Marcus sits up, stretching his massive arms above his head. His muscles flex and ripple, still glistening with sweat and oil. The gold cross swings between his pecs as he moves.
"I should probably shower," he says, grinning at both of us. "Get cleaned up before Mom and Dad get home."
"Good idea," I say, watching him stand. His cock is still semi-hard, swinging between his thick thighs as he walks toward the door. His ass is incredible—two perfect globes of muscle, flexing with each step.
He grabs a towel from Michael's closet and heads out, leaving the door open behind him. A moment later, I hear the bathroom door close and the shower turn on.
Michael immediately turns to me, his face lighting up like a puppy who just got told he's going for a walk.
"Jordan, you should totally stay over tonight!" he says, bouncing slightly on the bed. "We can hang out, play games, and—" He lowers his voice conspiratorially, even though we're alone. "—I could really use a cock muscle massage too. Marcus got one and I didn't. That's not fair."
I can't help but grin. He's pouting, actually pouting.
"You think you need one?" I ask, reaching over to ruffle his hair.
"Yeah!" Michael nods enthusiastically. "I've been working out a lot this week. My cock muscle is probably really tense. You said it's important to keep it healthy, right?"
"Absolutely," I say, my mind already racing with possibilities. "It's crucial for athletes like you."
"So you'll stay?" Michael's eyes are wide and hopeful.
"We'll see," I say, shifting to face him properly. "But if you really need a massage, we should probably take care of that now. Before your parents get home."
Michael's face lights up even more. "Really? Right now?"
"Right now," I confirm, patting my lap. "Come here."
Michael scrambles over immediately and I straddle his lap. He's still completely naked, his massive body warm against mine. His cock is already starting to harden, pressing against my stomach.
I run my hands up his sides, feeling the hard muscle beneath smooth skin. His body is incredible—thick pecs, defined abs, powerful shoulders. He's only nineteen but built like a Greek god.
"You've been working hard," I murmur, my hands moving to his chest. I squeeze his pecs, feeling the firm muscle. "These are getting bigger."
"You think so?" Michael beams, flexing his chest. His pecs bounce, and I squeeze them harder.
"Definitely," I say, my thumbs brushing over his nipples. They're already hard, sensitive. Michael gasps slightly at the touch.
My hands slide down to his abs, tracing each ridge of muscle. His breathing is getting heavier, his cock fully hard now, pressing insistently against me.
"Your cock muscle definitely needs attention," I say, reaching down to wrap my hand around his shaft. It's thick and hot, pulsing in my grip. "It's very tense."
"It is?" Michael's voice is breathy, his hips pushing forward into my hand.
"Very," I confirm, stroking him slowly. "We need to take care of this. You want me to help you, don't you?"
"Yes," Michael breathes. "Please, Jordan. I need it."
"You need what?" I ask, squeezing his cock. "Tell me what you need."
"I need—" Michael's face flushes. "I need a cock muscle massage. Please. I need you to help me."
"Good boy," I murmur, releasing his cock. I reach behind me and grab the massage oil from where it's still sitting on the bed.
I pour oil into my palm and reach between my legs, slicking up my hole. Michael watches with wide, innocent eyes, not understanding what I'm doing.
Then I reach for his cock, coating it with oil. Michael groans at the sensation, his hips bucking forward.
"This is going to feel really good," I say, positioning myself above him. "This is the advanced internal massage technique. The one that really helps."
"Okay," Michael says eagerly. "Whatever you think is best."
I lift up slightly and reach back, gripping his cock. It's massive in my hand, thick and hard and ready. I position the head at my entrance—my hole is still stretched and slick from Marcus, still leaking his cum—and start to sink down.
The penetration is easier this time. My body is already opened up, already used. Michael's cock slides in smoothly, filling me in one long, slow descent.
"Oh fuck," Michael gasps, his hands flying to my hips. "Jordan—that's—what—"
"Shh," I murmur, sinking down until I'm sitting fully on his cock. He's buried balls deep inside me, his thick shaft stretching me, filling me completely. "This is the massage. This is how we keep your cock muscle healthy."
Michael's mouth is open, his eyes glazed with pleasure. His hands move from my hips to my ass, squeezing the firm flesh. His fingers dig in, gripping, exploring.
"You feel so good," he breathes, and his voice is full of wonder. "So warm. So tight."
"That's because your cock muscle is responding to the massage," I say, starting to move. I lift up slowly, feeling his cock drag against my inner walls, then sink back down. "The better it feels, the more effective it is."
"It feels amazing," Michael moans, his head falling back. His hands are still gripping my ass, squeezing and kneading. He looks like a puppy in heaven—completely blissed out, tongue practically hanging out, eyes half-closed with pleasure.
I start riding him properly now, lifting and sinking in a steady rhythm. His cock fills me perfectly, hitting all the right spots. My own cock is hard again, bouncing with each movement, leaking pre-cum onto his abs.
Michael's breathing is getting heavier, his chest heaving. His pecs are flexing with each breath, the thick muscle rippling. The gold cross is swinging between them.
"You're such a good buddy," Michael pants, his eyes opening to look at me. "Helping me out like this. You're the best."
"That's what buddies do," I say, bouncing faster. "We help each other stay healthy."
Michael's grin is wide and genuine and so fucking dumb. He has no idea what we're actually doing. He genuinely believes this is health maintenance.
Then his eyes shift, looking over my shoulder, and his grin gets even wider.
"Marcus!" he says happily. "You're back!"
I turn my head to look. Marcus is standing in the doorway, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. His massive body is still wet from the shower, water droplets running down his chest, his abs, disappearing into the towel. His hair is damp and messy, his skin flushed from the hot water.
He's staring at us—at me riding his little brother's cock—and he's grinning.
"Dude," Marcus says, walking into the room. "You're giving Michael a massage too? That's awesome."
"Yeah," I say, not stopping my movements. I continue riding Michael slowly, my bubble butt bouncing on his cock. "He said he needed one. Didn't want to feel left out."
"That's so cool of you," Marcus says, coming closer. He's standing right next to the bed now, towering over us. His eyes are tracking my movements—watching my ass bounce, watching his brother's cock disappear inside me over and over. "You're really good at this, Jordan. Like, really good."
"Thanks," I say, grinding down on Michael's cock. Michael groans beneath me, his hands tightening on my ass. "I've had a lot of practice."
"I can tell," Marcus says. He sits on the edge of the bed, his towel riding up slightly. I can see the thick outline of his cock beneath the fabric. "Michael looks like he's in heaven."
"I am," Michael pants, his voice strained. "This is—this is so good—"
"See?" I say to Marcus, bouncing faster now. "This is exactly what young athletes need. Regular cock muscle massages to keep everything healthy and functioning properly."
"Totally," Marcus agrees, nodding enthusiastically. "I feel so much better after mine. So relaxed. So... healthy."
I'm riding Michael harder now, my ass slapping against his thighs with each bounce. My bubble butt jiggles with the impact, the firm flesh bouncing. Michael's cock is driving deep inside me, hitting my prostate with every thrust.
"You should come closer," I say to Marcus, my voice breathy. "Get a better look. See the technique."
Marcus doesn't hesitate. He stands and moves around to the side of the bed, getting a perfect view of where Michael's cock is disappearing inside me. His towel is tenting now, his cock clearly hard beneath the fabric.
"Wow," Marcus breathes, his eyes wide. "That's... that's really intense. You can see everything."
"That's the point," I gasp, bouncing faster. "You need to see how the cock muscle responds. How it moves. How it works."
Marcus is leaning in now, his face close, watching intently. He's so tall, so massive, towering over both of us. His wet body is glistening, his muscles flexing as he shifts his weight.
"Michael's cock looks really healthy," Marcus observes seriously. "Like, really strong and responsive."
"It is," I moan, grinding down hard. "He's been taking good care of it."
Michael is groaning beneath me now, his whole body tense. His hands are bruising on my ass, his hips starting to thrust up to meet my movements. His breathing is ragged, his chest heaving.
"Jordan—" he gasps. "I'm—I'm getting close—"
I can feel it—his cock is swelling inside me, throbbing, pulsing. He's right on the edge.
And I pull off.
Michael's cock slides out of me with a wet sound, slapping against his abs. He's rock hard, glistening with oil and my slickness, the head purple and leaking.
"No!" Michael whines, his hips bucking up desperately. "Why—I was so close—"
"Can't let you finish yet," I say, sliding off his lap. My hole is throbbing, clenching around nothing, leaking. "I need to get home. My parents don't like it when I'm out too late."
That's a complete lie. My parents barely notice when I come and go. But Michael and Marcus don't know that.
"What?" Michael sits up, looking devastated. "But—but I didn't finish my massage!"
"You can't leave now," Marcus adds, standing up. His towel has come loose, hanging precariously on his hips. "You just got here!"
"I've been here for hours," I say, reaching for my shorts. They're crumpled on the floor, still damp with sweat. I slide them on, the tight fabric clinging to my ass, my thighs.
"Stay over!" Michael says desperately, scrambling off the bed. His cock is still hard, bobbing in front of him as he moves. "Please! We can have a sleepover! It'll be so fun!"
"Yeah!" Marcus agrees enthusiastically. "We can hang out, play games, do more massages—"
"I really can't," I say, pulling on my compression shirt. It's also damp, clinging to my chest and abs. "My parents are expecting me."
I head for the door, and both brothers follow me like puppies chasing their owner.
"Please," Michael begs, grabbing my arm. "Just stay. We'll have so much fun."
"I promise we'll make it worth it," Marcus adds, his hand on my other arm.
I'm at the doorway now, both of them crowding around me, their massive bodies pressing close. Michael is still completely naked, his hard cock pressing against my hip. Marcus's towel has fallen off completely, pooling at his feet.
"I really need to—"
"Wait!" Marcus says suddenly, his face lighting up. "I have an idea!"
I pause, looking at him. "What?"
"Pushup contest," Marcus says, grinning. "Me and Michael. You can be the judge. Just one contest, and then if you still want to leave, you can."
I look between them—these two massive, beautiful, completely naked jocks, both looking at me with wide, hopeful eyes.
"Fine," I say, unable to stop my grin. "One contest."
They both cheer, high-fiving each other. I walk back to the bed and sit down, leaning back against the headboard.
"Alright," I say. "Let's see what you've got."
Marcus and Michael position themselves on the floor, side by side, both dropping into pushup position. Their bodies are incredible—broad shoulders, thick arms, muscular backs tapering to narrow waists. Their asses are perfect, two sets of firm globes flexing as they position themselves.
"On three," Marcus says. "One... two... three!"
They start pumping out pushups, their bodies moving in sync. Their muscles are flexing and rippling with each movement—shoulders bunching, triceps bulging, backs working. Their asses flex with each rep, tight and firm.
I'm watching them with growing amusement. They're both so focused, so competitive, their faces set in concentration.
"Come on, Michael!" Marcus grunts. "Keep up!"
"I am keeping up!" Michael shoots back, pumping faster.
They're at twenty reps now, both of them breathing hard. Sweat is starting to bead on their skin, making their muscles glisten.
"Thirty!" Marcus counts. "Come on, little bro!"
"I'm—right—here—" Michael pants.
At forty reps, Michael's form starts to break. His hips are sagging, his arms shaking.
"Ha!" Marcus says triumphantly. "I'm winning!"
"No you're not!" Michael argues, even though he clearly is.
At fifty, Michael collapses onto his stomach, breathing hard. Marcus does five more reps, then stands up, flexing his arms in victory.
"I win!" he announces, grinning.
"That's not fair!" Michael says, rolling onto his back. "You're older! You have more practice!"
"Excuses, excuses," Marcus teases, reaching down to pull Michael up.
But instead of helping him up, Michael grabs Marcus's wrist and yanks. Marcus, caught off guard, tumbles down on top of his brother.
They both laugh, and suddenly they're wrestling—playfully, roughly, their massive bodies rolling across the floor. Muscles flex and strain as they grapple, trying to pin each other. Their cocks are swinging, slapping against thighs and abs as they move.
"I'm gonna get you!" Michael laughs, trying to flip Marcus over.
"Not a chance!" Marcus shoots back, using his superior size to his advantage.
They're completely forgetting about the contest, about me watching. They're just two dumb jocks playing around, completely unselfconscious about being naked, about their hard cocks, about anything.
Then they both look at me at the same time, identical grins spreading across their faces.
Before I can react, they're both lunging at me. I laugh as they tackle me onto the bed, their massive bodies pinning me down. Michael is on one side, Marcus on the other, both of them laughing and grabbing at me.
"You thought you could escape!" Michael says, tickling my sides.
"Never!" Marcus adds, his hands on my shoulders.
I'm laughing, squirming between them, my hands reaching out to grab whatever I can. I get a handful of Marcus's pec, squeezing the thick muscle. He gasps, and I squeeze harder, my thumb brushing over his nipple.
My other hand finds Michael's ass, gripping the firm flesh. He moans, pushing back into my touch.
"You guys are ridiculous," I say, but I'm grinning.
I shift my grip, getting both hands on their pecs now. They're both kneeling on either side of me, their massive chests right in front of my face. I squeeze and knead the thick muscle, feeling it flex beneath my palms. Their nipples are hard, sensitive, and I brush my thumbs over them repeatedly.
"Fuck," Marcus breathes, his eyes fluttering closed.
"That feels good," Michael adds, his voice breathy.
My hands slide down, over their abs, feeling each ridge of muscle. Then lower, gripping their cocks. They're both rock hard, thick and hot in my hands. I stroke them slowly, feeling them pulse and throb.
"Jordan—" Michael moans.
I release them and reach around, grabbing their asses. Firm, muscular, perfect. I squeeze hard, my fingers digging into the flesh, pulling them closer.
They're both panting now, their bodies pressing against me from either side. The heat is overwhelming—three bodies, all sweaty and aroused, tangled together on the bed.
We collapse together, a heap of limbs and muscle. I end up on my back, Marcus on one side, Michael on the other. I turn my head and press my face against Marcus's chest, using his massive pec as a pillow. It's firm and warm, rising and falling with his breathing.
We lie there for a moment, catching our breath. The room smells like sweat and sex and oil. The afternoon light is fading, casting long shadows across the bed.
Then Marcus shifts slightly, and I feel his cock—still hard—pressing against my thigh.
"Jordan," he says, his voice hopeful. "I think I need another cock muscle massage."
I lift my head from his pec and look at him. He's grinning that dumb, eager grin, his eyes wide and innocent.
"Another one?" I say, pretending to be tired. "Marcus, I'm exhausted."
"Please?" Marcus's bottom lip pushes out in a pout. "I really need it. My cock muscle is tense again."
I look at him, then at Michael, who's watching us with interest. An idea forms in my mind—dark, twisted, perfect.
"You know," I say slowly, sitting up. "There's actually something even better than a buddy giving you a massage."
"What?" Marcus asks eagerly.
"A brother," I say, looking between them. "Brothers helping each other out is much more effective than buddies. You know each other's bodies better. You're more in sync. The massage is more... intimate."
Michael sits up too, looking confused but interested. "Really?"
"Absolutely," I say, my voice confident and authoritative. "In fact, for optimal cock muscle health, brothers should be massaging each other regularly. It's the best way to maintain function and prevent problems."
"Huh," Marcus says, considering this. "That makes sense. We do know each other really well."
"Exactly," I say, standing up. "Michael, lie down on your back."
Michael obeys immediately, lying back on the bed. His massive body is spread out, his pecs rising like mountains on his chest, his abs defined and perfect, his cock hard and resting against his stomach.
"Marcus," I say, gesturing to the space between Michael's legs. "Come here."
Marcus moves into position, kneeling between his brother's thighs. His massive cock is hanging heavy, already starting to harden again.
"This is called the internal glute massage," I explain, reaching for the massage oil. "It's incredibly effective for athletes. It helps with flexibility, muscle recovery, and overall health."
I pour oil into my palm and reach for Marcus's cock. It hardens fully in my hand as I stroke it, coating it with slick oil. Marcus groans, his hips pushing forward into my grip.
"Michael," I say, looking at the younger brother. "You're going to help Marcus out with an internal massage. It's really important for his cock muscle health. And it'll help your glutes too—getting an internal massage is crucial for muscle recovery."
"Okay," Michael says eagerly. "I want to help my brother."
"Good boy," I murmur, positioning Marcus's cock at Michael's entrance. "Marcus, push forward slowly. Michael, relax and let him in."
Marcus starts pushing forward. The head of his massive cock presses against Michael's hole, and I watch as it starts to stretch around the thick shaft.
"Oh—" Michael gasps, his eyes going wide. "That's—that's big—"
"Relax," I say, my hand on Michael's thigh. "Breathe through it. This is good for you. This is helping your brother."
Marcus pushes forward more, and the head pops inside. Michael's mouth falls open, a long moan escaping.
"Fuck," Marcus breathes, his hands gripping Michael's thighs. "He's so tight—"
"Keep going," I encourage, watching as Marcus's cock slowly disappears inside his brother. Inch by inch, the thick shaft slides in, stretching Michael open, filling him completely.
Michael's breathing is ragged, his chest heaving. His hands are gripping the sheets, his knuckles white. "I'm so—so stretched—but I need to—need to help my brother—"
"That's right," I say, moving to kneel beside the bed. "You're being such a good brother. Helping Marcus out when he needs it."
Marcus is fully inside now, his hips pressed against Michael's ass. They're both panting, both trembling slightly.
"How does it feel?" I ask Marcus.
"Amazing," he breathes. "So tight. So warm."
"Good," I say. "Now start moving. Slow and deep. That's how you give a proper internal massage."
Marcus starts thrusting, pulling out slowly and pushing back in. His massive cock drags against Michael's inner walls, stretching him, filling him. Michael is moaning with each thrust, his head thrown back, his pecs flexing.
I reach out and place my hands on both their chests, feeling their hearts pounding beneath the muscle. Marcus's pecs are heaving with exertion, thick and firm. Michael's are flexing with each breath, the muscle rippling.
"You're both doing so good," I murmur, squeezing their pecs. "Such good brothers, helping each other out."
Marcus's thrusts are getting faster now, harder. His hips are slapping against Michael's ass, the sound echoing in the room. His muscles are working—shoulders bunching, abs clenching, thighs flexing. The gold cross is swinging wildly between his pecs, catching the fading light.
"Fuck—" Marcus groans, and his eyes are starting to roll back. "This is—this is so good—"
He's gooning now, his mouth hanging open, his expression blissed out. His thrusts are becoming erratic, desperate.
"I'm helping—" he pants. "I'm helping my brother—such a good brother—"
His hands slide down from Michael's thighs to his chest, gripping his pecs. He squeezes the thick muscle, his fingers digging in, using them for leverage as he fucks harder.
Michael is groaning beneath him, his whole body shaking with each thrust. "So deep—so full—but I need to—need to help—"
"You are helping," I say, watching them intently. "You're being perfect brothers. Taking care of each other."
I move back slightly, giving myself a better view. My own cock is rock hard in my shorts, straining against the fabric. I pull it out, wrapping my hand around the shaft, stroking slowly as I watch the scene unfold.
This is perfect. This is exactly what I wanted.
Two massive jock brothers, completely oblivious, fucking each other while genuinely believing they're doing health maintenance. The manipulation is flawless.
"Marcus," I say, my voice low and commanding. "Lean forward. Get closer to your brother. The massage is more effective with full body contact."
Marcus obeys immediately, leaning forward over Michael's body. His massive frame covers his younger brother, their bodies pressing together. His chest meets Michael's with a wet slap—both of them are covered in sweat, their skin slick and glistening.
"Oh fuck—" Michael gasps as Marcus's weight settles on him. "That's—that's so much—"
"It's good," I say, stroking my cock faster. "That's how you know it's working."
Marcus's pecs are pressed against Michael's now, the thick muscle sliding together with each thrust. Both their chests are heaving, rising and falling in sync, the firm flesh compressing and releasing. Sweat is pooling between them, making everything slick, making their bodies slide together effortlessly.
The gold cross around Marcus's neck is trapped between their chests now, pressed into Michael's skin.
"Look at your brother," I command, my hand working my cock. "Look at him while you help him."
Marcus lifts his head slightly, and his eyes meet Michael's. They're only inches apart now, their faces so close their breath mingles. Marcus's lips are parted, panting, and Michael's mouth is open in a constant moan.
"Marcus—" Michael breathes, and his voice is full of wonder. "This feels—"
"I know," Marcus gasps, his hips still thrusting, driving his cock deep into his brother. "So good—helping you—"
Their eyes are locked, staring into each other with an intensity that's almost unbearable to watch. Marcus's face is twisted in pleasure, his expression raw and vulnerable. Michael's eyes are wide, glazed, completely lost in the sensation.
They're so close their lips are almost touching. Almost kissing. Just inches apart as they moan and gasp into each other's mouths.
"That's it," I murmur, my hand moving faster on my cock. "Stay close. Feel each other. That's how brothers should help each other."
Michael's hands finally release the sheets. They move up, sliding over Marcus's sides, feeling the hard muscle, the slick sweat. His fingers trace over Marcus's lats, his obliques, exploring his brother's massive body.
"You're so big," Michael breathes, his hands moving higher. "So strong—"
His hands find Marcus's pecs, gripping the thick muscle from underneath. He squeezes hard, feeling them flex and work with each thrust. Marcus groans at the touch, his eyes fluttering.
"Fuck—Michael—"
Michael's hands slide down Marcus's back now, feeling every ridge of muscle, every flex and ripple. His fingers trace down the spine, over the lower back, and then—
His hands grip Marcus's ass.
Both massive globes of muscle, firm and flexing with each thrust. Michael's fingers dig in, squeezing hard, feeling the power in his brother's body.
"Oh—" Marcus gasps, his thrusts faltering for a moment. "That's—"
"Keep going," I say, my own breathing getting heavier. I'm stroking my cock hard now, watching Marcus's ass flex and clench as he fucks his brother. The muscle is incredible—two perfect mounds of power, working with each thrust, driving his cock deeper into Michael.
Michael's grip tightens on Marcus's ass, and then he's pulling. Pulling Marcus into him, controlling the depth, the pace. Each time Marcus thrusts forward, Michael's hands pull him deeper, harder, forcing his brother's cock to hit even deeper inside.
"Yes—" Michael moans, his fingers digging into the firm flesh. "Like that—help me—"
Marcus is pounding into him now, his massive body working, his muscles flexing and rippling with each thrust. Sweat is pouring off both of them, dripping onto the sheets, pooling between their pressed-together chests. Their pecs are sliding together with obscene wet sounds, the thick muscle compressing and releasing.
"Don't look away," I say.
They obey, their eyes locking again. Marcus's face is inches from Michael's, their lips so close they're almost touching. Their breath is hot and ragged, mixing together, their mouths open as they moan and gasp.
"I'm—" Marcus pants, staring into his brother's eyes. "I'm helping you—such a good brother—"
"You are—" Michael gasps back, his hands still gripping Marcus's ass, pulling him deeper with each thrust. "You're helping me so much—"
"Marcus," I say, my voice strained. "Squeeze your pecs together. Flex them against Michael's. That increases the effectiveness of the massage."
Marcus obeys immediately, flexing his chest. The thick muscle hardens, pressing even more firmly against Michael's pecs. Michael gasps at the sensation, his own chest flexing in response.
Their pecs are grinding together now, hard muscle against hard muscle, both of them flexing and releasing in rhythm with Marcus's thrusts. The sweat between them makes everything slick, makes their chests slide together with each movement.
"Oh fuck—" Michael moans, his head falling back slightly. But Marcus follows him, keeping their faces close, keeping their eyes locked.
"Don't look away," Marcus breathes, and there's something almost tender in his voice. "I want to see you—want to see I'm helping—"
"You are—" Michael gasps, his hands sliding from Marcus's ass up to his back, then down again, exploring, gripping, pulling. "You're helping so much—"
Marcus's thrusts are getting harder now, more desperate. His whole body is working—shoulders bunching, abs clenching, ass flexing with each powerful drive forward. The bed is shaking beneath them, the headboard starting to hit the wall with rhythmic thuds.
I can see everything from my position beside the bed—Marcus's massive back muscles rippling, his ass clenching and releasing, his thick cock disappearing into Michael's hole over and over. Michael's hands are all over his brother's body now, gripping, squeezing, pulling him deeper.
"You're both doing so good," I pant, my hand flying over my cock. "Such good brothers. Taking care of each other."
"Gonna—" Marcus gasps, his eyes still locked on Michael's. "Gonna cum—"
"Me too—" Michael moans, his hands gripping Marcus's ass hard, pulling him as deep as possible. "Don't stop—please don't stop—"
"Do it," I say, squeezing my cock hard. "Cum together. Complete the massage. Give each other everything."
Marcus slams into Michael one final time, burying himself balls deep, and then he's cumming. His whole body goes rigid, every muscle clenching, his cock pulsing inside his brother. He's groaning loud, his face still inches from Michael's, their eyes still locked, their lips almost touching.
"Fuck—Michael—fuck—"
The sensation of his brother cumming inside him, the feeling of Marcus's massive body pressed against his, their pecs grinding together, their faces so close—it pushes Michael over the edge. His cock pulses and he's cumming too, thick ropes of cum shooting out between their pressed-together bodies, coating both their abs, their chests, trapped between their sliding pecs.
They stay frozen like that for a long moment—Marcus buried deep inside Michael, their bodies pressed together, their faces inches apart, both of them trembling, panting, staring into each other's eyes.
Finally, Marcus's arms give out and he collapses fully onto Michael, his weight pressing his brother into the mattress. Their chests are still pressed together, both of them breathing hard, their hearts pounding against each other.
I stroke myself through my own orgasm, watching them, watching the cum leak out around Marcus's cock, watching their massive bodies tangled together, sweaty and satisfied and completely oblivious to what they've actually done.
Perfect.
Marcus finally pulls out slowly, his cock sliding free with a wet sound. Cum immediately starts leaking out of Michael's hole, running down his thighs, soaking into the sheets.
Marcus collapses beside Michael, both of them breathing hard. I lie down between them, one brother on each side, all three of us covered in sweat and cum.
"That was..." Michael starts, but he can't seem to find the words.
"Amazing," Marcus finishes, his arm draping across both of us. "That was the best massage ever."
"See?" I say, grinning. "Brothers helping each other out. That's the secret."
"We should do that all the time," Michael says enthusiastically. "Like, every day."
"Definitely," Marcus agrees. "That's what good brothers do."
I lie there between them, these two massive, beautiful, completely oblivious jocks, and I can't stop smiling.
They have no idea what they just did. They genuinely believe they just gave each other health massages.
And they're going to keep doing it, over and over, thinking they're just being good brothers.
Perfect.
Michael shifts closer, pressing against my side. Marcus does the same from the other side, his massive pec serving as my pillow again. Their breathing is starting to slow, becoming deeper, more relaxed.
"You're staying over, right?" Michael mumbles sleepily. "You have to stay now."
"Yeah," I say, closing my eyes. "I'm staying."
"Good," Marcus says, his arm tightening around us. "Best sleepover ever."
I drift off between them, surrounded by heat and muscle and the scent of sex, already planning what I'll have them do next.
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