My Sister’s Boyfriend
 by: Hankster

© 2014 by the author

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

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

Posted: 03/07/14