It didn’t upset me like it should, I was used to the slut shaming. I’d received a lot of it in my life and had learned to ignore it. I was as far away from being angelic as I could be, so a lot of it wasn’t far off the mark.
I was definitely broken though. Big time. Some of his comments had excited me. How was that even possible? All I could concentrate on was how he thought I was fit. The assertiveness in his voice about how he liked my body had turned me on, even in that brief time. God I was fucked up.
………
I awoke the following morning still perplexed by what had transpired the evening before. After my auntie had left my asshole of a cousin had become Mr Charming around my dad and I. If it hadn’t been for our little exchange in the living room I would have definitely believed he had changed.
I still couldn’t stop thinking about what he had said to me when we had been alone. I should have been raging, and a bit of me was, but also a traitorous part of me was still turned on by the fact he was attracted to me.
My dad worked during the day and I was alone in the house with my cousin. I knew which Mason would be waiting for me. My dad had asked me to keep him entertained. Take him into the centre maybe and get some lunch. I was dreading that idea. Maybe he just had a weird sense of humour and that’s what his little episode was about yesterday.
I was more annoyed about feeling uncomfortable in my own house. I wasn’t having that. I’d face him and if he was the asshole then I’d make sure I gave as good as I got.
I headed downstairs and into the kitchen. Wondering if I should just head back to my room.
“Morning cunt,” he said. Instantly prodding the fire within me. My anger raged to the surface. He knew I hated that word, and he knew how to press every button to wind me up.
“Wanker,” I replied, in greeting. The venom in my voice obvious.
“Ooh good comeback,” he said. “So….you still a slut these days?”
“Fuck you,” I mumbled. He looked over my body, me instantly regretting my outfit. Which made me angry. I didn’t like being made to feel uncomfortable. I was in cyan leggings and a small black crop top. When I say small it was practically just a boob tube with shoulder straps. I had a lot of skin on show.
“You’re obviously still an obnoxious prick anyway,” I added. My choice of fit wasn’t for him. It was just an outfit I liked. Not one I had thought through properly though.
“You are seriously hot, I’ll give you that,” he said. “That waist is incredible. Even if you are a slut.”
“What the fuck is your problem?” I managed. I fought the inappropriate flush of my body from his back handed compliment, and the lustful looks he was giving me. My broken mind enjoying it.
“I don’t have any problem right now,” he said. He was just sat back staring at me. I looked at his lap and noticed a bulge in his tracksuit bottoms. “I have to say I’ve enjoyed some of your posts on Insta.” I was proud of my body now and I did flaunt it a bit on Instagram.
“You’re a pervert,” I muttered. I ignored him as I grabbed a bowl of cereal and made myself a coffee. He watched me the whole time. As I was leaving he finally spoke.
“So are you entertaining me today or not?” He asked. “I’m sure we could come up with something.”
“No chance,” I said. “I don’t hang around with sex pests. Find your own entertainment, I’m going upstairs out of your way.”
“If you want me to come up just shout,” he said.
I laughed. “In your fucking dreams,” I replied.
I went back upstairs and stayed there for a bit, but after I ate my breakfast I got pissed off that I felt banished to my room. It was my house and I wasn’t letting that prick make me feel uncomfortable here. I didn’t really have anything to do downstairs but I wasn’t letting him win.
I headed downstairs. Bad idea. I found him on the sofa. Stomping into the living room without warning proved to be a mistake.
“Oh god,” I gasped. “Are you fucking wanking?” I quickly looked away, turning my back. The moans of a girl getting fucked clearly coming from his phone. I tried to ignore the fact his cock had looked big.
“Shouldn’t barge in then,” he said. I heard the phone go off. He didn’t sound that embarrassed.
“It’s the fucking living room!” I said. “What is wrong with you? It’s not barging in. It’s our fucking living room you’re wanking in.” I waited a bit and then turned, expecting him to have put it away. He hadn’t, and worse, he was staring at me whilst he did it.
He grinned at me as he slowly stroked himself, looking over my body. Heat flared between my thighs, my body’s betrayal obvious.
“This is better wank material,” he said. “If you could just turn back around though. Even I have to admit you have a sexy ass in those leggings.” He moved his hand slowly up and down. The hard angry cock drawing too much of my attention.
“You’re sick,” I said. I luckily remembered that he was such an asshole, and my cousin. I spun and charged out, resisting looking back. “Fucking pervert.” I added as I left. He just laughed.
If he was a pervert, what did that make me, I thought. There was no denying that the encounter had turned me on a bit. I ran upstairs to my room, slamming the door behind me.
“CUNT!” I screamed, kicking an item of clothing across the room. Not even caring about using the word I didn’t like. In some cases it was the only swear word that really worked. “Fucking cunt.”
I flopped down on the bed and simmered with rage. I had to tell my dad, surely, but when I thought about how I would tackle the subject I grew panicky. How was I supposed to tell him that, and why the fuck could I not get the image of his dick out of my head.
There was no denying it had been a gorgeous specimen. Long and thick, the head full of blood and hungry looking, glistening with precum.
I didn’t really notice my hand as I sucked in my tummy and slid it into my leggings and pants. It was the touch of my fingers and how wet I had become that brought my attention to what I was, subconsciously doing. Even the shame of fingering myself to my cousin, who I hated, didn’t stop me from continuing to push a finger inside me.
I had fantasised about my dad hundreds of times, so thinking about my cousin like this didn’t even register. Incest had been constant theme of my self pleasuring journey. It was more the fact he was such a twat that made me question what I was doing. Not enough to stop me though as I coated my fingers in my juices and moved to my clit.
I lay there, my hand moving rhythmically in my pants and leggings as I thought about my cousin’s hard dick.
I moaned as I orgasmed, whimpering on my own fingers and biting my lip hard so I didn’t cry out. I came hard into my underwear.
The rest of the day I thought it wise to stay out of Mason’s way.
…….
The next day I had breakfast with my dad and Mason. Mason was his usual funny and polite self around my dad, and I bit my tongue, trying to be polite and sociable back.
So deceived by this Mason I found myself sitting on the sofa with him after we had eaten. I made sure it was opposite ends though.
I had opted for a less revealing cropped vest top today. Still a bit of my stomach showing above my grey leggings, but less for the perv to perv over.
“See you later honey,” my dad said from the doorway. It was time for him to leave for work.
“Bye dad,” I said. “Love you.”
“Love you too. See you later Mason,” he said to my cousin.
“Have a good day,” Mason replied. We heard my dad leave.
“Love you,” Mason said girlishly, mocking what I said to my dad. I ignored him and he laughed.
We sat there watching morning TV, some boring house hunting bullshit. I was trawling through the usual randomness of tiktok. I occasionally glanced over at Mason. I hated the fact that I found him attractive. It would be so much less confusing if he looked as vile as his personality.
“Aren’t you going upstairs?” He said, finally breaking the silence.
“It’s my house,” I replied. “You can always fuck off upstairs.”
“Nah, I prefer it here,” he said. “Guess if you stay you’ll just have to watch me.”
I watched amazed as he reached into his shorts and pulled his semi hard dick out. He started stroking it. I stared for a second and then looked back at the TV, paying way more attention to the current program than I was before.
I refused to move from my own sofa because of this disgusting asshole. My eyes flicked his way, his cock already hard in his hand. His eyes on me. I couldn’t lie to myself, I wanted to watch, but it was so wrong.
I tried my best to ignore him as he just started wanking. The dirty fucker not even caring I was there. I stared at the TV urging myself not to look. I was burning with something. I wasn’t sure it was anger though.
The usual needy ache between my legs grew and I felt wet from my growing arousal. I felt I had no choice but to move upstairs or I didn’t know what I might do.
I saw movement of his other hand and cursed to myself for sneaking another glance. His free hand was over his mouth, something grasped it in. I recognised the colour almost immediately, it took my brain a few more seconds to comprehend.
“ARE THOSE MY PANTS!” I screamed, jumping up off the sofa.
He laughed, inhaling hard into the ball of fabric. I gasped as I realised they were my pants from yesterday. The ones I had cum into.
“Fucking pervert,” I said, stomping over to him. He didn’t stop wanking as I neared, I refused to let it bother me. “Give them back.” I held my hand out.
I stood over him, my legs slightly apart, trying to look menacing. He just looked at my crotch and I really wanted to slap the smile off his face, but flushed pink instead. I hoped I was giving him a view of my camel toe.
Leave a Reply