"Hey babe," Phil was lying on the bed shirtless, his massive pecs and deltoids on display, ready for sleep. "Could you come home early tomorrow? Tomorrow's kinda nice date and I wanna take you out for dinner, or maybe we could have dinner at the house?"
I looked at Phil's warm hazel eyes. We had such a rowdy year last year, what with the pandemic and my father's death and the rejection of our adoption application, and he was putting in moves to rectify our relationship. At least that was what the marriage counsellor suggested after we failed our adoption application. But I could not sweeten the jab when I asked back, "Can you cook, though? Remember the last time?" Half of our kitchen was black with soot from the fires that Phil always managed to produce when he was manning the stove. "Maybe you could have Scotty help you."
Phil let out a tiny groan. He hated Scotty my younger brother, and the hate was mutual. But someone in the room had to be the adult. "I've decided. Scotty will help with the cooking and you will do the prep work." Phil let out a huge sigh, accepting his defeat.
"Okay, but if anything breaks it's your brother's fault."
22/02/2022
I was deep at work, juggling four open spreadsheets at once, when a message came from Phil. Scotty had arrived with the groceries, and he had caught Phil at shower. The next message had them taking photos side by side of them prepping the food, before the actual cooking. One picture in particular took me by surprise, where Scotty had a lump of cream coating his finger and Phil was licking it and Scotty was looking at the camera with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
I spent a few minutes staring at that photo. I knew Scotty was gay, he came out to the family after I did, but I never did think of him in his gayness until today. What must have been running in his mind, I wondered, there alone with my hunk of a husband, even if there was past animosity between them? Now I regretted ever telling him of Phil's prowess in bed - of his large nine-incher and his awesome stamina. I found myself developing an erection there in the middle of the office in the middle of the day.
I decided to call it a day earlier than usual. The drive home was slightly stressful, will-they or won't-they situation. I decided against parking in our lot, instead to park down the road slightly far away. The house was quiet, there was a slight smell of something savory in the oven but no other unmistakable smell of cooking. I kept quiet. If I hear intently I could hear groans from upstairs.
I climbed the stairs gingerly on stockinged feet. On the hallway were scattered articles of clothing. The door to our bedroom was open ever so slightly. I peered in and watched the scene on our marital bed as the cock of my husband of five years rammed inside my brother's white ass. Groans were running from my husband's mouth, as were moans from my brother's.
"If I know you had this tight ass I wouldn't marry your brother," my husband grunted, as he fucked his cock into that tight ass. "Fuck, so fucking tight."
"Yeah right, your loss," Scotty replied cheekily. "Umm, yeah, right there, fuck."
"Fucking grade A asshole."
"Better than my brother?"
"Fuck, much better, much better," Phil whispered against Scotty's nape. "I'm fucking cumming, can I cum up your ass again?"
"Come, take my ass," Scotty whispered back. "Breed me, bro."
"FUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKKKKK!!!"
I turned from the door. That was when I realized I had came, the slimy semen running down the leg of my pants. I was in a state of confusion. There on the bed had been my husband and my brother, who betrayed me in the worse way possible, and here I was, my cum running down my thighs from the betrayal. Who was I? I didn't even know anymore.
I looked at Phil's warm hazel eyes. We had such a rowdy year last year, what with the pandemic and my father's death and the rejection of our adoption application, and he was putting in moves to rectify our relationship. At least that was what the marriage counsellor suggested after we failed our adoption application. But I could not sweeten the jab when I asked back, "Can you cook, though? Remember the last time?" Half of our kitchen was black with soot from the fires that Phil always managed to produce when he was manning the stove. "Maybe you could have Scotty help you."
Phil let out a tiny groan. He hated Scotty my younger brother, and the hate was mutual. But someone in the room had to be the adult. "I've decided. Scotty will help with the cooking and you will do the prep work." Phil let out a huge sigh, accepting his defeat.
"Okay, but if anything breaks it's your brother's fault."
22/02/2022
I was deep at work, juggling four open spreadsheets at once, when a message came from Phil. Scotty had arrived with the groceries, and he had caught Phil at shower. The next message had them taking photos side by side of them prepping the food, before the actual cooking. One picture in particular took me by surprise, where Scotty had a lump of cream coating his finger and Phil was licking it and Scotty was looking at the camera with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
I spent a few minutes staring at that photo. I knew Scotty was gay, he came out to the family after I did, but I never did think of him in his gayness until today. What must have been running in his mind, I wondered, there alone with my hunk of a husband, even if there was past animosity between them? Now I regretted ever telling him of Phil's prowess in bed - of his large nine-incher and his awesome stamina. I found myself developing an erection there in the middle of the office in the middle of the day.
I decided to call it a day earlier than usual. The drive home was slightly stressful, will-they or won't-they situation. I decided against parking in our lot, instead to park down the road slightly far away. The house was quiet, there was a slight smell of something savory in the oven but no other unmistakable smell of cooking. I kept quiet. If I hear intently I could hear groans from upstairs.
I climbed the stairs gingerly on stockinged feet. On the hallway were scattered articles of clothing. The door to our bedroom was open ever so slightly. I peered in and watched the scene on our marital bed as the cock of my husband of five years rammed inside my brother's white ass. Groans were running from my husband's mouth, as were moans from my brother's.
"If I know you had this tight ass I wouldn't marry your brother," my husband grunted, as he fucked his cock into that tight ass. "Fuck, so fucking tight."
"Yeah right, your loss," Scotty replied cheekily. "Umm, yeah, right there, fuck."
"Fucking grade A asshole."
"Better than my brother?"
"Fuck, much better, much better," Phil whispered against Scotty's nape. "I'm fucking cumming, can I cum up your ass again?"
"Come, take my ass," Scotty whispered back. "Breed me, bro."
"FUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKKKKK!!!"
I turned from the door. That was when I realized I had came, the slimy semen running down the leg of my pants. I was in a state of confusion. There on the bed had been my husband and my brother, who betrayed me in the worse way possible, and here I was, my cum running down my thighs from the betrayal. Who was I? I didn't even know anymore.