his chest hair carefully catching each sud and channelling it to his snail trail, then over his outie belly button and into what can only be described as a forest. It had long since been a bush.

His eyes were closed, keeping the last remnants of soap from stinging his eyes. I had a moment to take in all of what he was. My waistband stretched slightly under the strain.

I followed the suds as they journeyed through the forest. Venturing along and dripping from the outcrop.

Lost in my inspection of him. I hadn’t seen him reopen his eyes.

“Liking what you see there gayboy?” He casually mentioned.

“Um…uh..sorry” I replied, suddenly understanding what I was doing and averting my gaze.

“Don’t be shy, you can look” he said.

I returned my eyes to him, avoiding looking him in the eye. Despite this, I could feel his eyes on me. watching my every reaction.

“Grab that wash cloth over there and help me scrub my back” he casually ordered.

“What?” I replied

“Was something I said complicated, get my back”

I wandered over and handed him the wash cloth to wet. He rinsed it under the water then rubbed his bar of soap into it. That bar of soap was as much a part of my scent memory of him as his cologne. It was clean smelling but with hints of cedar wood.

I began scrubbing the top of his back.

“harder, I’m not a princess” he quipped. I couldn’t gauge how he felt in this experience. But he was in control. That was far from the way I was feeling, I was out of my mind with the situation, but again, aroused.

His upper back was muscular and defined. Absolutely blemish free except for a small cluster of pimples in the middle of his back where his biceps and traps had long since stopped him reaching himself.

“Scrub hard there” he said.

I finished off the rest of his back.

“You did good” he said as he turned back around.

I glanced down to see he had grown significantly between his legs, he wasn’t fully hard but his cock had began to straighten out. Even semi hard it was impressive.

It was all one girth from start to end, thick though, like a gas station red bull can. Only longer. His foreskin sat covering the first quarter of the head. Something that I imagined would fully retract when he was 100% hard.

I looked back at his face, he looked at me. I couldn’t read him but I could feel he was looking into me.

I could hear my heart pounding in my ears, mixed with the only other noise in the room, the shower water bouncing off his body and landing on the plastic shower floor.

I broke away from his eyes and looked down. my suspicion was right, it did fully retract. The water now ran off the base as the head was pointing toward the sky.

I looked back up at him, his eyes still locked on mine but narrower. His chest was rising and falling faster than before.

I looked back down and then reached out to take hold of his dick, as my first finger touched the shaft I felt his hand grab my neck. Before I could react I was thrown clear across the room. The plastic washing basket breaking my fall. Remnant pieces of it exploding across the bathroom floor as I came to a halt against the tub.

Marcus stepped out of the shower and grabbed his towel without looking at me.

“Be gone by the time I’m dressed” he sternly mentioned as he walked out the room.

To be continued….