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Sister Hot, Wife Not

By: hobrigef



1.

I thought I was happily married (no, I WAS happily married) until quite recently. Janet and I had been together a long time (sixteen years and counting, married for twelve) and things were still fine. Ok, so we'd both turned forty the year before last, and the sex had become more occasional than occasion, but that's normal, right? In any case, our careers took precedence, this was always the deal and we were cool with it. Same reason there were no children. Same reason we had money, a fancy BMW, lived in a nice house with a large garden in a high-end suburb. When I say 'careers' I mean mine really, my wife wasn't overly ambitious, but the point is we both enjoyed our jobs; me a corporate lawyer, Janet a secretary at a small accounting practice. 

All good. 

So what happened? Why am I now living alone in this dump with my life in pieces? It's quite a story. A dark little tale, to be sure, but one I think ought to be told. Might even help. Yeah, let's spit it out. What happened? There's a short and a long answer to that and I'll give you the short one first. A single word will suffice. 

Jessica.

It started one day last summer, a Saturday afternoon. Janet took a call and came back grinning. I looked up from the game I was watching on TV. "Who was it, darling?"

"Jess."

"Ah." It figured. Jessica had lived in Hong Kong the last five years (the bank she worked for had seconded her there and she liked it so much she'd stayed on). With no other siblings, parents no longer around, the sisters were close (despite the geography) and kept in regular contact.

"And guess what, Mark?"

"What, darling?" I still had half an eye on the TV.

"She's coming back!"

"Oh really? Great. About time too. Hasn't been over for ages, has she?"

Which was true. Jessica's last visit, a fleeting one, had been over two years ago. All I remembered of it was that the three of us had gone out for lunch and I'd felt a bit ignored, left out, as the sisters caught up. ALL I remembered? Well, no, if I'm honest: I also recall that Jessica wore a short, figure-hugging dress, looked sexy in it, and that I struggled not to lech at her the whole time. A struggle I only partially succeeded in (couldn't help the odd longing glance ... jeez, it WAS a rather low cut dress!) but thankfully the sisters were concentrating on each other and didn't notice. I'm sure Janet didn't anyway, there'd have been an 'atmosphere' later if she had. Jessica? Mmm, harder to say. No, don't think so. If she did she obviously didn't mind - our 'goodbyes' were warm and unforced. In fact more so than usual. Although I'd always secretly fancied her (she was a gauche but gorgeous eighteen when I'd first been introduced by Jan as 'my fiancé') my relations with Jess up to that point had been what you'd call cordial, our infrequent meetings book-ended by a smile and a peck on the cheek, but this time I got a wide grin ("Really nice to see you again, Mark!") and she leant in close, put her lips just to the side of my mouth, let them linger a moment as she slipped her hands around my waist and squeezed me before pulling away. Brief, yes, and nothing you'd call inappropriate, but definitely a 'kiss' not a 'peck'. 

"No, for good, I mean," said Janet, interrupting my ignoble train of thought.

"What, coming back to live? Leaving Honkers?"

"Yep."

I was surprised. "Thought she loved it over there."

"She does, but it's a big promotion apparently. Head Office job." No surprise this time, I knew that Jess was something of a high-flyer at the bank. "What about Eric?" I asked. (Eric was the guy her sister currently lived with.)

"Not coming."

"Oh."

Janet shrugged. "She was bored with him anyway. You know how Jess is with men. Use them and lose them!" This was no lie. My wife's glamorous little sister was a notorious heartbreaker. I'd heard chapter and verse on her antics from Janet over the years. I'd always found it quite amusing but my wife disapproved. Or seemingly disapproved might be more accurate: I sometimes suspected that Jan got a vicarious kick from tales of Jessica's 'wild side' (perhaps because Janet herself had gotten increasingly staid over the years). There's a full decade age gap between the sisters - Jess is only 31 -- and it shows. 

"Poor Eric," I smirked. "So when she's moving?"

"Next week."

"Wow," I said, thoughts drifting again back to that last time, the farewells outside the restaurant. The feel of Jessica's soft lips on the corner of mine, her luxuriant dark wavy hair brushing against my neck, the seductive smell of her perfume, her hands resting on my hips, the tantalising dress ... how it really showed off her body ... the scene had stayed with me ever since and I often replayed it (with endless steamy variations as to continuance and conclusion) whenever I felt horny or WANTED to feel horny. I'm sorry to say that Janet, my wife, had disappeared from my masturbatory reveries long before. Difference now was who DID feature in the starring role. It was goodbye Claudia, Megan, Naomi et al ... sundry other unattainable hotties from celebrityville ... and hello sexy sister! But all totally innocent, right? And safe -- Jess being on the other side of the world rendered her as out of reach as any of my other female objects of fantasy. Ok I felt a bit guilty sometimes, especially about pretending to myself that Janet was actually Jessica when I made love to her, but still, no harm. The opposite, in fact -- it spiced up the marital sex no end. Least for a while it did -- things had rather dropped off in that department in recent times. 

Not as if I was obsessed with Jessica or anything, please don't get that idea. Sure, I jerked off over her, used her as a mental aid to get frisky with Janet, but most of the time I didn't give her a moment's thought, just lived my life. I liked being married to Janet, sharing my life with her. We were good together. Mark and Janet Taylor. The Taylors.

And Janet's attractive too. Ok, she's not 'hot' like Jess, not a head-turner, but she's definitely not bad looking. Although to be brutally honest my wife had rather let herself go the last couple of years: not so much the lines and wrinkles, which were only to be expected on a woman the wrong side of forty, but weight appearing where it shouldn't -- unsightly flab around her middle, under her chin, on her face. She'd become, not to put too fine a point on it, a little dumpy. Janet is on the short side of ideal (she's five three) which unfortunately only served to emphasise the extra weight. When I say 'on the short side of ideal', of course I mean just in my opinion (these things being in the eye of the beholder). What IS (in my opinion) the ideal height for a woman? Six inches shorter than me, I'd say. I'm six foot exactly, so around five six. Pretty much Jessica's height, funnily enough. 

Any case, Jan's a very nice person. A lot nicer than her sister actually. Jessica is one of those women who's very aware how pretty she is, if you know what I mean, likes all the male attention she gets, plays up to it. She's quite a frivolous sort too (despite the big banking career), always buying clothes and going off to have facials or a new haircut or get her nails done ... all that 'girly' stuff. Don't get any of that with Janet. Janet's grounded and mature. Like I say, we were compatible. She even likes sports. Try talking to Jess about sports and her eyes'll glaze over in two seconds flat.

"That's ok with you, darling, isn't it?" Janet was looking expectantly at me. 

"Um, sorry, Hun?"

"Really, it's like talking to myself, Mark, sometimes!" 

I gave her my sheepish look (it worked: a tolerant smile now from my wife) and I turned the TV off. "Sorry, darling, yes. All ears. So what was that again?"

"Jess staying with us until she gets a place sorted."

"Oh right. Yes ... yes, darling, of course. That's great. Well, not great, but it's fine with me. Absolutely no problem." I looked and sounded quite calm as I said this but my heart was pounding and my palms were suddenly a little clammy. Guess I knew, deep down, that having Jessica around the house 24/7 was going to prove a bad idea. It would have looked terribly strange for me to have said no -- to say to Janet, "Nope, sorry, tell her to find a hotel." -- but believe me when I tell you that if I could wind back the clock to this very moment that's precisely what I WOULD have said and hang the consequences. They couldn't have been worse than what ended up happening. "Brilliant!" said Janet, and she gave me a big kiss. "Shouldn't be more than a month or so. Six weeks max. Now, look, she's arriving Tuesday afternoon but I've got my dentist's appointment, remember?"

I winced. "Double crown, Hun, right?"

"Yep, that's the one. So, darling, can you maybe take a half day and go meet Jess at the airport? Then bring her back here and kind of get her settled in?" I thought about it for a moment. It'd be difficult because I had two very important meetings on Tuesday afternoon. Be much better if I left a key somewhere safe and Jessica got a cab to the house, settled HERSELF in. Yes, that was definitely the way to go -- and I knew Janet wouldn't mind.

"Sure, Hun, I can do that. Just write me down the flight details and I'll be there."

2.

I met her plane (it was on time) and she came through pushing a couple of big suitcases on a trolley. She looked a bit mussed up from the long flight, was clad in track suit bottoms and baggy sweatshirt (no little 'fuck me' dress this time), nevertheless my immediate thought was, yep, gorgeous as ever. When she spotted me she abandoned the trolley and ran the last few paces. She jumped into my arms, kissed my neck, gave me a long hug. I reciprocated and we stood embracing for quite some time. It was almost like we were lovers rather than brother-sister -- a flight of fancy I rather enjoyed but quickly snuffled out. I had no intention of going there. Or did I? Truth is I'd left the office far earlier than was necessary and I'd used the time to go home and get showered and changed (carefully: best jeans, designer shirt, favourite shoes, touch of cologne bla bla) before coming to the airport. I'd made an effort to look my best, in other words. Made an effort for Jessica. Got my reward too. "Mark, you look fab!" she exclaimed, looking me up and down approvingly. I smiled and shrugged, felt absurdly pleased. "Not as fab as you," I told her. Jessica laughed. "Oh, c'mon. Nobody looks 'fab' after twelve hours on a plane." She was wrong but I didn't push it. Didn't want her to know exactly how attractive I found her even when she wasn't trying. I had a strong urge to tell her but I fought it back. The policy I'd settled on was 'secret crush' and it was a good policy. If only I'd stuck to it. "Not even me," she added. I caught the glint in her eye. Like I say, Jess isn't exactly unaware of her physical charms. I took the trolley and we made our way to the car, arms linked and chatting away inconsequentially. 

Jessica carried on talking on the drive back, me grunting now and again, trying to keep my eyes on the road. Not so easy to do (before getting in she'd pulled off the sweatshirt and is sitting next to me in what was underneath, a skimpy, spaghetti-strapped top which doesn't hide a great deal of her spectacular tits) but I manage most of the time. Couple of occasions she caught me looking but I sense she doesn't mind. I feel a bit embarrassed but then I get to thinking it through: Why should she? Why should she mind? If I made some sort of pass at her then, sure, being my wife's sister she'd have a right to be pissed, but just ogling her tits -- what's the big deal? She probably even likes it. Yeah, bet she does, I think (warming to the theme). I mean, top like that, tits half tumbling out, specially tits like hers, she must know the effect it's likely to have on a guy. So she must like it, right? She's a terrible tease when it comes to men, after all, Janet's always tut-tutting about that. Well ok, here she is teasing ME a little bit. Fine. Long as it doesn't get out of hand it's cool. Suitably emboldened, making only a token effort to hide what I'm interested in, I turn and treat myself to another little leer when we're on the next easy stretch of road. Glad I did because one of the straps on this top of hers (one nearest me) has slipped over her shoulder, it's actually slid right the way down her arm, and her top has fallen (gravity being a wonderful thing -- thank you Mr Newton!) such that I can glimpse pretty much the whole of one of her lusciously large breasts, nipple and all. I've got an erection now - a proper hard-on. Oh man. I'm transfixed and I end up staring (no, make that 'drooling') for too long. The car drifted into the wrong lane and I had to drag it back in response to one or two angry horn-honks. "Shit, sorry!" I muttered, red-faced. 

Jess is laughing. She's perfectly aware of what my 'problem' was right there. "No, Mark, it's me who should be sorry, I think. Shouldn't distract a man when he's driving, should I?" She pulled her top back into position (i.e. so it reveals merely oceans of cleavage). "There, is that better?" she grinned. "Are we safe now?" She's mocking me, but also being very affectionate. She seems totally at ease. Me, on the other hand, I'm all at sea. I'm feeling kind of stupid and excited and turned-on and embarrassed and anxious all at the same time. And I have a good half hour of this journey still to negotiate! 

We go quiet for a while and I concentrate on the road. 

"Anyway, it's so nice having YOU come to meet me," said Jessica, breaking the silence. "Such a pleasant surprise when I heard. We've never spent quality time together, have we? You know, without Janet getting in the way." I didn't know what to say to that, just cleared my throat nervously. Where was Jess going with this? 

I soon find out. She puts her hand on my thigh and leaves it there as I continue driving. It's enough: soon I'm tingling with arousal and my hard-on, temporarily snuffed by the car swerve, is back with a vengeance. Any doubt that my wife's little sister doesn't know exactly what she's doing here is removed when she begins squeezing my leg. I snatch a look and sure enough she's smiling at me, a sly and knowing expression on her beautiful face. Her hand creeps softly into my lap and comes to rest on the tell-tale bulge in my jeans. I feel her palm pressing firmly down on my erection. "Ooo, Mr Taylor, what have we here?" she giggles. I should stop her doing this, I know that, but I don't. I can't. It feels too good. Maybe if me and Janet hadn't been going through one of our less amorous phases, leaving me in a rather sex-starved condition, I wouldn't have been such an easy 'mark' (if you'll excuse the pun) for Jessica. Dunno. Probably I couldn't have resisted the sexy bitch in any case. What I do know is that this point here in the car is the time I SHOULD have halted things, should have stopped what was going on and tried to recover a semblance of normality. That I didn't, this was a crossing of the line and there was no going back. Because Jessica realises she has me under her spell and after that ... well after that it's just a matter of her deciding what games she wants to play, and how she wants to play them. Next thing I know, she's unzipped me and her fingers are inside my pants, gently squeezing, flesh on flesh. "Marky, are you ok driving in this condition? Sure we shouldn't pull over?" She sounds amused. "We'll be there in a few minutes," I grunt. (Big risk I'd be 'there' even sooner if Jessica kept this up!)

"Great. Better let you concentrate then." She gave my dick a final squeeze, then zipped me up and took her hand back to her own side of the car. "Poor thing," she grinned, seeing me flushed and panting. "Never mind ... home soon, right?"

I nodded.

"And we have the place to ourselves for a while, Mark, don't we?" 

"Yeah, we do," I blurted. She giggled.

When we got to the house there was only one thing I wanted -- NEEDED - to do and that was fuck Jessica senseless. Had to get the cases in first, though, so I did that, put them in her room, then we flopped down on the sofa in the lounge. It took all my willpower not to jump on Jess there and then (that top of hers was in a state of glorious disrepair again -- oh jesus, those tits!) but I managed not to. I figured that would be a bit 'caveman', which isn't how I like to think of myself. She wanted a coffee anyway ('wake me up' she said) so I went to the kitchen and made her one, came back and placed it in front of her on the table. She smiled. "Thanks, sweetie." Seeing that she'd made herself comfortable on the sofa, I took one of the armchairs. "So? How are we doing?" she said. It was obvious from her amused, insinuating expression what she was enquiring about. "Um, ok, I guess." I tried to hold her gaze but found myself staring (again) at her glorious jugs. Her top was more off than on. Jess raised an eyebrow, looked sceptical. "Oh really?"

I grinned, playing along. Fact is, as the lump in my jeans disclosed, I had a monster going on. Jessica knew this, of course. "Could have fooled me, Mr Taylor," she teased, looking ostentatiously at the evidence. She was enjoying herself and I was starting to too. Nothing seemed to matter at this point other than that me and Jessica were into each other and we were gonna make out. That she was my wife's sister, I'd pushed this right away, only aspects of Jess I was concerned with right now were: (1) she was drop-dead gorgeous, (2) I had an odds-on chance of getting to fuck her. My dick was driving the wagon, brain gone to mush. I was exactly and precisely how she wanted me, in other words. Jessica stretched out languorously on the sofa. "God, this feels good after that plane," she purred. The straps on her top had fallen completely loose and the top itself was struggling to stay on. I could see several inches of smooth torso and her glorious breasts were almost in full view. My tongue was hanging out. Oh jesus. 

"Janet's are quite small, aren't they?" The grin on my sister's lovely face was distinctly mischievous. 

It was true. Despite the recent regrettable deterioration my wife still had an ok figure (decent enough legs, for example), however her breasts weren't that exciting. Not something I liked to admit (and certainly not something I'd tell Janet) but I'd gotten more and more into large breasts on women as I'd grown older and that my wife wasn't well endowed in this area was one of the reasons (although by no means the only one) that her physical attraction had waned in my mind to the extent it had. Still, I said nothing. Didn't really want to discuss this with Jessica. Trouble is, she DID want to. "Yeah, I know," she went on, as if I'd agreed: "Janet's always been jealous of my tits. Told her a few times she should consider a boob job but she won't, says only 'bimbos' do that. What do you reckon, Mark? Do YOU think she ought to get a boob job?"

"That's totally up to her, Jess."

"Bet you'd like her to, though, am I right?" 

I stayed quiet. Jessica smirked and reached for her coffee. "What time's she back?"

"Not till six thirty."

She looked at her watch. "Let's see, nearly two hours. So what do you wanna do between now and then?

"I think you know what I want to do, Jess."

"Do I?" she flirted. She replaced her mug on the table and lay back on the sofa, one arm behind her head. With her other hand she was softly stroking her belly.

"Yeah. You do."

"What's that, Mr Taylor? Pray tell." Fuck, she was a little tease! 

"Oh come on, Jess." 

"No, tell me. Please. I'd like to know what you have in mind."

"Ok, I wanna fuck you. There. Happy now?"

She went all wide-eyed. "What, your wife's little sister? Isn't that illegal? Isn't that incest or something?"


Sister Hot, Wife Not



"Er no, Jessica, it isn't." I knew I had to play along if I was going to get where I wanted to be (which, for the sake of clarity, was inside her knickers). She giggled. "Suppose it's ok then. Or at least I'll consider it."

"Consider it?"

"Why, yes. What's the big rush? I'm gonna be living with you guys for a few weeks, correct?"

"Yeah, but ..."

"But what, Mark?"

"Well, you know, Janet's not here, and after that stuff in the car ..."

"Stuff in the car?"

"Yes, Jess, that stuff in the car. You teasing my dick half off. Remember?"

"Guess that really got you in the mood, uh?"

"You could say that, yes."

"Well I'm in the mood too," she smiled. "I've always fancied you, you know."

"You're kidding me!" I said, metaphorical chest puffing out. God, the bitch played me like a violin, she really did.

"Yeah, I have. Honestly. I want you just as much as you want me. It's just if we do it now, that'll be a bit cheap."

"Cheap? Why for heaven's sake?"

"Because a girl likes to be wooed before she falls into bed with a man. Likes to have the guy, you know, work for it."

"I have to work for it? How, Jess, exactly? You're my sister."

Jessica giggled. "The sister who's gonna be living with you for a while."

"Still, how do you mean? Like you want me to take you out and stuff? Lunch? That sort of thing?"

"Sure, that'd be nice. Not just that, I want other things too, but yes I'd love for you to take me out sometime. Remember that lunch we had last time I was over?"

"I do remember it, yeah."

"How you kept looking at me? You know, almost drooling?"

I smiled ruefully. "Was it that obvious?"

"Let's just say I could tell that Mr Taylor wished Mrs Taylor wasn't with us," smirked Jessica. I winced. "Ah."

"Hey, don't worry, sugar, I liked it. I loved having that effect on you. Like now. I'm having the same effect now, aren't I?"

"Too fucking right you are!" (Well, no point denying it, was there?) "Good," she grinned. "Because I still like it. I like it even more now I know we're gonna end up in bed soon."

"Soon?"

"Yes, Mark, soon. Not today, not tomorrow, maybe not even this week, but by the time I move out of here to my own place you and I are gonna be banging our brains out. And it's gonna be worth the wait, trust me." Hearing her talk like this was enough to send my desire for her off the scale! "So, sweetie, you carry on feeling this way about me, ok? Carry on looking at me like you are now, like you wanna rip my clothes off, concentrate on pleasing me while I'm here, and so long as you do all that we're gonna have a ball. Ok, Marky Mark?" 

I nodded. 

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes, Jess."

"How about a 'yes, Jessica'?"

"Yes, Jessica."

It's safe to say that Jess was calling all the shots here (and that was how it remained throughout the whole tawdry affair). She nodded, seemed satisfied with my response. Then she got up, grinning, and peeled off her tracksuit pants, tossed them on the floor. "No reason not give you a preview, though, is there? Seeing as we understand each other now." She slowly removed her top and discarded that too, leaving only her little lace knickers. "Does Mr Taylor want me to take these off too?" She was smiling wickedly. I didn't trust myself to speak. "Why doesn't he ask me then?" she pouted. 

"Please, Jess, take them off."

"'Jessica'," she admonished. Ah.

"Please, Jessica, please take your knickers off."

"Pretty please?"

"Please, please and pretty please."

"How about 'DARLING Jessica'?"

"Please, darling Jessica ... please please PLEASE." I knew I was debasing myself, begging like this, calling her 'darling', but I didn't care. All I wanted was to see the gorgeous bitch fully undressed. Finally she did it - she slid her panties down and kicked them off and stood naked in front of me. Giggling, she posed and preened for me for a while, then she lay back down on the sofa. "So, Mr Taylor, you know what I'd really love right now?" She was beckoning me over with her finger. I went and stood by the sofa, staring down at this vision from heaven. God, what a body! My cock was on fire! "What?" I croaked. "A nice massage," she purred. "No lotion, just your big strong hands. Can you manage that, baby?"

"Shit, yeah!" This wasn't as good as a fuck but it was pretty damn close. I knelt down by the sofa (thinking hang it, I'll start straight in with her tits) and I reached out my hands, placed one on each breast, and started to caress and fondle Jess's luscious bazookas. For about half a second ... until she called a halt, pushed my hands away. "Mark, what are you doing?" I was confused. "Er, giving you a massage. Like you said."

"A FOOT massage, sweetie, is what I meant. Obviously." She rolled her eyes.

A foot massage.

So I gave her one of those, shuffled on my knees to the end of the sofa and got busy with her feet. Meanwhile she'd retrieved her phone from her bag and was engrossed with that. She pretty much ignored me, just the occasional encouragement for my efforts: "Mmm that's nice, sugar, keep going." ... "My toes, don't forget my little tootsies, they need attention too." ... "Kiss them, baby, if you like. My toes love being kissed. Makes them feel all warm and happy." ... Etc. Can't say the experience (on my knees giving Jess a foot rub when she's lying there naked and every nerve and sinew in my body is screaming to fuck her) is that satisfying from my perspective, however I comfort myself with the sure fact I'm scoring points with her, doing this, and those points (as she'd made clear in our little chat earlier) can be cashed in before too long. The close-up sight of her fully and lusciously nude (when I can't touch) is cruelly tantalising but it also serves to stress how Jessica is worth waiting for. And 'working' for, as she'd put it. Yeah, I was happy enough. Nevertheless I was relieved when she finally told me to stop. She'd kept me at it for what seemed like ages and I was getting tired from kneeling there in the same position (shoulders were aching also). 

"So, my little foot slave, wifey's back at six thirty, right?"

"Yep."

"Ok, sweetheart, then you'd better finish up down there. I need to go unpack, take a shower, put some fresh clothes on. Don't want Janet seeing us like this, do we?" I levered to my feet and Jessica got up too. "How about a reward for being such a good boy?" she said and she kissed me. Kissed me properly. She draped her arms around my neck and pulled me in tight, pressed her naked body against me, and snogged my face off (tongues and all). She let me put my hands around the back (right on her lush, peachy ass) and pull her into me, let me squeeze her and grind my erection into her belly, let me do this till I was bucking and grunting and close to cumming in my pants, before she broke away in a fit of the giggles. I stood there crimson-faced and breathing hard. Sweating a bit too. "Damn it, Jess, I want you!"

"I know, baby. But remember what I said, yeah?" 

I nodded.

Jessica smiled. I got the impression I'd passed some sort of test. "Ok, I'm going up now. I really do need a shower. Hey, you wanna watch?"

"Watch?"

"Yeah, sweetie, watch. Watch me have a shower. You can make yourself useful. Hold the soap and the towel. Pat me down after. And my legs feel a bit dry -- need some cream on them."

"Um, okay."

"Brill! So, what are we waiting for?" She turned to walk from the room. "Oh and be a darling and bring my clothes up, Mark, will you?" I retrieved the pile from the floor (top, tracky pants, her trainers, her knickers) and I followed my naked sister out of the room and up the stairs. My eyes were locked on her glorious swaying ass every step of the way. 

3.

When Janet got back she found us watching television, Jessica curled in an armchair, me semi-sprawled on the sofa. Jess leapt up when Janet walked in. "Hey, big sister," she grinned. Janet was grinning too. "Jess, you look great!" Something of an understatement: Jessica, in tight, low-slung jeans and cotton tee-shirt (sans bra), was looking absolutely delicious. "You too, Jan," said Jess. Not quite so accurate -- my wife wasn't looking her best. A little weary and her work clothes, though smart enough, were on the dowdy side. Standing there next to Jessica didn't help. How was it that the (half) Spanish blood running equally in the sisters had endowed one with a dark and sultry beauty, but in the other only the merest trace of that? I tried not to dwell on the contrast but it was impossible not to, especially with the memory of Jessica in the shower less than an hour old. Oh god.

I got forgotten about as they hugged, greeted, exchanged affectionate banter. "And how's my darling husband?" smiled Janet, finally, turning to me. "Been taking care of my kid sister?"

"Um, yeah, course," I replied. "How was the dentist, honey?" I added quickly, keen to move on. "Fine," said Janet. "Didn't hurt a bit."

"Told you it wouldn't, didn't I?"

Janet smiled and plopped a kiss on my forehead. "Still, a relief to get it over with. Any case, enough about me and my teeth, let me take a shower and then how about we dial in some Chinese, the three of us? You guys haven't eaten yet, have you?"

"No, babe, we were waiting for you. And Chinese sounds great."

"Jess?"

Jessica, back in her chair, nodded vigorously. "Works for me, sis. Chinese is yummy! When you live in HK for five years you get a taste for it, believe me."

"Great!" beamed my wife. "Oh is your room ok, Jess?"

"It's perfect, Jan! My own bathroom and everything. Love the nice big shower!" She managed to catch my eye (right on the word 'shower') and I looked away quickly. "Ok, give me a few minutes and I'll be right with you," said Janet. We sat and listened to her footsteps up the stairs. I was feeling a little queasy. Guilt. I looked over at Jessica. She was grinning. "Been taking care of my kid sister?" she mimicked, gleefully. "Don't, Jess," I said. She went quiet for a moment then, laughing again, she got up and sashayed towards me, wiggling her hips. She stood in front of me, idly fingering the hem of her tee-shirt. "Don't what?" she pouted. "You know," I mumbled. I desperately wanted her to behave normally now Janet was in the house, felt pretty terrible in any case about things and this wasn't helping one iota. "Mmm, let me see," mused Jess, finger on chin. "Don't do THIS, you mean?" And she slowly raised her tee-shirt over her flat, tanned belly ... inched it up until I could see the lower slopes of her fabulous breasts, those breasts which were so much bigger and sexier than her sister's. "Jessica, stop it!" I begged. But I was mesmerised and she knew it. I was a goner. She slid her shirt up further, all the way over her breasts. "Do you wanna kiss them, baby?"

"Jessica, please, no."

"No?" she taunted. "What, you DON'T want to kiss my nice big tits? Thought you liked them."

"I do. Christ, I do. You fucking know that. Just that ..." I indicated with my finger upstairs. Jessica laughed and pulled her tee-shirt over her head. Took it off and tossed it on the sofa. Then she sat down and snuggled in close, arm round my neck, hand on my knee. She put her lips to my ear. "C'mon, don't be a wimp," she whispered. "She'll be a while. Any case, we'll be able to hear her coming down, won't we?" I was putty. Before I know it I've got my face in her tits, slobbering all over them, I get so into it that it's only Jess who hears Janet trotting down the stairs. She pulls away and quickly puts her top back on. It's in time but only just. When Janet comes in, Jess is bent over the coffee table flicking through a magazine and I'm up and walking and halfway to the kitchen. I keep going (because I need to compose myself) and when I return Jess and Jan are sitting together on the sofa and they're well into the 'sisters catching up' thing. I've brought a bottle of wine out with me ("Oh great, darling, thanks," says Jan) and I pour us all a glass, settle myself into an armchair and let them get on with it.

Janet has put on a similar outfit to Jessica -- black jeans and white cotton tee-shirt. Co-incidence or touch of sisterly competiveness? I'm not sure. Hope it's not the latter, however, because my wife looks nice, sure she does, but compared to her gorgeous little sister ... well it's not a fair contest. Even their names seem to shout the difference. Janet Taylor and Jessica Sanchez. Which of these two sounds like the 'nice' middle-aged married woman and which sounds like the exotically luscious babe? Mmm, quite. I sit watching the two of them chatting, and I make sure to split my gaze evenly, but there's really only one of them I want to look at (clue: it's not Janet Taylor). 'Sister hot. Wife not.' The unwelcome phrase pops into my head and once there I can't get rid of it. Jessica catches my eye once or twice and her expression when she does ('smug' springs to mind) tells me she knows precisely what I'm thinking.

I take orders and phone for the Chinese. When it arrives we decide to eat in the kitchen. There's quite a wide-ranging conversation -- Jess's new job (a big one apparently), my work, Jan's work, the house, mutual friends, yada yada yada -- and I have to keep my end up because Jess in particular is keen to include me in all the chat. She plays footsy with me under the table, off and on, but generally she behaves herself (to my relief). Well, apart from when Janet excuses herself for a couple of minutes and Jessica uses the opportunity to pull her shirt up and flash her tits again, grinning and sticking her tongue out at me. 

The portion of dinner discourse I didn't like (hated, in fact) was Jessica regaling us with stuff about her love life. This was, as always, eventful. "Jessica Sanchez, you're terrible! Poor Eric!" said Janet (laughing despite herself). We're hearing how Jess has been cheating on him left, right and centre. Jessica giggled. "Well, you know, a lot of dishy guys in Hong Kong. What's a poor girl to do?" I wasn't laughing. Tried to but ended up looking morosely down at my plate. Jess noticed: "Jan, I do believe your husband disapproves," she said, throwing me a teasing grin. "Um, no," I mumbled in weak protest. "Well I'm glad he does," smiled Jan, squeezing my arm. "Means I don't have to fret about him and all those young female lawyers he works with." God, I felt like such a heel at this point. But it was true enough: Janet had no reason to worry about me and female colleagues. The reason to worry, if she only but knew it, is sat right next to her, giggling and spooning up the last of the rice. "Really, Mark? Some hotties at your firm, uh?" Jessica's foot was stroking up and down my leg as she said this. "Not really," I muttered. I didn't dare look at her. I was willing her to change the subject. She did, but not in the way I was hoping. "Talking of dishy guys," she grinned, "there's a couple over here I might look up when I've got settled in." And she spent what seemed an eternity telling us about them. I felt a sharp stab. Yeah, can you believe it? I was jealous. Haven't even fucked the girl yet and I'm anguished at the thought of her dating other guys. See how much trouble I was in?

Any case, that was pretty much it for the day. Jess announces she's still a bit jet-lagged and retires for the night. Me and Janet stayed up and watched TV for a while then we went up too. I was feeling extremely horny but, sadly, had no desire whatsoever to make love to Janet (who seemed to kind of want to). She went to sleep (a little disappointed, I think - it had been a long time) and I lay there half the night obsessing about Jess in the next room, yearning to be in HER bed rather than this one. I badly wanted a wank, what with Jessica's merciless teasing from earlier, but I can't risk it, can't even risk touching myself down there. 

After perhaps three hours of this, tossing and turning under the duvet, just about burning up with frustration, I finally dropped off.

4.

She hadn't emerged by the time Janet and I left for work the next morning (we left together as per usual). "Sleeping off the flight, I guess," said Janet. "Yeah, guess so," I replied. What I'm thinking is how I'd love to fix Jess a cup of coffee and take it to her in bed. Almost suggest this but think better of it. My wife wasn't the suspicious sort but there's no point pushing it. Janet leaves a note for her sister on the kitchen table, along with a set of house keys, and we get going.

At work I try to concentrate on what I'm meant to be doing but it's impossible. Just keep thinking about Jessica. 

End up calling her: I held out till mid-morning then I locked my office door and dialled her number. It rang for a long time before she answered. "Yeah?" The sound of her voice, sexy and a bit sleepy, made my heart palpitate. "Hi Jess, it's me."

"Hello, you."

"Mark."

"Yes, I know."

"Er ... so how are you doing?"

"I'm great, Mark. You?"

"Yeah, great. I'm, um, at work."

"Guessed that, sweetie."

"What are you doing?"

"Doing? How do you mean?"

"Well, like, where are you?"

"I'm in your house, Mark."

"Ah ok. Yeah, thought you would be. You weren't up when I left this morning."

"Well, you know, girl needs her beauty sleep."

"What, even when she's beautiful already?"

She giggled. That knowing laugh of hers. I had an erection now. That I knew this thing with Jess was illicit and wrong was, if I'm honest, contributing. I tell her how horny I'm feeling. Tell her I've been thinking about her all morning. That I can't seem to do any work. That I've got a hard-on from just talking to her. 

"I see, Mr Taylor. And what if I tell you I'm still in bed, completely naked? Does that help at all?"

I groaned. She was giggling again. It was rapidly becoming my favourite sound in all the world. 

"Poor baby."

"You're a fucking tease, Jessica Sanchez, that's what you are."

"Am I?"

"Yeah, you fucking well are."

"And is that a compliment?"

"Depends."

"You haven't forgotten what we discussed, Mark, have you? You know, about how it's nicer if a guy has to work for it. C'mon, sweetie, it was only yesterday." 

"Jess, I know what you said yesterday, and that's fine, but I'm going fucking crazy here! Just want you to know that." 

She says she understands and is pleased to hear it. That she WANTS me thinking about her the whole time. That she loves the idea of my cock being hard for her. "Just so long as it's hard when it goes inside me, sweetheart." Jesus, the girl was driving me utterly beserk! "Look, baby, I can throw a sickie and come now," I said, hopefully.

"Could you, honey?"

"Yeah, I could."

She went silent. 

"Jess? Jess, you still there?"

"Yes, baby. I was thinking about your suggestion."

"And?" My heart was thumping now. "Well this IS a nice big bed, I suppose," she mused. "Let me see now ... yep, I have plenty of room for a man in here. Specially my hunky brother." My turn to go silent. "And I AM feeling very horny," she continued.

"Ok, so I jump in a cab, right?" I said, grinning down the phone. Another long pause. Oh please god.

"No, sweetie. On balance, let's not. You stay there, try and do some work, and I'll see you this evening."

"Christ, Jessica. So when? When do I get to go to bed with you?"

"I'd like you to take me out first. Least once. Told you that, didn't I?"

"Ok, baby, so YOU get a cab and come here. We can go to lunch. Anywhere you want. Then we can grab a couple of hours back at the house before Janet gets home."

"Nice idea, Mark, but no, I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"Because what I want is for you to take me to dinner. This Friday. Somewhere really expensive."

"Um, Friday? Jess, that's going to be difficult. Janet's planning to make us a special meal on Friday, the three of us, I know that already. She's cooking fish stew."




Sister Hot, Wife Not



"You'll just have to make an excuse then, won't you?"

"Like what?"

"Oh I dunno. Tell her an important client has jetted in and you have to take him out at short notice. She'll buy that, won't she?"

"Hmm, maybe."

"Yeah, she will. And I'll say I'm going on a date with one of those hot guys I was telling you about. And it'll be kind of true. Because I WILL be going on a hot date, sugar, won't I? With you."

"What, so you and I go out together and Jan gets to spend the whole of Friday evening home alone? That what you mean?"

"Sure there'll be a good movie on TV," chuckled Jess. "And Mrs Taylor can cook us fish stew at the weekend or something."

"You're all heart, Jessica."

"Yeah, I know. So, what do you think, honey? Should we do that?"

"Jan will be hurt. She'll pretend not to be, but she will."

"Too bad, sweetie. Because I'll be hurt if we don't."

"Ok, Jess."

She laughed. "Now that's what I like to hear. Although 'Jess darling' would have been even better." She went quiet until I said it. "Ok, Jess, darling."

"Great! It'll be worth it, honey, I promise. Oh and one more thing while we're talking about this little plan of ours."

"Ours? Yours, you mean. Anyway, what? What one more thing?"

"Let's make out to wifey, when we're breaking it to her, that this guy I'm meeting can't drop me home for some reason ... he likes to drink, say, so no car when he's out ... and rather than have to rely on the train or a cab late at night it's a great idea if you come collect me at the restaurant or club, or wherever, and give me a ride home. That's after you've dealt with your pesky client, of course. That way we don't have to mess around pretending to come back separately."

"Ok."

Fiendish, Jessica, wasn't she? 

And what about me? What was I?

5.

It worked a dream. That evening I told Jan about the 'client' and of course she believed me. "Never mind, darling, can't be helped. Me and Jessica can have a girl's night in together. Be fun, right, Jess?" Jessica smiled and nodded. We'd decided it might be a bit suspicious (even to a trusting person like my wife) if we both came out with our alternative Friday nights at the same time. Apart from that, an uneventful evening. Dinner in front of the TV (Jess and Jan on the sofa, me in my favourite chair) then a fairly early night for all of us. No messing around from Jessica. A relief but also, I'll admit it, a disappointment. It was impossible to keep my eyes off her. I was addicted. 

Next night, Thursday, we were sitting around and she broke the news to Jan about her plans. Said this guy (James, she called him) had rung her up and virtually begged for a date, had promised to take her somewhere really good. "You don't mind, sis, do you?" 

"Course not!" Janet assured her, rather too enthusiastically. I could tell she was slightly put out. I felt a twinge but that didn't stop me playing along with Jess's cock and bull story about how it might be a good idea (this 'James' being without transport) for me to collect and bring her home. "Sure, Jessica, I'm happy to do that. I can take the car to work instead of the train." My wife gave her approval ("Don't want my little sister stranded in town!") then went upstairs to do a couple of things. Jessica immediately came and sat in my lap and draped herself around me. She was flushed with the success of her plan, how easy it'd been deceiving poor Jan. "Doesn't have a clue, does she?" she giggled in my ear. Her high spirits were infectious and I found myself grinning like an idiot. "Kiss me, darling," Jess whispered. I did. I kissed her long and hard. I slipped a hand inside her top so I could fondle her big beautiful breasts. "Yeah, Marky, feel my tits," Jess purred. "Oh yeah, baby, that feels so good!" We were like a pair of horny teenagers.

Was I bothered that my poor, unsuspecting wife was just upstairs? I'd like to say I was but the truth was rather the opposite -- carrying on with her sexy sister, right under her nose, was turning out to be quite thrilling. Ok so Jessica was the prime mover, she'd led me here, but I'd become a willing accomplice. We were partners-in-crime. Crime? Well, not technically, but with how heartless we were being towards Janet (and this was only the start, it got a lot worse in coming days), I'd say the cap fits. I see that now. 

When my wife came down, we made a point of telling her how shitty we feel about abandoning her to a Friday night alone. "You'll be alright, darling, will you?" I asked. "Yes, Mark, of course I will!" she snapped. It was obvious she didn't want to dwell on the subject. Rather than let it drop, Jessica needled her sister by going on about it. "Poor thing. All on your own on a Friday night," she said, patronisingly, oozing concern. "You sure I shouldn't blow James out? I can always see him some other time, Jan, you know." Poor Janet had to tell us about a million times that she was fine with it. Yes, she'd dial something in. Yes, she'd maybe watch a movie. No, she wouldn't think she had to wait up for us. She ended up quite frazzled and announced grumpily that she was going to bed (it wasn't even ten o'clock). "Ok, Hun," I said. "Yeah, night, sis," said Jess. Janet didn't reply. Just stomped off.

Couple of minutes later, me and Jess are cosied up on the sofa, smooching and watching TV, laughing about Janet. "Thank christ she's gone," I said. I'm nuzzling at Jess's neck, nibbling her ears, stuff like that. "Mrs Taylor seemed quite upset about something, didn't she?" said Jess, evil grin on her face. "Good job the poor thing doesn't know I'm planning to screw her husband!"

"No, baby, I suspect that wouldn't help her mood one iota," I dead-panned, my hand snaking up her sexy short skirt. I've been surreptitiously ogling her luscious legs all evening. Jessica, needless to say, knows how great she looks in a short skirt and, pleasantly conscious of my attentions, she's been teasing me, on and off, with a bit of a show (you know: crossing and uncrossing her legs, letting her skirt ride up, idly scratching an imaginary itch way up her thigh etc) while the three of us were sat around talking earlier. I love what Jessica has just said about us screwing. We haven't fucked yet but it's clear the horny bitch wants it as much as I do. Take her out tomorrow and then up up and away! 

We carry on canoodling for a while before retiring upstairs. We can detect the faint sounds of snoring coming from mine and Jan's room and we have a sexy goodnight kiss, right outside my wife's door. I have a massive erection and Jessica gently squeezes it as she kisses me. "Save this for me, baby," she purrs. I'm squirming with desire for her. Any guilt I'd felt in the beginning of this has utterly gone. I want Jessica - I'm going to HAVE Jessica -- and I don't care about anything else. Jess pulls away finally. "See you tomorrow, sweetheart," she whispers. I stand and watch her walk the few yards down the hall to her room. She knows I'm watching and she exaggerates the hip-wiggle for my benefit, blows me a kiss as she goes inside. 

6.

The next morning (as we're lying in bed) Janet apologises for what she calls her "anti-social behaviour" of the night before. The irony of HER apologising isn't lost on me but, rather than feel bad for her, I find it deliciously amusing. I tell her it's ok, I understand, but maybe she ought to say sorry to Jess too. She promises she will. 

She wants to make love ("C'mon, Hun, it's been ages.") but I tell her I'm not in the mood. She shrugs and gets up, discards her nightdress, walks to the bathroom. I watch her closely and I try to come up with a single aspect of her body which doesn't compare unfavourably with her sister's. I fail. When she returns from her shower I continue on the subject of her reprehensible sulkiness. "So unlike you, Janet. Poor Jess thinks it's all her fault. She was quite upset after you stalked off, you know."

"Oh no," said Janet, frowning.

"Yeah. She was talking about perhaps it'd be better if she moved into a hotel or something while she looks for a place. Perhaps she's right."

Janet looked mortified. "No way! She's my sister. Oh Mark, such a moody cow I was, wasn't I? I must talk to her. I'll do it today, definitely."

"Why don't you do it now, Hun?"

"Now? She'll still be asleep."

"And I bet she'd really appreciate it if her big sister brought her breakfast in bed."

Janet brightened at my suggestion. "You know what, I think that's a very nice idea!"

"Well you know me, darling, full of bright ideas."

Janet looked at me fondly. "I do appreciate this, you know."

"What?"

"You being so good about having my sister stay here. I appreciate it."

"No problem, Hun. I like Jess. She's fun to have around. I'll probably miss her when she's gone."

"You're such a sweetheart," smiled Jan. "Right, this breakfast. Guess I should make it five star, uh?"

"Sure, Hun, but don't go overboard. Scrambled eggs, toast, orange juice, coffee, that ought to do the trick. Hey, and don't forget your apology. Nice big 'sorry sis' when you take it in to her, right?"

She nodded, looked at her watch. "I'd better get a move on! Scrambled eggs take a while to fix." She dressed quickly and hurried off to get cracking in the kitchen, leaving me to get up and shower in my own good time, inwardly corpsing at the thought of Janet about to go grovelling to Jessica, taking her breakfast in bed. I was sure Jessica would find it hilarious too. When I got downstairs I found Janet flapping a bit -- we needed to leave for work in less than ten minutes but the eggs weren't yet done. I told her to calm down, otherwise she'd ruin Jess's breakfast. Scrambled eggs had to be perfect, I said, or else they're not worth doing. "I know, darling, sorry. It's just, you know, look at the time! ... Oh what the hell, suppose I can be late for work for a change."

"Good call, Hun." I gulped down my coffee. "Look, babe, I gotta get going. See you later, yeah? Shouldn't be that late. Pain in the neck these big shot clients sometimes." 

Janet smiled. "Don't worry, darling. You just make sure you collect my little sister on time and bring her home safe and sound, ok?" 

"For sure," I grinned. I gave her a peck on the cheek (ignoring the puckered lips) and left her to it.

7.

The prospect of my date with Jessica (we'd made the arrangements: I was to work a little later than usual then meet up with her at this trendy bar I knew in the centre of town) caused time at the office to hang heavy. Eventually, however, it was 7:30 and I was sat there waiting for her, sipping a beer, at a table in the corner.

Jessica was twenty minutes late. This didn't surprise me (she was that sort of woman, the sort to keep a man waiting) and in any case all I could think of when she walked in was how ravishingly beautiful she looked. You think I'm exaggerating? Think again. She had her hair up but with a couple of tresses falling either side, framing her lovely face, and she had on a little black number, a cocktail dress I guess you'd call it, quite short (maybe six inches above the knee) and with a 'sheath' design which meant that it clung to every curve of her luscious body. She was wearing it with sheer tights and heels, the whole look displaying her long, shapely legs to perfection. At the top, the dress revealed enough cleavage so that nobody in eye-shot could fail to know she had fabulous tits, but it wasn't so low cut as to appear even slightly tarty. Fuck, she was a wet dream! 

She gazed around the room and waved a greeting when she saw me in the corner. As she walked over, I was smugly aware of several male customers staring longingly, eyes on stalks. One or two glanced at me with expressions of clear envy. "Hello, handsome," she grinned, joining me at the table. "Buy a girl a drink?"

"For sure. But first things first ... you look stunning, Jessica, just stunning!"

"Why thank you, sweetheart!" She leant forward, put a hand on my knee, fingered the lapel of my jacket. "You don't look so bad yourself, Mr Taylor. Excellent choice. I love a man in a good suit." Up close, Jessica was an even more delicious proposition. Her perfume, the shiny red gloss on her seductively full lips, the beautifully painted nails (also red), her bewitching dark brown eyes. She was simply ravishing. I was hit for six. I grinned bashfully, feeling about seventeen years old. "Yeah, it's my best one."

Jess smiled. "Well I'm glad, darling. I'm glad you're wearing your best suit just for me."

"So what do you wanna drink?" I asked her.

"Ooo, has to be champagne, don't you think?"

"Great idea." I went off to the bar and returned with two large glasses of iced bubbly. "To us," grinned Jess, raising hers. "Yeah, baby, to us," I replied. We clinked and took a sip (quite a big one in my case -- Jessica looked so breathtaking, made up and dressed to thrill like this, that I was feeling slightly nervous in her company). She seemed to sense this. "Relax, sweetie. Let's enjoy ourselves this evening. Hot date, I'm on, remember? A hot date with a hunky guy who's promised to show me a good time. That's what I told Janet when I left, anyway. Oh and she wished me luck. That was nice, wasn't it? Sounded like she meant it but just between you and me, sweetie, I'm not a hundred per cent sure she did. She looked a bit miserable, to be perfectly honest. Hey, Mark, you don't reckon my sister is a teeny bit jealous of me, do you?"

"Jan, jealous of you?" I grinned and took another sip of the champagne, nerves more settled now, getting in the swing. "Dunno, let me see. You're ten years younger than her, miles better looking, and you earn twenty times as much. No, Jessica, I can't see that she'd be at all jealous."

Jessica giggled. "You've missed something, haven't you?"

"What's that, Jess?"

"The little matter of me fooling around with her husband."

"She doesn't know that, though, does she?" I sniggered. "Like you said, silly cow is clueless."

"Mark Taylor! That's no way to talk about your wife! And my sister." The smile playing on her lips indicated that she felt otherwise, that she was very happy to hear me talk about Janet like this. "Anyway she's not totally clueless," Jessica continued. "She doesn't know about us being involved, thank goodness, but she DOES know you fancy me rotten."

"How come?" I said, surprised. 

"Oh c'mon, sweetie. The way you've been looking at me these last couple of days, like you're a dog and I'm a juicy bone. Even my stupid sister has noticed a couple of times. She knows, baby, believe me. Call it female intuition."

"Ah ... Ok, but so what? I don't care if you don't."

"No, I don't care, honey. I like it that she knows. Fact, why don't you start making it really obvious? Stop being all furtive about it. I love you ogling me. Told you that, Mr Taylor, haven't I?"

"Not as much as I love doing it, Miss Sanchez," I grinned.

"So carry on, baby, is what I'm saying, and don't worry about Janet. Like I say, she knows already that you're into me. Be kinda fun to rub the poor thing's nose in it, won't it?"

I thought for a moment. "Yeah, it would. Let's do that. Your sister's been getting on my nerves lately, to be honest, and now that you're around ... well, let's just say my interest has dropped somewhere below zero. Like, I haven't told you this, but you know how you said last night for me to 'save it' for you?"

Jessica grinned. "That lovely big cock? Meant it too."

"Well, you don't need to worry. I haven't made love to Janet for over six months and I'm not about to start. So it's definitely all yours, baby, all yours."

"Six months! God, I couldn't go without a fuck for even six days. Poor sis. She'll be drying up!"

I chuckled, draining my glass. "Another?" I said, pointing at hers (which was nearly finished). "Mmm, please," she smiled. I returned with two more and we picked up the conversation where we'd left off. "So, Mr Taylor's cock is all mine, is it?" Jessica leant forward and brushed her hand against where my erection was straining. Then she sat back and raised her glass. "I'll drink to that!" We clinked again. "I guess that means YOU'VE gone six months too, sweetie, doesn't it?" 

"Too right!"

"Poor baby. Sounds like I'm gonna get the fuck of my life," she teased.

"You better believe it, baby. Can't wait."

"Neither can I, sweetie. Hope you're figuring out the logistics."

"I am, Jess, don't worry." I hadn't, in fact, given this aspect much thought but a part of my brain got working on it there and then. 

"Because Jan'd better not know. One thing her knowing that hubby fancies the pants of her little sister - that's cool - but if she finds out that hubby is fucking her little sister that won't be cool at all. So have a think about how we're gonna go about it, Mark, ok? Starting this weekend, if possible."

"This weekend?"

"Yeah. I want that cock of yours inside me before midnight Sunday. Let's call it a challenge. You like a challenge, sugar, don't you?"

"I do when that's the prize," I grinned. 

Jessica took a drink, went quiet for a moment, looked thoughtful. Then about the wickedest grin I've ever seen broke across her face.

"What? What's so funny?"

"Oh nothing."

"Tell me," I pressed. She shook her head, having a fit of the giggles. "No, just thinking about poor Janet."

"What about her?"

Jessica controlled herself with an effort. "Well, you know, the situation. There she's gonna be, poor thing, zero sex, all upset and frustrated about not getting any, and meanwhile I'm gonna be having a ball. I'm gonna be getting busy with her husband, getting fucked by him right there in her own house. Can you imagine?"

"I like it, Jess, I like it. But does it HAVE to be at the house? What about hotels and stuff? Wouldn't that be an option sometimes?"

She shook her head. "No, sweetie. The house. Be more fun that way!"

"Ok, great. I'll sort something out for us."

"You do that, sweetie. I'm counting on you."

I looked around the bar, which was filling up. Most of the men in there were ogling Jessica and I pointed this out to her. She laughed. "Yeah, well, I'm used to that. You don't mind, baby, do you?" I assured her I didn't. "Good. Because you're the man I'm with, right?"

"Right," I grinned.

"I mean, you wouldn't rather be HIM, would you?" Jessica indicated with a flick of her eyes a middle-aged couple sitting at a nearby table. I saw what she meant. The guy was staring across at Jessica's legs, an expression of agonised longing on his face. It was hilarious. Even funnier was how his female companion could see what was going on and was clearly livid. "No, I wouldn't. Shit, Jess, she looks about ready to hit him!"

"I know! God, Mark, look at her. I'd hate to be a frumpy thing like that. Bet she hates me." 

"Bet she does, babe, yes," I chuckled. 

"Hey, watch this," said Jess. She shifted her chair, angled it in their direction, and slowly, teasingly, crossed and re-crossed her legs a couple of times, let her shoe slide part the way off, dangled it from her toes, all the while gazing coolly over at this couple. The guy was positively drooling, the poor woman looking at Jessica with about the sourest expression you can imagine. "Etc etc," said Jess, turning back to me, satisfied smirk on her face. I grinned at her. "Sanchez, you're SUCH a bitch!"

"Why thank you! The other day I was a 'tease'. Now I'm a 'bitch'. You do know how to compliment a girl, Mr Taylor, don't you?" 

I just laughed.

She excused herself and went to the bathroom ("Just freshen up before we go, sugar."): cue hip-waggling sashay across the bar with several pairs of longing male eyes (and some jealous female ones) following her every move. Same thing five minutes later on her way back (they'd all been waiting for it). I think that was the moment, sitting there and watching this, that I realised just how incredible it must be being a gorgeous looking woman like Jessica. The power it gives you. The fun you can have. The pleasure you can bring to others. 




Sister Hot, Wife Not



And the pain.

8.

I'd made reservations at two places so as to give Jess a choice. The Italian, she said. It was walking distance from the bar and we strolled there holding hands, laughing and joking, generally enjoying being with each other. "Hope you're hungry," I asked her, as we neared our destination. "Famished!" she replied. The prospect of eating reminded me of the morning's breakfast scenario "So, how did you enjoy your scrambled eggs in bed this morning, darling?"

"You know about that, do you?" she smiled.

"Was my idea for Jan to do it, actually. Told me she felt awful about being such a misery guts when she found out about you and I both being out tonight."

"Yes, so I gather. Guilt is a terrible thing, Mark, isn't it?"

"It sure is."

"So it was your idea, sugar, was it?"

"Yeah. Thought you'd enjoy it."

"And I did, darling, I really did! Jeez, it was funny. There I am lying in bed, just woken up, thinking disgraceful thoughts about you and me, and next thing there's a knock on the door and in comes wifey with this breakfast tray. Told her I didn't remember ordering room service. She gives me this sheepish look and says she's really sorry about how she behaved last night, that she wants to make it up to me, that it's totally cool for me to go on a date tonight or any night."

"And did you forgive her?"

"Eventually. The way she goes on and on, I can tell she's pretty desperate for me to say 'it's ok, don't worry,' and so I don't say that. I keep her squirming for a while. I sit up in bed and get comfortable and I eat this yummy breakfast she's brought me, eating very slowly, and I let her bang on. She ends up almost begging for forgiveness, poor cow. I can tell she's getting anxious about the time, late for work is what I'm guessing, so I make her stand there until I've completely finished before I finally relent and I tell her that ok, it's all fine now ... just so long as she's realised she was being stupid and totally unreasonable."

"Which she was, Jess, right?" I snickered.

Jessica laughed and squeezed my hand. "Yeah, damn right. Anyway, listen to this, when she gets home after work I decide to torture the poor thing a bit more. I chat for a while about how much I'm looking forward to my hot date with a hot guy, then I take her to my room and I ask her advice on what to wear. She says she's not sure, says it's a long time since she went on a hot date. So I help her out. What I do is I pull a selection of things from my wardrobe and I try them on, model them for her, ask her which one she thinks is best for a hot date with a hot guy, which one does she think he'll like the most. It's such a scream! These outfits I've picked out, I know I look really good in all of them, and they're the sort of clothes that Jan'd love to wear but she can't because she hasn't got the figure for it."

"What, being too short and a bit dumpy and having mediocre tits? That what you mean, Jess?" I was starting to enjoy making derogatory remarks to Jessica about her sister. Enjoy it almost as much as Jess loved hearing them. "Pretty much," she smirked, slipping her arm around my waist and snuggling into me as we walked. I could see the restaurant now. Jessica was giggling. "So funny, sweetie, don't you think? She helps me choose my hot little dress and then she stands there and waves me off, wishes me luck, as I swan off on a date with her husband. Poor sis!"

"Poor sis indeed," I chuckled, squeezing Jess's shoulder, pulling her into me. I want to stop and kiss her - kiss her hard - but we've arrived at the restaurant.

It's a great place (very expensive so it ought to be) and dinner is delicious. We forget about Janet (although Jess sends her a text halfway through pudding saying she's having a wonderful time and can't wait to tell her about it later), talk instead about ourselves and how fabulous our 'affair' (Jess's description, which I like) is going to be. Jess is bubbly, exuberant, flirts shamelessly with the waiters who fawn all over her. I don't mind, I know she's just playing, having fun. Any case, the guy she's mainly flirting with (all through the meal and very heavily) is me. By the time I settle the bill (eye-watering!) and we leave, I've progressed from infatuation to utterly besotted.

Where I'm parked isn't far and half an hour later we're driving home. We'd had a long snog first, sitting in the car, and I can still feel and smell her all over me. I'm in heaven. Just savouring what Jessica says (and I agree) is the 'proper start of our affair'. Jess decides to give my cock some attention as I'm driving. She toys with me through my trousers and she soon has me grunting and groaning. She giggles and steps it up, gets me harder and harder. "Jess, I'm gonna cum if you're not careful!" 

She really IS giggling now. "Oh really? So, should I be careful then?" She's still doing it - we're only maybe a couple of minutes away from home. 

"Oh shit, I dunno!" I want her to stop but even more than that I want her not to. Want her to finish me off. 

"Because I quite like making guys come in their pants. Just ask some of the boys I went to school with."

"Yeah?" I croak. I'm right on the edge now and the sexy little bitch knows it. We're on our road, can see the house. "Yeah. So how about I make YOU come in your pants right now?"

"Oh god, baby, yes!" 

"Ok, ask me and I will," she giggles.

"Please Jess ... Jessica ... please make me come in my pants!"

She does. She gives my bulging erection an extra firm squeeze and pushes me over. I explode just as we reach the house. I miss the turn into the gate (for obvious reasons) and have to do a U turn up the road. "Hey, wifey's left the gate open for us. That's considerate of her, sweetie, isn't it?" grins Jessica. "Yeah, good old Jan," I sneer. 

By the time I've parked in the drive I'm just about under control. We go into the house and find Janet dozing on the sofa, the remnants of a TV dinner on the coffee table. She'd left most of it, by the looks of it. She'd wanted to wait up for us, obviously, but had gotten tired (it IS quite late by now -- well after midnight). She woke up shortly after we walked into the lounge (I managed to stop squeezing Jessica's ass just a moment before my wife opened her eyes). Christ, she looked a mess, I thought, cursing that I have to sleep with her tonight when what I really want to do is go to bed with her sexy sister. 

"Hey, guys!" said Janet, sitting up, rubbing her eyes, making an effort. "Hi, Hun," I said, then announced I was straight off for a shower. I needed to do a few things before I got close to her, deal with the physical evidence of what's gone on between me and Jessica in the car. Jess was stood there smiling sweetly. "Goodnight, Mark. Thanks again for the lift!" Janet made as if to rise and go up with me (she clearly wants to, she's very tired) but I head it off. "Hun, why don't you chat to your sister for a few minutes?" Then I left them and went up. I learn later that Jess kept poor Jan up for over an hour, telling her about her date, how yummy the food was, how dishy and charming 'James' was, how she was definitely going to see him again, that she might even bring him round to the house sometime. She really layed it on.

By the time Janet came to bed I was fast asleep.

9.

Saturday, Jan and I woke late. It was only a week since the fateful phone call from Hong Kong but it seemed longer. I think because life was so different now. The call seemed to separate two eras -- pre-Jess and post. I preferred post. Don't think Janet did, though. Saturday mornings had tended to be a time when my wife and I made love (back when we did that sort of thing) and she was feeling amorous on this particular occasion, tried quite hard to interest me. I firmly rebuffed her, however, and she eventually got the message, albeit not without protest. "Mark, this isn't good," she complained, sounding a bit sulky. I shrugged. "Sorry, Hun, guess I'm still tired from last night."

"I have needs, you know." This was a first, her telling me she NEEDED a fuck. Jessica had clearly been correct about her sister feeling sexually frustrated and I made a mental note to tell her this when I got the chance. As for Janet, I made it clear the subject was closed by getting up and going to the bathroom. "So how did it go with Jessica?" I asked on my return. "You know, breakfast and your best sincerest apology?"

Janet smiled. "Oh yes. Fine. She WAS put out, you were right, but I managed to smooth the waters. It was a good idea of yours actually, Hun, the scrambled eggs. Said she loves scrambled eggs."

"That's good then, Jan. So you're out of her bad books now?" (Clearly I was out of Jan's bad books too. Not that I'd been worried: my wife never stayed sulky for long, it wasn't in her nature.)

"Think so, yes. I guess I'd better treat her especially well from now on, though, while she's here. Just to be sure."

"Yeah, Hun, really spoil her. I think you should." Made a mental note to tell Jess this too. She'd crack up. 

Jess got up even later than us and we settled into a lazy Saturday. When Jan was out of ear-shot, I whispered to Jess about the two things from earlier (Jan being upset about no sex, and her plans to treat Jess like a bit of a VIP from now on) and, yes, she DID start giggling herself silly. "Right, no more of me helping out around the house then," she grinned. "Definitely not, babe," I said.

"Hey, and that means you too."

"Me?"

"Yes, Mr Taylor, you. I've noticed how you chip in with the chores around here and I don't like it. I don't like seeing men do that sort of thing. Specially guys I'm romantically involved with. Plus you're married, honey, aren't you? Got wifey to do all of that drudge stuff - so let her do it, ok?"

Fine by me. 

Lunch (which Janet fixed and we had in the kitchen at about 1:30): soon as we finished eating, Jessica and I got up and went through to the lounge, leaving my wife to clear the table and do the dishes. Poor Jan hadn't even quite finished herself. Still, what could she do? Didn't want to piss Jessica off again, did she? And hadn't we just agreed that her sister was going to be royalty around here for the rest of her stay? Ok, so I was doing the right thing keeping Jess company rather helping Janet, wasn't I? Exactly right. When she'd cleared up, Janet popped her head round and asked if we wanted coffee. I didn't but Jessica said she'd love one. "Coming right up!" Janet chirped and disappeared again, came back with Jessica's coffee. "Thanks," Jess grunted, not bothering to look up. "Hey, Hun, maybe a beer for me?" Janet looked daggers at me, appeared about to say something, but then simply nodded and trotted off again. "And a glass, babe, yeah?" I called after her. Jessica giggled at that. "Nice having a servant around, Marky, isn't it?" she whispered, and she took the opportunity of Jan's further short absence to nibble my earlobe. 

Janet brought me my beer, poured it for me, and settled herself in an armchair with a book. Had to be a chair since her sister and I were on the sofa, sitting pretty close, not quite touching but almost. It was like WE were the couple of the house and Jan was the outsider (not completely wrong, if you think about it). Janet had put her reading glasses on and this, combined with the rather shapeless 'smocky' type dress she was wearing, was making her look particularly frumpy and unattractive. The contrast with Jessica (impossibly sexy in short skirt plus rather tantalising top) was bordering on ludicrous. I kept ogling Jess as she sat next to me flicking through a magazine (some fashion thing) and remembering what she'd told me on our date the previous evening, I didn't even try to be subtle about it. It was a relief to be able to lech at Jessica whenever I wanted and not have to try and hide it from my wife. Also quite funny to watch Janet, sitting opposite, staring fixedly down at her book, desperately pretending to be unaware of how I'm constantly eyeing up her sister. She noticed alright - in the space of twenty minutes she turned maybe three pages (and Jan's a fast reader usually). I had a strong urge to put my hand on Jess's thigh. The way she's sitting in her hot little skirt, lovely bare legs crossed in my direction, nearly touching me, it's like she's inviting it. But I don't. Against the rules. Jessica and I have agreed that if her sister is in eye-shot I can ogle as much as I like (and the more the better), but no smooching or anything like that. We want Janet suffering in silence, not exploding in rage. 

For the next couple of hours or so we just chat and joke around together. Or rather Jess and I do. Janet, we pretty much ignore except for throwing the odd comment her way (and not really listening to the reply). Oh and a couple of times when we want something - she fixes us all a snack at one point and she gets me another beer. The beer actually takes two trips because she brings mine, sits down, and then a minute later Jessica says she fancies one too. Each time Janet departs for the kitchen I fondle Jess's sexy legs. Don't even wait for my wife to disappear from view, my hand snakes up her sister's skirt soon as Janet's walking away from us towards the door. 

I'm thoroughly enjoying all of this (and so is Jessica) but what's occupying my grey matter is how to engineer an opportunity for us to fuck. She's been taunting me about it every time Janet's out of ear-shot ("So, when are you and I gonna bang our brains out, baby?") and she keeps reminding me about the deal. Has to be here at home and it has to be without Janet knowing. It's not easy. Particularly since the afternoon is almost over and I'd decided it needed to happen that day. Sure, Jess had said by end of Sunday (my 'challenge') but I saw no reason to delay. I was gonna fuck Jessica today, Saturday, and that was that. But how?

I had a brainwave. What triggered it was my musing about this new regime whereby Janet gets to do all the household chores. Yes, I reckoned my idea would work. Something about my wife's passive acceptance of the slightly superior and offhand way that Jessica and I had been treating her since lunchtime told me that I'd get away with it. 

Let's roll. 

"What's for dinner tonight, Hun?" I enquired. Janet looked up from her book. She appeared slightly startled but pleased to be asked (guess it was better than being ignored). "I was thinking of doing chicken casserole. Is that ok with you guys?" 

I looked at Jess. "What do you think? Jan's famous chicken casserole tonight?"

"Depends, I guess. Is it nice, Jan's famous chicken casserole?"

I nodded vigorously. "Damn right it is. One of her specialities. Right, Hun?"

"I suppose it is," Janet beamed. Her spirits seemed to be picking up. "Well ok then!" said Jessica. Janet settled back in her chair (she'd leant eagerly forward during the exchange), considering the matter of dinner settled. "Just thinking, though, Hun," I mused. "It's Jess's first Saturday night here and she missed out on your fish stew yesterday, didn't she?"

"Not sure going to a five star restaurant with her dishy new man counts as missing out, Hun," laughed Jan, throwing her sister a conspiratorial look. Jess smirked and giggled.

"Yeah, Hun, I'd say it does. Your chicken casserole is great, sure, but your fish stew is the absolute tops. Everyone knows that."

Janet looked pleased but slightly concerned. "Well, sure, but ..."

"And I missed out too, Jan, let's face it. Stuck with that wretched client all evening."

"Yes, but ... oh Hun, look, I'm sorry ... I haven't got the ingredients. Would have bought the fish fresh on Friday but I figured there was no point when I knew you and Jess were both going out." (Of course I knew this.) 

"Ah." I turned to Jessica, looking disappointed. She played along, looked disappointed too. "Oh, sis, that's such a shame. I adore fish stew!" Both of us were looking (and smiling) at Janet. Jan looked thoughtful for a moment. Then she sat forward and smiled too. She looked at her watch. "Ok, I guess there's still time. If you guys don't mind being left alone I can pop to the shops and get what I need."

"Hun, you're a star. No, we don't mind being alone for a while, Jessica, do we?"

"Definitely not." She was looking at me as she said this and her eyes told the story. She turned back to her sister. "Sure YOU don't mind, though, sis? About having to go off shopping, I mean?"

Janet shook her head. "No, not at all. It's just the fish and a couple of other things. Take me less than half an hour if I take the car."

Less than half an hour.

"Ah ok. That's not long at all then, is it?" said Jessica. She was talking to Janet but the message was for me. A 'quickie' was not what she had in mind for our first time. Me, I'd have settled for that, but it was more important to please Jessica. I thought on my feet. "Yeah, Hun, take the car. Fact, since you are taking the car, do you wanna maybe get a few more things? You know, get some stuff in for the week."

Janet looked confused. "For the week? But I thought you'd be doing that after work, Monday, Hun. Like normal." 

"Sure, Hun, I know. But it's not normal, is it? We've got your sister here with us. Our guest. Besides I'm getting very busy at work these days so I'm not sure me doing shopping and stuff is so appropriate." Janet looked for a second as if she might want to debate this, but she thought better of it. "Guess that means I have to go the mall then." 

"Yeah, Hun, guess so," I said. I glanced at my watch. "Look, it's only four thirty. What time do you need to be back and making the dinner?"

"Well, what time do you and Jess want to eat?"

"Jess, what time do we want to be tucking into Jan's fish stew?"

Jessica pondered for a second. "Um, let's see -- about eight thirty?"

"Sounds good to me. Dinner at eight thirty, Hun?"

Janet took a moment to process. "Ok. So I'd better make sure I'm back by half past six. It takes a while to make it properly."

"Great. So that gives you two hours. Hey, traffic might be bad, though, so maybe you ought to get your skates on."

"Ok, Hun." Janet got slowly to her feet and prepared to depart. I'd been right, my wife was starting to realise her place in the scheme of things, accept her reduced status around here. Jessica sensed this too. "Any chance of you picking up a few things for me, sis, if you're going to the mall?"

"Um, sure. What things?"

Jess started in on the things she needed, imperiously ticking each one off with her fingers. "Ok, so I need some tights, I'm running out. Least six pairs. I like the really sheer ones -- three black and three flesh would be perfect. Couple more bras I need too. Black lace. And some sun cream would be good, seeing how this weather is looking over here. Factor ten, ok? ... sorry, Jan, do you wanna write all this down so you don't forget?" 

Janet went and got pen and paper. "Ok," Jessica continued. "So what have we done?"

"Um, tights, bras, sun cream," said Jan, pen at the ready to add to the list.

"Right. You'd make a great little secretary, sis."

"Janet IS a secretary, Jess, remember?" I cut in. "Oh yeah, course," giggled Jessica. "Ok, I also need to top up on red lipstick. By red what I mean is crimson, ok? Plus matching nail gloss. Oh and some moisturiser for my legs. Try and get one that's in a tube not a bottle, I like to squeeze it out. Hey, I'll give you guys the money for all this obviously. Just tell me how much, sis, and give me the receipts and I'll do a transfer next time I'm online. Ah yes, that was the other thing, I need a spare battery for my phone. You know which one to get, right?" Janet nodded, scribbled furiously, got it all down. "Ok, Jessica, think I have all that."

"Sorry, sis, quite a lot, isn't it? Do you wanna just read it back to me? That way I'll be sure." Janet looked down at her list and read it back to Jess. "Yeah, sounds good to me, sis," said Jessica, nodding approvingly. "Didn't miss anything, Mark, did she?"




Sister Hot, Wife Not



"Nope, don't think so," I grinned. "Didn't hear any detail on the bras, though. Are you sure Janet knows exactly the sort what you want?" (Just couldn't resist it, could I?) 

"Well, black lace, obviously. Sure I said that," said Jessica. "And you know my cup size, Jan, don't you?" she added, grinning at her considerably less endowed sister. Poor Jan just nodded. She was getting desperate to be dismissed and on her way. "Oh and my tights, can we double check you have the correct details there?" 

Janet nodded again. 

Jessica raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"Sheer, three black, three flesh," intoned Janet, quite solemnly.

"Spot on, sis. Ok brilliant. So ... off you go, I guess." Janet, looking relieved, picked up the car keys and started towards the hallway. "Oh, Jan?" called Jessica. Janet stopped and turned. Her face was a little red, I noticed. "Look, just to say, I really appreciate this. It'll save me so much time next week. I'm going in to discuss my new job on Monday, did I tell you?" Janet did her little nod. (Jess had indeed told us this. A couple of days ago, she'd mentioned that she was due at the bank first thing Monday morning to finalise her start date and one or two other details.) "Yeah, and so there IS one more thing," Jessica continued. "Sorry, only just remembered. Stay there a second while I pop upstairs and get something." Jessica rose from the sofa and ran up to her room. She came back clutching a white silk blouse, a little crumpled, which she handed to Janet. "There'll be one of those express dry-clean places round here, sis, right? You know, where they do it in like two hours?"

"Um, not sure," mumbled Janet, looking down at the blouse. "Yes, Hun, there is," I assured her. "That little place down on Arlington Street." (Which was true. We never used it, it wasn't that convenient, but I'd seen the place and 'two hours' was indeed their boast on the sign outside.) Jessica was delighted. "Fantastic! Because I need the blouse for my meeting on Monday." 

"Non problemo," I grinned. "Jan can hand it in on her way to the mall and pick it up on the way back. Can't you, Hun?"

"Sure, yes ... yes I can do that," muttered Janet, sounding a little dubious. "That'll make quite a trip, though, Hun. I probably won't get back here till seven, maybe later. Not sure that leaves enough time for me to make dinner. Eight thirty we said, didn't we?" Jessica and I looked at each other. How we kept a straight face I'll never know. "Hun, we don't want you running yourself ragged on our account. Yes we said eight thirty, but c'mon it's not the end of the world if we eat a little later, for heaven's sake. You just take your time and come back when you've done everything. Then get cracking on the dinner and we eat when it's ready and not before. How's that?"

"Ok, Hun." 

"Great. So we'll see you later then."

"Yeah, sis, you're an angel." Jess fluttered Janet a 'goodbye' with her fingers. We managed to sit quietly until we heard the car moving down the drive. Then we totally cracked up. "Oh my god, did that really just happen?" Jessica spluttered. She was rolling around the floor laughing. "Seems it did," I grinned. 

"Jeez, amazing. This is so working out for us, sweetie, isn't it?"

"Speaking of which," I said, looking at her hungrily and expectantly. "Yeah, speaking of which," she echoed. "Not back till seven, right?"

"Right."

Jess glanced at her watch. "And it's not even five yet."

"Also right."

She was grinning very wickedly. "So over two hours."

"You got it, baby."

"Well I'm good with figures, sweetie."

"You're good with everything, Jessica."

She giggled. "Yeah, I know."

"Including being the sexiest, most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on." She loved that, I could tell. She came and sat in my lap, kissed me deeply and passionately. Then she broke it off and put her lips to my ear. "I'm on heat, baby," she whispered. "Wanna get naked in bed with a big hunky man. So, Mr Taylor, how about you pick me up right now and carry me upstairs and make love to me?" I did. I carried Jess up there, her kissing me all the way, and once we're in her room I throw her on the bed. We rip each other's clothes off and we fuck like two crazy animals. The feeling as I enter her warm juicy pussy and start pumping is like nothing I've ever felt before. Jessica squeals with pleasure at each thrust. "Oh yeah, baby, fuck me. Fuck me hard!" she screams, her hands clawing my back, squeezing my buttocks, pressing me into her. "Oh god, Jess, you feel so good to fuck," I tell her, between grunts. "You too, baby," she pants. "I love the feel of your big hard cock inside me. Fuck me with it, Marky! Fuck me with your big hard cock!" 

It's over pretty quick, the two of us orgasming together, and we lie there for a while afterwards getting our breath back, luxuriating in the afterglow. Then we climb under the duvet and cuddle up. We're going to make love again before my wife gets back, I know that, but there's no rush. We chat for a while, tell each other how great the sex was, how we can't wait to do it loads more. I call her 'darling' a lot, which I know she likes. We have another laugh about Janet, amuse ourselves by guessing what she was doing just at the exact point I was cumming inside her sister. "Queuing to pay for your tights?" I suggest. "Three black, three flesh," giggles Jessica. "Hey, hope she remembers that. And my blouse too. I really need that for Monday. Ok, I've got at least another ten just like it, and they're all clean and perfect, but I wanna wear THAT one."

"Such a bitch!" I chuckle. "Be quite funny, actually, if she messes up on any of your stuff."

"Will it?"

"Yeah, because then you can give her a good telling off, can't you?

"Can I, sugar?"

"Yes, darling, you can. She's my wife and I hereby grant you permission to give her a bit of a roasting if that happens."

Jess grinned. "Ok, well we'll see." Her hand had drifted between my legs and I felt myself getting hard once more. "Ooo, who's a big boy again!" she laughed. I shifted around, ready for another fuck, but she stopped me. "Yeah, sugar, again ... but go down on me first, yeah? Wanna feel your lovely tongue slithering around my pussy." I slide down and begin servicing her with my mouth. Her cunt is full of spunk but it was mine so, you know, great. Jessica lies back, softly urging me on. "Mmm, that's heavenly, darling. Keep going, baby. Lick me all out." She's purring with pleasure and I really settle into it. After a while I sense her moving and I look up and see she's got her phone from the bedside table. "What, baby?" I say. "Shush," she says, putting a finger to her lips, indicating for me to carry on doing what I'm doing. She has a naughty grin on her face. I get back between her legs, return to licking her pussy, while she stabs out a number. It's a very quick call as it turns out. All I hear is Jess saying, "Hi, sis, it's me ... Yes, sorry to fret but I just want to check on my blouse. Is it ok? Have you handed it in? ... Ok, good ... And will it definitely be ready today? ... Right, so that's fine then ... Yeah, great, your husband and I are just sitting here chatting ... Oh and my blouse, can you make sure they press it before you bring it back? ... Yes, Janet, press it, you know what that means, don't you? ... Thanks, sis, see you soon ... Hey, me and Marky are really looking forward to fish stew by the way! ... Yeah, ok, bye." 

I try my best to keep licking Jessica's cunt while she's talking to Janet but it's difficult on account of I'm laughing so much. So is Jess, now she's put the phone down. I look up, grinning, from my position between her legs. "Enjoyed that little chat with your sister, darling, did you?" She's squealing with laughter. "Oh my god! Such an utter bitch, aren't I?"

"No, Jess, not at all. Lying in bed and bossing your sister about on the phone while her husband is licking your pussy out ... that doesn't make you a bitch. No way."

"The husband I've just fucked," she giggles. "Haven't forgotten already, Mark, have you?"

"And who's about to fuck you again," I tell her.

"Ooo, Mr Taylor, promises promises! Hope you can deliver on that, big boy." She throws a pillow at me playfully, then beckons me to her. We kiss long and sweetly then she tells me to turn and lie on my back. She sees that my cock is hard and vertical, ready for her pussy again. "Oh yeah, baby," she purrs, licking her lips in appreciation. "I'll go on top, sugar, you just lie back and enjoy yourself." She pleasures my cock with her mouth, licking, sucking it, building me up, fondles and caresses my balls with her soft fingers, then she straddles me and we fuck again. Slowly this time, a long, leisurely fuck which we prolong and relish, Jess panting and grinning down at me, me drinking in the sight of her awesome tits, sometimes squeezing and fondling them, sometimes just looking. It ends with another orgasm for both of us (Jessica's is even bigger than the first time, "oh baby baby baby" she moans as she surrenders to a shuddering, gushing climax) and the two of us together in bed, happy and snuggled and thoroughly sated. "Was that good, darling?" I ask her, eventually, best wolfish grin. She doesn't answer, just lies there gazing enigmatically into space. I'm worried for a second (did she not enjoy the sex as much as I did?) but then I see that she's smiling to herself. "Jess?" I prod (since I want to be sure she's ok). She comes out of her reverie and kisses me. "Let's just say I'm going to have a very nice time living here with Mr and Mrs Taylor," she chuckles. She looks like a cat that's got the cream. 

10.

Jessica and I got up and showered together, then re-made the bed and got dressed. We went downstairs and cuddled up on the sofa. I put the TV on. 

At seven fifteen my phone rings. It's Janet. "Hun, where are you? We were thinking you'd fallen down a hole or something." She's got everything and now she's at the cleaners, she says, waiting for Jess's blouse to be ready. She sounds a bit breathless. "Ok. So you'll be back soon then?" No, that's the thing, she says. The blouse should have been ready but it's not. They've told her another hour at least. "Oh no. Hun, that's such a drag," I say. Jessica is looking quizzically at me and so I fill her in. She covers her mouth and giggles. Janet is talking again but I don't quite catch it. "Sorry, Jan, what?" She says it again. 

"Ok one second, I'll ask her." 

I turn to Jess. "My wife is wondering if there's another blouse you can maybe wear on Monday. That way she can leave now and get home and she'll still have time to make fish stew for dinner if we eat at nine thirty instead of eight thirty. What do you reckon?"

Jess grins and shakes her head.

"No, Hun, sorry. Your sister says she absolutely has to have that blouse."

Janet is wittering about being tired and that there's nowhere to sit down at the dry-cleaners. I hold the phone out while she's talking so that Jess (who's starting to crack up) can hear it all. 

"I know, Hun, but they're closed on Sundays so I can't see any other way, can you? You'll just have to wait there until it's ready." Ok, Janet says, resigned to her fate. So now it'll be nearly nine o'clock by the time she gets back, she says. What about dinner? Do we want to just dial something in, tell them to deliver after nine? Her sister and I look at each other, pondering this suggestion. Jess grins and shakes her head again. I take the cue and suggest a variation: "That's fine, Hun, but it sounds like you can't be totally sure when you're getting back, so how about this for an idea instead? -- you stay at the cleaners until Jessica's blouse is ready and then go pick us all up a pizza and drive back here. As quick as you can, Hun, so it doesn't get cold." Jessica is losing it. She's shaking with mirth, about to explode. I'm struggling too - this is too funny for words. Janet is blathering on again and she's actually apologising about us having to make do with pizza. "Hun, it's fine," I reassure her, gurning at Jess. "We can have the fish stew tomorrow, can't we? Any case, I like pizza now and again." Jan asks what sort of pizza we want. She's going to have a ham and pineapple, she says. "Four seasons for me, Hun, please. And I'll just ask Jess." I raise an eyebrow at Jessica. She can't speak, just about manages a 'whatever' shrug. "Your sister wants a double pepperoni," I tell Janet. "Oh, and she'd like a large coke to go with it. Make sure you bring a straw, she says."

Jessica holds up two fingers. "Sorry, Hun, two straws. So, are we done now?" Janet says we are. "Ok, Hun, bye." I toss the phone down and give in to the giggles. I have a fit and so does Jess. "Oh my god. Oh my god," she screams. It takes a few minutes for us to settle down. Once we do, I notice my stomach rumbling. "Could do with that pizza now," I grin. "Ah well, guess I can wait." But apart from this -- the delay to dinner - the fact Janet won't now be back for ages is quite nice for me and Jessica. Means we can relax and snuggle up on the sofa again, watch the evening news, catch the second half of a movie, chill out a little. Which is what we end up doing.

At nine on the dot we heard the sound of a car in the drive. "Here comes wifey!" announced Jessica. "About time too," I said. "I'm fucking starving!" We broke off kissing and went to the window, watched Janet park and start unloading the car. "Your sister looks a bit loaded down, doesn't she?"

Jessica giggled. "Poor thing! Be nice if we went and gave her a hand, sweetie, wouldn't it?"

"It would, yes," I grinned. We settled ourselves back on the sofa and waited for Janet to enter. The sound of the front door opening and then a few seconds later my wife came huffing and puffing into the room with a bag in each hand. She looked exhausted. "Hi there," she said, putting the bags down. If she was expecting something gushing from either her husband or her sister she was sorely disappointed. We barely looked up from the TV. "Hiya," was all I said, Jess said nothing at all. 

"I've got such a lot of stuff to bring in," said Jan, looking at me hopefully.

"Shush, Hun. We're watching the end of this movie. It's pretty good." Jessica, sitting silently, did indeed look totally engrossed in what was happening on the screen. My wife looked upset -- very upset -- but she didn't protest. Neither did she protest about Jessica sitting intimately close to me on the sofa, her leg brushing up against mine. I sensed the 'no smooching in front of wifey' rule might be in serious danger before too long. (I was right: We restrained ourselves that evening, more or less, but Janet's increasing subservience towards her sister and I meant it was only a matter of time before we were taking maximum advantage.) Janet stood looking slightly abject. Then she trooped off back to the car to finish the unloading. It took her three more trips to bring the various things inside. There were five bulging shopping bags, plus Jessica's blouse on a hanger, plus the pizza boxes. The blouse she placed carefully on a chair and she stood now clutching the pizza boxes, the bags around her feet on the floor. We ignored her apart from me pointing to the kitchen, indicating she ought to take the stuff in there. Janet obeyed. She left one bag on the floor of the lounge (we could see it contained Jessica's various bits and pieces) and took the rest off into the kitchen. She managed it in one go by lugging two bags in each hand and having the pizza boxes under her arm. It was quite a sight and Jess, unsurprisingly, nearly got the giggles again. Soon we could hear my wife rustling around and putting things away.

The movie finished after around another five minutes, I left the TV on but turned the sound down. "God, I'm so hungry," said Jess. "Why don't you tell Mrs Taylor to get a move on with that pizza?" 

"Pizza, Hun?" I shouted, loud enough for Jan to hear me in the kitchen. "Coming up!" yelled Janet, sounding flustered. She brought it in, laid it all out on the coffee table. Three pizzas (plus the large coke for Jess). Jan dished up, cut slices onto individual places and we got munching, Jessica and I comfortable on the sofa, her sister looking a bit cramped and awkward, kneeling on the floor on the opposite side of the low table. Jess and I talked about the movie we'd just watched and then chatted together about films generally, which were our favourites, which actors did we like, etc etc. Janet tried a couple of times to chip in but after a while, realising we didn't particularly want to hear from her, she gave up and concentrated studiously on her pizza. "Marky, would you like to share my coke?" said Jessica at one point. "I have two straws."

"Sure, Jess, love to. Thanks." So we split the coke, Jess holding it, the two of us sucking at a straw each. She'd squeezed up even closer to me on the sofa, was pressing her leg right up against mine. She eventually deigned to speak to the gooseberry. "Mine's yummy, sis! How's yours?"

"Very nice," said Janet. Although she didn't, in truth, look like she was enjoying it that much. "And how's yours, Mr Taylor?" asked Jess, grinning at me. "Great!" I replied. I was wolfing it down. "Guess all that exercise has given me an appetite." Janet looked non-plussed at that. Jessica smiled at her hapless sister. "Your husband was showing off a bit earlier. Showing me how many press-ups he could do. How many was it, Marky?"

"Fifty," I said. "Impressive, huh?" Janet gave a dubious and slightly hesitant smile. "That sounds a lot, Hun."

"He was pretty pooped when he'd finished, sis, I can tell you that," giggled Jessica. "It felt great, though, Hun," I said, grinning. "Fact, it felt amazing! I'd forgotten how enjoyable a really good physical workout can be. I'm going to do it regularly from now on. Your sister thinks that's a good idea anyway ... don't you, Jessica? 

"Oh most definitely, Mark."

"That's ok with you, Hun, isn't it?"

Janet nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, darling. It'll do you the world of good!"

"My thoughts exactly," I said, smirking at Jess. 

"Why don't YOU think about doing some regular exercise?" Jessica asked.

Janet smiled. "Me? Oh no, I'm not the sort."

"You might lose some weight, sis, if you did. Wouldn't you like that?"

The smile disappeared. "Well, not as I'm ..."

"Fat?" interrupted Jess. 

"Yes, exactly. I'm not fat, Mark, am I?" Jan was looking beseechingly at me. "You're not, Hun, no," I said. "No way."

She looked relieved. 

"Just a little on the dumpy side," I continued. "I mean, Hun, let's be totally honest here, you COULD do with losing some, couldn't you?" Janet was hurt but tried to laugh it off. "Ok, I suppose you're right. But you know how easily I put the pounds on."  

"Guess that makes it tough, sis, huh?" said Jess, nodding sympathetically. "So much easier to stay in shape if you're like me. I can eat absolutely heaps of whatever I like and my figure stays exactly the same. And as for exercise, well, let's face it, the only serious workouts I get involve tumbling around in bed with some man or other." 

"Jessica, honestly!" chided Janet. "Well, it's true," giggled Jess. "Anyway, you get plenty of that sort of exercise too, Mrs Taylor, right? Being a married woman and all. Lots more than me, I'm betting."

"Jess, stop it! You're embarrassing us both," I grinned. My wife had gone quiet, didn't for the moment seem to watch to catch my eye. "Yeah, so how about it, Hun?" I prodded. Janet looked up sharply. "What?"

"A diet. How about, starting tomorrow, you try and eat a bit less. What do you say? Do it for me?"

The implication that her losing weight would make me fancy her again worked wonders. "Yes, Hun, ok. Starting tomorrow. Definitely."

"Hey, no being stingy on the portions for me and Jess, though, right? Just less food for you. Ok, Hun?"