Cousins Long Lost

Her hands flew to my face and held on to me, her lips pressed against mine but we weren't kissing. I wrapped my arms around her and held her tightly, my hand cupping the back of her head and the other gripping her shoulders.

Both of our bodies were flexed, every muscle locked and contracted. She squeezed her legs around me and held me so tight I thought she was going to crack several ribs. Somewhere in the back of my mind I remembered that she rode horses.

I started to find it difficult to breathe, and tried to manually make my body relax a little. Hopefully she would match my body and loosen her grip as well. She did, and I managed to lean back from her far enough to see all of her face in my vision.

That's when the guilt hit. It was unlike anything I could have ever expected, anything that I could have imagined.

What am I doing?! my mind screamed at me. My cock was lodged happily inside of her pussy, being squeezed with such force that I couldn't move, loved by a woman who had craved me - and this - for years.

I looked between us and saw the flesh of her breasts pressed up against my chest, felt her body underneath and around me. My heart was screaming in my head, telling me not to ruin the moment, ruin this for all time. This was going to be the only time -

There never should have been a time! a voice scolded inside my head.

My mind was a whirlwind of arguments, of debate. Yes, no, how could you, how could I, what were you thinking, I know what you were thinking, that's not true, I love her, I've always loved her, I will always love her...

It was surreal, the sense of awareness, and how sudden it struck me. Here I was, naked, with my rock hard penis buried deep inside of... my cousin. My mother's niece. My aunt's daughter.

And yet, her body welcomed me easier than any other woman before or since, fit me more perfectly than anyone ever had or would afterwards. Even at the time, I knew it. I knew she and I were made for each other. And as I felt every curve of her pussy grab me and coax me, I knew it was true in a very real and physical way.

My face must have registered my guilt, however, as her eyes began to search mine frantically.

"What's wrong?" she asked. There was a noticeable tone of rising panic in her voice.

"I wish," I began, but didn't know how to continue. I wished for so many things.

She nodded, prodding me to continue.

"I wish we had more time," I said, truthfully. "I know this will be our only night together, but I don't want it to be."

She kissed me, her features softening. "No matter what," she said, soothing me. "I will always love you."

In that moment she was no longer an 18-year-old virgin. She was older, wiser beyond her years. An "old soul."

She wrapped her legs tighter against me, drawing me in even further into her body. Naturally, my body responded, and my cock started begging me for release. Unwillingly, as I wanted it to last much much longer, I found myself unable to resist her tight pussy.

My hips began to move on their own, as if I had no choice in the matter. In some ways, I didn't, as she started bucking her hips up against mine which moved my cock deeper and tighter inside her pussy.

"No," I said. "If you do that..."

She got a playful look again. "What," she said, smiling.

"If you do that..." I couldn't breathe.

She grabbed my ass with both hands and wrapped her legs even tighter in that grip that convinced me she was going to break my ribs.

"I'm going to..."

Again, I couldn't breathe.

Her hands shot to my sides - my ticklish sides - and she grabbed me in her evil tickling ways. I bucked forward and back against her trying to get away from her tickling but only managed to succeed in fucking her past my stopping point.

My body writhed and tensed as she tickled me, my cock spraying her insides like a busted hose, my orgasm mixed with the torturous tickling that she was giving me past the point of hypersensitivity.

I lay on top of her, spent, and became concerned that I was too heavy for her. She hadn't moved, her arms and legs wrapped around me in a tight embrace and not letting me go. I kissed her again, and brushed her hair away from her eyes.

She smiled at me, and I thought I could hear my heart break in two.

As we lay like that, I could feel my cock soften a little, but her warmth and wetness prevented me from growing completely limp. She squeezed me from time to time, her ass muscles clenching underneath me. We whispered together, telling each other all the things that we already knew, all the things that were obvious about our situation.

"I can't believe we are doing this," she said.

I smiled. "Me neither," I whispered back.

She was stroking my back with her fingertips, light brushes that walked the fine line between tickling and being sensual. At the moments they started to tickle I reflexively arched my back which had the consequence of pushing my cock inside farther. Soon I was fully hard again.

"Aren't you tired?" she gasped.

I shook my head. "I want to make love to you again," I said.

"Yes, please!"

This time I moved inside her body with more rhythm and less chaos. The emotional and physical sensations weren't nearly as overwhelming, I pushed aside the maelstrom of guilt, determined to deal with that later, and focus on capturing the moment in my mental recorder. If this was going to be our moment, the one moment in our entire lives, I was sure as hell going to make every second count.

Her little sexy body came up to meet me as I thrust, the two of us in perfect symmetry. She rocked her hips up to meet my thrusts, her body oscillating in a sexual cadence against my body and around my cock. Her hands clutched at my back and shoulders as I hit spots inside her body she didn't know existed up until that point, and she made little whimpering noises next to my ear.

She grabbed my ass with her hands, holding me deep inside of her. I felt her pussy grip the base of my cock like a suckling mouth, grabbing and pulling and sucking me for all she was worth. I don't know if she even knew she was doing it, whether it was on purpose or not.

I knew she was close, knew she was going to have an orgasm soon. I worried about how much noise she could make, worried that her tightness would work its magic on me before my cock could work its on her.

She latched her mouth onto mine and breathed heavily through her nose. Her whimpering resonated in my ear and turned me on past the tipping point. My cock started lurching inside her as my come raced forward from my body into hers.

She stopped breathing the moment she felt my hot liquid enter her body. Her eyes flew open and all I could see was the wild whites in the throes of her first orgasm through intercourse.

Leaning her head back a little, she looked like she was gasping for air but wasn't breathing. She was trying to keep her scream from leaving her throat, but the tension was prolonging her climax at the same time. I held onto her shoulders and kept her as close as I could.

When she started coming down from her orgasm her body shuddered and sputtered underneath me. Her breathing came back in a rush, as if she were a woman who nearly drowned and now found the surface of air.

She looked at me now, her features soft and flush, tears streaming down her eyes.

"Thank you," she said. "Thank you so much." She grabbed me and held onto me with as much strength as she had left.

I don't remember whether or not we actually fell asleep that night, I seem to recall we lay next to each other just touching each other's bodies. In the morning just before sunrise completely entered through the basement window, I entered her again and tried to memorize every part of her body from the inside out.

Before the rest of the house awoke, we said our goodbyes in the last moments that we had where we could be our true selves, expressing our true feelings. We both knew that we only had a few moments left before this night would be a mere memory, and we would necessarily have to pretend it never happened.

All too quickly, we heard movement upstairs, the floorboards above creaking with the purposeful morning routines of our family.

I looked at her. "Don't ever forget how much I love you," I said.

"How could I?" she said, smiling. She rubbed the spot of her belly just below her navel to emphasize the point. "I'll never forget how this feels, Jeremy."

We kissed deep and hard, We held onto each other and I felt her naked body responding to my touch the same way mine was to hers. But we couldn't do anything now. The night was over.

More noises from upstairs forced us to separate. Both of us dressed into our shorts and t-shirts and started gathering our things for the day, and not a moment too soon. The basement door swung wide open and my grandmother came down the stairs to get something out of the laundry room.

The entire morning I felt wracked with guilt. I stole glances at her and tried to catch her eye to let her know that even though I couldn't touch her, I wanted to. I wanted to pull her aside and talk to her, know what she was thinking and feeling. There were too many people in the house, though, and she played her part well. In a way that only I would know, i could see her sending me little signals to tell me that her mind was somewhere else, somewhere completely more intimate with me.

It came time for me to leave for the airport, and my parents started shuffling me towards the car. I said my goodbyes to my aunts and uncles, and gave Heather an embrace that I hoped was no longer than any of the others I gave for my family, something that wouldn't gather attention, but definitely much tighter than necessary between cousins.

We never saw each other again after that moment. Heather and I never lived anywhere close to the same side of the country, but as it stood she got married less than a couple years later. When I heard the news I was shocked and disappointed, and allowed myself that luxury of emotion despite it being pointless. She and I exchanged letters afterwards for a little while, but neither one of us were very good about that and soon we drifted apart.

I never met someone who came close to being my "dream woman," and no one that matched me sexually either. Growing up, Heather and I did have a "special" bond, one that I could never recreate nor explain with anyone else. I had been right all along, right about how it could only be that one night, right about it hurting to lose her, right about living my life in the knowledge that she was the woman in that dream.

As time went on, news about Heather was few and far between. In fact, aside from the fact that Heather had two beautiful daughters I didn't know much about her any longer. Now I wondered just what, if anything, Heather had ever mentioned about me in the years since, and I wondered how she felt about me, if she came to resent what we did or embraced it as lovingly as I did.

A knock on the bathroom door brought me back to reality. "Is anyone in there?" a voice came through the door.

"Yes," I called. "I'll be right out!"

I stood up and turned on the water to wash my hands and splash some cool water onto my face, only to find out I was shaking. I looked up at the mirror and saw that there were tears streaking down my cheeks that I hadn't even noticed.

Washing my hands and face I allowed myself the indulgence of wondering "what if," one more time. It was a struggle to push the thought out of my head and return to the reunion with a poker face.

I opened the door and a flash of a child blitzed past me. I guess I had been holding him up a little longer than was comfortable.

I stopped at the head of the stairs, took a deep breath, and hoped that I had washed away any visible clues from my face about who I was thinking about. I replayed the exchange with my aunt and realized that in a round-about way, Aunt Sarah had told me that Heather still loved me and maybe, just maybe, she cherished that moment as much as I did.