Date: Fri, 8 May 2020 23:13:38 -0700 From: Joe L Subject: Dreamin' About my Cuz - Chapter 12 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This story is completely fictional. Any resemblance by name or description to anyone dead or alive is totally coincidental. This is a story about a boy having a crush on his cousin. If this offends you, if you are not of legal age or if this content is not legal inyour area, please do not read this. If you have comments, please email me at bdslider1@gmail.com. If you enjoy my stories, please consider donating to nifty.org. Their hard work helps us all enjoy these stories. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Chapter 12 Year 2 September 1st It's raining. Hard. Mom is squinting through the windshield between passes of the wipers, trying to concentrate on the road. "When it's raining, just concentrate on the white line at the edge. If you go off the side, you'll wreck," she instructs as she drives. I wouldn't mind wrecking at this point. I haven't talked to Jeffers in eight days, and I haven't even gotten a text from him in five. It's starting to feel like last year. I pull out my phone, stare at our text thread, and I don't feel like I can text him anymore. After he left this year, we texted and talked all the time. I never got the feeling like I was bothering him, and he always seemed excited to talk to me. A couple of weeks ago, he told me that I needed to start sharing everything with Bryson that I shared with him. He wanted Bryson and me to get closer. I really like Bryson, but I only want to get closer to Jeffers. Mom is driving me to Bryson's house. I've never been there before. I'm going to my boyfriend's house, where we're going to be ALONE... and my fucking mom KNOWS... and she's DRIVING me there. My parents had Bryson over for dinner on Thursday night, and he was perfect. My butt cheeks were clenched the entire night, but he was the perfect boyfriend. He said and did everything just right. He's that guy in the movies that's completely snowing the girlfriend's parents so he can gain their trust and get into their daughter's panties. I guess I'm the daughter. After he left, Mom and Dad both kept asking me questions about him, asked when we could all go to one of Bryson's soccer games, and begged me to let them invite him back over for dinner again soon. All Jocelyn said was, "I've fallen for calves before, too," and then she walked out of the room proud of her contribution. We pull up to Bryson's house, and his calves are on full display. He's standing on his front porch with his back to us, looking at his phone. He's wearing white Nike crew socks, navy blue exercise shorts that come down to just above his knees and an oversized gray sweatshirt. I had never really understood the whole sweatshirt- and-shorts outfit choice, but once I saw Jeffers wearing the combo, I instantly loved it. It looks damn good on Bryson, too. Bryson turns around and smiles as he sees our car approach. I pull the hood over my head to get ready to make a run for the front door. "I'll text you when I'm ready to be picked up," I say, opening the door. "And when do you think that will be?" "I dunno. After dinner?" I bolt, not giving her a chance to disapprove. As I run for the front porch, Bryson waves at Mom in the most overly friendly and exaggerated way. I can't believe she doesn't see through him. "Hey boyfriend," he says with the hint of a smile. "Hey," I say coolly. I take my jacket off standing next to him and try to shake off as much water as I can before we head inside. "C'mere," he says and pulls me in for a hug. He embraces me tightly, way too much for a guy that's not comfortable with gay PDA's in front of parents. I look over his shoulder and see the outline of Mom's car driving away through the pouring rain. "Wow, it's like you missed me or somethin'," I say, wriggling out of his hug. I chuckle, but he doesn't politely chuckle back like I'm used to. "You really don't know, do you?" he asks, staring intently into my eyes. "What?" "You really have no idea how cute you are," he says, continuing to stare with a very serious expression. "I... guess not," I say, fucking blushing again. "Here, lemme help." He quickly presses his lips to mine. He gives me three tender kisses, followed by a much longer one where I let his tongue in for a preview. I quickly remember that his mom might be around, and I break free with an embarrassed smile. He takes my hand and we head for the door. "Feels SO good to have a boyfriend." He lets out a big, contented sigh. "A fucking AMAZING one." I step out of my shoes and set them next to a couple of pairs of Bryson's that are left by the front door. "Cole, is that you?" Bryson's mom calls out. "Yes, Mrs. Greer," I attempt to sound cheerful, and Bryson gives me a thumbs-up and a wink before we head into the living room where Mrs. Greer has got her stuff spread all over the room. She makes jewelry out of cheap gemstones and gold-colored wire. She sells it at art festivals and craft fairs, and Bryson says she makes enough to take the family on a nice vacation every year. Bryson told me that the last couple of years, he loved when she got out all the jewelry-making stuff. That meant that he could get out the lotion and fire up the gay porn without any fear of being disturbed. His dad is a real estate agent, so he's always out all weekend showing properties and standing around at open houses. That, combined with his mom's frequent distractions, enabled Bryson to promise me that we would have a lot of alone time. I follow Bryson to his bedroom with my heart pounding. Is he going to throw me down on his bed? Is he going to try to have sex with me with his mom in the house? I walk into his bedroom and immediately see one wall full of pictures of shirtless, hunky soccer players. I turn around and see a huge poster of a singer. Luckily, I notice the name, "Shawn Mendes" in the bottom corner. "Shawn Mendes, eh?" I smile at Bryson. "It's probably the gayest thing about me. I put in my airpods, sing and dance around to his music and just totally fag out." His face turns bright red. "PLEASE tell me you like Shawn." "Yeah, he's great." I turn around and stare at the poster. "Oh no! You hate him!" Bryson sits down on the foot of his bed with deep disappointment I his eyes. "No, no!" I laugh and sit down next to him. "I don't even really know who Shawn Mendes is. I was just pretending to like him so I could impress you. I don't really know anything about pop music." "We've got to change that!" Bryson quickly cues up a song on his phone and sets it down on a speaker on his desk. A song starts playing, and Bryson slowly dances over to me, mouthing the words perfectly. He must really feel comfortable around me because I would be so fucking embarrassed to do something like this in front of him. He reaches me and takes my hand, and I suddenly forget how to dance. I shift my weight back and forth between my feet as I watch him dramatically lip-sync while kissing me during vocal pauses. "Wow, yeah... I think I could be a fan." "Holy shit... let's go to a concert together!" Bryson laughs and starts dancing with me again. "Umm... I'll have to think about that one," I say quietly. "Come on, let's get some drinks and some snacks for our rainy-day gay binge- fest." He takes me by the hand and leads me to the kitchen. I get us both a large tumbler of iced tea, and Bryson makes some nachos and piles on the salsa, sour cream and guac. "What are we watching?" "We'll start with 'Love, Simon'. Then we'll watch 'Alex Strangelove' and finish up with 'God's Own Country.'" We carefully head downstairs to his basement, which has been made into an awesome TV dungeon. We set down the drinks and snacks on the table, and Bryson plops down and launches Netflix. "Hmm... I wonder where I should sit." I look around at the huge sectional that takes up most of the basement. It would easily seat twelve people. Bryson stares back at me with an impatient smirk. "How bout... over here?" I scoot right next to him, take his hand and lean my head on his shoulder. "You'd better fucking sit next to me," he mutters, kissing the top of my head. Bryson starts the movie and we feed each other nachos playfully. The finger- licking gets a little more sensual as we get down to the end, and I can feel my heart beating everywhere in my body. Bryson puts the empty plate back on the table, grabs a blanket and spreads it over us, twitching his eyebrows. He puts his arm around me and holds me close. "Do you have any idea what goes on inside my body when you're so close to me?" he asks softly. I can hear his breathing slowly get louder. After a while, he starts stroking my hair and kissing my ear, making me giggle like a dumb girl. "Aren't you watching the movie?" I nudge him with my elbow. "I've seen this movie six times," he whispers and kisses a line from my ear down my neck. "Oh shit! You should have told me! We could have watched one of the others!" "I've seen 'Alex' nine times and 'GOC' eleven times," he whispers, still completely focused on my neck. I feel like I should do something. Jeffers would want me to make a move. Hell, Jeffers would want me to taste his cum. Not today, but I should do something. I sneak my hand under the blanket and make my way to Bryson's dick. I can feel the heat under his shorts, and I'm surprised how big it is when I get my hand on the outside of his shorts. "Cole... yeah." Bryson leans his head back and closes his eyes. Holy fuck! He's way bigger than Jeffers or me. He's a year older than us, but am I going to be this big next year? Is Jeffers going to get this big? I don't know if I like that. Jeffers's dick is so fucking perfect the way it is. I don't know if I'd want it to get any bigger. Fuck, I gotta concentrate on Bryson. I feel like I should say something sexy, but anything I say would come out stupid and probably as far from sexy as I am from Jeffers right now. I make my way inside his shorts, tucking a couple of fingers inside his boxers. He opens his eyes and looks right into mine, pleading for me to continue. I smile nervously as I move the rest of the way inside and wrap my fingers around his shaft. Jesus, it's big. I rub his dick softly and a jolt of pleasure causes him to slam his feet against the table with a loud thud. We both laugh, but the mood quickly turns back. I press my thumb against his sensitive area, right below the head and he moans. I continue to rub it slowly, and his kisses get wilder and wetter on my ear and neck. "Cole... yeah... FUCK, that feels SO good!" he grunts. The heat he's generating is making us both sweat, and I know he's close. I continue a soft and steady pressure, rubbing him right where I get the most moans. He starts to whine into my ear, and a few seconds later, I feel warm squirts of cum coat my hand and the inside of his shorts. We sit in silence for a few seconds, and the only sounds are Bryson trying to catch his breath. "Shit, lemme get cleaned up!" He springs up and hands me a box of Kleenex. "It's okay," I laugh, wiping his cum off my fingers. "Be right back!" Bryson disappears. I wonder for a second if I should make a run for it, then I wonder for a second why I wondered that. He returns with a different pair of shorts and an embarrassed smile. "I'm so sorry. I should have taken care of you first. Then we could have gotten cleaned up together! I just didn't want to get any on the blanket or any on your jeans... I kinda gushed." "Yeah, I felt it gush," I smile back at him. He stares directly into my eyes with lust and doesn't laugh at my joke, and I get nervous. "You don't have to take care of me. I'm okay. We can just watch the movie." "There's nothing I've ever wanted more than to take care of you... right now," he says, moving closer to me. "Well, get on that! Let's fucking go!" I clap my hands loudly a couple of times and Bryson laughs. I feel like I just channeled Jeffers. That's exactly what he would have said in that situation. I'm very proud of myself. We sit back down on the couch and Bryson rubs the front of my jeans. "Dang, you lost your hard-on!" he says. Shit, he's right. I didn't even notice. Wait, did I ever get hard? I don't even remember. I was just so focused on trying to make Bryson feel good, I didn't even realize that I wasn't feeling it. Now that I think of it, I don't know if I've ever gotten hard over Bryson. I really like him. I like being around him. I like when he holds my hand and kisses me. It makes my heart beat faster, but mostly, I'm just nervous about saying or doing something stupid. He puts the blanket back over our laps and expertly undoes the button on my jeans with one hand. He snakes his hand inside, causing my zipper to slowly open. I hear each tooth of my zipper detach from its mate as Bryson's smile gets slowly wider. I don't feel anything happening inside my underwear though. This is going to be bad. Bryson is going to be totally insulted. I close my eyes, lean back and make a soft moan. I picture the way Jeffers looked wearing my tights, and my dick quickly shoots straight up... desperate times. "There ya go... yeah," Bryson exhales hot breath against my ear, and it helps solidify things down there. He rubs the shaft slowly, and I know he'll be able to get the job done if I just keep my thoughts focused on Jeffers. I do it all the time... jerking off, thinking about Jeffers... except this time, I'm just using Bryson's hand. The pleasure builds steadily, and I moan as Bryson rubs more quickly and with more pressure. I just want it to be over, and I pull out the big guns. I conjure up Jeffers's face... his sweet, eager smile... right as he hovered over me the second before our first kiss. It brings me to orgasm, but almost instantly, a huge wave of sadness crashes inside my chest. I cup my hand over my mouth and twist my face up as tightly as I can, but it's no use. A sob escapes my mouth, and I try to turn away from Bryson. "Cole?" There's no hiding it, and I cry into my hands, trying desperately to cover my face. "I'm SO SORRY! Cole! Please! I'm SO SORRY! Please look at me! COLE! I need you to look at me!" I hear Bryson's voice repeat the same lines over and over, but I can't look at him. Finally, he falls silent, but he is holding my arms firmly against the couch. I'm so fucking embarrassed, but I know there's no way I can escape. I try to take deep breaths and lower my hands from my face. I look at Bryson. "Cole, I'm so sorry. I need to ask you something. Has anyone ever molested you... or raped you?" "No, no!" I cover my face again. This just got even more embarrassing. "Cole, if someone has done that to you, you need to talk to someone. You don't have to talk to me about it, but I want you to know that you can talk to me about it... if you want to... but you have to talk to someone." I finally find my center. I have to put a stop to this. "I promise. No one has touched me like that. It's just that... I have a boyfriend." I say, taking another deep breath. "You're GOD DAMN right you do!" Bryson says, looking confused. "No, no. I have another boyfriend. He lives a long way from here." I quickly come up with a believable lie in my mind. "I met him... summer before last... at a dance camp. We fell in love. We fell hard. Now, we only see each other for a few days during the summer, and I don't know how to deal with it." "Why didn't you TELL me you had a boyfriend?" Bryson leans back against the couch and stares at the ceiling. It looks like my news really hit him hard. "I thought I wanted him to date other guys. He said he wanted me to date you! We both thought the other would be happier if he had a boyfriend to love and be loved by. But I love him. He owns my whole heart. I like you Bryson. I REALLY like you. I've really liked every second we've spent together and everything you've done for me. But I just can't." Bryson lets out a long sigh and continues to stare at the ceiling. We sit awkwardly for a couple of minutes, Bryson staring at the ceiling and me staring at my feet. "Wait!" he says suddenly, and it startles me. "Was this the guy that was shouting 'Coley-Poley!' at your recital?" "Umm... yeah, that was him." I smile slightly. "Ahh shit. I thought that must have been your cousin or somethin'." Bryson shakes his head. I wish there was a hole I could crawl in and die. "I think you'd better go," he says, standing up. "Yeah," I say, amazed I'm able to stand up without passing out. "I'll walk you to the door," he says, flatly. "That's okay, you don't have to," I say, looking back at the floor. "Okay," he says, sitting back down on the couch. I quietly head up the stairs and let myself outside to the front porch. I call Mom and stand, watching the rain for twenty minutes before she finally picks me up. "What happened?" she asks, as I get in the car. "We broke up." I mumble, trying not to get water everywhere. "I thought you'd make it at least another week or two!" she says with a laugh, and I look at her with the meanest expression I can generate. "Why would you say that?" "I dunno." She shrugs her shoulders. "I really liked Bryson. I liked everything about him. I just... I knew he wasn't the one for you." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ If you'd like to see what I think Cole and Jeffers look like, email me your thoughts on the story at bdslider1@gmail.com and I will send you G-rated pics. Check out my other stories on nifty: Backdoor Slider: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/athletics/backdoor-slider/ Mason in the Center: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/mason-in-the-center/ We Have the Summer: https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/incest/we-have-the-summer/