B.I.L.F.: A Brother In Law Romance

by Dark Angel

  I uncross my legs and part them slightly, and Lester starts to breath harder, lust taking over him. From the corner of my eyes, I see a hard shape straining against his jeans, his cock stiffening as he slides his hand under my dress. I put one hand on his shoulder, and then lean my head against it; I place my other hand on his chest, gently massaging him.

  “I’ve been dreaming of this for days,” I purr into his ear, and I can feel his whole body relaxing.

  “Then why didn’t you come here before?” he asks dryly, but still keeping his hand on my leg.

  “I was afraid you’d be mad… I was afraid you wouldn’t want me,” I whisper, grabbing his free hand and taking it to my right breast. He lays it there and curls his fingers, squeezing my flesh softly.

  “I want you, you know I do,” he tells me, his words fraught with lustful tension.

  “That’s all I needed to hear,” I smile, my hand still on top of his. I press down, making him squeeze my breast harder. He does it willingly, now breathing so hard that I wouldn’t be surprised if he just came in his jeans. Moving slowly, my movements patient and deliberate, I reach for the straps of my dress on my shoulders and push one down, making it droop over my arm. He reaches for the other strap and pulls it down, the fabric of the dress falling over my chest and revealing the outer edges of my black lace bra. His eyes dart right to it, and he squeezes even harder on my breast.

  “I put this on just for you,” I purr again, and place one hand on his knee. He trembles at my touch, and I look into his eyes, lust and desire flickering there. Finally letting go of my breast, he opens his hand and traces the outer edges of my bra with one fingertip, going down the curve of my right breast and then up the curve of the left one. I reach for the straps of my dress, now hanging limply over my arms, and I push them further down, bunching up the upper part of my dress on my waist and baring my bra to him. His eyes become as wide as plates, and I can see the gears turning inside his head as he imagines all the things he’s going to do to me.

  With a grin, I stand up suddenly and turn to him; bending over, I place both my hands on his chest and push him back against the couch. He goes with a groan, and then I climb on top of him, straddling him. I press my forehead against his, just one inch between our mouths, and then run my tongue over my upper lip. His lips part slightly, anxious to feel mine, and I take a deep breath and kiss him. I do it for just an instant, and then I pull back, still smiling.

  “I want to see your body,” I whisper, my hands slowly moving to the collar of his shirt. I unbutton the first button there, and then my fingers work on the second and the third, baring his chest. I can feel the beating of his heart against my knuckles, and it’s pounding so hard I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a stroke right now.

  “You can see everything you want, babe,” he tells me, and I shudder at the way he says babe. That word on his lips seems as wrong as taking an umbrella out with you on a sunny day. But, then again, everything’s wrong about Lester.

  “I intend to,” I continue, unbuttoning all of his buttons. I then push his shirt down his arms, and he places his hands on my ass, sliding them under my dress and cupping my ass cheeks. His long fingers brush against the small string of fabric tucked between my cheeks, and I feel his hard cock throbbing under his jeans. Looking into his eyes, I start swaying my hips back and forth, pressing my pussy against the hard shape between his thighs. He sighs loudly, and then groans as the rhythm of my hips grows and grows until I’m rocking my body so fiercely that he closes his eyes, surrendering to the way I move. You know, you’d be surprised at how many guys I drove to an orgasm just by grinding against them. Maybe you think it’s an easy thing to do, but I can assure you it’s not. It takes some skill to drive a man to climax just by dancing over his cock. But when I feel his cock throbbing harshly, I ease my pace; I don’t want him to come just yet. Oh, no, I have a lot in store for him.

  “Why’d you stop?” he asks me, disappointment in his voice, as if cumming in his pants was the most natural thing.

  “Because, babe,” I place one hand on his cheek, and then slide it up and tangle my fingers in his hair, “I still want to do a lot more.” I bite down on my lower lip, teasing him and driving him completely mad.

  “I like that… I like that a lot,” he whispers, and then I yank on his hair and force him to throw his head back. Moving fast, I lean into him and press my mouth against his neck, biting at his skin, probably more harshly than I should, but oh well. He groans louder this time, the pressure of his hands on my ass growing.

  “Your cock,” I whisper into his ear, nibbling at his earlobe, “I want it.” I roll to the side, climbing off of him, and then run one hand from his knee up to his crotch. There, I flatten the palm of my hand against his hard shape and press down on it harshly. I can see him gritting his teeth and breathing hard, and I know that he’s at my mercy right now.

  I pull out the top button of his jeans, and then run my finger over the patch of skin just above the fabric. “I have a surprise for you, Lester,” I whisper, looking up at him with a teasing smile. “I’m going to make it up to you… I’m going to fix everything.”

  “I love surprises,” he tells me, having no idea about what I have planned.

  “Then wait here,” I tell him, slowly taking my hands off of his body and going up to my feet. “Can you do that?”

  “Yeah, I can do that,” he responds, but I know that he really won’t be able to sit still for more than a few seconds. But that’s all I need. I wink at him and then, turning on my heels, I walk in a hurried step toward the door of his house. I grab the doorknob and turn it, yanking at the same time.

  Mistress Strokes is already standing outside, in front of the door, huddled under a long jacket. She steps inside the house and, as I leave the door unlocked behind us, she drops the jacket to the floor and looks at me. We nod at each other and then she walks toward the living room, wearing nothing but a thong and a bra.

  “Let’s do this,” she whispers at me, a mischievous flicker in her eyes as she walks past me. As the two of us step inside Lester’s living room, he jumps to his feet and roars.

  “YOU!” he shouts, pointing at Mistress Strokes. His hand is trembling, and he’s smiling as if he has just won the lottery. He walks toward her and, before he can do anything, I step between them.

  “This is the real reason I took so long to come here,” I tell him in a soothing tone. “I was trying to get her to come with me. She told me everything, Lester… She told me about how she rebelled against you, and how she acted out. Your stepdaughter is a stubborn one, I’ll giver her that,” I flash him my best smile and then lead him toward the couch, sitting down with him. Only then do I continue. “But I beat some sense into her head. And she’s here because she wants forgiveness… And she’s willing to do anything to get it. Isn’t that right?” I ask Mistress Strokes, looking over my shoulder toward her. She nods and saunters over to us, mimicking me and sitting by Lester’s side.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy,” she purrs at him, grabbing his hand and placing it right between her thighs. God, I hope that he buys it, I think, knowing that everything hinges on Lester believing us. Because if he doesn’t, we’re fucked.

  Lester looks from Mistress Strokes to me, and I simply smile, mentally calming him down and assuring him that this is all truth. Slowly, his lips curl upward in a devilish grin and he leans back against the couch, placing his free hand right between my thighs. With both his hands on our pussies, he starts to rub, trying to get us wet, but I stop him. I turn to him and run one hand down his chest and straight to his jeans; Strokes does the same and we yank on his jeans at the same time, making all the buttons pop out. We push the jeans down his legs with frantic movements, and then simply let it fall to the floor.

  “Daddy,” she purrs against his ear, sliding her hand up from his knee to his crotch. His cock is straining against his boxers and, the moment her fingers brush over his hard shape, Lester closes his eyes and sighs loudly. “Oh, D
addy, forgive me,” she continues to whisper, and I notice his cock throbbing every time she calls him daddy.

  “Daddy will forgive you…” he tells her, that evil grin on his lips, “if you do what Daddy tells you to.”

  “Anything, Daddy,” she whispers in a thick voice, breathing hard and curling her fingers around his cock. At the same time, I lean into him and start laying soft kisses on his neck, running one hand down his stomach until I meet Strokes’ own hand. I place mine on top of hers, and we squeeze his cock harshly at the same time. We exchange a glance and, moving at the same time, we push his boxers down his legs, making his cock spring free. Pre-cum is glistening on its tip and, judging by the way Lester is breathing, it’s a small miracle that he hasn’t come yet.

  We stand up in front of him at the same time and, moving seductively, we turn into another. She pulls my dress down my legs, and then presses her body against mine. I reach behind her back and undo the clasp of her bra, and she does the same. We push them down at the same time and turn to him so that he can see our tits.

  I’m lying if I’m telling you I’m not turned on.

  Mistress Strokes is beautiful. And while I like the cock - namely Austin’s cock - a part of me is secretly excited feeling her fingers on my skin.

  Almost there, I think as we start swaying our hips seductively. I hook my fingers on my thong and, biting on my lower lip, start pushing them down. Mistress Strokes does the same, and Lester’s eyes widen so much that I half-expect them to roll out of their orbits.

  When we’re both finally naked, our discarded thongs on the floor, we climb back on top of the couch, our hands moving over his torso as we reach for his cock. Then, the moment we curl our fingers around his shaft, I hear a subtle sound coming from the entrance. The door creaks on its hinges as someone pushes it open, but I say nothing; I start stroking him, holding his cock upward as Strokes climbs on top of him. Lester grits his teeth, ready to fuck her, and she starts to ease herself down. That’s when a bright flash of light explodes in the room.

  “Smile, you fucking bastard,” Austin says as he steps into the living room. There are four of his security guys with him, men in dark suits with a hard edge in their eyes. One of them has a camera in his hands, and he starts snapping pictures left and right as me and Strokes keep making the dirtiest faces of pleasure we can think of, pretending we’re having the time of our lives.

  Yep, Mr. Commissioner, you’re fucked now.

  “Girls, you can get away from him now,” Austin tells us with a victorious smile, and Strokes and I get off of the couch as fast as we can. I put my bra and thong on and step inside my dress, then turning to Lester and grinning.

  “How do you like it now? You fucking bastard,” I hiss, and then walk up to him and kick him as hard as I can in the shins. He barely registers it; he simply looks around, his wide eyes now full of terror as his gaze jump from me to Strokes, and then from Strokes to Austin. He has lost, and he knows it.

  After kicking him, I walk straight to Austin and fall into his embrace, closing my eyes as I try to push the memories of Lester’s touch to the back of my mind. The man disgusts me, through and through, and I think I’m going to have to take a very long shower after this. But what matters right now is that we’ve pulled it off. Lester played right into our hands, and now we hold all the cards.

  If he comes after us, we’ll ruin him. About to fuck his stepdaughter and another woman. Audio recordings from my bag of him soliciting me for sex. Yeah, his career is gonna go down the drain, and all of his political clout will serve him for nothing. He will be discarded by the people above him like some filthy rag. And, of course, he would deserve all of that. And worst.

  “We did it,” I whisper at Austin, kissing him on the lips.

  “We did it, babe,” he smiles at me, and then he turns serious, taking one step back. “Now, I’m going to have a fucking conversation with that fucking asshole.”

  Austin

  “Lester boy,” I hiss, standing right in front of him. I tower over him, my shadow over his body, and he starts cowering. “Sit up, you pathetic excuse of a fucking man. I’m not going to beat you.” He relaxes at my words, sitting up straight, but his eyes are still wide with fear.

  “You can’t do this… You can’t--” Before I can continue, I just punch him straight in the face. Fuck, that felt good. “You told me you wouldn’t hit me,” he cries out in pain, both his hands covering his nose. A straight line of blood starts dripping down from his nose and onto his lips.

  “I fucking lied,” I simply shrug, and he turns his eyes up. He’s angry—oh, Lester is a very angry boy right now—but there’s nothing he can do about it. Unless he really wants to kick his ass in such a way that he’ll have to be dragged out of the house in a stretcher. Don’t get me wrong, he deserves all that and so much more, but I’m not a fucking savage. There’s nothing to gain from beating his ass, and my real purpose here is shutting him down for good.

  “What do you want?” he cries out again, wiping his bloody face with the back of his hand. I’m almost tempted to punch him again, but somehow I restrain myself.

  “What I want? See that young lady there?” I point toward Mistress Strokes, and Lester’s eyes go straight to her. He narrows his eyes into slits, and I don’t think I have ever seen someone so filled with hate. Strokes has been ruining his plans for months, and Lester tried like a mad man to put an end to it. He just didn’t count on me backing Strokes.

  “You fucking bi--” he starts, his teeth stained with blood as he curses at his own stepdaughter. I stop him before he can continue and you probably already know how I did it, with a punch to the face, that’s correct. He still hasn’t learned his lesson.

  “Be nice, Lester. There’s more where that came from. Anyway, as I was saying… You’re going to leave her alone for good. You’re going to forget that she even exists. If I ever hear that someone’s looking for her, someone remotely involved with you… I don’t care if it’s just because of a parking fine, Lester. Anyone goes after her, all of this will be leaked before you can jerk yourself off and cum. And from what I’ve heard, you’re pretty fast at that.”

  He now turns his angry eyes toward Destiny, but I don’t even want him looking at her. I raise my fist in the air and that’s enough to grab his attention. He makes himself smaller, protecting his face with his arms, and I just drop my fist. Slowly he’s starting to get it.

  “I’m not done, Lester, so pay attention. I don’t like repeating myself,” I fold my arms over my chest, confident that he won’t act out anymore, and then continue. “The moment Strokes, Destiny, and I leave this place, you’re going to make a few phone calls. You’re going to grab your cell phone, put it up to your ear, and you’re going to call whoever you need to so that Destiny’s club can reopen. I want it to happen so that there are no more suspicions around her or her club.”

  “That’s not that easy --”

  “Shut the fuck up, Lester. I don’t wanna hear it,” I spit at him. “You’ll think of something. You shut down her club, now you’re going to fix that. No excuses. And I’m far from being done.”

  “Jesus,” he breathes out, sinking in his seat. He’s slowly starting to realize that we have him by the balls, and that there’s nothing he can do about it. He lost.

  “I want you to get Python a license to operate in Manhattan as well. I’ve been trying to get one for months, and I know you’ve pulled some strings to block it. Now, I’m going to give a timeline; you have one month to get Destiny’s club reopened and Python’s licenses. Not a second more.”

  “Fuck,” he hisses, still seething. “Fine, I’ll do that. I’ll get it done,” he finally submits, but I’m far from being done. If he thinks that all we want is for him to leave both our clubs alone, he’s very mistaken.

  “And after that month is up… You’re going to leave New York City. For good.”

  “Leave? I can’t leave, I’m the fucking Police Com--” This time I don’t punch him. I just
slap him with the back of my hand as if he’s just a misbehaving schoolboy. This coward doesn’t even deserve my fists.

  “You’re leaving,” I stress the ‘leaving’ part, making it clear that this is not up to discussion. Okay, to be honest, nothing of what I’m telling him is up for discussion. Not a word. “I don’t care where you go. Just make it someplace far away. I’d suggest Siberia. Seems like a fitting place for a piece of shit like you.”

  The look on his face tells me that if he could he’d just murder me in cold blood right now. That’s when I realize that his threatening look isn’t just a look; he jumps off of the couch in an instant and, before any of my security guys can do a thing, he pushes me back. He reaches for something under his coffee table, and I see the cold metal of a police revolver shining in his hands. He takes his finger to the trigger, blood dripping out of his mouth as he snarls, and time stops; I see him squeezing the trigger in slow motion and I can almost imagine the bullet leaving its chamber and making its deadly way toward me.

  “YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” I hear Strokes yell and, still seeing everything unfold in slow-mo, I watch as she runs toward him and kicks him straight in the balls with her heels. He drops the gun just before the trigger reaches its limit, and then he falls to the floor like a crumpled piece of paper. He has gone pale, and the only color in his face is the bright red still dripping out of his nose.

  “Fuck, that was close,” I breathe out, taking a moment to steady myself. Mistress Strokes is now holding Destiny, stopping her from flat out murdering Lester with her bare hands. There’s no doubt in my mind that she could really do it if she wanted to. Destiny’s pretty scary when someone fucks with her man or with her child, and I’m just starting to realize that.

  Smiling at Lester, I pick his gun up from the floor and then walk toward him. I caress the cold metal under my fingertips, taking my time to feel around his gun, and then I push the muzzle against his forehead. “You had your chance and you blew it. Time to say your prayers.”