Date: Sun, 24 Jul 2022 19:30:21 +0000 From: westwrites Subject: My cousin Dimi (gay, incest) My cousin Dimi Chapter 1 This story contains various sex scenes between consenting males so if you are offended by this please do not read it. This story is a work of fiction based on some small facts. The characters are exaggerated from the truth, and all names are false. While this story depicts unprotected sex, please be safe and take precautions. Please note: this story is set in England, so any references that I'm not sure people will get, I'll try to put an Americanised version in brackets, such as when I say caravan park (Trailer Park). If anyone is unsure of something, just ask. The only dumb question is one that isn't asked. If you like the story or want to talk send me an email to westwrites@proton.me , I will be glad to read it and talk with you, emails from our readers encourage us to keep going and personally for me they make me feel so happy. Just let me know the title of the story you're reading. Please donate to nifty they needed it to maintain this wonderful site running, think of how many faps have they given you. Now think what would you do without them. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html ------ Sunday dinners at my parents' house was sacrosanct. No one got out of dinner in my family unless you had a damn good reason, so when I turned up late (as usual) and didn't see any other cars on the driveway I should have suspected something was up. For all three of my siblings to miss dinner should have set alarm bells ringing, but I cheerfully stepped into the hallway and called out a friendly "Mum, Dad, I'm home!" "Through here, Matt!" My mum's cheery voice called out from the kitchen, drawing me into the familiar, comforting warmth of the heart of the farmhouse I'd grown up in. As was typical, my dad was sat at the head of the chunky, waxed pine table with the newspaper spread before him while my mother tended the pots and pans simmering away on the old fashioned aga while a steaming hot joint of roast beef sat resting to the side. "Was the traffic bad?" My dad jibed, glancing up from the crossword he was currently working on, a friendly smile on his face. "Same old, same old." I joked back. I always blamed my late arrival on the roads being busy. There was never any traffic once you got out of the city and headed towards the tiny blink-and-you'll-miss-it village we'd grown up in. The entire village consisted of a row of seven terraced houses, four farms, a post office cum general store, and a country pub that was far busier than it had any right to be given the rural location, the relatively small local population and the fact that the two neighbouring villages also had their own pubs in them. "Arthur, leave the boy alone." My mother admonished as she came over and gripped me by the shoulders, taking a good long look at me. "Are you eating enough? Getting enough sleep?" The questions were familiar, and brought a warmth to my chest. I took after my dad's side of the family, all tall and lean with hardly any body fat no matter how much food I tucked away. My three sisters all took after mum's fuller figured side of the family. Don't get me wrong, they weren't fat or obese, but had the classical hourglass figure of large breasts and hips with narrower waists. "Where are the triplets today?" I asked as I grabbed a glass from the cabinet and poured a glug of the ice cold white wine in the fridge. A brief look passed between my father and mother before dad cleared his throat and seemed incredibly engrossed with seven across. Mum glared at him before putting the spoon in her hand onto the spoon rest next to the hob. "Wedding dress emergency." Mum said , fussing me to sit down. "Bethany was having serious doubts about the fan tail dress with the pearl embellishments." The lie sounded hollow even to my disinterested ears. Beth had known which dress she wanted since she was 14, and nothing in heaven or earth could sway her from it. Poor Gary, her husband to be, hadn't known what hit him when she accepted his proposal. "Mum?" I asked, fixing her with my best `I know you're lying look'. "We, uh..." my dad looked at me and placed his pencil carefully on top of the paper. "We needed to talk to you alone about something." "This must be serious if it's stopped you from completing the Times." I tried to joke, a mirthless half smile my only reward. "What is it? Is something wrong?" Panic started to set in. For the girls to be missing, and the looks passing between my mother and father I began to fear the worst. "You remember your aunt Sheila?" Mum asked, sitting next to me and taking my hand. Sheila was the black sheep of the family. She was always a free spirit, so it shouldn't have been a surprise when she left her husband within three weeks of getting married, moved to a small Greek island and remarried a Greek sailor before the ink had even dried on her divorce papers. "Well, her son, Dimitri, is coming to study at the university." There was no doubt which university they meant. As far as mum and dad were concerned there was only one university they ever talked about, and that was the one in the city where I lived and up until June has studied at before graduating with a first class (honours). I remembered Dimitri as a scrawny little gangly child with grubby hands and a thick mop of curly, almost black hair, who followed me around almost constantly for the six weeks we spent on the island back when I was 13. The annoying little nine year old had an unnatural ability to track me down wherever I went, whenever I snuck off to try and have a sneaky wank (something I'd only learned about a month before while I was still 12 from the son of the pub landlord). "And this needed to be a private conversation why?" I asked, a pit already starting to form in my stomach. "Well, you know Sheila doesn't have a lot of money since her husband died, and the university fees coupled with the cost of the flights and clothes suitable for living in England has already stretched the limits of what she can afford." Mum rushed out. "Meaning that she can't really cover the cost of the student accommodation too." My dad piped in. "So we thought, what with you not needing all three bedrooms in the apartment." Mum continued. "That we pay for." Dad added. "That he could stay in your spare room while he's here." Mum finished with a certain finality that said she would brook no arguments over it. I'd been shanghaied, railroaded, and the worst thing was, I really couldn't say no. After all, they did own the apartment, and I genuinely didn't have any excuse why he couldn't stay in one of the spare rooms. They knew I used the one with the en-suite as my bedroom, and one as an art studio/office, but I could hardly tell them I kept the third one to use whenever I had a Grindr hook-up over so my own bedroom wasn't defiled by a stranger in my personal refuge. "No, I get it." I sighed, draining the glass of wine in one go. "He can stay with me." "Excellent." Mum clapped her hands and rubbed them together. "Now that's settled, get your shoes on and go with your dad to the airport to pick him up. His flight is due in half an hour and this dinner will be ready by the time you all get back." I almost choked in surprise. "He's coming now?!?" I quickly ran through the state of the spare room in my head. Had I cleaned it since Friday when I'd had, I want to say he was called Richard, over after a few drinks at the local gay bar and we'd fucked like rabbits all night? Had I emptied the waste basket or were the six condoms we'd gone through still in there? "Went down the wrong way?" My dad asked, looking at the empty wine glass I was clutching between my dangerously tight fingers, the stem feeling like it was about to snap at any minute. I carefully placed the glass down and let go. "How long have you known about this?" I asked, dreading the answer as I knew they'd gone to visit Sheila the day after my graduation. Had they been planning this since then? Had they made the offer then left me out of the loop until I had no choice but to say yes? A nervous glance passed between them. "Not long." Mum said at the same time dad said "let's not keep the boy waiting, come along Matthew." --- We drove to the airport in near silence, Classic FM playing some godawful plinky-plonk piano concerto quietly in the background. As my dad activated the indicator to turn into the airport he finally spoke up. "Look, I know it'll be an adjustment, but your mum has been trying to mend bridges between gran and Sheila. Did you know she's never even met Dimitri?" He sighed. "She's a stubborn woman, you're gran. 18 years old now and she's not even shown an interest in him once." Gran and I never really got on. She was a devout catholic, and aunt Sheila getting a divorce was a sin before God in her eyes. She failed to recognise her marriage to Vasilis as real, so when Sheila announced she was expecting Dimitri my gran had been almost apoplectic. The only reason she didn't denounce me for being gay was because mum had threatened to have nothing more to do with her if she couldn't accept me for who I was, and the triplets said the same thing. The fear of being totally alone with no family speaking to her any more outweighed her homophobic attitudes. Every time I saw her she still told me she would pray to God for me to see the light and denounce my sodomite ways, but at least she wasn't openly hostile towards him. We pulled into the medium stay car park and my dad complained about the cost of parking here with each step we took towards the arrivals area. We were in luck, as his plane had already landed, and passengers were starting to make their way through customs. Thankfully, Sheila had insisted on dual citizenship for Dimitri, so he could use the U.K. resident channel through passport control, which mean we shouldn't be waiting too long for him. "Dimitri!" My dad called out, drawing my attention away from the beautiful man I'd been practically drooling over, and cringed. My dad was practically jumping up and down waving to get Dimitri's attention, wherever he was. I gave one more glance at the most attractive man I've ever seen, my eyes searing up his thick legs, pausing for a brief second on the bulge at his crotch perfectly framed in the practically skin tight jeans, then to his bread chest and bulging biceps with the sleeves of his t-shirt digging in to the firm, hard muscles. When I finally looked back at his face I was met with the most beautiful smile with white teeth so perfect I practically heard the ping as light caught them. Why was he looking directly at us? Oh fuck, he's walking towards us. Did he see me checking him out? Wait... that hair, those eyes... it couldn't be, could it? "Uncle Artur!" He grinned as he stopped in front of us. "It is so kind of you to meet me from the aeroplane." Fuck, his voice was no longer squeaky and grating, but deep and smooth like warm honey. "And you must be Matthew. It has been so long!" He pulled me into a tight hug, his manly scent tinged with his cologne and a hint of sweat filling every fibre of my being. Oh fuck, my dick was starting to thicken. I needed him to let go of me, like right now before he felt it... I practically sighed with relief when he let go and hitched his backpack up onto his shoulder, his thick bicep flexing once more. The line from my mum's favourite romcom sounded in my head. "You in danger girl!" --- Feedback is always welcome.