The Masked Man I Fucked Was My Brother! : Brother Fuckers 2

by Kimmy Welsh

Book Cover: The Masked Man I Fucked Was My Brother! : Brother Fuckers 2
Part of the Brother Fuckers series:

I find myself in the arms of a big, delicious looking Frankenstein at the Halloween Ball and in my sexy witches outfit and make-up I feel a sense of naughtiness like no other.  I can be anyone tonight.

I take my stud to a secluded spot so I can fill my mouth with his cock, getting him so hot and bothered that his face-paint starts to run in the process, revealing him to be none other than my brother Dylan!

He doesn’t recognize me and against my better judgment I take things even further, planting him deep in my pussy and begging for his cum.  It’s so naughty that I’m taking this night to the grave with me!


I opened wide, planting my lips over him completely and trying not to smile as I heard the satisfied groan escape him above me.  Now he really did sound like Frankenstein.

I pushed him to the back of my throat and washed my tongue over him, coating his thickness with my saliva.  My neck worked over him and you could hear the clacking of my throat around the crown at the tip.  I sucked off him with a gasp, breathing through the spit that flooded my mouth and beating my fist fiercely over his freshly wet cock.

“Fuck yes,” he groaned, looking down into my eyes.

I smiled in a grin, knowing full-well that I could give a pretty mean blowjob if I put my mind to it.  Frankenstein definitely deserved the best.


I slid back over him, keeping my lips tight around him and following my mouth with an equally tight fist that gripped him close.  I twisted my hand over him, winding up to the bulbous crown before planting him back inside my mouth and pushing him into my throat.

“You’re incredible,” he moaned, leaning his head back to the heavens.  I half expected him to let out a howl at the moon, but instead he staggered back against the fence.

His breath raced and I found myself worrying that he might bolt there and then.  He held my head with both his hands and started to grind his lips into me, fucking my face now as I kept my mouth open wide for him.

He passed himself through the opening and I felt like the sinful little slut that I’d hoped to be when we set out for the night.  Fucking outside beneath the stars on a warm night like that gave me a special kind of feeling, especially with a guy as handsome as the one I’d snared.

I moved back up his body and he kept his head arced back as he took several racing breaths.  My hand worked back and forth along him and I kissed his neck.  It was slightly damp with sweat and I noticed some of the paint had started to run.

When he looked down at me I could see the dapples of sweat on his skin and the make-up had begun to smear away, bleeding downwards off his face to create an even scarier look.

If anything I found him even sexier than before, all worked up like that, but as I moved in to kiss him I noticed something unmistakably familiar about him.

Our lips entwined again and I jerked over his cock, my mind abuzz with thoughts.  I tried to recall the face I’d seen in the dim half-light of the moon.  Suddenly my hand stopped and I pulled back off him to look again.

The pieces started to fit together.  His height.  His build.  His eyes.  I stared into him with horror, shaking my head and biting at my lip nervously.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, and when he spoke I realized it had been my brother Dylan this whole time.


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