u/magicmilf6969

I’ve been living at home for about a year now helping take care of our parents. Its just the four of us in the house so privacy is already limited. The other morning I finished my shower, stepped out and was drying off. I left the door cracked open to let the steam out because the vent is broken. My brother was standing there just watching through the partially open door. He didn’t move, or look away when he saw me. He just… stayed. Looking. For way longer than any normal person would. Long enough that it was getting really hard to act “normal”.

I was pissed at first. Didnt quite know what to say or if I should confront him. After a few days and neither of us mentioning it I thought that would be the end of it.

Its not.

I keep replaying it. The way he didn’t even pretend to look away. How quiet the hallway was. How my pulse jumped when I realized he was still there. I keep thinking about what would of happened if I acknowledged him. If I smiled. If I turned to face him fully instead of half-hiding behind the door. If I let the towel drop lower or didn’t bother with it at all. The thought makes my face heat up even now days later sitting alone in my room.

Now I’m inventing scenarios. “Accidentally” leaving the bathroom door cracked wider. Taking longer in the shower so the steam rolls out into the hall. Walking to my room in just the towel and hoping he’s there again. Sometimes I picture him stepping inside instead of just watching. Closing the door behind him. Not asking. Just deciding. And the worst part is how badly I want that version to be real.

Its gotten darker than just the looking. Lately the thoughts have shifted into something heavier. I keep imagining him not stopping at staring. I keep imagining him deciding he can use me. Pushing me down onto the bed or the bathroom floor or against the wall and not pulling out. Filling me. Breeding me. The word itself makes my stomach twist but I can’t stop going back to it. The idea of him finishing inside me like its his right. Of my body being for that. Of waking up the next morning knowing something from him is already taking root. Of having to hide it while we both still live under the same roof still take care of our parents still act like nothing has changed even though everything has.

I know how fucked up that is. He’s my brother. We grew up in the same house. I shouldn't be so turned on by this. Instead it sits in the front of my head and gets louder. I catch myself listening for his footsteps when I’m getting dressed. I wonder if he’s thinking about it too—if the memory of me half-naked and flustered is still sitting with him the same way its sitting with me. Sometimes I imagine him finding out somehow reading something like this and deciding he’s done pretending neither of us is circling the same idea.

I haven’t said anything to him. I don’t know if I ever will. But I keep coming back to this, and writing it down because it's all I can think about now. It's been the only thing going through my mind as I masturbate, and I cum so hard when I think of him just using me. Something about his stare is what did it. it was the way he just looked, not blinking, not moving, like he didn't care. like if he decided, he could just have taken me then and there and nothing could have stopped him. What is turning me on the most is thinking that I would have let him.

I hate how much space its taking up in my head. And I hate even more that the hate isn’t strong enough to make me stop.

I’ve been living at home for about a year now helping to take care of our parents. It’s just the four of us in the house, so privacy is already limited. The other morning I finished my shower, stepped out, and was drying off. I left the door cracked open to let steam out because the vent is broken.. My younger brother was standing there, just watching through the partially open door. He didn’t jump or look away. He just… stayed. Looking. For way longer than any normal person would. Long enough that it was getting really hard to act "normal" as I got dressed.

I was pissed at first. Didn't quite know what to say, or if I should confront him. After a few days and neither of us mentioning it, I thought that would be the end of it.

It’s not.

I keep replaying it. The way he didn’t even pretend to look away. How quiet the hallway was. How my pulse jumped when I realized he was still there. I keep thinking about what would have happened if I acknowledged him there. If I smiled, or turned to face him.

Now I’m inventing scenarios. “Accidentally” leaving the bathroom door cracked. Taking longer in the shower so the steam rolls out. Walking to my room in just the towel and hoping he’s in the hall again. Part of me wants him to get caught looking again so I can react and see what he does.

I know this is fucked up. He’s my brother. We grew up in the same house. But the more I try to shut it down, the more it sits in the front of my head. I catch myself listening for his footsteps when I’m getting dressed. I wonder if he’s thinking about it too.

I haven’t said anything to him. I don’t know if I ever will. But the fact that I’m even writing this means the line already moved, and I’m the one who keeps walking toward it.

I’ve been living at home for about a year now helping to take care of our parents. It’s just the four of us in the house, so privacy is already limited. The other morning I finished my shower, stepped out, and was drying off. I left the door cracked open to let steam out because the vent is broken.. My younger brother was standing there, just watching through the partially open door. He didn’t jump or look away. He just… stayed. Looking. For way longer than any normal person would. Long enough that it was getting really hard to act "normal" as I got dressed.

I was pissed at first. Didn't quite know what to say, or if I should confront him. After a few days and neither of us mentioning it, I thought that would be the end of it.

It’s not.

I keep replaying it. The way he didn’t even pretend to look away. How quiet the hallway was. How my pulse jumped when I realized he was still there. I keep thinking about what would have happened if I acknowledged him there. If I smiled, or turned to face him.

Now I’m inventing scenarios. “Accidentally” leaving the bathroom door cracked. Taking longer in the shower so the steam rolls out. Walking to my room in just the towel and hoping he’s in the hall again. Part of me wants him to get caught looking again so I can react and see what he does.

I know this is fucked up. He’s my brother. We grew up in the same house. But the more I try to shut it down, the more it sits in the front of my head. I catch myself listening for his footsteps when I’m getting dressed. I wonder if he’s thinking about it too.

I haven’t said anything to him. I don’t know if I ever will. But the fact that I’m even writing this means the line already moved, and I’m the one who keeps walking toward it.