My Cousin Gave Me Orders at the Window in the Middle of the Night

I woke up much later than usual. The night before, after what had happened with my cousin Carla, I still had to go back home, collect the swimsuits she’d asked me for, and leave them in the garden of her house just as we’d agreed. And since my head wouldn’t stop replaying every detail, I had no choice but to masturbate once more while I smelled them for the last time.

Conclusion: I fell asleep in the early hours, my mind in a knot, and it took me ages to drift off.

While I was having breakfast and chatting with my parents, I could tell the day was going to drag on forever. The only interesting thing would start almost at midnight: that second meeting with her. To kill time, I decided to go down to the village for a walk and have a coffee.

The village isn’t much, but it does have a certain rustic charm. Not enough to attract tourists, though. There’s a small rural inn that serves as the parish hangout, and it’s run by an elderly couple I’ve known since they were just a middle-aged pair. They’re always glad when I stop by to say hello.

“Good morning, Remedios. Good morning, Tomás,” I said cheerfully.

“Well now, Marquitos, speak of the devil. How are your parents?”

“As always, Tomás: old and stubborn. By the way, when are you going to stop calling me Marquitos? I’m already twenty-two,” I said with a smile.

“You’ll be Marcos when you’re my age,” Remedios replied, laughing.

That conversation had been repeating itself word for word for years, and the three of us loved the routine.

“You’re mean to me,” I said, grinning from ear to ear. “Can you make me a café con leche, please?”

“Of course, child, sit down. I’ll bring it right over.”

Without a doubt, that was one of my favorite moments of summer: having a coffee in the shade of the pines, on the terrace, with the newspaper spread out in front of me. I was turning the pages absentmindedly and, for a while, I forgot everything that had happened the night before. But fate is capricious, and just when I was most absorbed, a voice startled me from behind.

“Well, Marquitos! So good to see you! I know you’ve been here a couple of days and still haven’t come by to say hello.”

The voice sounded familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. I turned around and found myself face to face with my entire extended family: my aunt in front, and a little farther back, a handful of cousins. And, of course, Carla, smiling slyly from the back. I couldn’t remember a single name, but thankfully I got a flash of my aunt’s.

“Hello, Rosana, what a surprise. I hadn’t seen you,” I said, trying not to get nervous. I didn’t quite manage it and nearly blushed.

“Well, we were taking a walk and Carla said to me, ‘Mom, I think that’s Marcos’,” she explained.

My cousin’s smile widened when she noticed my discomfort.

“You’ve got a good memory. It’s been ages since we last saw each other,” I said, trying not to sound like an idiot.

“Well, we won’t keep you any longer, we have to pick up an order at the butcher’s. Today’s barbecue day and we’re running late. Give your parents our regards,” she said kindly.

“Of course, I will. They’ll be happy to hear from you,” I replied, being all polite.

As she walked away, I couldn’t help looking at her ass. The truth was, for her age, she was still in remarkably good shape. And I was surprised to find myself wondering whether any of the garments I’d smelled and licked those days might have been hers.

I’m a pig.

As if that weren’t enough, when I stopped staring at my aunt’s ass, I ran into Carla’s face again. Her smile had tightened; it wasn’t as mocking anymore. Had she gotten annoyed because I’d looked at her mother’s ass? I hoped not.

***

The coffee moment had been ruined, so I gathered my things, said goodbye to Remedios—Tomás must have been messing about in the kitchen—and headed back home.

The day crawled by, with my mind fixed on what might happen that night. There were so many possibilities, all of them outrageous, that my throat felt dry and I had a knot in my stomach that wouldn’t loosen. Dinner time came, I tried to be nice to my parents, and then I sat in front of the TV until they went to bed. And that wasn’t even eleven yet. I see them older every year, I thought, a little surprised.

Since I had nothing better to do, I left the house ready for whatever came next. Nerves clenched my stomach with every step.

I reached my cousins’ garden and saw that the swimsuits were no longer lying where I’d left them. I figured Carla must have picked them up. I took up my observation spot, this time a little more hidden: I lost some visibility, but I was sure no one could see me.

I was so tense that when the bathroom light came on I nearly screamed. But it was only one of my cousins, who was going to piss. He finished and the light went out. I kept waiting. I’d been there for three quarters of an hour when it lit up again.

This time it was her. Since I wasn’t sure how she’d react, I stayed crouched down, watching what she did. Would she take off her panties like the night before? Carla came up to the window, searching for me with her eyes, so I leaned out and gave the usual “hi.”

“Fuck, Marcos, you scared me,” she whispered. “Nobody was in a hurry to go to bed tonight. There are still a couple of brothers watching TV, so don’t make any noise.”

“Ah, okay, well…” I honestly didn’t even know what to say or where to start.

“Hey, what a filthy thing you left me in the garden,” she said, pretending to be serious. “The swimsuits were full of ants. You came on them, didn’t you? They were damp.”

“Fuck, I’m so embarrassed, sorry, I didn’t even think of that,” I replied, mortified. “I was so worked up yesterday that I couldn’t help it. I didn’t think about the ants.”

“Don’t worry. I rinsed them off a bit and that was that,” she said, lowering her voice. “The truth is I got pretty dirty while I was cleaning them. When I got the ants off, I rubbed them against myself for a while.”

What a pair we make. Me with her panties, her with my semen. Was that her fetish? An awkward silence fell. It was clear we were both shy, not daring to make the first move. Until Carla went for it.

“I brought you something,” she said. “I hope you like it. Forbidden to judge me, just as I don’t judge you, okay? This stays between you and me.”

“Of course, Carla. How am I supposed to explain it to anyone if I barely understand it myself?” I answered.

“Well then,” she said slowly, “this morning, when we saw each other in the village, it seemed to me like you were staring at my mother’s ass.”

“Fuck, Carla, I… it’s just…” How embarrassing. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be stupid. My mother is smoking hot and I know it. I brought you the panties she was wearing at the time. Would you like to… touch them?”

I couldn’t believe it. Shame was killing me, but so was the excitement. Was she really not going to get angry at seeing me with her mother’s panties in my hands?

“Carla, I don’t know… I wouldn’t want to upset you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Here you go,” she said, sliding a hand through the bars with something in it. “I’ve been looking at them and smelling them too. Take them.”

With trembling hands, I took them carefully from her. They were warm, though I imagined that was from the heat of her palm. They were larger than Carla’s and cut higher, very elegant, black with a pale lace trim. They looked like an insanely expensive Italian brand. I opened them and, in the middle, discovered a pale stain: one main streak and two shorter ones at the sides. Without effort I imagined the exact shape of my aunt’s cunt.

“She just took them off to get into bed,” Carla explained in a soft voice. “When I picked them up they were a bit damp. Lick them and tell me what they taste like.”

I still couldn’t quite process that my own cousin was handing me her mother’s underwear and asking me to lick it. I was dying of shame, but I brought the fabric to my nose and inhaled deeply. I closed my eyes and summoned the image of that same morning, of that ass packed into these panties. I took them to my mouth and stuck out my tongue to run it over the crotch. I didn’t open my eyelids, because I knew she was watching me intently. I licked several times, pressing the fabric against my tongue. Then I decided to stop pretending.

“The taste and smell are a little stronger than yours,” I said, looking at her at last.

Her eyes were glassy and her hand had already slipped down to her crotch. I moved closer to the window and saw that she’d shoved it inside her jeans, moving it up and down.

“What else?” she asked, her voice broken.

“Since these are day-old panties, the marks are drier. They’ve left some kind of crust that tastes salty,” I answered, watching her touch herself. Her nipples were hard, standing out against her T-shirt.

“Keep going,” she begged in a breath.

“If you want, I’m going to jerk off now and fill them,” I said, pulling down my pants and taking out my cock, already leaking from the tip.

“Let me see you do it,” she murmured, her voice shaking.

I stepped back a little so she could see me properly and started masturbating with the panties pressed to my face. I was so turned on I knew I’d last no time at all. I lowered the garment and pointed toward her. I came in spurts, splashing her all over. I heard Carla’s moans speeding up on the other side of the bars.

“Wait,” she said. “Don’t wipe yourself with them. Give them to me.”

I handed them over and she took them through the bars. My cock was left rigid and messy. Carla brought the fabric to her mouth and licked every drop, gathering it with her tongue, swallowing it in two or three passes. Her other hand kept working between her legs, and I saw her thighs tremble when she came. She stayed still for a few seconds, catching her breath, and then pulled something from her back pocket.

“These are the panties my mother will wear tomorrow,” she said, holding them out to me. “I want you to clean your cock with them, but carefully, so there aren’t any stains. That way, if we see each other tomorrow, you’ll know your cum is stuck to her body.”

“That’s insane, Carla. You’re getting me so fucking hard,” I took the clean panties cautiously and, squeezing from the base to the tip, forced out a couple of drops that I let fall slowly into the center of the fabric. While I did it, I saw that she still had one hand between her legs and, with the other, was pinching and stretching her nipples. She was still lost in heat.

When I was done, I handed them back. She examined them closely to make sure nothing showed and looked at me with a feline smile.

“Good work,” she said.

“I do what I can,” I replied, pleased she liked it. “I think I’ll come by tomorrow to say hello.”

“Don’t you dare miss it,” she said with a smile. “And same time, okay?”

“Of course.”

She winked at me, turned around, and switched off the light. Just as I was about to leave, her voice reached me from the darkness.

“Wait, Marcos. Come closer,” she said. Obediently, I moved up to the window. “Open your mouth.”

I opened it without asking why, and she shoved two fingers inside. They were the ones from the hand she’d been touching herself with. They smelled intensely of female sex. I closed my lips around them and sucked slowly, savoring them. Carla made a couple of in-and-out motions and left without saying another word.

The walk back home felt short, thinking about her, the taste of her hand, and her mother’s panties. One thing was clear: the next day I had to find a way to run into my aunt. Even though I had no idea how she’d react once she knew what she was wearing.