13 comments/ 83546 views/ 8 favorites Family Jewels Ch. 01 By: stevedore Katie casually kissed me on her way out the door. My mouth was full of coffee, so I couldn't adequately kiss her back or respond to her hasty news: "I can't go to Costa Rica. Philip wants to come visit." And she was out the door. We didn't get to talk about it till that night. I had had a restless day at my cubicle to stew about this, and I'd decided to be firm. After all, it wasn't the first time her brother's whims had interfered with our plans. We had changed the date of our wedding, for heaven's sake, because it conflicted with a trip he was taking. And he had gotten drunk at our wedding and dominated Katie's attention at dinner. She had insisted that he sit to her left, with me on her right side and our parents at another table. At that time I didn't want to interfere with Katie's wishes -- after all, it was her big day -- so I hadn't made a fuss about all this. The few times I did complain, she had acted outraged that I would "criticize her family." So, I had dropped the subject. But now... "Katie," I sat next to her on the sofa where she was glued to some inane reality show. "Costa Rica... We really can't change our plans. The tickets are non-refundable. Everything is paid in advance." This was no lie. It was standard practice when traveling to Central America. "We have to change," she said, barely tearing her eyes from the screen. "Honey, you have to learn to live with my family." I was truly exasperated. "This isn't about whether I can live with your family. We can't change our plans and that's just the way it is. Philip will have to come another time." Abruptly she turned to me. Her hand darted forward and grabbed my package through my jeans. "You'll have to come another time, then, little man. Or maybe never." "What's that supposed to mean?" I pulled back, aghast. She just giggled and went back to her show. The conversation ended there, and the next day at work I changed our reservations. To my surprise, the travel agent was fairly understanding, but I still had to pay a substantial penalty. And Katie and I didn't revisit the subject of her brother's visit, only two weeks away. The only time we alluded to it was when she asked me to prepare the guest room. But I couldn't get our conversation on the sofa and her threat to withhold sex out of my head. It was truly unlike her to be so aggressive and downright mean. And -- "little man" -- what did she mean by that? I am 6' 1" and 180 pounds, so hardly "little." In truth, though, I knew exactly what she meant; I just didn't want to admit it to myself. Philip arrived on a Saturday, at a moment when I was working in my study and Katie was watching TV. She had given him a key to our house, so he simply let himself in and dropped his bags in the hallway, yelling, "Hey, kids. Daddy's home!" It was a weird choice of words but somehow totally in character for him. I rushed over to greet him and was reminded, as I was every time I saw him, that Philip was adopted. While Katie was petite with soft, downy skin, Philip was average height with a rough, reddish complexion riddled with acne scars and sandy-red hair. He had been a powerlifter when he and Katie lived together in San Francisco after graduation from Berkeley (where they attended college together), and his body still looked as if it were made of pig iron. These thoughts were interrupted by Katie sweeping into the room and throwing her arms around her brother, pressing herself against him. He kissed her, just missing her mouth, and, as they detached I noticed his crotch. Philip was wearing tight, slim fit jeans. He had an enormous bulge in front, truly beyond anything I had ever seen. Did he really stuff his jeans? He was a sales rep for vacation resorts, not a 1980s rock star. Or maybe everyone in the Bay Area, where he still lived, put a sock in their shorts. I smiled at these thoughts. "Honey, we're just going to have a little brother-sister time before dinner," Katie casually said and Philip followed this with, "Talk later, Bro'." They disappeared into his room and I heard the snap of the locking door. I was in turmoil trying to sort out a mini-tornado of unsavory thoughts and images: Katie pressing herself against her adopted brother, the two of them living together in the past, how she always said she hated New York and missed the West Coast, the way she called me a "little man" and the way her brother's crotch bulged, the sight of her pressing herself against him as they hugged, and the two of them locked in our guest room -- what were they doing? With a voice in my head saying, "You shouldn't be doing this," I crept to the door and listened. What did I hear? Silence, which was more disturbing than anything. The two of them were meant to be talking. As I listened, the sound of my own breath was louder than anything from inside the room, until I heard a very low male moan. But had I imagined it? I crept back to my study, a hot prickly sensation over my face and lower half. That night I was almost afraid as I got into bed with Katie. Since that first conversation about her brother she had seemed different, almost cold. I had resumed working in my study right after dinner, with the result that Katie had gone to bed well before me. However, as I got into the cold sheets, she turned around abruptly, and I saw that she was wide awake. Her green eyes were intensely focused on my face as her hand grabbed by cock and balls, vulnerable in my loose cotton pajamas. "You have a problem with what's going on here, little guy?" she said. "I have a problem with you calling me that. I'm taller than..." She squeezed, causing me just a little pain. "Than my brother? Why do you compare yourself to him, little guy?" "Do you -- do you mind that I have a small penis?" She laughed. "Let's just say sometimes I want the real thing." "What's that supposed to mean?" "It means I'll do anything for a real man, Daniel. I'll get on my knees like a two-dollar whore and suck a real man dry. " She squeezed, causing me to yelp in pain. "And I bet you would too." "I don't like this, Katie." "Then why are you so hard?" Her green eyes were fixed on mine. I didn't want to ask what was on my mind, but I felt, somehow, as if I had no choice. "What were you and Philip doing in the guest room?" She paused, stroking my short cock, her gaze still locked on mine. Finally, she said, "I just told you, hubby dear." I was getting close. "You -- you were giving head to your own brother?" "Yes," she whispered, "and you will too, short stuff." "No --" "And you'll love it." I gasped and came. * I woke up late the next morning feeling groggy after restless dreams. Looking out, I saw that a mid-sized moving van had pulled up in front of my house. Philip was asleep and Katie was probably out shopping; I went out to see what was going on. One man was getting out of the cab and another was opening the back. He waved to me and handed me a clipboard to sign. "Are you Philip Grosvenour?" "That's my brother. He's staying here." "This is his stuff." I looked in the back of the van. It contained boxes, racks full of clothes, and a couple small pieces of furniture. I signed the clipboard and handed it back to the man. In a fury, I went to wake Philip up and demand an explanation. As I walked in, he was just emerging from his room in a bathrobe that hung partway open. One hand ruffled his hair as he grinned and waved to me. The robe fell open and I saw his cock. My jaw dropped, and I realized what I had been dreaming about all night. My world was crashing down around me. Family Jewels Ch. 02 My brother had always had a creepily close relationship to my wife, Katie. Now, suddenly, he had come for a visit and she had been acting strangely, as if she were attracted to him and sick of me. It had all happened pretty fast. Now, the day after his arrival, a moving van had appeared in front of my house with his clothes, furniture, and God knows what else. I confronted him in the kitchen as the men began to bring in boxes and place them in the hallway. "What the hell is this, Philip?" My tone made an impact. A minute ago he had been standing there with his bathrobe hanging open, exposing himself to me. Now he pulled the ends of his robe together and smiled apologetically. "I thought you knew, Dan. She sent me an urgent e-mail. Asked me to drop everything and stay here a while. She said she's depressed and needs me. Oh, man, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude. But... well, you know how Katie can be." He grinned. "Yeah -- well, she's pretty impulsive. She should have talked to me." What was happening? I had forgotten how charming he could be. "You know, we need our privacy." He took a step or two towards me. "Oh, man. I am so embarrassed. Look, do you mind if I just stay a day or two more? Hey, it's not like I have time to come every time she calls. I just -- I thought she was freaking out or something." "Well, I understand." We shook hands. "It's really her fault. But, if you don't mind, this just isn't a good time for us to have company." "Oh" -- he put both hands up. His robe fell open again but he was too close for me to see anything. Not that I wanted to look. "Understood. Completely understood." He was on his way back to his room when I got that extra bit of courage. "Hey, Philip. Do you mind if I ask you a real personal question?" "Oh, no," he said. "Not a bit." "What were you and Katie doing alone in your room yesterday? Just after you arrived?" He laughed. "Oh, man, she just unloaded on me. All about how afraid she is of getting older, how she's getting wrinkles around her eyes. And all the time I'm thinking -- THIS is the emergency? I canceled a sales call for this." I just smiled and nodded and his door closed behind him. As I tipped the moving guys, I steeled myself for a talk with my wife. She had always been unpredictable, high-maintenance, happy one moment and depressed the next, but I had reached my limit with her. If telling me that she was having sex with her brother and then mocking my anatomy was her idea of a joke, I wasn't amused. Not at all. As usual, Katie slept in, so I had to wait, sitting on one of the high stools in our eat-in-kitchen, till she woke up. Philip stayed in his room, probably sensing that Katie and I needed space to talk. I realized one thing as I waited. I had enjoyed talking to him; Philip was the one person in the world who knew how difficult my wife could be. He had always had to deal with her: her erratic behavior, neediness, sudden fits of anger, her occasional cruelty. For the first time, I liked him. When Katie emerged from her room, saw the pile of Philip's stuff -- boxes and furniture -- in the foyer and saw my face, she almost turned around and walked back. "Wait a minute," I said. She sighed and sat down on the bench next to mine. "Did you ask your brother to move in to our home?" "Yes." "Without telling me? Without a single word?" "I did it for you." I brushed this off, not knowing exactly what she meant. "Why did you tell me you had sex with him? Was it true?" "No." "And I don't appreciate the personal insults. If you're unhappy with me, just say so." "I'm not, Daniel, but..." "Then why did you say those things?" She threw her arms around me. "I've just been so fucked up lately. I've been afraid you're not attracted to me anymore. And..." "Well?" "I wanted to see if it would turn you on." Her tone changed a bit, and her green eyes fixed me with a straight look, just like the night before. "I've always thought there was something between you and Philip." "What, is he gay?" She shrugged. She had gained back some of the upper hand. "Maybe a little. Aren't you?" I smiled and shrugged. "Believe what you like. Philip is leaving in a few days." "Okay," she said. She gave me a quick, coquettish kiss and went off to get dressed. The conversation had left me aroused. * And that was how I let Philip stay in my house. It's funny how things sneak up on you. I always thought of a story I had heard about the Red Chinese and the way they interrogated prisoners. They would ask loads of questions about the prisoner's belief, his values. Then they would convince the prisoner that Communism was consistent with these values. Gradually, they would get the prisoner to reveal military secrets. And, finally, the prisoner would be ready to swear his absolute allegiance to Mao Zedong. Now, maybe this is an exaggerated view of what happened to me. But I did notice that the conversations at the dinner table after Philip took up residence were frequently about power -- and male anatomy. It was as if Katie and Philip were initiating me into their strange world. "You always wore those tight Jockeys," Katie reminisced with him. "Even when we were kids." Was she making fun of him or sharing a sexy memory? "You were a good girl back then," he said by way of response. "But I understand you're not so good anymore." She became terribly earnest, pleading, yearning. I'd never seen her like this. "I did everything for you, Philly. Everything you asked. Wasn't I good?" Philip turned to me, passing the green beans, offering a casual explanation. "I always taught her that men are to be obeyed. Well, real men." "Real men!" she echoed in this crazy little-girl voice. Again, it was a side of her I hadn't seen in a while. "Real men?" I said. Philip looked me in the eye and I saw that, even though they were not biologically related, they shared the same emerald eyes. "Superior men," he said, slowly drawing out the words. He smiled, threw his napkin on his plate, and indicated with a toss of the head that it was time for the two of them to retire to his room. She sprang up like an eager child and I froze. I knew I should do something. Then, as he rose from the table, I saw that he had undone his pants, letting them fall in a bunch above his knees. He was wearing no underwear, but the tail of his white dress shirt partly concealed his genitalia. I could only see the tip of his penis about a foot from his crotch. It was more than obvious what they were going to do in the room, but I did nothing, said nothing. Looking at me from the corner of his eye, he led her away from the table and shut his door behind them. Alone at the table, I was reviewing what I should have said to him. "Get out! Get out of my house!" But I was also thinking of his anatomy and his idea of the "superior man." Was he my biological superior? He certainly had a way about him. His manner with me was calm, controlled, but gentle. I felt safe with him around. Filled with these thoughts, I crept over to his door, just as I had on the day he arrived. I heard obscene slurping sounds, little gasps for air, faint female moans. I was breathing hard myself -- whether from rage or lust I couldn't say. I thought about what it must feel like for her to mouth his gigantic organ. I had completely forgotten what I should do: burst into the room, grab him by the neck, and throw him out of the house. Maybe this was because - in my crazy state of mind - I liked having him there. Since he had moved in, Katie, always a late sleeper, got up at six in the morning to prepare our breakfast. After meals she got right up to clear the dishes, a task she used to postpone almost indefinitely. Her manner of dress had changed. She wore a short, sheer housedress now, plain white panties, and heels. In this outfit, she straightened, organized, and even cleaned the house. She washed the wood floors with oil soap, something that hadn't been done since we moved in. Even more surprising, she had developed an interest in finding a job. Directed by Philip, she printed out job notices from the internet and clipped them from the newspaper. She pasted them into a notebook and presented them to him, reporting on her progress in finding an interview. I felt relieved of the burden of constantly worrying about my unruly wife. Her behavior with me changed as well. She was now polite but a little distant. Every night, after her visit to her brother's room, she would come our bed, slip under the covers, and reach for my cock to jerk me off. One night as she stroked my diamond hard (but undersized) cock, I asked her what she had just been doing with her brother. I breathlessly told her that I could see traces of his semen on her lips. She gave no answer, just jerked me harder. She knew I would come in a matter of seconds. After I did, I rolled onto my back, but she fixed me with her green-eyed stare, slowly bringing her manicured, cum-covered hand towards my mouth. "Why do you do this?" I gasped after licking it clean. She gestured in the direction of Philip's room. I understood: he had told her to jerk me off. "You're glad he's here, aren't you?" she purred. "You never answered my question," was my hoarse response. She shrugged. "What I do for him, it's what I always did for him. He does so much for me." "What? What is it he does for you?" "He keeps me safe. From myself. You too. You're an only child. You need a brother like him." I should have yelled, "NO I DON'T!" But I just nodded in agreement. As a kid I had gotten bullied and had often wished for a big brother. She knew this. I felt myself regretfully sinking into sleep. Family Jewels Ch. 03 Since my wife's brother had moved in, the three of us had settled into an unusual living situation. My wife had become docile and well-behaved under her brother's stewardship. Towards me, however, she was somewhat dismissive. Every night she did two things: she sucked him off behind the closed door of his room and then she jerked me off in our marital bed. Was I happy? Not entirely. My formerly spoiled wife now woke up before I did every morning - even on weekends. One Saturday about a month into Philip's stay, I woke up to hear the two of them fighting. It sounded like a typical brother-sister row, his voice calm and hers high-pitched and shrill. From what little I could hear from my room, she had bungled some domestic task he had assigned to her. As I got up and got dressed, I thought to myself that I was kind of pleased to see my bratty wife reduced to this level of subservience. But I wasn't exactly prepared for what I saw when I entered the kitchen area. Their quarrel having moved to its final stage, Katie was hurriedly removing her own clothes. Philip had lapsed into silence and stood with his arms crossed, ignoring her. Completely naked, my weeping wife got down on her knees and crawled to her brother until she knelt in front of him. She began to claw at his belt, trying to undo it. "Oh, Phil, oh baby," she wailed, "I'm sorry! I'm just a useless, stupid slut!" He didn't respond at all. She had just managed to wrench his trousers down and was pulling at his gray boxer shorts when he took a step back. "Brother, please," she said, now in a whisper, "let me suck you. Let me get you off." He casually raised a foot, placed it on the center of her chest, and pushed her onto her back. This was too much; I interceded. "Hey!" I said. "Don't be rough with her." Naked from his waist to his knees, Philip showed no embarrassment. Why should he? His penis, now that I got a good look at it, was genuinely huge. It looked like a child's forearm and fist. He caught me looking. "The problem here is you," Philip said. "Katie shows me respect, but you don't." "What do you want from me?" I heard the whine in my own voice. He pulled his pants up, stepped past his sister, who watching the two of us from a crouching position, and grasped me, pressing me to him. In this position my height advantage was obvious, but made no difference. In his strong arms I felt like a schoolgirl with a crush; my heart was racing and my knees were about to fold beneath me. Worse, his hardening cock pressed against my thigh, sending a shock of arousal through me. "I told you what I want," he whispered lovingly in my ear. "Respect." "You won't get it!" I said, pushing him away with all my strength. As he stumbled back, Katie let out a loud sob and got up. She began putting on her outfit, something like the skimpiest tennis frock I had ever seen. "Katie," I started. "Shut up, faggot!" she screamed at me like a child, having a tantrum, and ran out the door, slamming it behind her. In her wake, Philip and I were left alone. I stood awkwardly in the middle of the floor while my brother settled onto one of the tall stools against our long kitchen counter. "You should leave this house, Philip," I said, my voice shaking. But he was calm. "And if I do, what will happen? What will she do with no one to control her?" While I tried to answer this I became aware of two things: he was looking at my crotch and my little prick was as hard as it had ever been. He laughed and ran a hand through his sandy hair. "Come on, man," he said in a friendly tone. "Perch here next to me." I obeyed him just as Katie always obeyed him. He had a way about him. I can't describe the way I felt. I had romantic feelings towards this man. As we sat side-by-side on the tall stools, he reached out without the slightest hesitation and felt my dick through my trousers. As he did, he began to recount some of the most twisted things I had ever had to listen to. But as he spoke I was mesmerized, not turned off or revolted in the least. "It's hard, isn't it?" he said, referring to my state as he fondled me. "You know, when I was fourteen years old our father made me suck his cock. Even at that age, mine was bigger than his and he knew this. So I think he wanted to establish his supremacy. Then I started to do it regularly. You know he was a drunk and left us when I was only sixteen. By the time he left I had reversed our relationship. One night when he came home trashed out of his mind, I grabbed him and threw him down on the bed. I took my dick out and shoved it in his mouth. I think that was what he had always wanted. It gave me a sense of my natural superiority." I scooted my chair back, afraid I would ejaculate under his touch. I was breathing heavily. "My father, too," I stumbled. "My father died when I was just a kid." "I know," he said, stroking my thigh. "Well, my cock was the first one Katie ever saw. One day I brought her into my room and took off my jeans. I told her to just play with it, and she did. I knew that she would always compare other men to me." "You're obsessed with size, aren't you?" I said, trying to get my own back a little. "Sure, aren't you?" he said. He won that round. "How old was she when you did that?" "Don't worry, she was old enough," he said. "When she played with my prick, it got hard, of course, and then I came all over her. I kissed her and praised her for pleasing me." As he said this, he leaned over and kissed me on the mouth, an extended kiss. "Then I told her I'd always take care of her," he said. "After that, I made her thank me every time I taught her something or gave her a scolding." I just sat next to him like an attentive pet, breathing heavily after that kiss. "And you know how she thanks me," he said. "Yes," I said. "Now, you go to your study and work," he said to me, just as if I were a kid. I obeyed. Once I was locked in my study, I jerked off onto my desk. My face was sweating. I was in a state. * It was late that night when Katie came home. Philip and I were both sleeping in our respective rooms. She did not stop in his room to pay her nightly tribute to him; she came straight to ours and brashly turned on the lights. "I'm not happy," she said. It was a rude awakening. Through bleary eyes, I observed her: hair disheveled; sheer white blouse torn and soiled; red bruises on her thighs. "What happened to you?" I said. "I went to a bar. I went to a bar and picked up a man, the rudest-looking bastard I could find, and let him fuck me in his truck. Then," she paused for effect, "I went to another bar and did it again." "My... God," was all I could say. She stepped up to the bed and pulled back the covers, exposing my naked body. It was as if she wanted me to understand that the men she'd picked up had bigger cocks than mine - but not as big as her brother's. I grabbed her by the wrist. "Listen, you bitch. This has gone far enough. This whole thing. I know you came from a fucked-up home. And, after talking to Philip today, I know just HOW fucked up it was. But you have to leave all that behind now. He's leaving tomorrow, and I mean it!" She wrenched her arm away. "You don't know what's going on," she said. "My brother's not happy. I did what I did tonight to get to him, but it's not going to work. He's not happy with things in this house, and he's not being good to me. You have to fix it." I was bewildered. "I have to do what?" Just then I saw that Philip, awakened by the noise, was at the doorway. He was wearing his bathrobe. Katie swiveled around and they faced one another while I grasped at the sheets to cover myself. "Up to your tricks, slut?" he said, but he was smiling. "Yes," she said in a measured voice, perched on the edge of the bed. "I am a slut. What are you going to do about it?" "You want to be punished?" Her voice became hysterical. "Yes, you asshole! Punish me or I'll do it again!" "You heard your husband," Philip said. "This arrangement is not working out. I'm leaving tomorrow." My wife turned to me and screamed. "Make him stay!" "How can you ask - " I began. But she wasn't done screaming. "Do you think tonight is the first time? I've been doing this since we got married. Why do you think I see Valerie so often and end up staying over? What do you think I do when I go to those yoga weekends? Do I look like the kind of person who does yoga? Do I?" I felt like I had been bashed with a baseball bat. I couldn't speak. Katie glared at me and Philip smirked but all I could do was hold my breath. "You see how it is, Daniel," Philip finally said. "I suppose it's a shock to you to learn exactly what kind of whore you married." He laughed and, to my amazement, Katie laughed too. "He never guessed," she said. This wasn't exactly true. The truth was that, over the course of our marriage, I had spent so much time just keeping up with her moods that I would have agreed to anything just to have an easier life. So I agreed to weekend trips. I believed her when she had to stay out late to comfort an old friend. I welcomed her interest in yoga and other pursuits that required attendance at weekend seminars. I believed it, because it was easier than trying to manage her. But Philip could manage her. Maybe he could manage me, too. "Please stay," I said to him. He eyed me. "You sure, big guy?" "I'm sure." Katie tried to throw her arms around me, but I shrugged her off and she almost fell off the side of the bed. At the doorway, Philip loosened his robe. "If you want me to stay you have to show me respect." "I know," I said. I threw off the sheets and blankets and stood in front of him. My cock jutted obscenely in front of me, like a steely finger pointing the way. I walked towards him and again had that romantic feeling. He was masterful. I wanted to melt into him. His great prong was half-hard already. I got on my knees and felt utterly natural in that position. I took his cock in one hand, and it folded slightly in my grip. I encircled the glans with my dry lips, being careful about the teeth. I wanted to thank him for bringing order to our house and to do so as well as my wife had always done. I settled into a back-and-forth motion on his monster, letting my tongue brush against the underside of his cockhead. He grunted and I felt a thrill of pleasure. I heard something like cheering from Katie behind me. I sucked like a tipsy debutante for maybe fifteen minutes until he placed his hands on the back of my head and drew his cock partway out. He was going to come. He growled as he did and, as he began to squirt, I swallowed as much as I could; some ran out the corners of my mouth. He pulled out and let his prick dangle over my face, dripping onto my eyes, nose, and cheeks, making me laugh with slutty pleasure. "Welcome to the family," Philip said.