Two weeks passed in which Henry was almost insatiable for sex with me. It had become a daily routine for him to ask me for some one on one time after dinner. I could see the longing in his eyes and the way he was practically drooling at the thought of me pleasuring him. I had somehow become his own personal sex toy, always ready and willing to give him what he wanted.
This evening, Henry was kneeling on my bed, gazing down at me with an expression of pure lust. His muscular body glistening with sweat, his raging erection standing tall and proud, wet and slippery from a mixture of precum and my own saliva. He's been so intense lately, demanding my attention more than ever before. It's like he can't get enough of me.
I'm on all fours, my naked body on display for him, just like hes for me. I can feel his hot breath on my neck as he regains some of his composure.
"Can I?" Henry whispers, his voice trembling with desire.
And I knew exactly what he meant with his question. It has now become routine for me to let him take the lead during our intimate moments at some point.
I had worked hard on training my throat so I could please him and while I wasn't quite ready, I could feel myself getting closer.
Every time we had our secret rendezvous, my mouth and throat grew more accustomed to Henry's cock. I had become quite good at taking him in without gagging too much. It had become a silent game of endurance for me and I was definetly getting better at it.
“Sure,” I murmured, giving him the go-ahead to take the lead, just like I had allowed him the last few times.
With a smirk of victory, that looked rather adorable than arrogant on his otherwise gentle face, Henry took a hold of my head and pulled me closer to him.
He had never been this aggressive before, but I found myself craving it. The power shift was exhilarating. He began to thrust gently at first, giving me time to adjust, but as his need grew, so did the force of his movements.
Before long, Henry had pushed around three-quarters of his thick, muscular cock into my mouth and down my throat. I could feel the last quarter of his length, the most challenging part, straining against my gag reflex.
In reallity, it wasn't much of a difference for him. He was always eager to feel my lips wrapped around his cock. For me, it was about the challenge. About proving to myself that I could take him all the way down my throat, that I could handle his size and his intensity. But since I wasn't quite there yet, he was happy to go on with what he could get. And he did get a lot.
He continued to plow his thick cock into my mouth. Long and deep strokes, hard and demanding. I could feel him building up, his hips beginning to pound against me with increasing ferocity. His hands gripped my hair, holding me in place as he fucked my face, clearly enjoying the change of my capabillitys. Where I could only take slow, careful thrusts at first, now he was going fast and rough for maximum pleasure.
I could feel my throat stretching, my lips parting further and further to accommodate him. It was both terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. My body began to ache from the force of his thrusts, but I couldn't help but crave more.
As Henry continued to pound his cockhead against the walls of my throat, my other hand found its way between my legs. My hand slipped under the waistband of my jockstrap, seeking out my aching erection. I began to stroke myself in time with his thrusts, feeling the head of my cock brush against my palm with each movement. It was exhilarating, the two of us moving together in perfect harmony, my body responding to his touch as much as his touch responded to mine.
I could feel Henry's release building inside me, the first hot, salty spurt of cum splashing against the back of my throat. He groaned, pushing his hips violently forward as he came, his cock twitching inside me. His thrusts grew weaker, less demanding, as he finished and once again fell back onto the bed, panting heavily.
"Oh fuck," I groaned, feeling my own cock twitch in my hand. Cumming at the same time as Henry was always a rush, a shared release of tension and desire. I moved my other hand to join the first, stroking my erection faster, harder, my eyes locked on Henry's as I felt the familiar tightening in my balls. Eyeing him hungrily, I arched my back, pressing my cock against the mattress, willing it to come.
Henry's chest rose and fell rapidly, his eyes glazed over with lust. He watched me, his mouth parted slightly, as if he was trying to catch his breath, but at the same time, wanting to watch every move I made.
I could feel my climax building, pushing against the dam of my orgasm, and finally came, collapsing on the bed infront of him.
"Oh fuck," I groaned, my hips arching off the mattress as I came. A shudder ran through my body, my cock pulsing in my hand, spurt after spurt of hot cum shooting across the bed. I lay there, spent, my vision blurred with the after-images of Henry's magnificent body.
Henry watched me, a satisfied smile curling his lips. "I really don't understand why you like sucking dick so much," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Or why it turns you on."
I smiled up at him, feeling some kind of affection. "You don't have to understand it," I replied. "All you have to do is enjoy the feeling of my lips around your cock." I reached out, running a finger along the dip in his abdomen where his hipbone curved into his side.
"Trust me, I did enjoy it. Just look at me." He smiled, running a hand down his chest as if to draw my gaze there. I followed the motion, unable to resist admiring the play of muscles beneath his skin. My eyes traced his hand, running down the line of his abdomen, over the swell of his hip, and down his strong thigh. His cock lay soft and heavy between his thighs, but still impressive even in its flaccid state. It was a beautiful thing, that was for sure.
I enjoyed the view for a few more moments before sitting up, looking down at Henry where he lay next to me. "I really need a shower," I said, standing up. "Take your time getting up, I'll just be in the bathroom. Dad and Zac wont be back for a while, so no rush"
I walked over to the bathroom door, making sure he had a great view of my ass as I did so. Henry's eyes followed me, his expression hungry as he watched my every move.
Inside the bathroom, I turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature until it was just right, and then stepped under the spray of water. I let out a sigh of contentment as the warm water ran over my body, washing away the sweat from our encounter. I lingered under the spray for a few moments, enjoying the feeling of being clean again, before reaching for the soap and beginning to wash myself.
When I stepped out of the bathroom, Henry was already gone, probably back to his own buissines.
I wasn't surprised, but I had hoped he would stay. I went on with the day, eventually checking my emails like I did every day. The monotony of the task was broken when a new email popped up in my inbox. The sender was unfamiliar, but the subject line immediately caught my attention: "Student Internship Acceptance."
It was an obligation in my course curriculum to intern at a company to gain experience. I had applied to several places, but this email was the first to give me a positive response. The email stated that I had been accepted for an internship position starting in two weeks.
I quickly replied, accepting the offer and attaching the necessary documents and was already done with the formal work. Now came the logistics of actually getting to the internship. Public transport in our area was less than ideal, often unreliable and always crowded. Which means I had to swallow my pride and ask for a favor from either Zac or hopefully dad.
I walked into the living room where my dad was on his phone, his bulging muscles flexing slightly with every movement. He was deep in conversation, his face etched with concentration as he listened to whoever was on the other line. I waited patiently, watching him, my eyes roving over his broad shoulders and down to his thick arms, each bulging with power.
As he talked, his deep, resonant voice filled the room, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of arousal at the thought of his manly presence. He was the epitome of what I found attractive, and the contrast between his strength and my own frame was something that both thrilled and intimidated me, just like it does with Henry.
Finally, he ended his call, looking up at me with a furrowed brow. "What's up, kid?" he asked, his voice gruff but not unkind. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the conversation to come. "Well, I got an email," I began. "It's about an internship that I have to do. It starts in two weeks, and I was wondering..."
My voice trailed off as I tried to find the right words. My dad looked at me expectantly, his powerful arms folded over his broad chest. "Is there a problem?"
I swallowed hard, my eyes flicking to the floor before meeting his again. "I need a ride to the internship," I admitted. "Public transport isn't an option, you know the drill."
My dad studied me for a moment and asked when and what day. In the end, he had to pass. "I'm sorry, Dylan, but it's in the morning and I need my car to drive to work," he said, his expression a mix of regret and firmness. "But you know your brother might be able to help."
"I feared it might come to this," I thought, biting my lower lip. "Zac is going to have a field day with this."
Dad only smiled slightly, clearly knowing the kind of relationship I had with Zac. "You know he won't turn you down," he reassured me, but I knew he woud want something in return, something that would likely be unpleasant for me. But I had no choice, if I wanted to keep up my, I had to play along.
With a sigh, I walked to Zac's room, the door slightly ajar. I knocked lightly before poking my head in. "Hey, can I talk to you?"
He was lying on his bed, scrolling through his phone, not even bothering to look up. "What do you want?" he said.
I took a deep breath, steeling myself for his usual sarcasm. "I got accepted for an internship," I began, trying to keep my voice steady. "It starts in two weeks, and I need a ride there."
Zac's eyes flicked up from his phone, a hint of curiosity in his gaze. " Just take the bus." he said, his tone mocking.
"It's across town and it starts early. Dad said he can't do it because of work, so it's either you or I'm screwed," I replied, immediately cursing my choice of words in my head.
Zac's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought he was going to refuse outright. But then, a sly smile spread across his face. "Fine," he said, sitting up and setting his phone aside. "But you owe me."
"What do you want?" I asked warily, already dreading his response.
Zac leaned back on his bed, his muscular arms folded behind his head. "Simple," he said, his voice dripping with false casualness. "You drive me to my classes in the morning before you go to your internship. And you pick me up after your internship ends."
"I guess that seems fair," I said with a sigh. But he wasn't done yet.
"And," Zac added, his smile turning into a smirk, "yYou owe me a favor when I need it."
My stomach dropped. This wasn't just about driving him; it was about leverage. But I had no choice. "Fine," I said nonchalant. "It's a deal."
Zac's smirk grew into a full-blown grin. "Great," he said, slapping his hands together.
I stayed in his room for another moment, unsure of what to do next. Zac's eyes bore into me, his expression a mix of amusement and challenge. "Well?" he finally asked, raising an eyebrow. "Do you want to do something else for me, or can I finally get some peace?"
With a forced chuckle, I turned away from him, my voice light. "I'm sure the favor I owe you will be more than enough payment."
Zac's eyes glinted with mischief, and I could almost hear the cogs turning in his mind as he thought of all the ways he could use this favor against me. "I'll hold you to that," he called out as I retreated to the hallway.
The next two weeks flew by in a blur of excitement and anxiety. The internship was my ticket to a career in a field I was passionate about, but the thought of being at Zac's mercy was a bitter pill to swallow, even tho its only twice a week.
The first two times that week, surprisingly, went smoother than expected. Zac was less of a prick than I had anticipated. He didn't make me wait for him, at least not excessively, and aside from the occasional smug remark about my internship, he was almost...bearable.
But as I approached the pick-up point on the third day, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I glanced at the screen and saw Zac's name flashing on the screen.
In the back of my mind I knew it was only a matter of time until Zac deviated from the agreed plan. My heart sank as I read the text: "Pick me up from the locker room today. I've got some extra stuff to grab." It was a simple request, but I couldn't shake the feeling that ithere was more to it than met the eye.
I sighed and turned the car towards the college football field. We both attend the same university, so navigating the campus was second nature to me. The locker room might not be my usual hangout spot, but it knew where it was. The parking lot was half-empty, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the pavement. The buzz of distant voices and the thud of a football hitting the turf filled the air as I parked and waited for Zac.
Minutes ticked by, each one stretching longer than the last. I fiddled with the radio, trying to find a station that didn't make me want to tear my hair out. The heat was intense, trapped inside the car despite the open windows, and I could feel the sweat beading on my forehead. I was about to text Zac to hurry up when the locker room door burst open, and out he came, strutting towards the car like he owned the place.
But it wasn't just Zac that emerged from the shadows of the building. There was another guy with him, and he was just as muscular as Zac, if not more so. As they approached, I noticed that his face didn't meet my expectations of a brute. He was handsome, with blonde hair that was swept back from his forehead, and piercing green eyes that held a surprising warmth. He looked to be around the same age as Zac, and his physique was a testament to the hours he must spend in the gym.
I didn't want to eye the guy up and down, knowing he must be a friend of Zac's, but my gaze drifted back to him a few more times until they reached the car. His body was a sculpted masterpiece, each muscle defined and bulging with power. He was dressed in a tight-fitting t-shirt and shorts that left little to the imagination, and his broad shoulders and thick thighs looked like they could crush me with ease.
The newcomer slid into the backseat, flashing me a quick smile that made my heart race. His eyes were a piercing green, and they bore into me with a curiosity that was slightly unnerving.
Zac walked around th car with the same swagger that had made me despise him for so long. He didn't bother with a "thanks for coming" or even a nod. He just slid into the passenger seat, his muscular body filling the space as he closed the door with a thud.
"This is my buddy, Mason," he said casually, jerking his thumb towards the backseat. "We're going to grab some food before you drop him off."
The way Zac talked to me was infuriating. It was as if he thought he could just order me around like I was his personal servant. But with Mason in the car, I bit my tongue. I didn’t want to start a scene, especially not when there was a chance to get to know this new, intriguing guy.
"Sure, no problem," I forced out through gritted teeth, turning the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life, and I pulled out of the parking lot, trying to ignore the knot of irritation in my stomach.
As we drove, Zac and Mason talked about their workout routines and the upcoming football game, their voices deep and resonant with the confidence that only came from being in peak physical condition. I kept my eyes on the road, my hands tight on the steering wheel, trying not to be too obvious about the glances I was stealing at Mason in the rearview mirror.
After a few minutes of awkward silence on my part, Mason leaned forward, his muscular arm brushing against the back of my seat. "So, you're Zac's little bro, huh?" he asked, his voice filled with friendly curiosity.
I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "Apparently, he forgot to mention that," I replied, my tone dripping with sarcasm. "But yes, I'm Dylan, the intern chauffeur."
Mason chuckled, his deep laugh sending a pleasant shiver down my spine. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Dylan," he said, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror. "Damn, didn't know guys in your family could came in such a... compact package."
Zac snorted, slapping his hand against the dashboard. "Yeah, Dylan's always been the runt of the litter," he said, his voice thick with the kind of teasing that had always made me feel so small. But as I glanced at Mason, I saw that his expression remained friendly, no trace of the cruelty that Zac so often wore.
"Don't let him get to you," Mason said, his hand landing on Zac's shoulder. Zac's smirk only grew wider.
"Oh, come on, Dylan can handle it," he said, his eyes gleaming with challenge. "Can't you, little bro?"
I sighed, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice. "I can do without it."
Mason leaned back into his seat, his gaze still on me through the mirror. "Don't let him get to you, Dylan," he said again, his tone gentle. "Zac's all bark and no bite."
"Yeah, sure," I mumbled, but I knew Zac's bite was real. We had shared the same space for years, and his cruel teasing had been a constant presence. But with Mason in the car, I didn't want to make a scene.
"So, Dylan, you like football?" Mason asked, obviously trying to ease the tension.
Before I could respond, Zac interrupted. "Nah, the only thing he knows about football is washing my dirty laundry," he said, his voice filled with mockery. "The closest he's ever been to a pigskin is when he's doing my jockstraps."
Mason chuckled, and I felt a flush creep up my neck. "Well, that's one way to support the team," he said, his tone light.
Ignoring Zac's jab, I focused on the road ahead, turning the car towards the nearest fast-food place. When we arrived, Mason stepped out, leaving me and Zac in the car. The air between us thick with unspoken tension .
Zac leaned back in his seat, his arms folded across his broad chest. "What's your problem?" he sneered. "Can't take a little teasing?"
The last straw had been laid, and the camel's back had snapped. "I'm not your fucking cuff-link!" I exploded, slamming my hand on the steering wheel. "You're always making fun of me, pushing me around like I'm some kind of joke! And now you're bringing your buddy into it?"
Zac's smirk didn't waver, his muscular body seemingly filling the entirety of the passenger seat. "What, you think you're too good for a little banter?" he goaded, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Don't get your panties in a twist, Dylan. It's just how I roll in this family."
"Well, maybe it's time for you to roll somewhere else," I snapped back, my voice quivering with anger.
Zac's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought he was going to lash out. But then, something shifted in his expression. "Look, Dylan," he said, his voice softer than I had ever heard it. "I know we have our differences, but you're my little brother. And as much as I might mess with you, I do take that seriously. So calm down your gay little ass and relax a bit."
I knew it was the most friendly Zac could bring himself to be, so I took a deep breath and nodded. "Fine," I said, forcing a smile. "But just so we're clear, I'm not your chauffeur. I'm doing you a favor."
Zac leaned back in his seat, his arms folded over his broad chest. "Whatever you say, Dylan," he said, his smirk returning. "But I still got that favor to cash in."
I gritted my teeth but didn't reply, focusing instead on the road ahead. When Mason returned with the food, I tried to ignore the way his muscular frame filled the doorway as he slid back into the car. The scent of greasy burgers and fries filled the small space, making my stomach growl despite my nerves.
"Here you go," Mason said, handing Zac a bag before turning to me with a smile. "And this one's for you, Dylan. I figured you'd be hungry after playing chauffeur all day."
I took the bag with a nod of thanks, my eyes flicking up to meet his in the mirror. And I smiled genuinely, taking a moment to appreciate the kindness in his eyes. "Thanks, Mason," I said, the words feeling awkward on my tongue.
As we drove, the conversation remained light, mostly between Zac and Mason, but every now and then, Mason would throw a question my way, keeping me involved in their banter. It was clear that he was trying to include me, and for that, I was grateful. I didn't know what I had been expecting from this guy, but it definitely wasn't this kindness.
When we reached the turning point to Mason's place, he leaned forward again, his muscular arm brushing against the back of my seat. "Take a left up here," he instructed, pointing to the street ahead. "It's the second house on the right."
I nodded, my heart racing a little faster at his nearness. When we reached the house, I pulled over to the curb, the engine idling quietly. Mason grabbed his bag of food and turned to Zac. "Later, man," he said, clapping him on the shoulder before opening the door and stepping out.
As he was about to close the door, Mason turned to me, his eyes lingering for a moment before he spoke. "Thanks for the ride, Dylan," he said, his voice a gentle rumble. "It was nice to meet you."
"You too, Mason," I managed to reply, "See you around."
Mason nodded, his gaze lingering on me for a second longer than necessary before he turned and strolled up the driveway to his house. I watched him go, his muscular form moving with an easy grace that had me swallowing hard. When he disappeared inside, I turned to Zac, my annoyance forgotten for the moment. "What's the deal with Mason?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.
Zac shrugged, "He's just a buddy from the team," he said, his eyes lingering on me for a moment too long. Then, the grin was back, spreading across his face like a wildfire. "Why? Do you think he's hot, Dylan?"
I felt the heat rising in my cheeks, but I held his gaze, refusing to let him see me squirm. "Take care of your own business, Zac," I said firmly, before driving us home.
