The First Entry
Chapter 7

Copyright© 2014 by Cotton Nightie

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 7 - Kate Miller never expected to fall for her cousin John Alderman over Christmas break. When their secret is discovered, it destroys life-long relationships and tears Kate's life apart. But there's another secret she must face or she will lose even more. This story is a novelization (85K words) of two previous Kate's Journal short stories; Cousins at Christmas and A Cousin Alone.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Romantic   NonConsensual   BiSexual   Fiction   Cousins   Polygamy/Polyamory   First   Oral Sex   Masturbation   Slow  

December 23, 2012

I dreamt he was kissing me, until I felt real lips press softly against mine. I slipped my arms around his neck and pulled him down into the bed with me, where he lay down next to me and ran his palm across my stomach and breasts. When his mouth opened against mine, I knew I had morning breath, but I didn't even care.

I slipped my fingers through his hair and he responded by kissing down my cheek to my ears. I shivered as electric shocks traveled up and down my body. His fingers teased my nipples into points, making me arch my back and hold my breath.

We were both breathless when he finally rolled back to look at me, his face visibly flushed even in the dim morning light.

"Good morning," I whispered quietly and turned my head to face him.

He traced his fingers around my face and tucked my hair behind my ear. "Last night was so much harder than I thought it would be."

"It was for me, too, but Mom can't find out." We all had arrived home at the same time. After a lovely time cooking dinner and eating, we'd played some Wii bowling and watched a Christmas movie. He'd been sitting so close and our legs had touched under the blanket. It'd been exquisite torture.

"Yeah," he sighed and rested his head on my shoulder.

I kissed his forehead. "Stop that. Live in the moment."

"Am I that obvious?" He snuggled in close and sighed. "It's hard for me, but I'll try. What do you want to do today?"

"I want to get Mom a small tablet for Christmas. Will you help me pick one out that's not too expensive?"

"I'd be happy to. I want to get her something nice as well. What do you think she'd like?"

"She loves scarves, handkerchiefs, and colorful pins. Dad used to get her those kinds of things all the time. Her old ones are starting to get a little worn."

"Sounds perfect, I'll put the pot roast in the Crock-pot this morning and we can have it for dinner tonight if you want."

"Oh, I'll skip lunch for that. Too bad Mom won't be here to eat it with us," I said with a huge grin on my face.

"Yeah, I can see you're all torn up about it. Maybe we can pick up a cheap bottle of wine while we're out."

"You read my mind." I rolled into him for another kiss and he gripped my hips to pull me against his body. Humming, I murmured, "I feel you down there."

"You have that effect on me," he replied as he ground his shaft against me.

It made me light headed. "That feels so nice." I opened my eyes and looked into his. "Promise you'll be gentle with me the first time?"

He wrinkled his forehead. "Are you sure about this? What if you meet someone later and regret being with me first?"

"I refuse to think past New Year's, and I refuse to regret this." I said with tears in my eyes.

"I wish..." I stopped his words with a kiss, because I knew what he was going to say. He kissed me back with the same hunger I felt.

When we slowed again, I whispered, "Will you make me a cup of coffee?"

"Anything for you," he replied with a smile. As he got out of bed, the front of his shorts pointed the way down the hallway.

When I'd showered and dressed for the day, I joined him and Mom in the kitchen. John handed me my cup of coffee and mimed a kiss to me.

Mom was facing the stove, so she didn't see us smiling. "Do you want eggs?"

"Sure, are you scrambling or frying them?"

"Frying."

"I'll take mine over easy, then." I looked around at their preparations and didn't see toast, so I grabbed the loaf of bread and started loading the toaster.

"So what's on the agenda today?" Mom asked as she cracked an egg on the edge of the skillet.

"I'm gonna put the pot roast in to cook this morning, and Kate asked me to take her shopping."

"Wonderful! Leave some for me," she said, scooting oil over the egg in the pan with the spatula. "Didn't you guys spend all day yesterday out at the mall?"

I smirked at John. "I just took John there to meet Steph and Holly."

"Really?" Mom asked with an arched tone. "So, then are you coming with us to the holiday party?"

John finished slicing fruit and threw away the pits and stems. "Yes, Ma'am. Steph asked me to be her date, but I'd prefer if I could just stick with you guys. She was a little ... overpowering."

Mom chuckled. "That's our Steph. She really is a good kid. I always wished she and Kate had been closer over the years."

Mom had this way of pressing my buttons without seeming to say anything bad. I bristled and snapped back, "Seriously Mom?"

She shot me a wounded look. "I just said I wished you were closer!"

"The fact that you didn't end the sentence with, 'instead of that bitch Jules, ' didn't stop me from hearing it."

"Kate, you're overreacting."

"Why do you hate her so much? She's been my best friend my entire life! Despite her 'horrible' influence, I'm standing here a twenty-year-old virgin, without a drinking problem, and making straight A's in college. Seriously, what is your problem with her?"

Mom flushed as my heated words flew, and then tears appeared in her eyes. "The problem? How about the late night, drunken phone calls? How about you borrowing my car to pick her up from some one-night stand, when she's too drunk to get home by herself? How about the way she uses you to front her cash when her parents cut off her allowance, despite the fact that she probably earns more than I do and her parents could buy this house out of petty cash?"

I began to shake with anger. "You've never understood our friendship. She was there for me when it counted, unlike you."

When Dad died, Jules had been my rock that whole year. I practically lived at her house, often sleeping over for weeks at a time, because Mom could barely get herself out of bed. They even paid for me to go to summer camp with Jules because we'd been bankrupt by Dad's cancer treatments.

Mom turned to John. "I'm sorry you had to see this. I no longer have an appetite. Will you please finish cooking the eggs?" she asked then stormed out of the kitchen without waiting for an answer and slammed her bedroom door.

My eyes were full of angry tears and my hands gripped the counter. John turned me around and pulled me into his arms. I tried to push him away at first, but then gave up and wept into his chest. He didn't say anything, just stroked my hair. After I got myself under control, I pushed him back gently. "The eggs are going to burn."

"You should apologize to your mom," he whispered as he flipped the eggs.

"It's none of your business," I hissed back.

"You're right, but you were still rude to her."

I glared at him. "She takes little jabs like that at me all the time."

"And she probably knows exactly what to say to spin you up."

"I am so sick of having the same fights with her month after month. It just keeps getting worse. I wish I could afford to move in with BF."

"Mom and I were having problems before I left for college. She rode my ass for weeks that last summer about every little thing I did. Dad finally explained it to me."

"What did he say?" I asked, wiping my eyes.

"She knew I was leaving and it was easier to drive me away angry than to be sad that I was going."

For some reason that cut me right to the heart and soon I was bawling. I covered my face and just sobbed. John took the eggs off the fire, pulled me back into his arms, and held me until it passed.

"Thanks." I wiped my eyes again and pulled away.

"Eggs are done." John put the eggs on two plates and headed to the dining room. I brought the toast and fruit over before going back for our coffee. When we sat at the table, John broke the awkward silence. "So, how about those Titans?"

"They're not going to the playoffs this year, that's for sure." I hated fighting with Mom and felt even worse doing it in front of John.

Suddenly his phone rang. Pulling it out of his pocket, he glanced at the screen and said, "Excuse me for a minute," and then got up to step away to take the call.

I heard him talking quietly in the kitchen but couldn't make out what he was saying. When he finally came back, I'd already finished my breakfast. "Good news?"

"Actually, yes, I've got a job." I could tell he was trying to hide his grin.

"Really? Back in Norfolk?"

"Nope," he replied, taking a bite of his eggs. "Here."

I gave him a puzzled look. "Doing what?"

"It's a secret," he said with a grin. "I'll be gone all day tomorrow."

I couldn't help feeling disappointed, but tried not to let it show. "I'll finally get the chance to catch up to you in The Hobbit. Where are you in the book?"

"Bilbo just found the Arkenstone."

"I'm at the barrel ride down the river," I said, but all I kept thinking was that our first time could have been during the day. I was barely spotting and could be finished by tomorrow. Mom was going to be home all day on Christmas, so we'd never get the chance then. I sighed and put my fork down.

"What's wrong?"

I didn't want to make a big deal about it. "Nothing."

He raised an eyebrow at me while taking a bite out of his last piece of bacon. I gave him a thin smile and picked up our plates.

Mom's door was still closed when I rinsed the dishes and placed them in the dishwasher. I put the remaining eggs, toast, and bacon on a plate and sat it on the counter.

John pulled the bottom round roast out of the fridge. "Is that for your Mom?"

"Yes." I reached into the open fridge to get a nectarine, and then used a sharp knife to cut the fruit into quarters before adding it to her plate. John shut the fridge and watched me work. "What?"

"Would you like me to take it in to her?" John put the roast into the skillet.

"No, this is my problem." I got the tray down that we kept above the fridge. I put the plate, a cup of coffee, and a glass of orange juice on it. After arranging the flatware and napkin, I sighed as I picked up the tray and went to her bedroom door. "Mom, may I come in?"

The door opened and she stood looking at me with red eyes. "What do you want?"

"I brought you some breakfast."

"I told you I wasn't hungry."

I stared at her, holding the tray until she made a sarcastic sweeping gesture with her arm and backed up to let me in.

"Kate, I really don't want to deal with you right now."

"I'm just bringing your breakfast," I said calmly, putting the tray down on her bed.

"You've done it, now go."

"Mom..."

"Just go."

I knew I should say something, but I wasn't sorry, not yet. Instead, I turned and left without another word.

John was searing the roast when I got back. "She still mad at you?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Did you apologize for being rude?"

"I will as soon as she does."

John turned the roast again and the meat sizzled loudly. "Will you get out the Crock-pot for me?"

"Sure, can I do anything else?"

"Peel some carrots and potatoes, if you want."

I sat the crock pot next to the stove and went to the pantry. "How many potatoes do you need?"

"Six. And six carrots as well," he replied.

Once I'd put them in the sink, I grabbed the peeler and got to work. With my hands busy, my mind began to wander and I tried to figure out why he'd gotten a job. "If you just need some money, I'll be happy to give it to you."

"It's too much to ask for, and I still owe you for the clothes. Don't worry, I've got it covered."

I watched him, standing there looking as delicious as the roast he was cooking. "Will you at least tell me what you need the money for?"

"Nope."

"If it's something for me, I'd honestly rather spend the day with you here."

He stabbed the seared meat with a fork and lifted it into the Crock-pot, then hummed to himself as he picked through the spice cabinet, adding salt, pepper, a bay leaf, and a few other spices. When I'd finished peeling the potatoes, he started cutting them into quarters and dropping them into the Crock-pot.

"You're driving me nuts by not telling me."

"I'm sorry, but I told you it's a secret, and I'm a really good secret keeper. Would you please just trust me on this?"

I peeled the carrots in silence, while he measured a cup of water and poured it in. Next, he pulled celery from the fridge and began to slice and chop it into tiny pieces. When I was done with the carrots, he took them and chopped them for the pot.

We were so close together, but he hadn't so much as brushed up against me. And damn it, I wanted his attention. Mom's door was still closed, so I went behind him and slipped my arms around his chest to rest my cheek against his back.

He stopped chopping and leaned back against me. "This is the kind of thing I've always wanted."

It irritated me that he would say something like that. "What? Incest?" I said it lightly, but part of me was glad the words stung.

"Is that how you think about us?"

"There's no 'us', John, there's only this moment." I felt him slump a little. "Please, just live in the moment with me," I asked and kissed his back through his shirt. "What else do you need?" I asked as I returned to the sink.

"An onion," he replied.

I got it for him and he chopped off the ends to peel it. When he wiped his eyes, I didn't know if it was from the onion or from what I'd said, but seeing him getting emotional made me feel guilty. "You should cut it under the water so it doesn't burn your eyes."

He shook his head. "I'm tough, I can take it."

"You know it couldn't work out between us, don't you?" I whispered, but he only shrugged. "Don't get me anything nice for Christmas, John, seriously."

"I never said I was getting you anything," he said and wiped his eyes again. "Damn onions. I'm almost done. If you want to go and get your coat, I'll take you shopping for that tablet."

The ride to the store was quiet, but at least he took my hand. I studied his fingers linked through mine. They were strong, and his nails were cut close and square. I had to shut my eyes when I remembered they'd been inside me. I wanted to feel them there again.

We arrived at our destination, and I got myself out of the car before he could come around to open my door. He didn't take my hand when we walked across the parking lot, so I stuffed both hands in my coat pockets. The war between my fear and attraction toward him twisted around inside me.

"What were you looking to spend?" he asked as we walked through the sliding glass doors.

"Not more than three hundred if we can manage it. I just want one that supports Wi-Fi, not the kind that needs a monthly contract."

"Let's go see what they have in stock."

He took control and spoke to the sales person for us both. Watching him use technical terms and ask complicated questions made me feel impressed and proud of him in a way. When we got down to making a decision, he began to defer to me, explaining the features and costs without talking down to me. The decision was easy once he'd broken it all down.

I looked at the salesman. "This looks like the one. Thanks for your help."

"My pleasure, just take the box up front and they'll be happy to ring it up for you."

John took my hand and I squeezed it as we bumped shoulders. "Thanks for your help, too."

"My pleasure," he said with a sad smile. When we got to the registers, there was one open, so he tugged at my hand and led me to the cashier.

She took the box from my hand and gave John's face an appraising look. "I wish someone would buy me a tablet," she said cheerfully. I shrugged off my irritation at the attention she'd paid him.

"It's not for me." His smile made her blush a little as she put the tablet in a bag.

"Will this be cash, credit, or debit?"

"Debit," I said, and ran my card through the machine and punched in my pin with four hard jabs.

"You guys make such a cute couple," she said when she presented the bag for John to carry.

There was a moment of panic when I realized that was exactly how we looked to her. I was about to correct her when he smiled down at me and said, "I know." The twisting in my heart continued as fear braided with lust, and panic with passion, until I had no idea how I felt anymore.

We walked back out to the car and his hand slipped naturally into mine. My mind kept playing games with me. I noticed he was the perfect height, so I could wear heels and he'd still be slightly taller than me. Then I thought about how wonderful it'd felt when he'd carried me to bed without straining at all. By the time we'd gotten back to the car I had myself all worked up. After he seated me and got the behind the wheel, I leaned toward him, hoping to find our moment again in his kiss.

"What?" he asked, and the flat way he said it hurt my feelings.

"Kiss me?"

He wrinkled his forehead. "So are we still good or is there no 'we' either?"

I sat back fighting off tears. "Never mind."

"All I was saying in the kitchen was that I liked being with you."

"No, you said you'd always wanted this. I can't deny being attracted to you, but I can tell you I never wanted someone to make me feel this way when I can't be with them!" The words tore themselves out of me, leaving me in tears and shaking next to him.

He reacted like I'd slapped him and his face instantly turned red. "Do you think this is easy for me?" he shouted. "I've been dead inside for the last year, and then you come along and give me a taste of life again. How the fuck am I supposed to give you up when this is over?"

I recoiled from his shout, but he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me into a fierce kiss. He reached into my hair and made a fist, pulling down to expose my neck to his lips. The stubble on his face was rough against my skin.

"Oh God," I whispered as chills ran across my arms and legs.

He growled as he pushed my shirt up, his hand cupping my breast, squeezing hard enough to make me gasp. My hand trembled as I reached into his lap to rub his shaft and the sound he made was hunger, impatience, and lust. Then all at once, he pulled back with a shout of frustration.

 
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