Faithful wife? Don't make me laugh.

I learned a long time ago: all women are the same, some just hide it well. Especially those who pretend to be untouchable and "faithful wives." My older brother, Gena, apparently never understood this. Six months ago, he married a girl named Lera. According to him, she was an angel incarnate: she cooked, cleaned, and, of course, everything was magical in bed. He even invited me over to get to know him, and I finally made the time. I arrived at their country house. They greeted me warmly. Lera really was pretty—short, well-built, with heavy breasts that she was clearly embarrassed to show, but which still drew the eye. She was wearing short shorts and a tight T-shirt, no bra. Her nipples were clearly visible. While Gena set the table, I undressed her with my eyes. My cock stirred inside me, as usual. We were sitting on the veranda, drinking wine. Gena kept praising his little Lera, how she was so good at housekeeping. She sat there, blushing and pouring us more wine. I joked a lot, telling funny stories, including some dirty ones. Gena was laughing out loud, and Lera smiled sheepishly, but looked at me with interest. For the night, they assigned me to the living room sofa. Their bedroom was on the second floor. That night, I went to the bathroom and, on my way back, heard distinctive sounds coming from upstairs. They were clearly enjoying themselves. I stood by the stairs, listening to the rhythmic creaking and Lera's moans. Arousal surged. I imagined her under her brother, and my hand instinctively reached for her groin. My brother woke me up early this morning. It turned out he urgently needed to go to work—he'd forgotten some documents at the office, and it was a long way to go. "Make yourself comfortable here, Lera will feed you," he said, getting ready. "I'll be back for lunch." "Don't worry, brother," I replied, stretching. "We'll figure it out." As soon as the door closed behind him, I walked into the kitchen. Lera was standing at the stove, frying eggs. She was wearing those shorts again. I came up behind her and stood close. “Mmm, it smells delicious,” I whispered in her ear, placing my hands on her waist. “It’s scrambled eggs,” she tried to joke, but her voice trembled. - I'm not talking about her. I abruptly turned her towards me and sank my lips into her neck. She flinched in surprise and tried to push me away. "What are you doing? Are you crazy? Gena might come back!" she hissed. "He just left," I answered calmly, squeezing her buttocks. "And that's what you want." - No! I'm not like that! She was like a captured bird—fluttering in my arms, but our strength was unequal. I lifted her shirt and pressed my lips to her firm breast. She screamed and grabbed my hair, but didn't push me away; on the contrary, she pressed my head against hers. "Just quickly," she groaned, giving in. "And just once." I laid her right on the kitchen table. I pulled down her shorts. She had no panties; she must have worn them in front of her husband. I spread her slender legs apart, and my rock-hard cock was instantly inside. It was tight and hot. She bit her lip to keep from screaming. I fucked her roughly, quickly, like a starving animal. The table shook beneath us. A few minutes later, without holding back, I cummed all over her. Lera lay on the table, her legs spread like a doll. My sperm was flowing out of her. But it wasn't enough. I turned her over onto her stomach and positioned her doggy style on the same table. She didn't resist, only moaned. I spread her buttocks and, having lubricated my cock with her juices, placed it against her anus. "No, not there!" she cried out in fear, turning around. “We have to, Lera, we have to,” I muttered and with one sharp thrust entered the entire length. She moaned loudly. The pain and humiliation had done their job. I felt her squeeze me from the inside. I came again, this time in her ass. Before I could catch my breath, I heard the sound of a car approaching. Gena was back. Lera jumped up in a panic, pulled up her shorts, and straightened her T-shirt. She was completely red and disheveled. “What should I do?” she whispered in horror. “First of all, go wash your face,” I replied, zipping up my fly. Gena walked into the kitchen with a bag of groceries. "So, how are you doing?" he asked, smiling. "Lera, why are you so red?" "It's simple, Gen," I answered for her. "Your wife and I decided to do some exercises. First, in the kitchen, on the table. Then she decided to try something new." Lera stood there, neither alive nor dead, not knowing where to go. "What do you mean?" Gena frowned. — Straight up. I shoved it in her pussy and ass while you were driving. She has a tight ass, I tell you. But I worked it out. It's better for you, brother. Enjoy it. Gena froze. He seemed unable to believe what he was hearing. And Lera was ready to disappear into thin air. "Okay, I'll be going," I said, picking up my bag. "Your home is quite welcoming. Come visit sometime. And bring her. Let's see what else she's learned." I winked at the stunned couple and left, leaving them to digest what had just happened.