My Horny Sister-in-Law

My wife June and her sister had grown up in a strict religious family, the Farlingtons. Her father was a Baptist minister in a small town a bit north of Atlanta, where June and I now live. When I first met June she was straight as an arrow. Even a French kiss was off-limits—until I finally got her to try it once. I thought she would never stop. She wouldn't go much further than that until we were married. You might ask why on earth I married such a prude, and the only answer I could give you would be that I was head over heels in love, and hope springs eternal.

However, once we were married she bloomed—sexually, I mean. It took awhile, but slowly she came around to a wild range of sexual practices. It was like the French kiss. At first she would say no, but once I got her to try something (and she always gave in eventually) she was enthusiastic about it. Who knew that my sexy looking little Baptist wife would turn out to be a world-class cocksucker (for example)? By the time we had been married for a couple of years she was looking up new ideas on the Internet and attacking me when I got home from work. It was like being married to someone who was editing a new edition of the Kama Sutra. Flat fucking awesome!

She also loved to read porn or, even better, have me read it to her while she masturbated. Occasionally she would read the porn to me while I jerked off. Either way it usually wound up with the two of us in a 69 position or fucking or whatever else our twisted imaginations could come up with.

After we had been married for about seven or eight years, we began telling each other about people we had seen during the day and the fantasies we had about having sex with them—mostly total strangers, but occasionally people one or both of us knew. We would also fantasize about having a foursome with someone we knew and their spouse or significant other, or maybe just a threesome with one of them—wherever our perverted imaginations led us. It was all just fantasy, but it made us so hot, and it seriously spiced up our sex life, which was beginning to drag a bit as we entered our thirties.

One night I dreamed up a fantasy about June's sister, Clarisse, in which she exposed herself to me and then I watched her and her husband, Herman, fucking. Another time June made up a fantasy about me watching as she and Herman had sex. Clarisse's husband was a large black man (boy was that a problem in their Southern Baptist family, but somehow they had gotten through it). He had been a tight end on his college football team, and June was happy to fantasize about having sex with him. She applied the usual stereotype and assured me that he had a huge dick.

"Really, June? Isn't that a bit of a stereotype?" I asked one evening. We were in bed and as I said that, I slipped my rock hard cock into her slippery wet pussy.

"Oh fuck, that's good!" she said, momentarily distracted.

I didn't begin to fuck her hard immediately. I just lay there. I knew she liked to hear my fantasies or tell me hers while my dick was in her cunt but not fucking her in earnest. The challenge for both of us was to see how long we could spin out (or listen to) a fantasy without starting to seriously hump our partner.

"Well, I guess it is," she said. "But indulge me. It's all just fantasy. Those two are so straight that I can barely imagine them fucking at all, but as long as we are making up something like this, I want you to tell me about how big his dick was and how my sister screamed when he fucked her."

I laughed at her and then said, "Okay." Then I launched into a tale of debauchery among my sister-in-law, her big-dicked husband, and me. I was watching from a closet as I jerked off in this version of the tale.

June interrupted me with a giggle. "God it's hard to listen to you with a straight face. Clarisse is so fucking straight. I bet they only make love in the dark and then only in the missionary position."

"Just think what she is missing," I said. As I spoke I flexed my cock. Not much. Just enough so she could feel it.

"Stop that! You know the rules. No fucking until the fantasy is done."

"What if it wasn't a fantasy? What if your sister really exposed herself to me and then let me watch her husband fuck her with that huge black cock of his?" This was a game we often played in which the one telling the story did his or her best to deny that the lurid tale was fiction. Of course, it was always fiction, but we did our best to make it sound as real as possible.

"Oh fuck!" she said as she briefly squeezed my dick with her cunt muscles. "I'm so fucking horny. Tell me about them. How big was his dick? How hard did he fuck her? Were you hiding, or did he know you were watching?"

So I did just what June asked, spinning out a lurid fantasy about her sister and brother-in-law fucking while I watched from a closet. I made his dick as big and hard as my imagination could conjure up without sounding ridiculous. I was really only about half way through my story when June began moaning and pulling on her nipples. When I got to the part where her brother-in-law sprayed buckets of cum on her sister's face and chest, June just lost it and came with a scream. I dropped the story at that point and began fucking her steadily until she came again, which set me off.

"Mmm, that was good," she said as we cuddled in post-coital bliss. Then she giggled again, "but it's a ridiculous story. There is no way my sister would do those things. She is so straight, she couldn't!"

"You were too, when I met you." I began fondling one of her tits.

"Yes, but you corrupted me."

"Not so sure, who corrupted whom," I said, continuing to fondle her right tit. "You come up with the nastiest ideas off the Internet."

Another giggle. "Isn't it fun. How did people ever enjoy sex before the Internet?" Now she was stroking my still slippery cock. I felt it stir.

"What about Herman? Are you sure he's as straight as you think your sister is? Maybe he corrupted her." I brought my other hand to her up-until-then-neglected left tit.

He's a minister in the black Baptist church for God's sake. That's the only way my family could accept him. You were a nice white boy, so you were acceptable, but Herman was black. It was his religion that made him acceptable." By now she had goaded my cock into nearly full recovery and she was continuing to stroke it.

"Kind of narrow minded, wasn't it?" I said as I began to pull on one of her nipples.

"Downright racist, if you ask me, but that's just one of the reasons we don't see my family much.

"God that feels good," she said, abandoning the subject of her family. Now she had both hands on my cock.

"Yeah, that plus you're afraid your family will find out just how horny we are?" I dropped my head to her breasts and began flicking a nipple with my tongue.

June giggled at my comment and then groaned softly in response to my sucking on her nipples. "Oh, let's fuck some more," she said.

By this time my cock had recovered, so I slipped it inside her, and we began fucking again. No pretense of trying to hold out for a story. We just went at it. Fuck it was good.

* * * * *

A couple of weeks later June called me at the office late in the afternoon. "The strangest thing just happened."

"Oh, what's that?"

"My sister just called me?"

"What's so strange about that? The two of you talk all the time."

"Yes, but this time she invited us to a party they're having on Friday of next week."

"Oh, that is a little different. Are we going?"

"Of course. She's my sister."

"No booze I suppose?"

"My sister and brother-in-law. Surely you jest."

"Yeah, I 'spose so. I'll get by—as long as we fuck when we get home."

"Sure, it will be a bunch of their religious friends, so we can make up a fantasy about them."

"That'll be hot," I responded. "Maybe we can dream up a whole orgy."

I paused for a moment while I tried to wrap my mind around the concept of a Baptist orgy.

Then I clicked back to reality, "Got to go to a meeting now," I said, "but if it's boring, I'll be thinking about fucking you, babe. Bye."

* * * * *

On the following Friday we showed up at Clarisse and Herman's house at the appointed hour. As predicted, the beverage was iced tea (sweetened) and the crowd was Baptist—some black and some white. I saw several likely candidates for our after-party fantasy fuck. I think there were at least four ministers in the group. My sister-in-law was dressed in a knee length dress and modest heels. Like June, Clarisse had a good size set of jugs (June's were 34Cs, but I was thinking Clarisse might even be a little bigger). The heels made her legs—what I could see of them—look great, but her chest was well concealed by the dress she was wearing.

As the crowd began to thin out and I started thinking about how to make our escape, Clarisse excused herself from a group she was talking to and walked over to me.

"Richard, can you join me out back for a moment. There's something I want to show you," she said.

"Sure," I said, thinking it was some feature of her back yard.

We walked past Herman, who was talking to a group in front of a window that faced on the back yard. They all had their backs to the window, but he was standing so that he could see most of the back deck. I saw him look very briefly at Clarisse and then turn his attention back to the group.

Clarisse and I walked through the French doors onto the deck and she took a seat on a wooden bench that faced the house. She had handed me a fresh glass of ice tea from a tray on the deck as we walked out.

Clarisse crossed her legs and let her dress ride up well above her knees. Her legs were every bit as nice as her sister's. "Are you enjoying yourself tonight, Richard?"

"Uh . . . yes," I said. I was a bit slow in recovering my attention from her legs.

"I'm sorry I couldn't serve you any wine tonight," she said. "But some of this crowd wouldn't take it too well." She un-crossed and re-crossed her legs, letting her dress slide up even higher, nearing mid-thigh. I had never seen that much of Clarisse's legs. I could feel my dick beginning to stir beneath my trousers.

I took a drink of the iced tea and discovered that it was some sort of high-test bourbon drink. "Oh, that's very good," I said.

"Yes. I had two of them and a joint before everyone came, and then I chewed up some breath mints so they couldn't smell it on my breath . . . or were you referring to my legs?" As she spoke she used a hand to pull the dress up a bit higher. I was expecting to see her panties if it got any higher.

"Both," I said. Then I had a disturbing thought. "But you know Herman is standing so he can look out the window and see us."

She smiled. "Yes, I know. He's standing there because he wants to watch. He and I talked about this before everyone arrived."

"Really?" I said, very slowly. This was well beyond anything I had ever imagined about my sister-in-law. As I spoke, she set both feet on the ground and spread her legs apart as she pulled her dress high enough to expose herself. The panties I hoped to get a glimpse of were non-existent. What I saw instead was a smoothly-shaved pussy.

"So is this what you wanted to show me?" I said as I took another slurp of the bourbon.

"Yes, and this." As she spoke, she began to stroke her glistening pussy with the fingers of one hand.

More bourbon. I could feel my prick making a tent in my trousers.

"Is this about you or about Herman?" I asked. As I spoke I slowly stroked my engorged cock through my trousers.

"Oh, a little of both. He may be a Baptist minister, but he's a horny bastard, and I'm not nearly as straight as my sister likes to think I am."

"So I see," I responded.

As I spoke, she dropped her dress back down to a respectable level. "We'd better go back inside before someone comes out to admire the garden. This was very exciting though, don't you think?"

"Yes." That was probably my understatement of the year.

"Perhaps we could have lunch next week?" she said as she took my glass, which was still half full of the bourbon and tossed it in the shrubbery. "I'll get the glass in the morning. We can't have it going back into the house with all those tea-drinking Baptists. They'll smell it in a minute, but I hope you enjoyed it."

"Very much," I said, "and I enjoyed the view."

"Good, although I can tell that from the tent in you trousers. I'm sure Herman enjoyed it, too. So Wednesday for lunch at Luigi's Italian?"

"Absolutely."

"Oh, and don't tell my sister about this. She thinks I'm really a lot straighter than I am."

"So I learned this evening. Mum's the word."

The last part was a lie. I told June everything while we were fucking our brains out an hour later. She loved it once I convinced her I wasn't playing our game where we treated our fantasy like reality. This time it was real, and it made me squirt loads of cum on her tits. She loves that.

* * * * *

The following Wednesday I showed up for lunch at Luigi's. After Clarisse's little exhibitionist session on the back porch the prior week, I was intensely curious about what she had in mind for today. I couldn't stop thinking about how erotic the session on the back porch had been (and the fucking with June that followed) and, as a result, I had about half an erection. June knew that I was having lunch with Clarisse and had made me swear to tell her what happened as soon as I finished. She was still struggling with the notion that her straight-laced sister was an exhibitionist.

The restaurant was located at one end of an enclosed shopping mall. It was more of a dinner place and typically didn't do much of a lunch trade. I wondered if that was why Clarisse had picked it—to minimize the risk of having to explain to her Baptist friends about the strange man she was having lunch with. When I entered, I looked around the mostly empty room and didn't see Clarisse. I was about to ask the maître d' when I saw her slide out of a booth at the back of the restaurant and take a step or two toward me to get my attention. She was dressed in clothes that didn't quite support June's theory of her straight-laced nature. She had on a set of black pumps that had a couple of inches more heel on them than the ones she had worn last week—definitely a pair of "fuck me" pumps. Plus, her dark skirt stopped several inches short of her knees. Damn, she has sexy legs, I thought. And her blouse was a very sheer white that let me have a pretty clear view of the lacy bra she wore beneath. Yes, I thought, her tits are bigger than June's.

I stepped up to greet her, and she quickly pulled me in for a hug and a peck on the cheek. She held it just a bit longer than would be socially correct and followed up the peck on the cheek with a sensuous lick of my ear. I could feel her big boobs smashed against my chest, and she was wearing just a trace of the most sinful perfume. It was only a moment, but it was so unlike the greeting you would expect from a Baptist minister's wife or your sister-in-law.

As we slid into the booth, she made room for me, but slowly enough so that our hips were pressed together for just a moment. Then we were sitting side-by-side, but a respectable distance apart. I noticed she had a glass of wine in front of her that she had been working on before I arrived.

Clarisse took a sip of the wine and said, "You'll join me won't you? Their house wine is a lovely Pinot Grigio, and I do so hate to drink alone."

"Of course," I said. "That's one of the easiest requests I know of to satisfy. Why would I ever let a lady drink alone?"

"June always told me you were a perfect gentleman, so we mustn't let the waiter see this," she said as she used her napkin to clean the lipstick she had left on my cheek.

As the waiter she had flagged walked towards us, she asked me, "Do you have to be back to work this afternoon?"

"It's not essential. What do you have in mind?"

"Oh, I just thought I would like to order a bottle to go with lunch, but if you have to work . . . well, a full bottle of wine over lunch would be a problem wouldn't it?"

"Oh, I've done it before. You know how customer lunches go, but I agree. I'm not very efficient if I do that. Maybe I'll just take the afternoon off and go home and lie by the pool." What I was thinking was that I would go home and spend the afternoon screwing with June. She never seemed to have any difficulty getting away from her job for a little afternoon delight.

"Hmm. That sounds delightful." She paused for a moment and then looked at me with her big brown eyes opened wide, "Oh my. I hope you didn't think I was propositioning you when I asked that."

I smiled and said, "No, of course not, although that's a lovely thought, now that you mention it."

Before she could respond, the waiter arrived. She turned toward him and said, "Can you bring us menus please, and we would like a full bottle of this lovely Pinot Grigio."

"Yes, ma'am. Right away."

As the waiter turned to go, I noticed that Clarisse had released two buttons of her blouse so that she had been showing the waiter a good deal of cleavage. Tips aren't the only way to get attention from your waiter. He was back in just a moment with a bottle of wine in an ice bucket and two fresh glasses. He took his time going through the tasting ritual as he stared down the open front of Clarisse's blouse. Eventually he got around to pouring each of us a glass of wine and then backed away to get the menus.

Once the waiter was gone, I looked over at Clarisse and said, "I believe our waiter is smitten with you."

She laughed softly and then leaned over and whispered in my ear, "I think it's my boobs he's smitten with." Before she pulled her head away she quickly caressed my ear with her tongue.

"Perhaps," I said. "In any case you are making his lunch shift."

She leaned back and released one more button on her blouse so that I really had a good view of the swelling upper portion of her boobs and the lacy bra that sort of covered them. Then she raised her glass in a toast, "Here's to spending the lunch hour teasing the waiter and making him horny."

We touched our glasses and drank. I was thinking that the waiter wasn't the only person who was going to get horny out of this lunch. As I stole occasional peeks at her tits, I found it necessary to discreetly reach under the table and adjust my slacks to make room for my swelling dick. My wandering mind couldn't avoid speculating about whether she had any panties on or not.

The waiter was quite prompt in returning with the menus and quite slow about describing the specials while he stood above us ogling Clarisse's tits. Then, before we could preempt another visit by ordering quickly, he turned on his heel and left.

By the time we got the order in, we had each gone through more than a glass of wine, and the bottle was getting down towards half empty.

"So," I said. "Was there something specific you wanted to talk about today, or did we just come here to torture the waiter?"

Clarisse smiled and took another sip of her wine. "Well, I admit that torturing the waiter is fun, but, no, I had something else in mind. But right now while we are waiting for our order, I need to visit the ladies room. I'll tell you about it when I get back."

I slid out of the booth and stood aside for her, enjoying the view of her tits the waiter had been seeing. As she slid out, she leaned toward me a bit and let her shoulder brush against my partially-erect cock that was creating a significant tent in my trousers. As she walked away I noticed a sway in her hips that I never seen Clarisse use before. The dress really was quite short.

While I was waiting, my phone beeped with a message from June, "How's lunch with my sister going? Are you ready to join her church yet?"