All My Children

By Steve Griffin

Published on Sep 28, 2002

Gay

AMC belongs to ABC and Disney. The story is mine, please do not distribute or archive without my permission. Don't read if you aren't over 18 or the age of majority in your area. And of course, this isn't real life, so you may not want to consider incest or unprotected sex.

If you have any story ideas, complaints, or praises, PLEASE e-mail me at knack6@hotmail.com

--

The tape told the story. Scott Chandler shutting arrogant Chris Stamp up for once in his loudmouth life by feeding him a healthy batch of tube steak. Ben Shepherd riding Stamp's service revolver for all it's worth, tweaking his meaty man-tits and smirking in ultimate pleasure as the oh-so-superior Chris unwittingly bucks his hips for more friction, opens his jaw for more meat. That went on for hours, coaxing long, powerful, slow explosions from Stamp's cock, sitting on his face to give him a taste of his own seminal medicine. Ben desperately wanted to flip the well-preserved beefcake over and pop his overly ripe cherry, but visions of an insane, hobbling cop hunting him down and plugging bullets into him stopped his impulses for once.

Scott had gone back to his university, and Chris promised to lay off the fire investigation. Ben didn't really believe him, but he could come up with a contingency plan. Lately he'd been too busy tracking down the Proteus money to think of the fire investigation. Money that had revealed itself as nothing more than worthless stocks, and more fun time spent with good brother Leo's wife Greenlee Smythe, the biggest bitch in the world, with the worst weedwhacker hairdon't imaginable. He always imagined that her stylist hated her even more than most of Pine Valley did.

thump thump

Hearing the request for entrance, Ben shut off his VCR and put the tape away. On the other side of the door was his aforementioned sibling, Leo DuPres.

"Hey, bro, just wondered how you were."

Ben stretched his arm around Leo's toned shoulders and led him to the couch. It felt right to touch Leo, a touch that Ben had yearned for his whole life.

"Fine. Did something happen with Nessa?"

Shaking his head no, Leo laid his hand on Ben's leg, staring intently at his latest new relative. He still hadn't gotten used to Trey...Ben without the glasses, or the smirk. But there was something about Ben that fascinated him, a closeness in a different way than he felt for David.

"I just wanted you to..."

On and on Leo went. Ben swallowed, straining to pay attention, too busy drowning in Leo's puppy dog eyes to listen intently. When he tried to look away, he was captivated by the breathtakingly sculpted face, and the blue V-Neck sweater showing just a hint of his sculpted torso.

"...don't listen to Greenlee. You're my brother, and I love you. I can't tell you how much I regret the way I..."

Leo was welling up, and even though Ben told himself he should use this to his advantage, he found himself getting emotional as well. Kendall, Greenlee, Chris, everyone were always judging him, waiting for him to screw up, but Leo was...different. Genuine. For the first time in too many years to count, Ben let his heart take over, and clasped Leo's hands in his. So delicate, such nimble, flawless digits. Ben fought back a sudden urge to suckle them.

"Don't. Do not apologize. I gave you every reason to distrust me. You have no reason to trust me now. No one else does. Yet there you are, beside me, defending me, caring about me. Do you know how long I've waited for that? For someone who loves me? I'd given up. And now I have you, a brother I can never be worthy of. I've done so many terrible things Leo, so many..."

"Shh, shh. That's the past."

Leo only meant to put his finger to Ben's lips as a symbolic gesture, but the skin-on-skin felt too right, too intoxicating. Trying to pass this off as acceptable, Leo snaked his hand around to cup the back of Ben's neck, pushing his head into a comforting shoulder. Moistening the expensive fabric, Ben had never felt more safe, or more aroused. He turned his face to get away, but only collided with Leo's endless neck. His mouth brushed against the perfect skin, and both men froze. They stayed that way for a few moments, until, against his will, Ben began circling and pinching Leo's nipples through his sweater. Leo shuddered as his nubs steeled from the abuse.

"We c-can't, Ben, I'm married, and...ugggghhhhh..."

Licking and biting that enticing neck, Ben placed Leo's hot hand against his demanding bulge. He couldn't bear to make eye contact with Leo, could only kiss down Leo's chest, tasting expensive fabric and freshly scrubbed skin. Imagining Leo in the shower, washing himself, touching himself, only made Ben's crotch more focused on it's goal of seduction. His hands had buried themselves inside Leo's flimsy sweater, and were now lifting the garment up and off. Even feeling Leo's bare arms sent a chill down Ben's spine.

Ben caught his breath at the sight of the other's man perfect, hairless stomach and pectorals. He could taste the sweaty navel on his tongue immediately, and then did so, shifting his flesh stethoscope down to Leo's dark blonde treasure trail as Leo roughly yanked his dress shirt out of his trousers and over his head. Leo whistled at the highly toned torso too often trapped in heavy suits, admiring the red tint of embarrassment produced by his comment. His brother was a stud.

Ben's hair was severely mussed from the motions of the shirt, and Leo couldn't help running his hands through the thick brown locks, messing it up further. 'Just like an older brother,' Ben thought to himself, his face falling from the sharp tang of bittersweetness. Seeing this, Leo crooked a finger under his chin, lifting him to eye level, fingertips stroking the corners of his mouth and nose. Leo whispered every word, every breath a slight kiss on Ben's pouting, lush lips.

"This is so wrong, but I've never felt more sure of anything in my life. Oh God, Ben..."

He had to have that mouth, that mouth he'd wanted for months, and blood ties became secondary as the two men locked lips. Roughly, desperately at first, tongues dueling and jabbing, then more gently, as their hands ached to explore the different-yet-similiar bodies buried under layers of clothes. Those layers were peeled away as quickly as possible, zippers, boxers slipped off by fumbling hands and feet. When finally naked, the two men stood, examining each other for the first time. Their cocks were lovingly inspected with eager fingers, comparing size and girth. Lanky Leo had the length, while Trey had the thickness. Combing through their respective sacs, tracing a path over taut, tempting thighs, Ben and Leo drank in every inch of each other.

"...beautiful." they heard themselves whispering.

Both in a haze, Ben sat Leo onto the couch, turning him to fully display the proud, jutting bubble butt that had entered his masturbation fantasies night after night, month after month. Never did he think he would be this close, close enough to touch. He did touch, in awe, in love and lust, inhaling at the light tremor down Leo's straight spine as his sweat-moistened crack was scraped by manicured thumb nails.

Seeing, even touching were not enough. Ben leaned over, spreading Leo's cheeks to breathe in the unique smell of musk, soap, and salty perspiration. Leo whimpered and ground his hips into the cushions as Ben's tongue dove into his hole, excavating his most forbidden, darkest crevice. The tongue dug as far in as possible, joined by twisting fingers, until Leo could take no more and rasped out for mercy. Ben heard his sibling's moans to stop and never stop, and broke away, keeping close long enough to bite into Leo's inviting buttocks, leaving a faint mark on each massive mound.

Ben flipped Leo onto his back, locking his knees to his chest. Leaning down to lick away the tears from Leo's haunting eyes, he scooped the pre-cum from Leo's swaying staff to coat his pleading pink cannon.

"I have to do this, Leo, please...please..."

Vision clouded, hands stretching out to steady themselves against Ben's biceps, Leo stretched his neck against the arm of the couch, gasping as a thick, hot crown of flesh nudged into his hole. Ben stroked up and down Leo's chest, whispering in his own language as he inched more and more of his love column inside Leo's waiting, awakening entrance. Pumping Leo's erection in time with the thrusts into his ass, Ben groaned, licking and biting into his bloated lower lip while Leo slowly began to thrust back against his hips, to reach across and paw at Ben's backside, squeezing and pawing the marble cheeks as roughly as his free hand scratched at Ben's eraser tits.

Both weary bodies pulsated to their limit, setting off a minor earthquake, couch springs aching under the weight of their heavy, climaxing bodies. Ben erupted into the snug, slimy chute soon after his tight grip brought Leo to a grunting, splattering orgasm. Ben collapsed on top of him, Leo's juices welding their spent bellies together. Pressing his lips against Leo's heaving chest, Ben pledged to hold on to the beauty of this brief moment forever. As each day passed he was more and more certain that his time was almost at an end, that one thing or another would be ripping him out of the arms of his new family and his first real sense of peace. He did his best to deny that fear, to live for that moment, but could not. All he could do was try to get through every day, and to do right by Leo.

His brother.

His lover.

**

"I told you I'd have the money by...hey, I'm doing my best, OK? Yeah, well fuck you!"

Slamming the pay phone on the receiver, Tim Dillon wanted to punch through the wall. The vultures were never satisfied. He had to eat, but had to have running water and power. Couldn't they give him a break? Of course not, cause he'd never had a break. It was either stay in town and struggle to make ends meet, or go back home with his dad and Janet, the is-she-psycho stepmother he'd never fully accepted.

Tim was so engrossed in his own problems he never noticed the dark eyes scanning up and down his well-proportioned body. Only a squeeze on his shoulder alerted him to the third party beside him in SOS.

"Oh sorry buddy, didn't mean to be a phone hog."

The casually attired man, in his early 50's, dashing, with a touch of grey at his temples, laughed him off.

"No problem. Take this. Call if you're interested. I may be able to help with your financial difficulties."

Glancing down at the small business card in his hand, Tim barely noticed the older man taking his leave. Scratching at his large head of hair, Tim muttered the words on the card.

"Huh...filmmaker. Wonder what kind of movies?"

**

Home again, home again. Tad would have whistled once upon a time, but his days of mirth were long gone. All he could do was eat a tv dinner and retire for a night of sleep and porn, in no particular order.

As he headed into the kitchen, strange sounds emanating from upstairs drew his attention. Taking off his cumbersome jacket, he followed the groans and slapping sounds to their source, the bathroom. Was JR in pain? Had someone broken into the house?

His urge to help or call the police froze up with the rest of him when he reached the barely-open bathroom door. Through the small slit, he saw his stepson's lean arms balanced against the shower wall, his lanky body held firmly in place by two very strong hands. A thick, brown shaft plunged in and out of his tight boyhole, and his pleas for more answered any questions of consent. JR was being...JR was getting fucked?

Tad stared at the image, trying not to make a sound. The best he could do was whisper. That whisper was:

"Holy shit..."

Next: Chapter 8


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