Goodbye, cousin.

This is my first post. I thought it would be hard to talk about my own experiences, but I found out here that many people have similar untold stories. I have nothing to do this weekend, so I'll talk about my old story. She's supposed to be my cousin, but we're only a few days apart. When I was little, my parents worked away from home, and I lived with my maternal grandparents for many years. That's why the following story happened. Because of my older cousin and younger cousin, and since we were all still young, my aunt, uncle, and grandmother naturally let my older cousin and me eat and play together, took us shopping, and later we went to and from school together, and lived in the same little house. As children, we laughed and joked, and were incredibly happy every day. At night, we would play with toys and look at picture books together, sometimes falling asleep together while looking at them. Eventually, we started sleeping in the same bed. I remember my aunt and uncle were a little surprised when they first saw it, but after hearing our explanation, they were both amused and exasperated, and tacitly allowed us to sleep in the same bed at night. After all, we were still young, just starting elementary school, around six or seven years old. We certainly weren't as quick to understand things as kids are nowadays. We slept together for three years, until the third grade of elementary school. One day, my aunt said she bought a new bed for my older cousin and me, and wanted us to try it out. What they didn't expect was that neither my older cousin nor I wanted to sleep in the new bed. My aunt tricked and coaxed her into taking the old bed away. My cousin and I cried terribly and even went on a two-meal hunger strike. Eventually, we couldn't take it anymore and started eating again. My aunt didn't think much of it.
Kids are clever; even though we each had a new bed, we'd sneak into one of our beds every night whenever we had the chance. Strangely, my aunt and uncle never noticed. This continued until the second year of junior high. By then, some kids were dating. My cousin was more mature than me, and I don't remember how it started, but I wasn't prepared at all. One day, while we were sleeping together, my cousin started hugging me and playfully touching me, saying she wanted to touch my penis. Since it was summer and I wore less clothing, I didn't have time to resist before her hand was already inside my underwear. For the first time, my penis felt strange. My cousin crawled over and watched it grow bigger; I guess she was quite surprised too. I started touching my own penis. I'd never done it before, and I didn't know it would feel so good. My cousin joined me, and as it grew bigger, I suddenly felt dizzy—my penis ejaculated. We were terrified. The first ejaculation wasn't like semen now; it was thin and watery, but different in color—white. I was terrified, and my cousin, not knowing what was wrong, kept comforting me. My penis, which had been quite large, suddenly became uncontrollable. I thought it had exploded, and I felt nauseous. The two not-so-young kids were at a loss. For the next few days, my cousin held me as I slept, and gradually my fear subsided. I
won't go into the details of how we found out what happened. I only know that the next year and a half were the best time of my life with my cousin. After finding out what happened, my cousin and I began a crazy exploration. First, we masturbated. She helped me, and I helped her. Back then, it wasn't an exaggeration to say we did it three or four times a day. Whenever we had time, we'd lie in bed, lock the door, and caress each other's bodies. Gradually, we learned to kiss, French kiss, wet kiss, and oral sex. I remember the first time we gave each other oral sex, we felt like we were flying to the clouds. After that, no one taught us; it was very natural that we had our first time having sex. We were both 100% virgins, only 145 years old, but it wasn't difficult to find or penetrate her; everything was very natural. My penis entered my cousin's body. I still remember the moment it entered. My cousin probably did her homework and knew it would hurt; she clenched her teeth, her cheeks flushed, and it felt so wonderful…
Our first time having sex was very comfortable; I don't know why, there was no pain or difficulty. For the next year or so, we had sex like crazy, almost every day. Thanks to the national contraception campaign, we knew we wouldn't get pregnant before or after our periods, and we knew we should ejaculate outside. We had sex at least 300 to 400 times, but no one got pregnant. Those were wonderful times; I still cherish them very much…
I don't want to say more. What happened afterward was painful. My parents took me home in my third year of junior high school. My cousin and I cried our eyes out, but we still broke up. We thought that since we were relatives and lived relatively close by, we could see each other often, but in reality, we only saw each other a few times a year…
At first, whenever we met, we would frantically search for places to do it—toilets, underground parking garages, even the stairwells—we did it, or tried to do it. At that time, it felt like our souls were one; when we ejaculated, we would bite each other's tongues and nipples, a feeling of unbearable bliss. Then one night, we were caught in the stairwell by someone we didn't know. We ran away quickly, but it had a huge psychological impact on us; we never dared to do it again.
Later, we went to different high schools in different cities. Especially after we matured, knowing that there was no future for us, we rarely saw each other anymore. Although it was painful, there was nothing we could do.
The last time I saw my cousin was during the winter break of my junior year of college. She was already working and preparing to get married. After dinner, the adults started playing mahjong, and I went to my cousin's room to chat. The atmosphere wasn't awkward; on the contrary, it was very warm. The result was that, somehow, we started crying in each other's arms, but we still knew to suppress our sobs. Then, we made love, for the last time. I bit his breast and ejaculated inside him, leaving deep marks on his breast. He also scratched two long marks on my back. After that, I never saw my cousin again. Her husband's family lived in another city, and she could only come home once a year at most.
The last time I made love with my cousin was only a month before her wedding. She got pregnant immediately after the wedding. There are too many stories on TV about pregnant women marrying other men, and I think the chances are too small and it's all a lie. But thinking about it carefully, I also ask myself, could this child be mine? Because the timing makes perfect sense.
The past seems exciting to everyone when it's told, but I haven't mentioned it for a long time, and I've forgotten some of it. I don't find it particularly unbelievable or unusual anymore; at least to me, it developed naturally step by step. I wonder how many other forum members have had similar experiences. I'll stop here for now. Even now, when I have free time, I still think about how likely it is that my cousin's child is mine.
[The End]

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Goodbye, cousin.

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