Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

                “I can’t help but notice that the longest you’ve held a job was three weeks.” The interviewer said with clear disdain. He lifted his eyes from the half-page resume the applicant had handed him with an averted gaze, to the still-averted gaze of the young man sitting across from his desk. “Matsuno-san?”

                He blinked himself back to reality. “Oh, uh, I would say my drive.”

                The interviewer lifted an eyebrow.

                Matsuno Choromatsu wiggled slightly in his seat, his hands gripping his thighs with white-knuckled fervor. “My…uh…desire to succeed.” He wiped the back of his sleeve on his forehead, leaving a visible dampness. “Sir, would you mind if I excused myself to the toilet?”

                “…The interview really shouldn’t take more than a few minutes. I mean,” he opened his palm to the three inches of resume.

                “Thank you, sir.” The applicant jumped to his feet and, walking strangely with his knees bumping against one another, shuffled out of the office and down the hall.

                --

                Foreplay with Choromatsu was a bit like jogging uphill. He wiggled, he fussed, he made excuses, spat insults, clenched, made picky little demands. And then, when he got just so far, there was a brief moment of weightlessness where he’d inevitably mutter “do what you want.”

                Fucking Choromatsu was like falling off a cliff.

                He’d scream like a threatened cat and wrap you up so tightly with his legs that you couldn’t even thrust, and he would generate all of the motion from below, or he’d clamber on top and smash your pelvis to dust. Even when his partner finished, he wouldn’t let them go until he was damn well ready, fucking himself on their hands or riding their face, or launching himself on the next closest body like a heat seeker. It was certainly cute, but it made banging him a bit of an all-day affair.

                So, for Osomatsu, who woke up half horny, half annoyed at his favorite younger brother for not giving up on this job search nonsense, after a bit of well-practiced caressing and complimenting, barebacking his brother twice in quick succession, tagging out and having a smoke while Karamatsu took a turn, one more load deep up in him, and then leaving Choromatsu for Jyushimatsu to finish up wasn’t a strictly unusual morning. Of course, Jyushimatsu had that weird fire hydrant thing that the doctors could only shrug at, so by noon, Choromatsu’s gut was groaning and squirming, bloated with far too much cum. Osomatsu’s plan had been to fuck the job interview right out of his mind, but when he returned to the bedroom after lunch, the little shit was up and at ‘em, digging around in the rank futon for his underwear, keeping the mess up inside of himself with tight thighs.

                Well, fine. There’s more than one way to keep your brother unemployed.

                --

                “I’m taking it out.” Choromatsu snarled into the phone, leaning on the counter and staring at his reflection, trying to believe the stressed and chastened look belonged to Osomatsu.

                “Mmmm,” Osomatsu hummed through what sounded like a mouthful of food. He swallowed audibly. “And then what? Gonna just carry a butt plug back with you? Leave it in the bathroom? That’d be funny, actually. Go on a job interview and leave a dirty plug in the bathroom…okay, do it.”

                “Fuck off.” Choromatsu snapped. He rubbed his belly, trying to rearrange his organs. He felt overstuffed, heavy. He felt nauseous.

                “I think that plug’s the only thing keeping the cum smell from escaping, anyway. Even if you swab up there with some Wet Ones, you’re gonna stink.” There was a crunch, and when he spoke again, it was once again through a mush of food. “Looks like your best bet is to just leave it in, huh?”

                “I hate your fucking guts.”

                “When you get home, wanna see if we can pop it out by pushing on your belly?”

                Choromatsu snapped his phone shut. He dropped it on the counter and sighed deeply. His undershirt felt tight around his gut, and his pants were cutting into his hips. He turned to the side, checking the shape of his body in profile. He couldn’t tell if the bulge of his stomach was visible, or if he was just psyching himself out. In the silence of the bathroom, his lower belly sounded like a herd of agitated whales.

                He steeled his resolve. Inflated his chest, grit his teeth. If he could master this interview, he would never have to ride the bus with a liter of cum boiling in his lower intestines again. That was worth fighting for.

                --

                “I honestly did not mean for that to happen.” Osomatsu offered sadly. He tried to pet Choromatsu’s hair, but he was slapped away.

                “You can never touch me again.” Choromatsu hissed, eyes firmly stuck to the ceiling. He lay on his back on the couch, too humiliated to use his muscles.

                “Hey, I’m mad, too. That butt plug cost a pretty penny. It was supposed to stay in even if you ran a marathon. I need a new sex toy guy. I really do.” He sighed. Choromatsu remained stone-still. “At least you’re not the janitor who had to clean that carpet. Or the Karamatsu who had to clean those pants.”

                “You can never speak to me again, either.”

                Osomatsu waited a respectful three seconds before piping up, “But it’s still pretty funny, right? I mean, imagine you’re interviewing some guy, and he comes walking in, and he just stops, and suddenly there’s a god damn landslide of cum running down his pant leg—“

                “I wish you were dead.”

Chapter Text

                “Nii-san, Nii-san, come see!” Totty laughed, stumbling down the stairs. Osomatsu glared up from the television. “It’s hilarious.”

                Never one to question hilarity, Osomatsu pushed back from the table and scrabbled after Todomatsu, who was already climbing back up the stairs on all fours. Todomatsu slid shut the bedroom door as Osomatsu rounded the frame. In the bedroom, Ichimatsu and Jyushimatsu were lightly gripping Karamatsu’s forearms with matching slightly sinister grins. Karamatsu smiled nervously.

                “Ah, burazas, if we could not—“

                “Watch.” Jyushimatsu guffawed. Ichimatsu pursed his lips and blew a steady stream of air below the corner of Karamatsu’s jaw. The effect was immediate—Karamatsu’s thighs clapped together, his shoulders writhed, and his eyes rolled back into his head. He shuddered violently for a moment, and then wilted in his younger brothers’ grip.

                “What was that?” Oso asked smilingly, his finger twisting into his ear.

                “He does it every time you blow on his neck.”

                “It’s super gross.” Ichimatsu huffed.

                “Then stop doing it!” Karamatsu half-shrieked, wrenching his arm free. On the other side, Jyushimatsu blew lightly under his ear, and Karamatsu once again seized up. A mewl leaked from his parted lips. Once he regained his senses, shivering, he gasped, “Jyushimatsu, not you too.”

                “It’s cool.” Jyushi laughed.

                “It is?” Karamatsu seemed oddly hopeful.

                “Jyushimatsu thinks june bug skins are cool.”

                “They’re crunchy!”

                “Lemme try something.” Osomatsu said, dropping to his knees. Ichimatsu scuttled away to allow Osomatsu to plod to Karamatsu’s side. Karamatsu clapped his hand to his neck, but Jyushimatsu pulled it aside with ease. The tip of Osomatsu’s tongue poked out.

                “Don’t.” Karamatsu barked ineffectively. Osomatsu touched his tongue to Karamatsu’s jugular, and gave it a light tickle upward.

                Karamatsu utterly collapsed. Jyushimatsu pulled his head into his lap as he writhed, whimpering, rubbing his knees together.

                “Don’t lick him. That’s gay.” Todomatsu snorted.

                “He tastes like under the bathroom sink.” Osomatsu smacked his lips distastefully. “What do you use as aftershave, Pinesol?”

                “I like Pinesol!” Jyushimatsu bubbled. He dropped his head and gave Karamatsu’s neck a hefty drag with his tongue. Karamatsu yelped and dug his hand between his legs, gripping his own dick through his pants.

                “Aw, you made it weird.” Osomatsu sighed. “Jyushimatsu, stop licking him, he’s touching himself.”

                “I don’t care.” Jyushimatsu gave another earnest lap, and Karamatsu humped sharply into his hand. “He tastes good. Like new shoes.”

                “I taste like shoes.” Ichimatsu huffed. “Not new shoes, but still shoes.”

                Karamatsu’s keening reached a desperate pitch. He jerked his head to one side, allowing Jyushimatsu to clamp his mouth down, tongue swirling between the press of his lips. His hips bounced off of the floor, and he suddenly fell silent, shivering feverishly under Jyushimatsu’s sloppy ministrations.

                “Eww, he came.” Todomatsu snickered.

                Karamatsu’s breath thudded from his chest. He lay still in Jyushimatsu’s lap.

                “Is this like, your fetish or something? Just having your neck touched is all it—hhh!” Osomatsu inserted his index finger into Todomatsu’s belly button. He gave it a little twist, and Todomatsu’s knees buckled.

                “It’s really funny no matter who it is.” Osomatsu smiled. Ichimatsu smiled back, nodding.

Chapter Text

                I get really excited sometimes. I get in trouble a lot, but my brothers are there to help me. Choromatsu yells at me, which I guess I need sometimes. Osomatsu gives me those catnip cookies he carries around in a sandwich baggy. Ichimatsu-nii-san’s, the best, though—he gives me rubbies and if we’re alone, he’ll lick behind my ears and let me suckle. He says not to tell anyone about what we do when we’re alone. I guess he doesn’t want to have to calm the others down, too. I already make his nipples sore on accident all the time. It’s just really nice. I guess I need calming down from my calming down. Nii-san doesn’t seem to mind, though.

                I guess I did it too hard last time. He pet the back of my neck so nice, and I just wanted to keep going forever. He had to wear band-aids over his titties for the next few days. That looked really cute, but I felt bad that I hurt him. But yesterday, I was feeling flustery, and we were all alone, so I started to put my head up his shirt, and he pushed me back out. He didn’t look mad, but he got really quiet, and he wouldn’t meet my eyes. I must’ve hurt him too much last time. He was just too nice to say anything.

                I was all agitated all night. I felt bad because I made Ichimatsu-nii-san hurt, and I was all stressed already, and I didn’t have any way to make myself feel better. I tried rubbing one out in the bathroom, but it didn’t really help. All I could think about was Ichi’s boobies, for some reason.

                Nii-san’s so squishy and soft; he’s like a big warm stress ball. I just wanna rub him and pet him and smoosh his chub in my fists. I really want to. Thinking about it, and thinking about how I can’t, it just makes me more and more fidgety and sweaty. He’s always let me suckle. Ever since we were little. Maybe I’ve been abusing the privilege. I was doing it a lot for a little while there. I kinda thought he liked it, too, so I wasn’t holding back. I was being selfish.

                I tried to talk to him this morning, but he told me he was busy. Then he didn’t do anything. He was gone around lunch. At dinner, everyone was there, so I couldn’t say anything, and after, he watched TV with Oso-nii-san and Totty until bed time. So now I’m lying in bed, all frazzled, worried, kinda mad at myself, and just…sad.

                I want to calm down enough to talk to him. If I calm down, I can talk to him about how I can’t calm down. I try not to wake up Choro-nii as I shuffle out from under the covers, and I crawl past the row of ten feet to the other end of the futon.

                Ichimatsu-nii-san’s pretty when he sleeps. His eyelids are all bruised, and his eyelashes get all wet and gooey, and his mouth hangs open just a little little bit, and his eyebrows aren’t all knotted up over his nose. I like the way he looks awake, too. I like how his cheeks bounce a little when he walks. All of my brothers make me smile, but Ichimatsu’s really special.

                I’m gonna be gentle. He won’t wake up. I’m gonna be really soft and slow and gentle. Then I’ll be ready to wake him up and talk to him really calmly, and I’ll find out what I did so I can say I’m really, really sorry, whatever it is.

                He grumbles a little in his sleep as I undo his top button. I stop, and his mouth wiggles, but then he sighs and lays still, so I keep going. Once I can pull his collar aside enough to free his boobie, I tuck it under his little chub fold. Those’re really convenient. I rest my palm lightly just above his nipple, enjoying his velvety skin, how he sweats a little in his sleep. The fat on his chest is a little firmer than the fat on his belly. Dunno why.

                I don’t really wanna savor it. I bump my head down and give his nipple a lick. It’s flat and soft. It feels like you could bite through his areolas like jello. You gotta work it a little to make it hard enough to suckle properly. I roll the tip of my tongue around it tightly, and it perks up slooowly into my mouth. I can kinda roll it in and out of my lips, getting it all slick and nice. The taste is so familiar and calming, kinda warm and a little like my hand after I’ve been holding a handful of coins for a while, I already feel a little better.

                As softly as I can, I give a tiny little suck. That’s the best part, sucking on something that fits so perfectly into my mouth, his boobie so soft on my chin. That first suck makes me tingle a little, so I give another, maybe a little harder. He tastes so good. He tastes…different.

                With a little goodbye lick, I pull back and look at his boob. His nipple’s kinda red and mad, but that’s not unusual. I rest my hand over the whole thing and push down very softly. Something white beads up on top of his nipple.

                It’s not milk white. Definitely white, but a little bit thinner of a white. I poke it, and when I pull my finger back, it disturbs the surface tension or whatever enough to make it drip down the side. I touch my finger to my tongue. It’s not like milk, not really, more like juice. It’s sweet. I like it. I press my hand back into his flesh and a dribble runs down his chest.

                “Krrs-nff.” Ichimatsu grunts, his eyes popping open, shut, and then blinking rapidly. “Whass—iss—“

                “Shhh.” I put my milky finger to his lips. He sputters irately.

                “Whadder…?” His bleary gaze drops to where my hand is gripping his boob, streaked with a thin line of what I’m almost certain is human milk. His eyes widen.

                “Ah…I was just…”

                “Oh, God.” He claps his hand over his eyes. “I didn’t want…I’m sorry.”

                “Sorry?” He hasn’t pulled my hand off of him so I see no reason to move it.

                “I’m sorry.”

                “Why are you sorry?”

                “Because I’m gross. Even grosser than before.” He slides his hand down over his mouth. He looks up at me slightly fearfully.

                “Huh? But this is awesome! You’re not gross at all!” I can’t help it—I give another squish, and a little more trickles out.

                “…You’re an idiot.” He wipes where he’s leaking before it hits the futon.

                “Huh?”

                “This is your fault, you know.” He says it really matter-of-factly, like he’s not mad at all. “You made my body all weird with all your…you know.”

                “Oh. Sorry.” I don’t really feel that sorry. I’m a little sorry that I’m not sorry. I’m glad he’s like this. If I did it, I’m happy. “Does it hurt?”

                “No.”

                “Does it feel good?”

                “…A little.”

                “Can I still suckle?”

                “…If you really want to.”

                “I do!”

                He subdues a little smile. I like his secret little smiles. He pulls his shirt to the side, showing his whole chest. “You’re predictable.”

                I lick up the line of milk that fell, then take his nipple into my mouth. I guess I woke it up—it gives a healthy little spurt into my mouth. It’s the same temperature as my spit, so it’s kinda hard to feel, but the taste is there, and it’s awesome. It’s as nice as suckling always is, but then a lot better, because I get a treat, too. Ichi-nii-san’s breath puffs out of his nose. He reaches his hand up and squishes his other titty; I give his hand a little rap. That’s a waste. I’m not gonna let a drop hit the floor.

                --

                We did some research together. There’s stuff you can do—ways you can make more come out, ways you can make it taste different. We have a lot of fun, working on his body together. After a while, he starts to leak pretty often, so we have to buy him some sports bras and line them with toilet paper, but there are a lot of cute sports bras, so that’s fun too.

                I like the way Ichi-nii san sounds, the way he looks, the way he feels, the way he smells, and I love the way he tastes. I love all of my brothers, but Ichimatsu’s really special. Really, really special.

Chapter Text

                “You’re nothing. Understand? You’re a warm sex toy. A convenience.”

                Touguou’s really laying it on thick today. I squint out the window, pretending a little motorcycle guy is tracing the horizon. He ramps off of a power line and does a sick flip.

                “I could replace you in an afternoon.” He growls, his knuckles tight over the steering wheel. He seems pretty mad. I don’t know where we’re going. He never really tells me where we’re going, but usually he puts something up my butt first—a few balloons of heroin or a vibrator or something. Last time, he took me to some people—I dunno—and I guess to curry favor or whatever, he let them fuck me rough while they negotiated. That was fun. The time before that, someone pick pocketed my anus. That wasn’t fun at all.

                “You are not my lover. You are not my friend. You’re less than a pet.”

                I throw a quick glare over my shoulder. I don’t think I did anything especially irritating—I mean, I tried to climb into bed with him last night, but I do that all the time, and he just kicked me out like he always does. I drank the last six-pack a couple days ago, but he just got me upside the head and sent me out to get more, so I thought that was over. I seriously have no idea why he’s being a dick.

                He pulls into an enormous lot. There are a few dozen cars parked way up at the front, but it’s pretty barren otherwise. He eases the car up to a little booth, first giving me the “zip your lip” signal. There’s a chubby fifteen-year-old looking girl wearing a visor inside; he hands her a thousand yen, and the little gate thing lifts.

                Up ahead, past the cars, there’s a big sign. It’s covered in wood cut-outs of animals and ferns and shit. I scrunch my eyes and manage to read “TOKYO ZOO.”

                “What’re we doing here?” I ask, knowing that it’ll earn me a thigh pinch at best. Tougou keeps his eyes coldly forward. “Are we doing the exotic meat thing again? Aww, man, that was a real bummer.”

                “Shut the fuck up. Do not speak unless spoken to for the rest of the day. I swear to you, you’ll regret it.” He sidles the car into a space, sets the brake, and turns to me. “If you give me the slightest reason to, I’m taking you back, and you won’t see the light of day ‘til you’re twenty-four.”

                I blink stupidly. “Wait…what’s the date?”

                “Strike one.”

                “It’s the 24^th, isn’t it? Hey, is it my birthday? Am I twenty-three now?”

                “Strike two.” He puts his hand on the gear shift threateningly.

                I try to subdue a grin that blossoms over my face. Any sudden movement will scare him back into his purer form of dickery. Gently, gently, I uncurl my hand, touching my fingers to his knuckles. He rips his hand back, busying himself by straightening his totally-not-appropriate-for-the-zoo tie.

                Even when he fucks me in the back corner of the nocturnal house with the tarsiers goggling in horror, it’s a pretty great day.

Chapter Text

                Karamatsu was kinda bummed about how inaccurate his idea of hospitals was. He’d sort of pictured he’d wake up in a square, white room with flowers on the bedside table and the curtains fluttering. Instead, he hazily drifted out of unconsciousness he hadn’t been aware he was in surrounded by the dun of stranger’s voices on all sides. He gleaned Jyushimatsu’s presence at his side with muted comfort, and continued squinting about him, trying to understand his surroundings.

                They were in a curtained off area just big enough for the rolling bed, the stiff little chair upon which Jyushimatsu sat, and some kinda beepy machine. To one side hung a bag of something clear, with a thin hose protruding from the bottom; he followed the line of it back to the inside of his elbow, where a needle was taped in place.

                “Did I make it?” Karamatsu wheezed, gazing blearily up at his younger brother.

                “Eh?” Jyushimatsu asked, cocking his head.

                “How was the surgery?” Karamatsu gave a theatric little cough.

                “Uh, fine?”

                All they’d done was put a pin in his forearm to realign the bone (now bones) that had snapped when fell off the roof (again,) but Karamatsu didn’t want to waste a good hospital scene.

                Jyushimatsu lifted a juice box to his brother’s mouth, poking the straw at his lip. Karamatsu accepted it with a slightly sullen pout.

                “Where are the others?”

                “Home. Drink a lot.”

                Karamatsu took another few swigs, considering this. “Ah, they didn’t want to see their respected elder brother in such a vulnerable position. I understand.”

                Jyushimatsu’s mouth closed briefly, then popped back open. “Okay.”

                Someone on the other side of the curtain pushed against it; it fluttered before falling back into place.

                “Am I sharing my room?” Karamatsu asked.

                “Kinda.” Jyuishimatsu pushed open the curtain at Karamatsu’s feet, showing him a slice of the surrounding area. They were in a wide hall lined with cordoned-off areas just like his, some ajar to show their occupants, little clusters of families each with their own cynosure of a hospital bed and a varyingly sleepy patient. Jyushimatsu let the curtain fall closed, this time making sure to align the Velcro on the edges, sealing them in more securely.

                When he returned to Karamatsu’s side, he didn’t sit back in his chair, but rather threw one knee up onto the edge of the poor facsimile of a mattress, hoisting himself up over his brother. He crawled on top of him carefully, plunking his butt down on his Karamatsu’s legs.

                “Ah, braza…m-maybe not just now…”

                “I gotta.”

                “Just—well, both of my arms are sort of…” Karamatsu gestured his chin at one arm, which was useable, though limited in motion by the IV, and to the other, which was a bit of a bandaged, slightly bloody mess, not to mention numb from the shoulder down.

                “Don’t need ‘em.”

                “And the nurses will—“

                “Shut up.” Jyushi scooped his face down, burying it against the dent in the blanket that signified the gap between his brother’s thighs. He nuzzled, tickling Karamatsu’s crotch with the tip of his nose. Karamatsu pressed his legs closer together, but Jyushimatsu easily led them back open with his hands, pressing his entire face into the space between.

                “Uh—ah—“

                “Shhh!” Jyushi hissed much louder than Karamatsu. He pulled back, lifted the bottom of the blanket up over his head, and then dove back in, pressing his cheeks to the bare flesh of Karamatsu’s thighs, his closed mouth to the slightly swollen crotch of his underwear. His lips feathered over the fabric, breath steaming through.

                Into Karamatsu’s penis, he mumbled, “Don’t ever get hurt again.”

                “What was that?” Karamatsu hummed nervously.

                “I said ‘Itadakimasu!’” With that, he buried his nose into the flap of Karamatsu’s briefs, nosing it to one side and finding the flesh with his gently parted lips. Karamatsu’s breath whistled in between his teeth. Jyushimatsu sloppily smooched the smooth pink of Karamatsu’s glans, lack of technique made up for in sincere enthusiasm; he suckled a bead of pre from the slit, his long, dexterous tongue curling at the shaft. Kara’s breath pumped loudly from his nose, lips rolled between his teeth to hold in the sounds that formed behind his tonsils.

                Karamatsu was never one to bogart control, especially not with his precious Jyushimatsu, but with his arms inert at his sides, he felt a vague sense of vertigo. The waves radiating through his groin rocked his sense of balance, and he wanted to gain anchor in Jyushimatsu’s hair, or on the back of his neck, but it was no go. Jyushi bounced his chin freely over Karamatsu’s cock, lips sucking tight, his cheeks caving under the pressure. The second youngest only had three settings: hyper, juggernaut, and dead.

                “M-maybe a little slower…” Karamatsu whispered. Jyushimatsu peered up at his older brother, face framed by his pecs. “Or, ah…never mind. Whatever you think is best.”

                Jyushimatsu pulled off of Karamatsu’s dick with a theatrical pop, threads of saliva arcing up and splashing on his cheek. He bumped his head back down, lapping heartily at Karamatsu’s balls, giving his pubes an impish little tug with his teeth that had Karamatsu sucking air in through his teeth. His hands scrambled their way under the blanket, and he slid his fingers up around his shaft, applying artless, wrenching pressure as he pulled at the skin of his scrotum with his lips.

                “Mm,” Jyushimatsu pulled back, breath huffing. “you’re really pretty, Nii-san.”

                “O-oh?”

                Jyushimatsu’s hands worked fast, using the dribble of pre that had escaped down the side as lube. “Yup. Very cool. Come on my face, okay?”

                “Oh, ah—okay. If that’s what—“ His voice dropped an octave, “if that’s what my braza wants, then—aha….” Jyushimatsu licked his lips eagerly, and Karamatsu’s stomach lurched as reached the edge, tipped over, and felt the orgasm wash over him comfortably. Jyushimatsu closed his eyes, presenting his face as an open canvas, his mouth ajar, and accepted the spurts with a smile. Karamatsu humped gently into his little brother’s hand, the bed creaking, choking out his moans before they formed, his mouth gaping fishily at the ceiling. He shivered into the wind-down.

                When Jyushimatsu’s eyes opened, a string of cum dangled from his eyelashes. Karamatsu, blinking back into non-orgasm world, reflexively attempted to wipe his brother’s face clean, but his arm only throbbed sickly at his fight against the anesthetic. Jyushimatsu laughed and wiped his face on the papery hospital blanket.

                “Feel better?” Jyushimatsu giggled.

                “In a sense.” Karamatsu smiled his cool-guy smile despite his heaving breath. “Your bedside manner is top-notch, my little Jyushimatsu. However, I appear to have ripped my stitches.”

                “Oh.” Jyushimatsu’s eyes flicked to where Karamatsu’s pink flesh was yawning between the remaining stitches, drooling blood. “Do you need a nurse?”

                “Heh. Desperately.”

Chapter Text

                You’d think, what with us being five copies of the same zygote, we’d be a little more lax about sharing clothes, but I think it’s some kind of ego thing. We really don’t get a lot of “our own” stuff, so what we do have, we’re pretty clingy toward. And anyway, we’re all pretty different shapes and sizes these days; Totty’d be swimming in anything that could cover my fat ass. Plus, I don’t think I could pull off that twee little boater of his.

                Jyushimatsu clobbers his way down the hall to the TV room, where I’ve completed three-quarters of my osmosis with the couch. My eyes, the only part of me capable of movement on such a short notice, flick over to him as he goose steps through the room, plunking down at the table and starting to slap a beat into his knees.

                “Are you wearing my pants?” I muster the strength to ask.

                “Uwah?” He squints back at me somewhat sheepishly. “Ah, yeah....”

                He looks cute in my track pants, but I kinda miss his legs. ”Why?”

                He laughs nervously. “My shorts are getting smaller, I guess!”

                 I give his body a peruse. His clothes are pretty baggy, so there’s not a lot of information there, but I think his cheeks and jaw might’ve gotten just slightly rounder. He squirms under the press of my eyes.

                “You gained weight, huh?” I want to ask him to lift up his shirt, but he seems a little uncomfortable.

                “Yeah.” I can’t imagine why; he’s shoveling down the same amount of food, making me chase him around the city just like always, practicing whatever he thinks baseball is like it’s a job. He rubs his knees together, averting his eyes. “You just taste too good.”

                Oh.

                My hands lift reflexively to cup my chest. The softness fills my palms easily, and my perma-THO presses through my hoodie, my T-shirt, and my undershirt, which Jyushi likes to call a bra, but which is definitely an undershirt, even if it’s got a little lilac bow. The slight pressure sets me tingling, my chest beginning to fill.

                “Is it okay that I’m getting chubby?” He asks sadly, crossing his arms over his gut.

                “Of course it is.” I like toned Jyushi, but I will happily get used to fat Jyushi. I love the way Jyushi looks and feels, but it’s just a bonus. If he’s Jyushimatsu, no matter what, I love him all I can. I bite my lip to punish myself for being such a sappy brotherlover.

                “I don’t really want to be chubby, though. I’m all...winded.” He gives his belly a squish. I’m kinda jealous. He lifts his head suddenly. “But I like chubby Nii-san! I like you just like this!”

                I wave him off. I get it. “Well, what do you want to do?”

                “I dunno...”

                “Wanna try drinking less?”

                “Mm...”

                “Just less. Like...once a day.”

                “Hrrmph...” He arcs his spine in, forcing a little potbelly. “I guess so.”

                “So today, we’ll wait until after the bath. You like milk after a bath.”

                He nods violently, tongue flopping out.

                “That’s only...what, seven hours? That’ll be easy.”

                --

                Forty seconds later, I’m rolling side to side on my back on the floor like a stuck cockroach, groaning through grit teeth.

                Jyushimatsu left to go...do whatever he does, thank God. I’ve been too full ever since he told me I taste good, and now I have seven hours to just get fuller and fuller before I can do anything about it. I made a vow early on to never empty myself out; I looked it up, and production is based on demand, so if I’m squirting faster than Jyushimatsu can drink, soon I’ll just be a busted faucet soaking through all my clothes.

                I resist the urge to roll over on my belly and smoosh my chest on the floor until I’m all shriveled up like a used tube of toothpaste. Seven hours. The last time I fed him was around five this morning—he poked me half-awake and then we both went back to sleep—so that’s about fifteen hours I’ll go in total without any sort of release.

                I push myself up on my knees. Thinking about it won’t help. I need to stay busy.

                I’ll start by changing into a looser bra. Undershirt.

                --

                I want to snack, but the only good thing we have around is chips, and chips make me thirsty, and I know it doesn’t work like that but I feel like I should limit my fluids. I could walk to the convenience store, but walking at more than a snail’s pace causes some…jiggling, and that doesn’t help any.

                I sit up from where I’m curled on one end of the couch when the door slides open in the way that Karamatsu opens it. (Do normal siblings know the exact sound of each of their brothers opening a door? Whatever.) He gives me one of his blank-eyed looks of salutation, and then walks with affected long strides across the room, toward where his guitar sits in the corner. There’s something poking out of his hip pocket.

                “Hey…what’s in your pocket?” I mumble.

                “Ah?” He peers at me, then pulls the package out. “It’s banana chips. Would you like some?”

                Though his polite offer dampens my fire a little, I’m still in the mood to spread misery, so I push up from the couch and grab the bag from him. He smiles at me dopily. With minor difficulty, I pop the bag open, and pour as much into my mouth as I can hold, which is a good three-quarters of the package. He’s still smiling with all the sapience of a dog. He waits a good minute while I do my best to work the cumbersome mouthload into something I can swallow without dying.

                I don’t actually want the rest, but I shove them in my face anyway. No wonder I’m so fat. He’s still smiling, though. I hand him the empty package, and he takes it obediently. What a fuckwit.

                “By the way, you really should do more squats if you’re gonna wear skinny jeans.”

                Before I can even savor the freefall of his face, he slams both open palms into my chest, sending me stumbling backwards. I hit the couch and plop hard onto my butt. Stunned silent, I goggle up at him where he stands over me, fists balled.

                “You don’t know shit about glutes.” He snaps, pointing a finger at my chest. His eyes suddenly drop, and his painted-on eyebrows hop up nearly to his hairline. I follow his gaze, where two little dribbles of liquid have pressed darkly through my shirt. I clap my arms over my chest.

                “I…really need to start wearing deodorant under my manboobs.” I mumble.

                “Oh…buraza, maybe you should see a doctor. I don’t think it’s normal to be sweating that much while laying down in an air conditioned room.” He’s back to his painfully good self.

                “Well. I’m fat.” I try to chuckle.

                “You’re beautiful.” He tries to touch the side of my face meaningfully, but I dodge in time.

                “Yeah, I’m beautiful. I’m an Adonis. Thanks.”

                “More like a Venus, but—“

                “Thanks. You can go now.” I give him a big toothy rictus. He beams, glowing, and then gets back to retrieving his guitar. At the door, just before he leaves, he turns around and gives me a quick fingergun. “Beautiful.”

                I return the gun. “Right.”

                I need to change my clothes again.

                --

                I doze off after a while. I might’ve been able to sleep through the rest of the day, but a gentle tap-tapping eventually drags me out of my dream. I squint blearily at the window, where a cat is peering through curiously, tap-tap-tapping with her little paw.

                As much as I want to stay in a pile until Jyushimatsu sucks me empty as a deflated balloon, I can’t deny a true friend. I roll over, flop to the ground like a corpse, and lift myself precariously onto my feet. There’s a feeling of things shifting inside me—something sloshing—and I grab my chest yet again. I know that probably doesn’t help, but it’s a security thing. The cat squeaks out a meow, and I pull the window open, letting her hop inside.

                After retrieving the treats from my new secret spot, I lay back down on the couch. The kitten hops up into my belly and leans way into my wrists as I fiddle the bag open, rubbing her cheeks fervently on whatever part of me she can find. She kinda reminds me of Jyushimatsu. I smile to myself and hand her a dried sardine.

                She chews to the best of her ability, leaving little masticated chunks of fish and drool on my third shirt of the day. I give her another, and she does away with that too, albeit a little more slowly. She crawls up higher on my torso. Her paw sinks into the flesh of my chest.

                She probably weighs about five pounds, but just the pressure of her one paw has me jumping up, causing her to leap in surprise to the floor. She glares at me, disgruntled, as I hold my swollen titty in both hands.

                “Sorry.” I whisper, slowly laying myself back down. She starts cleaning her inner thigh in a show of disdain. “You can come back up. I won’t do that again.” She chews at her butthole.

                Frankly, I’m heartbroken.

                --

                I’ve been bathing by myself lately. I don’t want the others to see my big, red, tender nips. Jyushi joins me a good percentage of the time. I’m pretty sure the others think we’re banging, which really isn’t much worse than what we’re actually doing. (Sometimes Jyushimatsu slips a hand between his legs while he’s going to town on my tits. I keep telling myself that next time, I’ll be the one to jack him off, but I never end up doing it. I’ve completely given up on being decent. I wanna touch my little brother’s cock while he drinks from my tits. That’s just who I am.)

                Totty comes in around seven-thirty, while I’m laying on my back on the floor and counting to nowhere in particular. He doesn’t address me as he shuffles around in the closet, looping four baskets over his arms.

                Gravity’s the only thinking keeping me from pouring out like a jug. I gaze down my nose at him. “Did Mom and Dad bathe yet?”

                “I dunno.”

                “Where’s Jyushimatsu?”

                “Dunno.”

                “Have you seen him today?”

                “Nope.”

                “You’re useless.”

                “Have you even stood up today?”

                “Briefly. It was awful.” Todomatsu shoots me a wry smile. “If you see Jyushi, tell him I’m looking for him.”

                “You’re not, though. You’re lying in wait for him.”

                “Then tell him that.”

                “Roger.” Todomatsu takes his leave, leaving the door just slightly open in the way I fucking hate.

                It’ll get better. My body will figure out that making this much milk is completely unhelpful, and it’ll make less and less. Still, it’ll be a little lonely. Before I started…leaking, I would let Jyushimatsu just kinda suck at my tits when he needed comforting. I don’t know for sure, but I can assume none of us got breastfed as much as we really should’ve been. I’m pretty sure Choro’s the only one who doesn’t have an oral fixation, and that’s just because he’s too busy being anal. Anyway, the suckling really seemed to work for him. After I started making milk, Jyushi got really clingy. He barely ever left the house without dragging me along. And every few hours, he’d be up my shirt, making those cute little happy whimpers and squelchy suckles, and I could run my fingernails along his scalp and…and I’m hard.

                I give my dick a gentle squish through my pants. On cue, the door slaps back open.

                “Nii-san!” Jyushi chirps, bounding across the room and falling to his knees in front of the couch. He wiggles his butt as if he’s wagging his tail. I love that. “It’s bath time!”

                “There you are.” I grumble, very slowly and very carefully sitting up. My chest feels so tight and sore, even that little movement makes me throb. “Where were you all day?”

                “Mm…when I see you, it’s really hard to keep my hands to myself….” He squirms. That’s really not helping the boner situation. “So I went to the park and to Chibita’s and the store and then I just walked around.”

                I’m a little dumbstruck by how adorable that is, so I move on. “Are Mom and Dad done with the bath?”

                “Yup. Mom told me to be extra good at washing out the tub tonight. Wonder why?”

                I blanch a little. “Uhh. Who knows?” I can’t deal with that right now. I swing my legs off of the couch and toddle to my atrophied legs. Jyushi hops at my side like a toy dog. Together, we make our way out of the room, bounce painfully down the stairs, and to the bathroom.

                I’m definitely running through my shirt again, but I’m nearing the finish line. Jyushi snaps the door shut behind us. I kick off my pants and my underwear. Still a little hard, but that’s not that unusual. Jyushimatsu whips off his clothes like they’re tear-away, then turns with wide eyes to watch me pull my shirt up over my head. I go very slowly; lifting my arms makes me dribble even worse. Once I get it out and drop it to the floor, I don’t have the emotional strength to look down at the state my tits are in.

                Jyushi’s tongue lolls. He licks up a loose string of drool. I can’t look at his face, so I look at his body again. I guess it’s a little pudgier than it used to be; the flesh of his belly’s kinda risen like dough, obscuring the hard lines of his abs. It looks soft. I want to make marks in it. He’s got a pretty impressive erection pointed at me, too.

                “Are you, um,” he’s looking at me way too hard, “are you ready to rinse?”

                “Nii-shan.” He sucks a load of spit back into his mouth and swallows. “I can’t wait anymore.”

                “Just—let’s rinse and get in the tub at least.” There’s an audible plink of milk hitting the tile.

                “No.” His arms wrap around me, meeting in the small of my back, and he pulls me into him. His chin drops, and I thrust my chest out obediently, pushing myself into the humidity of his mouth. Looking down at his scalp, I’m forced to see my other nipple—it’s dark, the areola plumped out, spilling a steady drip of white. Jyushi presses his hands on either side of the nipple he’s suckling, forcing more out, which sort of hurts, but he’s so cute I can’t stop him. He lets out a low keen.

                “Shh-shh,” I pet his hair just like I wanted to. “Don’t let anyone hear.”

                He talks around my nipple, lips tapping at me. “Mm, but Nii-shan, you tashte sho good. Isho thick and—omn.” His mouth snaps back shut. His lips clasp, working in and out like he’s sucking a dick, his nose getting buried in the fat of my chest. He gives a big lap, and then switches nipples, slurping just as eagerly.

                “A-ah—b-be gentle, Jyushimatsu.” I chide with little energy, rubbing the back of his neck. My knees are starting to give out. We stumble back together, until I find the cold tile of the wall with my back. His hips frot forward, digging the head of his dick into the crease between my thigh and my torso. “Oh, uh—“ He gives a deliberate hump. “Okay.”

                He pulls his mouth back, opens wide, and gives my tit a squeeze, shooting a jet into the hollow of his tongue. I’m disgusting. I press my thighs together, giving him a deeper divot to fuck, and he does so with vigor, running the length of his shaft up along my skin, hotdogging my chub roll. Pushing my tits together, he manages to get both nipples into his mouth at once. He sucks hard at both, and this time it’s me whining too loud.

                “There’s so much!” Jyushi laughs.

                “Drink it all.” I instruct. It’s such a relief to be emptied, and his mouth feels so good. Together, we slide down the wall. He’s still squeezing my tits with both hands, but now his hips and thrusting into nothing, his dick occasionally slapping at me but without gaining any purchase. I take the opportunity; I wrap my hand around his shaft, bringing it to mine. He rubs against my length, slippery with pre, and I do my best to keep up with his movements, sliding my fingertip along his wet slit.

                “Nii-san, my belly’s getting full.” He pants, his hips going lazy and slow, but still hard.

                “Almost done.” I sigh. I’m almost empty, already edging on toward what promises to be a blinding orgasm, and Jyushi’s deep, strong thrusts are pushing me along. His teeth press to my areolas, not biting, just pressing, and a hot spurt of cum splatters onto my belly. I join him a second later, and pressing, sliding, uncoordinated, we wriggle and hump through our shared climax.

                Jyushimatsu burps. We pant together.

                “Nii-san? Are you sure it’s okay if I get fat?” His breath smells weird.

                “Of course.” I give his hips a squeeze.

                “’Kay. ‘Cause I don’t really wanna cut back anymore.”

                “Yeah, I don’t want you to either.” I press a shy kiss to his cheek. He laughs sweetly. “You can just play catcher.”

Chapter Text

                It took a long time to teach Jyushimatsu how to harmonize, but it was worth it—Karamatsu took the high note and Jyushimatsu took the low note, and then they met in the middle, ceasing together on cue as Karamatsu mimed pinching shut the sound with his fingers. The two shared a satisfied grin as the strings of the guitar slowed to stillness.

                “Yay!” Jyushimatsu threw his sleeves into the air. “How much have we made?”

                Karamatsu leaned to stare over the edge of his guitar, to where Todomatsu’s borrowed hat lay on the sidewalk upside-down. It had a few coins scattered across the bottom. Definitely not as much as he’d been hoping. He gave it a prod with his toe, hoping to shake a few lost bills out from the wrinkles of the fabric, but no go. He’d sort of been hoping to rent a room at a love hotel, or at least a private karaoke room. They’d earned about 400 yen.

                “Well, we can do anything you want that costs less than four hundred yen.” Karamatsu set his eyebrows to “positive.”

                Jyushi flapped his sleeves. “Let’s get cake!”

                “Good idea.” Karamatsu mangled in English. Flipping his guitar to his back so that he looked like a cool, wandering minstrel or some shit, he picked up the hat. As the two set off, Karamatsu scooped the coins into his palm, and then dropped the hat onto Jyushi’s head, inciting a litany of giggles from the younger brother. He pulled a quick Totty impression, complete with the artificial pouted smile, and Karamatsu gave a very uncool snort.

                Jyushimatsu belted out his favorite stanza of the song they’d written together on repeat as they walked, ignoring the disgruntled stares of those around them. The bakery they frequented—one much cheaper and less intimidating than Sutabaa—wasn’t too far off from where’d they’d set up busking base in the park. The strap of Karamatsu’s guitar barely had time to rub his shoulder raw before they arrived, Jyushi harmonizing with the little bell over the door.

                The cashier, a plain girl with a vacant smile, gave them the basic “hi can I help you,” to which Karamatsu responded with a hair flip and an assurance that his battles were his own. She nodded distantly and returned her gaze to under the counter, where she was pretty clearly playing with her phone.

                “Uwaaa…” Jyushimatsu lolled his tongue out as he pored over the display case. His eye flicked rapidly, separately, from one shelf to the next, before they both managed to work together to aim at a fat slab of cake with three layers of differing flavors. “Nii-san, I want that!”

                Karamatsu looked at the sign. He couldn’t read the kanji. Moving on, he looked to the price—300 yen. A quick perusal of the rest of the display showed nothing under 100 yen. He gazed balefully at the menu hung behind the cashier. A small black coffee was exactly 100 yen.

                “Ojou-san,” Karamatsu addressed the girl, seemingly oblivious to the visible flinch he caused, “we’ll have one—uh--this,” he poked the glass over the cake, “and one small black coffee.”

                “One Neapolitan cake,” she made deliberate eye contact, “and a coffee. 418 yen.” Karamatsu held out his fistful of coins. After a moment of hesitation, the girl held out her palm, and he emptied the coins into it. Eyebrows set to “annoyed,” she dropped the money on the counter and set about counting it.

                “Nii-san? You’re not gonna get cake?” Jyushimatsu pouted.

                “Nope. I’m in the mood for coffee. Black.” He gave Jyushimatsu his handsomest smile.

                “There’s only 410 here.” The girl piped up. The two stared at her silently. She looked from Karamatsu’s blank, stupid eyes, to Jyushimatsu’s blank, stupid eyes. With a sigh, she pulled her own wallet out of her back pocket and dug out three coins.

                Once Jyushimatsu had a firm, two-handed grip on his plate and Karamatsu was burning the shit out of his hand on his paper cup, but too cool to say anything, they trotted together to a corner of the abandoned café by the bathrooms, out of the sight of the cashier. After Jyushimatsu mopped up some cold spilled coffee with his sleeve, they plunked down, scooting their chairs around to the same side of the little round table.

                Karamatsu sipped his coffee. It tasted like second degree burns, but he did his very best to keep his eyebrows from crinkling. Jyushimatsu took an enthusiastic and unnecessarily vocal forkful of cake into his mouth. He beamed, holding it on his tongue, rocking from side to side in pleasure. Karamatsu forgot that his coffee was too hot and burned the fuck out of his lips again.

                “Try it!” Jyushimatsu burbled through a mouthful of cake mush. He lifted a forkful to Karamatsu’s mouth. Shooting a quick look behind him, Karamatsu popped his mouth open and accepted the bite.

                “Wow.” He mumbled as he chewed. There was a really distinct strawberry flavor to the strawberry layer, and a really distinct chocolate flavor to the super-dense chocolate layer. He’d sort of been assuming it was just food coloring.

                “You gotta try the whole thing.” Jyushimatsu insisted. He scooped up a hearty chunk of the vanilla layer along with a thick rim of icing. “Ah!”

                “Ah!” Karamatsu wrapped his mouth around the fork again.

                “Oh,” Jyushimatsu rubbed his thumb at the corner of Karamatsu’s mouth, then slipped it into his own. On a whim, Karamatsu smeared his finger through the icing of the cake, then held it up to Jyushimatsu’s lips. The younger took the finger into his mouth happily, his tongue working to capture all of the sugar. Karamatsu’s dick twitched.

                Unaware of the momentum that had been building, Jyushimatsu scooped more cake into his mouth. He chewed with his mouth open, gazing vacantly at the framed black and white photograph of a box of tissues on the wall. He fed another forkful to Karamatsu, then to himself, and then to Karamatsu.

                “That was good!” He laughed. Karamatsu only then noticed that they’d eaten it all.

                “Oh, you gave me half your cake. You didn’t—“

                “It was good, right?”

                Karamatsu paused. Then, falling into rhythm, he touched his forehead. “Heh. It was a delicacy.”

                “I want a kiss.” Jyushi chirped in what could perhaps be described as an attempt at an indoor voice.

                Karamatsu threw another paranoid glance over his shoulder. “Shh, Jyushimatsu.”

                Jyushimatsu puckered his lips expectantly. Trained thoroughly, and not really hating it, Karamatsu leaned in and pressed his mouth softly to Jyushi’s. They just sort of held their mouths against one another, enjoying the press of flesh, and broke contact silently. Jyushimatsu gave Karamatsu a warm smile, and then leaned back in, rubbing his cheeks along Karamatsu’s, nuzzling him like a cat. Karamatsu wanted to resist, but quite literally couldn’t, and so he compromised by at least not nuzzling back.

                “Maybe the house is empty…” He mumbled hopelessly.

                “Mm, maybe.” Jyushimatsu licked his jaw in the least seductive manner possible.

                Karamatsu rolled his neck back to allow Jyushi more surface area to pepper with kisses. In doing so, he caught a bit of color in his peripheral vision. He jerked straight, wide eyes landing on the cashier girl, who stood just beyond the corner, spray bottle and rag in hand.

                Her eyes narrowed. “Keep going.”

Chapter Text

                “Okay, what I’m about to show you is a little disturbing.” Choromatsu clucked as he opened the video on his laptop. Osomatsu leaned in closer to the monitor, beaming in anticipation of seeing something disturbing.

                The video opened with a shot of a girl from the shoulders down. She wore a pink sports bra over her flat chest, which was distended with the shape of her puffed-out areolas and firm nipples. After a waist as lean and tight as the stem of a wine glass, her hips belled out, fat and wide, nearly breaking free from her balloon-tight Lycra bike shorts.

                “Holy fuck.” Osomatsu laughed, instantly diving wrist-deep into his pants. Choromatsu grabbed him by the elbow and pulled his hands back into the safety zone.

                She twisted her hips smoothly, showing the aggressive bubble of her butt in profile, fingers snaking up her torso to tease at her nipples through the bra.

                “Wait…z’at a dick?” Osomatsu poked the monitor between the girl’s legs, where at the right angle, the light caught a soft but noticeable bump.

                “Yeah. But keep watching.”

                “How did you even find this?”

                “It doesn’t matter.” Choromatsu reddened, gritting his teeth.

                On the screen, the girl (dick aside, that was a girl by all of Osomatsu’s highly scrutinizing criteria,) leaned to one side, reaching for something off screen.

                “Here.” Choromatsu prod the touchpad, pausing the video. “Look.” He pointed to a small picture hanging on the wall which had been previously obscured by the porn girl’s writhing body.

                Osomatsu squinted. “What is it?”

                Choromatsu thrust his finger violently behind them, where the same picture hung on their own wall. Osomatsu looked at the video, at the picture, back at the video.

                “Okay, I have a series of questions.”

                “Okay.”

                “One—why were you going through a dickgirl video frame by frame?”

                “Next question.”

                “Are we in agreement that this is Todomatsu?”

                “Yes.”

                “If we were to watch the rest of the video, what would we see our baby brother do?”

                “Horrible and yet impressive things.”

                “And most importantly: we’re gonna fuck him, right?”

                Choromatsu’s mouth tightened to a concentrated point.

                “I’m not hearing ‘no.’” Osomatsu lifted hiks eyebrows expectantly. Choromatsu’s mouth opened, and then closed. “Fantastic. You’ve got back-ups somewhere?”

                “Three different video hosting sites and an external hard drive.”

                “Excellent. Excellent. Let’s go bring him the good news.” Osomatsu stood, then offered a hand to Choromatsu, who took it with an affected show of trepidation. “Hey, how many times did you jack off to that video before you realized it was Totty?”

                “…Once.”

                “How many times after?”

                “…Twice.”

Chapter Text

                In a slice of musky sunlight, spooning on the sleep-rumpled futon, Osomatsu lazily ran the head of his dick back and forth across the entrance of Choromatsu’s slit. One arm snaked around his waist, so that Osomatsu could cradle Choromatsu’s clit between his index and middle fingers. Choromatsu kept a tense grip on Osomatsu’s wrist, not guiding but ready to take control.

                “Mm. I love your sloppy pussy. It’s like a big, warm, melted sundae.” Osomatsu hummed.

                “Is that even a good thing?” Choro hissed through grit teeth.

                “Yeah. It’s awesome.” Choro’s slick was smeared halfway down his thighs from the extended teasing; he shifted somewhat, and there was a click of moisture breaking with itself.

                “I’m gonna come inside you, okay?” Osomatsu purred, spreading Choromatsu with his fingers and pressing at his entrance. “I wanna put a baby in you.”

                “Don’t.” Choromatsu growled without resolve. His hips bucked subtly.

                “I’m gonna, though. I wanna get you nice and pregnant. Okay?”

                Choromatsu pressed his lips into a tight line, but remained silent. Osomatsu slipped into his brother with practiced ease. Choromatsu’s breath just barely hitched. His grip on Osomatsu’s wrist tightened painfully, bending it at an odd angle, but Osomatsu knew better than to complain. Moving in slow, long, easy strokes, he elicited little mewls from the slightly younger brother, who pulled the hand petting his clit away.

                “I don’t wanna come yet.” He explained with a shudder.

                Osomatsu nodded into Choromatsu’s shoulder. He pressed his fingers to the softness of Choromatsu’s lower belly instead, scratching gently at the rough hair. Choromatsu wiggled back into the bowl of Osomatsu’s lap. With a dick as short and chubby as himself, Osomatsu didn’t have the greatest of reach at the best of angles, but they were both too comfortable to bother switching positions. Osomatsu’s breath puffed and itched against Choromatsu’s neck, hot and humid, but Choromatsu enjoyed the fleshy press of his brother’s chest against his back too much to adjust.

                “Oh…” Choro sighed, twitching meaningfully. Osomatsu took the cue to slip his fingers back around his clit, gently twiddling it with the pad of his index finger. The younger brother’s hips scooped, trembled, and his breath began to puff aggressively.

                “I’m gonna put my baby in you, okay?” Osomatsu cooed, humping somewhat more energetically.

                “Okay…” Choromatsu squeaked, nodding.

                Osomatsu tipped over, shooting a hot jet up into his younger brother, who squealed as he was pushed into his second concurrent orgasm. He wiggled, almost pulling free, his pussy hugging tight around Osomatsu’s cock, pulling his load deeper up inside of himself. Osomatsu’s fingers worked longer than his dick; he helped Choromatsu drag his orgasm out for a full minute, until, too tired to enjoy it any longer, Choromatsu slapped the back of his wrist in a signal to stop.

                The two pressed together, wet, panting out of rhythm with one another, the sweat running down their bodies tickling and itching. Osomatsu began to push off of the ground, but Choromatsu tightened his grip, holding him in place. He spasmed occasionally, riding out the aftershocks.

                After a few minutes, Choromatsu tried to stand this time, but Osomatsu held him in place.

                “Nii-san, I need to wash this out.” He grumbled passively.

                “Nooo…hold it in. I wanna make a baby in you.” Osomatsu slithered his other arm beneath Choro’s waist and held his belly in both hands. “I wanna watch you get bigger. Then in nine months I wanna do it again.”

                Choromatsu rolled his eyes. “You’re such a shitty, irresponsible nii-san. You never think about consequences.” But, he lay still in his brother’s grip, enjoying the slimy sensation of his lower belly. Osomatsu pressed a kiss to the crook of his shoulder, and Choromatsu wiggled happily, though he was careful to keep his sour look in place.

Chapter Text

                Todomatsu sat on the floor, holding a cup of water that Karamatsu, supine upon the couch, had his neck crooked awkwardly to suck from through a crazy straw. Todomatsu made a slight gesture with his wrist as he spoke, yanking the straw from his older brother’s mouth.

                “I wouldn’t care so much about the pregnancy itself, but the way your body’s all different afterwards…” He made another vague gesture, poking Karamatsu in the eye with his own straw.

                Choromatsu, rather intensely pregnant, sat on an inflatable donut on the floor. He attempted to lean forward to fix Karamatsu’s drink, but instead just sort of rocked back and forth a couple of times before giving up. “I guess that’s something you have to consider. It’s not really that bad, unless you’re...y’know.” Choromatsu waved his hand to the couch-bound brother, whose hugely swollen belly pinned him down. Though he was two months behind Choromatsu, he had the misfortune of following in their mother’s footsteps, and had four five-month-along fetuses squirming and wrestling inside of him.

                “My toes are a touch chilly. Todomatsu, would you be a dear and put some socks on me?” Karamatsu’s affectations had taken on a weird flavor as of late as he attempted to merge his failing “cool guy” persona with an equally put-upon “glowing expectant mother” that oftentimes tended more toward “Little Red Ridinghood’s grandma.”

                “You’re already wearing socks.” Todomatsu pointed out.

                “I am?”

                “Yes. Anyway—“ Todomatsu turned back to Choromatsu, “I don’t even just mean gaining weight and all that. No offense, but I don’t want those big, dark nipples. I like my nipples.”

                “To be fair, half of this is from Osomatsu.” Choromatsu gazed sadly down at the shadow of his swollen tits lurking beneath one of Ichimatsu’s old T-shirts. “He’s…greedy. I’m a little worried about him fighting with the baby.”

                “That’s a pretty legitimate concern.” Todomatsu nodded.

                “Can I have another blanket?” Karamatsu asked pitifully.

                “Why am I the one playing nursemaid, anyway?” Todomatsu grumbled, though he pulled himself to his feet. He yanked the throw from the back of the couch and spread it hastily over Karamatsu, tucking it in tight around his feet.

                “Because you’re the only one who can say no to Osomatsu.”

                On cue, the eldest slammed the door open, holding an ultrasound up high over his head. He gave a victorious shout of “TRIPLETS!” before skipping into the room, leaving Ichimatsu to help Jyushi worm his wide frame into the room. Osomatsu dropped to his knees by the other three, holding the ultrasound happily up for them to see. “So you know what that means? I’ve got a single with Choro, twins with Ichi, triplets with Jyushi, quadruplets with Shitty, and now all I need is quints and I’ll have the full set! Todomatsu,” Oso cocked an eyebrow at his youngest brother, “you’re looking fertile today.”

                “Like Hell. I’m not stretching my body out over five human beings. Just look at what four’s done to Karamatsu!”

                “I’m an ecosystem!” Karamatsu chirped cheerfully.

                “And anyway, if I get knocked up, who’s gonna be taking care of everyone around here? Speaking of which—tend to your own harem. I’m taking the night off.” Todomatsu crossed his arms defiantly.

                “Ah, so you’re free tonight?” Osomatsu leaned in close, grinning.

                “Nii-san!” Jyushi barked from the other end of the room, where he and Ichi were pressing their bellies together, as they often did, in hopes of their babies being born best friends. “You said if I had triplets, you’d play with me all night!”

                “Oh, I did, didn’t I?” Osomatsu hummed. He gave his dick a little anticipatory rub through his jeans. “Let’s see…hrmph, being a dad is harder than I thought it’d be.”

                “Die.” Choromatsu hissed.

                “Okay, here’s what we’ll do—Todomatsu, come here and I’ll impregnate you real real quick. Then Jyushimatsu, you’ll have me the rest of the night. All the rest of you…take the night off of being pregnant. Just relax.”

                “How the fuck did all of you let this jackass convince you to let him put babies in you?” Todomatsu spat.

                “It’s good dick.” Ichimatsu offered. The others nodded reverently, Osomatsu included.

                “It can’t be that good.” Todomatsu sneered.

                Osomatsu pressed a hand to his shoulder. “It is.”

                The room was filled with a contemplative silence for a moment before Todomatsu spoke again. “Okay, one shot, but I don’t wanna hear you bitch if it doesn’t turn out how you want. And afterwards, you’d better leave my tits alone.”

                “Alright! But first, I’m thirsty. Choromatsu?”

                Choromatsu’s mouth scrunched. “I’ll need help standing up.”

Chapter Text

                Choro was having a peaceful morning looking at pictures of Nyaa-chan online and daydreaming about being pegged hard by the meowing starlet when Karamatsu ruined it by calling, “Hey, Choromatsu, can you read this?” and pulling down his shorts.

                Choromatsu frowned deeply and pointily at the sight of his brother’s vagina, with its patchy, mangy smattering of pubes. As much as he wanted to make a smart remark, he was too devastated at the turn his life had taken to move his mouth.

                Karamatsu brushed his pubes into place. “Now?”

                “I can’t read vagina.” Choromatsu sighed, lifting a hand to rub at his temple.

                “No, my pubic hair. Can you read what it says?” Karamatsu framed his mound of venus within his fingers.

                “It just looks like you shaved with a vegetable peeler.”

                “It’s supposed to say ‘Ichimatsu.’ I tried to make it say ‘Osomatsu’ but I kinda messed it up. You can’t tell?” He, again, fussed with the lay of his hair, trying to make whatever imaginary lines he saw cleaner.

                “It looks nothing like—is that glitter? Is your pussy glittering?”

                “Oh, yeah—cool, right?” Karamatsu swiveled his hips so that the light sputtered like sparklers over his soft mound. “It’s edible glitter. Like what you put on cupcakes.”

                Choromatsu closed the laptop. He pushed off of the ground, stomping toward the door, nabbing Karamatsu by the crook of his elbow as he went. Yanking his shorts up over his as he stumbled at his little brother’s heels, Karamatsu garbled objections, free arm groping for an anchor along the walls of the hall. Choromatsu took a sharp turn into the bathroom, letting Karamatsu smack against the doorframe as he tugged him inside. He pulled the door shut behind them.

                “Alright, get undressed. I’m washing you out.”

                “But it’s so pretty!” Karamatsu clapped both hands protectively over his crotch.

                “You can’t just put whatever all your vagina. And definitely not food. Pants off.”

                Though his face remained in a defiant pout, Karamatsu began to step obediently out of his denim daisy dukes. “It’s supposed to go inside you. Right? What’s the difference if it goes in one orifice or the other?”

                “Oh my God.” Choromatsu pulled off his own jeans, leaving him in his waifu-patterned boyshorts, and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. “Vaginas are really good at taking care of themselves, but they have weak defenses. If you throw off the balance, you’ll regret it.”

                Following Choromatsu’s pointing, Karamatsu sat on the rinsing stool. His knees were pressed together, suddenly self-conscious. “What about perfume and stuff?”

                “Wh—are you spraying perfume between your legs? Holy shit.” Choromatsu pulled the shower head from its cradle. He turned the knob, keeping the spray on his open palm while it ran cold.

                Karamatsu ducked his head guiltily. His hands were pushing his knees against one another. “Well…I sometimes rub vanilla extract down there, so it smells good and tastes good and all that.”

                After a quick slap upside the back of Karamatsu’s head, Choromatsu carefully got to his knees on the tile. Gently, he led Karamatsu’s legs apart. As he directed the water at his crotch, his fingers grated over the nozzle so as to weaken the spray, he continued his lecture. “Okay, your vagina is supposed to smell like a vagina. And it’s definitely supposed to taste like a vagina.”

                “Sometimes Todomatsu complains…” Karamatsu squirmed.

                “Todomatsu’s a bitch. If he doesn’t like pussy, he shouldn’t be eating it. Open up a little wider.” Karamatsu hesitated before letting his feet slide across the wet tile. Choromatsu tousled Karamatsu’s wet pubic hair, then gently pulled aside one of his pudgy pussy lips with his thumb, making sure that the water reached all the way to the back of the crease. Carefully, he did the same on the opposite side. Karamatsu gulped loudly, his hips twitching. The stool’s legs squeaked against the floor as they gave a little involuntary buck.

                “Stop that.” Choromatsu slapped Karamatsu’s knee. “Opeeen…all the way.” Karamatsu spread himself, pigeon-toed. His head receded slightly into his shoulders. The younger brother very gently inserted his thumb into Karamatsu, pulling him completely open.

                “You’re not really supposed to get this deep in, but it’s better than leaving glitter in there.” He tutted. The soft pad of his thumb worked at Karamatsu’s entrance, checking for lost bits of sugar. Karamatsu shuddered audibly.

                Choro pulled back. He pulled Karamatsu’s excess flesh to one side, then the other, assuring that his brother’s genitalia was completely matte. “Okay. All clean.”

                “Oh—uh—Ch—Choromatsu?” Karamatsu stuttered, picking nervously at his nails. “Could you—“

                “Yeah, yeah.” Choro sighed, twisting the dial on the end of the nozzle to the massage pulse.

Chapter Text

                “Dude,” Osomatsu laughed, pulling Choro’s thighs apart, “your pussy is plum ruined.”

                Choro, lying on his back, frowned his trademark frown. “I’ve had three pregnancies in three year. And whose fault do you think that is?”

                Osomatsu swept his penis up and down across the mess of Choro’s abused cunt. “Todo’s beating you by four, and he’s still nice and tight.”

                “He’s not beating me. It’s not a contest.” Choro ground back, ignoring the carpet burn on his ass.

                “That’s what losers say.” Todomatsu laughed. He was doing a crooked handstand against the closest wall, using gravity to direct Osomatsu’s load to his uterus. His face was an alarming shade of mauve. “You should do my kegel tape with me! It would save us a shitload in pantyliners.”

                “I like it like this. I have a buffet of pussy to suit my changing desires.” Osomatsu slipped into Choro easily. Choro barely winced, rolling his eyes.

                Turned out that there was a bit of a market for healthy babies in Japan—though hideously illegal, by undercutting the adoption agencies, Osomatsu had earned enough to comfortably retire on before thirty, and bonus: he got to be the only baby of the Matsuno household again. The household itself had moved to a small-ish apartment just out of the city, where Jyushimatsu could roam free off-leash. Choro cleaned, Kara cooked, Totty shopped, and Oso fucked and napped and drank his life away in kingly comfort.

                “Y’ever regret your life turning out this way?” Osomatsu grinned down at Choro. His slightly pregnant belly bounced stiffly under Oso’s gyrations. “Being a broodmare for your brother?”

                “I try not to think about it.” Choro sighed. He cringed when Osomatsu (completely accidentally) hit A Spot, hips giving an embarrassing little hop. “Do you have any very well-deserved regrets?”

                “Are you kidding me? I love sex. I hate condoms and pulling out. I love big, pregnant bellies and big, tender boobies and having a constant supply of fresh milk on demand—speaking of which, Todo?”

                “Mmm?

                “Would you get me some milk?”

                Todo pinwheeled his legs cutely as he slid sideways down the wall, landing on his hip with a soft thump. He did an awkward twist to right himself. “What kind?”

                “Aaah…Ichi.”

                “It’s not good for you to drink so much milk. You’re not a baby.” Choro’s breath was beginning to hitch slightly, though he kept his scowl in place with expertise.

                “Oh, hush. It’s better than him slugging forty beers a day.” Todo chided on his way out of the room, wiping at the inside of his thigh with the hem of his t-shirt as a dribble of cum trickled free.

                “Don’t you worry about the kids?” Choro asked between gasps. He kept in contact with all of the adopters of his children using social media. Last month, while visiting with the oldest, she had called him “Uncle Choro” and held two of his fingers in her fist, and he wept wetly until he fell asleep seven hours later.

                “Not really. I mean, I guess I’ll see if I’m interested in them in another eighteen years or so.”

                “You’d better be kidding.”

                “I am a little worried about that lady who paid for Ichi’s triplets by the pound. Hey, do you need me to finish you, or can I just go?”

                “Did we get batteries? We were almost out last I checked.”

                “Yeah, we’re good.”

                “Okay, go ahead.” Oso smiled warmly at his favorite babymama before squinting his eyes shut and letting himself tip over into a soft, easy orgasm. He wanted to drop down and wrap himself tightly around the rather bored-looking Choro, but by now he knew better than to rest his weight on a pregnant belly. Almost a little lonely, he pulled out before he was completely done, squirting a weak jet onto the back of Choro’s thigh, and fell down beside him, wrapping his arms tightly around his shoulders and burying his face in his neck as he fizzled out. Choromatsu grimaced as he ruffled Osomatsu’s hair.

                “All done?”

                “Mm.” Oso poked Choro in the neck with his tongue.

                “You’re too spoiled.” Though his pussy felt a little swollen and eager, Choro was in no particular rush. “What would you have done if you weren’t born with five brothers with vaginas?”

                “Mm…I guess develop a different fetish. Something penis-y.”

                Choro adjusted under the press of Osomatsu. He cocked an eyebrow. “You’d still be into us?”

                “Well, yeah. Of course. Is that surprising?”

                “I…I guess not. A little.”

                “And you’d still be my favorite. And I’d tell the others every day. They’d say ‘I love you Nii-san!’ and I’d say ‘I love you too, but I love Choro more.’” He smirked into Choro’s damp neck.

                “Huh.”

                “Nii-san,” Todo chirped, skipping into the room with a full glass, topped with a pink crazy straw, “we’re out of Ichi milk, but I got some Jyushi milk for you.”

                “Oh…could you heat it up and put some sugar in it?” Osomatsu pleaded sweetly, sitting up on the floor. “Please? You’re my favorite, you know.”

                Choro gave a pained groan, slapping a hand over his eyes. “Oh God, I’m thinking about my life.”

Chapter Text

                “This show is boring.” Osomatsu whined, dropping his head to press to Choromi’s shoulder.

                “It’s not supposed to be entertaining. It’s informative.” Choromi gave her shoulder a harsh bump, but her brother stayed firm.

                They were watching some sort of thing about interviewing, which was boring Choromi out of her mind. The table was spread with snacks and crumbs and empty beer cans from the day’s activities Choromi didn’t feel too bad about having wasted the entire day on her ass with her brother, though—it was a Sunday, after all.

                Osomatsu snaked his hand around Choromi’s back and gave her boob a squish. She ignored it; if she got upset every time Oso squeezed her tits or her ass or her thighs or her crotch, she would’ve had an aneurysm by now. His glazed eyes didn’t seem especially predatory, either; she supposed he was just idly resting his hand on the softest thing in the room.

                His hand shifted, trapping her nipple between his index and middle finger. Still, he wasn’t tweaking, just sort of holding. Nothing unusual about that. Choromi pulled the mostly-empty bag of shrimp chips to her. She eyed the bottom, and then tipped the entire bag back into her mouth, dusting her face heavily in orange powder.

                “God, you’re so sexy.” Osomatsu hummed, his other hand rising to press to her other boob. He applied slight pressure, feeling the fat of it rise in the spaces between his fingers.

                “No I’m not.” Choromi listed off her next line in the old script. She couldn’t even say it with regret anymore.

                “Aaah…look at you.” Osomatsu sighed. Choromi was wearing one of their dad’s old t-shirts and oversized men’s pajama pants, her bangs clipped sloppily to one side. “You’re so hot.”

                Already growing bored of the old conversation, Choromi used the limited range of motion Osomatsu’s grip allowed her to shuffle through the old food containers, trying to find something they hadn’t grazed away yet.

                Oso rubbed up and down on Choromi’s tits, agitating her nipples on the alternating press and absence of his fingers. She adjusted slightly, sitting on her heel. They still had some chocolate, but she was more in the mood for something salty. Hands ran down her body, following the convexity of the underside of her boobs, then running down her torso, pressing to the softness of her hips. Once his fingers found the hem of her shirt, he pulled it up. At first, her boobs were caught on it, just lifting them up under her chin, but then one spilled free, hitting her ribs with an audible slap, and the next followed.

                “Nii-san…” Choromi chided grumpily.

                “I’m not gonna do anything. I just wanna hold ‘em.” Osomatsu basketed her tits in his tiny hands. When he lifted, the excess spilled over his palms, burying him past the wrist in her softness. “They’re so heavy. Is it hard to walk around like this?”

                “With my brother under my clothes half the time? Yeah, it is.” She popped a piece of candy into her mouth.

                “I love your nips.” Osomatsu spread his hands over Choromi’s expansive areolas. The thin skin there gave way easily to the pressure of his fingertips.

                “They’re gross. They’re too big.” Choromi scrunched her mouth distastefully, though her eyes remained pointed defiantly toward the television.

                “They’re perfect. They’re perfectly big.” Pressing his thumbs into the unresisting bud of her nipple, he inverted them, then watched them rise back out of her flesh like bread dough. “You’re completely perfect.”

                “I’ve got stretch marks.” Choromi grumbled for possibly the thousandth time in her life.

                “I love those.” Oso traced the pale stripes with his thumbs. “Big boobs should be saggy and heavy, with big puffy areolas and stretch marks and arrrgh. Just like this. Boobs should be just like this.” He gave them a firmer squeeze.

                “Not so hard. Do you ever think about anything other than boobs?”

                “Ass. Pussy. Big, chubby, wet pussy—the kind you just wanna bury your face in and feel big round thighs pressing into your ears, and sucking on your clit like a nipple—a big, soft nipple on a big, sloppy titty, bouncing around under a thin shirt, no bra—“

                “Okay.” Choromi cut him off.

                Osomatsu pushed her boobs together, then pulled them apart. He gave them a couple of slaps against each other, grinning at the sound.

                “Stop that.”

                “Lift ‘em up.”

                “Why?”

                “I wanna put my head in your lap.”

                Choromi grumbled, though she obeyed; she held her boobs up around her collarbone while Osomatsu maneuvered himself halfway under the table, laying face-up on Choromi’s thighs with his hands clasped politely over his chest. She dropped the weight on him carelessly; he disappeared from the shoulders up.

                After tucking her shirt back under her nipples, Choromi went back to watching her show, idly popping the last of the candy into her mouth. Once she ran out, she groped around herself for the bottle of juice she knew she left somewhere around here. It was missing. She eyed Oso’s open beer can, peered down to assure he couldn’t see through boob, and then snatched it up and chugged it.

                Giving a little burp, Choromi lifted her tits back up, pulling them apart so that she could look down at her very red-faced, wheezing brother. “Can you breathe like that?”

                “A little.” He panted. “Put ‘em back.”

                Choromi obliged. At least when he was buried, he was silent.

                 There was a moment of peace, just the sound of commercials and the quiet suck and squelch of Osomatsu’s nose pushing and pulling air through a heavy clog of flesh. Choromi opened the DVR and scrolled about, trying to find what to watch once her charade of learning interview tips was over. She scowled upon seeing that a movie she liked was on, but had started half an hour ago.

                Osomatsu’s lips parted, catching a bit of the underside of her boob. He sucked slowly.

                “No hickies.” Choromi demanded.

                Osomatsu tried to protest, but it was impossible to speak with Choromi’s tit pressed to his mouth. He scooted forward on her lap somewhat, trying to find air, but became distracted when he saw the swell of her nipple against her shirt. He pulled her boob down out of her top, slurping it up into his lips. Choromi rolled her eyes.

                “You’re like a baby. A gross, horny baby.”

                Oso sucked with rhythmic fervor, holding her boob in place with both hands. Her nipple plumped up, full in Osomatsu’s mouth, hard against the ministrations of his tongue. Still, her expression was stoic. She was about ten years past being rendered a quivering liquid over a couple of licks.

                Osomatsu pushed her boob up, freeing his mouth enough to speak. “Will you jack me off pretty please, Choromi-chan?” He mewled.

                “Oh, come on. Just do it yourself.”

                “But I need my hands to keep from drowning in boobie!”

                “It hurts my wrist.” Choromi pouted, already preemptively stretching her arm out, letting her elbow pop.

                “It’ll take like, two minutes. I swear. I’m totally ready.”

                “Why are you so god damned horny all the time?” Choromi sighed, reaching under the elastic of her brother’s pajama pants. She wedged his underwear down around his hips and nabbed his dick in her fist artlessly. “You’re pathetic.”

                “Yeah. I’m going back in.” Osomatsu let Choromi’s boobs slap back down onto his face. He took a moment to find the nipple again with his mouth, then returned to his sucking without missing a beat. Choromi gave Osomatsu’s dick very shallow, lazy pumps, her other hand still searching the channel guide. Sunday TV really sucked. She picked something at random and dropped the remote back onto the table.

                Peering down with her lips pressed together, Choromi surveyed her older brother—or what of him she could see under the expanse of her tits. He really was kind of charming, in a disgusting way. It was cute, how needy he got, the way he always had to be touching her. Not cool at all. But kind of cute. She ruffled what of his hair was accessible, resting the pad of her index finger in the slit of his dick the way she knew he liked.

                True to his word, a minute in, his hips were already bouncing up into Choromi’s hand. His sucking was unseemly, loud and squelching and crackling with moisture. Choromi hummed soothingly, encouraging him in breathy whispers and snatches of sentences. Her wrist was starting to hurt a little.

                She snatched up a used tissue from the table as she felt Oso begin to twitch into her. With practiced accuracy, she caught his unimpressive load as he whimpered and humped and gasped his way through his orgasm, his fingers tightening somewhat painfully into her tit. When he finished, Choromi found an unsoiled bit of the tissue and swabbed him clean. She dropped the mess into an emptied box of cookies.

                Osomatsu lay still, peaceful, his mouth still full of boob but unmoving. He allowed Choromi to pull his pants back up over his hips, and gave only minor complaint when she yanked her own shirt back down. The fabric stuck to her, bound by Osomatsu’s saliva.

                Once he gathered the energy, he pulled himself free from the press of Choromi’s boobs, breath thudding from his nose. He gave her a sleepy smile, which she reciprocated, albeit with conspicuously phoned-in enthusiasm.

                “Say the thing.”

                “Your face is absolutely covered in drool.”

                “Say it. Say the thing.” He grinned, too charming for his own good.

                Choromi made a show of rolling her eyes, but smiled as she cooed, “What a good boy. What a good nii-chan.”

                “I’m a good nii-chan?”

                “You’re a good nii-chan. Very good.” She patted his thigh. “Now go wash your face.”

                “I need to wash my dick, too—you had chip grease on your fingers.”     

Chapter Text

                “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.”

                “Are you eating?” Karamatsu asked, squinting through the mesh that separated him from the altar boy.

                “Yeah. Gummy bears. Want some?” Todomatsu spoke through a mouthful of corn syrup and food coloring, chewing unshyly.

                “No. Are you here to confess about the mess in the men’s room? Because before you apologize to the Goddess, you should probably apologize to the janitor.”

                “Oh, yeah, throw that one on my tab. But I actually wanted to tell you that I put your rosary up sister Ichimatsu’s ass. Then I took it out. Then I put it back in. Then I took it out and put it back on your nightstand.” Todomatsu continued to pop fistfuls of bears into his mouth. Karamatsu frowned deeply at the cross hanging over his chest. He had kissed it before putting it on. “Also, I had a question: can I confess for not really being sorry? Did I find a loophole? Or like, can I confess for not being sorry that I’m not sorry? The Goddess likes honesty, right?”

                Karamatsu was building up a dull headache. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his eyes. “If I assign penance, will you do it?”

                “Um…probably not.”

                “So…” Karamatsu sighed. His fingers began to move toward his rosary so that he could give it a squeeze to gather his patience, but he realized what he was doing at the last second and slapped his hand back down into his lap.

                “Yeah, I just thought maybe you should know. Also, I wanted to tell on Ichi. He didn’t even bother to confess that he’s not sorry.” Todo’s plastic bag crinkled obnoxiously as he dug his little paw down into it, scraping for the last few bears.

                “Okay. Apologize to the janitor.”

                “I mean, to be fair, that was a third his fault.”

                “I’m leaving.” Karamatsu pushed his way out of the confessional. Once, the box’s oaky, old scent had been comforting to him, a reminder that he was in the right place; now it smelled like cum and shame. Once outside, he took a deep breath of the cold air of the church, too open and too ancient to be sullied so quickly. His shoes made a clean, refreshing sound on the stone floor as he strode briskly back toward his room. Down the hall, mottled with a rainbow of light filtered through the stained glass, he swung the thick door open, and then felt his headache suddenly pulsate to full fervor.

                His bed was crushed under the weight of a dragon—a great, red, porcine thing that lay on its back, stubby legs akimbo, snorting all the dust from the splintered remains of half of Karamatsu’s furniture into a whirlwind. Straddling its broad pelvis as best he could, a familiar demon rode with unique grace, hips rolling up and down with a slow, practiced rhythm. As he lifted himself, he exposed an impossible length of ham-thick dragon dong, throbbing with veins that slithered across its girth like angry vipers, and then he plunged himself back down, spreading himself with absolute ease.

                “Ah,” He chirped cheerfully, catching eyes with the priest. “Sorry, I got bored waiting for you.” He lifted his hips, straightening his legs and rising on his toes to pull himself high enough, and then the dragon’s swollen head slipped free with a comical popping sound. Precum dribbled from both its slit and Osomatsu’s oddly uninjured hole. It hit the remains of the bed with a sizzle, sending out streams of smoke and the smell of sulphur.

                The demon snapped his fingers, and the dragon disappeared entirely, leaving only the elephant-sized impression in all of Karamatsu’s belongings. He tugged his clothes back into place casually, giving the priest an embarrassed smile. “I can fix that.”

                “Fix it and be gone.” Karamatsu instructed coldly.

                “You know that’s not gonna happen.” Osomatsu stepped closer, close enough to pick at some imaginary lint on Karamatsu’s stole. “I can smell the jealousy on you. There’s no need for that. I can give you anything you want.”

                “In exchange for my soul.” Karamatsu set his brow.

                “Well, yeah. Whaddya need a soul for, anyway? It’s your soul that’s got you all pent up and having ‘accidents’ every night. I don’t have a soul, and look at me! I just banged a dragon!” He smiled smugly, showing his delicately curved fangs. “Hey, why don’t I just give you a little sample? Here.”

                Karamatsu felt something drop heavily between his legs. He stumbled, center of balance fucked, and felt a new part of himself thud against the ground. Once he managed to stand straight again, he could feel the pull of it straining his thighs.

                “Not wearing underwear under your robes?” Osomatsu laughed. “How’s it feel? Nice, right?”

                “Fix it!” Karamatsu snarled. He made a step toward the demon, but stumbled over his own dick, thudding to his knees on the hard floor.

                “Oh, was that not what you wanted? Here—“ Oso snapped his fingers again. The weight was suddenly gone. When Karamatsu managed to lift his chin, he was nose-to-glans with Osomatsu’s shiny new dragon dick. It dribbled a stream of pre, which bubbled and sizzled as it spattered to the cold floor. Karamatsu pulled his hands free of the splash zone, crab walking backwards into safety. “Oh, that doesn’t hurt. It just tingles. It’s nice. Plus it’s spicy!”

                “Why should I believe you?” Kara growled, steadying himself against the wall as he shuddered to his feet.

                “Well, I can prove it.” Osomatsu swung his hips from side to side, waving his pepper-red dick like a flag. “I know you want it. Your arousal smells amazing. Almost as good as that soul of yours.” His thin tail looped around his shaft, jacking it loosely. “So…”

                Karamatsu’s shaking hand found the doorknob. He caught a brief glimpse of the demon’s surprise as he threw it open, spun on his heel, and went clattering down the hall. His shoes’ echoing was painful in his ears now. He ran through the main hall, where sister Ichimatsu lay smoking in a pew, up the spiral staircase, palms flat on the rough walls, and to the private sanctum in the topmost tower.

                It was a round room, barely lit by slices of light cutting through widely-spaced eyelets, with a well in the center. Karamatsu slammed his hands around the rim of the shallow well, making the pool of water within shudder.

                “Goddess.” His wrists shook. “I need your guidance.”

                The bottom of the well faded, first showing blinding sunlight, then, as Karamatsu’s eyes adjusted, the pale body of his goddess. The deity’s head was thrown back, thighs spread, hands threaded together with the three-clawed talons of the familiar red dragon on top of which he bounced.

                “Goddess!” Karamatsu snapped, slapping the surface of the water.

                Choromatsu snapped to attention, green eyes blinking open and meeting Karamatsu’s. The bouncing stilled. “…I’m sorry that I’m not sorry.”

Chapter Text

                Todomatsu wiped a bead of pre from the bulge in Osomatsu’s panties. “Stop leaking. You’re gonna ruin ‘em.”

                Oso wiggled his hips. The silk running over his dick did not help the situation whatsoever. “Oh my God! So sorry for having a boner while my little brother takes pictures of me in sexy panties, while ALSO wearing sexy panties, in exchange for a blowjob. I guess I’m just a huge pervert?”

                Todomatsu glared as he picked his wedgie. “Just keep it together for a couple more minutes. We just need two good shots.”

                The pair were on their knees in their bedroom. A blanket had been tacked up to the wall to create an amateur infinity sheet, and a few lamps gathered from around the house had their shades angled awkwardly to offer their best shot at photoshoot-tier lighting. Oso was squished into a pair of white silk panties with heart-shaped hip cutouts; his love handles bulged over the elastic waistband, and in back, more ass was out than in. Todomatsu fit his much more neatly: some kind of tacky metallic pink pleather with corseted hips.

                “This guy likes hips.” Oso poked at the doughy heart of flesh peering out from behind his underwear. “I guess that’s why he likes you.”

                Todo smiled for the first time since this chore had begun. He was rather proud of the dramatic flair of his hips pouring out from the tightness of his waist. That, second only to his implacable charm, was what he suspected kept his Patreon fat with “donations” and his P. O. box loaded with gifts.

                “Okay, lemme just…” Todomatsu fiddled with the settings of his bulky, professional-grade camera—another gift—and took a quick testing shot of nothing in particular. He set the timer to take a photo every two seconds, then sat it on the table, which they’d pushed aside to make room for their “set.” It flashed annoyingly while Todo manually turned Oso around, guided his spine in, his butt out, his thighs together, and then picked his wedgie for him. After surveying the pose for a moment, he turned around and arranged himself similarly, their hips bumping together. After getting a couple of shots like that, Todo snaked his arm around Oso’s hip. Oso responded by grabbing a fistful of Todo’s asscheek.

                “Don’t—well…no, okay.” He only NEEDED two good shots, but that didn’t mean a couple extra would hurt, even if you couldn’t see the panties clearly. “Okay, that’s enough. We need a front angle.”

                Oso hobbled obediently in a half-circle. He bumped his hip out, taking the same pose as before.

                “No—crotch to crotch.” Totty modeled, turning his body ninety degrees to the camera: his best angle. There, the dip of his spine and the flatness of his belly made for his thinnest waist, while the bubble of his butt was at its most dramatic. His modest bulge barely surpassed the swell of his thigh, but that was okay. He wasn’t internet famous for his dong, after all.

                Oso turned himself to match. The angle…did not work as well for him. Oh well. It would only make Todo look all that much better in comparison. Todo wrapped his arms around the small of Oso’s back and brought him in closer. Their bellies smushed together before their crotches did, Oso rather frenetically aroused, Todo too accustomed to the camera’s gaze to be so easily swayed. The pressure of his brother’s erection against him felt good, though; something more in his tummy than his crotch twinged pleasantly. He gave his hips a quick scoop, smiling as his insides squirmed again.

                “If you want me to get through this without ruining these—“

                “Sorry, sorry.” Totty shook his head for no particular reason. He held Oso’s back as the camera flashed, then moved his hands to his hips, careful to not block the view of their dicks. “This is really nice silk.”

                “Yeah. I dunno what real or not real silk is, but I bet this is real. Someone paid a pretty penny for these.” Oso ran his palms over his own ass. Not a winner of a pic. Still, the whisper of his palms over the fabric made Totty a little jealous; timing it between flashes, he gave Oso’s ass a quick rub. “Ooh! Hello!”

                “Hi.”

                “It’s hard to tell in those…do you have a boner?” Oso poked at Totty’s skintight panties.

                “Yeah.”

                Smiling cheekily, Osomatsu ground against Totty’s crotch. The younger one crumpled slightly into himself at the stimulation. Encouraged, Oso braided his thighs in with Totty’s, smashing their erections together. Oso took up a steady pace of humping. Totty let his chin fall to his brother’s shoulder, relinquishing easily.

                “R-real sex doesn’t make for good pictures…” Totty whined.

                “Holy shit, I guess I’d better stop then.” Osomatsu rolled his eyes as he dug his fingers into Totty’s butt, guiding him through the motion of humping back. “Kiss your nii-san.”

                “No, you taste like smoke.” Totty sneered, turning his face away.

                “C’mon.” Oso kissed the rim of Todomatsu’s ear. Still frowning rebelliously, Todo pulled his face up to Oso’s. They were too eager to bother with lips; their tongues met first. Todo followed Oso’s lead, letting both slip back into his mouth, where their lips pressed together. He sucked at his brother’s tongue, not minding the bite of nicotine so much in the moment. One hand slipped off of his butt and threaded through his hair, pushing his face in closer. What a control freak. Totty slipped his tongue into Oso’s mouth as a half-hearted show of autonomy.

                Oso broke contact with a squelch. He panted grossly into Totty’s mouth. “Bend over…I wanna hot dog you.” Totty began to reach for the camera, but Oso jerked him back into his grip. “Leave it.”

                Totty nodded. He turned, dropping himself to the blanket, thrusting his ass up into the air hungrily. Oso wrapped his hands around his hips, pressing into the soft meat of him. He gave his little brother a soft spank. Totty keened, rubbing his face down into the floor.

                Having had enough savoring, Oso ground his dick into the divot of Totty’s ass. The silk rubbed back, soft though sticky with precum. He let himself drop, pressing his chest to Todomatsu’s back, agitating his nipples against Todo’s shoulder blades. Totty gave a weak whine, grabbing Oso by the wrist and guiding his hand to his dick. Difficult as it was to get friction through the pleather, he did his best, using shifting pressure and heat moreso than actual contact to rile him up. He dug his erection down into Totty’s crack, Totty pushing himself up on his toes, smashing his butt almost a little too hard to Oso’s bulge.

                “Ah—do you need to take your panties off?”

                “No time.” Totty whined, humping back with the fervor of an animal. Oso smiled into his back, working his hand hard. Their shifting pulled the tacks free from the wall, and the blanket fell lightly over them. For a time, there was just the sound of overlapping huffing and the throbbing of the lump under the blanket; then Totty’s keening reached an effeminate pitch. Oso gave a low giggle, petting Totty’s thigh with one hand and milking him gently with the other.

                “Done?”

                “Mm…” Totty melted somewhat, only supported by Osomatsu’s groping hands.

                “Are you too tired to suck my dick?”

                “Mm.”

                “Alright, then I’m just gonna sit on your face, okay?”

                “Mmm.”

                Oso swept the blanket off of them. The flash took him by surprise, making him wince. He flipped Todomatsu like an undercooked hamburger, then threw one knee over his head. Without taking off his panties, he dropped his bulge into Totty’s open mouth. In an attempt to show gratitude, Todo gave slow, long licks to the surface of the silk as Oso humped down into him. The steamy heat of his little brother’s mouth pushed him over the edge after only a few moments; the cum broke through the thin fabric in fat beads, dribbling down onto Totty’s lolling tongue. Once he finished, he wiped his crotch clean on Todo’s lip.

                They rested for a minute, Oso’s breath thudding in his chest, Todo nearly asleep, the camera still clicking and flashing annoyingly. After gathering his wits, Oso pulled the dropped blanket up over Todo’s shoulders and dragged himself to the table.

                “How do you turn this off?”

                “P…press down on the…the thingy.”

                Oso pressed down on the thingy. “How do I look at the pictures?”

                “There’s a…um, there’s a little…button with an arrow…”

                “Oh, there it goes.” Quietly, Oso scanned through the pictures, sitting up on his heels to keep his wet crotch away from the blanket. His grin fell slightly, then became a frown, then became a grimace. “Wow, real sex really doesn’t photograph well.”

                “Click on the little trashcan. Just be sure to keep those first few. We can’t do another shoot.”

                “Hell, I’ll buy new panties if we can do that again.”

                “You can cover the dry cleaning.”

                “I don’t actually have any money.”

Chapter Text

    Osomatsu knocked on the apartment door. After a couple of raps, it fell open on its own. It wasn’t even latched. He pushed his way through, feeling along the wall for the light switch. It clicked on, yellowy and speckled with the shadows of dead bugs laying in the sconce. A narrow hall of dirty linoleum led to a barren living room that smelled not-so-faintly of cum and sweat and piss. There was no furniture, nothing aside from some empty beer cans and the curled-up pile of Choromatsu, his hoodie slung over his naked hips.
    “Wow, I thought you’d realize what it was and run.” Oso whistled, giving Choro’s back a prod with the toe of his shoe.
    Choro rolled over onto his back. His eyes refused to focus, and so he gave a very non-threatening cross-eyed glare to the ceiling.
    “Are you alive?” Oso asked, squinting in the dim light.
    “…Yes.” Choro’s voice rasped.
    “You look like you had fun. You’re welcome.” Oso placed his foot on Choro’s stomach and applied a little weight; the pressure on his belly sent a bubbling stream of cum squishing out of his ass. “Aaaah…they said they’d use condoms. Damnit. Barebacking’s extra.”
    “I think I’m bleeding internally.” Choro wheezed.
    Osomatsu dropped to a squat. He unceremoniously shoved a few fingers up Choro’s wrecked hole, wiggled them freely, eliciting a tired squeal from his brother, and then pulled them free with a gross pop. He held his hand up close enough to see in the darkness. “I don’t see any blood. You’re good.”
    They waited in silence for a moment, Choro leaking slowly, Oso wobbling as he squatted on his heels.
    “Did you keep count?” Oso asked lightly.
    “…Nineteen.”
    “Really? That’s annoying, isn’t it? Let’s make it an even twenty.” Oso parted Choro’s sticky thighs, yanking him up onto his lap by his hips. Choro lay back like a corpse. “Yeah, no worries. I got this. You just relax.”
    “Do whatever you want. Just…I’m gonna need you to carry me home.”
    “That’s the plan.” Oso smiled contentedly, pulling out his dick and pressing it to the sloppy mess of his brother’s asshole.

Chapter Text

The men on the bench across from you look like they’re doing something wrong. As a decent citizen, you’ve taken it upon yourself to watch them, and then if they do something interesting, post about it on social media. The patter of the fountain drowns out their voices, you can read their expressions clearly: the heavy one, in red, looks cocky, self-assured; the skinny one in green looks irritated and a little frenzied. They look similar—like brothers, or maybe even twins. Otherwise, you’d be on edge waiting for one of them to pop their dick out.
The fat one pops his dick out.
The skinny one sputters, stares around, and catches eyes with you. His devastated squeal breeches the distance between you. Diving into the other’s ear, he points a finger at you. The fat one’s eyes meet yours. He gives a lackadaisical grin and a wink. Hesitantly, you wink back. The fat one says something to the skinny one. His face goes valentine red, but he gives a stiff nod, and then drops to his knees on the pavement. The one in red makes a square shape with his thumbs and index fingers, then twitches one; it takes you a second to recognize that he’s miming a camera. Curious and maybe a little turned on, you lift your phone and pull up the camera mode.
The one in green’s head is bobbing. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he’s blowing the other one. Behind them, a pair of girls walking on the path slow to a stop. They watch with unmuted interest. One of them pulls out their phone and joins you in recording the moment.
The skinny one suddenly coughs, sputters, and pulls back. The fat one laughs hysterically, grabbing a fistful of the other one’s hair and yanking him close; the skinny one pushes back, trying to shuffle back on his knees, but the fat one seems to be stronger. You look on in slight concern. Whatever happened, it seems to be done. The one in green goes limp, defeated, and the one in red lets go, still racked with giggles.
Once the dick sucker gathers the will to live and pulls himself back, you see that the front of his hoodie is soaked, dribbling down to a puddle on the asphalt below. You give the girls behind them an “are you seeing this shit” eyebrow lift, and they respond with an “I am seeing this shit” eye bug. The dick suckee smiles glowingly down upon the other, admiring his own handiwork.
You still can’t hear them, but you can read the shape of “I love you” on the fat one’s lips. The skinny one is turned away, but whatever he says, it makes the fat one laugh.

Chapter Text

                The community pool was a sweltering stew of sweating old men, refuse, and pee. Jammed elbow-to-elbow, fat moms and screaming little kids with runny noses floated, baking in the unrelenting sun, slapping at horseflies. It was a miserable affair for everyone involved.

                Ichiko watched a dead bee get sucked into the filter. “Maybe we could sneak into the water park if we wore wigs?”

                “How would the wigs stay on while we swim?” Jyushiko asked. She held onto the edge of the pool, kicking her feet and a very disgruntled yet shy young man.

                “Huh.” Ichiko reached over and pulled the inch-thin string of polyester that Jyushiko was claiming as a bathing suit back over her nipple, which had slipped free yet again. Her big basketball tits—a gift from an old boyfriend—were a little too round and unyielding to hold her sling bikini into place. Ichiko was having a similar yet different problem—too shy to expose her soft belly in a two-piece, she had jammed her fat ass into a modest black one-piece that fit nicely over the top two-thirds of her body, but which was making its best attempt to find where her asscrack ended and her pussy began. She’d relinquished herself to an afternoon of having her cunt flossed soon after noon, and was now just trying to keep her butt to the wall.

                Jyushiko doggy-paddled for a moment, lifting her feet up off of the slimy cement floor. “There’s nothing to doooo.” She whined, letting pool water flood into her gaping smile.

                “That’s disgusting. Don’t drink the pool water.”

                “I’m not drinking it.” Jyushiko let the water drain back out.

                “That’s still disgusting. There’s so much pee and—I don’t even know in here.”

                “I don’t care.” Jyushiko bounced up on her toes. “Wanna see how long I can hold my breath?”

                Ichiko pursed her lips. She knew damn well what the dumb slut was planning—they hadn’t even gotten through the locker room without a Jyushiko-brand detour—but they were friends—friends?—for a reason, after all. “Okay.”

                Jyushiko inflated her cheeks dramatically, then did a two-foot pencil-dive under the water. There was very little room for her between Ichiko and the other two hundred people crammed into the pool, and with the water so shallow, she needed to do quite a bit of paddling to keep herself submerged; she managed to prod four people in one stroke. Ichiko watched the little blob of yellow and brown of her friend pull up to her thighs, gripping her with her arms and her legs like a baby koala.

                Ichiko rolled her mascara-smeared eyes. Real smooth. She leaned her elbow up over the edge of the pool, not particularly minding the sting of the rough cement on her skin.

                Jyushiko’s pigtails bobbed like clouds in the water. She pressed her face to the unyielding surface of Ichiko’s thigh. Eyes already grapefruit pink from chlorine exposure, she peered across the incredible span of her friend—friend? She loved her thighs, her hips, her butt, but best of all was the sheer mass of her, the space she took up. Her eyes dilated slightly as they landed on her front wedgie. Thoughtlessly, she gave one of her pudgy pussy lips a gentle pinch. Ichiko hopped on her heels, not truly surprised. She nervously glared about herself; everyone was pressed together so tightly as it was, nobody noticed the girl grinding on her friend’s leg.

                And grinding she was. Jyushiko’s swimsuit was tucked into her armpits, tits free and chafing against Ichiko’s thigh. She spread her open, letting her suit slide tight around her clit. Ichiko shivered. Goosebumps splattered across her pale arms. She crossed her legs, but Jyushiko slid her hand between them, securing the space she needed to let her other hand slip down deeper between her thighs, which pressed back against the invasion and themselves pleasantly. Easy as navigating her own apartment, Jyushiko located Ichiko’s opening. She pressed at it through her swimsuit, pushing the polyester even deeper into her.

                Not even a foot away, an old man was hacking. Beside him, a mother held her infant at the surface, letting him explore the sensation of deep water. And there was Ichiko, getting fingered. No wonder they were banned from the water park.

                Jyushiko grabbed a handful—a minor portion—of Ichiko’s ass. It tickled more than anything, but being groped like that was a turn-on itself. She kind of liked—okay, she loved the way Jyushiko’s hands were so entitled to every portion of her body. Not just her hands, Ichiko remembered as Jyushiko nuzzled her nose to her slit. Losing patience, she yanked the swimsuit entirely to one side, letting it cut into the crease between her thigh and her gut. She attached herself to Ichiko’s pussy like a lamprey, lips tight, sucking hard and indiscriminately—outer labia, clit, inner labia. Ichiko gave subtle little humps, not enough to even cause rippled in the water, as Jyushiko’s tongue slipped forward, hotdogging her. Her breath hitched. Though surely she couldn’t hear anything under the water, Jyushiko could read every molecule of Ichiko; she ran the tip of her tongue from her clit, down across the entrance of her pussy, then flicked back, making Ichiko twitch. She gripped tight to the edge of the pool, letting the cement rip at her skin, mouth breathing in a way that seemed pretty god damn obvious, but which she couldn’t help. Jyushiko tongefucked her friend with a smile.

                Ichiko beamed as she came, eyes rolling back, holding her breath to keep from squealing. Her nails scraped along the pavement, ruining her manicure, feet leaving the floor of the pool as her knees buckled. With an audible exhale, she gave Jyushiko a gentle tap on the top of the head, giving her the okay to surface.

                She exploded out of the water like a mermaid, throwing her hair back. Ichiko quickly pulled her swimsuit back over her tits, making brief eye contact with the hacking man, whose eyes were bugging.

                “How long was that?” Jyushiko asked.

                “What?”

                “You were counting, right?” Her mouth closed in a rare show of nonplussment.

                “Oh…I forgot.” Ichiko pulled her bathing suit from where it was buried in the crease of her thigh, flattening it out over her puffy pussy. The old man watched unshyly. Ichiko at least felt comforted that he had missed the best part of the show.

                “Aaah you bitch! I’m pretty sure I broke my record, too!” Jyushiko pouted, crossing her arms over her chest, once again disturbing her useless bathing suit.

                “What’s your record?”

                “Well I don’t know now.”

                Ichiko opened her mouth to protest, but changed her mind. It didn’t matter. “Bet I can beat it.”

Chapter Text

                Osomatsu and Ichimatsu were on their knees on the floor, fucking rough. Oso had one of Ichi’s arm twisted back uncomfortably, and was using it as a kind of a reign, yanking him in with a wet smack, letting his shoulder graze the carpet, and then pulling him back. They’d laid a towel out beneath them in a rare show of consideracy, and were making good use of it; Ichi’s pussy juices dribbled down his thighs, sending out little splatters each time Oso’s stomach smacked against his soaked ass.

                Through grit teeth, Oso hissed, “You’re really not much to look at…”

                “Shorry,” Ichi mumbled through his lolling tongue.

                “But this body was made for breeding. Big, soft ass; fluffy, sloppy pussy—I hate when people shave down there. I hate that stubble. Rugburn. Bleh. Why would anyone do that?”

                “I shink—“ Ichi swallowed thickly. He was having trouble gathering his thoughts as Oso’s chubby dick pounded out the shape of his insides. “I think it’s—for—for eating out…”

                “Oh, like so you don’t get all that pube floss?” Oso somehow managed to hump pensively. “Well, not like anyone’s gonna be eating your nasty-ass cunt. They’d drown. Oh, but y’know what else I love? Your disgusting tits.” Oso flattened his own not-entirely-flat chest down against the rolls of Ichi’s back, wrapping his hands around Ichi’s hanging, swaying tits and smashing them up against his rib cage. The fat oozed between his fingers, nipples clenched between his knuckles.

                Ichi curled into himself like a pillbug as he rolled over into his third orgasm of the afternoon; they were hitting his weakened, exhausted body harder each time. He squealed uninhibitedly, elbows buckling, letting himself flop to the floor while Oso smashed into him at an allegro pace.

                “Oh, and that. It’s loose as fuck most of the time, but when you come your pussy tightens up so it’s almost normal, and you basically never stop coming. Though this is kinda gross.” He ran his fingers through the dribble of liquid gushing down Ichi’s thigh. He was a squirter. “I could write my name in it like a dirty car window.”

                Ichi was making a sound not unlike a ready teapot as his uncomfortably long orgasm refused to subside. Oso sped up his thrusting as he felt his sticky balls draw up; as he tipped over, he fucked in short, sharp humps that made Ichi yelp. He emptied out his load into his brother, breathing hard against the back of his ear. When he pulled out, strings of moisture stretched between them, snapping and plopping to the soaked-through towel.

                “Hold it in.” Oso directed, clamping his fingers over Ichi’s pussy like a chip clip. Ichi obliged, tensing. “Augh...this is a mess. Ugh. I shoulda worn an apron. God damn.” Ichi’s quivering thighs gave out; he smacked down onto the towel, his belly squishing into his own puddle of fluid. “I’m gonna take a bath. Clean up, okay?”

                Huffing, Ichi gave a weak nod. Oso grinned, giving Ichi’s ass a well-done slap that left a pink handprint. Shakily, he got to his feet, pulling his sopping underwear back over his still-swollen dick. From behind, he admired his handiwork; Ichi mired in his own mess, pussy pink and swollen from abuse. It had been a productive day.

                “Spray some air freshener, too. Stinks in here.”

Chapter Text

                “You’re not allowed to borrow any of my things ever again.” Todomatsu bitched as Ichimatsu entered the room.

                 Ichi needed a moment; he sat down on the floor, stretched his arms out over his head, and gave Todomatsu a scrutinizing, squinting look. “What’s the problem?” He grunted.

                “I lend you Karamatsu for one afternoon, and you return him covered in bite marks. And! His nipples are a wreck. I can’t even touch them without him whimpering. This is just like the time I lent you my scarf and you returned it covered in blood.”

                Ichimatsu considered Totty’s tirade, then released a long sigh. “I told you, the scarf was an accident.”

                “You still won’t tell me whose blood that is.”

                “Why would you lend Karamatsu to me if you didn’t expect him to be a little roughed up? That’s just obvious.” Ichimatsu flexed his claws.

                “You’re not allowed to borrow any of my things ever again.” Totty repeated, turning up his nose. “And I’m deleting Neko Atsume from my phone.”

                Ichimatsu’s eyelids blasted open. “Wait—don’t do that! I just bought a thousand gold fish! Don’t kill my kitties!”

                “Well, you killed my titties.”

                “Totty, don’t!”

                From the couch, Karamatsu watched the scene with hollow eyes.

Chapter Text

                Choromi skipped her eyes over to Oso as he tromped his way down the freezer section, arms loaded with bags of chips. “No.” She hummed, picking the list back up out of her purse, which sat in the baby seat of the shopping cart.

                “Mom said potatoes, right? These are potato chips. Potato chips.” He emptied his armload into the cart.

                “I have no problem leashing you up out front. I brought the collapsible water bowl.” She scanned the selection of frozen peas, trying and failing to do the division required to detect the best deal.

                Oso crept up behind Choromi with little to no stealth. He snaked his arms under her armpits, snuggling her hard nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, giving them a light tweak. “You cold?” He sneered directly into her ear.

                “Put the chips back and get the potatoes, numbskull.” Choromi grunted. She knew better than to give Osomatsu either positive or negative reinforcement for feeling her up in public; he was after a reaction, and she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, even if it meant enduring the stares of the couple selecting peaches a few doors down.

                “I’ll lend you my hoodie if you show me just how chilly you are.” Oso nestled his groin into Choromi’s buttcrack through her sweats. He cupped her tits through her T-shirt, gifting them a couple of spirited bounces. The couple grabbed a bag of fruit and hurried out of the aisle, muttering to one another. The man shot one last look over his shoulder as they rounded the corner.

                “I don’t wanna hear you bitch if dinner’s late.” Choromi sighed. Oso hummed in disinterest as he lifted Choromi’s shirt up over her bra. He slipped his hands under the cups, his cold fingers finding her nipples easily. The hair on her arms lifted, but her face remained stony. “Don’t get us banned from another grocery store.”

                “Aaah I don’t care about dinner, all I want to eat is your fat, slimy pussy.”

                “It’s too cold. Just wait ‘til we get home.”

                “I want it now. I was a pussicle.” Oso gave her nipples a rough pull, letting her bra ride up to her collarbone. She sighed as she saw her reflection in the frosted glass doors on all sides: getting felt up in the freezer section on a Thursday morning. Again. This was her life.

                An old man passed down the perpendicular aisle. He blinked in confusion at the pair, Oso giving him a smug grin, before he zoomed off with his cart wheels rattling.

                Oso let one hand trail down the curve of Choromi’s breast, down her ribs, over the pout of her soft belly, down into the waistband of her sweats. He slipped his fingers shallowly into her slit.

                “God damn that’s cold. God damnit, Nii-san. All you had to do was get potatoes you useless piece of sh—shhh—wait wait right there but slower…” Oso obliged happily, running his cold fingertips down the length of Choro’s pussy and back again, his knuckles ruffling in her pubes. Choromi’s legs spread a little without her giving them permission to do so. She clutched the back of Oso’s wrist for balance, helping guide him through the motion that was making her head spin.

                The old man from before appeared back at the end of the aisle. He pointed the pair out as an acne-speckled girl in a blue vest appeared at his side. Oso watched the girl approach with friendly curiosity.

                “You can’t…do that here.” She squeaked as she came to a stop a few feet from them.

                “Oh, sorry.” Oso kept his fingers moving. “Just let us finish up, okay? We’re almost done. Right?”

                “A-almost…” Choromi whispered, eyes glued to the floor.

                “No.” The girl did her best to bark, her hand finding the walkie talkie on her hip. “You gotta…you two need to leave.”

                “I’ll give you a turn if you give me like, two minutes.” Oso begged, finger fucking Choromi with vigor, trying to finish her up before the argument could end. Her pussy squelched and slurped loudly around the intrusion. Choromi attempted to squeeze her thighs together more tightly in attempt to muffle the sound, but it didn’t do much.

                “Wait, a turn with you, or a turn with—no! Get out!”

                “Fine, fine. Damn.” Osomatsu pulled his hand free of Choromi’s pants, slipping the wet fingers between his lips and licking them clean. He jerked her top back into place unceremoniously. “We’ll just go to the store down the street, thank you.” He wrapped one arm over Choromi’s shoulder, guiding her quivering mess of a form toward the entrance, nabbing her purse from the cat as he went.

                “Nii-shan, we’re banned from that shtore, too.” Choromi hissed through her drool.

                “Yeah, but she doesn’t have to know that.”

Chapter Text

                The bus plodded along down the street at a cow’s pace. It seemed unable to outrun the air inside of itself; the three Matsunos, slick with sweat yet chafed from the brief run to the stop, fumed and huffed silently in the heat, each hoping one of the other two would do something annoying so that they could have the chance to snap. Pressed hip-to-hip in the inward-facing seats behind the driver, Ichimatsu, Osomatsu, and Choromi offered matching stink-eyes to the other passengers, who seemed to have as little patience for their surroundings as the impatient three.

                Across the way, a baby in a stroller wedged awkwardly into the aisle began to fuss. What was hopefully the mother squatted up onto her feet to scoop it onto her lap; giving the other riders a brief ”I dare you to bitch” glance, she lifted one side of her shirt, covering her nipple with the baby’s head, and set about feeding her child.

                Only Choromi had the social intelligence to not gape. Ichimatsu and Osomatsu both attempted to use their still-latent X-ray vision to scan through the baby’s soft skull to see the boob beneath. The mother glared unshyly at them, but they were too absorbed in the scene below her chin to notice that she had a face.

                Osomatsu’s voice crackled from disuse as he piped up, “Choromi, I’m hungry.”

                “We’ll be home in ten minutes.” Choromi grumbled.

                “We’re hungry now. Right, Ichimatsu?”

                “Hm?” Ichimatsu tore his eyes away from the young mother. “Oh, uh, sure, I could eat.”

                “See? We’re starving.” Osomatsu set his jaw and stared pointedly at his only sister. She rolled her eyes up and away from her oldest brother; unable to look ahead at the poor woman, to her annoying brother on one side, or to her annoying brother on the other, she instead stared at the escape hatch on the ceiling. “Listen, Choromi, we can do this the easy way, or the funny way. Right, Ichimatsu?”

                “What? Oh, uh, yeah.” Ichimatsu nodded with a certainty his face didn’t suit.

                “I’ll get Mom to make you a snack as soon as we get home.” Choromi mumbled through clenched teeth.

                “I want it now.” Osomatsu’s voice hit a shrill pitch on the last syllable. A few eyes around the crowded bus turned to the trio.

                “Osomatsu.” Choromi gave one last impotent warning, inciting a grin in the shittiest of the three.

                “I’m hungry now! I want it now! Feed me, feed me!” Osomatsu projected, grinning uncoyly, kicking his little legs. The other passengers gazed curiously at the grown man having a tantrum. Choromi buried her face in her palms. “Gimme gimme gimme! Now! Right, Ichimatsu?”

                “Oh, uh, yeah. G-gimme.” Ichimatsu’s desire to be a shithead was combating his desire to remain unseen. He very slightly pounded his fists on his thighs, though his head was tucked between his shoulders like a turtle. “Nnnnow….”

                The bus driver looked at the ruckus through her backwards mirror, her brow tightened. Choromi sighed; as much as she didn’t want to reward her asshole brothers for their behavior, she also didn’t want to walk the last mile home. Knowing damn well she was digging herself even deeper into a lifetime’s worth of digging, she hissed, “Fine, just shut the fuck up right now.”

                “Yay!” Osomatsu shouted, then, realizing his mistake, whispered, “Yaaay.”

                Choromi kept her eyes firmly on the floor as she lifted her sweat-darkened wifebeater over her voluminous bust. Ichimatsu and Osomatsu stared at her chest like it was a TV screen; though her bra was unflattering, flesh-toned with full coverage, the specks of moisture already bleeding through the hard bumps of her nipples gave each brother a nauseating lurch of arousal. She reach under each cup and pulled out a folded-over square of paper towels, which were soaked through from a full day of absorbing her excess. The whining, cajoling tone of Osomatsu never failed to make her fill, to her utter disgust. When she unstrapped the front clasp of her bra, her overfilled breasts bounced freely into her lap. The motion shocked free a few droplets of milk, which dropped rudely to the already-filthy floor of the bus.

                “Just hurry up.” Even with her eyes averted, Choromi could feel the heat of thirty sets of eyes either loathing her or trying to feel her up psychically. The press of cloth against her had been a little soothing, though; now, her nipples itched for stimulation, sore and swollen, providing an uncomfortable heaviness at the ends of her already weighty breasts.

                Osomatsu needed little encouragement; he ducked his head and took a cheerful lap at the milk already beading on her hot skin before wrapping his lips snuggly around her oversized nipples. Ichimatsu was always a little shyer, a little slower. He hovered hesitantly, oddly flat tongue just slightly extended. Annoyed, Choromi grabbed him by a fistful of hair and shoved his face down into her spare tit. Once he managed to find a position in which his mouth was full, but his nose was free to breathe, he set to a leisurely pace of drinking down on what his older sister had to offer. The asymmetry of the two boys’ rhythms doubled the stimulation to an almost unpleasant peak; Osomatsu, in a tongue and lip tornado, guzzling down her milk by the mouthful, while Ichimatsu gave delicate little pulls with his lips and flat-surfaced laps with his rough tongue.

                Choromi had tasted her milk before. Osomatsu liked to tuck her nipple into her mouth and watch her go to town while he fucked her pussy sore. It was thick, heavy, a little salty-sweet like rich cream. It left a glaze over her tongue for an hour, and the weight and warmth of it in her belly made her sleepy and calm. As such, she couldn’t really hate the look of soft satisfaction on her brothers’ faces as they drank their fill. In a way, it was nice to be useful, even in such a disgusting and shameful way. The jealous gapes of a not-altogether-small portion of the fellow passengers certainly didn’t feel badly, either.

                Feeling an hormonally-mandated surge of affection, Choromi rubbed both of her brothers between the shoulder blades in soft circles. She hated their guts, but they looked so cute and charming from this angle. Osomatsu’s little hands ran down the length of her breast, milking her like a cow while he slurped down everything she offered. Nobody could accuse him of being unappreciative. Meanwhile, Ichimatsu’s sluggish pace left her feeling a little imbalanced and unsatisfied; tutting comfortingly, she squeezed her boob with both hands, increasing the flow so that Ichimatsu’s eyes bugged slightly. He caught the rhythm, though, and set to swallowing thickly as Choromi emptied herself out into his mouth.

                “Okay, okay, don’t get upset tummies.” Choromi’s voice was low, soothing. She gave each brother a quick ruffle on the back of the head before pulling her bra back into place. Osomatsu tried to hold on, but was too lazy to fight when Choromi gently pushed him away by the forehead. He stared sleepily, pleasantly, at her while he released an unashamed belch.

                “You’re disgusting.” Choromi tried, and failed, to subdue her smile.

                “Guys? I think we missed out stop.” Ichimatsu piped up, pointing out the window.

                Osomatsu lay his head on Choromi’s shoulder. “Let’s just take another lap.”

                “It’s not a long walk.” Choromi mumbled, laying her head atop Osomatsu’s. Ichimatsu lay his head on Choromi’s opposite shoulder. “If we fall asleep, we’ll just miss it again…”

                The bus pulled over onto the shoulder of the road and clunked to a stop. The bus driver turned to stare at the three through the mirror. “You three have to leave.”

                “Right, okay.” Choromi sputtered to full awareness. The three grabbed their shit and filed obediently off of the bus, onto the shoulder of the highway.

Chapter Text

                Jyushimatsu had scoured the whole house—the toilet, the closets, the crisper—and couldn’t find a sign of Ichimatsu. He hung his bottom lip in frustration and adjusted his uncomfortable erection through his trunks. Well, no reason to pout. Refreshing his grin, he went plodding up the stairs, into the bedroom.

                Osomatsu was sprawled over the couch, playing with Todomatsu’s phone. Choromatsu lay on the floor, eyes shifting over the screen of the laptop. Neither looked up at Jyushi as he trotted to Choromatsu’s side and plopped down on his knees.

                “Osomatsu-nii-san, can I use Choromatsu-nii-san?” Jyushi gripped the waistband of Choro’s jeans in preparation. The third son craned his chin over his shoulder to give Jyushimatsu a disgruntled glare.

                “Yeah, that’s fine.” Osomatsu still didn’t look up from the phone.

                “I’m a human being.” Choro snapped. Jyushi pressed on regardless, yanking Choro’s pants down his thighs, scooting him down the carpet somewhat. Choro squawked in displeasure, but offered only token struggling as Jyushi pulled his boxers down. The younger Matsuno gave his brother’s rather small butt a two-handed squeeze, eliciting a tickled little squeak. Deeming the foreplay complete, he then hiked Choro’s ass up into the air by his hips and jammed his dick between his thighs.

                “NO NO NO NO—“ Choro clenched everything as Jyushi’s cockhead smashed against his vulva.

                “Wha-at?” Jyushi  grumbled in a rare show of annoyance.

                “You gotta prep him.” Oso flicked his eyes up for the first time. “Do you not usually prep Ichimatsu?”

                “Ah…no. He’s pretty much always kinda drippy and sticky and hot and—“

                ”NO!” Choro clapped his thighs together as Jyushi gave another go at entering him.

                “Just eat him out a little. That always works for me.” Oso shrugged, returning to his business on the phone. “Did you guys know Todomatsu password protects his pictures? What a paranoid little freak.”

                Jyushi nodded in understanding before lifting Choro’s hips up until his knees left the floor. He tucked his mouth in between Choro’s legs, hotdogging his pussy with his tongue from behind.

                “Ohh…” Choro hummed, letting his legs part a little. “Oh, wow.” Oso glared over the top of the phone. Choro spread his thighs wide. “Wow. Wow.”

                “How come you never ‘wow’ when I do that?” Oso grumbled.

                “His tongue is—shit, it’s so flat and big—I—holy shit.” Choro humped back into Jyushi’s mouth. Jyushi gave a grunt as he pulled back. Choro let Jyushi flip him like a broken puppet so that he lay on his back, and Jyushi smashed his mouth back down onto Choro’s pussy. He slipped his tongue easily into Choro’s slit, letting it burrow in until the floor of his mouth stung.

                “Holy shit. Shit. Okay, fuck.” Choro hissed, grabbing fistfuls of Jyushi’s scalp. Jyushi glared up at Choro over his mound as he gave his hair an unpleasant yank, but didn’t stop pumping his tongue in and out. Choromatsu felt like Jyushi was tongue-fucking his uterus; he swore he felt the warmth and tickle in his belly. Barely a minute in, his eyes rolled back and his breath shuddered quietly. His nails dug into the carpet, and he began to release a breathy keening.

                Osomatsu looked on, annoyed and aroused. “If you’re that easy, why don’t you just fuck a stray dog?” He grunted, crossing his legs tightly. Choro squeaked rhythmically, hips twitching, heels digging into the floor. Sweat rolled down the back of his calves. As Jyushi’s tongue slurped its way free of Choro’s entrance, Choro’s hands smacked to the back of Jyushi’s skull, smashing him back in. Choro whined protests as Jyushimatsu, brow knitted, fought his grip, finally managing to jerk his head free from between his brother’s thighs.

                Choro rocked violently from side to side, clapping his palms over his eyes, groaning. Oso sneered and asked, “Is he still coming?”

                “Yup.” Jyushi nodded. Not particularly interested in Choro’s contact-free orgasm, he grabbed an ankle in each hand and spread Choro like a folding chair. Plunging into the spasming swamp of his brother’s pussy, Jyushi let his tongue loll, an afternoon’s worth of frustration easing at once. Choro kicked his feet like a bratty kid, still coming hard.

                “Oh come on!” Oso snapped, throwing Totty’s phone at the back of Jyushi’s head. If the younger Matsuno noticed, he certainly didn’t care. He pumped hard in and out of Choro’s puffy slit, indifferent to the loud squelching and slurping and to the juices dribbling down Choro’s asscrack and to the carpet.

                Oso missed the phone now. He crossed his arms over his pudgy titties and pulled his knees into his chest.  Maybe if he still had the phone, he could record the whole mess, and he’d feel both included and productive. His folder of Choro porn was pretty fat, and he had plenty of candids of Jyushi, but he didn’t have much of the two together. Maybe for a good reason.

                Choro slammed his head repeatedly into the ground as he was wracked with his fifth consecutive minute of coming. Jyushi’s tongue poked from between his teeth, face screwed up in concentration as he excavated his older brother’s insides, fucking deep and fast with his overly generous portion of cock.

                The squelching, smooshing sound was making Oso a little hungry. He stood, pulled his hoodie down over the little bump of his erection, and shuffled morosely from the room, slamming the door on his way.

                In the kitchen, their mother was doing dishes peacefully despite the rhythmic thump on the ceiling. Oso eyed the overhead light nervously; the chain was swinging violently, and the glass case around the bulb was shaking.

                “Mom, can I have a snack?” Oso mewled cutely, grabbing the back straps of her apron and giving them an adorable tug.

                “There’s a bag of chips on top of the fridge. Would you mind telling Ichimatsu and Jyushimatsu to be a little careful? We’ve pretty much used up all the insurance we’ll have for a year.”

                “That’s Jyushimatsu and Choromatsu.” Osomatsu grumbled, standing on his tip-toes to nab the bag off the fridge. He scowled as he read the front of the package; kettle cooked. Oh well.

                “Oh. I thought it went Jyushimatsu Ichimatsu, then Choromatsu you. Wait, you’re Osomatsu, right?”

                “Yeah Mom, I’m Osomatsu.” After pulling a beer from the door of the fridge, Osomatsu plodded back upstairs. He pushed the door open with his toes, passively leaving it ajar as he returned to the couch. As he popped open the bag of chips, he scowled at his younger brothers.

                Choromatsu was sobbing, tears and snot streaming down the sides of his face. Jyushimatsu was, still, unfazed; aside from a slight hitch in his breath, he showed no signs of exhaustion or any special concern for his older brother beneath him.

                “Mom says to try not to kill Choro cuz we don’t have life insurance.” Oso popped the tab of his beer one-handed and took a slug.

                “’Kay!” Jyushi sang.

                “I’M DEFINITELY DYING.” Choro growled in anguish, clawing at his own face, leaving long red lines in the shapes of his nails.

                “Ah, you heard him, Jyushi. C’mon, pop out.”

                Choro gave a bird-like squawk and grabbed Jyushi’s ass in both hands, holding him in place. “Ah, no go.” Jyushi hummed. “I’m almost done anyway.”

                “That didn’t take too long.” Oso noted, his brows hopping.

                “Yeah, I wanna save a couple for when Ichimatsu-nii-san gets home.”

                “Oh.” Oso took a deep slug of his drink.

                Choro had a thin, white foam running from the corner of his mouth. There was a regular squelch as his butt smacked down into his own puddle, and then popped back up to meet the punch of Jyushi’s cock. The younger Matsu’s pace sped up briefly, then, with his head rolling back on his shoulders, he gave slow, deep thrusts as he pumped his brother full. Choro went limp but for a violent shivering and his twitching digits.

                When Jyushi finally did pull out, there as a sound not unlike a bottle uncorking. Jizz poured freely from Choro’s abused pussy, joining the swamp of his own juices soaked in the carpet.

                “Nii-san? You okay?” Jyushi asked as he pulled his trunks back up over his softening erection. Choro lay silent on the carpet, still spasming violently. “Huh. He passed out, but I think he’s still coming. …Cool!”

                Oso shoveled a fistful of chips into his mouth. “Yeah, he does that all the time when I have sex with him. Harder, really.”

                “Really? Wow, Choromatsu-nii-san’s lucky. Can I have a drink of your beer?”

                “Nah.”

Chapter Text

                Normally when I’m on the treadmill, I like to keep an eye on the mirrors so I can watch all the gross old dudes and the occasional cutie admire my cardio-bunny butt from behind. Not that I don’t notice them today; it’s just that my attention is focused on the reflection of my brother, who jogs beside me. He’s smiling dopily, emptily; I envy his ability to turn off his brain sometimes. He probably doesn’t realize that his ear buds are blasting loudly enough that we can all tell he’s listening to the same sappy 80s pop song on repeat. He’s got just a pretty misting of sweat. I follow a bead that trembles just under his ear, then breaks its hold, running down the muscles of his neck, dripping off the precipice of his clavicle into the empty expanse of tank top that hangs between his pecs. All that’s nice. It’s really great. But my eyes keep dropping to the mass in his loose basketball shorts.  It hops as his feet leave the ground, creating a noticeable hill, then smacks down to his leg like a mallet on a piano wire. It’s too noisy in the gym to really hear anything, but I swear I can feel the percussion of contact.

                Through my own ear buds, an obnoxious beep cuts through my music. I pop them out, catching eyes with Karamatsu, who follows suit. We both turn off our machines, slowing to a plodding walk and then to a stop as I pull my phone from its clip on my hip, and he pulls his supermarket mp3 player from his collar.

                “Good job.” I hum, wrapping the cord of my headphones around my phone.

                “Thank you!” He chirps. He lifts his thick arms, wrapping them behind his head, stretching his broad back. I take the opportunity to wipe a little drip of sweat from his temple, unshyly pressing my thumb into my lips afterwards. The corners of his smile tighten slightly.

                Kara carries both of our gym bags as I thread the way through exercise machines to the locker rooms. There’s more of a crowd in here than anywhere else in the building. Not really surprising. Nobody really goes to this back alley gym to work out—at least, not with the machines. Wink.

                As we walk back to our row of lockers, I notice Kara’s gaze wander to some skinny twink straddling some speckly old man’s fat thigh. There’s another gross old fart sitting on the bench beside them, and his hands are spidering up the little twerp’s back. I don’t let myself pout. I have nothing to be jealous of.

                “So!” I clap my hands as I turn suddenly on the heel of my sneaker. Kara jumps. “Ready?”

                “Ready!” He overcompensates by standing rail-straight. Whatever. I bend way lower than I have to to pull my handy-dandy tape measure from the side pocket of my gym bag. When I return to his level, he’s relaxed slightly. Good. I straighten the tape between my thumbs, and obediently, he lifts his arm parallel to his shoulder, flexing as hard as he can. Really, as hard as he can. His teeth are grit. Precious.

                I do it slowly for suspense, pretending it’s some artful science instead of wrapping tape around his bicep. Pulling tight, I squint at the number. I pull a little tighter. It’s still just shy of where I need it to be.

                “Am I big enough?” Kara asks, his voice hopping cutely.

                “Uh.” I give one final yank. There, it hit the mark for a second. Close enough. “Yup! That’s a good boy.” When I release the tape measure, it leaves a white stripe across his bicep. He closes his eyes in pleasure as I tickle under his chin, letting my palm slide back to his neck, ruffling the short hairs at the top of his spine. “Who earned a reward?”

                “Me?” Kara lilts, forgetting to affect a baritone. Too fucking cute. I give his trap a little squeeze.

                “That’s right, sexy boy. Big sexy man.” He beams. If he had a tail, it’d be wagging.

                When this deal first started, he had the grace and allure of a dead fly in a butcher window while undressing in the locker rooms. I don’t know if it was the fact that all eyes were on me that made him so awkward, or the fact that his eyes were on me. Now, though, he gets quite a few stares himself as he pulls his damp tank top up over his hard belly, not least of all from me. The bad lighting just makes the shadows between his abs deeper. He’s still a graceless oaf, but he’s a built graceless oaf now.

                I almost forget to undress myself. A little more eagerly, a little less seductively than I might have if I weren’t so jittery with anticipation, I yank off my little sports bra and my little bike shorts. I shove them in beside my neatly folded actual work-out clothes. I do have to do some actual work to maintain my shape. After all, I’m over fift—I mean, I’m almost twenty-five.

                Karamatsu always held himself like he was David himself, but now that he actually has the build to back it up, he looks pretty incredible with his shoulders back, chin high, dong hanging freely. The dong’s gotten quite a bit nicer, too, thanks to my special protein shakes (and a Google-translated online supplement shop located somewhere in Eastern Europe.)

                I’m getting too antsy to keep playing cool. I grab him by his soft dick, ignoring his furrowed brow, and use it as a leash to gently but assertively guide him to the showers. My temperature’s high from jogging, but his dick is even warmer in my palm. I can feel as his pulse quickens.

                There’s a not-terrible guy in the shower jacking off openly while he eyes the other dudes showering. He switches his gaze to us as we trod in, and I stick my tongue out at him pleasantly. Some kid probably younger than me is humping a dad-aged guy’s leg as they wiggle their tongues together. Why do all these cute-but-not-as-cute-as-me guys always go for the old farts? I’m guessing there’s money involved. Been there, done that. Not as fun as it sounds.

                When I release Karamatsu’s cock, it doesn’t fall all the way down. Good. The pipes squeal as I turn on the water; the first pulse of cold water hits my back dead-on. I compulsively grip my own dick, both to protect it from the cold and to hide it while in its most delicate state. Karamatsu certainly doesn’t seem to mind. His eyes are latched to my nipples, which are painfully erect and hard. I manage a cheeky smile as the water starts to warm, defeating the spread of chicken skin across what are supposed to be my smooth and very touchable thighs.

                “Come rinse off.” I coo, patting my hip like I’m calling a dog. He joins me in the narrow radius of the spray, his chest pressing to mine, poking me in the thigh. I can’t make him taller, but I don’t mind that so much. I like the way we fit together like puzzle pieces, the way his mouth can find mine so easily. His pecs are positioned just right to fill my hands as I grope him, his own hard nipples pressing sharply into the soft webs of skin between my bones. The day after tomorrow, we measure his chest. The way it feels, I doubt I’ll have to fudge the numbers again.

                I run my hands down his narrow waist, slipping back to grab a hold of his tight little butt. My lips tap his earlobes as I lean close and mumble, “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

                “Y-yeah?” He asks. His hands float nervously just over my hips.

                “Oh, yeah. Everyone in this gym wants you. Nobody can take their eyes off of you.” I can feel his erection growing against my thigh. “They can look all they want. I’m the only one who gets you, though. Everyone’s so jealous of me. Everyone’s jealous of us.”

                He’s a simple little fella; his dick is already prodding my belly. I’ve done enough. Using him to steady myself, I fall to a squat, sitting on my heels. His fingers thread into my scalp, tousling my wet hair. For my enjoyment rather than for his, I give his shining red glans a kiss, just barely spreading my lips. His knuckles tighten, but I don’t mind. The tip of my tongue traces his slit, clearing out a film of pre. He’s got that skunky meat spunk, but I don’t really care. The fact that it tastes nasty just makes the whole thing more depraved, which makes it hotter. I take him into my mouth, feeling the weight of him on my tongue. I know everyone’s watching the show, and I love it. It’s cheesy, but I meant what I said. Everyone’s jealous of us.

                His breath is fluttering sort of effeminately. In porn and stuff, they always portray giving head as a really submissive thing. I don’t really agree. I mean, I like having my ears used as handlebars as much as anyone, but for the most part, I’m the one in control. I’m the one who gets to decide how good it is for him. As a little treat for myself, I press my teeth lightly to his skin. He whimpers, but trusts me enough to stay still. What a good boy. I let his dick slide down the slick length of my tongue, pressing comfortably to my tonsils.

                “Ahh, Totty…” I’ve trained him to say my name a lot when I suck him off. I quicken my pace, rolling his head to my lips, and then back, deeper. He huffs my name again, and I let him into my throat. It’s only been a few weeks since he got big enough to reach back there, and he’s still not quite used to the sensation. He doubles slightly, cradling my head in his abdomen. I like the way my throat spreads to accommodate him. It feels…fulfilling. Also filling.

                There was some chatter in the showers before, but now it’s quiet but for the echoing splatter of water on the tile. We have a bit of a reputation here; I’m guessing that’s why we haven’t been kicked out for “forgetting” to pay our membership fee the past three months. There are a few guys who draw crowds, but as twins (as far as they know,) we’re a sort of hot commodity. Nobody’s ever made a move to join us, but I definitely wouldn’t stop them if they tried. I’d love to get fingered while I slurp down on Karamatsu—no, I’d love him to squat beside me and help me suck off every willing and able cock that was shoved in our faces, all night until our bellies were warm and full and our jaws were stuck open. Watching him get fucked hard like a sissy up against the lockers sure wouldn’t be bad. I’d like to watch that manly persona of his get torn to shreds.

                “S-slow—eh!—slow down, I don’t—“ He tries to hold my head still, but I’m too excited to be restrained so easily. I swallow around his cock, humming determinedly, letting his wet pubes scruff my nose. His knees buckle slightly as he peaks; he holds onto me to stay on his feet. I don’t provide a very steady brace, though. I milk him hard, taking his cum like a beer bong, straight down my esophagus. Even as he fizzles to a stop, letting out little sleepy squirts, I can’t bring myself to stop sucking. He finishes, panting, legs wobbling, letting me take most of his weight, and I hold him happily in my throat.

                “To…” He puffs, falling back slightly until he’s leaning against the wall. Poutily, I let him slide free. “Todo…I…”

                “Mmm?” I lick my lips. It’s just for show. I didn’t miss a drop.

                “I…loveyousomuch.”

                Oh. Aww. I wipe my wet hair from my forehead as I stand up. Conscientiously, I kiss him just to the side of his mouth. “I love you too, Nii-san.”

                Later that week, I was diagnosed with athlete’s foot on my knees.

Chapter Text

                Blowing out air in a sort of whispered whistle, Oso popped his head through a freshly laundered hoodie. He adjusted the hood so that it sat neatly folded over his shoulders, double checked his fly, and set out of the bedroom at a bouncing pace that suited the imaginary rhythm of his quiet song.

                He took the stairs two at a time, not even disheartened by the slightly painful jibble of his moobs. It was a good day. He lept the bottom three stairs, landing with a thump on the foyer. As he squatted down to pull on his sneakers, he heard the sliding door to the hall shush open. He didn’t need to turn to know it was Choro; freaky sextuplet psychic shit and whatnot.

                “Hey, good, you’re here.” Choro barked.

                “Not for long! It’s the hundred-year anniversary of the race track’s opening, so they’re throwing, like, a thank-you thing. There’s gonna be free beer, and all the jockeys are gonna be topless girls.” Oso clicked his toes together in excitement. The worn rubber didn’t make much of a sound.

                “Well…I’m horny, so...y’know. Too bad.” Oso turned to peer at Choro over his shoulder now, narrowing his eyes. Choro leaned rather indifferently against the doorframe.

                “Aaah, sorry, not today. Looks like it’s just a Chorofappsky day.” Oso heaved himself to his feet with an unfortunate fat-dad harrumph. Standing more erect than he typically would, he placed his hands on his hips assertively. He kept his carefree grin despite a tightness gathering in his forehead.

                “Um. No.”

                That was hard to argue with. Oso scratched his nose contemplatively. “Yeah, but…it’s like, once every hundred years. So I’ll go this afternoon, and then this evening—“

                “Look, Nii-san,” he spat it like an insult, “your one use is your fat, slutty ass. So the least you can do is make it readily available.”

                ”You’re in a mood.” Osomatsu muttered, crossing his wrists awkwardly over his crotch.

                “You’re pissing me off. I’m not gonna make you do anything, okay? But if you’re not ass-up in the bedroom in one minute, you’re grounded from cock for one week.” Slickly, Choro rolled off of the doorframe and went marching up the stairs. Oso watched his bony butt as it ascended out of sight. His gaze dropped to his shoes.

                One week without cock. A whole day of free beer, horse racing, high-speed boobs, and he thought he heard something about hors d'oeuvre…but…. His mouth suddenly tasted very badly. Like acid. He wiggled his tongue between his teeth. He needed something to wash out the taste. Some dick sounded good. Beer would also work, but dick sounded a little better. He peered at the door. He peered at the stairs. He had such a god damn boner.

                Sighing in defeat, Oso sat back down and pulled off his shoes.

Chapter Text

                So god damned wasted he had attained anti-gravitational properties, Osomatsu did an Olympic series of acrobatics to maneuver his way into the common area. His head stuck the landing on the corner of the low table like a gold medal champion. Though he held for applause, there was only silence.

                Disgruntled by the rude lack of response, he lifted his face from the carpet and squinted meanly through the blood toward the only other resident of the room, one-a thems. He opened his mouth to complain, but only belched. A dribble of acid snuck from the corner of his lip.

                “Oi. Oi. G’mere.” He snapped, clapping his thumb to his fingertips. What’s-his-face stared for a moment before obliging, crawling across the floor to kneel beside his fallen brethren. “You. Which one’s you. Is it? Is it the…which one?”

                “I’m your favorite brother, Karamatsu.”

                Both of Osomatsu’s hands crawled up the carpet to clap against Karamatsu’s thighs. He gave them an experimental squeeze. “There’s no Garamatu. Garamatssssu.”

                “Karamatsu. The handsome one. The rebel with the heat of gold.”

                Oso’s hands spidered around Karamatsu’s back to cup his ass. “Nahnahnahnah, there’s, um, Choro, the furry, the other furry, the annoying one, and, um…y’know, this one.” He bucked his chin up to aim a disgustingly accurate impression of Totty’s default expression toward Karamatsu.

                Karamatsu ran a hand self-consciously over the hair on his lower belly. “I’m not that furry.”

                “I don’ care. Take off yer pants. I’ma…I’ma gon fuck you.” He laughed maniacally before being cut off by another burp.

                “Osomatsu, it’s not even eleven yet.”

                “You’re not my calendar. Get out yer butthole. Bring it to me.” Osomatsu pinched his lips together as another burp rolled up his throat. His cheeks ballooned, and then he gave a meaty swallow. With a gasp for air, he said, “Y’know what? I’ma take a li’l…just a li’l nappy-poo. You—whoever his ass—go ‘head and suck my dog, an’ then wake me up right before I cum…’kay? ‘Cause I wanna be awake for. Um. …Okay.” Osomatsu proceeded to do exactly as he said, instantly snoring like a dad.

                Karamatsu took a moment to process the past two minutes. With a sigh, he flipped Osomatsu like a turd baking on a hot sidewalk, then set to freeing his piss-laminated dick from his cold jeans.