Bitch of a Sister-in-Law

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*Author’s note: This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached, as long as no charge is made for it and it isn’t changed in any way. If it is archived, it is done so on the basis that the author will have unrestricted access to the archive.

This story is a work of fiction. None of the characters or events herein is based on real people, either living or dead. It was produced for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or reading sex stories upsets you, do not read any further. By reading further you certify that you have accessed/requested access to this material willfully, and that you are an adult 21 years of age or older. You also certify that you are NOT a city, county, state, or federal law enforcement officer, official of the United States Postal Service, acting in the capacity of a representative of a telecommunications firm, and that this material does not offend the standards in your area, nor is it in violation of any of local, state, or federal law.


As red-haired, 5’8″, 140lb, CORINNE PRATT lay on her back, with warm, white, plentiful cum dripping, steadily, and thickly out of her gaped, swollen pussy, and pooling beneath her well-rounded asscheeks, she began to smile like only a recently well fucked woman could do. She ran her hands along her pear-shaped 37C’s that were tipped with thick, damn near quarter-inch bright pink nipples and along her flat, trembling stomach, feeling the sensual post-ache of being repeatedly pounded by a big, long, thick Black dick into the mattress, and sighed. Her throat was sore, lips swollen, mouth held the aftertaste of musky cum, cervix had been firmly and forcefully tested, and thighs were STILL twitching. Each time she tried to move her legs, her pussy would start trembling and clenching, still experiencing mini-orgasms. Her ass and lower back were wetly stuck to the sheets, as she recalled squirting for the first time in her life with him. Her hair was a hot mess as was her make-up. Her eyes stared at the twirling ceiling fan, wondering how in the hell she could she explain this to the rational side of her brain. How could she have allowed the black man she claimed she was disgusted by and had planned to ruin, fuck her into a literal stupor, and leave her craving for more?

CHAPTER ONE (The Accident)

The Pratt family had received the call in the dead of a winter night, informing them that their youngest daughter and sister, CAMILLE, had been taken to Boston Memorial after returning from a ski trip with friends and got involved in a very serious four-car crash on the snow and ice-covered Interstate 93. She had been placed in a medically induced coma to slow the swelling of her brain. Her prognosis had been listed as critical. One of the passengers had died, and the other two were in critical condition. The news, as expected, had come as a shock to the family. There were two sisters in the family, CORINNE and CAMILLE. Corinne was the older and more domineering of the two. Camille had been the shy one growing up in Durham, North Carolina, with their parents who still lived in North Carolina, in the four bedroom home they had raised their children in.

Corinne and Camille had not been on speaking terms since Camille had announced her engagement a year previous to a Black man she had been dating for a year and a half. Corinne had been furious over the news when she first heard about it from her mother. She wasn’t into that Social Justice Warrior crap when it came to her family. Her first thoughts had been that her attractive and talented redheaded sister was throwing her life away for a cheap, ghetto thrill. She assumed that her sister, having recently finished her surgical residency at a top East Coast medical facility would meet and eventually marry an equally successful white, Indian, or an Asian man and start a family. It was unimaginable to her that her young, bright sister was going to throw her life away for a NIGGER. An educated, accomplished man from what she’d been told, but still a NIGGER! Their mother had tried to broker a peace agreement between the two of them but Corinne had ‘gone off the reservation’ with her behavior towards the idea, so it had been shelved for another time. Now, it looked like she was never going to get the chance to set things right with her younger sister, and that pained her terribly.

The entire family took the flight to Boston and Corinne cried the entire flight thinking of the opportunities she had let slip by without relenting in her fury over her sister’s decision to marry a black man. No one, except Corinne, had questioned Camille’s decision, which made the situation all the more senseless. Their parents, while initially taken aback, trusted that their daughter was making the right decision for herself and tried unsuccessfully to get Corinne to see that. No one could console her throughout the trip.

Chapter Two (Brian meets Corinne for the 1st time)

Six months ago…

Camille’s parents had met BRIAN TIMMONS at the beginning suadiye escort of the summer when the two of them had taken time off from their studies to visit her family. Her parents had immediately taken a liking to him as he seemed to dote on Camille the way a man in love does. Corinne had conveniently made note of the fact that he was slightly shorter than her sisters’ 5’8″, 135lb, 36D-24-37 frame.

“How did my sister end up picking a black Bilbo Baggins as a fucking fiancée’? She thought, sarcastically.

Corinne had decided to dislike him on sight and had planned to show it, overtly. She proudly thought of herself as the one white girl who had NEVER been intrigued by black men or the mythical big, black dick. Rich white cock was the only thing that made her juices flow. Nothing made her more orgasmic than the thought of financial security, and in her experience, Black men could not and would not provide that.

She thought Black men and their tales of poverty and misfortune lame and tiring. She was a proud Irish-American and if it took her last breath on Earth, she was going to send this ‘shine’ a message about trying to marry up into her exclusively all-white family. Barack Obama may have been the first darky to walk into the White House, but this coon wasn’t going to walk his short, black ass into her family! Her plan was to make this a vacation his black ass would not soon forget!

If her colleagues at the downtown law firm where she worked as an executive secretary ever found out that she had a black man in her immediate family, she feared she would be treated as a virtual pariah. In her convoluted and shallow opinion, every hire of a Black at the firm was a result of affirmative action in one way or the other, which inherently made them less qualified. Why did Blacks deserve jobs? What did they do to deserve set asides that whites hadn’t? She understood that as a white woman, American society treated her better than a Black ever would, but hey that’s the way it was. If asked, she would have responded that she was not racist, but rationale and reasonable, in her views of Blacks.

Once, years ago in high school, a close friend of hers had divulged to her that she had been truly well fucked by a big dick from one of the school’s star black football players. Corrine, ever the true friend, had went and promptly told every one of their shared friends about the girls’ exploits on social media and they never called or spoke to that girl again, making her an outcast amongst her own friends at school.

Another time, she had acted like a jackass at an upscale restaurant towards their table’s server, who was a young black woman. She had talked to the struggling mother of two like she needed a helmet and a mouthpiece just to function! After taking as much as one person could possibly take, the young woman had snapped, and shoved the assholish redhead, and lost her job that night. Of course the only thing Corinne demanded of the owner was that he promised stop hiring ghetto black girls to work in his establishment and comp their meal. She had added, loudly, that everyone knew the only thing black women were good for was getting pregnant and being violent.

Corinne took every opportunity during Camille and Brian’s seven-day stay to fuck with and belittle him on the sly and directly. She just didn’t give a fuck as she thought her sister’s marriage was more about her public image than her sister’s happiness. Every time she passed him in her parents’ home or when she entered a room he was in, she would sigh dramatically and roll her eyes as if the hardest fucking thing in the world was sharing space with a nigger.

Once as the family took him on a tour of the city in her father’s Cadillac Escalade, and she and he sat in the back seats, she pointed towards the blighted urban landscape on the outskirts and said, “And over there is where the drug dealers, criminals, rapists, baby momma’s and losers live. Look familiar Brian?” she said to him in a condescending, shitty manner.

Later that evening as Brian, Camille, and their mother sat in the living room, Corinne walked in and sat down at the far end of the couch as the local news program came on. As the news program started, they reported on yet another black on black shooting, which caused Corinne to sternly stare at Brian. As the second news story started, with yet another shooting in a black neighborhood, Corinne said, “Hell, they might as well call it the urban line up instead of the evening news”, rather rudely.

When the third story started about a group of black teens terrorizing a local mall, Corinne exhaled audibly and disgustedly, and got up and left the room in a huff, while mumbling about blacks, gorillas, and hood behavior.

Brian, for his part, took her fucked up behavior in stride. Camille had informed him of her sister’s resistance to their relationship early on and told him about her verbally abusive ways towards Blacks and other minorities when they had grown up together. He had told her that dealing with her sister was the least of his concerns, as he wasn’t seeking her approval of their relationship. If she couldn’t at yakacık escort least be civil, that said more about her than him. For some weird reason, her sister was acting like he was fucking her instead of her little sister.

He acknowledged that other races could view Blacks in general as negative and criminally inclined since that’s all that seemed to be reported about them was that they were robbing, stealing, and killing each other like they were getting paid to do it. But, he had never lived that life nor had he ever been interested in the whole, ‘self-destruction movement’ that seemed to be sweeping through the majority of Black communities, nationally,

His fiancés sister was starting to get on his nerves with the drama and the innuendos. He’d thought that after her comments in the Escalade, she’d gotten the chance to get her views off of her chest and would give it a rest. He, of course, had been wrong…dead wrong. By the time he and Camille had changed and showered, he was pissed and horny. Camille had made him promise numerous times before they got on the plane that he wouldn’t ‘bore her out’, as she called the fucking he usually gave her. Before they made the trip she had made a point in telling him that her sister’s room was right next to hers and she didn’t want to give her another reason to dislike their approaching union. What Camille didn’t know was that Brian had decided to bring a noise canceling ball gag for her, just in case he wanted to fuck the shit out of her…and he was glad he had brought it. Her sister be damned, he was dipping his wick in her sweet peach, tonight.

In addition, what Camille’s older sister didn’t know about her younger sister was that she was a complete and total submissive freak who loved serving dominant men. Upon meeting her, that would be the last thought one would have of her. He had turned her sister into one of his all time favorite submissive sluts. She did anything he wanted, when he wanted, and enjoyed every gottdamn minute of it. She loved being told what to do in the bedroom and he loved giving her things to do. She loved the nasty things he did with her and how it made her feel. He had brought out his own private whore who loved her role.

He remembered the first time they had gotten together, three years ago…

Chapter Three (The First Time with Camille)

CAMILLE PRATT was one of the smartest people in their postgraduate class, male or female, black, white or other. He initially had not been interested in her because she seemed totally into the resident/intern program and they had not had a chance to talk, other than to greet each other. He hadn’t been looking for a girlfriend or a fuck buddy, as he remembered it. They sort of fell into similar study groups and shared similar interests and humor. Before long, they were meeting with a group of classmates at Starbuck’s and studying together in the medical library. They were two of the smartest people in the program and studying together seemed to benefit the entire group. He found her attractive enough, and she found him good looking but not movie star handsome. He was quiet, studious, and respectable. Beyond their studies, neither he nor she showed much attraction to one another. None. Then, one day, this day…it had happened.

Long before she had disrobed before him, he had an idea of what he wanted to do with and to her. Though she was an assertive, outspoken medical school student, he sensed something behind the ‘social justice warrior/girl power’ energy she exuded. He intuited that she liked to be dominated, sexually. It wasn’t anything she did, or something she said…it was in her eyes and in some of her behaviors. It was in her demeanor when she sometimes made a point in a rather pointed way and looked around for someone to challenge her. He had desired to set her straight on a few occasions but he wasn’t that familiar with her. Why make a scene?

On this particular night, their group had met at the library during the beginnings of a snowstorm. By the time they had finished their studying, the storm had brewed into a blizzard. Three of their group was determined to get to a late night eatery. Brian and Camille thought they were demented. He lived off campus and would have had to catch the train, soon, if he wanted to get home at all. Her apartment was closer, and her roommate had gone home for the weekend because of a family wedding.

Brian didn’t really want to be that Black guy walking in Boston at night, in a snowstorm with a book bag (or a reason to stop you and fuck with you). She felt absolutely no threat from him as he had never come across as a closet creep or anything to her. She pleasantly offered him the couch till morning and he thanked her and accepted, as he really didn’t want to trudge home in this unpredictable weather.

By the time they had reached her place, they were both covered in snow and wet. She offered to dry his clothes and he readily agreed. At the time, he was not remotely thinking that he was going to get a chance to fuck her, he was sincerely cold and his clothing was uncomfortably wet. He had been up since 6am and was tired. She let him wipe şerifali escort himself off before announcing that she was going to shower and after she was done, if he wanted, and he should before he caught cold, she would leave a wash cloth and a towel in the bathroom for him to wash.

As she showered a few minutes later, Camille thought about a black man being in her living room, as she stood naked in the shower. She had worked her doubts out over her offer as they walked towards her apartment. Brian was a nice man, a gentleman actually. It had been she who had initiated conversation with him when they had first met. He, to her knowledge, didn’t have much interest beyond being in the same program and study sessions. He had never made a pass at her or anything close to it. She found that fact bothered her a little, but since he hadn’t, it wasn’t an issue. She told herself that she preferred taller men, anyway, though Brian was built like a Sherman tank. She preferred to keep it platonic with him, as she had never dated a black man. Thinking on it, she had never considered what she would do if a black man tried to talk to her and come onto her.

As she exited the shower and started to dry off, she wondered what she would do if Brian suddenly walked in on her. Would she scream rape or scream something else? She shook her head, as if clearing it of such thoughts and finished drying off and applying lotion. She tied up her hair in a bun, put her thick, white hotel robe on and left the bathroom. She walked the short distance to the hallway and peeked around the corner.

Brian was sitting on the long sectional sofa with the remote in his hands, eating potato chips and watching ESPN. She smiled to herself thinking that he was behaving like the typical guy.

“Brian, I’m done with the bathroom. Get your wet ass up and off my couch. You can use my roommate’s room to change out of those clothes. Put them outside the bathroom door and I’ll collect them and take them down the hall to the laundry room and dry them for you”.

“Awww thanks Camille! That’s really nice of you. You don’t have to do that. It’s cool enough that you’re letting me crash on your couch for the night”, Brian said genuinely.

“Brian, we walked through the same storm and I was soaked when I took my clothes off. I can’t, in good conscience, go to bed knowing that you’re out here cold and clammy. It’s not a big deal, honest. Please let me do this for you, so I can go to bed with a clear mind,” she said.

He finally agreed and thanked her several times. Damn, she was way cooler than he thought. He quickly got up and followed her back around the corner from whence she had come. As he entered the hallway and gazed at the back of Camille, the light from the window created a silhouette of her form through the white robe. He could see fabulous curves on her hips as she opened her bedroom door and entered. He thought that it must have been a trick with the light coming in the window at a weird angle. There was no way she was shaped like that… he would have noticed before now.

He went into her roommates’ room and changed out of his clothes. He opened the door and quickly stepped naked across the hall to the bathroom. He entered the bathroom and quickly shut the door thinking he heard the door close behind him, but it didn’t close all the way as he pulled back the shower curtain and began running the water.

A few seconds later, Camille had exited her room and seeing Brian’s pile of wet clothes on the floor, started down the hall to retrieve his clothes. As Brian was bending over to test the water before pulling the lever to start the shower, she had bent over to begin grabbing his clothes. She noticed the crack in the door, and her eyes immediately went to the large vertical mirror that hung on the wall outside of the shower.

As Brian bent himself up and began pulling back the shower curtain, his dick literally swung into view in the mirror. Camille gasped to herself, as she could not grasp what her eyes were viewing. His dick stood like a thick, black tree trunk between his legs with the head being as wide and large as to instantly engender fear in any woman. He wasn’t remotely hard and it hung heavily, slapping each thigh as he moved, easily six thick inches soft. Several large, thick veins ran along its length. His balls were large as X-large eggs and hairless. The sight of that big dick on a man that stood only 5’7″ was amazing to her!

She quickly scooped up the pile of clothes and made her way to exit the apartment and head to the community washer/dryer area that was located at the end of the hall. As the door closed behind her, she found that she was slightly out of breath and becoming moist. There were six apartments on her floor and she doubted if anyone was using the laundry room this late at night. She quickly made her way down the hall and upon entering, found no one there, as she had thought. She made her way over to a dryer, opened it, and began depositing Brian’s wet clothing into the bin. When she held the final item of his clothing, his boxers, she looked at them briefly before bringing them to her nose and inhaling deeply. She liked the musky scent of his garment, knowing they had kept his big, thick dick captive. She placed them in the bin and closed the door and started the timer. She guessed that it would probably take approximately 30-40 minutes because of his jeans being so wet.

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