My Brother-in-Law’s Fantasy Came True in My Living Room

The afternoon of the encounter, the silence in the living room was so dense it was hard to breathe. Hugo was sitting in the armchair, his hands clasped over his knees, his posture rigid and his gaze fixed on the floor. Bruno and I occupied the large sofa. I was wearing old jeans and a loose sweater, trying to maintain an air of normality that clashed brutally with what we were about to do.

I cleared my throat. Both of them looked up at me at once.

—Hugo… —I began, lowering my eyes for a second and feeling a genuine blush rise up my neck—. I confess I’m dying of embarrassment. I’ve been on the verge of backing out a thousand times this week. I’ve gone over it so many times and, if I’m honest, it was Bruno who helped tip the scales toward yes.

He nodded slowly, swallowing.

—I’m incredibly grateful to both of you —he murmured, his voice a little hoarse—. Really.

—But before we do anything, I need to understand it properly —my husband cut in, in a firm tone but without the harshness of the previous days—. When you were with Sandra and fantasized… how exactly was it? Did she imagine it too? Was it a swap, was it a threesome?

My brother-in-law hesitated for a moment, rubbing his palms against his trousers, but he knew he wasn’t in a position to hide anything.

—It was a threesome —he confessed, looking me in the eyes—. Always a threesome with you taking part with us. And Sandra liked it. She really came to enjoy it. As I told my brother, we were very close to seriously suggesting it to you more than once.

I crossed my legs, trying to take in the image.

—There’s something I don’t understand —I said, frowning with an insecurity that, for once, wasn’t entirely fake—. Your ex is a woman who takes very good care of herself. She lives at the gym, watches what she eats to the millimeter… And look at me. I’m the prototype of a curvy girl, with my extra pounds, my belly, my wide hips. What is it about my body that attracts you so much you got this far?

He sighed and leaned back a little in the armchair, as if the mere mention of my body both relieved and tortured him in equal measure.

—Sandra has a beautiful body, yes. But you drive me crazy. I find you very attractive overall, and, above all… your breasts —he explained, with a raw honesty that raised the hairs on my arms—. Hers are small, very firm from sport, but they never really responded no matter how much I caressed them. I couldn’t enjoy them the way I would have liked. Yours, on the other hand… Besides, she was my only girlfriend. I’ve never known what it’s like for a woman to envelop you with her breasts. And I’ve spent years imagining it with you.

I felt a stab of heat low in my belly. The devotion in his words was a lethal aphrodisiac. Bruno, beside me, cleared his throat, also affected by the confession.

—Good —I said, placing my hands on my knees and getting to my feet. The interview was over—. Before we start, I remind you of today’s only rule: I decide what happens and how far it goes. You do not take any initiative. Understood?

—Understood —he answered without hesitation.

—Perfect. Help me move the coffee table to make space. And then sit together on the two-seater sofa. I’ll be back in a moment.

I went to the bedroom and closed the door. I took my time. I pulled my hair into a casual bun and applied subtle makeup: a little mascara and a nude lipstick that gave me a natural but polished look.

Then I took off my everyday clothes and put on the outfit I had chosen for the occasion: a black lace bodysuit, completely transparent. It covered my breasts and sex delicately, but without hiding absolutely anything. It left my belly bare, had a plunging back, and ended in a tiny thong that disappeared between my ass cheeks.

To finish, I slipped on a pair of matching sheer stockings that clung to my skin like a second layer. The dark fabric outlined the curve of my thighs and elongated my ankles in an exquisite way. Knowing Bruno’s weakness for my legs, I knew I had just stepped into a seduction weapon.

***

When I returned to the living room, the two men were sitting side by side, in sepulchral silence, like two strangers in a waiting room.

When they saw me appear in the doorway, both of them were left speechless. The impact of knowing my husband was there, watching his brother see me almost naked in person for the first time, hit me full force. A violent blush set my cheeks on fire. For an instant, modesty got the better of me: I made the instinctive move to cross my arms over my belly and chest, hunching my shoulders, overwhelmed by the weight of their gazes.

But I took a deep breath and resigned myself to the fantasy I had orchestrated myself. I let my arms fall to my sides and straightened up, allowing them to see me completely. I took a couple of slow steps, turning my hips slightly so they could appreciate every angle of my body, letting the black lace frame my curves under the warm light of the living room.

—Well? —I broke the silence, letting my gaze travel from one to the other—. What do you think of my choice? Do you think it suits me?

Bruno let out a trembling sigh, nodding like an automaton. Hugo, however, was unable to utter a single word.

I walked until I was standing right in front of my brother-in-law. His breathing was uneven; his eyes were dilated, fixed on my cleavage.

—You can touch them —I whispered, giving him permission.

He raised trembling hands and placed them on my breasts, over the lace. He let out a muffled moan at the volume and weight. A few seconds later I myself slid the sheer fabric aside, freeing them completely. Hugo closed his eyes for a moment, dazzled, and began to massage them bare, feeling the texture of my skin and paying almost reverent attention to my nipples, already hardened beneath his fingertips.

Seeing that devotion emboldened me. I decided to give him a little more rope.

—You can kiss them —I murmured.

He didn’t need me to repeat it. He bent down with an urgency that was almost painful and buried his face in my cleavage. He started kissing me with unbridled hunger, the hunger of someone who has spent years dying of thirst in front of a forbidden fountain. It was so intense that for a second I feared I might lose control myself. I couldn’t allow that. I held his head firmly, buried my fingers in his hair to stop the chaos, and guided his mouth to my left nipple, forcing him to focus. He understood the message instantly. He closed his lips around the areola and began to play with the tip using his tongue and perfect suction. I felt the wet heat of his mouth and the cold trail his saliva left as it mixed with the air. A very real shiver ran down my back; he was doing it damn well, better than I had expected.

I let him enjoy himself for a couple of minutes until I decided it was enough. I stepped back, out of his reach, leaving his wet lips in the air. Hugo let his hands fall to his lap and took a deep breath, frustrated by the interruption but obedient.

***

Then I knelt on the floor, but not in front of him, rather between Bruno’s legs. My husband looked at me with pupils dilated by the spectacle he had just witnessed. I unfastened his belt and pulled down his trousers and underwear to his knees. Just as I expected, nerves and the surreal fact of having his brother beside him had done a number on him: he was completely limp.

Far from bothering me, it seemed like the perfect opportunity. I leaned in and took him all the way into my mouth. I began to suck gently, using my lips and tongue to wake him up, wrapping the base with my hand, feeling with satisfaction how he gradually responded, swelling inside my mouth. As I did it, I turned my face just enough to pin my eyes on the other man, who was devouring the scene, frozen.

I pulled Bruno’s cock out with a wet snap, leaving it glossy and already hard in my hand, and I smiled at my brother-in-law, licking my lips.

—Tell me something —I asked, without stopping jerking off my husband at a steady pace—. Is it the same live as in the videos on the computer, or is it better?

—It’s… it’s infinitely better —he stammered, hypnotized by the movement of my hand.

I smiled, satisfied. I kept going a little longer until I felt Bruno completely surrendered. Then I stopped, braced myself on his thigh, and looked at him.

—Baby… —I purred—. Do you think your brother would also like it if I did it to him?

He looked at Hugo, then lowered his eyes to my wet lips and gave a half-smile, surrendered to the dynamic I was imposing.

—I’m sure he would —he answered.

***

I crawled across the carpet, moving on all fours with a feline cadence, until I was kneeling between my brother-in-law’s legs. He looked down at me, breathing shallowly, completely at my mercy.

I decided the visual torture was over, but the physical one would require infinite patience. I started undressing him with maddening slowness. I took off his shoes by undoing the laces one knot at a time, as if I had all the time in the world. Then the socks. I slid my hands up his calves to the buckle of his belt; the metallic click as I unfastened it echoed through the living room. I pulled his trousers and underwear down at once, dragging the fabric slowly over his thighs until he was exposed.

Once released, his erection sprang forward, throbbing hard against his stomach. I already knew its magnitude from that afternoon in front of the computer, but having it again just inches from my face, with no screen and no excuse between us, gave me a genuine jolt of surprise. It was magnificent.

I decided to change gear: no coldness or sharp domination. I opted for an almost devout tenderness, that of an inexperienced woman facing her lover’s body for the first time and afraid of hurting him. I lifted my hand and started stroking him only with my fingertips, tracing his whole length from the base, feeling the ridge of each vein under the hot skin. When I reached the tip I found his arousal overflowing. I gathered the moisture already beading there and spread it along the shaft with even softer caresses, until my hand slid with perfect friction.

I jerked him off slowly with one hand, but his size soon forced me to use both, intertwining my fingers to encompass him. As my hands moved up and down, I shifted my attention to his testicles: I cupped them in my palms and kneaded them gently, making him jerk involuntarily.

I let go of his shaft, not to stop, but to give him, all at once, his greatest obsession. I leaned forward, grabbed the naked weight of my own breasts —still free outside the lace— and pressed them together hard in the center, creating a deep, warm, soft groove. With a smooth motion I trapped his erection right there, in the middle of my cleavage.

He let out a rough moan that rose from the depths of his throat when he finally felt that soft, overwhelming pressure he had been fantasizing about for years.

I started to move. I raised and lowered my torso slowly, wrapping his entire length with my breasts, letting the friction of my skin and his own moisture act as natural lubricant. It was a caress unlike hands: enveloping, suffocating. My nipples slipped free between my fingers, tormenting him in equal measure. I looked up to savor the sight: Hugo had his head tipped back, but his eyes were wide open, refusing to blink so he wouldn’t miss a single detail. His knuckles were white, his fists clenched against the sofa, trying to anchor himself to reality, overwhelmed by the ecstasy of living in his own flesh what he had imagined so many times.

His size worked in our favor. While my breasts crushed around him, the tip stood out defiantly above the cleavage, just inches from my chin with each thrust. It was too tempting an image. Taking advantage of the momentum of one of my upward strokes, I bent my neck, parted my lips, and caught the protruding tip on the fly. He let out a broken moan when he felt my mouth close around him while my breasts kept working the base. I teased him for only a few seconds, tracing the contour with my tongue, before pulling back and leaving him wanting.

***

I turned my head to look at my husband. Bruno, unable to withstand the sight of me pampering his brother’s cock with such devotion, had given in: he was reclined on the sofa, masturbating furiously, his jaw clenched.

I knew exactly which buttons to press.

—My love… —I murmured, stroking the base of Hugo while holding Bruno’s gaze—. I didn’t remember there being such a difference between you. It’s enormous. I’m almost afraid to try to take it all.

His expression was priceless: a mix of humiliation, pure arousal, and surrender.

I turned my attention back to the man in front of me. I opened my mouth as wide as I could, flattened my tongue, and lowered myself onto him. The first part slid in easily thanks to my saliva, but soon I felt the resistance. I forced myself to swallow, straining my throat muscles to make room for such thickness. The effort was titanic; the lack of air hit me almost at once and my eyes filled with tears by pure reflex, but I kept pushing, feeling him stretch me from within. I got far, though his size prevented me from taking him down to the root on that first try.

I held on a few more seconds before pulling back, taking him out with a loud smack. I was left panting, my lips shining and a thread of saliva hanging from my chin. Mascara had smeared, drawing dark streaks on my cheeks that made the image even wilder.

My ego demanded a complete victory. I didn’t ask him for it, but my husband, who was still punishing himself on the sofa at a frantic pace. I needed to stop him; if he crossed the line now, he’d be out of the game too soon.

—Bruno… —I called in a rough whisper, holding out my hand—. Come here. Help me try once more. Push my head down.

The request froze him for an instant, but the depravity of the order was an irresistible magnet. He let go of his own erection, leaving it throbbing red, and leaned forward. His hot, trembling hands tangled firmly in my hair, which was gathered up.

I opened my mouth again, lined up my lips with Hugo’s enormity, and started swallowing him while my husband applied relentless pressure to my nape, forcing me down to the hilt. The friction was brutal. Growls of effort burst from my throat, guttural sounds that died muffled with my mouth completely full, while Bruno’s hands kept me anchored to that shared humiliation.

This time the barrier gave way. I felt the tip slide past my pharynx and my nose sink into the warmth of his pubic mound. The effort made me produce even more saliva, which ran uncontrollably from the corners of my mouth, soaking the base. I held out at the limit of my strength before giving Bruno a blind tap on the thigh so he would loosen his grip.

I pulled back very slowly, freeing him millimeter by millimeter with an endless wet trail. My face was congested, burning from lack of air and effort, but my lips curved into a smile of deep satisfaction. I had done it.

***

Without losing the rhythm, I straightened a little and spread my knees to position myself right in the space between the two brothers. I gathered with my fingers all the thick saliva I had just produced and extended my hands. With my right I grabbed Hugo’s wet erection; with my left, I wrapped around Bruno’s. And there, in the middle of that silence loaded with heavy breathing, I began to jerk them both off at the same time.

My hands closed around both of them, delighting in the brutal difference in thickness that now filled my palms. I began with slow, steady motions, pulling the skin over their shafts in unison, revealing their tips little by little under the friction of my saliva. The sensation of having my husband’s and my brother-in-law’s virility literally at my mercy gave me an absolute intoxication of power. I kept a steady rhythm while playing with my gaze: I looked down to see my fingers sliding over the swollen flesh, then lifted my eyes to pin them on one man, and seconds later on the other. I forced them to look at me, to be aware that at that moment they belonged to me completely.

Overwhelmed, perhaps trying to cling to some measure of control, both of them instinctively sought their share of contact. Almost in sync, they raised a trembling hand toward me. Bruno’s fingers brushed my side until they reached my right breast; his brother’s large hand settled over the left. They began to caress me, searching clumsily and desperately for the hard ridge of my nipples. Far from moving them away, I let their touches feed my own arousal while my hands kept dictating the tempo of their pleasure.

And then I understood that the real prize of the night was neither of their bodies, but that certainty: the two brothers, so different, so proud each in his own way, were breathing to the rhythm I set. I stopped the motion dead, leaving both of them gasping on the edge of desperation. I got to my feet slowly and hooked my thumbs into the straps of the bodysuit.

—Now it’s my turn —I said, pulling the fabric down over my shoulders—. And you’re going to have to earn it.

I let the lace fall to my feet and nudged it aside with my heel. Naked except for the dark stockings, I looked down at them, savoring the anticipation on their faces. I had orchestrated every step of that night to arrive exactly at that instant: them surrendered, me in command, and all the accumulated thirst waiting, finally, to be quenched on my own terms.