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Cousin Reappears After 6 Months

Cousin Reappears After 6 Months

by atomica24
19 min read
4.44 (8800 views)
adultfiction
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Thank you for reading my story, I hope that you enjoy it. Love Mica xx, Yorkshire England.

All email comments good or critical welcomed. Please note that all email comments from an invalid email address will be deleted immediately and will not be read, so please take care when entering your email if you want a reply. Rude or abusive comments may result in blocking. Please note that I am a British female, and I write in British English and vernacular, so for me a fanny is the correct term for female genitalia, a pussy is a pet cat and the ass is a bum or arse.

*

My cousin rang and said he was in the area. Well, that was all well and good, but I haven't seen him since he moved to Birmingham with his job, and left us people in Bingley all behind. We kind of thought that he had forgotten about us, mostly because hardly any of us heard anything from him.

I am not in the habit of texting my Aunt and Uncle to see what he is up to, and they are not in the habit of phoning the extended family to tell us. Set up a WhatsApp group I had said, we can all keep each informed I had said. I set up aforementioned WhatsApp group and added everyone I knew in the family to it. Not one single person posted anything. Not once. I even posted Merry Christmas on Christmas Day, nothing.

"So are you going to be around?" Chris asked.

"I might be, have you checked the WhatsApp group?" I asked pithily.

"Don't Carole," he said, "just don't."

I was silent. I would like to see him, we had a load of catching up to do, but, his silence over the past six months had been telling, and I had thought we were close, kissing cousins you might say. It seems I was wrong.

"I want to see you," he said, "I have so much to tell you, not least of which is why I was quiet on Social Media, and I am not doing it over the phone."

"Okay," I finally answered.

"I'll come round in an Uber at seven to pick you up, can you be ready? Saves the Uber waiting is all."

"Okay."

And just like that Chris was back. Was it temporary, was it a flying visit? Who knew, well, obviously Chris did, but few of the rest of us did. None of the gang had heard from him, and to be honest, after about a month he was no longer mentioned. He ghosted us, we called in the ghost busters. No, not really, we simply stopped referencing him in anything.

What to wear? That was the question. I assumed that we would go up town, by up town I meant Bradford. There wasn't much happening in the evening in Bingley apart from pub drinking. There were quite a few pubs and they were usually heaving from around six onwards, but it was all cliques, and none of my crowd would be out tonight.

Either way, up town, or Bingley, the clothing would be the same. I stood naked in front of my wardrobe after I had showered and stared at my array of cheap Chinese frocks. I decided it would be the asymmetric black and white, bits of which were at knicker line and bits of which were a bit lower, sort of mid-thigh. A great dress to go on the pull, but to go out with a cousin who obviously wanted a chat that I hadn't seen for months?

His loss, I would wear it, and if I spent the evening fending off boys, or girls, then so be it. Wireless bra for comfort and micro thong for decency, not that I worried about that, I had gone out without knickers on more than one occasion.

I had shaved the day before, as it happened, so my pubes were smooth, and had also calmed down after having a 'not as sharp as it should be' blade scraped over them. It was payday next week, I would buy a new blade.

Flats, not heels, I had no idea how much walking we would do, and this dress only warranted stockings when it was a girls on the pull night, and as mentioned, tonight was not that, so I did not need the posture for heels. Flat shoes would be much more comfortable. Would we be eating? Heaven, and only Chris, knew.

Teeth cleaned and flossed, EDP dabbed here and there, and I was ready. Front door key, credit card, twenty pounds note, tissues, condom and a tampon all went in my bag. Many a girl carried a tampon and if their pick up got a bit handsy, they could always wave it and say 'sorry, not this week,' it usually worked, not that I have had to resort to that, I am not usually averse to a quick shag, hence the emergency condom.

Seven came and I left the house and stood outside after locking up. I hoped Chris and his Uber wouldn't long, it is January and it is, to say the least, cool in Yorkshire in January. At least the horrendous snow of the New Year had gone. Our bin man had fallen over and broken his hip whilst trying to empty bins, and that was it for three weeks, no bins emptied. No one blamed them.

A car pulled up and Chris shouted out from a rear window, "Come on, time is not waiting."

Idiot, I think he mixed up several metaphors and got them all wrong, I am a woman, I am No Man for a start off. I went to the car and opened the rear door and slid in besides Chris.

"Carry on Driver" he said as if he were Lord of the manor talking to his chauffeur. He had that way about him.

"So then," he said, "how have you been?"

"I have been here Chris, or at work, or in the pub. How have you been?"

"I have been fine, I shall reveal all this evening, but it isn't very exciting. As for me, I am healthy and fine. Do you have a feller?"

"No, not currently, in fact not recently, no one long term anyway."

"What's long term?"

"Longer than a night."

He laughed loudly and squeezed my leg, "that's my girl," he said, "if they don't cut the mustard they don't have any seconds."

Well, it was something like that. I mean I am not a nun; I like a bit of the other but I am not going to tie myself to an average bloke just to experience it. It didn't take long, and the Uber pulled over by the Five Rise Shopping centre in Bingley.

"Come on then, get out, I'll settle with the driver," Chris said.

To be fair, we could have walked here, it is only about half a mile from my house, but there we are, perhaps he had forgotten things like that during his enforced absence from God's own county.

Just down the road was Wetherspoons, I hoped that we weren't going there. I mean it's alright for a cheap meal and a cheap drink, but it is not really an evening out type of place.

He put his arm through mine and we walked on down the high street bypassing 'Spoons, I breathed a mental sigh of relief. "Let's see what's alive," he said as we wandered along looking into pubs.

The Tavern in Market Square looked okay, a few people in, some raucous laughter, but he didn't fancy that. "Perhaps later he said. We wandered a bit further and came to The Potting Shed.

"God, I haven't been here for ages," he said, "come on, let's start here, we can always move on if the atmosphere is dead."

I followed him in and it was quite busy. They had football showing on a screen at one end and there were a load of blokes swinging pints watching that and making the usual noises. It looked like Manchester City. I could never get behind them, if anyone I would follow Leeds United, but I wasn't interested enough in football to want to watch it.

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Chris steered us to a table away from the football crowd. "What do you want then?" He asked.

"Wine?" I said.

"Red or White?" he asked.

"White," I replied and he was gone.

He came back after a few minutes with a bottle of Chardonnay and two glasses.

"We can always get more if you want."

I poured us two glasses and I am a generous pourer and that was over half the bottle gone.

"Are you hungry?" He asked.

"Well, I had no tea," I replied.

"Burger ok?"

I nodded and he was gone to the bar again. He came back after a few minutes with another bottle of wine.

"Saves going up again," he said, "Oh and they don't like having too many bottles out on the tables, just in case it gets a bit tasty I suppose. Burgers ordered."

"Enough of the domestics," I said, "what's been going on with you?"

"Ah well, yes, it is a bit boring. The company I have been working for had some Government hush hush contracts, and it turns out that it was a requirement of employment that you gave them details of all your social media, and then they monitored them."

"Oh, and what was wrong with that?"

"Well a couple of chaps were let go, you know, sacked, for things that they had put on their Twitter account, nothing bad, but enough to get them the old heave ho. So, the rest of us decided that we wouldn't put anything on any social media, that we would go dark."

"And that is it, that is your reason? That is a bit weak."

"Well, the jungle drums start beating and you don't know what is true and what isn't. One of the guys reckons he was being followed for a week, and one of the girls reckoned someone had been in her flat. A lot of it was just imagination I am sure, but I decided to keep my head down. I was getting twelve months money for a six month contract. I rode it out."

"You're right, boring." I wasn't sure I actually believed him if I was honest, I drained the first bottle into our nearly empty glasses and looked at him. He seemed genuine, although with Chris you could never really tell.

The burgers arrived and the empty bottle was taken away, probably to the relief of the bar team. The burger looked good, I was pleased to see it was a regular bun, not the awful soft and sweet brioche thing that so many places foist on us these days. Good size patty, cheese, lettuce, tomato and a gherkin, the standard cheese burger, and a side of fries with a dip of some sort. It actually looked good. Well done The Potting Shed, I might come back just for the burger.

Several mouthfuls later and the appetite I hadn't realised was there was being sated and I slowed down and took a big draft of my wine and looked across at Chris, he was well through his burger and wine too.

"Crikey Chris, when did you last eat?"

"Oh, this morning I think, I kind of forgot."

"We could always have gone to 'Spoons and demolished a couple of curries you know, would have been cheaper."

"Money isn't the issue, there was little atmosphere in there, it was busy, but just flat whilst being noisy."

"Well, if money isn't the issue, throw some my way, I never seem to have enough, and what was with you eying up the waitress? I am pretty sure I used to go to college with her, I am sure she was studying IT or something. Now working in a bar."

"She is pretty, a great figure, what is not to look at."

"God, she is average at best, when the hell did you last get laid?"

"You think? Okay, er, I dunno, a few weeks I think."

"You can do better than her Chris, you deserve better than her. God, I'm better than her and I'm your bloody cousin."

He looked at me and smiled, "off to the bar," he said, "don't let them clear my food, I haven't finished." He took the now empty second bottle with him and worked his way through the increasing crowd to the bar.

I was nearly finished with my burger and only had the fries and dip left. The dip was nice, but my taste buds were on holiday and I couldn't identify it, Aioli perhaps.

Chris returned with another bottle and filled our glasses. God, I realised that I had drunk at least a bottle of wine, but at least I had eaten food.

"So, your last girl, what was she like?"

"Oh crumbs, well, we kind of met in a cafΓ© over laptops when she accidentally drank my coffee."

"Drank your coffee?"

"Yeah, we were both sharing a table, and she kept taking a sip from her coffee only it was mine, not hers, and I laughed, and one thing led to another and we went back to hers and then her clothes fell off, and so did mine, and then we both landed on the bed."

"Yeah, yeah, and your dick fell inside her. I know, happens all the time in Shipley, not so much in Bingley."

"Well, I am not going to give you a blow by blow account of my seduction techniques now am I?"

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"Why not?"

He looked at me and smiled and then tapped the side of his nose and bizarrely he blew me a kiss and squeezed my leg. Gosh, that sent unexpected tremors running through me, a kind of frisson jiggled my sensibilities and made me realise it had been I while since I had been laid myself.

"What about you," he asked, "when did you last dance on the meat pole, or was it taco heaven for you?"

"Oh, the meat pole, been a long time since I went with a girl, and I most certainly am not going to tell you which seduction techniques worked, nor am I going to guide you on which ones didn't."

"Oh does that mean I have to find out for myself which lines will get me past your gates of paradise?"

I smiled coquettishly at him, tilting my head slightly and mentally asked myself why I was flirting with my cousin who I was still kind of mad with for abandoning us for over six months. He squeezed my leg once more, this time a little higher and under my dress.

"Are you moving back up here?" I asked, "has that contract finished?"

"Yes I am, although I can't say much about the work, another Government contract, but based in Leeds, so I will be much closer to home." He paused and looked me in the eyes, "and to you of course," hand even higher, my blood beginning to fizz and I was feeling the effects of the wine, or was it the proximity of his hand? I wasn't sure, I was definitely feeling something.

Someone came and cleared the food plates from our table, I didn't really see who, I was looking at Chris across the top of my nearly empty wine glass. I put my glass down and went to top it, only to realise the bottle had gone, it must have been empty too.

"Come on," I said, "I have a bottle of something at home, we can top up our alcohol stream there."

"Uber or walk?"

"Let's Uber, I am not sure my legs will last all the way."

He squeezed my leg even higher, "they feel fine to me," but he would say that, wouldn't he.

He fiddled with his phone and then said, "Okay, they will be outside in two minutes, already local apparently."

"Let's go then," I said, sliding my upper thigh away from his hand and standing up.

Goodness, was that an earthquake? The room became unsteady as I stood. I held the table to steady myself and then headed to the exit, Chris in tow. As we walked outside a car pulled up with an Uber sticker on the door. Chris checked his phone, "this is ours; you get in first," he said opening a rear door.

I got in and slid across the seat to end up sat behind the driver, Chris got in and shut the door. The driver checked and I said that yes it was my address, and he drove off doing a U Turn on the high street and heading back to mine, Chris leaning against me, his hand on my leg the whole way.

It didn't take long and we were home. Chris got out and then helped me out. There is no elegant way for a girl wearing a dress to get out of a car, and I noticed that Chris made no effort to disguise taking advantage of my inadvertent exposure.

I dug my key out of my handbag and unlocked my reluctant door and we were in. I flicked the light on, and Chris shut the door behind him, slipping his shoes off too. I went into the kitchen and dug out the bottle of Australian Chardonnay from my larder cupboard, cracked the top and grabbed two glasses and poured.

Back in the lounge Chris was sprawled on the sofa, I passed him a glass and sat next to him.

"Good evening," I said clinking his glass, "thank you, it was nice."

"You're welcome," he answered, "and it hasn't finished yet."

No, I didn't suppose it had. I hadn't given any thought to anything beyond getting home and finding the bottle of wine. Chris put his wine down on the side table, took my wine out of my hand and put it next to his.

He placed his palms on my cheeks and turned my head to face his and kissed me, softly at first, his lips barely brushing mine, but as my lips moistened and contact was made, he pressed a little harder, his tongue pressing my lips and a hand, I realised was helping my right breast stay on my chest.

I sunk a little into my sofa, relaxing, my knees parting and my tongue pressing past his as his hand left my breast and slipped own, my hem raising and his fingers finding my knickers.

My blood began to flow and I felt my whole body warm as his finger traced the outline of my crease through my knickers.

I pushed him away, "I need the loo," I said and got up and went to the downstairs loo, door open, I just pulled my knickers down and sat. I looked at my knickers, half on the floor, half around my ankle and shrugged. A quick kick and they were off and gone. I wiped, dear God I was wet, and flushed and washed my hands.

Back in the lounge I sat straddling Chris and kissed him hard on his mouth, feeling his hard dick press into my now naked crease, his zipper a little uncomfortable.

"Let's go upstairs," I said, "your zip is hurting."

I pushed off his lap and checked the front door was locked and headed up my stairs. Chris followed turning off the lights downstairs as he came. In my bedroom I pulled the quilt back and my dress off, dropping it on a chair. I undid my bra and it followed my dress and I got on the bed and watched Chris undress.

His dick looked good, sizeable, not too big, hard and aiming at his chin; he was ready. He came and sat on the bed and then lay next to me, his lips brushing mine, a hand on my right breast, his cock on my hip.

We kissed, my hands on his face, holding him as our lips met and our tongues danced in our mouths. He slid more over to cover me, his dick sliding across my crease, his chest crushing my breasts, and then our mouths parted and he slid down, sucking my left nipple, his finger and thumb tweaking my right nipple.

Down further he went, his tongue in my navel and then at my crease. I gulped, my legs parting wide, my crease gaping, my valley floor exposed as his chin slid along it, parting my fanny lips and then his tongue dabbed at my nubbin, and in that moment I was sober and almost screaming with the pleasures coursing through me.

He pushed it, he pressed it, he dabbed at it, and each touch sent electricity flowing through my body, tickling my toes, hardening my nipples. My buttocks squeezed tight, my sphincter spasmed and my back tightened and I knew I was close.

Fingers circled my entrance, widening my petals, preparing the way for invasion, my fanny pulsed and my breath held in my throat as I gulped, my head splayed back, my throat tight and I almost screamed as two fingers passed my opening and plunged inside me.

I was gulping, sighs of pleasure escaped me, my whole body felt alive, this was more than shagging, it was one thousand per cent ultra pleasure. He pressed my clitoris hard as if trying to bury it inside me, his fingers pressing up from inside my fanny as if trying to take it from within, and then his mouth moved slowly down my valley, his tongue pressing my lips apart, its roughness stimulating as he slid down past my urethra to his fingers, and he licked around my entrance as his fingers shagged me.

I was a mess, I was incoherent with pleasure, I could not move, I could not respond, I had not felt this helpless with pleasure ever before, ever. My mouth was silently opening and closing, my fanny was pulsing, my fingers were squeezing his scalp, my toes digging at my mattress and I could feel tightness grow through my body.

My back arched and only my shoulders and heels touched the mattress, my eyes stared at the ceiling and my electrics fizzed and sparked, my pressures released, and I screamed, oh, how I screamed as my orgasm exploded, erupting through me, my hips bucking, my fanny clamping his fingers, my lungs emptying, and then I collapsed, I became a rag doll, almost lifeless, laying on the bed, Chris's fingers still buried inside me.

He slipped his fingers from my relaxing fanny and sidled up to kiss me, his face wet with my juices, his flavour simply that of me. We kissed and as my senses returned I took his dick in my hand and rolled his foreskin back.

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