In Lust with My Cousin

I knew it was wrong the moment he kissed me, and probably even before that too, but I couldn't help myself—and I kind of didn't want to. Maybe there was something in the air, or maybe I could blame the alcohol, but I'd be lying if said that hadn't always been an attraction between Scotty and me. Growing up it had been a playful one, and because we lived on opposite coasts and were nearly three years apart, it never mattered. When we saw each other—usually at family functions—we'd laugh and joke around, maybe even flirt a little bit, but that was all.

And it could never be more than that because not only was Scotty older than me, but we were also related—second or third cousins—something like that. (His dad is my dad's first cousin, so however the family tree thing works is how we're related.) But I'd always secretly crushed on Scotty, and would often check him out. Why wouldn't I? Just because we're related doesn't mean I don't have eyes. All the girls check him out, especially when he takes his shirt off or comes in from a run. Scotty's tall, like 6'2", gorgeous, has a great body with rock-hard abs and a smile to die for. Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending how you look at it—it seemed that whenever we were together it was somewhere hot with a pool, and he'd be walking around in board shorts with no shirt like ninety percent of the time. It was nice to look at, but sometimes made me a little uncomfortable with how much I enjoyed looking.

If Scotty wasn't my cousin I'd be in love—or at least lust. And I think Scotty knew it, and he always flirted with me, complimenting me on how I looked and whatever I was wearing, especially if it was a little too little. The flirting sometimes went overboard—Scotty would slap my ass when I was wearing a bikini or I'd call him my boy toy while riding on his shoulders in the pool—and it felt weird, but we both knew it was harmless and we'd never go further.

This particular family function was a religious, coming-of-age celebration for one of Scotty's nephews (his older brother's kid). Our family tended to make big deals out of everything, even things that didn't need to be, and that was never more evident than when it involved Michael. He was Scotty's older brother, and the first born of our generation along the family tree, and because of that he was treated like he walked on water and could do no wrong. I never understood the obsession with Michael—from my viewpoint he was just a self-obsessed jerk not smart enough to hold the position as future family patriarch—and the only one who seemed to agree with me was Scotty. When we were together we often talked about the insanity of it all, and then laughed about it.

This event was one of the few held in the cold, at a hotel resort complex in Pennsylvania, about an hour north of where my dad grew up in Philadelphia. While most of Scotty's family events were held closer to home on the west coast, but when Michael was promoted to run the Philly office of my dad's company he and his family settled in there.

It was cold and snowy, so it was a good thing the hotel was top of the line and there were things to do, because otherwise it would have been incredibly boring. However, most of our time was taken up by "events" that were scheduled. We had a dinner Friday night, a church service and then a luncheon Saturday, followed by dinner and a party Saturday evening. Brunch was scheduled for Sunday but not everyone would stay for it. I would have given anything to get out of it, the whole thing. If we weren't suffering through awful food—totally vegan, all the way...if you liked anything else you were beneath the hosts—then we'd be listening to that self-righteous, pretentious a-hole (Michael) preach about how great he and his family are, and how terrible the rest of us are.

After church Saturday morning and then the lunch service I'd had about enough. (At least during lunch I was able to sneak a few glasses of wine, and by the time I left I was more than a little tipsy.) The only redeeming thing about the first twenty-four hours was the hotel room, which was one of the nicest I've ever stayed in. It was huge, with a balcony overlooking the entire courtyard, an amazingly comfortable bed and a bathroom to die for. It had a jetted jacuzzi tub large enough to swim in, a glass-enclosed marble shower and heated floors. And the best part? It was all mine. Even though I had only recently turned eighteen—or because I had recently turned eighteen—my dad let me have my own room, and it was four floors away from his. It was private and wonderful.

Once I was able to sneak away from lunch I went upstairs, stripped off the dress I wore for church and slipped into the hotel's bathrobe. It too was luxurious and comfortable, and I would have easily been able to fall asleep inside that thing. Our next event—dinner and a party—wasn't scheduled for another four hours, leaving plenty of tim to veg; I planned to spend it lying on the couch watching TV and ordering something decent from room service. (I thought about checking out the minibar and adding to my buzz from lunch, but didn't want to have to explain that bill to my dad.)

Before getting into what happened between Scotty and me, a little background on me. My name's Lauren, as I said I recently turned eighteen (almost two weeks before that weekend). I'm an only child and I grew up in upstate New York (about forty minutes from the city) with my dad. My mom died when I was two, and I don't really remember her much if at all. But I've lived a great life. I have a lot of friends, have gotten to travel and have enjoyed myself. I've never "acted out" but never really needed to; my dad tried overcompensating for me not having a mother by letting me do basically whatever I wanted. I never experimented with drugs, and not with alcohol until later, but I did start sex a little too young. (A shrink would probably say it was because I didn't have a mother I started having sex when I did, but nonetheless I was reasonably experienced by the time I ended up in that hotel room.)

Anyway I was finally relaxed and comfortable when a loud knock on the door startled me. My first thought was to ignore whoever it was, that they'd go away, but when they kept knocking I had no choice but to see who it was.

"What?" I asked, opening the door with an angry gnarl."

Jeez, what's your problem?" Scotty asked, pushing his way inside. "Were you in the bathroom or something?"

"No, I was just relaxing. What are you doing here?"

"My dad's looking for me. Says I have to do something with Michael and I don't want to. Do you mind if I hide out here?"

"I was going to take a nap, but whatever! I guess you can stay." I liked Scotty's company and all, but wasn't looking for any. However, I'm a nice cousin. "Want some popcorn?"

"Sure, but I brought something better..." he teased, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Oh yeah? What?"

Scotty opened his jacket and showed me the bottle of wine in one pocket, and tequila and vodka on the other side. "I grabbed these from the party when the bartender wasn't looking. Wanna have some fun?"

I was still feeling a little tipsy from the wine at lunch, and didn't want to be totally wasted in front of the family later, but needed something to get through this godawful weekend. "What the hell! But I don't wanna get too trashed."

Well, that idea lasted about as long as the bottle of vodka did. Scotty and I started with that one, finding some juices in the hotel's fridge to mix it with, and finished it in about half an hour. I didn't even realize how drunk I was until we were taking turns chugging straight from the tequila bottle and the room was spinning. I knew it was stupid, and that there was no way I'd be able to hide it, but didn't care anymore. I was relaxed and feeling good, and then Scott surprised me.

Drinking too much alcohol can do a lot of things to you. You get silly and stupid, and sometimes say and do things you otherwise wouldn't. Once we were both fully drunk and couldn't drink anymore, we lay down together on the couch to watch TV. Scotty was on the bottom, me on top basically using him as a pillow. Neither of us had spoken in a few minutes and I wondered if he had fallen asleep. Then out of the blue he says: "You have really nice tits, Lauren."

"What?" I asked, turning my heard around to face him. "Thank you, but what?"

"I said you have really nice tits. I can see them." I hadn't been paying attention and the top of the bathrobe had come undone, leaving my boobs almost completely exposed. I had nothing on underneath except panties, and from Scotty's angel he could probably see them too. Had I not left my panites on he would have seen everything.

"Oh yeah?" I said. "They're kind of small, but I like 'em. Glad you do too."

"Can I touch them?"

"What?!"

"Can I touch them. You know, like feel them with my hands and play with them a little bit?"

Scotty and I always had a little bit of a flirtatious relationship, but we never crossed that line. In my sober mind I might have freaked out—although secretly the idea of him touching my boobs excited me—and told him no, but when I opened my mouth different words came out. "Um, sure, I guess. Have fun."

And he did. Scotty reached his hands under my bathrobe, moved it to the side and began massaging my breasts. I closed my eyes, forgot he was cousin and just let him go. It was incredible. He squeezed and pinched them, rubbed and massaged them. Scotty obviously knew what he was doing. It wasn't long before I took my arms out of the bathrobe to give him better access, and now I was almost completely naked except for a thong and part of a bathrobe covering my private areas. It was incredibly erotic, and if Scotty had been anyone else I'd have been all over him by then.

"You're really good at this," I said.

"Lots of practice," he said laughing. "Wanna see what else I'm good at?"

"Okay."
We switched places, Scotty climbing on top of my and pushing me down on the couch. The bathrobe stayed on—covering down below at least—but my boobs remained free. He began with his fingers and hands, tracing around my belly button and working his way up my stomach, boobs and neck; then he started kissing me. It should have felt weird, but it didn't, and we were having fun. His tongue and lips caressing my breasts felt amazing, and then when he put my nipple in his mouth and bit on it I gasped. He did it to each of them, and it felt like heaven. Finally Scotty worked his way up farther, kissing my neck and cheek, then he went to kiss me...on the lips, like a real kiss. And then he stopped, freezing in place. We looked at each other, neither sure what to do or say, and then I leaned in to him, he leaned toward me and our lips met. His tongue slid inside my mouth and found mine, and we began playing and enjoying each other.

From the minute he kissed me I knew it was wrong; every fiber of my being knew I shouldn't be doing this, not with him. But as I said I couldn't help myself, and got lost in him.

Scotty and I spent the next forever how long making out, crawling all over each other and being really bad. I was having fun, and could tell from the bulge in Scotty's pants that he was too. I didn't know how far we were going to take it, but I wasn't thinking about it then, and stopping never crossed my mind. All I did know was this was both wrong and right, and that we couldn't tell anyone about it.

"Your lips taste so good, so sweet," Scotty said between kisses. "I've wanted to kiss your lips for so long."

"Well, you're a pretty good kisser," I said, and was about to admit my lifelong crush on him and desire to kiss too, but Scotty interrupted me.

"I wanna taste more of you, Lauren. I wanna taste your pussy."

My heart was already pounding so hard from everything I thought it was going to pop of my chest, and that only made me more nervous. Oh my god! What do I do? What should I do? "What?"

"I wanna taste you. Can I taste your pussy?"

I was drunk, delirious and getting hornier by the minute. "Um, I uh, I...yeah, ok."

There was no stopping things now, not even if I wanted to, which I didn't. Scotty moved down toward the bottom of the couch, reached under the bathrobe and slid off my panties. There I was, completely exposed in all my glory in front of my cousin, and just started at me, then started touching. First with his finger, caressing the skin around my lips, then gently sliding it up and down my slit without pushing it in at all.

"You are so incredibly sexy, cousin," Scotty said. "I love it clean and shaved, and your pussy is so wet."

And embarrassingly it was. I was dripping, and honestly couldn't wait to feel his lips and tongue working down there. I had never really thought about being with Scotty, not really, but now I wanted to more than anything . The moment his tongue touched me, splitting my lips apart and licking all the way from the bottom to the top I quivered and moaned. Once Scotty started he was like an animal; he licked, slurped and sucked on my private parts, tasting my lips, my insides and sucking and tugging on my clit with his teeth. It was't long before I was on the verge of cumming, but even then Scotty didn't stop. He kept going, kissing and sucking me all the way through my orgasm and nearly into a second one. I have no idea how he kept going because I was squirming and jumping all over the place.

After getting pushed to the brink of a second orgasm Scotty stopped suddenly and backed away. He looked down at me and smiled, then started kissing my stomach, breasts and neck before reaching my mouth and kissing me there. "I know you wanna cum again, but not yet," he teased, and slowly worked his way back down.

Then he did it again, working me up and then stopping. Ooh, I was so mad...and horny. I was so incredibly freaking horny that I didn't know how to control myself. There was no turning back; no matter how wrong (or right!!) this was, I couldn't stop...I had to have him, to make him cum too.

Scotty stood up in front of me, his cock still bulging in his pants, and let me unbuckle and pull them to the floor, along with his boxer shorts beneath. I'd never seen Scotty's penis before, and it wasn't like I imagined. I'm not sure if it was bigger or small than I thought it would be but something it seemed fuller, if that makes any sense. And it was so hard, like harder than any one I'd ever seen or touched before.

It was sexy, and within seconds in my mouth. I was licking and tasting it all, lapping my tongue up and down the shaft, and even kissing and sucking his balls below. He tasted amazing, that sweaty-sexy-manliness, and let me have fun. This was so crazy! Scotty was moaning, and after a few minutes he began oozing precum and I tried sucking more out but none was coming. Besides I didn't want him in my mouth anymore; I wanted him elsewhere.

"Fuck me, Scotty," I cried. "I want you to fuck me."

"Are you sure? I don't have any condoms with me."

"I don't care. I want to feel you in my pussy. I want you to fuck me."

Scotty was more than happy to oblige, stepping out of his pants and boxers and kneeling down on the couch. One knee slid onto the couch, pushing my leg into the cushion and his other foot landed on the floor, then Scotty made his way toward me. It should have been weird—we grew up together, after all—but it wasn't; Scotty was so hot and sexy, and his dick still hard as a rock. He put the head of it right at the entrance of my still dripping wet pussy, but instead of putting it in and fucking me he massaged my outsides, rubbing my lips with it, soaking his cock with my juices. Then he started pushing forward, but went straight up my lips and rubbed it right over my clit. Oh my god! It felt so good, and was making me even hotter and wanting him inside me more and more.

"Ooh...you tease," I said laughing when he did it again. "Fuck me already!" After the third time Scotty avoided putting it inside me I was ready for him, and as he moved back down I used my fingers and pushed him in myself. "Ah..." I gasped as he finally entered me, "that's better."

Scotty was good at this too. He went slowly at first, pushing himself all the way in, then pulling back out, and doing it again. He wiggled the head near my entrance, and made sure he was filling me up. I was moaning loudly, staring in his eyes and basically begging for me. He was amazing. He went slow, he went fast. He was rough, he was gentle. Whenever I thought he was going to do one thing he did another, keeping me off balance and on the edge of orgasm.

And I'm not sure if he was one something or not, but Scotty had amazing stamina. We were fucking for like ten straight minutes on the couch before he suggested moving to the bed, and then things became even more crazy. He lay on the bed and I crawled next to him and began sucking his dick, slurping up all my juices from him, then climbed on top in reverse cowgirl ands started having fun. I didn't put him inside right away, just pressed him up against my clit while grabbing and massaging his balls. Then I maneuvered around to climb onto his dick, and began riding it. I came again almost instantly (my third orgasm), but kept going, kept screaming and hoped that the hotel was soundproofed and we weren't giving the entire floor a show.

We changed positions a few times, trying spooning, missionary and finally doggie style, which we ended in—or the position that Scotty finally came in. It was kind of a relief because my pussy was getting kind of sore, but in a really good way and I loved it. I was lying on the bed, my face buried in a pillow with my ass sticking up in the air and Scotty fucking me hard from behind. I could feel his balls slapping me, and just closed my eyes and enjoyed the amazing sex.

Counting from the first time I felt his hard-on in his pants when we were making out, then the blowjob and sex on the couch before moving to the bed, Scotty had an erection for almost an hour, and we'd been fucking for more than half of it. We were both crazed and sweaty, and he was slowing down and I figured he was finally tiring out on me.

"Hmm, Laur, I'm gonna cum," he announced. "Want me to pull out and squirt on your back?"

"Uh-huh. Don't you dare!" I cried.

"What do you want me to do then?"
"Just keep fucking me. Cum inside me; cum in my pussy, deep inside my pussy."

Again Scotty obliged. He took a break, then started pounding me harder and a little quicker, then suddenly stopped and erupted. I felt his penis harden and tense up, filling my insides up more, and then felt a rocket like explosion of pressure and warmth. It was enough to send me over the edge into another orgasm, and then we both collapsed on the bed. Scotty's cum was dripping out of my pussy, and one of my favorite things to do was take it in my fingers and rub it all over my clit. It just made me feel so sexy and connected.

"That was incredible," I said, licking the last few drops off my fingertips. "You fuckin' rock!"

"I think I'm in love with you," Scotty confessed.

A few minutes later, realizing I was a sticky, sweaty mess—and Scotty wasn't much better, but he looked so much hotter that way too—I decided to get cleaned up. I pulled my arm out from under him and moved his head off my breasts, then stood up and started walking away.

"Where are you going?" Scotty asked, looking disappointed.

"Look what you did to me? I'm filthy. I need to take a shower. I'll be back in a few minutes." I walked into the bathroom, got my towels ready and turned on the water. Then I peaked my head around to the main room, looking at Scotty. "You know, the showers in this place are huge. Definitely big enough for two. Wanna join me?"

Scotty jumped at the chance and practically chased me not the bathroom. I had planned on making it a quick shower—I needed time to get ready for the dinner party—but with Scotty in there we ended up taking forever. I'm surprised the hotel didn't run out of water. We didn't have sex again, at least not all the way, but did practically everything else. We made out, gave each other oral and hand pleasure, and scrubbed one another from head to toe. I came once again, and so did Scotty, and the shower was almost as amazing as the sex.