Raymond Travis - The seductive sister-in-law

"Ooooo," she moaned, increasing her pelvic jerks and gripping his stiffened fleshy rod in her hand. "I never thought it could feel good this way."

Kent looked up at the mirror that reflected the obscene position in which she was embracing him: she had hooked her legs around his waist like a rodeo rider and had begun a steady sensuous rocking, while she continued massaging and jerking at his blood-gorged cock and fondling the velvety sac of his balls in her hands. The merging of lewdly ensnarling bodies in the mirror and the softly tingling feeling of her breasts crushed against his back while her rapidly pumping hand increased its milking clasp over the shaft of his cock, sent a shudder of pleasure rippling through his tensed body. He had to get that cock of his into her mouth and it better be quick! He wanted to see her sucking at it, wanted to watch it slipping into her full sensuous lips as he had seen the woman in the living room devouring that other man's rod… only he would reserve his hot spurts of cum for the warm silky confines of her tight sweet cunt. He shifted his weight, feeling her body tense momentarily. Her tongue traced a teasing path down his neck, and he drew his head forward and slung his body lengthwise on the bed, tumbling her onto the mattress beside him.

"The light, put out the light," Shirley cried out between lusty gasps for breath. "If I'm going to suck you off right, tonight, I feel like doing it in complete darkness."

Kent reached up and switched off the overhead lamp. Leaning back on the bed, he felt her mouth begin its hot licking trail down his belly until her lips lit gently on the hard rubbery head of his cock. Slowly, she began to suck and draw on the rigidly stiffening instrument, and Kent Howard was again in his ecstasy…

Betty Howard stood up from the love seat nestled in the corner of Jake Roberts' living room, searching through the crowd for her husband who had disappeared just after the two men and the woman had come to orgasm. The lewd spectacle had, in spite of her resolve to stay cool, worked her into a frenzied pitch of excitement and the mixture of hashish and Pernod had contributed to her generally dazed state of confusion. She had even let Bob's hands stroke her pussy and she had fondled and pulled on his hardened penis until they were both in a state of dangerous arousal. It had been all she could do keeping him from stripping her right there and forcing his ready cock into her moistly churning pussy, but she had retained a last vestige of will and conscience that had prohibited her from succumbing completely. Now it was a matter of finding Kent and having her revenge. There were several ways she imagined she might get back at him, but the only method that would have any effect, she thought as Bob guided her across the room into the hallway between the two apartments, would be giving him a taste of his own medicine, right in front of him. She had been avoiding this possibility as much as she could, but at this point it seemed to be the only choice she could make.

"I think I know where they are," Bob said, leaning across the empty bar in the hallway and filling two glasses with Pernod. "Most likely in one of Jake's back bedrooms. We'll wait a few minutes until they start loving it up and then your idea is as good as mine what we should do."

Betty smiled. "I detect a twinkle in your eye, Bob. I suggest we join my husband and your wife. I'm sure they'd be glad to see us."

Bob looked flustered for a moment. Then he said slyly: "Well, to tell the truth, I've never been in a situation like this. I mean orgies and that kind of stuff, yes. But doing it in the same room with your brother who's screwing your wife…"

Betty's eyes glazed over and with a womanly aggressiveness that she had never thought possible in her before, she took in the entire length of his strong masculine body. "That makes it practically incest, doesn't it, Bob?"

Bob gulped. "Well, it actually does."

Betty could see that he hadn't bargained for this peculiar turn in the evening's activities. A few stragglers remained in the hallway and lingered dancing in the Howard's and Roberts' living room, but now the two in-laws were pretty much alone. She could tell that Bob had planned on fucking her again after she had witnessed Kent running off with his wife, but he had obviously not foreseen her suggestion of the two couples making it a foursome. She had changed the pattern by introducing a special lewd twist of her own invention and in a strange way she felt almost proud of herself. For God's sake, she thought to herself, she had been used as part of Bob and Shirley's neat little wife-swapping routine and had been treated as though she were a permanent female fixture that worked as housemaid and kitchen appliance by her husband long enough! She turned away from Bob and sipped on her drink silently. It became clear to her now that Bob had known that Shirley was going to seduce Kent that Saturday afternoon; naive as she was, it was stupid of her not to have realized it herself, but again she resolved that she would make up for her former gullibility and she would do it up good tonight.

"We've given them enough time," she said, setting her drink on the top of the bar. "But you must promise me something. When we go into the bedroom, I want to make sure they don't see us until we… well, before we start doing something really lewd."

Bob smiled quizzically, running his hand through his silvery blonde hair. "Lord, when you get fired up there's nothing stopping you. Are you sure you want to go through with this? Can you imagine what's going to go through his head when he sees us doing it right on the bed beside him?"

Betty slid her arm inside his. She leaned over and kissed him gently on the neck, and smiled up at him. "Now that, Mr. Howard," she said with a scolding tone in her voice, "is something you should have considered before you and Shirley worked out your little arrangement."

Betty and Bob reentered the Roberts' living room, passing through a group of people standing in its center.

"Hey, Betty, Betty Howard," a voice called out from the far side of the room. "I recognized you by your… hehehe… pretty little figure. I hoped I'd be seeing you here, being that your sweet sister-in-law was giving the party."

Betty winced and felt her face flush over with shame and humiliation as Dan Clark, her next door neighbor, rushed up and embraced her with greater intimacy than their rather brisk neighborly relationship demanded. A rush of anger choked up in her throat as she realized Shirley must have invited him out of spite.

"Say, Bob, I don't mean to spirit away this lovely little peach blossom from ya, but I've really got to talk to my favorite neighbor. Only be a second," he said breezily, pulling Betty by the arm toward the hallway.

"Look, honey," the short greying man said, thrusting his hands assertively into his pockets. "I hate to bring this up, but I'm sure the Community Beautification Project wouldn't approve… It's not really my affair, but the face of the block would suffer if I let it out. Your husband has been playing hanky-panky right in broad daylight on your side lawn with a certain relative of yours."

Betty looked coldly at Dan Clark. "You mean you'd like to fuck me after the others are done with me, is that what you're saying, Dan?"

The man choked, taken aback by her boldness. "I-I, well you really don't have to put it so bluntly. It is a matter of community concern."

"As you can see, I'm occupied tonight. You call me on Tuesday afternoon while Kent's at work and I'm sure we can take care of your needs and those of the rest of the neighborhood too," she remarked seductively and turned toward Bob again, leaving her neighbor sputtering weakly in the hallway.

God, what was coming over her! Betty felt a sudden audaciousness that she had sensed surfacing only slightly a few hours before. She was not the same woman of a month ago; she had changed, and it wasn't a matter of being for the better or worse. Her transformation was a matter of personal defense, she thought to herself. She recalled Dan Clark standing behind the hedges with clippers in hand two weeks ago, and her eyes flooded with tears of rage. The man was really insignificant as far as his threats were concerned, but her brief encounter with him had been symbolic of the slow dissolution of her former sense of "respectability". Not only had her faith in herself crumbled, but her belief that the staid facade of the rest of her suburban world was a mirror of an inner peace and virtuousness was being rapidly swept away.