Date: Sat, 8 Mar 2014 12:37:47 -0800 (PST)
From: Henry Brooks <hankster1430@bellsouth.net>
Subject: My Sister's Boy Friend (Adult Relationships)

Don't forget, dear reader, your contributions are necessary to keep this
web site going.  Please click the "contribute" button now, and do your
part.

My Sister's Boyfriend

Some things in life are easy, and other things are hard, very hard.  Of
course, judging what's easy and what's hard is up to the individual, and is
totally subjective.  I am gay, so what is hard for me, might not be hard at
all for a straight man, and vice versa.  Allow me to explain, but first let
me tell you something about myself.

My name is Raymond Bush.  I am twenty-six years old, and considered by many
of my acquaintances to be very handsome.  You already know that I am gay,
and most gay guys are usually obsessed by statistics, especially regarding
the nether regions, so here goes.

I am six feet, one inch tall.  I work out several times a week at a gym
near my office, and my muscles have muscles.  My hair is a dark,
unattractive blond, and straight as an ironing board.  I usually need a
haircut.  My eyes are blue, and my nose is straight, but it's a tiny bit
large for my face.  My lips are a nice rosy color in their natural state.

But forgive me, I still haven't reached the part of me that would interest
a certain segment of the population, so pay attention.

My cock is cut, and five inches flaccid.  When aroused, it reaches seven
and a half to eight inches, depending on my degree of horniness and
ultimate arousal.  It is a really hefty instrument, almost like a small
salami.  Some fuck buddies have shuddered and refused me entry to their
love canals.  Others desired me even more because of it.

I am single, and I swear, I am not looking for Mr.  Right.  I enjoy my
single status and the freedom it affords me.  I have a good job in finance
in a city several hundred miles from my hometown in Georgia.  I took the
job just for the reason that it is so far away.  I was raised in a
fundamentalist, very religious household.  If I had come out to my parents,
I have no doubt that they would have ended my life, rather than face the
disgrace, and the sneers of their neighbors.

I have three younger sisters, twenty-four, twenty-two and nineteen.  The
two elder girls are married to fundamentalists who attend my parents'
church.  Both couples are clones of my parents, who are delighted by their
daughters' unions.  Needless to say, I am not close to any of them.

My youngest sister, Patricia, made the terrible mistake of falling in love
with a half breed.  Cary's father is Italian-Catholic and his mother is a
Jew.  He was raised in neither faith.  Cary told me later on that his
father didn't give a damn.  He thought that religion was a lot of hogwash,
and he was sure that God disapproved of the whole concept, because it
divided his children.  I wish Cary's dad had raised me instead of my dad.

As you can imagine, my father practically threatened to murder Patti if she
didn't give Cary the boot.  She didn't dare oppose the tyrant, so she and
Cary packed up what they could, and got out of Dodge.  Having no place else
to go, they came to me because Patti knew that I would be sympathetic to
their plight.  Even though I had not yet come out to my family, she and I
were the rebels in our family, and we were exceptionally close.  When I
left home she was the only one I missed.

I rent a two-bedroom apartment in a high rise in a very upscale community.
I told you that I had a good job.  Patti hadn't even told me that she and
Cary were coming.  They just arrived one day, parked in a guest spot, and
rang my bell.  Lucky for them it was Sunday.  I had long since stopped
going to church.  Even though my folks had no way of knowing that, I felt
that I was sticking my middle finger in their faces.

I opened the door after the first knock, and yelled, "Hello, gorgeous."
You see I was expecting a trick, who fortunately stood me up that day.
It's a good thing I said gorgeous and not handsome.  My sister took it as
compliment.

I was shocked to see her, but exceptionally pleased.  I hugged her and we
wept in each other's arms.  I had never met Cary before the couple knocked
on my door, so Patti pulled away from me, and grabbed his hand.  "This is
my boyfriend, Cary Luca," she said to me.  "Can you put us up until we can
get situated?  We had to leave in a hurry.  Daddy was about to kill me for
having a relationship with someone who didn't take The Bible literally."

I took a good look at Cary, and I knew in an instant that if he stayed with
me, I would never be able to control myself.  Standing before me was a god.
His Italian-Jewish, Mediterranean, good looks bowled me over.  He was at
least an inch taller than I.  His hair was curly and jet black.  It was cut
short and fell in tiny ringlets around his swarthy face.  His eyes were a
deep brown.  At first I thought they were as black as his hair.  His
eyelashes were twice as long as was decent.  He was wearing a tee shirt and
I could see how muscular he was.  Irrationally I thought how lucky I was
that I was muscular too.  Contrary to stereotypes, his nose was small.  It
was just a shade larger than a pug nose.

I knew I couldn't say no to my sister.  I would have to put them up in my
spare bedroom, and that is why life is so hard.  As I told you, I wasn't
looking for Mr. Right, but he fell into my apartment, and there he was
standing in front of me.  I could feel myself getting an erection.  I
didn't care if Cary saw it, but I didn't want Patti to notice.  All I could
think about was seeing Cary naked.  Before I agreed to put them up, my mind
was already brewing plans to see him in his birthday suit.  It was quite a
while before that happened.

It also struck me that if I said yes, I would lose a place to entertain my
tricks.  I would have to depend on them to provide a place to play.  Many
of my tricks were married men, who had foolishly denied their true nature.
They were always exceptionally horny, and oh so good in bed.  I would lose
that whole segment of the population to play with, because they had no
place to entertain, except in expensive hotel rooms.

Notwithstanding all those considerations, I said, "Of course you guys can
shack up in my spare bedroom.  It'll be fun."  Liar!!!

It's not that Patti and Cary were free loaders.  They both got jobs almost
immediately, and began to contribute to the household expenses.  What
happened is that we got too damned used to each other.  Living as a family
became sort of habitual.  I was happy to find my expenses cut way down, and
so none of us made a move to change the situation.

In spite of that, it was still very hard for me.  I wanted to work out with
Cary so that I could finally see his attributes, but he went to a gym
convenient to his office, and I went to one near mine.  I was afraid that I
would never see him naked.  My frustration grew exponentially every day.

I could hear them making love at night, even with both our doors tight
shut.  To be more accurate, I could hear Cary, who was a very noisy lover.
He was becoming an obsession, and I was afraid that I would someday lose
control of myself.  I must say that at some point I heard less and less
love making, and I could only wonder if they had slowed down or if they had
become quieter.  Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on one's point of
view, Cary and I were never alone.

One day Patti came home from work and announced that she was going to a spa
for the weekend with some of her female co-workers.  I was silent.  My
stomach was churning, as I realized that I'd be alone with Cary for two
days.  It was he who said, "That's great honey.  You have yourself a ball,
and Ray and I can do some man stuff."  Then he looked at me and winked.  My
knees buckled, and I had to grab a kitchen chair to keep from falling.
What the hell did he mean?  As far as he knew I was straight.  Did he
intend for us to go pussy chasing?  Would he cheat on Patti?  My brain was
boiling from the confusion caused when questions go unanswered.

Patti and her friends left directly from work on Friday afternoon.  At
about 4 PM that afternoon, Cary called me at my office.  "Let's meet at
Murphy's after work for a drink," he suggested.  Murphy's was a bar located
downtown, and convenient to both of us.

"OK." I mumbled.

"We'll play it by ear from there," Cary added.  "Let's enjoy a boys' night
out."  What was he suggesting?  I had to tell myself to stop imagining that
he meant anything by it, other than we should party and have a good time.

But I couldn't leave it alone.  What if I got Cary a little drunk, and he
lost all his reserve?  Could I maneuver him into bed?  No guy, straight or
gay, could resist a blow job from anyone, whether it was a woman, a
straight man, or a gay man.

Cary's words kept repeating themselves in my brain: Ray and I can do some
man stuff... Let's enjoy a boys' night out.  If these weren't innuendos and
double entendres, I didn't know what was.  In an act of superior wishful
thinking, I let myself believe that Cary wanted me as much as I wanted him.

I couldn't wait for quitting time, and I damn near ran to Murphy's.  Cary
was already at the bar.  Was he as anxious as I was?  The bar was crowded
with TGIF revelers, both male and female.  Cary was talking to a gorgeous
red-headed woman, and he leaned in to whisper something in her ear.  Good
God.  Did he already pick up a woman for us to share?

When I got to them, the woman politely moved over a little, making room for
me to stand next to Cary.  He must have seen me when I arrived, and asked
the woman to clear a space for me.  Much to my relief she made no move to
engage us in conversation.

Cary had ordered for me, and he pushed my drink over to me.  "Where do you
want to go for dinner?" he asked.

I didn't give a shit about dinner.  I wanted to get Cary a wee bit tipsy
and a lot vulnerable, so I said, "Plenty of time to think about that.
Let's just enjoy a couple of drinks.  This joint is jumping."  I looked
around as I said that.  The bar was full of beautiful young men and women.

Cary laughed.  "Do you see anyone you'd like to spend the night with?"

"Yeah, you," I said, and then I panicked.  I had no idea why I admitted
that.  It just came out of me without thinking, so I quickly added, "You
promised me a boys' night out."

"So I did.  For a moment there, I thought you might be suggesting something
else."

I laughed in order to hide my discomfort.  "Whatever do you mean?" I
quipped.

"You know.  Don't kid me," he smirked.  "We both know that you're gay."

To say that I was shocked would be an understatement.  I was also
speechless for a few seconds, but I figured that it was time to be honest
with my future brother-in-law, who had become my best friend.

I found my tongue and said, "Yes I am.  How did you know?"

"I'm not sure.  I just knew.  My brother is gay, and you always look at me
the way he looks at men he has a crush on."

"You think I have a crush on you?" I asked with a big grin on my face.  I
figured that the grin would fool him into thinking I was just bantering
with him.

What happened next sent me into a tailspin.  "Yeah," he said, "I do."

With that he threw his arms around me, and gave me a hug.  I may have
chalked up everything else that happened so far as being wishful thinking,
or my over stimulated imagination, but I didn't imagine feeling his
erection pushing against me.

We were both a little embarrassed, and separated quickly.  Our brief
encounter emboldened me to ask, "When you and your brother were kids, did
you ever do things together?"  With no hesitation at all, he told me that
they had sex together from the time he was thirteen and his brother was
eleven.

"I haven't seen him in ages.  He lives in San Francisco now, but you can
bet that when we see each other again, we'll have great sex together.  I
also had a fling with my college roommate, but we lost track of each other
after we graduated."

I was shaking, and Cary put his hand on my arm.  "Why are telling me all
this?" I asked, not daring to hope that he wanted to have sex with me.
"I'm younger than you," he said, "but you are so naïve."

I took that as a yes, and I figured that it was confession time, so I
admitted, "I have wanted to make love to you from the moment you walked
through my door."  "And I have wanted to see what hangs between your legs
from that moment also."

I began to laugh so hard, I started to cough.  "Me too! Between your legs
of course."

"Let's get out of here," he said.  "If we feel like eating afterwards, we
have some frozen dinners in the freezer."

We had to drive home in separate cars, but we arrived about the same time.
As soon as we entered our apartment, we locked the door, and fell into each
other's arms.  I was having a hard time keeping from crying.

We rushed into my bedroom, and undressed in record time.  We briefly
admired our muscular bodies, but our eyes went right down to where they had
wanted to go for months.  Cary too, was bigger than average, but not as big
as I am.  He was also cut, and every bit as beautiful as I had fantasized.
I couldn't restrain myself.  I fell to my knees and gobbled him up.

He sighed deeply, and said, "Let's shower."

In the shower our passions were released.  I soaped him and he soaped me.
To be more accurate, we kept soaping our exceptionally hard cocks.  We also
slipped a finger or two up our asses.  We were moaning like victims of
torture.

Cary whispered in my ear.  "I want to fuck you so badly, but not here.
Let's dry up, and get into bed."  That was more than OK with me.

"I don't have any condoms or lubricant in the house," I said.  "I didn't
want you or Patti to come across them accidentally."

Cary laughed.  "Did you think I would be unprepared for tonight?  I bought
some yesterday, and hid them in the bathroom."  He went and got them.
Immediately he slipped a condom on, and greased it generously.  Then he
greased my ass, and began to ream me.  He got to three fingers, and I
begged him to fuck me.  I realized that Cary was an old pro at this sort of
stuff, and I had to wonder who else he had been with besides his brother
and his college roommate.  Patti never even entered my mind.

When his huge cock entered me, it didn't even hurt.  I let him know how
good it felt, but I begged him not to cum until I had a chance to suck his
cock for a while.  "Good idea," he said.  He pulled out, ripped off the
condom and presented his swollen cock to my mouth.  I wanted to take him
into me immediately, but I restrained myself.  Instead I licked all around
his head, up and down his shaft, his balls, and his crack.  I am happy to
report that Cary was writhing like a soul possessed, and purring like a
kitten.  I knew he approved of my efforts.

Suddenly, he yelled, "Sorry!" and came shooting into my mouth and down my
gullet.  I licked him dry, stood up, and began to kiss him with all the
passion I could muster.

"Let me do that to you," he said.  "We can fuck each other later.  We have
all weekend."  That having been said, he was down on me in an instant.
Unfortunately, I must admit that I came almost immediately also.  My
passion for Cary prevented any restraint on my part.

It was time to rest and recover, so we could pursue our passion (and dare I
say, our love) some more later on.  We lay in bed, holding each other
tightly.  Our now limp cocks were smashed together, and we were kissing
more gently than before, but with the same passion.  Suddenly I started to
sob, and Cary pulled me even closer to him.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Us! We're wrong.  You've made all my fantasies come true, and instead of
being joyful, I'm wracked with guilt and shame.  We've forgotten all about
Patti.  How can we hurt her like this?"

Cary didn't answer quickly.  After a long silence, instead of saying
something, he broke out laughing.  I was shocked at his reaction.  He
jumped out of bed and retrieved his cell phone from his trouser pocket.  He
pushed some buttons and began to play his messages on speaker phone.

Cary, my name is Monica Stewart.  I work with your fiancée, Patti.  She
told you that we girls were going to a spa this weekend.  I don't know
where she's going, but it's not with us girls.  She's off somewhere with
the boss.  They have been screwing each other for some time now.  When you
get over your hurt, call me.  You're a hunk, and Patti is crazy.

Cary turned off the phone, and I looked at him in amazement.  "She is
crazy," I said.  "How could she do this to you?"

"Sweet, sweet, Ray.  You are more naïve than I thought.  You can't see
what's going on right under your nose.  I've been fighting my homosexuality
ever since I started to screw around with my brother, and then my roommate.
When I laid eyes on you, my struggle was over.  I was completely smitten,
and ready to admit that I was gay.  It took me about ten seconds to confirm
in my head that we played for the same team.

"Almost from the day we arrived, I became unable to get passionate for
Patti, even if I pretended she was you.  I was able to satisfy her less and
less, until finally I was only able to get her off with my tongue.  She
accepted that for a while, but eventually she wanted to know what was
wrong.  I confessed to her that I loved you, that I was gay, and that I
thought you were too.  She had a suspicion also.

"She began an affair with her boss with my blessing.  She was the one who
urged me to come out to you this weekend while she was away."

"For Christ's sake.  I've been racking my brain for months trying to create
a scenario where I could seduce you," I said.  "It's too funny, but I don't
feel like laughing.  I feel like crying."

"Well, this should give you a laugh," Cary said with a smile.  "When Patti
was packing a small suitcase for the trip, she started laughing.  I asked
her what was so funny, and she said that she wished she could tell her
father this whole story.  It would surely cause him to have a stroke or a
heart attack."

"You're right that is funny."

"Ray," Cary said, sounding very serious.  "Patti is moving out of here, and
moving in with her boss.  I'm pretty sure they'll get married someday.
That should make your father happy.  At least he's a non-practicing
Christian, and not a non-practicing who knows what."

I lay back on the pillow in some peaceful coma like state.  Cary kept
looking at me and smiling.  Finally I asked, "Are you recovered enough to
fuck me?"

"Yes indeed.  How about you?  Are you able to fuck me now?"

I wanted to fuck him, really I did, but all I could do was cry.  For a
year, I had yearned just to touch this man, nothing more than to touch him.
Now we were seconds away from fucking each other.  I kept weeping and
weeping tears of joy.

Then something struck me funny, and I stopped crying.  In fact, I broke out
laughing.  Picture this: My sister's boyfriend was now my boyfriend, and we
had her blessing.  Ain't that a hoot?

The End