TMI Thursday: If You Can't Keep It in Your Pants...

If this does not sate your thirst for awesome TMI stories, then check out all the other glorious tales of things we probably shouldn't tell at LiLu's home for the staunchy raunchy, TMI Thursdays!


I only tell you this story because I'm pretty sure that you opinion of me can't go any lower. So, let's put that to the test, shall we?

I know I've mentioned this ad nauseum, but I grew up in a small town. And I was taught to fear Jesus in a small town. I bring this up only because it's pertinent to the story.

One thing about small towns is that they tend to trap people there. The house I grew up in? My mother grew up in it. Before her? Yep, my grandfather. My parents have moved out of the house. As far as I know, it's sitting empty. If it get sold to anyone other than my brother, it will be the first time since the very first timbers were nailed together that the house has been out of my family. The thing is, I can do that with most of the houses in town.

In defense of the tiny slice of America that molded my youth, there's been some change over. When GM built a manufacturing plant south of Fort Wayne, a lot of new people moved into the area and some of the houses changed hands and the older families moved around. But before those people moved? The houses were still in the hands of the descendants of the original owners.

The point is, the people who are living there now have roots in the town that go all the way back to its founding in 1850. This means that there's a certain degree of...inbreeding...for lack of a better term that goes on. Pretty much, I was related to about half the town.

Enter my cousin Jamie.

For whatever unfortunate reason, all of my cousins in town were female. This wasn't much of a problem...except for cousin Jamie. Cousin Jamie was pretty good-looking. It makes sense because her mom was attractive and her aunts (also my cousins!) were really fucking hot. And, of course, because God has a deliciously twisted sense of humor, Jamie blossomed early. And, by blossomed, I mean she had huge tits. Or maybe they were normal-sized, but in the seventh grade, they sure appeared huge.

Since we lived in the same small town, we went to the same school. We rode the same bus. We had many of the same friends. In fact, we were friends. I played at her house. She played at mine. Jamie explained to me what it meant for a girl to get her period. Jamie was a wealth of knowledge about the opposite sex during my formative years. In fact, I was able to confide quite a bit in my cousin. Like, for instance, when I told her of my secret crush on this girl named Kristine, Jamie handled it like a pro.

"You realize, she's your cousin, right?" Jamie asked.

"What?" I said. "You mean, she belongs to that branch of the Brickleys?"

Jamie nodded. Somehow, having her break the news to me made it a lot easier for me to take. I mean, Jamie was family and Jamie was also a friend and a confidant.

And, she was stacked.

Yes, when I was bored in science class, I would sometimes let my eyes linger. Sometimes on the bus we'd sit together and she'd be talking to someone and I'd be staring at her breasts jiggling.

So, in the seventh grade, we had gym class toward the end of the day, and we'd all shower up and then came science class. One day, gym ran over a little bit, and so we had to hurry to get to science class. That meant quick showers and get dressed as quickly as possible, and then run about as quickly as you could to get to science. Mr. Morton did not tolerate tardiness.

Science class began to get boring, and so my eyes started to wander around the room. My friend Heath was asleep. Alycia Crago's hair was still wet and she looked adorable. And, my cousin Jamie...doesn't seem to be wearing a bra!

I looked over. She sat in the next row over, and she had her arm lifted up while she was writing something, and I looked right down the sleeve of her t-shirt. The sleeve was rolled up, making it even easier access. And. There. They. Were.

I stared. I couldn't help it. We were discussing weather or something I really didn't give a fuck about. At that moment, I didn't give a fuck about anything other than biology. Weather? Boring. Chemistry? Yawn. Genealogy? Fuck off.

I stared for a good thirty minutes. I had a full view of a slab of side-boob, and her breasts laid in such a way that her nipples pointed out from her median. So, yes. I saw nipple. And, I saw pretty much all of her left breast, as well. And, of course, since I was, what, twelve? I was fucking rock hard.

The bell rang. I picked up my books, held them over my front, and walked quickly to my locker. I threw my books in my backpack and carried it in front of me the whole way out to the bus. Fortunately, by the time I sat down, I had calmed down a little bit.

And then, of course, Jamie sat with me.

Oh, agony. The thirty minute ride home featured me watching her unencumbered breasts bouncing the whole way home. I grew rigid once more, and my dick was pressed against my pants, giving me the old pup tent routine. Finally, I got home.

I marched right upstairs and pulled it out and took care of the growing pressure in my groin. I tried to think of someone else--probably Alycia since she had looked so adorable with her wet hair--but I couldn't help but think of Jamie and her beautiful, large breasts. It didn't take very long for me to cum, which is good, since my brother was also home and we shared a room.

Now, in my defense, Jamie was a somewhat distant cousin...something like a third cousin. Unfortunately, this was not the only time I fantasized about her. This is just the most vivid memory of those times.

Fast forward to our freshman year of high school. I'm not sure why this happened--it was some kind of Valentine's Day promotion--some company came to the school and they gave us surveys to fill out and they would find matches for us for possible dating. Number two on my list? Yeah, cousin Jamie. In fact, of the top ten people who matched best with me in my class, I was related to five of them. Best matches in the entire school? Three of them were cousins. I remember getting the sheets, all excited that I'd find someone to nail date, and this was what I got. I looked at the papers and uttered an audible "Sonuvabitch!". Fortunately, my homeroom teacher didn't hear it.

So there. The first time I saw real, live breasts, they were attached--rather lusciously--to my cousin. And since I'm a dirty little perv, I didn't really care.