Sister-in-Law and I Satisfy Needs

I'm a normal guy.

Seriously, I'm as normal as the next guy. And the guy next to him.

Work is something I do to provide for my family, and it helps when it is challenging work.

I have to admit my job is a pain but it pays the bills.

At home, my two kids are great and it's comforting to know they are getting along well in school with decent grades and staying away from the things which cause problems.

My wife is a sweetheart, back in the work force after a few years off to take care of the kids. She has a decent job, likes it, and together we have the makings for a good home life, friends and all the things that go along with the aforementioned things.

Still, it isn't a totally storybook life for me. I work way too many hours, my boss can be challenging and my golf game is not getting any better. Oh, and yes, my sex life isn't where I'd like it to be.

You see, Monica and I have jumped the shark in the bedroom. What was once a can't wait to do it, and then do it again, kind of life has saw the number of occurrences shrink to less than once a month as sex has become a chore rather than a desire. At least for Monica.

The girl who once blew me in the car in front of her parent's house won't even suck my dick, saying proper wives don't do that kind of thing. The girl who once had sex in a friend's bathroom - while the friend was entertaining a room away - now thinks anything other than missionary on a holiday is plain wrong. Ah, for the good old days.

She was fine doing all kinds of other things rather than making love with me, and I hated that thought pattern. I guess it was old hat or something. But it irked me to no end. Oh, I still loved her endlessly, and everything else in our relationship was fine. But the lack of nookie really grated on me.

For the longest time I held it in, argued with myself it would change. I'd tried cajoling, I'd bought sexy undies for her, I set up romantic weekend, I tried sweet talking and sweet doing. But nothing seemed to ignite the spark which used to be there. Why on the romantic weekend the closest I got to a sexual encounter was jerking off on her ass. A nice orgasm, but so very non-committal and less than fully satisfying.

Bottom line? I longed for a good lay. A screw job. Dirty sex. And that got my mind wandering. I didn't want to cheat on Monica, but the longer things went on in the same old way and the longer I missed down and dirty bedroom behavior the more I wondered how to scratch my itch.

I took to Craig's pages to read of what others wanted or offered or thought about. The more I read the classified the more I saw there were people in the same boat as me.

Mostly guys, but a few girls too. And while I'm not happy to admit it, I responded to a couple ads - to no avail. Dead ends. Still, it was exciting to interact with others.

About two months ago I replied to a Woman seeking Men ad from a few towns away.

Who knows if it was a woman, or nearly, of course, but she was seeking a little loving on the side. We exchanged emails - me opening a new account with a fake identity just in case. She was probably doing the same.

Back and forth we went, talking about everyday life and work, happenings, kids and along the way she said her hubby was cheating on her. I revealed my problems in the bedroom. We comforted each other, and what was nice was that we were communicating while not pressuring at any level. It was good conversation.

Somewhere along the way I suggested we meet, maybe for coffee or something safe where she would feel comfortable. I joked that she had better be of age and not a cop. She assured me her body was clearly that of a 40 something and she was anything but an officer of the law.

We were working arrangements for our meetings when I received an e-mail from Misty (the name she used, but one I figured was made up just like my Roger was made up).

"Roger - I know we were meeting for coffee, but how about we cut to the chase. My hubby really is having an affair, I know first hand, and I want to meet with you privately.

Maybe a hotel? I can't promise sex but want to meet with you, talk to you, hold you and let's see what happens."

Damn, that came as a surprise. But the door was open, and I walked right in. I set up a room at a no tell motel that a buddy had used in the past, and Misty and I made arrangements to meet. It was simple, I'd get the room, check in, she'd show up, and we'd "meet" for a couple hours. I didn't expect to get laid, but I didn't rule it out.

On the day in question I arrived early, spoke with the foreign guy at the front desk, paid for a day rate of three hours and went down to the room at the end of the building. Inside, I sat and waited for Misty to arrive, thinking there was a chance she'd get cold feet and never show.

But soon there was a very quiet knock on the door. Taking a deep breath, I thought it might be a disaster but why not. Opening the door, I looked at a nicely dressed woman whose smile quickly disappeared.

"Holy Fuck!" was all she said.

"Oh my God," was my only retort.

We looked at each other and trembled together. Busted! It was my sister-in-law,

Christine, the girl in the perfect marriage. The woman who I'd eyed over the years. Lusted after. My wife's flesh and blood.

She started to turn and I quickly asked her to wait.

"We have to talk, Christine, please don't leave."

She looked at the floor, looked at me, and said, "we can't let anyone know we met."

I agreed and said let's talk, pointing toward the two chairs near the table in the room.

After a bit, she entered the room and closed the door.

We sat across from each other and stared. Each of us was equally guilty in our activity.

"I've never met with anyone before," she finally stated, emphatically.

"Neither have I," was my reply.

More quiet time followed before she asked if I was lying. I explained I wasn't. We agreed nobody needed to know about this embarrassing meeting.

Somewhere in the embarrassment we discussed our problems. I spoke about my sex life, or lack thereof at home. She spoke of her husband doing the classic bang his secretary thing. I spoke about being less of a man, while she less of a woman. We both were desperate enough to read and place ads online to find a partner to scratch the itch.

Christine chuckled at her sister's change in character. "Damn, in high school she must have blown a dozen guys, and now she won't suck your cock? That's amazing. And you really only have sex on holidays?"

I replied that only on certain holidays. Not all of them. Just a handful of times a year.

"Well, Matt and I have sex more than that, but these days, I often wonder if I'm getting seconds. Or, there are times when he is rough with me, bangs me hard, but I know he doesn't cum. And of course if he leaves the house after I wonder if he's going to her to deposit his load, as if I was the fluffer like in a porn film."

Apparently Matt had left some tell tale signs, and Christine had caught on, and actually went over to the workplace on a Saturday and saw her husband's car and his secretary as the only vehicles outside. She used one of Matt's ID cards to swipe in, and slithered upstairs where she stood outside her husband's office door and heard the two frolicking inside.

She was going to break up the soiree but thought of the kids, the heartache that would follow, and all those kinds of things before departing and parking well outside view to watch the couple emerge from the building, kiss, and leave their separate ways.

"It was so embarrassing. It has been a nightmare," said my sister-in-law. "I got, well, especially wanton after, trying to prove I was still hot and desirable. I'd meet him at the front door, drop to my knees, and suck him. What hurt was when he couldn't come, or when I tasted her on him. I thought about divorce, but realized too much was at stake. So I kept it to myself."

We talked and talked, and finally I said, "So here we are. We obviously have to keep quiet, not let anyone know we met."

Christine came up with the solution.

"Look, we both have needs that are not being met. It really is a bad idea to have an affair or rendezvous with someone we don't know, the consequences are just way too much. I don't want a divorce and neither do you, so I guess we could just keep this to ourselves and I can continue to use my vibrator and you can use your hand to satisfy yourself. Or..."

"Or what."

Sort of at impasse, we stared. And stared.

Soon Christine was rubbing my leg, watching my discomfort. I decided to up the ante and stroked her leg. Soon we were embracing and then kissing like teenagers. We made out, swapping spit, moaning, groaning as the stroking became more intense.

Soon both our pants were down and we were in front of each other in panties and boxers stroking closer and more intensely.

"I can't make love with you," said Christine. "But I can take care of that."

Agreeing, I said I felt the same way. Soon we were on the bed, horizontally, facing opposite directions. I played with her clit while licking her pussy, while she stroked me while licking the top of my cock. It sounds crazy, but within a few minutes she was in the midst of a shaking orgasm while I let loose with several spurts of cum that landed on her face and in her mouth. It was awesome.

There was a knock at the door, and the guy was reminding us there was a time limit. We both wondered out loud if he had heard our sexual activities. We cleaned up and sat in my car, talking about what we'd done, and why it was so wrong.

"But you know, it was very, very satisfying," said the woman. "That was the best time I've had in the bedroom in ages. I didn't think a bit about Mark and his dick pounding that girl. It was just us, and it was awesome."

I agreed. "I mean, your mouth was wonderful, I haven't had a blowjob in years, and doing that while doing you was just out of this world...I hope we can do it again."

She said we shouldn't, but then added, we would.

I totally agreed it would have to be in a way that we couldn't be caught, and that while I thought the world of her I didn't want it to have an effect on my marriage. She agreed. It would be our little secret.

Two weeks later I received her call and we again decided to meet. Mark had come home with lipstick on his underwear, and she was pissed. "I want to fuck you, I want you to fuck me, as soon as possible."

We set it up for the next afternoon, at the same no tell motel.

Christine arrived looking beautiful, and I fucked her for the first time against the door of the room before moving to the bed. Have to say that she was the aggressor on the bed, sitting on my cock both in the cowgirl and reverse cowgirl positions, moaning and groaning while bouncing on my dick. It was awesome.

She had a way or slowing when I neared orgasm, holding me off while we basked in the adventure. During the break in the action she relayed that Mark had come home while she had planned a little nookie for him, and she noticed the lipstick on his boxers while sucking him off. "There was a little bit of sexual aroma that got me thinking, but I wasn't going to stop. I sucked him but he couldn't cum, and the sight of the lipstick just spurred me on. He was hard, but couldn't cum."

Christine had me stand up and then knelt before me, taking her time, polishing my knob. It was so erotic watching her suck me off, and truly it couldn't have taken more than a few minutes before I came in her hot sucking mouth.

That was the start of our affair. It's been ongoing several years now and nobody is wiser. All from a classified ad meeting where everything could have gone to hell quickly.

We meet regularly now, maybe every couple months, and get our jollies, satisfying out nocturnal desires. Every once in a while when there is a real need we will get together on a moment's notice, where she will blow me and mock her sister for not taking care of business.

We've had sex in a mall stairwell, in the car at a park, along railroad tracks and in the bedroom. We attempt to keep it real and exciting by frolicking it sexy locations. All the while maintain decorum in real lives.

Holiday gatherings and family outings were at first scary, but we worked that out. The fact that we found a ways to satisfy our needs behind the curtain was something I loved.

I like that. A lot.