Muramu wangu / Sister-in-law

I knew at 19 muramu wangu was now too old to climb on my lap. My wife's little sister, taking in my masculine scent, subtly, sexily arousing herself having learned exactly which of her certain little movements would make my cock rock hard under her bottom, both of us aware of her breasts mounding from her chest, her nipples plainly visible, how they tingled and ached to be touched....it was all I could do sometimes to not just take my sister in law right then.

Our game was, she would sit on my lap, her legs over mine and I would open and close my knees with her rhythm. My arms around her waist, my hands clasped in front of her, her hands on mine, she seemed to delight in my looking over her shoulder, her full breasts and nipples so sexily pushing out from her chest.

I still remember the first time when she started the game. She was wearing a flannel nightgown, and I noticed how beautiful she was in the winter evening light. She liked it when I noticed and commented on her eyes, she suddenly focused on her legs dangling from mine. She wanted a comment on her figure and I smiled and told her she was lovely, how she was my girl, and she laughed... her breasts jostling and swaying so seductively, her nipples hardening and pressing so sexily through the soft material of her flannel nightie. I couldn't take my eyes from her breasts, the thin feather-soft flowered fabric touching her like that, the shape of her breasts. My desire to touch and feel them exceeded my will.....

With each movement, her feminine rounds fluidly defined the cottony soft nightie, and in my lap despite myself, my cock responded to her relentless little rocking motions and her so warm and naked underneath. I breathed in her distinct smell, my muramu, my dangerous taboo, her sparkling flirtatious eyes. I suppose I did know, I could tell, she was seducing Daddy as she liked to call me, and I suppose I was playing my own little game if even just on myself....

As I opened and closed my legs as had been our little evening ritual, her tender thighs spread with mine, little butterfly wings we would say her nightgown riding higher and higher on her smooth legs, I remember becoming acutely aware of the sweet musky scent of her sex. I remember, how she would snuggle against me, turn up and kiss my cheeks, her lips warm and wet and her kisses progressively longer and fuller each time. How she let go of my hands and rested hers on her upper thighs, her eyes closed her mouth open her breathing slowing our legs opening and closing with her motions. Pulling and pushing, her breasts jostling, my cock getting harder and harder watching them, wanting them in my hands, in my mouth. How her fingers began involuntarily inching the material of her gown up her legs exposing more and more of her tender inner thighs as if she wanted to reach and touch herself in front of me, for me. As if she wanted to show herself to her bamkuru bae, become more than brother and sister in law and, prolonging her little agony, savoring her little game, pulling me further and further over that deliciously intoxicating edge.

One evening I saw our reflection on the TV screen in front of my chair. Seeing our reflection was like watching an arousing film witnessing what I was physically experiencing while I did it, looking up between her legs, dangling over my thighs, opening and closing. Soon after, I looked forward to the game too, very, very much. So much, I began anticipating her coming home from work each evening, her bathing, changing into her nightie, and her climbing into my lap to watch T.V with me. Her taking my hands in hers, holding them on her lower belly, her settling in. Her lovely breasts pushed together between her arms, her nipples hard and pushing out, her flannel nightie pulling up higher and higher revealing her smooth glowing legs.

Sometimes she would hold my hands very tightly, her nightie bunched up as high as her hips. Her panties unselfconsciously visible, her breathing slow and heavy her legs rhythmically opening and closing at her will, our game, now so purposeful, a secret, something we knew we did in private, just me and my wife's sister.

I would subtly offer resistance as she squeezed her thighs back together, which she seemed to like. Her breathing would quicken, sometimes a little moan, her bottom tightening and lifting as she squeezed. She would sometimes breathe out loudly, or in tiny gushes, or let out soft little mewling sounds opening and closing our legs, biting her lower lip as she worked her legs and hips to squeeze my legs back together, the very effort sending little humming vibrations straight between her legs deep into her groin, her belly. Her sweet musky arousal filled the air around us as she lay back against me, melting into my lap her head moving side-to-side, safe and warm, the T.V. fading away. I watched, mesmerized, my breathing beside hers, my looking down over her shoulder at her breasts, the way they mounded, pushed up, jostled ever so slightly her figure so clearly defined under her thin, soft flannel gown, my cock already hard and pulsing under her. I know I should have stopped her, stopped myself. At first I figured what harm could come of it, what harm could come from a babamukuru and his muramu, his lovely in-law playing such an innocent loving game.

Then there was the one evening when she climbed into my lap, upset and almost in tears. I asked what was wrong, and she pleaded, "Bamkuru bae my breasts hurt, bamkuru kani, they ache Daddy, please..." her body hot, "in pain" her pleading, "arikurwadza shuwa make the ache go away," tensing and fidgeting unable to get comfortable.

At first reluctant, her sister upstairs, thinking what would her sister have done, I reached up her and lovingly, delicately, traced little feathery lines with my fingers up toward her swollen hot breasts, her taut aching nipples, my words a whispering lullaby of, it's okay mainini, let me help, let bamkuru make you feel better...

She calmed almost immediately relaxing into my chest. Her light breaths turned to ahhhhs and then cooing, her hips moving involuntarily, pressing down, her bottom rotating and pushing into my lap. Before I knew what was happening I realized I was trying to make her feel more than better, more than trying to make her breasts stop hurting. Increasingly I was kneading her aching swollen breasts, massaging her breasts through her soft flannel nightie. Pulling gently on her hard nipples to relieve the ache, her tears stopped and she began breathing out in a murmuring soft hum, "Mmmm, that feels so good, don't stop, don't stop...feels so good," her breasts so firm and ripe and swelling hot in her bamkuru's hands.

I'm not sure I could have stopped. Her breasts looked so exquisite through the flannel material of the gown, the way they felt and looked, full and flesh-hot through her nightie. I was transfixed, aroused, doing what I'd been thinking for weeks. I kneaded, cupped, and squeezed her lovely breasts, squeezing them out toward her nipples so incredibly erotic through the flannel gown. I wanted to suck her nipples into my mouth, suck on them through her nightgown, and whispered, "Let me make them feel better, baby."

She pressed her head back into the nape of my neck, cheek to hot cheek, our warm breaths mingling together over her lovely full breasts so swollen in my hands, rolling her nipples through the flannel gown, practically hissing, "yesss baby, let me make them feel better, baby," my touches and pulls eliciting a response from a lover, her bottom pressing harder, rotating, lifting and pressing against my straining hard cock under her. Her soft little voice, "Bamkuru touch me," sinking her weight into her own sister's husband letting me have her, giving herself to my hands, my touches

"That's my good girl," I whispered against her face, "let Daddy make you feel good, baby," watching her hips roll and push, her mound so rounded under her nightie, her thighs under her nightie spread out over my lap. The more we moved together, the more we sank back into the chair until she was laying on top of me, my throbbing hard cock touching up toward my belly under her. Images of my touching her pussy flashed through my mind, she was rocking her pelvis, her smooth rounded mound wet. Each rock of her hips pressed the length of her warm damp slit to wrap around the length and girth of my aching hard erection. Her sister's husband's dick pulsing under her ass the length of my cock fitting up into the groove of her quivering hot little pussy separated only by her flannel gown. Her pressing out with her legs against mine, like butterfly wings opening and closing us both slipping down in my big chair letting more, and more of my cock fill the length of her now soaking wet slit.

The natural effort of her hot little pussy to trap my length in her lips, press up inside her, pushing her flannel gown inside her, damp warm, her breathing turning to gasps...

Ohhh, ohhh god, ohhh Daddy, nnnnn," she gushed rolling her hips, undulating, rocking, her back arching, her arms open, her hands out to either side gripping the chair, grinding her ass against my lap. I couldn't stop myself even if l wanted to, my breathing heavy and hot over her shoulder, my arms squeezing against her rib cage pulling her tightly against me, my hands knowing exactly how to make my mainini feel good.

Her ass rubbing my raging cock dripping with pre-cum, my balls hot and tight, her hot pussy rubbing trying to fit me further and further along her damp wet slit, backward and forward, she rubbed her hot pussy on my cock. We could feel each other's heat through our pajamas, wet and friction heated. I reached down and took her by her tender hips, held on to her as she rubbed forward and back, guiding her as l met her rhythm, "Mmmmm, mainini...oohhh baby, yessss."

I couldn't stand it any longer and pulled her back against my chest, reached around her my arms locking over hers and took her breasts into my hands, again squeezing and pinching and pulling her full swollen breasts, kissing her hot wet cheeks, grinding on me. Our breathing hard, moaning, our breaths hot wet whispers, I did the unthinkable. My hands dragging over her writhing belly, her cheek turning to mine, her breath hot on my neck, over her hips, over her upper thighs, her open mouth gaping at my throat I began inching her gown up, pulling the thin material up her legs, over her thighs, up to her hips. The damp heat was palpable between us. I reached between her spread legs, her smooth thighs, and touched my sister-in-law bare pussy, so slippery, so hot, so wet!

Her hips lurched upward, into my fingers, her pelvis pressed into my hand as she gushed out, her pelvis rocking and bucking into the heal of my palm so warm and pressing into her mound. I held her on my lap, rubbed her clit, pressed into the insides of her thighs, spread her legs open, gushing out an exhilarated groan realizing I was touching her freshly shaven smooth mound.

In a frenzy of heat, she raised and I reached under her and freed my raging hard cock from the slit of my pajama bottoms. Pulled it out from under her grinding little bottom, pulled myself out in front of her hot pussy, pressed my length against her and cupped my hand over the head of my erection pulling myself into her yummy wet slippery hot sex. I groaned, she groaned, my cock sliding hot and unfathomably rigid, aching throbbing hard pulsing hot against her hot slippery creamy wet pussy. We both erupted into the heat and wetness of her folds slicking on my cock, wrapping around sister's husband!

Not saying a word her hips lifted, and I pressed my cock against her steaming cunt, slid up and down hot and hard and slippery against her swollen slippery wet sex, and then it happened. We found her. My cock, slipped inside her....ohhh fucckkkkk🤭🥹😋

At first just the head of my pounding, aching hard cock. When she whispered, "more, just a little more, want to feel you...in me please bamkuru" both of us shiny wet with pre-cum, her creamy satiny juices, we both fell silent as I slid deeper and deeper inside her hot, so, so soft, both of us gushing out heated breaths, moans, settled into each other, sinking me deeper and deeper with each push inside her.

I reached up and took her breasts back into my hands as she lifted and pressed and gyrated and wriggled her pussy on my throbbing hard cock. Taking a little more, and a little more of my dick inside her she moaned. Her body melted into mine as I kissed her neck, her cheeks, reached down and wrapped her hips, her upper thighs in my hands, pressing her down, pushing my dick inside. Rocking her pelvis, fucking her sister's husband even when I stopped, I whispered, "Yes baby, fuck me baby, that's my good girl," the sensations of warmth and wetness and softness, our heat, indescribable.

Fucking my dick into her, my hot sexy sister-in-law, I slid one hand up to her lips, and she sucked my finger into her hot wet mouth, sucking my finger, her juices, her sprawled over my lap. I pressed my other hand between her spread legs, cupped her hot cunt, my fingers against her slick pussy. I spread my fingers on either side of my cock sliding inside muramu wangu, as she sucked my cock into her hot wet pussy, as she sucked my fingers bucking her hips as I fucked her, my lovely sister-in-law right there in my chair, as she fucked me no longer just pretending.....

#theend

#B😘🔞