Caught by my sister in law

I am 37 now, but this all started when I was 20. I come from a close-knit family where everyone is expected to study hard, build a stable career, and maintain a respectable image. My older brother got married when I was still in college. His wife was 23 at the time, stunning in that classic way, smooth skin, long dark hair she usually kept tied back, and a curvy figure she kept hidden under modest outfits at family gatherings. Everyone saw her as the perfect wife: polite, helpful, always stepping up during holidays and dinners.

They lived in the same building as our parents, just two floors down. One weekend when I was 20, my brother asked me to drop off some documents at their place while they were out for a family event. I let myself in with the spare key. Their bedroom door was open, and on the bed lay a pile of her freshly washed lingerie, black lace panties, a deep red bra with matching thong, and a sheer nightie that looked far sexier than anything she wore in public.

Something came over me. I picked up the black lace thong. It felt incredibly soft and still carried her warm, feminine scent mixed with a light vanilla body lotion. My cock hardened immediately. I told myself I would only touch it, but seconds later my pants were around my ankles and the lace was wrapped tight around my shaft. I stroked hard, imagining her in that red set with her hair down, moaning my name instead of my brother’s. I came so intensely I had to sit on the edge of their bed afterward. Then I panicked, cleaned up as best as I could, folded everything back neatly, and left.

That moment turned into a secret addiction. Whenever my brother was away and she was at work, I would go over. I started casually checking if she was home before letting myself in. I would lie completely naked on their marital bed, using her panties to pleasure myself while breathing in the scent from the crotch of the ones she had worn the day before. Sometimes I would slip on her red bra and stroke until I filled another pair. The guilt was crushing, we are supposed to respect family boundaries, but the thrill kept me coming back for nearly two years.

Then one afternoon when I was 22, everything changed. She was supposed to be at a long work meeting. I let myself in, went straight to the bedroom, and had her black lace thong stretched around my hard cock when the front door opened.

Her voice called out. She stepped into the bedroom and froze. Her eyes widened at the sight of me, pants around my ankles, her used thong wrapped around my throbbing dick, hand still moving.

I stammered, “Please, I’m so sorry, don’t tell my brother, I’ll never do this again...”

She closed the door behind her slowly. Her cheeks flushed but her voice stayed calm. “Stop talking. I want to see exactly how you do it with my things.”

I stared at her, stunned. She crossed her arms, pushing up her full breasts under her simple top. “Show me. Stroke it the way you do when you sneak in here.”

My heart was racing. Slowly I started moving my hand again, the lace sliding over my shaft while she watched. Her breathing grew heavier. After a minute she sat on the edge of the bed, eyes locked on my cock.

“Faster,” she whispered. “Like you do when you’re thinking about me.”

I obeyed, pumping harder. She bit her lower lip. “All this time you’ve been using your brother’s wife’s panties… does my smell make you cum harder than any girl your age?”

I groaned and nodded. She gave me a wicked little smile I had never seen before.

“Good. Finish for me. I want to watch.”

I only lasted a few more seconds before I exploded, thick ropes of cum soaking her black thong. She picked it up, examined the mess, and said softly, “Next time clean it properly. And let me know before you come. I might want to see this again.”

That was the beginning of our secret.

From then on I would call upon her when my brother had late hours at work. She would tell with just “Come.” At first she only watched, slipping her hand under her clothes while I played with myself with whatever lingerie she picked out. She loved telling me how my brother was always too quick and never took the time to satisfy her properly. “You stroke so patiently,” she would say, “so hungry for me.”

One afternoon she finally touched me. I was kneeling on their bed wearing her red thong when she crawled over and wrapped her soft fingers around my cock. “Let me feel how hard my brother-in-law gets for me,” she murmured. She stroked me slowly, then leaned down and took me into her warm mouth. Seeing her, always so proper at family dinners sucking me while looking up with those big eyes drove me wild. She swallowed every drop, licking her lips afterward.

After that we crossed every line. She began wearing the lingerie under her normal clothes just for me. One afternoon she greeted me wearing only a sheer black babydoll and white stockings. She pushed me onto the bed, climbed on top, and sank down onto my cock with a deep moan. “You’re thicker than him,” she gasped as she started riding me. “Fuck me properly. Make me cum the way he never can.”

I grabbed her wide hips and thrust up hard, the wet sounds of her pussy filling the room. She rode me desperately, her heavy breasts bouncing, long hair loose and messy. When she came she squeezed around me so tightly I filled her completely, right there on the same bed she shared with my brother.

We kept this going for the next few years. Quick, intense sessions in the afternoon while my brother was at work. Long, slow fucks whenever he was away on business trips. She loved making me keep her lace panties on while I took her from behind, the fabric rubbing against us with every thrust. She would whisper “We shouldn’t be doing this… but I can’t stop wanting you” right before she orgasmed.