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-in-law 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.
