So sweltering hot. A dry heat, they say, but little consolation when there's no air conditioning at your grandmother's house, packed full of cousins and aunts and uncles. There was a swimming excursion scheduled, but that was for the younger kids mostly. There was some drama of some sort, and at seventeen I was just too broody and cool to hang out with them. Mom was pretty sick of my shitty attitude, and said as much, so I went off the front room to watch TV. When I fell asleep, the house was full. When I woke, it was strangely quiet. I could hear someone in the kitchen, and water running. This was a familiar sound there, as gramma had no automatic dishwasher in her 90-year-old home. I looked outside to find all the cars had gone, and wandered into the kitchen to get a drink, expecting to find Gramma or an aunt washing dishes. But I didn't. It was her. "Where is everybody?" I asked her. She explained where each small group had gone off to, and that she had gotten into a "discussion" with her mom, my aunt. I knew that meant they were fighting and she had decided to be petulant, as I had, and stay behind. She was almost 20, and had come along on this trip at the last minute. I had been secretly happy to hear this; as long as I could remember she had fascinated me. She was pretty and funny and smart, a little shy, slightly demur. At nine or 10, we had smooched just a little, truth-or-dare, spin-the-bottle sort of thing. When I was 13 we were among several in the back seat during a short journey, at night, in the dark. No one could see that our hands had found each other, and joined them, neither of us speaking. I remembered that day well, as I thought I was going to pass out from not breathing. But she was "one of the adults" now, and treated me little like one of the kids. For the first time in our lives, we were alone together, inside. I grabbed a can of soda, and as I closed the fridge, I froze in my tracks. She was wearing loose fitting gym shorts that were shorter than modesty might allow, which was probably what my aunt had been upset about. My oblique view of her standing at the sink afforded me the most breathtaking sight. I didn't remember her shorts being quite that short a moment ago. Did she pull them up so that her ass cheeks peeked out? The water had splashed up onto her t-shirt, plain cotton, bright yellow. She was petite, and her breasts had always been round and perky. Now they were fuller, slightly heavy, and they seemed to push against her shirt as if they wanted out. Somehow it never occurred to me that she had nipples, but now they were so clearly visible, outlined against her wet shirt, her areolas contrasting with the rest of her smooth, tight breasts. The tips of her nipples looked as if they might tear through the fabric. She was a spectacular sight. There was no time to waste. "This soda is still warm". I walked to her and opened the cabinet above her and to the left, and in doing so, pressed my pelvis against her round and ample ass. She could have moved. She did not. I took a glass from the cupboard and lingered there with my face next to hers. I thought I heard her breath. Back the fridge to fill the glass with ice, then soda, then back to her, leaning ever so casually against the counter. We tried to chat, but there was something in the air, something tangible, electric. When the silence got long, I set down my glass. I’d wasted too much time already. I stood close behind her and traced my fingers on her left arm above her elbow. She did not move or balk, but tensed just a little. I put my lips near her ear so she could feel my breath, and moved my hands to the backs of her legs pulling them slowly up to her sweet ass, gripping her cheeks, gently at first, then more firmly. Her breath came in smartly, then escaped as she attempted to stifle a moan. As I slid them upward, I pushed under her shirt, slipping beneath the material, cupping those full breasts, squeezing firmly, feeling her taut nipples between my thumbs and forefingers, pushing my groin against her ass, knowing she could feel my erection. A sound escaped her throat, something between a moan and a grunt, her lips together, then apart as she pulled in another breath sharply. Her hands never left the counter top as I stood behind her, fondling her, putting my hands where I wanted without any specific permission. I’ll wait no longer. Without gentleness or delicacy, I pushed my right hand under the waistband of her shorts and panties at the same time, combing my fingers through her soft pubic hair, and down, further, until I felt what I suspected would be there; heat and wetness. She gave what might be slight resistance, easily overcome as I pushed my middle finger as far as I could into her very wet pussy. Faintly, almost inaudibly, from her lips came, “stop”. But I curled my finger and pressed hard against her, pulling up, almost lifting her, her weight resting on my hand, my finger, my groin. I fingered her hard, never saying a word, listening to her take short, sharp breaths, grinding against her, fingering her, fingering her, fingering her, until she cried out and tensed up, moving her hand for the first time to grab my forearm and hold my hand in place as a sudden flow of wet warmth covered my fingers. Her knees buckled slightly, and as she took her hand away to catch herself, I quickly stepped back and jerked her pants down to her ankles, then put my foot on them between her feet, forcing her to step out of them. Holding her against the counter, I pushed my own pants down, freeing my aching cock. My arm around her waist, I lifted as I kicked her feet apart and positioned my erection between her legs. I felt her vulva against the head, so wet, so hot it almost burned. As her labia parted, she tensed again. “No… we can’t…” “Why” I asked, daring her say it out loud. “Because we’re cousins…”. Before her words could echo off the linoleum floor, I pushed my cock as deep as it would go into her burning hot, wet pussy. I fucked her. Oh god, did I fuck her. Grabbed her hips and shoved my cock in, over and over, my pelvis slapping loudly against her ass, over and over, her wetness rolling down my balls, over and over. She grunted like an animal, again and again. Out loud I ask her, “you wanted this didn’t you?” She manages a breathless “yes”. Then louder, “you wanted this, didn’t you? You wanted me to fuck you, didn’t you? DIDN’T YOU!?” “Yes!” she said aloud. “I wanted you to fuck me… I wanted … wanted you to… fuck… god dammit fuck me…FUCK ME!” I fucked her. I fucked her. I fucked her. I fucked her. I felt the buildup, deep inside. More urgently came the thrusts, more deliberate, hers and mine as she fucked me back. Then, spoken through clenched teeth, the words “don’t stop… give it to me… give it to me god dammit… I want it, all of it!” I knew. Felt it deep in my balls. It was coming, and I was going to put in inside her. Tires on gravel. Oh shit, someone’s coming up the driveway. She heard it, I know she did. We had maybe 30 seconds before the kitchen door would open. Pumping. Pumping. Pumping. Grunting out loud, her and I, fucking, fucking. I stood back slightly, lifted her ass cheeks with both hands, pushed my cock in as far as it would go, and I released. Released. Released. Each spurt felt like a quart. She stopped breathing for a moment, and I could feel her pussy tighten, pulling on my cock as if to extract all of the thick nectar that she wanted so badly. Car doors closing; ten seconds max. I gave one more pump, because I couldn’t pull it out yet. Sound of keys. I withdrew, yanked up my pants, grabbed my soda and quickly sat down at the kitchen table. She grabbed her shorts and panties and dashed for the bathroom. They asked where she was. “She’s in the bathroom. I think she got her shirt wet or something”. The word “wet” caused my cock to spasm. She came back in with a different shirt on, and a bra, the one she took off when she realized we were alone in the house.