Stepbrother's Pulsing Glory Hole Craving

I’ve never told anyone this, not even my closest buddies at college, but my stepbrother Jordan has been the star of every filthy fantasy I’ve jerked off to since I was eighteen. I’m Alex, nineteen now, a skinny freshman with a tight little body that’s all lean muscle from soccer, but it’s my hole—pulsing, needy, always craving—that betrays me. Jordan’s twenty-two, a total gym rat beast with shoulders like fucking mountains, abs carved from stone, and thighs that could crush a watermelon. We became stepbros four years ago when our parents married, and yeah, we’re not blood, but that hasn’t stopped the tension from boiling over in my mind.

It started as a dumb joke back in high school. We were horny teens messing around in the backyard, high on summer boredom, and Jordan dared me to cut a hole in the old wooden fence separating our yard from the empty lot next door. “Glory hole, bro,” he laughed, his voice deep even then, flexing his budding biceps as he sawed the wood. We never used it—for real, anyway—but I’d peek through sometimes, imagining his massive cock sliding through. Then college scattered us. I went away, he joined some elite gym program, but last week, he moved back home after a falling out with his roommate. Shirtless workouts in the backyard every morning, sweat glistening on his tanned skin, those gray sweatpants hugging his thick bulge like a second skin. He’d catch me staring from the kitchen window, smirking with those piercing blue eyes, lingering just a second too long before turning away. My hole would clench, pulsing with need, fantasies of him owning me flooding my brain until I had to lock myself in the bathroom and finger myself raw.

God, it was unbearable. Every flex of his pecs, every grunt as he did push-ups, made my ass ache. I needed him. Craved his stepbro cock stretching me open.

One afternoon, I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed a trowel from the shed—pure excuse—and “accidentally” dropped it right by the glory hole in the fence. Bent over to pick it up, ass high in my tight running shorts, no underwear, knowing he was out there pumping iron. “Shit,” I muttered loud enough for him to hear.

Jordan’s shadow fell over the fence. “Need help, little bro?” His voice was gravelly, teasing, and I heard the rustle of fabric. I glanced through the hole—fuck, there it was, his hand palming the massive outline in his sweats, thickening already.

“Just dropped something,” I said, voice shaky, staying bent over. My hole twitched visibly under the thin fabric, begging.

He chuckled low. “Looks like you’re dropping more than that. Been staring at me all week, Alex. That tight ass of yours pulsing every time I lift. You want this?” His fingers traced the fence, and I swear I saw his cock jump, straining the waistband. Pre-cum darkened the gray cotton.

I swallowed hard, heart pounding. “Maybe. What if I do, stepbro?”

“Then beg for it through the hole tonight. Nine sharp. No faces, just cock and hole. You game?”

“Fuck yes,” I whispered, my own dick leaking into my shorts. “I’ll beg for your load.”

He groaned, stroking himself openly now, the bulge swelling to obscene size. “Good boy. Wear that jock. Lube up. I’m gonna wreck you anonymously... for now.”

The rest of the day dragged, my mind a haze of dirty anticipation. Dinner with our parents was torture—Jordan across the table, foot nudging mine under it, his smirk promising ruin. Nine o’clock hit, and I was in the backyard, stripped to my jockstrap, the white straps framing my smooth cheeks. Lube slicked my hole, two fingers already knuckle-deep, stretching myself while I knelt by the fence. The night air was cool, crickets chirping, but all I heard was my pulse thundering.

“Please, Jordan,” I begged into the hole, voice desperate. “Stepbro, I need your massive cock. My hole’s pulsing for you. Feed it through. Pound me.”

A deep rumble from the other side. “That’s it, slutty little bro. Beg louder.”

“Please, Jordan—fuck, I need it so bad,” I moaned, pushing my face closer to the rough wood, fingers still buried in my slick hole and spreading it wide for him. “My ass is throbbing, stepbro. Shove that thick cock through and own me. Wreck this pulsing hole like you promised.”

The fence creaked as something heavy settled against the other side. Then the fat, veiny head of his cock punched through the hole—dark, swollen, already shiny with pre-cum. It was even bigger up close than I’d dreamed, the flared crown stretching the wood as he fed more inches through. I lunged forward on my knees, tongue out, and licked a broad stripe over the leaking tip. Salty-sweet musk exploded on my tongue. Jordan groaned deep, hips jerking, shoving another three inches out so I could wrap my lips around him.

I sucked hard, bobbing and drooling, taking him as deep as the fence allowed while my free hand jerked the jock pouch holding my own dripping cock. “Fuck yes, little bro—swallow that dick,” he growled. “Get it wet for your hungry hole.” I slobbered all over him, lips stretched tight, until spit ran down my chin and onto my smooth chest. When I pulled off with a wet pop, a thick strand of spit connected my mouth to his slit.

“Turn around and present,” he ordered, voice raw. I spun on the grass, ass up, jock straps framing my cheeks, and reached back to pull them apart. My lubed hole winked and clenched right in front of the glory hole. Jordan’s big hands came through—thick fingers first, two of them plunging straight into me without warning. I cried out in pure relief as he scissored me open, rubbing my prostate until my cock jerked and spat a rope of pre-cum into the grass.

“Ready for the real thing?” he asked, withdrawing his fingers. The blunt head of his cock pressed against my rim, hot and insistent. I shoved back, and the head popped inside with a filthy stretch that stole my breath. Inch after thick inch forced its way in, the fence board scraping my cheeks as he bottomed out, balls heavy against the wood. I was stuffed full, hole stretched white around his shaft, every pulse of his cock vibrating through my guts.

“Oh fuck—yes, pound me,” I begged, rocking my hips. Jordan didn’t hold back. He gripped the fence for leverage and started slamming, hips snapping hard, cock jackhammering my prostate on every thrust. The wet slap of skin on wood filled the night. My jock pouch bounced wildly, cock leaking steadily. He fucked me like a machine, deep and relentless, the glory hole making it filthy and anonymous even though we both knew exactly who was wrecking whom.

“Take it, slutty stepbro,” he snarled. “Your tight little hole was made for this cock. Feel how it owns you.” I pushed back to meet every stroke, moaning brokenly, the stretch and burn melting into pure ecstasy. Sweat slicked my back. He reached through again, one hand cracking across my ass cheek hard enough to sting, then grabbing the jock straps and yanking me tighter onto his dick.

I came first without touching myself—hole clamping down in rhythmic spasms as thick ropes shot across the grass and up my stomach. Jordan cursed, fucking me through it even harder, chasing his own release. “Gonna fill you,” he warned. Three more brutal thrusts and he buried himself to the hilt, cock swelling and pulsing as hot cum flooded my guts in heavy spurts. I felt every jet, hole fluttering around him, milking him dry while I whimpered in blissed-out submission.

He stayed locked inside me for long seconds, both of us panting. Slowly he pulled out; his spent cock slipped free with a wet sound and a gush of his load dripping down my thighs. I stayed on all fours, hole gaping and leaking, still pulsing with aftershocks.

Jordan’s voice came softer through the fence. “Come around. No more wood between us.” I stood on shaky legs, wiped my mouth, and walked the short path around the fence end. He stood there in the moonlight, sweatpants shoved down, massive chest heaving, that spent cock still half-hard and shining. At twenty-two he looked every inch the gym beast I’d craved. I went straight into his arms. He kissed me deep and filthy, tasting himself on my tongue, hands cupping my bare ass and fingering his cum back into me.

“Next time we skip the fence,” he murmured against my lips. “But damn, that craving of yours? I’m keeping it fed whenever you want.” I nodded, already feeling my hole twitch again at the promise, and let him walk me back toward the house with his arm heavy and possessive around my shoulders, both of us marked and satisfied under the quiet stars.