When we got home, he blurted out that he was fucking starving and asked if I was down for a sandwich. I said hell yeah right away, obviously—Diego was killer at that shit.
He went all out and cooked the burgers in the skillet, no oil. The menu was two loaded ones: beef, eggs, cheese, and salad, and just the smell of him cooking had me starving.
We hung out in the kitchen, bullshitting and laughing at stupid stuff while he cooked. After we ate, we said goodbye in the hallway. I wanted to stay longer. I wanted to crash on the couch, keep talking shit or do whatever he wanted, but I had zero excuse to stick around. So I mumbled an awkward-ass “good night” and dragged myself to my room feeling like shit.
I knew nothing had gone down—it wasn’t a “date.” He was just being cool. After all, I was his cousin. And worse, the bratty little cousin.
I felt like a total fucking idiot. The worst part was I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stay close to him a little longer, even if it was just breathing the same air. If it were my sister in my place, she’d know exactly what to say to stretch the moment. Me? Totally awkward, no game, just stuttering in my head.
I went to my room, shut the door quiet, and flopped on the bed. My heart was hammering like a samba drumline at the height of the parade. My whole body was hot, restless, throbbing. Every time I closed my eyes I saw his face. And that thing I always said—that when I touched myself there was no face, just the feeling? Yeah… for the first time it had a face. It was him. It was Diego.
Without even thinking, my hand slid down on its own, straight between my thighs. I grabbed my pussy hard over my panties, almost hurting. A low moan slipped out while my head spun with one thought: run back down the hall, bang on his door and beg, “Fuck me, boy… kiss me already.”
I just started imagining…
I pictured knocking soft on his bedroom door. Him opening it slow, with that lazy smile and messy hair, looking at me like he already knew. “Come in,” he’d say low, taking my hand and pulling me inside. At first there was nothing sexual about it. Just pure want to be close. I wanted to sit on the edge of his bed, talk quiet in the dark, laugh at dumb shit, feel the heat of his body next to mine, maybe let my shoulder brush his on accident. That was it.
But the deeper I sank into the fantasy, the more my body sold me out. My heart raced, my breathing got shallow, this sweet heat spread through my belly and dropped like fire between my legs. My pussy started pulsing, swollen, begging. The need to touch myself got unbearable.
I slid my hand down slow, almost shaking, still seeing him pull me into the room. When my fingers hit my panties they were already soaked. I pushed the wet fabric aside and started rubbing slow at first, circling my swollen clit with my fingertips while I pictured him sitting right beside me, staring at me with those dark eyes.
It was nothing like the other times. Hotter. More desperate. More him. My middle finger slid right into my wet pussy, then another, and I started fucking myself slow, imagining they were his fingers. My other hand went up to my tit, squeezing my nipple through my shirt. I rocked against my own hand, biting my bottom lip, letting the fantasy run.
— Diego…
In my head he leaned in closer. I could smell him, feel his breath hot on my neck. “You’re this soaked because of me?” he whispered low right by my ear. I moaned into the pillow and picked up the pace, shoving my fingers deeper, faster, thumb grinding my swollen clit nonstop.
The pleasure rose like a fucking wave. My whole body locked up, thighs shaking out of control, stomach clenching. The orgasm hit hard, exploding from deep in my pussy and shooting electric through every inch of me. I bit the pillow with everything I had to muffle the loud, long moan that tore out of my throat.
My body jerked hard—legs clamping around my hand, pussy pulsing wild, squeezing my fingers as I came. Hot cream soaked my palm and ran down my ass. Wave after wave kept hitting, stronger and stronger. I couldn’t stop moving my fingers, riding it out until it almost hurt, body shaking, eyes rolling back, head empty except for his name.
When it finally started to fade I was still trembling, panting, completely wrecked. Chest heaving, sweat running down my forehead and between my tits, a dumb, filthy little smile stuck on my face. My pussy kept giving little aftershocks, way too sensitive.
Even then it took me forever to fall asleep. I just lay there replaying it, wanting him—now, in a whole different way.