No portion of this story has used AI in the process of writing
AA on the other hand....
My sister in law, Shelly, cornered me in the hallway of her home within fifteen minutes of our arrival for Christmas dinner.
This didn't look good.
This visit was a rare visit to the other half of my wife's family, the half that we didn't get along with no matter how much effort we put into it. Shelly was the family bitch.
I was convinced for a time that because unlike the rest of the family, I didn't have a college diploma, I was self taught and didn't see the need, as a possible fiction writer, to waste four years in school to write a book.
Shelly was the oldest of four siblings, my wife jane being the youngest. I married Jane because out of all of them, she was the friendliest and was emotionally genuine.
Shelly worked at the main office of the cities convent, putting out news letters, bulletins and took care of any correspondence for the convent. She was also a writer and had managed to publish several short stories, some of which got decent reviews. Over the course of her career, some of the pious attitude that seemed to flourish within the sanctity of the Convent of Saint Mary's seeded to have found a home within her thinking as well.
Not that I'm against religion but I label myself a skeptic at best. I think in black and white and require proof before throwing my hat fully into that ring.
Ever since I had been in this family, Shelly has been the one wall I couldn't break through in terms of friendliness or just simple conversation. The last time we had a conversation was almost ten year before.
Her only saving grace as far as I was concerned was that she had a fantastic body. There were nights I couldn't stop thinking about fucking the hell out of her. I viewed her as one of the prettiest woman in the family and unfortunately her remoteness and unattainability, made her ever more desirable.
She had everything that I wanted, great breasts well shape ass but that mouth and full lips held a lot of promise and I could just imagine sliding my hard shaft between those full lips and straight into that warm mouth. How much could I get down her throat. How hard could she suck. How much was she able to swallow.
Dreams like that filled the nights leading up to our trip east.
One of those sexual hic ups, what you can't have and will probably never get is the one thing you stroke over night after night, until your cock is screaming at you to get a girlfriend.
At some point in our marriage, my wife seemed to have lost interest in sex, not just me but the very idea of having sex. She would tell me that I was too big for her and it hurt when I tried to enter her. Maybe that was her making sure my ego didn't get damaged but, that's when I started thinking about having a torrid affair with her older sister.
The one thing I learned about masturbating over time is that is a guilt free endeavor, that is if you don't want to hurt the one you're still with. No egos are hurt in the process and the thought of feeling shameful about jerking yourself off is not instinctual, it is taught by parents at an early age. An occasional cramp in the hand not withstanding, it's a way to let off stress.
My feelings about fucking Shelly seemed to intensify at the thought of visiting her and her husband but in the pit of my stomach, I sensed disaster. Were we gong to be treated like shit. Was the conversation going to be steered far above our pedestrian lifestyle?
By was I wrong. Within fifteen minutes of arriving Shelly dragged me into the kitchen, away from everyone else.
"We need to talk!"
I was slightly tensed up, to say the least, thinking that I had only just arrived, what could I have done wrong in that time.
Did I run over their dog?
She stopped in the kitchen and stared at me. I stared back, wondering where the hell this was going. Fortunately, we didn't not come to visit this side of the familiy that much.
"What's on your mind?" I asked.
'God...I don't even know where to begin but...."
We were interrupted by Shelly's husband. He looked older than when I had seen him last but then, that had been more than five years ago. Allen was nine years older than Shelly and looked gaunt and uninterested in everything about this event. He was just there.
Allen popped his head in to remind her that everyone had gathered in the front room. Then he was gone.
Shelly looked at me again, her face etched worry. She seemed extremely nervous around me.
"Later....we have to talk." I followed her out of the kitchen.
I saw that she was nervous for most of the night, sitting across the room staring at me for most of the night. She had on a loose open neck sweater and did little to show off her well proportioned breasts. Now she spent most of the evening staring intently at me. Earlier in our relationship she went out of her way to ignore me but now...?
This was strange. For years, she had never paid any attention to me but now, tonight, her eyes were all over me.. Now I didn't mind the feeling that I was being molested by her attention, a couple of times, I would swear she was staring at my crotch. Everyone had drinks and small talk was passed around the room, mostly concerning the state of Allen's and Shelly's job status. Allen was a media teacher at the local university and had been for years. Shelly was a secretary and office manager at the local convent, writing weekly newsletters and selecting information to give out to those wanting to become a Nun.
"Where's you bathroom?" I asked getting up from the boring conversation that was going nowhere anyway. Shelly was instantly off the couch.
"I'll show you where it is."
She passed by me and I followed that cute ass swaying under he skirt into the furthest reaches of the house I had never had the chance to explore before. I felt her hand on my shoulder and she pushed me into the large bathroom and closed the door behind me, I turned and saw that she was in there with me.
"What the...?"
"I needed to talk to you earlier."
"About what?" Was this the same woman who had ignored me for years during the rare visits to the rest of the family, even going so far as to pretend I wasn't even at their father's funeral?
