048: Cousins
**Chapter 48**
I waited several full minutes before I finally stood and excused myself for a bathroom break. The atmosphere in the lounge already felt slightly charged after everything that had happened earlier in the day, and the last thing I wanted was to make the timing look suspicious by leaving the moment Sara did. Once enough time had passed that no one would connect our exits, I muttered something about needing the restroom and slipped out of the room.
Sara was already waiting in the hallway near the bathroom door. The second her eyes met mine, a visible wave of nervousness crossed her face. She glanced once toward the lounge to make sure no one had followed, then spoke in a low, urgent voice.
“We can’t keep acting like this,” she said. “Sooner or later someone is going to notice the way we’ve been around each other, just like Sasha already did. And next time it might be someone a lot worse than her.”
She paused, and I opened my mouth to answer, but she continued before I could get a word out—this time louder, almost as if she needed to hear the justification spoken aloud in order to believe it herself.
“Yes, we got drunk. Yes, we made out. And then some more happened after that. But nothing beyond that point. So I don’t think we actually did anything wrong.”
The volume and the insistence made it sound like she was arguing with the empty hallway as much as with me. I waited again, giving her space, but she still wasn’t finished.
“But that doesn’t mean it was okay either,” she went on, voice dropping back down. “We’re cousins. What we already did was far enough. I need you to understand what I’m saying, Tyler. Nothing like that can ever happen again.”
This time the silence that followed lasted long enough that I felt safe answering.
“You’re right,” I said quietly. “I agree with you a hundred percent. What happened was an accident. Well… not completely an accident, since you were more intoxicated than I was. I’m sorry if it came across like I took advantage of the situation.”
I hadn’t been drunk at all, so the apology was honest. From my side of things, it had looked uncomfortably close to taking advantage.
Sara immediately shook her head. “No. You didn’t take advantage of me. And that’s actually the worst part.”
She pressed the heel of her left hand against her forehead and rested the other on her hip, the picture of someone fighting an internal argument she couldn’t win.
“I wanted it too.”
The three words landed harder than anything else she had said so far.
“I definitely wanted it,” she repeated, more firmly this time, as though testing the truth of the statement. Then her voice softened again. “But that still makes it a mistake. I shouldn’t want something like that. We’re cousins. So I’m telling you clearly—that afternoon was the last time anything like that ever happened between us. No one can find out. Especially not our families.”
“Ye-Yeah,” I managed, the single word coming out rougher than I intended.
She nodded once, sharply, as if the matter were now settled, then turned and walked back toward the lounge without another glance. I stayed in the hallway for a few extra seconds before following. When I re-entered the room, the second episode of the series was already well underway. As genuinely interesting as the show was, my mind refused to leave the sentence she had spoken.
*I wanted it too.*
It hadn’t been only a one-sided drunken mistake. She had wanted it as well. I didn’t know what to do with that knowledge, so I sat there while the thought turned over and over in the background. Sara came back downstairs a short while later, timing her return carefully so the staggered exits wouldn’t look coordinated, and the rest of the evening passed without further incident. Eventually, Sara and Mira left to meet friends. Sasha claimed she would meet me later once everyone went to sleep, so the two of us went to our separate rooms.
I still remembered to finish the daily requirement—five controlled sessions before midnight—then finally lay down. Even with the physical need taken care of, Sara’s words refused to quiet. I kept replaying the afternoon in my head and wondering, against my better judgment, what might have happened if she had been just a little more intoxicated, or if she had hesitated a few seconds longer before stopping me.
I forced the speculation away as best I could and closed my eyes.
When I opened them again, the room was still dark. For a moment I wasn’t certain whether I had actually slept or only drifted in and out. Then a wet, rhythmic sound reached my ears, followed immediately by a slow, electrifying pleasure traveling up the length of my cock.
“Slurp…”
The familiar sensation almost made me speak Sasha’s name out of habit. The improved night vision that came with the awakening stopped the word in my throat just in time.
It wasn’t Sasha.
Sara was on the bed with me—completely naked, not a single piece of clothing left on her body. She had positioned herself between my legs and was dragging her tongue in long, deliberate strokes from the base of my cock all the way to the tip. Her technique was still inexperienced, almost shy in the way she moved, yet the wet heat of her mouth and the careful attention of her tongue produced a pleasure so sharp and clean that I briefly wondered if I was still dreaming.
The urge to thread my fingers into her hair and push her head down rose fast and strong. I suppressed it with effort. There was something more important that needed to be settled first.
“What are you doing?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
She lifted her eyes without taking her mouth away. A small, knowing smile curved her lips around the head of my cock.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” she murmured against the sensitive skin. “I’m doing what I want to do.”
Her speech was completely clear. No slur, no haze. The only scent I could detect on her was a faint trace of beer from earlier in the evening—nowhere near enough to explain this. She was sober.
“And what about the conversation we just had?” I asked. “I’m still your cousin. That hasn’t changed.”
This time I needed absolute certainty. Even if everything became awkward afterward, I wanted both of us to remember exactly what we were choosing in this moment. It had stung more than I had been willing to admit when she called the afternoon a mistake. I did not want a repeat of that uncertainty.
Sara slowly released me from her mouth, which brought a brief flicker of disappointment, but only for a second. She crawled up the bed and settled against my chest, one arm draped across my torso, while her other hand wrapped around my cock again and began stroking with slow, steady pressure.
“I thought about it,” she said quietly, her breath warm against my collarbone. “The entire time I was out with my friends, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I was sitting there listening to them talk, laughing when I was supposed to laugh, but my mind never left what happened between us.”
The same thing had happened to me.
“I realized what we did that afternoon wasn’t really a mistake.” She lifted her head so our eyes could meet properly. The look in hers was clearer and more intense than I had ever seen directed at me. “I wanted it. And I want it again—more strongly this time than before.”
Her hand never stopped moving. The grip was firm without being painful, each upward stroke sending clean, concentrated pulses of pleasure through my entire body. She seemed to adjust the pressure instinctively every time my cock throbbed in her palm.
“I can’t erase the fact that we’re cousins,” she continued, voice steady. “That part stays. But it’s still us—Tyler and Sara. We used to talk about everything. We used to do everything together. Now we can barely hold a normal conversation without the afternoon hanging between us. I want to be able to talk to you again. I want to go out with you and enjoy ordinary things the way we used to. Because of what happened, even something that simple feels complicated.”
She kept stroking while she spoke, her rhythm never faltering.
“No matter how many different angles I tried to look at it from, I couldn’t find an answer that made the feeling disappear. If I was only drunk, why do I remember every single detail so clearly? Why can I still feel the exact way your hands moved on my skin… the exact way your mouth felt when you kissed me… the way you almost—”
She cut herself off, but the unfinished sentence hung in the air between us. My cock throbbed harder in her hand. She tightened her grip just enough to match the increase, still careful never to cross into discomfort.
“And then I found the only answer that actually made sense,” she said. She looked directly into my eyes again, no hesitation left. “We do what we did, and we remember it this clearly because we both meant it.”
The full meaning of those words settled over me at once. She was giving permission—clear, sober, deliberate permission.
Before I could act on it, she added one final piece, her voice softer but completely certain.
“I love you, Tyler. You’re my cousin. You’re my friend. You’re the person I’ve gotten into every kind of trouble with since we were kids. And most of all…” Her eyes held mine without the slightest flinch. “Because it’s you. I don’t mind if it’s you.”
I had no coherent reply ready. The only thing I felt was a clean, overwhelming happiness—no conflict, no leftover guilt, no hesitation. Just happiness so sharp it almost hurt.
So I answered the only way that felt true. I slid my hand to the back of her head, pulled her gently but firmly up to my level, and kissed her.
She trembled the instant our lips met, as if a current had run straight through her body. I felt the exact same jolt travel down my spine. Her mouth was soft and warm, her tongue small and a little timid at first, her saliva faintly sweet. Everything about the kiss fed the excitement already running through me—not only in my cock, but in my chest, my hands, the back of my neck.
I didn’t mind that her hand had stopped stroking while we kissed. What I was receiving in that moment was already more than I had ever let myself openly want. Greed felt unnecessary.
She didn’t leave me without touch for long. After a few moments, her hand slipped back down between us, wrapped around my cock once more, and resumed the slow, deliberate strokes that sent fresh sparks along every nerve. The combination of her mouth on mine and her hand working me in steady rhythm made it difficult to think in complete sentences.
When we finally parted for air, she glanced down at what her hand was doing, watched the way my cock flexed in her grip, and gave a small, knowing smile.
“Someone’s excited.”
She had no idea.