Family Portrait - Part 1

Everyone in this story is 18+

Hey everyone! This is the last premiere of my three main stories. I hope you enjoy it! Without giving too much away, let’s just say this story will eventually make its way to my private Reddit group. Stay tuned!

I slipped into the shed, letting the door click shut behind me. The air was stale with the smell of damp wood, weed, and grease, and Justin was right where I expected him—leaning against the workbench, a faint wisp of smoke curling from the joint in his hand.

“You’re late,” he said, not even glancing up as he flicked the joint onto the floor and ground it out with his shoe. His voice had that lazy drawl, like nothing in the world mattered.

“You’re lucky I showed up,” I shot back, tossing my jacket onto a chair.

Justin finally looked up, smirking, his dark eyes flicking over me in that way he always did. He was so easy to read—cocky, confident, and somehow managing to look hot and bored all at once. His jeans were hanging low on his hips, his black shirt rumpled and loose enough to show a sliver of the tattoos winding up his arms.

“Always such a tease,” he muttered, pushing off the bench.

“Tease? I get you off, don’t I?” I said, already reaching for my belt. We weren’t here for small talk.

Justin’s smirk widened as he nodded and undid his jeans, tugging them down just far enough to let his dick hang free. He was already half-hard, long and thin, curving slightly upward. His pubes were dark and messy, as unkempt as the rest of him, and his balls hung low between his legs. He didn’t make a move to start, just stood there watching me like he was waiting for something.

I shrugged off my hesitation, unbuttoning my jeans and pulling them down to mid-thigh. My cock was already hard, and I ran a hand over it lazily, glancing up to see Justin’s reaction. His smirk faded, replaced by that look of lazy approval I was used to.

“You first,” he said, gesturing at me with a tilt of his head.

I rolled my eyes but wrapped my hand around my dick, stroking slowly. I was average in length—six and a half inches—but I knew how to make it look good. I was completely shaved, smooth and neat, a deliberate contrast to Justin’s wild look. I tugged a little harder, my eyes dropping to the way his cock was twitching in my hand. Then he finally started stroking me as well.

The shed filled with the sound of our breathing and the slick rhythm of skin on skin. Justin’s eyes stayed locked on me, his lips parting slightly as he picked up the pace. My hand sped up to match him, the heat building steadily in my stomach. I bit my lip, watching the way his cock throbbed in his grip, the veins prominent against his pale skin.

“Fuck,” Justin groaned, his head tipping back slightly. His hand was moving faster now, his knuckles brushing against my balls with every stroke.

Then it hit me, spilling out as I felt it brewing deep in my balls—the sharp, hot climax I wanted and needed. My cock pulsed and contracted in his hand as I came, ropes of cum streaking across my stomach. Justin wasn’t far behind—he let out a low grunt, his head tilting back as his cock twitched in my hand, shooting thick streams onto the floor between us.

For a second, the air felt heavy, thick with the scent of his musk and our combined cum. The only sound was our uneven breathing. Justin grabbed a crumpled napkin from the workbench, wiping himself off lazily before glancing at me. He tore off a piece and handed it over without a word, his expression as casual as ever. I took it, cleaned up quickly, and pulled my jeans back up, already tucking the moment away in the back of my mind.

“So,” Justin said, leaning back against the bench like nothing had happened, “you think we’ll ever do more?”

I paused, zipping up my jeans. “Maybe,” I said, my tone noncommittal.

“Maybe,” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Like fuck?”

I shook my head, firm this time. “No, I don’t think so.”

Justin shrugged, the smirk returning. “Whatever, man. See you tomorrow?”

I pulled on my jacket, already heading for the door. “Maybe,” I said over my shoulder.

As I reached the door, Justin’s voice followed me. “Enjoy your perfect family.”

I stopped, turning back with a smirk and a chuckle. “Thanks, I will. And don’t smoke weed in our shed. You know the way home—it’s right over the worn fence. Bye.”

Justin laughed softly, leaning back against the table. The weed? I bought it from your brother, and, I know where my house is. Bye!” he responded.

I shook my head, rolling my eyes. “Typical Casey,” I thought as I slipped outside, the cool air hitting my skin like a reset. I tugged my jacket tighter, straightened my shirt, and headed back to the house.