This is my third submission in this particular area of Literotica, and is quite different from many of my other stories. It may help to read the first two stories in this series, if you haven’t already done so.
I would like to thank those who have offered comments and constructive criticism on my previous stories, and those who have patiently waited for this addition to the story.
And now, the disclaimers:
For those who want to say this or that would never happen, remember this is my universe, a place where nearly anything can, and often does, happen. At least on paper… In addition:
- Characters in this story may participate in one or more of the following: Smoking, consumption of adult (meaning, alcoholic) beverages, utterance of profanities.
- All sexual activity is between consenting adults 18 years of age or older.
- Statements or views uttered by the fictional characters in this story do not necessarily reflect the views or opinions of the author.
Please refer to my profile for more on my personal policy regarding comments, feedback, follows, etc. (Yes, I DO moderate comments) And please remember, this is a work of fiction, not a docu-drama…
…
It was August again, nine months after I had proposed to my cousin, Candi. Yes, I’m engaged to marry my cousin, which, by the way, is legal in New Mexico. Candi — also known as “Buttercup” in our family — is starting her second year at the University of New Mexico in Albuquerque, and I’m starting my third.
My name, by the way, is Tim Wheeler, and I’ve always been close to my cousin. Growing up, the adults called us “kissing cousins,” even though we had never actually kissed — or done anything else even remotely romantic. I guess they could see how close we were, even if we (or to be more precise, I) didn’t.
I’ll never forget the first time we actually made love. She had just arrived at my condo, where she would stay while she attended school. That first night, we played strip poker and I suppose you could say we both won.
Our love blossomed and I proposed to her when we went to visit my parents in Roswell. Her parents, my Aunt Pat and Uncle Grove, had come up from Carlsbad and were present when I proposed. Our love continued to grow since then, and both our parents were relieved to hear we would wait until Candi finished her first four years of college.
This time of the year is always hectic, as everyone is rushing around getting registered for classes and taking care of all the administrative stuff involved with that. But for the last few days, Candi seemed, well, out of sorts and just a bit short-tempered.
I had tried talking to her about it, but she simply told me it was her problem and she would deal with it. I backed off, and decided to let it drop, at least for the time being. But as time went on, she got even more testy.
We had just finished dinner and were cleaning the dishes as we always did, when her phone buzzed. She looked at it, then slammed it on the kitchen counter. That was it, as far as I was concerned, and I was determined to get to the bottom of things.
“Alright, sweetheart, what’s going on?” I asked. “And don’t tell me it’s nothing or you’ll handle it. You’ve been short-tempered for the last several days. Talk to me, please.” She looked at me and I could tell she was fuming. Finally, she nodded her head and grabbed a couple cokes out of the refrigerator.
“Let’s go in the front room,” she said. “I think we need to talk.” I joined her on the couch, wondering what was on her mind. She opened her coke and took a long drink.
“Tim, you know that you weren’t my… first,” she began.
“I know that,” I said. “We talked about all of that, early on.”
“I never told you about my first time,” she said. “It was early in my senior year of high school. I just turned 18. My boyfriend at the time was a guy named Ryan West. He graduated a year ahead of me. He was on his way to New Mexico State University in Las Cruces to finish his bachelor’s degree.”
“What?” I asked. “What do you mean, finish?”
“Yeah, he was in some kind of dual credit program between our school and the college in Carlsbad. He managed to finish his first two years of college by the time he graduated from high school,” she said. “He finished his degree program there, took the LSAT and was accepted to the UNM School of Law here. I ran into him a few days back when I was at the registrar’s office.”
“And?” I asked.
“He said hello, and I said hello back. He wanted to know if we could get together sometime, and I told him I’m engaged to be married,” she said. “I thought that was the end of it, but he’s been pressuring me ever since.”
“What happened? I mean, back when you two were still together?” I asked.
“It didn’t end very well,” she said. “He’s very controlling. Apparently, he thought that since we had done it the one time that he owned me or something. I found it, well, unnerving. He wanted to know where I was all the time, what I was doing, who I was talking to and why. I finally told him to leave me the hell alone.”
“How did he take that?” I asked.
“Not well,” she said. “He threw a fit, said we’d be together again someday and there wasn’t anything I could do to stop it.”
“Sounds like a potential stalker to me,” I said. “Maybe you should report him to the school. They take a dim view of that kind of harassment.”
“I’d rather take care of it myself if you don’t mind,” she said.
“You do know I’ll be here for you, no matter what,” I told her. She smiled as she gave me a kiss.
“I know, and I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch lately. I thought I could take care of it on my own. But there’s another problem,” she said.
“Oh?” I asked. “What’s that?”
“He texted me to say he is on his way over here right now,” she said. “Says he wants to talk to me.”
“He’s coming here?” I asked. “How does he know where you live?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I told him I live off campus, but I didn’t give him our address.”
“Is there anything I should know about this guy?” I asked.
“He knows karate,” she said. “When we were in high school, he won a bunch of tournaments.”
“Terrific,” I said. “So, when will he be here?”
“He said within a half hour,” she said.
“Maybe you’d better go change out of those shorts,” I said. “Put on a pair of jeans or something. I wouldn’t want you to give him the wrong idea.” She looked down at the tiny denim shorts she had on and nodded her head.
“Maybe you’re right,” she said. “I’ll be right back. I’m so sorry about this. I thought I made it clear to him that I’m not available.”
“That’s alright,” I said. She got off the couch and went into the bedroom to change. I heard a knock at the door just as she came back into the front room. “I’ll get it,” I told her. I opened the door to see a tall, muscular man about my age. He had a smirk on his face, and I felt like wiping it off of him.
“I’m here to see Candace Williams,” he said. “She’s expecting me.”
“And you are?” I asked.
“Ryan West. I’m an old boyfriend,” he said, extending his hand.
“Tim Wheeler,” I said, refusing his offer of a handshake. “I’m her fiance. She didn’t tell me we were expecting company.”