My Fraternity Big Brother (2 page)

“Take a seat on my bed. Sorry I don’t have a couch or anything. Just moved in here so it hasn’t come yet,” he said walking into the bathroom, which was also part walk in closet.

I sat on his white bed.
Fuck this is comfortable.
I let myself fall backwards on his bed and spread my arms out and moved them up and down like I was making a snow angel.
He probably has so much sex on this bed. Lucky guy.
My chest tightened as I felt a tiny bit of anger creep into me.
Why am I even still with Elizabeth? I could be getting laid. I love her. At the same time she is getting more annoying by constantly asking me to convert and if I’ll change my mind. Maybe Travis has some advice.

I turned my head to the right on the bed and was greeted with the side of Travis’s body. He stood at his closet. He hung up his shirt. I couldn’t take my eyes away from watching him. His muscles bulged out of him. He wasn’t a freak of nature body builder. He was just pure lean muscle. His triceps were huge. He bent over and took off his shoes.
I wonder what his body feels like. They have to be so hard. I need him to show me what he does for working out. God. I mean those triceps and I can see the definition in his abs from here.

Blood rushed through my body and down to my groin as I watched him. I reached down and felt my half-erect cock. I slightly jumped.
What the fuck. Why am I hard?
I bolt right up into a sitting position and stared at his 70 inch tv that was mounted on the wall.
Why do I have a half erection? Why did I just watch him undress himself? I wonder how big his cock is? Why the fuck did I think that? I bet it is huge. What the fuck? Stop mind. Please.

“Is everything okay?” he asked from the bathroom.

“Yeah,” I said. My tongue shot out and licked my lips as my mind flashed an image of me sucking his cock. I shot down immediately with my anti-gay thoughts gun.
What the fuck was that? Did you enjoy that? I think I did. No you didn’t. Whatever it is just a thought.

“Ready to watch the movie?” he asked.

I turned my head to look at him. He stood in the doorway of the bathroom smiling wearing only sweats. I looked at his well-defined V cut that pointed to the bulge in his pants that could be slightly seen through his sweats. My eyes darted up to his. “Can we talk first?” I asked.

“Sure,” he said walking over. He jumped on the bed and reclined against one of the big pillows that lay against his headboard. “Come lay on one of these. They are amazing.”

I crawled on the bed over to him and lay on the pillow next to him. “These are nice.”

“So what do you want talk about?”

“I don’t know what to do with Elizabeth?”

“You’re girlfriend right? I can’t believe I never asked you her name. How rude of me. I apologize for that.”

“Yeah my girlfriend. No worries.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Well I’ve told you that we have been together for four years. The past few months have been brutal though. I really want to have sex and it sucks and then she guilts me for not being a better person since I’m not religious. I think about breaking up with her all the time and then I feel guilty and I don’t know what to do and then I miss her and then I get angry with her and then sad because we have so much history together and I don’t want to throw that away just because I want to have sex. It’s frustrating. It’s really frustrating.”

An urge to hug him almost overwhelmed me because the kindness and care in his eyes was so powerful. He listened to me. He actually listened to me. He wasn’t waiting for his turn to speak. He just listened and let me be me. It meant a lot to me.

“What does your gut feeling tell you deep down?”

“It says to break up with her, but then I feel guilty.”

“I understand that you’re guilty and at the same time if you aren’t happy with the relationship and you aren’t getting your needs met then maybe it’s a sign that you should end it. Relationships end. It is a part of life,” he said.

“I know, but it is my first relationship so I guess that makes it difficult and I feel guilty because of the sex, which is made worst because she guilts me for wanting to be more sexual.”

“First relationships are definitely tough to end. It doesn’t sound healthy if she keeps making you feel guilty. Sexual needs are a part of being an adult and because she is sexually repressed doesn’t mean you need to be.”

“That’s true.”

“You’re a virgin and when you’re a virgin you are always thinking about that first time and trying to not be a virgin. You’re a guy also, so you think about sex a lot probably.”

“I do think about it a lot. All the time.”

“That’s normal. You have a high sex drive just like every other 18 year old. How many times a day you masturbate?”

“I can’t believe I’m talking to you about this stuff. I don’t talk about this stuff with anyone. It usually makes me feel uncomfortable,” I said. The urge to hug him became stronger. I held it back though because it made me feel weird.

“Well I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to be yourself with me. It’s important to have someone you can talk openly with. It is also a sign of being mature if you can talk openly about sex,” he said smiling.

“True. It feels great to be. Since we’re being open, I’ll continue with the theme and I hope this doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable or make you think I’m a freak, but I have had a huge urge to hug you this entire time because you have allowed me to be open and you have listened to me,” I said anxiously.

He smiled. “That’s really sweet of you. Thanks for sharing. Then come on over and give me a hug.”

“I feel weird about it though,” I said.

“You feel weird because the thought of doing such a thing is foreign to you. You are being intimate with me so you have the desire to hug me and thank me. Now get over here and hug me,” I said.

“That makes sense,” I said. “Okay. How are we to going to do this on a bed? Should we stand up?” My heart raced. I was excited to hug him and be close to him.

“Lean across me and put your head on my shoulder,” he said patting his shoulder that was on the side that was away from me. “Then wrap your arms around my chest and I’ll wrap my arms around you. Simple as that.”

“Okay… Is this gay? I don’t want to be gay,” I said lowering my head in shame.

The bed shifted as he moved closer to me. I felt his hand touch my chin. He raised my head. Our faces were inches apart. He looked me deeply in the eyes with kindness and compassion. I never had anyone look into my eyes like he was doing. I felt his warm breath on my face. Once again blood rushed to my groin making me feel even more nervous and ashamed. “This is a natural part of being human. You are feeling close to me emotionally right now and you want to be close physically. Stop worrying if you’re gay. Your giving me a fucking hug. This is between me and you and no one else. I’m not judging you. Stop judging yourself and just enjoy the moment,” he said softly, almost a whisper, which made me completely hard. He then moved back to his original position on the other side of the bed.

“Okay,” I said. I still felt ashamed especially because I was fully erect, but I felt a strong connection to him and I wanted to be close to him. I wanted to feel his touch on my body. I wanted to feel his muscular body.

“Do you always feel so uncomfortable hugging guys? If I knew then I wouldn’t have hugged you at the restaurant,” he said.

“No I’m fine hugging people. It’s just the nature of the moment right now and because I feel such a strong urge to hug you which is freaking me out. I’ve never felt such an urge before except for my girlfriend, but that was different. That was for sexual reasons. This is, I don’t know. I just want to be close to you and it’s freaking me out a little,” I said quickly, rushing through my words barely breathing.

“I understand that. We don’t have to do it.”

“Fuck it,” I said. The urge overtook me. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. It was a wave that knocked me over and took control. I moved over on the bed. I leaned across his muscular lean chest. I placed my head on his hard shoulder. I made sure to place my groin on the bed so he couldn’t feel my throbbing erection that I was ashamed about, but I had to hug him. I wrapped my arms around his chest and felt the sides of his back on my hands. He put his arms around me and squeezed me tightly. Our bodies pressed together. I let out a small moan, which I prayed he didn’t hear. It freaked me out a little bit, but it felt so good to be in his arms.

“See it isn’t bad,” he said softly in his deep and soothing voice. “It’s a hug.

“No. No it is,” I said. He released his arms from holding me, which made me sad because I wanted him to continue holding me. I felt so safe in his arms. This then made me feel ashamed because I thought that it was wrong to feel that. I was a bundle of emotions that I did not understand.

I released my arms and moved off of him and back to my original spot on the bed. “Thank you for that,” I said desiring for him to hold me again. I felt so close to him and at the same time I couldn’t share that I wanted him to continue holding me. I wanted to cuddle with him so bad. I yearned to lie on top of him and have my groin against his thigh with my erect penis pressing against him and my legs on either side of one of his leg.

I couldn’t share that. I felt ashamed for longing for those things and I didn’t want him to think I was a freak or gay. Part of me wanted to ask for a ride home so I could get out of the situation. Part of me wanted to run right out of the room in embarrassment. Part of me wanted him to hunger for me as much as I hungered for him in that moment.

Instead of sharing these things and allowing the intimacy to deepen I shut myself off. I pretended as much as I could that I was calm and relaxed and that it was just a hug.

“You’re welcome. How are you feeling?”

“Great,” I lied.

“I’m glad… So do you want to get back to talking or dive into the movie?”

“Yeah. I’m up for talking a little bit more.”

“Cool. So you never answered my question. How much do you masturbate?” he asked.

“Sorry. I got caught up in wanting to hug you,” I said. “I hope that doesn’t sound weird,” I added quickly.

“No it doesn’t. It’s adorable how insecure you are right now,” he said giggling.

“I’m sorry.” He laughed a little more. “I’m sorry for saying sorry.” He shook his head back and forth. “Aww I know I’m ridiculous,” I said smiling. “I masturbate once a day sometimes twice.”

“That’s good. Good healthy sexy drive man.”

“Thanks.” We both laughed at the silliness of thanking someone because they complimented you on your sex drive. “How about you?” I asked after the laughter died down.

“I can have sex multiple times a day. When it comes to masturbation, usually once a day if I haven’t had sex recently. It use to be a tiny bit higher when I was your age,” he said.

“A bit higher when you were my age? What are you like 21 or 22?”

“I’m 27.”

“27? Really?”

“Yeah. My dad made me work for his company as a receptionist until I was 25 and received my trust fund. He said that it would help me build character.”

“Did it?”

“Surprisingly, it did. I met so many wonderful people who are still close friends today. I think when you are rich it is easy to become arrogant or develop a superior attitude by thinking that people below you aren’t as worthy as you. Studies have shown that people who are rich tend to be less empathetic. So I think it helped a lot in that department for me. It showed me what it was like to work a normal job rather than just being a fucked up trust fund baby.”

“Wow. You are really mature. You know how to make people feel heard. I bet it helped you develop that skill.”

“It did.”

“I’m sure your girlfriend appreciates how mature you are.”

“She does. She does a lot. I still have many issues just like everyone else.”

“Like what?” I asked. “I just realized I’ve been doing most of the talking. Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I prefer it that way. I’d rather not talk about it right now,” he said.

“Oh come on. I shared with you.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said raising his voice a little.

“That’s a bummer.”

“You’ll get over it,” he said laughing.

“Yeah, but I want to know now. I want you to be intimate with me,” I said. I wanted him to trust me. I wanted him to hug me, to feel the urge to crawl onto my chest, so I could hold him tightly. I wanted to help him with some of his issues.

“Patience. You’ll get to know me over time.”

“I want to know now. I’m impatient.”

“The best way to become patient is by practicing,” he said smiling.

“Fine,” I said. “It’s going to bug me a little bit.”

“That’s okay,” he said. “You’ll live. How about we watch the movie now so it can occupy your mind?”

“Alright.”

“He got up and walked to the TV. He had a Roku or one of those things and bought
Capote
. He then shut off the lights and jumped back on the bed to watch the movie.