The climax

"Ahhhhhhhhh!!!" Heather sang, keeping that note like an trained soprano. A few birds flew away out of fear and confusion at the sound. "Oh, oh god!"

"Fuck, fuck, fucking hell!" Kurt growled unintelligibly, pistoning in her at a thunderous speed. The wet smack of abused flesh ticked between them like a metronome slowly running fast, matching Heather's impressively loud resonances.

Their symphony had gone on for some time now and had taken various forms, from Kurt hanging onto Heather like a ragdoll beneath him to Heather bouncing on him like a trampoline. Each cousin's genetic need for control in a sexual encounter fluctuated madly, and either felt they needed to prove to the other that they had to reign in the other with their own peculiar logic.

Heather, in the more objective estimate, had her reasons from the very beginning, that Kurt could not be left alone with a pussy without finding out a way to stick his cock into it, and apparently that proved more true than even she figured. She had been using this to her advantage though, and maybe by having a girl that fought back during sex would show Kurt that he can't **** himself on anyone and expect to completely win. Heather had a certain power over men with honed skill, and she could even sap Kurt.

Kurt, however, had been down this road many times before, with girls who liked to combat his advances and even tried to dominate him in the bedroom. He simply saw this as a defensive wall to tear down, and he had perfected a long repertoire of techniques to eventually conquer them. They would always break in the end, happily submitting to his cock, and as soon as that happened Kurt would discard them, his job done. His cousin would be no different, no matter how feisty she seemed to be, and he relished in the image of her being yet another cumslut. Just like all women to his misogynistic mind.

Heather now clambered onto top of him yet again, pushing his hands over his head and slipping her pussy over his cock once more. She took him with no help of her hands, and she grinned at his surprised face. Placing a hand on his chiseled chest, she leaned in and chomped down on one of his nipples. He yelped, forcing his hips up into her. She shrieked, her guard shaken just enough for Kurt to wrest control again. He threw her backwards on the grass, then flipped her over, leaving her prone ass in the air. With deft smoothness, he flipped up onto his knees and sheathed himself with renewed vigor. A scream got caught in Heather's throat, released only after Kurt spanked with a powerful crack of his palm.

"Cum damnit," Kurt sneered, watching his cock fade in a blur of motion. "Fucking cum you fucking whore!"

"Not. Before. You!" Heather replied in stilted speech. He head bounced with every thrust, splaying her long brown hair in dark waves. Her tits felt like they vibrated on their own accord with a pendulous swing that hurt so beautifully. Kurt couldn't resist taking a fistful, and Heather arched her back against him, reaching out for his blonde mop and pulling them by the roots.

Kurt felt that familiar swelling inside of him, the welling of his cum from his balls and into his erection. He yanked Heather's arms down and fell onto the ground. Now sitting in Kurt's lap, Heather freely pumped herself despite Kurt's restraints. Her own pressure slowly built as well, hardly contained as it was anyway, but she would be damned if her cum splashed his cock before his spewed into her depths.

Then Kurt did something Heather never expected, something that they never did in this entire ordeal. He snapped her head around to his and fiercely kissed her. A hot, lustful kiss with a forceful tongue that raked her teeth like a fireplace poker over hot coals. She detonated, roaring into his mouth and shaking on his cock. Breaking the kiss, she kept going, singing herself into another orgasm. She collapsed, a marionette with sliced strings, and felt Kurt's body heat seeping into her.

Reality eventually returned, the light of the late morning sun streaming through the trees. She blinked, mouth slack-jawed in awe, and listlessly moved an arm to her pussy.

Gravity was wrong, she realized when her arm refused to fall to her side, instead arcing through the air. Then she understood that she was laying down instead of sitting upright on Kurt's cock. Shifting her head slightly, she saw him passed out beneath her, some drool escaping his mouth and pooling on the grass. What a guy," she groaned in her thoughts. She also twitched at the fact that she came before Kurt, and the incredible amount of smugness he would generate from this. He conquered his own cousin, he would say, and he could have any woman he wanted. So much for that great sexual defeat... At least I sure as hell wore him out.*

Her hand found her cunt drenched and sticky, but sans her cousin's member, which she figured had deflated long ago. She winced as she pushed a finger into her, but became confused when she discovered a huge glob of Kurt's semen lodged in there. She unplugged her pussy and his essence flowed freely in a large river. Gently, she contracted herself, pushing more out, and in the end she dipped her fingers into the lake that had formed beneath both of their genitals.

Well, he did cum, and a lot, she mused. It might have been there for a bit too... A corner of her mouth ticked into a smile. If we didn't cum together, he certainly wasn't far behind, and definitely during my second orgasm. Too much for ya, eh Kurt dear?

Strength returned to her legs and she eventually felt steady enough to stand again. She stretched, her back popping, and took a deep breath. She was weirdly renewed, as if a great weight had vanished, or, maybe more appropriately, a great urge had been satisfied. Again, something never to admit to Kurt ever, she thought.

She gathered her clothes, irritated with Kurt about her torn top and stretched bra, but that transformed into glee with the thought of a delicious prank. She tried to freshen herself as best as she could, cleaning herself with a wipes from the first aid kit and brushing her hair, and then stuffed Kurt's clothes and kit, leaving his underwear, into her gear before she left. As she headed down the hill, she turned around to Kurt's supine form, grinned, and blew him a mock kiss.

"Thanks for the fuck, asshole," she said to herself. "Now you get to see how the girls you screw with feel when they wake up ****."

After Kurt awoke, he was sorely disappointed to see that Heather was already up and gone without him. And, after a feverish search through the underbrush that put him on the wrong side of a badger, he was now running down the hill in nothing but his shoes and torn boxers, courtesy of said woodland creature.

"Heather you bitch!" he yelled. The badger snarled. Somewhere on the trail back to the cabin, Heather laughed.