The hot water beat down on them, but Rishav was consumed by a different kind of heat. The sight of Ansh’s cum, his cum, still painting his thigh even as the soap tried to wash it away, unlocked something desperate and wild inside him.
He dropped to his knees on the wet tile floor, the water plastering his hair to his forehead. His hands grabbed Ansh’s thick, muscular thighs, his eyes fixed on the heavy cock swaying in front of his face, already half-hard again just from their filthy shower.
“Ansh,” Rishav begged, his voice cracking with need. “Please. Fuck my mouth. I need to taste you again. I need to taste us on you. Let me suck your fucking cock while I jerk off.”
Ansh looked down, his expression a mask of dark, voracious pleasure. He fisted his own cock, stroking it to full, rigid hardness right in front of Rishav’s desperate face. “You want to be my little cocksucker, cousin? You want to get on your fucking knees and service me?”
“Yes! God, yes! I want your dick in my throat. I want to taste your fucking load all over again. Please, Ansh.”
“Then open that pretty fucking mouth,” Ansh commanded, his voice rough.
Rishav obeyed instantly, his lips parting, his tongue darting out. Ansh didn’t tease. He guided the slick, purple head of his cock past Rishav’s lips, a groan rumbling deep in his chest as the wet heat enveloped him. Rishav’s own hand flew to his aching cock, stroking himself in frantic, desperate pulls.
“That’s it,” Ansh groaned, his hips giving a shallow, testing thrust. “Take it. Suck your cousin’s dick like the nasty little slut you are.”
Rishav moaned around the thick intrusion, the vibration drawing a hiss from Ansh. He hollowed his cheeks, sucking hard, his tongue swirling around the sensitive head, lapping at the pre-cum already beading there. The taste was musky, male, and uniquely Ansh—a flavor he knew he’d be craving forever. His own hand worked his cock faster, his hips bucking into his fist.
“Fuck, your mouth is so good,” Ansh panted, his fingers tangling in Rishav’s wet hair, not forcing, just holding. Guiding. “You look so fucking perfect like this. On your knees for me. My cock in your mouth, your hand on your own dick. You’re such a greedy fuck, Rishav. You can’t get enough, can you?”
Rishav shook his head, the motion making him gag slightly on the thick length, tears welling in the corners of his eyes. He loved it. He loved the feeling of being used, of being the reason for his powerful cousin’s pleasure.
Ansh’s thrusts became more purposeful, fucking into the wet, willing heat of Rishav’s mouth. “You’re gonna make me cum. You’re gonna swallow every fucking drop, you understand me? I want to feel you drinking me down.”
The threat, the promise, sent a jolt through Rishav. His own orgasm was building, a tight coil low in his gut. He nodded eagerly, sucking harder, his muffled moans music to Ansh’s ears.
Just as Rishav felt his balls draw up, Ansh pulled his slick cock from Rishav’s mouth with a wet pop. Rishav whined, a desperate, needy sound.
“Not yet,” Ansh growled, his eyes burning with a new idea. He hauled Rishav up by his arm, turning off the water. He didn’t bother with a towel. He just dragged his dripping wet cousin out of the shower and across the cool bathroom floor to the large vanity mirror.
He bent Rishav over the sink, the cold porcelain a shock against his stomach. Ansh pressed against his back, his still-hard cock nestling against Rishav’s soap-slicked ass.
“Look,” Ansh whispered, his voice gravelly right next to Rishav’s ear. He forced Rishav’s head up, making him look at their reflection. “Look at us. Look at what we’re doing.”
Rishav’s breath caught. Seeing it was almost too much. His own face, flushed and desperate. Ansh’s powerful body dwarfing his, one hand splayed possessively across Rishav’s stomach, the other guiding his cock. He watched in the mirror as the thick head pressed against his loosened, used hole.
“You see that?” Ansh grunted, pushing forward. “You see my cock stretching your fucking hole open? You see how you take me? You were made for this, Rishav. Made to take my fucking dick.”
He plunged in, a single, brutal thrust that buried him to the hilt. Rishav cried out, his back arching, his fingers scrambling for purchase on the slick counter. The feeling of being filled so completely, so suddenly, while watching it happen, was overwhelming. Another warm trickle of leftover cum escaped around Ansh’s shaft, dripping down his thigh.
“Fuck! Ansh!”
“I told you I wasn’t done,” Ansh snarled, his eyes locked on their reflection. He set a punishing pace, his hips slamming against Rishav’s ass, the sound of wet skin on skin echoing in the tiled room. “I’m gonna fuck another load into you. I’m gonna pump you so full of my fucking seed there won’t be any doubt who you belong to.”
He leaned forward, his mouth next to Rishav’s ear, his breath hot. “You feel how deep I am? You feel me in your guts? I’m planting myself so fucking deep inside you, Rishav. My cum’s gonna take root. You’re gonna walk out of here bred. Pregnant with your cousin’s fucking baby. You want that? You want me to knock you up?”
The filthy, impossible words were the final trigger. Rishav’s orgasm ripped through him with a broken shout, his cock jerking and spurting streaks of white across the bottom of the mirror, his ass clamping down viscously around Ansh’s pounding cock.
The violent clenching was too much for Ansh. With a guttural roar, he slammed home and held there, his body shuddering as he emptied himself. Rishav could feel the hot, wet pulses deep inside, another claim, another deposit of that addictive, forbidden heat.
They stayed there for a long moment, panting, connected, watching their wrecked reflections in the cum-streaked glass. Ansh finally softened, slipping out, followed by a gush of his release that dripped down Rishav’s legs and onto the floor.
He turned Rishav around, his gaze intense. He dipped his fingers into the fresh mess leaking from Rishav’s body and brought them to Rishav’s lips.
“Taste it,” he ordered, his voice low. “Taste what I put inside you.”
Ansh’s hands were on him instantly, pulling him from the vanity, dripping and spent, back toward the bed. His cock was already rock hard again, slapping against Rishav’s thigh as he maneuvered him onto the mattress.
“On your hands and knees. Now,” Ansh commanded, his voice a gravelly promise of what was to come. There was no hesitation left in Rishav. He got into position, presenting his ass, still leaking a mixture of their releases onto the rumpled sheets.
Ansh knelt behind him, one hand gripping Rishav’s hip hard enough to bruise, the other guiding his thick cock. He didn’t need lube. The mess they’d already made was more than enough. The slick, wet head of his dick pressed against Rishav’s stretched, sensitive hole and pushed in with one smooth, brutal thrust.
“Fuck! Yes!” Rishav cried out, his head dropping between his shoulders as that incredible, soul-stealing fullness claimed him again.
Ansh set a punishing rhythm immediately, fucking into him with deep, powerful strokes that shook Rishav’s entire body. Each slam of his hips was a punctuation mark on his filthy words. “This ass… this perfect fucking cousin-cunt… it’s mine. You understand? Mine. It belongs on my fucking cock.”
Rishav could only moan, pushing back against him, meeting each thrust. The sound of their bodies slapping together was loud and obscene in the quiet room.
Then Ansh’s hand snaked underneath him, his strong fingers wrapping around Rishav’s aching, neglected cock. The dual sensations were overwhelming—the deep, internal pounding and the tight, sure stroking.
“Oh, god, Ansh…”
“You feel that?” Ansh grunted, his rhythm never faltering. “You feel my cock in your ass and my hand on your dick? This is what you needed, wasn’t it? You needed your cousin to own every fucking part of you.”
“Yes! Don’t stop! Fuck, please don’t stop!” Rishav babbled, his fingers twisting in the sheets. He was hurtling toward another orgasm, his body singing with pure, unadulterated pleasure.
“I’m gonna fill you up again,” Ansh promised, his voice strained with his own building release. “I’m gonna pump another load so deep inside you, you’ll taste it. You’re gonna be dripping me for a week, Rishav. My fucking seed is gonna be leaking out of your well-fucked hole while you sit at your desk tomorrow.”
The filthy image, the sheer possession in his words, was Rishav’s undoing. His orgasm crashed over him, his cock pulsing wildly in Ansh’s tight fist, his ass clenching rhythmically around the cock that was still vigorously fucking him.
Ansh swore, his thrusts becoming wild, animalistic. He buried himself to the hilt and held there as his own release flooded into Rishav, a hot, wet rush that seemed to go on forever. They collapsed together onto the bed, a tangled, sweaty, sticky mess.
Later, as they dressed in a silence thick with unspeakable things, Ansh looked at him, his expression unreadable. “This doesn’t change anything out there.”
“I know,” Rishav whispered, his voice hoarse.
“We leave. We go our separate ways. We don’t speak of this.”
Rishav just nodded, the words feeling like a physical blow.
“But if you need this again…” Ansh added, his voice dropping to that low, commanding octave that made Rishav’s knees weak. “You know how to find me.”
The reception was a blur of garish lights, loud music, and the oppressive weight of family. Rishav stood near the edge of the dance floor, a untouched plate of food in his hand, trying to seem normal. Trying to forget the feel of his cousin’s cum leaking out of him for two days straight.
Then a familiar presence was at his shoulder, a warm hand brushing the small of his back. A shiver racked Rishav’s entire body.
“Having fun?” Ansh’s voice was a low murmur, meant only for him.
Rishav couldn’t look at him. “It’s a reception.”
Ansh chuckled, the sound dark and knowing. He leaned in closer, his lips almost touching Rishav’s ear. His breath was hot. “You’re walking a little carefully. You still sore from the other day? From when I was fucking that ass doggy style and jerking you off until you screamed?”
Rishav’s face flushed a deep, hot red. He could feel every pair of eyes in the room on them, even though no one was looking. “Ansh… don’t…”
“Don’t what?” Ansh’s tone was pure innocence, but his words were poisonously erotic. “Don’t remind you how you begged for it? Don’t remind you how my hand felt on your cock while I was buried inside you? Don’t remind you what it felt like when I came inside you for the second time?”
He stepped even closer, his body shielding Rishav from the rest of the party. “You’re blushing, cousin. Your whole neck is red. It makes me want to bite it right here in front of everyone.”
The threat, the promise, sent a jolt of pure lightning to Rishav’s cock. He was hard in an instant, straining against his dress pants. He felt dizzy, the noise of the party fading into a dull roar.
“I can’t stop thinking about it,” Rishav breathed, the confession torn from him. “I can’t stop feeling you.”
Ansh’s eyes darkened with a fierce, possessive fire. “My place. It’s ten minutes from here. My parents are staying here until midnight.”
It wasn’t a question. It was a command.
“I can’t,” Rishav said, but it was a weak protest, his body already screaming yes.
“You can. And you will.” Ansh’s hand slid down, his fingers brushing against Rishav’s ass in a gesture that looked casual but felt anything but. “I want to fuck you in my bed. I want to see you on your back with your legs in the air. I want to watch my fucking dick disappear into that ass on my sheets.”
Rishav’s composure shattered. The need was a physical ache, a throbbing desperation that overrode every shred of reason, every thread of fear.
“Please,” he begged, the word a barely audible whisper. “Please, Ansh. Take me home and fuck me. I need it. I need you to fuck me again.”
