Marrying My Cousin

Many times I have read the stories my husband writes about me on this site. Finally, after five years of marriage, today, being our anniversary, I decided to jot down the story of how he conquered me, for all to read.

Not that he was incorrect in his telling, but it is, of course, through his eyes, his emotions. There are always two sides to every coin, and perhaps this coin also deserves polishing and showing.

In a nutshell, although we married late, it’s not as if we had not met before. Because we had. Many years before. And why is that? Simple. We were first cousins. Figuratively, and practically, kissing cousins.

Ever since I can remember, there was always this strange attraction to each other.

From the days when we were young not to know any better, we played doctor together. We learned, explored, asked, and enjoyed each other heartily. I loved touching his little penis, a little acorn which used to get so stiff, while he rubbed his finger up and down my tight cunny, getting me excited without knowing exactly why.

My throat used to dry up and some strange animalistic pleasure would possess me.

Of course, nothing further than that would be experimented upon, and we spent our younger youth years wondering what it was that we were doing to each other.

Going swimming regularly together in secluded rivers meant I would never wear a bathing suit bra or shirt while I had budding breasts. Chris was fascinated by the large nipples which were the first to bud, and his circling fingers on each bump meant they were often hard as nails.

We were pretty inseparable until our parents eventually stopped us spending too much time at each other’s house and in each other’s company when my mum found out that we had gone swimming and my bra top was still at home. It was a shock to our system since we were so close.

Growing up, we met and married others. To cut a long story short, my husband was killed on duty in the first Iraq war, while Chris’s wife left him for some woman she worked with. A lesbian artist or something. Sad. But it was a mercifully swift closure.

As single adults, now over thirty, we grew closer together again. My mother died first, my father not lasting the year after her passing, while Chris’s parents lived on the other side of the city. We rarely saw them. That was fine with us really. Neither he, nor I, got on too well together with them.

I sold my tiny apartment and moved in to mom’s house again.

The house left to me was too big actually. It was a huge sprawling single story building out in the suburbs, with few neighbors around. Well, no neighbors, actually. More out of loneliness than being afraid, I sked Chris whether he would be interested in sharing the place.

There were too many rooms and when I offered him the complete east wing, overlooking the beach we frequented as youngsters, he accepted. His lease for his apartment was due extremely soon, and his landlord had hiked up his rent once again.

The biggest change I would have to overcome was my perchance to go around the house clad only in panties, or at most, a negligee’. I was no longer the slim dancer I once was and had rounded up a bit too much.

My breasts, especially, had grown larger every year, and now I sported a natural 36D bust which admittedly drooped down more than I would have liked it to. Still firm, but with a little sway to them. Strange as it may seem, I enjoyed feeling their movement beneath me as I moved around at home. I worked mostly from home, so on many days, I was content to let the girls go free.

As a divorcee, working as a freelance IT-support, Chris had enough money but was not immune to the perils of renting. He lived a minimalistic life, and his possessions barely filled one of the rooms. His pride and joy was the huge sixty-five inch television which he installed with the entertainment center in what we had christened the tv-room. It was a dining room we had converted into somewhere we could relax.

Realistically, we would have little, if any, visitors, and it was too good a room to leave empty.

My cousin had pulled into the garage on that first November six years ago, all his belongings in the truck, barely filling the back. The TV, the entertainment unit, his game consoles and computers, a smattering of clothes, and his cat, Nibbles. I didn’t really want pets, but when his ginger cat jumped on to my lap and curled up on me, totally trusting, I soon changed my mind.

When we put the clothes in the closet, we had to laugh at how little space they occupied. Like me, Chris too did not need to go anywhere to work, and as he said he mostly worked in boxers and socks, I had to laugh at the incongruity of it all.

We agreed that for conformity’s sake we would wear a t-shirt and shorts.

“Although if you are cool with it, I have no problems with you walking around with your boobs showing.” His reply was typical male. I had to understand him. I don’t suffer this political bullshit thing. I was a girl, I liked guys. He was a guy who liked girls, and thus, boobs. Easy to understand.

The first four weeks were perhaps the strangest days of my life as I had to once more, share a house with another person. With his job, Chris supposedly had to be on call to help people out at odd times of the day. With the time zones the United States employed, it was only natural to keep these hours. He had however joined loose forces with some other guys to distribute their workload according to the time zones. This meant he would generally be done by six in the evening.

Similarly, I worked with an electronics company, specializing in logistics, or box-shifting. Electronic Components supply was no longer a luxury, but a necessity, and my day was spent haggling with the major silicon companies.

It seemed to us that it made sense that we convert a room into an office. Chris was dead nifty with wood and after some trips to our local Ikea, created something I had only dreamed about for so long.

He had shooed me out on the last day, before adding LED strips along the ceiling, behind the desks, and under our monitors, cutting out direct light totally. The eggshell grey ceiling was topped with a gentle curving corniche which deflected the lights laid down behind them, a long low desk on which both our Macbooks stood, two ‘gaming’ chairs in front of each computer, and laminated wood floor paneling.

Movie posters adorned the two walls which did not have windows in them. The room was transformed totally, and I must have gasped as I entered our new ‘office’ for the first time.

I pulled him to me and enveloped Chris in a hug, unmindful that I was just wearing a thin t-shirt, through which, no doubt, he could feel my large, soft, titties. I didn’t care. I enjoyed the sensation of somebody human touching me again after all that time.

So yeah, those first few weeks went by swiftly, working in the mornings until perhaps noon when we stopped for a light lunch, and after a short rest, returned at two, until we called it a day at around six pm.

Pretty soon it was December, and we had grown once again, accustomed to each other’s presence and intimacy. We liked each other a lot, I guess more than was proper. But we were two human beings who had had bad luck in life and were starting to find it a bit lonely at night.

Which is why our eight-o’clock daily appointment in the tv room was sacrosanct to us. We either challenged each other to a chess game, read together, or simply slumped in the overly large sofa, covered with a throw over, to watch soccer (Chris was an avid fan) or the latest movie on Netflix.

We wanted for nothing, and we needed nothing. The house was mine, we were secure financially, and were enjoying the spoils of war, so to speak.

All that we lacked was the nightly companionship in bed. And that included sex, naturally. I was a different woman to most. While most of my colleagues had serious issues with sex, I relished it when my husband was still around. It felt so natural, so joyful, to give yourself completely to your partner with no inhibitions at all.

So it is no surprise to mention that my favorite evening for cooling down was when we watched a movie. We would cuddle up under the light quilt and simply hold each other. Many a day we dozed off in front of the tv, and I would invariably be the one to wake up around midnight, movie long over, and mostly unwatched. Sofas do not make good movie-watching experiences.

I guess this is where it got interesting. Chris was a heavy sleeper, and once he is under, it would need a great undertaking to wake him up. And how do I know? Well, once, it must have been a week before Christmas, I woke up groggily, feeling him slumped against me. His hand was on my breast, just over my flimsy t-shirt, while he snored softly but deeply, dead to the world.

I tried to shake him awake, but it was like trying to animate a brick wall. Meanwhile, my nipple under his hand was growing harder by the second as I continued to think of where it rested. With a show of boldness, I pulled my t-shirt up and over my breast, hissing as I felt his soft warm hand over my exposed booby. My nipple was elongated enough to fit between his fingers and as I moved slowly beneath him, I could feel my sexual instincts kick in.

My left hand moved to my uncovered pussy, pantiless as usual after my shower, and I diddled my clit slowly as I moved his hand over my breast, sending sparks through my nipple, fully distended. It felt heavenly and I had to bite my quivering lip to keep myself from moaning out loud. Horny as I was, it didn’t take me too long to cum, and as I pushed three of my fingers into my sopping pussy, I shivered with delight and passion. I trembled as I came quietly but forcefully, seeing stars as I held my breath against explosive groans.

My feet spasmed with the force of my orgasm, and I rubbed my engorged clit slowly as I came down from such a high. The forbidden nature of this masturbatory session had left me flushed and desiring more.

Chris snored on, blissfully unaware of the wanton thoughts of his slightly younger (but very horny) cousin. His hand was still on my breast, and I took a chance and touched his pj covered penis.

It was big. Not excessively so, but a good size nonetheless. And It was erect. Hard and proud. I wondered about that. I slipped my hand through the opening in the pajamas and sighed as I felt a cock in my hand after so many months.

I thought I would be content with just holding it, feeling new sensations coursing through me, but within a couple of minutes I knew I would not be satisfied, and felt my way around his magnificent manhood. Suddenly he shifted his position, and his hunched over stance changed to one on his back, and his length increased by a good amount. At that time, instantly, I knew I had to have that beautiful tool for myself.

My state of arousal was complete, however I could not bring myself to do anything else while my cousin was asleep. I stood up to go to my room and diddle myself to another orgasm, but not before bending down and slurping his tool in my mouth. It smelt of soap and desire, if desire had a smell…

I had to resist continuing sucking, afraid that he’d wake up. It was very difficult for me to let go of his manhood. I grabbed my mobile phone, took a couple of pictures hoping I would get one with my face in it, and rushed to my room.

My palms were sweaty as I retrieved my trusty vibrator from the top drawer in my dresser. The batteries had just been recharged, and as I threw myself on the bed, allowing my nightdress to move up my thighs, I moved the head to my pussy, slopping wet, and six inches just slipped inside without a hitch.

Moaning at this sudden, sharp intrusion in my happy place, I opened my legs wide and masturbated with the soft vibrator, coming quickly and strongly, my stomach muscles convulsing in orgasm. I jammed the vibrator as far as it would go, then clamped my legs together and turned face downwards on the bed. The purple toy continued humming and I was just content to stay there, gargling in insane pleasure. I came again and again as I imagined my cousin’s tool embedded in my pussy and later violating my ass.

Finally, I opened my legs enough to let the vibrator slip out, and after retrieving it and switching it off, licked it clean, tasting myself on the plastic, then slipped it under my pillow. At that point, fatigue took over and I succumbed to a deep sleep.

I must have overslept as when I awoke, the sun was streaming shafts of light usually unaccustomed to me. I was curled tight on my side, looking at the bedside clock showing ten a.m.

Wow. I’d never slept that much, but probably the intense orgasms I’d had were enough to knock me out. I was still wearing my flimsy night-dress although that was more bunched up around my stomach than around my thighs. I wondered whether Chris had come in check up on me. And if he had, whether he copped an eyeful. It would certainly make things easier, I mused.

No matter, we would resolve this in the only decent solution that would be of best interest to both of us.

Nibbles was asleep next to me, which in a way, shocked me. I knew I had closed the door behind me yesterday, so that meant that either the cat had opened the door on her own, or that Chris had popped in to see whether I was still around.

Stumbling to the bathroom and sitting on the toilet, I unleashed a stream which I had been holding all night. Standing up, and removing my nightdress, I took a leisurely shower, slowly decreasing the temperature until it was nearly completely cold, shriveling up my nipples until they were hard little diamonds.

Five minutes later I was dried and dressed, pouring a coffee in the kitchen. I tried to act all innocent and nonchalant as Chris came into the room for his refill, but there was no denying that he suspected something. I mean waking up in the middle of the night with your cock not where it was supposed to be wasn’t very normal. Neither, I suspect, was probably walking into your cousin’s room seeing her curled up practically naked from the waist down. I wondered whether he had seen my vibrator peeking out from under my pillow.

To his credit, Chris greeted me with his normal hug and a peck on my cheek. I am sure there was no way he could have neglected to notice anything. He was either a very good actor, or just plain dumb. I suspected the former. He had an IQ of over 165 for heck’s sake.

That day was probably one of the most nerve wracking and insecure days of my life. Every time he called me or got up from the chair to get something from the kitchen, I expected him to say something. Lunchtime came and went, and while we talked animatedly, I could sense that he had something deeper to offer than the advantages of mustard as a condiment over ketchup.

I was mentally screaming while we talked. However, nothing was forthcoming, and he retired to his room for his private afternoon time. I wondered whether he would be reading, playing games, or simply whacking off to some bimbo on the internet. Often, I debated entering the room unexpectedly, but that was off limits even to me.

The evening session was a mess of work, and we hardly talked to each other as we busied ourselves with our work. By six-thirty I was done, while Chris held out to another couple of calls for help and was done by seven.

Seeing the lateness of the hour we decided to order take-out Chinese, and I was in the shower when the food arrived. Naturally I was clad in just my nightdress, and as I came down the stairs he looked up at me and held his breath. I wondered what it was, but realized that with the landing light on, he could see right through my clothes.

As I said, I was no longer a spring chicken, and while I had put on weight, I was still sexy enough, or so I thought. I tried to act cool about it and saunter downstairs as if nothing had happened, but as I skipped down the stairs, my breasts swayed under thin dress and ever so sensitive, my nipples hardened once more.

It was impossible for Chris not to see them. Christ, you could hang a shirt on them.

“Anything the matter?” I asked, looking down onto my chest.

“Ah. No. Everything’s fine. More than fine I would say.”

“Brilliant”, I replied. “I see the food is here. Shall we open some wine?”

“Let’s open lots of wine”, he replied.

That was fine with me. I wondered whether I was going to get laid tonight. I hoped so. It had been so long since I had shared my body and my bed with another man. Knowing that it was not only my cousin but my life-long friend only sweetened the deal. I had no idea whether Chris was okay with it, so I let him take the lead.

“Should I wash before we eat?” he asked.

“Didn’t you shower in the afternoon? I can’t imagine you got too much dirt under your fingernails pecking away at a keyboard.”

We laughed, breaking a tension which had obviously started growing from the time I was outlined against the light.

“Hell, I’m clean enough.”

I asked him whether he wanted to take the trays to the TV room, to which he answered yes. He picked a couple of bottles of wine and pretty soon, we were plopped on the sofa with the Chinese takeout spread on the table. I had never managed to overcome my difficulty in using chopsticks, so I made do with a fork.

Ten minutes later we were done, and rather than put away our food trays away in the kitchen, we just moved them out of the way. Kicking back, we just lay entwined there like a happy couple.

My heart was already beating faster than usual at that time. I was sure he had suspected something. In my list I had quite a few of those suspicions. His cock out in the open was perhaps the most blatant.

The cat in my bedroom was another clue I am sure he had not missed. The fact that she had pushed open the door when she came in was another indictment. Naturally, my attire was not what one could consider decent at any time. Considering that he had to pass in front of my room to go downstairs was firmly in my mind. When the answer came though, nothing could prepare me for what gave me away.

He broke the quiet by stating simply “I was cleaning out our joint Google photos account this morning.”

My heart practically stopped beating. Fuck! I had forgotten that. My phone was probably on the shared account, and the photos I had taken were uploaded instantly to our shared photo albums in the cloud.

I could feel the blood leaving my face as I actually blanched.

“I don’t know what to say” I told him. There was no hiding this.

“You don’t have to. I’m cool with it. More than cool actually.”

He opened his phone, worked his way to the Gallery, and handed me the device.

There, outlined in all my glory, was my face with the crown of his cock just beyond my lips. I had a shit-eating grin on my face, a smile to win toothpaste commercials over.

My blood rushed back to my head in one fell swoop, making me quite giddy. I looked at Chris, who was, by that time, smiling widely.

“How long have you been doing this?” he asked.

“About thirty years in my mind, but physically, only once. Yesterday. I don’t know what came over me.”

He hugged me to him. The heat between us was sizzling. I don’t know if it was just now that I realized it, but it was inevitable really. We wore so little it could not be otherwise.

We sat awhile in silence, and I was already starting to have a panic attack before he spoke.

“I can’t wait to go to sleep. I want it to happen again.”

He was smiling broadly, clearly excited at the prospect of it happening again. It was time to throw caution to the wind. He had caught me and was cool with it.

“Well, we can always try it while you’re awake. I’m pretty sure it will be more beneficial to both of us.”

His reply was to cup my face with his arms and pull me to him, kissing me deeply. I nearly fainted with the sensations this produced. My arms went around his head as my mouth opened, accepting his probing tongue.

We kissed for a long time, long enough for me to run out of breath. Most probably due to my delight at the way this was heading. I took hold of Chris’s hands and laid them on my breasts over my shirt, encouraging him to stroke my nipples, threatening to tear the shirt.

His thumbs circled my sensitive tips, and I nearly started purring with the emotion this was conveying.

I raised my shirt and drew Chris in, his lips finding my breasts, as he nuzzled and finally latched on to my right nipple. I simply fell back on to the couch as he sucked and flicked at it with his tongue. I came immediately, a failing of mine, although it sometimes led to prolonged pleasure for the next orgasm.

It was easy for me to just push my hand forward and grab his cock, already half-hard with anticipation. I wanked him slowly, feeling my fingers get forced apart by his girth as I felt it expand even more.

What happened then took me by surprise. Chris just lifted off me and swiftly impaled me in a long thrust. I wailed with emotion as we joined together for the first time in our new found life.

One of my legs I draped over the back of the sofa, while the other was on the floor, and I chose to just close my eyes and take all the sensations as he pummeled me with his tool.

It was orgasm after orgasm for me as I lay quivering beneath him, reduced to a mass of jelly.

This went on for a few minutes before he panted that he was about to cum. I asked him to not come inside me as I had no protection, so he pulled out, making me see stars as his cock head brushed my clit, and I urged him to spurt on my chest.

Copious amounts of sperm shot out of his dick and I smeared it all on my bountiful breasts, relishing the amazing feelings.

Soon he dribbled to a stop and I just pushed him back and sucked his dick clean. It was yummy. I stopped before it became too sensitive for Chris, and I just flopped myself next to him, naked on the sofa.

We kissed again, his hands at my nipples, and mine grasping his cock. Calming down, we must have drifted to sleep. It was around midnight when we woke again, and made our way to my bed, where we made delicious love all through until dawn.

It was just one of the many, many nights of passion we enjoyed. Two harmonious souls finally fitting within each other’s reach. After a couple of days I visited my doctor for protection, which I stuck to religiously.

His orgasms, splashing into me were a sight to behold, and I loved the way he threw his head back as he came.

A couple of months after the start of our relationship, he asked for my hand in marriage, and I simply did not know what to say. I immediately thought it was illegal, and incest, but it was not so.

I did some research for our country and was astonished to find that it was allowed everywhere in Europe. Seems only the USA had hang-ups about it.

We tied the knot in a short ceremony with a few of our closest friends on the twenty-first of March, the first day of spring. Best decision ever.

Five years later, today, we are still madly in love. Our routine has not changed much. He still keeps his room, now filled with arcade machines and game stuff I am not really interested in. From time to time I spend the afternoon with Chris in splendid silence as we read, but we still cherish the couple of hours apart just for relaxing.

After all, we worked from home and were never more than a few meters apart. Our evenings remain similarly interesting, but usually culminating in slow tender love which enriched our lives.

We had decided on no children as we both were not that capable (or willing) parents. Although still young, we had already made a will donating our house and every possession we had to a charity.

That was hopefully still far in the future though, as we continued enjoying our love.

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