Date: Tue, 12 Dec 2006 21:34:48 -0500
From: George Gouge <jgeorge@yours.com>
Subject: Peaking at Brother Tim

When I was growing up I idolized my brother Tim who was four years older
than me.  I wanted to go out for all of the sports that Tim played and do
everything that Tim did.  My idolizing involved a bit of a crush on Tim
physically.  I admired his body, but I never really thought of him
sexually until we began sharing an apartment when I started Community
College.

We had  small living room with a TV.  We are both sports nuts, so on
evenings and weekends you could frequently find us vegging out in front
of the TV.  Tim always sat in the same chair, and I took the couch.  It
was common for us both to watch in our T-shirts and boxers.  Tim had a
habit of draping his leg over the far side of the chair from my vantage
point on the couch.  I discovered that if I positioned myself correctly,
then I could see inside his fly.  There was something exciting to me
about seeing the piece of flesh inside his shorts.

He routinely would doze off.  One night, when he was fast asleep, I had a
great view of his dick.  Suddenly I had the desire to touch it.  I was
very nervous, but I crept over to him and very slowly stuck two fingers
inside and felt his warm moist flesh.  It was great, and I was hooked.  I
did this several times before I mustered up the nerve to open up his fly
enough so that I could reach in with my whole hand and grasp it.  The
more I did, the more I wanted to do.

Eventually I got to the point where I was pulling him out and gently
sucking on him.  This usually made him get a little bit hard.  I would
carefully monitor his breathing, and I would back off whenever he seemed
to be waking up.  At some point, I believe he had woken up enough to
figure out what was going on, but he pretended to remain asleep because
he liked it, and he didn't want a confrontation.  Eventually one night as
I was withdrawing my mouth from off of him, he whispered, "Don't stop."

I freaked out a bit.  He kept his eyes closed, and just whispered,
"please."

So I went back to work on him.  He didn't say a word after that, and he
shot in my mouth without warning.  That made me mad.  But the next night
I was back eager for a repeat performance.  This kept up on and off for
the full two years that I was at the Community College.  I left town to
finish my degree, and we have never talked about it since.