Second Cousins, Second Chances
(MF, rom, cheat, cousins, oral, true?)
By Paul Story, PaulStory77@nospam.gmail.com (remove 'nospam')
FINAL VERSION, 6/26/2012 11:49 AM
As kids, Ed and Jen had lots of fun together. Most of it innocent, some of it a little naughty. Years later, when fate puts them back together on a cross-country road trip, will they have some more adult fun?
DISCLAIMER: Don't read if you're under eighteen, or if the laws in your very repressive jurisdiction would suggest that you not read smutty stories such as this one.
As kids, my cousin Jen and I were close. We were near the same age, just six months apart. We were actually second cousins -- our mothers were first cousins, who'd been as close as sisters when they were growing up.
So we spent a lot of time at their house, and they spent a lot of time at ours. Lots of backyard barbeques, Easter dinners, birthday celebrations, etc.
Our parents liked to get together and throw back a few cold beverages when they got together, and so there wasn't a lot of parental supervision going on. As little kids, of course, our play was innocent childhood fun.
As we got a bit older, and approached our "tween" years, Jen and I played the games that many opposite-sex friends/relatives do about that time. We played "doctor," using it as a chance to put our hands on each other.
We played "I'll show you mine if you show me yours," dropping our pants and giving each other quick flashes of our genitals. I didn't know what I was looking at, anyway, and wouldn't have known what to do with it!
We even acted out scenes from shows like "The A-Team" and "Dukes of Hazzard," using phony action scenes as excuses to roll over onto each other on Jen's pink-quilted bed. Quick, fleeting touches here and there, and we stole a couple of kisses too, giggling like fools afterwards.
We were the very epitome of "the innocence of youth."
As we grew into our high school years, we started to drift apart. She lived in a different school district than I did, so we made our own friends, lived our own lives. We still saw each other at family functions -- weddings, funerals -- and I couldn't help but notice that she'd turned into a beautiful young woman.
At a relative's wedding, when we were about 16 or so, Jen was one of the "junior bridesmaids." I remember sitting in the church, staring at Jen the entire time. Her light green dress was cut low in the front, and it was the first time I'd ever seen Jen with cleavage.
Maybe she noticed my stares, because at the reception's receiving line, she embraced me in a hug that seemed to last longer than any of the other hugs I'd endured that night! I luxuriated in the feel of her soft breasts pressing into my chest; but at the same time, I tried to keep my hips from contacting her midsection, wanting to conceal the sudden boner I'd developed!
Certainly that night, and on probably a couple of other occasions, I masturbated thinking of my sexy cousin. But for the most part, we weren't a part of each other's lives in our teen years, and as we both graduated and headed off to colleges in different parts of the country, we lost touch completely.
About 4 or 5 years after I graduated college, I reconnected with Jen on Facebook. My mom had kept me informed about family happenings of course, and she'd told me about Jen's wedding a couple of years back. I was now living on the other side of the country, in San Francisco, and it hadn't been practical to get back to Atlanta for the wedding. My mom bought the newlyweds a gift "from me," signing my name to the card.
Jen and I chatted and got to know each other, this time as adults, on Facebook. As luck would have it, she'd married a guy who was a computer programmer, same industry as me. Several months after we reconnected, she told me how unhappy he was in his job, and how they were looking to move somewhere to make a fresh start.
I suggested the Bay Area (somewhat jokingly at first), and then told Jen that my company was always looking for quality code monkeys. That led to me friending her husband Mike on Facebook as well, which led to him sending me a resume, which led to him flying out to SF for an interview with my bosses.
I invited Mike to stay with me while he was in San Francisco, and we got to know each other over a few beers while he decompressed from his interview. He told me about the questions the bosses had asked, and I gave him my honest assessment of his chances. I thought they were pretty good.
Turns out I was right; they called him the next week and offered him a job. Three weeks later, he was living in San Francisco in a temporary apartment while Jen stayed behind in Atlanta to pack up their house and arrange for its sale. She kept me informed of the progress via email and text messages, and I was pretty psyched that they'd be living in the Bay Area.
About a month after Mike moved to The City, we met up for happy hour at a bar near our office. He told me things were going well (we worked in different departments, so I didn't see him too much at work). Then he asked me for a favor.
"Ed, if I bought you a plane ticket, would you fly out to Atlanta and drive back here with Jen? We got a great offer on the house today, but the buyers want to close SOON -- like next Tuesday. I'm still in my 90-day probationary, so I can't take any time off yet."
I thought about his offer. I had plenty of vacation time available, and flying into Atlanta would allow me to spend the weekend with my parents, visit some old friends, and then Jen and I could leave on Tuesday. The drive from Atlanta to San Francisco was a bear, about 40 hours total. I'd only done it once, when I moved here, and wasn't eager to do it again. Still, with someone else in the car, it would be more fun than driving solo.
Mike interrupted my reverie and continued. "Jen insists she's fine to drive it by herself, but I think she only says that because she knows I can't really take the time off. I think she'd be grateful to have your company."
With that, I agreed. Mike even paid for my beers!
That night, Jen called me, and she did seem quite grateful. "It'll be lots of fun," she said. "If you say so," I said, the uncertainty plain in my voice.
"You'll see," Jen said. "I'll make it fun."
Over the next day or so we worked out the details of the trip. I arranged for the entire week off from work, which wasn't a problem. I hardly ever took vacation time.
As promised, Mike bought my plane ticket. I'd fly on a redeye from SFO to ATL on Friday night, cab it to my folks' place, and spend the weekend with them. Monday, I'd visit with some old friends, just take it easy.
Tuesday, Jen had the closing at 8 in the morning, then she'd swing by and pick me up immediately afterwards, and we'd hit the road. I asked her if she wanted to drive straight through, or overnight it along the way once or twice. She said we'd "play it by ear."
Everything went according to plan, and mid-morning Tuesday, I was rattling around my parents' empty house (they both still worked), making sure I'd repacked everything, when I heard a knock at the door.
I opened it and suddenly found myself with two armfuls full of Jen. "The house is sold, it's sold, it's sold!" she said joyously, kissing me on the cheek. I could feel two hard nipples pressing into my chest, and a lot of childhood feelings suddenly swam over me.
I held her at arms' length. "Let me get a look at you," I said.
At 27, Jen still looked much like she had in her high school days. Long, wavy brown hair cascaded down her back, the color matching her deep brown eyes. She stood about 5'7" in the sandals she was wearing today, and was slim without being skinny.
She was wearing a pair of yellow soccer-style shorts that showed off her long legs, and a ribbed white tank top that clearly had nothing beneath it. The aforementioned nipples were trying to poke their way out.
"You look great," I said. "But that's an interesting outfit for a lawyer's office. Weren't you cold?"
Jen laughed. "No, mother, I wasn't. Besides, I didn't wear this for the closing. I wore a perfectly respectable pantsuit. But then I had to stop at the gym to cancel my membership, and I still had these clothes in my locker. I figured I should be comfortable for the drive, right?"
I nodded. "Absolutely. And besides, it's hot out there." Atlanta in May, while more pleasant than Atlanta in August, was still pretty warm.
I grabbed my bag, locked the house, and we headed out to the driveway. Jen's car, a late-model Toyota RAV4 was parked there, and it looked like it would be a pretty comfortable ride.
I threw my bag in the back of the SUV, among all of Jen's clutter, and she handed me the keys. "You're driving first shift," she said. "I need to paint my toenails."
As I navigated the Atlanta beltway and finally got on I-20, heading west, Jen and I chatted about the house, Mike's new job, and what it was going to be like for them living in San Francisco.
True to her word, about 5 minutes into the drive, she slipped off her sandals and started working on her toes. She propped her feet on the dash and painted her toes a bright red. I tried to keep my eyes on the road, and my mind on our conversation, but both were wandering.
I found myself glancing at the right-side mirror a lot more than usual, giving my eyes many chances to gaze at her long, smooth legs. The position caused the hem of her shorts to slip a bit, and as she painted the toes of her left foot, her entire leg was exposed, including a generous portion of her hip.
She left both feet on the dash until her freshly-hued toes were dry. We continued chatting as the highway passed from Georgia into Alabama.
I'd set the cruise control at a respectable 80 miles per hour, and my right foot was off the pedals, my knee resting against the center console. Suddenly, there was a soft hand caressing that knee, and I struggled to keep the car in the lane as my mouth went dry in a second.
"Ed, do you remember all the games we used to play as kids," Jen asked slyly, her fingers tracing light circles over my kneecap.
I swallowed hard before answering, trying to keep a tremor out of my voice, trying to keep things light and cool. "What, you mean like Nintendo and stuff?" I asked, smiling.
Jen chuckled. "Well, that wasn't exactly what I meant," she said, her left hand sliding upwards from my knee, tracing over my lower thigh.
I tried to suppress the soft moan that suddenly overtook me, but I think Jen heard it. I could feel my cock swelling in my shorts, and I risked looking away from the road for a couple of seconds. Jen's brown eyes met my own.
"I remember everything, Jen. Everything we did, everything we didn't do, everything I wanted to do. Everything."
Her mouth quirked up in a smile, and I returned my eyes, if not my full attention, to the road. We drove in silence as Jen's hand continued wandering over my upper leg. Her soft fingers moved from my knee, over my thigh and hip, tickling under the hem of my khaki shorts for a moment, then moving on top of the fabric, dancing lightly along the pocket line and the zipper. Unconsciously, I spread my thighs further apart for her.
When she turned her fingers inward and cupped my balls, her thumb stroking lightly over the shaft of my cock, even through two layers of fabric, it felt heavenly. I didn't suppress the moan this time.
So, it's going to be that kind of trip, I thought to myself. I can't wait until it's Jen's turn to drive!
Over the next couple of hours, as we drove through Birmingham and then towards Mississippi, this pattern continued. Jen didn't keep her hands on me the entire time; sometimes, she'd remove her hand when I needed to disengage the cruise control, needed to use my right leg on the gas and the brake pedals.
Other times, she'd change CDs for us, or answer a phone call, or do something else. But always, her hand would return to my lap, and we'd both be strangely silent as she caressed me, the only sound my infrequent moan of pleasure. My cock was hard as steel now, pushing out obscenely from the front of my shorts.
We'd been on the road for about four hours when we stopped at a McDonald's somewhere near the Alabama/Mississippi border. After lunch and a quick bathroom break, we headed back out to the parking lot. "I'll take a turn at the wheel for a while," Jen offered.
I smiled and handed her the keys.
We got back on the highway, and as soon as it was safe to do so, I saw Jen set the cruise control. Her right knee rested against the center console as mine had. Trying not to seem too eager, I rested my hand lightly against her kneecap. The smooth softness of her skin, and the illicitness of what I was doing (this was my cousin! and another man's wife!) quickly brought me to full arousal once again.
I wasn't sure how far to take this, how far Jen wanted to go. After all, she was the married one -- I was single, unattached, no responsibilities to anyone else. So I followed her lead.
My hand traced a pattern on her leg, mimicking how she had touched me. Sliding over that amazingly soft skin, my fingers tickled at her flesh. I moved my hand from her kneecap, up her inner thigh, and along the hemline of her shorts, sliding to the outside of her leg and caressing her hip there.
She huffed in frustration when I removed my hand to change the radio station or adjust my sun visor. But her soft skin was too tempting, and I was never able to keep my hand off her for very long.
Eventually, the widening of her thighs emboldened me, and I moved my hand between them. The backs of my knuckles passed over her mound, and she moaned louder as I pressed firmly against her center, rotating in small circles.
We'd only been back on the road for half an hour or so when Jen pulled off the highway to a rest area. "Potty break," she said apologetically, grabbing her purse and heading inside. I didn't need to go (and in my current state of arousal, would have been unable to go), so I sat inside the idling car and waited.
Jen was back in just a couple of minutes. Tossing her purse into the back, she got back on the road. When the cruise control was set, my hand returned to her thigh.
When my fingers once again traveled between her thighs, pressing against her pubic area, I instantly knew something was different. I could feel her warmth much more evidently now, the heat radiating through her thin shorts, and I realized she'd taken off her panties at the last stop.
"Jen, you naughty, naughty girl," I said, my voice a bit shaky.
She chuckled nervously, and somehow managed to spread her thighs even wider. I continued my explorations, and when I slid two fingers inside the hemline of her shorts, she said only one word.
My cock throbbing in my shorts, I loosened my seatbelt and turned sideways in my seat so I could use my right hand, rather than my left. I slid my hand up her thigh, fingers dipping underneath her shorts. The shorts were loose enough that it was a simple matter to keep sliding my fingers higher and higher, and I think we both moaned as my fingertips slid onto her pelvis.
I pushed my fingers farther, touching a tuft of soft hair, and Jen pushed her hips towards my finger. I looked up at her; her eyes were firmly fixated on the road, her hands clenching the wheel, and her nipples were hard as diamonds and pushing out from her tank top.
She gasped loudly when my index finger passed over her hard clit, and I slid it downwards, feeling her warm wet lips. I slid my finger up and down through her lips gently, touching her clit again on every third or fourth upstroke. I teased her, often stopping my motion altogether, but I never pulled my hand back out of her shorts.
Eventually, I slid my finger inside her, just a tiny bit, not even to the first knuckle. The angle was awkward, and she was tight, but very, very wet.
I slid my finger in and out of her with tiny strokes. After a few minutes, she spoke again, through gritted teeth. "I need you to keep doing that," she breathed. "But I'm also going to kill us if you do so. Please, please stop moving until I can get off. I mean off the highway."
We both chuckled at the double entendre. But I obeyed her request, and kept my hand perfectly still. My palm was resting on her pubic hair, my index finger resting against her clit, the tip just inside her.
The next exit finally appeared within a few miles, though it felt like a few hundred miles. She pulled off at a rural exit, somewhere in the middle of Mississippi. There was nothing at this exit except for a gas station and a boarded-up feed store.
"There," I said, pointing at the feed store with the hand that wasn't currently in Jen's crotch. As she pulled around the backside of the store, out of view from the road, I started moving my hand again, rubbing against her clit and thrusting my finger into her.
Jen skidded the SUV to a stop on the gravel parking lot and threw the transmission into park. Not even bothering to turn off the ignition, she threw off her seatbelt and clutched at me, trying to draw my face to hers.
As I scrambled to undo my own seatbelt, Jen reclined her seat, pushing it almost all the way flat. I kept my finger inside her, moving it deeper into her now, helped by her body's new angle.
Kneeling on my own seat, I leaned over Jen, my mouth meeting hers in our first kiss in nearly two decades. As our tongues met and we moaned into each other's mouth, I added a second finger to the molten vise of her pussy, and her moan became a shriek.
Faster and faster I pumped into her, my cock an iron bar trapped between my belly and the car's center console. I removed my mouth from hers and watched as her head rolled against the seat, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. My eyes were drawn to her heaving breasts.
Heedless of the awkward angle, I slid my left arm over the console, my right hand still fucking her pussy faster and faster. I roughly pulled her tank top upwards, exposing her right breast to my gaze. It was perfect, round and firm, her nipple long and erect. I felt Jen's pussy contract around my fingers, a fresh gush of moisture allowing me to thrust my fingers even faster.
I leaned back over and took her nipple into my mouth, rolling it with my tongue, nipping at it with my lips. Vaguely, I was aware of her pulling up her shirt the rest of the way, one hand pinching at her other nipple, the other tangled in my hair. Over and over, she was now moaning, "Ed Ed Ed Ed…"
I pressed my hand flatter against her pussy, fingers still thrusting into her, palm tighter against her pubic mound, the base of my hand now constantly rubbing her clit.
"Ed, oh Ed, oh I'm going to oh---mffffgg." I cut off her moans by moving my mouth back over her own, and shoved my fingers faster and deeper into her warm pussy. She shrieked into my mouth and tore her face away as her climax burst upon her.
Her cunt tightened around my fingers like a vise, and I thrust into her harder, feeling her muscles clench and release, clench and release, her orgasm splashing down over my fingers and hand.
As the intensity of her moans lessened, I slowed the thrusting of my fingers, and eventually came to a stop. I looked down at Jen. Her eyes were still closed, her tank top still rucked up over her chest, breasts still heaving, the left one still clenched in her own hand.
Very slowly, I withdrew my fingers from her now-sensitive pussy and out of her shorts, and rested my hand on her thigh, my fingers slick.
Jen finally opened her eyes and looked at me, a blush creeping over her pale skin. "That was….wow. I don't even know what to say."
Before I could answer, an 18-wheeler rattled down the local road in front of the feed store, and I realized maybe we weren't as private as we thought. Jen realized the same thing, and quickly pulled her tank top down. As she brought the seat back up to the regular position, she looked at me. "I guess -- I guess we should get back on the road? Do you mind driving for a while?"
"No, of course not," I said, still keenly aware of my rock-hard erection.
As we crossed behind the car to trade seats, Jen suddenly wrapped me in a hug, her pelvis pressed against my cock. Her breath was hot in my ear when she whispered, "I -- I love, you Ed."
"I love you too, Jen," I said automatically.
In silence, we got back in the car, buckled up, and I drove us back on the highway. Jen rested her head against the doorframe and was asleep within 5 minutes, snoring softly.
When I was sure she was sleeping, I brought the two fingers of my right hand to my nose, and inhaled deeply. The scent of Jen filled my brain, and my cock throbbed in my pants.
END OF CHAPTER 1
As Jen continued to snore lightly in the seat beside me, I drove the roads of rural Mississippi. Sitting in the seat that was still warm and slightly damp from Jen's climax, I had a lot of time to think.
Had I done something wrong? Well, for starters, I'd had sexual contact (if not actual sex) with a married woman. So, that's adultery.
But, I'd never taken any marital vows, I reasoned. The only person breaking any vows was Jen, and she certainly didn't seem to mind at the time!
Then, there was the added complication that Jen was my cousin. Okay, second cousin, but still. Was incest wrong? Between an adult and a child, sure, of course.
But between two consenting adults? I'd had my share of one-night stands and other brief sexual encounters, even some ''friends with benefits'' arrangements. Was this any different because Jen was my cousin?
I thought about this for the next hour or two. Unfortunately, I didn't come up with many answers.
As we left Mississippi and entered the Memphis, Tennessee area, we had to do some driving on surface roads, rather than highways. The constant stopping and starting woke Jen, and she blinked her eyes to clear them.
As we pulled to a stop at a light near the Memphis airport, Jen clasped her hands above her head and stretched, arching her back. As she looked out the window at the rows of FedEx planes parked at the airport, I looked at her.
The position of her body naturally thrust her breasts forward, and my eyes followed the curves of her torso, down to the bottom of her shirt, which pulled up enough to show a swath of her taut belly. I watched as her nipples pressed against the thin shirt, and unconsciously licked my lips as I remembered the feel of her nipple on my tongue.
I didn't hear the guy behind me honk the first time. When he leaned on his horn harder the second time, Jen's head snapped around and caught me staring at her. Red-faced, I turned back to the wheel and gunned the accelerator, catching up with the flow of traffic.
Jen told me she was ready to drive for a while, and we pulled over at a gas station to fill up the tank and trade places. As she took over, we headed west on I-40 and talked about how much longer we would drive. We'd "gained" an hour coming from the eastern to central time zones, and it was only 4:00 or so.
"It's about an hour and a half to Little Rock," I said. "Or, we could push it, and be nearly out of Arkansas by 7, and stop there."
"That sounds like a good idea," Jen said. "Is that what you did when you drove out to California?"
"Well, not exactly," I said, hesitatingly. I was hoping Jen wouldn't look over and notice my blush, but there was still plenty of daylight left and I didn't get so lucky.
"What?" she said. "What's making you blush like that?"
"Well..." I said. "When I drove from Atlanta to San Francisco, I sort of had a detour to make. I needed to visit an old...friend in Dallas, so I took the southern route, on I-20."
"An old 'friend,' huh?" Jen asked, giggling. "I'm guessing this was a female friend?"
"Oh yes," I agreed. We were quiet for a few minutes, but the thoughts of Mandy and that Dallas visit, combined with today's events, had me squirming in my seat.
As we crossed the state of Arkansas, we talked about our college years, how Jen and Mike met, some of my favorite places in San Francisco, and other idle chit-chat. I think we were both too nervous to discuss anything that was the least bit sexual or "flirty." And, my hands stayed completely on my side of the car.
A couple of times, Jen would let her right knee rest against the center console; I noticed every single time. She didn't leave it there long, would pull it back quickly, keeping her legs well within the driver's side area.
As the sun sank into the western horizon, it was directly in our face, and it seemed like a good time to stop for the night. We were near Fort Smith, just a few miles from the Oklahoma border.
We found an exit with an abundance of "interstate-quality" hotels and fast food places, and Jen pulled the car into the nearest hotel parking lot.
"I'll get us a couple of rooms," she said. She'd already told me, earlier in the day, that Mike had insisted she pay for everything, as a way of thanking me for making the trip.
I put my hand on hers before she got out of the car. "Jen," I said. "I know today has been weird. Really weird, in some ways. But if you're okay with one room -- with two beds, of course! -- so am I. I think it's silly for you to waste your money on two rooms every time we stop."
Jen looked at me, her brown eyes open and questioning, as she searched my face. Finally, she nodded. "All right. I really don't like staying in hotel rooms by myself, especially motels like this. But they better have rooms with two beds. And if Mike ever asks, you had your own room."
She grinned at me, and I grabbed our bags from the car as she went inside to check in.
The hotel gave us a first floor room, with two queen beds. Simple, but clean, and that's all we needed for tonight.
Before we ran out to get some dinner, Jen wanted to give Mike a quick call. I grabbed my bag and headed into the bathroom, to get a quick shower and give Jen at least a little privacy.
A cool shower washed away most of my horniness from earlier in the day. As I washed my cock and balls, I thought about masturbating, then decided against it, as I didn't want to take too long in the shower. I quickly dressed, and stepped out of the bathroom with my bag in my hand.
Jen caught my eye in the vanity mirror and winked at me, holding one finger to her lips as she continued talking to Mike.
"Yeah, we're right near the Arkansas/Oklahoma border. Some little Motel 6."
"What? No, of course he got his own room."
"Really? I mean, of course you're right, he is my cousin. Okay, for tomorrow night I'll ask him."
"Yeah, just get some dinner and then I'm sure we'll hit the hay. Another long day tomorrow."
"Okay, I'll make sure. Love you too."
She pressed the off button on her phone and looked up at me. "That was...weird. Mike said he wouldn't have had any problem with you and I sharing a room, because you're my cousin and so why would it be weird."
I didn't have anything to say to that, so I just smiled wryly and shrugged my shoulders.
We headed out and grabbed a forgettable dinner at a hamburger place next to the hotel, then returned to the room for a bit. Eventually, we were both yawning, and decided to call it a night.
Still dressed in my shorts and t-shirt, I brushed my teeth while Jen went into the water closet and used the toilet. I moved out of the way when she came out, allowing her to get to the sink. It was oddly intimate.
I finished at the sink and climbed into my bed, watching the end of SportsCenter while Jen finished getting ready. She walked back into the main part of the room, wearing a shorty pajama set.
"Don't you look adorable," I said, the words out of my mouth before I even thought about it.
She blushed. "Thanks. But what about you?" she asked, gesturing at my clothes. "Where are your 'adorable' pajamas?"
I laughed. "Well, adorable or not, I didn't bring any kind of pajamas. I usually just sleep in boxers. So I figured I would just get under the covers and disrobe after we turn the lights off."
She nodded. "Good plan."
I flipped off the TV and wiggled under the sheets. Jen walked between the beds, and I couldn't help but admire her legs and her ass, displayed perfectly in the pajamas. She slid into bed and pulled the sheet over her legs.
She reached over to the night table to turn off the bedside lamp, and I stole a glance down the neckline of her shirt, the upper curves of her breasts visible. She saw me looking, and paused for a second before turning off the light.
"Goodnight, Ed," she said.
In the darkness of the room, I pulled my shorts and shirt off and set them on the floor next to the bed. The glances at Jen's pajama-clad body had brought back my arousal in full force. My cock was hard, tenting out my boxer shorts, and I doubted that I'd be able to sleep without masturbating.
As I gently stroked myself through my boxers, I tried to listen for Jen's breathing, to tell if she was asleep. But the room's air conditioner was loud enough that I couldn't really hear her.
I decided I'd wait 10 minutes, then try and quietly jack off. The red numerals on the bedside clock counted down, slowly.
When ten minutes had elapsed, I pulled my boxers down to my thighs. My hard cock slapped against my belly, and I started stroking it, beneath the sheet. I tried to keep my movements to a minimum, tried to be as quiet as possible.
Apparently, it wasn't quiet enough.
A voice whispered out of the dark. "Ed?"
I guess I could have pretended to be asleep, but instinctively, I replied. "Yeah?"
"Are you -- what are you doing?" she asked.
"Um, just trying to sleep," I responded lamely, my fist still clenched around my erection.
"Are you, um, doing something to help yourself sleep?" she asked, giggling softly, and I could picture her blush.
I sighed. "Yeah, I am, Jen. I can't help it. You're so beautiful, and what we did today was so unbelievable, and I'm not sure I've ever been this horny."
The silence seemed to stretch out for hours, and I paused there in that dark hotel room, eyes closed, hand still clutching my dick, which had softened in my hand. Would she asked me to get my own room, ask me to stop what I was doing, ask me to at least go to the bathroom to do it?
Suddenly, I heard a small voice, much closer to me, say "Move over."
My eyes snapped open, and as they adjusted to the dark, I saw Jen's silhouette. Wordlessly, I scooted over in the bed, and she pulled the covers back to climb in next to me.
When her warm flesh touched mine, I realized she was nude, and my cock instantly stiffened. She chuckled as my lengthening dick brushed against her arm, and she helped me push my boxer shorts off my legs.
Her lithe body cuddled next to mine, one thigh thrown over my own, as her warm, soft hand found my cock and caressed me gently. My dick was now hard as steel as she stroked it, possibly harder than it had ever been.
"Oh Ed, you're so big," she said, stroking me. "I couldn't believe how big you felt in your shorts earlier, but this is so much better."
I moaned in response, and that was the last thing either of us said. In silence, I enjoyed the marvelous feeling of her stroking me, her smooth thigh pressed against my own, her soft knee gently brushing against my balls. I could feel her silky pubes pressing against my hip.
She pumped my cock faster and faster, and the events of the day had me on a hair trigger. When she moved to the top of my cock and started concentrating on stroking the area above and around the head, I lost it.
I moaned loudly as my cock exploded with orgasm, thick streams of cum blasting out over Jen's hand and arm, and onto my torso.
It felt like every muscle in my body tensed in climax, and suddenly they all relaxed, and I felt like I could sink right through the mattress.
I was dimly aware that Jen left the bed, and I heard the sink running. When she returned, she pulled the sheet back and cleaned the semen from me with a warm washcloth, then dried me gently. She covered my body with the sheet and returned the cloths to the bathroom; I assumed she would then return to her own bed.
Half asleep, I was pleased when she returned to my bed, her head nestling onto my shoulder.
END OF CHAPTER 2
On Wednesday morning, I awoke as the sun was weakly filtering through the curtains. Jen was still cuddled next to me, one leg thrown over my own, her head mostly on the pillow, lightly resting against my shoulder.
It had been a while since I'd woken up next to someone else, and I laid as still as possible, not wanting to wake Jen prematurely. I still wasn't sure where this was all going, how she was going to react this morning, and I wanted to enjoy this closeness while I had it.
The beside clock read 7:37 when Jen stirred in the bed, and rolled over sleepily, her leg sliding off mine as she did so. Her eyes opened, staring at the ceiling, and she blinked a few times. Clearly, she was aware I was right next to her, but she took a few moments before looking over at me, as if she was reminding herself of the previous day.
I was also, suddenly, quite aware of the fact that we were both still nude, and in the light of day, that felt uncomfortable.
Finally, Jen turned her head to me. "Hi there, Ed. Sleep well?"
I chuckled. "Why yes, I did. Must have been tired from all that driving."
She smiled. "Yep. That must have been it."
Jen was holding the hem of the sheet at her chest, and I guessed that she was uncomfortable with our nudity as well. I offered that I could go jump in the shower first, and she nodded gratefully.
I fumbled under the sheets, my hands brushing against Jen's smooth, bare legs, as I found my boxers and pulled them back on. Climbing out of the bed, I grabbed my bag and headed for the shower.
After I'd cleaned up, I came back into the room. Jen was sitting on the edge of the bed in the same pajamas she'd briefly worn last night.
She showered and we both repacked our bags. We didn't say too much as we gathered our things.
I did notice that Jen wore capri pants today, and a short-sleeve Georgia Tech t-shirt. I didn't stare too obviously, but her nipples weren't as visible today, and so I guessed she was wearing a bra. Was that a message to me (and to herself) that today's trip would be different? I just didn't know.
We checked out of the hotel and grabbed some McDonald's breakfast before once again heading west on Interstate 40. Jen drove the first shift, and we were both quiet while we finished our McMeals.
A few minutes after we'd crossed the state line into Oklahoma, Jen was the first to speak.
"This...this trip has been kind of interesting so far, hasn't it?"
I nodded. "You could definitely say that!"
Jen sighed. "Ed, I didn't mean to -- yesterday, I just wanted to tease you a little bit, and I was hoping you'd tease me back a little bit too. Never in my wildest dreams did I think we'd, um..." she paused, not sure how to word it.
"You didn't think we'd go so far, right?" I asked.
"Right. And I -- I mean, I'm not sure what to think about it. On the one hand, I'm a married woman, I'm not supposed to do shit like this."
"On the other hand, Ed, in a lot of ways this is my biggest fantasy come true. I mean, I fantasized about you for years, you were my first kiss. And then, after that time at Audrey's wedding, I always wondered what..." she trailed off. "Well, let's just say I always wondered a lot of things."
"Wait," I said. "Audrey's wedding, the one where you wore that green dress with the cleavage?"
Jen giggled, and nodded.
"My god, Jen, you were so gorgeous in that dress. I stared at you the whole time, and then when you hugged me at the reception, I tried to make sure that you couldn't feel..."
This time, I trailed off, and watched the blush creep up Jen's neck and face. She stared straight ahead at the road, not looking at me.
"You did feel it, though, didn't you?" I asked. "You knew my dick was hard from looking at you in that dress."
Jen paused for a long time, staring straight ahead at the Oklahoma landscape, cheeks still red. "Yeah. I was pretty sure you had the hots for me the way you were staring at my chest the whole time. But when I hugged you and could feel you, I knew for sure."
"God, Jen. I must have jacked off to the image of you in that dress, and the feel of that hug, a dozen times over the next week."
Jen's blush, which had faded a bit, reddened again. She swallowed hard before continuing. "Eddie," she said. "My panties were so soaked thinking about that, it was really the first time I was aware of another person looking at me in a sexual way."
No one had called me "Eddie" for years, but I let it slide, and waited for her to continue.
"I -- when the receiving line was over, Eddie, I went in the bathroom, and -- I made myself cum, thinking of you. I wasn't planning to do that, just wanted to clean myself up a little, but as soon as I started touching myself, I couldn't stop. I had the hardest cum of my life, right there in that Marriott bathroom."
I squirmed in my seat, my cock hard. "Jesus, Jen. That is hot as hell."
"I wanted to talk to you at the reception, maybe dance with you or something, but I never got the chance, and I sort of felt like we weren't even that close any more, you know?"
I agreed. "Yeah, I know exactly what you mean, Jen. And at 15 or 16, I wasn't quite ready to ask girls to dance. Jake and Robby and I spent most of that reception trying to sneak a couple of beers away from my dad."
Jen laughed. "Once your dad had pounded a few, I bet that was pretty easy to do."
I laughed along with her. "No comment."
"Ed, no matter what else happens," she said, her tone serious again, "I don't regret what we've done. I need to think about it, think about if I can do anything else with you, but I already know I'll never forget this trip."
I nodded, unsure of what to say. I stared out the road at the passing farmland for a bit. Jen seemed lost in her thoughts, and when I asked her if she minded if I took a nap for a bit, she nodded silently.
I slipped my iPhone earbuds in, called up a relaxing playlist, and drifted off, my head resting against the door.
I woke up a couple of hours later, as Jen pulled the SUV into a rest area for a bathroom break. After we'd both used the restroom, I asked her if she wanted me to drive some more, but she said she was good until lunch.
We spent the next couple of hours chit-chatting. It was comfortable and easy to talk with her, and I mentally chastised myself for losing touch with Jen for so many years. We were both only children, and she was the closest thing I had to a sibling.
As it neared lunchtime, and we approached the border with Texas, we started planning our next stop. "When I took the southern route on I-20..."
"To see your 'friend,'" Jen interrupted.
"Yes, to see my friend," I continued, laughing. "I thought I would be in Texas for a week. What a huge state. We're lucky that we're only crossing the panhandle, we'll be in Texas less time than we were in Oklahoma!"
Jen found an exit with a couple of gas stations and a Wendy's, so we filled the car's tank before heading in to fill our stomachs. Jen rummaged around in the back of the SUV for something, then followed me inside. She asked me to order for her, handing me a $20 bill, and headed back to the restroom.
I got our sandwiches, fries, and drinks, and found a table. I glanced up towards the rear of the restaurant, and nearly dropped the tray in surprise.
Jen had changed into a gauzy blue skirt that stopped several inches north of her knee, and I admired her sexy legs. As she got closer to the table, I could see she'd also made another change. Her Georgia Tech t-shirt now featured prominent bumps beneath both the "G" and the "T," and I knew she'd lost her bra as well. I wondered if she was even wearing panties, and I whispered that question to her as she reached the table.
Her face broke into a broad smile, and she dropped her purse into one of the empty chairs, her rolled-up capri pants sticking out of the top. "That's for me to know, and you to find out."
"And," she continued, "it might take a while for you to find out. Because it's your turn to drive after lunch."
I groaned again.
END OF CHAPTER 3
We finished our lunches, and we each hit the restroom another time. As I was washing my hands at the sink, I had a thought -- my turn to drive, maybe I should prepare a surprise for Jen?
The restroom was empty, and I darted into one of the stalls. Pulling my shorts down, I removed my boxers, then pulled my shorts back up, zipping them ever-so-carefully.
I looked down at the boxer shorts in my hand and wondered what to do with them. My pockets weren't really big enough, and I didn't want to walk through a restaurant with my underpants in my hand!
Eventually, I decided to just throw them in the trash (they were old, anyway!) and headed back to the car with Jen.
As we got back on the interstate, I was very aware of Jen's newly-bare legs in the seat next to me. She shifted in the seat, getting comfortable, and her skirt slid up another half-inch or so.
We crossed into Texas, and as I set the cruise control at 80, I noticed Jen shifting in her seat again, her hands briefly plucking at the hem of her skirt. I realized the "accidental" movements of her skirt were purposeful, and her legs were now displayed up to mid-thigh.
I purposely glanced at her thighs, then caught her eyes, and licked my lips. She giggled.
We drove along in silence, the only noise the hum of the car passing over the asphalt highway, the miles disappearing beneath our wheels.
We were about halfway between the state line and Amarillo when Jen upped the ante, once again. She pulled her skirt up a bit higher, until I could see that she did in fact have panties on. White satin panties, in fact, which conformed very closely to the contours of her pussy.
"Watch the road," she warned me, smiling, when my gaze lingered too long.
I returned my attention to the road.
"Good boy," she said.
I stared ahead at the empty highway and surrounding countryside, but glanced over at Jen again when I heard the sound of fingers on satin. My eyes widened as I saw Jen casually sliding one finger up and down over her panty-covered slit.
"Eyes on the road," she said, pausing her motions, and I snapped my head forward.
"This could be a fun little game," Jen said, and my cock throbbed at the playful tone in her voice. "It's now 2:22," she said, gesturing at the dashboard clock. If you can keep your eyes on the road for 5 minutes, I'll give you a reward."
"What's the reward?" I asked, smiling.
"You don't get to find out. Not until 2:27, at least."
I fixed my eyes forward on the interstate and willed my head to lock into position. I heard Jen moan softly, and it took all the willpower I had not to look. I clenched my jaw tightly.
"Maybe it would help," Jen said softly, "if I described what I'm doing. That way, you don't have to look."
I laughed, shakily. "I'm not sure that helps at all, but please, I want to hear it anyway."
Jen giggled. "I'm sliding one finger over the outside of these white little panties. This are my favorite panties to wear when I masturbate, because the satin feels so good against my clit," she said. "Oh, and by the way, it's now 2:23."
"Geez," I breathed.
"Mmmmm," Jen continued. "Two fingers over the outside of my panties now. I can feel -- eek" she said, "I can feel my clit getting harder, and I can feel my lips starting to swell a bit, my pussy getting wetter. I'm pushing a little harder now," she said.
For a few moments, she was quiet. My jaw still locked, I listed to the soft sounds of her fingers rubbing over the slick fabric.
"2:24," Jen said softly. "My pussy is definitely getting wet now. I'm still rubbing along the outside, remembering how it felt when you touched me yesterday, remembering how your big, hard dick felt in my hand last night."
My cock lurched in my pants as I too, remembered.
"I'm spreading my fingers apart wide," Jen said, "sliding them on either side of my pussy. Ooooh, that's nice. Pushes my lips tight against my clit."
"Fuck," I groaned.
"2:25, Ed," she said. "Stay strong."
I felt a warm hand caress my kneecap, and I moaned again. Jen made a soft squeak, and out of reflex, I glanced over at her, fortunate that her eyes were closed. I quickly returned my eyes to the road.
Unaware of my glance, she continued narrating, her left hand caressing my leg softly. "I've slipped two fingers inside my panties, Ed. I'm touching my bare pussy, my lips wet and slippery, my clit hard. Do you remember how it felt yesterday."
I moaned. "God yes, Jen, your little pussy so hot and wet."
"It is now too, Eddie. Hot and so slippery wet, wishing this was your fingers, or your..." Her voice trailed off as her hand slid up my thigh, crossing on to the fabric of my shorts, sliding in between my thighs. Her fingers trailed over my balls and she fondled the outline of my cock through my shorts.
"Mmmmm.....so hard, so nice, Ed."
"What...time...is...it?" I asked, gritting my teeth as she touched me gently.
"2:26, Ed. You're doing great, almost there."
"You got that part right," I said, "especially if you keep touching me like that."
Jen giggled, her hand still stroking my cock through my shorts.
After a few moments of silence, she gasped again, her grip tightening on my cock. "I just slipped one finger inside my tight little pussy, Ed. Just like you did yesterday, in and out, in and out.....oh god so nice, but your finger felt even better."
I could smell her arousal in the air now, and my cock throbbed under her touch.
"2:27, Ed," she said triumphantly. "Don't look just yet." She pulled her hand off my cock momentarily. "Okay, now."
I looked over at her and saw that she'd pulled her t-shirt up and over her breasts, both of them on display, nipples hard and prominent.
"Mmmm, god, Jen," I breathed.
"Okay, eyes back on the road for part two of your reward," she said, her hand returning to my crotch.
I faced forward again. "I don't have to wait five more minutes, do I, Jen?"
"No," she said. "Neither of us do." I felt her unsnap the button of my shorts, and as she reached for the zipper, I said, softly, "be careful."
"Be careful? Why -- ohhhhh, I see," she said, as I felt a stream of cool air over the top of my exposed cock. "Ed, you are naughty, naughty!"
She pulled the fabric of my shorts away from my dick and gently lowered the zipper. My head swam from the sensation as cool air surrounded my cock. Jen pushed the fabric away on each side of my crotch and took my bare cock in her hand, and I moaned with pleasure.
She pumped my cock in her hand as she adjusted the seatbelt, got up on her knees, then back down, leaned over the console to give my cock a quick kiss, then slid back into her seat. "This isn't going to work. Pull over somewhere."
I nodded, and in a lust-induced daze, looked for a likely spot. The exits had been few and far between on this stretch of I-40, but I had a pretty good idea what Jen wanted to do, and I didn't think pulling over on the shoulder was the best idea.
She squeezed my cock gently with her left hand and slipped her right hand back inside her own panties as I desperately willed an exit to come into existence. Finally, one approached, and I took it.
As I rolled through the stop sign at the bottom of the exit ramp, I looked around. There was a wooded lot on the other side of the road that was in the process of being cleared. It was about half done, and there didn't appear to be any construction equipment in use today.
I pulled onto the property slowly, and around to the backside of the remaining stand of trees, where we'd be shielded from view from both the interstate and the local road.
Before the car had even stopped, Jen was unbuckling her seat belt. She gave my cock one last squeeze, and simply said, "back seat," before clambering over the center console and into the back. I gave her ass a smack, then a squeeze, and she moaned.
It seemed too awkward for me to climb from the driver's seat to the back, so I unbuckled my own seat belt. Holding my shorts together so they wouldn't fall off, I stepped out of the car, the Texas sun warm on my partially-exposed cock. I chuckled at this ridiculous, yet incredibly arousing, situation.
I slid into the back seat next to Jen. She immediately pulled at my shorts, and I lifted my ass so she could push them down to my ankles. Her white satin panties were already down there on the floorboard.
Jen knelt on the backseat and lowered her head to my lap. I moaned with pleasure as her lips and tongue engulfed my cock, and I rested one hand on the top of her head.
She bathed my cock with her saliva, tongue dancing around the head.
I reached for her ass with my right hand, and pulled her skirt up, bunching it around her waist, so I could caress her bare cheeks. Her ass was smooth and soft in my hand, and she moaned as I touched her. I realized she had one hand between her own thighs, frigging her own clit.
Her shirt was still pulled up, and I could feel those deliciously hard nipples pressed into my thigh as she sucked me.
I leaned over on the back seat, stretching my arm so I could reach between her thighs. My fingers found her slippery lips, and I touched her own fingers. Together, she and I both played with her pussy as she sucked me, which was incredibly erotic.
Jen concentrated on frigging her own clit, and I slipped two fingers inside her, thrusting in and out. It was an awkward angle, but I didn't care.
Her mouth was on fire around my cock, her head bobbing up in my lap faster and faster. Her pace encouraged me, and I slammed two fingers in and out of her, hard. She held her mouth still on my cock and pressed her chest tight against me, rubbing her tits in circles against my thigh.
A low moan vibrated in her throat, sending thrills up my spine as my cock shivered in her mouth, and her pussy clenched against my fingers as she came, the orgasm making her knees quiver.
I held my fingers still inside her, and she moved her hand back and rubbed against mine. Then, she brought that hand, still slick with her own juices, to the base of my cock and started pumping me as she resumed sucking. The additional lubrication, and the knowledge that it was her warm wetness touching my cock, quickly brought me close to the edge.
My fingers slipped out of her pussy and I clenched her ass as she sucked me, thumb and forefinger clutching my cock, other fingers caressing my tightening balls.
"Gonna. Come. Jen," I said through clenched teeth.
She didn't pause for a moment, continuing to suck and pump me, and I closed my eyes and let the pleasure overtake me. I groaned with delight as my cock pulsed in Jen's mouth, two, three, four times, my hot cum blasting into her as she pumped and sucked to get every last drop.
My head lolled on to the back of the seat. I was vaguely aware of Jen pumping the last drops from me, then kissing the tip of my cock and resting her head on my bare thigh, her hand still wrapped around my softening dick, mine still resting on her bare ass.
I'm not sure how long we stayed like that, both catching our breath and recovering, half-naked on a sticky backseat somewhere in the Texas Panhandle.
Eventually, we roused, and with the help of some tissues, cleaned ourselves up the best we could. We re-dressed, and as I steered the car back onto the interstate, it was Jen's turn to take a nap.
As she dozed, I leaned my head back against the headrest. Enjoying the pleasant ache in my testicles, and the smell of our musk still in the car, the miles passed quickly beneath the car's tires.
We'd crossed into New Mexico (and the Mountain time zone, "gaining" another hour) by the time Jen awoke, after 3:30. She asked for a bathroom break, and after we stopped, she consulted her iPhone as we tried to determine where to stop for the night. We decided to stop just past Albuquerque, which would leave us around 16 hours left on the trip.
"We could really push ourselves and do that in one day," I told Jen. "Or, we could break it up into two, or even three days."
She smiled at me. "I'm not in a hurry for this trip to end."
I was grinning like a fool as I pulled off the interstate just west of Albuquerque. We found a similar hotel to last night, only this one had a pool. We grabbed some fast food for dinner and sat on the hotel's outdoor patio, the last rays of sunshine stretching across the pool deck.
There were a couple of families splashing around in the pool as we finished our dinner. In low voices, so we wouldn't be overheard, we discussed some of the dirty things we could do in the pool, as neither of us had brought a swimsuit.
Unfortunately, a few more families showed up, and it became clear that this hotel pool wasn't going to be a place for some private fun! Jen was disappointed -- she said she hadn't been skinny dipping in years. I reminded her that we had an empty hotel room waiting for us, and squeezed her thigh under the patio table.
We cleaned up our trash and headed back to the room. Jen needed to give Mike a call, so under the guise of getting out of her way for a bit, I went outside and checked the fluids and tire levels in the RAV4, and took it next door to fill it with gas and wash the windows.
When I returned to the room, Jen was off the phone, and under the sheets in one of the room's beds. As I closed the door behind me, she tossed the sheet aside, displaying her delicious little nude body.
I quickly shed my clothes and joined her. We spent the next hour touching, teasing, and pleasing each other. I got my first taste of her warm, sweet pussy, and I brought her to two orgasms with my lips and tongue.
When she pushed me onto my back and briefly straddled my midsection, I thought she was going to guide my hardness up inside of her. Instead, she slid back down between my thighs and took my cock into her mouth, licking and sucking me until I exploded into her mouth for the second time that day.
The room's second bed went unused that night.
On Thursday morning, inspiration struck me. While Jen was in the shower, I consulted my GPS software and made a couple of phone calls.
When Jen got out of the bathroom, I asked her a question. "Have you ever seen the Grand Canyon?"
I watched her as she slid panties up her long legs, and I realized that she was remarkably unconcerned with her own nakedness this morning. She answered me as she put on the same skirt from yesterday, and a light skirt. "No, not really."
"Do you want to?"
She shook her head. "I mean, I guess in theory, but it's pretty hot out there, and I only have so many clean clothes left. I wish I had a bathing suit, because I don't want this trip to end, and I'd love to hang out by the pool with you."
I smiled. "That's all I needed to hear." I dialed Mike's office number on my phone, Jen watching me curiously.
"Hey Mike," I said when he answered. "No, no problems, the trip is going great. Listen, I think that Jen and I will take a short detour and see the Grand Canyon while we're so close."
Jen cocked her head and held up her hands in a "what the hell?" gesture as I continued talking to her husband.
"Yeah, we're in Albuquerque now. We'll head south from here, visit the Canyon, and then break the remaining trip up into two days. We'll be in San Francisco on Saturday."
Jen smiled at the "two days" part, but still looked at me quizzically as I completed the conversation. "He says you should call him later, and drive safe."
She nodded. "Yeah, OK, I will, but why the hell are we going to the Canyon when I told you I didn't really want to?" She had her hands on her hips at this point, adorably annoyed with me.
"I just needed an alibi for Mike. I couldn't tell him what I'm really planning to do with you, and to you."
Jen blushed, and raised one eyebrow at me.
"Think about it. We want this trip to have some more sun, water, booze, and of course a whole lot of sin -- we're going to Vegas!"
END OF CHAPTER 4
Jen shrieked, and threw her arms around me. "Are you kidding? Vegas? I've never been!"
I nodded. "Even more reason to go. I go a couple of times per year -- it's an easy flight from San Francisco. Not as much fun to drive it, but we'll survive."
Jen was bouncing up and down like a kid in a toy store, bombarding me with rapid-fire questions.
"How long will it take from here?"
"About nine hours."
"Where will we stay?"
"I got us a room at the Mirage." I wasn't a high-roller by any means, but I dropped a couple of grand each time I went to Vegas, and that was enough to get me some decent offers from the casinos.
"Do they have a nice pool?"
"But we don't have bathing suits."
"Don't worry, they have stores too. They sell swimsuits, even. And I'm going to buy you the teeniest, tiniest, sexiest bikini I can find."
Jen blushed bright red at that, but didn't argue with me!
The drive through the rest of New Mexico and into Arizona went pretty quickly that day. We ate breakfast and lunch in the car, and didn't stop for any "funny business" along the way, though we were certainly liberal with our hands, touching and caressing each other frequently.
After lunch, Jen asked me from the passenger seat, "Why didn't you want to tell Mike where we were really going? Why'd you tell him we were going to the Grand Canyon?"
I sighed, my brow furrowing as I watched the road ahead. Finally, I answered. "Two reasons. One, I thought it sounded a little funny to say 'Hey, I'm taking your wife to Vegas!' Not that every trip to Vegas has to be down and dirty, and not that I really think Mike would suspect anything --"
"He wouldn't," she interrupted. "Not in a million years."
I nodded. "Still, somehow, it seemed -- I don't know -- safer to say that we were side-tracking to the Canyon, and more reasonable to need two extra days on the road."
Jen nodded her head. "I can see that. What's the other reason?"
I sighed. "OK, this is the one that makes me sound like an asshole. I was afraid that if I told Mike the truth, he'd want to jump on a plane Friday night and join us -- really join YOU -- in Vegas for the weekend. And I know he's your husband, and what we're doing is weird and not fair to him. But I'm not ready to give you back, yet."
Jen hugged my arm tightly, pressing her face against my shoulder, and we rode in silence for a long while after that.
We made a quick stop at the Arizona/Nevada border, just to see Hoover Dam and the new bypass bridge around it. Less than an hour later, we were pulling into Vegas. It was still daylight, so the Strip wasn't as impressive as it is at night, with the neon blazing. But Jen was still impressed as we drove up from the south end, her head swiveling back and forth as we passed Luxor's pyramid, Paris' Eiffel Tower, and the Roman colossus of Caesars Palace.
We pulled in to the valet driveway at Mirage, and gave the bags we'd need to the bellman. I stretched as I stepped out of the car, glad to be away from the driver's seat for the next 36 hours or so.
As we walked through the doors to the front lobby, I reached over and took Jen's hand, the first time we'd done that. She smiled at me shyly, and squeezed my hand.
Check-in was pretty quick and painless, and the $20 I slipped the clerk got us a Strip view room on the 26th floor. We rode the elevators upstairs, and Jen gawked at the view while I called down for our luggage. Once the bellman had delivered our bags (and been tipped accordingly, Vegas requires a large amount of $1 bills!), I stepped up behind Jen, who was still gazing out the window.
"So, I thought we'd do sort of a more casual night tonight, see the Strip a bit, and then maybe a fancier dinner tomorrow night. What do you think?" I asked her, one hand slipping around her waist.
She leaned back into me, and nodded. "I need to give Mike a quick call."
"OK. I'm going to change into some khakis, let's get a light dinner, and then we have an appointment downstairs in two hours."
We grabbed a burger at one of the casino's casual restaurants, and then sat at the bar playing video poker for a while, downing a couple of drinks apiece. Jen had tried to get me to tell her about our "appointment," but I refused.
When it was time, and again walking hand-in-hand, we crossed the Mirage lobby back to the front entrance. I'd thrown on khakis and a polo shirt, and Jen was wearing that same deliciously translucent skirt and a casual tank.
We exited out the Mirage's front door into the evening twilight and I glanced at the parked limos and cabs until I saw what I was looking for. When she saw that one of the limo drivers was holding a sign with my last name on it, she jerked me to a stop.
"That's for us?" she asked.
"Yep. A sight-seeing tour of the Strip. A nice way for you to see a lot of Vegas, since we won't be here that long."
Jen squeezed my hand with glee as the driver introduced himself, and opened the door for us. I delighted in the view of Jen's legs as she slid into the car, and she winked at me when she saw me looking.
The Strip limo tour was 90 minutes, designed to allow for gawking at the various hotels. The driver would stop by the Bellagio fountains during a show, talk about the features of various casinos, and then basically drive up and down the Strip until time expired. The ride also included a bottle of champagne, and the driver opened it for us and poured our first glasses before we pulled away.
I'd seen all of Vegas before, of course, but Jen loved it. She got gigglier and gigglier as the bottle of champagne disappeared, but she kept her face pressed to the glass as the driver talked about the various properties on the Strip.
Her constant bouncing around in the backseat was a joy to watch, especially as that little skirt slid up and down her thighs, and I felt my hands constantly drawn to her legs. She giggled and pulled away at first; then, as the champagne bottle got emptier and emptier, she started returning some of my caresses.
When her hand found the front of my khakis and began stroking, I pressed the button to raise the divider between us and the driver. He nodded at me silently, in the rear view mirror, and I heard the "click" as he turned his microphone off. Experienced Vegas limo drivers must understand when the "tour guide" portion of the ride is no longer necessary!!!
As the limo made a few more round trips up and down the Strip, the darkened windows prevented anyone outside from seeing the activities within. In short order, my khakis and boxers were around my ankles, and I was on my back on the limo's bench seat. Jen's panties were on the floorboard, and she was straddling my head, that skirt covering me, my tongue delving up inside her, and my cock in her mouth.
We sucked and licked each other to strong climaxes, Jen swallowing nearly every drop as I blasted down her throat.
As the limo tour drew to a close, we redressed, though I tucked Jen's panties into my pocket and refused, over her protests, to return them.
We returned to the Mirage and spent the rest of the night drinking, gambling, and teasing each other. I taught Jen how to play craps, and had her stand in front of me at the table, so I could press my hard cock against her from behind, and also fondle her soft, smooth thighs without being overly noticed. By the time the clock struck midnight, we were both in a state of sexual overload; all I could think about was Jen's pussy underneath that tiny little skirt.
On Friday morning, the sun was streaming in through the curtains we'd neglected to close the night before. I groggily raised my head and took stock of the situation.
Both Jen and I were bare-assed naked, my hand resting on one of her hips. My cock was sticky, my pubes matted, and I could see a streak of dried semen across Jen's pubis and lower abdomen as well. The sheets and bedspread from the bed were haphazardly scattered across the floor, along with several of the pillows and much of our clothing.
Jen's skirt, however, was hanging from one corner of the headboard.
At least there wasn't a tiger or baby in the room, I didn't think. And although it wasn't a scene from "The Hangover," I did have a hangover, though it seemed to be a pretty mild one. But I couldn't remember what had happened last night when we got back to the room. Had we finally fucked? The evidence was unclear.
As Jen woke up, she seemed to be in about the same condition I was. We put on the Mirage's robes and ordered a room service breakfast, and then tried to piece the previous evening together. Between the two of us, we remembered snippets, and tried to put them together like a jigsaw puzzle.
"You got on that hot streak at the craps table, remember? You rolled like twenty winners in a row, everyone at the table loved you and was cheering for you like crazy!"
"Yeah, and you were fondling my bare ass the whole time," Jen said.
"And then we played video poker for a while, and then I think some slot machines?"
"Right," she said. "And then I sat on your lap in that one bar over by the Beatles theatre."
"Yeah," I said, remembering that encounter vividly. "We were in that dark little corner, and no one could really see us. And you were grinding up and down on my cock, driving me nuts..."
"...and you had a hand up my shirt," Jen continued. "And then you said to me, 'I've going to take you upstairs --'"
"'--and fuck you like an animal,'" I finished for her. "I remember that part. So did I? Did we?"
Both of us paused, our eyes glazing over, as we struggled to recall what had happened. I think both of us realized it at the same time.
"Almost," Jen said. "I remember you were on top of me, rubbing your cock against my clit, slipping it almost -- almost into me," she said, cheeks reddening.
"Right," I said. "God, Jen. You were so wet, so hot, and I was so hard. And then -- at the last minute -- I didn't."
"We didn't," she corrected me. "Remember, we both looked at each other, and kind of shook our heads?"
"Right," I said, remembering. I'd avoided inserting my cock into Jen, and instead just slid it up and down her lips, rubbing my shaft against her clit, until we both came.
The room service waiter knocked on the door at that moment, and we paused our conversation while I signed his check and he got our meals set up.
As the door closed behind him, we both started to speak again, at the same time.
"It just didn't --" I said.
"I wanted to --" she said.
We smiled at each other ruefully, and I nodded for Jen to continue. "Last night, being so drunk, it just didn't feel right. I don't know if we're ever going to fu-- make love," she said, and I smiled at her choice of words. "But I don't think last night was the time to do it."
I nodded in complete agreement, and we dug into our breakfast.
After some food and some coffee, we each felt human again. We both took a quick shower, then headed downstairs in shorts and a t-shirt to see about some appropriate swimwear. It looked like a gorgeous late spring day in Vegas.
We found a women's boutique downstairs that had some very skimpy suits -- some of them were too revealing for Jen to wear in public, and I didn't push her on it. In the end, she picked out a lovely black string bikini, with very high-cut sides and what the tag called a "partial coverage" rear. With her long legs, that suit was going to look fantastic on her, and I told her so.
I bought her suit, and then we popped into the gift shop to find me a simple pair of trunks and a bottle of sunscreen. We headed back up to the room to change. Jen slipped into the bathroom and closed the door, while I changed into my new suit. When she came out around 10 minutes later, my jaw dropped.
The suit looked even better on her than I imagined. The bottoms were high, revealing almost her entire hip, the front panel just covering her mound. The rear panel left the lower half of each cheek bared to my hungry gaze. The two panels were joined together by very skimpy strings, tied at each hip.
Up top, while Jen wasn't huge, the suit displayed her tits very nicely, the string disappearing as a simple halter around her neck.
"Wow," I said. "You look amazing!"
"Thanks!" she said brightly, slipping a long t-shirt on over her suit. "Shall we go down to the pool?"
"I guess. Although I'd rather stay here and take that bikini off you. With my teeth."
Jen shivered slightly. "There might be time for that later. Now, take me to the pool!"
We spent a glorious day in paradise at the Mirage's pool. The weather was perfect, the crowds not too bad, the drink service plentiful and friendly.
Around lunchtime, we took a break from the sun and grabbed a sandwich inside the poolside cafe. Jen headed back up to the room to give Mike a call, and I stayed downstairs to give her the requisite privacy. To avoid thinking about the fact that I was quickly falling in love with another man's wife, I went back inside and made some arrangements for the evening's activities.
Back in the heat, we sweated away every last bit of the previous night's hangover, and spaced out this day's drinking a bit more. We were certainly well-buzzed by mid-afternoon, but not falling down drunk.
As the afternoon went on, our conversation flowed easily, and I again chastised myself for letting so many years slip away without contact. We were practically as close as siblings, and I promised I wouldn't let that happen again.
Of course, our new relationship as lovers certainly complicated things, and in the back of my mind, I wondered what would happen once we got back to San Francisco tomorrow.
Late in the afternoon, we'd slipped into the pool to cool off, standing in waist-deep water behind the artificial waterfall. We were talking about plans for tonight, when Jen stepped close to me, molding her body against mine, and kissed me. I instinctively stopped talking and wrapped my arms tightly around her, kissing her back, her warm and slick body pressed against mine. I felt my cock instantly stiffen, thrusting up through the wet fabric of my swimsuit, hardening against Jen's bottoms.
Her tongue danced around in my mouth, and I could taste the rum drinks she'd been sipping all afternoon. As we kissed fiercely, hidden from most other pool guests by the splashing waterfall, I realized that we hadn't really done much "making out" like this. Most of our encounters had been sudden and furious, and I found that Jen was a really good kisser.
When we finally separated, I pulled back slightly, enough to glance down at Jen's top and see it was slightly askew, one hard nipple peeking into view. She tucked it back into place and looked me in the eyes, my arms still around her lower back, keeping our pelvises pressed together.
"Wow," I breathed. "What brought that on?"
"I'm not sure," she said. "I was just thinking -- thinking about what would happen after tomorrow, and how it may not ever be like this again. How we may not be able to be -- together like this, at least in public."
My heart skipped a beat as she said that, leaving open the option that we'd be getting together in private, and I lowered my head to continue our kiss.
We stayed like that, making out behind the Mirage's waterfall, for a good 15-20 minutes. And although it was obviously sexual, our bodies moving against each other, we were also both content to leave it at a certain level. I didn't squeeze Jen's ass; she didn't slide a hand into my swimsuit.
It was, and will forever be, one of the most intensely romantic moments of my entire life.
END OF CHAPTER 5
Grinning at each other like a couple of school kids, we stayed in the pool for a little while longer after our "make out session." I leaned over to Jen and whispered in her ear that I had to stay in the pool for a bit, lest I be arrested for indecent exposure, stepping out of the water with a hardon poking out from my waistband! She chuckled, and caressed my cock for a few seconds, which didn't really solve the problem!
Eventually, I was able to climb out of the pool, and we gathered up our things and headed upstairs to our room, caressing and touching each other in the elevator. Our "romantic" interlude from a little while ago seemed to be reigniting on a more carnal level.
When we returned to the freshly-cleaned room, Jen pulled her t-shirt back off, and turned to face me. "I believe I heard you say something earlier about a fun way to remove this bikini. Something about using your tee--"
Her statement trailed off into a giggle as I leaped towards her, pushing her back onto the bed. True to my words, I tugged at the side ties of her bikini bottoms with my teeth, working each one loose. When they were both free, I teased her mound through the fabric with my lips and tongue, and then gently grasped the center of it with my teeth and tugged it downwards.
Expecting to see her patch of brown fuzz come into view, I stopped abruptly when I realized there was skin, and only skin beneath that bikini bottom.
Jen raised up on her elbows to look at me when I paused, giggling. "You like what you see? Or, what you don't see?"
I tossed the bikini to the floor. "Does this answer your question?" I asked, crouching between her widely spread legs and plunging my face between her thighs, licking her bare pussy all over. She smelled like chlorine, sweat, and her own natural odor, and I couldn't get enough.
"Oh god," she gasped. "I -- I needed to trim for that bikini and I couldn't get it even and so I decided to just shave it all -- aieeeee!" she shrieked, as I slipped a finger inside her tightness, my tongue and lips working on her clit.
It was intoxicating. I licked her through one, two, three shrieking orgasms before she pushed my head away and closed her thighs. Quickly, I stood and dropped my trunks to the floor, my cock hard and throbbing. I briefly thought about slipping it inside that bare little pussy, and I knew she wouldn't stop me.
Instead, I straddled her torso as I untied her bikini top and threw it aside. I slid my cock in between her tits, her skin still slick with suntan lotion, and she pushed them together around my dick, as my testicles slid across her warm skin.
I was so worked up, I don't think I lasted 10 strokes before my balls tightened and I shot my load all over her tits, chest, and neck. She was moaning and babbling incoherently through the process, and I leaned back on my haunches as I finished, stroking my cock for the last few spurts.
Unsteadily, I swung one leg over her body and climbed off Jen and the bed. I grabbed a washcloth in the bathroom and wet it with warm water. When I returned to the bed, Jen was asleep, snoring softly. I gently washed her chest and my crotch, cleaning up most of the mess, then climbed into bed beside her for an afternoon nap.
The bedside clock read 6:45PM when I woke to the sound of the shower starting. I climbed out of bed and joined Jen in the shower. We teased and washed each other a bit. By unspoken agreement, though, we were saving ourselves for later that night. I think we both realized this had been a very special trip, a very special day, and that tonight was sort of an exclamation point on this whole experience.
As we dried ourselves after the shower -- my eyes still drawn to Jen's bare slit -- she asked me, "So what's the plan for tonight? Are you going to feed me and entertain me before you ravish me later?"
I winked at her. "Don't you worry, we'll get to the ravishing. But our plans tonight depend on if there's something in here." I walked over to the room's only closet and opened it, pleased to see two plastic garment bags hanging there.
"Speaking of ravishing," I said, pulling out the longer of the two bags and beginning to unwrap the contents.
"What's that?" Jen asked curiously, then gasped when she saw it. "That's -- that's the dress I saw in the store this morning!"
The dress was a long, slinky evening gown, a deep green in color. Jen had eyed it while we were shopping for swimsuits that morning, and I encouraged her to try it on, "just for fun."
"You told me it fit like a glove," I said.
"Yes, but I also said it was $400 and there was no way I was buying it," Jen said, taking it from me and fingering the silky fabric reverently.
"You didn't buy it. I did. Now, get dressed, we have 8:00 dinner reservations, and have to make sure the shirt and tie I bought fit me."
"Ed, I can't take this. I just can't."
"Jen, let's say I threw the receipt away and it's not returnable."
"But I can't -- I can't take this home. What am I supposed to tell Mike, that I bought an evening gown at the Grand Canyon?"
"Hmm. Good point. So you leave it at my place, and then bring it home sometime, tell him you found it on sale. The bikini too. Or better yet, you leave 'em at my place permanently, and never wear either for him," I said, trying to keep the scorn out of my voice as I said the last word. I liked Mike -- it wasn't his fault I was in love with his wife.
Jen smiled at me, completely understanding my tone. "OK. I guess I can do that. But if I don't wear it for 'him,' when am I ever going to wear it for you?"
"I'll just have to get the bosses to send Mike out of town once in a while," I said, already thinking about the possibilities.
Three-quarters of an hour later, hand-in-hand once again, we headed down to the lobby and caught a taxi from Mirage to Paris. I'd been able to get a reservation at the restaurant in the replica Eiffel Tower. It sits about 1/3rd of the way to the top, and offers some glorious Strip views, including the Bellagio and its fountains, if you get a table by the correct windows. A surreptitiously-passed $50 bill ensured that we did.
Jen looked absolutely devastating in her new dress. It truly did fit her like a second skin, with slits on each side up to her hip, showing off her amazing legs to their best advantage. I saw several men turn to watch as she strolled through the restaurant on the way to our table. While she didn't have heels on, she didn't need them with her height, and her legs looked fabulous even in flat sandals.
Dinner was amazing, as were the views, and our conversation and wine flowed easily. Still, I couldn't help the bit of melancholy that settled over me. This was our last night together, and our discussion about the dress earlier reminded me that she had a husband waiting for her at the end of this trip. No matter what happened tonight, Jen and I were essentially on borrowed time, and it was running out. Would we be able to be together like this, ever again? Once she was back with her husband, would Jen even want to?
She could sense my mood, of course, and after we'd paid the check and finished our bottle of wine, she reached out and took my hand. "Eddie? I know what you're thinking."
"But for tonight, I'm yours, and all yours. No one else's."
I nodded again.
We rode the elevator down to the Paris casino, and stopped for a drink at the casino bar, dawdling on the video poker machines for a bit.
"So, do you want to try and see a late show, or play craps again, or something else?" I asked her.
"Something else," she said, gazing at me calmly.
We practically ran to the taxi stand.
We kissed and caressed all the way through the taxi ride back, in the lobby at Mirage, in the elevator, and down the hallway to our room. I could barely get her hands off the front of my pants to get the room key out. Once I had the door unlocked, she dragged me to the bed, hands scrabbling to remove my tie, then my shirt.
We each kicked off our shoes, and my hands found the zipper at the back of her dress. She shrugged it loose from her shoulders, and it fell to the floor. My eyes widened as I saw she wore nothing at all beneath the dress, and my cock got even harder. She sat on the edge of the bed, fingers flying over my belt buckle.
I pushed my pants, boxers, and socks off all in one jumbled mess, as Jen flung the sheets and bedspread to the floor. She climbed on the bed and stretched out on her back, knees up, thighs spread. I climbed onto the bed, my face heading for that deliciously bare, glistening pussy.
"No," Jen said, reaching down to grab my shoulders. "Fuck me."
"I will," I said grinning at her enthusiasm, but first I'm going to --"
"No," she said. "Fuck me now. You are fabulous at that, everything we've done has been wonderful, but all week I've been wondering what your cock would feel like inside me. And now I'm going to find out. Fuck me."
I couldn't argue with that logic. I knelt between her thighs. Fisting my cock, I rubbed the tip along her labia, running it up and down each side, as she bucked her hips. Jen reached out and grabbed at my ass.
"NO TEASING. FUCK ME," she said, and as my cockhead slipped into her tight hole, she humped upwards, capturing it. We both moaned with pleasure as my cock slipped inside her, and as I settled my body down onto hers, I slipped it out, then back in. She was hot and wet, and oh so tight.
Our lips met frantically, her thighs squeezing against my hips, as I pistoned slowly in and out of Jen's tight hole, a little deeper with each thrust. Her pussy felt so good surrounding my cock, and we fit together perfectly. Her hips came up off the bed to meet each of my strokes, and my balls slapped against her upturned ass.
I tried to pace myself, slow things down so I'd last longer, but Jen would have none of it. Her hands squeezed my ass cheeks, keeping me pumping, her words encouraging me to go faster, harder.
I was moving in and out of her at full speed now, her labia tight around my cockhead at each stroke, my balls tightening with each thrust, the finish line approaching more rapidly than I wanted. Jen was licking and sucking at my neck, hands grabbing at my ass cheeks, hips lifting off the bed.
"Jen, I can't stop -- I'm going to -- so soon --" I babbled.
"Give it to me Ed, oh fucking god give it to me, give me your cum, cum inside me, oh god it's so amazing, I want it, fuck me fuck me fuck me!"
Hearing the stream of dirty talk out of her mouth was all it took to set me off, and with a groan I buried my cock deep inside her and came, harder than I ever had before. Six, seven eight blasts of cum deep inside her, my groans and her shrieks bouncing off the walls, as I pumped her full of my semen.
"Ed, oh Ed, that's so hot, oh god, so good, ohhhhhhh," Jen moaned, as my orgasm drew to a close, and I buried my face against her neck, embarrassed to have climaxed so quickly.
Jen's hands squeezed my ass cheeks, and I kissed her sweaty neck, softly. "Jen -- I didn't mean for it to be so quick, I'm sorry, I --"
"Shhh, Eddie," she said. "It's not a race. We're not keeping score, and I also suspect that we're not finished for the night," she whispered. Moving her arms around my back, she starting rotating her hips, ever so slightly.
We kissed and necked as her hips rotated beneath my own, my cock still inside her, not softening any more, thanks to her motions. I'd never been with a woman who moved her hips in quite this way, and it felt amazing.
I slipped one hand between our bodies and pinched Jen's nipple, rolling it between my thumb and forefinger. She moaned appreciatively, and the pace of her hips quickened as we continued to kiss.
Shortly thereafter, my cock back to full hardness inside her, Jen rolled us over, straddling my hips.
"Now we're going to make love," she said, staring at me, biting her lower lip. She started moving her pelvis up and down, her warm and wet pussy sliding up and down my cock. I watched her, beautiful in the dim light of the room, her hands clutching her own breasts. Her face was contorted in pleasure, her eyes mostly scrunched closed as she rode me. She tilted her hips back and forth on alternating strokes, and I knew she was positioning herself for maximum pleasure. I did what I could to help, moving my hips in rhythm with hers, thrusting my cock up into her deeply. My own immediate needs sated, I concentrated on hers, trying to focus on every exquisite detail.
We made love -- and that's truly what it was, in every regard -- for the next hour or so. Jen rode me to a shuddering orgasm, shrieking my name as she came. She then took me into her mouth, licking our combined tastes from my cock, and sucking me to another amazing climax.
Afterwards, I wasn't sure I had another round left in me. But Jen's fingers and lips and tongue convinced me otherwise. She knelt on the chaise lounge in front of the window, her cute rear end pointing at me, spreading her thighs so I could access her bare slit. I moved behind her, hands on her hips, and pushed into her.
She moaned with pleasure, bracing her hands on the glass window, the lights of the Strip spread out in front of us. As I slammed in and out of her, she grunted out a question. "Do -- you -- think that all -- those -- people -- down there have any -- idea what we're doing?"
I grinned, and gripped her hips tighter as I held my cock motionless inside her for a moment. "I don't know. Maybe if you shriek a bit louder this time when you come, they'll hear you down there."
She laughed, and the sensation inside her body where we were joined sent thrills up my spine. She bucked her hips back at me, indicating that I should continue, so I did. Jen had two more small orgasms before I finally groaned out another release, my aching balls doing what they could to give me one more climax.
The clock on the nightstand said 3:22 AM when I heard Jen get up and use the bathroom. Nude, she slipped back under the covers next to me, and I turned my body towards her.
"You're awake, Ed?" she asked.
"Mmhmmm," I grunted. "Barely, anyway."
"Can we talk for a moment?"
This sounded serious, which brought me to full consciousness. I sat up in the bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Again, we'd neglected to close the curtains, and the neon from the Mirage's own marquee, along with the other signs along the Strip, let me see the serious look on Jen's face.
"I want to tell you -- I want to tell you why I've done things on this trip."
I nodded, unsure of what to say.
"Ed, what I told you on Wednesday was true -- I have always remembered what we did as kids, and I've always fantasized about going further. This trip has fulfilled a lot of those fantasies, that I've had for years."
"For me, too," I said.
She nodded. "But there's more. Eddie, I love Mike. I really do. But he is, without question, an absolutely lousy lover. He has very little interest in sex, and it is a serious problem in our relationship. Really, truly, I thought seriously about not coming with him to San Francisco, and separating or getting a divorce."
I frowned, even though a part of me took perverse pleasure in this revelation. "Surely, it's not that bad?"
"Eddie. You know how tonight, our first time, you came so quickly?"
I blushed. "I know, Jen, and I felt badly--"
She held up a hand. "Shush. I know exactly why, and I love that you were so turned on. But Eddie, Mike comes that quickly every time we have sex. And while I figured you would be good for another round--"
"--or two," I interjected.
She blushed. "Or two," she agreed. "Mike comes that quickly and would literally be asleep on top of me if I didn't roll him off me within 30 seconds or so. He has never been able to perform twice in a night, and he hasn't given me an orgasm in a couple of years."
"But even if he comes quickly, what about oral, or...?"
She shook her head. "He has put his mouth on my pussy maybe three times in the four years we've been together. It's why I didn't worry too much about shaving today. He's not likely at all to see it before it grows back in."
I wasn't sure what to say. "Do you think -- I mean, would therapy help or something?"
Jen looked down at the bedsheets. "I don't know. We've tried to talk about it, but he shuts down. He either doesn't have much of a sex drive, or he's secretly gay, or he's got someone else on the side, or something. Eddie, I just don't know what to do," she said, tears trickling down her cheeks.
I held out my arms, and hugged her. Her naked chest nestled against my bare torso, and I rubbed her back gently.
After a few minutes, she pulled back, nodding in gratitude to me. I asked her a question. "Was Mike always like this, Jen? Or is this something new?"
She sighed. "Looking back, I can see now that he was pretty much always like this. Sure, in the beginning of our relationship, he was hornier, more interested. But later, when we moved in together and then got married, I was on some medication that lowered my own hormones. So I think we were about at the same low level of interest. Ed, we didn't even screw on our honeymoon!"
"Wow, Jen. I'm so sorry for you, and I don't really know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything, Ed. I just wanted you to know, wanted you to know why I've been acting like a brazen slut on this trip. I just needed some release, some fingers other than my own," she said, blushing. "I never intended to take things so far, but I'm glad we did, and I will never forget this trip."
"Me neither," I said.
We were quiet for a couple of minutes, idling playing with each other's fingertips, when I asked the question I'd been avoiding.
"So, what happens now?"
END OF CHAPTER 6
In the pre-sunrise hours in that hotel room in Las Vegas, my gorgeous, nude cousin paused before answering. What was surely only a few seconds felt like a few hours, until finally she looked up and met my gaze.
"I don't know, Eddie. The virtuous part of me wants to be faithful to my husband, to write this trip off as a one-time lack of judgment, to move forward and see if Mike and I can make it work."
"But the honest part of me realizes that Mike and I may not be able to make it work. And now that you and I have opened this Pandora's box, and I'll know you're only a phone call away? It won't be easy to quit you, Ed. Not now."
I nodded, again. "Jen, I feel the same way. I know I shouldn't be sleeping with a married woman -- indeed, I've never done this before. But I also know that you and I have something special here. Married or not, my cousin or not, I want to be with you, in each and every way possible."
I didn't mention to Jen my suspicions that I was falling in love with her. That was certainly the last thing she needed to hear.
We talked a bit more about the situation, not reaching any conclusions or solutions, before nestling back into each other and falling asleep.
We were both quiet the next morning, lost in our own thoughts. We showered separately, and although I still stole glances at Jen's naked body, there were no carnal activities that morning. We repacked our small bags and checked out of the room. After grabbing a quick breakfast at the deli downstairs, we were on the road by 9:30, me behind the wheel, as we headed out of town on I-15. We sang along with the radio and generally talked of inconsequential things as the miles slipped away.
We were about an hour outside of Vegas when I felt Jen's soft hand resting on my knee, the way this whole adventure had started. She rubbed my knee gently, her movements sensual but not overly sexual. I turned to her and grinned, enjoying the contact.
"Ed? I've been thinking about what we said last night. I think -- I think I have to be fair to Mike. I think I have to try and be faithful to him."
My heart dropped into my feet, and I swallowed hard. I pulled my knee away from Jen's hand, and from the corner of my eye, I could see the startled look on her face as I did so.
"Of course, Jen," I said tonelessly. "He's your husband, and I'm your cousin. Obviously that's the right thing to do."
The next couple of hours were pretty awkward, and pretty silent. Between Barstow and Bakersfield, we stopped at a Burger King to pick up some lunch, and for Jen to take a turn at the wheel. When we were back on the road, I finished my lunch and wiped my hands. Taking a deep breath, I set one hand on Jen's leg, halfway between the hem of her shorts and her knee.
She glanced at me, eyes widening.
"Jen. I'm sorry for acting like a dick earlier. You are a married woman, and you have to live with your decisions. I have loved every second of this trip, the naked moments and the clothed ones," I said, chuckling. "You are an amazing person, and I just want you in my life any way I can get you. I'm thrilled that we'll be living in the same city, and I respect your decision. Again, I'm so sorry," I said, giving her smooth thigh one last gentle squeeze before pulling my hand away.
Jen's hands were clenching the steering wheel tightly, and her eyes were wet with emotion. She turned to me and gave me one silent nod, before returning her eyes to the road.
We were approaching the I-5 / I-580 junction, an hour or so outside of The City, when Jen took out her phone to call Mike. I was driving again. We'd had a pretty quiet car ride the rest of the way, though it was more of a comfortable silence this afternoon.
As I navigated onto the I-580, heading west towards Oakland and San Francisco, I listened to one side of Jen's conversation with her husband.
"Yeah, we're just getting on I-580. Ed says about an hour or so, so maybe like 6:30? I have to drop him off first."
"Oh. You are?"
"Oh. No, we didn't eat yet."
"OK. That's fine, I'll just get the key you gave Ed. Sure. I'll see you when you get home then."
"Love you too."
She thumbed the End button on her phone, and then looked at me. "Hmmm. You'd think he'd want to see his wife for the first time in four weeks as soon as possible. But he 'has plans' tonight, going out for dinner and drinks with some of the guys from work."
Jen shook her head. "I know, it's silly of me. I've been fucking around with you all week, so what right do I have to criticize, right?"
I shrugged. "I do have a spare key to your new place, but I don't have it with me. We'll stop at my place, drop off my bags -- and the things you want to leave at my place -- and then we'll ride over to your new home. Maybe we'll get some dinner on the way."
"Ed, you don't have to take me over to my place," she protested. "I'm sure the GPS will get me there."
I shook my head. "No way, Jen. You've never driven in The City before, don't know where you're going, plus it'll be nearly dark and you have all this stuff to take inside. No way."
Around 75 minutes later, the Chinese food we'd picked up on the way sat, ignored and cooling, on my small dining table.
My bags, and the garment bag containing Jen's dress and swimsuit from the Mirage, were tossed haphazardly next to the front door.
My sexy cousin was naked, spread-legged on her back, on my messy, and unmade bed. We both moaned in pleasure as my cock slipped in and out of that bare, hot and wet pussy. I knew -- and I think Jen knew at that point too -- that we'd be doing this again, and soon.
To Jen's credit, she lasted longer than I thought she would.
For the first couple of months, I hardly saw her at all. She barely replied to my Facebook messages, didn't return phone calls, didn't want to get together (Mike included) for dinner. I saw Mike a few times at work, and he said that things were a bit strained at home, both of them having to get used to living with each other again.
I was busy at work with multiple projects, had plans with friends and even a few dates, and so I tried (but mostly failed) to stop thinking about my sexy cousin.
In August, almost three months after Jen had moved to San Francisco, I got a text from her on a Thursday night that just said:
"R U HOME?"
I answered in the affirmative, and then had no reply. I texted her a couple more times, "What's up?" and "???", but still no reply.
Thirty minutes later, Jen was standing at my front door, a duffel bag over her shoulder. As soon as I let her in, she was in my arms, her lips crushed against mine.
We coupled frantically on the sofa in my living room, clothes haphazardly pushed out of the way. The sex was hard and fast, and in the afterglow, Jen explained.
"Mike's out of town tonight through Sunday," she said. "I tried, I really did try to stay away, Ed," she said. "But as soon as he called me from Denver, I was on my way over here."
Jen spent the weekend with me, going home in time to meet Mike when he arrived home from the airport.
That became our pattern. Mike traveled frequently for work, and whenever he did, Jen would basically move in with me. Once, when he was in New York for five days, we even made a return trip to Vegas, Jen once again wearing that sexy green dress.
Mike never called often when he was traveling, nor did he expect Jen to call frequently, which raised my suspicions that maybe he had a little extracurricular activity of his own. However, it made it easy for Jen and I to get multiple consecutive days together as lovers, so I didn't complain.
Jen would always feel guilty and withdraw a bit following these encounters, and it wasn't uncommon for me to not hear from her for a couple of weeks afterwards. I got used to it, though I didn't like it.
When Mike didn't have a work trip for a while, Jen and I would sometimes meet for a lunch hour "quickie" at my place during the work week. In one surreal instance, I'd just returned to the office when Mike popped his head in. I had a work-related conversation with him, all the while remembering that my cock had been in his wife's mouth a mere 20 minutes prior.
This lasted for a couple of years. I didn't like it, but I liked the alternative of not seeing Jen at all even less, so I put up with it. I dated occasionally during this time, had a couple of one-night stands, but nothing serious. I didn't feel the need to tell Jen about these encounters, and yet I always compared these women to her.
Inevitably, they came up short.
END OF CHAPTER 7
So, the status quo more or less continued for about two and a half years. Was it the ideal situation? No.
Dysfunctional and adulterous, was my relationship with Jen the best thing in my life, by far? Yes. I loved being around her, whether we were naked or not, whether we were alone or not. I wanted to be with her, all the time, and I knew I was in love with her.
While we pretty freely said "I love you" to one another, I wasn't sure about the depth of her feelings for me, and we didn't discuss them.
I did notice, when spending time with her and Mike together, that they weren't particularly affectionate with one another. Sometimes, Mike and I would leave the office together and meet Jen somewhere for dinner. I always gave her a hug when we met. Mike, on the other hand, would offer a simple "Hi" or "How was your day?" and I rarely saw them hug or kiss.
Certainly, I wondered about the status of their relationship. But when Jen and I had some time together on our own, I didn't ask. I didn't particularly want to have difficult or unpleasant conversations during our "alone time."
Everything changed, forever, about 2.5 years after that fateful road trip. On my 30th birthday.
I'd decided to throw myself a little party the night before my birthday, a gathering of friends, to celebrate and mourn the end of my 20s. I invited mostly people from work, with a few neighborhood friends thrown in, and of course Jen and Mike.
Once again, I was also trying to ignore unpleasant thoughts. Earlier in the week, I'd heard through the company grapevine that Mike had been offered a job in our Manhattan office. It was a promotion, one he deserved, according to people who worked closely with him. I hadn't seen him at work this week, and Jen hadn't answered my texts and emails, but I was dreading the fact that she was very likely moving across the country.
We were in one of our "incommunicado" phases, I hadn't seen Jen in a few weeks. I'd gone back to Atlanta at Christmas to visit my mother, while she and Mike had flown to Baltimore to visit his family. So I hadn't actually seen Jen in about a month.
It was a chilly January night when my motley crew gathered at the 21st Amendment, a well-known San Francisco bar and grill. We basically took over the lounge area, my friends and I draining several pitchers of their excellent microbrews.
Throughout the night, as I celebrated and laughed with friends, I couldn't help notice that Mike and Jen weren't there. I mentioned this, late in the evening, to a co-worker named Melanie. She knew Mike and Jen, and in fact she and her husband had gone out to dinner with Jen and I one weekend when Mike was out of town. Jen and I joked later that it was our one and only "double date" with another couple.
Melanie made a face when I asked her about them. "Oh, I didn't want to tell you this earlier, but Mike texted me. Said he and Jen had a fight, and weren't coming, and to tell you sorry."
"Oh," I said, frowning. Some of my enjoyment from the party dissipated into worry about Jen. I stayed for another hour or so, then made the rounds saying goodbye, thanking everyone for coming.
Melanie and her husband Rob exited the bar with me, offering to split a cab. As we rode towards my place, Rob and I on either side of the bench seat, Mel in the middle, I noticed that she kept fiddling with her phone. When I tried to be nosy and peek at her screen, she pulled it away, showing it to Rob, who laughed.
Figuring it was just one of those inside jokes couples often share, I ignored them. The cabbie arrived at my place first, and I gave Mel and Rob some cash for the ride.
As I started to get out, Melanie put a hand on my arm. "Ed?" she said. "It's after midnight. Happy birthday. I hope you get everything you want."
I nodded, though her statement was a bit hokey and weird. Saying goodnight to them both, I headed in to my apartment building, yawning as I rode the elevator to my floor.
I unlocked my front door and stepped inside. From the entranceway, it looked like I'd left my bedroom light on, apparently. That was unusual for me.
Also unusual was the soft female voice I heard drifting out of the bedroom a few seconds later.
"Happy birthday to you.
Happy birthday to you.
Happy birthday, dear Eddie.
Happy birthday to you."
My heart racing, I stepped quickly towards the bedroom, screeching to halt in the doorway.
Surrounded by candles on my dresser and nightstands, gorgeous in the flickering light, my cousin was stretched out on my freshly-made bed, propped up against the headboard. She was completely, utterly, and beautifully nude, except for a green ribbon tied low around her waist, the bow resting between her navel and her pussy.
Her completely bare, shaved pussy. Jen hadn't kept it shaved after our road trip, so I hadn't seen her completely bare since our original Vegas adventure.
I stood there, silent in the doorway, for a few moments. The combination of the alcohol in my brain and this utterly shocking scene in my bedroom ground my mental faculties to a shuddering halt.
Jen's gorgeous form illuminated by candlelight, my sexy cousin beckoned for me to join her on the bed. I kicked off my shoes and climbed onto the bed, settling my fully-clothed self on top of her nude, smooth, and warm body.
We kissed passionately as her hands roamed my back, my own fingers traveling up and down her sides, tracing the edges of her breasts. As we came up for air, I finally found my voice again. Sort of.
"How -- I mean why -- I mean what does this mean--"
Jen kissed me again, hard.
I pulled away a second time. "But how do we--"
She kissed me again, even harder. When we broke apart a third time, and I started to open my mouth again, she put her hand over it.
"Shut up, Eddie. There's plenty of time for all that later. Now, just shut up and fuck me."
Luckily, even though I was less than sober, I knew good advice when I heard it. So I shut up and fucked her. After stripping off my clothes, my cock slid easily into her warm wetness, and Jen gasped with pleasure and wrapped her long, smooth legs around my ass.
We coupled quickly but not frantically, and I was glad for the beer I'd consumed earlier, as it helped me last a bit longer. Her smooth, bare pussy felt amazing around my cock.
At the end, as we both reached our climaxes, Jen made me laugh in the middle of my own as she gasped out, "Oh! Happy birthday, Eddie! Happy fucking birthday!"
Afterwards, we nestled together, my cock sticky and softening, her pussy still drooling, as she explained to me what happened.
"Mike knew the job offer was coming, Eddie. We talked about it before Christmas. And I told him that I wouldn't move to New York. That I liked it here, had good friends, had a job here. And quite frankly, that I didn't think our marriage was worth another cross-country move."
"Wow," I said. "How'd he take it?"
"Angrily, at first," she admitted. "Wanted to know if there was someone else, if I was cheating on him. I said no, of course. But he actually spent the night in a hotel a couple of days before we left for Baltimore."
"Anyway, he came back the next day and we talked about it. In his heart, he knows I'm right. He's not any happier in this marriage than I am. We're basically just friends who live together at this point. We haven't been in love in a long time."
"Wow," I said again.
"So we went to Baltimore, and pretended everything was hunky-dory for his family, which was awkward as hell. We went out on new year's when we got back here, and had another long, really productive talk. If the job offer hadn't come through, we might have gone to therapy, to see if the relationship was salvageable."
"But then, this past Wednesday, he got the official letter of offer. It's a great promotion for him," she said.
I nodded. "That's what I heard."
"He can't turn it down. But I also can't move across the country for a dying marriage."
I nodded, again, my mind racing with the possibilities.
"So he flew out to New York first thing this morning. I was pissed at him for missing your party, but he said he'd monopolize all your friends by talking about his promotion, which is probably true. Plus he needs to find a place to live, he starts on February 1. So when he said he was going, I called Melanie right away."
"Melanie? What does she have to do with this?" I asked.
Jen snuggled her face against my shoulder, not answering at first.
She sighed. "Remember last year when we went to dinner with Mel and Rob?"
"Sure," I said. "Our 'double date.'"
She giggled. "Right. And remember how I had my hand in your lap under the table?"
I smiled. "Yeah."
"Well, apparently Melanie saw that. When she and I went to the restroom, she asked me about it. I denied it that night, said I was just reaching for my napkin or some nonsense like that."
I nodded, waiting for her to continue.
"But the next day, I called her, Eddie. I basically confessed the whole thing, told her what you and I had been doing for the past two years, the road trip, everything."
"You what?" I gasped. "You told my co-worker -- and your husband's co-worker -- that you've been messing around with your cousin for two years? I can't believe she never said anything to me, never acted differently."
Jen shook her head fiercely. "She never would, Ed. She promised me she'd take the secret to the grave. I think she probably told Rob, but she'd never tell anyone else."
We were both silent for a moment, before Jen continued in a small voice.
"I hope you don't hate me, Ed. I hope you're not mad at me. But this was eating me up inside, and I couldn't just keep it to myself forever. I know it's not natural to fall in love with your cousin, and we should keep it a secret, but I just had to tell someone."
"Jen? Did you just say that you're in love with me?" I asked, turning so I could look her in the eyes.
Her brown eyes widened, and she nodded, her gaze searching my own.
I kissed her, my tongue slipping into her mouth, my arms encircling her shoulders. I moved my mouth off hers and nestled it close to her ear, whispering softly. "Oh God Jen, I'm in love with you too, I have been since that road trip, and I want to be with you forever."
Tears leaked from her eyes as we hugged and kissed, and that led to the resumption of our earlier activity. Jen straddled me and rode my cock as I pinched and tweaked her nipples, and we woke the neighbors once again.
We fell asleep after round 2, and in the pale morning light, last night's candles burned down to the wicks, Jen picked up the conversation right where she'd left off.
"So. When Mike said he was flying to New York this weekend, I called Melanie. At first, I was going to show up at the party and throw myself into your arms. But then I thought that might cause too much of a scene."
I laughed, and nodded. "It surely would have, if only because more than half those people know that you are Mike's wife, and my cousin!"
"Right. So Melanie came up with the idea that I should just be here waiting for you when you got home. She also said she'd make sure you didn't get too drunk to properly appreciate the surprise!"
I laughed. "You know, a couple of times I thought a beer I was holding had mysteriously disappeared. Mel must have been stealing them!"
Jen nodded. "Probably so. We're going to have to take her and Rob out to dinner sometime, to properly thank them!"
"I love the sound of that, Jen. So you and I, we're now a 'we,' together, right?"
She blushed. "I guess I was being presumptuous. But I hope so!"
I nodded vigorously. "Definitely. Are you going to move in here?"
"Are you inviting me?"
END OF CHAPTER 8
And so, my beautiful second cousin and I moved on to the next step, a fully-realized relationship, out in the open.
I had a long talk with Melanie at work the next week, and we did take her and Rob out to dinner a couple of weeks later. She wasn't all that scandalized by the fact that we were cousins engaging in carnal activity -- the fact that Jen was a married woman was more of an issue for her. Jen admitted that she still felt guilty about that, and in fact saw a therapist for a while to help sort through her feelings.
Mike never knew, at least not at first. I only saw him one more time before he moved to NYC, when I went over to help him pack up his things and to move Jen's boxes and furniture to my apartment. We told him that she'd be staying with me for a while, at least until the divorce was finalized. Despite Jen's reluctance, he insisted on paying her alimony, with a clause in the agreement that it would end if she were to remarry.
(Around 6 or 7 years later, Mike came out of the closet as gay, and married an electrical engineer from New Jersey. He and Jen had stayed in sporadic touch over the years, and when he called to tell her about his new life and pending nuptials, she told him all about us. It was a two-hour, tear-filled conversation, but better to get all the secrets out at once, right?)
Of course, by that time, there were a couple of more secrets to reveal.
After Jen moved into my apartment, we slowly began acting like a couple in the "real world." I started bringing Jen to work functions. Many of the old-timers knew her as Mike's ex-wife, and a few people had known she was my cousin. But other than Rob and Melanie, no one ever discussed it with us. And there was enough turnover that we had plenty of new people who knew nothing about our history.
We kept our relationship secret from our families, of course. I was afraid that revealing it would permanently ruin our relationships with our mothers. My father had passed away the previous year, and Jen's dad had died while we were still in college.
Both moms knew about Jen's divorce, of course, and knew that she was living with me in the immediate aftermath. In about three months, though, she told her mom that she'd moved to her own place, and rented a post office box to continue the fiction. Again, the lies bothered her, and gave her more points of discussion with her therapist, I'm sure.
So a couple of times per year, we'd fly back to Atlanta together, then rent separate cars and go visit our respective mothers. We'd get together with the moms once or twice during the visit; but of course we couldn't act like anything other than nice, respectable cousins.
Once, desperate for physical contact, we fucked wildly and rapidly during a Christmas party, in the half bathroom at Jen's mom's condo.
Around 15 months after she moved in with me, I made Jen a nice candlelit dinner at home. After dinner, as we sipped from our third glasses of wine, I asked her if she knew what today's date was.
"Sure," she said. "May 11."
"And do you know what you and I were doing, on this date, four years ago?"
She thought about it, and then her eyes widened. "No way. This was the day we left Atlanta!"
"That's right," I said. "The day that would change my life forever."
I knelt on the floor in front of her, resting one hand on her smooth knee as the other pulled a black velvet box from my pants pocket. "Jennifer Beckett, will you marry me?"
After much discussion, later that night and into the next week, we decided to elope and get married in Las Vegas. That town meant a lot to us, and we'd returned a couple of times since.
We had a quiet little ceremony in the Mirage's wedding chapel late in the summer, just us, the officiant, and Melanie and Rob.
In the weeks leading up to the wedding, Jen and I had talked a lot about kids. We'd done the research, and found that there weren't really genetic concerns about second cousins making babies. The genetic risks, even for first cousins, weren't really any greater than those of the general population.
So Jen stopped taking her birth control pills about six weeks before our wedding, and that's how it happened that our first child was conceived in a hotel suite in Las Vegas.
Three months later, Jen squeezed my hand tightly as our Delta 757 descended towards a landing in Atlanta. We'd decided, before she stopped taking the Pill, that pregnancy would be the ultimate tipping point. Once there was a future grandchild involved, we had to tell our mothers, consequences be damned.
After the plane landed, we headed for baggage claim. It was the Sunday before Thanksgiving, and so of course Hartsfield was a nuthouse. Neither of us minded the time it took to get our bags and our rental car, as it delayed the impending conversation we were dreading.
As I finally navigated the maze of I-85 away from the airport, Jen called her mom. We'd invented one last fiction, that it was too expensive for us both to rent cars on this trip. So we'd rent only one, I'd drive with Jen to my mom's house, and her mom would come over to pick Jen up.
When we parked in front of my mom's condo building in Decatur, I turned off the car and looked at Jen. "Are you ready for this?"
"Are you nauseous?" Jen's morning sickness had subsided as of a couple of weeks ago.
"Yes. But not from the baby."
I took her hand and squeezed it. "Let's do this. No matter what, I'll always love you."
We sat next to each other, though not touching, on an uncomfortable couch in my mom's living room, the mothers sitting in easy chairs facing us. We'd asked Jen's mom stay for a while, so we could "catch up."
I'd offered to speak first, to break the news, but Jen said she had to do it. After discussing it with her therapist, I think she needed to be the one to take the first step.
She did it simply, and bravely. "Mom. Carol," she said, looking at each one of them in turn. "Ed and I are married. We've been lovers for years, and now I'm his wife, and I'm carrying his child."
I reached over and took her hand, and both of the mothers glared at my hand as if it were a snake.
To say there was chaos for the next few minutes would be putting it mildly.
"Pregnant? But she's your cousin!"
"This is unnatural."
"The baby will be deformed."
"How could you do this to each other?"
"How could you do this to us?"
"Oh, thank God your father isn't alive to see this."
"What am I going to tell your Aunt Clarice?"
Variations of those phrases went on for about ten minutes or so, with neither Jen nor I able to get a word in edgewise. In turn, each of the mothers stormed out of the room. When my own returned, she held two highball glasses with ice and what I suspected was scotch, and she handed one to Susan. They both drained them, silently, staring at us.
Finally, with a chance to speak, I raised one hand. "Look. Mom, Susan. I'll make this very simple. Jen and I are in love, we have been for a long time. We're not doing anything illegal or immoral. I love her, she loves me, we're married, and we're having this baby. If you two want to be involved in this grandchild's life, you'll have to decide if you can accept us in this new way."
The glares softened a bit, and from that point on, we were able to discuss things as rational adults, more or less. We'd decided ahead of time that we wouldn't lie to our mothers, that this conversation would be completely open and honest. They were both of course scandalized by Jen's infidelity, of course. But it was tempered somewhat by the fact that Susan had never really liked Mike; and once Jen explained about the shortcomings in their relationship, the last of their anger faded away.
Later that night, Susan and Jen had left to go back to Susan's condo. We decided, as a group, that we'd each spend tonight at our mother's place, then Jen and I would move into a hotel room for the subsequent nights. (My mom had put it thusly: "I love you both, and maybe I can get used to this, but I can't have you doing -- doing -- things in my house. I just can't.")
My mom was speaking a bit more openly after two more glasses of scotch, and she said to me, "You know, Eddie. When you and Jen were about 12 or 13, I remember a sleepover, back at our old house on Palmview. I got up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, and checked on you guys in the living room."
"You were both asleep, but you had your hand under Jen's top, resting on her chest. She didn't really have any breasts yet, but it looked for all the world like you were feeling her up!"
"So I went back to our room and woke your father," she continued. "I was sure he'd want to wake you up, punish you, make Jen take the spare room and send you back to your bedroom, or something."
"Maybe he was just half-asleep, but he shrugged and said he didn't care. 'Let them experiment, Carol,' he told me. 'Eddie could do a lot worse.'"
I smiled. "That part certainly is true."
Mom raised her glass to me in a toast. "That it is, Eddie. And somehow, I have a feeling that your father, God rest his soul, might have understood this fucked-up situation better than I do. Of course, he was always a damn horndog, so I guess you come by it honestly."
My mom and I laughed together for a long time after that.
So that was basically the last major hurdle in our relationship. We left it up to our mothers which of the extended family to tell, and eventually, most of them found out.
Both Susan and my mom came to San Francisco for the birth of our daughter, six months later. Jen had a textbook pregnancy, and Anna was born healthy and noisy right on her due date.
Three and a half years later, we gave her a little brother named Jake as a Christmas present. We did divulge to Jen's OB/GYN, and to the kids' pediatrician, that Jen and I are second cousins. Neither doctor seemed shocked, and I suspect that our situation isn't all that uncommon. Both kids are strong, happy, smart, and healthy, with no sign of any developmental or genetic condition.
Both of our mothers are involved with our children's lives, as much as they can be, given the geographical distance. After Anna was born, Jen and I bought a three-bedroom house in the Richmond district. In the summertime, my mom comes and stays with us for two or three months, to escape the Atlanta heat. Our kids love "Grandma Camp," as they call it.
Once a year, Jen and I always take a road trip somewhere. We'll leave the kids with Rob and Melanie (who now have three of their own) or with my mom, if she's in town. Sometimes it's just up to Napa Valley, or another short trip like Sacramento. Other times, we'll take a longer drive, to San Diego, or Vegas.
We always wear shorts (or a skirt for Jen), regardless of the weather. And inevitably, at some point early in the trip, the passenger's hand will reach out to make contact with the driver's leg, teasing and tickling, evoking memories of that very first trip, so long ago.
Please let me know what you thought of this story -- if you loved it or hated it, let me know. This is the only way for me to know what people think of my stories. I do try and write back to every person that sends a comment on my stories.
Due to an overload of spam, the ASSTR automated feedback form has been disabled on all of my stories. You can email me directly at PaulStory77@NOSPAMgmail.com. Of course, remove the "NOSPAM."