My Cousin Found Me Under the Table at Christmas Dinner

“So tell me, nephew, do you have a girlfriend yet?”

My aunt Patricia’s voice came through clearly over the clatter of cutlery, with that nosy curiosity she brought to everything. The table fell silent for a second and then everyone burst out laughing, that familiar laughter that filled the dining room every Christmas.

I felt heat rising up my neck. I had half-finished my plate and my fork was still in my hand. I looked around: everyone was watching me, waiting. My uncle Fernando gave the table a soft pat, the younger cousins covered their mouths, giggling, and my mom, Adriana, winked at me from the other side.

“Uh… no, Aunt. Nothing serious right now,” I said, trying to sound calm.

More laughter. My cousin Sebastián raised his glass.

“I don’t believe you for a second, Diego! With that face, you must have a few hidden away.”

“Even at the gym they keep checking you out when you show up,” my mom added, as tactless as ever.

Uncle Fernando patted my back.

“Leave him alone, this kid’s selective. You could have whoever you want, right?”

I smiled out of politeness, but my gaze met Camila’s, seated right across from me. Her smile had vanished. She was staring at me without blinking, serious, lips pressed together. She lowered her eyes to her wine glass, took a slow sip, nodding slightly, and then I felt it.

Under the table, her bare foot brushed my calf. She’d taken off her heel without anyone noticing. Her foot slid up to my groin and pressed there, firm, right on the exact spot. I hardened almost immediately beneath the fabric of my pants.

I tensed. My eyes widened; I looked quickly to both sides: no one had noticed. Camila took another sip of wine and went on chatting with my mother about university, as if she were in any other conversation, as if her foot weren’t pressing into me right under the tablecloth.

She didn’t stop. Her toes began to move around my already hard cock, slowly stroking up and down, massaging me through the fabric. Her heel braced against my thigh to keep control while her toes kept playing, circling, pressing in a steady rhythm. Every movement sent my pulse racing down there.

I clenched my teeth to keep from making a sound. I tried to lean back a little in my chair, but her foot followed, insistent, pressing harder. I had to bite the inside of my cheek.

“…right now I’m not looking for anything serious,” I repeated, my voice a little rougher. “I’m focused on work, you know.”

Aunt Patricia sighed with a smile.

“Oh, these young people… but we’re not going to let you stay single forever, hmm.”

Everyone laughed again. I lowered my hand discreetly and brushed her ankle, as if asking her to stop. She didn’t. On the contrary, her foot kept making slow circles for the rest of dinner, never leaving my crotch, ignoring my eyes, avoiding looking at me. She was doing it on purpose, and we both knew it.

***

Dinner ended with the last toast and the scraping of chairs. We all moved into the living room, that part of the house that always impressed me a little: high ceilings with white molding, a huge gray velvet sofa, lamps casting a soft glow, and a giant Christmas tree shining in the corner. Through the windows you could see the dark, manicured garden in San Ángel. Everything smelled of pine, vanilla, and my cousins’ expensive perfume.

I sat with Sebastián and a couple of other cousins. We were talking about my job — I’d just started at a consulting firm in Santa Fe — and they were asking how much they paid the first year, whether there were bonuses, whether the stress was worth it. I answered halfway, nodded, cracked a joke here and there, but the truth was I couldn’t focus.

My eyes kept drifting on their own.

Camila was on the other side of the room, standing by the fireplace, chatting with her younger sisters. She wore a tight black dress that barely reached above mid-thigh, with a V-neck and stiletto heels that made her look taller. Her brown hair fell straight to the middle of her back, shining under the light. And when she moved… it was impossible not to notice. The dress seemed made to emphasize every curve whenever she shifted her weight from one leg to the other.

I kept staring at her longer than I should have. My pulse sped up again at the memory of her foot under the table, her toes squeezing, the heat that had stayed with me all through dinner.

Then she turned her head and our gazes met. She didn’t smile. She just held my eyes for a second, with those dark eyes that seemed to know exactly what was running through my head. Then she turned and walked toward the kitchen, her heels clicking slowly down the hall.

I swallowed.

“...yeah, the year-end bonus isn’t bad,” I said, though I had no idea what they were talking about anymore.

One of my cousins nudged me, laughing.

“Hey, Diego, are you okay? You look distracted.”

“Nothing, nothing,” I forced a smile. “I’m just going to the bathroom for a second.”

I stood up, excused myself with a gesture, and walked toward the hallway. But I didn’t go to the bathroom. I turned into the kitchen.

We were a big family, the kind that fills the house at Christmas. My mom and Aunt Patricia were sisters; Patricia was married to Uncle Fernando, and Camila was the oldest of their three daughters. I was the oldest in my house. We grew up together, in these same gatherings, with no one ever imagining what had started happening between us.

***

I went into the kitchen and closed the door carefully. The click sounded too loud in the silence. Camila was with her back to me, leaning over the granite island, pretending to check one of the casserole dishes left over from dinner. The dress clung to her like a second skin. I stood there for a second staring: the bare back, the pale skin under the dim light, the hips lifting right at my eye level when she moved. I got hard instantly.

I couldn’t resist. I took two steps and hugged her from behind, pressing my body against hers. She let out a short moan, but didn’t pull away.

“You’ve had me crazy since dinner,” I murmured against her neck, kissing it slowly while my hands squeezed her waist. “I want to rip this dress off you right here.”

I kissed her neck again and felt her push her hips back, rubbing against me in a slow, deliberate motion.

“You look way too good in this,” I whispered in her ear. “I can’t wait any longer.”

She closed her eyes and let out a little moan. Her hips moved again, pressing harder, tracing small circles.

“You looked like you wanted to kill me with that look at the table,” I said, kissing her earlobe. “When my aunt asked about my girlfriend, you were furious, weren’t you?”

Camila snorted, annoyed by the memory.

“My mom and her stupid questions,” she said through clenched teeth. “Always sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.”

I gently turned her to face me. Without heels she was much shorter than I was, but with those stilettos she came almost up to my eyes. Her chest rose and fell with every quick breath.

“Don’t say that,” I told her softly, stroking her cheek. “You know it was just a joke. Nobody knows anything.”

She looked at me for a second, dark eyes shining, and little by little we brought our faces together. Our lips brushed, soft. Hers were hot, tasting of red wine and something sweet that was only hers. The kiss started slowly, but it didn’t stay that way: her breathing quickened against my mouth and then she thrust her tongue in, hungry, biting my lower lip while her hands slid up to the back of my neck.

“I need you now,” she whispered between kisses, gasping. “I can’t take it anymore. Here, now… please.”

I pulled her against me, about to lift her dress, when a noise sounded in the hallway: laughter, women’s voices coming closer.

We broke apart suddenly. Camila turned to the counter, pretending to straighten the casserole dish. I stepped back and adjusted my shirt to hide it.

The door opened and our mothers came in, laughing about something they’d been saying.

“Well, well, look who’s here,” Aunt Patricia said. “What are you two doing alone in the kitchen, hmm?”

Camila turned with the most innocent face in the world.

“I just came for water,” she said, lifting a glass she hadn’t even filled.

“And I needed a break from my cousins and their questions about work,” I added, forcing a laugh.

My mom raised an eyebrow, that one she wore when she suspected something, but said nothing. Aunt Patricia laughed and went over to the fridge.

“Well, help yourselves to whatever you want, but don’t stay too long. There’s still cake to come.”

The two of them started taking out plates and cutlery, talking again. Camila and I looked at each other for a second over their heads. Her eyes said everything we couldn’t say out loud.

She took advantage of that moment. She moved one step closer, pressing her body against mine discreetly, and her hand quickly dropped to brush the bulge still visible in my pants. She squeezed it once, firm. I felt her hot breath when she leaned in to my ear.

“Wait ten minutes and come up to my room,” she whispered, her voice low and rough. “Don’t make me wait.”

Her tongue brushed my earlobe, wet, leaving a trail of heat that ran through me. Then she pulled away like nothing had happened, turned with an innocent smile, and left the kitchen in soft clicks of her heels, not looking back.

I stayed there, dazed, with her sweet perfume stuck to my skin. I had to breathe deeply to calm down. Through the open door I saw her in the distance, going up the stairs, her dress riding up a little with each step. Of her three sisters, Camila had always been the prettiest, and not just because of her body: it was the way she moved, the way she looked, the way she made everything around her seem to disappear.

***

I went back to the living room with slightly shaky legs. I sat down again with my cousins, who were still talking about soccer, and took a long sip of whiskey, trying to bring the excitement down. It didn’t work. My mind was fixed on her, on how she would feel, on how she would moan if I had her against the door of her room.

I held out as long as I could. In the end I stood up.

“Hey, sorry, I have to take a work call,” I said. “I’ll be right back.”

No one suspected anything. Sebastián made a joke about “the boss who doesn’t rest even on Christmas” and everyone laughed. I slipped away, dodging the family, took the stairs two at a time, my heart in my throat.

The door to her room was slightly open, a sliver of soft light coming from inside. I pushed it, went in, and closed it behind me, turning the key so no one could interrupt us. Only the bedside lamp was on, bathing everything in a warm tone. Camila was waiting by the bed.

Our eyes met, and that was all we needed. We lunged at each other, our bodies colliding as we devoured each other with kisses. Her mouth was voracious, her tongue going deep, biting my lip with a low moan that vibrated against me.

“You’ve had me like this all through dinner,” she whispered, tugging my hair. “Thinking about this.”

“I can’t take it anymore,” I growled, kissing her harder.

Her hands went down to my shirt, undoing buttons urgently, then to my belt, unbuckling it fast while she bit my lip.

“You’re going to enjoy this,” she said with a wicked smile, eyes shining.

She shoved me back until I fell sitting on the bed. She knelt between my legs, yanked my pants down, and tied her hair into a high ponytail with a band she wore on her wrist, ready. She wrapped her hand around my cock and started slowly, then leaned in with her mouth. She looked into my eyes as she went down and up, slow, fast, slow again, setting the pace herself even while I buried my fingers in her ponytail. She was the best I’d ever had.

“Fuck, Camila…” I murmured, feeling the orgasm coming way too soon.

I stopped her by gently pulling her hair to lift her up. I kissed her again, fierce, while I pulled down the zipper of her dress. I took it off and left her in nothing but black lace panties; she wasn’t wearing a bra. I pushed her onto the bed and leaned over her, trailing my mouth over her chest while my hand moved between her legs, already wet.

“Yes, like that…” she gasped, arching her back, her hands pressing me against her. “Don’t stop…”

I took off her panties and turned her over on the bed, lifting her hips. I entered her in one thrust, deep, feeling her wrap around me, tight and hot. She arched her back and stifled a cry against the pillow. I started moving with firm thrusts, the collision of skin against skin echoing low in the room. I couldn’t help laughing between gasps.

“You were practically eating me with your eyes when they asked if I had a girlfriend… jealous, huh?” I gave her a playful slap on the ass that made her moan louder.

She turned her head and looked at me with narrowed eyes and a fake anger.

“Of course I was. Everyone laughing like you could have anyone except me,” she shot back, her voice broken by every thrust.

She pushed her hips back, meeting me with each movement. I slowed down, leaned in, and kissed her neck.

“But I’m yours,” I whispered with a laugh. “Only yours.”

It still wasn’t enough for her. She slipped free, shoved me onto my back on the bed, and climbed on top, taking me inside in one motion while moaning and starting to ride me hard. I held her hips, then her chest.

“Say it right. I’m your girlfriend, right? Nobody else makes you come like this,” she demanded, moving faster.

“Yeah, fuck, you’re my girlfriend… my everything,” I admitted, laughing as I watched her take control of me.

She leaned forward and caught my mouth in a long kiss, never slowing the pace.

“Say it again,” she murmured against my lips, biting them.

I hugged her tightly and rolled her over again, now face-to-face, her legs wrapping around my waist and her nails digging into my back. I drove into her deeply, speeding up.

“You’re mine, Camila… you’re my girlfriend,” I growled, thrusting faster.

Her moans turned into muffled screams. She came first, trembling beneath me in waves that pulled me in with her. I couldn’t hold back any longer: I sped up until I finished inside her, groaning her name, while the distant echo of the party downstairs reminded us of the risk.

“Next time, don’t look at me like that in public,” I teased, still holding her close.

Camila laughed softly and curled against my chest.

***

We stayed like that for a while, panting, our bodies pressed together and her brown hair tousled over her face. I held her tight.

“I missed you,” she murmured, kissing my chest. “I needed this with you.”

“We both needed it,” I said, stroking her back.

She lifted her head with that mischievous smile.

“Thank God we’re on the second floor. Otherwise they’d hear us all the way to Tlalpan,” I laughed.

“I wouldn’t care,” she said, shrugging. “There’s nothing wrong with being with my boyfriend. Let them hear if they want to.”

“We’re not just any kind of boyfriend and girlfriend, Camila.”

“Cousins or not, I don’t care. I’m yours and you’re mine. End of story.”

She gave me another kiss, long and slow, a mix of tenderness and hunger. When she pulled away, she looked at me straight on.

“Don’t forget it again. There’s no one else.”

My cousin was crazy about me, that much was obvious. And I couldn’t stop looking at her. I felt myself harden again against her thigh, and she noticed immediately.

“Ooh, you’re already ready for round two,” she laughed, sexy as hell.

I kissed her quickly, but shook my head.

“No time. They’re waiting for us downstairs.”

She got off the bed and leaned into my ear with that voice that knew exactly how to turn me on.

“It’s the weekend soon. Then I’ll be all yours, and you can do whatever you want to me… if you behave.”

“I hope it gets here already,” I murmured, almost pleading.

She always knew how to leave me on edge. She laughed softly and started getting dressed slowly, pulling the dress up over her legs, letting the fabric cling to her still-wet body. She didn’t put her panties back on; she left them on the floor. She winked at me.

“Don’t take too long.”

She left first, her heels clicking softly down the hallway. I stayed seated for a second, breathing deeply, thinking of her going down the stairs and smiling at the family as if nothing had happened, while under her dress she wasn’t wearing absolutely anything. It was madness. But it was our madness.

***

I dressed quickly, fixed my hair, and went downstairs. The party was still in full swing. The aunts were bringing out the cake and the smell of chocolate filled the living room. My cousins were still on the sofa, glasses in hand.

Sebastián saw me come in and raised an eyebrow.

“So how was the call, man? Took you a while.”

“Too well,” I replied, sitting down like nothing had happened and taking a sip of my whiskey. “Everything’s sorted.”

I kept chatting — soccer, work, dumb jokes — but my eyes couldn’t help drifting to her. She was on the other side of the room, talking with her sisters, laughing as if the world were perfect. The dress clung to her a little more from the heat, and I knew she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. She looked at me for a second over her shoulder, with that tiny smile only I understood, and I felt everything stir again beneath my pants.

No one could have imagined what had happened less than five minutes earlier. And I already wanted more. For the rest of the night, I couldn’t stop remembering her moans.