The Hidden Weekend

Three months after the Cotswolds estate, the Voss brothers surprised Luca with a long weekend away. They told him to pack light and meet them at a private airstrip outside London. No questions allowed.

The private jet was sleek and small—just the three of them and a discreet pilot. Luca sat between Alexander and Julian, their hands casually on his thighs, as the plane climbed into the early evening sky.

“Where are we going?” Luca finally asked, voice low.

Julian leaned in, lips brushing his ear. “Somewhere we can be completely alone. No staff. No phones. Just us.”

Alexander’s fingers tightened on Luca’s leg. “We’ve been too careful lately. Work, schedules, appearances. We need to remember who we are when no one’s watching.”

They landed on a small island off the coast of Scotland, an old stone manor the Voss family had owned for generations, now used only by them. No neighbors. No roads. Just a private dock, a helipad, and miles of rugged coastline.

Inside, the house was warm, lit by fireplaces and low lamps. The brothers had arrived earlier; everything was ready: dinner on the table, wine poured, a fire crackling.

They ate slowly, talking about nothing important. Then Julian stood, offering Luca his hand.

“Come with us.”

They led him upstairs to the master bedroom, a massive room with a huge four-poster bed, windows overlooking the dark sea. The brothers undressed Luca first, reverently, kissing every inch of skin they uncovered.

Then they undressed each other, slow and deliberate, letting Luca watch the way they touched one another, familiar and loving, but now with room for him in every gesture.

They took him to bed together.

Julian retrieved a silk rope and suede handcuffs from the bedside table. Then he made Luca kneel face down with his perky, smith ass high up in the air, his pink hole slick and twitching with anticipation. Alexander tied his hands and feet to the bed posts, rendering him immobile and helpless.

Julian entered him first, slow and deep, while Alexander kissed Luca’s neck and stroked his cock. Then they switched to Alexander inside him, Julian feeding him his length. They moved in tandem, whispering praise, until Luca was trembling, crying and begging for release.

When they finally both filled him at once; Julian in front, Alexander behind, the stretch was exquisite, overwhelming. Luca came untouched, eyes rolled back in his head, a moaning mess as he clenched  around them, pulling them over the edge with him.

Afterward, they took him again, held him between them with his legs spread obscenely, pounding roughly into his used, overstretched, cum soaked hole, bodies soaked with sweat, hearts pounding in sync until they filled him up with cum once again.

Luca lay utterly spent, trembling, boneless, and dazed  between the twins. Julian kissed his temple. “This is what we want. Always”.

Alexander’s voice was rough. “You’re not just our driver anymore. You’re our home.”

Luca buried his face in Julian’s chest, tears stinging his eyes. “I love you both”. “So fucking much”.

They stayed on the island for four days. No clocks. No plans. Just skin, whispers, laughter, tears caused by extreme pleasure and the sound of the sea.