Bond of Brothers - Part 9

At 6.30am the following morning, Bruno’s alarm burst to life with an electric pop, and a static-laden Saturday morning talk show invaded the stag’s consciousness. He’d forgotten to turn off the alarm before he fell asleep. 

Bruno groaned, and slowly, very slowly, rolled towards his bedside table. A loosely clenched fist emerged from the nest of blankets, bludgeoning the offending appliance into silence before falling limply down the side of the bed. Gentle snoring resumed, although returning to a restful sleep seemed out of the question. Bruno’s head throbbed, his mouth and eyes felt gritty, his morning erection was in full force and his bladder was painfully full. It had been a long time since he’d had more than one drink in a sitting, and last night he’d given it a fair nudge at the Boys Club. 

Memories started replaying in the stag’s foggy mind, and he rolled ponderously onto his back, blinking sleepily at the ceiling. Kristian on stage. Drag queens. A unicorn. A handsy oryx. Sparkly booty shorts. Heavy club beats. The urgent grunts and shuddering sigh of release he’d heard only minutes after Kris had arrived home. Bruno’s eyes flew open, and he groaned at the onslaught of light. His hand moved down his torso, and he swore softly at the matted, dried mess he’d left in his fur in the minutes following Kristian’s arrival and obviously frantic release.

Getting from his bed to the bathroom took longer than it usually would, and by the time he made it, Bruno was gritting his teeth at the urgency of his bladder. His stubbornly erect penis bobbed and swayed, and he stepped into the shower rather than try to force it into compliance. Water, shockingly cold at first, burst from the shower head with a hiss, eliciting a gasp from the stag as it soaked through his fur to the skin beneath, wrenching him into full wakefulness with its chill. He was powerless to hold back the flow of his release, and didn’t even try. The water slowly heated up, and Bruno let out a breath as he blasted the tiled wall of the shower with piss, his stream messy and split from the fullness of his erection. 

I’m never drinking again, he thought to himself, taking his time cleaning himself up. 

He hadn’t even had that much, as he recalled. Three? Four pints of stout? For a buck of his size, he was a true lightweight. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to think of that as a bad thing. He was in his mid forties and still relatively lean, fit and strong. Even when he’d been much younger, he didn’t drink for the alcohol, but for the taste and the sociability of it. Watching his old school friends grimacing in disgust as they downed shots of jet fuel had always bemused him.

Vigorously towelling himself off, Bruno stepped back out into the hallway, still naked, and into his bedroom. He’d finally lost his erection. No way he was going to be able to crank it with a hangover. Pulling a pair of comfortable, loose grey sweatpants up his thighs, Bruno crept as quietly as he could past Kristian’s bedroom, and downstairs to the kitchen. It was only 7.30, so he wasn’t expecting to see Kris for quite a while yet. 

Aspirin, tea, yogurt and fruit to replenish his microbiome. It was going to be a slow, lazy Saturday.

*

Two more hours passed before Kristian began to ever so slowly rise to consciousness. Even so, that was early for him after a night at work, and he took a deep breath, spreading out across the bed and yawning. He could hear Bruno clattering about downstairs, obviously trying - and failing - to not make too much noise. Kris smiled sleepily to himself, yawned and stretched again, and lifted up his legs to violently kick the duvet off the bed.

As expected, his dick was staring him angrily in the face. He snorted, and groped around for last night’s towel. 

While Kris had never been particularly self-conscious about his size, or his volume, he did greatly envy guys who could leak a steady stream of precum, and cum like geysers. The internet had, of course, enabled him to look up vitamins and herbal supplements that would, in time, bump up his productivity. For ‘male fertility’ reasons, the packaging proclaimed. Fucking prudes, Kris had thought, when the pill bottles had arrived by mail.

The cocktail of supplements had only taken a couple of weeks to have a noticeable effect, and within a month, Kris was definitely ejaculating more, and harder, with more spurts and almost enough precum that he never needed lube any more. But the pills did have some side effects. 

Scrubbing at the pool of precum in his belly fur with the towel in his hand, Kris tentatively milked his cock onto it, as well. A thick drool of sticky, clear fluid oozed from his slit, and the young buck couldn’t help but gather it in his palm and smear it around his smooth, purple helmet. The sensation was like being hit with a stun gun. His entire body tensed, and his cock strained in his hand. 

Fuck...

The pills were definitely making him more sensitive, too - almost to the point of being a hair trigger.

Unable to bring himself to care in that moment, Kris hurriedly peeled apart the crunchy, cum-soaked towel and laid it on his belly. His hand twisted around his cock, and he milked out another drop of precum to smear around the taut, sensitive skin behind his glans. Then he made a slippery fist, and agonisingly slowly ground his straining cock through it. 

Three... four... five...

With a gasp, he let go. Five heavy, purposeful strokes to get to the edge. He groaned, and his penis throbbed angrily at him. Maybe the pills were a bad option... they seemed to make him far more prone to erections, too, and the last thing Kris wanted to do was end up in a situation where he was prone not only to getting hard on stage, but maybe even cumming in his shorts in public, with potentially hundreds of eyes watching.

Four... five... six... seven!

With a gasp, Kristian arched his back, and shoved his cock through his fist one final time. His other hand fell to his balls, squeezing and massaging them as he let fly a rapid-fire series of squirts that splattered audibly onto the towel, and even beyond it onto his chest and face. 

“Fuck me... only five hours since the last time!” He grunted to himself as he came down from his climax. 

A few minutes passed, and Kristian staggered from his bedroom to the bathroom - via the laundry hamper, to dispose of the sticky towel. Once he’d showered, he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, and tipped back several cups of water. He paused as he reached under the sink for his supplements. There were three in total, each from a different bottle. He frowned, and looked down. As he did, he felt pressure build at the base of his penis, and watched as within fifteen seconds, he swelled from flaccid to rock hard with no provocation whatsoever. 

He read the dosage instructions yet again, and did some mental arithmetic. 

“Three times a... a week... oh fuck me, I’ve been taking them three times a day...”

He muttered and swore to himself, and tipped the pills in his hand back into their bottles. That might explain it. By that time, his erection had subsided again. At least they weren’t the solid, persistent, needy erections that happened when his body was telling him he needed to release, at least. The boners induced by the supplements were fleeting. And he couldn’t deny that he loved how easily they came and went, and how quickly he could cum if he wanted... it reminded him of being a fawn again, when he and Dieter would compete to see who could cum the fastest.

With that in his mind, Kris returned to his bedroom, and rummaged around for something to wear. It was only he and Bruno in the house. He briefly contemplated wearing nothing at all, but then his eye fell on a very old, threadbare, faded t-shirt that had at one point been Bruno’s. It was like a tent on Kristian, even now. But it was comfortable and sort of kept him mostly decent. Not that decency was a prerequisite for breakfast in this house!

*

Bruno looked up from the newspaper as Kris came thumping down the stairs. 

“Just lettin it all hang out today, are we?” He teased. 

“Hey, we’re all guys here, right? Nothing you haven’t seen a hundred times before,” Kris retorted, walking past Bruno into the kitchen, and reaching into one of the overhead cupboards for cereal. His shirt lifted, of course, and Bruno couldn’t stop himself from staring. Kris was soft, his pink helmet nestled into the soft folds of his shaft skin, above a taut, fuzzy little coin purse. It was cute, Bruno caught himself thinking. His next thought was far less innocent, and involved what Kris was doing to it the previous night. He coughed, and tried to refocus on his newspaper.

“You alright, Dad?” Kris called, pouring milk into his cereal and carrying the bowl over to sit alongside Bruno at the breakfast bar.

“I... yeah, I just... bit of a headache from last night, y’know?”

“Ohh, yeah you had a bit to drink, didn’t you? Not your style!”

“No, definitely not. Your... style is definitely on-point this morning.”

“You think?”

“Yeah.”

There was a moment of silence, with father and son exchanging a glance, and Bruno turned back to his newspaper, turning a page and clearing his throat. Kris focused hard on his bowl of cereal, but his eye was drawn unbidden to Bruno’s crotch. It was right there, next to him, and he could actually see the outline of Bruno’s helmet through his sweats... had he deliberately dressed it like that to be visible? Surely not. Why would his dad be showing off like that?

Kris felt his ears burning, and his cock surged to erection, tenting up the hem of his t-shirt under the breakfast bar. He squirmed, and pulled the t-shirt up above it so it wouldn’t leave precum stains. As quickly as it rose, his erection fell once more - most of the way, at least. At half-mast, it paused, and bobbed upward again. Rinse and repeat. Bruno turned a page, peering through his glasses at the tiny print. Something had shifted in their relationship. There was a tension between them, a sexual tension, and Bruno could feel it as well.

Kristian’s silence, and the young buck’s glances at his crotch, were all Bruno needed to know. He folded up his newspaper and rested his cheek in his hand, elbow on the counter, looking over at his son. Kris grit his teeth, bobbing to erection yet again. 

“You... doin alright there?” Bruno ventured. 

“Y-yeah dad, no problem...”

“Sure sure, I can see that,” Bruno smirked, sipping his tea and nodding to Kristian’s lap.

Kris seemed momentarily conflicted, as though he were about to hide it, but instead Bruno stood, and walked around the other side of the kitchen island to make more tea. As he walked, he swung from side to side in his loose sweats. And he wasn't entirely soft. Kris stared as much as he dared to, imagining the gentle friction Bruno would be experiencing, and knowing that the same friction against his own glans would drive him wild at that moment. Circumcised though he was, Kristian had always been very sensitive to dry friction, even before he’d started the supplements - Bruno had taught the twins from early in their adolescence to keep themselves well moisturised, and to avoid loose, rough fabrics that would desensitise them. Both of their foreskins had been painfully tight when they were fawns, as had Bruno’s - he had hoped they might be able to resolve it non-surgically, but when the boys started coming to him in floods of tears because an erection hurt so much, he knew they’d have to speak to a doctor.

“You seem to have a fairly singular focus this morning, Kris. Is this… to do with last night, in any measure?” Bruno said, catching Kristian’s eye and lifting an eyebrow.

“What?” Kris grunted, snapping back to reality and shaking his head. 

Bruno laughed, and reached across for Kristian's mug, which he refilled and dunked a fresh teabag into. The last time he remembered Kris being so distracted was back in his ‘discovery’ phase. “Well, last night was quite...revealing. You know, if you didn't want me to know how many boners you pop while staring at my crotch, it might've been a good call to put pants on, yeah?” Bruno drawled. 

Kris opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came. 

“Don't sweat it!” Bruno continued, chuckling and coming back around to sit beside his son again. “You know I'm an old pervert, I've always enjoyed the view. I appreciate that you don't feel you need to hide stuff like that from me, even now. And your spotty little ass is adorable!”

Kristian bleated in protest, and then burst into giggles. How had this escalated so fast?! Barely a week ago his dad had thought he was the very picture of innocence. Pure as Habury snow, the saying went - a not so subtle reference to that city’s notoriously polluted winter cover.

“So… is that…” Bruno gestured to Kristian's erection, which seemed to be persisting now that it knew it was the centre of attention, “happening because of what went down last night, in any measure?”

“H-how do you mean?”

“Well, it was pretty spicy, for a vanilla show. That, and the oryx. And I definitely caught you peeking at the urinal, and then you got hard almost immediately. And by my count, that’s your fourth erection since you came downstairs this morning.”

The smirk on Bruno's face told Kristian he already knew the answer to his own line of questioning, and was only seeking to make Kris express it himself. The younger buck buried his muzzle in his tea, buying himself precious moments to try to explain… what? That he was horny for his own dad? Both his biological dad and his adoptive dad? Specifically for… no, there was no way he could admit to a watersports fetish to his dad over tea and coco pops, was there? Even in Bruno’s house, there had to be some limitations on what was openly admitted and known. Momentarily, Kris wondered what secret kinks Bruno hadn’t ever mentioned. 

His mind raced, and Bruno seemed eventually to distract himself once again with the newspaper. Such was their relationship - a discussion that was getting too heavy could easily and without excuses be paused, to be resumed whenever it seemed less laden.

“Ahh well,” Bruno said eventually, “whatever it is, I'm sure you know best and if it's something you want to talk through, that's what I'm here for. Even if it is weird and awkward and embarrassing.” He peered up, and then pointedly glanced down at Kris’ groin again, which caused him to swell again from half mast to full. Bruno openly adjusted his own crotch so that he could swell comfortably in response. “Gosh you're easy. It's a nice view, Kris. If I'm going to hell for enjoying it, so be it!”

*

Dieter was awake early that same morning. The couch at Gerald’s tiny studio apartment - the same couch that had been on Bruno’s mezzanine for all those years - was comfortable and familiar, but Dieter had never found it easy to sleep anywhere that wasn’t his own bed. Bright sunlight streamed into the loft, and as he rose, Dieter glanced over at the messy heap of blankets and antlers on the queen bed in the corner. Gerald was snoring gently, evidently laying on his front with his arms and legs splayed, his head turned in towards the wall.

Dieter and Gerald had a troubled history, to say the very least. 

While Gerald was his and Kristian’s biological father, the way in which he’d just turned up on the doorstep one day six years ago had seriously rocked the boat in any number of ways. Indeed it had been Dieter’s resentment of Gerald that had led to him working towards moving out. As he slowly woke up, Dieter reflected on that. Bruno had been supportive of all of them through those difficult years, but it couldn’t have been easy for him. 

When Dieter found out that Gerald and Kristian were far closer than was normal or appropriate, he’d lost it, and even Bruno had been shocked by the venom he’d shot at his biological father. Dieter blamed Gerald for he and Kris losing the closeness they’d shared as fawns, although Kris had been largely bemused by the whole situation, not to mention shamed by the taboo he’d committed. 

At length, Bruno had sat all of them down. Individually at first, but then all together, and had mediated their various conflicts. The result had been Gerald moving out, at first with Bruno’s help. Rent was cheap in Stillwater, thankfully, and Bruno knew Gerald’s new landlady. So they’d come to an arrangement. Gerald, in time, found work at an accounting firm, and finally made peace with the ghosts of his stage career, and buried them in his past. 

That was when their relationship began to turn around, Dieter recalled. Once he had a respectable job and stopped laying about the house all day with Kristian’s ass on his mind and his dick in his hand. That had been two, almost three years ago, and Dieter had been looking forward to getting his twin brother back - back to the way they’d been before Gerald had shown up. But that had not come to pass, not in the way Dieter had hoped. 

“You’re up early.”

Dieter jumped slightly. “Oh, morning Uncle Gerry. Yeah, sun’s too bright.”

“Want me to turn it down for you?”

Gerald’s acidic humour hadn’t changed, and Dieter gave him a sardonic smile. “Hilarious. As always. Put some pants on, would you? I don’t want to see your junk.”

Gerald snorted and obliged, pulling on a pair of jeans over his trunks, and trudged across to the tiny kitchen to begin preparing some sort of breakfast. “Older you get, the more you sound like Bruno,” he observed, clattering about in the fridge.

“Well he is my father,” Dieter replied, causing Gerald to wince.

Once he’d cooked something vaguely resembling breakfast, Gerald sat down heavily at his tiny kitchen table opposite Dieter, and fixed the younger buck with a penetrating stare. Dieter munched half-heartedly, and then caught his uncle’s eye. 

“What?”

“You’re more antagonistic towards me than usual lately, Deets. And you’re spending more time here. What’s on your mind? Anything I might be able to help with?”

Dieter frowned, and kept eating for a minute. Gerald sipped his coffee. Was he trying to be Bruno? A father figure? A source of wisdom? Dieter scoffed internally, but then calmed his thoughts. Gerald was right. He was spending more time here lately, and the barbs he shot at Gerald were more frequent than they had been.

“I... don’t know,” he replied, at length.

“Yes you do, you’re thinking it through right now. Perhaps deciding whether or not it’s something you want me to know.”

“Well… yes,” Dieter sighed, “me and Kris…”

“Kristian and I,”

“Shut up. Kristian and I are… we used to be like… two halves of the same person, you know? And these days we just aren't, any more. Kris is… well, Kris, and I'm different. I don't know how else to say it.”

“Uh huh. And you want that to be my fault, somehow, so you can externalise your confusion?”

Dieter glared at Gerald. “No,” he said, firmly, “this actually isn't about you, believe it or not. I just… Kris is so open and sexual with virtually everyone we meet, and I'm just… not. I dunno, I find it gross on a level. Hard to explain.”

Gerald considered that for a moment, chewing slowly and gazing at Dieter, which made him flatten his ears and want to sink into the floorboards.

“So what you're saying is, you and Kris are very different in the way you express yourselves. Kris is extroverted, you're introverted. Right?”

“Uhh… I guess.”

“Do you know what your sexuality is? The way Kris seems to?”

Dieter sighed heavily, uncomfortably. “See that's the problem, he just seems to know!”

“And you're not so sure.”

“Yeah.”

“Well… dumb question but who and what are you attracted to?” Gerald prompted, as if it would be the easiest bit of counselling he'd ever have to give. “Guys? Girls? Both? I mean guys obviously, with how hot you and Jack were for each other a while ago.”

Dieter snorted. “Not all guys. It's like… super specific. I was… am… into Jack. And… maybe one or two other people…”

“Kristian?” Gerald interrupted. “Hey, don’t kill me with those eyes, Deets, it's hardly a secret. You and Kris were unbelievably close as fawns, that's kinda why we're having this conversation, isn't it?”

“Yes,” Dieter replied, quietly. 

“Don't be ashamed of it. You know me and Bruno…”

“Bruno and I.”

“Touché. Bruno and I were as close as you and Kris were, you know that right?”

“I don't know about that…”

“Really? Why don't you ask him?”

“Wait, how much do you know?”

“I know that Bruno and I used to share a bed most nights. We had to be sneaky about it though, because your grandparents weren't as… supportive as Bruno is of you two.”

“So that time when Jack and Kris and I all walked in on you two… that wasn't the only time you've…?” Dieter's lips quirked into a smile. 

“Far from it, dude. Look, I know you don't like me much for how I barged into your lives and upset the balance, and that's only fair. But I'd love for you to be able to confide in me and trust me the way you do Bruno. Or the way Kris does. No pressure, but this tension we have kills me.”

Dieter stared at Gerald as though he'd just turned into a unicorn. This was absolutely not the way he'd anticipated this going!

“So what are you saying?” Dieter asked. 

“Nothing much. Only that whatever you're feeling, it's obvious you need to share it and get it off your chest. In time, I'd love for you to be able to talk to me about it. But in the mean time, it sounds like I'm not the person you need to be pouring your heart out to. Talk to Bruno.”

“I don't know why I haven't, honestly. Fuck, I don't even know what I need to talk about!”

“Knowing there's something you need to talk about is a solid start, kid. Sounds to me like you're conflicted about who and what you're attracted to and… let's be honest, I'm not the greatest role model there!”

“Can say that again…”

Gerald chuckled, and stood to walk past Dieter to the kitchen sink, squeezing the younger buck’s shoulder as he passed. 

*

Dieter left Gerald’s place later that same morning, and cycled slowly through the narrow rabbit-warren streets of the Old Quarter towards the coast. Knowing that Bruno and Kris had both been out late the night before, he wasn’t sure what he was going to find at home - would anyone even be awake? 

He opened the front door, shrugging off his jacket, and walked the few paces into the kitchen. 

“Hello?” He called.

“Deets? Deets!”

Kristian was upstairs on the mezzanine, and peering down over the railing at his brother. 

“Where’s dad?” Dieter asked as he climbed the stairs, looking around. ‘

“He went out. Grocery shopping I think. How’s Uncle Gerry?”

“I... f-fine, I guess... Kris...” Dieter’s eyes travelled down his brother’s body. He was still bottomless, wearing only the baggy t-shirt from that morning.

“Yes?” Kristian grinned, flopping back onto the sofa and letting it all hang out. He was already half hard, his cock bobbing steadily upward.

Dieter grunted, and seemed momentarily conflicted. But then he glanced down at Kristian’s groin, grinned right back at his brother, and unbuckled his belt. 

“That’s more like it. Get comfy, Deets! You’ve been kinda distant lately, I miss you!” Kris giggled, unzipping his hoodie and shrugging it off. 

Dieter kicked his way out of his clothes, and once he was as naked as his twin, he threw himself into the sofa beside him. Kristian’s arms engulfed him from the side, and Dieter pulled him close, resting his chin on Kristian’s head. Their legs were pressed tightly together, and Dieter heard his twin taking a deep breath, which he released across his chest with a soft, happy bleat. 

“You smell good,” Kris mumbled. 

“Like dad?”

“Mmhm. And like you.”

Dieter closed his eyes briefly, holding his twin brother close. 

“Something’s on your mind. What’s up?” Kris asked after a moment, pulling back slightly and straightening to look Dieter dead in the eye. Dieter was both taken aback and comforted by how easily the connection they shared came to life. Among other things. A quick glance confirmed that Kristian was fully hard, and the sight of it caused Dieter to swell steadily to erection as well. 

“You mean, besides the obvious?” Dieter grinned. 

“Hah. It’s been a while. I take it you wanna...?”

“Obviously. I’ll get the lotion,” Dieter stood, his erection bobbing stiffly in front of him. 

“Wait. You’re not gonna need it. C’mere,” Kris said. 

Dieter turned to face his twin, whose eyes were fixed on his cock, and his eyebrows went up. Kristian scooted forward, and sank down onto his knees on the floor. “Take a seat.”

Obediently, almost, Dieter sat on the sofa again, although he seemed nervous. Kristian shuffled forward on his knees, softly parting his brother’s thighs and wriggling in between them until his hands rested on Dieter’s hips. Leaning in, Kristian curled his left hand around Dieter’s cock, and cupped it against his cheek. A trail of kisses along the side of his shaft, and Kristian’s lips were poised at Dieter’s tip, his breath washing warmly over his twin brother’s glans. 

“You alright, Deets? Is this okay?”

Dieter squirmed, and looked away. “I don’t know. You’ve never done this before, not to me.”

“Sure I have!”

“Yeah but... that was different, we were twelve and it was sort of... just experimental. This is... I dunno, it’s a bit...”

Kris sighed, and clambered back up onto the sofa beside Dieter. “There is something on your mind, isn’t there? Something big.”

Dieter nodded. 

“Do you still want to do anything?”

“Can we just...”

“Jerk off together?”

Dieter nodded again. 

“Anything for you, Deets. Stay here though, you’re still not going to need lotion.”

Kristian, who by that stage was almost painfully hard, gripped his taut penis in his right hand and squeezed it firmly. Milking upward, a thick, heavy drool of precum oozed over his fingers, and he grinned. 

“Holy shit,” Dieter muttered. His hand found his own cock, itself completely dry. He gripped himself, and pulled firmly backward on his shaft skin, pulling it tight and flexing through his grip. “How...?”

“Special supplements,” Kristian smirked, pulling his hand away. His fingers were thickly webbed with strands of precum, and his cock glistened with it. “C’mere, kneel across my lap. There’s more than enough to share. If you want to.”

Dieter obliged, resting his hands on Kristian’s shoulders as he moved over his twin, who gazed up at him with a happy, horny grunt. Kristian’s dry hand found Dieter’s butt, and pulled his twin in closer to him until their stiff cocks bumped and slid together, eliciting a shaky little groan from Kristian. His other hand curled once again around Dieter’s shaft, smearing his copious, slippery precum around his glans and inner skin, a slow, firm corkscrew that made Dieter gasp. 

“Holy fuck... What supplements?”

“Oh just herbal stuff and vitamins. Nothing weird or dangerous, don’t worry,” Kris reassured him, beginning a steady, slow rhythm. 

Kristian’s cock was aching with arousal, a steady drool of precum matting his fur as he stroked his brother over him. His other hand moved from Dieter’s butt to his chest, raking through his fur until he found a nipple, which he circled, tweaked and brushed in just the way he knew Dieter liked. Dieter shuddered, thrusting his hips gently forward through Kristian’s slippery hand, and Kris moaned heatedly, squirming. Dieter reached for Kristian’s cock in return, and his fingers found his brother’s shaft completely coated in his own precum. He stroked it wetly, struggling for a rhythm. 

“Nnnh... careful, Deets... the supps make me a lot... unhh... easier,” Kris murmured. 

Dieter snorted. “Nah, you were always quick,” he teased. 

Wiping his hand off on Kristian’s chest, he returned it, slightly drier, to his brother’s drooling cock. Finding it a little easier, he moved his hand in a slow, deliberate twist, up and down Kristian’s tight, stiff length, delighting in his twin brother’s twitches and gasps of pleasure. Dieter’s cock, by that stage, was starting to dry out a little, so Kris brought his hand up to his muzzle and licked his palm before continuing, bringing his second hand down. With his left thumb on top of Dieter’s base, he cupped his brother’s balls, holding him tightly while his right hand focused heavily on Dieter’s helmet, stroking him with quick, twisting motions, slick with precum and saliva. 

He was determined to make Dieter cum first. It had been so long since he’d brought his brother to climax - some months, all told. They did play together quite often, but usually it consisted of them jerking off together.

Dieter wasn’t very communicative though. Kristian had to judge how well he was doing by the pace of his brother’s breathing and the little grunts and shudders he gave. 

“Nnnh fuck, Deets,” Kris moaned. “C-careful!”

Dieter grinned broadly. Kris was a mess already. Seeing how easily he could still get his brother off was hugely arousing for Dieter, and although he was getting close himself, he redoubled his efforts on Kris. His hand picked up pace just a tiny bit, and his grip loosened - just the way Kris liked it, he knew. His hand was slick, very slick, and the bump and slide of his loose grip up and down over the ridge of Kristian’s glans did as much for him as it seemed to do for Kris.

“Ohh? Careful? Was I squeezing it too tight?” Dieter teased. 

“Ahhn! N-no, you fucker, you know... ohh! You know exactly.. ah!”

Dieter chuckled, and ground heavily through Kristian’s hand, rolling his hips back and forth as Kristian lost his rhythm. The fuse was lit, Dieter knew, and he slowed his pace, focusing on Kristian’s shaft just as he felt his brother’s cock begin to flutter and pulse. His hand milked firmly up against the back of Kristian’s glans, and he gazed down between their bodies just as Kris climaxed. A long, slow, lazy river of cum flowed over Dieter’s fingers for a second, and he perked his ears - did the supplements increase his cum volume too?

His question was answered emphatically. 

Kristian exploded audibly. His first, heavy jet of cum hissed forth, splitting in the air and splattering both of their faces. Likewise the second, third and fourth. Dieter was so taken aback that he stopped stroking, and Kristian urgently humped upward through his brother’s hand to ride out his climax, spurt after messy spurt spritzing through his fist to cover himself in his lust. 

Kristian was barely starting to ease back when Dieter came back to his senses, and the sheer hotness of what had just happened spurred him on. 

“Holy fuck, Kris!” He grunted, humping urgently through his brother’s loose grip, before finally knocking Kristian’s limp hand aside and taking hold of himself, using Kristian’s cum and precum as lube to finish himself off. 

Just the same as his twin, Dieter focused heavily on his glans during the lead up, and then for the last half dozen strokes, he pulled his hand back, tugging his tight shaft skin against the back of his helmet to push himself over. Kristian watched in a daze, eyes fixed on his twin brother’s cock as he unleashed a far less impressive, but no less passionate climax, adding half a dozen milky streaks to Kristian’s matted chest.

“Nnnh... wow...” Kris murmured, breaking into soft giggles. “I haven’t cum that hard in a while.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone cum that much, Kris,” Dieter panted. 

“Me neither!”

Both twins bleated in shock, and Dieter fell on top of his brother, spinning around. There was Bruno, standing at the top of the stairs, a wide grin on his muzzle and a towel in his hand. 

“DAD!” Kristian bleated.

“What? I arrived at a critical moment, I couldn’t have interrupted you then,” Bruno shrugged, tossing the towel at Kristian. “Hey Deets!”

“Um... hi, dad,” Dieter mumbled. “How long were you...?”

“Oh, not long,” Bruno replied. “Only just long enough to witness Ol’ Faithful here erupting for the second time today. Kris, you know you’re only meant to take those supplements three times a week, right?”

The twins made eye contact, and burst into laughter.

*

“Kris? Kristian... Hey. Hey. You good?”

Sammael waved a hand in front of Kristian’s face, which caused him to jump and return to reality with a start. 

“Sweetie, you’re a space cadet tonight! What’s going on?” Avery chimed in, as he pulled his sparkly shorts up his thighs and released the elastic waistband to snap against his slender body.

Kris glanced back and forth between the effeminate rabbit and the stag, and gave a thin-lipped smile. “Oh nothing, guys, don’t worry. Dad caught me at a slightly awkward moment yesterday, that’s all.”

“Oh,” Avery covered his giggle with a hand, turning side-on to the mirror and plucking at the leg seams of his shorts to make them cling in just the right way.

“Ooh. Right at the point of no return?” Sammael laughed.

“You... could say that, yes. Nothing he hasn’t seen before, but it never gets any less weird to open your eyes after a really good cum and there’s your dad lookin dead at you!”

Nothing further had been said since Bruno had caught Dieter and Kristian on the couch together - nothing was needed. Bruno treated it as a non-event, as he always had. Pointedly, though, Kris had not mentioned to Avery and Sam that his twin brother had been on top of him at the time. Part of him wanted to dive into the juicy details to gauge their reaction, but he was still the new kid at the Boys Club, and didn’t want to create the wrong sort of reputation for himself. The three dancers finished dressing, and with the growing comfort of routine, the MC’s announcements heralded their entrance to the stage. 

New moves, new lines, and another new outfit for Augustine, and the crowd in the Boys Club lapped it up. Kristian was focusing hard on his routine - after his early success as a lead dancer, he’d been silently promoted to the role, sharing it with Sammael. But as he pirouetted, his eye caught sight of a very familiar pair of antlers at the very back of the club, sitting in one of the booths. He almost lost his cue, and groaned inwardly. He was going to have to speak to his dad about rocking up unannounced, wasn’t he?

Augustine erupted forth onto the stage in a cloud of confetti, snatching the mic from Kristian’s outstretched hand and beginning his routine, lip-syncing a range of popular hits. With attention on Aug, Kris caught Sammael’s eye across the stage, and nodded towards the crowd. It took Sammael a moment to take the hint, but as soon as he noticed Bruno, he grinned across at Kris. 

Augustine’s song concluded with the unicorn bathed in the harsh glow of a floodlight, his outfit glittering, and in the darkness, the six support dancers exited. The star still had a final song to perform, which he would do solo. 

“Dude!” Sam caught Kristian’s elbow as the dancers exited, his face split by a wide grin. 

“You saw him?”

“Duh. Seems he likes what he sees,” Sam giggled, shaking his hips and flagging his tail. 

“Ugh, just ignore him, sweetie,” Avery lisped, sliding a slender arm around Kristian’s waist and pulling him away from Sam as the group entered the dressing room. “Just because he’s got daddy issues don’t mean you gotta entertain the notion of your daddy being an issue!”

Sammael bleated in protest, and flopped down heavily in a chair, legs akimbo. He groped around for a bottle of water, and emptied it down his throat. Avery did likewise, although more delicately. The stage lights were incredibly hot, and all of the dancers were sweaty and dehydrated. 

“You’d better go see him,” Avery prompted, raising an eyebrow at Kristian. 

“I’m coming!” Sam erupted. 

“No you’re not! Keep your dick in your shorts, you thirsty fuck!” Avery snapped, shoving Sam back into his chair as the stag made to stand up.

Kristian laughed. “Oh come on, both of you come with me. Dad likes you both, he said as much to me last week.”

Avery tilted his head, one of his long ears pricking up, and then the other. “Wait, really?”

“Oh damn, gonna get me some stag-daddy,” Sam teased, leaping to his hooves and darting away from Avery’s grip on his way to the dressing room door. “Ugh, don’t look at me like that, I’m kidding, Kris!”

Kristian rolled his eyes, and the three of them together tumbled out into the club, just as Aug’s final song was concluding. The club erupted into applause, and the three dancers threaded their way through the crowd towards where they knew Bruno would be. 

Bruno was sitting at a booth on his own, a half-empty beer in front of him. He grinned broadly, and shuffled along the padded couch to make room for the three dancers, one beside him and two opposite. Sammael elbowed Avery in the ribs and rushed forward to slide up alongside Bruno, fluttering his eyelashes and getting a raised eyebrow from the older stag for his trouble. 

“Heya dad,” Kris said, sliding along to sit opposite Bruno, with Avery sliding in alongside him. “Wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight!”

“I just couldn’t get enough of those sparkly shorts,” Bruno chuckled. 

“Oh sure, just the shorts. Nothin about watching your very own little hunk strutting his stuff under lights?” Sammael replied, casting seductive eyes across at Kris, whose ears flattened in response. 

The four of them - three stags and a bunny - stayed together chatting and rolling their eyes at Sam’s shameless flirting - until the music stopped once again, and the MC came over the mic to announce the start of the evening’s ‘spicier’ entertainment. 

Kris almost turned inside out. Bruno wasn’t intending to stay for that, was he?! 

“Dad? Don’t you have to go get some sleep? Early start tomorrow?” Kris prompted. He winced, and glared at Sammael as a hoof made contact with his shin under the table. 

“Eh? No, I thought I’d stay - I’ve heard interesting things about the Heat shows,” Bruno replied, staring right into Kristian’s face. 

Avery snorted into his water cup. 

The lights dimmed, and a dirty, heavy beat started. Bruno grinned at Kristian’s obvious discomfort, and gently slapped Sammael’s hand as it snaked over his thigh. 

“I’ll get more drinks. Kris?” Avery murmured, standing up. 

“Hmm? Just water, thanks Av.”

“Same for me, Avery,” Bruno echoed. Sammael looked disappointed, but nodded his acquiescence.

Kristian was deliberately sitting with his back to the stage, partly to glare at Sammael and partly to avoid watching the show - he was hard anyway, from having Avery’s thigh against his own and the delicate scent of the rabbit’s fur in his nose. The last thing he needed was to see whomever was on stage grinding and humping with a partner in front of a hundred thirsty patrons. 

Bruno had no such compunctions, and his eyes were fixed on the stage, a little smirk on his muzzle as he watched with calm detachment. 

“Sam, if you get any closer we’ll merge and become one animal,” he said abruptly, causing Sammael to flutter innocently and pretend to be affronted. 

“Me? You sure it isn’t you pressing up on me here, daddy?”

Kristian snorted, and rolled his eyes at Sam. Avery returned with two jugs of water on a tray, and four glasses tucked under his arm, displaying himself as a very capable waiter as well as a dancer. He slid right up against Kristian again as he sat, and Kris felt himself stiffen in his shorts. The bunny was adorable. He leaned back against the bench, and adjusted the crotch of his shorts slightly. A little thrill of excitement ran through him as Avery looked down into his lap, and then up at his face. 

“Who’s that for? The show’s behind us!” The bunny giggled. 

“You,” Kris replied, staring at Avery. 

The rabbit blushed, and poured another glass of water. His elbow brushed quite deliberately against the tent in Kristian’s shorts, and the stag felt his pulse quicken. Avery’s forearm brushed against it and along it, his hand coming to rest on Kristian’s inner thigh, and a glance downward confirmed a little peak forming in Avery’s shorts, as well. Kris had never seen Avery’s, the bunny boy was quite reserved and shy in his way, and always got changed with his back to everyone in the dressing room. His curiosity piqued, Kris dropped his hand beneath the table, and traced his fingertips up Avery’s thigh. The bunny didn’t pull away, and his legs parted slightly as Kristian’s hand reached his crotch. Avery was small, Kris could feel that, maybe four inches or so and slender. It felt adorable, and his fingers fondled it affectionately. 

“You two alright there?” 

Bruno’s voice broke through the cloud of sudden arousal that had surrounded Kris and Avery, and the rabbit squeaked, pulling his hand away from Kristian and batting the stag’s out of his crotch. Sam was gazing directly at Avery, a broad grin on his muzzle at the bunny’s discomfort.

Bruno drained his glass for the third time as the Heat show drew to a close, and prodded Sammael. 

“Shift your ass, I need a piss,” he rumbled. 

Sam grunted, but stood up, and Bruno moved past him. 

“Hang on Dad, me too,” Kris called, clambering out over Avery to follow. 

Avery and Sam exchanged a glance, and watched the two Hirschkoff stags melt into the crowd, Kristian trotting along with his hands over his groin. 

“Did you make him hard?” Sam asked. 

“I didn’t exactly have to try,” Avery replied, with a smirk.

“Poor kid’s so pent up. He nearly came at the urinal with me last week. Nice dick on him, I can only imagine what daddy stag’s is like...”

“And I’m sure you were the picture of innocence,” Avery retorted.

“Me? Oh hell no. I actually did cum at the urinal with him!” Sammael grinned.

“You’re such a slut!”

“You love me, cottontail.”

*

“That was... quite something,” Bruno murmured to Kristian as the two of them stood in a queue for the bathroom. 

Kris, who’d softened by that point and was beginning to dance from hoof to hoof, took a moment to reply. He was staring a little anxiously at the number of people queueing up to use the bathrooms before them - as expansive as the facilities were at the Boys Club, at the conclusion of the Heat show not everyone was going there for the “proper” reasons, and the queue moved slowly. 

“H-how do you mean?” Kris eventually asked. 

“The Heat show! I looked it up a few days ago, but it didn’t mention how... metaphorical it was. The way it shifts from spotlight to silhouette when things get really spicy is a nice touch. Pretty sure I saw more than one person in the crowd jerking off over... are you alright?”

Kris groaned, hunched over, and held himself tightly in his hand. “Hah... y-yup. Bit urgent. I’m good.”

“More than a bit, by the look of it. How much water did you drink?”

“No idea. Too much, obviously!”

The queue shuffled forward. Several of the people in front of Bruno and Kris were making out, grinding and groping and obviously not in the queue for relief. Bruno growled, and grabbed Kristian by his collar. Bruno was like a tank in a crowd. Almost no one could stand in his way. Kristian bleated as he was dragged along, all the way through the queue and almost to the front. 

The long, steel trough urinal was packed. Shoulder to shoulder all along, and there in the middle, drenched in what was probably piss, was the handsy oryx from their last trip to the club. Bruno growled, and the moment two people cleared a spot near the far end of the urinal, he was there, propelling Kristian up before him, and elbowing his way in alongside with a half-hearted, muttered apology to the young donkey he knocked aside. 

Kris was so desperate he could barely contain it. His bladder ached, and if he held onto his cock any tighter he was sure he’d snap it off. His breathing was shallow, and his legs trembled as he stepped awkwardly up to the trough and finally, urgently shoved his sparkly shorts out of the way. They fell to his ankles, into a puddle of everyone else’s piss, but in the moment he couldn’t even find it in himself to care. Standing there bare-assed at the urinal in a crowd of fifty people, most of them some kind of horny after the Heat show, Kris was always going to attract some attention. The hulking mountain of Bruno standing shoulder to shoulder with him hardly helped. A lot of eyes and more than a few hands made their way to Kristian’s ass, and he bleated over his shoulder in protest as the urgency in his bladder finally overwhelmed his ability to hold it back. He released, finally, and tilted his head back, eyes fluttering closed in relief as he erupted with the force of a stallion against the urinal trough. 

“Hey hey, point it down, wouldya? Getting all your splash back here!” Bruno laughed, reaching across to gently prod Kristian’s penis aside to aim it away from himself. 

Kris gasped, his eyes flying open, and felt his cheeks and ears burning hot - Bruno had touched his cock? Between that, and the feeling of so many strangers brushing past him, staring at his bare ass, and the sight of Bruno right beside him, Kris didn’t have a hope of staying soft. 

Bruno wasn’t holding himself at all, and his cock and balls hung completely free of his jeans as his powerful stream battered the trough. If anything he seemed to be showing off, and not only for Kris’ benefit. On his left, out of nowhere, Sammael had appeared, and was staring with undisguised lust at both Bruno and Kris. Kristian felt blood flowing into his shaft, filling it out even as his strong, heavy stream continued - rapidly enough that he was forced to hold himself down. He was rock hard in moments, his stream faltering and splitting messily, and Bruno chuckled. 

Sammael was breathing heavily on Bruno’s left. Bruno glanced across, and down. 

“Fuck, you too? What is it with you guys?” Bruno laughed, his eyebrow raising at the sight of Sammael unloading his bladder from a cock almost as erect as his son’s. 

“Nnnh, it’s just you, daddy, you’re so freakin’ hot,” Sam giggled. 

It took all of Bruno’s resolve not to snap a reply at him, and instead he returned his focus to his own stream, which was beginning to weaken. Sammael cut himself off mid-stream with some effort, and waddled around Bruno to shove himself in between he and Kristian, rolling back his foreskin and resuming. 

“Uh huh. THIS is where I wanna be,” Sam giggled, resting a hand on each of Bruno and Kris’ shoulders, and swaying his hips gently between them. His cock swayed, half-erect, and his stream swung wildly side to side, crossing with both Bruno and Kristian’s. Bruno growled, and the moment Sammael was done pissing, he shoved the stag backward off the urinal grate, and closed the gap between himself and Kristian, to Sam’s chagrin. 

Bruno, as his stream weakened, clenched a few times to release the remainder in powerful squirts, and then shook out the last drops, his eye once more falling across to Kris, who was achingly stiff by that stage, pointing almost straight up, his glans swollen and shiny in the dim light, dewdrops of urine falling steadily from his underside.

“Kris, I’m starting to get the feeling you’re... how do you say... into this,” Bruno said, pointedly staring at Kristian, who met his gaze only after a moment, wrenching his eyes upward away from his dick. Bruno wasn’t entirely soft either, his heavy shaft bobbing steadily, half-erect. “Do you always get hard when you piss?”

Kristian pushed, forcing his bladder to empty with a messy spray upward, and then looked down at where his shorts were crumpled in a messy, sodden ball around his hooves. This was it. He was nowhere near drunk enough to be able to take this. He was naked, rock hard, at an extremely public urinal at his workplace, with his dad making knowing comments to him about his ‘secret’ fetish... His ears pinned to his skull, he gazed over at Bruno. 

“I...” he swallowed heavily, throbbing, precum oozing thickly down the side of his shaft, “I’m... very into this...”

Bruno’s cock jumped at that, swelling upward steadily until it was almost as erect as Kristian’s. Sammael was still there, standing on Bruno’s left and looking like he’d be on his knees between them given half a chance. His own uncut shaft was in his hand, and he was slowly rolling his foreskin back and forth. 

“Hmmm. Good to know. So is that exhibitionism, or watersports? Or a combination of the two? Cos either way, those shorts are ruined,” Bruno chuckled. He stuffed his erect shaft back into his jeans, and zipped up. “Hey Sam, let go of yourself for a moment would you? Go find something for Kris to cover up with.”

Sammael bleated at being ordered about, but the look in Bruno’s eye sent him packing. 

“D-dad, it’s fine, honestly, I’ll just cover with my hands and run to the dressing room...”

“Nonsense. There’s a hundred people between here and there, and you’re too hung for people not to notice!”

“I... Dad, have you seen how many other guys are hard, here? It’s pretty much the norm!”

Bruno glanced around. The ratio of soft to hard dicks that he could see was, indeed, about even. “Hmm. True. But you’re my kid and the thought of that many people copping a feel gives me the willies.”

Bruno nudged Kristian back off the urinal and against the bathroom wall, and moved to cover him, leaning on the wall over his shoulder. Kris gazed up at his father, and his pulse quickened still further. This was such a bizarre situation to be in, suddenly, and the part he was the most surprised by was how weirded out he wasn’t. He was stiff as a board, his cock staring right up between them. Bruno was still hard in his jeans, and their bodies were inches apart in a dirty club bathroom. Right beside them, a few feet away, someone was getting a messy blowjob. The piss-fetish oryx was still doing the rounds, and more than one person had recognised Kris from the stage show and were hanging around, casting sidelong glances at the much larger, older stag looming over him. None of them knew Bruno was his dad. And Kris, glancing around briefly, could only assume people were hanging around waiting for something to happen. Precum dripped onto the floor between his hooves, and Bruno chuckled throatily. Kris was suddenly very aware of how intently Bruno was staring at his cock. 

“You ought to ease up on those supplements, Kris,” Bruno murmured.

“I know... I’ve stopped taking them.”

“Are they the reason you get hard so easily?”

Kris nodded. “Yeah. But the exhibitionism thing, and the piss thing... that... doesn’t help.”

“S’all good kid, we’ve all got something we’re into,” Bruno grinned, stressing his point just as Sammael came prancing back in with Kristian’s underwear and jeans in his hands. 

“Thanks, Sam,” Kris said, stepping into his underwear. 

Bruno and Kristian left the club together a few minutes later, as the club was beginning to wind up for the evening. Their walk home together was mostly conducted in silence, with Kris walking alongside Bruno with his eyes on the pavement, and his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. 

Bruno unlocked the front door when they arrived home, and propelled Kris inside ahead of him into the darkened house. Kristian turned to face Bruno, and took a deep breath. He seemed about to say something, but couldn’t find the words. 

Bruno just stepped forward, and embraced his son in the darkness, hugging him tightly. “Thanks for tonight,” he rumbled, planting a kiss on Kristian’s cheek. 

Kris tensed momentarily, but quickly melted into the hug, sliding his arms around Bruno’s waist and subtly breathing in the older buck’s scent. He was rock hard again in moments, and Bruno was hugging him too tightly for him to pull back enough that it wouldn’t be obvious. Bruno chuckled throatily. 

“Alright, alright. Go crank one out, kiddo. I’ll be... ahh...”

“Crankin one out as well, in the next room?” Kristian said, pulling back to gaze into Bruno’s eyes with a raised eyebrow. 

Bruno paused, and a slow grin spread across his muzzle. He nodded. 

There was a long silence between them. Kristian could feel that Bruno was far from flaccid. In his head all he could picture was Bruno leaning on the wall over him, staring at him hungrily. The thought of his dad’s hands all over him, the ultimate taboo, was making him drool in his jeans. But actually suggesting that they bring that fantasy to life...? It was a conflicted moment for Kris. 

As it happened, he didn’t need to. Bruno pulled back from the hug, and without turning on a light, guided Kristian to the stairs with a hand on his shoulder. They didn’t go to the bedroom. Instead, Bruno paused on the mezzanine. The only light was the dim glow of the moon coming in through the back window of the house, over the ocean. The two stags, father and son, undressed in silence. Bruno could just barely make out the sculpted, lean musculature of his son in the dim light, the glint of his eyes, and the bob and bounce of his painfully hard cock. He was just as erect, and Kristian’s breath left his lungs in a soft, urgent bleat when his father’s jeans hit the floor. Kristian fell into Bruno’s arms once again, and a heavy, needy moan rose in his throat, muffled in Bruno’s neck fur, as their cocks met. Two spires of rigid, heated flesh bumped and ground together, Kristian’s precum pulsing forth to slicken the friction between them. 

Bruno’s hands made their way to Kristian’s hips, and their muzzles brushed alongside each other. Eyes closed in the silent darkness, the intimacy of their embrace seemed to lose all of its taboo, and Kristian could feel the steady, strong pulse of Bruno’s heartbeat both through his chest and his cock, even as his own fluttered and raced with sheer, unbridled arousal the likes of which he couldn’t remember ever feeling... not since... that week with Gerald, right here on this very mezzanine...

Kristian’s mouth was dry, his ears burned, and his hand slid between their bodies, slender fingers seeking his father’s spire and curling around it. Bruno was thick. Very thick. Kris had seen it before, of course, but never had he touched it. Never had he been so close to it. Bruno’s skin was dry, his glans slightly rough and keratinised, but the underside of his shaft was slick and slimy with Kristian’s precum. Bruno’s hands slid around Kristian’s hips, each of his huge, calloused palms gripping a buttock and kneading firmly. Kris exhaled hotly over his father’s cheek, and Bruno pulled back, whiskers catching against his son’s until their lips brushed delicately past each other. 

Kristian squeezed his father’s penis, and was rewarded by a gentle grunt, and a slow, firm grind into his grip that threatened to push him backwards with its force. He staggered, but Bruno’s hands on his butt kept him upright, and pulled their bodies tighter together. One of Bruno’s hands trailed up Kristian’s spine, making him shiver, and then over his shoulder, and down his chest. Their lips were barely an inch apart in the darkness, their breath shared, and Kris’ hand squeezed and milked upward on Bruno’s cock, eliciting a throb and another slow, heavy grind out of him. His own was drooling onto the floor, he could feel the cool air chilling the precum than ran down the underside of his shaft, its flow nearly continuous. 

And then Bruno’s hand confidently surrounded it. That warm, gentle hand, its skin rough and leathery, almost completely engulfed Kristian’s length. Bruno rumbled softly, and Kristian gasped, his entire body tensing. 

He pushed forward into his father’s hand, and was powerless to stop what came next. His balls tightened, his abdomen clenched, and he fell against his father heavily, held up only bu Bruno’s enormous frame and his strong hands. His hips quivered and bucked, heat exploding through his loins and erupting in rhythmic, heavy convulsions as he ejaculated all over Bruno’s groin, thighs and belly, his spurts powerful and watery, shot after shot splattering his father’s fur. 

Bruno actually groaned in arousal. His hand tenderly massaged Kristian’s penis through his orgasm, milking it slowly and sliding his son’s slippery glans against his own. He released it gently only a minute or so after Kris’ orgasm slowed, and only then to slide his arm around his son again, holding him close to his chest. No words were exchanged between them, still. 

Kristian seemed to be pulling away, and Bruno resisted for a moment, wanting nothing more than to enjoy this afterglow, even if he was still painfully erect himself. But Kris insisted, and it was a long moment before Bruno realised why. 

Slowly, very slowly, Kristian sank to his knees in front of his father, hands sliding down his thighs, until Bruno could feel shaky, heated breaths against the swollen helmet of his cock. 

“I’ve never seen you cum,” Kristian said, after a long pause. His voice was quiet and husky, and no response was needed. 

And Bruno’s world changed.

*