When I was 13 years old, my older brother was just that, my older brother. In the years since we've grown up, we've become good friends, but at the time, he did his thing and I did mine.

That didn't stop me from, like a couple of my close girlfriends, lusting after him. Well, lusting after his body, anyways.

He was a tennis player and looked the part. With long, sun-kissed light brown hair and a buttery tan, he looked as though he just stepped in from the courts from some toney Southern California tennis center. In fact, more often than not, that was pretty much the case.

Although he was an excellent athlete, he wasn't a big guy, about 5'9" and very trim. He had great legs and a butt to die for. I could totally see how my girlfriends, even though they were a couple of years younger than my bro, were interested in the goods. I tried not to let on that I felt the same way, but in retrospect, I'm pretty sure they figured it out on their own.

By the standards of our little town, we were doing okay. We had a nice inground pool with a high wall around it, perfect for skinny dipping, which we'd all done at one time or the other. I know my brother liked to swim in the altogether, though he was pretty discreet and always waited until he was alone, or thought he was.

I came close to catching him one time when he was coming in through the sliding glass door from the pool area. He spotted me in the nick of time–drat!–and pulled his towel over his private parts before I'd gotten much of a look. He laughed and scampered past me and back to his room, but not before I'd gotten a good look at that remarkable ass of his. I can still picture it. Yummy.

Though brief, that encounter left me wanting to see more, much more, and gave me an idea. I don't know if it was wrong or not to plot to spy on my brother, or to actually do it, but I didn't and don't feel any guilt about it. It was all good fun, in my book. I also shouldn't have told my girlfriends all about it, but I did.

In any case, I figured out which day it was likely that I'd be able to catch him again, and I set it up to maximize my chances. And I figured, since I might be enjoying a show, I might as well bring along some friends, Sara and Jeannie, the ones who'd expressed so much interest in my big bro.

The day came when I knew we'd stand a good chance of catching him up to no good, so we all ditched school that afternoon (which was surprisingly to do easy back in the day) and walked the short way back to my house. We holed up in my room, which looked out onto the patio where the pool was, and waited.

We were not to be disappointed. We'd been there waiting in the dark for no longer than 15 minutes when we heard my brother's car pull up and, shortly thereafter, the front door being unlocked. We waited only another five minutes as he did whatever he was doing–getting a soda or changing into shorts and tee shirt, I presume–before music started blasting from the speakers by the pool and the other door leading out to the patio opened and my brother emerged, towel and suntan lotion in one hand, soda in the other and stark naked besides!

He put his stuff down, dipped a toe in the water and then dove in, his lovely white outline clearly visible as he dove below the surface and arced across the pool.

We three had a very good view peeking out between the gaps in the curtains in my darkened room, and were expected to see a little more skin.

What we saw was better, way better.

After swimming around for a bit, my brother pulled himself up along the side of the pool directly in front of us and stood before us, no more than 10 feet away, dripping wet. And we saw it. Still soft and perhaps even shrunken a bit, his cock was magnificent, bigger than most of my boyfriends' when they were hard. And my brother wasn't hard. Yet.

As we watched, he dried off and then laid down in the chaise lounge right there in front of us, letting the hot Southern California sun warm his bones. It's a good thing the glass door we were looking through was thick, or else he would have heard our breathing even over the rock and roll blaring out there.

As we watched he took the bottle of lotion, squeezed a generous amount into his hands and started to apply it to his body. As he did, his cock started to rise . . . without him even touching it!

I glanced over at Sarah, who was next to me, and she was as wide-eyed as I was. I quickly turned back to watch and just in time, too. My brother had just begun to put the lotion on his cock, which started to grow, and grow and grow.

It was incredible, about 9 or ten inches in length and nearly as thick as my wrist. How he'd kept it hidden from me all these years was a mystery. What a specimen.

He wasn't done with the lotion by any means either. As we watched he stroked, and stroked, and stroked. We were riveted.

And as he neared the end, it was so obvious. He breathing grew frenzied and his back arched. We could hear his moans (maybe the reason for the music?) and he started to buck his hips. I was, I'm not ashamed to admit, totally soaked myself.

Then he collected himself, like a spring being compressed, and just let go. My god! What a fountain. He sprayed a couple of very watery spurts and then let loose with several thick white ropes, covering his chest and part of his face in lovely white come, before collapsing, exhausted back in the lounger.

I looked over at Sara and Jeannie and they were both looking at me, gape mouthed and clearly stunned. Jeannie mouthed to me, "Oh my fucking god!" That said it all.

We huddled in my room not saying a word, waiting in the dark, until we heard my brother get into the shower. Then we ran out the front door and across the way to Sara's house, where we spent the rest of the afternoon in shock for what we'd seen and swearing repeatedly that we'd never breathe a word of it to anybody, lest we lose our chance to spy on him again.