My Cousin’s Feet Changed That Summer

My name is Mateo, and that summer I turned nineteen. My cousin Carolina was twenty-two, and although we had always been close, I had never confessed what I felt every time I saw her barefoot. It wasn’t her whole body that undid me, though she had a body that turned heads. It was something more specific, more intimate, something I had spent years trying to hide.

It was her feet.

She had feet that seemed designed to drive me crazy. Slightly rounded toes, nails always painted and perfect, the soft skin of someone who never mistreated them. Every time she slipped off her sandals and rested them on any surface, I lost the thread of whatever I was saying and felt my cock harden against my pants.

We spent a lot of time together. We were about the same age and shared the same sense of humor, so at family gatherings we always ended up in a corner laughing about everyone else. But I kept that desire locked away, in a closed compartment, not daring to look at it head-on. How many nights had I jerked off thinking about her instep, the curve of her arch, imagining those toes brushing against my cock?

***

That year my parents rented a house near the coast for the holidays. It was spacious, with a garden and a pool that was, really, what sealed the deal. When they asked Carolina if she wanted to come with us, she said yes immediately. I remember something tightening in my chest when she said yes.

From the very first day I started noticing them more than ever. At home she was always walking around barefoot, and I seized any excuse to look at her. If she sat reading with her feet on the coffee table, I’d find a reason to stay in the same room. If she tucked them under her on the sofa, I’d sit at just the right angle to see them.

More than once I offered her a massage. I framed it as a joke, as something casual between cousins who got along well.

—I’ll make them brand new —I’d say—. I’ve got professional hands.

—Don’t even dream about it —she’d laugh, curling her toes—. It makes me ticklish just thinking about it.

And that would be that. I’d swallow my urge and she’d go on with her own thing, oblivious, or maybe not so oblivious.

***

The opportunity came on a stifling hot afternoon. My parents decided to go to the beach, but Carolina preferred to stay home and make use of the pool. With my heart beating in a way that betrayed my intentions, I asked my mother if I could stay too. I said I was tired of the sun, that I preferred the calm water in the garden. She agreed without suspecting a thing.

When the car disappeared down the dirt road, the house was left in a thick silence, broken only by the fan’s hum and the distant noise of cicadas.

Carolina had stretched out on the living room sofa with the TV on, watching a series she’d already seen a thousand times. She was wearing short shorts that clung to her ass and an old T-shirt with nothing underneath —her nipples stood hard against the fabric every time she breathed— and her bare feet rested on the armrest. I sat on the other end, pretending to be interested in the screen, though all my attention was elsewhere. My cock was already throbbing in my pants.

Little by little, her breathing slowed. The heat and boredom got the better of her. Within twenty minutes she was sound asleep, head tilted to one side and mouth slightly open.

You shouldn’t. She’s your cousin. If she wakes up, you’ll ruin everything.

The voice in my head was reasonable. I ignored it completely.

***

I slid to the other end of the sofa with the caution of someone disarming a bomb. Her feet were at face level. They smelled faintly of vanilla, the scent of the shower gel we all used in the house, mixed with something warm and uniquely hers.

I took her right foot with both hands, slowly, holding it as if it were made of glass. She didn’t even stir. She was in the deepest kind of sleep, that sort of summer nap from which it’s hard to wake.

I brought it close to my face. I closed my eyes and pressed my lips to her instep, a soft, restrained kiss, alert to any sign of movement. Nothing. Only the calm rise and fall of her breathing.

Emboldened, I lowered my mouth to her toes. I stuck out my tongue and ran it over the smallest one, then took it fully into my mouth and sucked hungrily, toe by toe, feeling the softness of the skin and the clean taste. I nibbled gently at the pad of the big toe and she let out a sleepy sigh that made my cock hard as a stone. I traced the arch of her foot with my tongue, from toes to heel, in a slow, sloppy caress I’d been imagining for years. I left a shining trail of saliva on the sole and started again at the toes, sucking them two at a time, sucking on them as if they were something else.

By then my cock was pressing against my pants in a way that was almost painful, the sticky tip wetting my underwear. Without letting go of her foot, I yanked down my shorts and briefs with one hand, freeing myself. My cock sprang out, hard, swollen, the tip red.

I brought both her feet together, her soft, warm soles, and positioned my cock between them. I pressed so her toes closed against the top of my shaft and began moving, fucking her feet with short thrusts. The tip appeared and disappeared between her toes, and every time it slid over the arch of one of her soles I had to bite back a groan so as not to wake her. I spat on my cock to make it slide better and the wet sound filled the living room: the slapping of my cock between her feet, my cut-off breathing, the series playing faintly in the background.

The orgasm was building in my balls. I sped up, pressing her feet tighter against my cock, feeling the climax rising inside me. I was about to finish.

And then I felt her feet tense.

***

I looked up and found her awake, watching me with half-lidded eyes and an expression I couldn’t make out. Panic hit me like a bucket of ice water. I let go of her feet, jerked my shorts back up, trapping my hard cock against the fabric, and scooted to the other end of the sofa, my face burning.

—Carolina, I… sorry, I didn’t… —I stammered.

She sat up slowly, never taking her eyes off me. There was no anger on her face. There was something else.

—That’s why I never let you give me a massage —she said, with a calm that undid me—. I’ve seen you, you know? More than once. Looking at my feet like they were the only thing in the room. And I’ve heard you at night, in the room next door, jerking off. Were you thinking about this?

I didn’t know what to answer. I stayed silent, my cock throbbing inside my shorts, waiting for the reprimand, the threat to tell someone, the end of everything.

Instead, she stretched out one leg and rested her foot on my thigh, very close to the bulge.

—I knew you’d do something like this someday —she murmured—. What I didn’t know was how to tell you it didn’t bother me. That for months I’ve been getting wet every time I imagine your mouth there.

***

I stayed motionless, not understanding whether it was real. Carolina slid her foot from my thigh to the bulge and pressed slowly against my cock, squeezing it with the sole.

—Keep going —she said—. Where you were. Do it properly this time, now I can tell you if I like it.

Something changed in me in that instant. Shame turned into total surrender. I took her foot with both hands and brought it back to my mouth, this time without fear, slowly, looking her in the eyes while I sucked each toe one by one, taking them deep into my mouth.

—Like that —she whispered, leaning back and opening her legs a little—. Slower. I want to feel every kiss, every lick.

I obeyed. I ran my tongue over her whole foot, kissed her heel, gently bit the base of her toes, licked the arch from top to bottom until it shone with saliva. She answered with tiny gasps and with the increasingly obvious movement of her other hand, which had slipped inside her shorts. I heard the wet sound of her fingers working her cunt while I sucked on her feet.

—You’re so good at that, cousin —she panted—. You’ve got me soaking wet. Do you want to see?

I nodded without being able to speak. She pulled down her shorts and panties to her knees and showed me her cunt, open and shiny, her fingers moving slowly over her clit. A moan escaped me.

—Take your shorts off again —she ordered, her voice lower now, firmer—. I want to see that cock that was fucking my feet.

I did it without hesitation. My cock sprang up hard, the purple tip dripping pre-cum. She licked her lips at the sight.

—Jesus, I didn’t imagine it was that big —she murmured—. Good thing you started with my feet.

She brought both soles together and pressed them against my cock, just like before, but now fully aware, looking at me, spitting a long thread of saliva that landed right on my glans and slid between her toes.

—Move —she said—. Slowly. And don’t finish until I tell you to.

The instruction went straight through me. I started fucking her feet again, now slowly, savoring every thrust. The saliva made my cock slide between her soles with an obscene sound. She controlled everything: the pressure, the angle, the timing. With her free hand she kept rubbing her cunt and I watched the inside of her thighs grow wet.

—Harder —she panted—. Fuck my feet like you were doing when I was asleep, you were going to cum all over them, weren’t you? You were going to fill my soles with your load.

—Yes —I managed to say—. I was going to cum between your toes.

—Dirty boy —she smiled—. Keep going.

Every time she noticed I was getting too close to the end, she would part her soles just enough to force me to wait, leaving my cock exposed, throbbing, dripping.

—Not yet —she’d repeat, with a smile that mixed tenderness and power—. Hold it. I want you to ask permission.

She kept me like that for a long while, playing with me, squeezing my cock between her feet right to the edge and letting me go just before it broke, while she came in silence, biting her lip, fingers buried in her cunt and eyes locked on mine.

—Now —she said at last, pressing her feet against my cock again—. Cum. Over my fingers. I want to see you.

***

When she finally let me finish, it was with one short word and a look that admitted no argument. I thrust two, three more times between her soles and let out everything that had built up. The jets of semen shot out hard and stained her toes, her instep, her arch, sliding between her soles and dripping onto the sofa. It was so intense I had to clench my teeth not to shout. She watched every second, satisfied, like someone confirming that a plan had gone exactly as imagined, and then slowly took one of her fingers to her mouth and licked my cum off it without breaking eye contact.

—You taste good, cousin —she murmured.

Then she sat up, moved in beside me, and ran a hand through my hair, gentle, almost affectionate, while the other stained foot stayed resting on my thigh.

—You can’t imagine how long I’d been waiting for you to work up the nerve —she said softly—. So many times you offered me a massage and I said no… it was because I knew that if I let you touch me, we wouldn’t stop there. And I wasn’t ready to fuck my cousin. Now I am.

I looked at her without fully understanding what had just happened between us, but not wanting to undo it for anything in the world.

—And now? —I asked.

She shrugged, with that half-smile I knew so well.

—Now we both know. That can’t be erased. And next time you’re going to lick something other than my feet.

***

We stayed like that for a while, in silence, with the TV blinking ignored in the background. Carolina stretched her legs out again and rested her feet on my lap without saying anything, making it clear who they belonged to at that moment. She had me lick my own cum from the instep until it was clean, and I did it without protest, swallowing the salty taste straight from her skin while she watched me, biting her lip.

We were starting to look for each other again, with less urgency and more intent —her hand was already inside my shorts again, squeezing my cock as it began to harden once more— when the unmistakable sound of the car on the road froze us both. My parents were back earlier than expected.

We sprang apart. Carolina grabbed her sandals and went upstairs at impressive speed; I straightened my clothes, covered the stain on the sofa with a cushion, and pretended to be utterly absorbed in the series. When my parents came in, they found each of us in a different room, as if nothing had happened.

Nothing else happened that afternoon. It didn’t need to.

That night, before bed, Carolina passed by my bedroom door, stopped for a second, and rested her bare foot on the frame, looking at me with one eyebrow raised. She lowered her gaze for an instant to the bulge under my sheet and smiled.

—Tomorrow my aunt and uncle are going back to the beach —she said, very softly—. And the sun still bothers me. Make sure your tongue is well rested.

And she went down the hallway, leaving me awake for hours with my cock hard against the sheet, counting down the time until the next day.