My Best Friend’s Brother Dylan Was Supposed to Be Straight
Copyright© 2025 by StoriesByTroy
Chapter 2: Help Me Unpack
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 2: Help Me Unpack - When I agreed to a chill weekend at my best friend's place, I didn’t expect his older brother Dylan to be back—or to look like that. I should’ve looked away. I didn’t.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Ma Ma Teenagers Consensual Romantic Gay BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Humor Western Brother DomSub MaleDom Spanking White Male White Couple Anal Sex First Masturbation Oral Sex Safe Sex Size Nudism Slow
“Oh my god. Dylan?”
My voice cracked. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
He was standing in front of the building like he hadn’t just dropped out of my spank bank and landed in Paris. Tight blue compression tee. Black mesh shorts. Veins like warnings.
“Missed me?” he grinned. “Told you I’d book a flight.”
My jaw twitched. “Wait ... seriously?”
“Trainer gig,” he said, like it was no big deal. “Some influencer brand I’ve been working with. One of the clients is in Paris for a shoot. So...” He gestured casually to the duffel bag in his hand. “They flew me out.”
Of course they did. He looked like a goddamn protein ad.
“I figured you were here,” he added, looking up at the building behind me. “Kept posting those little OOTDs with the same door in the background. Bit obvious, boy.”
My face went warm. “uhh ... okay. Wow. So you’re staying nearby?”
He reached into a lockbox by the door, pulled out a key.
“Nope. I’m staying right here.”
“What.”
“Second floor. Airbnb.” He looked way too pleased with himself. “Figured if you were gonna act cute in front of this building every day, you probably lived here.”
“You stalked my location off an Instagram post?”
He shrugged. “One month without that mouth, Spaghetti Noodle. I had to improvise.”
I hated how fast my heart was thumping.
He slipped past me and headed up the stairs like he owned the place.
The Airbnb was cozy and empty ... bare walls, fresh linens, and that weirdly sterile smell of just-cleaned countertops.
Dylan dropped his duffel by the couch and glanced back at me. “You gonna help me unload?”
I raised an eyebrow, holding the tiniest bag I could’ve picked up. “Where do you want me to keep your stuff?”
He turned to face me fully.
“Oh, c’mon,” he smirked. “You know that’s not what I meant by unloading.”
My whole body buzzed. “You still talk like a frat boy with a dick appointment,” I muttered, stepping into the apartment.
He took the bag from my hand, dropped it without looking, then walked up and crowded me a little. “You’ve been thinking about me?” he asked, voice low, breath warm. “Because I haven’t stopped thinking about that wet little mouth of yours.”
I licked my lips, sarcastic. “You sure? Because you left me on read after telling me my throat was made for you.”
“Yeah,” he growled, “because I was busy jerking off to the memory of your throat”
“Fair enough”
He stepped even closer. “Been picturing you exactly like this. Mouth open. Knees down. Waiting.”
My knees nearly buckled. But I held my ground.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I whispered. “Maybe I forgot how good your cock even tastes.”
“Oh yeah?” He grabbed my jaw, thumb brushing my lower lip. “Wanna remind yourself?”
I dropped.
Just like that.
The mat by the couch was soft under my knees. Dylan stood in front of me, shirt already peeled off, cock swelling behind the mesh.
“Missed this part,” he muttered, palming himself through the fabric.
I looked up at him with a smirk.
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.