Editor's note: this submission contains scenes of incest or incest content.
*
This wasn't right.
But was there a way to hold back from thinking cock-hardening thoughts? Hell, Jeremy's mind was lost in the gutter and a way to retrieve it eluded him.
A lot had changed in the past few weeks, getting much more domineering in the past few days. Sometimes, he felt like a stranger in his own body, and by jove, he loved the feel of it. He knew he shouldn't. He knew that banishing the newfound wantonness was the right thing to do. At least that was what the tiny voice at the back of his head said.
He should be at his study desk, his face buried in some study material, but here he stood by his bedroom window, casting his gaze one story below, at a shirtless Andrew washing his Toyota truck—their truck, actually, since it belonged to the both of them. It was impossible to take his eyes off the raven-haired eighteen-year-old, and that was quite natural, considering that Andrew was hot enough to have a nun fingering herself in the bathroom while thoughts of fucking him crossed her mind. And his low-ridden denim pants showing off his v-cut made it all worse. From where Jeremy stood on the top floor of their ranch, he had the perfect view of Andrew's body. Even from afar, his v-cut didn't lose its allure. Hell, the distance seemed to make it even more alluring.
It was late evening and the sun had hidden in the rather gloomy clouds, yet Andrew's body glistened with sweat, no thanks to the movement of his hands as he gave the car a thorough wash. Finding a guy attractive was natural; Jeremy had no problem with being gay. He had never thought about taking a cock in his ass or doing anything sexual with a guy, but he certainly wasn't judgmental when it came to sexual orientation. So finding a guy sexually attractive was just as natural as falling for a girl.
The unnatural part was finding his kid brother sexually attractive...in a way that made him want to rip his clothes off and devour him.
Once the thought of fucking Andrew crossed his mind, Andrew looked up at him as though he had heard his thoughts. But he hadn't said those words aloud, had he? He certainly hadn't said a word about wanting to jump his brother's bones. Hell, he'd said no word at all. He'd had no idea Andrew knew of his presence, so when Andrew suddenly looked in his direction, his heart thumped in his chest.
"Enjoy the view,"" Andrew said, all smiles.
"You wish!"" Jeremy feigned a scowl, and then he turned away from the window.
"I'm sexy and you know it, dickhead!" Andrew said, voiced raised.
Jeremy smiled. He could imagine Andrew sticking out his middle finger. So when he redirected his attention to him, he wasn't surprised to find his middle finger standing tall. At the sight of Andrew's middle finger, Jeremy couldn't help but entertain mental images of the finger exploring his ass. A finger had never gone up his ass, and the thought of it had never crossed his mind, bur for the first time he wondered what it would feel like.
Shit! He cut off his thoughts and pulled away from the window in a desperate attempt to hide his rosy cheeks. He stood with his back to the wall, his chest heaving as he tried to calm his heart. But his attempt to calm his heart only caused it to pound harder. In his mind's eye he could see Andrew stripping naked, letting his huge cock spring into view. He knew it would be impossible to get his mind out of the gutter just yet, so he didn't attempt to push away the thoughts. If there was something he'd learned during the past week, then this was it: do not fight the thoughts, you'll never win.
He knew it wouldn't be long before his cock started to harden. Still standing with his back to the wall, he slowly moved his right hand to his groin and cupped his cock. Flaccid. Too flaccid.
A little hardness wouldn't go wrong, or would it? He'd subjected his cock to a whole lot of sexual tension. Maybe it was time for his trophy gratification, relieving himself of even an ounce of the tension. He heaved a deep sigh, his heart swelling with approval as his cock responded to his touch. He'd felt it twitch. Although subtle, he'd noticed it anyway—a movement in his hand that could only mean one thing.
He was already hardening.
This was a lot faster than he'd thought it would, considering that he had no visual stimulation. Well, maybe he did.
He peeled his back away from the wall and glanced down at Andrews again. Andrews had his back to him, so he could jerk off to Andrew's toned ass. Andrew's low-ridden pants gave a cum-worthy sneak peak of the top of his ass. That was enough to jerk off to, so with his eyes fixed on Andrew, he slowly unbuckled his belt, and then proceeded to undo his zipper. He slipped his hand beneath the waistline of his pants and wrapped his fingers around his huge cock. He was hard enough to hammer a tight ass and make it sore. But that wasn't the hardest he could get, so he started to glide his fingers along his shaft, his pace slow and steady as though he had all day. Well, acting like he did have all day wouldn't hurt, or would it?
His pants were an obstruction, hindering the movement of his hand as he continued to stroke himself, so without a second thought, he slipped his pants down his legs, bringing his huge cock out of hiding. He had his eyes fixed on Andrew the whole time, so when Andrew started to turn around, he was quick to move out of sight. He advanced to his brown-sheeted bed, and after he'd perched on it, he placed his pants beside him. He tightened his hold on his cock, his mind producing images of how tight Andrew's ass would possibly be. So, he tightened his hold even more, mimicking the possible tightness of his brother's ass.
He glided his hand up his cock, then back down to grasp his balls. He let out a sharp breath, his chest rising and falling. Eyes closed, he gave in to the pleasure welling up in his balls. Yes, touching himself felt good, but not nearly as good as it would if this was some hot guy stroking him. And at the moment, all he wanted was Andrew Mendoza.
When he opened his eyes, his heart skipped a beat at the sight of a sweaty Andres standing in the doorway.
"Shit!" Jeremy muttered, his cheeks instantly heating up.
His most natural reaction would be to scramble for the blanket or his pillow and cover his cock. But there was something about the look in Andrew's eyes that rendered him immobile, as though he'd lost all control of his body. All he could do was stare back at Eric.
He searched his eyes for a trace of condemnation, or anything close to it. But instead of condemnation, he found a look of approval. Andrews liked what he saw; that part was pretty much clear. He had an intense look in his eyes—a look that could only mean either of two things.
One, he wanted to fight.
Two, he wanted to fuck.
Jeremy could swear on it that it was the latter. The bulge in Andrew's pants was enough proof of that.
