Chapter 3
The house was packed, everyone showed up at once, filling every room with chatter and laughter. It was just another party, no special reason, just the family getting together—and there were a lot of us. I was anxious, impatient, knowing he'd come. I'd planned everything down to the smallest detail, but now it seemed impossible. There wasn't a single corner without watchful eyes. Head out to the street? No way. If our parents found out, we'd be screwed. Pedro was coming too, but the problem was the same. A full house, a watched house, desires trapped, stuck in our throats.
We were in the bedroom, changing out of our bikinis, between laughs and teasing. What stuck in my mind was the chance to finally get a closer look at her up close. She had no hair down there; whatever grew was shaved. There, hidden behind the closet door, our hands explored, sliding over hot, damp skin. I loved it. In silent complicity, we brought our hands to our mouths together, tasting the flavors that mixed. We agreed that next time, we'd go further. The soft touch, the scent, the wetness, the texture of her skin—it all set me on fire inside. But the moment was broken by the shouts and footsteps of the girls coming up the stairs, scattering the desire that still burned.
The day was a whirlwind. With so many people in the house, I was forced to help my mom with the chores. Everyone brought something: a dish, a drink, and though it was tiring, the day went pleasantly. I insisted she stay another night, and with the aunt's okay, the plan was set. Anxious, my mind wandered, obsessed with that idea of going further. The constant thought left me wet, building a urge to sneak off to the bathroom several times to relieve myself.
On one of those trips, she brushed past me, whispering almost inaudibly:
"Julia, play it cool and sneak to your room."
My heart raced. I thought she wanted to meet me. I slipped away from the eyes and went to the door. When I opened it, I was hit with something unexpected. Already on the bed, Otávio had her in his arms, and Pedro, with a mischievous grin, stared at me like he knew some dirty secret. That's when I realized: she'd planned it all without asking me. A setup to hook up with the boys. The surprise quickly turned to desire. The idea, I confess, turned me on. After all, no one would think twice about close cousins in a house this full.
As soon as I stepped in, my naughtiness took me straight to Pedro's mouth. We backed against the closet, and that skinny horndog stuck to me with a hunger that was almost too much. He had a fire overflowing, but the pleasure got interrupted several times by my attempts to set limits—my cousin was in the same room, after all. Still, I confess: his kiss wasn't anything special, nor was mine. But when that scruffy mustache grazed my neck, I felt a shiver right to my nipples. A flood broke loose between my legs, and an "oh" slipped from my lips.
On the bed, they were in a wild makeout session. Heavy, ragged breathing echoed in the room along with the smacks of kisses, while a blanket covering their waists made a little tent over whatever was happening there. From the movement, she was gripping his cock tight and looked like she was jerking him off. Jealous, I wanted to do the same with Pedro, but the shame of putting my hand there froze me.
Pedro squeezed my ass hard, and I ground against him, slick as a snake. My breasts, so sensitive, rubbed against his leanness, and it drove me wild out of control. I wasn't paying attention to the door anymore—the lookout, which was me, had given in. We could get caught any second, but it didn't matter now.
What fascinated me was feeling his cock, hard, pressing between us. It was long, firm, the stiffness running from the base to his hip. Without thinking, I started rubbing my mound against it, curious, while he kept squeezing my ass. I wiggled, guiding his hand to the right spot, but the idiot didn't get the hint.
He tried several times to slip his hand into my pussy, but I pulled back, uncomfortable. I knew if he got there, I'd lose all control and do something stupid right then. Finally, when he figured out what I wanted, he pulled half his dick out. I giggled like an idiot and reached for it; the tip was wet, and I wanted to taste it. I questioned myself over and over if I should suck it or not, right there. We kissed with eyes closed, but I kept peeking to try and see what his cock looked like—I'd never seen one before.
In truth, everything happened slowly, almost in slow motion. He was inexperienced, and so was I. There was this weird game between wanting and holding back, a dance between desire and the need to preserve my innocence, the fear of being talked about. Every touch, every move, carried a calculated hesitation. We had to hide the fire consuming us.
To the frustration of whoever's reading, the tension broke. We went down the stairs, the boys trying to hide their hard-ons, and we, laughing, ran to the bathroom. There, between jokes and secrets, we competed to see who was wetter, while our hearts still pounded with the heat of what could have been.