Long Distance Cheating with Her Brother-in-Law

Naomi was twenty-two and already lying to herself before the wheels left the ground. She had dressed for Barrett—soft cotton dress, clean panties, the kind of pretty a long-distance boyfriend was supposed to unwrap after months of phone screens—but the man in the middle seat was not Barrett. Tobias was twenty-eight, her sister Paulina’s husband, thick through the chest and thicker through the hands, and he had come along because the rental and the unfamiliar city made Paulina nervous about Naomi traveling alone. That was the official story. Naomi had agreed too fast.

The cabin lights dimmed. The blanket was airline thin and already warm where his thigh pressed hers. Her phone lit with Barrett’s name, twenty-four and earnest on the other coast, sending hearts and a countdown to the curb. She watched the bubbles and did not open them. Tobias’s fingers found the hem of her dress under the blanket, slow, sure, the pads of them dragging heat up the inside of her thigh. She did not move his hand. She set the phone face-down and let the engines cover the small sound she made when he reached bare skin.

“Paulina thinks I’m being helpful,” he said near her ear, voice low enough that the stranger in the aisle seat kept his headphones on. “You know what I’m being.”

“Married,” she whispered. It came out like a tease, not a stop.

“And hard.” His fingers climbed another inch. “You’ve been wet since security. I could smell it when you leaned over the bin.”

Her face burned. Barrett texted again. She felt the buzz against her hip and ignored it the way she ignored the wedding band when Tobias’s knuckles brushed the edge of her panties. The chemistry was stupid and immediate, the kind that made her cunt clench around nothing while a decent man waited at an airport with flowers she had asked for. She wanted the bull beside her more than she wanted to be good. That wanting sat in her stomach like a secret meal.

Tobias stroked once, a thick finger tracing the damp seam through cotton, and Naomi’s knees parted under the blanket as if her body had already chosen. The plane leveled. Her phone kept lighting. She did not look.

“Keep ignoring him,” Tobias murmured. “Every time you do, I’m going to put another finger on you.”

She nodded, small and filthy, and stared at the seat-back screen while her brother-in-law petted her like she already belonged to him.

By the time the drink cart passed, the pretense was gone. Tobias’s mouth stayed at her ear and the words got uglier, precise, the kind of promises a married man should not make to his wife’s little sister and made anyway because she was breathing them in.

“When that light goes off I’m taking you in the lav,” he said. “I’m going to kiss you until you forget his name, then I’m going to make you feel how thick I am through my pants so you understand what you’re about to cheat with. Later I’m going to fuck you until Barrett’s little boyfriend cock is a joke you can’t even get wet for. You want that. Say it.”

“I want that,” Naomi breathed. Her pussy throbbed in time with the sentence, a heavy pulse that soaked the cotton and made her shift on the seat. She pictured Barrett’s face on her lock screen and felt mean and hot and terribly alive. “Ruin me for him. I don’t care.”

“You will care,” Tobias said. “You’ll care when you hear yourself taking it. My cock’s too thick for a quiet girl. Everybody near a thin wall is going to know your pussy is being stretched.”

She whimpered. The seat-belt sign chimed off. Naomi did not wait for courage. She stood, dress sticking to the backs of her thighs, and looked at him like a woman issuing an invitation she could still pretend was an accident. Tobias rose, broad and unhurried, and followed her down the dim aisle past sleeping passengers and a flight attendant counting pretzels. The lavatory door shut. The lock slid. The tiny room smelled like soap and her arousal.

He kissed her the second the bolt caught, not a polite kiss, a full open-mouthed claim, tongue deep, one hand in her hair and the other already under her dress again. Naomi kissed back like she had been starving on video calls. Her palms found his belt, then the outrageous bulge beneath it, and she stroked him through the fabric with both hands because one was not enough to map the girth. He was heavy, hot, ridiculously wide. Her fingers didn’t meet around him even over the pants.

“Jesus,” she said against his mouth. “Tobias.”

“That’s what you’re flying toward,” he growled, grinding into her grip. “Not him. Me. Feel it. That’s what’s going to open you.”

She stroked harder, shameless, kissing him until her lips stung, mutual hunger turning the little room into a furnace. Her phone buzzed in the pocket of her dress. Barrett. She let it buzz and kept her hands on her brother-in-law’s cock, learning the shape she was about to cheat with in every room they could lock.

The lavatory was too small for patience and neither of them had any left. Tobias spun her, bent her over the sink, and dragged her panties to her knees. In the mirror her face was flushed, twenty-two and wrecked already, mouth open. He freed himself and the sight made her cunt flutter: thick beyond reason, a heavy shaft with a blunt head that looked like it would have to fight for every inch. He notched it at her entrance and pushed.

The stretch was obscene and audible. A wet, thick squelch filled the plastic room as her walls were forced apart, the sound of a tight pussy yielding to a cock too wide for grace. Naomi slapped a hand over her mouth and still moaned. He sank deeper, another slick, sucking noise, her body gripping and losing, gripping and losing.

“Hear that?” he rasped, hips rolling. “That’s me ruining the fit. That’s your cunt learning a new size.”

“Yes—God—yes, I want it, I want you—” She pushed back, consensual and greedy, meeting every thrust. The sink rattled. Each stroke made that same filthy sound, wet walls stretched and slapped, loud enough that she knew the galley might catch it if the engines dipped. She didn’t stop. She watched herself in the mirror getting fucked by Paulina’s husband and came with a choked cry, pussy milking that impossible thickness while he grunted and kept driving, not finished, just marking the first room.

They straightened their clothes with shaking hands and returned to their seats like criminals. Barrett had sent four texts. Naomi turned the phone over and left them unread, thighs slick, panties ruined in her bag.

The airport was bright and ordinary and they did not stay ordinary. Tobias steered her past baggage claim toward the family restroom with a locked door and a wide bench, and she went because her body was already begging for the next stretch. Inside, he sat and pulled her into his lap facing him, dress up, nothing between them. She sank onto his cock and the sound was worse in the tiled quiet—a deep, juicy squelch as her pussy was forced wide around him, audible with every inch she took.

“Oh fuck, Tobias, I can hear it,” she gasped, arms around his neck. “You’re so thick—listen—”

He thrust up and the noise repeated, wet and obscene, her walls struggling and clinging. She rode him there, kissing him between moans, romantic and filthy at once, foreheads touching while he cuckolded the man waiting outside arrivals. Her phone rang. Barrett’s name. She let it ring against the tile and bounced harder, the thick cock chorusing under her.

“Answer him,” Tobias dared, voice rough with want.

“No.” She laughed, breathless, in love with the refusal. “I’m busy falling for the wrong man.”

“Say it again.”

“I’m falling for you.” The words startled her with how true they felt, even here, even with his wedding band against her waist. “I don’t want his flowers. I want this cock. I want you.”

He growled and stood with her still speared, fucking her against the door until she came again, the stretch-sounds sloppy and relentless, then pulled out and finished across her lower belly in hot stripes she wiped with paper towels, shaking, smiling, already needing more.

The rental car was worse because it was almost private. Tobias drove them away from the terminal while Barrett called twice from the curb. Naomi watched the screen, thumb hovering, and declined both. She climbed into the back seat at a red light outside the lot and Tobias followed when he found a dark row at the edge of the garage. She got on her hands and knees on the leather. He mounted her from behind, one hand on her hip, and pushed in with a sound so wet and thick it seemed to fill the car—her pussy stretching audibly around him, a rhythmic squelch-squelch every time he bottomed out.

“Ignore him,” he ordered, fucking her deep. “Text him you’re delayed. Tell him nothing true.”

She did it one-handed, moaning through the message, ass up, taking the bull who had flown across the country beside her. The car rocked. Her walls made that helpless noise with every thrust, forced apart, flooded, owned. Tobias leaned over her spine and kissed her shoulder like a lover, not a mistake.

“You’re mine on this trip,” he said. “Say it while I stretch you.”

“I’m yours,” Naomi sobbed, coming so hard her vision sparked. “I’m yours, Tobias, not his—God, I can hear you opening me—”

They finished tangled and laughing, breathless, her dress a wreck, his cock still gleaming when he tucked it away. She did not call Barrett back.

The house Paulina had booked was a bright rental with too many rooms and a master bed Naomi was not supposed to touch. They touched all of it. The entryway first, her back to the door, one leg hooked high while Tobias fucked up into her and the foyer echoed with the wet clap of a pussy being stretched past polite. Then the couch, her in his lap again, reverse this time so he could watch her stomach and murmur that he could see how full she was. She rode him until the cushions were damp, phone on the coffee table lighting with Barrett’s worry, and she never once reached for it. She turned her head and kissed Tobias like a woman choosing a life, slow between the frantic thrusts, hands in his hair.

“I didn’t know it could feel like this,” she whispered. “Not just the cock. You.”

“I know.” He held her jaw, still moving, romantic even while he cuckolded her boyfriend in every room. “I’ve wanted you since you turned old enough to look at me like that and mean it. This trip, you’re not visiting him. You’re with me.”

“Yes.”

They took the kitchen counter, her panties finally abandoned on the floor, his extremely thick cock driving so deep the squelching turned constant, a lewd soundtrack of her walls being forced apart. Naomi moaned his name and Paulina’s absence and Barrett’s irrelevance until she was hoarse. Tobias came inside her there, a hot claim she accepted with a shudder and a kiss that lasted longer than the orgasm.

The guest bathroom was last and loudest. Mirror, bright bulbs, her palms on the glass. He took her from behind and made her watch. Every thrust sang—wet, thick, unmistakable—the sound of a tight young pussy stretched wide around a married bull’s cock. Naomi’s mouth fell open. She could see the strain in her own face and the awe.

“Listen to it,” she begged. “Listen to you stretching me. I love it. I love you—fuck—I love how you ruin me for him.”

“You’re mine now,” Tobias growled against her neck, hips snapping, the audible stretch never stopping. “His texts don’t get you. This does. This sound. This cock. Say you’re falling.”

“I’m falling for you,” she cried, and came with the mirror fogging, pussy gushing around the impossible girth, the squelch turning sloppy and proud. He didn’t let up. He fucked her through it, possessive and deep, until she was shaking and still pushing back for more, their connection filthy and strangely tender in the eyes and nowhere else that mattered. Barrett called again from the living room phone she had left behind. Neither of them moved to answer.

Hours later the master bed was a wreck of sheets and the smell of sex, and Naomi was still not done being bad. She lay on her stomach with Tobias heavy over her back, his thick cock buried to the root, slow now but still forcing those wet, stretching sounds out of her with every grind. Her phone was in her hand. She typed with her cheek in the pillow while he fucked her: Have to handle something. Won’t see you tonight. She sent it to Barrett and dropped the phone off the mattress without reading whatever loving thing he sent back.

“Extend the stay,” Tobias said, voice wrecked, hips rolling so her pussy squelched around him again, loud in the quiet house. “Sneak out with me every day. Let him wait in lobbies while I keep opening you up.”

“Yes,” she gasped, smiling into the pillow, already planning the lies. “All week. Any room. I want to hear it every time.”

He thrust harder, possessive, the thick shaft making her walls sing that obscene stretch, and Naomi moaned like a woman who had chosen her bull and meant to keep choosing him.

“Good girl,” he growled, fucking the excuse deeper. “Text him tomorrow too. Tell him you’re busy getting your little cheating cunt stuffed full of brother-in-law cock until it squelches.”