Teaching My Brother To Suck Cock

My body was made for this cock. My face born to be a hole to store it in. He was my older brother after all. Our DNA strains matched. They belonged together. Our bodies, our anatomy, our very existence, meant to complement each other.
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In the blackness of the night I could hear the wind brush through the branches of the trees above us. The moonlight lit up the roof of our small two-person tent. Crickets provided the background noise somewhere in the distance. I couldn’t sleep. Nature wasn’t for me.
Every year since I was about five the family went on a weekend trip into the Washington woods. It was fun as children. Running freely, scared of walking into bears and what not. But I was twenty now. I didn’t understand why I still had to join on this stupid trip. Annoyed I rolled onto my side, accepting my fate of insomnia in the wild.
The summer heat was doable, but I was still hot in my pyjama pants. Next to me, my brother Brock was sleeping like an ox. His heavy breath ending in a roaring snore. His big chest moving up and down. Gods he was built. At 24 he was a real man. Whereas I was 5″7 and couldn’t gain weight or muscles no matter how I changed my diet, he was ripped head to toe.
I heard an owl close by. Ugh, how was he asleep right now?
I continued to listen to his ragged breath for at least a half an hour, hoping it would sooth me into sleep as if I were counting sheep, until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I rolled over to him with as much noise I could make in my sleeping bag. The warmth of his body somewhat made me less courageous, but I...