My Cousin Shows Me Around Campus

Story Info
Then he shows me about love.
18.6k words
4.71
29k
48
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
8letters
8letters
6,558 Followers

This story was originally published on 8/23/17. This was my first and only cousins story. It good a good rating, but only 30% of the views of "Comforting My Little Sister", which was published five months before and had a similar rating.

I took this and all my other stories down in January 2023. I've done some cleanup before republishing it.

Ashlynne Chevrolet of My Sister Set Me Up on a Blind Date kind of makes a brief appearance.

Prologue
Every summer, my family and my aunt's family rented a house at the lake for a week. I was sitting in the back seat of my family's mini-van with my cousin Skipper as we drove to the lake house. I was describing to him a book I had been reading. "That's when we find out there's a prophecy about Hope..."

"It's not a prophecy."

"It's a prophecy. That's what it's called in the book."

Skipper rolled his eyes. "Megan, do you know what a prophecy is?"

"It's what's going to happen in the future."

Skipper's eyes lit up. I had walked into whatever he wanted to argue about. "And why is it going to happen in the future?"

I rolled my eyes right back at him. "Because of the prophecy."

Skipper snorted.

Skipper was Paul George Robinson the Third. Skipper's grandpa went by "Paul", Skipper's dad went by "P. G." and Skipper's parents had originally planned to call him "George". But "George" hadn't suited him. When he was young, he had skipped everywhere so my dad had called him "Skipper". The name had stuck. In high school, Skipper had switched to using "Paul" but everyone in both families continued to call him "Skipper".

Skipper said, "And who made the prophecy? Who's powerful enough to determine what's going to happen in the future?"

"Who made the prophecy isn't mentioned."

Skipper pounced. "What happened? One day when someone was eating a fortune cookie, the fortune said, 'Some girl named Hope will someday save the world'? And everyone acclaimed it as something that's ordained to happen?"

Skipper loved to argue. I was the only one in either family that would argue with him. Argue is too harsh of a term - more like verbally joust. When I sparred with Skipper, I felt special - the only kid smart enough to be Skipper's match.

"Prophecies happen. Don't you remember the prophecy about Harry Potter defeating Voldemort?"

Skipper smiled at me, approving of my riposte. He was so handsome when he smiled. He had lustrous black hair that he combed back. Beneath his strong nose, he had a faint mustache he was inordinately proud of.

"That wasn't really a prophecy. A prophecy is when someone announces that God has told them something God promises to do in the future. No God, no prophecy. Everything else is a prediction. Why would anyone take Trelawney's prediction seriously? She hadn't made any other predictions before she predicted Harry would defeat Voldemort."

My mom had married her sister's husband's best friend and the two families had bought houses down the street and around the corner from the other. Each family had had three kids each within five years. The two families celebrated birthdays and all the major holidays together. Skipper was the oldest of the six cousins. I was three years younger than Skipper, the middle child in my family. I often felt overlooked; lost in the shuffle.

Dad yelled from the driver's seat, "Are you two fighting again?"

Skipper yelled back, "No. I'm teaching Megan the definition of a few English words."

I punched Skipper in the shoulder.

Skipper yelled, "Now we're fighting."

Everyone in the car cracked up.

Next week, Skipper was leaving to go to a university three hours away. He'd be living in the dorms. I knew I'd miss him terribly.

* * * *

Three years later
I knocked on the door to Skipper's apartment. I heard movement and a few moments later, the door opened.

"Megan!" cried Skipper. I moved toward him and he wrapped me in a hug. "What a pleasant surprise! I feel like I saw you just last weekend."

"You did see me just last weekend."

"And I feel like I talked to you just last night."

I snickered as I pulled out of his hug and entered his apartment. "You did talk to me just last night. When you told me your roommate was going to be gone this weekend, I had the brilliant idea of coming to visit you."

Skipper closed the door and followed me as I walked into the kitchen.

I said, "Long drive. I'm thirsty. Could I have some water?"

"Sure. Let me get you a glass."

Skipper got me a plastic cup out of a cabinet. I admired how handsome he looked. His mustache was full now and gave him such a dashing look. He was dressed in a T-shirt and shorts as I was. As he was filling the cup with ice and water, he asked, "Why the visit? Want to celebrate turning eighteen again?"

I had turned eighteen the Monday before last and had celebrated being eighteen with Skipper last weekend. I was here for a different reason. "I want to know more of what it's like at college."

It was late April. Soon, I'd graduate from high school. In the fall, I'd be attending the same university as Skipper, living in the dorms.

Skipper handed me the water. "I gave you and your parents the full tour last weekend."

After a long sip, I said, "I know. But that was the sanitized college tour you felt comfortable giving my parents. I want a real college tour. I want to see what college life is really like. I want to know what the sex life is really like here. And I want to go to a college party and get drunk."

Skipper looked at me dubiously. "Have you gotten drunk before?"

"No. I've been buzzed a few times but not drunk."

Skipper shook his head. "You'll find out about all those things soon enough. You didn't need to make a special trip now. Do your parents know you're here?"

I took a small breath. "No, they don't. I told them I'd be spending the weekend with a friend. And I do want to find out about those things now. I'm feeling anxious about going to college."

"You'll be fine..."

"What I think happens at college is based on R-rated movies. I want to know what it's really like."

"Megan, you'll..." Skipper shut his mouth and then shook his head. "You aren't going to take no for an answer, are you?"

I smiled. "Of course not. Not after I drove three hours."

Skipper sighed. "Alright. You want to know what life in the dorms is really like. You want a tour of the campus where you're told stories about what classes are really like. You want to go to a college party and get drunk. And I can show you what it's like to live in an apartment close to campus, even though that's not what you're going to do your first year. Anything else?"

"I'd like advice on how to be happy and successful at college."

Skipper raised his eyebrows.

I said, "The last two years haven't been that good for me."

"How so?" Skipper asked with concern in his voice.

"I don't feel like I did as well as I should have. I want to get off to a better start at college."

"Come here." I went to Skipper and he hugged me. "I think you'll do fine. I'll be around if you want help or advice. But if it makes you feel better, I'll do what I can to give you a better feel for what college life is like." Skipper held me for a little while longer before releasing me. He pulled out his phone. "Let me make a few calls."

* * * *

Fifteen minutes later, we were driving over to the dorms in the Skippermobile. A little before Skipper turned sixteen, someone had crashed into the passenger side of the car of one of my dad's friends, heavily damaging that whole side of the two-door sedan. The passenger door wouldn't open. The car had been still drivable but the insurance company had totaled it. My dad had arranged for Skipper to buy it for a song. The car had been well maintained so Skipper didn't have any trouble with it. I had always found it fun crawling across the driver's seat to get to the passenger seat.

Skipper said, "I'm going to introduce you to Allie. She was my girlfriend freshman year. She's very nice and will honestly tell you what life is like in the dorms."

"Sounds good." When meeting new people, I preferred meeting them one at a time. "There's something I'd like to ask you now, adult-to-adult."

"Ask away."

"Tell me the truth, not something that's politically correct. Do college guys only find girls with big boobs attractive?"

Skipper laughed.

"I'm serious. I know two girls who've had boob jobs because that's what they thought they needed to be popular at college. There's a reason why breast augmentation is the most performed cosmetic procedure in the U.S."

"Okay. If it's something you're worried about, let me give you a thoughtful answer." Skipper thought for a few seconds. "Now, if I'm looking at an image of a girl, I prefer a girl with big boobs. I'd imagine it'd be tough to make it into the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue if you don't have much on top. But when I talk with someone, there are so many factors that go into determining if I find them attractive. Chest size is just one and it isn't all that high on my list. I'm sure there are guys on campus that chest size is on top of their list, but I don't think many."

"What's on the top of your list then?"

Skipper shrugged. "I don't know."

"Oh come on. You have to know. You said you had a list."

"I do but..." Skipper stopped. He knew I wasn't going to let him brush me off. He thought for a moment before saying, "Okay. Nice teeth."

I snorted. "Nice teeth?"

"Nice teeth. I've dated tall girls, short girls, girls with big boobs, flat-chested girls. Blondes, brunettes, redheads. But I've never dated anyone with bad teeth."

It was an answer. An unsatisfying answer, but I knew Skipper would stick with it. I decided to get an answer from a different angle. "Let's say you're single..."

"Which I am."

"...and you're deciding which girl to get to know better with an eye to asking out. How important is her chest size in making that decision?"

"It's not...When I'm single, I'm looking to talk with girls I enjoy talking with. Having big tits doesn't make a girl more fun to talk with," Skipper said with a tone of finality like he didn't want to discuss the topic anymore. "How many times did you go rollerblading this week?"

My city had a miles-long cement path close to my house and I loved zooming around it. "Every day."

"With how much you rollerblade and how often you wear shorts, guys are going to be bumping heads checking out your backside. Besides, you have very nice tits."

I was shocked. "How would you know if I have nice tits?" Had Skipper seen me naked at some point?

"Every summer for a week, I spend all day with you while you're wearing a bikini. I've seen enough of your tits to know they're very nice. If you were any other girl, I would be wishing right now you had worn a top that showed off your tits more."

"But I'm...?"

"You're my cousin."

An awkward silence followed. Skipper thought I had nice tits? I had had no idea.

I asked, "Are you good friends with Allie?"

"No. We're friends but not good friends. It was awkward for a while after we broke up, but we eventually patched things up. I haven't seen her much since I moved off campus."

We parked in the dorm parking lot and Allie was waiting for us at the entrance to her dorm. She was a blue-eyed brunette a couple of inches taller than my 5'6". Her brown hair was parted in the middle and tumbled down to her bust line. She was wearing lip gloss and I suspected some mascara. A very different look from me as I had black hair that I kept above my shoulders and I didn't use makeup. She wasn't wearing shoes but was wearing pajama pants with a Claymation sheep print and a T-shirt from some fraternity beer bash.

Skipper said, "Allie, this is my cousin Megan. I'm sure I've told you about her."

As Allie shook my hand, she said, "She's the bookworm, right?"

I froze for a second. I read a lot. Too much. But I hated being called a bookworm.

Skipper said, "She reads a lot, which makes her interesting to talk with. You'll enjoy talking with her."

That made me feel all warm inside.

Allie said, "Let's go up to my room and talk." She turned and walked toward the elevators in the lobby. As we went to her room, Skipper told Allie about my campus visit last weekend and how this weekend I wanted the real scoop about college and living in the dorms. When we entered Allie's room, Skipper said, "I'll be right back with two Diet Cokes."

Once we sat down, Allie said, "How about I start with when I first moved in and take you through my almost three years of college." Allie then told me all about her life in college, sharing high points and low points. Skipper popped in for a few minutes with Diet Cokes before disappearing to find some old friends.

"...Probably the worst thing about dating someone in the dorms is that when you breakup with them, they still live down the hall. If he's a guy who was in the group of friends you hung out with regularly, he's still in that group of friends. It's really bad when he dumps you for some other girl in your group of friends."

"What can you do then?"

"Not much. Tough it out. Find a new group of friends." Allie changed subjects by asking, "Is Paul dating anyone currently?" She had tried to sound casual as she asked it, but I could tell it was important to her.

"He told me this morning he's single."

"Okay. I haven't spoken to him in a while and didn't want to ask him about who he's dating if that'd be a sore point..."

I felt like she was trying to brush off the importance of the answer to her.

There was a knock on the door. Allie called out, "Come in!"

Skipper came in and sat down on the bed. "Keep talking. Ignore me."

Allie and I talked some more, but it wasn't as open with Skipper in the room. Eventually, I said, "Paul, we were talking about dating in the dorms and how bad it can be when you breakup. What happened when you two broke up?"

Skipper said, "Well, we broke up the week before Finals, so we didn't have to struggle being around each other for too long. I responded to the breakup by studying like a madman..."

"...And I responded by getting blitzed at parties whenever I wasn't studying."

"That reminds me," said Skipper. "Megan wants to go to a college party tonight and get drunk. Do you know of a good one happening tonight?"

Allie's eyes lit up. "I do. Do you mind if I come along?"

Skipper didn't seem surprised by the request. "I'd prefer that."

"And you'll be the designated driver for both of us?" She batted her eyes and smiled.

Skipper bowed slightly. "Certainly."

That seemed to make Allie very happy.

I asked, "What happened after finals? Did you hang out together the next year?"

Skipper said, "No. I changed majors and hung out with different people."

"Paul changed from Engineering to Economics. Do you know why?" Allie smiled like she was telling a funny joke.

"No."

"Because there wasn't anything to argue about in Engineering. You plug the numbers into the formulas and you get the answers. Paul wanted a major where he could argue with his fellow students." Allie's eyes were filled with laughter. Then her face turned serious. "We remained friends even after the break up. Several times since, I've been blitzed at a party and when some creepy guy wanted to take me home, I called Paul to come rescue me." Allie looked at Skipper appreciatively.

I asked, "Did you two argue?"

Allie said, "We rarely fought, but we argued all the time." She looked at Skipper.

Skipper asked me, "Have you seen the movie Annie Hall?"

"No."

"Allie had me watch it with her. There's one part which is a split scene. Diane Keaton is talking with her therapist and Woody Allen is talking with his. Both therapists ask how often they have sex. Diane Keaton says, 'Constantly! Probably three times a week.' Then Woody Allen says, 'Hardly ever. Maybe three times a week.'" Allie laughed. "So Allie thinks we argued all the time while I think we hardly argued." Skipper smiled at Allie. "But she was always a great sport about it and never took it the wrong way." Skipper winked at me. "Allie also had me watch all of the Pixar films with her. Except for Up."

Allie rolled her eyes and then moved to the bed next to Skipper.

I decided to play along. "Why not Up?"

"Because she was borrowing the DVDs from the singer Rick Astley and he's never gonna give you Up."

Allie punched Skipper lightly on the shoulder. "You need to learn some new jokes."

"Rickrolling never gets old."

I was surprised by how well Allie and Skipper got along.

Skipper said, "I'm hungry. Allie, is this about when you and your friends eat lunch?"

"It is. Do you want to join us?"

"If you don't mind."

Allie gathered six other students and we all went downstairs. In the elevator going down, Skipper kept softly singing the words to Never Gonna Give You Up while making silly dance moves. Allie tried to hold a conversation with one of her friends but kept giggling.

In the cafeteria, Allie went through the line with me, telling me what was not high in calories but still tasted good. Then I sat with Skipper, Allie, and her friends as they ate lunch. Skipper didn't say much. Normally, he'd be making jokes and telling stories; talking as much as anyone. But I suspected he wasn't saying much because he wanted to create space in the conversation for me to talk. I didn't want to. I never felt comfortable talking in groups. The only time I had been comfortable in a group had been in church youth group. I'd sit next to Skipper like I was now and I'd let him speak for both of us. As we agreed on so much, he rarely said something I disagreed with and I'd always pipe up when he did. But most of the time, he'd talk, I'd listen and yet I felt a part of the group because "we" had talked. Now, I could sense the camaraderie and concern Allie and her friends felt for each other, but I didn't feel a part of the group.

When they discussed classes, I thought back to my conversation earlier with Skipper. He thought I had very nice tits? I almost blushed thinking about it. The way he had said "You're my cousin" reminded me of something that had happened when I was thirteen. I had had a huge crush on Skipper. My sister Lauren and Skipper didn't get along well - the least well out of all our two families - and one day I had overheard Lauren teasing Skipper about my crush on him. Skipper had shut down the teasing by saying with a firm voice, "She's my cousin."

After lunch, Skipper said to Allie, "I've got a frisbee golf game lined up for Megan."

"Have fun. Tonight, pick me up out front around nine."

"See you then."

Once we left Allie and her friends, I said, "She was fun and very helpful. I feel like I have a much better picture of college life after talking with her."

"Glad to hear it."

"Do you normally get along so well with your ex-girlfriends?"

Skipper shook his head. "No. Most of the time, I barely speak to someone after I've broken up with them. But as we were three doors down from each other sophomore year, I think we both made the extra effort to stay at least friendly. Once both of us were in new relationships, we started talking regularly and became friends again."

We left Allie's dorm and headed over to another one. Outside of it, Skipper introduced me to Jeremy and Carlos, two of his fellow Economics students. Jeremy had a cart full of frisbees of different sizes. The four of us walked as Skipper explained that I wanted to hear stories about everyday life on campus.

We stopped suddenly and Carlos said to all of us, "Let's start here." He pointed to a bronze statue about two hundred feet away that looked something like a giant rabbit jumping on a star. "That's the first hole." He turned to me and said, "Count the number of throws it takes to hit the statue."

8letters
8letters
6,558 Followers