http://www.mrdouble.com



                          First Cousin
                          By Mutznutz

     Supposedly, this is a true story.  I make no judgments on 
that:  I'm simply telling you, as it was told to me.  It SOUNDS 
real anyway; unlike so many so-called "first-time" stories.  The 
frustrations we all knew as we struggled to get our first sex are 
all here.  In any case, it makes a good story, whether true or 
not.  At least I enjoyed reading it.

      ----------------------------------------------------

     Well, I suppose a bit of background is required first.  I am 
male, 26 years old.  I am kinda weak and weedy looking, with 
brown eyes and dark hair.  I have been mistaken as anorexic, and 
I am pale, due to an incurable illness I suffer from.  I think I 
looked browner (from the sun) back in my childhood, and generally 
healthier.  I have a sister who is 5 years younger than me, and 
she also has brown eyes, brown hair (lighter than mine) and she's 
quite pretty . . . I love her very much - as a brother of course!

     I was the eldest child of my generation of my family.  My 
mother and her 3 sisters, all stayed in touch; and there were 
frequent family get-togethers at my grandparents' house at 
Christmas and important family events like marriages, etc.  I was 
an intelligent child I am told.  (Apparently I taught myself to 
read by age 5 with only a little help and a full set of 
encyclopedias.)  When the first of my cousins was born, I was 3; 
and when my sister was born I was 5 . . . and from the age of 
about 8 I was expected to keep the kids in line at our family 
gatherings.  It was awkward; but had to be done.  Though I 
disliked it, I often found myself from 10 years and older 
babysitting my sister.  Nothing happened between us however until 
after Vicky.
     I was 12 and a half years old, and it was summer holidays, 
when my mother announced her old friend Mary would be bringing 
her family to stay for a week or two.  At first I looked forward 
to it, then I found out she would be bringing her daughter Vicky 
and son Matthew.  I assumed then that I would have to look after 
them, in addition to my sister, whilst our parents had a reunion.  
Not my idea of a holiday, and definitely not about to be fun for 
me I thought (how wrong I was).  I sat for hours trying to figure 
out some way of avoiding having to look after the kids while 
everyone else had a good time but I couldn't think of a single 
one.  A couple of days before they arrived I more or less 
resigned myself to one-two weeks of sheer hell, and began to try 
to find any advantages.  I did reason that I could skip washing 
up after dinner, as Vicky sounded old enough to do that . . . but 
then I'd be left with the kids.  So no real benefits.









                                1


     Well the day dawned all sunny and bright, perfect weather 
for going to the beach and swimming or whatever.  I got up in a 
foul mood however; and basically behaved badly all morning until 
my father told me to grow up, and that I'd better not ruin the 
next two weeks and other things like that.
     So I just sulked, until at around 11 AM  my sister announced 
a car was pulling up outside.  After a period of door slamming 
and muffled shouts, the two families greeted each other on the 
doorstep.  I was called downstairs to be introduced by my father 
who looked at me as if to say, "There'd better be no trouble from 
YOU, or else," before my mother introduced me.  After shaking 
hands with Mary's husband (who's name I STILL can't remember) and 
kissing 'Aunt' Mary on the cheek (we had to call her Aunt even 
though she wasn't really), I was introduced to Vicky.  She was 
about my height and age.  She had shoulder length blonde hair,and 
blue eyes . . . I thought her very pretty, but not quite as 
pretty as my 6 year old sister . . . close though.  (I barely 
noticed 5 year old Matthew but then he wasn't interested in me, 
and my sister dragged him upstairs to show him where the toys 
were.)
     I had just said, "Hi," when something my mother said got my 
attention.
     ". . . and David, you will do what Vicky tells you OK?  
Don't argue, and make sure you help her with the younger kids."
     I sort of stood there in shock for a second . . . for a 
second I thought, "YES!" but then I realized I wasn't in charge! 
It's kinda silly now, but to me at 12 it seemed so important, and 
doubly so once I'd convinced myself I wasn't going to wash up 
after dinner.  Now this . . . this GIRL was in charge.  I tried 
to argue, but that made things worse; and I'd pushed my luck 
earlier, so I dropped the whole matter; especially when my father 
looked as if he was going to say something.  That first day 
seemed horrendous.  I was fetching and carrying for her and she 
found a hundred and one things that I had to do or my father 
would ask me, "Why don't you just do as you are told?" and reach 
for a belt or something . . . not that he ever had to use it.
     The sleeping arrangements were as bad.  Mary and her husband 
took over my room and I HATED that.  (I'm a person who needs 
privacy now and then.)  All of us were crammed into my sister's 
room.  The younger kids went to bed at 6 PM.  I went at 9 PM.  I 
found out that because of the 2 or 3 months that Vicky was older 
by she got an extra hour to stay up (which again seemed extremely 
unfair to me).  I went to sleep that night in an appallingly foul 
mood.  I started the next day with one also, because Vicky told 
me to make the beds and tidy my sister's room when we got up.  
She had to handle the 2 other kids though, so maybe that wasn't 
the worst end of the deal . . . .
     That day we all went out to a local castle/stately-home and 
wandered around gawping at the battlements and such, and it was 
late when we got home; so we all went to bed.
     Next morning, the younger kids woke up at 5 AM as per usual.  
The adults didn't usually get up until midday; so to avoid waking 
them Vicky decided our siblings had to go downstairs and play.  
She then said I had to stay upstairs; so I assumed I was making 
up the beds again.


                                2


     I turned toward the beds and started to make them when the 
door closed . . . and jumped when Vicky said "Stop that for a 
minute . . . I want you to do something for me."
     I turned round and in the dim light I saw her move from the 
door towards me.  "What do you want me to do?" I asked.
     I honestly cannot remember what she said.  I can remember 
looking at her in the dim light (the curtains were still closed) 
and as I write this I can see her taking off her pink nightie.  
She looked gorgeous standing there.  Her breasts just beginning 
to develop; just bumps really . . . but they looked delicious to 
me.  I looked down her tummy to between her legs, and saw her 
pussy slit . . . I seem to recall it was slightly red and puffy.  
Thinking about it, I couldn't have noticed that until later, but 
it was perfect to me, and is fixed in my mind as being red and 
puffy and slightly wet looking.  Her legs were perfectly formed 
(not that I noticed much of them).  I remember she said "Get 
undressed" but I was in a trance so she said it slightly louder, 
and added the words, "Or I'll scream."
     I then disrobed so quickly I tore two buttons of my pyjama 
top and ripped a hole in the bottom half.  Which I proceeded to 
almost fall over, because my foot got stuck in the hole.  Vicky 
giggled and then I did too.
     We stood for a short time, looking at each other and for 
some reason we didn't feel embarrassed (which puzzles me to this 
day; but who cares?).
     She moved again and pulled me over to the bed, which she got 
into, and was soon followed by me.  You'll have to forgive me for 
this next part of the story.  It may appear a bit jumbled as I 
write it down.
     I remember her explaining she wanted to try something, she 
said something else which I don't recall; as she was stroking my 
cock gently at the time.  She said I could touch her so I started 
to stroke her pussy gently with my fingers.  At this stage she 
was on her right side facing me, and using her left hand to feel 
my cock and balls.  I was using my right hand to stroke her 
pussy; we were both getting hot; and our breathing was getting 
faster.
     She said after a while (two or three minutes?  It could have 
been longer . . .) that she'd read about something else that was 
even better.  Now I'd recently had sort of preliminary sex 
education at school.  So I had a fair idea of what she was 
getting at.
     She lay on her back and opened her legs as far as the 
bedcovers would allow her (it was only a single bed) and I got on 
top of her and started rubbing my cock up and down along her 
pussy slit.  That first contact was so good.  Even though it 
wasn't full sex it felt a million times better than just feeling 
each other.  After a while we were both very aroused.  (Yes both 
of us, at 12 years of age.)
     It was then Vicky spoke again.  "I want you to put it in and 
fuck me."






                                3


     Now was this a fantasy, I would say we spent all morning 
screwing; only getting dressed just before our parents got up.  
Or that we did it all morning until caught when our families all 
joined in.  What actually happened is this, as near as I can 
remember the conversation.

     Vicky: "Do it.  Don't you like it?"
     Me: "Yes but . . . ."
     Vicky: "Don't you like . . . ME?  I thought . . . you liked 
me.  I thought you'd want to."
     Me: "No I want to! . . . I like you! but what if you . . . 
got . . . pregnant?  and it hurts first . . . time doesn't it?" 
(I carried on rubbing my cock on her pussy while we talked and 
while she thought)
     Vicky: "Well . . . ooh! . . . maybe we'd better not then" 
(sounding very breathless and a little bit disappointed)
     Me: "Well I can't get you pregnant yet.  I suppose we . . . 
ah! . . . we could . . . "
     Vicky: "No I . . . don't . . . oh! oh! OH!"
     ME: "OOOH! VICKY!"
     (Whole thing becomes pointless here, because we managed to 
cum together)
     Now THAT, I DO remember.  I have never experienced a feeling 
that good before or since.  It wasn't merely good.  Good doesn't 
come close to describing it.  I didn't cover her in sperm because 
I couldn't (not for another month or so).  We lay like that for 
another 10 or 15 minutes before Vicky nudged me.

     "Wow thank you! That was cool . . . I bet sex can't be any 
better." Whether she actually said "cool" I can't remember; but 
the second part I can remember clearly.
     I was still too stunned to speak.  I mean I'd masturbated 
from as early as I could remember, but it never ever felt as good 
as that!  I remember wondering if I could live through that more 
than once.  Well, once a day maybe.  Not that I'd be able to say 
no, if Vicky asked me to do it again.  I looked at her face and 
she asked me if I wanted to try something else she'd read about.
     I was ready again before she could finish.  She felt my cock 
get hard against her, and grinned; then she turned onto her 
front.  I was totally baffled by this; and asked her what she 
wanted me to do.  She said something like: "Stick it in my bum."
     I was disgusted at first, but she talked me into it very 
quickly; so we started.  She tried to hold her bum (ass for my 
American friends . . . I'm fairly certain most of you knew that, 
but just in case . . .) cheeks apart; and I tried to get my cock 
inside her.  It took a few attempts, but when I got the head in 
and pushed, she let go her bum-cheeks and I started thrusting 
quickly.
     The covers started to fall off the bed, although we were 
still covered mostly.  I looked down though and could see enough 
now to guess Vicky was rubbing her pussy while we did it; and we 
both came again very quickly . . . not as good as that first one 
though.




                                4


     We didn't have time to do anything else as just then the 
bedroom door opened and my mother came in.  We both looked at her 
in shock.  I thought we were going to die as soon as we got out 
of that bed . . . but for some reason she just stood there for a 
minute or two then turned around and called for my sister as if 
nothing was wrong . . . Vicky and I broke the world record for 
getting out of a bed and being fully clothed.  We came down 
nervously later for breakfast; expecting the worst.  I had 
gallantly decided to say it was "all my fault" when the arguments 
and screaming started, and even that I had forced Vicky.  After 
all we'd both enjoyed it, and I figured I'd never pay off the 
debt she'd put me in, by making me feel that good.
     I never did find out for sure if my mother saw us, but I 
reckon she did.  She and my father were the last ones down for 
breakfast that day . . . which was unusual.  They were both a bit 
flushed looking, and Mary and her husband exchanged looks and 
grins, but didn't comment.  My mother looked at me oddly once, 
and by the evening both Vicky and I were getting amused looks 
from all four adults.
     No-one ever mentioned it to me though; although my mother 
did tell me when we were alone a few weeks later that Mary said 
sorry if Vicky was bothering me while they were staying but she'd 
read some books and wanted to discuss them with someone her own 
age.  Hmmmm.  Vicky kept finding excuses for us to go off 
together; both that day, and for the rest of the holiday, but we 
were never left alone long enough for anything to happen.  Vicky 
and her family came over when we were 14, but we were embarrassed 
about the whole affair by then and avoided each other . . . oh 
well.

     The next, and last incident, occurred about 7 months later.  
I don't have such happy memories of this one.  The reasons why 
should be apparent as the story goes on.
     I was 13 now and my sister was I thought 7, but she must 
have been 6 thinking about it or it must have happened, almost a 
year later . . . anyway.  The point is that the weather was 
torrential rain and cold, and my parents were out shopping or 
something, and were going to be gone all day.  I was reading in 
my bedroom, and my sister was in her room doing what ever it is 
that 6 year old girls do for fun (no not THAT . . . hehe . . . 
well I don't know actually.  If she was, maybe that's why this 
next happened).  At that time I was pretty much into the second 
world war; so I was probably reading a war novel, when my sister 
yelled, "Dave what are you doin'?"
     "Not much.  Why?" I yelled back.
     "Can we play together?" she asked; coming into my room.
     "Yeah, if you want," I said.  "What you wanna play?"
     "I want to do what you and Vicky did," she replied.
     I sat up shaking like a leaf and said, "WHAT!?"
     She repeated, "I want ta do what you and Vicky did."
     "Uh . . . Nicky:  What do you think me and Vicky did?" 
(Nicola is her name, but we all called her Nicky.)





                                5


     "You know," she said.  "You and me take our clothes off and 
you get on top of me, and . . . its fun.  You and Vicky liked 
it."
     I broke out in a sweat.  My little sister had spied on us.
     "Nicky, you don't even know what we did!"
     "I do!"  Nicky gave me her annoyed look.
     "No.  You don't know how; and you're not big enough."
     "I do know how! I'm a big girl now.  Mummy and Daddy both 
say so."
     "They don't mean for this sort of stuff.  It's secret." (BIG 
mistake.)
      She looked at me, right in the eyes, and said, "I'll tell 
Daddy."
     Well I went white.  I mean it.  I'm ill now and I was whiter 
then than I am now . . . that's really white.  There was a mirror 
behind my sister and this ghost was staring into my face.  I 
looked so bad my sister thought twice about what she'd said.  She 
looked unsure for a second then frowned and pouted and said it 
again.
     "O.K.  O.K.  but you can't ever tell Dad, or Mum about it or 
what me and Vicky did.  O.K.?  I'd get into really bad trouble 
and so would Vicky.  Please Nicky?" 
     I was unable to think which was why I begged like this.  
It's normally asking for trouble.  Younger sisters (probably 
younger brothers too) have a permanent memory for that sort of 
thing.  (She only ever tried to use it as blackmail one more time 
after this, and then I told her pretty much the truth about what 
would happen to me if she told anyone, including possibly jail.  
She was so frightened she has never mentioned it, but she did say 
sorry.) "Alright I promise!  Lets do it on your bed."
     She then took her clothes off . . . now for a 6 year old she 
had a beautiful body . . . all smooth and pinky-white . . . not 
an ounce of fat anywhere.  Her butt was gorgeous (ever since 
Vicky I have loved girls bums . . . hers was great, my sisters at 
6 confirmed me . . . butt pervert!) and her beautiful bum is the 
only way I ever got an erection . . . which was larger than when 
I'd been with Vicky.  I was growing fast.  I could even cum 
properly (though not in large quantity, but wet dreams were now 
just that.) and if I'd been thinking properly I would have found 
out a way to stop what was happening.  My sister's threat had 
disrupted my ability to think clearly, and her naked body, lying 
on my bed with her legs apart destroyed any logical thought I 
still had bar one: she was too small for me to try fucking her 
for real.  I would hurt her if I tried that so no way.  If she 
told Dad or anyone tough.  So long as she wasn't hurt.
     So, climbing on top and supporting my weight on one arm, I 
held my cock on her slit and started rubbing the head up and 
down.  At first the feelings were great for both of us.  It all 
went wrong when my sister started to thrust her hips at me.  At 
first it just felt better, but somehow the timing got screwed up 
and the head of my cock popped into her.  For a split second I 
almost came in her.  She was painfully tight . . . I think.  
Because next thing all I heard was her scream.
     "AHHH! IT HURTS! TAKE IT OUT!"



                                6


     I instantly pulled away from my little sister, who was 
starting to cry a bit . . . and lost my erection.  I was so 
scared that I'd hurt her, as I burst into tears, I swore an oath 
right there in front of her that I'd never hurt her again if it 
was in my power to prevent it, and I'm proud to say I have kept 
it for 13 years now.
     My sister tried to get me to do it again when she was 12, 
but I refused because I was scared of hurting her, and I had also 
sworn that oath . . . I take oaths very seriously.  I take 
promises very seriously too.  When she was 13, a friend of hers 
flirted with me for a while (Lucy her name was . . . lovely girl.  
Ah well . . . ) and my sister made her last attempt at my virtue; 
which I reluctantly turned down.  Since then I have not dated or 
anything (which proves how "fucked up" I am I suppose).  I have 
good friends at work and on undernet though, so who really cares?  
Maybe one day I'll lose my virginity.  

     Well that's it.  Totally truthful.  Hopefully someone can 
make a good story out of it.

      ----------------------------------------------------

     I don't know why anyone would WANT to "make a story out of 
it."  It sounded like a pretty good story to me, just as it was.  
So . . . with a little formatting and the help of a grammar-
checker, here it is.  I hope you like the story as much as I did.  
I hope the guy DOES get laid by somebody who likes him too.  It's 
kind of a shame (in MY mind at least) that he didn't manage to 
"get together" with his little sister when she got old enough to 
want him to.  Especially, as the little girl probably went and 
"did it" with somebody who didn't care for her half as much as he 
did.  Oh well, it's long past now; and he SAYS he doesn't regret 
it.  I don't know . . . I would.  I hope she doesn't.
























                                7
