Sex With My Wifes Sister 1

Every time I have sex with Kate, my sister-in-law, I swear that it is the last time. It's not that I don't love having sex with my wife's sister. It's just that I'm done with cheating on my wife and especially with cheating on her with her sister. It's wrong. It's over. I'm finished. No more, I can't do this. Enough is enough. I'm despicable and I hate myself for what I've done.

I can't continue the affair with all the lying and with keeping all the dirty little secrets, this is crazy. I can't live a double life any more. When we're all together at a family gathering, I'm tired of the furtive glances and the secret whispers. The stressful deception is wearing me out. Kate is wearing me out in the way she wants to have sex all the time. She's insatiable.

Every time I say no to her, she starts fondling the head of my cock with her fingertips through my pants while looking up at me with her big, sad, brown eyes. I can't resist her when she looks at me like that. Then, she kisses me before she unzips me, sticks her hand in my pants, pulls down the front of my underwear and takes me out. I watch her staring at my cock while she strokes it making me erect in her hand before looking up at me again and giving me that sexy look. Then, she lowers her mouth down to my cock and sucks it.

I've never been with a woman who loves sucking cock so much. I've never been with a woman who has given me so many blowjobs. Right there in my car in the mall parking lot, she starts sucking me off while stroking me. In the stairwell of the parking garage, she falls to her knees and begs to blow me. She even follows me in the men's room at the cinema and blows me there. I'm sure there are cameras watching her giving me a blowjob, but she doesn't care and at that point, I don't care either. There's just no way that I can say no to her with my cock buried in her mouth and my hand down her blouse while feeling her magnificent tits.

Whenever I tell her that we must end this torrid affair, she stops blowing me and removes my cock from her mouth for a few seconds. She loves teasing me. She won't allow me to cum in her mouth until I swear that I won't break off our fuck buddy relationship. She'll continue teasing me, stroking my cock, mouthing it, and licking the head of it while looking up at me with those sexy eyes.

"Please, pretty please, don't end our affair. Don't you want to fuck me? Don't you enjoy it when I suck your cock? Don't you love cumming in my mouth? Doesn't it feel good when I blow you?"

My wife doesn't suck cock. She dabbles. In all the years I've known her, I've only cum in her mouth twice and she spit it out both times. Her sister is the complete opposite. Her sister drains me dry and licks me clean.

I can't say no to her, but I must. This is all so wrong. She's family. She's my sister-in-law. She's my wife's baby sister, her only sister. It's not right to do this to my wife, the mother of my children, and I'm sick for having this affair with Kate. It's wrong to split sisters like this apart and ruin their family. It has to stop and I must stay strong enough to stop it. I swear, as soon as she's done blowing me, I'll persevere to maintain my will power enough to stop this once and for all.

"Go ahead and suck it, baby. Suck my big prick, Kate. Let me cum in your mouth," I say to her as I put a gentle hand to the back of her head while my other hand caresses her tit and feels her nipple become erect. "I want to cum in your mouth. I want to watch you swallow all of me."

I'm such a shallow human being. I'm a weak man to allow her to control me in the way she does. I'm such a cad. What is wrong with me? When I think about all those losers who appear on the Jerry Springer Show, I envision myself sitting in one of the chairs onstage as my wife comes out and beats the shit out of me and her sister with her giant handbag she carries with her everywhere.

"Steve, can you give me a little help here? Can you at least take the giant handbag away from her? I think she has a brick in there."

"Steve! Steve! Steve! Steve," screams the audience when Steve walks over to me.

"Hey buddy," he says. "You're getting what you deserve for fucking your wife's sister. Loser!"

Oh, my God, Steve is right. I am a loser to have fucked my wife's sister. How could I have done that? How did this happen? This is so wrong.

Nonetheless my desire to end this affair, I freely admit, it still excites me to think about having sex with my sister-in-law, even though I swear that it will never happen again, never, ever, never. Every time I try to remain strong against her womanly charms, every time I try to remain steadfast against her sexual desires, all it takes for her to break my resistance and for me to want my sister-in-law again is to think about taking her smoking hot body in my arms and kissing her soft, full, red lips.

I love it when she French kisses me. On my secret, personal list of great kissers that I carry around in my head, she is by the far the best kisser. I love it when she wears bright red lipstick. Lipstick on the dipstick, only every time she blows me with that lipstick I always have to remember to wash her lipstick off my cock before my wife sees it.

"Honey, what's that red lipstick mark on your cock?"

"Oh, uhm, that's from me. I was trying to see if I could blow myself and I put some lipstick on my lips to see how far I could get my cock in my mouth so that—"

"Never mind, I don't think I want to know any more about what you do when you are alone with your bad self."

I love reaching down, pulling up her short skirt and cupping her round, firm ass in my hand through her panty while pushing her pussy against my hardening cock, as I kiss and kiss her. It's hotter when there's a guy or a couple of guys watching us. She gets off when I expose her body to strangers. So long as I'm there to protect her, she loves flashing her panty clad ass to men. She's such a slut and I love her for that.

"Stop! Enough! I must stop thinking about her in that way."

Only, Kate is such a great kisser and I can't stop thinking about kissing her. She blanks my mind with her kisses whenever she kisses me. She kisses me the way my wife used to kiss me when we were first dating. I love holding her close, looking deep in her big, brown eyes, feeling her long, lush, mahogany hair against my cheek, and being lost in her fragrant perfume before feeling her soft lips against mine. She makes my knees weak and when I feel her breasts through her blouse and bra...okay, enough, this is making me crazy.

"Fuck, I have an erection just thinking about kissing her, touching her, holding her, and...stop!"

We look good together and are always holding hands when we are walking. When not holding her hand, I love wrapping my arm around her slender waist and resting my forearm where her hip juts out. Every once in a while I'll reach down and feel her ass to make sure that everyone walking behind us knows she's mine.

Whenever we go to the mall, we must drive to one where no one knows us. She looks like a dark haired Lindsay Lohan when she was off drugs and alcohol after rehab and her sister, my wife, looks like a dark haired Britney Spears when she was off her diet and out of shape after having had a baby.

Kate with heels appears elegant and sophisticated. My wife without heels appears dumpy and hippy. She says that heels hurt her back. So what? Walk it off. Take one for the team. I love the look of heels, especially when worn with a short flowing skirt with a thong underneath.

"Oh, my God, enough. Stop! I can't take it anymore. I must stop thinking about Kate."

How can two sisters be so opposite? How can my wife let herself go in such a short time? She used to be hot.

"I have to control myself. I must not have sex with my sister-in-law. I must not have sex with my sister-in-law. I must not have sex with my sister-in-law. It's wrong. Just say no. Yes, that's it; I must learn to just say no...No, no, no, no, NO!"

It starts innocently enough with her kiss. I need to push her away instead of pulling her toward me. This illicit affair must end and it must end now before it's too late and before we are caught.

Only, I can't stop replaying in my mind the way she pushes me back on the bed when we are alone and naked. She's so very ticklish and I can hear her giggling, even now. I love watching her breasts bounce up and down and side to side when she laughs and tries to move away from my tickling fingers. It's such fun to tease her. She's always willing to play.

I love it when she mounts me before talking dirty to me while telling me every wicked thing she's about to do to my willing, naked body. I love feeling her warm wetness on her thighs, just as I love feeling my hard throbbing cock bumping her ass with its anticipated desire for her. God, I love it when she talks dirty to me and she knows all of what to say to push all of my buttons. She's such a slut and I love her for being that when we are together.

My wife isn't a slut. My wife doesn't talk dirty. Moreover, she admonishes me when I try to talk dirty to her. My wife acts more like my mother than she does my wife or my girlfriend. She's always treating me as if she's my mother and I'm her child. I hate it when she treats me like that and when I feel like I'm being treated like that.

"I don't like dirty talk," she says. "It turns me off and gets me out of the mood. Talking dirty makes me feel like a slut and I'm not a slut. I'm no man's whore," she says while looking at me with a face full of scorn and disappointment in me. She makes me feel like a pervert because I want, need, and must have hot sex with my wife.

"Okay, I'm sorry. I won't talk dirty anymore," I say trying to mount her again.

"Sorry, but I'm not in the mood anymore," she says, as she pushes me off her and gets up from bed to go downstairs to make coffee. "You've ruined it for me."

"Fuck!"

I love feeling the warmth from Kate's hot hand when she reaches down and grabs my cock to position it and insert it in her pussy. She's so wet. She's always so wet and it feels so hot and so deliciously tight when she slides my cock inside her pussy, as she slowly sits down on it before humping me. She rides me like she rides the bull in the bar where we meet for drinks after work sometimes. She puts on quite the show before, during, and after riding the bull. She makes the guys wild with desire for her.

She loves wearing a short skirt to ride the bull and she gets off on flashing all those horny cowboys her bikini panties before coming home with me. Sometimes we pretend we don't know one another. I like watching her from afar while she's sitting alone and drinking at the bar. It makes the guys angry when I walk over and immediately pick her up after they've bought her a drink and struck out.

She's so hot. She's so gorgeous. She's so outrageous. I love being with her. Because we have so much fun when we are together, that makes it so much more difficult to end the affair. I can't imagine not being with her anymore, no more kissing, no more sex, and no more blowjobs. I can't imagine not having her in my life as my lover. I can't imagine her just being my sister-in-law, my wife's sister.

I love having sex with my wife's sister so much more than having sex with my wife. Matter of fact, after having a steady diet of having sex my sister-in-law, I dread having sex with my wife. Kate excites me, whereas, Susan, my wife, depresses me. Kate loves to fuck. Susan does it out of obligation, an obligation that she feels less obligated to do the longer we are married. She doesn't even kiss me anymore and when she kisses me, there's no passion, no spark, and no magic behind her kiss. We don't even talk, unless we are talking about the kids or household expenses.

So why stop? Why not continue this wicked affair with Kate? Why, because I can't go on like this. I'm overwhelmed with guilt and remorse immediately after having sex with my sister-in-law. I wish I could leave Susan for Kate, but I can't do that. How could I even begin to imagine doing that? Besides, I'd never see my kids again; Susan would make damn sure of that.

Yeah, it feels unbelievable when my cock is in my sister-in-law's mouth, when my hands are feeling her tits, and when my fingers are playing with her nipples, but this can't continue. It's wrong. I just have to look at my wife to know what a poor excuse of a husband I am to her and just have to look at my kids to know what a bad example of a father I am to them, should they ever discover that I'm having sex with Kate. I'd be embarrassed beyond shame if ever they knew. How did this ever happen for me to stoop so low?

Not to mention, I can only imagine the reaction of my wife finding out about our affair. It would not only destroy her but also end our marriage and ruin the relationship she now enjoys with her sister. They talk and laugh on the phone every night for hours. They are close, which baffles me. Why doesn't it bother Kate to have sex with her brother-in-law, her sister's husband? Why doesn't she feel guilty? Why doesn't she think it wrong to continue this illicit affair?

It's even difficult for me to look at my mother-in-law and father-in-law knowing that I'm having sex with both their daughters. Actually, in truth, I'm only having sex with one of their daughters, as my wife stopped having sex with me with the pregnancy of our second child. I can't remember the last time we made love. I can't remember the last time we fucked like dogs in heat. It's like that every time with Kate, wild and free, with sweaty sex and screaming orgasms. She makes me mad with desire for her.

Certainly, if there is such a thing, she's my perfect sexual match. I even love going down on her and eating her pussy, something I always dreaded doing with my wife. Susan has a bushy pussy, a forest, and there's always has an unpleasant odor, but Kate is smoothly shaved and has no odor at all. Susan's thighs and ass are massive compared to Kate's. I love being positioned between Kate's legs while licking her pussy until she orgasm. I love being able to do that for her knowing that she'll reciprocate by giving me even more pleasure.

Yet, as hard as I try to resist the temptation of having sex with my wife's sister, the feelings of my passionate desire and sexual lust for her starts all over again every time I'm alone with her. I just have to see my sister-in-law to want her. She's so much prettier, younger, and thinner than my wife. She's how Susan used to be and the way Susan used to look like. She's the reincarnation of the woman who I fell in love with when I fell in love with Susan. Now, look at her. She's a mess and Kate is so much better than her sister in every way. She's like a dream. She's my dream woman.

Suddenly, now, to make matters worse, my wife is suddenly farting in front of me. If that's not a sexual turn off, then I don't know what is. Why is she suddenly farting? Is it something she ate? Is she that comfortable with me that she's no longer embarrassed to have me hear her fart? Does she not even care anymore about pretenses? Is it because she doesn't feel that she's sexy anymore and now it's okay to fart? She never farted before and I certainly don't want to smell her smelly farts now. I don't fart in front of her. Next, she won't be taking regular showers or brushing her teeth.

Before, when we were dating and when we were first married, before we had kids, if she had to fart, she'd go in the other room or get up out of bed on the pretense that she forgot to turn off a light or had to pee. Sometimes, I'd hear her fart over the toilet flushing, but I never told her that I knew she went in the bathroom to secretly fart. Meanwhile, as soon as she left the bedroom, I'd discreetly fart under the covers in bed and then flag the covers in the way that Archie Bunker taught his son-in-law, Meathead to do.

Now, she farts all the time and many of them are disgusting smelly, loud ones. She just lets them rip. Next, she'll be squatting down and lifting her leg when she's about to fart, God, she farts just like a guy. The silent but deadly ones are the worse ones and she blames those on the cat, but we both know better. Even the cat leaves the room when she unleashes on of those foul farts.

Kate never farts. That woman is incapable of farting. I can't imagine a big, smelly fart erupting from out of her ass. Yeah, perfect women like her don't fart. I betcha Christie Brinkley or Haley Berry doesn't fart. I know, I know, yeah, right, the shit of beautiful women doesn't smell. If you're a guy reading this, you know what I mean.

She's the one I should have married and not her sister. If I had married her, instead of her older sister, I wouldn't be cheating now. I wouldn't be going through all this guilt, remorse, and harboring the bittersweet feelings of doing something that feels so good but is so wickedly wrong on so many different levels. Then, I wonder if I had married Kate instead of Susan and if Kate had suddenly became fat, ugly, and boring after delivering two babies, if I'd be lusting over her sister and be cheating on her with Susan. The grass always looks greener until you get the woman you thought you wanted and now have to live with your decision and with her. Who knows, maybe, Kate would be the one farting now, had I married her instead.

It doesn't take much for me to give in to my delirious desire to have sex with Kate, again. It could just be the way she looks that day or how she looks at me, the way she smiles, laughs, or what she says or wears that makes me want her again. Three years younger than her sister, she's five years younger than me. At 5'7", she's two inches taller than her sister and, at 130 pounds; she's 30 pounds lighter than Susan. She has firm and shapely C cup tits and her sister has flabby and saggy B cup tits from breast feeding our two kids. She likes having fun and her sister, my wife, prefers staying at home. I'm sick of hearing the same, old mantra from my wife whenever I want to go out and have some fun.

"I'm too tired to go out. I have nothing to wear. Do I look fat in this? Can we afford going out to dinner, a movie, and paying for a babysitter? Instead of spending money, we should be saving money. We should be paying down our credit card debt. We really didn't need to buy that big screen TV you bought last month."

Fuck yeah, you look fat in everything you wear because you are fat, is what I want to say, but don't. She's still trying to squeeze her fat body in clothes that are too small and clothes she wore before delivering two babies. She refuses to buy anything new because then she'd have to confront the reality that she's now a size 12 or a size 14 and no longer a size 6 or a size 8. She ruins my mood before we even leave the house. And you bet your ass we needed to buy that big screen TV. That was as much a necessity as was my Ford F150 truck with all the extra chrome.

"No, that looks nice on you. It doesn't make you look fat, at all, Honey," I tell her while lying through my teeth. I'd say anything just to get her the fuck out of the house, so that we can go out and have some fun. Except for going food shopping or buying clothes for the kids, we haven't been out since the second baby was born and that was more than a year ago.

Hey, seriously, I didn't agree to any of this when I took my marriage vows. No way was this part of the deal. If my wife was a car instead of a woman, I'd sue the manufacturer for false advertising and the car dealership for bait and switch. If she was a television, I'd exchange her for a different make, a sleek and sexy Japanese model instead of a chunky and overweight American one. C'mon, seriously, I haven't changed overnight in the way that she's changed overnight. I'm the same fun loving, lovable, adorable guy that I was when we were first married eight long, miserable years ago. Okay, my beer belly is a wee bit bigger and I don't have as much hair as I did when I was first married, but those are just normal signs of aging. Surely, you can't hold that against me.