[INCEST] Anon and Cousin Vinyl Celebrate Thanksgiving


                                            >As soon as you enter the room, you can tell something is wrong.

                                            >Your family is setting on a long, thin table that's normally reserved for occasions like this.

                                            >The only reason your parents keep it is because they insist on hosting every holiday dinner they can get their hands on.

                                            >Your mom is so obsessed with it - you'd think the family honour was on the line with how squirrelly she gets when she goes shopping for that season's enormous dinner.

                                            >The seating layout is the same and has been for years, ever since your great-uncle Algie (on your mother's side) got into a screaming match with your great-grandfather (on your father's side) about the legality of a chess move.

                                            >Nobody remembers what the move even was anymore, but they both vowed never to speak to each other again, and so their seats as far apart as they can get.

                                            >...maybe that's why your dad bought such a long table, actually.

                                            >So on your far left is great-uncle Algie (though he hates it when you call him that to his face, and prefers his full name of 'Algernon') and the rest of your mother's family.

                                            >On the far right is great-grandpa, with the rest of HIS family crowding around him.

                                            >Sometimes you think they all took sides after that fallout.

                                            >Sometimes you think they're deliberately acting as a barrier between the two old bastards for when the wine gets brought out and everyone forgets how much they can drink before they start doing stupid things.

                                            >As usual, your space is right in the middle.

                                            >Right next to your cousin, Vinyl.

                                            >Aaaaand one look at her face makes you realize why your spider senses were tingling.

                                            >She is fucking HIGH.

                                            >Fuck, no wonder your aunt and uncle look so damn uncomfortable.

                                            >You'd be too if you couldn't keep your daughter sober for one family holiday.

                                            >Then again, everyone's about to get drunk, so it's a bit silly to be upset that Vinyl beat them to it.

                                            >Though it's pretty funny to see your crotchety old aunt looking like she suspects she just sat down in cat vomit but doesn't want to get up and check while everyone is around to see.

                                            >Vinyl catches your eyes, and a slightly dopey (hue) smile splits her face.

                                            >She slams one of her hands onto the table (to get your attention?) and waves at you frantically with the other.

                                            >"Heeeey~!" she yells, "Cousin!  Get over here already!  You almost missed dinner!"

                                            >Yeah.

                                            >God forbid you miss this year's train-wreck.

                                            >You force a smile on your face and slowly walk around the stupidly-long table.

                                            >To the ignorant observer, you look like a man walking to his execution.

                                            >Because you know what's going to happen as soon as you sit down.

                                            >Because it's the same thing that happens every time you host a big stupid dinner with your big stupid family, which happens at LEAST three times a big stupid year.

                                            >Cousin Vinyl is going to hit on you.

                                            >You don't get it.

                                            >You're not some sort of beautiful Adonis of a man.

                                            >You're not particularly funny or witty.

                                            >Hell, you aren't even interested in your cousin that way (thank christ), so you KNOW you aren't sending off signals to her that you want to bump too-closely-related uglies with her.

                                            >So why does she do this?

                                            >You slide into your chair, ignoring the way the aged and decrepit wood of your 50-year-old-only-used-for-special-occasions chair creaks.

                                            >You know, the one that belonged to your grandma before she passed away.

                                            >The ones that grandpa built 8 trillion years ago when he was slightly less of an old man.

                                            >Back before things like glue or nails (or standards) existed.

                                            >The chair wobbles as though it's not sure if it wants to continue existing much longer, but it eventually puts aside its' existential dread and bears your weight for another dinner.

                                            >You smile woodenly at your cousin, and she grins widely back at you.

                                            >"Well hello to you too, handsome," she purrs, "What's a guy like you doing in a place like this?"

                                            >You groan in the back of your head, worried that your smile just served to encourage her.

                                            >You can't just tell her to fuck off because she's family, and family is important to your, well... family.

                                            >Being family was enough to keep Vinyl from getting kicked out for being high at family dinners, so you're more likely to get in trouble than she is if you don't put up with her.

                                            >Your mom would always just sigh and tell you to smile and nod for a few hours, and then she'll go home.

                                            >It's like she's convinced there's a prize for hosting as many family holiday dinners as humanly possible.

                                            >Or maybe she's trying to get into great-grandpa AND great-uncle Algie's will.

                                            >Who knows?

                                            "Oh, you know," you say, chuckling uncomfortably, "I live here."

                                            >Vinyl laughs like you just told her the funniest joke in the world.

                                            >And oh god, people are staring.

                                            >Oh, why didn't you say you had the flu?

                                            >Why didn't you tell your father you were dying?!

                                            >"And that's why I keep coming back, cousin!" she giggles, giving your shoulder a shove, "I can't get enough of your-woah!"

                                            >Unfortunately, the chair you were sitting on wasn't done debating whether or not chair-suicide was a preferable alternative to having your ass sitting on it.

                                            >Because with a creak, a whine, and a loud -CRACK!-, your thousands-of-years-old chair finally gives up the ghost, and you find yourself sitting stunned in a pile of kindling.

                                            >Everyone's staring at you.

                                            >Your mom looks exasperated.

                                            >Your father... looks like he's about to start laughing.

                                            >He's looking away to hide his grin, but his shoulders are shaking with suppressed laughter.

                                            >One of HIS cousins is sitting beside him on the side he's facing away from, and she apparently thinks he's trying not to cry.

                                            >She puts on a sympathetic grimace and pats him on the shoulder, which just makes your dad nearly choke.

                                            >Your dad always was kind of a lovable jackass.

                                            >"Woah!"  Thin, pale hands grab you by the shoulder and hoist you up with surprising strength. "Holy shit, Anon!

                                            "Y-Yeah, I'm alri-"

                                            >"What did you do?!"

                                            >...

                                            "Oh, fuck right off."

                                            >>"Anonymous!  Language, young man!"

                                            >And now you have attracted the attention of your mother.

                                            >And judging by the look on her face, you've turned yourself into a scapegoat for her anger at the chair collapsing.

                                            >It's not like she doesn't know that the chairs are shit.

                                            >She even told you that she uses them because they're fancy and have been in the family for decades.

                                            >But this gives you an out.

                                            >How can you sit down for dinner WHEN THERE'S NO FANCY CHAIR FOR YOU TO SIT IN?

                                            >Checkmate, atheists.

                                            "Oopsie!" you say, trying to sound remorseful, "Looks like there's no place for me to sit."

                                            >You do your best to put on a frowny face.

                                            "I don't want to ruin things any more than I already did, so how 'bout I clean this up and leave?  I'm sorry, every-"

                                            >"NAAAAW!" yells your cousin, nearly deafening you.

                                            >Your aunt (who is sitting right next to Vinyl) jumps, not prepared for the volume of her daughter's voice.

                                            >"Anon, babe, you can just take MY seat!"

                                            >Vinyl gets up and swings around the chair, ignoring the ominous creaking of the equally old and spindly artifact, and pats the seat invitingly.

                                            >>"Ahem!"

                                            >Your mom clears her throat and puts a big, fake smile on her face.

                                            >>"Vinyl, that's very thoughtful of you.  Anonymous?"

                                            >The smile drops a bit.

                                            >>"Be a dear and take her seat."

                                            >Fuck.

                                            >"And I can sit on your lap so's I can eat your mom's delicious dinner!"

                                            >FUCK.

                                            >Your mom smiles, preening under the praise of your cousin.

                                            >And damn it if flattery isn't the best way to get anything done with your mom.

                                            >>"What a lovely idea, Vinyl," your mom simpers, "I believe Anon was just unlucky enough to get the broken chair."

                                            >She grins winningly at the rest of the family.

                                            >>"It's always been a bit of a game of Musical Chairs when this family gets together."

                                            >Everyone chuckles politely at your mom's not-joke, and Vinyl gives you the heaviest set of bedroom eyes you've ever been on the receiving end of.

                                            >W-Wew, lad.

                                            >Maybe you can pretend you've got a giant splinter in your ass and that you need to lay down, or something.

                                            >>"Anonymous?"

                                            >Your mom is glaring at you, and you realize you've been standing there, staring at the chair like a jackass for nearly 10 seconds.

                                            "R-Right."

                                            >God fucking dammit.

                                            >You slowly ease your way into the chair, and grudgingly acknowledge that the damn thing doesn't creak or wiggle anywhere near as much as yours did.

                                            >With an excited whoop, Vinyl spins around and plants her rump RIGHT onto your crotch.

                                            >You exhale as though your soul is trying to leave your body through your mouth, but play it off as a cough when your aunt gives you a dirty look.

                                            >That bitch has no legs to stand on when it comes to judging other people's children.

                                            >"Aww yeah, Anon," crows Vinyl, wriggling her round ass on your dick-place, "This is gonna be the best Thanksgiving EVER!"

                                            >You would have thought Vinyl's ass would be boney.

                                            >You had honestly believed that her job as a DJ would have left her just a bit too active to be anything other than skin and bones.

                                            >Hell, you can see her ribs when she visits your house out of nowhere and quote-unquote "forgets" to wear a bra under her thin wife-beater!

                                            >But apparently with drugs comes the munchies, and your cousin has a pleasant cushion she brings around with her to sit on.

                                            >You would't call it fat, but oh my GOD is it ever something.

                                            >...

                                            >You're thinking about your cousin's ass, while she's sitting on your lap.

                                            >This is not appropriate.

                                            "So, uh... Vinyl," you mutter as conversation picks up, trying to make things less awkward, "What've you been up to lately?"

                                            >"Hmmm..." she hums contemplatively, wriggling around on your lap as she does so, "Not a lot, hot stuff."

                                            >God dammit, why with the names?!

                                            >"I've just been doing my gigs and, uh... 'enjoying' the fruits of my labour." she twists around so that she's riding you side-saddle, and hooks an arm around your neck.  "Y'dig?"

                                            >She winks at you and then peers down towards her chest.

                                            >Reflexively, you follow her eyes and-fuck.

                                            >FUCK.

                                            >She's not wearing a bra.

                                            >AGAIN.

                                            >You snap your eyes back up to her face, but Vinyl is already staring at you.

                                            >And she's grinning like the smug fucker she is.

                                            >Does this bitch even OWN a bra?!

                                            >Because you've never seen her wear one!

                                            >"I'm always looking forward to your mom's dinners, you know," she purrs, dragging a finger down your chest, "I get to see my favourite cousin in the whole wide world."

                                            >...aww.

                                            >That's actually kinda sweet.

                                            >Maybe this won't actually be so-

                                            >The rest of her fingers joint he first one, and she suddenly drags her hand down so that she's very rapidly approaching your crotch.

                                            >"The one who I'm about 90% sure has a big, fat dic-"

                                            >>"Vinyl!"

                                            >Vinyl sighs dramatically and reluctantly removes her hand as your aunt - Vinyl's mother - hisses at her.

                                            >Thank you, aunt Allegro, for being the voice of reason for once in your lif-

                                            >>"Not in front of everyone!"

                                            >...

                                            >You fucking what?

                                            >Vinyl harumphs grumpily.

                                            >"Okay, mom," she says, putting odd emphasis on 'mom', "I'll keep it in my pants until after dinner."

                                            >What is this.

                                            >What does that even mean?

                                            >Aunt Allegro couldn't have meant that; that was just cousin Vinyl being a shit again and interpreting things the way she wants to.

                                            >Right?

                                            >R-RIGHT?!

                                            >You catch your aunt's eye, and she winks at you.

                                            >Then she shrugs and mouths "what are you going to do" at you like the issue is that she just spilled her mug of coffee, and not that her daughter is stranger-dangering her own cousin!

                                            >Oh god, you're going to get violated, aren't you?

                                            >You look around the table wildly, but everyone seems to be content to pretend that none of this is happening.

                                            >Ugh.

                                            >The family's solution to two members feuding?

                                            >Put them on opposite sides of the table and plaster big smiles on your faces.

                                            >Someone forgets to bring some sort of meal contribution?

                                            >Laugh it off and pretend it's okay (but give that person smaller portions of food).

                                            >Your chair breaks and your cousin sits on your lap?

                                            >Pretend that shit ain't happening and do your best to fool everyone else into thinking everything is okay, because that's how your family fucking rolls.

                                            >Your mom brings out the dinner plates right around then.

                                            >Great-uncle Algie gets extra turkey with mashed potatoes but NO gravy or cranberry sauce, since the doctor said he's supposed to be careful about his cholesterol.

                                            >Your great-grandpa only has a little bit of turkey, but he's loaded up on stuffing, gravy, peas, and biscuits so that he can cut one in half and make some sort of Thanksgiving sandwich.

                                            >Everyone politely thanks your mom as she puts the plates out, and conversation dies down to a low murmur as utensils scrape against plates.

                                            >Your mom finally makes her way over to you and places a single plate in front of you.

                                            "...mom?"

                                            >Your mom hums questioningly.

                                            "Is this my plate, or Vinyl's plate?"

                                            >Your mom titters behind a hand.

                                            >>"It's BOTH of your plate, dear," she giggles, "It would look horribly out of place if I placed two dinner plates together, so I put a little bit extra of everything onto just one of them."

                                            >She reaches out and boops you on the nose.

                                            >>"Now be nice and share with your cousin, Anonymous~."

                                            >As your mom walks away Vinyl repeats the gesture, still sitting sideways on your lap with her arm wrapped around your shoulder..

                                            >"Yeah, Anon," she purrs, pressing her finger against the tip of your nose and holding it there, "Share with your cousin~"

                                            >Your cousin stares into your yes, blushing and biting her lower lip.

                                            >"You'll save some of that-" her eyes dart down to your crotch for a split-second, and her cheeks grow a bit rosier. "-sauce for your favourite cousin, won't you?"

                                            >...you can't dump her off your lap and leave.

                                            >One, it would ruin your family's image and your parents (or at least your mom; dad still thinks this is hilarious) would be furious at you.

                                            >And two, your traitorous cock has betrayed you once more in your darkest hour, and you can feel it pressing against cousin Vinyl's plump ass.

                                            >And she can feel it too, since you're wearing thin slacks and SHE'S wearing those dumb purple yoga pants she loves.

                                            >No undies for her, of course.

                                            >You just chuckle nervously and try not to spill stuffing all over yourself as you bring your fork to your mouth.

                                            >After a few more minutes, your mom breaks out the wine.

                                            >The good stuff.

                                            >The stuff that required BOTH your parents working extra hours for two months to afford.

                                            >Not because it's old 1700s crap, but because you need a LOT of it.

                                            >Like, a LOT.

                                            >And a LOT of decent wine costs a LOT of money.

                                            >Think of it this way: you have one of those tables that has racks to hold bottles of wine, right?

                                            >It's empty for most of the year until these holiday dinners come 'round, and then there are so many bottles of wine that it almost can't hold them all.

                                            >Hell, once your mom has had a few glasses, she's amicable enough to (slightly sloppily) pour you and Vinyl your own goblets of wine.

                                            >>"You be careful now, you two," she says with points of red on her cheekbones, "I'm trusting you to behave yourselves."

                                            >You gulp the wine down in four big gulps, hoping that you can get through this dinner without either busting a nut in your pants, or having to point out on the doll where the bad woman touched you.

                                            >Jesus, no wonder your cousin gets high all the time.

                                            >But your cousin is no fool.

                                            >As you idly munch away at dinner and try to keep Vinyl from molesting you too much, you watch her.

                                            >Her eyes dart around, uncharacteristically alert as she follows each rise of everyone's wine glasses, moving from table to mouth.

                                            >She peers at the growing pile of empty wine bottles pushed surreptitiously off into a dark corner.

                                            >And as more and more bottles of wine are consumed, your extended family gets louder and louder, and their attention wanes more and more from this one guy named Anonymous and his perverted cousin sitting on his lap.

                                            >Once your great-uncle Algie starts laughing much louder and more obnoxiously than his old age would suggest possible, Vinyl turns her attention back to you.

                                            >More than it was before, you mean.

                                            >But your cousin doesn't even touch her wine, save for the first polite sip she took before your mom turned her back and went back to her own seat.

                                            >In fact, she gave it to you just a few minutes ago; you obviously downed it because god knows you need all the help you can get right now.

                                            >As a result, you're a little bit tipsy.

                                            >Vinyl hogging most of the food on your plate didn't help, because now you have more wine than actual solid food in your stomach.

                                            >The room swims ever-so-slightly, and you aren't 100% sure where your hands are.

                                            >She swings around from her side-saddle position and straight-up straddles you, now sitting face-to-face with you.

                                            >Both of her arms wrap around your shoulders, and you can feel her breath hot on your lips.

                                            >"Hey, cousin," she whispers, resting her forehead on yours.

                                            >ohfuck

                                            "H-Hey yourself," you respond weakly, regretting drinking all that wine.

                                            >At the time, you didn't even care that it tasted like crap.

                                            >But now, you're wishing you listened to your body's natural protests.

                                            >"What's a sexy young man like you doing in a lame place like this?"

                                            >The roar of laughter and yelling fades into the background as Vinyl lowers her lips onto yours.

                                            >She kisses you gently, pulling away before kissing you again.

                                            >You can't even right now.

                                            >You're a bit drunk, you've got the weight of a girl on your lap, and your head is swimming more than it already is because of the unexpected kisses.

                                            >"You outta come back with me sometime."

                                            >Vinyl punctuates this sentiment with another kiss, and then pulls back just a bit.

                                            >To the untrained eye (or to the drunk uncle), you and Vinyl are just talking.

                                            >...while she sits on your lap.

                                            >Jesus, this fucking family.

                                            >Vinyl grins and begins to grind her hips against your lap.

                                            >Your dick, having been hard for the last hour, twitches as her ass rubs against it.

                                            >Her grin widens, and her blush deepens.

                                            >"I promise I can show you a real good time, 'cuz."

                                            >...Something's wrong.

                                            >You can't quite put your finger on it.

                                            >Damn this wine!

                                            >Damn you for being a lightweight!

                                            >What, is Vinyl so fucking high that the FUMES on her breath are enough to knock you for a loop or-

                                            >...

                                            >...you can't smell weed on Vinyl's breath.

                                            >You can't taste it on your lips.

                                            "Oh, my god."

                                            >Your cousin isn't high at all.

                                            >The realization must have shown on your face, because your cousin gets this big, dumb grin on her face as she stares at you with her sharp, aware eyes.

                                            >"It's a real shame what happened to your chair, huh?"

                                            >She winks at you.

                                            >"It's almost like those legs were made EXTRA-loose by accident when your mom asked me to drag them up from the basement."

                                            >Oh god.

                                            >Oh god, you're dealing with a mastermind, here.

                                            >A mastermind with a dirty mind and who wants to bump uglies with her own cousin!

                                            >Vinyl giggles and leans down to kiss you again, now grinding herself against you continuously.

                                            >You look around desperately with your eyes, but everyone else is too drunk and caught up in their own conversations to notice you.

                                            >One of your great-aunts catches your eye, but her gaze is unfocused and she quickly looks away without realizing what she's even looking at.

                                            >You're just drunk enough that the weight of Vinyl on your lap is too much for you to do anything with (vis a vis throwing her off), and for a split-second you wonder if you're gay for putting up this much resistance to a pretty girl kissing you.

                                            >Vinyl pulls away, looking surprised.

                                            >"You think I'm pretty?"

                                            >Oh god dammit, sometimes you babble when you panic.

                                            >"I've noticed you do, yeah."

                                            >You're still doing it?!

                                            >"You are."

                                            >FUCK

                                            >Vinyl, her features now softening just a little bit, leans down and whispers into your ear.

                                            >"Not yet, we aren't."

                                            "I-I need an adult..."

                                            >Vinyl kisses you once more, and [spoiler]you kiss her back.[/spoiler]

                                            >"I've been 18 for a few years, Anon," Vinyl says in between kisses, "I AM an adult."

                                            >The movement of her hips is more erratic now.

                                            >You can hear her panting as the two of you make out - or are YOU panting?

                                            >Your groin feels hot, and a distinct dampness is rubbing against the length of your pants-covered shaft.

                                            >Either you're dribbling precum like a faucet, or you aren't the only one who's excited about this.

                                            >And given that your cousin was the one who sat on your lap, began making out with you, and then started to grind against you... you get the feeling that Vinyl maybe might like this too.

                                            >Vinyl's movements grow jerkier and jerkier, and she stops kissing so in favour of just holding you against her body.

                                            >She lets out a series of muffled gasps, and you feel the dampness on your crotch get a bit, well... damper.

                                            >The realization that your cousin just came all over your crotch sets YOU off, and bite down onto Vinyls's shoulder to avoid moaning loudly.

                                            >You, unfortunately, ruin your underwear as you deposit the biggest load of cum you've ever made directly into your pants.

                                            >Speaking of pants, the two of you do your best to catch your breath as you pull apart.

                                            >Vinyl's blue hair is sweaty and matted to her forehead, and you can tell just from glancing down at her chest that those nipples could cut glass.

                                            >You're sure you're not doing much better, but Vinyl is smiling at you like your sweaty visage is the best thing she's ever seen.

                                            >Vinyl jumps suddenly, and you whip your head over to see that aunt Allegro is giving her a withering glare.

                                            >>"I said," she hisses, "Not in front of everyone!"

                                            >...

                                            >What is wrong with this family?

                                            >You're not sure what to say to her, but Vinyl saves you both the effort.

                                            >As your aunt goes back to her wine (taking a few decidedly-large gulps before refilling the glass), your cousin smiles down at you.

                                            >"Bedroom?"

                                            "GOD yes.  But..." Vinyl follows your eyes as you peer down at yourselves.

                                            >There's a dark stain on both of your crotches, but Vinyl's shirt looks long enough to double as a short skirt.

                                            >You, however, have a dress shirt on and there's no hope that you accidentally bought one that's two size too big.

                                            >Now how do you excuse yourself without making everyone think you jizzed your pants?

                                            >Vinyl hops off your lap, making you realize that you haven't been able to feel your toes for the last half-hour, and grabs your goblet of wine.

                                            >Without you ever noticing at the time, it was refilled.

                                            >...but you stopped drinking RIGHT before you and Vinyl started making out.

                                            >Whoever refilled it must have seen you two... y'know...

                                            >What is WRONG with your family?!

                                            >Quick as a whip, Vinyl douses your crotch with the wine, hiding the jizz stain.

                                            "Augh!  Dammit, Vinyl!"

                                            >Red wine will take FOREVER to get out that material!

                                            >...oh god, you've become your mother.

                                            >"What?" she asks teasingly, "Now I can just tell everyone you pissed yourself and that I need to help clean you up."

                                            "...that's stupid."

                                            >You point at the stain being formed on your pants AND your white shirt.

                                            "This is red, not yellow."

                                            >Vinyl shrugs, not looking concerned.

                                            >"I'll tell'em you're just very ill."

                                            >Before you can respond any further, Vinyl grabs you by the hand and yanks you out of your seat.

                                            >The chair doesn't make a sound as you relieve it of your weight, and you mutter an excuse to nobody in particular as she rushes you up the stairs.

                                            -------

                                            >You are Vinyl.

                                            >You've been clean for MONTHS, thanks to the efforts of your mother and father.

                                            >You wanted to keep up the party life, but your mom was scared for you.

                                            >She made you a promise, though.

                                            >If you can stay clean for six whole months, then she'll help you nab your crush.

                                            >That's right: your hot cousin, Anonymous.

                                            >You've hung out around party-types enough that you realize that normality is overrated, and that nobody really cares what other people do if it doesn't directly affect them.

                                            >Hell, you made out with your cousin at the dinner table and not even great-grandpa gave a shit.

                                            >It's a strange fucking world out there, and you gotta grab onto what you want with both hands and never ever let go.

                                            >And judging by what you felt through Anon's pants, you WILL be able to grab onto it with both hands.

                                            >Besides, cousins is legal in your state, so not even Johnny Law will care if you fuck.

                                            >And if things work out for a few years, maybe you can even convince this adorable goober to put a turkey in your oven and have your own two-person Thanksgiving celebration.

                                            >You can't be a mom if you're high all the time, after all.


                                            I'm a little iffy on the ending, so consider it non-canon if it's not your thing.  I really only put it in for the turkey pun, y'see.