Cousins that Ski Together

Brunette

Author’s Note: This is a fun little story about cousins reuniting for a ski trip to rekindle their childhood friendship. As a disclaimer, the actual skiing in this story is minimal. It’s mostly about the sex. And hot tubs. And maybe some hot tub sex.

It is a work of fiction. The characters are fictitious and certainly not intended to represent any living person. All characters are eighteen or older.

Warning: This story depicts cousin incest in a sexually graphic manner.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story.

I hope you enjoy it!

Cousins that Ski Together

Eugene jumped to the inside of the city sidewalk to dodge the splash of water from a passing car. It was a frigid night, and the unexpected downpour thoroughly soaked his jacket. Unfamiliar with the dark Vancouver streets, he checked his smartphone again for the address – his cousin Charlie’s apartment was just around the corner. He gave her a ring to let her know he was nearby, and she immediately picked up.

“Hey cousin, I’m walking up to your place.”

In her unmistakably Quebecoise accent, Eugene could hear her exclaim, “Oh perfect, I’ll be right down!”

Her voice excited Eugene. They had not seen each other since their last summer years at Grandma’s in Vermont, and that twelve ago. He was twenty-eight now, and she a year younger, and to hear her adult yet familiar voice caused his heart to pound in anticipation.

Since that summer, and since Grandma passed away, they never had a good reason to hang out with each other. His family had lived in Portland, Oregon, while hers lived in Montreal. Their parents weren’t particularly close either, so Grandma was really the last living connection between them. Vermont, and summer days spent there with Charlie faded as only a pleasant memory, and yes, they kept in touch, first through late night instant messages, MSN messenger during their high school years, then Facebook, and Instagram. But as they grew older, they each developed a life separate and more foreign to the other, and these late-into-the-night messages sharing secrets, jokes, and wishes for the future dwindled into quick and far between ‘updates’.

When he discovered she had moved to Vancouver, he took a renewed interest in rekindling their childhood friendship, knowing that Vancouver was only up the I-5 and a short hop across the border from Portland. Only a few hours’ drive away. So, he called her up, and enthusiastically, she invited him up to do some rekindling.

He didn’t wait long for her appear in the lamp-lit street. She turned and when she saw him, gave a short hop in excitement and waved.

“You’ve made it,” she cried. “Come on inside, it must be very freezing out there!”

She embraced him tightly and kissed him on both cheeks and then stood back to take a good look at him with a wide smile on her face.

“You’ve changed so much,” she said. Her accent, he had always found charming. It sounded lightly European and cheerfully quaint.

He took the time to look her up and down too, and she was breathtaking and wore a well-tailored business suit.

“And you look stunning Charlie… and very professional in that suit.”

She scoffed mildly at his comment and yanked his duffel bag from him. He resisted, but she spoke sternly, “You are my guest here, Eugene.”

He shrugged and followed her up the stairs.

She was tall, and though she wasn’t what he would call thin, her curves perfectly accentuated her body. She had an elegance about her yet lacked any indication of frailty. The suit accentuated her curves and displayed her ample cleavage tastefully (and tactically).

As he walked up the narrow stairs behind her, he could see her panty line press through her pants in a heart-shaped outline, shifting as her hips swayed from side to side. He blushed thinking of his cousin in this away and averted his eyes. Truth be told, he had thought of her as attractive in their adolescence, and couldn’t deny that in those days, in his dirtiest mental moments of weakness, he had imagined erotic adventures with her, even if, back then, she was a chubbier girl, adorn with frizzy hair and thick glasses. Now that she had undergone her transition to an absolute swan, and her girlish roundness had made way for a curvy feminine goddess, these uncomfortable thoughts, without any anticipation, returned to haunt him. He braced himself for more.

“I can’t tell you how happy I am that you took the time to visit me, Eugene. I am so ready to do this ski weekend together,” she said, adding, “I know the rain looks awful, but trust me, if it’s raining down here, you can be sure that the snow is coming down hard in Whistler. You really couldn’t have come at a more perfect time. In fact, it looks like they are getting at least twenty centimetres tonight, and then another twenty tomorrow. Nothing but beautiful, soft power.”

“And of course, Après and hot tubs,” Eugene added.

“Of course. If there isn’t a hot tub, we are rebooking. I’m not skiing without a hot tub waiting for me at the end of the day. But tonight, urfa escort lets drink wine and eat pasta.”

“Looks like we’re on the same page, cousin. I’m really looking forward to hanging out.”

In the apartment Charlie tossed Eugene’s duffel bag onto the couch, and without breaking stride, went to the kitchen to open a bottle of Bordeaux and poured two glasses. She handed up to him and said, “cheers to family reunions!”

“To family reunions, may they keep happening,” Eugene responded and clinked her glass.

After the glass, Charlie put on a pot to boil water for the pasta and told him, “why don’t you get out of your wet clothes and shower? I’ll make something quick for us to eat.”

“That’s a good idea,” Eugene agreed. The cold rain Vancouver rain had made quick work of soaking his clothes in his short walk from his car, and the nearly seven hours of driving had dogged him.

As he entered the bathroom, a red-laced panty hanging from the towel rack greeted him. He felt himself getting hard from the sight of it, and blushed knowing that they belonged to his cousin. He closed his eyes, he whispered loudly to himself, almost as a prayer, she’s your cousin, Eugene. Put your dirty mind elsewhere.

After the shower, he realized he forgot to pull out a clean shirt from his duffel bag, so he walked back into the living room, shirtless. Charlie whistled facetiously at him and in a flirty tone, she exclaimed, “wow, Eugene, you’ve got some muscles!”

He smiled bashfully, and replied, “yeah, I’ve had a lot of time to hit the gym lately.”

“I don’t mind that at all,” Charlie exclaimed, drawing a curious look from Eugene. He noticed her eyeing his abs, bit-lipped and with a fire in her eyes. When she noticed him noticing her, she winked at him and went back to attending the pot. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of that rather brazen interaction, but his heart pounded.

He pulled a t-shirt on and poured another glass of Bordeaux for both himself and Charlie. He tried to help with dinner, but she slapped his hand away, so he went to sit on the couch in the living room. Over the rim of his wine, he peeked secretly at her body, and mostly, her lush ass.

With her back still turned to him in the kitchen, she remarked, “don’t take this the wrong way, but I remember you were so lanky and pimply. And so, so innocent.”

“And naïve,” added Eugene.

“But you’ve really grown into a man,” Charlie said.

Eugene laughed. “Sure. Definitely doesn’t feel like it though.”

Charlie smiled at him and said, “hey, wanna help me out now? The carbonara is almost done and I’m still in my work clothes. Can you take over while I get into something more comfortable?”

Eugene nodded and jumped up from the couch. “Sure, I’ll take over.”

In his mind he secretly fantasized what she meant by ‘getting into something more comfortable’, picturing her appearing from the bedroom, her breasts pouring out of a negligee.

He shook the image from his mind. “Um, where do I find the plates and stuff?”

She handed him the stirring spoon and replied, “the plates are in those cabinets above the stove. “The silverware is here.” She slid open the silverware drawer.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon,” she said and walked into her bedroom. Eugene stirred the carbonara. It made a satisfying, sticky cheesy sound as he moved the spoon through the pasta, and the aroma itself was creamy and filling. Glancing over his shoulder, he noticed Charlie had left her bedroom door ajar, and didn’t give it much thought, but did a double take when he saw Charlie, framed perfectly in the shadows of the dark room, lit dimly by the glow of the living room lamp. He caught her in the act of unbuttoning, then sliding her shirt off her shoulders, revealing her bare skin, and her bra strap taut against her shoulders.

He quickly turned back to the pasta, and stirred more frantically, closing his eyes even, to block her out of his senses. But he could not resist the temptation. He stole another, and watched as she shook her curly blonde hair loose, whipped the belt off her pants, and shimmy her pants down her legs, bending over slightly, to present an almost-see-through cotton panties that converged around her heart-shaped ass, cupping her pussy in a mound between her thighs. He shifted his now pulsing erection in his leg, hoping that she wouldn’t notice it when she returned.

“How’s it going out there?” she asked.

His voice cracked when he replied, “just about ready to eat. Great job on the carbonara. It smells incredible!”

Charlie entered the living room, to Eugene’s great relief, dressed in sweatpants and a loose white t-shirt. She looked no less gorgeous, especially with her long hair loose, but significantly less seductive than in a negligee. She smiled at him, took a sip of her wine, and took a seat at the table. “Well, Bon Appetit ,” she said. Eugene relaxed. His erection subsided as he took his seat.

They ate and drank wine and chatted vigorously about the lives they missed – about their careers, family urfa escort bayan drama, and all the topics of conversation and normal cousins would share. But as the carbonara disappeared, and the wine continued to fill their glasses, and the small talk ran dry, the conversation naturally turned to more personally intimate details. Eugene asked Charlie, much more directly than to his own liking, “what’s the boyfriend situation like?”

“Well, I broke up with Michel perhaps two years ago? An unpleasant end to a mundane relationship. Well unpleasant for him. Absolutely liberating for me. Good riddance, if I am honest.”

She took a sip of wine and continued, “since then, I decided to focus on ‘self-care’.”

“Good for you. What sort of ‘self-care’ things have you been up to?”

Without missing a beat, Charlie replied, “fucking hot guys whenever I want.”

Eugene snorted out his wine, eliciting a delighted giggle from Charlie. “Michel didn’t like to have sex as much as me and I resented him for it. I need to make love like a turtle needs a rock to sun on,” she said.

Eugene wasn’t sure how to respond, except express utter shock at her unexpected openness. After he collected himself, he narrowed his eyes at her and responded, “are you really the same Charlie I knew growing up? Because that Charlie spent more time thinking about Narnia than boys.”

Charlie laughed. “Yep. Same ol’ nerdy Charlie. Don’t be intimidated Eugene. That’s still a big part of her. There’s always room in my heart for Narnia. The only difference is this version of Charlie works at an investment bank. Is it so odd to include more adult hobbies?”

The conversation had gone to a place that Eugene had never considered. Only a couple hours ago, he was sure to meet the same soft-around-the-edges shy French-Canadian girl he hung out with in Vermont. Eugene shook his head and lamented in jest, “oh the loss of childhood innocence. How shocking to be faced with it so abruptly.”

Charlie shrugged. She mused, “well, that’s the way it goes. The things you enjoy changes quite often. Why would I deny myself pleasures? Why, even if, or especially if, those pleasures are of a sexual nature? Anyways, why don’t you tell me something more about yourself. How’s life with your girlfriend? Katie?”

“Kylie,” he corrected.

“Kylie,” Charlie repeated. “So?”

“She’s doing fine. We’re on a break now, I think.”

A glint of intrigue entered Charlie’s eyes. She rubbed her hands excitedly. “Ooh, on a break. That means there’s drama. What is going on with Kylie, indeed. So, tell me, what happened? You two looked like you were so madly in love, I was half-expecting a wedding invitation. Didn’t you go on a backpacking trip through Spain recently?”

Eugene nodded. “Yep. We did. She loved it so much, she stayed in Spain. Picked up a job in Valencia.”

An awkward look came across Charlie’s face. “I see… and perhaps picked up a new boyfriend too…”

She swilled her wine in circles on the table. “I’m only joking, Eugene. Is the relationship worth saving for you?”

“Nah. I’m over it,” he replied.

“Deader than disco?”

“Deader than disco.”

Charlie placed a hand on his knee and said, “you should ask her for some Spanish boots.”

Eugene laughed, confused. “Why Spanish boots?”

Charlie’s mouth hung open in surprise. “Come on, Eugene! Bob Dylan?”

He gave her a blank stare.

“Still don’t know what that means.”

Charlie clicked her tongue and remarked, “Boots of Spanish Leather is one of the most beautifully heartbreaking songs ever written! Let me play it for you, and maybe it’ll add some perspective to your relationship with Katie.”

“Kylie.”

“Whatever. Here, listen to this.”

Charlie took out her phone and played the song on her Bluetooth speaker system. They sat in silence while they enjoyed the sound of Bob Dylan’s raspy voice wailing a wistful tune.

The rain began to patter hard on the living room windowpanes, streaking the window like streams of teardrops, refracting the yellow streetlamp lights to give the room a smoldering candle-like glow. The mood was dreamy. Effervescent. Eugene and Charlie locked eyes and for a silent pause gazed deeply into each other’s eyes, before both bursting simultaneously into laughter.

“Yep, this song is the story of my life,” Eugene said. “So sad. I feel pathetic.”

Charlie scoffed. “No, not sad! Not pathetic! Hopeful. You see, they are two different people. She wants to live free as a bird. That’s her life, and rather than refuse her that, he only requests Spanish boots in return. He’s a mature man. He realizes the love was never meant to be. Doesn’t that make it a happy ending? Isn’t that such a positive message?”

Eugene responded, “except that I never got my Spanish boots.”

Charlie smiled. “Maybe I’m your Spanish boots.”

Eugene blushed and stammered. “What do you mean?”

“Well if you didn’t break up with her, would you have come to visit me? Would we have this weekend together?”

He pondered escort urfa the question. Kylie hated skiing. She had zero desire to visit Vancouver. She had always been in charge of their travel plans. Charlie might have been on to something. He might not have seen the opportunity to come to Vancouver had they not gone on this break. “Yeah, maybe you’re right, Cuz.”

Charlie raised her glass to her lips. “Of course, I’m right. Here’s to being single,” she cheered.

They continued drinking in silence. The alcohol soothed him with warmth, and the pattering rain outside drew him closer to sleep. He gazed at his cousin in that moment, as the alcohol swirled in his mind, and she returned the gaze. Her eyes were olive green, he noticed. He wondered if he had ever noticed that before about her. Then he noticed her nose, how it curved slightly upwards. Her soft lips. How lush they were, and wet with red wine, and how they were perpetually shaped into an open smile, a yearning sort of smile. Her honey-blonde hair fell boundless and freely across her face.

Her eyes studied him too, and he welcomed them. He drew into them. He felt himself moving in closer. She moved in closer too. Neither flinching, both without smiles now, breathing nervously. Then she blinked, and, to break the reckless gravity between them, brought the Bordeaux up to her lips.

After what was surely only a few seconds, but felt to be an eternity, Eugene shook off the trance and swallowed his wine. Though his heart pounded, he feigned a yawn and glanced at his watch. “Well, Charlie. It’s getting late, and I’m very tired. I’ll take care of the dishes and then, I guess I’ll crash.”

He stood and took the plates with him to the kitchen.

As he washed them, Charlie stood in the kitchen doorway. She inhaled deeply and arched her back in a stretching yawn. Her breasts tightened against her t-shirt, showing her hard nipples as indents in the shirt. “Let’s get a good night sleep. Tomorrow we have a bit of a long drive. She hugged him and kissed him on the cheek and whispered, “after this weekend, you’ll have forgotten all about Kylie.”

His skin prickled at the warm breath against his skin as she spoke. Whatever could she mean by that?

The next day, they woke long before the sun came up and packed up for their long weekend adventure at the Whistler-Blackcomb ski-resort, heading out in Charlie’s Volkswagen.

She was right about the rain. As they drove along the verdant British-Columbian coast, it turned into a mad flurry of fat snowflakes. The mountains loomed, jutting up into high fog, and appeared fleetingly as majestic peaks in the cloud breaks.

By the time they arrived, the sky had turned pale, and weekend powderhounds had queued at the lifts before they had started turning.

The hotel which Charlie had booked was a quant ski-in-ski-out lodge located right on the slopes just above the Whistler village lifts. When they entered the hotel room, greeting them was a single queen bed.

“Oh… I specifically asked for two twins. We can go ask to change the room,” Charlie said. Eugene shrugged. “Only if it matters to you. I’m fine sleeping on the couch.”

Charlie replied, “up to you Eugene. We can also share the bed too. Just like summer at Grandma’s.”

After leaving their bags, they put on their ski boots, and took their skis over their shoulders and made their way to the lift line.

“The powder is deep and fresh today, Eugene. It couldn’t be more perfect.”

“Well, what are we waiting for, Charlie? Show me your favorite runs!”

“You got it, Cuz. Let’s hit up the symphony bowl on Whistler first, and then, of course I have to show you Spanky’s ladder.”

“That sounds incredibly naughty.”

“You know it! But only if you’re good with double blacks.”

“I’m good with anything. Show me the gnarliest stuff.”

“Hehe, ok, let’s see what you got, Eugene.”

She clapped her ski poles together, then clapped her ski pole against his and skied off to a lift that rose quickly into the fog.

They skied all day until the last chair, and it was dark already when they skied into their hotel. They stopped at the bar for a quick celebratory hot toddy, then went up to the room to change for the hot tub. The snowflakes fell in lazy, but cheerful waltz outside.

Charlie remarked, “my legs are killing me right now, so the jacuzzi is a no-brainer. Everyone else should be at après-ski at this point, so we shouldn’t have too much company. How are your legs?

“They’re feeling pretty good actually. I could go for some more of that off-piste stuff tomorrow, if you can hack it, Charlie!”

She sneered playfully at the challenged. “Ok, no problem. I’ll turn the heat up tomorrow.”

They each grabbed a towel and their swimwear. There were locker rooms by the pool area, so they would change there.

Eugene got into the hot tub first while Charlie was still in the locker room. The turquoise-lighted hot tub sat nestled in a bank of snow surrounded by dark spruce trees, the wafting steam rising to meet the falling snow. Charlie correctly predicted that most others would be out and about by this time. Only an elderly couple sat in the babbling water. The couple smiled warmly as he joined, but the trio then sat in awkward silence. Eugene wasn’t very good at small talk with strangers.

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