You’re together from birth. Inseparable.
“IF YOU’RE A BAT OUT OF HELL–!”
You share so many other firsts, so many secrets.
“AND YOU WANT TO HAVE FUN–!”
There’s nobody you’re closer to during those crazy years of puberty.
“THERE’S ONLY ONE NAME TO YELL–!”
So, really…wouldn’t it be weirder if you weren’t one another’s first sexual experience?
“SON, SON, SON OF A TUNN!”
Maybe…but it’s still pretty sad when only one of you never moved on.
I push the unpleasant thought from my head with a loud wolf whistle, applauding for my twin brother Kobus and his son Zander as they high-five at the end of their loud and lusty–if musically questionable–Tunn family ballad.
“When do you sign the recording contract?” I call out as the two swimwear-clad men laugh and posture next to my pool. “I’ll be your agent. Album art’s already sorted.” I frame them with my angled fingers, and Kobus roars with laughter.
“Not a chance!” he yells back, striking a few poses one after the other. “Far too sexy for people to handle. They wouldn’t get permission to sell it in stores.” He proves his point by holding a strongman pose that shows off his thick muscles to their fullest extent, and I grin and nod as I drink in the sight of him like a desert horse at an oasis. Our schedules really only allow us to get together as a family over New Year’s, and these few days when I get to hang out with my twin brother are far and away my favourite time of the year.
Especially the parts when he’s half-naked and soaking wet from a swim.
I surreptitiously push my plump cock down against my leg for the tenth time today and continue staring at the beefy curves of my brother’s body. Only seeing him once a year for the last decade or so means I’ve watched him age like I’m flipping through a stack of annually-taken Polaroids. And what a delightful ride it’s been.
Sure, the perfect muscles of a fit younger man have gradually been padded over by age–but they’re definitely still there. He carried two large bags of firewood in earlier, one under each arm, as easily as if they were filled with feathers. I had to invent an excuse to not help because I was a gnat’s breath away from burying my face in his enormous, furry pecs the entire time. The thick belly under them has been simulated in my arms with a pillow countless times; he had stunning pecs back in the day, but the sheer power he exudes now makes my legs weak. And I can see other muscles rising to the surface like breaching whales as he and Zander compete to see who has the bigger bicep.
Kobus beats his son easily, of course.
We’re forty-six years old now, and while horses age like wrinkling apples, my twin has never looked hotter to me. He’s had a son for almost twenty-four of those, but this is the year when I think I can say that he has truly become a daddy. He even got the requisite nipple piercings at some point this year, which was an unexpected but extremely pleasant surprise when he took his shirt off to swim. His favourite joke for the last fifteen years has been well, if Braam is the horse of the family then I’m the bear, and every year that gets more accurate. His beard and hair have been growing silver for some time, but this has been the first year I’ve noticed the effect spreading to his chest hair. I’m hardly one to point fingers–I twirl a lock of my greying mane absently–but where it just makes me look older, I think it makes him look even sexier. My gorgeous silverback twin.
I glance at the man standing next to my brother and laugh at his half-constipated expression. “Got to know when you’re beat, Zander!” I call out. The kid looks about to burst a vein trying to beat his father at the Bicep Olympics, but it’s never going to happen, and Kobus whoops as his challenger capitulates with a sigh.
“Sure, okay, fine,” Zander says. “But my thighs are bigger!” The younger man presses his leg next to his father’s and slides up one leg of his swimming trunks, and my helpless eyes follow them to his crotch.
I really shouldn’t be eyeing my nephew with even an iota of lasciviousness, I know, but I’m a weak horse. Even as my brother aged, the carved-by-Michelangelo trophy didn’t leave the family: it just passed from father to son. Zander’s always been a strong kid, just from helping out on the farm all the time, but he must have started working out intensely on top of that this year. The muscles that were generous but vague last year are now exceptionally firm, cut and gorgeous. I still work out to keep the ravages of time at bay as best I can, but no amount of exercise can wipe twenty years away.
Meanwhile, Zander casually struts his Adonis belt like it was invented for him alone, and his chest looks as broad and hard as his father’s is thick–even if his rippling abs make me mourn for all the carbs he must have rejected over the last twelve months. He didn’t inherit his dad’s thick, dark body hair, but his tousled blonde locks, close shave and easy, roguish smile combine with that spectacular body to make him one of the most devilishly attractive men I’ve ever seen. If his dad’s a bear, then Zander’s a bull–and like all fit young bulls, I expect his dick has carved quite a path through the bars in his city.
I do wish it hadn’t developed a taste for avuncular stallion, though. Hypocrite that I am.
As if he feels my eyes on him, Zander suddenly grabs his father around the waist and waves to get my attention. I marvel at how many of Kobus’ genes passed down to his son; if Zander grew a beard and ten centimetres taller, only hair colour would distinguish them. I try not to linger on the thought of what other genes he might have inherited. “Uncle Braam!” the young man calls, pushing his hair back and squinting against the midday glare. “Which one of us sings the best?”
“Didn’t win the thigh thing, huh?” I consider. “Well–“
“You don’t need to answer, Braam!” Kobus quickly interrupts, patting his son’s face condescendingly. “I don’t want his feelings to be hurt.”
“Um, Dad?” Zander says, patting his father’s face in turn. “Why would my feelings be hurt by being correctly acknowledged as the best performer in the family?”
“Sssh, son,” Kobus says, trying to swallow a smirk as he covers Zander’s mouth with one hand, muffling him. “Don’t get your hopes up.” Zander says something that I don’t catch, and Kobus gasps, releasing his son to take a step back and stare at him in mock shock. “You little–!” He points a finger at his son as Zander sniggers and brushes his hair back again. “Not only can I get it up, boy, I can get you up!”
Zander’s mouth goes slack with shock moments before his father storms him with arms wide, wrapping them around his son in a bearhug and lifting him entirely off the ground. Zander cries out in mock terror as he rises into the air, arms pinned helplessly by his snorting, grunting father. The elder Tunn’s incredible strength is sufficient to swing his beefy son bodily from side to side a few times before releasing him and letting him fly–arms flailing, shrieking like a hadeda–into the pool beside them. As half of my pool’s water is peremptorily relocated, my brother lifts his fists in a champion’s pose.
“Last man standing!” he roars. “Behold: the greatest singer of our generation! Kobus Tunn!”
Zander bursts from under the water, spluttering and pointing accusingly. “No! Cheat! Cheating! Uncle Braam, disqualify him!”
“From what?” I ask, but the pair have already resumed their boisterous fun. Zander is splashing handfuls of water at his father who manages to dodge almost all of the wet missiles, showing surprising agility for his bulk. The subtle advantage of toes, I muse, eyeing the hooves I have propped up on the coffee table before looking back at the two huge men laughing and playing like excited toddlers. I feel a yearning to join them, to make myself a part of what they have…but I’ve felt it enough before to know its true source. What it really desires.
“Miss you, bro,” I say under my breath to Kobus. It doesn’t help. “Miss your dick,” I try instead, and that just makes my own dick twitch in too-hopeful excitement. Well, whatever. It’s New Year’s Eve; I should be allowed to indulge in a harmless vice to wrap up the year. Especially when the vice himself is standing damp and shirtless on my lawn with a wadded-up towel under his arm like a rugby ball, other arm outstretched, giggling adorably as he fends off his son.
Feeling suddenly antsy, I get to my feet and poke at the lunch cooking on the braai. Whoops and shouts continue drifting over from the lawn, and I do my weak-willed best to let them pass through me. It feels like jealousy, but I don’t think it is. Just a year with a lot of romantic disappointments that has led my heart–and dick–to long for a more fondly remembered time, even if I know those days are long gone. I glance over at Kobus, his blue eyes flashing in the sun, and sigh, then shake my head and nicker. I’m being silly. Things change; nothing anyone can do about that. And it’s not like I lost all my privileges.
Be grateful for that, at least.
“Uncle Braam!” Zander calls out.
“Ya, kiddo?” I say absently.
“Do you really bite people?”
“…what?” I step out from behind the braai and peer at him. “Bite people?”
“I threatened to bite Dad–as a joke!–and he asked if I learned that from you.”
“Well, maybe it was more of a nip,” Kobus says, tossing his towel-ball up and catching it. “Still, with those teeth, it’s not something you’d forget.”
I look at him blankly. “I do not bite people, Kobus.”
“You do when they deserve it.” He cocks his head. “You really don’t remember? Oh, man.” He grins. “One of your finest moments! Okay. So.”
He turns to face his son. “When we were growing up, right, lots of people didn’t believe that we were twins. So we had to explain it a lot. It got really tiresome the hundredth time: same as any other family with one human and one horse kid, actually; yes, we came out at the same time; yes, it can happen, it’s just rare. All that guff.” He smirks at me. “Your uncle was always more annoyed by it than I was because people are always weird about horses.” Zander shoots me a sympathetic look, and I make a funny face at him and smile.
“Anyway,” Kobus continues, “in Matric, there was a kid from one of the years below us. I think he was new, and he obviously heard about us from his friends or something, but either they told him some crazy shit or he was just getting a head-start on becoming a creep, because one day he comes up to us and starts saying some really insulting stuff about Mom–about Gram-Gram.”
Something twigs for me. “Oh,” I say. “I think I remember this now…”
Kobus nods eagerly. “Ya! So, like, just really weird. Like he thought we were lying, or something? Claiming we couldn’t be twins and suggesting that Gram-Gram just said that to hide that she was sleeping around…”
Zander looks astonished. “What?”
“He was an idiot, son, don’t worry. But anyway, he’s going on like this, and I can see your uncle’s ears just getting flatter and flatter. But the kid clearly couldn’t read horse body language–and also had a death wish, I mean, your uncle was huge back then, and captain of the first XV, he could have punched the guy’s face inside out–but the guy clearly couldn’t see the signs, so when Uncle Braam suddenly whinnied at the top of his voice and lunged forward, the guy just put his arm up for protection like he was gonna be hit. But instead your uncle just”–he mimed a shark with one hand–“bit into it. Like it was a huge chicken drumstick.”
I grunt. “Dumbstick, more like.”
Zander gasps and looks at me in admiration. “No way!”
“He deserved it,” I say simply, flicking my ears in quiet satisfaction.
“And then? What happened?”
“He died,” Kobus says seriously.
“What?!“
“He didn’t,” I assure my nephew. “Your dad just thinks he’s a funny man. No, he complained to the principal and I got detention.”
“Did you tell the principal what he said?”
“I wanted to,” Kobus says, looking at me, “but your uncle told me not to. He just did the detention and that was it.”
“But he was so rude!”
“He also spent the next month with huge bite marks on his arm,” I point out. “And after he explained why a few times, the truth got out and he didn’t get a ton of sympathy. So.”
“Uncle Braam!” Zander claps for me, grinning. “You’re a badass!”
“He’s a stallion,” Kobus says. “They all are. And I’m his twin, which means I am too.”
Zander considers his father with a sly smirk. “Hmm. So…if I beat you…”
Before the older man can respond, his irrepressible son tackles him and the two of them go down in a heap, all arms and torsos and muscled thighs. The younger Tunn fights his way to the top, sitting atop his father in a position that makes me nicker and lick my lips. He wrestles the towel-ball away from Kobus before loosening it and draping it around his neck as a trophy. “Victory!” he crows, duplicating his father’s earlier pose with raised arms, and I quickly look away before the sight of Tunn-on-Tunn horseplay makes my pants situation even worse.
I spend a few minutes turning meat on the braai as the two men tussle, until at last they seem to tire. Zander gets up and comes jogging towards me. “Did your dad concede?” I ask.
“Y-ya!” he says, panting. “I’m an official Tunn badass now, like you!”
“So where’s your victory towel, badass?”
“Dad took it back. But I still won.” He raises his arms again. “Woo!”
I stare straight ahead, trying to make the boerewors and sosaties on the grill my entire world, but his scent is overpowering to my superhuman senses. Sweaty, with warm dirt and freshly crushed blades of grass stuck to him…and absolutely covered in his father’s aroma. A wild intermingling of earthy and masculine scent that bypasses any hope I have for self-control and drives a single, powerful snort of arousal into my quickly-cupped hands.
I give a forced cough. “Sorry,” I mumble. “Smoke.”
The man grins at me, and his eyes linger on mine before he lifts one arm to sniff himself with what I’m sure is unnecessary flair. “My bad, Uncle Braam,” he says. “I forget what effect I have on you.” Before I can do more than shoot him a frown, he quickly adds, “Dad also asked when the meat will be ready?”
I pick up a pork chop and flip it over with a slap on the braai. “If your dad wants to check how long the meat has left,” I say, loudly enough for Kobus to hear me (and to unsubtly remind Zander where he is), “he can come here and check it himself.”
“His dad is pulling out a thorn, actually,” comes the testy reply, and I look over to see my brother sitting with a raised knee, holding one foot and grimacing.
I pass the tongs to Zander, who chuckles. “Who’d have guessed that the gay son would only be the second-biggest drama queen in the family, huh?” he says.
“Really?” I ask as I walk off. “Because I remember a little boy who tripped and fell on some pretty soft grass, but still came running to me with tears and a snotty nose.”
“I was three!”
“And when you’re forty-six like us, maybe you’ll have lived it down.” I nicker at my nephew, who rolls his eyes in his best Brando impersonation–the handsome fucker pulls it off, too–and head over to where my brother is sitting. The barrel-chested man is peering intently at his toe, towel wadded in his lap, and I crouch down next to him so I don’t have to speak too loudly.
“Funny thing, Kobus. I don’t have any thorn bushes.”
“Shut up,” he growls. “I know.” He’s grimacing, but the hand holding a foot is a decoy; the one gripping his shin is much tighter.
“Got a bit too rough, huh?”
“Just help me up. And get me an ice pack. Say…say you’re disinfecting the wound.”
“You know,” I note softly as I help my brother to his feet–foot–and we begin hop-stepping towards the house, “I think your son might have figured out all by himself that you’re older than him. You don’t have to insist on acting like an unbreakable twenty-something all the time.”
Kobus shoots me a furious look and I flick my ears in amusement. “Just going to amputate and Dettol,” I say brightly to Zander as we go past and make for the downstairs spare room. I ease Kobus onto the bed and go get an ice pack out of the freezer. When I return, the man is lying prone on the bed, groaning very gently with his eyes closed, the towel draped across his midriff.
I lean against the door and take in the sight. “Comfy?”
“He’s got so much fucking energy,” my brother complains. “I can’t keep up with him.”
“Don’t think you’re supposed to. He’s not a puppy. He can keep himself busy.”
“But I could. Just the other–owww.” He’s tried to sit up and only made something pop, and I walk over and press a hand firmly to his chest.
“Lie down.” I keep the hand pressed as he descends and leave it flat against those magnificent tits once he’s prostrate. He looks up at me with one raised eyebrow–a trick he’s used on me forever to get answers–and I feel my muzzle grow hot and let go. Add non-obvious blushing to the list of fantastic horse traits. “What? You….you’re hot. Are you sick?”
“I know,” he says wryly. “And no. Just the sun. Do I get ice?”
“Oh.” I sit next to his leg and press the ice pack against the problem shin, making him hiss and then groan in relief. “But really. You’ll hurt yourself badly one of these days if that’s how you carry on at the farm.”
“On the farm,” Kobus grunts, “we work. He’s too exhausted by bedtime to have the energy to do more than snore like a thunderstorm all night.” I snort and get another raised eyebrow.
“By bedtime. Do you still tuck him in?”
“Don’t be stupid.”
“No, no, it’s sweet. You guys have a terrific relationship. He makes you want to physically injure yourself, and you make sure Mr Teddy is there when he sleeps.”
“Outie Kabouter, actually.”
“Sorry, I didn’t know. Is it serious?”
Kobus swings a lazy hand in my direction. “Not Mr Teddy. Outie Kabouter.” It’s his turn to give me a stern look. “Don’t you remember? You babysat often enough. Little blue guy? Red hat?”
“Oh, shit. Ya! I did forget…”
“Mhm. He’s in a box in the barn somewhere now, I think.”
“Zander doesn’t sleep with his toys anymore, of course.”
Kobus goes quiet, staring at the ceiling. “Ya,” he sighs at last. “Gotten too old now. Not interested anymore in the things he used to be…”
I lift the ice pack and slap it down squarely on my brother’s nipples, making him hiss and barely hold back yelling a very rude word. He settles for fixing an igneous expression on me, which I disregard. “Don’t get maudlin, you big ape. You know he loves you more than anything else in the world, and your age has zero impact on that. Actually looks to me like you two have more fun than ever these days.”
Kobus pushes the ice pack off his chest and grins. “He’s so great to be around. So impulsive. Thinks he can do anything, and half the time he can. He makes me feel ten years younger. The only problem is when I forget I’m not.”
“Ya. But you’re around for him. You always have been, made of tissue paper though you may be, and touch rugby is not the measure of a man. So: enough bullshit about ‘they grow up so fast’, right? They have to, so you can get to the part where you share a beer with them and your incredibly handsome twin brother at the end of a long, dry year.” I casually flick the metal ring piercing one of the cold-perked nipples that I’ve been desperately trying to ignore since the ice pack came off. “Boop.”
The sharp intake of breath is expected, but the upward thrust of his hips and the breathy groan that accompanies it is definitely not. His nipples did not used to make him do that. Wow. I freeze, my hand still hovering over his chest as I let myself imagine a thousand impossible things. When I dare to meet my twin’s gaze, he stares back with a fierce expression as if trying to pin me to the wall. But his eyes also dip for an instant to my shirtless upper body and back. And his breathing is faster; more erratic? And he’s not said anything…
I’m used to being allowed to eye-fuck him. I’m not used to getting potential reciprocation.
Only when my hand quivers in a prelude of motion does he finally give a gruff, “No!” and cover his nipples with one arm. I put my arm down immediately, then also shuffle a bit further down the bed for good measure. Whatever is happening here, I don’t want to risk breaking the spell. But that position puts me next to his crotch, where his arcing body and other motions have shifted the towel that covered him. Exposing him. The head of his half-thickened cock is peeking out of the bottom of his swimming trunks, and once I see it, I can’t look away.
The permitted eye-fucking has never included such blatant nudity before. Not since the very last time we, well, did anything, some thirty years before. Bulges alone have been my horny harvest for years. I dare to look at his face for an instant–strangely terrified to look away from It, as though I’ll look back and find it entirely gone–but he’s just watching me, lips ever so slightly parted, making no effort whatsoever to cover himself up. He could nod and say “go for it”, but that’d be redundant at this point. Fighting a childish urge to giggle in delight, I drop my eyes and enjoy the first proper look I’ve had at my twin brother’s penis in far too long.
It’s still perfect.
He’s pretty big for a human, or it wouldn’t be sticking out. A touch over eight inches, he bragged some years ago at the bottom of five or six cans, and I hadn’t been sure if I believed him. He’d been a couple of inches less than that when we last had fun together, before I moved out, and it seemed unlikely he’d been such a late bloomer. I’m thrilled to have been wrong.
Only a couple centimetres are showing now, but that’s all I need to see to remember. The skin of it is darker than his legs, which makes the purple of his fat cockhead stand out even more. It’s half covered by his foreskin, just the top visible. I remember it fully exposed and swollen, stormy as a god’s eye, glistening with my spit and throbbing gently before me. I remember the taste of it: salt, and man. So unlike the taste of horses. So much better, too, I say: the birth of my preference for human dick over horse, probably. Certainly the birth of my ever-smouldering desire to pleasure my twin in that same way again someday. To look him in the eye as I wrap my fingers around his thick, veined shaft. Swallowing it whole, sliding him inch by inch along my tongue until the scent that I can never escape is no longer just a hint in the air but a torrent in my nostrils, my nose buried into his wiry pubes as I begin to suck…
I nicker, knowing my own desire is showing between my legs and feeling somehow pleased that I’m echoing my brother’s state. A silent appreciation of what one twin can do for another. Then I realise just how long I’ve been sitting and staring at my brother’s exposed dick, and Kobus still hasn’t said a thing. He’s not even moved. He stares at me, but he does nothing else. He’s letting me look, but maybe…
The thousand impossibilities find themselves promoted to mere improbabilities. I shiver in sudden fear as my dreams tread the line of being born, of collapsing into mortality.
Seize it.
“I…I can–“
“Braam.” One word is all it takes, and his tone–more pained than angry–shames me. My long year of need has made me more desperate than usual; I have overreached, letting wild hope dominate reality. This is not our deal. My nostrils twitch as he falls silent, and I remind myself of the agreement. You can look, but nothing more. He understands my need, even if he won’t let it go further, and just for that he’s too good a brother for me.
And so, weak and perverted horse that I am, I look. I stare. I practically drool, wishing I could pull those trunks up more, wishing I could lay my head next to my brother’s masculinity and kiss it, even wishing the worst wish–most desperate, most painful. Wishing that Kobus wasn’t my twin. Wishing that he was not even my brother. So that he could just be a man who could love me back in the way I have always loved him.
If horses had wishes…
I snort and turn my head away in time to obscure the tears. Staring impassively at the wall, I sense Kobus sitting up next to me and tugging his swimming trunks back down to cover up his dick. The ice pack is next to him, melted; he passes it to me in silence, and in silence I take it. Would it be better if he cut me off? I never know. I can’t possibly admit to him how much I depend on his little indulgence to feel okay with myself, but I tell myself he must have a sense of it. Because if he doesn’t, it means he’s not doing it out of the slightest sense of obligation, but simply out of love. Being the angel in my life without even trying, while I grow my dastardly horns.
I squeeze the melted ice pack, dripping condensation onto my shirt, then press it to my face as if to cool it before turning back to him. “So–” I clear my throat and try again. “Uh, how, how’s the leg?”
He prods it gently. “Still a bit rough.”
“I’ll get you another pack.”
I leave him with the second pack on his leg, trying to leave my thoughts about him behind as I do so. Difficult to do when my half-aroused dick is sitting like a lead pipe in my pants. I got to see a lot more than I have in ages; that has to be enough. Plus, the last thing I need is for Zander to think that this is for him.
I pause just inside the stoep door, trying to think of anything except my brother’s penis. Clouds. Fifteen times table. Ant colonies. Taxes. Water. Pools. Swimming.
Zander, soaking wet, in my pool…
I quickly push the uncomfortably horny thought–and the outrageous fantasies that instantly spawned with it–from my mind, shaking my mane in disbelief. Fuck it; I’ll go to the bar tonight and let some horse-horny idiot try to blow me. I can always finish myself off when they fail. Anything to burn off this need. My cock has more or less gone back to sleep, at least, so I slide the door open and head out to see how the kid is handling lunch.
He’s not. I check the braai and quickly turn some meat. It looks to have been alone for just a few minutes. I look around the garden, but there’s no sign. Bathroom break? “Zander?” I call. Nothing. Where the hell has he–
Footfalls behind me make me turn and find my nephew standing there like a naughty child. “All done?” he asks. His eyes slide awkwardly off me, and I narrow mine a little.
“Ya, your dad’s fine. Is the meat alright?”
“Think so.” He hurries past me and pokes it. “Looks fine.”
“I turned it already.” With his back to me, I flehmen at him, tasting his scent. His, and his father’s, and…
For fuck’s sake.
With a hard nicker, I grab his shoulder and twist him around to face me. “Give it back,” I demand, lowering my voice until it’s the horsey rumble that people seem to find intimidating.
“I didn’t do anything!” he says quickly, looking down and shuffling a foot. On balance, I guess I’d prefer that my nephew be a terrible liar than a good one, but he is particularly awful at it.
I prefer not to pull horse rank on people, but if anyone’s ever deserved it, it’s Zander. I wrap my hand firmly around his arm as he continues making weak excuses and pull him bodily after me, back into the house. He’s a fit young man, but I’m a stallion. He might as well be a chihuahua tugging back against a…well, a horse.
I push him into the dining room and close the door, then cross my arms and stare firmly at him. “What?” he mumbles, and I nicker.
“You know what. I can smell it on you.” He says nothing to that, studying my carpet intently, and I give the top of his head my best glower until he gives a huge sigh and slides a hand down the front of his pants. When it emerges, it’s gripping a horse jockstrap which I snatch from him and toss onto the table before doing my best time-to-be-an-uncle sigh.
“Zander. You said last time you wouldn’t–“
“But it’s just underwear!” he interrupts, looking up at me with a wide-eyed, deer-in-the-headlights expression that I don’t fall for.
“Ya! My underwear!”
“I–I’ll buy you a new one!”
“That’s not the–” I lower my voice, glancing back in the direction of the spare room where his father is resting, on the other side of the house. “That’s not the point,” I say. “It’s not the item, it’s whose it is.” I fix stern eyes on him. “And why you took it.”
He has the self-awareness to blush, at least, and his gaze seeks out the carpet again. I let the silence grow, forcing him to eventually speak. “You said…” He gulps, and I immediately feel shitty. He sounds like a kicked puppy, and I’m the one lowering my hoof. “You said there was nothing wrong with the feelings. If I didn’t do anything about it with…him. A-and I didn’t! But, lately…ugh.” He twists his head, looking unhappily off to the side with a sniffle. “We’ve just gotten closer. More hugging, more touching. You saw it today. He’ll play-tackle me, and I’ll do it back. I love it, but it’s…it’s hard. I don’t want to stop hanging out with him, but I’m worried I’m gonna…”
I pull him into a hug, letting him sniffle against my coat as I mentally berate myself for forgetting who I’m dealing with. Zander looks every inch the confident, worldly young man, but in a lot of ways, he’s still a kid. Not far into his twenties, raised by a single father, still living at home on a farm, semi-alone. Blessed with a heart big enough to have love to spare for everyone he meets…and cursed with one big enough to drown himself in.
“I understand, Zander,” I say gently. More than you know. I disentangle us and have him sit down next to me at the table, patting his hand. “You’ve done well with a tough situation. Don’t feel bad.”
He sighs, and his downcast expression shaves ten years off his face. Suddenly, I’m once more sitting across from an anxious thirteen-year-old who somehow found the balls to tell his uncle not only that he, too, is gay, but that he’s been having feelings about his father. And just like every time since then that we’ve had a variation on this conversation, I feel an awkward mixture of empathy and guilt at hearing my own well-meaning advice echoed back at me by someone doing his best to actually follow it. It’s alright to feel these things. You can’t do anything about that. But you can’t act on them. Advice I ignored in an instant when I thought I had a chance.
On a whim, I push my crumpled jockstrap back towards him. “If taking my underwear helps, then take it.”
He smiles wanly. “Nah, it–it’s yours. I shouldn’t take your things.”
“You’re not taking it anymore. I’m giving it to you.” I meet his eyes and nicker. “Or maybe you’d prefer a cumstained one?”
His mouth drops open in shock, and I pat his hand to calm him as he tries to stammer out something. “I’m not blind, Zander. You’ve always been flirty, which was fine, but lately, you’ve been really flirty. Did you notice?” He shakes his head slowly, beet-red. “The armpit thing earlier, for example? But it’s alright, I understand. I’m a horse, you’re young, and we’re both gay. With things as they are with your dad, it all makes sense.” I smile and soften my tone. “If it gives you an outlet for the feelings, I can handle it.”
His blush hasn’t faded, and it makes him look impossibly adorable as he mumbles, “I do kinda like like you though, Uncle Braam…”
I pat the side of his face. “How sweet. You’re just saying that because of my huge horse penis.”
“Horses are fucking hot.”
“I know.” He grins and licks at my hand, then giggles when I dry it by rubbing the top of his head. “Now,” I say sternly, pointing at him until he meets my eyes, “fun’s fun and all, but don’t let it get out of control, alright? The jokes are fine, and some light flirting. But no touching, and keep it all in your pants if your dad’s around.”
“So I can let it out when he’s not?”
“Naughty boy. Behave.” He gives me a saucy look that probably works to get almost anyone into bed with him, and I chuckle, trying to work out why it feels so good talking to Zander like this. He’s very attractive, but that’s not it. I’m terrible at taking my own advice when it comes to Kobus, but with Zander, I’ve always known that the boundary line is very obvious: don’t try to fuck your brother’s son. No, this feeling is different. It’s tied into the love I feel for the kid, but with some other element that feels familiar in a way I just can’t pin down–until Zander lets out a low, slow whistle of untensed stress and lifts his arms, combing each hand through his hair in an unconscious action that is exactly the same as one his father does. Understanding unfurls in my mind.
It’s because he looks just like Kobus.
Or at least how Kobus did, back when my twin and I were still being intimate. My incestual lust for him would only grow during the times when we’d lie together in bed after sex, exchanging intimate, filthy words about what we’d just done. I loved that almost more than the sex. The inimitable feeling of being seen and understood by someone who you knew just got it. No fumbling explanations, no shameful admissions. Just a shared emotional state to be at peace inside of.
It’s been so long, I realise suddenly, since I could talk frankly and joke about my feelings. Though, of course, they’re not mine, as far as my nephew knows; only his. And as I watch him smile and talk about how he went upstairs to take my underwear because he’d gotten turned on from roughhousing with his dad, I realise…it’s New Year’s Eve. A liminal time. A time for resolutions and fresh beginnings. And why not? Zander’s quite a bit older now than the last time he and I spoke about this. Definitely more mature. He’ll understand…and maybe getting it off my chest will give me the same relief I’ve given him.
“Zander,” I interrupt him. “There’s something…” Wow, it really doesn’t flow off the tongue. “Uh, your dad…”
The human’s expression draws into a frown. “What? Dad? Is he okay?” He makes to get up and go to him, and I quickly grab his hand.
“Ya, no, no, he’s fine! Just, uh, hurt his shin.”
“His shin? With a thorn?”
“He didn’t want you to…ugh, this isn’t…” I take a deep breath and grip my nephew’s hand with both of mine. “Zander. Your dad’s fine. There’s just something I think you should know. About me.”
“I already know you’re gay, Uncle Braam.”
“Yes, but…not that. You remember when you came to me to tell me about how you feel? Ten years ago. And I told you it wasn’t something to be upset about, and that I understood.” He nods, and I steel myself. “Well, I had a good reason for saying that. Because…I also like your dad.”
Zander stares uncomprehendingly for a few seconds, and then his eyebrows shoot up. “You–?”
“I like like him, ya.”
The man stares at me in silence, and I can hear my heart thumping in my ears as I slowly withdraw my hands from his. I’m ready to hear any number of responses; queries, disbelief, even recrimination…but instead he just nervously says four words.
“I spy on him.”
My heart stops dead for what feels like an eternity. “W-what?”
“When he showers. In the morning.”
You shouldn’t, I mean to say, but it comes out as “ysnhgf”. He pauses, looking at me, but I don’t say anything else. Because as much as I think he and I shouldn’t be talking about this, the part of me that was stymied in its desires with Kobus earlier really wants him to continue. And he does.
“I watch him in the mirror while I’m brushing my teeth or shaving. He never seems to notice how long it’s taking me. He just stands there, soaping up that big, beautiful body…” My nephew lets out a breath. “And that big, beautiful dick.”
I nicker and gulp, making Zander chuckle and settle in his chair. “I think he feels himself up, too. He grabs his nuts and cock and rubs the soap in, but slowly. Turns away from the mirror, so I just see his hand moving, but also lets me see that gorgeous ass.” He groans and shakes his head. “I want him to just sit on my face. For hours. I want to eat Dad out until I make him cum…”
He cums so much. You’d love it.
I’m breathing fast as my memory fills in the fine details of Zander’s description, my flared nostrils making Zander smile at how into it I am. I’m too afraid to push him for more in case this fragile, horny spell gets broken. But, oh, do I want him to. “I spy on him jerking off, too,” he boasts.
“Oh, fuck…!”
I can’t stop the words or the lustful tone, and they cement the reality of what’s happening between us. Zander noticeably relaxes, leaning forward–eyes bright–and nods. “He does it in the barn, so I don’t walk in on him somewhere in the house.” Zander’s pert lips part, and I see the tip of his tongue just behind his perfect teeth. “There’s a small gap in the boards at the back, though. I watch him. He has an old blanket that he throws over a bale of hay. Always takes off his pants first, then sits down with his legs spread so his big bull balls hang over the edge. Fuck.” Zander bites his lip. “He’s usually half-hard already, and he leans back with one arm, eyes closed, and slowly jerks off with the other until he’s stiff as he gets. Then he…” My nephew stops talking and smiles slyly. “Should I continue?”
I only trust myself with a nod.
“He’s so thick when he’s hard, Uncle Braam. Long, too, but thick. I’ve dreamed about his dick being inside me so many times. I know I shouldn’t, I know what you said, but I can’t stop the fantasies. You too?” I don’t move, don’t speak, don’t blink, but he knows–and smirks. “He’s a fucking stud, Uncle Braam. You saw him today.”
I have to wet my tongue before I can say anything. “The…the piercings…”
Zander moans and wipes his hands down his face. “Fuuuuuck. I don’t know why he even got those. He just said he felt like it. I want to play with them so badly. His nipples get so stiff when he’s turned on. He uses both hands to jerk off, one rubbing his head and one stroking his shaft.” Like a horse. I showed him how to do that. “And when he cums, it’s just this…fountain.” He makes a spraying motion with his fingers. “All over the floor. Wasted.” He shoots me an eager look. “Do you cum a lot, Uncle Braam?”
“I’m a stallion.” I don’t want to make this about me, but it’s a known fact. He just wants to hear me say it. “We all do.”
“Just like Dad, then. Proper twins.” He’s looking at me the same way he did earlier when I smelled him. I shouldn’t let him, but it’s too late now. “I think it’s so fucking hot that you’re twins, Uncle Braam. I’ve fantasised about both of you working me over at the same time.” He leans into me. “Wouldn’t that be hot, Uncle Braam? Fucking me and letting Dad fuck me after? I’m a great lay, Uncle Braam; you’ve seen my ass. And Dad is…Dad.”
It would be beyond hot, but I can’t tell him that. It’s too close to reality. Too close to letting myself be weak and making a huge mistake. It’s just words now, and it has to stay as just words. But I don’t think I’m doing a great job of hiding how I feel, and my nephew’s beautiful face is just fucking begging to have my dick shoved right down that pretty-boy throat until he’s gagging on my flare and–
I grit my teeth and breathe steadily, very aware of the throbbing in my pants and trying not to visualise facefucking my brother’s son. Zander leans back a little, and I suddenly wonder if he’s trying to push me into doing something. I may have gone too far, letting this play out…but even as I think it, I know I’m lying to myself. The excitement trilling just beneath my skin is electric, the height of fantasy. We’re on a knife edge between memory and action, and I don’t want it to stop. He’s silent now, looking at me, but I can tell he’s got something else he wants to say. He’s deliberately holding something back. Something that must be even better than the rest.
I have to stop this.
“Zander,” I say, my tongue feeling thick in my mouth. “That…that’s enough.”
He pouts. “Isn’t that why you told me your secret, though, Uncle Braam? To hear stories? To share?”
I want to say no, but it obviously is by now. I could have stopped it at any point if I wanted to. But I don’t, because it’s hot…and fun. I wanted frank talk, and talk doesn’t get any franker than hearing my nephew talk about perving on his father. A single glance at my pants will prove how much I’m enjoying it. I gasp when his hand suddenly grabs mine, tight and hot, and doesn’t let go.
“I can’t escape him, Uncle Braam. His scent…it’s just everywhere.” He groans and moves about, and I realise he’s rubbing himself through his jeans with his other hand. “The house is one huge fucking musk machine. I’m turned on all the fucking time, Uncle Braam. Was it the same with you? Fuck, you lived in the same room for quite a while, didn’t you?” His expression turns eager; feral. So much like Kobus when he needed me. “Did you guys ever do anything together? Like, jerk off?”
For one untamed second, I’m about to tell him everything. The truth of what his father and I did on those many dark nights, just to see the lust on his son’s face and imagine for a second that it’s not Zander murmuring filthy things to me, but Kobus. To be as close as I ever can be to how things were.
But Zander interrupts with words that stun me into silence. “I have,” he says softly. “I’ve tasted his dick.” His hand lands on my leg, but I barely notice. I’m trying to process that incredible sentence. Trying to summon the strength to be a hypocrite and tell him he shouldn’t have done that. Trying not to feel insanely, impossibly jealous.
I fail.
“H-how did–?”
“My birthday party,” Zander says. “He ate a lot, and drank too. Passed out on the couch by ten PM.” He squeezes my leg and moves up a centimetre. “I was cleaning up. Bent down to pick something up and saw up his pants. I don’t think he ever wears underwear. His cock was…right there. I couldn’t look away. Stared at it for ages. Said his name, even. He didn’t wake up. I know how he is with carbs. So I…got closer. Just to look. But then I could smell it. I’ve never smelled anything so good.” His eyes are distant as he remembers, but he’s still rubbing himself. “He was a bit hard, I guess. Enough that his cockhead stuck out from his foreskin.” Unbidden, the fresh memory of that exact sight fills my mind. I feel as though I’m drifting out of myself as he continues to speak.
“I just pulled the leg of his pants up a bit, and it was right there. The perfect shape. I wanted to blow him so badly, but I was worried that would wake him. So I just leaned in and…licked the tip.” He licks his lips. “The most delicious fucking thing I’ve ever tasted in my life. He must have jerked off recently. It was salty, like cum. I was terrified he would wake up, but I couldn’t stop. I licked it again and again, even sucked on the tip a tiny bit. I would have blown him right there, Uncle Braam.” He fixes me with a hungry look. “I would have taken his whole cock in my mouth and sucked him off until he blew in my mouth, and begged him to fuck me right after. But he moved in his sleep, and I got scared. Left before he woke up. Went to my room. Fucked myself on my biggest dildo and imagined it was Dad…and you.”
His hand has been inching slowly up my leg as he speaks, but when it gets high enough that his fingers brush along my painfully hard cock, the spell breaks. I gasp and push my chair backwards, pulling free. “Uh,” I stammer, getting to my feet, “the, uh…” I point in silence, deserted by language, as Kobus–Braam!–stares intently at me. “Fire. Meat! Go…go check the meat. Uh. Please.”
I hurry out of the dining room and head to the one place I know Zander won’t follow right now: the spare room, where his dad is resting. Kobus has fallen asleep, and I slip in and push the door mostly shut before daring to let out my breath. “Fuuuuuck…”
Only seconds removed from my horny nephew and his stories, part of me is already screaming to go back and listen to more. To do more. I’ve had far more intense experiences with Kobus, but it was so long ago. The idea of his hot son being in a state of near-constant lust around him right now–every day!–to the point that he’s started stealing glimpses of him naked or jerking off…
Or licking his sleeping dick? Fuck. My jealousy is unbounded.
I slide a hand down my pants to try to ease the ache, gripping my shaft and flehmening unconsciously, which just makes Kobus’ scent shoot straight into my brain. The room stinks beautifully of him by now, and my head spins. I don’t remember his scent being this potent back in the day. His smell was male, then, certainly; young and soaked in desire. But now, in this enclosed space, it’s so much richer. The sweat of exertion overlaid on fresh hay and dirt. A hint of ancient aftershave and the musk of hot groin. A powerful scent, one practically tailor-made to make me weak.
But then, I was always the weak one. That’s our dynamic.
Time has eroded away the fine detail of our interactions, turning the statuary of worship into coarse blocks of need. Staring at his sleeping face and uncovered body as I fondle myself doesn’t bring any of it back, but it does remind me of how I would feel when he dominated me. I was physically his superior until the very end of puberty; my horse genes pushed me relentlessly towards bulk and strength. Still, from the start, there was never any doubt that Kobus was the captain of our little team.
I think he enjoyed having a brother so capable of dominating any physical situation because the wild capers and adventures he kept sending us on would have been twice as risky if I were merely human. For my part, I adored him. He was so fun to be around, quick-witted and eager to try new things. Maybe I wanted to be like him; I don’t remember. I just know I happily did anything he suggested. Trying a cigarette, or shoplifting a pack of gum…or the rest.
What was the instigating event? Maybe he’d noticed me looking, or I’d noticed him. Or in my bottomless equine lust I’d risked a touch that led to more…? I can’t recall. The memories are of the fragments that came after. We became one another’s sexual playgrounds, quickly discovering what we each did and didn’t like to do. And as it turned out, the same dynamic that worked so well for us outside the bedroom worked just as well in it. Soon I’d spend days thinking about nothing except the next opportunity we’d have to fuck.
Being dominated by my brother over and over again showed me who I truly was. I don’t remember every single fuck, but, like a short film made of similar yet disjoint parts, I remember themes. The hoarse grunting when he was on top of me. Eager fingers that would slide into my sheath and grip the skin. Fierce, blue eyes. The hand he would wrap around my throat as he fucked me. A hundred hands, one after the other. Soft-skinned but firm; as good a metaphor as any for the grip he had on my entire being. By the end, a simple tightening of that grip was all it took to make me cry out and cum, spraying my seed wildly over his chest hair or into the towels we’d have to spread liberally under us. I remember telling him that I was content to be his fucktoy for the rest of our lives.
And then it ended.
He said it was just a phase; I think he got guilty. Either way, it stopped, and like any addict, I couldn’t cope with the cold turkey. I begged him, I wept. I offered to do things I wouldn’t even consider doing now. But it was over.
He did, at least, understand how hurt I felt. I got something; some sexual methadone. You can look. If I didn’t touch and if I didn’t make things awkward, I could look. He wouldn’t be putting on a strip show for me or anything, but if he walked out of the shower in a towel or something, he wouldn’t stop me from drinking my fill. And I have done, every chance I got, in the long decades since. I like to think I’ve gotten better. Sometimes it’s months between thinking about him, longer if I’m getting my balls drained regularly. It was a surprise to discover that I didn’t like it when other men dominated me. Which works out, since most humans want the full dom stallion experience. That other side of me, it seems, is just for my brother. If he ever wants to use it again.
Unlikely.
I pant and let go of my cock, my arousal suddenly doused by the memory of our earlier awkward encounter. The détente is unchanged, even when I overstep the mark. The horse only gets to look…
“Thinking about me?”
I start, pulling my hand from my pants as Kobus speaks. His eyes are still closed, but I hadn’t noticed his breathing pattern change from sleep to wakefulness. “Uh…”
His eyes open and regard me with an emotion I can’t place, before he swings his legs off the bed and stands. Like I’m not even there, he fishes his khaki shorts from the floor and then very casually shucks off his swimming trunks.
My lungs freeze, as if he’s a skittish animal I can’t risk startling. But he knows exactly what he’s doing, because he looks squarely at me as his hands find the right orientation for his shorts–and then waits, letting me see him fully naked for the first time in years.
Fucking fuck, he’s so hot.
The silver streaks in his chest hair haven’t reached his crotch yet. He still sports the pitch-black forest I remember, though the cock hanging from it has definitely grown since our encounters. Zander was right: he’s fucking thick. And a shower. I’ll be shocked if he’s less than seven inches soft. A couple of hairy balls peek out around it, almost a match for mine and just as productive. I suddenly remember the time I did nothing but lick and suck on them for hours. Their taste never seemed to fade, and his crotch smell was in my nose the entire time. Right between those enormous thighs–kept as massive as they are by all the manual labour he does, no doubt. Or all the holes he fucks. Fuck, I miss it. I miss him. This little display is making my balls ache. What is this, suddenly, after all these years? Is…
Is this an invitation?
I get my answer the moment I make as though to move forward. “No,” he snaps commandingly, and I fall back against the wall with a pant and a thud, as if he’d pushed me. His words still have that power over me, then. Of course it’s not an invitation. He’s soft. Though I do recall that he often was, in the latter days. Like he enjoyed the act of controlling me more than any physical release.
I watch him dress, each leg lifting in turn, making his generous genitals flop and swing. No underwear. I’m hard now, as obviously hard as he isn’t, but I don’t even try to touch myself. His crotch vanishes behind khaki and I finally release my breath, then hold the next one as he approaches me with shirt in hand. I don’t know what to expect when he reaches for me, but when the fingers settle around my throat, I struggle to keep enough strength in my legs to remain upright. The touch isn’t rough; quite the opposite. His thumb even strokes my skin a little. But the suggestion is there, a physical memory of how things were.
“Thinking about me?” he repeats, softer and huskier. My cock jerks wildly as my flare swells immediately to its full size. He could ask me to get on all fours and let him fuck me with a porkchop right now, and I’d accede instantly.
“Ya.”
“Mmmh.” My twin’s bestial growl makes me nicker like a nervous mare, and the slow tightening of his fingers makes my flehmen rise as my hands curl against the wall, making fists around the bedsheets that aren’t there. My eyes flutter shut as my nares open wide, snorting in air soaked in his scent. My flare pulses, untouched, and in shock I realise how close I am.
“K-Kobus…” I nicker. I’m struggling to make words, and it’s not from lack of air. “I’m…I…”
The hand goes limp, then slides down my neck and away. I gasp and open my eyes to see him slipping his shirt on, all the while giving me a tempestuous look that makes my fetlocks shiver. “Lunchtime,” he says at last, with a smile, and opens the door. I hear him calling for Zander outside, but I’m still trying to process what just happened. My cock is painfully hard; precum has run all the way down my inner thigh. I want to take myself in hand and milk out the furious orgasm I’ve just been denied…but I know I can’t. It’s not mine to have, not now. If Kobus denied it to me, then it must stay denied.
Even after all these years, I’m still my twin brother’s bitch.
I’m somewhat tense when I eventually follow Kobus back outside, after a brief intermission to let my cock calm down as much as it can. Zander has dished up the meat and is waiting for us at the table, feet up on a chair. He smiles and all but eye-fucks me when his father’s looking the other way, but that’s all. Kobus, meanwhile, acts like nothing happened. As the two of them chatter and I slowly sink into a chair, I can almost believe I dreamed it all.
Until I shift and feel the dampness down my leg.
The meal goes off without a hitch, which is to say I manage to not cum in my pants at sitting so close to the man who almost made me ejaculate by skin contact alone. My conversation with Zander would have made things interesting enough all by itself, but the unexpected encounter with my brother has pushed everything well into what the fuuuuuuck territory. I laugh and smile, if thinly, engaging in banter and conversation, all the while methodically putting food into my mouth and trying to order my thoughts. They’re due to leave this evening. Then I can take stock of this crazy day. Starting with the biggest fucking wank of my life.
Lunch doesn’t exactly end, but merges into biltong and drinks as the afternoon wanes. Alcohol helps take the edge off, and by the time the sun dips behind the trees, I feel reasonably relaxed. Considering. Sure, when I meet Kobus’ eyes, I still get the feeling they’re lingering, and Zander looks like a kid who just got a new toy for Christmas, but I’m helpless to do anything. What could I even do? Hey, bro, want to fit in a quick fuck before we go? Your son would love to watch, by the way. Replaying Zander’s stories, and the fresh memory of my brother’s hand on my neck, has kept me half-dropped in my pants all afternoon. I’ve had to evade being the one to fetch more drinks twice already to avoid standing up. But the sun’s almost set. I can make it. I just have to stare at these two handsome, massively fuckable members of my family for a short while longer.
I’m considering if I should take Kobus aside before he leaves and ask just what his behaviour means for us when contact against my foot makes me jump. My eyes shoot up; Kobus is halfway through a story, looking off to the side, but Zander is staring directly at me with a deliciously insouciant smirk. I twitch my eyes to his father and back, frowning, but the young man shrugs with clear meaning. He won’t know.
I could pull my foot away…but I’m horny. Weak. Kobus has left me in a state of unrequired neediness, and the attentions of his handsome lookalike son are harder to ignore after everything that’s happened. I feel his toes stroking just above my hoof, and it feels good. Human feet are so flexible. I let the young man continue and look at Kobus, who just finished his story.
“So. House is still empty, huh?” he asks, finishing his beer and looking up at the house behind me.
“Huh?” I say, trying to remember what he’s just been saying. Talking about…a woman he met? Or broke up with? “Uh…ya.”
“Nobody you’ve got your eye on? A bed-warmer, or someone more permanent?” I pause, uncertain about my brother’s intent with the question. He’s opened another beer and is drinking it slowly, eyes boring into me from under dark brows.
“Nah.” I throw in a shrug, too. Why not.
He swallows a mouthful of beer and burps politely. “You should,” he says. “Don’t like seeing you all alone, Braam.”
I stare back in mild shock. Is he suggesting…?
“I’ve met someone,” Zander interrupts brightly, and I feel a pillar of cold descend through me. His foot’s still rubbing mine. “Well, maybe.”
His father considers him with a smile. “Really? When did this happen?”
I try to scream a silent “no!” with every fibre of my being before the kid responds. “Couple weeks back,” he says, and I sag. He has a brain. “Met in town when I was out drinking one night. Seems nice.”
“Well, at least one of the Tunns is having luck in romance.” My twin clinks his son’s beer can with his own. “Have him out to the farm sometime for dinner. Remember, I have to approve anyone you want to get serious with.”
“Daaaad!” Zander does his Brando impression again, and Kobus chuckles and smiles indulgently at him. Even I have to chuckle–but that dies in my throat the instant I feel contact against my other foot.
“You’re a good-looking man, son,” Kobus says in mock gruffness, “and it’s up to me to make sure that you’re not being taken advantage of by someone who only wants your dick.” For an instant, I think it might be Zander’s other foot, but the angle is all wrong. It’s definitely Kobus.
“What if I’m using him for his?” Zander asks. His toes are pressing more intently against me as he spars with his father, and I try to keep my nares from flaring in panic. When I fantasised about being trapped between two sexy Tunn men, this isn’t what I’d had in mind.
“Oh!” Kobus says, “Ya, that’s fine then. Still bring them for dinner, though. I need to meet them so that they know who will be fucking them up if they treat you badly.” His foot rides up my fetlock and I shiver at the feel of five toes wrapping around me. Then Zander starts to do the same on the other log, and it gets too much. I cough and sit back in my chair as an excuse to pull my legs back. Both men shoot me looks–and then Zander jumps and gasps at the same time as his father snaps his head around to look, wide-eyed, at his son.
A terrible feeling coalesces inside me. Oh. Shit.
Neither of them says anything for the longest few seconds in existence, but then Zander looks away from his father’s stunned face to give me a look of utter betrayal, tears brimming in his eyes, pouty lip quivering. Before either of us react, he pushes himself to his feet and runs into the house, slamming the door behind him. We hear him burst into tears indoors, and the next thing I know Kobus has all but overturned the table in his bull-rush to reach me and lift me bodily out of my seat, snorting hotly and extremely unsexily into my face.
“WHAT DID YOU DO?” he roars. His face is a mask of fury.
“N-nothing!” I yelp, panicked.
“Are you fucking my son?!” He shakes me so violently that I nearly bite my tongue as my teeth clack hard together.
“No! No! I swear!”
He throws me back down into my chair and grabs my muzzle, making me look directly at him. “Don’t fucking move,” he snarls, pushing my face down before hurrying inside. I lie sprawled in the seat, too afraid to move. The sound of blood in my ears drowns out almost everything else, and I feel like I’m hyperventilating. Oh–I am.
I hear Kobus hammering on a closed door with his fist and saying something to Zander. I can’t hear if the kid responds, but the hammering resumes. I drop my head into my hands and groan. “This can’t be happening…” The awful reality, disinterested in my version of events, continues to persist, as does the muffled hammering inside. When it stops, I look up to see Kobus–purple with apoplexy–storming back out. I get to my feet and back away, hands up in defence.
“What have you done!?” he screams at me, his hands curled into fists.
“Nothing! Nothing! I just listened!” I can’t decide if the thought of having to tell him about his son’s feelings is more horrible than the idea of being punched in the face. “He–I just–listen, listen–!”
The rest of my words–and any potential assault–are cut short by me stepping back one final step and finding only air beneath my hoof. I topple into the pool with a cry, managing a breath before the water closes over me. When I push myself back to the surface, however, I find that Kobus–undeterred–has leapt in after me. He grabs my sodden shirt and slams me against the side of the pool, eyes ablaze. I cough and press weakly against his chest, like a sparrow trying to stop a train, as fear and chlorine water finally untie my tongue.
“Kobus!” I splutter. “Kobus! Wait! I…did nothing! It’s him! He’s…he’s like you! Like us!”
My twin’s eyes dart madly between mine. “What? What the fuck does that mean?”
I heave for air. “Za…Zander. He…” I gesture between the two of us with a finger as I pant. “He likes you. And me. He likes likes you.”
For a few seconds, the only sounds are our heavy breathing and water droplets dripping from our bodies back into the pool. Kobus looks poleaxed, and my shirt slips free of his nerveless fingers–only to be immediately gripped again. “You–!” he begins, but I’ve gathered enough breath to cut him off.
“I just listened! He was scared, Kobus. He came to me for advice. I told him”–the grip on my shirt tightens, and I raise my voice–“I told him not to do anything! I told him I understood, but that’s all. That’s all!” I lower my volume again. “He doesn’t know about us. I swear. I never said anything. He’s just got a crush on me. That’s all. A crush. He flirts because I’m safe and you’re…well…”
Kobus’ hands release me again as I trail off, and he splashes backwards to land on a pool step with a sudden exhalation, looking doubly poleaxed. I sit down next to him, stomach churning, and put a wet arm around him. “We’ll say it was a joke. Brotherly playfulness. He–“
My brother’s face crumples and he begins sobbing. “What am I going to do?” he says between breaths. I wrap my other arm around him as well and hug him against my breast.
“Kobus. It’s just how he is. He’s a great kid, and he’s been handling this for ten years already and you didn’t even know. He’s got it figured out! Has me to talk to about it, and I can handle the flirting, alright? It’ll never be more than that. He’s gonna move out soon anyway, too, and–“
“He’ll never be happy,” he says flatly, lifting his head to stare at the other side of the pool.
“He’s already happy! He loves you–uh, platonically too, I mean–and he’s just met someone else. Why would you…?”
“Because I’m not.” I have no answer for the look of desperate sadness Kobus gives me. “If he’s like me–if I made a son just like me–he’ll never really be happy. Even if he tries. Not with anyone else.”
Kobus’ face drops against mine, and he kisses me. My lips part automatically at the rough touch of his beard, and his tongue entwines with mine in the old familiar way. I gasp at the shock of it, breathing him in as he breathes in me in turn. His hand holds the side of my face tightly, like he’s afraid I’ll pull away, but that’s never been a possibility. My only fight is to control myself, to not just push him down and let him mount me right here in furious rut. I have to push him away after only a few seconds, my self-control already in tatters. “Kobus…I…Zander’s still…”
He cries again, hands shaking where they cup my face. “Help me, Braam,” he begs, sniffling. “I’m so scared for him. Help me.”
“I will,” I say, hugging him again, fiercely. “It’ll be alright. Come.”
We exit the pool, two bedraggled fogeys, and I wrap a towel around Kobus and lead him inside. The door to the spare room is closed, and as we approach I hear soft crying inside.
“Zander?” I say. The crying stops. “Zander? I’m, uh, here with your dad. Can…can we come in?” I try the door, but it’s locked from the inside.
“You lied,” comes a plaintive voice from under the door, and I quickly speak up.
“Your dad didn’t lie, Zander. It’s just a misunder–“
“Not him. You!”
Kobus frowns at me, and I shrug, feeling queasy. “I’m sorry if I hurt you, kiddo,” I say carefully, “but I would never lie to you.”
“You’re doing it now! You’ve been lying to me the whole–!”
“Zander!” Kobus says loudly, cutting his son off. “Zander. I know.”
There’s deathly silence, and my heart pounds loudly enough that I imagine everyone can hear it. I don’t know if that was the right call. What if Zander asks about us? They still have to live together; this is going to make it very awkward. Fuck…what if Zander can’t move out in the end? How is–?
There’s a click as the door unlocks, and Zander opens the door, sniffing and wiping his tear-streaked face. He’s slumped and afraid, looking like a heartbroken teenager again, but he still manages to meet my eyes with an expression of utter betrayal.
“I trusted you,” he whines, and my heart breaks.
“I had to tell him,” I say weakly, but Zander grimaces as if in pain and shakes his head, crying again.
“No! No! You said…” He points a shaking finger at me, fitting the words between sniffles. “You said there’s nothing wrong with it. But you said he couldn’t know. A-and I trusted you! But y-you…” His shaking finger becomes a fist. “You just wanted him for yourself!”
He screams the last word into my face, then pulls in a juddering breath and falls back against the door frame, holding himself as he cries bitterly. I’m crying as well now, out of my sheer inability to know what to do or say. This is completely fucked. And Kobus is just standing next to me, impassive as stone–until he takes a single step forward and reaches for Zander.
The young man flinches, but his father just slides a hand around his neck and pulls him gently in for a hug. Zander resists for a moment, then folds and collapses against his father, face buried in his chest, sobbing and shivering as Kobus holds him tight, his cheek resting on the top of his son’s head, eyes squeezed shut.
“I’m s-sorry, Dad, ” Zander stammers. “I t-tried to be pretty for you, b-but I c-can’t be a horse…”
“No, son, no, no,” Kobus says softly. A tear runs down his cheek. “You’re perfect. You’re gorgeous.” He kisses Zander’s head, then pulls back a little to look him in the eye as he strokes his cheek. “If I’d known…” he says thickly, and my heart breaks a second time, “if I’d known…I’d have told you myself. About us. The past.” He takes a few quick, shallow breaths, and Zander’s lips quiver as he waits. “There is nothing wrong with it, son. Your uncle was right. Don’t blame him. But this…us…that isn’t a way to be happy. I know; I tried.” He looks at me with a crushed expression. “I tried, and I couldn’t…I…” He squeezes his eyes closed again and shakes his head, and Zander puts his hands on his father’s cheeks to stop him as I begin choking up.
“I’m already happy, Dad,” Zander says, blinking the tears away. “I am. What we have, it’s…”
“I know it doesn’t make sense…”
“It does, Dad. I love you, Dad, and I love love you. And that’s all I need.” He looks over at me as I sniffle and snort like an old mare, and I see comprehension in his eyes. “It’s just who we are.”
That’s when I break down entirely. When Kobus spreads a silent arm, I take a huge step forward and join them, wrapping myself tightly around the humans I love and hugging them until I feel my heart might explode. Kobus keeps saying “I’m sorry” and “I love you”, kissing us on the head, cheeks, hands. And we say it back, letting the emotions free after decades, and the tears soak into our skins and coats and manes.
We end up sitting on the edge of the bed, me and Zander and Kobus, still hugging and wiping away the last tears. Kobus rests a hand on his son’s leg, patting it as he quietly recounts the years of our intimacy. I’ve never heard him speak of it like this even to me, let alone someone else. It hurts a little, but the hurt is being salved by the growing realisation that he never stopped feeling for me what I felt for him.
“I was too happy with him,” he says finally, looking at me apologetically. “Too comfortable. I got afraid. I thought that if I was happy with Braam, I couldn’t be happy with someone else–but that he might. He was this tall, handsome stallion, getting all the looks, and I was just some guy. I was terrified that I would just keep falling more and more in love with him, until the day he moved on and I lost my twin and my lover. I couldn’t face that, so I just…ended it. Tried to make him think I’d lost interest. Told him he could keep looking, making out like I didn’t care.”
He sighs. “The first thing I did was go out and try to find someone else to fill the massive hole in my heart. Met your mom and thought going for the other side of bi would make me able to move on from your uncle. Thirty years later…” He smiles wryly and counts statements on his fingers. “She’s not around anymore, he is, and I’m flirting with him to hide how turned on my son makes me.” Zander flushes bright pink and bites his lip. “So. Guess that answers that.”
“I never knew,” Zander says.
“Well, good. I worked hard to make sure. Even found a way to not get hard around you, in case.”
“What? How?”
“Imagined I was ordering your uncle around.” Zander laughs, and Kobus smiles. “It’s not worked so well lately though. Being so close to you. Had to use the towel to hide a hard-on after you sat on me earlier.”
“So you let me win?”
“Of course.” He ruffles his son’s hair, but then his smile fades. “It frightened me. I thought you’d find out, and then…you’d hate me. And leave. And Braam already has his own life, so…I’d be alone.”
I reach across and squeeze his leg. “I’ll always be here for you, Kobus,” I say.
“Me too, Dad,” Zander says, nodding fiercely.
The tall man grips his son’s leg and squeezes, looking at both of us. “Better men than me, both of you,” he says gruffly, then chuckles. “And Braam’s not even a man.” I snort at him, and he blows me a kiss.
Zander looks between the two of us. “So…will you guys get together again?”
My brother and I look at each other, exchanging silent agreement. “No,” Kobus admits. “That was a different time. Your uncle has his work, and I’ve got the farm, and…” He trails off and frowns as Zander sniggers. “What?”
“You’re so serious, Dad.” He imitates his father. “That was a different time…”
“Oh, so sorry, son,” he grumbles. “Should I be more dismissive about the difficulties of reigniting a serious relationship with my twin?”
“No! It’s just…” He sighs and puts a hand on each of our legs. “You guys have had three decades to figure this out. It’s not that hard. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. You already fucked Uncle Braam! Like, a lot! What about me? I thought you were excluding me before, and it hurt so much. So now you have to include me. Or I’ll cry again.” He fakes a pout, and I snort.
“But we can’t just–” Kobus begins to say. Zander silences his father by the simple expedient of pulling his face closer and kissing him deeply, their tongues meshing wetly, making me nicker excitedly. Zander’s hand finds mine and pulls it to his crotch, letting me grope his rapidly hardening cock as he tongues his father.
The young man breaks off the kiss, licking his lips and moaning as I fondle him, then smiling at his father. “We can, Dad. Easily. Just stop jerking off in the barn, and fuck my brains out instead. Stud.” He flexes his crotch and gives me a lusty look. “Both of you. Ya? Because I’m a slut, alright? I love sucking dick and I love being fucked. I’ve had just about every dick in town, and it’s still not enough. It never could be. I want you. And Uncle Braam.”
When Kobus still pauses–with an extremely torn expression–Zander leans into him.
“Dad,” he murmurs, stroking the big man’s chest and making him shudder as fingers trip across his piercings, “If I could marry you, I’d make you put the cock ring on me right now. I dreamed about doing that for so many years. But I understand that’s not how this is.” He taps Kobus on the nose, making him snort slightly in amusement. “Ya, it is funny. Because you know what I realised?” He looks at both of us and chuckles. “We’re already family. I don’t need a husband. I already have a horse uncle and a horse-dicked dad. So…” His hand trails down from his father’s chest to the obvious bulge in his pants, grasping and squeezing. “Let’s just fuck, Dad,” he says huskily. “All day, every day. Let’s fuck from sunrise until the cows come home. And if I meet someone someday, or you do…whatever. I don’t know.” His hand releases Kobus’ cock and slides into his underwear, making both of them moan. “Let’s worry about it then. I just know that, right now, I’m tired of being fucked by men who aren’t you.”
The uncertainty in Kobus’ eyes crystallises into something eager and confident. With a horny growl, he pulls his son closer, sticking his face into Zander’s neck and suckling on him as the young man gasps and giggles. “Last chance, then, son,” he says huskily. “Because I fuck rough. And hard. Ask your uncle.” I nod distractedly while Zander shudders with delight, every part of him radiating total satisfaction, his cock wonderfully warm and thick. “And I’m not going to hold back just because–“
“You have cows?” I ask, just making the connection.
Kobus turns and looks blankly at me. “What?”
“I didn’t know you had cows.”
“It’s a saying,” Zander pants, at the same time my brother says, “Just take your fucking clothes off, Braam.”
I nicker and start undressing as Kobus pushes Zander onto his back, arms outstretched, wrists held in place by Kobus’ strong arms. He taps Zander’s legs apart with a knee and grinds his lower leg against his son’s erection, growling bestially and not breaking eye contact as he does so. Zander’s eyes are already lidded; he squirms gently and happily beneath his father’s strength.
I’m fully dropped by the time my pants come off, and Kobus regards my dick with a keen eye even as his son gapes in disbelief at my ten soft inches. “Stallion means stallion, kiddo,” I say smugly to him. “Wait until I’m hard.” The extra four will blow his mind; I’ve quite some ideas for where I’d like to put them. “What now?” I ask Kobus, and he looks at me with a feral intent that I’ve not seen since the nights that he would slip into my bed, eager to use me for his pleasure. I gasp, my cock twitching in remembrance.
“You’ve always been original in bed, Braam,” my twin drawls. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.” He returns his attention to his son, pushing Zander’s shirt up and starting to suck on one of his nipples. At the same time, he moves his leg and lowers himself between Zander’s thighs, letting him grind their clothed crotches together with happy, snorting sounds. As the young man’s eyes flutter closed and his moans escalate in volume and frequency, I circle them both, fondling myself and considering options. There is something I often wanted to try, but which Kobus never had the patience for. His goal was always to get his cock inside me as soon as he could, and I could hardly complain; it was heavenly. But seeing as he’s going to be preoccupied for a while now…
I stop behind my brother, looking at his ass. His wet pants are hugging his ass-cheeks beautifully, letting me see them clench every time he grinds his crotch against Zander’s. I rest a hand on them and grip, nickering and flehmening excitedly. “Lift your legs?” I ask, and again when Kobus is too distracted to hear me. The big man grunts and kicks each leg back in turn, letting me tug the wet material off and toss it aside, leaving me with an unobstructed view of my brother’s dark, hairy ass and taint. His balls sit squashed between his body and the bed, almost as big as mine, and absolutely sloshing with cum. We compared orgasm volume once, and I won, but not by nearly as much as I expected. Those bull nuts could shoot for ages, and go again only moments later.
I wonder if that’s still true.
Putting that thought aside, I focus on my goal: his ass. I take each cheek in hand and squeeze, feeling him clench the muscle in response. My thumbs stroke his dark, downy ass-fur, circling the spots I remember as having dimples back in the day before diving in to spread him apart. I feel a pause from his other end, and nicker calmly. “Just relax,” I say, pushing my muzzle forward until my nose rests gently against his taint, and flehmen again. The rich, unmistakable scent of human nuts floods my nose and I snort in lust, making Kobus jerk at the blast of air against his nethers. “Sorry,” I giggle, half-muffled by the duvet. I sniff again, trying to remember exactly how he smelled back in the day. There are new layers to him now, like I can smell the extra years on him. A quick lap with my tongue earns me a gasp from the front of proceedings–which I take as encouragement–and a fresh, only slightly sweaty taste that makes my mouth water.
My tongue is large enough to envelop the whole back of his sack at once, feeling the nuts inside shuffle and clench before I slide up from there and across his taint to the cleft of his ass. He’s never been ticklish, but his cheeks clench on my tongue as it slides in, which feels amazing. I’m half on the bed, and I lift one leg to let me thrust against it in my growing need to rut. Rubbing won’t be enough to make me cum, but it’ll keep me close. For later.
I dive in further, seeking out my twin’s tight pucker, and find it with a “hngh” from sir’s mouth. I leave it for now, returning to his sack to lap around that again, cleaning off any taste that lingers–and sucking his balls into my mouth a little, to feel their heft–before doing the same on his taint. Repeated, firm strokes of my tongue there make Kobus groan loudly, and there’s a shuffling noise up front as clothes are moved or removed. I keep licking, closing my eyes and savouring the texture of him. This is the least part of my brother, yet I can feel the muscle even here. The strength in his ass alone makes me weak by proxy and so, so hungry. I push upward slowly, nose and tongue tight against twinned flesh, and find my way again into his musk–then open him wide with rough hands and get to work.
Everyone gets faint over the thought of horsecock, but nobody ever thinks about horse tongue–until they experience it. Kobus’ reaction to my attack on his hole is much the same as it’s been for every other human I’ve ever eaten out before I fuck them: a flutter of his pretty hole, a groan of disbelief, and an ass pressing even more firmly in my direction. I hear Zander asking something and Kobus respond, but I’m too high on my brother’s ass to properly listen. My tongue carries on circling, delighting in his texture as my hands gently squeeze the muscle to either side. When I probe deeper, the shuddering is a thing of beauty; I quickly push another inch of tongue in to feel him clenching around it. It makes me so happy knowing I’m making my brother feel things he’s never felt from me before. Pleasuring him is all I’ve ever wanted to do.
I sigh contentedly, eyes still closed, and drift off into a world where all I do is tongue-fuck my twin’s sweet hole.
A few minutes–or hours, or days–later, a hand on my head jolts me back to the present. I lift my spit-covered muzzle and numb lips and blink at a panting Kobus.
“Fuck,” he says, and I shiver with pleasure at his delight. “That feels so fucking good, Braam. But you have to stop.” He looks down at the spread-eagled man under him. “I need to breed my son.”
“D-Dad,” a lust-addled voice moans, high and desperate and needy, and I snort hard in response. The rut is rising within me, and my brother can see it. He grins and gestures me forward with a finger, grabbing my dick and jerking it a few times.
“Show the boy what a real stallion looks like,” he says.
I climb onto the bed beside them and shuffle up to Zander’s face. The beautiful young man is naked to the waist now, skin flushed and glistening with sweat. Hickeys dot his neck and upper chest, making me suddenly jealous. Kobus’ intense affections never left a visible mark on my coat.
Zander reaches for me, cradling my big balls and moaning at their heft. “You’re so big, uncle,” he whimpers, and my cock jumps at the final word. I’ve heard the other three so many times that they don’t even register anymore, but “uncle” reminds me who the hunk below me actually is. I whinny and lift my semi-erect cock, streaked in pre-cum from grinding against the bed, and drop it over my nephew’s face. He whimpers again, opening his mouth to try and lick it, and barely succeeding. His other hand finds my flare and starts crumping it with unexpected talent. As Kobus undoes his son’s pants and pulls them down, I push my cock out of his mouth.
“You been fucked by a stallion before, boy?” I like the sound of that diminutive, even if it’s hilariously mismatched to this muscled stud and the seven-inch cock that pops out of his pants a moment later. I watch Kobus grab it and stroke it a few times, letting the foreskin spread its load of pre-cum all over the head before he leans over to swallow it down halfway and suck with single-minded focus. Zander’s mouth goes slack as he gives a wordless cry, the hand on my flare dropping to curl into a fist against the bedsheets instead, even as the one on my nutsack gropes upwards to find my sheath and the base of my cock.
I let the cock-hungry slut enjoy his blowjob for a few more seconds before I slap his face with my dick to get his attention back. “Have you been fucked by a stallion before?” I repeat, and he shakes his head quickly, eyes locked on my shaft, going occasionally cross-eyed at what his father is doing to his cock. I stroke a finger over his pretty lips, then slide it into his mouth. “You seem to know what you’re doing with one, though,” I muse, pulling the finger free and circling his pert nipple with it. Zander’s entire body jumps, and Kobus grunts and looks up from where he kneels between his son’s legs with the young man’s cock balls-deep down his throat. “Did he squirt?” I ask, and my brother fashions a nod from his cock-swallowing motions. “Hot.” I tease Zander’s nipple a little more, making him squirm adorably, before taking it more firmly between two fingers and squeezing to see what he does then.
What he does is arch upward with a high-pitched cry, making his father choke and pull off of his son’s dick, eyes wide, cum dribbling out of one corner of his mouth. Semen squirts fiercely a few more times from the young man’s ramrod cock, splatting on his abs and legs, before becoming a dribble that runs down the slight curve of his cock and into his pubes–with Zander panting and moaning like a mare in heat all the while.
Kobus looks at me in dismay. “You made him cum already?”
“I wanted to see if his nipples worked like yours!”
“We didn’t even fuck yet!”
“Dad,” Zander groans, putting a hand on his father’s arm to quiet him. “It’s…it’s fine…” He gives a happily addled smile. “I can go again. Fast.”
Kobus and I consider the man’s cock, still fiercely upright after his orgasm, and I flick it experimentally with a finger. It wobbles stiffly, like a dildo suctioned to the floor, then stills.
“Well,” I say, impressed, “you sure know how to breed them, Kobus. Like father, like son. How many times can you go in a row, boy?”
“Three.” He wriggles happily under his father’s disbelieving–and deliciously horny–gaze. “Maybe four if…if you’re rough, Dad.”
“He’s always–” I start to say, but Kobus has already gone feral. Making sexy snarling sounds, he pulls Zander towards the edge of the bed, making him gasp in excitement. As he runs two fingers over his son’s semen-slick abs and bush to coat them in the leftovers of the young man’s orgasm–before thrusting them into the eager hole beneath–I admire my first clear view of my twin’s erect dick. It’s everything I’d imagined from Zander’s description, and a solid upgrade lengthwise from how I last saw it. Thick, veined, and dark, with a powerful upward curve that means the drop of precum sitting on his cockhead is almost perfectly balanced. I want to crawl over there and suck it down right now, but even more than that, I want to see something I’ve never had the pleasure of experiencing from this viewpoint.
Watching Kobus fuck.
The burly man licks his fingers clean of Zander’s spunk. “You taste good, boy,” he growls. One hand pushes his cock down until his head presses against his son’s tight ring in a way I can well remember, and then he grabs each of Zander’s legs to hold them up and apart. “You like watching me jerk off in the barn, boy?”
Zander is in heaven. “Yes, Da–yes, sir.”
Kobus snorts in a remarkably equine manner at that address. Makes me wonder if a few horse genes didn’t make it into him after all. “You know what I think about when I jerk off, boy?” Zander shakes his head, panting, eyes jumping between his father’s eyes and the hard cock about to press inside him. “This,” Kobus says, pushing forward just enough that his cockhead must have popped inside.
“Fffuuuuck,” Zander whines, his eyes rolling back, one leg shivering.
My twin’s eyes snap up to meet mine. “And your uncle’s pretty mouth.” I let my tongue slide out, reminding him how long it is, and he grins wickedly. “I remember the first time I fucked him, son. He was so warm and tight.” He inches forward a tiny amount, making Zander quiver and curse. “Just like you.”
“Sir,” he moans. “Please…”
“Suck your uncle’s balls first, boy,” Kobus commands. “I want to hear how your moans sound when they’re muffled by a horse’s fat sack.”
Zander looks up at me with desperation as I shuffle closer. I lift my nuts and drop them into his wet, waiting mouth, snorting at how good it feels as he wraps his mouth around one and starts sucking. My cock hangs above him watchfully, slowly dripping pre-cum onto his pecs.
“Can’t even fit both in his mouth,” I tell Kobus, who watches his slutty son with predatorial intensity.
“Maybe he just needs some motivation,” he says.
He thrusts deep inside without warning, and I feel Zander’s clench and cry out as a vibration through my balls and dick that feels unlike anything I’ve felt before. “Fuck!”
Kobus chuckles. “Did he bite?” he asks.
“No, just…wow.”
“Talented slut.” My brother sounds deeply satisfied. He grips his son’s legs tighter and starts fucking faster, every thrust using the full power of his legs and hips to slam his cock deep into the boy’s quivering form. I grunt as I feel his moans through my balls like a massage toy held close. Talented, indeed–both of them. I watch Kobus fuck, his expression focused solely on breeding the hole below him, grunting and gasping as it clenches around him. He seems to be going so fast already, but every so often he speeds up even more. He’s a force of nature; I remember him leaving me a helpless mess after each fuck. Annihilated by his power and mercilessness. He fucks as though his need to cum is the only reason either you or him exists, and at that moment it truly is all you want.
Zander is beyond language, but his tongue still slurps around my big nuts. I press down with them, properly smothering him, and feel the hot snorts of breath. He can’t see what’s happening anymore, but that’s fine. He’s ours, now; his father’s and his uncle’s. That’s all he needs to be. I look up at Kobus, taking in the hungry expression and the bulging arms as he fucks his son’s hole like it’s all he’s ever wanted to do. It nearly has been.
As his pace speeds up, with him even throwing his son’s feet over his shoulders to let him get closer and fuck faster, I sense less and less attention being paid to my nuts. Zander is clearly more focused on what his father is doing to him, and honestly, I get it. I, too, want to see my brother cum now. He looks so magnificent in this form, like sex made manifest. I want to hear his lust peak and echo off the walls. My cock has hardened and drips freely onto his son’s chest. The room stinks of the three of us; a homemade stables. Whinnying, I pull my twin’s gaze and hold it.
“Cum in him,” I say. “Fuck him as hard as you can and cum. Cum hard, like you did in me. Breed your boy. Show the slut how his daddy does it.”
Kobus gives me a wild grin, with pupils so wide they swallow his eyes, and he starts to roar with each thrust, pounding so hard the entire bed jerks beneath us. Zander is screaming with pleasure underneath me, and I only have eyes for my brother. So this is how the beast looks that’s fucked me so many times. Utterly glorious.
“Cum!” I bellow, and he roars back at me. The hard sound of his flesh slapping against his son is constant, filling the room–and then his eyes roll back, and he holds himself inside the younger man, gripping Zander’s ankles so tightly I worry they might crack. But the only sound that fills the momentary silence is a wild, orgasmic one as Kobus takes a deep breath and screams. I’m suddenly jealous, wishing to be that hole, to have every drop of my brother’s cum deposited only in me–but at the same time fiercely delighted for Zander to be feeling his father’s cock pulse and swell for the first time, to feel that torrent of human seed surge deep within him and know that it is his own sire that is putting it there.
Kobus’ body shivers delightfully as he cums, as if each squirt is running up and down his nerves before leaving. Under the weight of my balls, Zander’s mouth has gone slack, and I ease my sack off of him in case he’s passed out. Not quite, but close, by the look of him. Just ecstasy. His eyes open as I look down at him, and he grins lopsidedly and lets his eyes close again. “Fuck,” he moans, “fuck…sir…”
“Hard enough for you, slut?” the bigger man growls, slapping one of his son’s ass-cheeks as he lets him go and stands upright, his cock sliding free with a gorgeous wet sound.
“Y…yes, sir…” The boy can barely speak, and he’s still got his legs spread as though waiting for the next dick to slide right in now that his father’s taken his due. I’d love to–if I didn’t have another priority right now.
I look at Kobus, breathing hard and looking down at his stupefied son with eternal satisfaction. His cock quivers in the air, beet-red and slick with cum. I am suddenly back in my bedroom, long ago, covers pulled up to hide an erection as my brother stands in the doorway in boxers, casually erect through the flap and telling me the things he’s going to do to me. My snort attracts my twin’s attention, and he sees the memory in my eyes as I see it in his.
Wordlessly, he comes to stand alongside the bed near to me. And waits. I crawl towards him, head held low, turning to lie on my back as I reach him and letting my muzzle hang backwards off the edge of the bed. His musk is overpowering here; sweat and cum and sex. I look up at the perfect cock hanging above me, and the thick, hairy body above it. I want him to use me like he did his son. I want to be his, a cum-guzzling stallion twin to make use of as he sees fit. I want to ache tomorrow from his unrelenting eagerness. And I want him to know all that without having to say a word.
I know he does. We both know I never stopped being his willing fucktoy.
He steps closer and my mouth opens. His blood-hot cock pushes in hard, deep; glans scraping along the top–now bottom–of my mouth as it squirts a restrained, delayed shot of brother-cum into my throat. That mingles with the rest of him as my tongue cleans him. I can feel myself getting high from tasting him again, delighting in the extra taste of his own son on his skin and swallowing mouthful after mouthful of Kobus-infused spit.
I feel his foreskin roll over and back as he pushes his flesh along my tongue, occasionally pausing to let me suckle on his tip and winkle the last remaining dribbles of semen from it. Then even that allowance is withdrawn, and his lust takes centre stage, making me shudder and pant in anticipation. With a bestial groan, his hands find my head and hold me still as he starts fucking my throat just as fast as he fucked Zander’s ass. I go slack, letting him drive me like a toy.
The repeated slapping of hairy nuts against my skin is a simple pleasure I’d all but forgotten. Every time they hit my nose, forcing his powerful scent into my nostrils, his thick dick just about makes it to the top of my throat. I wish for the hundredth time that my muzzle was shorter; I’ve always wanted to be properly choked by my twin’s dick. The extra thickness he’s added since last he fucked me means he’s absolutely filling my mouth, at least. My beautiful brother’s deliciously fat cock.
“Take him all, boy,” Kobus says suddenly. “Get him hard, and swallow him to the sheath.”
I feel a sudden warmth on my dick as Zander’s hungry mouth envelops my flare. I’m almost entirely flaccid, my body in full twin-service mode, and my nephew’s talented throat seems experienced enough to not struggle with my ten flaccid inches. When I feel his lips kiss my sheath, instinct makes my hips jerk, and Kobus hisses and thrusts extra-hard into me.
“Looks like my boy’s got the measure of you, bro,” he says. “Now get hard.” My body obeys the command immediately, and my long cock starts to harden inside his son’s throat. I hear Zander begin to choke as I swell, but I don’t move a muscle. It’s the boy’s problem now. When he backs off a bit along my thickening shaft, his father chuckles.
“He’s big,” he says simply. “Takes practice to deepthroat a stallion, son. We’ll get you there eventually…” I feel Zander pause at the same time Kobus trails off. Half of me is in his mouth, and I can feel my flare almost blocking his throat. There’s a rush of air around it as the kid takes a deep breath…and then my horsedick starts sliding back down the young man’s throat.
The rut kicks in, and my hips thrust into the warm, wet hole. Each one makes Zander moan, and each moan makes his father thrust and hold in my throat. I speed up a little, and so does Kobus. I hear Zander choking on me, barely able to breathe around the fleshy plug my flare has become, but that just arouses me more. I love hearing men struggle to cope with my massive dick. I love feeling them barely able to swallow my cock. I love making them try and try again until I finally climax and leave them coughing up my cum in shock. Or I thought I did. Seems I only liked those things.
Because it turns out what I love is my handsome, slutty nephew successfully deepthroating my hard, flared, fourteen-inch horsecock.
His throat is so tight, it’s like virgin ass. It clenches as Zander struggles to keep me down. Warm spit runs freely from his mouth and pools in the folds of my sheath as the man slowly forces the final centimetre of dick down. It feels so incredible, I’m even distracted from the sensation of my brother’s cock in my muzzle. Zander is holding my hips down to give himself a fighting chance, and I strain against him. I clench, making my flare swell deep in his throat. I want to see him bulge from me, but not enough to forsake Kobus’s cock. He’s pushing hard into me now, an echo of me inside his son. My nose is covered in him; every breath a warm, oxygen-starved lungful of twin scent. It’s beyond perfect. Zander’s twitching is getting faster, but I’m so close. I try to take it all in at once: brother on one side, nephew on the other. A sexual bridge for my family, built from concrete muscles and iron need.
A bridge that must be sealed with cum.
Zander runs completely out of air and pulls off of my dick with a desperate gasp. The sensation of my flare being rubbed all along his throat and tongue pushes me over the edge, and no sooner is my dick free than my flare expands to its final huge extent–and then explodes with cum. I scream as the power of the orgasm makes my balls implode and my legs go numb; part of me hears Zander crying out as well, though whether in disbelief, jealousy or some other feeling I have no idea. My overfull nuts, teased beyond the point of reason by my brother and his son, spray their seed wildly across my body, face and probably the bed itself. The first hot line of cum slaps across the side of my neck; I feel others landing on my chest and midriff, soaking quickly into my hair. My violently erect cock continues to shudder and squirt, and Kobus’ own hard member keeps station in my muzzle, pulsing in time with his hoarse, excited breathing.
A new sensation: hot breath and eager tongue against my body. Zander whines like a hungry puppy as he eats up my fresh semen with greedy, almost panicked slurps, as if someone might take it from him if he’s not fast enough. My body is his buffet as he desperately seeks out my seed, finding ample to slake his thirst. I let him, drifting as I am in the shivering afterglow of the perfect hard nut. Only the feeling of my twin’s penis pulling out of my mouth rouses me, and I look up–already missing the feel of him in me, already licking my lips to try to get another taste of him–to see he and Zander kissing deeply above me, swapping my cum in their mouths as their bodies press together, smooth and hairy, muscled and thick, two perfect men in two perfect ways, joined by my cum.
I try to sit up, wanting to join in, but Kobus smiles and holds me back with one hand, then looks back at his son as if taking in the glory of the muscular young man’s body. He snorts once, then pushes Zander onto his back again. “On your knees, boy,” he commands, and his son quickly complies, panting and giggling excitedly. Kobus considers the view of his ass, then pushes the boy’s legs apart some more.
He spreads his son’s ass-cheeks to show the puffy pink hole and the cum leaking out of it, looking at me to make sure I see it. I nod, and only then does he motion me closer. We kiss like he and Zander just kissed, tongues deep, his one hand groping my groggy cock and the other gripping my mane possessively, holding me close to him like he owns me. I moan and melt, putty in his hands, and feel myself hardening again. My body, like my mind, is slaved to only one man’s desire…and his desire is overwhelming.
The kiss breaks, and I feel Kobus’ mouth against my ear. “Fuck my son,” he says softly, squeezing my flare until I grunt. “I want to see you make my boy your mare. Fuck him like you fucked all those other men.” I follow his eyes to the well-fucked bubble butt before us, and unexpectedly feel my rut return, well ahead of schedule. “But rougher.” Zander makes a little noise at that, and Kobus grunts. “Much rougher.”
I nicker and look at the young man splayed across the bedspread like a prize–a well-used one, but with mileage yet. Flehmening, I take in his scent. He stinks of himself, and me, and my brother. Of leftover sunscreen. Of woodsmoke. Of my cum–and of his father’s. But mostly, he stinks of lust. They always do. They’ve wanted a horse for so long, they can barely contain themselves. Hands shaking as they stand in the hotel room, promises they can’t possibly keep. Eyes widening when I bring the beast out. Some back out at that point, but most don’t. They’ve wanted it for too long by then; you can see it in their eyes. There’s only one way forward.
To be fucked by a stallion.
I walk around to Zander’s face and grab his chin, peering at his eyes. Wide, eager, and hungry for something new. “You ever been fucked by a horse, boy?” I ask again. He shakes his head, of course, but it’s not about the answer. It never is, but I ask it every time. Sometimes the scale of my dick confuses them. They forget what it is this massive stick of flesh is actually going to do to their tiny human bodies. “Do you want to be?”
“Yes, sir.” He’s actually drooling. Fuck, what a cutie. My eyes roam his broad shoulders, powerful back, and the hard, unsatisfied cock bobbing obediently between his legs like a tail. Why did I ever hold back from lusting over this stud? He so desperately needs to be fucked by a stallion. I glance across at Kobus, who is teasing one of his nipple piercings and playing with his balls as he watches. He gives me a wicked grin and mouths one word.
Rougher.
I let go of Zander’s chin and grip his hair instead, pulling his face up by his golden locks and making him gasp. “Did your daddy fuck you hard, boy?” I growl.
He wiggles his butt happily. “Yes.”
“Yes…?”
He gulps. “Yes, sir.”
“I’ll fuck you harder.” I grab my dick and slap his face with it. “With this.”
The breathless whimper says it all really, but I’m enjoying this now. Being watched by Kobus is a kink I didn’t know I had, and his son’s incredible body is the cherry on top. “Say thank you, sir.”
“Thank you, sir.” He tries to reach for my dick with his mouth, but I tug his head back.
“You did that already. A good attempt.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“How many men have fucked you before, boy?”
“Lots, sir.” I see Kobus’ lip rise in a half-snarl, and nicker.
“Mmh. Your dad doesn’t like that. He’s pretty possessive of you. Only dicks he’s allowed go into your hole from now on, hm?”
“Yes, sir.”
“But he can’t change the past. How big was the biggest guy that fucked you, boy?”
“I…I don’t know, sir.”
“Bigger than your dad?”
“…yes, sir.”
“Bigger than me?” He shakes his head violently at that, and I release his hair. “Of course not. I’m a stallion.” I take a step back to let him see my fully erect length, swinging it and my balls from side to side to slap weightily against my thighs. “Was it your dad you dreamed about when all those men fucked you, boy?” Slap, slap. “Did you think about all the times you watched him in the shower, or in the barn?” Slap, slap. I lick my lips and watch Kobus. “Or when you licked his cockhead while he was asleep?” Slap. The moment of shock on my brother’s face sublimes instantly into sheer animal lust, and I whinny my delight at him. “And me? Do you look at horse porn and wish it was me and you?”
“Yes, sir, yes. All of it, sir.”
“Lusting over your dad. Lusting over me. Very, very naughty. Don’t blame you, of course. Your dad’s a fucking stud, and nobody’s ever fucked me as good as he has.” I smirk. “Because nobody else ever has. He owns my ass, boy, like he owns you. So if he says I need to teach his slut of a son a rough lesson…” I grab his hair again, pulling his head up until his gulping Adam’s apple is winking at me like a mare’s clit and his jaw has gone slack with acceptance. I swing my cock and balls once more, harder, to smack against his cheek with an impact that sounds like it should leave an imprint of my dick in his flesh. “Then I don’t hold back.”
Wordlessly thrilled sounds come out of the young man’s throat as I release him and climb back on the bed, shuffling up to his ass and stroking it. His skin’s hairless, smooth as silk: the complete opposite of his father’s. I rub my flare over it as well, luxuriating both in the feel of him and the desperate poses he pulls to try to get me to start fucking him. “You raised a slut, Kobus,” I note, eyeing the pretty pink rosebud I’m about to destroy.
“Guess I have a type, then,” he says, and I feel my skin prickle at his intense, feral stare. I quickly look away before my desire to fuck his beautiful blonde bitch turns into me begging to let me ride his dick instead.
“You gonna fuck his face while I breed him?” I ask.
“Don’t worry about me. Focus on him.”
I nod and shuffle closer to the young man. His front is flat against the bed, with his legs spread wide and his butt raised as high as he can get it. I grope his balls and cock, enjoying the feeling of masturbating a human dick–I’ve wanted a foreskin like them all my life–before reaching forward to grab his hair again. “Up,” I snap, and he rises like a golden dawn. I move my hand to his neck and grip, then line my flare up on his hole with my other hand. “You had a pretty big dick today already,” I muse, “so I don’t see any point in going slow.”
With a snort, I thrust myself inside him. There’s a second of resistance as my flare presses on his ring, my shaft bending just a little with the force of it–and then with a beautiful sound, half of my dick slides into him. I throw my head back and whinny as hot, wet flesh envelops me. Kobus’ cum is the perfect lube; I can feel my brother’s equine-sized load sloshing around inside his son. It’s so hot, I nearly cum again right there. I turn my head, meaning to tell him, but he’s not there.
Two strong hands drop onto my shoulders, making me release Zander’s hair in shock. I feel my brother’s belly press against my back and I moan, instantly understanding what he’s going to do–but not being ready for it. “Wait,” I gasp, but one of the rough hands covers my mouth, silencing me.
“You are mine,” he reminds me in a low voice. “Your dick is mine. Your ass is mine. All of you is mine.” His other hand slides down my body to grip the base of my cock. “So show my son how my stallion fucks, and I’ll remind you how I fuck.”
I can only obey.
I begin thrusting, moving forward and back in simple motion as I try to feel everything all at once. Kobus is moving with me, almost exactly in sync, his firm grip on my cock a grounding rod for my lust. Zander is whimpering and clawing at the blankets as my flare works at opening him up nicely, but I’ve almost forgotten what I’m doing to him. All my focus and attention is on the warm flesh pressing up against me from behind.
Kobus lifts my tail and I clench in need, forgetting to thrust back into Zander until my twin’s mass pushes on me to restart the pendulum. As I withdraw, I feel a hot coal touch my anus, but I keep thrusting. On the next withdrawal, the coal is a little bigger. A little hotter. Thrust, withdraw, thrust. Each time, I feel more of the coal…until I don’t.
I keep thrusting because I must, but even as I push several more inches into the blonde slut, nothing pushes deeper into me. Kobus can do with me as he wishes, as always…but he knows I need his dick in me. This is unbearable.
As if he can read my mind, I sense his lips by my ear again. “I told you to be rough, Braam,” he snarls. “So breed him.”
I whinny assent and accelerate, desperately to prove I can. I grip Zander’s hips for support and thrust the last of myself inside him, head spinning at the overwhelming tightness and heat. The slut is screaming expletives and begging me to fuck him harder. I roar and do my best, pulling out hard–and far–to let him feel my entire length. The coal under my tail is back, and without warning it slides inside me, making me cry out and shiver with delight. The harder I thrust into Zander, the deeper Kobus goes. I close my eyes and try to let our dicks set the rhythm. Slam into the slut, feel my balls slam into his. Pull out hard, flexing the flare to make the slut feel it. Back and back, almost all the way, until I feel my brother’s dick slide into me a little deeper.
“Stay in him,” he grunts, and I do. Only pulling out a little each time, but still hammering back in as hard as I can. The body under me is a quivering lump of muscle now, gurgling and keening every time my dick slams across his prostate. And Kobus is staying in me, too, thrusting in the opposite pattern. With nothing but his precum as lube, he’s all in. I feel so filled by him. I want to bend down like his son, spread myself and just let him use me–but I also want to keep fucking this slutty son’s hole for hours. A decision is impossible, so I give it up. I let Kobus drive me, becoming an extension of his cock as it gets deeper and deeper inside me until we are moving in near-perfect unison.
One of my brother’s arms is wrapped around my side by then, his face buried in my back. Sweat courses down the humid space between us. I feel his piercings sliding across my fur as he thrusts and thrusts into me, grunting happily each time like a satisfied bear. My range of motion, trapped as I am between two hunks, is reduced to thrusting a pinkie’s length into Zander in between my brother’s own thrusts: pushing back as Kobus pushes forward, feeling all of him deep inside me in that perfect, long-forgotten way. I don’t want to cum. I want to stay here forever, having sex forever, endlessly held and adored by the person I love most in the world.
But he desires more.
The hand clasping my chest slides up until it finds my neck. I moan, and it tightens, making me moan louder. Kobus shuffles closer to me, his cock now firmly inside me with no space to move. “We’re going to make him cum,” he murmurs in my ear, and I snort and thrust. I feel him move with me, keeping us flush as though the sweat has glued us together. The pressure on my neck grows just as I hilt, and I respond as he’s trained me and move back. Again he remains close, and I understand what he wants.
I pull out some more and thrust back in, with Kobus matching my motion and lending his muscle to my actions. Zander’s endless, horny whimpers jump an octave as he feels the mass of two powerful males breeding him at once. My hips are bouncing hard off of his each time, but I can fuck faster now. Harder. Deeper. The hand around my neck and the cock inside my ass has woken my rut to its full need, and I drink in the sounds of my nephew’s hole being ruined as only a stallion can. As entirely as I am my brother’s, Zander is mine, here and now. Mine to use, mine to fuck, mine to cum inside of. The lube that fills him is my brother’s seed. The cock that drives me is my brother’s cock. The desire that inflames my loins is his.
I whinny and thrust harder, harder, fucking the slut like the hundred other men I’ve fucked. Showing him where he belongs: impaled by me. Glorying in the strength of my body and the size of my stallionhood. Dripping with sweat, grunting like an animal, held fast by the man who controls me. Zander is outright screaming now, begging to cum, asking me to destroy him, to annihilate him with my horsedick. I do my best. His tunnel is now far too loose to even try to grip down on the forearm-sized cock wrecking him–but I don’t care. I can still make him cum. My flare squelches happily far inside his guts, and I’m close now. So close. I feel my lip rise and shut my eyes, letting smell, sound and touch carry me to the end.
Cock within me, and my cock within.
Sweat, cum, and pre.
Five warm fingers caressing.
Balls slapping into balls.
A vocal, eager hole.
Balls rising, ready.
I feel my crest approaching ahead, and let go. Melting into it. All motion becomes Kobus, meshed with me as a twin should be, fucking through me and into his son. My cock becomes his, our lusts mingling and meshing. I am the equine manifestation of his eternal sexual dominance. I thrust into his son, faster, grunting hoarsely and being gripped so tightly that his piercings nearly break my skin. Harder and harder and faster and deeper and oh fuck, oh fuck Zander, fuck, son, fuck, bro, you’re so fucking tight I can’t I I fuck fuck fuuuuUUUUUU–!
I can’t tell if it’s me or Kobus screaming when I cum. I’ve never cum that hard a first time, let alone a second. My vision fuzzes; Kobus’s arms hold me up. I’ve flared hard; Zander’s cock is spraying himself wildly as I pump him full. And not just his; all of my muscles clenched when I came, and Kobus is cumming too. I feel his warmth spreading deep inside me as mine spreads in his son, and I shudder in uncontrolled pleasure and joy at the opportunity to make him climax inside me once again. The ecstatic whinnying and human moaning fill the room as my–his–our body gives up all of itself to a singular forever moment of blissful wonder and pleasure. Time breaks, and we vanish into the discontinuity of climax.
It’s night-time when I drift awake again. All of us are sleeping together on the bed; I must have pulled out at some point, but Kobus didn’t. He’s still lying big-spooned up against me when I wake, and a soft clenching of my muscles finds his cock resting inside me. Dim light through the ajar door shows me my nephew sleeping in front of me, facing me; he’s got an adorable smile on his sleeping face that makes me want to kiss him. He looks clean, but Kobus and I certainly aren’t. I feel the dried cum and sweat glueing us together; it tugs at my coat as I gently pull away from him, breaking the seminal bond. The feeling of his cock slipping free makes me nicker softly in dismay, but I can have it back again later, at least. This is a start, not an end.
Kobus stirs a little as I sit up on the bed, but sleeps on.
Looking down at the two men I’ve been lying between, I try to take stock of the day. My heart pounds with such joy I worry it will give in, but at the same time, I feel tendrils of doubt. This was…amazing. But it was also sex. Sex simply can’t be everything. After decades of trying so hard to convince myself that this wasn’t what I needed, that Kobus was right to push me away, I’ve all but convinced myself. And now, when faced with the very real proposition of it actually happening again, I don’t know if I’ll be able to shrug that self-programming off quite as quickly. Plus, where do I even fit into what they have? It’s too special for me to just lumber into and break with my clumsy fat hooves. They need their space. But…then what about me? Fuck. Maybe I need some space to just figure all this shit out…
A quiet snort makes me realise that Kobus has, once again, silently awoken while I let my mind run dangerously wild. He says nothing, but I see that he sees. As if an ancient bond has been re-established, he can read my thoughts.
“I don’t know if–” is all I get to say before he sits up and shakes his head to quiet me, then holds me, arms soft and strong around my back. He hums a soft tune into my ear that I take a while to recognise. It’s the tune he and Zander were singing around the pool earlier. I sigh deeply against him as he hums it over and over, before finally pulling back to look me in the eyes.
“Me neither,” he admits, looking down at his sleeping son with a gentle look. “But…I’m willing to give it a try?” He looks back at me, and I see a faint mirror of my insecurity in him. “If you are?”
Two brothers, one doubt. Somehow, him not having all the answers–all the confidence–makes me feel…safer. There’s still a lot of questions we’re going to have to ask, but if it’s both of us asking, that means we’re gonna figure it out together. And that…that I think we can do.
“Okay,” I say, sounding more uncertain than I intend. And I know why. A lot of the questions can wait for later, but one can’t. I quickly reach out a hand to cup my brother’s face. “Are you sure–sure–that this is real?” I ask. “Because you and Zander have a life and I have a life and I don’t know if–“
Kobus grips my hand, quieting me. “Yes,” he says firmly. “Yes.” He looks at me thoughtfully, then reaches across and picks something out of my mane. “Maybe too real. You need a shower.” He flicks the thing away and grins when I snort in his face. Standing, he offers me his hand. “Let’s get cleaned up. And then we’ll talk. And we’ll make this work.”
I take the hand and rise, following my brother as he heads into the bathroom and shuts the door behind us. Behind us, Zander opens one eye with a squint and grins slowly, then closes it again and snuggles down into the blankets, letting the sounds of running water and naughty nickering soothe him back to sleep.