I Can't Sleep

It's getting late. After midnight. I was kind of hoping to get to bed late or something so I wouldn't have to deal with him.
As I get to my room, our older brother, Owen, comes out. Since he's been over, we've had to share our room with him, just like when we were younger. We always have to do that whenever he's over. But this time, he'll be here for a while, since he only recently finished his second to last semester.

It's not an issue, to be honest. He doesn't do anything that my dad and my uncle doesn't already do. Well... It is an issue, actually. Especially when I want to go to bed. He's like 6 ft tall, thickly built, so it's not an easy task overpowering this asshole. It's been like this for the past five-or-so years. I dress down to my shirt and boxer-briefs, and little would I know this was always the signal for him. That's when he'd come in and get me.

So now, walking to my bedroom, the two of us come face-to-face, and he stops me before I can walk past him. With his two large hands, he holds my face, laughing. He talks very softly, "just relax, I just wanna have some fun with you...for a while."

"So...you always have to do stuff like this huh?" my other brother, Mason, says. The middle brother, he's more, I think the word is 'cynical,' and too mature to partake in these dumb antics himself. He sits at the desk with his laptop, not caring. "Are you gonna make him pass out again?" Mason rolls his eyes.

Owen smiled as his other little brother spoke, ignoring him while watching and enjoying the growing inner panic on my face. Owen sticks his hand down his sweatpants, rubbing his sweaty balls and all around his taint, holding my head still with his other hand.
Removing his hand from his sweatpants, he plants it right on my face, and the smell of his sweaty balls rubs up my nose. I try to turn my face away, but I can't compete with the grip on my head. The musky hand is caked in the aroma of testosterone, marking my face with its repugnance. He continues to hold his sweaty hand on my face, repeatedly bringing his grody fingers under my nose, smiling while I panic.

"Let me hear you smell." He says,
I know what I'm smelling -- possibly hours of Summer-sweat -- those musty balls trapped in his jeans and underwear, rubbing against his thick thighs.

He wipes his sweaty hand all over my contorted face, laughing at me while try to get away.
"Yeah, I know it's pretty bad, I only get to shower for special occasions nowadays."
The revolting smell makes me cough.
"All right, calm down and play it cool." He says, gently smacking me on the cheek a few times.



These are the kind of interactions I deal with. I mean, I'd rather deal with this than some of his other pranks –My heart almost stops thinking about it that way. But...he does it SO often. All the fucking time, it's pretty degrading.

He leaves the room, heading to the kitchen. I want to go get something to drink, but he's there. Well, screw it, I don't wanna sit here and be afraid of him. Maybe I'll get a soda or water.
He's right in front of me. I look up at this tall, stocky, man. Ugh, why is his size standing out more today? It's probably his torn sleeves. They make his arms look even better. And I think light-blue jeans make thighs look more sizeable by default anyway...I'm sorry. If you couldn't tell by now, I can be kind of scatterbrained at times. I don't know why I'm like this now.

He scratches his beefy ass, drawing my focus to it. His ass is pretty mesmerizing, holding my attention. 'It's getting bigger, is he pointing his ass at me?' He sticks his butt out, catching me off guard. My stomach touches it, and then he farts for about 10 full seconds. I do take a small step back from him, but end up standing there, taking it in stride and disgust. The gas touches and coils around me, and the smell hits my nose immediately. All before his fart stops.

"Ah, you took that like a champ" he reaches out and rubs the top of my head. So I shake my head away from him. He swaggers to the fridge, keeping his eyes on me as he chuckles through a smirk.

"There's nothing more manly than a dude cutting a fart," he says as he grabs a beer from the fridge, lifting his right leg to fart again.
"What is wrong with you?" I ask, the smell spreading across the kitchen.
He sighs, relaxed, and sniffs the air, "ripe." I look him in the face, but when he looks back at me, I look away.
My dick hits the corner of the kitchen counter-wait, what? My cock is raging! But all I can think is 'what the fuck!? Now?? Again??' I try to position myself in every way so I can just get something to drink. I try and focus on whether I want water or soda, asking myself over and over until my wood goes back down.
'Soda will keep me up...do I even want to stay up now? I should just go to bed and avoid any chance of...'
And just like that, now I'm harder.
'Okay...but if go to sleep too early, he'll...'
And I'm harder. Anytime I mull over all the things he could do, It only gets worse. As he makes his way down the hallway, he farts with each step. Makes me even harder.
I grab some water and follow. The smell is so strong, meaty, and earthy. He's standing in the doorway, blocking my entry. Staring at his huge back, I can't believe how big my brother's gotten since he moved on campus.

"I had tons of pizza while I was out." BRAAAAAAAAP! He lets out the rest of his fart right in front of me.
Half way through, Owen notices me behind him and swivels his hips a little, continuing. "Heh, can you tell?" He asks rhetorically
I dry heave on Owen's vicious gas.

“You’re such a dick” I say before swinging a punch at Owen's big ass. Owen doesn't move, he takes it, flexing his rock hard ass just in time. My hand hurts now.

Owen reaches back and starts wafting the lingering fumes towards me. “Ah what’s the matter buddy? This is how my ass says it missed you.” I roll my eyes while...trying to hide my hard on.

When we get to the room, he strips to his black tank and get boxer-briefs. He starts to close the blinds, and as he stretches forward to twist the handle, the massive bulge in his pants makes itself visible. Why am I noticing this? Looks like he has a very sizeable cock. I'm stuck between looking at that and his very hairy legs... and arms. After the blinds close, he cuts a 5 or 6 second fart. Ugh, he's so fucking gross.
Mason shakes his head in disgust. I'm actually kind of tired, in fact all I want to do now is go to bed. Maybe I should've gotten that soda to stay up. Just in case, since he'll probably get me while I sleep anyways.

Before I know it, these two big hands grab me. They tug the back of my shirt and pick me up. Owen, he's got that look in his eye. The look he gets whenever he's ready to fuck with me.

He shoves me down, gets on top of me, and wraps his hairy thighs and legs around my head and neck. I think it's called head-scissoring. It's like my head is locked. I grab these legs as my hands keep reaching for whatever they can to stop him. His muscular thighs firmly press against my head, forcing me to look directly towards his butt in his black undies. 'please don't fart, please, don't fart, please don't fart!' is all I can think.

His powerful, hairy thighs have me restricted for a time I can't possibly tell you, but the entire time my field of vision is nothing but his two meaty cheeks. Getting up, he holds my head with both hands. He pulls me to the edge of the bed, and forces my terrified face deep into the crotch of his black underwear. He holds my legs up while I breath against his covered crotch. This makes him laugh in an incredibly deep voice.

"You sound like a psycho.." Mason says,
That almost made me laugh, but I can't shake my focus away from this treatment. It reeks in a way that makes me feel absolutely ridiculous. Mason, why isn't he...he's not going to help.
"I wonder what it's like for the little guy, to be helpless and trapped like this" Owen says.

The way he's speaking about me makes me cringe as I think of my situation through his words...my face pressed against the steamy crotch of my bully big college-grad brother. He chuckles any time I struggle against him. He starts rubbing his groin all around my face. It's like he's dry humping my face with his musky crotch...and nobody is coming to stop him.

With a little grunt, Owen unleashes a dry, low-sounding, raspy fart that stuns me with its volume. He gets up.
"Oh no, wait," he Instantly presses his ass against my face, leaning back as I yell and gasp against the seat of his pants, moaning into his butt cheeks,

A loud fart vibrates against my face, and my cries are muffled by Owen's cheeks, as well as all of the laughter coming from Owen, and Mason. He gets off me, and I get up coughing.

"Guess it's gonna be that kind of night, eh little man?" Owen mocks me as he aims his butt at my face.
I whine, "aw, come on! I just wanna go to bed."

"No point in crying about it, assface," he laughs,
"I've been farting all night, I was bound to get you at one point or another." He gently taps his ass in my face. "Gonna be hundreds of farts. Suck it up and be grateful."
"You fucking weirdo," I say before he sits square on my face.

He pushes his ass down, cutting a hot, wicked fart right on my nose. No shame whatsoever. As I fight back, Mason gets on top of me, holding me down to help our older brother. Why? Why is he doing this? He says he thinks it's stupid, but then he always helps my brother! He's lying.

"prrrrrrrrrooooooooooooorrrrrp!" Eww, it reeks! 'Oh my god,' I gag. It smells so bad! My eyes water from it. The heat of it burns my face.

He farts again. I hold back my disgust as tears fill my eyes from the ferocious smell.
"Jesus Christ," Mason says in regards to Owen's fart.
I can't get out. He buries my face, sitting sidesaddle on the bed, knowing that I'm inhaling the damp scent of his massive ass. His cheeks instinctively clench on my tiny face below him, and he moans and sighs, sticking his hand in his undies and scratching his big nuts as I panic and struggle. I turn my face to the side and receive a moment of relief, only to have the massive bully bring my
face back into the upright position to resume the nasty face-sit.
He bounces his ass on my face without mercy, his muscular cheeks spreading and pulsing in excitement. I'm pleading for freedom. For clean air. He lifts up to hear my pleas for mercy, and then muffles them under his big ass, over and over again.
PPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRR

The fart comes out much louder than I thought it would. It vibrates deep into my face. Mason burst out laughing while I whimper and cry in Owen's ass. How can Mason be laughing while these nasty fumes fill the room? I buckle around, making the bed shake a bit, but I can't get out from them. They know there's nothing I can do to get my face out of his ass. Even if I could, Mason is making it so I'd have an extra obstacle in the way. If Owen wants to fart directly in my nostrils, he can. And definitely will.
Owen grinds his ass around a little before sitting still. His tight underwear holding in the moisture of his ass crack sweat up against my nose. Owen leans forward, scrolling through his phone. He slowly let out a thick, toxic silent fart. The stench of the one fart gets stronger. It's getting more and more intense as seconds pass. His ass heats up, and I start to retch under him.
I can barely think, and I can't see anything but his butt. Isn't Mason getting bored? Get off!

"Owen let me out, please!"

"Huh?" He looks around, pretending that he was alone, "That's funny, I could have sworn I heard some little girl say something,"

"Owen I'm serious," I plea, "Your farts stink really fucking bad, I need a break,"
PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

I scream up Owen's ass. Owen smirks. "That had to taste bad…HGGH”

FFFFFFFHHHHHHMMMMMMRRRRRRR

Owen drops a 6 second, growly fart on me that stinks worse than the one before it.

"Ugh, oh man," Mason coughs from the suffocating smell and gets off of me.

I can't tell if Owen is annoyed by this it not, but he finally stands up. He looks down at my face, which is wet with tears. My eyes are burning red. He sits on my lap, keeping me down.

“Listen,” He nods encouragingly, “You’re feeling a little embarrassed, but that’s okay, that’s totally normal. It’s less embarrassing than last time though, isn’t it?" I reluctantly stay still.
"You’re getting used to it: your neural pathways are rewiring each and every time it happens. Don’t fight it,” He shakes his head, “give in, it’s easier that way, isn't it?”

“Yeah,” I shrug, but nod, “I mean, I guess so.”

“You guess so?” He sounds annoyed, “That sounds a little like resistance to me. If you ‘guess so’ then I ‘guess’ you need more. Is that what you want?”

I shiver and shake my head, “No, please. You’re right. I swear I’m not resisting.”

“Uh huh,” He doesn’t sound convinced "You know, maybe you should sleep with dad tonight. Give you a break." He says. This is very out of character for him, but anything to get away from his ass. He gets up and so do I.

With them off, I slide out of there with my pillow. Despite how horrible the past three hours had been for me, At least it's over. I probably absorbed every single fart. The smell is fresh in my nose...