My Cousin’s Insatiability

*All characters involved in sex scenes are 18 or above. Comments and feedback are welcomed. *

I listened lazily to the radio, hoping for something interesting on the AM/FM wavelengths but it’s all the same shit. News radio keeps talking of some coup in a country I couldn’t find on a map, music radio puts on song I don’t want to listen to, and the talk shows are talking politics which no one gives a damn about. Bored, I just switched off the radio and watched the Florida countryside flowing by as I drove for my uncle’s hometown.

While I have seen beach fronts before, I’ve never seen much trees and greenery in one place. My hometown of New York City isn’t known for being filled with trees, just concrete skyscrapers and buildings. If there was green, only Central Park and the rich had them. And New York’s beaches were just stormy shores and grey sand while down south, the beaches were whiter and bluer.

If I had a choice, I might come down here for vacation. It wasn’t by choice though, just necessity. It was necessary for me to move to Florida from New York in order to get a job. New York had plenty of jobs to come around but they always open and close in the blink of an eye. Just searching for an open one was difficult enough as it is but catching it before multiple other people was another matter. And with more people coming to the Big Apple for opportunities, the competition was heating up and I just couldn’t compete anymore.

My parents weren’t happy about it either, their eldest son with a business degree having no job was unacceptable. Dad always got on my case of being a freeloader and Mom kept worrying about feeding me and my two younger siblings. They weren’t poor by any means but a twenty-four-year-old like me with no job is a disgrace in their eyes. I would flip burgers at a diner just to have a job, but my parents wouldn’t have none of it.

A day came, during a family dinner, when my parents for the umpteenth time were railing me on not having a job or supposed lack of trying to find one. Out of impulse, I angrily told my dad, “Maybe if you were out there trying to find a job you like, you get why I can’t find one!”

That was either a brilliant move or the dumbest. Dad took up my challenge and asked around for any openings for his unemployed son. A lot of it was small-time, none of those Dad wanted for me and, like I have said, were already gone. Then he asked around my family, my retired grandpa if he had any connections left from his time in real estate or my engineer uncles in Texas and California. They all had squat.

Except one, Uncle Tim living in Florida, running a hotel in a tourist hotspot. He doesn’t run those big-shot resorts you see in commercials, just a modest hotel for customers who don’t want to pay too much cash to relax on vacation trips. Haven’t seen him, my aunt, or my cousins in years, not since I left for state college after high school.

So, this was the first time I’m seeing my uncle and his family. I’m almost ashamed that I get to see Tim only to ask him for a job, but Dad said my uncle was more than happy to take me under his wing for his business. At this point, I neither care nor have any choice. If it gets me a job and my parents off my back, I’ll do it.

 

…

 

I turned on my GPS, punched in the address Dad gave me on my uncle’s hotel and followed the directions the robotic voice gave me. It led me past downtown, past the high-scale condo glass buildings with their own pools and view of the beach front and into the suburbs full of beach houses and more humbler hotels close to the coastline.

Seeing Florida’s beaches, it was definitely nothing like New York’s beaches at all. With its white sand, palm trees and blue water, it was almost like those beach pictures on postcards. Young guys my age was either jogging on the sidewalks, jogging in place only when the traffic light was green, riding bikes or eating food from local restaurants.

And the girls were a sight to see. Some of them were arm in arm with another man, assumingly their boyfriends. Others were jogging alongside their male joggers. But they were all wearing clothes that showed more skin, like shorts and tank tops, than girls in New York City, who have to put on more layers of clothing because of the weather, even during the summer. And on the beaches, girls in bikinis were laying down on their towels, most of them on their stomachs and showing their asses. Already I was liking trading New York for Florida if I get to see more of that

I kept driving past hotels, shops and water parks, following the directions the GPS gave me until it told me the destination was at the next right.

I turned right to see a waterfront hotel, three stories high with white-railed balconies and lounge chairs for every room. A boardwalk with chairs and tables covered one half the hotel building facing the ocean while wooden stairs on the other half led down to the white beach and blue waves below. For me, a city boy, this place didn’t look half bad at all, especially with the gorgeous view of the waterfront before it.

I parked my car and walked into the lobby, then stopped in my tracks when I saw the front desk attendant.

She was about 5′-4″, with dirty blonde hair falling in curls to her shoulders. Piercing pale blue cat-like eyes on a cute face and a kissable mouth. She was wearing a turquoise collared shirt with the hotel name stenciled on the chest. While I couldn’t see them under the shirt, her breasts were straining hard against the fabric of her uniform, forming a pair of large bulges on her chest.

Whoa, was the only thought I could comprehend. Suddenly, I was having my own bulge between my legs, my cock springing to life at the sight of her. I gritted my teeth with a forceful will and put on a tight smile before walking up to counter.

“Hello, welcome to Seashore Resort Lodge,” the attendant said with a welcoming tone and smile. “Checking in? New in town?”

“No and yes. I’m looking for the owner of the hotel,” I asked, trying to ignore my hardening manhood.

The attendant cocked her head. “Who is asking?”

“Will. I’m…uh… the owner’s nephew. Uncle Tim’s nephew.”

The attendant pursed her lips. “Alright. One moment, please.” She disappeared into the back. Less than a minute passed before the attendant reappeared with my uncle.

Uncle Tim didn’t change much the last time I saw him. A hulk of a man, he was about my height, a couple inches over six feet, with broad shoulders and a chin that seemed chiseled out of stone. He kept his dark hair short and his beard trimmed, now peppered liberally with grey. He was as strong as ever when he came around the counter and gripped my hand in a firm handshake.

“How you doing, Will?” he greeted in a booming voice. “My God, you’ve grown bigger last time I saw you. You were skinnier than a pageant queen.”

I cracked a wide, proud smile. It was true. Back in high school, my muscles were just noodle arms until Uncle Tim convinced me to start exercising to make them bigger. Throughout my college years, any free time I had was spent pumping iron or beasting it up to the point where I was straining my shirts because of my new jacked-up muscles.

Now broad-shouldered with a strong jawline, dark hair and hazel eyes, people regularly compared me to those movie stars that play the villains or badass heroes. Especially girls.

“Well, I followed your advice and here I am,” I said.

“Let me see your muscles, boy.” I lift up my arm and rolled back my sleeves to show them off. “Goddamn, your Aunt Belinda will be surprised for sure.”

“Yeah. I’m sure she would. How’s everyone?”

Tim wagged a finger at me. “You don’t recognize your own cousin?”

I opened my mouth to answer, “What? I haven’t seen Gr-,” until I saw the attendant smiling, stifling a laugh at me. My eyes widened in surprise. “Grace?”

“Hi Will. Long time, no see,” she said, putting a hand over her mouth to hide her laughing.

I stood there like a stump, stunned with disbelief that this bombshell of a girl was family. Last time I saw her, she was just a scrawny middle-schooler who was more interested in begging a phone from Uncle Tim. Now she’s this hottest piece of ass, totally not who I expected to see after all these years.

“Yes, my name is Grace, thank you and hold your applause,” Grace said sarcastically.

“Uh…Hi Grace,” I forced out. “You…changed a lot.”

Grace shrugged. “Eh. I guess.”

“How’s…” The words were difficult to put together when I felt my face burning up with embarrassment. Or lust. Desperate to change the subject, I asked, “How’s Shawn and Tristian?” They were Grace’s little brothers, a couple of years apart and were wearing diapers last time I saw them. Today, they must be about more than a quarter of Grace’s age.

“They’re good, thanks,” Grace replied dismissively.

“Come on in,” Tim said. “I got some work to do first. And then we’ll talk about what to do with you here.” He put an arm around my shoulders to pull me away around the counter and into his office. I glanced back once to see Grace walking back to the front desk, to see her bubbly ass beneath her khaki pants that looks close to stretching.

I gritted my teeth. Stop it, you fuck. That’s so wrong.

 

…

 

“Look how tall and handsome you’ve grown!” Aunt Belinda exclaimed, her arms attempting to hug me as tight as possible, but my height and girth made it impossible.

Aunt Belinda, for a woman in her late forties, she looked instead to be in her early thirties, a beautiful, older version of Grace with all of the good looks.

“Hi Aunt Belinda,” I breathed out when she let go. I smelled the smoky air. “Mm. Smells good. Cooking barbeque?”

“Yes sir, I am,” Belinda replied.

I smiled, and despite trying otherwise, was thinking how Belinda’s upbeat personality reminded me a lot of Grace.

Two little boys were playing soccer in the grass, one kicking the ball and the other trying to block the ball from getting into the imaginary goal.

“Shawn! Tristian!” Belinda called. “Say hello to your cousin, Will, kids!”

The two boys gave shy waves and said a weak “Hi” before quickly returning back to their soccer game.

“Did you bring your things inside the house?” asked Belinda.

“Tim and Grace say they take care of that.”

“Come on over then. Relax.”

Belinda led me to the patio, where an expensive grill was crowded with food of all kinds. Corn, steaks, sausages, and peppers were roasting nicely, the smoky aroma smelling delicious. Guiltily, my mouth was watering at the sight. I moved closer to get a better look, but Belinda nudged me away, taking my arm and pulling towards a picnic table covered with a checkered tablecloth.

Tim came out with a case of beer in hand. “When’s the food ready, woman? We’re starving!”

Belinda wagged her tongs at her husband. “Keep that attitude up, and you’ll go to bed on an empty stomach. Did I say bed? I mean the couch.”

Tim handed me a cold can of beer. We both popped our cans open and Tim drank his nearly halfway as I sipped mine. While Belinda flipped the meat, coated it in barbeque sauce with a brush and drop slices of butter atop the corn and peppers, Tim spent the time talking my ear off on my life in New York City. How’s my dad, my mom and my brothers? Ever been to the Empire State Building? What’s the Statue of Liberty or Times Square like? How’s the cost of living in New York?

“Grace!” Belinda called when she was done cooking. “Can you bring the plates and forks?”

“Coming, coming! I already got it!” Grace called back out. She came out carrying plates and utensils, wearing a pair of sports shorts and a white t-shirt to accommodate in this hot, humid Floridian air. With her tongs, Belinda piled up the food on tin foil pans and carried them to the table. Shawn and Tristian scrambled to the table when their mom called. Tim sat at one end of the table, Belinda and her little sons sat together on one side and Grace sat next to me on the other.

Tim and I immediately grabbed whatever food we could reach. A pile of meat sat on our plates while Grace ate more modestly, eating food one at a time while Belinda took care of Shawn and Tristian. The steak was juicy, the ribs falling off the bones, the sausages seared with grilled marks just the way I liked it.

Belinda hammered me with her own questions on college and life while Tim ate ravenously. On the other hand, Grace sat next to me, her leg resting atop her bare thigh, eating and making small talk as if it were nothing. Usually she just comments in between conversations, but most of the time, she says little, only throwing me shy glances and little smiles. My heart was pounding at the sight of my hot eighteen-year-old cousin sitting so close me, enough for skin contact. I squeezed my legs together, deathly afraid my manhood would be acting up, hoping to the heavens above she doesn’t notice if it does.

“Did you meet any girls in college, Will?” Belinda asked at one point.

Butter was dripping down my chin as I bit down on the corn cob. I wiped it off with the back of my hand to answer. “Yeah. Why?”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Not really,” I replied. “I was too busy with school to have one.” That was only half true. While I was focused on school, I wasn’t looking for any meaningful relationship with any girl. It’s not that I do not want to, but, to me, relationships sounded too vanilla. Flowers and hearts did not sit right with me. Hot and heavy does, though. Which was why whenever I’m with a girl, it was either at a party sharing drinks and bed sheets or an innocent flirtation turned into downright fucking.

“Really?” Belinda said in disbelief. “Why not? You’re old enough to date. You should be seeing someone special. You don’t want to be alone.”

Tim waved a dismissive hand. “Leave him, honey. He’s a big boy, he can make his own decisions on whom he sees or not.”

Belinda frowned in disapproval. “I didn’t hear you say that when Grace brought boys home.”

“Mom!” Grace exclaimed, blushing bright red.

I couldn’t keep myself from snickering until Grace prodded me sharply with her elbow.

“You had boyfriends?” I asked inquiringly, rubbing my side.

“No!” Grace shrieked. “Those were my friends’, not mine. I wasn’t looking for any and I’m not going to before college.”

“That’s right, dear,” Tim lectured. “You need to focus on school and get your education, set up your life.”

“Or set up with someone special,” Belinda chimed in.

“Mom!” Grace shrieked again.

The pans were emptied, and our stomachs were full. I offered to help with cleaning up, but Belinda would have none of it. “You’re our guest. This is our treat for you, for today anyway.” She turned to her sons. “Kids, help me with the dishes.” Shawn and Tristian childishly pouted at her but obediently took the empty plates inside.

I cleared my throat. “So…uh…where will I sleep in the house?”

Grace nudged me with her elbow. “In my room.”

I stared at her dumbfounded. “In your room?”

Grace made a face. “Yes, my room. I’m speaking perfect English here.”

“Couldn’t I sleep in your brothers’ room?”

Belinda answered for her. “No, you cannot. The boys don’t know you yet and they need their sleep. If you’re in their rooms, they might not sleep because a stranger is in there with them.”

“How about the living room?” I asked. I did not want to sleep near Grace. The last thing I wanted was to share a room with her where she changes her clothes and underwear.

Tim shook his head. “No can do. You can’t sleep on the couch or you might ruin the leather. And the floor is hardwood so if you want to wake up with a backache every day, go right ahead.”

Grace looked impatient. “Don’t worry. I don’t bite.”

My mouth drew to a tight line, anxious at the dilemma unfairly put before me. Then I mumbled, “All right, fine.”

Tim nodded. “Wonderful. Grace, help bring his luggage from the living room.”

“Okay, Dad,” Grace said, gesturing at me to follow. “Let’s go roommate.”

I silently groaned.

I followed Grace inside the house. My luggage was left standing in the living room when I tried to grab it, but Grace beat me to it. “Let me,” she offered. It was heavy but Grace made the strenuous effort to bring it upstairs with all of its weight. For once, I allowed the temptation to get the better of me and stared at Grace’s sauntering ass, shaking each time my cousin jerked my luggage up the stairs until we reached the top of the stairs.

Dammit.

Grace led the way, dragging my luggage on its wheels until she stopped at the door and opened it for me to enter. The room was the typical bedroom layout with a wall of shelves lined with books and disc cases, a desk littered with pencils and papers, and a HD TV on a white stand. But there was also a drawer with an oval mirror and what looked to be a makeup box sitting idly on top. Framed pictures lined the walls of girls smiling giddily on the camera, with Grace being one of them.

I looked at the floor. “At least you have carpet.”

Grace waved a hand at the ground. “You can sleep wherever you want on the floor. We have a sleeping bag, some spare pillows and blankets, in storage if you want it. But the bed is mine.”

I sighed. “Your room, your rules.”

Grace grinned. “Good. Bathroom is down the hall. There’s only one so it’s first come, first serve. Shawn and Tristian’s rooms are next to my parents’ room – they just use their bathroom instead. I’m the only one who uses it.” Grace paused. “Well, not anymore.”

“Well, your room smells better than my old college dorm,” I commented. “My old roommate in college was disgusting. He smelled and kept littering our room with his crap.”

Grace laughed. “If you need anything, just ask my mom, my dad or me, we’ll take care of it.” She walked toward the door and stopped to turn around and say, “Welcome to your new home,” before sauntering off.

 

…

 

In a couple of months, I had settled in my routine working at my new life with my extended family. Days as Uncle Tim’s new employee at his hotel were simple, almost dull but I wasn’t complaining as long as my uncle reported back to my parents that I had a job.

Whatever Uncle Tim needed, I’m there to help. There were other employees who helped do those kinds of things, but I at least made things go along faster. In exchange, I get paid, a roof over my head and food in my stomach. Not a bad deal, considering this is my first real job after college.

At my uncle’s house, the days were just as simple. I wake up, use the bathroom, eat breakfast Belinda and Grace makes for everyone and leave with Grace to work at the hotel. Go home, I eat dinner with my extended family, brush my teeth and go to sleep in my new room with Grace, either falling asleep quickly or pretending not to notice Grace tiptoeing around me.

Being around Grace was a challenge. The sight of my curvaceous cousin was enough to make my heart beat faster. Every time I looked at her, I try to focus more on her lovely face and not her ass or tits that I admittedly fantasize about grabbing onto. How can I not when she’s wearing clothes showing off her legs, tight shorts squeezing her ass, or tank tops giving hints of her cleavage?

But there were other times when it was more.

The first time was during the weekend when Grace and I usually had our day-offs from working at Tim’s hotel. Because there was nothing else to do during on weekends, I was playing video games with Shawn and Tristian when my aunt Belinda called out, “Will! Can you come here a sec?”

“Ah man,” I groaned, setting my controller on the table. “You guys win.” My cousins gave me big grins at this, and I left them haggling which player character they want to be.

When I walked outside, my aunt was standing out in the backyard, next to a large garbage bag of wet leaves and twigs and a ladder leaning against the house. I looked up and saw Grace standing on the top rungs of the ladder, holding on to a bucket with dirty, gloved hands, wearing a white tank top, jean shorts, and sandals, her legs bare for the world to see.

“Can you help with something?” Belinda asked.

“What is it?”

“I need you to help Grace clean the gutters. I have to run to the market before traffic gets heavy. I have stuff to buy for dinner tonight before your uncle gets home from work.”

I shrugged. “Alright. What do I need to do?”

“Keep this steady,” Belinda patted the ladder. “And make sure Grace doesn’t fall off. I’ll be right back, kids.”

Belinda disappeared into the house and Grace rolled her eyes. “It’s not that hard,” Grace said. “Just hold the ladder, okay?”

Nearby, I can hear the sound of a car warming up, Belinda getting ready to leave. “Yes, boss,” I replied to Grace. She smiled and dug her gloved hands into the gutters.

It was during noon when the sun was high in the cloudless sky, which meant the temperature was next to scorching. I only had to hold the ladder, either standing or sitting on the bottom rungs, using my weight to keep it down to earth, but I was already sweating beneath my burning shirt. Even though I told myself not to, I often glanced up at Grace working, straight up at her smooth thighs and legs, wondering how her ass would feel in my hands. Every time I did, I quickly turned away, cursing myself for having such perverted thoughts I bare for other girls, but I have no right having on my own cousin.

“God, it’s hot,” Grace complained, flapping the collar of her shirt to create some breeze. “Will, the bucket’s full. Can you dump it in the bag for me?”

“Alright.” I got off the ladder and raised my arms up for Grace to hand me the bucket. She climbed halfway down the ladder and reached out her arm to place the bucket in my hands. When suddenly the ladder started leaning to the side and Grace’s eyes widened in panic.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!” she shrieked, losing her balance as the leader tipped farther to the side.

“Shit, shit!” I cursed, holding my arms up, not to grab the bucket but to catch Grace as she had to jump off the tumbling ladder, right into my arms.

We both breathed a sigh of relief and it took me a moment to realize that my forearm was pressing hard against her clothed ass cheeks. The sweat perspired on her skin was creating an opaque but seeable look of what’s beneath her thin, white shirt. I blinked rapidly, wondering if I was imagining her showing off her tits and areoles.

She’s not wearing a fucking bra?

I quickly composed myself and set Grace down on shaky legs. She beat a fist against her chest, taking deep breaths. “Thanks,” she said breathlessly.

I nodded, looking towards her, though not at her, just the wall past her head. “You good?”

She nodded back, peeled her gloves off and handed them to me. “I think you should go up. You’re heavier than me.”

“Fine by me,” I agreed. Mostly because I wanted an excuse to not look straight into her eyes, or ass.

The second time, I was collecting my dirty clothes and stuffing them into my personal wash basket my aunt gave me for the laundry. It had been a couple weeks before I bothered to wash my own laundry after I nearly ran out of clothes to wear. Belinda usually took care of that, but she wasn’t around at that time. She had taken her sons to the community pool to swim and play. She said she would be back but I didn’t want to wait any longer.

I took my basket to the laundry room and stopped when I caught the sight of Grace.

She must’ve gotten done with her daily workout from the gym, because she was sweaty all over. Her sports bra gave out a good show of her cleavage, cut off at the middle to reveal her well-toned midriff. Her sports shorts couldn’t possibly be shorts – might as well be panties — from the way it gave hints of her ass beneath the fabric. Her blonde hair, which she usually wears down, looked unkempt in a mess of tangles and twirls. I would be surprised if that outfit didn’t drive men at the gym crazy.

It was certainly driving me crazy. I cleared my throat and Grace turned to me. “Can you help with the laundry?” I asked. “I don’t know how to use the washer and dryer.”

“Sure thing.” Grace took the basket from my hands and set it on the floor.

She walked me through on how to use the washer, what knobs to turn to whatever settings I want. What buttons to push to start it up. Then she showed me how much detergent and softener to use. It was high up on the shelf above the washer, so she had to stand on her tiptoes to grab them. Her body and clothes stretched in a way that got me breathing faster and my manhood twitching.

She was struggling to get the detergent and softener, even on her tiptoes, so I offered my help. “Here.” I moved behind her and reached my arm up to easily take the handles of the detergent and the softener. My mouth was so close to Grace’s face, I stopped breathing to not let her feel my breath against her cheek. What I couldn’t stopped was my hard erection, with just its head, pressing against one of her ass cheeks. It lasted for seconds. To me, it felt like eternity, and, guiltily, I didn’t want it to end.

“Thanks,” she said gratefully, taking the bottles from me and proceeded to show the proper amount of both detergent and softener for the washer. She poured it in, shut the lid down and pressed the button, and the washer rumbled to life.

“There!” Grace said. “Easy, right?”

“Uh-huh,” I replied, my eyes casted down before I made an excuse to disappear away with my tormenting erection along.

The third time was when I woke up one morning, stretching my arms and yawning a big yawn, heading towards the bathroom when I heard the water running. It could only be Grace being the first at the showers. My uncle always woke and left early to manage his hotel and my aunt had to take care of his sons to school. I stopped when I saw that the door was ajar just slightly enough to see Grace, fully naked, washing herself in the shower.

My first instinct was to look away. What kind of decency would I be showing if I didn’t? But I couldn’t and was unable to, suddenly enraptured at the sight of Grace rubbing shampoo over her melon shaped tits and smooth thighs. This was the first time I got a clear look at her tits, without any shirt or piece of fabric blocking the way. Now that I do, I could only guess it was double D size breasts and I was amazed on how it seemed to defy gravity and how her hard nipples were poking out of the areoles.

One of her soapy hands slipped into the crevices between her tits while another went below to her crotch, between her legs. At that moment, I so wished those hands were my hands, cleaning and fondling her soft body for her.

As if on cue, my boner was poking through my shorts. The strain was killing me, and, having a unbearable need to relieve the sexual tension, I had to pull down my pants. The intense heat my rod radiated in the palm of my hand burned, hotter than it ever was, even when I was with other girls. I was leaning against the wall, keeping myself steady as I was jerking like a piston, turned on at the taboo voyeurism I was committing against Grace.

The way she looked showering, her honey hair disheveled and wet, rubbing her soapy hands all over her body got me thinking of walking straight in there, stripping down and fucking my cousin against the shower wall. But I held off, the small voice of reason in my head telling me not to do it. It’s simply wrong.

That didn’t stop me from bursting my load in the middle of the hallway. I was so pent up with lust, I was cannon blasting semen until mounds of white jizz was dripping off the wall. I gritted my teeth to keep myself groaning too loud from climaxing and started breathing again when I emptied my load.

My eyes widened, lust dissipating from my mind.

Shit! My cum was painted on the wall! What if my uncle or aunt sees it, or worse, Grace?! I ran down the stairs to the kitchen to grab a roll of paper towels. I walked back up the stairs, taking three steps at a time and used the ripped-out paper to wipe my load off the walls. My hands were full of hot, sticky paper towels when the wall was cleaned, except for a slight liquidly sheen my cum left behind but I was certain no one would put two and two together.

I ran back down to the kitchen, dumped the handful of wet towels as deep into the trash bin as I can and stumbled back upstairs in time to see Grace coming out of the bathroom in yoga shorts and a t-shirt, her hair still wet from the shower.

“Done?” I asked, trying to keep my voice normal to not let her see how out of breath I was.

“Done,” Grace said. “It’s all yours.” She slipped past me, her bare arm brushing against mine. I had to smother my urge to push her against the wall and pull her shorts down.

The fourth time, I was watching TV, flipping listlessly through the channels. Most of them were kids’ channels, probably for Shawn and Tristian, and any other were just not interesting. My uncle and aunt took the kids to see the dentist and get their teeth clean while Grace had left, “To see her friends,” she said. I’m all alone in this house.

I gave up looking through the channels. Instead, I got up and walked to Grace’s room to rummaged through my luggage for my laptop to watch streaming videos instead. When I entered, I saw that Grace’s own laptop was wide open.

And on its screen was a paused video of a man wrapping his hand around a woman’s throat. While he was fucking her doggy-style anally.

What the hell? I stood in disbelief, my mind deciding on whether to look the other way or let my curiosity wandered. My curiosity won out and I looked down the hallway to see if the coast was clear, even though I was the only one in the house, before closing the door behind me.

I pulled up a chair behind Grace’s desk. The porn video was paused until I clicked play. The man was pounding the woman relentlessly, even as she was screaming in a mixture of pain and pleasure, while choking her throat and cupping her humongous tits.

“Tell me, tell me!” the man demanded.

“I love it!” the woman begged. “Just destroy my fucking hole you beast! Yes! YES! It hurts but it feels so fucking good! Treat me like the slutty bitch that I am!”

The man twisted her head around to kiss her, giving her a mouthful of his tongue, not slowing down one bit. On the contrary, he was just going faster.

This was blowing my mind. Grace, in possession of a porn video, especially a hardcore porn video. Guys I know would have this sort of stuff. Hell, some girls I had fun with use videos to give themselves satisfaction but Grace was the last person I thought would watch these.

If she had this sort of video, what else did she had?

The question bounced in my head and I clicked to exit the video. What I saw astounded me. There were folders of all kinds of videos labeled accordingly. The video I found was in the folder labeled Anal. Other folders were of other categories, such as Threesomes, Deepthroat, Squirting, Gangbangs, Rape – the list just goes on.

I clicked through some of these videos, watching girls in every position and situation possible. Milf women being jackhammered anally against the walls. Petite girls my age getting reamed in their asses, only to be orgasming from their cunts. Sluts screaming as cocks of all sizes slammed against their every holes. Spanked, tied, abused, degraded and enjoying every moment of it with every cock presented to them.

This what gets Grace off?

“What are you doing?”

I fell off the chair and dropped to the floor. I looked up at Grace standing in the open doorway, hands on her hips. But her face was not of admonishment or anger of me looking through her private things. It was something else.

“Uh…I…” I stammered. I didn’t know what to say or do. Apologize? In normal circumstances, I would but this was not normal. I had just found out my cousin’s secret side and my cousin had just found out that I found out her secret side.

In answer, Grace walked up to the desk to close her laptop. “Were you watching my videos?” she asked. Strangely, there was no irritation in her voice when there should have been.

I stood on my feet but kept my eyes down at my feet, suddenly bashful after getting caught red-handed. I tried to leave but Grace grabbed my sleeve.

“Did you like it?”

My eyes snapped up to see on her face if this was a serious question or not. “What?” I asked, dumbfounded, pulling my arm away.

Grace cocked her head at me, clasped her hand behind her back to push her chest, and her tits, out at me. “Did you like those videos?”

I rubbed my neck. “Well…no…”

Grace tsked at me disapprovingly. “You’re a shitty liar Will.” She took a step towards me and I took a step away from her. “You do like it. Why? Have you ever done it to other girls?”

I hesitated to answer. The simple truth was I had been rough with other girls, hammering my hot rod into their sopping cunts while they moan and beg for more. The few who didn’t like it, I never sought out again. But how can I explain that to my cousin?

I couldn’t really. So instead, I just remained silent.

Grace smiled, taking my silence for an answer. “Slapping? Choking? Degrading? Calling them mean names?” She cocked her head at me. “Is that how you think of me? Just some poor girl for you to take?”

I didn’t bother to answer. Nor did I step back any further when Grace stepped closer to me. Desire and rationality were at war in my mind.

“I never…well…never had a cock before,” she said, biting her lower lip. “I watched them on videos, but I never held one. Or sucked on one.” Her cheeks blushed bright red. I was feeling heat rise up to my face, lust building up at the sound of my cousin voice such indecent thoughts out loud.

Her hand touched my hard chest, tracing a finger along my chest. “I like to know what it’s like. Can I see it?”

But I was already shaking my head. “We can’t Grace. We…”

Grace gave me puppy eyes. “You don’t think I’m sexy?”

“No!” I argued. “Well, yes, you are good looking and all…”

“Good looking?” she said, disappointment clear in her voice. “That’s all you can say?” She turned towards the door, closed it and locked it. Then she turned to me, took off her t-shirt, revealing her massive jugs glaring at my face in full view. She wiggled out of her sports shorts, her bobs jiggling side by side as she slipped out of her shorts, showing her very thin light blue thong beneath. I blinked rapidly, wondering if this was a dream or not. Here was Grace, my own cousin, standing in her panties before me and offering her voluptuous body to me, just like that.

“Is this sexy now?” Grace asked. “Am I good enough for you?”

“What the hell’s gotten into you? Just find some other guy, not me!” I said the words, but my tone was unconvincing.

And Grace knew it. “I don’t want some other guy. I want you.” She took a step forward. “And I know you want me. I’ve seen the way you look at me, stripping me with your eyes. You think I didn’t notice?”

I swallowed. “Grace, this is wrong. We’re cousins and Uncle Tim will kill me if he ever finds out.”

Grace frowned. “No?” She pointed to my crotch. “Your big friend suggests otherwise.” She walked closer to me until she’s at arm’s distance, tugging at my shirt. “Let me help you with that, Will.”

“Grace. We can’t do this. We-,” I started.

But Grace put a finger to my lips, shushing me. She wrapped her arms around my neck and reached her mouth up to whisper to my ear. “It’s okay. I won’t tell Mom or Dad.” Her hand reached to my pants, rubbing at the growing bulge beneath. “Please, Will. Do I really have to say it? Don’t make me beg for it. Teach me about sex. I want you for my first time. I want you to treat me like a whore, just like the videos. But I want it to be real for me. And I want it to be as rough as possible.”

She moved her lips to press against mine…

…until I grabbed Grace’s ass, pulling her in closer. Grace’s gasp was muffled in my mouth. We kissed passionately, pent-up lust finally exploding after weeks of horny anticipation.

I pushed her body against the wall and grabbed her throat to break our kiss and stared hungrily down at her. “Is this what you want, huh?” I told her, rationality fleeing from me faster than a fighter jet. “Is this how rough you want me to be?” Without warning, I smacked one of her tits with a hard slap.

She yelped in surprise. But I wasn’t finished. I slapped her other tit, harder.

“Will-,” she began as her titty flesh turned pink.

I applied more pressure around her throat. “I’m not stopping now. I’m just getting started. You asked, I’m giving it to you. You wanted to be just like those whores in the videos, right?”

When she didn’t answer, I slapped her breasts again for a response. “Right? Is this how rough you wanted? Is this rough enough for you?”

She nodded frantically, finally giving her consent. I shoved her down so her eyes were at level with my crotch and pushed my sweatpants down to pull out my rock hard cock.

Grace’s eyes widened in wonder. “Oh Will,” she said softly. “It’s so big.” The word ‘big’ was an understatement. Close to ten inches long with the thickness of a bottle, pre-cum leaking and bulging veins, I could tell from Grace’s expression she was having second thoughts of letting this monster inside of her.

And I wasn’t going to let her back out. I slapped the head of my dick against her cheeks, letting her breath in the aroma of my meat. “Choke on my cock, slut,” I commanded her.

She hesitated but ultimately obeyed my order. Unsure at first, she grabbed my shaft in her soft hands, reveling at how hard, yet hot my rod was in her palm. She stroked it several times, then let out her tongue to lick the head of my dick. She shuddered at the taste but continued to lick up and down the shaft, the tip of her tongue tracing alongside the pulsing veins. When she reached to the bottom, she lapped on my balls and sucked on those orbs as if they were candy lollipops while stroking my cock.

And she wasn’t done yet. Her lips kissed its way up my shaft until they’re kissing the head of my dick. In one motion, she stuffed a good amount of my cock straight into her mouth, maybe about seven inches. She took it little by little; the walls of her mouth being stretched to its limits by the hard thickness, but she didn’t let that discourage her and relaxed her throat to get more inches in. We reached heaven when all ten inches of my dick was fully inside her throat, her mouth pressed against my crotch. She looked up at me with watery, begging eyes, smiling with a big, fat meat in her mouth.

I groaned softly. For someone who claimed this was her first time handling a cock, she was quickly turning into a blowjob expert, likely thanks to all those porn videos.

She bobbed her head up and down, her lips going up to the first couple of inches and then slamming the rest inside her skull, over and over again. She gagged and coughed but kept going, spit and saliva leaking from the corners of her mouth and dripping onto her slutty tits. Her usually composed and silky hair quickly turned disheveled and messy, giving her a wild beauty to her degradation. Through all this, she tried her best to keep her eyes looking at me, begging for more.

I wasn’t going to disappoint her either. I grabbed handfuls of her hair and hump my hips forward until I was fucking her throat as if it were another pussy of another whore. Her hands reached up grab onto something but I slapped her cock-filled mouth, saying, “Don’t. Keep those behind you.” She obeyed and clasped her hands around her back while I continued to ravage her throat. I could feel myself hitting the back of her throat with each thrust, her coughs and gags growing more violent but she doesn’t stop me. I would have kept going even if she tried.

And kept going I did, until I was at my limit of cumming. I quickly pulled out, not wanting to end this blissful dream too early when it was just going to get better. Grace gasped desperately for air and coughed uncontrollably until she straightened herself up and smiled at me with spit-covered lips.