Chapter 3

The house was packed, everyone showing up all 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 ton of us. She was anxious, impatient, knew he’d come. She’d planned everything down to the tiniest 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. He’d come too, but the problem was the same. A full house, a watched house, desires locked up, choking 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 clean. 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 feel of the skin — it all set me on fire inside. But the moment got cut short by the girls yelling and stomping up the stairs, scaring off the desire that still burned.

The day was a whirlwind. With so many people in the house, I got roped into helping my mom with the chores. Everyone brought something — a dish, a drink — and though it was exhausting, the day went by nice enough. 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 thoughts left me soaked, building a urge to sneak off to the bathroom a bunch of times to get some relief.

On one of those trips, she brushed past me, whispering so low it was barely there:

“Julia, play it cool and sneak up to your room on the down low.”

My heart pounded. I thought she wanted to meet up. I dodged the eyes and headed there. When I opened the door, I ran into something unexpected. Already on the bed, Otávio had her in his arms, and Pedro, with a sly grin, stared me down like he knew some dirty secret. That’s when it hit me: she’d planned the whole thing without looping me in. A setup to hook up with the boys. The surprise quickly turned to desire. The idea, I admit, turned me on. After all, no one would bat an eye at cousins getting close in a house this full.

As soon as I stepped in, my naughtiness took me straight to Pedro’s mouth. We backed up against the closet, and that skinny little perv stuck to me with a hunger that was almost too much. He had a fire spilling over, but the fun got interrupted a bunch by my tries to set boundaries — 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 of his grazed my neck, I got chills straight to my nipples. A flood broke loose between my legs, and an “oh” slipped from my lips.

On the bed, they were going at it wild. Heavy, ragged breaths echoed in the room with the smacks of their kisses, while a blanket draped over their waists made a little tent over whatever was happening down there. From the motion, she had his cock gripped tight and looked like she was jerking him off. Jealous, I wanted to do the same with Pedro, but the shame of reaching out froze me.

Pedro squeezed my ass hard, and I ground against him, slick as a snake. My tits, so sensitive, rubbed against his scrawny frame, and it drove me crazy with lust. I wasn’t even watching the door anymore — the lookout, me, had given in. We could get caught any second, but it didn’t matter. What hooked me was feeling his dick, hard, pressing between us. It was long, solid, the stiffness running from the base right to his hip. Without thinking, I started rubbing my mound against it, curious, while he kept groping my ass. I wiggled, trying to guide his hand to the right spot, but the idiot wasn’t getting it.

He tried a few times to shove his hand in my pussy, but I pulled back, uncomfortable. I knew if he got there, I’d lose all control and do something stupid right then and there. Finally, when he figured out what I wanted, he pulled half his cock out. I laughed like an idiot and reached down; the tip was wet, and I wanted to taste it. I second-guessed myself a bunch on whether I should suck it right there. We kissed with our eyes shut, but I kept peeking to try and see what his dick looked like — I’d never seen one up close.

Truth is, it all happened slow, almost in slow motion. He was inexperienced, and so was I. There was this weird game of wanting and holding back, a dance between desire and the need to keep my innocence, the fear of getting talked about. Every touch, every move, came with calculated hesitation. We had to hide the fire eating us up.

To the frustration of whoever’s reading, the tension broke. We headed downstairs, the boys trying to hide their hard-ons, and us, giggling, we bolted to the bathroom. There, between jokes and secrets, we competed to see who was wetter, while our hearts still thumped with the heat of what almost happened.