The Cottage by lookin2please
True Story, Consensual Sex, erotica, Incest, hesitation

Cam shivered as the hot weewee stop flowing. Quickly, he shot his arm out past the cascade curtain and reached for the first grubby-looking, brownish towel he could find oneself, pulling it towards him. The towel felt crusty and hard as he rubbed it against his skin, almost as if it had never been washed. He smiled regardless - he had the bungalow to himself this afternoon.

Exhausted after helping his founder ramp up a deck for the retiring three twenty-four hours, Cam convinced everyone to leave alone him behind on their shopping stumble into townsfolk, claiming a rest was in rescript. He jumped into the shower consequence before they left, eagerly fantasizing about how he would spend the rest of the afternoon reading under the hot sun.

Having tolerated the towel scratching him for long enough, Cam snapped back the shower mantle.

Panic struck him violently - his eyes never felt so wide in his skull.

Standing just beyond the shower bath curtain was Emily.

In an instant he tried to breed his moistness, naked body with the embarrassment of a towel he was furiously clutching in his helping hand - but succeeded only in slipping on the wet shower flooring, sending his towel flying whimsically in front of him, and both his hands shooting down in a clumsy travail to conceal his genitalia.

Emily's cute, tiny, oval expression turned red as she blushed. Her crystal green eyes fixated on what lay behind his hands. Cam could severalise by her slight, rose-coloured lips slipping into a sly grin that she caught a peek.

getting ahold of himself, slightly, Cam managed to save one hand in front man of his humanity as he lunged forward to take hold of the towel. Promptly, wrapping it around himself, he stepped out of the shower onto the old, moist rug in front line of him.

Just a foot from the shower opening, Emily didn't budge.

The bungalow had just one bathroom. It was not a great deal larger than a water closet, but there was enough room for a toilet, sink and rain shower. There was even a window tucked inside of the shower kiosk, just high enough that you would only be able-bodied to see someone's head from the outside looking in. Normally, Cam felt cramped in there, right now he felt near claustrophobic.

"What are you doing in here ? !"Cam asked anxiously.

Emily, rooted to the floor where she stood, just looked up at him.

Despite looking like one of the onetime, Emily was his untested cousin, having just graduated high up school day. She was a gorgeous Whitney Young woman - tall, gymnastic yet slender build, with a high hip-flare that accentuated her svelte curved shape through the second joint and bum, bronzed skin, those crystal green eye, sun kissed light-brown hair and the most attentive c-cup white meat - all contained within a red lounge suit polkadot bikini.

"Emily - you can't be in here."Cam's flavour was prosaic. If anyone else was there, he was in big trouble.

After a few more moments of silence, Emily spoke softly, nervously,"I… I wanted to see it."

He wasn't sure why, but in his head he knew exactly what she was talking about. A new wave of anxiousness rushed over him. He felt it in his loins.

"Emily, you can't just come wandering into the bathroom and try to see someone's penis - you're old enough to know that isn't how it works."He sounded like a founding father scolding a young youngster.

She looked down to the flooring, rubor growing on her impertinence, letdown obvious on her face.

"flavour,"Cam continued,"mortal is going to notice you're in here, and I will get in slews of fuss if they do and I don't bitch you out. So can you please tread out ? We can let the cat out of the bag more once I'm dressed."

He flashed Emily a nervous, yet reassuring smile. He had been where she was before, overcome with sexual urges and finding yourself doing irrational things. A quick memory, of him watching his own auntie in an outside shower while on vacation in Italy, flashed across his mind.

"Ok."Emily sounded despondent.

In a 1 motion, head still facing the floor, she spun around and drearily strode out the threshold.

Relieved, Cam closed the door and leaned up against it, taking Malcolm stock of himself. In all the commotion he didn't notice that his tool had become hard.

After finishing his post-shower turn, Cam emerged from the bathroom, towel firmly secure around his shank. Before entering his bedroom he did a prompt survey of the cottage. It didn't seem like anyone else was there - no cars in the private road, no one out back, no one on the deck of cards. Emily must've found an excuse for staying back, he concluded, perhaps she pretended to be sick.

With no foretoken of anyone else, or Emily, he strode confidently into his bedroom and closed the door. The way was minuscule, just big enough for a nance bed to fit in the middle with two tiny end table on either position, nearly touching the bulwark. There was a big window on the right-hand slope, some mental picture of waterscape on the bulwark and a diminished wardrobe in the left quoin. Despite the glorious sun shining in through the slim curtains, it smelt mouldy - the humid air doing its work to the linens. Cam threw himself onto the bed - it made a rather loud squeaking noise as he landed - and threw away his towel.

He couldn't shake the image of Emily, standing there half-naked, from his mind. He had always found his full cousin attractive, and definitely noticed her staring at him as she grew older. She had caught him, to a greater extent than a few times, returning the favour during this recent cottage trip. He couldn't help himself, she kept walking around in that bikini - showing off her house, bronzed body - he was only a man after all.

He knew it was unseasonable, but he kept thinking to himself that in that moment, he could've done anything he wanted to that miss - touch her, buss her, strip her, even fuck her. His turncock grew hard as these thoughts danced through his head. Maybe it was the fact that he and his wife were in a tiff, and haven't had sex in weeks, but he couldn't contain himself ; Cam quickly checked to make sure the room access was closed and wrapped a hand around his cock.

He couldn't have been stroking himself for Thomas More than a hour or two when he felt someone else climb onto the bed. Cam didn't have to unfold his eyes to know it was Emily. But he did anyways, and was greeted by the like young fair sex from the bath, this fourth dimension completely bare. Her laborious mammilla caressed his skin as she pulled herself up his breast, stopping as she came to stare directly into his eyes. He could sense her heat against the capitulum of his cock.

"I'm sorry,"she whispered, perhaps trying to hold back bust,"I can't help myself."

Cam was paralyzed - he couldn't figure out his next move. He was horny, he wanted to fuck this girl ; but he was married, this was his cousin - and his wife, along with everyone else, could be home any secondment.

But Christ, he thought as he shot a glimpse down, she was beautiful. Her buoyant boob showed the tan stemma from their bikini top, her articulatio coxae and crotch the tan contrast from her bottoms. Her slit, barely in view, appeared to be sparsely covered with light-brown pubic hair.

With a trembling hand she reached down and touched his thigh, passing her hand up to the base of his tool. It was the most careful and delicate of cutaneous senses, like a gentle susurration against his hide. Her fingers met his, still firmly gripping his cock. Reluctantly, he pulled his bridge player away. The bed groaned as he shifted his weight.

She wrapped her fingerbreadth around his penis, feeling its warmth against her laurel wreath, a quick smile flashing across her face - she had never touched one before. Cam responded by flexing his hips upward, instinctively. Her finespun touch drove him wild. Emily began to stroke his cock with her handwriting, then, with slightly more confidence, brought her other hand to join in.

Cam was lost in go. He placed his hand on her soft, smooth skin and pulled at her shoulder, motioning her to turn over so her bum was in melodic phrase with his face. Without Good Book she obliged, still stroking his putz. Once in front of him, Cam parted her legs slightly and pushed his fingers into her pussy.

It was the taut pussy he had ever felt. Luckily, it was dripping wet, otherwise he was sealed that he would've been unable to fit more than the tip of his fingerbreadth into her - but he managed to throw two in.

Emily couldn't take it. She threw her straits back, squinted, and began to groan - loudly, her mouth open wide - her body squeezing down hard on his fingers, her hips thrusting forward involuntarily.

Unable to sharpen, she released his cock.

"It… it tickles…"she panted.

With a force that surprised even him, Cam used his release script to catch Emily by the back of the cervix and pushed her spread out mouth down onto his hammer. He was possessed by lust - he didn't care who could come walking through that door - he was taking this young lady right here, right now.

She gagged on his dick. He pulled her back up. She spat out spit, her brass and center now red. He just looked at her. She nodded feverishly, not bothering to await back at him - she knew what he wanted, what she wanted. He pushed her back down on his dock. Her throat gave way momentarily, but she began to cough violently once again. He pulled her off of his cock and, hired man still gripping her pilus, pulled her head towards his.

She came eagerly. He threw her, gently, onto her rachis and climbed on top of her. Looking into her eyes, he lined his tool up to her pussy, feeling the tingling sensation of her pubic hairs touching his tip.

She was heaving. Her pocket-size tit moving up and down with each breather. Her eyes looked directly into his. She spread her branch wider for him and nodded definitively - she wanted this.

Cam pushed himself into Emily.

It was the tightest pussy he had ever fucked. It felt like a vice grip was around his cock, gripping it fiercely as he began to motion in and out. He looked down to see her opening stretched to it's content - her clit spread across the cinch of his penis. This drove him wild - forcing his intensity to develop. Emily bit a nearby pillow and arched her back.

Cam steadily built speed, feeling her kitty slowly adjusting to accommodate his dick. In no meter, he felt her neck. Shortly thereafter, he lost her - she was a squirming mess of moan, moan and farsighted tree branch wrapping themselves around him. He began to fuck her furiously.

Cam pounded her, lifting her off of the bed with his powerful thrusts into her. The sound of slapping material body grew to its apex. The smell of perspiration and sex filling the elbow room.

Then, he felt it building inside of him. For a brief moment he thought about pulling out, about doing the aright thing, but he was lost to this moment, to his fleshly desires. He already crossed the line, why stop there.

With a final knife thrust, he pushed himself as far into Emily as he could. Her eyes burst open. Her arms and ramification wrapped around him - locking him into piazza.

looking at boot, her expression turned to a confused look as he came inside her, it was clearly the first time anyone had done that to her. She could palpate his putz spurting sperm into her previously vestal womb.

As the two unlikely fan fell back onto the itchy bedsheets behind them, both smiling stupidly, Cam heard the unmistakable sound of a door end downstairs.

"Emily ? ! ? ! Are you feeling better dearest ?"

Cherie, his aunt - Emily's mother - was coming up the stairs .