My Sister's Boyfriend

My twin sister is a bitch…But she’s still my sister and I’d do anything for her.

When I finished uni and found a job with the Council’s finance department and got my own flat, Emma, the bitch younger -by-five-minutes twin—moved in with me. Not my idea, but…Basically mum and dad had washed their hands of her and she either came to live with me or with the latest in a long line of her loser boyfriends or equally irresponsible female friends. Being the responsible and too-kind-hearted-for-my-own-good older twin, I offered my spare room as a temporary stopgap. Two years later she was still there, me threatening to put a revolving door on her bedroom to cope with the seemingly endless string of boyfriends. Yes, I’m jealous. I’m gay and most nights I sleep alone. Em’s better at attracting men than I am. However, I like to believe my lack of success is because I’m more discerning.

I didn’t bother learning the names of most of Em’s boyfriends. One would show up at the breakfast table Saturday morning, but nine times out of ten a different man would be sitting in the third chair come the following Saturday morning. Cory Hawkins—yes, I’d learned his name—was the current guy. I’d taken note of him because he was a cut above the rest. He had a job for a start. And standing at six feet four inches, blond curly hair, wide at the shoulder—and everywhere else—he was easy on the eye. According to Em, he had a thick nine-inch dick. I made a point of scoping out his crotch bulge the next time I met him. Judging from the prolonged and frequent moans, groans, and screams coming through the wall that separated Em’s room from mine, it seemed Cory was perfectly capable of putting all nine inches to good use. Yep, definitely jealous. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t jerk off while listening to them go at it.

Cory played for a local amateur rugby league team, worked as a bouncer at a nightclub in the city, and for all I knew, helped little old ladies cross the road, too. In short, he was an all-around good bloke. God knew what he saw in my sister. No, that was unkind. Em had some good qualities, she just kept them buried deep. I wish I’d found Cory—or a gay version of him—first. Maybe I should ask him if he had a brother, or better still an identical twin.

I was like Em in that I couldn’t keep a man for more than a few dates. Although unlike my sister, they were the ones who seemed to lose interest. I wouldn’t mind, I wasn’t bad looking or anything, I had a job, my own place…and a live-in twin sister. Guess it was true what they said about how nice guys always came last.

I knew I’d have to make more of an effort to get out there. It’d been so long since I’d last gotten laid, I was considering declaring my arse virgin territory again. Binge watching shows on Netflix of a Friday night while eating microwaved frozen pizza wouldn’t exactly help me find Mr Right.

I was halfway through the pizza—a particularly inedible stuffed crust—when there came a knocking at the front door. Pausing an episode of The Crown, I got up to answer.

“Hi, Mike.” It was Cory.

I was confused. “Aren’t you supposed to be out with Em?”

It was his turn to look confused. It was then I noticed the crutches and a large boot on his left foot. “No. Thought she’d be here.”

My confusion deepened, quickly followed by a realisation that most likely Cory had been dumped, either that or Em was in the process of finding another guy to warm her bed while still keeping the current one, just in case the new one didn’t work out. Told you she was a bitch. A part of me wondered if I was wrong and if Em was in trouble and…I tried to remember if she’d said anything about where she was going that night but quickly concluded she hadn’t; she rarely did.

“Uh, Mike, can I come in? My foot’s killing me,” Cory said, shuffling slightly.

“Uh, sure. Sorry.” I stepped aside and as Cory passed, I noticed he was wearing a rucksack.

“What happened?”

“Broke my ankle in training yesterday afternoon.”

“Ouch!” I winced. “Come through and make yourself comfortable.”

“Thanks, but I need to take a piss and wash off some of this sweat first. Walking from the bus stop took it out of me.”

“Bus? Why didn’t you drive…? Oh, yeah.” I realised his broken ankle would stop him from driving. “Okay, you know where the loo is.” I watched his firm, full arse as Cory and it moved down the hallway and turned right into the bathroom. I resisted the urge to ask him if he needed help. I wasn’t sure if Em had told him I was gay.