My boyfriend’s younger brother keeps stealing my hoodies. No for real. Freddie’s always nicking them from my drawer or the back of the chair, saying they’re comfier than his own stuff or that he gets cold at night. My boyfriend Oliver just laughs it off. Says his lil’ bro has always been like that. Clingy. Needy for comfort. But it’s not just borrowing. It’s the way Freddie looks in them. The way the sleeves swallow his hands. The way the hem rides up when he stretches or bends over to grab something from the fridge. Showing the waistband of his tighty-whities. Showing the curve of his arse. Showing skin that makes my throat go dry and my cock thicken in my jeans.
We live in a small flat in North London. One bedroom for me and Oliver. A tiny box room for guests. Freddie’s been crashing here every reading week and half term since he started uni in Manchester. He’s 19 now. Lean. Twinkish. Messy brown hair that falls into his eyes. Big innocent eyes that don’t look so innocent when he’s staring too long. A soft mouth that smiles easy. And a body that’s slim but toned from running and whatever else he does at the gym. He’s cute. Too fucking cute. And hot in a way that sneaks up on you. Oliver’s sweet. Steady. Works long hours in an office and comes home tired but happy. Freddie’s the opposite. Restless. Always moving. Always watching.
It started small. He’d borrow a hoodie for the night. Return it the next morning smelling faintly of his shampoo. Then he started keeping them longer. Wearing them around the house. Walking from the bathroom to the kitchen in just my hoodie and tiny black briefs that hugs his arse like a second skin. Oliver never noticed. Or if he did, he didn’t really care. But I noticed. Every time. The way the fabric clings to his shoulders. The way it drapes over his hips. The way his cock outline shows when he’s half hard in the morning. I tell myself it’s nothing. He’s Oliver’s brother. Off limits. But my dick doesn’t listen. I end up jerking in the shower thinking about him in my clothes. Thinking about peeling that hoodie off him slowly. Thinking about what his skin would feel like under my hands.
Oliver works late a lot. Shift patterns at the office. Meetings that run over. One Tuesday he texted he’d be home after nine. I got back from work around six. The flat was quiet. Freddie was in the spare room. Door cracked. I heard soft sounds. Breathing. A low moan. My pulse kicked up. I froze in the hallway for a second. Then I turned away. Walked straight to my bedroom. Shut the door behind me. Leaned against it. Tried to ignore the heat crawling up my neck. Tried to pretend I hadn’t just heard Freddie jerking off.
I sat on the edge of the bed. Hands on my knees. Cock already half hard in my trousers. Mind replaying the sounds I’d just heard. The wet rhythmic stroke. The muffled “Fuck… yeah…”
I rubbed my face. Told myself to breathe. Told myself he was Oliver’s brother and that I already have a boyfriend. Told myself this was nothing.
A couple of minutes passed. Maybe ten or fifteen. The door handle turned slow. Freddie pushed in without knocking. Shirtless. Just in those tiny briefs that he loves wearing around the house . My grey hoodie balled up in his hands. Face flushed. Cheeks pink. Hair messy. Eyes guilty but flicking over me like he was starving.
He stopped just inside the doorway. Bit his lip. Voice small. “Chris…. Mate… I kinda made a mess.”
I looked at the hoodie. Saw the wet dark patches inside. The fabric still warm from his body. “Dude. What the fuck did you do?”
He looked down. Shifted his weight. Cock still half hard in his briefs. Tent obvious. “I was jerking off. In your hoodie. Smelling it. And I came. All over the inside. Didn’t mean to. It just kinda happened.”
Heat climbed my neck again. Pissed. Turned on. Conflicted. “That’s my favourite hoodie Freddie. You know that.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll wash it. I’ll buy you a new one. I just… fuck. I couldn’t stop.”
He looked up. Eyes big. Guilty. But there was something else there too. Something slutty. Hungry. His cock twitched in his briefs. Tent getting worse. He was biting his lip again. Shifting. Like he was waiting for something.
I stood up. Stepped closer. Voice low. “Nah, I don’t want a new one. You keep stealing my hoodies. Now…What are we going to do about this?”
Freddie swallowed. Voice small. Breathy. “Uhm. I don’t know. How can I… uh… make up for it?”
His eyes flicked down to my crotch. Then back up. Slutty now. No pretending. Pitch tenting obvious in those tiny briefs. Cock straining the fabric. Wet spot forming at the tip.
I felt the anger twist into something hotter. He looked too fucking cute standing there. Shirtless. Hair messy. Cheeks pink. Guilty. Cock hard for me. In my room. While Oliver was at work.
I grabbed his wrist. Pulled him closer. He gasped soft. Didn’t pull away.
“You made a mess in my hoodie.” My voice rough. “And now…you’re gonna make up for it.”
He nodded fast. Eyes wide. “Yeah. Anything. Tell me what to do.”
I pushed him back towards the bed. He stumbled a little. Followed. Hoodie still clutched in one hand. Cock bobbing in his briefs.
We got to the bed. I guided him down on his back. He landed with a soft bounce. Legs spread automatically. Hoodie fell beside him.
I climbed over him. Pinned his wrists above his head. Leaned down. Kissed him rough. Hard. He moaned into my mouth. Kissed back desperate. Tongue sliding against mine. Body arching up. Cock rubbing against my thigh through the thin fabric.
I broke the kiss. Voice low. “You want to make it right?”
“Yes. Fuck yes.”
“Then you’re gonna take your punishment.”
His eyes lit up. Slutty. Needy. “Punish me, Chris.”
I released his wrists. Sat back on my heels. Looked down at him. Shirtless. Legs spread. Briefs soaked at the tip. Cock throbbing against his stomach. Hoodie stained beside him.
“Take these off.”
He hooked his thumbs in the waistband. Pushed the briefs down. Kicked them off. Naked now. Cock slapping against his abs. Leaking steadily.
I grabbed the ruined hoodie. Wiped the fresh cum from his tip with it. Slow. Deliberate. Smearing it into the fabric. He watched. Breathing fast. Cock jumping every time the hoodie brushed him. I held the stained patch up to his mouth. “Lick it clean.” He leaned forward without hesitation. Tongue darting out. Lapping up the mess he’d made. Moaning soft as he tasted himself mixed with the fabric. Eyes locked on mine. Slutty. Obedient.
“You came all over my favourite hoodie.” I tossed the hoodie aside. “So now I’m gonna cum all over you.”
His eyes widened. Then darkened. “Fuck. Yeah. Do it.”
I stripped my shirt. Trousers. Boxers. Cock springing free. Hard. Leaking. I straddled his chest. Knees on either side. Cock hovering over his face. He opened his mouth automatically. Tongue out.
“Nahhh.” I stroked myself slow. Right above him. “You watch me cum, boy.”
He whimpered. Hands fisting the sheets. Eyes glued to my cock. To the way my fist moved. To the bead of precum at the tip.
I sped up. Hand dripping with my own leak. Balls tightening. He was panting now. Hips rolling uselessly. Cock leaking onto his abs. Hole clenching on nothing.
“Chris… please…let me taste it”
I leaned forward. Pressed the head to his lips. Let him taste the precum. He moaned. Tongue swirling. Sucking the tip.
I pulled back. Stroked faster. Aimed. Came hard. Thick ropes shooting across his face. His cheeks. His mouth. His chin. One hit his eye. Another landed on his tongue. He swallowed what he could. Licked his lips. Moaned like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.
I kept stroking through it. Milked the last drops onto his tongue. He licked them up. Eyes half lidded. Face painted.
“Good fuckin’ boy.” I panted. Leaned down. Kissed him messy. Tasted myself on him. He kissed back hungry. Hands in my hair. Pulling me closer.
I flipped him onto his stomach. Spread his cheeks. Hole pink. Wet. I spat on it. Rubbed my cock through the mess on his face. Then lined up.
“You want the rest of your punishment?”
“Yes. Fuck. Please.”
I pushed in slowly. Raw. Inch by inch. He gasped. Back arching. Hole clenching tight. Hot. Wet. Perfect.
I bottomed out. Held. Let him feel it. Then started thrusting. Slow at first. Deep. Building. Hand on the back of his neck. Keeping him down. Face pressed to the mattress. Moaning muffled.
“Take it.” I growled. “This is what happens when you cum in my hoodie.”
He pushed back. Met every thrust. Hole gripping. Squeezing. Begging for more.
“Harder… fuck… Chris… harder”
I sped up. Bed creaking. Wet slap of skin on skin. His moans turning high. Desperate. Cock leaking onto the sheets underneath him.
He came again. Untouched. Spurting hard. Hole pulsing around me. Milking me tight.
That pushed me over. I buried deep. Came inside him. Thick pulses flooding his guts. He moaned my name. Shaking. Hole clenching to pull every drop.
I pulled out slowly. Watched cum leak from his wrecked hole. Drip down his thighs. Onto the sheets.
He rolled over. Face still messy with my load. Grinned. Voice wrecked. “That was fucking hot”
I laughed. Low. Breathless. Leaned down. Kissed him again. Slow this time. Tasting everything. “Yeah. Kinda”
I pulled back just enough to look at him. Thumb swiped a streak of cum from his cheek. Fed it to him. He sucked it clean without hesitation. Eyes locked on mine.
“Are you gonna steal my hoodie again?”
He nodded. Slow. Slutty little smile tugging his swollen lips. “Yes.”
I laughed again. Darker this time. “And you’re gonna cum in it?”
Another nod. Eyes flicking down then back up. Cock already twitching against his stomach. “Yeah. I will”
I leaned closer. Voice rough against his ear. “What a fucking slut. You’ll be punished harder next time.”
Freddie shivered. Hole clenching on nothing. Cum still leaking slow from him onto the sheets. He bit his lip. Voice small but needy. “I’m counting on it.”
I kissed him once more. Hard. Claiming. Then stood up. Pulled him to his feet. We cleaned up quick. Hoodie straight in the wash. Freddie went back to his room. Just in time. Oliver texted he was on his way.
Next morning Oliver made breakfast. Freddie came out in one of my other hoodies. Fresh. Clean. The sleeves were too long on him. Hem skimming his thighs. He smiled at me over his coffee.
“Cheers for the hoodie, mate.”
I met his eyes. Felt my cock twitch.
“Anytime.”
So yeah. My boyfriend’s little brother keeps stealing my hoodies. And now I let him. Cause if he makes a mess again, I punish him with my cock down his throat and up his ass.
That’s the new rule now.
Freddie knows it and he’s intentionally going to make a mess again.
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