My little brother and I had never been what you’d call “close.” We never really got along. That isn’t to say we hated each other- we weren’t constantly at one another’s throats or anything- we just didn't ever click. He had always been a bit of an unpopular goofball when we were in school. While I had been Devlin the jock, who scored game-winning touchdowns for the team, he had been Cyril the nerd, who stayed home playing video games or rolling dice and pretending to be a wizard in the basement with his friends. I might have given him too hard of a time for that. I always saw it as my right as an older brother to put my sibling in a headlock, give him a wedgie, or otherwise push him around in front of my friends. 

Looking back, I guess I was a bit of a bully.

It took a few years away at college to realize that. I ended up having a friend and roommate who had been the younger brother in a similar scenario to help me put that into perspective. Now that I was 22 and had matured a bit, I was pretty embarrassed about the macho bullshit I put Cyril through just to look cool. 

While I was at university I had learned some things about myself. Not only did I realize that I had been a total jerk to my brother, but after plenty of experimentation I found out that I was gay too. I was gone for four years, only coming back for brief stays during the summers or for the holidays, so I hadn’t found the right time to come out to my family. I decided the best way to apologize to Cyril and show that I had changed was to trust him enough to be the first family member that I shared that part of my life with. I didn’t expect my parents to react badly (they had always been kind and supportive), but it was still a big step for me. I had years of an old hyper-masculine persona to break free of.

After graduation, I returned home while I started getting my life together and finding a job. My brother had recently turned 19. He took a year off after working diligently through high school to sort out what he wanted to study and have some well-deserved fun. He was about to start his first year of university in the fall. My parents had a big vacation planned now that both of their cubs had grown up. They were going to be out of the city for a couple of weeks, so that gave me a chance to have an adult conversation alone with Cyril. I bought us a case of beer to split one evening while we hung out and caught up.

It amazed me how much he had changed since the last time I had spent any significant amount of time with him. He was now a slightly smaller version of me. We had the same dark gray pelt with a snowy underbelly from beneath our chin to beneath our fluffy tails. Looking at his angular snout and folded back ears would have been like looking into a mirror if I were a few inches shorter and a couple dozen pounds of muscle lighter. We both had the same icy blue eyes with pupils lined with flecks of silver. If it isn’t narcissistic to say, he at some point had become an unexpectedly stunning young wolf.

I never did summon up the courage to come out to him. Not even after a late night of heavy drinking and friendly conversation. The right moment never quite presented itself.

It was a hot summer night. Our parents didn’t have air conditioning, since where we lived there were only a handful of days in the year where it would even be warm enough to warrant turning it on. After a half dozen or so beers each, Cyril proposed that we strip down to our underwear to cool off. I was surprised at the suggestion since he had always been a bit shy about undressing in front of anyone, but he didn’t wait for my answer before pulling off his shirt. When I looked at his lithe, athletic body I wondered if the reason he wanted to strip was to have an excuse to show off his physique. When we were younger he had been on the pudgy side, but at some point he had put some serious effort into losing weight and now he had a swimmer’s body. We always trimmed our naturally plush coats short in the summer months to avoid heat exhaustion, and the way his short fur hugged his body and showed off his smooth stomach was curiously erotic to me.

After my brother removed his jeans, he lounged in only his tighty whities on the couch while he reached for another beer. His choice of underwear made him look a bit immature, but I guess some habits never change. The taut cotton hugged the contours of his sheath and balls, making an enticing bulge and leaving little to the imagination. My heart skipped a beat when I realized that I found my brother attractive. Warmth rushed to my groin and I felt my sheath throb. I guess I must have been staring because Cyril raised his eyebrows at me after an awkwardly silent moment. I stood up to undress too.

In a few seconds I was down to my white tanktop and black boxer-briefs with vibrant, sapphire blue elastic. Luckily I was able to keep my arousal in check, because there is no way my form-fitting underwear would hide it. The last thing I needed when I was working up the nerve to tell him I was gay was to have my knot trying to force its way out of my sheath. We resumed our drinking and the conversation distracted me from my unwanted sexual interest. The right time to make my admission failed to appear, and several beers later my little bro was passed out on the couch.

Inexperienced as he was with alcohol and having a slighter build than me, he had a weaker fortitude than I did and nodded off well before I was ready to. His body was illuminated by the glow of the television. The occasional flash of color tinged his white belly a multitude of colors while I stared at him in silence for a while. My sheath began to stir again and felt a familiar tingle between my legs. As taboo as it is to acknowledge, I realized pretty quickly that I found my brother hot. I tried to justify it by thinking to myself that it was just the alcohol clouding my mind and that it had been several weeks since I had slept with anyone so I just needed to bury my bone. Especially so, considering the poor choice I made next.

I inched a bit closer to him. I was seated on the floor with my back resting against the couch while he stretched out across it. He was peacefully snoozing, his silence only broken by the occasional snort as he slept. I’m not entirely sure what came over me, but as horny as I was I couldn’t help it. I hissed at him to see if he was truly asleep. When he didn’t respond, I craned my neck over his groin and thrust my muzzle as close as I dared to his crotch. I took a deep breath and inhaled a hearty whiff of his scent. It was undeniably male; heady, musky...intoxicating. The odor of his sweat and pheromones was very close to my own, but subtly different and very arousing. I instantly felt my sheath plump.

There was only a thin layer of fabric preventing me from seeing him in all his naked glory. I could tell just by looking that he had an impressive maleness. He might not be as large as my own eight-and-a-half inches when he was hard, but he was definitely close. The tip of my cock had slid from its furry confines and pressed against my underwear. I looked down and saw that a damp patch was spreading from the tent.

Why was I leaking pre just at the idea of seeing my brother naked? Most guys didn’t even turn me on that much.

“Cyril,” I whispered. I gently nudged his arm, which had draped limply off the edge of the couch, with one paw. “You awake?”

He mumbled something incomprehensible and let out a small snore.

My heart thundered in my chest. I looked down to where my rod was already pressing painfully into the pouch of my underwear. I don’t know what came over me, but I had to take a look. Just a peek, then I could sneak off to the bedroom to paw off. I wondered if I’d regret sexualizing my little brother like this in the morning, but with the amount of beer in me at that moment, my arousal won the war against my better judgement. My paw twitched as I reached for his waistband. Cyril didn’t react as I carefully hooked my claws beneath the elastic. Heat from his crotch radiated against my paw pads.

I gently pulled down the front of his underwear and hooked his waistband beneath his fuzzy sac. The sweaty cotton of his briefs clung to his thick sheath as I peeled it away. He had a hefty set of testicles that rivaled my own, and they hung loose and heavy in the warm air. To my surprise, the spade-shaped tip of his maleness had entreated an inch or so out of its sheath. With even this small bit of it that I could see, I could tell that it was a veiny, marbled crimson. I found myself kneading my own growing hardness as I stared at it while eagerly licking my lips. I was almost fully erect at that point, with my knot trying to force its way free. I lifted my butt and shimmied my boxer-briefs down my thighs before taking a risk and removing them entirely. I kicked them aside.

I grabbed my sheath, holding the aching flesh and fur between my fingers. My knot swelled just below its surface. I carefully pulled it back and gasped as I felt my knot pop free. The needy, fist-sized bulb was one of our gifts as lupines. It throbbed against my palm, pulsing in time with my heartbeat. I gave it a gentle squeeze and it erupted a spurt of pre a few inches into the air that splattered against my inner thigh. I glanced at my knot. 

I wanted to see my brother’s.

I knew that I was just pent up and horny, and my inhibitions were down from the alcohol. That I should go look at porn. But the idea of an actual cock only inches from me that I could see and smell. That I could feel...

That I could taste? I licked my lips.

Cyril seemed like he was a lightweight. He had been tipsy after only a couple of beers and discarded bottles littered the room. I guess he was still a teenager, if only barely, and he wasn’t as much of a partier as I was. With how much of a geek he had been until recently, I doubt he had done much drinking at all. Maybe he only had any that night to try to impress me. He’d probably be out cold until morning when he would wake up grumpy with a pounding headache.

As I started languidly stroking myself with one paw I tentatively brushed his sheath with the other. I got a thrill as his fur swept across my paw pads. When he didn’t react, I massaged it a bit more firmly, coaxing his red length out another inch or so. I rolled his sizable orbs around in my palm for a moment, getting my nose as close as I dared to his sweaty sac before inhaling his scent again. I returned my attention to his shaft. His erection was half full, but the tip lazily dripped a glistening trail of pre onto his flat belly. I swiped up the stray a bit of ooze with my paw and brought it to my muzzle. I hesitated for only a moment longer before thrusting my claws into my mouth and lapping his emissions away. They were salty and savory, and I enjoyed my first, covert taste of him. I wrapped my fingers around his growing arousal and gently kneaded it, letting my saliva and his pre lubricate my paw.

He hardened further until his own knot was straining for release. I mimicked what I had done to myself on him. He fidgeted restlessly as his knot burst free. My eyes widened in fear that I’d be discovered, but he merely sighed heavily and wriggled back into the cushions without even peeping an eye open. I released the breath that I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

The most difficult part was done. Now I had his sizable meat in my paw to do whatever I wanted with. 

But I had done what I wanted to. Hadn’t I? I’d taken a peek and seen what he had to offer. And stared at him long enough to burn that surprisingly sexy vision into my mind for as long as I lived. I tried to force myself to pull his underwear back into place, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. I had lost sight of the end goal.

One last thing, I told myself. Then that’s it.

I leaned in, closed my eyes, and extended my tongue. I hoped that by dragging it across the scarlet monolith I’d satiate my inexplicable fascination with my younger brother’s junk. I slowly closed the gap between us, inch my inch, until I felt the tip of my tongue touch his moist member. It was wet and slippery, with little rivers of pre trickling down it. It tasted of salt and sweat and flesh. I shuddered and unleased more sprays of pre myself. My horny scent aggressively suffused the air.

Then I heard something that made me freeze in place.

It was the electronic shutter of a cell phone camera. My eyes snapped open. I nervously glanced over at my brother’s face. He was propped up on one elbow, a superior smirk plastered across his muzzle. He held up his phone screen toward me. On it was a very clear photo of me looking enthralled as I licked along his glossy erection. 

“Well, well, well, bro. I fall asleep and you start fondling me. I hope that isn’t how you treated your roommates.”

“Cyril, I can explain-” could I?

“Dev, there is no way you can try to spin this to make yourself look innocent in all this. It looks like finally, after years of being your punching bag, I have something on you,” he declared smugly.

I wanted to tell him that I was sorry. That I realized I had been an asshole when we were growing up and wanted to make things right...but he had just caught me molesting him while he was drunk, so I felt like anything I said at that moment would come off as insincere, even though it was only a lapse in judgement on my part brought on by alcohol and hormones.

“So,” he continued threateningly, “unless you do whatever I tell you to do, whenever I tell you to do it until I leave for college, I’m going to post this picture everywhere online and tag you in it. Then everyone can see just how much you like cock.” 

I felt dizzy, and not just from the alcohol. I’d never seen a mean streak like this in my little brother. It had to be a bluff- a bluff fueled by jealousy and resentment and no small amount of booze.

“You wouldn’t,” I whispered. I didn’t have the guts to tell him I was gay earlier that night. If I was still struggling to share this with Cyril, I definitely didn’t want the rest of the world to find out about it. 

“I would. It took almost two decades, but for once I get to be in charge.”

“You’re in the photo too,” I tried to reason with him.

“Only my junk, and that could belong to any wolf. Your face, on the other paw, is pretty distinctive.” He had turned his screen back toward himself and was tapping away on it. My brother and I shared unique streaks of smoke-gray around our masks. The curls of off-tone fur gave the impression that we had always just sprinted through a rainstorm.

“What do you want?” I asked him cautiously. I wasn’t used to deferring to him. He had always toddled after me when we were cubs, and it wasn’t hard to usurp the toys or video games from him whenever I wanted to as we grew up. But we were both adults now, with me just leaving university and him about to enter it. Neither of us had much money. I guess I could score him more beer or give him recommendations on professors and classes, but I would have done that stuff anyway. I was there to mend fences.

“Why don’t we begin by having you finish what you started. Go on. My cock’s not gonna’ suck itself,” he ordered, nodding down at his still erect maleness with a self-satisfied smile on his face. I wondered if I could wrestle the phone from him. I was still bigger and stronger than he was. That was a risk I wasn’t sure I was willing to take though. He may have already sent the image somewhere to be backed up. If I gave in, and did what he wanted that night, maybe I could sit down and talk and reason with him in the morning when we were both sober. That would be a lot less likely if I was overly combative now. I did want him to know that I had changed after all. That I wasn’t the same old bully I used to be.

He grabbed the base of his sheath and wrapped a few digits beneath his scrotum. He gave his hardness a jiggle, nudging it closer to my muzzle and smacking me lightly on the snout with it.

“Well, Devlin?” He asked with an arched brow.

My arousal didn’t dissolve as the humiliation and anxiety set it. Instead it melded with it to create an air of tension that made me tremble. I exhaled slowly and then leaned forward.

It was different, knowing he was intently watching. I’d sucked off several guys while at college, but usually with some form of reciprocation. I may have realized that I was gay, but I also learned, shortly after that, that I was a top. I wasn’t used to submitting to another male without expecting at least the same in return, and I sincerely doubted that my brother was at all interested in swallowing my load when I was done.

I craned my neck to position my mouth over his length and parted my maw. His swollen cock had freshly beaded pre at the tip. Through force of habit I licked it away with a flicker of my tongue. I slid my muzzle down over his shaft and closed my lips around it. He groaned and thrust his hips upward until his penis struck the back of my throat, immediately making me gag.

“Make sure you take it deep, bro,” he laughed. “Show me how much you love my dick. You  certainly seemed to appreciate it when you thought I was sleeping.”

I briefly wondered if he had ever had a sex partner before or if I was going to be his first blow job. It was hard to imagine the nerdy brother I remembered having a girlfriend or boyfriend, but he had grown pretty handsome and self-assured recently. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had managed to work up the confidence to connect with another anthro. It had been a moment of drunk, horny weakness that led me to indulge in a taste of him initially. I hadn’t expected to actually perform oral on my brother. With the surge of anxiety over the photo, I suddenly felt very sober and less than willing to so much as touch his knot, let alone have it slap me on the chin as he buried himself in my throat.

I decided that it would be best to get it over with as soon as possible. Maybe after he came he’d get tired and nod off, and then- hopefully- in the morning he’d be as embarrassed by tonight as I was and we’d never bring this up again.

I started sucking on his flesh, using every trick I had learned behind closed doors in college. I wrapped a paw around his knot and gently kneaded it as I drew off of him until only his tip remained in my mouth. I fluttered my tongue beneath his tapered crown, whisking away his freely flowing pre. He moaned with satisfaction and sank further into the couch. I wrapped my tongue around the base of his shaft, just above his knot, and lapped upward. I rolled it against his underside, teasingly slow.

“You’re pretty good at this,” Cyril said, letting his claws tangle into the fur on the back of my head. Without warning he roughly grabbed my scruff and started humping up into my maw. I choked, but managed to control my gag reflex. “You’ve definitely done this before. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do, because you’re going to be getting a lot of practice until I’m off to school. And then there will always be holidays and Spring break and...” he growled with contentment and trailed off. 

He bucked into my muzzle for a little while longer while I worked. I could sense him tensing and saw his claws on his free paw digging into the couch cushion. If I worked just a bit more this whole embarrassing ordeal would be over. He abruptly stopped his pistoning into my mouth and wrenched my head off of his junk by yanking at the fur near my ear.

I looked at him perplexed while his smug smirk twisted into a cruel smile. Cyril placed his paw on my chest and shoved me back just far enough that he could swing his legs over me and off of the couch. He staggered drunkenly to his feet before grabbing the elastic band of his briefs. He tugged them down and off, and kicked them aside. He then spun in place, the white dipstick tip of his tail smacking me in the face as he turned around. He hoisted his tail and bent forward, and arched his back upward so he could glare over his shoulder at me. I could see the choral pucker of his ring. It was the same rosey peach shade as the skin in our inner ears and on our paw pads.

“I think that after all these years of you pushing me around, I have the perfect way to put you in your place. Go on: Eat my hole or everyone gets to see what a cock slave you are,” he threatened.

My jaw dropped. I’d never rimmed a guy before. I’d never really felt the urge to do so. One of my hookups had done it to me, and I liked it enough, but the thought of sticking my tongue there was degrading to me. I swallowed nervously and bit my bottom lip.

“Well, big brother? I’m waiting,” Cyril taunted. He reached for his phone with theatrical slowness.

“Okay! Okay,” I said with a deep breath. “Okay.” I closed my eyes as I steeled myself and leaned in.

“No! Keep ‘em open,” he commanded. “I want you to see it happen.”

I opened my eyes again and was forced to watch as my pointed muzzle drew increasingly close to his cleft. Eventually the order became moot as his fur obscured my vision. He was wagging with pleasure and his tail swiped back and forth across my eyes and ears. Finally, I felt the fur on the underside of his tail brush across my nose and I let my tongue slip out. I found the sweaty flesh of his hole. My tongue drifted lightly across it, but he pressed his ass back against me so that I got a full taste of him. I tried licking rapidly, hoping that he would be satisfied with an earnest effort and the moment would pass quickly. He shivered and uttered a throaty sound.

I traced his entrance over and over again with the tip of my tongue. Before long his tailhole was wet and slick.

“Don’t just stick to the outside. Get up in there. I want you in deep,” he urged.

I felt faint. I had never felt so debased. Maybe I deserved this for how I had treated him when we were young. I pressed my tongue against his tailhole. It slipped inside with surprising ease, and before long I had a couple inches of my long, lupine tongue slithering into him. He gasped and I thought he was going to melt. He quickly bent further forward and grabbed the armrest of the couch to steady himself. I punched my tongue in and out of him, tasting every last bit of his ring and wanting the experience to end. I could smell the aroused pheromones wafting off of him. The scent of his pre still hung intoxicatingly heavy in the air as he dribbled a viscous, glistening strand to the floor.

I was stuck sitting there for several minutes, doing nothing but lapping at his entrance. Worst of all, I stayed hard the entire time. For some reason, submitting to Cyril so thoroughly was keeping me fully erect even though I had always thought of myself as a power-top. He at last stepped away, seemingly having enough of me rimming his hole.

“Are we done?” I ventured. I realized that I had a paw wrapped around my knot and hated myself for it. I just wanted to cum and pass out and forget that dreadful night.

He turned to face me with his erection jutting proudly out before him.

“Not quite. Get on your paws and knees. I’ve got one last thing for you tonight.”.

I dropped down onto all fours while he went to retrieve his briefs. I was confused. Why was he getting his underwear if he was still intending to have me service him? He approached with his underwear wadded up in his paw.

“Open,” he directed sternly.

I opened my maw and he shoved his briefs in my mouth. He had clearly worn the same pair all day throughout the heat, since they were still moist from his sweat. They smelled and tasted strongly of him and the pheromones that had slowly but surely soaked into them. The ball of fabric between my teeth made it difficult to bite down all of the way and the cotton and elastic pressed against my tongue. 

“Don’t drop them,” he advised. There was something both sinister and definitive in the way he spoke, and I didn’t dare disobey him. He sauntered behind me and dropped to his knees, massaging the globe my ass with one paw. Suddenly he gripped the base of my tail in his fist. I unleashed a yelp, but it was muffled by the wad of underwear in my maw. He prodded at my hole with his thumb.

“I always wondered what it would be like to fuck a guy,” he commented. “Since you were having such a good time with my cock, I’m sure you won’t mind giving me a go.”

My eyes widened. I had never submitted to another male before. I tried once, but things didn’t get too far. It was an okay experience, but I vastly preferred a tight heat clamped around my length rather than the other way around. 

He continued to try to poke a finger into me, but it was too dry to enter as it was. I felt my ring give and stretch just a bit, but not nearly enough to accommodate his digit. 

He unexpectedly gave my rump a single, hard spank. The sound echoed around us.

“I guess we can still make this work,” he said ominously. I heard him spit into his palm and then twist his newly damp fingers at my entrance again. This time they slipped into me more easily, even though saliva wasn’t an ideal lube. He started with one, wiggling it in all of the way to the knuckle at its base. I squeezed around it involuntarily. He chuckled, beckoned inside of me, and withdrew it. The pad on the tip caught my prostate just right and I shot a massive spurt of pre onto the floor beneath me with a huff.

“Careful now. You don’t want to have to explain the stain on the carpet to mom,” he teased. 

When he inserted into me again to stretch me open he added a second finger wrapped around the first. He had to work a bit harder to loosen me up enough to get them fully inside. He scissored them apart to pry me open and I whimpered.

“Just like a bitch in heat,” he said. “I can already tell I'm going to love this.”

He continued to finger fuck me for a little while longer, stretching me open as much as he could. He added more saliva when necessary, but he wasn’t particularly gentle. I was glad he chose to open me up a bit rather than just trying to shove his monstrous shaft into me, though. I was already dreading taking the knot at the base. He’d been aggressive up to this point and it would be unrealistic to assume he wasn’t going to try to tie me. A few minutes of probing my depths with his paw later and later he seemed satisfied with what he had done. I felt his tip enter my cleft and line up with my hole. He spat again. His aim was good and the spit landed right where his crown pressed against my ring.

He hunched over me. His body, slightly smaller than my own, pressed against me from above. His muscles were tense and ready as he prepared to spear me on his cock. He snarled a line of hot breath across the nape of my neck. His mouth hung slightly agape. He was panting from the heat and his arousal. I couldn’t stand to turn and face him while he was about to enter me, but could see his fangs in my peripheral vision. He was so untamed in his lust that for a moment I thought he was going to clamp his teeth down on my collarbone, but if the thought crossed his mind he managed to contain himself.

He thrust forward, forcing his hips against my backside. My tailhole opened to take him and I grunted as the first few inches were shoved into me. His shaft rounded to its widest point, then became easier to get in as it narrowed again. I was intimately familiar with the shape of a wolf’s penis and knew that meant the knot would be coming soon, so I wasn’t surprised when the thick knob of flesh collided with my entrance. He groaned in satisfaction when all but that final part of him was buried inside of my ass. Warmth flooded my insides as he pumped more pre into me in his lust. I was grateful for the extra lube, since the saliva was meager at best. His chest rumbled his groan turned into an aggressive, raspy growl.

Cyril withdrew just as quickly as he entered until only the very apex of his cock remained in me, then slammed in again. He repeated this countless times, picking up speed with each successive thrust. I winced and moaned as he pistoned away. His hardness pressed against every part within me, bringing no small amount of pleasure along with the pain and embarrassment. I couldn’t believe I was submitting to this. That the haunches humping away into my heat belonged to my little brother. The rhythm of his stabbing grew ever more erratic until it scarcely had any pattern to it all. He was just wildly fucking me in a feral frenzy and lost in the moment. He wasn’t just pounding my hole, he was fucking my entire body in his mating fervor. I struggled to remain holding myself up as his whole weight thwacked against me again and again. It felt like he was scrambling my insides.

Finally, it seemed he was ready to finish breeding me. His pace slowed but his power increased. With each jerk of his hips he pressed a little bit harder. I felt his knot begin to force its way in by a quarter inch per hump. He had an ample maleness, but taking a knot for the first time made it feel even larger than it was and I experienced every excruciating moment of it. My eyes bulged and I cried out as he made an earnest effort to grind it in and hilt me. 

I whined as I stretched to my limits around his massive knot. His body heaved with his ragged breathing. When I felt I was truly at my breaking point, just when I was about to beg and plead for him to stop rutting me so hard, it popped in. I gasped as he arched his back and gyrated his hips in apparent ecstasy from tying me. He jolted and spasmed. I felt a deluge of cum flood into me. Healthy splatters of lupine spunk filled me to the brim. Despite his knot swelling to lock us together I felt some leak around the blockage and dribble down the back of my sac and inner thighs. Cyril collapsed on top of me, muscles limp. As he puffed for breath his cock occasionally jumped and twitched inside of me, spurting even more cum into the river he had already released, as it would for the next 30 to 60 minutes as he drained his heavy balls under my tail. 

My mouth was dry. His used underwear had wicked my saliva from my mouth. My face was hot from humiliation at giving in and letting him treat me the way that he did, but also from shame over my arousal which hadn’t abated. After submitting to him and letting him fill me with his seed I should only be angry and suffering...but the pressure on my prostate, the cloying scent of sex in the air, and the heat of the moment all collesced to make me undeniably horny. My erection was harder than ever, and practically thrumming with need as it hung out in the open, leaking pre.

I couldn’t help it. I lifted a paw to my cock and started to furiously stroke myself. I was already on the verge of climax and wouldn’t last long, but my brother reached beneath me. He grabbed my wrist excruciatingly tight and held it in place.

“Not only am I going to use you as I see fit until I leave, but you’re not allowed to cum. You’ll only be enjoying my spunk for the foreseeable future.”

He then pulled himself upright and reached over to grab his phone. I flinched, feeling his swollen flesh tug at my ring, unable to pull free. He held the phone up and angled the camera so his head was just out of frame, while it was clear that his knot was very much locked inside of me. 

“Now smile. We’re going to be making lots of new memories.”