Sis-in-Law Pays the PricebyTx Tall Tales©
I don't like my sister-in-law. Never have. She's a manipulative, deceitful, lying little bitch. And not that particularly good-looking, although she does have the biggest tits of any woman I know. Her husband on the other hand, is a nice guy.
What's strange is how they had gotten together in the first place. My wife's brother is a good looking guy. Growing up and throughout college he had his choice of women, using them like Kleenex's. The little known family secret (shared between just a handful of us, during a drunken bachelor party,) was that Chris dated Sheri as part of a fraternity prank. It was a pig party where the guys all invited ugly girls, with prizes for the ugliest. The girls never found out the nature of the party. And Chris, in his infinite wisdom, went back to the trough for more. We were all shocked when they got engaged. Mr. Popular, and the pig-faced, sow of a girl, with an obnoxious twang.
Chris dropped out of the University, in his third year. Sheri had already graduated. They moved back near his family in Virginia, and his parents set him up with all the equipment and space to start his own landscaping business. That lasted less than a year. Sheri hated the east coast, and made things difficult all around. I'd gotten her a job as an administrative assistant where I worked, and she was just a pain in the ass, with a holier-than-thou attitude. She was very heavy, with short blonde hair, and huge tits that preceded her everywhere she went. She dressed nice enough, and even wore reasonable makeup. My wife used to say that you could tell she'd be pretty if she lost weight; I couldn't see it.
Before the year was out, she'd called home and gotten jobs for both Chris and herself, back in Austin. She worked in sales, and he worked on a loading dock, for an office furniture company. It paid well enough for them to buy a nice house in a nicer neighborhood, just one community over from her parents. She got nice bonuses twice a year, but they never had enough money to come visit the rest of the family.
As families go, we stayed in communication less than usual. The first 5 or 6 years, we might see them once a year, if that. Even that infrequent occasion rarely went well. Then we only kept in touch by phone for another 2 years or so.
Things changed though. Chris, starting at the very bottom of the food chain, was climbing the corporate ladder. He was a hard worker, and was developing great relationships with a lot of the guys at the office, including the owner. After 10 years there he was in sales himself, and managing 12 people. Things were going well for him.
Sheri, on the other hand, quit work when she got pregnant with their second son, and they pulled back on the spending, getting by on his salary.
During this period, somehow, during the last few years, she and my wife started talking more, and more, and as improbable as it seems, they were becoming friends. I had moved to Dallas about 4 years after they moved to Round-Rock, north of Austin. We only lived a couple of hours away, but had only once made it to the house they lived in for the last six years. That was a total fiasco, and they'd never even made the effort to visit us in Dallas. I traveled to Austin regularly for business, at least a couple of times a month, and the idea of paying them a visit never entered my mind. Chris and I got along ok, but really had almost no common interests, while my feelings for Sheri, I've already shared. I didn't care if my wife and she were getting along, I really didn't like her. And I'm a pretty easy going guy who can find the good in most people.
Then one day the hammer dropped. The founder of the company decided to retire, and hired a new President. Within 6 months this joker was replacing all the upper-management. Chris had just been promoted a year earlier, and they had been on top of the world. They'd bought a new RV, had a pool put in, replaced the living room furniture, the works. Now he'd been given a pink slip and 11 weeks severance pay, one for each year he worked. He received no benefits.
I exchanged emails with him, and worked at getting his resume put together and polished up. Then I got an email from Sheri asking for the same, so I put aside my irritation, and did the same for her. I worked up a couple of cover letters for them, and they hit the street looking for work. I even called a few clients, to see if anybody was currently looking.
After two months, he had received a couple of job offers, but only at about half of what he'd been earning before, after bonuses and commission. Sheri wasn't even having that much luck, not able to find anything paying much more than $10 an hour. She had been doing some kind of MLM party business out of her home for the last couple of years, and my wife said that Sheri was working really hard to get that going. I wasn't about to hold my breath over that one.
The next time I was headed down to Austin, my wife told me that Sheri and Chris wanted to invite me over for dinner. I was a little surprised. I hadn't seen them for over 4 years. We got regular pictures of the boys, now eight and six years old, I thought it would be nice to see them. It wasn't their fault they had a bitch for a mom. I agreed. I was going to get my work done, stop in for dinner and a visit, spend the night, and drive the three hours back home early the next morning.
I arrived late, after a long day of business, with a bottle of wine in hand. Jason, the oldest met me at the door, and brought me into the house. "Momma's in the kitchen," he told me, which was a surprise. She could never cook a lick. I remember being invited over for dinner almost 10 years earlier, and she had make spaghetti and meatballs. She put the raw meatballs in the sauce, thinking they would cook. What a disaster.
I let Jason lead the way. "I brought some wine for dinner," I announced. They were big wine drinkers, always had been. They always kept a box in the refrigerator. I hoped they could deal with wine that came in a bottle, and didn't have a screw-off cap.
Sheri turned away from closing the oven, and stood and gave me a smile, walking up to take the bottle and give me hug. I had to admit, she looked 100% better. Her hair was no longer the fake yellow blonde, but a natural light brown hair with red highlights, a little longer than shoulder length. She wasn't skinny, but she was no longer the cow she'd been, with a proportional figure, narrow waist, and pretty good legs from what I could see. She still had big tits, but at least they didn't look like bowling balls glued to her chest.
She gave me one of those artificial hugs and kisses on the cheek, that you save for wedding and family reunions. Then she said, "You look nice," and gave me a second hug, a little warmer. Alarms went off in my head.
"You too," I told her, not wanting to blurt out that she looked the best she ever had. It's amazing what losing 70 or 80 pounds could do for a body. "Where's Chris?" I asked.
She pouted a bit. "He got an interview in Houston tomorrow, and drove down tonight so he wouldn't be late. It was a last minute thing, and he didn't want to take any chances. He's staying with Jerry," Jerry was her youngest brother. She reached up high for a serving dish, and I hate to say it, but I scoped her out. She really cleaned up nice. She was wearing pretty tight shorts, and a t-shirt. The shorts looked good on her. She may have lost weight, but she still had the curves to fill the shorts, and her shirt. If she wasn't such a despicable person, she'd have been totally fuckable.
'Shit' I thought. I wondered how long I'd have to stay to be sociable.
I needn't have worried. I spent a few minutes with the boys, and then Sheri had the dinner on the table. It was lasagna, and surprisingly good. She asked if we could save the wine for another time, and we just had a beer with dinner, she drank an Amstel light. We got caught up on the kid's lives mostly, and I was surprised that I actually had an almost decent time. Still, I was glad when the obligation was over.
"That was nice." I told her, honestly. "Thanks for having me over, but I think I should head out soon."
She looked surprised. "But you were going to spend the night."
"Yeah, but I'm not sure how appropriate that is, and if I leave soon, I can get back home before it's too late." I told her, thinking how sad it was that I'd rather face a 3 hour drive, at night, after drinking, then spend any time with her.
"Can you hold on just a minute? I've got coffee brewing. We can at least wash a little of the beer out of your system. Let me put the boys down, and I'll be right back."
It took more than a minute. More like twenty. I finished cleaning up in the kitchen while I waited for her, and was just wiping down the counters when she showed up again, looking a bit more frazzled than when I arrived.
"Oh, no, Steve, you don't have to do that," she said, sounding almost upset.
"No problem," I told her. "Least I could do after you made such a nice dinner. You've gotten a lot better at cooking, nothing like the last meal I had that you cooked."
She had the decency to blush. "It's the mom thing, you know. Had to put something on the table. Couldn't live off of carryout and TV dinners all the time." She was busying herself putting together a coffee tray with some homemade cookies. At her request I followed her into the living room, and took a seat on the couch, by the cookies.
Sheri perched herself next to me, brushed her hair back and gave a big sigh. "Chris usually puts them to bed; I've got the wake up duty," she said, taking a sip from her black coffee. That was a change as well. She used to drink those coffee drinks that were more like dessert.
"I know," I commiserated. "I've got the bedtime job at home."
Sheri put her coffee down, and took a visibly deep breath. Then she turned to me, her body facing me. "Steve, we need some help."
So that was the catch. I had been half-expecting something like this, but thought that Chris would be man enough to ask on his own.
She leaned forward and put her hand on my arm. It was almost like she could read my mind. "Chris doesn't know I'm asking, please don't tell him. I'm hoping we can keep this to ourselves," she said.
"What kind of help are we talking about?" I asked.
"We can't make the mortgage next month. We've already returned the RV, and lost a lot of money on that. I wish we could return the pool. Our bank account is almost dry, we borrowed against our 401K to put in the pool and fix up the house, I'm working for $9.75 an hour for benefits, and Chris's job search is not looking good. If he took the only job he's been offered, we'd have to sell everything and move into a smaller house. We'd probably go bankrupt." She blurted it all out in a hurry, not even willing to look at me as she said it.
"Sheri, I don't understand. Chris was the only guy I know who actually did keep 6 months expenses in the bank. I know you got a severance package. It's only been 2 months - how'd this happen?" I asked.
Suddenly she was crying, but I didn't trust those crocodile tears for a second. "It was just a bunch of things. One was Quixtar. I was doing great, I was selling lots of stuff, and was making almost a hundred dollars a month. I had a couple of great months, and I could go Silver, I was making more than $300. Then it looked like I was going to lose it, so of course I bought some product and stockpiled it, so I could sell it later."
She caught her breath, wiped away some of the tears and continued. "My upline was helping a lot, and I was going to meetings, helping others buying and selling the sales material, buying more stuff if it looked like I wasn't going to hit my numbers. I was a big success in the group, making $500 a month and more. I even got a $2500 bonus. I don't know how it happened, but I spent over twelve thousand on it in the last two years."
"Twelve thousand?" I asked, incredulous.
"Well, I was getting a lot of the money back, but I was stupid. Instead of putting it back in the bank, we just spent it, like it was money we'd earned. I didn't even realize what we were doing until Chris lost his job and I went over our accounts." She admitted. "When he was fired, we only had $4000 in the bank. Two years ago, before he got his big promotion, and before we did all the upgrades around here, paid off our credit cards, and all that, we had over $30,000 saved."
"So what did Chris say about all this." I asked her, afraid to hear it.
"He doesn't know yet," she said softly. "I thought he'd get a job, and I could use some of the Quixtar money to start rebuilding the bank account, but now he's expecting me to bring in $500 a month with this stuff, and most months it costs me anywhere from two hundred to eight hundred dollars to make my numbers."
"This isn't good, Sheri," I told her, shaking my head.
"Don't you think I know that!" She snapped, showing a little of the bitch I knew so well. Then she calmed. "After I pay the bills next week, we'll have $400 in the bank. We get around another $700 every couple of weeks for unemployment. I won't be able to make the car-payments and electric bill, never mind the mortgage or groceries."
"What about your family?" I asked.
"Mom and Dad are on their pension, and don't have a pot to piss in," she laughed, "34 years with the same company, and Dad can't even golf anymore, can't even afford the cart fee, unless we pick it up. You know my brothers don't make any money, hell we've been loaning them money for the last 10 years."
"Then it's time to get it back," I told her.
"Trying to squeeze blood from a rock." She leaned in closer. "I know we haven't always gotten along, but we're family. We really are in bad shape. The boys don't know the half of it. We're going to have to lose the club membership, they won't be able to golf with their dad anymore. I'm going to have to pull them out of their Tae Kwon Do classes soon."
She closed her eyes, sniffling. "I'm trying Steve. I'm working like a dog. I work 8 hours a day to take home $200 bucks a week, just so we can have benefits. I'm living on the phone, working my downline, trying to get business going, recruiting new people. And I'm still trying to keep this house sane." She opened her eyes, wet with tears and looked at me with what might be genuine desperation.
She sighed again. "I don't want to beg. Please. I know you can help us, if anyone in the family can."
"I don't think so, Sheri." I told her, looking at her crestfallen look. "As long as you're working at that MLM stuff, it's throwing good money after bad. You must know that 99% of the people lose money in the long run. You're just treading water and helping those above you lose less money each month. And your expenses must be huge. You'd be better of just going bankrupt, and taking your lumps."
"God no! Chris would kill me. We're having enough problems. If he found out I'd spent most of our nest-egg I don't think we'd survive it."
Then it happened. She went to the hard-sell. She scooted forward, slid her arm behind my neck, and leaned her head on my shoulder. "Please, Steve? If we just had $10,000 dollars, I think we could make it through the next few months until Chris had a good job. We could probably start paying you back in 6 months." Her free hand slid down to rest on my thigh.
I needed to get away from her. I could smell her and it was exciting. I was disgusted with myself. I'd actually started to get an erection from this deceptive little bitch rubbing my thigh.
"Sheri," I told her, slipping away from her, and turning to face her. "I'm going to have to think about it. If I were to help you, I'd ask you to make some changes. Big changes. I still think I'd just be throwing the money away."
"I understand," she said softly, "just please think about it. Don't make the boys suffer because of some mistakes of mine and Chris's."
I thought to myself the only mistake Chris made was marrying the bitch, and not keeping an eagle eye on the books.
It had started raining outside, and when I went to the door, I really wasn't looking forward to the three hour drive ahead of me, in that soup.
Sheri stood behind me. "Why don't you stay? The guest room is already made up, you know where it is. You can leave in the morning. We can leave the money issue alone for now, I won't bother you about it."
I reluctantly let myself get talked into it. I borrowed an umbrella and went out to the car to get my overnight bag. Twenty minutes later I was ensconced in the guest room over the garage, and done with my evening ritual, laying in bed.
I was thinking about the situation. I could afford it. I wouldn't like to, but the money wasn't the object. The Quixtar situation was like an open vein, draining them dry. The lifestyle they were living was relatively new and just as bad. Their car payments were probably over a grand a month. Thank God they'd had the sense to get rid of the RV.
I was only a little surprised to see the door open. Sheri was framed in the doorway for just a moment, wearing nightwear made more for undressing than sleeping. She had a blanket in her hand, and as she walked towards the bed, the door quietly swung closed behind her.
"I thought you might get a little cold," she said softly, her southern drawl exaggerated.
The room was dark. I leaned over and touched the base of the bedside lamp, which turned it on at the lowest setting.
Sheri looked damn good. The outfit she was wearing was 10% material, and 90% see through. Her breasts pushed the material far away from her body, and her nipples poked through the material, promising wonders to the person who would set them free. The shorts were just as diaphanous, with a small dark patch at the top of her crotch advertising her nakedness beneath the lace. Her stomach was exposed between the top and bottom, and even if she didn't have a six pack, she had gentle curves that made me want to run my hands across her skin.
The scheming bitch.
She put the blanket at the foot of the bed, and sat down on the edge near me.
"How are you at blowjobs?" I asked her.
She acted almost like I'd slapped her. She jerked back, almost falling off the bed. "Excuse me?" she asked.
"Blowjobs. You know, your mouth, my cock." I reminded her, pulling back the sheets and showing her that her outfit was having the desired effect.
She stood up, shaking. "I'm sorry, this was a mistake," she said turning to head back out.
I reached out and grabbed the top of her panties/shorts and pulled her back to the bed. "Mistake my ass. Sit down."
She looked like she was going to say something, then she acquiesced, sitting more carefully this time.
I reached into her top from below and squeezed the nearest tit, cupping it, tweaking her nipple between my fingers. "There's no denying it. You do have pretty incredible tits."
She blushed, and tried to brush my hand away. I just held her breast tighter and watched her bite her lower lip when I squeezed her nipple more.
"As long as you're in here, dressed for play, I really could use a blowjob. I always thought you must be pretty good at that. There had to be something you used to lure Chris into your web."
The look of uncertainty hardened into one of anger at the insult. She worked up enough courage to push my hand away. "I am good. Too bad you'll never know."
I laughed. "Never is a really long time. In this case, I'm guessing less than 60 seconds, unless you're really bent on destroying any chance of my bailing you out of your predicament."
She took a deep breath and tried reason. "Steve, I just came in here to make sure you were ok. I'm married. You're married. My kids are only a couple of rooms away."