My cousin Cindy came to live with us for three weeks when she was eighteen. She was going to go to college in Chicago, about twenty miles from where we lived. Since her parents, my mother's sister and her husband, lived on a ranch in Montana, they thought she should have some time to get used to the city before the semester started.
The last time I'd seen her was when she was fourteen. I was just beginning to notice girls then, and she was pretty skinny. We got along ok, but she really didn't make that much of an impression. When she arrived at our house at eighteen the story was completely different. She was a tall girl, just a little above average weight for her size, full lipped, and long haired. She had dark eyebrows and large brown eyes that seemed always ready to smile. Her breasts were a little small for her proportions, but since she was a big girl, they were noticeable enough, and certainly noticed by me.
Of course, she was my cousin, and so not a potential girlfriend. I didn't ask myself whether I thought she was pretty, but I did look at her with what I considered an objective eye, and asked what my friends might think of her. It didn't take me long to answer that they would think she was a very pretty girl, and expected that if any of them saw her, I'd be in for some teasing about whether I was managing to keep my hands off her.
Cindy liked music and jokes and wasn't at all stuck up. We were strangers enough to be polite to each other, and as the days passed, we got to be good friends. Maybe she could tell that I wasn't coming on to her, and that made her feel relaxed and like it was ok to hang out with me. As I said, I was thinking of her as family, so I wasn't trying to impress her. In fact, I don't think I'd have started to think of her in any other way if it hadn't been for a couple of lucky accidents.
The first was a Saturday morning after she'd been at our house for almost a week. Saturday was laundry day at our house, and since there was no laundry chute, my mother used to pile dirty clothes in the upstairs hallway before taking them to the basement for washing. Cindy had added her laundry to the pile, and I was going to add some of my own, when I noticed a pair of panties with butterflies on them. I'd never seen any like that on the pile before, so it was obvious they were Cindy's. At the moment when I was in the hallway, I heard Cindy and my mother talking downstairs, and it came to me that I would have plenty of time to take a sniff and return them to the pile just as they were. I picked them up, turned the crotch outward, and held them to my nose. I could not believe it. They smelled delicious. Not at all like urine, not stale, but infused with an earthy, organic odor that immediately started to make me get hard. I thought that Cindy must have just taken them off, that maybe only ten minutes ago this fabric had been nestled up against Cindy's pussy. It's not as if I had been thinking about her pussy all along, but of course I knew she had one, and now I knew that it was a very sexy smelling one. I wondered if it was very hairy, and I wondered how her thighs would look near where her pussy was.
A change in the sound of the voices alerted me to the need to put Cindy's panties back in their place on the laundry pile, and just for good measure, I made sure that my own laundry covered them up. I went back to my room a different boy, because now I could not get the thought of Cindy underneath her clothes out of my mind. I'd seen her calves and her knees and her feet all bare, but now I tried to imagine her thighs and her belly and what her tits would look like if I could seen them when she wasn't wearing anything on top. I didn't believe I would ever see these things, and I had no plan to make it happen, but I thought about it a lot, and I realized that whenever I did, I'd start to swell up and feel very horny.
That summer, I was working two part time jobs, one at a lunch place and the other at the dinner rush at a different restaurant. I rode my bike to work and it wasn't worth coming home between jobs, so usually I just hung out at one place or the other for the hour in between. But one afternoon, a coworker at the second job was going to leave, and I went home in between to get my camera. When I got home, I burst in the door and shouted "Hello". There was no answer, and I thought that no one was home. I raced upstairs, and when I got to my room I saw the door just down the hall – the one to Cindy's room – just closing, which I thought was strange, especially as she had not answered my "Hello". I didn't stop to ask her what she was doing, though; I was in a hurry and just went to my closet to get the camera. I don't know exactly what made me think of my little stash of porn mags, but I pulled aside my very carefully arranged pile of junk to check on them.
Even before I got to them, I realized that the stuff they were behind was not as I'd left it and, sure enough, the magazine on top was not the one I'd left on top. Then it all fell into place – Cindy must have been in my room just now when I came in. She must have found my stash and been looking at the porn, and beat a hasty retreat when she heard me. She didn't dare answer my greeting, because she thought I'd realize she was in my room.
I felt invaded and I was angry, but I really had to get back on my bike and show up for my second job. So, I didn't react then – but I did say "Bye, Cindy" so she'd know I knew she was home. Let her wonder, I thought, whether I'd discovered her little secret or not. She didn't come out of her room, but she did say "Bye" as I headed down the stairs.
Of course, I spent the rest of the day thinking about Cindy. Yes, I was annoyed. She probably figured I looked at those mags while I masturbated, which was true. I thought she must know that everybody did that, but still, it felt embarrassing to imagine her thinking of me in particular as looking at those very pictures and pleasuring myself. On the other hand, it made me horny to think of her looking at them and to wonder whether she had gotten aroused. Maybe she had even put her hand down her pants. And, too, I felt that in some way she owed me something, and I wondered if I could turn that somehow to my advantage.
When I got home from work, everyone was still up, watching TV. I looked at Cindy to see what kind of reaction I'd get, but I couldn't tell whether she was avoiding my eyes or whether she was just interested in what was on the tube. After a while, though, my parents went to bed and, as usual, Cindy and I sat around watching Jay Leno and talking during the commercials. Now, I got the definite feeling that she was more quiet than usual, and didn't look at me very directly, as if she were waiting to see whether I'd say something about her little exploration into my room.
I finally got up my nerve and asked her if she'd enjoyed the pictures.
"What pictures?" she said.
"The ones you found while you were snooping in my room."
"Oh, Jim," she gushed, "I'm so sorry about that. I know I shouldn't have gone into your room when you weren't there."
"Why did you?"
"Well, your Mom was out, and I was feeling very horny, and I figured what with you being a normal guy, you'd probably have some porn stashed away. I knew it was wrong, but I just kept wondering what you might have and I thought it'd be ok since you'd never know, and the next thing I knew I was in your room. I'd just found what I was looking for, you know, when I heard you burst in the door. I was hoping you hadn't noticed, since you left so soon."
"So, did you go back and satisfy yourself?"
