Saturday – Brothers
Saturday brought no construction work. No trucks in the driveway. No excuse to be at Jack’s house.
Ethan, Carl, and Richard spent the day at Richard’s house, pretending everything was normal.
The guilt was thick in the air from the moment they woke up. They avoided eye contact during breakfast. Carl made coffee. Richard cooked eggs. Ethan sat at the table staring at his phone, his ass still sore and leaking from the previous days.
By mid-afternoon, Carl and Richard were alone in the living room while Ethan was upstairs taking a long shower. The two brothers sat on opposite ends of the couch, the TV playing some forgotten game.
Carl finally spoke, voice low and strained.
“What the fuck are we doing, Rich?”
Richard rubbed his face. “I know. I know it’s wrong.”
“We fucked your son,” Carl said, almost whispering. “We fucked my nephew. We turned that boy into a cumdump right alongside the homeowner’s kid. If anyone ever finds out…”
They sat in heavy silence for a long time, reviewing how it had spiraled.
“It started with Jack,” Richard said eventually. “That sweet little face. Those big innocent eyes. The way he looked at us in those tiny shorts… He seduced us. Made us lose control.”
Carl nodded slowly. “He seemed so fucking pure. Like he didn’t even know what he was doing. But the second we touched him… he took every cock like he was starving for it. That mouth. That tight little ass. The way he moaned so sweetly even when we were wrecking him.”
The more they talked about Jack, the thicker the air became.
Richard shifted on the couch. “His cum was so sweet compared to ours. Delicate. Almost innocent. And the way his hole clenched when we pumped load after load into him…”
Carl’s hand unconsciously adjusted the growing bulge in his shorts. A visible wet spot was forming where his cock was leaking.
Richard noticed. His eyes lingered on his brother’s crotch.
“You’re hard just talking about it,” Richard said quietly.
Carl flushed. “Fuck off. So are you.”
Richard looked down at his own tented shorts, then back at his brother. “What are you gonna do about that, Carl?”
Carl stared at him, stunned. “Rich… we can’t. You’re my brother.”
Richard moved closer on the couch, voice dropping. “We already crossed every line this week. What’s one more?”
It took time. Richard had to seduce his own brother---slow touches on the thigh, reminding him how good it felt to finally let go, how no one would ever know. Carl resisted, ashamed, but his cock kept throbbing.
Eventually Carl gave in.
The brothers finally unleashed decades of buried tension.
They kissed hard and sloppy, years of repression exploding between them. Clothes came off quickly. Richard dropped to his knees and took his brother’s thick, musky cock into his mouth, sucking greedily. The smell was intense---neither had showered properly after yesterday’s debauchery. The heavy, ripe scent of sweat, dried cum, and unwashed balls drove them both wild.
Carl groaned, gripping his brother’s hair. “Fuck… Rich… your mouth feels so good.”
They became beasts.
Richard bent Carl over the couch and ate his hairy, sweaty ass with savage hunger, tongue fucking deep into his brother’s hole. Carl moaned like a whore, pushing back. Then Richard mounted him---sliding his bare cock into his own brother and fucking him with raw, aggressive strokes. The wet slapping sounds and filthy grunts filled the living room.
They went at it for hours.
Carl fucked Richard next, pounding him into the couch while they kissed sloppily. They sucked each other’s cocks, 69’d on the floor, rimmed each other’s filthy holes, and swapped loads. Richard came deep in Carl’s ass, then Carl returned the favor, breeding his brother. They pissed on each other in the shower, then fucked again on the bathroom floor. Sweat, cum, and musk turned them feral.
By late afternoon they were spent---naked, cum-splattered, piss-soaked, and reeking---collapsed on the couch watching TV.
That’s when Ethan walked in.
He froze in the doorway, eyes wide with horror at the scene: his father and uncle naked, covered in drying cum and sweat, the room stinking of incestuous sex.
“What the fuck…?” Ethan whispered.
Richard and Carl looked at each other. A dark understanding passed between them.
They moved fast.
They grabbed Ethan, wrestling him down onto the couch despite his struggles. “No— Dad, stop! Uncle Carl— please!”
They ripped his clothes off. Carl sat on Ethan’s face, grinding his sweaty, cum-leaking ass against his nephew’s mouth. “Lick it up, boy. Guess whose cum that is.”
Richard held Ethan’s legs open and started fucking him raw while Ethan whimpered and resisted. They spit-roasted him, then DP’d him brutally on the couch. Load after load was pumped down his throat and into his ass as he struggled.
When they were finally finished, Ethan lay whimpering on the floor, leaking from both ends.
Carl stood up, wiped his cock on Ethan’s face, and left the room without a word.
Richard stayed.
He pulled his son into his arms gently, kissing his forehead. “Shhh, it’s okay, son. I’ve got you.”
Then, tenderly, Richard took Ethan’s cock into his mouth and sucked him lovingly until his son came down his throat. Richard kissed Ethan deeply, snowballing the fresh load between their tongues.
They collapsed together in a sweaty, cum-covered heap on the couch.
Richard stroked his son’s hair and whispered, “I love you, Ethan.”
Ethan, exhausted and broken, whispered back:
“I love you too, Dad.”
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