My sensual unborn brother— bound with me in the womb— initiated my perception of pure sensuality. He gave me the separated sense of our fleshy-ness together. I was attached to the womb, whole with it, but also with him. He was the mirror twin of myself. That split zygote phenomenon was completely intrusive during this stage of my life, though we were from the same place, we were definitely separate. Suspended in my space—liquid pulsing womb, which enveloped us together, I could sense his constant probing. As if, being fully immersed, the womb was not sensually satisfying enough of an experience for two. My brother desired to enter me too. He knocked constantly with his stumpy-fingered nubs against my virgin anus, while his foot appendage would attempt to enter my mouth. My brother had great strength in his knobby fist. He gripped, yanked, squeezed my umbilical cord to cut nutrition from me. My twin was aware that a weakened body will submit. Soon I would no longer resist. His would enter me.
The nature of this trap is so secure. A perfect compartment except my twin brother developed on top, literally against me, his feeling me grew— making me so—I am aware.
Sure, he grew larger and stronger with every tide— every damn beating heart seemed for him. How does a parent favor one of a pair? Why favor this raping fucker over me?
I would let him in me— he gets me— I felt so weak—delirious— had he made me believe? Or maybe my resistance yielded to a desire to comply. Submit to those other wills and body of multiple stubs and enormous heads— an extra head managed me even before birth. His strength felt brutal—His will severe—my twin fetus brother gets his first fuck in me. My character strength became my savvier/savior wit. He persisted. He entered me at several choice anatomical markers—anus, mouth. My choice loosened the latter. My mouth opened wide accepting in my brother allowing him to enter me. Receiving first his soft probing fingers. I could have broken his dirty digits with my jaw, but instead I relaxed, allowing his toes to slip past my virgin throat. “Suck,” came the thought. I suck in my brother’s other toes, foot, calf, knee, thigh, and more. My twin lived for that moment. He desired the ultimate fuck of his life; while my sucking fucking actions were all he could conceive, all he would ever conceive—as he digestively, slowly, maneuvered himself into me. My tense all male masculine sibling, the fetus bred for stud, finally relaxed his grip on my umbilical cord. I realize at the moment of self-awareness what I will have to do for my fucking brother.
The more I sucked his
toes, the
more he stroked himself and my umbilical cord with his brother love.
The
excitement and blood flow brought more life to me. I open my mouth
wider to
accommodate his foot. I did not need
air in my liquid cell, so l allowed his leg to enter me as big as it
seemed.
Easing it all the way to his cock and balls.
Don’t ask me how it was done, but my parents did give birth to a
single
and spectacular eight and one-half pound artistic gay baby boy.