I look over at you seeing your beautiful face, but you don’t know that I exist.
To you I’m just the bratty little brother whom only seems to get underneath your skin. I wanted to be so much more but you wouldn’t give me a second look. And why should you, you were six when I was born, and all that I seemed to do was get in the way and annoy you.
I would pull your hair and raid your doll collection, but the thing that I really wanted was for you to notice me.
You of course had no realization of this and continued to do your thing, and why shouldn’t you. Time passed and we both grew older and you were more beautiful.
I took to hiding out in my room, ashamed of my sticklike figure, where as you did all that girly stuff; like run for the debate and cheerleading teams, an equality of brains and brawn.
It wasn’t until I turned fifteen that I realized what a svelte beauty that you were, and then there was the time that I saw you creeping from the shower to your room and saw that you weren’t wearing a towel. “Did you do that all for me?”
I certainly hoped so!
My cock tented in my pants and I had to race into my room. I closed and locked the door behind me, and as soon as that was done I raced over to my bed, rearing over the covers and shedding them down as fast as I possible could.