Finally At Last

"I need to go."

"Don't."

"I have to." She was feeling lightheaded and weak.

"Stay."

"No."

"Please."

John reached out and touched her right shoulder.

Anna turned her head toward his hand.

"No, I should go," she said quietly.

John reached out with his other hand and held her left arm.

"No," she said again, but she didn't move.

Then John leaned toward her. She raised her head. John kissed her lips. Anna felt herself returning the kiss. They held the kiss, like a long and soft sigh. Anna placed her delicate hands below John's shoulder blades. They broke their tender, tentative embrace.

"No. We can't," Anna said.

Anna took a long bath that evening. She thought about that moment as if it were a dream. She was the same age as her sister's husband and only a couple of years older than her sister. The sisters were almost identical. Both were lean and small breasted. If anything, Anna was slightly skinnier and darker than her sister, maybe an inch or two taller. Her eyebrows were thicker, her hair darker. She tended to dress sexier; her pants were generally tighter. She wore loose dresses, cut to flow down her abdomen and over her buttocks and loins, in colors more daring than anything her sister would choose. They had the same color of eyes, the same hands. Neither of them had much body hair.

With the water running, she began to shave the fine hair on her legs. Impulsively, she began to shave away all of the hair on her pubic mound and around her pubic lips. It made her feel so smooth. She washed herself and rinsed. When she was done, she began to fill up the bath again with water, salts and oils. She lay in the bath, surrounded by bubbles and candles. She felt her newly smooth skin. She traced her lips with her finger. She touched her hooded bud, slipping her finger inside the folds below, and even down to her most private orifice, which she seldom touched, let alone let anyone else touch, but now felt tingle. She thought of John. She thought of what might have been. Languidly she continued to finger herself in the bathtub, feeling the viscous coating, which she used to torment her achingly raw nub. She came once, hard, and then continued to finger herself to a second, softer climax.

They were finishing their second bottle of wine. Martha got up from the table to clear some dishes and went inside her home, leaving her husband and her sister. Her sister had come over in the afternoon. She was desperate, she said, to get a break from her own husband and kids.

Martha's husband had grilled outside, and the three of them had enjoyed each other's company during their dinner. Now evening was coming on and the temperature began to cool.

Martha's sister lay back in her chair, a glass in her hand. She was relaxed. She felt satiated by the food she had eaten. Each bite had been delectable. She liked the way her body felt from the heady warmth of the red wine she was drinking, her arms lying weightlessly by her sides. She felt unburdened at the moment, and she knew it was because her sister and her brother-in-law had gone out of their way to make her feel special. She knew her sister would always treat her this well. They were close, afterall. But now she saw her brother-in-law in a new light. There was something more appealing about him. She thanked her brother-in-law for the meal and the wine and this moment of contentment.

"Thank you, John," was all she said.

Martha's sister did not approve of him, John thought. Early in their history, there had even been a shouting match between them that left Martha in tears. Ever since then, the two in-laws had remained civil but there was nothing particularly warm between them. Tonight, he felt something new, and he wondered if she felt it, too.

The way she said thank you stirred a longing in him he had never experienced. He saw her sitting there. As always, he appreciated her sense of style, the delicate shoes she had kicked off her feet, her choice of clothes, stylish and complementary to her lithe body. She had the same pretty face as his wife, with its strong jaw and nose and dark brown eyes. Her long hair flowed in waves down the back of her chair. Her dress lay flat against her chest and across her legs. Her arms hung over the sides of the armrests. He saw how flat her tummy was but with the tiniest of a little roll. Her legs stretched out in front of her as she slumped further into her chair. Her legs were slightly apart, and he could not help glancing at the tiny fold that fell between her legs.

"You're welcome, Anna," John said with compassion.

Anna thought her sister's husband was too self-assured. He was a bit too handsome, and he was probably a philanderer. He had a maverick air about him that she thought was dangerous when her sister began to date him. Anna had just gotten married at that time. Her husband had a successful career and they could afford everything she could ever want. She didn't have to work anymore. But as the years went by, she noticed funny quirks about her own husband. His sense of humor was course. He didn't appreciate her sense of style the way she knew her brother-in-law did. Her brother-in-law sometimes remarked about a new dress, while her husband didn't even seem to notice. Her husband had always been a gentle, attentive, although unextraordinary, lover, and she wondered sometimes if there could be more passion in her life. She missed her independence in the work world. She missed her single years, when she partied with the girls and met guys she occasionally went to bed with. She felt smothered by her daily life, filled from morning to night with her husband and her precious but admittedly bratty kids. Today was especially bad, and she had fought with her husband earlier about something he had said. God, she needed to get away tonight.

John fought off a sudden urge to go over to Anna, stand between her legs, bend down, and kiss her. He thought it strange that he would have such a desire and wondered where it came from. Was there some spark? His experience told him that such feelings were often the result of some undeniable chemistry present in the air, but his better judgment prevailed. He was married, and he was married to Anna's sister. It was probably just the wine.

Anna felt a strange longing wash down her body. It pricked at her skin and lodged in her belly. The cool night air hardened her nipples under her sheer summer frock, and she could feel a breeze softly blowing up her legs and across her panties. It made her libido ache, she noticed. She saw John sitting in his chair, taking another drink from his wineglass and then glancing over at her with that look a thousand boys and men had given her. It was a longing like her own. She wondered if she was misreading her brother-in-law.

John's image in his mind of kissing Anna never went away, even after Anna went inside to help her sister. He finished his wine and went inside, but the sisters were gone. He made a stiffer drink and sat in the night outside. It was quiet. The house was dark. After another hour had gone by, he went inside. He was a bit tipsy as he climbed the stairs.

He opened the door to the bedroom. The lights were off. He approached the bed, and only when he came beside it could he make out his sleeping wife and his sister-in-law lying beside her. Anna was wearing a t-shirt of his as a nightgown, and he thought he could make out her naked thighs. She was awake. He heard a faint laugh of embarrassment.

"Sorry," he said softly, sheepishly backing away from the bed. "I didn't know."

Anna slept over that night in the bed. She hadn't wanted to go home. She wished somehow that she could steal another moment with John, like the moment outside on the patio, but she felt tied to the bed next to her sister. She had waited for John to come in after her sister had fallen asleep. She anticipated John's seeing her there, lying half naked on their bed, still and vulnerable. When John did come into the room, she held her breath. Again she felt an ache between her legs and a little wave start to flow inside her. She felt a soft cry of longing escape from her closed mouth and saw John back away. When he left, she put a finger to herself because she felt so warm and safe. It had been so innocent, she thought, but still she felt that she had exposed something intimate to her brother-in-law.

John slept downstairs on the couch, his mind racing now with two images. The first image—he is kissing Anna as she sits back in the patio chair. The other—he nuzzles his mouth against her exposed sex as she lies on the bed next to his wife. He thought how soft her lips would feel pressed against his own, how their tongues would reach out to each other and moisten their kiss. He thought about kissing her secret slit between her thighs, how he would see it covered by a fine and wispy down, how he would smell its exotic perfume, how his tongue would first trace the tiny folds until they opened revealing the first taste of her buttery nectar. He thought what sounds of pleasure would emanate from her and what looks of compassion he would find in her eyes.

In the morning, John awoke on the couch dreamy with a pleasant morning erection. He could hear the sisters in the kitchen. The unfurled protrusion in his boxers felt too good to ignore, so he reached into his shorts and tugged it viciously for a few brief seconds before he decided to let it subside, just as he had the night before. When it relaxed, John got off the couch to get some coffee in the kitchen.

Martha and Anna were moving about the kitchen in barefeet, still dressed in extra large t-shirts. John imagined baby doll panties underneath the shirts. The three exchanged pleasant smiles.

"Good morning, girls," John said, reaching for the coffee pot.

They replied back, and Martha walked by John, kissed him on the cheek, and wrapped her hand quickly around the bulge outlined in his boxers.

"My, my," she said quietly. "It must be a good morning."

Anna had seen the gesture, but turned discreetly away. John saw her face turn red.

John took his coffee back into the den, slipped on his cargo shorts, and went out into the backyard to work on the garden and trim the lawn. He thought that might help get his mind off Anna. He ended up working outside until it became too hot in the afternoon. Before noon, Martha told him she and Anna were going shopping. Before they left, Anna ducked out the door and said goodbye to John.

"And thanks," she said.

When John finished working that day, he jumped into the shower. Under the scalding hot water, he felt energized and imagined over and over again holding Anna in his arms. He lathered up, his manhood now throbbing and so fully engorged that it stood out from his loins only a few degrees from vertical, and like a crazed animal he viciously stroked himself, feeling the delicate friction up and down the tender belly of his shaft and over and around the dome of its tip. He was delighted how hard he felt as it slipped in his hand like a piston in his fist, and a fountain of milky gel erupted, covering the head and flowing onto his hand, which continued to slide along the lubricated shaft. He squeezed out the last elastic drops. It wasn't enough, but it would have to do.

Months went by. Nothing more happened between Anna and John. They hardly talked to each other. Anna didn't come over again alone. John masturbated every day for the first few months thinking about Anna. Lying by her husband at night, Anna thought about John, too. She wanted John at those times, wanted him to be on top of her, penetrating her. Purposely, they acted as though nothing had ever happened. Nothing had happened. There were no real signs and nothing was ever connected between them, not even a word.

What is more, neither of them could imagine anything ever really happening between them. A woman simply didn't have an affair with her sister's husband. A man didn't cheat on his wife with her dearest sister. Anna never had had an extramarital affair. John had never cheated on Martha. Eventually they each tucked the whole idea way back in some hidden recess in their minds.

There was a family reunion that fall at a resort in the mountains. As with most reunions, there was a lot of eating and drinking involved.

Everyone arrived about the same time and checked in, finding rooms close to one another. Grandma and Grandpa were on a high floor and down the floor were more aunts and uncles. Some cousins were on another floor, and Martha and Anna found adjoining rooms on yet another floor. After checking in, one of the cousins opened a bar in their room and everyone gathered there before it was time for dinner. All the kids were in an extra room next to Grandma, watching cartoons, with the older nieces watching over their young cousins.

Anna's husband had gone to play golf and Martha was already in the spa. That left Anna and John sitting in the cousin's room, drinking the cousin's mojitos, which were made by the pitcher.

Dinner was in the steak restaurant, and the family was noisy. The golfers hadn't returned yet, and Martha was still in the spa. That meant Anna and John found seats together at a table with one of the cousins. The cousin brought her boyfriend, who continued ordering mojitos for the table and told ribald stories to John and Anna, whom he assumed were married to each other. The stories involved the cousin, who laughed nervously but only slightly blushed. You could tell the couple were heavily into an erotic lifestyle together. Anna was a bit shocked about her cousin but she withheld any judgment.

Anna and John were having a great time. They were talking a lot with the other couple, but also found time to chat between themselves. As the room became louder, Anna and John's conversations became more intimate. John decided to cut the mojitos and ordered wine for the table.

By the time salads had arrived, everyone was seated. Martha had greeted John and Anna when she came in and sat with Anna's husband at another table. John ordered one more bottle of wine and poured some for Anna.

"Just half," she said, feeling she had long ago reached her limit but having the time of her life talking with John and hearing the stories from her cousin's boyfriend.

John also was having fun. He was sipping his wine when he felt Anna's leg brushing against his own. He wondered if that were an accident. He didn't move his leg away and neither did Anna. Both of them felt a sudden electricity between them. They were already glowing from the wine, flush with excitement from the stories. While he took a drink of wine, John rested his hand on his leg. Anna felt his hand near her leg. Then she dared to put her hand on her own leg, next to John's. As they continued talking to the other couple, their hands crept toward each other and their fingers began to interlock.

How wonderful! thought John. How good to feel him touching me! thought Anna. They were both smiling and giddy. Their hands, well hidden under the table, began to hold each other more boldly.

The other couple excused themselves to go dancing, leaving John and Anna. When they left, John caressed Anna's leg and Anna returned the gesture. Soon they were both feeling the inside of each other's thighs. Anna sighed heavily as John's hand moved closer to the pubic junction between her legs and he began to stroke the outline of her panties under her dress. She let him continue without the slightest of movement.

When she could stand it no longer, she dared to stroke John's thigh, placing it just where she knew she would be tucked near his bulge and as John inched closer and closer to her slit Anna cupped his bulge through his pants. It was so gentle a touch, but John felt on fire with sheer, exquisite joy. Anna felt John throbbing underneath.

"Would you like more wine?" John asked Anna.

"Yes, please, I'd love some more." Anna said, lightly squeezing John's bulge in her hand but without the slightest innuendo in her voice.

It meant removing his hand to pour. Anna thought about saying something at this moment, but decided to let this happen without any interference. John must have sensed the same thing.

"Thank you so much," Anna said after John put the bottle back on the table. "It's really good."

This time John's hand went under the table and began to gather her dress up along her leg and touch her bare thigh. When he understood there was no resistance, he moved his hand to her panties and found them wet. Anna again cupped his bulge. She wished there were a way to touch him equally as bare as he was touching her now. She thought about unzipping his fly, but she was scared to do that in the crowded room.

The cousin and her boyfriend returned to the table after their dance.

"Becky just told me you aren't married to each other," the boyfriend said. "I didn't realize that. You two look natural together."

"No problem," John said.

"Well, I hope I wasn't too out of line. Didn't mean to embarrass anyone," the boyfriend said.

"Really, it's okay," Anna said before John had the chance.

When the dinner was over, the couple invited John and Anna up to their room again to continue the cocktails. "I'm sure everyone else will eventually join us," the boyfriend said.

"We'll meet you there," John said.

Anna and John took some time to say goodbye to their spouses, who would meet them later for cocktails, and then went to the lobby. There they waited for an elevator. When the doors opened, they stepped in. Some guests who had just checked in asked them to hold the elevator.

The guests were chatty, but Anna and John went up to their floor in silence.

They went directly to their adjoining rooms. Anna went in her room; John into his. John opened the door that lead to Anna's room and knocked on hers. Anna slipped her panties off and opened her door.

They fell into each other's arms and began kissing each other passionately, their arms wrapped around each other. Anna felt herself fall back against a wall. John was pressing himself against her, his leg between her thighs. Ann felt herself returning John's kisses, their tongues battling, their mouths sucking each other's. John frantically cupped her little breasts, trying to free them from her dress. They felt so good in his hot hands.

When he bent his head down to suck on her nipples, she reached down to his crotch and fumbled for his zipper. He hiked her dress up around her hips. By this time, she was on her toes, pinned against the wall. She felt him reach under her dress and heard him groan when he found her crotch bare. He frantically undid his belt and unzipped his pants. They fell to the floor around his ankles. He took out his tool and held it in his hand to guide it into her. She wrapped her leg around his backside as his tip found her slit.

When he entered her, she felt immediately enraptured. She hung on to him, her arms around his neck, her legs locked together behind him, still held up by the wall behind her.

She cried out to him. "Oh, John, god yes, John."

He held her tight against the wall, his hands holding her up by the globes of her luscious rear. She felt her legs spread wide, taking him in. He impaled her deeply against the wall, thrusting his erection stiffly up into her. Briefly, he would remove one hand and cup her breast so he could suck her teat into his hungry mouth.

She whispered in his ear as he continued to fuck her, "John, John, Oh, John, I want this so bad, John."

She was as light as a pillow now. He held her high into the air. He had never been so crazed as this moment. He held her in his hands and fucked her like a rutting animal. She shrieked, feeling so possessed by him, knowing now, like no other time in her life, how it was to be taken so completely and to give herself up to every delicious moment. She felt wave after wave flowing inside her.