Three weeks had elapsed since Lisa and I reached the monumental though long overdue decision to call time on our eight-year relationship. Yet to sink in fully, particularly as we still shared the flat, neither of us had had the inclination to seek alternative accommodation, happy to drift along like rudderless ships. And that, I’m afraid, was indicative of our relationship in recent times, the passion and desire of old replaced by staleness and lethargy. For me, it was easier to move into the spare room than it was to move on.

Looking back, in one way things changed from being an intimate couple one moment to virtual strangers the next almost overnight. Though, on the other, the once rock solid union that was the envy of our friends had been wavering for a year or more. With July’s arrival heralding the beginning of summer, our sex life over the previous seven months of the year could be summarised as three limp-dicked attempts on my part and a trio of lie-back-and-think-of-England efforts from Lisa. The sad yet inevitable truth was that we’d grown apart in more ways than one.

Conversation was rare nowadays and thus it came as some surprise when she confronted me verbally one morning. “I assume you’re still going to this wedding at the weekend,” she mused as we mimed our way around the day’s early rituals, trying not to get in one another’s way.

Glancing over her shoulder at the calendar on the kitchen wall, I admitted having forgotten about it. What with all the crap that had gone on in the past month, it had slipped my mind that my favourite cousin Jane was about to be wed. Naturally, Lisa and I had been invited together, and were supposed to be going as a couple. As yet, none of my family knew about the split; I just hadn’t had the heart to tell them. Besides which, they were rather fond of Lisa and I needed to inform them properly. “You’ll still want to come, won’t you?” I enquired, adding: “As a friend of course.”

Lisa screwed up those pretty petite features that, some day soon I expected, another guy would come to appreciate as much as I had over the years. In many ways, I still loved her, just not enough or in the right ways. Though if I met her now afresh, I guessed I could fall in love all over again. In fact, she looked as lovely now as she had during our university days, those gorgeous hazel eyes always so expressive, bouncy brunette locks playfully caressing each shoulder.

The trouble was, eight years of living in one another’s pockets had taken a heavy toll and there was nowhere left for the relationship to go. Nonetheless, I wanted our last times together to be memorable, perhaps as fun as the first time together and to go out on a high. We didn’t hate each other, we just didn’t love one another amymore and eight years is a long time. “Please Lisa,” I implored. “You’ve always got on so well with my family and they’ll be devastated not to see you.”

That was indisputable, some of the holidays and Christmas breaks we’d spent together in my family’s company were high among my fondest memories. Lisa’s family, on the other hand, was all split and distant, not like a family at all, always rowing and griping. The few gatherings they’d thrown had been akin to a visit to the dentist. That was one thing I certainly wouldn’t miss. It was as if my family had adopted Lisa as one of their own. She was always guaranteed a warm welcome and made to feel at home. Though in fairness, it was no basis upon which to pretend we could get along as normal.

“You haven’t told your parents yet, have you?” she observed with keen perception.

“No,” I admitted. “But I will…soon.”

“And in the meantime, you expect me to act as if nothing’s happened?”

I shrugged. “I just want them to be happy.”

“You’re a coward, Gary,” she said with disdain.”

“Look upon it as a free holiday, a weekend of leisure,” I contested. “You absolutely loved it the last time we were down there.”

She couldn’t deny that, having gone on about it for weeks and how, if our numbers came up, we’d get a nice big place in the countryside too. I could see Lisa reflecting on the better times, and with good reason, for my grandparents, in whose estate the wedding reception was being held, were loaded. Doubtless a massive marquee would be erected on the lawn, with a banquet that could feed half of England and entertainment to rival Glastonbury. She sighed and shook her head. “I can’t go with you Gary, sorry. It wouldn’t be right.”

“It’ll probably be the last time you get to see them,” I retorted, immediately biting my tongue guiltily.

“Don’t blackmail me, Gary,” she shot back.

Trying to inject some much needed humour into the proceedings, I added: “At least you won’t mind this time when gran makes us sleep in separate rooms.”

Lisa struggled to stifle a little giggle, recalling, as I did, the extreme lengths – akin to a prisoner of war tunnelling-out exercise – we’d gone to to enjoy some stolen passion during past visits. The light moment having passed by, her face returned to the sour expression I’d become accustomed to of late. “I’ll think about it, okay,” she relented, before grabbing her keys and heading off to work.

—

Thursday morning arrived as we dodged around each other in some elaborate early morning charade, getting ready for work. As she headed for the door, Lisa turned and beckoned me over. I hadn’t once mentioned the wedding since the start of the week, and that must have counted in my favour and swayed her decision. “I’ll come with you to the wedding – for old time’s sake,” she confirmed. “But I think you should tell them.”

My face lit up like a Christmas Tree. Don’t get me wrong, I knew things were over between us and no amount of effort was going to bring us back together but I wanted us to go out on a high. It was probably selfish, but also I didn’t want to be ‘alone’. And I’d show Lisa what she was walking away from.

Thursday in the office flew by, the evening bringing the journey south west. The plan was for Friday to be spent chilling out around the stately home’s rolling acres, whilst everyone else ran around like headless chickens organising things for Saturday’s ceremony. I couldn’t deny that I was looking forward to getting away from London and digesting some healthy country air.

The 300-mile journey passed in almost complete silence – I suspected Lisa was having second thoughts – and the sun was retreating when finally we arrived. Greeted at the door by a ruddy-faced, white-haired gran, she had a sloppy kiss for her favourite grandson and a warm hug for Lisa. That was followed by the inevitable observation: “It’ll be you two getting married next.”

We both cringed. I suspected we’d hear it a dozen times more before the weekend was out. Before leaving, I’d managed to talk Lisa into spending it together ‘as a couple’ as I had no wish to put a dampener on Jane’s joyful occasion with our bad news. Reluctantly she’d agreed.

There was quite a gathering of relatives out on the patio, all with the same idea of arriving early to avoid the rush and to take advantage of the facilities. My mum and dad were there among them, offering hearty greetings as they welcomed us into their midst. Lisa must have felt awkward, having to act as if everything was normal. I smiled at her but she stared back blankly. Oh well, c’est la vie.

Several aunts and uncles and a clutch of cousins sat nearby, including Jane, the bride-to-be. Immediately distant memories passed between us as we embraced. I was introduced for the first time to her betroved, a stout chap called Paul, the pair of us shaking hands warmly. Grandad was buzzing around like a bee, busily making sure everyone had a drink in hand, the bottle of lager passed my way gratefully received in the wake of the hot sticky journey. Just when it seemed everyone had been introduced, I was confronted by Emily, a cousin I’d not set eyes upon in over a decade. “You remember Emily?” grandpa prompted.

I did, but not in this way. My jaw fell open discernibly “Little Emily?” I enquired, holding a hand horizontal at waist height to illustrate how tall, or small, she’d been back then.

‘My, you’ve grown’ was an undoubted cliche but she had, into an absolute stunner: tits, I noticed almost immediately, two sizes too big for her slim body, firm tummy exposed, inevitably with a pierced navel, with natural blonde wavy hair and a bad-girl pout to die for. I reckoned she must be fifteen or sixteen. Our eyes made instant appraisals before retracting. Wow-wee was my immediate and my lasting reaction. Occasionally as small talk filled the air, I’d steal a glance in Emily’s direction, and more often than not she would be looking back.

Grandpa made us all assemble on the lawn for a family photo. With customary teenage disdain, Emily frowned but was shooed into place, coming to stand in front of me, the faintest brushes of plump prime young arse on manly crotch. As we broke, she gave me a cute little smile.

It wasn’t long before a second bottle of beer filled my hand, tales of yore ringing around the circle. Relatives are great for disclosing the most embarrassing stories from years back and mine were no exception. Mum and dad made sure I suffered good and proper. Catching my cousin Jane’s eye, it was the story that only the two of us knew that, for some reason, filled my mind. I wondered if Jane was thinking the same.

—

The summer of my thirteenth year, fifteen years before, mum and dad packed me off to the grandparents so that they could embark upon an ‘adult’ holiday with Jane’s parents. Though she was fifteen and quite grown up, Jane wasn’t yet deemed mature enough to fend for herself, so she too would spend the fortnight in the westcountry being babysat by our doting grandparents.

Don’t get me wrong, Jane was sweet and the estate had to be the most idyllic setting outside of Brideshead Revisited. But being a typical teenaged boy, it was male company I craved to go exploring with in the woods, to catch frogs in the stream, to kick footballs at on the lawn and to start fires with in the forest. For me, there was little appeal in a fifteen-year old girl. Besides, Jane had a habit of disappearing at the most innopportune times.

Something inside me was about to change over the course of that summer.

Hollering her name as I went, suddenly I was stopped in my tracks. There across the forest in a little clearing, Jane was on her hands and knees, head at the crotch of one of the stable hands. I knew of blowjobs, word-of-mouth so to speak, from boys in my class, but this being before the widespread advent of the internet, I’d never seen an image of one. As my cousin worked faster, the groom grunted and stiffened. “Not in my mouth,” she warned.

The next moment, as he pulled out, thick sperm shot out to paint the undergrowth. The horseman jerked up his jeans quickly and disappeared as quickly as he’d come.

It was then that she saw me looking on guiltily. “Gary, did you…?” she enquired, indicating towards where the stable hand had exited. “Oh gosh, I suppose you’ll be wanting the same to keep this quiet,” she added, beckoning me closer.

“I…um…no…I…” I spluttered.

The hard prick in my shorts betrayed me totally. Reaching out, Jane touched it with the tips of her fingers. I gasped as her hand closed about the throbbing shaft, appraising it through the material. Easing back, she lifted the hem of the long skirt to expose just the tops of her thighs and panty-covered crotch. It was some sight to behold for a young boy who, it had been ordained, was about to grow up fast.

Tugging down the shorts and my underpants in one heft, she grinned as she gazed upon my pubescent body, a young developing cock standing out erectly from a nest of soft brown hair. Reaching out instinctively, I ran a hand over the flat of her belly. A chill went through my hungry young body as my fingertips touched the top of her nylon panties. Continuing lower, my fingers reached the soft rise of her pubic mat beneath the thin material of the panties. I thrilled as I became aware of the warmth and moistness of her pussy beneath, longing to see her naked.

Not sure of the exact protocol in such a provocative situation (I’d only ever kissed one girl before), I fell to my knees and ran a shaky pair of hands up her smooth calves, before finding her warm thighs. Jane mewed as my young hands continued up the backs of her legs and began to rub her panty-covered arse cheeks. Leaning forward, instinctively I rubbed my face over her firm belly, thrilling at the warmth.

My roving fingers found her hips, taking hold of the elastic top of her knickers. I wanted nothing more than to rip them off, but something slowed me down, an overwhelming urge to savour the moment. Slowly I eased them down to expose the soft flesh of her lower belly. My youthful eyes widened as the panties went below the mat of hair, inhaling deeply the sweet aroma coming my way. Lower I pulled the silken garment, until my cousin’s pussy was fully exposed to me. I shuddered in anticipation and wonder at the sight. As Jane sighed longingly, I pulled her panties down below the knees as she lifted one foot then the other to be rid of them. I was learning fast.

I stood up and reached for the buttons of her blouse fumbling nervously until it was open to the waist. She shrugged out of it as I stood admiring her full tits, trapped inside a bra. She turned slowly to allow me to fumble with the catch between her shoulder blades, then felt the restraining garment ease free as I slipped the straps away.

I looked longingly at my cousin’s naked back and could not resist kissing the warm flesh between her shoulderblades as my hands went under her armpits and around her body to cup a pair of full, soft tits in tremulous hands. I felt her budding nipples rub against the palms and stiffen to my touch. Jane then turned in my arms and slipped hers about my neck to kiss me fully on the mouth. She must have sensed my apprehension as she forced her tongue between my lips and felt my body stiffen momentarily.

Taking control, she reached down to take hold of my erect prick. I sighed and shuddered again as her hand closed about the shaft, feeling it twitch as her soft tongue moved inside my mouth. Her bare tits were pressed flat against my chest and I could feel her stiff nipples as I reacted to her French kisses, swirling my tongue about hers. Then she retracted her tongue and I moved in to press mine into her mouth. A whole new thrill went through my lustful young body as my cousin sucked on my tongue, whilst pulling her skirt low on her hips to let it fall in a soft pile about her feet.

With a seductive smile, Jane stepped out of the skirt as my eager hands closed on the soft cheeks of her bum and pressed her into my hot body. With a delicate hand, she guided the throbbing prick between her legs, causing my body to stiffen as the head nudged the soft lips of her pussy. I groaned as my body was filled with the warmth of my cousin’s flesh and I felt the moistness of her pussy against the head of my prick. As we held in that position, she rubbed her tits over my young chest and ran her hands down to my naked arse as she hunched against me. Licking an earlobe made me shudder. “Stay there,” she entreated as I stood bot upright and she lowered.

On the one hand I was disapointed not to be able to bury my cock in her cunt, but on the other, I knew I was in for a real treat. “You won’t tell grandpa about what you saw earlier, will you Gary?” she pleaded.

I glanced down in stunned amazement as she lowered her head over my throbbing cock. I felt her mouth take the head in and, as her warm, wet tongue swirled about its sensitive head, I gasped, unable to believe what was happening. Jane, my fifteen-year old cousin, had my prick in her mouth and she was sucking it like a lollipop.

I moaned as she drew her head up and licked my young prick deftly. At the same time she fondled my sperm-filled balls lovingly. In response, I ran my fingers through her hair as her head bobbed up and down rapidly, encouraging her on. With little warning of what was to come I came. Up to that point I’d never so much as masturbated so this was some sexual baptism. Jane held still as I erupted in her waiting mouth.
I felt special knowing she hadn’t let the stable hand do that.

She felt the first splash of cum on her tongue and swallowed it down before another thick glob followed, then another. My fingers tightened in her hair as she swallowed my cum and tongued the head of my spurting prick laviciously. Jane looked up and smiled as she observed the look of total surprise in my youthful eyes. She squeezed the last droplet of cum from the still hard prick with a wanton sigh. “Was that good?” she questioned.

“Oh yes,” I replied hoarsely, never ever wanting to play Cowboys and Indians again.

From a distance, our names rang out, summoning us to tea and regrettably foreshortening the illicit tryst. Yet, as first sexual experiences went, that was incredible and I was ecstatic for the rest of the holiday.

—

Suddenly I was transported back to the present by a fresh beer thrust into my hand. Looking over, I caught Jane’s eye and wondered if she remembered our games of fifteen years ago. It was amazing to think she was the same age then as lovely little Emily was now. I couldn’t help but wonder whether Emily took after her cousin. It was a lurid thought indeed to take into Friday.

Tired from a day at work and the sapping journey, after an hour on the patio Lisa elected to retire. Breaking away momentarily from the family, and the beguiling Emily, I helped transport the luggage cases from the car, the pair of us following gran upstairs. “With the amount we’ve staying this weekend, I’m going to break my golden rule,” she beamed. “Well, you two are as good as married.”

Lisa and I exchanged ironic glances. When gran was gone, she warned: “Just keep to your side of the bed, okay, and everything will be fine.”

I nodded my consent. Anyhow, I was going to spend another hour or so with the old folks – and Emily. “See you later.”

I suspect Lisa was relieved at my exit. In any event, it was time to move onto something new.

—

Part 2 is on its way. All comments, suggestions and observations are gratefully received as ever.