My Niece Needed a Loan

For the last 12 months I have been the perfect husband. I'd been a good provider who handled chores around the house. I listened to how her day had gone, what she was up to, and bought her little presents.

I don't deserve a medal, because the prior three years I was banging my niece.

Some may have not read the first three installments of "My Niece Needed a Loan." You might know how is sampled nearly all of her womanly attributes in any number of sensual situations. I couldn't help myself. I'm a guy, and when my niece Jessica and her no good husband had a series of financial problems I jumped to their aide.

It was help over the objections of my wife, who knew Jessica and her husband had gotten into the said financial problems because of drugs and drinking. So I couldn't overtly help. Then an opening came up I couldn't refuse. Jessica was willing to do just about anything to get a loan. And boy did she mean anything.

The provocative photos came first. I loved the one with her panties down her spread legs, neatly trimmed bush leading to wide open snatch. But what made the photo was her smile and the fact her legs were wide and apparently keeping the panties from falling to the ground. Another photo showed a cock, my cock but only my meat was in the photo, seemingly pressed on her ruby red lips.

After that photo shoot I "lent" Jessica enough money to pay back the mortgage deficiency and several bills. She was pretty regular with her repayments; but, quite frankly, it wasn't what I truly wanted. I wanted her to miss payments, which invariably she did. That led to several wonderful toe-curling blowjobs, several cum-evoking fucks and general debauchery as I insisted the girl pay her interest the way I wanted.

Jessica was asked to perform many things my lovely wife wouldn't allow me to do. I was able to spank her ass and snap provocative photos for my private collection and a few which made their way onto the Internet with a blurred face. A couple time I convinced her that cumming on her face was allowable, and she fell for it. Damn that was hot, her sucking me off, me pulling out and stroking myself. She would kneel there, anticipating, and soon she was rewarded with spurt after spurt of everything I had pent up.

Marvelous!

Yes, she not only repaid the money in full over time but also served as my dream girl for that time.

The thing is she was appreciative of what I did for her. I know, I know, it was playing with fire. If my wife found out it would have been curtains, but we took steps to ensure that did not happen. And, after a rocky start, I think Jessica actually liked what we were doing. I mean if she didn't, why did I get a couple blow job s after all the debt was repaid?

Anyway, there was a soft spot in my heart for the girl and I was really happy they were back on their feet. Seemingly her husband got his act together and away from drugs, and her job seemed more secure. To the family, my influx of cash was thought to be a small lottery win. That was the story and Jessica stuck too it. And while I knew better, I wasn't telling anyone!

Since the affair I'd been a great husband. I'd listen to my wife, really listen. I'd do everything I could to make her happy. Oh, our sex life was still a couple times of through the motions rutting each month, but I got used to it. As least she didn't file her nails while I was doing the deed.

It was at my nephews' soccer game when I found out lightening does indeed strike twice.

My wife Cheryl's sister, Marsha, and I were walking along watching her son stumble around the soccer field. Away from prying eyes, Marsha said that her husband Tom had lost his job and they were struggling. They needed a little help until he was back on his feet. Empathizing, I said I'd try and hook him up with something, I had lots of contacts, and she was appreciative. She asked if we could get coffee the next day, which seemed really odd. But I agreed.

Admittedly, it was a little strange that Marsha wanted to speak with me. We'd always b been at odds for something or another. She criticized me for spending summer Saturday's away from the family and on the golf course ("Tom would never leave us alone") or for my awful yard work ("Tom keeps things so nice, everyone in the neighborhood is impressed") or even my job ("Tom would never allow his boss to send him on so many trips").

There was no pleasing her as far as I was concerned. Still, she was family, so meeting her was the right thing to do. They were going through tough times, apparently, so why not listen to her story.

The next day we met and made small talk, I gave her some names for Tom to call, and also some advice on some odd jobs he could do for some people in our development if he was so inclined. Finally, my sister-in-law Marsha cut to the chase.

"We are in a world of financial trouble. I lied to you, he didn't recently lose his job, and it's been months. It's getting to be difficult to handle, and the calls, they are all days and night. I pay Peter, and then rob Paul. If I take care the mortgage, the credit card bills don't get taken care of. I need a loan, Rob, I can't take the late collector calls and all that stuff. I need five grand quickly."

She talked about the bills, the calls from the credit companies, the missing mortgage payment, the home equity loan that did pay bills but now couldn't be paid. Yada, yada, yada.

Looking at her as if she was an alien being, I laughed. "I would like to help you, but I don't have that kind of juice!"

Marsha stared at me, then surprised. "You can it for that tramp Jessica. And if you know what is good for you, you will have it for me. Or else."

I was shocked. Or else? She was demanding money, threatening me?

"I don't know what you are talking about, Marsha, I think it's time for this conversation to end."

Marsha glared at me, calculating her response. She gave a sly smile. "I know you were fucking her, she's such a slut. And if you want Cheryl to divorce you and get everything, then you will not cross me right now. Here's the deal, you can give me some cash and we will forget about this."

I laughed in her face, worried in my brain it wasn't wise, but I did it anyway.

"Do you honestly believe what you just said? Do you think you can blackmail me? Are you out of your mind? Your mind is warped somehow. Goodbye."

I spat my response and walked away.

Before I could get to my car it was the phone. Cheryl. Screaming at me. I hung up on her.

I did call Jessica and quickly got to the point. Did she ever say a word to Marsha? "Absolutely not, your secret is my secret, Uncle Rob."

Ah ha, a deranged woman that Marsha was. Making up stories about me. Blabbing to my wife. This too shall pass?

* * * *

The good news is Cheryl realized her sister was grasping at straws with her accusations. And with Jessica swearing she hadn't said anything, well, things quieted down. Cheryl was pissed at her sister, but then began to weaken. The kids, the house, the threat of them moving to an apartment, of short-selling their house.

"Can't we help Marsha?" asked my wife over dinner a week after the spat.

I couldn't believe my ears. My wife would not give my niece a dime, yet she wanted to help her sister out of their self-made jam.

"I guess we could spare a couple hundred dollars, but really, times are tight," I replied, promising to get the cash the next day. "But it's a loan, right?"

The next night my cell rang, with Marsha thanking me for the $500. "It's a start, but thanks."

Her husband was still out of work, and from what I heard, not looking. Marsha was working a side job as well as her regular one. "We are behind on all our payments, the mortgage, the credit cards, the car. I don't know what I am going to do."

It struck me she didn't complain about her husband, nor had she apologized for her squealing to my wife about Jessica. I just knew, though, that I had a long memory. That was evident a month later at a family gathering when Marsha asked to speak with me and asked for another loan.

I told her no, but that I'd see if I could come up with something.

"I'm begging you, Rob, please help. We're going to lose the house if we don't come up with money. I sold the riding mower and some of his tools. I even signed by collection of old pitchers. The banks won't front us, and while the family has pitched in we are well short. Please."

Smiling to myself, I formulated my plan that would be helped along by her desperation, one that I hoped to hatch soon. That ass would be mine.

* * * * *

I let things simmer a few days before meeting with Marsha.

Once again she cried the blues. She told horror stories of creditors, of husband's lack of work, a story that was sad but, well, unsolved unless serious bucks were there to help her out. We talked about that. She talked about desperation.

In the end, I merely asked "How far are you willing to go for a large loan. What was she willing to putt on the line? How about her ass?" She slapped me. But she didn't leave.

Looking me up and down, her mind whirled and her eyes darted.

"Just give me some money and I won't tell Cheryl that you are a jerkoff," said my sister=in-law.

Neither of us gave an inch. I said no money was left to pass her way, maybe a couple hundred at the end of the money. She spoke of desperation.

We continued the conversation for a while. I told her of a "friend" who he helped out a Fuck Buddy. She'd be nice to him and he'd help out with the bills. "Maybe we could work something out!"

She shook her head no, but the longer we spoke she realized I wasn't budging from my innuendo demands.

Finally, she sighed. "I couldn't sleep with you, but probably just about anything else for the loan. I need the money badly. Was that your deal with Jessica, or did she jerk you off? I bet that little tramp was fucking you?"

Marsha was really pissing me off but I knew she'd be a tough nut to crack. Yet door was open and the negotiations began. But first I laid out the facts. She was in trouble, big trouble.

I might be able to help. And, oh yes, I had never done anything with my niece, other than give her emotional support and occupational guidance. I was willing to do the same for her if she'd like. Boy could I weave a tale to get some tail.

Marsha was terrified of the bill collectors, of losing her house. I think she actually believed that I hadn't banged my niece. That's a secret that had to be kept.

In the end, she'd signed a paper that said that, in three years, if she hadn't paid me back, she would be mine for a night. One where she'd be an expensive whore. She said it would never get there. She'd work overtime. Her husband would get a job, and they'd repay the loan.

There were a few conditions, though. I'd have to get the cash. That wouldn't be easy, but there were ways. And she'd have to give a down payment and pay interest along the way. Fair, I believed. Oh and to make sure of things, I'd want a couple provocative photos to ensure she'd not cry foul of some form in the future.

"No way, no pictures."

I smiled a devious smile and said there would be no loan.

"Whatever, asshole. Whatever."

She walked away in a huff, but was soon back. "When the loan is repaid, and it will be, I get the photos back...negatives too."

Of course...I expected her request and quickly agreed. My niece had the same request, and I still had those photos. Soon I'd have similar ones of Marsha, and I think I'd get the exact same poses!

My final condition was that we have a sort of truth game, where I'd ask questions and she'd have to be truthful with her answers. Sort of a 10 questions game. She agreed. I could tell she really wanted the money badly, enough to drop her guard a bunch.

We made a "date" to get together the following weekend. She'd escape from her house to go food shopping and come over while her sister was getting her hair done. Simple plan, and if Cheryl came home it would be Marsha's visit and nothing more.

* * * *

Cheryl left at 9:30 and it wasn't long before Marsha arrived at 10. I didn't see any need to beat around the bush. I made sure I locked the door behind her.

"Let's get this over with. Do you have the cash?"

Damn, it was like a drug deal or something. I nodded yes and Marsha sat on the sofa.

My first question was simply often did she and her husband do the nasty?

She stared at me, but after a short hesitation she took a deep breath and then she replied. "Twice a month, give or take. Usually Saturday nights."

I asked if she blew him. She simply said, "No, that's disgusting."

That was a question I knew the answer to, as Cheryl said her sister hated even the idea of giving oral sex. And I really believe that Marsha not blowing her asshole husband that it spilled over and empowered Cheryl to go down on me less and less.

I wondered if they ever did it away from the bedroom. "It has been years, but yes. We did it at Clayton Park once, next to the golf course, and another time at his work. Before we got married we did it in the car a lot."

Had she ever cheated on her husband? "Absolutely not."

Does she own a vibrator and does she use it?

"Yes, two, and sometimes when I need to I do."

The questions were personal, but not too personal. Until I hit on some sore subjects.

Do you like anal sex? "No, you pervert."

What would you rather do, watch someone have sex or be watched having sex? "Neither."

My questions soon were answered and it was time for some provocative photos for my collection.

She was compliant, as if resigned to the task.

The first photos were R rated. Upskirt shots, photos of her going up the stairs and sitting at a desk. Of course the camera caught more than the naked eye. Panties and thighs, nervous faked smiled.

Soon we escalated the action. I posed her in the arm chair, her legs wide but holding her panties apart between them. Wow, she had a hairy bush!

I took several of those shots, including one with her panties dangling off one leg. Another she was pointing to her pussy. The most embarrassing one was her sitting with eyes closed, mouth open and tongue out, and my cock just inches away.

It took some doing to get her to allow this shot, but it was perfect. She appeared to me licking it from the shot, and I loved it. I tried to pose her in the same positions I had posed Jessica and later when I compared them I had gotten pretty close. How hot is that?

She reminded me she wanted all the photos when the loan was paid back. I agreed, handed her an envelope with the cashed, and hoped she couldn't meet the interest payments.

* * * *

Four months later we met at a local coffee shop. I had given her a 30 day grace period, but today she said she didn't have the cash for the first repayment.

"Times are so very tough. The calls from collectors keep coming. Tom still hasn't found work, and I just don't have the money. If pay you back, I can't pay the bills."

Reminding her of our agreement was easy, getting her to pay some non-cash interest was a lot harder.

"I bet Cheryl would not be happy to hear about the loan and how you are blackmailing me," said Marsha, a smug look on her face. "She wouldn't like it!"

Nodding, I agreed. "But I think your principal would probably enjoy the photos of you licking my cock. Or better yet, maybe the senior boys who are over 18. They'd like to see a MILF like you in action."

"You bastard. You wouldn't dare."

Simply staring at her, I let her mind wander before responding.

"Marsha, we had an agreement. I went to a lot of trouble and effort to get the money for you, and this is what I get? I am in big trouble if you don't repay me. So if that's what it's going to be, the photos will be emailed to not only your boss but also friends. Hell, may I will just leave some at the principal's office for the secretaries to see, or maybe put on the windshields in the parking lot...your choice."

The woman hemmed and hawed and ultimately came around to my thinking. I'd keep the photos private. She'd help me out a little.

A little while later we were in my car parked by Sunset Lake. I parked way down the end, totally away from traffic driving past and far enough down from the entrance to get presentable in a hurry if we needed to do so. She reminded me of our deal.

"I will jerk you off, but this is between us, right. Nobody will know. And you will put on a, uh, condom, so I don't have to actually "touch" you. Right?"

Absolutely. That was the deal. My sister-in-law was going to jerk me off, right there in the park. Oh, yes, I agreed to a rubber so that she'd be able to say with certainty she'd never touch my cock. Sort of like the former president's saying he didn't have sex with that woman. It's all about the definition, and she really wasn't going to actually touch me. Hopefully my dick wouldn't know the difference.

Getting down to business, I unzipped my pants and lowered them and my boxers just enough to get my dick out into the open but able to be pulled up quickly just in case. Marsha looked away as I got ready for her hand action, but I was having none of that.

"Watch me," I demanded. "It will help me get hard." Actually I was hard already, but still she looked as I stroked my cock. "Open your blouse." "That wasn't part of the deal..."

"Do it," was my firm reply. "It will help get me off quicker."

She opened her blouse and exposed her lace light blue bra. Wow.

I looked at her beauties and my dick twitched. This was great! Good old sis-in-law had nice tits. Reminded me of her sister's tits, only a little smaller.

Rolling down the rubbed on my cock I noticed she was now watching intently each of my actions. "Do you like what you see?"

Looking away, she spat, "No dammit, no I don't. I hate you for making me do this."

Whatever. I wasn't the one who would be jerking me off in a car in a public parking lot.

After a short eternity she reached over and tentatively began playing with my dick. She was clearly not practiced, and I knew she'd need help. "Do you have any hand lotion, or something slick?"

She reached into her purse and coated her hand and the result was immediately felt. Her hand began gliding up and down my twitching cock. While not massage girl talent, it did feel okay. And after I asked her to put something moist on her hand -- she had some hand cream in her purse --- the stoking motions and sensations not only improved but became intense.

Soon I was rocking my midsection to the tune of her hand job.

At first Marsha would stroke while her head bobbed around ensuring no prying eyes were nearby.

After a bit of this she realized that the hand job lost a little when she was looking around, so she concentrated on the task after ordering me to look out. It was clear she was going to get me off and get it over with as quickly as she could, which didn't bother me in the least. Her hand was seriously stroking now, and the sensations were very, very nice. I watched as her boobs shook while she stared at my bulging cock.

Out of the corner of my eyes I saw an older gentleman walking his dog and started to pull away, only to figure he would understand if he saw us. What guy wouldn't? So I let my sister-in-law stroking while I savored her stroking. I only missed a little beat when I saw he could see us. The guy did a double take from maybe 40 yards away as I put my finger in front of my mouth to shush him. He gave me the thumbs up!

Knowing he deserved a treat, I reached under Marsha's bra, lifting it up. He caution flew into the wind when I told her I'd cum quickly with just a little more help. So there she was, in the front seat of my car, bent toward my cock with her twin beauties exposed.

I felt them as she stroked my cock off with the older guy watching. He's maneuvered a little closer, out of her view of course, and smiled at the scene. He stood there, watching me get jerked off in a parking lot. Smiling.