I should clarify: This story is true, as are the others I wrote at the same time, but for obvious legal purposes, they are…someone else’s…true stories.

In the spirit of true stories, they don’t necessarily have sequels. I haven’t seen said cousin since that trip – we live in states far away from each other.

As for her knowing what she was holding, some would attribute her ignorance to age, though I certainly can’t agree or disagree with them, since I have no idea what her age was at the time. But let’s just say that, all things considered, it’s quite believable that she had no idea what she was holding. I’m not terrible well-endowed, and while I’m bigger than my thumb, I’m not sure someone with hands as small as hers would notice the difference. I’m not packing enough that she’d be tipped off by the difference. And she wasn’t far enough along in life to think about that sort of thing.

Sorry there’s no sequel here. Just a good memory of maybe the hardest I’ve ever shot cum in my entire life.