Apr 17, 2011

The "OTHER" Brother

I know it might sound slightly self-deprecating but I really didn't understand how I had so many guys paying attention to me while I was on my exchange. Was it my foreign alluuuure? Perhaps. Even then, Canada is far from exotic!

No matter. I had recently said good bye to Jim - 3 hours of my life I don't think I will ever truly get over; I was pretty messed up. I was meant to have moved to my last host family weeks before, but they had pulled out because they had heard I was some kind of social deviant, as told by my second host family from hell, the McFucks. A new family agreed to take me for the final 8 weeks of my year - a damn pain in the ass to move again with only 8 weeks left, but I didn't have any say in the matter.

The new family was wonderful, not to mention the dad was a professional photographer with a giant studio in the house. MOIST! He even took some fantastic photos of me - like glamor shots; I looked fucking HOT. (And before you read into anything: No, he wasn't a dirty old man; they were strickly on the up-and-up.) Maybe I'll post a couple some day... not any time soon though.

This lovely family had something else... a 15 year old son. Sure, he was very adorable but he was only fifteen! (I was edging closer to 18 at this point) I had absolutely zero attraction to him beyond the annoying little brother relationship that I "thought" we were forming... until the first night that he insisted on coming out with me for my nightly smoke before bed.

He stood outside with me in his jersey pajamas... pitching a tent the entire time! AAACK! Point that thing somewhere else, puu-leeze! It was difficult to avert my eyes, truly. I thought that involuntary reaction embarrassed guys but he was either oblivious or proud of his protruding package. After a couple days, I tried to convince him that it wasn't good for him to breathe in my smoke; it never worked and he wasn't taking any of my other oh-so-subtle hints.

In hindsight, I'm sure he was giving himself a pep-talk before every outing, "Tonight. I'll tell her tonight!" Ugh. I wince at the awkwardness of it all. He never did 'tell' me anything... until the last night before I moved back to Canada. I guess he figured he had nothing else to lose. Well, that is something I actually know how it feels - I can't penalize him too harshly. Ah-hem.

I got home at some ridiculous hour - probably 3am, I'm guessing. I had been partying with my friends all night and I was still pretty drunk when I stumbled down the hallway, passing his door. I tried to be quiet so to enjoy one last smoke by myself; one last night in Australia. He came out almost instantly; he must have been waiting.


After I was done, he followed me back inside and just as I was attempting a slurred, "G'nnnight" he pinned me up against the wall and stuck his tongue down my throat. I should also mention that he was tall, really tall. So while he was face raping me, his giant pocket sword was practically drilling a hole through his jersey pants and into my bellybutton! Wrong hole, honey, for real!

Was it his first 'real' kiss? I could only hazard a guess and say 'Yes'. He was gnawing my face as if he was trying to eat me as well as make out. It was bordering on painful; both physically and otherwise. In my intoxicated state, I surely let it go on longer than it should have, but even so, I think it was some of the longest and weirdest 10 seconds of my life.

Oddly enough, the family that pulled out from hosting me had two sons - 19 and 18. Maybe it was a good thing I didn't live there because apparently this Siren's song was hypnotizing as hell. Who knew?

If someone had told me all this was going to happen before I left, I would have called them a liar.


  1. Yeah, the face-gnawing is definitely not cool. Speaking of not cool, I had no idea we Canadians were so sought after on the global marketplace. Excessively polite doesn't usually translate into sexy, but apparently I was wrong. Good to know!

    Off to read your McFucks post - sounds interesting.

  2. i always thought it would have been fun to travel during high school so you get to be the cool, mysterious foreign exchange kid. i think i might have enjoyed some of that attention in high school since i never thought i got enough here at home.
    you should have done something really naughty to that boy & left him with the memory of a lifetime.

  3. That involuntary reaction usually DOES embarrass guys when we're that age, especially if it happens when wearing loose pants. To help, we try to turn away from any audience. Or tuck "ourselves" between our legs (sorta like a do-it-yourself sex change). This, of course, forces us to bend over at the waist like a houseboy. But, as we get older, it's not so much as "involuntary" as an "incomprehensible surprise." Hey, lookit this!
    "McFucks": too much.

  4. What a crazy story. I can't believe he waited up for you and sprung on you like that. Insane. I probably would have screamed and woke up the whole house, creating an even more embarrassing situation. How did you get him to stop?

  5. One word that cracked me up the most in this post....MOIST!

    Ahahahahahaha. Love it!

  6. @theTsaritsa
    The stopping part is a bit of a blur, to be honest. I think I did a duck and roll - and a quick GOOD NIGHT! LOL

    Yes, things like built-in art/photography studios have that affect on me - I needed to change my panties.

  7. what is the percentage of men who are actually good kissers??? I suppose men might wonder the same about women, but honestly...

  8. @karen
    I'm not sure, but I don't like feeling teeth, never mind having those teeth scraping the top layers of my face of. HA! I've had some pretty great kissers too.

  9. Erk! Awkward!!

    There are so many teenage incidients (similarish) that just make me wince on reflection. It really is a most difficult time. x

  10. Those awkward 15 year old kisses...ah yes...I remember them not so fondly!

  11. Damn, I was hoping you were going to give him a decent kissing lesson. Love that he was packing wood every time he was within an ear shot of you.

  12. Reminds me of my "good Catholic boy" kiss. Blech. Maybe they should find a way to teach GOOD kissing in schools?



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