"Thanks for that," Zac said, his voice a low murmur that seemed to resonate through the kitchen. "Best breakfast I've had in a while." He tugged his shorts back up, the fabric sliding over his semi-hard cock with a teasing slowness that made me want to drop to my knees again. His smirk was back in full force, the kind that said he knew exactly what he'd just done to me.
But as quickly as it had begun, the moment was over. He turned away from me, his muscled back flexing as he headed for the stairs. "I'm gonna go hit the shower," he called over his shoulder.
I nodded, watching him ascend the stairs with a sense of satisfaction that was almost tangible. He might left whenever he had his fun, but I really didn't mind. Our relationship was based on this unspoken agreement, and frankly, I enjoyed the simplicity of it. No obligations, no embarrassment, just pure, unfiltered desire and then back to normal.
I left the kitchen shortly after Zac, spotless of course, my senses still reeling from the explosive encounter. As I headed upstairs myslelf, I bumped into Henry, his beefy body dressed in a pair of tight-fitting jeans and a white shirt that did nothing to hide the outline of his impressive muscles.
I wasn't exactly confused, but I was surprised to see him down here. Dad and he had only been gone for an hour.
"Hold on big boy, " I said, placing a hand on Henry's massive bicep to stop him. "Where are you off to? I thought you and Dad had big plans up in the attic?"
Henry looked down at me, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Yeah, but you know, I had to come down for a bit. Dad's got the whole attic situation under control," he said, flexing his bicep under my touch. The fabric of his shirt strained against the muscle, and I couldnt help but get turned on again.
Pushing the feeling aside, about to ask where he was heading to exactly, but he beat me in it.
"You know, I actually had plans with Becky, and when I told dad that my girlfried was waiting, he said I should go ahead," Henry said, leavig me confused for a moment. But I didn't take long to realize that Becky was the gym bunny he'd been seeing lately. What really threw me off balance was the "girlfriend" part. I'd known he was seeing her, but the word stung more than I'd care to admit.
"Girlfriend?" I echoed, trying to keep the surprise out of my voice. "I didn't know it was that serious."
Henry shrugged his massive shoulders, his usual stupid grin spreading across his face, making him look... well, stupid. "Yeah, I guess so," he said, his voice a gruff rumble. "Becky asked what we were, and I just said 'together,' and she seemed happy with that. So, it's a thing now."
My heart sank a little. It was strange, feeling a twinge of jealousy for a guy who had the IQ of a bag of hammers and the emotional range of a teaspoon. But I couldn't help it.
"Oh, that's great, man," I said, forcing a smile onto my face and giving his shoulder a congratulatory punch. It felt strange, acting like one of the bros when I was anything but.
"Thanks, bro," Henry said, grinning like a kid who'd just been handed a new toy. He didn't seem to notice the tension in my voice or the way my hand hovered awkwardly before making contact with his rock-hard shoulder.
"Can't wait to bring her home to meet everyone, especially you," Henry said, his grin growing wider.
The thought of Becky, with her perky tits and vacant expression, invading my personal space, the house filled with her sugary perfume, made me want to gag. But instead, I swallowed down my revulsion and nodded, keeping my expression as neutral as possible. "Yeah, sure. Whatever makes you happy," I said, my voice tight.
"Thanks, little bro," Henry said, ruffling my hair as he moved past me. The gesture was affectionate but it felt patronizing, a reminder that despite everything we'd shared, he saw me as nothing more than a younger sibling again... And it was my fault.
I watched as he grabbed his keys and headed out the door, his heavy steps echoing through the hallway. "See ya!" he called out, his voice full of excitement. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
"Have fun," I called out after Henry, trying to keep my voice light and nonchalant as he disappeared through the door. With a sigh, I climbed the stairs to my room, the soles of my socks whispering against the polished wood. The moment I was inside, I slammed the door with more force than necessary, the sound echoing through the hallway. It was a childish move, but it helped to release some of the tension that had coiled in my chest like a snake.
Flopping onto the bed, I felt the coolness of the fabric against my skin, a stark contrast to the heat still lingering from my encounter with Zac. I stared out of the window, watching the lazy dance of the leaves on the trees, trying to push Henry and his newfound relationship out of my thoughts. But it was like trying to swat a fly in a room filled with honey—his image kept buzzing back, no matter how much I waved him away. The memory of his muscles rippling under my touch as, the way his eyes had searched mine when he’d come downstairs, the smug satisfaction that had painted his face when he talked about Becky... it was all too much. And with my body aching for release, it was all I could do not to let out a frustrated groan.
The fun with Zac had been exhilarating, but the past few times had left me feeling a bit... empty. Don't get me wrong, he knew how to handle his business, but i really didn't get to cum. And now, as I laid on my bed, the frustration of my unfulfilled desires was starting to get to me. My thoughts kept drifting back to Henry, and how his muscular frame had looked as he'd moved past me. The memory of his cock, massive and heavy, was like a siren's call, echoing through my mind. I couldn't get it out of my head, especially knowing Becky was probably getting a taste of that right now.
The more I thought about it, the more I couldn't help but feel a bit smug. Henry really shouldn't have been so casual about telling me about her struggle to accomodate him. It wasn't that I wanted Becky to fail, but the idea that she might not be able to handle what I could so easily was... intriguing. My mind began to wander, picturing her trying to take him in, her face scrunched up in a mix of pleasure and pain. I felt a twinge of something that wasn't quite pity, but definitely wasn't jealousy either. It was more like... amusement.
The whole thought was a huge turn on for me, and suddenly my need for relief was more than just a niggling discomfort—it was a raging inferno in my groin. I couldn't shake the mental image of Becky, with her delicate hands and mouth, trying to handle Henry's thick cock. I bit my lip, basking in the thought of knowing that she had trouble with it, while I had taken him without breaking a sweat—well, not to much of one... Anyway, the feeling grew stronger, and before I knew it, my hand was sliding under the waistband of my pants, cupping my own hardening cock. It was a poor substitute, and after a few seconds I knew I needed more.
One look to my side was enough to find a solution to my current predicament. My nightstand, a simple piece of furniture that held a treasure trove of secrets, was within arm's reach. It was as if it had read my mind, the top drawer slightly ajar, beckoning to me. I didn't bother with subtlety; I reached over, my arm barely long enough to bridge the gap, and pulled out my favorite dildo.
I stared at it for a moment, the material cool to the touch but already warming under my feverish gaze. Next to it, a small bottle of lube shimmered in the morning light, whispering sweet promises of slippery release. My breath hitched in my chest, and I could feel my heart pounding as I squeezed out a generous amount into my palm.
I was definetly desperate for release. My hand hovered over the drawer of my nightstand, the wood cool and smooth under my fingertips. I took a deep breath, my chest rising and falling with the anticipation of what lay inside. The drawer creaked open, and there it was, my secret weapon, the lifelike silicone dildo that had seen more action than anyone else in the house. It lay there, nestled among the rumpled tissues and forgotten change, gleaming like a trophy. It was longer and thicker than any cock I'd ever seen in real life, and it had a curve that hit all the right spots. Next to it was the small, unassuming bottle of lube, a silent accomplice in my masturbatory escapades.
Without wasting another second, I tugged at the waistband of my shorts, pulling them down along with my underwear. They fell to the floor in a soft whisper of fabric, leaving my lower half bare and exposed to the cool air of the room. My cock bobbed up eagerly, already hard from the mental gymnastics of the last few minutes. I picked up the dildo and held it in both hands, feeling its weight and the slight give of the material. I spread my legs, my heart racing at the thought of what was to come. I was so turned on, so ready.
The first few inches of the silicone intruder were rough, the coldness of the lube meeting my unprepared flesh with a sting that sent shivers down my spine. I took a deep breath and pushed harder, the tip popping past my tight ring with a sensation that was part pain, part pleasure. My eyes watered and I bit my lip to keep from crying out. But I wanted this to be inside fast so that I could get to the good part. I didn't have time to prep properly, not with Henry's voice still echoing in my head, not with the thought of Becky's hands on him like it was some sort of challenge to conquer.
Once the head was in, the rest followed with surprising ease. I couldn't help but moan as I felt myself stretch around the shaft, my body reluctantly giving way to the invasion. The room was still, the only sound the soft squelch of the dildo as it sank deeper and deeper into me. I could feel my body slowly stretching, opening up like a forbidden flower to the phallus that I so craved.
With the dildo fully sheathed, I paused briefly, my legs spread wide. I took a moment to appreciate the feeling of being filled, the pressure building within me like a storm waiting to be unleashed. Then, I began to ride it, my hips moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm that had me grinding down on the silicone shaft. The bed protested softly with each thrust, the headboard thumping against the wall in a steady, muffled beat that matched my own pulse.
As I picked up the pace, my thoughts drifted back to Henry's body, the way his muscles had moved under my hands, the way his cock had felt in my mouth and between my legs. I could almost feel his weight pressing me down into the mattress, the warmth of his skin against mine. I gripped the sheets in my fists, my knuckles turning white with the effort of holding onto the fantasy.
My hips rocked faster, my breath coming in short gasps. Each thrust of the dildo sent waves of pleasure through me, but it wasn't enough. I needed more, something to push me over the edge. With one hand, I reached down to play with my balls, rolling them gently in my palm, feeling them tighten in anticipation. With the other, I pinched my nipples, twisting them just enough to send a jolt of pain that melded with the pleasure from below.
In my mind's eye, Henry lay there, enjoying the view of his little brother's tight body moving on top of him. His innocent puppy eyes watching me, a look of pure bliss etched into the contours of his handsome face. His abs flexed and contracted as he watched me bounce up and down on his cock, riding him like a cowboy on a bucking bronco.
I imagined him lying there, his massive body sprawled out on my bed, one arm casually thrown behind his head, the bicep bulging and flexing next to his ear, a borad smile on his face, as he enjoyed the view of me straddling him. His pecs were like two boulders, each one casting a shadow on his broad chest. The clean shaven skin almost urging me to let my hands roam over them, to feel the power beneath. His abs, just inches lower, were a series of hills and valleys, each ridge a testament to hours spent in the gym, sweating and grunting under heavy weights.
In my fantasy, Henry's eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open as he took in deep, slow breaths. His chest rose and fell with each intake of air, the muscles there moving like a living sculpture. His abs tightened with each of my movements, each thrust down onto his imaginary cock. The thought of him watching me, his eyes hooded with lust, his face contorted in pleasure was a powerful aphrodisiac and made me rock up and down on the dildo with more fervor.
I pictured Henry's biceps flexing, his forearms bulging as he gripped the edge of the bed, holding on for dear life as I worked him over. His pecs looked like they'd been carved out of marble, the perfect blend of power and grace. The smell of his sweat, a heady mix of musk and testosterone, filled my nostrils. His triceps, those meaty cables of muscle that I knew would be thrumming with power as he held himself up to watch me, were a sight to behold. I could almost feel the heat of his body as I slammed down onto the dildo, imagining it was him filling me up instead.
My moans became more, my body moving faster as the climax approached. My eyes squeezed shut, my teeth digging into my bottom lip to stop me from getting too loud. The pleasure was building like a crescendo and then, with one final, desperate thrust, I went over the edge. A long, muffled gasp escaped my lips as I came, the sensation ripping through me like lightning. My body arched off the bed, my back bowing in a silent scream of ecstasy befor i let my self fall back onto the mattress with a sigh of relief.
The dildo slipped out of me with a wet sound, and I lay there, panting, the aftershocks of my orgasm still rippling through my body. I felt... satisfied, but there was an emptiness that no amount of masturbation could fill. It was the same emptiness that had been there every time I'd played with myself since Henry and I had stopped fooling around. The fantasy was good, but it wasn't the same as having the real thing.
I opened my eyes and looked down at the mess I'd made. A pool of cum stained the bed, my body's betrayal on full display. With a sigh, I rolled over and grabbed the lube and dildo, standing up unsteadily. My legs felt like jelly, my muscles still quivering from the intense climax. The sight of the mess on the sheets made me cringe a little—I guess it was time for a change.
But before I could do that, I needed to clean up. I stumbled into the en suite, and turned the tap, the sound of running water filling the small space, and began with cleaning the toy and then my lower body. The cold water was a shock to the system, but it helped to bring me back down to reality. I washed off the evidence of my desperation, the sticky mess that was a testament to how much I craved my brother's touch. The dildo was placed back in its drawer with a gentle click, the lube returned to its rightful place next to it.
Next to both was my butt plug. Small and black, with a little jewel on the end that glinted in the light. It was a cute little thing, but oh so effective. I hadn't used it in a while, but the thought of wearing it now, back in my mind knowing that Zac and I are practically doing it everyday, it was like a secret weapon waiting to be unleashed. Maybe I should wear it, surprise Zac with it the next time we had fun. It might just be the thing to push him over the edge, to make him want to fuck me properly and get me off.
I took the plug out of its velvet pouch and lubed it up before slowly inserting it into my ass. It was cold at first, making me shiver, but as the silicone warmed to my body temperature, the sensation became a familiar one. With a sigh, I took a few unsteady steps, getting used to the newfound fullness inside of me. It was a sensation I had become quite accustomed to over the past few months, a little secret I liked to indulge in when I was feeling particularly daring.
Once dressed, I headed downstairs to grab a glass of water. The plug remained snugly in place, a silent reminder of the desires that lay just beneath the surface of my daily routines. In the kitchen, the sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the gleaming countertops and the stainless steel appliances. The house was quiet, with only the faint sounds of the refrigerator humming and the occasional distant noise of a car passing by outside.
As I took a sip of my water, the front door creaked open, and in strode Zac, his muscular frame filling the doorway. He greeted me with his usual "Hey, squirt," and I couldn't help but smirk at the nickname. It was as if our earlier tryst had never happened, our secret bubble unpopped in the light of day.
"What's up?" I asked casually, as Zac strutted into the kitchen, his muscles rippling with every step.
"Not much," he said, his tone a mix of boredom and irritation. "Dad and Henry still working up there?" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, indicating the attic where I knew our father was probably sweating bullets trying to organize whatever mess they had going on up there.
I shook my head. "Nah, Henry went out. Something about a date." I said, the word date sticking in my throat like a bitter pill.
Zac's eyebrows shot up when I mentioned Henry's date. "Really?" He leaned against the counter, his biceps flexing as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. "He bail on Dad? What a douche."
I couldn't help but smile at the thought of Henry being called a douche, especially by Zac. "Didn't you do exactly the same thing earlier?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
Zac shrugged. "Yeah, but that's different," he said, his grin already indicating that he knew how ridiculous he sounded. "When I did it, I did it because I really didn't want to help. Henry just leaves Dad hanging to go play with his new toy."
I had to grin aswell, knowing Dad would never make me do something i didn't want to, not even help him in the attic. "Looks like you're stuck with all the hard work now," I said, trying to keep the smugness out of my voice but failinging miserably.
Zac rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he said, pushing off from the counter. "Maybe I get past him without him noticing me." He winked and started to walk past me towards the stairs.
But as he reached the top of the stairs, our father's booming voice echoed through the house. "Zac! Great that you're back! You can come give me a hand up here. Your brother left me with half the work!"
It was with a sense of glee that I plopped down on the couch, the plush cushions enveloping my body as I turned on the TV. The sound of Zac's footsteps on the stairs was a sweet symphony to my ears, the knowledge that he'd been roped into the attic job that neither of us wanted playing out like a well-crafted plot twist. I couldn't help but smirk when I heard him tell dad that he was just going to quickly change his clothes.
I listened with a wicked sense of satisfaction as Zac's footsteps grew fainter, the grumbling of his voice blending with the thuds and scrapes from the attic above. It was like music to my ears—the sweet symphony of them toiling away while I remained blissfully unbothered. With the TV remote in hand, I settled into the embrace of the couch, the plush cushions molding around me as I flipped through the channels.
The sun had reached its zenith by the time Zac and Dad's industrious noises began to taper off. The occasional grunt, the scraping of heavy furniture against the floorboards, and the muffled curses painted a vivid picture of their sweaty labor. I could almost smell the musky scent of their exertion as it drifted downstairs, and I couldn't help but feel a little thrill knowing that my two men must look very hot right now.
I pictured Dad, his burly frame huffing and puffing as he manhandled dusty boxes, and Zac, his muscles bulging as he wrestled with the heavier pieces. I could see the sweat beading on their foreheads, their t-shirts sticking to their torsos like second skins, outlining the contours of their abs and chests.
They would occasionaly make theyer way downstairs, their muscles gleaming with sweat and their faces flushed with exertion. Dad would tell me to stay out of the way, but not without a playful swat on the back that made me giggle. Zac, on the other hand, would give me a look that was half annoyed, half amused, as if to say 'you little shit, enjoying this, aren't you?' But I knew he didn't really mean it. I'd bring them water, lemonade, whatever they needed, playing the doting little brother while inwardly basking in the sight of their masculine efforts.
Eventually, the symphony of grunts and thuds from the attic grew faint, and I could tell that the grueling task was nearing its end. The sound of heavy boots descending the stairs signaled Zac and Dad's arrival, both looking like they'd just run a marathon—sweat-drenched and disheveled, but with a hint of satisfaction in their eyes. The sight of them, their muscles bulging with the exertion of the day, had my heart racing.
"Alright, squirt," Zac called out as he descended the stairs, his muscles rippling with every movement, "You're not going to believe the shit we found up there." He was carrying a cardboard box that looked ready to burst at the seams, a smirk playing on his lips as he approached me on the couch.
Dad followed him down, his own box seemingly lighter in comparison, his breaths coming in short puffs. He set it down with a thump on the living room floor, to take a quick breath. "Looks like we're going to have to wait for Henry to get his ass back here to get the rest of this heavy stuff down," he grumbled, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.
"I don't know what the hell this all is, but it's definitely going to the dump," Dad said, eyeing the cardboard box in Zac's arms. "Better make it quick, though. I've got to run to the hardware store before they close."
Zac nodded, his smirk widening as Dad lumbered out the front door. "You know, I have found some pretty cool stuff in that old junk," he said, setting the box down next to me with a thud. I leaned over to peer into the box, my curiosity piqued despite my earlier contentment.
"Oh yeah?" I asked, playing along with his game. "Like what, a collection of your old Pokémon cards?"
Zac just chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. "Better than that."
I rolled my eyes, expecting another one of his juvenile jokes. "If it's not Pokémon, I don't care," I said, reaching for the TV remote. But his expression, the glint in his eye, made me pause. He reached into the box and pulled out an object that made me do a double-take. It was a dildo, massive and electric blue, with a veined shaft that looked like it could give any porn star a run for their money.
"Where the hell did you get that ugly shit?" I asked, half-laughing, half-disgusted.
Zac's grin grew even wider. "Found it up in the attic," he said, his voice thick with amusement. "Think it's from when Mom was still around."
"Oh hell no," I said, my eyes wide with a mix of horror and fascination as I stared at the monstrous blue dildo in Zac's hand. "That is definitely not from when Mom was around."
Zac just shrugged, his grin not wavering. "Could've sworn it was," he said, turning the toy over in his hand as if admiring a fine piece of art. "Maybe it was one of hers, you know, for when she needed a little extra... something."
I snorted. "Gross, Zac," I said, pushing myself up from the couch. "Put that thing away."
Zac just chuckled, his grin turning positively evil. "Afraid it's going to replace me?" He waggled the dildo at me playfully.
I couldn't help but roll my eyes, my cheeks heating up despite the casual air in the room. "You're such a dick," I said, but the laugh that followed betrayed my amusement.
Zac's grin only grew as he tossed the dildo from one hand to the other. "What, you don't think it's a little... kinky?"
I scoffed, trying to hide the way my stomach flipped at the thought of our mother using something so... large. "It's not like it's a treasure or anything," I said, trying to keep my voice light. "Just toss it out with the rest of the crap."
But Zac wasn't listening. His eyes had lit up with mischief, and he was already turning the dildo over in his hand, inspecting it like it was a rare artifact. "It's got some girth to it, though," he mused, a smug smirk playing on his lips. "Think you could handle it?"
I rolled my eyes, feigning boredom. "Like I'd ever let you near me with that thing," I said, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice. The idea of my brother watching me with that thing was both terrifying and... thrilling. "Well it does have a realistic shape, I'll give it that," I said, trying to play along.
Zac's smirk grew wider, and I could see the cogs turning in his head. "Maybe you should give it a go," he said, his voice low and suggestive. "You know, just to prove to me that you're not scared of a little challenge."
I had bigger ones, sure—like Henry's, for instance—but the thrill wasn't just from the size of the dildo Zac had unearthed. What really turned me on was the fact that he'd thought of using it on me, that he'd considered it as an option for our little secret games. It was as if he'd peered into the darkest corner of my mind and pulled out the exact thing that would drive me wild.
The electric blue cock in his hand was a silent declaration of intent, and the way he eyed me with that smug grin, I knew he was just baiting me, waiting for me to crack. And boy, did I want to crack. The thought of him watching me take that dick was enough to make my cock throb. I tried to play it cool, though, acting nonchalant as I leaned back against the couch, one hand casually stroking the soft fabric of my shorts.
Zac stepped closer, his arm muscles bulging as he held the dildo out to me. "Take it," he said, his voice a low growl. "Clean it up and hide it. We'll use it sometime, when Dad's not around."
I stared at him, my heart racing. The way he looked at me, the challenge in his eyes, the smugness that didn't quite hide the desire—it was like he was daring me to take it. And, fuck, did I want to take it from his strong hands.
I looked up to him from where I sat, his cocky grin and the gleaming arrogance... He was so fucking hot in that moment, it was like the attic had been a gym for him, his muscles bulging, his skin glistening with sweat. The way his shorts clung to his thick thighs and the way his shirt was stuck to his massive torso made it clear that he'd been working hard, and it was making me so aroused that my heart was racing.
Slowly, I let my eyes wander upwards from the electric blue dildo in his hands to meet Zac's gaze, my heart racing with a mix of excitement and nerves. I bit my bottom lip, a silent invitation, and reached out to take the toy from him. Our fingertips brushed together, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. His eyes never left mine as I took it, my hand wrapping around the thick, veined shaft with a deliberate sensuality that made my skin tingle.
"Don't look at me like that," Zac murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate in my very soul. I looked up at him, my eyes glazed with lust as I took the dildo from his hands. The way he watched me, his eyes darkening with desire, made me feel like the sexiest creature on the planet.
"I guess I'll go help Dad finish up," Zac said, his eyes still lingering on me as he took a step back. "But don't think you're off the hook, squirt. We've got some unfinished business to attend to."
The way he said it sent a thrill down my spine, and I couldn't help the smug smile that spread across my face. "I don't know, Zac," I said, tilting my head to the side and pretending to think it over. But he only laughed it off, knowing full well that the sight of him with that dildo had already set my imagination on fire.
I watched him turn around and head towards the front door, the box of junk in his arms making his biceps bulge in the most tantalizing way. My eyes roved over his broad back, sweat-soaked and glistening in the dim light of the hallway.
Zac glanced back at me, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. He knew exactly what I was thinking—what we both were thinking. It was a dance we'd done countless times before, a dance of desire and power, of brotherly rivalry turned into something... more. And as he disappeared behind the frontdoor to help Dad with the last of the heavy lifting, I couldn't help but eye him up and down, already anticipating what would happen when we were alone again.
