My Cousin Caught Me Spying and Took Control

When the bathroom light suddenly came on, I froze, like a rabbit dazzled by a car’s headlights in the middle of the road. Caught red-handed and my head spinning at a thousand miles an hour, searching for a believable excuse to get me out of that mess. I didn’t find one. There wasn’t one.

***

It was two summers ago. I had just turned twenty-two and hadn’t managed to wriggle out of spending a couple of weeks at my parents’ country house. It’s not that I was uncomfortable with them; we have a calm, good relationship. The problem was the place.

The house stands more than three kilometers from the nearest village, lost among the hills, with nothing to do but walk through the countryside or stare at the ceiling. Relatively close by there were three properties. One was a farm belonging to a family I’d known all my life but with whom I barely exchanged a word. The second, a huge mansion belonging to some foreigners who almost never showed up and whose pool I’d sneaked into since I was a kid. The third belonged to some distant relatives with seven children close to my age.

They were decent people, but they moved in moneyed circles and we had nothing in common. Funny thing: with my four brothers and them being seven, we could have formed a championship-level gang. In reality, we never got past saying hello. My brothers were already grown and, with work as the excuse, they didn’t come up. So there I was, all alone.

My routine was boringly simple. I’d get up without an alarm, have breakfast, read for a while, walk through the hills, sneak in to cool off in someone else’s pool, and as the sun went down, head out for another walk without thinking about anything. Mentally, it was very healthy. In every other way, a desert.

One night, after dinner with my parents, I went out on my usual walk. My steps took me, without meaning to, toward my distant relatives’ house. Out there there are no walls or fences separating the properties, at most a chain across the path so cars can’t enter. The flicker of a television was visible in one room, but the rest was dark.

Suddenly a light switched on right on the side I was passing. I was about ten meters away, close enough to peek and far enough to feel safe. I moved a little closer and crouched behind a pine tree. It was the bathroom window, and inside was one of my cousins, one of the older ones whose name I didn’t even remember.

She looked at herself in the mirror for a second and then bent down, disappearing from view. In the silence of the night I heard her piss hitting the toilet bowl with perfect clarity. I couldn’t see anything, but I imagined everything, and that got me hard. A moment later she straightened up, took off her T-shirt and the top part of her bikini with a tired gesture, and hung both wet pieces on the window bars before putting on a nightgown and switching off the light.

The scene lasted less than half a minute, but my head did the rest of the work. Without thinking too much, I moved closer to the house, careful not to step on any branches, reached the bars, and took down the bikini bottoms. They still held the heat of her body. I brought them to my nose and inhaled deeply: they smelled mostly of chlorine, but underneath there was a warm, salty trace that completely fogged me up. I tucked them into my pocket and went back home to enjoy them in peace.

My parents were already asleep. I locked myself in the bathroom, sat on the toilet, and masturbated slowly, smelling the fabric and rebuilding my cousin’s body from memory. I didn’t last a minute. I felt like a kid, and even so I knew I was going to do it again.

***

From that night on, my walks changed course. Every evening, as soon as it got dark, I’d circle my uncles’ house from behind to see if I got lucky. I wasn’t very lucky, but one of those nights I managed to spy on my distant aunt Marta doing the same as her daughter. She must have been in her forties, her shape a little worn by the years, but she was still a striking woman. She didn’t leave anything hanging, a shame, although there was almost always some piece on the bars for me to enjoy later at home.

As the days passed, I let my guard down. Each night I positioned myself a little closer, until I got to within barely two meters of the window. That time the light came on and Carla appeared, the youngest sister, the only one I’d had any real contact with when we were kids. From my position it was like looking at a lit television: I could see almost everything.

She pulled down her pants and sat down. I heard her piss splashing and started touching myself over my clothes. When she was done, she stood up, took some paper, and wiped herself with a calm gesture. I threw all my imagination at it and let myself go. Then she stopped and very slowly turned her head toward the window.

Her gaze swept right over the area where I was hiding. I froze, but the darkness was thick and there was no way she could see me. She spent a few seconds peering into the blackness, then shrugged, turned off the light, and left. She hadn’t put on her pajamas or taken off her panties, so I settled for thinking about taking down another piece from the bars.

I waited a couple of minutes. I came out of hiding, approached the window, and stretched out my hand toward the hanging swimsuit bottoms.

***

And then the light came on suddenly.

I stood petrified, my heart racing and an impossible excuse dying in my throat. On the other side of the glass was Carla, looking directly into my eyes while I held a stranger’s bikini an inch from my face. There was no dignified way out. None.

She came up to the bars without hurry, slipped her hand through the iron rods, took the swimsuit from my fingers, and hung it back in place with a calm that scared me more than any shout would have.

—You’re not very smart, are you? —she said. There was no anger in her voice, only a serene observation—. Four bottoms have gone missing. One was mine, black, and I loved it. The one you were smelling is Sofia’s. Did you really think we wouldn’t notice?

—Sorry, it’s just that… —I didn’t know what to say. I was red as a tomato and already imagining my parents’ faces when they found out their son was stealing underwear, and from his cousins on top of that. I wasn’t going to recover from this.

—Shut up and don’t say anything stupid —she cut me off—. I’m not going to tell anyone. But you’re going to collect the swimsuits and leave them thrown near the garden fountain, as if the wind or some animal had taken them. Nobody ever goes there. Tomorrow I’ll go and act like I found them by chance.

—Yes, of course. Thank you, Carla. I promise I won’t do it again.

—You’d better not. My sisters are scared, thinking there’s a pervert running loose around the property. I suspected it was you, so tonight I set you a trap. —She smiled crookedly—. It was almost too easy.

—Sorry again. I’m just an idiot.

—We all have our thing. Don’t worry. I’ve got good memories of you, you know? When we were little, you were the only one who paid attention to me. —Her tone softened for a moment—. Now go get the panties, little creep.

I turned around, ready to comply to the letter. I’d barely taken two steps when she called me again.

—Adrián, wait. Come here for a second.

I went back with my head down, convinced she was going to lay down a threat in case I got the idea of doing it again.

—Hey —she said, resting her forearms on the bars—. What exactly do you do with bikinis?

Dead before answering that question. But she waited, patient, and the silence grew long and heavy. I wasn’t going to open my mouth. What was I supposed to say? That I masturbated imagining her sisters?

—I can imagine —she went on—. But I want to hear it, or better yet, I want to see it. Wait.

And without looking away from my eyes, she unfastened her pants. She let them drop and kicked them aside. Then she hooked her thumbs into her panties, slowly pulled them down, and picked them up from the floor. She looked at them for a second and held them out to me through the bars.

—Do it with mine. Now.

—Carla, this is embarrassing, I can’t… —I stammered like a kid.

—I’ve been very good to you —her voice dropped a note and turned firm, with no hint of a question—. I’m only asking this. Do it. Now.

It wasn’t a suggestion. It was an order, and my body obeyed before my head did. Trembling with fear and something much more urgent, I took the panties she offered me. These were still warm; she’d been wearing them barely seconds earlier. They were a dark blue, and in the crotch there was a glistening thread of fresh moisture that took my breath away.

I looked up. She was watching me intently, with a new glimmer in her eyes, half curiosity, half something else I didn’t dare name. I closed my eyes, brought the fabric to my nose, and inhaled deeply. Her whole smell flooded into me as the tip of my nose brushed the dampness. I opened my eyes without taking them off her, lowered the panties to my mouth, and stuck out my tongue to taste them. She, almost by reflex, parted her lips slightly, as if she were licking at the same time as I was.

—And now? —she whispered, her voice broken—. What else would you do with them?

Without looking away, I unbuttoned myself and pulled my cock out. She didn’t look at it for a single second; she kept her eyes fixed on mine, as if she wanted to make it clear who was setting the pace. I started masturbating slowly. When I saw her hand go down to her own crotch and start moving, I sped up.

I could hear the friction of my hand and, underneath it, hers. I couldn’t see anything from her waist down, but I imagined it with unbearable clarity. Her breathing began to break. Mine did too. We were on opposite sides of a fence, and yet I had never felt anyone so close.

—Don’t stop —she ordered in a thin voice—. Look at me.

I held on as long as I could, which wasn’t long. When I was about to climax, I took her panties with my free hand and opened them right where her body had been moments before, so everything would land there. It was a long spurt that left them soaked. At the same time I heard her sigh, a low, contained moan, and I knew she’d come too.

When I looked up, her cheeks were flushed and her chest was rising and falling quickly. She held my gaze a moment longer, satisfied, like someone confirming that an experiment had worked exactly as expected.

—Give them back —she said softly, but with no room for argument.

Mortified, I passed the garment back through the bars. A drop fell to the ground; they were sticky. She took them without fuss, opened them with both hands, and examined with curiosity what I had left inside. Then, slowly, she brought them to her mouth, closed her eyes, and licked hard. I watched her tongue gather up my cum and swallow it without a single sign of disgust. She did it again, opened her eyes, bent down, and put her panties back on as if nothing had happened.

—I’d never tasted that on my own clothes before —she commented calmly, adjusting the waistband—. Not bad. Remember the bikinis. Do it now.

And with that she turned toward the door. With her finger already on the switch, she looked back one last time.

—Tomorrow at the same time —she said.

She switched off the light and I heard her bare feet moving away down the hallway. I stood there in the dark for a long while, legs weak, certain that from that night on, she was the one setting the rules. After that I went to the garden to leave the swimsuits beside the fountain, just as she had ordered me to do.