***Hey guys, I know I had been MIA for a long time but anyway here's another brothers' story from the vault. Just a little disclaimer, characters are 18 and above. This a gay incest story please read the tags. If it's not your cup of tea go drink coffee. You have been warned.***
Third Person's pov
The ceiling had one crack Vinny had been staring at for the last twenty minutes.
His phone was warm against his chest. He’d been scrolling through nothing for an hour, just killing time.
The house was quiet. Too quiet.
His brother Marco had left about an hour ago for some last big party with his football friends before everyone scattered for college. Vinny could still remember him standing in the doorway, car keys hanging from one thick finger, blond curls still a mess from the shower.
"You sure you don't wanna come, V?"
"Nah. It's your thing."
"It's not my thing. It's just a thing." Marco grinned. "There's pizza. Girls. Guys. Whatever you're into."
Vinny laughed, but it came out sharper than he meant it to.
"I'm good."
Marco had looked at him for a second longer than necessary. Those deep blue eyes narrowed slightly, like he was trying to figure out what Vinny wasn't saying. Then, because Marco was Marco, he let it go.
“Alright, little bro. Don’t stay up jerking off to anime or whatever.”
“Fuck off.”
“Love you too.”
Then he'd left. The front door had slammed, his footsteps had disappeared, and just like that, Vinny was alone again with the silence, the crack in the ceiling, and that same heavy feeling sitting in his chest that had been there practically all summer.
Two years. That was the gap between them.
Marco was twenty, built like a goddamn Greek god and looked like one too. Broad shoulders, thick arms, sharp jaw. Muscular without being one of those guys who looked like they couldn't fit through a damn doorway. He was tanned from years of football practice, along with a year spent mowing lawns and fixing fences for extra cash.
He should've graduated the year before. He would've, if not for some asshole who drugged Vinny at their victory party.
Vinny still didn't like thinking about that night. He remembered enough to know what could've happened if Marco hadn't shown up at the right time. After that, everything went to shit. Marco found the guy, put him in the hospital, got suspended, and ended up having to repeat his senior year because of it.
Marco hadn't always been scary like that.
When they were kids, he'd been skinny. All elbows and knees, with scraped-up shins and a permanent bruise somewhere on his body. But sometime around sophomore year of high school, Marco discovered the weight room like it was a religion, and now he walked around looking like God was playing favorites.
And Vinny? Vinny wasn't exactly a slouch himself. He was on the soccer team, had decent definition, a runner's build, and enough muscle to know he wasn't wasting his time.
But next to Marco, he still felt like a sketch beside a finished painting.
They’d wrestled earlier that day. Right on the living room floor, like when they were kids. Marco had pinned him in about four seconds, his forearm pressed gentle across Vinny’s throat, his weight solid and warm and everywhere.
“Getting slow, little bro.”
“Get off me, you big gorilla.”
“Make me.” Marco’s grin had gone crooked. “You’re not trying hard enough.”
The weird part, the thing Vinny couldn't stop thinking about now as he lay there, was how his body had reacted to being pinned. That hot flutter in his stomach. The way he almost got a boner from just feeling his big brother on top of him.
He wasn’t supposed to feel that. Not for his brother. It was weird. It was disgusting.
But Vinny had known for a while now that he wasn’t exactly straight. The clues were all there if he was honest with himself: the way he looked at guys in the locker room, the way his eyes lingered on certain bodies, the way he’d jerk off thinking about things that definitely weren’t in the straight-guy playbook.
There’d been Jeremy. The neighbor. Vinny had been thirteen, Jeremy was nineteen—and yeah, okay, that was fucked up, Vinny knew that now.
At the time he’d just thought it was exciting. Jeremy had taught him what it felt like to have a dick in his mouth, to feel a guy tense up and groan and spill hot and thick across his tongue. It had been messy and thrilling and terrifying, and then Jeremy’s family moved away and Vinny never told anyone.
Now he was eighteen. Marco was leaving for college in a month. And Vinny still didn’t know what the fuck he was.
He needed to know. Needed to figure out what the hell he actually was. Gay? Bi? Pan? Some color of the rainbow he hadn't even heard of yet?
His phone buzzed pulling him out of his thoughts. A Grindr notification.
He’d installed it three days ago, then deleted it, then installed it again. The first time he’d matched with someone who used a photo that looked suspiciously like the assistant soccer coach, and Vinny had panicked and deleted the whole app. But tonight—tonight he felt reckless. Lonely. Curious.
He’d also downloaded something called Cruiz, a cruising app, which was apparently more “discreet.” Less faces, more bodies. A grid of torsos and lower-ab shots, all carefully cropped to hide identifying marks.
Vinny closed his Grindr app after reading the message. It was the same thing again. Asking if he was looking for some fun or wants to trade albums.
He opened the cruising app and just scrolled through the map, looking for guys who are close by.
Most of them were nothing special. Gym selfies. Mirror pics. The usual.
But there was one. Three kilometers away. Currently online.
The profile name was just “JockGuy22.” The photo was a lower-body shot—thick thighs in gray sweatpants, one hand resting casual on a very noticeable bulge. No face. No background details. But something about the way he stood, the confident tilt of his hips, made Vinny’s finger pause mid-scroll.
He tapped the profile before he could talk himself out of it.
Hey.
The reply came fast. Sup. Nice pic yourself.
Vinny had uploaded a shot of his abs. Nothing identifiable. Just skin and shadow.
Thanks. You too.
You on here a lot?
First time honestly. Just looking around.
Same. Well. Not first time. But I’m not on here much. Kinda just browsing.
There was a pause. Vinny’s thumb hovered over the keyboard.
Why are you on here then? he typed.
Moving soon. Starting college. Guess I wanted a final hurrah before everything changes. You?
Vinny stared at the words. It was so close to his own situation it felt like a prank. Everyone was moving away for college.
My brother’s leaving for college too. I’m gonna miss him. Guess I’m just trying to distract myself.
That’s sweet. You two close?
Yeah. He’s my best friend.
Cute. So what are you looking for on here?
Vinny swallowed. The question felt heavier than it should.
Not sure. I’m still figuring things out.
That's cool. no pressure. Maybe you’re one of those.
One of what?
The “verse” types.
Vinny frowned. What’s that mean?
Most guys who say they’re verse are just bottoms who haven’t admitted it yet.
A laugh escaped Vinny’s lips. He could almost hear the teasing in the words, the kind of casual shit-talking Marco did all the time.
I’m not even sure I know what I am. How would you know?
Call it intuition. You give off a vibe.
What kind of vibe?
The kind that wants someone to take charge. A submissive.
Vinny’s mouth went dry. The conversation had shifted, the air in the room suddenly thicker.
Maybe, he typed. His fingers felt clumsy.
I’m a strict top. Dominant. Just so you know what you’re getting into.
I figured.
Did you now. What gives?
You’ve got that energy.
You like that?
Vinny’s dick was half-hard, pressing against his jeans. He adjusted himself without thinking.
Yeah. I think I do.
The next message was a photo of the guy’s lower body in a bathroom. Not a dick pic—just a shot of a chest, broad and sculpted, one hand gripping the waistband of low-slung sweats. The kind of body that made Vinny’s brain go quiet. His body looked so hot like Marco’s.
Your turn, JockGuy22 wrote.
Vinny hesitated. Then he lifted his shirt, angled his phone, and snapped a picture. Shadow and muscle and the faint trail of hair below his navel.
Fuck, came the reply. You’re hot.
You too. You're the hottest guy I've seen here.
What are you into?
Vinny bit his lip. The honesty felt dangerous but also liberating, like stepping off a ledge.
I like guys who know what they want. I like being told what to do. I like…
He stopped typing.
Keep going.
I like sucking cock. Only done it once, but I fucking loved it. Can't stop thinking about doing it again.
Good boy.
The two words hit Vinny like a punch to the gut. His cock, which had been stirring, instantly went rock-hard, straining against the denim of his jeans.
The messages got spicier. Dirtier. Photos started to fly back and forth—still no faces, just bodies. The guy sent a shot of his soft dick, thick and uncut, lying against a set of abs that looked like they were carved from stone.
Vinny stared, his mouth suddenly dry. This was insane, but he was completely captivated. He sent one of his own, his lean, toned body on display, his hard cock jutting up, the tip already glistening with a bead of pre-cum.
Fuck. yeah. want to see more
You first
The guy obliged, sending a steady stream of photos. Each one dirtier than the last. Vinny also snapped a quick pic of his plump ass, spreading his cheeks just enough to give a glimpse of his tight hole.
Jesus Fucking Christ. You're making my dick throb, baby. Look what you're doing to me.
A new picture popped up. It was the guy's cock, fully erect this time. It was massive, thick as a beer can, with a fat, mushroom head was already drooling with transparent salty juice. Vinny's own cock twitched in response, a fresh wave of pre-cum soaking through his boxers.
You made me so fucking horny. The guy added.
The messages kept coming, a litany of depraved promises. How he'd bend Vinny over and make him beg for every inch. How he'd stretch Vinny's tight ass until it was gaping, filled with his cum so deep Vinny would feel it for days.
Vinny was literally shaking. He didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. His heart racing like crazy.
You want to meet? JockGuy22 typed. Discreet. Just a raw fuck or you can just suck my cock. Your choice. No strings. I'll breed you and leave.
Vinny’s heart hammered. This was insane. This was exactly what he’d been warned about. Strangers. Apps. Guys beaten on meetup.
I don’t know…
I’m not a serial killer. I promise.
That’s exactly what a serial killer would say.
True. But I’m just a guy who’s horny and moving away and you sound like you need this. C'mon, baby.
Did he? Vinny stared at the ceiling crack again. Marco would be gone soon. The house would be emptier. And Vinny would still be here, still confused, still wondering.
Okay, he typed. Where?
The park by Elm. There’s a dark corner by the old basketball courts. I’ll be in my car. You just hop in. No one will notice.
When?
An hour. Gives you time to get ready.
Vinny’s pulse was a drum roll in his ears.
Okay.
He showered, scrubbing himself more thoroughly than usual, then brushed his teeth twice for no reason. After that, he stood in front of his dresser for nearly five minutes before settling on his nicest underwear, a pair of dark boxers, along with sweatpants and a hoodie.
He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. Pale blue eyes. Messy brown hair. Jaw that was still sharpening into something closer to Marco’s. He looked nervous. He looked eager.
Just once, he told his reflection. Just to know.
The park was only a ten-minute walk from the house, but the warm, sticky night made it feel longer. Cicadas buzzed loudly in the trees, and the streetlights cast orange pools across the sidewalk. The farther he got from the main road, though, the darker it became, especially around the old basketball courts.
Vinny’s phone buzzed. Almost there.
I’m at the bench, he replied.
A few seconds later, another message appeared.
Look for the dark car by the old courts. Just get in like you know me.
Vinny slipped his phone into his pocket and looked around. There—a car. Dark shape, maybe blue, maybe black, impossible to tell in this light.
The walk from the bench to the car couldn't have been more than a few seconds, but it felt like a mile. His heart was pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears.
This was it. He told himself. His hand closed around the cold metal of the door handle and pulled.
The interior light didn’t come on.
Vinny slid into the passenger seat, closed the door, and turned with a greeting already forming on his lips.
“He—”
The word died before it was even finished.
He found himself staring into a face he knew better than his own reflection.
The driver was staring at him with the exact same disbelief.
“Vinny?”
His voice came out barely above a whisper.
Vinny's stomach dropped.
“Marco?”
Neither of them moved.
For a few seconds, they just stared at each other like one of them had to be wrong.
Marco was still wearing the same clothes he'd left the house in earlier, though his hair was more messed up now. His blue eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open.
The dashboard light washed his handsome face in a pale blue glow, making him look strangely unfamiliar despite being the most familiar person in the world.
“Y-you... You were...” Vinny stopped, staring at him as the realization finally sank in. “No... it can't be.”
He swallowed.
“W-what are you doing here, man?”
Marco's chest was rising and falling too fast. His eyes flicked to the phone in his hand, their conversation still glowing on the screen. All that dirty talk. The nudes. It was like fate pulling the most fucked up prank.
"What I'm doing here?" he shot back. "I could ask you the same thing. You were supposed to be home. In bed. You should be—"
Marco's knuckles were white on the steering wheel. The phone slipped, falling between the seats, but the screen was still lit up. Their filthy convo visible. Just get in like you know me.
He stared at it for a second before looking back at Vinny.
“Fuck.”
Vinny couldn't breathe.
"You—you were supposed to be at a party," Vinny said, his own voice sounding weird and shaky.
"I ditched," Marco said, his jaw flexing. "Clearly."
The word just sat there between them, heavy.
Neither of them spoke for a long moment. The cicadas screamed outside. The car felt like a cage.
"We can't do this here," Marco finally said, his voice rough. He started the engine. "Someone might see."
Vinny didn't ask where they were going. He couldn't form words.
Marco slammed the car into reverse, his thick arm bracing on the back of Vinny's seat as he twisted to look out the window. The movement brought his body closer, that familiar cologne flooding Vinny's nostrils, and Vinny's stupid dick twitched in his sweats despite everything.
The car rolled through empty streets. Vinny just stared at Marco's hand on the wheel, the way his forearm flexed when he turned. He'd stared at those arms his whole life. How the fuck did he not recognize them? And this car? He had been riding with Marco his entire high school life. How did he not know?
They drove past the park. Past the quiet residential streets. Past the 7-Eleven where they used to buy slushies when they were kids. Vinny watched the familiar landmarks slide by and felt like he was watching his whole life rearrange becoming a fucked up mess.
Marco pulled into the empty parking lot behind the old community center, the one that had been shut down for renovations since spring. No streetlights. No security cameras. No houses nearby. Just cracked asphalt and a dumpster that stank.
He killed the engine. The silence was fucking deafening.
"What the fuck, Vinny?" Marco turned to him, and his voice wasn't choked anymore. It was sharp, pissed. "What the actual fuck were you thinking? Meeting a stranger from an app? At night? In a dark park?"
"Me?" Vinny's voice cracked. The shock was wearing off, replaced by a hot, defensive anger. "What about you? You’ve ditched your party to meet up with a stranger on the app. You were on there too! You wanted to—"
He couldn't even say it.
"I'm twenty," Marco snapped. "I can take care of myself."
"And I can't?"
"You're my little brother! You just turned eighteen. You don't know what kind of sick fucks are out there. What if it wasn't me? What if it was some creep who wanted to hurt you?"
Vinny just stared at the dashboard, his heart pounding in his throat. He played with the hem of his hoodie.
"And who the fuck was it? The guy you said you sucked off?"
Vinny's whole body went rigid. "No one."
"Bullshit."
“I told you, it's nobody. I made it up, alright?”
Marco clenched his jaw, clearly not believing him.
“Vinny.”
“Drop it.”
“No.”
“Marco—”
“No.” His voice sharpened. “You either tell me who it was, or I'm taking your phone and figuring it out myself.”
“Jesus Fucking Christ.” Vinny let out a nervous laugh. “You hear yourself right now?”
“Do you? You’ll see how crazy I am if you don’t tell me who’s the fucking prick you sucked off.”
Vinny hesitated. The worst part was knowing Marco wasn't bluffing.
“Fine. It was our neighbor. Jeremy. There. Happy?" The name tasted like ash. "That was my first time. That's who I sucked off. Before he moved away."
The air in the car got thick, heavy. Marco's breathing went rough, his hands squeezing the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white.
"Jeremy? Jeremy White? Fuck, Vinny. That guy was a grown-ass man. What were you thinking? You were what? Twelve? Thirteen?" His voice cracked on the last word. "You let some grown man—" He slammed his palm against the dash, and Vinny jumped. "I'm gonna fucking kill him."
"He moved. Years ago. It's over." Vinny's voice was small. "I didn't even know it was wrong then. I just... I thought it felt good. And I've been trying to figure out ever since if that means I'm... you know."
Marco's anger just drained out of him. His shoulders slumped. "V..."
"You asked me why I was on there," Vinny said, his voice barely a whisper. "That's why. I needed to know. For sure. If I actually want guys, or if it was just... him."
The words just hung there in the dark.
Marco dragged his hands over his face. "Fuck. Fuck, I'm so sorry. I didn't know. If I'd known about that guy back then, I would've—"
"You were skinny back then. What were you gonna do, lecture him to death?"
A weak laugh escaped Marco. "Probably. I was a nerdy little shit."
"And now you're built like a brick shithouse and cruising apps for hookups behind everyone's back."
Marco's jaw tightened.
"That's different."
"Is it?" Vinny turned to face him fully. "You're the one who wanted to meet up. You're the one who said cum and go. You're the one who sent me—" He stopped, heat flooding his cheeks. "You sent me pictures. You called me hot. You didn't know it was me, but you still—"
"Neither did you!" Marco's voice cracked. "You sent me your ass pic. You told me you wanted someone to take charge. You said you liked being told what to do. You were practically begging for it, Vinny. Begging me to fuck you."
Vinny looked away, his cheeks burning. "I wasn't begging."
"You were fucking close."
He looked back at him. They just glared at each other in the dark, both of them breathing hard. The center console between them felt a mile wide.
Then Marco sagged. "I can't believe this is happening."
"Neither can I."
More silence. Marco's fingers tapped against the steering wheel—a nervous habit he'd had since they were kids.
"What were you gonna do?" Vinny asked quietly. "If I'd been a stranger. If you'd actually gone through with it."
Marco's throat bobbed.
"Yeah. Probably.”
Vinny's heart did a painful little flip.
"How long have you been doing this?"
Marco's jaw clenched. "Since I got held back. I had... time. Too much fucking time on my hands. Started thinking about shit I shouldn't."
Vinny bit the inside of his cheek. "So you fuck guys because you're bored?"
Marco gritted his teeth. "Is that what you really think?"
Vinny just shrugged, feeling awkward and exposed.
Silence.
"Do Mom and Dad know?" It was a dumb question, but he had to say something to fill the silence.
"The fuck? What kind of question is that? Of course not." Marco let out a bitter laugh. "Dad would lose his mind. Mom would cry. The football team would..." He shook his head. "It's easier to just not. To be what everyone expects."
"But you were gonna do it anyway. Tonight."
"Yeah."
"With a stranger."
"Yeah."
"That's stupid."
"I know."
"You could've gotten murdered."
He snorted. "I know."
"You yelled at me for it, but you were doing the exact same thing."
"I know, Vinny." Marco's voice was strained. "I'm a fucking hypocrite, okay? Is that what you want to hear?"
Vinny didn't say anything back. His brain was running, putting all the pieces together. Marco was into guys. Marco wanted to fuck around. Marco had been drawn to him—to his pics, to his words—without even knowing it was him.
His eyes slid down to Marco's lap. To that thick bulge that had made his mouth water when he saw it on his phone.
"Vinny." Marco's voice was a warning.
"Maybe this doesn't have to be a disaster." Vinny's voice came out steadier than he felt. "Maybe this is... I don't know. An opportunity."
"What are you talking about?"
"You want to fuck a guy. I want to try it with a guy." Vinny's hands were shaking. "We're both here. We both want it. Nobody has to know."
Marco eyes went wide. "What? Are you insane? You're my little brother."
"I know."
"We can't. That's... we just can't."
"Why not?" Vinny turned in his seat, heart hammering. "You said you wanted to. You said I made you horny. You said you’ll fuck me raw. I do want that. And you... you clearly want something too, or you wouldn't have been on that app."
"Vinny." Marco's voice was hoarse. "We should go home. Forget this happened. This isn’t a conversation we should be having. Just—"
"I don't want to forget," Vinny said, reaching out. His trembling fingers brushed against Marco's thigh. The muscle under the denim was hard as steel, and it burned with heat. "I want to know. For sure. I've been confused for years, and here you are. Someone I trust. Someone who'd never hurt me."
"I could hurt you. This whole thing could hurt you. It’s messed up. It could ruin everything. Ruin us."
"Or it could be exactly what we both need."
Marco's hand shot out and closed over Vinny's wrist. He wasn't pushing him away. Just holding him there, stopping him. "You have no idea what you're asking for. We need to stop this."
"I know exactly what I'm asking for," Vinny said, lifting his eyes to meet his brother's in the dark.
"I want to suck your cock, Marco. To be honest, I've wanted to for a very long time now, and I've been too chickenshit to do it with anyone else. But I'm not scared of you. I fantasized about you."
"Fuck." The word was a ragged whisper. “That’s not…that’s a foul, V.”
"Please." Vinny's fingers curled around the bulge in Marco's jeans. It twitched under his touch, already half-hard. "If we just go home, I'll be in my phone again. On the app. Looking for other dudes."
Marco's eyes snapped at Vinny. "Like fuck you will."
Vinny rubbed the thick meat under the denim. "Let me. Just this once. I'll never meet other guys. Then we never talk about it again."
Marco's grip on his wrist loosened. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide. "Vinny..."
"I'll be good." Vinny leaned closer, his breath ghosting across his brother's jaw. "I promise I'll be so good for you. I’ll suck your cock better than anyone. Just show me how."
A long, shuddering breath escaped Marco's lips. He stared at the cracked dashboard, then up at the roof of the car, like he was looking for an answer he knew he wouldn't find.
"Oh, God," he breathed, rubbing his face with both hands.
"This can’t be happening. This is messed up." He squeezed his eyes shut, his whole face a mask of conflict. Then, his eyes snapped open, and they were hard, decisive.
He looked at his little brother.
Marco's hand gripped Vinny’s jaw. Not hard enough to hurt. Hard enough to hold him in place. Marco's thumb pressed against the corner of his mouth, and Vinny's lips parted on instinct.
"You really want this?" Marco's voice had dropped into something lower. Something that matched the profile he'd been chatting with. "You want your brother's cock in your mouth?"
Vinny's breath stuttered. His cock was straining against his sweatpants, a damp spot already forming where the head pressed against cotton. "Yeah."
"Say it."
"I want your cock in my mouth, Marco."
Marco's grip tightened fractionally. "You ever done this before? Besides that piece of shit neighbor?"
Vinny shook his head as much as Marco's hold would allow. "Just him. Just once."
"Then you don't know how to do it right."
"So teach me."
Marco clenched his jaw. His pupils were blown wide, nearly swallowing the blue of his irises. His other hand came up, cupping the back of Vinny's head, fingers threading through dark hair.
"If we do this," Marco said, low and rough, "it's just this once. You understand? Once. We don't talk about it. We don't think about it. It never happened."
Vinny nodded. His mouth was dry. His heart was going to explode.
"And you do what I tell you. Exactly what I tell you. No arguing. No hesitating. If I say stop, we stop. If you want to stop, you say—"
"Stop. I know how safe words work, Marco."
Marco's lips twitched, a ghost of a smile that was gone as soon as it appeared. "Smartass." His thumb traced Vinny's lower lip, pulling it down just enough. "Show me your tongue."
Vinny did, letting it rest on his bottom lip.
A low sound rumbled in Marco's chest, something between a groan and a curse. He slid his thumb into Vinny's mouth, pressing down on his tongue, and his eyes went black as he watched Vinny's lips close around it, sucking gently. "Fuck. You have no idea how long I've—" He cut himself off, his jaw clenching tight.
"How long you've what?"
"Shut up," Marco rasped, but his voice was shaky. "Just... shut up. Get in the backseat."
The backseat was cramped. Marco's car wasn't built for this—wasn't built for two grown guys, one of them built like a tank, trying to maneuver in the dark. But Marco made it work. He sat in the middle, legs spread, and pulled Vinny down onto the floor between his knees.
Vinny swallowed hard. He couldn't believe this. This only ever happened in his fucked up fantasy. He was on his knees. Between his brother's thighs. Looking at him.
"Go on," Marco said, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. "Unbuckle me."
Vinny's fingers shook as he fumbled with Marco's belt. The expensive leather one he'd bought him for Christmas. The buckle clinked softly in the silence. The button on his jeans popped. The zipper hissed down, tooth by tooth.
Marco's hips rose slightly from the seat. Vinny tugged the denim down, exposing the black boxer briefs straining against a massive, hard outline. A dark, wet spot had already formed where the head was leaking against the fabric.
Vinny swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry.
"Go slow," Marco ordered, his own breathing betraying him. "Pull them down. I want to see your face when you see it."
Vinny hooked his fingers into the waistband, slowly peeling the boxers down. Marco's cock sprang free, heavy and hard, curving upward toward his abs.
Vinny's eyes went wide.
It was bigger than he'd imagined, bigger than Jeremy's. Maybe nine..ten inches, thick as a wrist, with a fat, flushed head. A thick vein throbbed along the underside. A perfect bead of precum glistened at the tip.
It was right there. Inches from his face. His brother's fucking cock. His brain screamed this was wrong, but his dick was rock hard, throbbing in his sweats.
"Holy shit," Vinny breathed, the words escaping before he could stop them.
Marco's abs clenched. "Like what you see?"
"Fuck yeah," Vinny reached out, his fingers barely wrapping around the thick base. The skin was hot, like steel wrapped in velvet. It twitched in his grip, a living, real thing. "It's... fuck, Marco. It's so big. I've never seen cock this big."
"Don't stroke my ego."
"I'm not," Vinny leaned closer, his breath ghosting over the wet tip. "I'm just telling the truth."
Then the scent hit him. It wasn't just clean skin. It was deeper. Muskier. The raw, masculine smell of Marco's arousal, of sweat and want. It was intoxicating, going straight to Vinny's head, making his mouth water and his dick even harder.
"Fuck, it smells good," he murmured, almost to himself. He pressed his nose against the thick vein on the underside, inhaling deeply, filling his lungs with his brother's scent.
"Didn't know cock could smell this good. Making my fucking mouth water."
Another drop of precum welled up, glistening in the dim light. Marco cursed, his hips jerking.
"Damn, Vinny. You got a filthy mouth. Keep talking like that and I'll be painting your face with my load in no time."
Vinny just hummed, a low, pleased sound. He stuck out his tongue, flat and wide, slowly licking the bead of precum from the slit. The taste was salty, slightly bitter, and fucking perfect.
Vinny swirled his tongue around the hot, spongy head, lapping up every drop.
"Look at all this precum," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Tastes even better than I imagined."
Vinny dove back in. The salty, warm taste exploded across his tongue again. He sealed his lips to the tip, breathing through his nose, not moving, just letting his mouth learn the shape of his brother's cockhead. When his tongue flicked against the slit, Marco's whole body jerked.
"Fuck." Marco's hand found the back of Vinny's head, fingers tangling in his hair. Not pushing. Just... there. A heavy, grounding weight. "Just like that. Fuck, just like that."
Vinny pulled back, a thick string of spit and precum connecting his lower lip to Marco's glans. He looked up. Marco was staring down at him, eyes dark and wild, chest heaving. Even in the dimness, Vinny could see the flush creeping up his brother's neck.
"Like this?" Vinny asked, and licked again. Slower this time. From the base of the shaft all the way up to the ridge, tracing one of the thick veins with the flat of his tongue.
Marco's hips bucked off the seat. "Yeah—fuck, yeah. Exactly like that. You sure you've only done this once? Your mouth is a fucking natural, V."
"Promise," Vinny whispered, nuzzling against the side of Marco's cock, rubbing his cheek along the hot, heavy length of it. The skin was so soft, so warm, and underneath it was this unyielding hardness, this solid fucking weight that made Vinny's own dick ache and leak in his sweats.
"But I've thought about it. A lot."
"Yeah?" Marco's voice was a raw, ragged thing. "Thought about what?"
"Your cock," Vinny breathed, pressing a wet kiss to the base, right where his shaft met the trimmed blond hair. "Sucking it. Tasting it. Choking on it." He kissed higher. "Having it—" Higher. "—fuck my mouth." Higher. "—until I can't taste anything else."
He took the head between his lips again, and this time he didn't stop. He pushed down, letting Marco's thick cock slide over his tongue, letting the weight of it press against the roof of his mouth. The foreskin shifted under his lips, the fat head popping past that spot in the back of his throat that made him want to gag.
Vinny's throat convulsed. He pulled back, coughing, a thick string of drool dripping down his chin.
"Easy there," Marco grunted, tightening his grip in Vinny's hair. "Don't try to swallow it whole first time, greedy boy. And watch the teeth. Use your hand on what you can't take. Get the rhythm first."
"Okay," Vinny gasped, wiping his mouth. "Yeah. Show me how."
"Already am," Marco growled, though his thumb was stroking Vinny's neck - gentle contrast to the nasty shit they were doing. "Wrap your hand around the base. Tight. Yeah, just like that. Now mouth on the top half, and your hand follows your mouth. Up and down. Same fucking motion."
Vinny wrapped his lips around the head while his hand pumped the shaft, matching the rhythm. Awkward at first, but Marco just kept murmuring filth.
"That's it. Slower. Feel it. You're rushing 'cause you're hungry - relax. It's just my cock. Your big brother's dick. Nothing to be scared of."
Vinny made a sound that was half-laugh, half-moan. The vibration made Marco's hips jerk again.
"Oh, you liked that," Vinny grinned, pulling off just enough to talk. "You like me moaning on your dick, big bro?"
"Shut up and suck."
"Make me."
Marco yanked Vinny's head back, face twisted with hunger and anger.
"Don't fucking tease me," Marco's voice dropped low. "You do what I say. You're on your knees. You begged for this cock. You don't get to be a smartass right now. You get to be good. You understand?"
Vinny almost let out a moan. "Yeah."
"Yeah, what?"
"Yeah, I understand."
"Good boy." Marco's grip loosened, stroking Vinny's hair almost tenderly. "Try again. When it hits your throat, relax. Breathe through your nose. Your throat opens when you're not fighting it."
Vinny went down again, Marco's cock filling his mouth. This time when the head bumped his soft palate, he breathed, relaxed, let his throat open.
Another inch slid inside.
"Fuuuck," Marco groaned, his head falling back against the seat. His thighs were trembling under Vinny's palms. "See. Just like that. Just like fucking that. You're taking it so good, baby bro. So fucking good."
The praise hit Vinny deep. He pushed further, wanting more, wanting to make Marco lose control completely. Pure instinct to pleasure his big brother.
He pulled back slow. Drool ran down his chin, slicking his hand on Marco's meaty shaft. The sounds were obscene - wet, rhythmic, punctuated by Marco's broken groans.
"Look at you," Marco's voice was wrecked, strained. "On your fucking knees for your big brother. Mouth full of my cock. You know how many guys I've fucked? And none of them—nobody—looks as fucking good as you do right now. My filthy little brother."
Vinny moaned desperate around the thick flesh filling his throat. The vibration made Marco's whole body lock up, hands flying to Vinny's hair, gripping hard.
"Say my fucking name," Marco growled, his voice a raw, dominant command. "Let me hear you say it with my dick stretching your lips."
"Mmm-arco." Came out garbled, wet, muffled.
"Again. Louder. Fucking worship my name with my cock in your throat."
Vinny ripped off with a filthy pop. Saliva webbed from his swollen lips to Marco's angry red head. "Marco! Fuck, Marco, your cock's so big. It's ruining my throat. Can barely breathe and I fucking love it."
"You'll take it," Marco snarled, wiping spit from Vinny's chin and forcing it back in his mouth. "Take every fucking inch till you taste my balls. Show me. Show your big brother what a hungry cocksucker you've become."
Vinny slammed back down, no hesitation. He didn't just take it, he worshipped it, forcing the fat head past his gag reflex, his eyes rolling back as tears streamed down his face. He didn't stop until his nose was pressed into Marco's sweat-damp pubes, his entire throat convulsing around the thick meat that owned it.
"Holy fucking shit, yes! That's it, that's it," Marco hissed, his hips bucking involuntarily. "Fucking choke on it, Vinny. Look at you, deep-throating me like a fucking pro.”
Vinny's moan was a deep, guttural vibration that made Marco's abs clench.
"Fuck, just like that. Keep making those sounds and I'll paint your tonsils white."
Vinny looked up through a haze of tears, his face a mess, his jaw screaming, but his eyes were locked on Marco's.
"Christ, look at you. My personal whore. If I'd known you were this desperate for my cock, I would've fucked your mouth years ago."
Marco's grip tightened like a vise.
"Play with my balls," Marco ordered.
Vinny's hand shot up, cradling the heavy sac, rolling the dense testicles in his palm. So full of his big brother's potent swimmers.
"Fuck, yeah. Squeeze 'em. Gently. Just like that. You're a fucking natural at this. Too good. Makes me think you've been practicing on every dick at school."
Vinny could only whine, muffled by the cock fucking his face.
Marco stared down, his chest heaving, sweat dripping from his brow onto Vinny's face. Vinny's throat burned, vision blurring, but all he could see was his brother - strong, handsome, dominant - using him completely.
"I won’t last, V," Marco panted, his rhythm starting to falter. "Fuck. You have no fucking clue. You look like a goddamn angel choking on my cock. Like this is the only thing you were ever meant to do. Like my cum is the fucking holy water you've been praying for."
Vinny couldn't speak. Couldn't think. His world had shrunk to the car, the seat, the pain in his jaw, the fire in his gut, and the thick, punishing presence of his brother's juicy meat.
Marco's hands moved from his hair to his jaw, holding his head steady, thumbs pressing into his cheeks.
"Brace yourself," he said, and his voice had gone from ragged to commanding. "Gonna fuck your throat now. You good?"
Vinny made a sound. A garbled, desperate sound that was probably meant to be yes but came out as nothing but vibration around Marco's cock.
"Good fucking boy."
Marco's hips became a piston. Hard, deep, brutal thrusts that punched the air from Vinny's lungs. The head of his cock slammed into Vinny's throat again and again, and Marco was fucking his face in earnest, a wet, savage rhythm of flesh hitting flesh, of muffled gags and guttural groans filling the steamy car.
"Fuck! FUCK! Such a tight fucking throat pussy!"
Vinny's jaw burned. Drool and precum poured down his neck. His own dick was so hard it hurt, trapped in his sweats, leaking constant salty precum.
"Take it! Take every fucking inch!" Marco grunted, his thrusts becoming erratic, wild. "Gonna fucking breed your throat, V. You want that? You want my fucking babies shooting down your gullet? Want to taste your big brother's cum flooding your stomach?"
Vinny tried to nod, to beg, but Marco was using him too hard. He just took it, a willing, eager hole for his brother's pleasure.
"Fuck, I'm gonna blow!"
He felt Marco's cock swell impossibly, the veins like steel cables against his tongue. The head flared, and Vinny knew, he knew what was coming, and he dug his fingers into Marco's hips and pulled him closer.
"FUCK! I'M CUMMING! FUCKING SWALLOW IT, VINNY! SWALLOW YOUR BIG BROTHER'S FUCKING CUM!"
Marco convulsed, thighs clamping around Vinny's head. First blast was firehose, thick and scalding, salty-bitter hitting Vinny's throat making him choke. It was too much, too fast, flooding his mouth, spilling from his lips where Marco's girth couldn't contain it. It ran down his chin in thick, white rivers.
"FUCK! FUCK! DON'T YOU FUCKING SPILL A DROP!" Marco held him in place, feeding him, cock pulsing, spurting rope after rope. "TAKE IT ALL! DRINK MY FUCKING CUM! MMMM FUCKKKK!"
Vinny swallowed. Gagged. Swallowed again.
The taste was overwhelming. Nothing like he'd imagined. Stronger. Muskier. Like Marco smelled, like Marco tasted, like his brother distilled into something liquid and vital and filthy.
It lasted almost half a minute before Marco’s orgasm subsided.
Vinny kept swallowing even after Marco stopped convulsing. Kept his lips sealed around that still hard cock, tongue lapping at the slit, sucking gently, cleaning every drop, milking his brother for every last bit of seed.
Marco slumped back against the seat, his chest heaving, his body slick with sweat. He looked down at Vinny, who was still feasting on his cock like he'd been starving for it. Marco's hand came down to rest on Vinny's head, his fingers tangling in his sweaty hair.
"Holy fuck, V. You still trying to get your fill?" Marco breathed, his voice hoarse. "Feels like you're sucking my fucking soul through my dick, baby bro."
Vinny pulled off slowly. The cock slipped from his lips with a final obscene slurp. His face was wrecked—tears and spit and cum, eyes red-rimmed but bright, lips swollen and shiny. He stuck out his tongue.
Some pearly-white semen pooled in the center.
Marco's dick actually twitched, stirring against his thigh, still rock-hard and ready. Marco groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes.
"Jesus fucking Christ, Vinny. You look like a goddamn porn star."
Vinny closed his mouth as he swallowed the last of his brother's load. He licked his swollen lips, chasing the taste. "Was it good?"
"Good?" Marco dropped his arm, staring at him like he'd grown a second head. "Are you fucking serious?"
"Was it good, Marco?"
Marco leaned forward, his hand shooting out to grip Vinny's jaw. His thumb stroking over his cheekbone. "That wasn't just good. That was the best fucking blowjob I've ever had in my life. We're talking all-time fucking champion. You just ruined my dick for every other mouth on the planet. You happy now, you little cum-slut?"
Vinny's lips stretched into a filthy, satisfied grin. "Hell yeah."
"What about you?" Marco's eyes narrowed, zeroing in on Vinny's mouth. "You like the taste? Did you enjoy swallowing your big brother's hot fucking load?"
A deep blush spread across Vinny's face, but he held Marco's gaze. "Yeah. I can't get enough of it, Marco."
Marco's grin turned predatory. His eyes dropped to the dark, soaking wet stain that had spread across the entire front of Vinny's sweatpants. "You fucking came. Hands-free. Just from choking on my cock. And you say you're confused about what you are? You're a goddamn cock-whore, baby bro."
Vinny's blush darkened even more. He looked down at the mess he'd made, then back up at Marco and nodded. "When you grabbed my head and held me down. That was it. I was gone."
"Jesus Christ," Marco breathed, a dark laugh rumbling in his chest. "You're such a desperate little slut. Busting a nut just from sucking your brother's dick. You love it that much?"
Vinny looked down at himself, at the evidence of his complete loss of control, then met Marco's eyes again. "I loved it, Marco. I want more."
Marco blinked, his brain trying to catch up. "Yeah. Okay. Fuck. You can suck me again. Give me five minutes and I'll be ready to—"
"No." Vinny shook his head, his voice suddenly firm, cutting through the post-orgasm haze. "Not that."
Marco went completely still. The air in the car crackled.
Vinny swallowed hard, rubbing his big brother’s thick, muscular thighs. "Marco, I... I want you to fuck me."
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