All You Need is Family

Christmas Eve; a day that often requires heavy preparation and a lot of running, especially when you're the one hosting the traditional grandiloquent dinner and subsequent exchange of gifts.

It was exciting, considering it would be the first time I'd have my family over at my new home (well, essentially, the two upper floors of my parents' house remodeled into an independent apartment, with my mom keeping the ground floor, and basement, to herself), but I was also exhausted and full of angst. Everything had to be right; it's a lot of pressure. Of course, having a kid galloping around, excitedly waiting for his gifts, and constantly hollering and bawling does not make things easier.

Thankfully, my mom would help with the cooking, ensuring that the dinner would taste like it always did; it did not remove the great number of responsibilities weighing me down and the myriad of things I had to do. What made things worse, however, was my son's insistence that his dad should also join us.

Since we broke up a couple of years ago, we've managed to maintain a functioning, friendly relationship but I was afraid that the (sexual) dryness of the pandemic period would somehow drive me back into his arms; or, at the very least, onto his shaft, to satisfy certain bodily needs that ravaged me.

Besides, being almost forty and with a hyperactive six-year-old does not make things easy in terms of going out to meet new men and it can be a dealbreaker when it comes down to something more than a fling. My ex's presence at the family dinner was just an additional worry that caused my head to whirl and spin. On Christmas Eve morning, I was exhausted; my kid had kept me up all night by waking me up every hour or so to ask if it was morning yet and if we should get up, only for me to tell him to go back to bed. He could fall asleep in between leaping out of bed to ask me if it was morning yet; I couldn't, so I spent the night twisting and turning.

When you have a boatload of things to do, time has the awful tendency to fly by. By the time my uncle, aunt, and cousin arrived, I was still in my sweatpants and t-shirt, trotting about as I tried to finish up all the necessary preparations. On the other hand, with my mom, uncle, and aunt in the house, there were enough people to watch over my son, giving me time to wrap things up and, finally, get dressed.

I don't know why but I felt all hot around my cousin; he's about ten years younger than me and, while I knew the thoughts that suddenly swirled in my head were completely and utterly wrong, my knees grew weak around him. Perhaps, the sudden heat emanating from the depths of my psyche was engendered by the long, dry period of the pandemic, perhaps even by the subconscious fear that I'd return to my ex out of despair.

There was also something terrifyingly exciting about the immoral thoughts filling my head up; pursuing something could procure unexpected and awfully awkward results. On the other hand, the wrongness of it could make things more intense than ever before and it almost drove me to start rubbing myself while I moved around the kitchen preparing some bowls of nuts and slicing up cucumbers and carrots.

I served the various fingerfood I'd prepared and decided to go downstairs to get dressed. Biting and licking my lips, I glanced at my cousin sitting on the couch, nipping on his wine while his parents kept my son occupied.

"Carl, do you mind coming downstairs with me? Need your help for something," I told him in a whisper and fought against the urge to grab his hand to lead him downstairs. With a shrug, he followed me. As I led the way, I made sure to wobble my ass, secretly hoping he was ogling. It took perhaps two minutes to reach my bedroom and the walk-in closet but countless thoughts crossed my racing, spinning brain; was I really gonna go through with it? What on earth would I say or do? As we both got into the closet, it dawned upon me that there really was no return.

I'd either have to find a completely dumb excuse as to why I dragged him into my walk-in closet or do what I had to to quench the fire burning up my loins. I closed the door to my bedroom and the closet door, essentially trapping us into the fairly small room filled with clothes.

"So," he cleared his throat and scratched his head, staring at me with a film of confusion in his eyes, "what do you need?"

It was the moment of truth; I almost fired some insipid excuse just to prevent myself from going through with my primal urges. I grabbed him by the crotch and dragged him towards me. Now, there was no return; que sera, sera, as the song goes, and I gave his prick a hard rub over his jeans, staring deep into his eyes while holding my lips just an inch away from his.

I bit the corner of my lips into a smirk when I felt him grow hard and half-opened my mouth as a film of both excitement and befuddlement glistened in his hazel eyes.

For some mysterious reason, I did not kiss him; nor did he kiss me. Perhaps, deep down, it felt wrong kissing each other—despite the fact I was rubbing his now-engorged dong that suffocated in the tight confines of his jeans.

I unbuttoned his fly and went down on my knees, kissing the bulge of his jeans while staring up into his eyes. A soft giggle escaped my lips when I yanked his pants and boxers down around his ankles and his cock jumped and slapped me on the jaw. I gave the shaft a lick, starting from the base and going up to the tip, then pulled the foreskin down and twirled my tongue around the gleaming, purple mushroom head.

He leaned back and let out a soft grunt, which made my lips tug up into a broader smile. Anxious to get what I needed—and aware of the strict time constraints—I spat on my palm and stroked him gently while I got back up and dropped my sweatpants down just enough to reveal my nether parts.

His arms hung limply next to his stiff body, not even hiding his surprise about what was going on nor his being clueless as to what to do next. With my hand still clenched around his shaft, I was in full control. Not necessarily used to the feeling, I actually enjoyed it.

I pushed him against the wall and placed his cock between my thighs; the topside of his prick ground against my moist nether lips as I moved back and forth, using my thighs to fuck his dong. While staring deep into my eyes, he finally mustered up the courage to bring his hands around my waist.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pressing him tighter against my body, as he swayed his hips, his prick gliding against my inner thighs. "Please, fuck me," I whispered in his ear and sucked on his earlobe. "I need you inside me, now," I added and he quickly obliged.

My eyes bulged out and soft gasps escaped my half-parted, moist lips when he guided his prick inside me, the thick mushroom head peeling my outer labia open as he softly and gently drove his dong inside of me. I dug my nails on his thick sweater and bit his shoulder blade—tasting the woolen fabric that tasted of tobacco and booze—as he swayed his hips, every thrust causing my body to jounce slightly.

It felt superlative; it was far better than almost any sexual encounter I'd ever had, despite it being so mellow and soft and...perhaps, it was the blood relation that made it so hot and quickly had me contracting my stomach as he dug his fingers deeper into my skin and swung his hips with more power and velocity.

Just the knowledge that it was my cousin, whom I've essentially known all my life, slamming me begot powerful waves of euphoria that disembogued from my loins across my body, settling on my head and causing my grunts and moans to turn deeper and louder.

With an abrupt move, he picked me up and spun around on his heels, pushing my back against the wall. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his shoulders, once again digging my teeth into his sweater as he bounced me on his dong faster, letting out deep, heavy grunts while his balls smacked loudly against my moist pussy.

I did not have the frame of mind to think about our sounds being heard by the rest of the family; at that moment, I did not care about anything but hanging onto my cousin as he swayed his hips, drilling me with longer, harder thrusts. I tightened my hold around his body and clenched my inner muscles when he buried his center deep in me, pulling my body down on his prick.

His member throbbed, the mushroom head expanding and stretching my inner muscles, and while he unleashed a torrent of cum deep inside me, I pulled my head back just to stare into his eyes. A mere inch separated our lips as his cock went flaccid and slipped out of me; for a few moments, we just stood there—well, he stood while holding me in the air—staring into each other's eyes, with our lips half-parted and our heavy breathing landing on each other's skin.

I clenched my fists around his sweater, still debating whether I should break the one limit I had imposed upon myself, namely not to kiss him; time had stood still while we remained locked in a tight embrace but we had to go back upstairs to the living room. I couldn't tell just how much time had elapsed but, soon enough, our absence would be noticed.

I brushed my lips against his—it was just a momentary, brief, fleeting touch—and he put me back on my feet. While he fixed his disheveled long hair, I stripped naked and put on my knee-high black dress, offering him a smirk when I caught his gaze riveted on me.

With my ear thundering behind my ear, wondering how this quick escapade—that did wonders to settle my burning loins but only begot more turmoil in my brain and worsened my exhaustion—would affect our relationship, I led him out of the walk-in closet and my room.

One great benefit of having a young kid at home is that it tends to draw all the attention of its grandparents and great uncles and aunts. In short, no one in the family appeared to have noticed we were gone; who knows, maybe we weren't gone for that long. At any rate, no one commented on why I needed my cousin with me while I changed clothes and there were no weird glares to betray that someone had noticed/suspected anything.

It looked like we were on the clear, as far as creating an awkward environment for the Christmas dinner was concerned, and I went back to finalizing my part of the dinner while my cousin headed downstairs to my mom's apartment to help with the cooking.

The rest of the evening went on normally. My ex arrived, we all sat down to have our traditional dinner, and then exchanged gifts. Part of our tradition is trading some gag gifts, meant exclusively as jokes; so, when my cousin's gag gift turned out to be one of those tiny g-strings one can buy for almost nothing, accompanied by a humorous card, I shouldn't have seen in it anything more than what it was intended to be: a joke meant to elicit laughs. However, it took a different meaning in my head due to what had happened earlier.

I don't think I blushed or anything, but I did trade a rather meaningful glance with him while the rest of the family laughed before moving on to continuing with the gift exchange.

After we were done with the gift exchange, my brother, his wife, and their two kids left. My son hurried to his room to play with all the new toys he got and my mom, uncle, and aunt went downstairs to my mom's apartment to have a glass of wine. My cousin stayed with me; the air suddenly turned dense, almost oxygenless, it had become a sturdy wall that closed in on us, squeezing us into pulps.

As we both sipped on some wine—I had red, he white—we delved into various conversations topics, as general and neutral as possible; no mention whatsoever to what had happened earlier in my walk-in closet and we also steered clear of even indirectly mentioning our love lives, or lack thereof.

No matter how hot what had happened was, I physically couldn't instigate it again, nor could I bring myself up to speaking about it. I was still trying to assess the situation, to determine whether it had caused a rift between us, if it was something that not only would we never discuss but something that would completely freeze our relationship.

Fate sometimes works for us, sometimes it works against us...all I know is that things tend to happen that force us to deal head-on with what troubles us, whether we want to or not. In my case, fate worked through my son, who was elated about the prospect of spending the night with his grandmother and his great uncle and aunt. Some whining and yammering about it and the late hour convinced them to spend the night at my mom's apartment.

Consequently, my cousin would spend the night at my apartment. After we bid everyone else good night, I locked the front door of my apartment and put the chain on, making sure no one could come in without my consent—if they asked why I did it, I would just say I did it out of habit and none would be the wiser about my true intentions.

I went back upstairs, almost hoping that he would wait for me naked and ready; he wasn't. He remained seated on the couch, puffing on a cigarette and nipping on his wine. On the one hand, I was happy about it (mostly because my cousin was not some sex-crazed perv), and on the other hand, I was disappointed (more or less for the same reason). I joined him and we once more drifted into a simple, dull discussion that stayed miles away from any subject that could even remotely be connected with our earlier escapade.

Whenever our gazes met, I bit the corner of my lips and tucked my hair behind my ears, crossing my legs tighter when he smiled and his eyes glistened. Perhaps, he was reluctant to pursue anything because of our familial relationship; in essence, holding back for the same reason I did.

With a deep breath, I stuffed a few things into a couple of bags and took them downstairs, using the excuse of wanting to clean the place up a little to sequester myself and...well, I decided to use a more direct approach to show him I needed our escapade to repeat.

I went to the bathroom and stripped down. Thankfully, my pair of red stiletto heels were under the sink (I am a bit of a slob, yes) and I fished the g-string he got me as a gag gift out of the bag. Dressed in just those two items, I fixed my hair and tossed myself a wink via the mirror. I looked good; working out and doing yoga and pilates had paid off, as I'd regained my skinny, and fit, figure of my early twenties. After a deep breath, I exited the bathroom and staggered up the stairs, holding on to the rails as the stiletto heels, to which I wasn't that accustomed, made walking quite fucking hard.

A gentle giggle escaped my lips when he gawked at me, his mouth agape. Tucking my hair behind my ears, I threw myself next to him and crossed my legs high, rubbing the top side of my foot against his calf. This time, he reacted quicker, putting his hands around my waist and pulling me close to him.

I shut my eyes and tossed my head back when he started planting kisses all over my chest, teasing my nipples with his tongue while he ran his soft, smooth hands up and down my back, making my skin shiver. I helped him out of his sweater and t-shirt and right afterward he dug back into my small, perky tits, flickering his tongue around my erect nipples while he rubbed and explored my back with his hands.

He didn't have a chiseled physique or extraordinarily shaped abs or humongous arm muscles but I did not give a damn; I ran my fingernails across his back as he licked and sucked on my nipples and moved his hands down to my lower back, toying with the string of the panties.

I climbed on his lap and he immediately cupped my ass, rubbing my cheeks while I ground my already moist cunt against the bulge of his pants. I put my hands on the back of his head, my fingers tangling with his long, wavy hair, and kept him trapped on my chest, his warm, wet lips continually planting kisses on my shivering skin.

This time, we had all the time in the world, there was no need to worry about being gone for too long or anything, and yet, I craved the penetration even more than I had earlier. I unbuttoned his fly and liberated his engorged organ from the tight prison of his pants, rubbing it against my soaked cunt—over the cheap panties he'd bought for me—and I bit my lips down when he dug his teeth into my nipple, shooting jolts of pleasure across my arched spine.

With a swift, sudden move, he rolled me on my back and the moment I spread my legs wide, he crawled between them, planting kisses on the back of my knees before working his way up to my snatch by exploring every inch of my thighs with his lips and hands.

I arched my back higher and buried my fingers in his hair once he planted the first kiss on my slit, over my panties. Then, he pulled them aside and ran his meaty tongue across my outer labia, sending stronger waves of pleasure across my body, almost impelling me to dig my nails into his scalp.

His lips peeled my nether lips open and a gentle gasp left my mouth when his tongue slithered inside me; he rubbed my clit while he flapped his tongue inside me, causing me to quiver. I pressed my thighs together, trapping him between my legs, scratching and caressing the back of his head while he flapped and swirled his tongue faster, giving my clit a hard rub that had me contract my stomach.

Feeling the spasms of my body, he simply increased his pace, eating me out and rubbing me until I lifted my butt from the cushion and arched my back. He glided his hands up my stomach and cupped my breasts, gently squeezing them as he slithered upwards, kissing my flat stomach, and twirling his tongue in my belly button, before bringing his face right in front of mine—again, just a mere inch separated our lips, we were just one inch away from breaking the one limit I still somewhat wished to maintain.

Maybe, he sensed my reluctance to kiss; perhaps, he felt the same way. Whichever the case, we rubbed our noses but our lips did not touch; we both panted heavily on each other's face and I sank my teeth in my lower lip when he drove his cock inside me.

He laid me down on the couch and mounted me, beginning to slam me harder and harder while our lips remained separated by just an inch. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer and deeper in me, and moved my hands on his back, once more scratching his skin as he rammed me faster, his thrusts causing the couch to move and my body to bounce.

"Fuck me harder," I whispered, tugging my lips up into a smile. His eyes glistened and he pulled out of me, momentarily making me think I said something wrong. When, however, he rolled me on my stomach and spanked my ass, instructing me to "get on all fours," I bit the corner of my lips and did as was told.

I wriggled my ass and turned my head around to look into his eyes as he positioned himself behind me. Grunts and moans escaped my lips once he jammed his prick back inside me and put his hands around my waist. I dug my nails in the couch's cushion as he slammed me hard, his balls loudly slapping against my soaked cunt.

I lowered my head down on the cushion and slipped my hand down to my clit, rubbing myself fast and hard while he pummeled me, his thrusts bouncing my body and pushing cries of pleasure out of my mouth. Quickly, I bit my forearm, afraid of the rest of the family hearing me.

He jerked my hair and forced my back to arch hollow, once more bringing my face inches away from his; I stared dead into his effulgent eyes and tossed my arms around his shoulders as I sat straighter up, his thrusts causing my body to jounce up and down.

Our lips almost touched but we both remained highly reluctant to tear that final barrier down. He cupped my breasts, squeezing them tight as he rammed me hard, and I rubbed my throbbing clit, quickly losing myself in the phantasmagoria of fireworks that went off in my head.