Taken by my Fiancés Brother

A True Story.

I have always been different than most girls. I was never the type that dreamed about getting married and living in that perfect house with the white picket fence. I had nothing against that fantasy; it just wasn't for me. In fact, at a very young age, I decided I would never get married. It probably started when my mother and older evil sister started tormenting me about my ugly looks and how no boy would ever be interested in me. I was the butt of many cruel jokes at the dinner table, and in the long term, I am sure that had some effect on me.

As I became older, this sentiment carried on. When I began dating my future husband, I repeatedly told him I was not interested in marriage. He seemed fine with that, but then as time passed, he ended up proposing to me. The proposal was a complete shock to me, and I reacted very badly... we actually broke up for a couple of months as a result. (Read the story about that disaster.)

One of the reasons I never wanted to marry was that I knew I could never remain faithful to just one man. I had a long history of cheating on every guy I had ever dated, including my future husband. I thought there was something wrong with me. I still do at times.

Several months after the marriage proposal fiasco, against my better judgement and what I believed in up to that point, I found myself engaged and living with my fiancée. I always found it strange how little control I had of my life's path. This has been the case throughout my life; things just happen to me, regardless of any plans I have.

I moved in with my fiancé about a year before we got married. Things started to move fast, too fast. Plans for the wedding were made. People all knew I was getting married. I felt that my future was being planned for me. I was overwhelmed by it all.

Once I became engaged, I made a promise to myself that I would be faithful to my fiancé. I was trying very hard, and even though he was travelling on business quite a bit, I tried to stay away from situations that would make me slip. Deep down, I knew it was a futile attempt.

My fiancé had purchased a small house, and he was always working on renovations with his older brother.

His older brother was married. He was the strong, silent type...very handy and attractive, I might add. He didn't say much, but I was intimated by his rugged good looks. We never talked much, but I could sense that he wasn't buying my good girl next door persona. I have always said there have been men that can just look at me and they seem to see right through me and know there is an inner slut within me. He was one of those men. He always looked at me with that, "I want to fuck your brains out" look. Women know that look.

In any case, I stayed clear of him...no teasing or joking around. He was off limits in my book. I wanted to be respectful to my fiancé. The last thing I wanted was to cause problems between the two brothers.

During one of the renovation projects, my boyfriend had to go out of town on business. He told me that he asked his brother to come around one evening during the week when he was gone to finish the job. He told me to just let him in the house and he would do his thing.

I wasn't sure about this...but what could I say? I can sense that your brother thinks I'm a slut. I know what your brother is thinking when he looks at me... and it makes me wet? I don't trust myself being alone with your brother. So I hesitantly agreed.

One evening, I came home from work and found his brother waiting in his car for me. I invited him into the house and made small talk with him. He complimented me on how good I looked in my dress and heels. I was a bit embarrassed but showed him to the room he was working on. I got a glass of wine for myself and he wanted water. I didn't want to be rude and ignore him, so I went into the room and sat on a chair to watch him work. My legs were exposed as I sat there with my legs crossed. He kept glancing at my legs as he worked. His looks were getting me worked up, so I decided I had better leave the room to do some chores.

I usually change out of my work clothes when I get home, but he liked my dress, so I kept it on as well as the heels. Bad thoughts were going through my head, so I tried to avoid him. I had another glass of wine to unwind with.

Before long, he called me into the room to show me his completed work. I praised his work and thanked him for a job well done. That's when he gave me that look... and said,

"You can thank me better than that."

There was a split second of silence as I processed what he meant. I knew exactly what he meant, but I played dumb and said, "Thank you very much." Things became awkward as he turned and stepped closer to me in silence.

He moved closer, just staring into my eyes. My heart began to race; no, it was pounding... I bit my bottom lip, as I always do when I'm nervous... This was exactly what I was afraid of. I didn't say anything. I just froze. He moved right up to me. I fell back against the wall, being tipsy from the wine and as if to surrender. He placed his forearms on the wall on either side of me. I was trapped.

There was silence and I could feel his breath on me as my heart pounded and I began to fidget. He dropped one hand down from the wall, and it landed on my hip. I felt his hand slide down and thru the split in my dress. His big strong hand slid up my bare thigh. Oh my god, it was happening.

I knew it was too late to turn back. I knew there was no way I could stop him, even if I wanted to.

"Don't... don't... don't..."I sheepishly mumbled, breaking the silence. My brain was telling me "NO," but physically I was aroused.

He paid no attention to my words as his hand travelled further up my leg.

He had rough worker hands, and his hands felt like sandpaper as they moved across my soft and tender skin. He grabbed my ass and pulled me closer. I should have resisted, but I didn't resist at all. In fact, I lifted my leg up as he pulled on it and I wrapped it around him. I wanted him as badly as he wanted me.

He leaned in and attempted to kiss me. I turned my head, but he grabbed the back of my neck and turned my head back around. He planted his lips on mine and roughly kissed me as I struggled. He had a firm hold of the back of my head, and he pulled my lips to his. As much as I struggled not to kiss him and pull away, I couldn't. His tongue roughly probed to separate my lips. I was moaning and fighting him. I knew if I reciprocated his kiss, there would be no turning back.

And then it happened, just like a switch had been flipped. I stopped struggling and engaged in his rough and passionate kiss. I kissed him back just as rough as he was kissing me. I bit his lip, which startled him for a few seconds, and then we continued on. I could taste his bloody lips, and it aroused me even more.

He had me pinned up against the wall, and we both began entangling our bodies like two sex-starved animals.

He had a hold of my ass, pulling me hard into his groin. I felt his other hand drop from feeling my breasts into my panties. I then realised my panties were soaked. He acknowledged it also with a moan of approval.

I broke our kiss, dropped my leg down, put both hands on his chest, and managed to push him back for the smallest bit of separation. He still had his hand in my panties, but he momentarily stopped exploring. We locked eyes in silence. This was our last opportunity to stop -- to come to our senses and not cross that line.

Then in a moment that I will never forget, he curled his index finger into my vagina in the same manner as when someone is telling you to come here. I let out a loud gasp in defeat. The moment he curled his finger inside of me he had me. My vagina was soaking wet and he was standing there in silence watching me as he masterfully used his digits to stimulate my yearning.

My legs went all rubbery as I leaned against the wall. My head rolled and thrashed around like a rag doll. The idea of doing something so taboo, so erotic, was too much. I felt my legs part open as his thumb found my clitoris and his finger pushed deep inside of me. I heard him whisper

"Cum for me... You little fucking slut... cum."

I had never heard him talk like this before. But I knew he was right. I am such a slut. I didn't deserve his brother nor anyone else.

And so, that's exactly what I did. I began to orgasm. Not just once, but multiple times as he continued to watch and stimulate my clitoris without mercy.

I could feel my warm juices running down my leg. I don't think I was ever as wet as at that moment. In retrospect, I think that was the very first time I squirted. It wasn't a big profound squirt, but I did feel something different happening. Back then, I didn't even know squirting was possible, but I'm pretty sure that's what I experienced.

I finally managed to push his hand away as I was getting over-stimulated. I grabbed his wet hand and led him into the bedroom. Again, never speaking a word, just like the good little slut that I was.

"Take off your clothes," was all he said as he sat on the edge of the bed watching. I felt so embarrassed and vulnerable. I slowly unhinged my dress and let it drop to the floor. He just watched and nodded for me to continue. I slowly let my bra straps slide down my shoulders and I reached to unhook my bra. I held it in place as I looked up at him. He was stoic as he watched. I slowly dropped my bra and let my breasts fall. I knew my nipples were erect and firm; how could they not be?

I quickly reached down and my wet pants fell around my ankles. Luckily, I was clean shaven. I stepped out of the puddle of clothes and went to reach to remove my high heels, but he reached forward and grabbed my arms to stop me.

"Get on your knees," he demanded.

I fell to my knees as I dared not disobey him.

I immediately began to unfasten his belt and pants. He stood there watching as I pulled down his jockeys and released his cock. It sprang free, firm and stiff. He was bigger than his brother and very hairy. not shaven at all, or maybe never. It had been a while since I had seen such a hairy cock.

He remained calm and in control as I knelt in front of him. I licked my lips in anticipation. He noticed and said,

"You have been dying to suck my cock, haven't you?"

I didn't respond, but just made a whimpering sound.

He grabbed my hair and yanked it back so that we made eye contact.

"What did you say, you little slut?"

"Yes, I have been dying to suck your cock." He was in control and I liked it.

With that, he pulled my head forward and implanted his cock in my mouth.

I began to gag and choke as it took me a while to get used to all the hair. But once his cock was wet with my saliva, I began sucking him. He had a gentle but firm hold of my head as he guided his cock back and forth into my mouth.

After a few minutes, he pulled out and wrapped his big, strong hand around my throat and pulled me up off my knees. He pushed me onto the bed, and climbed between my legs. He continued to hold me by my throat. He was big and strong, and I felt powerless in his hands.

He positioned himself over me as he held me down by my throat, not choking me, just a tight grasp.

I felt helpless but horny as he towered over me in complete control. Me completely naked with only my high heels on and my legs spread open. His hard, stiff, cock hovering over my smooth, glistening, wet vagina waiting to penetrate me.

"You want me to fuck you, don't you?" he said.

I nodded and he said, "Say it."

"I want you to fuck me," I pleaded.

"You want your fiancé's brother to fuck you? Say it, you little slut."

He was right; I did want him to fuck me. I needed him to fuck me so badly.

"FUCK ME! Please!"

"Guide me in," he ordered.

I reached down and slowly guided his cock through my wet and inviting labia. I was so wet and horny that he just slid deep inside, despite his size. I felt his weight on me as he pinned my petite body beneath him. His cock impaled deep inside of me. I knew full well I was in for a rough, hard pounding.

For the next hour, he pounded me relentlessly. The taboo of my fucking my fiancé's brother, and him his future sister-in-law, was so fucking erotic for both of us. The best way I can describe it was as pure animal sex. He was rough, and he tossed me around the bed in any position he pleased. I was a willing vessel for his cock. I fucked him back as hard as I could. I rode him like a possessed, sex-crazed slut. He had me screaming and begging for more and more.

He had unbelievable stamina and he gave me the fucking of my life. He had me in a sexual frenzy like never before. We both came multiple times that evening. He had cum inside me twice and once in my mouth and over my face.

I was surprised at how hard he remained for the entire evening. I wondered if he had taken Viagra before he arrived. Did he have every intention of having sex with me before he came to the house? I dared not question him.

After he had his way with me, he got dressed and left without saying a word. I couldn't believe he just left without saying anything. Was he angry at me? Was he feeling guilty?

He left me naked and used, sprawled across my soon-to-be matrimonial bed. I was covered in his juices as well as his little black curly body hairs. I felt like I had been in a sexual marathon.

What had I gotten myself into? The guilt was now creeping in.

The next day, I was riddled with guilt. I was four months away from getting married and I had not only cheated, but I had cheated with his older brother. I immersed myself in my work in hopes of forgetting my poor conduct the night before. I tried to repress the thought that it was probably the best sex I had ever experienced.

That evening, I rushed home to have a long soothing bath as my body was still aching. I also planned to retire early to catch up on the sleep I missed the night before, when I heard a knock at my front door. I was a little bit apprehensive about answering it as my boyfriend was still out of town. From the front window, I could see it was my fiancé's brother.

Oh shit! I had assumed that the previous night was a one-time thing, but there he was. Maybe he just wanted to talk? Maybe he felt guilty like me?

I hesitated to open the door as I wasn't sure what to do.I knew if I opened the door there was a good chance we would be fucking our brains out again. This was so taboo, so wrong, but it was also so hot. My sexual urges overpowered my brain.

I opened the door. As soon as he came through the doorway, he just took me. It was pure animal sex all over again. No talking. He just took me and had his way. Again, it was wild, passionate sex and just like the previous night once he finished with me he just left without a word.

Although the sex was incredible, maybe the best I had ever had, the guilt afterwards was debilitating. I was paralysed with guilt and confusion. When my boyfriend proposed to me the first time, I reacted badly and ended up having sex with two strangers that night. My boyfriend found out and we broke up for two months. It took me months and months to repair that blunder, and now I was having sex with his brother. What the fuck was wrong with me? I was obviously not wife material. I questioned whether I should even get married. I always feared I could never stay faithful to my husband, and this just proved it.

About three weeks after our encounter, my fiancé was away on another business trip. One morning, at about 6 a.m., I was awakened by a pounding at the door. I was terrified.

It was his brother...again. I thought something had happened, but instead he was there for me. All he said was "I want you." Then he grabbed me in his arms and took me. I didn't resist at all. My housecoat was ripped off in the front hall, and by the time we made it to the bedroom, we were both naked.

I had no idea his brother would just show up like that and take me. I couldn't believe what was happening. But I was so aroused that I just couldn't stop myself. I wanted to be taken. I wanted to submit. I had become his fuck toy. I was hooked on the wild, raw animal sex. He was big and strong, and he pounded me like no other man before or after. I was addicted.

And so it continued. He knew when my fiancé was travelling on business and he would just show up. He never called, texted, or emailed. He would just appear.

This went on for several months before I married his brother. I was so torn. His brother was in my head. The sex with him was all I could think of. As soon as my fiancee left on a business trip, I was in a "heightened state of arousal". Yes, that's the best way to explain it, "a heightened state of arousal". Would his brother show up today? Tomorrow? Later in the week? Or not at all? I found myself masturbating continually in anticipation.

Even when my fiancé was home, I found myself aroused and we were having much more sex than normal. My fiancé thought it was because I was thrilled to be engaged... Sure, let's go with that.

We both knew this couldn't continue, but it did, right up to a week before the wedding date.

The week before our wedding, my husband left for his last business trip before our wedding. His brother, knowing it was our last time together, came to the house six times in the four days my fiancé was gone. We had so much sex that he almost broke me. He did everything imaginable for me, including anal, and I loved it.

My whole body was sore and I was taking painkillers all week. I thought I was going to walk down the aisle bow-legged. It was a week I will never forget.

One of the last times we had sex, he ordered me to wear my wedding night outfit. I had purchased a sexy white lace-up corset with thigh-high white stockings. The corset pulled my waist in and accentuated my breasts. I wore it for him and he loved it. He took pictures of me and then he fucked me so hard. It was so erotic that he wanted to have sex with me while wearing my wedding night outfit. He intentionally got his semen all over it and ordered that I not clean it as a reminder. I thought it was extremely erotic so I obeyed. Besides, it was white and the stains didn't show too much.

Once married, our affair ended. There was no discussion; it was understood. He just stopped coming over. It's a good thing he did, because I'm pretty sure I was not strong enough to refuse him.

I still see him around regularly, but it's like it never happened. I would submit to him in a heartbeat if he wanted me.

Have you had sex with an in-law? I'd love to hear about it.

Feel free to visit my forum thread for pictures and more discussions about my stories.