Keira And I

I'm sitting at my desk, staring at my laptop, thinking of how to start this story. I look out my window, but the night sky brings me no inspiration, my wall just adds to the blankness in my mind. My folks are downstairs, chatting with guests whilst I used the excuse that 'I'm studying' to get away. I thought writing my thoughts would awaken something dormant within me, set a spark that starts the motor of the mind. I see that it is so.

I have decided to record my thoughts here as I recall them, skipping nothing and telling all. Yet, I must warn you, my journey is not a short one. There are no 1 page stories in life, as if there were, what a bore it would be. If you desire to not know the details of my story, the very facts that stir the heart, then that decision is yours. If you believe that there is something you must tell, then by all means feel free to do so, and I welcome whatever comments you may have. Please, don't forget to cast your ballot. Let me not dally any longer.

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It was 3 months ago when I started having serious thoughts about her. Of course I had payed attention to females before, but to her, not so. You see, it is taboo in our society to lust after one's cousin. I am the youngest of my cousins, there being 5 of use in all, and all the rest being female. My name is Joey and at the ripe age of 18 my hormones still fire strong. The cousin in question here is Keira, who is 22.

Her sister, Ava, was still away in Germany for a university exchange program. Keira had been down south for 4 months working in a hospital for her medical degree, and due to it being a six hour drive away, had taken up part-time residency down there. It was such that the first time my family saw Keira since she had left was on Christmas Day, when all gathered at my place for the traditional Christmas lunch we have.

I had to help with the barbeque on the day, and my attention at the time was just on that, making sure that the 'shrimps on the barbie' weren't turning to char. I was so focused that I didn't notice that someone had walked up behind me, I was more thinking about Tea Leoni than the prawns, considering that I'd just finished watching Ghost Town, but guys will be guys. I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around to see who it was, my cousin of course being the furthest thing from my mind.

Low and behold, it was my dad with a plate of onions that I needed to cook. I turned back to fry the onions, pushing the prawns to the side whilst I did so.

"Not going to even say hi to me after 4 months," I heard.

"Hi," I said matter of factly. I clearly knew who it was, but sometimes my split personality, a strong believer in the glories of sarcasm, gets the better of me. I guess I deserved the punch I got from Keira then.

"Ow, that hurt," I said.

"What. Your dainty little cousin hurt you."

"Not you. I only realised how hot the barbeque plate is. And by the way, your being the same height as me (5'10") doesn't make you a dainty little thing." This time it was a slap on the arm.

"Feisty today aren't we," I retorted.

Of course I couldn't tease her anymore, so turning to her I pulled her in for a hug. It wasn't a long one that ended with some awkward silence between the two of us because she felt my erection pressing into her. No, it was just your usual hug between family but I did feel her breasts press into my chest -- they're not large, but enough to fit with her slender figure, I'm guessing 34C.

"So, how's life been treating you?" I asked.

"Not bad, but I'm buggered from the drive up this morning. Med is going good, and I just had this year's clinical exams."

"How'd you go?"

"Well enough to pass," she said, "and to get a high distinction."

"Awesome. I told you I always had faith in you kiddo."

As I stood there cooking and listening to Keira, I started to realise that she was pretty hot -- at least I think so. She's not your stunning figure with 36D breasts, an ass to die for and blonde hair with blue eyes. She's slim -- not bony but fit -- has probably 34C breasts as I guessed, dark brown hair, olive skin and hazelnut eyes. She was wearing tight low riding jeans, with a light yellow top that was see through to an extent when she stood in the sunlight, whilst her bra helped accentuate her breasts.

We chatted more about life in general. When you haven't seen each other for 4 months there is a stack to talk about. The day passed on as it does every Christmas. After lunch everyone opens gifts that they brought for each other and eventually the music starts. Where the lunch and chatting may last for a couple of hours, the dancing and singing can go one throughout the rest of the day and late into the night.

Most often it starts with someone asking me to play a piano piece. I've done up to grade 8 for ABRSM exams but after that I didn't have time to start on my diploma. Don't ask why, but my family has a thing for Irish folk tunes, and after I finished Ocean Etude by Chopin, I was requested to play Danny Boy followed by Molly Mallone. After I finish my act, my aunts and uncles start to get more into singing and dancing. At this time I usually take it as my cue to tune out.

Needless to say I took a back seat row whilst the others got up. Keira, though, decided that she was bored of talking and got up to dance. Now, I wouldn't call what my family was doing dance, rather it was just tapping your feet in time and moving whatever limbs you could. The music of course must match the mood, and it gradually became more eastern like. Yet, I was quite content just to sit there and watch, particularly Keira.

Seeing a girl's hips sway and ass rhythmically move is hypnotic to any guy, and I had to remember to be somewhat discrete as I was after all with family.

The night did wind down and at about 1am the last of the guests left. After cleaning and stacking the dishes in the dishwasher, I went up to my room, ready to collapse on my bed.

"Get a good sleep tonight son and don't forget that you're driving your mom and I to the airport tomorrow morning," dad said as he popped his head around the door.

"Yeah, no problems. G'night."

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I love my parents and all, no doubt about that, but why did they have to book the flight for 5am? Sure the drive may only be half an hour, but waking up at 4 in the morning, when you only went to bed at 2, and then having to drive is a killer.

"You got any plans for the week while we're away," my dad asked as I drove to the airport.

"Since it's Grandma's birthday tomorrow, Uncle Ted (Keira's father and my mom's elder brother) asked me to spend a few days up at their place," I told him.

"Sounds like a good idea. Don't forget to give Ma the gift I left on the table, it's all wrapped so no need to worry about that," mom said.

"No prob's. It's terminal 1 right?"

"Yeah," my dad said.

Following the ramp around, I pulled off where it said for terminal 1 and stopped at the drop off zone.

"We'll be back in 8 days so don't get up to too much mischief," dad said.

"And don't forget to ring us and tell us how things are going, all right," mom said.

"Me ring you? You guys are the ones going on holiday," I told them.

Hugging them both and seeing them go in to check in, I got back in the car and drove home, planning on sleeping when I got back.

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Seeing as I was going to be up at my aunt's and uncle's, I decided I wouldn't bother with changing for the birthday now but wait till I got up there.

Since we all had to go out for grandma's birthday, I felt that rocking up to a good restaurant in shorts and thongs -- flip flops (not the g-string kind) -- wouldn't be the best of ideas. Taking the only two good shirts I had with me, I went to Keira's room and asked which she thought would best suit the occasion.

"Either would look okay. You look hot no matter what you wear," she said. Even though I may be close to my cousins, saying that much -- as innocent as it may seem -- had never been done.

"You look nice in that dress that too," I said, feeling as though I must reciprocate her compliment. Even so, it was a nice dress and it hugged her figure quite well, showing off slim waistline. The feathery pattern of jade and turquoise complemented her fair complexion and rich hair.

"Hold on," she said whilst putting on a doctor's tone of voice, "there was no trace of irony or sarcasm. I think you actually meant that and I therefore thank you."

"Well, now that her majesty is pleased, I do beg her leave." Bowing as I said so, I backed out of the room and decided to wear the black shirt.

The restaurant we went to was a Japanese restaurant that is well known for its teppanyaki. It was essentially the close family, and since my folks were not here, it was myself, Gran, Keira, Uncle Ted, Aunt Julie, Louise (my other female cousin), Jemima (my other other female cousin), their parents Uncle Phil and Aunt Amanda, and my other uncle and aunt, James and Heidi.

We were at the benches which had been arranged around the central hot plate where our chef started with his entertainment. You need to remember, you don't go to teppanyaki for the food, you go for the fun.

I won't give a whole description of the menu and my opinions as I could go on and on. First up was sashimi, japanese salad and miso. Next was the fried rice and vegetables. Whilst these were cooking, the chef pulled out his greatest trick, eggs. Seeing this, everyone's attention turned to him, ready for the start of the show.

Taking eleven raw eggs, he tapped them on the hot plate to slightly crack them and then stacked them up one upon another. With everyone now ready, he took the bowls from the trolley and tossed us each one. I might add now that I had played baseball and cricket for some time, so my catching skills were sharpened. I was in the middle, meaning I was in the chef's direct line of sight.

Asking us whether we were ready for the next round, he took his specially designed spatula and flipped the first egg off the top of the stack towards me. Thinking quickly, I brought my bowl forward just in front of me and caught the egg in it, making sure the egg didn't bounce or slide out.

"Very good," he told me, a grin breaking through on his face and mine too, happy that I didn't spill the egg all over myself. He progressed his way around the table, each getting their turn, even Gran joined in too. There were two mishaps with eggs that went astray and landed on the floor, one because Aunt Heidi thought it would be smarter to dodge the egg rather than try and catch it. But it's all part of the fun of the game, and one of the waitresses spread some fine wood chippings over it and then broomed it off.

Once all were done, the chef asked us who would like a second bowl. Uncle Phil was keen to take it up and the chef threw him another one. As we had returned the eggs to him, the chef had lined them all up in a row now. Taking a second spatula similar to the first, he asked if Uncle Phil was ready.

"For what," Uncle Phil asked. The chef was enjoying himself clearly as much as we were and simultaneously used his two tools to flip two eggs at Uncle Phil. The poor guy didn't have much time to react and whilst he may a good effort in catching one egg, he was not so successful with the second which ended up splattered across his jeans.

"It's ok. I have more eggs here," the chef joked. By now everyone was completely settled in and the fun and joy was building. I saw Keira, who was seated three seats to the left, was also enjoying herself. She was, I may say, looking beautiful. I couldn't sit and ponder though as I would miss the show.

The rice was now ready and taking the vegetables the chef stirred them through, adding sauces to it as well. Pulling the rice towards the centre of the hot plate, he took a spare bowl and packed it in with rice, taking care to leave the bowl partly empty on top. Showing us the bowl, he spun it up in the air and caught it.

Then, he took the bowl, looked at Ben, nodded at him, and then spun it through the air towards him. Ben was able to catch the bowl, but it was the wrong way down, and the rice fell out. Trying again, the chef took Ben's bowl back, refilled it and threw it back. This time Ben did catch it, and right way up too. We had to applaud Ben just for his good humour. The chef again did this for all of us, at times even putting an egg or two in the bowl with the rice before throwing it.

The chef had started preparing the eggs into an omelette that was approximately three feet long by two inches. Taking the omelette, he chopped into two and set aside half of it for later. Now it was time for my favourite round, the Machine Gun. Whilst I may like this one, I prefer to watch, not participate. The chef asked if anybody was willing to play this round, and Keira not exactly knowing what it entailed said yes.

"Could you please move your chair back," he said, "just a bit more... that's good."

The chef took the half omelette he had and turned it so that the short end was facing him, forming a rectangle in the direction of Keira.

"Could you open your mouth please," he told Keira, "you need to try and catch the egg in your mouth."

"All of that," Keira said somewhat bewildered. Though, she still did what he instructed.

"Not this big piece," the chef said and with that he took he two spatulas, using one to chop the egg into small pieces and using the other to toss these pieces at Keira. The speed at which he managed to do it gave the impression of a machine gun.

Keira must be giving credit for trying, but of the twenty some pieces that were fired at her, only two landed in her mouth. The rest went everywhere, on the floor, on her dress and even some down her dress.

It was hilarious to watch and even Keira was laughing the whole time whilst trying to catch the food. She deserved the applause she got, if not for her attempt. The chef too was laughing and after finishing cooking the egg, he served it up along with the rice.

The rest of the night was spent with him doing tricks himself and with cooking the rest of our meal that involved prawns, beef teriyaki, chicken and fish. Whilst the serves were fairly small, by the end you're stuffed. Cleaning off the hot plate, the chef then spelt the words thank you in both English and Japanese using salt.

We kept eating, drinking and talking, even after the chef had ended his shift with us. For desert, the birthday cake was brought out, a Schwärzwalder Kirschtorte (blackforest cherry torte). Needless to say it was divine, made true to the original recipe by a Bavarian patisserie nearby.

With the cake cut and eaten, we made to leave, but not before photos were to be taken. Gran, being the chief guest tonight sat in the middle whilst all the others gathered round for a photo. We gave our cameras to one of the wait staff to use but as she had trouble with one of the cameras, specifically mine, I went out to help her. Taking the camera I told her I would do it and took the photo.

"One more for good measure," I said.

Instead of taking a photo of all though, I zoomed in on Keira who was standing next to Gran on my right. Thus, I did not need to move the camera at all, only change the zoom and therefore did not give away my real purpose. Focusing on Keira, not just her face but whole body, I took the shot. I had the flash on, so the picture came out great, made better by the dress she had on that stopped above the knees, showing her toned legs off and the low riding neckline that showed a hint of cleavage.

I thanked the chef as we left the restaurant, kissed Gran goodnight and started towards Uncle Ted's car to head off back home with them.

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We were all sitting down watching a rerun of classic tennis matches, best of all was an exhibition match with Mansour Bahrami and Henri Leconte. By we I mean my uncle, aunt, cousin and myself. In front of the TV there is a two seater lounge and a leather recliner next to it. Seeing as my aunt and uncle were taking up the lounge and Keira was on the recliner, I turned to go get a chair from the dining room.

"Sit here," Keira said, indicating the floor in front of the chair with her feet. She put the chair back into the seated position as well. Not being one to argue, I complied, and rested back on the foot rest of the chair that had now been tucked into the front of the chair. Keira had her legs crossed on the seat, so that I'd have room to sit.

The match of course was awesome, even though it was an old one. Whilst Leconte can be funny at times, Bahrami is the ultimate tennis entertainer. And in the fashion of all good TV channels, there were ads every 5 minutes or so. It was during one of these ads -- about half way through the 1½ hour game -- that I felt my neck tensing up and decided to rest it back on the chair.

The chair -- conveniently or not -- is somewhat low, so that when I did rest my head back, it was resting on the seating part, not the foot rest part. Keira seeing me do so, uncrossed her legs to give me some room.

"What's wrong she said," looking down at me and smiling.

"My neck's just a bit sore," I said, rubbing the back of my neck.

"Let me massage it for you," she said, scooting forward in the chair so she could reach my neck without straining her arms.

I closed my eyes as she worked her hands on the back of my neck. I didn't want to be caught staring at her and thought that it was the best way to avoid so, and the comfort from the massage did play a part. As it was a break between sets, the ads went for more than the normal 1 minute stint, and thus the therapy went for longer.

Nevertheless, when the ads finished, and the final set started, I said thanks and resumed watching. Keira, however, hadn't moved back and was still scooted forward, her legs hanging on the outside of my shoulders.

Bahrami was now playing without the ball. It was a great serve he did, which Leconte was only able to get back by fully extending. The 'rally' went on for about half a minute, until Leconte hit the 'ball' a bit too hard, and Bahrami pointed at it in slow-motion as it came down just past the base line. The umpire gave Bahrami a point just for his antics.

As another ad break started, I returned my head to its resting position. Keira was looking forward, not paying me much attention. She is hot I must admit, far from a 'butterface'. I strained my head back a bit further, checking her out I guess. It was then that I realised that she still had her dress on and I could see partly up her skirt because her legs were spread by my shoulders.

"Your neck hurting again," Keira said, catching my eyes as she saw them dart away from her legs to meet hers.

"Actually, I was just enjoying the sights," I said, being as honest as I could without being obvious.

"And what may those be," she questioned me, giving me a smirk that told she knew where my attention was.

"The ceiling as a matter of fact. It looks different. Has it been painted recently," I asked, with an inquisitive look on my face.

"Oh, you noticed did you," said my aunt Julie from the lounge, taking me by surprise as I had forgotten that she and Uncle Ted were still with us. Luckily I had watched my tongue and actions.

"No. Not painted. New lights. They're those halogen bulbs and so they brighten up the room more and show the ceilings cream paint, as opposed to those fluorescent bulbs which give it a yellowish tint," she explained.

"It's nice," I said looking up at Keira again who had a smug look.

"If only they were wider," I mumbled to myself, referring of course to Keira's legs.

"If only what was what," Keira now asked me, this time clearly acknowledging that she had heard all by the stare of her eyes.