My cousin in France recently graduated secondary school with excellent grades, and as part of an agreement with her parents; she would get to spend a summer in the California with me so that she could experience the United States. My aunt and uncle had made arrangements with me in advance so that Jenifer, my cousin, could stay with me. I haven't seen her in almost ten years and since she is eighteen now it won't seem like I am babysitting. Jeni had let me know that she took a flight that would arrive late in the evening because it was less expensive. It wasn't a problem. I enjoyed sitting in public places people watching.
At the airport terminal I noticed several attractive young ladies sitting close to me. They were laughing and giggling while chatting about their future lives in college. One of them in particular stood out from the crowd. She wasn't the most attractive but she had "it." "It," being that thing in a woman that makes you just want to grab her fuck her for all that you are worth. There is no description for it. It is just It, and she definitely had it.
It is definitely that time of year where high school graduates begin traveling to their university of choice. Wow, I miss being young. It was the time of my life and I miss it greatly. The friendships, the carefree days of endless bliss, even the drama. It seems so easy now that I look back on it. I just wished I had been a little "cooler" in those days. I didn't date much in high school because I was a bit shy and awkward. It took a while for me to grow out of it and I didn't experience my first woman until I was 23. She was 30. The youngest woman I had ever slept with was 27.
Voile, there she is, My cousin Jeni, stepping out of the exit gate. She had short hair, brushed back, with two locks that flowed down the side of her face framing it perfectly. She was short, slender, and cute.
Then she saw me and I waved. She returned the wave with an affectionate and pretty smile. As she walked over to me I noticed she glided like a woman touched by grace. This stood in stark contrast to the cute face of a teenager. She made me immediately forget "it" girl. We greeted one another with "la bise," a kiss to each cheek, and hugged. I welcomed her in my best French, which is not very good. " Bienvenue, mademoiselle, aux Etats-Unis" Another smile spread across her face as she thanked me. We spent a minute or two talking about how long it had been since we had last seen each other. In my excitement, I complimented her about how beautifully she has grown up. This was met by a blush and a shy smile which reminded me of her youth and temporarily returned me to mine.
I suggested "let's get your bags and get home; so we can get some sleep. We'll need plenty of rest for tomorrow's sight seeing." At the baggage, terminal I noticed that she had very attractive derrière which was followed by a wave of guilt because she is a relative and a teenager. I took my mind off it by carrying her bags to the car and loading them for her.
When we arrived home, I showed her the room she would be staying in. She wanted a shower before turning in for the evening so I fetched her some towels and headed to the kitchen to cook her a light snack. I finished and set it on coffee table in the living room. As I began to sit on the sofa my heart stopped. She walked into the living room wearing one of the towels I had given her. It was too small and barely covered her essentials. I swallowed and sat down after noticing that I had paused halfway through. I quickly apologized for not getting her a bigger towel and she brushed it off as nonsense. She was drying her short hair with a towel in one hand and in the other had she carried a bag.
She laid the towel she was using to dry her hair on the floor and sat on it. She opened the bag and pulled out some cotton balls and pink, glittery, toenail polish. She stuffed a piece of cotton between each of her toes and began painting them so I turned on the television.
It was on a music video station which was replaying the daily countdown. This got us talking about latest music. What was good, bad, and things of that nature. During our conversation her youth and energy made feel young again. This was going to be a good summer.
When a female pop star's video aired I commented on how sexy she was. Jeni smirked and said:
"She is not! Her clothes are vulgar."
"Vulgar is sexy!" I exclaimed. To which she replied:
"There is a difference between being sexy and being vulgar."
"Only if you have been inhaling too much polish."
An open mouthed smile that was half joy and half shock spread across her face. She pulled the towel out from underneath her and threw it at me. I caught it and told her with laughter