My Step-Bro Spots Me at the Gym

Note: Consider subscribing to my Patreon for early access. Your support would mean a lot <3

The garage was a furnace, the kind that melts shirts to skin. We'd been at it for over an hour—bench, curls, squats. My stepbrother Chase, 25, was drenched in sweat and showing off in those old, loose gym shorts that he never wore underwear under.

I was laying on the bench, finishing a brutal final set.

“Spot me, bro?” I huffed, already pressing the bar off the rack.

He came over from the corner, bottle in one hand, grin on his face. My 25-year-old stepbrother—tall, jock-built, shirtless, drenched in sweat, and rocking those damn loose gym shorts again. No compression gear. No underwear. Just cotton clinging to his thighs and everything underneath swinging wild.

Chase stepped over me like always—straddling the bench, standing tall right over my head. From this angle, his bare thighs and shorts hovered inches from my face. I pushed through two reps before I noticed the shift.

The edge of his shorts grazed my cheek as he adjusted his footing.

That’s when I saw it.

Through the loose leg hole: skin. Not just skin. Balls. Bare. Hanging low, swinging with every little motion he made. No underwear, nothing holding anything in place. I nearly dropped the bar.

“Bro…” I muttered, trying not to laugh, “I can literally see your balls.”

Chase looked down between his legs at me. “Yeah?” he smirked. “Don’t stare too hard.”

And instead of moving away, he lowered himself—a slow, steady squat until his ass hovered over my chest.

His balls rested on me. Right on my upper chest, warm and slightly damp from sweat. I froze. Then he rocked a little. The swing of them tapped up under my chin. I felt a twitch in my shorts.

“You’re just gonna…?” I whispered.

He smirked again, still squatting. “You’re not telling me to stop.”

I wasn’t. Fuck, I couldn’t.

He lingered, letting his balls teabag the slope of my throat, nudging the underside of my jaw. I could feel his cock swing, lightly tapping against my chin—heavy and half-hard.

Then, just as slowly, he stood back up, like nothing happened.

“Weight’s still up, dude,” he said casually, like he hadn’t just slapped his nuts on my chest.

I racked the bar with a shaky breath.

Before I could sit up, he straddled the bench again—this time facing me—and sat down, right over my ribs. His thick thighs pinned me, his shorts now bunched up high. I could feel the heat of him through the thin cotton.

“You liked that a little too much, huh?” he said, smirk curling.

I didn’t answer.

Chase reached into his shorts, pulled his cock free—thick, flushed, hanging heavy just above my face. He nudged it down, letting it rest across my lips.

“Open up, Troy,” he whispered.

And I did.

The taste hit instantly—sweat, salt, skin. I wrapped my lips around the head, tongue circling under the crown. He let out a low groan, hips twitching forward as more slid in.

“Fuck,” he growled, “you’re good at this.”

His fingers found my hair as I sucked deeper, letting his cock fill my mouth. He started moving—slow strokes, pulling out to the tip then pushing back in, a little deeper each time. My hands gripped his thighs as he rocked, letting his balls brush my chin with every thrust.

“Taking it like a champ, baby bro,” he muttered, breath sharp.

I moaned around him, tongue working every inch, cheeks hollowing as I got more confident.

His pace quickened, breaths rough.

“Gonna blow—fuck—don’t stop,” he warned.

And then, with one deep thrust, he came.

Hot jets filled my mouth, coating my tongue, and when I pulled back—panting—his last spurts hit my lips, my cheek, the bridge of my nose. Warm and messy.

Chase let out a satisfied groan, then stood, tucking himself back in.

“You earned that protein shot,” he grinned, walking off to grab his towel.

I lay there, breathless, cum streaked across my face, cock rock hard in my shorts.

For early access to upcoming chapters, bonus scenes, and exclusive stories, you can subscribe to my Patreon.