My Whore Sister In Law

It was a typical boys' night out, sitting at the bar complaining about our wives. My name is Jim; my two friends since high school are Jeff and Joe. The pool table was free, so they took it. I surveyed the bar; boy, was I glad I was married; there was a shortage of attractive women.

Not that my wife is unattractive; she just turned forty-three, but thanks to daily workouts, she is trim and solid, her thirty-four tits full and round. I wasn't unhappy, just bored. I was lucky to start a software company ten years ago. The time was right, so I sold it. At fifty years old, I was set for life.

I ordered another round and commented to the bartender about the lack of women. He agreed and said it goes in cycles, although he said to keep an eye on the table section. He said a stacked blonde had been coming in and leaving with one or two guys.

I said, "Maybe she was a hooker, he shook his head. "I doubt it. She's too good-looking. And she's not here every night, about once a week."

I settled down, nursing my drink. I saw the bartender trying to get my attention. He motioned to the table section. A beautiful blonde sat at a secluded table wearing a skintight dark grey dress. She was laughing while two college guys were feeling her up. As she playfully slapped their hands away, I moved to get a better look at her face. She didn't notice me as her head lolled back, her skirt almost up to her waist, exposing stockings and garter straps. I heard her laugh. I'd know that voice anywhere. It's good she hadn't seen me. I moved quickly out of her sight line. I couldn't believe my eyes, it was my sister-in-law, my much-married sister-in-law June.

I got out of there fast. I sat in my car trying to figure out what to do; her husband was a long-haul truck driver, gone sometimes for a week. They had no kids, so she could do as she wanted. Just then, the door opened. June staggered out with a guy on each arm; as one guy kissed her, the other pulled at her dress, partially exposing her tits.

He was able to get her nipples out and began sucking them. They pushed and pulled her into a van I recognized as hers, the same one we had gone camping with them last summer.

I slowly walked to the van; the curtains didn't close completely. I could hear her saying,

"Stop it. I'm married." Then, that same laugh; she obviously was enjoying herself. I carefully approached the back window and saw June being "Spit-roasted." The way she was wiggling her ass she was enjoying herself.

I didn't want to be caught, so I quickly walked away. I sat in my car, trying to decide what to do. I wasn't friends with her husband, Bob. But it wasn't right what she was doing.

My wife Cris and her sister June were as close as possible, about a year apart; they looked like twins, except for their tits. June was a solid d cup. Other than that, they were twins—naturally blond hair and long, shapely legs. With wide-set blue eyes and cock sucking lips, they were quite the package.

Nothing good was going to come of this. I wasn't crazy enough to get caught in the middle. I had to tell my wife, but the urge to blackmail June guided my decisions. This definitely could blow up in my face.

About twenty minutes later, the van door opened, and the two guys tumbled out, laughing and high-fiving each other. Minutes later, the van started up and quickly drove away. Luckily, June lived a few blocks away, so I followed the van there; she got out, hurrying into the house. The bedroom light flicked on while the rest of the house was black. It was obvious her husband was away.

I drove home, my mind racing. I walked into my house; my wife was waiting for me. She had been drinking and was pretty drunk.

We made small talk, and then I couldn't resist it.

"I think I saw June tonight."

"No, that's impossible. She has the flu. I invited her over, but she said she was too sick."

I let it go. This was too easy to fuck up.

I was drunk and horny from seeing June in action.

I pulled Chris over, tracing her lips with my finger.

"You need a dick in your mouth you know you like it."

"No, I don't feel like it, so stop it; I'm too drunk. Just let me go to bed. I don't feel good, and you're acting like a jerk."

She struggled as I held her still, taking advantage of her. In her drunken state, I could do what I wanted. I popped the buttons on her blouse, exposing her tits. She cried out for me to stop, and I took advantage of her open mouth I forced my cock in and proceeded to face fuck her. Between her gasping for air and begging me not to cum on her face. It was going to be a fun night. I basically was jerking off in her mouth. She gave up fighting me and gasped.

"Do whatever you want to me. Just don't be so rough; you're hurting my lips. I ignored her and pounded away."

She was moaning for me to stop. I almost felt sorry for her and figured it was time. I pulled out of her warm mouth and sprayed her face with red hot cum. She groaned, rolled over, cursing me. I patted her on the head and went up to bed.

I slept soundly; Cris must have slept the whole night on the couch.

I could hear her making breakfast; she knew her place.

I walked into the kitchen. She quickly approached me and kissed me on the cheek, looking at me with a frown.

"What did I do to deserve that crap last night? I woke up with my face stuck to the couch."

"You're a good wife, but you deserved it."

She took a fake swing with her hand.

"You're such a pig. You're never going to change."

As she turned, I gave her ass a good hard slap.

She squealed, shaking her finger at me.

We both had things to do, and I didn't see her until late afternoon, judging from her shopping bags and our online deliveries. She was on a buying spree to get back at me.

I settled on the patio, checking my email, when Cris came out with a beer in her hand and a shopping bag after showing me some dresses, shorts, and sandals. I saw another bag.

"What's in there?" I asked.

"Some undies."

"Let me see."

She pulled out the same tired white underwear.

I frowned; "I am tired of seeing you in old lady underwear. You've got time before dinner. I want you to go back and get something sexy, definitely stockings and a garter belt. And anything else they have. Now get going."

She was embarrassed having to go back but knew better than to argue.

I had a lot to think about. I couldn't wait to fuck her sister, but I also couldn't rush it.

They arrived promptly at six. We all got drinks and went to the patio. I don't like Bob; he's a sports nut, and we have very little in common, but I persevered. After dinner, I thought I'd get things rolling. I casually mentioned the bar I was at last night and said they had decent food and we all should go there some night.

She almost looked like a cartoon character. June lost all her color. She had to know that I had seen her. She headed to the kitchen for a drink. I wanted one, too, and followed her. Once in the kitchen, she was a combination of rage and fear. Glaring at me, she hissed. "You know they don't have food there. What the fuck are you doing? I was there with my girlfriends."

"I looked into the van when you entertained your friends and got some pictures."

I hadn't, but she didn't have to know.

"I think the right thing to do is tell Bob."

"You're fucking crazy it would kill him and Cris and end my marriage. And that's not going to happen. "I'm not stupid. You want something, so what is it?"

I gave her a smile and slapped her tits.

"Eventually, my friends and I will fuck you till you can't walk straight. That was pretty lame stuff you were doing last night. You really need to get gangbanged. But for now, pull your top up, and let me see those boobs."

She looked over her shoulder to check if our spouses were still talking. With trembling hands, June gripped the bottom of her sweater and slowly pulled it up above her tits. They were breathtaking, round, and firm, her white lace bra fighting to keep those boobs under control. The look of distaste on her face was worth the risk. I pinched both nipples; she moaned softly but didn't tell me to stop. She rolled her head back, putting her hand on my chest, keeping me away.

My wife called out just then, wanting to know what we were doing.

"We are talking about you, honey," I called out as I slapped June's tits. I knew then I could get away with anything. She didn't talk with me the rest of the night. In fact, she barely looked at me. It was going to be difficult to get in touch with her, and she wasn't going to make it easy, that's for sure.

But things have a way of working out.

Bob would leave Wednesday for a week, so I started plotting.

They finally left at eleven. I was feeling no pain and was ready for some serious fucking. I was lying on the bed with Cris in the bathroom.

"What's taking so long," I shouted."

Just then, the door opened, and she walked in. She had on a black corset that did little to cover her thirty-four c tits. Couple that with sheer black nylons and high heels, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. The finishing touch was black eye shadow and large hoop earrings.

"Do you like it?"

That's like asking if I like to breathe. She walked carefully up to the bed and said.

"I'm yours. Treat me like a whore you seem to like that."

I roughly seized her ponytail and forced her to her knees. I pulled her head back and smacked her perfect face with my dripping cock. She opened her mouth, engulfing my dick. I was mercilessly fucking her face. She was gagging and gasping for air. I finally pulled my dick out and told her to get in bed, slapping her ass and making her yelp with pain.

"That's enough. I'm not enjoying this. You're starting to hurt me," she squealed.

I freed her tits from her corset, kissing and biting her tender nipples. I pushed her back and buried my face in her hairless mound. She gasped and held my head with her hands. My tongue found and tortured her swollen clit. She tensed up, telling me not to stop, orgasmed wildly, holding my head tightly with her nylon-covered legs. She finally released me.

I spread her legs, my dick searching for her drenched cunt. I entered her in one motion, causing her to groan and tell me to slow down. Hooking her legs over my shoulders, I relentlessly pounded her cunt. I had drunk too much, but finally, I was close; I pulled out, straddling her chest and pushing her tits together. I spit on her cleavage and began fucking her boobs.

"Don't get it on my face. Can't you just cum in me, PLEASE."

"You're like most women; you want to be treated like a whore, so here it is, as I erupted, splashing her tits and face between her eyes. I shot a pretty good load, my cum running down her face, even getting in her ears and hair. She once told me that she didn't like "facials." It was demeaning, so I wasn't surprised when she lashed out.

"You're such a pig; I'm sure other husbands don't treat their wives like this."

"I wouldn't bet on that, but in your case, it keeps you in line. Plus, it looks good on you."

She looked at me.

"You are a pig; I don't know why you like making me feel like trash."

I grabbed her hands and made her scoop up my cum and lick it off her fingers. She looked like she was going to throw up but finally passed out, her face a sticky mess. I rolled her over and lay beside her, plotting how to humiliate her sister.

We slept late the next morning with mild hangovers. I rolled over and looked at Chris, still in her corset and stockings. My dick started to stir. I walked: to her side of the bed and rubbed my recovering dick over her lips; she moaned a little as her pink tongue darted out, licking a drop of pre-cum. I eased my now hard dick into her hot mouth. She frowned then, sighing.

"What's gotten into you? If it's my stockings, I'll wear them every day."

"That's not a bad idea. But for now, get on your knees."

She rolled out of bed and fell to her knees.

I looked down at her wide mouth and full lips wrapped around my cock.

"You've got dried cum on your face. Do you want some fresh?"

She grimaced and, looking up at me, said.

"Do what you want; you will anyway. I don't like it, and you know it. I guess it makes you feel like a man."

I didn't argue; she ran her lips up and down my shaft, licking and moaning. I was getting close.

"I'm going to make you my cum slut."

I buried my cock in her mouth, making her gag and sputter. After a few minutes, I told her, "Here it comes."

I barely got that out when my cock exploded, covering her delicate face. I made sure to get both eyes; she fought the urge to wipe her face; she knew the rules. She kept sucking after I was done.

She looked up at me for approval. I patted her head and said, "Good girl, now go clean up." She wiped my cum from her eyes and headed for her shower. I flopped on the bed, satisfied.

Chris and June went shopping, leaving me to decide how to do this. I had already fucked up not telling Chris. Too much time had passed. She would wonder why I didn't tell her that night.

True to form, Bob left Wednesday, and Chris invited June for dinner so she wouldn't have to eat alone.

In the middle of dinner, their mother called. June waved off, not wanting to talk with her. And Chris went into the family room to talk.

I looked over at June; she glared back. I said quietly, "I think we have a date Friday night, don't we?"

"I didn't think you were serious. How will you get out? and where are we going?"

"That's too many questions. I'll be back in a minute."

I wanted to see what I could get away with; I went to the kitchen, picked up a fat carrot, and returned to the dining room.

"Let's see how you do with your audition. Give my friend a blowjob."

I handed her the carrot and told her to deep-throat it. June glanced at the doorway. She could hear Chris talking with their mother. She looked at me with pleading eyes and slowly licked the carrot up and down while whimpering. Then, looking cross-eyed at it, she forced it down her throat. Her eyes were watering as she gagged. We heard Chris finish her conversation and asked if we wanted anything else to eat. I replied.

"June was munching on a carrot."

Chris laughed.

"Don't go vegetarian on me; you'll still need meat."

I smiled and winked at June. She couldn't look me in the eye.

I had made a terrible mistake not telling Chris about her sister screwing those two guys; I hoped it didn't come back to haunt me.

Friday night came. I told Chris I was going to Jim's house to try a new video game. I didn't know what June had said to Chris, and I certainly couldn't ask her.

Chris was a good wife; she had made a bowl of dip for me and kissed me goodbye, telling me to have fun. For the first few moments, I felt guilty then my dick talked me out of it.

I called June and told her to meet me at that same motel. She asked how many guys were coming. I told her it was a surprise. I got there first and waited for her. When I saw her van in the parking lot. I opened the door and waved. She saw me and quickly parked. She had denim shorts and cowboy boots on, not what I was expecting. And to top it off, a sweatshirt.

"You're alone. I thought it was going to be a couple of guys?"

I was disappointed with how she was dressed.

"What's with the clothes? Are you going to a rodeo?"

"If I'm going to do something that could end in divorce. I want my whore to at least look the part." Her cheeks turned red.

"Don't talk to me like that. I don't like it."

"Get used to it."

I said, quickly crossing the room.

"The next time, I want you in stockings, a dress, and heels."

June narrowed her eyes.

"You think there's going to be more; this is it. Enjoy this tonight because there won't be anymore."

I may have forgotten to tell you about the video I took of your "Date" last week.

I lied; there was no video. She was crestfallen. She had figured this was a one-time thing.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Strip, then I'll decide which hole I want.

She slowly took off her shorts; things were looking up. She had a black thong barely covering her bald pussy. The best part was that she struggled with her sweatshirt, but it was worth the wait when it came off. Her black lace bra was fighting to control her boobs, threatening to overflow her skimpy bra.

She stood before me in her underwear, covering her cunt with both hands. She looked like Chris so much I don't think I could let other guys fuck her.

June was shaking; she obviously didn't want me to touch her.

"May I have something to drink? I really need one."

I had a small bottle of whiskey, which she took without hesitation. After two long pulls on the bottle, she said.

"Do what you want.

This was great; I was starting to feel guilty. What the fuck is wrong with me. she fell to her knees, looking up at me, she whispered.

"Do you want a blow job? You can cum in my mouth, and I can swallow, or you can use my face. I'll do anything. I don't care anymore. My life is fucked up."

My dick was making all the decisions. I rubbed my cock on her lips, and her mouth sagged open. She made a moaning sound and attacked my dick with her tongue. I held the sides of her head and slid my hard-on in till she gagged. She was slobbering over my cock taking it out and smearing it over her face. She was a mess of pre-cum and spit. She held my dick out of her mouth and whimpered.

"I'm so ashamed of myself."

I couldn't hold back anymore; I shot the first stream down her throat and the rest on her forehead, watching it run down her face onto her tits.

I had to be nuts. I was risking my marriage to fuck my sister-in-law, who looked like my wife's twin.

She slumped to the floor and sighed.

"Are you done with me? I want to go home."

I couldn't look her in the eye,

"Are you ok to drive, June?"

"I'll be alright; just go and leave me alone."

Chris was asleep when I got home. I was glad. I couldn't have fucked her after what just happened. The next morning I vowed not to fuck around with June anymore. By afternoon, I pictured her serving myself and my friends in a French maid uniform.

The main problem was getting out at night at the same time as June. Then, the solution presented itself. June signed up for a series of lectures on Nineteenth-Century Art. She didn't know it yet but would miss one or two lectures.

Two weeks later, she was at our house having coffee with Chris. I got her alone and told her to plan on skipping Friday's class. I didn't ask her; it was a command. She blushed crimson. Her head hung down. She was afraid to look at me.

"I'll pick you up at night school, and here's a list of what I want you to wear."

"Will it just be you?" she asked.

I grinned. "All I can say is it won't be more than three."

"Please don't do this to me."

"You did this to yourself, and now you'll have to pay."

Friday finally came. After dinner, I told Chris I was going out with the guys and wouldn't be late. She's a trusting wife, telling me to be careful and kissing me goodbye. Which made me feel like the bastard that I was.

June was right where she was supposed to be. I opened the door, and she jumped in, not wanting to be seen.

I could smell whiskey on her breath, but she seemed sober enough.

"Where are we going?"

"My friend's house. Did you bring what I told you?"

"Yes," she whispered, "I'm going to feel like a tramp."

"Then you better act like one, or there will be trouble."

We rode in silence. As I pulled up to Jeff's house, I noticed two cars beside his; this would be fun.

I opened her door, and I noticed she was trembling. I took her bag of clothes, and we walked toward the front door.

Jeff greeted us, looking over June.

"You weren't lying. She's hot. Just look at those tits."