My Pregnant Sister in Law Ch. 03

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Kathleen’s plans for our furtive trip to Bristol were almost scuppered by an unexpected twist of fate represented by the arrival, the day before our journey south, of a genuine notification of an appointment with her gynaecologist. This, when combined with the dates for the fake appointments that had caused her so much troubled conscience, made it necessary for us to spend three nights alone together at her house in Bristol. On hearing this, my mother insisted that she accompany us to look after Kathleen who was after all 8 months pregnant; and so it seemed that we would not be alone at all.

But fate and accidents seldom come alone and my mother, the evening before our journey and with bags already packed and plans made, managed to slam her hand in the car boot door and had to be driven to hospital. The result was broken bones and a plaster cast and a period of blissful though guilty freedom for Kathleen and I.

As we said goodbye to my mother we were reticent, shy even, and we may have given the impression, to anyone watching, of being merely acquaintances as we got in the car and drove away. But as we rounded the corner Kathleen quickly resumed her usual position beside me, arm over my seat back and occasionally caressing my neck as we drove. But she was not her usual self, she seemed reserved and tired so I took the initiative and began explaining the guilty feelings I had struggled with since last we made love.

I had a sense of guilt for what I felt must have seemed to be my disrespect for her while making love at the old Mill. I was afraid she might feel that shoving my finger in her anus, that shouting at her and that forcing her to submit to me was disrespectful and that there was no harmony in our love making; but as always she was sympathetic and anxious for me to know it was all ok.

“You surprised me that afternoon; but darling, it was pure unadulterated physical indulgence I experienced in our lovemaking. There was disharmony in the details but harmony in the whole and contrast is everything. We were there to make love and we did, the rest is just spice. Be happy about it my sweet.”

My worries and her concern for me seemed to enliven her and I was glad to hear her voice come to life and after a while she began to explain about her brothers.

“We were a big family of 10 children though that wasn’t unusual where I grew up. My three oldest brothers and a sister had moved out so we were 5 children at home.”

I interrupted and corrected her “The older brothers and the sister and you five makes nine; you said you were ten children”

She poked me hard in the shoulder;

“Don’t interrupt. The tenth was my sister Irene; she died of Tuberculosis when she was five.”

She was quiet for a long while then continued slowly as if re-examining the past, making sure she got the facts right.

“I was lucky. As the oldest and the only girl I slept alone, my four brothers slept two in a bed. My father was a carpenter in a factory and he had fixed a small bed in an alcove under the stairs. A curtain kept it private and I had the library books I’d borrowed on a shelf.”

She laughed at the memory of it.

“The shelf kept falling down on me and the books would wake me at night but he never fixed it.”

She let the comment hang in silence and I wondered about her father, the 10 kids and the tuberculosis until she continued.

“One night I woke suddenly. It was one of my elder brothers falling in drunk from the street. He hadn’t found his way home to his wife so he thought he’d stay with us. I don’t know which one it was but It was a Saturday night , I was almost 20 and he took my virginity.”

I gasped and tried to express my sympathy by saying something about being surprised she’d not been traumatised but she didn’t seem to notice.

“It hurt the first time and I was frightened but it only happened occasionally until I inadvertently found a perfect way of turning him away.”

She paused as if expecting me to ask how she thwarted him. Then she continued anyway.

“I was on the rag and he discovered that while removing my panties. He gasped with disgust and fled.”

I was shocked and couldn’t answer; I had never been exposed to anything like this before. But she laughed at the memory and as if answering my silence, continued;

“Darling, I was menstruating; I had my period if you want to call it that and I had a sanitary towel under my pants and he was horrified. I wore a towel often after that.”

She laughed scornfully at the memory;

“It was just like a crucifix repelling Dracula! But that’s the church for you; the reason that you, once every month, cannot rape the girl you are abusing is not because it’s wrong but because SHE is unclean.”

She raised her voice in exasperation;

“If the church can teach the faithful to abstain from sex with a woman who’s bleeding why the hell can’t they stop grown men raping young women God Damn It.”

She was very irritated now and muttered fiercely under her breath. kurtulu┼č escort After a while she pointed out of the window.

“Pull in here, I need a cup of tea.”

We pulled into a road side cafe and I helped her out of the car and she took my arm. In the caf├ę we passed two girls who stared at Kathleen’s swollen belly and I saw their wondering and could read their thoughts; His Mother? His big sister? Surely not his partner? and I felt suddenly proud to have her on my arm and wanted the world to know she was my lover.

We had cake and afternoon tea, she had a pee and we left the caf├ę passing the same two girls and as we passed their table she stopped and turning to me pulled me down to her mouth and gave me a lingering kiss.

“Thank you” she said as we walked slowly out to the car park.

“For what?”

“For wishing that they knew I was yours.”


“I can read you like a book my sweet.”

We had driven in silence for more than ten miles before she took up the thread of her story again.

“I was telling you about my brothers. Well, I never knew which of my elder brothers it was who visited me; but I was curious about the effect my femininity had on men and I began experimenting on my younger brothers.”

She laughed at the thought.

“I was well developed as a 20 year old, I had a good slim figure and generous breasts and men were always looking. I found out that if i teased any of my younger brothers they would do anything for me.”

“You weren’t cruel to them where you?”

“In hindsight you may well have said that but at the time it was good clean fun and seeing their admiration was an important confirmation of my worth.”

“Did you tutor them?”

“Sexually? No darling, not at all; it was like this; I was a developing young woman, my hormones were rushing around wildly and I was both horny and curious so I egged them on.”

“Egged them on; what did you say to them?”

I didn’t actually say anything but if I teased one of them, maybe wore a blouse and no bra, then I knew he would come creeping when everyone was asleep.”

“And then you made love?”

“No, not at all. I feigned sleep and had my curiosity satisfied.”

She had her hand on my arm and shook it to get my attention. I turned towards her and she smiled anxiously as if wanting to be sure I believed her.

“I feigned sleep and let them explore me.”


“Why what, darling?”

“Why did you feign sleep; couldn’t you have told them what you wanted?”

“At that age i didn’t know what I wanted but I could enjoy their explorations while not taking the blame; I was after all, asleep and not responsible and in that way I could have my cake and eat it!”

And she hugged me and pulling my face to her mouth kissed me quickly.

“Of course in an adult that attitude would merely be a dereliction of responsibility but not in a 20 year old girl playing with 19 year old boys.”

“But who would blame you?”

“You would be surprised; misplaced sexuality is always the woman’s fault it seems. I didn’t know what I wanted really. I was curious and horny and by feigning sleep I could let them explore me, but on my terms. They were frightened and uncertain but couldn’t resist the temptation and if it was getting out of control I merely had to pretend I was waking and they fled.”

She was amused now and explained enthusiastically.

“It may seem silly now but it was real turn on. Sometimes I’d relax my legs so they could push them apart and lay in between. Oh! those boys were so sweet and inquisitive”

She clapped her hands with delight.

“When I think of those slim cocks stabbing wildly, trying to find the way in; oh, what desperation. We had led strict and sheltered lives and knew nothing despite our age”

She was excited and amused now, I knew her well enough to recognise her tone of voice and felt her growing excitement echoing in me; I was getting horny and I had no doubt she was too.

“Occasionally it would happen that they entered me, pressing their slender penises into my wet fanny. Sometimes I couldn’t resist the temptation to continue so I’d lay passive so as not to frighten them away; I was after all sleeping.”

She chuckled and was clearly reliving the memory.

“But as I said; if things were getting out of hand I would pretend to waken and that would frighten them away.”

She stopped as if suddenly shocked by what she’d said.

“Do you think I am awful? Was I cruel?”

I had an erection by now and having no answer for her i leaned across and lifted her hand to my crotch.

“You’re getting an erection; so, you liked my story.” She said and squeezed my cock for a while.

I wondered if she would take it further but after a few minutes of stroking she continued.

“I was excited by their exploring’s; they seemed fascinated by my breasts and would often suck and pull at my nipples. That made me really wet down levent escort there.”

She squeezed my cock as if to emphasise “Down There.”

“Another night I got the fright of my life; I had a boy on each side of me; it was my twin brothers. Oh dear; they each had one hand on my breasts and their other hand racing each other to find my vagina. The bumping and pushing and the squabbling fingers sliding around down there gave me the first orgasm I hadn’t rubbed on myself.”

She flashed a quick coquet and asked me again; “Am I awful? You’d tell me if you thought I was awful, wouldn’t you?

“No, not at all Kathleen, go on.”

“Well, one evening my visitor even licked my fanny; goodness knows where he got the inspiration for that from. I remember wishing he’d continue but he crawled back up and tried to find the way in to my fanny with his cock.”

She sighed deeply.

“If only I’d been privy to their thoughts,” she said.

“I so wish I’d known what they were thinking when they kissed me or known what they wondered when their fingers slipped into my wet vagina. Did they think I was always so wet and slippy down there?”

“All this kissing and fingering got me really excited and when I found myself nearing orgasm I would pretend to wake and they would scamper off back to their beds. Then I would finger myself until I came; it was so easy, and so lovely. Sometimes when I was very horny I would guide the handle of my hairbrush inside my fanny.”

I gasped and moved awkwardly in my seat, I had a painful erection.

“You’re liking this aren’t you?”

And as if to knock me back, as if to dampen my desire she summed up the tale as it had developed.

“It ended when one of my brothers betrayed me in the confessional and I was called in to the church by the priest. It was a Friday and both my parents were at work; of course the priest knew that; he knew everything. His housekeeper was there, at least at first, then she excused herself and left; “I’ll make sure you are not disturbed father” she said and left me at the mercy of a grown man.”

“The father wanted to examine me, he said he needed to know if what he’d heard was true but he wouldn’t tell me what he’d heard. When he had his hand in my pants he got very excited. I remember his face was blotchy and red and he was breathless.”

I was horrified; “Kathleen, you don’t need to explain if it’s painful.”

But she was in full flight now, her temper was up and she continued scornfully.

“That bastard! He had the gall to call me a sick temptress and a jezebel! And all the time he had his finger in my hole. He could not resist my femininity and the hypocrite had the gall to call what I had between my legs “the entrance to eternal damnation.” Not even then did he stop fingering me.”

She was burning now, her exclamations stabbed the air and I dared not interrupt her.

“But then he gets his cock out and makes me suck it; He said it would make it all better again. His fingers forced my mouth open and he crammed it in; I could hardly breathe. The bastard came quickly; lots, in my mouth, no warning and I didn’t know what to do, so….”

She was in tears now; not submissive and guilty tears but defiant tears cried from sure and righteous anger and when she continued I realised she was certain of her own worth, certain she had no self-doubt or guilt and I was relived.

“So I spat it all out and ran! The last I saw of him he was looking dazed and angry with a great wet and shiny smear down the front of his robe. It looked like the mark of some exclusive religious order.”

She laughed scornfully;

“The Holy Order of Child Abusers perhaps” But that was the end of it, my brothers never came to me in the night again. Playing with me was a ticket to hell and damnation no doubt. I was never in church again; the time I would have wasted in church I used for reading and doing homework. I got my exams and went to university. I escaped; I got out of a life of just producing kids in Liverpool.”


Our arrival at Kathleen’s house was subdued. We didn’t fall in the door and start making love. Kathleen carried her pregnant belly carefully now and that, combined with her burst of outrage in the car had tired her. I put the kettle on and made tea; she checked the house quietly, obviously glad to be back. I followed her for a while studying her reactions as she walked from room to room picking up familiar objects, straightening a picture here and there before announcing tiredly;

“I must lie down; I need a nap. If you mow the lawn you can wake me when you’ve finished.”

“But the lawnmower, won’t it wake you?”

She blushed.

“I can sleep through anything” she said and grinned self-consciously as if remembering what she’d said about her brothers. I joked that I would perhaps put the depth of her sleep to the test and she cracked a grin.

“You’re more than welcome to try.”

I needn’t have worried about keeping her awake, the ma├žka escort lawn mower refused to start and I soon found the reason, a cracked spark plug. Kathleen gave me directions and I walked out and found the garage she’d recommended and bought a new spark plug. On the way back I bought some flowers at a market stall and back at the house entered quietly and heard her call down to me.

“Did you find what you needed?”

I answered yes and asked if she had a flower vase.

“Flower vase? Which flowers?” and I heard her come out of her room to the top of the stairs. So I unwrapped the flowers and very self- consciously took them up to her.

“Did you buy these for me?”

Taking the flowers from me she buried her face in them and began to cry long sobbing waves of tears. Confronted by her show of emotions I just didn’t know what to do. Here was a grown up crying and I lacked the maturity to cope; she had always taken the lead, had always been in control and now dismayed by her emotions I could only embrace her awkwardly, frightened of both squeezing the baby and crushing the flowers.

After a while, when she seemed quieter, I picked her up and carried her into her bedroom. Laying her on the bed I tried vainly to rescue the flowers but they were locked in her exhausted grasp so I pulled the continental quilt over her and left her to sleep.

It wasn’t much of a garden she had and I was soon finished mowing the lawn and tidying the beds. I unpacked the car as quietly as I could and put the food we’d brought with us in the fridge. In a cupboard I found a vase and filled it with water.

After a couple of hours I heard her moving around upstairs so I took her Tea and Toast and the vase and found her vainly trying to tidy the crushed and bruised flowers. She looked bashfully at me, her glance went from the vase to the flowers and she began to cry again.

“I’m sorry Kathleen. What did I do?”

“Silly! You haven’t done anything wrong; you showed you care. I may have been as horny as hell these past months but there’s more to us than just fucking. I have never fantasized about shagging strangers. What we have; well, it’s more than just sex, it’s about caring.”

She waved a hand awkwardly in my direction;


Taking my handkerchief gladly she began dabbing her eyes and between sobs said;

“People are wrong you know; they think I’m self-sufficient and strong; I’m not that tough you know, I’m alone and I have only you.”

So, the flowers went in the vase, she had her Tea and Toast and afterwards we lay together on her bed until she drifted off again and I left her to sleep.

I looked in at her two hours later and was rewarded by a tiny muffled voice coming from deep under the duvet and commanding my attention.

“Come here and give me a kiss, you lovely bugger.”

Kathleen was herself again after her afternoons rest and she busied herself around in the kitchen making dinner. We were having spaghetti and she joked gaily about this being an important part of my next lesson.

“Which, “next lesson?”

She just laughed and blushed;

“You’ll see, you’ll see; all in good time.”

“This is Spaghetti, proper spaghetti, not those tinned worms some people eat.”

I knew nothing about proper spaghetti and wondered how the handful of dried and brittle sticks she held for me to see could be transformed to anything edible but like every new experience with Kathleen I was on a short trip to enlightenment.

But something was amusing her and as we ate I felt she was teasing me. As a novice spaghetti eater, I often ended up having to suck up the long strands and ended with a sauce stained chin but the sight of my pursed lips, and the sound of my sucking seemed disproportionally amusing to her. What was so funny I wondered? Eventually she began to explain;

“Six of my best friends and I have a girl’s group where we get together at each other’s houses and eat a meal together. We bitch and complain about politics, work, careers, sex and men. Cunnilingus has been a recurring theme, especially when we’ve had red wine.”

I knew neither the why, where, when or what of Cunnilingus and said so.

Kathleen grinned wildly and broke out into hearty laughter.

“Then listen carefully sweetie; Cunnilingus is fanny licking, but it’s much more than that, as I will show you in a while. What I’ll tell you is a summary of 7 ladies experiences, desires and disappointments.”

She laughed again and continued eagerly;

“This information is worth a fortune! In fact this knowledge will transform your love life. It’s so important that you aught to pay me cash for it, so you must listen carefully!”

She emptied her glass and continued gaily. I had seen this side of Kathleen before and was prepared for anything.

“Be a darling and fetch the wine from the kitchen,”

As I fetched her wine she shouted an afterthought;

“And a clean hand towel from the top drawer.”

I felt a frisson of lust tighten in my groin.

When I came back she had moved through to the lounge and was busy getting comfortable in her recliner armchair.

“Sorry darling, I need you to run upstairs and find my hand mirror, it’s in my bedroom” When I returned she was watching the evening news.

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