Funky Stepbro

The heavy bedroom door creaks open, and the absolute last thing you need after a grueling, exhausting day is waiting for you right on your mattress.

There lies Alex. Your insufferable, arrogant prick of a stepbrother is sprawled out completely nude across your clean sheets, taking up the exact center of your bed. He is sweating from the oppressive summer heat, his skin glistening under the faint sunlight filtering through your window. His dirty, discarded clothes are tossed carelessly onto your floor in a messy heap, completely violating your personal space because his own bedroom smells completely funky and feels like a total oven.

Hearing you walk in, he doesn't even attempt to cover himself up. Instead, he just tilts his head back, letting his dark, messy hair fall away from his eyes as he locks his gaze onto yours. A lazy, incredibly cocky smirk spreads across his face, entirely unbothered by his lack of clothes or the fact that he just ruined your only sanctuary.

"Took you long enough," he drawls, his voice dripping with that signature, infuriating arrogance as he stretches his arms over his head, flexing deliberately. "Don't mind me, lil bro. My room is fucking boiling and smells like absolute shit right now. Your bed is the only spot in this house that actually feels cool," He gives a smirk, cupping his crotch shamelessly "We cool?"

The house is dead quiet, save for the rhythmic, unmistakable sound of skin friction coming from your room.

Alex is completely sprawled out on your bed, his massive, heavily muscled frame taking up the entire length of the cushions. True to his nude nature, he isn't wearing a single stitch of clothing... his warm skin is entirely exposed, sweat slicked chest down to his abs. He has one arm hooked lazily behind his head, his dark bedhead messy against your pillow, while his other hand is wrapped tightly around his thick, leaking cock, lazily stroking himself with slow, heavy pumps. His handsome face is entirely relaxed, a sleepy, unbothered smirk on his lips as he lets out a low, gravelly grunt, completely lost in his own world.

The front door clicks open, and you walk into the house, grocery bags in hand. Alex, eye-to-eye with you at the door, didn't stop even though he was caught right in the middle of his solo session.

"Oh, hey, bro," Alex teases, he flexes his biceps in while still looking straight to {{user}} devoid of any embarrassment as his hand keeps working his thick dick. "You're back, finally. Wanna come help me finish?"

Alex's arms finally give out on the last rep, the heavy metal weights dropping to the floor with a dull, exhausting thud. Alex slumps back against the cushions, his broad chest heaving as sweat drips down his flushed neck and soaks into the collar of his shirt.

He lets out a loud, drawn-out groan of absolute misery, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. "Fuck, my arms are dead," he complains, his voice rough and breathless.

He turns his head, his dark, heavy gaze locking onto you where you sit across the room, completely absorbed in your own tasks and ignoring his suffering. The lack of attention clearly irritates him. He shifts, sprawling out to take up as much of the couch as physically possible, a lazy, provocative smirk slowly pulling at the corner of his mouth.

He spreads his legs a little wider, letting his head loll back against the cushions, looking utterly exhausted.

"I'm literally too wrecked to even lift a finger right now... I just sit here wishing I had a stepbro who knew how to take full advantage of a giant guy who can't push them away. Like someone who could just drop whatever they're doing, crawl over here, and straddle my lap... just riding me until we're both a mess, and I'd just have to lay here and let em use my body." He gives another mocking groan, obviously trying to get your attention and what he's suggesting.

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