Falling in Love with My Brother

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Equine Desire

I knew it was wrong to want him, but I still did. I still yearned for that silky softness of his skin, the hardness of his muscles beneath his golden palomino coat. We were both stallions, my brother and I, though our mother was a deer. I got small antlers from that part of the deal, showing a touch of cervine heritage, though I didn't like to show them. My coat was a little thicker too, more like fur than horsehair, and Kenny knew that I was shy about the white spots on my rump, only a smattering of them.

It had been a long time since my brother had seen them, not since we had been nothing more than innocent foals who were far, far from wise to the ways of the world. But things had changed in my late teens, when I'd become an adult.

I moved away from my younger brother when I headed off to university, studying up in Scotland while he finished up college staying in the house that we'd grown up in. It was not a bad set-up, not at all, though I would always be "Big Zack" to him. I'd hated that name, but there was a part of me, after visiting at Christmas after what had felt like my first real experience away from home, that didn't mind it so much anymore.

"Oh, hey, bro, didn't see you there."

My brother, Kenny with his shirt off, in his old bedroom. He'd filled out though in his second year of college. We'd both taken a gap year each after school, meaning we were ever so slightly behind, but Kenny did not look at all behind with his muscles laid down in all the right places.

"Whoa..." I tried to play it cool. "Dude, have you been working out?"

Such a joke, a silly joke, but it was still one that I felt that I had to make, grinning, leaning on the door frame. I was careful to not let my antlers rattle on the frame though, always cautious around my brother. Not for any particular reason, not before but I felt so self-conscious before him, all of a sudden, that my skin crawled.

That was the start of it, the start of more, sneaking looks out of the corners of my eyes at dinner, when we were out grabbing the shopping, doing chores for mom. She was none the wiser to it and I hoped that Kenny didn't see it too, much less the thicker bulge in my jeans than usual.

It was embarrassing. He was my brother. How the hell could I possibly be attracted to him? Yet he looked like a different stallion when I came back from university, having grown, having found new friends, having found a bit of a direction in life. He said that he was going into personal training and fitness, that there was a market for it if someone could sell themselves well enough. Kenny wanted to be able to back up his words too though, to be able to sell something genuinely, so that he didn't have to worry, not ever, about what he was peddling.

"I don't want to be like those that are just printing diet plans off the internet," he said earnestly, gesturing as he talked. "I want to be legit. I don't want to do anything half-arsed. There's enough doing that... If I do this, I can actually help furs, you know?"

I would have said anything to get him to keep talking, the coarse honey tones of his voice dripping over me. All I wanted was to hear his voice, crossing one leg over the other at an angle on the sofa so that my arousal would not be so obvious even to me. To others, of course, all I wanted was for it to be hidden.

I told myself it was just a crush, something that I would get over. That it was perfectly normal, natural, even, something that would go away in time. I'd had crushes on guys before that didn't have a thing for me and guys too that I didn't even think I'd ever get with, even if I knew I was gay. That was alright, that was certain: I was okay with that. What I wasn't okay with were those secret times in the shower where I planted my palm on the wall and snorted like a stud driven by lust alone, my paw jerking off my cock with wild, raw abandon.

Water streamed down my brown coat, my bay colouration showing through even more strongly, even the tiny white spots on my rump. No one but Kenny knew they were there, but there was still some sickly twisted part of me that wanted him to be groping my arse, sweeping his paws over those white spots, telling me how hot I looked, how fuckable I was.

Yeah... I was one hell of a sub. My cock throbbed into my paw, night after night, during that Christmas break, the flare swelling up thick and full with my need. I painted the shower walls time after time with my cream and yet it still was not enough. It could never be enough.

"Bro?"

He pounded on the bathroom door and I could just imagine Kenny leaning into it, cupping his paw around his ear, trying to work out what the hell was taking me so long. To be fair, he was pretty well-known in his family for taking ridiculously long showers, so it was not all that out of the ordinary for him. Jacking off multiple times in the shower every evening and sometimes even a morning shower too... Well, that was unusual.

"Yeah, I'm..." He grunted. "Finishing up."

That technically wasn't a lie. He didn't like lying to his brother, he wasn't that sort of stallion. He didn't like lying, not when he could be honest, but he didn't know what else to say, what else would at all be acceptable. His cock throbbed into his paw, his hoof-like fingertips curled around it, what equine anthros had instead of nails, his head lowered, nostrils quivering, lips twitching. All the tiny little muscles in his body under the cool spray of water had become electrified, twitching and flickering, his body outside his own control. Yet that seemed to be the case when he was around his brother.

Maybe it would be better after he went back to university? He snorted heavily. With his brother being in the second year of college, an adult after having skipped a year, it wouldn't be long before he was catching up to him. Maybe he should discourage him from going to the same university, even though he'd said that had been what he'd wanted too...

Fuck. I was really gone, head over fucking heels. And how the hell was I supposed to recover from that?

I snorted, perched on the edge of the bed, though I didn't have anything much of a recollection as to how I'd gotten there, quivering. My hooves ached and my fingers itched as if there was something there that my body though that it needed to be doing, that there was something brewing, swirling and simmering under the surface. A towel was loosely tied around my waist, getting the bed wet, but I couldn't find the energy in myself to worry about that. It was only me that would be sleeping there anyway.

I just had to hold out, I had to tell myself, over and over again, even as my cock twitched and throbbed, swelling once more to tent out the front of my fluffy, white towel. My length ached, even my antlers feeling as if it was the wrong time of year, the time where they should have been going through a shed, yet my heart leapt and pounded so violently that I couldn't find it in myself to do anything about it.

I checked the time. I'd been sitting there for so long that Kenny had probably been finished in the shower too for ages anyway, off in his own room. Our parents were still in the same house, but they tended to give their adult stallions a good bit of room and breathing space, which was something that Kenny and I were both grateful for.

No one would disturb me, as long as I was quiet. I checked the door, nudging it into the frame, checking the handle, only the bedside table lamp on. An old rugby poster was left up on the wall from my days in school, but I didn't follow that much anymore, even if the rugby players themselves did so make my heart pound. I loved their muscles, how thickly built they were, the raw power in their bodies... Oh fuck...

It made me get harder and I tried to keep the image in mind of a big, studly stallion - maybe a horny fuck with a nice, black coat, a thin yet broken stripe slashed down his face. Yeah, that was different to Kenny, very much so, in the best of ways, with dinner plate sized hooves and a mane and tail that cascaded roughly over his chiselled muscle.

In my mind, I was down on my knees with his dick in my mouth, suckling on him, my lips folding around the meaty flare at the tip of his cock, tenderly taking care of him. It was the best place for me to be, down there on my knees, though my paw, in reality, closed around the midriff of my cock, pumping and teasing slowly, though there was a little part of me that was still pleased that my fingers would not meet around my girth. Not too big, not too small: just right. I needed to be like that, wanting a wide array of partners, all safe, all so that I could experience all that life had to offer. Especially when I was away at university.

My paw worked my cock slowly as the stud in my mind's eye snorted and stomped, bearing me back against the metal lockers with a rough jab of his hips. It was so crude, so fucking dirty, the feel of his meat inside my imagined muzzle intoxicating in the best of ways. The slam of the lockers holding me in position locked into my mind, pulling in other sensations, like how hard the locker room floor was under my knees. Even while I sat there on the bed, they ached like I was really doing it. Maybe I did have an overactive imagination, but there was little I wanted more than to be pounded like a slutty colt, slurping and drooling over a cock that, by far, outclassed mine.

End preview.

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