Closer Than Cousins Ch. 02


When the kiss finally broke, she did not let go of him. She sat back a little on her heels, still holding onto his face.

"See?" she whispered. "Was that so horrible?"

Kit caught his breath. "I … never said … it was. That's the … problem. It's too good. I can't stop thinking about you. Can't stop wanting to be with you. I know it's wrong, but I still want to. It's … Swan, it's driving me crazy."

She didn't say anything. Her hands gently released his face, and her body shifted, moving away from him. He could only see her as the vaguest of shadows, but he could hear the covers rustling as she moved.

"Swan?" he asked.

She still didn't say anything.

"Are you … are you leaving?" He was sure that she must be. He'd finally talked sense into her, gotten her to see that they couldn't go on this way. It would be torture to see her go, but this was how it had to be.

"I think there's only one thing to do, Kit," she said.

"What?" He rolled onto his side, facing her, up on one elbow.

The mattress settled as she moved again. Somehow, unerringly in the darkness, she found his wrist and placed his hand on something warm and smooth and rounded, something with a puckery nub that pressed into his palm.

Her breast. He was touching her breast, cupping it in his hand.

"Swan!" He tried to pull away, but again, she was too strong for him.

"Touch me," she said. "All over. It's all right, Kit. It's what we both want, and it isn't wrong."

As she spoke, her free hand groped under the bedclothes and came to the elastic waistband of his pajama pants. Her fingers traced the jutting fly, then released the button. The cloth sides parted and his cock sprang out, stiffer than ever. Swan took hold of it. Kit's hips bucked helplessly toward her. His hand on her breast closed in a firm but gentle grasp. She arched her back.

Again, lightning flickered, dim and distant now, but enough to show him her face. Her eyes were half-closed and blissful, and for once the thunder did not bring so much as a twinge of fear. She guided his hand so that he could caress her other breast, and made a soft sound of pleasure.

"We really shouldn't," he moaned, almost to himself.

Swan's only reply was to fall slowly over onto her back, and pull him with her. Now he was lying half atop her, and they kissed again, all moist probing tongues. It dispelled any last thoughts of putting an end to this. He still didn't quite agree with her that it wasn't wrong, but he could no longer think of a coherent argument. All that mattered was the feel of her, the taste of her.

He kissed the side of her neck, inching downward, leaving a trail of kisses until at last he could draw one of her nipples into his mouth. Swan sank her fingers into his hair and cooed softly.

As he continued lavishing attention on her breasts, she found his wrist again and moved his hand down her body until his fingertips brushed over the silky strands of her pubic hair. Now Kit froze, some rational part of his mind shouting a warning that this had gone too far already. But the rest of him only wanted to surrender and go along with it.

Swan parted her legs and he settled his hand between them. She twitched her hips up, welcoming his touch. She was warm there, too, deliciously warm and slippery to his slow, probing fingers.

"Oh, Kit," she murmured. "Oh, that's nice."

She let go of his cock, which was just as well because he was on the verge of erupting into her palm. The lower half of her body rose and fell in a languid wave-like motion. He let his first two fingers delve in and out of her, plunging deep then withdrawing almost completely. His thumb circled the nub of her clitoris. Her breath came in quick little gasps. She clawed at the sheet, untucking it in fistfuls.

"Swan, oh, God!" Kit moaned. He kissed her again, then bent his head to her breasts while his hand moved faster, stroking her, rubbing her, fingers slipping through wet clasping heat.

"Ah, oh, oh yes," she cried in a high, breathless voice.

He felt it happen, and her climax nearly triggered his own, just as if it had been his cock buried in her instead of his fingers. She bucked against him. Her thighs clamped together, pinning his wrist. He couldn't have taken his hand away even if he'd wanted to. Again, she quaked and whimpered, but this time fear had nothing to do with it. This time, the storm was sweet as it thundered through her body.

Swan relaxed all at once and sank bonelessly into the mattress. She took long sips of the air, her head lolling side to side. Her sigh was long and drawn out. Her arm floated up like something in a dream and went around his neck, pulling him down to kiss her again.

As he did so, his erection jabbed her hip. He felt her lips curve in a smile.

"Poor Kit," she whispered against his mouth. "We need to take care of that."

"You don't have to –"

"But I want to," she interrupted. "It's only fair. How, though?"

"How what?"

"How do you want me to do it?" she asked. "With my hand, like before? Or with my mouth? I could suck you. That might be nice."

Kit tried not to groan, and failed.

"Or," Swan continued in her blithe, carefree manner, "you could put it in me. I think I'd like that. Wouldn't you like that, Kit? To put it in me?"

"I know I'd like it," he said huskily, as his cock surged with eagerness. "But … Swan … we really –"

"Don't start with all that we-really-shouldn't stuff again," she said. "It's too late for that."

"I mean … what we've done … it's not …" Kit floundered for words.

What they had done? What they had done was wrong, was incest, but it wasn't anything too irrevocable yet, was it? They hadn't actually … well, they hadn't actually fucked. That would really be wrong. Touching like this, third-base kind of stuff, wasn't so bad. Even using their mouths on each other – and the thought of feeling her take him into her mouth, licking and sucking, was enough to make his mind reel with lust – wouldn’t be the worst transgression.

"I want to make you come," Swan said, and just hearing it almost did the trick. "Please, Kit."

He nodded, realized she couldn't see him in the dark, and managed to rasp out, "Okay."

Swan rose into a kneeling position over him. Her thumbs hooked into the waistband of his pajama bottoms. She lowered them, baring him to the cool air, and tossed the garment aside to join her camisole top and panties. Now they were both utterly naked, and as she swayed her long hair trailed like feathers over his stomach, his thighs.

She touched him, ran the tip of her forefinger around the head of his cock and then traced the vein on the underside. Kit clenched his jaw and dug his own fists into the sheet. He thought for a moment that it was all over, that her single caress had pushed him over the edge.

With no warning, the power came back on. The single bedside lamp flickered to life, shedding a pale glow over the rumpled bed. Kit blinked, then saw Swan bent over him with her fawn-colored hair spilling over her small, saucy breasts. Saw her smile, saw the fond twinkle in her eyes.

He saw himself, too, his body stretched out on the bed and his cock standing straight up from the dark brown nest of his pubic hair. He looked enormous, swollen bigger than he'd ever been before, and a dark dusky reddish-purple.

Gripping him in a circle formed of her thumb and forefinger, Swan lowered her head and darted out her tongue. She lapped a pearly drop of fluid from the end of his cock, smiled again, and slicked her lips. They parted. She pressed a wet, lingering kiss on his cockhead.

Kit instinctively thrust up with his hips, bumping at her mouth as if begging entrance. But Swan suddenly sat back and regarded him with her head tilted to the side and a slight grin bringing even more of a twinkle to her eyes.

"I know," she said. "Like this, Kit. We can both do it."

She twisted herself around, long legs flexing with that ballerina grace. One of them swung over Kit's head and came down so that her knees were to either side of his ears. Looking up, in the dim lamplight, he saw the slick, rosy folds of her sex. Opening, offering, poised just inches above his face.

He reached up and grabbed her buttocks and drew her down. His tongue teased along her cleft, tasting the sweet, tangy flavor of her. He found her clitoris again and prodded it with the tip of his tongue, then licked in long hungry strokes.

Swan cried out, her thighs tensing. She stifled herself by dropping her mouth onto his cock, engulfing him to the root in a warm suction unlike anything he'd ever felt before. Better than anything he'd ever felt before.

Kit clung to her, lapping and nibbling, trying to concentrate on what he was doing. It was next to impossible, with her lips gliding up and down his shaft, her tongue slurping at him. But he didn't want it to end yet, not yet, not when it was so good.

What he wanted, though, didn't matter. The coiled urgency at the base of his loins was unbearable. He shoved his cock up into Swan's mouth, thinking incoherently that he should warn her somehow, but she was busily grinding her hips down into his face, rubbing herself all over him so that his chin and cheeks and nose were sopping with her juices. He couldn't extricate himself in time to speak.

His cock convulsed, his balls tightened, and all of his nerve endings seemed to light up. Gouts of creamy fluid pumped from him, splashing into Swan's mouth. She sucked fervently, swallowing in gulps. But the flood was so forceful and copious that she couldn't catch it all, and Kit felt it trickling down into his pubic hair, dribbling over his thighs.

He had lost track of everything else in the intensity of that moment, but as soon as the crisis passed, he became conscious again of the position he was in. Swan, still above him, still presented to his mouth. He applied himself with renewed energy, rolling her clitoris between his lips, burrowing his face up between her legs.

Swan shook all over. His cock, still halfway erect, slid out of her mouth as she tossed her head. Her hair flew. Her hips shimmied. Kit sank his tongue deep when he felt her start to climax, and she had to press her face against his leg to keep from screaming.

For a moment, he thought he might suffocate. Didn't care – what a way to go! Smothered in her lovely flesh, drowning in her honey. But she fell sideways onto the bed, raising her leg as she went to avoid kneeing him. She curled in a fetal position, head resting on his hip, both of them shuddering and gasping for breath.

They sprawled there, sweat slowly cooling their bodies. Kit could hardly move. Could hardly think. Occasional aftershocks fluttered through him.

Swan recovered first, rising in a sinuous motion and turning so that they were side by side, sharing the same pillow. She dragged the covers with her, spreading the sheet and blanket over them both.

She kissed him lightly on the cheek, then more fully on the lips. He mustered the strength to move his arm, draping it around her.

Kit dimly knew that he should send her back to her own room. But speaking seemed like too much of a trial right now. He was too comfortable, too utterly relaxed and at peace to worry about anything else.

His other hand fumbled for the lamp, found the switch, and turned it off. A soft, enveloping darkness descended on them. He pulled Swan close, and his lovely cousin cuddled against him with a sigh, and they drifted off to sleep as the last fading drumrolls of thunder marched away into the night.


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