A Tale of Two Cousinsbyfantasyhunter2©
Authors Note: This story includes descriptions of both homosexual and heterosexual liaisons between first cousins. If you find either gay male sex or incest objectionable you should try another story.
It was March and I was on top of the world. I was in my second year of college and had finally adjusted to life outside the cocoon of growing up protected and comfortable under the care of my loving parents. Some would say that I was smothered in my childhood. I prefer to look at as being showered in love. How much my closeness to my parents contributed to me being a late bloomer is debatable in my mind. Others seem more convinced that I was babied and over protected. Some even insisted that was the reason that what they called a handsome hunk was still a virgin four months short of his twenty-first birthday. I can't really lay all the blame for my awkward shyness at the feet of my parents.
I knew them and what they tried to get me to be. What dating I did in high school was almost entirely due to their encouragement. My freshmen year at college away from their constant prodding actually resulted in me being less social. I just never felt what I assumed other guys felt. My body had matured normally, but it seemed my libido didn't follow suit. I was eighteen before I discovered masturbation and that was more accident than exploration.
One morning I awoke early, over an hour before my alarm. My cock was so hard that it actually hurt. Looking back I think it was likely that I was in the middle of a wet dream. Because of the discomfort I pushed my pajamas down and began to rub my dick in the hope of relieving the situation. That was how I had my first waking orgasm. Admittedly it was an eye opening experience. I soon was intently repeating the scene on a regular basis. Still I didn't really connect the pleasure I was getting from masturbation to dating girls. Of course I knew all about sex. It was taught at intervals in the schools and my parents were very open and forthcoming about almost everything. My father even explained oral sex and other alternative ways to get and give sexual pleasure. Those conversations were for the most part excruciating for me.
Things began to change during the summer between my first and second years of college. Me and my best friend since kindergarten, Jack went on a 30 day backpacking adventure in Europe. He was also a nerdy late bloomer when we started college that seemed to have started rapidly blooming that freshman year. Though he was still technically a virgin when we set out on our trip, he had many sexual experiences to regal me with. He went into great detail about the different techniques employed by the three chicks that had sucked his cock that year. His description of eating pussy made it seem like the nectar of the gods flowed from between a girl's legs. A guy would have to have been dead not to be aroused by his tales.
For the first week of the trip I managed to find private places to jerk off to relieve the need his stories created. However, one night we needed up sharing a very small room. It was only slightly larger than my closet at home. The bathroom was shared dormitory style and offered no privacy at all. The town we were in was a beach town in southern France. My friend went into great detail discussing what he would like to have done with the nearly naked girls we saw sun bathing that day. The more he talked the more images of the first bare tits I had ever seen live came vividly back to me. My cock grew hard and began to demand attention as he went on and on about sucking their tits and ripping off their skimpy bottoms to lick their pussies. I decided that the only hope was to wait until he was asleep and then jerk off in the dark. But he didn't seem like he was ever going to stop fantasizing out loud about hot French babes. At some point I looked over his way and saw that he was rubbing his own hard cock threw his underwear.
"I hope this doesn't bother you, man. All those bare tits got me going. We can't fucking use the bathroom, it is like grand fucking central in there."
"Um er, I guess not. I was trying to figure what to do about it myself."
"Shit, we've been friends too long to be shy," He said and pushed his underwear down.
Suddenly I was staring at the only hard cock other than my own I had ever seen. He looked over at me as he started stroking.
"Well, aren't you going to beat it?"
I felt like I really didn't have much choice and there was nothing to lose anyway. He couldn't say anything since he had started the action. I pushed the gym shorts I was wearing down and began to pump my throbbing cock. Since he continued looking my way, I didn't bother to avert my gaze away from his cock. As we jerked off in our separated beds we chatted nervously about the girls on the beach and how much we wanted to fuck them. Soon both of us had little puddle of cum on our bellies. He wiped off on his sheets and I followed his lead. Then he got up and turned off the light. We went to slept in the nude without any discussion of what we had done.
The next day we took a train to Italy. The long ride gave me a lot of time to think. I thought of what we had talked about and the girls on the beach and his hard cock. The thing was even though I had talked about the girls and their tits and pussies and wanting to fuck them so badly, I didn't truly feel that desire deep down. I liked jerking off, but I still couldn't translate that into wanting to bring another person into the equation. It seemed simpler to just masturbate. Jerking off with my friend added a new wrinkle that I wasn't sure how to interpret. A few days later we found ourselves in another situation that offered no privacy. Jack just came right out and asked me if I was in the mood. The next thing I knew we were naked and laying in our side-by-side beds jerking off. Neither of us attempted to hide that we were watching each other. But what ever thoughts we had that night we kept to ourselves.
I assume that we would have continued jacking off together if not for a momentous occurrence. Jack lost his virginity to a very mature Italian woman he met on the train from Naples to Venice. I spent our two days in Venice sightseeing alone while he fucked his temporary Italian mistress day and night. Though he never admitted to knowing her real age I was certain that she was at least forty maybe more. The idea of fucking a woman not much younger than my mother creeped me out a bit. We spent our last week in Greece and I avoided discussing sex with Jack. Fortunately all of our accommodations that week offered private bathrooms.
Jack and I have never spoken since about those two nights. But I thought about them a lot. I also thought a lot about the European women we met and ogled as well as Jack's Venetian lover. Those thoughts led me to consider the idea that fucking might be more pleasurable than jerking off. I dated some more that fall and even managed to both get my first blow job and my first taste of pussy. The girl was not very enthusiastic about cock sucking. She seemed to treat it like a chore she was obligated to do after a few dates. In addition, her pussy definitely did not ooze sweet nectar as Jack had led me to believe. It was a pleasant enough experience and we repeated it a couple of times before we mutually agreed our relationship wasn't meant to be.
That is one reason I was still a virgin on the most fateful day of my life. The other was that despite taking the next step on the journey of sexual discovery I wasn't really sure what I desired. My shy awkwardness had vanished. I had no trouble talking to girls or making dates. I was pretty sure that if I really wanted to I could get a girl to sleep with me. But that was the rub. I just didn't seem to want it bad enough to make it happen. At the same time I didn't really want anything else either. Some might say I was confused, but the fact was I really just thought jerking off was easier than going through the whole dating ritual to get an orgasm when they we were easy enough to come by on my own. The only thing that troubled me at all that spring was the occasional thought of Jack stroking his cock next to me while I jerked off. I didn't really know what to make of that.
In the end none of that much mattered because my world came crashing down on March 18th. I am still not sure how I survived the phone call from my Uncle Frank and the days that followed. My parents had been in a freak car accident. They were in the hospital and my aunt was on her way to get me. By the time I got home, my father had died and my mother was in a deep coma. I said goodbye to her silent sleeping body as they removed her respirator two days later. Shock had already set in and I was in a kind of waking coma.
I don't remember actually signing the paper that appointed Uncle Frank my representative and gave him power of attorney to settle all of my parent's affairs. I never returned to school. Someone else went to pack up my dorm room and handle the paper work to have me withdrawn. After the funeral, my mother's sister, Aunt Cecelia took me home to her farm halfway across the country. Uncle Frank, my father's brother liquidated my parent's property and established a trust fund that would support me for life over the next few weeks. Only a few very personal things were kept for me. Those were stored away until I was able to handle memories. I didn't know any of this was happening for almost six months. It didn't occur to me to ask and no one thought I was of a mind to make decisions. They had been my world and they were gone was all I knew.
Aunt Cecelia and her husband, James were good people that owned a small farm in a very rural area. They had an eighteen year old daughter, Mary and a son, Roger about a year older than me. They were happy and comfortable but they did not have anywhere near the financial means of my parents. Their farmhouse was small and there wasn't really any extra room for me. But everyone thought I was better off being away from where I grew up and all my other relatives lived in that area. Uncle Jim had worked hard while his wife was away to fashion a private space for me. He had taken an alcove off the living room that had been Aunt Cecelia's sewing area and curtained it off. He even changed the paint and wall decorations so that it looked manlier. I am not sure if I made a face when I saw where I would be living but he quickly reacted to what he thought was my disappointment.
"Don't worry, Bill, I plan to get a wall and door built soon. There just wasn't enough time since your...oh well just don't worry," He said stumbling over his words.
"It is fine, Uncle Jim. Please don't go to any more trouble over me," I said hoping I hadn't insulted him.
That was when Roger piped in.
"This is silly. Billy and I have been sharing a room on visits since we was born. We can still share. That is if you don't mind, Billy. I think my room is big enough to get another bed into it," He said hopefully.
"That sounds good," I replied in the flat tone that had become my standard way of speaking.
"Come on, let's take your stuff up. We can haul the bed up later."
We each grabbed a suitcase and I followed him up the stairs. His room was adequate, but seemed much smaller than I remembered. As I stood there thinking about squeezing another bed into the room, I remembered that I was much smaller the last time that I was there and so was his bed. Our last two visits had been at my house. Since it had been three years since our back and forth visits came to and end, I figured I hadn't been in that room since I was about thirteen. He had also traded in his twin beds for what looked to be an extra long queen bed. Considering he had grown to several inches over six feet the larger bed was probably a must.
"Rog, I appreciate you offering to share your room, but if you put another bed in here you won't be able to turn around. I will be fine downstairs."
"Bull, you don't need to be sleeping in the damn living room. Hey, I got an idea. This bed is plenty wide enough for two. We used to share a double at that beach place your parents had. It will be like the old days on vacation."
The mention of my parents and the beach caused me to burst into tears. It was the first time I had cried over losing them.
"Oh shit, I am sorry, I am ass for mentioning that," He said as he gathered me into his arms.
I pressed my face into his shoulder and sobbed. He held me and let me cry for about a half hour.
"Thank you, I think I needed that," I said without lifting my face from his shoulder. "Sharing a bed is cool, if you really don't mind. It is probably better if I don't sleep alone downstairs. Fuck it hurts Roger."
"I can't even imagine, Billy. But you can count on my shoulder being here anytime you need it."
"And mine too baby," Aunt Cecelia said. "I know it hurts but I promise it will get better."
I looked up from Roger's shoulder and saw my red-eyed aunt standing in the doorway. I wasn't really sure what embarrassed me more: saying fuck in front of her or her seeing me in the arms of her grown son balling like a baby. She didn't mention either one.
"So you two all set to bunk together?" She asked as if she hadn't heard our conversation.
"Yes, ma'am," Roger said. "We thought we could make due with just the one big bed though. No reason to drag that old one up here."
"Probably best, you two would hardly fit if we added another piece of furniture."
It was soon dinner time. I asked to be excused from sitting at the table that evening. I wasn't hungry and the thought of a family dinner was just too much for me. After they finished dinner, I watched TV with Roger and Mary for a couple of hours. Since days on the farm start early, bedtime comes early too. Sleep was the one activity I looked forward to those first few days after my parents died. It was the only time when I managed to stop thinking about what I had lost. For some odd reason the sad thoughts did not invade my dreams.
When we got up to Rogers room, I realized that there was a small issue with the bed sharing arrangement. When we were kids at the beach sharing a bed, I still wore pajamas to bed. But I hadn't owned a pair since I was a junior in high school. More often that not I slept in the nude at home. In the dorm, I wore either underwear or gym shorts to bed. My gym shorts were still at school waiting to be packed up along with the rest of my old life. I wasn't sure how comfortable it was going to be sharing a bed with a Roger while wearing only underwear. As I watched him unbuttoning his shirt, I knew I had to bring the subject up.
"Um, Rog, there is something I hadn't thought about."
"Well, when we were kids sharing a bed, I still wore pajamas."
"Yeah, what's the issue?"
"I don't own any pajamas anymore."
"Oh, what do you sleep in?"
"Um, well, underwear or nothing."
"That's cool, I only wear pajamas when it is cold myself and it sure isn't cold this time of year. I think we will survive being in the same bed in our skivvies."
I laughed at his choice of words. But still I felt funny about the whole thing. At that time I was mostly wearing briefs and that day for some reason I had on the briefest pair I owned. Since he said skivvies I figured him for a boxer kind of guy.
"So you usually just sleep in your underwear?" I asked as I pulled my shirt over my head and he began to unzip his jeans.
"Some, but lately, like you I have been going all natural at night."
"Really? I always wondered if liking to sleep naked was weird or something."
"If so we are both weird, cuz."
For some reason I couldn't take my eyes off Roger. I felt anxious as I anticipated the lowering of his jeans. Neither of us was ever shy, so over the years we had undressed in front of each other regularly. I don't think I had ever given the idea of seeing him naked a single thought before that evening. But it seemed that the years since our last sleepover had changed my thinking. When he dropped his jeans I saw that he was wearing old fashioned tighty-whities. I also couldn't help but notice that he seemed to be rather more endowed than the last time I saw him naked. His cock really filled out the pouch of his briefs. Even though I still felt a bit of trepidation about my skimpy underwear, I had to get on with my own undressing. I was painfully aware of how odd it would be for me to stand there staring at my cousin with my pants still on.
"Damn, you city boys go for the fancy undies!" He exclaimed when I stepped out of my pants.
"These aren't my usual everyday underwear. I bought them when I was dating this girl that thought it would be fun to do a strip show for each other."
"Damn, Billy, you been getting your knob polished and not telling me?"
"If you mean did I get laid, no, I am still technically a virgin. All we did was oral a few times."
"Well that is a hell of a lot more than I have done. The pick-ins are pretty slim around here. Most I ever got was a hand job and I dated that girl over a year before she would do that. Damn I have never even seen a pussy. She let me play with her titties but said below the waist was off limits. I think she thought if I got her pants off I wouldn't stop."
"Yeah, well, I am not sure having a chick that will get naked with you but not let you do it isn't worse."
"Maybe, but I would like to find out. So we gonna keep our balls smashed all night or are we gonna get over that queer bull shit and just let it all hang out?"
"Fuck it, we are family, no reason to be all weird about a little more skin."
He casually slipped off his briefs and tossed them in the hamper. When I pulled mine off, neither of us made much of a secret that we were checking each other out. We didn't talk any more that night. Even though it was clear we both had taken notice of the changes in our bodies since our last time in bed together, the subject wasn't broached. We simply crawled into our respective sides of the bed and turned our backs to each other. I soon heard the telltale change in his breathing indicating that he was asleep. I am not sure how long I remained awake listening to his soft snoring before I drifted off. I remember feeling very comforted having the warmth of his body so near by. It was almost as if he was there to protect me from some unknown danger that lurked near by.
At some point in the night I awoke briefly. I suppose it was the unusual sensation I felt that invaded my slumber. Roger and I had obviously shifted around in the bed. While we were still back to back, the space between us was gone. His ass was pressed against mine and his arm was hanging down between us so that his fingers were touching my back. My first thought was to nudge him away, but I liked the way his warm bear flesh felt where it touched my skin. Again I felt comforted and so I chose to just enjoy the sensation. Oddly, I gave no thought to any sexual implications that arose from the idea of enjoying such intimate touch.
When I awoke the next morning, Roger was standing across the room wearing a towel. His wet hair told me that he had been up early and was already showered.
"Good morning, sleepy head," He said cheerfully when he noticed that my eyes were open. "Billy, it isn't required or anything, but if you are going to help with chores you need to get a move on."
My preference was to help with whatever to keep busy. Idle time would just mean more time to dwell on my loss. But I had a little problem. As I did almost every morning, I had awoken with an erection. Normally my dick simply deflated in a minute. However, that morning, my cock was much harder than usual and no matter how hard I tried not to think about my condition it just seemed to get bigger. I couldn't imagine simply tossing aside the sheet and letting Roger see my erection. I pulled the sheet tighter around my body hoping I had my hard cock completely hidden.