It felt like a great weight had been taken off our shoulders. We were back, the dynamic duo, the twins extraordinaire. However, it seemed other things had changed between us, ever so slightly.
We found ourselves avoiding the bathroom while the other was in there. While we would still hold hands, we also found a slight distance. Not like before, but we didn't hold hands as much. We didn't give each other friendly kisses on the cheek. We were both finally, and acutely aware, that he was a guy and I was a girl.
I started thinking about how we acted in the past. I guess to anyone who observed us but didn't know us, we would seem like a boyfriend/girlfriend couple. When we would get in playful moods, and tickle each other mercilessly, or wrestle around, we would be more careful where we put our hands. We also did it less and less.
We stopped watching dirty videos together, and started doing our own thing when it came to finding sexual material to satisfy the hormones rushing through our bodies. After all, I had only completed puberty a couple years earlier, and he had just finished not long ago. There were still feelings, and emotions, and itches that we wanted to scratch while being good and saving ourselves for marriage.
Our parents noticed, and were a bit puzzled, but didn't say anything.
As the memory of him naked started fading, I also found I wanted to see him. Oh, he was still my brother, and I didn't want to think of him that way, but he was still the only guy I had ever seen naked. I couldn't get it out of my head, and wanted to see him.
I am not sure how it happened, but, I found myself sneaking around, spying on him while we were doing our own thing.
I would wait until he was in the shower, and the water was going, then crack the door, just slightly, trying to catch sight of him in the mirror. I would crack his bedroom door when I thought I heard something suspicious and see if I could catch him masturbating.
A couple times he caught me, so I just walked in as if that was my intention. He wasn't doing anything though, much to my disappointment.
I found myself walking into his bedroom more often, hoping to catch him doing something. Once, I did.
"Hey!" He yelled. "Out!" He picked up a balled up sock and threw it at me. Later, we laughed about it, and pretended it didn't matter.
At the same time, it seemed sometimes like he wanted me to catch him. I would go to his room door, and find it cracked open slightly when mom and dad weren't at home, with porn playing loudly in his room. I would open the door, just enough to look in, and find him standing there, naked, sweaty, watching the screen as his hand worked his penis. He took long strokes, hand moving from the base to the head, until it the head was resting against his middle and ring finger, then stroke back down.
Mouth slightly open, his hand moved back to the base.
Lips parted, stroke back to the head.
Breathing harder, stroke back down.
Speeding up, his eyes drank in the porn actress, watching her intently.
A little clear liquid dangling from the tip of his penis, to be swept up by his hand cover the head.
The stroked got smaller, faster, no longer going to the base of his penis.
Grabbing the balled sock, he held it against his penis with the other hand.
Stroke up, stroke down, his hand almost a blur.
Eyes closed now, I could see his toes curling against the carpet in his room.
His body now glistening in sweat, he pushed the sock hard against his penis as his hips thrust forward.
I could hear him grunt as he thrust into the sock a couple times, quickly, before standing perfectly still, head thrown back, his sock now stained with his cum. I closed the door silently, off to my own room to get my own toys, and to pleasure myself with the image still clear in my mind.
9/15/2014 2:13 PM
No comments:
Post a Comment