Sex & Banter Between Cousins

Good god, I couldn't believe I was staring at it. Pink. Pretty. Beautifully flared petals. I could already taste notes of honey on my tongue.

The cold bathroom tile was unwelcoming when I dropped to my knees. But one look back at her tantalizing slit and I swelled with enough body warmth to withstand a blizzard.

I glanced up at her, and she had the lens of her phone focused on me. I felt a slight twinge of stage fright. Couldn't say I'd ever been filmed giving oral before. But I guess there was a first time for everything. To be fair, a recorded sex act was the least eye-opening of firsts about to happen right now.

This was crazy what I was about to do, whom I was going to do it with. And yet...

I was going to enjoy it.

HOURS EARLIER

"Sir, I can assist you here," a hotel worker said to me.

I slogged toward the reception desk, my soaked jacket leaving a trail of rainwater behind me.

"How can I help you today?" he asked.

"I was supposed to be staying at The Orchid," I said. "But they evacuated guests due to weather damage. They gave me a replacement voucher that's valid here."

I slid forward a paper slip on the counter, but he instantly slid it back.

"Sir, we've taken in a lot of displaced guests today. We're booked to capacity. Apologies."

"What, seriously?!" I said, enraged. "I've already been to three other hotels. I'm not going back out there again. The storm's crazy outside!"

"Sir, I'll get the concierge. Maybe he can help you find accommodations elsewhere."

"He can stay with me," a random voice beside me said.

I turned to face my interloper, and my eyes inflated to balloons. It was my cousin, Belle, standing next to me, smiling brightly. She turned back toward the hotel staffer.

"You can add Christopher Adelson here to my room," she said. "Suite 302."

"Not a problem, ma'am," the hotel worker said. "Your room is a single. Will you be needing a rollaway bed?"

"No, that's o—," Belle said, stopping short of finishing her sentence. She then looked at me for my take on the matter, as if my opinion should've held any weight here. I was the one intruding on my cousin's courtesy. I nodded yes to her for the rollaway.

She turned back to the staffer. "Sure, a rollaway's fine."

I silently mouthed thank you to Belle, still in shock she was actually in my presence. What were the odds my cousin and I would be in a foreign country at the same exact place and time?

ONE
Banter with Belle

After settling matters at reception, Belle invited me to dine with her. She'd been on the way to the hotel's restaurant before she'd spotted me struggling for shelter.

At the restaurant, I sat across from her, my suitcase slotted below the tabletop, my mind still in disbelief.

"The world's a small place, eh?" Belle said. "Long time no see, Chris! How've you been?"

"Better now, thanks to you," I replied. "What's new, Cuz? How's the fam?"

"Good! Miss them lots!" she said. "And how's Marie? Storm aside, you two enjoying your vacation so far?"

"Um..." I hesitated, not expecting to have to answer a question like this on my trip. "Thanks again, Belle. For swooping in, letting me crash in your room."

"Of course, Cuz. What good's family if we can't be there for each other, right?"

"Amen to that," I replied, bowing my head with prayer hands.

Growing up, I wouldn't have classified my and Belle's cousinship as particularly close. We were born the same year, but in truth, I was closer to her younger sibling, Johnny. At family parties, it wasn't uncommon for me and Johnny to team up on his sister. I remember one time, we got Belle pretty good with a flurry of water balloons. Then she got her payback on us later, polluting our Mountain Dews with mustard. Ah, the good ol' days of grade school.

As the calendars turned, so did Belle's beauty. I noticed it. Rest of the extended family did too. With her looks and body type, it was clear why the modeling profession suited her. It was a perfect fit. And my cousin, brave and ambitious as she was, had been more than eager to pursue it as a career.

When Belle left home to chase her dreams, a screwy thought had struck me then, one that was weird to admit. All I knew was that I couldn't have been the only Adelson who found it oddly arousing, to be related to someone who could someday tent thousands of trousers all over the world.

"So what brings you to Phuket?" I asked her. "Another modeling gig, I assume?"

She nodded. "I was supposed to have a beachy photoshoot today, but the weather gods obviously said nope to that. Now I'm lodging here for a night, hoping the skies clear up tomorrow."

"Forecast's not looking promising," I said. "It's basically gonna ruin half my trip."

"Wait, so where's Marie?" she asked. "She's welcome to stay in my room too."

I tensed up. "Yeah, um... It's a solo trip for me."

"Oh, I see... Everything okay?" she asked delicately.

I sighed, debating whether to lay out my whole relationship drama to Belle. My cousin and I shared a bloodline, sure, but we'd never shared our personal problems with one another.

"I just needed space," I explained, eyes looking off to the side. "Told myself: Why not a sunny beach getaway to Thailand? Then I get here and this storm greets me with a fat slap to the face. Hilarious, huh?"

"Hey, on the brighter side, I'm glad I ran into you when I did," she said. "Can you imagine the headlines if I hadn't? Foreign man can't find shelter, dies on rainy streets of Phuket." She giggled. "No lie, our dads would probably be cracking jokes at your funeral about it, their demented way of coping."

"Tragically true." I chuckled. "Genuinely, Belle, I owe you one for saving me."

"Funny how I've got a knack for that," she said. "Remember that one Fourth of July party at your parents' house? I shouldn't have had to warn you about lighting fifty fireworks in your backyard. You're technically the older one, dummy."

The nostalgia hit me like a drug. "I remember getting so annoyed with you, that you took my fireworks away and snitched on me to my parents."

"Chris, some of the fireworks were literally pointed the wrong way! Your house would've been in flames. Your parents would've thrown you in the fire to boot. Danny would've become an only child."

"Okay fine," I replied, conceding the point. "Doesn't change the fact that I still wanted to suplex you so hard that day. Straight onto my mom's coffee table."

"Suplex," she said, shaking her head. "You and my brother were so into that stupid 'professional wrestling' crap. It was all fake, and you two knew it too."

"Are you serious, Belle?" I edged forward in my seat, eager to bite back. "Pro wrestling is real! Those hard falls on the mat can't be faked. They hurt just the same!"

"Sure, but the rest was so cheesy and scripted. Basically a soap opera for gullible boys and grown men. Yawn!"

I rolled my eyes. "I should probably be nicer to you since we haven't seen each other in a while. But I really want to suplex you right now."

Belle smiled. "You could try, but I'd take you down before you could. Chokehold you in the Octagon!"

I let out a buzzer sound. "Wrong sport! That's for mixed martial arts."

"Duh, I know! I'm saying MMA's the real sport, dummy! Not stupid 'pro' wrestling!"

Belle had the biggest smirk on her face, and I wished I had a water balloon to hurl at her right now. I opted for non-violence.

"Fair enough, Cuz," I said, offering her a handshake of truce. She shook my hand, then playfully slapped it away.

We enjoyed some delicious satay and papaya salad. When our waiter eventually handed us our bill, I lunged forward to snatch it from Belle's hands.

Paying for her meal was the least I could do. Not only had she offered to share her lodging, she'd completely reversed my spirits. I sure felt a lot better than I did an hour ago. I had a cot to sleep on for the night, plus a welcome distraction from heartbreak.

***

After dinner, I rolled my suitcase beside me, following Belle as she walked down a corridor of rooms. I couldn't stop my eyes from sticking to my cousin's backside. High praise to whoever made white leggings an acceptable thing to wear in public.

Belle clearly had a butt that she worked on at the gym. Had legs as long as bamboo too, but with athletic thighs that reminded me of volleyball players.

Part of me tried tempering my titillation, knowing she was family. The other part, more readily, started doing some rationalizing. Belle and I didn't grow up in the same household. Our interactions were mostly confined to birthdays, family parties, weddings, and funerals. If our respective parents had lived in separate countries, I may have never met Belle at all. And if that were the case, I could be more easily forgiven for thinking how attractive she was.

Plus, let's face it, Belle was a professional swimwear model. Objectively, it was only natural for one to be aroused by a bangin' body and gorgeous face. Like some lawyer building a case, I started conjuring all the cultures in the world that didn't condemn attraction to first cousins. But then again, who the hell was I even going on trial against? In my mind, there were way more disturbed individuals out there in the world.

My conscience washed away my perversions as Belle welcomed me into her suite, my refuge for the night. There was a single queen-sized bed and a rollaway cot alongside it.

"Night's still young, Cuz," she said. "Wanna go for a swim?"

"Torrential downpour outside, Belle..."

"No, this hotel's got a nice indoor pool. You'll like it."

Without warning, Belle then peeled her white leggings down.

I was left staring at her in her panties, a matching white color. Belle was ten feet away, acting like it was totally normal to be half-naked in front of me. We'd never changed in the same room before in our lives. Was she simply this comfortable around family?

"Do you need privacy?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Belle... You're changing with your underwear on..."

"These aren't panties, silly. It's a bikini bottom."

Was it really? Sure looked like panties to me. But maybe my filthy brain preferred serving me illusions. In any case, who was I to tell a model what was or wasn't swimwear.

Belle then removed her sweater, up and over her head, followed by her t-shirt. She was left sporting a purple bra—or, I guess, a bikini top?

If I was being the objective red-blooded male I was, I'd admit that my cousin filled out bikini cups quite nicely. Her juicy cleavage was broadcasting radio signals, and my crotch was carefully trying to keep the volume knob static.

She grabbed a colorful cover-up to throw on, then glanced at me. "Chris, you going to change or not? Thought we're going to the pool."

"Uh, I didn't pack swim trunks," I confessed. "Was gonna buy some here."

"Just wear your underwear then," she said so casually.

"Yeah, not sure that's gonna fly." I lifted the hem of my shirt, flashed her the waistband of my white briefs. "My undies are too thin, if you catch my drift. Stuff's gonna show when it's soaked."

Belle giggled as she tossed me a pair of basketball shorts. "Here. I wear these to sleep. You can wear them over your adorable tighty-whities."

I chuckled. Welp, guess I was going swimming then... My cock suddenly twitched at the thought of a busty bombshell doing the backstroke so close to me... Then I deflated when I remembered that that bombshell had also been the annoying girly girl, the one who'd incessantly worn too much pink back then, even on her braces...

My dick was so confused.

TWO
Racing for Gold

The hotel's indoor pool was cozily heated and surprisingly unoccupied. With no witnesses around, I felt less guilty stealing glances at Belle in her bikini body.

"Chris, I'm feeling competitive tonight. Let's have a race!"

"I'm listening... Winner gets what?"

"What do you want?" she innocently asked.

I paused for a second. The deviant in me wanted to tell Belle that if she lost, she'd have to strip off her so-called bikini. Her punishment would be to skinny-dip, and I'd get to revel in a scene that any man would kill for. Sadly, I was too sober to suggest something so salacious. She was, at the end of the day, still my cousin—so said my conscience.

"Alright, how about this," I said. "If I win, I get to suplex you into the pool."

She erupted in laughter. "Really, Cuz? You sure we're the same age?"

"Just hurry up and spit out your demands. I've got a race to win."

"Okay, so if I win," she said, fingertip tapping her chin, "you have to lose the basketball shorts."

I shot her a look of concern, surprised by her forwardness (surprised too that she'd more or less matched my deviant leanings).

"Cat got your tongue?" she said. "Come on, you're still wearing your underwear under those shorts. You won't be nude, buddy. Don't be such a buzzkill."

Belle's tone was clearly mocking, a marked return to our banter. Fuck it then. I was game.

"You're gonna get suplexed so hard," I said. "Let's race!"

***

Belle and I decided we'd treat our race like Olympians did, swimming end-to-end.

Standing along the pool edge, we readied ourselves in a starting position, legs bent and posture forward. Then we counted down from three, before diving into the water like torpedos.

Midway through the race, I was already hard for breath, but I closed my eyes and locked the fuck in. Kicked my feet and propelled my arms with max power.

Sensing the finish line, I stretched my hand out, tapped the pool wall, then emerged upright to gauge matters, a gold medal on my mind.

"Hi there. Took you long enough," she said, hand already on the coping. She was treading water, not looking winded at all.

I looked to the high ceiling in defeat, exhaling my lungs out. How the hell did I lose to Belle? I was on my high school's swim team, for god's sake!

"Time to pay the piper," she said. "Shed the shorts, Cuz."

I climbed out of the pool like a sloth, glaring at her in good fun. Then I untied the drawstrings, stretched the elastic band, and pushed the wet shorts to the tile.

"Happy?" I said, arms out, palms up. The white underwear I had on was sopping wet. And my bulge stuck out like a hulking ant hill.

Belle couldn't hold her grin as she victoriously scanned my covered crotch, head tilted, as if trying to do photoshop in her mind, imagining what my goods looked like without the packaging.

Whatever. She could gaze for as long as she wanted to. Personally, I was proud of what God had endowed me with—upper-percentile proud, I'd add.

"Yo perv," I said to her. "My eyes are up here."

She giggled. "Wow, who knew Cousin Chris was packing heat? I'm surprised they let you into this country with that weapon."

"Ha-ha, real funny!" I said. "So are we done here?"

"Not quite," she said, climbing out of the water. "I'm kinda feeling guilty now. Tell you what, I'll let you suplex me into the pool after all."

"It's fine, Belle. I'll take my loss on the chin."

"No, Chris," she said. "I want you to. I think it'll be fun. Just don't injure me, please. My body's my living, buddy."

"You sure?" I asked.

"Jesus Christ, do you need me to beat you in a race again to make you?" Belle said, hands on her hips.

I chuckled. "Alright, Belle, let's do it then. Stand here."

I arranged us into position, along the pool edge. I took a deep breath with bent knees, then lifted Belle's body above me, vertically toward the ceiling. She squealed as I started falling backward. We both flopped into the water, causing a raucous splash.

When I burst through the surface, I was standing in the shallow end, cheering loudly, my arms up in triumph, like I was my favorite wrestler growing up.

Out of nowhere, I felt the inside of her elbow around my neck, her body on my back, legs wrapped around my stomach.

"Chokehold!" she shouted. "Tap out! Submit!"

"What the fuck!" I said.

Belle's grip wasn't deathly, but I couldn't shake her loose. As we writhed around in the water, her calf kept on rubbing against my crotch. I don't know if it was intentional or not, but it was having a growing effect.

Then her feet started doing something interesting... She brought a toehold to the band of my underwear and tried pushing it down my waist, not exactly failing to make progress...

A loud ringtone suddenly sounded off nearby. I immediately recognized it as mine.

Fuck.

"Hold up, Belle." I tapped her forearm to let her know I was finished play-wrestling, and she slackened her grip.

I pulled up my white briefs under the water and exited the pool. Whatever burgeoning erection I'd had was gone the moment I heard that grating ringtone.

"Who even uses a ringtone nowadays?" Belle said, still floating in the pool.

"It's a distinct one," I replied. "So I can tell she's calling."

"Who?" she asked.

"Marie..."

THREE
Comfort in Cousins

I confirmed it was my ex-girlfriend's name flashing on my phone. I debated answering, in case it was a real emergency back home. But my anger and hurt won out. I plopped my ass on a lounger, letting the call go to voicemail.

Belle eventually joined me on an adjacent lounger and placed her hand on my knee. "Hey Chris, um... I know we weren't ever the type to share personal stuff. But now that we're older, I'd like to think that we could trust each other, talk about things."

I tried to read Belle, noting her caring tone. She was offering support, like any good family member would. I drew a deep breath, then exhaled my reservations away.

"Maybe I'm the stupid one," I said. "I thought Marie and I were going to stand the test of time. We'd invested so much into our relationship. I loved her. But she threw that all away when she cheated on me..."

Belle combed her wet hair back, lips turned down, a blue coat of sympathy coloring her face.

"I broke up with Marie," I said. "Then escaped here to Thailand to get away."

I picked up my phone, fiddled for a file, then pressed play to show Belle. She leaned forward, squinting to make out the footage of my now ex-girlfriend on our bed, getting her pussy pounded by her boss, Steve.

Belle had her hand over her mouth in total shock.

I put my phone down. "A year ago, we'd placed a security camera in our bedroom, where we kept our valuables. Fast forward to last week, and she'd forgotten about the cam altogether when she brought her boss over."

I took a painful second to gather myself, then continued, "I was nothing but good to her, Belle. She didn't even seem apologetic when I confronted her about it, as if it was my fault that I never dicked her as good as 'Steve.' And you know what's truly fucked? I was spending my free time doing ring shopping. I was getting ready to pop the question..."

"Oh no..." Belle moved to my lounger to curl me into a hug. "I'm so sorry, Chris. You didn't deserve this..."

"She's still in our apartment too. Told her that when I get back from Thailand, she'd better be gone. But she said that she wasn't moving an inch. Said that I should be the one to move out instead. The fuck kind of logic is that?" I scoffed while shaking my head.

My phone started vibrating again. It was Satan herself, calling once more. I looked at Belle, wondering what I should do. Her eyes narrowed, looking like she'd lit a bulb above her head.

"Chris, I got you," Belle said confidently. "Tell me, does Marie get jealous?"

"She has in the past, yeah," I replied. "Why?"

Belle then offered an open palm toward me. "Do you mind?"