Fucked Over Christmas

Luis Walker
8 min readJan 16, 2021

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There’s a kind of person who’s happy when they don’t have to go ‘home’ for the holidays. Sometimes your family was just that bad. Sometimes they weren’t that bad, really, but you just don’t fit in. And, you know, sometimes you’d like to be there, really, but getting there would be more trouble than it’s worth.

This year put me in the last category. We didn’t even have a holiday call; Mom said there was no point if she couldn’t cook for us, Uncle Ed said he shouldn’t use the computer if he was getting ‘holiday drunk’, and my grandparents were pre-Internet enough that video calls didn’t do anything for them.

I spent Christmas with 90s sitcoms and a big frozen lasagna. It was okay.

The first sign I had that I was falling asleep on the couch was the hammering on my door that jolted me awake. Landlord? I thought. Or cops? But either of them would have come inside already.

I rolled to the door and cracked it open. Five feet of hyena in a black T-shirt and jeans strained by a massive bulge; not as chubby as me but still thickset, looking down at me with eyes blue as mine: my brother.

“Buster, what the fuck, you’ll wake the whole building.”

“So answer your door faster, man! I’ve been sittin’ out here half an hour and it’s freezing out.”

I let him follow me in and shut the door. “What’re you doing here anyway? No one’s supposed to be out in all this mess.”

“I couldn’t let my little bro spend Christmas alone! Especially when I was already in town for work.”

“Since when do you have a job that takes you places?”

I spent the evening catching up with Buster. It was mostly pleasant, but he seemed to be getting more fidgety and anxious as the night went on. Eventually he reached a break in a story about the weird insurance company that’d taken him on and I had to ask him what was wrong.

“Um,” he said, looking down at the kitchen table. “Well, I did have a…different reason for coming around. I was hoping — ”

He trailed off again, biting his lip.

“Do you remember Camp Cuyahoga?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes at him. “I’m not likely to forget.”

The camp counselor had called it a ‘mysterious swelling.’

Apparently that’s what they call it when you don’t tell them that the reason you’re bloated up like a parade balloon is that you were fooling around with your overproductive brother. Our parents figured it out, though, and that was the last time we ever got to play together.

And now he was here in my kitchen offering the second round we never got another chance to take.

“Buster.”

“What? I haven’t been able to unload for a week. At least, not with anyone who can take it. I figured it’d be a nice Christmas gift for ya.”

“The gift of cum-bloated immobility?”

“See, you get me! C’mon, Buck — ”

“And then you get to go home and I have to push the cleanup on my caregiver.”

“Well — ”

“Now, I’m not saying no, I’m saying I can’t just be your Bucket anymore. Things aren’t as easy as they were when we were younger. We both have our lives going on… Well, as much as things can be going on these days.”

“You’re right, Buck, I’m sorry. I’m here till Tuesday — I can stay with you.”

Buster followed me to my bedroom, shucking off his clothes. His monstrous balls made his dick look like a tiny nub in comparison, even though it was at least ten inches and thick. He hefted that massive scrotum and set it in my lap, grinning at how it put my belly to shame.

I embraced those massive nuts, burying my face between them and inhaling my brother’s hyena musk. “Shame these were never able to pop me,” I said, thinking of all the lucky conquests he’d busted. My brother had reduced one of my college friends to scraps at least five times I knew of — he’d kept going back for more — but I’d been blursed with stretchiness and a capacity that as near as we could tell was unlimited.

“You don’t have to splatter the walls for either of us to have a good time, buddy.” He laughed and fuzzled my headfur. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t try every time though.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky this time.” I gave his balls a squeeze. “You’re gonna have to get these off me so I can get in bed.”

He pushed forward instead, grinning as his cock loomed right in front of my muzzle. “Maybe I should blimp ya up right here. See that chair fall apart under the weight of ya…”

I gave his cockhead a smooch but pushed his nuts out of my lap. “Busted people may reform, but busted machines don’t. And I kind of need this one.”

“Fine, fine.” He let me climb into bed and steered the chair out of the room before lying down beside me, his face in my chestfur and his paw roaming over my belly. “You’re so soft,” he said.

“For now, at least.”

He reached to pull my sweatpants down, exposing a much more modest set of tackle — I’d never been too big, and the weight I’d been putting on had given me a fatpad that mostly swallowed up my junk. He rubbed over the head of my cock and started stroking over as much as he could reach. “So…you want it down your throat or up your ass?”

I spluttered. “Buster!”

He smirked, rolling over to straddle me and grind his cock against mine.

“You want me to be delicate about pumping enough cum into you to keep you from passing through doors for a week?”

He leaned in, bringing his muzzle close enough to kiss me.

“Maybe you just want me to do it, and not make you think about choices?”

He pulled back, sliding his thickness between my thighs. I felt its throb and the wetness of its pre leaking against me.

“You just want your big bro to take charge, don’t you?”

He gave me a deep kiss and pulled back.

“And turn you into a big. Fucking. Blimp.”

He moved down my body with smooches and gave my stiff cock a suckle.

“Tastes like you like that.”

I shivered and nodded hard. “Oh gosh yes.”

“Mm… Well then little brother, let’s get you big.” His muzzle pressed into my rump, and I clutched the sheets to steady myself as his tongue slid in to work my hole. Taking hold of my hips to pull me closer, he went in deep, my ass twitching around the thickest part of his tongue and making me hunger for the firmness of his cock.

He kept going till my hole was slick with saliva and my cock dripping with pre. I tried to resist jerking myself off, because I was on a hair trigger and if I came I might lose my nerve. But finally Buster pulled his muzzle away from my ass, lifting my legs over his shoulders as he scooted forward, letting his swelling nuts drag behind him as he pressed the head of that thick cock under my tail.

He let out a sigh as his dick sank into me, inch by inch, spreading me open with his girth. “Huff… Buck…”

And at last his hips met mine, his smaller belly rubbing against my hard upright cock, the furry touch bringing me immediately to climax. “Fuck… Buster…!”

My brother started pounding into me as my hole clenched around his cock with every throb of my own. It started to feel uncomfortable as orgasm faded and my body tried to tell me fun time was over — I tried asking him to slow down, but he just flexed his dick in my aching ass and gave me a big grin.

“Stay horny, bro… We ain’t stopping till the walls start creaking.”

“Buster…!”

He leaned over me, that grin widening as his thrusting got faster. “My chubby little brother, getting so full of my cum… Wanna watch this belly swell, covering the bed, bloating up to the ceiling, pressing in on all four walls, just a big relentless blob… Just a massive balloon… More cum than hyena… Fuck…”

His hips slammed into my rump as he hilted inside me, cock throbbing as his words pushed him over the edge. I felt the blasts of cum bloating my guts and the heavy fullness of cum in my belly before I started to swell with my brother’s prodigious load.

Buster put a paw on my belly as he continued to flood it with his seed, watching it fill out like a time-lapse pregnancy. There was a dull ache as my stomach and my hide reached their natural limit, but it faded into a sense of euphoria as my stretchiness kicked in, allowing me to fill more than any natural hyena should.

In moments my sides grew over the edges of the bed, my massive beach-ball gut taut with fullness and obscuring my grinning brother from view. His paws explored the underside of my gut as my growth slowly pushed him backwards.

I don’t know how he managed to stay inside me as I heard him go off the edge of the bed likewise, but somehow he did, cock pulsing each shot of his load into my straining gut.

The mass of cum put pressure on the back of my throat and I tried to keep it down, but as my swelling torso began to engulf my head in a dark tunnel that blocked out all view of the room I couldn’t help blurping up mouthfuls of cum into the confined space.

It wasn’t enough to outweigh Buster’s load, though, and it wasn’t long before my belly hit the ceiling — a point of pressure above me that spread as I continued to fill. The gurgling of the endless cum in my belly filled my ears.

My gut hit the wall to the left of me, then the wall to the right a moment later, while my brother still ground into my hole. It was hard to tell where he was — my body wasn’t used to being shaped like this, and the finer points of how my growing flab was ballooning were lost. Was he still being pushed back ever further, soon to be stuffed in the closet by my burgeoning growth? Was he flat on his back on the floor, buried under the weight of his own handiwork?

All I could tell was that I felt the pressure of all four walls before he pulled out of me, cum gushing both from and against my hole as my brother’s cock and my overfilled ass each tried to slow their respective flows.

Buster’s paws rubbed over as much of my blimped-out gut as he could reach, continuing to grind his fat cock against me. I could tell he was trying to tell me something, but the tens of tons of cum between us muffled everything but the vibration.

Oh well. He’d find his way out eventually, and it wasn’t like he could meaningfully expect anything from me for a while anyway.

What a way to ring out the year, I thought, settling in for a good few days of rest.

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Luis Walker

I write kinky erotica involving fat gay furries. I might have some opinions too. Writing Twitter: https://twitter.com/muskwriter