Normal disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons living or dead is coincidental. All persons depicted in sexual acts are at least 18 years of age and consenting adults. This story involves incest. If that's not your thing, then you should stop reading now. Otherwise, enjoy yourself.
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Although I have never been clinically diagnosed, I suffer from a severe social anxiety. I am sure I could take some medicine or see a therapist and that would help, but I really don't want to. I don't mind it usually. I like being by myself. Strangers generally scare me. I'd rather never have to look another person in the eye If I can help it.
My dad was an only child. My mom has just one sister. So, growing up, I only had 2 first cousins. Shelly is 5 years older than I was. Her sister Aimee is three years younger than Shelly, but still older than me by a couple years. They are polar opposites. Shelly is tall and voluptuous, Aimee short and slender. Shelly is a blonde, Aimee a natural brunette (although mom said they never knew what color hair she would have on any given visit these days.) Shelly is the All-American girl-next door type. Full of smiles and dimples and a bubbly personality. Aimee was the tomboy rebel, chopping her hair short and spiking it. Tattooed and sporting a nose ring, with a sharp tongue and a quick wit. As for me? I'm the ultimate nerd, the geek, the dork. I spend my days in front of computer screens. I'm skinny and short and pale with wiry black hair that never seems to look neat, no matter how much I comb it. I have always been extremely shy, and I find my solace in the numerous online games and worlds I poured myself into. As cousins go, the three of us could not be more different.
Shelly was 25 now and marrying her college sweetheart. Aimee, 22, ran away after graduating high school to live with a boyfriend, and ended up a bartender. Me, I run my own IT service, dropping out of college after a semester, because the computer classes they offered had no real relevance to me. I started doing some freelancing for friends and ended up carving out a nice little niche for myself. At 20, I had a career, a nice SUV, and a condo in the big city.
I was heading to Shelly's wedding. I wasn't overly enthused about going, I really don't like crowds, or other people for the most part, but I hadn't seen my family in almost a year, so I agreed. My aunt's family lived in a small town, a couple hours' drive from the city. I packed a bag and tossed it in the back of my SUV to head for the middle of nowhere-ville.
I made it easily and drove to my aunt's house. I wasn't staying there, as Shelly and her bridesmaids were taking over the place. I had made hotel arrangements for myself for the weekend, no minor feat in this small town. I pulled in and greeted my mom and dad, aunt and uncle, and Shelly. She introduced me to a couple of her friends who were there already. I could barely keep my eyes off the floor. Strangers I didn't know were trying to talk to me. I didn't like it at all.
"Stevie, we have a huge favor to ask of you." Shelly said, grabbing me around the shoulders and steering me to the dining room. I hated being called Stevie. "one of David's groomsmen is in the Army Reserves, and his unit just got activated. He had to report to his base last week."
"That's terrible. I'm sorry." I said quietly.
"It is. David has a small family, like ours, and all his other close friends were already involved in the wedding," she smiled at me hopefully. "So... would you do me the favor and stand in as one of the groomsmen?"
"Uh... I really don't know... I mean..." Shelly gave me a pouty lip and a set of puppy-dog eyes. "Sure. I'll do it." I hated the words the second they escaped my lips.
"Oh yay! Thank you so much Stevie! I'm going to go call David now. Your mom can take you to the tuxedo rental place, she knows where it is. The rehearsal is this afternoon at 3 o'clock." Shelly skipped away happily. I, however, was terrified. I hated being in front of people, even as a background character. And I had to wear a tuxedo. I mean, I had a dress shirt and some slacks I planned to wear to the ceremony, but a full tuxedo? Dammit all. Why did I even agree to come?
As if this was all part of some evil plan, my mother rounded the corner on me and hurried me to her car and off to the formal wear place. I endured the typical motherly prying on the way. How was work going? Was I dating anyone? Was I happy? Would she ever have grandkids? I clearly wasn't dating anyone. I told her I was planning on buying a pet turtle, so that would have to suffice as a grandchild for now. She wasn't really thrilled with that answer, but she dropped the subject soon enough.
An hour or so later, I was fitted with a tuxedo that felt 3 sizes too big, but that the saleslady and my mother assured me fit just fine. We headed over to the church for the rehearsal, only to have a black 80's model Camaro cut mom off from the last parking spot in front. As mom swore under her breath, I looked over and watched my cousin Aimee climb out of that car and run into the church, pulling a sweatshirt on over the sports bra she sported. Her hair was spiked still and tinged purple now. I saw what appeared to be a large dragon tattoo wrapping her back disappear as the neon sweatshirt got pulled into place over it.