I ignored his comment and made my way towards the stairs. The thrill of the encounter with Zac was still pulsing through me, making it hard to focus on anything else. But I had to keep playing it cool. I had to keep them guessing.
When I finally reached my room, my heart was no longer racing, and the realisation that Zac had just demanded a blowjob from me, had sunk in. I leaned against the closed door, taking deep breaths, my hand unconsciously drifting down to the bulge in my pants. The flutter in my stomach was something I hadn't felt before, but it wasn't love, it was pure, unadulterated lust. The kind that made my knees weak and my breath come in short gasps.
But just when I was about to open my pants and start a little wank, I heard a snore echoing through my room. My eyes shot open in surprise. The sound was unmistakable, and from there, it only took me seconds to realize that I had Mason in my bed. The memory of our conversation and his lingering glances rushed back to me, and another mix of excitement and lust washed over me.
I had never been in a situation like this before, with someone who was clearly interested in me, someone who was so obviously into muscular guys like my brothers and, by extension, my father.
As I walked over to the bed, I couldn't help but stare at Mason, sprawled out on my bed, fast asleep. His broad shoulders rose and fell with each deep breath, his muscular arms folded behind his head. He looked so peaceful, so... tempting. The sight of him, combined with the residual lust from my encounter with Zac, had my cock throbbing with need.
I really don't know what Mason's intentions were when he accepted my offer to stay in my room, but as I stood there, my hand still on the doorknob, I couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation at the prospect of finding out. The way he had looked at me earlier, the way his eyes had lingered on my body as we talked and cleaned up, had my mind racing with possibilities.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm the storm of emotions that were swirling inside me. It was pointless to speculate, I told myself. I would just have to wait and see what tomorrow brought. But as I stared at him, sprawled out on my bed like he owned the place, I couldn't help but wonder what kind of man he was. Was he the type to take what he wanted without asking? Or was he more of a gentle giant, coaxing it out of you with sweet words and a knowing smile?
With trembling hands, I began to strip down to my boxers, my erection tenting the fabric. I couldn't believe I was about to sleep in the same bed as this gorgeous specimen of a man. My mind was racing with all the things I wanted to do to him, all the ways I wanted him to use me. But I knew I had to play it cool. I couldn't just jump his bones the moment he woke up, no matter how badly my body was begging me to.
I made my way to the ensuite bathroom, the cool tiles feeling like a balm against my overheated skin. I closed the door behind me, the sound echoing in the quiet room. The bathroom light was a stark contrast to the darkness outside, and I couldn't help but look at myself in the mirror. My body was flushed with excitement, my cock standing tall and proud.
I knew I had to take care of this situation before joining Mason in bed. The last thing I needed was for him to wake up to me humping the mattress like a crazed teenager. So, I turned on the faucet, letting the sound of the running water mask my movements. I pulled down my boxers, gripping my cock tightly and began to stroke it. The tension of the evening had built up to a crescendo, and it didn't took me long to reach the brink of release.
I closed my eyes, thinking of Zac's powerful body, his cock in my mouth, and the smug look on his face. I stroked faster, my hand a blur, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps. And then, just as I was about to come, I imagined it was Mason's cock I was worshiping instead. The thought of his muscular body, his arms wrapped around me, his voice whispering sweet nothings in my ear, sent me over the edge. I came hard, my hand tightening around my shaft as ropes of cum shot into the sink...
Afterwards, I cleaned up hastily, washing the evidence of my desire down the drain. My heart was still racing, but the urgency had passed. I dried my hands and took a deep breath, steeling myself for the moment of truth. With a quiet confidence, I stepped out of the bathroom and made my way to the bed, where Mason lay unchanged, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.
I laid down beside him, my body still humming with the aftershocks of my climax. Mason's rhythmic breathing was the only sound in the room, his presence a comforting warmth beside me. My thoughts were holding me awake for a while, but when I fell asleep, it was a deep, relaxing sleep.
The next morning, the sun pierced through the blinds, and I woke up to the sound of my bedroom door creaking open. It was Henry, his eyes scanning the room before landing catching my own. He gestured with a tilt of his head, a silent command for me to follow him outside.
I slipped out of bed and threw on a hoodie, beofre I tiptoed out of the room, careful not to wake the sleeping hunk, and followed Henry into the hallway. I closed the door softly behind me and turned to Henry.
"You had fun last night?" Henry asked me with a knowing smile, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
"What? No," I replied, trying to play it cool. "Mason and I just slept. Nothing happened."
Henry's smile grew wider, his biceps flexing as he leaned against the wall. "Just slept, huh?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"
I rolled my eyes, trying to keep my cool. "Positive. He passed out before anything could happen."
"Well, that's too bad," Henry said, his voice thick with amusement as he folded his arms over his broad chest.
"And you? I have seen you with a chick last night," I said, feigning nonchalance. "How did it go?"
Henry's eyes widened, and he took a step closer, his grin turning into a sly smirk. "Oh, you saw that, huh?" He leaned in, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. "It was wild, bro. But she couldn't handle all of me. Could barely take half of it before she was at her limits."
The image of Henry, muscular and unbridled, fucking some unsuspecting girl in the backyard made my stomach churn. I knew it was mostly jealousy... "In the backyard?" I echoed, my voice showing more of my mood than I had intended.
"Yeah," Henry said, "But you know I wouldn't mind to take advantage of your skills again, Dylan." He said, and I couldn't help but smirk at his words.
"I was good at it, wasn't I?" I asked him, my voice low and confident. "Not many people can take a cock like that without gagging."
"You were amazing, but as good as it feels, I do need a real fuck every now and then," Henry said, his voice a mix of affection and desire. He stepped closer, his muscular frame casting a shadow over me.
I felt a twinge of possessiveness at the thought of him with anyone else, but I knew it was part of the game. "So, you're saying my mouth isn't enough?" I teased, raising an eyebrow.
"It's just different, you know?" Henry said, his eyes meeting mine. "But I'm not complaining." He added, taking a step back.
I nodded, understanding his meaning all too well. "Yeah, I get it."
"But let's not get ahead of ourselves," Henry said, his tone turning serious. "I actually came to ask for your help."
I looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"
"Well," Henry began, "You know how dad gets when he sees a mess. And with the party and everything that happened, we've got a lot of cleaning up to do before he gets back from his trip."
I sighed, the reality of the situation setting in. "Yeah, I know." I had almost forgotten about the chaos we had left behind in our living room. "But we had already done so much last night."
"I know," Henry said, rubbing the back of his neck. "But Zac and his friends... they didn't exactly leave it spotless."
"Great," I groaned, the thought of cleaning up after those jocks not exactly thrilling. But the mention of our father was a sobering reminder of the stakes. Dad was a stickler for cleanliness, and if he found out what had really gone on, we'd all be in deep shit.
We padded down the stairs, and to my surprise, Zac was already in the living room, a trash bag in one hand and a broom in the other. He had done a lot of the cleaning, which was unexpected given his usual lazy attitude towards such tasks. The room was barely a mess anymore, with only a few items scattered around.
"Looks like we've got a head start," Henry said, nudging me with his elbow.
Zac looked up from his task, "Yeah I have some favors to return," he said with a wink in my direction. The tension from last night still hung in the air, but it seem like Henry was oblivious to it.
"Good," Henry said, clapping Zac on the shoulder. "Because Dad could be back any minute."
Tigether as three, we tackled the last remnants of the party. The tension from the night before had not entirely dissipated, but we worked in a kind of silent harmony, each of us lost in our own thoughts. The occasional smirk from Zac was enough to keep my blood pumping, but I remained focused on the task at hand.
Once we had restored order to the living room, we made our way to the backyard. The couch cushions were damp with dew, and the smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke lingered in the air. But it was nothing a good scrub and some fresh air couldn't fix. We worked quickly, tossing the garbage and straightening the furniture until it was as if the party had never happened.
When the three of us were done, we all needed a shower. As I mad my way back to my room, the thought of Mason sleeping in my bed was the last thing on my mind. My body was slick with sweat from the exertion of cleaning and the grime from the night before.
I made sure to tiptoe, not wanting to wake the sleeping guy. Carefully, I grabbed a jockstrap and a shirt from my drawer, feeling a little thrill at the idea of wearing something so overtly sexual. It was like a silent declaration of intent, a promise of what was to come when he finally woke up.
The fabric was soft and cool against my skin as I slipped it on after the shower, the jockstrap hugging my ass and package snugly. I took a moment to admire myself in the mirror, before Imaking my way back to the bedroom.
As I pushed the door open, I saw Mason, his eyes wide with surprise and lust as he took in my near-nudity. He had rolled onto his side, his phone forgotten in his hand as he stared at me. The noise of the shower had clearly done its job, and he was now fully awake and very aware of my presence.
"Good morning," I said, trying to sound casual as I stepped into the room.
Mason's eyes followed my every movement, his gaze lingering on my ass before finally meeting my eyes. "Morning," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep and something else, something that had my pulse racing.
I strolled over to the dresser, feeling a sense of power that I hadn't felt in a long time. "Did you sleep well?" I asked, my voice a low purr as I opened it.
Mason's eyes never left my body, his gaze burning a trail over my bare skin. "Yeah," he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep. "But now, I'm definitely wide awake."
The room was filled with the scent of my shower gel, the steam from the bathroom clinging to my skin like a second layer. I could feel his eyes on me as I took my time, picking out a pair of clean shorts and some socks. I turned my upper body to face him, smiling coyly as I noticed where he was looking. "Like what you see?" I teased, tugging at the waistband of the jockstrap.
Mason's cheeks flushed a delicious shade of red as he swallowed hard. "I've... uh, seen jockstraps before," he stammered, trying to play it cool as his eyes hungrily took in the sight of me. "Being on the football team and all, it's not like they're a rare sight."
I chuckled, basking in the power of the moment. "Yeah, I figured," I said, turning away from the dresser and walking over to the bed, while pulling on the shorts.
"So," I said, my voice light and airy as I straightened up and turned to face him. "I was thinking of making a big breakfast for the guys. You know, eggs, bacon, the works." I raised an eyebrow, my smile turning into a smirk. "If you want, you can join us."
Mason's eyes lit up, and he sat up, his abs flexing as he propped himself on his elbows. "Sure," he said, his voice a rumble of agreement. "But only if I can help."
I smirked, dropping the shorts and turning to face him fully. "Oh, I'm sure you can," I said, walking closer to the bed. "You know your way around a kitchen?"
Mason nodded, his eyes dark with desire. "Yeah," he said, his voice low and gruff. "I know a thing or two about."
"For example?" I asked, my smirk growing as I sat down on the edge of the bed. "What's your specialty?"
Mason's gaze never left mine as he replied, "Well, I know how to work with buns and eggs, and let's just say I've had my fair share of practice with sausages. But since they are more of an English breakfast staple, I'll stick to the basics unless you want to spice things up."
The double entendre hung in the air, and I had to adjust the bulge in my pants as the tension grew. I chuckled at his response. "I think we'll stick to the basics for now," I said, playing along. "But who knows, maybe we'll get adventurous another time."
I stood back up and looked down at him. "You can ask Zac for some fresh clothes and take a shower," I said, my voice casual. "I'm sure he won't mind sharing."
Mason's eyes narrowed slightly, but he nodded. "Okay, I'll do that." He slid out of bed, and my eyes couldn't help but hang on his sculpted body, not massive like my brothers', but fit and athletic with a good definition that made my heart race. He stretched, and the muscles in his back and arms rippled, showcasing his own brand of strength and sex appeal. It was clear that he took care of himself, and the sight of him was a delicious appetizer to what the day could hold.
He didn't give me much time to eye him up as he was quick to gather his clothes and walked towards the door.
I followed Mason out of the room, his barely-covered body a tantalizing vision of potential. His underwear hugged his firm ass perfectly, showcasing every contour and curve as he moved with a confident grace that made my mouth water. He didn't bother with a shirt, his chest bare and glistening.
"See you in a bit," I called after him, before heading downstairs to the kitchen.
The aroma of sizzling bacon filled the air as I cracked eggs into a hot pan. I had become something of a breakfast maestro over the years, turning the mundane task into an art form. The sound of the eggs hitting the hot surface was almost musical, and the way they curled up at the edges was a sight to behold. The crunch of toast popping up from the toaster was the only other sound in the kitchen, a testament to my practiced efficiency.
When Mason finally made his appearance, I had already set the table with plates, cutlery, and a steaming stack of pancakes. His eyes widened at the spread, a hint of surprise in his gaze. "Wow, you weren't kidding about the big breakfast," he said, his voice not carrying a hint of recent sleepiness.
"You know, practice makes perfect," I quipped, flipping a pancake with a flourish. "And I've had a lot of practice cooking for my brothers."
Mason chuckled, sliding into a chair at the kitchen island. He had changed into one of Zac's old T-shirts, which clung to his muscular frame in a way that made my mouth water. "Well, I can't say I'm complaining," he said, watching me with a mix of admiration and desire that had my cheeks heating up.
The two of us continued to prep the meal in a dance of sizzling pans and clinking dishes. Mason proved to be surprisingly adept in the kitchen, taking over the task of flipping the bacon and making sure each strip was perfectly crisped to perfection. His biceps flexed as he worked the spatula, and I couldn't help but watch him.
Eventually Zac entered the room, he only made a short remark on the fact that Mason has slept here and walked over to the fridge to grab some orange juice. He didn't seem too surprised that Mason had stood infront of his rooms door.
"So, what's the plan?" Zac asked, taking a swig of his drink.
"We're making breakfast," I replied, keeping my eyes on the stove. "Mason offered to help."
Zac's eyes flicked to Mason, then back to me, and I knew he was wondering if we had something going on last night. But all he said was, "Cool." He leaned against the counter, watching us work with a smug smile on his face. "Looks like my little brother's got a knack for keeping the big guys happy."
I rolled my eyes at him, flipping the bacon with a little more force than necessary. "Shut up, Zac."
Mason chuckled, his deep laugh resonating through the kitchen. "Don't worry, Dylan," he said, his voice smoother than the whiskey he'd had the night before. "I had a pretty good sleep last night."
Zac's eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer to us. "Yeah?" he said, his voice low and challenging. "How good of a sleep?"
Mason's gaze flicked to Zac for a brief moment before returning to me. "It was a good night's rest," he said, his voice casual.
I tried to ignore Zac, focusing instead on the eggs. "Breakfast will be ready in a few," I said, sliding the bacon onto a plate.
Mason took the plate from me and set it on the counter, his hands brushing against mine in a way that was definitely not accidental. "Let me handle that," he murmured, his eyes locked on mine.
"Thanks," I murmured back, my cheeks heating up as Mason's touch lingered for a moment longer than necessary.
I couldn't help but enjoy the way he was playing along, his flirty demeanor setting my nerves on edge, and Zac's eyes were on us, watching every move like a hawk. He didn't say anything more than a grunt of acknowledgment before turning to grab a plate, but there was definetly something brewing in his gaze.
It was like the events from last night had made him figure out my secret obsession with a certain kind of men and he wasn't going to let it slide without poking the bear. But I was playing it cool, my eyes never leaving the frying pan as I cooked.
"You two can sit down," I said, gesturing to the table with a flourish. "I'll call Henry down. It seems like Dad won't be home early, so it's just us four for breakfast."
Zac's smile didn't waver, but I could see the curiosity in his eyes. He took a seat, and Mason followed suit, placing the plates of food in front of them with a flourish. The air was thick with unspoken tension, but also with the tantalizing smell of the breakfast we had prepared together.
Henry was downstairs in no time, his footsteps heavy on the stairs. he didn't comment on anything as he took his seat.
The four of us sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the clinking of forks and knives against plates. The hunger from last night's escapades had sharpened our appetites, and the breakfast spread was demolished with the same ferocity that had been displayed in the living room the night before. Zac took a large bite of his bacon, his eyes flicking up to me with a smug grin, as if to say, "This is what a real man eats."
Mason, on the other hand, took his time, savoring each bite as he watched me, his eyes dark with a hunger that had nothing to do with food.
Henry, for his part, was quieter than usual, his eyes flicking between me and Mason. I couldn't read his expression, but the way he looked at us was enough to make my heart race. He seemed almost jealouse, but said nothing, just shoveled food into his mouth with the enthusiasm of a man who had worked up a serious appetite.
"Ah man, that was a great breakfast," Zac said, leaning back in his chair, his plate empty except for a few crumbs. "But now I'm beat. Fucking party cleanups."
"Yeah, it was pretty wild," Mason agreed, his eyes lingering on me a bit longer than necessary as he took a sip of his coffee. "But worth it."
"I'm just happy no one broke anything," Henry chimed in, his tone light, but his gaze intense as it swept over me. "Could've been a real mess."
Zac leaned in, his forearms bulging on the table. "You know, Dylan's got a real talent for making things...comfortable," he said, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he took a sip of his coffee.
Mason chuckled, oblivious to the undertones of Zac's words. "He does," he agreed, his eyes still lingering on me. "I slept like a baby last night."
"Yeah, well, Dylan's got a way with... certain things," Zac said, his voice dropping to a murmur that only I could hear. He winked at me, and my cheeks burned with the unspoken meaning behind his words.
I took a quick look at Henry and Mason, who were both engrossed in their breakfast, seemingly oblivious to Zac's suggestive tone. I had to give Zac credit; he was playing it cool, keeping his teasing just subtle enough to avoid raising any alarms.
"Yeah, Dylan's always been good at making sure everyone's happy," Henry said, his eyes meeting mine for a brief moment before looking away, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.
I rolled my eyes threyer innuendo, playing along with the charade. "Thanks, guys," I said, feigning innocence as I cleared the plates. "It's just what a good brother does."
Mason's hand brushed against mine as he passed me his empty plate, sending a jolt of electricity through me. "You're not just a good brother," he whispered, his breath warm against my ear. "You're a master chef."
I couldn't help but laugh, the tension in the room momentarily broken. "Thanks," I murmured, my voice low and intimate. "It's all about knowing your audience."
We cleared the table together, Henry and Zac chatting amicably about the party and the various escapades that had taken place. I focused on my task, stacking plates and cups, trying to ignore the flutter in my stomach every time Mason's hand brushed against mine. He was playing it cool, too, but I could feel the interest simmering just beneath the surface, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.
When we had finished cleaning up the kitchen, Mason glanced at his phone. "I should probably get going," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine. "We've got a game this afternoon and I still need to do some stuff before that."
"Alright," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "It was nice having you over."
Zac's eyes twinkled with mischief as he looked at Mason. "You can thank me for bringing him over," he said, slapping Mason on the back. "But if I had known that you would get along so good with my little brother, I would have thought twice..."
Mason's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't say anything. He knew Zac was baiting him, trying to get a reaction. "It's all good," he said, his voice cool. "We had fun."
Zac chuckled, his hand still on Mason's shoulder. "Yeah, you two had a blast," he said, his eyes flicking to me.
I watched the two stand next to each other as Zac decided to avoid the awkward moment that was brewing. He patted Mason on the shoulder. “Come on, I’ll walk you out,” he told him, a smug grin playing on his lips.
Mason's eyes winked at me as he followed Zac out of the kitchen. The two of them continued to talk infront of the door, their conversation filled with low chuckles and knowing glances that I couldn't quite decode. They both turned to me, smiling before Zac opened the door.
"Thanks for the amazing breakfast," Mason said, "See y'all." He gave me another wink abefore stepping out the house. Zac closed the door behind him and made his way back towards the table. Thats when Henry leaned back in his chair with a dramatic sigh.
"Damn, I'm beat," he announced, rubbing his eyes. "Think I'm gonna go crash for a bit. ThenNight was pretty wild."
I nodded, "Yeah, it was pretty wild," I agreed, trying to keep my voice even as my mind raced with the images of the previous night. "You guys go ahead and chill. I've got some things to do around the house."
Zac clapped a hand on my shoulder as he passed me, giving it a squeeze that was just a little too firm. "Take it easy, little bro," he said, his eyes gleaming. "We'll catch up later."
I knew exactly what Zac meant, and his shameless teasing was starting to get under my skin. It was clear that he hadn't missed the tension between Mason and me, and he was more than happy to stir the pot.
But he wasn't about to let me win. Last nights event had left him in a particularly good mood, and it was clear he was going to milk this for all it was worth. He winked at me, the kind of wink that made me want to strangle him.
I answered Henry absently, my thoughts still on Zac, while Henry disappeared up the stairs.
After he went upstairs, Zac followed me to the living room, his footsteps heavy behind me. He plopped down on the couch with a sigh, picking up the remote. "I guess I'll watch some TV," he said, his eyes glinting with amusement. "You keep doing what you do best, little bro. Make sure everything's spotless for the men of the house."
I bit back a retort, knowing it would only fuel his fire.
"So, what's on?" he continued while flipping through the channels.
I sat down on the opposite end of the couch, my feet on the couch, facing toward Zac. The tension coiled in my stomach, the unspoken event of last night hung in my head like a thick fog, refusing to dissipate.
Zac flipped through the channels, tossing out random comments about the TV shows. It drove me nuts. The elephant in the room was the size of a fucking blue whale, and he was acting like he hadn't noticed it.
"You know exactly what's on my mind, Zac," I said, my voice a mix of annoyance and amusement. "Why don't you tell me what got into you last night?"
Zac didn't seem to care too much, his eyes flicking to me before returning to the TV. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice casual. "I enjoyed an okayish blowjob from you. Nothing to write home about, really."
But I knew better. I had heard the way his breath had hitched and the way his body had tensed up as I had worked my magic. I had seen the look of pure pleasure on his face when he had climaxed, and it was a look I had become quite familiar with over the months. So, when he said it was 'okayish', I knew it was his way of keeping up the macho façade.
Zac had always been the alfa in the house, the one who felt the need to assert his dominance. But in that moment, I had an oppertunity to take some of his macho attitude away from him.
I leaned back on the couch, my legs stretched out, and watched him pretend to be unfazed. "You know what I mean," I shot back, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "The fact that you made your little brother suck you off. Is that how you impress your football buddies?"
Zac's hand paused on the remote, and he looked over at me, his eyes narrowing. "What's your deal?" he said, his voice a low growl. "You liked it, didn't you?"
I ignored his comment, knowing I had hit a nerve. "I didn't knew you had to impress Jason to keep your alpha status. But if you're worried about it, I'm sure you'll come up with something," I said, a smug smile playing on my lips.
Zac's grip on the remote tightened, his knuckles turning white. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he snapped, turning to face me fully.
I met his gaze, my own smile widening. "Oh, come on," I said, feigning innocence. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. You had to bring Jason into the mix to prove something. It's all just a little game of who's the biggest, right?"
Zac's jaw clenched, and I could see the anger rising in his eyes. "What the fuck do you know about games?" he spat. "You're just a little gay guy who thinks he can play with the big boys."
"Why are you so angry? I thought I did a pretty good job last night," I said, a smug smile playing on my lips as I watched Zac's reaction.
Zac's eyes narrowed, and he turned to face me fully, the remote forgotten in his hand. "What the fuck is your problem, Dylan?" he asked, his voice tight.
"No problem," I said, shrugging casually. "Just making sure we are on the same page." I could see the cogs turning in Zac's head, trying to figure out what I was playing at. But I wasn't about to let him off the hook. "I mean, I didn't want to assault your manhood in such a way that you would make me give you a blowjob in front of your teammate," I said, my voice light, yet dripping with the sweetness of a well-placed insult.
Zac's grew angryer with every word I said. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he growled.
I looked at him, my heart racing. "Just that you're trying to prove something," I said, my voice steady despite the way my pulse was pounding in my ears. "And I'm not going to be part of your little power trip."
That was the moment Zac's temper snapped. He shot up from the couch, his knee coming down hard on the part of the couch in front of me as he leaned over. "What the fuck did you just say?" he snarled at me from above, his breath hot on my face. as he leaned in, his face a mask of fury. "You think you're so clever, don't you?...But you're just a little faggot who needs to know his place."
"You want me to admit something?" He continued, his eyes boring into mine. "Fine. The guys practically forced us to talk last night, and we figured out that we both had a taste for... let's call it 'dominance'.The team expects us to get along, and so we found a way to deal with it without fighting." He leaned closer, his voice a low growl. "And that way just so happens to include you."
I swallowed hard, my heart hammering in my chest. "What do you mean?" I managed to get out, my voice barely above a whisper.
Zac's smirk grew wider. "You're smarter than you look, Dylan," he said, his eyes glinting. "Jason and I both like to be in charge. And instead of fighting for the top spot, we figured out that the only way to deal with it... was to not fight each other." He leaned in even closer, his breath hot against my cheek. "We found something we both enjoy," he murmured, his hand sliding down to my thigh. "And that something just so happens to be watching you perform."
I felt a shiver run down my spine, despite the strange feeling that was bubbling up inside me. It was a twisted kind of thrill, knowing that my older, more muscular brother found pleasure in watching me service him and Jason.
But I wasn't about to let Zac see how much his words affected me. "So, what? You're just going to use me whenever you feel like it?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
Zac's smirk grew into a full-blown grin. "Oh, when I saw you in the parking lot, I knew exactly what you liked," he said, his hand squeezing my thigh. "The way you couldn't take your eyes off of Jason, the way you continued to do what you were told... Mhh, It was pretty fucking obvious."
My face flushed hot, a mix of anger and arousal. "What do you want from me?" I snapped, pushing his hand away from my thigh.
"You wanted me to admit something. Now it's your turn," Zac said, his upper body looming over me, trapping me between him and the couch.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. "It's no secret that I love sucking cock. Hell, I'm gay; it's what I do... But I dont get why you'd use me for your little show," I told him, looking him straight in the eye.
Zac seemed to enjoy the discomfort his words brought me, his smile widening with each twitch of my expression. "You suit my plans perfectly, Dylan," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "You're obedient, you're gay, and best of all, you can't get knocked up. So, what's the problem with a little family bonding?"
I stared at him, his hand still resting on my thigh, the weight of his admission pressing down on me like a lead blanket. "So, what, I'm just a toy for you and your new friend now?" I asked, trying to keep the anger out of my voice.
Zac's smile grew even more smug. "More like a mutual... interest," he corrected. "Someone we both enjoy watching."
I rolled my eyes, pushing his hand away from my thigh firmly. "You're disgusting," I said, trying to hide the thrill that shot through me at the thought of being the center of attention for both of them again.
"Am I?" Zac chuckled, leaning back into the couch. "Or are you just upset that you like it?"
I felt a surge of anger, but I knew he was right. I did like it, and he knew it. It was the same thrill I got from watching them both, the power dynamic playing out before my eyes. "What makes you think I like it?" I challenged, my voice shaky.
Zac leaned back, his arms crossing over his broad chest. "Because you always play along, Dylan," he said, his voice calm and collected. "You do everything we ask without question. You cook, you clean, you... entertain." He paused for a moment, his eyes roving over my body. "You're a people pleaser after all."
I knew he was right, but I wasn't about to admit it. At least not with words.... Instead, I leaned back into the couch, crossing my arms and looking away. "Whatever," I muttered. "Just don't expect me to jump up when you tell me to."
Zac chuckled, moving back towards his original spot on the couch. "Oh, I have a feeling you won't disappoint." His eyes flicked to the TV. "But for now, let's just keep this between us, yeah?"
I nodded, "I didn't plan on telling Dad," I said, not trying to hide the irony in my voice. "It's not exactly the kind of thing you share at the dinner table."
The tension between us grew had decreased rapitly and as if he had been waiting for our conversation to end, my father's key turned in the lock. The sound echoed through the house, a stark reminder of the reality of our situation. Both Zac and I turned towards the door, our eyes widening in a silent 'oh shit' moment.
"Dad's home. I guess our talk's over for now," I murmured, as the reality of our situation crashed down on me.
Zac nodded, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Yeah, we don't want to keep the man of the house waiting," he said, standing up and stretching. He took a step towards the door, his muscles flexing with each movement.
I watched Zac greeting dad at the door, making sure to show off the clean living room, his posture relaxed yet proud of the job we had done. I took advantage of the moment to slip away unnoticed, retreating upstairs to get some peace after the thrilling morning.
The sound of their voices grew fainter as I reached the top of the stairs, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of uncertainty for the inoffical arrangement Zac and I had. It was better to keep it buried, at least for now.
I went into my room and collapsed onto the bed, my thoughts racing. But it wasn't long until I then fell back asleep, my body and mind desperately craving the escape that slumber offered. I didn't dream, my mind was too tired to conjure up anything coherent.
The weight of the mattress beneath me and the softness of the pillow cradled my head for a while longer, my body still trying to process the events of the morning. When I finally managed to open my eyes, the sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow through the blinds. I reached over to grab my phone, which was lying on the nightstand, and groaned when I saw the time. It was already midday, and the house was eerily quiet.
As I sat up, the gravity of my conversation with Zac hit me like a ton of bricks. I scanned the messages on my phone, my eyes landing on one from my dad. "Dylan, I'm heading out to grab some groceries. You guys must have had a wild night. Don't worry about groceries, just get some rest. Text me if you need anything tho," it read.
I felt a pang of guilt for deceiving him, but quickly pushed it aside. This was the life I had chosen, and for now, it was better to keep it hidden. I slipped out of bed, my body feeling both drained and strangely energized by the morning's events. I decided to take advantage of the quiet house and grab a shower, the hot water washing away the lingering tension and sweat from the night before.
As I stepped out the shower, I noticed my bathrobe was missing from its usual hook. With a sigh, I wrapped myself in a towel and padded back to my room. But as I pushed the door open, I froze. There, sprawled out on my bed, was Henry, his muscular body on full display in nothing but his underwear. He looked up at me with a lazy smile, and it was clear, that he had waited for me to finish my shower.
"Comfortable?" I asked, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.
"Very," Henry drawled, his eyes raking over my body, the towel barely covering me. "I thought now that the bed wasn't occupied by two anymore, I could pay it a visit." His tone was thick with innuendo, and I couldn't help but blush at his blatant reference to Mason.
I knew what Henry was getting at with that smug look on his face. "So, you want to blow off some steam, huh?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
He nodded, his eyes full of the usual anticipation. "I figured you wouldn't mind," he said, his voice a low purr that sent a shiver down my spine. "You always seem to enjoy our... little sessions."
I couldn't argue with that. There was something about Henry's simple, straightforward approach to sex that I found oddly comforting. It was uncomplicated, a stark contrast to the complex dance of desire and dominance that existed between Zac and me.
"Look, Henry," I said, holding up a hand as I tightened the towel around my waist. "I'm still pretty wiped from last night."
"Oh come on, Dylan," Henry whined, his eyes never leaving my body. "I already got all worked up waiting for you. Just a quick one, I promise." He pouted, his bottom lip jutting out slightly, making him look like the adorable puppy he had been named after. But despite his boyish looks, I knew the animal he could be in bed.
The truth was, I was still sore from the night before, my mouth feeling like it had been through a marathon with a particularly large... er, mouthful. But Henry had a way of making everything seem so simple, so easy. And a part of me didn't want to disappoint him, especially after the way Zac had used me. It was a strange dynamic, one where I was both the powerless participant and the one in control. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to decide what to do.
But before I could respond, Henry had jumped off the bed and was standing in front of me, his hand reaching for the towel. "I've got an idea," he said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Since you're all freshened up from the shower, you can just lie down and relax. I'll do all the work. You know... we've had fun together without you having to lift a finger. I don't mind to repeat that."
He flexed his muscles, and I couldn't help but admire the play of light on his bulging biceps. It was true that he had always been more than eager to take the lead in our encounters. And as I thought about it, the idea of not having to do anything but lie there and take it sounded... surprisingly appealing.
"Fine," I said, a hint of a smile playing on my lips.
As if on cue, Henry's face lit up with excitement. He stepped closer to me, wrapping his strong arms around my waist, and before I knew it, he had lifted me off the ground. I gasped in surprise as he scooped me up like a bride, his muscles flexing with the ease of the motion.
"Let's go," he murmured, his breath hot against my ear as he carried me towards the bed. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my heart racing with a mix of excitement and apprehension. It had been a while since Henry had been so... eager.
He laid me down gently on the bed, his eyes scanning the room. "Where do you keep your toys, Dyl?" he asked, his voice husky with desire.
I pointed to the drawer beside the bed, and Henry pulled it open with a sense of excitement, his eyes lighting up like a kid in a candy store. "Oh, you have quite the collection," he murmured, his fingers tracing over the assortment of vibrators, dildos, and lube.
"Pick your favorite,"I said to give him the freedom to choose, knowing he would like it even more if he picked something that would please him.
He pulled out a shiny, black butt plug, and I couldn't help but smirk. "If you're planning on having some fun with my ass today, I'm not sure that's going to cut it," I said, referring to the modest size of the toy. "I've had a bit more... experience in that department."
"Oh," Henry said somewhat suprised, his hand lingering on the plug before setting it aside. He rummaged through the drawer with a glint in his eye, as if searching for the perfect weapon.
"You might want to settle for something that dosn't need to stay put," I said with a smirk, watching him. "You know, since you want to play around there a little bit..."
Henry grinned, catching my meaning instantly. He tossed the plug aside and grabbed a bottle of lube instead. "You're right, I might not need toys at all.... 'll just leave the toys out this time" he said, his voice thick with desire.
He climbed onto the bed, his muscular body straddling mine, and his hands began to explore my chest, his touch sending waves of heat through my body.
For the first time ever, his mouth descended on my nipples, licking and sucking with surprising skill. It was a sensation that I hadn't anticipated, one that sent bolts of pleasure straight to my cock. I moaned, arching my back, my eyes rolling back in my head as he played with me. The sensation was heavenly, the feeling of his strong hands on my chest and his tongue on my sensitive flesh was a revelation.
He watched me, his eyes half-lidded with lust, as he took one of my nipples into his mouth, sucking hard. The feeling was intense, and I couldn't help but let out a soft cry of pleasure. It was as if he had discovered a new toy and was eager to explore every inch of it.
"Ahhh," I groaned out again. A minute in I already knew that my sensitive state would make it easy for Henry to make me moan. I knew it would feel a lot better if I didn't have to hold back, so I had to ask. "Is anyone else home?"
"Nah," Henry said, not even bothering to stop his ministrations to answer. "Zac's at training, and Dad went shopping. It's just us."
With that reassurance, I let myself sink into the mattress, my eyes sliding shut as Henry's tongue traced a wet line down my stomach. He was clearly enjoying himself, and the sound of his satisfied grunts only served to fuel my arousal. His rough hands skimmed over my body, teasing and prodding at my thighs, my stomach, my chest, but deliberately avoiding my hardening cock.
I didn't mind Henry's avoidance of my cock; in fact, the anticipation of what was to come was thrilling. His rough hands continued their exploration, his eyes dark with desire as he looked up at me from my chest. "I'm going to turn you around now," he said, his voice gruff with excitement.
My heart skipped a beat as I nodded, the towel slipping away from my waist. He positioned me on my stomach, his strong hands guiding my legs apart, and the coolness of the sheets against my bare skin made me shiver. I felt vulnerable, exposed, but in the best way possible. Henry's weight shifted on the bed, and I knew he was settling behind me.
He took off his boxershorts and tossed them aside, the fabric landing next to my head. "Is it okay if I eat you out?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate through the very bed itself.
I nodded, "Mhhhm," my heart hammering in my chest as I felt his hands spread my cheeks apart. The coolness of the air was replaced by the warmth of his breath against my skin, sending shivers down my spine.
"Ready?" I nodded again, burying my face in the pillow. The first touch of his tongue was tentative, a gentle lick that had me gasping for air. But as he grew bolder, his strokes grew longer, his tongue delving deeper. I moaned into the pillow, my body writhing under his touch.
My eyes squeezed shut, I could feel my toes curling with every pass of Henry's tongue. He was taking his sweet time, savoring me like a delicious dessert, and I couldn't help but be incredibly vocal about it. The sounds that came out of my mouth were a mix of pleasure and need, a symphony of lust that seemed to echo through the room.
"Oh, fuck," I moaned, my hips bucking upward involuntarily as Henry's tongue hit my prostate. I didn't bother to muffle my voice; the house was empty, and the only thing I wanted was for him to hear how much I enjoyed it. Each stroke was a masterpiece, sending waves of pleasure crashing through me. I knew he was watching my body's reactions, his own excitement growing with every noise I made.
"You're so good," I panted, my voice muffled by the pillow. "I love it when you do that."
"Mmm," Henry murmured, the vibration of his voice sending a fresh wave of pleasure through me. "I can see that," he said, his tongue swirling around my hole before pulling back with a wet pop.
I watched him over my shoulder, his face flushed and eyes gleaming with desire. He looked like a massive bull, his muscles rippling as he held himself back, his cock standing tall and proud. The sight of him like that, so primal and eager, had my own cock throbbing in anticipation.
I was in awe of Henry as he pulled away from my body, his tongue retreating from my aching hole. He stood behind me, his muscles continued to ripple as he looked down at me.
The image was undeniably erotic, and I felt my body responding in ways I never had before with him. Henry's cock was massive, it was clear he was more than ready to have some fun for himself. But he held back, his hand hovering over my ass, and his eyes glued to what layed beneath them.
"You can stop if you want. You don't have to continue if you dont want to," I murmured, feeling a bit self-conscious despite the intense pleasure Henry's tongue was giving me.
"No way," Henry replied, his voice thick with arousal. "Your skin's so soft here, Dyl. It's... it's like nothing I've ever felt before." His tongue darted out to give my hole another teasing lick, as if to emphasize his point. "It's not lame at all. It's... it's hot."
With a smirk, I looked over my shoulder at him. "You're pretty hot too, you know," I said, trying to keep my voice steady as he continued to work me over. "Standing there, all tall and proud... you really are a great brother."
He chuckled, the sound low and deep. "Thanks, Dylan," he said, his eyes still focused on my ass. "But do you want me to keep going with my tongue, or would you prefer my fingers? I kinda want to go deeper," he says before adding sheepishly "you know... to wear you out a bit."
I couldn't help but laugh. "You go ahead," I said, my voice tight with need. "Do whatever you want." I told him, the words feeling like a dare.
Henry's grin grew wider as he repositioned himself, his hand replacing his tongue. He slicked his fingers with lube, the sound of it squelching in the quiet room making me quiver. I watched him starting with one, pressing it gently against my opening, feeling myself relax as he pushed it inside, the sensation foreign yet welcome after the relentless tongue work. He began to pump it in and out, his movements slow and steady, giving my body time to adjust.
I turned my head back. As much as I enjoyed watching Henry's biceps bulge and flex with every movement, the sensations that were building inside of me made me loose my mind. His finger slid in and out of my ass with ease, each thrust sending shivers down my spine. The sight of his muscular arm, his bulging bicep straining with the effort of controlling his movements, was almost too much to handle. But I knew that if I kept my eyes on him, I'd come undone faster than I wanted to.
So, I laid my head back into the cushion, focusing on the feeling of his finger inside of me. The way it stretched me, the way my body responded to his touch. It was as if he had complete control over me, and in that moment, I was perfectly okay with it. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, letting my body relax completely.
He didn't ask for permission to push another finger inside me. Yet he did it, slow and steady. I gritted my teeth, biting back a gasp as he began to move them in a steady rhythm. It wasn't gentle, but it wasn't painful either—just a firm assertion of his desire. I could feel his ring finger brushing against my entrance, the pressure building, hinting at what was to come.
"You're so tight," Henry murmured, his voice strained with restraint. "It's like you were made for me to open up."
I couldn't help but let out a whimper of pleasure at his words, my body responding to the sensation of his thick fingers stretching me. "You're pretty good at it," I said, my voice pure pleasure.
"Thanks," Henry chuckled, "I don't mind to return the favor for once. You're always so good at taking care of me." His voice was filled with satisfaction as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of me, the pace picking up as my body grew more accustomed to the sensation.
"And I have to say," Henry continued, "it's pretty hot having you like this. Most of the time, you're the one calling shota, but now..." He trailed off, his fingers slowing their rhythm before coming to a stop. "Now, you're all mine to play with," he said with a grin, his teeth gleaming in the light.
I felt a strange mix of pride and vulnerability at his words. "If it's what makes you happy," I said, turning my head to meet his gaze, "you can do whatever you like."
The words were barely out of my mouth before Henry took them as an invitation. He leaned down, his huge cock laying down on my back as he reached closer towards my head, "You know there is something I've been wanting to try," he said. His voice already hinting at the naughty idea he had in mind. "But I know you said no to that before."
I swallowed hard, feeling the heat of his shaft against me. "I already told you, Henry," I murmured, my voice shaking slightly. "It's not that simple."
He leaned closer, his hand moving to caress my cheek. "I know, Dylan," he said, his voice soothing. "But I want to fuck you so bad. And I promise, I'll go slow, I'll prep you as much as you need."
I felt a shiver of anticipation mixed with fear at his words. Henry had never been this persistent before, and something in his tone made me believe that he would indeed push his luck today. "Okay," I whispered, the word barely leaving my lips.
He looked surprised for a moment, his eyes widening before a wolfish grin spread across his face. "Thank you, Dylan. You are the best."
With that, he kissed me between my shoulder blades, his hot breath tickling my skin as he pulled away. His fingers were replaced by something much larger, something that made me tense up instinctively. But Henry didn't rush, he took his time, whispering sweet nothings into my ear, his thumb gently stroking my cheek as he coaxed my body to relax.
"Lie on your back," he murmured, his voice a seductive command. "I want to see your face when I fuck you."
I obeyed, my body trembling with anticipation and nerves. The bed dipped as Henry positioned himself between my legs, his muscular thighs pressing against the backs of mine. He took a moment to admire me, his eyes raking over my body with a hunger that made me feel exposed and desired.
He took the lube and generously coated his cock, his hand working the slick substance along the shaft with a practiced ease. I watched as he approached my ass, the tip of his dick glistening in the soft light of the room. He pushed it against my entrance, and I felt my body tense up reflexively.
"Relax," he murmured, his voice a low, steady rumble. "I'll go slow."
And he did. Henry's cock was thick, much thicker than anything I'd ever had inside me, and I felt every inch as he pushed it in. He took his time, watching my face intently for any signs of pain or discomfort. The stretch was intense, but the lube helped, and his gentle coaxing whispers were surprisingly soothing. He paused when he was halfway in, giving me a moment to adjust to the feeling of being so completely filled.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.
"Yeah," I murmured, my voice tight with the effort of holding back a moan. "Keep going."
With a nod, He pushed in further, his eyes never leaving mine. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling the pressure build as he stretched me wide. When he was fully sheathed, he gave my ass a gentle slap, making me yelp. "Ready?" he asked, his voice thick with lust.
"As ready as I'll ever be," I replied, my voice a breathless whisper.
With that, Henry began to move, his thick cock sliding in and out of me in a rhythm that was at once agonizingly slow and yet maddeningly perfect. Each thrust sent a shockwave of pleasure through my body, making me arch into the mattress. His eyes remained locked on my belly, watching as it rose and fell with every movement, his expression a mix of fascination and lust.
As Henry's strokes grew faster, his gaze never left my stomach. I couldn't help but wonder what it was about that part of my body that held such a captivating allure for him. Was it the way my muscles tensed with every thrust, or the way my stomach bulged as he pushed deep inside me? The question lingered in my mind, a silent whisper amidst the symphony of pleasure that was building within me.
My eyes followed the line of his body, from the broad expanse of his shoulders to the narrowing of his waist, the beefy but defined V of his abdominal muscles leading down to his hips. Henry's thighs were like tree trunks, the muscles flexing with each powerful stroke, his ass clenching with the effort of pushing into me. The sight was almost too much to handle—his body was a work of art, sculpted by hard work and genetics, and here he was, using it to claim me in the most primal of ways.
His biceps bulged as he held himself up, the veins in his forearms standing out as he changed the angle of his thrusts. Henry was definetly not one of those peek fucker that just slapped it in and out, no he was in it for the long haul. Each stroke calculated to reach the deepest part of me, his cock sliding out almost entirely before slamming back in.
Every time he bottomed out inside me, my eyes would roll back in pleasure. The feeling of his massive cock reaching so deep inside me was indescribable. It was like nothing I had ever felt before. The way my body stretched around him, the way he filled me up so completely was overwhelming.
I watched in amazement as Henry's body moved with a grace that belied his size. His muscles rippled and flexed with every thrust, his abs tightening as he pushed into me. Each movement was calculated to hit that perfect spot, to make me moan and whimper. And with every stroke, I could feel my body growing wetter, my walls clenching around him.
"I'm... I'm gonna cum," I panted out, my voice barely above a whisper. The pleasure was building, a coil of heat and need in my belly that was threatening to consume me.
"Good," Henry grunted, his eyes dark with desire as he watched my face contort with pleasure. "I want to feel you cum around me."
His words sent a fresh wave of arousal through me, and I knew that I wasn't going to last much longer. The tension in my body was reaching a fever pitch, my muscles quivering with the effort of holding back.
"Ahhhh, Henry," I moaned, my voice high and desperate. My body was tightening around him, my muscles clenching in anticipation of the climax that was about to overtake me.
"Cum for me, Dylan," Henry growled, his own need clear in his voice. "Cum for your big brother."
The words sent me over the edge. My body tightened around him, and with a scream that was equal parts pleasure and relief, I came. The orgasm was like a tidal wave, crashing over me and leaving me trembling in its wake. My vision swam, stars exploding behind my eyelids as I lost myself in the sensation.
I could feel the heat of my cum spurting out, coating my stomach and chest. Henry's grip on my hips tightened, his own moans joining mine as he watched me come apart beneath him. He didn't stop moving, his strokes growing more erratic as he chased his own release.
He continued to pound into me with that same, delicious ferocity, his eyes never leaving my face, drinking in every gasp and whimper. With each thrust, I could feel my body tightening around him while his muscles bulged and flexed. His face a mask of concentration and pleasure as he drove deeper into me, pushing me and himself to the limit.
As the tension grew, so did the intensity of his movements. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room once again. And then, with a final, guttural groan, he buried himself to the hilt, his thick cock pulsing as he came deep inside me. I could feel the warmth of his cum filling me up, and for a moment, I swore I saw my belly bulge under the force of his release.
The image was so vivid, so intense, that it pushed me over the edge once more. My body convulsed around him, my orgasm crashing over me like a tidal wave, my muscles tightening and releasing in a symphony of pleasure. I threw my head back, my eyes squeezed shut as I let out a scream that was muffled by the pillow beneath me.
The feeling of Henry's warmth filling me up was indescribable. It was like nothing I had ever felt before, and it only added to the intensity of my own orgasm. His body shuddered with the force of his release, his muscles tensed for a long moment as he emptied himself into me.
Finally, he pulled out, and we both collapsed onto the bed, our bodies sticky with sweat and lube. The sheets were a mess, a testament to the passion that had just unfolded between us.
We laid there, both of us panting and sweaty, the aftermath of our intense encounter painting us in a glow of passion and satisfaction. Henry rolled over to his side, watching my demolished self next to him. His chest heaved with each breath he took and the smell of our combined arousal lingering in the air.
I couldn't help but let out a lazy, contented smile, I was wiped out in the best way possible. Henry's heavy panting next to me was a comforting sound, a reminder that he was just as drained as I was. We laid there, the only sounds in the room being our uneven breaths and the occasional drip of cum from my ass onto the messy sheets.
After a moment of blissful silence, Henry spoke up, his voice still thick with lust. "We're definitely doing that again," he said, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "You felt so good, Dylan. So tight, so warm."
"I didn't think you'd last that long," I quipped, still trying to catch my breath. The compliment brought a flush to my cheeks, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride that I had been able to satisfy him so completely.
"Fuck, Dylan," Henry said, his voice still rough with passion. "That was... that was amazing. We have to do that again ." he repeated, almost to himself.
I rolled over to face him, my body feeling like it had been put through a wringer. "Yeah," I agreed, "we definitely should."
