Roofie Coladas Ch. 02

II: The Refill

(I make references to the first story, which I suggest you read just so you can get proper background on what happened)

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You know how there's not supposed to be such a thing as the perfect crime? In all the stories they tell you as a kid, the bad guy always gets what's coming to him/her, right? Shit that goes around comes around and fucks you up. Well, I'm here to tell you that I think I got away with some pretty terrible shit.

"Hi, my name's... not important, but what -is- important is that I'm a rapist."

This is the part where you, as my support group, stand up and say: "Hi, fuckface."

Let me tell you what's going on.

About six months ago, I put the final nail in a coffin I'd been dying to bury for more than half a decade. I 'nailed' my wife's sister, Sarah.

The thing is... She doesn't actually know I nailed her.

She knows she got fucked, for sure. Hell, she's fucking pregnant, but she thinks her poor, dopey and tragically innocent soon-to-be-ex-husband Brad is the father.

I didn't mean to knock her up, although I did cum inside of her enough times to glaze a couple of dozens of Dunkin' Donut's best. I just figured she'd be on the pill.

Ok, Ok, I didn't figure anything. While my cock was buried balls deep in her awesome pussy and I emptied myself inside her over and over I gave fuck-all about any possible consequences. I was living the dream. I was having my way with that fucking cock-tease and what's more, I got the whole thing on tape.

Now Sarah's pregnant with my child. How do I know it's mine? You ask. Well, because I know that she hasn't fucked poor Brad since I raped her.

That night, six months ago, when I cooked up a special batch of my patented Roofie Coladas and knocked Sarah, Brad and my wife out by their pool, I did a little bit more than fuck her unconscious pussy. I had my way with her ass as well.

I lubed it up and slid my average-sized cock into its puckered embrace over and over, and I came a lot in there as well. I fucked her face silly too, and coated her throat with my seed. But the ass thing is what really got Brad in trouble.

I can still remember listening by the door with my wife as Sarah tore her husband a new one, screaming, crying, demanding that he explain how he dared to fuck her up the wazoo when he knew she'd never done that before. She'd been hurting a lot. I pounded the hell out of her tiny asshole.

Hey, first-time rapists can have feelings too, OK? I admit that while I was still high on the adrenaline and the rush of it all, I was pretty damn proud of what I'd accomplished. Then the shit started to hit the area all around the fan, coming ever so close to actually splattering me and sending my entire world down the crapper.

Sarah and Brad separated a week after that last pool party at their house. She moved in with me and my wife and our two kids. She told us, crying, that she couldn't trust him anymore. That she thought he'd taken advantage of her and that what he'd done was unforgivable, too much to overcome.

And she didn't even know she was pregnant then.

I played the part of the understanding brother-in-law, of course. While I was sweating bullets and obsessing about how I might be found out, I also played the part of re-conciliator, reaching out to Brad, seeing how he was doing, talking with Sarah long into the night, to make sure she was OK.

Of course, I was just covering my ass. Even though I was pretty sure that she'd never remember that it had been me that ravaged her entire body for hours that night, I constantly checked to be certain, to stay ahead of any suspicion.

My Roofie Coladas were damn strong, and my wife still didn't remember the time I'd tried them on her, and fucked her face and pussy in the pre-rape tests months before I did Sarah. I hoped that wouldn't change. So I played all sides, almost went crazy trying to keep up with everything that was going on while appearing casual.

A month into her stay with us, Sarah barged into our bedroom one night, crying, not even noticing that my wife's head was bobbing up and down on my lap as her lips circled around my cock. I had my hand on the top of her head as she was trying to deep throat me.

I say trying not because I have a huge dick, but because my wife has a super strong gag reflex, one of the reasons I tried the drugs on her first, so I could finally shove my cock all the way down her throat.

In any case, there we were, lying on the bed, my wife's hands gripping the sheets as she pushed her face against my hard shaft, my hand tangled in her hair, pushing her down. She'd been making awesome gagging, choking noises as the head of my dick pressed against the back of her throat, and she'd been setting a new record for herself as a cocksucker, holding on much longer than she'd been able to before. There was slobber coating my balls and thighs. She'd been at it for a while.

The feeling of her lips wrapped around my shaft and the warm wetness of her tongue swirling around it as she moved it further into her throat in tiny increments had been too much, and I was ready to spew my load.

That was the precise moment when Sarah barged in, her eyes and hair a complete mess as she stood there in a nightgown, crying. My wife pulled her head up immediately, my dick flopping and waving around wetly as she turned towards the door, a long thread of thick drool stretching between the head of my cock and dribbling out of her lips, but the sight of Sarah's bare legs, showing up to her mid-thighs in the short nightdress, her small but perky tits pushing through the thin clothing that clung to her figure in all the right places... it was too much.

It all came back to me, Sarah's legs high up in the air as I drilled into her, her amazingly tight pussy squeezing every drop from me. In that moment I was transported back to that night, and compounded with the awesome head my wife had been giving me, I came.

I shot a long burst straight up into my wife's half-turned head. It hit her square in the eye like a sniper bullet, and the following jets splashed across her cheek and chin.

I saw all of this out of the corner of my eye, since my eyes were locked on Sarah. Thankfully, her eyes didn't meet mine, as she might have seen the lust in them. She was staring right at my cock as it spurted another glob of cum onto her sister's face.

"Oh shit!" I heard both sisters say almost simultaneously.

In the following seconds Sarah turned and ran from the room, just as my wife pulled the sheets and wiped her face free of cum. I lay there exhausted, confused, as if I'd just run a marathon with no warning. Oh, and the whole situation was so arousing that my cock was still hard.

"Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod!" My wife was mumbling.

I remembered I shouldn't be so casual about this sort of thing. Sure, my cock had been inside Sarah's mouth, pussy and asshole, but she'd never actually -seen- it before.

I pulled the sheet over myself and put on a concerned face.

"Wow, that was embarrassing! You think she saw everything?" I said.

My wife had a mortified look on her face."Oh my god! I don't know how much she saw. Oh my god! didn't you lock the door?"

I shook my head at her. "Honey, the kids know that they have to knock before entering, they've each known that since they were five. I haven't locked the door in years."

She'd calmed down some, and thankfully, the ridiculousness of the situation was dawning on her. "Jeez, I think she saw everything!" She met my eyes and shook her head.

I couldn't help it. It was pretty funny, if you ask me. And by god, my wife thought it was funny too, after a while. One of the reasons I loved her so fiercely was because of her sense of humor, which is as dark as mine.

I stifled a laugh, my wife was shocked at first but then the corners of her mouth turned up a bit as she thought about it. She covered her mouth.

"I can't believe Sarah saw me sucking your cock."

That very phrase coming out of my wife's mouth, containing her sister's name and a reference to my cock in the same breath, sent a shiver up my spine, my dick wasn't going to soften any time soon.

"Well she should know better than to barge into a room."

My wife giggled. "If we did that too we might have caught her getting butt-fucked by Brad." she whispered as she glanced at the door.

Again. My cock was so fucking hard. The memories were right there.

"I'd better go talk to her." My wife said as she ducked into the bathroom, washed her face quickly and tightened her robe around her. "Make sure she's OK."

I nodded. "Yeah, and ask her why she was crying."

My wife paused at the door. "She was crying?"

Shit.

It's shit like this that gets people caught, fuckbrain. I noticed she was crying because my attention was completely on her the moment she came in. Damn it!

I played it cool. "I think so. I could be wrong." I shrugged.

My wife's eyebrows squished a bit, but she said nothing. She left and I thought about what a fucking idiot I was, running my mouth. I got up, my flagpole swaying in the cool air-conditioned air, and went to wash up. I slipped on a pair of boxers and a t-shirt and sneaked down the hall.

The hallway was dark, but I could see light coming from the door to the guestroom and I tiptoed towards it, it was barely open, but enough for me to put my ear against the opening.

"I'm so sorry." Sarah was saying. "It's just that... " she was crying.

"It's OK, honey, don't worry about it. We're family, these things happen. Hey, at least you caught him with me and not some floozy assistant." My wife was comforting her.

Shit. I don't want to get ahead of myself, the whole assistant thing... that's for later, suffice to say that I'm making a living as a writer, a pretty damn good living, now, and I recently found the need to hire an assistant to help me deal with notes and paperwork. Even though my wife trusts me, she's not too fond of the idea. Most of the applicants are girls. Some are cute. But enough of that for now.

Sarah laughed through the tears. "Oh don't be silly, he'd never cheat on you!" a few sniffles, then a giggle. "Especially since you..." she lowered her voice. "Since you suck his cock like that! Oh my god how do you do that?"

My dick could have smashed the door down if I'd let it. Hearing Sarah talk about my dick. Fucking awesome. I resisted the temptation to stroke myself. I had the excuse of checking up on them if they caught me outside the door, but not if I was jerking off.

My lovely wife was bragging. I knew she was still embarrassed, but our sex-life had taken a marvelous turn these past few months as I planned and carried out her sister's rape.

"Well, you know I couldn't do that until recently. It's been really hard..." they both giggled like girls.

FUCK. I could have wanked off right there, picturing them both in their nightclothes. But unfortunately this isn't one of those stories, there's no realistic chance of me having a threesome with the sisters in any scenario. Sorry. Moving on.

"I'll bet! I could never do that with Brad.. he... he.. " I heard Sarah choke up again.

"What's wrong sis? Are you sad because of Brad? Do you want to get back together with him?"

The sobbing stopped, and Sarah's voice was angry.

"No! That fucking asshole! Can you believe he actually ... he put his fucking dick in my ass. I bled for a week, I couldn't sit down comfortably for days."

"You told me, but remember, those drinks were pretty strong. We all blacked out. The same thing happened to us a few months back,actually. we made some drinks and got wasted. We made love but neither of us remembers anything."

"Yeah but did he fuck you in the ass while you were unconscious?" Sarah was livid.

My wife had no answer to that.

"I just don't trust him anymore. I don't feel safe around him. And that's not even the worst part..." She began to cry again.

"What is it?"

Yeah, damn it! what the fuck is it? I wanted to know as well by now.

Sarah's voice cracked as she bawled. "I'm pregnant."

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So now, five months later, I'm sitting here in my boxer shorts, jerking off as I watch the video of when I raped Sarah for what must be the millionth time. I'm up to the part where I fuck her face. I really dig that part.

My obsession with her is very much under control by now. I can spend days, weeks without thinking about her as I fuck my wife. I only unzip the hidden, password-protected files in my computer a couple of times a month, get myself off, and I'm good.

Especially now that she's pregnant. I hate to sound callous, but the pregnancy thing really puts me off. The boob growth is great, but I can't get over the idea that I'd be poking my child in the face with my dick, even though it's physically impossible. For me anyway. My fantasies were getting messed up.

And I did feel remorse. I had ruined her marriage. She thought she was carrying the baby of a man she no longer trusted, a man who was desperately trying to reconcile with her. That ate me up inside too. Luckily, the thought that the kid might not be Brad's never crossed their minds, so I was pretty sure that they wouldn't do a paternity test. Still, I felt fucking guilty.

I took Brad out a couple of times for beers, mostly to get a feel for what he was thinking, to see if he suspected anything, but also because the guilt made me check up on him. He wasn't doing so great. Sarah had asked him for a divorce, and had told him that he would have no place in the baby's life. If it wasn't bad enough losing your wife for something you didn't do, I could only imagine what it felt like to be cut out of your baby's life.

And I have accepted the fact that it's actually my baby. Not out loud, of course, but I want to take care of my child. I love my two kids, and I realized that bringing another one into the world was kind of awesome. It balanced the guilt, in a weird, fucked-up way. I had knocked up my wife's sister, but I was going to do right by her, and my baby, even if it was as an uncle.

So I suggested to my wife that Sarah stay with us until she had the baby. Even though she'd probably get the house in the divorce, I placed the thought in both of their heads through innocent comments. Also, I manipulated my kids into telling her and their mother how excited they were to have their aunt at home, and about the baby coming.

In the end, my current home situation is the following: I've got my wife, two kids, and my pregnant sister-in-law whom I secretly raped and knocked up living with me.

I'm a fucking saint, in their eyes, and Sarah continuously thanks me for the love, support and attention we've given her. The bitchiness about her that I loathed and that made me hate her in a way was gone. Now she is a vulnerable, emotional woman who is carrying my child. I'm not saying I love her, but I certainly want her to be alright.

So as I close the videos of my dick filling up my sister-in-law's mouth and grab the kleenex and hand sanitizer, I'm reflecting on all of this, and I'm pretty sure I've gotten away with it.

Where's your justice now?

I'll tell you where. She's bent over with her robes hiked up around her waist and is getting fucked from behind. The cloth around her eyes is down, tied around her mouth like a gag and with horror-filled eyes she can see herself reflected in the shining scales dropped on the floor as she's violated.

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It's now getting close to Sarah's due date. She's a single mom now, but she's got the full support of her family, including her rapist.

Speaking about her rapist, he's doing pretty well as a writer, so maybe now I'll tell you about the further adventures of Rapey McGuire.

In the years since I began writing, I developed a small but loyal fan base. My sci-fi books are heavily laced with erotic overtones that appeal to a distinct cadre of readers, and I'm also starting to branch out into more popular mystery thrillers.

A month before I raped Sarah, my publicist had recommended that I hire an assistant to help me juggle the different projects. I'd never had an employee like this and after I discussed it with my wife we agreed that the responsibilities wouldn't be limited to just my work, he or she would also handle most of our day-to-day agendas (my wife has a pretty intense job as a tech consultant) giving us more time to spend as a family.

So during the interview process we waded through resumes and interviews until we got to Amber. Yeah, I know. Total stripper name, right? Well it was her junior year at her community college and she needed a part-time job. She seemed smart, respectful and serious enough that we agreed that we'd give her a trial run.

The problem was -were- Amber's tits.

She had spectacular tits. Her face was OK, kind of pretty but not that much, had a shapely buxom body, but her tits... Damn. I'm not even that much of a tit man, but the girl was always in tight sweaters and tops that, while she didn't display a lot of cleavage, were tight enough that her two ballistic missiles called attention to themselves.

Now, my wife knows me better than anyone in the world, my stint as her sister's rapist aside, and she knew the minute Amber walked in that her boobs caught my attention. She shook her head ruefully at me when she caught me looking during the interview and showed me a clenched fist. I laughed and ogled her own tits and wrote "I wanna fuck you later" on the legal pad I had on my lap and showed it to her, but she knew that I'd noticed the huge bazoombas.

Her saving grace -according to my wife- was that she hadn't read any of my books. She wasn't a groupie, like the first 10 boys and girls we'd interviewed or an aspiring writer, like the other 10 boys and girls who'd only pepper me with questions all day. We'd been looking for about two weeks and were pretty tired of the whole thing, so I think that got her the job on my wife's side, and her tits got her the job on my side. After we told her she'd been hired, she hugged us both, thanked us and said goodbye until the following week, when she'd start. I admit her padded front gave me a tightness in the pants.

"Don't you get any ideas, mister!" My wife had said as soon as the door closed behind her.

"Please" I said, with a mocking face. "You're way hotter, no matter if her brains all went to her chest."

This made my wife laugh, and it seemed to placate her. "I am hotter, aren't I?"

If you don't know, my wife has her sister's same dark raven hair, long to the middle of her back. Her face is awesome, with big green eyes and a kind of dusky skin tone that makes her look exotic. Indeed, those similar looks are what also attracted me to her sister. Her lips are plump and made for kissing, and her body is blessed with a great metabolism that helped her shed the pounds that 2 kids gave her, giving her a twenty-year-old's body, even though she's thirty. She's got crazy long legs and her tits are smallish but nice handfuls topped with pink rosebuds.

Looking back, the only reason I became obsessed with her sister is the taboo factor. I used to think that Sarah was hotter than my wife, but after I exorcised those demons my eyes were opened to the truth that I'm a fucking lucky guy. My wife is fucking hot. Out of my league hot, but thankfully she's madly in love with me. A feeling I reciprocate 100%, regardless of the fact I raped her sister.

As a response to her question I pushed her against the door, hard. She yelped in surprise but I held her there, pinned, and I covered her mouth with one hand as my other hand began to grope inside her jeans.

"You're mine. The only one I want." I told her as my fingers slid under her panties and began to fondle the soft folds of her pussy. She moaned against my hand as I pushed past her lower lips and up into her warm tunnel. My hand was quickly drenched in her juices as I thumbed her clit.