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From: friedman@tznet.com (J. Friedman)
Subject: I Could Eat You Up (MF, cousins, teen, cons, oral)
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-+-+-+-+-+-+-
Obligatory disclaimer: this story contains potentially offensive
material dealing with a sexual situation between two cousins (neither
underage).  If you feel this material would offend you, best turn off
your computer before you are further tempted.  If you live in an area
where it is illegal to view material of this sort, hey, don't blame me
if you get caught viewing it, I didn't kidnap you and force you to
read it, did I?  If you are under 18 (21 in some areas), you should
probably not be viewing this story; I take no responsibility if you
are.  This is a fictional account; all similarity to real persons
living or dead is coincidental.
-+-+-+-+-+-+-

I Could Eat You Up

MF, cousins, teen, cons, oral

I almost never see my extended family.  Never did much when I was
younger, either.  I grew up so far away from them geographically that
it just wasn't possible.  Maybe that's why I'm not very comfortable
with them...we never seem to have anything to say to each other, me
and my grandparents and uncles and aunts and cousins.  Not to mention
the fact that they all live in the same small town, while my parents
left early on for Madison--not a metropolis by any means, but way
bigger than Carson, the town in southern Iowa where their families
live, and more cosmopolitan by far.  

So I'd have to say that my visits to Carson with my folks, though
infrequent, are pretty uniformly excruciating.  No one wants to hear
about my career or my interests; all they can seem to ask about is the
weather in Wisconsin, how the Badgers are doing this season, and when
am I going to marry a nice boy and have some great-grandchildren for
Grandma?  I would much rather languish alone in my little
professional-woman apartment than spend ten minutes with my extended
family.

The one exception these last few years has been my cousin Steve.  He's
18 now, and just started college at the University of Iowa.  I
remember when he was born--I was maybe nine years old.  His folks were
overjoyed, since they had two girls already (my cousins Kelly and
Karine, both empty-headed as balloons, who now work together at the
Price Mart in Carson while they date every married man in town).
Although Steve and I weren't close when he was younger, in recent
years we've each found the other to be the only reasonably fun person
to talk to in the whole family.  It helps that he's intelligent (we
always compare books we've recently read) and relates well to women,
having grown up dealing with Kelly and Karine.

This last year, since he's been at college, Steve has been writing me
e-mail, something that also differentiates us from the rest of the
family--we're the only two Internet-heads.  Every time I get an e-mail
from him, bubbling with stories of his acclimation to college life and
his near-misses with shy freshman girls, I can't help but think: what
a catch this kid is.  If only I weren't his cousin, and if only I were
nine years younger, and went to school with him!  He's smart, he's
sweet, he's cute (description later) and his heart is in the right
place.  As I get older, I realize how important a guy's heart is.  You
don't think about that in college, at least I didn't.

Anyway, some strange things happened last time me and my folks went to
Carson for our yearly visit.  It's hard to know where to start....My
state of mind wasn't all that good that weekend, to begin with.  My
boyfriend Mark, who I'd met on the Internet, had just broken up with
me via e-mail, something I consider inappropriate no matter WHERE we
met...*grrr* I was well rid of him, but the sting of rejection hadn't
gone away yet.  So there I was, riding in my parents' back seat,
feeling like a ten-year-old again, just like I always do when they
drive me down to Carson for a visit.  I really should drive down in my
own car, just for the feeling of independence, but it never makes
sense to take two cars for three people.  Just once, though, I'd like
to sit in the front seat...!

"Hey, Mom, do you know which of the cousins will be there?" I can't
read in the car, so all there is to do on these trips is talk to the
folks.

"Not sure...Carrie said Kelly and Karine both got the night off..."

"Oh, joy."

"Now, you know they do their best to include you, but you brush them
off...you ought to be nicer.  Who else?  Chris and his girlfriend,
probably..."

"Steve e-mailed me to say he'd be there."

"You kids and your e-mail."  I was going to draw myself up, with all
27 of my years, and protest being called a kid, but decided I was too
glad at the thought of seeing Steve to bother pressing the issue.

When Grandma opened the door, the smell of burned potatoes wafted out
at us.  Try as she might, Grandma never could organize herself enough
to cook a whole meal without burning something; I'm suprised my mom
didn't die of starvation as a kid.  We all just try to ignore the
smell, and after awhile, it doesn't seem so bad.  We went through the
rituals of hugs all ‘round, then were shuffled into the living room
for more hugs.  I could already feel my headache starting.

The group looked about the same as every year, except that Kelly and
Karine had gone blonde recently.  "Like your hair," I said gamely,
sitting down next to them.

"Thanks, want us to do yours?" said Kelly, at the same time that
Karine asked, "You got a boyfriend yet?".  Overcome with dread at the
idea of spending even a minute discussing hair or boyfriends with
them, I stood again, a panicked smile pasted on my face.  Grandma
announced dinner just then, and we all went into the dining room.

We were starting on the salad (thank goodness Grandma couldn't burn
that) when I realized Steve wasn't at the table, and hadn't been in
the living room.  I asked Aunt Carrie about him.  "Steve said he
thought he was coming down with something, poor guy," she said,
drowning her salad in dressing.  "He's in the back bedroom lying down.
Said you should come back and say hi when you got here, though."

I've always had a work ethic, always thought you should get something
unpleasant over with before running off to play.  For that reason I
waited all the way through the salad and into the entree course--a
whole nine minutes!--to abandon the table and go find Steve, the only
person in the house I actually wanted to talk to.  When I felt like
I'd suffered enough (I'd already been asked by three people how my
love life was going) I excused myself, went to the kitchen, and got a
glass of orange juice to take to Steve.  (I managed to miss the burned
potatoes, thank goodness.)

I knocked on the door to the back bedroom.  "Who is it?"

"It's me, li'l guy," I said, using my pet name for him.  "Lila."

"C'mon in, I'm just hiding from the clan," he said, and I pushed the
door open.  He was lying on his side on the bed.  The first thing I
noticed was that he didn't look sick, just bored and adorable.  He's
not what you'd call a ‘built' kid, doesn't lift weights or anything,
but he has a nice sturdy frame, with not too much fat on his bones,
and one of those sweet roundish faces that you know will become more
angular with time, so you want to enjoy it now.  He'd been growing his
brown hair; it now reached past his shoulders, and was escaping from a
rubber band at the back of his neck.  There was a light shadow on his
jaws; was it possible he was shaving already?  His blue eyes opened
wide as he sat up and saw me, and a smile that would melt anyone's
heart broke across his face. Adorable. I set the orange juice on the
nightstand.

"Hey!" he said, standing up to give me a hug.  "Lila!  Long time no
see!  I won't ask you what's been up though...got your e-mail
yesterday.  Too bad about Mark.  He obviously has no taste." His arms
seemed stronger than last year, and felt good around me.  Maybe he was
lifting weights.

"That's what I think..." We sat down on the bed and I told him how
upset it made me to read the words "don't think it will work" and
"this hurts me as much as it will hurt you" in an e-mail message.  He
nodded sympathetically.  

"That's crass.  I mean, I'm only a college freshman, and even I know
you don't dump someone in an e-mail."

"Yeah, but you're an exceptional college freshman," I said, smiling.

"No..." he blushed, which made me stare a bit, fascinated.  "My grades
aren't anything special."

"I meant, you're an exceptional person."  I decided to tell him what
I'd been thinking, before I could censor myself.  "I've been thinking
what a catch you are, l'il guy.  You have a good heart, you know?  And
you're...you're adorable.  If the girls haven't noticed that by now,
they aren't looking very carefully."

He blushed even deeper, and slumped forward in embarrassment.
"Geez...thanks, Lila.  It means a lot coming from you...you being a
woman, and all that."

I laughed, trying to ignore the fact that I was blushing a little,
myself.  "Yeah, well...I'm only being honest.  Don't take me as an
example, either--you'll be married to some wonderful girl by the time
you're anywhere near my age."

He looked at me soberly.  "Do you wish you were married?"

I thought about it.  "Kind of...I get lonely in my apartment.  I wish
I had the skills to go out looking for men, but I really don't, if you
don't count the Internet..." I sighed, remembering Mark.  "And it
doesn't help that all the relatives keep asking when I'm going to find
a husband.  I'm sure half of them think I'm a lesbian by now."

He laughed loudly, then suddenly got quiet.  "Well...are you?"

"No!" I grabbed the pillow and bopped him with it, giggling.  "Not in
the least, you silly."

Steve was still quiet.  He gazed at the wall of the bedroom, where
Grandma had put up an unidentifiable piece of art, possibly made of
pinecones, from her recent Alaskan cruise.  "I'm glad you're not," he
said to the wall.  "Because, you know, you're really pretty, and
really neat, and it'd be a loss if some guy didn't get you."

He was blushing even more deeply, if that were possible, than before.
I felt a wave of tenderness rush over me as I leaned forward and gave
him a hug.  "You sweetie," I said softly in his ear, and hugged him,
planting a kiss on his cheek.  "I could eat you up.  Thank you."

I pressed my cheek to his and could feel his smile widen, then ease,
as I held him.  Then--honestly, I don't know how it happened, I would
not have let it happen if I'd noticed it about to happen--his cheek
was sliding across my skin and his mouth was coming around, warm and
soft, pressing onto mine, in a kiss that was somehow tentative and
erotic at once.

Maybe it was the fact that I hadn't seen Mark in six months.  Maybe it
was the fact that he'd so unceremoniously dumped me just a few days
before.  Maybe it was the loneliness of spending my evenings alone,
masturbating to my one porno video, and dreaming of hands touching my
body.  I don't know what it was, but I couldn't break this kiss.  I
needed this kiss, and anything else Steve had for me.

He broke away at last, looking afraid, and glanced at the door.
"Um...Lila, I'm sorry..."

I looked at him very seriously.  "Steve, you don't need to be sorry.
I really liked that.  Any girl would like that."  I smiled
encouragingly, then got up and locked the door, as he sat looking
confused.  "You do need to know how to do more, though..."

"More?" He shifted uncomfortably on the bed, watching me.

"Yes.  Have you ever french-kissed anyone?"

"No...that's with the tongue in...um..."

"That's right.  You know, if you wanted me to, I'd help you learn...no
harm in kissing..."  He looked doubtful.  "Silly!  There are tribes in
Africa where everyone kisses with tongue, even strangers from other
villages.  It's an insult there, if you don't."

He smiled a little, skeptically.  "We weren't in Africa, last time I
checked."

I sat back and folded my arms.  "If you don't want to learn,
fine...you can just fumble your way with some girl at a frat party..."

He made a face.  "I don't go to frat parties, you know that."

"Well, then, you won't have a chance to practice until it really
matters.  Don't you want to get it down pat before then?"

You could see the gears turning over this rationale.  "All right, but
just once."

I grinned at him, and felt for all the world like I was doing him a
service, teaching him something he'd need to know.  Why I didn't
consider how turned-on I was, why I didn't stop myself from doing
this, I'll never know, but I leaned forward again, looked into his
eyes, put my hand on his lightly bristly cheek, and kissed him.  Oh,
it felt so good...my heart started beating faster at the old feeling
of soft lips touching mine, and I moved, purely from physical memory,
deeper into it, turning my head as I opened my lips, seeking a truly
deep kiss.

His gasp as my tongue touched his lips was audible.  In a second,
though, he seemed to regain composure, and his lips parted and
accepted my tongue, warm and wet.  A true beginner, he wasn't sure
what to do at first, but I poked at his tongue with mine and it soon
came alive, twining and exploring.  I felt his hand on my face, then
my neck, caressing...how did he know how much I loved to have my neck
touched?

I let out an involuntary moan, just a small one, and in one natural
move, I pushed him back onto the bed and moved so I was lying next to
him, leaning my body against his.  I put my arm across his chest and
pressed against him, kissing harder.  In a moment he broke the kiss,
his brow furrowed.  "Lila..."

"Shhhh, relax," I said softly.  "This is so much fun...you're good at
this."

That stopped him in his tracks, his protests forgotten.  "Really?"

"Yes!  You're a fast learner.  Can I show you a couple more things?"

I could see I had him; I could feel the heat coming off his body, and
when I looked surreptitiously down the bed, I could see a tentlike
protrusion below the waistband of his sweatpants.  Ohhh...that
clinched it for me.  I was going to see what he had in there if it
took all evening.

He noticed my glance and the blush came back, hotter than ever.  "If
you...if you want...what kind of things?"

"You'll see."  I got up and turned off the ceiling light, leaving the
room lit only by one of those balloon lamps that little kids have in
their rooms, probably left over from the visit of some cousin or other
years ago.  By the light of the balloons, I lifted my shirt over my
head, then took off my bra, as he watched with huge eyes.  "Now you,"
I said, gesturing to his t-shirt.

I've never seen anyone remove an article of clothing so fast.  It was
as though he were trying to minimize the amount of time his eyes were
behind the fabric, so he could keep staring at me.  And staring he
was, at my breasts glowing white in the lamplight.  He tossed the
t-shirt to the floor, and I lay back down on the bed, pressing myself
against his hard young chest, and kissed him again.  There's nothing
like the first contact of chest to chest, is there?  That's when you
first savor intimate contact...that's when you first glimpse pleasure
to come.

I heard his breath come quicker as I rubbed against him slightly.  His
tongue arched and played against mine, and his hands roamed my back,
my waist...obviously not knowing whether to try more taboo areas.  I
answered his unspoken question by reaching back and moving his hand
onto my behind, where I was rewarded with an enthusiastic squeeze and
the cutest little sigh you ever heard.  

I smiled into his kiss and reached around to cup one of his buttocks
in my hand.  This had the interesting result of pressing the fronts of
our bodies more directly together as our arms reached around each
other, and I took advantage of this by swinging a leg over his body
and pushing myself up onto my knees and hands, hovering directly over
him.

My hair hung down around his face as I grinned down at him.  I saw his
gaze move down to my breasts, now swinging free and brushing his
chest, then back up to my eyes, and he suddenly grinned back.  I think
it had just occurred to him that we could have a lot of fun with no
possible repercussions, as long as the lock on the door held.

His hands went to my breasts, touching softly at first, then kneading
and massaging.  "Touch the nipples," I whispered, and his thumbs
grazed them obediently.  I whimpered at the little shock of pleasure
that even that little touch afforded me.  Smart boy, he took this as
encouragement and flicked my nipples harder, making me nearly collapse
on him.  I leaned down and kissed his neck, sucking slightly, and
tasting his soft teenage skin.

"That...feels good," he whispered.

"Just wait," I said softly, and lowered my blue-jeaned hips onto his
lower body, oh-so-slowly.  Even through the denim, I could feel the
waves of heat coming from his crotch--and then, oh god, I could feel
the tent pole itself, bending slightly as I lowered myself more.  I
looked up to catch his expression and found that his mouth was wide
open in amazement, his eyes staring at the ceiling.  I ground my hips
against him just a tiny bit, and his eyes flew to mine as he made a
noise somewhere between shouting and strangling.

"Shhh, you want the family to hear?" I hissed, and moved my hips a bit
more, then a bit more.  Then a rhythm, slow but insistent.  He
switched to softer noises, little bubbling moans that were music to my
ears.  The heat coming from his cock was inspiring similar heat from
my pussy, and I felt wetness creep through my panties.  Could he feel
it?  It was obvious that he was feeling something; his breathing was
starting to take on a heavy quality, as though he were running a
marathon, and seemed to come in time with my hip thrusts.

Suddenly, I stopped.  The disappointment on his face was comical.
Maybe he thought I was irritated that he'd just been lying there; his
hands went to my breasts again, ready to work on my nipples.  "No," I
whispered.  "I want to give you something."

"What?" His voice held a mixture of worry and lust.

As an answer, I slid down his body until my face was directly above
the impressive bulge in his sweatpants.  Knowing that anticipation is
90% of the pleasure of the first touch, I reached for the bulge in
excruciating slow motion.  He stared down at me as though he had no
control over anything happening below his waist, and, well, I guess he
didn't.

As my hand made contact, he gasped again; when I moved it with a sort
of stirring motion, he twisted his upper body in sudden pleasure,
moaning.  I sat up to take the weight off my hands.  Still moving one
hand on his crotch, with the other I traced the fuzz of brown hair
that began in the center of his chest and led, changing along the way,
down to the waistband of his sweatpants--and beyond.  In one sudden
move I pulled the waistband down with both hands, allowing his smooth,
hard cock to pop out in the most appetizing way.  I took a moment to
stare at it, then peered back up at him.  He caught his breath and
swallowed, looking at me nervously.

I looked reassuringly into his eyes.  "Li'l guy," I said in tones of
appreciation, "you're not so li'l anymore, are you?"

He smiled, the smile of an angel, and I leaned down over his body to
kiss him once more, his delicious tongue spiraling up to meet mine.
Then, reluctantly breaking the kiss, I moved back down and turned my
attention to the task at hand.

Hand it was, at first--and he seemed to appreciate my hand with all
his might.  I began by curling my fingers around his dick and moving
my hand lightly up and down.  His breath caught in his throat.  I
closed my fingers and pulled up and down hard, and he emitted what
sounded like sobs.  I looked up to see his eyes closed and his hands
on the pillow beside his head, like a baby's sleeping position, his
fists clenching and unclenching as I pumped my hand on his silky cock.
Awww...adorable was definitely the word for him.

I swirled my fingers around the sensitive head of his penis, and his
eyes flew open to see what I was doing, then closed again as I added
my other hand, resuming the pumping action.  "Steve?  How does this
feel?"

"Nnnnnnngood," he moaned, his hips bucking slightly beneath me.  "So
good..."

"I'm glad," I said quietly, and scooted back slightly so I could lean
over his cock.  "Because I think you'll really like this:"

And I took his hot, rock-hard penis in my mouth all at once, tasting
the sweet and slightly metallic flavor of it, smoothing saliva and
pre-cum down the length as I went.

The sound he made is impossible for me to describe.  I imagine it's
similar to the sound a young tiger might make as it sees the
possibility of making its first kill, or the cry an eagle might
produce  as it first feels the wind under its wings.  Exulting,
surprised, vulnerable, and joyful all at once.  I held him in my
mouth, moving only my tongue, for a moment, while his limbs stopped
spasming and his hands, trembling, reached to twine in my hair.

Then, slowly, I started to piston up and down, moving my tongue in
small circles on the upstrokes to catch that sensitive spot on the
underside of the head.  "Lila," he whispered in an almost frightened
tone, "Lila, oh god, I've never...oh god...feels so good..."

My heart raced along with his; I couldn't believe what I was doing to
my adorable little cousin, or how much he was loving it.  I continued
the motion, knowing if I stopped we might never begin again.  He
seemed to be producing precum in buckets; it tasted salty against the
back of my tongue.  His legs were beginning to spasm again under me,
and his hands gripped my head hard, as his moans went on and on.
"Lila...ohhhhhhh...nnnnnnn..."

I sensed that he was close--I think the first time never takes long,
they're so caught up in the moment.  I steeled myself and, for one
final exclamation point on the evening, thrust a hand under his cock
and enveloped his soft balls in my hand, squeezing just slightly
enough to make my presence known, while I bobbed up and down on his
burning cock.  That was enough for Steve.
"Nnnnnnn...yes...I'm...aaaaaaaaaaahhh...", and a volley of cum hit my
palate with the velocity of a gunshot, startling me with its force,
then another, and another, and another, and another, and
another...they say men are at their sexual peak at 18 years old!  I
believe it, now.  By the time he had quieted down and stopped bucking
his hips, my mouth was completely filled with his cum--and there was
more left to lick up, dripping down his penis into the soft curls of
his pubic hair.

As his breathing began to subside, I lifted my head, looked into his
eyes, and swallowed everything in my mouth.  He caressed my hair
tenderly, a look of amazement playing over his face.  I went back to
lick up what was left, and he sighed happily.

When I'd licked him clean, I crept up to lie with my face close to
his.  "What do you think, li'l guy?" I whispered in his ear.  "Did you
like it?"

"Did I like it?" he repeated in amazement. "Lila, it was...you didn't
have to do that.  It was...it was incredible.  It was exquisite.
Thank you..."

"I know I didn't have to do it," I said, playing with a lock of his
hair and snuggling my body against his.  "I wanted to.  I wanted to
give you pleasure.  I know you must be frustrated at school, with all
those clueless college girls who don't know enough to be attracted to
you."

"I am," he said, sounding not very frustrated at all, at the moment.
"You know, you didn't really help, either, showing me what I'm
missing."  His voice sounded teasing, mock-irritated.

"You think they'd do that for you?" I asked, sitting up.  "No.  They'd
be too shy.  You'd have to persuade them, and even then, you'd never
be sure they were enjoying it.  You'll have to wait until you're old
enough to date WOMEN, not girls, for them to give you that."

"I can't wait," he breathed, his hands reaching for my breasts again.
There was already a new bulge in his sweatpants.  Wow.  But I knew it
was time, at last, for a little restraint.  The family would be done
with dinner, and someone would knock on the door any minute now.  I
drew my body away and kissed his moist forehead lovingly.

"You can wait," I said decisively.  "And if you haven't found anyone
by next year, I promise I'll give you the next installment in my
series of lessons."

The radiant smile on his face was all the reward I needed.

The rest of the visit to Carson went pretty much as usual.  Kelly and
Karine succeeded, the next day, in luring me out to Ribordy's
Drugstore to pick out some hair dye, but all I would buy was a kit to
put subtle highlights in my dark brown hair.  "You know, Lila, you're
boring," said Kelly, and Karine agreed, "Yeah, you'll never get a man
this way."

I laughed and grabbed a six-pack of condoms, as we passed them on our
way to the checkout.  A present for Steve, in case he should decide to
do any experimentation once he returned to the dorm.  I wanted that
boy safe.  "Maybe I won't get a man.  But there are more important
things in life."

Kelly looked affronted, and Karine gasped.  "Oh, yeah?  Like what?"

I put an arm around Karine and hugged her, unexpectedly.  "Like
family!"

c1998 J. Friedman--all rights reserved, okay?


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