My Cousin Was Waiting for Me with an Old Fantasy

It all started with a message at two in the morning. Adrián wrote to me that he’d had a fantasy for years that he’d never dared tell anyone, and that fantasy was me. That he wanted to have sex with me, specifically anal sex, and that it wasn’t the first time he’d done it within the family.

—I already tried it with my father’s wife —he confessed, bluntly—. And since then I haven’t stopped thinking about doing it with you.

I should have been scandalized. Instead, I found myself staring at my phone screen in the dark of my room, rereading those words over and over, feeling my pulse quicken.

At first I resisted. I told him he was crazy, that we were cousins, that I’d never done it that way and had no intention of making my debut with him. But the idea stuck in me for days, like a tiny splinter that only hurts when you brush against it.

And who better than him to teach me?

That question was what finally beat me. We’d spent our whole lives circling each other without saying anything, trading glances that lasted a second too long at every family meal. He lived in Zaragoza, I lived in Valencia, and just then I happened to be going north for a few days on some work errands. The excuse was served up to us.

—I’m going to be in your city next week —I finally wrote him—. If you still want to, we’ll talk when I get there.

He took three seconds to reply. It took me three days to regret not having written him sooner.

***

I arrived on a gray morning and he was waiting for me on the platform. As soon as I saw him I felt the tension between us, that dense electricity that hovers when two people know exactly why they’ve arranged to meet but neither dares name it yet.

—You look prettier than in the photos —he said, and gave me a hug that lasted a little longer than a hug between cousins should.

I didn’t answer. I smiled and let him carry my suitcase to the car.

The first thing was to take care of my errands. I spent the morning between offices and signatures, and by noon I called him to have lunch together. We chose a small place, with tables crowded close together, and it was during that lunch that I started to play.

I undid one button on my blouse, just enough for the neckline to gain ground every time I leaned over my plate. Under the table, I let the tip of my foot slide up his leg, slowly, until it came to rest between his thighs. He stopped chewing halfway through a sentence.

—Keep that up and I won’t be responsible for myself —he murmured.

I kept going. And later, when we were already on our way to his place, he confessed between laughs that he’d come in the restaurant, just from the brush of my foot and the weight of my stare.

—You’re a mess —I told him.

—It’s your fault —he answered, and for the first time he took my hand over the gearshift.

***

His apartment was empty. The moment he closed the door, the air changed. There were no waiters, no tables, no excuses anymore. Just the two of us and all those years of built-up tension.

—Since when? —I asked, leaning against the hallway wall—. Since when have you been dying to do it with me?

—Since a lot longer ago than you think. Since those summers in the village, when we’d play silly games that never led anywhere.

—And you never had the nerve to tell me. It had to be a message at two in the morning, almost like you were writing to a stranger.

He lowered his gaze, and that small surrender was the last thing I needed. I was already soaked before we took another step.

Without another word, he threw himself on me. He opened my blouse clumsily, pulled my breasts out of my bra, and dove in to suck them as if he’d been starving for years. There was nothing delicate about it; there was need, and that turned me on more than any rehearsed caress.

Fuck, what pleasure.

He stayed like that for several minutes, leaving my nipples hard and shiny with saliva, biting them right on the edge between pleasure and pain. I grabbed the back of his neck, pushing him against me, not wanting him to stop.

Then he went lower. He dragged me to the bedroom, laid me on the edge of the bed, and wrestled with my miniskirt until my thong was on display. He ripped it off with an impatient tug.

And then he discovered it.

—What do you have here? —he asked, his voice hoarse, brushing the base of the plug I’d put in that very morning, thinking of this moment.

—I came prepared —I told him—. I didn’t want to give you any excuses.

***

From that point on, he completely lost his mind. He pulled his pants down in one motion. His dick wasn’t the biggest in the world, but it was hard, thick enough, and the way he looked at me while he held it was worth more than any size.

He grabbed my hair and put me on my knees on the floor. He wasn’t rough; he was firm, and I obeyed gladly.

I never imagined I’d end up kneeling in front of my cousin, sucking him like nothing else in the world existed.

He slid it into my mouth slowly at first, and then set the rhythm himself, holding my head with both hands. I gagged a couple of times, but I didn’t care. It was obvious he knew what he was doing, that this wasn’t the first time someone had let themselves be used by him like that.

When he got tired of my mouth, he laid me on my back and sat astride my chest. I’d never done a Cuban, but he guided the movement, sliding between my tits while I squeezed them around him. It didn’t last long. It was too much for him and he ended up coming over my chest, with a few spurts reaching my chin and lips.

I didn’t let him rest. I went down again, cleaned his cock with my tongue, and got him hard again. He took less time than I expected to be hard once more.

—Before the ass, I want to fuck your cunt —he told me, almost pleading.

—Then do it —I replied.

***

He put on a condom, because I don’t take anything, and penetrated me like a man released from a cage. I’d never been with a man who fucked with that intensity, who seemed to want to brand me from the inside with every thrust.

I put my hand on my clit and started rubbing myself to the rhythm he set. The tension kept building, layer upon layer, until I exploded in a way I didn’t remember ever having experienced. It was my first real orgasm, the kind that leaves you breathless and a little frightened of your own body.

—Wait a second —I begged him, trembling.

He didn’t listen to me. He kept driving into me, holding my hips, until after a few minutes he warned me he was close.

—In my mouth —I told him—. I want you to finish in my mouth.

He took off the condom and emptied himself a second time, this time between my lips. I’d never done that before; it had always seemed disgusting to me, but his taste was different from what I’d imagined, almost sweet. I swallowed it all, looking him in the eyes.

I was in his net, and the idea of being his personal whore stopped frightening me.

After the second fuck he had to stop. Two in a row was too much, even for him. We stayed lying there for a while, catching our breath, our legs tangled together and the room smelling of sex.

***

—Do you still want to? —he asked after a while, stroking my back—. The ass thing, I mean.

—I do —I admitted—. I’m a little scared, but I want to try something this obscene.

I went back down to his cock and started sucking him again, this time unhurried, also stopping at his balls. That drove him crazy. He kept saying my name, begging me not to stop, saying, “There, there, like that.”

When I felt him hard again, I sat up.

—Let’s do it —I told him.

I could see he was nervous, though not as much as I was. After all, he already had experience with his father’s wife, and that certainty, far from bothering me, calmed me: I knew I was in good hands.

I got on all fours. He carefully removed the plug and, before anything else, brought his mouth down and started licking my sphincter. It was a strange mix of tickling and pleasure, something I’d never felt before and that made me arch my back.

He stayed like that for a few minutes. Then he took the lubricant from the nightstand, coated one finger, and started to open me slowly. At first it was difficult, a taut resistance, but I gave way. Then he added a second finger. It took a bit more effort, and even so my body began to get used to it, stretching against my will and my will surrendering at the same time.

—Ready? —he asked.

—Yes. But slowly. Please.

***

He placed the tip against my still-virgin entrance and pushed. It didn’t go in. The head of his cock was wider than it had seemed, and mine closed instinctively. He tried a second time, with more patience, and then yes: the glans gave way and slipped in.

I let out a long moan, somewhere between a complaint and relief.

—Keep going —I told him—. But slowly, I’m asking you.

He moved forward millimeter by millimeter until he got the whole head in, and then a little more, until halfway. Even though I was very turned on, it felt as if everything inside me were burning, a heat that didn’t quite hurt but didn’t quite feel good either.

He stopped. He waited for me to adjust, breathing against the back of my neck, and only when I asked him to continue did he push the rest of it in. He took it all the way in. I stayed still, taking in the sensation of being completely full of him.

—Pump a little —I murmured after a while—. Let’s see if it hurts.

He started softly, barely sliding in and out, and gradually increased the pace to a moderate back-and-forth. The pain was bearable, it almost blended into something else, and then I dared to ask.

—Harder. Pull it all the way out and shove it back in.

He obeyed. He fucked my ass like that for about ten minutes, pulling out all the way and burying himself in again to the hilt, until his breathing turned into broken gasps.

—I can’t take it anymore —he said—. I’m gonna cum.

—Pull out —I ordered—. I want you to finish on my face.

He came out just in time, turned me onto my back, and unloaded everything over my face and breasts, never taking his eyes off me, as if he wanted to burn the image into his memory forever.

That was how my cousin, the one who’s ten years younger than me, took my back door virginity.

***

That night we didn’t sleep. We kept fucking until dawn, trying positions we didn’t even know we knew, laughing between gasps at how absurd and perfect it all was.

Before we fell asleep, with daylight already coming in through the window, I told him about his stepmother. About how she and I had talked more than enough, about how the idea of the three of us together wasn’t crazy at all. He smiled against my shoulder and said there was nothing for him to think about.

That will be our next adventure. But that one is still another story.