Bro to Hoe - Part 25 (Patreon)

Everyone in this story is 18+

-------------The House POV------------

Simon locked the bedroom door even though the house was empty. He sat on the edge of the bed with his phone and typed the search into Pornhub like he was doing something illegal. The videos that came up were clinical and awkward, guys in bathrooms explaining water and depth and how long to wait after. He watched two of them all the way through, jaw tight, then set the phone face down and went to the bathroom.

He cleaned himself carefully, more thoroughly than he ever had before. Every step made his pulse climb. By the time he finished and dried off his hands were not entirely steady. He was going to get fucked today. The thought kept circling, equal parts terror and a low, steady heat that would not go away.

Back in the bedroom he checked the group chat one more time. Jude had sent a selfie from the job site an hour ago. Adam had replied with a thumbs-up from the office. Atlas’s last message was from this morning, saying he was off early but planned to hit the gym after a quick stop at home for his bag. That gave Simon a window. Atlas always took his time at the gym. There should be enough time.

He pulled on a pair of thin gray sweatpants and nothing else, then walked through the quiet house once just to listen.

Then the knock came, Simon’s hole twitched and his erection throbbed.

Simon opened the door and Rex filled the frame the same way he always did, broad and solid in the gray overalls, one strap hanging loose. Those piercing blue eyes moved over Simon once, slow, and the corner of his mouth lifted.

“I’m glad you texted,” Rex said, voice low. “And the pictures you sent were hot as fuck. I jerked off three times to them already. You sure you’re ready to get fucked? It’s a big step.”

Simon’s throat worked. He could still feel the careful stretch from earlier, the clean wetness inside him. Heat crawled up his neck, but he did not look away.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m sure.”

Rex stepped inside and shut the door behind him. The click of the lock sounded final. He reached out and thumbed Simon’s lower lip, rough skin against soft.

“Then get on your knees and show me how bad you want it.”

Simon dropped. The hardwood was unforgiving under his knees. He reached up with both hands, found the zipper of the overalls, and dragged it down. Rex’s cock jumped free already half-hard, the thick scent of skin and work-sweat hitting Simon in the face. He wrapped one hand around the base and leaned in, dragging his tongue from the middle of the shaft up to the head in one slow stripe before taking it into his mouth.

Rex’s hand settled on the back of his head, not pushing, just resting there while Simon started to work. He took him deeper on every pass, adjusting to the weight and the stretch in his jaw, spit already starting to run. The overalls stayed open around them, the rough fabric brushing Simon’s cheeks each time he bobbed forward. Rex’s breathing grew heavier above him, a low sound of approval rolling out whenever Simon managed to take a little more.

Simon kept going, eyes half-closed, the taste of clean skin and salt spreading across his tongue. His own cock strained against the soft gray sweatpants, neglected and leaking, but he did not touch it. He just stayed on his knees and sucked, letting the reality of what was about to happen settle deeper into his body with every wet slide of his mouth.

Rex’s hand stayed heavy on the back of Simon’s head, fingers spreading through short black hair as Simon worked him deeper. The cock in his mouth grew fuller with every pass of his tongue, the head pushing farther until it nudged the soft place at the back of his throat. Simon breathed through his nose and took it, eyes watering just enough to blur the view of the open overalls and the hard stomach above him.

“That’s it,” Rex encouraged, voice rough. “Look at you. Fucking natural. You been thinking about this since I had my fingers in you, haven’t you?”

Simon answered with a wet sound around the shaft, spit already running down his chin and dripping onto the floor between Rex’s boots, whimpering a weak yes. He hollowed his cheeks further and dragged back slowly, tongue pressing hard along the underside, then pushed forward again until his nose brushed the coarse hair at the base. The stretch made his jaw ache in the best way.

Rex’s hips started to move in short, controlled rolls, feeding more of himself into Simon’s mouth on every thrust. Not brutal, just firm enough that Simon had to stay open and take it. The head punched lightly against the entrance of his throat a few times, drawing a choked wet noise out of him that only seemed to encourage Rex more.

“Fucking hell,” Rex growled. “Throat’s already greedy. Relax for me. Let me feel it.”

Simon did. He forced the tension out of his neck and let the next push slide deeper, the thickness stretching his throat for a second before Rex pulled back and gave him air. Spit connected his lips to the shiny cock in a thin string. Simon barely had time to drag in a breath before Rex guided him forward again, using both hands now to hold his head steady while he gave him several deeper strokes in a row. The wet retching sounds filled the quiet house. Simon’s eyes streamed, but he kept his hands on Rex’s thighs and stayed right there, taking every inch he was given.

Rex finally pulled him off with a low curse. Simon’s mouth hung open, chin soaked, a thick strand of spit still linking him to the dark, spit-slick cock that bobbed in front of his face. His own pole was a rigid line against the soft gray fabric of his sweatpants, a dark wet spot spreading where the head strained against it.

Rex hauled him up by the armpits like he weighed nothing and shoved him backward until Simon’s calves hit the edge of the couch. One hard push and Simon dropped onto the cushions. Rex was already kneeling between his spread knees, yanking the sweatpants down to mid-thigh in one rough motion. Simon’s cock popped out, already wet.

“Your turn,” Rex said, almost to himself, and then his mouth was on Simon’s dick.

The sudden wet heat made Simon’s head fall back against the couch with a sharp breath. Rex did not tease. He took him straight down, nose pressed to Simon’s stomach, throat working around the length like he had all day to ruin him. One rough hand pinned Simon’s hip to the cushion while the other rolled his sack, squeezing just short of too hard. Simon’s thighs trembled. He reached down without thinking and gripped the back of Rex’s head, not pushing, just holding on while that skilled mouth bobbed and sucked and occasionally pulled off just long enough to drag a thick tongue over the head before swallowing him again.

Spit ran down his shaft and over his balls. Every time Rex took him all the way to the root, Simon’s hips tried to lift off the couch, only to be shoved back down. The pleasure built fast and mean, the kind that made his stomach and sack pull tight and his toes curl against the hardwood.

He was already close, breath coming in short punched-out sounds, when Rex pulled off with a wet pop and looked up at him, mouth shiny, eyes dark with intent.

“Not yet,” Rex said. “You’re not coming until I’m inside you.”

Rex shoved Simon’s thighs wider and higher until his knees nearly touched his own shoulders. The position left him completely open, the clean and soft pink ring of his hole twitching in the cool air of the living room. Rex did not rush. He dragged the flat of his tongue from the back of Simon’s balls all the way up the cleft in one long, wet stripe, then did it again, slower, pressing harder each time he passed over the tightly furled hole.

Simon’s breath left him in a broken sound. His hands flew down to grip the backs of his own thighs, holding himself spread while Rex settled in properly. The first real push of that tongue against his rim made his whole body jolt. Rex licked him open with hungry strokes, circling, pressing, then finally spearing inside. The wet muscle worked deeper, fucking into him in short thrusts that left Simon shaking on the cushions. Every time the tongue withdrew, cool air kissed the slicked skin and made him clench around nothing.

“Fucking sweet,” Rex rasped against him, the words vibrating straight into Simon’s core. He sealed his mouth over the hole and sucked, drawing another helpless noise out of Simon before going back to tongue-fucking him in earnest. Spit ran down over Simon’s balls and soaked into the sweatpants still tangled around his thighs, sensation different from fingers, wetter and more intimate, and it kept building until Simon’s neglected shaft was leaking a steady clear string onto his stomach.

Only when Simon was writhing and pushing back against his face did Rex finally pull away. He wiped his mouth with the back of one hand, eyes dark, then spit into his palm and stroked his thick pipe a few times until it shone. The blunt head nudged against Simon’s spit-slick entrance.

“Last chance to say no, before I pop your cherry.”

Simon shook his head hard, words failing him. He only reached down, grabbed both cheeks, and spread his ass wider in answer.

Rex pushed in with one slow, relentless slide. The stretch burned at first, a deep full ache that forced the air from Simon’s lungs. Inch after inch sank into him until Rex’s hips were flush against his ass and the entire substantial length was buried inside. They stayed locked like that for several heartbeats while Simon adjusted, the feeling of being so completely filled making his vision swim.

Then Rex started to move. He fucked with long, powerful strokes that dragged almost all the way out before driving back in to the root. Each thrust punched a soft punched-out sound from Simon’s throat. The pace stayed controlled but deep, every stroke angled to grind over the sensitive place inside him until Simon’s thighs were trembling and his own shaft was bouncing against his stomach, dripping steadily. Rex leaned down, bracing one hand beside Simon’s head, and kept delivering those same deep, grinding thrusts while he watched every expression that crossed Simon’s face.

“Taking it so fucking well,” Rex growled. “Knew this opening would be perfect the first time I had my fingers in it.”

Simon could only moan in answer, head tipped back, mouth open. The burn had melted into pure heat. Every time Rex’s balls were flushed with Simon’s ass. His own cock ached for friction, but he left it untouched, exactly as ordered, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter at the base of his spine.

Rex’s rhythm finally started to falter. His thrusts grew shorter, harder, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room. With a loud fuck he drove in as far as he could and stayed there, hips jerking as he emptied himself deep inside. Simon felt every hot burst of it, the way Rex’s shaft flexed and twitched through the last of his orgasm.

The sensation was too much. Simon’s own climax surged up hard and fast, his dick jumping against his stomach as he was right on the edge.

That was the exact moment the front door opened.

Atlas stood in the entryway with his gym bag still over one shoulder, frozen mid-step. His eyes took in the scene in one sweep: Simon on his back on the couch, thighs spread wide, Rex still buried to the root inside him, and the white mess already beginning to leak out around the base of Rex’s shaft and drip down over Simon’s hole onto the cushion.

Simon’s brain supplied the thought with almost hysterical clarity even as his orgasm hovered just out of reach. Atlas possessed some kind of supernatural talent for walking through doors at the single most compromising second possible.

Or maybe Atlas walked in on the single most perfect time. Either way, maybe this was exactly what Simon wanted all along.

Atlas’s mouth curved into a slow, delighted smirk.

“You guys started without me?”