Irresistible Little Sister-in-law

Nancy's roommate hadn't arrived yet. I guess there were two or three days to complete the move, and the roommate was a procrastinator. Nancy arranged the beds so the headboards were against each other back to back. The girls would sleep with their heads inches apart and their feet at opposite ends of the room.

"I don't want her looking at me while I'm sleeping."

"What are you going to do if she snores?"

"It wouldn't make any difference in a room this small anyway."

"Won't she hear your little mousy noises when you aren't 'sleeping'?"

Nancy shrugged and hopped onto her bed. I leaned against a wall and admired the view. She was on her stomach with her head raised on elbows and her chin propped on hands. The front of her tank top sagged to reveal expansive cleavage and almost exposed nipples. She lay like that quite a while. My eyes darted from her display to her eyes. I am sure she knew I ogled her.

She talked about her classes and hopes about getting along with a roommate. I wasn't able to pay much attention to her words. Finally, she got bored with me an showed me out. "You have a long drive ahead of you, and you don't want to do it all in the dark do you?"

I agreed and reluctantly departed.

-----

Margo and Nancy continued to talk on the phone regularly. When spring rolled around, I drove up to collect Nancy. She lingered saying goodbye to her boyfriend for a while and made goggly noises kissing. I am sure Margo and I weren't like that. Of course, we weren't parted during our first summer because I took the whole clan to London to see the show from back stage. We had separate hotel rooms while her family was in town, but we consolidated to one love nest as soon as the 'rents and sisters left. That summer in London was magical.

The entire long drive home with Nancy was filled with glowing descriptions of the new boyfriend. They had only been dating for a few weeks because she thought he wasn't good enough for her at first. Now she regretted not taking his offers earlier in the year. I listened for clues that they were sleeping together, but I couldn't tell for sure from the information she imparted.

The summer began OK with the exception that I was kicked out of my office again. Nancy seemed much more confident and outgoing than she had a year earlier. She made friends in the village and spent days at the local coffee shop. She was there so much that I talked her into taking a job as barista and cashier. She might as well get paid while shooting the breeze all day. Plus, employees got free coffee.

Nancy's new confidence left me in a constant state of arousal. She walked around the house topless a few times. I had to pull my jaw off the floor. It didn't become old hat because it was so infrequent. I saw her skinny-dipping in the lake at night. The flood light on the end of the dock cast an artistic top down illumination accentuating her feminine curves with shadows. I admit to stroking while watching through the window even as Margo slept next to me on the bed. Worst of all, I couldn't help overhearing Nancy's phone sex conversations with her boyfriend. I had never heard of half the activities she described on the phone.

Near the end of summer, right after Nancy's 19th birthday, Margo informed me she wanted to go to Peru for six months with her boss, Deidier. There was some conference and "first peoples" art exhibit he was arranging. I didn't want her to be away for so long, but I also didn't want to stand in the way of an opportunity that obviously delighted her.

Margo and I flew to Peru together and spent a week living in a tent in the mountains. Deidier and each of the assistants had their own small tents, but the camp site was primitive. I was surprised Margo would tolerate a shared latrine for six months. She assured me she was content.

I eventually returned home without Margo. One of the main reasons was that Nancy was out of money for groceries. Even if she overcame that hurdle, she would soon need a ride back to McGill. Plus, I didn't want to disappoint my technical writing clients any more than necessary.

It was a long lonely fall and then a lonely winter. I offered to fly to Peru at Christmas and a few other times, but Margo told me not to. She said she was too busy and would be home soon anyway. I shouldn't have listened to her.

When I greeted Margo at the airport in March, she was obviously pregnant. It turned out she was four months along and wanted to leave me to raise her child with Deidier. That was an uncomfortable ride home from the airport. She later confessed she started fucking Deidier before she even heard about the trip to South America. It was going on for a year behind my back. He wasn't the first either. Not all of those late nights at the university were about work after all.

I kept reasonably calm. I had an almost out-of-body experience hearing her fairly brag about infidelities. I wanted to know why she did it.

"I still love you," she insisted. "I just think my baby deserves to grow up with his father and mother together."

"Why did you do it? Wasn't I enough for you? I thought we were in love, and I offered sex all the time."

"I don't know. I liked the way they looked at my body and the way they made me feel. I wanted other men inside me. I just needed it."

"I would have done anything to meet your needs."

"I know. You've always been gentle and kind. I'm glad you were my first. I just couldn't stand the idea that you would be my last."

We made love one more time that night - for old times sake. Neither of us had our heart in it. I briefly flirted with the idea of trying to show her I was a fabulous lover. In the end, I just grunted and shot my long overdue load. Then I lay awake in Nancy's room listening to Margo cry all night across the hall in our bedroom.

She moved out and drove away with Deidier the next day. I was still in shock. She agreed to an uncontested divorce settlement. She even returned her engagement ring. I gradually sunk into a lonely depression that kept me from working. I pictured Margo squirming with pleasure under other men. I felt violated imagining other men inside my wife. I became a virtual hermit in my empty little cottage. I grieved as if she died, and in a way she did from my perspective.

-----

Spring came, and I was moping out on the dock when the phone rang inside. It hadn't rung for days and startled me. It was Nancy on the line.

"Can you come get me a little early on Sunday morning?"

"Um, what?"

"From school! I need a ride home for the summer. My internship fell through, and I need a place to stay."

"Nancy, have you been talking to Margo?"

"Of course. We talk a lot."

"Why don't you stay with Deidier then?"

"Who's Deidier?"

"Your sister didn't tell you she left me and is having Deidier's baby?"

"Oh my god. Don't say things like that. It's not funny!"

"No, it isn't." I hung up the phone.

None of Margo's family knew the sordid tale. After talking to Nancy, Dad actually called me to apologize. He warmed to me over the years, and now he felt like the family honor was betrayed. Mom worried about me. Nancy somehow convinced me she needed to stay at my place over the summer just to look out for me. Yes, it seemed a little self serving to me too. She still didn't get along with her parents and would do almost anything to avoid moving back with them.

I picked Nancy up early Sunday morning as commanded. She hugged me and explained how sorry she was. I didn't care or listen. The ride was quiet until I asked about her boyfriend.

"Hah? That's a laugh. Turns out he bats for the other team."

"What do you mean?"

"He likes sausage more than taco... He's gay."

"How could that be? I overheard some of your phone sex. That did not sound gay to me."

"You heard that? I'm so embarrassed. That was private!"

"Still, how could he be gay?"

"I wasn't talking to Dan."

"Who was it then?"

"It was one of my professors. We could never hookup because He's married. We just got each other off for fun on the side."

"What is it with you girls and professors," I lamented.

Nancy pondered my question for a while. When I almost forgot about it, her thoughtful answer surprised me: "Well, I think he reminded me of you a bit."

"Say what?"

"You're kind of bookish with your writing and everything. I had a crush on you since the first time I met you. You were unavailable. He was unavailable. I talked to him the way I wanted to talk to you.

"I fantasized about it for years. I imagined you touching Margo. I was so jealous. It almost ruined the relationship between Margo and me. The whole reason I ran away is because my parents took the doors off my bathroom and my bedroom. I was obsessed with my fantasies, and they wouldn't let me have any privacy at all."

"Wow! That's quite a revelation. Did Margo know about all this?"

"Not at first, but I eventually confided in her. Don't get hurt feelings, but living with you was the best medicine. You became a real person instead of a fantasy. The 'real' you just wasn't as attractive to me anymore. I found other things to think about in private."

"Now I do feel bad."

"Don't do that! I really love you, brother. You're any girl's dream boyfriend."

"I just wasn't an adequate husband."

"Don't talk like that. Margo has her own issues. I knew about some of them before she even met you. She acted all proper to please Dad, but I think she would have fucked the first boy she met at college no matter what."

"I feel better and better. Thanks."

"It's not like that. Mom and Dad were secretly thrilled you proposed. They were afraid she might get knocked up by a stranger. At least they knew she was screwing her future husband."

"You mean she wasn't a virgin when I met her?"

"I don't actually know. She used to sneak out of the house to meet boys. Maybe she kept her legs crossed all those times."

"She told me she had never been on a date!"

"I wouldn't call what she did 'dates' either."

"Oh, great."

"You're not the only victim here you know. I had to live with my parents overreacting to everything. I couldn't even enjoy the solo scene because my parents thought I was becoming a raving sex maniac."

"It doesn't make sense. She was always so demure and dispassionate."

"That's just it. From the beginning, she thought you were like Dad. She didn't want to disappoint you or make you ashamed. She probably stepped out so she could do all the depraved things she desired without having to reveal her sins to you. If she was ashamed of her actions anyway, how much extra thrill and shame came from the infidelity part? Hell, I thought she was making a real breakthrough when she dragged me into the bathroom to watch you perform. I thought she was really loosening up."

"I wondered if that was you. And by the way, are you studying Psychology or what up there?"

"You know I'm studying Political Science, but that's actually close to Psychology."

We drove through the afternoon in silence for a long while before my thoughts hit my tongue. "I still think about that day in the shower. It got me excited to think it might have been you."

"You're not the only one buddy." Her smile was radiant.

-----

In spite of our mutual revelations during the car ride, I consciously chose not to immediately explore the possibility of an intimate relationship with Nancy. I recognized the opportunity. She admitted an attraction at least. Maybe I was too depressed. Maybe I still saw her as immature in spite of the apparent changes in her world view. I think I resented her for being outwardly so much like Margo.

We enjoyed a nice meal at my favorite restaurant near home. As we left, some of her friends from the previous summer greeted her. A plan was hatched amongst them, and I drove home alone. Nancy would get a ride when the time came.

I relished the empty house knowing it would soon be full and noisy again. I cleared my current work out of the office to make room for my guest. I thought about a quick pull to help me get to sleep, but then I realized, "What's the point. I'll wake when she gets here and won't fall back to sleep easily."

The weather was chill for spring as the sun set. At least the cold would keep the bugs at bay. I dragged my favorite Lay-z-boy recliner out onto the dock and snuggled with a blanket and a paperback under the flood light. The book bored me to sleep as planned.

I awoke to the sound of a large splash. Nancy cried out in shock from the cold water. What was she thinking? The air was only 50 degrees, and the water couldn't have been much warmer. I jumped from my chair and ran around the side of the dock to meet her as she scrambled out of the lake. She was completely bare and delightful to behold. The blue tint to her flesh was a bit disconcerting though. I wrapped myself around the gorgeous 19 year old to warm her, and suddenly, thoughts of hypothermia fell right out of consideration.

When blood returned to my brain, I regretted not bringing the blanket in my haste. She stood passive and shivering on the pebbly shore. My concerns elevated because she was unresponsive. It was amazing she continued to stand. I eventually yanked my own thick shirt over my head and used the shirt as a towel. It's funny what you remember in a crisis: The images of my own hand rubbing drops off her firm backside and sliding the shirt through her curly pubic hair are etched in gray matter, but I can't recall any other details. When every last drop was removed, we staggered up to the dock and draped her in my still warm blanket.

I was about to run inside and call the ambulance when she finally responded to my urgent demands, "Nancy, answer me! Are you all right?"

"So ccolddd. Take me inside."

I ran a hot bath and sat on the edge of the tub while she soaked. Her long slender legs didn't fit while she slumped to maximize the submersion of her core. I rubbed her calves and feet vigorously with a towel to warm them as much as possible. They remained cold to the touch. Color was only slightly returning at the extremities. She could have died.

I ended up tucking her naked body into bed and covering her with a hot comforter fresh from the dryer. She must have believed she would never be warm again. When she asked me to stay and use my body to warm her, I declined. Instead, I ran another blanket through the dryer. By the time I lay the new blanket over her, she was asleep. It was so heartening to see pink cheeks and ruby red lips that I risked touching my own lips to her forehead. She made a purring sound but didn't wake.

The next morning, Nancy marched into my room without even knocking and bounced onto my bed. I was already mostly awake, but it irritated me to have my space invaded so casually. Nancy sported a pair of my ratty old flannel pajamas and looked lost inside them. The sleeves extended inches beyond her wrists and one hand was occupied to keep the pants from falling over her hips. The buttons from the fly were long gone. Fabric gaped open to tease me with glimpses of her creamy thighs.

"Thank you for saving me."

"You were so drunk. I think the alcohol in your blood acted like antifreeze."

"Yah, I don't even remember being in the water. I just remember making the stupid decision to jump. I was expecting the warm water from last summer and wanted to give you a show."

"You scared me to death!"

"I'm still cold. Can I snuggle with you for a while? I don't feel safe all alone."

"Don't you want some breakfast? Are you hung over? Do you need liquids or aspirin?"

"No thanks. I just want cuddles."

"I guess."

She peeled the one blanket I kept for myself all the way down. I was wearing briefs and thankfully didn't have my typical morning erection. She checked. Quickly, she lay against me with her cheek on my shoulder and her legs wrapped around mine. The flannel pressed against me felt good. I remembered the close bond I always enjoyed spooning with Margo. The realization only angered me. I gruffly fished the blanked up over us and stared at the ceiling to get my emotions under control. Nancy snored softly. Each breath tickled my neck.

I awoke again to the sensation of Nancy's index finger sliding over my underwear along the length of my bulging stiffy. I had no idea how long she had been doing that, but autonomic functions of my body were well beyond the initial reaction stage, and I was worried I might pop. That's an uncomfortable state when your conscious mind isn't yet engaged.

I smacked her hand away from me and scampered out of bed. "Out! Get out. I am sick and tired of the way you keep inviting yourself further and further into my life. What gives you the right?"

"Don't be like that!" Her face fell. "I thought you liked me."

"You're my wife's sister, and the divorce papers aren't even final yet. I'm pretty unhappy with your whole family! Nobody thought to tell me I was marrying a deceitful whore?"

"We thought she changed! You were so good for her. We wanted both of you to be happy."

"Don't give me that crap. You were all glad to pawn your problem off on me. You're all a bunch of fucking actresses and hypocrites. Your father is the worst of all."

"Don't lump me in with them!"

"Just get out!"

"Out of your bed? Out of your house? Out of your life?"

"Start by getting out of my bedroom."

She stomped petulantly to the door. The flannel pants hung down to reveal half of one naked ass cheek.

"And buy some damn groceries for once!" I yelled after she slammed the door shut.

-----

Naked under flannel pajamas became the new standard bedtime attire. There were teasing glimpses of flesh when the bottoms sagged or the neck of the shirt slumped. Almost seeing a nipple is even more erotic that seeing. One of my breakfast bowls of cereal went uneaten because I was distracted by the sight of her stretching after a yawn. The pants rode so low on her hips that I saw pubic hair. The long lean muscles of her loins stretched to maximum extension. Arms extended above her head raising the shirt enough to expose the merest hint of the bottom of her breasts.

It continued like that for weeks. I was home all day with school out and no clients. She left the house most days to work at the coffee shop. She even purchased groceries once or twice. We spoke civilly to each other but avoided intimate conversation by unspoken agreement.

The days grew warm, and the flannel pants were discarded in favor of sheer panties. She continued to wear the oversize shirt but rolled the sleeves up and left it unbuttoned much of the time. My cock suffered perpetual tumescence in spite of twice daily jerks. The sexual tension only intensified -- at least for me. Nancy remained infuriatingly casual about it.

On the day my divorce papers arrived in the mail, my reserve finally broke. "Nancy! Get dressed in something nice. I want to take you to dinner and celebrate."

"I can't," she called back through her door. "I have a date."

"What?"

An hour later, I watched her drive away in some boy's car following the same route as Margo and Deidier. I was furious. I examined my own emotions, but I couldn't shake building jealousy. Every ounce of anger and betrayal repressed with respect to Margo now surged with respect to Nancy. I suddenly couldn't stand to spend another night in my own cottage. Flashbacks cut me.

I drove to Burlington and got a room at the Hampton Inn by the airport. The next morning, I mailed my signed divorce papers and called my lawyer. I instructed him to put the cottage on the market and negotiate a sale. I told him Nancy could stay until the sale closed, and then she had to be out. I even told him to have the sheriff evict her if necessary. When I was sure everything was in order, I drove down to my uncle and aunt's farm. I told them I planned to spend some time finding myself abroad. I took care of some long overdue banking including the closure of my joint account with Margo.