Language of Love Ch. 01

"Hmm. I guess I've thought about it. But no." he replied.

"I kinda worry I chased Alyssa off. I didn't mean to. I was hoping you two would, y'know, do it, even."

"Same with you and Danny!" Marc replied. "Did I scare him off somehow?"

The two of them thought about the topic for a few minutes, passing the bowl back and forth a few times. Marc was the first to speak.

"Allie did get pretty mad when I wouldn't teach her Fraytch." One of the most sacred vows between the two of them, a blood swear, was that nobody else was allowed to learn their secret language.

"Oh? You never told me that!"

"I think I kinda blocked it out. Like right away blocked it out. She broke up with me, I dunno, a day later?"

"Remember when we went to the arcade on a double date? I think that's when Dan lost his patience," Elora added.

"The Skee-ball?" Marc said. "Dang! Not gonna lie; that was pretty lame of us."

The four of them had gone to an arcade. Marc and Elora could get competitive with each other when certain games were involved. In an arcade, Skee-ball brought out the worst in them.

"Yeah, I think we kind of blocked everything else out for like, what, forty minutes or something? Had to be kind of awkward for our dates!" Elora said.

"Shit, now I feel like I messed things up for you, too."

"It's okay, I wasn't that into him. That was at least part of the problem."

"To be honest, I think that Allie could tell, too. She even said something like, 'You obviously have someone else on your mind, dude,'" Marc said, imitating his ex-girlfriend's voice.

"So are we," Elora started.

"Freaks?" Marc continued. "I don't think so!"

"Alright, but you have to admit, it probably weirded Allie and Dan out when we," she started.

"Finished each other's sentences in front of them? Yeah, I guess that's a good point. But I like," he said.

"Finishing each other's sentences!" she completed.

Elora took another large gulp of whiskey, then handed the flask to Marc. "When the going gets tough," she started.

"the tough start drinkin'" he finished, and took a healthy slug, himself. Both of them looked queasy, but held the fiery liquid down.

"Y'know what, let's just not worry about it for now, let's just enjoy this trip!" Marc suggested.

"Kiss?" Elora asked, by way of agreement.

Marc leaned over and kissed her chastely on the lips.

"Uh-uh-uh!" she teased. "Open mouth from now on!"

Marc tried again, his lips slightly agape. He could taste the alcohol on her breath. He brushed his lips against her upper, then lower lip. She responded by darting her tongue across his. This time, she dared to push it further into his mouth, grazing his teeth this time before retreating. It was all they could do not to tackle each other in a giant embrace.

"Time for Settlers!" Marc said brightly. He enjoyed the kiss, perhaps too much, and wanted to change the subject. Elora readily agreed, got up, and retrieved a travel-sized version of the game from her backpack. Despite being a smaller form-factor than the standard edition of the board game, it took up an unreasonable amount of space in her pack, made worse by the fact that an additional expansion pack was needed to enable them to play without a third person. Most backpackers would balk at the concept of lugging so much excess gear around, but the cousins both loved the game and could not bear to leave it behind.

X X X X

Later that evening, Marc and Elora had retired to their small, two-person tent; it was a tight fit, but neither of them felt uncomfortable. They were facing each other, each in their own sleeping bag, each wearing the light long underwear they had brought along as pajamas.

"I just wanna remind you," Marc said, "that I won tonight. In case you'd forgotten." He was referring to their game of Settlers of Qatan.

"If it's such a big deal to you to beat me, I won't rain on your parade," she said primly. "I mean, what, that's the first time in eight matches?"

Marc had known he was not going to come out on top of the debate he had just started, but they enjoyed bickering with each other too much, and he hadn't been able to help himself.

"Alright, Mistress of Qatan, we'd better get some sleep," he said, reaching for the electric lantern, which was hanging from a loop above their heads.

"Wait!" she said. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

"Huh?"

"My goodnight kiss!"

She would have put her hands on her hips, but did not have the room, and he would not have been able to see the gesture anyway. Marc kissed her, this time remembering to keep his mouth open. He also stuck his own tongue out, past his teeth, meeting hers at the tip. Under normal circumstances, he would not have dared to do so, even given that she had done the same the last time around. But he was feeling tipsy from the bourbon. An electric thrill shot through his body as their tongues caressed each other, ever so minimally, for the first time in their lives. His cock, already stiff, as it was, grew rock hard. Elora felt a sensation around her midsection that she would have had trouble describing with words. She had been feeling it more and more often around Marc, in recent years, and knew from experience that her panties, had she been wearing any, would be wet by now.

Moving slowly, not wanting Marc to know, she snaked a hand down to feel the front of her long underwear. The thin polyester cloth was the only thing that separated her hand from her labia. Sure enough, the fabric was mildly damp. Her head swam as she wondered what his penis looked like. Despite their closeness, they scrupulously avoided seeing each other nude.

"Marc, what does my saliva taste like to you?" Elora asked, Their tongues had been playing across each other for about two minutes, and while she badly wanted to continue, she also found herself intensely curious about whether he liked how her mouth tasted.

"Hmm," Marc said. He was disappointed to have stopped. He tried to think of what her tongue, wet with spit, had tasted like, and could not come up with anything. "I don't know, sort of, nothing?"

"Nothing in a bad way?" Elora asked, faintly concerned.

"No!" Marc assured her. "I mean, kinda like my own spit; I can't tell the difference I think. So it just tastes... clear I guess. Allie's saliva I could definitely taste."

"Dan's too." Elora admitted.

"To be fair, just the tips of our tongues were touching, so it's not much of a sample size."

"True!"

"I know, how about you spit in my mouth?" Marc volunteered.

"Really?" Elora asked. To her own surprise, the suggestion appealed to her, and she felt the wobbly sensation around her loins growing stronger. "You won't be grossed out or anything?"

"Naw," Marc said, feeling excited himself, now that he had suggested the idea. "It's for science, right? Just don't hock a loogie."

"As if!" Elora said. She saw Marc open his mouth wide. Coming out of her sleeping bag, she perched over him and let a substantial blob of white saliva drip into his orifice. He closed his mouth and swished it around.

"Interesting!" he said, cryptically. "Try again?"

"Oh!" she said, in frustration, but knew from his expression that he was not going to tell her anything just yet. She waited a few beats, then let another quantity drip from her lips. This time she brought her face so close to his, they could feel each other's breath.

"Yup, nothing!" he said, cheerfully. "Kind of amazing, it's like we have the same spit."

"Okay, you do me now," Elora said, unable to keep a rising excitement out of her voice. She lay back, mouth agape. As her beloved cousin suspended himself above her, she felt the damp patch between her legs grow big enough to feel, even though her hand was no longer there. Marc let his spit dribble past her lips. She let it sit on her tongue for a while. Unsurprisingly, it was indistinguishable from her own. "Same," she said.

The two of them stared into each other's eyes. Marc felt dizzy, not for the first time that day, as her blue orbs seemed to bore into his own. He lost track of time, and was not sure how many minutes had passed when Elora broke the silence.

"Marc," she began. He knew what she was going to say, and did not want her to say it alone. She knew that he knew, and did not want him to say it alone, either.

"I love you," they said in perfect unison.

"So fuckin' much!" Elora added, cheekily.

"Hey, no fair!" Marc complained. "That was cheating!"

"All's fair, in love and war!" Elora countered.

"Anyway, I love you even more fuckin' much!" he said, raising the stakes.

"Well I love you so fuckin', uh, the most!"

"Thank God nobody's here to listen to us," Marc said. "They'd be pukin' right about now." They both burst out laughing.

"Okay," Elora said. "We'd better get to bed, or we'll never make it to camp tomorrow." It was a twelve-mile hike with significant elevation gain.

"Goodnight," Marc said. He refrained from kissing her, as he knew if he did so they might never get any rest.

They rolled onto their sides, facing away from each other, and tried to go to sleep.

X X X X

About thirty minutes later, the cousins were still awake. Although tired enough, two problems were impeding sleep. One was that they were both chilly. The sleeping bags that Elora's mom had packed were not quite warm enough. While the days were hot, at that time of year, the nights were still cool. It would only get worse as they made their way to higher elevations. Still, both would probably be asleep by now were it not for the second problem: horniness. Both felt an intense need for sexual relief.

Elora was the first to give in to her desires. As quietly as she could, she began to rub her clitoris in slow, gentle circles. It took all her willpower not to moan or speak her cousin's name aloud, but she managed to keep the noise she was making down to just slightly heavier breathing. She knew that, while her pussy would get messy when she came, little to no fluid would actually get on the sleeping bag.

Marc, on the other hand, was not so lucky. He knew that if he started to masturbate he'd end up spraying cum all over the inside of his sleeping bag. Frustrated, he resolved to keep his hands off of his privates, even if it meant staying up all night; then he heard his cousin's breathing grow labored. He knew, instantly, what that meant. Although they had never masturbated in each other's presence before, she was not being as subtle as she had hoped.

'That's it, I don't care!' Marc thought. He reached down, carefully, to pull off one of his socks. The maneuver was difficult because of the constraints of his sleeping bag. While he was distracted in his attempt to get one of his socks off, the tent was suddenly flooded with light. Marc squinted.

"What're you doing?" Elora asked. Her hand was retreating from the electric lantern, which she had just illuminated. He could hear the amusement in her voice.

"I, um, was gonna, take off one of my socks?" he explained, lamely.

'Why am I trying to hide something she was already doing herself?' Marc chided himself. Both of their faces were flushed with blood.

"You can use my shirt, Marc" Elora volunteered.

"Wait, for what?" he replied, in a futile effort to play dumb.

"Your sock won't work as well, dummy! Surface area!" she said. Then she added, "For catching your sperm." Marc's stomach felt like it was falling through his rib cage and into the ground. She rummaged around in a mesh pocket sewn into the tent, near her head, and pulled out her sweat-stained, cotton tank top. He took it, and, before his brain caught up to his motor function, he brought it to his face and inhaled deeply.

"Now what are you doing?" she asked.

Marc knew the futility of trying to lie to her, she could read him with unerring accuracy. And, moreover, he didn't want to. "I just like how you smell," he admitted. "Sorry if that was weird."

"Oh," she said, blushing more furiously now. "Even when I'm all sweaty and gross?"

"Especially then," Marc said.

"Oh," she said, again, and her face would have turned redder still, had that been anatomically possible. The cousins stared at each other for a few seconds, a brief but awkward moment that seemed to stretch on for much longer than it actually did. "I guess I should turn out the lantern?" she said, breaking the silence at last. She reached up for the switch, but Marc put a hand on hers.

"I'd rather keep it on," he said. Elora's heart skipped a beat; she had not wanted to turn it off, either. She wanted to see his face.

"Okay, but only on one condition. I want us to," she started.

"Face each other," Marc continued. Unlike most people, they completed each other's sentences, in part, as a show of unity and mutual understanding.

"Now that we're old enough, we shouldn't," she said.

"Be embarrassed about each other's bodies," he completed.

They slid back into their bags, and turned towards each other, their faces mere inches apart. Elora's eyes darted back and forth, taking in her cousin's visage. Although intimately familiar with every curve and angle, she felt like she was seeing him for the first time. He had smooth skin, which she sometimes thought of as milk chocolate-colored, and sometimes as cinnamon, with bronze-brown hair, lighter and less tightly curled than his father's. His lantern-jawed face had always reminded her of Clark Kent, and his large brown eyes, intense with passion, bore into hers. Marc, for his part, felt a similar sense of newness as he gazed adoringly at his cousin. Unusually similar in appearance to both her mom and her aunt, she had a heart shaped face, with blue eyes, dirty blond hair, a wide, thin-lipped mouth, and pixie-like nose. Her broad features made her look every inch the Irish lass.

Elora stared unflinchingly into her cousin's eyes as she reached between her legs and began to rub herself once more. His presence amplified her feelings tremendously, and the usual wet patch that formed when she got herself off grew much larger than normal. She began to moan softly, and made no attempt to hide how good she was feeling. Marc, eager to catch up, slid her shirt down over his cock, making sure to hold the material around the tip, then began to stroke with his other hand.

'She seems so into it,' he thought, as she continued to moan louder and louder. He felt less self-conscious, stopped trying to keep his breathing under control, and stroked harder than ever. His dick felt like iron, at that moment, as his blood hammered in his chest. With her lips so close to his, he could feel her breath on his mouth. It was all too much. He leaned forward for a kiss. Elora leaned in to her cousin, as well, as soon as she noticed his intent. She opened her mouth and met his tongue with hers. This time around, she was not content to just touch tips. She snaked her tongue around his, and, when their mouths locked on each other's, moments later, she probed deeply. An indescribable wave of pleasure swept across the pair. Elora's hand ground hard against her swollen clit, and Marc rubbed himself with ever greater intensity. The girl climaxed some time later, before her cousin did.

Being together with her other half, especially the fact that their mouths were locked together at the moment she began to orgasm, made this experience like none she'd felt before. Both legs began trembling uncontrollably, and her eyes lost focus on her partner. Marc picked up on her mood, and soon his already aching balls were ejecting wave after wave of sperm into the folds of her shirt. At the same he leaned further forward and began to practically fuck her mouth with his tongue. Finally, they both lay back on their pillows. Elora's eyes regained their sharpness.

"I can't stop kissing you," she said, and brought her lips to his. They gently smooched for some time, as their bodies came down from their intense orgasms.

"That was like," he started.

"Nothing I've ever felt before," she completed. "I think I ruined these long underwear." She stuck her hand out through the opening of the sleeping bag. There was both a sheen of thicker white material, and a more watery liquid dripping from her fingertips. "It doesn't usually get this wet downstairs!"

"Same here, more or less," Marc admitted. He carefully withdrew her shirt from his bag, as he did not want to spill any of the small pool of cum inside the bag.

"Lemme see!" Elora said eagerly. Surprised, Marc gingerly placed the soiled garment between their heads. "I've always wondered what cum looks like! Would it gross you out if I tasted it?"

"N-no! Go ahead." Marc blurted out. Elora smiled wickedly; it was not easy to surprise her cousin. Usually, they could read each other with eerie accuracy. She dipped her index finger, already coated with her own vaginal secretions and pee, into the pond of sperm, scooped up a small amount of the white goo, and placed it on her tongue. She focused on the flavor and texture, trying to decide what she thought, in so doing rolling her eyes upward in concentration. "That's not nearly as bad as Trish said." Trish was one of Elora's best friends.

"I didn't figure Trish for the type," Marc said. He knew she had a boyfriend, but they both came across as chaste.

"She actually gives a lot of head. Her man really likes it, so she does it for him. It's kinda cute; but wow, she fuckin' hates it!"

"What does she say?"

"Whines about the texture mostly. The mix of watery and slimy at the same time? And I guess his tastes like bleach too."

"What about mine?" Marc asked. He sounded confident, as he instinctively knew the broad outlines of her answer before she uttered it, simply based on micro-expressions and other subtle cues he could not have even explained.

"The texture's about what she said. But I think it's interesting." She took another scoop, casually, and sucked on her finger. "As for the taste, hmm," she said, "a bit like mushrooms. So it's lucky for you I like mushrooms!" Staring hard into his eyes, she began to eat most of the remaining cum, using two fingers as a scoop. "Does that get you hard?" she asked, already knowing the answer. She could read him just as well as he could her.

"Duh," he said.

"Well, here, I cleaned off your cum rag for ya'," she said. She licked her lips and took a drink of water from their canteen, swishing the contents around her mouth before swallowing.

"Thanks," he said, knowing she'd done this so that he wouldn't have to taste his own sperm.

"Who's gotcher back?" she said wryly. "I know you don't like mushrooms."

Fifteen minutes of French kissing and masturbating went by before the two cousins climaxed again. This time, Elora's preceded Marc's by several minutes. She helped him along by reaching out of the bag, threading her soaking wet fingers through his hair, and using the leverage to kiss his mouth deeply, her long tongue penetrating surprisingly far towards his throat. Groaning, Marc deposited another load of semen onto her poor shirt. His balls were aching, and there was a dull throbbing along his shaft.