by Seth King
I only saw his dick once before the photo disappeared, and yet it made me come two different times. That’s right, I jacked off immediately, and then an hour later I was still so turned on, I did it again. And would you like to know my response, after the first jackoff? I opened up my legs, took a picture of my hole, and sent the message. But by now, I’m trying to calm down and stop being such a horn-dog. In fact, I’ve got something to research.
I go to Google and enter the following: is it normal to be attracted to a family member
I cringe as the results load. Then I click on the first article. Real Life “Kissing Cousins:” This Surrey Woman Fell in Love With Her Second Cousin Once Removed!
The story is about a woman who fell for a distant family member at a family reunion. (Apparently “kissing cousins” is a term for a family member you don’t know, and only kiss on the cheek whenever you see them, which I’ve never heard about. Too bad there’s no term for former stepparents…)
Many people find themselves sexually attracted to distant relations, the author writes. Most Western societies frown upon this behavior today, but as recently as a century ago, marriages between cousins were accepted, and even encouraged. Several European royal houses experienced generations of genetic issues due to heavy inbreeding. Royal watchers applauded the marriage of Prince Charles and Lady Diana Spencer for bringing “new blood” into the notoriously inbred British monarchy, when in fact Diana was actually Charles’ cousin through both of her parents. Diana was even born on a property owned by her cousin the Queen, and was essentially raised as a cousin of the royals. In fact, Diana first started fancying Charles when he was dating her older sister, Sarah…
I sit back and smile. Well, then. If getting with a distant relation was good enough for Charles and Diana, how could it not be good enough for me?
I’m looking through the next article about the soap opera royals when someone walks out onto the dock and drops a towel, making me freeze.
It’s him. I don’t even have to say his name to myself because I know who it is. I can kind of just sense when he’s around – this energy just explodes between us. (And that’s probably why I can sense him, too. My body knows what my libido won’t admit: this is dangerous.)
I look over. He’s gotten tan, too. His chest hair snakes up from his navel to the hollow between his chest, and his eyes are shining against his darker skin.
“Mind if I go for a swim?” he asks, and I nod as casually as I can. Sending random pictures is one thing – I haven’t quite figured out how to act around him in person yet. Then he does something shocking: he takes off his Speedo, walks to the edge of the dock, and dives in.
Holy shit.
His dick was just flopping inches away from my face – and it was better than I remember. Hairier, too. I’ve never hooked up with someone who didn’t man-scape – he only trims a little. And his balls are huge, as well. They look so full, too, after last night’s emptying session…
But why is he doing this? The dock is well out of view from the main house, and sure, the little kids go skinny dipping all the time, since we own the lake. But how would it look if someone came out and found Robert nude with his former stepson?
I watch him float around for a minute, his dick bobbing in and out of the clear water, then he dives down and exposes all of his ass to me. Or was it accidental? I don’t know, but I’ve never seen someone who didn’t shave their crack. And it was perfect…
This is also wrong on another level. I’m no longer with David, and I could do whatever I want, technically speaking. It wouldn’t be cheating, but he’s on this trip with me, so wouldn’t this be wrong in some sense? I mean, even though he’s the one who cheated…
“Hey,” he calls. “Help a brother out? Throw me my suit?”
Brother? More like stepfather, I think to myself. Then I throw him the Speedo, which he slides on in the water.
Finally he swims over and climbs out of the lake. First his head appears, and he’s staring right at me. Then his glistening chest, water dripping off his hair, and finally his fat package, barely contained by the Speedo. He climbs out and then plops down on his towel near me, his legs open as he lays out and soaks up the sunlight.
I look back. It’s off to one side, and I can see his hole underneath his balls. My heart is pounding in my ears. I can’t take much more of this.
“You’re hard,” he says with his eyes closed.
“What?”
“Your dick’s hard. Just something I noticed.”
I rearrange my legs. “Well, this is weird. Can you put on your suit again?”
He looks over at me. “Fine. Sorry, just got back from Ibiza, where guys getting naked together is totally normal. Sure thing.”
He slides his Speedo up further, not that it covers anything. Then he just smiles at me, laughs, and looks away.
“What?’
“Seems like you have quite the dramatic relationship with your boyfriend. Caught you two arguing on the lawn this morning.”
“We weren’t arguing. He wanted to go golfing, and I hate golfing,” I say. “And he’s not my boyfriend.”
“What? Why is he here, then?”
“It’s…complicated.”
“Relationships usually are. You can tell me, though. It’s not like there’s anything else to do here.”
“He cheated on me a month ago,” I finally sigh. “But he’s begging for ten million more chances, and…I don’t know. I kind of let him come here to see if there was anything worth salvaging.”
“He cheated on you? But you’re better looking than him.”
My cock twitches. “That’s actually what he said. He said he was constantly insecure around me, and one night he was drunk at the club and the pressure just made him snap.”
“That’s bullshit. A cheater is just a cheater, period. Do you still love him?”
“I…don’t know. That’s what I came here to find out. I suppose not.”
“So he’s thinking this is where he’ll romantically get you back, and meanwhile you’re washing your hands of him…”
“I mean, it’s not that simple. We have over a year of history together. I can’t just throw that away. And having a hot hookup near me while I’m here isn’t bad, either.”
“But…I mean, you’re leading him on.”
“No I’m not. I’m just kind of pushing that off for as long as I can. I thought it would be easier. But it’s just making our breakup worse.”
“Can I ask how you found out he was…doing stuff?” he asks.
“I always knew. Our relationship was off from the start. I even went back on my Truvada halfway through, because I didn’t trust him. Truvada is-”
“The HIV preventative pill,” he laughs. “I know what Truvada is. I’m on it. I’m not that old.”
“Oh. Sorry. Anyway, I knew. And then we happened to be out at dinner with my mom, and I looked over and saw that he was texting the guy.”
“At dinner? With your mother?”
“He was just careless,” I shrug. “But the weird thing was, I wasn’t that devastated. I was almost relieved. But he begged and begged and begged for forgiveness, so…I let him come here.”
“You’re too nice, Eliot. I would’ve banished him the second he cheated.”
“Yeah, yeah. Did I mention again that he cheated on me? I’m not in the wrong, here.”
“Well I’m sorry. I’ve been cheated on. It felt like getting hit by a bus. You didn’t deserve that.”
“Oh, was it my mo-”
I catch myself.
“Sorry,” I say. “I’m not ready to talk about that yet.”
“What, your mother?” he asks. “We can talk about it. I have a very good relationship with her, you know. She was kinder to me than I ever deserved. We’re on great terms.”
“Now you are. And I’m sure those terms wouldn’t be so great if she knew you…”
“What?”
I look away, then back at him. “I mean, if
she knew…”
“If she knew what?” he asks, grabbing his cock in his Speedo, making my mouth go dry. “What do you think is happening here, Eliot?”
I stare directly at him. “I think you want to fuck me.”
He rubs the tip of it. His back arches a little. “Well. You’d be correct, then.”
“Yes. And it’s obviously…complicated.”
“You could say that,” he nods.
“Do you feel wrong about it, though?”
“I don’t know what I feel. Mostly erotic. How do you feel?”
“I don’t know. Same.”
“And what do you want to do about it?” he asks.
And then I turn and jump into the water.
When I come up for air, he’s laughing. It’s making his abs shine in the light, and I jump from my toes to my earlobes.
“What’s funny? God, I feel bad for even looking at you, even if it makes me smile. No, sorry, I won’t say that.”
“Oh, don’t be sorry.”
“Why?”
“Don’t you ever apologize for doing something that made you happy.”
My body feels light as air, even though I am floating in water. “Wow. That felt good.”
“What did?” he asks.
“You talking to me like that. David is always criticizing me, in his own little way. It’s nothing outright, he’ll just correct me or put me down or asking me whether I’m really going to wear those shoes with that shirt.”
He bites his lip. “Okay. Why the hell is he here?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, why the hell is he here? Why do you keep him around?”
“Because…because I’m afraid of what would happen if I turned him away.”
“I do think you’re afraid,” he says soon. “Not of that, though.”
“Of what, then?”
“Of allowing yourself to feel what you want to feel. So you stay comfortable, and instead feel nothing.”
“And how would you know?”
“Because I spent half my life like that,” he says plainly. “You don’t have to be in the closet to be suppressed, you know.”
A serious moment passes. Maybe too serious. Suddenly he turns and starts pulling one of the canoes off the railings where they’re kept, just above the water.
“What’re you doing?” I ask.
“Going canoeing,” he says as he turns. “I’m sick of us having to deal with all these people, all these distractions.”
“Oh, really? Who are you going with, then?”
“With you, silly,” he says before licking his top lip and flashing those eyes at me. “Come on. Get in.”
Robert Glazer
I know I probably shouldn’t be doing this. Everything about this screams danger. His mother could spot us. His boyfriend could, too. Anyone could, really. But nothing like this has ever happened to me before. Not lately, at least. And I am reminded of it every time I am around him. If I felt attractions to people before, this is a natural gas explosion, the kind that is so big it evacuates a town.
It’s interesting: there’s something about him that is strong and a little needy at the same time. In the words of Britney Spears, he’s not a girl, not yet a woman. But then again, he is a man – ugh, I can’t figure it out. I want to protect him, but at the same time he’s fine on his own. But the biggest thing is how fucking weird this is. But every time we have one of these conversations, I am more and more intrigued. And soon I won’t be able to back away.
“God,” I say as we start paddling off around the lake. He’s in the front seat, which faces me. His blondish hair is dripping onto his shoulders, and his blue eyes are shining gold in the light. In this moment, I decide I have never seen a human look so beautiful.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me.”
“Fine. You just look fucking irresistible right now.”
He blushes, then bursts out laughing.
“What’s funny?”
“Seriously, I’m just not used to this,” he says as he looks off at the forest. “My last boyfriend, or flirtation or whatever you want to call him, for my birthday last year he got me a packet of Red Hots. I don’t even know what it’s like to date someone who isn’t in grad school, and dead broke all the time.”
“You should open yourself to kindness, then. Let someone be good to you. I promise you, it’s not as scary as it sounds.”
“It is, though,” he says soon. “I don’t really like myself, so I always wonder why anyone else would like me, too. It’s an endless cycle – their affection disgusts me, because I don’t understand it.”
I wave him off. “That is just called being in your twenties. You’ll love yourself one day.”
“When? Sometimes it seems so hard…”
“When the road gets easier, and you get to know the guy in the mirror. It’ll happen. I promise. Did you ever even think you’d be on a family vacation with a man?”
“I mean…good point. Sometimes I thought I’d never be strong enough to come out and live openly. I guess I have made a lot of progress in that area. If you showed the teenage version of me a picture of this, I wouldn’t believe it.”
“And the progress will only continue. Cheers to you.” I reach out with my free hand, and we clink fake wine glasses, five feet apart.
“Toasting to myself when I don’t even like myself. I could get used to this.”
“So could I,” I say, with total seriousness. He blushes again and looks away.
“I want to know you,” I tell him after a beat. “But, you know, real things. Serious things. What do you do on a Sunday?”
“A Sunday? Hmm, read on my Kindle.”
“No. You’re a reader?”
“I am.”
“Get out of town. So am I. That’s rare to find, even with men my age.”
“Well, books are my escape. They’re the only way I can turn my brain off. At night I’ll probably turn on Real Housewives and get lost in that, too. My other escape. I can be smart and watch trash TV, too.”
“Interesting. I agree.”
“Why do you read?” he asks.
“To live lives I’ll never get to live in my own lifetime.”
“Wow. Deep.”
“I guess,” I shrug. “What are you reading now?”
“Something by this gay author, Devon McCormack.”
“How is it?”
“Good, but I kind of want to jump through my Kindle screen and fuck the author. He’s pretty hot. Just kidding, but not really.”
“Sounds hot,” I laugh. “I’d join.” Then I take a breath. “You know, I always hoped I’d date another reader one day. What do you want out of a relationship?”
I wonder if I’ve gone too far, but he doesn’t seem to care.
“I don’t know. Not to get cheated on, for one.”
“That would be a good place to start,” I laugh.
“Yeah. I don’t have any rules, though. But I don’t believe in marriage.”
“Why not?”
“I think it’s hetero-normative nonsense that doesn’t fit into the gay lifestyle. I believe in love. I don’t need the law to tell me I’m in love, though.”
“Wow,” I say. “All very good points. I have to say, you’re quite a catch, though. Someone at some point is going to put a ring on it.”
“We’ll see,” he says, and I can tell he doesn’t believe me. We’re circling back on the house, but I turn to head out into open water again. There’s still so much more I want to know, and I won’t waste this alone time with him.
“Tell me about your dad,” I ask soon. “Can I ask that? What happened?”
“Well, obviously they split up long before you, but he was still in the picture for a while. Did you hear what happened?”
“I heard bits and pieces.”
He gets a faraway look. “So, yeah. Go back to about eight years ago. He’s remarried, has a new kid, the whole thing. His wif
e hires a new housekeeper, from Singapore. Within a few weeks they’re already banging.”
“The wife and the housekeeper?”
“No, my dad and the housekeeper, duh. He announces he’s in love, and is leaving the family. But the problem is, he can’t get permanent citizenship for his mistress. So what does my dad do? Moves back to Singapore with her, leaves both of his kids high and dry. After a while I just stopped hearing from him completely. He came to my high school graduation, and we had one conversation. It was so sick, because he made the whole thing about himself. He said the calls stopped coming because he felt too guilty and didn’t know how to apologize, so in the end he just gave up. But that’s still making it about his own feelings instead of the son he abandoned, you know? He couldn’t even give me a proper apology. It was so backhanded.”
“Life is hard,” I nod. “So many of us don’t know the repercussions of our actions while we’re committing them. And coming from someone who’s a bit older, I can tell you that people never really grow up. Their bodies just get bigger. Children expect their parents to be these exemplary citizens, when in reality, we’re just as lost as everyone else. We just hide it better.”
“That’s a very good point,” he tells me soon. “But I don’t care, anyway. My mom’s third husband is a better father figure than my own dad ever was. So I’m good on that front. I don’t have weird daddy issues or anything. He walked out – that’s on him. I’m not going to ruin my own life over it, too.”
“It all worked out in the end,” I nod. “Rick’s an amazing guy.”
“Speaking of age,” he says as we hit the head of a creek feeding the lake. I push past some brush, and soon we’re surrounded by trees, heading upstream.
“Yes?”
He swallows his lip. “Would you ever…date someone who was…my age?”
I shiver. There it is – the subject.
“I mean…I date hearts and minds and souls,” I tell him. “The outside body was always just a detail…so yes, I guess I would be a hypocrite if I turned away from someone because of age now. It’s not a big deal to me, anyway. Everything young people think they know about age is wrong. People are just people. Time is like a conveyor belt, and different people come along at different intervals. That doesn’t make older people any different, any less worthy.”