Found my younger brother on Gay dating site

I never imagined I'd be spilling my guts like this, but fuck, it's been eating me up inside. I'm 21, name's Alex, and my younger brother Tyler just turned 18 back in September. We’ve always been stupidly close: shared a room our whole lives, covered for each other when Dad bailed, basically raised ourselves while Mom worked herself to death. He’s my best friend. My shadow. My everything.
And now he’s the reason I can’t sleep without getting hard remembering what we’ve done.

It started when I was swiping on that app, just blowing off steam. I’m bi, keep it quiet at home, but I hook up when I need to. Then Tyler’s face showed up. Shirtless in our bathroom mirror, that shy grin, bio that said “18, new to this, looking to explore safely.” My stomach dropped. Guys on there are predators. No way in hell was I letting some creep touch him first.

I spent a whole day pacing, heart pounding, trying to figure out how to even say it. Finally, that night when Mom was on her night shift, I knocked on his door.

“Hey, Ty… can we talk?”

He was sprawled on his bed in grey sweats and a thin white tee, phone in hand. “Yeah, what’s up? You look like someone died.”

I shut the door, sat on the edge of his mattress, and just blurted it. “I saw you on the app. The hookup one.”

His phone slipped out of his fingers. “Wait—what? You’re on there too?” His face went bright red. “Holy shit, Alex.”

“Yeah, I’m bi. Been keeping it low-key.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “I’m not mad, okay? Just… that app’s rough. Guys don’t give a fuck about newbies. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

He picked at a loose thread on his sweats. “I know it’s risky. I just… I’ve been thinking about it forever. I’m curious. Scared, but curious.”

I scooted closer. “Have you done anything yet?”

He shook his head. “Just chatted. Bailed every time.”

Relief hit me like a truck. “Good. If you’re gonna do this, you need to know how to stay safe. Condoms every time. Free clinic downtown. And you have to talk: tell the guy what you want, what you don’t.”

He looked up, eyes bright. “You sound like you actually know what you’re talking about.”

“I’ve done enough to not be an idiot about it,” I said, voice low. The room felt warmer all of a sudden.

He licked his lips. “What if… what if I asked you to show me? I trust you more than anyone on earth, Alex.”

My heart slammed against my ribs. “Ty… we’re brothers.”

“I know,” he whispered, his hand landing on my knee. “But it’s just us. No one ever has to know. And you’d keep me safe, right?”

I stared at him, those big eyes, that mouth I’d watched grow up, and something in me snapped. “…Okay. Just lessons. We stop the second it feels wrong.”

He nodded so fast I thought he’d get whiplash. “Deal.”

I cupped his face, thumbs brushing his cheeks. “First thing: kissing.” I leaned in slow, giving him every chance to pull away. Our lips touched, soft, barely there. He let out the tiniest sigh and pressed closer. I parted my lips, licked gently at his bottom one. “Open for me, Ty.”

He did, and our tongues slid together: warm, wet, tasting like the mint gum he’s always chewing. He made this little hungry noise that went straight to my dick.

“Fuck,” he breathed against my mouth. “That’s… way better than I thought it’d be.”

I smiled into the kiss and took it deeper, tilting his head so I could lick into him properly. His hands fisted in my shirt. When we broke apart we were both breathing hard.

“Shirts off,” I muttered, already yanking mine over my head. He copied me instantly, and then our bare chests were pressed together, skin hot, his heartbeat hammering against mine.

I kissed down his neck, sucked on the spot just under his ear. “Jesus, Alex…” His hands slid down my back, nails dragging. When he rolled his hips I felt how hard he was: both of us straining against our sweats.

“Ty,” I rasped, “you’re so fucking hard.”

He laughed shakily. “Yeah… you too.” His palm cupped me through the fabric, rubbing slow.

I groaned. “Yeah. Touch me.”

He shoved my sweats down first, and my cock sprang out, heavy and leaking. His eyes went huge. “Fuck, you’re thick.”

I tugged his down too, and there he was: long, flushed pink, foreskin pulled back just enough to show the slick head. “Look at you,” I whispered, wrapping my hand around him. He bucked into my fist with a broken moan.

We just… fell into it. No words, no teaching, just need. Stroking each other slow, then faster, hips rocking, mouths crashing together. Pre-cum smeared between our fingers, made everything slick.

“God, your hand feels good,” he panted, forehead against mine. “Don’t stop.”

“Same, baby,” I said, and he whined at the word. I twisted my wrist on the upstroke and he jerked, spilling hot over my fist with a choked, “Alex: fuck:”

That set me off. I came hard, painting his stomach and mine, groaning his name into his neck. We kept lazily stroking each other through it until we were both shaking.

After we wiped up, he flopped back on the pillows, grinning. “That was insane.”

“Yeah,” I laughed, breathless. “Get some sleep, perv.”

But later that night, after pizza and pretending to watch Netflix, the air between us was still electric. We ended up back in his room, door locked. He was sitting on the edge of the bed in just his boxers, biting his lip, looking nervous and turned-on at the same time.

He scooted closer, voice soft. “Hey… can we kiss again?”

I didn’t answer with words. I just pulled him into my lap, cupped the back of his head, and kissed him slow and deep. He melted instantly, arms around my neck, little moans muffled against my tongue. We made out like that for ages: lazy, wet, filthy kisses that left us both hard again.

Eventually his hand slid down my chest, brushing over my boxers. Mine did the same. We didn’t even have to ask; we just pushed each other’s boxers down and wrapped our hands around each other again. Slow strokes turned fast, hips grinding, mouths barely breaking apart.

“Fuck, I love how you feel,” he whispered against my lips.

“Love touching you,” I panted back.

We came almost together, messy and perfect, swallowing each other’s moans.

After we caught our breath, he rested his forehead against mine, cheeks flushed. “So… oral. How do you actually do that right? Like, show me?”

I exhaled hard, cock already twitching again. “Yeah. Lie back.”

He did, boxers kicked off completely. I settled between his thighs, kissed down his chest, teased his nipples until he was squirming. Then I licked a long stripe up his cock.

He cried out, hands flying to my hair. “Alex: holy shit:”

I took him deep, swallowed around him, bobbed slow at first, then faster. He lasted maybe ninety seconds before he was babbling, “Gonna come: fuck, Alex, please:”

I sucked harder and he exploded down my throat, hips bucking, moaning my name like it was the only word he knew. I swallowed every drop, crawled up and kissed him so he could taste himself on my tongue.

He panted against my mouth, eyes blown wide. “Your turn. Let me try.”

I lay back, and he crawled between my legs like he belonged there. He started tentative: little kitten licks, tasting the pre-cum beading at my slit.

“Like that?” he asked, looking up at me with those big eyes.

“Perfect,” I rasped. “Now take it in your mouth: soft, no teeth.”

He sank down, lips stretching around me, tongue swirling. He hummed, the vibration making my hips jerk.

“Fuck, Ty… just like that. Take more when you’re ready.” He did, bobbing slow, drool dripping down my shaft. I threaded fingers through his hair. “You’re a fucking natural.”

He pulled off with a wet pop, grinning. “Really?”

“Really. Don’t stop.”

He dove back in, taking me deeper, gagging a little but pushing through, eyes watering but determined. When I warned him I was close, he just hummed and sucked harder. I came hard down his throat, pulsing against his tongue. He swallowed most of it, a little dribbling down his chin. I wiped it with my thumb and he sucked it clean, grinning like he’d won a prize.

We fell asleep tangled up, his head on my chest, my arms locked around him.

The next afternoon, the second Mom left for work, Tyler dragged me into my room and shut the door.

“I want the real thing,” he said, no hesitation. “All of it. Both ways.”

My cock was already hard. “You sure?”

“Completely.”

We stripped fast, mouths fused together. I grabbed lube and condoms, pushed him gently onto his back. “Gonna open you up first. Tell me if anything hurts.”

I slicked two fingers, circled his hole. He shivered. “Cold.”

“Relax, baby.” I pressed one finger in slow. He gasped, clenched, then forced himself to breathe.

“Okay… more.”

Second finger. I scissored them, curled, and found his prostate. His back arched off the bed. “Fuck: right there, do that again:”

I did, over and over, until he was rocking back on my hand, begging. Three fingers had him trembling, cock leaking on his stomach.

“Your turn,” he said, voice wrecked. He flipped me onto my stomach, prepped me just as careful: asking every few seconds, “Like this? Too much?” until I was pushing back on his fingers, moaning into the pillow.

I rolled a condom on, slicked myself up. “On your back, Ty. Want to see your face.”

He spread his legs wide. I lined up, pushed in slow. His breath hitched, eyes squeezing shut.

“Breathe,” I whispered, kissing his forehead. “Push out a little.”

He did, and I sank deeper: tight, hot, perfect. When I bottomed out we both groaned.

“Move,” he panted. “Please.”

I started slow, rolling my hips. He clawed at my back. “Harder: fuck me harder, Alex:”

I slammed in, angling for his spot. He screamed, cock trapped between us, leaking steadily.

“Touch yourself,” I growled.

He jerked himself frantically. Two more thrusts and he came untouched, clenching around me so hard my vision whited out. I followed right after, filling the condom with a shout.

We barely caught our breath before he was rolling another condom onto himself, eyes dark. “My turn.”

I got on all fours. He pushed in slow, hands shaking on my hips. “So tight: fuck, you feel unreal.”

“Move, Ty,” I begged.

He did: tentative at first, then harder, deeper, until the headboard was banging the wall. I reached back, pulled him down so his chest was against my back.

“Harder,” I gasped. “Own me.”

He lost it: pounding into me, one hand reaching around to stroke me in time. We came together, filthy noises echoing, collapsing in a sweaty heap.

After round three: me riding him until we were both sobbing from overstimulation: he curled into my arms, tracing lazy circles on my chest.