Family comes first

by EdIam

Edgar and Becky Berger are hosting Thanksgiving for their beloved family. With their twins arriving home from college and Edgar’s widower father, brother, and nephew on the way, the pair are excited to spend time with loved ones. And that’s when their creepy neighbor Yusuf rang their doorbell…

4 parts (1 new) 49k words (#73) Added Mar 2024 Updated 13 Apr 2024 3,238 views 2.5 stars (13 votes)

My Brother, Yusuf Edgar and Becky Berger are hosting Thanksgiving for their beloved family. With their twins arriving home from college and Edgar’s widower father, brother, and nephew on the way, the pair are excited to spend time with loved ones. And that’s when their creepy neighbor Yusuf rang their doorbell… (added: 16 Mar 2024)
Their Uncle, Yusuf With ‘Uncle’ Yusuf and Pete upstairs having an important conversation, his wife Becky singularly focused on cooking the Thanksgiving meal, and John nearing his arrival, Edgar allows himself a moment to feel happiness that his family is all gathering together. (added: 23 Mar 2024)
Their Father, Yusuf Edgar goes to Yusuf’s house to find his other set of gloves while Yusuf takes it upon himself to further change the family dynamics. (added: 30 Mar 2024)
His Son, YusufEdgar’s father’s mind is being invaded by his own son. While he isn’t sure what he’s doing or why, the instinctual actions he takes while altering his own dad’s brain leaves him confused as to how this would actually be helpful for him and the rest of the family. (added: 13 Apr 2024)
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My Brother, Yusuf

“What time do you call this, Jonathan? Your brother already beat you here, y’know. And you should see your mother,” with a playful smirk, I glanced across the room towards my wife, Becky. She lounged back on the sofa, folded one leg over the over, cradling the last few sips of her mid-morning mimosa. With a small smile, she rolled her eyes as I continued. “She’s at the edge of her seat, practically fretting with worry! Poor woman.”

“Oh sure, yeah, Dad, my bad, lemme just hit the turbo boost button on my Camry here and soar right over this traffic jam,” John’s voice, rich with jocular sarcasm, crackled through my phone’s speaker. The rush of tire noise in the background told me all I needed to know about the boy’s supposed ‘traffic jam’. “Or would you rather I just wave my magic wand and make this mile long line of cars vanish instead?”

“No, no turbo boost. Not with gas prices the way they are,” I smirked, sinking deeper into my favorite armchair. I winked at Becky, who, since she was only catching my half of the conversation, clearly had no idea what I was talking about. Not that she seemed particularly perturbed. We’d been married twenty years—she was well accustomed to my nonsense by now. “Just make sure you’re here before Grandpa Bob and Uncle Fred. You know Pops is a stickler for punctuality—you’ll never hear the end of it!”

“Uhh…well I’m still like, half an hour out. Wait- I just realized you said…Pete’s already there? I thought- he told me he wouldn’t get in ‘til the evening! Some research lab stuff, I dunno. He’s been sucking up to one of his biology professors big time.”

“Doesn’t surprise me one bit. He always was more studious. That’s probably why he’s the one with the girlfriend and you’re still single, Johnny,” I teased, laying it on thick. “He always was so much funnier, and smarter, and more handsome, and-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” the college freshmen’s boisterous laugh distorted as it boomed through the phone speaker. “First of all, I have plenty of ladies seeking the John-man, for your information, old man. And ‘B’, I’m humble enough to admit that Perfect Peter might be funnier, and smarter, but come on, we all know I’m the hotter twin!”

On the surface, John’s statement may have seemed boastful; but given the fact that he and Pete were not just twins, but in fact, spitting images of each other, I couldn’t help but guffaw.

“Whatever you say, Mr. Universe,” I couldn’t resist adding. After all, the recent flood of workout selfies on John’s social media hadn’t gone unnoticed—not to mention the countless pictures he posted with attractive female classmates. “Just drive safe and we’ll see you when we see you. All right. Love you, bud. Bye.”

I set the phone face down on the armrest, pausing a beat to watch Becky drain the last of her mimosa. She gazed at me intently over the rim of her glass.

“Well?” she finally said. Even from across the room, I could tell her eyes were already going a little fuzzy. Becks had always been a bit of a lightweight when it came to booze—much to her chagrin, I suspected. “What did he say?”

“Half an hour,” I told her, and I must admit, there was a small, mischievous part of me that was tickled by the way her nose wrinkled with a touch of exasperation.

She rose to her feet with a huff. I could see the tension wrinkled in the corner of her eyes. Most people probably wouldn’t have noticed it, but when you’ve been married to someone for the better part of two decades, you start to pick up on those little telltale signs.

“You okay?” I floated my words out into the air softly. Then with a small, sheepish smile, I added. “My offer to help still stands, y’know…”

At this, her features creased into a smirk. “After the beer batter incident of ‘09? The boys at the fire department deserve to be able to spend Thanksgiving with their families, too.”

I snickered briefly, until the smirk on her face dissolved into a frown, and I promptly shaped up.

“I just…” she sighed, brushing back a strand of golden hair that had fallen across her face. “This is the first Thanksgiving without your mom…and let’s be real, Ed, I think we both know I’m not half the cook she was…and with Bob and Fred and Danny coming too…it’s a lot.

“And what’s more, this will be the first Thanksgiving for you without your mom. I’ve been used to these days without my parents, but I remember the first few I had after losing my mom and dad were toughest. I just want to make sure this all feels as normal for you, your father, and your brother.”

I said nothing. I had always been better at responding with action, rather than words. I climbed to my feet, white cotton socks sliding a little as I hustled across the room and hugged her tightly. It was always a bit comical when we embraced—given that she was 5’5” and I was…well, quite a bit taller than that. She leaned into me, nuzzling her head right in between my pecs.

Admittedly, even though I was supposed to be comforting her, I kind of enjoyed the moment for my own reasons. It’s probably the caveman part of my brain—the ‘family protector’ shtick. On some level that’s probably what had motivated me to keep working out, even though—now a month on from my 41st birthday—I wasn’t really seeing huge gains these days. But still, maintaining the broad shoulders and sculpted pectorals of my 20s was pretty satisfying in its own right.

“Becks…I wouldn’t worry about it. I’ve still got the boys and you. That means I’m happy and loved. I’m obviously going to miss Ma, but I know our family is strong and will survive anything. Besides, Pops lived in Mexico City for years during his mission before meeting Ma; any tastebuds he might have once had were disintegrated long ago by all that spicy food. And Fred, well, pssh, who cares what he thinks.”

I felt, more than I heard, the small trill as she giggled softly into my chest.

“Want me to fetch Pete to help you out?”

“No,” she murmured, voice muffled by my t-shirt. “Let him nap. He drove a long way. I’ll have John help me when he gets here. You can send Pete in once he wakes.”

“All right,” I said, as she gently pulled away, muttering something about needing to baste the turkey.

She gazed up at me, running a dainty finger tenderly down my cheek, the nail grazing gently against the smooth skin. Her eyes filled with the twinkle of an idea, a sly smile forming on her perfect face.

My dick twitched expectantly. I knew what that look meant. Tonight was going to be fun…

She turned, and I gave her a quick, cheeky slap on the butt as she stepped off.

“Edgar Berger!” her cackle trailed her out of the room, “Behave yourself!”

With a grin, I wobbled back to my La-Z-Boy and slouched down heavily into it, turning my attention back to the Thanksgiving parade playing out on the television.

I watched, puzzled, as the people on TV scurried about frantically. The camera panned out, and I realized an enormous pig-shaped balloon had somehow broken free of one of its tethers, and was now bobbing and weaving under a gust of wind, barely clinging on. I couldn’t help but wonder how these people, supposedly ready to go and trained, could let things get out of control so easily.

For a few minutes, the sight of the frantic balloon handlers struggling to contain the porcine behemoth on live TV caused me to forget all about Thanksgiving—and the looming arrival of my son, brother, nephew, and father.

As I let out a small chuckle at the unfolding escapades, silently judging the irresponsibility of the handlers, the chime of the doorbell brought me back to reality. ‘John, that lying brat!’ I thought. I couldn’t help but smile. The boy thinks he’s so funny…half an hour away, huh? While it was strange that he would ring the doorbell rather than come in, I fully expected the jokester to make me answer the door and surprise me with some stupid one-liner.

The leather squelched as I hauled myself up out of my recliner once more and smoothed the front of my t-shirt with my palms. I took a moment, peering out of the side bay window onto the porch.

The smile slid off my face in an instant. Instead of the youthful, 6’2” figure of my son that I expected to see, I laid eyes on a far less imposing—and entirely unexpected—figure. There, scratching his potbelly and looking as disheveled as always, stood our neighbor, Yusuf Wasfi.

Looking at him, I couldn’t help but think of the giant boar floating above New York seeing the similarly hog-shaped (and smelling) man on my porch.

Becky’s voice hollered from the kitchen, “Hunny! Is that John? It better be,” with a light-hearted chuckle she added, taking out any sting, “These carrots won’t chop themselves!”

“Uhh, no, it’s Yusuf…”

After a few moments of puzzled silence, her voice called back. “Wait, Yusuf? Yusuf Wasfi the neighbor? That Yusuf?”

“Yeah…” I took a few steps away from the front door, lowering my voice just a touch, before adding. “Don’t worry, I’ll get rid of him.”

With a heavy sigh, I turned back and gripped the door handle. Even through the door’s frosted glass, I could make out the stains on his shirt…and possibly a whiff of his ever-present BO.

Pretty much during our entire tenure in our home, I’d done my best to avoid Yusuf, and shield my family from his advances. The guy gave me and my boys the serious creeps. Ten years earlier, when we first moved into the neighborhood, he’d appeared at our door in the middle of the day, clutching his laptop and feigning distress. He had said he needed our help because his ‘internet was down’, and that was a big problem for him, because he worked from home as some kind of IT whiz.

Trying to be a good neighbor, I’d allowed him into our living room to borrow the Wi-Fi for a while. I still remember the way his beady little black eyes darted around our living room, lingering far too long on the family photos…not to mention me when he didn’t think I was looking. Those stares were the first clue that he had a bit of an interest in me.

Then there was that time during a neighborhood block party when he’d tried to inveigle himself into a game of backyard soccer with my boys and couple of their friends were already playing, spending the entire time leering at their thighs, backsides, and repeatedly (and not so subtly) encouraging them to take off their shirts because of the ‘heat’.

Not to mention the alarming large number of instances when a package addressed to him would ‘somehow’ end up on my porch, obligating me to go over there and give it to him.

Standard gossip amongst my friends in the neighborhood proved to me that he was ogling several of the fathers and sons, but they all noticed his attention seemed particularly pointed towards my boys and me. We were, as they often jested with us, his ‘favorites’.

Now he was here, his raggedy old t-shirt accompanied by a pair of sweatpants, on Thanksgiving of all days. His overly hairy arms arched forward at an awkward angle, trying to support the only strangely new aspect of his presentation: two very strange mechanical looking gloves on each of his plump hands.

His general appearance was quite a stark contrast to my family, as well as most families in the neighborhood. Yusuf had his messy, thick dark brown hair, a unibrow, deep brown eyes, darker Middle Eastern skin, and his incredibly hairy body and face. A beard, let alone the thick bushy one he sported, was quite rare in our neighborhood filled with blonde-haired, blue-eyed WASPs that inhabited nearly every large ‘all-American’ home.

It was no surprise he lived alone. I mean, the guy was obviously pretty intelligent, and he be somewhat wealthy, since the large houses in our upscale suburb were not cheap. Maybe if he just put some effort into his appearance and showered more than once a week, he could actually get a guy of his own, and stop creeping on me, my boys, and the rest of the families in our community.

Despite what many might think, it wasn’t that I or my neighbors were racist or homophobic against Yusuf. We just didn’t think an obviously perverted, disgusting, single man belonged in our family-friendly neighborhood.

It wasn’t only the way he creeped me out that made him such a horrible neighbor. He was also frustratingly loud with constant banging, drilling, and strange noises emanating from his home at all hours. I’d gathered from in in the few conversations we’d had that he was extremely intelligent and enjoyed dabbling in random ‘inventions’ in his free time. In fact, he had strange contraptions all around his house and yard. He was like a real-life dad from Honey, I Shrunk the Kids…except an undeniably horny homo pervert.

Flinging the door open, I couldn’t keep myself from showing my distaste for the disgusting man as he stood there on my doorstep. His eyes bulged slightly, looking me up and down for a moment before regaining his composure. Then, with a creepy smirk on his face, he greeted me.

“Hey Edgar! Good to see you! Just thought I’d, uh, come over and show you…well…use my new invention and in the process wish you and your wonderful family a happy Thanksgiving.”

Quivering slightly, as if nervous about our interaction before I’d even responded, he stretched out his right hand, clearly looking for a handshake.

Holding his hand there, I looked down at it, not wanting to touch him. In the ten years we’d lived here, I’d actively avoided interactions like this…yet here he was. Not to mention the fact his hand was covered in small wires, lights, and electrical looking gadgets that were, well, less than welcoming for me to grab onto.

As he held his bizarrely gloved hand there, a small amount of sweat crept down his face. Clearly, he was worried I wouldn’t accept his handshake. Realizing I had few other options to clear my front step, I started after a brief sigh, “Look, Yusuf. Thanks for coming over for the greeting, but we’re waiting on our family for dinner,” I reached out and shook his hand to show the comradery I was faking, “So if you don’t mind-”

Suddenly, I felt a slightly painful twinge as the strange glove seemed to poke me with a few needles. “Hmmm…mind…ha,” Yusuf repeated, squeezing my hand. Despite the pain, however, I suddenly felt as though I couldn’t let go…let alone move at all.

I was frozen there, hand seemingly now attached to the metallic glove I’d grabbed. A bright halo appeared in my vision, indicating that my eyes had dilated while a peculiar feeling within my brain began to form. It was almost as if my brain was expanding itself before Yusuf into some kind of document he could read. It was a sensation I’d never truly felt before, feeling as though he was poking around in my head, moving information around my gray matter without my ability to stop, fight, or even comprehend what he was doing.

I wasn’t sure how long we were stuck in this moment but, seemingly mere seconds after he’d grabbed my hand, he let go and I was brought back into the moment.

Without missing a beat, I smiled broadly, “Hey little bro! You’re here kinda early! Pops and Fred won’t be here for a few hours or so. Pete’s napping upstairs and John should be here relatively soon. Goodness, don’t just stand out here in the cold! Come in! Come in!”

I stepped back, giving my little brother space to come inside. My heart throbbed a little seeing his tense face relax as if he was experiencing some kind of huge relief. It was much better seeing him so comfortable compared to how nervous he’d been for whatever reason a few moments before. With a huge smile, he walked just past me, taking in the entrance as if it were the first time he’d been in my home in a while.

“Thanks, bro. I couldn’t resist coming over to hang with you for a few hours before, um, our Daddy gets here. How lucky is it that your favorite brother lives right next door, am I right?” Yusuf stated, saying the sentence as if he were rubbing something in that I wasn’t aware of.

“Are you kidding? I love that my little bro lives next door! Means we can rough house like we used to do when we were kids!” I replied, laughing along, slapping his sweat-covered back.

As I smacked his back it was odd, of course, that he looked, well, Arabic compared to the rest of the families more Germanic features. None of that mattered to me in the slightest, however. I couldn’t deny that my little brother was family.

Taking my other arm and wrapping it around my bro, I brought him in for a tight hug. As much as I loved him, the intense musk emanating from him did force me to stifle a gag a bit. Regardless of his smell, I loved him deeply. The last thing I’d ever do is make him feel badly about anything, so I let it go.

I could feel Yusuf beaming as I held him tight. Being a few inches taller, his head rested comfortably on my shoulder and with a hunger in his eyes, he turned his head towards mine and practically purred, “Family is so important, as you know. I’m excited to see the rest of the family. Especially Johnny and Petey. Absolutely love how big and close our family is.”

I let out a small scoff. Counting Yusuf and myself, there was really only eight of us now that Mom had passed on. “We don’t have a very big family, bro. It’s only-”

“Well, that’s my part of the prep work taken care of,” the chuckle in Becky’s voice carried down the hallway as she emerged from the kitchen, unraveling the knot of her apron and slipping it off from around her waist. Without realizing she’d interrupted me, she continued as Yusuf and I pulled apart, “Pete can do the potatoes when he wakes up and John can…”

Becky’s gaze fixed on Yusuf’s portly form, standing disheveled in the doorway next to me, before darting towards me, confusion—and a tinge of anger and concern—in her eyes.

“Oh, umm, hi Yusuf,” she said tentatively, forcing a smile that I could tell was fake, “Thanks for stopping by, but we’re only entertaining family today…”

I turned at her, trying to contain my shock. Slightly flustered at what she’d just said, I couldn’t help but be slightly curt. I mean, what was her deal? Had she seriously just implied my brother wasn’t family?

“Love…Yusuf is spending Thanksgiving with us…” I started, trying to keep my voice even. Having an argument with my wife in front of Yusuf was the last thing I wanted.

She shot me daggers with her eyes. To be frank, I was left baffled at her response. I simply didn’t understand why she was acting this way. Thanksgiving was for family. And Yusuf was family…

Before I could reply, Yusuf stepped forward. The smile on his face seemed surprisingly calm for someone squarely at the center of some marital awkwardness.

Becky shot me a look—the confusion and concern she was feeling was written in her eyes. What was her problem? Maybe she’d hit the mimosas a little too hard…

“Ed…?” Becky murmured, her voice quivering slightly. She took a tiny step backwards, her hands clutching the apron tighter.

Her eyes darted between me and Yusuf, who was still shambling casually across the foyer towards her. She looked almost panicked and fearful for her safety! In most situations, I’d try to comprehend why the love of my life was behaving as if she were in danger…

…but this was Yusuf! If anything, we were all safer having my amazing sibling under our roof.

She took another small step back towards the wall. “Yusuf, I’d like you to leave. I think you should-”

As Yusuf stepped within closing distance of my wife’s body, he lurched forward towards her suddenly. A high-pitched yelp of panic escaped her lips as she tried to avoid him. What was she even fussing about? It was just Yusuf, up to his usual shenanigans. Why was she acting like that? Anyway, it didn’t matter, because Yusuf was quicker than he looked; always had been, the little sucker.

“Ed!” She shrieked, arms flailing as she tried to escape Yusuf’s grip.

Even as Becky squirmed and panicked in the background, I couldn’t help but smile as I stared off into space for a moment, wistfully reminiscing back to all the memories of my brother and I playing ball in the backyard as rambunctious youths. Yeah, even back then, he’d been more agile than he’d looked. Those sure were the days…

A second after Yusuf made contact, Becky froze, which I found quite interesting. She had always been a bit of a fidgeter, so to see who suddenly standing perfectly still, like a statue, was remarkable. The panic faded from her eyes; they went wide, the pupils dilating almost instantly.

I slipped my hands into my pockets and took a few steps forward. Obviously, I didn’t want to interfere with…whatever it was my bro was doing to my wife, but at the same time, it definitely piqued my curiosity.

From my new vantage point beside them, I noticed Yusuf’s eyes had rolled back into his head, leaving only the whites visible. The eyeballs were swiveling back and forth from side to side, as if they were reading a book…or something. I don’t think I’d ever seen him pull off that party trick before. Well, I mean, except for a few minutes ago when he’d grabbed me, of course.

As they stood still, Yusuf’s palm wrapped tightly around Beck’s narrow wrist, I noticed her arm would twitch occasionally, almost as if she was trying to pull away. But as I looked at her face—jaw slack, brow smooth, with her eyes large, blank, and empty—it was obvious she wasn’t doing it consciously. I couldn’t help but wonder if my face had looked like hers when he grabbed me earlier at the door. Her arm twitched again, just a slight pull. It wasn’t going anywhere, not under Yusuf’s vice-like grip. It was quite fascinating to watch, though. Perhaps it was the echo of a memory, the last thought she’d had before Yusuf had short-circuited her brain…or whatever it was he’d done. I dunno, I’m not a doctor. Or a genius inventor like my little bro.

In fact, as I stood there and started to ponder more deeply on what exactly it was Yusuf was doing to my wife, I realized it was actually none of my business! I figured it would be best if I simply returned to the living room and waited for my brother to finish up with whatever it was he was doing to Becks.

I didn’t get far, though, because almost as soon as their little entanglement had begun, it was over. Yusuf took a small step back—and as he did so, I couldn’t help but notice the red mark he’d left on my wife’s wrist from gripping it so hard.

Haha! Yusuf was such a scamp! If any other man had left a mark like that on my lady, let alone even touched her without her consent in the first place, I’d have been furious. And I mean, it wouldn’t have been hard for me to overpower Yusuf, since I tower over the little dude. But I mean, this was Yusuf we’re talking about! Everyone knows he’s a great guy—these sorts of fun little moments were just par for the course. There was no way he’d harm me or our family…even if it did look like it hurt.

I watched as Becky blinked a couple times, her gaze coming back into focus. Her lips stretched out into an easy, carefree grin. I couldn’t help but notice the sharp, inquisitive light I could usually see in her eyes had dimmed now. Interesting…

Ah well. It didn’t really bother me. Her goofy grin and glassy stare—the look of a woman who had been entirely unburdened of any complex thought—honestly seemed to suit her better, anyway.

She blushed as she wrapped the apron back around her waist and knotted it tightly without a second thought. “So sorry about that, Yusuf,” she explained sheepishly. Still smiling bashfully, she unconsciously—and rather gingerly—rubbed the red mark on her wrist. “Not sure what came over me for a moment there. Anyway, please, you boys head into the living room and put your feet up!”

I breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, everything was back to normal—just how it should be. Clearly whatever Yusuf had done to her just now had cleared things up. Yusuf had always been a skilled diplomat—one of his many talents. I was lucky to have such an awesome brother.

I offered a polite chuckle. “Absolutely!” I began to move towards the living room again, only to spot Becky still standing by the door to the kitchen. “Coming, Becks?”

Yusuf interrupted before Becky could respond, “Oh no, I bet she’s got so much work to do in the kitchen she couldn’t spare a moment. Isn’t the right, Becky?”

As Yusuf uttered the word ‘work’, Becky’s smile widened automatically, and she slipped a small scrunchie from her pocket.

“Exactly, Yusuf!” she tittered. Using both hands, she scooped up her luxurious, wavy shoulder length hair, skillfully tying it back into a simple, functional ponytail as she continued speaking. “There’s so much to do. Gosh, it’s like you read my mind. You guys relax, I’ll take care of everything. Every little thing, by myself. All by myself. Just how I’m meant to. Every little thing…”

At that, I couldn’t help but cock an eyebrow. She only ever pulled her hair back like that on days when she knew she was going to be doing a lot of chores—like spring cleaning or an all day gardening session.

Either way, I didn’t have time to ask about it, because she was already heading back to the kitchen, gently humming some kind of singsong tune as she went.

What was going on with her today? One minute she’s not even recognizing her brother-in-law, and now this sudden zeal for kitchen duties? That’s the last place I figured she’d want to be.

I guess the bemusement must have been written on my face, because Yusuf’s words plucked me from my musings.

“Don’t worry about her. Relax,” he told me, and I couldn’t help but smile as my shoulders slumped slightly, the tension instantly seeping from the muscles. Yusuf always knew the right thing to say. And I always took his sound advice to heart.

I gestured to Yusuf to join me, and we made our way into the room. I took my spot in my favorite leather chair, and he spread out on the couch like he owned the place.

It was just like old times: the two of us laughing and joking, like we’d always done as boys growing up. He kept going on and on about explicit homosexual stories about ‘hot’ men that he was into and made quite a few off-color jokes. He knew that I was a straight as they come and, while really uncomfortable with homosexuality in general, my brother just put me at ease regardless of his sexuality. Despite laughing harder than I’d laughed in a long time, I knew that if anyone else had made them, I’d have been quite uncomfortable. But I just sat back and loved the time I got to spend with Yusuf. I’d long ago accepted this aspect of my younger brother’s personality, so I took it all in stride.

“And then!” Yusuf continued boisterously, as I creased over, practically crying with laughter, as he retold another hilarious anecdote. “You know what he said to me? After I’d blown his ass cheeks up to the size of melons with the left glove?”

“What?” I said, struggling for air between my giggles. “What did he say?”

“He said, ‘Thank you, Master Yusuf’! Can you believe that?”

I laughed uproariously. “Thank you, Master Yusuf? He actually said that? After you gave him a giant bubble butt?!”

“Right?” Yusuf grinned. “You shoulda seen the size of those things. Practically threatening to burst through the seams of those little post office shorts of his. That was a sight, I tells ya. And then the putz actually thanks me for doing it to him! Granted, my right glove made sure he was appreciative! The moron couldn’t help it!”

I wiped the tears rolling down my cheek as I failed completely to restrain my cackles. “That’s fucking hilarious, bro. You used your prototype inventions to change his mind to your liking, to give the mailman a bubble butt, and all he did was thank you?! Fuck man, that’s fantastic. I wonder what his wife thinks!”

“It is fantastic, isn’t it? As for his wife? Who cares! He’s too busy begging me to let him be my sex-toy to mention her!” Yusuf bellowed gleefully.

I let out the loudest laugh I could recall having. The fact that our straight mailman now had a cartoonishly large ass and wanted Yusuf to make him a gay sex-toy was absolutely beyond hilarious. I wiped even more tears from my eyes thinking about the always kind, normal father being altered against his will just so my brother could ensure his new inventions worked.

“Damn, bro. You never cease to amaze me! Pure genius! And hilarious as hell!” I gushed, loving how proud Yusuf seemed.

“I am, aren’t I? And, well, after I knew my invention could change his mind and his body, I just knew I could move onto the main event. Postman Eric’s gigantic fuckable behind is a work of art, sure, but I have much more extensive uses for these babies,” he gushed with a laugh, spreading his legs even wider, highlighting a bulge that proved how turned on my little bro was talking about all this. I couldn’t help but laugh with him, knowing whatever this ‘main event’ was, he deserved it!

“Oh, is that why Eric’s shorts seemed so tight when he dropped off that package yesterday? I did notice he was waddling a bit sheepishly while doing his route. Especially after leaving your house,” Becky’s voice chimed in pleasantly as she stepped into the room and stood near the door, folding one hand over the other at the small of her back. “Anyways, sorry to interrupt, boys. Just wanted to see if I could bring you both a beverage?”

Since Yusuf was our guest of honor, I sat quietly and let him order his drink first. It was just polite, really.

“Hmm,” Yusuf said, thoughtfully scratching at his unkempt neckbeard as he stared into space for a few seconds. “What’s the most expensive thing you’ve got? Or something you truly would only open for a specific reason? Like, I’m guessing you’ve got something you’ve been saving for a special occasion. I bet you’d let me have it, right?”

Becky and I made eye contact, and then we smiled simultaneously. I could tell what she was thinking; I was thinking the same. We really only had one beverage that fit the bill. But I’d let her make the offer, since she had a stronger connection to our most expensive bottles of wine than I did…and, on top of that, she’d be the one serving it to us, apparently.

“We have a couple bottles of Chateau Margaux from the day John and Pete were born. They’re 1931,” she said, eyes glimmering with pride, “We’ve been saving them for…”

“That’ll do,” he interrupted with a dismissive wave of his hand, as if bidding my wife off to the basement to fetch it immediately.

“Absolutely!” Becky hurried off excitedly. In all our years together, I couldn’t recall a time she’d been so eager to serve somebody else quite like this. Made sense, though. Yusuf was the kind of guy you just naturally found yourself wanting to please. And, well, she’d known him since we married! Obviously she knew he deserved utter reverence.

Swelling with a bit of pride in my wife’s obedience to Yusuf, I stole a glance at my wonderful sibling. I felt a surge of joy seeing he was staring at me, seemingly gaging my reaction. I realized it was rather amusing the way Yusuf’s smiles always seemed more like cruel smirks. Just another one of his charming idiosyncrasies!

Truthfully, the bottles of Margaux were both being saved for quite special occasions. They had been gifts from Becky’s parents to celebrate the birth of our twins eighteen years prior. Becky being their only child, they celebrated becoming grandparents by continuing an old family tradition on her father’s side. They’d bought expensive wine that would remain unopened until their grandchild’s wedding day.

Becky’s parents were quite well off and spared no expense, purchasing two five-thousand-dollar vintages that Becky and I had saved since the day of our boy’s birth.

The bottles became even more important to my wife when each of her parents passed on, truly becoming links to them that she cherished just as much as I did. When she’d been mourning, she’d mentioned how happy she’d be to share her parents’ love with our boys and their wives one day.

But, well, if my brother wanted the most expensive option we had available, obviously a bottle of the Margaux was what he’d get! Without a doubt, Becky and I were willing to open it for such a brilliant man!

She returned a few minutes later, just as Yusuf had started explaining how the postman had been sending him countless photos of his huge ass almost constantly trying to convince Yusuf to fuck him. Obviously, I was laughing my ass off yet again, knowing Eric had a wife and kids at home he was more than likely neglecting to show off for Yusuf. He had just brought up a particular graphic photo on his phone that I was giggling over when she entered.

Eric was on all fours on the floor in what looked like a bathroom. An unbelievably huge pair of white cheeks filled the frame. His rectum was pink and tightly closed while a pair of low hanging balls were just cut out of the pic. I couldn’t help but laugh at the slutty way Eric was showing off his ass for my brother, even if it was the first nude photo of a man I’d ever willingly looked at.

Becky didn’t seem particularly curious to see Yusuf’s photos, however, as she was carefully balancing one of the bottles of wine on a silver platter, along with two tall wine glasses.

“Are you not partaking, Becks?” I asked her, as she set down the tray on the coffee table.

“Oh, no,” she smiled as she dusted down her palms on the front of her apron. “Too much work to do today. I think it’s best if I just stick to water this Thanksgiving.”

“A wise choice,” Yusuf said approvingly as he leaned forward and began to pour; he didn’t hold back, practically brimming the glass. “Better to stay sober, if you’re going to be on your feet all day, doing chores and such.”

“Exactly,” she beamed with a nod. “Can I bring you boys anything else?”

“That’ll be all. I’m sure you probably have cleaning or something to do, you know, if there’s nothing left to prepare for our feast, at least,” Yusuf told her, with another lazy flick of his wrist.

Becky was no shrinking violet, at least, not usually. There’s no way she’d let any other man talk to her like that. Heck, there’s no way I would allow it, either. But since it was Yusuf, of course, she just gave him a small smile, an acquiescent nod, and off she scurried, back to her kitchen while I was left impressed with how assertive he was with my usually quite independent wife.

Taking the opportunity to join him in relaxing, I pulled myself forward in my armchair, perching on the edge of the seat as I leaned forward to take the second glass.

“Umm…” Yusuf’s voice sounded sterner suddenly, and I could feel his gaze on me, “Do you really think that’s a good idea, brother?”

I raised my eyebrows, and I’m sure the momentary confusion I felt was playing out across my countenance. I looked at him. “What do you mean…?”

He shrugged his unimpressive shoulders. “It’s not exactly a huge bottle. If you have some, that’s less for me, isn’t it?”

“Oh, of course, bro! I wasn’t thinking,” I replied, as my body almost reflexively flung itself back fully into the armchair, well away from the wine.

I could feel the heat building in my cheeks almost immediately. With a casual smile, I tried to surreptitiously cool the blush on my face with the back of my hand. What on earth had I been thinking? Trying to take Yusuf’s wine? He was our guest! Wow…I needed to get it together…

As I watched Yusuf down two glasses of the almost-century old wine, and then move in for a third, we heard a door close from upstairs, followed by a creak of a floorboard above us. Since Becky was busying herself in the kitchen, it must be Pete, finally roused from his nap.

I immediately rose to my feet. “All right, bro, I’m gonna leave you alone with Margaux for a few minutes,” I told him solemnly. “Pete mentioned when he got in earlier that he had something important he needed to discuss. It’s kinda private. I’ll be back in a few.”

As much as I wanted to keep hanging out with my brother, I was actually quite excited to chat with my son. I was pretty sure I already knew what Pete wanted to discuss with me. With both boys having fled the nest for college that past August, I’d started a little family tradition of having a weekly phone call with both of them every Monday night, one after the other.

During my most recent chat with Pete, he had dropped a few hints about his longtime girlfriend, Tonya. I had a feeling Pete was going to ask for my advice on whether he should propose. He didn’t say much beyond wanting to talk to me about her when he arrived for Thanksgiving and to keep it from his mother for now. He’d been a bit exhausted from his long drive when he arrived but told me he’d love to chat once he woke.

Honestly, I was a little torn on the idea. On the one hand, they had been going steady ever since freshman year of high school without—as far as I could tell—even a hiccup. And they did seem to make each other happy. And from what I knew about Tonya, and how smitten she was with Pete, I was fairly certain she would accept, even if he proposed with a plastic ring from a cereal box.

But still…they were 18! It seemed a tad premature, particularly in this day and age. I was wary about him rushing into something and making a mistake. That’s precisely why we needed to have a private chat about it, so I could gauge exactly what he was thinking and feeling about the whole deal.

A frown formed on my brother’s face. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. What’s with all the secrecy? I’m family, aren’t I? There’s nothing Petey Boy can’t say in front of his good ol’ Uncle Yusuf, is there?”

I hesitated. Yusuf had a fair point. But at the same time, I could tell from the look on Pete’s face earlier that morning that he really didn’t want to discuss it in front of people—not even his beloved uncle.

“Thing is…” I scratched the back of my head with a casual chuckle. “It sounded like Pete wanted to discuss it with just me, actually. Whatever it is. He didn’t even want Becky to hear it!”

Yusuf made me wait while he took another long pull from the wine, then shrugged dismissively. “Like that means anything. Of course he wouldn’t want Becky to hear it. She’s just a woman. Unimportant. But me? I’m his Uncle Yusuf! Seriously, Eddie, sit your ass down and tell me now.”

Yusuf gestured with his hand for me to sit back down, and I immediately plopped back into my recliner. My obese brother just had a presence I couldn’t deny.

“Uh, well I think he’s going to ask me about marrying his girlfriend. I’ve got the impression he wants my opinion and advice,” I blurted, before even fully realizing it. A small bit of shame in telling Pete’s secret crept in briefly. I’d kept the secret from my own wife, sure…but this was Yusuf. He deserved to know if he was curious.

I felt a bit sheepish as I smiled at him, “Don’t uhh…don’t tell Pete I told you though, huh, bro?”

Before Yusuf could reply, Pete stepped into the room.

“Oop!” I grinned at my boy. “Speak of the devil!”

Pete smiled, absentmindedly scratching his messy bedhead, “Hey Dad. If you and Mom could spare a moment, I think I’m ready to…”

Pete’s stride came to a complete halt once he laid eyes on Yusuf realizing it wasn’t his mom. He glanced at me, concern written all over his face. It was strange that this was exactly how Becky had been earlier! What was with our family today? You’d think they had never welcomed Yusuf into our home before!

“Come in, Pete,” I beckoned him forward, gesturing to the spot on the couch beside his uncle. To my surprise, though, Pete didn’t hustle into the room and greet Yusuf as I expected. Instead, he just stood there by the entrance, looking like an agitated kitten that might scarper at any moment.

Pete had always been the shy twin; not that he had any reason to be, mind you. The boy had become—as was easy to see, his boxer shorts and muscle tank doing little to conceal his athletic build—a rather strapping young man.

Yusuf seemed to be relishing the view, too. His beady eyes were hungrily devouring Pete’s muscular, toned frame from afar. The collar of Pete’s tank top hung low, leaving plenty of smooth, hairless chest on display for Yusuf to enjoy. His boxer shorts hung loosely and did cover his genitals, but the small fly in the front could have easily opened, revealing his most private parts to his uncle and me.

And for some reason, that seemed to be making Pete uncomfortable. I noted the shift in his weight onto his backfoot, towards the exit. His hands crossed in front of him wear his penis would be, likely ensuring there’d be no accidental views of his manhood. He definitely looked as though regretted not dressing before coming downstairs expecting only his mom and me.

He was polite—and probably too bashful—to voice his apprehension to his uncle’s presence out loud, but it was painfully obvious from his body language—arms folded across his chest, shoulders pulled inwards, shuffling backwards slowly—all the same.

I felt a flash of annoyance. I didn’t raise my kids to disrespect their elders; why was Pete ignoring Yusuf? He hadn’t even greeted the guy!

“Peter, aren’t you going to greet your Uncle Yusuf?” I asked him, giving him ‘the look’ with my eyes—the look I reserved when I needed to make it clear I wasn’t playing around; a look I rarely gave Pete but often gave the more rambunctious John.

Pete’s eyebrows shot upwards, like he was struggling to process what I had just said. He looked like he wanted to ask me a question rather than greet his patient uncle. I pursed my lips meaningfully, telling him I meant what I said.

“Uhh…hi…Yusuf,” he said woodenly, fidgeting with his short, neatly styled blond bangs as he spoke with one hand, the other still firmly blocking his fronts, “How- how are you…?”

“Oh come on…” I rolled my eyes. “Peter Robert Berger, what is wrong with you this morning? This is Yusuf you’re talking to! Uncle Yusuf! He’s everyone’s favorite member of the family! Say it like you mean it!”

“Mhmm…” Yusuf nodded, his eyes still closely studying my son’s gym-sculpted frame.

If anyone else stared at my son in such an oddly predatory way—someone who I knew for a fact was gay—I’d probably take issue with it. But since it was Yusuf, I knew it was perfectly fine. It wasn’t strange to understand that Pete had grown into an attractive man. I was his straight father and I could see that was true!

What wasn’t perfectly fine, however, was the way Pete was acting around his uncle! The nerve of this boy…

Then, an idea struck me.

“Yusuf?” I asked, though he didn’t look at me—his lecherous gaze firmly glued to my teenage son. “Would you mind, y’know…whatever you did to Becks back there to knock some sense into her. Mind doing that again with Peter?”

“You’re cool with that, Eddy?” he asked me, exerting an over-excitement for such a simple request, “Me using my invention on your son, just like I did your wife?”

“Absolutely! Besides,” I added with a chuckle. “Even if I wasn’t, you’d done it to her without asking to get the respect you deserve. Something tells me my scamp of a brother would do the same to Pete without my asking anyway.”

Yusuf smirked, “All right then,” he said, rising to his feet.

Pete’s clear blue eyes filled with confusion, and maybe a little fear. I saw his muscles tense.

“Dad…?” he asked, his voice getting lost somewhere in his throat. He gulped, the prominent Adam’s apple shifting as his eyes searched my face for some kind of clue as to what was about to happen.

Not that I could offer him a clue, obviously, since I didn’t really know what it was Yusuf was about to do to my son—but that was okay—whatever it was, I knew it was for the best! I knew based solely on his stories about Eric and how Becky had reacted that his right glove was able to change a person’s mind or something along those lines. Something deep inside my soul just innately trusted Yusuf to use that insane power responsibly. All I needed to do was sit back, stay quiet, not interfere, and let my brother set things right. The way they should be at any family Thanksgiving gathering.

Yusuf wobbled onto his feet and stepped forward towards Pete, a hungry glint in his eye. He lunged forward, dark, hairy arm outstretched. In an instant, the fear and confusion in Pete’s eye switched to focus steel. His jaw (impressively chiseled, if I do say so myself, since he inherited it from me!) tightened with intensity.

I knew Pete was an athlete, yet in all my years of attending his high school soccer games, wrestling meets, and track days, I don’t think I’d ever seen him move quite so fast or instinctually as he did right then. It was an impressive move, honestly. A mix between a wrestling hold and a judo throw. In a split second, he’d grabbed his uncle’s forearm with his right hand, and the elbow with his left. He roughly twisted the arm and bent it away from him and behind Yusuf’s back. The cephalic vein in his right arm bulged as he applied full force, spinning Yusuf around.

As quickly as Eric likely uttered the phrase “Master Yusuf”, my little brother found himself pushed to the floor, his knees slamming loudly—and probably quite painfully—on the hardwood, with his right arm pulled back behind him, locked in Pete’s hold.

Yusuf’s right arm flailed desperately, trying to reach back behind him to grab something—anything—of Pete’s body, but with the way Pete had positioned himself just off to one side, it was impossible. I had to admit, I know this is a bad thing to think about, but for a moment, I couldn’t help but notice how pathetic Yusuf looked, squirming uselessly like that, having been so totally and easily dominated by a college freshmen.

“What the actual fuck is going on here?!” Pete blurted, some saliva escaping his lips as he spoke. His eyes, filled with blue fury, stayed locked onto the back of Yusuf’s head. His face was flushed red, and he was breathing hard. A part of me was proud of him for speaking his mind so forcefully. But another part was furious he’d treat his loving uncle in such a cruel way.

Ed!!’ Yusuf screeched desperately, flailing helplessly in my strong son’s arms, “Help!!”

On Yusuf’s cry, I jumped to my feet in an instant and surged forward. It was only natural—I had to help my brother! Who on earth did Pete think he was?

Pete heard my footsteps and raised his head just in time to see me grab him. Growing up, I’d done plenty of play fighting with the boys, WWE moves and the like, but this was the first time I’d actually had to restrain him.

But let me tell you, restrain him I did! He didn’t have much time to react, not that he would have done much to stop me anyway, I suspect. I wrapped my arms around his neck—one encircling the throat, the other pushing the back of his head forward with my palm. The rear choke hold was always a solid maneuver for moments like this.

Softly, he gasped out a meek, “Dad? Dad, why…”

It was nearly enough to let him up as miserable and betrayed he sounded. But he’d attacked his uncle unprovoked! The boy had to understand that was completely unacceptable.

Luckily, it seemed Pete wasn’t going to use his youthful strength to fight against his own father. I knew he had every ability to manhandle his old man if he truly wanted to. I felt a small amount of shame in exploiting the fact I knew he trusted and loved me to ensure he stopped treating his uncle so poorly.

After a few moments of weak attempts to break free of my grasp, Pete went limp, releasing Yusuf, who wasted no time scrambling to his feet and grabbing the boy’s arm with his right glove.

A gurgled, “No!” escaped my boy’s throat through the chokehold as Pete’s big blue eyes dilated immediately, just like his mother’s had. His strong jaw went slack, mouth hanging slightly ajar as he stared off into space. His broad shoulders slouched, the tension seeping from his muscles in an instant.

I released Pete’s throat as Yusuf’s eyes rolled back, doing the slight ‘reading’ movement that had happened when he used his invention earlier.

Only a few moments later, his eyes returned to normal.

“Now,” Yusuf grunted, a little breathlessly. There was something almost feral in the way he was looking at Pete now. “You’re going to go back out into the foyer, come to your senses, and we’re going to try this again. And this time, you’re going to show me the respect I deserve.”

He pulled his hand back, and Pete’s arm fell uselessly to his side. A moment later, he seemed to wake up. Looking almost mindless, I watched as he slowly stood and shambled out of the living room without a word, gently easing out of the room.

“So sorry about that Yusuf,” I said, quickly stepping forward and brushing him down, “I honestly don’t know what came over him. I’ve never seen him act like that before. Here, let me get you another glass of Margaux.”

I helped Yusuf back to the couch and settled him in with another glass of Pete’s wedding wine. Just as my butt hit the leather of my armchair, we heard a polite knock on the archway leading from the foyer to the living room.

“Get on in here,” Yusuf grunted between sips.

Looking rather sheepish, a small, embarrassed smile on his face, Pete stepped into the room. This time, as he laid eyes on Yusuf, his face lit up.

“Uncle Yusuf!” he exclaimed happily, hurrying towards his uncle. He didn’t need an invitation this time—just plopped himself right down on the couch beside Yusuf, snuggling up right next to the older, hairier man, “So good to see you! Oh, golly, Uncle, you smell so good. As always!”

I breathed a sigh of relief. That was better. Everything was back to normal again. I sure hope we wouldn’t have to go through this song and dance again when John arrived…

I gave a proud smile seeing how comfortable Yusuf had clearly made my boy. It was so selfless of him to use his inventions to ensure Pete could relax and express his true feelings for his beloved uncle. He obviously cared deeply for his uncle, as he should, but now he seemed to be so much more comfortable being honest with and demonstrating that fact.

“Well, gee, Petey Boy. I’m flattered. I’ve always loved spending time with you too. I always wanted to be able to have much more intimate experiences with both my nephews,” Yusuf smiled broadly, emitting an excitement that seemed a bit over-the-top for someone that had known Pete since he was a baby.

Then, just as it had been before Pete had joined us, Yusuf continued with his perverted and overly gay stories. I thought Pete might revert back to his introverted self hearing such honest and vivid stories and jokes, but he laughed just as much as we did. Harder at times, in fact!

But, eventually, I noticed that Pete was not only hanging on Yusuf’s every word. He’d slowly scooched closer and closer to his uncle that he was practically cuddling with his uncle. Yusuf clearly wasn’t upset about the closeness, resting his arm on the back of the couch and around his nephew’s neck. Pete took the invitation and nestled his head into his uncle’s hairy armpit, a space I knew had to be rank with my brother’s BO.

If I didn’t know better, I could have sworn between laughs he was actively sniffing at the damp, messy hairs splayed out from Yusuf’s underarm. And did I imagine him licking his uncle? And was that my boy’s…erection sneaking out of his boxers?!

Shaking my head at the bizarre thought, I realized it was a trick of light. I’d wanted Pete to respect his uncle…this was just how he wished to express the love he had for him. There was no way he was actually turned on by his uncle…he was straight! And was going to ask Tonya to marry him!

“So the masturbating father’s looking at his son and says ‘It’s perfectly normal. And you’ll be doing it soon enough too.’ The son shakes his head, confused, ‘Why would you think that?’ And the father says, ‘Well, for starters, my arms getting tired!’” Yusuf let out a roar of laughter, holding Pete in a little tighter, forcing Pete’s face into his squishy, fat pectoral.

Despite myself, I let out a laugh too, allowing all my concerns to fade and just enjoy the amazing presence my brother provided.

Pete, for his part, laughed so much harder than I would ever have imagined him to. Still smashed into his uncle, the muffled laughter was so intense, I thought he might start choking! If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought John was here, as extroverted Pete was behaving.

“Uncle Yusuf! I can’t believe how funny you are!” Pete said playfully, pulling his head away from his uncle’s chest. After a moment of intense laughter, he leaned back into his uncle even more than he had before, bringing his own muscular arm around the overweight man’s chest and pulling himself into him, “And so delightfully naughty…”

Confounded by what he’d just said, I gave my son a confused look. It had almost sounded as if he was flirting with his uncle! What was more, he was now basically all over Yusuf, arm around him in an awkward seated hug that looked as though Pete was attempting to touch his own uncle with as much of his body as possible.

Pete’s chest was pressed firmly into Yusuf’s large belly, his head resting on one of his large moobs. Pete had brought up his left leg to rest on Yusuf’s thick thigh, dangling between the older man’s legs. Glancing briefly, I could have sworn I’d seen Pete’s penis pointing out of his undies yet again. But as quickly as I’d seen it, the angle made it impossible to be sure. But the way Pete had angled his body now, it would be pressing into Yusuf’s thigh.

Given the fact Yusuf wasn’t saying anything about Pete behaving inappropriately and there being no way my brother wouldn’t feel my boy’s hardness in that position, I let the ludicrous thought pass. I mean, at this point Pete was lightly rocking into Yusuf—practically dry humping his own uncle’s thigh—there was no way Yusuf wouldn’t feel my boy’s erection against his leg and scold him.

After a few minutes of Pete gushing about how ‘amazing’ Yusuf smelled and Yusuf allowing him to out of politeness, I cleared my throat loudly. I didn’t necessarily want to make anyone uncomfortable, despite feeling an intense discomfort myself at how much my son was basically throwing himself at his own uncle.

Yusuf looked over at me, seeing if there was anything wrong. Pete, however, just kept lightly grinding his body into his uncle without concern.

My brother smiled at me as Pete brought his hand up to stroke Yusuf’s beard tenderly, “Say, Edgar? Didn’t you say you wanted to have a quick conversation with Pete? Or that Pete wanted to speak with you about something important?”

“Uh, yeah. I was just thinking that it was about time we did that. Pete, did you still want to have that talk?” I said, excited to finally get to speak with my boy about his future wife. And, slightly more embarrassing, I wanted to stop Pete from being this friendly with his uncle.

“Actually, I think I’d rather talk about it with Uncle Yusuf, if that’s okay,” Pete replied, still petting his uncle’s beard tenderly. He hadn’t even looked at me, seemingly unable to stop staring at Yusuf’s face. Leaning in, it looked as though he inhaled deeply, sniffing his uncle yet again.

“Really? I mean, I get it. Uncle Yusuf if a pretty great guy. But if you wanted to talk about Tonya, don’t you think your, well, straight married dad might be a better source of information?” I offered, slightly hurt my boy had changed his mind about confiding in me.

Pete, for the first time since Yusuf had justifiably used his glove on him, tore his face away from his uncle and looked at me, “Yeah, Dad. I think I’d prefer to get Uncle Yusuf’s perspective. I, uh, have had a slight change of heart about Tonya and,” his stare switched back to Yusuf, “And I think he’s the only person that can really help me with that.”

After finishing his statement, Pete began groping at Yusuf’s chest while increasing the rate of his grinding. The hand he’d been using to stroke the beard traveled downward, tweaking his uncle’s nipple that was casting a shadow in his stained shirt.

Feeling a sting of sadness hit me at being rejected, “Well, if you’re sure…I was hoping you’d want to…” I started.

“Now, now, Eddie. I think Petey Boy here knows what he wants. And it seems he’d like his uncle’s expertise. It’s in you and your boys’ best interest to just let us go up to his bedroom and chat. That sounds like the best course of action, don’t you agree?” Yusuf staring at me without moving, simply allowing Pete to practically worship his body as he humped his leg.

I nodded, watching Pete’s hand move down to Yusuf’s large belly. Pete let out a small moan as he continued to thrust, squeezing at the fatty tissue. If I didn’t know better, I’d think my boy was actively getting off on smelling and cuddling with his uncle.

But, well, that was laughably impossible. This was Yusuf! He’d never allow his own nephew to behave like that…even if he was the gay pervert I knew and loved!

Ultimately, I had to concede that Yusuf was right. He’d likely be the best person for Pete to confide in now. Especially if he, himself, claimed his uncle would be.

“I guess you’re right. I gotta respect my son even if it makes me feel…”

“Perfect! Let’s go Petey Boy. I know you can’t wait to…talk,” Yusuf stated, practically taunting me with the statement as he stared daggers at me. I think most people would have interpreted the look he gave me as menacing and dominating. But knowing my brother as well as I did, I knew he was just excited to be able to help his nephew.

Family truly was everything to my beloved younger brother, after all.

“Hey, Eddie, before we stand and go, you know full well that no matter what you might see on your boy’s midsection, it’s perfectly normal and understandable given how much your boy loves his uncle. Whatever you happen to see is just further proof that Pete adores me. That’s true, isn’t it?” Yusuf stated, giving me that approachably devilish grin again.

I smiled, relieved to hear from Yusuf that everything I’d thought I’d seen earlier was never an issue. Just hearing my trustworthy, amazing brother say that brought such a reprieve to my concerns about seeing my boy’s erection through the fly of his undies.

With a nod of reassurance from me, Yusuf urged my boy to dismount him, and Pete did just as his uncle commanded.

The two stood up quickly, Pete still gawking at his uncle. Despite what Yusuf had said, I obviously still was curious to see what was happening between my boy’s legs. All my concerns were gone as I saw that his large penis was, indeed, poking straight out the fly of his pants. What a calming and wonderful sign that Pete truly cared deeply for my brilliant brother!

I hadn’t seen my boy’s penis since he was a toddler and definitely had never seen it hard, but it was quite the sight!

It looked quite a bit like mine, honestly, just a bit smaller. I was around 8 inches hard and he was likely around 7.5 or 7. He wasn’t incredibly thick but was definitely at least average. The angry, red circumcised head was slightly wet from the pre that he’d been leaking onto his uncle’s leg. The entire length was a pinkish white and sticking ramrod straight out. A particularly large vein bulged on the right side and I chuckled knowing I had a similar vein on my own meat. His balls hadn’t made their way through the opening, but if his cock had been inherited from me, which it seemed to be, his balls would be low hanging and slightly smaller than average.

Smirking at me as he watched me look at my boy’s privates, Yusuf grabbed his nephew’s hand and guided him across the room. It was a slightly comical sight, my short, larger brother dragging his much taller, fit, attractive nephew behind him like some kind of love-sick puppy with his cock bobbing up and down excitedly with every step.

Despite my slight misgivings and disappointment that I wouldn’t be able to talk with Pete about his wedding proposal any longer, my heart vibrated with joy that at least Yusuf would get to help guide the boy. There was no one else I would trust with that task…even Becky. And the fact that his erection was dangling out the front of his boxers as he went upstairs with his gay uncle only added to the sense of ‘rightness’ of this shift in plans. Clearly, my straight boy getting hard just by hanging out with his uncle was all the evidence I needed to know that Yusuf was the best man for this job.

Looking down at the nearly empty bottle of wine we’d been saving, most likely, for Pete’s wedding, I smiled broadly. Contentment filled my heart.

What did I do to be so blessed with such an amazing brother?

 

Their Uncle, Yusuf

Alone now that Yusuf and Pete had gone upstairs, I took the opportunity to focus in on the TV. I pulled the handle on the side of my leather armchair, leaned back, and relaxed with my feet in the air, content in knowing all was right in the world. That rare feeling one gets knowing their happy family would be all together again shortly washed over me.

Knowing Becky was enjoying cooking and cleaning the house for us, John was likely nearly home, Dad and my brother and his son would arrive later today, and Pete and my beloved brother Yusuf were upstairs having one of the most important conversations of my son’s life just filled me with that rare, calm joy. Only those with a very close, tight-knit family could really understand. And I felt so blessed to understand completely.

I felt a small twinge of sadness that Pete wasn’t talking with me about his plans for marrying Tonya but pushed that invading thought away. It felt so much better just being happy that my brother got the opportunity to help him. Yusuf never had any kids of his own, after all. I could always have that conversation with John when he was ready…if he ever stopped being a playboy and settled down with one girl.

In a way, I realized it was better that Yusuf could talk Pete through this. It was almost as if Pete and I were gifting an experience only a parent could have. A sense of pride for my brother swelled through me yet again. Being willing to step up and help his nephew with such an important and meaningful conversation was absolutely beyond the expectations of a normal uncle. It was generally the responsibility of the parent that raised them. But, naturally, my perfect brother would step up at any opportunity to help his family.

Lost in thought and zoning out watching ESPN without really listening, I practically jumped out of my seat when I suddenly heard the front door open and a loud, “Mom and Dad?! Your favorite child is here!” filled our entryway.

Letting out a jovial laugh from my chair, I responded with a gruff, “But Pete is already here!”

Hearing shoes being kicked off, a backpack dropped to the ground, and the light-hearted chuckle I so adored from my boy, I eased my way out of the chair to greet John at the entryway.

“Good to see you too, Dad. Even if you are a horrible liar,” John grinned, edging forward with his arms open as he met me at the entryway to the living room.

Hugging John tightly, “Glad you’re back home, John,” I replied earnestly.

Giving me a tight squeeze as a response, he pulled away, “So where’s Mom? Figured she’d be eagerly awaiting the arrival of her unpaid sous-chef. Was fully prepared to be pulled into the kitchen the moment I got here. Unless that rat Pete suddenly learned his way around a stove and is stealing my thunder.”

Chuckling, “Well, luckily enough for you, you’re off the hook. Seems your mom decided to handle it all on her own. So your culinary brilliance is on hold until Christmas.”

John grinned impishly and gave me a doubtful look, “There’s no way we’re talking about the same Mom that ‘encouraged’ me to learn to cook when I was, like, 12 so she didn’t have to, are we?”

“Your guess is as good as mine! But she insisted we rest and I’m not one to argue with your mother when she sets her mind on anything. I learned long ago that that never ends well,” I replied.

“I’ll bring my stuff up to my room later. I’ve gotta see this new mother you’re describing with my own eyes. I don’t believe I’ve met her before. And if Pete isn’t in there insisting on being a good son, I’ll have to step in and prove I’m the golden child.”

John made his way past me as I lightly patted his upper back, feeling so happy to have both my boys under one roof again, “Now don’t go ruining a good thing like you normally do. We get to relax! We’ll get all the rewards without any of the work! And your mom did seem happy with her choice.”

John laughed along with me, making our way through the dining room to the large kitchen. My heart swelled with pride for my boy who, despite his jokester persona, truly was a helpful, kind son. Knowing he was willing to help his mother even if she didn’t want it any longer was truly admirable.

As we entered, we spied Becky working away chopping some vegetables while glancing back at the oven every now and again. Her brow was slightly sweaty, and she wiped it away quickly before resuming her work.

I felt a sudden pang of guilt that I had been relaxing in the living room with Yusuf and Pete while it was obvious Becky was overwhelmed and exhausting herself. Honestly, it was surprising she had been so insistent that she’d want to do everything on her own.

But she had already decided that, after all. And Yusuf had given her his blessing, so, shaking off the guilt, I reminded myself that she was choosing to spend her Thanksgiving like this.

“Mom! I’d expected a prince’s welcome at my glorious homecoming and here you are working away like a maid!” John announced, making his way across the room, not hiding his slight concern for his mother in his voice.

Looking up with a smile while still slicing, “Oh, goodness! I didn’t even hear you come in, John! I’m pretty focused on getting all this done and ready for all you boys. Why don’t you go back to the living room and relax with the other boys?”

John, with his arms up, waited for his mother to stop for a moment and hug him. Watching as Becky lowered her gaze back down to her task at hand, John held his pose for a few moments before asking, “Well…am I at least gonna get a hug? It’s my first time home after leaving your empty nest!”

“Sorry, hun. I’m too busy to stop. Gotta keep going. Gotta do every little thing I can! Maybe later! You boys go put your feet up in the living room and I’ll round you all up once the meal is ready!” Becky stated with a somewhat forced enthusiasm.

I just smiled and shrugged slightly as John, still holding his arms out for a hug, looked at me for some kind of explanation.

Lowering his arms and walking away, glancing back at her with some concern, “Well, um, love you too. And, well, if you change your mind, don’t cut all those veggies. You know that’s Pete’s only talent in the kitchen. And, well, I’ll help. Honestly. There’s no reason you can’t put us to work. Especially since I know I’m a better cook than you.”

Sticking his tongue out at his mother with a wink, he waited for her to respond with her normal jovial laugh. Instead, she wiped her brow yet again and hurried towards the refrigerator to grab whatever she needed without even acknowledging her boy.

John, looking slightly hurt, joined me in at the entrance and shook his head, glancing back at his mother one more time.

Walking back to the living room, John expressed some concern over his mother’s behavior. “She’s kind of acting weird. I’m a little worried about her, Dad. You sure none of us offended her or something? You know I’d never intentionally hurt any of you.”

Pulling him in to a tight one-armed squeeze, I assured him that she was her own person and we should respect her decision.

“Sure, but this is a rather sudden change of heart and in behavior! She spent this entire week telling me exactly what she was going to have me do in the kitchen. And, well, it was pretty much everything! Do you think she thinks Pete and I don’t want to help her or something? Honestly, I think I should just go back in there and insist. And I’ll go wake up my lazy twin to help.”

Entering the living room still holding him against me for emotional support, I laughed, “You are an amazing son. And I think we can all admit that you are the only one in the family with any passion for cooking, so she was likely banking on that before she changed her mind. There’s no doubt she knows you’d help. But she’d let you know if she needed it. She’s no stranger to the kitchen, though. So just enjoy your first visit home to see your family! And don’t worry about Pete. He already woke up from his nap. He’s just upstairs for now. He’ll probably be back down to say hi to his lesser half shortly.”

John smiled, seemingly conceding the point. Then, as he went to take his spot on the couch while I eased into my leather chair, he noticed the open wine bottle and glasses on the coffee table.

“Wait,” he said, lifting the bottle, “Wasn’t this one of the bottles Grandpa Steven and Grandma Patty bought for Pete and I when we were born? Does that mean…?”

I smiled broadly, “Yup. We decided to open it today. Your mom actually made the decision.”

John’s grin broadened, “So the little dork is gonna get hitched? Wow, that’s big news! Poor Tonya’s gonna have to put up with the shy nerd alone now. Why is he upstairs when he should be down her celebrating with us? And why did the little dork not tell me first?!”

Laughing at John’s lighthearted jokes knowing he didn’t view his twin so negatively, “Actually, we’re not entirely sure he’s gonna pop Tonya the question yet. I have my strong suspicions, but he hasn’t really said it out loud to me quite yet. But don’t worry, we’ll find out in a bit. We just have to wait for him to come back downstairs.”

John, with an exaggerated look of confusion, responded, “But Mom let you open the bottle anyway? That’s kind of strange…you sure she’s not been replaced with an evil clone? Or fell on her head? Or brainwashed by some evil villain? First she insists on doing all the cooking and now she’s opening up the wine without even being sure Pete’s gonna get hitched? She’d always said she was so excited to drink it with us on our wedding days…”

I let out another laugh, enjoying the casual rapport John and I had always shared, “Oh, it’s not invasion of the body snatchers or some evil plot! If anything, it’s your uncle’s influence. He made sure your mom didn’t mind the cooking and, well, it’s your uncle, so we both didn’t mind popping the cork a bit early.

“And not only with your mom; Pete’s been inspired to act a bit different too! He was even reminding me of my loud, obnoxious, annoying other son earlier! Pete’s actually upstairs with him now. I expect he’s having that talk about possibly asking Tonya for her hand with him. But you should have seen Pete before he went up with him! He was more animated and excited then I’d ever seen him! It was kinda infectious! Definitely a much more likable son than you.”

With a smirk and a couple casual middle fingers in my direction that I took no offense to, John replied, “Really? Pete? My dorkier half? Mr. ‘strong and silent’? Animated and excited? Naw. There’s nothing Uncle Fred could have said that I hadn’t already tried. And what would he have even told Mom that would convince her she needed to open the wine or do the cooking? I mean, I think they get along and stuff, but he doesn’t have that kind of pull around her house.”

Laughing at John intentionally calling our house his mother’s, I shook my head, “No, not your Uncle Fred. Your other uncle. He invented this new glove thing and he was using it on them to help calm them down and, well, it helped your mom be a bit more eager to cook and clean and Pete really opened up once he’d used it on him.”

John stared at me for a few moments before responding. Then, with a small laugh, “Dad. I have one uncle. I’ve only ever had one uncle. Mom was an only child so it’s only your brother, Uncle Fred. Who you talkin’ about?”

I laughed loudly, knowing John’s ridiculous playfulness was coming out in full force, “You have two uncles, dummy. I’m obviously talking about your Uncle Yusuf.”

John looked like he was racking his brain to figure out who I was talking about, his youthful face scrunched tightly. He had always been a bit more expressive with his various emotions than his identical brother, and this was no different. I nearly choked with laughter at his clearly forced overly confused look before he finally followed up, “Wait, do you mean the creepy neighbor next door? Like the one that used to stare at Pete and me…and you for that matter? Not to mention all our friends in the neighborhood. He’s the only Yusuf I think I’ve ever heard of. Why would you be calling that gay pervert my uncle?”

I gave him a scowl. What was it with my family today? First Becky, then Pete, and now John seemed to be losing their minds regarding my younger brother. Unconcerned with changing the cheery vibe of the room, I scolded him suddenly and harshly, “Yes, our next door neighbor and your uncle, Yusuf. Your uncle isn’t creepy, Jonathan. And he’s been our neighbor for ten years. I would prefer you not to speak about him like that.”

John laughed, obviously thinking I was joking. Not hearing me laugh in response and staring stone-faced, he stopped, “Wait, are you kidding, Dad? We’ve talked about how he used to stare at Pete and me all the time. You literally told us to avoid him because you thought he might freaking rape us! You can’t be serious!?”

“I’m not kidding, Jonathan. Stop speaking about family like that. Family is important. You may be 18, but I’ll still whoop your hide if you continue disrespecting him,” I growled uncharacteristically. I’d never spanked my boys, but this could be an exception. I just couldn’t help but defend Yusuf. I loved my brother deeply and even my own son had no right to disrespect him.

“This has got to be some kind of crazy joke,” John started, “Is Pete still napping and you’re messing with me? Is this a stupid practical joke cuz I’m not falling for it. ‘Ha ha, let’s convince Johnny the guy next door that sexually harasses him will be joining the family for his first Thanksgiving home, ha ha ha,’”

Staying stone face with my boy and not enjoying being mocked in the slightest, “There’s no joke. And I expect you to apologize for what you’ve said about Yusuf now. He’s your uncle. He’d never sexually harass you. He loves you.”

John, in response, just snickered, “This isn’t even a well thought out prank, Dad. You’d never let Yusuf in the house even for a joke. I’m getting Pete. Feel free to join, but you can’t convince me that you’re being serious.”

With his usual casual smile on his face, he stood up and made his way out of the room. I got up to follow him saying, “Fine, but once you see I wasn’t lying, you’re apologizing to me, to Yusuf, and to Pete. And you’re leaving them alone until they finish their talk.”

Clearly not taking me seriously in the least, John shook his head and led the way up the stairs towards Pete’s room. I followed closely behind, feeling an anger at my son stronger than I had ever previously. What gave him the right to say all those false and horrible things about his uncle? The only thing Yusuf had ever done for our family was to love us strongly and fiercely. I only hoped Pete and Yusuf would accept his apology once he interrupted their talk.

Nearing the door, John stopped suddenly, as if hearing something unexpected. Placing his ear to the door, he leaned in. Being just a few feet behind him, I wasn’t entirely sure why he hadn’t just knocked or entered.

Then I heard what had stopped John on the spot.

Through the door, the sound of male moaning penetrated the wooden barrier. I, too, leaned into the door to ensure I wasn’t imagining the unexpected noise.

The distinct sound invaded my ears as I looked over at my son. This certainly didn’t sound like the important conversation about marrying the love of his life I’d expected Pete to be having with Yusuf.

“Is Pete…uh…masturbating?” John asked.

I shook my head, “Why would he with Yusuf in the room with him?”

Rolling his eyes, John just pointed to the doorknob, silently telling me I should open the door.

After a few moments of confirmation that this wasn’t just my imagination and hoping I wouldn’t see either Yusuf or Pete moaning behind the door, I reached for the doorknob and opened it quickly, leaving John and me standing awkwardly in the doorway.

My brain shut down. What I was seeing simply couldn’t be happening. Before I could fully process what it was John shouted, “What the actual fuck?!”

The initial instinct to tell my son not to cuss rebooted my mind, allowing my confusion to sort itself out so I could fully register within my brain just what I was witnessing.

Yusuf was sitting on the edge of Pete’s bed, leaning back on his elbows with his legs spread wide. He’d, at some point, stripped off his shirt revealing his extraordinarily hairy chest, shoulders, and back. His large belly was an absolute forest of dark black hair extending outwards with a pair of hands groping and grasping at the fleshy expanse like a maniac.

Those hands were attached to a black-haired younger man who was also shirtless. He, like Yusuf, also had darker hair and, from what I could see, a hairy chest. His wide shoulders and muscular back were flexing wildly as his head was buried between my brother’s legs, practically gnawing at Yusuf’s genitals. His arms were above his head, absolutely going crazy trying to touch every bit of my brother’s large abdomen while his head bucked and shifted wildly between Yusuf’s legs.

As the head moved around, I could tell the sweatpants Yusuf was wearing had darkened by the boy’s wet mouth, completely dampened by the drooling young man. The unmistakable lump made it obvious that Yusuf was enjoying the ‘above-the-clothes’ oral worship immensely.

Yusuf had his eyes closed and head pulled back, allowing the stranger to go wild with his mouth on his clothed penis. The flailing, strong, youthful hands poked and prodded at every inch of the large belly, seemingly obsessed with every bit of skin he could feel.

After what felt like an eternity staring at the brazenly homosexual act before me, Yusuf also responded to the sudden shout, looking over at John and I standing in the doorway. With that same welcoming smile I’d always so loved, he warmly greeted us, “Hey Johnny Boy! So nice of you to join us! I know your dad was eagerly awaiting your arrival. But I bet I was even more excited to see you!”

Looking over at John for his reaction, it seemed after his unconscious outburst he’d lost his ability to speak. He stood there, mouth agape, as he tried to process the strange sight alongside me.

Bringing my focus back onto my brother, I tried to contain my shock and anger. Despite feeling disappointment that Yusuf was behaving so sexually with a strange man in his own nephews room, it was still Yusuf. So I tried to be calm as I uttered with forced ease, “Yusuf. I thought you were going to be speaking with Pete? Not sneaking in some, uh, stranger for a little tryst while your family is downstairs. What are you doing? And where is my son?”

Surprisingly, just talking to my brother and asking him those questions helped to calm me. Despite the intense emotions I felt inside, I knew this was Yusuf. He’d likely have a reasonable explanation for such a strange sight. At the end of the day, I knew he wouldn’t do anything to harm me or my boys, so there had to be some kind of rational explanation for allowing some random guy to come in and slurp on the front of his pants.

“Don’t worry, bro. I’ll explain everything in a few moments. Even though this feels amazing, I think first things first, we gotta make sure John doesn’t have the same strange reaction to seeing his favorite Uncle Yusuf. You’d agree with that, right?”

Thinking back, Yusuf wasn’t wrong in saying Becky and Pete had initially behaved rather rudely when they’d first seen him. I’d even hoped John wouldn’t act the same way. It only made sense that we should make sure Yusuf got the chance to use his right glove on him before we got to the explanation. If I was shocked by my brother’s actions right now, John was very likely absolutely beside himself with disgust and confusion.

“You’re right,” I stated, turning to John, “Let’s just get this over with. Yusuf will help you calm down, John.”

Grabbing John’s arm, I tried to pull him into the room. Afterall, he’d already said some awful things about Yusuf downstairs. I could only imagine what he wanted to say now that he was watching some random guy loudly sniffing and licking his gay uncle’s bulge in his brother’s room!

Pulling away from me, John stubbornly shouted, “What the hell, Dad? You’re letting this…this pervert do this? In Pete’s room? It’s gay!? It’s against, like, everything we believe! What the fuck?!”

“Just trust me, John. You’ll feel so much better after Yusuf uses his glove on you and helps you remember exactly how important he is to this family. It worked perfectly for Pete and your mom too,” I retorted, trying to keep hold of him and stay calm in the face all this insanity.

Fighting against me, John pulled back again, looking like he was ready to sprint past me and run downstairs.

“Looks like Johnny Boy is too strong for his Daddy,” Yusuf chuckled. Grabbing the man’s black hair between his legs somewhat painfully, he pulled his face out of his crotch and gazed down at him, “Be a good boy and bring John over here, Pete.”

Still trying to get a firm grip on John so I could bring him to Yusuf to help him, it clicked in my brain that Yusuf had called the unfamiliar man Pete. John, too, seemed to freeze and look over, processing the implication.

The kneeling man nodded while Yusuf pulled on his thick black hair painfully. Turning towards us, I was left slightly dumbfounded. Now that I could make out his face, I tried to comprehend what I was seeing.

The man was clearly around the same age as Pete, possibly a few years older, and definitely had strong similarities. His facial structure was almost identical, with his kind eyes, strong jaw, and contagious smile.

But this ‘Pete’ had thick black hair, a dark beard, and bushy dark eyebrows over sparkling dark brown eyes. It was a far cry from the blonde/blue-eyed man I knew. His skin was also much darker, matching Yusuf’s more Middle Eastern shade.

His body had changed too and was much broader and slightly chubbier. The extra pounds, however, translated more as thick muscle than fatty tissue. If anything, this Pete had to be more physically strong, as if going from a swimmer’s build to a wrestler’s.

His wider chest was covered in the same shade of dark fur as his head and face, as were his arms and legs. Dark, pert nipples were hidden beneath the thick pelt, punctuating the large, round pecs that had to be nearly twice as large as my Pete’s had been.

But the confirmation that I was, indeed, looking at my son was at his midsection. A small amount of calm oozed into my mind seeing that his cock was still pointing straight out the fly of his underwear.

Sure, this cock looked a far cry from what it had been downstairs. While thicker, it had to be at least three to four inches smaller, leaving around a four-inch beer can of a penis still firm and pointing outwards. What’s more, he was clearly uncircumcised now, a foreskin cradling a large cockhead with just a hint of his glans pointing out the end of his erection.

It wasn’t the strange new cock, however, that confirmed what I was seeing. It was the fact that this Pete was wearing the exact same boxers the Pete I’d known for 18 years had been wearing downstairs. While much tighter now that his thighs had expanded to fit his new frame, this was clearly my son.

As he approached John, who was frozen in confusion at what he was seeing, I looked at Yusuf. Ignoring my goal of getting John over to his uncle, I asked, “Wait…did you change…did you use…is…is this Pete?!”

As this Pete easily grasped and manhandled John next to me, Yusuf just smiled at me, “Let’s just handle Johnny Boy real fast and I’ll…”

Before Yusuf could finish his sentence, John began shouting, “Let go of me! Who the hell are…what is this?! Dad!? Dad, help me! Why are you just standing there! Why does his face look like Pete? Is this…?!”

Pulling my eyes from Yusuf and glancing at the Middle Eastern version of my son, I fixed my wandering and befuddled gaze on John. This ‘Pete’ was easily overpowering him and dragging across the few feet from the door towards the bed. Without question loving that he was doing what he’d been told, I could see his cock bobbing happily as he stared adoringly at Yusuf.

Wanting to calm my son, however, I reassured him, “I know this has to be strange for you, John, but just relax. Yusuf will help. Just let…well, I guess this is your brother Pete…uh…let Pete guide you to your uncle.”

“What in the fucking hell are you even…this isn’t my twin…Yusuf isn’t my…how can he look so much like…this can’t be happ…” John started, silenced the moment Yusuf reached casually from the bed and touched his wrist. I could see his fear and anger fade away instantly as Yusuf’s contact calmed him fully. Only seeing those whites of Yusuf’s eyes, my nerves relaxed knowing my amazing brother would be able to fix John quickly.

As John’s mind was being corrected, Pete let go of his much different looking identical twin and looked over at me and smiled, “What do you think, Dad? Uncle Yusuf made me so fucking sexy. He truly is the best, isn’t he?”

Smiling while feeling a bit confused as to why Yusuf would change his nephew so considerably, I just replied kindly, “I certainly trust in whatever your uncle thinks is best…this will just take some getting used to. Did you get to talk to your uncle before he…you know…changed you? About Tonya?”

I couldn’t help but feel like I was talking to a stranger rather than the boy that I’d spent 18 years raising. But seeing that smile I’d so adored for so long, I couldn’t deny that this was, indeed, my Pete.

Pete, for his part, responded with an obvious hint of disgust as I said ‘Tonya’, “Actually, yeah, we did talk. But it wasn’t about her. I had to confess that I…”

“Wow…” we suddenly heard before Pete could finish his thought. Looking over, I could see John looking at his uncle with a much more adoring gaze than he’d had before Yusuf had the chance to use the glove. Curiosity around what Pete was going to say evaporated as I smiled, knowing John would be treating Yusuf with the respect he deserved.

Yusuf responded, his eyes having returned to their normal sinister sheen, “Yeah? Feeling better, Johnny Boy?”

Without warning, John dove forward, smashing his face onto his uncles. He began to groan slightly as he kissed his uncle passionately, Pete looking on, giddy seeing his brother make out with Yusuf.

“Uhhh, John…I don’t think…” I interrupted, slightly uncomfortable with the quite obviously sexual kiss between my son and brother. Why the hell was my straight son kissing his uncle so intensely? This was the guy that had a new girlfriend every other week and openly confessed to not understanding the ‘whole gay thing’ to me.

Sure, I could understand that he loved his uncle intensely. But to kiss him like that? While his equally straight brother was smashing his face into his crotch not five minutes ago?

What was happening to my boys?

Were they…gay?

Pulling away from his Uncle Yusuf, clearly only because he’d finished the kiss rather than hearing my interjection, “Damn, Uncle Yusuf. I missed you! I can’t believe I haven’t seen you in months! You’ve always been my favorite uncle and I can’t believed I survived without seeing you…and smelling you…and tasting you…”

As his words faded, I could see my strapping young man staring at the lips he’d just smashed his face in with hunger. Licking his lips, I half expected John to slam his mouth back onto his uncles.

Before he could, Yusuf responded, “I know boy. Why don’t you and your brother catch up in the living room, though. As you can see, Pete’s gone through quite a few changes since the last time you saw him. I’d imagine you both have so much to…discuss. And I think I have to fill in your father on a few things alone before we rejoin you two.”

Putting on an exaggerated pout, John replied, with a small hint of sincerity, “But Uncle Yusuf! I really only came home to hang out with you! You know how much I love you! You’re my favorite member of the family by far! Please let me stay with you! Please?!”

Yusuf smiled broadly and pulled John in for a tight hug. John, for his part, simply melted into his shirtless uncle.

Meanwhile, I couldn’t fathom why my son was acting like such an immature child. Was he actually whining and pouting about being sent away from his uncle? This wasn’t how John acted normally…

Yusuf’s mouth was positioned just at John’s ear, far closer and intimate than I’d expected from my brother and his nephew. Yusuf then began to speak right into my boys ear, allowing his warm breath to invade the canal in a way that seemed overly sensual, “Now, Johnny Boy. I know you and Petey here have a lot of catching up to do…in fact, it’s almost as if the two of you are completely different people! Besides, don’t you feel like you have some compulsions and desires you’re finally comfortable exploring? Some insanely fun things you’d like to try out with Petey? Don’t you? I’m right, aren’t I?”

Giving a tight squeeze, John released his uncle and smiled, looking over at his altered twin, “I think we’ll find a way to entertain ourselves for sure. Twins always know what makes one another happiest. It’s like a sixth sense. And I think we have a lot to catch up on for sure.”

Pete smiled back, a somewhat bizarre glint of mischievousness in his eyes. The look reminded me of John far more than Pete—and was a look we’d received when John knew he was going to do something his mother or I would deem ‘against the rules.’

“Come on bro, let’s let Uncle Yusuf talk with Dad. We have plenty we can do to pass the time,” Pete stated firmly, grabbing John’s much paler hand and guiding him out the door. It was a stark contrast to the forced dragging Pete had to utilize on John just a few minutes prior as John smirked devilishly and eagerly followed behind his larger twin brother. As Pete passed with his newly thickened chode bobbing, I could also make out a huge tent in John’s pants too.

Before I could process the strange way my boys were behaving, Yusuf interrupted my thought process, “Why don’t you come take a seat, bro. I can tell you’re a bit confused about what you just saw. Come sit next to me now, Eddie.”

Yusuf’s command breaking me from my focus on my boys heading out the door, I made my way to the spot Yusuf was patting next to him, eager to allow my brother to smooth out the sudden wrinkles of shock in my mind. What I’d just seen was far from what I’d expected when we’d come upstairs and I definitely needed my trusty brother to explain it all for me.

“Now, Eddie. Tell me what seems to be bothering you. You seem so upset!” Yusuf gushed in an over-exaggerated way.

“What happened to having a talk about marrying Tonya? I thought that’s what Pete wanted? And why did John kiss you? And then…was…did you and him…was there flirting…and…why did you…I mean I think you…” I stumbled on my words from my elevated emotions, “Was that actually my Pete?!”

Yusuf reassured me by placing his arm around my shoulder, “I can see how you’d be confused by what you just saw, bro. But, just as before, you know I’d never lie to you so just listen for a bit and I’m sure it’ll all make sense. You’ve always loved me and always trusted me implicitly. This is no different. There will be no doubt in your mind that I would only tell you the truth.”

I nodded pleasantly. If there was anything I knew, without a doubt, it was that Yusuf had my best interests at heart. Deep in my heart and mind I knew that whatever Yusuf said had to be true and I could just absorb what he said as absolute fact. It had always been the basis of our close brotherly relationship.

Looking at him and practically pleading with him to explain with only my eyes, Yusuf started, “You see, when we got up here, Pete did confess that he had something important he’d wanted to talk about. Thing is, you’d completely missed the signs of what he was actually going to tell you. He is actually quite repulsed by that girl Tonya.”

Racking my brain, I thought back on our conversations the past few weeks. They’d mostly focused on school and Tonya. What could I have missed, especially when he was so strongly suggesting that he was convinced Tonya was his soul mate? How could I have missed he didn’t like Tonya any longer?

“You see, the reason he wanted to talk to me rather than you is because, well, the fact of the matter is, Pete has been living a lie. Pete is gay.”

My heart sank like a ton of bricks. Pete was gay. I’d missed it. This changed everything. And because it was Yusuf that said it, I knew it was true…

…But it made such little sense.

A shiver of disgust echoed erupted in the back of my throat. Pete had loved Tonya. I’d been sure of it. How could he be gay?

The disgust turned to utter revulsion. I knew, instinctively, that the negative feeling I had wasn’t necessarily due to my distaste for homosexuals. Because, well, it wasn’t that I had anything against gay people explicitly; my favorite brother sitting next to me was practically the gayest guy on Earth!

But to find out my own son had been living with those feelings for so long and I’d missed the signs was shocking. I loved him! I cared so deeply for him, his life, and his existence. How could I have been such a horrible father to have missed the signs?!

“Now, before you say anything, I know what you’re thinking. He seemed so in love with Tonya and he’d been with her for so long and he’d never said or done anything gay and blah blah blah. Well, that was all a lie that he realized he couldn’t contain any longer. It’s as simple as that. He’s still the same masculine, sexy, hot stud he’s always been. He’s just gay. And I demand that you do not beat yourself up. You’re just going to accept that Pete is gay and that’s that. He’s still Pete. It’ll be easy for you to accept it.”

As if Yusuf’s words were purified water raining down on me, the feelings of negativity washed away just as easily as he’d said it would be. Yusuf was, indeed, right. This was my son! He’d been so convincing as a lovesick, shy straight guy that there wasn’t any way I’d have known his true feelings deep inside. He was still my boy.

My son was gay. And I could and would accept that.

“Okay, Yusuf. You’re right. I obviously still love him and support him. And I won’t make this about me. I feel okay with this. Honestly,” I responded, meaning every word. I beamed with pride for my gay son, knowing he finally felt comfortable to live in his truth and come out to his amazing uncle.

“Well, that’s where things get a bit more complicated. You see, he also told me, and I know we both trust what he’s saying, that he knows for a fact that John is also gay.”

My heart skipped a beat. Both my twin sons were gay. I didn’t doubt the authenticity of what Yusuf was saying. Pete, sure. But John too? John had broken so many girls hearts! He’d never admit it to me, but I was pretty sure he’d bedded quite a few women in the short time he’d been at college! He was an athletic, attractive, alpha male, All-American jock!

And he was gay.

I simply couldn’t have any doubt of that. But, selfishly, this meant all my plans for the future, all those thoughts of their wives and potential grandchildren shifted in one swift moment. I’d never see them marry a woman or build their own family or have their own special moments with their own sons.

Pete and John were gay.

Both my sons.

Gay.

The look of shock must have registered with Yusuf because he soothed my concern quickly, “But you’re fine with that too. In fact, you’re so okay with both your twin sons being gay, you’d support them no matter who they decide to be with. No matter who they’re attracted to matters as long as they’re happy, right? You’d encourage them to seek whoever turns them on and makes them horny, right? Because people that make you horny obviously make you happy too. No matter who makes Pete’s wonderfully thick dick or John’s long white cock nice and hard will bother you because a fucking rock-hard, huge erection merely means they’re happy, right?”

There was no question in my mind what my response would be to that. Despite being a bit more course than I would have liked, Yusuf made a good point. I mean, Becky still made me as horny today as the day we’d met decades ago, and no one could ever make me happier than her. The fact that I had some of my happiest moments while being hard with her was obvious evidence of this fact. Of course I’d support whoever it was they may have crushes on…or wanted to have sex with.

Thoughts of who it could be came to mind…perhaps their best friends? John had always been inseparable from Caleb Birch, a boy that lived just down the street. While Pete got along with his brother’s friends too, he’d been much closer with another more introverted boy a couple blocks away named Lyle Wilshire. Maybe they’d been more than friends? Maybe they made my boys…happy? While they’d all been friends since childhood, I knew they still talked quite regularly from the different colleges they attended.

I was also quite sure they’d be home for Thanksgiving, as close to their families they’d always been too. Perhaps my boys had already planned to sneak off tonight to…get happy…and hard…with their best friends?

Smiling broadly, I responded, “Of course! I support them completely and unconditionally!”

I couldn’t help but think about John and Caleb kissing and Pete and Lyle holding hands. I could see it. It made sense. And maybe they’d even get married! Gay marriage was legal, so why not? John and Caleb Berger-Birch…Pete and Lyle Berger-Wilshire.

They’d definitely make attractive couples.

I couldn’t help but feel empowered by the thought that my boys might one day have a husband. They could even adopt! I mean, my initial fear was quite ridiculous, really. My boys were still clean-cut men. Of course they could settle down with one guy eventually and possibly provide Becky and I with children.

This entire change in our lives was actually really quite exciting when I really broke it down!

Yusuf smiled, that magnetic malevolence he always seemed to exude completely present, “That’s good to hear. Because the only men they’re attracted to, quite surprising to me, are the men in the family.”

I froze, all the hope I’d just built fading instantly.

“Wait, what?”

Yusuf, still comforting me with his arm around my shoulder adoringly, “They’re gay, Eddie, and only attracted to the male members of our family. Real big fetish for incest, those two. Pete told me the only guys that get his chode nice and hard are the men in the family. Kinda singularly focused sexual obsession on the men in the family, actually. Same goes for John, oddly enough.”

I couldn’t really contain all the shock I felt hearing that. Did John think about his brother instead of Caleb when he masturbated?! Did Pete think about his Uncle Yusuf rather than Lyle?

I mean, the evidence of Pete having just been groaning around his own uncle’s genitals a few minutes prior…

Wait…

Did they think about me?

Terror filled me. Could I actually be okay with my boys wanting to have sex with me?

Me?!

But then, with a calming breath, I relaxed. As quickly as the panic formed, my brain put a stop to it. A calm washed over me.

I had two gay sons. Gay twin sons. My gay twin sons were into incest. The men in the family made my twin gay sons horny.

And if they were horny, they were happy.

I wanted them happy.

Because I loved them.

Therefore, I wanted them horny too.

I knew I would have felt so much worse had Yusuf not reminded me that I’d support them no matter what. So they found their brother and their uncles and their…father…attractive? What was the big deal? They were happy! And, well, even if they acted on it, rationally, there wouldn’t be any risk of harm to a baby when two men had sex…

My boys want to have sex with me…

Panic quickly washed over me again as my brain fought with what I was trying to come to terms with.

“What do you think of that?” Yusuf asked, pulling me tight against his fat body and pushing my attention outside of my head.

The love radiating from my brother pushed through the thoughts invading my mind like a warrior pushing back a raiding hoard.

They were my boys. I loved and supported them.

No matter who they were attracted to.

Even me.

I smiled warmly, “Like I said, I support them no matter what. And, well, I’m not confused any more why he was between your legs! Being his uncle, it makes sense why he’d be sexually attracted to you, I guess. But I guess I am at least curious. Does that mean both Pete and John are attracted to…”

“You?” Yusuf finished my thought for me, “Oh, don’t worry about that. For whatever reason, they’re much more into every other male member of the family other than you.”

Relief washed over me. At the very least, I didn’t have to worry about my sons wanting to be with me in a biblical sense. Then a feeling of shame hit me that I felt that relief. Shouldn’t I want them to be horny for me if I’m in their family? Should I be happy that they’re not? Is it selfish of me to not want my boys to want me? Is being straight a good enough reason to not be sexual with the boys I love so dearly? Why did it hurt a little bit that my boys didn’t want to have sex with me?

A strange mix of emotions swept me: a calm contentedness in my boy’s homosexuality, a strange jealousy that they didn’t find me attractive, a pride that they were accepting themselves, and a deep understanding that if my father, my brothers, or their other twin turned them on, that would make them happy and I needed to support that.

“Besides, even if they don’t want you, they do want their grandpa, their other uncle, and their cousin. One another of course. But more than anything, Pete established, quite clearly, that John and him are practically obsessed with me sexually and want me exponentially more than the other members of our clan…”

I nodded, understanding the truth in what Yusuf was saying. Despite the still present curiosity around why they didn’t find me attractive, there was no doubt that they would want their Uncle Yusuf more than anyone else. They were gay and Yusuf was an absolute catch! I had always been baffled that Yusuf didn’t already have an army of men begging to be with him.

I laughed loudly, “I figured that last part out on my own. Pete was ravenous between your legs, bro! Clearly my gay boys would want such an amazing guy!

“It is all slightly weird for me, though. I mean, it’s all so sudden and I’m trying to absorb it all…but I mean, you’re right. I’m their father, I love them, and I want them happy. If you or Pops or hell, their own twin turns them on, I know that’ll make them happy to act on that.”

Then, like a fool, I realized why the two had wanted to ‘catch up’ downstairs, “Oh, so that’s why they were so eager to go downstairs together! Those sly devils. I can’t…no…I don’t even want to imagine what they’re up to now that the secrets out!”

Smirking, Yusuf stated, “Naw, bro. Admit it. You want to imagine it. I bet you can’t help yourself but imagine it. You may be straight, but thinking about what your boys want to do with me, each other, and the other members of the family is almost constantly at the forefront of your mind now, right? You can’t help but imagine all the sexual things your boys want to do to all of us.”

Just like that, all the confusion, emotions, and machinations in my mind were swept away by thoughts of Pete, in his new body, doing to John what he’d been doing to Yusuf. I could see the now muscular Arab man slobbering all over the large erection I’d seen in John’s pants as he walked by me. It wasn’t even that it turned me on by any means; I just couldn’t help myself. It was like a worm had wiggled into my brain and refused to leave. Straight or not, I couldn’t help but fantasizing about their gay exploits.

The vivid imagery in my mind, however, did bring up my other concern.

“You’re not wrong there, bro. I can’t help but think about the things they want to do to one another and you. But, well, I’m sorry if this is too forward, but why did you change Pete’s body? I mean, I thought it was hilarious that you changed mailman Eric, but why would you change your nephew?” I took a quick moment to mourn the loss of my physical similarities to Pete for a beat, surprising even myself at how much it was bothering me for some reason, “…I mean…he’s my son?”

Yusuf just stared, remaining somewhat uncomfortably close to me, and replied, “Well, Eddie, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, I stand out in this family. I’m the only one of us in the Berger clan that is Middle Eastern. I guess, well, I just wanted to not feel so weird and alone. You understand that, right? Now that you know, you’re completely okay with it now, correct? And proud of me for taking initiative to ensure I’m represented in this family.”

Thinking about Yusuf’s explanation…about how lonely he’d always been next door…about how he was the only member of the family who wasn’t blonde, blue-eyed, and Caucasian, well, I couldn’t help but empathize with him. It made perfect sense why he’d want to make another member of the family look more like him. I’d never really thought of him as anything other than my brother and it had never been strange to me that everyone else was quite pail Caucasians. I had no idea how alone that must have made him feel.

Reassuring him by pulling him in tight as well, the sadness I felt at losing all those parts of Pete that reminded me of myself at his age was replaced by a happiness that Yusuf finally had that same feeling. Even though his hair, complexion, body shape, and overall hairiness were far closer to Yusuf than me now, it was nice knowing my amazing brother could feel a part of this family in a physical sense just made me so happy for him.

“That makes so much sense. I’m happy that using your invention to make Pete look more like you can make you feel more represented in this family. Thank you so much for explaining it to me.”

“That’s fantastic to hear because I’m going to turn John next. Can’t have identical twins that don’t look identical! You, obviously, are excited to see that, aren’t you!?”

As bizarre as it was that such science-fiction was happening in my own home, I couldn’t deny the fact that Yusuf was right again. The twinge of the thought of losing my resemblance to both my sons, I was a bit excited to have him ensure my twins looked identical again. And if it made Yusuf happy, it would make me happy too.

Then I figured, if Yusuf was happy, he must be horny as well. That, for some strange reason, made me even more okay with John having his DNA rewritten.

Nodding enthusiastically, we stood up and began walking back downstairs. Halfway down the hall, however, a rogue thought appeared in my head, “Hey, bro. I know I’m okay with you changing my son’s appearance completely, but won’t it be confusing for everyone else? For Becky or Tonya or all their friends and professors?”

Yusuf just laughed, “That’s what the gloves are for, Eddie! There might be some confusion from time to time, but nothing my invention can’t tackle.”

Reassured that Yusuf had thought of everything, we eased our way downstairs. Crossing the entryway into the hallway, I heard the soft moans of my boys enjoying themselves. A bit of pride swelled in me knowing Yusuf had helped them accept their true selves and embrace their sexuality so openly.

Walking in, I could see the source of the pleasurable sounds we’d heard.

Pete was laying on his back on the couch with his discarded boxers on the floor next to him. John, too, had stripped completely nude and was laying in the opposite direction atop his twin.

Pete had positioned himself so his darker legs dangled off the armrest at the end of the couch and his head rested approximately one third the way down the couch.

John was lying on top of his brother, head buried between Pete’s legs at the end of the couch, actively slurping up and down on the shorter, thick meat. John’s hairless torse rested comfortably on the thicker, hairy chest of his brother while Pete’s mouth completely encased John’s penis.

They were clearly incredibly horny. And that made me incredibly happy for them.

My twin boys were 69ing in front of me on the couch, clearly feeling immense pleasure from their brother’s mouths. The contrast in skin tones was so much more evident now that the two were right on top of one another. Pete’s dark hair tickled at John’s pale, smooth skin where ever there was contact between the two.

Lost in the pleasure the two were giving one another, they continued without stopping until Yusuf walked over and, raising his hand high, swatted it down hard on John’s fleshy behind.

“Whoa!” John shrieked, pulling his mouth of his brother’s penis and seeing his uncle, “Oh, hi, Uncle Yusuf! We took your advice and were just ‘catching’ up.”

Pete, throat still full of cock, let out a small ‘mm-hm’.

“Good boys. But, well, we can’t have non-identical twins, now can we? You ready to change, John?”

Without skipping a beat, John dislodged his cock from Pete’s mouth (a long slurping sound accompanying the movement) and leapt to his feet suddenly.

“Fuck yeah, I am! Pete is beyond sexy! I can’t wait to look just like him again! And so much more like you, Uncle Yusuf! You’re so sexy! I can’t fucking wait please do it now, please Uncle Yusuf! Please!” John begged, sounding more like a needy toddler than the 18 year old man I knew him to be.

Yusuf grinned, “Okay, okay, calm down! You’ll look more like me in a few moments. I’m happy you know how great this change will be! And, what’s even more exciting, we’re going to make sure your father is gonna watch this one. We should all really give him an opportunity to see his boy change. He even told me he’s excited to see it happen!”

“Oh, wow, awesome! Thanks for supporting us, Dad. I know with Yusuf talking with you that we’d be safe to come out and act on our attractions. It’s so cool that you not only understand but support us! I just can’t wait to look more like Uncle Yusuf! I just know I’ll be ten times sexier because Uncle Yusuf is, by far, the sexiest member of the family,” John gushed.

A small sliver of sadness that my boy was excited to not look like me any longer flickered deep in my heart, but it was washed away as I saw how horny and happy my boy currently was, giant penis swaying and dripping with his brother’s saliva on our living room carpet.

“It is pretty fantastic of you to support our sexuality and our naughty perversion so fully, Dad. Like, Uncle Yusuf is the fucking best for letting us explore but you’re an amazing second best for sure. And, fuck, he’s the sexiest man on Earth and I’m so lucky I get to be related to him. And be his naughty nephew for him…” Pete agreed, sitting up on the couch and stroking his thick penis proudly.

Feeling the love in the room, I couldn’t help but tear up slightly as I took a seat in my leather chair, “Of course, boys! I would never ever imagine not loving and supporting you two. The fact you both love Yusuf as much as me…if in a slightly different way than me, at least…well, it just makes me so proud.

“So what if you’re gay and sexually attracted to each other! What does that really change about our relationship? I’m your father and I’ll support you forever. If you’re happy, I’m happy.”

The joy in the room palpable, Yusuf took a step forward, grasping John’s outstretched hand. It was so wonderful to see John allowing his loving uncle to fundamentally change his DNA just to ensure he looked more like him. The pride I felt for my boy was off the charts.

I stole a quick glance at Pete, noticing he was watching his brother and uncle as intensely as I was. In stark contrast, though, what was happening seemed to be understandably turning him on. He continued masturbating openly, giving me another sense of pride that my boy felt so comfortable being himself around me.

Shifting my attention back to Yusuf, I saw that, similarly to how everyone had reacted when he used his right glove on them, John calmed instantly the moment the left glove made contact. Yusuf, too, had his eyes roll back as he began utilizing his invention to morph my boy into a more similar-looking member of his family.

Before the inevitable shift started, I took a moment to look at my adult, nude son. It was the first time I’d ever seen him nude since he was very young when I’d bathed him and changed his diaper.

He, quite honestly, resembled me quite a bit when I was his age. He had a toned chest with slightly thick, hairless pecs. Small, pink nipples sat at the center without a single blemish to be seen. His strong shoulders expanded into sizable biceps and smooth, veiny arms and hands, indicative of his lithe strength.

His abdomen was quite toned, a light six-pack evident with the V-shape on either side showcasing his athletic body. Extending downward were relatively thick thighs and larger calves connecting to bigger-than-average hairless, white feet. His toes nestled at the end, looking like the adult version of the plump, pink piggies I’d tickled when he was a baby.

Between his legs, he had a long penis that looked to be an exact replica of Pete’s before Pete had been changed by Yusuf. Just like him, the veins emphasized just how long and hard he currently was. Now, though, I could see that he, like me, did have low-hanging balls dangling quite a bit below his pale-pink shaft. Smaller balls rested in the churning sac, still working on the load his brother had been nursing out earlier.

As I took in my boy, who was the spitting image of me in my early twenties, changes started to occur. First were his ocean-blue eyes which quickly darkened as if dyed black. Once his pupils darkened considerably, his pale skin around his eyes began to hyper-pigment and expand outwards. As he tanned, the light blonde eyebrows began turning black and thickening when touched by the changing skin. The hair on his head, too, darkened from the root and expanded upwards—thickening as it changed. Once fine and easily wind-blown hair was now heavy and thick, much like his uncle’s.

Then, as if he were in one of those Chia Pet commercials, black hair sprouted on the sides of his face and chin, growing outwards until a full beard framed his entire face, leaving an identical face to Pete that, while wildly different from before, still resembled my beloved son.

The pigment of his skin continued to darken as it spread downward, broadening his shoulders, his biceps, his pecs, and his chest as the dark hair appeared where none had been previously. His shoulders had a light dusting, but his chest and arms were absolutely covered in the thick bush.

As it continued spreading more and more downward, John began to expand outwards, matching the larger frame his brother’s new body had. His six-pack faded as a strong belly formed then became just as hairy as his humungous pecs. John’s upper half had inflated outwards a bit, taking his smaller, agile body and making it far more of a ‘dad-bod’ I’d seen more and more of. The slight track-and-field body he’d had previously was now much more ‘wide receiver’.

As the changes finished on his upper body, the same began happening down his thighs as they widened with new muscle. His skin continued to darken as it went down his legs, but the two sides met at the middle, beginning to change the large, white penis he had.

As it hit the base of his shaft, the penis expanded at first, looking like it would merely be a thicker version of the long cock he’d inhereted from me. But then, John’s penis began retreating into his body, shrinking and shrinking until he was left with around a four-inch erection that was three to four shades darker than it had been before. The darker skin continued to spread to the end of his dick as flesh grew over his angry pink glans, covering it with a dark brown foreskin.

As hard as he was, however, the newly formed foreskin did recede slightly, revealing a newly smooth, shiny cock head that was leaking slightly with pre-cum. I’d never been much of a leaker, myself, but perhaps Yusuf wanted my boys to be more like him in that department too? Was Yusuf even a leaker?

Did I even care?

Before I could focus on those questions for much longer, a wild mess of black pubes erupted around the smaller dick, surrounding his shaft in a wiry mess. The large, hairy jungle of pubic hair did nothing to enlarge the now shrunken cock, practically drowning the hard shaft and making it look even smaller than it actually was. Despite adding to his thickness, Yusuf had ensured my boys lost nearly half their size.

A small part of me thought that it was possibly a bit too far for Yusuf to go.

The much larger, more rational part of my mind knew Yusuf knew best and would shape my boy perfectly to match what he’d need to feel represented in this family.

As distracted as I’d been watching my son’s penis change, I’d missed his stronger, expanded calves grow as well as his bronzed, broadened feet shifting. The finishing touch, however, on my boy was the flourish of black hair blooming on the top of feet and toes, seemingly connecting the top of his head to his toes in a trail of hair.

Now a mirror of his twin brother yet again, Yusuf let go of my boy’s hand. John blinked a couple times, coming back to reality and looked down at his changed body.

“Holy fuck, Uncle Yusuf! You’ve made me a work of art! I’m so fucking hot! I feel…I feel so powerful! And so fucking sexy! I’ll never be able to thank you enough for making me so much sexier than I’d been before” John gushed, giving his smaller cock a few strokes.

Pete, clearly excited to be identical to John yet again, stood quickly and approached his doppelgänger, “Damn, John! I knew I’d been made infinitely sexier by Uncle Yusuf but seeing you…this is…fuck…this is so fucking sexy! You’re the absolutely one of the sexiest people in the world! Can I kiss him, Uncle Yusuf? I want to kiss my brother so badly! Please, Uncle? Please, please, please?! I know you’ll love watching us do it too, right Uncle Yusuf? We’re just your sexy nephews and we need to turn you on!”

Pete, sounding and acting so much more like John, truly surprised me. He had become an extrovert desperate for his uncle’s attention when he’d been such a meek man before, preferring to blend into the background.

What’s more, he was whining like a child for his uncle. The whiny tone seemed to egg on Yusuf, the front of his pants throbbing listening to his nephew beg like a needy brat. Their uncle looked as though he was on cloud nine knowing Pete wanted to turn him on.

Before I could tell Pete to stop his whining, John, too, began to beg, “Fuck, I want to kiss my brother while you jerk off, Uncle Yusuf. I want to turn you on so much. And, fuck, Pete, you turn me on too! Please, Uncle Yusuf? Pretty please! We want you turned on fucking bad, uncle! Pleeeeease?!”

To be frank, I couldn’t believe my normally very masculine and mature sons were behaving like desperate children. Sure, John had always been a jokester and Pete had kept to himself mostly. But they’d both been powerfully independent. They weren’t whiners…they were problem solvers and stood on their own feet.

Now, they were acting dependent on their uncle for their own happiness.

And horniness, obviously.

I wanted to speak up and tell them to act their ages and to stop bothering their uncle. But once I looked at Yusuf and saw how into their desperation for him they were, the objections to their behavior stopped deep in my throat.

Yusuf, not at all annoyed by their pleading, stood back and appraised his work on John, all the while my boys absolutely nagging him to let them kiss one another for his pleasure.

Then, with a small, satisfied nod, Yusuf allowed Pete to pass him and dive onto his brother.

The endless whining ended suddenly in a tangle of limbs, their mouths now completely occupied. The twins began grabbing at everything they could reach on their counterpart as the two viscously made out in front of us. Their dark beards mashed into one another as their hairy chests did the same, arms and hands flailing and prodding at everything within their grasp on the other.

As they moaned and groaned, I simply watched with an inner joy and excitement knowing my boys were living their sexual dreams now. They were clearly happy and horny. Yusuf had truly helped them accept and love themselves for who they were and, as their father, I was endlessly grateful.

As one of the twins (I couldn’t really be sure now which was which after their nude, chaotic groping of one another) got a firm hold of the thick asscheeks of the other while the other twin gasped from the new feelings.

“Holy shit, bro. Your hands squeezing my big, hairy ass feel so right. Don’t you think his strong, manly hands look amazing with a handful of my fat ass, Uncle Yusuf?” one of the twins asked.

“Yeah, uncle, do you like how I’m groping him? Do you want me to squeeze even harder? Do you want us to do more? Or do you want us to…maybe…include you too?” the other said, strongly hinting at his desire for his uncle to join in the sexual fun.

Yusuf, for his part, actually looked at me rather than the boys as he answered, “Yeah, I’d say we’re gonna need to have sex considering we all know that you two have wanted to have sex with me for years and years. Yup, definitely a secret desire my two pervy, incest-obsessed nephews have had for so long. I bet you two have been spying on your uncle next door and jerking your horny dicks over and over for so long now. It was definitely you two degenerates who imagined sucking and fucking me for so so long and we’re just letting you live out your fantasies.

“We might as well fulfill Johnny Boy’s and Petey Boy’s deepest, darkest wishes, don’t you think Eddie?”

I tore my eyes from my boys smashing their nude bodies against each other to respond, “Honestly, that sounds like the logical next step to ensure my boys are as happy as they can be.

“You are truly the most gracious and giving uncle my boys could hope for. I thought this would be an exciting Thanksgiving regardless, thinking Pete was going to ask my opinions on marrying Tonya and spending time together for the first time since Mom died, but this is far and beyond better than I could have imagined.

“I mean, look at them,” I pointed at the boys, who were focusing on mashing their replica cocks against one another while looking at their uncle for a reaction, “They’re happier, and obviously hornier, than I think I’ve ever seen them!”

Yusuf, spreading his legs wide on the couch as he stared at my boys frotting in front of him, responded, “You’re so welcome, Eddie. I’m glad I could help make them bring their sexual dreams a reality. I can tell they’ve fantasized about this for a long time. And, well, speaking of Tonya, how do you feel about your girlfriend now, Petey Boy?”

Without hesitation, the twin absolutely molesting his brothers large butt pulled away and looked over at his uncle, “Ew, Tonya is an icky woman. We’re done forever. I’m nauseous even thinking that she still is my girlfriend when I have my sexy uncle to sexually please instead. I’m only into big, hairy men. I’m done using her to hide that I’m just an incest-loving slut needy for my uncle. You’re so big and sexy and perfect, Uncle Yusuf! And, of course, my twin here is so fun to play with knowing you like it too. Tonya can fuck off forever.”

I was slightly aghast at how explicit Pete got describing the woman I thought he was going to marry. Seeing him latch back onto his brother’s quivering, desperate lips while glancing over at his uncle to make sure he was keeping Yusuf’s interest, however, I let that go.

Pete, and John for that matter, clearly only had love and lust for the men in the family. It made sense he’d say Tonya was unattractive now that he was being honest with himself and others.

“Good boy, Petey. I suppose I’ll fuck you first as a reward.”

Pete giggled as his brother’s tongue absolutely wrecked his mouth. John didn’t seem jealous, though. If anything, his continued worshipping of his brother’s body quickened, excited that his brother would get to ride their uncle’s cock soon.

“Now, look, I know we’re expecting, uh, what did you call him? Pops? And I guess our brother and my other nephew soon. I’d love to get a round of fucking in with the boys before they arrive. Really help them feel completely supported in their perverted sexual fantasy with me. I mean, I love my family more than anyone else! I wouldn’t dream of doing anything other than support my nephews. And fucking them is obviously the best way I could show my support!

“Plus, well, I have some more plans for messing with their minds before the rest of the family arrive…maybe even more members of the family we didn’t realize we had…so why don’t you give us some time alone?”

I nodded, watching my boys display their nude bodies and desire for one another in front of Yusuf. While I supported my boys in their sexual orientation and attractions, I was still straight. I didn’t really need to watch them having sex with one another or their uncle. While I wanted nothing more than to support their lusts, I definitely didn’t want to see it…even if I did have to admit I imagined it almost constantly.

“Sure, bro. I’ll head into the den and unwind while you three…”

“No, actually,” Yusuf started, as he motioned for my boys to come to him on the couch, “You need to go next door and grab the other set of gloves I made. I think now that you’ve seen me calm down your wife and your boys, I’m gonna let you do it to your…I mean our…father. I’ll, obviously, help guide you in that. But, well, I think it would be really amazing and, well, erotic, if you changed him for me so I can continue having fun with the boys.”

I thought about his command and, well, it made sense. I’d already conceded after he’d changed Becky that it was beneficial for him to change the minds of our family if it seemed necessary. If he was going to support John and Pete in their sexual exploits, he really shouldn’t have to stop just to possibly have to do the same thing to Pops and Fred.

While Yusuf told the boys to kneel in front of him and pull out his cock so they could give him what he called a ‘twin bj’, he shooed me away. Glancing down just as one of the twins snapped Yusuf’s rock-hard penis out the front his pants as the other moaned at the sight of his uncle’s erection, I quickly followed my brother’s direction.

With the slurping sound of two mouths going to town on my brother’s cock and balls resonating from the living room and into the entryway, I made my way out the front door. Instantly, as I so casually always seemed to do, I began imagining what it looked like in the room next to me. Images of my amazing brother leaning back, allowing Pete and John to fully worship his penis invaded my mind.

I could see Pete lapping at a hairy set of balls that looked similar to the pair that Yusuf had given him and his twin.

I could see John gagging on Yusuf’s thick meat, likely a similar size to the cock he’d ensured my boys now wielded.

A smile formed on my face as I exited the house, practically skipping across the lawn to Yusuf’s house. It felt so good finally knowing the truth about my boys. I felt an endless amount of thanks for my brilliant, compassionate, patient, and intelligent brother.

My boys truly couldn’t have asked for a better uncle more willing to support their every want and need.

 

Their Father, Yusuf

Opening the front door of Yusuf’s house was a bit of a bizarre feeling. Here I was, entering my favorite brother’s home, literally next door, and I realized I’d never actually been in here. I loved and supported him, quite frankly, more than anyone else and yet nothing about his home looked familiar at all to me. I couldn’t rationally explain why I’d never been in his home.

Had I always made my brother come to my house? Had I never offered to come over?

Walking in, however, an even bigger question sprang to life in my head.

Had I never helped him clean up this pigsty?

A disgusting mixture of mildew, garbage, and the usual BO my brother carried with him filled my nostrils. It wasn’t quite enough to make me gag, but I sure didn’t want to be breathing in the stench too long.

Pushing aside my disgust, I set my mind on the goal of grabbing his gloves and getting back over to my family. Closing the door behind me, I looked around the entryway. Scanning the space, I truly had no idea where to even begin.

I had realized on the way over that, quite stupidly, I hadn’t asked Yusuf where his extra set of gloves may be, nor had he told me. Rather than interrupting the amazing (and perverted) incestuous sex he was gifting my boys so generously, I figured I’d at least know the layout and could decipher where he’d been doing his inventing based on that.

Despite the chaos of the space, I knew his house was built similarly to mine, as were most of the houses in our little suburb, so I knew that straight ahead was his dining room and kitchen. Stairs led upwards to a hallway with a few rooms to the right and to the left, there was the large living room space.

Here, in the entryway, I could make out countless empty pizza boxes, fast food wrappers, and various other piles of garbage thrown around the room. I could also make out a bunch of random books, bags, and garments casually thrown on heaps, leaving large scores of random materials.

Feeling a little overwhelmed with the task at hand, a smile spread as I thought, yet again, about Pete and John having sex with Yusuf right now in our living room. I couldn’t really help but imagine my boys having sex, even if I was their heterosexual father. It just made me feel so hopeful knowing my boys were so happy and horny, just as Yusuf had said.

As I thought about one of my twins fucking himself on Yusuf’s cock (an image that was slightly hard for me to picture as I’d only had a brief millisecond glance at my brother’s tool), I decided where I’d go for my first sweep. The calming image of my nude boys satisfying their every lust kept me calm as I set out straight ahead towards the kitchen where I knew there was a door down to the basement, the space I was guessing had to have been where Yusuf had set up his workshop. It’s where I’d do my tinkering in my home, after all.

Rummaging through the entryway and into the dining room, I tried to avoid the stacks of paper, unopened mail, and discarded trash that lined the walls. As much as I loved my brother, I couldn’t deny the fact that he seemed to lack any housekeeping skills and likely had a minor case of hoarding.

Seeing the space that my family and I had had countless wonderful meals together in our variant of this room, I could tell Yusuf didn’t have the same set up. There was no large dining room table with matching chairs where he could fit his entire beloved family. There was no hutch filled with the plates and glasses that were our families’ heirlooms. There was no inviting presence that just allowed him to laugh and chat and bond with his family.

No, there was nothing but boxes, random broken furniture, and an accumulation of junk in various states of deterioration filling the space with only a narrow path down the center which led to the kitchen. It was nearly impossible to move through the debris without knocking random crap over or shifting the mess, but I tried to quickly make way through. I knew I had to at least try to get into the kitchen and downstairs, so I started making my way.

After about ten minutes traversing 20 feet from the entryway to the kitchen, I gazed inside. My heart sank as I realized the kitchen was even worse off. Ditching the plan to go downstairs, seeing that there was literally no way I’d be able to get to the door, let alone open it, I made my way back towards the entryway.

Reentering the entryway, I glanced at the stairs heading to the second floor. While appearing to be traversable, I knew it would take some time to make my way up them, so decided against searching that floor for now.

So, I turned towards the room we kept as a living room in our home and made my way through the archway and small hallway.

Walking in, I was left in awe at what I was seeing.

While still quite messy, it was slightly less so than the rest of the house. The space felt far more ‘lived in’ and indicated to me that this one room was likely where Yusuf spent most of his time. A small cot was nestled against the wall where we kept our couch in our home, a workbench with random assortments of metals, tools, and diagrams was on the back wall next to the bathroom door, which was wide open and absolutely disgusting looking inside. There was a huge computer system next to it, likely where Yusuf drafted up all his theories and ideas.

None of that was what left me feeling awe-inspired, however. It was what Yusuf had hanging on nearly every empty space on the wall that did that.

Other than the random diagrams surrounding the workbench, the walls were absolutely filled with candid photos of me and my boys from the past few years. Scanning the room, it was almost dizzying seeing how many pictures he’d taken of Pete, John, and me.

Looking away from the overwhelming number of pictures, I could see the camera at the window facing our home that Yusuf had likely set up to get the photos lining his wall. Next to the camera was a telescope that seemed to be pointed up at the windows on the second floor of my house; more than likely either Pete’s or John’s rooms.

Intrigued, I stepped forwarded, walking over a large pile of clothes, my attention drawn to a photo set of me. It appeared to be me in my robe grabbing the newspaper on the front lawn some early morning. From the angle, I could tell he’d taken it from the camera in his window. I was shirtless beneath the robe, showing my attractive muscular chest between the fabric. Only in my boxer briefs, you could also make out a sizable lump between my legs. I generally only went out so minimally clothed when I was sure no one would be around. Clearly, Yusuf had caught me!

Next to those pictures was a few of me walking along between our houses as I made my way to the gate to our fenced pool. I wasn’t entirely sure, but this was likely taken a few years ago when, after a particularly large bonus, I’d put in a pool in the backyard. Becky, the boys, and I used it quite regularly in the beginning, now not as much so. But, at the time, we’d built a large fence because we didn’t necessarily want prying eyes spying on us so scantily clad. Looking back, I wasn’t entirely sure who those ‘prying eyes’ we’d been worried about had been, but I smiled a little knowing Yusuf had taken a picture of me without my knowledge.

Glancing about, another set caught my eye, it was clearly pictures of Pete (based on the positioning of the window) in the process of changing in his bedroom. There was a couple dozen of him shirtless, around fifteen of him in just his underwear, and a couple of his bare ass bending over. Clearly, Yusuf had caught him stripping nude while getting ready for a shower or bed, but seeing my boy’s pale white butt in the pictures reminded me of two things: the sex he was likely having now with his brother and uncle and the way he used to look so much more like me.

Distracting myself from thinking too hard on my boys changed appearances, I forced my attention back over to the workbench. I could tell that this was where Yusuf spent most of his time. His large computer set up was confusing to a tech novice like me, and the random machines and peripherals attached to it merely overwhelmed me. But to someone as impressive and intelligent as Yusuf, it was obvious he’d find success with any inventions he’d come up with using a mind-blowing set up like this.

Picking up a stack of papers, I shuffled through them. Many were diagrams and blueprints for random machines. I read through a few titles, smiling at the creativity of my brother. ‘Reality Distorter’ was at the top. Underneath it, the inventions seemed to get more and more sex-based: ‘Homosexual/Pervert Maker’, ‘Fetish Enforcer’, ‘Slut Beam’, ‘Libido Increaser’…

Setting down the various ideas, my eyes were drawn to the image of the gloves I’d seen on Yusuf. At the top, I found out their name: ‘Mind/Body Shifters’. Looking at the various notes around the blueprint of the gloves, I could tell he’d taken a lot of his ideas from the plans I’d just looked at as I read, ‘make them gay’, ‘give them fetishes’, ‘up their sex drive’, ‘rewrite their memories’ pointing towards the right glove.

‘Change their physical appearance’, ‘make their balls over-produce’, ‘ensure they look like me’ pointed towards the left glove. There were various other technological mumbo-jumbo phrases and indications of the power his gloves gave him that went right over my head. But, damn, it seemed he’d invented quite a powerful set of mitts!

Then, at the bottom, in all caps, he’d written and circled multiple times in red:

I’LL BE ABLE TO MAKE THEM MY FAMILY

I scoffed a bit at the sentence. Make them my family? Who was he even talking about? Yusuf already had a family and we loved him more than anyone else could. Why would he be making anyone else his family when he had us?!

Setting the paper down, I made it my goal to ensure Yusuf felt every bit of love, support, and compassion I could muster for him when I got back over to him and the boys. If he had made these gloves in order to get himself a new family, I had to make sure he knew, without any doubts, that he already had a perfect family for him.

As the shame and guilt swelled in my chest that I could have possibly made Yusuf feel as though he needed to form a new family, I spied the new set of gloves dangling off the edge of the other end of the workbench. Grabbing them, I noticed he’d also been constructing another pair as well. I wondered why he needed multiple pairs but didn’t worry too much about it. If Yusuf was doing something, there was little doubt there was a good reason.

Lord, I loved my brother.

Reenforcing my commitment to ensuring he felt safe and supported in the family he already had, I started towards the door. Then, another set of photos I hadn’t noticed when I first walked in caught my eye. These were right by the workbench, surrounded by various notes and blueprints. They blended in a little bit, but now that I was here, it was undeniably pictures of one of the twins. Seeing the worn-out sweatpants around his ankles in the pictures, I was sure it was John. He loved those ratty old sweatpants and had worn them for years.

I counted a dozen pictures interspersed among the plans, almost as if they were motivational posters. They were of John, standing in what looked like our first-floor bathroom off the living room. As I’d first noticed, his sweatpants were at his ankles. He was shirtless, standing over our toilet. His long, soft cock in his hands.

In a few pictures, he was merely standing there, looking down into the toilet. But in most of them, a steady stream of piss was coming out of his circumcised penis. There was little doubt what Yusuf was keen on seeing as several photos were zoomed in to get a good view of my son’s penis and testicles.

It was clear Yusuf had taken his camera, snuck onto the other side of our house, stood in the window, and secretly photographed my boy taking a piss.

A new feeling began to blossom in my chest. It was strong and passionate and radiated throughout the nerves of my body until my brain felt fuzzy and light. I felt a small shiver at the base of my spine as a single tear formed in my left eye. As it fell, one singular thought echoed in my brain:

Yusuf was an undeniably loyal, amazing, perfect brother and uncle.

I mean, why else would my brother have countless covert photos of us lining his walls? Especially a set of them that were so obviously from a very private moment? The only explanation was that he loved us all so much that he couldn’t help but dedicate all this space and time to his brother and nephews. He loved us so much he couldn’t help but even seek out photos of us at our most vulnerable. Why else would he have a picture of his nephew using the bathroom?!

I was truly so honored to have such a devoted brother and uncle for my children. Seeing all these pictures only solidified my opinion of the devoted family man Yusuf truly was. Not only was he lining his walls with pictures of us we didn’t even realize he was taking, but he was currently letting both my boys live out their sexual fantasies with him and each other just a few walls away from me right now. I had to ensure he knew he was already in a family that wanted him. Needed him.

Wiping the proud tear from my cheek, I tried to focus on the task at hand. I made my way, gloves in hand, back over to the entrance, ensuring I didn’t trip over the various hazards on the way.

I eased my way back out the front door, letting in a deep breath the moment I stepped outside. Despite loving my brother deeply, even I couldn’t lie and say his house smelled any better than a septic tank. I was undeniably happy to be out of there and heading back home. I’d probably only spent a good twenty to thirty minutes in Yusuf’s home, but it was almost as if I’d been drowning and now, I was getting some much-needed fresh air once again.

Walking along his unkempt lawn and onto my own which was recently mowed, I fiddled with the gloves slightly. It was amazing what my brilliant brother had made! These things could, according to him and the notes I’d read, completely re-write a person! I was holding an immense amount of power in my hands at this very moment.

God, my brother was an impressive man!

Before I entered my home, I glanced at our neighbors on the opposite side of where Yusuf lived. Hank White, my neighbor and friend of about seven years now, was standing out on his porch smoking a cigarette, a particularly nasty habit he’d told me time and time again he was trying to stop. We were close to the same age so we’d bonded over being fans of the same football team and being the father of two boys. His sons were a little bit older than my twins, but they both still lived in the same town with their wives and small children. For all intents and purposes, they seemed like loyal sons to their parents.

Hearing the screams of those grandchildren radiating from his home, I figured he was taking a quick break from the stress of prepping the family meal, so I smiled at him broadly. I gave him a little wave but could see that he was staring at me looking confused as he blew out a cloud of smoke.

“Hey Edgar. Uh, did I just imagine that you were actually just in Yusuf Wasfi’s house?” Hank hollered sounding both shocked and confused for some reason.

“Yeah! But can’t stay and chat, he sent me on a quick errand and gotta get back to the family. Happy Thanksgiving!” I smiled back.

“Uhhh…sure. Yeah…” I heard him mutter back, “We can talk later.”

Ignoring my friend’s strange response, I hurried to the doorknob and turned it quickly.

The moment I entered the door, the glorious sound of grunting, moaning, and slapping of skin against skin echoed from the living room into the entryway. My ever-present smile widened imagining which of my family members were causing the different noises.

Not wanting to waste Yusuf’s time by lollygagging with the task he’d set me on, I made my way into the room eagerly, excited to figure out if the images I’d crafted based on the sounds of sex were accurate or not.

I took a moment to really take in the amazing sight as I entered. It was clear that all three men were experiencing a level of bliss that had been years in the making. John and Pete were clearly finally experiencing the most erotic moments of their lives. There was no doubt at all that, as Yusuf had said, my boys had been fantasizing about what was happening for a long period of time before this.

One of my boys was on Yusuf’s lap, actively riding his uncle’s cock as Yusuf sat in my favorite leather chair leaned back but with the footrest down.

Up and down and up and down my boy went, obviously absolutely loving the feel of Yusuf’s dick up his ass as he fucked himself facing away from his uncle. Based on the angle, there was little of Yusuf I could actually see, but I knew the skin-on-skin slapping had to be the giant, hairy ass slamming against my obese brother’s belly and thighs while my son rode him.

My boy’s eyes were rolled in the back of his head and his mouth frozen in a giant ‘O’ as the neurons in his brain were clearly fried from the pleasure of his uncle’s dick deep in him. His cock was practically drooling sexual fluids, drenching his huge balls, thighs, and Yusuf’s lap in the evidence of his gratification. My chair, too, seemed drenched in reproductive fluid. As I watched, another large gloop of wetness oozed out of his foreskin and dribbled down the thick, short meat. The wetness mixed in with his already drenched huge, hyperpigmented balls, churning away actively within the massive scrotum.

My other boy was standing, well, squatting next to the chair so that he could lean over his uncle’s chest and make out with him while it gave Yusuf’s fingers access to his opened rectum. From the entrance, all I could really see of my boy was his huge ass-cheeks being fondled by Yusuf’s right hand while his fingers played with and inserted themselves into his hole.

I couldn’t really see Yusuf or my boy’s face at all, as their heads passionately twisted attempting to get their tongues into every single crevice of the other’s oral cavity. My boy was slightly thrusting back and forth and side to side on Yusuf’s fingers, which remained deep in his butt even while the rest of Yusuf’s hands squeezed the hairy, fatty tissue. My son’s muscular thighs were strained keeping him aloft at this angle and allowing his uncle access to his ass.

Surprisingly, even from the back, I could see the drippings from this twin’s dick too, actively pooling at his feet and wetting the side of my chair as my boys’ dick was likely thrusting into the armrest as he wriggled on Yusuf’s fingers. I couldn’t be entirely sure if this was all pre-cum or if my boy had orgasmed already, but it was surprising to see so much male fluid. The smell of the salty masculine juices filled the room, and it was obvious that both my boys were easily causing it.

I allowed the pride of my boys looking so insanely happy (and horny) wash over my completely. The trio was so lost in their sexual exploits, they hadn’t even noticed me enteriting. Yet again, a tear formed as I watched the wanton homosexual sex before me. Yusuf was truly blowing their minds with the sexual thrill as the one fucking himself on his cock moaned loudly and the other one being fingered let out ‘mmm’s almost constantly.

Then, the one that was riding his uncle, shifted slightly as his body convulsed and strained as he shouted, “Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum again soon! I can feel it! The big balls you gave me, are so full of cum, Daddy! Oh, fuck, Daddy! Your cock feels so good in me! So gah-good and deep! It’s your hole, Daddy!! IloveyouDaddyIloveyouDaddyIloveyouDaddy!!! Oh my God, I’m cumming!!!”

And then, the 4-inch thickness between his legs seemed to harden beyond belief while my boy stroked himself slightly, allowing his large foreskin to slide beneath his smooth glans, and white manseed began shooting out like a high-pressured sprinkler. With loud ‘splat’s, the massive load splashed into the carpet over and over, drenching the space on and around my chair in semen. I wasn’t sure how many times my boys had orgasmed since I was gone, but clearly it was quite a few times given the immensely hyperpigmented, wet carpet all around.

I watched with a loving smile as my boy kept shooting his jizz while still fucking himself on his uncle’s dick. And then, like a lightbulb, the words my boy had shouted suddenly hit my brain. Had he, within the intensity of his orgasm, called Yusuf ‘Daddy?’

I knew there was a certain group of people that may call their sexual partners ‘Daddy’. But this didn’t seem like it was a mere pet name. There was something oddly paternal in the way my boy had said it. Rather than merely using a sexy term, it sounded like the cumming man had meant it. As if he was calling Yusuf…his father?

Before I could truly react to my son seemingly calling his uncle his father, my other son arched his head away from Yusuf’s mouth and began panting loudly. His knees looked weak and wobbly as he leaned into the invading fingers even harder, really getting them deep in his ass. Suddenly, with a whimper, he whined, “Oh fuck, Daddy. You’re gonna make me cum again too. Your fingers belong in me, Daddy! You’re hitting my…mmm…my boy button so good. Mmmm…fuck, Daddy…fuck, I’m close! Yeah, right there! Right there, Daddy! Oh fuck, Daddy! I fucking love you, Daddy!! Fuck! Fuuuuck!”

Once again unable to process what the implication of my boy calling Yusuf ‘Daddy meant before I was distracted by the familial orgasm, I walked into the room slightly. The orgasm that hit my second son while my first was still spewing was out of my view as well. Still, from this angle, I could see the one who’d just announced his orgasm groping at Yusuf’s large, fat, hairy pecs with both hands, hearing more than see the massive load that shot out of my squatting boy’s cock. With a few squelches, I knew he was spraying a massive amount of cum onto his uncle’s chest, the arm of my chair, and the side. His hips thrusted forward and backward, shooting while he allowed the leather of my favorite chair to do the stroking. From the way Yusuf’s other arm not attached to the hand currently ravaging my boy’s hole was positioned, it seemed Yusuf was playing with the spasming, cumming cock too. Eventually, I saw white thickness dripping down the black leather on the side of the chair, dripping down onto the already oversaturated fibers of the carpet.

This time, there was no doubt that my boy had referred to Yusuf as his father. There was a familial comfort in the way they moaned it rather than any kind of flirtatious sexual nickname. Before he’d left, they were calling him Uncle Yusuf over and over again. Now they were saying Daddy the same way they’d been saying that? It couldn’t have been a change in their opinion or the temptation to call him something else.

Had Yusuf changed them even further?

Had he made them think he was their father?!

“Eh-hem,” I cleared my throat rather loudly, the standing twin still spewing while he turned to look at me and the one on Yusuf’s lab bringing his attention my way, eyes heavy with orgasmic pleasure.

“Oh hi, Uncle Eddie! Daddy was just, mmm,” the boy on Yusuf’s cock swirled his body around, clearly enjoying the feel of his uncle deep within his ass, “just treating us to a good fuck session. Oh Uncle Eddie, Daddy’s cock feels…holy shit…feels so goooood in me.”

His cock, which had just vomited an insane amount of cum, was still hard and dripping. Whatever Yusuf had done to my boys, they clearly had otherworldly libido and an unnatural ability to cum over and over again. The amount of jizz their balls were constantly producing was impossible to a normal body.

But what was more, his son confirmed what he’d already put together. He called me ‘uncle’! What? Why would Yusuf have done this? Why would he make Pete and John think that he was their father and me, their actual father, only their uncle?!

“Lean back, Johnny Boy, I think your uncle might want to talk to me,” Yusuf said. The one that had been leaning over Yusuf, stood up straight, his cock still dribbling more of his cum as he turned towards me, standing with his muscular legs spread at a wide gait, showing off his entire wide nude, hairy body without shame. He was panting slightly, his beard covered in saliva, a mixture of his own and Yusuf’s. His large chest heaved as he played with his still spasming penis with one hand and groping at his massive hairy balls with his other.

Unable to really focus on John or Pete, I stared, shocked, at Yusuf. I could see now that he was doused in sweat and cum. His dark chest hair was matted and twisted all about. My boys had to have been playing with their uncles’ fat belly and thick pecs quite a bit to get his dark hair twisted about in the way it looked now.

Like John, his mouth and beard were incredibly moist looking, covered in drool from my captivated son. His chubby cheeks were reddened from the exertion of satisfying my two energetic sons and his hair was incredibly disheveled.

Fixing my gaze on his smirking face, I muttered, “What do you mean ‘uncle?’ Why…why are you and the…my boys calling me uncle? Yusuf…did you…did you make them think…”

“That I’m their father?” Yusuf asked with a mocking tone.

I nodded dumbly, unsure what to even say to something that seemed so obvious to me. Why would my beloved brother try to take my boys? Why would he make them think he was their father and not me?

“Hmmm, I wonder how we can figure this out? I mean, you seem so confused, Eddie,” Yusuf said in a mock tone, reaching out to stroke John’s ass cheek, “I know! Hey boys? Can you tell him who your father and uncle is here, just so we can clear the air? You two would obviously know who your own Daddy is, right?”

My heart felt heavy knowing what I was about to hear as John, leaning into Yusuf’s hand as the man I knew to be his uncle grasped his huge ass tightly, answered him, “You’re being so silly, Uncle Eddie! Of course he’s our Daddy! There’s no way you could be our Daddy! You’re just our silly uncle. No one takes as good of care of us as Daddy! I don’t love anyone more than my Daddy!”

“Yeah!” Pete echoed as he began fucking himself up and down on Yusuf’s lap again, “Daddy is the only person that knows what we like and need the most! He’s the best! You’re just our silly uncle. I mean, look at us! We look nothing like you! We’re sexy boys like our super duper sexy Daddy!”

Yusuf smirked, letting go of John’s butt and giving it a hard smack, “Well if that doesn’t answer your question, I don’t know what would! They weren’t confused about who their father was, so I had no need to change that, now did I? I mean, they’re 18 years old! Why wouldn’t they know their own father by now? I’m getting quite concerned about your delusion here, Eddie. You know full well that I’m their father and you’re their uncle.”

Feeling dumbfounded and knowing I likely looked the same, I glanced back and forth between my two boys. Pete wasn’t wrong, in the end. They were dark haired, dark-eyed, broad, hairy, muscular Middle Eastern looking men. Yusuf may be obese and much less fit than the two of them, but they did resemble their uncle far more than they resembled me, a blonde, blue-eyed Caucasian.

But they were my sons!

Even if they were behaving so much less mature and intelligent than I always had known them to be. They were certainly a far cry from the boys I had this morning, before Yusuf arrived for the family gathering. Pete, my shy, kind-hearted, devoted son, was now actively ramming a cock up his butt with a stupid grin on his face that betrayed the intelligence I knew he had. And John, the independent, witty, straight heartbreaker was melting into his own uncle…father…while covered in his own cum and staring down at Yusuf like he owned him.

Yusuf had to have changed them again!! Like he’d done earlier with Becky and the boys…but why would he need to change more? He’d already calmed them! They already knew they needed to love him! He’d already allowed them to live out their sexual incest fantasies! Making them his sons just seemed so beyond what my amazing brother would do to me!

“Why…?” was all I could muster as I fixed my ogling back on Yusuf. Now that John had stood aside, I got my first real look at him.

As Pete continued using the cock for his pleasure, Yusuf began to casually thrust into him, his fat feet firmly planted on the wet floor beneath him and his huge thighs straining into my athletic son’s gigantic ass.

Yusuf gave me another devilish smirk at me. Despite loving him deeply, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of deviousness in the smile.

Increasing his light fucking of Pete, “Why? You’re really asking why? Eddie, Eddie, Eddie! Remember, I only tell you the truth, right?! You know I’d never gaslight you. I know you’ve enjoyed pretending these were your sons because you never had any of your own and want such attractive, sexy, perfect sons just like them, but, frankly, it’s getting a little…hmph…” he paused, focusing on his fucking for a moment as Pete increased his pace, “a little creepy. I’d never gaslight you, Eddie. But you’ve clearly gaslit yourself!

“I mean, Petey and Johnny here look so much more like me! You know, deep down, there’s no way they could be your sons. Regardless of what you may have thought…mmmmm…before. They simply can’t…hmph…by yours. They’re clearly…hnng…mine…hmph…right? Oh God, Eddie, I n-need to hear you s-say it! They’re m-m-mine!”

I felt what could only be described as a head-tsunami of utter confusion hearing what Yusuf was telling me. Conflicting thoughts, emotions, and memories bounced around my head as he spoke to me. I could remember being in the hospital with Becky when she gave birth, already knowing we’d name them Jonathan Steven, after Becky’s grandfather and father, respectively, and Peter Robert, after my own grandfather and father…although I suppose Yusuf’s father was also my father. So Pops was his grandfather regardless…

But they’d looked more like me earlier today, hadn’t they? Didn’t Yusuf change them so he didn’t feel left out? Didn’t we discuss that as the reason he wanted to change them?

But also, Yusuf never lies. I know this to be a fact. Even with all the evidence in the world against him, I know he’d never steer me wrong…

So were Pete and John my kids? Could it be that they’d been Yusuf’s and I’d pretended to be their father?

“I, um…guess you’re their…father?” I said with little certainty.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shiiiiit!” Yusuf screeched, bucking into Pete while my…well…Yusuf’s boy smiled broadly.

“Oh my fucking gosh, Daddy! I feel you…I feel your dick shooting your Daddy-seed deep in my happy hole!! I’m gonna fucking cum again!!” Pete gushed, bucking even harder on Yusuf while stroking his cock.

Just as he’d said, Pete began to shoot his own load yet again, just a few minutes after his previous huge load. There was little doubt how the carpet and chair had become so completely drenched in Berger DNA. The twins could shoot over and over again it seemed.

A few moments later, Yusuf stopped gyrating into Pete’s hole, his body relaxed into the chair. Slapping at Pete’s back, he said, “Oof. I’m spent. So get the fuck off, dumbass. I need a breather after that.”

“Okay, Daddy!” Pete responded cheerfully, unaffected at all by Yusuf calling him a dumbass.

Without a moments delay, Pete hopped off Yusuf’s cock wearing a huge smile. Even though he was still masturbating and cumming himself, he clearly wasn’t going to disobey Yusuf.

I took a moment to take in Yusuf’s nude body. I’d seen a glimpse of his cock before I’d left, but seeing it now, I could see the inspiration he’d had when he changed Pete and John. He did have a very thick, uncircumcised cock that was still quite hard but shrinking. He was likely a good five or six inches, so slightly longer, but equally thick as the twins. His, too, stuck straight out, but with his giant belly, it was hidden slightly at the base. The intense amount of dark black pubic hair, too, hid quite a bit of his length. All told, I knew I was definitely around three inches longer than him, but his thickness, like Pete and John now, had me beat.

Stretching out his legs now that Pete was done skewering himself on his meat, “Fuck, Eddie. It was hot to hear you say that. Even though I can imagine your brain is a jumble of confusion, it’s good to hear you admit your boys…I mean my boys…are, indeed, mine.”

For a moment, I just stood there awkwardly, still feeling so confused about everything that was happening. Watching Pete and John stare down at Yusuf with hunger in their eyes, stroking their completely saturated meat, I felt a mix of happiness that they so obviously loved him and sadness that they didn’t seem to care I was even there.

Was I not their father?

“Now, boys. Remember what your Daddy told you before. I gave you boys exactly what you wanted so now you gotta give your Daddy your end of the bargain. Head on up to your rooms and make sure you say anything you can to get them over here. Understand?”

I wasn’t sure what Yusuf was talking about, but Pete and John both nodded enthusiastically. They both turned and walked towards the entryway, unbothered that they were nude while completely covered in sweat and cum.

As they were heading out, walking hand in hand like school children, John smiled dumbly at Yusuf, “Of course, Daddy! But can you fuck me with that amazing dick when we come back? Petey was hogging it the whole time and I want a turn.”

Pete smacked John with the back of the hand that wasn’t already in John’s, “Nah-uh! I wasn’t hogging it! Daddy told me I got to get fucked first! I was just doing what Daddy wanted!”

“Well so fucking what? You still got to feel him pushing your boy button in your happy hole with his Daddy-dick and I didn’t!”

“Yeah, but you got to make out with Daddy the whole time while he fingered your boy button so stop complaining! You’re being a fucking greedy dumb-dumb!”

The two continued bickering as they exited, surprising me with the mixture of profanity and immaturity. Still hearing them argue as they walked upstairs, Yusuf turned to me, “My boys sure are little scamps, aren’t they bro? But they just love their Daddy so much, what can I say?”

Still frozen, I gave a sad smile and an overwhelmed little, “…Yeah.”

Yusuf glared at me and pouted his lip slightly, “Aw, bro! You seem down. Why don’t you sit down here on the couch and we can work it out. Really talk out your issues with what you just saw.”

Yusuf leaned forward from my leather armchair, reached out, and patted the couch with his hand, noticeably asking me to sit where he’d been when he first entered earlier that morning.

Nodding slowly, feeling like a traumatized victim for some reason, I walked slowly to the spot. Setting the gloves on the coffee table and easing myself down, I looked over at him. I knew I likely looked shell-shocked, but I just couldn’t make heads or tails of what had just happened. I needed my brother to help ease me into what was going on.

He’d help me.

“So tell me, what’s the problem. You aren’t still fantasizing about those sexy boys being yours, are you? I mean, I get it. They’re hot as fuck, even for a hetero like you. But they’re clearly my progeny,” Yusuf said matter-of-factly and calmy, leaning forward with his large arms resting on his knees.

“Well, I’m not sure…I seem to remember that…well…Becky and I…I…I…” I stuttered, not sure how to put to words the jangled mess happening in my mind. Frustrated with my inability to explain, I put my face in my hands and stuffed down the temptation to cry.

“You know, bro,” Yufus stated, placing his hand on my shoulder, “I think I know what might help. You just seem so disorganized. And, well, we gotta prepare for Pops to arrive anyway. Would you maybe want me to help you? Like I did with Becky and my sons earlier?”

I looked up suddenly when he said ‘my sons’, shocked to hear it once again. But why was I shocked? Were they his? Weren’t they mine?

Why was this all so confusing?!

He tipped his head to the hand that was on my shoulder. Glancing over, I could see his glove.

Yes!

His glove could put things right!

My bro would be my savior yet again!

“Oh would you, Yusuf? Please? If you used the glove on me, you could help me figure out what’s been going on. I mean, I honestly can’t fathom how Pete and John are your kids knowing that Becky had them and that I was their father but I’m their uncle and you’re their uncle and you said you’re their dad and you don’t lie and I can’t…I can’t…I can’t…”

“Shhhhh,” Yusuf said, lifting his gloved hand and placing it on my wrist.

And just like that, a bright halo appeared in my eyesight as I was frozen, staring at Yusuf’s eyes rolled back in his head. Like I had felt earlier that day, it was almost as if my mind was being expanded in a way that allowed Yusuf to clear out the clutter. It was a strange yet calming feeling, as if the confusing bits that brought me so much discontent was being placed where it needed to be deep with my subconscious. I didn’t know what was happening or how until…

…I was blinking, watching my brother Yusuf release his hand and smile at me after what felt like only a few seconds.

“Now. How you feeling, Uncle Eddie?”

I took a long deep breath, loving the simple calm I felt when I was around my brother.

“I’m feeling fantastic, bro. Like I always do when we hang out. Why do you ask?”

With a knowing smile, “Just wondering. Why don’t you tell me what you just saw since you got back with the glove…just so I’m sure my beloved brother is tip-top.”

With a warm chuckle knowing my brother cared about my comfort, I responded, “Well, I just got back from the other house with the glove you made so that I can use it on Pops. When I came in you were fucking Petey while Johnny made out with you. You were also fingering Johnny’s asshole and both of them came. Then, after a few more minutes, you came in Petey’s hole and Petey had another orgasm. Then you sent your boys off to do some kind of mysterious task. I’m not even sure why you’d think I wouldn’t be fine. You know I love watching you and your boys having fun together!”

Yusuf’s big smile appeared, making my heart skip a beat, “Oh, I know, bro. I just like hearing you say it. My boys sure are special, aren’t they? Bet you wish you had some sons of your own, eh?”

I nodded knowingly. Yusuf knew how much I’d always wanted kids. I knew he cared for me, and this was just another demonstration of how much he knew me. Some people may think he was rubbing in the fact he had kids and I didn’t, but I knew better.

“Yeah, it’d be great. And if I’m being really honest, I’m pretty jealous of your fatherhood. Like, I wish I had some sons as amazing as Johnny and Petey. I mean, I don’t think I’d roughhouse quite the way you and your boys do! I’m straight after all. But I sure would love to have some kids one day. Maybe Becky and I will finally adopt? I mean, she’s prolly past child-bearing years or at least near it at this point,” I stated, slightly saddened, as I always was, when I thought about how my wife and I hadn’t had kids when we were younger.

Sure, we weren’t old per se, but if we had kids now, we’d be in our late fifties by the time they turned 18. But seeing Yusuf with his boys always made me long for kids of my own. He was such a generous, gracious, and giving father…truly an inspiration for the kind of dad I’d be. I don’t think any other father loved their kids more than he did.

I was so proud to be his brother and an uncle to his twin boys.

“Well, maybe someday,” Yusuf scoffed, but in a realistic way, not a cruel way, “But let’s talk about more exciting things than your pathetic childless misery. Pops should be here soon. You know the plan?”

Shaking off the familiar lifelong desire for children, I nodded happily. I knew I’d be able to help Yusuf when our father arrived with our brother, Fred, and nephew, Danny. I knew, somewhat instinctively, that I’d use Yusufs right and left gloves on our father the same way Yusuf used them on Becky and his sons today. It would give him time to do the same for Fred and Danny.

And, per Yusuf’s plan, it would make Pops even happier and better than he was now. I knew Yusuf felt the loss of our mom as much as any of us, and his plan would help Dad, the person who likely felt the loss the most, more than anyone else. Yusuf was truly so selfless to care so deeply for Pops that he’d use his invention to ensure Pops never felt the grief of losing his wife ever again.

Yusuf was practically a saint!

I honestly couldn’t wait! To top everything off, I’d finally get to experience what it’s like for Yusuf when he uses them! And I’d get to make him so happy by ensuring Pops is receptive to his love the same way the rest of the family was while helping Pops heal fully and completely. It was so important.

And Yusuf trusted me with it!

Loving my brother for believing in me, I responded, “I do know the plan! But why do you think you and your sons need to not be seen right away? Or that I shouldn’t even mention you to them when they arrive? I mean, I know we gotta change them like you changed Becky and the twins, but they’re still your family. I’m sure they’d be happy to see you even before we use the gloves.”

“Eddie, you’re a real dipshit sometimes,” Yusuf said with a laugh, taking all the sting out of what he called me, “You saw how your dumbass wife and my sons responded to seeing me before the gloves! Why would you think Pops or Fred or Danny wouldn’t behave similarly?”

Laughing right along with Yusuf, I smacked myself on the forehead jokingly, “You’re right, I can be such a dipshit. I just love you so much I can’t believe we’d need to do anything to make sure our dad or brother or nephew did too. Besides that, you’re doing such an amazingly kind thing for Pops. I’d have thought you’d want to be the one to make sure he felt better about losing Mom.”

Yusuf leaned back, stretching his arms behind his head, revealing damp, rank armpits, “Yeah, I know I’m great. But, believe me when I say, it’s somehow so much better that you’ll be helping Pops rather than me. It’s…uh…somehow more poetic.

“But, forget all that for now. Do we have time to shoot the shit before the others get here? I might have another go on the boys before dinner. I’m just feeling really horny today for some strange reason. Almost like all my sexual fantasies were coming true or something!”

Getting the impression Yusuf was hinting about something that went right over my head, I just smiled and nodded. Answering his initial question, “Probably about another half an hour to hour or so. You prolly have time to unload into the boys if you wanted. Based on how much they love you, I’m sure they’d both jump at the opportunity!”

“Yeah. They sure do love their Daddy, don’t they? Tell ya what. Why don’t you sit right here, like a loyal brother, and wait for the doorbell. But you better ensure to go by my plan to the letter. I know you know that my plan will help our family more than anything else could considering our father’s big loss earlier this year, right? I gotta go make sure Becky is up to speed as well. Then I’ll go ruin my needy Johnny Boy’s tight ‘happy hole’. That sound like a good deal?” Yusuf declared knowing I’d never have any arguments with any of his plans.

“Yup!” I enthused, looking back at the TV as my rotund brother stood up slowly. As he stood and waddled out the door towards Becky in the kitchen, the glistening chair beside me caught my attention. The chair was practically imbued with semen that had been forced into the material now by his humungous ass. The boys truly had completely ruined the leather with their inhuman number of large loads. The carpet around the chair, too, would likely need some pretty deep cleaning to get rid of the puddle of sploodge.

Goodness, my brother sure did get his boys going! Luckily for me, it was Yusuf’s chair and carpet, so it was his problem to solve, not mine!

After a few minutes, I could hear the creaking of the stairs indicating Yusuf had finished helping Becky understand the plan for Pops, Frank, and Danny. I knew he was convincing in the best of times but likely had to use his glove on her too, just to be safe.

Beyond all that, I couldn’t help but imagine what Yusuf was upstairs doing with my nephews. I never could stop myself from thinking about the sex my brother and the boys got up to, despite being straight myself. It was like a weird addiction. It didn’t even turn me on; I just had such an intense curiosity for what they might do together.

No matter what I conjured in my head, it was always Yusuf taking the lead. I knew his boys were basically his little submissive playthings. Not to speak ill of my own nephews, but Petey and Johnny had always been, well, a bit stupider than most other boys their age. I held nothing against them by any means, but they truly did depend on their father to get them through life.

Luckily, their stupidity honestly made them endlessly happy, so they were still a joy to be around. Especially when Yusuf was there. They truly had unconditionally love for their father. I only wish I had some boys of my own to experience what that must feel like.

Granted, the dynamic that had been built between Yusuf and his boys was, well, a bit sexual since they’d turned 18. Not that I thought that was wrong or strange by any means, but I could still remember when the boys announced their attraction for their own father on their birthday. Yusuf, loving them so fully, obviously allowed them access to his paternal body.

Petey and Johnny were old enough to go to college now, but they would never have had the brains to go to college. They’d barely made their way through high school and had always come home to their beloved father every single day. I’d found it odd that the two attractive boys never even really made any other friends other than one another and their father. Luckily, family meant everything to us, so they were never left wanting for a social life. They just loved their time with their father far too much! And I loved that I had such a perfect father/son dynamic I could (hopefully) build from if I was ever blessed enough with children.

I lost myself to the image of Johnny getting fucked by Yusuf while Petey ate his father’s ass, just staring at the TV without really comprehending what I was watching. Time slipped away as the incestuous gay images played over and over in my brain, switching up the dynamics, but always Yusuf his boys bodies for his own pleasure.

I couldn’t really even say how much time when by when I heard the doorbell ring. Excited to get help Yusuf, I hopped to my feet a mere second after hearing the indication that the rest of the family had arrived and jolted towards the door.

Not wasting a moment, I pulled the door open quickly.

There stood my father, brother Fred, and nephew Danny. I could tell that they all jumped slightly, clearly not expecting my response to be quite that fast.

“Well heavens, Edgar! Were you waiting by the door for us or something? Excited to see your dear old dad, eh?” my father joked.

I laughed, knowing that he was more than correct, “What can I say? I’ve been excited to get the whole family together!”

Smiling back at me, my father reached out and grabbed me, pulling me into a warm, tight hug. My dad had always been a really caring father. I knew I was lucky in the fact I didn’t have a dad that was emotionally withholding or demanding, like many of my peers. He’d been in touch with his emotions, always ensuring we were all loved and supported. While many of my friends seemed to fight for their father’s approval, I had always received mine without strings attached. I could feel every ounce of that love in every hug he gave me, this one being no different.

While in his late sixties now, he’d stayed very fit. I knew he still went on long walks and ate healthily. What’s more, I could feel that strength in both the extremely tight hug and the firmness of the muscles mashed against my body.

“Love ya, Ed-bear. I know Mom still does too,” he whispered in my ear, using my childhood nickname as he always did. I felt myself welling up slightly at the mention of my mom so quickly. I’d expected to talk freely about her, this being our first Thanksgiving without her, but I didn’t expect it in my father’s greeting.

But this was so much like my father. He wasn’t one to shy away from the more difficult emotions and he ensured he allowed his kids to grieve with him openly. It’s one of the reasons I knew I’d dealt with my mother’s passing so well: my father was a pillar of support.

I whispered back into his ear, “Love you, Pops,” feeling his fine, white hair tickle at my closed eyelids.

“All right, all right,” I heard my brother say, “Let’s get inside. We can do the rest of the mushy stuff in there.”

Letting go of my father and wiping a faint tear from my eye, I stepped aside, allowing the three to follow me.

Closing the door, I turned to my big brother and gave him his hug, “Glad you made it.”

My older brother was just as broad as me, slightly dirtier blonde hair, like our mother’s had been. His clean-shaven face showcased the same strong jaw the entire family seemed to inherit, my dad and nephew sporting the same jutted feature.

Fred’s strong arms gave a tight squeeze, “Honestly, I don’t think any of us would have missed it for the world. Besides, certain young man have some certain amazing news they wanted to share with certain people…”

As the tight hug ended, I instantly looked over at my father and nephew. The tell-tale crystal blue Berger family eyes shimmered under the entryway lights on all three of them, telling me they were all excited for something. Seeing Danny fidgeting, clearly trying to contain his eagerness, I figured Fred meant his son was the one he was hinting towards.

Danny stood there, practically shaking with excitement. He’d grown into his manly body, as did most Berger men, several years prior, with his broad shoulders, V-shaped chest, and thick thighs on display in the tighter t-shirt and gym shorts he was wearing. His demeaner was a far cry from the last time I’d seen the 20-year-old at the funeral earlier this year. He’d been, naturally, very withdrawn, as were most of us. Luckily for him, he had a great support group in both his family and girlfriend, Izzy, who I could recall held onto him the entire time they were together.

“Well, look at you! You look like you’re on cloud nine! I wonder if you’re who Fred is talking about?” I guessed with a slight tease, walking towards him.

Danny, anxiously pushing back his longer blonde hair, looked like he was about to burst, “Izzy and I are getting married!”

“Ahh!” I hollered, lunging forward and practically restraining him in my arms with the firm hug I gave him, “That’s so exciting! Oh wow! I can’t wait for everyone else to hear!”

“I was gonna wait til dinner to tell everyone but I’m just so excited. She’s just so great and smart and perfect and I can’t wait. No date yet and she’s sad she couldn’t join us but she had family plans too and well I’m rambling but yeah I’m so so so excited, Uncle Edgar!”

Laughing as I swayed with my nephew still hugging me back, “That is so great! I fully expect everyone else will be just as happy for you, kid!”

“Speaking of,” my father interjected, “Where are Becky and the boys? We thought you’d all be greeting us.”

Suddenly reminded of the plan Yusuf laid out, I let go of my nephew and went on auto-pilot. Despite the unexpected joyous news, I still had to make sure these three ended up where Yusuf needed them. He’d ensured I knew exactly what to say to get them ready for their required alterations.

And I wouldn’t and couldn’t let him down!

“Oh, the boys are fiddling around upstairs in one of the boys’ rooms. You’ll prolly hear them as you approach. It’s a new game they recently started playing and really enjoy. They wanted me to tell Danny to head right on up with them. They wanted to get him in on the fun as soon as possible.

“And Becky is working away in the kitchen. She wanted me to ask you, Fred, if you’d join her. She’s working pretty hard and wants everything to be perfect, but she thought your special touch might be needed. The boys will likely come down and help finish everything up once they’re done with their game.

“And you and I, Pops, can catch up in the living room! There’s a lot that I wanted to talk to you about regarding the family. I just want to get you up to speed with some really interesting plans for the future we’ve developed.

“All that sound okay?”

My three trusting family members nodded, with Fred adding, “Not sure how much help I’ll be in the kitchen considering I’m GrubHub’s number one costumer, but I can certainly lend her a hand.”

Fred headed off towards the kitchen quickly, my larger older brother showing that, as he’d always been, he was eager to help.

Danny, smile still permanently affixed to his face, started upstairs, “I can’t wait to tell Pete and John about Izzy. I know Pete and his girlfriend were getting close to this step too…or at least I picked up that they were. See you guys in a bit!”

As Danny disappeared upstairs, Pops and I sauntered easily into the living room.

“It really is great to have the entire family under the same roof again. Especially since the last time was a bit more of a solemn affair,” Pops said, taking a seat on the couch.

I followed close behind, heading towards the leather chair, “Yeah. I know it’s been a challenging year for all of us, especially you, but I truly wanted to make this Thanksgiving a special one.”

As I started to take a seat, my father interjected, “Oh, watch out, Ed-bear! There seems to be a bit of a mess on the chair. Oh…and on the carpet. Yikes, what is that?!”

Realizing what I’d nearly sat in and knowing it played a part in what was happening to my father soon, per Yusuf’s plan, I laughed, “Oh, the boys were just being a bit more rambunctious than usual. No worries, their game with Danny shouldn’t take too long. I’m sure we can get it cleaned soon. This conversation is a bit more important right now, though.”

As I sat, Pops continued side-eyeing the mess and sniffing loudly. I wasn’t entirely sure, but he likely was putting two and two together as to what may be on the chair. Not wanting to give him a chance to think too much about it, “So, Pops. How’ve been getting on? Everything okay at home? I know it must be tough without Mom.”

With one final look at the mess, Pops shook his head and smiled at me. I felt that easy comfort I always experienced with my father, fully enveloped in that unconditional love he exuded so naturally, “Well, obviously, it’s an adjustment. I miss your mom every day. It’s strange waking up without her there. Having you and Fred and the grandkids is such a blessing though. Your boys call me all the time to check in, as does Danny. Fred, especially, has been a fantastic help in keeping the house less lonely. I know you live so much farther away, so don’t want you or Becky to feel bad about not seeing me in person as much. But it is nice to have him able to come over as frequently as he does.”

I smiled, knowing my father meant no ill-will in his comments at all. Becky and I still made sure to call him frequently and traveled to see him at least once a month. Fred, however, was in the same city and only about a half an hour away. Naturally, he’d ensured to see our Pops as often as he could. This was what a loving family did, after all.

“I’m glad for that too, Pops. Honestly, life without Mom has been so different. But, well, recently…we came across a way for it to get even easier. And I love you enough to help you. I can help that grief go away completely,” I stated, happily knowing Yusuf’s plan would help him…while knowing, instinctively, I shouldn’t mention Yusuf quite yet.

Confused, Pops responded, placing his arm around me in his loving, paternal way, “I’m not sure what you mean, Ed-bear. Besides that, I love my grief. It means I loved your mom well. It means she has left an impression. The grief keeps her alive in a way. I certainly hope you haven’t tried to avoid feeling those important emotions? Grief is just your love for her living on, son. Don’t shy away from it.”

While my father’s words were powerful and likely very true, I knew Yusuf’s plan was even better.

Grabbing the gloves I’d set on the coffee table next to the nearly empty wine bottle, I slipped them on my hands. I knew Yusuf wanted me to get into his mind as quickly as possible to keep the day flowing naturally. Afterall, there was little doubt he was already invading Danny’s mind upstairs. So, I responded tenderly, “I get what you’re saying, Dad. But I also think you should consider this perspective.”

Reaching out, I grasped Pops’ wrist with my right hand firmly. Wriggling my thumb, I activated the amazing invention and, instantly, I felt my consciousness travel with a silent ‘wooosh’ down my arm, through the glove, and up my father’s body, processing nothing more than a blinding white light as my eyes rolled into the back of my head.

Excitement flooded my disembodied presence…I was entering my beloved father’s mind.

And I couldn’t wait to help my father be the man I knew he needed to be.

 

His Son, Yusuf

As quickly as the bizarre sensation of ‘swooshing’ through my own father’s body started, it ended. And I could sense more than I could see the inner workings of his mind surrounding me.

It was a difficult experience to comprehend entirely. I knew, intellectually, my body was still sitting there, holding onto my dad with the right glove Yusuf had provided me. But my current consciousness was now firmly implanted here next to his own.

The best way I could describe the insane feeling was that I was floating amongst the sensation that was my father. I felt his gentle love. I felt his confident calmness. I felt his unconditional optimism.

In a way, I figured I was feeling the core of his soul. His brain had made pathways and connections based on the foundation he’d been born with, supported and built by a successful marriage with his wife and a life of love for his family, which contributed to his overall, tranquil mind.

I imagined what Yusuf must have felt in the other minds he’d entered earlier today. I hoped I’d felt like this for him: a welcoming mind built on trust and love. My wife was likely a bit more prickly, but not in a hurtful way…in a confidently self-assured way that could be unbecoming to those who didn’t know her well. Yusuf had known her since I’d met her, being my brother, so I was sure he felt fine within her mind.

But if he entered his twin boys’ minds, it would likely have been a similar pair of singularly focused sexual perverts with little more going on in their vacant minds than desiring pleasure from and giving pleasure to their father. Petey and Johnny had always been…well, stupid. And since they’d become adults, I couldn’t remember a time they weren’t trying to get on Yusuf’s cock.

I was happy Yusuf didn’t want me going into their minds for any reason; my nephews most definitely never would have had such a calming spirit as my father. If I could, I’d stay here without adjusting it, loving the all-consuming calmness my father’s mind exuded upon my consciousness.

But I couldn’t stay here and enjoy it because I wasn’t here to keep it this way.

No, I was here to help make it more to Yusuf’s liking for my father’s own well-being. My brother knew best for everyone. In the end, I wouldn’t hesitate to adjust our father’s mind if Yusuf deemed it necessary.

I wasn’t sure how to start, but as if the very process had been downloaded into me, I got to work. Slowly, I began moving my…energy, I suppose…to the area of his brain I knew I needed to shift first. As new as this all was for me, I’d have to take things slowly. Despite somehow having an instinctual set of steps I was following, I had to be careful about every move I made, ensuring I didn’t ruin my father unintentionally.

Finding where I needed to be, I started by focusing on what I needed to access. It wasn’t as if I reached out and grabbed at the neurons around me (I didn’t have hands here), but I did move myself around like a spark at the areas I sensed needed adjustment.

There were the big four things I instinctively knew Yusuf focused on when he adjusted the minds he entered with his invention: memory, emotion, desires, and personality.

Before anything else, I started with his memories. Not fully knowing how I’d be doing this or why I was starting here, I latched onto the core of my father’s memories and inserted Yusuf. I had no idea why I’d need to insert Yusuf into his own father’s brain, but I was running on instinct. Whatever I had to do, it seemed beyond my ability to control as I just did what felt natural.

The brain, as malleable as it seemed to be from within, took Yusuf into the gray matter and pushed and implanted it without me needing to do much else.

All around me, the sensations changed slightly as I knew my father’s brain absorbed it. I knew he now had a life of memories with all three of his sons: Fred, Edgar, and Yusuf, the youngest. Without thinking, I pushed forward a single memory of experiencing intense closeness and near-obsession for Yusuf the moment he was born. Our father now remembered that Yusuf was the single most important person in his life the moment he laid eyes on him.

That singular memory trickled down throughout the rest of his memories, like a cancerous cell spreading itself and making the rest fall in line so that it made sense. From the moment Yusuf had been born, my father now remembered putting Yusuf on a pedestal; Yusuf was his favorite human being, by far.

As I felt the memories trickle down, my father’s mind automatically corrected itself to make the initial memory function within his altered mind. It seemed to be a natural process: conflicting information couldn’t allow for the brain to work as intended, so it needed to fold in rationalizations and meanings behind the newly inserted facts. So, to our father, in the past few decades, Yusuf had to become the number one person on his list. His youngest son meant everything to him. Now, to our father, it had always been this way as his brain settled into its’ new truths.

As this new single-minded favoritism took root, the emotions of love all around me encountered a huge shift. The brain no longer felt quite as welcoming to everyone or empathetic and loving for his entire family. His brain was radiating with love for Yusuf. I could sense it building. It was strange knowing my father now remembered Yusuf as somehow more important than everyone else…knowing the equal love he’d had for Fred, me, and our mother was now a shadow of what he felt for Yusuf.

Sure, I still felt the love that was still naturally there. My father was a good person, after all. So while I knew he loved Yusuf more than the rest of us, he still did care enough to ensure our family stayed together. It was, however, still a bit sad and strange knowing the love he had for me…for my dead mom…paled in comparison to Yusuf.

It was even more sad and strange, though, knowing I was doing this to him.

But Yusuf must have a reason that I just couldn’t question or comprehend quite yet.

I could feel the memories of pride, love, and…well, a bit of obsession for Yusuf building around me. The memories I knew he’d had of everyone else were noticeably fading into less important folds of his brain as Yusuf became the center of his world. He was now a father who loved his youngest son more than anyone or anything else in the world. For Yusuf, it would be a blessing; for the rest of us, not so much.

That said, my father was a good person at heart. I could sense the shame he felt having a favorite child. The shame he felt that his youngest son meant more to him than his wife. It was the first real negative or self-deprecating feeling I’d experienced radiating from my father’s being since entering his brain. Not even the calm grief I knew he had for Mom had felt quite this negative.

I couldn’t focus on that, however. I had a mission I needed to complete.

Next, I moved onto the emotional center of his brain, feeling myself glide along his neural pathway quickly. This area, just a few moments before, would likely have been at the center of the warm glow of love I’d felt when I first arrived. Now, that glow was mostly focused on Yusuf.

As it should be.

I thrusted in feelings of utter devotion to Yusuf while pulling out all that calm grief he’d felt losing Mom; that had no place here any longer. Granted, with the shifting near obsession for Yusuf, the grief had already shrunk considerably. The shame around that lack of grief, however, had grown.

So I did what I needed to do to ensure my father had nothing holding him back from his all consuming love of Yusuf: I removed that shame. My father shouldn’t feel bad about loving Yusuf…he shouldn’t feel bad that he was his favorite.

And so, that shame evaporated.

Knowing he’d no longer feel that shame, I pushed in a bit of disdain for Fred and myself. I knew it would only add to the love that I wanted my father to have for Yusuf. Sure, I was sad that my own supportive father would no longer have that love and support for me…but Yusuf deserved paternal love far more than Fred or I did.

I did ensure that he had love for Yusuf’s sons…I made sure to only put in that thought, however. ‘Love for Yusuf’s sons’ rather than ‘Love for Petey and Johnny’. I wasn’t sure why I needed to put it into my father’s mind in that way, but it felt like the right way to phrase it.

That love did fill the space around us. While it was still an obvious sensation of obsession with Yusuf, my father had a soft spot for his grandsons too. Obviously, if his favorite son Yusuf had kids, he’d love and support them. I felt bad for Danny at that moment knowing that his own grandfather would soon consider him an afterthought because he’d come from Fred rather than from Yusuf.

Not taking even a moment to consider what this might mean for Danny, I moved onto the next area of the brain I needed to adjust: desire.

This, I knew, would be a strange thing to shift in my own straight father’s mind. I’d never considered the sexual attractions or needs my father may have had beyond the fact that he was my heterosexual father married to my mother.

But now, here I was, pulling out all attraction to women entirely, including the large attraction he’d had to my mom. I pulled out a fetish for high heels I never knew my father had. I kept various other, less gender-centric fetishes that I could feel, however, like a small foot fetish and the desire for public sex.

It was strange, pulling out my father’s heterosexuality. I could naturally sense that he’d always had absolutely no desire for anything sexual with or from men. My father had been a large female breast man, I learned against my will. But now, the sexual part of my father’s brain felt nearly empty, filled only with a couple fetishes unattached to any gender at all.

I could sense a pull coming from that area, as if his sexual desires wanted to be satiated by anything it could specifically focus on…even if it was filled with the knowledge of an absence of sexual desire for any particular ‘type’ of person. It was almost as if pulling out the desire for women and my mom left a vacuum that needed filling. A part of me wanted to make my father asexual at this moment…but I knew that wasn’t the plan.

The plan was that I put Yusuf into my father’s empty sexual center.

And so I did.

My father’s mind consumed the attraction instantly, without a fight. All heterosexuality was replaced with a homosexual desire.

A homosexual desire for his youngest son.

The memories and emotions were once again affected by this large shift in sexual desire for Yusuf. The intense love he’d had for Yusuf now took on an erotic thrill. I could feel the shame he’d felt at one time for these feelings…but now my father knew that his sexual orientation had always, basically, been Yusuf-centric.

Sure, my father had obviously married and had sex with my mom. But now, it was obvious it was one act of heterosexuality to ensure he eventually had a son that looked like Yusuf…so that he could be with him.

I shoved in a desire for incest, ensuring the shame that had started to form with his attraction towards his own son was snuffed out. I made sure any and all guilt or shame in wanting his own son was gone.

My father had wanted and been with Yusuf from the moment Yusuf became a man.

For an added flourish, I added a bit of a fetish for performing such taboo acts with his own son. Sure, he felt no guilt being with him…but knowing the world would likely frown on it if they knew was now pushing my father’s buttons in ways my mother never could have.

The attraction to Yusuf had the added butterfly effect of attraction to large, Arabic, hairy men…meaning my father very much had a desire for his grandsons now too. The added incest was like a cherry on top of my father’s sexuality cake.

Feeling the now all-consuming love and lust for Yusuf at the front and center of my father’s spirit, I moved to the last area. It was time to make sure my father’s personality matched what Yusuf knew it needed to be.

This area was a little cozier than the rest. The memories, emotions, and desires were all intermixed and woven between one another.

But my father’s personality was at the core. It was where he was who he was, as simple as that. His personality was the anchor for his memories, sexual desires, and feelings. I knew that the personality was really what interpreted the other three and made him the person he was in the real world.

My father was still polite, respectful, and kind to his core. Despite having a singular focus on pleasing Yusuf, using my mother to create Yusuf, and having a slight disdain for Fred and me in comparison with our younger brother, my father would act on all of that in the way his personality had dictated. That meant he was still, at his core, a good man.

His memories were singularly focused on his love for Yusuf.

His emotions were built around Yusuf.

His sexual desires were only for Yusuf.

But I could sense within his very essence that he remembered still being kind to the rest of us. That family comes first. That the shame he’d had at his favoritism toward Yusuf, which I’d pulled out earlier, hadn’t been needed to ensure he still treated us well.

The fact was, at his very core, while he wanted to spend all his time with Yusuf, while he truly did love Yusuf more than everyone else, and while he sexually pleasured himself with Yusuf proudly, he still treated the rest of us well. Because he was, at his core, an empathetic, loving human being who didn’t want to actively hurt anyone else.

I pulled all that out.

I wasn’t sure why. I was on autopilot based on what I knew Yusuf wanted me to do.

But his kindness…his warmth…his every desire to be a good person and great father…it was gone in an instant.

I replaced it with an utter disrespect for anyone who wasn’t Yusuf or his grandsons. I pushed in vulgar language and the desire to act cruelly towards others.

I made sure he especially enjoyed being cruel to Fred and me. The need to compare our perceived imperfections to our perfect brother was a very part of his fundamental personality at my forced instruction.

I had no idea why I did it…I just knew I had to.

I had to make my father hate me.

Those actions changed the entirety of my father’s mind in an instant. Like a typhoon, the father I knew before was washed away.

I knew he now remembered using his wife to create Yusuf. I knew he know remembered how disappointed he was when he had Fred and then me. He now remembered how he’d pushed my mom, my brother, and me to the side the moment Yusuf came into the picture.

And what’s more, he remembered feeling no guilt for having such disdain for everyone else.

The inviting spirit that had made me feel so comfortable at the start of my journey into his mind was only a memory of who he was before.

Now, his spirit was…well, all about Yusuf. The only vibrations emanating around me were focused on Yusuf’s happiness, Yusuf’s comfort, Yusuf’s sexual pleasure. The very thought of anyone other than Yusuf practically repulsed him.

My father was, without exaggeration, now completely obsessed with his youngest son.

There were blips of his grandsons within the emotional aura, but his love for them was attached to his love for Yusuf. They were Yusuf’s boys…so they were worthy.

An intense amount of contempt radiated for every other person. The loving man I’d known before I came into his mind was gone…he now despised anyone who wasn’t Yusuf or his grandsons.

In short, I lost my mom earlier this year…I now knew I lost the dad I’d always relied on too.

As I eased my way backwards, knowing instinctively how to exit my father’s changed brain, I felt a confusion as to what I just did and why. I knew I’d done it for Yusuf and for our dad…I knew he’d ensure my father would no longer feel grief for our mother…but was this really the only way we could have done it? Did I really need to make my father forget all his love for everyone other than Yusuf? Was that truly the only way in which my father could get over the grief of losing his soul mate?

A soul mate I knew now my father didn’t even remember actually loving…

I realized as I exited his brain that, in all ways aside from physical, the father I knew before was gone completely.

As the ‘wooshing’ feeling of me exiting his brain stopped, I felt my consciousness reassert itself within my own mind. My eyes readjusted as they rolled out of the back of my head. Blinking a few times, I felt a small headrush as I knew my consciousness was settling back into my own head.

The salty smell of the room filled my nostrils as the sensations of the couch and my father’s hand within my glove were realized once more. I could hear a moaning from the room, but all I could see as my vision blurred back into focus in front of me was my father.

He, too, blinked as everything I knew I’d just placed into his head became him. The loving eyes he’d always gave me hardened almost instantly. The inviting smile I’d always received the entire time my beloved father saw me turned into a grimace.

“Holy shit, get your fucking hands off me, Ed,” he stated, face twisted into a look of pure hatred, “You know I don’t want you fucking touching me.”

“I…I…I…” I flushed, unaccustomed to my father treating me like this or looking at me without the love he’d always had before.

“I…I…I…” he mocked, “Jesus, you’re dumb. Every fucking day I wonder why you couldn’t have been more like…”

“Me?” I heard from across the room. Looking over, I could see it was Yusuf who’d spoken up. The moaning I’d heard as I exited my father’s brain had clearly been coming from him and the three men surrounding him.

Three men that looked identical…

I knew two of the three had to be Petey and Johnny. But there was now a third ‘twin’ that looked identical to his other two sons. One was currently sucking his cock, another was behind him, lapping his tongue between the large, hairy cheeks of his ass, and the third was standing next to him, leaning into Yusuf adoringly, allowing Yusuf easy access to his large chode, hairy chest, and furry ass. The third boy was nipping at Yusuf’s earlobe, clearly completely infatuated with his…father…?

“It took you long enough, Eddie. It’s hot that you did that for me, but damn…what would have taken me half a minute seemed to take you a good ten or so. Still, I definitely wanna make sure you did your job well.

“Heya, Pops. Just wanna make sure you are liking what you’re seeing. You like seeing me and my sons being all sexual with one another?”

“Oh, fuck yeah. Love seeing my boy and your boys nice and nude and hard and having fun…but…I know Petey and Johnny…who the fuck is the third one? You had twins, not triplets,” my father asked, now completely engrossed with his favorite son and the identical triplets he now seemed to have.

Yusuf, leaning his head away from the standing boy so he could start slurping on his neck, laughed, “You don’t recognize Danny? Petey, Johnny, and Danny?! My three loving, perfect, sexy sons so keen on worshiping their father sexually? Come now, I can’t believe you, Pops!”

Confusion racked my father’s face, “Danny? But that was Fred’s worthless boy. He came from that inferior seed, not yours. How…what…Yusuf, how the fuck did you make him so fucking hot like Petey and Johnny?”

“Well, let’s just say I have quite the power now with my latest inventions. I’ll fill you in later. First and foremost, care to join in?” Yusuf offered, placing his hand in the dark hair of the triplet that was currently blowing him.

“Holy fuck yeah, boy. You know I never say no to sex with you and your boys! Especially now that there’s a third!” My father enthused, leaping to his feet.

Without hesitation, he began stripping out of his clothes. I sat there, awkwardly, unsure how to deal with what I’d just done to my father, what was happening with my brother, or that Fred’s son now seemed to be Yusuf’s son too.

As he stripped off his shirt, revealing a pale, white, hairless chest that looked so much like mine with just a fair bit of sagging at the pecs and belly, Dad asked, “Seriously though, boy. It’s fucking hot you made Danny worth a damn. Now that he looks like your sexy boys, there’s no doubt I love him just as much as your kids. But how? And why?”

Yusuf, now pulling hard on his son’s hair as he throat-fucked him roughly, responded, “Why don’t I let him tell you? Be a good boy, Danny, and let them know what happened upstairs while your uncle Eddie was fixing Pops for us?”

The young man currently between Yusuf’s ass cheeks came up for air, gasping. His darker complexion did little to hide the redness from lack of oxygen as he’d been gorging himself on his new father’s rectum. “Okay, Daddy,” the boy said.

As the boy stood up, I could see that Yusuf had truly made him another exact replica of his two other sons. His size, shape, hairiness…every last detail…was a carbon copy of the twins. Danny had been a few years older than his cousins before. Now, however, he was, for intents and purposes, an 18-year-old as well.

Unable to stop his horniness despite needing to tell his grandfather and, by extension, me, Danny stroked his uncut cock while staring at his new brothers servicing his new father. I wasn’t sure as I hadn’t seen it, but if Danny was anything like me before he was changed, it was likely he’d lost quite a bit of length in that area…as well as grew a new sheath for his cockhead.

“Well, I went upstairs all excited-like cuz I was gonna marry some girl. But that’s so stupid now. I saw Petey and Johnny having fun with Daddy and was kinda confused and scared at first. I’m sure why but I’m also a smarty-pants.

“But then Daddy touched me and he made me feel so much better. Then he made me sexy and not a ugly boy anymore. And now I’m a dumb, gay, triplet slut that Daddy made just to pleasure him. I love being a dumb, gay, triplet slut with Petey and Johnny! My silly dumb brain was so fucking dumb in a dumber way before but Daddy put me right and now I’m good dumb. Now I just want to make my Daddy feel good cuz it makes my pee-pee feel so good and shoot out my happy juice! Daddy’s Daddy-cock loves it too! And I love my Daddy and his Daddy-cock!

“Is that good, Daddy? Can I keep licking your poopy hole again? It tastes so good!”

“Good boy, Danny. Get back on in there, buddy.”

Danny instantly slammed back down onto his hands and knees, likely unable to even care that the loud ‘thunk’ of his knees slamming against the floor had to have hurt. Lunging back between the flabby cheeks, Danny got back to work as quickly as he’d stopped. Clearly, he hadn’t wanted to stop to begin with.

“Damn, son. That’s fucking hot. Making that boy worth something,” Dad said as he wiggled out of his pants and socks. My father stood there, nude, proudly displaying his older body for his son.

All told, Dad was still quite fit for someone of his age. There were some clear wrinkles on his face, but his body was still relatively smooth, lithe, and muscular. His cock was long and hard, likely as big as mine, with balls churning in a seemingly hairless sack dangling quite a bit farther down from his shaft.

I’d never seen my father’s penis, nor had I ever wanted to, but I imagined my mother had been quite satisfied with the large tool, just a bit thicker than mine, but with a long, white, veiny shaft and pink, circumcised head.

Yusuf, for his part, eyed the tool like it was the first time he’d ever seen it. I supposed it was for him. I knew I’d implanted memories into my father involving sex with Yusuf from the moment Yusuf had become a man, but this was the first time he was seeing his youngest nude in actuality too.

“Fuck, boy, but you turn me on. I never get tired of seeing your perfect, fat, hairy body on display. I have no idea where you got those good looks. Your mom and I were white and pale. But you and your boys got the fucking hot Arab look. Fuck, I wish I looked more like all of you,” my dad gushed, stroking his cock the entire time.

“Well, funny you should say that. I’m gonna let Eddie-boy take over in a moment, but I plan on using my prototype left glove to make you just as hot of a Daddy as me. It works the same as the one I’d used on Danny to make him look like this,” Yusuf explained, still skull-fucking the kneeling boy, either Johnny or Petey, as Danny ravaged his backside and the standing boy continued allowing Yusuf to grope him.

“Do you want me to change you?” Yusuf asked with confidence, already knowing the answer.

“Holy fuck, yes, boy!” my dad practically shrieked.

With a chuckle, “Good, now bend over. I wanna fuck my Daddy’s hole.”

With a devilish smile I’d never seen on my father’s face, Pops turned around, bending over the couch. Seeing me, he glared for a moment, but knowing what was coming, he quickly ignored me.

He instead focused on grabbing his two ass cheeks and spreading them wide. From my angle, I couldn’t see my father’s hole, but I could imagine he was trying to open it as much as he could for his youngest son.

“Damn, Daddy! Eddie-boy here made you so eager!” Yusuf gushed, pulling the boy from his cock by his hair.

“Ed had nothing to do with it, the waste of spunk. Only even had him, and Fred for that matter, because I was hoping for a son like you. You’re the fucking best, son,” Dad said, cutting my heart like a dagger.

“You’re sweet, Pops. But, don’t be too hard on Eddie! He’s gonna help make you that sexy Pop-Pop you wanna be, after all,” Yusuf assured him, pulling himself from the grip of Danny and his standing son, “You three have fun with one another for a little while. I bet you all can’t wait to see your Pop-Pop become a sexy Grand-daddy, huh?”

“Oh, fuck yeah, Daddy!” the one that had been sucking his cock exclaimed, standing up.

“I can’t fucking wait, Daddy. I’m gonna have Pop-Pop hit my boy button with his dick and fingers like you!” the standing boy said, grabbing onto his brother and pulling him close.

“I love you more than anyone or anything, Daddy, but Pop-Pop will be so much hotter when he looks like us!” Danny jovially added, getting to his feet as well, and sandwiching himself on the end of the identical triplets. All three of their indistinguishable rock-hard cocks were leaking heavily as they each reached over and grabbed onto their brother’s meat, horny beyond belief at the incestuous fun they were having.

“Holy shit, you boys sure are such a sexy blessing. But I gotta get my cock in you, Pops. Your hole looks amazing,” Yusuf said, approaching our father while licking his lips like a wolf going in for the slaughter.

“Stick it in me, boy. I didn’t fuck your mom just to make that perfect dick between your legs for you to not use it on me! I feel like you haven’t been inside me in forever!” Dad urged, having no clue at all he was about to lose his virginity to the man he remembered being sexually obsessed with since Yusuf had become an adult due to my machinations.

“Hey, Petey. Come lather my cock with lube real fast. Your spit ain’t gonna cut it. And Johnny, why don’t you start fingering your Pop-Pop with lube so his hole is ready for me.”

The boy that had been sucking off Yusuf hurried to grab lube that was sitting on the coffee table, unnoticed. I saw that, at some point, they must have set it there next to the now empty bottle of wine that Yusuf had likely finished off while I’d been inside our father’s mind.

“Of course, Daddy. I’d do anything to touch your perfect Daddy-dick!” the boy that I now knew was Petey said, squirting lube into his hand and grasping his father’s thick meat.

“I would too, Daddy!” Johnny pouted as he grabbed the bottle from Petey, allowing quite a bit to pour out into his own masculine hand, “Why does Petey get to touch your penis so much. He already got fucked ‘til you gave him your yummy cummies, then he got to suck you so he could taste your yummy cummies too, and now he gets to stroke it?! Your penis is my favorite thing in the world, Daddy! It’s not faaaair. It’s my turn!”

“Oh shush, Johnny. Daddy gets to decide. Besides, he was fucking you when Danny walked in upstairs. You got to feel his penis and his finger hit your boy button. I haven’t felt his finger yet,” Petey explained while beginning to jerk off his father.

As Johnny started to finger his grandfather’s hole, spreading the lube all around, “But then he had to stop because Danny interrupted like a butthead. And I only got to blow you while he fixed him with the gloves. It’s not fair, Daddy. Please let me worship your Daddy-dick!. I’d do anything for you and it, Daddy!”

“Now, shush Johnny-boy. I love you, Petey, and Danny equally. You’ll have to learn to share if you’re going to be a good boy. There’ll be plenty of time for me to fuck you. I’m your Daddy, after all. And you live here with me, right?”

As he slowly pushed his fingers into his grandfather’s hole, eliciting a moan from my father, Johnny sighed, “I guess, Daddy. But I feel so empty without you fucking me and hitting my boy button. It’s like nothing matters but making you feel good and you making me feel good with your peener. Nothing is as fun or makes me as happy as your Daddy-dick. I’m just jealous that Petey gets more of it than me is all.”

“Aw, I know, boy. Don’t worry. I’ll give you a nice fucking while I tuck you in to go beddy-bye tonight. Sound fair?”

Johnny, visibly excited, responded, “Oh please, oh please, oh please, oh yes, Daddy! You’re such a good Daddy. Oh my fucking God, I can’t wait, Daddy! I can almost imagine your Daddy-dick in me now and it makes my peener leak my boy juice!”

“Hey, no fair! I haven’t gotten fucked yet either! Or got to suck on your Daddy-dick. Or had your Daddy fingers in me. I want a beddy-bye fuck too, Daddy!” Danny exclaimed from behind them, still stroking his own smaller penis.

Yusuf, for his part, just let out a loud laugh and looked over at me, “Well goodness, my boys are all so insatiable, eh Eddie? But, well, that’s just the way God made them, I suppose.”

The boys continued to bicker between one another for the ‘gift’ that they thought Yusuf’s penis was, which seemed to make him throb with excitement as the argument heightened. I couldn’t be sure, but there was likely something in the way they fought over him that turned him on. I found it particularly annoying, but, for whatever reason, Yusuf seemed to love that his boys wanted him so desperately.

Finally, after Danny told Johnny that he was a ‘stupid fucking greedy butthead’ and Petey said he was a ‘stupid fucking whiny little baby’ because he wasn’t going to share his father’s penis with them tonight, Yusuf interjected, “Okay, boys. That’s enough. I gotta fuck your grandpa. You three play with one another. I think we all know that the three of you want my cock more than anything else, but we also know you find one another really sexy too.”

A chorus of instantly excited ‘okay, Daddy’s echoed out as the childish bickering ended without any emotional hesitation and lustful gazes replaced the envious glares while the boys grouped up to play with their identical counterparts. Their jealousy and anger changing on a dime, it was obvious they only cared about pleasing their father and any emotional intelligence they had was as equally dim-witted as the rest of them. The overall vibe shifted completely to mindless horniness as the three men grasped onto one another. Now a set of triplets, there was double the amount of flesh the boys got to stroke, massage, lick, kiss, and suck.

And Petey, Johnny, and Danny got right to it.

Yusuf, however, lined up the head of his uncut cock with our father’s hole, feeling it at the entrance.

“For God’s sake, boy. I can’t wait any longer! Just fuck me!” our father blurted out, pushing his pasty butt backwards, trying to force Yusuf’s thick cock into him.

“Patience, Pops! I’m gonna fuck you, but first,” Yusuf turned to me, “Once I’m inside him, I’m gonna keep fucking him. I want you to change him while I’m in there. Wanna feel my father shift while fucking his hole.”

I nodded, feeling a strange mix of confusion for what I was doing to our dad, acceptance that it had to be the right thing, and confidence that Yusuf knew what was best.

Without any warning, Yusuf slammed forward, his huge belly thumping into the small of our father’s back.

“Holy fucking fucking fuck! Fuck, Yusuf, fuck!” he screamed, clearly not expecting the intense feeling of his youngest son’s cock deep in him. I was shocked to hear my father, who I’d always known as a soft-spoken, kind, polite man…a man I’d never so much as heard curse once…scream the ‘F’ word five times in little under three seconds.

“You like that dick in your hole, Pops?” Yusuf taunted, cock to the root within our dad.

“Fuck yes, son. Fuck you’re perfect. Fuck, please change me. Please. Make me sexy like you. I look too much like ugly Edgar. I need to look like you. Please, boy. Please!”

Yusuf smirked at me, which I’d have been a bit offended by if anyone other than him had given me such a smug look after my own father called me ugly. But Yusuf clearly was letting me know he saw me. That he was here for me.

That he was my brother no matter what.

“Go ahead, Eddie. I’ve already kinda installed your directions. Grab Pops with the left glove. It’s time,” Yusuf assured.

I nodded at him, knowing that to fully help our father, I needed to help him look like Yusuf.

I didn’t know why…I couldn’t piece it together…but I couldn’t deny the fact that I knew I had to.

I reached out, grabbing onto my father’s wrist with my left hand. His nude body was quivering while Yusuf pulled out, getting ready to slam himself deep within him again. His eyes had rolled into the back of his head, experiencing what he now thought was the sexiest act he could ever do: getting fucked by his youngest son.

Once again, I felt my consciousness pull out of my own head, through my father’s wrist, and up into his brain. This time, however, I could tell I was at the back of his brain where he’d be processing what he saw.

There was a strange feeling, like I could concentrate and see what he was seeing at this moment. Granted, he’d been frozen once I entered his mind, so his eyes were rolled into the back of his from the pleasure of being plowed by Yusuf, but I now knew that my physical changes would start at my father’s eyes and move their way through his body.

The power of the left glove seemed so much simpler than the right; I didn’t need to hop from place to place, inputting ideas or pulling out parts of my father’s very psyche. This time, I just need to push forward the image in my mind. I knew, instinctively, that his body would reflect them onto his physical form.

So I focused on the image of the man I knew Yusuf and I needed to make our father.

First and foremost, he needed to be Middle Eastern, just like his favorite son. Clearly, I’d put in an intense attraction to Yusuf before, so taking him from Caucasian to Middle Eastern was the first step in ensuring Pops loved how he looked.

I felt his eyes begin to shift from the bright blue that looked so much like the ones I’d inherited to a dark brown, nearly black iris to match is black pupils. The skin around his eyes was next to change, expanding outward in all directions.

His pale, white skin darkened considerably as his eyebrows, too, turned pitch black and expanded into a unibrow, thick with tiny, coarse black hairs. His nose broadened as his lips turned two shades darker and plumped out slightly.

I sensed the bushy facial hair sprouting on the strong jaw Dad had given Fred and me. The beard grew and grew, finally stopping about six inches from his chin, leaving him with a burly beard hanging slightly down his chest.

I’d always wondered why Yusuf hadn’t inherited the firm jaw like Fred and I had. As if answering my question, I intuitively altered it, making his face pudgier and less defined, like his more round-faced youngest son. As his white hair changed to a darker black with hints of salt-and-pepper streaks, I imagined that my father’s sparkling eyes and general facial structure were all that was left of him. He was going to have a fatter face, but still be recognizably the ‘Robert Berger’ I’d loved my entire life.

As his face solidified into its new look, I brought the darker skin down his neck, which thickened with a bit of fat. His shoulders also thickened, as did his pecs, which were now hefty ‘moobs’ jutting out with an absolute tangle of dark black hair. Punctuating the tips of his much larger male boobs with dark nipples, the changes went down his arms and onto his abdomen at the same time.

His arms lost all their muscular definition, now becoming large hair-covered beams protruding from his shoulders. At the same time, his belly began expanding outwards. More and more fat built upon itself until my father gained a large, firm belly. His belly button disappeared behind a blanket of fur. While my father was getting larger, it was clear he wasn’t merely going to be a flabby mess. If anything, he’d be a barrel-chested, strong man with a firm gut…almost like a gorilla.

As his arms became a few shades darker and expanded, his hands, too, became larger, completing the two limbs. The belly finished, all that was left were the strong, pale white legs that had to look ridiculous attached to the much heavier man.

His thighs inflated and turned the same brown shade Petey, Johnny, and Danny now had. Hair grew on every part, while the changes reached his dick, balls, and butt.

His cock began to thicken considerably at the base, taking the already thick white cock he’d had and nearly doubling it. As it darkened in tone, it also shrank. And shrank. And shrank…until it was an uncut, thick chode of only about two to three inches. His cock was now even smaller than that of the triplets, but, by a slight margin, the thickest of the men in the room.

His balls, however, expanded to a nearly inhuman size. His smaller balls doubled…then tripled…then quadrupled in size until his sack contained a pair of balls that, individually, were each likely tennis ball sized. It was almost funny how huge his balls looked next to the small cock that, as the pubes sprung out, was almost completely hidden.

His ass cheeks, too, each began to grow to an insanely large size. Bigger and bigger they grew as hair covered them, leaving two humongous hairy watermelons behind him. Despite becoming what many would consider a fat, large man, my father’s ass was still firm without a hint of sagging, even at his older age. I could tell that, with every thrust Yusuf was likely still giving him, the fatty, plump globes would jiggle enticingly.

Just to help out Yusuf even more, I made sure his rectum became nice and tight, a perfect little fuck-hole for his dick. I was straight, so I wasn’t sure how I knew how to make a rectum feel good for a cock, but as I pushed out the command for the body to mold itself, I knew I was doing it correctly. Yusuf’s dick, which would still be plowing him as I changed him, had to feel the new rectal cock-sheath forming. I imagined Yusuf was in heaven knowing our father’s hole was perfectly molded for his pleasure.

His privates now completely shifted, the remainder of the white legs continued to change. His calves became large (and hairy, of course) as his feet widened to support the larger body my father would now inhabit. The tufts of hair growing on each toe and the dorsum of his foot completed the new look my father would now have.

All told, I could tell this was a stark departure from the man he’d been before. The father I’d known was always a smaller framed yet fit, minimally hairy-bodied, white man with blue eyes and blonde hair that had whitened over time.

Now, he had to have gained one hundred to one hundred and fifty pounds of fat and muscle, was as hairy as (and had the body of) an ape, and had the largest set of balls and ass with the smallest penis I’d ever seen.

In short, my father was not only a completely different person mentally and emotionally. Now, Yusuf and I had ensured he was an absolute stranger to us physically as well.

Knowing I’d finished my next task, I allowed myself to push out of his mind yet again, feeling that strange warping feeling as my very being traveled back into my own body.

Like whiplash, I came to, hearing, smelling, and seeing the room once more. Not a whole lot had changed in the few moments I was inside his mind. Clearly, changing him physically was much easier for me than altering his emotions and personality.

Suddenly, I jumped hearing the roar next to me, “Jesus fucking Christ, Yusuf. Keep fucking me. I’m so fucking horny for you, son! Hngh, hngh, hngh.”

With each thrust Yusuf buried deep into our father, Pops let out a loud grunt of pleasure, “Fuck, Pops. I can’t even describe how fucking hot it was for you to be changing while I fucked you. Your asshole actually got tighter and almost seemed to be actively massaging my dick while it grew into these massive pumpkins!”

Yusuf kept fucking in and out as he grabbed a hold of the fleshy masses surrounding his genitals and gave them a tight squeeze. With handfuls of each, there was still a large amount of fatty tissue bulging at the seams. I’d truly given my father the fattest ass I think anyone had ever had.

“Oh, God, son. It feels so good, hngh, to feel you fucking, hngh, me while squeezing, hngh, my new ass! I can’t wait to, hngh, see all of me, hngh. I can feel how, hngh, much stronger I am and, hngh, I just know I look so much, hngh, more like you, boy,” Dad offered, his large body pulsing with every lunge forward my brother gave his hole.

“Believe me, Pops…you’re a work of art. Right boys?”

Looking over at my nephews for the first time since I was back in my body, I could see they were an absolute tangle of hairy limbs. While I was in their grandfather’s mind morphing him into this new form, they’d clearly gone to town on one another. One was lying on their back on the floor, face completely covered by one of his siblings’ large ass. The one sitting on his face was arched forward, trying to suckle on the erection of the brother who was riding the one on the floor’s cock. Bucking up and down, he was fucking himself on his brother while his other brother tried to give him a blowjob, but was failing to keep the bobbing dick in his mouth while the dick-crazed boy pleasured himself on his brother’s dick.

“Oh fuck yeah, Daddy! Pop-Pop looks so much better now that he’s not icky looking. Much sexier now…mmmmmm…fuck!” the one with the dick up his ass moaned while his cock erupted with cum onto his brother’s face.

“Oh, yummy!” the one who’d been trying to suck him off said as large wads of semen blasted him. Like a maniac, he began scooping at the seed and rolling his tongue all around his lips to get as much of his brother’s dick juice into his mouth, “Bro-seed is second only to Daddy-seed on the yummy-yum scale.”

“I bet you Pop-Pop seed tastes good too! Mmmm…fuuuuck,” the orgasming boy said in response.

“Mnghghgmmmggghh,” the one who was being suffocated by the butt added.

“You boys are the best sons a guy could ask for,” Yusuf stated lovingly.

I just sat there, unsure what I should be doing as a straight man hanging out with his, well…very gay family while they had sex with one another. I twiddled my fingers on my knees a little, not really knowing if I should stay or go, but knowing, without a doubt, I didn’t want to offend Yusuf. As he continued growling and grunting as he fucked our father, I let out a little cough.

Looking at me, “Oh, fuck, Eddie. With this amazing ass strangling my dick so perfectly, I forgot you were even here! Great work completely changing Pops for me. Brother Fred is next, but I’ll handle that one. I wanted to try something a little different anyway. Just…give me a few…moments…” Yusuf stated as he started thrusting into Pops even faster, clearly trying to get off.

“Hnnnggghhh, oh Yuuuusuf…I fucking loooove yooooooou!” Pops moaned, likely cumming on the couch. If the huge balls I’d given him were any indication, he was likely just as much of a semen-producer as the boys were. In fact, I wasn’t entirely sure if he hadn’t already had multiple orgasms just from this one round of sex.

“I love yooooou, Pops!” Yusuf finally shrieked as he bottomed out deep within our father. Spasms struck him as he orgasmed, twitching slightly with every movement. His cock was, in all likelihood, spraying a load deep within our dad.

In response, Dad just moaned incoherently again, “Hnnnggmgmmmmmmm,” as he shivered, possibly letting lose another small orgasm knowing his favorite son had just claimed his insides with his spunk.

“Fucking damn. This ass is a god-damn work of art, Pops. I’m gonna need to plow it over and over. You cool with that?” Yusuf asked, a hint of knowing in his question.

“Hmmmggnnnmmm mmmm,” our exhausted dad responded, completely melted into the couch from the pure sexual bliss he felt.

I sat there and watched Yusuf as he pulled his softening penis out of the tight hole I’d made for him…for Pops…for me? I wasn’t entirely sure why I’d done that. But I knew Yusuf had assured me it was for the best for some reason.

As if hearing my thoughts, Yusuf gloated, “So, Pops. Still missing our mom? You think you’re over her death now?”

Oh yeah! I’d done it to help Pops with his grief!

“Ooooh, Yuuusuf…yooou’re all I neeeed. Forrrget youuur mom. She’s gooone. It’s all us noow,” Pops slurred, still deflated into the couch, “You and yooour boys are aaaall I need.”

With that, Yusuf slapped his ass hard, eliciting another loud moan from Pops and a massive jiggle of those fat cheeks, “Good to hear. Roaring success there, Eddie-boy! Pops is exactly how he should be now! Be proud of your work, bro!”

And, just like that, all the doubts faded away. Dad was happy again without any weight of our mother’s loss on his mind in any way. Yusuf was right, as he always was.

I should have just leaned into my never-ending trust of my brother. He did know best. I’d let my doubts and overly paranoid mind creep in and it left me confused.

I just needed to know Yusuf would never steer me wrong.

“All right, Numbnuts. Get up,” he said, looking at me, “We gotta go bring big brother into the fold.”

Without a thought about anything else, I stood up and started to leave the living room with Yusuf. Glancing back, I could see cum dripping out of Dad’s ass, who was still collapsed into the couch recovering from the best sex he’d ever had.

Like bloodhounds, the boys seemed to sniff out some of their father’s cum in the room. The boy riding his brother turned to look, making his brother who was still trying to eat his cum follow his sudden shifting attention.

“Oh my God, Daddy-spunk!” the triplet on the dick shouted.

“Where?!” exclaimed the triplet who was straddling his brother’s face with his ass while slurping away at any remaining cum he could find.

“Hwha?!” the ass-eating one shouted through the muffled cheeks.

Like a lightning bolt, the boy detached himself from the thick cock and lunged at his grandfather’s ass. The moment his tongue hit its target, Dad let out another loud moan, clearly loving his grandchild’s mouth machinations on his sensitive, recently-fucked anus.

“No! Not fair,” the one sitting on his brother’s face screeched, pushing his way off and trying to shove his brother out of the way so he could lick his grandfather’s leaking hole.

Red-faced and sweaty, the last boy leaned up onto his arms and looked over at his brothers, “Did you guys say Daddy-spunk?! I want some!”

He got to his feet too and tried to force his way into the limited space, eager to get a taste of his father’s droppings from within their ‘Pop-Pop’s rectum.

“Stop! Stop shoving, dummy!” the first one there said, pulling his head off his grandfather’s hole and looking towards the third triplet.

The second one swooped in, forcing his tongue deep into the hole, “Mmmm!”

“Stop hogging it! I want some too!” the third one shouted.

“Nah-uh,” the second replied, allowing the first the opportunity to take his place again.

“No fair! I’m gonna tell Daddy on you both if you don’t share!” the third said.

As we exited the room, the sound of the arguing continued behind us. My nude brother, happily swaying his soft junk around, put his arm around me. Still fully clothed, I felt a bit overdressed compared to him, my father, and my nephews, but I wasn’t about to partake or anything.

I was straight!

Before I could focus too much on feeling a bit different than everyone else in the family, Yusuf commented, “Those boys of mine, eh? Real little shits, don’t you think?”

I smiled, “Aw, they’re sweet in their own way. Maybe a bit immature. And, well, maybe kinda…”

“Stupid as fuck? Yeah. Can’t be helped at this point. The dumbfucks just want to please their Daddy. Nothing else really matters to them. Poor guys will likely never get the chance to live outside my home, ya know? Just too fucking dense. I don’t think they’d survive without their Daddy to take care of ‘em.”

I nodded, “Well, I maybe wouldn’t put it that harshly, but…yeah. They’re kinda dumb. But we still love them all the same! Family is family.”

Yusuf laughed, “Yeah. Family certainly is family. And it’s looking like more and more are looking like me and less like you! Kinda crazy, don’t you think?”

Having reached the door to the kitchen, we stopped, Yusuf staring intently at me, awaiting a reply.

“Well, I guess so. But you seem to know what you’re doing. I had some, well, confusing thoughts as to why we did that to Dad. Once you made sure he felt better about Mom passing, though, it all made sense.”

“Yeah? It makes sense to you that I wanted you to make our father a burly, incest-obsessed gorilla who only loves, cares about, and lusts for me? It makes sense that you ensured he didn’t care about you or Fred nearly as much as me? All because it helped him get over our, uh, mom?” Yusuf asked, looking at me cockily.

I smiled broadly and nodded, “Well, when you put it all like that, it does seem like a strange route to take. But, well, he’s clearly not thinking about Mom any more. Even if, you know…it affects my relationship with him.”

“And Fred’s?” he asked.

“And Fred’s,” I replied quickly.

“How happy it makes me that you were willing to make that important choice on behalf of our older brother. Why don’t you head on in there so you can really show how much you care about Fred. Your stupid wife already knows the next step. Just follow her lead.”

I smiled again, putting aside the insult he’d said about Becky, excited to be helping Yusuf even more. Walking into the kitchen, I could see Fred was sitting there on a barstool, looking a little bored, as Becky leaned over the oven, the smell of cooking turkey filling the room.

“Hey, guys. Any help needed in here?” I asked, feeling a need to not mention anything happening out in the living room or Yusuf waiting on the other side of the door.

“Well, she says she doesn’t need much help but keeps insisting I stay in the room with her. I wasn’t, uh, sure what else to do. Every time I suggest I leave, she blocks the exit and tells me to stay put. But I thought I heard some weird noises coming from out there. Everything okay?” Fred responded, Becky not even really acknowledging I was there beyond a small grunt and a knowing nod, as if she were indicating my presence meant something.

“Uh, what did you think you heard?” I asked, taking a seat on the barstool next to my older brother.

Fred chuckled, “I mean…it all sounded like grunts and, well, kinda sexual. But it was just you and Dad in there?”

“Well, the boys joined us, but not sure what you heard, honestly. We were all just hanging out,” I lied, knowing I shouldn’t tell him what was going on in there quite yet for some reason.

“Strange. But, well, your wife has been running around like a chicken with her head cut off. Won’t even let me try to help. I’ve been offering; so don’t think I’m some kind of lazy brother-in-law,” Fred stated with a smile.

“I’d never think that of you, bro. I’m sure she’ll ask for help if she needs it, right babe?” I asked, unsure if I was helping with the plan she had.

“Mm-hm. I will. Just a few more minutes though,” she replied, rushing to the other side of the counter to begin crumpling some bread crumbs on top of green beans, an old family recipe we’d had every Thanksgiving since we married.

“All right,” Fred responded, then leaned in and whispered, “That’s more words than she’s spoken the entire time I’ve been in here. Did you break your wife, Ed-bear?”

Hearing the nickname I knew my father always used to call me hit my heart like a knife, but I didn’t let it show. Fred didn’t know our father now despised us…meaning my nickname would likely never be uttered by him again.

Grinning, I whispered back, fighting back the sadness from hearing ‘Ed-bear’, “I’d never. You know how much I love her! I just think this Thanksgiving means more to her because it’s our first without Mom. She just wants it to be special.”

Fred blushed and sat up, “That…that makes sense. You’ve got a good woman there, bro. Not like Stacy. If she wasn’t Danny’s mother, I’d have nothing to do with her again.”

I nodded sympathetically. I knew Fred never really liked talking about his ex-wife, but in the two years since they split (after Danny had left the house for college), he’d mentioned her a handful of times. It had been rather contentious because she’d cheated on him, but in the past few months, he’d really been opening up a bit more with me.

Honestly, losing our mom had brought us closer. I truly did care deeply for my older brother.

It was just a shame that I needed to make Dad disgusted with him and that Yusuf needed to take his own son and make him an identical triplet for a trio of ridiculously stupid and horny gay sluts.

Putting my arm around him, “I got you, bro. We’ll find you someone better. I promise.”

Fred hugged me back, saying nothing, but exuding love in a way that reminded me of our father…well, of who our father used to be.

Glancing over at Becky, she simply nodded, walking towards the refrigerator. Silently, I nodded back slightly, knowing that whatever the plan was, it was about to happen. I kept hugging Fred, holding him close. I know he needed his brother in this moment and, honestly, given what I’d just done to our father, I needed mine.

As I held him, I saw Becky approaching behind him. Suddenly, she stumbled, or at least pretended to. A large pitcher launched forwards, splashing all over Fred’s back.

“What in the…?!” Fred gasped, leaning backwards instantly. The smell of lemonade filled my nostrils as I realized my wife had spilled a pitcher full of the drink on my brother, drenching him completely in the sticky beverage.

“Oh my goodness, Fred. I’m so sorry!” Becky said, looking at the completely soaking wet man and starting to pull at his dripping shirt, “Take that off, I’ll put in the wash.”

Fred stood up and spread his arms out and downward, shaking his arms slightly to try to remove some of the excess lemonade dripping down his arms and back. Becky, still pulling at his shirt, started to annoy Fred, who began swatting at her a little as he obviously continued trying to process what had just happened, “No, it’s fine, Becky. I’ll, um…”

“I insist. It was my fault. Let me wash your dirty, wet clothes now,” Becky demanded, giving me a nod.

Realizing this must be part of Yusuf’s plan, I echoed, “Just let her, bro. You saw how focused she was on cooking alone; she’s definitely not going to take no for an answer with this.”

Fred glanced at me then back at Becky, “Fine. But let me go change up in your room. Perhaps I can borrow some of Ed’s…”

“No, no, don’t be silly. You’ll be dripping all over my house. Take it off now,” Becky fumed, showing how serious she was.

Fred, giving her a confused look, acquiesced, “Uh, sure…”

Swiftly, Becky began pulling Fred’s shirt up, the fabric pulling at his now glistening and sticky skin. As he flailed a bit, trying to control her urgent attempt to strip him, his shirt ended up getting stuck on his neck. With his help, the damp shirt was pulled up and over, leaving my brother shirtless.

Becky grabbed his shirt quickly, not allowing Fred to keep it. Fred, for his part, gave Becky a look of bewilderment, very likely unable to understand her desperation for him to have him take his clothes off right here, right now in the kitchen.

Then, he jumped as she charged forward, reaching for the button on the fly of his dress pants.

“Becky, geeze, what the heck has gotten into you?” Fred asked, walking backwards from her.

“You got lemonade on your pants too. You can’t keep those dirty clothes on and I can’t let you leave a trail of sugary drink all over my house. So you need to take those off too,” Becky explained, fire in her eyes.

Fred, flabbergasted, gave me a look begging for support. I smiled politely at him, “She’s not wrong, bro. She got you good with that lemonade.”

My older brother looked defeated, standing in our kitchen shirtless and left with a syrupy sheen. Becky reached out again, forcing him to swat her hand away and taking another step back.

“Okay, okay. But let me do it,” Fred sighed with his hand up in a stop gesture towards Becky. Then, slowly, he began unbuttoning his pants and pulling down the zipper.

Reluctantly, he began removing each leg from his soiled pants. Once he removed them, he awkwardly held it in front of his bulge with both hands, unsure what to do next.

Becky, unphased, reached out her hand in a clear ‘gimme’ motion. Handing his pants to my wife, my brother stood there, wearing only his socks and white Hanes briefs, immediately placing both his hands in front of his crotch.

Fred, his face red and embarrassed, stood there in front of me shuffling from socked foot to socked foot. I’d seen my brother in swimming trunks occasionally, but not in quite a long time. He’d stayed in shape, something that I was happy to say all my family were devoted to doing.

His slightly darker blonde hair was cut short, blue eyes avoiding my gaze. His hairless jaw was clenched while his arms, chest, and abs were all strained in his effort to conceal himself. Like me and the rest of our family…other than Yusuf…and my sons and Fred’s son and our father who’d been changed…he was pale and hairless, pink, hard nipples on his reddening chest. His legs were also long, muscular, and flexed, his entire body a showcase to his shame at being so scantily clad in front of his brother and sister-in-law.

“Uh, Ed,” he interjected, “Could you, maybe…help me get some, uh, clothes?”

Knocked out of my reverie, I smiled, nodding in agreement, “Of course!”

With a glance at Becky, who gave me a mischievous smirk that reminded me of Yusuf, I walked Fred towards the double-swinging doors as Becky walked towards our back sunroom where we kept our trash cans, rather than downstairs to our washer and dryer.

Figuring her smirk meant I was following Yusuf’s plan, I only hoped he was ready on the other side to achieve his plan as we approached the door. Leading the way, I opened it, glancing to my right to see Yusuf pressed against the wall as if he were hiding.

Fred, following close behind, exited the kitchen as well, instinctively moving his head in the direction I’d looked.

“What in the hell? Who are…” Fred screeched as Yusuf reached out, grabbing his upper arm with his gloved left hand.

Instantly, Fred’s alarmed face froze, relaxing slightly as Yusuf’s eyes rolled back into his head as it had so many times today.

From the living room, I could still hear the three younger men bickering about something or another. It was a dull roar from here, but ‘Daddy’ and ‘cum’ and ‘penis’ kept breaking through the blur of words.

Looking back at Yusuf, I suddenly realized that, rather than Fred standing there as his brain was rewired to correct his line of thinking to Yusuf’s standard, his face was beginning to tan as his vacant eyes turned dark brown.

Yusuf was changing Fred’s body first this time! This was definitely a different approach to what I’d seen with Becky, or when I’d changed my father. This, secretly, left me somewhat more excited to watch.

As hair sprouted on his firm jaw, I saw his features altar slightly, only to create an even more handsome, angular face. Then, as the darker skin spread downward, my brother, who in his mid-40s still had a relatively muscular chest, developed a practically perfect pair of round pecs. Hair sprouted on the firmer, bigger muscles and the nipples darkened as his strong arms became even more defined.

His tan skin only highlighted just how attractive and fit he was becoming. A faint hint of a six-pack appeared on his thicker abs…even as his torso shifted slightly to give him an appealing ‘V-shape’. His butt, still covered in the white briefs, expanded a bit from the top, filling in as it ballooned downward. The fabric stretched with it, getting tighter and tighter as his large ass became quite the pair of peaches.

Then, in the front, the already slightly prominent bulge expanded even more. I could tell my brother’s privates, which he’d been hiding until he was relaxed by Yusuf’s glove, were already straining his underwear a bit.

Now, as I could see the large moose-knuckle not only widen, but expand outward, clearly becoming an above normal-sized masculine tool.

His thighs widened and firmed up to support the larger cock and butt, and as it finished his calves and feet, I was left awe-struck with what I saw.

I could still make out the features that had made Fred, well, Fred. But now he was a Middle Eastern model version of my older brother. He looked like a 20- or 30-something supermodel…someone that would be seen flexing on the front page of Men’s Health or walking the runways of Milan.

My somewhat standard, white, hairless, handsome older brother had, at Yusuf’s hand, become an incredibly attractive, hairy, Arabic god.

Then, as Yusuf’s eyes rolled back down and saw his work in the real world come to fruition, Fred, too, returned to consciousness.

“…You? Why are you here?!” Fred finished the thought he’d had before he’d been invaded by the powerful glove and altered physically.

Then, quite suddenly, his eyes crossed, as if noticing there was something off about his nose. It had expanded a bit to frame his angular, model-like face. The darker tint of his skin, too, may have caught his attention. Like a flash, he brought his hands up to his jaw. Feeling his facial hair, he started patting at it, unsure of what he was feeling.

Looking down, Fred gasped.

“What in the hell! What in the…what?! How?! What?!?” my brother squealed, his deep, masculine voice still sounding scared beyond belief.

“What’s wrong? Use your words, bro,” Yusuf venomously hissed.

“I…this…I’m not…what?!” Fred stuttered, patting his own body with his now veiny, strong, Middle Eastern hands. He grabbed at his chest hair, confirming it was attached to him. He felt his larger biceps and then flexed and stroked his strong abs.

Then he reached down, pulled his underwear forward, and, with wide eyes, looked at the tool he now had between his legs.

Reaching in, he rummaged within his briefs, ensuring what he saw was real and not his imagination. Obviously realizing it was, indeed, his new penis, he reached around, squeezing at his large new butt cheeks.

Frozen with his hands clasped on his strong, round ass, Fred looked away from his own body towards Yusuf and then towards me. He truly looked stunned into complete disbelief.

Then, softly, he just said, “Ed?”

I reassured him with a loving smile, “I know. This must be strange. But Yusuf has been helping set us all straight. He just wants our family to be happy.”

Fred didn’t really react to my words beyond looking over at Yusuf. He continued to stare and keep his large behind firmly in the grasp of his two hands, as if unable to even move any longer.

Pulling his hands out, he took a slow step towards our younger brother, “You…how did you do…it had to be…” he stuttered, unable to complete a thought as stunned as he was left.

“Yes, indeed, it was me. But you look great, Freddie! No reason to be upset!” Yusuf explained, taking a few steps in my direction, trying to get me between him and our newly insanely sexy, masculinized older brother.

Seeing the anger in Fred’s eyes (even though he looked different, there was no denying he still had the same expression he’d always had when angry), I interjected, “Honestly, Fred. It all will make sense. Yusuf will help. His right glove…”

“He’s not touching me again,” he said, lunging forward, trying to reach behind me to grab him. His nearly nude body brushed against me, powerful with the added muscle mass Yusuf had given him. I was still able to hold him back, not wanting him to take his anger out on Yusuf, who was only being helpful.

“Tell ya what: I can tell you’re upset, Freddie. But you don’t have to worry, bro. All will be made right in a bit. But I’m runnin’ out of time until the next phase might get started so I’m gonna go help out my boys and Pops understand why you look so different to them real fast. Shouldn’t take long.

“Eddie boy? Could you keep Freddie here company for about five minutes? Try to ease that hot-head of his. I’ll holler and let you know when we’re ready. Sound good?” Yusuf stated, causing a surge of appreciation for his thoughtfulness to wash through me.

Fred, still glaring at our fat, nude younger brother, seethed in front of me. Then, once Yusuf rounded the corner he began looking down at his attractive form, taking it all in once more…

I smiled, approaching my confused and angry brother. I laughed as I watched him, reaching around all the new muscles and feeling them, petting his newly hairy body, and looking as though he couldn’t process anything that was happening. He was obviously in shock.

“Bro, relax. Yusuf is just making sure all of us in the family are who we need to be. He did the same to Becky and I helped him do the same to Dad.”

Looking up as he flexed his left bicep and squeezed it with his right hand, he angrily responded, “What do you mean did the same to Becky and Dad? What in hell did that ugly, weird guy do to us?”

I put my hands up in a ‘I’m safe’ gesture, easing forward again, “I just mean that Yusuf is an incredibly smart, reliable man. He wouldn’t do anything unless he knew it was the best for our family. I can’t really explain to you why he made you look like this entirely, but even you have to admit you look pretty good?”

Fred, giving a sarcastic smile…the first time he’d smiled in any way since he’d changed, an action that made the impossibly attractive man somehow even more so…replied, “Ed. I’m Arabic now. He changed my race. He changed my body without my consent. How can you expect me to care that I look ‘pretty good’?”

I let out a small chuckle, “I mean, that’s fair, bro. I just mean, for now, you can make the best of a situation you weren’t expecting, you know? Like, when he first changed Becky with his invention, she became really happy! Like, I’m completely sure that Yusuf wanted to make sure she was happy making the Thanksgiving meal…something she had so much anxiety around.”

“Okay…still insane, Ed,” he responded, his smile seemingly becoming more genuine.

I laughed to keep the mood light, “For sure it is, I get that. It’s all really science fiction. I wouldn’t have believed it either if I hadn’t used Yusuf’s gloves to help Dad with his grief over Mom too. You should see him, Ed. Dad obviously still held onto a lot of sadness over Mom. He has absolutely none of that anymore. I truly helped him with Yusuf’s assistance!”

The smile faded slightly, “But bro, the grief was necessary. The grief, just like Dad has said over and over since her passing, was important to hold on to. It helped him, and all of us, for that matter, hold onto our memories and love for Mom. You can’t just change someone completely without repercussions, Ed. Yusuf is not a good guy here. He’s clearly abusing this power he created. Just…please tell me I’m the only one that he’s changed physically. It sounds like Dad was only changed emotionally and Becky was clearly still her. I’m the only one he’s altered physically, right?”

I stopped approaching and froze.

“Right?” he repeated, demanding an answer.

I hesitated. I knew he would likely be upset, but I knew I had to answer him. I loved him, after all.

“Well, Dad has changed a bit too. I did that. And, well, he did seem to change Danny into…”

“Danny?! Wait, what. He did something to Danny?” he interrupted, instantly losing all the calm I’d provided. He lunged at me, grabbing my shirt and pulling me towards him.

With his new strength, it seemed easy for him to completely manhandle me as he held me there, eye-to-eye, awaiting an answer. Awkwardly, I could feel his much larger tool digging into my pelvis as he seemed completely unaware of his intimate parts rubbing against his straight brother.

I stammered, unsure of what to say and startled by such an intense reaction. Shaking me, Fred just repeated again, “What did he do to Danny?” then, softer, as if realizing all I’d said, “And what else did you do to Dad?”

I brought my hands up to his thick wrists and slowly encircled them, trying to calm my now insanely powerful brother. Tenderly, I pushed downward, encouraging him to let me go, “Relax, bro. Relax. I’ll tell you. Just relax.”

Rather than listen, he looked behind me. I knew I couldn’t overpower him if he chose to storm into the living room.

The anger was absolutely radiating from him, he shoved me back against the dining room table, causing me to lose my balance. Then, he started storming towards the living room.

Flailing wildly, I got myself back to my feet, trying to stop my brother from entering the room before I knew Yusuf would be ready for him. Yusuf said he needed about five minutes. I wasn’t sure if it had been quite that long.

Running up behind him, I tried to grab him, but he yanked his arm out of my grasp easily. Not even remotely phased by my efforts, he made his way through the door and into the entryway like a man on the most important mission of his life.

Behind him, I protested, trying to get him to wait. Trying to get him to stop. Trying, desperately, with only my words to help my insane brother realize that Yusuf wasn’t ready and that we really shouldn’t interrupt our brother until he said he was ready.

Fred opened the living room through the small hallway and through the door frame. I rushed in after him, happy to see he’d frozen in his tracks so I could stand next to him.

I could see that Yusuf was sitting on the couch next to Pops and had just let go of our father with his gloved right hand. His two…three now, I suppose…sons at his feet looking up at him longingly. I assumed he’d already told (or used the glove) on the three of them and then had used the glove on Pops.

Fred, still frozen in shock, just stared at the five nude and erect men in front of him.

Yusuf sat, smirking confidently towards the two of us, next to Pops. All three of the boys, nude as the day they were born, were staring up at their father (me knowing that whichever one was Danny had no clue he wasn’t actually his father) and were gently rubbing his fat, sweaty, hairy privates, belly, legs, and feet.

And Pops came to life after having had Yusuf’s right glove on him, spreading his huge legs wide, hairy belly practically burying his rock-hard short dick.

“Wh…where’s Danny…where’s my…” Fred started.

Before he could say anything else though, “What the fuck, dumbasses. Why the fuck are you interrupting your brother? Why the fuck you two in here? Shouldn’t you little fairy queens be off cooking or cleaning or some shit? Let the real men relax without your ugly fucking mugs ruining my appetite. Jesus Christ, you make me nauseous!” Pops bellowed, louder and more obnoxious than I’d ever heard him.

Giggling like little boys, the men at Yusuf’s feet pointed at both Fred and I until one of them started pointing, “Stupid, ugly Uncle Freddie and stupid, ugly Uncle Eddie!”

The boy next to him, now on all fours and leaning down about to start licking at Yusuf’s fat right foot, laughed, “Yeah! Not like Daddy or Pop-Pop! They’re manly and sexy and perfect and I love them and lust them and…and…mmmm…” he stopped as his tongue made contact with his father’s rancid foot.

The final identical boy reached out and grasped at his grandfather’s huge leg, holding it tight and hugging it like a beloved stuffed animal that brought him comfort just smiled innocently, “Pop-Pop doesn’t like you two Uncle Poo-Poo Heads. So I don’t like you either. Stupid Uncle Freddie and Uncle Eddie”

Yusuf reached down and ruffled all three of his adult son’s heads, “Now boys. They’re still family. Even Pop-Pop can agree to that at least.”

With a hmph, Pops growled again, “Sure. I won’t kick em out. Family takes care of family. Even when they’re ugly fuck-ups. Jesus, boys, why couldn’t you be more like your brother, Yusuf?”

The room was silent for a few moments, other than the sound of slight moans of happiness from the boys…along with little slurps from the one licking his father’s toes.

“Who…?” Fred whimpered, staring at the five men in front of him. After a moment, he looked down at his new hands again, confused by how different they were, “What…?” and finally, once he’d realized there was no answer there, he looked at me one more time, “How…?”

And then the doorbell rang.

4 parts (1 new) 49k words (#73) Added Mar 2024 Updated 13 Apr 2024 3,238 views 2.5 stars (13 votes)

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