Editor’s note: this story contains scenes of incest or incest content.
*****
You are sitting under the tree with your sister-in-law, the family presents dutifully displayed around the base. Your excited children are finally in bed and your husband is out for the evening with his pals. You don’t expect him back before midnight. Suzy suggests a bottle of wine and opens a box of chocolates. It’s been a long week, the final one in the office before the holidays always is, so you think ‘what the hell’ and accept a generously filled glass. Your sister-in-law is a few years younger than you, but she looks slightly bedraggled in your husband’s scruffy blue towelling dressing gown and an old pair of his cotton pyjamas. She’s had a rough couple of months with the separation and divorce. You didn’t really want her to stay, something about her makes you feel uncomfortable, self-conscious, but you couldn’t turn her away, not at Christmas.
The wine tastes so good that before you realise it the first bottle is empty. Not to be deterred, Suzy collects another from the kitchen while you sit and wait. She dims the main lights, so you can enjoy the twinkling fairy lights together.
“Let’s play a game”, she says. “Simon Says.”
“Okay.” The alcohol has gone straight to your head.
It all begins innocently enough. Suzy pats the top of her head, you pat the top of your head. She pulls a silly face, you pull a silly face. You both laugh aloud. Your sister-in-law loosens her frayed belt and slips a hand under the folds of her robe. You hesitate.
“Touch yourself,” she whispers, holding your complete attention with her wide brown eyes. Suzy pulls back the flap of her gown. “Use just the tip of your finger, moving it slowly up and down. Like this.”
You sense the danger, but inexplicably you ignore it. You lift the hem of your skirt, the one you wore to work today, and lightly scratch the soft cotton of your panties with a manicured nail. It tickles your sensitive skin. You smile at Suzy all gooey-eyed. You can’t stop yourself, not yet, even though you know you should. Each stroke is sending a delicious tingle all the way down your spine. It feels so good. Your sister-in-law shuffles closer. Nudging your hand aside, she replaces it with her own. Her palm squeezes your panties, pressing against the excited flesh. You’re paralysed. Her mouth seeks yours and your lips yield. You are kissing your sister-in-law, French kissing, your tongues entwined. Suzy grabs your hand, guiding it between her thighs. You know exactly what she wants you to do and you do it. You’ve lost your moral compass, cast adrift from any rational thought by new and dangerous passions. Meanwhile shameless Suzy dives inside your panties, stretching you and the elasticated waistband to snapping point. Her finger slides between your lips like a needle on a record player and finds the well-worn groove. Your sister-in-law probably doesn’t even remember LPs or cassettes, but that no longer matters as she circles your clit.
The tension is unbearable. You want to come, you are going to come. The final stages of sexual arousal feel surprisingly lonely, intensifying your desperation to connect with Suzy, to share everything with her. You unbutton the fly of your husband’s loose pyjama bottoms, your hand scrabbling through the flap. Her wetness envelopes your fingers, fitting them like a velvet-lined glove. Somehow you are still playing the silly game, copying her every move, reciprocating her every caress. You are breathing Ümraniye Escort much faster, erratically, synchronously, loudly. You should be worried about waking the children, you are both making too much noise, but you are so close now that nothing else matters. Suzy comes first, the ring of muscles contracting tightly around your stabbing fingers. She cries out your name, you like that, and you longingly kiss her mouth. Your body begins to throb, succumbing to wave after wave of pleasure. It gradually fades away, abandoning you to face the consequences.
There is a brief moment, when you cling to her like a shipwrecked castaway, that you believe that you will both come to your senses and that calmer heads will soon prevail. There are a million reasons why this is wrong, why you should put an end to this madness, but you cannot recall a single one. Instead, you find yourself sat on the couch with your sister-in-law kneeling dutifully at your feet.
Suzy’s smooth hands sweep across the top of your thighs, pushing back your crumpled skirt to your waist. You feel helpless as she peels off your sweaty nylon tights and then returns for your panties. Cool air circulates around your crotch, but not for long. Your sister-in-law kisses your trembling knee, moving inside, moving deeper. You brace yourself, but her impact startles your body nonetheless. Her mouth hums like a busy bee against your pussy, collecting the sticky beads of nectar. Your petals unfurl, you are flowering again. Her rasping tongue dips inside your honey pot and you are overwhelmed with new pleasure. Gasping for air, you lift your open legs on to her narrow shoulders, squeezing her head between your squirming thighs, drowning her in your flowing juices. Suzy’s appetite seems to be insatiable, her resolve indefatigable. You don’t remember a time when you managed it more than once with your husband, but here you are with your sister-in-law again on a rising wave. It continues to grow, bigger and bigger, teasing you, scaring you. When it finally breaks, the climax is nothing like you have ever experienced. It is endless ecstasy, it is a total wipeout. You pull Suzy up from the floor and kiss her mouth. You smell your musk and taste your saltiness on her lips. Your expectations will never be the same.
The silver clock on the mantle piece says it is only half past nine. It was a wedding present from your husband’s parents. His mother never really liked you. So you imagine what the battle-axe would say if she were to find you sitting on the sofa now with her beloved daughter Suzy, your sister-in-law, kissing and cuddling like randy teenagers.
It appears that Suzy likes you, a lot, and you wonder if you feel the same way about her. Your sister-in-law is a pretty blonde with mysterious eyes that shift colour from grey to green depending on the light and her mood. They are sparkling like emeralds right now. Suzy’s dressing gown hangs open, the shirt buttons mostly undone. You slip your hands between the cotton and her skin, tracing the outline of her perky breasts with your fingers, around and around in directionless circles.
“Oh, that’s nice,” Suzy says. You like her compliments. “Let’s go upstairs and get comfy.”
Your husband will not be back for at least another couple of hours. Although you’ve already climaxed twice, your greedy body remains stubbornly aroused. Yet it wouldn’t feel right, not in the matrimonial bed that you share with her brother.
“No, I can’t,” you mumble. “What Ümraniye Escort Bayan if we were to wake the children?”
You see that Suzy is disappointed, her eyes already questioning your commitment. After all you’ve had your fun and by rights it is her turn. You should perhaps go down on her, but you are feeling a bit squeamish and not yet prepared to go full lesbian.
“We can stay here,” she says, sweetly lifting a fallen curl from your furrowed brow. “You don’t have to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable.”
“Thank you.” You sigh, relieved.
You stand up and let Suzy take off the rest of your dishevelled clothes. There isn’t much, just a blouse, a bra and your crumpled work skirt. The unattended log fire went out a while ago, but you don’t feel the cold. Suzy does a little striptease and you wantonly admire her nakedness. She lays you gently back down on the sofa, placing a cushion under your head. Snug between the padded upholstered arms, your knees slightly bent, you watch and wait as your sister-in-law towers above you and takes a last sip of her wine. This is reckless, dangerous, exciting. If anyone finds you together now, there is nowhere to hide.
Your sister-in-law climbs on top, your bodies merging to become one. Every curve fits perfectly together like the correct pieces of a complicated jigsaw puzzle. Her intimate warmth wraps around you like a soft blanket. Suzy rotates her gentle hips, her loins rubbing against your own. Plush supple flesh meets hard pubic bone. Tremors radiate outwards like shockwaves through your loins, shaking your foundations. Your sister-in-law is making love to you, a fuck without any penetration, yet as physical and intimate as any man. You grab her bottom, digging into her pert cheeks with your fingernails. You urge her on. Suzy is going faster and harder. You are bouncing off the sofa, off each other, the frenzied rhythm becoming increasingly discordant. Your sister-in-law comes first, her last exultations no more than a guttural whine, her last powerful thrust driving you deep into the cushions. Whether it is the sight of her unbridled joy or the shudder of her intense contractions, the combined effect triggers your third orgasm. Your souls merge in a dream-like ecstasy, minds and bodies bound together in a state of bliss. You never want this moment to end, but it must, always. You hold her tight, finally consumed by weariness and contentment.
“I love you,” Suzy says, curled up on your chest. You say nothing.
A while later, close to eleven, you dress in silence, feeling awkward and embarrassed. Suzy offers to make a cup of tea and disappears to the kitchen. Left alone in the living room, you tuck in your blouse and straighten your skirt. There is a mirror on the wall above the fireplace. Your make-up is smudged, your hair is a mess, but you have a confident glow. In the downstairs hall you meet Suzy with two steaming mugs and a couple of mince pies.
“I’m going to tidy up a bit,” you say, gesturing towards the upstairs bathroom.
“Good idea,” Suzy replies, “I’ll put the television on.”
You hesitate, suddenly wrong footed by your sister-in-law’s calm and slightly aloof reaction. Overwhelmed by emotion, you blurt out, “Oh God, Suzy, what have we done? What happens now?”
Suzy smiles and, still juggling the tea tray, kisses you tenderly on the lips.
“That, my dear, is for you to decide. Your husband, my brother, will be home soon enough and we need to be ready Escort Ümraniye for that. Neither you nor I are in the mood for a quick confession, no doubt, and therefore we will sleep on it. In the morning, you will have most certainly convinced yourself that it was all a terrible mistake, a terrible drunken mistake, or perhaps you will blame me, the harlot, for your confused feelings and divided loyalties. Either way you will start the day avoiding me.” Suzy pauses, letting the lesson sink in. “But I am a glass half-full kind of girl, so I imagine that sometime after Christmas dinner, we will finally be alone again in the kitchen with the dirty dishes. Your husband will be asleep on the couch, supposedly watching the children while they play with their toys. I will put my arms around your waist and kiss the back of your neck. You will tell me to stop, but I won’t, because I will know that you really don’t want me to.”
“You seem to have this all worked out,” you reply, trying to make it sound like a rebuke.
You rush up the stairs without a backwards glance, hiding how much her words, her confidence, has turned you on. This evening was no accident. It wasn’t an innocent game that simply went too far. Your sister-in-law planned it all. This is her fantasy, you tell yourself, not yours, while washing your face in the bathroom. However, your imagination is already running away with itself. What if you take her into the pantry, where you are sure that no one can see you, you kiss her and she tells you again that she loves you and… just the thought of it all makes you feel dizzy.
By the time you have tidied up your make up, your husband has returned. You join them, your husband and your lover, in the living room, where he has already eaten your mince pie. He is drunk, which is just as well, because the tension between his dutiful wife and his sweet little sister is palpable. You are relieved when Suzy announces that she is going to bed, but you are also pleased when your paths cross on the landing.
“Everything alright?” Suzy asks, gesturing towards the bedroom.
“Yes, I think so,” you reply. “He passed out on the bed.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, her eyes looking at the carpet. “Your husband is my brother, your family is my family. I never wanted to hurt them. I don’t want to rock the boat.”
“I don’t know what I want anymore,” you whisper, honestly. “I like you, Suzy. I love my husband, my children, and I thought I could never do anything to hurt them. Tonight should not have happened, but it did. I am so confused, my head is spinning.”
“It can be our little secret,” she says with a grin. “No one has to know. Who would suspect a respectable married woman and her sister-in-law of having an affair?”
Suzy looks adorable. You look into her eyes and see reflected back all your own tumultuous emotions. She takes your hand, tugging you into the bathroom. You press her trembling body against the tiled wall and kiss her mouth. It feels wonderful. Her arm snakes its way between you, her hand pressing down your skirt, sliding between your thighs. You should tell her to stop it right now.
“We need to be careful,” you say, not eager to heed your own advice. Her palm is massaging your groin, rekindling your insatiable desire. It takes all your willpower to finally grab her wrist. “I mean it. Please go to bed. We will talk tomorrow. I promise.”
With a chastened look, Suzy scurries to the door. She lingers at the opening, trying to tempt you one last time. You watch her creep across the landing into the guest room, before checking on the children. Lying awake beside your snoring husband, you cannot sleep. You are afraid, excited. You know that you are fooling yourself about Suzy, fooling yourself that you can control these blossoming feelings for her.