In Fucking Sane Ch 06

I took a nap. Jen got up and showered, I didn't hear it or wake up. I mentioned it before: I really sleep hard; I even nap hard.

Until I was about thirteen, I pissed the bed most nights. That's how hard.

Anyways, you know how sometimes naps are the best for dreaming? I had a bunch that time after Ann watched Jen and I fuck, but only one dream really stands out. In it, Ann was on our bed, lying on her tummy in blue panties. But, the panties weren't really there. It was her ass that was blue, just her ass. Freakin' weird, I know. But, anyways, Jen was there, and she was telling me I had to fuck Ann. She was desperate and screaming, "Listen to me! You've got to fuck her!" But, I couldn't let Jen see that I wanted to, so I told her I wouldn't.

I don't know. Dreams. Whatever. But, that was one I really remembered.

***

The next week, Jen went out of town to a speech pathologist convention—that was her job. She worked for the public school, and she had to get her continuing education hours. It had been on her schedule for months, along with another day trip a few weeks later. I knew these events were coming, but I hadn't really thought about what they meant: I would be at home for a couple days, alone with my sister-in-law, Ann.

In the time leading up to the trip, Jen was frisky as hell. Like she didn't want to go without making sure I was well-fucked enough to last me a few days. She left on a Thursday and would be coming back Saturday.

It was Thursday. I was at my shop finishing some cabinet doors, and I was thinking hard about me and Ann in the house without Jen. And I was thinking about how Ann smelled that night I was secretly in her room, and about how her ass looked in those panties, and about her and Jen making out those years ago, and about Ann watching me fuck Jen and come all over her. And I was thinking about this plan—these ideas, really—I was kind of acting on.

Up to that time, I think I had been pretty safe on my wedding vows. Not that I didn't have some incriminating thoughts, but shit, I'm a dude. And not that-had Jen seen some of the things I'd done-I wouldn't have been in some serious trouble. But no, I had not been physically, sexually unfaithful.

Even so, I was acting on these ideas without really thinking about if they went wrong. It was risky, and I'd had a string of successes. I didn't feel like being conservative, yet.

But, I'll tell you what I was not going to do. I was not going to go home and try to fuck Ann. That was my belief on Thursday, and it continued to be so when I left the shop for home on Friday.

***

At 11:00pm or so on Friday, Ann knocked on the door of my bedroom. I was watching tv on the bed in sweatpants.

I hit mute on the tv. "Come in!"

She opened the door. She was in a white tank top with just orange panties underneath, but she was looking pretty freakin' terrified.

"Ann! What the..."

"Someone's in the back yard. I think it's Kenny." The minute she said the words, she started crying.

Training kicked in for me. "Shut off the lights and close the door."

She did. I walked over to the window and peeked through the blinds. "Tell me."

Through sobs, she said, "I was reading and I heard something hit my window and I got up and looked and I think it was him and I heard him say something and his face was just...fuck, I'm so sorry!"

I saw him down there. It was fucking Kenny.

"Ann, get in the bed. Get under the covers. Don't leave. Don't turn on the lights."

I stepped into our closet. Fifteen seconds later, I stepped out armed.

Ann's eyes widened.

"Don't worry. Just a precaution. Last resort kinda thing."

She nodded, sniffled.

"Got your phone with you?"

She nodded.

"Have 911 ready. When I come back, I'll say...I'll say 'Alaska' and you'll know it's me."

I closed the door and left. As silently as I could, I went downstairs. I made sure every door was locked, and then I sneaked through the hall, into the garage, and out the back door of the garage. Kenny was across the back patio from me, scrounging around for pebbles to throw at Ann's window. I could hear him mumbling some shit. He was going to be there for a little bit, hadn't given up yet.

I needed to find his car; it would tell me where he was headed if he lit out. I stalked away from him along the back of our garage and then crossed over to the neighbor's house. Clear from Kenny's view, I ran around to the street and looked up our hill. There she was! Kenny's beloved truck.

I ran over to it, took out my knife, and worked a small hole in the right front tire by screwing the tip of the blade into it with just a little bit of pressure, just like drilling a hole. Took about a minute before I heard the air leaking out. I widened it. Kenny's escape route was cut off.

I circled around our next door neighbor's house and something caught my eye. An idea formed. I grabbed a bucket and kept closing in on Kenny.

Finally, I had worked my way into our back yard, and there he was, looking up at Ann's window. I stayed low and crept up behind him.

I actually couldn't tell if he was drunk of not. I rose up and lifted the bucket I had seized in the neighbor's yard, and then I dumped it over Kenny's head.

Kenny screamed and spun around, but he couldn't see anything; he had a big five-gallon bucket on his head. I kicked him in the nuts. He groaned and plopped to the ground. If he had been thinking of doing something nasty, it was over now.

"Okay, Kenny, breathe it out. Breathe it out."

After a few seconds, he took the bucket off his head and groaned, "What in the fuck is this shit?"

"Its..."

"Is this dog shit?"

"Yeah."

"Son of a fucking bitch!" The people next door have a little dog and they collect all the shits he takes on walks. They put it in that bucket and compost it for their garden. "Aw, my fucking nuts."

Kenny was defeated and he knew it, so I asked, "Hey, did you think I was gone?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Someone told me Jen left town. I figured you guys went on a trip or something."

"Come on, let's go."

"Did you have to use dog shit? Fuck!"

"Come on. Now." I walked him back to his truck. He shuffled along like a prisoner in chains.

"Kenny, I don't know if you have a chance with Ann again, but shit like this? It is not going to help. Give her some space; let her decide."

"Right, like you know anything about it."

"You ok to drive?"

"Whatever, dude." He climbed in, shut the door, and started it. Then, he rolled down the window and told me to fuck off.

He drove up the hill and out of sight before he figured out about the flat. I heard him curse.

***

"Alaska!"

I heard Ann jump out of bed and open the door. "Was it him? Is he gone?"

"It was him. He's gone."

"Oh, my gosh! I was so scared."

"It's over."

***

"I've got to text this to Jen. Dog shit, really?" I nodded, smiling. Ann burst out laughing. She had, sadly, put on some shorts. "That is so fucking awesome! Do you think she's up?"

"Try. I don't know. I talked to her around ten."

Ann started texting Jen. "Oh, my gosh, you are the best!"

"You want a drink?"

"Fuck, yes. I'm still shaking. How are you so calm? You just went outside with a gun." She hit send.

I shrugged. "Marines."

"I'm never going to sleep tonight. I'm never going to fucking sleep again."

I grabbed a bottle. "This stuff will help. Some guy gave this to me after I redid his kitchen. Pretty good."

I poured two doubles of this stuff—Scotch, on ice. We drank.

I said, "Sorry about your troubles, but I'm going to sleep like a baby."

"I know. Jen says you're like a rock."

I shrugged. "Hear back from her yet?"

Ann checked. "No."

"She's in bed," I said, and then, I got an idea. And I ran with it.

Over the next half hour or so, Ann kept asking about the incident, and I kept telling her what I could. Women like the nitty-gritty stuff, I've found. They ask all kinds of fucking detailed questions. Anyways, we kept talking and drinking.

She had two, and she was happy. As for me, she thought I had four. In truth, I had about two. I kept pouring some of mine out when she wasn't looking. Sorry, Scotch-boys, I wasn't thinking about the fucking drink; I had an idea.

So, Ann thought I was pretty lit, but it was an act.

I walked her upstairs, and she hugged me good night.

I went to my room and made a quick, but very critical phone call. Then I got in bed, naked, leaving plenty of space on the side of the bed near the door, which I had left open.

***

I didn't have to wait long. Ann came into my bedroom maybe 15 minutes after we had said goodnight. I was pretending to be asleep.

She tried to wake me. She tried harder, and then she was silent for a minute. She must have been debating.

And then, she slipped under the covers.

I was doing my best to simulate the rhythmic breathing of a sleeper. I did this for about five-six minutes, and then, when Ann shifted her position, I came to.

"Jen, what time is it?" I tried to sound groggy and disoriented.

"Oh, my gosh! It's Ann. I'm sorry. I was scared. Please don't kick me out."

"Jen, I love you babe." I said it like I was in some dream. My eyes stayed closed as I reached out and put my hand on Ann's thigh. It was so small and firm and soft.

She let it stay. "No, It's Ann. It's Ann! Can you hear me? It's not Jen. I'm not Jen."

"Jen, you are the best," I mumbled, and I scooched closer. I heard her sit up in bed, and I started thinking I'd blown it. Then she shook me a whole bunch.

"Wake up! Wake up!"

"Jen, geez, stop. Just fucking relax," I finally uttered. Ann laid down with her back to me.

I started rubbing her back through her shirt. She let it happen.

"You are so sexy, Jen, so beautiful." I put my hand on her ass. It was as perfect as anything I'd ever felt, even with the shorts on. My cock hurt, it was so hard.

"Jen," I mumbled, "Jen."

She turned over. "It's Ann. I'm Ann."

We were both on our sides, facing each other a few feet apart. I took her hand and put it on my dick. She must not have expected me to be naked. She gasped softly. "See what you do to me, Jen?"

She didn't pull away. She just held it like she was thinking, deciding. Her hand moved over my cock. Her hand is smaller than Jen's, and I could feel the light scrape of those long fingernails. She was exploring my dick with her fingertips. Gauging it. She touched lightly in places—the head, the shaft, the bottom, my balls, the underside. Her fingers were so gentle. Then, she started caressing it, sliding her fingers along its length.

I mumble, "Jen, will you just kiss it a little?"

She whispered, "I...I can't."

I said, "Please, Jen, just a little."

Silence.

"Just suck on the tip a little."

Silence.

"Jen, please."

And then the sheets moved. Ann's caresses stopped, and she scooted down the bed under the covers. I waited for it. I could sense where her head was, where her mouth was, and she took hold of my cock more firmly, and I knew her lips were so close to the tip.

She kissed it. Then, her lips wrapped around the head. They were soft and wet and gentle. I felt her tongue under the tip. It moved rhythmically and her lips alternately puckered and relaxed, as if she were French kissing the head of my cock. This went on for some time, and then, she stopped.

I waited, expecting to hear the sheets move and feel her come back up to me. I thought about my next move. Nothing was coming to me.

She did move, but not up to me. I felt the sheets pulled off, and I hazarded a squinting glance. She was on her back, knees up, feet down. She pushed her hips up and slipped off her shorts and panties.

She rolled back towards me on her side, her head still at the level of my cock. She lifted her top knee a little. Her bottom arm was extended down toward her crotch. Her top arm came around, and the hand grasped my cock.

I felt tiny movements through the mattress. She was fingering herself. She breathed out a moaning whimper, and then she took the head of my dick in her mouth again.

The French kissing down there resumed, and Ann rubbed herself. I loved how she moaned into my dick. I loved how she worked the head of it with her wet mouth, lips, and tongue. The tip never left her mouth, but there was definitely a sense of pressure and release, pressure and release. I loved how firmly she grasped the shaft and how slowly she tugged it. I loved how there was a rhythm to the whole act: tug, suck, moan...tug, suck, moan.

Ann got louder, and I couldn't hold back. This was a moment that my precious little ideas hadn't considered. If I had been awake and it was Jen, I'd give her a warning, and then she'd jerk it out into her hands. But I didn't think I could give Ann a warning without showing her I was conscious. Should I say something?

And what about the sheets? There would be come all over them. When I "woke up" or whatever, how would Ann explain that away, especially if she stayed in bed with me? Maybe she hoped I might think I had a wet dream or something, I don't know. If not, was she really prepared to just have an open affair with her brother-in-law?

It felt so fucking good that I didn't give a shit about any of it. I figured she had a plan. Fuck knows I didn't.

I think she could tell I was ready. My breaths were coming harder and faster. And, I couldn't help it; I started to groan. And the moment came. Ann tugged, sucked, and moaned. What the fuck was she going to do? Tug, suck, moan. Ann, it's now. It's right fucking now! And then I felt something I had never in my life felt before.

I felt Ann suck the cum out of my cock and swallow it. Her lips never left the head. I pumped it and she took it. She moaned all through it. She got all of it. I felt it when she gulped it down—a different kind of pressure from her lips and tongue. And I heard her swallow it. She kept on sucking that tip while she finished herself off.

I listened to the sound of her orgasm, and I had never been more satisfied. No girl had ever completely finished me with a blowjob. There had been some close calls, but never had it been every-last-drop-and-let's-make-sure-there's-no-more-hiding-in-there. Not until Ann.

I felt like fucking laughing or jumping out of the bed and roaring, "Fuck, yeah!" But, I had to pretend I was sleeping, and that, maybe was the only thing that took away from the sheer fucking joy I felt.

Ann was coming down, but my dick was not softening. She let go of the shaft with her hand and let the tip slip out from between her lips. Ann just laid there, breathing softly, my still hard dick resting on her cheek.

I thought about the phone call I had made, and I wondered if that had been the key.

I thought about Jen, and then decided to do that later.

I had another fleeting thought: what if I had met Ann first, and not Jen? Then I really did fall asleep.