Something to Be Thankful For

I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that Thanksgiving last year was life-changing for me. Although Uncle Andrés has said nothing more about the night’s events and is just behaving as if it never happened, the experience totally transformed my relationship with my dad. That said, it also made things rather complicated. I was, at least, pleased to find that my ass went completely back to normal after the crazy stretching it had received, lol. I wasn’t really worried about that, but you know there are always people in forums and comments sections spewing slut-shaming bullshit about loose holes and stuff. I know they’re full of shit (internalized homophobia much?), but the idea was still planted somewhere in the back of my mind. 

Anyway, Dad and I obviously couldn’t tell anyone about what had happened or about how we felt about each other, but neither of us really wanted to go back to the way things had been. When we talked the morning after Thanksgiving, after everyone had left again to go shopping, we decided we’d try to catch moments together whenever we could but would be very careful not to raise suspicion, which unfortunately meant no more sneaking into my room at night. What if Mom woke up? That aside, though, the arrangement suited me just fine. I kind of liked the secrecy. The sneaking around made it all seem hotter.

Still, it wasn’t the easiest to find time alone, and in the next several weeks, we certainly never found ourselves with the amount of time together that we’d enjoyed on Thanksgiving. Instead, we had to make do with quickies here and there. Don’t get me wrong, I totally enjoyed having Dad drop a quick load in my ass while Mom was in the shower, but I wished we had more time to really enjoy each other’s bodies.

Anyway, it seemed like no time before Christmas came around, and once again, the whole family would be gathering at our house. We have a family tradition of having a big breakfast first thing Christmas morning and then opening gifts, so Mom managed to convince Mariana and Kenzo to spend the night Christmas Eve. Uncle Andrés would be staying with us too and would be taking Max’s room, which meant Max would be sleeping in my room with me. I wasn’t thrilled about that, since I knew he would insist on taking the bed because he was older and I’d be exiled to the floor. That was extra uncomfortable, thanks to the hardwood floors.

Max and I weren’t the closest. Part of it was the age gap, but mostly it was that he used to tease me constantly growing up. We had been getting along more lately, now that he was approaching 30, but he still loved getting a rise out of me. I think that he’s always thought he was just being playful, but I don’t know. I’d always felt there was a mean streak to it.

We didn’t look a whole lot alike. I took after Dad, apart from my height, but he’d always looked a lot more like Mom or like a younger, slimmer version of Uncle Andrés. Max had dark brown hair and brown eyes and had lately taken to wearing a neatly trimmed beard. He was about as tall as me. Physically, I guess you’d call him more an otter type—the one way he really took after Dad was that he was pretty hairy, though not nearly to the same degree. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t noticed that he was extremely handsome, but honestly, I think anyone would notice that, whether they liked guys or not.

Max got into town a few days before Christmas so he could spend more time with the family. When he arrived, Mom told him to take his stuff up to my room.

“What? That’s not fair!” I protested. “Mariana and Uncle Andrés aren’t staying with us for two more days. Why can’t he stay in his room?”

“Because there’s lots to do, and I don’t have time to wash the sheets and make up the beds again,” she said.

“Well then I’ll do it,” I countered. “I don’t want to sleep on the floor all week.”

“Oh, stop being a baby,” Max interjected. “It’s only a couple more days. You’ll be fine. Now, help me bring my shit upstairs.”

I considered objecting again, but I knew he’d never let me hear the end of it, so I gave in.

“Fine,” I said resignedly. “Come on.”

I grabbed the handle of his suitcase and started to lift it, but it was surprisingly heavy.

“Jesus, what do you have in this?”

“Gifts. What do you think, Misty? What’s the matter, too heavy for you? Give it here. You take the duffle bag.” Before I could object, he grabbed the handle out of my hand and headed upstairs.

Misty. I hated that fucking nickname. Short for “mistake,” a reference to my supposed accidental conception. It had been a while since he’d called me that. Guess it was going to be one of those kinds of visits.

After we dropped his bags in my room, we came back downstairs, and he announced that he was going out for a while.

“What?” Mom said. “You just got here!”

“I know,” Max responded. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back for dinner. I just promised Kyle I’d meet him for a drink when I got into town. I didn’t get to see him at Thanksgiving.”

“Oh, fine. But dinner’s at 6. Don’t be late.”

“I won’t, Mom.”

Max took off, and I went to the den to play video games for the rest of the afternoon—gotta take advantage of the Christmas vacation from school.

* * *

That night after dinner, Mom and Max went into the den to chat about his new job, while Dad and I went to do dishes and clean up the kitchen. As soon as we heard their voices in the other room, Dad took advantage of our brief alone time. He pushed me up against the wall and kissed me. Then we got to work.

It was maddening to be horny and alone together but not able to act on it. I knew it would be too risky to do anything, but that risk just made me want to do it more. Dad clearly felt the same way, because we kept exchanging grins and finding reasons to “accidentally” brush up against each other. At one point when I was at the sink, he came up behind me and reached past me for a damp rag, pushing his pelvis against my ass as he did so like he had that day when we’d put up Christmas lights. I grinned and pushed back. Just then, we heard Max’s voice right outside the room asking Mom if she wanted him to get her something to drink too. Dad quickly reached around and wet the rag under the faucet, providing a plausible reason why we might be standing in such close proximity, and then retreated to the stove to wipe it down. I’m not sure how convincing it was, but hopefully Max wasn’t paying attention.

After we finished cleaning up, we joined Mom and Max in the den, and we watched a movie together. It was almost midnight by the time we headed up to bed. As soon as Max and I got into the room, he pulled his shirt off and grabbed his duffle bag to toss it on the bed. As horny as I was after being alone with Dad, I perked up immediately. I felt like one of those meerkats you see in nature documentaries popping up on their hind legs and going on alert. I let my eyes linger on his shirtless form, appreciating his barely defined abs, his chest, the curve of his ass, the hint of crack that peeked up above his waistband as he bent over. I found myself fantasizing about sucking his cock and swallowing his cum.

I knew that it was objectively weird for me to be lusting after my brother, but I guess after everything that had happened in my life, I didn’t (and still don’t) have that hang-up anymore. It’s not like we’d have inbred babies. Where’s the harm in having a little fun and making each other feel good?

I shook myself out of my reverie and started getting ready for bed myself, which essentially meant stripping down to my underwear and throwing on a pair of loose shorts—no sleeping naked with Max in the room. I started by peeling off my shirt, and as I was pulling it over my head, Max offered commentary.

“Looking good, little bro. Packing on some muscle, I see.”

I blushed, partly at the compliment and partly at the fact that Max had noticed my body at all.

“Thanks. Yeah, I’ve been working out.”

“Keep it up and you’ll be able carry suitcases soon.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re not even that much bigger than me,” I shot back a little late.

“Then why are you so weak?” he said teasingly, throwing his T-shirt at my face. Then he grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste and headed for the bathroom.

I caught the T-shirt and watched him go. He could be such an asshole. I looked down at his shirt, and an idea occurred to me. I held it back up to my nose and inhaled. It smelled like him. Again, I thought of blowing him. I thought of burying my nose in his pits and biting his nipples and grinned. There was something about objectifying and fantasizing about him that felt like getting revenge, and it amused me.

When he was done in the bathroom, I went to brush my teeth, and upon returning to the bedroom, I found that he’d already climbed into bed and turned off all the lights. How typically inconsiderate, I thought as I pulled out my phone to use as a flashlight so I could navigate around the furniture to my makeshift bed on the floor. It was parallel to the actual bed on the far side of the room, where there was more space. In the glare of the flashlight, I saw a pair of boxer briefs lying on the floor next to my pillow. His boxer briefs. Was he sleeping naked?? The thought aroused me.

I crawled under my covers and turned off my phone’s flashlight, but I wasn’t ready to sleep just yet. I grabbed his underwear, held them to my nose, and inhaled, trying to catch the scent of his dick. I’m not sure there was much there, but I got off on the idea of it regardless. Max was snoring lightly by now, so I whipped off my covers and began beating off with his underwear over my nose, thinking about how he was naked just a couple feet from me. I came pretty quickly. I used his underwear to clean up my cum and then threw them in my hamper, knowing I could retrieve them later if I wanted.

The task accomplished, I covered myself back up and fell right to sleep.

* * *

When I woke up the next morning, Max was already up, dressed, and downstairs. That annoyed me, as I’d held out some hope that I’d see him naked when he got out of bed. I shot a look at the hamper. I’d woken up with morning wood and needed to get off before going down for breakfast. I fished out Max’s underwear and then paused to consider. The idea of fucking myself with a toy with his underwear in my mouth, pretending he was fucking me, was pretty appealing. Did I have time? Maybe I could do it under the blanket. That way, if Max came back up, I could pretend I was just waking up. He’d be none the wiser. He might even stand there talking to me while I secretly had a dildo in my ass. That would be so hot.

Making up my mind, I sat on the edge of my bed and bent over to open the bottom drawer of my nightstand, where I kept my toys. I didn’t even have the drawer halfway out when the door flew open.

“Hey, Misty. Breakfast is ready. Mom sent me to wake you up.”

I jumped, startled by his sudden appearance, and moved fast to cover up my activities. I dropped his underwear and shoved them under the bed with my foot. Then I stood and turned to face him, trying to surreptitiously close the drawer with the back of my leg.

“I’m awake. I’ll be right down.”

“Might want to wait a bit,” he said with a wry grin, nodding in the direction of my crotch.

I looked down. Fuck, I was still hard. I quickly and awkwardly covered my erection with my hands, but he was already out the door. Since they were expecting me soon, I’d have to abandon my plan to get off. Mom might come looking for me next, and that thought helped my morning wood go away. So, I got dressed and headed downstairs.

* * *

The rest of the day was unremarkable. After breakfast, Mariana swung by to pick up Max so they could go catch up over coffee somewhere. I returned to the den to play video games. Max got back around 1 pm to grab some lunch, and then he and Dad went out for a beer or two while I helped Mom wrap gifts.

When they got back, Max said he wanted to take a shower and headed upstairs. I immediately got excited. This might be a great opportunity to “accidentally” see him naked. I knew he wouldn’t leave the bathroom door open like Dad had that fateful Saturday in November, but if I was lucky, he might strip in the bedroom and just wrap a towel around himself to head to the shower. That had been his habit when he’d still lived here. If I timed this right, I could barge into the bedroom on the pretense of grabbing something and catch a glimpse of his cock.

I ran upstairs and paused in the hallway for what seemed like the amount of time it would take him to strip. Then I whipped open the door, walked into the room, and froze. Max was standing there, towel already around his waist, with my nightstand drawer open and my Dad-sized dildo in his hand. On hearing me enter, he spun around to face me.

“Oh ho ho, what’s this?” he said, grinning and waggling the dildo in front of him. “Little bro’s got a drawer of dicks! Shouldn’t just leave it open. You never know who might walk by.”

Shit. I must not have closed it all the way that morning. I quickly shut the door behind me.

“What the fuck, Max? What are you doing going through my stuff? Put that back,” I said angrily.

“A dildo drawer,” he said gleefully, ignoring my outburst. “And look at the size of this one! Not that there’s anything wrong with that.” He winked at me.

“Jesus, Max.”

“So, you like having a cock up your ass. You have a boyfriend? What’s your type? Twinks? Daddies? Is that why Dad was tiptoeing around in the hallway Thanksgiving night? Did he come to give it to you good?” he joked.

I went pale. “What! No … what are you talking about? Gross!” I spluttered.

His eyes went wide. “Wait, are you serious? It is! I was just kidding around. You and Dad were fucking?!”

“No! You’re fucking crazy. I’m just … flustered. Put it back!”

“You and Dad were fucking,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Give it back!” I repeated, crossing the room to grab the dildo out of his left hand. I was too slow. He yanked his hand away and passed it to his other hand.

“What, can’t wait to get a dick back in you? You gonna hop on it right now and call out Dad’s name?”

“Fuck you!” I said as I struggled to pry the dildo out of his right hand, but he just put it behind his back and gripped it tightly with both hands. “Goddammit! Why are you like this?”

I reached around to grab both of his arms and try to pull them apart. As I did, he suddenly leaned in and kissed me, violently. I was so stunned that I forgot about the dildo and instead pushed him away.

“What the fuck was that?”

He just shrugged and tossed the dildo back in the drawer. “You’re telling me you didn’t like it?”

“No … I mean, yes … I mean … I don’t know what’s happening.”

“What’s happening is that I just kissed you, and you’re getting hard.”

I looked down. Shit! He was right.

“Max …”

He stepped forward and kissed me again, and this time I didn’t struggle. I leaned into it. He broke the kiss and grinned mischievously. Then he pushed me back onto the bed and dropped his towel. When he did, I could see that he had gotten hard too. He had a really nice cock. It was nowhere near as big as Dad’s but still bigger than average—around seven inches, or about the same size as me.

“You’re bold,” he said as he reached down and unbuttoned my pants. “I didn’t buy my first dildo till I moved out.”

Before I had time to process that statement, he grabbed the waistbands of my pants and my underwear and pulled them both down in one swift motion.

“Nice,” he said on seeing my dick. Then he dropped to his knees, wrapped his lips around my cock, and proceeded to blow me.

He was really fucking good at it, too. He bobbed up and down, using his hand and his mouth in conjunction to pleasure me. From time to time, he would look up and lock eyes with me with my cock in his mouth, and it was a beautiful sight. I got excited and started to thrust up into his mouth, but he quickly pulled off my dick, grabbed both of my thighs, and pushed me down into the bed, holding me still.

“You don’t move unless I tell you to, got it?”

“O-OK,” I stammered, surprised but turned on by the tone of command in his voice.

“Over,” he said. “Spread your legs and bend over the bed.”

I obeyed, and he dove face first into my ass. He was as good at rimming as he was at blowing. I moaned as he sucked on my hole and then worked his tongue inside. He proceeded to alternate between running his tongue around the exterior rim of my ass and tongue fucking me, pausing occasionally to bite my ass cheek or spit on my hole. I lay there, enjoying the sensations and thinking about the fact that I’d now had both my dad’s and my brother’s tongues in my ass.

Suddenly, he stood, spit on his dick, and shoved it into my ass in one go. No warm up, no easing me into it, he just buried himself to the hilt inside me and then started fucking me hard. He was pounding my ass with such force that the bed started to move and my ass cheeks started to sting as if I were being spanked. It wasn’t exactly comfortable. I tried to stand up to get a better angle, but he pushed me back down face first on the bed without even disrupting his rhythm.

“I told you, you don’t move without my permission.”

This was unbelievably hot. A thrill of excitement (and perhaps a little fear) ran through me, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“You think that’s fucking funny?” he asked.

Then he leaned forward to grab my shoulders and used the leverage to pound me even harder.

“Fuck,” I moaned. It hurt so good.

Finally, he stopped and stepped back.

“On the bed. Lay on your back,” he commanded.

I did so, bending myself in half to grant him better access to my ass, and he crawled between my legs and rammed his cock into me again. He didn’t immediately start pounding me, though. Instead, he leaned over me and looked deep in my eyes as he fucked me slowly, more gently. After a while, he leaned down and kissed me. Then he pulled back and spit directly into my mouth with force. I felt it hit the back of my throat. He leaned down again and pressed his lips to mine, but instead of kissing me, he reached up and pinched my nose with his fingers and then held his breath. My airways blocked, I couldn’t breathe. I tried to suck in air without success until suddenly, he breathed out and his air passed directly into my lungs. Then I breathed out while he breathed in. We continued on for a few seconds exchanging breath like that, and it was truly the most intimate thing I’d ever experienced. Eventually he pulled away and let go of my nose, letting me take in fresh air. Then he did it again, slowly fucking me as we exchanged air. Finally, he pulled back, spit in my mouth again, and started pounding me.

At first, he held my legs apart while he fucked me, but then he brought them together and held them with one hand, using the other to slap my ass.

“Fuck. Yes,” he growled.

He thrust into me hard two more times and started unloading shot after shot of cum deep in my ass. Once he stopped shooting, he paused only a moment before pulling out, dropping my legs straddling my chest, and commanding me to clean off his dick. I did so eagerly, swallowing whatever cum and ass juices were left on it. He pushed his still semi-hard cock all the way in until it was down my throat and my nose was smashed against his body. Then he pulled out entirely, pivoted so that he was facing away from me, and stuck his ass in my face.

“Eat my ass,” he ordered.

I immediately started rimming him, following his and Dad’s examples by trying to thrust my tongue in and taste his insides.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” he said. “Get in there.” And he started rocking back and forth slightly.

Eventually, he leaned over and started sucking my cock again while I licked his hole. He took advantage of the angle and deep-throated me, pressing his nose into my balls and even grabbing my ass to pull me toward him to get every inch he could down his throat. Then he started bobbing up and down, pulling all the way off my dick and then slamming down till I was balls deep again. We continued on like this for several minutes. Finally, he pulled off one last time, sat up, and whirled around so that he was once again facing me. He grabbed my dick to hold it still and then sat on it. As he did, his eyes rolled back.

“Fuck,” he said.

Fuck indeed. I felt the head of my cock sliding against the silky walls of his ass. He lowered himself onto my pole until he bottomed out, which caused him to get hard again. He sat in place for a moment to get used to it, and I enjoyed the warmth of his body wrapped around my member. It made me throb inside of him.

Finally, he started riding me. I watched his muscles flex as he rolled his hips, milking my cock, and I was awed by the beauty of his body. And every time I thought about the fact that I was fucking my brother, my dick twitched. Soon he switched it up, using his legs to raise himself completely off my dick before slamming back down, fucking himself almost as hard as he’d fucked me. I couldn’t take my eyes off his hole, which gaped open whenever my dick left his ass.

Without warning, he stopped and leaned over to grab the dildo from the drawer. He lubed it up and then reached back and shoved it in my ass. Then he resumed riding me.

“You’re going to give me your load,” he said as he bounced on my dick.

I wanted nothing more. I let my eyes wander up his body—over his hard cock, bouncing and leaking precum onto my stomach; over his pubes and his abs, rippling as he moved; over his pecs and his pits. I took in his handsome face, his dark features, his lips, his smattering of freckles, his deep brown eyes. I stared at his body as a whole, watched my cock fucking him, and felt an overwhelming sense of lust. He was an incredibly handsome, sexy receptacle for my cum, and I pictured myself pumping load after load into him, filling him up. The thought brought me right up to the edge.

“I-I’m going to cum.”

“Fuck yeah,” he said, and placing his hand on my chest for leverage, he started slamming down onto my cock faster and harder.

It was too much. I pictured cum spurting out of my dick and flowing deep into his guts and thought about how much he wanted it, and that sent me over the edge. I blew, and with the dildo pressed up against my prostate, I blew hard and came so much.

When I stopped shooting, he flew off my dick, whirled around, and stuck his ass in my face. I didn’t need instructions. I immediately started sucking my cum out of him and thrusting my tongue deep in his wide-open ass while he furiously jerked off. In less than a minute, I felt hot wads of cum hitting my chest, stomach, and cock. He collapsed on top of me, breathing heavily, and trickles of cum kept leaking from his ass onto my chin.

After a few moments of repose, he rolled off of me, turned himself around, and proceeded to clean my dick with his mouth and then lick his cum off me from bottom to top, kissing me when he reached my mouth. We swapped the cum in his mouth back and forth between us as our tongues wrestled. Then he pulled back, spit into my mouth, and clamped his hand over my mouth.

“Swallow it,” he ordered.

I did.

He smacked my cheek and said, “That’s good.” Then he hopped off the bed, went to his duffle, and started pulling on clothes. “You’re going to give me that ass whenever I want while I’m here.”

With that, he left the room, not waiting for a response.

Smiling to myself, I pulled the dildo out of my ass, got up, and headed for the shower. This was going to be a great Christmas.

Author's Note: Thought I should clarify that all holes are great, loose or tight. The stuff at the beginning was about those who try to shame people who enjoy sex and/or like to get DPd or fisted by claiming that their holes are "ruined" (used in a pejorative sense) or too loose to please a top—messaging that I think young gay men in particular are susceptible to. There's no shame (and for some, there's even pride) in having a loose hole, but the idea that one's hole can become permanently loose is mostly a myth.