The next day, I woke up with a soreness that lingered like the echo of a particularly intense workout. The feeling was concentrated in my ass, a constant reminder of Zac's rough, claiming fuck. I stretched languidly, my body still humming from the night's activities. It was more than just physical; it was a mental ache... I still did not know how the thing with Henry got me worked up enaugh to behave that way with Zac. I had been the one to provoke him, to push his buttons. I did it with a reckless abandon that was unlike me, but remembering the feeling of his long cock inside me, the way his hand had gripped my neck, I couldn't find it in myself to regret it.
I rolled over so I was lying on my stomach, giving my butt a chance to relax for a moment while I reveled in the delicious soreness that still lingered from Zac's punishing fuck... He had drove me to leave his room after he finished, his voice thick with a mix of satisfaction and urgency. "Get out before Henry gets suspicious," he had murmured in my ear as he knelt over the bed, half-dressed again.
I left after picking up my tattered dignity from Zac's floor and hurried down the hallway, taking only the few steps necessary to get to my room. My thoughts, now on Henry. Did he noticed something was off? Could he hear the unmistakable sounds of passion from Zac's room? I had to convince myself that he was clueless enough to relax, even just a little, in the shower.
As the hot water washed over me, the scent of Zac's sweat and cum washed away, but the memory remained, etched into my very being. I scrubbed at my skin as if trying to erase the experience, but the feeling of his hands on me, the power of his thrusts, remained like a brand. The anxiety grew, a knot in my stomach that I couldn't shake loose. What if Henry had heard something? What if he knew what had happened?
Zac really didn't have a good lie, did he? The lie had been so flimsy, it was surprising Henry had bought it. But then again, Henry was the more naive of the two, less likely to suspect something like that happening between his brothers, even though he had done it countless times before.
I shook my head to clear the fog of last night's events, forcing myself to focus on the task at hand. It was time to face the music, or rather, the breakfast dishes. I slipped into some comfortable shorts and a t-shirt, my ass still tender as I made my way downstairs. The house was quiet, the only sound the soft tick of the grandfather clock in the hallway.
The warm glow of early morning sunlight wafted through the kitchen windows as I stood in front of the open fridge, pulling out a bottle of orange juice. I poured myself a glass, thinking about what I should make for breakfast today. The fridge was a treasure trove of ingredients, each one whispering a promise of a delicious meal. I settled on pancakes, something that could be made quickly and enjoyed by all.
As the first batch of pancakes began to bubble and brown on the stove, I felt the tension in the air thicken. Henry appeared in the doorway, his sleepy eyes blinking at me. He was wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts, which clung to his muscular thighs and showcased the V-shape leading up to his crotch. I couldn't help but feel the urge to drop the spatula and dive into his boxer briefs, but I resisted. The smell of sizzling batter filled the kitchen, creating a comforting aura that belied the storm of emotions brewing inside me.
"Hey, bro," Henry greeted, his voice a sleepy rumble. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and yawned, stretching his arms out to reveal a landscape of bulging biceps and chest muscles that made my own cock twitch with interest. "You're up early."
"Couldn't sleep," I lied, keeping my eyes on the pancake batter to avoid any suspicion. "Thought I'd make breakfast for everyone."
I managed a smile. The pancakes popped and sizzled, begging for attention. I flipped them over with a practiced ease, feeling the heat of the stove against my back. The sweet scent of vanilla filled the kitchen, mixing with the faint hint of Henry's morning musk.
"You okay?" Henry asked, his gaze lingering on me as he shuffled over to the coffee pot.
"Yeah," I said, a little too quickly, maybe. "Just tired."
I turned around to face him, leaning against the counter. Henry's eyes searched mine for a moment, then slid down to the bulge in my shorts, his sleepy expression morphing into something more... hungry. I felt a jolt of excitement at his obvious interest, even as the knot in my stomach tightened.
"What's going on?" he asked, his voice softer now, a hint of curiosity in his tone. He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to rest on my arm, the heat of his touch seeping through the fabric and making my skin tingle.
"What do you mean?" I replied, trying to play it cool as I removed the cooked pancakes from the pan and placed them on a plate. The heat from the stove did little to warm me up compared to the heat Henry's gaze was sending my way.
"You're... different," he said, his hand sliding down to my wrist, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin there. "You usually don't turn me down when I need a hand."
The pancake I was holding hovered in midair for a moment as I stared at him, not knowing how to adress that topic.... But at the same time, I wanted to confront him about it, secretly wishing he would drop his girl and just stick with me, but that was just a fantasy, wasn't it?
"Oh you mean because of last night?" I finally said, feigning nonchalance as I placed the spatula on the counter. "Yeah, I just didn't feel like it."
The lie was thick on my tongue, but I hoped the scent of the pancakes would cover the scent of my deceit. I didn't know how or if I should even broach the subject, and the feeling of Henry's hand tightening around my wrist and his eyes searching mine for an explanation I didn't want to give didn't help me at all. "Is everything okay?" he asked again, the concern in his voice almost too much to handle.
"I don't know," I admitted, my voice cracking a little. "It just feels... weird."
The pancakes on the stove were forgotten as I met Henry's eyes, searching for any hint of understanding. "What do you mean it feels weird?" he said, his voice dropping an octave.
He stepped closer, his hand moving from my wrist to my shoulder, his fingers flexing in a way that made me all too aware of his strength. "You know, I get it if you don't want to anymore," Henry said, his voice a low murmur. "I mean, if you think it's wrong because we're brothers..."
I looked into his eyes, and had to smile. My big brother really was so simple at times. "What are you talking about, Henry?" I asked, my voice dripping with faux innocence. "I didn't care about that when we first started and you should know, that I don't care about it now either."
His face fell a bit, his expression one of confusion and maybe a hint of disappointment. "But you didn't let me do anything last night," he said, his voice a gentle whine. "You don't think I'm hot anymore?" He took another step closer, his hand sliding down to my waist, his thumb brushing against the waistband of my shorts.
I couldn't help but laugh, the tension in the room dissipating like the steam rising from the pancakes. "Trust me, Henry," I said, patting his shoulder. "You're still the hottest guy I've ever laid eyes on."
His face lit up like a Christmas tree. "Really?"
"Yes, really," I said, smiling genuinely now. "I mean, have you looked at yourself lately?"
I stepped closer to Henry, my eyes roving over his broad chest and bulging biceps, the muscles shifting and flexing with every move he made. "You're like a Greek god," I murmured, my voice a soft purr. "All those hours you spend in the gym, pumping iron... it shows."
"You really think so?" He asked, his cheeks coloring slightly as he glanced down at his body, flexing his arms involuntarily.
"Oh, absolutely," I said, my eyes lingering on the veins popping out of his biceps. "You're one of the hottest guys I've ever seen, Henry."
He grinned, his teeth flashing in the morning light, looking like a proud peacock showing off his feathers. But then his expression faltered. "But?"
I hesitated for a moment, the pancakes on the stove now a forgotten afterthought. "It's just... I love many things about you, but... Henry, I can't ignore the fact that you're dating someone else."
A flicker of something crossed Henry's face, a mix of surprise and... was that guilt?
"I wanted to tell you," he said, his hand dropping from my shoulders, his gaze drifting to the floor. "I just didn't know how you'd react."
"It's fine, Henry," I assured him, placing a comforting hand on his chest. "You're my brother. What you do outside of here, with other people... it's your business."
His eyes searched mine, looking for any signs of anger or resentment. "Really?" he asked, his voice hopeful.
"Really," I said, my voice firm. "You don't have to tell me every detail of your life, but hearing that you were with a girl... it just doesn't feel right anymore." I took a deep breath, my hand still on his chest. The muscles beneath my palm felt like warm marble, a stark contrast to the cold realization that washed over me.
"It's not that I don't want you, Henry," I continued, my voice a mix of desire and regret. "Hell, I crave you like nothing else. Your body... it's like it was sculpted by the gods." I couldn't help but roam my hand over his chest, feeling the heat of his skin and the solid wall of muscle beneath. "Every curve, every bulge," I murmured, tracing my fingers along the contours of his pectorals and up his arm to the bicep that swelled like a mountain peak. "I love the way you look at me, the way your eyes light up when I touch you, the way your muscles flex when you're turned on."
He watched me with a mix of confusion and hope, looking down at me with those puppy-dog eyes of his. And I decided to explain it further for him. "You know, Henry, when we started this... it was like I was doing you a favor," I said, my hand still resting on his chest. "But it's turned into something more for me."
I could see the cogs turning in his head, trying to piece together what I was saying. "But I like it too," he murmured, his voice thick with need. "It feels good."
"I know you do," I said, giving him a small smile. "But it's not just about feeling good anymore. It feels like we're together, like we're a... a couple."
His eyes searched mine, trying to understand the emotional turmoil that was no doubt written all over my face. "But you don't want to be with me," he said, his voice a mix of hope and confusion.
"I know, I know," I said, shaking my head. "It's complicated. But I can't help it. Every time you're with her, every time I think about the fact that you could be fucking her, it just... it drives me crazy."
His hand slid down my sides, his thumbs brushing the hem of my shorts, sending a shiver down my spine. "So what do you want me to do?" Henry asked, his voice a gruff whisper.
I took a deep breath, taking a moment to find the right words. "I've already told you that to make this work between us, Henry, it has to be exclusive sex between us. I can't keep doing this while you're with someone else," I said, my voice steady despite the tumultuous emotions churning within me. "When we started, it was because you were pent up, and you needed me. Now, if you have someone else, that's who you should go to. I'm not going to be a side dish to your main course."
The kitchen fell silent for a beat, the only sound the faint crackling of the pancakes on the stove. Henry looked down at me, his eyes a stormy sea of confusion and need. "But no one's as good as you," he murmured, his hand sliding down to rest under my butt, his erection pressing against my thigh.
"I know," I said softly, placing my hand over his. "But you chose to be with her, so she's the one who gets to pleasure you now."
The words felt like a knife twisting in my gut, but I had to be firm. Henry's hand remained on my ass, his thumb making lazy circles that were sending my thoughts spiraling into the gutter. His cock was still rock hard against my leg, a testament to his need for release. I knew all too well how good he felt when he was like this, how much he enjoyed it when I took care of him. But I couldn't be his escape anymore, not while he was with someone else.
"I understand," he said, his voice tight with frustration. He stepped back, his hand dropping away from me. "But what if she can't... handle me?"
"Then you'll find out," I said, my own voice firm. "You have to figure that out for yourself, Henry. If she's the one for you, then she'll satisfy you in all the ways you need. But if not, if you find yourself craving something she can't give you..." I let the words hang in the air, the unspoken promise heavy between us.
He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "But what if she can't?"
"That's something you need to figure out," I said gently. "If you're in a relationship with her, she deserves your full attention and commitment. That means all of you, Henry, including that." I nodded towards the bulge in his shorts. "But if it's just not working out, or if you decide that you want more than just a relationship, then you know where I stand."
He nodded, his expression thoughtful. "I get it," he said finally. "I'll think about it."
I couldn't help myself; the temptation was too great. With a cheeky smirk, I reached out and gave his bulging erection a final, teasing grab. It was a silent declaration of my own need, a reminder that no matter what he chose, I was here and willing. Then, turning away from him, I focused on the last pancake. With a flick of my wrist, I flipped it onto a fresh plate, the perfect golden-brown circle landing with a sizzle.
"Breakfast is ready," I said, holding the plate out to him. The aroma of vanilla and warm syrup filled the air, a sweet scent that seemed to mock the bitter conversation we'd just had. Henry took the plate with a nod, his eyes never leaving mine. I could see the internal struggle playing out across his face, the desire and confusion warring with the knowledge that I had set a boundary he might not be able to cross again.
He took a seat at the kitchen table, his muscles flexing with the simple act of pulling out the chair. I couldn't help but watch, my eyes drawn to the way his abs rippled as he leaned forward to grab the maple syrup. I felt a twinge of arousal, despite my resolve. Henry's body was like a siren's call, impossible to resist. But I had to be strong. I had to make him understand.
"So," he said, his mouth full of pancake, "what happens now?"
I took a deep breath, my hand lingering over the plate of food. "We go on like normal," I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil in my chest. "We're still brothers, Henry. We live together, just without my lips wrapped around your cock, whenever you get the urge."
A spark of something, was it anger or disappointment, flashed in Henry's eyes. "But that turned out to be the best part," he mumbled, his voice low and gruff.
"I know," I said, my voice lost to the sound of our forks scraping against the plates.
We ate in silence, the weight of our words hanging in the air. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence; it was more like the quiet after a storm, when you know the air has shifted, but you're not quite sure what to make of the calm. The absence of our usual playful banter was palpable, a void filled with the unspoken understanding of the new boundary I'd drawn. But there was no tension, and luckily, Zac saved us from the awkwardness that could have easily enveloped us, simply by striding into the kitchen.
He appeared in the doorway, looking every inch the authoritative jock in his gym shorts and tight-fitting t-shirt that hugged his bulging muscles. "Why did no one wake me up for these?" he groused, his eyes narrowing at the two of us sitting there.
"They were hot when I started," Henry mumbled around a mouthful of food, instantly in a better mood, and trying to get a rise out of Zac.
Zac rolled his eyes. "Whatever, man," he said, sauntering over to the stove. He grabbed a plate from the cupboard and scooped a few of the remaining pancakes onto it. "They're still better than what I'd make," he admitted, his tone teasing.
I couldn't help but smirk at him. He looked so casual, so unfazed by what had happened between us. It was like he'd forgotten all about the night before, about the way he'd dominated me, claimed me. But as he turned to grab the syrup, I noticed the faintest hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. He was as eager to gauge my reaction as I was to gauge his.
As we ate our pancakes, I studied Zac from the corner of my eye. He was his usual self, bantering with Henry and scarfing down his food as if it was his last meal. Yet, there was something in the way he sat a little closer than usual, the way his eyes kept flicking towards me, that made me realise that he was just as curious about Henry's knowledge of our encounter as I was.
I was sure by now, that Henry hadn't noticed anything between me and Zac. He was as oblivious as a brick wall to the subtle nuances of our conversation, his eyes glazed over with the joy of pancakes and the simplicity of his own thoughts. It was clear to me that he was clueless about our secret rendezvous, which was surprising, considering the walls in our house weren't exactly soundproof. But then again, Henry had always been a bit slow on the uptake, his brawn overshadowing any semblance of brain.
Zac must have noticed my gaze, because he met my eyes with a knowing smirk, raising his eyebrow slightly. He took a sip of his coffee, the muscles in his throat moving with the motion, and I felt a thrill run through me at the silent acknowledgment. It was clear he knew that Henry was oblivious to our shared secret, and he was enjoying the fact that it was so.
"Thanks for breakfast, bro," Henry said, his voice pulling me out of my tumultuous thoughts. He pushed his chair back, the wood scraping against the floor. And I watched him as he stood up, his boxer shorts tenting obscenely around his morning wood. He was like a walking billboard for testosterone, all bulging muscles and unabashed sexuality.
Zac didn't look up from his phone as Henry lumbered out of the kitchen, his broad shoulders and thick thighs moving with the grace of a bear in the wild. I took the oppertunity to watch him go, letting my eyes lingering on the bulge in his shorts and the way his muscular backside flexed with every step he took... It was hard to believe that someone so uncomplicated could stir such a complex web of emotions and desires within me.
Once Henry was out of earshot, Zac's gaze snapped to me, his eyes glinting with a smug satisfaction. He leaned back in his chair, his biceps bulging as he folded his arms across his chest. "Looks like he's still in the dark," he said, his voice smug.
“A miracle if you ask me. With that bad lie you told, I would expect him to get it by now." I quipped, popping a piece of pancake into my mouth and chewing it with a smug expression.
Zac just chuckled, his abs rippling with the motion. "Maybe he's just too dense to catch on," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
"Don't push your luck," I told Zac, waving my fork at him with a playful scold. "I still have my preferences, you know."
"Oh, what? You can't tell me he's still your favorite brother after what I did to you yesterday," Zac said, his grin growing wider as he took in my teasing expression.
I had to hold back a grin. If only he knew that Henry had done the same thing to me over the past few months, and how much I had enjoyed it. The face he would make, it would be hillarious... But I couldn't let that thought consume me. There was no way I would come clean about my sexual escapades with Henry to him. That was no secret I was going to tell him, especially after what he had done with me last night.
"You think you're so hot shit now, don't you?" I said, raising an eyebrow as I took another sip of my coffee.
Zac's smirk grew. "Maybe I am," he said, his eyes traveling over my body with a confidence that had me squirming in my seat. "After all, you came to me begging for it last night."
I rolled my eyes, but inside, I was basking in the afterglow of his dominance. "It's not like you had to twist my arm," I retorted, trying to keep my voice light. But the memory of his thick, hard cock plunging into me. The way he had taken what he wanted was still fresh in my mind, and even tho I had loved it, I couldn't let him think that he was the one in charge here.
"You liked it, didn't you?" Zac's voice was low and smug, a clear challenge in his eyes.
"What? Having my brains fucked out? Sure, it was... different," I said with a shrug, playing it cool.
Zac's smirk grew wider, his eyes glinting with something predatory. "Different good, or different bad?" he pressed, his tone a mix of amusement and arrogance.
"Different like when you finally realize you've been using the wrong type of Dildo all along," I quipped, enjoying the way Zac's smirk turned into a full-blown grin. He had always loved it when I talked dirty, especially when it came to his own ego. "But let's not get ahead of ourselves. It was just a one-time thing, okay?"
Zac leaned back in his chair, his muscular arms flexing as he folded them across his chest. "Oh, really?" he said, his voice dripping with skepticism. "Because it seemed like you were begging for more."
"Begging?" I scoffed, my tone loaded with sarcasm. "I just needed a good release, and you were the nearest, uh, 'instrument' at the time," I said, waving my fork in the air.
Zac leaned back in his chair, his smug grin not fading an inch. "An instrument, huh?" he said, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Well, I'm always happy to be of service, even tho I know you enjoyed it more than you're letting on."
I rolled my eyes and stood up to grab the plate of pancakes, mostly to hide my blush. "You're full of yourself," I said, my voice light. "You think you're God's gift to the bedroom because you fucked me harder than anyone else?"
Zac's grin was unyielding. "Of course, I am," he said, reminding me of an freshman who'd just scored the winning touchdown.
"But seriously," I sighed, placing the plate down and turning to face him. "It was good, sure. But it's not like I'm going to start worshipping at the altar of Zac, okay?"
He leaned forward, his eyes never leaving mine, a challenge in his gaze. "What does that mean?"
"It means," I began, turning to grab the plate of pancakes, "that while you certainly know how to hit the spot, I've had better."
Zac's eyes narrowed, his smile faltering for a moment. "Better?" He repeated, the challenge clear in his voice.
I shrugged, standing up and turning to the sink to rinse the dishes. "Yeah, better," I said, the water running as I watched him over my shoulder. "You're not the only one who knows how to use their... instrument," I teased, my voice trailing off as I gave him a knowing look.
The challenge in his gaze was palpable as he took a bite of his pancake, his jaw muscles flexing with the motion. I knew I had him hooked, his ego bruised just enough to make him crave more, to want me to say that he was the best. But I wouldn't give him that satisfaction, not until I could test what else I could get him to do with me...
I turned away from the sink, my eyes lingering on the way the water droplets clung to my skin, the dampness of my shirt clinging to my torso, making my nipples stand at attention. I knew he was watching me, his eyes devouring my every move, but I didn't give him the satisfaction of looking back. Instead, I grabbed the towel and dried my hands, making a point to sway my ass as I walked back to the table.
"I've had better," I repeated, turning to face him with a smug smile. "But that doesn't mean you're not... talented," I conceded, watching him carefully as I walked past him and headed towards the stairs. His eyes followed me, dark with a mix of arousal and annoyance.
Zac's jaw clenched as he set his plate down, his appetite for food clearly overshadowed by his desire for me. "You're playing a dangerous game, little brother," he warned, his voice low and gruff.
"Am I?" I said, spinning around with a smirk. "Or am I just keeping things interesting?"
Zac's eyes followed the sway of my hips as I left the kitchen, the sound of his chair scraping the floor as he stood up echoing through the room. He was hot on my heels, his heavy footsteps a stark contrast to my light, playful ones. "You know you want it," I tossed over my shoulder, feeling his gaze on my backside like a physical touch.
"Keep running away," he said, his voice thick with desire and a hint of annoyance. "See how far that gets you."
I didn't need to look back to know he was chasing me. I could feel the thunder of his steps on the stairs, the heat of his gaze burning into my skin as I dashed down the hallway and into the safety of my room. But there was no real safety here, not when Zac had that look in his eyes.
I spun around to face him just as he stepped over the threshold, his towering frame filling the doorway like a colossus of muscle and ego. I had just bruised it by suggesting that there was better out there than him, and now he was going to prove me wrong, or so he thought.
I would have thought Zac would just pounce on me like a lion on its prey, especially after the challenge I had laid before him. But instead, as I stood infront of my bed, facing him, he surprised me by locking the door with a decisive click, his eyes never leaving mine. He stalked towards me, his muscular frame moving with the grace of a predator, and for a moment, I was sure he was going to grab me and toss me onto the bed. But he didn't. He simply stepped around me and plopped himself down on the edge of my mattress, his legs spread wide. It was a move that screamed of dominance, of a man who knew exactly what he wanted and was more than willing to wait for it.
"The door is locked. There is no way someone can interrupt you," Zac said, his voice a seductive purr that sent a shiver down my spine. "It's up to you whether you want to go or do what you really wanted to do, since the moment I have stepped into the kitchen," he added with a knowing smirk.
I felt the heat rising in my cheeks as I stared at him, his powerful body perched on the edge of my bed, the mattress sinking slightly under his weight. He was giving me the choice, but we both knew what he was really asking for. He didn't give a fuck about my words. Instead, he just wanted my actions to speak volumes.
So, I took a deep breath and made my decision. I wanted to keep some control, to not feel like the submissive little brother, to not feel the way he made me feel last night, but my body had other ideas. My mouth was watering at the thought of his cock, and my desire to taste him was too strong to resist. Especially after the teasing I'd endured with Henry that morning.
Facing Zac, my eyes traveled up and down his muscular frame, tracing the path of his hand as it wandered over the fabric of his tight shirt, caressing the contours of his abs before lingering at the obvious bulge growing in his shorts. As my gaze moved back up, I saw his grin widen as he watched me, fully aware of the effect he had on me. I bit my lower lip, the anticipation building as I took in the sight of his thick, aroused cock straining against the fabric of his shorts.
With a smirk that spoke volumes, Zac leaned back on his hands, which he'd placed behind him on my bed, causing his biceps to bulge and his chest to rise with every breath. He spread his legs wider, an unmistakable invitation that sent a bolt of excitement through me.
I licked my lips, my gaze was on the tent that had formed in the shorts of my unfortunately damn hot brother. The urge to drop to my knees and pull his pants down was like a sirens call, but I was determined to play this game. To show him that I wasn't just going to be his little blowjob buddy whenever he felt like it. But, oh, the struggle was real.
"Oh, come on," Zac groaned, his voice a mix of frustration and need. "I have to give you points for holding off for so long. I didn't expect you to stay strong for longer than a minute, but I'm getting pretty turned on here watching you dance around it." He shifted on the bed, his cock visibly straining against his shorts.
"You know you want to... And since you're trying so hard not to look like you're dying for it, I'll make you a deal," he offered, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "If you fall on your knees and take care of me right here, right now, I won't say a word about it... If you make me wait any longer tho, I'm going to start teasing you again."He continued and added: "You know I can be a real asshole about it."
My eyes darted to the bulge in his shorts and then back to his face, the smug look on his face made me want to punch him, but the bulge in his pants took the upper hand and soon I sighted, lifting a hand to massage my forehead with two fingers. "Fine," I muttered, stepping closer before dropping to my knees, already knowing this was stupid.
I rolled my eyes, leaning in and placing a soft kiss just above his cock. "You're such an asshole," I murmured, feeling the heat of him through the fabric of his shorts. "But you're an asshole I can't say no to," I added, teasing him.
Zac chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest. "Keep telling yourself that," he said, his eyes never leaving mine. "But let's not forget, you're the one on your knees." He didn't wait for my response, his hand already moving to the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down with a swiftness that left me momentarily stunned. His cock sprang free, thick and hard, making my mouth water at the sight.
I pushed the thought of protesting back into my mind, letting my hands glide from his knees up over his beefy thighs, feeling the strength beneath my fingers. "You're such a show-off," I said, trying to hide my own desire.
"And you love it," Zac shot back, his voice filled with confidence. He leaned back on the bed, his abs rippling under the thin fabric of his shirt as he did so. "Now little bro, less talking, more sucking."
I glared up at him, but the fire in his eyes told me that he wasn't in the mood for games. And, admittedly, neither was I. So, with a huff, I took him in my mouth, feeling the heat and weight of his cock, which I'm still looking to getting used to it. He groaned, his eyes closing as I began to work him with the expertise that came from months of practice with Henry.
My hands remained on his, unfortunately still covered thighs, feeling the power beneath them, the muscles flexing every time I took more of him into my mouth. He didn’t just lay there passively, his legs shifting and moving slightly as he adjusted his position, the feeling of them trapping me in place making me feel like a prey caught in the crosshairs of a predator. And yet, as his cock hit the back of my throat, and I already expected that he was going to go wild, he remained surprisingly still, his thighs the only part of him that betrayed his excitement.
But then, somehow, my gag reflex kicked in. I didn’t expect it, not after the months of training with Henry’s equally demanding cock. It was as if the anticipation had made me careless, had made me sloppy, and I had to pull back, coughing slightly as I did so.
I wiped the excess saliva from my mouth with the back of my hand, deciding not to look up at Zac, knowing full well the smug expression that would be plastered on his face. No need to boost his ego any further than I had with my little mistake. Instead, I took a moment to appreciate the sight before me.
With the sun peeking through the blinds and the soft light over the room, I took in the full picture of Zac's masculinity. His sports shorts had been pulled down below his balls, the fabric pulled taut around his powerful thighs and framing his cock, which was longer than Henry's but not quite as thick. The slight curve of his shaft was a tantalizing detail, a promise of pleasure that was both thrilling and intimidating. I could see the shadows play over the smooth skin, where his pubic hair should have been, but wasn't. He was shaved, a small detail I hadn't noticed in the frenzy of the night before, making him look more like a marble statue than a flesh and blood man.
I took a deep breath and leaned back in, my eyes focused on the task at hand, while my hands remained on each one of his thighs, leaving my head alone to do the work, just how I wanted it. I decided, that since my mouth was already off his cock, I could use the moment to have a bit of fun. Leaning down, I bypassed his shaft completely, and went straight to the base, my tongue tracing a wet line from the bottom of his balls, all the way up to the top, where the head of his cock was leaking pre-cum. It was a move that was calculated to drive him crazy, and it worked like a charm.
Zac's thighs tensed beneath my palms as he watched me, his eyes hooded and his chest rising and falling with his labored breaths. "You little...," he started, his voice trailing off into a groan as I reached the tip of his cock and swirled my tongue around the sensitive spot just below the slit.
I glanced up at him, a mischievous smile playing on my lips as I took the head of his cock into my mouth, savoring the salty taste of his pre-cum. He hissed through clenched teeth, and I almost expected him to take a hold of my hair and guide me faster, but surprisingly, he didn’t. His hands remained on the bed behind me, gripping the comforter. He was letting me take the lead, something that was as thrilling as it was nerve-wracking.
Better make this good, I thought to myself, knowing that if I didn't screw this up now, I'd have a better chance of calling the shots every once in a while in the future...
Zac's cock, while longer than Henry's, wasn't quite as thick, which meant I had to adjust my technique slightly. It should have been easier to handle, but the sheer power and presence of Zac made me feel like I was dealing with something... untouchable. But once I got over that mental hurdle, the rest was surprisingly manageable. I took his length in my mouth, focusing on breathing through my nose and relaxing my throat muscles.
I began to bob my head up and down, getting him wet again with my saliva, feeling his length stretch my lips and fill my mouth. Each time I took him in, I could feel his precum coating my tongue, the slight taste of musk from his night's sleep mingling with the more familiar saltiness of his arousal. It was a heady combination that had me fighting not to moan around his cock.
The veins on his shaft stood out against the background of his skin and as much as I enjoyed the feeling combined with the taste of his precum, I knew it was time to go deeper and push the limit.
My eyes watered slightly as I pushed through the tightness in my throat, taking more and more of Zac's length into my mouth with each bob. The feeling of his cock sliding against the roof of my mouth and the back of my throat was both exhilarating and a bit overwhelming. His precum had become less, now leaving a trail down my throat, instead of coating my mouth.
After passing the initial hurdle of my gag reflex, the rest of the blowjob came more naturally. Zac's noises grew more frequent and louder, a symphony of pleasure that filled the room and served as music to my ears. His thighs tightened around my head, and his breathing grew ragged as I found a rhythm that suited us both.
I could feel myself getting into it now, the power exchange between us electric and palpable. Zac's hips began to move slightly in rhythm with my head, his involvement growing more pronounced as his breaths grew shorter and more ragged. It was like he couldn't help himself, the pleasure becoming too much to bear silently. I took this as a good sign and began to work him harder, eager to push him over the edge.
It was only the, that I let go of his thighs, wrapping one hand around the base of his cock, my fist tight and stroking in time with my mouth, while my other hand found his balls, gently massaging them as I took him deeper, feeling his muscles tighten and his cock throb with each stroke. It was clear he was enjoying the extra effort, his body responding with increasingly urgent movements.
I could feel the tension building in his body, the muscles in his abs tightening and his breath coming in shallow gasps. His eyes had rolled back in his head, and from what I could see of his face, he was lost in his own world of pleasure. I knew that moment was coming, the moment where he would release his load down my throat.
So, I took a deep breath and braced myself, my throat muscles relaxing as much as they could around his length, and took him all the way in, letting his cock hit the bottom of my throat. The feeling was intense, a mix of pressure and heat that made my eyes water vehement, but I didn’t pull back. Instead, I let my muscles contract around him, creating a pulsing, milking sensation that I knew would drive him wild.
And it did just as intended. I heard the start of a suprised groan, that turned into a muffled roar as he clapped his hand over his mouth to keep from alerting the rest of the family. His hips bucked, thrusting his cock even deeper into my mouth, and I felt the warm, thick spurts of his cum shoot down my throat, filling me up.I stopped myself from pulling away, eager to give him everything I had to offer. I wanted to savor this moment, to taste him, but I knew I had more time, more opportunities. So, I kept my eyes on him, watching his expression of ecstasy, feeling his cock pulse with every shot of cum that my throat muscles milked from him.
When he was done, his body went slack, his hand dropping from his mouth as he panted heavily, his eyes closed tight. He pulled out of my mouth, inching back on the bed and falling onto his broad back, his chest heaving with the exertion of his climax. His cock was still half-hard, glistening with a mix of precum and saliva, and I couldn't help but admire the sight of him in his post-orgasmic bliss as I sat back on my haunches.
I took a moment to catch my breath, my mouth feeling sore but satisfied, before I leaned over him, placing a soft kiss on his abdomen, feeling his body twitch at the sensation. "You're welcome asshole," I murmured, my voice low and smug.
Zac's eyes remained closed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he basked in the aftermath of his orgasm. I knew he wasn't done with me, not by a long shot, but for now, he was in a state of bliss that rendered him speechless.
