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Introduction:

A change in living arrangement brings some changes to cousins' lives.
Aunt Barbara called me one evening. We've been pretty close all my life. She's the one who helped me keep it together when my parents were killed in a hold-up at their little jewelry store. I sure as hell needed my aunt and uncle then. I was an only child, a freshman in college, commuting from home. They did as much as they could to help me through the mess and horror of all that. Even their daughter Rose pitched in. She was the one who did a lot of the clean-up at the store when the evidence guys were done. A gangly young teen, she was the only one with the guts to do it.

I think of Mom and Dad every day, and I'll probably never drive down the street where their store was again. Dealing with all of it meant withdrawing from college for a year. Things are settled now, the funerals and trials are over, and I've moved on. The end result is that I inherited a nice, mortgage-free house, a decent chunk of change, and the freedom to live the way I want. I'm single, living in my own place, and working on my M.S. in computer coding theory, with no school loans and no need for a part-time job.

I'm not wild or completely irresponsible, but I'm a guy. The amount of time many college students spend on a part-time job can, in my case, be devoted to going to clubs and trying to get laid. I'm careful about it, low key. Otherwise, I'm sure Aunt Barbara would never have called.

She said, “We really need your help, Brad. Something great has happened for us, but it's created a problem.”

“What's going on?”

“Paul has been offered a position overseas. It's a big promotion, all re-location expenses paid, the works. It's what he's been dreaming of, so obviously, he's going to take it.”

“Congratulations! So, you guys are moving?”

“Yes, and that's the problem. Rose was accepted to the local university where you're going. She was going to commute, like you. Now, the dorms are full, and we don't want her living alone in some apartment. She doesn't want to have to beg for late acceptance to some school overseas. So, we have this really huge favor to ask you.”

Uh oh. I don't like the sound of this. They've done a lot for me, but.... In my most polite, helpful voice I responded, “What's that?”

“Paul and I have thought about this a lot. Would you allow us to pay rent and expenses so Rose could stay at your house? She'd be able to keep in closer touch with some friends, and we'd feel better knowing she's with family.”

Shit. Just what I needed. A teenaged girl for a housemate. Rose is a nice kid, smart and cute and all, but still. BIG change in lifestyle.

“When would she move in?” I asked.

“Paul is leaving the day after she graduates, and I'd like to join him as soon as I can.”

“Can she bring her own furniture?”

“She'd like to take some of ours. What room would you put her in?”

“You know I took over Mom and Dad's room, right? So, I guess she can have my old room. It's bigger than the guest room. It's empty, except for some stuff I should get rid of anyway.”

“Can we get together to discuss this some time soon?” Aunt Barbara asked.

“Do you want to come over now?”

Half an hour later, Aunt Barbara and Rose were at my door. I was disappointed that Uncle Paul wasn't with them. It was always nice to see him, since he was a lot like my dad. He was working, as usual. My aunt looked like she always did – just as pretty as my own mother, but with dark hair. She had always been like a second mom to me, too.

Since Paul was my father's brother, and they married Barbara and her sister in a double ceremony, Rose and I spent a lot of time together growing up. We always got along, despite the age difference. When she was in third grade, she got hit by a car when she was playing on the street in front of her house, and spent a lot of time at home in casts, eventually making a full recovery. I rode there on my bike to keep her company almost every day, which usually meant playing with her toys or watching girly cartoons. I didn't mind, since she seemed happy. This was the kid that loved to play hide-and-seek with me when we stayed at each other's houses when one set of parents took a night for themselves. As a young teenager, she sought me out after my parents' funeral, so that I, a grown man, would have someone to cry with.

Rose always looked more like my mom than her own, with her ginger hair and fair skin, but she looked different than I remembered her. Now that Mom and Dad were gone, I didn't get together with Barbara, Paul, and Rose as much. I hadn't seen her since Christmas, and we were now halfway through Spring. Maybe that's a long time at her age. I kept thinking of her as a little girl, since I met her before she could walk. Cute little cousin Rose was turning into a very attractive young woman, more beautiful than Mom and Aunt Barbara ever were. As a kid, Rose always wore her long hair in braids or a ponytail, but now it was brushed out, it's fullness threatening to cover one eye and reaching far down onto her chest.

She seemed nervous. I wondered if she felt as awkward about this arrangement as I did.

“Let me show you what I thought we could do,” I said, leading them upstairs. “This is the guest room. You could have that, but it's pretty small. I thought I'd give you my old room. It's probably bigger than your parents' room at home, so all their furniture should fit. You'll have your own bathroom down the hall, since there's one in my bedroom for me. The closet is big, and you have some nice windows.” I opened the door and motioned them inside.

“What do you think?” Aunt Barbara asked.

“It's nice,” Rose said, in a tone that showed she didn't mean it.

“What's your favorite color?” I asked her.

“Why?”

“I'll paint the room for you. This green is pretty bad.”

“It was your mother's favorite,” Aunt Barbara scolded.

“I know. Half her wardrobe was green, or had green trim or something. She just had to paint a room green, and I was a kid when she did it, so I didn't get to choose. After they were gone I moved into their room. I didn't know what to do here, but I repainted the trim and ceiling, and I was going to paint the walls, but I got side-tracked. The room needs paint. It can be whatever color Rose wants.”

“Hmmm.” My cousin turned slowly to study her new space. “If I do all the edging, can we make it two-tone?”

Friday after dinner, I went to her house so we could go paint shopping. Heaven knows what the names were for the colors she chose, but she was thrilled with them. We agreed to paint on Sunday, which gave me Saturday to clear out the rest of my junk, wipe down the walls, and patch nail-holes.

Bright and early Sunday morning (in college-speak, that means before noon) someone was ringing my doorbell. Some of my friends had hung out late the night before helping to clean up from a little party we had, so I wasn't at my best. Half asleep, I assumed it was someone who had left something behind. “Coming! Coming! Shit! Quit ringin' the motherfuckin' bell, asshole!” I yelled as I stumbled down the steps.

Standing on the porch were Aunt Barbara and Rose. “Nice mouth,” my aunt said. “Do you think you might want to put some clothes on?”

That was when I remembered that all I was wearing was yesterday's boxer shorts.

“Sorry,” I said. “What time is it?”

“After nine. You told us to come over in the morning. Remember?” Aunt Barbara asked.

Rose pretended to not look, but her eyes kept coming back to the center of my body.

Trying to clear my head, I said, “Yeah. Yeah, sure. Come in. Sorry, I mustn't have set my alarm.”

“You have a funny way of greeting guests,” Aunt Barbara grumbled.

“Why don't you two sit in the living room for a couple minutes while I get ready,” I said, leaving them in the foyer and dashing back upstairs.

“Brad, I need to run. Text me when you want me to pick up Rose,” Aunt Barbara called after me.

I was drying off from a fast shower when Rose knocked on my bedroom door.

“Brad?” she called. “Is it okay if I change clothes in the hallway bathroom? I don't want to risk getting paint on what I'm wearing.”

“Sure, no problem. It's your bathroom, now,” I hollered through my door. “All the painting stuff is in your new bedroom. I'll meet you there.”

I was double-checking the tape on the drop-cloths when she walked in. She had exchanged her shoes, jeans, and top for a pair of grungy sneakers, cut-off blue jean shorts that probably were tight on her a couple years ago, and a white t-shirt, so old and thin that it allowed me to see her lacy little bra clearly. Her ginger mane was pulled back and stuffed through a well-worn pink baseball cap. Damn!

“Wow, with your stuff gone, this room looks huge,” she said.

Somehow, I kept a poker face and spoke in a normal voice. “It's a decent room. The cable and internet hookups are over there, between the windows.”

“Brad, you don't know how much this means to me.”

“What? Taking you in? Your parents are paying me, you know.”

“Yeah, but even so,...”

“Look, your mom, dad and you are the only relatives I have left. Your parents are like a second family to me, now that my folks are gone. So, I probably would have let you stay here even if they weren't paying me.”

“Should I tell them that?” she giggled.

“Whatever doesn't go toward your part of the grocery bill is yours.”

“For real? Cool!”

She moved around the room, inspecting my repairs and looking at the view from her windows. “Do you have a lot of friends that come over?”

“Not a lot, but yeah, people visit sometimes.”

“Guys or girls?”

“Why are you asking me this?”

Rose gave me an exasperated look. “I'm not THAT much younger than you, so I can guess what you do, okay? I don't want to get in the way of a party of YOUR friends or be a cock-blocker, so you'll have to let me know when to be quiet and stay out of sight. I feel kinda funny about living with some guy, even if he is, like, an older brother figure. I've never lived with anyone near my age. It's always been just me, Mom, and Dad.”

“Remember, I'm an only child too. I don't know if that's good or bad. Some of my friends can't stand their younger siblings.”

“Same with mine. Why is that?” she asked.

“I don't know. Maybe it's from having to help take care of them when they were babies or something. After all, how do you love someone who peed on your lap when you were a kid?”

Rose blushed. “Did I ever do that to you?”

“Not that I remember. If you had, I wouldn't let you live here. Now, which wall gets which color?”

Rose was very good at cutting-in (that's painter-talk for edging around the corners, moldings, and ceiling). I couldn't help noticing what her legs looked like when she was on the step-ladder. Not just her legs, either. The areas that ancient denim struggled to cover looked pretty nice, too.

Everything needed two coats of paint. With the help of sandwiches and delivered pizza, we worked non-stop into the evening. Finally, we were done.

I stood back to admire our handiwork. Rose joined me.

“This room is awesome. You have a good eye for color, Ginger,” I said.

“Ginger? Don't ever call me Ginger, okay? I hate that stupid nickname. My name is Rose. You can call me Rose, or cuz, or kid or pretty much anything but Ginger!” She turned away in a huff.

I shouldn't have done it, but I couldn't help myself. I wiped some paint off a roller with my finger. “Sorry, Ginger.”

When she spun around to confront me, I put paint on her cute nose.

“You bastard!” she laughed. “I'll get you for that. Some random time, I will SO get you for that!”

“Bring it. I'll break you in half.”

Rose put her hands on her hips. “I want to get along with you, to live together as friends, okay? But I can take care of myself.”

I grabbed her by her sides and hoisted her up to eye-level, the pale skin of her torso warm in my hands where her shirt rode up. “I know karate, judo, aikido, and several other Japanese words. Like I said, bring it, Ginger.”

Then she did something I didn't expect. She rubbed her paint-smeared nose on mine. I put her down, and we laughed like fools. When we had ourselves under control, she said, “What are your rules for me?”

“Hmmm. Clean up your own mess. Don't drink out of the milk or juice cartons. Use headphones when you wanna play shit like Justin Bieber. If my bedroom door is closed, I'm either changing clothes, want my privacy, or have company. That's pretty much it. What do you expect from me?”

“You could hand me a clean paint rag.”

As we cleaned the paint from our faces, she said, “Please don't be my like my parents. I'm a big girl now, you know? I can make my own decisions.”

“About what?”

“Like, everything! How I dress, who I hang with, my bedtime, my phone bill, all that.”

“You understand that your folks are making me responsible for you. Your folks and I are signing papers naming me as a sort of custodian for you so I can get you emergency medical care and put your car on my insurance, stuff like that. To me, that means I have at least some say in your behavior. You can't be banging a different guy in here every night.”

“Brad!” she scolded. “That's not what I meant! All I'm asking is if I'm going to have a set bed time on school nights like I do at home.”

“No, as long as you're quiet, we'll be fine. We'll make this fun, and we'll respect each other's needs. All right?”

Her hug was her answer.

Rose's graduation was a big event. She was now out of high school, an incoming college freshman, and her parents were leaving her the next morning. The women cried a lot, and Uncle Paul claimed his allergies were kicking up.

The next day, she moved in. I was prepared for the idea of bringing a lot of heavy furniture upstairs. What I didn't expect was the number of cartons of books, CDs, DVDs, clothes, and shoes this girl had, and I sure as hell didn't expect Uncle Paul to just dump a lot of her shit in the living room and say, “I have to return the truck and meet Barb, so I gotta go. Thanks, Brad. We'll call when the plane lands. I love you, Angel!”

With that, he was gone.

“Bye, Dad,” Rose said to the closed door.

I felt sorry for her, but I didn't know what to say. She turned and looked at me, and I could see the tears about to spill. Just as her lower lip started to quiver, I pulled her in for a hug. She clung to me for a minute, gathering herself as I stroked her long, beautiful hair.

Finally, she moved away from me and managed a smile. “You're going to get me through this, just like I tried to help you when your parents died. I guess this is the start of chapter two of my life.”

“I'll do what I can to make it enjoyable for you, cuz.”

She hugged me again, and then we stood, grinning at each other, surrounded by girl junk.

It took us a while, but we managed to get all her things upstairs. I worked at setting up her flat-screen, PC, and X-box, while she filled drawers with clothes. When I had everything connected properly and booted up, I turned around to see her carefully re-folding some nearly transparent panties.

She glanced my way and blushed. “This is going to be an adjustment.”

I sat on her desk chair and gestured to her bed. “I know. Let's talk about this for a minute. Sit down, please.”

She sat on the bottom edge of her bed and hunched forward. This had the no-doubt intentional effect of causing her hair to hide her one eye. She does it all the time, like a ginger-haired emo chick.

“Rose, I don't want this to be awkward between us. I'm your cousin. But I'm also a guy. I'm not going to pretend that you're not a cute girl, because you are. Do you have a boyfriend?”

“I did. I broke up with him. Couldn't take the drama,” she said.

“Nobody now?”

“No. Guys are assholes.”

“Maybe that's because chicks can be bitches,” I said. “That's why I'm single at the moment.”

“People say I can be a mega-bitch,” Rose giggled. “Just ask my ex.”

“Seriously, I'm only talking to you about this because I don't want to invade your privacy. We're both going to need some space here. Your folks gave me a list of rules, but I don't really care what you do as long as you don't call me for bail money.”

“I don't get in trouble!”

“Don't get expelled from school.”

“Brad, I've been on the Honor Roll since kindergarten, and if you remember, I was Valedictorian last night.”

“I don't want to see you on the evening news.”

“Duh! I'm not stupid and I don't do drama.”

“Don't get pregnant.”

She blushed visibly, but kept her defiant teenage tone. “I'm on the pill to help with my periods, if you must know.”

“Too much information, but fine. In return for giving you enough rope to hang yourself, I'm going to ask you to respect my privacy and not tell people everything I do. Is that fair?”

“Very fair.” She got up, kissed me on the cheek, and went back to folding pretty little things.

Instantly, I felt myself thicken. What the fuck? Okay, it's been a little while, but really?

It only took a few days for us to establish a routine. I'm a much better cook than she is. She cleans much faster than I ever did, and gets the place spotless. Household chores and preparation for the upcoming semester took up a lot of our at-home time, and often, I didn't see Rose much after dinner.

On Friday night, neither of us had anything to do. “Wanna watch a movie?” I asked.

“I get to pick,” she answered.

“Oh? Why?”

“'Cuz I'm cuter,” she smirked. She chose “The Blue Lagoon,” that old Brook Shields flick, made way back when she was still an incredibly hot girl of questionable age. As we watched the movie, I realized that Rose had a figure very much like Em did just before she and Richard found out how babies are made.

When the movie was over, Rose said, “I'm tired. I'm going to take a shower and go to bed.”

“All right. Maybe I'll see what's on TV. I'll be quiet in case you're asleep.”

After some serious channel-surfing, I decided there was nothing I felt like watching. The water sounds had stopped in Rose's bathroom some time earlier, so I thought she was in bed. Noiselessly, I made my way upstairs, just in time to see Rose walk down the hall to her room, wearing a towel. It was wrapped around her torso, but her bottom was completely exposed. My God! This was my cute kid cousin. She wasn't supposed to have an ass like that!

I stayed frozen in place at the top of the stairs for at least fifteen minutes after the last sound I heard her make. Then I tiptoed down the hall, went in my room, and closed the door.

Saturday was a day of running around. Rose wanted to get some new eye make-up, and I had some errands to do, so we made a day of it. That was the first time we had been together outside the house. We enjoyed ourselves, talking, laughing, and just getting to know each other better. I didn't think anything of the fact that we were walking together, close to each other, until we approached some teenaged boys.

They leered at Rose.

“Do you know those guys?” I whispered.

“No. They didn't go to my school. See what I mean about guys being assholes?” she whispered back.

As we walked past, the one smart-ass said, “She's pretty young for you, dude.”

There were three of them, but I hoped if I humiliated the one with the mouth, the others would fold. Putting on my best tough-guy face, I turned to him. “Excuse me?”

“I said, she's kinda young for you. Is she a good lay?”

“I wouldn't know. She's my cousin.”

The punks started laughing. “Sucks to be you, dude,” Mouth said.

“Brad, let's go. Come on,” Rose hissed, grabbing my hand and pulling me away. “What the hell? Are you nuts?”

“Did you hear what he said?”

“Yeah. So what? You've been out of high school too long. That's why I said guys are assholes.”

“No wonder there's so much fighting in schools these days,” I grumbled.

“It's okay. Really. Thank you. That was cute,” she said, still holding my hand as we walked to my car.

That night, we sat around after dinner gaming. Rose was pretty good, beating me in one-on-one combat a few times, and easily being accepted in my “unit” when we went online. Like the night before, Rose got her shower before I went upstairs.

This time, I waited extra long. I didn't need to see that ass again. It was bad enough being mistaken for a couple by those punk kids. It was even worse that it felt so damn nice holding her hand as we walked across the parking lot. Seeing her half-naked again might be more than I could take.

When I finally went upstairs, I heard a sound coming from Rose's room. I couldn't figure out what it was until I tiptoed to her door. She was moaning. Shit! What's wrong with her? I was reaching for the doorknob when I figured it out. She was playing with herself, and doing a good job, from the sound of it.

So much for the idea that I wouldn't jerk off tonight. Well, if I was going to do it anyway, why not see if I could get more material for my fantasy session?

When I re-painted the hallway the year before, I replaced all the door hardware. Gone were the old, worn-out hinges that wouldn't stay greased. Out with ugly doorknobs that made grinding noises. The new stuff was a lot better, but was it quiet enough? Would it be possible to open her door to see her masturbating?

It was.

A narrow gap was enough to let me see her bed. Her nightshirt was on the floor, and the sheet was pulled up to her shoulders. Her hands were moving around under the thin covering. One was on her breasts, the other, between her legs. Finally, she arched her back and pulled her knees up to cum. The sheet came down far enough to expose her perky tits, her hand pinching one hard nipple.

I almost lost it right there in the hall. It wasn't going to take much effort at all to blow my load tonight. Not the first couple of times, anyway. I needed to close her door and get in my room.

Honestly, I don't remember getting undressed. The first coherent thoughts I had were that I had never splattered all over my chest and thighs at the same time, and that I definitely wasn't done for the night. I was working my way up to my second orgasm when I heard it – a wet sound, coming from the direction of my door.

I didn't dare move my head to look, but from the corner of my eye I could see that the door was partway open. A pale hand was buried between two pale thighs. That took me right over the edge. I pointed my cock straight up, and I heard her whimper from the doorway as the first rope shot out of me to join the cooling puddles still on my belly from before.

The door closed silently as my erection faded. I waited a few minutes, and then got up and took a shower. As I was washing my cum off, I wondered if I should talk to her about this. She must have seen me watching her, and probably knew that I saw her watching me. What did it all mean? This had the potential to get awkward.

There were two choices. I could pretend it didn't happen and hope she would do the same, or I could confront it head on. The idea of ignoring the elephant in the room seemed pretty ridiculous. I threw on a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt and opened my door. When I got to her room, it sounded like she was watching TV.

“Rose?” I said, knocking gently on her door. “You still up?”

The soundtrack stopped. “Yeah. Why?”

“I'd like to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“May I come in?”

“Can it wait till morning?” she asked.

“I don't think so.”

Rustling noises.

“May I come in?” I repeated.

“All right.”

I opened the door. “Shield your eyes. I want to turn on the ceiling light.”

“Why?”

“So I can see you while I talk with you.” I clicked on the bright light. Rose was propped up on some pillows against the headboard of her bed, her laptop on the floor beside her, a novel open on her lap.

“What do you want?”

When I got closer to her, I saw that the book was upside down from her point of view. I also saw that her nipples were very hard under her nightshirt. The indicator light on her laptop showed it was still on.

“We need to talk again, Rose, about privacy and personal space. I feel bad about what happened tonight.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“No?”

“No.”

I sat down on the edge of the bed. “Your book is upside down.” I bent over and flipped open her laptop. The scene paused on the screen showed a girl in pigtails taking it in both ends from two guys. “How long have you been looking at stuff on this site?” I grabbed her hand and yanked it to me, sniffing loudly. “That's an interesting smell.”

She ripped her hand away and pulled the sheet up to cover herself better, blushing furiously. “You spied on me. I saw you.”

“You're right. I'm sorry. I heard you moaning, and I wondered if you were okay.”

“Why did you just stand there watching me?”

“Why did you keep playing with yourself if you knew I was watching?”

She looked away. “I couldn't stop.”

“Oh, trust me, I know the feeling.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” she giggled. “I'm sorry I peeked at you. I just wanted to talk to you about seeing you watching me. I didn't expect a show!”

“How much did you see?”

She looked at me again, a naughty grin in her eyes. “When I managed to get your door open, there was cum all over you, and you were still stroking it. You never went soft, did you?”

“No.”

“Are you always like that? I mean, I've watched porn and stuff, obviously, but most guys are done for a while after they cum, aren't they?”

“I think so. Usually, I am.”

“What was different tonight?”

Now it was my turn to blush. “What do you think?”

“Oh my God, were you thinking about me?”

“What other hot girls have I seen masturbating lately?”

She blushed again. “Now what?”

“I don't know.”

There was a moment of awkward silence before she asked, “Do you really think I'm hot?”

“Yeah, I do. I've been trying not to, but,... well,... you know....”

“How much did you see?” she asked.

“Pretty much everything. Just not all at once.”

“What do you mean?”

“Last night, when you took your shower, I waited to come upstairs after I heard the water shut off. I thought you had gone to bed, but I saw you walking down the hall in a towel.”

“Oh.... It didn't really cover my butt, did it?”

“Not even close. Tonight, when you were in here, I saw your breasts. Well, one of them. You were playing with the other. When you were watching me, I couldn't see much of you – just you fingering yourself.”

“That's embarrassing.”

“It was also kinda hot,” I chuckled. “You whimpered pretty loud.”

“Well, yeah! I mean, watching you shoot up in the air like that was pretty,... um,... stimulating.”

“Why do you think I came that hard? I knew you were there, and I could see what you were doing. You were getting ready to cum for the second time while I watched you tonight. That was more than enough for me!”

Rose sat up and looked at me. “Can you cum like that again?”

“Huh?”

“I want to watch you shoot your spunk up close. This isn't the first time I've seen a cock, and before you ask, no, I'm not a virgin. I want to see you jerk off again.”

Holy shit! Should I? Of course not. Would I?

I heard myself say, “There are two conditions. First, no one, and I mean absolutely no one, can find out about any of this. Do you understand?”

“I'm not a stupid kid, Brad. Mom and Dad would never speak to either of us again, and I sure don't want my friends to know. What's the other condition?”

“You have to help.”

“WHAT?”

“You have to get completely naked, show yourself to me, and then help me get off.”

“You want me to take my nightshirt off and give you a handjob?”

“Yeah, I guess that's what I'm saying.”

She looked at me, trying unsuccessfully to maintain a look of shocked innocence. “What do I get out of this?”

“What do you want?” How far was this little vixen going to push things?

She thought for a moment. “Have you ever gone down on a girl?”

“Of course. I can eat pussy all night long.”

“I've never had that done to me.”

“Your ex never licked your pussy?”

“The asshole? No. He liked me to give him blowjobs, though. He said I got pretty good at it. I did it a lot before I finally let him take my virginity.”

“I'd love to go down on you.”

“That's, like, incest, Brad.”

“I guess it is, but I won't tell if you won't.”

“Okay, then,” she blushed. She kicked the sheet down, pulled her nightshirt off, and tossed it overboard.

In no time, my shirt and shorts were on the floor, and I was stroking my slowly hardening penis. “Yeah, Rose, you're hot.”

She stared wide-eyed at my cock as she played with her breasts. “My ex liked to pick apart my appearance if he wanted to start a fight. Do you think I look okay?”

“My God, yes! Everything! Your hair, your face, your eyes, your tits, your whole body, and especially your bald little pussy! Yeah, you're way more than okay.”

“You're bigger than I thought you'd be,” she murmured, her middle finger now rubbing her moist lips. “Take your hand away for a minute so I can see it better.”

My cock was shiny with the spit I had used to lubricate my hand, standing proud, bobbing with my pulse.

“Oh yeah, that's a lot bigger than Asshole's cock was.”

“It's not that big,” I said, although I was glad she thought it was. “It's bigger than textbook average, but it's not, like, huge or anything.”

“Well, it sure looks nice to me,” she said, sitting up to examine it more closely. “Very nice.” That was when she kissed me.

I pulled her to me, her breasts firm against my chest, and kissed her back. Properly.

When we broke for air, I asked, “What are we doing?”

“Getting ready to do something really bad?”

“Or good, depending on how you look at it.”

“Or good,” she said, kissing me again and reaching out to stroke my hardness.

I cupped her breasts in my hands as we kissed, rubbing my thumbs on the tender skin below her nipples.

She broke away to lean down and lick the clear syrup that was dripping from me.

“My God, Rose! What are you doing?” I moaned.

“I'm gonna suck your dick. My ex said all guys like that. Don't you?”

“Yeah, but, ...”

“But what? I like doing it. So lie back and let me have some fun.”

She gave me a little push to convince me to lie down. I sprawled naked across my cousin's bed, with her on her belly, her head poised above my lap. My manhood was hard as stone again.

“How many times can you cum?” she asked, staring at my cock as she fondled it with one small hand.

“I don't know.”

Tossing the hair off her eyes, she said, “Let's find out.” Then she licked the head of my cock thoroughly. “Mmmm. Yours tastes better than Asshole's did.” She began stroking me a little more purposefully. “Do you like that?”

“Yeah.”

“I bet you'll like this better.” She took me into her mouth and bobbed slowly back and forth, her cheeks puckering with suction.

“My God, Rose!”

She moved between my knees. “Hold my hair back,” she said, stroking me with both hands. “My ex used to love this.”

I gathered her long ginger hair into two loose pigtails in my fists. She smiled up at me, put her hands on my hips, and moved her mouth onto me. And onto me. And onto me until I was down her throat, and her face was mashed against my belly.

She held it for a few seconds, swallowing like she wanted my entire body in her stomach, and then pulled off, blinking and gasping noisily for air. Then she did it again, grinding her nipples into my thighs. This wasn't what I had thought about when I questioned the changes that would occur in my life with my teenaged cousin moving in!

After about a half dozen times of taking me partway down to her toes, she stopped for breath. “How was that?” she grinned.

“Where did you learn to do that?”

Stroking my slippery manhood, she said, “My ex was always bugging me to suck his dick when we first got together, and when I finally did, he said I had a lot to learn. He gave me links to some porn sites and told me to study. I did. I even practiced with vegetables. That's how I found out I don't have much of a gag reflex.”

“That was amazing!”

“Maybe,” she smiled, “but you didn't cum. Yet.”

This time, it was her tongue that did most of the work. She bathed me, licking my sack, sucking on my balls, working her tongue up one side of my shaft and down the other, and always, when she got to the top, sucking me deep into her mouth for a moment.

I wanted to cum. Needed to. But it was too soon.

“You're a stubborn one, aren't you?” she giggled, taking a break to stroke me. “Why don't you cum?”

“I'm only human. You saw what I put out already this evening.”

“Didn't you save any for me?” With that, she forced herself onto me again, swallowing until her face was crushed into my belly. She stayed like that for an impossibly long time, working her throat muscles on my shaft. When she pulled off, she sat back, gasping for air. “Damn, that makes me wet doing that!” she giggled.

“Oh really?” I grinned. I hoisted her by her armpits to lie on top of me, positioning her so I could fondle her lovely ass. She responded by grinding her mound against my upturned cock. I pulled her in for a deep kiss, which only made her squirm more.

“I think I want you to do something,” she murmured.

“What's that?”

“I think I want you to fuck me.”

“I shouldn't, but I probably will, sooner or later.” I moved her so I could suck on her lovely pink nipples. Her breasts were a wonderful size to play with, fondle, and kiss.

“My boobs are so sensitive,” she moaned. “Between sucking your dick and what you're doing now, I'm almost ready to cum.”

“Let's take care of that,” I said. I lifted her by the ass and moved her so she was poised above my face, far enough away that I could get a good look at her sex. Beautiful. Carefully shaved, with tight-looking little lips, almost completely concealing the source of the sweet wetness I smelled.

“Oh God,” she whispered as I lowered her to me.

I've been with a decent number of girls, and I've licked all of them at least once. I know what pussy should taste like. The first pass of my tongue over Rose's wet lips was better than anything I could remember. She tasted fresher, sweeter, and creamier than any girl I've ever known. I teased her with my mouth, kissing, licking, nibbling all over her crotch.

Her hips started moving, slowly at first, but speeding up as I licked her harder. Soon, she was more-or-less riding my face. “No one told me it was like this,” she gasped. I pulled her down onto me, and curled my tongue to enter her. She was pinching her nipples when she came.

I lifted her off me. “Ready for more?”

“Fuck me.”

“Soon. I'm not done playing with your cute little pussy.” My middle finger went where my tongue had been, into her tight wetness. I licked around it as well as I could, but when her little hole started making squelching noises on my finger, my lips found her clit and sucked.

“Brad! Oh shit!” she squealed, her ginger mane wild around her face. When she calmed down, she moaned, “No more! Please! I just want you to fuck me!”

With my help, she moved down my body until she was poised over my rigid cock. “I wanna jump on this thing and ride it, but I don't know if it'll even fit.”

“I'm not that damn big!”

She lined me up with her dripping hole and started working me inside. “Big enough,” she whimpered. It took her a while to stretch to accommodate me, but the process was pure heaven. When her weight rested on my pelvis, she sighed, “Why does this feel so right?”

I pulled her down on top of me, holding her hair off her face. Our tongues dueled, and her hips started to move, back and forth, left and right, experimenting with me. My hands caressed the soft skin of her back, finding a home on her firm young ass. As one, we developed a luxurious rhythm, taking our time. Building.

She sat up, straddling me, riding me at a fast walk. With one hand, I massaged her perfect young breasts, and with the other, I teased and played with the tender flesh around her button. She broke into a trot, talking long strokes that nearly unseated her, faster, until she was in a full gallop. Her orgasm this time was loud, long, and wet, and the aftershocks continued after she had collapsed onto my chest once more. “You're still so hard.”

“I didn't cum.”

“Can you?”

“Yeah.” I rolled us over so she was on her back, her arms and legs wrapped around me. We found a rhythm again, deep, firm, wet skin slapping. We weren't frantic, but we were trying to make each other cum.

She must have seen it on my face. “Fill me. I want your stuff inside me. Do it.”

I pushed deep and held her tight, twitching and spurting until I felt weak. When I was done, she kissed me, hard at first, breathlessly, giving me exactly what I needed. I rolled off her and pulled her to me, and she cuddled against me. She played with my beard stubble while I stroked her tender ass. Neither of us spoke for a while.

Finally she sat up. “I need to clean up.”

“I guess I should too.”

“Your shower's bigger.”

She followed me to the bathroom, and sat on the toilet. Daubing at her messy pussy with some tissue, she said, “We probably shouldn't have done that.”

“Rose, I'm sorry. I'm supposed to be taking care of you.”

She flushed and came over to me, pressing her naked body against mine. “No, no. I'm just saying that's what people would think. I loved it. It can be our little secret. When can we do it again?”

“You're not upset?”

“No, silly. That was way too much fun for me to be upset. It's not like one of us wanted it and enjoyed it but the other didn't. Brad, you made me cum more tonight than Asshole did the whole time I was with him.”

“You looked like you were having a good time,” I said, grabbing her face and kissing her.

She pushed herself tighter against me. Between kisses, she said, “You didn't answer me about when can we do it again.”

“It'll be a little while. I need to get some rest.”

“Can I sleep with you tonight? If I wake up in the middle of the night, I'll see if I can get you hard again.” She pulled away from me and stepped into the shower.

I followed her. Standing there, watching her bathe, seeing her clean my cum from her pussy, I thought about who she really was to me – a “double” cousin. We were the product of two brothers marrying two sisters. The only thing more fucked up would have been if she were MY sister. I wrestled with my conscience for a while as she caressed her body with a sponge.

“Are you really okay with this?” I asked.

“What? Showering together?”

“No, Rose. Are you okay with what we did.”

“Are you?”

“Honestly, yes, I am. I know it's supposed to be wrong since we're pretty closely related, but that's why it seems right. I've known you all your life. We haven't spent much time together in the last couple years, but I think I know you pretty well. We're living together, we get along, so why wouldn't we give each other pleasure? Yes, cuz, I think I'm okay with it.”

She smiled and pulled me close for a sudsy kiss. “That's good. I'd hate to think this was a one-time thing.”

We helped each other bathe, playing a little, and then dried off.

“Should I get my nightie?”

I looked at her, standing at the vanity, finger-combing her damp ginger hair. Her nipples were calm now, but still every bit as beautiful. Her amazing ass nearly gleamed in the strong light. “Please don't.”

“I never was naked all night with a guy before. I can hardly wait. Let me go dry my hair. I'll meet you in your bed.”

Quickly, I got under the sheet, thoughts of being pressed against that ass all night racing through my brain.

She stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the hallway light. “I've never wanted to be close to a guy like this before.”

“Come to bed, Rose.”

She slipped under the sheet and snuggled against me. We kissed and touched each other quietly.

“What's your favorite position to sleep in?” I asked.

“I fall asleep best on my right side. What about you?”

“Same.”

She rolled onto her side and pressed back against me. We spooned, my arm around her.

“Good night, Brad.”

I nuzzled her neck, cupping her breast in my hand and breathing her soft, wild hair. “Good night.”

I awoke on my back, morning wood proud and tall. Sunlight was streaming through my window.

Rose was sitting cross-legged on the bed, ginger locks shielding her one eye, her body exposed to me. “I've been looking at that, wondering what I should do with it,” she said.

“Um,... good morning. Pretty much anything you want.”

“Let's start with this.” She got on all fours next to me and started licking me thoroughly.

I helped her straddle me and pulled her pussy to my face. She moaned when I worked a finger inside her, and took me into her mouth. When I added another finger, she took me into her throat. Like the night before, she forced herself onto me, over and over again.

I found the place I was looking for, and started caressing the ribbed spot inside her.

She came up for air, gasping, “Dear God!”

“I'm gonna cum real soon, Rose.”

She said nothing, writhing her pussy above me and sucking like her life depended on it. A moan was her response as each spew of me hit her tongue, and she bathed my face in her juice soon after. In the afterglow, we cuddled and kissed, tasting ourselves on each other.

Finally, she said, “You know what? I don't care what the world says about this. I really don't. This is too damn good to stop. Besides, I feel safe in your arms. It feels right being in your bed with you.”

“I remember the morning after my parents' funeral. I fell asleep that night thinking about the way you supported me, the way you did what you could to help me hold it together. I woke up that morning and felt really alone. I wanted to be with you. It wasn't a sexual thing at all. I just knew you would say the right things to me.”

She propped herself on her elbow to look at me. “I was just starting to get really interested in boys back then, and seeing you cry made me realize that boys are different from men. I've always enjoyed it when we got together, and ever since that day I've kinda liked you. So I guess this makes sense.”

We relaxed in each other's arms a little longer, then went to our respective bathrooms. I had finished with the toilet and my teeth, and was about to get in the shower when Rose yelled down the hall.

“Brad, don't take your shower yet.”

“Why not?”

She appeared at my bathroom door, naked. “I'm not ready to get cleaned up yet. I want to play some more.” She turned and climbed onto the middle of my bed on her hands and knees. “Have you ever done it doggy-style?”

“Yeah.”

“I haven't. I've watched it online, but Asshole didn't ever want to do it that way. The videos I've seen make me want to try it.”

I got on the bed behind her to fondle her ass.

“Mmmm,” she murmured.

I pulled her cheeks apart to look at her, and she lowered herself until her head was on the pillow.

“What are you doing back there?”

“Wondering how I can be so lucky.”

She moved until she could see my face. “Is it true that you can go really deep this way?”

“Yeah.” Admiring her pretty pussy and little pink star, I wanted her as much as I had the previous night.

“I think I'm wet enough if you take it easy.”

She was. I spread her lips with my fingers and wiped my drooling cock over her opening.

“Do it, Brad.”

I carefully pushed just the head inside her.

“More.”

With slow, gentle strokes, I advanced.

“More,” she moaned, pushing herself onto me until my balls were against her. “I didn't know a guy could go this deep!”

“Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah. I'm just wondering how good it will feel when we move.”

I pulled out about half-way, and using my hands on her hips, pulled her onto me again.

“Do that again,” she said. “A lot.”

Her first orgasm came when I was thrusting gently, playing with whatever parts of her I could reach. The second happened when she had gotten back up on her hands and knees, and we were fucking vigorously, flesh smacking against flesh. Her final one seemed to be triggered by my own. As she felt me swell inside her, she hissed, “Yes!” and pushed herself back against me hard. Each pulse of my cum earned a whimper from her.

We shared some pillow talk, and the kind of cuddle I had begun to crave with her. I was almost ready to doze off again with her head on my chest when her cellphone rang.

“Who would call at this time in the morning?” I complained.

“Mom, probably,” Rose replied, scampering out of bed and over to her room.

While I was getting towels for our shower, I heard her walk back into my bedroom. I joined her on the bed as she said, “Really? Sure, Mom, I'd love to!”

“Hi, Aunt Barbara!” I said, loud enough that I thought she would hear.

“You say you want Brad to come along? Brad, your semester doesn't start until mid-August, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Mom and Dad want us to come visit them for a couple weeks this summer!”

“Cool.”

Rose listened for a moment, and then nearly shouted, “Mom! Why would you ask that?” She looked at me, shock and worry obvious on her face. “Yes, I can put you on speaker.” She put a finger over the mouthpiece and said, “You gotta help me here!” Then she hit the speaker icon.

“Brad?”

“Hi, Aunt Barbara.”

“How's my favorite young man?”

“I'm good! What's this about you wanting both of us to come to see you?”

“We miss you both, so we want you to visit. To get our place ready, we have to ask both of you something.”

Rose's nails were starting to hurt my arm where she had grabbed me.

“We're still furnishing the house, so I need to know if you would need one bedroom or two.”

We stared at each other, slack-jawed.

“Kids,” Barbara said, “it's time you knew some things. Paul and I always hated hiding stuff from you, Rose, and I know your family did too, Brad. We knew we needed to tell you after the funeral, but there never seemed to be a good time. But now, with us pretty much out of the picture, and you two living together, I think it's time both of you know the truth.”

“What are you talking about, Mom?” Rose asked.

“This is probably going to come as a big shock to you, Brad, but, well,... I don't know how to say it.”

“Say what?”

“Your mother isn't dead.”

It took me a minute to find my voice. “Um, I was pretty much of a wreck for a while there, but that looked like Mom in the morgue.”

“Yes, the woman who raised you was killed, along with your father.”

“I don't understand.”

“My sister was infertile. She and your father found someone to carry his child.”

There was a long silence.

“I'm your mother, Brad.”

“That means he's my half-brother?” Rose exclaimed.

“The woman everyone knew as Brad's mom was my sister. Her husband was Paul's brother. And mine. And hers. Our parents had four children, two boys and two girls. We were always close, and when we became sexually active, we learned from each other. Eventually, Paul and I decided to live as man and wife, same as our siblings did.”

“So, you were all, like, committing incest?” Rose asked.

“In the eyes of the law, yes. But we all loved each other very much.”

“I don't understand,” I said. “I remember my grandparents – your parents – from when I was real little. That means they knew about this.”

“There were fraternal twins. They encouraged it. Listen kids, there's more. Rose, Paul isn't your father.”

“Who is?”

I knew the answer.

Barbara confirmed it. “We buried him alongside his wife, honey. That wasn't your uncle. That was our older brother, the man Paul and I wanted to father my second baby, too. Paul's sperm count is awfully low, and we all used to play together anyway, so when we decided we wanted a baby of our own, it was pretty easy to make it happen.”

“We're brother and sister,” I said.

“Yes, as were your father and I. It runs in the family, I guess,” Barbara said. “That's why I asked if you needed one room or two.”

I looked at Rose, sitting naked on my bed, a smear of my cum drying on her thigh. “One room is fine, Mom.”
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