My Cousin Waited for Me in the Garden at Midnight

I stayed in bed well into the morning. I had nothing to do and felt like calmly reliving everything that had happened the day before. When I got back home, I had decided to throw away my mother’s panties instead of putting them back in the laundry basket. They smelled far too much like sex; there was no way she wouldn’t notice as soon as she put the washing on.

My mother’s voice from the dining room snapped me out of my trance.

“Marcos, come here for a second. Look who’s come by,” she said loudly.

I wasn’t expecting anyone. Driven by curiosity, I pulled an old T-shirt over the pants I slept in and went out barefoot to see who it was. I almost took a step back when I saw my cousin Carla sitting on the sofa, chatting with my mother.

“Look, Marcos, your cousin Carla,” my mother said, turning toward me. “Do you remember her?”

“Of course, Mom,” I answered, trying not to let my nerves show. “Besides, we saw each other the other day in the village. Don’t you remember I sent you her regards?”

“Oh, yes, that’s right,” she laughed. “What a memory I have!”

Meanwhile, Carla had stood up and was coming toward me. She was wearing a short black strappy dress that fit her like it had been painted on. The truth is, she looked incredible.

“Hi, Marcos,” she said, giving me two kisses. Her smell was fresh and pleasant, and even so I was hit by a flash of her sweaty face from the day before, after masturbating in front of me. “You’re quite the sleepyhead, aren’t you?” she added, teasing me.

“Hey, I’m on vacation. And this tyrant here,” I said, pointing at my mother, “has me working all day.”

“Listen to you, so cheeky,” the accused shot back. “It was only moving four things. By the way, I’ve found a few more and you can help me later.”

“Mom, I haven’t even had breakfast,” I protested dramatically. “You’re awful.”

The three of us laughed at the obvious exaggeration. The mention of work made Carla’s eyes brighten a little. I was already starting to get to know her and immediately sensed where things were headed.

“Okay, Mom,” I said. “I’ll have a couple of muffins and give you a hand. Since Carla’s here, we might as well enslave her too.”

“Absolutely not,” my mother protested. “As if! Look how cute she is in that dress. No way!”

“Of course,” Carla replied quickly. “Honestly, I like being here, but after a while the days get long when you’re not doing anything. A bit of work will do me good.”

“Another slave for the cage,” I said, laughing. “Let’s eat quickly and get to it.”

I went to the kitchen, stuffed the two muffins almost whole into my mouth, took a swig of milk, and came back out ready to see what happened.

***

My mother gave the instructions and Carla and I started moving boxes to the garage. It was close to twelve and the heat was intense, so before long all three of us were sweating. Carla’s back gleamed, and a wet lock of hair stuck to her face. My mother, though she made fewer trips, was also sweating buckets. Between the sweat, the jokes, and the laughter, we emptied the room. The looks my cousin and I exchanged were pure complicity.

“Mom, I’ll set up the ladder and go up,” I offered. “Carla and you can pass me the boxes.”

“No chance,” she replied. “I’ve got the loft organized so I can find things, and you’d leave everything any old way. Hold the ladder steady and we’ll have it done in no time.”

“You really are stubborn,” I said, shaking my head. “I’m not ready to inherit just yet!”

“Don’t worry about that, son,” she said, laughing. “There’s not much to inherit. Relax.”

With that cheerful tone, we leaned the ladder against the wall, opened the loft hatch, and wedged it firmly against the floor.

“Carla, if you don’t mind, hold it for me, so this lunatic can go up without killing herself,” I said, well aware that this gave my cousin a perfect position to indulge her instincts.

My mother adjusted her ponytail, took off her sneakers, and started climbing. She was wearing a dress very similar to the day before, but in a different color. Once she was up there, her legs were visible well above the knee. Carla stood beside the ladder, holding it with both hands, and her face was more or less level with the hem of the dress. I handed the boxes up to my mother, who placed them inside. My cousin, trying not to show it, kept glancing upward, though I doubt she saw much.

When there were only four boxes left, it got harder for my mother to fit them in. There was barely any space and she couldn’t reach properly, so she had to stand on tiptoe on the step and half-climb into the loft. Her dress rode up so far that even I could see her panties from where I was. Carla had her eyes fixed on my mother’s ass, and her gaze gleamed like a cat’s.

My mother’s balance became more and more unstable, until what had to happen happened: the ladder held firm, but her bare foot slipped and for a second she seemed about to fall. Carla, who was right underneath and paying close attention, raised her arms and grabbed her by her bare thighs. She’s a strong girl, but her legs were so sweaty that her hands slid upward until they settled on that curve where the thighs end and the ass begins. She held on like that for a few seconds, until I leapt up as well and we helped her down.

“Well, good thing that was the last one,” my mother said, a little pale. “Thanks, Carla. If it hadn’t been for you, I’d have smashed into the floor.”

“What a fright,” my cousin replied. “I thought you were going straight down.”

“And hey! You’ve got very strong arms,” my mother added, looking at her with a curious expression, as if she didn’t quite know what to say. “Thank goodness. Come on, let’s go to the kitchen for something cold.”

As soon as she turned her back, Carla turned to me and pulled a face that said, “How hot was that!” She was delighted to have touched my mother’s legs and almost her ass; that much was obvious.

***

Once in the kitchen, Carla excused herself.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to the bathroom for a moment.”

“Of course, dear,” my mother replied. “It’s the first door after the dining room.”

I immediately suspected she wasn’t going just to wash her hands. My mother opened a couple of beers and we sat chatting while we waited. Three minutes later Carla came back, cheeks flushed. When my mother stood up to get a third can and turned her back, my cousin confirmed my suspicions: she brought her hand up to my nose. The smell of sex flooded me. The shameless girl had gotten so hot she’d had to go touch herself.

The three of us kept talking about anything and everything until she stood up.

“Well, I should get back home before they think I’ve gotten lost.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” my mother replied. “Thank you so much for your help. And for saving my life,” she added, laughing.

“That’s what we’re for. Carla, the savior,” she replied. “See you.”

After she left, my mother cleared the table.

“What a lovely girl,” she remarked. “It’s a shame you don’t have more contact. She’s a sweetheart.”

“She is,” I said. “And really fun. But between living far away and only coming in the summer, there isn’t much more to it.”

I got up thinking about how perverse Carla was, though no more and no less than me. With that good-girl face, it was even more shocking. And more exciting. There were still eleven hours left until our meeting that night. What a torment.

***

The hours dragged by slowly. Evening fell, the sky darkened. My mother went to bed, gave me two kisses, and I stayed on the sofa watching the clock. At last, a little before twelve, I switched off the TV and slipped out without making a sound. The path to my uncles’ house had already become familiar from how many times I’d repeated it. I was nervous and very aroused: every night with Carla had been more intense than the last. When I arrived, all the lights were off and silence reigned. I went up to her window and waited.

After a while I heard barefoot steps and recognized her slender silhouette.

“Marcos?” she whispered into the dark.

“I’m here,” I said, stepping forward.

“Wait a second, I’m coming out now,” she murmured, and disappeared down the hallway.

A few seconds later I heard footsteps in the garden behind me. I jumped, thinking it must be one of my uncles, and hid behind a tree. The footsteps came closer almost without a sound, until I recognized Carla. I stepped out of hiding, she put a finger to her lips for me to stay quiet, took me by the hand, and led me behind the garage. We were about twenty meters from the house, hidden from any view.

“Sorry,” she said softly, “but my father was suspicious. He says he’s heard noises near the house at night and I don’t want us to get caught.”

“Fuck, you scared the shit out of me,” I finally blurted, smiling. “I thought it was your father coming to break my face.”

“My father’s a saint,” she laughed. “If it had been him, he’d probably have come to apologize for scaring you at this hour.”

Carla was dressed as always: a long T-shirt she used as a nightgown, no bra—her nipples showed—and from the silhouette, a pair of panties and nothing else. Her long, brown legs peeked out below, and her hair was tied back in a ponytail. She was a sight. Too bad she was my cousin, I thought.

“Hey, one thing,” she said, looking at me. “You weren’t upset about your mother, were you?”

“Not at all,” I replied quickly. “Remember that I came in my cousin’s panties two days ago. You and I are that filthy; what are we going to do?”

“I know, but I wanted to make sure,” she explained. “It’s just that when I held her, my hands slipped along her thighs. They were soaking wet with sweat. One stayed firm on her ass, but the other slid in between her legs, and I had three fingers almost pressed against her sex. That’s why I had to go to the bathroom. My hand smelled so much like her. I stayed like that for a couple of seconds, and with one finger I stroked her a little. She probably didn’t notice it as a caress, but it left me a mess.”

The image of my mother accidentally brushed by my cousin gave me a serious erection. Thinking it over, I remembered the strange look my mother had given Carla when she got down from the ladder, as if she didn’t know what to say.

“I think that even if you think she didn’t, she did notice,” I told her. “And I’d dare swear she didn’t mind.”

Carla smiled and blushed a little. Her nipples stood out even more beneath the fabric.

“Look, I’m probably going to seem like a sick fuck,” I added slowly, “but imagining your hand stroking her without her expecting it has really turned me on. With your permission, I’m going to jerk off.”

I pulled down my pants and kicked them aside. I grabbed my cock and, without taking my eyes off hers, began stroking myself slowly. Carla looked down at my erection, gave a naughty smile, and said:

“Go on, then.”

She pulled the T-shirt off over her head and was left in just her panties.

“It turns me on so much to watch a guy jerk off,” she murmured.

As she watched me, she squeezed her breasts with both hands and pinched her nipples between her fingers. After about half a minute, her right hand slid down her belly, passed her navel, and slipped under her panties. I saw her slide two fingers in a couple of times, then begin tracing small circles. Our breathing grew more ragged as we sped up the rhythm. She spread her legs wider to touch herself better; now it was her whole palm moving up and down, and a soft sloshing sound could be heard.

The show was so electrifying that I felt my legs tense. Without thinking, we moved closer until we were only a handspan apart. Her breasts bounced almost brushing me, her hot breath hit my neck, and she moaned in short gasps. My arm moved at full speed and I knew the climax was imminent. With a groan, the first spurt landed on her belly, almost at her navel. She, panting hard, pulled her hand out of her panties, stretched them slightly forward, grabbed me without asking permission, and aimed me toward her sex. The second burst soaked everything. She kept jerking me over and over while I could barely stay on my feet.

When nothing more came out, she let go, rearranged her panties, and spread it all over with her hand through the fabric. Then she noticed the drop that had fallen onto her belly, gathered the trail with a finger, brought it to her mouth, and licked it with her eyes closed.

“I don’t know why I like it so much,” she said, almost embarrassed. “I love the taste, both from guys and girls. The smell drives me crazy. Sometimes more than sex itself. It’s clear I’m a pervert.”

“You are a bit of a dirty girl, yeah,” I laughed. “But I’m not much better. I’m the same: I’d rather eat out a girl and have her come in my mouth than anything else.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked, teasing.

“At first it made me uneasy,” I replied thoughtfully, “but since then I haven’t stopped imagining it.”

“It must be incredible,” she nodded, picturing it. “Hey, I have to go, but I’m taking this as a souvenir,” she said, pointing to her lower belly.

“When I get home, I’ll think about it,” I laughed.

“It’s a shame you’re leaving tomorrow.”

“What a pain in the ass,” I replied. “This has been the best summer of my life.”

We both laughed. She put her T-shirt back on, gave me two kisses, and started walking toward her house. After two meters, she turned around, planted herself in front of me, slipped her hand into her panties, and pulled it out with wet fingers. Without saying a word, she put a couple in my mouth and took others to hers. The taste was intense, deep.

“I was going to keep it for myself,” she said, smiling, “but sharing is so nice! Now I really am going.”

“Take care of yourself, Carla,” I managed to say.

She started to walk away and, without stopping, turned back one last time.

“Hey, Marcos! I’m starting university next year,” she announced. “Do you know where?”

“No idea.”

“In your city,” she said, laughing. “We’ll see each other around.”

She turned again and ran off. Her T-shirt fluttered for a moment, giving me a fleeting glimpse of her panties before she disappeared around the corner. Smiling, I headed home too, thinking about all the possibilities that would open up starting in September.