Hubert Porcine's brother Cyrus was walking proof. Big hands, big dick. He was a gentle guy though, more polite than Hubert, and I didn't get to see it until I asked nicely.

Hubert and I had arrived on his scooter in the dark, and I was surprised that Cyrus was up and about. Dressed in overalls he looked much more industrious than Hubert ever would. He had a quick chat with his brother, then grinned, shook his head and insisted the tax collector wouldn't find us there.

Cyrus behaved like a real host, and offered us a seat in the living room, and something to drink. A beer or two later, Hubert was lying down on the sofa, and I needed to be shown where the bathroom was. I had to squeeze past Cyrus in the narrow hallway when I got there. There was plenty of room really, but I pressed up against him anyway. No point in playing hard to get, I say.

When I got back to the living room, Cyrus was sitting there in a big armchair, rubbing a small piece of wood between his fingers. A horse I think it was. He looked up as I walked in.

"Ah, Glenda. How well do you know my brother?"

"I don't, really. We met at a bar tonight."

"So you're not familiar with this?" He waved at the sofa.

Hubert was out cold. His head had fallen and was hanging down towards the floor. His shirt had ridden up his back and exposed his ample stomach. Frankly, he wasn't looking his best. "Oh. No. No offense intended, Cyrus, but I might not have picked him up if he'd looked like that."

"I'm not terribly surprised. Listen, I need to go do something in the workshop, and I didn't want to disappear before you got back."

"Oh. Well, I can... Shit. Can I come with you? What do you need to do? Why aren't you asleep?"

"Oh, yeah, sure. I thought you might want to stay out here. You're most welcome."

"Okay, cool. Let's go."

He stood up from the armchair, and took my hand. He really looked like a vastly improved version of his brother. He talked as he walked me out of the room and down the hallway, the opposite way from the bathroom. "I'm often up at this hour of the night. I don't really like much to be interrupted while I'm working."

"Oh, sorry."

"No, no. You couldn't possibly know. In here."

"Wow, this is big. What the hell do you do, anyway?"

"I manufacture stuff."

"Stuff?"

"Yeah. Wooden stuff mostly. For people who can afford to be picky."

"Tables and chairs?"

"Well, sometimes. Anything, really. So long as it's wooden. Come take a look. I just need to turn that lathe off."

"You carry on. Can I wander around?"

"Yeah, sure. Just ask before you touch anything mechanical."

"You betcha. Man, I love the smell, Cyrus."

"Thank you."

"Not you, the wood!"

"Oh, well." He grinned at me.

I couldn't resist. I walked up close, put my nose to his neck, and sniffed.

"Hey, what the hell?"

"Mmmm... You too."

"Oh?"

"Yep. Now go turn that off."

"Yes, Miss."

"That's better."

I wandered around the room for a few minutes, looking at some of the things he'd made, and he was right. Plates, stools, tables, cabinets, all sorts of things.

In one place he had a pile of smaller wooden items in a cardboard box. I rummaged through them while waiting, and was a little stunned at one of the items I unearthed. I looked over to check that Cyrus hadn't seen me, and then took it with me, trying to find the right place to put it down.

There was a big countertop at the other end of the room, sitting on trestle tables, all polished and shiny. I liked the feel of it, and it seemed to suit the purpose well. I hoisted myself up to sit on the edge of the counter, my bare ass on the shiny wood, my feet hanging in the air in front. I carefully placed the item I'd picked up on the counter behind where I was sitting, and threw a cloth over it.

Cyrus had noticed me by then, and wandered over to see what I was doing. I pointed to a stool in front of me, not too far away. "Sit down, big boy."

"What? We can go back and sit on some real furniture now if you like."

"I'm quite comfortable here, thanks. Sit." He did as he was told, dragging the stool to what would turn out to be a great vantage point directly in front of me. "You know, I really like the feel of this wood on my bare skin."

"Yeah, well it's nice stuff, and I've worked long and hard on that piece. I didn't realise you were going to test it for me, though."

"It passes the test."

"So do you."

"You think?"

"I do."

"Thank you, Mr Porcine. In that case, would you mind answering a question for me?"

"A question? What sort of question?"

"A personal one."

"Oh? Sure."

I reached behind myself on the counter and retrieved the item I'd picked up. I turned back to him, the thing in my hand. I was holding a very large, dark, richly grained wooden dildo. Some sort of mahogany cock, it seemed. "Well?"

He grinned and blushed at once. "Well what? If you've got a question, go right ahead."

"Well, what exactly is this for?"

"For? Why Glenda, it's for masturbating. You didn't know?"

"I'd assumed. So what's it doing in the box?"

"Well, not masturbating, that's for sure. It's a reject, actually."

"Oh?" I rubbed it up and down in my hand. "What's wrong with it? No splinters, I hope."

"Nothing at all. It's just... some of my customers have strange tastes. This one asked me to make another one."

"Kinky. So what did she want to be different?"

"How do you know it was a she? And... size."

"It's too big?"

"Uh uh."

"Oh, God. So you replaced it?"

"Yep. Something a little more... robust."

"Fuck!"

"More or less."

I held the thing and looked at him. Considered. For a moment. Then I slowly slid my knees apart. I watched him as I did it. He wasn't embarrassed, or upset. I could tell from the bulge. I lifted the dress up to give him a good view, and sat for a moment, just enjoying being watched. I put the end of the wooden dildo to my mouth, licking it thoroughly, and then lowered it again, turning it towards myself.

I spread my knees as much as I could, and stared at Cyrus while I impaled myself with his spare cock.

I pushed it in, having a little difficulty with both its width and the lack of lubrication, and then, with it snugly in place, I let go of it, and slowly lifted my knees, feeling the solid pressure of the wooden shaft as I got my feet up on the counter, and spread my knees again.

With him watching my every move, I began to slide the thing in and out, groaning as it stretched me, sighing with the stimulation. Every stroke was a little faster than the one before, and every glance at his staring eyes and solid bulge encouraged me further.

The strange feeling of the dildo, the attentive audience and the rich smell of the wood and my own ripe musk were too much, and I didn't last long. I came with an orgasm that was deliciously close to pain as my muscles did their best to contract on the wooden shaft inside me. It was quick, but it was very nice.

When I calmed down and paid some more attention to what was going on around me I looked over at Cyrus. His cock was still in his pants, but his hand was sliding back and forth over it, and there was a definite stain on his overalls from his dribbling cock.

I sat there for a while, watching him watching me, and then I gently removed the now glistening wooden shaft from between my legs, and started to rub myself gently, in time with what he was doing. I jumped with the first few strokes, but soon got into it, sliding my greedy fingers in and out of myself and sliding them, slippery with my juice, over my clit.

One hand was busy there while I beckoned him with the other. "Come over here, Cyrus. And lose those overalls. I want to see what you've got."

He didn't waste any time. Lifting himself from the stool he unclipped his clothing and dropped his overalls to the floor. I stopped rubbing myself long enough to pull my dress off over my head, and then he was standing in front of me, and we were both naked.

I looked at his cock, and back at the mahogany. Then his cock again. "Why, Cyrus, you modelled for that."

"Well, I didn't know anyone else who wanted to do it... and the lady I made it for... I kinda liked the idea, you know. That she had my cock at her beck and call."

"Oh, dear."

"What?"

"She thought it was too small!"

"Oh, relax. I told you she was kinky."

"Yeah. Listen, I already know... you're just the right size."

"Thanks."

"Would you... would you fuck me? Again?"

He didn't speak at first. Instead he took hold of me and gently lay me back on the counter top, sliding my ass towards him. He lifted my knees and placed my feet back on the warm wood. He parted my knees himself, leaned down and kissed my breasts thoroughly, sucking the nipples one by one into his mouth, biting them gently, and fondling my breasts firmly in his large hands.

I could feel his cock riding against my mound as he moved, and I lifted my hips against him to encourage him to hurry up. He released my breasts, placed his large palms against my knees, leaned forward a little, and impaled me with a single thrust.

I gasped. He grunted. Then he spoke. "That brother of mine? Hubert?"

"I managed to respond, despite feeling overwhelmed. "Yes?"

Cyrus pulled back, withdrawing from me. "He has..." And he thrust again. "...Very... good... taste."

I didn't give him a verbal response. Instead I started to move beneath him, pressing against his thrusts, assisting his momentary withdrawals, sweating towards another release.

Poor Cyrus didn't have the advantage of just having come once, much less the three or four I'd had tonight, and in the end he didn't last long, thrusting quickly and exploding inside me a little before I was ready. I liked the way he came. It was as though his whole body was involved in the movements, rather than just his hard cock.

When he stopped moving he stood there, still inside me, and started to massage me. His large rough thumbs rubbed against the skin between my legs, closer and closer to my sensitive parts, keeping me in suspense until I couldn't stand it any more. I growled in frustration, and lowered my own hands to myself. That was what it took in the end. His large soft cock inside me, his hands on my thighs, and my slutty unrepentant fingers against my overworked clit.

I came again; a slow rumbling thunder of a climax, without the sharp lightning stabs of the last time, but comfortable, warm, stretching, sustained and wonderful.

We were still in position, Cyrus' hands on my hips and his cock falling out of me when Hubert walked in.

"I might have fuckin' known," he grinned, not at all upset. "Fuckin' Wolffe is at the fuckin' door again."

"Fuck!" exclaimed Cyrus, and pulled away from me. It was apparent they were brothers, for their vocabulary as much as their cocks. "Come on. Let's just get in the fucking car."

Hubert nodded. "Now would be good."

I grabbed my dress and jumped to the floor. Cyrus threw his clothes back on, and told me to go with Hubert.

"Aren't you coming?"

"What?" he grinned at me. "Again? Not now, dear."

"No, no. The car."

"Of course. Just need to lock some things."

Hubert nodded at him again. "Be quick."

"Always."

"Yeah," Hubert smiled this time. "Aren't you always?"

Hubert took my hand and we ran back through the house to the internal garage. A large SUV was sitting there, facing the door. By the time we'd piled into the back of the car Cyrus came running back, locked the door behind himself, and climbed into the driver's seat.

He glanced back. "All set?"

Hubert waved him off. "Go, go!"

"Got it."

He started the car, and hit the remote for the garage door. By the time it was opening, the car was in gear and gunning for the exit. The door only just cleared the door by the time we got there, and we squealed out and around the corner.

Hubert kept watch behind us but no one followed. I relaxed, and sat in the seat facing forward. Cyrus grinned at me in the mirror. "Glenda, you going to wear that dress, or just decorate the seat with it?"

I looked down, shocked. "Shit, I never noticed."

"I'll take the credit."

Hubert glanced at us both. "You would."

I waggled my finger at him. "Don't start that shit. You're definitely no better."

He just grinned again.

I thought of something important at that point. "Hey Cyrus..."

Hubert interrupted. "She's going to ask where we are going."

"Yeah."

"But I bet she can guess." He looked at me. "Can't you?"

"Guess?" I shook my head, and then looked up. "Oh, hold on. You Porcine boys have another brother?"

"Gideon," they both answered at once.

"Oh, like in the Bible?"

"Hardly."