There is something about sisters in law, it is a worldwide phenomenon, and they are all sexy.
Drake's sister in law was no less. Nancy was small, like his wife, demure, with frizzy hair and a sharp tongue. He would never have imagined ever holding her, kissing her or fucking her in real life, but he could fantasize her. That he did, whenever a fantasy was required, Nance, as she was called, was always there. In steamy bathrooms; in bed at night and even in his erotic dreams.
So when it happened it was as much a shock as a wonderful delight.
The crowd at his seminar, where he was lecturing was good and lively, a few of the women even made a flirtatious pass at him. His mind though, that afternoon, was a little on the evening that was to come.
Drake and Eliza, his wife had an open and sexually full life, they told each other their erotic dreams, and shared their fantasies. She had told him, if he a gets a chance, with her sister, to do it. Don't expect her to be a part of it, never let her know he was doing it, but he if he did, he would tell her and not make it into a relationship. Sex as long as it remained just sex, Eliza was okay with it.
The week when he was in Boston for the seminar, Nance too was in town, and it turned out without her husband Al, attending a course that finished this afternoon. Nance was attending a course in a hotel a few blocks from him. They would meet for drinks at the bar she had been to last night at six thirty.
He knew nothing would happen, but the prospect of sitting down with his sister in law, having a couple of drinks, eyeing her full figure, those nice full tits, that round tight ass was a something that was always pleasant. Before this he had always had his wife or her husband as company on such occasions when they went for drinks.
He ran up to his room, took a quick shower, changed into a light t-shirt and pants and he was pressing the elevator button to go down, his phone beeped.
'Will be in Lobby in 5 min.' the message said.
He smiled and nodded to the couple who were in the elevator as he got in. He was in the lobby when she came in. She was wearing a knee length skirt with flowers on it, a white blouse. Her hair must have been recently done; she had streaks of blonde in her normally brown hair. Her lips were done in her usual flaming red color. Her wide smile was contagious.
They shook hands, her palms, he noticed were a little moist, must be the Boston warmth, he thought, she had walked from her hotel here. He took her hand casually, holding her by the elbow and led her out. The bar they wanted to go to, a nightclub sort of place that played good music, was just a block away. He paid for their entry charges and they were shown to their seats. He was glad they had a good view of the dance floor, a nice place at the corner.
"Just a couple of drinks, please, Drake." She said.
"For starters, of course?" He smiled. She, he knew, was a good drinker, could have matched him or Al for any length of time, she had done so before, and he ordered her favorite, Margarita for her and a Martini for himself.
They talked about the seminar, there was an air of nervousness about their conversation, it seemed to start and stop, they finished their first drink and he ordered another round of same.
"Last one please."
"What's the matter Nance, you okay? Is there something bothering you?"
"No, not at all." She said, as the drinks arrived and she took more than half the glass in a gulp. She was not convincing either.
"Come on something is bothering you." He insisted.
She looked at him, her expressive brown eyes gave him the tingles, and she looked at him, her glass raised to her lips.
He raised his glass to her.
"If that is the way it is, Nance, just two drinks then, finish it and we go."
She finished her drink.
"You have no idea what happens to me when I get drunk do you?" She said taking a deep breath. "I get horny, I get flirty and slutty and mostly Al is there to guide me, take me home and fuck my brains off..."
"So you get horny and slutty after a couple of drinks, is that a bad thing?"
"Yes, it is, I may cross the line."
"What line is that?"
"You fucking well know what line I am talking about Drake, don't try to be an ass. Just get me another fucking drink."
He had noticed too that she was using the words fuck and fucking very easily, had not been a part of her vocabulary before.
He waved for the waitress to top up our drinks.
"Are you telling me that crossing any line, imaginary line, with me would be unpleasant?"
"Don't put fucking words in my mouth Drake. I never said unpleasant, and I would not be so nervous if I thought it was unpleasant."
The drinks arrived, he had finished his too.
There were a few couples dancing on the floor, a light slow music was being played, a black man was playing the saxophone, a young girl was giving him company with violin.
"Let us dance." He said and took her hand and pulled her to the floor. The held each other, both average dancers, and began to gyrate to the music. Her face began to flush, her eyes got a little smoky. He pulled her closer; her tits brushed against his chest, his cock began to throb in his pants. He was glad he was wearing snug underwear. She took a sharp breath as his hand went to her lower back. He was itching to move downward, to grab her ass, but he dared not.
The music stopped and he saw the sense of relief on her face.
"One more drink and we will call it quits, okay?" He told her gently.
"Okay."
They ordered drinks.
