My Husband’s Nieces

Posted on Posted in Stories

They were my husband’s nieces for God’s sake, and I couldn’t stop thinking about them.

Kim and Melanie. Both nineteen years old, the daughters of Eric’s sisters, visiting our home for Thanksgiving. It was the first time we’d seen them in six years and they’d changed beyond all recognition. No longer the gawky, awkward, chubby thirteen year olds from that family vacation in Florida. The pair had grown into beautiful women, sensual creatures with full breasts and long, long legs.

Oh God, why did they have to wear pantyhose?

From the moment I’d seen them step out of their moms’ cars, from the second I’d set eyes on their cut-off denim shorts and matching sheer black hose, they were all I could think about. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw them. Everywhere I went in my house, they were there. I couldn’t escape from them, whether in body or thought. It was maddening, baffling, shocking how much they had affected me. Their arrival had awakened dormant feelings of attraction, causing new sensations of longing and need that I just couldn’t deal with.

And now here I was, standing in the dim light of the hallway, peering through a thin crack in the door at the two girls as they relaxed on the floor of our guest bedroom. I knew it was wrong, I knew that if my husband or my sister-in-laws came home earlier than expected then the consequences would be horrific.

But I couldn’t help it.

I gazed into the room, captivated by the sight of them lying there, long legs stretched out behind them, soft nylon soles plainly visible, yards from where I stood. I felt my breathing quicken as I absorbed every detail. The gentle curve of their arches, the muted jewels of their toes beneath the dark, reinforced hose. The tantalizing glimpse of Kim’s control top beneath her shorts and the way her knee bent as she idly stroked her left foot along the length of her right leg. As I looked on, Melanie lifted her foot, swinging her lower leg back and forth in a girly, innocent way. My eyes followed the arc of her toes as it lazily swung back and forth. It felt like an invitation, a beckoning forward, an incitement to explore, to touch, to taste.

I pulled back, realizing at the last moment that I was drifting forwards into the room. My heart was hammering in my chest, a frantic rhythm that made me feel light headed. I felt sure they would hear me, that they would catch me spying on their young bodies. But they didn’t move, each girl lost in her own world of magazines and smartphones and boy bands.

Feeling emboldened, I slipped my hand into the waistband of my skirt, pushing my fingers down to my throbbing pussy. Oh God, I was so wet, wetter than I’d been in a decade of loveless marriage. I felt young and alive, a hot mix of shame and arousal rising like a fireball from my sex to ignite my senses.

As my fingers found my clitoris, I imagined what it would be like to touch the girls, how their nylon hose would feel under my trembling fingertips. Waves of pleasure began to wash over me sending chills up and down my spine. Every gentle press on that throbbing nub sent new sensations through my body, quickening my breath and sending my mind soaring. With each touch, the depth of the fantasy increased, pulling me down with the weight of its sordid detail.

I imagined Kim’s toes dancing before my eyes, I imagined smothering myself with her soft soles, burying my nose in her, breathing her young scent into me. I pictured myself licking and kissing Melanie’s heel, her ankle, the muscle of her calf, up her thigh to the warm place beyond. In my mind, the girls cavorted and played, undressing each other with heavy looks of lust and desire, beckoning me to join them as their naked breasts touched and their full, red lips came together. And all the while my fingers moved through my pussy, sliding easily in the dripping folds of my sex, faster and faster, working in tight spirals with an ever-increasing pressure.

Oh God, it felt so good, so wrong but oh-so-right. I wanted them like nothing I’d ever wanted in my life. An intense, animal longing that overrode my rational thoughts, pushing aside any sense of right and wrong with the desire to taste the girls, to touch them, to use them.

In no time at all, the orgasm rose from my sex like a tidal wave, blanking my thoughts and causing an intolerable tension in my body. As the white-hot burst of pleasure raged outwards, I felt my thighs slam together, trapping my hand between my legs. I lifted my head, eyes wide and mouth open, trying desperately to control the strong desire to scream out loud. I felt as though I was on fire, burning with a sweet ecstasy and intense lust.

And then it was over, departing as quickly as it had begun. The muscles in my arms and legs twitched, still working to the fading beat of the frantic climax, firing intermittently with gentle shudders. I sighed, as loud as I dared, feeling my body deflate as the glorious energy fell back to normal levels.

I gazed into the room, breathless and dizzy, barely able to believe what I’d done. Shame and guilt rose up to fill the vacuum left by my evaporating desire.

Then Kim turned to the door and locked her eyes on the dark crack as though she could see me standing there. I gasped, and immediately slammed my hand over my mouth. Melanie turned too, following the line of her cousin’s stare.

“Why don’t you come in Aunt Ella,” said Kim with a sultry purr, “it’s not fair that you get to play and we don’t!”


<