Hello there, Al here, I just want to say this is my first time writing an erotic story that's pure filth, any feedback is appreciated, if you like the story, comment so I could write more..
ALDRIN'S P.O.V.
The thing about being the youngest in a house full of guys? You learn pretty fast that no one gives a shit about you unless they need something. And with three older brothers, there’s always someone needing something. I’m Aldrin Hudson, eighteen, just finished high school, and I’m about to spend my summer working whatever job I can get my hands on before heading off to college. Not the college I dreamed of—couldn’t afford it—but whatever. That’s life, right?
I live with my brothers in this tiny house that our parents left us when they... well, met Jesus or whoever it is out there. Brodie’s the oldest. He’s twenty-four, dirty blond hair, blue eyes, built like a tank from years of construction work, and the one holding this whole mess together, he is more like the father figure between my brothers and me. He dropped out of high school and has been working his ass off ever since. Three jobs. Construction, bartending, delivery. He’s the one who makes sure the bills get paid.
Then there’s Colton. Twenty-one, and if there’s a bigger piece of shit on this planet, I haven’t met him yet. Don’t get me wrong, he’s my brother, but… he’s a fucking mess, a hot mess. Always pissed off, always partying, always hanging out with the wrong crowd. Physically, though? Yeah, he’s something to drool over. He’s built, just like Brodie, only with a little more edge. The guy’s 200 pounds of muscle and trouble, and he knows it.
Last, there’s Damon. Nineteen, a year older than me. The nice one. The peacekeeper when shit gets bad, which is more often than not. Damon works at a gym, and it shows, though he’s on the leaner side. Quiet, strong, but he’s not loud about it like Colton. He’s in college too, but he’s all about keeping his head down and getting things done. He’s the one who keeps the peace when Colton’s being an asshole and Brodie’s about two seconds away from snapping.
And then there’s me. The youngest. The one who’s supposed to be the smart one, the one who’s not supposed to fuck things up. I run track, I’m lean, got that bubble butt, and I’ve got my head on straight most of the time. At least, that’s what everyone thinks.
But the truth is? I’ve got the most fucked up mind in all of us, why? Guess you’ll have to find out.
After a long-ass school day, I was more than ready to get home, hoping for some peace—but who was I kidding? The closer I got, the more I could feel the weight of it. The house was coming into view, and by the time I reached the entrance, I pushed open the front door and stepped inside, already bracing myself for whatever chaos I was about to walk into.
The second I got in, I saw Colton—sprawled out on the couch, one arm draped over the back like he owned the place, his phone in his other hand, fingers tapping furiously on the screen. His face was twisted into a scowl, and I could tell from the tension in his jaw that he was pissed off about something. Not that it mattered. Colton was always pissed off.
The second he saw me, he didn’t even hesitate.
“What the fuck took you so long, make me something I’m fucking hungry,” he barked, seethed looking up from his phone.
I froze for a second, staring at him. I’d just walked in the door, and already he was ordering me around like I was his personal servant. Typical Colton. Never a “Hey, how’s it going?” or even a “What’s up?” Just straight to the demands.
I sighed, dropping my bag on the floor.
“Can’t you make it yourself?”
His nose flared up like I’d just said something offensive.
“What’d you say, bitch?”
The word hit me like a slap, but not just because of the insult. It was the way he said it—rough, sharp, like he was daring me to fight back. I clenched my teeth, already feeling that familiar irritation bubbling up in my chest. Colton had this way of talking that made me want to punch something, but I wasn’t about to get into it with him. Not today. Not when I was already exhausted from dealing with school and thinking about how the hell I was going to make it through the summer without losing my mind.
“I just got home, man,” I muttered, but I was already heading toward the kitchen. Arguing wasn’t worth it. Colton wasn’t the type to let shit go. If I didn’t make him the damn sandwich, he’d probably find some other way to make my life miserable.
As I walked past him, I caught a whiff of him. Sweat and mixed with cologne—he smells so fucking manly, so intoxicating, it made my head spin. Even though he’s an asshole, I can’t lie about how he’s been the center of my messed-up fantasy.
My eyes flicked over him—his legs spread out lazily, sweatpants hugging his thick, trunk thighs. The bulge on his crotch, that’s hard to ignore, just the outline of his thick cock leaves little to the imagination. I know he’s fucking huge—I’ve seen it. Hell, I’ve jacked off thinking about it.
His chest rising and falling with each breath. His tank top clung to him, stretched tight across his broad chest and arms, like it was barely able to contain him. Just looking at him gives me boner. Colton was solid muscle, built from years of working out, and he wore it like armor. There was something about the way he moved, how arrogant he was, the way he looked pissed all the time, that made it impossible not to notice him. And I noticed. Every fucking time.
I opened the fridge, trying to shake the thoughts out of my head. Bread, cold cuts, cheese—whatever. I grabbed it all and started slapping together a sandwich, but my mind was still on him. On his musky scent, on the way his muscles flexed when he moved, on the way his voice rumbled when he talked. I hated how aware I was of him, how much space he took up in my head, in this house.
I walked back into the living room and tossed the sandwich down on the coffee table in front of him.
“Here. Eat.”
He glanced up at me, frowning.
“Took you long enough,” he muttered, picking up the sandwich and taking a bite. His jaw clenched as he chewed, the muscles in his neck tightening, and I could feel my face getting hot. I turned away quickly, heading back toward the kitchen before he could say anything else.
Back in the kitchen, I leaned against the counter, trying to get my head straight, but Colton was still there, lingering in my mind, his scent thick in the air. He smelled so fucking delicious.
From the living room, I heard him shuffle on the couch, then the sound of his phone ringing. Muffled words, then louder ones. He was arguing with someone, probably with some chick. Typical.
I grabbed a glass of water, hoping to drown out the noise, but his voice cut through the house like a knife.
“Fuckin’ hell, bitch! What do you mean you can’t come over?” Colton snapped, his voice sharp, pissed. There was a pause, then the thud of his phone hitting the couch.
“You serious right now?”
I froze, listening. He was pacing now, his heavy footsteps echoing through the house.
“You’re bailing on me again? I haven’t gotten any in three fucking days, and you’re gonna leave me hanging?”
I swallowed hard, my mind racing. I shouldn’t have been listening, but I couldn’t help it. His frustration was spilling out.
Another pause. More muffled yelling. Then, the unmistakable slam of his bedroom door. The whole house shook, the walls rattling.
Curiosity gnawed at me. I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t. But I found myself moving down the hallway toward his room, my heart pounding harder with every step.
I stopped just outside his door, hearing him mutter and grumble from the other side.
“This is bullshit…” His voice was low now, but still angry.
“Can’t even get laid. What the fuck?”
I stood there, frozen, hand half-raised like I was about to knock, but I didn’t. Instead, I lowered it and stepped back. What the hell was I doing? Why was I even here?
But then I noticed it—the small gap in the doorframe. The door hadn’t closed all the way, just a sliver open. Just enough to see through if I wanted to.
I leaned in, barely breathing, peering through the gap.
Colton was pacing, shirtless now. His muscles flexed with every step, sweatpants hanging low on his hips, his cock already straining against the fabric. He ran his fingers through his hair, his chest heaving like he was ready to explode.
I couldn’t look away. His body was all tension, all power, his frustration etched into every line, every flex of muscle under his skin.
He sat back on the edge of the bed, leaning against the wall, his legs spread wide, his hand sliding down to adjust himself.
“Fucking waste of time,” he muttered low, almost to himself.
“All that talk, and she can’t even follow through, might as well take care of this shit myself.”
Then, without hesitation, his hand slipped beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. My breath caught.
His hand moved inside, gripping himself, his jaw clenching as he started stroking, slow at first, then faster, rougher. His head tipped back, eyes shut tight, a low grunt escaping his throat.
“Fucking slut,” he growled, his hips bucking up slightly. “Ditching me cause’ her boyfriend’s back in town.”
I shouldn’t have been watching, but I couldn’t stop. My heart was hammering in my chest, my body frozen in place as I stared through that tiny gap. My eyes were glued to him. The way his muscles flexed, the way his hand moved, rough and fast, beneath his sweatpants, like he was pissed off even at himself.
His chest was heaving, muscles flexing with every movement. Then, without any hesitation, he tugged his pants down just enough, freeing his cock completely.
And Fuck, I almost shoot in my jeans.
It was thick, hard, and glistening at the tip with precum, catching the light. My breath stalled in my throat. My mind couldn’t wrap around the size of it—like I wasn’t sure if I was really seeing it right. 10 inches, maybe more. It felt unreal, but there it was, right in front of me, and Colton wasn’t slowing down. His hand moved, relentless, stroking himself with a tight grip, his jaw clenched, eyes shut, completely lost in the moment.
I was frozen, but my body had a mind of its own. My pulse was pounding through me, heat spreading everywhere, and before I even realized what I was doing, my hand was at my belt, unbuckling.
I hesitated for a second, but when I saw Colton's cock jerk in his hand, thick and dripping, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I unzipped, freed myself, and my hand wrapped around my own 7 inches cock, already hard, already aching.
I matched his rhythm, stroking myself as I watched him, my heart thundering in my chest. The floor beneath me creaked, but I didn’t care. My breath came out in short, shallow bursts, my body moving in sync with his, like I was caught up in whatever Colton was feeling, whatever was fueling him.
“Fuck, just gimme somethin’, gimme somethin’,” he muttered to himself, his voice rough.
“Shit.”
The sound of his hand moving over his cock, wet and rough, filled the room. He was relentless, his movements fast and hard. His head tipped back again, a low grunt escaping his throat that sent a jolt straight through me.
I couldn’t believe this was happening. Couldn’t believe what I was seeing, what I was doing. But I couldn’t stop either. I didn’t want to.
Then, the floor creaked again. Louder this time.
Colton’s movements stopped. His head snapped toward the door, meeting my eyes between the tiny gap, and before I could even react, he was standing up, his sweatpants still hanging low, his cock still out, glistening, thick, and heavy. The door swung open, and I stumbled back, my hand jerking away from myself, my heart slamming into my chest.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He seethed, looked at me ready to snap.
“Are you watching me jerk off, you sick little fuck.”
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. My mouth was dry, my heart hammering in my chest, sweat drip down my forehead. His eyes locked on mine, then flicked down to my open jeans, and hard cock dripping with precum. My hand still half-raised like I’d been caught in the act. Which I had.
Colton’s eyes narrowed, something dark crossing his face as he took a step toward me. His cock was still out, still hard, hanging thick between his legs.
“You jacking off, while spying on me, disgusting freak?” His voice was sharp, cutting through the haze of the moment.
I couldn’t answer. My heart was pounding so hard I thought I might pass out, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him. From the sheer size of him.
He noticed. Of course he noticed. His smirk was slow, dangerous, as he took another step closer.
“You never seen such a big dick, freak?” he asked. His hand moved lazily back to his cock, stroking himself again right in front of me, like it was nothing. Like he didn’t care who saw or who I was.
I stood there, frozen, my hand still hovering near my own cock, my breath coming in ragged bursts. I couldn’t lie. Not with him standing there, not with his cock right in front of me, still dripping, still hard.
“Yeah,” I breathed out, barely able to get the word out.
Colton’s smirk deepened. His eyes darkened as he took another step, closing the space between us until I could feel the heat radiating off his body.
“You wanna take a closer look?”
“You wanna feel your big brother’s cock?” he asked, quieter now, almost like he was daring me to deny it. And I can’t deny it. My throat’s dry and I’m very tempted to just reach for it. I slowly nodded, licking my lips.
Colton’s smirk deepened as he pulled me into the room, and the door slammed shut behind us, rattling the walls. The sound echoed in the small space, cutting through the air like a finality.
“Since I can’t get any…” His voice dropped lower, more menacing, as he backed me up against the wall. “Maybe you’ll take care of it.”
I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my throat. I should’ve said something, I should’ve pushed him away, but my body wouldn’t move. I was frozen, trapped between the wall and the sheer presence of him.
Colton’s eyes flicked down to my jeans, still undone from before, my hand hovering uselessly by my side. Colton’s smirk deepened.
His cock was right in front of me, thick and glistening at the tip, precum dripping down the shaft. My breath hitched as I stared at it, my mind struggling to process the sheer size, the thickness of him. It didn’t seem real—like something that big shouldn’t exist, let alone be so close.
“On your knees, fag,” Colton growled, his voice low, commanding. He didn’t wait for a response. His hand was already on my shoulder, pushing me down, and my legs gave way beneath me. My knees hit the floor hard, the sound echoing in the small room, but the pain barely registered. My mind was spinning, my body moving on autopilot.
I was eye-level with his cock now. Fuck. Up close, it looked even bigger—thick, hard, and slick with precum that glistened in the low light of the room. My mouth went dry, and I swallowed hard, trying to steady my breathing.
“That’s a good view. Bet you’re excited, freak,”
“Seeing your brother’s big cock up close.”
I couldn’t deny it, I feel like everything at this point is a dream. Colton’s hand slid to the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair, not too rough, but enough to let me know he was in control. His hips moved forward, just enough to brush the tip of his cock against my lips.
“Open wide,” he ordered, his voice rough, almost a growl.
My heart pounded in my chest, my body trembling with a mix of fear, anticipation, and something else I couldn’t name. I hesitated for a second, but then my lips parted, and Colton didn’t waste any time. He pressed forward, the head of his cock slipping into my mouth, thick and heavy on my tongue.
A low groan escaped him, and his grip on my hair tightened. “Fuck, yeah…just like that,”
The taste of him hit me all at once—salt and musk, the slickness of precum coating my tongue. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Couldn’t believe the size of him, stretching my lips wide as he pushed in deeper, inch by inch. My jaw ached with the effort, but I kept going, my hands gripping his thighs for balance. I feel my teeth grazed the skin of his shaft, and before I knew it, he pulled away, grabbing a fistful of my hair, forcefully, to make me look at him.
“Don’t use your teeth or I’ll fucking punch you.” He growled, my scalp burning from his grip.
“S—sorry” I stammered. He glared at me before loosening his grip a bit, though, it still hurts.
He lined his cock again and I quickly wrapped my lips over my teeth, making sure to be more careful this time before I take his hot thick meat to my mouth again, savoring the taste while inhaling his musky scent.
“That's better,” he said, pushing his cock deeper, thick and demanding, but I stayed calm, relaxing my throat as much as I could.
“If you keep it like that, we won’t have any problems."
Colton’s hips moved forward again, more insistent this time, and I felt his cock nudge the back of my throat. I gagged, choking slightly, but he didn’t stop. His grip in my hair tightened, and he pulled me closer, forcing me to take more of him.
“Fuck, yeah, choke on that big dick,” he grunted, his voice rough with satisfaction.
“Take it all, fag.”
My eyes watered, but I didn’t pull away. I couldn’t. I could feel my own cock, hard and aching, needing attention, but I couldn’t focus on that—not with Colton’s cock filling my mouth, relentless and overwhelming, I’m in fag heaven.
His hips started to move, slow at first, then faster, fucking into my mouth with a steady rhythm. His cock slid over my tongue, hitting the back of my throat again and again. My jaw ached, and my throat burned, but I kept going, my hands gripping his thighs tighter, trying to keep up with his pace.
“Holy fuck, what a tight throat pussy,”
He thrusted hard and fast, making me gag again on his cock. I felt my drool run down my chin as he relentlessly fucks my throat. It was a fucking mess, I tried to breath through my nose but it’s was becoming harder, I tried to pull away but his grip is tight around my head, making sure I don’t pull back.
Colton laughed under his breath, making me look up at him.
“You should see your fucking face right now. Hungry for your brother’s cock,”
“Bet, you like this don’t you? Your brother using your mouth as his personal fuck toy.” He said darkly, his voice low and mocking. I couldn’t deny it, I’m way into this, way into worshipping his big hot cock.
“Shit, If I had known I have this at home, I wouldn’t need to pick up random sluts.” He growled not slowing down.
His hip pushed harder, more relentless, making dizzy, I could almost see white. I feel my throat burning like crazy, but I stayed with him, taking everything he gave. His expression is so hot that I felt another batch of precum drips on my cock, but I’m way invested on sucking him.
“You take my cock better than any bitches,” he muttered, his breathing ragged, bead of sweat form on his forehead and body. His smooth abs glistened with sweat as it runs down from his chest, he looked 10 times hotter.
“Fuckkk, I’m bout to cum,” he groaned.
Colton’s breathing grew heavier, his groans louder, and I could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles flexed under my hands. He was close, I could tell—his movements more erratic, his grip tighter.
“Shit, fuck, Here it comes,” he groaned, his voice rough, strained. “Fuck, here it comes, take it all, slut.”
His hips jerked forward, and I felt the first hot pulse of his seed hit the back of my throat. I gagged, choking slightly, but Colton didn’t let go. He held me in place, his cock buried deep in my mouth as he shoots ropes of thick delicious cum, his grip on my hair painful.
I swallowed hard, trying to keep up, but it was too much—too fast. His cum filled my mouth, thick and salty, and I struggled to breathe, my throat working to take it all, I counted like maybe 10 or 11 ropes. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Colton pulled out, his cock slipping from between my lips, still slick and glistening.
I gasped for air, my chest heaving, my knees shaking beneath me. My mouth was sore, my throat raw, but all I could think about was the taste of him still lingering on my tongue, the weight of what had just happened settling in my chest.
Colton looked down at me, his chest still rising and falling, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, that smirk returned, lazy and satisfied.
“Good boy,” he muttered, his voice low, almost teasing, as he ran a hand through his hair, slicking it back.
“Knew you’d be good for something.”
Colton pulled his sweatpants back up, his cock disappearing beneath the waistband, still thick and glistening. His eyes never left mine as I sat back on my heels, gasping for air, my chest still heaving from the intensity of it all. My throat was raw, my lips swollen, but I couldn’t tear my gaze away from him.
“Go grab me a beer,” he said, his voice casual but commanding.
“Make it fast.”
I got up, swiping the cum that runs down to my chin back to my mouth, and Colton flopped down on his bed, grabbing his phone like nothing had happened.
“Don’t take too long,” he called after me, his voice laced with arrogance.
“I’m not done with you yet.”
