The Reunion
"He hasn't seen his cousin in ten years. The scrawny tomboy he remembers is gone. In her place is a woman with dangerous curves and a look in her eyes that says she remembers every childhood game they used to play."
The last time I saw Priya, we were fifteen.
She was skinny then. All elbows and knees, braces on her teeth, hair in two braids that she hated but her mom insisted on. We'd spent every summer together as kids—swimming in the lake behind Grandma's house, building forts in the woods, falling asleep on the same couch during family movie nights.
Then her family moved to Seattle. Mine stayed in Ohio. And ten years passed like nothing.
Now Grandma's eighty, and the whole family is gathering at the old house one last time before it sells. I'd been dreading it. Aunts pinching my cheeks. Uncles asking about my job. Cousins I barely remember.
Then I walked through the door and saw her.
She was standing in the kitchen, talking to someone I didn't recognize. She'd seen me first—had to have—because she was already smiling when our eyes met.
"Alex." She crossed the room in three strides. "Oh my God, Alex."
She hugged me. And everything I thought I knew about my cousin vanished.
She wasn't skinny anymore. She was thick—beautifully, impossibly thick. Her hips flared out from a narrow waist. Her breasts pressed against my chest—full, heavy, overwhelming. Her ass, when I instinctively put my hand on her lower back, was round and firm and perfect.
"Priya?" I pulled back. Looked at her. Really looked. "Jesus."
"I know." She did a little spin. She was wearing a summer dress, yellow, that showed off everything. "Puberty finally caught up with me. Somewhere around twenty, my body decided to make up for lost time."
"I'll say."
"Is that good or bad?" She was teasing, but there was something underneath. Something searching.
"It's..." I swallowed. "You look incredible."
"So do you." Her eyes traveled down my body. No pretense. No shame. "We grew up, huh?"
"Yeah." I couldn't stop staring at her curves. "We did."
The house was chaos.
Aunts and uncles everywhere. Kids running and screaming. Grandma holding court in the living room, dispensing wisdom and criticism in equal measure.
But somehow, Priya and I kept finding each other.
In the kitchen, reaching for the same bottle of wine. In the hallway, squeezing past each other (her breasts brushing my arm). On the porch, sharing a cigarette she'd stolen from Uncle Raj.
"Remember the tree house?" she asked, smoke curling around her lips.
"The one we built when we were twelve?"
"The one where we used to hide and tell secrets." She passed me the cigarette. "I told you I had a crush on Jason Park. You told me you liked Brittany Martinez."
"God. Brittany Martinez." I shook my head. "Wonder what happened to her."
"Married. Three kids. Real estate agent in Akron." Priya took the cigarette back. "I looked her up."
"Why?"
"Wanted to see what you were into." She held my gaze. "Back then."
"And what did you conclude?"
"That you liked blondes with big boobs." She exhaled smoke. "Which tracks, based on your Facebook."
"You've been stalking me."
"Research." She smiled. "I wanted to know who you became."
"And?"
"And I'm curious." She stubbed out the cigarette. "Come on. I want to show you something."
The tree house was still there.
Barely. The wood was rotting, the rope ladder frayed. But it held our weight—mine first, then hers, climbing up behind me.
"Careful of the—" I started.
"Third step. I know. Some things you don't forget."
She pulled herself onto the platform. The space was smaller than I remembered, or we were bigger. We sat knee to knee, backs against opposite walls.
"Why did we stop talking?" I asked.
"Life. Distance. The usual." She picked at a splinter. "I thought about reaching out a hundred times. But then years passed, and it felt weird."
"I thought about you too."
"Yeah?" She looked up. The moonlight through the slats caught her face, her eyes. "What did you think?"
"That I missed you. That summers weren't the same without you." I paused. "That I used to wonder what you looked like now."
"And now that you know?"
"I can't stop looking at you."
She was quiet. Then she moved—not away, but toward. Crawling across the narrow space until she was in front of me, her face inches from mine.
"Do you remember the game we used to play? The one where we'd practice kissing?"
"We were eleven."
"So?"
"So we didn't know what we were doing."
"I know now." Her hand came up, cupped my face. "Do you want to practice again?"
I should have said no. Should have remembered that she was my cousin, that our entire family was a hundred yards away, that this was wrong on every possible level.
Instead, I kissed her.
She tasted like smoke and wine and something I'd been missing for ten years.
Her lips were soft, her tongue insistent. She climbed into my lap, straddling me, her thick thighs squeezing my hips. Her breasts pressed against my chest.
"I've wanted this since I was sixteen," she whispered against my mouth. "Since I started understanding what wanting meant."
"We're cousins."
"Second cousins." She ground against me. I was already hard. "Technically legal in thirty states."
"Priya—"
"Don't." She kissed me again. Harder. "Don't be the responsible one. I've had ten years of responsible. I've dated responsible men with responsible jobs who fucked me responsibly twice a month. I want you."
"What if someone finds us?"
"Then they find us." She reached between us. Found my zipper. "But they won't. Everyone's inside. And we've got about an hour before anyone notices we're gone."
Her hand wrapped around me. Stroked.
"One hour," she breathed. "Let's make it count."
The tree house was too small for what we wanted.
We climbed down—stumbling, laughing, hands everywhere—and made our way to the lake. The same lake where we'd swum as kids. The same dock where we'd dangled our feet and talked about nothing.
She pulled her dress over her head. Moonlight on curves. She wasn't wearing a bra—her breasts hung heavy, nipples hard. Her panties came next, revealing thick thighs and a dark patch of hair between them.
"Your turn," she said.
I stripped. She watched every move.
"God, you grew up nice." She stepped toward me. Wrapped her hand around my cock. "This definitely wasn't here when we were eleven."
"Neither were these." I cupped her breasts. Squeezed.
She moaned. "Careful. They're sensitive."
"Good."
I bent down. Took a nipple in my mouth. She gasped, arching into me, her hand tightening on my shaft.
"Fuck, Alex—"
I walked her backward until her ass hit the dock railing. Lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around me, and I could feel her wet heat against my cock.
"Inside," she begged. "I need you inside—"
I pushed in.
She was tighter than I expected.
Her thick body surrounded me, pulled me deep. She moaned—loud, echoing across the lake—and I covered her mouth with mine to muffle the sound.
"Someone will hear," I warned.
"Let them." She bit my lip. "Fuck me harder."
I braced her against the railing and thrust. Deep. Hard. The way she wanted. Her breasts bounced between us. Her ass jiggled with every impact. She was making sounds I'd never heard before—desperate, animal sounds.
"Yes—yes—yes—" Her nails raked my back. "I've waited so long—so fucking long—"
"I'm here now."
"Don't ever leave again—" She was crying, I realized. Tears mixing with sweat. "Promise me—"
"I promise."
She came.
It hit her like a wave—her whole body clenching, her voice rising to a scream she couldn't contain. I felt her pulse around me, and it pulled me over too.
I came inside my cousin under the same moon we'd wished on as children.
We lay on the dock after. Naked. Tangled. The wood was rough against my back.
"That was..." She trailed off.
"Yeah."
"We're going to hell."
"Probably." I pulled her closer. Her head rested on my chest. "Worth it."
"Definitely worth it." She traced patterns on my stomach. "What now?"
"I don't know. I live in Columbus. You're in Seattle."
"Long distance."
"It would have to be secret."
"Obviously." She propped herself up on one elbow. Looked at me. "Do you want this? Really? Because if this was a one-time thing, a family reunion fling, I can handle that. But I need to know."
"I want you." The words came easy. True. "I've wanted you since I saw you in that kitchen. Maybe since before that. Maybe since we were kids and I didn't know what wanting was."
"Then we figure it out." She kissed me. "Seattle has direct flights to Columbus. And I work remotely."
"Are you saying—"
"I'm saying maybe I find an apartment in Ohio. Somewhere close but not too close." She smiled—that same mischievous smile from our childhood. "Somewhere my cousin can visit. Frequently."
"People will ask questions."
"Let them ask." She climbed on top of me. I was getting hard again. "We've got a story. Reconnected at Grandma's. Best friends again. Platonic roommates who just happen to never date anyone else."
"That's insane."
"So is this." She sank onto me, taking me inside her again. "But I've spent ten years being sane. I'm done with sane."
She started to move. I stopped arguing.
We snuck back to the house separately.
No one noticed. Or if they did, they didn't say anything. The next morning, at breakfast, we sat across from each other and pretended we hadn't fucked on the dock until 3 AM.
"It's so nice you two reconnected," Grandma said, watching us. "You were always close as children."
"We're making up for lost time," Priya said.
Under the table, her foot slid up my leg.
"That's lovely," Grandma said. "Family is everything."
Priya smiled at me. I smiled back.
Family.
Right.