Season 3 Episode 13 | My Best Friend’s Brother Dylan (Patreon)

All characters depicted in this story are fictional and 18 years of age or older. Everything portrayed is safe, sane, and consensual.

Episode 13: He Wants To Take Me On A Date

I woke slowly in Dylan’s bed the next morning, the sheets warm and rumpled around my body. Sunlight streamed through the big windows, casting soft golden light across the dark bedding. His arm was draped heavily over my waist, holding me close even in sleep. I could still feel the faint ache between my thighs and deep inside me from the night before with Lucien, that lingering stretch and fullness that made every small movement remind me of how thoroughly I had been taken on the yacht. Yet being here now, wrapped in Dylan’s warmth, felt different. Safer. Familiar.

Dylan stirred behind me, pulling me tighter against his chest. His morning hardness pressed insistently against my ass, hot and thick. A low hum vibrated in his throat as he kissed the back of my neck, lips soft and lingering, like he needed the contact to wake up properly.

“Morning, Spaghetti Noodle” he murmured, voice rough and warm.

“Morning, Dylan” I replied, leaning in to kiss him gently.

He kissed me back, slow and affectionate, his hand stroking my side. There was no rush this morning, just quiet closeness. He pulled me tighter against his chest, fingers tracing lazy patterns on my skin. I could feel the jealousy still simmering under the surface, but he was trying to keep it gentle.His hand slid down my stomach, fingers brushing over my cock, which was already half hard just from waking up next to him. He stroked me lazily, not rushing, just enjoying the feel of me in his palm. The touch was gentle but possessive, thumb circling the head where precome beaded slowly.“You came home to me,” he said quietly, lips still pressed to my neck. “Even after all that fancy shit on the yacht.”

I let out a soft laugh, the sound a little breathless. “Yeah. I did.”

Dylan hummed, his hand still moving slowly on me. “Tell me about last night.”

I turned my head slightly so I could see his face. “It was nice. Private yacht, beautiful views of the city at night, good wine, even better conversation. Lucien is… charming. He knows how to make someone feel special.”

Dylan’s hand paused for half a second on my cock. His jaw tightened just a fraction, eyes darkening with that simmering jealousy I had come to recognize. But he didn’t pull away. He kept stroking me, slower now, almost thoughtful.

“Charming, huh?” he said, voice low. “Sounds like he knows exactly what he’s doing.”

I could feel the jealousy bubbling under his skin, but he was holding it back, trying. That alone made something warm bloom in my chest.

I teased him gently, turning in his arms so we were face to face. “Jealousy looks good on you, you know that?”

Dylan smirked, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes. He flipped me onto my back in one smooth motion and kissed me hard, tongue sliding deep, claiming my mouth like he needed to remind both of us who I belonged to. His hand never left my cock, stroking me slow and firm while he kissed me breathless. There was no rush to fuck this morning. Just deep, affectionate kisses and the warm press of skin on skin. His jealousy was still there, simmering underneath, but so was his effort to be better. He was trying. And that made my chest feel strangely full.

After a long moment he pulled back, kissing my forehead softly, then my nose, then my lips again, gentler this time. His body was pressed against mine, all hard muscle and heat, his thick cock heavy against my thigh. I could feel the definition of his abs against my stomach, the solid width of his chest, the strength in his arms as he held me close.

Dylan huffed a laugh, but I felt his arm tighten around me. “I am a little jealous. I mean, a yacht? Helicopter rides? The guy knows how to spoil someone.”

I giggled softly, tracing my fingers over his abs. “I wouldn’t mind if you fucked me in public either. Doesn’t have to be a yacht. Could be anywhere.”

Dylan raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “The French wouldn’t like that very much.”

I grinned, looking up at him. “If your naked body was on display, I am sure the French wouldn’t mind at all.”

Dylan laughed, the sound deep and warm, and rolled his hips against me, letting his cock slide along mine. The friction made me moan softly. He kissed me again, slower this time, more deliberate, his tongue exploring my mouth while his hands roamed down my sides, squeezing my hips, then my ass.

We stayed like that for a while, kissing and grinding, bodies pressed together, skin growing warmer with every movement. Dylan’s body was a sight I never got tired of. His broad shoulders, thick chest, the deep cuts of his abs, the heavy weight of his cock resting against my thigh, already leaking at the tip. I ran my hands over every inch of him, feeling the muscle flex under my palms.

The conversation melted away into heavy making out and sensual grinding. Dylan was dominant but romantic, pinning me down gently with his weight, hips rolling against mine in slow, deliberate thrusts that made our cocks slide together, slick with precome. I whimpered and moaned beneath him, hands clutching his back, nails digging into the muscle as pleasure built between us.

“Dylan…” I breathed, head tipping back as he ground harder against me.

He kissed my neck, sucking lightly on the skin, then moved lower, mouth closing around one nipple, tongue flicking over it while his cock continued its slow, teasing grind against mine. I was leaking steadily now, the wetness making everything slick and hot between us.

“You feel so good,” he murmured against my chest, voice rough. “So fucking good.”

I moaned louder, hips bucking up to meet his movements. Dylan shifted, settling more fully on top of me, his weight pressing me into the mattress. Our cocks were trapped between our bodies, sliding together with every roll of his hips. The friction was incredible, slow and building, the head of his thick cock rubbing against mine over and over.

Our bodies were pressed together, skin hot and slick with sweat. Dylan was on top, breathing hard, his muscular chest heaving against mine, abs flexing with every slow grind. His cock was rock hard and leaking, sliding along mine in a rhythm that made my toes curl and my moans spill out uncontrollably.

I was lost in the feeling of him, the weight of him, the way his body moved against mine with such raw need and unexpected tenderness. The morning light poured over us, highlighting every ridge of muscle, every bead of sweat on his skin, every flex of his biceps as he held himself above me.

We were passionately grinding on the bed, Dylan on top, breathing hard, eyes locked on mine, the tension between us electric and undeniable.

After a while we slowed down, still tangled together, chests rising and falling against each other. Our bodies were slick with sweat, cocks pressed hot and hard between us, but the urgency had softened into something warmer, more intimate. Dylan’s weight felt comforting as he hovered over me, one hand gently brushing a strand of hair from my forehead. His eyes searched mine with a softness I rarely saw in him.

“I love it when you get all jealous,” I whispered, smiling up at him. “You don’t show this side of you very often.”

Dylan exhaled slowly, his thumb stroking my cheek. “Seeing you with someone else hurts sometimes,” he admitted, voice low and hesitant. “But I am trying to give you what I can. You have known me forever. I never imagined myself with anyone other than a chick. Fucked women, dated women, that was just how it was. But with you…”

He paused, the words catching in his throat. There was real hesitation and softness in his voice, something vulnerable that made my heart ache in the best way. I reached up and cupped his face, thumb brushing over his stubbled jaw.

“I know,” I said gently. “And it’s okay. I am not asking you to have all the answers right now.”

He brushed a strand of hair from my forehead again, eyes still searching mine. He paused, thumb stroking my cheek.

“Things are different with you,” he said finally.

I felt my heart skip. “Good different?”

Dylan nodded, eyes steady on mine. “Yeah. I did not know this part of me existed. That I would enjoy being with a guy like this.”

I thought about his words, about how he was thinking beyond just sex, beyond the physical. It felt big. Important. The straight guy who once fucked me in secret in his parents’ basement was now lying here, naked and vulnerable, talking about what this meant to him. It made something warm and hopeful bloom in my chest.

Dylan rolled us so he was hovering over me again, pinning me gently under his weight. His eyes locked on mine, intense and sincere.

“I want to spoil you like Lucien does,” he said. “Take you on yacht dates. Helicopter rides. All of it. But I am still trying to get comfortable with the idea of dating a man.”

My eyes widened. “Dating??”

Dylan smirked, leaning down to kiss me softly. “Yeah. You think I would fly to Paris for just a hookup? Or fuck the same person for a year straight?”

I giggled, hands sliding up his back, feeling the strong muscles shift under my palms. “Idk, maybe you are just obsessed with fucking me.”

He kissed me again, deeper this time, then pulled back with a soft smile.

“I am. But I am also obsessed with you, Troy.”

I smiled, my hand resting on his back. “And I am obsessed with you, Dylan.”

Dylan rolled onto his side, pulling me against his chest. I tucked my face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. We stayed like that for a while, warm and quiet, bodies pressed together, skin still slick from the grinding. His fingers brushed through my hair, slow and soothing.

“Let me prove it to you,” he whispered, voice rough but sincere. “I do not know what that looks like yet, but let me.”

I smiled against his skin. “Okay.”

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. I reached over lazily and checked the screen. A text from Lucien.

“Wanna meet this weekend?”

I smiled, typing back quickly. “A date again? What kind do you have planned now?”

The reply came fast.

“Haha. Not a date this time. I want to talk about LifeInParis.”

I chuckled softly and replied. “Okay, see you this Saturday.”

I put the phone away and laid back on Dylan’s chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under my cheek. A small part of me felt a little weird texting Lucien about meeting up while I was still naked and warm in Dylan’s bed, but the new agreement made it feel okay.

Dylan’s fingers continued stroking my hair. “Lucien?”

I nodded. “Yeah. He wants to talk about LifeInParis.”

Dylan hummed, his hand gentle in my hair. “If you are not going on a date with him, can I take you out on a date after?”

I looked up at him, shocked but smiling. “Really?”

Dylan smiled back, eyes soft. “Yeah.”

He pulled me in for a deep, erotic kiss. The moment turned passionate again. Our bodies pressed together, skin hot and slick, cocks sliding against each other as we ground slowly. Dylan’s hands roamed over me, squeezing my ass, stroking my back, pulling me closer. I moaned into his mouth, hips rolling against his, feeling the thick length of his cock throbbing against mine.

He was on top again, pinning me gently, his broad chest and defined abs flexing with every movement. His biceps bulged as he held himself above me, eyes locked on mine, full of heat and something deeper. The kiss grew hungrier, tongues sliding, breaths mingling. I whimpered softly as he ground down harder, the friction between our cocks driving me crazy.

Dylan broke the kiss just enough to look at me, breathing hard, forehead pressed to mine.

“You seriously want to take me out on a date?” I asked, voice shaky with surprise and excitement.

Dylan smirked, eyes dark with desire. He rolled his hips slowly, letting his thick cock slide along mine again, the head brushing my stomach and leaving a trail of precome.

“Yeah,” he said, voice low and rough. “I do.”

He kissed me again, deeper, more possessive, his body pressing me into the mattress as the heat between us built once more. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me closer, grinding against me with slow, deliberate rolls that made us both moan. The room filled with the sounds of our breathing, the wet slide of skin on skin, and the quiet creak of the bed beneath us.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him even closer, lost in the feeling of him, the weight of him, the way he was looking at me like I was the only thing that mattered.

The kiss never stopped. The grinding never slowed. We stayed like that, tangled and desperate, the morning light pouring over us as the tension between us built higher and higher.

And I knew, right then, that everything was changing.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ Season 3 Episode 14 | My Best Friend’s Brother Dylan