My Cousin Came to Visit Ch. 01

Notice: This is a Copyrighted Fictional Story; any resemblance, to any person, alive or deceased, whether implied or imagined, is both accidental and unintended. The story is about an ongoing incestual relationship between a brother, his sister and their cousins occurring in New Jersey in the 1960's. This story will eventually have 3 chapters. If you are looking for a masturbatory experience, this is not it. If adult fiction of this nature disturbs you, you are strongly encouraged to leave these pages now.

Return from that Dirty Ole Asian War ~

Like many of America's young men, and more than a few of its young women my unwanted Presidential Vacation at Hotel Vietnam was less than enjoyable.

An Army Sergeant, an Airborne Ranger assigned to the 1^st Cavalry Division (Airmobile) 1^st Squadron, 9^th Cavalry Regiment on the 20^th of October 1965 and had worked with my squad on several patrols. On the 12^th of November we were augmenting a Bravo Troop 1^st/9^th Scout along the south bank of the Ia Drang River, a meandering stream that would eventually mix with the multinational Mekong River. The area was known to have many caves, left by the lava flows from the extinct Chu Pong Volcano. As we moved toward the southwest we started to detect unusual activity, coming over a low ridge where the river ran over a series of ledges creating half a dozen small waterfalls into a calm lake with pretty beach. We found a group of young people washing clothes, and relaxing. We captured them all and discovered a Corp Level hospital, a hundred and ten nurses, most of then, pretty girls, but most significantly, we captured a major general administrator and two brigadier generals who were surgeons.

On the morning of the 14^th of the month, following a huge political fight between the Field Commanders, the Division Headquarters, and the Political CIA and Regional Commanders in Saigon, the division inserted the 1^st Squadron 7^th Cavalry near the northeast slope of the Chu Pong Massif. Rather than committing enough aviation assets to land the entire Squadron in short order only a Helicopter Company was assigned. It took more than two hours to get the entire force on the ground. By the time the last wave was orbiting to land the unit was in a huge fire-fight that resulted the insertion of two other squadron sized units. Despite reports, histories, and tall tales, we didn't do more than hurt the North Vietnamese Army; their commander knew he couldn't match the U.S.'s material power so he just withdrew. My squad was assigned to scout for the 2^nd of the 7^th's withdrawal toward LZ New York, four miles distant from the original LZ. That's where the trouble began.

That squadron commander must have had a hot date; either that or he was a fool, 60 percent of his unit, myself included, would pay for his malfeasance. More than 51 percent would die, I was lucky, bayoneted and shot, I nearly died, nearly being the operative word. Only a really good doctor, who was drafted because he had no intention of allowing the Army to run his career, working as a medic was able to save me. Naval Surgeons on the USNS Comfort told me that he saved my life, doing surgery in the field that most Army Trauma Centers couldn't do. I'd have bled out if he hadn't sewed me up, me and a dozen more that afternoon, and night into morning.

After almost a year in the hospital I was allowed 45 days recovery leave before I had to report for an evaluation physical.

Gone to the Beach ~

I'd started my physical training to build myself back up, determined to get back to a 100 percent. The city, Jersey City, where I'd lived most of my life, was too crowded, too stressful for any kind of real peace and 'leave me alone' quiet. I arranged to borrow my uncles place at the Sea Girt Beach in Monmouth County, taking the train down and a taxi to the foot of Sea Girt Avenue, right alongside the State National Guard Base, which worked out, cause I'd have access to the PX.

It was August, comfortable and warm; I developed a good routine, running five miles every day, and doing upper body three days a week with lower body on the alternate days. I'd been at the beach for a week when my mother decided that I needed a minder, I guess she wanted to be sure I was eating and all that, she sent my nineteen year old cousin Grace, but I don't think she intended what happened, and I didn't know she was coming down. Non-military communications had never been my strong suit, and in those days before cellphones, there was no voicemail unless you had a secretary.

A G.I. Training Routine gets tiring, so on the seventh day I decided to take a break, walking over to the Gym in the Base to shoot some hoops. Because it was Sunday I hadn't done anything particular about dressing, just pulling a pair of brief, unrestrictive gym shorts over my nakedness, leaving my treasured, well abused, eight inch, uncircumcised pussy pleaser dangling. Being a typical young guy, just twenty-one, I was constantly horny, I'd tested my metal with a couple of Bar Girls down in Georgia and one fetching fem-fatale on the bus coming home from the hospital, but after a week alone I was choking my chicken till he spat three or four times a day, even the cute older lady in the PX gave me a hardon, and she noticed too.

Now I'm not the handsomest guy, but I'm not ugly either, and at six foot, my one-ninety-six pounds gave me a strong appearance. While I'd played for more than an hour, I'd about made up my mind to go to one of the beach bars that night to try and get laid. Getting pretty well sweated up I walked home carrying, occasionally dribbling the ball as I walked.

Ours was the last house on the street, backed right up to the beach, surrounded by a privacy fence with thick high hedges that the gardener kept manicured. I knew something was different as I approached, the gate was ajar, I often cussed the postman, he wouldn't close it either. Stepping into the yard I was on guard, Sea Girt is a peaceful community, but it was summer and one never knew about the bums from Philadelphia or New York. Rounding the corner of the house, it was designed so that the veranda and the shaded porch faced the sea, I saw a pretty blond head, but it was another couple of feet before I'd recognized Gracie, she'd changed her hair style, she looked older.

Grace is five-seven, a little taller than average with a slim, pretty, heart shaped face, designed for kissing, and from what my lust filled mind remembered of my going away party two years earlier, she was hot. She wore a yellow chiffon blouse with a white, pleated, flared, summer skirt. She looked hot, so I decided to find out what was happening before I let her in, forgetting my lack of underwear, I squatted to sit on my basket ball.

Gracie's eyes honed in on my mistake at the same time the sea breezes on Mr. John Thomas' exposure alerted me to my error, but being a ranger had made me bold, and because she was sitting on the porch's top step, I could see right up her skirt, the backs of her luscious thighs, clad in taught tan hosiery with umber support bands, tightly gartered to pink lace straps, bare flesh that almost demanded kisses, and above them pink lace panties that caressed nature's treasures. Her eyes remained locked on my cock, and knowing I was looking, instead of closing her thighs, she unconsciously allowed them to open more. I couldn't help but notice the darkening at her panty gusset, getting darker as she asked,

"Have you had breakfast yet?"

"Hours ago," I replied boldly, realizing the JT was fully erect, "but lunch is staring right at me." I said kneeling between her thighs, gently kissing her. As I lifted her into my embrace, kissing her again, her hand drifted to caress my standing rod. Placing my desires aside is said,

"Let's go in and get something to eat."

"But don't you want too . . ."

"Yes, very much so, but that fire will smolder as long as we want it too, it will blaze when we release it!"

After we finished our steaks, it was nearly dark, we adjourned to the beauty of the screened porch, watching the surf as I poured us snifters of Uncle Frank's Napoleon Black Pearl, the finest Cognac on earth, except for the fact that Frank had hundreds of friends in France, he'd been O.S.S. in deep cover there for most of WW II, and many of them ancestral aristocrats, the cost of opening it would have been prohibitive, a single liter was reputed to sell for 29,000 dollars, but he had four cases in his wine cellar.

As I offered the nectar of the gods to Grace, she replied,

"You know I'm only nineteen, don't you."

"Yes, and I choose to see an adult, and a lady." I said, reclining beside her on a comfortable chaise lounge. Grace offered a toast,

"Welcome home from the war, here's to an enjoyable night." We clinked our glasses, each taking a sip, I remarked, snuggling closer to her,

"You can tell why this stuff is thirty grand a bottle, it's so smooth."

"Kiss me!" Grace demanded, turning to face me, then moving partly over me as I set our glasses on a serving table, drawing her sweet tender lips to mine. I've lain with women, but nothing so sweet and precious as my cousin, the need, and dare I say it, the love was overwhelming.

The sensations as her leg slipped over mine, as her thigh pressed on my surging erection was electric. With a hand caressing her nether cheek and the other under her blouse, molding her sensual breast, her emboldened nipple on my palm thru the silken chemise, she pushed her hand into my shorts to stroke my engorgement. It took all my willpower to prevent immediate ejaculation. We were too hot. We needed each other too much. Lifting her astride my thighs I pulled the gusset of her fine lace panties aside, fingering the lubricious slot that defined her gender as she guided me to nirvana. The sexual grasp of her moist heat stripped the foreskin from my knob as I penetrated her deeply.

It was too much, we had teased and delayed too long, our risen fire was an inferno, as her secret lips widened at the base of my cock as she smashed her clitoris desperately, driven by our lusts against my pubic bone, her sensual sheath crushed my distended engorging cock in a mutually driven seismic orgasm. The plates of the earth moved as my darling cousin Grace collapsed atop me, and in truth, I remember nothing.

An hour passed, it was completely dark, I returned from only God knows where. My cock was a swollen pipe of heated flesh, held firmly by the tightest, sweetest pussy I'd ever enjoyed, Grace breathed softly in my ear. I sawed my rampant prick into then out of her. She moaned,

"Oh God, you know the best way to wake me lover." She whispered. "Fuck me!" She commanded.

Who am I to refuse a beautiful woman I thought, replying,

"With the greatest pleasure."

We were no longer fucking, we were making love. Twenty, perhaps twenty-five minutes later we shared another orgasm. We paused as I undressed her and she undressed me. Then kissing my way down her sweet body, I parted the lips of nirvana, sucking her until she sprayed her orgasmic glee over my cheeks. Mounting her on mankind's most important axel I carried her, moaning, cuming, into the surf. I have no idea how many times we made love before a dreamless sleep overcame us. It was nearly noon when I woke, ejaculating into Graces' throat, then she climbed on me to have her way with me. We were rutting madly in the throes of a grand mal orgasm when her sister Eileen walked in.