Sister In Law

There is something about sisters in law, it is a worldwide phenomenon, and they are all sexy.

Drake's sister in law was no less. Nancy was small, like his wife, demure, with frizzy hair and a sharp tongue. He would never have imagined ever holding her, kissing her or fucking her in real life, but he could fantasize her. That he did, whenever a fantasy was required, Nance, as she was called, was always there. In steamy bathrooms; in bed at night and even in his erotic dreams.

So when it happened it was as much a shock as a wonderful delight.

The crowd at his seminar, where he was lecturing was good and lively, a few of the women even made a flirtatious pass at him. His mind though, that afternoon, was a little on the evening that was to come.

Drake and Eliza, his wife had an open and sexually full life, they told each other their erotic dreams, and shared their fantasies. She had told him, if he a gets a chance, with her sister, to do it. Don't expect her to be a part of it, never let her know he was doing it, but he if he did, he would tell her and not make it into a relationship. Sex as long as it remained just sex, Eliza was okay with it.

The week when he was in Boston for the seminar, Nance too was in town, and it turned out without her husband Al, attending a course that finished this afternoon. Nance was attending a course in a hotel a few blocks from him. They would meet for drinks at the bar she had been to last night at six thirty.

He knew nothing would happen, but the prospect of sitting down with his sister in law, having a couple of drinks, eyeing her full figure, those nice full tits, that round tight ass was a something that was always pleasant. Before this he had always had his wife or her husband as company on such occasions when they went for drinks.

He ran up to his room, took a quick shower, changed into a light t-shirt and pants and he was pressing the elevator button to go down, his phone beeped.

'Will be in Lobby in 5 min.' the message said.

He smiled and nodded to the couple who were in the elevator as he got in. He was in the lobby when she came in. She was wearing a knee length skirt with flowers on it, a white blouse. Her hair must have been recently done; she had streaks of blonde in her normally brown hair. Her lips were done in her usual flaming red color. Her wide smile was contagious.

They shook hands, her palms, he noticed were a little moist, must be the Boston warmth, he thought, she had walked from her hotel here. He took her hand casually, holding her by the elbow and led her out. The bar they wanted to go to, a nightclub sort of place that played good music, was just a block away. He paid for their entry charges and they were shown to their seats. He was glad they had a good view of the dance floor, a nice place at the corner.

"Just a couple of drinks, please, Drake." She said.

"For starters, of course?" He smiled. She, he knew, was a good drinker, could have matched him or Al for any length of time, she had done so before, and he ordered her favorite, Margarita for her and a Martini for himself.

They talked about the seminar, there was an air of nervousness about their conversation, it seemed to start and stop, they finished their first drink and he ordered another round of same.

"Last one please."

"What's the matter Nance, you okay? Is there something bothering you?"

"No, not at all." She said, as the drinks arrived and she took more than half the glass in a gulp. She was not convincing either.

"Come on something is bothering you." He insisted.

She looked at him, her expressive brown eyes gave him the tingles, and she looked at him, her glass raised to her lips.

He raised his glass to her.

"If that is the way it is, Nance, just two drinks then, finish it and we go."

She finished her drink.

"You have no idea what happens to me when I get drunk do you?" She said taking a deep breath. "I get horny, I get flirty and slutty and mostly Al is there to guide me, take me home and fuck my brains off..."

"So you get horny and slutty after a couple of drinks, is that a bad thing?"

"Yes, it is, I may cross the line."

"What line is that?"

"You fucking well know what line I am talking about Drake, don't try to be an ass. Just get me another fucking drink."

He had noticed too that she was using the words fuck and fucking very easily, had not been a part of her vocabulary before.

He waved for the waitress to top up our drinks.

"Are you telling me that crossing any line, imaginary line, with me would be unpleasant?"

"Don't put fucking words in my mouth Drake. I never said unpleasant, and I would not be so nervous if I thought it was unpleasant."

The drinks arrived, he had finished his too.

There were a few couples dancing on the floor, a light slow music was being played, a black man was playing the saxophone, a young girl was giving him company with violin.

"Let us dance." He said and took her hand and pulled her to the floor. The held each other, both average dancers, and began to gyrate to the music. Her face began to flush, her eyes got a little smoky. He pulled her closer; her tits brushed against his chest, his cock began to throb in his pants. He was glad he was wearing snug underwear. She took a sharp breath as his hand went to her lower back. He was itching to move downward, to grab her ass, but he dared not.

The music stopped and he saw the sense of relief on her face.

"One more drink and we will call it quits, okay?" He told her gently.

"Okay."

They ordered drinks.

She downed hers in one gulp.

"Tell me," she asked, "a moment ago you wanted me to stay, what now makes you call quits?"

"I still want you to stay, Nance." He told her, looking into her eyes. "But I saw the sense of relief when the music stopped, I felt it and seeing how uneasy this evening is making you, I owe it to you to call it quits."

"Okay." She ruffled through her bag and came out with a pack of Salem's, lit two and passed one stick to him. "Okay. But answer one question honestly, will you, and order one fucking drink for God's sake."

He waved for the drinks.

She took a long drag of her cigarette and asked.

"Do you want to fuck me? I mean... Do you ever think of me that way?"

"Nance. You fucking crazy woman, every man I know would want to fuck you. You are, like my best fantasy woman. If I get a chance I would give my arm to take that body of yours."

"But you are my little sister's husband." She said softly.

"That makes you even more erotic. Really Eliza laughs at me when I tell her that, and well, I laugh too, but you are, my dear are one of the most erotic women I have ever met."

"You are still my sister's husband."

"And you are my wife's sister, so what? I am a man; you are a woman, and a fucking beautiful woman."

The drinks arrived, and Nance asked the waitress to bring them another round.

"So if I told you I had erotic dreams about you, that I would die to fuck you, what would you do?"

She took a sip of her drink.

"I would tear your clothes off and put you on this table and fuck you."

"That is out of question, now isn't it? Tell me what would you do?"

"Take you to my room. Shower you with kisses, spread those beautiful legs apart and feast on that pussy."

"Eliza wouldn't mind?"

"Maybe she would, maybe she wouldn't? She wouldn't have to know."

"You are lying." She took another sip of her drink.

"About what?"

"About wanting me, you are just being polite."

"A man always carries proof of these things with him." He took her hand and brought it to the now raging tent in his crotch. "Feel the truth."

She squeezed the crotch, his cock just got harder.

"This is for you Nance, this has always been the case whenever we have met and sat down, I have had Eliza to go and fuck each time. I have called out your name then, sometimes silently, sometimes loudly as I fucked her, imagining it was you."

She drew another sharp breath and pulled her hand away, her eyes got even smokier. He leaned towards her. His voice a little hoarse as he said:

"What about you, do you feel the same way as I do?"

"Very fucking much. I can't tell you the number of times I have sat in the shower masturbating to you. Put your hand up my skirt and see how soaking wet I am."

He put his hand up her skirt, feeling a charge of electric current pass through him as he touched her, feeling the Goosebumps he created on her thigh and felt her sticky panty.

It was his time to draw a sharp breath. He caressed the crotch, felt the swollen pussy lips through the flimsy cloth. She pushed away his hand.

"What are we doing here? Let us go."

They finished the drink, and he walked over to the bar to settle his bill. He took her arm, this time not the elbow of his sister in law, but a woman, his woman for the night.

The warmth outside was excruciating, their bodies already hot with lust, they walked quickly, covered the distance in quick time, were in the elevator. Then as he pressed the button for the sixteenth floor, she grabbed his trousers and pulled him to her. Their lips met and a moan from deep down her belly escaped her lips and entered his mouth filled him with even more lust.

He fumbled with the card key, she looked around and seeing they were alone in the corridor, she began to undo his belt, she had his trousers unbuttoned and pulled the zip down by the time the door opened, he pulled her in, pushed her against the door. His trousers fell to his feet. He was undoing her blouse, cupping the white bra that held her tits. She undid her skirt and let it fall to the floor. They kicked off the shoes and watching each other, removed the rest of their clothes.

At the bed, she pushed him down, her eyes on the throbbing cock. She smacked her lips and moaned as her mouth opened and he disappeared in her mouth. He groaned, like it was the first time a woman was sucking him, the first time his cock was being swallowed. There is nothing like the first time. Nothing like the first few times, the fire that rages when you are with a woman you have never been with before is something that is a biological oddity. That is the reason why happily married men visit whorehouses, why men with beautiful wives go looking for paid sex. Why mistresses are kept.

She slurped and she swallowed, she was good.

"Nance, Nance, oh fuck. Fuck you baby, yeah." He groaned, throwing his head back. He would not last long with this assault. But he wanted to; he wanted to be in this mouth. He lifted himself on his elbows and watched.

Her hair was covering her face, he reached and bunched it up on her head, her face now visible, he watched. Her eyes opened and she looked at him, her cheeks sunken as his cock was deep inside her throat. She withdrew it from her mouth, his cock wet with her saliva. He felt a pang of loss that was soon smothered with new feeling of pleasure as her tongue began to lap the underside of his cock, reached his balls and gently bit them. Her palm cupped the balls as her tongue danced on his shaft, flitting from end to end, her tongue flicked his head, drawing a groan.

Feeling his growing climax, he pushed her away, pushed her down on the bed, her head towards the foot of the bed, his lips latched on to one nipple. Thick nipple that tasted like strawberry, he suckled it, she moaned, he suckled the other, his hands kneading the tits, his mouth made the journey downward.

He could smell her fragrance as he reached her belly button, the strong odor of sex. He was surprised at how much the sisters smelled different. He grunted and positioned himself in between her legs. His eyes feasted on the pussy. Here too, she was nothing like her sister, her labia was larger, thick lips, slightly parted to show the red underneath. He put a thumb on the either side and separated them more, the glistening pussy looked too delicious, her let his tongue slide between the lips. She was different on another department too. Eliza had a small, almost imperceptible clitoris; Nance had a large one that was already peeking from the hood.

He saw that she was already very aroused, there was no need to play around with her pussy, he circled her clit with his tongue and his lips closed down on it. Her back arched, rising above the mattress as a wail escaped her lips. She was coming; he was making his sister in law, his amazingly sexy sister in law, cum. He sucked harder; she reached and grabbed his hair, pushing his face down on her pussy, on her clit. She bucked her pelvis up, humping his face. Panting, panting all the way till her body gave up and she whimpered.

He rose from her pussy, his face shining with her juices, his hair tousled. He reached up and kissed her, the kisses warm and passionate, they rolled and she was on top. She began to move down, following his act earlier, kissing her way down, trailing her tongue on his skin and she again swallowed his cock. This time he would not resist, he would give in to her.

He wondered if she swallowed cum, Eliza was a cum-slut; she couldn't get enough of it.

He groaned as her tongue and now her palm began to coax his cock to shoot. He bucked his cock.

"I am cumming, baby, Nance, Nance." He cried out, expecting her to let the cock out of the mouth. But she swallowed him even deeper as her palms cupped his balls, squeezing them hard. He shot the load that had been percolating in him for years for her; he shot thick wads of cum into his sister in law's welcoming, wanting mouth.

"Ohhh." He groaned, he grunted. He thrust his pelvis into her mouth, his cock throbbing more cum into her. And to his delight, she drank all, every single bit. There is nothing more satisfying to a man to see his woman drink his cum, to accept it. That was the ultimate form of acceptance. The complete submission, a woman who does it is appreciated by men, down in their hearts. A woman who does it with pleasure, obvious pleasure and with lust for it is worshipped.

Give a man a woman who eats his cum and he will be hers forever.

He lay there shaking and sweating, the sensations of pleasure coursing through his body as she came and lay next to him. Smelling of his semen and smelling of her pussy. He kissed her. Slow peck, soft kisses.

"You are an amazing woman, Nancy." He cooed into her mouth.

"Hmmm." She whispered back, pleased at being amazing. "Your semen tastes wonderful." She suddenly lifted her head. "Any drinks in your mini bar, how good is it?"

"See for yourself." he laughed at her. She jumped off the bed and rummaged through refrigerator, came out with a couple of small bottles of vodka and opened and handed him one. They drank it straight. She shook her head and gave a whooping sound as the strong beverage kicked in.

Watching her standing beside his bed, totally naked, he began to drink her nudity for the first time. She had well formed, rounded tits, with just a hint of sag, her thick nipples were round and large and dark. She had a flat tummy, she worked out regularly and it showed in her toned body, her muscled thighs and slender legs. His cock began to rise again, for her.

"Oh god," he thought. "I am fucking Nance." The woman he had dreamt of fucking for years, whose laugh, whose smile, and whose looks had made his cock hard a number of times. There was something so terribly exciting about it. He had fucked other woman before, sluts on trips abroad, friends' wives, but this woman was the jewel in the crown, the ultimate fuck woman. His cock was rock hard. He reached and pulled her to him, she fell on him, throwing the empty bottle into a corner. She laughed as she took his cock and straddled him; he slipped into the wet, warm sheath of her pussy.

She moaned as he filled her up. He was well endowed; his thick cock was stretching her. "It feels fucking good." She growled making a whooping sound. She began to rise and fall on his length, changing the pace from slow to fast to slow. "Oh you feel so fucking good Drake." She said again with a moan. Now she was grinding on him. She was cumming, her clitoris rubbing against the thick stubble of hair on his pubes, she leaned towards him, her eyes glazed, her mouth open in a silent scream and her pussy puckered on his cock. Her pussy dripped on his balls. She shuddered, she panted and gasped and rolled her eyes and her nails dug into his shoulder.

He pulled her towards him, her beautiful tits mashed against his hairy chest. He rolled over. Getting on top of her he began to fuck her. He began picking up tempo as he went. And he was amazed to see how quickly she came. She was moaning again in no time, grabbing his hair and yelling she was coming.

"Drake, Drake, Drake." She panted his name, her eyes wide open, staring at him in a daze as pleasure surged in her body, enveloped her, and shook her. He was dripping sweat on her, literally dripping from his brow, his chin, into her face he ground hard and deep.

She was panting.

"Cum in me baby. Cum inside Nance. Cum in your slut."

He changed his position a little, took left leg under his right elbow, crooked his left elbow under her neck and began to thrust hard and fast, his force thrusting her upwards, thrusting deep into her. Another orgasm, stronger, harder, took hold of her.

She was all folded up, huddled up under him as he thrust one deep thrust and began to shoot his cum into her. He felt dizzy at the tightness of her cunt, at how her pussy throbbed around his cock, clasped his cock, and sucked him in. He was still pounding his pelvis into her even though he had finished cumming, she was still clutching him, panting, gasping.

They lay there for a long time, slowly his cock shriveled and popped out of her pussy, he moved, their bodies had joined, stuck to each other glued by the sweat.

"I am your slut now, Drake." She whispered hoarsely. "Say it, tell me I am your slut."

"You are my slut Nance."

"And your whore."

"And my own sweet whore."

"And your bitch." Her eyes were glazed with lust.

"Oh that, not yet." He laughed. "Bitches ought to be taken from behind, I ain't done that yet."

"Then take me down, feed me, I am fucking famished, and take me like a bitch."

"Sure." He was famished too.

They showered, quickly, not very cleanly, and put on the same clothes they had been in the evening and went out to eat.

They bought a large bottle of Vodka on the way up. They poured themselves a tall glass each. Naked by the time they reached the bed, she was on his cock, sucking it to hardness. She purred happily at her triumph as he stood hard and throbbing. She went on all fours and wiggled her ass at him.

"Make me your bitch Drake."

He placed his mouth on the parted lips, licked the cleaned labia from side to side, circled the clitoris with his tongue and with a little saliva on the head of his cock, he plunged into her. He reached deeper into her than he had before. She gave out a long, gurgling moan.

He was thrusting into her, slow long thrusts, his hands kneading her ass. The amazing ass that had made him drool and had made him hard and had made him masturbate a thousand times.

He slapped her ass.

"Harder." She growled, he thrust harder, reaching a crescendo that was animal like, there were no signs of making love in this scene, and this was just two animals fucking. He was due to his cumming earlier, quite far from cumming again soon. He thrust harder and with force into her. Her legs buckled and she fell flat on her tummy on the mattress. He quickly pulled two pillows under her belly to raise her ass up and began to hammer her even harder.

She began to cum, and he growled with glee that he was far from it. He thrust harder. She was cumming in a stream, wailing incessantly as she came, and her knuckles white as she grabbed the sheets, her head buried in the bunched up sheet on the mattress.