Yes to Heaven

A/N - In India, a relationship with a first cousin is also considered incestuous. As a result, this work falls into the incest/taboo category.

This is a ero-romantic work of fiction. Enjoy!

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During one scorching summer, my family visited hers. And since then, every summer breeze has become the harbinger of her memories.

Her father (my maternal uncle) came to pick us up from the airport. It was somewhat of a long ride, with the nearest airport being sixty kilometers from their home. The transition between the city and village was prominent for all of my senses. My eyes started to see the verdant patches stretching up to the horizon, fresh air opening all the pores on my skin, the ever-forgiving trees on either side of the road allowing filtered sunlight upon us, and my heart, which suddenly seemed to pick up the pace the closer I got to her.

My aunt came out to welcome us. She side-hugged my father but grabbed my mother in her warm embrace. They both squealed like a pair of friends meeting after a long time.

But my eyes sought her, and I found her standing by the gate, smiling to herself. My aunt soon blocked my vision to praise my growth and health. By the time she moved aside, she was gone. As my father and her father carried the luggage into the rooms, we were ushered in and sat on the living room couch.

She appeared from the kitchen, carrying tall glasses of chill orange juice. I could not keep my eyes to myself, seeing her in a cotton black and white plaid dress with her hair tied half up and half down, she looked like a summertime dream. She hastily placed the serving tray before my mother jumped on her, squeezing the life out of her frail frame and complimenting her appearance, just as her mother had done to me. She blushed violently, with her ears turning red and her lips curling in a tight smile. I could not hold back my smile either. She hasn't change much...the same innocent pair of eyes, the same benevolent smile, and the same elegant aura.

Our fathers exited the room and took seats, drinking the juice. Adults went on talking and laughing, occasionally throwing questions at us. But I could only find reasons to look at her. She was sitting on the arm of the chair her father occupied, one foot firmly on the ground and the other hanging effortlessly. A half-finished glass in her hand, which she kept pressing to her lips. My gaze was drawn to her delicate feet and ankles. I traced her legs, pausing briefly at her waist before meeting her gaze. She held it for a few seconds before letting go. She began collecting everyone's empty glasses and disappeared into the kitchen.

We had about an hour before dinner to freshen up. I was given the room of her elder brother, who was living in the city with his wife. The room was small but spacious, with a double bed. I unpacked only enough to get at my toiletries and nightwear. After taking a hot shower, I walked downstairs to eat my dinner.

The moment my aunt saw me, she asked me to call her daughter down. And without a moment of hesitation, I climbed back up and crossed my new room to reach hers.

Her door was open, and she was lying on a small couch facing the opposite wall. Her long hair gently swept the ground, and her chest rose up and down ever so slowly. I'm not sure how long I waited there, transfixed by her effortless beauty, looking at her, or, for lack of a better term, "gawking" at her. With her left knee braced up and her right leg straight on the opposite armrest, her dress was bunched up at her pelvis, exposing her creamy thighs. She was immersed in a book that she held in right hand, and her left fingers gently went up and down the naked thigh.

I finally knocked on the door, and her head jerked up.

She awkwardly adjusted the hem of her dress and placed the book on her lap. Her eyes looked at me expectantly, and I told her that she was being called to have dinner.

She cleared her throat and stated that she would need a minute or two.

I walked back down and relayed the message.

~

I was lying on the bed, still tired from the trip and feeling dizzy from the heat, while our parents went to take a walk down the road. My senses were painfully aware of her presence in the house, alone with me.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a nap, but instead, I started recalling how we used to play together, fighting over and sharing our toys. We were inseparable, nose-deep in our little fantasies. But as I grew older, I became more aware of my thoughts and the social norms that weakened the bond we used to share. I say "we" because she was the one who first distanced herself from me. Maybe she started having her thoughts before me.

Suddenly, her voice jolted me up from my daze.

"I am sorry; I didn't mean to startle you," she apologized, looking genuinely concerned.

"No, I wasn't sleeping," I said, adjusting my t-shirt and wiping my face with my damp palm.

She smiled.

"I was cutting up a watermelon," she murmured. "Would you like some?"

"Sure," I said and immediately took my steps towards her.

Suddenly, we found ourselves in newfound proximity when she didn't move in time. We used to be the same height and stature, but now her head stops at my chest and her frame is much more delicate than mine. She turned around and began to walk. I followed suit.

Once in the kitchen, she went to the counter, on which stood an oval watermelon next to a chef's knife. I stood by her side as she sliced the melon in half with the knife. Stealthily, I placed my hand on her waist just as the melon cracked with a delicious crack. Her hand stopped dead, and her eyes locked on the blank wall before her. Unable to hold it any longer, I leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss on her temple.

I removed my hand and watched her body relax, and her hands resumed cutting the melon.

~

That evening, I went to her room under the pretense of asking for a book to read. And as if having Deja Vu, I found her in the same position on her couch. I called out her name by the door and got an identical response. If it weren't for a different dress, I would have believed I was dreaming.

"I wanted a book to read."

"Sure, come in," This time she wasn't flustered.

I stepped into her room for the first time. Standing by the door, one would see the couch, the windows, and a partial view of her bed but the moment one would enter the room, they would become aware of the massive dark wood bookshelves housing hundreds of books.

"What genre are you looking for?"

"I don't know. Anything small and..."

"Chill?"

"Yeah," I swallowed.

She eyed her middle shelf traveling to the very end of the row when she swiftly pulled out a book and handed it to me.

"You can't take it with you. Read it before your stay ends here," She said dead serious but then a smile crept on her face.

I let out a sigh of relief that only turned her smile into a laugh.

I leafed through the book to find it filled with annotations, doodles, and uncountable dog ears. I could not help but smile realizing she had handed me one of her favorite books. Then I felt the sweetest of kisses on my cheek.

I placed the book on top of some books before grabbing her by her waist and pulling her in for a kiss. There was no resistance. As swiftly as a bird, she was in my arms, her hands pressed against my taut chest. A thousand thoughts that clouded my mind blew away during that passionate kiss we shared. That kiss made me realize how deprived and parched I was. We were kids again, sneaking our first kiss under the shade of a banyan tree.

Her lips were exactly how I thought they would be--soft and moist. She broke the kiss, and I saw the most honest smile appear on her lips. I craved more, but she gently distanced herself from me. I pulled her closer and concealed my face in the curve of her neck. Kissing the most silky skin below her jaw, I made my way up, gently tugging and nibbling at her small ear. Her cascading hair veiled my face, and I drew in as much of her scent as I could, intoxicating myself. It felt like if I continued to kiss her there, I would melt away.

My sexual urges were getting hold of me, and I kept squeezing her waist, pressing her body against mine. When her benign protest dawned on me, I collapsed on her fragile frame. She held my broad shoulder in her delicate embrace, and we stood there for a long time, after which I left.

~

The next day, I took every chance not to see her. I started taking trips with my mother and aunt, sometimes with our fathers, to help them with shopping and any chores where they wanted my help.

Was I feeling guilty? Was I guilty? Was it wrong? Probably. But...

For three consecutive days, I stared blankly at the ceiling and daydreamed about her, feeling how I felt when I held her so close and remembering how her body melted under my touch. On the third night, though, a knock pulled me out of my reverie, and I quickly averted my gaze toward the clock: 3:17 a.m.

I took a hurried step and opened the door to see her standing there, a book pressed to her chest.

"You forgot this book in my room," she said so slowly that I almost didn't hear her. Even a fool could tell why she was there in the first place.

I pulled her in by her wrist and shut the door behind her.

"You are making me feel so-"

"-helpless?" She snatched my word from me. "I am sorry, I will leave,"

She shoved the book against my chest, which I caught just in time, and started to open the door.

"Stay," I said, tossing the book on the study table.

She turned around, but her gaze remained fixed on the floor. I hooked my finger under her chin and made her gaze meet mine. A shiver went down my spine when I eased the distance between us to kiss her small lips. I left her lips momentarily, only to see a peculiar expression on her face. She was blushing like a new bride and dainty as a freshly blossomed flower. I picked her up and carried her to my bed.

I sat by her side, staring at her, as she lay on my bed with her head on my pillow. She raised her hand and gently nodded for me to come to her. And I allowed myself to feel the fervor of her hug, like a cold animal seeking warmth. I went along with her as she shifted, making room for me by her side. At the time, I wished our reality was different and less complicated.

After a while, I took off my clothes, and she too got up to do so. I helped her out of her nightgown, and she was left in her silk camisole and nothing else.

I laid her down and got between her legs.

She kissed my neck and shoulder as I slipped my hands inside her camisole, fondling the folds of her skin. In my insatiable thirst, I locked my lips with hers. I snaked my arms around her body, touching her smooth back, feeling her soft thighs, and allowing my hands to lose control.

"I want you, please," she whispered in my ear as if praying to God.

"Oh, I want you too," I moaned against her lips.

When I tried to put my finger in her, she stopped me from doing so.

"I trust you," she cooed in my ear.

She held my length in her hand and aligned its tip with her womanhood. A tremble made me keenly aware of what I was going to do. With her eyes shut, she guided me until I was halfway in.

"Am I hurting you?" I asked, looking at her pained expression.

She opened her eyes and, as if in a daze, shook her head. She let go of me and wrapped her arms around shoulder.

I pushed the rest of me inside her. Burying her face in my chest and she moaned in pain. I pulled it out and put it back in. I did it a couple of times to ease her up, but I stopped moving when I felt something wet against my bare chest.

I held her face and forced her to look at me. Her tear-smeared face smiled back at me. I kissed her eyes and licked away those tears from her cheeks.

With our bodies united in that delightful mess, I wished nothing more than to share her beautiful soul with mine. I needed to feel that she wanted me too, and she showed it to me. I wanted her to feel that I was willing to keep her, but I did not know if I was able to convey that to her. And even if she perceived me, I knew she would not keep me.

What started with slow and slower thrusts soon turned rough, and I marked every inch of her skin in my drunken stupor. Her delightful moans, lighthearted laughs, and silvery cries got lodged in my heart and mind, which I kept rewinding as I saw her swaying slowly in a dreamy white dress in the arms of another man.

Who was I calling another man? I was the other man.

Suddenly, there were people everywhere watching her dance hand in hand with her husband. I see my aunt leaning against my uncle and looking endearingly at both of them. Her gaze momentarily fell on me, and I returned it with a smile.

I felt my mother squeezing my shoulder as we all watched her beam with happiness, saying yes to heaven.

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Yours, Imaaya <3