My Cousin's Persistence

I was a first year college student and he was in his third year when I first met John. We met through a mutual friend and ended up hanging out quite a bit after that. We hung out with a group of friends mostly, but sometimes it was just the two of us. We liked to chill at his apartment and drink, talk, and play guitar. I didn't feel like there was any sexual tension or attraction between us, but one day he surprised me with a kiss. I still felt nothing, but from time to time after that, we'd make out if we couldn't find anything better to do.

I was home with my parents during spring break when I started telling them about the friends I had made. John's name came up (both first and last) and my dad told me that we had relatives with that same name. He wondered if we could be related. I didn't think much of it, and thought it would be impossible. I was also very naive apparently, because only a few short weeks later (and a few phone calls by my Dad to his relatives) we found out that John and I were, indeed, second cousins. Upon hearing this news, I immediately flashed back in my mind to all the makeout sessions we had. It sort of grossed me out knowing now that he was family.

I didn't wait long before telling John the news. And I tried to tell him in a way that was light, easy, and funny.

"Hey John! Turns out we're cousins! That's pretty cool! Who would have thought? I'm glad we found out before we became more than just "kissing cousins"!" I laughed and watched as his face turned from surprise to delight (with a hint of deviance).

"We don't have to stop at just "kissing cousins"." He said. "I think we should be "fucking cousins!"

I hoped he was just joking, but I knew deep down that he was not. Not only was I sort of not attracted to him, but now he was my own blood! The thought grossed me out and I let him know it did. He didn't seem to care. He approached me, grabbed me, and pulled me in close to give me a kiss. I turned my head so that he couldn't kiss me on the mouth and he ended up kissing my neck instead.

"John! I'm not joking. It grosses me out! Let me go!" I said nicely, but sternly.

He let me go. He was upset. And he tried to convince me that we weren't really so closely related that it should make any difference, and besides, no one would have to know!

I decided I needed a break from John. I also decided I'd never be in the same room with John alone again. I just didn't trust him.

Fast forward a few months and I'm hanging out with the mutual friend that John and I share (the one who introduced us). His name is Ryan. And he is very attractive! I have had a crush on him since the moment we met, but he was the kind of guy that seemed way out of my league, so I never made a move. Besides, he probably thought I was involved with John anyway since we were always hanging out together. But tonight... Tonight was different. We were alone (which was rare) and in the basement of the house he's renting with some college buddies. The basement has a ping pong table, some couches, a TV, and some other stuff, making it a cool place to chill. Ryan and I were drinking, watching movies, talking, and I remember thinking that I wanted to kiss him. I didn't, but I wanted to. And just the thought of it started making me feel turned on.

The hours passed, and so did the beer. I can't remember how many I had to drink already, but I was feeling pretty tipsy. Definitely a little drunk. Okay, maybe I was more than a little drunk. And Ryan still hadn't made a move on me. My mind was going crazy wondering if he was ever going to (why else invite me to hang out with him alone?) and I tried to build up the courage to say something, or make the first move myself. Fantasies were running through my head and I was starting to get wet between my legs.

Suddenly, we hear the basement door open and footsteps come down the stairs. It's John. Shit. I just remember thinking to myself, "shit, shit, shit". I didn't want him there.

"Hey, guys! I thought I might find you here!" says John.

"Hey, John!" says Ryan.

I said nothing at all. I sort of just glared.

"Hey, I need to talk to my girl here alone for a minute. Do you mind? Can you give us some privacy?"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing! Did John just call me "his girl"? And why did he want me alone? I had an idea, and it scared me. Revenge for rejecting him? I told Ryan that I didn't want him to leave. I told John that whatever he wanted to say to me, he could tell Ryan too. And this is the exact moment when I realized that something terribly wrong was about to happen. Ryan said he needed to use the restroom anyway, so he was going to leave and give us some privacy. When I finally begged him to stay, he promised he'd be right back. Ryan stood up, gave me a look as if to say "how gullible", and he patted John on the shoulder on his way out. I had been set up.

"Take 'er easy!" yelled Ryan from the top of the stairs.

I heard the door shut behind Ryan. John and I were alone. Shit. I tried to stand, but I was so wobbly and weak from all the alcohol! It wouldn't have mattered anyway because John just pushed me back down onto the couch. Drunk or not, John was much larger and stronger that I was and could very easily overpower me physically.

"Hey, calm down." Said John as he sat down next to me on the couch. "I just want to talk." His hand slides up my shirt and grabs a breast. "I want to talk about fucking you... cousin."

There was no point in trying to reason with him. I was drunk and weak... he was horny, angry, and determined. So instead of arguing with him, I screamed. I screamed and yelled, calling John's name, calling for help, and trying to get someone's (anyone's!) attention. No one came. I kicked and tried to push John off of me, but the more I struggled the more tired and weak I became. Finally, John has his full weight on top of me and I remember feeling smothered, trapped between him and the couch cushions. He kept telling me to be still and he waited there on top of me until I was.

"Calm down, cousin!" he demanded. "You're making this more difficult than it has to be!"

I stopped fighting. It was no use. I remember just giving up. I closed my eyes, I tried to keep my world from spinning, and I focused on being somewhere else as John sat back up and began to undress me.

He pulled my shirt up and over my head. He unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them down. I had no shoes on, so it was easy for him to pull them right off of me completely. My panties went down with my jeans. He unhooked my bra removed that too. And there I was, naked, broken, and just ready for him to get it over with.

John left his clothes on, but unzipped his pants and lowered them just enough to expose himself to me. He reached between my legs and jammed two fingers right up into me. I was wet from fantasizing about Ryan, so he entered me easily. This didn't go unnoticed by John.

"You're so wet!" He exclaimed with delight. "See? You really do want me! You're ready for me and you love it!" He got loud and excited. "You love this! Don't forget to call me cousin when you cum, baby!"

I tried not to react, but it was difficult not to and ended up whimpering, just the slightest bit. John stopped fingering me and climbed on top of me again. He pulled my knees up for better access then entered me. He was huge and he stretched me. I hated, HATED, that he felt really good. I hated him in that very moment, and I hated myself for feeling even the slightest amount of pleasure from this situation. It disgusted me. It made me feel gross and guilty and dirty. I kept my eyes closed and tried not to allow myself to enjoy any part of what was going on. I tried hard, but apparently it wasn't hard enough because really did feel so damn good!

"Call me your cousin!" he kept saying, ruining any bit of pleasure for me that I may have been feeling. "Say it out loud!"

"Cousin." I cried quietly.

"Louder! Call me cousin!"

"Cousin!"

"Call me cousin and tell me to fuck you!" he demanded.

"Fuck me, cousin."

"Yeah. That's my girl. That's my sexy cousin." John was starting to thrust in and out of me faster and harder. "You're my fucking cousin and I'm gonna fuck you so good!" He was grunting and breathing harder. I hated the way he sounded. I hated him. Or maybe it was me that I hated. I hated that I could feel so good in this situation.

I kept thinking to myself that he'd be done any minute. Any minute now. He's getting close. But every time I thought he was close to finishing, he slowed down and talked, always making sure to include the word "cousin". I'm not sure if it was me that he liked, or the incest, but either way, he made sure to make this time with me last. I thought he was almost finished again when I heard Ryan coming back down the stairs.

"How's it going?" Ryan practically yelled. He was very drunk and very loud. "How's it going, John? Is it my turn yet? You've been fucking for like twenty minutes or something, man! It's my turn!"

I felt sick to my stomach all over again. This gorgeous, kind, too-good-for-me man was going to crush my spirit. I thought he was my friend! And I thought maybe we could be more if he liked me! But this was not the way you treat someone you like. I tried to convince myself that he was just drunk and would never act this way when sober. It was the alcohol, not Ryan. And if he was going to fuck me, I might as well try to enjoy it because this will never, ever happen again. I made that promise to myself. And then the disgust washed over me again. It was a feeling of disappointment, excitement, and also a tinge of hidden complacency.

John pulled out of me and stood up. "Yeah, man. Have at 'er! She's good n' ready for you!"

"Sweet!" said Ryan while putting down a beer.

Ryan pulled down his pants and mounted me. He was even thicker than John and it hurt a little as he pushed his way inside me. John stood aside and watched.

"You're so tight!" Ryan said with surprise. "She's so tight, John!"

I let out a cry as Ryan began to pump deeper and harder. Still, my eyes were closed and I imagined that I was making love to someone who cared for me, thought I was beautiful, wanted me, needed me, and best of all, loved me. Soon, I began to relax and I caught myself moaning and matching Ryan's rhythm with my hips. I opened my eyes and saw Ryan's gorgeous face, ruined with drunken expressions, and I gave into the orgasm that was climbing up inside of me. Like a wave crashing on the sand, the orgasm came and slapped me sober. Ryan made an animal-like noise and convulsed as he came inside me. John, masturbating, came up close to me and came on my face while Ryan was still inside me. Both guys now commenting on how beautiful I was as I lay there, full of and covered with their cum.

"She's such a beautiful little slut. So tight, man." said Ryan while pulling out of me and spilling some of his cum onto the couch. I could feel it running out of me, down my ass and onto the fabric cushion.

"The fucking hottest cousin anyone could ask for, man!" replied John.

"Dude! She's your cousin?"

"Yep." John said proudly. "...and now she's my fucking cousin!"

I rolled over and nearly vomited onto the floor. I didn't vomit, but I really felt like I wanted to. I probably needed to. Too drunk, too confused, too overwhelmed by everything happening around me... The guys stood up and redressed themselves, high fived, and started a conversation, totally forgetting that I was there, naked and used on the couch.

I don't remember anything beyond that point. The next thing I remember is waking up the next morning, really early, and getting dressed before sneaking out of the house. They call this the "walk of shame". Disheveled, tired and ugly, I stumbled my way back to my dorm (which was only about a mile away). I showered after making it back to my room, and slept off my hangover for the rest of the day.

"No more alcohol," I said to myself, "and no more John and no more Ryan and no more assholes."

But college kids are stupid and I apparently learn very slowly because I found myself later fantasizing about John and Ryan fucking me again. And although we didn't hang out anymore, I did end up calling them on rare occasions for "booty calls" when I was feeling especially horny or lonely. They were happy to oblige. I hate Ryan. And I hate my fucking cousin. But damn I love their cocks and how they make me feel so good and dirty! Assholes. Fucking assholes. Things weren't supposed to happen this way. But I'm glad they did.

...And in case you're wondering... The answer is "no". I did NOT go back home to tell my parents that I was getting along so well with my cousin. My Dad does ask about John from time to time though, and thinks it's great that I have family there at school with me who will look after me and keep me safe. My Dad doesn't trust all of those other "horny college guys".

Little does he know...