Confessions of a Slutty Cousin Ch. 03

"Should we, like…?" Jamie began, bewildered, but David shook his head.

"Just hold her. She'll just start coming again, eventually, that's all."

"Really?"

"Probably."

Unfortunately (or maybe not), that caused Jamie to wave Paul back in to start touching me, again. Paul, by then, had started slowly fisting his prick, but he rose to the challenge. I would have screamed, if I hadn't been gagged on cock.

I could feel how swollen my cunt was, thicker with blood than I could have ever imagined it being, before then. Whenever Paul accidentally managed to touch my clit, it felt like it was being burned. Eventually David shifted enough to be able to pinch my hard nipples, again, too.

It was impossible. I couldn't even process all of the sensations that were assaulting me, except a few at a time. I felt like I was completing a circuit, between them all, and electricity was jolting through me madly. I got a reprieve when Jamie came, but only for as long as it took for David to fish a condom out for Paul, at which point he replaced Jamie in my pussy, more frantic and stuttering in his thrusts. Jesse was next, and I tried hard to keep all of his cum in my mouth and swallow it, if only to keep from getting any more of it in my eyelashes, but a little still escaped. He fell back, and then, at least, I could breath almost freely.

Which meant my circulation improved.

Which meant there was even more blood reaching every part of me, which meant I felt it all even more. I keened, I gasped, I let out little weak, sputtering moans. I wished Jacob would come stick his cock in my mouth.

I blinked tears away when I realized that, but there it was. I was sure I could feel another orgasm coming on, even without Paul touching my clit, but it was elusive. It felt like pistons were running through me, pumping back and forth, because Paul and David had fallen into a kind of counter-rhythm with one another, their thrusts coming in turn, and very fast, and every nerve was thrumming. David finally came, but I didn't even know when it had happened, because he kept thrusting and thrusting until he was completely soft, staying in until Paul, too, had come. I was shaking violently, and started to shamelessly reach one hand I couldn't control very well towards my pussy, but David caught it in his own, flattening it back down to the table.

In retrospect, I think that he must have finally been out of breath, because he didn't say anything smart, but I didn't realize it at the time.

Everything wound down. Paul pulled out, wincing and gasping as I reflexively squeezed at him, and when David was the last one left in me, he rolled us both over, and pulled out quickly enough to make it hurt. It still felt like I was full, as I fell onto my back again, but like I was empty, too, my nerves all gone a little mad from the exertion.

"She okay?" Jesse asked, dimly, and David said that I was, and it seemed like everyone left very quickly, after that. Maybe I didn't seem so okay.

"Remember to clean up," David said, and that was all.

I think I'd been staring glassily at the ceiling for several minutes, inching a reluctant hand back towards my pussy, when I finally realized I wasn't alone.

I shuddered, when I felt the tongue come down on my sore, thick pussy, licking slowly up me until it landed on my clit. I didn't even look to see who it was, just whimpered and mumbled, squeezing his head gratefully with my thighs. I lay there, rolling my hips just a little and panting, moaning so very, very softly, for several minutes, until I came again in a slow, rumbling wave. It was all strangely soothing.

If you've lost the tally, that's four orgasms to six family cocks. Not the best rate, I'd say. That was about to change, but I didn't know it at the time.

Strong hands pried my twitching thighs apart, and my unknown savior saved himself from imminent suffocation. In a daze, I let him help me up and pull my skirt back down, my shirt back up. My forgotten drink, now watered down with three melted ice cubes, was pushed into my hands, and I gulped it down desperately as the evidence of the evening was tied off, scooped up, thrown away, wiped off, and blotted. It was only when I'd finished my drink and been guided back blindly to my room that I was able to finally see--or rather, understand what I was seeing--and face the possessor of the healing tongue.

"Jacob!" I said, delighted, falling back onto my bed.

"Is that what you were up to, last night?"

"I was going to tell you," I mumbled. "Someone's put a strange idea 'round 'bout me that I take it from family members. Stuart got me earlier, too. 'Couldn't really get away." I think I sounded like a pouting four-year-old.

"Jesus, Kid..."

"Why'd you leave?" I asked, hurt in that blurry way that's easiest when you're emotionally over-wrought.

"I didn't!" he snapped. "I was there the whole time! Watching you slut around with our cousins," he added, testily.

"But--but you…"

"But I nothing. You weren't exactly fighting them off, you know."

"How the hell—" I started, then "I know," instead. I slipped down to the floor, feeling for some reason that I should be asking his forgiveness—as if the important trespass of the last hour had been something that could be called me cheating on Jacob—my married cousin. I even inched towards him on my knees. I even felt guilty.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't know what to do…" Tears even started to well up in my eyes, again. "Maybe I am a slut. I didn't mean to, Jacob, I'm sorry…"

"'Been a bad girl," he huffed, but the anger had gone out of it. I had a good idea of what had replaced it. A very good idea. I looked up at him, then, and I'm sure my eyes were huge and wet and sweet. He hissed as if stung.

Jacob grabbed me hard, by the arm, and dragged me half up from the floor that way as he sat down on the edge of the bed. Before I could get a hold of myself or figure out what was going on, he'd dropped me across his knee, and had swatted my ass, not too hard, through my skirt. I grunted.

I hadn't been spanked since I was six. At least, not for misbehaving. Somehow, I managed to keep from moaning, but I did grip Jacob's thigh, tightly, to hang on.

Jake spanked me again, and again a little harder, and then paused. I thought he was going to stop, at that, and I sighed my disappointment, but he was only pulling my skirt up and out of his way.

"You're a bad girl," he reminded me, and spanked me hard enough to sting, but only just. The blood was pooling, again, in my pussy and ass. "You've gotten caught at being a dirty little slut, haven't you?" He spanked me again.

"Yes," I whimpered, "I'm sorry. I'm such a bad girl," I agreed, eagerly.

"And I was so nice," he scolded, "didn't even fuck you in the ass when I could have, 'cause I think you're such a good girl. And then I find out you're already doing that with somebody else, anyway. Because?" Swat.

"'Cause I'm a slut, and let three guys fuck me at once," I responded, and was swatted harder for it. "I'm sorry," I added, "please forgive me."

Jacob broke character for a moment to laugh, sounding a little baffled. "God, this is so fucked up," he muttered, and then caught himself, and immediately swatted me again while he cleared his throat. "Keep apologizing," he said, a little louder. "Beg to make it up to me."

"Please, please forgive me." Swat! "Please let me prove I'm sorry." Smack! "Please, do whatever you want, I'll do anything you say to make it up to you!"

That was the magic ticket, apparently.

"I'll bet you will," he said, roughly, and rubbed his palm across my ass, slipping it down until he was brushing over my poor, overworked pussy. I let my thighs slip apart a little, trying to coax his touch, but he only smacked me again, this time catching my pussy in the blow.

"Ow!" I gasped.

"Tell me what you did," he said, a little short of breath, "tell me about last night."

"Do I have to?" I asked, and the force with which he spanked me gave me my answer. "Sorry," I mumbled, after I'd wailed a little, "yes. I--I started to fall asleep at the game, and--and Jamie and David had been trying to get me drunk, I think--"

He spanked me nearly as hard, again. "You shouldn't have let them get you drunk."

"Yes, sir," I said, without even thinking about it, and he rubbed my bottom.

"Go on, then."

"Okay. They--I started to fall asleep, and they started to... started to grab me, rub me, play with me…" I said, and as I did, he brushed his fingers between my legs, trailing them along. They felt strange and rough to my tender skin. I had to brace myself to keep going. "I kind of… pretended to sleep," I admitted, "I was scared, and--"

He pulled away and spanked me again, but not hard. Still, it was enough to silence me. I dug my nails into his thigh.

"Scared and what?" he prompted, when I didn't go on.

"And turned on," I whispered. Another light swat. "I started to—I wanted to—before I could get away," I finally managed, "David--David bent me over the table--"

And here Jacob spanked me hard.

"Bent you over like this?"

"Kind of," I said, wincing, "and then he started fucking me."

And there were Jacob's fingers in me, three of them all at once, pushing in and out. "Then what?" he said, low.

"Then he told me to suck off Paul," I whispered. I almost couldn't speak. "Or--he told me to ask Paul if I could suck him off. So I did."

"Did you swallow?"

"Yes, sir…"

"You are such a slut, girl." He twisted his fingers, inside of me, slowly, so very, very slowly!

"Yes, sir… And then…" I struggled to keep the night in order. It was all so vivid, but there was so much of it… "When David was finally done, he made me blow Jamie, and play with myself."

"Did you come?"

"Not then." All my skin flushed hot.

"Did you swallow Jamie, too?"

"S-some. Mostly he—he came on me."

"I bet you liked that, didn't you?" he growled.

"It was messy," I said, honestly. "But I kinda' did."

I felt his fingers withdraw and braced for the smack that I knew would follow. This one was hard enough that it knocked the wind out of me. I gaped. "So you're a nasty slut, too, aren't you?"

"Yes," I whispered, when I could find the air. And when his fingers slipped back inside of me, I moaned.

"What happened next?" he coaxed.

I scrambled to remember. "I don't… I don't know… No, I…" It fell back into place in my head and I tripped it out in a rush. "They… they wanted me to come, so they put me on the table, and then they got a c-cucumber for me to masturbate with and they made me use it, and Paul jacked off on me while I did it, and then they told me to clean up everything, afterwards."

"After?"

"After I came," I whispered, "from using the cucumber and rubbing my clit and them being mean to me and getting me covered in cum."

I was dripping all over Jacob's fingers. I could feel it. But then his fingers withdrew.

"Get up," he said. "Stand up and take off your skirt and your shirt."

I did it as quickly as I could on my wobbly legs. When I was done, I turned around to look at him, and he was stroking his cock slowly with fingers that glistened from me.

"Bend over," he said.

I bent over the bed, putting my palms on it.

"Wrong," he snapped. "Hands on the floor."

In heels? I closed my eyes and prayed my yoga would come through for me. It mostly did, but it hurt. I could only touch my fingertips down, I didn't have good balance at all.

"You on the pill?" he muttered.

"Yes," I said, squished.

"Good."

And in one motion, he slid himself, hard, into my sore pussy.

He waited just long enough for me to get a good sense of just how deep inside of me he was, and how precarious my position was—I've never felt like something was so deep in my pussy in my life, like it was so full.

When he did begin to move, it was only excruciatingly slowly. At least I was able to keep my balance, that way, but it was horrible and wonderful and I felt so, so vulnerable! It was like all my nerves were buzzing as he moved.

"I've been wanting to do this for a long time," he admitted.

I moaned.

I wouldn't have allowed myself to believe it, if he hadn't said it outright. A lapse in sanity or moral grounding, or just an animal reaction, maybe, but to think he could have been nursing a want like that, like I had… that he could have been battling it down, too, and was finally giving in…

"Have you been—" he thrust harder, here, just once, but spoke quietly, "—wanting me to?"

"Yes," I sighed, "forever."

His fingers curled hard into my hips, and he went still for a moment. I'm not sure if he was relieved, and just needed a moment to enjoy it, or if he was too hot and had to collect himself.

Maybe it was both, like me.

He started moving again, and a little faster, but it was still so deliberate, so measured. I got the image in my head of a steam engine, creeping up and up to something that would eventually crush me in its path.

"I wanted to be the one to teach you all these things," he said, after a minute, his voice rough and low. "Show you how to blow someone, be the first one to fuck you…" His voice was strained, and I couldn't tell if he was wistful about losing that chance, or angry, like he'd been cheated out of me. Maybe it was just a show.

"I wish you had," I purred, trying to appease him, either way. "But you'd've broken me apart. I've never—not with someone as big—"

If that satisfied him, he didn't show it. He slapped my hip, hard, and then tightened his grip on my waist. "I wish I could have ruined you for anybody else but me."

I felt like I'd been hit with ice water, and I shuddered. It sounded so ominous, so hard and cold. "And what?" I gasped, "Make me wait months, years, between reunions? I'd go mad for it…"

He ground into me harder. "It could have kept you from sleeping around with all these assholes. And I'd—I'd have found some way to keep you around. Rent you out the guest room or something. Lock you up in my basement."

Okay, I know as I'm writing it that that probably sounds really creepy. But it wasn't. Or it was, but… in a good way.

My neck got hot, and my face, and all of a sudden I thought I'd be happy to be my cousin's sex slave, locked up in a basement somewhere in the midwest. I could live bent double, almost naked, just waiting for him to unlock the door and come down and fuck me.

Maybe that's what's creepy. But I don't know if I care.

"Oh, Jacob," I moaned, as that hot burning crept up my back, over my hips, all down my legs, and everywhere in between. "Fuck me," I pleaded, superfluously. "Teach me a lesson…"

"Beg," he demanded, anyway (as if he wasn't already doing so, as if he'd stop!), but I did.

"Please, please, please, fuck me harder, break me, please…"

That was enough for his self-control, I guess. He gave up on that gradual torment, and worked up to something harder, something faster, and I felt sweat breaking out all over me. I was rocked onto my fingers with every collision.

"Yes," I hissed, barely able to breathe.

His composure broke down completely. He built up more and more momentum until it was absolutely violent, and only his hands on my hips kept me from being knocked over onto the ground, then. I finally managed to flatten out my hands, but it only helped a little. We were both grunting in rhythm, him pounding deeper and deeper into me, bending over me, gripping at me wildly. I felt one of his hands in my hair, for a moment, pulling it, then one on my tits, instead, kneading and squeezing. He fucked me until I was aching in the deepest parts of me, wailing low and steady.

When he finally came, with a strangled sort of groan, I panted, and tried to catch my breath, while I waited for my knees to stop quaking and for him to pull out and let me down onto the floor or the bed. I didn't want him to go—Christ, I didn't—but I thought he would be done with me. I tried to console myself and the desperate thrumming in my pussy with the thought of finally getting some rest, but it didn't help much.

But, then again, he wasn't pulling out.

With his cock softening in me, I felt him slowly shifting to move me around, to bring me back to where I was facing the bed. "Put your elbows up on the mattress," he said, hoarsely and out of breath. I did, though I had no idea why. I clung to the comforter and tried to feel stable.

"Good girl. Now--now rest down." I did. "Okay…"

Once my weight was mostly on my chest, he pulled my right arm out from under me, stretching it back. His steadiness was back with him, and his firm, composed tone only faltered a little. "Now reach under you—yourself, put this hand between your legs," he said, and I did. "And start playing with yourself. Okay?"

I didn't need to be asked again. "Okay," I whispered, and he swatted my hip hard. Startled as I was (I'd almost forgotten the game, through the haze in my head), I squeezed him, and his cock twitched inside of me. "Oh, God," I whispered, and corrected myself, "yes, sir."

"I want you to…" He paused, to settle down again, and rubbed my hip, slowly. "I want you to rub off until you come. With me in you."

I squeezed him reflexively, and he twitched, again. And gasped. "And keep doing that, too," he managed.

"Yes, sir," I whispered.

I was almost too hot to come, and it all felt surreal, all of a sudden. I was dazed. But whenever I squeezed him, and felt him almost wake, I thought about the way he'd fucked me, the things he'd said… "What will you do to me if I keep being a bad girl?" I asked, in a tiny little voice. "If I keep sleeping around with my family? Tell me," I begged, needing it.

"I'll have to lock you up," he said, darkly, and spanked me. "If I catch you on another dick, I'll just drag you off. Tie you up, beat up the bastard who was fucking you…" He gripped my hips again, so hard I wasn't sure he didn't mean it. "'Cause it'd be—it'd be proof you were ruined. That you aren't learning your lesson. I'll just… I'll have to toss you in the trunk of my car, and you can ride all the way back home with me, that way."

This time, when I squeezed him, I thought he stayed a little swollen, even after I let go.

"I'll take you home and chain you up in the basement," Jacob growled on, then, "because you're only good for fucking. Is that what you want? To be on call for me?" I think he swallowed. I did. Quieter, he demanded, "Tell me you want to."

"I want to," I breathed, "I want you to fuck me all the time. I want to do nothing but get fucked by you, over and over."

"What about the rest of your cousins?" he drilled me, and I felt him stronger, again, growing solid.

"I want to fuck them, too," I whispered, to incite violence, "so you'll get mad and keep teaching me lessons. 'Cause I'm bad."

He swatted me again. "You are. You mean—when I do let you out, on a short leash, to come to these things, you're still—still going to be the family whore?"

I surprised us both, then, by coming, and squealing while I did. "Oh, my God," I said, shuddering. "Oh…"

And by then, he was just hard enough again to thrust. I squeezed him and he gasped, but he thrust again, anyway.

When he pulled out, I thought I was going to cry. I should have been grateful—I was completely frayed—but I wasn't.

"How many times 'you come, tonight?" Jacob asked, with what I could only assume was academic curiosity.

"Don't know," I drooled into the mattress, before even trying to think about it. "Three," I said, when I had.

"How many this weekend?"