To say the least, the drive home was less than pleasant. Zac didn't really mention the Jason incident again, but the tension in the car was as thick as a brick wall. I could feel his eyes on me, every time we stopped at a traffic light or took a turn, but he remained silent, his jaw tight and his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white.
I fidgeted in my seat, the evidence of my encounter with Jason washed away, but the thought of it all still lingered in both of our minds.
As we pulled up the driveway, the headlights of the car bouncing off the garage door, I felt a sudden burst of courage. Before Zac could even unbuckle his seatbelt, I turned to him, my voice quivering slightly. "Why do you care?" I blurted out. "You're always so cruel to me, mocking me for everything, and now you act like you're protective?"
Zac's hand paused on the door handle, his body stopped in mid-motion as he took in my words. He straightened himself up in the car, his muscular frame seeming to puff up with anger. He turned around, facing me, his eyes narrowed and his jaw set. "What did you just say?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.
I swallowed hard, trying to hold onto my newfound courage. But the look on Zac's face was terrifying, his muscles bulging under his shirt as he clenched his fists. "You don't get it, do you?" he said, his voice tight with anger. "I don't give a fuck who you suck off, Dylan. But I can't stand that cocky son of a bitch, and now you've just handed him more ammo to shoot my way."
He didn't give me a chance to respond, but I could see the rage bubbling just beneath the surface of his tanned skin. He took a deep breath, his chest expanding and the muscles in his arms tightening. But as he exhaled, something in him seemed to snap. He turned to me, his eyes cold and hard. "Since you obviously didn't know any better, I'll let it slide this time," he said, his voice tight with barely contained anger. "But I swear to God, Dylan, if I hear one more fucking word out of that bratty mouth of yours, I'll make sure you understand exactly why you don't fuck with me."
I opened my mouth to protest, but before I could get a single syllable out, Zac's hand shot out, grabbing my chin in a firm grip. "I said, shut up," he snarled, his eyes flashing. "Now get the fuck out of my car."
I scrambled out, the cold night air hitting me like a slap in the face. Zac followed, slamming the door behind him. We walked into the house in tense silence, his steps echoing through the hallway. I could feel the anger radiating off him, and I knew better than to push my luck.
Once we were inside, I hurried upstairs to my room, eager to escape the suffocating tension that had filled the car. My heart was racing as I rushed up the stairs, my legs shaking with a mix of fear and arousal. The encounter with Jason had left me feeling dirty and used, and even the thought of Zac's anger couldn't fully dampen the excitement that thrummed through my body.
The next morning, I woke up early, my mind racing with thoughts of the previous night. I knew I had to make it up to Zac somehow, especially since I still needed his car to get to work.
I took a quick shower and got dressed, making sure to pick out an outfit that wouldn't make me look like the slut I had allowed myself to be and decided to make Zac the biggest, most extravagant breakfast I could. I figured that maybe, just maybe, if I played my cards right, I could win back some of his favor and temper his anger.
I packed the breakfast onto a tray. The smell of eggs, bacon, and toast filled the kitchen, and I hoped it would be enough to soothe his temper. The house was silent, everyone else still lost in sleep.
I reached Zac's door, my hand hovering over the wood for a moment before I gathered the nerve to knock.
"What?" Zac's gruff voice came from the other side, thick with sleep.
I took a deep breath and pushed the door open, the hinges creaking slightly. The room was bathed in the soft glow of early morning light, and Zac was sprawled out on his bed, the blankets tangled around his waist, revealing his broad, muscular chest and the faint trail of hair leading down to his shorts. His eyes were half-closed, and he squinted at me as I entered.
"Dylan?" he grumbled, his eyes adjusting to the light as he took in the tray of food. "What the fuck is this?"
I stepped further into the room, trying to ignore the way his chest rose and fell with every breath. "It's breakfast," I said, my voice small. "I figured I owed you an apology for last night."
Zac's eyes narrowed, but he didn't say anything as he sat up, the blankets pooling around his waist. His abs were a sight to behold, a testament to the hours he spent in the gym. I placed the tray on the nightstand and took a step back, my heart racing as I waited for his reaction.
"You think you can just buy me off with food?" he said, his voice gruff. But there was something in his tone that suggested he wasn't entirely dismissive of the gesture. He took a deep breath, the muscles in his chest flexing.
I watched as he stretched his broad shoulders and wide back, the fabric of his boxershorts straining against his powerful form. Zac was still worked up from the night before, but the scent of food seemed to be breaking through his anger. He reached for the plate of eggs and bacon, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he was trying to decide whether or not to accept my peace offering.
As he took a bite, the tension in the room didn't dissipate entirely, but it eased slightly. His eyes never left mine, and I could see the wheels turning in his head. He was trying to decide how to play this, what to do with me now.
"You're lucky, Dylan. I'm not going to tell anyone about what happened last night. It'd ruin the family name if people found out you're running around with cocks in your mouth... The food is good so you can leave," Zac said, his mouth full of eggs.
I took a step back, "You know... I still need a ride to work." I said tentatively, holding my breath as I waited for his response.
Zac chewed thoughtfully for a moment, his eyes on me. "I'll let it slide, for another favor," he said, his voice gruff and his eyes glinting with something unreadable. "And only if you never pull that shit again, I swear to God."
"Allright, Zac," I replied and turned towards the door. "I come and get the plate when you're gone."
"Thats the good brother I want to have," Zac said, as I closed the door behind me. The words echoing in my head as I walked towards my room.
The day dragged on as I sat in my room watching my online lectures. Zac Henry and Dad had all left for work and university, the house feeling eerily quiet without their boisterous presences. The professor's voice droned on, discussing the intricacies of something, but my mind was elsewhere. I kept replaying the events of last night in my head, the way Jason had used me and the look on Zac's face when he found us.
I couldn't help but feel a strange mix of emotions. I was humiliated, of course, but there was something undeniably thrilling about it. Having fun with Henry had allowed me to let go of my inhibitions. And now, Zac had caught a glimpse of that side of me, the side that craved the touch of a muscular man, the side that was desperate for validation.
But the thought of Zac using that knowledge against me was a constant thorn in my side. His behavior could be unpredictable at the best of times, and knowing that he had something to hold over me was a recipe for disaster. Yet, I found myself oddly drawn to the dynamics that had shifted since last night.
I never felt so exposed as I did after that night. Zac's knowing smirk played on repeat in my mind, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement every time I thought about the power he now had over me. It was a dangerous game, but the thrill of the unknown was too much to resist.
We had never been close and our relationship was a constant dance of one-upmanship and mutual disdain. Still, I couldn't deny the secret thrill that shot through me every time I caught a glimpse of his muscular physique.
Where Henry's body was beefy and thick, Zac's was massive but lean, with the wide back and shoulders of a quarterback. His V-shaped torso was a marvel to behold, a sculpture of power and agility and by no means lack of strenght. The way his muscles rippled when he moved was mesmerizing, and I often found myself comparing Henry's bulk to Zac's defined frame.
As I thought ore about it, I realized that while Henry was sweet and easy to please, it was Zac's control and power that truly captivated me. I knew that Henry didn't understand the depths of my desires, the way Zac might. The idea of submitting to him, of being under his command, was more thrilling than I cared to admit.
It was easy for me to convince Henry to have fun with me. Now he got hooked and asked for more of his own accord. It was nice to know I could have his massive dick whenever I wanted, but was it enaugh?
In the evening, I found myself drawn to the familiar sounds of cheering coming from the living room. The aroma of pizza filled the air, and I knew that Zac and Henry had settled in for their weekly football night. I hovered at the doorway, watching them from the shadows. They were both dressed in their favorite teams' jerseys, the fabric stretching across their bulging muscles. They were so absorbed in the game that they didn't notice me at first.
Gathering my courage, I stepped into the room, my heart racing. "Mind if I join?" I asked.
They both looked up at me, surprise flickering in their eyes before Zac nodded. "Sure, if you get us two cold beers from the fridge," he said, his voice cool and detached.
I smiled and said, "So predictable," as I headed to the kitchen. The sound of their laughter followed me.
As I handed them the beers, the playful banter began, the tension of the previous night momentarily forgotten. Zac took his beer with a smirk, before his eyes drifted over to the TV. "You're going to need more than that to keep up with us, pipsqueak," he teased, but slid over on the couch, making room for me to sit between them.
I couldn't resist throwing a cheeky remark back at him. "Oh, I think I can handle it," I said, a smirk playing on my lips as I sat down, the warmth of the couch enveloping me as I squeezed in between their bulging frames. Henry's arm was already around the back of the couch, his armpit a heady mix of sweat and deoderant, and I felt myself leaning into it slightly, the scent of him bringing back thoughts of our secret trysts.
Zac opened his beer with a crack, the condensation already forming on the bottle, and took a long swig, the smirk still playing on his lips. "We'll see about that," he said, his eyes never leaving the TV.
Henry shot me a look, a hint of amusement in his gaze. He was oblivious about the incident with Jason, and I intended to keep it that way. I handed him his beer, and he took a swig, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. The sight made my cock stir, and I had to force myself to focus on the game.
The evening was a mix of playful banter and good-natured ribbing. Zac and Henry took turns poking fun at my lack of interest in sports, and I shot back with quips about their Neanderthal tendencies. It was a familiar dance, one that had played out countless times before.
The night grew later and the beers flowed more freely. The tension from the morning had mostly dissipated, but every now and then, Zac's eyes would flick to me, a knowing glint in his gaze that made my stomach flip. Eventually, he stood up with a stretch, his T-shirt riding up slightly to reveal the bottom of his abs, and announced that he had to take a leak.
As he walked away, I couldn't help but eye his broad back, the muscles flexing as he moved. His waist tapered down to his tight ass, showcased perfectly by the stretch of the fabric. The way his shorts hugged his muscular thighs made me feel a familiar stirring in my own. I quickly averted my gaze as he disappeared into the bathroom, not wanting to get caught ogling my brother like a teenage boy with a crush.
Henry's shoulder nudged against mine, a gentle reminder of his presence. He was grinning like a Cheshire cat, his eyes shining with something other than the effects of the beer. I turned to look at him, and that's when I noticed it: the unmistakable bulge in his loose gym shorts. It was so obvious that I felt a flush creep up my neck, my own cock beginning to respond to the sight. He caught my gaze and grinned wider, leaning back into the couch with a lazy stretch that only served to accentuate the bulge.
"You know, it's been three whole days since we had some fun," he said, the eagerness in his voice as palpable as the bulge in his shorts. "I've really missed it, and I haven't even cum once." He shot me a hopeful look, his hand casually brushing against his crotch.
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my own desire in check. The sight of Henry's bulge and the memory of his thick cock filling my mouth was almost too much to resist. But Zac was still in the bathroom, and the last thing I needed was to get caught again. "Yeah, me too," I said, my voice a little too high. "But right now isn't the best time."
"Come on, Dylan," Henry whined, his hand sliding down to stroke his erection through the fabric of his shorts. "You can start now. Just a little foreplay." He winked, his voice thick with need.
I took a deep breath, my eyes flickering to the bathroom door. "But what if Zac comes back?" I hissed.
"Don't worry about him," Henry said, his voice low and husky. "We'll be quick." He leaned over, his hand reaching for my own, guiding it to his shorts. "Just a little something to tide me over."
My heart raced as I felt the heat of his erection through the fabric. The game played on in the background, but my focus was solely on the pulsing flesh beneath my fingers. Henry groaned quietly, his eyes half-lidded with lust. I couldn't believe I was doing this again, especially after last night's encounter with Jason and the confrontation with Zac. But something about Henry's simple, uncomplicated desire was irresistible.
I took a deep breath and slid my hand into his shorts, my fingertips grazing the velvety skin of his cock. It was already rock hard, a testament to how much he'd been craving me. I wrapped my hand around him, stroking gently at first, feeling him throb in response.
"Fuck," Henry breathed, his eyes squeezing shut as he leaned his head back against the couch.
I watched his face contort with pleasure as I continued to tease him, my grip tightening slightly as I felt the pre-cum start to leak out. His cock was thick and hot in my hand, and I couldn't help but pull up his shirt and expose his muscular stomach.
My eyes traced the contours of his abs as I stroked him. "You really do have the best body out of all of us."
He chuckled, and I could feel his hand coming to rest on the back of my head. "Thanks, bro," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "But I'm the one who is dying for you to get on your knees again," he whispered, his eyes darting towards the bathroom door.
I licked my lips, feeling the weight of his desire in my hand. His cock was indeed massive, and I had become quite adept at handling it. I stroked him slowly, feeling his precum coat my fingers, and watched the muscles in his stomach clench and release with every stroke.
But the moment didn't last long. The sound of the toilet flushing echoed through the hallway, jolting me out of my haze. I knew I didn't had much time for our secret play. "Maybe later," I whispered, reluctantly withdrawing my hand from Henry's shorts. He groaned in frustration, but didn't protest as I readjusted my own posture, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible.
I was back to normal as soon as Zac re-entered the room, his eyes scanned the two of us before returning to the TV. Had he heard us? Probably just my imagination...
Zac sat back down, his thigh brushing against mine, and I could feel the heat radiating from his body. The bulge in his shorts was impossible to miss, and for a moment, I wondered if he was just as affected by the charged atmosphere as we were.
"Where were we?" he asked, his voice casual, signaling me he didn't know anything about what just happened.
"Nowhere important," I said, taking a sip of my beer before bringing my attention back to the game. My hand was still sticky from Henry's precum, but I wiped it discreetly on my shorts, hoping the scent of sex wouldn't linger in the air.
The game resumed its noisy chorus, the players' grunts and the crowd's roars filling the room. Zac's thigh remained pressed against mine, and I couldn't help but to eye the prominent bulge in his shorts. Why was he getting turned on?
I tried to focus on the TV, but my whenever I got my thoughts away from Zac, they always drifted back to Henrys thigh and the bulge that that didn't seemed to be shrinking... Henry had always been the more laid-back of the two, his muscles not quite as defined as Zac's but just as tantalizing. His hand rested comfortably on my thigh, his thumb tracing lazy circles. It was a casual gesture, one that could be easily dismissed as a sign of brotherly camaraderie. But in the context of our secret, it felt like a reminder of what he expected me to finish later.
The game was intense, with players crashing into each other on the screen, the sound of pads smacking against flesh echoing through the room. Yet, the tension between Henry and I was palpable. Every time the crowd cheered, I felt his hand tighten slightly on my thigh, his breathing growing more ragged. It was clear that our little interlude had only served to whet his appetite.
I sat there, my own cock straining against my shorts, torn between Zac finding and the overwhelming need to satisfy Henry. The room was a cocoon of testosterone, the scent of musk intoxicating as the three of us sat side by side.
As the game unfolded, Henry's hand moved towards his lap. He was leaning back, his posture one of relaxed ease, but I knew better. His hand, so casually placed, was a silent declaration of his intent. His dick, hidden beneath the loose fabric of his shorts, was probably hanging down his leg, thick and heavy with desire. I had to get out of there.
The game was taking longer than expected, with each play seemingly stretching on forever. The tension in the room was unbearable, not just from the unresolved standoff between the teams on the screen, but from the unspoken challenge between Zac and I. I knew I couldn't keep my hands to myself much longer, and the thought of Henry's cock, so close yet so far, was driving me crazy.
"Alright, that's enough football for me," I announced, feigning a yawn. "I'm going upstairs."
Both Henry and Zac turned to me. "What? It's almost over," Henry protested, his hand hovering over his crotch, the bulge still noticeable.
I shrugged. "Yeah, but I've lost interest," I said the truth, trying to ignore the way my own cock was now straining against my shorts. "You guys enjoy the rest of the game."
Zac's eyes followed me as I stood, but I was a master in hiding my desires by now. "You're bailing on us?" he asked, his tone playful. "Allright, your loss," he said with a smirk, turning his attention away from me and back to the TV.
I felt Henry's hand give my thigh a gentle squeeze, his eyes pleading, but I just gave him a knowing smile and winked. "Later," I mouthed silently, and he nodded, understanding the unspoken promise.
As I climbed the stairs, the sound of the game grew fainter, but the anticipation of what was to come grew louder. I knew Henry would follow me eventually, his need for release as palpable as the dampness in my palm from where I had wiped the precum. I just had to wait for the game to end, and Henry would make me his again.
The hallway was indeed dark, with only the faint light from the moon peeking through the crack in the curtains. I could hear the steady rhythm of my father's snores coming from his room, the door ajar. It was a small mercy that he was a heavy sleeper, oblivious to the clandestine activities that had become a regular part of my life.
I paused outside my room, listening to the steady crescendo of snores drifting from my father's open doorway. Then, with a silent nod to myself, I decided to change tactics. Instead of waiting for Henry in my own room, I would make my way to his, making our rendezvous a pleasantly surprising event. I tiptoed down the hall, along the carpet that muffled my steps, and gently pushed open the door to Henry's domain.
The room was a mess of football posters, dirty laundry, and half-empty protein shakes. The light that spilled in from outside was enough to make out the contours of Henry's unmade bed, the blankets thrown aside as if in a hurry.
I closed the door softly behind me, the click barely audible in the quiet hallway. The darkness in Henry's room was a bit annoying, but I didn't dare turn on the big light. Instead, I felt my way through the minefield of his mess, navigating by the faint glow of the streetlight outside his window.
My hand found the cool metal of his bed frame, and I followed it to the edge of his nightstand. The surface was sticky with a layer of dust, but I finally found the switch for his bedside lamp. I flicked it on, the dim bulb casting a warm glow that barely reached the edges of the room. It was perfect, so as not to attract Dad or Zac's attention in the hallway.
The smell of Henry's room was like a potent aphrodisiac—sweat, musk, and something uniquely him. I took a deep breath, letting it fill my lungs and fuel my arousal.
With the game's end approaching, I knew I had a few minutes to freshen up before Henry inevitably made his way to me. I tiptoed to the en suite bathroom, the cool tiles a stark contrast to the sticky warmth of the room.
Splashing cold water against my face, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. The face that stared back was flushed with excitement and apprehension. I could feel the beginnings of a beard prickling against my skin, a reminder that I hadn't shaved in a couple of days. I ran a hand over my chin, contemplating whether it was a good look for me.
Quickly, I dried my face with the towel hanging by the sink and stepped out of the bathroom.
The bed looked inviting, the rumpled sheets whispering of Henry's recent presence. I decided to play the seductive sibling, and took off my shirt and sweatpants, leaving me in just my boxers.
I laid down on his bed, my phone in hand, scrolling through the endless feed of social media, while I waited paitently for Henry.
As I scolled through my Insta feed, a picture of a gorgeous Instagram model caught my eye. She was kneeling on a bed, showcasing a set of red lingerie that left nothing to the imagination. My brain immediately made the connection to myself. Why not greet Henry in a similar fashion?
I knew by now that Henry had a thing for asses, and mine was certainly no exception. So why not give him an eyeful?
I slid my phone aside and shimmied out of my boxers, my cock springing free and slapping against my stomach. I didn't bother to cover up, instead, I rearranged the pillows so that my ass was sticking up in the air, presenting itself like a juicy peach waiting to be picked. The light from the lamp cast a warm glow over my body, highlighting the curves and shadows in a way that made me feel more confident than I had in a long time.
By the time Henry's heavy footsteps echoed down the hall, I had positioned myself on the bed, my heart racing with excitement. I heard talking to Zac, who must have followed him out of the living room.
"You're going to bed already?" Zac's voice was gruff, and I could feel the vibrations of his words through the floorboards.
"Yeah, I'm pretty tired," Henry called out, and I held my breath, hoping that Zac wouldn't follow him.
"This family... All three of you already in bed by 10," Zac said and I heard him chuckle as the door to most certainly his room creaked. "You guys are like a bunch of grandpas."
"Sleep is important," Henry replied with a yawn that sounded a bit too forced. "You should get some too."
"Yeah sure... Your dick looked like it was about to bust out of your shorts down there. I'm sure you'll do something else beforegoing to bed," teased Zac.
"Guess I'll see you in the morning," Zac shot after him, obviously making sure Henry didn't have a chance to answer.
The sound of his door closing shut echoed through the hallway, and that meant that now was my turn to play.
The footsteps grew closer, and the door to Henry's room hurled open. Henry's large frame filled the doorway, his eyes widening when they found me sprawled out on his bed. "Dylan..", but I was quick to place a finger to my lips, signaling for him to be silent. His eyes searched mine in the dim light, questioning and curious.
With a mischievous smile, I whispered, "Surprise." The words were barely out of my mouth before Henry's expression changed from confusion to understanding, and his hand was already on his front. I nodded, giving him the go-ahead, and he stepped into the room. I went back into position, facing away and waiting for Henry to start his part.
I heard him fumbling with his clothes, the sound of fabric on fabric. I could almost feel the heat of his desire as he hastily shed his shirt and shorts. The door clicked shut, the room falling into an anticipatory silence that was quickly shattered by the sound of his footsteps. Heavy and determined, they grew closer and closer, until they stopped right behind the bed.
My own body tingled with anticipation, my ass in the air like a flag of surrender to his primal instincts. The first sensation that hit me was the warmth of Henry's hands as they settled on my cheeks, spreading them apart. It was a familiar gesture, one that sent a shiver down my spine every single time.
In response to my silent invitation, Henry's warm, rough hands found their way to my ass, spreading my cheeks with a confidence that spoke of his recent familiarity with my body. I felt the change in his manner, the way his touch had grown bolder, more possessive.
He wasn't just looking to get off anymore; there was something in his behavior that suggested a deeper fascination with the act of being serviced by a man. Like he'd finally figured out that a man's body could feel just as good as a woman's body.
His boldness made me hope that he was going to take things even further, and that was exactly what happened next. The next thing I felt was the hot, velvety head of his cock pressing against my ass crack, his shaft sliding along the crevice of my cheeks, leaving a wet trail of precum that made me shiver.
"You okay with this?" Henry whispered, his voice thick with lust.
I didn't look up from my position and answered with my head bowed, my chin on the blanket and my hands in front of me. "It's okay, Henry," I whispered. "I'm here for you to have fun... Just don't stick it in."
I heard him let out a sigh of relief, his hands back on my cheeks. "I'm sorry, Dylan," he murmured, his voice a mix of embarrassment and desire. "I just can't help myself."
He repositioned slightly, and before I knew it, I felt the heavy weight of his cock slapping against my lower back. I was taken aback for a second, but relaxed instantly.
I still managed to forget that Henry was significantly taller than me, and that his height allowed him to kneel behind me while still keeping his erection on my back. The sensation was strange and thrilling, a stark reminder of the size difference between us.
He shifted closer, his warm breath ghosting over my neck. The tip of his cock teased my spine, the pre-cum leaving a slick trail that made me squirm. Henry was taking his time, savoring the moment, his hands continuing to squeeze and knead my ass cheeks. The weight of his cock grew heavier as he slid it along my back, the veins pulsing with each throb of his heartbeat.
With a grunt, he started to use me as a personal plaything, his cock pushing through between my ass cheeks and one of his palms. His remaining hand groping and kneading my cheeks, his fingers occasionally brushing against my tight hole. The sensation was intense, a mix of fear and excitement that made me want to both beg for more and push him away. But I knew I wasn't prepared for this and probably wouldn't be ready even if I were.
He began to thrust, his cock sliding along my crack, teasing my hole without breaching it. I bit my lip to keep from crying out, my mind racing with the realization of how this would look from an outsider's perspective.
If I could see this from afar, I'd see Henry, this towering mass of muscles, kneeling behind me, his cock like a battering ram, pummeling against my ass. His massive back flexing and stretching as he held onto my hips, guiding his length along my crack. His biceps bulging with the effort, veins popping as he held himself in place, his thick thighs pressing against my legs, his broad shoulders blocking out the remaining light. It was a scene of dominance and submission, painted in the stark light of the moon and the soft glow of the bedside lamp.
The sound of our breathing filled the room, punctuated by the occasional slap of skin on skin. Henry's grunts grew louder, his strokes becoming more erratic as he neared his climax. His hand found the base of his cock, and he began to jerk himself off, using my body as a canvas for his pleasure.
"Turn around," he rasped, his voice thick with need. I complied, my own cock bobbing in the air as I flipped over onto my back. The sight of Henry's powerful body, illuminated by the soft glow of the lamp, was enough to make me touch myself. His muscles rippled with each stroke of his hand, the veins in his biceps standing out as he held his thick cock.
For a moment, the thought occurred to me that Henry might not like seeing me touching myself, but he didn't say anything. Lost in his own pleasure, standing over me with a primal hunger in his eyes that I hadn't noticed before.
He had always been the gentle one, but now, as he took in the sight of me sprawled out on his bed, my body offered up for his pleasure, he seemed... ravenous.
His hands was wrapped around his thick shaft, pumping furiously. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his teeth were bared in a grimace of pleasure. He was close. So close.
I tried to mimic his rhythm with my own hand, feeling the pressure building in my cock. Each of his grunts and the smack of his hand against his shaft resonated in the quiet room and turned me on even more. In response, my own strokes grew faster and I made my thumb brush over the sensitive head of my cock, trying to match his growing orgasm.
Then, without warning, Henry's body tensed, his muscles rippling like a wave breaking over him. His eyes snapped open, and with a roar that seemed to shake the walls, he came. Thick ropes of cum shot out of his cock, painting my stomach and chest with his release. Some of it even hit my face, a few stray droplets landing on my cheek and hair. The force of his orgasm was proper, a testament to his sheer size and virility.
I followed suit, the feeling of his warm cum on my body sending me over the edge. I stroked faster, watching Henry's powerful form as he regained his breath, his chest heaving from the intensity of his climax.
My own orgasm hit me with the intensity of a sledgehammer, my body convulsing as I shot my load, adding to the sticky mess that now covered my chest and stomach.
As we both caught our breath, Henry leaned over me, his cock still pulsing and glistening with cum. "Bro," he said, a smirk playing on his lips, "That was intense...You really know how to take one for the team."
I couldn't help but laugh at his choice of words, the tension in the room dissipating slightly.
"Yeah, but I also had fun. " I said, trying to match his casual tone, "I guess it's a win win situation."
I sat up, the sticky mess on my chest and stomach sliding down my body.
"Damn right," Henry said, still panting. He leaned back on his haunches, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "I really needed that," he admitted, his cheeks flushing slightly.
"No problem," I replied, swiping at the cum on my chest with the back of my hand. "I know you're not into guys, Henry. But I figured you wouldn't mind if I got off too."
"It's fine, Dylan," he said, his voice a little hoarse from his recent climax. "You know I don't get turned on by it, but the few times when it's right there..." Henry shrugged. "I can ignore it."
What he said only strengthened my suspicion that he really doesn't like men, he only likes the idea of his little brother pleasing him whenever he wanted. And that's exactly what turned me on even more.
"Alright, I'll grab some tissues," Henry said, standing up from the bed.
I nodded, unable to tear my eyes away from his retreating form. His broad shoulders filled the doorway, his back muscles rippling as he stretched his arms to each side, reaching for the light switch. The bathroom light flickered on, and for a moment, I could see the definition of his abs, the sweat glistening on his skin.
When Henry returned, his hand was clutching a wad of tissues. I took them gratefully, the sticky warmth of his cum cooling against my skin. As I began to clean myself up, my eyes remained glued to him, watching as he bent over and picked up his discarded boxer shorts. His cock, still half-hard, sprang up as he pulled them back up, the tip peeking out over the elastic waistband.
It was an innocent gesture, but the sight of him handling his manhood so casually sent a fresh wave of arousal through me. I tried to ignore it, focusing on the task at hand and cleaned up the mess on my stomach.
After swiping off most of it, I stood up. "You should let some fresh air in," I suggested, moving towards the window. I pulled it open, letting the cool breeze wash over us, carrying with it the faint scent of rain. The sudden change in temperature made the hairs on my arms stand on end, a stark contrast to the sticky warmth that still clung to my skin.
"Yeah, good idea," Henry mumbled, his eyes still glazed over with satisfaction. He watched me with a mixture of curiosity and lust as I moved around his room, the moonlight playing across my naked body.
"I think I'm gonna go to bed now," I said, searching for my own boxers and shirt on the floor.
"Alright," Henry responded, walking towards the door and opening it for me. His gaze lingered on me as I passed by, and I couldn't help but feel a smug sense of power. It was clear that even though he didn't want to admit it, the sight of me was getting to him.
