Sister Hot, Wife Not

"You'll just have to make an excuse then, won't you?"

"Like what?"

"Oh I dunno. Tell her an important client has jetted in and you have to take him out at short notice. She'll buy that, won't she?"

"Hmm, maybe."

"Yeah, she will. And I'll say I'm going on a date with one of those hot guys I was telling you about. And it'll be kind of true. Because I WILL be going on a hot date, sugar, won't I? With you."

"What, so you and I go out together and Jan gets to spend the whole of Friday evening home alone? That what you mean?"

"Sure there'll be a good movie on TV," chuckled Jess. "And Mrs Taylor can cook us fish stew at the weekend or something."

"You're all heart, Jessica."

"Yeah, I know. So, what do you think, honey? Should we do that?"

"Jan will be hurt. She'll pretend not to be, but she will."

"Too bad, sweetie. Because I'll be hurt if we don't."

"Ok, Jess."

She laughed. "Now that's what I like to hear. Although 'Jess darling' would have been even better." She went quiet until I said it. "Ok, Jess, darling."

"Great! It'll be worth it, honey, I promise. Oh and one more thing while we're talking about this little plan of ours."

"Ours? Yours, you mean. Anyway, what? What one more thing?"

"Let's make out to wifey, when we're breaking it to her, that this guy I'm meeting can't drop me home for some reason ... he likes to drink, say, so no car when he's out ... and rather than have to rely on the train or a cab late at night it's a great idea if you come collect me at the restaurant or club, or wherever, and give me a ride home. That's after you've dealt with your pesky client, of course. That way we don't have to mess around pretending to come back separately."

"Ok."

Fiendish, Jessica, wasn't she?

And what about me? What was I?

5.

It worked a dream. That evening I told Jan about the 'client' and of course she believed me. "Never mind, darling, can't be helped. Me and Jessica can have a girl's night in together. Be fun, right, Jess?" Jessica smiled and nodded. We'd decided it might be a bit suspicious (even to a trusting person like my wife) if we both came out with our alternative Friday nights at the same time. Apart from that, an uneventful evening. Dinner in front of the TV (Jess and Jan on the sofa, me in my favourite chair) then a fairly early night for all of us. No messing around from Jessica. A relief but also, I'll admit it, a disappointment. It was impossible to keep my eyes off her. I was addicted.

Next night, Thursday, we were sitting around and she broke the news to Jan about her plans. Said this guy (James, she called him) had rung her up and virtually begged for a date, had promised to take her somewhere really good. "You don't mind, sis, do you?"

"Course not!" Janet assured her, rather too enthusiastically. I could tell she was slightly put out. I felt a twinge but that didn't stop me playing along with Jess's cock and bull story about how it might be a good idea (this 'James' being without transport) for me to collect and bring her home. "Sure, Jessica, I'm happy to do that. I can take the car to work instead of the train." My wife gave her approval ("Don't want my little sister stranded in town!") then went upstairs to do a couple of things. Jessica immediately came and sat in my lap and draped herself around me. She was flushed with the success of her plan, how easy it'd been deceiving poor Jan. "Doesn't have a clue, does she?" she giggled in my ear. Her high spirits were infectious and I found myself grinning like an idiot. "Kiss me, darling," Jess whispered. I did. I kissed her long and hard. I slipped a hand inside her top so I could fondle her big beautiful breasts. "Yeah, Marky, feel my tits," Jess purred. "Oh yeah, baby, that feels so good!" We were like a pair of horny teenagers.

Was I bothered that my poor, unsuspecting wife was just upstairs? I'd like to say I was but the truth was rather the opposite -- carrying on with her sexy sister, right under her nose, was turning out to be quite thrilling. Ok so Jessica was the prime mover, she'd led me here, but I'd become a willing accomplice. We were partners-in-crime. Crime? Well, not technically, but with how heartless we were being towards Janet (and this was only the start, it got a lot worse in coming days), I'd say the cap fits. I see that now.

When my wife came down, we made a point of telling her how shitty we feel about abandoning her to a Friday night alone. "You'll be alright, darling, will you?" I asked. "Yes, Mark, of course I will!" she snapped. It was obvious she didn't want to dwell on the subject. Rather than let it drop, Jessica needled her sister by going on about it. "Poor thing. All on your own on a Friday night," she said, patronisingly, oozing concern. "You sure I shouldn't blow James out? I can always see him some other time, Jan, you know." Poor Janet had to tell us about a million times that she was fine with it. Yes, she'd dial something in. Yes, she'd maybe watch a movie. No, she wouldn't think she had to wait up for us. She ended up quite frazzled and announced grumpily that she was going to bed (it wasn't even ten o'clock). "Ok, Hun," I said. "Yeah, night, sis," said Jess. Janet didn't reply. Just stomped off.

Couple of minutes later, me and Jess are cosied up on the sofa, smooching and watching TV, laughing about Janet. "Thank christ she's gone," I said. I'm nuzzling at Jess's neck, nibbling her ears, stuff like that. "Mrs Taylor seemed quite upset about something, didn't she?" said Jess, evil grin on her face. "Good job the poor thing doesn't know I'm planning to screw her husband!"

"No, baby, I suspect that wouldn't help her mood one iota," I dead-panned, my hand snaking up her sexy short skirt. I've been surreptitiously ogling her luscious legs all evening. Jessica, needless to say, knows how great she looks in a short skirt and, pleasantly conscious of my attentions, she's been teasing me, on and off, with a bit of a show (you know: crossing and uncrossing her legs, letting her skirt ride up, idly scratching an imaginary itch way up her thigh etc) while the three of us were sat around talking earlier. I love what Jessica has just said about us screwing. We haven't fucked yet but it's clear the horny bitch wants it as much as I do. Take her out tomorrow and then up up and away!

We carry on canoodling for a while before retiring upstairs. We can detect the faint sounds of snoring coming from mine and Jan's room and we have a sexy goodnight kiss, right outside my wife's door. I have a massive erection and Jessica gently squeezes it as she kisses me. "Save this for me, baby," she purrs. I'm squirming with desire for her. Any guilt I'd felt in the beginning of this has utterly gone. I want Jessica - I'm going to HAVE Jessica -- and I don't care about anything else. Jess pulls away finally. "See you tomorrow, sweetheart," she whispers. I stand and watch her walk the few yards down the hall to her room. She knows I'm watching and she exaggerates the hip-wiggle for my benefit, blows me a kiss as she goes inside.

6.

The next morning (as we're lying in bed) Janet apologises for what she calls her "anti-social behaviour" of the night before. The irony of HER apologising isn't lost on me but, rather than feel bad for her, I find it deliciously amusing. I tell her it's ok, I understand, but maybe she ought to say sorry to Jess too. She promises she will.

She wants to make love ("C'mon, Hun, it's been ages.") but I tell her I'm not in the mood. She shrugs and gets up, discards her nightdress, walks to the bathroom. I watch her closely and I try to come up with a single aspect of her body which doesn't compare unfavourably with her sister's. I fail. When she returns from her shower I continue on the subject of her reprehensible sulkiness. "So unlike you, Janet. Poor Jess thinks it's all her fault. She was quite upset after you stalked off, you know."

"Oh no," said Janet, frowning.

"Yeah. She was talking about perhaps it'd be better if she moved into a hotel or something while she looks for a place. Perhaps she's right."

Janet looked mortified. "No way! She's my sister. Oh Mark, such a moody cow I was, wasn't I? I must talk to her. I'll do it today, definitely."

"Why don't you do it now, Hun?"

"Now? She'll still be asleep."

"And I bet she'd really appreciate it if her big sister brought her breakfast in bed."

Janet brightened at my suggestion. "You know what, I think that's a very nice idea!"

"Well you know me, darling, full of bright ideas."

Janet looked at me fondly. "I do appreciate this, you know."

"What?"

"You being so good about having my sister stay here. I appreciate it."

"No problem, Hun. I like Jess. She's fun to have around. I'll probably miss her when she's gone."

"You're such a sweetheart," smiled Jan. "Right, this breakfast. Guess I should make it five star, uh?"

"Sure, Hun, but don't go overboard. Scrambled eggs, toast, orange juice, coffee, that ought to do the trick. Hey, and don't forget your apology. Nice big 'sorry sis' when you take it in to her, right?"

She nodded, looked at her watch. "I'd better get a move on! Scrambled eggs take a while to fix." She dressed quickly and hurried off to get cracking in the kitchen, leaving me to get up and shower in my own good time, inwardly corpsing at the thought of Janet about to go grovelling to Jessica, taking her breakfast in bed. I was sure Jessica would find it hilarious too. When I got downstairs I found Janet flapping a bit -- we needed to leave for work in less than ten minutes but the eggs weren't yet done. I told her to calm down, otherwise she'd ruin Jess's breakfast. Scrambled eggs had to be perfect, I said, or else they're not worth doing. "I know, darling, sorry. It's just, you know, look at the time! ... Oh what the hell, suppose I can be late for work for a change."

"Good call, Hun." I gulped down my coffee. "Look, babe, I gotta get going. See you later, yeah? Shouldn't be that late. Pain in the neck these big shot clients sometimes."

Janet smiled. "Don't worry, darling. You just make sure you collect my little sister on time and bring her home safe and sound, ok?"

"For sure," I grinned. I gave her a peck on the cheek (ignoring the puckered lips) and left her to it.

7.

The prospect of my date with Jessica (we'd made the arrangements: I was to work a little later than usual then meet up with her at this trendy bar I knew in the centre of town) caused time at the office to hang heavy. Eventually, however, it was 7:30 and I was sat there waiting for her, sipping a beer, at a table in the corner.

Jessica was twenty minutes late. This didn't surprise me (she was that sort of woman, the sort to keep a man waiting) and in any case all I could think of when she walked in was how ravishingly beautiful she looked. You think I'm exaggerating? Think again. She had her hair up but with a couple of tresses falling either side, framing her lovely face, and she had on a little black number, a cocktail dress I guess you'd call it, quite short (maybe six inches above the knee) and with a 'sheath' design which meant that it clung to every curve of her luscious body. She was wearing it with sheer tights and heels, the whole look displaying her long, shapely legs to perfection. At the top, the dress revealed enough cleavage so that nobody in eye-shot could fail to know she had fabulous tits, but it wasn't so low cut as to appear even slightly tarty. Fuck, she was a wet dream!

She gazed around the room and waved a greeting when she saw me in the corner. As she walked over, I was smugly aware of several male customers staring longingly, eyes on stalks. One or two glanced at me with expressions of clear envy. "Hello, handsome," she grinned, joining me at the table. "Buy a girl a drink?"

"For sure. But first things first ... you look stunning, Jessica, just stunning!"

"Why thank you, sweetheart!" She leant forward, put a hand on my knee, fingered the lapel of my jacket. "You don't look so bad yourself, Mr Taylor. Excellent choice. I love a man in a good suit." Up close, Jessica was an even more delicious proposition. Her perfume, the shiny red gloss on her seductively full lips, the beautifully painted nails (also red), her bewitching dark brown eyes. She was simply ravishing. I was hit for six. I grinned bashfully, feeling about seventeen years old. "Yeah, it's my best one."

Jess smiled. "Well I'm glad, darling. I'm glad you're wearing your best suit just for me."

"So what do you wanna drink?" I asked her.

"Ooo, has to be champagne, don't you think?"

"Great idea." I went off to the bar and returned with two large glasses of iced bubbly. "To us," grinned Jess, raising hers. "Yeah, baby, to us," I replied. We clinked and took a sip (quite a big one in my case -- Jessica looked so breathtaking, made up and dressed to thrill like this, that I was feeling slightly nervous in her company). She seemed to sense this. "Relax, sweetie. Let's enjoy ourselves this evening. Hot date, I'm on, remember? A hot date with a hunky guy who's promised to show me a good time. That's what I told Janet when I left, anyway. Oh and she wished me luck. That was nice, wasn't it? Sounded like she meant it but just between you and me, sweetie, I'm not a hundred per cent sure she did. She looked a bit miserable, to be perfectly honest. Hey, Mark, you don't reckon my sister is a teeny bit jealous of me, do you?"

"Jan, jealous of you?" I grinned and took another sip of the champagne, nerves more settled now, getting in the swing. "Dunno, let me see. You're ten years younger than her, miles better looking, and you earn twenty times as much. No, Jessica, I can't see that she'd be at all jealous."

Jessica giggled. "You've missed something, haven't you?"

"What's that, Jess?"

"The little matter of me fooling around with her husband."

"She doesn't know that, though, does she?" I sniggered. "Like you said, silly cow is clueless."

"Mark Taylor! That's no way to talk about your wife! And my sister." The smile playing on her lips indicated that she felt otherwise, that she was very happy to hear me talk about Janet like this. "Anyway she's not totally clueless," Jessica continued. "She doesn't know about us being involved, thank goodness, but she DOES know you fancy me rotten."

"How come?" I said, surprised.

"Oh c'mon, sweetie. The way you've been looking at me these last couple of days, like you're a dog and I'm a juicy bone. Even my stupid sister has noticed a couple of times. She knows, baby, believe me. Call it female intuition."

"Ah ... Ok, but so what? I don't care if you don't."

"No, I don't care, honey. I like it that she knows. Fact, why don't you start making it really obvious? Stop being all furtive about it. I love you ogling me. Told you that, Mr Taylor, haven't I?"

"Not as much as I love doing it, Miss Sanchez," I grinned.

"So carry on, baby, is what I'm saying, and don't worry about Janet. Like I say, she knows already that you're into me. Be kinda fun to rub the poor thing's nose in it, won't it?"

I thought for a moment. "Yeah, it would. Let's do that. Your sister's been getting on my nerves lately, to be honest, and now that you're around ... well, let's just say my interest has dropped somewhere below zero. Like, I haven't told you this, but you know how you said last night for me to 'save it' for you?"

Jessica grinned. "That lovely big cock? Meant it too."

"Well, you don't need to worry. I haven't made love to Janet for over six months and I'm not about to start. So it's definitely all yours, baby, all yours."

"Six months! God, I couldn't go without a fuck for even six days. Poor sis. She'll be drying up!"

I chuckled, draining my glass. "Another?" I said, pointing at hers (which was nearly finished). "Mmm, please," she smiled. I returned with two more and we picked up the conversation where we'd left off. "So, Mr Taylor's cock is all mine, is it?" Jessica leant forward and brushed her hand against where my erection was straining. Then she sat back and raised her glass. "I'll drink to that!" We clinked again. "I guess that means YOU'VE gone six months too, sweetie, doesn't it?"

"Too right!"

"Poor baby. Sounds like I'm gonna get the fuck of my life," she teased.

"You better believe it, baby. Can't wait."

"Neither can I, sweetie. Hope you're figuring out the logistics."

"I am, Jess, don't worry." I hadn't, in fact, given this aspect much thought but a part of my brain got working on it there and then.

"Because Jan'd better not know. One thing her knowing that hubby fancies the pants of her little sister - that's cool - but if she finds out that hubby is fucking her little sister that won't be cool at all. So have a think about how we're gonna go about it, Mark, ok? Starting this weekend, if possible."

"This weekend?"

"Yeah. I want that cock of yours inside me before midnight Sunday. Let's call it a challenge. You like a challenge, sugar, don't you?"

"I do when that's the prize," I grinned.

Jessica took a drink, went quiet for a moment, looked thoughtful. Then about the wickedest grin I've ever seen broke across her face.

"What? What's so funny?"

"Oh nothing."

"Tell me," I pressed. She shook her head, having a fit of the giggles. "No, just thinking about poor Janet."

"What about her?"

Jessica controlled herself with an effort. "Well, you know, the situation. There she's gonna be, poor thing, zero sex, all upset and frustrated about not getting any, and meanwhile I'm gonna be having a ball. I'm gonna be getting busy with her husband, getting fucked by him right there in her own house. Can you imagine?"

"I like it, Jess, I like it. But does it HAVE to be at the house? What about hotels and stuff? Wouldn't that be an option sometimes?"

She shook her head. "No, sweetie. The house. Be more fun that way!"

"Ok, great. I'll sort something out for us."

"You do that, sweetie. I'm counting on you."

I looked around the bar, which was filling up. Most of the men in there were ogling Jessica and I pointed this out to her. She laughed. "Yeah, well, I'm used to that. You don't mind, baby, do you?" I assured her I didn't. "Good. Because you're the man I'm with, right?"

"Right," I grinned.

"I mean, you wouldn't rather be HIM, would you?" Jessica indicated with a flick of her eyes a middle-aged couple sitting at a nearby table. I saw what she meant. The guy was staring across at Jessica's legs, an expression of agonised longing on his face. It was hilarious. Even funnier was how his female companion could see what was going on and was clearly livid. "No, I wouldn't. Shit, Jess, she looks about ready to hit him!"

"I know! God, Mark, look at her. I'd hate to be a frumpy thing like that. Bet she hates me."

"Bet she does, babe, yes," I chuckled.

"Hey, watch this," said Jess. She shifted her chair, angled it in their direction, and slowly, teasingly, crossed and re-crossed her legs a couple of times, let her shoe slide part the way off, dangled it from her toes, all the while gazing coolly over at this couple. The guy was positively drooling, the poor woman looking at Jessica with about the sourest expression you can imagine. "Etc etc," said Jess, turning back to me, satisfied smirk on her face. I grinned at her. "Sanchez, you're SUCH a bitch!"

"Why thank you! The other day I was a 'tease'. Now I'm a 'bitch'. You do know how to compliment a girl, Mr Taylor, don't you?"

I just laughed.

She excused herself and went to the bathroom ("Just freshen up before we go, sugar."): cue hip-waggling sashay across the bar with several pairs of longing male eyes (and some jealous female ones) following her every move. Same thing five minutes later on her way back (they'd all been waiting for it). I think that was the moment, sitting there and watching this, that I realised just how incredible it must be being a gorgeous looking woman like Jessica. The power it gives you. The fun you can have. The pleasure you can bring to others.