Incest story: Expect the Unexpected – Chapter 1 – Part 2: Pitching a Tent
Author: viceofchoice
“Distracted you!?” she scoffed, giggling. “I just got here! You can’t blame me!”
“I can blame whoever is guilty,” I answered succinctly, removing the failed creation from the stick carefully. She didn’t have an answer, and just scoffed again.. “So, you get to sleep in my tent, huh?”
“Yeah!” giggled Jennifer. “Oh, this is gonna be fun! We can stay up late, swapping manly stories, and in the morning…I’m making waffles!”
I raised an eyebrow at her.
“Shrek.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I know.” I added a new batch of marshmallows to a clean, cool stick. “I could go for some waffles tomorrow morning, though.”
“I think that’s what we’re having, actually.”
“Nice!” I extended the marshmallows over the fire. “So you’re really not weirded out by staying in the same tent as me?”
Jennifer shook her head. “No. Why should I be?”
I shrugged. “I dunno. I just thought you might think it’s a little odd sharing a tent with your cousin.”
She scrutinized me for a second. “Are you uncomfortable with it?”
“No,” I answered quickly, and not entirely truthfully. “I think it’s fine.”
“Then I think it’s just fine, too,” she acquiesced.
A steady stream of incompatible thoughts began streaming through my head again. I tried to keep my concentration fixed on the marshmallows and away from comparing Jennifer to the girls I’d been with during my European exchange. “Yeah,” I lightly agreed. It was all I could manage to get out.
“I think it’ll be fun, though,” she surmised.
I looked up at her again. She was grinning. It was such a pretty smile. Why did Jennifer have to be so pretty? Keeping an air of neutrality, I asked her, “Why’s that?”
“Because we can stay up late talking!” she clarified like it was obvious. “We always enjoy doing that, right?”
I laughed again. “For sure!” I took the marshmallows away from the fire. They were perfectly golden brown. I called over my younger cousins and let them take one each to complete their desserts before standing up. “C’mon,” I invited Jennifer, seeing as how the evening was getting on. “Let’s go set up our tent and get it ready. It’s starting to get dark.”
A short time later, the tent was set up and our gear stored neatly inside, with a single, large foam mattress beneath our two sleeping bags. Out of necessity and space, we were forced to pitch it at the far edge of our booked campsites. It was far enough away that, if we did end up having a late-night conversation, I doubted whether anyone would even hear us. The sun was long down over the horizon by the time we finished, and we joined the rest of the family back over near the campfire.
The evening wore on, and much of it was the same old, entertaining humdrum of family get-togethers: age-old conversations about life and science and politics, things people planned to in the future or dreamed they might have one day did, and an off-colour joke or two that went right over the youngest cousins’ heads. My grandfather even broke out his old guitar for a bit of late-evening singing. As predictable as it all was, I never tired of it.
The crowd about the fire began to dwindle. Soon it was only Jennifer and me and a few of the other older cousins. We amused ourselves with things that mattered to us before even we started to succumb to the call of night. When Jennifer announced she was going to bed, I followed right after, leaving just two other cousins left beside the campfire.
I steeled myself, bracing myself to expect the unexpected.
I rapped on the tent door with my fingers. “Jen?” I announced myself. “Can I come in?”
“Yeah, that’s fine,” she invited me.
I unzipped the tent door and entered. In the cloudless sky above, the nearly-full moon overhead shone brightly, even though the thin tent wall, bathing Jennifer in dim light. She sat there, picking out what she was wearing for bed. Maybe it was just how tired I was feeling or the memory of her legs around my head, but as she sat there, my beautiful cousin looked more radiant in the moonlight than in the brightness of the day.
As I crawled over to my side of the tent and started rummaging through my things, I couldn’t help but steal glances at her out of the corner of my eyes from time to time. On more than one occasion I thought I caught her doing the same to me. In the darkness it was hard to tell.
“Alright,” Jennifer announced, pulling the grey sweater off over her head. Her sexy, young body came into view again, her most appealing features still hidden only by the thin purple clothes. “I’m going to change. Don’t you dare look,” she commanded with mild jest.
Against my most basic urges, I turned my back completely. “I won’t,” I assured both her and myself. I busied myself looking for my own underwear and sweatpants when I heard her growl softly.
“Can you get this?” she asked.
“What?”
She indicated the knot her bikini top was tied up in behind her back. The one that had been behind her neck was already gone. “This knot here. I think it’s still a little wet. I can’t get it undone.”
“Sure,” I agreed, and pried the stings apart. I struggled, but eventually the small cords gave way, and the whole purple top went slack. The only things holding it to her body now were her hands as they cupped themselves around her petite breasts. Her bare back was wonderfully shaped, showing off a small pair of back dimples as she knelt there on her sleeping bag. I felt a stirring in my shorts as I looked her over. I knew it shouldn’t be there, but I didn’t have the capacity to resist.
She turned her head to look at me and caught me staring at her. “Turn around,” she ordered with a playfully sneer. There was a slight smirk on her face. “You shouldn’t be looking at me. I’m your cousin.”
“Shouldn’t,” I agreed, again turning my back in angst. There was nothing more I wanted to do than just let my eyes take in her beautiful figure. “You keep turned around, too,” I ordered her just as light-heartedly. With that, I removed my shirt and swimming trunks, gave myself a quick wipe down with a towel and put on my boxers and a pair of sweatpants to sleep in.
“You done?” I asked as I finished.
“Yup. You?”
“Yup.” We turned around again. She wore a white tank top, complimented by a loose, earth tone-green pair of sleepwear pants. It was obvious that she didn’t have a bra on, but that was to be expected for going to bed. I realized I was staring. An instant later, I noticed that Jennifer’s eyes were wandering over me, too. “What?” I inquired.
“Nothing,” she stated. “Just your…your arms and chest are just so…” With her main concern being her eyes, Jennifer seemed lost for words. She stared as though she’d never seen a man’s body before.
“So…?” I prodded.
“Strong,” she completed. Her eyes travelled over me in wonder. “Can I…?” she asked quietly, reaching towards my body.
I could sense my male member stirring again. I honoured her request, though it was probably against my better judgment. “Sure.”
Jennifer’s smile was wide and beautiful as she scooted towards me and let her hand wander over my bare chest, wandering through my chest hair. Her fingertips took in the bumpy contours of my abs before exploring my chest and pecks and then gliding down one of my arms. All the while, I had to keep a conscious repression against my male member. It threatened to explode to full size at any second if I didn’t keep my primal urge in check.
“Wow,” she gawked. “I don’t think I’ve ever touched a guy who’s been as built as you are, Carter.”
I cocked an eyebrow at her. “You’ve never had a boyfriend?” I asked.
Jennifer shrugged. “Well, sure I’ve had a boyfriend, but he wasn’t built…like this,” she breathed softly, as though trying to subdue wayward emotions of her own. “Must just come with getting into your twenties,” she postulated, crawling into her sleeping bag.
I laughed softly. It felt good to be in my prime, no matter who the female taking notice was. “Must, I suppose.”
Wriggling into my own sleeping bag, I rested on my side to look at Jennifer. She was looking back at me. There were no words between us. I breathed heavily. I couldn’t help it. My heart was racing, beating faster and harder than I could ever remember. For whatever reason, we just laid there, staring into one another’s eyes. Those baby blues that she had were glorious, shining like a pair of perfect sapphires in the night. I couldn’t resist the smile that came to my face.
Jennifer smiled back, contentedly. It melted my heart. “Are you sure you’ll be warm enough without a shirt?” she asked.
All those times I’d slept with someone, and none of them compared to the restless emotion I was now feeling. Maybe it’s because those were more often than not just sex. It was just a pleasurable experience to share together, don’t get me wrong, but there was rarely, if ever, any emotion to it. We didn’t know each other well enough for there to be a lasting passion. It was only ever superficial at best.
This was different. As my cousin and I laid there, looking deeply into one another’s eyes, I couldn’t help but feel something much deeper and much more profound than the superficiality I’d experienced with others. There was a passion, a connection. It grew like the incoming tide on the seashore, getting deeper and deeper with each succeeding wave.
Yet, I knew innately that I should resist it. We were so closely related that we couldn’t afford to do this with one another. Regardless of how close we felt, these feelings had to be contained.
“I should be ok,” I assured her. Unfortunately, the smile began to dissolve from her lovely face. It wasn’t replaced by pain exactly, but there was a slight sadness. It seemed more like disappointment or a degree of frustration.
“Ok,” she acknowledged, laying down onto her back.
I felt the strain from wanting to walk the line between appeasing and respecting her. I decided that if I were to do it right, I should let her have control of the situation this evening. Then, I wouldn’t feel guilty about pressuring her into doing anything she wasn’t uncomfortable with.
Parent Post: Expect the Unexpected – by viceofchoice
- Expect the Unexpected - Chapter 1 - Part 2: Pitching a Tent
- Expect the Unexpected - Chapter 1 - Part 3: Pitching a Tent
Leave a Reply