My Cousin Claudia

My Cousin Claudia

By Author Unknown

(The part before the asterisk is mostly true, the rest could very well have happened!)

When I was sixteen, my parents invited my twelve year old cousin Claudia for the summer holidays. One evening they were visiting neighbours, and so my cousin and I watched television, lying in their beds. Since the program didn't grip my attention, I started thinking about the naughty little thing before me.

Three experiences came to my mind. At an early meeting she had welcomed me with a sudden kick in my ass, after which she rushed giggling away. On my last visit she once approached me and told me to look at her: I did so and got a resounding slap on my face, accompanied with a big smile and the comment "This one went home!" Of course, I tried to retaliate, but to no avail: she ducked quickly - and landed a second slap. Holding her hands didn't help me either because every time I let loose to slap her, her hands were faster. Once I just grazed her, which she indignantly answered with a rather hard hit. After twenty (!) slaps from her and zero from me I gave up. While my face was a bit red, hers beamed with joy and of course, her broad mouth wouldn't stop teasing me.

The third episode was, when, on an evening in her room, she extended her right leg and commanded me to lick her long red soles. She added that she had washed her feet, but I refused and went out, stressing that I would never do such a thing.

Now I was lying behind this arrogant bitch and found the moment appropriate to teach her a lesson. I slowly brought my foot to her face. Unfortunately she noticed that and dodged my move, yelling at me what a pig a was. Still on the bed, she sat up, warning me that if anyone was going to feel the other's feet on his face it was certainly I and not she. Meanwhile I had taken the same position, and we both started moving around like bulldozers, persistently lifting the right foot and aiming at the other's face. My cousin proved to be much quicker, as always, but couldn't touch me since I was rather defensive. Soon she paused for a moment so that I could approach her. Foreseeing my attempt, she rushed forward, ran her sweaty foot into my face* and pushed me down. I got hold of her leg, but she withdraw it and straddled me in no time. I tried to shake her off, but stopped soon because she started bumping my flanks, which was unbearable. So I cried: "Please stop, I give up!!!" "Already?" she asked, torturing me a bit more. "Yes!!" I groaned. "Then you have to lick my feet!" Well, I didn't have a choice. Although the job aroused me, it was still hard because her sweat was bitter and foul, and that she laughed her head off was not sweet either.

After I had cleaned her soles and toes, I was released and went to the bathroom in order to clean also my face and tongue. Yet the combination of a spider and my arachnophobia stopped me so that I was condemned to smell and taste her foot-sweat until the late hour when my parents came back. "What's the matter now? Does footlicker-boy enjoy the scent of my feet?" Claudia taunted. Yet the worst thing was that she told my parents everything, even that she had seen a big bulge in my pants.