Filled by my Sister’s Boyfriend

“Yeah, man. She was great. Pussy nice and tight.”

“I’m jealous.”

Wind rolls over the neighborhood, sending a plastic bag sailing through the air. Late afternoon sun rains onto me and my friends while we lean against the fence. A joint smolders between my lips, the hot smoke causing my muscles to unwind.

It’s another typical day with the bros.

Hanging on the street corner, puffing and chatting.

I’ve been out of high school for almost four years now, and I’m finally starting to see success with my music career. Me and my friends have a band—we play in small clubs on the weekends. I still live with my mom, and she’s getting impatient. She wants me to move out.

But she just doesn’t understand. I’ll hit it big someday.

“I need to get a girlfriend.” I exhale, sending dark tendrils dancing around my face. “It’s been forever since I last got laid.”

“Maybe you’ll have luck after the gig this weekend.” My friend pats me on the back.

I turn and smile. His name is Seth, and he’s been my buddy ever since our senior year of high school. He’s a tall, skinny guy with long black hair and a pointed, foxlike face. Piercings adorn his nose and lips, giving him an edgy aura I’ve always been drawn to. He’s become my mentor. He’s the one who first had the idea to start a band.

We launch into a discussion about the upcoming concert—a performance at a downtown dive bar. It’s nothing special, but it’ll bring in a bit of cash. It’ll keep us afloat for a while longer.

But the sound of an engine cuts us off.

A gleaming chrome motorcycle rips down the road, a leather-clad young man at the helm. A blond girl clings behind him, her hair rippling in their wake.

“Ugh.” I roll my eyes. “She’s back.”

“Bro, your sister is hot.” Seth nudges my arm.

“Shut up.” I push back. “Better not let her new boyfriend hear that. He’d lose his shit. He’s awful.”

It’s true. That college boy biker has been grating on my nerves for weeks now. He’s a fucking asshole. I remember when my sister first brought him home.

“This is Keaton. We met at school,” she said.

“Hey, man!” I gave him a wave.

But he just looked me up and down. There was something weird in his eyes…like he was peering into my soul.

It made me uncomfortable.

But my mom seems to love him. I don’t get it. Maybe it’s aesthetic. He’s got a rugged, beefy aura that’s the antithesis of my slender frame. A blocky face with blond stubble. A small, pointed nose with even sharper eyes. Thick, masculine eyebrows…

And pecs that bulge from his shirts.

He’s a star college athlete—a lacrosse player from a well-off family. His physique looks like he lives at the gym, pounding protein shakes. Getting girls must be easy for him. Handsome and strong…I’m not jealous. It’s just unfair. I don’t like it.

I hate lifting weights. It hurts and it’s boring.

“I’d better head home. Dinner will be ready soon.” I pass Seth my joint. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

They wave while I walk the street, heading toward our modest house. It’s a simple wooden building with peeling paint and a rusted chain-link fence. We’ve never had much money, but my mom has done her best. Being a single parent is hard. Our dad left when me and my sister were young.

But we’ve beaten the odds.

My sister got a college scholarship, and my mom has amassed enough money to pay off the mortgage. Things are only going up from here. Now my band just needs to hit it big. I’m so close…I can feel it!

“Hey, I’m home!” I shout while passing through the front door.

“Oh, Spencer! You’re just in time for dinner.” My mom’s voice radiates from the kitchen.

I pass through the hall, grimacing at the sight before me. Keaton sits at the table, leaning back with my sister on his lap. His hard nipples are visible beneath his white polo. Thick veins run down his bulging, lightly tan biceps. His short blond hair shines in the light. He’s polished and pristine. It’s an aesthetic at odds with his motorcycle hobby.

And my sister…her cheeks are flushed. She rests an arm around his neck, cuddling close and shoving her huge boobs against his hard frame. The two of them look like professional models.

“Hey, little buddy.” Keaton’s silky voice slices through the air. “What’ve you been up to? Still doing that music hobby?”

“It’s not a hobby,” I mutter while taking a seat.

This guy is younger than I am, but he still treats me like a kid. It’s infuriating. Fucking douchebag.

“Spencer, have you been smoking again?” My mom sets a bowl of pasta on the table.

“No…” I look away and begin shoveling food onto my plate.

Dinner begins, and everyone launches into a conversation about the upcoming lacrosse season. My mind wanders. I steal glances at Keaton, eyeing his sparkling white teeth. They’re so straight…my teeth are a bit crooked.

His hair is so fluffy and shiny. How does he get it like that?

And his blue eyes…they sparkle like gemstones.

So pretty.

Woah. That’s a weird thought.

“What about you, Spencer?” My mom turns to me. “Are you ready to get a job?”

“W-what?” I tense up, her words jolting me from my thoughts. “I have one! The band.”

“Right…” Her voice trails off.

“You know, my dad owns a construction company. He could use some extra help.” Keaton shrugs. “You interested?”

“No. I’m not gonna work for your dad.”

“It’d be good for ya! That’s how I built muscle when I was younger. It’s a workout!”

He lifts an arm and flexes his bicep, sending the thick muscle soaring. My eyes widen while veins bulge from his forearms, coalescing like streams feeding a river. The sight makes me feel small and self-conscious. There’s something primal about him…the body of a warrior.

“He’s right, you know.” My mom gives an encouraging nod. “You could learn a lot from Keaton.”

“Yeah, bro! C’mon, give my arm a feel. See what you can become!”

“Are you kidding?!” My jaw drops.