I Can't Believe It's Not Incest!

Yeah, it all started out as any other day. My story begins at a party in a ghetto many of you should pray you'll never know. A slum so foul, so filthy, so Middle Ages-esque, that you'd better pray you'll never so much as dream of it. I'm talking, of course, about Beverly Hills. It all started a long time ago - this morning. I awoke to a ringing adjacent to my rather comfortable bed, and with a lazy motion of the arm followed by my incredibly groggy voice I answered the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey, what's up, buddy," said the voice at the other end.

"Sleep!!" I roared angrily.

"Sleep good for me! Sleep enjoy I! Wish for sleep do I!" There was a brief silence. "Okay, listen, Calvin," the voice continued. "There's gonna be a hot party tonight. Very hot. So many bitches you'll cream in your pants."

"Okay.."

"Yeah. Be down at my house pronto."

Click.

I knew, of course, that it was my obnoxious friend Ben on the phone. I slowly got up, threw some clothes on, and walked outside. I walked over to the house next to mine and knocked fervently. Ben answered.

"Hey, buddy!" He let me in. I collapsed on a chair in front of the doorway, which seemed to have been placed there for this reason. "Do you have any idea what time it is?!" I asked.

"Yeah, it's almost two in the afternoon," he responded.

"Oh," I said daftly. I think I fell asleep again, because suddenly the windows displayed a much darker sky and Ben was in a nicer shirt with a tie. His slacks matched. I tried to meet his neatness by slipping the crust off of my torn up jeans, but apparently it didn't work too well.

"Come on," he urged me. "Let's go." We then exited the house and walked across the street to where the party was being held. It wasn't until we saw the girl who opened the door when we knocked that I totally woke up.

"Hi," she smiled, looking at me. Her gorgeous eyes of bright, oh what's a good color...green, seemed to burn a hole into my forehead. This didn't worry me until I felt the blood spilling down my face. She rushed to get a towel to help clean my face And when she came back she applied pressure to my forehead to stop the bleeding. "I'm sorry," she told me. seem to have that effect on men." I looked around the room to see every man in the place with a hole in their forehead. Damn, she was hot. "So," I said, trying not to look too hard at her, "you up to anything at the moment?"

"Not really. Were you suggesting that we go fuck?" I was a bit startled. "No, but uh.." She looked at me sternly. "Yeah," I admitted. She grabbed my hand and we walked down the hall. There was a room on each side for a good fifty meters, and every room housed sex. You name it, this house had it. Finally, we reached a room at the end of the hall that was empty. When we got into the room, she sat on the bed facing me and pulled out my cock. And pulled and pulled and pulled. She fainted. When she came to, she uttered, "Your cock is....gargantuan..."

Yes, I know that sixteen flaccid inches is plenty to brag about, but I never find the time to. She tried sticking as much of it as she could in her mouth but I still had a good nine inches out. The harder I got, the more difficult it was for her to blow me and the less penis I had in her mouth. Finally I think we both just said the hell with it and she laid flat on her back, waiting for me. "Be gentle," she told me sweetly, playing with her long blonde hair.

"Of course, honey," I told her in an equally kind tone. With that, I forced my entire erect twenty one inch shaft into her, and she screamed louder than any other thing I've ever heard before. In fact, had I not seen her screaming myself, I would have thought that no human throat could make that sound. She could have been in such immense pain for several reasons. It could have been my extraordinary size. It could have been the fact that she was totally dry. Maybe it was because she was a virgin. Or it could have been all of the above. I know I heard a couple of cracks, and her terrible screaming made me soften quickly.

"Damn, you are such a tease," I muttered. I pulled out and lied next to her.

"So, what was your name anyway?" I asked.

"Shirley.." she barely managed out. I thought about this.

"What's your last name?" I asked her again. By this time her milk white legs were entirely crimson with her blood.

"Frank," she whispered in the utmost threshold of pain.

My eyes widened, my suspicions confirmed. "You're my cousin!" I shrieked. She sighed. "Oh great. I feel better now. I have lost at least three ribs, my virginity, and the pain I feel is almost enough to match giving birth. On top of all that, my cousin caused this. Beautiful."

I tried to get to the bathroom to vomit, but I figured it was too far, so I just moved over and puked on her face. After I wiped my mouth with her godlike hair, I got up and walked out.

"You should see a doctor," I told her. With that I smuggled out a bottle of Jack Daniels and went home. I was so disgusted I downed the whole bottle in three swigs and fell asleep.