Fixation copyright 2010 Sommer Marsden with December Ink

Originally appeared at Ruthie’s Club

Cover image/design copyright Sommer Marsden/December Ink 2010

by Sommer Marsden
originally appeared at Ruthie’s Club

Cousin John’s Birthday

I didn’t mean to notice. I mean, I was positively shocked when I saw it there. Hard, straining, obvious. Immediately, my stomach rolled over. I felt a little sick. But, right on the heels of this logical reaction came an illogical one. A forceful flood of moisture that instantly soaked the cotton crotch of my proper pink panties. I was turned on.

He was my father-in-law! Father-in-laws do not get hard-ons! They are not sexual! They are most assuredly asexual. I recalled the term from high school biology. Male family members are most definitely asexual creatures who should not, under any circumstances, be sporting wood at family functions. At least, this is how I had always seen it. Arousal and hot monkey-sex were not things that came to mind when I thought of Carl, my father-in-law.

But there it was. Big as life. Okay, not life. Big as ... Well, a rather respectable erection. My face flooded with heat and I quickly excused myself.

“Denise? You okay?” Thomas asked.

“Fine, fine.” I lied to my husband. “Just need to powder my nose.”

I didn’t powder my nose. I sat on a rather lovely lavender toilet-seat cover and got myself off in roughly sixty seconds, my fingers desperately whirling between my legs. Heart pounding, face flushed, hands shaking, I fixed my face and fluffed my hair. I had to be presentable when I rejoined the party. My pulse fluttered in my throat and I giggled softly. Right. That was over.

And it would never happen again.

No one suspected a thing when I rejoined the party. In fact, I received compliment after compliment on how my skin was glowing and my eyes were shining. Each compliment brought a mental flash of that hard cock straining against those gray slacks. And who that cock belonged to. And then what I had done. A fresh surge of arousal would sweep over me, and I’d feel my face bloom with heat again.

We all sang a rousing version of “Happy Birthday” to Cousin John. As the cake was being served, Thomas grabbed me and put his arm around my shoulder.

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