The Kissing Cousins

Introduction:
I had not seen my cousin, Fran, in some time so I was eagerly looking forward to visiting her in Ottawa on my vacation. We were born three months apart and were closer than a lot of brothers and sisters I knew. We could tell each other anything without fear of judgment. Even though she was really a second cousin once removed, or something like that, I felt a bit uncomfortable when I realized how physically attracted I was to her.
Fran developed a gorgeous figure as a sixteen-year-old. As little kids, our mothers used to bathe us together; as a teenager, she would grab a t-shirt or towel for cover if I happened by as she was sunbathing in her bathing suit. She had full firm tits, a slim waist and long lithe legs, and the biggest brown eyes I had ever seen. She was the focal point of many a jerk-off session. But that remained a carefully guarded secret.
Fran met me at the train station. The last time I saw her, she was a foxy 22 year-old. Now she was a magnificent 27. She wore a short blue skirt, just tight enough to make me a bit uncomfortable, and an oversized white shirt cinched at the waist with a belt. Her auburn hair was back in a pony tail and she looked very demur in her glasses. Although a stunner, Fran declined to show off her figure too much.
She smiled as she threw her arms around me and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek. I tentatively wrapped my arms around her, afraid I might squeeze to hard for propriety’s sake.
“How are you, Jon?” she asked, as we headed for her car. “Just fine,” I answered, hoping the hard-on she’d just given me would dissipate. “It’s good to see you, Fran.”
“Good to see you, too, Jon. What would you like to do while you’re in town? I have some things you might be interested in,” she said. Was than grin just a bit mischievous or was it just wishful thinking?
“I’d really just like to take it easy,” I responded. “Well, you must be hungry after that trip. Why don’t we go back to the apartment to freshen up and then I’ll take you out to dinner at Barbara’s place.” Barbara had been Fran’s roommate until recently. A pretty redhead, she was the manager at one of the city’s nicer restaurants.
“That sounds good, Fran, although you look pretty fresh to me.” She blushed at that as we loaded her car and drove off.
Fran had a one-bedroom flat on the twenty-third floor of f fancy apartment. The view of downtown Ottawa, with it’s mixture of old and new architecture, was magnificent. I showered and shaved and tossed on some comfy-casual stuff. At an even 6 feet and 170 pounds, I was confident about my appearance, yet I always felt somewhat awkward when we were together.
Fran was changing in the bedroom. “There’s wine in the fridge,” she called from behind the closed door. “Help yourself.”
“What about you?” I asked.
“I’ve got mine, she replied. Fran was not what you would call a good drinker. She got a bit giddy and flirty. In the past I might have been uneasy with that, but for some reason I felt tonight might just be different.
I took my drink and stepped onto the balcony. The late summer’s sun was starting to descend and a warm breeze passed. I turned and there was Fran! She was clad in a pale blue bra and panty set. I felt myself blush and immediately turned my head. I expected her to scream, but apparently she couldn’t see me.
The lingerie accentuated what seemed to be an all-over tan. Her firm tits bulged around the skimpy bra and the panties were cut quite high on the leg, revealing much of her lovely ass. I peeked back at her, feeling my balls twitch, as I watched her adjust her garments. God, what a beauty!
Fran reached for a bottle of lotion and poured some into her hands. She rubbed lightly starting at her ankles and slowly working her way up those stunning legs. As she approached her upper thighs she slowed down and reached for her wine. She threw back a healthy gulp and continued to massage her legs. She kneaded the lotion on her hips and gently on her inner thighs. Her fingers made little circles on her soft skin then moved on to her taut stomach as she closed her eyes. I reached into my trousers to rearrange my cock as she began to gently caress her tits. She unfastened the front clasp of the bra and they tumbled forward, pushing out of their confinement.
Fran dipped her finger into the wine and traced her half- dollar aureoles on each breast. I watched with great appreciation as her nipples became erect before my eyes.
Suddenly, Fran’s hand dropped back to her panties, pulling it aside to reach her now-wet pussy. I was amazed as she bent her neck to suck on one full tit, while her other hand furiously massaged her cunt. I was afraid I’d cum in my pants but kept watching as Fran shuddered her way to a quick climax.
As she came down, Fran calmly rearranged her undies and slid into a knit orange minidress. I almost dropped my wine over the balcony when she called out my name, “Jon, are you ready to go?” Was I!
“Are you okay, you look kind of strange,” Fran said, as I came in from the balcony. I was grateful the trousers were very baggy, thus hiding my still raging hardon.
“That’s some dress,” I told Fran. “You look very pretty tonight.”
“Why, thank you,” she said, somewhat puzzled. We never commented on each other’s appearance after the first “good-to- see-you, you-look-great.” It was hard to believe this angel had cum in front of me not five minutes before. She’d never realize the thrill she’d given me.
We took a cab to the restaurant so we could enjoy a few cold ones and not have to worry about driving back. Although we got a table almost immediately, we waited almost an hour to be served. I didn’t mind, though; the company was wonderful and Barbara kept the drinks coming. By the time the food arrived, we were very relaxed. We spoke of all sorts of things, our lives and interests, and our lack of love interests at the moment.
It was nearly midnight by the time we left. Ottawa is a sleepy town where they roll the streets up at that hour. We tumbled into a cab and headed home.
The smell of Fran’s perfume had been driving me crazy all night. Once inside the cab, she thanked me for a lovely evening. Her head came to rest on my shoulder and she sighed, closing her eyes.
My eyes traced her figure, starting from the spiked heels and slowly up the length of her body, admiring her attributes and wishing I wasn’t such a coward. But we’re so close, I argued with myself. How can I make a pass? She’d be shocked, she’d kill me, she’d never speak to me again — I came up with numerous reasons to keep my hands off. But then she’d nestle in a bit closer and emit another contented sigh and her dress would slid up those damned gorgeous legs just a bit more and I’d have to start reminding myself all over again.
The little old cabbie looked in the rear view mirror and must have thought we were lovers. I saw him smile and wink, as he suggested a nice ride through the park. Why not, I thought. Just to prolong this mild body contact was reason enough.
Fran’s dress had ridden more than half-way up her thigh and I wondered if I should try to rearrange it myself or wake her up. But she seemed so peaceful I just decided to enjoy the show. So stare I did.
“What are you staring at?” she demanded, suddenly awake. She tugged at the hem of her dress, trying to cover herself. It reminded me of her days as a modest teen. She seemed quite agitated. Oh, no, I thought, my worst fears are coming true. “I… I… nothing…” I stammered.
“Jon, I saw you staring at me. What on earth could you have been thinking of?” I could just see myself taking this cab right back to spend the night at the train station.
The driver sensed disharmony and sped to the apartment. Fran got out and stomped her way inside as I paid the fare and reluctantly followed.
I felt like a puppy who had just chewed up the master’s slippers and was waiting for the rolled-up newspaper. Fran was waiting by the elevator, tapping her foot, watching the lift’s indicator as it approached the lobby. Not a word was spoken the entire ride up. When the doors opened she brushed by me to unlock the door. When she didn’t slam it in my face, I took it as a good sign.
I sheepishly entered the apartment. “Close the door,” she huffed. She lock the door and turned to face me. Here we go, I thought. Excommunication from the family.
I couldn’t look her in the eye. “I guess you had too much to drink,” she said. Was she giving me an alibi? “I think I did, too.”
“After all, you’re just a man and there are certain things that a man will do, including ogling his cousin,” she began to grin.
“You’ve always found me attractive, haven’t you, Jon?” Uh- oh, better be careful here.
“Yeah, I guess so,” I answered still not look at here, wishing I were somewhere else.
“Well, you know, I really admire the way you turned out, too. My girlfriends used to talk about you when you came to visit. They’d talk about your arms or your eyes and I’d say, ‘I don’t want to hear this; he’s my cousin.’
“But they were right,” Fran said. She lifted my chin with her finger. “Don’t worry, I’m not mad.” And she kissed me quickly on the lips.
Our eyes met and we leaned into each other for another kiss, this one slower. Then another, deeper. Her tongue probed my lips until I opened them. My tongue met hers as they twirled together in joyful greeting. Caution went out the window.
The kisses became more emphatic as we stepped closer together, pressing our bodies together. ten years of fantasies were coming true as I felt the heat of her tits through our clothing. He nipples were hard as they pushed into my chest. My hands slid down to the small of her back and I tentatively reached for her ass. She moaned softly as a I squeezed her cheek, pulling her closer. I reached for the hem of her dress and slid my hand up her thighs. I couldn’t believe the moist heat coming from her pussy! Fran opened her legs to allow me better access while our lips were still pressed together.
I licked my way down her neck, nipping her nape. She shivered as I bit her earlobe.
“Do it to me, Jon,” she moaned. “I’ve wanted you to fuck me for years. Fuck me now!” Fran ripped open my shirt, the buttons shooting across the room. I kicked off my shoes and yanked off the trousers and shorts. After all this time I wasn’t going to put up any arguments.
We sank onto the living room rug, and I pulled her dress down over her heaving tits while pulling it up from the bottom. I ripped the panties and bra off her as she squirmed beneath me. My dick was threatening to break off.
I rubbed the tip of my cock along her slit. I had never imagined Fran’s pussy before, concentrating on her other assets. It was covered with a soft tuft of hair gently concealing her plump lips. She groaned and arched her back as she tried to get me inside her, but I continued to tease her.
“Stop that, please. Just fuck me. NOW!” She grabbed my as and pulled me right in. So hot, slick and tight. Unbelievable!
After a couple of minutes I felt the inevitable rush of cum. I warned her and she blurted out that it was okay, that she wanted to feel me pump it inside her. So I did. Long hard streams of cum jetted through me into her. She ground her pussy against me, grabbing my ass, working towards her own climax. “Uhh, uhh, uhhhhhhhhh,” she moaned as she rumbled towards ecstasy.
I was beat but happy. She was beat and hungry for more.
“I always wondered what it would be like with you, Jon,” Fran whispered, “and it was better than I ever imagined.”
With that she kissed my chest softly as she made her way down my stomach, swirling her tongue in little circles. I shivered when I felt her hot breath on my dick, waiting to feel her lips engulf it. She licked my crown lick a candy cane, in and out, lick, in and out, around. It was like no other blow job I’d experienced, so hot, wet and slippery. I could have happily filled her mouth but I had waited a long time for this.
I gently pushed her away and rolled her over. She seemed surprised. I straddled her chest and told her “I’m gonna fuck your breasts, Fran. I want to feel your soft tits wrapped around my cock. I want to rock back and forth until I cum all over your tits and face. What do you think of that, baby?”
“Oh, yeah,” she groaned, “do that to me! Please! Do it!”
“I want you to lick the head as it comes through your tit- tunnel. Keep it slick so it slides back and forth so nicely.”
Fran pressed her tits together around my cock. They were so soft and hot, wet with a combination of sweat and saliva. I went slowly at first, trying to make the indescribable pleasure last.
“I love getting my tits fucked,” she moaned. “It gets me so hot. Come on, push it, slide it in. I want your cum, cum all over my face, please. COME ON, GIVE IT TO ME, CUM, CUMMM, DO IT! DO IT!! DO IT!!! SHOOT IT ALL OVER ME!! OH, MY GODDDDD. DO IT NOW!!!” And with that she started shaking and bucking her hips against an imaginary cock. Her fingers flew to her sopping pussy where they pistoned in and out. I grabbed her tits and squeezed them around my dick. I pushed it forward and kept it in her mouth while she moaned to here next set of orgasms. The vibrations of her mouth set me off, and I managed to shove my cock back between her tits as I started to spurt, the hot load jetting onto her pretty face, as she whipped her head back and forth, landing first one cheek then the other. I sprayed my last violent shots across her tits and collapsed next to her, exhausted.
After a few moments to catch our breath, Fran turned to me. “Are you sure you can only stay the weekend?” she asked with a smile.

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