Dirty Family Secrets (Short Smut Stories)

HEATHER

I smoothed down the hem of my little black dress as I stepped into the cozy dining room of Alex's family home.

The air was thick with the scent of roasted garlic and herb-crusted chicken, mingling with the faint undertone of polished wood and fresh flowers on the table.

It was supposed to be a simple pre-wedding family dinner, a chance for everyone to bond before the big day in just a few weeks. Alex's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Thompson, were the epitome of suburban perfection, all warm smiles, perfectly styled hair, and a house that screamed "happy family."

Alex, my sweet, dependable fiancé, sat beside me, his hand resting possessively on my thigh under the table. He was handsome in a boy-next-door way: clean-shaven, with neatly trimmed brown hair and kind blue eyes that always looked at me like I was the center of his world.

But tonight, my attention wasn't on Alex. It wasn't on the wedding plans he kept babbling about-the floral arrangements, the seating chart, the honeymoon in Bali.

No, my gaze kept drifting across the table to Ben, Alex's younger brother. Ben was the polar opposite of Alex: rugged, cocky, with a perpetual five-o'clock shadow that made him look like he just rolled out of bed after a night of wild fucking.

At twenty-five, he was three years younger than me, but he carried himself with the confidence of a man who'd broken more hearts and more beds than I could imagine. His dark hair was tousled just right, falling over his forehead in a way that begged for fingers to run through it.

He wore a fitted black t-shirt that clung to his broad shoulders and sculpted chest, hinting at the rippling muscles beneath. His jeans were tight enough to outline the impressive bulge at his crotch, and I found myself staring, wondering just how big he was, how thick, how he'd feel stretching me open.

I shifted in my seat, crossing my legs to quell the sudden ache building between my thighs.

God, what was wrong with me?

I was engaged to Alex, for fuck's sake. We'd been together for two years, and he was the perfect man with a stable job as an accountant, always attentive in bed, even if it was a bit vanilla.

But Ben... Ben looked like the kind of guy who'd pin me down and fuck me senseless, leaving bruises and bite marks as souvenirs.

I'd met him a few times before, but tonight, something clicked. Maybe it was the way he leaned back in his chair, manspreading like he owned the room, his thighs straining against the denim. Or the smirk that played on his full lips every time our eyes met, like he knew exactly what filthy thoughts were racing through my mind.

"Pass the wine, would you, Heather?" Mrs. Thompson asked, snapping me out of my daze. I smiled politely, handing over the bottle of merlot, but my mind was elsewhere.

As I poured myself another glass, I imagined Ben's strong hands wrapping around my waist, yanking my dress up over my hips, exposing my lace thong. I'd worn it tonight thinking it might lead to some post-dinner fun with Alex, but now all I could think about was Ben tearing it off with his teeth.

Alex droned on about the wedding DJ. "We're thinking of going with that band from the expo, the one that plays all the classics. What do you think, Ben? You into that kind of music?"

Ben chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that sent a shiver straight to my core. "Classics? You mean like the shit our parents danced to at their wedding? Nah, bro. Give me something with a beat, something that makes you want to grind up on someone." His eyes flicked to me as he said it, lingering just a second too long on my cleavage, which was pushed up enticingly by my push-up bra.

I felt my nipples harden under his gaze, poking against the thin fabric of my dress.

Fuck, I was getting wet already, my pussy clenching at the thought of Ben's hips grinding against mine, his hard cock pressing into my ass as we danced dirty in some dark club.

I forced a laugh, trying to play it cool. "Ben's got a point. We don't want the guests falling asleep during the first dance." But inside, my mind was spinning a web of depravity. I pictured Ben cornering me in the hallway after dinner, his breath hot against my ear as he whispered, "I know you've been staring at my dick all night, you little slut. You want it, don't you? Want me to bend you over right here and fuck that tight pussy while your fiancé chats with Mom and Dad?"

I squeezed my thighs together, the friction against my swollen clit making me bite my lip to stifle a moan. The conversation flowed around me oblivious. Mr. Thompson was talking about the stock market, Mrs. Thompson gushing over the cake samples, Alex giving answers I didn't hear.

In my mind, Ben didn't wait for an answer. He'd shove me against the wall, his rough hands hiking up my dress, fingers delving between my legs to find my soaked panties. "Fucking drenched for me already," he'd growl, rubbing my clit through the lace until I was whimpering, begging for more.

Then he'd spin me around, yank my thong aside, and thrust his massive cock inside me in one brutal stroke, filling me so completely that I'd see stars.

My breath hitched as I imagined the stretch, the burn of his length splitting me open. He'd pound into me relentlessly, his balls slapping against my ass with every thrust, his fingers digging into my hips hard enough to leave marks. "Take it, you cheating whore," he'd grunt, his voice low and filthy. "Bet Alex never fucks you this good, does he? Bet he doesn't make you scream like I will."

I could almost feel it-the way my pussy would clench around him, milking his dick as he hammered my G-spot. My tits would bounce with each impact, nipples aching to be pinched and twisted.

Ben would reach around, sliding a hand under my dress to roll one between his fingers, tugging hard until I cried out. "That's it, baby. Cum for your future brother-in-law. Soak my cock with that sweet pussy juice."

The fantasy was so vivid that I felt a trickle of arousal seep into my panties. I glanced at Ben again, and this time, he was staring right back, his dark eyes smoldering with something primal.

Did he know? Could he smell my wetness from across the table?

The thought made me flush, my cheeks burning as I excused myself. "I... I need to use the bathroom," I stammered, pushing back from the table.

Alex gave my thigh a squeeze, oblivious as ever. "Hurry back, babe."

I fled down the hallway, my heels clicking on the hardwood floor. I locked myself in the guest bathroom, leaning against the door as my heart pounded.

The room was small and pristine. All white tiles, a pedestal sink, and a full-length mirror that reflected my disheveled state. My blonde hair was slightly mussed, my green eyes wide with lust, lips parted as I panted. I hiked up my dress, staring at my reflection as I slipped a hand into my thong.

Fuck, I was soaked-my fingers came away glistening with my juices, my clit throbbing under the lightest touch.

I couldn't stop now. The fantasy consumed me. My mind swirling with the imagination of Ben following me to the bathroom, kicking the door open and locking it behind him.

"Couldn't wait, huh?" he'd sneer, his voice dripping with arrogance. He'd grab me by the throat, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make me submit, pushing me back against the sink.

"Spread those legs for me, Heather. Show me that pretty pussy you've been teasing me with all night."

I'd obey, perching on the edge of the counter, legs wide as he dropped to his knees. His stubble would scrape my inner thighs as he buried his face between my legs, tongue lashing out to lap at my folds.

"Tastes like fucking heaven," he'd murmur, sucking my clit into his mouth, flicking it with expert precision.

I moaned aloud in the real bathroom, my fingers circling my clit faster, mimicking the motion. I imagined Ben's fingers plunging inside me, curling to hit that spot that made my toes curl.

"You're so tight, baby. Gonna stretch you out with my cock soon. But first, I want you to cum on my face."

My other hand roamed up to my breast, pinching my nipple through the dress, twisting it until pain mixed with pleasure. In the fantasy, Ben stood up, unzipping his jeans to free his cock. "Suck it," he'd command, fisting my hair and guiding my mouth to it.

I'd kneel, taking him deep, gagging as he hit the back of my throat. Saliva would drip down my chin, mixing with his pre-cum as I bobbed my head, hollowing my cheeks to suck him harder. "That's it, deepthroat me, you filthy bitch. Choke on your fiancé's brother's dick."

But in my mind, he wouldn't let me finish him off. No, he'd pull out, flip me around to face the mirror, and slam into me from behind. Watching our reflection as he fucked me. "Look at yourself," he'd growl. "Look at how much you love being my whore. Alex could walk in any second, and you'd still beg for more."

The risk made it hotter, my pussy clenching around the imaginary cock as I fingered myself furiously now, three fingers pumping in and out of my slick hole. My breaths came in ragged gasps, my body trembling as the orgasm built. In the fantasy, Ben would reach around to rub my clit, his other hand slapping my ass, leaving red handprints.

"Cum for me, Heather. Cum while I fill you up." And I would-shattering around him, my juices squirting onto his balls as he erupted inside me, hot spurts of cum painting my walls, claiming me as his.

In reality, I bit down on my lip to muffle my cry as I came, my pussy spasming around my fingers, waves of pleasure crashing over me.

I slumped against the sink, spent and guilty, but the aftershocks still rippling through me. I cleaned up quickly, splashing water on my face, fixing my makeup.

When I returned to the table, everyone was laughing about some story Mr. Thompson was telling. I slid back into my seat, avoiding Ben's gaze. But then I felt his eyes on me. I looked up, and there it was: that cocky wink, like he knew exactly what I'd just done.

My pussy twitched again, a spark lit from within. And I knew this obsession was only the beginning.

The sun beat down mercilessly on the sprawling backyard of Alex's parents' house, turning the pre-wedding pool party into a sweltering haze of laughter, splashing water, and the tangy scent of sunscreen mixed with chlorine.

It was one of those perfect summer afternoons where the air hummed with the buzz of cicadas, and the grill sizzled with burgers and hot dogs, their smoky aroma wafting over the crowd of family and friends milling about in swimsuits and flip-flops.

I had chosen my outfit carefully-no, provocatively-a tiny red bikini that barely contained my full breasts, the top tied in a flimsy bow that threatened to come undone with the slightest tug.

The bottoms were high-cut, riding up my ass cheeks just enough to show off the curve of my hips and the smooth, tanned skin of my thighs.

I knew it was risky, especially with Alex's conservative parents around, but the thrill of it made my pulse race.

I wanted Ben to notice.

Hell, I wanted him to devour me with his eyes.

Alex was by the grill, flipping burgers in his board shorts, his boyish grin lighting up as he chatted with his dad. He looked so innocent, so content, oblivious to the storm brewing inside me.

But Ben... oh, Ben was lounging on a deck chair like a predator in wait, his muscular body glistening with a sheen of sweat and oil under the sun.

He wore black swim trunks that hugged his powerful thighs, and even from across the pool, I could see the outline of his cock, thick and promising, stirring something primal in me.

His chest was broad and defined, dusted with dark hair that trailed down to his abs, each ridge catching the light. He sipped a beer, his full lips wrapping around the bottle neck in a way that made me imagine them on my skin, sucking and biting.

I sauntered over to the pool's edge, dipping a toe in the cool water, feeling the contrast against my heated skin. The water was inviting, rippling gently with the breeze, and I dove in with a graceful arc, the liquid enveloping me like a lover's embrace, cold at first, then soothing as it caressed every inch of my body.

I surfaced, slicking my wet blonde hair back, water droplets cascading down my cleavage, tracing paths over my hardened nipples that poked insistently against the thin fabric of my bikini top.

I swam a few laps, my arms cutting through the water with rhythmic strokes, but my eyes kept locking on Ben. He was watching me now, his dark gaze intense, a smirk playing on those sinful lips. It sent a jolt straight to my core, my pussy clenching involuntarily under the water.

The pool was crowded with cousins and friends splashing around, but I timed it perfectly.

As Ben slipped into the water, his body slicing through the surface with effortless power, I "accidentally" swam too close.

Our bodies brushed-my ass grazing against his crotch as I twisted in a pretend dodge. Oh God, the feel of him... even through the water, I could sense his bulge, semi-hard already, thickening against the soft curve of my backside.

It was electric, a forbidden spark that made my breath hitch. I lingered just a second too long, pressing back subtly, feeling him harden further, the rigid length of his cock nestling against my ass cheek like it belonged there.

The water amplified every sensation. The cool rush between us, the subtle throb of his arousal pulsing against me. He didn't pull away; instead, his hand grazed my hip under the surface, a fleeting touch that could have been accidental but wasn't.

His fingers were rough, calloused, sending shivers up my spine despite the warmth. "Sorry," I murmured over my shoulder, my voice breathy, but my eyes told a different story of a hungry challenge.

Ben's chuckle was low, vibrating through the water. "No you're not," he whispered, close enough that his breath tickled my ear, carrying the faint scent of beer and his musky cologne.

My nipples tightened even more, aching for attention, and I felt a fresh gush of wetness between my legs, mixing with the pool water. The party dragged on. Everybody played volleyball in the shallow end, cold drinks passed around, the sun dipping lower and casting golden hues over everything.

But the tension between Ben and me simmered like the heat rising off the concrete. Every glance, every casual brush of arms as we reached for the same chip bowl, built it higher.

By the time the sun started to set, painting the sky in oranges and pinks, I couldn't take it anymore. I excused myself to the pool house changing room, my skin prickling with anticipation.

The room was small, dimly lit by a single bulb, smelling of damp towels and coconut lotion. The mirror on the wall reflected my flushed face, my bikini still clinging wetly to my curves, water droplets tracing lazy paths down my stomach.

I heard the door creak open behind me, and my heart skipped. Ben slipped in, locking it with a soft click that echoed like a promise. He was still in his trunks, water beading on his chest, his hair tousled and damp.

The air between us crackled, thick with unspoken desire. He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming-the heat radiating from his body, the scent of chlorine and sweat mingling with his natural musk.

"You've been teasing me all day in that slutty little bikini," he growled, his voice low and rough, sending vibrations straight to my clit.

His eyes raked over me, dark and possessive, lingering on my breasts, my hips, the way my thong bottoms outlined the swell of my pussy lips.

I backed against the wall, the cool tile a shock against my heated skin. "I don't know what you're talking about," I lied, but my voice trembled with need.

Ben closed the distance, his body pressing against mine, his hard cock grinding into my thigh through the thin fabric. It felt enormous, throbbing with heat, and I whimpered softly, my hands instinctively reaching for his chest, feeling the firm muscles under my palms.

"Oh, you know exactly what I'm talking about," he murmured, his lips brushing my ear, hot breath fanning my neck.

One hand slid up my side, thumb grazing the underside of my breast, making me arch into him. "I know you want my cock stretching that tight little cunt of yours. You've been dripping for me all day, haven't you? Imagining me fucking you raw while Alex flips burgers outside."

His heavy words were so wrong, igniting a fire in my belly. I nodded, unable to deny it, my pussy aching, slick with arousal.

Ben's hand dipped lower, fingers slipping under my bikini bottom, finding my soaked folds. He groaned, "Fuck, you're so wet. This for me, Heather? This pretty pussy begging for your fiancé's brother?"

"Yes," I gasped, grinding against his hand as he circled my clit with expert pressure, the rough pad of his thumb sending sparks through me.

But he pulled back suddenly, smirking. "Not yet. On your knees, slut. Show me how bad you want it."

My legs trembled as I dropped to my knees on the rough tile floor, the coolness seeping into my skin.

Ben tugged down his trunks, freeing his cock, and oh God, it was a magnificent nine inches of thick, veined perfection, the head flushed and glistening with pre-cum.

Alex was average, but Ben looked hung like a fucking porn star. It bobbed in front of my face, the musky scent of him filling my nostrils, making my mouth water. I wrapped my hand around the base, feeling the heat, the pulse of his veins under my fingers. It was so thick my fingers barely met, and I stroked slowly, watching a bead of pre-cum pearl at the tip.

"Open wide," he commanded, fisting my wet hair, guiding me forward. I parted my lips, tongue flicking out to taste him-salty, tangy, addictive. I swirled around the head, savoring the smooth skin, the ridge where it met the shaft.

Ben groaned, his hips bucking slightly as I took him deeper, inch by inch, my lips stretching around his girth. The taste flooded my mouth and I hollowed my cheeks, sucking hard, my tongue pressing against the underside, tracing the throbbing vein.

"Fuck, that's good," he hissed, his grip tightening in my hair, pulling me closer. I gagged as he hit the back of my throat, tears pricking my eyes, but the burn only made me hotter.

I bobbed my head, taking him deeper with each stroke, saliva dripping from the corners of my mouth like in my fantasies, mixing with his pre-cum and trailing down my chin in messy strings.

My free hand cupped his heavy balls, rolling them gently, feeling them tighten under my touch. Ben thrust shallowly, fucking my mouth with controlled power, his cock sliding in and out, coated in my spit.

"Look at you, choking on my dick like a good little whore," he growled, his voice strained with pleasure. "Bet Alex never gets this sloppy. Suck harder, Heather. Make me cum down your throat."

I obeyed, my jaw aching, but the degradation fueled me. I deepthroated him, my nose brushing his trimmed pubes, inhaling his scent deeply.

Gagging sounds filled the room, wet and obscene, as I worked him faster, my hand twisting at the base in rhythm with my mouth. His cock swelled, twitching, and I knew he was close.

Pre-cum leaked steadily, coating my tongue, and I moaned around him, the vibrations making him curse. "Shit, yes-swallow it all," he grunted, his hips jerking.

Hot spurts of cum erupted, filling my mouth, thick and salty, spilling over my tongue. I swallowed greedily, but some dribbled out, dripping down my chin onto my heaving breasts.

Ben pulled out with a pop, stroking the last drops onto my lips, smearing them like gloss. I licked it up, savoring the taste, my pussy throbbing emptily. But guilt crashed over me like a wave and was enough to stop me cold.

"We can't... not all the way," I whispered, standing on shaky legs, wiping my chin.

Ben smirked, tucking himself away. "For now."

That night, in my bed while Alex snored softly beside me, the memory replayed on loop. My hand slipped between my legs, fingers delving into my soaked pussy, rubbing my clit in furious circles.

I imagined Ben's cock instead, stretching me, pounding me.

"Ben," I moaned quietly, building to the edge. My orgasm hit hard, squirting onto the sheets, waves of pleasure wracking my body as I called out his name in hushed ecstasy. The obsession deepened, and I knew I was lost.

The clock on my nightstand glowed 12:15 AM, when I woke up.

It casted a dim red light over where Alex slept soundly beside me, his soft snores a rhythmic reminder of the life I was supposed to be building. But my mind was a whirlwind of filthy cravings, replaying the pool party blowjob while the sensations of Ben's thick cock stretching my throat, his cum coating my tongue assaulted my senses.

It didn't matter how much I fingered myself, my pussy throbbed with unmet need, slick and aching under the sheets.

I could wake Alex, beg him to fuck me but I know how gentle he'd be, how he'd hold me and I didn't want that.

Only Ben could give me what I wanted.

I stifled a groan. I couldn't take it anymore. Fuck the guilt; I needed Ben inside me right fucking now.

Slipping out of bed quietly, I threw on a simple nightgown, naked underneath with the thin fabric clinging to my curves and grabbed my phone.

The excuse was weak: "I couldn't sleep so I went for a walk around the compound." I didn't wonder if Alex would buy it if he woke up and read my text to him. But I couldn't care about that now. He didn't stir as I tiptoed out, my heart pounding with a mix of fear and excitement.

The walk down the long dark halls of the Thompson mansion was torture. The cool night air seeped through the windows, hardening my nipples against the gown, while my thighs rubbed together, slick with arousal. Every turn felt like I'd run into a servant, every closed door felt like it would open and I'd be exposed. But it only drove me forward, my mind flooding with images of Ben's rugged face buried between my legs, his tongue devouring me.

By the time I stopped outside his room, my pussy was dripping down my legs.

I texted him: "Need advice on wedding stuff. You up?"

His reply was instant: "Door's unlocked. Come in."

I pushed the door open, stepping into the dimly lit space. Ben's room was a bachelor's wet dream: leather couch, big-screen TV, scattered beer bottles, and the faint musk of his cologne hanging in the air like an invitation.

He lounged on the couch in gray sweatpants and a tank top, his muscular arms flexed as he poured two glasses of whiskey from a bottle on the coffee table.

His dark eyes lit up when he saw me, that cocky smirk spreading across his lips. "Wedding advice, huh? At midnight and dressed in that?" I closed the door behind me, my cheeks flushing under his gaze.

The room was warm, the air thick with tension, and I could already feel my resolve crumbling.

"Shut up," I muttered, but there was no bite to it. I sat beside him on the couch, our thighs brushing, the heat from his body seeping into mine.

He handed me a glass, the amber liquid swirling as our fingers touched, sending a spark straight to my core. The whiskey burned going down, smooth and smoky, warming my belly and loosening the last of my guilt.

He filled my glass again and we clinked glasses, his eyes never leaving mine. "To family secrets," he toasted, his voice low and gravelly.

Ben's hand rested on my knee, casual at first, then inching higher, his rough palm sliding under my gown.

"Should we get down to business?" He leaned in close, his breath hot against my neck, carrying the sharp scent of whiskey and his natural musk.

"We know you came because that pretty pussy of yours is aching for me. Admit it." I shivered, my nipples pebbling hard, visible through the thin fabric.

"Maybe," I whispered, but my body betrayed me, parting my legs slightly as his fingers traced up my inner thigh.

He chuckled darkly, his hand cupping my smooth flesh, finding me bare and soaked. "No panties? You naughty, naughty girl." His middle finger dipped into my folds, slick with my juices, circling my clit with teasing pressure.

I gasped, arching into his touch, the sensation electric-rough and insistent, nothing like Alex's gentle caresses.

Before I could beg, Ben shoved me back onto the couch with a growl, the leather cool against my heated skin. He hiked my gown up over my hips, exposing my shaved pussy, glistening in the low light.

"Fuck, look at you," he groaned, his eyes hungry as he spread my thighs wide, hooking my legs over his shoulders.

The position left me vulnerable, my ass slightly lifted, my holes on full display. He dove in like a man starved, his mouth latching onto my pussy with impatient hunger.

His tongue was everywhere-lapping at my folds, delving deep into my entrance, tasting my essence with sloppy, wet sounds that filled the room.

The stubble on his jaw scraped my sensitive inner thighs, a delicious burn that made me squirm. "Oh God, Ben," I moaned, my hands fisting in his hair, pulling him closer.

He sucked my clit into his mouth, flicking it with the flat of his tongue, rapid and relentless, sending jolts of pleasure shooting through me.

The whiskey on his breath mixed with my musky scent, intoxicating. But he didn't stop there-his hand slid lower, a finger circling my tight asshole, teasing the puckered hole.

"You like that, don't you? My future sister-in-law wants her ass played with." He pushed in slowly, the intrusion burning at first, then blooming into ecstasy as he worked his finger deeper, knuckle by knuckle, while his tongue assaulted my clit.

I was lost, grinding my soaked pussy against his face, coating his chin and lips with my juices.

The wet slurping sounds were obscene, echoing off the walls, mixed with my desperate whimpers.

"More, Ben-fuck, please, finger my ass harder!" I begged, my voice breaking, filthy things spilling from my lips like a dam burst. "Eat my cunt, you bastard-make me cum on your face like the whore I am!"

He obliged, adding a second finger to my ass, stretching me, pumping in rhythm with his tongue. The dual sensation was overwhelming-my pussy clenching, my asshole gripping his fingers, building pressure like a coil ready to snap. My tits heaved with each breath, nipples aching for attention.

I pinched them through my dress, twisting hard, the pain amplifying the pleasure. Ben's free hand reached up, yanking the buttons down to expose my breasts, his palm slapping one roughly before kneading it.

"These tits are mine tonight," he mumbled against my clit, vibrations sending me higher. I screamed as the orgasm hit, raw and explosive.

My body shook, pussy squirting juices onto his tongue, asshole spasming around his fingers.

"Fuck yes!"

Waves crashed over me, leaving me trembling, breathless, but he didn't stop until I pushed him away, oversensitive and spent.

Ben rose, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his face slick with my release. His sweatpants tented, his cock straining against the fabric.

"My turn," he growled, shoving them down to free his massive dick-thick, veined, the head angry red and leaking pre-cum. I licked my lips, still buzzing from my climax, as he straddled my chest, his balls heavy against my sternum.

"Gonna fuck these perfect tits, Heather. Squeeze them around my cock."

I obeyed, cupping my breasts, pushing them together to form a tight channel. He spat on my cleavage, the warm glob mixing with my sweat, then slid his cock between them, the heat of him searing my skin.

He thrust slowly at first, the slick slide hypnotic, his balls dragging over my ribs with each pump. "Look at that-your tits were made for this," he grunted, picking up speed.

The friction built, his cockhead peeking out at the top with every stroke, brushing my chin. He slapped his dick against my nipples, the wet smacks echoing, making them sting deliciously.

"Harder," I moaned, loving it. "Slap my tits with that big cock-" He did, alternating thrusts with slaps-left nipple, right, the pain blooming into heat that shot straight to my core.

My pussy clenched emptily, fresh arousal dripping down my thighs. Ben's breaths came ragged, his abs flexing, sweat beading on his chest.

"Gonna cum all over your pretty face, slut. Open your mouth-stick out your tongue." I did, eager, as he pulled back, stroking his cock furiously.

The first splash hit my cheek, hot and thick, followed by another on my forehead, dripping into my hair. He aimed lower, coating my lips and tongue, the salty taste flooding my mouth.

"Swallow what you can," he ordered, milking the last drops onto my chin. I did, savoring his essence, feeling it dry sticky on my skin as he smeared it with his thumb, marking me like property.

"My cum looks good on you," he said, smirking.

We collapsed, panting, the room reeking of our juices and whiskey. But as the high faded, guilt crept back in and I knew I couldn't stay.

I fixed my dress, cum still glistening on my face, and stood.

"Running back to the calm brother?"

I reached the door and before I slipped out, I hissed at him. "This is the last time."

I vowed to myself as I picked my way back to our room.