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"I don't want to!"

"Please, Decker!"

"No! I've got stuff to do."

"But I'm asking you nicely!"

The spotted horse didn't respond this time, staring down at his phone and tapping with both thumbs. Ethan huffed and puffed, trying to catch his brother's eye, but Decker refused to look back up. The younger horse injected even more desperation into his tone and tried again.

"Please, Decker! C'mon! Just for a bit. It won't be that long. I just want to seeeee..."

Tap, tap. Taptaptap. The older horse looked straight down, his pale mane hanging over his face, chewing at his upper lip as he focused on the screen in front of him. Ethan balled his hands into frustrated fists on the tablecloth and let himself go full whiny-younger-brother. He knew it made him sound like he was seven rather than seventeen, but maybe it would do the trick.

"Decker...pleeeeease...Deckkkkerrrr..." He lowered his head to the table surface, peering up under his brother's fringe, trying to catch his eye. "Pleeeeeeeeee--!"

"Ethan," his mother snapped, "stop badgering your brother." The grey stallion looked over at her forlornly.

"Mom," he begged, making his eyes wide and innocent, "please make him come with me?" He looked desperately back at his brother. "He's not even doing anything lately! He just spends all day looking at girls on social media."

"I'm not," Decker mumbled, but he put his phone down--face first--and picked up a spoon, taking a mouthful of oats and chewing it with exaggerated slowness.

"Ethan," his mother sighed, hands wrapped around an enormous mug of coffee, "not now. Please. I just got home." Her oceanography work kept her away for months at a time; she had returned home from three months on a nameless Atlantic island only days before. "Can't you go to the next one?" she suggested. "It's not the last party in the world, dear."

"Can I go by myself next time?" the grey stallion immediately asked.

His mother opened her mouth, then frowned. "We'll see," she equivocated, and Ethan groaned and dropped his head into his hands.

"You always say that, and it always means no!" He blew a hot snort of air against the tablecloth. "Can Dad take me?"

"He's busy."

"He's always busy."

His mother sighed again. "Yes, Ethan," she explained wearily. "That's what it means to have a job. You know, like my job is dealing with you: the most childish teenager in the world."

Ethan groaned and grabbed handfuls of the tablecloth in his fingers. "I just want to see..." he mumbled. "One time."

He turned his head in time to see his mother giving his older brother a tired look, followed by a long, aggravated sigh from Decker. "Where is it?" the older horse snapped, and hope blossomed inside Ethan. He tried not to trip over his own words as he frantically tried to remember.

"It's, um, it's at, um, Pete's house--"

"Peter Ulnack?" Decker asked sharply. Ethan nodded, and the spotted horse's eyes narrowed. When he said, "_O_kay, I guess" the younger horse jumped to his feet so fast he knocked his chair over.

"Hey!" his mother snapped. "Manners!" She narrowed her eyes on him, but even that couldn't cow the upbeat colt.

"Sorry, Mom! Thankyouthankyou!" Ethan giggled, quivering with excitement, but tried to calm his tone. "Thank you, Decker," he said formally. His brother blew a breath up to lift his fringe a little, but said nothing. That was fine. He'd already agreed, and he couldn't back out now. The colt bounced up and down nervously. "Okay so it's at seven and it's just up the road we can walk and I just want to go for a bit only a couple hours it won't be long thank you!" He grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and made a dash for his room before either of the other horses could change their minds.

At last. He was going to get to go to a house party.

He showered two hours early, was dressed an hour ahead of time, and was standing--or at least pacing--by the door thirty minutes before. The party was six minutes' walk away; thirty seemed a reasonable buffer. When his mother passed by at one point and paused to pick a piece of invisible lint off of his shirt, he grinned and puffed out his chest. "Very handsome, son," she said with a smile. "Have fun, okay?"

Ethan grinned and nodded. "I will, Mom!"

"I told Decker you can't stay later than eleven, alright?" She fussed a little more with her son's mane. "And make sure you do whatever your brother tells you to."

"Okay, Mom." She kissed his forehead and headed off.

With ten minutes to go, the colt grew antsy. "Decker!" he called up the stairs. "We're going to be late!"

"No, we're not," came the muffled reply from his brother's room. "I can see the house from here. Relax."

Ethan fussed with his hands, watching the clock like a hawk as the minutes circled round. "Decker!" he whined. "It's five to seven! We have to go!"

At three minutes to, his brother sauntered downstairs in a leather jacket and jeans. He'd brushed his mane and tied it into a ponytail, and his hooves shone with the tell-tale sheen of a fresh coat of polish. For someone who seemed utterly disinterested in what he was doing, he'd sure put in more than minimal effort. Ethan quivered with nervous energy, trying to mentally will his brother to move faster.

"Come on, Decker!" he pleaded. "We'll be late!"

"You can't be late for a party," his brother informed him, checking himself in the mirror and adjusting a few mane hairs. "The cool people always show up after it starts."

"But I'm not cool! I don't want to be late!"

Decker rolled his eyes in the mirror and turned to his brother. "It'll be fine, trust me! Jeez, so eager." Something seemed to occur to him, and he cocked his head at Ethan with a hint of a smirk. "Is there a specific reason you want to get there so soon. bro?"

Ethan fidgeted. "I just...don't want to be late," he said awkwardly It was rude to be late. And if he was late, he might miss seeing Barton arrive. In his cool car. And maybe in those leather pants that he'd bragged about at school which apparently fit him so tightly that when he got a hard-on "it looks like I'm smuggling salami".

"Yeah?" Decker put a hand on his brother's shoulder, his grin growing wider by the second. "Maybe a reason that has...two legs? And...something hot in between them?"

For a frozen moment, Ethan was terrified. Decker couldn't possibly know. Nobody knew. How...how had he...?

But his brother took his sibling's shocked expression to mean something else and cackled delightedly. "Well, hot damn!" he said in admiration. "Little bro might not finish school a virgin after all!" He looked about quickly, then lowered his voice. "What's her name?"

"Her..." Ethan let his panicked breath out in a rush. "Uh..."

Decker patted his back, suddenly all charm and condescension. "Alright, Casanova, I get it. Come on: let's get you to the scene of your future victory." He opened the front door, shepherding his stumbling brother out into the night. "And let me give you a few tips on the way..."

Ethan heard barely one word in ten of what his brother said as they walked up the road to the house where the party was. Those he did, he regretted. There was something about what you could do with your fingers to get a mare's pussy...wet? They got wet? Why? Ethan blinked, trying to erase the mental image of a mare with spread legs and a waterfall gushing out from between her thighs. Mares scared him--and not only for how they could lock onto your eyes with a stare like a laser beam from across any distance and transmit silent messages down the link. I know what you did, and I disapprove. No, it was mostly the idea of being alone with one. Having her stroking his body, and smiling at him...and then reaching for his cock, and finding out how flaccid it was. Instantly divining the truth about him.

Someone's more interested in sausage and eggs than tacos.

"...and she squirted right into my eye!" Decker slapped his thigh and cackled. "It was fucking epic!"

That meat-hook of a sentence dragged Ethan back into the moment. "What?" he said, horrified. They got wet--and then they squirted?

He didn't want to have any of this knowledge.

"Yep," Decker said, smirking. "I'm kind of a stud, bro." He had one arm draped over his brother's shoulders; its warm weight helped to displace some of Ethan's nerves. The grey stallion was glad his brother was here: he just wished he wasn't also so fucking eager to lay out the fine details of his conquests. It was almost enough to make Ethan want to tell him the truth right now, simply to make it stop...

The stallion looked up at the night sky. Hm. It was only them on the street. No risk of anyone else hearing. Perhaps...should he? His heart thudded at the thought. He was fairly sure Decker would be understanding and probably supportive: it was just such a big step. But when would he get a better chance?

"Decker...hey. Um. I..." His brain stumbled over a sudden mental block.

His brother glanced over. "Hm?" Ethan stopped walking, and his brother frowned and turned to him. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Ethan said thickly. "I wanted to say...uh..." The words that had seemed so easy in his head turned into boulders in his throat. He stood, mouth open, looking awkwardly at his brother's face. "I..." Nope, nope, nope. Eject! "...I'm glad you agreed. To come with me."

"Oh." Decker smiled his warm, genuine smile. "Yeah, sure, bro. I didn't know why you wanted to go, so I sort of ignored you." He ruffled Ethan's mane. "'cos you can be kinda annoying, you know? If I'd known you were horny for some sweet mare pussy--!" He lifted his face to the sky and yelled the word, making Ethan gasp and go pale."I'd have agreed immediately. Stallions do for other stallions, right?"

"Heh," Ethan said nervously. Some stallions do other stallions, too. They kept on walking, and he frowned. He really hoped the existence of this putative girlfriend wouldn't become a regular topic between the two of them, or Decker might continue trying to "educate" him. Perhaps he could tell his brother she'd moved away. Or died.

The muted sounds of music grew louder as they approached the house where the party was. Coloured lights flashed against the branches of a tree that rose above the roof from the rear of the house, and the sounds of young people talking loudly and enjoying themselves made Ethan's heart thud. This was so cool. He was going to be at a house party, hanging out with people. Maybe even--

"Oh, hey Ethan."

The horse turned to see Barton flashing a smile at him as he approached the house from another direction. The tiger had a leather jacket slung over one shoulder, and his muscular legs strained to escape the leather they were wrapped in. The feline's beautiful bright smile wiped the power of conscious action from the colt's mind, and he stared slackly after the tiger as the cat headed up the path to the porch. When he pulled the front door open, laughter and light spilt out of it, and Ethan drank it in raptly.

"One of your friends?" Decker was looking over at him, and Ethan nodded.

"Yeah."

This would be the best night ever.

---

This was the worst night ever.

Ethan sat alone in a corner, a mostly empty cup of something in his hand. Behind him, a huge speaker thumped out a nameless beat that drowned out all other sounds. He stared at the packed masses of people filling the house, watching their mouths move and hands gesticulate as if in silence. They all seemed like puppets.

He took a final sip of whatever he'd filled his cup with, then stood and awkwardly pushed through the other people to the table filled with soft drink bottles. A bowl of punch sat next to them, and he stared at it, then looked around. There was no sign of his brother. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen Decker for a while. No brother, no chaperone. Ethan looked back down at the punch. None of them were old enough to drink, but from his darkened corner of solitude, he'd watched more than a few bottles of what couldn't have been water be surreptitiously introduced to it. He could grab a cup of that. Maybe that would help take the edge off...but he'd need to drink a lot more than one cup to forget the last two hours. He was the only one with that problem, though. Apart from Barton's greeting outside, nobody else had even acknowledged him. Stupid idea. Stupid party. Stupid cool people.

He poured a soda.

Through the glass doors at the back of the house, he could see a circle of people playing hackysack. Their faces were beaming, and every time someone missed a kick, they would all collapse with laughter. He sighed and turned, ready to push back through the wall of bodies to his chair--only to see it now occupied by a couple, mouths locked together, hands roving. He stared a moment longer, then looked away before anyone noticed. The horse spun slowly in place, looking for another spot to make his own, but every other nook was brightly lit or full of people. Fuck sakes. He should simply go home. But then his mother would ask questions, and she'd probably use this as ammunition if he ever wanted to go out again. On the other hand, he didn't want to keep standing around here like an awkward giraffe.

He walked to the stairs and climbed them.

The carpet at the top of the staircase was loose, and he caught his hoof in it as he stepped off, spilling his drink across the floor. "Shit!" He stared forlornly at the wet mark, then sighed and left his empty cup on the bannister. What a succinct fucking summary of his night so far.

The reduction in thumping bass on the second floor was a relief, though, and he paused to stare down the hallway. You weren't supposed to go upstairs at these things, he knew that. You stayed downstairs to dance and laugh and make out. Upstairs was off-limits. But he was considerate. He wouldn't make a mess...uh, more of a mess. He just really needed to be by himself for a bit.

He walked down the hallway, the downstairs noises fading further with every step, the thick carpet muffling his hoofsteps. Most of the doors were shut; he ignored those. One near the end was ajar, though, and he drifted towards it. A bedroom, probably. He'd stare at it, then leave. Or go inside. It didn't matter. He just needed some arbitrary visual inputs while he tried to deal with the disappointment of the evening. Perhaps sitting on a stranger's bed would bring things into focus. He reached the door to the bedroom and pushed it open wider. It swung silently, only creaking a little at the end, and he took another step inward--and then froze when he saw Decker.

His brother stood in front of a dresser. One hand rested on the handle of a drawer he'd pulled open, and the other was holding a piece of female underwear, pressing it to his nose as he breathed in deeply. His eyes were closed, but they snapped open at the creak of the door, and the brothers locked eyes. Ethan's mouth dropped, and Decker' hand released the underwear to let it fall back into the drawer. Apart from the now-faint bass from downstairs, the room was utterly silent for a moment.

"What are you--?"

"It's not--!"

They spoke over one another, stopped, did it again. Ethan turned to look behind him, heart thudding as if the magnitude of what he'd seen would summon his whole class to materialise and ogle over his shoulder. But they were still alone, and he quickly shut the door, hearing his brother closing the drawer behind him as he did so.

When the young stallion turned back around, Decker was leaning against the dresser, one hand stuck in his pocket, a careless look on his face. He met his brother's eyes again and raised his eyebrows. "Already done partying?"

"What?" The stallion blinked and shook his head. "Decker, what were you doing?"

Decker shrugged. "Not hurting anyone." He pushed himself upright. "Wanna grab some punch? I saw someone adding some fun to it. You can have some; I won't tell Mom. A bit of liquid courage to let you talk up the ladies, yeah? Is your mare friend here?"

He'd had a small chance of succeeding with the bribe--before that last bit. "No," Ethan said firmly. "You shouldn't be...up here, Decker." He couldn't bring himself to say you shouldn't be smelling a stranger's underwear. Surely it wasn't on him to tell his brother that that was weird?

Decker looked nonplussed. "Yeah, well," he snapped, "neither should you, then."

"I'm not!" His face flushed. "I mean, I was just...looking."

Decker spread his hands innocently. "Hey, me too. But there aren't any mares up here, bro."

Again with the mare thing. Ethan felt his annoyance rise. "Just their underwear, right?" he retorted. "Do you even know whose room is this?"

"Katia," Decker said instantly. Ugh. One of the girls he leered at on his phone, probably. The look of distaste on Ethan's face must have been obvious because his brother sighed and rolled his eyes. "Come on, bro," he said pettily. "Get over it. I know her." Ethan doubted that. "She works at the Seven Eleven. Anyway, it's the closest I'll get to some pussy tonight. I'm sorry you didn't get lucky, but it's not my fault you struck out with your sexy lady--"

"I didn't strike out!" Ethan flinched at how loud his voice was and lowered it to a hiss. "Shut up!"

"So you did get laid?" His brother grinned. "Nice!"

Ethan's hands had balled into fists at some point. "Fuck you!" he snarled. His heart was thudding worse than it had when he'd walked into the room, and his belly was trying and failing to tie the same knot, over and over.

Decker frowned, then waved a hand dismissively. "Okay, whatever, bro. I'm trying to be nice, but I don't know what you want from me. Did she say yes, or no? I can't figure--"

"There's no 'she'! I don't like fucking girls!"

Silence returned, punctuated by the indistinct noises of others having fun. Ethan felt the tears like hot pinpricks in the corners of his eyes, but he didn't break the stare. Decker was looking at him with wide eyes, and when he spoke, it was as if guiding someone's careful steps through a minefield.

"Does that mean...you just don't like fucking them, or...?"

Ethan looked down at last as he wiped the tears away with the back of his hand. He hated himself for crying, but it had all been too much. The crushing disappointment of the party, and then the shock of finding his brother doing...what he'd been doing, and then the constant assumptions about what he liked when he really didn't, and the stress of keeping the secret...

"Ethan." He looked up to see Decker sitting on the bed, patting the spot next to him. "Come sit."

The young stallion sniffed again and walked over, sitting down without looking at his brother. He felt an arm slide around his shoulders and tensed up, pulling into himself. Decker didn't press it, and just let his arm hang awkwardly off his younger brother's peaked shoulders as he let out a long, slow breath. "Ethan," he said, and Ethan flinched, waiting for the hammer blow. But his brother's voice remained level. "You are, by far, the most annoying guy I know. You exhaust me." Ethan's heart sank further. "But--and it's a big but--you're still my brother. And I care about you. Even when you're a little shit. Which is, like, all the time."

Ethan stared down at the carpet between his hooves. He wasn't entirely sure if that all added up to a positive, but at least Decker hadn't said he hated him. Then the arm around his shoulders tightened and pulled him in closer.

"Does anyone else know?" Decker asked softly. Ethan shook his head. His brother was silent for a moment.

"So...I'm your first?" he asked. Ethan nodded, and Decker rocked back. "Wow." When Ethan looked over with a frown, he quickly added, "I mean...I'm sorry, bro, if there's like something...special I should say? Or something?" He gave an awkward shrug. "I don't really know anything about this."

Ethan smiled wanly and looked back at the floor. "'s fine," he murmured. His heart didn't feel like it was trying to break out of his rib cage anymore, at least. And when Decker pulled him in even closer, resting his head on top of his brother's, Ethan let loose a sigh. They sat like that for a while, silently, and by the time Decker spoke again, Ethan almost felt normal.

"I'm touched, bro," his brother said. "Really. That you told me." He seemed to realise something. "And sorry about the mare comments. I thought you were just...I dunno. Shy around girls. Thought I was helping you."

Ethan nodded. "Thanks. I guess. But...yeah. Don't do it more, please."

"I won't." A half-second, and then his brother chuckled. "About mares, anyway."

Ethan looked over in dismay. "Decker," he begged, "no, please! No jokes! If Mom or Dad hears..." It was one thing to tell his sibling. Imagining explaining it to his parents made his stomach churn.

"Okaaaay," his brother sighed, withdrawing his arm from around Ethan and picking at his mane, looking thoughtfully over at his sibling. Ethan looked back.

"What?" he asked, flustered.

Decker held up a hand in warning. "Okay. So. As I said, I don't know anything about this, okay? So, don't freak out. But, like...does your own dick turn you on?" He glanced down at his brother's crotch. "Do you see it in the shower and think, like, yeah, shit, I'd love to suck myself? Or...whatever...you know."

"Uh." His brother's face was calm, eyes guileless. Ethan stared, wide-eyed, unsure how to even answer that. Did his own dick make him horny? He'd never considered it. Horniness started in the dick, he supposed, but that was different. "I...dunno? Uh..."

It suddenly occurred to him that this might be the most personal conversation the two of them had shared in years. As it should be, given how he'd only just come out to Decker and all, but still. He hadn't felt that he and his brother were close for ages. A long time ago maybe, when they'd both been in the same school, but their two-year difference meant that Decker had moved on ahead of him, and when Ethan had caught up, his older sibling been...different.

He'd still talk to Ethan at home, in passing, but at school it seemed as if having a younger brother was something Decker considered a liability. He'd spent his free time with the kids of his own age and barely acknowledged the younger stallion's existence. At first, Ethan had been hurt...but then puberty had hit, and things had gotten so much more complicated for the stallion that an older brother that didn't want to sit with him at lunch break had ceased to be a running concern.

The heart-to-heart they'd just had was the closest they'd been since those early days, and it was great. But his brother was still a different person to the one he grew up with. Not only older. The way he spent so much time looking at girls on social media...and what Ethan had caught him doing when he walked in. And his detailed--fuck, so fucking detailed, never again, mother have mercy--breakdowns of his sexual encounters? And now the question about his dick?

Ethan was sure Decker wasn't gay, and probably not even bi, but he did seem to be kind of a free-for-all horndog. Which was fine, he supposed. But what confused him was why that realisation turned him on a bit.

He opened his mouth to change the topic, but a sudden thud from outside made his heart leap into his mouth. It had come from the landing. He knew what it was: someone had tripped over the same loose bit of carpet at the top of the stairs as him. Panic dropped into his belly like a lead weight. If someone from school found him in here...or what if it was Katia? Two stallions, sitting in a stranger's room...and maybe they'd realise the drawer had been opened...oh, fuck, no, no...

He heard low voices and chuckling. They were getting closer. He looked in fear at Decker, who's eyes were sliding about wildly. "There!" his brother hissed, gesturing with his muzzle at a built-in wardrobe enclosed by a pair of louvre doors. The horses rose and hurried towards it, only the thick carpet muffling their heavy steps. The wardrobe doors were well-oiled, thank fuck, and inside were only some piles of winter clothing and a couple of hanging jackets. The stallions both fit by ducking a little, and Ethan's shaking hands tugged the slatted doors shut. This close to them, he could see right through the gaps; he could only hope the gloom would keep them from being as visible from outside.

The door to the room opened, and the brothers held their breath. Unexpectedly, Barton slid inside, accompanied by a mare Ethan didn't recognise. She was giggling and running her hand over the tiger's chest. Barton grinned toothily and shut the door behind the two of them, then whispered something to her that made her mouth drop open.

"You do not!" The mare seemed scandalised, but thrilled.

"I do." Barton smirked with lazy self-confidence. One finger tapped his nose. "If it lands here, I lick it off. To know if I need to adjust my diet for pretty ladies like you."

The mare giggled and looked down at Barton's leather pants, and the tiger obliged by tucking his thumbs into the pockets and pulling on them, making sure the outline of his extremely hard dick was easily visible. "Do you want a taste?" he said softly, and the mare looked back up at him and smiled, taking his bulge in hand.

"Fuck that," she whispered. "Let's fuck instead."

A low hum filled Ethan's brain as he watched his high school crush undo his pants and pull out a beautiful, hard, pink tiger cock. He'd seen it in the showers before. Sort of; sheaths didn't always tell the truth about what they carried. In this case, though, it really fucking had. The tiger's dick was long and thick, with an overhanging foreskin that the mare seemed to like. She took it between her fingers, tugging and playing with it as the tiger mewled, drool running from his mouth. Then she turned to rest her hands on the bed, and hiked her tail, and looked back over her shoulder at the feline. "Coming in?" she teased.

As Barton growled and moved closer to her, cock in hand, Ethan heard another sound. It took him a moment to realise it was constrained panting and was coming from next to him. He looked across at his brother in shock. One of Decker's hands was gripping the clothes rail above them, but the other was intently rubbing at his crotch through his clothes. Ethan stared at him in disbelief. Really? Really? Now? Here? His fucking horndog brother, seemingly undaunted by the prospect of being caught in what was now probably a minor felony--_oh fuck, I don't want a criminal record, they can't try me, I'm a junior, oh fuck, oh fuck--_was getting horny from the sight of two strangers making out. Ethan wanted to hiss at his brother, to tell him to fucking control himself, but he dare not risk it. Did Decker even remember where they were?

A low moan from the couple on the bed made him glance back. The mare's panties were around her ankles now, and Barton's cock was halfway inside her. The tiger's face was blissful, and the mare's eyes were closed as she nickered and pushed back against her lover. Then there was a rustling sound beside him, and he looked across in horror to see his brother pushing his pants down to fish his cock out and start stroking it. His hand sliding along the length with practised focus, his gaze fixed on the tiger and the mare.

Some sort of small creature became trapped in Ethan's throat. He couldn't breathe. This could not be happening! The only way getting caught in here could be made worse is if one of them was jerking off at the same time! Fucking Decker!

He had to do something. Perhaps he could dig an elbow into his brother's side, or kick his fetlock with a hoof, or even risk a soft and sharp admonishment. One of those was bound to work, and his brother would tuck his dick away. The only problem was...he'd been thinking about it for several seconds already and hadn't done anything. And now he was thinking about how he was thinking about it...and he still wasn't doing anything.

Because if he did do something, then his brother would tuck his dick away. And Decker had a really pretty dick.

Even if he hadn't been family, his brother was--to put it mildly--not Ethan's type. But in the dark, claustrophobic, and rapidly warming atmosphere of the wardrobe, he couldn't see a brother. He could only see a shadowed figure gripping a very attractive equine penis. Some light filtered in at the level of both their crotches, making it easy for Ethan to see every detail, every vein and spot on the well-formed piebald's cock - and nothing else. It was as if a stranger stood beside him, showing off for his benefit. And the younger stallion couldn't look away.

Decker's cock was nice. More than nice: hot. Not overly long, probably sixteen inches crown to root, but shaped as if crafted by a master cocksmith. The shaft didn't narrow between the flare and the medial like his own cock. It was the same width all the way down, giving his brother's dick a look of solidity and heft. The flare was probably a bit on the small side, all told, but it only made the ensemble that much nicer to look at. More balanced. Decker's cock was coloured the same as the rest of him: a pale cream colour with dark spots scattered across it like thrown paint. The milky white flare pulsed gently as Decker's hand slid from underneath it down to his medial ring and back. Equine edging: a dangerous game. Misjudge your limits and in only a couple of seconds you'd end up with a real fucking mess to clean.

Ethan felt heat building in his face as he realised his pants were growing tighter. He'd chubbed up the moment he saw Barton's cock--but he wasn't looking at Barton anymore. And he wasn't getting any softer. He could smell his brother now, a hint of musk as they both began sweating in the close air, and more than a hint of cockscent. Ethan knew that one well; nothing could quite get rid of it. Horse cocks spent most of the day in a sheath, and that developed a certain "odour", as the Life Studies teacher had called it during what was clearly a desperately uncomfortable class for him. Ethan preferred to call it a fragrance: one better than any perfume. He'd only ever had his own to enjoy, but now...

He opened his nostrils wide and breathed in, his lip rising in flehmen of its own accord. Fuuuuck. Family or not: his brother's cock smelled amazing.

The couple outside was into the thick of it now, with Barton's strong thighs smacking against the mare's haunches with each hard thrust, his growls mixing with her moans and the sloppy wet sounds of his fucking. Decker's eyes were fixed on the sight, his body frozen, only his hand moving. Fluid glistened on the tip of his flare, and on every other stroke Decker brushed a thumb across it, spreading it across his flesh like a glaze. His brother's mouth hung open, and his panting was getting louder. He no longer seemed aware of where he was, or the risk of what he was doing. Ethan wondered how many times his brother had played out a fantasy like this in his head. If it was any bit as often as his own fantasies involving a post-game shower and the kangaroo quarterback, nothing short of a meteor strike would knock him out of it.

And deep down, if he was honest, he was enjoying the show.

But then Decker gave a very audible nicker, and chills ran down his brother's spine as his eyes snapped to the couple fucking only yards away. This was no fantasy. Without thinking he grabbed the end of his brother's muzzle, pressing it shut and holding it tightly. Shut the fuck up, you horny idiot! He watched his brother move his hand from his shaft to his flare, squeezing the softer flesh rhythmically now. Getting ready to orgasm. Was he enjoying being restrained like this? The air in their little hidey-hole was overheating, dough-thick with musk and stallion scent. Hopefully, neither the tiger nor the mare had anything but one another's scent in their heads, or the two stallions would be fucked.

The lovers gave no sign they'd heard anything, and as his pulse slowed, Ethan's gaze drifted back to Decker's horseprick. The blood-swollen equine length throbbed visibly now, the creamy, spotted surface shiny with pre-cum and sweat. Did his brother cum as much as he did? He'd measured his volume once, from a chart on a website. He was well above horse average. Not as much as a zebra, but close. If Decker was the same, then the way he was holding his dick, it'd shoot right into his palm and--

Oh. Fuck.

Decker's hand had fallen away, and he arched backwards, his cock hanging freely before him, flare swelling, his balls pulling up. Now? Now he chose to cum hands-free? The fucker! Ethan felt a new wave of panic. His idiot brother would spray right through the slats. The others couldn't help but notice a mess of horse semen dripping down the outside of a wardrobe. He had seconds, maybe less.

He grabbed the end of his brother's dick, gripping the flare right behind the corona, his palm right before the urethra, trying to form a closed bowl with his fingers. And not a moment too soon.

The flesh surged, and his hand on Decker's mouth was the only thing that stopped the horny idiot from giving a loud whinny as he came. Hot, wet fluid punched into Ethan's palm with noticeable force, and then did it again. His nose filled with the raw smell of stallion semen, and he had to shake his head to keep focusing on his moron of a brother. It smelled good. Different to his own. Better.

The shots kept coming; big bro clearly matched him for volume. After half a dozen watery ones, they got thicker, and after another handful, they stopped altogether. The flesh he was gripping started to grow flaccid, but Ethan kept his hand where it was. His fingers were soaked in horsecum, and he was afraid to even look at the state of the floor beneath them. But at least the wardrobe doors hadn't been ripped open by a furious naked tiger to find the two stallions doing...whatever the fuck it looked like they'd been doing.

He peered through the slats again and thanked the horsegod to see Barton standing away from the mare, hands on his hips, cock flaccid and shiny. They were done fucking. The mare was primly pulling her pants back up, giggling at various inconsequential compliments from her stud. Hopefully they'd leave soon and wouldn't start cuddling on the bed.

A hand came up to rest on his wrist, and he looked over to see his brother looking quizzically at him. He carefully loosened the iron grip he had on Decker's muzzle, and his sibling took a deep breath--then looked down at his brother's other hand. So did Ethan, and in silence they regarded the congealing evidence of his attempt to save them from discovery. As adrenaline, arousal and carbon dioxide levels dropped, the younger stallion felt them all replaced with much simpler ones.

Betrayal. And shame. And anger.

The bedroom door opened and closed; they were alone again. After a few more seconds, Ethan pushed the wardrobe open and strode into the room in silence, taking deep breaths of air that wasn't soaked in the scent of his brother's sexuality. Behind him, Decker gave a low whistle.

"Shiiit." He sounded drugged. "Fuck. That was..."

"What. The. Fuck? Decker?" Ethan hissed, whirling to face his brother, hands clenched. Decker finished tucking his penis back into his pants and looked up at his brother in surprise. "Are you fucking insane?" One of the fists was harder to hold closed than the other, slippery as it was with his brother's ample semen. He tried not to think about how it felt--or smelled. "Jerking off in a closet? Like you're still a horny fucking teenager? Did you want them to catch us?"

Decker's tongue slipped out of his mouth to run along his lips at that thought, and Ethan threw his hands in the air in despair. "Fuck, bro," he exclaimed. "What the fuck? Seriously. You're sick."

Decker's eyes narrowed. "Uh, how about fuck you right back, Mr I'm Gonna Grab My Brother's Dick While He Cums?"

"That's not what...you were gonna cum right against the slats! They would have seen it!"

"Oh, please! They weren't paying attention to anything except each other!"

"You don't know that!" Ethan ground his teeth in frustration. "Maybe you don't give a shit what happens to your life, Decker, but I don't fucking want to go to jail because my perv of a brother can't not get his rocks off watching people fuck! Or...sniffing their panties! Or...doing fuck knows what else!"

"Relax! Fuck sakes! Nothing happened. You're not going to jail."

"Nothing happened?" Ethan held up a hand, palm out; Decker's cum was congealing like gooey spiderwebs between his fingers. "So, this is a normal day for you? Cumming on my hand?"

"Bet you wish it was."

Ethan was blindsided by the casual arrogance of the comment. "The fuck does that mean?" he demanded.

Decker stepped closer, matching his brother's eyes. "You heard me." He was doing that thing again. Casual Decker. Arrogant Decker. Pretending he knew exactly what he was doing. Insouciant little smegma-streak. Fuck him. "He who throws the first stone, Ethan," he continued. He looked at his brother's white-streaked hand. "You called me sick, but I'm not hurting anyone. So yeah--I like watching. So what? I'm just an observer. They don't even know I'm there. But I can see everything. It's a sort of power." He shrugged. "That's not a sickness, bro. It's natural. It's how people are. We want to connect, to--"

"Decker," Ethan growled, "shut your lying fucking mouth. You're a dirty little voyeur. Don't try to put a fucking bow on it." He clenched his fist again; the horsecum was like glue now, the pale gel smearing out across his skin in a sticky film.

Decker's lip curled up. "Fine," he snapped. "If I'm sick, what are you?" He gave a triumphant grin. "Did you like looking at my cock, bro?"

Ethan wondered why the panic felt familiar--only to realise it was the same flavour as the one he'd felt earlier when he'd thought Decker knew about his sexuality. "Eat shit," he said weakly, turning away and looking for something to wipe his hand clean on. He couldn't have Decker's semen against his skin anymore. It was gross. He was gross. And the smell was...too much.

"I saw you looking at me, Ethan!" Decker insisted.

"F-fuck off." Ethan struggled to focus. "I wasn't--"

"I like being watched."

Bed cover. No. Too obvious. Curtain. Wrong sort. Won't absorb. Where, where. Something. Cloth. Drawer.

He couldn't think clearly, and the only piece of cloth he could think of was...

He tugged the drawer open, grabbed the panties his brother had been enjoying what felt like a millennium before and wiped his hand clean of the evidence of what he'd done. Decker--fuck him!--didn't stop talking throughout.

"It's like they're putting on a show for me, and they don't know it--and at the same time, I'm putting on a show for someone else, and I do know that. And it's so fucking hot and perfect and hot..."

Ethan scrubbed his palm until it throbbed red, the last pieces of dried cum catching in his hairs and ripping them out. The pain helped distract him from listening.

"Ethan." Fucking shut up! "it's really fucking intoxicating. They could catch you at any moment, there's so much risk, but that just makes it hotter, and...I'm sorry, bro, I'm not trying to freak you out, but when you grabbed my dick...fuuuck."

He stepped closer and took Ethan's shoulder. The stallion tried to twist out of it, but the older horse held on tightly. "It's okay if you like my dick," he said. "I liked that you watched, okay? It's like...part of me wants to be caught. It's hot. I...I guess we both got a bit of a perv gene or something."

"No." The word came out thickly, and Ethan blinked away tears. He couldn't vocalise what he felt, and it was frustrating him beyond measure. Decker didn't understand. Shit, his brother had only known Ethan was gay for about half an hour, and now he was unloading this on him? It was...too much. "Y-you had n-no..." Well, fuck. Now he was crying. Like a baby. Hot shame flooded his being. "N-n-n-no r-r-right..." He sobbed and thrust the panties back into the drawer, slamming it shut. "I'm n-n-n-not--"

Decker pulled him into a hug. Like he would do, back before they drifted apart. Ethan cried out, pushing his brother away, hitting his arms and sides. The fucking asshole! He could have ruined his life! And it wasn't true! He didn't like his brother's dick! He was just...it was just...it wasn't...

His huge fucking asshole dickcannon of a brother kept holding him, and Ethan finally gave in, burying his head in the crook of his brother's neck and letting the tears out. It felt good. This wasn't forgiveness by any means, and certainly not approval, but it had been a roller-coaster of a day. A cry was just what he needed.

When the waterworks ended, he sniffed and lifted his head, looking at Decker. His brother stared back seriously, then gestured for them both to sit on the bed. He took Ethan's hand and coughed.

"I'm sorry, bro," he said sincerely. Ethan blinked in surprise, but Decker's expression was genuine--even mournful. "I fucked up. Bad. I didn't mean to scare you or freak you out. You're right." He took a deep breath. "You're not like me. I'm sorry if I said you were. I didn't mean it. My dick was thinking for me, and I thought that when you, uh..." He faltered, then recovered. "I didn't use my brain. I was a complete dick for doing what I did. With you there. I shouldn't have put you in that position. I'm a shitty brother, and I'm sorry."

Ethan gave a deep sigh, ignoring the twinge of guilt, and stared into his brother's worried eyes. "And?" he said softly.

"And...?" Decker queried. When Ethan merely raised his eyebrows, his brother thought for a moment. "And...I'm sorry I, uh...I came on your hand. And that...I..." He finally figured it out. "And that I was, uh, enjoying Katia's, uh...underwear." Finally.

But then he pursed his lips and kept talking. "And...I know I don't exactly get to ask for anything right now, bro, but...please don't hate me?" There was a tremor of deep desperation in the question that almost had Ethan's waterworks going again. "We don't have to talk about it ever again, but it...nobody...no-one else knows. About what I like. And, like...um. It...it helps. That...you know. That it's...you. I mean. Not, like...someone else." He could barely put the sentences together. Ethan could relate--but, more than that, he was relieved to see a sign of insecurity from his older brother for once.

"As long as you don't tell about me," he said gravely.

"Bro." Earnestness radiated from Decker. "Of course. No, shit, yeah, without question. You don't even need to ask." He attempted a smile. "You're just gay. I'm the freak, right?"

"Heh." He twiddled his fingers. "Dunno about a freak." He shot Decker a sly look. "Maybe in volume."

Decker's eyes widened, and then he grinned. "Is it a lot?"

"Yeah."

His brother pumped a fist in the air. "Fuck yeah."

"Had to fucking stop you drowning the two of them or it would have been murder."

"Manslaughter, surely. Orgasms are involuntary."

"I don't know if the technicalities of killing a couple having sex by drowning them with your cum have been worked out in law yet."

Decker snorted, and Ethan smiled. They said in silence together for a while before Ethan finally gave a deep sigh. "Home time?" he suggested.

"Sure thing."

They left the party unnoticed and walked home. When they entered the house, their mother stuck her head around the corner of the living room, looking surprised.

"Home so soon?" she asked. "Didn't expect you for another hour."

"Some of the kids were getting a bit liberal with the punch," Decker said, looking across at his brother. "Figured it was best to get him home before things got rowdy." Ethan nodded along, and their mother frowned.

"Someone ought to tell their parents." Moral admonishment made, she turned away again. "I baked some pie if you boys want. It's in the kitchen."

"Thanks, Mom," Decker said. He turned to look at Ethan, smiling. "Pie?"

"No, thanks." He stared at his brother, considering what they both knew about one another that they hadn't a few hours before. What did that change? Everything, or nothing? "I'm...gonna go play some games."

"Oh, okay." Decker seemed a little disappointed. "Have fun."

Ethan took the stairs two at a time, turning into the bathroom on the way to his room. He shut the door and turned on the faucet, letting the water run as he rubbed his hand. Most of the cum was gone, left on the panties for a confused mare to find, but some remained. He stared at it. He couldn't help but remember where it had come from. The smell of the tight space he'd shared with his brother.

I like watching.

Such weird shit his brother was into. Ethan couldn't imagine what about that turned him on. Real fucking wasn't like porn. Hell, he'd seen his secret school crush naked right in front of him and he'd hardly looked at him. He did have a really nice cock, though. For a tiger. Ethan would not have minded taking the mare's place at all. Being the one bent over the bed, feeling the tiger's slick length sliding into him like one of his toys, moaning for him to push it deeper, deeper...

Glancing to the side. Knowing his brother was in the wardrobe, watching him get fucked and stroking his gorgeous dick...

His hand had risen to his muzzle somehow, letting him smells the remains of the potent scent he'd been covered in when Decker ejaculated. The horse started, pushing his hand into the stream of water and scrubbing it with soap, breathing ragged. He shouldn't think about that shit. Decker was his brother. The last bit of stickiness from the horsecum washed away, he turned the tap off, letting the final drops plink into the bowl as he dried his hands on a towel and went to his room.

I like being watched.

Ethan dropped onto his bed, suddenly not feeling much like playing games. His thoughts kept circling his brother. Decker should maybe get an OnlyFans or something if he was so keen to show off, he mused. He could probably do well. He had unusual colouring, but maybe some people would like that. Most probably wouldn't care once they saw his dick though. He could do promotions where the more people watched him, the more he'd do. Probably lots of secret voyeurs out there that would love to see a young, hung stallion going outside and wanking in his back yard or something.

A thousand viewers, nut into a flowerpot. Ten thousand, jerk off outside a window. Fifty thousand, get blown in a train bathroom in rush hour. He could record himself with his phone and put it online for people to watch, too. Even more viewers then. Even more voyeurs. Maybe he'd be into them being found by family. That was kinda like being caught. Maybe Ethan would be browsing for porn one day and come across his brother's stuff. Bet Decker would love that. Oh, Decker, I found your channel, you perv. Saw all the videos of you masturbating. Better keep doing it or I'll tell. What would he even do if he was caught, though? The idiot.

I want to be caught.

Ethan's cock twitched. He hadn't cum at all yet today. He'd been too excited about the party. He slid a hand down his pants, feeling the warm flesh, pushing a finger in between it and his sheath, circling it. He tugged it back out and sniffed, enjoying his scent. Clean, sweaty stallion sheath. He pushed his hand back down and ran it along his cock. He liked how tight it made his clothing when he got hard. It made him feel masculine. He flexed, pumping it up with blood, pulling his hand out and running it over the outside of his clothes instead, tracing the extent of the tube of flesh under it. He thought back to Barton, fucking the mare, and sighed. Fucking tiger stud. He'd be horny forever unless he did this properly.

He got up and locked his door, then opened a low drawer and shifted some clothes around to pull out a dildo. It was about the same size as himself, perhaps a little thicker. Not as thick as Decker, he now realised. Huh. Maybe Decker should live-cast himself. Then people could fuck themselves with him and send him letters telling him how he'd done. I flooded my basement, 10/10. He'd fucking love that. Horny little perv.

He quickly lubricated the toy and used the leftovers to prepare himself. A couple of fingers sliding in made him clench and grunt and whimper. Shit, he needed this now. It hadn't even been that long. He just felt so fucking horny. The only thing to decide was whether to leave it upright on the floor and slide down onto it, or lie in bed and--

There was a soft thud against his wall, and he started. Another. And again. Decker's room was on the other side of that wall. Thud. Thud. What was that? Thud. Was he shaking his bed? fuck, was he jerking off in bed? Making it knock against the wall? Thud. Ethan had never heard such a sound from his brother's room before. He would have had to move the bed closer to the wall to make it happen. And he must realise it was making the noise on his end.

Thud. Thud.

He must know he was being loud enough to be...

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Found out.

Ethan pulled his pants on, grabbed the toy, and crept to his door. He unlocked it and opened it a sliver, listening. He could hear his mother downstairs. Perfect. He slipped into the passageway and went to Decker's door. Closed, of course, but he knew it wouldn't be locked. He turned the knob and opened the door barely enough to get inside, then closed it again--and locked it this time. He turned back, knowing exactly what he would see, and ready for it.

"Caught you," he murmured huskily.

Decker lay in bed, on his back, naked as sin. He'd undone his ponytail and his mane spread out around his head like pale kelp. His cock stood up like a skyscraper from his crotch, straining. His mouth hung loose, and he panted as he stared at his brother and the large equine sex toy his sibling held. A fine sheen of sweat glistened on his body, and one hand held the middle of his cock, squeezing it to make the flesh above it darken with trapped blood. It throbbed every couple of seconds, too, and pre-cum bubbled gently out of the tip. It looked fucking delicious.

Ethan took it all in, then walked to a chair in the corner and sat down, lowering the sex toy to the ground. He placed his arms on either side and spread his legs, making his bulge comfortable. He raised one eyebrow at his brother, and they were silent for a moment. Decker had made no motion to get dressed or cover himself up. Of course not. That would defeat the purpose.

"I like to watch, too," Ethan said simply.

Decker didn't reply, but his hand started moving again, sliding up and down his hard length. His eyes stayed fixed on his brother's, making sure he was still watching. Ethan didn't break the look, but pushed one hand into his pants to fondle himself as he watched Decker masturbate. His brother really did have such a fucking nice dick. He'd also lubed himself up, either with actual lube or pre-cum, and the slick sounds as his hand moved up and down made the young stallion randier than he'd been in ages.

Ethan lifted his hips and pulled his constraining pants down, allowing his hard cock to flop up and slap against his chest. That made Decker grin at him, and he grinned back. "Mom's downstairs," he said conversationally, "and Dad might get home soon." He paused. "They might come upstairs to chat with you." A decently long pause, spent admiring the veins on his brother's cock. "They might catch us."

A shiver ran through his brother at that line, and he squirted a shot of pre-cum into the air. It fell on his naked belly with a plap. Ethan grasped his own flare, massaging the dark bulge, panting at how good it felt. "I'm gonna hide a camera in your room," he informed his brother. "Stream you jerking off. Everyone can watch." Decker whimpered, and under his pale balls, Ethan could see his brother's anus flexing. "Can charge them to watch my brother wank. All those horny strangers, watching you."

"Fuuuck..." Decker moaned. He pushed himself off the bed, getting to his feet and grabbing his cock with both hands. He turned to one side, making sure Ethan could see his whole cock and swaying balls. Ethan drank in the delicious sight, lifting his own balls with a hand and dropping them again a few times before reaching down to pick up the toy he'd brought. He shuffled his ass forward in the chair to expose his hole, and fingered its pleasant slickness, feeling it suckle needily on his finger.

"When I get a boyfriend," he explained, "I'll bring him home to fuck me. I'll be a little mare for him and tell him I like to fuck in the garden. Right outside your window." He pushed the toy's head into his ass, the pleasure of the penetration making him groan and almost break the look with his brother. He pressed it in deeper, thinking about Barton's decent tiger cock, about his brother's impressive stallion cock. "We'll fuck so hard, and you can sneak a look between the curtains and enjoy it. You perv. Or we'll fuck on my bed, and I'll moan and call his name and you can listen through the wall and touch yourself. Perv."

Decker was shaking, whinnying; if this is how he'd have been if Ethan hadn't shut him up in the wardrobe, then it was a good thing he had. "Say it, perv. Say what you are."

"I'm a pervert," his brother groaned, hands like steel rings around his dick now. "I'm a dirty horse, a dirty little perv who likes to show off, and spy, and get caught..." Decker moaned, his hands sliding up and down his pole. Pre-cum was dripping from his flare now; long, sticky lines that stretched from his tip to the floor, soaking into the carpet. "I watch people fuck and they don't even know..."

"I'll know," Ethan husked. "I'll know--but only me. And whenever I'm horny, you're gonna put on a little show for me. Just like now. My big brother the perv--and his big pretty dick. He likes to be watched because he's a pervy little show-off. Are you a show-off, Decker? Are you a little horny show-off show-pony?"

"I love showing off for you, bro," Decker moaned. "I'm a show-pony for you. Look at my dick, watch me jerk off for you..."

The room was starting to smell exactly like the wardrobe had, and Ethan loved it. The sharp scent of his brother's semen mixed with the fruity tones of the lube he'd slathered over his toy, all riding on a bed of stallion sweat and musk. It smelled like a whole team of sporty stallions had been fucking one another in Decker's room. Fuck, that was a fantasy he'd have to remember. "Fucking do it then, bro," he growled. "Lemme see you cum, show-pony. Cum right on my face..."

Decker moaned again and walked closer, hands not leaving his dick until his flare was aimed right at Ethan's face. One hand was gripping his balls now, squeezing them between his fingers as his other hand wrapped around the bottom of his flare and squashed it. Ethan had managed to hilt the toy inside himself by now, and he pushed the faux stallion cock as far inside him as it would go, every perfectly aimed thrust scraping over his prostate, making his legs feel weak and his mind spin. His cock trembled on the edge of release, and he fought to tread that perfect, agonising line between slipping back and going over.

His brother suddenly released his cock, letting his arms fall to his side and standing as if frozen, eyes now closed, body trembling. His massive, throbbing cock stood proud before him, the flare swelling, the urethra widening like a lustful eye. Ethan stared straight into it, the anticipation making him light-headed.

"Cum for me, show-pony. Let's see you cum. Cum right in my--"

"Face" is what he meant to say, but the first blast--accompanied by a cry of relief from his brother--filled his half-open mouth and drowned the word. The taste was unreal; so different from his own. The saltiness was overwhelming as he gulped it down, and the aftertaste lingered just long enough to be noticed before the next shot. Another mouth-filler, and this time his limit broke, and he felt cum surging up his cock and into the air between them before splattering back down on his thighs and asshole. He kept hammering the toy into him, letting his cum mix with the lube, and holding his mouth wide to catch as much as his brother's semen as he could.

Decker's impressive ejaculation force faltered, and he gripped his cock and squeezed out the last shots with a grimace of pleasure and pain. They landed on Ethan's chest, cock, and hole, splattering down against him like warm cake icing. His shirt was fucked, that he knew. But so was his hole, and it felt amazing. When the last waves of shimmering pleasure had faded, he let go of the toy, letting it slowly slide out by itself and fall to the floor with a lasciviously wet schlurp. His empty hole flexed as if hungry, a thin line of lube and semen dripping out of it. Ethan panted, slowly circling down from his orgasm high, and focused on the naked stallion still standing in front of him.

Decker's hands hung at his sides and sweat ran down his body. His cock hung flaccid, skin folded like a concertina, his balls once more dropped and loose. A broken trail of cum led from Ethan's body to his crotch, showing where the older horse's final expulsions had landed as their force gradually diminished. He lifted a hand to wipe back his sweaty mane and took a deep breath.

"Holy shit."

Decker stumbled over to his bed and sat down heavily as Ethan pushed himself upright and sat forward. The sweat-damp leather felt strange against his well-fucked hole. He waited for Decker to catch his eyes and smirked at him.

"You put on a hell of a show."

Decker sniffed the air. "You're a hell of an audience."

Ethan stood up slowly, groaning a little as his body complained. He pulled his pants back up and ran his fingers through the cum covering his shirt. "Whoops. Poor Mom."

"I'm sure it's in the handbook they get when they have a son. 'Don't ask questions, just wash the clothes.'"

"Hehe." They stared at one another for a moment, Ethan feeling as though he should say something. But Decker spoke first.

"Were you serious about the camera thing?" Decker asked.

"Maybe. If you like."

"I do. I mean, I would."

"Okay." Ethan nodded. "I'll get it sorted."

"And..." Decker paused. "I can help you get a boyfriend. If you like." He shrugged. "Lots of handsome guys on campus."

"...that you want to watch fuck me, you mean."

"I mean..." The stallion gave an apologetic shrug. "I'm a perv, bro. Sorry."

Ethan made a show of pulling a finger through some cum that had soaked into the folds of his sheath and licking it clean. "Not just you," he said with a grin.

Decker grinned back. "That's one dirty gene, huh?"

"Fuck yeah."

"So...see you again soon?"

Ethan hadn't wanted to ask, and he felt a wash of excitement when Decker broached the question. "You fucking bet, show-pony."

"Hot." His brother's ears twitched with embarrassment and horniness. "Maybe...I can...?"

"Yeah, you can watch me jerking off, you dirty fucking stallion."

Decker was panting already. This stuff really turned him on--and his brother's arousal made Ethan get worked up in turn. "Thanks, bro," Decker said.

"I'm gonna go shower," Ethan said. "And if I get back to my room, and the lights are off, I might simply turn on my small lamp and lie down and have a nice long jerk-off session. Thinking about some hot stallion cock I saw recently."

Decker's cock was dropping again, and his nipples were hard. "Fuck, yes," he said huskily, and Ethan smirked, unlocking the door and peering outside before heading to the bathroom, his asshole clenching pleasurably with each step.

He wasn't gonna win any awards, but his new show-pony was going to be a ton of fun to play with.