. I wasn’t going to let his long, lingering glances at my chest affect my behavior.I certainly wasn’t going to pull my shirt up and let him have a...look. My body was not there to please my brother, and when I saw the outline of his erection pushing against his jeans, I wasn’t going to get down on my knees and fish it out, wrap my lips around it, and let Marty fuck my face until he was shooting his precious, precious cum deep into my throat ... Somehow, while telling myself what I wasn’t going to. Frame shaking, breath-stopping (oh thank you) blackout nausea, the kind a parent experiences seeing their child snatched away by random circumstance. And oh now he hated the word tactile. Hate. Hated it. Found that word and held on, hating and seeing and breathing and feeling. And now something sharp and thick had found its way under his screaming skin, puncturing through veins and tissue. He ran towards the darkness, loving his hatred, thankful for its cool, metallic surface. And then he was. More

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