NOTE: ALL CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY ARE OVER 18. NO SEXUAL ACTIVITY DESCRIBED HEREIN INVOLVES PERSONS UNDER THE AGE OF 18. There are scenes of cousin-on-cousin lesbian incest, so stop right here if that doesn't float your boat.
* * * * *
"Wanna get high?"
Those were the first words my cousin Melanie had spoken to me besides Nice To Meet You and Good Morning.
For two days, since my parents and I had arrived at the home of the extended family's Colorado branch, I had been absolutely mesmerized by my older cousin. Melanie's undeniable beauty was accessorized by an extreme yet sophisticated punk aesthetic, including a half-shaven head (long, wavy brown hair occupying the other half), exotic piercings in her ears and eyebrows, and liberally distributed tattoos. She moved with grace, swagger and attitude. She had a sharp wit and a sharper tongue and seemed like she wouldn't take shit from anyone.
And she was...college. So college. A senior at UCLA, cool and smart and hip. Light years beyond me, poor little 18-year-old high school grad Jasmine.
She was everything I wanted to be...but that's not all there was to it. I couldn't take my eyes off her. Those dazzling blue eyes, those pouty lips, those long, athletic legs...
...those boobs...
I yearned for her. I wanted to touch her smooth, tanned skin and trace her tattoos with my fingers. I wanted to feel those soft, sexy lips open for my eager tongue. I wanted to feel those nipples harden under my caress. I wanted her to strip me and spread me and do magical things with my nubile body...
Unfortunately, I didn't KNOW that I wanted those things. Sexually, I was tragically naive and inexperienced. I hadn't been with a girl before. I hadn't been with a boy either. Truthfully, I was terrified of boys. I'd been on a few dates, and they had been horrible and awkward and difficult, up until each boy decided he'd done his Dating Duty, and it was time for his payoff. That's when it got worse. Groping, sweaty hands; wet, hairy lips and bad breath. Other girls I knew seemed boy-obsessed but being with guys never felt good or even felt quite right. At best, boys made me feel.... nothing.
Did it worry me? Fuck yes. I felt like a freak. And to make matters worse...I WAS feeling something for the girls...those sexy, wet, athletic, gorgeous, naked bodies of my track teammates when we hit the showers after practice. I struggled not to stare openly, and I was filled with guilt and shame and terror that someone would FIGURE IT OUT and I would be busted and humiliated and ruined.
I didn't yet think of myself as lesbian or bisexual. I just thought...what? I was going through a phase? I wasn't trying hard enough? I was just being too emotional? I just wasn't mature yet? It felt like I could somehow fix this if I just put my mind to it. If I just calmed down. If I just fucking grew up and acted like a normal horny 18-year-old.
And sure enough, toward the end of my senior year, things seemed to fall into place for me. I rigidly clamped down on my natural desire to ogle gorgeous females. I took a few beauty tips and rolled out a more feminine look. I went on a date with a guy who didn't try to maul me, and we went out again, and he seemed to enjoy just hanging out with me, and I was so relieved that we went out a few more times and I called him my boyfriend and refused to feel any suspicion that he never tried to maul me or kiss me or even touch me.
Then the school year was over, and we all went our separate ways, and I was happy to be spending a nice boring summer travelling with my family. Until Sexy Cousin Melanie blew up my world.
* * * * *
"Well, how about it?" she asked, giving me a puzzled look while I just gawked. It was about 1:00 am, all the grownups fast asleep. She must have seen my light still on, so she knocked lightly and slipped into my room.
Gawked. Yeah, I admit it. How could I not? She was just standing there looking gorgeous...short black Ramones tank top, leaving her tight abs and pierced navel exposed to my view, and... oh my god, tiny pink panties showing off those long tanned legs and not quite covering her bush.
...a sexy, throaty giggle...
"Earth to Jasmine. Wanna get high?"
"Fuck YEAH," I said.
* * * * *
It was deliciously naughty. We snuck out through a back window, barely held in our giggles as we snuck around the side of the house, then gathered ourselves behind a hedge near the sidewalk.
"Umm...here?" I asked. I don't think it had occurred to me yet that she wasn't carrying any drugs or paraphernalia or anything else for that matter.
"No," she whispered. "It's a hot night, everyone has their windows open, someone will smell it."
"Oh. Okay. Where then?"
"There's a park down the street. Nobody there at this hour. That's where I usually go."
I felt a crushing wave of nerves and fear and anticipation rising in my stomach, a swarm of dainty little piranha butterflies trying to chew me up from the inside out. I swallowed hard and they settled down a bit.
"Lead the way," I said, hoping to sound fearless and grown up.
"Okay," she said, "but first..."
...and then she started stripping. At a slow, sensuous pace, she grabbed the bottom of her hot little Ramones tank and began sliding it up her body. She seemed to hesitate for an eternity at her mesmerizing breasts, and then treated me to a boob drop that will be etched in my mind forever.
They were perfect. Full, firm C's, lots of sass and bounce...long stiff nipples jutting proudly, twinkling under the light of the full moon...
Yeah, I said twinkling. First time I'd seen nipple piercings live and in person. A pair of pretty little rings with dazzling little stones.
I started to get dizzy and realized I was holding my breath. She stashed her top in a little opening in the hedge, then hooked her thumbs into the sides of her panties and slid them down a couple inches before stopping and staring into me eyes.
"You too, precious," she said with a smirk and a wink. Flummoxed, I think would describe me at that point.