Seduced by My Brother-in-Law: Creampie Sex While My Husband Slept Upstairs – Part 6

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

Irica stood at the living room window on Wednesday evening, watching Tom’s car pull up with Jasmine inside. Her body was still sore in the most delicious ways. Every step reminded her of the last twenty-four hours - the countless times Patric had stretched her pussy, claimed her arse, and filled her with load after load of his thick cum. She could still taste him on her tongue. Feel him leaking out of her.
The front door opened. Normal family voices filled the house again. Jasmine looked relaxed after her night away. Tom was tired but happy to be home. Patric came down the stairs looking perfectly calm, but when his eyes met Irica’s, the heat between them was almost visible.
The next two days became the most dangerous game yet.
They had tasted total freedom. Now they had to pretend nothing had happened while stealing every possible moment under the noses of their spouses.
Thursday morning was pure torture. Tom worked from the dining table again. Jasmine was unpacking and catching up on emails in the guest room. Irica was in the kitchen loading the dishwasher when Patric walked in. Without a word he stepped behind her, pressed his hardening cock against her arse, and slipped one hand down the front of her loose lounge shorts.
“Patric… they’re right there,” she whispered desperately, even as her legs parted for him.
“I know,” he breathed against her neck, sliding two thick fingers into her still-swollen, creamy pussy. “That’s what makes it so fucking hot.”
He fingered her quickly and expertly, thumb rubbing her clit, until she came standing up - biting her lip hard and gripping the counter as her knees buckled. He pulled his fingers out, licked them clean right there in the kitchen, then casually walked out as if nothing happened.
Later that afternoon, while Tom was on a long call upstairs and Jasmine went for a run, they risked the garden shed. Patric bent Irica over the old workbench, pulled her jeans down just enough, and fucked her hard and fast from behind. His hand covered her mouth as he slammed into her, the shed creaking dangerously with every thrust.
“Quiet, you cheating little slut,” he growled. “Don’t want your husband hearing me wreck his wife’s pussy.”
She came twice before he emptied himself deep inside her again. They barely made it back inside and cleaned up before Jasmine returned, flushed from her run.
By Friday - the last full day - the emotional weight was crushing Irica. Every secret touch, every hidden creampie, every whispered “I can’t stop thinking about you” was pulling her deeper. This wasn’t just sex anymore. She was falling for her sister’s husband, and the knowledge terrified her as much as it thrilled her.
That final night, the tension reached breaking point.
They had all shared a big farewell dinner with plenty of wine. Laughter, stories, and toasts to family. Irica sat there smiling, playing the perfect wife and sister, while Patric’s cum from their quick bathroom fuck earlier slowly leaked into her panties. She could feel it every time she shifted - warm, sticky proof of her betrayal.
Around midnight, everyone went to bed. Tom fell asleep quickly, as usual. Jasmine had taken a sleeping tablet because of an early flight. The house grew silent except for the faint sound of London rain against the windows.
At 1:17 a.m., Irica’s phone lit up with a text from Patric:
“Come to me. I need you one last time.”
She lay there for five long minutes, heart hammering, staring at her sleeping husband. Guilt tore at her. Love for Tom was still there, but it felt pale and distant compared to the fire Patric had lit inside her.
She slipped out of bed anyway.
Wearing only a thin silk nightdress with nothing underneath, she crept down the hallway to the guest room. Patric was waiting, door slightly ajar. The moment she stepped inside he closed it quietly and pulled her into his arms.
Their kiss was desperate, emotional, hungry. Tongues tangled deeply as hands roamed. He lifted her nightdress and cupped her bare arse, squeezing hard.
“I’m going to miss this body so fucking much,” he whispered against her lips.
They moved to the bed. This time it wasn’t just raw lust - it was slow, intense, passionate. Patric laid her on her back and worshipped her body with his mouth. He kissed every inch of her - neck, breasts, stomach, inner thighs - before burying his face between her legs. He ate her pussy with slow, loving strokes of his tongue, savouring her taste like it was the last time.
Irica came softly, thighs trembling around his head, fingers tangled in his hair.
Then she returned the favour. She took his thick cock into her mouth, sucking him with deep affection, looking up into his eyes the entire time. She wanted him to remember her like this - on her knees, worshipping her brother-in-law’s cock while her husband slept down the hall.
When neither of them could wait any longer, Patric climbed on top of her. He pushed inside her slowly, inch by inch, until he was buried to the hilt. They made love like real lovers - deep, grinding strokes, eyes locked, foreheads pressed together.
“I think I’m falling for you,” Irica whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek as pleasure built inside her.
“Fuck… me too,” Patric groaned, thrusting deeper. “I don’t know how I’m going to go back to normal after this.”
He fucked her steadily, passionately, hitting every perfect spot. The bed creaked softly. Their breathing mingled. Irica wrapped her legs around him, pulling him as deep as possible.
“Cum inside me,” she begged quietly. “One last time. Fill me before you go.”
Patric’s pace quickened. He hooked her legs higher and drove into her with powerful strokes. The wet sounds of her soaked pussy filled the guest room. Irica came hard, biting his shoulder to stay silent as her walls clenched and pulsed around him.
Patric followed right after. With a deep, guttural groan he buried himself completely and exploded. Thick, hot jets of cum flooded her married pussy, pulse after pulse, filling her until it was leaking out around his cock.
They stayed joined for a long time, kissing softly, whispering things they shouldn’t say.
Eventually, reality returned. Irica slipped back to her own bed just before 3 a.m., Patric’s fresh load still deep inside her. She lay beside Tom, feeling the warm cum slowly leaking out, and cried silent tears of guilt, pleasure, and confusion.
Saturday morning arrived too quickly.
The goodbye at the door was agony wrapped in politeness. Jasmine hugged Irica tightly, thanking her for everything. Tom shook Patric’s hand and clapped him on the back. Irica and Patric shared one last, careful hug. But as they embraced, his hand squeezed her arse possessively for a split second and his lips brushed her ear.
“I’ll text you,” he whispered. “We’re not done.”
The car pulled away. Irica stood on the doorstep waving, smiling for Tom’s sake, while her heart ached and her pussy still throbbed with the memory of last night’s creampie.
The house felt empty without them.
That evening, after Tom had gone to bed early, Irica’s phone buzzed. A message from Patric:
“Already missing that tight pussy. Next week I’ve got a job in central London. Fancy meeting me in a hotel? Just us. No sneaking. I want you for a whole night.”
Irica stared at the screen for a long time, thumbs hovering.
She knew she should delete it. She should block him. She should focus on her marriage.
Instead, she typed back with trembling fingers:
“Yes. Tell me when and where. I need you again.”
She put the phone down, slipped her hand into her panties, and slowly rubbed her sore, cum-stained pussy while thinking about her brother-in-law. About the risks. About how addicted she had become.
Irica, the faithful wife of just one week ago, was gone.
In her place was a cheating woman who had tasted forbidden fruit… and wanted more.