Cousin Becy

By the time they graduate from college, most people know what they’re going to do, or at the very least where they’re going. After our graduation, I suddenly realized I had no idea. I can’t go home. Well, ok, I don’t have a home to go to. My parents were killed when I was a kid and I certainly can’t go back to my aunt and uncle’s farm. I was sitting on the bed in my friend Steve’s apartment, helping him pack. And listening to him assert himself; which is easy since no one’s here but me.

“They expect me to come home and join in the family business, but I’m not going.”

I said, “You know, Steve, you know practically everything about me, but I don’t know much about you at all. Well, you know, like your family or anything.”

“My parents own and operate a hotel in northern Minnesota, near the Canadian border. They call it a hotel though it’s more like a lodge. They think I’m going to show up there and just start running the place so they can retire but I’ve got news for them. “

I was sitting there thinking this whole conversation doesn’t make sense to me. Steve’s degree is in graphic design, what does that have to do with operating a hotel? Not knowing how to ask that, I said nothing and just helped him fold clothes that he was stuffing into a bag.

“Well, I wish I had something like that to go home to. I have nowhere to go and no clue what I’m going to do.”

“You could go there in my place.”

That statement just hung there and I thought yeah, right, what do I know about a hotel? My degree is in business management and accounting, and well, ok, the more I thought about it…the idea was forming in my brain. I just said, “What’s it like?”

“Oh, it’s on a chain of lakes and it’s really scenic. Only my parents hate each other and the idea of going back and living in that house gives me the willies. I was glad to get outa there. Here, take this,” He tossed a brochure with a map onto my lap and kept packing. “Give them my regards and if you really want me to, I’ll give them a call and tell them to expect you.”

“Gee, thanks.” I just sat there looking at the brochure and the little idea was starting to make sense. He grabbed his bags and said, “Help me walk these to the car, will you?” I did so, and standing out there on the curb, after throwing his stuff in the car, he just turned and said, “Becky, I’m glad you’re my friend, and I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you, too, Steve. You’re the first real friend I’ve ever had.” He smiled. “Yeah, I know, but don’t sell yourself short, kiddo; you’ll make it, no matter what you decide to do.” He gave me a hug and a quick peck on the cheek and then he was gone. I walked slowly to my car, still looking at this pamphlet in my hand. And back at my place, just thought, well, why not? I have some money saved. I could at the very least go up there and check it out, you know; act like I’m on vacation. I’ve never been on vacation in my life, unless you count coming here to school.

I packed everything I could fit into my car and headed north. It was easy enough to find the place and he was right. Scenic hardly described it, it was really beautiful, and though they call it a hotel, it’s actually a lodge. Walking into the foyer, it gave me the feeling I was walking into a medieval castle. Built of flagstones and good solid wood. I walked to the front desk and was met by a thin, almost severe looking older woman. “I’m Becky Carlton. Steve sent me here saying you could use some help. I have a resume handy.” I was digging into my purse when she said, “Steve sent you? Where is he?” By now she was joined by an older man. “Oh, he’s not coming. He’s on his way to California.”

I suddenly had the distinct impression I was the doomed bearer of bad tidings and would receive the wrath my message incurred. “California?!? But, he’s coming back here!” I didn’t want to argue with her, but he was not coming back here.

“He said he’s headed to Los Angeles and he’ll call you when he gets there. He left two days ago.” I just stood there. They just stood there. The woman took my resume from my hand and said, “Well, I suppose we could use some help in the kitchen.”

“In the kitchen? But I am much more qualified than kitchen work.”

“I’m sorry, that’s the only opening we have at the moment.”

Well, I’d driven all this way and had nowhere else to go so I said, “Ok, I’ll take it.”

She just walked away without another word and the man stuck out his hand and said, “I’m Ben Burke. I’m not really sure where to put you as we’re pretty full this time of year, but I can give you a room on the top floor.”

So, I went to work in the kitchen, lived in a room on the top floor and just resigned myself to do my best. After about a month, Steve’s mother said she was going to Los Angeles herself. And she was gone.

Ben was a quiet older man who never had much to say, but it was really amazing to see the transformation that took place after his wife left. He pulled me out of the kitchen, saying he needed help at the front desk, and as time went by, I ended up dealing with all the personnel matters; Scheduling the staff, payroll, insurance, taxes. Now, this is what I’m trained for and I was entirely comfortable in this role. I watched Ben open up like a flower blooming. He actually had a neat personality hidden under his gruff exterior. He gave me his wife’s old office and the apartment that he’d reserved for Steve. I guess finally admitting to himself Steve isn’t coming back.

I don’t remember exactly when we started having sex……., well, yes. I do. I was sitting on a chair in front of his desk. He’d been explaining the scheduling conflicts which are common. They use local help whenever possible, and he was outlining the approach they’ve been using for years. I was listening to him, I swear, but he was half standing, half sitting on the edge of his desk. And instead of looking at his face, I was looking at his trousers where his cock was on the other side of the material. It looked large enough, but as I was watching, it was growing before my very eyes and part of my brain was wondering how large it really was.

Suddenly he stopped talking and with his index finger under my chin, he lifted my face to look at him and said, “You aren’t even listening to me.”

I said, “Oh, yes, I’m concentrating on every word.” Then in one swift movement, his fingers weren’t under my chin, they were unzipping his trousers. He didn’t have to say anything else, as my hand reached in to find the most massive cock I’ve ever seen. Well, ok, I haven’t seen many, but smiled to myself, and trying to recall when was the last time I had anything that nice in my mouth.

I know some girls don’t like to do this, but I watched my mother sucking my dad’s cock from as early as I can remember, and have always enjoyed it myself. But this was the largest one I’ve seen yet. My small hands barely fit around the base of it, and I was kissing and licking it, making the spiral movements up and down the shaft.

Oh, I pulled him into my mouth, as he exclaimed ‘ohhhh,yes, thata girl’ which made me want to do a really nice job for him. It wasn’t long before his cum was shooting into me. I don’t know whether it had been a long time for him, or if he always had this much, but it seemed to be everywhere at once.

“Becky, that was nice.”

“Yes, it was, Mr. Burke. I haven’t had a chance to do that in some time. And I always enjoy it.”

“Well, we’ll have to make sure you get that little treat more often, won’t we?”