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Overnight at My Sister-in-law's

The key was where his sister-in-law said it would be: on the bottom rail of the fence directly across the patio from the front door. He found it quickly with the flashlight app on his phone and let himself in.

A light was on over the kitchen table. A bottle of Japanese whiskey and a short tumbler stood in the pool of light with a note. "Make yourself at home. I have a doctor's appointment early in the morning."

He sat down, poured himself a couple of fingers of whiskey, and sighed. It had been a long day of meetings, then a delayed flight. It was close to midnight by the time he got in. Luckily, he could sleep in before starting a round of meetings again the next day in San Francisco.

But it was nice to be here for the night instead of a sterile corporate hotel. Tamara kept a cozy cottage on the side of Bernal Hill. The downtown skyline and the lights on the Bay Bridge sparkled in the distance.

He sipped and sighed. He opened his laptop and then closed it. There was nothing that couldn't wait until tomorrow. He took another sip of whiskey and felt the muscles in his back relax. He rolled his head to loosen his neck and shoulders. Tamara's place was an eclectic hodgepodge of San Francisco aesthetics, modern photography on the walls, a mixture of Mission and Craftsman furniture, clean lines but not sterile, made casual by bits and pieces of ethnic art picked up on her travels around the world.

It was perhaps a bit over calculated in its casualness, he thought, or maybe just truly authentic. With Tamara it was sometimes hard to tell. Was she ironic or sincere? Or both at the same time? It was easy to see why people found her hard to read. She presented an openness and maintained a distance that could be interpreted in many ways.

Her family thought she was a lesbian, and she had lots of girlfriends. He and Megyn had been to many of her parties here. But it was never clear if one of them was a lover, and Tamara never declared herself. She let people guess. She never had a boyfriend either, at least that they knew, although there were many that would have tried, he was sure.

And now she was going to have a child. She had told the family over the holidays, when it was, in fact, too obvious to ignore. She was happily on her way to being a single mom, she declared, after carefully researching a sperm donor, who would remain anonymous. And that was that.

He was taking another sip of whiskey when he heard a rustling coming from her bedroom, and then shuffling feet, and the skitter of claws on the wood parquet floor. Negrita was first to appear, eagerly nuzzling his outstretched hand. Tamara was close behind.

"Hello," she said, wiping sleep from her eyes. "How was your flight?"

"Too long, and mostly on the ground," he said. "How are you?"

"Good, good," she replied. "Aside from occasional nausea and insane cravings for ice cream and pickles."

She bent over to open the freezer and he admired her from behind as her nightie rose up over her ass. She looked just like her twin sister from every angle, except she was pregnant. And her rounded belly and breasts were clearly getting bigger, casting her body in a very different light.

"What are you looking at?" she said as she turned around with pint of ice cream in her hand.

"My wife's nice ass," he said. "But the rest of the package has changed."

"Yeah," she laughed ruefully. "No shit. Getting knocked up will do that to you. Maybe she was right."

Megyn had decided not to have kids when she was in college — had her tubes clamped shut with titanium. It was the only sane environmental choice, she said. Plus, she didn't think she could be a good mom, on her high-powered academic career path, although she adored other people's kids, and was great with them.

He loved her for all of that. And it had sure made for a lot of great, worry-free sex over many years. But still, he wondered, especially now, watching Tamara stretch to get a bowl down from the shelf, her belly peeking out from the opening in the front of her nightie.

She dug a spoon out of a drawer and sat down next to him in the dining nook. She put a hand on her belly and winced. "Ohh!"

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing. Just kicking. He gets active around midnight, wakes me up, for a little ice cream. Do you want to feel?"

She let the front of her nightie fall open. He leaned over and touched the side of her taught, smooth skin.

"Wow!" he exclaimed, as he felt a sharp thump, and then another, as if a drummer were playing the inside of a drum.

"That feels good," she said, as he moved her hand over her belly waiting for another kick.

"Can I listen?" he asked.

"Sure," she said. "Ask him whether he wants ice cream or pickles tonight."

He got down on one knee in front of her and put his ear to just to the side of her belly button, which was sticking out now, unlike his wife's, he realized. He heard a whooshing and a gurgling and a bubbling and then faintly underneath the noise, the shooosh, shoosh... shoosh, shoosh of the doubled heartbeats of the baby and Tamara. At the same time, the sweet, musky smell of her nearby sex caught him by surprise and made him feel dizzy. He put both hands on either side of her belly to steady himself and looked up at her. "It's beautiful," he said. "When do we get to meet the father?"

She gave him that look she always gave everyone in the family whenever they asked a question like that. It shut them down quickly, but in a gentle way.

"Ugh," is all she said.

"I'm a mess."

She pointed to the wet stains on her nightie, just over her nipples, which he could see were hard.

"I've lost control of my body."

She put her hand under the nightie and wiped at her left nipple, and then licked her fingers. "But it doesn't taste bad, if I do say so myself."

"Want a taste?" she asked.

"Sure," he replied shyly.

He thought she would offer her hand to him. But instead she leaned forward and opened her nightie and offered him her right breast. Small white beads of mother's milk circled the nipple, which was harder and bigger than his wife's had ever been, even when she was fully aroused. It stood out against a darker areola, too. The whole breast was swollen, bigger than could be held completely in one hand, like he could hold his wife's, but still, and maybe even more, perfectly shaped as a result.

He tentatively licked at the milk. "Yum," he said. "You're right. Tastes like warm ice cream."

She kept her breast to his lips and leaned a little closer, pushing it against his lips. "Ummm," she sighed, as he took another flickering lick, and then, without thinking brought her whole nipple into his mouth, and sucked. He felt a small spurt of mother's milk in his mouth. It was sweet, dense, indeed, like warm ice cream. He ran his tongue around her nipple and she moaned again and pulled his head closer.

"Tamara," he said.

"Shhhh," she said, as she put a finger on his lips.

Then she took his right hand from her side and guided it down the tight smooth dome of her belly and under the elastic band of her panties.

"Please, it's been too long," she sighed.

He felt her slick, wet labia immediately. They were swollen, too, protruding from the silky hair of her mound. It felt nothing like his wife's tight, clean shaven cunt.

He swooned and nearly fell over, but kept a hold of her breast, giving a little tug on her nipple, as his fingers slid easily between her lips, and he felt her clitoris harden instantly. He slipped a finger into her hole. It was looser, more inviting than his wife's, but still held his finger firmly as Tamara tightened the walls of her vagina and groaned.

"Not so fast," she said.

"Let me see what you've got."

She reached down to find his cock, which was achingly straining his tight black jeans. She ran her fingers down the length of it and lingered along the ridge at the tip.

"Stand up," she said.

She unbuckled his belt, lowered the zipper, and reached in to pull out his erection. She ran both hands down the length of his cock, then leaned forward and licked a shiny drop of precum off the tip.

"Not bad, either," she said, as she smiled up at him. "It seems my sister has got good taste when it comes to men."

He felt dizzy again. Where was he? It looked like his wife sucking in his cock as she took its swollen head into her mouth and moaned around it, "Mmmmm."

But he was standing in his sister-in-law's kitchen with his cock in her mouth. And her belly was big and round and her breasts hung over and touched her belly as she leaned in and took more of him into her mouth and gently fondled his balls. He felt himself quickly getting harder, stiffer, the head of his cock bigger. With one finger she rubbed the soft spot behind his tightened testicles and he thought he was going to blow his load right then. He thought he should warn her. But she squeezed his balls tightly, and let his cock slide out of her mouth.

"Sit down," she said, as she raised her hands up under his t-shirt and pushed him down on to the kitchen chair with his pants around his ankles.

She stepped over his legs, and pulled his hips farther toward her and the edge of the chair. She moved her panties, which had a big wet spot, to the side. He could clearly see her shiny pussylips now dangling from her pubic hair. She put one hand on his chest to steady herself, grabbed his cock with the other, and lowered herself until her slippery pussy rubbed against the head of his cock. She stayed there for a long moment, toying with his cock, rubbing it back and forth across her pussy, pushing her clitoris against the tip of his cock. Her pubic hair rubbed his cock in a way he never felt with his wife and he felt like he might come any moment from the excitement. Her round belly was in his face, and as he caressed it, she threw her head back and moaned loudly, and then suddenly lowered herself all the way on to his erection.

"Oh, my god," she sighed, leaning into him, her belly pressing hard against his. "It's too big," she said, though it wasn't. His wife often said the same thing. And it was tight. But not with Tamara. It went in easily. There was no moment of wondering if it would fit. It fit nicely, even more so as she rose up and down on him slowly. She was really wet, but firm, and he could feel her tighten the walls of her vagina to grip his cock as she quickened her pace.

He fondled her breasts, which bobbed in front of him in a way that his wife's never had. Her wet nipples were slippery under his fingers. He wanted to take them into his mouth but he couldn't quite reach them with her belly between them. So he squeezed her nipples and she yelped with surprise and then covered his hands to keep them there.

"Don't stop," she said.

She held his left hand on her right breast and he rubbed her nipple between his thumb and finger. Then she pushed his right hand down her belly and between her legs.

He felt her hard clitoris immediately and rubbed his thumb gently across it as she rode him. She moaned and sank down on his cock and pressed her clitoris against his thumb hard. She rubbed back and forth across it, while squeezing his cock tightly deep in her pussy. He felt confused again. There was so much familiar about this, and so much that was different. He felt the difference as an intense excitement that ran through him straight into his cock buried in his sister-in-law's cunt. She felt it, too, and moaned loudly as she held on to his shoulders and thrashed back and forth on his lap, and then came suddenly, almost violently, keening rhythmically. Banging into his pelvis, she took him over the edge too, and he exploded inside of her, one, two, then three times, like nothing he'd ever felt before. He slumped in the chair as she fell on to his chest.

A long, long moment passed as they stayed like this.

"Don," she said.

"Shhhhh," he said, as he rubbed her head, which felt just like his wife's.

Tamara murmured. "That feels good." She liked it, too.

Eventually, she stood up and took him by the hand. The ice cream was melted. She left it at the table. She turned off the kitchen light as she led him to her bedroom.

"Spoon me," was all she said as she got into bed. He climbed in behind her and nuzzled her back. In this position, she fit against him just like Megyn. But his arms stretched round her belly as he held her close, and they fell asleep.

He woke from a dream before dawn with a morning boner pressed between her ass cheeks. For a long moment, long enough to be truly unnerving, he was sure he was in his own bed, at home with his wife. But the light was slightly different, and then he felt her belly again, and he remembered.

He didn't know what to do, so he stayed like that, with his arms around her. Then she began pushing gently back against his cock and sighed. He felt her hand reach down between her legs and push the tip of his cock more firmly to her opening. She pushed back and he entered her. She stayed still. And they stayed in this position for a long time, sighing, as his cock twitched, and she gently squeezed it in her cunt. He caressed her big belly and breasts. She moved a little back and forth, pressing back against him, and then she came with a whimper, and the whole feeling, of her belly, her breasts, the way she came against him, overwhelmed him, and he gently succumbed, too, in a way he'd never experienced before.

He held her for a long time with his cock still insider her. Soon she had fallen back asleep, breathing in a soft slow rhythm.

The next thing he knew he was waking up in a sunny daze with light pouring through the sheer curtains. He had no doubt about where he was anymore. But she was gone.

He got up and stumbled into the kitchen. The whiskey bottle was gone. In its place was a bag of coffee, a filter, and a cup, and a new note.

"Good morning," it said. "I'm off to see my OB/GYN. And I know you need to get home early this evening. Sorry we won't get to spend time more together today. Come back again soon to visit me and your daughter. XXOO...."

Next to the note was a black and white sonogram of their baby curled up in the rounded shell of her belly.

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