Date: Tue, 14 Sep 2021 12:43:35 -0400
From: Bottom the Weaver <bottomtheweaver34@gmail.com>
Subject: Cousin Chris Shows Me the Way - Part 5

Cousin Chris Shows Me the Way

By Bottom the Weaver


Thanks for all the emails and comments. I'm glad this story is connecting
with people and I hope you guys enjoy this latest chapter. It took me a bit
longer than I was expecting, but it's also a pretty long chapter in and of
itself. I hope it gets you as out of breath as it made me while writing.
Comments and emails can (and should) be sent to
BottomTheWeaver34@gmail.com.  I really appreciate all feedback and I love
hearing how this story might get you going.


For reference: this is a story about a 16-year-old boy and his 18-year-old
male cousin.Though if you're only finding out about that now, might I
suggest reading earlier chapters? Anyway, they get into some pretty sexy
high jinks. There's a pretty heavy theme of sub-dom play. If this isn't
your thing, then I've got good news: you don't have to read it.


This story is released under creative commons. Please consider donating to
the Nifty Archives so they can continue hosting stories like this. I hope
this story gets you as hard as it had me writing it.


-----------------------------------------------------


Chapter 5 -




We did a weekly rental for the bikes. I'm not sure how much it cost but as
we were putting on helmets in the shop Chris casually asked me, "You ever
do summer work?"


I had not. Never. My mom had never pressured me to get a job yet. I think
she was worried it might interfere with my school work. And I'd usually
spent summer on a prolonged stay-cation. "No," I responded before
remembering something. "Though I remember her saying something about
Mr. Logan needing some painting done..."


"Who's Mr. Logan?" he asked stapping on his helmet. It was black and
shiny. We had to rent those too.


"He's a neighbor. He's kind of weird." My mind flashed back to earlier in
the morning as I ran past him in my jockstrap. He had yelled at me:
*Looking good Greg!* He was notorious around the neighborhood for gardening
in just his bathrobe. I'd recently avoided interacting with him. His slight
tuft of chest hair poking out of his robe or whatever open shirt he was
wearing made me nervous and until very recently I hadn't allowed myself to
admire the body of another man.


"Well," said Chris with his casual smile, "If we want to have fun this
summer we might think of ways of picking up some extra cash." He said this
as he straddled his bike. He gripped the handles like he was a seasoned
biker and for all I knew he probably was. He started pedaling forward and
turned back to me. "You ready, cuz?"


-----------------------------------------------------


Excluding a big bridge over the interstate, the journey was mostly flat and
easy. I could tell Chris was adjusting his pace so I could keep up with
him. It had been ages since I'd ridden my bike around the neighborhood when
I was a kid, but I guess riding a bicycle was a lot like... riding a
bicycle. It came back to me quickly.


That said, the journey was a good length and the hill was right before my
neighborhood and by the time we reached my driveway my shirt was damp with
sweat and my butt was sore from not having ridden in a while. "How are you
doing, cutie?" he asked, unstraddling his bike and wiping his face with the
base of his shirt. Half of his naked torso was revealed. Even though I'd
seen him shirtless several times now I couldn't help but catch my breath at
the sight of his flat abdomen. Shit, he was hot.


"I'm okay," I semi-lied. The journey back had actually been a lot smoother
than the walk to the mall, not counting the ride over the bridge, but I was
still pretty exhausted. The light of the afternoon dimmed around us, though
the sun was definitely still out, just slanted. The light tinged everything
at an angle and within an hour or two it would be gone completely. "How are
you?" I said, trying not to sound out of breath.


Chris flashed a grin and approached me as I dismounted my bike. He opened
his hands and enveloped me in a sweaty smelly hug. "I'm good now," he said,
breaking slightly and running his hand along the right side of my
face. "You hungry?" He smiled down at me but his face remained inscrutable.


I didn't know how to take the question. Was I hungry for dinner? Was I
hungry for something more? Either way, the answer was the same: "Starving,"
I said.


He leaned down and kissed me. His lips met mine and before I knew it he was
pressing his body against mine and his tongue within my mouth. My body
froze temporarily. We were still in the driveway. Still visible to the eyes
of nosy neighbors. This is not something cousins should do, let alone in
public, but the shock was overcome with immediate desire and I instantly
pressed my body against his, my cloth-covered now hard dick pressing into
the side of his thigh. I returned the kiss with abandon and all of my
pent-up sexual energy from our unfulfilled encounter in the dressing room
with Kai felt ready to explode in my boxers.


Chris lowered his hand from my back and put it palm first against my groin,
our tongues still locked in a lovers quarrel. I felt the head of his hand
against my stiff dick throbbing against it. I shifted slightly feeling the
friction from my boxers move against the head of my penis. I knew I had cum
earlier that morning but after our afternoon I was ready to shoot a bucket
right here and right now drenching his hand through my shorts. He broke off
the kiss. "Oh, you are fucking ready, aren't you, Cuz?"


He squeezed slightly and all I could make out was a little high-pitched
murmur of assent. "Uh-huh..." I breathed out. One more squeeze would do me
in. Instead, he hovered malevolently.


"But I haven't told you you could, have I?" He asked. His voice was
sharper. I couldn't believe he was throwing this card. I was right on the
verge. There are only so many things a person could control about their
body.


"Come on, Chris," I pleaded. My voice was small, like a piccolo coming out
of my body. Just one more squeeze, just a bit of relief, that's all that I
wanted.


Instead, his hand reached back up and patted my face. It wasn't exactly a
pat, more like between a pat and a slap. It sort of woke me back up from my
reverie. He "patted" me again. "Nope," he said, rolling his tongue through
his smile, "Not yet." And he released me turning back to the house, "Come
on," he said, "Let's figure out dinner."


---------------------------------------


For one of the few times I'd been with Chris I felt slightly superior to
him as he opened up kitchen cupboards in confusion. "Uhmmm... uh..." he
said, clearly at a loss.


"What are you looking for?" I asked.


"Uhmm..." he murmured, "Hamburger Helper?" His voice was confused and
hopeless and I realized for the first time that there might be something
(besides computer modeling) that I might be better at than him.


"What do you want to eat?" I asked him. I knew Mom had left a fridge and
freezer full of food and meat and our pantry was stocked in case of climate
change disaster that my mom was always predicting. Being an only child to a
single mom, she'd taught me to cook from an early age. It wasn't something
I did all the time, but in middle school in order to skip home-ec so I
could take computer science instead, mom had convinced the principal to
give me a pass if she promised to teach me an equivalent course at home. So
for three years, every week I'd had to prepare different meals for me and
my mom, usually on Saturdays, so I could prove that I'd learned how to run
home economics. We had to take pictures of each meal and send them in as
proof and everything.


In other words, I knew my fucking way around the kitchen, unlike the
brick-built brute who was currently stumbling his way through the pantry.


Chris turned to me, exasperated. "I don't know," he confessed, "I usually
just eat whatever my mom or sisters make..." For the first time since I'd
met him, he seemed sheepish.


I grabbed him by the waist. It felt so good to feel his firm body against
my forearm. As hot as he looked when he was completely in charge (which was
95% of the time) I had to admit he looked even hotter clueless and
vulnerable. It was a side of Chris I hadn't seen before. "Do you want to
learn to cook something?" I asked him.


Chris instinctively rolled his eyes. "Not really," he said.


Once more, for the first time, I felt emboldened to smack him on his
ass. It was a sharp crack of a sound and his ass was smooth and round and
it definitely got his attention. He looked at me sharply with an expression
that either said, "What the fuck did you just do?" or "Hmmm... That was
unexpected."


I decided to roll with the second option and hoisted myself on the kitchen
counter and lecture him. "You're about to go to college. Or wherever. You
gotta learn how to take care of yourself."


Chris stared at me for a moment, his expression still like granite, but
then he smiled slightly and said, "Okay, champ. What can you teach me?"


Believe it or not, Chris had never made pasta, which still astounds me. I
literally had to show him how to boil water, salt it, put the pasta in pot
and time its readiness, and strain it, not to mention heating up the sauce
in a separate pan and using a colander to strain it. The amazement on
Chris's face was like an Amazon native encountering western culture for the
first time. I loved and admired Chris, but as I coached him through dinner
I thought for the first time, this guy is a fucking dork. A hot as hell
dork, but a dork nonetheless.


I let Chris handle the pasta and sauce while I heated some Swedish
meatballs in the oven. There were some appliances I wasn't ready to trust
him with quite yet. By the end, Chris had helped make two delicious bowls
of angel hair with garlic marinara sauce and classical meatballs on top
with minimal complications.


The two of us sat down for a feast. "You made this," I said grinning at
him.


He grinned back and paused meaningfully. "I think this is the first meal
I've ever cooked." he said, "Besides, like, a sandwich."


"Making sandwiches isn't cooking," I corrected him.


"I'll have you know I've also put pop tarts in a toaster," he said twirling
his fork clumsily, spraying sauce everywhere.


"That doesn't count," I scolded him, eating a forkful of my own. I
instinctively reached for his legs under the table, feeling his own hairy
legs against my own. He pressed back.


"Fuck you," he said cheekily and then glanced around the kitchen and then
back at me, "How did you learn to do this stuff?"


I furrowed my brow, "My mom taught me," I told him. Then I went and
explained how I'd been making dinners since the sixth grade.


"That's crazy," he said, "I never even thought to try to skip in favor of
shop."


"You took shop?" I asked. It had never occurred to me to try to take that
class. Drills and saws freaked me the fuck out.


"Obviously," He said without hesitation, and then came the hesitation. He
speared a piece of meatball and chewed slowly before continuing. "Listen,
look, I..." He began before pausing again. He began forking another slurp
of pasta before continuing. "When I was a kid and figuring things out, I
had a really fucked up understanding of masculinity," he said. "I don't
know what it was like for you, but I figured out pretty quick that I liked
dick and I also figured out pretty quick that that was not okay, that that
was bad news. I didn't want to be like that, you know."


I frowned. Chris seemed so muted, so unsure. I'd never seen him like this
before especially when it came to his own identity. "You didn't want to be
gay?" I asked him.


"No," he said bluntly, "I didn't. I tried everything I could do. I tried to
walk straight. Doo guy things. I did shop and P.E.. I joined every sports
team I could. That turned out super counterproductive. Spending your middle
school in puberty constantly in the shower room with other teenage boys. It
definitely didn't make me feel less gay. It only made it worse."


"When did you know? I mean, how did you come out?" I asked, genuinely
curious.


Chris paused again. He was chewing. He made it all down and continued, "I
fell in love," he said.


"You...?" I sputtered.


"For the first time. He was my best friend. Peter. I thought I was just
jealous at first. He was like me, in all the sports. Super toned. Super
hot. Super nice. We would spend weekends running laps around the park and
then come back to my house to play Super Smash Brothers. I... uh..." I
could see a faraway look form in his eye, "I was obsessed. I thought about
him all the time. I started thinking about him when I jacked off," he said.


Just the visual of a younger Chris jacking off started to make me hard
again. His hairy calf wrapped around my own didn't exactly help. "Did you
ever tell him?" I asked, enrapt.


"Sort of? Eventually?" He said cautiously, "I started trying to wear less
clothing around him. Started to get up. I'd pee with the door open so he
could see. I convinced myself he wanted it too."


The thought of Chris peeing openly with the door open made my cock strain
harder. "Did he?" I asked as if the question wasn't obvious. Who wouldn't
worship Chris with his dick out peeing through an open door?


Chris laughed. "No. He's super straight. Like SUPER straight. That guy eats
pussy for breakfast."


"Oh," I said, my cock deflating slightly, "I'm sorry."


"Don't be. It's what finally got me out of the closet. For a couple of
months all I could think about, all I could fantasize about was
Peter. Eventually, it got too much. We were hanging out on the couch one
night. He was telling me about a really personal story about how he didn't
feel worthy of his dad or his brothers and I put my hand on his thigh and I
leaned over and kissed him and he sparked back like he'd been kicked in the
head."


Chris was smiling, making light of the story but I could tell there was
pain under his expression. "What happened?" I asked.


"I... I confessed my feelings. I told him I loved him. He... he
understood." he said. His words were weighted, "He's a really cool dude and
really close friend. But in the end he didn't love me back. At least not in
that way." His tone had dropped off, so low I could barely catch the last
few words. My heart caught, not in a sexual way or romantic way. I felt for
my cousin in empathy. I could picture the scene in my head and my heart
broke with his rejection.


I tried to muster something to say. I reached across the table and touched
his forearm, "I'm sorry..." I said, "That sounds awful."


Chris smirked ruefully, "It's okay," he said, "I mean he's awesome and
we're still close friends to this day. It's all cool." In an instant he had
reverted from a sad-sack to the confident jock I'd known through our three
days together, "Honestly, I'm glad it happened because it taught me a good
lesson."


"What's that?" I asked polishing off the last of my angel hair.


"Don't fall for straight guys. Or guys who think they're straight. You know
what they used to write at the end of old maps?" He asked.


I shook my head, "No," I replied.


"There be dragons," he said. He winked at me and hooked his other leg
against my own. Both of us were now finished with our meal, and a good one
if I didn't say so myself. "And besides," he winked, "It's way hotter to
hook up with gay guys who want it."


"You speak from experience?" I asked.


"I do," he winked at me, "As soon as I got over chasing straight cock, I
realized how fucking amazing it was to be gay. Believe me, I have plenty of
straight friends and I get way more sex than all of them combined."


"...Really?" My throat felt parched. I was now out of water, but I didn't
want to get up and get more. I was hooked on his story. "But... how?"


"You ever heard the phrase: Men are pigs?" he asked.


I nodded in response.


"It's true, we are. What do you think about all the time?" He asked me.


"Uh... school work, usually," I answered.


"You're such a fucking liar. You think about sex, don't you? You're
thinking about it right now."


His legs shifted. My cock shifted back to the upwards position.  I tried to
ignore it, "No, I'm not," I said.


"You are such a fucking liar," he repeated. He reached below the table and
felt my hard cock press against my shorts. I let out a soft moan before he
released, "You should never play poker," he told me.


"It's not fair!" I complained, "You're constantly edging me on."


"Edging is right," he said with a glint in his eye, "But it's not just
me. What did you jack off about before I got here?"


I flushed. My mind flashed back to rubbing one out to his Facebook
photos. I tried to hide my epiphany but his legs grasped harder to my
own. "I don't remember," I told him.


"You should never play poker. You're a bad fibber. It's one of the reasons
you're so fucking cute," he said. Then out of nowhere, like a steel dagger
he kept hidden on his person his voice changed. It became more direct, more
demanding. "Who did you jack off to? What were you watching?"


I stumbled over my words. I felt flush. "Chris..." I tried to chide.


"Tell me," he said. It was that hard edge again. This wasn't just an
innocent question. It was another command.


I sighed briefly and lowered my head, "It was you. I jacked off to you."


"Without meeting me yet?" He was smiling now. If he had been wearing makeup
and was missing half his forehead he'd look like Pennywise.


"Yes..." I admitted. I felt his legs tighten even more against mine. My
cock was at this point bleeding precum against my boxers and shorts.


Chris smirked once again, giving me a pulse of a squeeze from his
legs. "You wanna know something funny, cuz?" He asked.


I was ready for the humiliation to be over. I was half prepared to just
excuse myself to the bathroom and relieve myself right there. Instead, I
glumly responded with a "What?"


"The morning before I got on that plane to come here, you know what I was
jacking off to?"


I shrugged. At this point, I felt humiliated. Why had I pressed him on
these personal details when I knew he'd just turn them around to me.


"I jacked off to you," he said looking me dead in the eyes, "I jacked off
in anticipation of what I wanted to do with you. I jacked off hoping you
were gay or bi or whatever. I jacked off thinking what I could do with
you."


I gulped. "How did you know?" I rasped, "About me?"


"I didn't," he said with a grin as wide as the sea, "I just hoped. But when
I got to the airport and I saw you with those balloons."


I felt myself redden even more. "I am so sorry," I apologized, "That was
really my mom. She thought--"


Chris laughed, "I know silly. Your mom is awesome and awesomely
embarrassing. Honestly, she's my favorite aunt. But that's not how I knew."


"How did you know?" I asked.


"Greg, you're a smart kid but you're fucking obvious. Your eyes were
running up and down all over my body. You ever hear the expression, `My
Eyes Are Up Here?', well your eyes were not up there if you catch my
meaning."


I didn't think it was possible to flush harder. I leaned my head down and
whispered into the table, "I'm sorry."


Chris leaned over and twisted my nipple. It came sharp and out of the blue
and I yelped in response. "Don't ever apologize for checking someone
out. That's how we know each other. That's how I knew we'd get a fucking
blow job from that tailor at the mall."


My eyes widened. "You knew?" I asked incredulously.


Chris beamed, "Of course," he said nonchalantly, "Why do you think I asked
him to help us?" He smiled. His perfect teeth gleamed. At that moment all I
wanted to do was lean over and kiss him but I resisted.


"You're crazy," I told him. The words fled through my mouth before I
realized their truth. Chris was crazy. At least he was not sane in the way
any of my friends of adult figures would ever act. My cousin was a brazen
nymphomaniac and I had somehow been caught up in his cyclone. I tried to
get up but his legs held me fast.


He nodded, "Probably," he said, "But anyone worth knowing has a little
craziness in them, cuz." His legs then released me. "Let me help you wash
up." Then, before I could, he stood up from his chair, carrying his now
polished plate, and walked over to the sink.


------------------------------------------------


Once we'd finished cleaning up the kitchen we both stood and looked at each
other. Chris's face was a mask of unreadability. I had been hard the entire
time because I assumed we'd get into hanky panky afterward. I mean what
else would a couple of gay teenagers do for the evening?


"What do you want to do?" I asked, moving my eyebrows in a move that at the
time I thought was provocative but in retrospect, I could only imagine as
complete and utter cringe.


"How about another movie night?" he asked.


 I felt myself give off a reflexive pout and then course-corrected. "Okay,
sure," I said, "What do you wanna watch?"


Chris raised his eyebrows noncommittally. "I've got an idea for a double
feature. But first, you should take a shower."


Blood flowed back to my member before confusion set in. The last time I'd
showered had been earlier that morning and the shower had been with Chris
and that was also the last time I'd cum and I'd cum with his fingers deep
inside my rectum. Did he want a second go? I wasn't complaining but it felt
weird. "Are you going to join me?" I asked.


Chris shook his head. "No, I'm good. I'll do it afterward," he said. I
couldn't help but feel disappointed. Then he continued, "But I'm gonna
watch you. Make sure you get good and clean and make sure you don't break
any rules."


Rules? I searched my mind. The only major rule we'd established, except for
me obeying his orders, was that I couldn't cum unless he let me. I stared
at him. He stared back. We seemed to invisibly communicate in that
silence. He was right. If I left totally to go shower by myself there
wasn't a force on this planet that would stop me from sending a white salty
load down the shower drain.


But there was one force that would stop me and that was Chris. My mind
registered torture. At least that's how it felt to me, after this
morning. Who would ever want to shower by themselves when you had a cousin
as hot as he was to help you? I couldn't imagine showering by myself again,
let alone with him just watching me, not joining in.


"Chris..." My voice pleaded. It wasn't so much the fact that he asking me
to shower as it was him abandoning me to a lonesome bath of falling water.


"I'm telling you to shower," he said the hard edge back in his voice, "You
can back out if you want to but that's your one get out of jail free
card. It's up to you..."


I blinked slowly. No. It wasn't worth it. I could take a shower. I could
even take a shower despite having been hard most of the day without jacking
myself to completion. It would be painfully hard, just like my penis but I
could manage. I unclenched my fists and acquiesced. "Okay," I said, "I'll
shower."


"Good," said Chris walking towards me and fingering my loose shirt collar,
"Because today you'll never wear these clothes again." He put up his other
hand and with one swift motion ripped my shirt down the middle, my skinny
naked torso exposed.


I involuntarily gasped. That was my shirt! It was one of my
favorite... uh... grey identical t-shirts... still...


He leaned down and grasped the waistline of my shorts and boxers. Before I
could react he yanked them down and I was standing nude in front of my
cousin, my dick once again hard almost smacking him in the face.


"Step out," he commanded and without thinking I did. I still had my shoes
and socks on. He then grabbed my left foot and repeated his command. In one
yank I stepped out of both my shoe and sock. He grabbed the other one and
before he could tell me I did the same. I now stood in the kitchen, my
ruined shirt on the floor and my other clothes likewise laying discarded on
the tile. Chris kneeled in front of me, his chin inches from my cock which
beat in time with my heart rate. The transformation happened so suddenly
and so completely it was like the opposite of that scene in Cinderella.


Chris reached out a finger and caught a bit of pre-cum dripping off my
cock. He very slowly took the drip, a long line of drool connecting his
finger to my glistening slit, and brought it up to his lips. He put the
drop in his mouth and looked up at me. My cock throbbed in front of his
face. "You taste good, Greg," he said, "You ever taste yourself?"


I nodded weakly. He reached back and held his finger against the underside
of my swollen head coating his index finger in my juice. He then stood back
upland raised his now glistening finger near my face. He didn't have to say
the words for me to know what to do. I lightly parted my lips and his
finger slowly approached my open jaw. He began rubbing my bottom lip,
almost as if he were applying chapstick. I couldn't help but put my tongue
out and taste myself, my sweet precum now slathered all over my lips.


He put his finger in my mouth and I instinctively closed down. It tasted
salty and sweet and the fact that it was both him and me that I was tasting
made it all more delicious. He started moving his finger forward and
backward. I raised my tongue and felt his finger slide back and forth
coating my tastebuds with oil and salt.


He then inserted his middle finger. With his left hand he reached down and
began to fondle my balls which instantly contracted. I let out a little
moan and felt myself dribble down the underside of his left arm. "Don't you
cum, boy," he warned me. "Don't you fucking cum."


"I can't..." I panted, trying to explain my dilemma, "I can't."


He then suddenly gripped my balls. I gasped sharply.. "You can," he said,
"And you're going to. Understand me?"


I was standing on my tippy-toes right now, completely naked. My balls were
clutched by my cousin in one hand, his fingers fucking my mouth with the
other. All I could do was whimper out a meek nod.


Chris slowly withdrew his fingers and simultaneously let go of my
nut-sack. I felt myself exhale a deep breath I hadn't realized I was
keeping. He then swatted my bare buttock with his hand. The smack echoed
through the kitchen. He grinned, "Now go and take a shower boy," he said, a
mischievous grin on his face, "I'll join you shortly."


-----------------------------------------------


It felt weird walking from the kitchen, through the living room completely
naked. Not only was I naked but I was hard as a slab of concrete. My penis
waved back and forth as I walked and an indescribable amount of precum
dripped from cock, leaving wet patches on my thigh as I walked and the
occasional dollop that rolled out of my piss slit and left marks on the
carpet like a snail who moved like a chess knight, bounding from one random
square to another.


It sincerely took all of my power not to reach down and touch myself. When
I did glance down at my dick I noticed that it looked red and puffy. I'd
never seen it look that way before and even as I walked I felt as if I
could feel the very air move against the head of my penis, so engorged and
sensitive it was.


*Fuck* I thought, *This is going to be impossible.*


I got to the sliding doors of the bathroom and stood perplexed. This was
the first time I'd stood in front of the shower without needing to take
clothes off first. I usually put on clothes in my room, sheepishly walked
the length of the hallway to the shower, took off my clothes, showered,
toweled off, and then put my clothes back on. My immediate nudeness felt
both weird and kinetic. I leaned forward and let my open dick touch the
sliding glass. The feeling of the cold slick surface against my member felt
amazing. I leaned forward a bit more and felt my dick slick upwards against
the surface. I looked down and a thin layer of slime had traced its way in
its wake.


It felt amazing and I shifted my pelvis back, tracing my cock along the
translucent surface of the shower divider and then forward again. Oh
fuck. I wasn't technically breaking any rules, I thought to myself. If I
came spontaneously by just interacting with my environment then so be
it. But before I could make a thrust for a third time I heard a yell from
across the living room.


"Don't you fucking dare!" Shouted Chris. He was storming in. His hands were
wet, from washing them I guessed. He strode across the living room like a
librarian rushing to shush a drunk. "Get!" He shouted, "Get in the fucking
bath. Turn it on and step in."


I was so surprised that my dick slightly shrank but with so much blood
having been pumped in over the last few hours it was still big. If my cock
looked like this big soft I wouldn't be nearly as embarrassed taking a
shower in the gym locker room. But I didn't have much time for self
reflection. I opened up the sliding door, put my hand on the lever, turned
on the water and stepped in, just as Chris walked through the door.


The water was instantly cold and my body recoiled backwards, though I had
one hand on the knob and I turned it towards heat and eventually got it to
a tolerable temperature. On the other side of the glass Chris sat, legs
spread staring at me.


"Thought you could be clever," he said. His voice was once again
different. It was almost as if he were putting on a role. It was not the
same voice he'd been chatting with me during dinner. There was a deep
quality, like a piece of lead stuck in his throat. As I watched him through
the glass his eyes bore into me. I felt suddenly naked and vulnerable which
wasn't that surprising as I was both of those things. "Thought you could
get off without me watching..."


I reached instinctively for my crotch. Chris's voice stopped me. "Stop," he
commanded. Through the steam and heat, his voice hit like fire. I flinched
my hand away. The spray of the warm water hit my body, and my cock now
inflamed by Chris's presence rose back to full mast. I could feel every
spray of water hit me, especially my head and shaft. "Get clean, boy,"
Chris's voice rang out through the ether.


I turned to him and again his eyes bore into mine. There was a subtle
motion and I noticed his hand on his lap slowly but surely rubbing against
his groin. The one thing I wasn't allowed to do. "I want you to scrub
yourself clean," Chris continued, "For each body part you scrub I'll take
off a piece of clothing." I swallowed. Hard. It felt like I'd swallowed my
entire adam's apple. "With one exception," he clarified, "Don't you fucking
touch your cock. I'll clean that later." You could hear the smirk in his
voice.


I looked down. My cock was once again throbbing. I looked back to Chris
with a wise-ass look on his face. "Start with your chest," he said and
without thinking I reached out and grabbed the loofa from the corner shelf
and began filling it with body gel. I began rubbing it all over my
torso. Suds flew everywhere. I looked back at Chris who smiled approvingly
and then without getting up he reached back and drew up his tank top over
his head.


It was hard to take a deep breath in the midst of the steam of the shower,
but my body reflexively tried to. Jesus Christ, as familiar as I'd gotten
with Chris I'd sort of forgotten what a fucking Greek God he was. As the
fabric peeled across my chest and along his seemingly permanently erect
nipples, I felt myself lose balance and my knees buckle. I caught myself on
the side door rail and straightened. I looked back at Chris who continued
to stare at me, now shirtless and fucking gorgeous, his hand still
massaging that mound of flesh in his shorts.


"Now your legs," he said, his tone still sharp and utterly
commanding. Without hesitation, I reached down and began to run the loofa
across my legs. As I did so I began to myself outside myself. Here I was,
slowly and seductively bathing myself for my hot cousin. As hot as his
striptease was for me, it suddenly occurred to me that he was getting
something out of this too. I paused, midstroke, and then slowed down. I
deliberately made my way down the long side of my right leg. My arm flitted
past my still erect cock. It was a strange feeling both sensations, my arm
scraping againt my tender head, my dick leaving drool along my forearm. But
both were intensely erotic especially as Chris watched me intently from
behind the glass shower divider, continually rubbing his cock through his
shorts.


"Your other leg," he said. His voice sounded a bit hoarse. I couldn't tell
if it was from the steam or from something else. This time I bent down the
other way coming close to pressing my ass up against the glass. This is
what he wanted to see, I realized. I opened my legs wider as I washed down
the front of my left leg and all the way to my toes, my ass now pink and
wide in front of him. I tried to look through my legs and through the glass
but the rim of the tub was in my way. As I positioned my way in this
fashion, ass raised presenting like a baboon in heat, I saw his figure
stand up. The glass was now fogged with condensation but I could see his
figure on the other side, hands hooked through the sides of his shorts, and
with a slow deliberate push he lowered them leaving only a skin-tight white
brief holding his clearly straining cock at bay.


I couldn't help myself, I leaned backward and rubbed my ass against the
divider. I was half worried it might fall over and topple against him but
he stretched out his hands to brace the barrier and pushed himself against
the glass. I pushed my ass back harder now, knowing he had it under control
and likewise I could feel the pressure of his body push back against me. I
began slowly arching my back gyrating against the pane of glass. In tandem,
his own body seemed to follow my movements and this semi-naked hunk began
slowly humping against the divide. I wondered briefly if this is what my
gym teacher Mrs. Vermeer meant when she lectured us about safe sex. As
inappropriate as this was there was no way either of was catching an STD,
let alone getting anyone pregnant.


I was still bent down, still feeling the glass pressed firmly against my
gluteus maximus, the rain of water still sprayed all over my body, dripping
from each joint, when I felt the world tilt. My butt went sideways and I
steadied myself along the wall, reaching a standing position. I turned to
find that Chris had opened the sliding door and stood almost naked at the
precipice. Without a word, he stepped into the shower.


"I uh..." I muttered, not enough blood in my brain to make a cogent
sentence, "I thought you weren't going to--"


"Turn," he said gruffly. And before I could even register the instruction,
he grabbed me by the shoulders and twisted my body around so I now faced
the back of the shower. My hands flew out to the sides to steady myself and
I felt Chris step forward and press his tall now wet body against my
back. His hands reached around to my chest and pressed me close. I could
feel his cotton-clad dick throb against my tail bone.


"Oh shit..." I sighed, and pressed back against him.


I felt his tongue run along my left ear, his breath hot against my
neck. "You have no idea," he said his low voice barely a whisper, "How much
I want to fuck you senseless. Right here, right now.


My hand instinctively, without thought moved down to my crotch. He swiftly
grabbed it with one hand and then my other hand and held them both together
tightly behind my back. He put his free hand against the base of my lower
back and pushed me forward. My ass was now wide and open and I could feel
him slowly rubbing along my virgin hole. I pressed back.


He yanked my hands back pushing me closer to him. "Oh yeah, you are such a
fucking slut. You have no idea," he growled. "But you're not finished
washing up."  Still grasping my locked hands, he bent down and picked up
the loofa I had dropped. He gripped me closer, "But don't worry buddy,
cousin's got you covered."


I felt the soft sudsy sponge begin to slide over my buttocks. He had
stepped back now, gently washing my buttocks like a painter coating it in
soap. He stepped aside briefly, his hand never loosening from my locked
wrists and I felt hot steamy water rain down my back and upturned rear.


I could feel myself panting. He gripped my hands tighter and said, "Keep
them there," before releasing. I don't think I could have moved my hands
from behind if I'd wanted. He then reached around and gripped my balls.


"Oh fuck!" I yelled. He gripped them tighter.


I now felt a finger trace along the edge of my rosebud. He was toying with
me now. I would have pressed back against his finger, forcing it into me,
but with his grip on my balls I wasn't moving anywhere. "And don't fucking
cum," he said and then his finger entered me.


My whole body convulsed. "Don't..." he warned as his finger entered deeper
inside.\


"Fuck me..." was all I could muster in reply. It was both an exclamation
and request.


"Fuck dude, you are so fucking tight. I love it." He was moving it in and
out now.


I felt my chest contract and my face scrunched together like a crushed
can. "Oh fuck," I sputtered, "Oh fuck, oh fuck."


I leaned down, I felt his chest press against my back, his finger still
sliding back and forth along my anal walls. Hot water dripped from both of
us. "You close, cuz?"


All I could do was barely eke out a moan. I vaguely nodded my head. His
finger felt so good inside me. Even with his cock firmly grasping my
testicles I could feel them contract, I could feel the cum well up inside
me.


And then his finger came out and he released me and stood back. I gasped in
shock. I leaned back and spun around, arms still behind my back in
protest. Chris stood there in the shower, still in his white briefs made
translucent from the hot steam and water that sprayed all around us. He
smiled at me, that same stupid sexy grin. He was a fucking devil.


"Chris!" I protested. I literally felt hurt. My pink cock pulsed from my
groin. I felt like exploding in lust and frustration and an Amazon river's
worth of semen.


"Did I say you could cum?" He asked pointedly.


I frowned. I felt like crying. "No, but..." I pouted, "I've been hard all
fucking day!"


Chris grinned wider if such a thing were possible. "I know. That's how I
like you," he said. I felt desperate. He was teasing me.


"No butts," he said, "He said, except for that cute one right there."


"Chris," I was now pleading. I could feel tears well up in my eyes,
"Please."


"No," he reiterated. His voice soft but firm. "You came once today already
and I'll let you cum again later but not right now. You have to learn
control."


I couldn't help it. I unclasped my hands hit the glass barrier hard. Not
enough to shatter or anything but it did wobble. My face was beet red with
frustration. "That's not fair!" I shouted, "You're a fucking asshole!"


Chris just stood back unphased, still smiling. "That may be, but I'm still
not letting you cum," his voice was calm, methodical. "But for a
consolation prize I'll let you watch me." He hooked his thumbs under the
waistband of his completely soaked undies and slid them slowly down his
thighs, his cock bouncing up from release. He stepped out of them and
kicked them to the side. He took one hand and ran it along his right nipple
and with the other began tenderly and slowly rubbing it along his shaft.


I just stood there and gaped. I was too mesmerized to get frustrated at the
unfairness of it all.


"Kneel down," he commanded, "I want you to get a front-row seat."


I complied, gingerly getting to my knees in front of him, legs pressed
against the wet porcelain of the shower floor, water dripping from my
fevered face. I looked up. He towered above me, teasing his nipple and
slowly fucking his hand. Without thinking my hand went to my groin.


"Hands behind your back, slut," he barked.


In a flash they were there. He inched forward. And reached over with the
hand that had been on his chest and gripped me firmly by the back of my
hair and pivoted my head upward. I looked up, my mouth gaping open as his
swollen fat cock dripped water and precum all over my face. He smiled, "Oh
fuck yeah," he said, "This is how I like you. You like that dick?" He asked
and then he released it. It plopped against my face. It was hot and smooth
and if his hand wasn't holding my head still I would have craned my neck to
suckle it. Instead, I put out my tongue determined to get a taste. "Oh
yeah, you're thirsty for it aren't you?"


I tried to nod my head but his grip was too tight. Instead I just managed a
"uh-huh..." sound with my tongue hanging out like a dog in a convertible.


"Oh fuck yeah," he said picking up the pace. He was holding his hand now in
place right above my nose as he began to thrust his hips in and out, each
time squeezing the head of cock as he reached the tip. He leaned his head
back, hair slick with water and sweat, eyes closed. He was bucking now. In
a fever frenzy.


He looked back down at me. I can only imagine what he saw. A skinny young
kid, mouth open, tongue out, hands clasped behind him, eyes almost crying
in desperation. A cock so hard between his legs it could break diamond.


"You want this load Greg?" he panted. His brow contorted in both ecstasy
and agony. I could tell he was getting close. Ropes of precum spotted my
taste buds as ribbons of water rained down from us both. "You want this
fucking seed?"


All I could do was let out a deep gutteral moan which if translated would
have meant, "Give it to me. Give it to me now!"


And he let out a series of primal grunts, each deeper than the first as his
body convulsed. I closed my eyes and felt hot sticky tar shoot across my
face, my cheeks, my hair. I opened them and he still wasn't
finished. Splashes of delicious played against my tongue. He was so fucking
sweet and satly. His hand loosed in the grips of his ecstasy and I used the
opportunity to lean forward and cover his cockhead with my mouth.


He was still sputtering out spunk, though slower now and I took my hands
from behind my back and draped them around my legs as I slowly swallowed
inches more of his shaft as he dribbled out more spunk along the back of my
tongue.


I went back and forth a few more times, as his cock slowly became less hard
and then I plopped it out of my mouth and looked back at him, my mouth and
face now spackled cream-colored with spunk. Chris had his eyes closed and
his body involuntarily quaked again. He opened his eyes slowly and looked
down at me, still kneeling before him. I smiled. He was so handsome.


Before I knew what had happened, the leaned down and lifted me up by the
armpits and before I could react his lips were on mine, his tongue in
mine. The introduction was sudden, almost violent but almost instantly it
became tender. His hand reached back and began stroking the back of my hair
firmly but tenderly. We broke and both gasped for air.


"You're fucking amazing," he said. His voice was different now. Gone was
the gruffness that had gone before. He wasn't even smiling. This was pure
vulnerability. "I am so fucking lucky to have you in my life," he said.


I don't know why but my eyes started welling with tears. I squeezed him
tighter. "I'm the lucky one," I corrected him. I reached up and ran my hand
across his cheek and chin. He seemed so soft now. So gentle. He stared back
at me with warm quiet eyes.


"We're both lucky," he said. There was no smirk. No affect. Just genuine
and unadulterated truth and as he said the words I knew they were true.


We kissed again, this time slower and more lovingly. I let his tongue
explore my mouth and he let mine explore his. My cock was still hard,
pressed up against the side of his thigh. His own cock still dribbled out
teenage cum down the length of my thigh as the water that coated began to
collect and slowly was it from my skin. I pulsed hungrily but I no longer
worried. I wanted to cum, it was true, desperately. But as we clung to each
other in the shower I knew I would eventually. I was in his hands, both
figuratively and literally and I was more than happy.


We broke off slowly and tenderly, giving each other little kisses as we
parted. Chris smiled and laughed, as he rubbed his thumb against my face
tracing globs of still sticky cum across my cheekbones. "I'm sorry," he
laughed, "I was supposed to get you clean."


I laughed back. "I can do another rinse," I smiled.


He patted my cheek warmly and gave me another quick kiss. "Okay," he said,
"Finish up. I'll go after you." He turned and slid open the glass shower
divider.


I caught him by the shoulder, "You don't have to wait," I told him, "You
can soap up with me."


Chris smiled long and hard and then glanced down at my swollen dick. "Next
time," he said, "But for now I don't want to risk any... accidents."


I flushed. "I can control myself," I told him. I didn't know if it was a
lie. I suspected it was.


Chris leaned over and kissed me again and then said, "I know you can,
babe. But I'm not so sure about me." He winked. It was so corny and so
adorable at the same time. And then he turned, as he stepped across the
threshold of the shower and into the bathroom and reached back and turned
the nozzle on the shower.


I was suddenly hit by cold water. I yelped back. "That should help. I want
you clean, buddy. You hear me?" He hollered back, sliding the door back
closed. I was momentary without breath.


"You bastard!" I yelled back.


Greg laughed as he grabbed a towel. "I love you, Greg." He shouted back.


I stopped. Cold water still pooled around my feet as I cowered in the far
corner. For some reason, my heart felt big in my chest. "You do?" I shouted
back.


Chris opened the shower divider back up. He put one foot in and grabbed me
by the shoulder and into another tight kiss. The water was freezing. My
entire body felt electrified and confused. My dick didn't know which way to
go. He broke it off and shook his head spraying cold water everywhere. "I
do," he smiled.


He stepped back out and closed the divider and I stood there stunned and it
took a couple of moments for me to register that I now stood in a shower of
cold water. I hadn't even registered. I looked down, my cock, still swollen
was for the first time since dinner going down. I inhaled deeply and
without flinching bent down to grab the twice-dropped Loofa, cold water
hitting my face like a brisk fist. I looked up and into it, ice water
streaming down my face. Let it hit me, I thought. I can take anything.


I looked back through the divider at Chris, now drying his hair. He smiled
at me and blew me a snarky but loving kiss.


---------------------------------------------------------------


I finished my cold shower and to his credit Chris followed suit, not
touching the knob, the temperature-regulated knob that is. He endured just
as cold a shower as I had. My body shivered as I toweled off, watching my
cousin lather up through the mirror. The fog of steam began to dissipate
from the mirror as the steam was replaced with coldness. "Why don't you go
make up the pull-out?" Chris called, rubbing down his back.


I was half tempted to step in and help him reach his spine but I knew what
kind of trouble that would get me. "Okay," I said as I stepped out of the
bathroom.


"And don't get dressed!" he called back. "Tonight's naked night!"


Despite my best wishes, my cock started to respond, despite freezing. I
took a moment and tried to calm down. I didn't know what Chris was planning
for tonight, but if stayed on edge for much longer I'd break his rule and I
didn't want to do that. I cleared my mind and started thinking about this
particularly hard computer modeling simulation I'd been toying with a
couple of months back. It was involving fluid dynamics going through stones
in a brook. I'd given up finally, but I searched my mind and tried looking
at it from a different angle.


After thirty seconds of concentrating on the problem, I felt my breath get
back to normal and my cock soften and drape, soft but still swollen against
my nut sack. I stepped from the hallway and into the living room.


The air felt cool and free on my naked body though I still felt very weird
walking around like this. I pulled out the fold-out bed from the couch and
positioned and it just so in front of the T.V. I sat on the end and stared
into space. I could still hear the running shower from the bathroom. I
blinked and tried to clear my head.


I tried to take a mental step back and examine how things had developed
over the last few days. It was honestly unbelievable. I'd gone from a quiet
shy kid who had barely admitted to myself that I liked guys to getting
dressing room blow jobs with random sales assistants and getting
fingerfucked by my cousin twice in one day in two different showers. And
that had just been today.


I laid back and put my hands under my head.


And then there was Chris. This was all moving fast. Maybe too fast? I mean
it was the hottest time of my life; there was no doubt about that. In my
wildest fantasies I'd never believe the stuff we'd already done, but
looking back on it right then the whole series of events seemed
overwhelming. Monumental. I felt like I was on a speeding roller coaster
and I wasn't sure if the carnie who worked the ride was dead or on break or
what but the ride wasn't slowing down any time soon.


And it scared me. And excited me. And I didn't really know what to think or
how to feel or even what exactly I was feeling. I'd lived my entire life
nervous and sort of ashamed of who I was. Not just that I was gay, but that
I was too skinny, too nerdy, not funny enough, not cool enough, not manly
enough, not attractive enough. And noiw here was this guy who was blowing
all of my expectations out of the water. He liked me, for me; in spite of
or because of my dorkiness and my skinniness and my lack of experience. But
it had pushed me into the fast lane.


Before two days ago I had hid in my room, almost always. I spent all of my
time glued to my screen, working on my projects, or browsing Youtube or
Reddit. And here I was. I had spent one-third of the day going out of the
house (half spent in physical exercise and a half spent in the freaking
Mall of all places), one-third of the day sleeping off my exhaustion and
the other third having the most amazing sexual encounters with my familial
relative. It was a lot to process.


"You okay, buddy?" Chris asked. I snapped out of my thought stream and
glanced up. Chris stood a few feet away from me, totally nude, a damp used
towel draped casually around his shoulders. I hadn't noticed the shower
turn off let alone him enter the living room. I blinked and stared at him
blankly. "Greg, is something wrong?" He asked.


"I..." I muttered, "I...don't know...". I felt really conflicted.


He sat down next to me and put his arm on my shoulder. "You've had a pretty
big day..." he said. It was the understatement of a lifetime. "We don't
have to do any more tonight. We can take a break. Maybe that would be good
for you."


His meaty hand felt comforting as he casually kneaded my neck muscles. It
felt really good and not in a sexual way. Just really warm and nice and
filling like a bowl of my mom's homemade stew.


I breathed in and just leaned to my right and laid my head against his
chest. His hand went up the nape of my neck and began massaging the back of
my head through my hair. It felt fantastic. When I was little my mom would
sometimes come and sit by my bed and stroke my head as I fell asleep. I
felt so warm, so protected. I looked up at him. He looked down at me with
utter warmth in his eyes. "Let's call it a night," he said. "You're
tuckered out."


And then something shifted in me. Maybe it was the fact that I still hadn't
cum despite all of my adventures this afternoon. Maybe I wanted to prove to
him I wasn't some fucking baby who couldn't handle what he was dishing
out. Maybe I wanted to prove it to myself. I had done so much, just today
that was so outside my comfort zone, I had pushed my boundaries so far
already. I knew where he was coming from. He didn't want to push me beyond
my limits. But I was strong. I could handle it.


"No," I said, "I want to continue. I want to keep playing."


Chris looked down at me for a long deep while, stroking my hair. I could
feel his heartbeat beneath my back. "Greg, I don't think---"


"I want to, Chris..." I cut him off and then I went uncharacteristically
vulgar, "I've been sporting an erection almost all afternoon and you are
going to get me off before I go to bed, you understand me?"


Chris cracked a grin and laughed. "I haven't given you permission to do
that, cuz."


"Well, you better," I told him, "By the time the night's through or I don't
care how hot you are, I'm taking care of myself."


I wasn't quite sure I meant it as I was saying the words, but I was
standing up for myself. I wanted release, and I knew Chris had sexy and
inventive ways of giving it to me. He could string me on for a while, but I
was letting him know my limits.


Chris paused. His face was a stone facade but I could feel the gears
turning beneath his eyes. "You really want this?" he asked.


"Yes," I said resolutely, "I do." I tried to make my voice and face as firm
as his. I wasn't bullshitting. I was tired, yes. I was overwhelmed,
yes. And maybe tomorrow I wouldn't want any sex at all, but for right now
at this time, I wanted to continue this rollercoaster ride wherever it was
going to lead me.


Chris leaned down and gave me a slow sensual kiss on the mouth. It wasn't
tongue, just lips, but it was wet and sloppy and my cock sprung up like
someone had pressed a *hard-on* button in my brain. Chris then took my face
in both of his hands and brought me up so we were both eye level. I had to
reposition myself and sit on my leg to accommodate. It wasn't like he was
dragging me, just gently guiding me.


"Greg, if this is what you really want then that's what we'll do," he said,
"But--"


I squinted my eyes. What was this "but" about? This felt new and weird and
vaguely awkward. "I want it," I told him, trying to sound strong and tough,
"I know what I want."


"I know you do," he said, "Right now you do, you definitely do. But I don't
know if you will in twenty minutes, in half an hour, an hour."


"But--" I protested.


He put his hand to my lips, and I instantly shushed. "Listen," he said,
"We'll do it. We'll go through with it. But for tonight, I'm giving you an
extra card. Let's call it a blue card."


I furrowed my brows. I was confused. "I don't---" I began.


"Listen, and this is important," his voice sounded different. It wasn't the
calm secure voice of Chris in loving mode, but it wasn't his gruff hard
dominant mode either. It came from the chest and felt intensely direct. It
was the same voice he'd used when he told me I didn't know how cool I
was. It was the same voice he used when he told me I had no idea how sexy I
had been. It was the voice of someone trying to get through to someone on
the other side of a locked door. "If at any point tonight you feel like
stopping, if you feel too stressed if you feel too tired even if you just
don't want to do it anymore. Hell, if you want to just stop and jack
off. You can. No judgment. It doesn't count as your red card. I won't be
mad or disappointed. At any point, you just say the word *Blue Card* and we
can stop. Even just pause, if that's what you want to do. `Blue Card' is
the word and you can use it whenever you want. Do you understand?"


I nodded back at him.


"Say the words. Blue Card," he commanded.


"Blue Card," I responded back.


"Say them again," he said, firmer.


"Blue. Card." I said, smiling. I reached up and traced a finger around his
face. He was so earnest and so caring and all of the doubt and tiredness
that had overwhelmed me seconds ago fled from my body like a flock of
pigeons driven from a park. I felt alive and excited and ready to adventure
again and his concern seemed so sweetly unnecessary.


He didn't react. He still looked at me with the utmost seriousness. "Are
you sure you're ready?"


I smirked. "Only one way to find out." I couldn't help but grin. I didn't
know what he had cooked up his sleeve, but whatever it was, I wanted it.


Chris took another beat. The pause wasn't just pregnant. It was in its 13th
trimester. It was long overdue and a marvel of modern medicine.


Finally, the tension broke. He stood up. "Lay on the bed," he said.


I smiled and lay back. The cotton sheets of the pull-out felt cool and soft
on my skin. I genuinely felt sexy as I lay before him. Was he going to take
me, right here and now? We were both sexy and I was definitely hard
enough. I couldn't help. I squirmed on the bed. We were going to have sex,
finally. I honestly couldn't wait. "What are you going to do to me?" I
asked cheekily. I almost gave him a wink.


"I already told you, cuz," he said with as much cheek as I was dishing
out. "Tonight's a double feature." With that he left the room, yelling
behind him, "Stay there!"


I was confused at first and even more confused when he came back carrying
the torn shreds of my baggy gray shirt when he had ripped it off my
body. "Is that my...?" I began to ask.


"Shhh." He commanded as he plopped his naked bottom to my left lifted up my
arm. "Don't ask too many questions," he said as he began to wrap one end of
my torn t-shirt around my arm and then tie the other end of the strip to
the end to the base of the couch.


*Okay*, I thought, *This is cool and sexy, I guess...*. He grabbed my other
wrist and wrapped the other shred of t-shirt around it along the other
side. I wasn't uncomfortably stretched out, but I couldn't move my arms
much. This was hot, I thought. I hadn't really ever thought about being
tied up, but I couldn't deny the situation was sexy.


He stood up and examined me. My arms were sprawled long across the surface
of the pullout, my cock was up and at `em. I positioned my feet flat
against the mattress and pressed my pelvis up. I smiled at him. In
retrospect, I think I was trying to prove that there was plenty of space
underneath me for him to position under and fuck me senseless. Little did
know the night I'd be having...


"Wait here," he said, "I'll be back." He then strode off to my room.


I stretched my neck back to follow him. Confused. Where was he going and
why?


He came back shortly with another of my identical oversized grey
T-shirts. "Greg," he said, holding it up for me to inspect, "This isn't a
good look for you. You're hiding your body."


Before I could even respond he ripped the shirt in two, just as he had done
earlier with the shirt I was wearing. "Hey!!" I called out in protest but
he abruptly ignored me and sat down at the foot of the bed and began
binding my left ankle to the foot of the fold-out.


Before, when it had just been my hands I had felt contained but also free
but as he secured my first foot and then reached down for my last free limb
I stupidly saw for the first time where he was going with all this bondage.


Before I could even register what was going on, Chris had bound me spread
eagle, each limb attached to the four corners of the pullout bed. I
struggled against the knots but each held fast. He stood over me before
kneeling down and crawling across the bed over me.


His being taller than me, his cock didn't reach my abdomen as he positioned
himself directly above my chest and then leaned down and began licking my
right nipple. "Oh fuck," I moaned. He grabbed my cock by the base of my
shaft with his thumb and index finger and with the gab light held my
balls. He didn't begin to stroke me, he just kept it there as his tongue
worked on my chest. My hips shifted up in response. I wanted him to stroke
me. It felt so hot.


Chris shifted up and lightly put his hand on my head and went in for
another deep kiss. My hips tried humping his hand but he pushed as he
kissed me tenderly. He broke off and looked at me sweetly. "You wanna cum,
Greg?" He asked. There was something behind his voice. That edge of
mischievousness.


I nodded. "Uh huh..." I moaned, still gyrating my hips against his firm but
unmoving hand.


His voice became huskier. "You wanna unload that big pink cock of yours?"


"Yeah," I sighed. Oh shit, I didn't expect it so soon.


He squeezed tighter and I gasped and then he let me go and stood up. His
own cock was now hard again and I wondered what he was going to do with
it. He reached down casually and gave it a couple of strokes. "You're not
the only one who wants it, Greg," he said, "But first it's time for movie
night."


I blinked. Confused. Wait, was he serious?


He then turned and opened up his luggage and picked up his laptop. He then
turned to the television and plugged a USB port from his computer to the
back of the television.


"What are you doing?" I asked, genuinely curious.


"Hold on a sec," he muttered turning the TV back and grabbing the
remote. "This might take a moment."


He sat down on the bed between my legs, laptop on his lap. The bed shifted
under his weight. The TV blared on and we were suddenly watching a re-run
of Bob's Burgers.


I felt my boner shrink in confusion. On the T.V. the glasses glad monotone
voice of Tina Belcher said, "I'm no hero. I put my bra on one boob at a
time, just like everyone else." I would have kicked Chris to get his
attention, but my legs had limited mobility at the moment.


Then the TV switched and I saw that I was now looking at the desktop
wallpaper of Chris's laptop. Chris and I had been so busy that I hadn't
actually been aware that he had brought a computer with him. He pulled a
file explorer and navigated his way to a file that said
"Trigonometry". Inside was a large collection of video files with names
like "Only Fans - Fitness Workout" or "Family Dick - Say Uncle". I breathed
in deeply. It was his porn collection. And he had a lot of it.


I hadn't actually watched much porn in my entire life. I could probably
count on one hand the number of times I'd allowed myself to watch a dirty
clip on porn hub and it was usually only a minute or two before I came
shamefully in my bedroom in the middle of the night and I'd always felt
awful about it afterward.. Of course, that's because at the time I didn't
want to be turned on by these movies of guys kissing each other and fucking
each other. I didn't want to be gay.


I'd come around since then. You know, since yesterday. My cock lept back to
service in anticipation.


"Let's see..." said Chris, browsing through the long list of files, "How
about this one...?" He said, clicking on a title that read *Daddyland 2*.


A little media player popped up on the corner of the screen and he
maximized it.


After a bombastic credit, and then I was confronted by a man on a
couch... singing French. *what the hell?* I thought. I guess my face
betrayed me. "Just wait", said Chris.


I lay there confused as a handsome Quebecois guy in his 30s started talking
to an unseen interviewer about spirituality. I turned to Chris, still tied
to the bed. Homemade video footage of the man hiking through Greece shone
on the television. My cock once more deflated. The absurdity of the
situation seemed crystal clear to me. At the time it almost seemed like
this had been a strange ploy for Chris to get to me to watch some obscure
documentary.


And then suddenly he was in the arms of a handsome tanned stud and very
quickly after that they were making out and all protests my tongue was
about to make proved as moot as my struggling against my restraints.


As the two actors on the screen kissed deeply and passionately felt my
blood rushing from my head. My right hand instinctively reached down but
was caught by the fabric. Their bodies were now entwined as their kissing
became increasingly passionate. It was incredibly hot. And my cock
responded. I felt drops of precum ooze out of me and land on my cherry red
patch of pubic hair.


Chris, still sitting on the bed, looked at me and smiled. "You like?" He
asked.


"I don't really... " I tried to say, transfixed on the television as these
two almost naked adonises made out, "I haven't really watched much
porn...".


"You're going to make up for lost time," he smiled and patted me softly on
my inner thigh. Just the body contact made my pelvis seize and my back
arched up as more pre-cum dripped off the head of my cock. This time, my
penis was angled upwards and dripped directly into my navel.


Chris took a finger and without touching the head of my penis caught a drip
on his finger. He held it up to his eyes as if examining it like a specimen
and then brought it down on his tongue. He blinked slowly and
smiled. "Tasty," he said.


Between him and television, I was going crazy. I started breathing harder
and without any kind of friction or anything to relieve the tension, I
began randomly thrusting up into the empty air.


Chris laughed. "Good luck with that, cutie," he said, "If you can cum
without touching yourself, you'll have earned it." He reached over and
casually tweaked my left nipple.


"Oh fuck!" I cried as I arched my back upward as far as it would go.


Chris continued tweaking hard, rubbing back and forth. I was in both agony
and ecstasy at the same time. "Keep your eyes open," he said, his voice
soft but commanding. I opened them and on-screen the Canadian ran his lips
up and down the other man's shaft. Oh man, it was so hot.


Chris reached over and kissed me gently on the lips. "I thought you'd like
this movie," he said, letting go of my nipple. I instantly let out a groan
and collapsed my hips back to the bed. He crawled off the bed and stood up,
his penis visibly erect, "Now pay attention cause it's a long one." With
that he picked up the remote and turned up the volume. The sounds of slick
flesh against flesh, filled the room. It was way louder than I'd ever
listened to a movie before. The sounds of sex were omnipresent. "Have fun!"
he said, as he began walking to the other end of the house.


"Hey!" I shouted after him, still strapped to the bed, trying to make my
voice heard over the sounds of sex, "Where are you going?"


"I'll be in the other room," he said over his shoulder, `I'll check in on
you every now and then."


"That's not fair!!" I shouted back.


Chris turned back to me. He wasn't smiling this time. He wasn't frowning
either. He was directly communicating with me. "Greg, if you don't want to
do this you know the two words you have to say. I'll be right in the other
room. At any time you say them, you shout, you understand."


"I'm not---" I began, and then got distracted as they switched positions on
screen and now the tan guy was taking the tall guy's enormous dick all the
way to the bottom of the shaft, "Oh fuck..." I caught my breath and turned
my attention back to Chris. He was still giving me the same look. "I won't
last," I protested.


"Try," he said, "And if it gets too much just say the words. The next two
hours are up to you, cuz." He winked. It was that smarmy fucking loveable
sexy wink. If I hadn't been strapped to the pullout couch just then I would
have leaped over and mounted his perky cock right then and there.


But instead, I was stuck and he walked out of the doorway and my attention
was brought back inevitably to the incredibly hot blowjob shown on screen.


-------------------------


I remained hard the entire time. I tried to close my eyes when the tall guy
began to eat each other's ass, but the moaning the other guy made forced my
eyes open. It was so bleeding sexy. I wanted somebody's mouth on my ass
like that. I wanted to feel that way. I wanted to moan like that tan boy. I
did moan. Loudly. So loudly Chris had to check in on me multiple times. He
just stood by the doorway looking across at me, naked on the bed, writhing
helplessly. He never said a word, he just looked at me with a glint that
said, "If you want this to end, just say the word," and every time i looked
at him desperately wishing that both he and I were doing the same thing as
the hot couple on TV.


By the time they were fucking I was in absolute heat. I tried mimicking
their movements as the man's bare cock slid back and forth against the tan
man's beautiful ass. "Oh fuck!" I cried I don't know how many times. By the
time the tall guy unloaded all over the the tan man's ass hole my entire
belly was coated with dick drool. It now pooled wet against my pubes and in
long sticky streaks along the side of my slender abs. My balls were in a
constant state of contraction and roiling agony. I could literally feel
them move like two confused clumps against my taint.


It was a relief when the scene ended. My entire forehead was coated with
sweat. The experience had lasted for what seemed a lifetime.


And then the movie went onto scene number two which was ten times worse and
by which I mean ten times as sensual and sexy. A huge man, looking like he
was a linebacker, fondled this twig-thin twink in front of him, both clad
only in extremely revealing underwear and I felt my eyebrows crease in
sorrow, desire, and pain. "Oh come on," I involuntarily cried. My dick
convulsed, spurting out another wave of precum across my already well
basted belly.


"Yeah," said Chris. I hadn't even noticed him entering the room but there
he stood gently stroking his cock, a privilege at that moment I'd kill to
have, "This is my favorite scene"


I almost said it, right then and there. Blue. Card. It was on the tip of my
lips. I was extremely close. No judgment. No punishment. He could have
released me and all I would have to do is lightly touch my cock and all of
this madness would end. All it would take is the sliver of a nail along my
head to send me spurting enough cum to drown the Netherlands.


I stopped and took a deep breath. And then refocused on the television. Now
the linebacker gripped the twink by the chin as he was holding a goblet
full of mead and forced his head back into what can only be described as a
makeout session for the ages, all the while his other hand worked the boy's
cock through his underwear. My cock spurted more pre-cum across my belly.


The second act proved nearly impossible to get through. The top was both
extremely dominant but also gentle. He reminded me of Chris in a way,
though Chris (as hot and big as he was, wasn't anywhere near as big and
muscled as this guy was). Still, the firmness and passion he displayed were
uncanny. Only in retrospect did I wonder if Chris hadn't been taking
lessons from this particular porn performer.


It didn't help that Chris frequently came to "check in on me". I get it. I
was immobile. I could have choked on my own spit or something but
throughout the video, especially as the fucking got going Chris made a
point to very slowly and tenderly stroke his own still very hard member. I
honestly didn't know where to focus. My eyes darted between the incredibly
hot scene on the screen and the pulsing cock of my cousin mere feet away
from me.


At one point as things got even more intense on the screen, Chris snapped
and strode over and straddled my chest, his thick long cock inches away
from my face. "You fucking pervert," he said, his voice dark and husky,
"You have no idea how much I want to give this to you."


"Then give it to me," I `panted my face distorted with lust.


Chris paused for a long time and then lowered his hips and I felt his hot
wet cock slick against my sweat-dappled forehead. I craned my neck up as I
felt the head of his cock slide across the bridge of my nose. I reached out
a tongue to taste it but just as I was about to reach it Chris raised his
hips and got off of me. Behind him the big guy and twink were furiously
fucking along a bed, the linebacker holding the twinks face back as they
kissed. "Jesus Christ!" I moaned.


By the time the third scene rolled around, I was both dazed and
confused. At one point Chris brought me a bottle of water that I
practically inhaled and he had to refill it and give me a second drink. The
third scene coincidentally started in a shower and I could only flashback
to hours earlier when that had been me kneeling down on the wet porcelain
with Chris's cock straight in my face.


The third top was aggressive, tossing the bottom up and down like a slinky
slinky. By the time the scene ended with one last cum shot all over the
twink's spread cheeks I had given up gyrating my hips up and down. I was
exhausted. I just lay back, my dick now so hard I didn't know if I'd ever
be able to feel it again, as I let the last scenes roll over me.


"Good boy," Chris said as he walked over and disconnected his computer from
the TV. "You liked that movie?"


"Uh-huh," could barely breathe out. Chris put his laptop away back in his
backpack and fished something else out. It was a small square foil-looking
wrapper. It looked familiar but I was so bleary-eyed and foggy-headed I
couldn't make it out. He ripped it open with his teeth and walked over to
the bed where my sweat-coated body lay like a lifeless flan, though a flan
with an ever red erection sitting in the middle.


"You ever seen one of these?" He asked. He held it up to my face. It was
white and circular. It looked rubbery. If I hadn't spent the last hour and
chained to a bed force-fed porn it would have come to me sooner. "It's a
condom," he said stretching it out slightly to demonstrate, "You, or
whoever you're having fun with should always wear one. Always."


He then reached over to demonstrate. But instead of reaching over to his
own dick, he reached over to mine, still throbbing senselessly, so full of
blood that I could barely feel it anymore.


But I did feel what happened next. For the first time in almost two hours,
I felt something touch my cock, but I was so engorged I that I didn't just
cum immediately. Instead, I felt this slick wet sensation begin to coat the
head of my dick and then run down my shaft, wrapping it like a cool wet
glove. I shuddered at the sensation.


Chris smiled down at me. "Yeah, that's right, Greg," he said, "Feels good,
doesn't it?" I gulped and nodded. "Don't anyone give you any bullshit about
wearing them. If someone wants to fuck you raw, you get the fuck out of
there, you understand me?"


I could barely hear what he was saying, so strong were these final
sensations on my dick. I nodded rotely. The tips of his fingers traced the
condom along the entire length of my shaft down to the base. He then traced
the fingers back along my latex-clad cock. "Hot," he said. It was
declarative. He then went back to his backpack and brought out a
medium-sized bottle. I couldn't tell what it was but he poured out some
sort of substance in his palm and then put his full hand back on my dick
and began to slick with a wet pungent liquid.


"Don't cum," he warned me, "Not yet."


Between the condom and half of my blood supply filling my member, I wasn't
sure I even could cum. It felt partially numb with how long I'd been
withholding. I strained my head down watching him lather my cock in
juice. "What are you doing?" I asked him breathlessly.


"I promised you a double feature," Chris smiled as his hand continued to
wet my shaft. "The next one is in 3-D."


He then put one foot on top of the mattress and stepped up. I leaned back
as this naked God towered before me cock jutting out like a maypole. He
still had the bottle in his hand and squirted some more liquid in his right
hand and then reached back and began to rub it along his own ass
cheeks. And that's when I finally realized what was about to happen.


"Oh my God, Chris," I protested. It was funny, in all of the movies, in all
of my fantasies, it had always been Chris fucking me that I'd imagined.I
had never once, in a million years imaged fucking him myself. "You're not
really going to..."


Chris's cock twitched as he slathered lube around, in and out of his
asshole.  "I thought for your first time, we should make it special," he
said. His voice tried to sound even, but it caught awkwardly as he fingered
himself towering above me.


"But I thought you were a..."


"Top?" He interrupted. "Greg, labels are just a way people fit you into a
box. Fun is fun. You should never limit yourself. He then squatted down,
hovering over my pelvis. He reached down and grabbed my slick cock and
positioned it right along his open ass crack. *Oh shit," I thought. *Oh
shit, oh shit*. "Now buckle up, cuz," he said, "For the ride of your life."


And then he inched down. I felt the head of my cock enter him getting
swallowed whole by his sphincter. I gasped. It felt incredible. He moaned
himself as he inched down centimeter by centimeter. His voice rumbled deep
through the mattress and I clenched my fists in futile fury against my
cotton restraints. As the lips of his ass cheeks slid further and further
down the length of my shaft hugging my cock tight in a wet and
indescribable hug I leaned my head back and moaned loudly.


"Oh fuck," he moaned to himself, "You feel good Greg. You feel so good." He
kept slowly going down until he now hovered almost fully covering my dick,
buried deep in his ass. His broad-toned body leaned backward as he steadied
himself with one hand. He began to shift upwards and then downwards, slowly
fucking me up and down.


I couldn't help it, my hips started moving in tandem, in and out. Chris
shuddered in response and began to pick up the frequency. With his right
hand, he began to jack of his cock. "Oh shit, dude," he moaned, "That's
right. Get up there."


I picked up the pace, as both of us ground against each other, the feeling
of my cock going in and out of his ass was setting every nerve ending on my
body on fire. Watching this adonis take my cock as he jacked off in front
of me was cum icing on the gay ass cake.


He leaned his body down suddenly and plunged his mouth against mine. We
greedily ate at each other, as I felt his hand still rubbing his cock up
and down against my belly as the head of my dick still clung to his
crack. He broke off, mid frenzy both our lips coated with drool. "Don't
stop," he panted. "Keep going."


I had to shift down slightly to force my cock back up his angled crevice as
we kissed again but I soon found a rhythm and before I knew it my hips were
pounding furiously against him as our tongues wrestled in each other's
mouth.


I twisted to the side, panting, needing oxygen. Chris leaned back up and
threw his head back and my hips drilled back and forth into him, matching
my own frantic jackhammering with his own slick hand on his dick.


"Oh shit, Greg," he moaned, his voice strangely high-pitched and
strained. He felt otherworldly. "You gonna cum for me baby? You come cum up
inside me?"


"Oh fuck, yes," I called back, "Oh fuck. Yes. I'm going to!"


He looked back down at me with gritted teeth. His hand was now a blur of
motion going up and down his cock. I felt my toes flex with tension. "Oh
cum for me baby, fill that condom up and blow it up my ass," he heaved our
twin bodies joined in parallel motion. "Oh fuck. Cum, boy. Fucking
cum. Cum!  Cum! I'm... I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."


He couldn't get the words out before his whole body clenched in a
full-fledged seizure and a splash of warm watery cum exploded out of his
cock. It squirted out and it sprayed out across my face, my hair my
chest. His whole body contracted and then contracted again as another wave
globbed out and onto my belly.


His ass cheeks clenched and the walls of anus seized tight against my cock
and I felt myself pumping back against them, the friction and force
squeezing my cock like nothing in the world had ever done. I screamed in
euphoria and felt myself approach and approach and approach the waterfall
of my long prolonged orgasm, Chris still bucking against me, still
jettising ropes of hot teenage cum all over my sixteen-year-old body.


And then I went over the edge. I moaned even louder. The whole neighborhood
could probably hear me, but I didn't care. I pulsed and pulsed and
pulsed. Floods of semen erupted from my cock and filled the condom hidden
deep against his prostrate like a spunky water balloon. My entire body
shook and shook beneath him as he kept pushing in and out above me. "Oh
yeah," he moaned, "That's right. Oh fuck, yeah, I feel you," he said,
slowing down now slightly. "That's what I call a fucking load."


He leaned down, as I continued pumping wave after wave inside of him. His
torso pressed against mine, our bodies now covered slick in sweat and
jizz. He kissed me, less feverishly now but more tenderly as my orgasm
slowly, very slowly subsided. I came for almost forty seconds
straight. Eventually, I felt the contractions lessen as we made out
tenderly, his body pressing me deep into the mattress.


We stayed that way for a long time just kissing softly and
slowly. Eventually my cock softened enough that it plopped out of his ass
on its own. Chris shifted up into a plank position and looked down across
our naked bodies. The condom was still on but it was now genuinely filled
with my juice. The water balloon metaphor wasn't much of a metaphor.


He got off me slowly and carefully peeled the condom off my still very
tender dick. I winced as he touched it. I don't think I'd ever felt so
tender in my life. Chris held the condom up, still dripping with
lube. "Boy, you really stretched this thing out," he smirked.\\


"I really stretched you out," I smirked back.


Chris slapped me lightly on my inner thigh. "Smartass," he said.


"I bet your ass smarts," I joked back. I couldn't help myself.


Chris smiled at me and walked over and tossed the condom in the
garbage. "You know you're being awfully cheeky for a guy who's relying on
me to untie him."


"Blue Card," I said to him, my eyes smiling broadly. I knew I had him
there.


Chris paused and then laughed deep and hard. "You're such a fucking dork,"
but there was nothing but admiration in his voice, "I love you." He walked
back over and gave me a quick upside-down kiss and then started unknotting
the shreds of the T-shirt around my wrists.


---------------------------------------------------------------


We took a quick rinse in the shower, no sexy times this time, and toweled
off in the bathroom. "What time is it?" I asked. The sky was black outside.


"I think just past nine," he said, "What do you wanna do?"


My mind instantly raced with ideas, all of them naughty, but I brushed them
aside. We had all week for that and I didn't think my cock could take any
more action on what had been a very busy day. "You wanna play a board
game?" I asked.


"With you, cousin?" he said, "I'm up for anything."


I spent the rest of the night teaching Chris Pente. It's a super simple
game, sort of a really big version of tic-tac-toe, but it has surprisingly
strategic depth. Of course, I was much better at it than he was, but each
round is super quick and Chis quickly got into it, demanding round after
round until he could beat me.


We played occasional footsie under the table, but less as foreplay and more
as efforts to distract our opponents. As we progressed, Chris kept getting
better and better. I could practically see the synapses connecting in his
brain, and each round became more and more hard-fought until around 10:30
Chris finally beat me. My mouth gaped in disbelief. "I can't believe it!" I
shouted.


"Tell me you didn't just let me win," Chris chided.


"I didn't!" I told him honestly, "I don't play like that."


"Good," he said, as he began putting the little pebbles in their pouches,
"Cause I wasn't going to bed until I whooped your ass, and I was fully
prepared for it to be a very long night."


I laughed. "No, you're a really quick study," I told him.


"So are you buddy," he winked. He reached over and grabbed my hand. "Thanks
for an amazing day," he said. His thumb ran along the side of my hand.


"What are you talking about? I should be thanking you! This was probably
the best day in my entire life!" I said.


Chris smiled beatifically. "You know what they say," he said, "Today is
just the first day of the rest of your life." With that, he stood up and
folded the board back up and into its box. "Come on," he said, "Let's get
to sleep. You've earned it."


We fell asleep in the living room again, his large naked body pressed
against my own, his thick arms wrapped against my boyish frame, his breath
dank and hot against my ear. I sighed deeply and happily as I felt this
teenage God, my cousin, my lover, fall asleep against me. I didn't know
what was going to happen for the rest of his visit but at the moment I felt
grateful for what I had right then at the moment.


"Thank you, Chris," I whispered. He grunted softly in response to my
voice. He was too far deep into falling asleep to hear. "Thank you for
everything."