One night I came home late after hanging with friends. I crept downstairs toward my room and caught sight of my brother in the family room — sprawled on the couch, blanket over his lap, watching porn.

“Why don’t you do that shit in your room?” I asked. “You’ve got a TV up there, too.”

He didn’t even glance at me. Just kept staring at the screen — some chick on her knees going to town on two guys.

Whatever.

I went to my room, changed, grabbed my laundry, and walked toward the utility room. As I passed, I caught a glimpse of movement under his blanket. Yeah — jacking off. Great.

I got the laundry started and passed him again. “Seriously, go up to your room if you’re gonna do that.”

“It’s not like you don’t watch porn too,” he said flatly.

“I do not,” I shot back.

He smirked. “I’ve seen your browser history.”

I wanted to slap the smug off his face — but he’d probably get off on that too.

Then, for some dumb reason, I stood there and watched the screen. Some chick, getting railed by two dudes. I must’ve zoned out because I suddenly heard him go, “If you’re gonna watch, just sit down.”

Half my brain said to walk away. The other half said...why not?

But if I was gonna go down this rabbit hole, I wasn’t doing it sober. I went to my room, took two hard hits from my THC vape, waited until the buzz settled in, then walked back out and dropped into the recliner with a blanket.

New scene starting. Same bad acting. Same predictable setup. Then they got down to business — she was on her knees, mouth stuffed full. Then the spit roast started. My favorite part.

I sat back on the couch, watching. One guy in her pussy, another making his way to her ass. It was about to be a full-on DP — so hot!

I must’ve made a sound, because suddenly he said, “Like that, do you?”

I looked over, stunned. “What?”

“Relax,” he said, eyes on the screen. “Enjoy it.”

“Bet you could handle it,” he said.

That kicked off a whole weird conversation about porn, what we liked, what we didn’t. It started casually, then got bold. Blunt.

“If you’re under that blanket,” he asked, “why are you still dressed?”

I said nothing.

“I’ve been naked this whole time,” he added with a grin.

No shit — I’d seen the movement.

Eventually, I slid my shorts off under the blanket, then my shirt, keeping everything covered. I tried to position myself so he wouldn’t see any movement... but it was obvious. I gave up trying to be subtle.

He kept sneaking glances. Finally, I snapped. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why do you keep looking over here?”

He looked me dead in the eye. “Your right tit’s out.”

I groaned and yanked the blanket up. “Jesus Christ.”

“You could just leave them out,” he said. “You’ve got really nice boobs. Like, seriously.”

I wasn't sure where he was trying to take it.

A few more minutes of silence passed, then I pulled the blanket down and let my boobs show. He didn’t hide the way he stared.

“Damn. They're BIG.”

“Don’t make this weirder than it already is.”

“Just stating facts.”

Eventually, he slid his blanket off his legs. He was fully hard: long, thick, standing at attention. His cock was huge. I bit my lip but said nothing.

“You can look,” he told me. “I don’t care.”

He stood and walked over. “If you won’t turn your head, I’ll just stand here so you can see.”

My brain short-circuited. I couldn’t think, couldn’t talk. Wrapped in my blanket, I stood up and left the room.

“You don’t have to go,” he called after me.

“I’ll be back,” I mumbled. “Need something first.”

Back in my room, I hit my THC vape again. Twice. Let it settle. Then I walked out, dropped the blanket completely, and sat back down. I was completely exposed.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“About what?”

He didn’t answer. Just looked me over. Then:

“You gonna come over here? Or do I need to ask nicely?”

I stood up. Walked to him. Sank to my knees in front of him. He stepped closer, his cock right in front of my mouth.

I inhaled, then slowly wrapped my lips around the head. And just like that, I started sucking his cock.

I tried not to think. Tried not to acknowledge what I was doing. But every second, that voice in the back of my mind reminded me: This is so fucked up.

I didn’t, couldn't stop.

His cock filled my mouth, thick and long. I worked it slowly at first — tongue swirling, lips tight — then picked up speed. I let myself sink into it, let my mind float. Every time I tried to ground myself, reality tried to creep in. This is my brother. Not a boyfriend. Not some hookup. The guy I share parents with. The guy who has some of the same DNA as I do.

Didn’t matter now.

He groaned and dropped a hand onto my head. “Damn, you know what you're doing.”

I pulled back with a wet pop and licked the underside from base to tip. “I've had practice.”

He smirked, breathing heavier. “We should move to your room.”

I blinked. “Why?”

“So I can fuck you.”

That snapped something loose inside me.

“Alright,” I said, standing up. “Let’s go.”

He followed me like a shadow. I opened my door, walked in, and he was already behind me — hands coming around, grabbing my tits, thumbs brushing my nipples. He knew what he was doing.

“Fuck,” I whispered. My nipples are wired straight to my core. Every tug sent lust pouring between my legs.

He brushed my hair off my shoulder and kissed my neck. That was it.

I grabbed his hand and pulled him to the bed. Climbed up and lay back, knees up, legs wide. “There you go.”

He didn’t hesitate. Climbed on, guided the head of his cock to my slit, and started pushing in. Slow. Deep. Controlled. Each thrust sank a little more.

I stared down, watching him disappear inside me, inch by inch. Then I made the mistake of looking up. Eye contact. That grin. The pure lust in his eyes.

Holy shit. This was happening. His cock was buried in me, his body between my legs, hips moving, driving in deeper.

He kept going. Slow at first, then harder. I felt it in my chest, in my throat, in the ache in my thighs. His strokes got deeper, faster — until every thrust landed with a wet slap.

Ramming his cock into me, over and over. "More, I want more," I screamed in my head.

His breathing changed. His muscles tensed. I felt it — he was getting close.

The strokes got sharper. His hips rammed me, every push hitting me harder. One deep thrust after the other, and I felt it. His cock, pulsing inside me.

He groaned through his teeth, emptying his balls inside of me. Deep. Full. Thick spurts that made me clench. He must cum a ton!

He stayed inside me, chest rising and falling, his cock twitching inside my now sloppy pussy.

“Holy fuck,” I whispered. “You came so much.”

He looked down at me, flushed. “Round two in a few minutes?”

I smiled, breathless. “Yeah. Why not? Why stop now?”

I pushed him off gently. “But first — I need to pee.”

I walked to the bathroom, legs shaking. His cum was already dripping down my thigh. I sat, peed, cleaned up as best I could, and looked at myself in the mirror.

You're going to hell. I laughed under my breath. And you're driving the bus.

When I came back out, he was on my bed, cock in hand.

“Ready for round two?” I asked.

“FUCK YES!”

I crawled up, turned around on hands and knees, elbows down, ass up.

“Go ahead.”

He moved behind me, guided himself in, and slid back inside with a thick wet noise that made my toes curl.

This time was different. Rougher. Dirtier.

I kept my head down at first, but then I looked up and caught sight of us in the mirror.

My tits were swinging. His hips were pounding against me. Hands on my hips, gripping tight.

Seeing it… made everything worse, or maybe better.

My breath picked up. Little gasps started slipping out. I pushed back into him, meeting each thrust. The slap of skin, the groans, the sight of us together — it was too much.

He leaned over me, breathing in my ear. “You feel so fucking good.”

“Harder,” I growled. “Harder. Don’t stop.”

The pressure was building. Low. Deep. Rising.

Then it hit. A full-body quake that ripped a long, loud moan out of me. My whole body clenched. I gasped and moaned and then—

“Oh my god,” he said. “Did you just—”

“I’m a squirter,” I panted. “I forgot to warn you.”

“No shit.”

He kept going. I told him to grab my hair. At first, he hesitated.

“Grab it,” I growled.

He did. Yanked it. Pulled me back and pounded harder. The bed creaked. The mirror shook. My body was a blur of motion and noise.

His other hand left my hip and I felt his thumb rubbing around my asshole. The rubbing turned to applying pressure to my brown starfish. 

"Spit on it," I muttered. 

He spit in the crack of my ass, his thumb sliding right in!

“I’m close,” he said, gritting his teeth.

“Not yet,” I panted. “Keep going.”

The second wave hit so hard. My arms gave out, and my face hit the bed as my body shook. Right then, he let go — he shot his load deep inside me again.

We collapsed. Panting. Sweaty. I was ruined.

“Holy… shit.”

He laughed, voice rough. “Best sex buddy ever.”