I'm going to admit this from the very beginning, this is not an erotic story. I wrote "We're Close for Cousins" without a sequel in mind. I have since begun writing the sequel, "Like a Real Family", and have made some notable changes to a few story elements. Of course, "Cousins" can still be read as its own story, and if I write "Family" well enough, it should be able to as well. The problem is, since I intend for "Family" to be a continuation of "Cousins", I need to explain these elemental differences between the two. That is the purpose of this story. Again, you should not have to read either story to understand the other, but if you want to understand how both fit together, this story is here to explain the differences and set up the changes.
I sincerely appreciate your consumption,
-AR2
*****
I looked at my phone in disbelief. I reread the conversation over and over, as if not comprehending it, or as if it would change. Anna was coming here. Not to visit, certainly not for vacation, but she was moving out here. She had just earned her Bachelor of Computer Science degree from University of Richmond and had, with her sterling grades (she had graduated with a 3.98 GPA in just three years) and non-stop internships (like the one she had been working during her mom's most recent wedding), pretty easily secured a position at a small tech company based in downtown Cincinnati. She had already rented an apartment and was leaving in a week to get here.
My mom and I waited patiently with the landlord for Anna to arrive. She was running a little late due to construction, but she did finally show up. There was no amount of pomp or circumstance to her arrival whatsoever. She pulled up in front of the building as if she had always lived there and got out of her car with a bag under each arm already. After making sure Anna was the new tenant, the landlord let us in and handed over the key.
We spent the next couple hours pulling stuff out of Anna's car and setting it up in her apartment. We ordered a pizza and a 2-liter of coke for dinner, and then mom left because, quote: "She's a young, single woman with a life to live." Anna and I had the decency to wait until she drove off before we busted out laughing. Mom might have looked good for her age, but she was still a conservative single mother in her mid-forties. To put it nicely, there wasn't much worry of us having to bail her out of jail later tonight.
Anna and I went back inside and finished unloading the last few boxes she had. We killed the last of the pizza and sat down on the couch (which, along with the rest of the furniture and appliances, came with the apartment). Anna set up her laptop on the coffee table, connected to the in-house wi-fi, and booted up Netflix. We watched a couple movies, commenting through all of them and making each other and ourselves laugh.
Finally, I felt it was about that time of night to head home. I stood up to leave and Anna stood up to walk me to the door. We hugged, and I said, "Good to see you, Anna."
Anna repeated the courtesy line, "Good to see you, too, Alex."
I let my hands slide down her back to her hips and pulled back enough to kiss her. She kissed back, but I could tell she was definitely resisting. Confused, I let go of her. She stood there silently for a second. In private at least, we had been all over each other earlier that summer. A move like this was typical for our relationship, so why was she acting like this was coming out of the blue?
"I know we had a thing in Virginia earlier this summer," she said, "And I'd be lying if I said I didn't come out here kind of hoping to continue it, but if we're going to keep doing this, it's going to have to be different."
I waited for her to go on. "Different how?" I asked, "And if it's not too much, why?"
Anna sat back down on the couch. I sat back down next to her. "I had my first real boyfriend in college," she began. I could tell this was going to be a lengthy one. I didn't want a life story, but I had sort of inadvertently asked for one. She continued, "I guess I inherited my mom's taste in men a little, because he was a real piece of work.
"His name was Richie, he was a year ahead of me, and he was convinced he was some kind of sex god. I didn't really think anything of it, but he kept pushing and pushing for sex and one night it finally just happened. We were in his dorm room, I had had a little to drink and we were making out. He groped me through my clothes, which I didn't particularly like but I wasn't fighting very hard. He pulled off our clothes and pushed me onto the bed and..." She trailed off.
I tried to read between the lines. Remembering that this was all, supposedly, relevant to why she was hesitant to my advances, I tried to see every angle. I landed on one I didn't really like. "He didn't rape you, did he?" I asked.
"No!" Anna said quickly. "I mean, not really, I didn't say no, it just kind of happened. And he was my boyfriend and we had sex more after that so-"
"I don't think that's how it works," I said uncomfortably. "And even if you want to say you were ok with it later, that doesn't make it ok for him to do that."
"I know, but...I know." She was clearly also uncomfortable with this particular subject. She continued anyway.
"We had more sex after that and he was into a lot of stuff I didn't even know was a thing...A lot of stuff you did too, actually..." She paused but continued before I could ask. "The thing is, like I said, he considered himself a sex god. He just measured his god status from his ability to get himself off. It's not that he wasn't good in bed, it's just that he didn't really care if he pleasured me. When he had sex, it was for him. I was just...there."
