Brothers in Shame or Sharing

 These stories lately about bunk beds have made me think about the special role bunk beds played in my own growing-up experience. I’ve been thinking about it for a few days and decided to try to write and submit my own story.

  My parents had three children, all boys, and I was the middle child. I grew up in an old, small three-bedroom house with one little bathroom. My brother Kevin was two years older than me, and my brother Patrick was two years younger than me. Having three bedrooms, Kevin and I each had our own rooms as little boys until my brother Patrick outgrew his crib and my parents wanted to move him out of their bedroom. So they had to decide how to split two rooms among three boys. They decided it would be best to let the two older boys, Kevin and I, share a room and let the baby have his own room right across from my parent’s, sort of like a nursery. The bedroom that Kevin and I were now going to share was way too small to fit two beds, so my parents bought us bunkbeds. Kevin and I were both thrilled and I immediately requested that I wanted the upper bunk.

  Sometime around when Kevin was probably almost 12 years old, as I think back it appears he became very modest. Whenever we needed to change in the room together, he would always stand facing a wall. He also insisted that we were way too old to bathe together, so that changed the dynamic in our tiny little one bathroom house. Kevin then got to bathe alone and I began bathing with my younger brother Patrick to save time every night. The significance of all of this is that once Kevin apparently started approaching puberty I never again saw him naked on his front-side. I also remember at that time, when Kevin was 12, that most every night in my upper bunk the whole bed would seem to gently rock and squeak a little bit, maybe for just five minutes or so, but I remember it got to be something that happened almost every night. I honestly thought nothing about it. I had no idea why the bed would do this, nor did I seem to care.

  Then one day after school, when Kevin was either 13 or almost 13, I was playing outside with a friend and I wanted to get something out of my room. I ran up the stairs and pushed my bedroom door open, and there I saw my brother lying on his bunk with his pants pulled down, his shirt pulled up, and he seemed to be doing something fast and unusual with his hand on his dick. I had burst into the room at exactly the worst possible moment because my brother was apparently within a couple seconds of hitting that “point of no return” when you have no control over the fact that you are about to ejaculate. I remember coming to a halt and staring, both shocked and confused at what I was seeing.

 First, I noticed that my brother Kevin’s dick had grown absolutely huge. His penis was obviously stiff and overall his dick looked to now be at least three times as big as mine. It now had hair around too. It also looked to me like he was squirting tiny squirts of piss onto his stomach and chest, over and over. Kevin then quickly pulled his shirt down over his wet chest and stomach and started yelling at me, “Get out! Get out!” I did as he said, now in shock at all that I had just seen. I tried asking him after that what he was doing on his bed, and his angry response to me was, “Nothing! I wasn’t doing nothing!” But that very next day Kevin demanded to our parents that because he was the oldest, he should have his own room and that Patrick and I should be the ones to share a room. My parents apparently thought he made a good case, and they asked Patrick and I if we would be okay with that. Patrick was 9 at the time and very excited that he might get the opportunity to be in the top bunk. We all agreed, and that weekend we made the big move.

  Ultimately, Patrick and I grew very close and Kevin and I grew quite distant. That was the only post-puberty time that I ever saw Kevin’s dick. As I started to grow a little older he never shared anything with me about the upcoming magic of masturbation, and obviously we never did anything like that together. When Patrick and I moved in together it quickly became apparent to me the Patrick was quite the comfortable little nudist. Unlike Kevin, I openly allowed Patrick to observe all of my developing puberty as it was happening. He was amused when I developed little hairs and was fascinated to tug on them and tell me how big my balls were getting. Sometimes I’d get stiff and he get stiff too, and we were both comfortable with that.

 

  I ended up discovering masturbation on my own, and as experienced by my older brother Kevin, I would make the bed shake every night just like he did. And when the time came, I introduced Patrick to the joys of masturbation. He had I became good jerk-off buddies as well as close brothers. We stayed together in the same bedroom until Kevin left for college and then Patrick and I had our own rooms. But whenever Kevin would come home, I gladly offered him his old room back and I would sleep in the open bunk in Patrick’s room.

 To this day, my younger brother Patrick and I are still very close and our kids all love playing together. They’re very close cousins. Kevin and I don’t dislike each other, but neither are we close. We see or talk to each other maybe two or three times a year. I think the special trust that Patrick and I shared as brothers, compared to the intimacy that was completely absent in my boyhood relationship with Kevin, set the stage for how our relationships evolved as we all became adults.

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