Rescue Suck Mission

I ready to take my brother’s cock because I realized how much I owed my brother; how good he’d been in helping me and, for that matter, how much I cared for him.


Hi there, I’m Chris and this is another one of my escapades that I really ought to tell you about.

It started out badly but just got better and better, as you’ll soon find out.

It’s all about my brother and me; we’re both in our early twenties and we’re both single.

Paul’s single by his own choice I think, whereas my marriage ended after three years. I think that we both still wanted our freedom so we eventually agreed to go our own ways. And possibly I’d tried to settle down too early in life; before I’d burnt out my zest for a bit of fun.

Mind you, I don’t think that it had helped when I admitted to her that I was bisexual.

I don’t think that she knew about my sexual viewpoint and it wasn’t until we were divorced that I admitted to being bisexual. And it just as well that I’d kept it hidden because she didn’t take the information well at all; especially once I added that I’d had the occasional tryst with other men before and even while we were married.

Perhaps it was just as well we’d decided to part – I wouldn’t have blamed her for wanting out.

However, once I became single again and feeling remorseful perhaps, I’d sworn off any further male interactions, vowing to stick to ‘normal’ heterosexual activity.

But things have a strange way of turning out and on this occasion the last thing I expected was that a miserable, wild and wet morning would turn into a hot, sticky and sexy afternoon…


Saturday evening’s weather forecast for the week ahead looked decidedly nasty – one depression after another was going to be sweeping across the Atlantic to batter the shores of Britain with gale force winds and heavy rain. The forecasters were full of storm warnings with potential flooding; structural damage to buildings and other dire consequences and outcomes and there was little the forecasters could do to help, other than to advise people not to travel if they could avoid doing so.

But that didn’t help me at all. From Monday, for the next week, I’d be working away from home; travelling some thirty miles to the exhibition centre in the city and back each day as I manned the company stand at the boat show instead of looking after my local branch office. In view of the weather I could well see the crowds being somewhat sparse but the job still had to be done. It was alright for the bosses; they’d be staying at a hotel near the centre, but as their local representative I was required to work from home and to travel daily.

Immediately I had visions of fallen trees and blocked roads preventing me from driving but I’d have to wait and see what the stormy weather would bring…and I’d definitely have to make the effort at any rate.

The whole weekend was boring in the extreme – the weather was already deteriorating; I had no social plans and I had no current partner. I did manage to ‘rub one out’ as a wank is politely described but it wasn’t the same as a good fuck. Even a date and some mutual sex would have been better…but my last girlfriend and I had parted a couple of weeks ago. We’d been bickering on and off because somehow she just didn’t really turn me on these days. It wasn’t that she didn’t look good but when we got into bed, things just didn’t click somehow…

Eventually Monday morning dawned, if that was the right word. Dawn hardly broke; it was dark and dingy with a heavy cloud cover and as I settled down to have some breakfast, so the rain which had already spoilt the weekend was still falling; lightly as I got up but then heavier and heavier. Solid sheets of rain now splashed down and my mind began to become concerned; at the very least the roads would be full of slow-moving traffic with large and disruptive puddles forming at the usual trouble spots.

“Damn – I’d better leave early,” I muttered to myself as I gathered my things together; my briefcase, my laptop, my phone and my jacket and before long I was in the car and backing out of the garage.

The bloody rain was still hammering down and the wipers just about coped with the water; the car almost aquaplaning at times through the already-forming puddles that the drains couldn’t remove.

Ten minutes later and I was on the main road out of town and already we slowed, the traffic moving at a snail’s pace as I’d rather expected.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” I groaned as we ground to a halt, “This is going to take bloody ages – I’m going the other way.”

At the first junction I turned off and headed back across town to the minor road that wandered through the countryside to my destination. On a good day the back road took me somewhat longer than the main road to reach the city but it was a much more pleasant drive. Today however I knew it would be slow, although not as slow, I guessed, as the main road wherein all the traffic had congregated. Far better, in my mind, to be moving, even slowly, rather than be stuck in an everlasting queue…

There was plenty of surface water but I’d expected that, and then, some five miles out of town I met my first hazard; a dip in the road with floodwater right across the road. I slowed and gently ploughed through it, guessing that the water was perhaps almost up to the sill – it must have been nearly a foot deep.

‘Oh well, nothing more than I’d expected,’ I thought, as I motored on.

With the radio playing and the heater blowing and with my mind on the boat show, I tended to forget the ghastly weather outside, my speed increasing somewhat as I progressed.

And as I broached a hill I heard myself humming happily, my mind anywhere but on the road now…but suddenly there ahead of me was another area of water that stretched into the distance and equally suddenly I realised that there was no way I was going to be able to stop before I hit the flood.

I braked hard but immediately felt the car aquaplaning – then with a bow wave fit for an ocean liner I ploughed into the water.

There was this incredibly unpleasant feeling of losing control; of almost floating along; compounded by the sound of the engine dying on me. I gripped the steering wheel hard as I watched as my speed dropping rapidly until I came to a silent standstill surrounded by dirty brown water.

“Fuck it!” I expleted loudly, banging my fists on the wheel, “You stupid fuckin’ idiot!”

So now here I was, well and truly embedded in the floodwater and miles from anywhere. If I opened the door I’d probably let the water pour in and if I got out I’d get soaked by the rain. Not only that, I’d have to stand in the floodwater as well. God – I’d really been stupid; I really should most definitely have kept my mind on the road.

But it wasn’t long before I realised that I’d soon have to take up one of the options…water was seeping in from somewhere and was slowly but steadily beginning to fill the foot well. I lifted my feet clear of the growing puddle but it was a futile effort.

Quickly I realised that I just had to do something – and the idea of calling for help surfaced, but who to call. I checked my speed-dial list and found only my local garage, the one who did all my repairs…but they didn’t answer the phone. I eventually guessed that they’d be inundated by people such as me, so I gave up.

But who else to call?

Ah – my brother – that’s who.

Paul lived some seven or eight miles from where I was and as he worked from home I knew that at least he’d probably be there to pick up the phone, so I rang him.

“Hello Chris!” he answered cheerfully, “How’s things – lousy weather – you keeping dry?”

“Bloody joking mate!” I exclaimed, “I’m stuck.”

“Where – what – how?” he queried, not understanding the gravity of my situation, “What – at home?”

“Nah – I’m down the road about five miles; that back road that goes down by the Queens Arm’s; you know the one,” I told him.

“Oh yeah, I know – down there eh?” he replied, still sounding very bright, “What the hell are you doing there on a day like this?”

So I explained about the main road and about thinking I could take a short-cut and I could hear him chuckling at my stupidity, the rotten bastard!

“It’s not funny,” I said, urgently now, “The fuckin’ water’s coming in the car and it’s pissing with rain and I’m going to get drowned or soaked or both if you don’t come and help.”

“What’s wrong with the garage?” he asked, so I explained that they weren’t answering their phone and he tutted by way of response.

“Busy I guess, not surprising,” he said.

“So can you come out and fetch me, please – pretty please?” I asked, pleading now, “And perhaps you could bring a tow rope too.”

“Guess so,” said my brother, “Can’t let my kid brother drown, can I?”

“Brilliant!” I exclaimed, “Thanks a hell of a lot but please take it easy; there’s water all over the place – don’t want you to get stuck too.”

“What – with my 4×4; you’re joking,” he replied, “Yeah, ok, give me half an hour, ok?”

“Super,” I replied, “But try to make it a bit sooner – the water’s still rising I think.”

We rang off and I relaxed a bit; at least I’d get out of this now although my day had been completely screwed up.

I rang the company and was able to tell them of my predicament – and moments after I’d come off the phone, my boss rang back.

Yeah well, he was none too pleased about it and I don’t blame him, but he was philosophical too, seemingly understanding why it had happened while still berating me for not being able to attend the show. He’d make other arrangements to cover the occasion and told me to count today as a holiday – in other words, he wasn’t intending to pay for my stupidity! But at least he didn’t curse and let rip and I relaxed a bit more.

But I was soon brought back to reality as I felt the car rock slightly; the flood water was definitely still rising and was now threatening to float me away, car and all.

Quickly I wound down the window and surveyed the scene – only to see field after field flooded in all directions and the road nowhere to be seen.

‘Fuck’ I thought gloomily, ‘You really are in the shit now, aren’t you?’

If I didn’t move soon my feet would be getting very wet even in the car so I climbed out of the window and before long I was sitting on the roof in the pouring rain, looking like the proverbial drowned rat and feeling like a complete idiot…and for some ten minutes I just sat there, cursing quietly – until I heard the sound of a powerful motor approaching.

“Thank fuck for that,” I muttered as I saw my brother flashing his headlights at me and soon he’d pulled to a halt perhaps thirty yards from me at the edge of the flood. He clambered out and I saw that he had his wellies on unlike me in my more regular shoes. He also had his waterproof coat on which was providing him with a lot more protection than my jacket was…

“Yo Chris!” he yelled, his voice crackling with amusement, “What the heck are you doing out there?”

“Going bloody fishing,” I replied morosely, “Nothing else to do. Thanks for coming out. How are you going to get me out of this?”

“I’m not – you’re going to get yourself out,” he shouted back, “I’ve got a winch on the front and plenty of cable but you’ll have to fetch it and attach it to your car. Don’t see why I should get all wet.”

“Well, fuck you!” I shouted back but really I should have been entirely grateful – at least he’d turned up and perhaps fortunately he either didn’t hear my retort or else he ignored it.

I gently let myself down from the roof and slid into the water. It felt icy cold and it came up well past my knees too as I stumbled towards him. And I hadn’t moved but a few yards when the road beneath my foot disappeared and I flopped down into what must have been a gulley at the edge of the road that the flood had broken open.

“Ahhhhh!” I spluttered as I splashed and stumbled away, “Fuckin’ bloody hell!”

Quickly I floundered through the water and out of trouble but now I was soaked almost to the waist, not to mention soaked by rain from above. Shaking myself in a feeble imitation of a dog I trudged towards my brother who was now holding up a cable with a large hook on the end, which he handed to me as I reached him.

“Just pull it then hook it on; then you’ll need to take off the brake and steer the car,” he said and I nodded, my lips already chilled and unwilling to form words.

I plunged back into the water, dragging the wire behind me and carefully avoiding the deep gulley; then realised that I’d need to almost immerse myself in the water in order to reach the tow hitch, which extended from the chassis below the car.

I took a deep breath and bent down, immediately plunging into the water which came right over my head and quickly getting lost as I searched for the metal hitch.

I lifted my head up again and took another deep breath then bent down again, better prepared this time. For a little while I fumbled around but I knew more or less where the tow loop was now; then I found it and secured the hook without needing to make a third effort.

I stood again, blowing and shaking water from my face and hair, then waded to the door. It was too much to worry about keeping the door closed so I dragged it open; watching with horror as the water flooded in – it actually even covered the seat, much to my shock. It seemed to be rising quite fast now…the motor wasn’t going to like this one bit.

As quickly as I could I sat in the chilly puddle; released the handbrake, slipped the car out of gear and waved back to my brother and very shortly thereafter I felt a jerk as his winch took up the slack.

At last I was about to get out of this mess, although this was just the start. I was still going to need clean dry clothes; probably a shower and certainly something warm inside me. And then there would be the car to recover…but that was for later.

With some careful steering I managed to get the car up the slope until it was almost bumper to bumper to Paul’s vehicle, then, with the cable wound in he backed his vehicle up the slope until my car was well clear of the floods, at which point he unhooked the wire and stored it away.

He came back and took my keys from my quivering hand, gathered my laptop (which fortunately had been on top of a pile of literature on the back seat), locked up my car and returned.

“Suppose you want a lift home now, don’t you?” he asked amicably and I managed to nod a chilly reply.

“Better come back to my place then; we can get you warmed up quicker there,” he continued as he bustled around at the passenger seat, covering it with several large plastic sacks.

“Ok – come and sit down and try not to get everything too wet,” he said.

I was too tired and cold to care or to reply as I lifted myself into the seat and relaxed at last while Paul closed my car door and locked it.

“Thanks everso,” I managed to say as Paul climbed back in; then began to back up the road until he reached a field driveway which he reversed into.

“Don’t mention it,” he said as we pulled away up the road, “Guess you’d do the same for me.”

“Course I would,” I replied with shivery lips, as we gathered speed, “Anything.”

“Hmmmm, might take you up on that!” Paul replied causing me to look sharply at him, but his face was all smiles so I ignored his comment.

With the heater working full blast I was feeling quite a lot better now and actually found myself dozing off as I sat there, until Paul turned sharply and drove into his driveway.

“Home,” he said, “Come on, let’s get you dry.”

In what seemed to be an instant he was opening my door and helping me out. I was still soaked through and still shivering violently; my legs trying not to hold me up as Paul helped me up the path to his door.

He opened it and propelled me into the house. He slammed the door shut behind us and pushed me on down the hall, then turned me left and into his bathroom.

“Get ’em off,” he instructed, “Everything.”

Too chilled to object I began to remove my clothes but Paul soon saw that my body wasn’t responding properly and reached out.

“Come on – I’ll do that,” he said brusquely as he pulled my shirt off over my head and pulled my shoes off my feet.

A moment later and his hands were undoing my belt and then my trousers; then shortly thereafter he was bent over and pulling my trousers and underpants down and off my feet as I rested my hands on his back for support.

“Haha, look at this little thing!” he laughed, his fingers lifting and teasing my poor little chilled and shrivelled up penis, “What’d you call this then?”

I still shivered despite the room being a lot warmer than it had been outside.

“Can’t help it – I’m fucking freezing,” I managed to say, “You’d be the same.”

“Not entirely sure about that,” Paul replied, “Anyway, let’s get you into a nice warm bath.”

As he spoke he began to run the bath, the hot water steaming up the room quickly although he soon tempered the heat by running the cold water too.

“You don’t need it too warm too quickly,” he said, “Bit later perhaps.”

A few minutes later and his strong arms were helping me to raise my feet and to climb into the bath, the lovely warmth quickly immersing me in its folds.

“Oooooh that’s better,” I shuddered, “Thanks Paul – you’re brilliant.”

“No problem,” he said, “Now stay there and I’ll get you a hot drink – what…coffee?”

“Yeah – white with plenty of sugar please,” I managed to say, “Ooooh, this is lovely.”

I slid down into the warm bath, allowing the warmth to cover my chest – it was blissful!

Not long afterwards Paul reappeared with two mugs of coffee, one of which he set on the side of the bath within easy reach while he sat down on a stool.

“Coffee with a drop of brandy. How are you feeling now?” he asked, his eyes scanning up and down my body, “Ah, you’ve warmed up a bit I see.”

“Eh?” I queried, not knowing how he knew.

“This!” he said and his hand reached down and lifted up my penis, a penis that now looked much more like that of a grown man and not of a baby.

I laughed with him, his hand still holding my cock until I suddenly felt movement within my body. Oh fuck, my cock was feeling much better it seemed and was about to start growing rapidly if he didn’t let go!

“Let go Paul, please,” I pleaded and Paul lifted his hand away to now lift his mug to his lips.

But it was too late – the combination of the warm water and his touch had sent messages to my penis and it was indeed beginning to grow and grow until it was standing proudly above my abdomen.

“Hey, look at that!” said Paul, his eyes locked onto my cock, “Looks like you’ve warmed up quite a bit now!”

“That was your fault,” I answered, knowing that covering my penis with my hands was useless now, “Doesn’t yours do the same?”

“Mmmmm, it does – in fact it’s already done so!” he answered as he stood beside the bath. His hands held the fabric of his trousers – and I glanced up at him.

And there it was; a long ridge in his jeans that was clearly caused by what was obviously a generously sized penis. I felt my mouth fall open before I managed to close it.

“Bloody hell,” I muttered, my interest in the same sex rising to the surface, “Are you bigger than me?”

“Dunno – have to find out,” he said, smiling broadly before sitting down again, “Later perhaps.”

I wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to that comment apart from to try to ignore it and to concentrate on my laced coffee, which flowed glowingly down my throat.

“Mmmm, this is nice,” I said gratefully, “Thanks so much Paul, you’ve been really great.”

“Yeah, I’m like that, but I do expect to get paid,” he replied brightly, “Doesn’t have to be in cash.”

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5 thoughts on “Rescue Suck Mission

  1. elwood says:

    And who don’t love a “Stormy Monday”! Cuz, Tuesday’s just as bad!
    Hot and Zesty story of brotherly love.

  2. Steve R says:

    Hot just like and my brother in high school he went to college and found God and that end are incest times but it fun times now we are married have kids I am still bi love cock

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