"I seriously want to fuck you," read the text.
That's how it all started.
A red wine drunken evening. A family gathering no less.
All thirteen or so members. All the generations, all getting together to celebrate a birthday (I don't even remember who's it was!).
I had been staring at you that night, starting to imagine what your large uncovered breasts might look like...what your uncovered mound would look like...were you shaved?...did you still get excited?...wet?
You had sprung me staring a few times and had fixed your large eyes on me, in a 'what-the ... are you staring at me for' kind of way.
I returned the gaze, but not for long...your gaze could be quite unnerving especially considering the thoughts I'd been having.
My mind, however, kept drifting. Kept what-iffing, and I began to get quite horny.
I'd been your brother-in-law for more than 25 years and after that night, in a wine sozzled state, as my wife was driving our half asleep family back home, from the passenger seat I'd dangerously texted those infamous words...or rather I hadn't stopped myself sending the text...and everything had changed. I even remember the ease with which I'd responded to my wifes question of who I was texting, "Oh, just thanking them for a lovely evening."
We got home. It was kind of late and there'd been no reply, (not sure I expected one or was even in a state to expect one!) and I settled back to watch a bit of telly while my other family members made their ways to bed.
"Don't stay up too long Bob...You're drunk as a skunk!," said my wife, as she kissed me goodnight and then went upstairs herself.
10mins later, probably around 11.30pm, my phone text sound went off and I scrambled to hit the mute button, aware that my house had very thin walls and a very light sleeping spouse.
"OMG! OMG! That was a very out there text you sent. You can't send things like that to me Bob. I'm your sister-in-law!!!"
I immediately texted back, feeling vey righteous as only a drunk can, deciding that I was going to completely expose myself; no dithering, no holding back. The unvarnished truth and nothing less...Ah, the power of red wine!
"It's the truth," I texted, as if that was justification enough.
"You're drunk," you replied. "You need to go to bed."
"Drunk, yes. Doesn't mean I don't want to fuck you though," I restated, and there was a lot of power in those words. I had NEVER written anything like this before in a text message. I was a complete novice and the thrill of committing real thoughts to print was completely intoxicating, even for a drunk!
"What are you talking about? Where's this coming from? You don't know what your saying. We've known each other for 25 years! You've never acted like this before. Go to bed, you drunk sod. Goodnight," you texted again.
With the courage born of no tomorrows, I ignored your rational attempt to kill the conversation, and continued.
"I've always thought you were attractive...but yes, you are my sister-in-law so when would I ever act like this?...I'm just sick of pretending and not saying what I think and being good...Shit, I'm 50 for gods sake! I want to be bad!!!!"
Yes, lots of exclamation marks, and then I searched my phone for the relevant emoji (again something I'd never normally use), found a horny devil face, which seemed as appropriate as any, added it and pressed send. I really didn't think I'd hear any more from you after your goodnight sign-off, so I sent another missive.
"Don't you ever want to be bad...?'"
Quick as a flash, "Yes, but I'm the grown up. I'm the good girl who always does the right thing...I've always been a good girl," came back, with a little angel face emoji attached.
Wow! Now that kind of response, I hadn't expected. 'Yes'!!!!!!!
That was, even in my state, a go-button to a place I'd really never been to before.
"But you want to be bad too?," I texted, needing confirmation before my mind got away from me.
"I'm a good girl, who has evil thoughts...Goodnight Bob."
"Is your husband awake?"
"No, he went to sleep about 15 mins ago. Just me in my bed. With my evil thoughts...Goodnight Bob."
"Do you want to fuck me?"
"OMG! Goodnight Bob. delete delete delete"
—————
Here's some background.
Carol was about 5 years younger than my wifes brother, her husband. She was indeed a 'good girl' and had been for as long as I'd known her. I'd never seen her drunk or out of control in any way. She would always write thankyou notes to people after attending dinner parties, always check on sick family members, always do the right thing. She was that kind of person.
She was also always 'dressed.' Done up to the nines. Makeup on; big coiffed hair; nails done; the right piece of demure jewellery to go with the right jacket. It wasn't over the top, but you could see she spent a lot of time on her appearance, and pearls and twin sets were definitely in her future. Anyway, you get the picture.
These things are normally a turn-off for me BUT, the other thing about her, that her many scarves and jackets couldn't hide, was that she was a BBW, in it's truest sense.
A Big Beautiful Woman.
Big tits, Big arse, Big eyes, Big lips.
For me, a real turn-on.
Overweight yes, but in a give-me-as-many-handfuls-of-that-as-I-can-get kind of way. I'd always asssumed she had issues with her size: she would never expose her skin or body at any time, wouldn't go to the beach or jump in her own pool (at least not when any of her extended family were there, and on a hot summers day that's some kind of restriction to put on yourself!). She would always say it was her 'pale skin' and 'keeping out of the sun' that caused this behaviour but...anyway each to their own. The point is there were never any 'wow-look-at-carols-plunging-cleavage-I-need-to-get-me-some-of-that' moments in the 25 years I'd known her, and our only physical contact was the polite peck on the cheek whenever we greeted each other. Given my disposition for the big breasted woman, I had natural curiosity about what lay beneath her many scarves, jumpers and jackets, but she had never encouraged that and it seemingly wasn't in her DNA. Its like she was embarrassed by her attributes, rather than proud...
She was also very, very prone to exageration. Everything was the 'best thing' she'd ever eaten, the 'worst film' she'd ever seen, the 'most outrageous' thing anyone had ever said etc., but as the years had gone by and her children had grown, she'd mellowed a bit and would now only occasionally shock with the things that came out of her mouth.
She, like me, had now been married for a long time and whereas my marriage was happy (but a bit stale), she'd had more obvious relationship isssues that had finally been overcome, but you could sense there was underlying tension in their resolve. I got on with her husband Ted very well, and he and my wife Alices relationship had always been strong.
We had two kids, they had two kids. etc.
It had been this last summer that I'd first really seen her other side.
Christmas day actually.
There was a large family gathering at their house and we all had dutifully hauled ourselves up there. This was a typical Carol-shining-as-hostess kind of occasion. A full house, all generations, making sure the canapes were all out, everybodies glasses were full, small talk abundant so that no-one felt left out. When we arrived however there was no Carol to greet us at the front door, no Carol to take our coats, offer us a drink, inquire about our childrens presents.
Instead there was Carol, sitting at the dining room table, with her sungalasses on. Her hair was out there and wild. She had a loose fitting soft woollen top on and it became abundantly clear to a person with my predelictions...No Bra!. Whenever she moved, a rolling swell would flow under her top, her unencumbered breasts swaying freely. Who is this woman and what's she done with Carol?
Again completely unlike the Carol I had known, she also appeared completely oblivious to how she presented and was recounting her Christmas eve adventure as we entered the dining room.
'...I've never been so drunk in my life!...Still am!...Didn't get to sleep until 4am!...Had such a goooood time!...Probably still be in bed if it wasnt Christmas!....ouch my head..."
Her husband Ted also looked like he'd enjoyed the neighborhood dinner party they'd attended, but he was a bit of a party animal so his slightly glazed demeanour wasn't as surprising as Carols. Carol...loosened up...not caring about what others thought...really sexy!
That thought had lodged in my brain...
There had been numerous family gatherings since then and even though the old Carol resurfaced each time, the memory of that christmas conversion, that sneak peek into who Carol could be, never left me. It sort of made sense that Ted, the party animal could have been attracted to her, that she wasn't all presentaion, that if you only dug a little you might find... Yes, she was my sister-in-law but she was also a sexual being, and my mind couldn't stop wandering down that dark path...
—————
Fast forward:
The morning after was a Monday. With head throbbing, I packed the kids off to school and said goodbye to my wife as she set off for work. Luckily for me, I work from home for an artsy-type magazine, so didn't have to present myself to anyone else that day. I headed to the kitchen to make a strong coffee and take some headache pills, hoping that I'd soon be able to vaguely launch into the day without collapsing.
As the coffee brewed, the sobering daylight started to trigger my anxiety and then remorse. What the fuck had I done last night?
I sat down at the kitchen bench and wrote a text off to my sister-in-law, hopefully trying to come back from the precipice, but not really thinking that I could.
"Hey Carol. Look I am very sorry about last night (!). Yes, was very drunk. Not an excuse (well maybe(?) but anyway I want to apologise profusely and hope you can forgive me. xxbob"
No more than 2mins later, Bzzzz....Bzzzzz
My phone jiggled mutely on the kitchen counter.
"Always forgiven xx...but that WAS a very out there text you sent last night!"
I felt immediately OK. Maybe we could carry on as normal...but Carol was bringing it up again...Why?
"It was only the truth," I responded again, the truth serum seemingly still running through my veins. My penis immediately began to stir. The reality of confessing my taboo desire was like a switch being flicked on in my libido.
"I'm your sister-in-law! You are bad!"
