Part 22 – Protein
Note: This chapter portrays bisexual sex. If you're uninterested, move along to chapter 23.
October
***
Trevor blinked in the mid-morning light. His dick itched, that kind of itch he felt when he jerked off too much. He smiled as he massaged the spongy head with his foreskin, noting the crunchy dried cum in his pubic hair as it scraped against the heel of his hand. They'd fucked for hours in every way they could manage; Brandon had squeezed four more loads out of him before they'd collapsed together in a heap on the carpet. Brandon had simply pulled his pillows and blanket off his bed and that was where they'd slept. Trevor remembered the sloshy sound his cock had made in that cum-churned asshole, sliding in and out slippery and sometimes hard as Brandon cursed at him and taunted him and cheered him on. By the end, fuck-drunk, exhausted and sweating and light-headed, Trevor had literally fallen on his ass. Brandon had swung around and jacked his half-hard cock without mercy until he came again, his body twitching as much in pain as in pleasure.
Trevor glanced bleary-eyed around the room as he noted Brandon's absence. His mouth tasted like sand and cotton; he rolled to his knees and stood.
The sound of the shower murmured through the bathroom door. Brandon must be in there. Trevor tracked down a glass and filled it from the tap, ignoring the hint of chlorine as the cool wet relieved the tackiness in his throat. His eyes closed in pleasure as his body rewarded him for meeting its needs. He refilled the glass and swigged half of it.
Dumping the remainder into the sink, he turned toward the bathroom as his body urged him to remedy his next biological necessity. Opening the door, his bleary eyes barely registered the flesh-colored blob through the translucent shower curtain and the misty air; he turned to the toilet, lifted the seat, and relaxed, willing the welcome stream into existence.
"Would you get me a bar of soap, Brandon?"
Trevor's heart jumped. He nearly pissed on the floor. Glancing over, he realized that the fleshy blob had breasts. "Oh, shit," he muttered as he applied the emergency brake to his bladder with a wince.
The blob poked its wet head out from behind the curtain. "Who the hell are you?" she asked, more puzzled than indignant.
"God, I'm sorry." Mortified, he turned toward the door. He closed it behind him and saw Brandon step into the hallway.
Trevor watched Brandon's face for the split-second it took the swimmer's mind to click together what had happened; Brandon erupted in raucous laughter, doubling over. "Fuck, that's the funniest thing," Brandon finally managed through his tears.
Trevor grinned in spite of himself. "Laugh it up, fucker. I thought it was you." Brandon hooted again. "Where the fuck were you?"
"I was..." Brandon sobbed, "getting eggs." He stood, wiping at his eyes. "Well, that's not how I'd hoped you'd meet my sister, but what the hell."
"I'm sorry. Shit, I hope she's not pissed."
"Nah," Brandon waved, laughter fading into chuckles and sniffles. "She's cool. She'll roll with it. How about some breakfast?"
Brandon showcased another talent as he prepared the food and Trevor ducked into the bedroom to slip into his pants. Eggs and toast with a side of leftover spicy chicken strips his sister had brought home the night before. He fried the eggs to a perfect soft over-easy, flipping then sliding them to Trevor's plate without a spatula just as the toast popped. “A high-protein breakfast.” He looked at Trevor sideways as he handed the wrestler a glass of Tropicana. “I figure you’re running short on the stuff.” Trevor grinned. He reached the card table just as Brandon’s sister emerged from the bathroom.
Trevor turned as she moved down the hall, wrapped armpit to thigh in terry; she had her brother's sarcastic smile and his color of shoulder-length hair. Her humored eyes sparkled as blue as Brandon's did green; her face was a feminized version of his, stunningly beautiful, her movements graceful and with that note of self-assuredness that Trevor saw in Brandon. In every way, their common gene pool shined through. Trevor fought the urge to stare stupidly as his crotch stirred.
"Trevor, this is Heather. Heather, Trevor."
Heather smiled sweetly. "Brandon has told me a lot about you. It's nice to finally put a face to an ass."
Brandon snorted as Trevor grinned and flushed. The sarcasm must run in the family, he thought. "And it's such a great ass, isn't it?" Brandon offered. Heather laughed her agreement.
"Uh," Trevor stammered, "Sorry about that in the bathroom. I thought he was in there."
"Don't worry about it, I should have locked the door. I knew you were here." She smirked at her brother. "Since I heard you most of the night."
Brandon chuckled. "Want some?" he asked, indicating the eggs.
"Please." Heather walked back down the hall and disappeared into her bedroom.
Brandon glanced at Trevor, amused. "My boy, you seem to be smitten."
Trevor blushed again. "I... uh, no, I..."
Brandon stepped close and slipped a hand into Trevor's waistband, tugging him close, giving him a peck. "Don't worry about it," he smiled roguishly. "You wouldn't be the first man we've shared." Brandon turned back to the stove; Trevor sat at the rickety table, a little dizzy, and bit his toast.
***
"So, you've got the day off?" Brandon asked Heather, handing her the plate. She'd dressed in denim shorts and a tank top; Trevor's eyes kept migrating to the bumps where her nipples pushed against the thin cotton cloth. She wasn't pretentious: no fake nails, no makeup, hair tucked back in a simple ponytail, nothing but her natural beauty. Brandon sat beside her with his own breakfast; the wrestler’s eyes moved between them as they chatted. Fuck, he thought. Beautiful people, both idealized in their respective ways, Brandon's confident masculinity, Heather's strong, self-assured femininity. They spoke with each other as they munched their way through the meal, involving Trevor briefly now and again, but he couldn't really hear; his mind buzzed with the double dose of attraction.
Brandon's sarcastic glance caught his. "Stop looking at my sister like that."
Trevor's face registered his surprise. "Like what?" Was he serious? So damn hard to tell sometimes.
"She's my fucking sister. Don't touch her. And you," Brandon growled, turning to his sister, "you keep trying to take my men."
Heather laughed. Evidently she saw right through her brother. Trevor relaxed. She looked at the wrestler impishly. "It's your fault. Start bringing home ugly guys and you can have them all to yourself."
Brandon chuckled. "He is a keeper, isn't he?"
"So, Brandon tells me you like the ladies too." Heather swallowed the last of her juice.
Trevor grinned. "Yeah. I guess I'm bi."
Brandon stood to clear the plates. "Thing is, we've both got the same taste in men. So we keep flirting with the guys the other brings home."
Heather smiled. "You should see how some of my guys react when he offers to suck them off."
Brandon set the dishes in the sink with a clunk. "What's funnier is when they let me and she walks in."
Trevor shook his head. "You people are nuts."
Heather smiled as she stood. She straddled his waist and sat on his knees. Her hands rubbed over his shoulders. "What do you do to get this ripped?"
"I wrestle." He managed to tear his eyes from her boobs; their eyes met. That surge of confidence Melissa had taught him rushed in. "You like ripped guys like me?"
Heather smiled. "Yeah. You like hot chicks like me?"
He gave her a rakish grin. "Hell yes."
Heather stood and pulled Trevor to his feet; she pushed him against the wall, her fingers finding his pectoral. Brandon leaned against the stove and folded his arms, watching as his sister pressed in and kissed Trevor. The wrestler's hand squeezed her breast as the pair locked lips hungrily. Trevor couldn't help but contrast the two, Brandon's hard power with Heather's supple smoothness; both exuded the same aggressive sexuality, both the same confidence. God, how did he get so lucky?
Trevor turned Heather's body and pressed her against the wall, pinning her hands above her head, diving into her neck. He exhaled as Brandon's powerful shirtless body pressed against his back, the man's hands on his waist, his lips pressing against Trevor’s ear.
"Fuck," he breathed. Sandwiched between these two, each one an incarnation of different aspects of everything he found attractive, his head spun like a piece of metal between opposing magnetic poles. Brandon's cock ground against his ass as his cock ground against Heather's waist. Her breasts squashed against his chest as her brother's defined musculature pressed against his back.
Suddenly, Brandon turned Trevor to face him; he ducked and heaved Trevor to his shoulders in a fireman's carry. "Let's go," he said as Trevor laughed, angling the wrestler helplessly down the hall. Heather opened the door to her bedroom. A queen-sized bed dominated the center of the room; the room was a bit larger than Brandon's, though still Spartan. It had the touches of femininity: window treatments to hide the mini-blinds, stuffed animals on a shelf, the hint of perfume on the air, the brassiere hanging out over the edge of the hamper. Brandon tossed Trevor to the center of the bed; he and his sister quickly stripped, their remaining clothes forgotten on the floor. Brandon climbed onto the bed to Trevor's right; Heather to his left.
They kissed him, passing his face back and forth like a party favor as their hands fought for real estate on his chest and abs. Heather opened his fly and reached in, sliding her hand over his cock and across his balls as Brandon nibbled as his nipple; the swimmer's hand joined his sister's as she followed his lead on Trevor's other nipple. Trevor moaned and his hand found their shoulders, rubbing at their backs.
The sole sexual focus of two people at once. Trevor had never felt so deliciously helpless, so overwhelmed with oozing sexuality. One a man, one a woman, both for him. "I can't believe it," he muttered.
The siblings looked up at him. "What?" asked Heather.
Trevor grinned like a boy. "You're both so hot, and I've got you both."
They both gave him that sarcastic smile. "You want to fuck my brother's ass?"
Trevor's grin broadened. Dirty girl. "Yeah."
"You want to fuck my sister's pussy?"
"Yeah."
"You want my brother to fuck me?"
Trevor's nose wrinkled while he tried to process what he'd just heard.
Brandon went deadpan. "Well, you can't. That would be gross, you fucking pervert." It was one of those moments that nobody can explain what was so funny, but all three busted up.
"But..." Trevor asked, recovering, "don't you feel weird being naked around each other?"
Brandon shrugged. "We've never had a problem with it."
"Years ago," Heather explained. "After Mom died, our dad took a job where he was out in the mornings. We couldn't seem to get up in time to get ready for school, so we started using the bathroom at the same time to get ready faster. Pretty soon, we just didn't care when the other got out of the shower naked. It just doesn't matter anymore."
Alright, Trevor thought. Odd, but alright. "So how often do you get a guy like me in bed with both of you?"
"Actually," purred Heather, leaning in. "Not much. You," she gave him a peck, "are a treat."
Trevor smiled and pulled her back in; they kissed deeply while Brandon tugged Trevor's pants off and nestled between his legs, licking his scrotum. Trevor's horniness snapped back into place and he wrapped his arms around Heather and draped his legs across Brandon's back. It'd been months, he realized, since he'd had sex with a woman this passionate; the couple of girls he'd been with had been the type that just laid there until he was done with them. Heather wanted him, was evidently turned on by him, and he reveled in it. They kissed harder as her brother wrapped his lips around Trevor's shaft.
Heather rose and turned; she straddled his face and settled down, leaning over to share his cock with her brother as Trevor hungrily consumed what he'd found. The siblings switched back and forth as the minutes ticked by. "Damn," breathed Trevor. "You're as good at that as he is."
"He's taught me a thing or two," Heather offered. Then she buried his cock down her throat as Trevor moaned. Brandon lifted the wrestler's legs and nuzzled in, sliding his tongue a few times from Trevor's asshole across his perineum to his balls before spreading his ass cheeks and diving in.
Trevor gurgled a muffled groan as Brandon's tongue poked at him. A rim job and a blowjob at the same time - that was new, he reflected, and he stuck his tongue deeper in response as Heather squirmed against him.
"Heather, you gotta try this sweet ass," Brandon encouraged.
"Yeah? I was wondering if you were gonna share."
Heather slid down Trevor's body; she tucked his thighs under her arms and bowed her head, digging in like a pro. "Oh, fuck," breathed Trevor, his hands gripping her supple waist. Brandon swung around; he knelt across Trevor's chest and wrapped the wrestler's arms behind his knees. Trevor felt the swimmer's powerful grip on his ankles; Brandon settled back, pulling at his legs, rolling his butt into the air while giving him a face full of ass. Heather took advantage of the easier access, diving in anew, adding a fingertip to her prodding; Trevor smelled the stale cum still pervading Brandon's crack. His old, crusty cum from last night's hard sloppy fucking. So hot. He feasted on the swimmer's asshole, tasting his own salty deposits and Brandon's dried sweat. A brutish, manly odor that drove him wild; he tried to thrust his hips, use his hands, anything to express his sexual arousal, but they'd pinned his body to the bed as tightly as any wrestling move. He could only press his palms against Brandon's waist and attack the man with his tongue. Brandon ground down against him, riding his face like a
Dildo pressing his asshole against the wrestler's nose, sliding his crack across Trevor's tongue, using him. Pinned, abused, used, Trevor's body burned in heat; he'd never been more turned on. His muffled grunts and groans told the story.
Sensing his desperation, Brandon finally released him; Trevor unfolded, his face covered with his spit, his sweating chest heaving as the siblings rolled off him. "God that was hot," he breathed. He rose to his knees. "I've gotta fuck something."
Eeny meeny miney moe. He grabbed Heather's wrist and pulled her roughly in front of him, shoving her face into the mattress. "Come on, fuck me," she pleaded. He wedged his cock against her, ready to plunge.
Suddenly, a tube of lubricant and a condom materialized in front of his face. He looked at Brandon. "Oh, you gotta be kidding me."
"Those are the rules. Do it."
Frantically, he applied the prophylactic and lube. He gripped Heather's hips and rammed into her; she moaned and he fucked her hard, his thighs slapping against her ass. Brandon stood to his side and pulled his face over, hand on the back of his head, thrusting into his mouth. Cock in a pussy, dick in the mouth. Another new thing, the rational shred of his mind noted; the irrational part reveled in the gag reflex Brandon's cockhead triggered as it jammed roughly into his throat.
Heather rose to her knees; Trevor's hands found her breasts as her head twisted and their lips met. Trevor alternated between Brandon's cock and kissing his sister. "You like watching me suck your brother off?"
"Yeah, babe."
"You like me sucking your faggot brother’s hard cock while I fuck your wet little pussy, bitch?"
"Fuck, yeah. Fuck me harder!"
Brandon grabbed his hair. "Less talk." He yanked Trevor roughly onto his cock. Heather twisted her body and wrapped her arm around Trevor's neck; she used it to shove him harder onto her brother's dick. Trevor gagged a little then gagged a lot. Pulling off, coughing, a rope of sticky spit stretched between his lips and Brandon's cock. He gripped Heather's ponytail and jerked her head back, growling at her; he spit into her mouth and kissed her, trying to suck it back out. He felt her body spasm around his cock; she moaned into his mouth. Their kiss broke as her body shook. He tugged on her ponytail and watched her face redden in pleasure, his hips powering against her. "Yeah, fuck me hard!" she cried.
Trevor realized Brandon's hand had been furiously stroking his cock; seconds later, Brandon yanked at his hair again. "Don't spit, don't swallow." He shoved his cock into Trevor's mouth and his semen erupted, squirting and pooling on the wrestler's tongue. The swimmer's body bucked, his breath came in gasps, but his waist remained almost still; not a drop of cum escaped.
Heather had collapsed gasping onto her stomach; Brandon settled down next to her. "Lube me up," he commanded. Trevor grinned and crouched down; he dribbled the swimmer's cum into his crack and worked at it with his fingers, pressing in to the base, working a second in. Brandon's ass gyrated; he moaned. Heather spun around and watched Trevor's face as it loomed over her brother's ass. "Yeah, finger-fuck me. Work that cum in."
Trevor dribbled the last of the load and smeared at it, his fingers shiny and slick as his arm shoved them in and out. Heather gripped the back of his head and they locked lips; she relished the remnants of her brother's cum on Trevor's lips. Trevor grinned at her as the kiss broke. "Kinky," he muttered.
Finally, Brandon rose and pushed the wrestler to his back. He tugged the condom off Trevor's cock and straddled his waist, settling back, burying Trevor's bare shaft to the hilt in his slick asshole. He lifted and settled once more, setting a steady, brisk rhythm. Heather straddled his face again, smelling of lube and juices. Trevor thrust his hips as he delved into her, his cock burying deep inside Brandon's body with each stroke.
Heather slid forward. Well, what the hell? he thought as he attacked her asshole to her approving moan. Minutes passed; Heather alternatively slid forward and back, offering Trevor a buffet of anatomy; Brandon rode, his grunts manly and seductive.
Trevor peeked out from between Heather's legs. Brandon's tight, powerful body, bouncing up and down, his flaccid cock swinging in the air. He'd leaned forward; Heather's hand rested on his shoulder, his arm outstretched and braced against her neck. Their foreheads touched; their eyes had closed. The touch was plutonic, innocent, yet indicative of such familiarity, comfort, intimacy, brotherly love. Brandon's face burned into Trevor's mind - he rode the wrestler because he knew it made Trevor feel good. His face reflected the satisfaction of the selfless giving of pleasure. He reveled in it, in serving Trevor, and Trevor felt sexy, felt desired, felt wanted, felt turned on. The spark ignited. He groaned. Brandon's eyes opened and he leaned back, sliding his hips back and forth in that way that he'd found that Trevor loved, his cock deep and slashing around in Brandon's bowels. In seconds, Trevor's cock pulsated in pleasure that radiated and gripped his gut, twisting it to a knot, making his body twitch. After last night, there wasn't much cum to shoot; but what did plunged deep into Brandon's body as the white heat flared and died.
The siblings laid to each side of Trevor and rested their hands on his spent body as he caught his breath.
"Hey, Brandon," Trevor turned his head to look.
"Yeah?"
"I fucked your sister. She was great."
Heather laughed. Brandon chuckled and rolled in for a peck. "You can fuck her anytime you want. As long as you fuck me anytime I want."