The morning light danced through the gaps in the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. I stretched languidly under the soft embrace of my fluffy comforter, feeling the gentle pull of consciousness as my eyes slowly adjusted to the brightness. I couldn't help but let out a content sigh. The pillow beneath my head was like a cloud, cradling me as if it had been designed just for me. Stretching my arms out wide, I felt the lingering warmth of sleep slowly ebb away.
As soon as the fog of slumber lifted from my brain, my mind played back snippets of the previous evening with my dad. I didn't quite believe it had been real, but the feeling he had left behind was impossible to ignore.
The memory of his powerful muscles moving against me was still fresh, the way his eyes had searched mine in the dark, unsure, yet hungry... We hadn't spoken much after we reached our climax, and the silence felt like a bubble of tension waiting to burst.
When he finally let me go, it was with the grace of a silent film star, his movements slow and deliberate so as not to make a sound. His hand lingered on my body for a moment longer than necessary, as if reluctant to break the connection. I watched him as he stepped back, the dim lighting outlining his broad shoulders and the sinewy lines of his back as he reached for his shorts, his chest rising and falling with the heavy breaths we'd both been trying to quiet.
Our eyes met again, and in that fraction of a second, I saw no emotions across his face. I knew he wasn't completely sober, so that he might not fully process what had just occurred between us. It left me feeling a mix of regret and exhilaration, and I couldn't tell if he felt the same. We had both just crossed a line that could never be uncrossed.
He didn't say much as we cleaned up, just a few mumbled instructions about not making too much noise to wake the others. His eyes remained focused on the task at hand, and his expression remained stoic, giving away nothing of what might be happening in his head. The room was now spotless, the evidence of our tryst erased as if it had never happened, but my thoughts were a tumultuous mess as I followed him upstairs.
Now, as I lay in my bed, the great soft warm morning feeling had somewhat dissipated, replaced by a sense of unfinished business that hung in the air like an unspoken question.
I knew that I had to talk to my dad about what had happened, but fear coiled in my stomach, tightening like a fist at the mere thought of broaching the topic.
I turned over onto my stomach, burying my face in my pillow. I thought back to the way he had used his strength, the way I felt so small and delicate beneath him. It was thrilling, and I found myself craving more of that dominance. I had always enjoyed being with big guys, but Hugo was on a whole new level. He was so much more than just muscular; he was dominant, targeted, a real force of nature. The idea that he had enjoyed using that power on me, that he had found pleasure in my submission, was a heady aphrodisiac that I couldn't get out of my head.
My cheeks grew warm as I remembered the feeling of him and my dick grew hard again, begging for release. I was about to give in to temptation, to slip my hand into my pajama bottoms and indulge in the memories of last night, when a sudden sound jolted me out of my reverie. The deep rumble of Zac's voice echoed through the hallway, followed by the firm response of my father's. I couldn't make out many words, but the few that reached me were some workout routine.
I let off the thought of masturbating and decided to stand up as well. My mind was too occupied with the unspoken tension between us, and I had to distract myself somehow. I waited for their voices to fade away, not wanting to face my dad just yet, the weight of our secret still heavy on my chest. After a few minutes, when I was sure they were busy elsewhere, I slipped out of my room.
The house was surprisingly quiet, considering the usual early morning ruckus that accompanied my brothers and father getting ready for the day. As I padded down the stairs in my socks, the faint sound of the TV grew louder, the background noise to Henry's clinking and banging in the kitchen. I rounded the corner and found him in a tank top and shorts that barely contained his massive quads, mixing a thick batter in a bowl with a whisk. His muscular arms flexed with the effort, and I couldn't help but appreciate the view.
"Hey, little bro," he grinned, not looking up from his task. The smile on his face was infectious, and I felt my own lips quirk up in response despite the heavy thoughts weighing me down. "You and dad must have been up late. Didn't expected you to sleep in."
I shrugged, trying to keep my voice casual. "Couldn't sleep." It was the truth, but not the whole truth. "Where's everyone else?"
"Dad and Zac went to the gym," Henry replied, his grin widening. "It's just us two slackers at home." He shot me a wink, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his playful teasing. It was a welcome distraction to the tension that had been simmering between my father and me since the night before.
"So, what's the plan?" I asked, leaning against the kitchen counter. "You whipping up some of your protein pancakes?"
"You betcha," Henry said, a glint of pride in his eye as he tossed the whisk into the air and caught it with ease. "Gonna make 'em extra fluffy today."
We chatted amicably about the simple pleasure of a good breakfast, the comfort of routine in our otherwise testosterone-filled house. He told me about the latest protein powder flavor he'd picked up, which apparently tasted suspiciously like birthday cake, and I pretended to be intrigued by the nutritional details while secretly craving a stack of sugary, syrupy pancakes from the local diner.
"You know, I might just do nothing today," I said, watching as Henry cracked eggs into the batter with surprising gentleness, given the size of his hands. "Just chill, maybe catch up on some TV shows."
"Nothin' wrong with that," Henry replied, his biceps bulging as he whisked the mixture. "But I've got plans." He glanced over his shoulder at me, a twinkle in his eye. "I'm meeting up with some of the guys from the gym. Gonna throw back a few beers, maybe hit the pool."
I nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment. "Sounds like a plan," I said, trying to keep the envy from my voice. "You guys have fun."
As Henry flipped the first pancake onto a plate, I couldn't help but feel a little left out. The house was going to be eerily quiet without the constant banter and competition between my brothers and father, and I wasn't looking forward to the awkward silence that would inevitably descend once everyone was gone.
"Well, if you're gonna be here all day," Henry said, sliding the plate towards me with a knowing look, "you're gonna have to keep me company somehow." His remark was loaded with innuendo, and I couldn't help but smile at his playfulness. It was as if he could read my mind, could sense the unspoken tension that had settled over me like a fog.
"I thought you had plans with your gym bros," I teased, taking a bite of the pancake. It was indeed fluffy, the sweetness of the batter a welcome counterbalance to the bitter taste of my thoughts.
"Well, I can always rearrange those," Henry said, his voice low and suggestive. He stepped closer, the heat from his body almost tangible. "After all, it's not every day I get to spend time with my little bro all to myself." His eyes wandered down to my crotch, and I felt my face flush as I realized the direction of his thoughts. He was already hard again, and his remark was anything but subtle.
I took a deep breath, trying to keep my own arousal in check. "Thought you had a thight scedule," I said, trying to keep the tease in my voice. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards, his eyes lighting up with mischief.
"Well, they wouldn't mind a late arrival," Henry said, his voice dropping a notch. "Besides, if I tell them I got laid, they'd probably just cheer and hand me an extra beer." He chuckled, and the sound washed over me like a warm wave.
"So, if they ask, are you gonna tell them it was a guy?" I prodded, the question hanging in the air like a delicate feather waiting to be snatched away by the wind.
Henry looked at me, his expression unreadable for a moment before a smirk played on his lips. "Only if they ask directly," he said, his voice dropping to a murmur that sent shivers down my spine. "But they usually just want the details. You know like how, where, and for how long." His eyes glinted with amusement as he continued to whip up another pancake, seemingly unfazed by our conversation.
The thought of Henry sharing details of our encounters with his gym buddies sent a thrill down my spine. The idea of these muscular, testosterone-filled men talking about me, about what we did together, was both terrifying and incredibly arousing. It was a heady mix of embarrassment and excitement that made my heart race and my dick throb.
I took another bite of my pancake, the sweetness of it almost too much as I pictured the scene. Henry recounting how his little brother had begged for it, how my body had felt under his massive frame, and how I had moaned with pleasure at his touch. I knew he would leave out that it was me, but he wouldn't leave out the real details, like how my legs had wrapped around his waist, urging him deeper, or the way my eyes had rolled back in my head as he brought me to climax.
The thought of it all was making me harder than the pancake in my plate, and I was pretty sure Henry knew it. He glanced over at me, his eyes dark with lust, and I knew what he was thinking. "So, how about you let me have some fun?" he said, his voice a dropping octave lower, and I swallowed hard.
"You act like you're insatiable for me, Henry," I quipped, trying to lighten the mood as I swallowed a bite of my pancake. I could feel the heat pooling in my cheeks as I said it, my voice a little treacherous than I had intended.
Henry chuckled, his eyes dark with a glint of desire. "Well, you're the one that started it, little bro," he said, turning back to the stove. The spatula hovered over the pan as he waited for the perfect moment to flip the last pancake. "It's not my fault you're so irresistible." His voice was playful, but the undertone was serious, and it sent a shiver down my spine.
"What did I start?" I asked, playing coy despite the fact that my body was already responding to his words. I set my plate aside and stood up, taking a step closer to him and reaching out to touch the small of his back. The muscles beneath his shirt twitched at my touch, and his breath hitched just the slightest.
"You know exactly what," Henry murmured, not taking his eyes off the pancake. He flipped it onto the plate and turned to me, his body towering over mine. He leaned in, and the warmth of his breath tickled my neck. "You're the one who offered it the first time," he whispered, his voice a deep rumble that sent a thrill through my body. "And now, it's only fair that you deal with the consequences."
I stepped back, my eyes giving him a playful challenge. "Well, if that's how you feel, I guess I can't just leave you hanging," I said, my voice dripping with fake innocence. Henry's smirk grew wider as he stepped closer to me, the plate of pancakes forgotten on the counter.
"Oh, you wont regret that," he murmured, his hands landing on my hips. He began to feel me up, his strong fingers digging into my skin as he traced the curve of my ass, his erection pressing into my belly. His touch was possessive, hungry, and it was all I could do to keep from melting into him right there.
I leaned back, my eyes never leaving his, my breath hitching as his hands grew bolder, cupping my cheeks firmly and pulling me closer. "Is that right?" I whispered, trying to stirr up the game a bit more. "But what if I'm not in the mood?"
"Oh, I think you are," Henry said, his voice thick with lust as he ground his erection against me. His hands slid down my body, and before I knew it, he had hoisted me onto the kitchen counter. The coolness of the marble sent a shiver through me, but it was quickly forgotten as Henry's mouth descended on mine. His kiss was possessive and demanding, his tongue exploring my mouth as if he hadn't had his fill of me the night before.
I moaned into his mouth, my hands reaching up to tangle in his hair. His kisses grew more fervent, and he began to pull at my pajama bottoms. "Only mouth for today?" I murmured against his lips.
He nodded, a grin spreading across his face as he took a step back, his eyes raking over my body. "Well, if that's all I get, I'm gonna make sure it's worth it."
With surprising agility, Henry picked me up and carried me to the living room, the smell of pancakes fading as we left the kitchen behind. He gently set me down on the plush couch, and I watched as he knelt before me, his muscular body a stark contrast to the soft fabric. The TV played in the background, but my full attention was on Henry as he began to peel my pajama bottoms down my legs. He took his time, kissing the insides of my thighs, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine.
Once my pants were off, he stood up and pulled off his own shorts, his massive cock springing free, making me gulp. He was already slick with precum, and I couldn't help but stare. His dick was so big, so thick, so... Henry. He grinned at my reaction before climbing onto the couch, his body hovering over mine. His hands roamed my torso, teasing my nipples before sliding down to my cock, which was now fully erect. He took it in his hand, giving it a firm stroke that made me gasp.
"Ready for breakfast?" he asked, his eyes gleaming. Without waiting for an answer, he lined his cock up with my mouth, and I took him in eagerly. His taste was familiar now, a mix of salt and musk that I craved. Henry groaned above me, his hand coming to the back of my head to guide me, to show me how he liked it. And I liked it, too—the feeling of him in my mouth, the power he held over me, the knowledge that I was making him feel good.
I sucked and licked, my tongue swirling around the tip as he grew harder and thicker with every passing second. His grip on my hair tightened, and his breathing grew ragged as he began to thrust shallowly, fucking my mouth like he owned it. The sound of our combined efforts filled the room, a wet smacking noise that seemed to echo off the walls. I moaned around his cock, the vibrations causing him to jerk in my mouth.
I could feel my own cock, trapped between my belly and the coolness of the couch cushion, begging for attention. I reached down to stroke myself, my hand moving in time with Henry's thrusts. His eyes watched me, hooded and filled with lust as he took in the sight of his little brother, eagerly devouring his massive cock.
With a sudden burst of lust, I pushed his hands away from my head, taking control of the pace. I took him deeper, my throat muscles now trained to handle his size. I gagged only slightly as his tip brushed the back of my throat, but I swallowed down the reflex, eager to take him all in. I could feel him pulse in my mouth, the veins in his shaft standing out against the velvety skin.
Looking up at him, I could see the shock and excitement in Henry's eyes as I began to deep throat him with confidence. His grip on my hair loosened, his hands moving to grip theback of the couch. The power had shifted, and he was now at my mercy. I swirled my tongue around his cock, feeling the grooves and the softness of his skin against my mouth. The taste of him filled my senses, and I moaned around him, the vibrations sending a tremor through his body.
His hips began to move in time with my mouth, a gentle rocking that grew more insistent as the minutes ticked by. He was close, so very close, and I could feel the tension coiling in his body. With each stroke of my tongue, each suck and lick, I felt him get closer to the edge. I had become quite adept at this over the past few months, my throat now trained to accommodate his impressive size without much resistance.
The head of his cock hit the back of my throat with a wet smack, and I swallowed around him, taking him deeper than I had ever been able to before. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he let out a low groan that reverberated through the room. My cheeks hollowed out with the effort, and I felt a sense of pride as he grew larger and larger in my mouth, his girth stretching me wide.
I could feel his pulse in the thick veins along his shaft, the head of his cock swelling with each passing second. I knew he was close, so I reached down to cup his balls, gently squeezing them as I sucked harder. He let out a strangled gasp, his hips bucking slightly. I could taste an other wave of precum leaking from his slit, and I swallowed it eagerly, savoring the salty tang.
I had become a master of this particular art, my throat now a willing participant in the dance of pleasure. With practice and patience, I had learned to relax the muscles, to allow Henry's massive cock to slide deep into my throat without choking. The gag reflex had become a distant memory, replaced with the thrill of his satisfaction.
As he watched me with a mix of awe and need, I took him in deeper than ever before. His cockhead nudged the back of my throat, and I swallowed around it, feeling the muscles constrict around his thickness. The sensation was intense, a mix of discomfort and excitement that only added to the eroticism of the moment. His eyes widened, and he let out a strangled moan, his hands gripping the couch cushions as he fought for control.
I could see the veins in his neck bulge as he held back, his teeth clenched tightly. But the fight was futile. With a final, powerful thrust, he gave up, pushing deeper into my mouth with a groan that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul. The first shot of his hot cum hit the back of my throat, and I was overwhelmed, not quite prepared for the intensity of it. I struggled to keep up, my eyes watering as I tried to swallow around his thickness, my nose pressing against his pelvis.
He didn't ease up, didn't give me a chance to breathe. His hips pumped into me, his cock releasing spurt after spurt of his seed, filling me to the brim. The thrill of having him lose control like this was too hot, and I was greeding for it.
My eyes watered and my throat burned, when he finally pulled out, panting heavily, I coughed a bit, swallowing down the excess cum that had leaked into my mouth. Henry looked down at me, a mix of concern and satisfaction on his face. "You okay?" he asked, his voice a little hoarse.
I nodded, wiping at my mouth with the back of my hand. "Yeah, I'm good," I murmured, my voice a little raspy. I couldn't help but smile up at him. "But next time," I added, my voice firmer now, "you're going to have warn me."
Henry's expression shifted to one of surprise, then a slow, knowing smile spread across his face. "I can arrange that," he said, his eyes glinting with a hint of challenge. He stepped back, allowing me to catch my breath and wipe the last traces of his cum from my mouth.
Without bothering to pull his shorts back up, he strode back towards the kitchen, his cock still hard and glistening with my saliva. The sight of him like that, so unabashedly sexual and in control, was incredibly hot. The way his muscular ass flexed with each step, the heavy swing of his cock in front of him—it was a visual feast that I couldn't help but devour with my eyes.
"I've got to get back to my pancake before it gets cold," Henry said, his voice now a deep purr that sent a thrill through me.
But I was to focused on his body to care about the cold pancake. I watched his massive quads flexed as he walked, and I couldn't help but let my gaze linger on the defined V-shape of his hips. His muscular frame was a sculpted masterpiece that I had the privilege of seeing every day, but now, with our moments, it felt like I was seeing him in a new light.
"You're looking pretty hot right now, Henry," I said randomly, my eyes traveling up to his broad chest. He had a smear of batter on his chin, and it was all I could do not to jump over the counter and lick it off.
He looked over at me, a cheeky smile playing on his lips as he held the fork and knife in his hands, a mouthful of pancake. "Thanks, little bro," he managed to say through a mouthful of food. He chewed and swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "You ain't so bad yourself."
My eyes traveled back to his sculpted body, his big quads flexing as he leaned against the counter. His cock had softened slightly, but was still at half-mast, nestled between his thick thighs, and the sight was incredibly tantalizing. The tank top he was wearing barely contained his massive frame, but the smear of batter on his chin made him seem almost boyish, a stark contrast to the raw, powerful man I had just tasted.
"You know," I began, my voice a little raspy from his earlier onslaught, "I'm actually pretty happy with the way things are going."
"Oh?" Henry's eyebrow arched, a playful smile dancing across his features. He took another bite of his pancake, the muscles in his neck worked as he swallowed, and I found myself lost in the movement. "I'm not surprised," he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "You've got quite the talent there." He winked and took another bite, the chewing motion making his jawline pop.
As he spoke, his hand wandered down to his cock, which was still half-hard and glistening with my saliva. He gave it a casual stroke, the movement so natural that it was almost nonchalant. "I mean, I'm not complaining," Henry said with a smirk. "My dick's pretty happy with the arrangement, too. And I gotta say, it's nice knowing I got dibs on you."
I rolled my eyes at his brazenness, but the warmth that spread through my chest was undeniable. "Gee, thanks," I said, trying to sound unimpressed despite the fact that his words sent a thrill down my spine.
"No, really. I mean it," Henry said, his eyes locking onto mine, the playful smirk on his face giving way to something more serious. "There's something about watching you take me in like that, something... I don't know, it's like I'm seeing a whole new side of you." He took another bite of pancake, chewing as he watched my reaction.
The words hung in the air between us, a silent acknowledgment of the shift in our relationship. I knew he meant it—his appreciation was palpable, a warmth that seemed to wrap around us like a blanket. And as strange as it was, I couldn't argue with him.
"I mean, you are still my little brother," Henry said, his tone a mix of affection and something deeper, his eyes never leaving my face. "And if I knew someone else was touching you like that..." He trailed off, his hand still playing with his softening cock. The muscles in his forearm flexed as he stroked himself. "I would feel protective, you know? It's what good brothers do. But at the same time, I can't help but think about how your tight little ass feels." His voice grew gruffer with each word, and my stomach flipped at the thought of him being so possessive over me.
"And what do you mean with that?" I questioned, my voice a cocktail of curiosity and arousal.
"Well, I guess what I'm trying to say is," Henry began setting down his plate, "when I'm home, and you come walking through, my eyes can't help but track you." He took a sip of his shake, his eyes lingering on me over the rim of his glass. "You've got a nice ass, bro," he said with a smirk, the casualness of his words sending a jolt of electricity straight to my groin. "And those hands of yours, they're... well, they're pretty good at what they do."
I blushed, but didn't look away from Henry's intense gaze. "What do you mean?"
His eyes searched my face. "It's just, we're brothers," he began. "And what we're doing... it's not supposed to be like this. But I can't get enough of it, and I don't know what to make of it.I don't just see you as my little brother anymore, at least not all the time."
His eyes searched mine, and I could see the conflict playing out on his handsome, yet slightly confused, face. "Don't get me wrong, you're still the same person to me, but whenever I'm feeling horny and I see you at home, my eyes follow you and I know, if I just asked, you'd help me out. It's strange to say, but that's just how relationships are, and it's messing with my head a bit."
I nodded in understanding, a smile playing on my lips. "You don't have to overthink it, Henry," I murmured, my voice soothing and soft. "We don't need a label for this. What we do is between us, and as long as it feels good, then let's just keep doing it. You can focus on your needs and desires, and I'll be here to... manage the rest."
His gaze searched mine for a moment, a mix of relief and hunger in his eyes. "Yeah," he said, his voice back to it's usual stupid emptiness that I found so strangely attractive. "As long as I get your sweet mouth around my dick every once in a while, I can deal with that." He chuckled and took another sip of his protein shake, his eyes finally leaving my face.
I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction at his words. It was as if I had been granted a sort of power over him, a control that I hadn't known existed. I knew that I was playing with fire, that our relationship was already teetering on the brink of something forbidden, but the thrill of it was too much to resist.
"Don't worry, Henry," I whispered, sliding off the couch and moving towards the kitchen. "As long as you keep looking so good, I'll always be at your service." My hand reached up to caress his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my fingertips. His heart beat steadily against my palm, a comforting rhythm that seemed to match the throb of my own desire.
He took another sip of his protein shake, his eyes never leaving mine. "You really mean that?" he asked, a smile playing on his lips. Without waiting for an answer, he set the shake down and flexed his massive biceps, the muscles bulging and straining against his skin. It was a move so ridiculous, so utterly Henry, that I couldn't help but laugh.
"Oh, you think it's funny?" He took a few steps towards me, his muscles rippling with each movement. "You're just jealous because you don't have guns like these."
I smiled, the lightness of the moment a stark contrast to the intensity of what we had just shared. I stood up from the couch, my own body buzzing with a mix of arousal and fascination. "What, these?" I said, reaching out and giving his bicep a gentle squeeze. "I'm not jealous at all. After all, I can have your 'guns' whenever I want," I said, my voice a playful purr as I stepped even closer to him. And without waiting for his reaction, I leaned in and kissed the bulging muscle, feeling him felx under my lips. I felt his arm tensing under my touch, and heard a gruff sound that was half surprised, half pleased. I felt a thrill run through me, and instincively, my hand reached down to grab his meaty package.
He didn't resist, instead leaning into my touch with a quiet moan. "You're a fucking tease," he murmured, his eyes glazed over with lust. I kissed my way up his bicep, my hand moving to his cock, which was now fully hard again. I gave it a gentle squeeze, feeling a bead of precum appeared at the tip.
With a wicked smirk, I stepped away from him, my hand still wrapped around his shaft. "You're right," I said, my voice a breathy whisper. "But isn't that half the fun?" His eyes followed my every move as I let go, watching his cock bob in the open. I turned to walk away, my ass swaying with each step as I headed towards the stairs.
"Where are you going?" Henry called out, his voice a mix of confusion and need.
"Upstairs," I said, not looking back as I began to ascend the staircase. "But remember," I called over my shoulder, "you better put your shorts back on before Dad and Zac get back." I knew the sight of Henry's bare ass and thick cock was something dad and Zac didn't need to see.
As I reached my bedroom, the sound of Henry's chuckles followed me, and I couldn't help but grin to myself. The thrill of leaving him like that, desperate and hard, was a delicious form of torture—like dangling a steak in front of a lion and then walking away. I knew he'd be thinking about it, wondering what I had in store for him the next time we found ourselves alone. It was a power play, and one I thoroughly enjoyed.
