Date: Mon, 23 Jul 2001 23:56:46 -0500 From: Eye_El_Bees Ashford Subject: My Cousin Josh chapter 1 My Cousin Josh Chapter 1 of ?? Chapter written: 23-July-2001 By: Eye El Bee Series Contains: t/t, t/b, t/b/b, b/b, t/t/b, m/t, m/m, oral, anal, muscle, domination, love, fantasy Chapter 1 Contains: t/t, setup, history, discovery, awareness (no sex) Requested Nifty Area: Young Friends or Incest ***** Permission is expressly granted to "Nifty Erotic Stories Archive" for unrestricted distribution. All other interested parties must contact me for approval prior to distribution or inclusion in any publication, online or otherwise. ***** My email address is: Eye_El_Bees@hotmail.com This is Version: 1.0 (X) Please look for Version: 1.0 (Non-X) once this is complete. There will be two versions of this series. The one you are currently reading is the X-rated version, containing sexual acts between people. I will craft a "less than X-rated" version of this series as well, to contain the same plot, but simply with all the sexual acts removed and will only be about the coming of age of a boy, some domination by a younger cousin, and the maturity gained through adolescence. ***** PLEASE TAKE NOTE: This story contains descriptions of sexual acts between boys Under the age of 18. If you do not care for stories of this type, or is illegal where you live, please read no further. While there may be depictions of force or domination, you will find that all characters are actually willing participants and all derive pleasure, not pain, from such events. This story is pure and total fiction, even though some of the characters, events, and small non-sexual events were based on true experiences. This story should serve as entertainment purposes only. The author does not recommend or condone the activities in this story. This story is told from the "first person" point of view (as in, it sounds as though the author is telling of personal experiences). While I am the author, this story is merely a fantasy and simply fiction -- no different from a murder novel. This story never really happened. This story is written with the full protections afforded by the First Amendment of the of United States of America: the Right to the Freedom of Speech. ***** And now, on with the story... -------------------------- My Cousin Josh Chapter 1 of ?? Chapter written: 23-July-2001 I remember the night as if it were yesterday. I remember lying in my bed in the dark with only a thin sheet covering me as I savored the cool fresh breeze flowing in from the window that occurs just after a storm. It rained like hell that night and the lightning and thunder and jarred me awake. *BOOM* and the house shook as I leaped up thinking a bomb had gone off... Then I heard the pounding rain, as it was propelled by the furious wind into the wood siding of our house. I jumped out of my bed and ran to the window and shoved the storm window closed... however, in that mere instant of standing in front of the window, my boxers and stomach had gotten completely drenched. I stood there for a minute, just watching the rain as it sprayed across the field and the trees as they bent to counteract the power of the wind. Every few seconds, another flash of brilliant lightning followed by an unearthly clap of thunder erupted. I knew that there was no way I could get back to sleep while all hell was breaking loose outside. I flicked on my desk lap and pulled off my boxers -- looked at them for a second, then decided to use the parts that were still dry to sop up the water on my stomach and legs. I threw the wet boxers into the corner and walked over to my dresser to get a dry pair. As I opened the draw, I noticed my reflection in the mirror above the dresser... I'd looked in that mirror every day, but tonight, in the pale shadows offered by the small desk lamp, I was a bit intrigued. Oh, I supposed I should tell you a few things about myself. My name is Rob.. well, actually Robert Roland Ashford, but I like Rob better. I'm 14, which you might guess if you saw me standing here in the buff putting on clean boxers. Hehe. Seriously though, I have a pretty good life. My father is an aviation engineer and my mother is a lawyer. We live in a rural area not too far from Indianapolis, Indiana on a farm. Yeah, that sounds strange, doesn't it? No, we don't farm it ourselves... my parents decided they wanted to move out of the city, and fell in love with this old big old farmhouse. I'm not exactly sure why they wanted it but they said it would be a better environment to grow up in than in the big city (um, like Indianapolis is a "big"? city). So anyway, it's just me, mom and dad in this huge old house. I think they were a bit nuts to move into a house with 5 bedrooms where there is just the 3 of us. But like parents do, they always have an answer for everything... They took 2 of the bedrooms and made them into home offices for themselves, and the other extra bedroom is a guest room. Now, I don't really care but there is a den downstairs too which would have made a perfectly good office, but they had an answer for that as well. They ripped it apart and made it into a "game" room, complete with a pool table, video games, a dart board, 2 couches, a TV, and a wet-bar. My parents have this thing about entertaining guests. But anyway, it's thier money I suppose. It's not like they don't share with me because they really do give me anything I want. I guess being an only child has benefits. :) I mean, I've got the coolest computer-a 486! with 32 megs of RAM and a 120 meg hard drive! What? You don't know what that is? Well, it's like the best computer you can get now in 1992! It's top of the line! Of, you didn't know it is 1992? Oh, yep.. it is .. It's 1992 and we have a new President... Bill Clinton! Dude, he is so cool and hip. Did you see him play his saxophone on TV? I'm so happy that Bush is outa here! Hey, what's with the funny look? You look bored... why is that? Oh, all this background and history is making you feel like the story is moving too slow. I'm sorry, I get that way sometimes in telling a story. It's so easy to start rambling on and on. Okay, I am sorry. I will try to stick more to the plot... but forgive me in advance if I sway off the road every now and again... so where were we? Yeah, it's 1992. I'm 14 (and 3 months). I'm in the 9th grade at the local high school. That was a big change for me because when we lived in Indianapolis, my parents sent me to a private school and most everyone there were rich stuck-up snobs. Who me? No, I never was a rich-stuck up snob. I really hated it there, but after 6 years, you get used to it. Moving out here to farm country and starting a new school where all the kids came from farm families (say "not rich") was a big wake up call. I'd grown so accustomed to life in private school that I am sure I came off as being "stuck up" my first day of school when I walked in wearing my designer jeans and clothes. I got a lot of strange looks and that very evening, I made my mom take me to KMart to buy new clothes. You know, cause I wanted to fit in and all. That helped. I made several friends quickly over the next few weeks and even got to visit some of them at their homes. Okay, never actually seeing a real "farm" other than the one I lived on, I was a little shocked by how.. um, what's the word for it? SIMPLE, they lived. I mean, compared to our farm house, my friends all seemed to live in shacks. Not that they were small, but that they were a bit run down and everything inside seemed a bit old and worn out.. the furniture, the wallpaper, the porch. Everything seemed dilapidated. After seeing my new friend's houses, I was scared to death and a little embarrassed to let them come to mine. I didn't want them to give me the same look they did on my first day of school. It was whole month from the time I started school until I let my first friend have a look inside our house. His name is Roger Jennings. Roger and I hit it off great and he introduced me to a lot of new stuff and taught me all about life living on his farm. I mean, it was odd... he got up at 5am every morning to help with chores, and went home right after school to help more, every day. Then his family had dinner around 8 and he did homework until 10 before going to bed.. and started the same routine the next day at 5! That was hell in my book. But fortunately, he did have time on the weekends to hang out. It was on a Saturday that I had made plans with him to hang out at my place. He arrived at around 1:00pm. I answered the door and let him in. He was just staring around in awe. I remember his first comment: "Oh my gosh! are you guys rich or what?" I had to calm him down and insist that no we were not rich, and that my parents just had well paying jobs. I guess I should clarify, yes we were living in this big old farm house - but, when my parents bought it, they spent almost a year having contractors gut it and restore everything to original condition, and then some. They had all the wood floors redone, they had all the intricate moldings stripped, repaired, and stained. They replaced the entry foyer flooring with Italian marble tiles. They replaced all the windows with custom built ones which look original. They stripped the walls of all the layers of old wallpaper, had then had them re=plastered and smoothed. The spent months finding the perfect light fixtures and chandeliers. Then, after the interior was perfect, they went out and bought all brand new furniture, much of it customer built, to look antique. I really have no idea what they paid, and honestly, I still don't care. I just didn't enjoy having to be embarrassed in front of my friend. Roger, however, dealt with it rather well. Him being kinda geeky (as I suppose I am too), we got along great. He really enjoys my computer (his parents couldn't afford one so he normally only can use one at school). Yeah, maybe he likes to hang out with me because I have a computer and other toys that he doesn't, but that's okay. I'm just glad I have a close friend here. One thing that does bother me is that I am.. well, not the most athletic person in the world. So I'm standing in front of my dresser mirror and am reminded of this fact. I'm 5'7" tall and weigh a whole 130 lbs. I've always disliked my "stick-boy" appearance and I even talked my mom into buying me a weight set recently. But, for whatever reason, I can't get motivated to work out with it regularly because I get bored and discouraged pretty fast. Wait, I mean, don't get me wrong, I don't feel like I'm worthless or anything because I am "stick-boy" -- I mean, I am pretty smart and I get straight A's, but I've always felt like I've gotten the short end of the stick on my build. And it doesn't help to go to school with a bunch of farm boys, who get exercise every day doing choirs. Even Roger, who is the same height as me, is almost 160lbs, and has muscles that pop out of places I never dreamed could. I mean, he's not "huge", but he's just go muscles in the right places that him look "fit". I look like a "stick"- stick-boy. Roger was spending the night a couple weeks ago when he said, "Hey, wanna arm wrestle?" I must have looked white as a ghost. I'd never won an arm wrestling match with anyone other than my 8 year old cousin Josh. (and that's pretty pathetic since I was 13 at the time) I tried to get out of it, saying, "Oh naw come on Roger, look at this arm... " as I did a little "flex" for him... "You'd cream me." But he was pretty insistent, "Well, maybe.. but let's just do it for fun. I promise I won't laugh at you or anything.." I felt sort of put on the spot since he did say he wouldn't make fun of me and so I really couldn't say no cause then he would think I didn't believe him. "Fine.", I said, with a little sigh added at the end. So we both laid down on my bedroom floor facing each other and locked hands preparing for battle. I already knew what was going to happen, but I had to at least look like I was putting up an effort. "Okay," Roger said, "we go on 3... ready? 1..... 2.... 3.....!" I took a deep breath and held it as I put up resistance to Rogers arm. Neither of our arms moved from the vertical position. I could feel the blood flowing into my face as I attempted to apply pressure. My eyes met Rogers and he smiled and said, "Wow, your stronger than I thought, dude!" I let out a little gasp and said, "Yep" in a forced raspy voice. I then tried to refocus on the contest, so I look down at our arms. As I strained against his force, I became fixated on comparing my forearm with his. His forearm was almost the same circumference of mine, maybe a little fatter.. but the difference was in the mass. My arms had forearms had flab and only the slightest hint definition. But Rogers looked "alive" with cords of defined muscle and veins exploding in them. I just stared and was amazed at the power he had in his arms. I couldn't see his bicep because of the shirt, but I could tell it that the shirt was draped over the contours of a lemon sized ball of power. This whole sad contest went on for another minute. As I tried and tried to overcome his strength, my entire arm started to vibrate as my muscles attempted to endure the strain. Roger looked straight at me and, in a totally sincere and compassionate tone, said, "Rob, I'm going to end this okay?" and with that, he smoothly and slowly lowered my arm to the floor. I rolled over onto my back in defeat and just shut my eyes. I heard Roger leap up and started jumping and chanting, "I am the champion of the world!!! I have the power!!! I am invicible!!!!!!!" It was too much for me. I sat up on the floor, with my back to him, hugged my knees and started sobbing like a baby. "Oh, yeah... Fuck Hulk Hogan, Roger the Destroyer is in Da House!!! woohoo!!!!!!!" I heard him continue to gloat. The tears filled my eyes and I felt so ashamed.. so without life... so without power. And then I noticed Roger had stopped his victory chants and it was silent. I could only hear myself sob and really didn't care where Roger had gone. "Rob?", I heard a voice ask quietly. I ignored it and tried to pretend it wasn't there. "Rob?", the voice came again... and suddenly, I felt a pair of hands on my shoulders. I kept sobbing. Then the hands started to softly massage my shoulders and I felt Roger's breath very close to my right ear.. he spoke, "Rob, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." and with that his hands moved from my shoulders to wrap around my chest, and his face was now resting beside mine on my shoulder. It seemed like forever, as I cried even harder as Roger held me, but it was probably only a minute or two later when he said, again in almost a whisper, "Come on, Rob.. let's get some sleep." I didn't move for several seconds, and that is when Roger got to his feet and started to lift me up by my underarms. I didn't resist. I walked over to my dresser and proceeded to start taking off my clothes. I stripped down to my boxers, as I did every night. I looked into my dresser mirror and saw Roger was doing the same, which was nothing new. Roger had stayed over many nights and I had seen him stripped down like this every time. It was nothing new, but it was still totally new. As I watched him remove his shirt, The contour of every muscle burnt itself into my mind. It was as if something snapped inside of me... something which had been waiting dormant to spring forth when I least expected it. It wasn't lust then. It wasn't love then. But just something inside me started to burn that I never could have imagined. Maybe it was from me watching him overpower my stick-boy arm, maybe it was how he consoled me after my defeat, I didn't understand. All I knew was that I wanted to be close to Roger. I wanted him to hold me and for time to stand still. I watched in the mirror as he shed the last pieces of clothing (his socks) and he climbed into bed. I couldn't move. I was dazed and didn't have any idea where I was or what was happening. Then he spoke, "So are you just going to stand there or are you coming to bed?" I was on autopilot. I had heard what he said, but I wasn't acting consciously... I just turned to the bed and crawled in under the covers. It was a big queen sized bed so there was lots of room for us. I laid down so I was almost falling off my edge of the bed, afraid to be any closer to him.. afraid of what I was feeling. He spoke again, "So are you going to shut off the lights or what?" I rolled over to face my nightstand and pressed the button on the remote to turn off the lights. It was suddenly almost total darkness with only the moonlight shining in. I curled up on the bed in a fetal position facing away from Roger, again, so close to the edge that I was almost falling out. Several minute past before I heard Roger speak again. "Rob, I'm really really really sorry. That was mean of me to do." I didn't say anything. He spoke again, "Come on man, you are freaking me out here. At least look at me! Please!??" I didn't move for a several seconds, contemplating the consequences my next action might bring. Then I rolled over to face him, leaving just 2 feet between us. I looked at his face with tears in my eyes in the moonlight glow. "Rob, come closer to me. I want to tell you something." I stared into his eyes and I was so afraid. I didn't move. "Okay, then I will come over there... ", he said as he started moving across the bed. I just froze. Before I knew what was going on, Roger had put his left arm around me and was looking down at me. He spoke, "Rob, you're my best friend. I didn't mean to hurt you or make you mad. " .. he paused and just looked into my eyes for several seconds before continuing .. "I love you, Rob." and with that, he leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. I was in shock or something. I didn't move as Roger laid his head on my pillow next to mine, leaving his arm around me. I just stayed still, afraid to move.. afraid that if I did anything, I would destroy this perfect feeling I had at this moment. I wanted time to stop. I wanted life to stand still and for Roger and I to stay just like this forever. I lay awake for a long time before sleep came, but it was not before I put my hand on his arm that I slipped into a dream of perfection.. I was confused. I was afraid. But I was complete, if only for that one night. ...................... End of Chapter 1 Chapter 2 will be released on 25-July-2001. Chapter 2 will find us fast-forwarding back to the night of the thunderstorm to pick up where Rob is just relaxing peacfully after the storm.. I apologize in advance if this story moves at an odd pace. I only ask that you read each installment completely, and in the end, I think you will enjoy it. Again, my email address is: Eye_El_Bees@hotmail.com