The Open Door

It's a little darker than I'd expected it to be this early in the evening, when I park my car in my cousin's apartment complex and get out. I look up at the second-story window of her apartment; there's a lamp on, but I can't tell if it's from her room or her roommate's. I shrug; it really doesn't matter either way.

There's a bit of a breeze to chill the skin on an otherwise warm night, and I wish I had worn a jacket. But I won't be staying very long; maybe not more than a minute.

I walk up to the door. I double-check that it's hers; it's been a while since I've been here. But sure enough, in true form, her instantly recognizable lawn gnome is squatting in the bush by the door. I knock six times, fairly sharply but not enough to bother her neighbors, and take a step back.

A minute goes by without a sound from inside the apartment. I conclude that she's not there, which makes perfect sense. She's got a boyfriend and a life, after all. Or maybe she's already asleep; she works like a mule and goes to bed early. Shrugging again, I pull out the envelope with the note I'd prepared, stick it in the middle of the Dostoyevsky novel I'd borrowed from her a month ago which was my whole reason for coming here, and set it down on the doormat where I hope she'll notice it.

As I'm stepping away the door opens just a crack and my cousin Jocelyn pokes her head out. "Nate?" she asks quietly.

"Hey, Jocelyn," I greet, surprised to see her. No light goes on, but she opens the door a little more and I see she's wearing a robe. She must have already gone to bed, and I quietly curse that I wasn't able to get out this way earlier in the evening.

"Hey. What're you doing here?"

"Returning Crime and Punishment before I leave town," I answer, pulling out the note since she won't need it anymore and handing the book to her.

She takes it. "That's right – you're leaving … Monday?"

"Wednesday, actually," I correct. The original plan had been for me to leave Saturday, but that had changed when the people in the firm in San Antonio I just got hired at offered me some relocation assistance if I could be out there a few days early. "I wasn't expecting to see you, and then you didn't answer the door" I add, patting the note in my pocket.

She nods. "Yeah. I was here. Matt's friends sometimes knock on the door at night, and if he's not here to get it, I'm sure as hell not gonna. But I looked out the window and saw it was you. And I needed to throw on the robe," she adds. "I'm kinda naked."

"Uh huh," I reply, a little disgusted and, oddly enough, a little aroused. Admittedly, I shouldn't be surprised that it was arousing; Jocelyn's in her mid-to-late-twenties – only a year and some change older than me – and keeps herself in pretty good shape. Plus, she's always been cute. But I'm a little disgusted because … well … this is my cousin we're talking about.

She stands on her toes – Jocelyn's about a foot shorter than I – and leans in to whisper conspiratorially, "Trevor was kind of … using me."

I think it's meant to be an explanation, but I didn't really want one. Jocelyn, by the way, is a submissive, or what you could call a sub if you prefer. I've known this for a while; Jocelyn and I have always been friends-close if not siblings-close, and so I've always tried to be supportive of her being what she is. Somebody's got to be.

Right now, all I can do is shake my head. "Jesus, you are a whore," I mutter under my breath, my sense of support for her momentarily gone. Being supportive doesn't necessarily mean you want to know the details – something Jocelyn hasn't always understood, to my occasional consternation.

"Yeah. I am," she answers, a blush coming to her freckled cheeks. She says it a little bit excitedly.

I pause for a moment. "Wait a minute," I start. "He was … you were doing whatever you do … and I knocked … and you answered the door … naked, in a robe … and not him?"

She nods. "He likes that. Especially if it's someone I'm related to."

"Christ" is all I can mutter. "You are such … my God …"

She blushes again, a little more red, and it hits me. "This is getting you wet, isn't it? From me – your kin – seeing you as a whore."

"Uh huh," Jocelyn answers quietly.

I shake my head, unable to say anything. I should really get going. I gave her back the book. I've said hello to her, and now I'll say goodbye. But then my inner devil – oh, yes, I have one; do I ever – takes a hold of me, and I say, "Let me feel."

Her eyes go a little wide. "You wanna touch my pussy?" She says it incredulously, not disgustedly. I think she should shut the door in my face, never talk to me again. But she just stands there, waiting for my answer.

I nod, trying to seem casual, wondering what the hell I'm getting myself into. "I feel like I ought to, what with me being the reason for it. Don't you agree?"

Jocelyn nods a little timidly, and opens her robe a little and spreads her legs slightly. There she is, standing in the doorway of her apartment, exposing a bald pussy to the world. I look around but don't see anybody going or coming. So I reach out and put one hand on it to find it already warm and wet enough to build an ark. I use my two outer fingers to spread apart her labia and keep them open, and slide my two middle fingers inside her pussy; Jocelyn closes her eyes and shivers, and then opens her mouth a little. I move my fingers in and out a little to see if she'll moan, and she obliges me with a soft, quietly erotic sound.

I use my thumb and rub her clitoris in a gentle circular motion. Jocelyn opens her mouth a little wider and trembles, clutching the door jamb for support. My inner devil eggs me on and I change direction, rubbing up and down and then across in a sort of cross pattern; I change my pattern back to a circle, and then just keep moving it to see what responses I get. She moans again, in a long, unbroken song of pleasure; she starts panting a little bit and her moan sounds a little bit like a puppy; she makes shorter, louder, rhythmic sounds that start to remind me of my lessons in wavelength and frequency from college.

My two fingers still moving back and forth inside her, the frequency of those last sounds begins to diminish and the wavelength increases as I move my thumb faster and more irregularly. Lost in the moment, I want her to orgasm for me. I experience this rush that comes with control, suddenly understanding what Trevor must feel; Jocelyn isn't touching herself or anything, leaving it up to me to decide how far her pleasure goes.

My fingers moving with a typist's speed and a surgeon's precision, or so I tell myself, I lean in and whisper, "Come."

Breathing hard, moaning, trembling like a leaf, she obliges me perfectly.

She stays standing, albeit shakily, by clutching the door jamb as I remove my hand from her wet pussy. She catches her breath, she flushes crimson and smiles at me. "Um … you can wipe that on my robe," she says quietly, gesturing to my sticky hand and holding out a baggy sleeve.

"Hey, Jocelyn? Who's at the door?" I hear a masculine voice coming from upstairs.

"It's just Nate," she calls back, her voice warbling a little. A moment later I hear footsteps, and then Trevor appears in the doorway wearing a t-shirt and boxers.

"Oh. Hey, Nate. How's it going, man?" I'd met Trevor before a few times. He seems like a pretty decent guy, and Jocelyn sure seems to love him. Until now, I'd never fully understood their relationship; I think I do a little more now.

"Hey, Trevor. It's … going …" I answer hesitantly. I looked at Jocelyn, who was standing in the doorway, smiling at me with freckled dimples and face still flushed, and looked at him. I knew what I had just done, but now the surrealism of the situation was catching up to me.

"Good to hear it." Trevor replies.

"He brought back my book," Jocelyn explains to him, looking up. Taller than me, Trevor stands over a foot taller than Jocelyn.

"That's great." Trevor looks down at Jocelyn, who can't stop smiling. "What's up?" He hesitates, glancing from me to her. "Did he touch you?" he asks surreptitiously.

Jocelyn nods enthusiastically, and Trevor looks perplexed. After a moment, his eyes widen and he looks at me, a little shocked, then back to her, and then at me again. "Aw, man. You made her come, didn't you?" He says it in a tone reminiscent of a friend whose favorite lamp I just broke, not of someone whose girlfriend has just been felt by her cousin.

Taken aback, I nod slowly. Jocelyn looks up at Trevor adoringly. "It was really good," she says with a childish giggle.

Trevor looks at me; he doesn't look angry, like I'd expect, but a little disappointed. "She's not allowed to come without permission, so I've been teasing her all night." He looks down at her with the same disappointed look. "But now she has."

"He did tell me to," Jocelyn pipes up impishly.

Trevor swats her on the backside, though I can't imagine it smarts terribly through the robe, then looks at me. "You watch your mouth," he says sternly. Jocelyn promptly closes her mouth and snuggles against him.

I nod. "It's true. I did tell her." And here the inner devil takes control again. "Although, she never told me she wasn't allowed to."

Jocelyn looks at me astonished, mouth agape. "Why you —" She smiles angrily.

Trevor looks down at her, then looks at me with a broad smile. "Well, then, she's been a bad girl. Look: since you've already taken it this far, do you want to step inside and teach her a lesson? I'd be honored if you did, you being her family and all."

Inner devil in control, I nod. "Sure thing." Trevor and Jocelyn step inside, and I follow; Jocelyn glares daggers at me, but I don't care at this point. I follow them into their living room area and Trevor takes a seat on the couch with Jocelyn curled up at his feet. I sit down on the couch, too. "So," I ask a little bit delicately. "What do you … do … in this situation?"

Trevor nods, somehow reminding me of a teacher. "Well, for coming without permission, usually I give that slutty pussy of hers a paddling. I've got a special paddle for that that works really well." Jocelyn whimpers, looking from Trevor to me with a mix of fear and excitement. "But," Trevor continues, "in this case, since she didn't tell you she wasn't allowed to come, I think she deserves that plus a little something more."

"You have something in mind?"

Trevor nods again, this time smiling like a man with a plan. "I do. But first, let's give her a good pussy paddling." He stands up and runs upstairs, leaving me and Jocelyn alone for a moment.

Even with him gone, Jocelyn doesn't get off the floor; she looks at me excitedly. "Do you know what he's going to do to you?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "No, but I've got a good idea." A smile splits her face from ear to ear. "I'm glad it's you doing this, Nate," she tells me. "This is gonna be really exciting."

"Do you two do … this … a lot?" I ask, a little afraid of the answer.

"Not much," Jocelyn answers. "Most of the time I just answer the door, naked under the robe. People see a little more flesh than they were expecting and go on their way. But if they want to touch me or do something to me, I have to let them. Trevor says it's to teach me humility."

I nod, beginning to understand. "The ones that do touch you – do they make you come?"

She shakes her head vigorously. "You're the first."

Trevor comes back with a plastic stool and a little black bag. He sets the stool down in the middle of the living room; Jocelyn immediately stands up, slips the robe off, and sits on the edge of the stool with legs spread wide enough to bare her clitoris to the world.. Once more, I see her bald pussy, and now I see her trim little stomach and small but very real breasts, crimson nipples hard and pebbly. I can see the Oriental-style fish tattoo on her ankle, and the nipple piercing she's never shown me. It's the first time I've ever seen my cousin naked, or that I've ever really wanted to, and I drink in the sight of her.

Seeing me, Jocelyn blushes hot and I see her thighs move; I think she wants to close her legs, but she doesn't.

Trevor, meanwhile, sets the black bag down on the coffee table and takes out a white piece of plastic that looks something like a round kitchen spatula with a particularly long handle; I conclude this must be the special paddle he had mentioned. The hitting surface of it has little holes cut out for maximum velocity. I pick the thing up and give it a few flicks in the air. The handle seems solid, though the plastic is surprisingly light and springy, so that it whizzes through the air with a sound as sharp as I imagine its contact would be. I set it down and look at Jocelyn with a grin, and say, "I'm glad it's you getting hit with that thing and not me."

"Gee, thanks, Nate," she says sarcastically.

Trevor takes out a little block of wood wrapped in leather; Jocelyn automatically opens her mouth. Trevor puts the bit in her mouth and takes up the paddle. "Usually," he explains casually, "I find the best angle for this is to stand behind her and paddle downward. Do you want to do it first, or me?"

I look at the paddle, then at him, then at Jocelyn. "You show me how it's done," I answer. I sit down on the edge of the couch, ready for my first lesson in paddling my cousin's pussy.

Trevor stands right behind Jocelyn and puts one hand on her un-pierced breast, squeezing it and rolling the nipple between his fingers. "You want to get your balance like this," Trevor continues to explain. With the other hand, he brings the paddle down to touch her pussy, then raises it up about a foot away, and then brings it back down with a forceful smack.

Jocelyn closes her eyes and cries out through the bit, but keeps her legs spread. "The plastic is fairly whippy, so if you hold the handle at the end and put some wrist into it, you'll get a lot more force in your smack." He paddles again, and again, and again. After a few moments, I lose track of how many times Jocelyn's pussy has been smacked, though her labia and clitoris are looking particularly red and tender now.

After a minute, he stands and hands me the paddle. To her credit, Jocelyn's legs are still spread, and I wonder briefly how much disciplining was required to achieve that effect. I grab the paddle and take the same position that Trevor had, though I grab the pierced breast and rub its soft flesh. Jocelyn makes a little moaning sound and I whisper into her ear, "Whore." She nods, humiliated but acknowledging, as I position the paddle above her pussy, take as precise an aim to her clitoris as I can eyeball, and smack.

Smack. Smack. Smack. The sound of the plastic hitting her tender flesh is almost enchanting, as is the feel of her naked back leaning against me as she tries just a little to inch herself away from the punishing tool.

I don't keep track of how many times I abuse my cousin's whorish pussy, but after a minute or two, I stop. Jocelyn is breathing hard again and tears are running down her cheeks, but still her legs are spread. By now, I imagine, it's probably less painful that way. I brush her cheek and smile, and, through the bit still in her mouth, she smiles back.

I sit back down and just look at her as she leans back, writhing in pain that to her is pleasure. Trevor stands up and takes the bit out of her mouth. "Tell your cousin how much you appreciate his attention to your slutty flesh," he orders.

Jocelyn smiles with tearstained, freckled dimples. "Thanks for paddling my pussy, Nate. I know I'm a worthless slut and that I need people better than me to punish me for being what I am." Part of it seems like rote recital – something she's said a million times before for Trevor's entertainment – but she says it with such apparent sincerity that part of me thinks she's telling the honest truth.

Trevor looks at me. "For not telling you she wasn't allowed to come, I'd thought about making her suck you dry. Or, I suppose, if you wanted her ass, I couldn't say no. Does that sound reasonable, or is there something else you'd prefer?" He asks it like a waiter telling me the sides my meal comes with.

I'm not willing to push my luck and try to think of a just punishment on my own; despite being her my cousin, and temporarily my toy, I bear in mind that Trevor and Jocelyn see my cousin as Trevor's property. Still and all, I answer, "I'll fuck her mouth if I can shoot my load onto her face. Otherwise, I think I'll take the ass, instead."

Trevor shakes his head amiably and grins. "She hates facials. So – by all means, proceed. Hell, I've made her sponge bathe in mine before."

Something in me shakes, and I raise an eyebrow. "I didn't need to know that." Jocelyn is, after all, still my cousin.

Trevor holds up an apologetic hand. "Sorry. Do as thou wilt."

I stand in front of Jocelyn, who's looking up at me with the same adoration I've seen her show Trevor. "I really do hate facials," she says with a broad smile.

"Great," I reply. I look down expectantly. "Do you mind getting it out for me?"

Jocelyn leans forward and undoes my jeans. She slides them down with my boxers, so that my entire package is in front of her face. I don't know how I stack up against Trevor, but right now, I feel ten feet long. It's been hard for a while now, and a little bit of pre-come drips from the head. With one hand, I wave it across her face, giving her freckled cheeks a trail of semen.

While sitting on the stool, my waist is just a little above her head, and so she has to look up at me to put her mouth on my cock. Jocelyn puts her lips around the head and I have to struggle not to shoot my load there and then. Her lips are slick and her mouth is warm, and she moves her mouth all the way down the shaft to take the whole thing in. She doesn't just suck like a vacuum, but alternates licking it and kissing it – as well as alternating gazing up at me and focusing on my cock in her mouth – like a professional. She moves her lips down the scrotum and takes one ball, and then the other, in her mouth, before licking along the entire length of the shaft again. I don't stop to wonder how much practice with how many different recipients she's had. I put one hand on her head and grind her against my cock viciously back and forth, and she responds admirably before I let go and let her resume her work.

Jocelyn's good at what she does. I stay hard and well cared-for by her mouth for several minutes, until I finally decide to be done with it. Putting my hand back on her head, I pull her mouth off my cock and take my piece in the other hand. I rub it slightly and release myself on her face violently. Streams of white goo cover her mouth, chin, and cheeks. I finish by putting some on her nose like the whipped cream on a sundae. Jocelyn, good little submissive that she is, carefully licks my cock clean and puts my boxers and jeans back on me.

Trevor looks at me with a pride I still find a little strange. "Satisfied?"

I can't help but not be. "I must say, it's been an interesting visit." I go out on a limb by adding, "We'll have to do it again some time."

Trevor beams. "We'd both really appreciate that." He turns to Jocelyn; she's still sitting on the stool, her pussy's still red, her face is still covered in semen. "Jocelyn, what do you say to your cousin?"

Jocelyn smiles. "Thanks for using me, Nate! And thanks for returning the book!"