The House of Robles 1.4

"Oh, damn." He said, his voice still shaky. "I don't know why you just did that, but..."

"Shut up, already." Carmela ordered him, once again drawing nearer to his cock. She took him in her mouth, gently rolling his flaccid length around with her tongue, and licking away at the sweet and sticky semen that still clung to his member.

Junior could only gape down at her, until her explicit caresses brought about more moans from his mouth. "Oh, fuck yeah."

Carmela's hands reached upwards, her fingers playing across his sculpted stomach muscles and rubbing against his strong chest. Her mouth kept massaging his limp cock, as if trying to will the beast back to life.

They both heard the sound of the toilet flushing downstairs.

"Damn it!" Carmela snapped, pushing Junior back and hurrying over to the vanity mirror. "He'll be up here any second." She gazed briefly at her unkempt reflection, then grabbed the edge of her bathrobe and began earnestly wiping away cum from her face and neck. "It's all over my hair, you asshole!" Frantically, she tried to yank the robe higher, then, seeing no other alternative, she untied it and pulled the entire thing off, and eventually balled up one end and rubbed the robe vigorously to clean up the sticky mess.

"Hey, honey?" Frankie clearly shouted from downstairs. "Did you find the sneakers? And where's the remote control? Have you seen it?"

"Be right there." Carmela replied loudly and casually, tossing the sticky robe towards a far corner of the room. Clad only in her bra and underwear now, she brazenly doubled over to snatch up the pair of shoes, carelessly stepping past Junior and hurrying down the short hall leading to the overlook. "Now, what did you say?"

"I said, where is the remote?" Frankie repeated, tossing aside a couple of couch pillows. Finally, he got down on his stomach to look underneath the couch. "I see it. You must have set it on the carpet next to the couch, and kicked it underneath again. How many times have I told you, when you finish watching TV, put the damn thing on the coffee table? Is that such a complicated thing to do?"

"What do you need it for, anyway?" Carmela replied impatiently, struggling to keep the rising irritation out of her voice. A second later, the pair of shoes left her grip and landed with a loud splat on the ceramic tile far below. "There go your fucking shoes!"

Ignoring the inflammatory action, Frankie retrieved the control, then clicked on the television and began cycling through the channels.

With his attention on the TV, Carmela stole a quick glance behind her, shocked to see Junior standing just outside her bedroom, still fully naked and sporting a wide and mischievous smirk on his face. She waved behind her back furiously, hoping he would get the hint and make himself scarce until Frankie left.

"Get back in there!" She whispered harshly.

"Dammitt!" Frankie cursed, forcing Carmela's attention back to the living room.

"Frankie, what are you doing?" Carmela asked in a falsely sweet voice. "Aren't you supposed to be heading off to work right now? Like you do every other time you come in here and grab your lunch?"

"I'm trying to find out what time the Jacksonville game starts." Frankie replied, totally absorbed in the numbers on the screen. "I've got fifty bucks riding on that one." He looked up at her for a second, doing a double take when he noticed her robe was gone. "You know, you shouldn't be walking around the house like that. What if somebody sees you through a window or something?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, all the curtains are already closed." Carmela rolled her eyes. "I could walk around naked all day, and nobody around here will notice. Nobody will even care."

Suspecting that the comment was somehow directed at him, Frankie again shot a quick glance at his wife. A second later, he wordlessly turned back towards the TV.

By this time, Carmela was getting a tad impatient. It was bad enough that Frankie refused to give her any attention, and that just a few feet behind her, stood somebody who undoubtedly would, if only she could get her husband to leave the apartment. "But won't you be late for your second job?"

With visible irritation, Frankie looked up. "I've got five full minutes before I have to get on the road. Are you trying to get rid of me, or what?"

"No, of course not!" Carmela protested, a little too loudly. "I just don't want you to get into any trouble. You know how your boss is."

"My boss is an asshole." Frankie raised the volume on the sports news, and was now watching some of the previous day's highlights. "Did I tell you that Hairy Jerry was going to kick his ass the other day?"

Carmela was about to answer, when she felt a pair of hands gently caress her ass. She glanced back, surprised to find Junior crouched behind her, and still sporting that same shit-eating grin on his face. "Get the fuck out of here!" She whispered angrily.

"What was that?" Frankie asked from below.

"Oh, I just asked what happened?" Carmela asked, kicking back sharply with her heel, and hearing a grunt as she struck some unseen part of Junior's anatomy. "You're talking about that old man with the heavy beard?"

"Yeah, that's Hairy Jerry all right." Frankie nodded, still staring at the TV, where a truck commercial had just come on. "Crusty old Miguel told Jerry not to take any shop towels home, and Jerry denied he'd ever taken anything..."

Carmela forced Junior's inquiring hands away from her butt, half pinching at them with her nails and hoping he would get the message and retreat. A brief look behind her revealed that her brother-in-law had simply dropped down onto his knees, next to her legs and patiently waiting for the opportune moment to strike again.

"--could see the towels laying right there on the back seat of Hairy Jerry's station-wagon. So Miguel--"

Junior's hands reached up her lean thighs, pausing and investigating their insides, then again worked themselves up to her tight butt, and began kneading and groping her ass cheeks. In spite of the situation, and perhaps because she knew her that her simple husband was oblivious to what was happening, Carmela felt herself getting turned on.

"--and Hairy Jerry said he'd been set up, that somebody else had placed the towels inside his car without him even knowing. Can you believe that shit--"

One daring hand reached in between her legs, rubbing and circling as it went, and with a long and sensual sigh, Carmela quietly spread her legs and leaned forward on the ledge of the stucco covered balcony. The hand found her sweet spot immediately, cupping her excited mound and making her fear she'd soon start to cum into her bright red panties. The fingers continued their exploration, drawing forward over her pussy, then back around her ass.

"--Jerry said, 'Put your dukes up!' and Miguel, well, he didn't know what to do, so he--"

Junior's hand quietly crept under the elastic of her panties, and in expectation, in ecstasy, Carmela closed her eyes.

"Are you even listening to me?" Frankie looked up at her briefly. "You're not even looking at me. It's like you're somewhere else!"

Carmela's mouth was hanging open, and she quickly tried to remember what her husband was saying. "Of course I am! I'm listening."

"Why do I even bother talking to you? You never listen to me."

"I said I was listening." Carmela repeated, feeling a series of quick tugs pull at her sides, and with each tug, her panties slipped down a few more inches. "You said they both got into a fight over some stupid shop towels? Right?"

"No, no, no." Frankie was clearly irritated, just as the sports show started up again. "I said they almost got into a fight. We broke it up before it got serious, but those guys haven't talked to each other ever since then."

Carmela's underwear was by now down to her ankles, and it felt so good to have the air swirling around her bare ass, and to have Junior teasing her while her husband stood just a few yards below and totally unaware, as was always the case, of what was going on. Her brother-in-law's hands returned to the exploration of her legs, enticingly sliding up and down their length. They found their way to the edges of her butt, tracing the soft curves of her skin and bringing both soft shudders and goose pimples to it, then working their way towards her moist middle, where they grazed past and tickled at the trimmed hairs which outlined her private entrance. One brazen finger crept in, swirling around her love hole like a tiny boat caught in a whirlpool, plunging into her with such a swift accuracy that it forced a sharp gasp from her throat.

Absently, Frankie waved for her to be quiet. "Hold on, they're talking about the game."

The long finger poked and slid about, and with her teeth clenched tightly to prevent any further sounds from exiting, Carmela slowly undulated backwards, arching her ass against the invading digit, while Junior's other hand caressed the length of her leg.

"Shit, the game's going to start at five, not at three like I thought." She heard Frankie complaining from the first level. "Now, what'd you say?"

"You said the game was starting later," She thought quickly. "Does that mean you'll be coming home late?"

Frankie shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, I might. Depends on the evening traffic. Who knows how many people will want their cars washed later today, since they won't be heading straight home to watch the game at three, like I thought earlier."

"But I really wanted to spend some time with you." Carmela explained, suddenly remorseful that the only sexual attention she was getting was coming from outside of her marriage. "I hardly ever see you now, with you working every single day of the week."

Frankie casually returned his attention towards the screen. "Well, if you hadn't maxed out your credit cards, I wouldn't need to be working two jobs, would I?"

Junior's daring hands reached up to fondle her bare ass, and a short but powerful shudder ran through Carmela's spine, resulting in a quick and sharp yelp.

"Are you okay?" Frankie asked, this time not even bothering to glance up. "You're acting kind of weird today."

"I was about to sneeze, but I caught myself." Carmela lied, feeling the lone finger penetrate her again. Gritting her teeth together, she bucked back hard into Junior's steady hand, and while keeping a close eye on her husband, she started shoving her ass backwards, even as the finger struggled to keep up with her movements.

"I hope you're not coming down with a cold or something."

"Ohhh, I hope I don't either." Carmela stammered, still driving herself back and lathering the invading finger with her wet cunt. "But I think I'm getting a headache. Maybe I should lay down for a while."

"Yeah, take some of my vitamins, too." Frankie said, clicking the TV off. "I don't want you getting sick, because you might get me sick, too. Then I might have to miss work, and it'll make it that much harder to pay off those fucking credit cards that you maxed out."

Carmela nodded, concealing her flushed face by dropping her head on top of her hands. Her fingers were now tightly gripping the thick edge of the balcony.

Junior's face inched closer to her behind, and just after his excited breaths blew warm air on her ass, his tongue lashed out to probe between the swells of her buttocks.

"Oh, shit." She mumbled sensually.

Junior's tongue revolved a few times around her anus, taking wet pokes at the spot, and entering its secrets for only the minutest of moments. The tongue withdrew briefly, as if gathering its strength, until it charged forward once more. Pulling away, the tongue roamed a short distance south, prompting Carmela to arch her back further, and allow the slick appendage access to her moist pussy.

"I guess I should be heading out." Frankie called up to her, making his way across the living room floor. Instead of heading toward the door, however, he'd turned toward the kitchen. "Thanks for having the sandwich ready."

"Just the way you like it." Carmela replied, bracing herself as the invasive tongue began pumping in and out of her folds.

Frankie disappeared from view, briefly scaring Carmela with the impression that he was coming up the stairs. Once she'd heard him opening and closing the kitchen drawers, she relaxed a little, and allowed the sensations of the skillful tongue behind her to rack her body with an intense and increasing pleasure.

"I don't want any hot chips today. Do we still have any corn chips?" Frankie's voice could be heard from the kitchen.

"Not in the little bags," Carmela mouthed a steamy yet silent moan, then struggled to find her voice as the merciless tongue went to work on her clit. "There's half a bag of corn chips, aahh, in the back cabinet."

A few seconds passed before Frankie's voice reached her again. "I found it. Is it okay if I take the entire bag? It's nearly empty, anyway."

"Take it!" Carmela shouted down, even as a probing finger squeezed itself past her seducer's warm face.

The finger traced upwards, ignoring the rapid movements of Junior's tongue, and centered itself on her asshole. A few quick jabs signaled its intentions, causing Carmela to reach back with one hand in an effort to swipe it away.

Frankie walked back into the living room, and as Carmela brought her husband into focus, Junior forced his wet index finger right into her ass.

"Oh, oh!" Carmela winced, noting Frankie's quick glance upwards. "Sorry. I almost sneezed again."

Frankie simply shook his head, and kept walking towards the front door. "You'd better not be getting sick. I mean it."

Carmela quickly and quietly nodded, keeping her head down and trying to keep her breathing under control. "You son of a bitch." She hissed down between her legs.

"Hey, that's my mom you're talking about!" Junior whispered fiercely.

Frankie paused in the open doorway. "I'll see you later tonight. Okay?"

"Okay." Carmela looked up, trying to give him her best smile. "Don't stay out too late."

"Laters." Frankie waved goodbye. "And don't forget to put some clothes on. And don't forget to take those vitamins, either."

The door closed shut behind him, and a moment later, she could hear the deadbolt locking into place.

Junior pressed his face right up against her ass, and his tongue tried to squeeze into the tight space his finger had invaded just moments before. She gave in to his erotic attention, gasping at the reckless intrusions and even arching her ass further back to greet him. When Junior's finger started creeping closer, she straightened up quickly and spun around to face the kneeling culprit. "You little asshole! I can't believe you did that in front of Frankie! Do you know how close I came to screaming out loud?"

Carmela shoved her stunned brother-in-law back so roughly he had no choice but to roll onto his back. Before he could react, Carmela mounted his thighs and clamped a tight grip on his shaft. She squeezed on it hard. "Do you know how much trouble you could have gotten me into? How about if I decide to stick my finger up your ass?"

"Ow, ow!" Junior groaned and chuckled at the same time. "Hey, I was just returning the favor. You went down on me first, remember?"

"Yeah, but I didn't have an audience watching me the whole time!" Carmela snapped back. "Imagine if your dumb brother had figured out what was really going on?"

"Hey, he's not that dumb."

"Oh, whatever. He's as dumb as a couch."

"Well, you married him!"

Carmela still held Junior's cock in her hand, and she gave it a few more tugs, but these weren't as harsh as the last ones. She could do so many things with that cock, she imagined, if she really wanted to take her time with it. Carmela didn't have the patience for any foreplay at the moment. She just wanted to get good and screwed, and right away.

Carmela crawled forward those last few inches, still in possession of the long rod, and poised her body to engulf it. "I know you want this."

"Hell yeah I do. I'm not denying that."

As Carmela gracefully settled her weight onto Junior, she felt his cock slide smoothly into her steaming void. Just before she started her erotic ride, she leaned forward and placed her hands on either side of Junior's shoulders, gazing into his enthralled eyes even as her long curls dropped down around her.

"It's your lucky day." She purred. "Because I'm feeling very naughty right now."

If there was one thing that Junior had learned about women, it was to let them have their way if that's what they wanted. So when his brother's wife started a quiet and rhythmic grind, he simply lay there and trickled his hands across her sides every once in a while. Only when Carmela's breathing began to deepen, and when her movements began to accelerate, did he bring up his expectant hands and curl his fingers around the great swells of her bra.

At the height of her climax, Junior slipped her body to one side and mounted her, pressing his flesh into her and clasping her shoulders to keep her in place. Keeping with the pace that Carmela had just set, he rocked back and forth with her, feeling her legs snare his lower back, and her arms clasp his upper half, and each timed thrust coincided with the release of Carmela's breaths.

Finally, when Junior could hold back no longer, he slowed his pace and instead of a fast and furious finish, he experienced a much more controlled, yet equally powerful climax. His head dropped next to Carmela's, and their perspiring faces brushed together, even as they mutually became aware of the sweet and cooling sweat on the exposed parts of their flesh. Still, they held each other close, as if what they'd just experienced might have meant more than just a random fling, but each knowing that the truth was a much harsher reality.

When the moment of passion had faded away, Junior rolled onto his back, giving Carmela whatever space he thought she might need.

"That was nice." She said, a few moments later. "I haven't had a good fuck like that in a long time. I really needed it like that too, like a lover would do it, instead of like a cheap quickie."

Carmela sat up, and she might have been feeling a bit of remorse for cheating on her husband, with his own brother even, but then she recalled how she'd given him plenty of opportunity to make something happen, and how he kept walking away from her time after time. It was Frankie's fault that she'd cheated on him, she rightfully concluded.

Junior sat up next to her.

"What are you going to do?" Carmela asked.

Junior shrugged. "I don't know. Thanks to you, I'll probably have to take another shower, and I guess I'm walking home after that. Unless you want to give me a ride, that is."

Give him a ride, he said. The daring woman smirked to herself; I just did, and maybe I'll do it again.

Melancholy did not sit well with Carmela. Her motto was; you make your own path, and if you don't like it, you move on. She just hadn't decided if Frankie was on the same path as she was, or blocking it, and she wasn't ready to make a final decision on him. At least, not yet she wasn't. So Carmela got to her feet, and for a moment, the young man sitting on the floor wondered if that was what super models looked like naked.

She undid her bra, finally, and let it fall onto the floor. "I think I need to take a shower, too." She took the handful of steps into the bathroom, where she paused at the doorway and looked back. "Are you coming, or am I doing this all by myself?"

Grinning, Frankie got up and followed her inside.