It's been five years since I last saw Dex, my sexy cousin. Tall, handsome, light-skinned, and hung like a dream...yes, I've seen it, and it's perfection from every angle. I missed the wild fun we'd sneak away for during his yearly Christmas visits to Grandma's house. Those stolen moments in the old barn, our bodies colliding uninterrupted, where my sex life hit its peak. No one's ever made me explode like he did.
That was back when I was 16 and he was 19. Now, at 21, I wondered if he still craved that rush—or if he'd outgrown our secret games. "It feels like a pussy," he'd always groan during our hookups, yet he'd swear he was straight. Deep down, I knew better: that boy was as gay as they come.
This Christmas was different. Grandma's 70th birthday bash at the manor house doubled as her will-reading, with inheritance for everyone in our old-money family. Tension hung in the air like holiday fog.
"Robbie, grab your bags!" Mom called. I was packed and bolting downstairs to the car for the five-hour drive to the countryside.
We arrived late afternoon—the last to show. My eyes scanned the crowd for Dex. There he was, sexier than ever: broader, stronger, even taller, his chiseled jaw sharper under the winter light. I gasped, my dick twitching against my tight briefs....prepped for chaos like this.
Our eyes locked, then he looked away. Beside him stood a stranger: a woman cradling a toddler. My stomach dropped. Further snooping confirmed it.....Dex had been married for two years. That was his kid. Heart sinking, I nearly spiraled into depression, but I talked myself down. He was family, after all. Just a teenage fling.
That night, we all gathered, swapping stories. Dex chatted easily, explaining his long absences. I shot heated glances, begging for his attention, but he ignored me. Fine. I'd let it go.
The avoidance dragged on.....day two, three, a full week. Silent stares across the room, electric but untouched.
New Year's Eve arrived, and tradition called: the whole family camping out in the manor's grassy park, toasting with drinks, gifts, and chatter under the stars. Five branches of the clan, laughing as midnight loomed.
I skipped it, craving solitude after two weeks without privacy. Holed up in my room, I finally jerked off, hand flying in desperate rhythm. Then—voices from the hallway. I froze, creeping to the door to eavesdrop.
It was Dex and his wife, Patricia, their toddler's wails cutting through the argument like knives.
"Come on, babe, I didn't mean it," Dex pleaded.
"But you did!" she snapped. "You keep humiliating me, disrespecting me. Once that inheritance hits? I'm divorcing your ass."
"I won't sign shit," he growled.
"Then you don't know your wife." Her heels clacked furiously down the hall.
"Fuck off, stupid bitch!"
"Fuck you, Dex!"
Footsteps faded. I sighed, heavy with pity—and forbidden heat. If only he'd...
The door burst open. Dex filled the frame, eyes dark and dangerous, hand on the knob. How did he know I was here?
"Hello, Robbie," he purred, stepping in, locking the door with a sharp clink. Sealed. Yes finally!
I flushed, pulse thundering. I'd prayed for this....now it crashed over me like a wave. My mouth watered; through his gray sweats, his cock strained, thick and insistent. Heart slamming, I nearly came undone.
"How'd you know?" I whispered, voice thick.
"I just knew." He closed in, a predator's growl. "Heard that sigh. You've been starving for this dick all week, haven't you?"
I backed toward the bed, denying it weakly...
"I haven't"....but my raging hard-on betrayed me.
"Your cock says otherwise." In a blur, he scooped me up, my legs wrapping his waist, his huge hands gripping my ass like it was his. Our mouths crashed..hot, feral, tasting of whiskey and raw need. Tongues tangled, saliva strings pulling us back, deeper.
He eased me onto the bed, but I clung tight, legs vise-like around him. He bent, yielding, the kiss turning savage.
"Can I taste you?" he rasped. I moaned yes, releasing just enough. He dove in: lips on my nipples, trailing fire down my stomach, waist, throbbing dick. One massive hand pinned my thighs together, hoisting them high, exposing me. His tongue teased my hole....wet, insistent licks that made me writhe, fingers fisting his hair. "Stop... oh fuck, please..."
He didn't. Instead, a sharp spit-slick thrust—his full nine inches buried deep. I gasped, pain blooming into bliss as he drove harder, stretching me wide.
"Wait..." But he shushed me, pounding relentless, hips snapping with brutal rhythm.
"But what about your wife?" I panted, even as ecstasy clawed me.
"Don't worry about her. Feel this dick, boy." His voice was gravel, eyes locked on mine, owning me.
"FUCK!" We shattered together—hot semen flooding, bodies convulsing in sync. He collapsed beside me, breaths ragged, sweat-slick skin cooling.
"I missed you," he murmured. "Happy New Year."
Fireworks exploded outside, painting the window in bursts of light.
"Happy New Year," I whispered back, tangled in his arms, the world remade.