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The Sun to your Moon #16


***************Contains sexual content*******************


Voyeur


John didn’t engage in any conversation with Scott or Grace on the way back to the apartment. Scott kept saying his name and blurting out vague protests, but each one sounded increasingly breathless from Grace’s hand in his shorts.


He had seen them across the bar and watched how Scott had changed.

They were slight changes.

A lift of his lips John had never seen before. His relaxed pose showed off his stack of muscles. He sucked his stomach in, pushed out his chest, and a look burned in his eyes that could only be desire.


Scott had never reacted like that to John, but Grace, with her athletic body, huge breasts, and glossy brown hair had brought that side of Scott out.

His primal side.

Scott wanted sexual relief, and John wanted to see it.

He wanted to see it first-hand.

John wanted it more than the jealousy ripping a path through his veins. Anger made his march back to the apartment swift, gripping Scott’s fingers so tightly he knew it must’ve hurt, but he didn’t loosen the hold.


John unlocked the door while listening to the sloppy sounds of Grace and Scott kissing.


Scott broke off, lurching into John’s back. “What are—”


John didn’t let him finish, he unlocked the door and stepped inside. Scott stumbled in after him before being spun around by Grace for a kiss. John didn’t look at them. He stared at the wall and tried to finish Scott’s sentence in his head.

What are you doing?

Or

What are you thinking?

Both answers were the same.

He didn’t know.

He squeezed his eyes shut, making sure there was no chance they would accidentally fall into his eye line.

He wasn’t ready.

The sounds attacked his ears.

Wet suction and the occasional groan or sound of enjoyment.

He didn’t know if he could look. He didn’t know whether he could ever put himself through that torture of watching someone else do all the things he was desperate to do to Scott.

But that was the reason he'd agreed. He wanted to see Scott come even if the person pushing him to that point wasn't him.


John curled his nails into his palms, cutting deep. He turned until he faced them and opened his eyes.

Grace rammed Scott against the wall of the apartment.

They both laughed.

John didn’t.

If they glanced over at him, he’d break the moment, he’d drive away the lust with the fury in his eyes. He kept still, staring daggers at Grace’s hands as she swept them over Scott’s body. His muscles twitched and jerked as she pressed into his skin.

His warm, slightly reddened skin from where he'd been baking in the sun.

John wanted to touch him, but knew he couldn’t.


“Time to see if the sexy man has a sexy cock.”


Scott only had eyes for Grace as she got to her knees in front of him. Her manicured nails scratched against his abdomen before hooking the top of his shorts.


John’s knees weakened, and he gripped the back of the sofa to stay on his feet.

Grace inched down Scott’s shorts, giving John his first glance at the thickness of Scott’s cock.

Wide, firm but forced down by the waistband of his shorts. There was a patch of jet-black hair at the base. Grace lowered the shorts enough that his cock swung free, bobbing before her eyes.


John shivered, clinging to the sofa.

Grace mouthed at Scott’s dripping cock.

John’s mouth filled with saliva. He swallowed it down, but it refilled again. Scott’s cock was big, and masculine, a few shades lighter than his tanned skin, but the head of his cock was molten pink-red, like a newly formed bruise, all the blood pooling, and pressing against the skin.


John squeezed his eyes shut.

God, he wanted to suck it, feel the heat of the blood beneath the surface, tease it until Scott thrust it into his mouth.


He wanted to sweep his fingertips over it and admire the softness and kiss it so gently it spilt precum on his lips.

A long groan reopened his eyes at the same moment Scott’s slid shut. Grace wrapped her hands around the base, keeping Scott steady, trapping him in place as she pressed her mouth over him.


She took him inside, again and again, until Scott rolled the back of his head against the wall, lost in the throes of ecstasy.

John’s hatred for Grace came back.

It wasn’t her fault, but he couldn’t hold back the onslaught of jealousy.

He focused on Scott’s face, watching pleasure ripple across it, flexing his eyebrows, fluttering his eyelids. His full lips were open, panting for breath.

John squeezed himself, gasping at the sensitivity in his cock.


“Ten minutes?” Grace chuckled. “You’re not going to last five.”


Scott cracked an eye open, and John let go of himself. It was unnecessary, Scott only had eyes for the woman sucking his cock. Neither of them glanced over to where he was standing, both overlooking he was there, trying not to jerk off at the sight of pleasure on Scott’s face.

His brother's face.


For three years it had been rammed down his throat that Scott was his brother. Every news article, event, and fundraiser he was forced to attend, that's how they described them.

That's how Scott saw them.

Brothers.


“It feels really good,” Scott murmured between gulping swallows.


John had to grab his cock at that, running his hand up the length and hearing Scott’s wrecked voice in his head.

John knew things that Grace didn’t.

Things he shouldn’t have known.

Scott loved his cock being sucked.

His porn habit had given that away.

He watched two main types. Determined women getting their men despite the risk of getting caught, and blowjobs. He loved watching women suck cock. He even had a few favourite videos he sought out when he needed quick relief.


Grace resumed her sucking. Scott grew more and more restless against the wall. He stroked his hand over Grace’s head before cupping the back of her skull.

His hips jerked as if on reflex, and he drove his cock deeper.

Grace pulled away, spluttering, “Give a girl some warning.”


“Sorry,” Scott said, he pressed both his hands flat against the wall. “I was getting too worked up.”


John’s stomach flipped at his wrecked voice, raspy in his desperation.

One of Scott’s favourite videos had the title face fucking, and the performer slid his cock in and out to the base. Scott loved it. He only needed to watch two minutes of the video before he switched it off.


John would let him go as deep as he wanted. He'd take him far enough that he wouldn't be able to breathe and still beg with his eyes for more.


Grace pulled her face away and clambered to her feet. Scott’s eyes snapped open, he whined and looked pitifully down at his cock. If Grace didn’t want it, John sure as hell did.

He’d crawl across the floor on hands and knees if Scott glanced over with that look on his face.

He waited for it.

The moment Scott would look at him and summon him over.

His thighs weakened at the thought, getting him ready for his submissive crawl across the apartment to get to his brother’s cock. He'd worship it. He'd make love to it with his hand, lips, and tongue.

His eyebrows twitched with his need for Scott to look at him.

He didn’t, and Grace smashed John's fantasy to pieces by pulling Scott away from the wall.

She changed positions with him. Her underwear snaked down her legs, and she stepped out of them before flinging it across the apartment.


No words were spoken.

Scott and Grace both knew the next steps to this dance John was yet to see.

They moved in unison.

He lifted her from the ground, and she wrapped her legs around him.

Their eyes both fell between them while they fumbled with the angle and the condom Grace had pulled from her bra.


A minute later they were fucking against the wall.


John slid his gaze onto the front door. His escape. Grace moaned with each thrust, spurring Scott on in their mad chase for relief. John hated her. He hated her so much his eyes began stinging, still fixed on the door. The noises they made rolled his stomach, lashing it with jealousy.


He wanted to leave but couldn’t force his legs to move.

Would Scott even notice if he ran?

No. Scott was too lost in lust.

He wouldn’t notice his retreat, but Grace would.

John took a measured breath and exhaled through his nose. He turned back to Scott and grew dizzy at the strain on his muscles. They flashed each time he thrust, bulging with effort.

John dragged his gaze over his defined shoulders, and shapely arms, but Scott’s legs were what turned his own to jelly. Strong, and powerful, they supported the weight of Grace and steadied the rocking motion.


John slid his hand into his shorts and took hold of himself. His warring emotions hadn’t been enough to kill his arousal. Scott was hot, pounding Grace into the wall. She moaned, but his only sounds came as inhales and grunts. His forehead pressed into the junction of Grace’s neck, hiding his sounds from John.


Grace's eyes fixed on John’s. They locked in place, and a twitch of her brow let him know of her confusion. He sneered at her, narrowing his gaze. He wasn’t jerking off because of her, but the effort Scott was putting in to please her against the wall.

John could see the strain in his neck, the shakes in his legs, and the erratic rolls of his hips.

Sweat glistened on his skin that John wanted to taste.

Scott’s hair became dishevelled, and John wanted to touch and ruffle it and drag his nails over his scalp.


His thoughts turned him on. Not her loud moans, or her overly acted pleasure face. Her hands on Scott’s shoulders stroked down his back, running through his shimmering sweat. She sunk her nails in and dragged them up, leaving red welts. John gritted his teeth, unable to keep any semblance of a poker face.


“Bedroom.” She panted.


Scott slumped into her and murmured something John didn’t catch against her skin. He kept her up against the wall but stopped moving his hips and took a minute to breathe.


“I said bedroom,” Grace repeated, dropping her legs from around his back. Scott panted and reached for her outstretched hand. She led a swaying Scott into the bedroom. John’s bedroom, but Scott was too out of it to notice.


John rocked forward and back on his feet; erection forgotten. Grace had realised his secret and had taken Scott from his view.

He listened as they resumed fucking.

Scott’s moans were heaven and hell in his ears. He clawed at them before cupping them to increase the sound. Scott’s cries of pleasure bought goosebumps out on John’s skin. He stroked the ones on his arms, before sweeping his hand over his body, down to his leaking crotch.

John stumbled forward, clutching the doorframe as he watched Grace have her way with Scott.

She was on top.

Scott loved a woman on top.

Seventy percent of the porn videos he watched had the woman on top. He loved the guy to be ridden with his wrists pinned and growled at to stay still.

He loved watching a man be used for pleasure.

Grace didn’t know what John did, but she learned fast what Scott liked.

She was merciless, bouncing on him. His hands shot up to catch her breasts, groping them as it all became too much.


“Fuck, Grace…”


Scott stiffened. The back of his head came off the pillow, and he gasped as he came.

The wetness in John’s shorts dripped down his legs. It itched against the back of his knees and circled John’s ankle before reaching the floor.

Scott had made him cum, untouched in his shorts. His cock throbbed with the orgasm, sensitive against the rough material.

John squeezed himself, jolting at his stabbing nerve endings.


He stepped back from the doorway as Grace climbed off of Scott and watched from afar. Scott tied the condom and dropped it on the floor, still panting.

The bed creaked as he rolled onto his side. One sweaty arm came up and covered his face. He didn’t glance over to the bedroom door. He didn’t even reopen his eyes. Scott lay there until his breathing evened out, and his arm slipped off his face.


“You’re still hard.”


Fear jackhammered John's heart, but Scott didn't stir at Grace’s words. She adjusted her top. Scott’s groping hands had knocked it out of place. She swaggered closer, the edge of her lips lifting as she closed the distance between them. “I can help—”


John moved away from her outstretched hand and shot an obvious glance at the front door. Grace laughed and rolled her eyes. She walked past John to retrieve her underwear from behind the sofa.


“His cock felt really good inside me.”


John glared at her. “I’m glad.”


“You don’t look glad. You look furious.”


She snorted, slipping her underwear up her legs. “He’s got stamina,” Grace gestured to the wall. “And he was doing his best to hit my sweet spot, but in the end, I had to use him to find it myself, but I think he likes that. A dominant woman.”


“Why are you telling me this?”


“I know you want to know what that feels like. He’s big and eager to perform, but my favourite part was when he surrendered to me. When I fucked him into that mattress, he couldn’t hold on anymore. Do you want to know what it feels like?”


John looked away. His cock pressed against the front of his shorts. “Yes.”


“Like winning.” She smiled. “In the game of sex, I’m still standing, but your brother is too exhausted to continue. I’ve plenty of energy left to help you—”


“I don’t need you. I don’t want you.”


“No.” Grace looked away. “You want him. You want your brother. It’s sick.”


“You don’t know anything about us.”


“I know you got us back here so you could watch your brother fuck me, and me fuck your brother. I know it excited you and seeing him like that still excites you. And I know, that not once did he look over to you. His eyes were on me the whole time, so whatever messed up fantasy you have going on, isn’t mutual.”


“You can leave now.”


“I could stay…it would be easy to convince him to go again after he wakes. You can jerk off to your dirty secret all over again.” She stepped closer. “I know there’s part of you that likes that idea, maybe I can drive him so crazy with want he doesn’t know whose hand is on his cock. Maybe if I get him so close, he can feel himself going over, he won’t care that it’s you sucking on the end of it.”


John shivered and reached out to touch the wall. It stopped him from falling. “Stop it.”


“You like the sound of that, don’t you.” Grace trapped him against the wall. “It’s sick.”


“I know—"


“But it’s fucking sexy as hell how much you want him. I’ve had brothers before, but never like this. Never this…taboo.”


John glanced over his shoulder into the bedroom. He relaxed at the sight of Scott still snoozing on the bed, oblivious to their conversation.


“Take hold of your cock, John.”


“Why?”


"There's still time." Grace leaned up on her tiptoes and whispered by his ears. “I could blindfold him.”


“What?”


“I could. You could play with his cock. You could suck it, lick it, kiss it.” Grace's lips touched the shell of his ear. “I could even distract him enough for you to ride his beautiful cock. He wouldn’t know. He’d think it was me. You’d get to feel him inside you.”


“Sick.” John squeezed his eyes shut. He jerked on his cock, biting back a moan. “It’s sick.”


“Yeah, it is, but you want him that bad you’re considering. You get to watch him cum. You get to feel the way he shakes, hear his gasp, and see his brow tighten. You get to experience all that, but this time know it was you that did it to him not me.”


John whimpered, darting a look back at Scott on the bed, naked, sweaty.


Grace leaned back and smiled. "Let’s go back in there and fuck your brother."

John shook his head, still stoking his cock.


Grace pouted. "You don’t want to fuck him?"


"You know I do." John licked his dry lips. He startled at the tightness of his voice. He’d never admitted it aloud before. The desire stayed locked in his head, but Grace had heard, she sniggered in his ear and told him it was hot.

Sick but sexy.


He increased his pace on his cock and tightened his grip. "I want to sink down on him."


Grace nodded along with an open mouth. "Yeah, you do."


"I want to ride him the way he loves. I want to pin his wrists to the bed and drive his cock into my body over and over until he can’t think straight."


"Think straight." Grace snorted. "Nice one."


John ignored her and kept stroking. He rocked onto his tiptoes, and his calves stiffened.


"I want to do that more than you could ever know."


Grace clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth. "Let's do it then. I'll get him warmed up, find something to use as a blindfold—"


"I want to do all that," John continued, "with you nowhere near him.”


Grace recoiled. “What?”


“I want to look him in the eye as I push him over the edge. I want to feel his cock spasm and his body shake. I want his cum inside me,” John moaned, unloading all his secrets adjusting his angle until it was right. His eyelids drooped. “I…I want to…” he licked his lips, finding his voice again. “I want to come on his face, rub it into his skin so the whole fucking world, knows he's mine."


Scott was his. He just didn’t know it yet.


John finished with a grunt, dirtying his shorts with a second load of cum. He shivered and slowed his breathing. His release dripped from one of the leg holes onto his bare foot.

Grace swiped her big toe across the mess.


"It'll never happen. You're fucked up fantasy will never happen."


"He's done with you. I'm done with you. You served your purpose, now you can leave."


"You're sick—"


"And so are you.” John snapped.


"He's your brother."


"No.” The whole world, including Scott, kept telling him, but it wasn’t true. They weren’t brothers. Never would be. “He’s not. Now get out.”



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