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Two years later, I was living in Phoenix, and had the good fortune of not only still dating Jenna, but of having her living only a mile or two away. She had moved the year before and taken a nursing job downtown. We’d been so busy setting up a life in Arizona that we had rarely gotten to the coast to see family.
This Christmas, though, we’d resolved to get there. Neither of us had forgotten the adventure at the Excalibur in Vegas, and Jenna had actually kept the pink panties belonging to my cousin (needless to say, we had made use of them on a few other occasions as well). Whether she had told Denise that she had taken them she wouldn’t say.
To my delight, Denise suggested we stay at her new condo near the beach, which, due to her new advertising job, was way more room than she could use. My cousin was single once again. Mike was a distant memory, and there had been a few others in between. She explained to us that she was just incredibly picky, and probably not easy to date. She’d been the “leaver” each time. ‘Well, of, course’, I thought. ‘No man in his right mind would choose to break up with her.’ I was jealous of the guys who got to have her for even one night.
We were installed in her spare bedroom downstairs on the afternoon of Christmas Eve, with the rest of the family staying at other houses or in a hotel. It was an “upside-down” condo, with the kitchen and living areas on the top floor, and all of the bedrooms downstairs. Denise’s room was right next door to ours.
Jenna came to bed that night in a special outfit I had never seen before: a red lace bustier with matching thong and sheer red stockings — perfect for the holidays, right? I never got it all completely off her, but as I was sliding in and out of her soft wet lips from behind, she kept whispering to me over her shoulder about how my cousin was just on the other side of the wall, and how much she’d like to invite her over and dine on her pussy while I watched. I silently gave another shout out to the almighty for allowing me to have this exquisitely perverted creature for a girlfriend.
I had asked her several times if she and my cousin, who’d been friends for a while, had ever hooked up, and if not, why the hell not? Her response was usually just a sly smile, an explanation that Denise was not that kind of girl, and a simple, ” Don’t worry, honey. If it happens, you’ll be the first to know.”
When once I probed further, she just said, “Trust me, Thom. I know this girl. There are lots of things that would have to happen for her to ever even consider it. First off, she’s really only into guys, and if I were to try something at the wrong time it would ruin any chance — for all time.”
“So why don’t you try getting her a little tipsy?”
She shook her head slowly, her curly black hair bouncing back and forth. “Alcohol doesn’t work on Denise, darling. She gets sleepy and passes out after 2 or 3 drinks.”
I grinned. “Hmmm…. I’m imagining Denise passed out on a couch. The perfect opportunity for us.”
“For us? Why you sick and twisted little wacko…. It’s bad enough to lust after your first cousin without wanting to molest the poor girl in her sleep.” She paused. “Now, for me to be in that situation, however, not so bad…Hmmmm….”
She did the thing that always drove me nuts, biting her lower lip and drawing her eyes upward as if contemplating a truly naughty scenario. I always felt like jumping her when she did that. And, of course, at all other times as well.
The memory of that conversation faded quickly as I pulled out and shot a very sticky load of cum onto Jenna’s lower back. She moaned softly and rolled over, falling quickly asleep, as evidenced by the deep rise and fall of her delicate breasts.
As for me, I couldn’t sleep at all, thinking of Denise in the next room, so at the risk of Santa Claus passing me over, I got up, put on boxers and a T-shirt, and crept slowly upstairs to the living room.
One thing I’ll say for my cousin: she had great taste in decorating. The marble-floored living room featured two amazingly comfortable white couches, a huge fluffy white rug, a large glass coffee table, and a wall mounted 48 inch LCD TV. This was also the site of the newly decorated and twinkling Christmas tree, which only added to the cozy atmosphere.
I curled up on the bigger of the two couches and found a replay of the Laker game in HD. It was illegal bahis a blowout, but I held out hope that my Suns might come back, so on I watched. I had just started to doze when I heard a whisper from the top of the staircase. “Thom? What are you doing up here?”
I glanced up sleepily and there was my cousin, a vision in thin, loose-fitting pajama pants and a lacy white tank top. She shuffled into the room, yawning.
“Couldn’t sleep,” I answered. “You too, I guess.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure why, either. Probably has something to do with the dinner for 12 people I’m hosting here tomorrow, huh?”
I was thinking how absolutely unfair it was, the way her fantastically globe-shaped tits pushed that tank top out, the ample bronzed cleavage inviting a head-first dive. It wasn’t just that Jenna didn’t have much in that department. I didn’t miss it at all with her. It was more that these full, natural tits were such an integral part of the womanly curves that made Denise so mysteriously sexy. She had so much trouble with relationships that she seemed almost uncomfortable in this amazing body. One got the impression that the depths of her sexuality hadn’t been successfully tapped into by anyone yet.
“You’re welcome to watch the game with me,” I offered, motioning her to the couch. She slid onto the smaller one, which sat at a 90-degree angle to the one I was on.
“The game?” she said, clearly unimpressed. “You know, I have like 50 movie channels.”
“Yep. I think they start on channel 500 or something.”
I flipped through a few movie channels — League of Their Own, Jaws-something, one of the Lethal Weapon flicks that always seemed to be on, and then — flash — there it was: a medium shot of a naked couple banging away on a pool table.
“Whoa,” I said, lingering on this channel quite a bit longer than the others. I looked over at Denise, who was giving me one of those stern, motherly “you know better than this” looks under her brow. This was roughly the same look she had given me when she walked in on me looking through her father’s girlie magazines a few years back.
It was one of those late night “Skinamax” movies — not hardcore, but certainly more so than the stuff I remembered as a teenager. The guy was lying on his back on top of the pool table, with a well-tanned and toned fake-titted blonde riding him cowgirl style.
I knew I would probably have to change the channel, but I decided to see just how long I could get Denise to watch this.
“Now that’s one bad boob job,” I chuckled.
Denise looked at me. “You’re not really going to watch this, are you Thom?”
“C’mon, Cuz. You’re telling me you have all these channels and you’ve never checked this stuff out?”
The girl on the screen had shifted around to reverse cowgirl. Slow motion close-ups of faces writhing in imitation pleasure followed.
“Ah, no, actually I don’t watch this stuff at all,” she said. “I didn’t even know I got channels like this.”
Close-up of the guys face as he faked a climax. No guy has ever been that expressive while cumming, I would argue. Cut to a morning view of a swimming pool behind an expensive house.
“Watch this,” I told Denise. “The dialogue scenes are the best parts of these movies. The bad acting has to be seen to be believed.”
I turned up the volume a bit. An obviously rich middle-aged woman was talking on the phone while sitting on a lounge chair by her pool. She wasn’t leaving nearly enough time for someone to answer on the other end, and the emotion it looked like she was shooting for, genuine anger, was coming across more like cartoon anger.
“See what I mean?” I asked Denise.
“I see. Anything else on?”
“Just wait a sec,” I answered.
A young brunette with long straight hair in a ponytail and wearing a blue bikini had appeared in the scene. She was apparently about to become the rich lady’s daughter in-law, and was getting an earful about how she should treat her soon to be husband. This bit of thespian-ism was so bad that it even got a titter out of Denise at several points.
Sure enough, the lecture began to turn into a hands-on lesson, and the older woman stood up, letting her robe glide to the ground. Completely naked underneath, she began to show the young girl how to French kiss while helping her out of her bikini top.
I was beginning to be thankful illegal bahis siteleri that I was under a blanket at this point, as I had been absentmindedly rubbing the front of my boxers, underneath which something was starting to respond.
As for Denise, she shifted onto her right side, facing away from me, then grabbed another blanket and spread it over herself.
“It’s cold up here,” she mumbled.
‘Hmmm,’ I thought. ‘Not really.’
“Just like I said,” Denise continued. “Bo-ring. Might as well leave it on now, though. It may be the only thing that’ll put me to sleep tonight.”
Her left eye, the only one I could see, slowly closed, and as I alternated my gaze between my cousin and the TV, her breathing seemed to slow down and deepen, her torso rising and falling under the blanket.
On the screen, the rich blonde lady was lying back onto the lounge again, ordering the young girl, who still had her bikini bottoms on, to kiss and suck the erect nipples atop her large silicone breasts. The brunette was less well endowed, but at least those appeared to be real.
I cautiously slid my hand under my shorts and grasped my exceedingly grateful erection. My hand was ice cold, in sharp contrast to the burning hot skin of my cock, and the combination was exhilarating.
I stole another look over at Denise. The eye was still closed. I decided what the heck, and pulled by hard-on out of my shorts, sliding them down a few inches, and still under the concealment of the blanket.
The brunette had reached crotch level at this point, and was licking for all she was worth, kneeling on the poolside concrete. At least I assumed she was licking; they wouldn’t show her mouth in the close-ups, but her ponytail was sure swinging around a lot, bouncing off the blonde’s inner thighs. As the camera panned back, the girl’s bikini-covered ass filled the screen, and her hands moved up to the side straps and slid the blue fabric down off of her hips.
Apparently this channel had no problem with bare pussy. The sight of first the dark shadow of her anus and then the neatly shaved lips of her wet mound got me stroking in earnest. The blanket had started to slide down, until I had knocked it completely off. I now sat there with cock in hand, totally exposed, and I didn’t care.
That is, until another glance at Denise sent a bolt of panic though my gut. Her left eye was half open; thankfully not looking at me, but at the television.
It was then I noticed something I had missed before: her feet, covered in white ankle socks and sticking out from under the blanket, were moving ever so slightly back and forth. In addition, the slow rise and fall that I had assumed was her breathing was actually her left arm moving back and forth under the blanket.
Well! Not so boring after all, eh?
I fought off the initial instinct to cover myself and just kept going, my eyes on the TV as if I thought Denise was asleep.
The brunette, who I had decided was hot, had stood up and straddled the lounge chair, and had lowered her crotch down on the blonde’s face, and was presumably being eaten out as she stood there. Our view was mostly from behind.
I had just begun to wish I had a few drops of Astroglide when a welcome drop of pre-cum arrived to help moisten the motion, so to speak. The fluid and the rapid combustion of flesh on flesh must have made a small noise, because Denise suddenly turned toward me. I caught the movement out of the corner of my eye, and quickly shut both eyes as if I was involved in my own inner fantasy and no longer needed the TV. I feared Denise’s reaction if she thought I knew she was awake and had jacked off in front of her.
Within a few seconds I assumed I would hear a gasp, a yell, or at least the sound of her getting up off the couch and leaving, but it never came. I heard nothing, in fact.
That meant she just watching me; the girl of my dreams, five feet away, watching me stroke my cock and most likely fondling her pussy at the same time.
I didn’t think it was possible, but my erection actually got harder, until it felt like I was stroking a solid steel pole. My legs were slightly apart, so she must have had full view of my shaft from tip to base as well as my ever-tightening balls.
Faintly, over the moans coming from the TV, I heard a rustling noise from where Denise was sitting, but no canlı bahis siteleri footsteps. I desperately wanted to open my eyes and see what see was up to, but I was still afraid I’d ruin the whole thing if she knew I could see her. She might still get up and leave the room.
The cries of passion and pleasure from the movie were getting louder and more intense, and I was getting close to exploding myself.
‘Now or never,” I thought. I had to see what was going on.
I opened my left eye just a crack. Maybe she wouldn’t notice that much. After the initial blurriness, what I saw almost made me jet my load right then. My cousin had shed the blanket completely and was sitting on the couch with her knees bent up to her chest, her feet flat on top of the couch. Her pajama pants had been pulled down, or up in this case, to her thighs, and she was moving two fingers up and down her bare slit while staring intently at the two writhing forms on the screen. I risked opening both eyes, just as she shifted her gaze to my swollen member being piston pumped by my left hand.
So there we were, both masturbating like fiends as the two women on the screen ate each other’s muffs in a 69 position.
What happened next happened quickly and in a well-remembered order. First I saw Denise bite her lower lip, hard. Then her hand went to her mouth and she wet the two fingers with her saliva. With her hand out of the way I caught the briefest glimpse of wispy thin black pubic hair and wet pink labia before her hand covered her mound again and she inserted both fingers into her pussy.
The second event was the huge and insistent wave of ecstasy that suddenly swept through me, causing me to cum like a long-sleeping geyser, even though it was the second time in just over an hour. A few jets landed on the glass coffee table in front of me and the rest fell on my shirt or dribbled down between my fingers.
After witnessing this, it was Denise’s turn, as her whole body seemed to tense and then shudder, her finger thrusting slowing down and becoming more rhythmic. My cousin getting herself off was such a beautiful sight that I found my gaze drifting from the action between her legs to her angelic face, more relaxed and yet more expressive than I’d seen in years. Her forehead alternately creased and smoothed, her lips parted and closed, moistened by her tongue.
Then the most peculiar thing happened, which I didn’t realize at the time would actually set the stage for the entire next phase of my relationship with my cousin. Just as her body was giving in and she was cumming around her fingers in a rush of erotic chaos, she opened her soft brown eyes, closed them once, and opened them again, this time looking directly at me. In those eyes I saw more than pleasure, more than surprise or fatigue; there was a yearning there, and a silent understanding seemed to pass between us, the meaning of which would take years for us both to fully grasp.
As I sat there in the glow of the twinkling Christmas lights, my sticky cock still in my hand and still hard as a rock, Denise silently pulled up her pajama bottoms, re-covered herself with the blanket, and rolled over, falling almost instantly asleep.
My cun-addled brain tried in vain to process what had just occurred, but several thoughts went on replay:
One, I had just seen my gorgeous cousin naked from the waist down for the first time since we were maybe 2 or 3 years old in the bathtub (my mom still had the video and embarrassed us with it at the occasional family gathering).
Two, the two of us had just mutually masturbated in front of each other, an activity that I was almost positive we’d never be able to talk about, even alone.
And three, this was quite possibly the best Christmas ever, and it wasn’t even Christmas morning yet.
There was no thought of waking her or any further “activity”, so I crept back down the stairs to the room where Jenna was still asleep and crawled in next to her.
“Thom?” she said in a delirium.
“Were you watching porn up there or something? I thought I heard sex.”
“It was just a late night soft core thing, J. Go back to sleep and I’ll tell you about it in the morning.”
Would I though? Could I tell her the whole story or would she get jealous, mostly because she hadn’t been there?
One thing I certainly could and would bring up to her, when the time was right, was the knowledge that my cousin was greatly and secretly turned on by girl on girl porn. Jenna would be thrilled to hear that. Just how I learned that juicy bit of data might have to remain a secret for now.
To Be Continued…
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