Cousins Don't Need Modesty (Illustrated)

I wasn’t prepared for the girls to laugh and giggle after the final, explosive spray of water squirted out of their asses onto the lawn. They both gloated and declared victory, pointing and preening – asking me and Mister Johnson to declare a winner.

“What about me? I’ve some say in who won,” Archie complained.

“Oh, you’d favor Veronica,” Betty complained.

“She’s always nice to you; I am the one you think is a proper bitch,” Veronica accused Archie of naturally being biased toward her sister at the same time. The girls both laughed when they realized that they both felt Archie would naturally favor the other sister.

“You are both shite sisters, but proper doggies; I’d say that based on the scores, Veronica wins it, but only by the hair on the crack of her arse!” Archie proudly added, “Which is as clean as a whistle now!”

“My bum feels electric, like I’ve lost seven pounds,” Veronica wiggled her ass – seemingly enjoying the sensation of her discomfort.

“That’s not fair; it came down to who could hold the most water in their shitter?” Betty pouted, still dripping wet, covered in as much as mud as she was suds from the soap.

“I think you should talk less and work on my ribbon for best puppy,” Veronica chided her sister.

“I promised that Betty would get a rematch next time I babysat. You can practice between now and then with your brother.”

The girls made recommendations for future contests, most involving who was better looking, but some involving the same games that we had just played. We hosed them down as much as we could, and brought them inside, while the two of them trash talked one another.

They insisted on putting makeup back on even though they had just washed their faces clean – they looked so much more youthful (and innocent) without the blue and pinks painted on their pretty little faces. “Please, Mister Dalton?” they complained about having fresh faces.

“Bloody hell, let them paint their ugly faces,” Archie sided with the girls, and they were elated when I gave them permission to re-apply makeup.

“You enjoyed the games then?” I asked as we brought them inside and allowed them to dry off with a towel; the girls were giddy but soaked and blushing from the constant humiliation.

“Are they over, or can we remain as puppies for the rest of the night?” Veronica’s question told me that they enjoyed the games tremendously. I agreed, and the girls dutifully crawled around the living room and kitchen for the rest of the evening. We watched Johnny Carson with them at our feet while Archie teased them.

They tried to talk us into continuing the contests and giving them chances to earn digestive biscuits, but I found that telling them no did wonders toward making them even more eager to continue playing. I think if I had insisted that we continue the games, they might have lost interest quickly – the fact that they had to whine, beg and plead to play – made them both reinforce their constant need to be judged and praised.

Instead, Veronica bragged and lorded it over her sister that she had won, while Betty simpered and whined to be allowed a chance to redeem herself. “If I had known it would come down to who could hold the much water in her bum, I’d have practiced! It’s not fair, is it? Veronica has the bigger bum, doesn’t she?”

“You have the fatter quim, so it all evens out,” Archie teased them. They didn’t seem to mind being put down as long as you offered up a compliment at the same time.

“Yes, she has a fat quim, but Betty has prettier pussy lips,” I said to Archie while we sat on the couch. The girls were eager to crawl and show us their pussies so we could judge them.

“What do you consider a pretty cunny lip?” Archie asked as he sat on the couch and looked down at his sisters, who were both eager to be judged and found pretty – for any category, no matter how vulgar.

“How the pussy lips fold and are so full, very kissable,” I said. Betty smiled up at me, pretty blue eyes beaming as she looked over her shoulder. Veronica, on the other hand, was inconsolable but wagged her pussy to get some recognition as well.

“Caw, you’d kiss Betty’s cunny? Her lips look like stretched-out taffy that’s been pulled one too many times and left out to dry!”

“I didn’t say that I’d kiss my cousin’s pussy lips. I said that between the two girls, they look kissable,” I clarified.

“You two can bugger off and kiss my arse then,” Veronica whined with disappointment.

“You’ve got thin pussy lips, not nearly as puffy and pink as your sister, but I like how your clitoris hangs down and jiggles when you crawl about.”

“You don’t have to worry about their feelings, mate,” Archie laughed and said that I was being kind. “Your puss looks like an old handbag that’s been turned inside out and smells like a cod warehouse that’s got a fresh delivery, and if that little penis that hangs down between your gash is a clit, then I’d say it looks like a chewed-up bit of bubblegum stuck to the pavement,” he said bluntly.

Veronica glared at him, almost prepared to close her legs, when Archie told her to remain as she was so he could have a proper look at her arse. “You have a tight arse crack, but when you relax your bum and stop clenching, the holes not bad ta’ look at. I’d say now that you’ve had your brown eye washed and stretched out, it looks a cute shade of pink, like a twitching rabbit’s nose.”

“You like my arse hole, Mister Archie?” Veronica seemed flattered and pleasantly shocked that anyone would find it attractive. “I clench my arse cheeks so as to be a bit modest; because you’ve said that when we are naked, you don’t like seeing our mud flaps!”

“Well, it’s not so bad now that you had it stretched and cleaned out,” Archie reined back his compliment. “You don’t need modesty around me – it’s not like you can hide those fart factories fully, anyway – no matter how tightly you try to squeeze your little hammy-arse cheeks together.”

“If you are fine with it, don’t whinge so much when we are naked around the house,” Veronica chided him. “What about you, Mister Dalton? Which of us has the prettier bum hole?” Veronica spread her cheeks with her hands – exposing her asshole to both her brother and me. Betty was aghast but did the same thing to ensure that I had a proper look.

“I would have said Betty before the contest, but that’s because she doesn’t walk around with her ass clenched so tightly, but now that I’ve had a proper look,” I leaned forward and regarded both of their pretty asses and pussies “I’d say that I like the color of Betty’s asshole, and how puffy it is, but I think yours is okay,” I decided to be diplomatic.

That choice didn’t make either girl happy -if anything, it only caused them both to insist that I make a decision in their favor.

“Why don’t you just shag Betty then. Her cunny is the prettiest, and her arse is the sweetest,” Veronica pouted – clearly jealous of her sister. “She’s all smiles and light and I am the bitch with the black hair.”

Betty, on the other hand, wasn’t happy without complete victory and wanted me to clarify that I REALLY liked her arse the best. “You pumped me full of water and got me all excited playing with my backdoor; surely you like my bum the best, Mister Dalton?”

“Carson’s back on, you daft cow! Your bum isn’t anything special to look at,” Archie teased his older sister. “Your fart hole looks like a chewed-up Werther’s Original left in a pensioner’s pocket too long, and the only thing that comes out of it is fart biscuits and poohs; so it’s not like you’ve much reason to be proud of being born with an additional hole you can be buggered in to get your jollies.”

“It doesn’t look like that,” Betty complained and doubled down on showing it to me – spreading her cheeks even wider and asking me what I thought. “I’ve never been buggered either – I can’t help it if playing with my bum gives me pleasure. Yours might as well if you tried.”

“I am not that desperate, you minty cow – now stop asking me which mud hole is less swampy and let me watch the telly,” my cousin laughed at his sisters.

“Can you wink it?” I asked Betty – curious if she could make her asshole pucker up and wink at me. I’d seen the girls do it before, but I assumed it was done involuntarily like a muscle contraction.

“Wink it, how?” she seemed intrigued by the question.

“Every now and then, I’ve noticed the two of you pucker your arseholes; you close and shut them,” I said.

“We do?” that set off a round of questions from Betty and Veronica about whether they were winking their backdoors at me.

“Bloody hell, look what you’ve done, now I won’t hear the end of who can wink the most or the hardest. They won’t be satisfied until one of them can open a beer bottle by gripping it with their shitter,” Archie joked. “I said one nice thing to Veronica about how her arsehole wasn’t awful to look at when she cleans it and gets it stretched out with a few enemas, and you’d think my sisters were suddenly more than just two naughty naked girls on the carpet with little tits, and some stretched out piss and shit holes.”

“Sorry, Mister Archie – it’s just we’re proper bored of Johnny Carson, and the carpet is rubbing our knees sore.”

“Then put on some clothes, sit on the couch, and shut your gobs so I can hear what Robin Williams has to say. You are up way past your bedtime, so count your lucky stars that we are willing to rate which of you two has the better tits or arse during the commercial, yeah?”

The girls were too eager to hear who had the prettier breasts and didn’t want to wait for the commercial. They turned to face us, holding their breasts up, and asked which one had the nicest boobs.

“Caw, here we go, now they want to know who has the nicest ant bites?” Archie feigned outrage, but he enjoyed ranking his sisters just like I did. It was fun because they were so invested in competing with one another. I didn’t want to be accused of playing favorites, but the girls were never satisfied when I said that they were equally impressive.

They also liked it when I created several categories like the prettiest, biggest, sweetest, or most kissable, but they both sought the approval of being the overall winner in whatever category they were being rated on.

“Veronica has the sexiest tits,” I observed casually – which started a new firestorm of questions and excitement. I hadn’t used the word “sexy” to describe my cousins until that moment, and suddenly, that was the most sought-after accolade.

“Sexy, how? She’s got the same baby boobs as I do,” Betty pouted, while Veronica crowed with enthusiasm for being named sexiest tits.

“How can you say anything about Veronica being sexy?” Archie asked. “Her tits look like two apples with fucking knitting needles sticking out.” He raised his fingers to his own chest and pointed them straight out to exaggeratedly mock his sister’s stiff nipples sticking out.

“My nipples don’t stick out like that,” Veronica pouted and downplayed their stiffness.

“That’s why they are so sexy; the nubs are always stiff – like Veronica has twin hard-ons jutting out of her tits at all times, and she’s ready to fuck,” I observed.

“Caw,” Veronica opened her mouth wide in shock. I thought I might have finally hit the point where my barbed insults and observations about my cousins’ bodies had gone too far. However, Veronica’s feigned outrage was her reaction to being incredibly flattered. “Do you fancy stiff nipples then? They are embarrassing in a sweater at school, always sticking out like pencil erasers. Do boys like hard nipples?”

“We might if they weren’t attached to a dim-witted munter with tits the size of boiled eggs and the smell of desperation for cock dripping off of her,” Archie added. The girls flinched when he mocked them about their small chests, but it was clear he wasn’t being serious. They had cute, perky little breasts—just the right size for their frames. I got the feeling they were so used to being teased that they barely reacted anymore like it was just part of how things worked. Honestly, if their brother spent all his time hyping them up instead of knocking them down a peg, they’d probably have turned into complete narcissists—so, in a way, I could see why he didn’t.

“I was asking Mister Dalton,” Veronica blushed, clearly mortified by his description of her. She hardly seemed desperate or ugly when I arrived, but now I knew my cousins were little nymphos with sex on the brain.

“Are your nipples hard because you are turned on, or do they just hang stiff like that naturally?” I decided not to answer her question – and ask one of my own. I noticed that frequently frustrated the girls but made them all the more eager for me to talk to them.

“I don’t rightly know; I’ve always got sex on the brain,” she admitted as she tugged her nipples a few times like she was jerking off two small penises.

“What turns you on more, rubbing your clit, tweaking your nipples, or fucking yourself on your mom’s dildo?” I asked. Veronica and Betty were both extremely excited to ponder the question, but Archie wasn’t having it.

“Oi, I can’t hear the telly, and if you get these two gits started on this topic, they’ll be up when mum gets home, with quims dripping. They should have been put away in bed hours ago!”

“What time is everyone’s bedtime?” I asked, suddenly remembering that I was technically the babysitter. I was having so much fun teasing the girls and watching them beg for compliments that I had forgotten that was my role.

“The Girls are in bed by 9 p.m. I’ve no bedtime, but I usually go to bed after Carson,” Archie explained, explaining that he usually watched television from the television in his room.

“Some of our babysitters let us stay up a little later,” Betty pleaded, but when I questioned her, she said that it usually was only about 10 p.m. and it was well past 11 p.m. now.

“It isn’t a school night. Is your mum really going to be mad if you are up when she gets home?” I asked. My parents wouldn’t have cared if I was up late on a weekend, but my mom generally expected me in bed by 9 p.m. on school nights as well. I didn’t mention that, though.

“That depends; are you really going to make us tell her we wanked off with her toothbrush, and had a go with her dildo? You let us do it the second time, after all,” Betty asked.

“I fully expect you to confess what you did, and I’ve no problem telling your mom that I punished you by making you masturbate with it in front of us as part of your punishment,” I lied. I wasn’t sure just how far my Aunt was going to be comfortable with me going with her daughters. I knew she was okay with paddling their butts. I wasn’t so sure about the enemas, puppy contest, or any of the other things that I had done with them.

“We could agree not to tell mum you gave us pizza and digestives; so she won’t be mad at you for spoiling us, if you could find it in your heart not to mention playing with her toy? You can tell her what we did with the toothbrushes, but she’s not going to have a fit that we messed with her toys,” Veronica offered.

“Yeah, we want you to keep being our babysitter, she’ll think you are soft on us if she finds out you allowed us to have pizza and play at being puppies all night,” Betty warned.

“Oh, I know what you two gashes are like,” Archie scoffed, folding his arms and shaking his head. “You two slags couldn’t tell the truth if it was stapled to your fucking foreheads. You’d spin a tale so sweet, you’d have Mum thinking you were a pair of fucking nuns caught up in a misunderstanding.”

Veronica and Betty looked down at the carpet in defeat.

He grinned coldly, nodding toward me. “But don’t worry, Mister Dalton—if these two try to water it down, I’ll be right there to set the record straight. They can cry, pout, bat their little lashes all they like, but I’ll make sure Mum knows precisely what went on. I wouldn’t let these lying little tarts talk their way out of a paper bag, let alone this if I were you -this week it’s pizza, next week they’d expect you to give them cheeseburgers, cake and fizzy pops. Now thank Mister Dalton and off to bed with you sluts.”

“We’ve been well behaved for the most part, and we normally don’t get treated like stars with this much attention, thank you for the fun night, Mister Dalton,” Betty stood up and hugged me – her hard nipples pressed into my shirt as she lingered for a while bending over me while I sat on the couch.

“Aye, I know you are probably still miffed. We were testing you when you first arrived to see if you’d let us get away with masturbating. I had no idea you were going to be so creative and think up games for us to play on your own. You’ve been the best babysitter we ever had,” Veronica hugged me even harder, pressing her hard nipples into my chest even more firmly than her sister, bending over at the couch.

“Tug him off while you are at it then,” Archie teased the girls that they may as well play with my dick, because they were making it so obvious that they wanted to be touched before the end of the night.

“We were just giving our cousin a hug good night,” Betty hugged Archie much the same way as she had me -wrapping her arms tightly around him and giving him a quick kiss on the lips. “I am sorry I am not a better sister. Tonight was the first time you’ve ever whinged about it like that,” she said as he struggled to get her to release him from the tight hold.

“I say it all the time to you lazy munters, but you don’t listen,” he said as he wiped off the kiss with a shrug. I noticed it was the first time he blushed. I don’t think Betty noticed the erection in his pants as he crossed his legs awkwardly.

“We hear you complain about it when we forget to make your bed, or are slow with your tea, but we just thought you were having a laugh. I am sorry too, Mister Archie,” Veronica held wrapped her arms around his neck, and held him close, looking him in the eyes as she apologized profusely. “Do you really want us to keep calling you Mister Archie even when Mister Dalton is not here?”

“It does have a proper ring to it, doesn’t it?” Archie extricated himself from his older sister’s tight grip. “You can call me that at home, but not around my mates or at school; it’d be embarrassing.”

“For who? You or them?” I laughed. Betty and Veronica’s eyes darted over to me when I made the quip, but they didn’t laugh.

“What difference would it make if it humiliated my sisters? My mates know they are horny little twats. Betty and Veronica have tried to shag all of them.”

“That’s not true,” Veronica corrected. “We haven’t had a go at that skinny lad that picks his nose and has a lisp,” she corrected.

“You sucked him off behind the bleachers at homecoming,” he corrected.

“Oi, well that’s true,” Veronica stuck her finger in her mouth, as if she had forgotten. “It was proper dark, and we went round and round on all your mates. It was just a blowjob, though, and it’s not like we singled him out to flirt with and tease.”

“Do you give a lot of blowjobs?” I asked. I had been hard all night, but now my cock twitched in my pants, even stiffer than usual.

“These two would gobble a homeless beggar’s knob if he pulled his cock out and let them have a go,” Archie answered for his sisters. They didn’t deny it – even smiling like they were proud of it.

“I’ve a bit of an oral fixation, and mum says that it’s better than getting preggers,” Betty admitted with a blush.

“Aye, I’m not about to let Betty have a taste of all the cock. I’d rather ride a prick than suck it, but I’m not going to say no to having a few licks of a man’s bulging todger, if he offers it.”

My cousins were so self-effacing and openly unabashed about the fact that they liked to suck dicks, that it made me even hornier to think about them licking my cock. “Do you like big todgers?” I assumed that a todger was slang for a penis.

“Mate, they like bellends that are crooked, small, medium, large, long, curved, black, white, Mexican, it doesn’t matter as long as it’s got two balls swinging, and it fits in their gobby mouths. These randy sluts will polish any knob presented for a taste of cock sauce,” Archie said as if it was an insult and he was disappointed in his sisters.

“If it’s just a blowjob, I wouldn’t say no,” Betty admitted but added defensively, “I’ve turned down men who wanted to shag me though plenty of times.”

“When?” Archie asked – “if a man had a fiver and a hard pecker, you’d say no to taking a hard one up the arse?”

“I’ve never been buggered up the arse by a cock,” Betty reached behind herself and held her butt as if she was protecting it. “The biggest I’ve ever had in my bum was the garden hose and that was tonight.”

“You liked it though, didn’t you?” Archie asked with a knowing sneer.

Betty released her butt cheeks and looked down, her cheeks still blushing. “It was exciting, but a bit painful. Once it was up my arse, it wasn’t so bad. If you are going to give us more enemas, take your time and don’t be so rough.”

“Yeah, Mister Dalton was gentle, but you just rammed the hose up our arsehole,” Veronica agreed. She wrinkled her nose in disgust as she thought back about her experience.

“I’ve walked into your room when you were having a rough fiddle with your dirty bums,” Archie countered that they were being overly critical of him. “You didn’t complain when the hose was filling your cracks, and you were getting all the attention from Mister Dalton and the neighbor. Fine, I won’t give you an enema again. It was like jamming a pool cue into a pint of mushy peas, and didn’t do anything for me.”

“We didn’t say you couldn’t put the hose in our bums,” Betty replied sweetly. “Just maybe grease up our backsides before you take us outside. It was fun, and you are right – it wasn’t particularly pleasurable to you, but I’d like a chance to redeem myself. I’d never tried to hold back a tide of water in my bum before. I didn’t know that was even possible. The pressure slowly building up in my backdoor and then blasting out – while you lot watch me was hot.”

I was amazed that Betty said it was exciting – I assumed they had simply endured it. “What did you think of it, Veronica?”

“Don’t make me blush,” her cheeks were red as she looked down with embarrassment “Yeah, I mean it was proper fun, and I am still tingling in my backside from the feeling. Are you going to tell Mum every detail of the game or just that we were puppies?”

“Why would I keep any of the details from your mum?” I asked, accidentally saying Mum instead of Mom because it felt more natural to use their terms by this point in the evening.

“She knows we like to play outside naked in the mud and get dirty with Mister Archie, but we’ve never done anything quite that extreme outside. She may say we can’t keep doing it because it’ll stretch out our bums.”

“Mum’s probably going to be mad that you let us have orgasms; and masturbate in the kitchen, she’s not keen on girls having a wank whenever we like,” Betty clarified that was the real reason Veronica was reluctant for her mother to know.

“Mum’s going to find out if she steps outside when I give you enemas in the future, but if you complain I am too rough on your stretched-out starfishes and don’t treat your fart-makers like dainty flowers, or pooh flies out of your bums and hits me on the shoes then I am going to just stick with having you eat mudpies and leave it at that.”

“You eat mudpies?” I asked.

“Yeah, Mister Archie hoses off a section of the yard; and puts us face down in the mud and makes us grovel like piggies. We call it eating mudpies, but we don’t actually eat mud, not much of it, anyway,” Betty admitted with chagrin.

“What kind of games do you play with your sister? Do you give her enemas in the yard?” My cousin Archie asked eagerly. He clearly expected me to do something very debauched and deviant to my older sister.

“We are a bit too old to play in the backyard,” I admitted. My sister was already out of high school, but she had never played with me in the backyard – at least as far as I could recall.

“What games did you use to play, Mister Dalton? How long can our cousin Janis hold an enema back for?” Veronica asked excitedly – ready to measure herself against a cousin she’s never met.

“Oh, the enemas?” I pretended that it was a regular thing at my house. I’d seen enema bottles for sale in drug stores, but had no idea how they were used. “She gets those in the bathroom, and she has to hold them for five minutes – makes her belly proper swell up like a piggy,” I said in a faux-British accent that didn’t quite land as authentic.

The girls and Archie laughed about it though. “You are taking the piss?” Veronica laughed hysterically about it. “Five minutes? On a timer? There is no way, her arse would explode long before that!”

“Lots of practice, and my sister has a bottomless, wide, arse hole,” I said. I imagined my sister’s angry face leering at me for daring to theorize.

“It’s probably stretched out like a drainage ditch by now, she’s older than you slags, so she’s probably been buggered nine ways to Sunday,” Archie theorized about my sister.

“Let’s get off my sister and make room for all the lads that are having a go with her tonight. Why do you think she couldn’t be here to babysit?” I laughed at my own joke.

“Do you think our cousin could babysit us?” Veronica asked with the tone of someone who was turned on by the idea. “Does she prefer cunnies to cock?”

“Do you?” I asked, hoping that I wasn’t blushing as I thought about my sister’s reaction to any of this.

“Every female babysitter we’ve ever had makes the girls lick their cunny before the night is over,” Archie admitted. “We call it story-time.”

“Story time?” I asked.

“Aye, older women are just as horny as us younger girls; they like little tongues on their clits just as much as we do. They tuck us in bed, and as a courtesy, we usually kiss their cunnies. We never get babysat by attractive young women, though – so it’s always old biddies with grey-haired gashes who want us to snog their fannies as a favor before they leave for the night.”

“Does your mum ... er ... mom ... er mum, know you go down on your babysitter?” I asked nervously.

The girls and Archie found my discomfort to be endearing and amusing. They didn’t see anything wrong with what they did at the end of the night – so they found it charming that I was so befuddled.

“Don’t worry, they’ll gobble your knob if that’s what you are after,” Archie declared bluntly.

“When our brother says we are made to do a little fanny feasting on our babysitter, that’s not quite true. We enjoy licking quim almost as much as we do a little cock gargling; it’s just. Usually they aren’t young and lovely and taste like cod that’s been left out in the sun for a few days,” Veronica clarified, her blue eyes twinkling mischievously.

“It’d be nice if they return the favor, but they never do,” Betty admitted with a look like she was starved for sexual satisfaction.

“You think that old Mrs. Grundy would let you sit your dripping quim on her face, do you?” Archie asked incredulously.

“Wait, I thought Mrs. Grundy was the prude who wanted you to bathe with your clothes on,” I asked, remembering my Aunt’s explanation about past babysitters.

“Aye, we tried to seduce her, but she wouldn’t have any of it,” Veronica admitted.

“Wait, I thought she was in your room for hours when she babysat. You mean to tell me she was reading you Paddington bear and giving you a proper tuck in?” Archie seemed skeptical.

“She lectured us on how we were amoral sluts,” Betty explained like she wished the dour old woman had wanted more.

“Wasted words on dirty harlots like you two,” Archie shrugged it off as the credits on Johnny Carson rolled. “Oh quite, I’ve missed the entire show talking about how you two gobble girl’s piss flaps as a hobby.”

“Sorry, Mister Archie,” Betty and Veronica apologized and asked while feigning yawns “Do you want to read us a bedtime story, Mister Dalton?”

“Go on then; get your cock drained. I am sure these two naughty cows talking about eating out old women has made your pecker hard as a rock, yeah?” Archie joked sarcastically.

“I don’t want to take advantage of my position as babysitter,” I began to mumble and blush. I didn’t want to seem like a horny pervert, but at the same time I was conflicted – the girls were hot. I felt put on the spot because it was obvious that my cousins meant to suck my dick, and everyone in the room knew it.

It occurred to me that my cousins processed the world a little like horny guys might – they liked sex with older guys the same way I would have liked the idea of sex with older girls. I just couldn’t get over my bias that girls don’t usually seem so wanton and horny.

“We’ve been noticing your bulge all night; it’s a wonder you don’t have blue balls in the morning,” Veronica stood up and took my hand. She still wore the blue dog collar she had on from earlier.

“I am your cousin, so it probably wouldn’t be proper,” I said as Betty took my other hand insistently to lead me to her room.

“It sounds funny when you try to talk like us,” Betty observed with a giggle that I had been picking up her British accent. “I don’t know why anyone would want to sound like a daft British twit from Surrey, the American accent is so much sexier,” Betty said, trying but failing to talk like she was from America.

“You may as well go with them and flash your pud and let them give it a loving snog and a tug,” Archie suggested without making eye contact with me. “If you don’t tuck them in, they’ll whinge until they see you again that you ignored them like Brian Wingate, and as far as being their cousin – I don’t think that matters much to them. They’ll snog each other’s quims just as readily as they will have a lick of your pecker.”

“We don’t,” Betty blushed profusely – finally, there was something that genuinely embarrassed her.

“I’ve caught you two waggling your grubby little fingers in each other’s gashes like a couple of third-rate street performers performing a Punch and Judy show; don’t tell me you don’t swap spit when you are sharing that filthy little bed of yours.”

“Fair enough,” Betty admitted with the look of someone who was truly mortified. “We have a go now and again with each other, but it’s not like we are full-on lezzy for each other or anything,” she said, looking at the floor – also wearing the pink dog collar and nothing else.

“Your sisters can’t help the fact that they are horny dimwits,” I said to Archie. It felt wrong to insult my cousins like that. I had teased them all night, but I hadn’t used a term like dimwits before. They didn’t protest; if anything, the girls gripped my hands more tightly.

“Please don’t tell mum about that bit, okay? She’s not keen on sisters sharing spit,” Veronica pleaded with me. “She will look the other way when we have a tussle and tickle one another, but the last time she caught us going at it together, she lit our asses ... arses ... up like an American Fourth of July...” Veronica said, correcting herself with a giddy laugh. “You’ve got me saying asses, like an American, now.”

“It sounds so silly, doesn’t it? Asses?” Betty mused as she led me down the hallway with her sister to her room.

“It sounds naughtier than arse,” Veronica admitted as she walked into her room. I started to close the door, but they told me that they weren’t allowed to close it. I stepped into their cramped little bedroom, barely bigger than a laundry closet. The walls pressed in close, giving the whole space a tight, suffocating feel. Against one wall sat a tiny blue bed, the mattress single-sized and barely enough for a grown adult to stretch out on. It looked neat enough, but small—almost childish in size.

A short, rickety dresser stood in the corner, its surface bare except for a few scuff marks and a single stray sock. The closet was half-open, revealing a small handful of hanging clothes, some skirts, a couple of blouses, nothing excessive. But on the carpet, carelessly tossed near the foot of the bed, were a few pairs of panties—not exactly dirty, but not exactly put away either. The girls bent over and quickly apologized as they picked them up and stuffed them in one of the dressers without sorting them. “We were meant to clean our room, but we didn’t get a chance tonight!”

Above the bed, a lone painting of a saint stared down, its colors faded with time, the frame crooked as if it had been knocked loose and never fixed. The whole room felt functional, stripped-down—no real decorations, no personal clutter. Just small, spare, and lived-in.

“Who is that in the picture?”

“Saint Edward the Confessor,” Veronica acted as if I should know that. “Not much of a king, not much of a warrior,” gazing up at the painting, her voice almost wistful. “He was a saint, after all. A man of faith, of righteousness. He sat, listened, forgave. Took in every wicked little secret, every shameful whisper, and still—he remained good. A man to be served, to be obeyed, to be worshipped.”

Her fingers traced absentmindedly along the edge of the frame hung on the wall, a small, self-effacing smile tugging at her lips. “I suppose back then, women knew their place better. Confessing, repenting, serving—on their knees, not out of defiance, but devotion. Not that we’re much different now, really. In our little village in Surrey, Saint Edward is the patron of our church.”

“Women sin, and we need to be put in our place and confess for the naughty things we do,” Betty added, fondling her breasts as she did while looking at me. “Aunt Sheridan’s picture above the bath tells us you were probably raised to believe the same things, yeah? That girls need watching over. That we can’t help ourselves, really. Always getting caught up in our own wicked little urges, always needing someone to set us straight.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. I felt like the girls were laying it on thick, but it seemed like they genuinely believed what they were telling me. I started to sweat.

She sighed, almost amused at herself, fingers idly toying with a damp strand of hair. “It’s not like we mean to be trouble; it is just our nature, we are too silly to make the right choices, too greedy not to take what we shouldn’t, and far too weak to resist when we know better. I suppose that’s why men like him existed, yeah? To keep girls like us in line, make sure we remember our place.”

Veronica added “Not that discipline ever really works. The more we get spanked, the more we misbehave, the more we need it,” she admitted with a twinkle in her eyes. “You aren’t interested in ancient history though, are you, Mister Dalton?”

“I was just testing your knowledge of the Saints,” I lied awkwardly and told them to get ready for bed. I was genuinely trying to resist my incredible desire to fuck both of them. They were so self-effacing, and being alone with them in their room was making me so horny. I felt guilty about my desires because they were my cousins, and I was supposed to be babysitting them. I knew they’d probably let me go that far with them – but it felt like I’d be taking advantage of them.

“Do we have to put on our nighties, or may we sleep in the nude?” Betty asked excitedly.

“Oh yes, can we, Mister Dalton?” Veronica echoed the request, asking if she could continue to wear her light blue collar to bed as well. “It matches my hair bow, and it’s so cute!”

“I almost forgot I had mine on,” Betty giggled as she touched the latex pink collar around her neck. She was already in the bed, bare-ass.

“Will I get in trouble for allowing you to sleep nude?” I asked them.

“She doesn’t usually mind if we are naked in the house,” Veronica told me as she climbed in the tiny bed with her sister. “It was exciting when you told us we had to strip at the door no matter who was here, but I knew mum wouldn’t allow it ALL the time, especially if Archie has his mates over.”

“You would like to be naked all the time if you could?” I asked as I watched the girls snuggle into the small bed together. I was surprised that they had pillows because they didn’t have a top sheet. It seemed like Betty and Veronica were ready to kiss and make out as soon as they got comfortable.

“Oh aye, wouldn’t it be grand to be naked all the time? back home in Surrey, we could strip off all day working on the farm, but Americans are a bit more prudish than we thought they would be. You have Rock and Roll and Hollywood, but a lot of people are uptight about girls being naked. We probably couldn’t even go topless around a public pool?”

“No, it’s not usually permitted,” I assured them.

“That’s so odd. I would understand if we had great big flappy hang-down udders, but we’re just girls. It’s not like anyone hasn’t seen nipples. Do you really think mine are sexy?” Veronica fiddled with her nipples, stroking them.

“You girls are trying to seduce me,” I said, backing away a few steps.

“You’ve been so sweet to us,” Betty smiled. “You could have been strict and paddled our arses for all the shite we pulled earlier; instead, you let us have fun playing at being a puppy, have pizza and biscuits, and gave us all this attention. We’ve no proper way to show gratitude, and we’ve been admiring your bulge – what would be the harm in letting us give your cock a few kisses?”

I could feel my heart in my throat. I’d never turned down a blowjob before because I’ve never been offered one. I was trying very hard to resist their offer, but it was growing increasingly difficult. I changed the subject.

“Your bed is so small, why don’t you have a sheet?” I asked.

“We have a sheet for our sweaty bums and snail trails,” Veronica pointed to the thin white sheet she was lying on with her sister.

“A top sheet?” I asked.

“That’s for men or women, we’re not permitted a top sheet,” Betty told me like it was so self-evident that it was just common sense. “We’d get up to all sorts of naughtiness if we could close our door and pull up the covers over our quims. Does your sister sleep with a sheet?”

“Aye, does cousin Janis have pizza and get to have biscuits every night?” Veronica asked excitedly.

I wanted to come clean with them and admit that my sister didn’t have any restrictions like that at home. They might eventually find out, but the looks on their face told me that they would be heartbroken if they lived a far more austere and disciplined life than my sister.

“It’s quite a bit stricter where I live. My sister sleeps in a dog cage in the living room, where we can watch to make sure she isn’t masturbating. We kick it to wake her up in case we want her to make us something in the middle of the night.”

I felt like my lie was so far over the top that they might call bullshit. Their pretty blue eyes grew wide with shock and disbelief. “Is she allowed to be naked ALL of the time then?” Betty’s tone suggested she was jealous – not sympathetic to her cousin’s plight.

“She doesn’t have a choice in the matter, we keep her naked, so she has no privacy, and we make her shave her quim.” I said – using the British word for pussy.

“Completely bald?” Veronica seemed aghast but at the same time excited. I saw her hand instinctively dip down to her pussy.

“Aye,” I said before realizing I sounded ridiculous. “We don’t want her getting uppity, and it’s meant to keep her cunny on display at all times – so we can ridicule how big and fat it is.”

“You and your father?” Betty asked.

“My father, my brother, any man that comes over. The repair man was over at my house fixing my television and I asked him if he had ever seen a gash as fat and wide as my sister’s cunny, and made her hold it apart for his amusement,” I lied. I was turning myself on with this outlandish tale of unnecessary humiliation and clearly shocking the girls.

“Why were you so nice to us then?” Betty asked. Her fingers ran down to her pussy, diddling herself softly.

“Would you rather I treat you like my sister?” I replied.

“I wouldn’t prefer to be made to hold my cunny open wide for a television repair man while he has a laugh about how fat it is,” Betty admitted, clearly taking me at my word for how things were at my house. I was probably going to hell for my lies. “I’ve always wanted to shave my fanny like mum does, but I didn’t know it was meant to humble a girl. I thought it would be sexy.”

“It would be far less sweaty not to have a thicket of brown hairs covering my quim,” Veronica added. “We appreciate the restraint you showed. Archie’s never taken much interest in us, but tonight he really gave us a hard time. If he knew how it was for your sister, he’d probably want that for us.”

“Would your mum allow it?” I asked, using the word mum naturally for mom.

“I don’t properly know, Mister Dalton,” Betty admitted. “When you told us your sister slept in a dog cage, I got excited. I think it would be novel for a few nights, and I’m sure it’d make us appreciate this little bed we’ve got to share all the more. It sounds like you treat her more like a jester to be held up to ridicule and a family pet than a sister though.”

“What’s the difference?” I asked as if I really believed there was none.

“Aye, we’ve got to be better sisters for Mister Archie. Mum warned us that Aunt Sheridan is far stricter and doesn’t tolerate the kind of nonsense we pull,” Veronica added.

“Poor cousin Janis,” Betty shook her head sympathetically “She doesn’t have a sister to share the humiliation with. I don’t think I could take the constant teasing if it were just me, and I had TWO brothers to have a laugh at my fat fanny and little tits.”

Betty wasn’t terrified, but she looked nervous -as if she was imagining a life of discipline in the fictional household I had described.

“What do you mean? I bet you would love the attention,” I smiled. “We love our sister, we just have to keep her in her place, and sometimes that means paddling her arse and knocking her ego down a peg or two.”

I moved closer to the girls and kissed them both on the forehead, resisting the temptation to do more than brush their nipples with my hands – making it seem like an accident. “I know you want to suck on my cock, but just as I tell Janis when she begs for it - you haven’t earned it, and you need to behave yourself. I want you two sluts to go to sleep and not stay up all night kissing and wanking off. I’ll be by to check on you while you sleep, and if I catch you – then you’ll be strung up by your quims in the kitchen like Scarecrows until your Mum decides you’ve learned your lessons,” I warned them sweetly. I had no idea how I’d manage such an arrangement, and I had no intention of even attempting to keep my promise.

The girls didn’t complain or call after me as I stepped out of the door, flicking the light off behind me as I left. I was tempted to go back in and get my blowjob; or do even more with my cousins. “I expect you to have your toothbrushes up your arses at breakfast tomorrow and confess to your mum every naughty thing that you did like she was Saint Edward.”

I was conflicted about being a good cousin who didn’t take advantage of horny young girls that wanted to please me. They told me that they thought they enjoyed sucking dick and saw it as a way to express their gratitude for a fun night. I felt foolish as I entered my Aunt’s room and undressed to get into her bed. It smelled good – like my Aunt’s perfume and hair spray.

I usually slept in pajamas, and I assumed that she’d come home shortly and take me back home. I decided I’d jerk off, and that would help me with the constant sexual thoughts about my cousins. It didn’t.

The first time I whacked off, I came so quickly that I was glad I had refused to oblige my cousins. I would have shot my load in under thirty seconds. I remembered them saying something derogatory about guys

who cum too quickly. I cleaned myself up, and had a much longer, more exhausting “wank” – smiling as I tried to take stock of the many British vulgarities and crass words I had learned that evening.

I consoled myself that if everything went well, I’d have another opportunity to babysit my cousins and the next time, I may not feel as conflicted about using their pretty mouths as a cum receptacle. I concluded that my decision not to take them up on their offer to go down on me had more to do with being bashful than it did with any desire not to take advantage of them.

If the girls really sucked cock as frequently as they claimed, then I shouldn’t have felt guilty about it. The simple fact was that I was still a virgin even though I was a Senior in high school, and I had always been too shy to approach girls and ask them out on dates. I’d never thought to ask girls as young as Betty and Veronica out, but I wouldn’t have approached them – they seemed too cute for the likes of me.

It seemed surreal that they would care what I thought about them and even desire me. I wondered if the girls would gush about me the way they had Brian Winsome when I was gone.

I also didn’t have a car, and I didn’t think my mother would loan me hers. Janis had a car, and if she were really the trampy slut that I treated as a house pet, I would have just taken hers. However, that was an entirely fictional scenario, and I lamented the fact that soon I’d be dropped back into the “real world,” where women are treated with equal rights and permitted modesty.

I was tempted to go and check on my cousins to see if I could catch them while they were masturbating.

The simple fact was that I was tired after whacking off twice and afraid I may have to follow through on my promise to “string them up by their quims,” and I had no inkling what they would involve. I decided to masturbate furiously one last time. I wanted to empty my balls of semen completely, and along with it would go all my nasty, naughty, depraved thoughts about the things I might have done with my cousins tonight.

I didn’t finish masturbating for the third time, and I don’t remember falling asleep in my Aunt’s bed. I had the nastiest wet dreams of my life, full of filthy thoughts and perverted desires -my cock buried deep in a wet pussy.