Broken Brothers In Love

June 10, 2019 I thought the act of heartache in movies was stupid and exaggerating, but as I sat there feeling it in real time like a wild animal eating me up helplessly, my baseless opinion was put to shame. That day, my heart was crushed into millions of pieces that I could picture it out in my head totally pulverized. The pain was too f*****g raw, centered in my chest that spread from there like a crescendo affecting all parts of my body. But despite my stupor, I tried to function like a normal human being - walking, smiling, talking; trying to pretend that I did not feel anything but pain. While everyone around me was trying to settle in this goddamn church, I wanted to shout and simply throw random things or punch random people to help me numb the pain. But instead, I remained seated, scrapping my palms’ calluses from playing drums.  The hurt was unbearable but I drew up all my strengths to cover it up because there was no f*****g way that I would make a scene, our family looked perfectly happy, I could, I should, pretend to feel the same. She looked ecstatic in her wedding dress as she approached him waiting there near the pulpit. I wanted to clutch my heaving chest so it would stop hurting me, but I remained frozen there just like the rest of our relatives and friends all dressed up for the occasion. I didn’t want to see all of this happening before me; I felt betrayal to the very essence of it, but I remained watching like the masochist that I was. As I fixated my stare at the bride, I desperately tried to reach a state of total numbness. I started thinking of random scenes of us together and tried busting my head with images so that they’d look chaotic and barely unrecognizable by my fainting sanity. The bride slowly walked towards the groom. Little by little, her distance to the waiting groom decreased which made it more impossible to avoid staring at those blank blue eyes facing the rest of us in the pulpit. It was stupid to even try to look at him, but despite my ranging anger, I still couldn’t stop myself to indulge a little. It was too late to know how I mistakenly thought that I would be okay because as I did, everything else stopped moving.  His deep blue eyes searched mine for a compromise. His unspoken words reached me instantly just like a skin to skin contact: felt, warm, and communicating through other senses. I wanted to drown myself in his eyes like I used to. Oh, how good it felt to be the one looking at him and the one receiving his stare. His eyes used to be my sky, but… I understood what he wanted. I actually gave him more understanding than he deserved. But it didn’t pacify my emotional tornado, because I found his pleading act disgusting. I thought we were both in love. But the manipulating son of a b***h only used me. I used the bottled up anger to draw up strength to look away. A heavy weight seemed to press down my chest as I thought about the things he had said and promised. I pushed back the tears that welled up my eyes. The way I felt for my brother couldn’t be simply thrown away just because I was told to stop and move on. Did he really think that I was too young to fall in love, that it would be easy for me to simply forget him? That those blissful moments we shared could be thrown out of the window because he felt like it? What was I to him? A f*****g puppet? Someone who would do whatever he wished? I had too many questions to throw at his face, but I contented myself in silence. Don’t ask me why, at least for now, let me continue my pity party first. I remembered the time he had told me about her being pregnant. I was shocked. I never thought he would do those things with her. I mean, having s*x was really something that wasn’t on my mind YET. Yes, we did stuff. And damn, they'd felt good. But not to the point of having s*x. Besides, if I remembered it perfectly, he had told me that I’d given the best blowjob in the world. That I’d given him the best orgasm, the best kiss, the best touch. So what the f**k? In all fairness, I had never paid much attention to girls. As much as I was exposed to many people, I had remained sheltered, busying myself to music and playing video games. I went to parties and had fun with my friends, not flirting with girls or having s*x. I was shocked but I tried really hard to keep calm that time, though miserably failing. I just stood in front of him not knowing what to do or say. I was not even aware that we were standing there like idiots looking at each other as I casually leaned my shoulder on the wall. My mind got so caught up in thoughts, imagining all sorts of things. My older brother was just 19, she was 18, and I was just his 16-something-year old dirty little brother. They made things far more advanced than what my innocent mind could comprehend. I was fooled. My brother took me for a fool. Heat rose up to my face and I was heating up, fuming all over. I didn't know what would come out of my mouth if I spoke, so I just kept silent. I eventually walked out, cursing inside my head, and feeling my heart on the floor.  I knew he was afraid and he was seeking comfort. I knew my brother more than everyone else. He was in pain, confused, and needed me to support him. The look in his face told me so. But that time, there was a hole in my chest and I was bleeding to death. I had to get away from him and think things through. But as his confession sunk in and completely absorbed, all went black and red. I just couldn't think of anything else but his lips pressing to someone else's. I had felt too naive, I had felt too betrayed and played. It felt like someone died. Oh wait, that was me. Taylor killed me over and over, and I had to throw all my guts in the toilet bowl that night. He knew I was throwing up, but he didn't dare to come near me.  It was a wise decision, because I might end up punching his pretty f*****g face. I was engulfed by so many bad things in my head. And the hurt was too overwhelming. If Taylor was scared, he had to face it. Besides, how could I comfort him if I’d  felt so down and depressed and my thoughts running a thousand miles per hour thinking about scenes of them together in a bed naked? I couldn't think about anything else but my jealousy. Taylor was the one who started it. I had easily fallen in his manipulative web of sweet words. He made me believe that flying fuckland was real and I thought no matter what happened, we would still be "us". But right now? There was no us anymore, he made it clear since the day he told me that he was going to marry her. Stay. I almost pleaded for him to stay. No matter how pathetic I may look. I wanted to tell him I was willing to share him with his wife, that it was ok. I was even willing to face the humiliation, I could face the disgusting comments and criticisms that other people would throw, but if and only if I would be facing them with him. But the thing was, he might have planned this. He got sick of our relationship and he wanted to get out. I knew what we’d done was so wrong but in my heart, it felt so right. So even if he was in a relationship, I accepted that fact. I was willing to just have him and have our affair for us alone. But when he told me that he had to let me go so I could find my own happiness, I realized what he really wanted. He wanted us to stop, he was breaking up with me so he could be free. And that was the reason I stopped questioning him. All my life, Taylor was my constant companion. I couldn’t think of my childhood without him in the picture. And I thought he liked that. I thought he wanted to be there for me even in the far future ahead of us just like how I wanted to be there for him. Unfortunately, for Taylor, f*****g Elvis already left the building. So I let him be. And I sulked into loneliness on my own. Nobody had to know. These past few weeks were like hell for me. Having him near me, yet untouchable. I wasn’t used to that. So I hang on to my anger to resist the temptation of going to his bed, begging or forcing him to be with me again. I acted as a supportive brother in front of everybody else but when we were in our room, we were like strangers. I completely shut him out.  Because the temptation was always present, so thick in the air. Every time he walked into our room, I became extra sensitive. And I thought he’d felt the same way, we both got restless every time we felt like doing ‘it’ but couldn't. So many times, I repeatedly asked myself why I had to agree to share a room with him. We had 6 more siblings. Yeah, I know, big f*****g family right? But, we couldn’t intervene on how our parents took seriously the phrase, ‘go and multiply’ as instructed by God himself. So yeah, some peeps in the house had to share rooms, and both of us had this ‘closeness’ it was beneficial to share. But then, we broke up, then it was not beneficial at all. Like I had to stop myself from freaking out being near him.  I already left the party while guests were still in the midst of the festivity that was his wedding. Or rather we did. Well, I didn't even know this girl I was kissing. All I could remember was that I was at the bar hoping that my parents would not see me there when she approached me.  She was kind of flirting with me, I felt it in the way her fingers brushed my arms as she laughed. I could sense her wanting me by just looking at her eyes meaningfully. And so, with enough liquor in my system as my encouragement, I asked her to go in this room so we could chat more privately, meaning, be more private with each other. If Taylor would be enjoying this night, well, it would be such a shame if I’d just sit around alone all night. My actions were a bit rough as I aggressively moved my lips over hers. I was kind of desperate for a release. I needed to release my anger, I needed this escape or else I might end up going completely crazy. Besides, I knew she was willing to take it. Her moans on my mouth were her obvious testaments. This was my first time, but I saw people doing it before. I watched porn sometimes. And sometimes I would watch with Taylor. Scratch that. Not anymore. Ending the kiss, she looked at me seductively and stood up to remove her dress. I clumsily struggled to stand up, peeled off my clothes, only leaving my boxers on. I was always fascinated about girls' breasts and now that I was seeing a pair right in front of me, I couldn't help but touch them with passion. I kneaded her breasts like a real maniac while she was riding me like a professional cowgirl. And damn, that turned me on. I shifted our position in one swift move; I couldn’t play with her any longer. My c**k was straining in my boxers and badly needed the attention it deserved. Taylor would miss it for sure, but no, he would never ever have it again. Damn him. Pulling her panties down, I kissed and bit her skin, making her cry out in pain and kissed those parts soothingly to leave a pleasurable touch on each mark.  Felt like a professional fucker while doing it to be honest. I moved her knees apart so I could have better access to her. Her hands searched my boxers, pulling it off. Her p***y was soaking wet, I saw its lips glistening from her juices and my c**k twitched in fascination. Like hot damn, I was going to be inside of it sliding and fully engulfed. I couldn’t stop staring at it as she pulled me for another kiss. I got too excited when the tip of my d**k felt her moist. s**t! I was going to experience f*****g and I was going to do it the soonest possible. I kneaded her breasts again while kissing her neck, grinding my hard c**k with her s*x. Sex. I was going to have s*x. I groaned, I was enjoying this friction and I felt thousands of good things in my belly. "Do you have a condom?" I asked her breathlessly. I was so turned on but I better be careful than sorry. Was Taylor sorry it happened? f**k him. "Don't worry honey, I'm safe. I'm taking pills." She said while grinding with me. I looked at her tentatively, still grinding..  She caressed my face, “I’ve been using pills since 15.” I released my breath. “Can we f**k now?” I asked, trying to hide my excitement. "Yes, William, I want you." She breathed, pulling me for a wet kiss. I pushed my d**k fast inside her. And it was glorious. So. Good. "f**k!" I never thought that her hot hole would feel this way. Jesus Christ, it was so damn wet! "Oh god, William!” She meowed, clasping her hips with mine tighter. I grabbed her ass with my left hand and I moved steadily in and out of her. I tried reaching her deepest part then withdrawing and returning. Her moans encouraged me like an animal. I started increasing my pace and roughly f*****g her, my groin was clashing with hers with wet slapping sound. And I knew I would not last long. I didn't want to come yet, I wanted to enjoy more this first time, but I couldn't hold it in, it felt like a carnal need, a need that I had to release. “I want you to come now for me,” I groaned with a plea in her ears. Slowing down a bit and grinding desperately. I bucked my hips with force, she wiggled and moaned. It was so intimate to see myself balls deep inside her and I had to close my eyes for a bit to gain my composure.  When I opened my eyes, I reached down between us to rub her c**t as I continued f*****g her harmoniously. I mean, my drummer's feet could totally withstand the taps and kicks in sync with my hands, so I had no difficulty while doing it. I f****d her like I had done it before. The bed creaked loudly and it seemed to stimulate me more. Soon I came hard when I felt her walls tightened around me. She was screaming my name and I realized that I couldn't even whisper hers because I couldn't remember it? Well, f**k it. I simply closed my eyes. The sensation was something new yet achingly familiar. Taylor gave me earth-shattering orgasms by just using his mouth or hands. And the fact was, he made it even better than this orgasm I just had. Uninvited tears invaded my eyes again, I pretended to relax my head in the crook of her neck breathing hard. I rolled on top of her after a few deep breaths as she pulled the blanket over us. I didn't want to cuddle but she wanted to, so I let her head lay on my chest. She then started circling her fingers on my n*****s, I looked at the top of her head, my c**k rising to attention. She gasped. I knew it was too quick, but my c**k couldn't lie. And so we went at it again. And again. After hours of f*****g, I closed my eyes, pretended that I wanted to sleep. I lost my virginity to this girl I couldn't even remember the name of. Am I happy now? Absolutely not. But if it was the only way to get even, or to forget for a while, then I would do it.  If I couldn’t have him, then maybe I would have what we had with someone else. If he found her, maybe I’d found someone, too. But who was I kidding? Taylor was unfucking unforgettable, and my heart was already clenching in just the thought of forgetting. It wanted to remember. His voice, his touches, his whispered words in my ears. How much he had said he loved me. f**k it, he must still love me, there was no way he’d easily forget and throw everything away.  My lips quivered, I wanted to break limbs,  punch faces, and kick walls. I hated how it hurt. I tried to stop my shoulders from shaking as I let my tears fall and silently stayed still, lying on my side. Once I felt that her breathing became relaxed and even, I carefully released her from my embrace and got off of the bed quietly. I felt a pang of guilt leaving her naked on that bed, somewhere in this goddamn reception venue but I couldn’t bear staying. I was too hurt to be a great company, anyway. I dressed up quickly, finished what was left on the liquor bottle and left with a note on the bedside table. There were still people at the venue, so the party wasn't over yet. Hell, they were celebrating the most horrible day of my life. f*****g great. The live band enthusiastically performed their set; people were dancing, laughing, and partying. My visions blurred, I wanted to throw up at the scene. And I probably slightly gagged myself with too much emotion. I needed to be alone and stop seeing these people; their happy faces somehow fueled my fury. I stubbornly sneaked out again, despising the jest and the loud sound of the party even when I was already a few meters away walking through the hotel’s corridor. When I shut the door of my room and the damn noise wasn’t invading my ears anymore, the sudden silence seemed deafening. The emptiness of my surroundings reciprocated how I felt.  But the eerie silence only made my thoughts more chaotic, rampaging the insides of my head and making me want to throw all the things I could grab with my f*****g bare hands. I wanted to hit my drum kit to my heart’s content until I used up all of my energy so I could lie down somewhere, anywhere where pain would be overpowered by my exhaustion. But I chose to calmly sit on the bed, clasp my hands together and look around my surroundings as if seeing it for the first time. The images of the things we had done every single time we had the chance for the past one and a half years paraded in my mind like a movie. Surrounding me, his hands touching me in the most intimate manner, knowing the parts I loved the most to be touched. I closed my eyes, lips quivering, as I let tears drop in my hands. I wiped my tears and I hurried to take a shower, hoping for the day to finally come to an end. I tried my hardest to count some f*****g sheep in the field to force myself to sleep. Obviously I failed, though. What a big fat sheep had over Taylor's beautiful face? Or his soft voice in my ear as I slept in his arms? Desperate to erase him off my mind, I sidetracked my thoughts to the fact that I just lost my virginity. Well, what a day. I wondered what would be that girl’s reaction once she read my note. To be honest, I preferred not seeing her anymore, I hoped she got that hint. Good thing there were complementary pen and paper in the hotel room I rented. My note was simple, it just said, "I had fun, thank you and nice meeting you - W.T.L." I bet I’d be writing those words many times in the future. ----------- Well, so, that's it for now. Please let know what you think about it. Will be posting as much as I can as this is already a finished story. Just little bit of adjustments per chapter. ;)  Love, Lamour