My brother's lover (1-12)

Speaker: Xiaoqian (your humble servant)

1. My Brother's Heartbreak

My brother has a lover. His lover is none other than me.

The idiom "childhood sweethearts" probably best describes our close relationship. We went to the same
primary school , went to school together, came home together, and played together. He was two years older than me and two grades ahead. We lived in
an old-fashioned public housing unit, cramped with only two rooms. My brother and I shared a
room ; he slept on the upper bunk of a bunk bed, and I slept on the lower bunk. We went to the same primary school; he attended morning school, and I
attended afternoon school. He would pick me up from school every day, and we would play together at the playground for a while before going home.

After he entered secondary school, we went to different schools. He started to dislike being with me often, even though I
always wanted to follow him. During the summer vacation of his third year of secondary school, he worked in a factory, made some friends there,
and spent his free time with them.

Summer vacation ended, and after school started, I noticed he had suddenly become depressed. We slept in the same dormitory, so
he couldn't hide anything from me. I wanted to ask him what was wrong, but he didn't give me the chance. He probably thought I
was still a child and wouldn't tell me my troubles. However, by then I was already in middle school.

My brother's distraught appearance caught my attention. I noticed our eyes would often meet, and
we would immediately look away as if struck by lightning. The way he stared at me was like he
was scrutinizing , making me very embarrassed. His behavior was strange; what was he up to?
Boys' minds are so hard to fathom.

One day after school, he actually appeared in front of my school gate—the first time this had happened since I started middle school. I
attended an all-girls school, and a boy picking someone up from school attracted the attention of my classmates. I had to
explain to those nosy classmates that it was my brother.

He said he had something important to tell me, so he came to find me. He sounded very serious.

I followed him to a quiet place, and he stammered as he told me that he was extremely depressed and wanted to find someone
to confide in. Thinking back to the days when we played together as children made me feel a little better. We used to have a lot
to talk about , so he came to me.

That's right, I used to tell him everything, and he would tell me a lot too, even things he wouldn't tell his mother
, knowing I would keep secrets.

Then, he told me his story of heartbreak. I had already expected it, but the fact that he was willing
to tell this little sister about his breakup immediately elevated my status.

He met a girlfriend at the factory and developed feelings for her. At first, they went to the movies and traveled together, but
later they started dating alone and became very close. I rarely saw him throughout the summer vacation because he was always with his girlfriend. He
confessed that he really liked this girl. However, not long after the start of the semester, she broke up with him. Her reason was that she was
a few years older and they weren't a good match. He couldn't accept this reason, and it dealt him a heavy blow. He

even started crying in front of me.

I didn't know how to comfort him because I had never been in a relationship. However, I could imagine how painful
heartbreak must be. I used a tissue to wipe away his tears.

He said, "You're so kind. I feel much better now that I've talked about my feelings. Can we be together often, like
before ?"

I said, "Yes." I also wanted to be with him, like when we were children.

We went home together, and I started telling him everything that had happened at school.

2. Mutual Affection

The next day, he offered to walk me to school, even though we took different routes. He told
me he would pick me up after school.

He did come, and we walked home together. Every day was the same;

he'd pick me up and drop me off. Our route home was different every day, always choosing winding and circuitous paths. With our schoolbags on our backs, we passed shopping malls, parks, and streets
near and far . He earned some money during the summer vacation and treated me to movies, ice cream,
bowling, and bought me little trinkets. He seemed much happier; he'd overcome the pain of heartbreak. Honestly, I
worried that after he overcame his heartbreak, he'd ignore me completely.

My classmates teased me, saying I was dating.

"No way! That boy is my brother."

"Shame on you! Shame on you dating your brother!"

I chased after the classmates who teased me, but a sweet feeling lingered in my heart.

One day, after dinner, he told my parents he'd take me to the library to study and to the foot of the mountain.
When we were little, we often came here to catch butterflies.

On the way up the mountain, the moonlight was bright, and the lights below were dazzling. He pointed to the lights below and said, "The stars have all fallen to
earth ."

I said, "No, they're in the sky."

He touched my hand, testing my reaction, and then took my hand in his. His palms were sweaty, and my heart
was pounding. When we were little, we often held hands without feeling embarrassed. But this night,
when his hand touched mine, it felt like an electric shock.

The mountain path had no streetlights, it was pitch black, and the sounds of cars below faded into the distance. We walked closer and closer, but didn't
speak . Suddenly, he put his arm around my waist. He had never done this before, and a strange feeling filled the air
between us.

On the mountain, there was a large rock, and we sat there watching the night view. He put one hand on my shoulder and the other on
my long hair, which was being blown about by the night wind. The scenery below the mountain was dreamlike and ethereal. I felt a little chilly, so I nestled in his arms,
letting his body heat warm me. I felt that we were truly so close. His lips searched my face
for a moment, then gently stopped at the corner of my mouth and kissed it. A surge of heat emanated from there, reaching behind
my ear .

Oh no, what does this mean? Why do I have this strange feeling?

Before I could figure out what was happening, we started kissing passionately. I was only thirteen years old then, and I had
many fantasies and dreams about love. I longed for someone to love me, and the first boy to kiss me was my brother.
I didn't regret giving him my first kiss. I didn't know many boys, but
among , he was handsome, extraordinary, and scholarly. He was the object of my secret admiration.

Usually, I would have a lot to say to him, such as what happened at school, what classmate A was like, what classmate B was
like . But that night, I didn't say a word; my lips were sealed by his kiss. I closed my eyes, unable to look at him.

On the way down the mountain, he held my hand, just like when we went to school together as children.

Back home, we kissed again before he let go and went to bed. I couldn't sleep; he slept on
the top bunk, and soon I could hear him sneezing. I tossed and turned, completely immersed
in the feeling of him kissing and caressing me.

From then on, we were inseparable. Except for school, we were always together. I would link my
arm with his, he would put his arm around my waist, and holding hands felt natural—we were like siblings, after all, it was natural to be close
. In quiet places, or at night when the lights were off, or before bed, he would hold me and kiss me.

He borrowed a camera and tripod from a classmate, and we went on a trip to the countryside, taking a series of intimate photos together. He chose
one of the photos of us embracing, wrote our names, the location and date of the photo on the back,
and drew two hearts, stringing them together with an arrow and the English word "love." I kept it in
my wallet , treasuring it to this day.

3. First Encounters

We had no shortage of opportunities to meet. Living together, spending every day together, it was
natural . No one suspected anything unusual about our relationship, and Mom didn't
think much of it either. Once, she accidentally saw that intimate photo in my wallet. She didn't say anything, just looked
surprised .

Another time, we were embracing and kissing in bed when Mom knocked on the door to come in. A photo of my brother and me, disheveled,
was exposed to her. Mom didn't scold us on the spot, just told us not to do it again and locked the door.

Afterwards, she talked to me about issues between men and women, like the proper boundaries between siblings, and so
on. I realized that although our love was genuine and pure, others would look at us with strange
eyes. But I trusted him and never harbored any suspicion. My mother's words didn't damage my relationship with
my brother . To avoid her suspicion, we would use excuses like going to the library or participating in school activities to sneak off to secluded
places for secret rendezvous. We were together every day, but it still didn't seem enough. During school hours, I still thought about him.

Several months passed like this. One weekend, my parents went to a banquet, and we went to see a movie—a
romantic film, which, of course, had many explicit sex scenes.

Back home, it was just the two of us. We closed the bedroom door, creating our own private world. He held me tightly and
kissed me deeply, just like the lovers in the movie. He unbuttoned my jeans, and my
heart pounded even faster. His hand slipped inside my t-shirt, trying to unbutton my bra, but he couldn't get the buttons off.

Finally, all my clothes were off, leaving only my bra, but it felt like I was completely naked.

When I was little, I wasn't shy about bathing together. Lately, I've been kissing my brother and letting him caress me every day, and I've accepted
it all. But when we're naked together, I can't look him in the eye. This is the loss of innocence
; people have drawn a line in the sand when it comes to sibling relationships. I understand now, no siblings can be this close. We
've reached this point, about to enter a deeper level of intimacy, but we're not allowed to enter.

I don't dare imagine it any further; I only think of the times we played house.

We had our prepared dialogue:

"I'll be the dad, you'll be the mom," my brother said.

"I'll cook and do your laundry," I said.

"And you'll take care of my baby," my brother said.

"Dad's home from work, come home for dinner," I said.

Now, we're doing what Mom and Dad do in the bedroom—this is a new scenario.

He was clumsy, struggling to remove my bra. Naked, I received his caresses and
kisses all over my body, making me feel aroused and unable to control myself. The bra constricted me; if I didn't remove it, I would suffocate,
so I automatically removed the last line of defense for him. He immediately took my nipples into his mouth, and I could no longer pretend.

His kisses rained down on my breasts, his fingers slipping between my legs, exploring the path.
Then his thing was inside me, completely taking me over.

I was already soaking wet from his touch, but his thing was thick and large; when it entered, it felt like it was
tearing me apart, the pain bringing tears to my eyes and making me scream.

My brother stopped thrusting: "Does it hurt?"

"It's okay, as long as you love me."

"I love you." Saying this, he ejaculated inside me.

"As long as you love me, I'm willing to give myself to you."

Just as our love was at its peak, Mom and Dad came home. We felt like we'd been caught red-handed,
too scared to move, afraid of arousing their suspicion. We didn't even have time to put our clothes back on; we covered our
naked bodies with the blanket, holding our breath until it was quiet outside, only then did we breathe a sigh of relief.

He comforted me, saying, "It's alright."

I said, "I'm so scared."

He said, "Don't be afraid, I love you."

I said, "Really?"

He said, "Really."

I said, "I love you too."

This was the first time he had ever told me "I love you." I felt we were in love. That night, I slept in my brother's
arms , closer than ever before. I felt his thing was always
inside me, never leaving. I was filled with him, my mind was filled with him. His thing was always
hard against my lower abdomen.

He fell asleep, but I couldn't sleep. I was still very scared, not knowing what tomorrow would bring. He was sixteen then,
and I was fourteen.

4. Fallen Petals
Before
dawn, I woke my brother, who was sleeping beside me. He was half-asleep, still naked, and climbed onto
the top bunk of the bed to continue sleeping. I tidied up the mess on the bed from last night; the sheets were stained with blood, marks of my lost
innocence and purity.

I quickly changed the sheets and took the soiled ones to wash. My mother was disturbed; seeing me washing
the sheets , she asked, "I just changed them for you two days ago, and they're dirty again?"

I said, "Yes. I came early and didn't realize I'd gotten them dirty."

Back in bed, I drifted off to sleep, having a series of nightmares. I woke up with a start; it was my brother kneeling beside me,
kissing me repeatedly on the lips when I was asleep.

He had intended to wake me for school, but I hadn't slept well, so I asked him to tell Mom I was skipping school today.
I was afraid to go back to school; the nun's searchlight-like gaze seemed to see right through the students' secrets.

That day, she summoned me to see her, asking if I was dating my boyfriend. I answered, "He's my brother." She
scanned my face with her searchlight, trying to verify my statement through my expression.

She said, "God will know." Then her gaze fixed on my skirt.

I had grown two inches taller, and the skirt was now too short and small, ill-fitting, exposing my thighs.

My mother went to the market to buy groceries and suddenly felt like I was the only person in the world. She hugged her pillow and cried for
no .

I promised to save myself for the person I loved most, to marry him, to have a church wedding with him, and to let him
take my virginity.

The swelling and pain in my lower body was punishment I had brought upon myself; I deserved it.

In a daze, I dreamt of having a wedding with my brother in a church. The priest said, "You and your brother cannot marry."
But I've already had a physical relationship with him, and I'm pregnant with his child. What should I do? My brother came home from school
immediately
. He saw my eyes were swollen and still had tear stains. He hugged me and comforted
me. He gently stroked my face, wiped away my tears, and held me like a child against the headboard, kissing me
repeatedly, wiping away my confusion.

This is the love I've always wanted. Even if the sky falls, as long as my brother is with me, I'm not afraid.

I said, "It still hurts down there!" I pulled my pajamas and underwear down to my knees, asking him to check.

He checked me once, but couldn't see anything wrong, so he said it was okay, that people say the first time is painful. Then
he continued to hug me, his fingers gently stroking my mons pubis, careful not to touch that area.

After dinner, he said he wanted to talk to me about last night. He took me to the mountain. In a secluded
spot , he embraced me and kissed me wildly. Unable to control his youthful impulses, he pulled down my underwear and
made love to me under the open sky.

Another tearing pain followed. This was the price of our love. I endured the pain until he took his pleasure from
me .

On the way down the mountain, his semen spilled out, staining my underwear, which I didn't put back on. A cool breeze lifted
my skirt, penetrating between my legs, creating a chill that soothed the aftermath.

We embraced and walked into the night below, as if the world had shrunk to just the two of us.

5. The Suspicion of Pregnancy

After we had sex, the sky didn't fall, and lightning didn't strike us dead. This was our
second time.

After the second time, there was a third. Every time we made love, he made me sore and swollen down there.

A fourteen-year-old girl like me hadn't thought about what would happen if I got pregnant.

My period was late, which worried us for a while. Fortunately, it was just late, but I was already
wary . Actually, at that time, sex didn't feel so good to me. After the pregnancy rumors cleared up, when he
asked me to have sex again, I always used the possibility of a child as an excuse to keep my distance.

There's an English proverb that says, "Where there's a will, there's a way." If you want to do something, you'll
find a way to do it. He bought condoms so I wouldn't have an excuse to refuse him.

I said, "But it will hurt a lot."

He said, "I'll be gentler, I'll be more accommodating."

He really did learn to be gentle and considerate.

However, we couldn't go up the mountain to make love every night; the mosquitoes there bit my legs until they were red and swollen. Inside the house,
we had to wait until no one was home. But when the opportunity arose, he would make love to me. Having made love to my brother, our relationship
had deepened. I knew he wanted to make love to me; it was my greatest pleasure. Did I feel guilty afterward?
No matter how I explained it to my conscience, I knew I had done something wrong.

Since our relationship progressed to the level of sex, we became more wary, maintaining a certain distance at home and
in front of , afraid of arousing suspicion. Sometimes he would take me to his classmates' activities,
clearly ignoring me intentionally. At his age, some of his classmates were already dating, some would bring their girlfriends
out , and in those situations, they would openly show their affection and care for their girlfriends. I didn't dare hope to
receive the same treatment, but he treated me like I didn't exist. Being beside him felt superfluous,
even a burden.

One or two of my female classmates were quite pretty and knew how to dress well. I could tell he was using them as an excuse to get close to them. Every time
they talked for a bit, I'd get jealous. After the party, when we were away from his classmates, he tried to hold my hand or put his arm around
my waist, but I wouldn't let him. He tried to kiss me, but I turned my head away and avoided
him .

That's when he realized I was throwing a tantrum. He was very resourceful. He'd buy me a small gift, say sweet words, take me to the beach to see the night view and
feel the sea breeze, and I'd forget all my unhappiness. I'd fall back into his arms, wholeheartedly becoming
his little lover, letting him have sexual control over me.

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My brother's lover (1-12)

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