Every time I have sex with Kate, my sister-in-law, I swear that it is the last time. It's not that I don't love having sex with my wife's sister. It's just that I'm done with cheating on my wife and especially with cheating on her with her sister. It's wrong. It's over. I'm finished. No more, I can't do this. Enough is enough. I'm despicable and I hate myself for what I've done.
I can't continue the affair with all the lying and with keeping all the dirty little secrets, this is crazy. I can't live a double life any more. When we're all together at a family gathering, I'm tired of the furtive glances and the secret whispers. The stressful deception is wearing me out. Kate is wearing me out in the way she wants to have sex all the time. She's insatiable.
Every time I say no to her, she starts fondling the head of my cock with her fingertips through my pants while looking up at me with her big, sad, brown eyes. I can't resist her when she looks at me like that. Then, she kisses me before she unzips me, sticks her hand in my pants, pulls down the front of my underwear and takes me out. I watch her staring at my cock while she strokes it making me erect in her hand before looking up at me again and giving me that sexy look. Then, she lowers her mouth down to my cock and sucks it.
I've never been with a woman who loves sucking cock so much. I've never been with a woman who has given me so many blowjobs. Right there in my car in the mall parking lot, she starts sucking me off while stroking me. In the stairwell of the parking garage, she falls to her knees and begs to blow me. She even follows me in the men's room at the cinema and blows me there. I'm sure there are cameras watching her giving me a blowjob, but she doesn't care and at that point, I don't care either. There's just no way that I can say no to her with my cock buried in her mouth and my hand down her blouse while feeling her magnificent tits.
Whenever I tell her that we must end this torrid affair, she stops blowing me and removes my cock from her mouth for a few seconds. She loves teasing me. She won't allow me to cum in her mouth until I swear that I won't break off our fuck buddy relationship. She'll continue teasing me, stroking my cock, mouthing it, and licking the head of it while looking up at me with those sexy eyes.
"Please, pretty please, don't end our affair. Don't you want to fuck me? Don't you enjoy it when I suck your cock? Don't you love cumming in my mouth? Doesn't it feel good when I blow you?"
My wife doesn't suck cock. She dabbles. In all the years I've known her, I've only cum in her mouth twice and she spit it out both times. Her sister is the complete opposite. Her sister drains me dry and licks me clean.
I can't say no to her, but I must. This is all so wrong. She's family. She's my sister-in-law. She's my wife's baby sister, her only sister. It's not right to do this to my wife, the mother of my children, and I'm sick for having this affair with Kate. It's wrong to split sisters like this apart and ruin their family. It has to stop and I must stay strong enough to stop it. I swear, as soon as she's done blowing me, I'll persevere to maintain my will power enough to stop this once and for all.
"Go ahead and suck it, baby. Suck my big prick, Kate. Let me cum in your mouth," I say to her as I put a gentle hand to the back of her head while my other hand caresses her tit and feels her nipple become erect. "I want to cum in your mouth. I want to watch you swallow all of me."
I'm such a shallow human being. I'm a weak man to allow her to control me in the way she does. I'm such a cad. What is wrong with me? When I think about all those losers who appear on the Jerry Springer Show, I envision myself sitting in one of the chairs onstage as my wife comes out and beats the shit out of me and her sister with her giant handbag she carries with her everywhere.
"Steve, can you give me a little help here? Can you at least take the giant handbag away from her? I think she has a brick in there."
"Steve! Steve! Steve! Steve," screams the audience when Steve walks over to me.
"Hey buddy," he says. "You're getting what you deserve for fucking your wife's sister. Loser!"
Oh, my God, Steve is right. I am a loser to have fucked my wife's sister. How could I have done that? How did this happen? This is so wrong.
Nonetheless my desire to end this affair, I freely admit, it still excites me to think about having sex with my sister-in-law, even though I swear that it will never happen again, never, ever, never. Every time I try to remain strong against her womanly charms, every time I try to remain steadfast against her sexual desires, all it takes for her to break my resistance and for me to want my sister-in-law again is to think about taking her smoking hot body in my arms and kissing her soft, full, red lips.
I love it when she French kisses me. On my secret, personal list of great kissers that I carry around in my head, she is by the far the best kisser. I love it when she wears bright red lipstick. Lipstick on the dipstick, only every time she blows me with that lipstick I always have to remember to wash her lipstick off my cock before my wife sees it.
"Honey, what's that red lipstick mark on your cock?"
"Oh, uhm, that's from me. I was trying to see if I could blow myself and I put some lipstick on my lips to see how far I could get my cock in my mouth so that—"
"Never mind, I don't think I want to know any more about what you do when you are alone with your bad self."
I love reaching down, pulling up her short skirt and cupping her round, firm ass in my hand through her panty while pushing her pussy against my hardening cock, as I kiss and kiss her. It's hotter when there's a guy or a couple of guys watching us. She gets off when I expose her body to strangers. So long as I'm there to protect her, she loves flashing her panty clad ass to men. She's such a slut and I love her for that.
"Stop! Enough! I must stop thinking about her in that way."
Only, Kate is such a great kisser and I can't stop thinking about kissing her. She blanks my mind with her kisses whenever she kisses me. She kisses me the way my wife used to kiss me when we were first dating. I love holding her close, looking deep in her big, brown eyes, feeling her long, lush, mahogany hair against my cheek, and being lost in her fragrant perfume before feeling her soft lips against mine. She makes my knees weak and when I feel her breasts through her blouse and bra...okay, enough, this is making me crazy.
"Fuck, I have an erection just thinking about kissing her, touching her, holding her, and...stop!"
We look good together and are always holding hands when we are walking. When not holding her hand, I love wrapping my arm around her slender waist and resting my forearm where her hip juts out. Every once in a while I'll reach down and feel her ass to make sure that everyone walking behind us knows she's mine.
Whenever we go to the mall, we must drive to one where no one knows us. She looks like a dark haired Lindsay Lohan when she was off drugs and alcohol after rehab and her sister, my wife, looks like a dark haired Britney Spears when she was off her diet and out of shape after having had a baby.
Kate with heels appears elegant and sophisticated. My wife without heels appears dumpy and hippy. She says that heels hurt her back. So what? Walk it off. Take one for the team. I love the look of heels, especially when worn with a short flowing skirt with a thong underneath.
"Oh, my God, enough. Stop! I can't take it anymore. I must stop thinking about Kate."
How can two sisters be so opposite? How can my wife let herself go in such a short time? She used to be hot.
"I have to control myself. I must not have sex with my sister-in-law. I must not have sex with my sister-in-law. I must not have sex with my sister-in-law. It's wrong. Just say no. Yes, that's it; I must learn to just say no...No, no, no, no, NO!"
It starts innocently enough with her kiss. I need to push her away instead of pulling her toward me. This illicit affair must end and it must end now before it's too late and before we are caught.
Only, I can't stop replaying in my mind the way she pushes me back on the bed when we are alone and naked. She's so very ticklish and I can hear her giggling, even now. I love watching her breasts bounce up and down and side to side when she laughs and tries to move away from my tickling fingers. It's such fun to tease her. She's always willing to play.
I love it when she mounts me before talking dirty to me while telling me every wicked thing she's about to do to my willing, naked body. I love feeling her warm wetness on her thighs, just as I love feeling my hard throbbing cock bumping her ass with its anticipated desire for her. God, I love it when she talks dirty to me and she knows all of what to say to push all of my buttons. She's such a slut and I love her for being that when we are together.
My wife isn't a slut. My wife doesn't talk dirty. Moreover, she admonishes me when I try to talk dirty to her. My wife acts more like my mother than she does my wife or my girlfriend. She's always treating me as if she's my mother and I'm her child. I hate it when she treats me like that and when I feel like I'm being treated like that.
"I don't like dirty talk," she says. "It turns me off and gets me out of the mood. Talking dirty makes me feel like a slut and I'm not a slut. I'm no man's whore," she says while looking at me with a face full of scorn and disappointment in me. She makes me feel like a pervert because I want, need, and must have hot sex with my wife.
"Okay, I'm sorry. I won't talk dirty anymore," I say trying to mount her again.
"Sorry, but I'm not in the mood anymore," she says, as she pushes me off her and gets up from bed to go downstairs to make coffee. "You've ruined it for me."
"Fuck!"
I love feeling the warmth from Kate's hot hand when she reaches down and grabs my cock to position it and insert it in her pussy. She's so wet. She's always so wet and it feels so hot and so deliciously tight when she slides my cock inside her pussy, as she slowly sits down on it before humping me. She rides me like she rides the bull in the bar where we meet for drinks after work sometimes. She puts on quite the show before, during, and after riding the bull. She makes the guys wild with desire for her.
She loves wearing a short skirt to ride the bull and she gets off on flashing all those horny cowboys her bikini panties before coming home with me. Sometimes we pretend we don't know one another. I like watching her from afar while she's sitting alone and drinking at the bar. It makes the guys angry when I walk over and immediately pick her up after they've bought her a drink and struck out.
She's so hot. She's so gorgeous. She's so outrageous. I love being with her. Because we have so much fun when we are together, that makes it so much more difficult to end the affair. I can't imagine not being with her anymore, no more kissing, no more sex, and no more blowjobs. I can't imagine not having her in my life as my lover. I can't imagine her just being my sister-in-law, my wife's sister.
I love having sex with my wife's sister so much more than having sex with my wife. Matter of fact, after having a steady diet of having sex my sister-in-law, I dread having sex with my wife. Kate excites me, whereas, Susan, my wife, depresses me. Kate loves to fuck. Susan does it out of obligation, an obligation that she feels less obligated to do the longer we are married. She doesn't even kiss me anymore and when she kisses me, there's no passion, no spark, and no magic behind her kiss. We don't even talk, unless we are talking about the kids or household expenses.
So why stop? Why not continue this wicked affair with Kate? Why, because I can't go on like this. I'm overwhelmed with guilt and remorse immediately after having sex with my sister-in-law. I wish I could leave Susan for Kate, but I can't do that. How could I even begin to imagine doing that? Besides, I'd never see my kids again; Susan would make damn sure of that.
Yeah, it feels unbelievable when my cock is in my sister-in-law's mouth, when my hands are feeling her tits, and when my fingers are playing with her nipples, but this can't continue. It's wrong. I just have to look at my wife to know what a poor excuse of a husband I am to her and just have to look at my kids to know what a bad example of a father I am to them, should they ever discover that I'm having sex with Kate. I'd be embarrassed beyond shame if ever they knew. How did this ever happen for me to stoop so low?
Not to mention, I can only imagine the reaction of my wife finding out about our affair. It would not only destroy her but also end our marriage and ruin the relationship she now enjoys with her sister. They talk and laugh on the phone every night for hours. They are close, which baffles me. Why doesn't it bother Kate to have sex with her brother-in-law, her sister's husband? Why doesn't she feel guilty? Why doesn't she think it wrong to continue this illicit affair?
It's even difficult for me to look at my mother-in-law and father-in-law knowing that I'm having sex with both their daughters. Actually, in truth, I'm only having sex with one of their daughters, as my wife stopped having sex with me with the pregnancy of our second child. I can't remember the last time we made love. I can't remember the last time we fucked like dogs in heat. It's like that every time with Kate, wild and free, with sweaty sex and screaming orgasms. She makes me mad with desire for her.
Certainly, if there is such a thing, she's my perfect sexual match. I even love going down on her and eating her pussy, something I always dreaded doing with my wife. Susan has a bushy pussy, a forest, and there's always has an unpleasant odor, but Kate is smoothly shaved and has no odor at all. Susan's thighs and ass are massive compared to Kate's. I love being positioned between Kate's legs while licking her pussy until she orgasm. I love being able to do that for her knowing that she'll reciprocate by giving me even more pleasure.
Yet, as hard as I try to resist the temptation of having sex with my wife's sister, the feelings of my passionate desire and sexual lust for her starts all over again every time I'm alone with her. I just have to see my sister-in-law to want her. She's so much prettier, younger, and thinner than my wife. She's how Susan used to be and the way Susan used to look like. She's the reincarnation of the woman who I fell in love with when I fell in love with Susan. Now, look at her. She's a mess and Kate is so much better than her sister in every way. She's like a dream. She's my dream woman.
Suddenly, now, to make matters worse, my wife is suddenly farting in front of me. If that's not a sexual turn off, then I don't know what is. Why is she suddenly farting? Is it something she ate? Is she that comfortable with me that she's no longer embarrassed to have me hear her fart? Does she not even care anymore about pretenses? Is it because she doesn't feel that she's sexy anymore and now it's okay to fart? She never farted before and I certainly don't want to smell her smelly farts now. I don't fart in front of her. Next, she won't be taking regular showers or brushing her teeth.
Before, when we were dating and when we were first married, before we had kids, if she had to fart, she'd go in the other room or get up out of bed on the pretense that she forgot to turn off a light or had to pee. Sometimes, I'd hear her fart over the toilet flushing, but I never told her that I knew she went in the bathroom to secretly fart. Meanwhile, as soon as she left the bedroom, I'd discreetly fart under the covers in bed and then flag the covers in the way that Archie Bunker taught his son-in-law, Meathead to do.
Now, she farts all the time and many of them are disgusting smelly, loud ones. She just lets them rip. Next, she'll be squatting down and lifting her leg when she's about to fart, God, she farts just like a guy. The silent but deadly ones are the worse ones and she blames those on the cat, but we both know better. Even the cat leaves the room when she unleashes on of those foul farts.
Kate never farts. That woman is incapable of farting. I can't imagine a big, smelly fart erupting from out of her ass. Yeah, perfect women like her don't fart. I betcha Christie Brinkley or Haley Berry doesn't fart. I know, I know, yeah, right, the shit of beautiful women doesn't smell. If you're a guy reading this, you know what I mean.
She's the one I should have married and not her sister. If I had married her, instead of her older sister, I wouldn't be cheating now. I wouldn't be going through all this guilt, remorse, and harboring the bittersweet feelings of doing something that feels so good but is so wickedly wrong on so many different levels. Then, I wonder if I had married Kate instead of Susan and if Kate had suddenly became fat, ugly, and boring after delivering two babies, if I'd be lusting over her sister and be cheating on her with Susan. The grass always looks greener until you get the woman you thought you wanted and now have to live with your decision and with her. Who knows, maybe, Kate would be the one farting now, had I married her instead.
It doesn't take much for me to give in to my delirious desire to have sex with Kate, again. It could just be the way she looks that day or how she looks at me, the way she smiles, laughs, or what she says or wears that makes me want her again. Three years younger than her sister, she's five years younger than me. At 5'7", she's two inches taller than her sister and, at 130 pounds; she's 30 pounds lighter than Susan. She has firm and shapely C cup tits and her sister has flabby and saggy B cup tits from breast feeding our two kids. She likes having fun and her sister, my wife, prefers staying at home. I'm sick of hearing the same, old mantra from my wife whenever I want to go out and have some fun.
"I'm too tired to go out. I have nothing to wear. Do I look fat in this? Can we afford going out to dinner, a movie, and paying for a babysitter? Instead of spending money, we should be saving money. We should be paying down our credit card debt. We really didn't need to buy that big screen TV you bought last month."
Fuck yeah, you look fat in everything you wear because you are fat, is what I want to say, but don't. She's still trying to squeeze her fat body in clothes that are too small and clothes she wore before delivering two babies. She refuses to buy anything new because then she'd have to confront the reality that she's now a size 12 or a size 14 and no longer a size 6 or a size 8. She ruins my mood before we even leave the house. And you bet your ass we needed to buy that big screen TV. That was as much a necessity as was my Ford F150 truck with all the extra chrome.
"No, that looks nice on you. It doesn't make you look fat, at all, Honey," I tell her while lying through my teeth. I'd say anything just to get her the fuck out of the house, so that we can go out and have some fun. Except for going food shopping or buying clothes for the kids, we haven't been out since the second baby was born and that was more than a year ago.
Hey, seriously, I didn't agree to any of this when I took my marriage vows. No way was this part of the deal. If my wife was a car instead of a woman, I'd sue the manufacturer for false advertising and the car dealership for bait and switch. If she was a television, I'd exchange her for a different make, a sleek and sexy Japanese model instead of a chunky and overweight American one. C'mon, seriously, I haven't changed overnight in the way that she's changed overnight. I'm the same fun loving, lovable, adorable guy that I was when we were first married eight long, miserable years ago. Okay, my beer belly is a wee bit bigger and I don't have as much hair as I did when I was first married, but those are just normal signs of aging. Surely, you can't hold that against me.
"Burp. Pardon me."
Yeah, technically, I did take my marriage vow agreeing to the proposition of "for better or for worse" but, I didn't know that meant for fatter and for boring, too. Had I known then what I know now, I wouldn't have married her. Definitely, I would have married her hot sister, the one who loves to talk dirty, the one who loves exposing her body, the one who doesn't fart, the one who wants to have fun, the one who wears heels and a thong, the one who loves giving me endless blowjobs, and the one who loves having sex.
I can just see myself now returning to the scene of the crime and buttonholing the priest who married us.
"Pardon me, Father, I'd like to make an exchange."
"Exchange? I don't understand. What are you hoping to return today, my son?"
"I'd like to exchange my fat wife, Susan, for her hot sister, Kate."
"May God have mercy on your soul. I shall say a prayer for you. Security!"
In my defense, I never meant to have sex with my wife's sister, it just happened. Susan had just delivered her second baby and Kate was always there helping around the house. She'd make supper, help with the kids, and pick up the house. Then, when I came home from work, my wife would be taking a nap and it would just be Kate and me watching TV. After a while, I felt like we were a couple and I wished that I was married to her instead of her sister.
I mean, the attraction that I had for Kate was real and more than just a sexual thing. Admittedly, what heightened my initial attraction to her was the fact that she has Direct TV with every available sports channel in her condo and we enjoyed sitting and having a beer or two while watching the game, something her sister would never do. For someone who is so hot, Kate is like one of the guys. She knows as much about quarterbacks and cornerbacks as I do.
I remember it as if it happened yesterday instead of a year ago. We were sitting on the couch together watching a chick flick, something I'd never watch had I not be sitting there with my hot sister-in-law. I'd watch anything for the chance to sit beside her, even that HD TV home decorating channel, gay, naked design or some shit like that.
"I'm cold," she said.
Normally I have a blanket handy, but the cat had claimed that as her sleeping perch and it was loaded with cat hair. I did the next best thing; I draped my big arm around her sleek shoulders. It wasn't planned. I didn't think about it. I just did it and it felt natural.
She looked up at me and smiled, rested her hot little hand on my thigh after patting it, pushed in closer to me, and rested her head on my chest. Her warm thigh against my leg felt incredible. I don't know if women know this about guys, but guys have tit sensors all over their bodies and I could feel the side of her breast with my rib. It was amazing.
As if our bodies were made for one another, she fit perfectly and she felt good, real good. Further, from the angle of how she was relaxing, I had a clear view down her blouse. I mean, I couldn't see her areola or nipple, but I could see enough of her tits to know that they were spectacular tits and tits that were much better than her sister's tits. I was mesmerized and hoping to see more when, she caught me looking.
"Are you looking down my blouse?" She looked down at herself and noticed her open blouse. "Were you staring at my tits?"
She looked down at her opened blouse, again, flattened it closed with her hand, and looked up at me with a scolding look before pulling away from me and straightening her posture.
I was mortified, I was so embarrassed. I could feel myself turning red. I haven't felt that embarrassed since my mother caught me peeping at her through the keyhole when she was changing. I mean, it was something that I always did, peeping on my Mom and on my sister. Peeping was a rite of passage for a testosterone filled pre-teenage boy, but that was the first time I was caught and I felt the same way now as I did then.
"Sorry, I couldn't help it. Your blouse was wide open and it's been a long time since I've had sex with Susan with her being pregnant and now all hormonal. God, I can't believe I was scoping out my wife's baby sister. I'm so sorry."
"Well, if you're going to look, you may as well have a good look," she said leaning towards me and pulling open her top while staring up at me.
I figured she was really mad now and I was afraid to look but I couldn't help but stare. I was mesmerized by her tits. They were beautiful. I mean, all that I could see was the top of her breasts, a lot of cleavage, and her beautiful blue bra with tiny pink roses, but from what I saw I could only imagine the rest and I couldn't wait to jerk off over what I had just seen and imagined seeing.
"I'm sorry, Kate. Really I am. I'm so pathetic. I moved my arm away from her and sat up straight. I've been so horny for so long."
"Well?"
"Well, what?"
"What do you think?" She opened her top again and looked up at me before looking down at what she was showing me. "Do you like them?"
I couldn't believe my wife's sister was showing me her tits, yet, again. I couldn't believe my wife's sister was asking what I thought about her tits.
"I love your tits," I said now literally peering down her open blouse and ogling what she was freely showing. "They're beautiful. Are they real?"
"Of course they're real, you big jerk."
"Sorry," I said turning red again by my stupid comment.
"My turn."
"Your turn? What do you mean, your turn?"
"I showed you my tits now you must show me your cock."
My cock? She wants to see my cock? Oh, my God, I was so excited. Hey, if you want to see my cock, baby, I have no problem with showing off what I have. Only, I couldn't believe my sister-in-law just asked to see my cock. I've played a little poker in my day and I figured she was bluffing. And this cowboy was ready to call her bluff.
"I really didn't see your tits, just a bit of cleavage and your bra," I said waiting to see what her next move would be.
As soon as I said that, she lifted up her top along with her bra. Her tits were right there not inches away from my horny hands. My eyes went from her tits, up to her face, and back down to her tits again before settling on her tits and nipples and not moving. I could feel my eyeballs bugging out of my head like a cartoon character.
"They're beautiful. Your tits are so much better than Susan's tits," I said in a hoarse whisper while thinking that I needed a beer. "Can I feel them?"
"Certainly not. I'm your sister-in-law you pervert. What's wrong with you? It's one thing for me to show you my tits, something that I've done on a topless beach dozens of times, but it's another thing for you to want to maul me." She looked down at the bulge my cock made in my tight jeans. "What's fair is fair," she said. "C'mon, now it's your turn. Show me your cock," she said staring down at my bulge.
I turned to look at the bedroom where Susan was sleeping. I was so nervous she'd wake up and catch me with my pants down around my ankles with a huge boner poking up between my legs.
"Did you have a good nap, Honey?"
"Joe, why are you naked from the waist down?"
"Oh, I'm just showing your sister my cock. She showed me her tits, so it was only fair that I show her my cock."
"Oh, okay. I'm tired. I'm going back to bed. Goodnight."
Yeah, wouldn't it be great if everything was that simple. Only, I'd have a frying pan imbedded in my head and Kate would have her eyes scratched out.
I knew my wife would be down for another hour, at least. The baby kept her up all last night and the kids were in their room sleeping. I quickly unzipped and unbuttoned my jeans and scooted them down along with my underwear just enough so that my cock popped out.
"It's so big," she said staring down at it. She never removed her eyes from it. She fisted both her hands up to her chest as if she was daring herself to touch it. Even when I was dating Susan, she never looked at my cock in the way that Kate was now staring at it. "Can I touch it?"
What she said echoed in my mind, as if I was a dying man and someone asked me if I wanted to live for another fifty years. Even though I wanted her to touch it, stroke it, jerk me off, and hopefully suck it, I was still playing my hand and it was my turn to play the game.
"You didn't let me feel your tits. Why should I—"
Before I could even get the words out, she had her blouse and bra up and her tits out again. Oh, my God. This isn't happening. I've died and gone to Heaven. My hot sister-in-law, my wife's sister, is not only flashing me her tits again, but is allowing me to feel her tits so that she can touch my exposed cock.
"Well, go ahead, feel away," she said pushing her shoulders back and sticking her chest out. Her nipples were already erect. Either she was cold or she was excited. I figured she was a little of both, hopefully more the latter than the former.
My hands were all over her big boobs. They felt wonderful. Her tits were so much firmer than her sister's tits and much shapelier, too. I was touching them, feeling them, and caressing them. I was fingering, pulling, and tugging on her nipples. She had amazing breasts. Knowing full well where this was going and hoping my strategy would work as planned, I asked my next question.
"Can I suck them?"
She looked at me and, in the way she looked at me; I knew that she knew what I was hoping would happen next. Guys are so transparent.
"Sure, but be gentle with my nipples," she said while reaching up to feel my face. "You have a five o'clock shadow."
My mouth and tongue were all over her big nipples while my hands squeezed her big boobs. I loved sucking Kate's tits and every time I did, I could see that what I was doing was arousing her, too. Only, I gracefully shortened my time with playing with her tits and sucking on her nipples because I knew, I hoped, what was about to happen next.
"What's fair is fair," I said. I sat back with my hands by my sides. My cock was throbbing and aching to be touched and she wasted no time wrapping her hot hand around my prick. Ever so gently at first, she stroked me. Boy did that feel good. Then, her grip got firmer as her stroking grew harder and faster. She was jerking me off. My hot sister-in-law was giving me a hand job.
"It's so hard? Are you always this hard," she said breathlessly, as if asking me a rhetorical question. "It feels so good in my hand. I love it. I love your big cock." Then, she looked up at me with those big, brown eyes. "May I suck it?"
Someone pinch me because I've died and gone to Heaven. My hot sister-in-law, my wife's sister, just asked me if she could suck my cock. Let me think about that for a nanosecond, just until my brain can move my lips enough to answer her question.
"Oh, please do," I said.
I couldn't believe it when Kate lowered her head and took my cock in her mouth. I've received a lot of blowjobs in my life, but never one that felt as incredibly good as this one. This was a woman who has had a cock in her mouth before, no doubt. She knew what to do with her tongue, lips, and hand. Now, why couldn't Susan suck a cock like her baby sister?
"You taste good," she said removing my cock from her mouth long enough to speak. "It's been a while since I've given someone head."
I thought she was done but she reinserted it in her mouth again and went right back down on it. It took all the control that I had not to ask her when and who was the last person she gave head. Hey, she was the one who opened that door and I was happy to talk dirty. Only, sexually, I didn't know her well enough to explore that sexual peccadillo, yet.
"Kate...Kate," I said feebly trying to lift her by her shoulder. "If you continue blowing me, you're going to make me cum."
I could feel my cock getting ready to explode. Out of respect for my sister-in-law, it took all the control that I had not to put a heavy hand to the back of her head and impale her mouth with my prick while humping her face with my hips. Coating my sister-in-law's throat with a warm, slimy load of cum would give me a decade of jerk off material.
"That's the idea," she said removing my cock from her mouth again long enough to speak. "Isn't it? Just as I'm giving my sister a helping hand, I figured you could use a bit of relief, too."
Are you kidding me? She's such a nice sister. Oh, my God. She's blowing me. She's really blowing me and she wants me to cum in her mouth. I'm dreaming. This isn't real. This is surreal. I was suddenly consumed with the forbidden curiosity of wondering if she'd swallow my load, as her sister never had. Her sister didn't even like me cumming in her mouth, which ruined much of the experience of receiving a blowjob.
"Don't forget, tell me when you are about to cum and I'll pull you out of my mouth and you can cum on my tits," said Susan whenever she gave me one of her dabbling blowjobs.
Cumming on a woman's tits instead of in her mouth is like kissing your sister. It was then I wondered if my sister would allow me to cum in her mouth. Gees, that's sick, now I'm thinking about having sex with my sister. Receiving a blowjob from my sister-in-law is suddenly making me a degenerate.
This is the twenty-first century, doesn't my wife know that everyone expects to cum in a woman's mouth when receiving a blowjob? It's sad to say that my wife is still living in the past. She doesn't even trim her pussy. I betcha Kate has a shaved beaver. I couldn't wait to find out.
With that Kate went to town on my prick. She was bobbing her head up and down and making all those great slurping interactive cocksucking sounds that all we guys love to hear to prove that our woman is having as good a time blowing us as we are having getting blown.
I exploded a load in her mouth that I had been saving for a week and she took it all and swallowed it. Oh, my God, what a feeling of sexual satisfaction to have a woman not only allow me to cum in her mouth but also to watch her swallow all that I had to give. It was after she blew me that we kissed, French kissed, for the first time. Except for that hooker when I was in the army, this was the first time that a woman blew me before kissing me. Actually, now that I think of it, I don't think that hooker kissed me.
And if the truth be told, it is just as much my wife's fault that I had sex with her sister, than it is mine. Bear with me. This is a guy's logic and after a few beers, playing some poker, and watching a couple of games on the big screen TV, it makes more sense...to other guys.
She drove me to having sex with her sister. Come to think of it, there is enough blame to go around for all three of us to share. Why should I be the only villain here? Kate is no innocent virgin. She's a minx. She knows exactly what she does to men. She's a sly vixen, she is. She has me wrapped around her manicured little fingers and she knows it. Moreover, she's the one who started this by showing me and allowing me to feel her tits and asking to see and suck my cock.
My wife, Susan, and I have been married eight sexually unfulfilling, unsatisfying, frustrating long years and have two kids, Jimmy 5 and Amy 2. I love my kids. They are the best things that ever happened in my life. And yeah, I know about the seven year itch and if there is such a thing, then I'm itching to fuck my wife's sister again and again until either I die or until my cock falls off inside of her.
Everything was great, until my wife became pregnant and then everything changed. She changed. Once she was expecting a baby, it was all about her. Then, after she gave birth, it was all about the baby. I was pushed in the background, as if I was invisible. There was no more me and no more us. It was just them, her, the kids, and her mother. The only person on the planet more insane than Charles Manson of the notorious Manson family is a new grandmother.
With her mother always around, forever there and always sleeping over, we never had any privacy. Even when we tried to have sex, the baby would always start crying. It was as if the kids had radar. It was as if they knew we were trying to be intimate. Always, I'd just start making my moves; I just started getting Susan in the mood, when one of the kids would start crying either from a bad dream, being afraid of the dark, or from a dirty diaper. Once that happened, that was it, the mood was ruined and it'd be weeks before she'd be in the mood to want to try again.
Yeah, sure, I understand about the motherly instincts and the hormonal changes that happen during and after a pregnancy, but is it going to be like this until the kids leave the nest? Then, what? Menopause? What the fuck? Where's my football helmet. Maybe, I should buy one now, one that has stereo speakers so that I can plug it in and zone out while watching the game.
"What's that Honey about hot flashes? Sorry, I can't hear you. I'm listening to the game in surround sound. I'll get back to you in a few years. Have fun with your hot flashes. Let me know when you're done, so that we can have sex again."
Talk about the honeymoon is over once a woman becomes pregnant, that's an understatement. Why does it have to be like this? Why can't we return to the way things were before she became pregnant? It isn't like I don't help out around the house, I do. Yeah, I understand she's tired, too tired to have sex, but I'm tired, too, after having worked all day.
"Joe do this and Joe do that. Joe, can you pick up formula and diapers on your way home? Joe, I'm too tired to cook. I thought we'd have pizza, again. Joe, I know it's Sunday, you're only day off and the big game is on, but can you take the kids to the park while I relax?"
She makes me feel more like an employee than a lover. Now, instead of being a boyfriend and her lover I'm her husband and the Dad. Our normal intimate relationship ended with her pregnancy and with the birth of our kids and now I resent them and her for that. With two kids, there wasn't any time left for us. The fun in our marriage ended with the birth of them.
We dated for two years before we were married and were married three years before we had kids. We had five years of fun filled sex. We did it multiple times a day. We did it everywhere, on the floor, in the kitchen, in the bathroom, in the car, in the garage, and even outside on the backyard lawn, in the pool and out of the pool. Then, when that pregnancy test was positive, when she peed on that fucking strip of paper and that strip turned blue, my balls did, too. Sex and making love came to a crashing stop, as if there was a red light train crossing running down the middle of our bed.
I miss those days before we had kids when we'd just go and do things without worrying about who'd watch the kids. Now, everything is complicated and planned. Everything is orchestrated and a worry and a fright. We can't make a move without being mature, responsible adults. We can never be spontaneous or impulsive. I miss how my life used to be. I want sex!
It's different when I'm with Susan's sister. Being with Kate feels like I'm dating again, she's fun and she's funny. I think I love her and I think she loves me. We've never uttered the L word, but it's there when we are in bed naked with one another. It's there the way we look at one another and it's there when we kiss.
It all started innocently enough. I mean, I was always attracted to Kate, from the first time I saw her. She's a carbon copy of her sister, Susan; at least she was back then, before she gained weight from having two children and no longer wanted to give me any sexual satisfaction. Yeah, I know, it's terrible to think of my wife as fat and unattractive when she gave me two great kids, but I'm too young not to have a sex life. I'm too young not to have any fun. Being home watching television with Susan makes me feel as if I'm in my fifties instead of my thirties. Being out with Kate makes me feel like I'm single and in my twenties again.
Kate tells me about all the cool clubs she goes to over the weekend and I get jealous thinking of her with another man. She never mentions that part and I don't ask. Still, I know she's been with others. How could she not? You'd just have to look at her, she's so hot. What guy would not hit on her?
So, there we were a year later sitting on the same couch watching television while my wife napped. I can't believe it's been a year that my wife's sister and I have been having sex.
"Joey, since this is the one year anniversary of me blowing you, I thought I'd celebrate the date by sucking your cock now."
God, I love this woman. She's so thoughtful. I looked to where my wife slept soundly in the bedroom. The door was tightly closed. One never to resist a blowjob, I agreed to having her sucking me off, again. Definitely, after I'm done cumming off in Kate's mouth, I plan on telling her that we are over. I'm done. I can't do this anymore. It's wrong.
As if it was the first time all over, again, she reached her hot hand down, unzipped me and pulled out my cock. I helped her by scooting down my pants to my knees. I didn't want to take them completely off, should my wife suddenly awaken.
Kate was all over my cock, as if she was a toothless, starving woman sucking on a kielbasa. I unbuttoned her top and pulled out her tits. There's nothing like feeling tits, especially her magnificent tits, while getting a blowjob.
"That's right, suck it baby. Suck my big prick. Yeah, stroke me. Blow me. I'm getting ready to cum in your sweet, pretty, little mouth."
"Joe! Kate! What's going on here?"
I opened my eyes and couldn't believe Susan was standing right there behind the couch staring down at us. I must have zoned out while cumming in Kate's mouth. I never heard her. She caught us. She caught Kate sucking my cock. She saw her sister blowing me. When I pulled my cock from Kate's mouth, there was a clothesline of cum hanging from my cock to her lips.
Now what do I do? What can I possibly say to fix this? I'm so totally fucked.