The following story is for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or reading sex stories upset you, or you are offended by subjects of a sexual nature - do not read any further! Stop Reading This Now!!
This story is for entertainment only. It contains adult oriented material. This is a work of fiction. The acts and characters contained within are figments of my imagination and have no basis in fact. I do not practice, advocate, condone or encourage acts portrayed here. The characters in the story are entirely fictional.
This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached.
If you enjoyed this story, please let me know!
Copyright © 2001, HarveyMarcus. All Rights Reserved.
* * * * * *
I won't bore you with the details of the circumstances under which I met and courted my wife. You only need to know that I first met her family a few days before our wedding. It was then that I met her sister, Tammy. Tammy was the kind of woman who would give every man in her vicinity an instant erection. She was pretty and sexy and bright and perky and all those things men didn't see in their existing female partners. I too was struck by Tammy but she would have nothing to do with me. After the ceremony, she hugged and kissed her sister, my new bride. She pretended to kiss my cheek but instead kissed the air. I didn't even to get to feel her ample breasts against my fully clothed body with a sister-in-lawly hug. Instead, she held my shoulders to keep me at a distance.
Soon after the wedding, just after my wife and I had set up a small apartment, my employer made some significant changes to the business. One was moving the whole company to another city. Soon my wife and I were on the other side of the country. With a raise and a bonus and a moving package, we could afford a small house with a spare bedroom that my wife insisted on, for guests who would never appear. With decreasing frequency, I would fantasize about Tammy, holding her, kissing her - you get the idea. She was always good as masterbation material. She saved me a few bucks every month instead of Playboy or Penthouse.
A couple of years after the wedding, when I was about at the point where Tammy was more illusion and less a real person, she called. Business was bringing her to our vicinity. All at once, the reality of Tammy snapped back. My wife, anxious to use our guest bedroom, insisted that Tammy stay with us. I tempered my outward enthusiasm. I was instantly hopeful that I'd get a chance glimpse at Tammy with less than all of her clothes on. Daydreams of Tammy coming out of the shower in a towel or to breakfast in a negligee filled my head and stiffened my manhood.
Tammy arrived at our home a few days later in an upscale rental car. Tammy was obviously doing very well for herself. I guessed she was putting her career ahead of any social commitments or relationships. My wife greeted her with a warm hug. I got a look of disdain. Tammy would be in town a few days, almost completely occupied by work. Tammy's business took her away from the house early in the morning and kept her away until late at night. My wife was frustrated that her sister was visiting but that she wasn't available to spend time with. I was just frustrated. My wife insisted we all have dinner together on Tammy's last evening in town. That would be the only chance for me to spend any time with her as well.
The night before the dinner outing I spent some time with my best buddy at our local watering hole. After a couple of beers, I spilled my guts and the bowl of pretzels that were on the table. I told him of my lust for my wife's sister, her proximity, the way she treated me since the wedding and her imminent departure. I hadn't even seen her less than fully clothed. "I don't think she'd pay attention to me if there was a gun pointed at her head," I mused. We finished our beers and I went home. Tammy was already asleep, another opportunity missed.
The next evening was our big night out. I locked up the house and drove us to the restaurant, with Tammy in the back seat. Over drinks and dinner, Tammy concentrated on her sister. It was as if I wasn't even there, ignored by both of them. They chatted like the two sisters they were, catching up on family and friends, memories and plans. I had been corect in y earlier assumption. Tammy was very successful at work and had ambitiously climbed the ladder of success. She still hadn't gotten involved in a steady relationship.
"No wonder," I thought, "if she treats other men like she treats me."
I drive us all home and parked the car. We sauntered into the house, weary from a long day, the drinks and a heavy meal. I hung up my wife's coat and held out my hand for Tammy's. She went to the hall closet to perform the task herself. We were all startled when a man in a ski mask jumped out of the kitchen waving a pistol.
"Okay, all of you, get in the living room," he demanded.
I wasn't about to argue with the nasty looking black gun he waved at us. My wife and Tammy also follwed his directions. He escorted us to the living room. The gunman dragged two chairs from the dining room table and faced them back to back.
"Tie him up on that chair," he snarled.
My wife and Tammy were about to go looking for rope when he amended his demand. He didn't want them out of his sight, for obvious reasons.
"You'll need to use something that's already here. I know, use your pantyhose," he finished.
They were startled by his request but were too afraid to argue. My wife went first, reaching up to remove her pantyhose. The gunman checked out my wife's legs as her skirt was raised by her movements.
"You too, sister," he snapped at Tammy.
