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Confessions of a Slutty Cousin Ch. 01

By: LowLullaby



I'd never been in a room where the sexual tension was thicker. Nothing had ever felt so dangerous, so near to eruption. I had never so much feared for my flesh, or wanted so much.

The irony? Was that this was at the family reunion. Not very close family, mind, but blood and married, nonetheless. 

After my father left, most of my immediate family didn't keep up too well with his side of the family. He certainly didn't. But I alone still felt obligated to be there, once in a while, to go into the lion's den. I'd never fit in well with his people—they were very old-fashioned, a little backward, and insufferably moralizing, nine days out of ten--and they weren't too keen on me, either, what with the tattoos and piercings and immodest clothing and all, but, I figured, they were blood. I used to think that meant something. But maybe I had ulterior motives, too—maybe I just wanted to see Jacob. It's hard to tell, sometimes. And I stayed, even when things started getting scary.

I suppose it started earlier in the weekend, even before I saw the danger signs. When I arrived on Friday afternoon, you see, the very first body I saw there was the tanned, almost-athletic frame of my favorite cousin, Jacob, who had just beaten me there.

Our beautiful Jacob! 

He was standing there with his wife, Becca, talking to Uncle Stuart in the driveway, and clearly unhappy about it. Stuart (who is actually my father's cousin, but we still called him "Uncle") was the preacher at the family church--"Stuart the steward," he'd say he was, laughing his deep, booming, pulpit laugh and touching your head with all the gravitas of God. Jake clearly wanted to get away--I couldn't blame him--but I couldn't work up the courage to liberate him. I'd had a crush on him that knocked my knees since I was a little kid and he was a teen bully about to run off to the army. It had mellowed out over the years, but seeing him again, now, looking better than he had since he was 20, it all came back and shot through my stomach like a stray cannonball, and I couldn't have spoken to him to save him.

Now, I should make one thing clear: I hate Becca. I do; I hate my Jacob's wife, and I have since before I met her.

That is how much I wanted this man. There was enough lust there to get past the guilt and confusion surrounding his being my elder cousin and still manage to crest over and make me hate and be jealous of what everyone told me was a perfectly lovely woman, for marrying him. I at least had the decency to feel guilty about that, and feel like I had to be extra nice to her to make up for it or maybe hide it, but it didn't change anything. In fact, it's probably what eventually got me into most of my trouble at the reunion. But I'll get back to that later.

As I headed in from the street, keeping my eyes down as I passed them and hoping to be ignored, Jake caught me. Much to my delicious embarrassment! "Hey--Kid!" he shouted, before catching me by the elbow. He nearly knocked me off my balance, with as hard as he tugged me for a hug, and I fell into the solidness of him with an "Oomph!," mashed up against his chest with my breasts threatening to climb out of the too-low cut of my V-neck. I scrabbled a little over his biceps to try to steady myself. "Hey, easy Kid," he teased, wearing his patented boyish, shit-eating grin, "don't act so excited to see me."

"Sorry, Jacob…" I was scarlet, and tried to disentangle myself, but he practically had to set me on my feet. I think Stuart was giving me a Look. 

Immediately, Jake grabbed my duffle bag. "Sorry, Uncle Stuart, gotta' get the kid settled in," he said, trying to get away, and he planted his palm on my back and steered me away and into the house, marching double-time. "So, Kid," he asked loudly, "you're back from school? It's been too long since we've seen you. How long you in town for?"

I didn't really have time to answer between questions. I just stammered up at him and tripped over the steps trying to get into the house, and finally stumbled to a standstill when he stopped and let me rest in the dark hallway off of the entryway. He stunned me with an exaggerated kiss of gratitude, declared me a hero for getting him out of that, and then laughed at my gaping. I wasn't doing so well with the whole being nonchalant thing.

"Don't leave your mouth hanging open like that, Kiddo," he scolded me playfully, "or you'll wind up with something in it." He aimed two fingers at it obscenely, to show me his drift.

"Jacob!" I swatted him, catching my breath.

"What? You're asking for it." He was laughing, again. Jacob laughed a lot.

When I went to swat him a few more times, falling back into the whole baby cousin dynamic too easily, he dropped my bag and caught my arms (in self defense, of course). He held them high over my head as I struggled, laughing despite myself as I tried to kick him, instead. 

"Ha, kid. See?" he said. "You get yourself in trouble, doing that. You better watch out."

"Bully," I said, pouting and kicking him again.

"Oh, you like it." He raised my arms higher over my head, forcing me onto tiptoe. "You know you like it."

"Oh, right, I'm sure," I tried, but I almost winced at how unconvincing my attempt at sarcasm sounded. I did like it. 

I knew I was getting caught at it, and I panicked a little, struggling in vain to free my wrists, if just for some kind of distraction. But I'd had no idea just how strong my cousin was. Not until I tried to bend my knees and heave my weight low, to break his grip.

It didn't break. I just lost my footing, and stayed basically upright, suspended by the wrists from his strong, broad hands. He set me straight, again, but up against the wall, this time, and shifted both my wrists to his left hand, still keeping his grip easily. Something inside me twitched at that, and I tried to hate myself for being pleased. Then he pinned me with his body.

I thought I'd snapped, that I was having some kind of daydream! He felt heavy and warm and I could smell him and feel his breathing and--then he just started to tickle me with his free hand. That made more sense. He'd been tickling me since I was five, ever the aggressor. But this time he tickled me until I couldn't breathe, and until I was squealing for mercy. He tickled me until I was jerking desperately (and uselessly) against him to get away.

I read somewhere that that kind of tickling, painful and unrelenting, can be a form of sexual aggression.

Jake only let up when I was twitching weakly and turning to dead weight in his arms, the fight run completely out of me, and I was almost certain I felt something like steel jutting into my belly, from below his belt, hot and unyielding. I didn't say anything, just leaned up against him under the cover of exhaustion. I think he was looking down my shirt, while he laughed at me again (less smoothly than before), and propped me up against the wall, away from him. I sucked for air, my chest heaving. I wasn't sure my legs could hold me up.

"Kid, what'd I tell you about leaving your mouth hanging open?"

I sank a little lower against the wall, all of me hot and tingling and weak. "Gonna'... gonna' wind up with a boyfriend," I panted, defeated, but still trying to mouth off. I thought I could see the outline of him in his pants, even in the dim light.

"That's right!" he said, still chuckling. "You watch out, okay?" he warned, patting my hip affectionately. "I'm gonna' put your bag in your room—you're going to be in the third on the left, here." He pointed.

I wondered how he knew which room was mine.

I watched him take my bag, and got a strange thrill from it; I was convinced that he was making sure that I knew he knew which room was mine, was proving to me that he could just walk right into it. Almost as if he was proving that he could tell me where to sleep, and I would do it.

Then again, I'd have done almost anything he told me to do. I think he knew that, too.

He must have been there when Aunt Joan parsed out rooms, I rationalized. Most people coming to the reunion lived near enough to just sleep at their homes, but some people were staying in hotels, and a lot of us were staying here in Rudy and Joan's multitude of rooms. I was coming a long distance, and definitely didn't have cash to spare for a room or gas, so I'd opted to stay with the brood, despite misgivings. At least Jake would be staying here, too--that could make up for a lot.

I closed my eyes and tried to catch my breath as he settled things in my room. It took him longer than seemed normal, but I didn't think too much about it. When he passed me on the way out, he lightly pinched my side and told me I was looking good, all grown up. Becca had finally come in with Stuart, and Jake trotted out to catch her, leaving me to try to look less disheveled and debauched before Uncle Stuart could catch me. Stuart had never approved of my Loose Looks.

Unfortunately, Uncle Stuart caught me, straightening the short jean skirt I had on. He fired a look of disdain as I bent over double to fix the strap on my sandal. My skirt so rode high up my legs that I might have even flashed him a tiny glimpse of my little lavender panties, although I'm not sure. I think I generally got a little more brazen around that lot out of stubbornness; if they weren't going to like me, anyway, I supposed I might as well give them something to disapprove of!

Famous last words, right?

It certainly worked, anyway. "Erin," Stuart boomed, "the Lord watches you at every moment. Do you really think He would approve of this?" I tried to not let him see my eyes rolling. "Take care that you don't offend His gaze, little Sister."

"Thanks, Uncle Stuart. I'll try." I tugged my shirt down, to arrange it, letting just a little bit more of my cleavage show. I'm not sure; maybe I was trying to provoke him, but who knows into what. In any case, he left quickly, and I felt I had gained a small victory.

After that, the afternoon went by in a blur of people, many of whom I'd never met before and wouldn't remember after the weekend was over. As far as I was concerned, Jacob was about the only worthwhile relation of the lot, and even he was an asshole in his own right. Still, I tried to make fairly nice with the lot of them, even spending far too much time with Becca (out of the guilt for hating her that I mentioned earlier).

And it was Becca who went up to Uncle Stuart, and Jamie and David (a pair of my second cousins), afterwards, and made what I can only imagine must have been very damning, insinuating remarks about my character and virtue.

I think Becca maybe doesn't like me any more than I like her. Maybe she could tell I wanted to jump her husband.

In any case, after she spoke to them, I couldn't shake the feeling of being stared at, the rest of the evening--mostly because at least one of them was looking at me at any given time. Jamie, in particular, was keeping his eyes below my neck, as if he was trying to spot a loose seam somewhere. After about twenty minutes of being aware of his staring at me that way and offering a running commentary to his brother, David, I started to lose the battle of wills, and wished I'd worn something a little less revealing. I was sure I was covered, but every time I sat down or started to cross my legs, I worried about whether or not they could get a glimpse of my panties. Every time I reached across the table or bent over something, I was aware of just how much of my chest was exposed.

There is something obscene about a woman in uncomfortably little clothing, I suppose. Almost anything can be an acceptable outfit if you're comfortable in it, I've always thought, but take away your confidence and almost anything can be scandalously skimpy. Art nudes are fine, and Victorian women were able to look trashy and naked in ruffled pants and corsets. Maybe it's a kind of self-humiliating mechanism we've got, constantly checking our clothes and sort of subconsciously trying to cover up, inadvertently drawing attention exactly where we don't want it. And I shouldn't even mention what it does to men. I might as well have been wearing a "Harrass me!" sign in bright neon. Jamie and David were watching me like wolves.

It was David who finally suggested, around 9 o'clock, that the kids and grandparents head back to their rooms, hotels, homes, and so forth, to be well rested for the next day's festivities (I was stuck with these people all weekend, you see). They'd set up several card tables in the den, plenty for all the adults remaining to get in on one game or another. Well, I wasn't really ready to go to sleep, and I do love cards, but I was intending to make my excuses, anyway, and go run to hide in my room. Just as Jamie was about to protest my stammering apologies, though, Jake grabbed me around the shoulders.

"Come on, Kid, you're not bailing on us now, are you? It's still early."

Jamie backed off (nobody really messed with Jake), but Jacob still delivered me unto eventual danger by insisting I come join in a game of Hearts with him and a couple I'd met but didn't remember. I couldn't deny him. And at least it meant I wasn't trapped in the Poker game Jamie and David were working up, or Pinochle with Stuart the Steward. For a while, at least.

I was only barely managing to relax, when on the way down the dark hall for a bathroom break, a giant hand gripped my shoulder and stopped me where I stood.

Stuart.

"If something offends the Lord's gaze, it must be plucked out, little Sister." I sank a little, hissing, under the painful squeeze he gave my neck. I didn't think that was how the line went, but I managed to wisely keep my mouth shut. His hot breath was on my shoulder, then, as he leaned down to whisper, "You are a danger to the faithful gathered here." 

I think if he hadn't let go right then, I'd have been begging forgiveness, but as it was, I was able to run to the bathroom with a little more of my dignity intact than I might have otherwise had.

When I got back to the den, I found that my place at Jacob's side had been taken from me—by Becca, naturally. I halted in the doorway, only to have Stuart push past me into the room, his tall, hard frame pressing solidly and roughly against me as he muscled by, smoking with all the righteous fire of his anger.

My skin felt charged, where he'd rubbed against me. I coughed, to cover the choking noise that was starting in my throat, and found a few heads turned my way.

That was when I felt the tension. 

I'm convinced that while I was out of the room, more people had been brought into the loop about my apparently loose morals, or dangerous influence, or whatever, because more of the women were looking at me distrustfully, and more of the men with interest. Apparently Becca works fast. 

In fact was sure there were at least six men in the room who wanted to--maybe intended to--fuck me, if I was any judge of things. Stuart and Jacob were among them. Visions of incestuous gang-bangs filled my head, and I started to back out of the room. I was starting to sweat.

But Jamie gave me a shit-eating grin, and gestured to the empty seat he had next to him, even pulling it out for me. I knew better, I'm sure I knew better, but I stopped, shamed into it by his gesture. I reluctantly approached, like a dog that's afraid it's only being whistled up so you can kick it, and sat. At least it got me out of the spotlight. 

Jamie hugged me as soon as I sat down, but "missed" his mark as he reached around me, brushing against one of my breasts. My bra didn't come up high enough to put a second layer between us, and it startled me, so I jumped and yelped a little.

"Hey, E, settle down," he teased, letting go. "How you been? Finally back from college!" He slapped my shoulder in that way that means 'be a good sport,' and didn't let me answer. "You look, uh, different. Doesn't she, Dave? Since we saw her last time?"

"She certainly does," David agreed, not looking up from his cards. I almost jumped again, when I realized he was sitting immediately to my other side. How didn't I notice that? I was surrounded!

There were a lot of ways I looked different, but I knew exactly what he meant: I'd bloomed late, definitely since I'd last seen much of this side of the family, and I'd finally come into a healthy pair that I didn't try to hide (because, why? Really?). Plus, I'd moved into a decrepit high-rise in San Francisco, and going up and down four flights every day had given me legs and an ass that wouldn't quit, a fact I was a little bit proud of. 

To these horny twenty-somes, I must have looked like a peach that had finally ripened, from a teen in frumpy sweaters to a sexed up 22 year old. 

Still, I feigned ignorance. "I, um, I cut my hair short," I tried, "and it's gotten blonder over the summer…"

"I don't think that's it…" David murmured, dealing the cards.

"The--the nose stud, then. The eyebrow ring, the--the vine tattoos going around my wrists--"

"No, something else," Jamie said. "That's okay, we'll figure it out eventually."

They wouldn't let me go to bed, after that. Table after table broke up and went home or to their rooms, my Great Aunt Anne left the Poker game, and her husband John gave up soon after. But whenever I would start to stand up to make my excuses, Jamie would catch me and pull me back down, and insist, "No, no, at least one more hand…"

Soon enough, the room was empty, except for me, Jamie, David, and Paul, who was a third cousin once-removed-ish that had taken interest in the proceedings a couple of hours before.

If they hadn't been refilling my drink, all night, I think I might have been okay. I might have been able to just firmly push past them, insist that I was going to bed and that I'd see them in the morning, but as it was, I was just not quite steady enough to get away, and when Jamie pulled, I fell back into my seat. And I hadn't been quite strong-willed enough to turn down the drinks, not with all the stress of the day. By midnight, I was finally relaxed, for the first time that day, and also more than a little drunk. And exhausted. I sighed, dropping my cards on the table, and sank down in my chair to lay my head on the back, to rest and gather my wits.

The moment my eyes closed, though, a hand slid into my purple V-neck, and I froze. I didn't even open my eyes. Did they think I'd passed out? 

A sudden heat pooled between my legs, in spite of myself, as Jamie pulled my breast free, shoving the shirt aside and my bra cup down.

"I think that's one of the big differences," he muttered to David, snickering.

"They're not really that big," came David's voice.

"Big enough, man. She used to have, like, no tits," Jamie reminded him, "just a couple years ago."

"True. Pull up her shirt to her neck," he said. My shirt was gathered up above my breasts, and another hand went behind for my bra strap, fumbling to unhook it. I felt a tug, and then I could hear the snaps being undone on my little jean skirt.

"They must think I'm really, really out," I thought to myself, "Why am I pretending?"

"Because if I move, now," I answered myself, "they'll realize I was awake and letting them do this." And then, "Why am I letting them?" 

"I'm scared," I insisted. 

"Well, so, pretend to wake up suddenly," I replied, "and freak out and run." 

"But. . ." 

But I was frozen. And I was very, very hot.

My nipples were getting hard and sensitive, with the rough lace edges of my lavender bra brushing up against them under the inexpert pawing of Jamie. At least, I think it was him. My skirt was just about to come loose (the snaps went all the way down), and the denim, sliding away down my thigh, was raising goose bumps. I drew my knee in, in spite of my best efforts at playing dead, and a less familiar voice piped up, uncomfortably, "Hey, guys… I think she moved…"


Confessions of a Slutty Cousin Ch. 01



It must have been Paul. Jamie jumped, dropping my breasts like a thief playing dumb. "Oh, shit, man, I, I forgot you were in the room…"

"Uh, yeah, I figured."

"Shit, um…"

Paul was conciliatory. "No--don't--I mean, don't worry about it. Don't stop on my account."

"Fuck," I thought. 

"Cool, man, cool," said Jamie. "Uh, you want to…?"

"Nah… I mean, maybe, but… I think I'll just hang out, maybe, for now. If that's cool."

Ah.

"Sure, man, whatever." I could hear Jamie grinning, and did consider getting up to walk away, right there. Jamie has one of the top five most aggravating grins in the state. But then David (I think) went back to sliding my skirt free, and I could picture him doing it--cold eyes watching as every new inch of me was uncovered, maybe giving me an unnerving, masterful sort of smile--and I was hooked back in. David is one of those rare men who can combine a look of sheer boredom with predation, like they don't give a shit about you but are ready to tear you apart, anyway. It's a dangerous sort of look, and achingly sexy. Even in a family member.

"Matched set," he murmured, letting out a snort of a laugh, running his finger along the inside of the hip of my panties (which did, in fact, match my bra).

"Dude," Jamie opined cleverly, "she knew she was getting fucked."

"Probably not by us."

Jamie laughed. "Hey, plans change…"

Before I could work up the courage to pretend to wake up (which I was about to do, I kept telling myself), my bra and shirt were grabbed and yanked up over my head and arms. I gasped, and opened my eyes, and tried to at least look a little bleary eyed, which wasn't hard, considering the booze.

"Good morning, sunshine," said a smiling David, dropping my clothes and pulling me up by the elbows. He took advantage of my momentum to propel me forward onto the table, bending me over it and kicking my knees apart. In a moment, my (soaked) panties were down around my thighs, David's fly was unzipped, and he was breaking the wrapper on a condom he'd pulled from somewhere. Before I could even think to protest, he had nudged his way in like this was everyday, and was working up an easy, unhurried pace.

Where had my chance to protest, freak out, and run gone? What was I doing just standing here, getting fucked?

"Dripping," David reported, loudly, and the others laughed, Jamie clapping triumphantly. "So, cousin, were you looking forward to this?"

I closed my eyes tightly and turned my face into the table, hoping to hide in my hair. "Oh, fuck," I thought, again.

"Hey," David scolded, lightly, "no use playing dumb. Come on, either push back or put a little fight into it. At least pretend you wanted to get away with your virtue in tact."

Well, I had thought I did, anyway. I gamely reached out across the table, trying to find something to grip for leverage, to maybe crawl away, but my pussy was swollen and slick and burning up around him, making it harder to fight and mean it. You could definitely call my attempts half-hearted.

"Look, she's reaching for you, Paul…" David didn't sound like he'd even broken a sweat, and I was there, already panting on the table. "Maybe she wants to suck your dick for you."

"I don't know…" Paul, the gentleman.

David laced his fingers in my hair, and lifted my head with a fistful of it. "Don't you, cousin? Why don't you ask Paul if you could, pretty please, suck him off?"

"Paul's pretty enough," I thought, before my somewhat wilted sense of decency kicked in and advised me not to respond, especially not in that way. But then David kicked in, and twisted his fist with my hair still inside it, tipping my head back. My mouth was wide open as I grunted and winced, so the groan that came out of me, when he very suddenly slammed the full force of himself into my pussy, was oddly amplified.

His free fingers dug hard into my hip, as he repeated his demand with more menace, "Ask him, Erin." He slid his hand under me to reach for my clit and rub it very, very slowly, and the weight of my situation finally hit me. Maybe it's that he called me by name, but somehow his being blood was now more real to me than when he was calling me 'cousin.'

I shook. "I--I--"

"Say, 'I want to suck you off, Paul.'"

"I--want to--"

"'Suck'…"

"Suck--Paul's cock--"

"Close enough." How generous! "Say, 'Please, Paul.'"

"Please, Paul… " I think I hoped he wouldn't believe me, but considering he'd been ready to watch me get debauched while passed out, maybe it would have been even better for him if he didn't believe. Who knows? In any case, my pussy betrayed me, and I moaned from down so deep that it could have come from inside David's cock.

"Say, 'pretty please.'"

"Pretty please," I whimpered, not sure why, but Paul took me up on it, and for the first time in my life, I had two cocks in my body at once. Oh, I'd had plenty of dildos and vibrators in at the same time, but never two real, flesh and blood cocks. Contrary to Becca's opinion, I am not a slut. Wasn't a slut. Whatever.

David considerately held my face up by the hair, for Paul, craning my head towards him where he stood, up against the table. They couldn't work out a rhythm, but I tried gamely to keep it interesting, rolling my tongue on my third cousin's prick like he was a candy cane. I didn't realize I was trying to hump David's fingers until he took them away, leaving me to sweat and moan and persist unable to come.

"Fuck it," I thought, "I'm here, I might as well." But as soon as I slid my hand down the table towards myself, David trapped it under his own and leaned on it. I whimpered around Paul's dick.

"You can't even wait 'til we're done? You'll get your chance. I know you're eager, and all, but have a little patience."

The coolness in his voice was maddening! How could he be riding me like this and still sound so calm? I squeezed him, hard, hoping for some kind of reaction, anything, but even that backfired.

"That's what I thought. Keep doing that," he said, as if I'd been boring him and was only now catching on. When I didn't, he pulled my arm around to twist it up against my back. "I said, keep doing that."

I squeezed him as hard and as often as I could. I did everything I could to try to get Paul to come, too, even using my one free hand to reach up and handle him, rather than fight for my freedom, somehow, not that I can imagine it having done much good.

"Man," Jamie said, letting out a whistle. "I want in on that slut."

"Just a minute," David replied very casually, "I'll be done with her cunt soon."

Paul came suddenly, at that, and choked me on his cock, trying to ride it through. I coughed on him and swallowed at him, and he hissed, slowly pulling out and wiping himself clean on my face, but to his credit, he looked shocked, afterwards, that he'd done it.

"Well done." That was David, too. "Why don't you take over there, instead, Jamie? Seems like she's pretty good at it."

"Naw, if she's gonna' suck me off, I want her on her knees. I gotta' see those tits."

David sighed, a paragon of patience. "All right. Just a sec, then. Squeeze and hold, Erin," he instructed me, pulling nearly out of me. When I squeezed hard on the head of his cock, he ran the whole thing through me, in one good, violent thrust, and I yowled. When I let go, he slapped my ass and demanded, "Hold it, or I'll use your ass. That's probably a little tighter, isn't it?"

I obeyed. It hurt, and I thought my flesh was burning, but my pussy was so wet that even my fighting to keep him out didn't slow him down. He slammed through me eight more times, that way, before grunting his climax and grinding himself against me.

"Good girl," he said, sounding just slightly winded now, before pulling out, tying off the spent condom, and dropping it onto my pile of clothes. He pulled my panties the rest of the way off, and tossed them next to my skirt, and then dragged me off of the table, to set me down on my knees. I swooned a little, but braced myself up on my palms. 

David gestured a pretty clear, "She's all yours" to Jamie, once I'd almost caught my breath. His cock was closing off my throat before I could quite manage it, though.

The others sat back to watch, as Jamie pulled my hair and rode my face. He was a much more generous moaner, and often grunted with his thrusts. I couldn't have done much for him if I'd tried, he just wanted me to hold still and be fucked.

The others wanted a little more, though.

"She should be playing with her tits," Paul offered, a little shyly.

David helpfully gave me a kick. "You heard him. Play with them." 

So I did. 

"And rub your clit, too," David added. "I told you you'd get your chance; this is it. On your own, with us watching, while you suck your cousin's cock, with another cousin's cum on your face and bruises from this one in your cunt." I closed my eyes and moaned my horror. But I obeyed.

My hands were trembling, but I used the left one to play with my breasts, pinching and twisting at my nipples and trailing my nails around them. My right hand I slowly slid down, and set in on my clit. I know I was in tears, and my pussy ached from the beating it had taken, but I was so turned on, so highly strung with it, that I gasped around Jamie's dick at the first touch. I couldn't help but think of how wrong this was, even though I'd lusted after a closer relation than these for years. I was being taken advantage of--by family, by second cousins--and here I was rubbing myself off over it.

It was absolutely delicious.

At least I had the cover of sucking Jamie off. I moaned on him and rubbed my clit, and I didn't have to think too much about it, or really get a good look at them watching me. I didn't really have to admit to it, if you know what I mean.

That is, until Jamie came down my throat. And onto my chin, and down onto my tits, and my leg, and… And I still wasn't done. I think I was panicking too much to focus.

So David, ever the ringleader, dragged me up onto my feet, and put me back on the table. "Why don't you get back up on your knees, Erin? Do that up here where we can really see."

I shakily clambered up onto my knees, and tried to find something to look at that wasn't a cousin, finally settling on the overhead lamp. "Can't I--" I was surprised to hear my own voice, "can't I--go to bed, instead?"

"What, and masturbate there, where we can't see the fruits of our labors?" David shook his head. "No, I think you should do it right here. In fact, maybe we can find something for you to fuck yourself with, make it more interesting. Jamie, go look in the kitchen for a bottle or a dust brush or zucchini or something, all right?"

"Man, why do I have to go?"

"What, you don't want to be the one to decide what she shoves up her cunt?"

"Dude…" And Jamie was gone.

"Keep going while he's gone," David commanded. I had stopped, so I started again, trying to keep my focus and not pay too much attention to the clinks and clangs and rustling noises coming from the kitchen. Maybe if I finished before he got back--

"Slowly." He interrupted the train of thought like he could hear every bit of it. I couldn't help it; I went slowly.

"Okay, I couldn't find a zucchini, but they have a fat cucumber for salad tomorrow."

David took it and looked at it thoughtfully. "Well, it's pretty cliché, but for a good reason. All right, then." He tossed it onto the table, in between my knees. "Let's see you fuck that, then."

The sense of being nothing more than a worthless game he was playing overwhelmed me. I was a dog performing tricks. I went red, and tried to ignore the firm, chilly pressure on my leg, just determinedly rubbing my clit and watching the ceiling fan.

It was Jamie who thwarted me, this time, unceremoniously spitting on the cucumber before trying to force it into my pussy where I knelt. I wriggled and twisted, and I thanked God that he couldn't get it in, but David, ever able, just knocked me back onto the table, and held me down in an uncomfortable arch, with my calves and feet still under me, my clunky sandals biting into me.

He took the cucumber from Jamie and slowly slicked it by rubbing it up and down and twisting it, between my pussy lips, making sure it was well coated. I shivered hard from the chill of it. "Now, cousin, would you rather we pushed it up your ass? Or would you rather be a good girl and dick yourself with it?"

I couldn't answer. I gaped. But when he started to slip it back towards my ass, I yelped, "No!" and he stopped. He took my wrist, put my hand on the cucumber he had lubed (sort of), waited for me to close my fingers around it, and then aimed it for me.

"There you go," he murmured, and started to push my wrist for me, helping me rape myself with the thick, hard, deeply cold squash. He let go of my throat to gather my free hand and place the pad of my middle finger back onto the hood of my clit, where it had been. He pressed down on the nail, rubbing my finger in a circle that I could feel right through my own hand. After several moments of this, he withdrew, leaving me on autopilot.

So, for their amusement, I fucked their dildo in and out of myself, having to push hard to even get it in, each time. It was nearly too big for me to take in, but only nearly. It was very slow to come up to temperature, absorbing the heat of my pussy and still chilling me, but by the time I saw Paul's cock coming to life behind me, in his hand, I was warm enough to benefit from the rubbing, again. I could see, just barely on the edge of my vision, him working his dick slow and steady, matching my pace with the surrogate, and I knew he would come on me, again. I was going to be a mess, trying to get back to my room. I closed my eyes, and rubbed my clit like I meant it.

A tingling heat started to flush into my pussy, again, and I felt it working back up to fever pitch when Paul broke me out of my reverie. "Push it harder," he insisted, "faster. And--further in."

I didn't wait for David to scold me into doing it, so I just followed his orders. I wished I could get a better hold on the thing, but I managed to work it pretty smoothly, giving myself a rough pounding with it and panting. I rubbed harder and faster at my hood, clinging desperately to my rise toward climax, hoping it would at least mean freedom, for the night. I imagined the waxy, dark green thing jammed eight inches up me, and how soon I might be cum-spattered, and as soon as the white gobs smacked, cold, onto my tits, I yelped and spasmed my orgasm. I lost my grip on the cucumber, and it tumbled out, covered in my cum as I rode my orgasm as far as I could, twitching against my fingers.

It was quiet for a few moments.

"Man, they were right," Jamie said, finally, stunned, "she really is a slut."

"Yep. Erin, remember to wash that really well before putting it back in the fridge. And clean your lipstick up off of the table, it smeared, earlier. Oh, and take care of the condom, too, while you're at it."

And they left me there, just like that.

I threw away the condom. I cleaned my lipstick off of the table. I washed and put away the cucumber, and managed to pull my clothes onto my sticky, messy body before stumbling back through the house, in the dark, to my room. I passed out almost immediately, on top of the sheets, filthy, and slept more deeply than I had ever slept before.



Confessions of a Slutty Cousin Ch. 02



In the morning, I woke up barely able to open my eyes, from the cum sticking some of my eyelashes together. I managed to clean up a little with some stale water from a bottle I dug out of my bag. It would be enough to get me to the shower, at least.

I peeled off the stiff clothing I was still wearing and put on the robe they'd left on the back of my door before tip-toeing further down the hall to the room I remembered the shower being in. I locked the door securely behind me.

It was probably the best shower I've ever had in my life. The dirtier you are, the better it feels to get clean, I think. I got to scrub off all that dried cum and wash it out of my hair, and try to gingerly rinse away the tender ache in my pussy, and the cloudiness in my head.

It had been fated to happen, I decided, as a hot flush crawled up my skin. The humiliation and pain and guilt were thrilling, and I hated and loved it. 

"What kind of whore am I that I liked being raped by my cousins?" I thought miserably, and pushed my finger down onto my clit, sliding wetly through the lips around it. "Still, I knew something was going to happen when I walked in there. They had me marked from the get-go."

I circled my clit with my fingertip over and over, until the water started to run cool and I gave up. "Too soon, somehow," I thought, and left the shower frustrated and unsatisfied.

I dried carefully and slipped back into the robe, making a dash back to my room.

I got dressed haphazardly, putting on my clothes based on the order they came out of the bag. I squeeze a stretch black miniskirt on, then one of my baby-blue knee socks, before pulling on the stretchy mock corset I'd brought of the same color. After I laced it up, I found the other sock, dug out my black boots and laced them on (they come up to just under the lacy tops of the socks, in case you were wondering).

But I couldn't find my underwear.

I pulled everything out of my bag, and laid it out on the mattress. I looked under the bed, scanned the floor, checked the empty drawers of the armoire, and found neither of the other two pairs of string bikini panties I'd brought with me.

"Fuck," I said aloud. I guessed I wouldn't be sitting down much, that day. Not that that was such a bad thing, with the pounding I'd taken the night before. But I still felt alarmed.

Could Jamie or David have snuck in while I was sleeping, and stolen them? Just to know I was walking around that way? What if I'd slept through something else? What if they came back tonight?

I rushed out to breakfast. I hoped I'd maybe be a little safer in the group, though I don't know who I thought might protect me. Maybe Jacob. But maybe not. 

When I saw him, though, I gave him a tight hug, desperate for some small sense of security. We broke, and he pulled out the chair next to him for me, grinning mischievously. 

"So," he said, "somebody sure got to bed late, last night."

"Who?" I asked, too quickly to not be suspicious. I sat down as cautiously as I could, trying not to look like I was tugging my skirt down as hard as I was.

"You, you little sneak. Whaddyou mean, 'who?' Are you picking up guys at your family reunion, Kid? Because that's pretty twisted, if so." He tickled my side, to show he was razzing.

"Actually..." I started, but before I could think of how to defend my name, or disparage my attackers, I was cut off by the sight of David stepping into the room, sitting down not far from them with a cup of coffee and a very relaxed air. He smiled at me.

"...We just stayed up late playing cards," I lied, quietly, disappointed.

"Uh-huh. I'll bet."

I fell silent.

David came to my defense. Nastily, I thought. "I'll vouch for her, and Paul and Jamie will, too. She was with us until almost 2 am."

I'd been hoping my silence and discomfort and really bad lying might alert Jacob to what had really happened, but that hope fell when my story was corroborated. Whatever Jacob thought of my virtue, he wouldn't expect I'd have been involved in a gang-bang in the game room.

But Jacob asked, "Is that so?" and my hope resurged, slightly--he sounded a little cold, and when I looked at his face, I could see in his forced smile that he was challenging David. It looked like any affection he might have had for his cousin had dissipated all at once in a wave of--of what? Distrust? Anger? Jealousy? 

"You shouldn't keep her up past her bedtime, Dave," he said. "This is a school-kid we're talking about, here, she needs her rest." The jab had a very serious undertone to it.

Jacob was warning David off of me.

I committed to stick by him all day.

That had its own dangers, I found out, but at least it kept the other boys off of me, for a while. Jacob pawed me in his usual fashion, half-wrestling, half-tickling, occasionally restraining just for the hell of it.

By lunchtime, though, Jacob was the one posing me troubles.

"Hey, Kid," he asked, pointing to a spot on the grass several feet in front of him, "what's that?"

"What's what?" I asked, confused.

"There's a bug there of some kind. You did biology or whatever, you know these kinds of things, what is it?"

"I took one Zoology class," I said, sure this didn't make me an entomologist. "Jake, I can't even see it..."

"So go take a closer look. By the sprinkler head." He swatted my butt to push me forward, and I went, reluctantly. I looked over the area he was pointing to, but I couldn't get a good look at anything on the ground, and I certainly didn't want to bend over, pantiless, in this skirt.

"I still can't see it from here, Jake..."

"So bend over! What, is your back broken?"

"I--my skirt's short, Jacob, I shouldn't..."

"You shoulda' thought of that before wearing it, then, shouldn't you? Bend over."

I closed my eyes, and felt my skin turn red. He must know, somehow, that I wasn't wearing underwear. How? Still, I couldn't refuse him. I couldn't refuse Jacob anything. 

I bent over as carefully as I could, trying to tug my skirt down and at least cover some of my snatch with it. But I still didn't see any bug.

"Nothing, Jake." I tried to sound scolding, but it was weak.

"Keep looking, Kid."

And then I was certain he knew. If he hadn't expected it, he'd have been teasing me about it, by now, but instead he was telling me to stay bent, to, in essence, keep flashing him. I could feel him staring at me.

My cousin--my beautiful Jacob--was staring at my pussy.

Desperately, breathlessly, I called back, "Jacob, it's... it's not here, anymore. It must be gone."

"Fine, fine, Kid," he said, his voice a little too light. "But if I see it again, I'll let you know."

"Okay, Jacob." I couldn't look at him. I kept my eyes on my boots as I walked back towards him, past him. "Hey, Jake..."

"Yeah?"

"I'm'onna'... I'm just gonna' go take a nap, I've got a headache. If anybody asks, tell them--tell them I'm out walking, or something, okay? Tell them I'm not here." I didn't want anyone else coming looking for me. God, I needed to soothe my nerves.

"You bet, Kid," he said. There was something strange about his voice, almost eager, restrained, but I gave up on trying to interpret it. I just tried to get back to my room as quickly as I could.

---

I woke up rather suddenly, to find myself on my stomach (I'd started out on my side like always), with a hot, damp pressure on my mouth. 

"Hand," my groggy brain finally identified it.

And then I realized I couldn't really breathe, from the weight of a solid man on my back. I could tell it was a man from the unmistakable erection pressing up against the cleft of my ass, through my skirt, though the size of the hand would have been enough. It was very large, and the fingers were thick and hard and long.

"Sorry I kept you waiting," was whispered against my ear. "Got held up on the way here. Do you want to undress or just do it through our clothes?" He let go of my mouth, so I could answer, and I tried to crane to see him, but the angle was bad and the room was dim.

I heard his fly unzip, and realized he was pushing my thighs apart. "Who...?" I blurted, because I still didn't recognize the voice, and the hand closed down on my mouth again.

"Shh, not so loud... Hey, if you want to play it that way, we can... 'Anonymous intruder breaks in and compromises young piece of ass's virtue...' Or 'dirty older relative sneaks into slutty girl's room and has his way with her,' that's probably more like it..."

I panicked, and started to struggle wildly, but he subdued me effortlessly, I'm not sure how. He reached to the nightstand, and produced what I was certain (once they were in my mouth) were my damp panties from the night before. He must have picked them off the floor before climbing on top of me.

With my mouth gagged roughly on the wad of panties, he was able to free his hand from my mouth, and grab both my wrists in it. He'd twisted my arms back behind my back, and folded them, and now he'd trapped them easily in one fist.

Jacob...? Could it be?

I couldn't believe it. I struggled, still, trying to wriggle free of his grasp, but it didn't seem to faze him. His other hand was free, then, and he used it to push my squeezing legs further apart as he sat back, between my thighs. His hard, thick fingers were soon probing my swollen pussy, twisting them around inside of me, and I moaned quietly before I could stop myself.

"Please, please be Jacob," I prayed.

That didn't mean I would stop struggling, of course. Oh, no.

"That's right," he whispered, "I'm going to teach you a thing or two, girl, about getting fucked." 

I moaned again.

I alternated between the certainty that I was being used by a stranger (or worse, David), and the certainty that Jake was pretending to force me. Both of them were almost unbearably hot possibilities, and my body struggled, in my confusion, to try to get away from the fat, hard cock now struggling to slide up into my pussy. I tried again to twist and crane my neck to see if it was really my favorite cousin running me through with his dick, but I still couldn't be certain.

Whoever it was fucked me fast and hard from almost the very beginning, running in my body like a manic piston. I was taking a pounding worse than the one David had given me.

But the thought of it all... I was so turned on I was dripping, and as he got slicker, he moved faster, went deeper, and I squealed into my gag, with my face buried in the pillow. I struggled, and got wetter, thought I would die if I couldn't come soon.

"Just been waiting for," my assaulter gasped, "Uncle or Daddy or someone to come fuck you, make women out of you, huh? Twisted, horny little slut..."

I was wailing, as quietly as I could. I begged, drooling around my gag, "Please, please, let me come, please," but it was unintelligible.

"You do like being held down, pushed around," he muttered. "Or did walking around like a whore with your snatch showing just get you too horny to care?"

There. Then I knew it had to be Jacob. I squeezed his cock in gratitude, and tried to push back to meet his pounding, which slowed him down and made him groan. I moaned, too.

Now I really was fucking my cousin.

But abruptly, then, he stopped, and I groaned as he pulled out of me. My pussy was twitching. I couldn't figure out what he wanted, why in the world he'd stop, but he started dragging me around, to change my orientation on the bed. It became clear when he forced my chin straight out onto the mattress, though, leaving me face to face with his cock.

Jacob was bent over me, still pinning my wrists, but his other hand gripped my mop of hair fiercely. "Since your mouth is always hanging open, I figured you wanted something in it. I'm going to take those panties out of your mouth, and you're going to suck my dick, and you're going to swallow my jizz. If you try to bite me, I'll just hump your ass instead," Jake warned. 

Why was everyone threatening me with ass rape, this weekend? I tried to open my mouth a little wider than my gag filled, to suggest I was willing, but he didn't notice.

"So," he went on, "you better be nice. Maybe if you're really nice," he panted, coming up from the whisper to a low mumble, "I'll go down on you. Or maybe I'll finger you, instead, Kid." 

I moaned deeply, hearing him call me that. 

This was my Jacob! Really, really my Jacob! And he was here, right now, just about to let me at his cock. 

He let go of my hair and pulled out the gag, setting it back on the nightstand, again. "Do you want to hump my hand?" he asked, as he pulled my head up by the hair again, just enough to slide his dick--still covered in the juice from my pussy--right down my throat.

I couldn't answer; I gagged on his cock, and hoped he'd withdraw it a little soon, because I couldn't breathe. Once he did, I "Mmmh!"d, and gasped for a breath, before he could push his dick into my throat again. Which he promptly did. I couldn't even manage to raise a panic for my breathing. If I were fated to die by gagging on something, I hoped it'd be Jacob's cock.

When he'd done that three or four more times and I was starting to manage to breathe relatively well in between, he whistled. "Wow, baby can deepthroat. I had--" he grunted, going in to the hilt, again, "--no idea... how much a slut you really must be." Again. "Nnh, and you're good at it." I was swallowing on his shaft, as much as I could, doing anything I could with my tongue when he moved, and he kept choking when I did. In a weird way, I was proud of myself, because I really didn't have much experience deepthroating (but, okay, yeah, enough), and I really wasn't all that bad. Generally, though, doing it at all is enough.

I was getting a little worried about asphyxiation, though. I moaned, whenever he pulled back, hoping to egg him on, and I licked desperately, and after not too much longer, now humping my face quick and short, he came, way down my throat. I coughed, and he pulled out quickly, to finish spurting onto my face, instead, while I choked and gasped for air. Before I really had my breath caught, my mouth was stuffed full of panties, again.

I sighed in relief when he let go of my hands, and I shifted my shoulders free, trying to shake the feeling back into my arms. Immediately, he'd rolled me over onto my back (still panting, trying to catch his own breath), and was warning me to behave while he flattened his palm low on my belly and leaned some of his weight into it. "In fact," he decided, "put your hands up over your head, and hold onto the bed. I'm warning you..."

I writhed, and did what he said, watching him eagerly, now that I could see him. My Jacob, my beautiful Jacob...

"Bend your knees," he demanded. "Put your ankles back against your ass. No, spread your legs wider than that." 

I obeyed, of course.

I felt like I'd been flayed. I was spread out so far, completely exposed, terrified and thrilled, and he was taking advantage of it, sliding his two middle fingers right into my cunt. I shuddered when he moved his thumb forward and teased my clit with the pad of it.

He started into a slow, soft, maddening rhythm with his thumb, only barely touching it, but he thrust his fingers haphazardly into me, sudden and random and hard. I started humping his hand, just like he'd said I would.

I fucked his hand desperately, trying to look inviting, encouraging. "That's right, honey," he said, teasing, "fuck me." I promise I only wanted to kick him a little.

I rolled my hips as much as I could, and tried to push down on him, doing most of the work. I blindly reached to try to pull his hand in closer against me, and I didn't even realize I'd broken the rules until he snapped, "Hey, none of that. Put them back." He pulled his hand away, and I groaned in frustration.

"Put them back," he insisted, and reluctantly, I did.

When he was satisfied I'd waited long enough, I guess, he ran each of his fingers into my pussy, one by one. I couldn't figure out what he was doing, but in an instant, he'd turned his hand and shoved his first two fingers in, and his littlest finger up my ass. I squealed, again, and grunted as he pumped hard into me. 

"I really should fuck your ass," he mused. "Maybe it'd make you hold still--you wouldn't be able to walk for a week, anyway," he boasted, "so you wouldn't go far." I moaned my plea for mercy, and tightened my grip on the bed to show I was a good girl.

He did show a little mercy, and moved his hand from my belly to my mound, so that his other thumb was on my clit. It'd slide over it and back if I humped him, I knew. So I humped him. Desperate and hard and panting like some bitch in heat, moaning as loudly as I could through the gag, I fucked his hand for all I was worth, and eventually came all over him.

"Damn, Kid," Jake murmured, and I could make out my favorite grin through the gloom of the room and melted. 

I let go of the bed, gingerly, and pulled my panties uncertainly out of my mouth, using them to wipe some of his cum off of my cheek. "Damn," I echoed, weak.

"So," he said, low, "maybe tonight when I come looking for you, you'll actually be here, right?"

I couldn't stop a little ghost of a moan, and he laughed at me. "I'll take that as a 'yes,'" he said, patted my leg, and after briefly arranging himself and wiping his hand off on my shirt from the day before, he snuck out.

"I'll try," I whispered as the door clicked shut.



Confessions of a Slutty Cousin Ch. 03



Stuart must have been able to smell sex at thirty yards, I decided, because after I snuck back out of my room, about a half hour later, to go to the bathroom for a cleanup, he was there. Glaring. Looming. I yelped, because he startled me, blocking the doorway, and my escape, completely.

"Temptress," he hissed, and backed me into the cramped little room, again, pushing the door shut behind him.

"Uncle Stuart," I pleaded, "I'm not--really, I'm--"

"You are no kin of mine, Jezebel, I cast you out of my line." His massive hands were curled around the straps of my corset, and he shook me, hard. I quailed.

I don't know if Stuart was always crazy, or whether I just brought it out in him.

"Please, I haven't... Can't you just..." I babbled. Something about the fire in his eyes was terrifying, and I tried to back away. "What do you want?" I finally asked, my voice almost squeaking, and then wished I hadn't. He seemed to think it was a proposition.

He shoved me, hard, against the wall. "Temptress!" he repeated, in a rage. "Sinful whore!"

All of a sudden, my face stung. I couldn't even process the fact that he'd slapped me, until the burning pain of it spread to my temples, and I just stood there, staring, in shock. My eyes watered.

"It's for your own good," he muttered, and I slowly began to realize that his hands were wandering over my body. Those hard, huge hands! "The stray lambs must be herded back into the fold. If the dog must bite them or the shepherd beat them with his staff to make it so, then this must they do..."

"Oh, God," I thought.

"You desperate Jezebel, rutting for seed, even among these holy men, even amongst your own blood..."

"I'm not the one cornering people," I wanted to protest, but my mouth had gone too dry to speak. My skirt was riding up my hip. My ounce of modesty came to my rescue at last, just soon enough for me to rouse and grip at the hem before it could expose me completely.

And with that, like I'd come out from under a spell of fear, I ducked out from under his arm, and made a break for the door.

Which Stuart, the nasty fucker, had locked. My unsuccessful turn of the knob, and my subsequent grasp for the lock, really only took a moment, I swear. I wasn't like one of those horror-movie damsels who can't figure out a knob to save her life, when the chips are down, but it was just enough of a pause for him to turn and catch me--he could almost reach across the length of the bathroom without trying, after all, as tall and long-limbed as he was.

"Jezebel!" he roared, and I wailed a little, as he wrangled me back, struggling, to the opposite wall, and with what seemed like no effort, he'd hefted me up it, and yanked my skirt up again. No matter how hard I shoved at him, spat at him, I couldn't wriggle free, and somehow I wound up with his dick in my snatch.

Are you keeping a tally? That's five family cocks in me, one way or another, in just about twenty-four hours of being there.

I'm not sure why I didn't try to claw his eyes out or pull his hair or bite him, but I think I was starting to believe him, about being a temptress and a whore to my cousins and uncles and all of that. I didn't want to fuck him, but I didn't really not want to, either, you know? It was sick and perverse and rough, and it was hard for me not to be turned on by that, even as scared as I was.

It was over in just a few minutes, and as he came—in me--I gave a little thanks for birth control, and hoped he hadn't picked anything up while returning any other little stray lambs to the fold. I slid back down the wall, and he left. I just stood there and gaped.

I cried a little, while I was cleaning his cum out of myself, but not much.

---

I tried to stay as near to Jacob as I could, the rest of the evening, but it was hard with Becca there, always staring at me a little too hard, always noticing (I was sure) how my make-up was mostly gone, how my skirt was wrinkled, something. 

I wanted to tell my cousin what had happened, though I wasn't sure what he'd think or do, and I wasn't even sure what result I would want from it. Would he be jealous, and protect me? Would he be upset, and not want to fuck me again, himself? Or would he be turned on? And did I really want him to protect me? Could I bear him not fucking me again?

Anyway, it was moot, with the harpy hanging over us, and calling David over to talk. To share ideas for the evening. To look.

I hate Becca!

See, it was Becca's fault that the mothers and children and wives all left, after dinner, to go to Great Aunt Anne's for bonding in the form of a movie night/sleepover. They promised digital animation or groups of mature blonde actresses, depending on whether you were in the living room or the family room (why are there two?), and none of it sounded particularly interesting to me. The rest could stay and watch the local college football game, or get back to their poker games.

I knew better. I swear I did. But what was I going to do? With them cajoling me--Becca to go with her ("Oh, it'll be fun, we'd just… love… to have you, um…"), convincing me I didn't want to go, and David cajoling me to stay? And Jacob not saying a word, but pushing his knee up against mine, under the table?

"They're--they're playing a rival of my school's, I should—I should stay to make sure they win. Sorry, Becca."

"Aw, too bad," she said in a tone that suggested the opposite. "Well, have fun with the boys, Erin. Don't stay up too late, though--you look like you've been run ragged! You need to get some rest!" 

Her 'concern' was grating, and I smiled. Stiffly. "Thanks. I'll try."

---

"Hey, Kid, what's say we blow this joint and go play some gin?"

The game we'd been watching had ended, and most of the assembled had decided to go home, go to bed, or hang around for the next game, but Jacob was standing up to exit. It took me a minute to get myself together, to figure out the dynamics of standing and keeping my skirt down, but I was eager to follow.

"That sounds great," I said, "I think I've had my fill of football for the night."

"Me, too," he said, low, and went off towards the game room.

I assumed that would just be a brief stop before bed, just a decoy, but once I caught up, he sat me down by one of the tables and handed me a pack of cards. When I looked up at him a little blankly, he said, "You go ahead and shuffle, I'm just going to get a couple drinks." He disappeared into the kitchen.

"Maybe that's what he meant by gin," I wondered, and obeyed. I could have used a gin and tonic. I shuffled distractedly and way too many times, but I was too busy looking around the room, making sure no one else was there, to really care about the deck.

How I missed the guys coming in, then, I don't know. My heart must have been beating too loudly to hear over. I could only barely hear the cards as they stuttered into one another.

I yelped and lost hold of them, scattering the cards widely over the table, when two firm hands dropped onto my shoulders. "Hey, E." It was David's voice. "Well done."

I rose, despite the pressure, and bent over the table to gather up the cards as quickly as I could into a pile, forgetting the state of my skirt. I just wanted to have something active to do, so I didn't feel quite so preyed upon. I just wanted to look Busy.

"Why don't you deal for five, E.? We can pick back up last night's game. You seem--ready for it."

I glanced around, finally, and realized there were four men there--David, Jamie, Paul, and Jesse, who was one of Jamie's friends, a cousin once removed, or something like that. He'd been owner of the other set of eyes I'd caught on me, the night before, so I was only half surprised to see him.

After some desperate arithmetic and a little scattered gaping, I said, "Six."

"Six?"

"Yes--yes, Jacob's just--in there, getting drinks--"

Jamie laughed. "Right," he said, and pushed me over onto my stomach, on the cards. No finesse, Jamie.

Hadn't they noticed Jake leaving before me? "I mean it, he's just--"

"Come on, we know you just came in here for a little rematch, Erin." I tried to kick Jamie, and struggled as David helped him hold my shoulders down, but I didn't have much luck.

"I didn't..." I said, but it was weak. I did want something, but I'd been planning on a reprise of that afternoon, not of the night before. The nagging voice below my belly said I was fooling myself, though, if I thought that was all I was looking for.

"Then why are you in here? At the same table, wearing… no underwear, apparently, and all alone? Why did you even stay here, tonight?" David had tugged my skirt slowly up over my ass, as he spoke. His fingertips dipped into my pussy with terrible familiarity, as if he had every right in the world to see how wet I was.

"Stop!" I gasped. "I told you, I was going to--to play cards with Jake--" And why was he taking so long?

Paul and Jesse were chuckling, now, too. I thought I heard a zipper or two sliding down.

"Hey, man, me first, this time," Jamie was saying, pushing his brother over. "I didn't get her pussy at all, last time…"

I braced myself as Jamie leaned on me, wincing my eyes tightly shut. But just as Jamie was fumbling his dick into a condom, and taking aim, I heard a heavy clunk. Two drinks had been set heavily on the table.

"Jacob," David said, genuinely surprised. I was delighted to hear him sound even a little disturbed. Self-satisfied prick.

"What's going on here?" Jacob asked, very, very coldly. I almost shivered, myself.

"What do you think?" David replied with an infuriating ease, though I could tell he'd moved, to put Jamie and myself between Jake and he. Jacob had approached. I cheered silently.

"I think you're trying to take advantage of my baby cousin, that's what I think."

I could feel Jamie's hand on me shaking. He couldn't move, apparently.

"Oh?" David asked, sounding more convincingly bored, again. "I don't think I'd be the only one."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jake snapped, but David only chuckled.

"Oh, no, you don't sound defensive at all, cousin. Staring at her ass, disappearing after her in the middle of the afternoon... And I noticed you leaving her room, last night, too. Were you looking for her? Because she was still in here, then, cleaning up after us."

"Oh, God," I thought, and all the blood drained out of my face.

"She was a decent lay," David went on, pressing his luck, "which I guess you know. So we were just coming back for seconds. You have to understand, we thought she was hinting to us, when we saw her come back here, again, since we'd had her moaning over this table for an hour, yesterday. We had no idea you were sneaking her off for another fuck, or we'd have let you have her." I could hear him smirking.

"Seriously," Jamie chimed in lamely, to verify his brother's account.

Jacob was silent. No one was moving.

Finally, I felt what I thought was probably Jacob's hand come down on my shoulder, warm and heavy. "You all right, Kid?" he asked, quietly, and I was struck with the terrifying certainty that he was going to just leave me there to this pack of men.

"Don't leave me!" I choked.

"Yes, the more the merrier," David said, cheerfully. "You know, there doesn't have to be a fight, Jake. There's enough to go around, after all, we could have a good old-fashioned gang-bang." I literally felt myself dripping, at that point, right down my thighs. "I mean, I know you're possessive of her, but you are married, after all, and we're all relatively single men. You've got another nearby source of tail, so it's only right that you share this one with those of us who are less fortunate."  

Implicit in that was the threat of telling Becca, I think. In any case, it made Jacob finally hit David, hard, knocking him to the ground. Unfortunately, it also made him storm away.

"Jacob!" I called after him, "Don't!" but I didn't hear any response, and Jamie just went ahead and stuffed his flagging erection into me as best he could. It was back up and running in a trice, and I cried into the table, not sure if I was more scared or more frustrated.

"Oh, don't be upset. You can have Jacob's cock later, I'm sure," David said, sounding a little stiffer than usual. He'd apparently picked himself up off of the floor, but I couldn't see a thing through my hair and my tears. "Though he is the only one who's anything as close as a first cousin, which you must admit is a little more morally suspect." I heard him rustle behind me. "Anyway, for now, we'll keep you occupied."

And they did.

After only about a minute, David called Jamie off, and had him rearrange me, turning me to face him and his horrible grin, which I tried not to look at. David tore into another condom and sat down on the table, where my face had just been, and the two of them lifted and lowered me onto David's dick a few times, only to pull me off, again. I wasn't sure what was going on. I didn't ask, because I have my pride. And I'm not sure they'd have answered.

David finally said, "All right, that should be enough."

"Barely," Jesse said, sounding fascinated.

"Barely," David agreed, meanly. "Jamie, pull her legs up around you—high." Just to keep from falling to the floor, I wrapped my arms, only now freed, tightly around his neck, as he hooked his elbows under my knees, folding me up double.

"Okay, Jamie, you in a little?"

"Yep!" He was. It was a strange sensation, hanging there.

"All right. Let her down. Slowly."

Then I understood. I wailed, and Jesse's hand came from nowhere, to cover my mouth; David was forcing his cock up into my ass, lubed (barely) by my own pussy, as Jamie was stuffing himself into my cunt.

I felt like I would be split in two. I was about to hyperventilate, trying to hit Jamie without letting go of him. It hurt so badly, to be crammed so full of cock, but as David's arms came around me to share my weight, and he started rubbing my clit with one rough fingertip, my body remembered how hot it had been, before. I squeezed at them, and gasped, wishing I hadn't, and instead tried to push them out with my muscles (which, if you've had much anal, you'll know makes it easier, rather than harder, for something to get up you, but I wasn't thinking clearly at the time). They slid in, to their respective bases, and I wailed, but most of it didn't make it out of my mouth.

There was pain, searing and bright, and an unbearable fullness. And heat. Swollen, pulsing heat.

"Whoa," Jamie whispered.

As my head fell back uselessly onto David's shoulder, Jamie bent his head to my breasts, biting and sucking at them over the edge of my faux-corset. After a moment, he pulled the laces free with his teeth, loosening it, and between the two of them, they were able to shove it low, and free my nipples to the air to be pinched and pried and kissed, and on it went. It seemed like forever, before they started to move me again. There was just an eternity of David playing with my clit and Jamie with my tits, and me getting wetter and number and almost--almost--comfortable, with the two of them in me. Almost.

But then David thrust.

I groaned.

I started to struggle, when the world moved, and I was sure I was going to fall, but it became clear after a long moment that David was only lying back on the table, pulling me with him. Once we were there, and he didn't have to hold my weight up anymore, he unwrapped his arm from my ribcage, and brought his elbow up and around my neck, instead, gripping me down against him with the threat of choking. I sank into him, grateful in spite of myself for the new stability. His feet came up onto the table, then, and he held my knees splayed very wide by hooking them back and up over his own.

Then Jamie, who had slipped out in the commotion, drove back into me. The sound that came out of me can best be approximated as "kicked yappy dog," and I'm not proud of that, but there it is.

Paul and Jesse laughed. I growled.

Once we'd settled and held still for a few moments, David spoke from beneath my hair. "I leaned her back so that one of you can get her to blow you."

"That was thoughtful." I think that was Jesse who said that. 

Paul sent him forward with a "You go ahead," generously waving his rights as one of the previous night's participants. He seemed generally content to watch, after all. I heard some muttering behind us, as Jesse unzipped and approached my face, and then the gin and tonics that had been near my face disappeared. I tried to convince myself that Paul muttering didn't imply someone else was there--that there was yet another witness to my debauchment by cousins--but it didn't work well.

But once Jesse slid into my mouth, I was definitely too busy to notice.

It was pure overload. My brain had some kind of meltdown, as one by one they started to move their pricks in me. David had stopped rubbing my clit, but hands (I don't know whose) were pulling at my breasts, pinching my hips, pulling my hair. I could do so little to any of them, do so little with myself, but no one seemed to notice.

It was enough that there were three of them banging me at once, I guess, and that I was their hot baby cousin. It was enough for me, anyway. God, was it.

The pain was fading, or at least softening enough that it could be overwhelmed by the mad friction. The out-of-synch thrusts, rubbing against one another awkwardly through the thin walls of my flesh, were making me dizzy, making it feel like there was nothing in the world but cock, nothing to me but to be a whore for them. Jamie was cursing sporadically, Jesse was moaning, and there were black spots on what remained of my vision from the blotting out of my breath between Jesse's dick and David's elbow, but I think I was moaning, too, at least a little.

It felt like hours were passing this way, pinioned three ways on hot, increasingly violent spears, but it can't have been very long at all. David, ever the creative one, eventually asked, "Anyone think they can go down on her without getting in Jamie's way? Or at least want to mess with her a little? Hate to leave you out in the cold, out there."

In response, some very shy, cool, uncertain fingers came and pried the lips of my pussy wider, inexpertly tickling at me between them, sometimes skating near my clit, sometimes over the hood, sometimes nowhere near, but in context, it was more than enough to do what I needed it to. It was perfect.

"There, Erin," David said, sounding satisfied. "You're letting four men--four of your cousins--bang you, it's your very own little whore's orgy. Think about that. All these hands and cocks, cousin, and you're all over them. Barely even pretending to fight… I think you must have known, deep inside, that you wanted us—deep inside. I've met whores before, but this…"

I came, then. Very, very hard. And between the spasms, the gasping, the clenching and twitching, everyone noticed. Paul (I think it was) pulled his hands away from my clit, right away, probably surprised at himself.

"Man, you weren't kidding," Jesse muttered, laughing a little. "Wow... Hon, you like getting talked to like that?" He pulled out, to smack my face a bit with his dick and stick his balls in front of my mouth. I licked and sucked at them, rather than respond, but he took that for a yes, which I suppose was fair. "Maybe you really are a ho."

"Watch where you put that, okay, Jess?" David warned, as the cock got nearer to his face than he liked, and Jesse pulled back away, again, apologizing and pushing it back into the safety of my mouth again.

About then I realized that I had had an orgasm, that my flesh had all become hyper sensitive, and that there were still three cocks in me, sawing, in and out, harder and faster and rougher than before. I started to squeal and buck against them, even as I tried not to bite Jesse. My body went into some kind of panic mode. Luckily for Jesse, David tightened his grip on my neck, and wrapped his other arm tightly around my waist, squeezing me viciously hard. Jesse leaned in to hold my arms, and press them flat, as Jamie gripped my hips.