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Subject: My Straight Brother 8 Please make a donation to Nifty. This is a mutiple chapter story. If you wish to contact me, you can do so by email. I'll respond to every email. Before you start reading, I want to thank Valentin Delgrado for his help to check my chapters. I got in contact with him after reading his beautiful story Brotherly games. If you want to read a good story check fty//gay/incest/brotherly-games/ Chapter 8 Sometimes I wonder if this is all messed up. I'm a bit confused, to be honest. I never thought it would evolve the way it did. It started innocent and all, but lately, I'm getting really confused. My name is Tim, I'm 21, and big brother to this amazing guy called Sander. I love the little bugger; he's so sweet and innocent, maybe even a bit naïve. Recently, I discovered that he's gay. I was not really surprised, though. I always suspected it, but a year ago he had this amazing girlfriend, so I thought I was wrong. That was until a few weeks ago, when I found out that I was not wrong. The first sign was when I caught him sniffing my dirty underwear in the bathroom. He denied it, but I knew what I had seen. A little while later, he couldn't deny it anymore. I caught him red-handed jerking off, with his face buried into my briefs and pictures of me displayed on the computer screen. I was not mad, just surprised. As a joke, I humped him until he came. I thought it would be funny. Well, I was wrong, for it was not a joke. After he had shot his load, he offered me to help me cum. I declined, saying that I was not gay, and he wouldn't be able to get me off. THAT WAS A LIE. Well, not completely: I am not gay, I'm straight. But then why the hell did I pop a boner when humping my baby brother? I have to confess that it felt great, but I'm not gay. It was just a long time since I had sex or jerked off, that was the only reason I got hard when humping Sander. I quickly left his room, before he could notice my boner. My jeans were wet, and it was partly because Sander's cum had leaked through his jeans over mine, but even before he came, there was a wet spot of my precum, which thankfully Sander did not notice. After that, I banned it from my memory. I was not gay, so why would I think about how it would feel to have my brother's lips wrapped around my dick? Why did I bone up when I thought about him, on his knees in front of me? You see, when I'm horny, I'm a dominant son of a bitch. I like to insult my partner, call them a slut, a whore, and worse. Sometimes I fantasize about pissing on them, humiliating them and spanking them. To treat them like my slave. I never tried this with anyone. I don't think a girl would appreciate being called a whore. Then, I got a great idea. Why wouldn't I profit from the attraction I had over my brother? Like I said, he was a bit naïve. This could work to our mutual benefit. If I offered him sexual favors, he could do things for me that I didn't feel like doing. He would enjoy the show of me wanking, and I would not have to do the chores. Of course, we wouldn't have sex, because I was not gay. But I could close my eyes and think of some hot girl and give Sander a show. He would be happy; I would be happy. A clear win/win situation. The first time, it started with him watching me piss. I remember that I had waited for the whole afternoon to take a leak, so that I really would have to piss a lot. I was a little nervous and all, but Sander seemed to like it. I did it to test the waters, but Sander was eager to have more. I made him wash my truck, and he could see me wank. I learned that I loved being watched. It made me horny to be admired. Before I knew it, I was saying things I never imagined I would ever say to my baby brother. Calling him a whore, a faggot and a slut. To be honest, I didn't think about girls while I was wanking. Just the fact that I could be this fucking bastard who could call someone else a whore was enough to me to get off. After I came, I started to worry that I might have hurt Sander,saying such insulting things. Because I felt a little guilty, I offered to take a shower with him. I told him that I didn't mean it when I called him nasty names. Well, not really. I meant it in the heat of the moment, but I don't really want to hurt him. I hope he'll understand this. In the shower, Sander surprised me. When I asked him if I could pee in the shower, he seemed a little fazed. But he didn't just give me his permission, he even went down on his knees and let me piss on him. I had fantasized about pissing on someone for years now. I never ever thought I would ever do it. It was so hot to see my piss splash over him and I loved how he loved it too. I've found out that şişli travesti I can talk with him about my insecurities. Before I knew it, I was telling him things I kept bottled up inside. Things that I never told anyone. I felt that we had given our relationship a whole new dimension. It's getting fucked up, to be honest. The other day, I even made up a chore so I could reward him. I convinced myself I did it to please him, that I was a good brother and that I made up the task of searching for an outfit for me just to have him be able to enjoy me. But to be honest, I'm not sure if I wanted him to enjoy me, or that it was me who wanted to be worshiped by him. No! I'm sure it must be me that wants to do him a favor. I do it to help the little bugger, I care for him. I don't do it for my own pleasure, I think. I'm not gay, I'm straight. Then, why the hell do I look forward to these intimate moments with Sander? Why, at random moments do I think about what I could do next to him? It can't be that I'm gay, because I'm sure I'm straight. But is it just because I care so much for him? That I want him to be happy? I'm so fucked up and confused. And, as if all of this wasn't bad enough, there is this other thing. A few weeks back, I ran into Sander's ex-girlfriend, Daphné. Man, she looked great. I was stunned from the first time I saw her, but she was off-limits since she was Sander's girl. After they broke up, I kept thinking about her, but I did not actively pursue her. It wouldn't be fair to Sander. But when I ran into her at the bar, I saw no harm in talking to her. I was just being friendly, no? And when she gave me her number and I texted her a few days later, I did not cross a line, did I? Daphné and I became closer and closer. I kept telling myself it was just innocent, that we were just good friends. But who was I kidding? I was madly in love with her. When I finally decided I would ask her on a date, I kept telling myself that I did not need to tell Sander about it. That the date could be a disaster, or that she would not be interested in me the same way I was into her. Why tell Sander then? Why hurt my baby brother? I felt a weasel. When he picked out my outfit, I felt so guilty. He went through all this trouble for me, and how would I repay him? By dating his ex. To ease my guilt, I let him shave my crotch. He looked so cute, with those puppy eyes when he begged me to let him shave me. How could I refuse this guy anything? He reminded me of a little puppy, always eager to please. When I was on my way to Daphné's, I kept hoping that the date would be a horrible one. That we would find out that we were not compatible. I didn't know what I would do if I had to choose between Daphné and Sander. I mean, I would choose Sander in a heartbeat, without a single doubt. It's just that I feared that I might resent him for it. Well, the date was a success. So, on the way home, I decided I could not wait any longer. I had to tell Sander about it. I felt so guilty. I ordered myself to do it the first moment I saw him. Unfortunately, dad crossed that plan. When he came home with his new girlfriend, Martine, my plans changed. The more I waited the more I started to get nervous. How could I do something that would hurt this little guy? I was a terrible brother. During lunch, I even thought about breaking up with Daphné. Was she worth risking my relationship with Sander? I was lying on my bed, contemplating my next move, when Sander came in. I had to tell him now. But perhaps it would be easier for him to digest if I let him enjoy me. Truth be told, I was looking forward to it. I even considered doing more than just wanking for him. Perhaps if I did that, he would know how much I cared about him. Then he might understand that I wouldn't hurt him. Besides, the thought of his lips on my dick actually turned me on a bit. Shit, why did I enjoy it so much? When I asked him how he wanted to be rewarded for helping me yesterday, I sort of wished he would ask to suck me. At the same time, I feared that he would ask for it. Shit, I'm so messed up. When he actually asked for it, I just didn't know what to do. To buy some time, I asked for a drink. I meant a glass of water, but the loveable idiot came back with scotch. He's so adorable. Actually, it was good that he had brought the scotch. It would help to get the edge off. When he was down on his knees, I forgot about my qualms. Fuck, this felt so good. I hated that it felt so good, yet I was unable to stop it. A rush of adrenaline washed through me. When we were on the bed, I kept looking at Sanders dick. I wondered how it would feel to touch it. I never touched anyone else's dick. It kind of felt beylikdüzü travesti natural to hold it and to stroke it. But when the fact that I was holding another guy's dick hit me, I stopped. I was not gay, I was not supposed to touch others' dicks. When I had cum, I felt a little sad for Sander. He just had given me this amazing experience and now it seemed only fair that he should cum too. Besides, I wanted to win some time before I had to tell him. When he sat on top of me, beating his meat, he was kind of cute. When he sat there, I started to imagine what it would be like if he was riding my dick. I quickly banned that thought from my mind. I cannot fantasize over fucking a guy, I'm straight! Nothing gay about me. Fuck! What was happening to me? When he was done, we showered together. I knew I couldn't postpone it any longer. But fuck, I was so afraid of his reaction. I wanted to tell him how much he meant to me. How proud I was of my baby brother. I was determined to say it, the minute we would be dressed, but then the doorbell rang. It was Thijs. It bought me extra time. The whole afternoon, I lay on my bed, thinking about all the scenarios that could happen. What if Sander hated me? I couldn't live with that thought. When Thijs left, Sander knocked on my door. "Hey buddy, come sit on my bed!" I said, trying not to sound too worried. I didn't know how I should start. I waited till he was seated on my bed. "You said you wanted to talk to me?" Sander said. I did sense a slight undertone of worry in his voice. Oh god, what was I doing to this wonderful boy. "Yeah, I do." I sighed. I told him that I loved him and that I never would hurt him deliberately. "Buddy, I don't want anything to come between us. Please remember that." I didn't know why I repeated myself. I just wanted him to know that he was so important to me. When Sander responded, his voice almost broke. I didn't want him to be anxious anymore, no point in delaying it now. I apologized, while I put my hands on his knee. I don't know why, but it felt reassuring to touch him. I started to tell him what was on my mind. While doing so, I talked faster than I could think. I blurted it all out. I had rehearsed the lines in my head a million times. It was as if my words ran out of my mind, as if I didn't want to have the risk that he would interrupt me. "There is no easy way to say this, so I'm just going to say it. I had a date with Daphne." There, the truth was out. I braced myself for what was to come. "Daphne, as in my ex-girlfriend Daphne?" He asked. I couldn't tell what he was feeling. I hope I didn't hurt him. I felt like such a bastard. "Sorry buddy, I don't want to hurt you! If you don't accept it, I'll break up with her, but it clicked, and I think we have a future together." I had to push back my tears. I was a lousy brother. "Tim, I want you to be happy, and if you and Daphne are made for each other, who am I to pull you apart." I couldn't believe my ears. He took it really well. "Oh bro, you don't know how much that means to me." It was hard to keep the tears from coming. I felt relieved. All the anxiety slipped away. "I was so worried that I would hurt you. I've been thinking all day how to tell you." I took Sander in my arms. I want to show him how much I meant to me, but I also wanted to wipe away a tear. I know it sounds silly and macho, but I didn't want him to see me cry. Suddenly Sander started to laugh. "What's so funny?" I asked. Shit, he told Daphné about us. Fuck, I hope he didn't tell her all. "You didn't tell her what we did, did you?" He reassured me that he didn't tell her anything. He told her he loved someone very much. I melted inside. I loved to hear him say that he loved me. At least, I hoped he meant me. "When you told her there was someone you loved very much, you were talking about me?" I asked to be sure. "I love you too." I told him. "Only different than you love me." But did I love him differently? Even though I was not gay, I enjoyed the sex immensely. To be honest, I couldn't wait for the next time. My cock was starting to stir, so I changed the subject. "You really have no problem with me dating Daphne?" He sat up and looked me in the eye. "No Tim, I don't have a problem with you and Daphne. I knew I would lose you one day, so if that happens, I'd rather it be Daphne than someone who doesn't deserve you." "Hey bro, look in my eyes." I told him, while I lifted his chin with my finger. "You will never lose me. Even if I get married, even if I have my own family, we will always be brothers. And best friends, as far as I am concerned." I then felt the urge to hold him close. I took him in my arms and kissed istanbul travesti his head. "Nothing will ever come between us." When we ate later that evening, Sander told me that he had met someone. My big brother/protector mode came on. I had to meet the guy, to see if he was good enough for my baby brother. "Wow, way to go, little bro. I hope he treats you right!" I told him, giving him a high five. I was happy that Sander was happy, but I had to meet the guy first before I could trust him. When I was driving to Daphné, I couldn't help but scream in happiness. It went so much better than I thought it would. I was a lucky son of a bitch to have this fantastic little brother and the prospect of a hot girlfriend. When I arrived at Daphné, I informed her that I told Sander about us. She too was happy about the outcome. Her parents were not home, so she took me to her room. We started making out like crazy. Man, she was eager to be fucked. When we were both naked, she started to suck my big dick. She was not bad, but she was no match for Sander. As soon as I thought about him, I shook my head in disbelief, to get rid of the thought. I was not supposed to think about my baby brother when I was with Daphné. What's the matter with me? Daphné bobbed her head up and down, she did her best, but she just sucked my dick mechanically, whereas Sander really made love to it. I had to fight my impulse to call her a fucking whore. Fuck, why was I thinking about Sander now? I pulled her up by her hands and we kissed some more. While we stood there kissing, I started to caress her breasts. She was playing with my balls and with the other hand, she was stroking my dick. I let my hand wander and started to touch her pussy. I could feel she was wet. Soon after she pulled me on the bed. She pushed me down and straddled me. She guided my dick to her pussy and lowered herself on it. It felt so great to enter her body. She felt so warm inside. While she started bouncing on my dick, I reached for her breasts. While she sat there, I got a flashback of Sander. Just a few hours ago, he sat on me the same way. I quickly erased this from my mind. I pushed myself up and put my face between her tits while I started to fuck her more fiercely. It didn't take long before we both came. After our orgasm, we laid on the bed, both panting. I had to admit that it was a hot fuck we just had. I kept wondering why I couldn't stop thinking about Sander, but apart from that, it was one hot fuck. While we laid there cuddling, I started to kiss her again. "That was a hot fuck!" I told her. "Uhu. It sure was!" she panted. I started kissing her again. "I love kissing you." I told her. "You're a great kisser." She smiled but did not repay the compliment. It bugged me a little. I pinned her down on the mattress and started to kiss her again, while I caressed her breasts. It felt so great to kiss her. "You are a great kisser." I repeated. She smiled and put her hand on my neck, pulling me closer for another kiss. Damn, this was killing me. Why wouldn't she say I was a great kisser? After the kiss, I gave it another shot. "Don't you like how I kiss?" I asked her, still sounding confident, but getting really insecure by now. "Well, since you asked..." she started. Fuck, I knew it, she didn't like me enough. "I had better kissers." She was brutally honest. I was not sure if I liked that, maybe I would have preferred a lie. I rolled over, and laid on my back. "You were a great fucker though," she said as she put her hand on my pecs. "What's wrong with my kissing?" I asked. "Well, there is nothing actually wrong with it, but I had better." Boy, she didn't mince words. I started to like her less and less. "Don't get me wrong, I love you, and I enjoy being with you." She said as she got out of bed and started to get dressed. "It's just your kissing, it doesn't really give me goosebumps." I started to get dressed too. I couldn't stand not being good at something, so I was a little bit in a bad mood. I decided to let the subject go for now. We headed downstairs and watched a movie on Netflix. When the movie was over, I headed back home. When I left, I tried one last time to give her a perfect kiss. I looked at her after the kiss, to see if there was improvement. She looked at me with an apologizing look in her eyes. "Sorry, ... but it's not that you're terrible, you're not bad." I looked at her with a little anger in my eyes. "I'm sorry that I said anything. It's fine, really!." She tried to soothe my mind. Well, it was not fine for me. Fuck! I hated this. I gave her one last peck on her lips and left. On the way home, I received a text message from her: "Don't think about it too much, it's not a big deal! Still love you." Well, it was a big deal to me. I couldn't get it out of my head. I was a perfectionist. I couldn't stand not being good at anything. With the ball of my hand, I hit the steering wheel, while i shouted a loud "Fuck!"