We were all going out for dinner, my wife Patty, her sister Donna, our brother-in-law Brad and me. I shambled submissively out of the guest bedroom to find Patty and Donna standing in the kitchen. They were both in their 60s -- Patty is 63 and Donna 60 -- and a little on the plump side, but they looked ravishing. Patty wore a blue dress that emphasized her cleavage and Donna a red outfit, also with a plunging neckline.
I was about to ask where Brad was when he emerged from the master bedroom, where he now slept. He strode up to the women and looked them over.
"Very nice," he said. "No panties, right?"
They shook their heads, but he said he needed to check. With that, he lifted the hems of each dress until their hairy pussies were exposed.
"Outstanding," he said, and ran an index finger up and down both of their slits, eliciting moans from each woman. Dropping the hems back down, he put his cunt juice coated finger first in Patty's mouth, then Donna's. Both sucked the finger eagerly.
I stood there, helpless, as he looked back at me.
"On the way to the restaurant," he said to me, "you'll sit up front with me and give me a blowjob while the women play with their cunts. Understood?"
I nodded sheepishly and wondered how the hell I'd gotten into this.
It all started when Brad and Donna asked if they could visit for a month or so to escape the harsh Milwaukee winter. Of course, we said yes. The weather in Orlando, where we live, was warm and inviting. Patty and Donna were close, and Brad and I had mostly gotten along. We looked forward to having company.
One night a few days into their visit, we all decided to play cards. We started off with Hearts, segued into Euchre and then Spades. Patty and Donna polished off two bottles of wine, while Brad and I pounded down our share of beer.
At some point, Brad suggested we play poker. Patty was reluctant since she'd never played the game, but after some encouragement from Donna, she agreed.
We played the first few hands for pennies, and then Brad said we ought to up the stakes.
"Let's play strip poker," he said.
There is no one primmer and more proper than my wife. She believed that sex was pretty much a marital obligation rather than something to enjoy, and over the years she rebuffed any suggestion that our sex life trek beyond a once-a-week, missionary position, lights off occurrence. Even that tapered off as we got older. She found sex painful due the thinning of her vaginal walls, and several surgeries to my lower back left me with ED.
In any event, I thought Patty would flatly reject the idea of strip poker and I wasn't disappointed.
"I'm not doing that," she said haughtily. "That would be ... disgusting."
Brad smiled and said, "Oh, I don't know. I think you'd look lovely naked."
Aghast, Patty looked at me, hopeful, I'm sure, that I'd say something to Brad about his crude remark, but I merely cast my eyes downward. Standing about 5-foot-10 and 175 pounds, with thinning brown hair and a slight beer paunch, Brad was never going to have anyone mistake him for George Clooney. But he had a confident, assertive personality, a way of bending people to his will. He had the ability to look you over and size you up within minutes. He'd sized me up years ago as someone he could dominate, and he was right. On more than one occasion he'd cowered me into doing something I didn't want to do. I was older than him by several years, but it was as if I were his younger brother who did what he was told, when he was told to do it. The look he gave me after his comment to Patty was, "Stay out of this."
Meanwhile, Donna began to goad her sister.
"Come on, Patty. What are you, chicken?"
As I said, the women are close but in their younger days there was a fierce sibling rivalry. They stared at one another for a long moment.
Finally, Patty huffed at her sister, "I'll do it if you'll do it."
"I'm in," Donna said with a chuckle.
Nobody asked me if I was in. The game was on.
None of us, it seemed, were very good poker players and an hour or so later we were all down to our underwear, the women in their bras and panties, Brad and me in our briefs. By the tent in his shorts, it was clear Brad had erection.
Patty lost the next hand and would have to lose either her bra or panties. She balked, and no amount of cajoling from her sister seemed to make a difference this time. She was not going to expose her breasts or pussy.
Then Brad said, "If you're nervous, I'll join you." He stood up and slid his underpants down to reveal a rock-hard cock that, once released from confinement, sprang up and down like a diving board. I sat there, dumbfounded. I looked at my wife. Her eyes were locked on Brad's bobbing cock, and there was an expression of shock on her face.
And something else.
Something like ... hunger.
"You can touch it if you want," Brad said.
"I ... I ... I couldn't ... wouldn't ..."
"Go ahead sis, it's okay," Donna urged.
Patty licked her lips. Her breathing was ragged, her chest heaving.
"It's been so long since I've seen a hard cock," she whispered. "So very long. Tom can't get it up anymore."
The words were daggers to my soul, and I shrank back in my chair as Brad laughed.
"You can take your bra or panties off now," Brad said. "Or preferably both."
Patty glanced up at Brad, then locked eyes on me. Slowly she stood. No, I thought, she won't take ...