Seduced by My Brother-in-Law: 24 Hours of Pure Filthy Cheating Pleasure – Part 5

Read previous part: Seduced by My Brother-in-Law: Secret Quickies While My Husband and Sister Were Home - Part 4

Irica’s heart was racing as she waved goodbye from the doorstep. Tuesday evening had brought the news she both dreaded and craved more than anything: Tom had been called away for an overnight work trip in Birmingham - client dinner and early morning meetings. Almost at the same time, Jasmine announced she was staying with her old university friend in Clapham for the night - “girl time and wine, I need it after all this renovation stress.”
By 7:30pm the house was completely empty except for Irica and Patric.
The moment the front door clicked shut for the final time, the air in the Islington terraced house changed. It felt thicker. Hotter. Dangerous.
Patric turned slowly, his tall, muscular frame filling the hallway. His eyes were dark with pure lust as he looked at her. “Finally. No more sneaking around. Tonight and all day tomorrow… this entire house is our fuck den. I’m going to ruin you, Irica.”
She barely had time to breathe before he was on her.
He pushed her back against the wall, kissing her like a starving man. His big hands roamed everywhere - squeezing her heavy breasts through her top, sliding down to grip her arse hard, pulling her against the thick bulge already straining in his jeans. Irica moaned into his mouth, grinding herself against him shamelessly. Two days of risky quickies and creampies had left her constantly wet and aching. Now there were no limits.
“Bedroom,” she gasped.
“No,” he growled. “Right here. First.”
He spun her around, yanked her leggings and soaked thong down to her ankles in one rough motion, and kicked her legs apart. Irica braced her hands on the wall as Patric freed his thick, rock-hard cock. He rubbed the fat head along her dripping slit once, then slammed into her in a single powerful thrust.
“Fuuuuck!” Irica cried out loudly. No need to be quiet anymore.
Patric groaned in pleasure as her tight married pussy swallowed every inch. He didn’t ease in gently. He fucked her hard and deep from the start - long, punishing strokes that made her full breasts bounce and her round arse ripple with every impact. The sound of skin slapping skin echoed through the quiet house.
“You feel so much better than Jasmine,” he grunted, one hand fisting her dark hair. “Tighter. Wetter. Greedier. This cheating cunt was made for me.”
Irica came within minutes, her legs shaking as her pussy clenched and pulsed around his thrusting cock. Patric didn’t stop. He fucked her through the orgasm, then pulled out, spun her around, and dropped to his knees. He buried his face between her thighs, licking and sucking her sensitive clit like a man possessed while two thick fingers pumped in and out of her.
She came again on his tongue, flooding his mouth.
Only then did he carry her upstairs to the guest room - the same bed where they had first crossed the line. But this time there was no rush. They had hours.
Patric laid her on her back and climbed between her spread legs. He entered her slowly this time, savouring every inch. They fucked face to face, deep and intimate, kissing constantly. His heavy balls slapped against her arse as he ground into her. Irica wrapped her legs around his waist, heels digging into his back, pulling him deeper.
“Cum inside me again,” she whispered desperately. “Fill your sister-in-law’s pussy.”
Patric buried himself to the hilt and unloaded with a deep groan, pumping thick ropes of hot cum deep into her. They stayed connected, kissing softly as his cock twitched inside her.
That was only the beginning.
They barely slept. Around 2 a.m. Irica woke him with her mouth. She sucked him slowly under the covers, savouring the taste of their combined juices on his thick shaft. When he was rock hard again she climbed on top and rode him reverse cowgirl, giving him a perfect view of his cock disappearing into her creamy pussy and her arse bouncing.
At 4 a.m. they fucked again in missionary, slower this time, whispering filthy truths to each other.
“I think about you when Tom fucks me,” Irica confessed breathlessly.
“I jerk off thinking about breeding you behind Jasmine’s back,” Patric admitted, thrusting deeper.
They came together, wrapped tightly in each other’s arms.
Morning light filtered through the curtains. Irica woke to the feeling of Patric’s tongue lazily licking her swollen, cum-filled pussy. She moaned and spread her legs wider, letting him clean her up before she returned the favour. She took him deep into her throat, gagging and drooling until he pulled her up and fucked her mouth gently, holding her head.
They finally made it downstairs for “breakfast” at 10 a.m. Naked.
Irica tried to make coffee but Patric bent her over the kitchen island instead. He fucked her hard from behind while the coffee machine gurgled. Her breasts pressed against the cold marble as he railed her, one hand choking her lightly from behind. She squirted for the first time in her life - a sudden, shocking gush down her thighs and onto the kitchen floor as she screamed in pleasure.
“Fuck, that’s so hot,” Patric groaned. He pulled out and dropped down, licking up her squirt before sliding back inside her and filling her with another load.
After a quick shower that turned into another long, steamy fuck - Patric pressing her against the tiles and taking her from behind while soapy water ran over their bodies - they moved to the master bedroom. Irica’s and Tom’s marital bed.
The symbolism made it even dirtier.
Patric found her hidden drawer - the one with the vibrator and lube she rarely used with Tom. His eyes lit up.
He spent the entire afternoon worshipping her body. He ate her pussy for nearly forty minutes straight, making her cum repeatedly until she was a shaking, dripping mess. Then he introduced the toy - pressing the vibrator against her clit while he fucked her slowly. Irica came so hard she saw stars.
Then came the anal.
“I’ve never let Tom do it,” she whispered, nervous but incredibly turned on.
“Good,” Patric said, kissing her neck. “This arse is going to be mine first.”
He took his time. Lots of lube. Gentle fingers first, then more. When he finally pushed his thick cock into her tightest hole, Irica cried out in a mix of pain and overwhelming pleasure. He went slow, rubbing her clit the whole time, until she was pushing back against him, begging for more.
Soon he was fucking her arse properly - deep, steady strokes while she rubbed her own clit. The feeling was intense, forbidden, and addictive. When Patric finally came deep in her arse, Irica had the most powerful orgasm of the day, squirting again all over the sheets of the bed she shared with her husband.
They collapsed, sweaty and exhausted, but the hunger never faded.
In the late afternoon they moved downstairs. Patric set his phone up on a tripod in the living room. “Just for us,” he promised. “Something to remember this by.”
He filmed her riding him on the sofa. Filmed her on her knees sucking his cock like an eager slut. Filmed himself fucking her in doggy style on the living room rug, slapping her arse red while she moaned his name loud enough for the neighbours to potentially hear.
Between rounds they talked - really talked.
Lying naked on the floor, his cum leaking from both her pussy and arse, Irica traced the muscles on his chest.
“I feel so alive with you,” she admitted quietly. “Tom is safe… but you make me feel wanted. Desired. Filthy in the best way.”
Patric pulled her closer. “This stopped being just sex days ago. I think about you constantly. The risk, the sneaking, the way you look at me when your sister and husband are right there… it’s addictive.”
They fucked again after that conversation - slower, more emotional, but no less intense. Missionary on the living room floor, eyes locked, foreheads pressed together as he filled her one final time before evening.
By 9pm they were both wrecked. Irica’s body was covered in marks - hickeys on her breasts, handprints on her arse, her pussy and arse sore and thoroughly used. She had lost count of how many times she had cum. Patric had emptied himself into her at least eight times throughout the day and night.
They ordered takeaway, ate it naked on the sofa, and then went for one more slow, lazy fuck in the guest room before falling asleep in each other’s arms.
Irica lay there in the dark, listening to Patric’s breathing, feeling his cum slowly leaking out of her onto the sheets. The guilt was still there, but it was drowned out by something far stronger - pure, overwhelming lust and a terrifying realisation.
She didn’t want this to end when they left.
As she drifted off, sore, satisfied, and sticky with her brother-in-law’s seed, Irica knew the real challenge would begin when Tom and Jasmine returned tomorrow.
Because now she wasn’t just cheating.
She was falling.