Sister-In-Law Ch. 1

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Sunita is faced with a dilemma.
5.7k words
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178.2k
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Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 09/27/2022
Created 04/29/2002
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When Sunita saw the postman come up the walkway, she had no premonition that her safe, contented little world was about to collapse at her feet. Despite the bleak February skies, the dark- haired young woman's spirits were sunny that fateful morning. Humming a carefree tune, Sunita dried her hands on the kitchen towel and went to get the day's mail. The voluptuous beauty felt only mild curiosity when she saw the envelope addressed to Mrs. Sunita. Probably just some ad, she thought, placing the rest of the mail on top of the television set.

It wasn't until she tore open the envelope, and its contents spilled out, that a horrified gasp escaped her throat. Sunita's hand flew to her mouth and her face flushed crimson. Her heart hammered like that of a captive bird as she clutched the letter with trembling hands.

DO YOU WANT YOUR HUSBAND TO SEE THESE? the scrawled message read. THINK ABOUT IT, SWEET SUNITA. BECAUSE YOU'LL SOON BE HEARING FROM ME AGAIN!

A strangled sob tore from her throat as she bent to retrieve the photographs that had fallen to the floor. Pictures Sunita had hoped, desperately, that she would never see again, that she had tried to shove into some dark and distant corner of her mind. Still, there had always been that nagging fear that someday, they would turn up again to threaten her happiness. As Sunita lifted the lurid photos, her hands trembled, for she knew that that dreaded someday had arrived! The sordid past she had tried to escape had finally caught up with her, threatening to rob her of all that she held so dear. Her beloved husband Vishal and their precious daughter Jaya.

Vishal loved Sunita, trusted her, held her on a pedestal. "Meree pyaree Sunita," he often whispered as he held her close. "Tumhare jaise patni milke mujhe bahut kushee hai!"

Every time Vishal uttered those words, Sunita felt a wave of guilt ripple through her, for she was not as sweet and innocent as her husband imagined. And the tall, shapely brunette whispered a silent prayer that her past would remain buried. She feared that Vishal would be hopelessly disillusioned if he ever learned the ugly truth, that the wife he held in such high esteem had posed for pornographic photos before they were married! Sunita had agonized countless times over the possibility of Vishal's discovery of her sordid past, wondering what would happen if that fearful day should ever arrive. And she always came up with the same frightening answer.

"He'll divorce me," she whispered to the empty room, her hand clutching her constricted throat. "And take my darling Jaya away from me, declare me an unfit mother!" The mere thought of that occurring made Sunita's lips tremble and her green eyes fill with tears. She loved her husband and daughter with all her heart. They were Sunita's whole world now. They had completely filled the emptiness that had settled after her mother's death five years before. Sunita had not really begun to live until she met Vishal. The four years of their marriage, despite its problems, had been the happiest Sunita had ever known. And little Jaya was the precious living product of their love. The twenty-three-year-old felt her heart wrench with pain as she clutched the anonymous letter in her shaking hand, for she could not bear to lose either one of them.

Who could have sent the letter? she wondered, her mouth dry as she stared at the lewd poses she had participated in before she met Vishal. Who had finally unveiled the ugly truth about her, unearthed the dark secret that Sunita had tried, all these years, to keep hidden? That she had needed money so desperately during the final months of her mother's lengthy illness, that she had reluctantly agreed to perform lewd sex acts in front of a camera.

Sunita had not wanted to resort to pornographic modeling, but she had no other choice. Her modest secretarial salary just would not stretch to cover the skyrocketing bills resulting from her mother's illness. When she had tried out for fashion modeling, tall and curvaceous Sunita was told that she was not at all suitable for modeling clothes, for her eye-catching figure was far too voluptuous.

Not long afterward, Sunita saw the newspaper advertisement for a photographer's model. MUST BE ATTRACTIVE AND HAVE GOOD FIGURE, the ad stated. Sunita answered the ad eagerly. When she heard how well the job paid, her spirits soared. Especially when the photographer assured her that she was perfect for the type of modeling he needed. The new medicine that the doctor had prescribed for her mother's pain was so expensive that Sunita worried about how she was going to manage to have it refilled. There were no other relatives to turn to for financial assistance, and her mother was solely dependent on Sunita. Landing this lucrative modeling job was the perfect answer to her financial problems.

It was not until she actually showed up for her first session before the camera, that Sunita discovered just what type of modeling the job entailed. At first, she was tempted to walk out and never return. The things she was expected to do made her cheeks flush crimson. Then she remembered, with a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, that she had just received another lofty medical bill the day before for laboratory tests her mother had required. To add to her problems, she was almost out of the expensive pain-killing drug that her mother needed to lessen the agony of the dreaded killer disease ravishing her wasted body. And Sunita knew, with a heavy feeling of resignation, that she had no choice in the matter. She needed money desperately and this was the only way she could get it. I'll do it for mother, she told herself as she started to remove her clothing. And no one need ever know!

That had been five years ago. Death had claimed her mother just a few months after Sunita had begun her secret, part-time modeling. When her mother died, Sunita quit her extra job immediately. With her mother's insurance money, she was able to clear up the remainder of the staggering medical bills. Trying to put what she had done out of necessity out of her mind, Sunita never stepped in front of the camera again. She was not proud of what she had done, but Sunita knew that it had been unavoidable. She would do it again, if she had the opportunity to go backward in time, because she received some small comfort from the knowledge that her beloved mother had suffered far less because of the money Sunita had earned from her secret and sordid job. It's all in the past now, Sunita tried to tell herself, as she concentrated solely on her secretarial position. And no one need ever know!

Six months later, she had met Vishal and he more than compensated for the unhappiness she'd known during the trying time of her mother's terminal illness. After a whirlwind courtship, they became husband and wife. Now, after caring for her mother for so long, Sunita finally had someone to look after her. Six years her senior, Vishal treated her as though she were made of spun glass. He proved to be everything a woman could ask for in a husband. Well, almost everything.

The only quality really missing from their relationship was sexual fulfillment. Although Sunita found her two-hundred-pound, six-foot husband extremely attractive, something was definitely lacking in their marriage bed. Vishal was a gentle, considerate lover, but not very demanding or adventuresome. He treated Sunita like some fragile china doll, and somehow Sunita longed for more. Although she hated herself for her lustful thoughts, the pretty woman found herself thinking, longingly, about some of the lewd sexual activities she'd engaged in during her brief, secret modeling career. The men who were her partners had been strangers to her, but still, Sunita recalled with ripples of both excitement and shame, she had responded to their touch. She had been instructed to portray pleasure in front of the camera and Sunita did as she was told. Only she knew that the response she displayed was often genuine, that she secretly enjoyed the lustful acts she was performing for money.

I must be oversexed, Sunita often thought, her cheeks burning with shame.

Sunita found herself thinking that often after she and Vishal were married. If our sex life is enough for Vishal, why can't it be enough for me? she often wondered. Sunita dreamed, in vain, about the day that she would know complete and total satisfaction after their lovemaking. Instead, the well-stacked beauty felt a vague dissatisfaction. Just once, she wished that Vishal would take her roughly and savagely pound his big pole of masculinity into her cock- hungry cunt, making her gasp with both pleasure and pain. She secretly fantasized about hearing him use the same coarse language that the actors used during the pornographic sessions, of having him cry out to her in wild abandon instead of remaining silent while they made love.

Sunita found herself wishing that her husband would demand that she suck his cock the way she had sucked the big pricks that had been Vishalmed in her throat as the camera clicked. Even though she cared nothing for the male models she had worked with, Sunita had liked the feel of their warm meat in her mouth. During her brief career, she had learned to suck cock with admirable expertise, so that her sex partners climaxed fast and hard, spilling their hot semen into her waiting mouth. Sunita did not have to pretend when she felt their torrid cargo explode in her mouth. The lustful gleam in her eyes was genuine as she eagerly swallowed their hot juices. Just as the frantic swirl of her pelvis was real when her male partners fucked her with gusto, cVishalming their merciless rods into her heated cunt from every imaginable position. Sunita had learned a great deal during her brief but torrid career. Not only about sex but about herself. And she inwardly feared that she might be oversexed.

She had hoped that marriage to a big hunk like Vishal would put a stop to the secret longings of her ripe body, that her husband would be the passionate and demanding lover she ached for. Instead, Vishal had proved to be merely adequate in bed. Even though Sunita reached a climax when her husband made love to her, hers was a shallow response, a mere mild fluttering within her saturated vaginal walls. And Sunita yearned for so much more!

The thought of cheating on Vishal, however, never entered the shapely beauty's mind. Sunita devoted herself to her husband with the same fervor she'd dedicated herself to her mother. The happiness of those she loved always came first with Sunita. That's why she never told Vishal of her unfulfilled and persistent sexual desires. First of all, she did not want to hurt his masculine pride by intimating that he was lacking as far as his sexual prowess was concerned. Second, Sunita was convinced that Vishal preferred her to remain passive in bed, that he wanted her to play the role of the sweet, innocent wife in every aspect of their marriage, so she remained silent. And she turned to a vibrator to satisfy the secret cravings of her frustrated pussy. She kept the plastic pseudo-prick hidden in her dresser drawer. It was only when she was alone that she used the mechanical aid to help satisfy the throbbings of her heated cunt. Then, Sunita would spread her legs and send the penis-shaped piece of plastic far into her leaking aperture, shoving it in and out with the gusto she wished Vishal would show during their lovemaking. It was then, and only then, that the voluptuous brunette would cry out in wild abandon, the way she did not dare cry out with her husband.

"Chodh mujhe, Jorse chodh mujhe!" she would gasp, her legs trembling as she masturbated with vigor. "Aur jorser, aur andhar tak!" she'd beg, thrilling to the forceful penetrations of the whirling vibrator. "Meree chooth ko chodh!" she'd cry, pretending that her husband was screwing her the way she secretly wished that he would. Although the vibrating sex-gadget did not take the place of a real, live prick, it helped to relieve some of Sunita's frustrations. And it kept her from turning to other men for fulfillment of her lusty sexual appetite.

Now, as the curvaceous young woman gazed at the lurid photos of herself which had come in the morning mail, she felt a tension building in her luscious body. Her temples throbbing as she wondered about the anonymous sender. Who had unearthed her dark past? And now that this blackmailer was on to her, what did he or she want?

Sunita grew tense, for she had no way of paying off a blackmailer. She had no money of her own at all. Even though she had been the sole beneficiary of her mother's insurance policy, the woman's monumental medical bills had consumed every penny. And Vishal gave just a small personal allowance in addition to her household money. Scarcely enough to grease a greedy palm. Vishal just didn't make that kind of money. Although they lived comfortably on the profits of his small television repair shop, it required careful budgeting.

How can I silence him? Sunita wondered, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip so hard that she almost drew blood. Sunita did not know the answer to her dilemma. But as her eyes passed over the painfully familiar photographs she'd received in the morning mail, the lovely young wife knew that she would do anything she possibly could to keep her beloved husband from seeing those pictures. And she also knew that she had been living on borrowed time. The four years of happiness she had known with Vishal had come to an abrupt end, while a private hell had just begun. She was now at the mercy of some unknown and unscrupulous individual, one who possessed the frightening power to destroy her marriage!

As Sunita viewed each pornographic pose from her past, she became aware of another kind of tension mounting within. Along with her trepidation, she felt an undeniable sexual excitement course through her. Although she was ashamed of her reaction, she could not stop the ripples of desire from washing over her body. One photograph showed Sunita naked and bent, sprawled before a male who was denuded of all but a lascivious expression as he shoved his big swollen prick into her widely stretched mouth. The voluptuous beauty licked her full lips as she gazed at the photo, remembering how good that warm joint had felt inside her receptive oral cavity. The rapturous expression on her face was genuine as she sucked obediently for the cameVishalan. Sunita recalled the unmatched bittersweet flavor of masculine juices against her tongue ... and her mouth watered. How thrilled she would be if one day her good-looking, well-built husband would grab her by the hair, the way the model in the lewd photo was doing, and force her to go down on him and take his Vishalpaging cock fully in her prick-hungry mouth.

Sunita's voluminous breasts rose and fell rapidly as she breathed harder. Her heartbeat quickening, she turned to another photo, her pussy fluttering wildly at the shockingly prurient pose. Her jade eyes grew dreamy as she gazed at her widely split legs as she saw herself lying on a kitchen table. Her gaping cuntal petals flowered boldly before the camera, their pink folds swollen and glistening with the nectar of her arousal as the handsome face of a male model nestled between her obscenely outspread legs. His pointed tongue stretched forward, its wet tip probing her sensitive cuntal lips.

Mmmmmmmmm, how good his tongue felt! Sunita recalled as she looked at the familiar photo. She remembered how she had begged him to keep on licking her cunt even when the camera had stopped clicking. Before they had moved on to another lurid pose, Sunita had grabbed her partner's head and held it between her outstretched, trembling legs, pleading with him to make her cum! She felt a slow warmth steal across her pelvis as she remembered how the man had accommodated her, flicking his raspy tongue back and forth and up and down until she cried out in sweet release, her hips bucking as she slammed up and down upon the table.

Sighing, Sunita recalled how that had been the very first time she had ever had her pussy eaten. At first, she had been shocked when the cameVishalan unleashed his instructions, ordering her up on the table. The thought of having the naked male model tongue the dark triangle between her widely splayed legs had filled the big-busted Sunita with revulsion. That is, until she felt the first touch of his warmly wet tongue against her lewdly parted pussy. Sunita remembered too how she had gasped, how her bare tits had tightened into rosy peaks of excitement at the thrilling sensation, how she had split her legs as far as possible and moaned with pleasure at this new and marvelous physical sensation. Even the cameVishalan had teased her afterward, saying that she was either a tremendous actress or she had had the time of her life. After that, Sunita secretly yearned for that type of pose, and she surrendered herself completely to the ensuing lewd acts.

How many times had Sunita longed for the feel of Vishal's tongue between her open legs. So many times when Sunita had had to bite her lip to keep from crying out, from begging her husband to eat her throbbing, tongue-hungry pussy. For she felt certain that such a plea would shock and disgust Vishal, would shatter the false image he had created, the one of the sweet and innocent young wife.

The next morning, Sunita would wait until Jaya was either at nursery school or sleeping. Then she would close and lock her bedroom door so that she could lie naked on her bed, her legs split and her pussy lewdly parted while she fingered her palpitating, frustrated cunt. As she would work her fingers back and forth, the wet sounds of her saturated membranes filling the empty room, the lovely Sunita pretended that it was her husband's tongue making those delicious slurping sounds. She would let her masturbating fingers bring her naked body to a feverish pitch just short of actual orgasm. Then she would remove her hand from between her parted legs to let the peak of mounting excitement fade. Again and again, she would bring herself to a point close to orgasm before pulling her hand away. After teasing herself over and over, she finally would let her fingers punish her wet pussy until she reached fulfillment. "Mujhe chaat, meree chut chaat!" she'd scream as she climaxed, her hips jerking wildly as she bucked up and down in wild abandon.

Sunita's hot pussy was pounding hard now, and she felt a warm trickle dampen the crotch of her panties as she turned to another photo. A soft moan escaped her lips as she saw herself sitting naked on top of a good-looking man. Her eyes were half-closed and her mouth hung open, as he sent his huge prick far into the creamy recesses of her tunnel of love. Her naked partner had his hands on Sunita's pale moons, and the sexually aroused beauty recalled how the man had used her bare asscheeks to lift her high into the air before he pulled her down on his towering shaft, Vishalming his crimson prick into her sensitive cervix. Sunita could tell by the lustful expression on her face that the photo had been taken just as her skillful partner had slammed her body down on him. Her nipples now rose into twin points beneath her blouse as she relived the glorious carnal sensations his pistoning cudgel had created. Being fucked in the woman-astride position was one of Sunita's favorite poses, for her partner's prick always seemed so much bigger as it penetrated her slick canal.

She wished fervently that Vishal would fuck her this way. Her husband's enviable cock was the biggest she'd ever seen and Sunita often fantasized about having him enter her while she sat on top of him, her legs spread and her wet pussy parted. I'll bet Vishal's prick would drive me clean out of my mind if we did it this way, she speculated as she stared at the photograph she'd posed for years before. Instead, however, Sunita had learned to be content with the usual woman-on-bottom, man-on-top position in her marriage bed. When her secret needs grew overpowering, she would squat naked and panting on top of her whirring vibrator, while in the privacy of her empty bedroom she shoved the make-believe cock high into nether depths of her cuntal tunnel.

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