Trading Stories

Trading Stories

I woke up some time in the middle of the night. My wife and our new baby were asleep in the bed with me. I had to pee, so there was little hope of getting back to sleep. Trying not to wake them, I gently pushed aside the blankets and made my way out of the unfamiliar room.

My in-laws liked to hold annual mini reunions like this one. They'd rent a house in the Hamptons, or Delaware, or the Catskills. Someplace nice but not too unreasonably priced. They'd get a house with lots of rooms and invite everybody.

Since they did it every year, a lot of people in the family would skip, or only come for a day or two, but there was always a nice group of people; it's a big family. So, we'd budge up, or sleep on couches, or even on the floor. There wasn't always a lot of privacy, is what I'm getting at, but there was always a lot of fun for kids and grown-ups alike.

This year, what with the hopefully waning pandemic tamping enthusiasm down, we weren't that crowded. Also, it was the middle of the week, so those that only showed up for the long weekend were back at work.

This meant that the married couples mostly had rooms to themselves with their kids. Which was nice, really. Once I'd taken care of my needs, I began to appreciate just how nice.

Deciding that I would like to have a drink, or a snack, or something, I wandered down to the kitchen rather than heading back to our room. Which mean that I passed my newly-wed sister-in-law's room.

When I heard the sharp moan come from the door, at first I thought it was my imagination. But it stopped me in my tracks long enough to hear a few more gasps and groans. I was a little slow from my recent sleep, but even so I figured out right away what I was hearing.

They're fucking, I thought, grinning. I was immediately excited. I'm a bit ashamed to admit it, but I've long had a thing for my sister-in-law. I suppose it's to be expected in a way, right? I mean, I was attracted to her sister, naturally if I have a type, my wife's sister would be as likely as anyone else to have those qualities I'm attracted to.

It's a bit beyond that, though. Some of it is simply that she's younger than my wife and I are by over a decade. In our mid-forties, my wife and I aren't quite as sexy as we used to be. She's still a great looking woman, certainly better looking than me! But asking her to compete with a late-twenties version of herself is more than a bit unfair.

It's not just that she's a younger sexy brunette than my wife, though. She's quirky and fun in an endearing way that I wouldn't prefer in a partner to my more stoic wife, but is somehow really appealing for a fantasy fuck.

There's also a weird sort of forbidden fruit thing going on somewhere in my subconscious too. This woman was just a kid when I met her. I watched her grow into a very pretty girl, then an uncomfortably cute teenager, and finally a breathtakingly hot young woman. All of which meant that there were some wires crossed somewhere in my brain. I absolutely couldn't have this woman, but oh, did I want her all the same.

And now I was standing in my sleep shorts outside her room while she was having what must have been an absolutely lovely bit of sex with her gawky husband. They were a cute couple, no doubt about it, but let me just say right here that he was the lucky one in that relationship. They were both sweet and quirky, so they got along really well, but he wasn't in her league looks-wise. He must be a pretty good lay, though, judging by what sounds Lauren was making in her room.

I imagine, given her fun-loving and outgoing personality, that Lauren would have to be more comfortable with letting loose and making noise during sex than my wife. After all, I don't think that we'd be having sex in the same house as her parents even if the baby wasn't in the bed with us. But I still have to imagine that she'd be trying to keep things a little quiet, not that I could tell. It sounded like she was having one long continuous orgasm. She'd pant, yip, and let out a long keening moan, then repeat the whole thing.

Well, I thought, I guess my wife and her sister aren't that different. They both clearly like sex. I was hard as rebar, listening to her come. I was surreptitiously rubbing myself through my shorts. It was all I could do not slip a hand under the waistband and join in a bit. I mean, this was some powerfully erotic stuff. My obsession with this woman, right or wrong as it might be, meant that I had often wondered what she sounded like in the throes of passion. Turns out, she was hot as hell.

It's another weird thing. Her voice had a sort of burr in it, the sort that shows up in your normal speaking voice, not just in the lower registers. For some strange reason I find it sexy as all anything, and I was more that little thrilled to find that it showed up in her sexual vocalizations as well.

I was beginning to have a real hard time, pun intended. I was seriously beginning to think that masturbating in the hall outside her door was a perfectly acceptable thing to do, getting caught be damned, when their pace quickened and things briefly intensified before coming to a most satisfying conclusion. After a pause in the sound, I heard their muffled voices, and I knew the show, so to speak, was over for now. So, I scampered to the kitchen as silently as I could, not wanting to get caught outside their room should one in the amorous pair have need for a post-coital bathroom run or something.

I was smiling ear to ear, knowing that this experience would enhance any solitary amusements I might have for years to come. I am what I am. I was leaning over, scanning the contents of the fridge, when I heard their door open in the hall.

I heard her feet padding toward the kitchen, so I found myself wondering what I might say to her. Hopefully, nothing stupid.

"Hey David," she said cheerfully once she spotted me at the fridge.

"Hi Laur," I said, looking up at her. I, for one, was surprised to see that she was walking normally. She was a petite woman, so it wouldn't be accurate to say that she had long legs, as such, but her lovely legs were mostly bare in a pair of brief black shorts. A simple lavender tee-shirt completed her post-fucking sleepwear. Her wavy light brown hair was adorably mussed. Unsurprisingly, she had a big smile on her face.

"What are you doing up?" she asked, cheerfully. You had to hand it to her, she was always bubbly.

"Oh, you know, thirsty I guess," I said lamely, gesturing to the fridge.

"Anything good in there? I'm thirsty myself," she said, grabbing a chair at the table.

"I'll bet," I said, cursing inwardly when I heard the leer creep into my voice. I just couldn't help it! I put my hand over my eyes, not turning to look at her, just facing the stupid refrigerator and hoping that she didn't pick up on it.

After a pause, I heard her say, "Shit. You heard us, huh?"

"Damn, I'm sorry Lauren, I was trying to play it cool and pretend I hadn't heard a thing. I don't know why I said that."

She chuckled. "Decorum has never really been your thing."

"No, I suppose not," I said. "There's really nothing here. Some juice, but I think it might be that unsweetened cranberry that your sister drinks," I was referring to the middle sister, not my wife. Not that it matters.

"Get me a beer," she said. "Grab yourself one too."

"Ok." They only had crummy American light beer. I'm not a beer snob, I don't have the vocabulary, for one thing. But I know trash. Still, it was something to drink.

"Is it too early for beer, or too late? I'm not sure what taboo we're breaking right now, but it feels subversive," I said, laughing.

She smiled. "Did we wake you?"

Crap, I was hoping we'd moved on from that topic. "No, I'd woken up before. Just happened to pass your room at the wrong time, Sorry."

She laughed. "I thought I saw shadows outside the door. From feet, you know?" She looked up, made eye contact. She has these huge, dark brown eyes. Quite easy to lose oneself in.

I handed her her beer, and she popped the top, looking down before taking a drink. Looking at the can, turning it in her hands, she said, "Seems to me," she looked up at me again with a wry grin, "those shadows were there under the door for quite a while."

Keen to break eye contact in my embarrassment, I too took a moment to study the silver can of mediocre beer. "Um-hmm."

"I was kinda wondering about that. Why were they there for so long, David?" She drank again, her eyes on me, full of some feeling. Mischief, perhaps?

I laughed uncomfortably. I thought about telling some sort of lie to brush the whole thing off. That beer can sure was interesting. Colorado Rockies, huh?

"Not talking, eh? No thoughts to share?" She was staring at me intently. She was smiling, but I didn't really trust her apparent levity. Was she teasing me, or was she upset?

"Do you really want to have this conversation?" I asked, meeting her eyes.

"Yup," she said, again not taking her eyes off of me.

"Ok." I took a deep breath. "It was a deeply erotic experience. I didn't set out to spy on you or anything weird, I just... once I'd heard you I couldn't back away. Sorry."

She grinned, and then took another sip. "I can't really blame you. We shouldn't have been doing it here anyway. But it was so late, I figured we could get away with it, and Martin can be pretty persuasive." She laughed.

We sat quietly for a minute, when she looked back up at me. "So, it was just a bit of voyeuristic temptation huh?"

"Yeah. Sorry to embarrass you."

"So, it's not like the fact that it was me had anything to do with your interest? It could have been anyone?" She was looking at me appraisingly.

"Well, don't forget, Martin was there too," I joked.

"Well that explains it," she said, laughing. "Seriously though, was it hearing me make love that you couldn't resist listening in on?"

"Leaving off for the moment that, well, it would have been pretty awesome to hear regardless of the participants, why are you asking?"

"I just think that you've got feelings for me. It's ok," she rushed to add, "I don't mind. I know that you're in love with my sister. They're just feelings."

"I mean, I'm fond of you, sure. And you're very beautiful--"

"Yes, you've told me. Lots of times. Do you remember that time in Deleware, I was complaining about my hair, and you told me it looked beautiful? There was that awkward glance we shared?"

"Look, I like to build up the people I care about," I tried to explain.

"And I've caught you checking me out plenty of times. You try to be subtle, but it doesn't always work out."

I didn't say anything. I wasn't sure what to say. I guess I just sat there red-faced. It isn't like she didn't have me dead to rights.

"So, were you jerking off outside our door?"

"Jesus, Lauren!"

"Well?"

"Look, let's say you're right about all of this," I said, trying to brings things back to the abstract. "What do you want me to say? To do? I have..." I fell silent.

"You have what?" she asked quietly.

"Alright. I have... looked at you. I didn't mean any disrespect; it just seemed a shame not to. You are lovely, I like looking at you, but I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Okaaay," she said, drawing the word out. "What else do you do?" Making eye contact again, she smiled demurely.

"What?"

"Well," she asked, "you look at me, and you listen at the door while I have sex. What else do you do?"

"What else could I do? I've... I've never done anything to you."

"You really weren't touching yourself while you listened to us fuck?" she asked incredulously. "You don't save up all those stolen glances and jerk off thinking about me?" Her look wasn't hostile or accusing, she was smiling in a teasing sort of way.

I looked at her for a while. I've often wondered what it was like to be a really beautiful woman. I've seen women around, ones that I really desired. And I have jerked off thinking about them. A lot. A couple of times a day, honestly. And well, Lauren was... really hot. Not in that overtly or outrageous way that was more of a turn-off for me. Not because I'm judgmental or anything, I just like things a little wholesome. The fact was, she featured in a lot of my fantasies. Most of them really. If you're a beautiful woman, surely you know that is going on, right?

"I've often wondered what that's like." I said slowly.

"What?"

"Well, you're very beautiful. I'm sure I'm not the only guy you've noticed notice that," I smiled. "And everybody knows that most every guy... entertains themselves."

Lauren laughed.

"So, every good-looking woman must conclude that they are the subject of any number of male fantasies." I looked at her, "What is that like?"

"Answering my question with a question? Do you think I'll let you off that easily?"

"I feel like I pretty much answered your question."

"But you didn't though," she said, looking genuinely annoyed for the first time. "You implied it, sure, but you didn't admit it. Not really."

"You want me to confess it?"

"Yes!"

"Why?"

"Because I want to know!"

She was glaring at me intently. And I decided to go ahead and admit it. She didn't seem to want to harm me with the information, or to really be angry at me, so it wasn't like I couldn't trust her.

"Ok. If you really want to hear it, yes. I have fantasized about you. I have... done so for the specific purpose of..."

When she saw that I wasn't going to finish, she supplied, "Jerking off?"

"Yeah, that."

She laughed and drummed the table, "I knew it!"

"You seem awfully happy about having this unbelievably awkward piece of information in the open between us. Why?"

"Because no one talks about this stuff! But here we are! You got caught," she said with relish, "And, even better, it doesn't matter!"

"It doesn't matter?"

"No! I mean, it's a little embarrassing for us both, I guess. But you love your wife. I love Martin. Neither one of us means any harm, and neither one of us wants to get the other in trouble. So, we can talk about it."

We sat in silence for a moment, looking at each other.

"Well, ok, we've talked about it, I guess I should be getting to bed," I said awkwardly, eager to end this uncomfortable conversation.

"You could, but don't you want to ask me anything?" she asked, smiling winsomely, "You were nice enough to admit that you're attracted to me. You've admitted that you've fantasized about me. There isn't anything you want to say to me? Or ask me about?"

"Look, saying to you that I'm attracted to you isn't really altogether that much of an admission. You're a very... look, there'd have to be something wrong with me not to be interested. But admitting to some prurient interest in... whatever. That's not something I should actually do, is it?"

She slapped her hands on the table. "It sure is! Because I have questions of my own. So, we'll play a little game. I'll answer your question, then you'll answer mine. We'll both make it a point to answer honestly, and if possible, I'm going to try to make it exciting for you, since I know what you're going to do with the information once you're alone," she laughed at my obvious discomfort.

"Look, nobody has to know. And honestly, when are you going to get another chance like this? We trust one another, what is there to lose?"

I chugged the last of the beer. "Fine. I'll admit it. There are things I've often wondered about. I'll ask. But this is a very stupid thing you've got me doing here, so I hope that you know we have to be discrete."

Lauren's First Story.

"So, what do you want to know?" she asked cheerfully. I was sort of surprised to find her so chipper in the middle of the night, but I suppose it was only natural, what with the pleasant interlude she'd just been having.

"I guess I'll start with an easy and obvious one. You've told me that Martin was your first real boyfriend, but that doesn't necessarily mean that he's the first person you've slept with. How did you lose your virginity? Was it with Martin, or someone else, something more casual?"

Lauren laughed, closing her eyes at the memory. "No, it wasn't with Martin." It must have been a happy memory, because she continued to smile, "It's a little embarrassing, actually." She looked at me, grinning, "But it's a good story."

"It was my first year at college. We lived in those dorm buildings on campus, I think you were there once?"

I acknowledged that I vaguely remembered the place, and she continued. "They were a little weird because there was the kitchen common room area on the first floor, and then the rooms were upstairs. Well, my four friends and I all lived in this same dorm, and we tended to take over the common room."

"This was a few months into the second semester, so my friends had all hooked up with their boyfriends of the moment. I was still, as you know, foot loose and fancy free. I wasn't really interested in dating. I knew that I had so many years of school ahead of me, and then residency and whatever. Being Catholic, I wasn't exactly encouraged to seek out casual sex, so that wasn't really something I was thinking about either. But I wasn't really opposed to sex, I just wasn't prioritizing it."

The night this happened, we were all lounging around, we'd been drinking. I was tipsy but not wasted, but my friend Maria had definitely had more than her usual share. The subject of my still being single came up, as it had been more and more often.

"But aren't you horny?" Maria demanded, lying awkwardly with her head in her boyfriend Greg's lap, her legs sprawled over the armrest of the couch. Her skirt was riding up a bit, I remember, so she was showing a lot of leg. That's part of how I knew she was drunk.

"I'm fine," I said tolerantly. They were good friends for the most part, but their growing obsession with my love life was getting pretty old.

"When was the last time you got laid, anyway," Emily asked. She wasn't usually too forward, but I guess curiosity and her own share of the wine and vodka had gotten to her.

"I can't say that I ever have been," I giggled. I was slouched in the armchair that was part of the set that made up the common room décor. Two couches, a love seat, and the armchair all sort of arrayed to make a circle. It was great for party games or just hanging out.

"You're a VIRGIN?!" Maria exclaimed incredulously. "How is that even possible, you're so hot!"

"Thanks, Maria," I said, tipping my solo cup of wine at her. Her eyes were wide and her mouth wide open in shock.

She scrambled upright and leaned toward me, her expression intense. "You can't be a virgin. You're missing out on too much fun!" Here she leered at Greg before continuing. "You're not going to be 18 and hot forever! You've got to enjoy it while you've got it, honey!"

I laughed, even though I was starting to feel uncomfortable. "It's just not something that I've had time for. I don't think I'm going to have time for it, not for a while, anyway."

"How long to you think it takes?" asked Harriet, laughing, who had to tear herself away from making out with her boyfriend to pose the question. Living with her, I'd gotten much more comfortable being around PDAs.

I laughed. "I don't have time to meet some guy, date, and then take him up to my room..."

"You don't have to fall in love and have a perfect relationship just to fuck some guy," Maria helpfully pointed out. "If you're going to be so busy for the next 8 gazillion years, you're going to have to figure out how to pick up guys just for fun."

"Look, I don't have any interest in just screwing some random dude. Let's change the subject," I said, and they all booed.