Indecent Temptations Pt 01

"It's not that I don't trust you," she said quietly. "You know that right... It isn't you." She was a little drunk, the words slurred together at times.

Dinner had gone well. During football season their Friday nights were spent under the lights at the local high school but as summer approached their older son was off to spend the night with friends, their daughter, only 10, was off to his mothers. Christina had made a salad and a sort of vegetable casserole. He had grilled small steaks and large slabs of salmon. They drank wine, Charles, Christina and her sister Tammi. They talked about nothing in particular, drank, ate, and it was only when it got late that things became tense.

Charles had been wary. The two women were sisters, shared everything and were very close. They were also bitter rivals, mistrusted one another and only saw each other once a year or so. When she had decided to turn in Tina had suggested Tammi get a cab. Tammi said she thought she would just crash there. She hadn't even checked into the hotel yet.

Tina had watched her husband react to the tension. He could never understand. The look on his face was sympathetic. Why the hell didn't she just stay at the house, they had room, but he also recognized his wife's determination and wisely kept his mouth shut.

Eventually, tired, drunk, and a bit worked up Tina relented, showed Tammi to the guest room and pulled Chuck into bed. They had drunken sex. She liked drunken sex. He tried things he wouldn't when he was sober. She let him do things she wouldn't when she was sober. Tonight it had been licking her while he pressed two fingers in the front door and one in the back. It had left her with a sort of overwhelmed afterglow.

"You know I trust you, right?" she repeated again. Once, and he would have believed her but now that she said it for the third, maybe fourth time, he was suspicious.

"You don't have to worry," he said.

"You don't know her," Tina said quietly. "Don't get me wrong. I love her, I just... I know her. She wouldn't do it to me mean... She would never, like, set out to hurt me. She just doesn't think."

"Well, I think. I think you are worried about something that just won't happen."

"Uh huh."

"First. she's your sister. That makes her my sister. It would just be... icky."

"Uh huh."

"Second. It wouldn't matter if she was your sister. If she was a stranger. If she was a bikini model. I wouldn't do that to you."

"UH huh."

"Third..."

"Third?"

"Third... She isn't my type."

"Bullshit," Tina said.

"True."

"She is every man's type." Tina had a life long insecurity when it came to her little sister. The woman wasn't just the smart sister, she was the hot sister. At 33, she was more beautiful than ever. She had perfect breasts, a trim waist, a flat belly, and long thin legs. Hell, if she wasn't her sister, Tina would want to fuck her. "Do you have water?" Tina asked.

"No."

"You always have water."

"I'll get one."

"No."

"Honey,"

"Yeah."

"Relax."

Tina watched her husband roll out of bed. "Put on pants," she said. he groaned audibly, pulled on his jeans, and headed for the kitchen. His wife was crazy but it was okay. He sort of liked it.

He moved as silently as he could past the closed guest bedroom door and down the stairs. See, he thought to himself. Buzzed, he struggled a little at the landing, turning wide and brushing the wall. He used the banister the rest of the way. In the kitchen, he fetched two bottles of water, downed one, and then replaced it.

What was that sound?

It was a buzzing. A dull sort of buzzing, muted but real. It was steady but seemed to come and go as if moving near and then backing away. He looked into the garage - nothing. He checked the kitchen - nothing. It was... it was upstairs. The Airconditioner maybe? He took the water bottles and headed back to bed.

The buzzing grew louder as he climbed the stairs.

At the landing, he saw the dull glow from the open door and the small lamp on the table. He knew the glow. It was the reading lamp. It didn't happen often. A fight, a disagreement, or a particularly rough period would send Tina to the guest bedroom where she would read all night, the small lamp the indication he was in trouble and an apology was in order.

Except Tina wasn't in there, Tammi was. And Tammi was asleep, wasn't she? The door had been closed when he went downstairs.

He crested the stairs, paused, freezing like a statue, and listened. The buzzing, a small electric motor, maybe a razor, was coming from the room. The door was open only a few inches, the light was on.

He stepped only barely to his right.

What was he looking at? It was familiar but unclear. He didn't have his glasses. He shouldn't do it but he did. He stepped forward.

Yup. Yup, that's what it was.

His wife had a point. Her sister's ass was perfect. Through the partially open door, Charlie could also see that it was buck naked, slightly raised. Long legs extended down the bed. The woman had her face pressed into one of the many pillows on the wrought iron bed, her legs parted, and her hands pressed beneath her raised hips.

He watched the source of the sound. It was smallish, pink, and slipped along moist, perfectly hairless lips. It plunged inside the soft pink folds and then re-emerged to be pressed against the point, just out of view, where her pussy came together and her clitty lived tucked away until needed.

His brain screamed inside his head, begging him to move on, to run away, to flee for the safety of his bed.

His brain, however, was ignored as drunkenness and testosterone fixed him in place against the door jam.

He watched, listened to the heavy breathing, swelled hard inside his jeans, and waited.

She moaned a little.

That ass. Jesus, what an ass.

His cock ached.

Small gentle moans grew louder. The ass flexed. Thin fingers with long pink nails pressed it up inside, and her hips rocked, just once or twice.

And then it all stopped.

"Ahhhhh," the woman whispered. The movement, the buzzing, and the heavy breathing all came to an end.

Run! he thought. He took a breath consciously focussing on keeping it silent and rocked back to balancing on his own two feet without the use of the wall. He stepped backward gently, desperate that the floor not creek and that his forty-year-old joints not pop.

He was lucky, it all went as planned. He was steps away from his door and the safety it promised.

If only she wasn't smiling at him.

She was. it was unmistakable even in the dim yellow light. Her crystal blue eyes looked at him, her mouth was open only enough to curl gently in the corners. It was a smile. It was undeniable.

It was three steps and he was in the bedroom.

"There you are," Tina said. She smiled as well. It was funny, it was the same smile. It was a little older, a little softer. There was less deviance in it but it was the same. The eyes were identical. The naked body laid out on the bed was the same too, a little shorter, a little broader, the Volkswagen model built for family utility but still on the same frame as the high-performance Audi.

"Water?"

"Thank you!"

He stared, standing at the foot of the bed.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Whaat..."

"Mmmmm," he growled.

She grinned broadly. She spread her legs a little and then, playing along, traced a line down her body, over her breast, leaving a thin line from the condensation on the cold bottle of water.

"Mmmm?" she purred.

"Mmmm," he explained.

He undid his jeans, tugged them off his hips, and freed his cock.

"Mmmm!" she said admiringly. She bent her knees, beckoning him.

"Mmm," he grunted.

"Mmmm?" she asked.

He moved up the bed on his knees to her ankles where he pulled and twisted and shifted her until she understood what he wanted.

"Mmmmm!" she stated emphatically positioned on her belly. She lifted her ass.

He moved inside of her. She was warm, wet, and welcoming. He felt the residual left from round one. He slipped easily in and out of her. He looked down, watching her, both remembering the view from the hallway and struggling not to think of it.

She grunted gently with each thrust, her ass quaked with each slap of his hips. Hungrily he picked up his pace. Angrily he fought off the source of his interest, the inspiration that had swelled his dick in his pants. He gripped her hips, fucked his wife, and growled.

He didn't mean to look up. Why would he have looked up? Why would he have looked at the mirror? It was awkward really, somewhat behind him he had to crane his neck to look over his shoulder. He didn't mean to do it, why would he? He did it though. And when he did, he didn't look away.

The door to the master bedroom was open, not just a crack, wide open, and the opening framed her perfectly, tall, perfect, posed like a model, backlit by the lamp from the bedroom she appeared the silhouette of a goddess.

"Go, yes," his wife muttered softly.

That was all he needed. He growled as the orgasm exploded his aching cock, his prostate strained to let it through, his ass cramped at the force of it.

He slapped the broad ass in front of him, pushed the last of his load into his wife and growled at the relief of his climax, collapsing back onto his side of his bed.

The doorway was empty, the door pressed just short of closed, only a sliver of light entering from the hall.

"Good?" Tina asked.

"Mmmm." he moaned in reply.

"I'm going to sleep now."

"I will try to let you," he whispered.

"If you have to go for round three just try not to wake me," she teased.

No. Don't think it. Do not... shit. Too late.

In the silence of the night, he heard the click from the other room and the hallway went dark.