Raymond Travis - The seductive sister-in-law

"Oh, stop it, Bob, not out here," she heard Shirley's voice ring out from the backyard. "Don't touch me like that! It drives me crazy."

She rose from the table again, this time not merely irritated with Bob and Shirley, but plainly angry. She could hear the faint creak of lounge chairs as their bodies must have been shifting onto one another. The sound came floating through the thick shrubbery and echoed with astounding clarity in the kitchen. What was he doing to her that she should make such an obviously half-hearted protest?

"Oh, not again, ooooh, that tickles," she heard Shirley's voice cry out, deep panting groans accompanying her low guttural cries of pleasure. "Don't be such an anxious boy… Oh, oh, no, not again!"

Betty stood up at the window and pulled open the blinds. The oblong light from the kitchen shone out across a line of low trimmed bushes backing the patio and reflected off the coffee table in front of the couple. She could see Shirley seated on Bob's lap and in the half-darkness it looked as though the girl had her bikini top pulled partially down. Yes, there was no doubt about the fact that two white melon shaped mounds of her breasts were exposed, and she could see Bob's hands running across them, his fingers circling the wide pink aureoles and the stiffly pointing nipples. She pulled away from the window and her shadow cut across the rectangle of light. They were still now. They certainly had seen her and would stop this disgusting exhibition.

"Ohhhhh, God, Bob," the low groan of pleasure coming from a soft feminine voice continued louder than ever, interrupted by a scraping of the lounge chair against the stones of the patio. "There you go again. Oh, now stop it! We can't do anything about it 'til after dinner!"

And then the girl broke out into a peal of teasing laughter that sent shivers of repulsion at their brazen actions and, strangely enough, quivers of sympathetic pleasure racing through Betty's abdomen and into the soft-downed "V" of her vaginal area. She thought for a moment about how Shirley had spoken of the way she satisfied herself when she got into a state similar to the one Betty was in now. But her anger at the couple for making such a demonstration of themselves squelched any desire to indulge herself in such a way – her guilt would be too great. God, even now she felt ashamed of herself for getting excited over the young couple's love-play. She heard the clink of glasses and the splash of liquor being carelessly poured; then Bob's voice rang out: "Betty, baby, we need a real woman to liven things up. Shirley here doesn't want to put out for me!"

"That's your problem," Betty called out gaily through the back windows but inside she was shuddering. Thank God it was too dark now for the neighbors to see anything, and she doubted if the voice would carry that far.

She pulled down the blinds, shut off the kitchen light and went into the living room. Her uneasiness with the young in-laws had returned, and her fear of them gave her a strength in resisting their overly-familiar teasing of her that she didn't have before. She flicked on the lamp next to the couch and sat down. At least, she had the benefits of Kent's job which brought in a considerable sum of money, and even though she knew she was being a bit selfish, she felt a sense of pride in the belongings they had acquired through the last few years. The stereo-color TV ensemble facing her from the dark walnut paneling across the room testified to this, as did the gaily-designed Persian rug, and precious Steuben glass ornaments that adorned their imposing mantle-piece. Some of these things were symbols of their prosperity, such as the swimming pool and the collection of paintings they were beginning to collect – she especially like some of the modern ones – and yet they were comforts, not really to be thought of as luxuries when you came down to it.

She finished off the drink she had brought with her from the kitchen and set it down carefully on a coaster on an end table. The tension of the afternoon and evening had made her tired, and she decided to go to bed before Shirley and Bob came in. She walked to the vestibule and locked the front door, then walked through the family-room porch off the living room, glancing up at Bob and Shirley still outside.

"I'm locking this door, but you can come in through the kitchen," she announced.

"Kent must be some kind of nut to leave such a gorgeous creature as you alone these sexy summer nights," Bob sighed at her lit-up figure, and Betty thought she could see him shaking his head dramatically.

"Well, he has lots of work to do," Betty mumbled back dispiritedly behind the door. "Otherwise, he'd certainly be here for your first day with us… I'm locking the door."

"Good, and before you do that you come out and skinny dip with us," Bob teased across the lawn.

"Yeah, c'mon, Betty," Shirley cut in giggling. "Let's give him a thrill."

"I don't want to get my hair wet," Betty heard her voice croak back inanely.

Bob persisted. "Look you get too lonesome tonight, Betty, just knock on the guest room and climb in bed with us, right, Shirley?"

"Okay… why not?" Shirley laughed.

Betty managed to laugh too, but quickly locked the door and hurried back to the living room. She shut the door of her bedroom just as the sounds of Shirley and Bob entering the kitchen disturbed the peaceful silence of the house. Bob was laughing and Shirley's high feminine squeal of delight seemed to follow him. They must be at the liquor cabinet now, Betty thought with sudden contempt. Well, let them drink; what she needed was a good night's sleep.

She undressed in the pale, amber light from the nightstand lamp and stood looking at herself briefly in the full-length mirror on the closet door, feeling an unguarded pride in her perfectly formed body as seen in the diffused glow. Sometimes she felt so old inside, yet the proof of her voluptuous youth could be seen in the fresh bloom of her firmly rounding breasts with their lush pink aureoles and in the subtle curve of her hour-glass waist that flowed as in an artist's careful line down to the taut girlish curve of her full swelling thighs. She put on the long white nightgown that she wore only seldom – strangely, on occasions like this when she was feeling lonely without Kent – and then switched off the lamp and slid beneath the covers of the huge, king-sized bed.

She lay there for awhile, her eyes open and staring at the ceiling, thinking of Bob and of what she had witnessed between Shirley and him, the brazen little bitch, that afternoon. Bitch. The word almost hung on her lips, and she wondered why she was venting her anger at Shirley alone. Was she jealous of her brother-in-law's wife? No, she was sincerely angry, she thought, for what the young woman had provoked him into doing. Yet, when her conscience relaxed she found herself thinking of her husband's younger brother, trying to remember how he looked in those tight fitting bathing trunks – the way he had bent over the girl and how his buttocks stretched the skin-close cotton material. Oddly, Betty found herself trying to picture Bob making love, trying to see in her mind's eyes his erect cock throbbing with desire and his handsome face contorted in passion. But then waves of shame washed over her and she thought, Oh God, I mustn't even think such wicked things, not about Bob, not about my own husband's brother!

She lay back, making a conscious effort of will to force her mind into a blank. Silence again. Whatever had been happening in the kitchen had taken a quiet turn and she felt grateful for this. But as she drifted off random thoughts flickered through her consciousness; thoughts that in her waking hours would never have come to her, yet now sent a warm sensual feeling through her entire being… his cock, she thought… I wonder what it's like… what it feels like… I've never had one inside me except Kent's… and Kent too has a lovely cock… and then she felt herself falling off to sleep, a warm lethargy enveloping her, her body relaxed as she opened to drowsiness.