Indian Gay sex story — How I fucked My brother 1

Indian Gay sex story —  How I fucked My brother 1

I am Deepak living in North India.This Story explains how I fuck my brother Raj.
Raj is my younger brother.My mother died when I was six and Raj was 2.My father sent us to a Boarding as he was into a transferable job.After completing our studies ,We both moved to North India as I got a job there.
I know I was gay but I can’t say about Raj. But soon when I told him about my orientation and my relationship with my office colleague Sanjay.He said he was Ok with it. Soon he got a job too and moved near his office. Afterwards we met   occasionally.
My brother Raj was a cunt slut.
His schemes were simple but effective. Having his latest fling “meet the family” as a demonstration of commitment was one of his favorite ways of getting into their pants. Since I was the only reliable family member he had living in Delhi, I was the one he always asked out. I’d never really found it fun to play the good little brother as Raj made baby talk with a dumb bombshell. Still, I went along with it because I figured it was the brotherly thing to do.
This was what I expected when I got a call from Raj one late afternoon. The interruption was a welcome relief as I’d been in the midst of a painter’s block and was close to chuck the canvas out the window.
“Hey man,” chirped Raj. “What’s up?”.
“Well, I was trying to paint but it doesn’t look like it’s gonna happen tonight.” I gave the canvas a hard look, but it just gave me a blank look back.
“Aw, how come?”.
“I guess I’m taped out of inspiration.”.
“Hey, here’s an idea,” said Raj. “Why don’t I come over and we grab something to eat?”.

“Right,” I sighed. “So who’s the girl this time?” The last one had almost talked my ears off, and the one before that had been just plain nuts.
“Aww, Deepak, there’s no girl this time. It’s just me.”.
Uh oh, I thought. What’s he up to now?.
“Well,” I said aloud, “There’s that Italian restaurant we had last time.”.
Raj liked Italian.
“Yeah that one was good,” he agreed. “Kind of pricey, though. How about we raid a McDonalds or get loaded on a pound of Kentucky Fried Chicken instead?”.
“Raj, that’s friggin’ gross. Why don’t you just come over to my place? I was going to make pasta anyway.”.
I liked Italian too.
“Sure!” he said, “I’ll see ya tonight.”.
“What time-”.
Click. He’d hung up.
Asshole, I thought, even though I was smiling.
There was a knock at my door.
I’d texted him about the time, and he’d texted back that he’ll be there around six. He was late. It was past seven now and I was fighting aliens on my laptop to keep my mind distracted from my stomach’s unhappy noises. I let the aliens win as I went  to get the door.
“Hey bro,” grinned Raj. His wet hair and the gigantic duffel bag slung over his shoulders told me he’d probably come straight from the showers of the hockey arena. He looked fresh though.
“You’re late.” I noted.
“I know. There was this chic in the crowd.” He scratched his jaw, still grinning. He was almost good-looking if in a rough, untrustworthy kind of way.
“I thought you were seeing Neeru.”.
“It’s Ritu now. Hey you got any beer? I’m starving, what you got cooking?”.
“Linguini primavera,” I handed him the beer and went over to the stove where I was keeping the sauce warm. I tasted it. It was a little saltier than I liked from sitting out, but it would do. I poured it over the pasta and served.
“Looks great,” he said as he plunked himself onto the kitchen table and started gorging.
He munched for a while and then said, “So, why’d you and Sanjay breakup?”.
That threw me. I put my fork down. Sure, I was out to my family, but I had only just broken up with my boyfriend of two years. That had been less than two weeks ago and I hadn’t told a soul.
I decided to temporize. “What makes you think we broke up?”.
“You took down his photographs,” he said, pointing his fork at a blank wall.
“Oh.” I had. It hadn’t occurred to me that he’d notice. Raj could be kind of perceptive sometimes for a jock.
“Plus Ashish said so. So I thought I’d come over and check you out.”.
I felt embarrassed. Sure, the break up had been mutual. But I hadn’t been ready to deal with being single yet. And how the fuck had my sister found out?.
Raj put a hand on my shoulder and giving me a concerned big-brother look. “Hey. You doing alright?”.
“Yeah.”.
“Well. If you ever wanna talk. I don’t know much about relationships with guys, but y’know?” He smiled. “I’m here.”.
His hand was still on my shoulder. I could feel its warmth. Truth be told, Raj was a hot number. In fact, if he hadn’t been my brother. woah there! Get your mind out of the gutter Deepak!.
I sat back on the chair and his hand fell away. “Thanks Raj.” I said, maybe a bit too curtly because Raj gave me a funny look.
“Anyway,” said my brother. “There’s another thing I wanted to meet up with you about.” He sighed, massaging his neck.
He laid his hands flat on the table, palms down. A determined look. I noticed the dark hair all along his muscled forearms.
“Look. I’m just going to come out and say it. I’m swimming in debt, man. The job at the warehouse, it’s steady but it barely covers the rent and utilities. I’m a bouncer on Saturdays at a club too, but it isn’t enough. I was wondering if maybe. they  could use me at your work place. I’m open to anything.”.
I felt bad for him. It knew what it had cost him to ask his kid brother for help, but there wasn’t much I could do. I was a lowly assistant instructor in the arts school and Raj couldn’t tell a Picasso from a Michelangelo. We needed people with artistic   talents, not a six-foot muscled hulk who might accidentally break a figurine. I suppressed a chuckle at the thought of mincing Mr. Prince  teaching Raj how to make jewellery. Mind you, Mr. Prince would enjoy the view, hell, almost everyone  would.
And that’s when I realized we could use him. May be. A smile crept across my face.
Raj brightened, “You got an idea. Come on man, spill it.”.
“You really serious about being open to anything?” I was grinning now.
“Yeah! Damn right I am!” he slammed the table with his fist.
I chortled. “Great! How’d you like to be a nude model?”.
The expression on his face was priceless. Or rather the sequence of expressions — from incredulity, to chagrin, and finally to resignation, all transitioning seamlessly into the other. In fact, I thought, it might even be possible to convey those facets  with the right layering of acrylic.
“You serious?” he exclaimed.
I nodded.
He contemplated it for a minute and then asked seriously, “What do I need to do?”.
I told him. There’d be no fooling around. It usually started with some warm up poses, but eventually he’d have to hold poses for at least an hour, with twenty minute breaks in between. It helped if the model got creative with the poses since it made  the painting more interesting.
I let him mull it over. Finally, he said sheepishly, “What if I get, y’know.turned on?”.
The image came involuntarily: My brother lying naked with his cock hard. I swallowed and shook my head. Man, I seriously needed to get laid.
“Think of Mrs. Sharma nude.” I suggested. Mrs. Sharma was a shriveled up 70-something prune who’d taught us both English in high school. I’d used her on a number of occasions to calm my horny self down. I was using her now.
“But what if I mess up?” he said anxiously.
I shrugged, “We could practice. Get you comfortable.” A part of my brain was screaming something urgent but I wasn’t listening. I was a professional. I was helping my brother out. And if on occasion I entertained less than brotherly thoughts, when had mere thoughts done any harm?.
“You mean try it here?”.
“Yeah.”.
“Now?”.
“Sure, if you want.” I kept my voice light. It was important that I keep this casual.
“I need more beer.”.
“If you knock yourself out you’re not going to be able to hold a pose.” I warned.
“Ok. I’ll just have one, ok?” He was committed, just about.
“You can use my robe; it’s behind the washroom door.” I told him.
Raj got up to get another beer, and I quickly dropped the dishes into the sink. I picked up the stuff I’d need and moved the television in the living room so that I’d have a clear view of the sofa from where I’d be painting. I could hear Raj pacing around  the kitchen and then move into the washroom. There was the unmistakable sound of Raj unzipping and loosening his belt buckle. The anticipation was killing me.
Finally, Raj reappeared in my robe. He chucked the empty beer can in the garbage bin.
“Ok. Let’s do this.” He said grimly.
I turned on the studio lighting.
“Alright, strip!”.
The robe fell to the floor.
Oh baby baby.
Feeling a little light headed, I vaguely heard him say nervously, “Where you want me?”.
“Just sit on the coach, find a comfy position.” I said. He wasn’t hard, but man, even so it was something else. He sat. He leaned back and put his massive arms loosely across the top of the sofa, his abs and shoulders rippling all the while.
Now to set the scene. I had to do something about Raj’s nervousness too. I went over to his duffel back.

To be continued ….