|
Cousin Carol
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
COUSIN CAROL
My cousin, Carol, is four years older than I am. When we were
growing up, she lived right down the street. My folks and hers -- my
aunt and uncle (my mother's sister and her husband) -- have always been
very good friends, doing all kinds of things together. When they went
out in the evening, Carol always stayed over at my house, because her
room was full of dolls and playhouses and I had a double-decker bunk
bed (I got the top bunk).
When we were really young, some older woman would sit for us and I
don't remember much about her. By the time I was five years old (and
Carol was nine), our parents had teenagers sitting us. I remember so
many good times we had, fooling the sitters into letting us drink sodas
and watch TV, playing board games with endless changes in the rules to
match our whims, building elaborate "forts" of furniture and blankets
...
But, for purposes of this narrative, the story really begins one
night when one of our sitters let her boyfriend come over to visit
while she was taking care of me and Carol.
I was six years old and Carol was ten. Our sitter that night,
Susan, was about 19 years old and was kind of funny-looking, I thought.
Although she was skinny everywhere else, she had a huge chest, which
she emphasized with tight sweaters and tight jeans. I was too young to
be affected in any sexual way then, but I realize now she projected a
sluttish image. In retrospect, I'm surprised my parents let her sit for
us. Maybe she charged less than other sitters.
Susan sat for me and Carol several times, and was always nice
enough, letting us watch R-rated movies with her on cable TV and making
us big bowls of popcorn.
On this fateful night, however, our folks were going to a racetrack
across the state line, and were staying there overnight. Susan tried
to rush us off to bed early, but we insisted on staying up to see a
scary movie. About 11, the doorbell rang and Susan swore us to secrecy
before letting her boyfriend in. He was obviously annoyed at seeing us
there, and made enough rude comments that we scurried up to bed as soon
as the movie was over. We could hear the music from my folks' stereo
begin to play pretty loud. Susan tucked us into bed perfunctorily and
hurried back to the family room.
I was ready to go to sleep, and was a little worried about the
dreams I might have as a result of the horror movie we had just seen.
But Carol wasn't ready.
"Let's go spy on Susan," she whispered from the bottom bunk. "I bet
they're making out."
I agreed readily. This was the kind of trick we enjoyed playing on
our sitters. We quietly opened the door to my room and crept down the
hall.
We really didn't have to be quiet, though, because the music coming
from the family room was very loud. As we peeked around the corner, we
both at first thought the room was empty. But then we spotten Susan
and her boyfriend writhing on the floor. Clothes were all over the
room. Susan's sweater was lying by the fireplace and her boyfriend was
down to his boxer shorts. They were locked in a total-bodylock embrace
on the carpet in front of the couch. Carol and I had front-row seats!
"See?" she whispered. "I told you they'd be making out!"
Making ourselves comfortable, we stretched out on our bellies in the
hall, beyond the faint light projected by the single lamp that was
still shining at its lowest setting.
Back in the family room, Susan's boyfriend had managed to disengage
the industrial-strength fasteners on her bra. Released from their
confines, Susan's huge breasts puddled back into mountains of flesh, as
she lay there on her back. Her boyfriend tossed the bra back toward
the couch and lowered his head to her chest. With his mouth removed
from hers, we quickly understood why the stereo was playing so loudly
-- Susan was moaning and groaning and breathlessly telling him how good
he was making her feel.
"God, Terry, I'm burning up. Suck my nipples! Run your tongue all
over my boobs. Bite my nips!" Her boyfriend tried to follow her
instructions, but it was clear he would have had to have help to do it
all.
Carol leaned over to me. "Look at his shorts," she whispered.
I had been paying attention to the heaving mounds projecting from
the chest of my babysitter, glistening in the lamplight with her
boyfriend's saliva. Now I looked where my cousin indicated and saw the
beefy end of his prick sticking out the opening in the front of his
boxers.
"This is going to be neat!" said Carol.
Susan's muttering and groaning was getting louder, and now I could
see that her boyfriend had his hand down the front of her panties and
was moving his arm in a rhythmic motion. His hips had also adopted a
rhythm of their own, as he rubbed the head of his cock against the
outside of her thigh. Suddenly he stood up and spoke.
"I've got to fuck you now, before your hot talk and sexy bod make me
cum on the carpet."
As he yanked down his shorts, Susan squirmed out of her underpants
too. I didn't know where to look. His throbbing prick looked huge to
me (though now I realize its size was probably pretty ordinary). The
patch of hair at the bottom of Susan's belly was not much to see, but I
stared nonetheless.
As soon as she tossed her filmy panties aside, Susan spread her legs
and put both hands in her crotch. "Jeez, Terry!" she said. "You look
so hot standing there showing me your big dick! Let's suck each other
first and then you can fuck me. That way you don't have to wear a
rubber for your first cum."
Beside me, Carol moved into a sitting position. When I glanced over
at her, I began to burn with a new heat. My young cousin had removed
her pajama bottoms and was rubbing her hand between her legs while she
watched the action in the den. When she noticed me looking at her, she
gave me a big grin and spread her legs even wider so I could see. The
light wasn't very good, but I could tell she was digging her fingertips
deep into the furrow between the hairless lips of her little pussy.
When Carol turned her attention back to the family room, so did I.
Terry was lowering his head between our sitter's outstretched thighs
as his rigid prick descended toward her waiting lips. Susan's moaning
and groaning was muffled once more as she slurped up her boyfriend's
stiff six inches. In fact, there wasn't much to see, with the two
teenagers' heads buried in each other's crotches. The wet sounds of
their sucking could barely be heard over the booming stereo.
I turned my head to look again at Carol and was greeted with an
up-close look at her widespread crotch. Carol had leaned over on her
side, away from me, so the leg on the carpet projected toward my head
and her other knee was cocked vertically. Her right hand continued its
rapid back-and-forth movement in the wet valley of her pussy. I found
myself grinding my hips into the carpet, increasing the nice feeling in
my stiff little peter. But then the sound effects started again in the
family room.
"Yes! Suck on my clit like that! I'm gonna get my cum! Bite my
lips! Stick your tongue all the way inside of me! Ungh! Ohh!
Arrrrr...." Susan babbled away as she humped her pelvis against her
boyfriend's swiveling face. Unnoticed, his slimy prick slithered
across her face and stabbed at her hair. With legs thrown wide, Susan
wrenched her head backwards against the carpet and grunted repeatedly.
If she hadn't kept babbling about good it felt, I would have thought
her boyfriend was torturing her.
In the dim light, Terry raised his head from Susan's crotch and
turned to kneel with his legs on either side of her head. Levering his
dick downward, he guided it into her panting mouth and began pistoning
it deep into her throat. Susan began breathing noisily through her
nose as she sucked and slurped his throbbing rod. I noticed she also
had both hands busily working at the juncture of her thighs.
In only a few moments, Terry grabbed the back of her head and
started pulling her mouth all the way onto his cock. That was
apparently too much for Susan, but her boyfriend was oblivious to her
distress. As she tried to push him away, he moved his hips rapidly,
only releasing her head when he threw back his own to bay his orgasm.
Susan spit the slab of meat out of her mouth so she could breathe,
but reached up to stroke the repeated squirts of juice out of his cock
and all over her face. Her other hand returned to her own love-nest,
restoring the rhythm of her hips as she worked her lover's still-rigid
cock above her glazed eyes.
Suddenly, Carol leaned over and whispered to me, "Let's go back to
the bedroom."
I wanted to stay and watch some more, feeling not only clever at
spying on our sitter, but also fascinated by the animal behavior I was
seeing. But I didn't want to be caught either, and I responded to my
older cousin's entreaty by hurrying along behind her. I thought it was
funny that she was carrying her pajama bottoms in her hand and her pale
bare bottom glowed before me as we went back to my room.
As I started to climb into my top bunk, Carol said, "Show me yours.
I showed you mine."
I was a little unsure about this. It was one thing to spy on
teenagers, but it seemed extra naughty to be showing my female cousin
the little piece of flesh that was so mysteriously stiff right then.
But, as I hesitated on the bunk-bed ladder, Carol decided things for
both of us by reaching through the rungs to extract my rigid pencil
from my pajama fly. Her cool fingers felt so good that I let her go
ahead.
After grasping and releasing my prick several times, Carol said,
"Come on down and sit on the bed with me. I'll let you touch mine
too."
It seemed entirely natural somehow that I would step out of my
pajama bottoms and throw them on the top bunk. Carol sat primly on the
edge of the bed, with her knees together and only a pale triangle of
flesh at the bottom of her belly. I noticed the slit I had seen
earlier was hidden at the bottom of her lap.
As I sat down beside her, Carol opened her legs a bit and took my
hand, guiding it between her thighs. When my fingertips touched flesh,
she let go and returned to her exploration of my little-boy cock.
Imitating the motion she had recently demonstrated, I rubbed my fingers
up and down the front of her little furrow. In response, my cousin
opened her legs wider, so I could begin to feel the damper flesh inside
her downy outer lips.
Without warning, Carol ducked her head into my lap and took my
little stick into her mouth. I had thought that her fingers had felt
good, but her mouth was clearly superior. I realize now that she knew
nothing about cock-sucking technique, but the candy-stick analogy was
good enough to get her started and give me plenty of pleasure.
After a while, however, the feelings began to get less intense, and
I just got sleepy. In addition, the level of music in the family room
got lower and we became afraid that Susan would come in and catch us.
Carol and I swore to each other that we would never tell anyone about
our sex-play, climbed back into our pajamas and went to sleep.
The End.
----------------------------------------------------
If you liked this story and would like to see more,
call Texas Open Forum! at
903-534-1918 (1:3801/1 or 69:69:305)
Home of the FAMILY_AFFAIRS echo conference
and T H O U S A N D S of .TXT files!
----------------------------------------------------
|
|
