Mommy Therapist: Family Counseling

"Are you taking something off?" he asked.

"I guess," I said. "It feels a little bit silly. We only just got dressed."

I unbuttoned my shirt. It felt like it took ages with three pairs of eyes staring at me.

Oh, yes, Lily was still very much engaged. Especially after our mother's latest addition to the ruleset. She sat against one arm of the loveseat with her legs stretched out across both cushions, her toes just barely able to tickle the other arm. She stared at her twin brothers on the floor, seated holding hands, and was visibly thrilled at our gradually intensifying circumstances.

"Eye contact, Jake. Final warning."

Shit. I looked away from Lily, back at Bryce. For good this time.

"Right," I said, steeling my gaze. "Okay bro. You ready for this?"

"Is ... that your question?"

"No, no," I squinted. It was like he was flirting with me. I squeezed his hands. He squeezed back. "Here is my question. I hope you're ready."

"I was born ready."

"When we were sitting on the sofa earlier, why did you put my hand in your lap?"

Lily snorted. Mom remained quiet. Mom had noticed the touching, of course. Nothing that happened in her office could be "news" to her. She saw all.

I stared at Bryce defiantly.

"Easy one," Bryce didn't even blink. He stripped off his shirt, threw it behind him. "Because I wanted your hand to feel how hard my cock was."

"Whoa," I said simply. Bryce grabbed my hands again.

"My turn! Jake, did you like how hard my cock was?"

"Yeah, I did," I said suddenly, like way too suddenly, holy shit.

Again, a snort from the sofa. A fit of them in fact.

I had come barefoot in pants, underwear, and a button-down to this session, so next went the pants. I had to sort of roll onto my back to peel them off, making keeping eye contact tricky but, amusingly enough, not impossible. Bryce smirked back at me as he helped tug the pants off my feet.

"Right on," Bryce said proudly, and nodded his approval as he clasped my hands and helped me sit back up. I came back up a little too quick and experienced a very salient blast of ecstasy. I might have even blushed. "Your turn, you horny little slut."

"Okay," I laughed, probably visibly shocked at how much I liked Bryce talking to me like that. But I had a good one for him. "Have you ever masturbated while thinking about our sister naked?"

"Oh of course," he guffawed. "Have I ever! Do you want details?"

A throw pillow flew in from out of nowhere and smacked Bryce in the face. From behind it came another noise, too, this one not quite a snort.

Bryce raised up off his butt, tugged his shorts down, then slid them off his feet. He stared at me intently as he did this. He knew I wanted to look down. Somehow, I didn't.

"Jake," he nodded slyly. We each sat now in nothing but our briefs, facing each other, holding hands. There was a palpable horniness to the sweat between our palms.

"Bryce," I responded.

"Are you excited to show me your beautiful cock?"

"I am," I professed.

This sent Bryce into bashful hysterics. I really, really wanted to suck his still-hidden cock.

I got up on my knees this time and made a little show of slowly and sensuously pulling down my briefs. I wasn't exactly sure how to make this appealing, but I think that only added to the entertainment factor. When my cock sprang free of the elastic waistband, even Mom laughed. (Had she had lemonade, too?) And so out, now, was my cock. I sat back down, bare ass on the floor. I kept staring at Bryce. Bryce kept staring at me. His eyes darted down every now and then, but Mom didn't call foul. When he looked back up, the effect of what he'd seen was visible in his gaze.

With respect to Lily, I was acutely aware that this was distinctly different from earlier. When she had seen us step naked out of the bathroom, I hadn't been fully engorged, and she hadn't simply sat and stared at either of our cocks like I was fairly confident she was doing to me now.

"You going to ask me something or what?" Bryce asked, bringing me to. He rubbed his thumb on the back of my hand.

"Uh, yes," I said. I was so fucking horny. Fuck. I squeezed his hands again. "May I please suck your cock?"

And just like that, I had asked my brother, straight-up, if I could suck his cock.

I heard Lily gasp, stifle a laugh, instead emitting a sort of hiccup. The couch cushions jostled.

Mom made a small noise of intellectual approval, too, as though letting her clients know she was intrigued by this avenue of discussion and wished for us to go on.

"Sure," Bryce grinned, then looked down at his monstrously hard cock inside his briefs, "if you can fit me in that wimpy little mouth of yours."

A little cheesy, but yeah. Fuck. Oh man.

He sat up on his knees and tugged his briefs down without any pomp or circumstance. I rolled forward onto my elbows, haphazardly keeping eye contact with him as I gazed up from beneath his cock. I grabbed it, just like that. I squeezed it. It was bone-hard and bright red. It was terrific.

And for fuck's sake, I finally sucked my brother's cock. Did you have to skip all that other shit to get to this part? I would have, too, reader. My brother's cock was exactly what I'd always wanted it to be. It was essentially my cock, sure, but so much fatter, and stronger, and shaved? Come on. What a treat.

It actually kind of tasted like nothing. But the smooth soft skin, the veiny terrain of his shaft, and the coarse granular plane of stubble in my fist as I pumped the base of his cock (that by no means was making it all the way into my throat), all of these textures had a kind of flavor, you know? Kit-Kats don't taste the same if you leave them out for a day. Texture is flavor. My brother's cock was perfectly crisp, freshly unwrapped, my new very favorite junk food.

I kept my eyes locked on his the best I could as I gripped the base of his shaft and endeavored to shove as much of him as I could into my throat. Turns out pornstars make this look significantly less impossible than it really is; because I mean, wow, fuck deep throating. Granted, yes, this frustrated me. I really, really wanted my brother all the way down my throat. Like, I wanted that to feel great for me. But instead, it hurt like shit.

I gagged, and then I gagged. And then I found myself dangerously near to vomiting. His cock was too big around, my throat too small. My wimpy little mouth was positively not having it.

Bryce, meanwhile, was staring down at me, half-squinting, puffing through his nose, his smile frozen in irreal lust as he held eye contact with me. I guess what he saw looking back at him must have been pretty neat: his own face, more or less, thirstily sucking at his fat cock, gagging on it, groaning in moany, happy disappointment, but then trying again.

I pulled him out of my throat, gagged, and mumbled another apology. I held him in my fist, jerking him off, and spit on his cock. I had plenty of saliva, too much even, to spare. His cock was happier for it; things had been getting a little sticky.

I looked at my brother's face to see how he was processing the fact that I was using my spit for lube. He wasn't processing it so much as getting very close to cumming with it.

With my other hand, I held myself up and massaged my throat, coaxing it back into a relaxed state. I gave him a kind of an embarrassed look. Sorry, my wimpy little throat needed a sec.

"It's okay, it's okay, it's okay," he said, eager for me to continue doing whatever. "Jake!" He laughed, near to orgasm. "You're doing so good! You're sucking my cock!"

Yeah, I was doing good! I lifted up his cock and licked his scrotum, French kissed it like the lover that it was. Why not, you know? I sucked his soft stretchy scrotum skin. I liked it. I pulled a nut into my mouth just to see if I could. Turns out I could. I kept pumping him with my hand while I played with the shifty squirmy round thing in my mouth.

I had had to break eye contact, I realized a moment later, as I savored the soft stubbly salt of his nutsack, but Mom hadn't seemed to mind. I craned my neck and peered up at him. I popped his nut back out of my lips so that he could watch. I lapped at his inner thigh. I licked up the length of his cock. I suckled somewhat noisily at his tip. I watched him watch me do these things for him.

"Jake," he gasped, and then gasped again, "q-quick question."

"Mhm," I replied. I wrapped my mouth again around the fat head of his cock and tried to get a good seal. I tongued wildly at him inside my mouth. More saltiness here, the warm silly liquid of his precum slipping cutely all over me. I kissed it up off his pee hole, sort of pulling a noodle of it out of his urethra and onto my lips. I slurped this up. I tasted the salty nothing of it, swallowed it, and then licked the pee hole clean again while smiling like the devil up at my brother.

"Can I—" he seized up for a second, body trembling. I could feel his balls tighten, "—can I cum now? Like in your—do you—can I—?"

I popped him out of my mouth again. I ducked down so I could give him the longest, lovingest lick I knew how, from the back of his perfect scrotum, along his perineum, up his long trembling spit-soaked shaft, to the once-again-precum-drooling head of his cock. I swallowed him whole, as deep as I could, maybe half of him. I gagged again. Then I batted my eyelashes at him.

"C-can I?!" he asked urgently.

"You had probably better," Mom told him.

Thank you, Mom. I got the best goddamn seal going, and sucked hard as I jerked my brother's cock into my mouth, the super-fast, blurry-fisted way I always did when I was about to make myself cum.

He hadn't started ejaculating, but I felt the first orgasmic tremor surge through him. His knees twitched, his thighs flexed, and he grasped the back of my head for support. He wheezed epiphanically. And I milked him, baby. I moaned on his cock. I was so fucking proud. I lavished his cock with my tongue. I moaned his name over and over onto his cock, even though it only sounded like mmrlmmnn each time. I sucked, relaxed, sucked, relaxed, sucked on his cock. I was ready to literally vacuum the cum out of him if it wasn't willing to come peacefully.

But at last, that first glorious spurt blasted the back of my mouth, like a congratulatory slap on the back: good job, Bro, you successfully sucked your first cock to completion. I moaned high-pitched with delight, almost entirely by accident. Then the next spurt came. I kept moaning. And the next spurt. Wait, okay, wait now. Wow. This was a lot, Bryce, I think my next moans tried to inform him. As if he could do anything about it.

His squinted gaze was a neon beam of bliss. Another squirt, less forceful but still voluminous, tumbled out of his cock onto my tongue. My cheeks were full. He was making a stuttering, semi-involuntary sort of tsh-tsh-tsh noise through his pursed lips. Still more cum was falling out of him.

Sadly, I had to pull him out. I was running out of room for both his cock and his cum.

Finally able to close my mouth and breathe through my nose, I could finally taste. My brother's fresh cum was lemony, deeply salty, and oddly sweet, like artificial sweetener. It was good. I began to swallow it.

And fuck me, I couldn't.

Have you ever taken a shot, reader? Like of liquor? You know how it's actually kind of a surprising amount of liquid if you throw it back all at once, and how it can hurt to swallow if you don't get your throat all the way around it on the first try? Well, this was that same amount of liquid, but the consistency of runny snot; that is, much, much more ridiculous to try to swallow.

My brother's cum seemed not to understand the one house rule my throat humbly asked that all guests abide: when I swallow, you go down. I'd swallow at Bryce's cum, and maybe a tiny bit would slip through into my belly, but the rest would stay stubbornly in my throat, unbudging, to say nothing of the heavy salty mouthful still waiting on my tongue.

"Sh-show me," Bryce muttered, and tapped a finger on my cheek. I craned my chin up and opened my mouth carefully so as not to spill. I was glad for a break from attempting to swallow the bucket he had just poured into me. I showed him proudly what he'd done.

Then I heard shuffling, and suddenly my sister was peering down into my open, cum-filled mouth, too. I wasn't the least bit embarrassed. Fuck, I was so proud.

Lily shook her head, not in disapproval, but in amazement. She patted me. She wiped a little bit of what I assume was runaway cum off my cheek. Aww. And then she waved bye, stepped back, and disappeared from view. I heard her get back onto the couch.

I was still locked onto Bryce's gaze. He gawked, mystified, down into my cummy maw like it was a magical pensieve. Then he gazed with ancient, evolutionary admiration into my tear-damp, bloodshot eyes. He tucked his finger under my chin and closed my mouth for me.

"Swallow," he smiled. I swallowed. It ... still didn't work.

But I swallowed again. A whole bunch of it squelched down on the third or fourth attempt, took its sweet fucking time, and for a second made me feel like I couldn't breathe and might actually need CPR, but it did somehow eventually make its way down.

Once it was all gone, I behaved like I always saw in porn and opened my empty, cum-slick mouth to show him what a good girl I'd been.

"Jake!" was all Bryce could say.

I was moaning without realizing I was moaning. Cooing, I guess. He was caressing my head, running his fingers through my hair, lovingly massaging the human head at his cock.

I gave him a simple look of love, then grabbed his cock again, gently this time, and sipped the last little bit of cum oozing out of him into my mouth and swallowed it.

"Yum," I smiled.

I licked his cummy head, wrapped my lips carefully around the whole sensitive helm, and then gradually pulled him back out as I squeegeed off the residue. He exhaled shakily, almost painfully. I swallowed. I smacked my lips unself-consciously.

"Alright," Mom clapped. "Terrific work, boys. That concludes the first exercise."

Chapter 7

Bryce helped me stand back up. I was a little woozy, not just from the exertion, not just from the drugs. I had fallen utterly and painfully in love with my brother.

We stood there face to face, cock to cock, just kind of getting ready to break eye contact before actually breaking eye contact. My raging hard erection pointed up at his rock-hard abs. His red, spit-soaked cock was slowly, happily deflating.

I admit I'd half expected us to kiss. But we didn't. I was ready to, but I guess he wasn't. I didn't take it personally. In fact, I understood. I got a little stand-offish right after I came, too.

But then instead he hugged me. Once again, my achingly hard cock got forced up against a family member's tummy. Bryce pulled me in tight. He grabbed two handfuls of my ass. He squeezed me lustily, sort of humped me into him. I liked this. He sort of made me feel like a girl? I fucking loved it. I felt hot. And good at head.

Then he gave me a hearty pat-pat on the back and we separated.

"Well Jake," Mom sighed proudly. "I feel like this session's off to a good start. How about you?"

"I just sucked a cock," I declared boldly.

"That you did, sweetie. Did you have fun fellating your brother?"

"I loved it. I'm ready to go again. I want more practice."

"Ah," Bryce held up a finger. "I'm going to need a minute,"

"Deepthroating is harder than it looks, isn't it?" Mom gave me a salacious smile.

Bryce made the strangest face at this.

"I just couldn't get it in there," I sighed.

"You did fine, sweetie. Come here." She stood and offered me a hug.

Gosh, this was nice. I half expected her to plunge a dagger into my stomach. But no, she just hugged me. I brought a hand up to her boob. I squeezed it through the blouse. She let me. Where was the torturer I'd been stuck alone with these past several months?

Bryce sat down naked next to Lily on the loveseat. Lily stared at his cock, unabashed, transfixed. He grinned at her. He played with it for her, flopping it around, making little noises with it. She giggled and played with herself under her dress. So then, feeling brave, Bryce reached for the hem of her skirt. She batted his hand away. He shrugged and went back to nurturing his dick.

"What's next, Jen?" Bryce asked. "I like family therapy."

"You like MDMA-assisted family counseling," Mom corrected. She lived to correct.

"I like that too," Bryce chuckled.

There was some rearranging on the loveseat as I reclaimed my spot beside Bryce. I would have loved a spot beside Lily, but I was happy here, too. I was happy everywhere. Holy hell, ecstasy, reader. Bryce offered me his hand again, and I took it. It was sweaty and hot and perfect.

"To answer your question," Mom continued, "I promise we'll do another exercise here shortly, but I also wanted us to talk about some of the things your brother brought up earlier. About our work together. How are we all feeling about everything he revealed?"

"You mean about you showing yourself to him?" Bryce grinned.

"Is that all you think it was?" Mom asked.

"I'm just going off what he told me."

Mom turned to Lily.

"Sweetheart, how are you handling everything?"

Lily tapped at her temple, then shrugged a shoulder, arched an eyebrow.

I had already sort of guessed.

"You already knew," Mom confirmed.

Lily nodded.

"Did you know that Lily knew something was going on?" she asked me.

I'd had no idea. In fact, fuck. My brain was still digesting this. But Mom had asked me a question, so my mouth just started going.

"Maybe this is why I never could quite figure out whether this was, like, an open secret, or an actual secret?" I turned and addressed my siblings. "Like, so that's why. One of you knew, one of you didn't. It was an open secret, and it wasn't."

"How does that make you feel, right here and now?" Mom asked me. She uncrossed her legs and simply stayed that way. She leaned forward, rested her elbows on her knees. This was her very-engaged-therapist pose.

"I'm not sure?"

I looked at Bryce.

"I'm a little surprised you couldn't tell something was up, man," I told him, earnestly but nonjudgmentally.

Bryce frowned, embarrassed, and squeezed my hand hard. He kept squeezing. He kept frowning.

I looked at Lily. "And Sis, I guess you knew and didn't say anything. Um." I looked at her some more. "I don't know what else to say about that."

Lily was smiling at me, maybe too high for this kind of thing right now. I doubt any of us could cry right now, even if we needed to. But even sober, we kind of never cried. Well, I did when Mom slapped it out of me.

"But," I went on. "I guess I need you to know you could have said something to me and it would have been appreciated. Anything. Just to let me know you knew. I would have—I could have just really—"

Well, huh. This felt strange. I felt as happy as I could possibly be, happier even, but I was also looking through a window in my brain to a time and place in which I was not happy. Again, not crying, I don't think. But let's look through the window now.

This was the indoor jungle at our zoo on a day when I was maybe eight or nine. Here I was suddenly struck by how dour and prison-like the big hangarlike space of the indoor jungle had been, how poorly maintained and badly painted the imaginary flora on the concrete walls had looked, how tiny and cramped and unkind each little animal exhibit had felt. And yet, note, I was a child at the zoo, having a joyous experience. It had been a beautiful, sunny, broiling hot day.