The heat in the Lahore house was thick that summer, sticking to skin like the sweat rolling down my back.
My younger brother Imran and I had the upstairs room to ourselves while the rest of the family slept downstairs. At twenty-five and twenty-three, we were both grown men who knew better, but knowing never stopped the hunger that had been building for years.
I woke first, hard as always, my cock straining against the thin shalwar. Imran lay on his stomach beside me, ass up slightly from the way he slept, the fabric stretched tight over those round cheeks. I reached over without thinking and squeezed one, feeling the firm muscle give under my fingers. He stirred but didn't pull away.
"Bhai," he muttered, voice low and rough from sleep. "Again?"
"Shut up and spread," I said, voice already thick with need. I yanked his shalwar down in one move, exposing smooth brown skin and the tight hole I'd claimed so many times before. No lube this time. I spat on my fingers and pushed two inside him fast, stretching that ring while he grunted into the pillow.
Imran pushed back on my hand, his own cock already leaking onto the sheets. "Fuck me like you mean it. Don't be gentle."
I pulled my fingers out, lined up my thick cock, and drove straight in. The heat of his ass swallowed me to the balls in one thrust. He hissed but rocked back, taking every inch. I gripped his hips hard enough to bruise and started pounding, the bed creaking under us. Skin slapped skin, wet and filthy. Every stroke dragged across his prostate and made him moan louder into the mattress.
"Take it, you dirty fuck," I growled, leaning over him so my chest pressed to his back. "This hole is mine. Always has been."
Imran reached down and jerked his own cock in time with my thrusts. "Harder, bhai. Fuck your brother like you hate me."
I gave him what he wanted, slamming in deep and fast until sweat dripped from my chest onto his spine. The smell of sex filled the room, musky and raw. When I felt his ass clench around me I knew he was close. I reached under and squeezed his balls, tugging just enough to push him over. He came with a muffled shout, shooting ropes across the bed while his hole pulsed around my cock.
I didn't stop. I fucked him through it until my own orgasm hit, flooding his guts with thick cum. I stayed buried deep, grinding the last drops inside him before pulling out slow. A string of my load followed, dripping down his thigh.
We lay there panting. Imran rolled onto his back, cock still half-hard, a lazy grin on his face. "Your turn to get fucked tonight."
I nodded, already imagining his dick stretching me open later while the house stayed quiet. The taboo only made it hotter. We were brothers, and we both knew we weren't stopping. Not ever.
