Cuckolding my brother

The knock was soft. Prachi was on her back between us, legs still open from the last round, skin shining. She heard it and turned her head toward the door.

“Let him in,” she said.

Rajesh crossed the room naked and opened it. My brother stood in the hallway, eyes already wet, hands hanging at his sides. He saw Prachi, saw me, saw Rajesh, and his face crumpled. He stepped inside without being told. The door shut behind him.

“Sit,” Rajesh said, pointing at the chair that faced the bed.

My brother sat. His shoulders shook. Tears ran down his cheeks and dripped onto his shirt. He didn’t wipe them away.

Prachi looked at him. “I wanted this,” she said. Her voice was steady. “I’m not sorry.”

He nodded, a small broken motion, and more tears came.

Rajesh moved back onto the bed. He pushed Prachi’s thighs wider and slid into her in one long stroke. She moaned, loud and open, and wrapped her legs around him. My brother made a wounded sound in the chair. Rajesh fucked her slowly at first, letting every wet sound carry. Prachi’s hands gripped the sheets. She turned her face toward the chair so my brother could see her expression while she was filled.

“Harder,” she said.

Rajesh gave it to her. The headboard knocked. Her breasts bounced with each thrust. I knelt beside her head and she turned, taking me into her mouth without hesitation. She sucked me while Rajesh pounded her, spit slicking her chin, eyes half-closed in pleasure. My brother’s crying got louder. He pressed a fist to his mouth but the sobs still escaped.

Rajesh pulled out. His cock shone. He tapped Prachi’s hip and she rolled onto her hands and knees, presenting herself to the camera angle and to the chair. He pushed back in. She gasped and pushed back to meet him. I moved in front of her again. She swallowed me down, gagging softly when he thrust hard enough to rock her forward, then relaxed her throat and took me deeper. Tears of effort ran from her eyes but she didn’t stop. She moaned around me every time Rajesh hit deep.

“Watch her take it,” Rajesh said to my brother.

My brother was already watching. His whole body trembled. Snot and tears mixed on his face. He didn’t look away.

Prachi came like that, clenching hard around Rajesh, the vibration of her moan running through my cock. She pulled off me to breathe, a string of spit connecting her lips to the head, and said, “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” Rajesh gripped her hips and fucked her through it. When he was close he pulled out, stroked twice, and came across her lower back and ass in thick stripes. She stayed on her knees, breathing hard, and looked over her shoulder at the mess, then at my brother.

“See?” she said softly.

I laid her on her back next. She opened her legs wide for me. I pushed into her—she was soaked, swollen, still fluttering from the last orgasm—and she cried out. Her nails dug into my shoulders. I fucked her deep and steady while Rajesh sat beside her and fed her his fingers. She sucked them clean, eyes on my brother the whole time. Every time I thrust she made a needy sound. My brother’s sobs turned raw. He hunched forward in the chair, arms wrapped around himself, crying so hard his breath hitched.

“Look at me,” Prachi told him. He lifted his head. She smiled, small and real, while I kept moving inside her. “This is better.”

I rubbed her clit with my thumb. She came again, back arching, legs shaking around my waist, moaning my name. I didn’t stop. I fucked her through the aftershocks until she was gasping and oversensitive and still asking for more. When I finally pulled out I was close. Rajesh took my place. He pushed into her used pussy and she welcomed him with a broken “yes.” I stroked myself beside them. Prachi reached for me and licked the head while Rajesh fucked her, then took me back into her mouth. She switched between sucking me and moaning every time he thrust.

Rajesh came inside her this time. He stayed buried and ground deep while she shook through another orgasm. When he pulled out, come leaked from her onto the sheets. She reached down, gathered some on her fingers, and sucked them while looking at my brother. He made a choked sound and covered his face with both hands, shoulders heaving.

We didn’t rush. I fucked her again while she lay on her side, one leg hooked over my arm, Rajesh kissing her and playing with her nipples. She was loud. Every slap of skin, every wet sound, every plea for harder or deeper carried straight to the chair. My brother cried through all of it. Sometimes the sobs were quiet and constant. Sometimes they broke into something louder when Prachi said how full she felt or when she thanked Rajesh for fucking her.

Later she got on top of me. She rode me slow at first, hands on my chest, then faster, chasing it. Rajesh stood beside the bed and she turned her head to suck him while she bounced. The chair creaked. My brother had both fists pressed to his eyes now, but he kept making those small, wrecked noises. Prachi came riding me, grinding down hard, and I followed, pulsing inside her. She stayed seated on me, catching her breath, Rajesh’s cock still resting against her lips, and glanced at the chair.

“He’s still crying,” she said, almost wonderingly.

Rajesh brushed her hair back. “Let him.”

She nodded and leaned down to kiss me. My brother stayed in the chair. He didn’t ask to leave. He just cried, quieter now, while Prachi shifted off me and let Rajesh push into her one more time from behind. She reached back and spread herself so nothing was hidden. Rajesh fucked her slow and deep. She moaned into the pillow, then turned her face so her voice stayed clear.

“I love this,” she said. “I love how you fuck me.”

My brother’s crying hitched again. He didn’t speak. He didn’t move except for the shake in his shoulders. Rajesh finished across her ass a second time. She stayed where she was, marked and open, and looked at my brother with calm, satisfied eyes.

None of us told him to stop crying. He didn’t. He sat there with tears running down his face while Prachi curled between me and Rajesh, skin sticky, breathing even, one hand idly tracing patterns on my chest. The only sounds left in the room were her soft contented sighs and the wet, endless sound of my brother crying in the chair.