I awoke slowly, first opening my eyes for a moment then allowing them to close and drift off for another few minutes. How many times I did this, I'm not sure, but each time I basked in that warm drowsy feeling that if you've ever experienced insomnia is something you would kill for. As always, it appeared a visit with Mark was all that I needed. When I finally opened my eyes and could keep them open I saw that it was 7am, and as I rolled over I realized Mark had gotten up. I must have really been out not to notice him leaving.
Mark was a creature of habit. Although I hadn't heard the alarm I knew he had gotten up at 6am to go upstairs to the gym where he would work out until 8. Two full hours every day, weights, the universal, and a half hour session with the punching bag. This routine helped keep him sane. On the surface Mark did not appear to have the issues that I have had. Drug addiction is an obvious problem almost impossible to hide. Mark's addiction is more subtle, for lack of a better term Mark is a rage-a-holic.
Having endured years of abuse at the hands of a coke addict (The one who fractured his skull) my brother has a lot of darkness inside. When he was younger this would lead to black out rages making Mark's insomnia all the more dangerous. Just like mine, it can trigger that darkness. Where I am self destructive, Mark is pure destruction. Put in an equation it would be; Insomnia +Rage +20 years of martial arts training equals: Oh shit! Seventeen years ago when he was twenty Mark ran into his foster father Max in a bar and using cocaine lured him back to his apartment where he came within seconds of killing him. Only a great lawyer provided by a family friend got Mark off spinning it as self defense so that it appeared Max had recognized Mark and had followed him home. Max had been in critical condition for over a week. Had he died Mark might never have gotten to where he was today.
Since then, with the exception of a few bad situations his drug addled sister put him in the middle of, Mark has been able to pretty much maintain control. His theory is that he works out early so he gets the adrenalin out of his system before anybody pisses him off. Anyone who has ever watched him work the punching back walks away disturbed. Although it was over twenty years ago Mark has told me that after a few minutes all he sees is Max who beat him mostly for talking if you can believe that. If you have the nerve to stand next to my brother while he is hammering away full force at the bag you can hear him whisper "Are you still making noise?"
Of course Mark has another outlet for that darkness and the room I was lying in was the prime example of it. Those of us who enjoy the S&M lifestyle are very critical of "posers" people trying to look cool or playing at it, attending the clubs thinking they're the shit when in reality all they are is bait for people like us. My brother is a true master of women, many of them having been broken and trained in this very bed. It is said that all Dominants were once themselves broken, and have learned to turn the tables. I myself was broken by being sexually abused.
To this day I sometimes have a hard time having sex with men when I am not fully in control, hence my tendency to dominate, however with women its different I am fine with lying back and letting them play. As for Mark; well the woman who broke him was none other than his nasty big sister. As I said earlier Mark is everything to me; brother, best friend and of course my lover of at this point almost twenty years. Rolling over onto my stomach I closed my eyes hoping to nod off again. As I lay there I reflected on our relationship.
Trust me I know that I sound like a sick puppy. I am well aware of the fact that fucking one's brother is generally associated with West Virginia trailer parks and is universally frowned upon but I have always believed if it feels good do it and fucking my brother has always felt pretty damn good. I mean don't get me wrong I don't advertise it. Mark and I have kept this secret the entire time and after all these years the only thing that bothers me about it may just be the fact that it's never bothered me. I was twenty and Mark was eighteen the night that I first seduced him and it just made sense at the time.
Back then, due to almost ten years apart, Mark and I were not that close in the sense of brother and sister. But we were very close in that we were both tortured souls who had been through and survived things that most people can't ever understand. So close in fact that even before my taking him we slept together. This started when I would hear Mark through the adjoining bathroom we shared wake up screaming from nightmares. After a few nights I went in there and lying down with him held him and told him of my own bad dreams. After that night at least a couple of times a week we would sleep in each other's beds.
Mark felt so good! As I had said before we both have that empty feeling inside but when we were close like that it seemed to disappear. It was as if we as if we fit together like two pieces of a broken plate. We were the only person the other trusted. Mark was the only man I knew who would never hurt me. In fact Mark, who everyone else considered a bad ass, followed me around like a puppy dog. I think it was the fact that I knew I could control him that led me to deciding to fuck him. Well that and one other issue
I was twenty and horny as hell and on any given day I would masturbate twice a day and some days? Well let's just say that carpal tunnel was in my near future. I was quite an attractive girl and had no problems getting dates, and although I would not refer to myself as easy, I wasn't all that hard to get either and had no initial qualms about letting some lucky guy get a piece of my pretty little pussy and if they were really good; a sampling of these made for cock sucking lips. Problem was most of the time; because of what I went through I would get uptight or nervous, not enjoying the way I should. I knew these guys weren't going to hurt me and I could spend all day thinking about the great time I was going to have, hell I could soak through my panties but when the time came I just couldn't seem to cut loose. Not that the guys seemed to notice, they thought I was a pretty good lay, little did they know they weren't getting half of what this nasty girl really wanted to give.
Meanwhile Mark was having issues of his own. Trust me when I tell you my brother was beautiful even back then. At eighteen he looked twenty one, and with those pretty features and a body that was the result of working out three hours a day, he should have getting more pussy than he could handle. Unfortunately because of what he had been through Mark still did not speak all that much and trusted no one, well that wasn't entirely true. Mark did trust one person. Who? Why his loving big sister Megan of course! Mark did have a girlfriend at the time named Krissy who was also amazingly still cherry. Between the two of them they were too nervous to cross the line.
So here I was getting it, but nowhere near as good as I wanted it, and Mark not getting anything at all. Well hey the way I saw it we'd be helping each other. I'd be able to cut loose the way I wanted to and Mark would get over the hump so to speak. At that point he'd then be confident enough to go take his little Krissy and then she'd be benefitting as well! Whoever said I wasn't a giver? Since then Mark and I have always been lovers. The only thing that's changed over the years is the frequency, and that all depended on where we were in life. In our early twenties we were a constant. Matter of fact because of my issues with guys in general there was a period of a couple of years that Mark's was the only cock I was getting. That was also the time I myself was seduced by a fellow RISD student named Betty who introduced me to the finer points of the softer sex.
