Some Things Never Change

I had a first cousin, Jerry, who, as soon as I met him, became my best and dearest friend. I think a lot of it had to do with the fact that we were born on the same day, same month and year with him being just four hours younger than me.

I don't know how dad and aunt Becky arranged that!

Every family get-together, we'd be off by ourselves talking, playing games—whatever. It really didn't matter just so long as we were together. We had this 'us against them' sort of attitude, and this held true through grade school and even into our college years.

Then one night in our third year of college, after toiling through studies and exams, we had a little beer together to celebrate, and the closeness of our relationship got even closer.

We made love together!

I have to say that though we were both virgins, it was wonderful! I'd heard horror tales from some of my girlfriends about how awful their first time had been. Not with Jerry and I though! That first night we made love until the excitement we felt for each other superceded the alcohol we'd consumed. In fact we were consumed with just each other. We touched and kissed and caressed, and then I went down on him to the point where he pushed me away so he wouldn't spurt. Then he spread my legs and went down on me, and I'd never felt anything so wonderful in my life. He made me cum five or six times with just his lips and tongue, but he stopped eating me and then went on to kiss and explore the rest of my body.

My orgasms only continued!

When it was over and he lay on top of me—even while I could feel his cock twitching into softness again in my pussy—it was like the storm was over. We uncoupled and lay there and I started feeling guilty about what we'd done. We both started to apologize at the same moment, laughed, told the other to continue—again at the same time—and then waited for a second. He expressed to me how wonderful it had been (as did I), but that perhaps, it wasn't the best thing for cousins to do.

We vowed to never make love again.

The next morning we did though—for almost two hours—and later in the day we did it again. Each time we vowed to never touch each other or think of each other in a sexual way, and each time our love for each other—and this new found release and pleasure—would just take over.

For the remainder of our time in college we made love two or three times a day. It was the happiest, most fulfilling time of my life.

Then, as often happens after graduation, we moved to different cities. I kept in touch with Jerry for awhile with letters, but eventually we lost track of one another and led our own separate lives.

As for me, I experimented (a lot) with sex. In a matter of six months in my adopted city, I'd slept with approximately 60 different men. I was always dating, always getting drunk and having flings, but there was not even a single man who made me feel the way Jerry had. I eventually tried lesbian relationships and found it much more satisfying. Still not perfect, but a little closer to what I'd experienced with Jerry.

But simply being in bed with another woman doesn't guarantee happiness. Through my 20s and into my early thirties, I had a dozen different women in my life—everything from complete fawns and lipstick girls to stone-dikes. Each was wonderful, but nothing lasted.

And nothing made the memories of Jerry go completely away.

Then, a year or so ago, by chance, I received an email from Jerry! He'd seen my picture on our company's website. I cried as I read his words, words about how often he'd thought of me, how much he missed me. I wrote back telling him almost the exact same things because I was feeling exactly that same way. We made arrangements to meet because he was flying into town on business, and on the appointed day and hour I sat in the restaurant waiting anxiously. I hadn't gotten a picture of Jerry, but I knew I'd recognize him the moment I saw him.

I sat and sat, eating breadsticks as nervously as if I were smoking cigarettes, peering out the window at the passersby and studying each person who entered the restaurant. Then someone was standing in my way, blocking my view. I looked up and my first thought was that this was the sort of tall, curvy woman I'd gladly have in my bed.

Then, though the face was softer and more feminine, I recognized the eyes.

"Jerry?" I asked, and this gorgeous woman nodded. I just stared, and Jerry kept smiling.

"Molly," this vision said, but the voice was feminine. I thought I was having a nightmare. "May I uh..."

No, it was more like a dream.

"Oh yes, please sit Jerry!" and he started to sit but I suddenly rose and came around and hugged him/her. She/he hugged me back.

"My god how I've missed you Jerry!" I said as I kissed his cheek.

"And you'll never know how much I've missed you," Jerry whispered in my ear. Then we sat. The hardest thing for me was to not stare.

"I've had my name changed so it's 'G-E-R-I'," Geri said, and despite the extreme change in appearance, the real Jerry, the one I now realized I'd fallen in love with all those years ago, still shone through.

"So many things to talk about," I said, and then the waiter came up, we ordered, and finally leaned forward again as we used to, speaking quietly of all the things that had happened in our lives. Before the main course even arrived, Geri had told me his tale, about his drug problems, his sexual problems and excesses, and his final salvation when he eventually found the root of his disconnection with himself.

"And you?" this stunning woman asked me when the meal had begun, and I told everything. It was just like before. Geri had always listened to each and every one of my words, treating each as a gem. She nodded, listened, ate, listened. I felt the weight of years lifting off my shoulders as I related the joys and sorrows, the successes and failures in my life.

We were sipping coffee and enjoying cheesecake when the subject of spouses or partners came up. We admitted we were both single, and when Geri's hand slowly slid across the table to touch mine, I spread my fingers and held it.

Dearly.

"I know I'm not what I used to be..." Geri whispered.

"You're more than you used to be," I said, and even though my eyes were getting misty, I saw a tear in Geri's eyes as well.

We left the restaurant and strolled down the boulevard past all the shops. We made our way through the after-lunch crowds hurrying back to their offices, and to tell the truth I'd never been more proud to walk beside anyone as I felt right then. A tall, gorgeous beauty; one that had had hormone treatments for years, painful bone structure modifications—the works. As a woman I was in awe; as a lesbian, I was amazed and attracted, but as a person, I felt merely in love again.

Like when we'd been younger.

"I'm staying here," Geri said as she stopped in front of a large, rather famous downtown hotel, and for a moment I wished she would ask me up to her room. There were years of love making I wanted to catch up on, especially now, with her looking and being so completely womanly. But I didn't have hope that that would ever happen.

But then it did.

"...and if you like," Geri whispered. "I would really love the company...."

The inside of my throat clutched tight. I smiled and nodded, my eyes flooding again, and we went through the lobby, up in the elevator and down the hallway. There was a tense moment of indecision and uncertainty when the door was closed and locked, but then something inside both of us drew us together in the middle of that darkened room. We kissed like that first time in college, and in moments we were anxiously taking our clothes off. I knew my beauty would never match Geri's, but I only hoped it was enough to please her.

Then, naked except for her beautiful emerald green g-string, Geri stood smiling at me. I saw—and felt—her eyes on me, on my everywhere, but my eyes were not sitting idle either. She was so beautiful! Every part of her a woman.

And then Geri, taking a breath as if to steady herself, put her thumbs under the waist of her underwear and pushed them down.

A stiff cock flipped up into view! I hadn't seen it for years but I recognized it instantly. There was no hair on it or Geri's crotch and even though it was ultimately familiar, it also somehow fit the look of the rest of her now.

"I...I sort of saved it for you," Geri whispered, and I went to her, knelt, and began sucking on her rigid, wonderful pole. I ran my hands up and down her smooth legs, down to her creamy smooth ankles and it felt as though all my life's sexual experiences had all melded together into this one singular moment.

Then Geri pulled me to my feet, guided me back to the bed, and began to do what he'd done so often to me. My orgasms swirled and raced. I realized that I'd never felt anything so wonderful with any other partner, ever in my life! Only Geri could make me feel this way! I came and other lovers and my times with them would flash through my head, and each time I knew that what I'd experienced with them was nothing compared to what was happening to me now!

And as would always happen, I lay limp and satisfied, completely content and spent. I felt as though I were in a dream again—a memory from the past—and that I would now wake up and realize it a such.

But then a beautiful face, one that had eyes like my best friend and lover, drifted into view over me. He was so beautiful! He was smiling, and then I felt another part of that same distant dream touch me right between my swollen pussy-lips. I held my breath, wondering if I'd wake up, but then Geri pushed forward and downward and entered me fully. I gasped. I came. I looked up.

"Oh my god, Geri!" I gasped. "I've missed you so much!"

My cousin, my best and closest friend—my one and only best lover—slid his thick, long, stiff prick in and out of my cunt for another ten minutes and then unloaded. There was so much cum that it dripped down out of me and leaked down the crack of my ass. It was an orgasm that had waited years, but mine was no less powerful.

Combined, it brought us both to tears.

When it was over I had the instinct to look up and apologize; to promise that this would never happen again, but when I pulled Geri's face to me and kissed her lips, I decided on different words.

"I—" we both said at the same instant, and we laughed. I laughed as I hadn't laughed in years. "No, you go—" we said in unison, but I finally took the lead.

"I think," I said, "That instead of saying we should never do this again like we used to..." Geri smiled at me. "I'm thinking we should say 'Let's always do this again.'"

Geri nodded enthusiastically. He shoved his softening dick into me deeper and made me cum.

Thankfully, gratefully, it wasn't the last time!

—M. Johnson in Minnesota