Just A Glance

It started with just a glance one day. I grew up around him and his children, my step cousins, but never before had I felt like this towards him.

We had just arrived and there he was just walking around after setting up his tent. I went to hug him, but before I could our eyes connected and all I could do was smile. He smiled back easily and we hugged. I might have hugged him a moment too long, but I did not think he noticed.

* * *

I was wrong, I told myself. I did not just catch him stealing glances at me. Oh but hell, I knew I wanted it to be true. I told myself this was wrong, feeling this way, very wrong. This was different than my other older boyfriends. Sure they were years older than me, but not as old as he was; and they were not my family.

But, I reasoned with myself, he was not old, just older; and he was not blood related to me, only by marriage he was my uncle.

With that reasoning (I also conveniently forgot his failing marriage) I went into a subdued flirt mode. It was small things here and there, a quick smile in his direction, sitting near him, or on the boat I sat in front of him bending occasionally in possibly sensual ways. The icing on the cake was when I asked him to help me tie my bikini top.

* * *

I held the front of the top while he took the strings. As he tied it his fingers brushed against my back, giving me noticable goosebumps. He noticed the scar on the middle of my back and asked how I got it; I was about to explain as he started tracing it. I shivered and he asked if I was cold. I blushed and told him not exactly, all the while his fingering was still running along my back, lower and lower. I turned to face him, my mouth open to say something, when I heard both of our names being called, being told to hurry up.

* * *

I knew of course then I had him. Or so I had thought. I could tell there was still quite a bit of hesitance in both of us. This was the epitome of forbidden fruit. There would be no passionate kisses in the night this time, not in our story. You must think if that's true, then how much of a story is it? It is our story of almosts, could have beens, maybes, and a true understanding of forbidden love.