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MY SECOND COUSIN

By Richard H. Williams

When I was eleven years old, I was at a party for youngsters where we were playing “spin-the-bottle.” My sociologically second cousin, Andrea, was there and she too was eleven years of age. She was my second cousin because we shared a great grandparent, but we were not first cousins or siblings. I suspect this implies that if we were to procreate, our offspring would not have some weird defect. Strange stories are told about inbreeding in the American South, but most of them are probably fictional.

Andrea was a little beauty. She was getting excited as the bottle was spun, her cheeks pink. When her turn came she gave the bottle a vigorous spin and when it came to a stop it was pointing at me.

This pretty girl cried out in joy: “Just what I was hoping for, Dick Higgins.”

Most of the kids were executing their kisses right there in the room where the bottle was spun.

But Andrea said, “Follow me,” and she led me down the hall. We entered the master bedroom. She kissed me and said, “I like that,” Then she kissed me again, and she ran her pink tongue along my sensitive lips. Although I grew excited, Andrea left the room, giggling, saying, “See you later, alligator,” and she joined the other children. When the party ended I had a rather sad feeling.

Over the years I didn’t see Andrea too often but we did keep in touch. Thirty years after the children’s party the two of us met again at a cocktail party. Both of us were 41 years of age and married. Her husband, Bill, was there. Andrea had blossomed into a lovely woman with a voluptuous body---perhaps hourglass in shape with measurements 37-24-37. My wife, Alma, and I were sitting on the couch when Andrea and her husband, made their entrance. She came over to the couch at once and kissed Alma on the cheek. She took me by the hand, pulling me off the couch, and we started down the hall.

Andrea looked back over her shoulder and said to Alma, “We haven’t seen each other in ages, and need to catch up on the family news.”

We popped into the master bedroom. Andrea kissed me and then stripped off my cuff links, tie clasp, and necktie. She removed my jacket and began unbuttoning my shirt.

I said, “We have to tone it down a bit here. Anyone could walk into this room.”

“Not over my dead body,” she replied, and she locked and bolted the door.

Andrea removed all of my clothing. She said, “How would you like to play an interesting game, Dickie?”

I said, “That sound good to me. Tell me about it.”

And she said, “I will show you rather than tell you.” She pulled a bottle out of her handbag and said, “Our game is ‘Spin-The-Bottle’ for adults. I call this game ‘Adultery.’”

“But with only two playing Adultery the bottle might not point to anyone.”

“Andrea said, “That is no problem. If I spin it and it ends up closer to you then I have hit the target. But if it points closer to me, then we reverse roles and you become the spinner and I become the spinee.”

I said, “Well, suppose I spin it and it points at you. What am I allowed to do”?

Andrea said, “You can simply give me a kiss. Or you can French kiss me. Or you can apply other types of stimulation to me. Use your imagination!”

“Is the very sky, the limit?” I said.

“No,” replied the lovely woman. “It is necessary to put some boundary conditions in place. There must be no necrophilia, bestiality, or pedophilia.”

I said, “Well, there are no dead bodies, animals, or young children in this room.”

“True,” said Andrea, “But these guidelines may be applicable in other settings. Also, golden showers, rape, bondage, masochism, sadism, and violence are not permitted. More generally, no Marquis de Sade types of stimulation.”

I said, “Now you are cutting out much of the fun.”

Andrea said, “Before we begin, hold me and kiss me. The stuff we did at the party when we were eleven years old was minor league. Now we are in the big leagues.”

They tossed a coin and Andrea called “heads” and “heads” turned up. She smiled at me and gave the bottle a good spin. When it stopped it was pointing right back at her. So I spun the bottle and it was closer to Andrea.

“How sweet it is,” I said. “And away we go. I want you to lie on the bed, face down.”

Andrea said, “OK.” Soon she felt me licking the bottoms of her feet and then sucking on her toes.

The beautiful woman spun the bottle and it pointed to the intended target. She sat on my belly and dragged her nipples across his mouth.

Needless to say this pleasant game gained momentum and culminated in a joyous mutual orgasm. We cleaned up, kissed, and agreed on a time and place for further lovemaking. Andrea unfastened the lock and the bolt and strode down the hall. A muted trumpet could be heard, playing a musical standard, “Body and Soul,” and Alma and Bill were dancing, pressed tightly against each other, their eyes closed.

Thinking quickly I said, “Andrea and I have been tracing our family tree. We intend to conduct a formal genealogical computer search.

(C)opyright 2008 Richard H. Williams All Rights Reserved

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