My Cousin Samantha

The idea just came to me. It’s kind of from the experiences that I’d have with my cousins except this one was more extreme and caused by one girl. For some reason girls just loved to take advantage of me when I was little. Again I apologize for any spelling/grammar errors, but I’m too lazy to reread and why the hell would I have an editor? I don’t take this stories that seriously. Anyways, please enjoy!



Although years had passed had pass and I was now twelve I’d think back to the traumatizing moments where I was forced to visit my cousin Samantha. I’d feel a familiar feeling pass through me. It was a pleasurable sensation that would linger and I could not surpass despite how hard I tried. I’d be brought back to the times where she’d sexually abuse me, although I had no idea what it was called at the time. Unfortunately, I was a little weakling back then and she could easily over power me. She’d take me in her room where we would be hidden in her closet. In there she would force me to do whatever sexual acts she wanted. The last time I saw her pending to my visit today was when I was ten and she was fourteen. That experience was a lot more intense than the others and she stripped me completely along with herself.

“Lay down,” she had demanded. When I refused she forcefully laid me down and pressed her warm body against me. She grinds against my crotch with hers for the longest time before I felt her body tense against mine and tremble.

“Are you okay?” I had asked. I didn’t care as much for her well being as I did for having to explain what we had been doing, but Samantha stops fidgeting on top of me and gets off.

“Yeah, that was called an orgasm. If you acted like a boy should you would have been able to do it for me,” she teases. Whatever ever had happened to her I wanted no part of. In spite of myself I fell for her bait and responded.

“I do act like a boy,” I informed her while grabbing my clothes. Samantha reached forward and clutch my penis inside of her hands and squeeze tightly, which felt excruciating. I begged her to let go.

“See? Boys aren’t weak like you,” she remarked. She released her grip and left me alone in her closet and I cried in spite of myself.

“Mom, I don’t want to go,” I told her. The man at the counter said they would be boarding in five minutes.

“Noah don’t start. Just go. You’ll have fun this time,” she promises me.

“I never have fun! Every time I come back home I’m miserable!” I complain.

“Just try for me, alright?” she practically begged me.