Author: indieerotica

My Immature Brother Grows Up

Home from college for the summer, Brett plans to spend extra time with his younger brother, Robby. Though only a year separates them, Robby has always been immature and rebellious, but both brothers have a deep love for each other.

It’s that brotherly bond that makes Brett the ideal person to keep an eye on Robby, for it’s only Brett that can tame Robby’s unpredictable ways. This is because Robby looks up to Brett with such high regard and loves him.

But that brotherly love that bonds them runs deeper than it should. While Brett feels guilty and dirty for harboring erotic thoughts of his younger brother, he’s more than relieved when he discovers Robby feels the same way about him, even if he’s determined to never act on it.

But with their parents out of the house for the night, despite how much Brett wants to hold back, Robby makes the first move…

My Immature Brother Grows Up is a 3,800-word short story.

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I took off my T-shirt and tossed it on the floor. I grabbed the pillow and laid it on the center of the small bed. I pushed my shorts down to my knees, and I climbed on top of the pillow and started humping it. I didn’t care if the pillowcase was crusty from the previous time today. It was why I always brought my own so that Mom wouldn’t question anything when doing laundry.

Robby came to mind again, as he often did whenever I bated. It was part of my recent self-discovery: I was officially a gay freak. It had started with me reading free boy/boy stories online, albeit poorly written by anonymous amateurs who were questionably too young to write that stuff. Along came brocest stories that turned me on even more. Finally, loads of gay porn vids featuring jocks of all sizes. I had never been interested in anyone older than twenty-five, much less felt attraction.

When I used to shower in the boys’ locker room back in high school, it was extra torturous because it got me horny every time. I didn’t have a big dick, about average, so it made me feel too shy to expose myself in front of others.

But was I cute enough for other guys? I had short, brown hair and blue eyes, and I was told I had a nice smile. Even a few girls had already expressed interest in me, not that I would ever want them.

Still humping, Robby wouldn’t leave my mind now, making me hornier and leakier, enough to desire the incestuous company I wished existed between us. What was it like to have a bate buddy? Was it more fun than doing it alone? Of course, I’d never lay a finger on Robby without his permission, but if he ever wanted to mess around, I’d be all for it.

A naked Robby appeared in my head: cute and sweet. He frolicked around while I admired the beauty he probably didn’t know he had. What was it like to touch him? What was it like to gaze into his eyes and play with his hair with so much fondness? What was it like to lean closer and give him a deep kiss? I’d keep him safe in my arms, away from the danger he could get himself into if he wasn’t careful. His warm body bundled up against me without any clothes in the way was what I really ached for.

My own brother…

My flesh and blood…

Whose DNA I shared…


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No More Safe Words (The Berlin Underground #4)

Peter and Lukas are forcibly brought before the Antinous Society for a final, harsh test by master Richard. But far from a final round, the boys are just beginning their journey into the depravity of the secret society's initiation. An abandoned hospital in the Berlin woods will be the venue where men must hunt, or be hunted. In this fight for dominance and survival, there will be no more safe words.

No More Safe Words is a 15,000 word short story.

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The door slammed closed. I did not touch it.

Even the green bulbs of our watches did nothing to change the absence of light. There was a black hole sucking it all up. The faintest drops from under cuffs and coats escaped, dabbing only the occasional outline of a hand, a bed frame, a naked back, to prove this was not the void. I listened for breaths, there were many. Some rapid and heavy, others smooth, relaxed. A sound like water gurgling through a blocked pipe picked up. A dick was being sucked, deep-throated, from a different corner of the room where the bed began to squeak again.

I was conscious of what happened in the bathroom. This place was either fuck or be fucked, and I didn’t care to lose my only point. I stepped forward blindly, hands out, hoping to not trip over anyone already on their knees. It was my leg that stopped me. My shin hit the bedframe and I bit my lip instead of breaking the silence with a curse. Body heat was near. My eyes kept adjusting, suggesting lines of muscles moving, sliding, fucking.

The heat rose like in a sauna when water is cast over the rocks. Sweat buffeted my tastebuds, the scent of bare skin was near. I edged forward as the slurping from the other side of the room became a gurgled choke. I reached out a hand into the unknown and touched a body. Impossible to know if he was standing up or lying down. Knee or shoulder, I couldn’t tell, but I kept tracing the invisible lines, making my way down to a leg or an arm. An elbow. His wrist. The watch tucked under a thick sweatshirt. He was standing, but moving. His bottom half sliding in and out of another creature I didn’t dare reach out to touch but assumed was there.

I crept behind this other top, catching the beat of his breath in the menagerie of this busy, cramped dark room. I touched bare ass. Round, hairy, filmed with light sweat. Low balls swung like a pendulum, out of the man he was fucking and into my hand. I was now fully behind him, his furry ass cheeks stealing the chill from both my hands. I reached around slowly, gently grasping the thickness of his cock as it slid in and out of another body. Hairs from the unknown tingled against my hand. It could have been a beard or an ass, I would never know.

The top kept me in place behind him. He angled his bare ass deeper into the nook of my crotch and gently returned my hand to the tightly trimmed base of his cock. I hoped we were communicating that I was next for a turn on this hole. To seal the deal I loosened my trousers, shuffling them down to just beneath the hip, letting my cock grow hard against his ass cheek. That’s when he let out a groan. It spiked the room, unusual in the enforced silence, as if the location of this secret place should never be shared. If he’d came, he kept on going. Not dropping a beat.

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Big Brother’s Little Caregiver

Born from a family whose attractive genes didn't quite pass onto him, Alvyn often feels like the odd ugly duckling. It doesn't help that he's short and thin with pointed ears, a pointy face, and erect eyebrows, like the little elf his mean mother often calls him.

At eighteen, Alvyn is on the verge of learning new things in life that his mother neglected to teach him. He doesn't even know about the personal pleasures of one's body, let alone what masturbation even means. His father is already out of the picture, never showing an interest in any sort of connection.

Alvyn still has one huge supporter in his life: Hans, his big brother. They don't just love each other like real family, but they're there for one another through thick and thin. While Hans gives Alvyn all the love and attention he needs, Alvyn looks after him as his little caregiver because of an accident that left Hans confined to a wheelchair.

Alvyn finally takes caregiving to a whole new level when he unintentionally wakes something up in Hans while giving him a bath. And that's just the beginning of the kind of brotherhood they never knew they could have.

Bringing them even closer than ever.

Big Brother's Little Caregiver is a 6,900-word short story.

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“I’m ready, Alvyn,” Hans said in a slight German accent.

I pushed Hans on his wheelchair into the spacious bathroom. He was able to walk a bit since he’d been slowly improving after the accident, but it still hurt him. So, we saved the bit of walking he did do for minor stuff that required short steps, like bath time. I pulled off his yellow T-shirt that smelled like body odor. As usual, I struggled but managed to take off his gray jogging pants and blue boxers. The white gym socks were easy, albeit just as smelly.

I made a scrunchy face, especially because of the funk that mostly came from his big penis. I only knew what it was called because he’d secretly told me earlier this summer, since Mama wanted to keep sheltering me like a little kid even at eighteen. She made sure I wouldn’t learn any adult stuff online. Many kids my age had already known about stuff from the internet, making me feel completely left out. Mama had even opted me out of health class. So, I had to learn things on my own in the most limited way. I didn’t know a whole lot, but that was partly why I liked Hans so much. He was able to teach me stuff to prepare for whatever adulthood had in store for me, especially since college was practically around the corner.

He sighed. “Sorry, Alvyn, Mama forgot to bathe me yesterday.”

I frowned. “Why?” Ugh, my voice was a little squeaky at times, and just weird. Hans told me it meant I was going through a delayed puberty, much later than most boys because of my slower development. It was yet another thing Mama never talked to me about.

“Because she’s too busy living her own life, always spending my money at the mall with her friends, clubbing and partying, things like that.”

“Oh.” I knew Hans had a lot of money saved up from an inheritance on Papa’s side of the family, but I didn’t know Mama always spent it since she worked as a secretary for some office in the big city. No wonder she liked to shop a lot. Our big farmhouse out in the country had modern stuff inside, way nicer than the tiny mobile home we used to live in. Well, Papa still lived there as a recluse, probably still smoking and drinking beer with the teen girl he’d cheated on Mama with. That girl always called him Daddy. Why?

After filling up the bathtub, I helped Hans off the wheelchair. I wished I had a body like his. He used to go to the gym before the accident, but he still did minimal exercises whenever he could. He was smooth everywhere too. Well, he had a thick, brown bush, unlike my blond fuzz that barely grew down there.

It was a struggle to get Hans inside the tub, especially because his hands were bandage-wrapped and sore, but I did it. Then, I grabbed the small bucket and poured water over his body while he relaxed.

“Thanks for doing this, Alvyn, even though you don’t have to.”

“But I want to, Hans. You’re my big brother, and I care about you. And it’s not like I haven’t done it before. Besides, you’re kind of stinky, so you need a bath.”

We laughed.

He sighed. “You’re always so good to me.”

My heart tickled and felt melty. I gave him a wide smile.

“Make sure you use the rag when you clean my butt, okay? Not the sponge.”

I nodded. “I know.” After all, he couldn’t do certain things well on his own. “So, why doesn’t Mama remember to bathe you every day?”

Hans sighed. “I annoy her with my presence. She just, you know, finds me to be a pest in the way of her ‘fun life’ as she puts it. She works hard and wants to unwind, I guess.”

“Oh.” I grabbed the bottle of bodywash and the mesh sponge. “Can I take care of you full-time from now on?”

Hans gave me a happy smile. “As much as I’d love that, you’re starting school again soon. You’ll be real busy.”

“So? I can make time for you too. I’m homeschooled, remember? And homework is usually easy, anyway. I always get it done fast.”

“I know. That’s because you’re smart.”

My heart tickled again, and I made another wide smile. I washed every part of Hans’ body with the sponge, using the rag for his butt and then washing that too (for obvious reasons). But this time, I decided to wash his penis more than before since he’d told me the other times I didn’t have to do it too much. Maybe that was why it smelled bad? Maybe it needed better washing?

I wrapped my small hand around Hans’ penis and lathered it up with soap, the water gently splashing against my fist. Would mine keep growing now that I wasn’t a kid anymore? It was bigger than it used to be, but it still wasn’t big like his.

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Two Become Three (Real Brotherly Loving #2)

Still on Spring Break, Carlo continues to see his eighteen-year-old twin brothers, Marco and Paolo, in a different light. He not only knows they mess around together, but he wonders if they'll be doing it every chance they get, especially while he's home for the week. College life and losing interest in his girlfriend are hard enough, so his changing relationship with the twins only adds more to his loaded plate.

That doesn't mean Carlo doesn't want to explore this taboo facet of a lifelong brotherhood. On the contrary, he is more intrigued than ever, horny for his share of forbidden brotherly fun.

The parents are conveniently out shopping for Carlo's twenty-first birthday party. After looking around for Marco and Paolo, who could be anywhere in the house, he manages to find them in the last place he expected. This special place is where his life is about to change forever.

In the most intimate way that three curious brothers could ever experience.

Two Become Three is a 7,600-word short story.

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As soon as I joined the others to eat, they melodically belted out, “Happy birthday to you… Happy birthday to you… Happy birthday, dear Carlo… Happy birthday to you!” Then, a small round of applause.

I felt like I was so red in the face now that the attention had completely shifted to me before I could prepare for it, all for everyone to witness every single reaction coming from me until the focus waned.

Mom gave me a warm smile, then got up to hug me so tightly that I immediately felt the love she had for me. She gave me several dramatic smooches on my head and then softened again. “I love you.” Then, she sat back down and continued eating with the others.

But would Mom love the real me? Or rather, the me I’d been discovering that might not be real just yet but most likely could be—or was? Maybe I needed to calm down and eat my birthday breakfast.

While eating, we had the usual conversations about various topics. I was relieved that the brief mention of political news didn’t go much anywhere since my family was conservative and I was…somewhere on the spectrum these days, not sure anymore. All I knew was that I was less uptight about different types of people after my foreign experiences in a diverse university. Either way, I tended to avoid that stuff. Each to their own.

Marco and Paolo were mostly quiet, talking here and there as if nothing had happened between them last night. They obviously had to be discreet, but Mom and Dad never suspected a thing. Why would they?

I managed a little smile, barely looking at anyone while eating my meal. When I briefly glanced at Marco and Paolo for the millionth time, they looked back for a split second before moving elsewhere. What was it about these two that made me feel stuff I shouldn’t be feeling? For the past few years, I had tried my hardest to block any of such thoughts, only for them to barge inside in full force ever since I’d flown back home for Spring Break. Seeing the twins in a whole new light had changed me forever. There was no turning back; it was too late.

But their naked bodies…just one touch…a taste…

Both brothers… Can I do stuff with you guys…?

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Real Brotherly Loving

Carlo finally comes home from college for Spring Break, eager to see his twin brothers, Marco and Paolo, and reconnect with them.

But things at home are suddenly not the same anymore. For starters, the twins have grown closer during Carlo’s time in college, after a lifetime of fights dividing the twins. Then, there’s the fact that his mom renovated Carlo’s old bedroom, converting it into a work room for her at-home business.

Carlo soon learns a secret—why Marco and Paolo get along so well. They’ve grown closer than brothers should be. And with Carlo’s old bedroom out of commission, he’s forced to shack up with the twins…and secretly witness up close just what kind of real brotherly loving Marco and Paolo actually have.

Could there be room for one more?

Real Brotherly Loving is a 5,200-word short story.

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I quietly went upstairs to Marco and Paolo’s room. The anxiousness took over me, leaving a grin on my face. The central heater was on, so they wouldn’t hear my creaking steps. I tiptoed down the short, squared hallway and stopped at the door on the right, which was cracked open. Their room and mine were the only two upstairs, along with a full bathroom in between that only the three of us used. Mom and Dad had the master bedroom downstairs with their own spa-like bathroom.

I reached the door and peered through the crack. My eyes widened. Boy, oh, boy! Marco stood behind Paolo against a new king-size bed I’d never seen before. They were naked, their clothes on the wood floor.

The central heater turned off, and their heavy breathing was now the only sound.

I fought hard to control my own breaths because of how silent it suddenly was in the whole house. Why were they doing this? When had this been going on? We were family, known by everyone as the Campo brothers because of how much we stood out in a WASP town. We shared the same DNA. We had been raised Catholic and didn’t even believe in cussing, let alone fornication. This was wrong!

Marco rubbed himself in between Paolo’s small, round buns. Both released the horniest breaths I’d ever heard from them. Paolo’s hands were on the edge of the bed while Marco had his arms hanging down, their brown eyes full of lust. It might have been humping, but it was still forbidden.

Yet the more I watched, the bigger the bulge in my jeans grew.

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A Brotherly Valentine

Eighteen-year-old Adam plans to lose his virginity on Valentine's Day.

His anonymous hookup, V, is a fellow virgin who sounds like the perfect match, even though he has no idea what he looks like. The thing that makes them both compatible? They have forbidden feelings for their brothers.

With the big day here and the house to himself, V comes over. While he’ll never live up to the perfection that is Aaron, Adam’s twin brother, this is still destined to be a hot encounter.

But what starts as hot soon turns scorching as V reveals himself and Adam’s hookup turns into the biggest, sweetest, and sexiest surprise of his life.

And a taboo one that no one can ever know about.

A Brotherly Valentine is a 6,200-word short story.

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The moonlight shone through the only window in my room, but it wasn’t enough to make out a face or body, more like a silhouette. The only sound in this big house was my portable heater nearby, my protection against the subzero temperature outside as the snow continued to pile.

Naked with just black gym socks on, I relaxed on my small bed and waited for V, my mysterious Valentine hookup to coincide with the famous love day of the calendar year. It was the perfect day to lose our virginities on, even if there wouldn’t be any romance involved like I would have preferred. But if that was the case, why had V insisted on me decorating the dining table with Valentine’s Day stuff? Wasn’t a hookup supposed to be just that…a hookup?

Thankfully, V and I had no problem with refusing to show our faces or give each other our real names. I went by A for Adam, and I assumed V was his initial. We’d met on Hawt Brothr, a social app for men and women with a brother fetish. We’d chatted for two weeks before finally agreeing to hook up, and only he got to see a pic of my chest, while I hadn’t gotten to see any pic of him.

We were both deep inside the closet, so we had to be careful. I knew for a fact that my parents—especially Dad—would kick me out of the house. I mean, it’d be legal for them to do it since it was technically their house, and therefore, their rules, and I was now eighteen. We lived in a small conservative town in northern America, so, yeah. It just wasn’t worth taking that risk. Given that V was around my age, it was probably the same for him.

It was why I had waited until Mom and Dad left for the weekend, something they often did because of their love for traveling. They had a comfy RV, so why not? My twin brother, Aaron, had gone with them as the perfect distraction to what would’ve been a day to celebrate with his ex-girlfriend, and Mom and Dad had promised not to make the holiday a big deal for his sake. I just hoped his heart would heal soon; his ex had recently broken up with him for a “better” guy.

Pfft, better. Yeah, whatever. Aaron was amazing, and his ex was too blind to see it. I mean, I would know. We hadn’t just grown up together; we were very close as identical twins. Not only did we share the same birthday, but we had plenty of similar interests because we could relate more. As a result, we were inseparable and told each other almost everything. The exception to the latter? My sexuality, and it was only because I feared losing him forever.

What I’d give just to have Aaron all to myself, though. Who cared if I was considered a sick person by our society for being in love and in lust with my own brother? So was V! No wonder we had connected so well—a bit too naturally, in fact.

So, what did V look like? There was a strong chance I’d never see his face even after we had sex tonight. I was tall, athletic, and smooth with a nice bubble butt, and I had reddish-brown hair and greenish-brown eyes. Aaron obviously looked just like me, so aside from our different personalities, we had the same luck just by our looks alone. The only reason I hadn’t gotten laid yet like he had was because being gay around here was hard enough.

Meeting V, who happened to live nearby, was practically a jackpot. But was V attractive enough to mess around with? Not that I would even see his face, but his body at least? He had promised I’d like the way he looked, so I was hopeful. I knew I couldn’t be too picky, given my inconvenient location, but come on now. I do have limits.

The sound of the front door opening sped up my heartbeat with a nervous kind of excitement. V was here, and it now sounded like he was taking off his coat and snow boots. He would enter my room in just seconds. I had left the door open so that I could wait for him in bed and have him take advantage of me. Besides, with it being safe out here in the country, no one locked their front doors.

I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I had tried meeting two other hookups recently but chickened out. Tonight, I promised not to do that. Third time’s a charm, right? Maybe?

Now, I was fully hard, leaking more than I’d realized for being nervous. The mystery was kind of a turn on, but I did pray that V had a decent body at the very least. Even if he turned out to be unattractive in the face, my moonlit room would practically be a bag-over-the-head convenience to make sex more tolerable. Then again, what was sex even like?

My door opened all the way since it hadn’t been completely shut. And there he was, V’s silhouette that confirmed he had a hot body like mine—kind of similar, actually. I furrowed my eyebrows. Wait a minute! I’d forgotten to tell him where my room was! How had he found it with no problem?

“You’re a naughty little thing,” a familiar deep voice said, startling me.

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My Virgin Butt for My Big Brother

Eighteen-year-old Mikey loves his big brother Kev…more than most brothers love each other. They’ve grown so close, romantically close, sexually close. They’ve committed to each other. But they have to keep this love a secret forever because their love is forbidden, no matter how perfect it is.

Tonight is a special night. Mikey wants to give Kev something he’s never been able to do before…but now he’s finally ready. With Kev being a total top, Mikey is left to be the bottom, and tonight he wants to go for it. He’ll give up his virgin butt as a way to strengthen their brotherly bond even more, to help them become one.

But no amount of willingness on Mikey’s part makes up for just how big Kev is.

Can Mikey be a good little brother and take it like a champ?

My Virgin Butt for My Big Brother is a 1,700-word short story.

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Up on the wide balcony, Kev and I were on the cushioned lounge chair, naked except for our white gym socks on and our boxers on the wooden floor. The summer night breeze cooled our damp skin, feeling more comfortable for me than what we were doing right now. It was special, though, and I promised myself I’d take it like a champ just to have this meaningful milestone.

I grunted from the pain, feeling full inside. Finally, Kev was all the way in as soon as my small bubble butt rested against his beefy lap. The few hairs on his inner thighs tickled my smooth cheeks. His hot, scruffy face looked bluish from the moonlight shining above. All I needed for reassurance was to keep gazing into his soft, brown eyes that locked with my similar brown ones, like being lent a big hand to climb up a mountain.

I was spoiled with so much brotherly affection, but it was more than just that. We loved each other like brothers weren’t supposed to, a forbidden love. But our hearts and bodies were too blind to see it any other way. Why did it have to be considered so taboo? Kev was nineteen in college, and I was eighteen in high school. We were consenting adults who knew exactly what we wanted. So, really, why was it wrong when it felt right to us?

Thus, here we were in secret, playing with fire because our nosy neighbors could easily peek through their windows, even though no one was usually up this late at night. Our two little sisters were deep asleep in our shared bedroom right next to us, a bunk bed for them and a bunk bed for us bros. We lived in a crowded three-bedroom house in the suburbs, with our grandparents taking the third room.

“You okay, Mikey?” Kev whispered, playing with my finger-length hair that was as brown as his army cut. As my big brother, he was always considerate of my feelings because of his protective nature he’d inherited from Dad, in contrast to my occasional meekness from Mom. We were a traditional family, even though the two sons of the bunch were doing untraditional things.

I gave Kev a quick nod and a tight smile. “Does it always hurt like this?”

“I don’t know. I’ve, you know, never bottomed before, obviously.” His cheeks flushed a bit from even mentioning that concept.

“Not like I have either until now.”

He frowned. “You’re not enjoying this, huh?”

“I want to, Kev, I do! I swear I’m trying to because I don’t want you out of me just yet. I know I can take it.” Could I? Of course! We were making love, and this was a huge part of it that would happen from now on.

A warm smile of emotions spanned Kev’s full lips. “I can’t believe it. You’re actually giving me your virginity, Mikey. Means more to me than you know.”

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Christmas Day with the Virgin Butt (Son Makes Three #3)

Otto and his dad, Wolf, have been in a monogamous and emotional marriage for years, just the two of them. All of that changed on a hot summer night six months ago when Otto’s son, Delfin, turned eighteen and wanted to join his father and grandfather in their special bond.

It started with Delfin’s first kiss, then his first mutual masturbation, and finally his first oral experience. But the more this hot twink loses innocence, the more he wants it.

Now it’s Christmas Day and Delfin is ready for the ultimate experience: to lose his anal virginity.

And there are only two men in his life that he wants to share it with.

Christmas Day with the Virgin Butt is a 4,500-word short story.

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“When can we…open the presents?” Delfin said in his youthful voice, looking at me and Dad.

I gazed at my beautiful boy as I lay on his left side. He looked just like his estranged Brazilian mom: honey-tan skin, honey-colored eyes, and thick hair so beautifully black that it shone like silk. Despite being mixed with German from Dad’s side and French from Mom’s, he looked more Latino.

“We’ll open them soon, don’t worry,” Dad said in his German accent, brushing Delfin’s hair with his knuckles. He’d been more affectionate with him than ever before, like the two of them had grown closer than I’d realized. Honestly, I was glad, and it was beautiful to watch.

I remembered coming home very early from work a few weeks ago, and the two of them had been in our bedroom with the door closed, making noises like they’d been lifting something heavy. Flustered, Dad had demanded that I didn’t go in and that I wait instead. Apparently, it’d been my Christmas gift, which I’d open soon enough. How sweet that they’d wanted to surprise me. They’d insisted on showering right after, and we’d spent the rest of the day together.

I stroked Delfin’s cheek. Growing up, he’d been different from many other kids. His maturation process hadn’t caught up fast enough. However, his slight speech impediment hadn’t stopped him from learning how to speak well because of me and Dad being rigorous about it. Even though he was still young at heart, Dad and I made sure never to treat him as if he were different because he’d never be in our eyes. His struggle with speaking longer phrases to where he had to break them up a bit didn’t matter at all. He still managed very well, and I was always proud of him.

After loving on my beautiful son, I rubbed Dad’s chest, his graying-blond hairs tickling my knuckles. His furry wolf body never failed to captivate me in all the horny ways my moderately-hairy otter body could respond. He stroked my brown hair, our green eyes locking with one another with the kind of desire whose flame would never be put out. He was the sexiest man I knew, whose German name, Wolf, naturally fit him. He looked younger for fifty-eight, but it didn’t matter if he didn’t. He’d always be my king. He’d always be the man I worshiped every single day of my life as the patriarch of the Melker family. I, of course, would always be his prince.

Or maybe he should now be the emperor, I the king, and Delfin the prince. Truthfully, the idea of just the two of us together as husbands had been morphing into an unexpected intergenerational triad, and we wholeheartedly welcomed it. We only hoped that Delfin would want to be a permanent part of it, but we knew he had to decide that for himself.

Dad reached for my average-size cock and stroked it, prompting me to stroke his seven inches of uncut man meat that was nice and thick. We jerked each other for a moment while Delfin gave us a horny smile, his own stiffy longer and thicker than ours.

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Babysitting for the Hot Dads

Eighteen-year-old Daphne loves babysitting little Lisa, especially since her gay dads, Chadwick and Deckard, are so hot.

After putting Lisa to bed, Daphne takes advantage of some of the amenities of this expansive home by taking a soak in the hot tub. While Chadwick and Deckard have always given her permission to do so, she’s still more than a little embarrassed when the two hot dads come home early and find her in a skimpy translucent bikini and about to touch herself under the foamy hot tub waters.

But that embarrassment quickly eases, though the tension ramps up, when she learns that the gay dads are actually bi dads…and they’re giving her signals that they’re into her.

A curious young woman, two intrigued grown men, and a relaxing hot tub. What could go wrong when the night is still young?

Babysitting for the Hot Dads is a 4,300-word short story.

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Now that she was deep asleep, I could finally relax in the hot tub from all the stresses of starting college in the fall. I’d miss babysitting her once I left. I’d started working here just after her birth two years ago. Sixteen and curious then, eighteen and bolder now.

I turned off the ceiling lamp that automatically switched to a comforting nightlight below. I sauntered into the guestroom, smaller than Lisa’s room but still bigger than my room. I got undressed, showered in the main bathroom down the hallway, and slipped on my white bikini. It was the nice thing about wearing this one in particular since white showed more when wet, and the bottom defined my small-but-perky ass; both dads were gay and totally not interested in me. I could wear whatever I wanted, within reason. The attention I got at the clubs I’d started going to with my friends was annoying. Immature horndogs hounding on us, a bit too pushy for my taste.

I wouldn’t mind a bit older, though.

I gave my straight hair a few brushstrokes in front of the bathroom mirror, yanked the blonde strands and dropped them into the trashcan, and left. If only I could live in this mini mansion. Well, no, a chateau after being corrected by Chadwick, the more anal of the two. How dare I forget.

I grabbed a cherry-flavored lollipop to save for the hot tub, as well as a towel and my phone. I decided to start with a little swim in the large, artfully-shaped pool decorated with soft outdoor lights that lit rainbow colors to coincide with Pride. This June was going to be a hot month; I could already tell.

I set the folded towel near the cemented edge and laid my phone on top of it. I dove into the water in a light splash and swam random laps for a few minutes, eventually floating on my back. The deep-purple sky greeted me with its starry beauty.

I smiled, and thoughts of college life filled me with so much curiosity. Going from living at home with Mom, Dad, and my two teasingly-hot stepbrothers, to a cramped room with strangers while surrounded by more rooms and more strangers. Yet I couldn’t wait.

I swam back to the edge to check my phone, and I rolled my eyes at a text from Erwin. Again? How did he keep having a different number every time I blocked him? He was good with tech stuff, but still. I wasted no time blocking his new number, promising myself that the next time would lead to a restraining order. Ugh, had I known he’d been toxic, I wouldn’t have lost my virginity to him. It wasn’t that losing it had to be extra special. It was losing it to him for a bitter memory. Now, he was back to being “in love” with me after hating me for not wanting to date him, apologizing for calling me an ungrateful bitch who’d only used him for his monster cock, and that he’d been “joking” about wishing I’d sent him nudes to use against me.


More like a series of bad sex, one pounding after another, much to my discomfort.

I clamped my hands onto the edge and pulled myself out of the pool. I left my towel and phone there since the hot tub was really close by. But I grabbed my lollipop, unwrapped it, and headed along the stone path for a steamy soak. The immaculate garden that decorated the back of the mini man—er, chateau—made me smile, its exotic flowers exuding a pleasing scent.

Once I was in the bubbling water, I found myself sliding my hand between my legs while savoring the cherry taste. The steam and massaging jet streams combined, enhancing the “wet” experience. What was it like having good sex? Erwin was my only experience, and I refused to believe sex was always that bad. What a selfish jerk who’d only cared about getting off and then insisting he’d been too tired to wait for me to come. Why had I waited a couple of months to end it?

And then, my biggest crush ever: a hot jock with dimples, big muscles, and a nice bubble butt to look at. He was dating my best friend; so, that was out of the question. Girl code, but especially a friendship I cared too much about to break.

“Having fun, Daphne?”

I was startled by a deep, sexy voice, and I jerked my hand away from my crotch, my heart pounding. I gave Chadwick and Deckard a sheepish grin. They must’ve been ready for a swim since they wore their designer swim trunks that highlighted their smooth and muscular bodies. I’d read about the gay-wolf body type. That was definitely them. “Sorry, I-I was just relaxing.”

“I see,” Deckard said, forming a subtle smirk. Was that…intrigue in his voice? God, he was so hot. His greenish eyes sparkling with amusement, dark-blond hair in a sexy mess, his face just a touch scruffy, and his full lips asking for a nibble. He never failed to capture my attention. He was the tanner of the two, clearly enjoying the sun more.

“Mind if we join you?” Chadwick asked, always the more polite one. He was just as hot with his blue-gray eyes softening with kindness, dark hair in a combed style, paler tone, and a more-chiseled face than Deckard’s. Both had the kind of power in their voices to send electricity from my naughty brain to my wet pussy.

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A Brotherly Christmas

It’s Christmas Eve and Josh turns eighteen at midnight.

For years, he’s pined over the forbidden love he harbors for his brother, Jake, but he knows he’ll never get to act on that taboo desire. But Josh is the kind of guy that never gives up on hope…just like he never gives up on believing in Santa.

For Josh, Santa is real, he sees him every Christmas Eve. Normally, Josh is a good boy and always ends up on the good list—but this year, his eighteenth, he wants to play a little prank on Santa, even if it risks putting him on the naughty list.

But when the prank is caught and Santa confronts him, his potential punishment turns into a gift he’ll never forget.

A Brotherly Christmas is a 4,500-word short story.

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In the dimly-lit living room, I sat on the bear rug with my legs crossed in anticipation, just a few feet away from the large Christmas tree. The heater had turned off for the cycle, and the embers in the rustic fireplace barely glowed. The only sound in the house was Dad’s snoring, drowning out any of Jake’s snores. At least the stench of cheap cigarettes had finally faded away, which did nothing but yellow the chipped walls.

I wore an old set of Christmassy PJs that still fit me because I was a twink who could fit into practically any small size. To be fair, it had originally belonged to a cousin of mine who had grown into a twunk.

Even though Mom was no longer around to tell me to be a good boy, I already knew to carefully leave a plate of chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk on the wobbly coffee table, just like every year. Please, as if I didn’t know what the surprise was. I’d just kept it to myself because it was part of the fun. Life was hard, and so was family life. Let me have something magical to hold onto, at least.

Now that it was past midnight, I was officially eighteen. So, this year, I wanted to have some fun and mix things up. I’d jerked off and shot a big load inside the glass of milk as a devious little prank. I couldn’t wait for Santa to drink it all up so that I could see his reaction.

After more minutes of waiting, Santa finally came from right behind me in quiet steps. I never turned around because I wanted to wait until he circled around to face me for a proper surprise. He always stood right by the Christmas tree.

Like every year, I forced myself to believe Santa really was here again, albeit slimmer and younger than the old and jolly version, but still much bigger than me. He towered over me in his famous red suit and hat that made me melt in ways I couldn’t begin to explain. “Ho, ho, ho!” he cheered in a low tone, his voice so deep in a contrived way.

He knew just how much this meant to me. He knew I didn’t want to grow up, but since I had to at my age, I might as well cling onto this part of my childhood. That was the whole point of this yearly experience. Some things, I just didn’t want to let go of, even though I was expected to.

Santa ate the cookies, looking pleased. Then, he gulped down the milk, but he made an awkward and pensive face. He sighed, shaking his head. “I think I know why this milk tastes a bit funny.” He didn’t sound mad, though.

I pursed my lips, trying my hardest to suppress a giggle. I was so naughty this year!

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