We grew up sharing everything, but nothing like this.
My older brother Jake had always been the thick one, soft belly hanging over his belt, wide ass that jiggled when he walked, heavy tits that stretched his old T-shirts. At twenty-eight he was still living at home with me, twenty-five and skinny, both of us stuck after Dad died. One humid summer night the power went out and we sat on the couch drinking warm beer, shirts off, skin sticking together. Jake laughed about how fat he was getting and I told him I liked it. The words just slipped out.
He looked at me hard. “You like this gut, little brother?” He slapped it and the sound was meaty. My cock twitched in my shorts. I didn’t answer with words. I reached over and grabbed a handful of his belly, fingers sinking into warm flesh. Jake groaned low and pulled me closer so our bare chests touched. His nipples were fat and dark. I sucked one into my mouth and he grabbed the back of my head, grinding his crotch against my thigh. Already hard, thick cock straining his shorts.
“Fuck, we shouldn’t,” he muttered, but his hand was already down my pants, wrapping around my dick and stroking rough. I bit his nipple and he hissed. We shoved our shorts off right there on the couch. His cock was fat like the rest of him, veiny and leaking. Mine looked small next to it. I dropped to my knees between his spread thighs and took him in my mouth. He tasted salty and hot. Jake’s belly rested on my forehead while I sucked, gagging when he thrust up. Spit ran down my chin onto his balls.
He pulled me up, spun me around, and bent me over the arm of the couch. “You want your chubby brother’s dick, huh?” He spat on my hole and pushed two thick fingers in without warning. It burned good. I pushed back, begging for more. Jake lined up and sank his cock into me in one slow shove. We both moaned like animals. He fucked me hard, belly slapping my back with every thrust, his heavy balls swinging. The couch creaked. Sweat dripped off him onto my spine.
We didn’t stop there. He dragged me to his bedroom, the one that used to be ours when we were kids. He lay back on the bed, gut spread wide, and told me to ride him. I climbed on, sank down on that fat cock again, watching his belly shake while I bounced. He grabbed my hips and slammed up into me, calling me his little slut brother. I came all over his stomach without touching my dick. He kept fucking through it until he flooded my ass, hot cum leaking out around his shaft.
After that night we couldn’t get enough. Mornings I’d wake him up with my mouth on his cock while he was still half asleep, his morning wood thick and musky. Afternoons in the shower I’d soap up his heavy body, fingers sliding between his cheeks to tease his hole until he turned me around and fucked me against the tiles. Evenings we’d watch porn together on the couch, his hand in my pants, mine buried under his gut stroking him slow and dirty until we both came.
One weekend we didn’t leave the house. He had me on all fours on the kitchen floor, pounding me while I ate leftovers straight from the fridge. Later he sat in Dad’s old recliner and I knelt between his legs, licking his balls and taint while he called me names and fed me his cock again. He came on my face and I licked it off my lips, tasting him mixed with sweat.
The best was when he let me fuck him. He got on his back, thick legs spread, belly resting on his chest, and told me to put it in. His hole was tight and hot. I sank in slow, watching his face twist with pleasure and shame. I fucked him deep while I played with his tits, pinching the nipples until he shot all over himself without touching his dick. After that he wanted it every night, sometimes bent over the bathroom sink, sometimes on his stomach with me on top, my skinny body pressing into all that soft flesh.
We never talked about stopping. It just became normal. Jake would come home from work, strip down, and bend over the kitchen table. I’d eat his ass first, tongue deep in his hole while he moaned and pushed back. Then I’d fuck him until he was leaking my cum down his thighs. Other times he’d pin me face down on the bed and wreck my hole with that thick cock, growling about how his little brother was made to take his load.
Months later we still fuck every day. Sometimes slow and deep, him on top, belly smothering me while he kisses me messy and tells me I’m his. Sometimes rough and quick in the hallway before work. He’s gotten even thicker and I love it more. Every inch of his body is mine to grab, bite, fuck, and fill. We both know it’s wrong, but neither of us cares. When he’s balls deep in me or I’m buried in him, nothing else exists except skin, sweat, cum, and the filthy sounds we make together.
We’re brothers. We’re lovers. And we’re never going back.
