I never planned on fucking my brother. But once the fantasy took over, there was no stopping it. Jake and I had shared a house since our parents died, both of us over twenty-one and working shit jobs to keep the place. He was twenty-three, built like a linebacker with thick arms and a fat ass that filled out his jeans too well. I was twenty-five, leaner but hung, and every time he walked around in boxers I had to hide my hard-on.
One night after beers, the talk turned dirty. We were on the couch, lights low, and Jake admitted he'd jerked off thinking about guys. I laughed it off at first, but then he said it: "Ever wonder what it'd be like with family? Like, real close." My cock twitched. The fantasy hit hard—gay incest sex stories fantasies I'd read online suddenly felt too close to home.
I leaned in and grabbed his thigh. "You mean like us?" Jake didn't pull away. His hand landed on my crotch, squeezing my growing dick through my sweats. "Yeah, like us. I want to suck my brother's cock." No hesitation after that. I stood up, dropped my pants, and let my thick seven inches slap against my stomach. Jake got on his knees right there in the living room and swallowed me whole.
His mouth was hot and wet, tongue working the underside while he gagged on the head. I grabbed his hair and fucked his throat, balls slapping his chin. Spit ran down his neck. "That's it, little brother, choke on it," I growled. He moaned around my shaft, eyes watering, but he took every inch. When I pulled out, strings of saliva connected us.
We stripped fast. Jake bent over the arm of the couch, ass up, spreading his cheeks. His hole was pink and tight. I spit on it, rubbed my cockhead against the pucker, and pushed in raw. No lube, just spit and need. He grunted loud as I sank balls-deep into his ass. "Fuck, your brother's cock feels good stretching you open." I started pounding, hips slapping his cheeks, watching his hole grip me on every thrust.
Jake reached back and spread himself wider. "Harder, bro. Fuck your incest fantasy into me." I did. I slammed into him, one hand on his hip, the other reaching around to jerk his leaking dick. Precum dripped onto the couch. The room filled with the wet sounds of my cock wrecking his hole and his moans begging for more. I flipped him onto his back, legs over my shoulders, and drilled him missionary style. His face twisted in pleasure, mouth open, telling me how deep it felt.
I pulled out and fed him my cock again, making him taste his own ass. He sucked greedily, then I bent him over the kitchen table next. Different angle, deeper. I spread his cheeks and watched my dick disappear into his stretched ring. Sweat poured off us.
I slapped his ass red, called him my filthy brother slut, and he begged for it. "Cum in me," he panted. "Breed your brother's hole."
I unloaded deep inside him, pulse after pulse of hot cum flooding his guts. It leaked out around my shaft as I kept thrusting through the orgasm. Jake shot all over the table without touching himself, his cock twitching untouched. We stayed locked together, breathing hard, my cum dripping down his thighs.
After that night the fantasies became real. We fucked everywhere—shower, garage, even once in the backyard at night. Raw, dirty, no condoms, always calling each other brother while I pounded his ass or he rode me reverse. Sometimes he'd wake me up with his mouth on my morning wood, swallowing my load before breakfast. Other times I'd pin him face-down on the bed and wreck him until he couldn't walk straight.
The taboo made every thrust hotter. Knowing it was wrong only made us do it more. Jake's hole got used to taking my cock anytime, anywhere. I'd text him at work: "Coming home to fuck my brother's ass." He'd reply with a pic of his spread cheeks. We'd meet at the door already hard, clothes off in seconds, me balls-deep before we reached the bedroom.
It never got old. The dirtier the talk, the better the fuck. "Tell me how much you love your brother's dick in your ass," I'd demand while pounding him. He'd moan it back, begging for another load. We kept it secret, but the gay incest sex stories fantasies we used to read were nothing compared to the real thing we built together. Every night ended the same: me unloading inside him, him shooting from the feeling of being filled by family cock, both of us satisfied and already planning the next round.
