COUSIN CAROL

                 My cousin, Carol, is four years older than I am.  She lives down the
                 street, and my folks and hers -- my aunt and uncle (my mother's stepsister
                 and her husband) -- have always been very good friends, doing all
                 kinds of things together.  Carol always stayed over at my house,
                 because her room was full of dolls and playhouses and I had a
                 double-decker bunk bed (I got the top bunk).  That has meant that,
                 when I was younger (and so was she), one sitter was hired for both
                 of us and she slept in my room until our parents came home and her
                 parents took her home.  Later, Carol sat for me herself, earning
                 75 cents an hour.

                 When we were really young, some older woman would sit for us and I don't
                 remember much about her.  By the time I was five years old (and Carol
                 was nine), our parents had teenagers sitting us.  I remember so many
                 good times we had, fooling the sitters into letting us drink sodas and
                 watch TV, playing board games with endless changes in the rules to match
                 our whims, building elaborate "forts" of furniture and blankets ...

                 But, for purposes of this narrative, the story really begins one night
                 when one of our sitters let her boyfriend come over to visit while she
                 was taking care of me and Carol.

                 I was six years old and Carol was eleven.  Our sitter that night, Susan,
                 was about 19 years old and was kind of funny-looking, I thought.  Although
                 she was skinny everywhere else, she had a huge chest, which she emphasized
                 with tight sweaters and tight jeans.  I was too young to be affected in
                 any sexual way then, but I realize now she projected a sluttish image.
                 In retrospect, I'm surprised my parents let her sit for us.  Maybe she
                 charged less than other sitters.  She sat for me and Carol several times,
                 and was always nice enough, letting us watch R-rated movies with her on
                 cable TV and making us big bowls of popcorn.

                 On this fateful night, however, our folks were going to a racetrack
                 across the state line, and were staying overnight.  Susan tried to
                 rush us off to bed early, but we insisted on staying up to see a
                 scary movie.  About 11, the doorbell rang and Susan swore us to
                 secrecy before letting her boyfriend in.  He was obviously annoyed
                 at seeing us there, and made enough rude comments that we scurried up
                 to bed as soon as the movie was over.  We could hear the music from my
                 folks' stereo begin to play pretty loud.  Susan tucked us into bed
                 perfunctorily and hurried back to the family room.

                 I was ready to go to sleep, and was a little worried about the dreams
                 I might have as a result of the horror movie we had just seen.  But
                 Carol was not ready.

                 "Let's go spy on Susan," she whispered from the bottom bunk.  "I bet
                 they're making out."

                 I agreed readily and we quietly opened the door to my room and crept
                 down the hall.

                 We really didn't have to be quiet, because the music coming from the
                 family room was very loud.  As we peeked around the corner, we both
                 at first thought the room was empty.  But then we spotten Susan and her
                 boyfriend writhing on the floor.  Clothes were all over the room.
                 Susan's sweater was lying by the fireplace and her boyfriend was down
                 to his boxer shorts.  They were locked in a total-bodylock embrace
                 on the carpet in front of the couch.  Carol and I had front-row seats!

                 "See?" she whispered.  "I told you they'd be making out!"

                 Making ourselves comfortable, we stretched out on our bellies in the hall,
                 beyond the faint light projected by the single lamp that was still shining
                 at its lowest setting.  Spying on our sitter was just the sort of trick
                 Carol and I enjoyed best.

                 Back in the family room, Susan's boyfriend had managed to disengage the
                 industrial-strength fasteners on her bra.  As we watched, he tossed it
                 back toward the couch and lowered his head to her chest.  With his mouth
                 removed from hers, we quickly understood why the stereo was playing so
                 loudly -- Susan was moaning and groaning and breathlessly telling him
                 how good he was making her feel.

                 "God, Terry, I'm burning up.  Suck my nipples!  Run your tongue all over
                 my boobs.  Bite my nips!"  Her boyfriend tried to follow her instructions,
                 but it was clear he would have had to have help to do it all.

                 Carol leaned over to me.  "Look at his shorts," she whispered.

                 I had been paying attention to the heaving mounds projecting from the
                 chest of my babysitter, glistening in the lamplight with her boyfriend's
                 saliva.  Now I looked where my cousin indicated and saw the beefy end of
                 his prick sticking out the opening in the front of his boxers.

                 "This is going to be neat!" said Carol.

                 Susan's muttering and groaning was getting louder, and now I could see
                 that her boyfriend had his hand down the front of her panties and was
                 moving his arm in a rhythmic motion.  His hips had also adopted a rhythm
                 of their own, as he rubbed the head of his cock against the outside of
                 her thigh.  Suddenly he stood up and spoke.

                 "I've got to fuck you now, before your hot talk and sexy bod make me
                 cum on the carpet."

                 As he yanked down his shorts, Susan squirmed out of her underpants too.
                 I didn't know where to look.  His throbbing prick looked huge to me
                 (though now I realize its size was probably pretty ordinary).  The
                 patch of hair at the bottom of Susan's belly was not much to see,
                 but I stared nonetheless.

                 As soon as she tossed her filmy panties aside, Susan spread her legs
                 and put both hands in her crotch.  "Jeez, Terry!" she said.  "You look
                 so hot standing there showing me your big dick!  Let's suck each other
                 first and then you can fuck me.  That way you don't have to wear a rubber
                 for your first cum."

                 Beside me, Carol moved into a sitting position. We watched the action in
                 the den.  When she noticed me looking at her, she gave me a big grin .
                 When Carol turned her attention back to the family room, so did I.

                 Terry was lowering his head between our sitter's outstretched thighs as
                 his rigid prick descended toward her waiting lips.  Susan's moaning and
                 groaning was muffled once more as she slurped up her boyfriend's stiff
                 six inches.  In fact, there wasn't much to see, with the two teenagers'
                 heads buried in each other's crotches.  The wet sounds of their sucking
                 could barely be heard over the booming stereo.
                 Then the sound effects started again in the family room.
                 "Yes!  Suck on my clit like that!  I'm gonna get my cum!  Bite my lips!
                 Stick your tongue all the way inside of me!  Ungh!  Ohh!  Arrrrr...."
                 Susan babbled away as she humped her pelvis against her boyfriend's
                 swiveling face.  Unnoticed, his slimy prick slithered across her face
                 and stabbed at her hair.  With legs thrown wide, Susan wrenched her
                 head backwards against the carpet and grunted repeatedly.  If she
                 hadn't kept babbling about good it felt, I would have thought her
                 boyfriend was torturing her.

                 In the dim light, Terry raised his head from Susan's crotch and turned
                 to kneel with his legs on either side of her head.  Levering his dick
                 downward, he guided it into her panting mouth and began pistoning it
                 deep into her throat.  Susan began breathing noisily through her nose
                 as she sucked and slurped his throbbing rod.  I noticed she also had
                 both hands busily working at the juncture of her thighs.

                 In only a few moments, Terry grabbed the back of her head and started
                 pulling her mouth all the way onto his cock.  That was apparently too
                 much for Susan, but her boyfriend was oblivious to her distress.  As
                 she tried to push him away, he moved his hips rapidly, only releasing
                 her head when he threw back his own to bay his orgasm.

                 Susan spit the slab of meat out of her mouth so she could breathe, but
                 reached up to stroke the repeated squirts of juice out of his cock and
                 all over her face.  Her other hand returned to her own love-nest,
                 restoring the rhythm of her hips as she worked her lover's still-rigid
                 cock above her glazed eyes.

                 Suddenly, Carol leaned over and whispered to me, "Let's go back to
                 the bedroom."

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