My Horny Sister-in-Law

As I drove back across town, I struggled with two problems. The first was, just how the hell was I going to convince my wife, June, to let me fuck her horny sister Clarisse. June thought Clarisse was straight to the point of being nearly frigid. I now knew she was at least as horny as my wife and maybe more so. In addition, her black Baptist minister husband was maybe even more twisted. He wanted to watch.

The second and related problem dealt with how sexy the last two hours I had just spent with Clarisse had been. Sitting in the back of my Escalade jerking off while she watched and did the same was one of the sexiest things I had done in years, and by the time I finished the 45-minute drive across town to our house, my dick was about three-quarters erect. Just getting my rocks off in the back of the Escalade hadn't done the job. I was still seriously horny.

I was hoping the conversation about the first topic would go well, because I really wanted to get laid by June this afternoon, but I was afraid I was just going to get yelled at. Also, no doubt about it, I really wanted to fuck Clarisse too, but that was out for this afternoon and probably forever, if my conversation with June didn't go well.

When I walked into our living room, June was waiting for me, sitting naked on the couch, just as she had said she would be in her message of earlier in the day. Before she could say anything, I said, "June, I didn't fuck your sister. Really I didn't. But I have to tell you; she is one of the horniest women I've ever met. You've been all wrong about her and Herman being so straight."

"I know you didn't fuck my sister, and you're right, I've been wrong about her and Herman all this time. I just got off the phone with her, and she told me all about your lunch and what went on in the back of the SUV, and she even told me about how she exposed herself to you at the party last week. She is really a very naughty girl."

"No shit," I said.

As she spoke she spread her legs and slid a couple of fingers into her glistening pussy. My already swollen prick continued to grow.

"You know what else she told me?"

I was silent, afraid to ask.

"She told me how cute she thought you were when you said you couldn't fuck her because of me." I felt a wave of relief wash over me. It was going to be fucking, not yelling this afternoon.

"She also told me how you squirted cum all over her dress. That was very nasty, Richard. We have a lot to talk about, and I want to do it while you have your big, hard, stiff cock in my pussy."

She wiggled a finger, inviting me to walk to where she was sitting. When I stood in front of her she sat up and released the zipper on my trousers. Reaching into my pants with her hand, she began to stroke my cock (in the rush to dress when Clarisse and I were almost discovered in the parking lot, I had neglected to put my jockey shorts back on). Once June had my prick out of my trousers, she began to lick the helmet, causing it to bob and jerk on its own. "Fuck, that feels good," I said.

Her response to my comment was to inhale about half my cock into her mouth and to then begin jerking the remainder of the shaft with her hand (which she had lubed with her apparently ample pussy juice). She pulled her lips back nearly to the head, sucking as she went, and then inhaled it again. She repeated this cock sucking/jerking process several times until, I assume, she was satisfied that I was good and hard. Then she leaned back against the couch and patted the place next to her and said, "Lie down, I want to ride you while you tell me about your lunch."

I finished stripping off the rest of my clothes and lay down on the couch where she had been sitting, my dick standing tall and proud. June stroked it for a bit and then threw a leg over me and settled down astride me. My dick was sliding back and forth against her slippery pussy lips and her clit, not yet inside her.

Then she adjusted herself and my dick slid into her hot, wet, slippery cunt. Oh fuck! Jerking off in front of Clarisse had been good, but this was so much better. I immediately began flexing my hips to pump my cock in and out of her, but she put her hand on my chest and said, "No, not yet. I want to hear about my sister and her horny husband." She didn't pull herself off my cock. She just wanted to hear the story with my cock filling her pussy, and she knew that if we really started going to it she wouldn't get the story out of me before we got so absorbed in the fucking that we forgot about the story.

"Okay," I said, and did my best to hold still. "My first clue that it wasn't going to be a typical lunch with a minister's wife came in the way she was dressed. Her dark skirt was very tight and came only to about the middle of her thighs. She wore a white blouse, but it was quite sheer, allowing anyone who saw her to see the lacy bra she wore beneath it, which barely contained her tits. Her black pumps had to have at least four inches of heel. The whole outfit just dripped sex."

"My sister? Amazing! A few hours ago I would have said 'bullshit,' but given the phone conversation we just had, it all makes sense. She is apparently even more of a slut than I am." As she spoke, I reached up and began to softly massage her tits. Oh, I so love playing with her tits.

I described in detail the rest of our lunch, including the way she teased the young waiter, her display of cleavage, the shedding of undergarments in the washroom, and her fondling of my cock. Then I told June about our mutual masturbation session in the back seat of our SUV. By the time I finished that tale, my cock was hard as flint, and June was starting to twist her hips and fuck me.

"Wait," I said, knowing I needed to get the whole story out. "There is more to this story that you need to know. Remember how I told you about Herman watching Clarisse expose herself to me on the back porch of their house at last week's party?"

June froze, still sitting with my cock impaling her, but no longer fucking me. "Yes, I remember," she said cautiously.

"Well, he got so turned on by watching that he now wants—is really obsessed with—watching me fuck Clarisse. Apparently it really gets him off to watch Clarisse fuck another man, and now he is focused on me."

"Really?" June said. "So what does Clarisse think of this idea?"

"She's fine with it, as long as you and I are okay with it."

"And of course you don't have a problem with it?" she said sarcastically.

"What can I say? I'm a guy." As I spoke I flexed my cock in her cunt.

"Oh! Fuck!" she exclaimed, her eyes flashing wide open. "Don't do that when we are talking."

"Okay, but what do you think?"

"Fuck! You're asking me if it's okay if you screw my sister while her twisted husband watches, just to help her with her husband's nagging?"

"Yeah, well it doesn't sound so good when you put it that way."

June leaned down, mashing her tits against my chest, and whispered in my ear, "Fuck yes, it's okay as long as I get to fuck Herman's big dick. You can even watch us if you want." She stuck her tongue in my ear and used the muscles in her cunt to squeeze my cock. I damn near lost it right there.

She sat up again, still massaging my cock with her cunt muscles and said, "You know, dear, there was one detail you left out about your tryst with my sister, which wasn't very smart, given I had told you she and I talked."

"What'd I leave out?" I asked. The way she was massaging my cock with her cunt was making it impossible to focus on anything except the sensations in my prick.

"The one detail you left out was the part about finger-fucking her in the restaurant."

"Oops. I forgot."

"Bullshit! But don't worry about it. You 'fessed up to most of everything else." She was still massaging my cock with her cunt muscles. I wasn't sure how long I could hold out.

"Damn it, woman, stop that if you want to keep this conversation going!"

June giggled and said, "Okay, but there isn't a lot more to talk about. You want to fuck Clarisse, and Clarisse wants to fuck you, and I'm fine with all that as long as I get to fuck Herman. Are you okay with that?"

I was so horny at that point that I would have said okay to her fucking Dick Cheney and Barack Obama in a threesome, so long as someone stood guard to make sure Dick hadn't brought his shotgun.

"Sure, fine, absolutely. Now let's fuck!"

"Great. Now we just have to get Herman to bless this plan, and then Clarisse and I can figure out the details. She is going to talk to him about it when they go to bed tonight."

Taking the matter as settled, June began furiously humping me and I reciprocated. "Oh, fuck! I'm so close," I groaned.

"Oh God, me too. I've been thinking about this ever since Clarisse called me as she drove away from the parking lot after your lunch."

June began to whimper and cry, and a moment later she screamed loudly as her cunt clamped down on my cock. That set me off, and I squirted what felt like a gallon of cum into her cunt in my second orgasm for the day.

* * * * *

I was traveling on business for the next few days. When I called home each evening, the first thing I asked about was whether she had heard back from Clarisse yet.

After hearing nothing for a couple of days, I asked June, "Do you think Herman isn't willing to go along with this?"

"I don't know," she said. "Based on what Clarisse has told me, he is such a twisted, horny, bastard that he'll want to go along for sure. But who knows? A week ago I thought they hardly even had sex. Now it looks like my sister and her husband-the-minister are swingers. I'll call her tomorrow and see what's happening."

When I got back from my road trip the next night, the first thing I asked was what Clarisse had said when June called her.

"Oh they're both on board, but there is a complication."

"What's the problem?"

"Nothing serious. It's just that all four of us have been summoned to dinner at my parent's house tomorrow night."

"Oh," I said showing my disappointment. I really was looking forward to a kinky foursome with June and her sister and brother-in-law, but it wasn't going to be tomorrow night if we had to go to her straight-laced parents' house for dinner.

"I know. I know," June, said. "I was looking forward to this, too, but putting it off for a night or two isn't the end of the world."

"Wait a minute," I said. "We're going to stay overnight like we always do, aren't we?" (June's parents lived in a small town about a hundred and fifty miles north of us.)

"Of course."

"Well, maybe we can do something while we're all there."

"Are you nuts? You want us to have a foursome in my parent's house while they are there? If they catch us, you and Herman are likely to be castrated, and Clarisse and I will end up in a nunnery."

"Oh, good point. I'll wait."

* * * * *

June and I arrived at her parents' home late in the afternoon of the next day. Clarisse and Herman were already there. The four of us were, as was customary for our infrequent visits home, dressed in our Sunday best—dark suit, white shirt and conservative tie for the men and a long, flowered dress for the ladies. When we walked in, I shook hands with Herman. Clarisse wrapped her arms loosely around me for a sister-in-law style hug (hugs were permitted in the family, but only briefly). Clarisse smelled heavenly and she and I couldn't resist breaking the rules just a bit. I held her just a bit longer than was proper, and she broke the hug by twisting just so she rubbed her ample tits against my chest ever so lightly. I could feel my dick stir just a bit, warning me that I was going to have to be on good behavior or risk embarrassing myself.

June and Herman were behind me so I couldn't see what they were doing, but I saw Clarisse's eyes light up and a brief smirk flash across her face, so I figured they were up to something that wouldn't be approved conduct in the Reverend Farlington's household.

We had just pulled apart when the girl's mother (Sandra or Mom as we all called her on our infrequent visits) swept into the room bearing a tray of iced tea for all. I smiled graciously as I accepted a glass, thinking fondly of the glass of bourbon Clarisse had handed me on the back porch at her house. I took a quick sip and noted, without surprise, that it was in fact simply sweetened iced tea. If it had been bourbon, I probably would have dropped in shock on the spot.

Mom was an attractive woman in her late forties (Clarisse and June had been born twelve months apart before Mom reached twenty). Like her daughters, she had an ample bosom, which was well hidden beneath a conservative gray dress. Although she had never been heavy, it seemed to me that she was a bit trimmer than she had been the last time I had seen her. She probably could have traded dresses with either of her daughters without any problems. Of course, it was hard to tell as her gray dress effectively hid most of her body. When she finished serving the iced tea, she greeted each of the girls with a hug and Herman and me with a warm handshake, much as she probably did on Sunday mornings as she and her husband greeted the departing church members.

Mom settled into a couch, crossing her legs with her dress draped carefully well below her knees. The rest of us took seats in various places around the living room. Just as we were seated, the right reverend James Farlington ("Rev" or "Jimmy" as he was known in the family) walked into the room, and we all popped back up and the greeting ritual was repeated, again with all the sterility of the Sunday morning church greeting. Rev was a tall thin man, roughly the same age as Mom. He might have been characterized as gangly but for the exquisite control he seemed to have over his body. He always moved with the grace of a dancer and, like Mom, he retained his youthful handsomeness. They must have been a stunning couple thirty years ago, I thought.

When we sat again, Rev took a seat next to Mom, and I noticed that he sat close enough that his thigh was pressed against hers. It was nothing I would have considered out of the ordinary with any of our friends, but in this household it seemed an extraordinary public display of affection. I discarded the idea, telling myself that Clarisse's hug had put my mind in the gutter.

We chatted amicably, with the women doing most of the talking, and Rev, Herman and I listening politely. God how I wished that glass of iced tea had been bourbon. After awhile Mom arose to tend to supper, and Clarisse and June followed her out of the room volunteering to help, as if it were optional. That left us men folk to deal with our silence. That really wasn't much of a problem however, as Herman and Rev, both successful preachers, were more than capable of creating and carrying on an amicable conversation where no one had any real interest in saying anything. It was a requirement of the trade for them. They were even careful to draw me into their conversation, and no one expressed even the slightest degree of dissent from anything that was said—a perfectly amicable, and totally sterile, conversation, devoid of meaning.

After half an hour's discussion of their respective churches and my business, one of the girls stuck her head in the room to announce that dinner was served.

Dinner was a shocker—I mean a real shocker for all four of us. Rev and Mom served wine with dinner! It wasn't good wine, mind you, and there was only one small glass each, but it was wine, and it had alcohol in it.

At first, I wondered if it was a trap, with Rev and Mom waiting to pounce on the first person who took a sip, but after I watched each of them take a sip, I decided what the hell and took a sip, expecting hell fire and brimstone to descend on me immediately.

"Don't you think that's a lovely wine?" Mom said as she finished her second sip. I swear the earth moved beneath my chair. Mom was asking me if I liked the wine she was serving with dinner and was drinking herself.

I couldn't come up with a response. I was just tongue-tied. I took another sip to buy time. God, it was terrible wine, but I said, "Oh yes, it's very nice."

Rev spoke up, "Well, I suppose you four are surprised to see us serving wine, but we've had a lot more time, since we got a new young assistant pastor in our church, and he and his lovely wife have encouraged us to try a few new things. Of course, we don't share this with our parishioners, but you folks are family."

"Well, thank you, Rev," Herman said. "We appreciate your confidence in us." Having worked his courage up, he also took a sip of the wine. "Oh yes, very nice," he said.

Just as he spoke, the next fright arrived. I felt Clarisse, who was sitting next to me, put her hand on my thigh and then slide it up until she began to lightly massage my dick. My dick, of course, didn't find it frightening. My dick immediately leapt to attention. It never had the good sense to be afraid of anything, but the alarm bells in my brain were deafening. What the fuck, drinking wine at my in-laws' dinner table while my sister-in-law, who until a few weeks ago I had thought of as nearly asexual, stroked my cock beneath the table cloth. Had I slipped into an alternate universe?

After a moment or two Clarisse mercifully removed her hand from my lap, and the world began to spin more or less properly on its axis again. Dinner proceeded normally from there, or as normally as it could, given that there was wine on the table in addition to the usual pot roast.

But my shocks for the evening were far from over. About ten minutes later, Clarisse informed us all that she had dropped her napkin on the floor and asked if I could retrieve it for her. I pushed my chair back and dropped my head beneath the table reaching for the napkin. Clarisse had not only dropped it, but she had pushed it towards the middle of the table with her foot, insuring that I would look towards the far side of the table where June and Herman were seated.

What the fuck! June had her long conservative dress pulled up around her hips and her legs spread wide showing me her glistening pussy. Apparently she had decided to dispense with panties for the evening. As I watched, I saw Herman's large hand descend from above and slowly insert a finger into her juicy cunt.

The earth had stopped spinning again as I watched Herman finger-fuck my wife. Now, it wasn't that I was distressed about Herman finger-fucking my wife. After all I had agreed to the idea of the two of them fucking so I could do the same with Clarisse, but here, at dinner in the family home? Unfortunately, the world had not stopped turning for those on top of the table, and I heard the Rev's deep rumbling voice, "Having trouble down there, son?"

"Oh, no sir," I said as I scrambled back into my chair and handed Clarisse her napkin. "It just had slid a ways under the table."

"Thank you, Richard," Clarisse said. She leaned over and gave me a peck on the cheek, earning both of us a disapproving look from Rev. I looked quickly away and noticed a wry smile on Mom's lips. What the hell? The earth was wobbling on its axis again.

I looked across at June. She looked perfectly content, giving me a very polite smile. How could she do that with Herman finger-fucking her? Just then I felt Clarisse's hand on my cock again. But she backed off shortly, and I took a long gulp of my wine and tried to get my blood pressure under control.

Dinner proceeded more or less unexceptionally from there, and by the time we finished the lemon meringue pie, I was beginning to feel normal, for dinner at the in-laws that is.

As we sipped our coffee (decaf of course, Mom was careful to assure us) Rev began to talk about his new Assistant Pastor, and Clarisse resumed her massage of my dick through my trousers.

"He's a right sharp young man," he said. "Of course he's a might liberal, as these young guys tend to be. I swear, I sometimes wonder what they are teaching these kids in Seminary these days. But I have to admit, I kind of like some of his ideas, and he sure can raise money and attract new members. You can't argue with that."