Ever since I was old enough to tackle my tackle, I’ve always thought about what it would be like to touch someone else’s tool.
I once saw my dad coming out of the shower, and I couldn’t explain the tingling sensation in my loins. I found they got *fairly* fired up. I began experimenting with trying to create peepholes in the bathroom. When this failed I retreated to my dad’s laundry, where I found his soiled boxers, filled with siblings that never were. It ended up with a schedule of me sneaking in to my dad’s bedroom the day before Laundry Day, and giving them a good sniff. Until one day.
It started as usual, my dad’s boxers nearly stuffed up my ass, during one of my more, *experimental*, sessions. I could tell after a few minutes that something was amiss. My father had been watching me for the past hour. He’d just been so still, he was invisible. He was now breathing heavily and sweating. I turned to face him, knowing I’d have to. His face was littered with disappointment. I left. I couldn’t go back to the house for fear of facing him.
It was my mother who eventually tamed my dad, and allowed me back into the house. I didn’t make eye contact with my dad for the next few years.
Knowing I had exhausted the option of my father, I looked to more readily available sources of meat. My twin brother. Let’s call him Bartholomew IV. I realised that being his exact match, he didn’t find me threatening, and so I could exploit him easily.
Firstly, I tried the direct route. “Gimme yer pants” I told him, with no result. I had to tell him it was an April Fools and that he was gay for taking me seriously. It was mid December. I waited a few hours before trying another tactic. I offered to take his laundry to the basement to hand wash them for him. He accepted as he never washed. I was delighted.
My plan in motion, I’d take his filthy stain-ridden clothing to the basement every week, and could have my way with it.
My plan was an astounding success, and we quickly began a sexual relationship. I fashioned some BDSM straps out of my mother’s belts. They were XL size so the process went fairly well. I bound my brother to the bathroom wall using the failed peepholes as anchors.
He started to cry as he realised what was about to unfold. I slapped his chest with vigor, he vomited on my meat. I lost my appetite and left him there for dad to find.
Part 2 coming shortly…
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticstories/comments/8jkij9/my_journey_to_heaven_part_1