I Confessed What I Do with My Brother-in-Law’s Wife

It was an autumn afternoon and that cold breeze was already blowing through the city, the kind that sometimes feels pleasant at dusk and other times goes straight to your bones. It was drizzling a little that day. It was past seven when I put the book down on my knees and stared out the window in the study, that small room in a medium-sized apartment that I had turned into my corner for reading and thinking. From there you could see the street, and the drops were beginning to dampen the pavement and the trees.

The phone rang once and cut off abruptly, without giving me time to answer. One ring, a signal. It had become the prelude to something that triggered all my masculine artillery. On the screen remained the missed call with the name I had saved for her: “Cat.” Right away a notification came in from a secret Telegram chat.

—Are you coming for me? —it said.

—I’m coming —I replied.

And with that one word, everything began. My heart sped up and I felt how, little by little, I was getting hard under my clothes. Once again like a fifteen-year-old kid.

While I went down to get the car, the memory of our first meeting came back in full. Her dark look, the gothic makeup, that brooding air that would never make anyone guess what she hid beneath it. A woman hungry for pleasure. A brown-skinned beauty with generous curves, big breasts, wide hips, long legs, and soft skin that seemed made to be bitten. Full lips, that mouth I had tasted several times over the past few months. Selene, my brother-in-law’s wife, who since a beach outing and a later encounter in a discreet hotel had become an addiction. A vice. An inexhaustible source of something that helped me bear the monotony.

I drove to a small square near the street where she worked. It was ten to eight. At exactly eight I saw the door of the place close. Her coworkers came out, and she was the last one, locked up, and started walking as if nothing had happened. She was wearing a short black dress, tight, so snug it marked the line of her thong between her buttocks. Thermal stockings, also black, because she was always cold, and a coat longer than the dress that gave her an elegant air. She took a detour around the square, looked at the storefronts of a couple of shops, and only then came up to the car, parked beneath some trees, half hidden. She opened the door and got in.

—It’s cold —she said, rubbing her hands.

I started the engine. I drove across the city until I got onto a side road, and the glow of the streetlights was left behind as the dark highway opened up ahead. On either side, vegetation and the silhouette of the mountain. She stayed silent the whole way. I drove a few more minutes until we reached a small house, hidden in the countryside, in the middle of nowhere.

—Tonight is going to be different —I told her as I turned off the engine.

She didn’t answer. She only looked at me out of the corner of her eye.

***

We went in and I closed the door. I threw some wood into the fireplace to drive the cold out of the room, and almost immediately warmth began to fill the place. She took off her coat and stood in the middle of the living room, looking around. There were two large sofas and an armchair that looked comfortable. The stone walls gave it a cozy feel: it was an old winery surrounded by vineyards. A narrow hallway led to a large kitchen; on the opposite side, another led to two bedrooms, one of them with a huge bed, beautifully made up and decorated.

Selene kept taking in the room with her eyes, touching the backs of the chairs, poking around. I came up behind her and wrapped my arms around her, feeling her round ass against my thighs and resting the bulge that was straining my jeans against it.

—You didn’t even say hello to me —I whispered in her ear.

She turned her head just a little and offered me her parted lips.

—Hi —she breathed out, brokenly.

At that moment words were unnecessary. My mouth went straight to hers, my tongue deep inside, hers answering with the same urgency. We melted into a wet, hot kiss. Despite the bra, her nipples pressed against the dress: she was already lit up, burning hotter than the fireplace. One hand went up to her breasts, the other down to her hips. My right hand found its way between her legs while my left kneaded one of her tits. She let out a moan when I reached her sex, that full sex that the thong barely covered. Under my fingers I felt the lace soaked through.

—Take my clothes off —she asked, in a thread of a voice.

I lifted her dress to her waist and saw that huge ass again, the thong lost between her buttocks. I pulled it off over her head and she was left in stockings and bra. She stepped away, took off her heels, slid her stockings down, and was left only in the black lace set, which looked gorgeous against her brown skin. A woman of curves in all their fullness, who had already overcome her insecurities and yet was trembling. Not from cold. From desire. I kissed her again and felt her skin goosebump beneath my hands. I took my fingers to her crotch, slid them under the minimal fabric, and found her completely soaked, so much so that the dampness was soaking through the lace.

—You’re a gentleman, you treat me like a princess —she said, pulling back a little—. A dark princess, who doesn’t live in a castle but in a temple of shadows. But today I don’t want to be a princess. Today I want to be a slut. The cheating woman you turned me into.

Her words instantly lit me up. I started to unzip my fly and she came closer quickly.

—Let me.

She pulled down my pants and underwear, and my erection stood right in front of her face, hard as a rock. She had that usual expression of wonder, as if it were the first time. She took me in her hand and started stroking me slowly while I unclasped her bra. Her breasts came free, heavy, swaying with every movement of her wrist. I finished undressing and sat down on the sofa. She knelt between my legs and rested her breasts on my thighs.

—I love this —she murmured—. You have no idea how much.

She wrapped me in her tits and held me there, trapped between them, watching the head of my cock appear again and again. Her pronounced veins had my eyes fixed. Then she took me into her mouth and began something unlike anything before: deep, filthy, shameless, as if she wanted to show me how far she could go. She worked the shaft from base to tip with her tongue, went back down, swallowed me again and sucked hard. With her other hand she was touching herself between her legs, masturbating while she devoured me.

***

I lifted her by the waist and made her sit on the edge of the sofa, legs spread.

—Now it’s my turn —I said, kneeling down.

I started to lick her. Her taste was delicious. Her sex was plump, shaved, smooth, the lips thick. I covered her clit with my mouth and slowly increased the intensity, the suction building and building. She threw her head back, eyes rolling up, completely surrendered. She didn’t realize what was coming. I took her by the thighs, lifted her a little, spread her legs as wide as they would go, and left her fully exposed to me, bathed in her own wetness. I buried my tongue where I could, slid two fingers inside her, then three, without stopping licking her clit, until she came with a long cry and a shudder that shook her whole body.

—Put it in me —she begged—. Please.

I did it without mercy, in one thrust and all the way in. With that position, I hit her so deep it tore a cry from her halfway between pain and pleasure. I kept thrusting and she screamed, lost. I saw a grimace and eased up, but right away she demanded the opposite.

—Harder —she panted—. Today I want you to break me. To make me feel everything.

I gave it to her hard. At the height of ecstasy I lost control and slammed into her with a force I didn’t know I had. Hips slapped, wetness snapped, and on her face I saw a different pleasure, almost sickly. Every so often a shudder ran through her that left her nearly unconscious, and I didn’t stop. I was in another dimension. My mind was split between letting go and holding back, because I wanted to keep going, I wanted to watch what I was provoking in her. She was mine. She was surrendered.

—Give it to me —she whispered—. Fill me up.

I felt a current run through me from head to toe and concentrate in a single point. I drove into her faster, deeper, and her screams shattered the silence of the house, broken, almost torn apart. Then the end came, a thick, unstoppable release. I saw tears streaming down her cheeks, her makeup running all over her face, a mix of broken doll and gothic figure that stayed burned into my memory.

***

I pulled out slowly once I had gone soft. She was still spread open, trembling, and curled onto her side on the sofa in the fetal position, sobbing.

I lay down beside her and held her in silence. She was still crying.

—What’s wrong? —I asked.

She took a while to answer. When she did, it was like opening a door to a part of her even I didn’t know. She turned toward me, eyes wide, darker than the night, her face still wet.

—Today you took my virginity —she said—. Not my body’s. My mind’s. My soul’s. You showed me my own darkness, you tore away something I thought was untouchable. And it turns out there’s a huge, dark place inside me I had never dared to enter. I want you to take me through it.

She fell silent for a moment and then, almost to herself, added:

—Sometimes you need a little more force to get beyond. I needed that force to discover what lives in me. You set me free.

I didn’t know what to say. I held her tighter while it kept drizzling outside, and I understood that that night, without knowing it, the two of us had crossed a line with no way back. And the worst part was that I didn’t want to go back.