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Learning from My Brother

Posted by: Author: Age: 19 Posted on: 0 comments
9 likes 2024 views Category: Masturbation Female-Male Tags: spying on brother, brother, spying

I grew up with one brother in a house with only a single bathroom. When I was 12 and he was 16 he suddenly began to take a lot of extra time in the bathroom in the mornings. He would be there for what seemed like hours with the water running. I complained to my mother but she insisted that I be patient and told me that now that he was a teen ager he was taking extra time to wash and comb his hair before school. My bedroom and the bathroom shared a heat vent that was about three feet from the floor. The vent was just over the headboard of my bed. One morning when he was taking extra time and I really had to pee, I was getting angry. I turned off the lights in my bedroom and crawled to the top of my bed so that I could look into the bathroom. My field of view included the sink and I could clearly see my brother from waist level down. When I peeked into the room I was shocked to see that his legs were pressed against the sink and that he had his penis in his hand. I had seen my brother's penis before but this time it was sticking straight out and it was swollen and hard. My friends had laughed about seeing boy's erections, but this was my first time. My brother was soaping his penis and he was rubbing his hand up and down along his huge erection so fast that I could barely see because of the blur. As he rubbed, his hips were rocking back and forth and his crotch was pressing against the sink. Every so often he would stop, pick up the bar of soap and lather his penis up some more. I had not ever masturbated to a climax at the time that I was seeing him, but I had been experiencing pleasent feelings down there. I had been touching myself, but never wirh the ferocity that I was observing. As I watched he suddenly let out a muffled grunt, began to buck against the sink and slowed his hand down. Then a jet of white fluid shot from his penis and he seemed to collapse against the sink. I really had to pee by this time and he wasn't about to leave the bathroom, so I began to hold myself. As I did my own feelings of arrousaal became quite evident. But I didn't know that I would be able to have a similar orgasmic experience. Somehow I decided that it couldn't be done without a penis. I had a small toy baseball bat in my room, a souvenier from a game that I had attended when I was little. It was about 10 inches long and about the shape of a penis. I decided to stand up, place the wooden handle between my legs and imitate the actions of my brother. With the urgency to pee pressuring my crotch I leaned against the bed, pressed the bat up and into the lips of my vagina and began to stroke the length of the toy bat using the same motion that I had seen my brother doing. At first the feelings wer no more intense than the times that I had touched myself before. Pleasant but not so sexy that I would be tempted to increase the feelings. But then as I stroked the bat, and the feelings of having to pee subsided a bit, the urgency was replaced with a new and powerful sensation that I was not familiar with. I experimented with angles of the toy bat and found that by wiggling the handle with one hand and imitating my brother's rapid stroking along the shaft of the bat, somthing new and exciting was happening. Suddnly it happened. With an intensity that I did not realize was possible I climaxed, feeling spasms of electricity reverberate from my knees to my tummy. I pulled the handle of the bat into nmyself, doubled over, spurt fluid from my vagina nnd collapsed onto my bed. As I began to relax the pressure on my vagina, my bladder burst and an uncontrollable stream of pee followed, wetting my bed and my carpet. I was so weak from the experience that I couldn't even get up. It was an orgasm that for all times made me connect urinating with sexual arrousal. I never told my brother what had happened but I did watch him several more times before he went off to college a few years later.

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