Surfing Bros

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This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.

Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.

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The waves were perfect off the beach with a popular resort that visitors from London in particular liked to frequent on summer weekends, though Clay and Butch were stallions in residence at the Cornish town. Working there summers and winters, though summers, to be fair, were very often busier than the slower, more relaxed winters, they boasted the benefit of one there, where they’d moved, knowing that they were related. Clay’s dark bay, almost black, coat was told as bay only by his mealy, brown muzzle and softer, brown points, while Butch was a pure black with a stark, white stripe on his face, cutting down with a sharp deviation towards his right nostril at the end. A touch of pink softened his nose, though anyone that knew him would have guessed that he was the more in charge one of the duo.

Summers may have been a busy time but the surfing brothers still found time for one another out in the surf when the sun was going down, sitting on their boards, relaxing while they waited for another swell to come through. They would only paddle to catch the best waves, after all, and the rest of the time would be spent out there, shooting the breeze, tails fanning out in the istanbul travesti water where they perched on their boards. Their weight forced the fibreglass under the water, though still allowed them to be buoyant enough to sit, Clay leaning back on his paws, snorting softly.

What someone would not have seen on first glance, however, was Butch’s paw around his brother’s cock, stroking and teasing lightly, a hard rod of dark-skinned stallion-flesh protruding from the bottom of his surf trunks. They were a popular brand, but any pre-cum that spilt down to mark their dark shading would float away in but a moment, as quickly forgotten as it had been spent. Clay grunted, shaking his head, his half-wet mane trying to still cling damply to the side of his neck, quivering in place.

“Unff… Fuck, Butch…”

Butch smirked.

“You always were such a slut, little bro.”

Clay shuddered, his cock throbbing, drooling a little more pre-cum in direct response to that. Why did he get off so much on being called a slut? It was as if his entire body had turned to jelly, shivering and trembling, his hide twitching over muscle, need coursing through with very beat of his heart pumping blood heatedly around his body. The cool of the summer evening and the water, shore not all that far away and the ragged cliffs too, was not enough to simmer down the heat in his body as his brother took control, so very easily dominating him.

As he always did. Butch had always been in control.

The stallion nickered throatily as his brother controlled him, stroking his cock, making him istanbul travestileri throb and nicker all the more wantonly. A pawjob like that should not feel as good as it did, the stallion’s fingers folding expertly around his thick length, sometimes sliding over his medial ring and sometimes not. It was all under Butch’s control and up to him to decide, always.

“I think a needy cunt like you really fucking needs to cum, hm?”

Butch rarely minced words and he didn’t hold back then either as Clay nodded, heat rushing to his cheeks and neck as he moaned. The bulge in Butch’s trunks too could not be ignored, but he had not been ordered to please him, his entire body on the edge of need that could not be held back. That was why he had Butch there to control him, to take charge and dominate him, all as he lusted and loved for each and every day of his life.

“Unff… Ohhh… Fuck yes… Please…”

“Please, what, cum-whore?”

Clay trembled, whinnying shortly, the high-pitched sound cutting over the waves, water sloshing around his thighs and crotch.

“Mmmph… I wanna cum, bro… Please… Please, let me cum.”

He had to beg, though his whimpering rarely got him anywhere. He had to try, hips rocking, tilting his board, though he could not care, could not find it at all in him in the moment to worry about something as trivial as that. Grunts rose from his lips again and again and he twisted back and forth, though obediently stayed where he was, a hiss rising from his brother’s lips.

“Yeah… Yeah, you just want to cum, such a needy whore… travesti istanbul Always cum, only one thing on your mind. You’d do anything to get hard, to get a load down your throat, painting your face with seed.”

Clay moaned. Oh, that was too much, his cock throbbing, teasing tantalisingly on the edge as if he was going to pass the point of no return — yet his brother was too careful for that. Despite his harsh words, he was a stallion who knew exactly what it was that his brother wanted and needed, backing off, keeping him there, pumping his cock on that delirious edge of orgasm. It would have been so easy to merely get Clay off, pre-cum trickling, dollop after dollop, down the length of his heady shaft.

There were far more alluring pleasures to be had out in the surf, the swells forgotten, needs rising. As much as Clay whimpered and begged, his brother would not let him hit that high, passion rising, falling, up and down, just like the ebb and flow of the tides.

Yet the tides were not under their own control and, in the same vein and flow of water, neither was Clay. Neither did he want to be as his cock remained ramrod hard, throbbing, aching, nuts churning, his brother leaving him there, trembling with arousal.

“Not today, slut.” Butch taunted him, tugging his surf trunks out of the way to expose and free his hard erection, a dark-skinned shaft with a bulging flare at the head, marked already with fresh pre-cum. “Now… Suck it all down.”

Even with his cock still hard and so very wanton, Clay knew that he could only obey. And it made his heart pound all the more.

He’d do anything for his brother. Even forgo his own climax, left hornier and needier than ever, the swell of waves forgotten as they bobbed in the surf, one hard length finding an equally wanton, slutty muzzle.

It was where Clay belonged.

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