SUMMER 2019 | TAYLOR:

    Three months in, and I still couldn't quite believe I was now "Mrs. Owen Morris." In a way, we owed it all to Kyle's wedding last summer. After our foursome fuck with Kyle and his brother Jeremy, we all went back to the reception and ended up talking to the two grooms. Kyle and his newlywed husband assured us that even though they were espoused now, they had no intention of curbing their sexual adventurousness. We all knew gay couples who were getting married, many of them adopting kids and living in monogamy (or pretending to!) for the rest of their lives. But maybe that didn't have to be the case…

    Kyle's nuptial union seemed to put some ideas in my boyfriend's head. Owen started to mention "What if we got married?" every now and then, adding "We already live together." Then, last November, on my 27th birthday, he popped the question! It was two days after Thanksgiving and I'd just returned to New York, thrilled to be back in the city. I'd decided to celebrate my birthday at a gay club. It was the type of place where you could get away with sucking dick on the dance floor, which was precisely what Owen and I were engaged in. He was on his knees on the crowded floor, deepthroating my rod that was temporarily granted freedom from its cock cage. Enjoying its liberty, my tool felt as rigid as a baseball bat, hitting the palate of my hot boyfriend's mouth before sliding in deeper and hitting his uvula like a punching bag.

    I was flying high, stimulated by a few drinks and a small amount of coke I'd taken. I'd wanted to take more, but Owen insisted that I remain reasonably sober this early in the evening. I tried using the "birthday boy" card to get my way, but my partner was adamant. I loved him too much to hold it against him, though. On the dance floor, as I filled Owen's warm throat with pre-jizz, surrounded by hundreds of New York's sexiest men, I realized there was no one in this world I wanted more than him. Just then, my shirtless boyfriend pulled something out of his sock. At first I thought it was some drugs before I realized it came in a square box, which popped open to reveal an elegant, manly ring. 

    "Will you marry me?" Owen shouted on one knee, his words barely reaching my ears through the loud thumping music.

    "What?!" I shouted back. I'd heard his question but it took a moment for it to truly register. I guess that is why Owen wanted me sober for the beginning of the night.

    Holding my hard prick in one hand and the engagement ring in the other, Owen ceaselessly stroked my wet shaft while repeating the question. "Will you marry me?"

    "Are you serious?!" I exclaimed, before adding "YES!"

    My whole body was trembling; partly because of emotional excitement, but partly because my boyfriend's manual stimulation was bringing me close to an orgasm. Tradition required that upon hearing my "yes," Owen needed to slip the ring on my finger. However, he and I were never very traditional. The first thing Owen did next was take my meat in his mouth and suck it down to the hilt, making me explode and flood his gullet with my seed. While doing that, Owen skillfully took the ring out of the box and placed it on my finger. And just like that, my hot boyfriend became my hot fiancé.

    After swallowing all of my spooge, Owen got up off his knees and kissed me, giving me a taste of my own babies. A few men around us who were privy to our engagement clapped for us, but for the most part the affair went by unnoticed in the bustling club. That didn't make it any less special for me, however; I couldn't think of a more perfect proposal. 

—

    One thing I didn't share with Owen that night was that there were some problems with my family back home in Phoenixville. During Thanksgiving, we'd talked a lot about my father's health. Even though the worst seemed to be over, he still needed a couple of surgeries, and because of his shitty insurance it was eating up all of my parents' savings. To make this worse, my little brother Rory was about to graduate from college this year and he'd need help settling down somewhere. He seemed to have his sights set on New York, probably because he already knew the city somewhat from visiting me. 

    When I first moved to New York without a job my parents were my main sponsor, and they never asked me for any of that money back. Now, I felt responsible for helping Rory out on their behalf, even though I didn't have that much to offer. In the days and weeks after our engagement, Owen and I frequently discussed this. My fiancé – who'd grown up without any brothers and who had an excellent rapport with Rory so far – advocated for my younger brother to come crash on our couch until he got his shit together. I had reservations, especially about Owen's and my sex life while hosting a family member; but since there was still a while to go and nothing was for certain yet, I procrastinated and didn't think about the issue too much.

—

    Owen and I had a lovely but small spring wedding. We did it in Central Park – for us a token symbol of the city that'd brought us together. Only our families and closest friends were invited. Our nondenominational vow-exchange ceremony was watched by more tourists at the park than invited guests that day. Afterwards we took everyone to a fancy downtown restaurant, arranged by Mark – one of Owen's dad's best buds – who knew the owner. Being the center of attention for the day was flattering, but also exhausting. I felt better after retreating to the restroom with Owen midway through the reception, where my husband dumped a load up my ass for our first breeding as a married couple.​

—

    Before we knew it, it was summer again. My brother graduated and managed to land a job in New York before even moving here. Like it or not, the plan was for him to crash with us for a while until he got his first few paychecks and was able to afford rent and a security deposit.

    In the meanwhile, I'd managed to lose my office job so I was currently bartending as a way to make some money while looking for more permanent work. My job hunt was going slower than I'd have wanted, but at least the bartending gig was easy to get since we knew the owner on the gay bar, located just a few minutes away from our place.

    After Rory's first full day as a resident of New York, I had to get ready for work. I headed to the bar by myself, expecting for Owen and Rory to join me a few hours later. I took my shirt off as soon as I got behind the bar as it was something that instantly quadrupled my tips. Patrons flirted with me, some of them rubbing my abs and others giving my nips a playful pinch. I didn't mind – in most cases I savored it – but I was aware that soon my straight brother would be here, witnessing all this and having to wrap his mind around the fact that this is what his older sibling does for a living now. Rory was an openminded kid, however. I'd already explained my padlocked neck chain to him, getting into the more "unconventional" aspects of my relationship with my dominant husband. My brother barely blinked an eye after hearing the story, and offered me his full support. Compared to that, I was sure that a job as a shirtless bartender wouldn't really faze him. 

    My brother and my husband showed up at the bar just as the crowd was reaching capacity. I served them a couple of gin and tonics and watched with envy as they enjoyed themselves, while I had to go back to work. At least most of the clientele was generous tonight, stuffing tips in my pants and making my brother smile when he noticed that. 

    As my shift neared its end, I dared to have a couple of drinks. I was off an hour before closing time. The crowd was less dense by now and the two remaining bartenders were able to cater to it on their own. As soon as I was off the clock, I poured three shots to share with my brother and my husband, hoping to catch up to them since I was the only one sober.

    Feeling tipsy, the three of us danced, talked, and giggled together. I still had my shirt off, and my randy husband slipped his hand in the back of my unbelted, low-rise jeans, squeezing my ass all while talking to my little brother. If Rory noticed anything, he didn't mention it. I continued to act nonchalant, standing closer to Owen in an effort to conceal our little sexy act. 

    It wasn't easy carrying on a normal conversation with somebody's hand on my asscheek and making its way to my crack. While Rory described all the things he did earlier in the day to me, my shit-stirring husband reached my asshole and started playing with it. I was speaking to Rory, giving him tips on places he should check out, just as Owen's digit slid inside my pucker slowly. I looked at my hole-teasing husband's face to see a huge grin on it. That fucker knew just what he was doing! I tried maintaining a normal tone of voice, addressing my little brother all the while receiving a finger-fucking from Owen. His finger was lubricated by my ass sweat, of which there was plenty after several hours of working on my feet. I felt my ass lips opening up, swallowing my lover's thick index finger hungrily. Owen dug deep until he was inside of me down to his knuckle, bending his finger like a hook and rotating it around my cavern. His centrifugal motions made my knees buckle and I almost dropped the drink I was holding, all the while making eye contact with my oblivious little brother, who could probably see it in my eyes that something weird was going on.

    Thankfully, just then a stranger walked up to Rory in an effort to chat him up. My long-haired baby brother was gorgeous, and I couldn't fault anyone for shooting their shot with him. Plus, it gave Owen and me a chance to talk amongst ourselves for a brief moment.

    "You like having your pussy fingered right in front of your brother?" my husband growled in my ear.

    "Yes, Daddy," I nodded, loosening my horny hole even wider and allowing Owen's middle finger to slip inside of me as well. My locked cock pulsed in its prison, desperately leaking precum. Some people around us had noticed what we were doing and they were giving us conspiratorial winks and encouraging thumbs up. No one was surprised, as pretty much all of the regulars here knew my husband and me to be bona fide horndogs. Still, I wished people would stop drawing attention to us in front of my brother, who was busy politely declining the stranger's advances. 

    Soon, we had no choice but to leave the bar anyway. As much as I enjoyed Owen's fingers inside of me, there was one part of his body my hole was even more interested in. The three of us made our way home, leaving Rory's admirer disappointed. The short walk to the apartment took five times longer than usual, since Owen and I couldn't keep our hands (and lips) off each other. Walking alongside my brother, I dared to squeeze my husband's crotch a few times, teasing the half-hard monster that resided there.

    At home, one of the first things I did was doff my clothes and jump in the shower. I was all for some man sweat, but not to the point where it started to feel sticky. I washed my body, only to be joined in the shower moments later by a horny Owen, immediately attacking and conquering my mouth with his violent tongue.

    I gave in, like I always did to him. We were both too horny and too tipsy to care. I didn't even bother closing the shower curtain which Owen left open, even though the bathroom door was also ajar and my little brother just on the other side of it.

    My husband and I made out passionately, four hands roaming all over each other's wet, naked bodies. Sliding down Owen's amazing muscles admiringly, I wondered what I did to deserve this stud, who'd vowed to spend the rest of his life with me. With my fingertips in the large middle ridge of his six pack, I carried on down until I was touching Owen's shaved pubic region. Right underneath it, the monster was now fully awake. 

    I wrapped my fingers around my husband's stalk, squeezing it for dear life. Even with the water raining on us, I could still make out the clear drops of precum that Owen was producing, oozing out of his piss slit and making their way down his vein-ridged shaft and onto my fingers. In the meantime, Owen and I played with each other's nipples, teasing as many parts of one another's bodies as we could in our state of arousal.

    That a sex beast resided inside of Owen was something I knew all too well. I could only tease him for so long before the beast took over. Suddenly, Owen grabbed my upper arms, squeezing them tightly enough to leave pink marks on them, and he aggressively turned me over so quickly that if he wasn't holding onto me I would've slipped in the shower.

    "Aaah," I moaned quietly with my cheek against the tiled wall, poking my ass out and feeling the sensation of Owen's fingers invading it once again. He checked my dilation with two, three, then four digits, ramming them inside of me and turning them over to make sure I was ready for something as imposing as the prod between his legs. Feeling satisfied with my hole, he lunged inside of it, claiming it as his own. 

    "Aaah!" I yelled out, unable to keep my voice down anymore regardless of Rory's presence. I surrendered and allowed Owen to do with me all he pleased. With his dick up my ravenous ass, I finally felt complete. I closed my eyes, enjoying the moment and disconnecting from the rest of the world. That continued even when, a couple of minutes later, I heard my brother's voice coming from the bathroom. 

    "Don't mind me," Rory said. "Gotta brush my teeth."

    He was talking to Owen and me, unbothered by the fact we were fucking in the shower. Since moving in yesterday, he'd mentioned several times that we should just go on with our lives as if he weren't here. Now I realized just how literally he meant it.

    The best thing about being in a relationship with a more dominant partner like Owen was that I didn't have to make decisions all the time. Now, it wasn't up to me whether we cover up, tell Rory we're sorry, and retreat to the privacy of our bedroom. It was up to Owen. And my brother sure didn't seem to have a problem with it. I could make out the sounds of Rory picking up his toothbrush and brushing his teeth. No matter what, I knew that he couldn't ignore us: if he turned one way he'd be facing the shower, if he turned the other he'd be looking at our reflection in the mirror over the sink.

    Owen's decision wasn't to pull out, but to go harder and faster, showing my brother just how much my hole could take. It was as if my husband was proud of my prowess as a bottom and wanted to show it off to the world, and that included my younger sibling. And instead of making a big deal out of it, Owen just continued as if this were the most normal situation for two brothers to find themselves in.

    "You got any plans for tomorrow?" Owen asked Rory, still thrusting back and forth inside my pussy without a break.

    "Not really," was my brother's response, and I could tell he had his mouth full of toothpaste. I still kept my eyes shut, but now, instead of helping me disconnect from reality around me, it made me feel it even more intensely. "Just hang out again. Not much to do," Rory continued. 

    "Why don't you drop by the gym? I can get you a free month if you want," Owen offered. He'd personally trained me to reach my own full potential, not just in terms of muscles, but more importantly: as a hole that is here for his pleasure. 

    I heard my brother spitting in the sink and rinsing his mouth before asking, "Really? That'd be really cool."

    "Yeah, no problem, man," Owen casually replied just as his bulbous cockhead made contact with my prostate, tapping it awake. I bit my lower lip so as not to scream out in pleasure in front of my family member. "I'll text you the address. If you drop by between 9 and 10, I can get you settled and show you around."

    "Thanks bro, appreciate it. See you guys tomorrow. Good night," my brother addressed both of us. Now that he'd spoken to me, I finally opened my eyes and turned my head as much as I could. Rory and I made intense eye contact that didn't last longer than two seconds, but so much happened in that short time.

    "Night," I said to my baby brother, watching as he headed out of the bathroom. While Rory and I looked at each other's eyes, my husband's stiff prick kept jabbing at my prostate, making my sphincter flex around his cock. With my G spot tickled, I started to spew cum out of my soft dick, releasing it through the confines of the barred metal cage. I wasn't sure if my brother was able to tell, or if he got to see my babies going down the drain, but the smirk on Rory's lip would leave me wondering.

    As soon as my brother was out of the bathroom, my husband treated me to a proper breeding. "Aaah! Aaaaah! AAAAH!!" his yells escalated as he filled up my cunt with his spunk. Like giving a baby milk before bedtime, Owen gave me just what I needed to go to bed feeling full and content that night; a night that would change my relationship with my brother for the rest of my life.

​

This scene from Rory's perspective in

My Brother and His Husband, Chapter 2: "Shower"​