Cuckold POV Shorts: Your Brother

*** Disclaimer ***

The following story is a work of fiction. It contains themes of cheating, cuckoldry, voyeurism, exhibitionism and NTR.

This is a work of fiction. All characters depicted are at least 18 years of age. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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Cuckold POV Shorts: Your Brother Seems Nice

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"Your brother seems nice." It was such a harmless statement, that I didn't know would set the course for a heartbreak that would haunt me for years to come.

Truth be told, Zack was kind of a dick. But I understood why all throughout high school, the girls my age would gush over him. He was good looking, played in a band, drove fast cars, and worked out. For two brothers that looked similar, he represented a more polished, aged, and matured version of what I would become... eventually, though not yet. A window to my possible future. He was six years older than me-- old enough that he and I hadn't been especially close, and had more of an antagonistic relationship growing up-- always finding new and interesting ways to piss each other off.

Lately, since he became newly single, he was even more obnoxious, cocky, and focused on getting laid, than I ever remember.

"Bring some of those college sluts home with you, so I have something to do while I'm staying over." He'd texted me, before making the road trip home for the holidays.

His apartment was a three hour drive from our childhood home, and he was going to be staying in his old room for the week while our parents hosted Christmas.

"What? They don't have any in New Jersey?" I responded.

"I've got hoes in different area codes... but I'm glad this ain't one of 'em." He fired back.

Stephanie was my first girlfriend. I met her at college, and I was a little nervous to bring her around my family. Not for any particular reason. For the same reasons that everyone has when they're introducing two important worlds. I wanted them to like her, and I wanted her to like them. The former wasn't hard. Steph was sweet, cute, and easy to get along with-- able to find common ground, and even get chatty with anyone.

My brother... that was the source of my anxiety. Particularly his candor. Let's face it... for her small fit size... Steph was well endowed. A bubbly cheerleader type, Steph had a pair of breasts that would make the Spalding company proud. And I knew my brother was going to notice. The real question is... just how insufferable was he going to be about them?

***

"Your brother seems nice," Steph commented after meeting Zack. I blew out a sigh of relief. I must have held my breath through that whole first encounter, braced for the worst.

Of course, Zack had noticed her tits. As he shook her hand, his eyes had unabashedly dropped to her chest-- her breasts beautifully outlined in her red sweater. "I see why my brother picked you," he mused with a knowing grin that almost made me slug him.

Thank god, Steph didn't miss a beat. "He's not dating me for my sparkling personality." She replied, a smile playing its way across her lips.

Zack sputtered laughter, and gave his approval, and that was that.

I could relax the rest of the night. I gave Steph the tour of the house, we unpacked in my old childhood bedroom. She mused over the tight quarters of the twin bed we'd be sharing-- about as fancy as the ones at college, but my mom made sure to put the Grinch sheets and pillow cases on the bed, as an effort to embarrass me, while staying festive to the season. I shuddered to think that the haunting faces of Jim Carey and Taylor Momsen might be staring at us as we fooled around.

Across the hall, my brother was settling into his room. Steph hadn't been able to resist. "What are you, a prisoner?" She teased the lack of furniture in his room. Merely an old creaky futon with the quilts my grandmother had crocheted, an end table with a lamp and an alarm clock from the 80's.

Zack wasn't offended. "That's all I need," he winked.

I explained that Zack took everything that he wanted with him when he got his apartment, and everything else had either been sold at yard sales or annexed by me.

"Cozy," she mused with a lingering smile.

"It is." He tossed his duffle bag onto the futon and it creaked noisily.

The banter seemed friendly. It never crossed my mind that it might be flirtatious... at least until much later...

***

"Your brother seems nice." He was certainly living up to that statement at dinner, as he took Steph by the shoulders and guided her down the line of bowls and serving plates mom had set up on the kitchen island. We always did a self-serve 'buffet style' around the holidays. Mom worked hard enough without having to make up everyone's little plates for them.

"Get the mashed potatoes before my brother does." He said, taking the lead, and slapping a hearty helping on Steph's plate for her.

I shot Zack a look of annoyance, as he dropped an equally heavy helping onto his plate.

"Don't be fooled," I told Steph. "He's only doing that so he could cut the line," I said.

Steph let out a giggle, and humored him as he used his friendly gesture to wedge himself in front of me, and get first crack at the food. My mom loaded them with various cheeses, and we always fought over them.

Dinner with my family went well. My parents are pretty easy going. They made it a point to include Steph in every discussion, and ask her all sorts of questions about herself, that she was more than happy to answer. Zack and I did our usual light banter, and Zack was courteous enough to fill Steph in on the back-stories behind every inside joke. He seemed happy to do it, and I got the sense that he engaged her so much because he liked looking at her... particularly her chest.

Steph didn't mind the attention. I sensed the beginnings of school-girl crush. It was the same crap I saw with every girl I'd gone to school with. They knew of my brother, and were excited by his good looks, the 'maturity' of 'an older man', and the fact that he was far removed from the drama of school-- be it high school or college. He was a dipstick out into the real world that they'd soon be venturing, and girls always liked that kind of 'worldly guide'. It was annoying, yes. But it was nothing to worry about...

***

"Your brother seems nice." If only she knew about the time I got a pimple in the center of my forehead and he'd followed me around for a week, teasing me about my Bindi. The kind of thing that brothers tease each other about, but enough to make me want to avoid school for a week.

We capped off the night by watching a Chevy Chase movie in the glow of the Christmas tree lights. That was a man who was supposedly a good put-down artist in real life too. Chevy and my brother would have a lot to talk about...

Afterwards, we called it a night. I caught Steph coming from the bathroom in just a T-shirt and panties. Her hard nipples poking through the thin cotton t-shirt. She wasn't wearing a bra, and it showed in the amount of jiggle that was moving freely beneath her shirt. Her smooth tanned legs scissoring prettily as she tip toed.

My own cock started to awaken, just at the mere sight of her. Of course we'd had sex before. She had a healthy libido. And me? Well it's impossible to date a girl like that and *not* want it all the time. Although, admittedly, I had to go slow when we made love... just to control myself. She didn't mind. She found my slow deliberate pace romantic and sweet, and took my sometimes 'quick draws' as a compliment.

While I appreciated the way she looked now, my eyes widened. "Steph. Jesus. We share this bathroom with my brother," I point to the door across the hall. While technically our doors were across the hall, our rooms were such that we shared a wall, and if he picked this moment to step out of his bedroom, they would have practically collided.

She waved her hand dismissively. "Oh please. Like he would mind," she gave a little twirl in the space of the hall and made it a point to do a little move that made her tits and ass jiggle.

I shook my head, and she yelped as I took her hand and nearly yanked her into my room.

I was on the bed in seconds, kissing her. As my hands began to wander north to one of her heavy melons, she gave my hand a swat. "Uh uh," she wagged her finger at me. "Your parents are down the hall."

"Yeah, but that's a long hall," I insisted, hoping to heat things up, going in for another kiss.

She pulled back in a way that would have made characters from the Matrix proud. "Behave yourself," she snickered, and returned my eager hands to my sides.

"But what am I supposed to do with you in my bed looking like that?" I pouted. "I'll end up having a wet dream."

"I'm sure it wouldn't be your first in this bed," she giggled, pecked me on the nose, and shut off the light.

***

"Your brother seems nice."

I awoke some time after midnight to a sensation of emptiness. I had rolled over in my sleep and discovered the space beside me devoid of the warm body that I'd been cuddled up with.

I glanced at the clock, and eyed the spot where Steph had been sleeping. I had a vague memory of her whispering something about the bathroom, but that had seemed like ages ago. Funny how sleep distorts time.

I was all set to lay my head down and go back to sleep, thinking Steph would return shortly, but I became aware of a sound that was both familiar and out of place...

It was the creak of the old metal futon in my brother's room. Through the wall came the unmistakable *SQUEAK* *SQUEAK* *SQUEAK* of an old frame that should have been replaced ages ago.

There was a time when I found the sound reassuring-- when a bad dream had roused my young mind from sleep, the sound reminded me that someone was close by.

Later, when my brother started to bring girls home, the sound took on a different meaning. A sound that I found both annoying, and arousing. I'd spent many shameful times with my ear pressed to the wall, listening to him and Becky, or Angela, or Kate, or whoever else he'd brought home from a gig after his band played a show at some smokey bar. In those moments, I'd tried to imagine what was happening in there, wishing for a hidden camera or a spy hole.

I didn't give it much thought at first, thinking my brother had rolled over in his sleep. The futon was fickle. But the sound didn't cease.

A steady series of squeaks and creaks that went on and on in a most infuriating cadence. I was going to get up and pound on the wall and shout for him to cut it out, but then my blood suddenly ran cold.

Who was in there with him?

"Your brother seems nice."

The quote a distant echo in my brain.

Where was Steph? It seemed impossible that my girlfriend, who had been contentedly sleeping in bed with me, knowing that I was ready to go if she had the urge, would sneak out bed, tip-toe across the hall of a family that she barely knew, in order to betray me with my own brother, whom she'd just met.

But was it really impossible? Every girl I'd gone to school with had expressed a crush on my brother. And he'd brought home plenty of girls that he hadn't known before that night.

But my girl? Steph? No, she wasn't like that. And Zack was a dickhead who'd fuck anything, but would he really go to that extreme?

I didn't realize how heavy I was breathing as I planted my feet on the floor and stepped out of bed. My legs were shaking and my heart was racing in a way I hadn't felt since I used to eavesdrop on my brother with all of his previous sluts. Only these feelings were accompanied by another one-- dread. My stomach felt heavy, and a feeling of unsure terror prickled the back of my neck.

I suddenly realized how scared I was. What would I do if it was Steph? How could I face the future if the one thing that brought me the most happiness and stability, were to stab me in the back... let alone with someone who'd been a part of my life since the day I was born?

I found myself standing in the hallway outside of my bedroom door. The light from the bathroom was off, the door was ajar. Steph wasn't in the bathroom. Maybe she'd gone downstairs for a glass of water? But I couldn't bring myself to descend. Not with the steady creaking from the bed on the other side of Zack's door.

My eyes were locked to his bedroom door, as though I would suddenly be gifted with X-ray vision, and see past the cheap wood, to what was happening beyond. The light was out, but the steady *SQUEAK* *SQUEAK* *SQUEAK* didn't relent. It was accompanied by the faint ruffle of sheets.

With my heart pounding in my ears-- keeping rhythm to the ungodly squeaks-- I reached out one hand and touched the doorknob. I didn't want to see it, but I had to know. Was this really my girlfriend and my brother betraying my trust in the back in the dead of night, during Christmas break?

The knob didn't give. Locked.

The question nagged at me. Why? Why would Zack lock the door unless...

Unless he was doing something that he shouldn't be doing.

"Your brother seems nice."

That time, I heard Steph's tone in my memory. The sound of pleasant surprise, of her mulling him over, appraising him, comparing him to what she'd pictured, of flirting with an attraction that she had felt after meeting him.

I tiptoed back to my bedroom, barely breathing-- wondering if it was because I was straining to hear them, or if I was trying to not let them hear that I was awake. As if they heard me, they would quiet down, and be much less cavalier in their sounds, and I would be denied knowing for sure if it was really happening. Either way, I felt pathetic. Why was I trying so hard to not be caught, when they were the ones who were guilty of something? Maybe.

Always a maybe. Please god, I clung to that glimmer of hope. It was the only thing that kept my heart from shattering into a billion pieces.

I found myself in the same pose that I'd assumed so many times in high school-- stooped over, my ear pressed to the wall that separated my bedroom from Zack's, my breath held, trying to make out the smallest sounds over the beat of my own heart.

The squeaking and creaking paused for a moment, came in a few irregular movements, like someone changing positions, then resumed. This time the pitch was different. More urgent... faster.

Then came the sound I was dreading. A feminine moan. It was slight, but it was unmistakable. A voice that wasn't Zack's. A voice that could only be a girl.

My mind raced through every possibility that didn't put Steph in the arms of my douchey fuck-boy of a brother. He called an ex. He brought some skank over. There was some pre-planned rendezvous, booked ahead of time, with some girl, any other girl, that would make the three hour drive home more worth Zack's time. But then where was Steph? Her place on the bed was still empty. Her perfume on my pillow.

The kitchen, maybe?

Another girl's gasp, and then my brother's voice making a shushing sound.

My heart was pounding so hard, I thought I'd faint. No. This was impossible. How would such a thing happen in so short of a time???

Over the creaking of the bed, I heard the murmur of hushed voices. A girl's voice. It was hard to decipher, but I heard words that sounded like "... wanting this the second I saw you."

I was grasping desperately to the thin lifeline of hope, but more and more, I felt my grip slipping.

The pace picked up. The creaking intensified. It was joined by a steady obscene slapping sound that could only be naked bodies colliding as they rutted together.

I heard my brother's voice. A rumble. "... big..."

A giggle that sounded heartbreakingly familiar. "Suck them," she demanded.

Any further talking seemed to cease for what felt like an eternity. Merely the sound of squeaking, of thwacking, and muffled female gasps. I have no idea how long I stood there, frozen in place. A living statue with my heart pounding and my ear pressed to the wall.

In hindsight, I think I already knew it was happening. But in truth, I didn't move because... to move, felt like I would have to admit the reality and to face the uncertain, gut-wrenching future. And I don't think I could do that without curling into a ball and crying. To move, would bring forth the flood of memories of the last six months with Steph-- the laughter, the joy, the love, the long nights holding hands, of kissing, of whispering dreams and secrets to each other. Of plans we were making that were now a moot point. And of any authenticity that I once believed.

And so I stood, listening with horror as their pacing increased. As the squeaks grew in frequency, and the slapping of skin on skin became recklessly louder. As did their moans.

"Oh god," the girl's voice, clear as day. It was a whimper that just came blurting out at the apex of pleasure.

What followed were a series of grunts-- Zack's and the mystery girl's. They were blending together, muted, trying to keep each other quiet as they grew more and more animalistic.

Just when I thought it couldn't get any more primal, obnoxious, and frenzied, it stopped. All of it at once-- the creaking, the moans, and the slaps. I listened for a very long time. I couldn't be sure, but I thought I heard the sounds of kissing and satisfied murmurings.

Then a few irregular creaks and the sound of feet on the floor. It set me moving again. I found myself racing back to my bed as quickly as I dared without making a sound, throwing the covers over me, and waiting.

I listened for a long time. I heard the toilet flush, and the sink running from the bathroom.

A moment later, my door opened, and tip-toeing in, my girlfriend. My face was pressed to the pillow. I kept my eyes shut, my face serene, in the wake of the crushing realization that was hitting me.

I heard silence for a bit, then some shuffling. Risking letting the lids of one eye part just enough to see, I caught Steph doing something. It took me a moment to realize what it was.

She was slipping on a pair of panties. Ones that she hadn't worn to bed initially. She'd changed. Then without a sound, she slid into bed beside me, as though nothing had happened.

"Your brother seems nice."

That simple observation had been all the red flag in the world. It was the moment that Steph had traded her relationship with me, for sex with my older brother.