Chapter 01: Meeting Mark
CAROL'S STORY:
I was looking forward to flying down to Florida for great-gram's big 95th birthday celebration, but the timing could have been better: Things had been heating up between Rick and me, and we were already talking about "doing it" if we could work out the time for it and some privacy, so a week apart wasn't in either of our plans.
Still, this was family, and we don't all get together all that often. The last time was for great-gram's 90th birthday, and I knew it wasn't likely we'd have another such happy occasion five years from now.
I was looking forward to seeing all my cousins, even though most of them were either way older or way younger than me. Dina was a year older than I was, but she was snobby bitch the last time I saw her and probably wasn't much different now. Her brother Mark was about the same age as me, but he was a shy, skinny 13-year-old last time around who couldn't talk to girls without stammering, not even girl cousins.
Yeah, you know where this is going, but let me lead up to it, okay?
Mom and I got to the hotel a few hours before the party. We unpacked our blouses and clothing that needed to hang in the closet, then hung out at the pool for a while to unwind. I was wearing my... Mom-appropriate swimsuit, a one-piece that looked good on me but didn't attract the same sort of attention as the bikini I wore when I went to the beach with Rick. I'd brought that one along as well, in the unlikely event that I'd have a chance to wear it during the week we were here, but Mom didn't have to know that.
I closed my eyes and let the warm sun relax me, and imagined hotel guests standing on the room balconies overlooking the pool, admiring my 18-year-hotness. Of course, considering how many older people I'd see in the hotel lobby, they'd more likely be staring at the MILF lying next to me... #
The next thing I knew, Mom was waking me up telling me it was time to get back to the room, shower, and get dressed for the party.
I'd packed a short-sleeved red blouse and a just-above-the knees black skirt and as I got dressed, I thought with a smile that I was looking way too good for family. Maybe some handsome prince would crash the party and whisk me away --
"Carol, and you listening to me?"
"What is it, Mom."
"You need a bra with that blouse. Anybody can see right into those wide sleeves. Oh God, tell me you packed bras for yourself."
"Yes, mother," I said, fishing into my suitcase for my one bra.
I hate wearing bras.
And I really didn't think this blouse needed one: For anybody to see anything,I'd have to be holding my arm stiffly out at a right angle to my body. The sad truth is, with how tiny my breasts are, if I held both arms out, you could see in one sleeve and out the other with nothing really blocking your line of sight.
At the party, downstairs in the hotel ballroom, we each got to spend some time with great-gram, then sat down for dinner. I was at the "kids" table along with a gaggle of 8-to-12 year olds, Dina, and Mark. Dina hardly said a word to me, but made a point of jutting out her ample breasts while looking disparagingly at my negligible mounds. Bitch.
Mark was still quiet. A lot hunkier-looking that he'd been 5 years earlier, but he barely spoke. I'd been hoping for a grown-up discussion with my cousins, but the most stimulating table conversation revolved around Hannah Montana.
After dinner, a band began playing, and family members began to both mingle and dance. Since mingling wasn't working out too well, I took Mark's hand and said "You. Me. Dance floor." That really wasn't like me, but sitting there was getting old. Fortunately, he came along with me.
MARK'S STORY
I'm glad Carol asked me to dance, because I never would have asked her myself.
I really didn't remember much about her from five years ago. On the way down here to Florida, Dina told me cousin Carol was a socially inept loser, but I think that was just Dina being her usual bitchy self. I was going through a painfully shy phase back then, so I didn't speak to anybody -- especially not girls.
I'm still kind of shy, but at least I can manage the occasional coherent sentence.
Carol was a good enough dancer to make up for my awkwardness. The slow dance toward the end, the close dance, was especially nice. Maybe too nice, because I found myself growing an erection that would have been embarrassing with any girl, but especially with a cousin. I backed away so she wouldn't feel it pressing against her.
"Let's sit and talk," she said.
We talked about our families and our schools. She told me about her boyfriend Rick, and how they'd been planning to have sex very soon. I was tempted to lie about my own experience with girls, but she was being so honest with me, I couldn't. I told her I'd never gotten past the occasional kiss.
Right around then she lifted her arm in a weird way, almost perpendicular to her body, and I could see right through her sleeve to what looked like a thin cotton bra. I could just about make out a nipple.
I looked away quickly, hoping she didn't notice what I could see.
"It looks like the parents have completely forgotten we exist," she said. She seemed lost in thought for a moment, then told me she'll be right back and walked off to the ladies' room. When she got back, she was carrying two cups of Coke. She handed me one and when she extended her arm, I could see through her blouse sleeve again -- only now her bra was gone and I had a perfect view of both of her breasts. Small, with hard pointy nipples. I almost dropped the cup as she was handing it to me.
Do I pretend not to notice? But she must have just removed the bra, so did that mean she wanted me to see?
If she was playing some sort of game, I was willing to keep playing it no matter what her rules were.