This is an expanded and (we hope improved) version of the story "Bred by My Brother-In-Law" posted to Dark Wanderer by Jenny. A comparison will show this is still Jenny's story. HV has inserted some explanatory details and added dialogue. After posting of the expanded story, Sakka made some additional suggestions and added text that make the story even better, we think.
It all started out harmlessly enough. Ken and Suzie were over at our house having dinner -- again! I never particularly liked these occasions. Ken was resentful of his younger brother's success in business while he had remained strictly blue collar and he tried to hide his envy by constantly making off-color jokes and little references to their working class origins. My husband Jack, on the other hand, just liked his older brother, no matter, and paid no attention to the jibes. I, however, couldn't help but bristle. Ken was aware of, and reciprocated, my dislike for him by making jokes at my expense. Tonight he was on one of his favorite subjects.
"So, Jack-boy, when are you going to be puttin' a bun in the cute little oven of that prissy little girl you married? I'll guarantee you, the lovin' gets a whole lot better when a girl's got your baby in her, making her belly swell! They just can't get enough of the cock that put a baby in 'em, idn't that right, honey?" " he grinned and reached over to pat the prominent bulge in Suzie's tummy. Suzie just giggled and snuggled closer to Ken. "Guess that's one reason I'll be going for number four as soon as Suzie pops this one for me!"
Jack just laughed. "Katherine is up for junior partner this year, Ken. Not a good time to be starting a family. Besides she's is not really the 'mommy type.'"
I was grateful that Jack was sticking up for me, although I knew that part of him DID wish I stayed home cooking, cleaning and taking care of a houseful of babies, as his mother had done for his father and his seven brothers and sisters. I knew, too, he wished I'd meet him at the door each night eager for him to fuck my brains out. If I did, though, the same could happen to me as to MY mother. She had trained for years as an architect had been and I had seen the arrival of one baby after another delay and ultimately derail her plans for a career. I had inherited her wide hips and ample bosom and I was probably just as fertile. I was afraid even one a drop of semen at the wrong time would knock me up. I loved to fuck, as Mom must have, but worrying so much about getting pregnant ruined Jack's and my lovemaking. Not being able to take the Pill was another inheritance from Mom.
In fact, the more success I had as a lawyer, the more cautious I became. Even with rubbers, I seldom let Jack fuck me within a week of my "danger zone." Subtracting out my menses (Jack's problem not mine <sigh>) and the uncertainties of a rather irregular period, there weren't many nights I could relax and just get fucked. Nor -- knowing how easily I get turned on -- could I risk giving Jack head or letting him eat me in between times.
Of course, I didn't want to be a tease; I tried to keep Jack from getting too wound up when I wasn't going to be able to satisfy him. I started dressing more conservatively, seldom showing off my long legs and nice boobs in the frilly blouses, miniskirts, and strappy heels he loves. Fearing my own romantic reactions, I steered us away from candlelight dinners, wild parties, and going out dancing. I avoided wearing the sexy lingerie and sleepwear that Jack gave me for our anniversary and Valentine's Day and I had to be pretty careful about snuggling up close at night; it would have been too cruel. In a word, I steered clear of all those things that the women's magazines advise for putting the "spark" back in your marriage. I didn't want any sparks starting a fire I could not control.
Ken roared in laughter at Jack's comment. "Katie not the 'mommy type?' ANY woman is the 'mommy type' Jack-boy, once she's getin' fucked properly." Jack rolled his eyes; at least he got that insult. "Maybe you're not be doin' a good enough job on Miss Society Girl. I'd say ole Katie'd be a regular baby factory once you go her going. Look at those hips! Plenty of room in there for twins or even triplets. And those hooters, man, that girl could produce enough milk for quadruplets. How about it, Sis?" He leered at me, knowing how I hated for him to call me "Sis" or "Katie." "Doesn't my caveman brother throw you down and fuck you 'til you don't know or care whether he's knockin' you up or not?"
"Now look here, Ken," Jack said; "that's out of line."
"Sorry. Just my honest opinion."
I was fuming, meanwhile, feeling my hatred for Ken burning in my chest. I was actually glad Jack was mad, too, but -- unfortunately -- he calmed down later when Ken apologized and promised to come around -- while Jack was gone on a business trip -- and help me clean up the garage. I tried to wave off that suggestion -- furtively raising my hands in an "X" behind Ken's back -- but Jack didn't seem to notice.
When Ken and Suzie finally left that night, I helped Jack pack and the next morning I kissed him good bye for two weeks. Knowing we might miss the next "safe" window I decided to risk getting a couple of condoms ready, hoping to get a nice "good-bye" fuck that morning, but Jack was in a hurry and left me feeling pretty horny. Of course, I knew that wasn't the only reason; I was always horny in the middle of my cycle.
//Damn that Ken, // I thought, remembering what he'd said about me; //I feel so fucking horny... !// It annoyed me that Ken had my number; Mother Nature had given me a body made for making babies and a libido to make sure I had lots of opportunities. I got out the vibrator once I was alone, but it just made me hornier; I felt like I had an itch I couldn't scratch. Obviously, Mother Nature didn't agree with my brain's decision to wait about making babies.
Later that day, Ken came over. He was actually well behaved at first. Together, we cleaned out the garage, and he carried a lot of our junk up to the attic. It was kind of weird; although I didn't really like Ken, I wore a tight T-shirt, shorts, and strappy white high-heeled sandals -- exactly the kind of thing I never wore for Jack. I don't think I was actively trying to be a tease -- it was probably just my cycle, making me a little crazy -- but I sure got Ken's attention. Several times, I caught him glancing at my breasts, and nice long legs.
"How about a drink?" Ken suggested around lunchtime "I brought some sherry."
"Hmm. I like sherry," I admitted; "how old is it?"
"Must be expensive."
"Aren't you worth it," Ken grinned, feigning to put the bottle back in its bag.
"I'm worth it," I said -- with a whine that actually surprised me. Wound up tight as I was, I enjoyed a nice sherry or cognac now and then. Obviously, it was something Jack had let slip.
"I guess we'll see," Ken said, taking the bottle out again. While Ken poured some glasses, I put out some chips and sandwiches, and both of us sat down on opposite sides of the bar in the middle of the kitchen. We were talking about nothing at all, but I got a tingle seeing him glancing at my chest as we ate. The fortified wine went right to my head; I actually felt pretty good, knowing I was turning him on. The sherry must have been older, than he said -- probably as old as I was -- perfectly blended with aromatic gushes of fruitiness. I drank two or was it four glasses, and felt the numb happiness of intoxication slowly come over me. I no longer knew what Ken was talking about. Down between my thighs, I could feel my pussy getting wet.
"You okay, Sis?" Ken asked.
I tried to concentrate -- but I just ended up laughing when I tried to keep a straight face. I twisted my feet in my sandals -- the high heels hooked over the rungs of my barstool -- and felt completely silly. "Tha's... good sherry," I admitted, drunkenly, "but... it mus' be more 'n than ten years old."
"Yes; it cost me more than you probably make in an hour."
"Tha's... a lot."
"Yes, I'm sure it is, but then as you said, you are worth it!" Ken said ominously, suddenly standing up and walking around the bar. Although I hadn't realized it, he hadn't been drinking nearly as much as I.
"I can't stand up," I said, trying to lift my heels over the rung of the barstool. Ken just smiled, kneeling down to unbuckle my sandals. Coming loose from my feet, they hit the floor -- 'clunk... clunk'. Then Ken stood to face me, reaching right out to cup and squeeze my boobs.
"Boy that stuff works fast."
"Wha' are you talking 'bout," I asked sluggishly.
"Just the drug I put in your drink, Sis," he grinned. "They said it might take another half hour to hit you," he replied pulling me closer and nuzzling my neck.
"Drug?" I asked stupidly.
"Yes, just a little something to loosen up my in-control sister-in-law to make you one sleepy, horny little girl," he replied taking firmer control of the breast he was molesting.
"What do you think you're doing... ?" I asked.
"I think I'm going to fuck my horny little sister-in-law," he said, leaning in close to nuzzle my neck.
"No, no!" I tried to protest, but Ken just laughed.
"If you're not horny, Katie, why are your big boobs so hard?" I hadn't even realized when he put his hands inside my blouse. "Do you always get turned on so easily?" he taunted.
.... There is more of this story ...