Honest-Honest Ch. 01

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Double Penetration

Note: Many thanks to shygirlwhore for her editing prowess.


When I found her, she was sitting at the end of the dock, alone, slowly rocking back and forth on a bench swing, gazing at the lake under the stars.

I didn’t take the place beside her; I sat on the dock a few feet away, looking at the starlight on the water and listening to the tiny waves lap against the floats. I turned and watched her. I decided to say something nice, something honest.


She didn’t even turn.

“Amy, any man who saw you right now—the way I see you—would have to say that you’re beautiful. I’m looking at you, and you’re beautiful.”

She stopped swinging. I couldn’t read her expression for a few seconds, and then she leaned towards me, her face filling with fury. “Fuck you! You’re just like the rest of them! You play like you’re the nice one, but you’re a fucking asshole, too. Leave me alone!”

Her eyes were red with tears. I started to respond, but she overrode me.

“And even if you were trying to be nice, I don’t need your fucking pity, and I don’t want it, loser!”

She rose and stomped away.

The next morning, all the families packed up and traveled back to their homes. Another annual Jones family reunion was over.


Every summer, our extended family got together at Big Rock Lake. We rented out four cabins from a resort there and stayed a week near the end of July. There was Nana and Big Pop in one cabin, my family in another, my Uncle Deke and his family in one, and Aunt Cyn and her family. In all, there were seven cousins, including Amy and I.

Amy had it rough.

She was Aunt Cyn and Uncle Scott’s kid, and they had two daughters. Amy’s older sister, Katy, was an absolute knockout. Both girls got their height from their dad; Uncle Scott was 6 feet 9. Katy was right at 6 feet, a leggy, well-proportioned blonde. Amy, a brunette, was closer to 6 feet 2, and she had a few tricky features.

She got a feminine version of Uncle Scott’s nose, sloping and long, ending in a big cherry of a tip. Amy didn’t get her sister’s softball tits; she had baseballs. Finally, Amy had a strange, disproportionate ass. No one knows where that thing came from. It was like a round shelf hanging off her lower back and squashed up by her super long legs.

With an older sister like Katy, it came as no surprise to me that Amy was a resentful bitch. Katy was fun; Amy sucked. And the two of them came every summer to see their five other cousins, all boys.

Uncle Deke’s sons were the oldest, and they tormented Amy. As a little kid, Amy was always “Amy Nose.” Any time someone asked a question, one of Deke’s sons would answer, “I think Amy nose.” She’d stomp off crying.

After Amy developed into a teenager, though, Deke’s kids were relentless on Amy’s ass, too: “I don’t know, butt Amy nose.” My older brothers, closer in age to Deke’s sons, joined in. I didn’t.

Amy and I were the closest in age. She was a year older than me, and I was the youngest of all the cousins. As such, I was always partnered with her. Who am I tubing with? Amy. Who do I sit next to on the roller coaster? Amy. It got so the boys would just call her my “wife.”

“Mikey, where’s your wife? We need to go.”

“Mikey, your wife’s nose hit the water before her ass even went down the slide.”

I felt bad for Amy, but a part of me always thought she asked for it. She was always negative, always cautioning, always ready to be angry. Nothing satisfied her. My pop would be pulling us on a tube. I’m laughing hysterically; Amy’s screaming to get off. Pop would stop for her, and my ride would be over, too.

We’d all be playing some game the older boys invented on the sand volleyball court and Amy would say, “This is stupid.” She’d storm off, and one of my brothers would tell me to go with her. It really wasn’t until high school when I started wondering what came first, the bitchy attitude or the persecution. I knew the answer, really. I felt bad for her.

I had meant what I said to Amy that night on the dock. When she was serene, neither happy nor sad or angry, she could be very pretty. It was too bad that, on those rare occasions when she smiled, it just made her nose seem longer.

I thought her big bubble ass was very sexy. I’d bet the others thought so, too, but they just wouldn’t admit to it. That butt hung out so far from her back and legs. I remember as young teenagers when her ass first showed up, she would regularly bump into chairs with it and knock things off tables and shelves. I also remember times when I could very easily have gone around her, but I decided to squeeze past her and drag my front along her back. I wanted her, cousin or not.

My compliment to Amy that night on the dock was not just about me trying to be a nice guy. I was kind because it tended to work for me with girls. My approach was to be nice, be quiet, and to surprise girls. It was a trial and error thing, and I had made some huge blunders. But, it didn’t suit me to be a prick like it did some of my friends.

One of my best friends was a total asshole to girls. So, he lost bursa escort as many as he got, but the ones he got were often better looking than mine. Problem was he burned bridges. I tended to have longer relationships that ended better by being sweet and surprising.

But, what I was doing with Amy was not so much about getting laid—even though I thought a lot about her every time we came to Big Rock. It was more about guilt.

The other cousins may have treated her much worse, but I always hated and cursed her in my heart. In that sense, I thought, maybe I was worse than the rest of them. I was like a double-agent. I acted the part of her ally because I was always stuck with her, but every time the boys got after her, made fun of her, dismissed or ignored her, my heart filled with a terrifying, awful joy at her misery.

I think my passage though puberty, fraught with social blunders as it was, taught me to see Amy in a new light. I began to feel like I needed to make up for my heart’s betrayal of her.

* * *

There was an age window where cousins quit coming or only came for a short stay—maybe a couple of days. When people hit about 19, they didn’t come as much or at all. At 24, they started coming back. I was 17 the summer Amy ripped into me for complimenting her. She was 18.

I was surprised when she came back with her family the following summer; Katy hadn’t come after she turned 19. That next summer, neither of my brothers came, nor the youngest of Deke’s sons. His older son came with his new wife, and they got their own cabin. So, really it was just Amy and I representing the grandchildren.

I did my best to avoid her that first evening after we arrived. Almost everyone was upstairs, drinking and playing cards. I went downstairs to catch up with friends and screw around on my phone. A few minutes later, Amy came down and sat on the lazy boy adjacent to mine. She didn’t say a word.

After a minute or so, I turned to her. “Amy, I’m doing my best to stay out of your way. We’ve got an entire week to get through, and you know our parents are going to make us do shit. Your coming down here isn’t helping.”

“I wanted to ask you something.”

I looked back at my phone and sighed, “What?”

“What you said last year—on the dock—did you mean it?”

I put my phone down and searched her eyes. Was she getting ready to hammer me again? It didn’t seem that way. “Yes. I did,” I admitted, finally.

“Honest? Because if you’re making fun of me again, I…,” but she couldn’t quite finish.

“Yes. Honest,” I told her, “Look, if we’re going to get along for this week, I think for starters we probably ought to be honest all the way.”

Something in her face told me this appealed to her. “Absolutely no lies?” she asked.

“Well, I don’t know about none, I mean…”

“Not even little ones,” she said, firmly. “Not even white lies to be nice.”


“Really. Can you?”

“Is that what you want?” I asked.

She nodded.

“Okay, fuck it. Yes. No lies, whatsoever.”

“Okay. Prove it,” she declared.


“Let me ask you something. To see.”

“Go. Ask.”

She started, then stopped. She had a question ready, it seemed. She debated it, and then she asked, “Have you ever tried to suck your own penis?”


She burst out laughing. I did, too.

“Amy, where in the hell did that come from?”

“Answer it, and I’ll tell you.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Yes. Answer it.”

I shook my head. “Well…yes.”


I started laughing again. “Yes. Fuck! Now tell me why you asked that of all questions. Shit.”

She kept laughing, wiping a tear from her eye. “A friend of mine back home said once that to find out if a guy is a liar to ask him that question. She said if he says yes, he’s telling the truth and if he says no, then he’s a liar and you watch his face to see what he does when he lies.”

“She might be right. Shit, I didn’t see that coming.”

We both started laughing again, me from shock, her probably from having been so shocking for once.

“I’m sorry,” she said, still giggling a little.

“You know this is a two way street. If I have to be totally honest, then you do, too.”

“No lies?”

“None. The truth, even if it hurts.”

“Okay. What do you want to know?”

I thought for a second. “Do you have a boyfriend?”


“When was your last boyfriend?”

She shook her head. “You’re not talking about a friend-who-is-a-boy. You’re asking about a guy I did stuff with?”



“But, you’re in college! Isn’t that part of the whole thing?”

“If you’re a girl who parties on frat row, it is.”


She shook her head. “It would be a boyfriend.”

“Okay. Just an honest question.”

She nodded.

I asked, “Why haven’t you?”

“Had a boyfriend? I don’t know. I think guys are intimidated. I’m taller than most of them.”

“Nah, that just means there’s more leg to wrap around malatya escort you.” I said it and a second later realized that I’d said it to my very leggy cousin. Shit.

She smiled. In that moment, I couldn’t help but think that her smile had gotten better and better with each passing year. That nose wasn’t like it used to be.

I got up and grabbed a beer out of the storage fridge. “Want one?”

“Are you drinking? They might come down here. They might know one’s missing.”

“Have you looked in this thing?” I asked, pointing to the fridge. “That’d be like finding out a pine needle is missing from the Christmas tree.” I cracked it open. “So, do you? Want one?”

She shook her head. I shrugged and took a pull.

“Honest question, honest answer?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Have you ever thought about me…you know…that way?”


“What did you think about?”

I sighed. “Amy, I’m a guy. I think about things. Do I really need to give specifics?”


“I thought about your legs; I thought about your ass.”

“What about my ass?”



“I thought about touching it, feeling it, rubbing up against it, kissing it…”

“Okay, that’s too honest.”

“It’s honest.”

“But, we’re cousins!”

“But that doesn’t stop me from seeing you as sexy; it just makes it…”

“Wrong,” she finished.

“I don’t know.”

“It would be.”

“Okay, now it’s my turn. What about you? Have you ever thought about me?” I asked.

She hesitated, and then muttered, “Yes.”

“Tell me.”

“Your pecs when we were swimming last year. I wanted to suck your nipples, you looked so hot.”

“Really? Okay, so we’re both wrong.”


I took another big drink, and I said, “Amy, maybe you’re not looking at this right. Maybe that were cousins makes it better.”

“Exactly how?”

“We don’t live under the same roof; it’s not like were brother and sister. We’re not going to be boyfriend-girlfriend or get married. We’d just be…”

“Learning,” she finished. It wasn’t the word I was planning on using. When she said it, everything I suspected was confirmed: Amy was a virgin. Not only that, but it was also likely she was completely inexperienced.

“Yeah, and having fun and knowing that at the end of the week, we part our ways until next summer. No awkwardness. No nasty break-up. No weird phone calls or messages.”

“And we still have to be honest all the way?” she asked.


She rocked the chair slowly for a while, and then shook her head. “No, we can’t. We’re cousins. It’s crazy. We’ll get caught.” She rose and made to go back upstairs.

I decided to go bold. “Amy,” I said. I jumped out of my chair and got in front of her. I offered my hand, and she took it. I drew her to me, cradled her cheek and chin in my other hand and kissed her as softly as I could. Then, I let her go.

I had stunned her. She looked at me like she’d never seen me before.

I smiled and said, “See you later?”

She nodded and left.

I sat back down and thought about what to do.


Later that night, my pop called me upstairs. The party was breaking up; Amy had already left.

“On the deck. Aunt Cyn wants to talk to you,” he informed me. He looked toward the deck door and shrugged.

I nodded. And gulped. Aunt Cyn is a tiger. She was looking out over the lake when I closed the door behind me.

She turned on me, smiling and closing the space between us. “What do you think you’re up to, Michael?”


“You’ve got something just awful planned for Amy, don’t you?”

“Wha—No! Shit!”

She slapped me; it was lightning fast. “Don’t you dare curse; you don’t even know how.”

“I’m not doing anyth…”

“She told us she wanted to come this year because of you. So, what torture do you have in mind this time? You’ve got her fooled, and you’re just waiting for the right moment to crush her. Tell me. Out with it!”

“I don’t…I’m not gonna…”

She was less than a foot from me. “If I hear one peep about you mistreating my little girl, young man, I am going to rain hellfire down upon you, you hear me?”

“Yes, Aunt Cyn.”

“You will burn.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I can’t take any more of this. Now, you promise to treat Amy right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Promise, now!”

“Yes, Aunt Cyn, I promise.”

She raised a finger right next to my nose. “Remember: hellfire. You will burn.”

I nodded.

“Go on, then, Michael. Good night.”

I left.


At two in the morning, I snuck into Aunt Cyn and Uncle Scott’s cabin through the screened porch and the sliding glass door in their basement. It was a strangely cool night, and I was glad to be back indoors.

All the cabins at our resort were the same: two-story jobs, a huge main level with a giant deck, and a basement level with a screened porch underneath the deck. The master bedroom was on the main floor, other bedrooms were below.

I knew çanakkale escort where Amy would be, and I knew the doors would be unlocked. As kids, we snuck out at night all the time, creeping into each other’s cabins to gather up everyone. Nobody locked anything.

I crept across the cool tile floor and pushed open Amy’s door. She didn’t hear me, and I closed the door behind me and knelt beside her.

“Amy,” I whispered. “Amy.”

She opened her eyes and sat up with a start when she saw me.

I whispered, “Hey, I thought I’d sneak over and come hang out, like old times.”

Amy smiled.

“Scoot over,” I said.

She gave me a suspicious look.

“To talk. Come on. It’s cold tonight.”

She scooted over and I slipped into the warm spot she made. “You’re crazy, Mike. My Mom thinks you’re up to something.”

I nodded. “She does.”


“Before she left, she gave me a warning.”

“What’d she say?”

“She said she was going to rain hellfire on me.” Then I imitated Aunt Cyn’s voice, “‘Hellfire. You. Will. Burn.'”

Amy burst into laughter, and I covered her mouth. “Shit, Amy!” I whispered.

After a bit, she regained control, and I drew my hand away. “You sounded exactly like her,” Amy whispered.

I nodded. “Scoot closer. You’re warm.”

“Mike, you can’t be here. It’s sweet, but…”

“I’ll go, but help me get warm first. Get over here.”

She sighed, and then rolled on her side and backed into me. I put my arm around her and pulled her close.

That big ass was up against me. My body began to react.

“Truth, Amy?”


“Have you ever been like this before?” I asked.


“Do you like it?”


“Me, too.”

She shifted her ass, and my dick rested snugly between her cheeks, nearly hard. She turned slightly and whispered, “Is that…is that ‘it,’ what I feel?”

“Yes.” My cock was now rigid, squished up against Amy’s ass.

“It’s like that for me?”

“Yes. It likes you.”

She giggled. “Can I look at it?”

I sat up, pulled off my shirt, pushed the blanket down, and pulled down my shorts. Then, I propped up my pillow and laid back down.

Amy turned over and looked at it. “Oh, shit.”


“It’s just…”

“What? Honesty, now.”

“It would hurt, is what I was thinking, to put it in.”

I decided to shut up. She looked at it, and I liked seeing her study it. She reached over and ran two fingers down it. “Oh, it’s warm.” Then she grasped it and drew in a short breath. “It’s so hard,” she whispered.

She moved closer and lifted it and let it snap back to my belly. “Oh, shit. Sorry.”

I shook my head: it’s nothing.

Amy sat up a little more and looked at my balls. She reached for them.

“Gentle down there, Amy. Sensitive, those.”

She ran her finger over my scrotum and felt each ball. “This is just weird.”

I looked up at her.

She said, “You’re so hard here,” grabbing my cock, and then finished, “and so soft here,” touching my balls.

I nodded.

She turned the head toward her and touched the tip. “The top is shiny. It’s wearing a glossy purple helmet or something.”

We grinned at each other.

She snapped it back again. “How do you pee standing up when it’s like this?”

“You don’t.”

She sat up and crossed her long legs; I looked at her white panties. She quickly tugged some sheets over to cover them up. “What do I do?” she asked.

“Whatever you want to, Amy.” I put an arm around her and slowly rubbed her lower back and ass through the sheets.

She put her fingers around it and began to slowly jerk me off. Problem was, she was running her hand up and down over the skin, not gripping the skin and running it up and down the shaft. I put my hand over hers and helped her get the right grip, and then I led her hand up and down a few times before letting go. She continued, and I took in a deep breath.

“You like it this way?” she asked, smiling.

I nodded and closed my eyes.

“How long does it take?”

“What do you want to do?”

“I want you to cum.” She kept pulling on me, and it was amazing.

“Not much longer this way, Amy.” I said, and then a thought occurred to me and I stopped her.

“What?” she asked. “I want to see it.”

“Yeah, no, I just…what do you want to do about the cum?”

“Will there be a lot?”

“Maybe. It could get on your bed.”


“Here,” I said, and I grabbed my shirt and laid it across my belly and chest. I nodded.

Amy grabbed my cock and began tugging it again. She looked at me and sped up. “Do you like it faster?”

I nodded. She pumped it and watched.

“Amy, do you like it?”

She nodded.

“Will you touch yourself, too?”

She stopped jerking me when I asked. She hesitated, and then put her hand inside the sheets.

This surprised me. “You won’t let me see?”

She shook her head, and then began. The sheets moved around her crotch. I saw pleasure wash across her face, and I knew she really was fingering herself under there.

When she looked back at me, I grinned, and Amy started tugging on my cock again.

“That feels so fucking good, Amy.” She moaned after I said it. “When it comes, don’t stop.”

She nodded, touched herself, and watched her hand pull on my cock, waiting to see my cum.

It was happening.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Leave a Reply

E-posta adresiniz yayınlanmayacak. Gerekli alanlar * ile işaretlenmişlerdir