My Cousin Camila Came Back and Stayed in My Bed

Camila had been my cousin since before either of us could remember. We grew up on the same block, at the same family tables. Her mother and mine were sisters and talked three times a day, so any excuse worked for a get-together: a birthday, a graduation, a move. Until we were fifteen, I can hardly remember a weekend without her.

Then they left. My uncle found a job in another province, far away, in one of those places you can only get to by plane, and one day in March we said goodbye at the airport without knowing it would be four years before the next hug.

Things didn’t work out for them. My uncle started drinking, then started coming home late, then stopped coming home at all. When my aunt finally decided to separate, there wasn’t much to split up. She came back with a suitcase and with Camila, and my mother opened the door for them in tears.

My parents threw a welcome-home gathering that same Saturday. When Camila got out of the taxi, I didn’t recognize her. She had become someone else. I remembered a skinny girl always with her hair in her face; the one who hugged me that afternoon was nineteen years old, with a marked waist, tits pushing against the neckline of her T-shirt, and a round ass that pulled her jeans tight. And a new way of looking men in the eye.

—You’ve gotten huge —she told me, and laughed.

—So have you.

That night, at the party, we talked for hours. We caught up on four years in four hours. I told her about my girlfriends, about college, about the motorcycle I’d bought with my first paychecks. She told me about her old school, the friends she’d left behind, the father she no longer wanted to see. But we didn’t talk about sex. Not that night. That topic was still territory that didn’t belong to us.

***

The following Monday my parents gave me the news.

—Your aunt has to come back to sign the divorce papers —my mother said—, and we’re going to take advantage of it to go away the three of us for a few days down south. Fifteen days total.

—Okay.

—And Camila is staying with you. She doesn’t want to go.

—At the house?

—Where else?

There were five days left until my college break started. Fifteen days, just the two of us, with summer ahead of us. The idea seemed great and dangerous at the same time, though back then I didn’t really know why.

***

We dropped them off at the airport at eight on a Friday. We rode home on the motorcycle slowly, no rush, because the night was warm and because Camila had her head against my back and I didn’t want that moment to end. I could feel her tits pressed against my back on every curve, and the arms wrapped around my waist kept sliding lower and lower. We stopped for pizza on the way and got home around eleven.

—This is huge —she said, looking at the living room as if she’d never seen it before.

—It’s the same house as always.

—Without them, it feels like another one.

She was right. Without my parents, the house seemed to have doubled in size. Every room felt heavier. Every silence showed.

—I prepared my mother’s room for you —I told her.

She flopped onto the sofa and took off her sneakers using her feet.

—Can I ask you for something?

—Whatever you want.

—I don’t like sleeping alone. I never could. Will you let me sleep with you?

She said it without looking at me, playing with a shoelace. I answered yes before thinking, and right away I realized I had a problem.

—I have to warn you about something.

—Tell me.

—I sleep naked. Always. I can’t stand nightclothes.

She laughed and looked at me for the first time since sitting down.

—Me too. So we’re the same.

—Same thing… if my dick gets hard, I promise I’ll point it the other way.

She burst out laughing and threw a pillow at my head.

—You’re an idiot.

***

We went up to the room after midnight. Before that we stayed a while in the kitchen drinking a beer, and little by little the conversation changed. I don’t know who steered it there first, but we ended up talking about the one thing we had never talked about.

She told me she’d had sex for the first time with a twenty-six-year-old guy. She was nineteen. A story everybody knows: he kept pushing, she agreed out of curiosity, he fucked her dry, came inside after three minutes, and left her sore, her cunt burning and with the feeling that something hadn’t been right. After that she had a normal boyfriend, who treated her well, but who came as soon as she touched him and had never made her come. It had been almost a year since she’d fucked anyone, she told me, and the last few nights she’d been going to sleep with her fingers inside herself.

She blurted it out as if it were nothing, biting her lip, and my mouth went dry. I told her mine too, because it seemed only fair. A long-term girlfriend who was a beast in bed, a few short ones, a blowjob in the bathroom of a club that had gotten away from me. While I was talking, I couldn’t help looking at her. She had learned to sit in a way that showed the curve of her hip, and she had the habit of biting her lower lip when she listened. The white T-shirt outlined her bra and the hard nipples underneath the fabric, and any excuse was enough for her to sweep her hair back.

I stopped seeing her as my cousin.

—Let’s go to sleep —she said, standing up—. It’s super late.

***

In the room, I turned off the main light and left only the desk lamp on. It wasn’t modesty, it was a desperate attempt to hold on to the idea that the situation was still normal. I turned my back while I took off my clothes, but before getting into bed I turned around.

Camila was standing on the other side, completely naked.

I hadn’t prepared myself to see her like that. Skin just a little lighter in the places where the bikini had protected her from the sun, firm tits standing up, dark nipples erect as if they were cold, her shaved cunt with a clean pink fold, hair falling over her shoulders, and a smile that was nothing innocent. I felt my cock fill without asking permission, throbbing, hard enough to hurt.

—Well —she said, in a lower voice than necessary, looking straight at my dick—. I remembered a smaller cousin.

—And I remembered a cousin with braces.

We got under the sheet at the same time. I could feel her breathing fifteen centimeters from my face, but neither of us said anything for a long while. I closed my eyes and tried to think of anything else: the final exam, Sunday’s game, the motorcycle payment. It didn’t work. My dick was making a tent in the sheet.

It was unbearable hot. After ten minutes we both uncovered ourselves without saying anything.

—Is it still there? —she asked, without turning her head.

—Is what?

—Your friend.

I looked down. It was rock hard, pressed against my thigh, the tip shining with fluid.

—Still there.

—Think about something else.

—I’m thinking about lots of things.

—I can tell.

She laughed softly. So did I.

—Camila.

—What?

—This is wrong.

—Yeah.

—We’re cousins.

—Yeah.

—Almost siblings.

—Almost.

***

A few long minutes passed, and I thought she was asleep. Slowly, barely moving, I lowered my hand and grabbed my dick. I wasn’t going to be able to sleep if I didn’t jerk off. I started moving my hand slowly, squeezing the base and sliding up to the glans, spreading the pre-cum with my thumb. I didn’t hear her breathing hard, so I took my time. Until her voice cut through me like a spotlight.

—I can’t believe what you’re doing.

I froze, my cock throbbing in my hand.

—Forgive me.

—You’ve got a woman in your bed and you’re yanking it like an asshole.

—It’s just that…

She didn’t let me finish. I felt her turn over and, before I could react, her hand replaced mine. She took my whole cock, measuring it with her fingers, and let out a low “shit” when she realized how hard it was. She started moving it slowly, with a confidence I hadn’t heard in her voice, twisting her wrist over the glans every time she went up. She spat into my hand and grabbed me again, and now the wet sound of the wank filled the room.

—Look how hard you’ve got it, cousin —she whispered—. All for me.

Then she lowered her head and took me into her mouth. First I felt her tongue circling my tip, then her lips closing tight over the glans, and finally her throat swallowing me down to the base. She sucked with hunger, as if she’d been waiting months for a cock. She swallowed me to the hilt and came back up with saliva hanging from her chin, looking up at me from below with black eyes. I had to bite the back of my hand not to scream. She ran her tongue over my balls, took each one into her mouth, and went back to my cock, sucking with hollowed cheeks.

When she felt I was almost done, that my thighs were tightening and my breath was catching, she squeezed the base with her other hand and looked up at me, mouth full.

—Not yet. Don’t come yet, idiot. I want to drink that load when I say so.

I pulled on her arm until I had her beside me. I kissed her neck, her shoulders, her tits. I bit one nipple, then the other, sucked them both until they turned red and hard as stones. Little muffled moans escaped her, and she arched her back to push more breast into my mouth. I went down slowly, tracing her belly with my tongue, bit her at the hip, and when I got between her legs I found her cunt soaked. I opened it with two fingers: the pink lips shone wet, the swollen clit peeking out between the fold.

—You’re so wet, cousin —I murmured before giving her the first long lick, from bottom to top.

—Look what you make me do —she panted, running her fingers through my hair and pressing my face against her cunt.

I ate her out deeply. I sucked her clit slowly, took it into my mouth like a nipple, moved my tongue in circles until she started trembling. I slipped two fingers inside and searched for the spot, that little bulge up in there, and rubbed it while I kept sucking. Camila writhed, moaning without covering herself, squeezing my head with her thighs.

—Oh, cousin… oh, like that, like that, don’t stop, lick my cunt, lick it…

She came against my mouth, clamping down with her legs until I ran out of air, a warm stream soaking my face and fingers.

***

I turned her over onto her stomach. I ran my tongue down her back all the way to the end, bit both halves of her ass, and when I reached the lowest edge I spread her open with both hands. I gave her a broad lick from her asshole up to her cunt and back up again. I hadn’t expected what I did next: I ate her out there too, sinking my pointed tongue into the little hole, circling it, spitting and going back in. I felt how she shook, how she buried her face in the pillow, how she said my name for the first time that night, how she pushed her ass against my mouth asking for more. I slipped two fingers into her cunt while I kept working her on the other side with my tongue until she couldn’t take it anymore and came a second time, screaming things at me I didn’t understand.

—Come here —she begged, turning over again, panting—. Fuck me now. Put it in.

I took a condom from the drawer. I put it on with clumsy hands while she licked her fingers, watching me. I positioned her with her legs over my shoulders and rested the tip of my cock at the entrance to her cunt. I rubbed it there, up and down, soaking myself, and she herself put her hand there and guided me inside.

—All of it —she murmured—. Put all of it in me.

I went in slowly, millimeter by millimeter, looking at her face, watching how she opened her mouth and closed her eyes as I drove it into her. She was tight, warm, wet enough to swallow me whole. When I reached the bottom, a long moan slipped out of her. I didn’t want to miss anything. She dug her nails into my forearms until I bled. I started moving, pulling almost all the way out and then sinking back in, and it was the first time I cared so much about the rhythm.

—Harder, cousin, fuck me harder…

We tried several positions. On our sides, with one of her legs over my hip and my cock entering from the side, feeling it scrape her a different way. Her on top, riding me, tits bouncing against my face, taking my wrists and pinning them to the mattress while she moved as if she wanted to break me. Against the bed’s headboard, her kneeling with her back to me, holding onto the frame, and me fucking her standing on my knees, gripping her waist, hitting her hard until her ass slapped against her belly with a smack. The best one, in the end, was the first again: with her legs bent toward her chest and her back against the mattress, folded in half, cunt pointing upward. So deep it brushed her cervix on every thrust, and she screamed on every hit. I finished with a hoarse groan and my head buried in her neck, emptying into the condom in spasms that didn’t seem to end. I felt her clench too, coming a third time, biting my shoulder.

—Don’t tell me that’s it —she said, without opening her eyes.

—Give me a minute.

***

I gave her more than one. I kissed her back while I changed the condom and shoved my cock into her mouth again so she’d get me hard once more. She sucked me from the side, without taking me out, until I was rock hard again. She settled against the wall on all fours, ass raised and tits hanging, and said slowly, turning her head:

—The other side.

—Are you sure?

—I’ve wanted to try for ages. No one’s ever put it in my ass. Come on, open me up.

I took it slow. I spat a good stream of saliva between her butt cheeks, spread the halves apart and rubbed my thumb in circles until the little hole relaxed and started to open. Then I put one finger in, all the way, and she moaned and pushed back. I added a second. I massaged her with two fingers turning inside, while with the other hand I put another two in her cunt and pressed her clit with my thumb. She was slippery everywhere. Then I rested the tip of my cock on her asshole, pushed, and went in carefully, three millimeters, three more. She was breathing in long bursts, her hands clamped to the pillow.

—Slowly… slowly… oh, shit, you’re huge…

When I was all the way inside, my balls pressed against her cunt, she stayed still for a few seconds, getting used to it. Then she started moving on her own, pushing her ass against me, first slowly, then faster, and I understood she didn’t need me to be any more careful than I already was. I grabbed her waist and started fucking her for real, pulling out almost all the way and thrusting back into her ass. It felt different, tighter, hotter. She slipped her hand between her legs and started rubbing her clit to my rhythm, with two quick fingers, and after a few minutes she started trembling all over.

—I’m coming, I’m coming, cousin, don’t stop, fuck me, fuck my ass…

We both came at the same time. I didn’t know the exact moment. I felt her ass clenching in spasms around my cock and pulling the orgasm out of me from inside, while she screamed into the pillow and squeezed her clit until she had no air left.

We collapsed to the side, her face still red and me sticky with sweat, without saying anything. It took us a while to realize we were laughing.

***

The next morning Camila’s tongue woke me up on my body. She was licking my belly, then my balls, then she grabbed my cock and started sucking it while it was still soft. I felt it harden in her mouth, and she laughed with her mouth full. I didn’t open my eyes until I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed her head with both hands and shoved my cock down her throat, fucking her mouth slowly at first and then deep. I came in her mouth and she swallowed everything, ran her tongue over her lips, and laughed as if it were the funniest thing in the world.

—Good morning, cousin —she said, resting her head on my belly.

I fucked her before breakfast, in the kitchen, with her sitting on the table and her legs open, eating her out while she waited for the coffee to brew, and then fucking her right there until a cup fell to the floor. I fucked her again after lunch, on the sofa, with her on top, moving slowly while she bit my mouth. The second night was longer than the first: I ate her cunt until she came three times in a row, and then I fucked her every way we could think of. The third started on the living room sofa, with her kneeling and sucking me, and ended in the kitchen, against the counter, fucking her from behind with one hand on the nape of her neck pressing her face against the marble and the other on her clit. I won’t count the fourth. On the fifth we both woke up with rubbed skin, an irritated cock, a swollen cunt, and sore muscles.

We took a three-day truce. We ordered takeout, watched series sprawled on the sofa with our legs tangled together, slept twelve hours straight. Then we started again, slower this time, like two people who already know what the other likes: where to touch, when to squeeze, when to turn her over and when to leave her on top.

When my parents called at the end of the second week to say they were coming back on Sunday, we looked at each other without saying anything.

—And now what? —she asked.

—I don’t know.

—Neither do I.

All we knew was that those fifteen days weren’t going to be the last.