I never planned on sucking my own brother’s cock through a gloryhole, but that’s exactly what happened the night everything changed. I was twenty-three, horny as hell, and tired of jerking off alone in my apartment. The old adult bookstore on the edge of town had a back room with gloryholes, and I’d heard the stories. Guys lined up, anonymous mouths and dicks doing the work. I told myself I was just going to watch, maybe get my dick sucked if the vibe felt right.
The place smelled like cheap cleaner and cum. Dim red lights. I stepped into a narrow booth, locked the door, and fed a few bucks into the video machine. Straight porn flickered on the screen, but I wasn’t watching it. My eyes were on the hole cut into the wall at waist height. It was big enough for a thick cock to slide through, edges worn smooth from use.
I dropped my jeans and stroked myself slow, waiting. Footsteps outside. A pause. Then a thick, veiny cock pushed through the hole, already half-hard and leaking. I didn’t think. I dropped to my knees and took it in my mouth.
The taste hit me first—salt, skin, that sharp pre-cum flavor. I sucked hard, bobbing my head, tongue working the underside. Whoever was on the other side groaned low and pushed deeper. I took him to the back of my throat, gagging a little, spit running down my chin. My own dick throbbed untouched between my legs.
I worked him fast and sloppy, the way I liked it when I was the one getting sucked. He fucked my mouth in short thrusts, balls slapping the wall. I reached up and cupped them, rolling them in my palm while I sucked. He was big, maybe eight inches, curved just enough to hit my throat right. I swallowed around him and felt him twitch.
Then the voice came through the wall, low and rough. “Fuck, little brother, that mouth feels too good.”
I froze. My blood went cold, then hot. That was Mark’s voice. My older brother. The same voice that had called me a dumbass at family dinners for years. The cock in my mouth was my brother’s.
I should have pulled off. Instead I sucked harder, moaning around him. Mark didn’t know it was me yet. He just kept thrusting, telling me how good my throat felt, how he was going to flood my mouth. I reached down and jerked myself furiously, precum slicking my fist.
He came with a grunt, thick ropes shooting down my throat. I swallowed every drop, licking him clean until he pulled back. The hole went empty for a second. Then another cock slid through—mine this time, because I stood up and pushed my own dick through without thinking.
Mark didn’t hesitate. Wet heat surrounded me. His tongue was rougher than I expected, swirling around the head before he took me deep. I braced both hands on the wall and fucked his mouth, hips snapping. Every filthy sound echoed in the tiny booth. He gagged once, recovered, and took me to the root.
I came fast, shooting hard while my brother swallowed. When I pulled back, panting, the voice came again. “Your turn to get sucked, man. Or you want more?”
I leaned close to the hole. “Mark. It’s me. It’s Alex.”
Silence. Then a low, shaky laugh. “Fuck. Alex?”
“Yeah.”
The door to his booth rattled. A second later mine opened. Mark stood there, jeans open, cock still wet from my mouth, staring at me like he’d never seen me before. His face was flushed, eyes dark.
We didn’t talk. He grabbed my arm and hauled me into the bigger stall at the end of the hall. The gloryhole was still there, but now we could see each other. Mark shoved me against the wall and kissed me hard, tongue pushing into my mouth so I could taste my own cum on him. His hand wrapped around both our cocks, stroking us together.
“Been wanting this too long to stop now,” he growled against my lips. “Turn around.”
I braced on the wall. Mark spit on his fingers and worked two into my ass, stretching me open while I pushed back against him.
When he replaced his fingers with his cock, I groaned loud enough that someone in the next booth laughed. He fucked me slow at first, then harder, the wet slap of skin filling the room. Every thrust shoved me forward until my own cock rubbed against the gloryhole edge.
Someone on the other side reached through and started jerking me. I didn’t care who. Mark’s hand covered the stranger’s, both of them stroking me while he pounded my ass. I came again, shooting through the hole onto the floor. Mark followed right after, burying himself deep and filling me up.
We didn’t stop there. Mark pulled out, spun me around, and dropped to his knees. He sucked me clean while I watched another guy push his cock through the hole and Mark took that one too, right in front of me. I fed him my dick again while he serviced the stranger, switching back and forth until both of us were hard and leaking once more.
By the time we left the store, my legs were shaky and Mark’s cum was leaking down my thigh. We drove home in silence until he parked in the garage and killed the engine.
“Next weekend,” he said. “Same place. Same hole.”
I nodded. “Bring lube.”
He smirked. “Already planning on it, little brother.”
We didn’t tell anyone. We just kept going back. Sometimes we used the gloryhole like strangers. Sometimes we skipped the booths and fucked at home, loud and filthy, knowing exactly who we were. The first time he bent me over the kitchen table and took me raw, I came so hard I saw stars. The first time I rode him on the couch while our parents were out of town, he called me his cockslut and I begged for more.
It never got less wrong. It just got hotter. Every time his cock slid into my mouth or my ass, the taboo made it burn brighter. We were brothers. We were fucking. And neither of us planned to stop.
