From: rdragon@ix.netcom.com(***)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Kissing Cousins
Date: 7 Jun 1996 18:06:22 GMT

			   Kissin' Cousins
				  by
			     Zipper Bird

	When I was ten, I spent a week at Uncle Don's cottage on Lake
Ontario.

	There were a lot of cookouts in the backyard since the tin
roof of the cottage made it unbearable to light the stove on a sunny
afternoon, or even be in the cottage at that time of day. One hot
August afternoon, Uncle Don was bent over the hamburgers and hotdogs
as they sizzled away on the grill, trying to do them to perfection for
the hungry Fowler clan.

	My three cousins, Terry, Rick and Bruce seemed like grown men
although they were fifteen, sixteen, and eighteen years old
respectively. I was only ten at the time and small for my age. Bruce
had red hair, freckles and I didn't like him especially. He would mess
my hair up, rubbing the top of my head vigorously like his fist was a
large cigarette he was putting out on my head. Rick used to do an
Indian burn on my arm - he was the sadistic one - but'd always let me
do one on him which was nearly impossible since my fingers didn't
reach around his massive forearms well enough to cause much harm. Then
there was Terry. Terry was the handsome one. He didn't even look like
a Fowler. He had olive skin whereas the others were pale.

	He had a dark hairy body and luminous blue eyes. Terry played
this game with me where he'd wrestle me and make me sit on his lap
against my will. The smell of his skin and the feeling of his hairy
arms wrapped around me would make me giggle and grab him tighter,
burying my nose in his shirt, face pressed up against his hard
stomach.

	One morning I was sitting on a rock at the side of the lake
watching Terry get out of the water after his morning swim. His floppy
wet bathing suit clung to his genitals, which were clearly outlined
and looked enormous to me.

	"Whadda ya lookin' at?" he asked me, smiling out of the corner
of his mouth revealing white straight teeth. "You got hair on your
chest already," I said, as I pointed to the beginnings of a
substantial hair pattern that ran from his navel to his neck. "Oh, I
thought you wuz lookin' at somethin' else there for a minute," he said
with a grin, looking at my eyes until I finally had to look out toward
Bass Island, or be trapped in the accusing intensity of his stare and
what it meant.

	He came up behind me, still wet from his swim and held me in a
bear hug saying, "You just wait a few years and I'll have somethin'
else to show ya besides the hair on my chest." I could feel him press
his crotch against me and as I struggled to free myself from his grasp
I pushed my rear up against it, backing into him hard. "Watch out you
little devil, you'll break my nuts," he said, as he jumped back,
finally letting go of me. I ran, with him chasing me up the hill.

	Seven years passed and I didn't see Terry once during that
time. Instead of vacationing on Lake Ontario, we rented a cottage on
Cayuga Lake, a finger lake, closer to our home in Syracuse, and closer
to the nursing home where my grandmother, on my father's side, was
kept. Grandma finally passed away and the Fowler clan decided to have
a get together at their cottage and invited us.

	Bruce and Rick were working in Watertown and only came out to
the cottage on weekends. Terry just graduated from State College at
Potsdam, where he studied math and was planning to go on to
engineering school in Albany on a sports scholarship. He was the star
soccer player at Potsdam and my uncle would send us clippings from the
local paper in Potsdam.

	I had been running track in high school. Now, at the end of my
junior year, I'd won a sectional competition in the mile but was only
fourteenth in the state finals. My coach kept telling me I would make
a terrific cross country runner, or even marathoner, but I was too
lazy. I thought about trying to work into longer distances during the
summer and switch to cross country in my senior year.

	Rick and Bruce, my two older cousins had girlfriends and were
often getting into trouble, wrecking their cars and things. They
weren't there when we drove up on Monday and got out of our Chevy to
greet relatives. I hadn't seen my uncle, aunt and Terry in seven
years. I wondered if Terry would even remember me, as I stiffly
embraced my aunt and uncle and peered at him out of the corner of my
eye.

	Uncle Don, who had put on about twenty pounds in the gut, put
his arm around Terry's shoulder and said, "Terry is our good boy, he
does his college work and is going to become an engineer - he don't
mess `round with girls." I laughed out loud and felt less awkward as I
watched Terry's face turn red.

	There he was, a man of twenty-two, standing next to his
father, squirming, and as handsome as hell. His eyes looked like
they'd become even bluer, and a shadow of a thick beard covered his
face. Above the collar of his faded maroon T-shirt, which said POTSDAM
on it in big white letters, a tuft of thick dark hair stood out.

	I wanted to run up to him and have him wrestle with me like he
did when I was ten, but found myself extending my hand sheepishly. He
grabbed it and shook it a little too vigorously, still trying to
recover from the embarrassment of his father's comment about his lack
of involvement in girls. "I hear you're a runner," Terry said to me.
"Well, maybe we can run together in the mornings - I have to do it to
stay in shape for soccer you know," he said smiling the same crooked
engaging smile he had seven years ago.

	"Great," I said nonchalantly, trying to contain my enthusiasm
for the idea. "We can go for a swim afterward to cool down," he said.
I remembered his morning swims and reveled in the idea of doing it
with him.

	Terry and I were put out on the porch to sleep the first
night, on a sleeper sofa that folded out in two parts. I got settled
on my half, looking up at the beams in the roof to avoid looking at
what I wanted to look at - Terry taking off his shorts and shirt, as
he crawled in beside me.

	"This isn't too fuckin' comfortable is it," he muttered in a
low voice, laughing slightly. It shocked me to hear him say "fuckin",
but I liked the way it sounded. "No, it's a bitch, but what-a-ya gonna
do?" I whispered back. He laughed and said, "Where'd you learn to talk
like that boy, I'm gonna tell your mother you said `bitch'"

	"Oh yeah fuckin' soccer jock, I'm gonna tell your father you
said fuckin," I whispered gritting my teeth and trying to sound as
tough as possible. Then he grabbed me in a playful choke hold and
said, "You little fucker, I'll fuckin beat the fucking shit out of you
if you tell my fuckin father anything." I could feel his warm hairy
skin next to mine, and his familiar scent swept over me.

	Something warm and fleshy bumped against me through his
underwear as I bit his arm to make him let go. Then I heard my aunt's
voice call, "Is everything out there all right boys?" and in a lower
tone, "I hope they are getting along okay."

	Relaxing his grip on me Terry said, "We'd better get some
sleep if we're going to run at seven o'clock." We both turned away
from each other and tried to pretend we were sleeping. I listened to
his breathing and could tell he, like me, was having a hard time
falling asleep.

	In the morning we headed out running together, stride for
stride, first along the lake shore and then into a field that lead
onto a farm road. Terry wore an athletic shirt and his chest hair
stuck out all over. His legs were hairy too and he had on a pair of
deep maroon shorts that said POTSDAM over the left leg.

	We chatted a little but after a while, I started to push the
pace and noticed his breathing sounding labored after a few miles.
Conversation stopped.

	As we headed back into a field surrounded by trees, Terry
started muttering and finally stopped, bending over in exhaustion and
panting like a dog.

	"Okay... okay you little ba... bastard... so you can run a
helluva lot faster than I can. I'm going to beat the... the shit out
of you," he said. And in a calmer voice he said, "Come here," still
breathing hard.

	As I got near him I could see that sweat was dripping off his
face and soaked shirt. He grabbed my legs and we both rolled to the
ground. After struggling for a little while, I let him pin me, him
sitting on my stomach, both panting, his strong hands holding my arms
to the ground. Our eyes met and his look of anger and hurt pride
turned to something else. His breath was like an intoxicating wave
that swept over me.

	The look in his eyes, the smell of his clean fresh sweat made
me put my hand behind his neck and draw his mouth to mine. We kissed
long, hard and deep, almost like we were trying to suck life giving
water from each other's mouth.

	Even with his weight on top of me, I could feel the bulge in
his shorts growing harder. He drew away gently and said in a low
voice, "If you ever tell, I'm gonna kill you," I said simply, "I want
you Terry, I want you bad."

	We took off our shirts, shorts and jock straps as we were
rubbing against each other. I started to stroke his thick chest hair,
licking him all over up to his underarms and feeling with my hands
down to his rippled stomach and around to his firm ass. I bent my head
down to see his beautiful thick cock, the large purple head straining
toward me, glistening with precum.

	Moving down to it, I took it in my mouth, holding his large
soft balls in my hand. He stroked my hair and repeated my name over
and over as I sucked like a baby on his dickhead. He wet his finger
and gently worked it up my ass. "I wanna have you Timmy baby," he said
as if in a trance. "I gotta get inside of you."

	He gently raised my legs, kissing my mouth as he pressed his
cockhead against my virgin ass hole. I was insane with lust and wanted
him to fuck me more than I'd ever wanted anything before. It hurt a
little as he first entered but soon he was riding smoothly, all the
while our mouths sucking hungrily at each other.

	My cock stood straight up and I came as he was fucking me and
I got another hardon immediately and came again just as he came inside
me. He licked the shiny cum off off my chest and sucked on my dick
some more and I came a third time. We lay in the grass, still panting,
kissing and touching.

	I felt transformed. I had feelings of ecstasy that I'd never
felt before. Finally, after holding and petting each other gently for
a long time, we stood up and put our clothes on.

	We turned toward each other and stood looking into each others
eyes, my hand in his, saying nothing, and then headed toward the water
for a swim.

	That summer was the best in my entire life. My parents went
back to Syracuse and I spent the whole summer with Terry. We pitched a
tent in the woods a good distance from the cottage and slept on the
same air mattress, holding each other. His running got better and my
fucking improved to a point where I often demanded to be on top.

	When the summer finally drew to a close, we parted cheerfully
for show, but were screaming with pain inside. He went to Albany for
graduate school and I went back to begin my senior year of high school
in Syracuse. He wrote to me every week and after writing about
classes, the soccer team, some of his friends, he wrote nearly a page
of encoded writing, in a code he gave me the key to.

	In one letter he wrote: "The taste of your skin and mouth is
always on my mind... I feel as though my brain will incinerate with
lust until I can have you here beside me every night."

	During my senior year, I ran long distances, even in winter,
to stop myself from thinking about Terry every minute. Even when I was
running though, I'd pretend each step was bringing me closer to Terry.
I applied to only one college and was accepted.

	The family was delighted that I was attending the same school
as Terry, so he could take care of his younger cousin.

			       The End