In Lust with My Cousin

Nearing the end I realized what we had done. "We're not going to make it to the dinner, are we?" I asked Scotty, then kissed him.

"I don't think so," he said laughing. "This has been much more fun. We'll have to tell everyone we're sick, I guess."

So that's what we did. I called my dad and said I had a stomach bug and was throwing up; he offered to come stay with me, but I shot that down quickly. Scotty told his family something too, and made sure no one would come looking for us. After that we barely left the hotel room—each of us going down the hall for ice once—and didn't bother getting dressed at all. We stayed naked, lying in each other's arms, having wild and crazy sex, and giving each other orgasms. We took another shower, christened the jacuzzi tub, and practically killed each other—in a good way. We had so much fun, and by the time the weekend ended Sunday afternoon I'd had more sex—and better sex—than I'd had in a long time. I think I as in love with my cousin, and it was so hard to watch him leave and not kiss him goodbye.

We promised to keep in better touch, to find another way to be together, but we knew it was likely impossible. I went back home to my life, but couldn't stop thinking about Scotty. I stopped having sex with anyone else, not even my fuck buddy. I've been celibate for more than two months, my only salvation a nightly masturbation session while thinking about my incestuous encounter with Scotty. Maybe it was wrong and I probably shouldn't have done it, but I know I will jump at the chance.