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At that moment, my big brother thrust into me several times, then stilled himself inside me once more. "That was nice," I admitted, knowing that he could hear my smile.

"Have there been any other hentai clips you particularly liked?" he asked.

I somehow had the feeling that this line of questioning was designed to lead toward a specific goal. Unfortunately, I was unable to determine exactly what his goal was in this case. He was already buried deep inside me, so it could certainly not be a "ploy" to try to fuck me. Was he trying to find out what types of hentai I liked more than others? Perhaps was he leading me toward what he liked in terms of hentai? Maybe he was trying to hint of things he wanted to try with me now that we would have plenty of time alone?

The latter question consumed my mind for a moment. Clearly, he was not a shapeshifter, so he did not have the ability to suddenly grow a few tentacles and rape me like the perverted octopus. What else would he want to try? Anal sex? Did he want to share me with someone - and, given that we had just moved into the apartment less than twenty-four hours earlier, who would he know in Berkeley to share me with? Back east, we had attended anime conventions in costume on occasion, so did he perhaps want me to find or make a specific costume and dress as that character to bring a hentai scene into reality?

I turned my thoughts back to his question. Had there been any other hentai clips I particularly liked?

"You're blushing," he noted, even though I could still feel his forehead against the back of my head. Yet again, my fraternal twin knew me just about as well as I knew myself. Once his comment permeated my thoughts, it was only then that I realized that I felt warmer, especially in the face and neck and chest.

I simply nodded. What else could I do?

"Why are you blushing? You know that I won't think bad of you based on your answer."

I still drew a deep breath - one which subtly jostled his hand upon my breast - before I replied. "I liked the bondage ones the best."

I heard my big brother's smile and felt him swell subtly within me. "You and I must be subconsciously telepathic," he quipped, then thrust slowly into me again, causing me to moan softly.

A few moments of silence passed before I asked, "What did you like most about those bondage clips? Other than seeing those naked tits, I mean."

We laughed together as my prohibited lover fondled my chest. He was definitely a "breast man," and he definitely made no qualms about it. When we were alone, he would often touch my breasts, squeezing them, feeling their weight in the palms of his hands, supporting them like a human bra, pinching or flicking the nipples, using them for leverage as he made love to me from behind. He would even occasionally spank my breasts lightly, or play them like bongo drums. Yet I definitely did not mind, as I had long felt that my chest was my best asset, and it had always given me quite a thrill when someone openly stared at my chest - especially when the "someone" happened to be my fraternal twin.

"Well," he said, pausing to kiss my bare shoulder, "I was often imagining that it was you tied to the bedposts, or bound with ropes suspended from the ceiling, or being restrained by alien tentacles. I would picture you being suddenly exposed as your clothes were ripped off. I would imagine that I was hearing your screams as you were being beaten and whipped, or forced to endure devious sex toys or inhuman appendages."

I considered that for a moment as I placed my hand upon his upon my breast.

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