The House Of Robles Ch. 04

"Oh, baby." Her illicit victim groaned, his body tensing and trembling from the erotic pleasure.

He was about to cum, Carmela realized, and much, much sooner than she'd expected. Sliding the wet tool from her mouth, she started stroking it up and down, keeping it erect and exposing Junior's balls. She leaned forward, teasing at the large sack with her tongue, vacuuming one of his testicles into her mouth. Expertly, Carmela rolled the scrotum around and softly probed at it with her tongue. She increased the tempo of her strokes, hearing Junior's voice rising and feeling his grip start to yank painfully at her hair. Without warning, the cock began shaking and spurting love juice all over the place. It draped hot jizz on her face and shoulders. Carmela's stroking hand kept him going, until Junior was groaning and quivering so much that he ended up pulling his spent member away on his own.

"Oh, damn." He said, his voice still shaky. "I don't know why you just did that, but..."

"Shut up already!" Carmela ordered him, once again drawing nearer to his cock. She took him in her mouth, gently rolling his flaccid length around with her tongue, and licking away at the sweet and sticky semen that still clung to his member.

Junior could only gape down at her, until her explicit caresses brought about more moans from his mouth. "Oh, fuck yeah."

Carmela's hands reached upwards, her fingers playing across his sculpted stomach muscles and rubbing against his taut chest. Her mouth kept massaging his limp cock, as if trying to will the beast back to life.

They both heard the sound of the toilet flushing downstairs.

"Damn it!" Carmela snapped, pushing Junior away before hurrying over to the vanity mirror. "He'll be up here any second!"

She gazed briefly at her unkempt reflection, then grabbed the edge of her bathrobe and began earnestly wiping away cum from her face and neck. "It's all over my hair, you asshole!"

Frantically, Carmela tried to yank the robe higher. Seeing no other alternative, she finally untied it and pulled the entire thing off. After balling up one end, the always-hurried woman rubbed at her hair vigorously to clean up the sticky mess.

"Hey, honey?" Frankie clearly shouted from downstairs. "Did you find the sneakers? And where's the remote control? Have you seen it?"

"Be right there." Carmela replied loudly and casually, tossing the sticky robe towards a far corner of the room.

Clad only in her bra and underwear now, she brazenly doubled over to snatch up the pair of shoes. Carelessly, she stepped past Junior and strode down the short hall leading to the overlook.

"Now, what did you say?" Carmela glanced over the ledge.

"I said, where is the remote?" Frankie repeated, tossing aside a couple of couch pillows. Finally, he got down on his stomach to look underneath the couch. "I see it. You must have set it on the carpet next to the couch and kicked it underneath again. How many times have I told you, when you finish watching TV put the damn thing on the coffee table? Is that such a complicated thing to do?"

"What do you need it for, anyway?" Carmela replied impatiently, struggling to keep the rising irritation out of her voice. A second later, the pair of shoes left her grip and landed with a loud splat on the ceramic tile far below. "There go your fucking shoes!"

Ignoring the inflammatory action, Frankie retrieved the control. Absently, he clicked on the television and began cycling through the channels.

With her husband's attention focused on the TV, Carmela stole a quick glance behind her. She was shocked to see Junior standing just outside her bedroom, still fully naked and sporting a wide and mischievous smirk on his face. Carmela waved furiously, hoping Junior would get the hint and make himself scarce until Frankie left.

"Get back in there!" She whispered harshly.

"Damn it!" Frankie cursed, forcing Carmela's attention back to the living room.

"Frankie, what are you doing?" Carmela asked in a falsely sweet voice. "Aren't you supposed to be heading off to work right now? Like you do every other time you come in here and grab your lunch?"

"I'm trying to find out what time the Jacksonville game starts." Frankie replied, totally absorbed in the numbers on the screen. "I've got fifty bucks riding on that one." He looked up at her for a second, doing a double take when he noticed her robe was gone. "You know, you shouldn't be walking around the house like that. What if somebody sees you through a window or something?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, all the curtains are already closed." Carmela rolled her eyes. "I could walk around naked all day, and nobody around here will notice. Nobody will even care!"

Suspecting that the comment was somehow directed at him, Frankie again shot a quick glance at his wife. A second later, he wordlessly turned back towards the TV.

By this time, Carmela was getting a tad bit impatient. It was bad enough that Frankie refused to give her any attention, when just a few feet behind her stood somebody who undoubtedly would. If only she could get her husband to leave the apartment! "Won't you be late for your second job?"

With visible irritation, Frankie looked up. "I've got five full minutes before I have to get on the road. Are you trying to get rid of me or what?"

"No, of course not!" Carmela protested, a little too loudly. "I just don't want you to get into any trouble. You know how your boss is."

"My boss is an asshole deluxe." Frankie raised the volume on the sports news. He was watching some of the previous day's sports highlights. "Did I tell you that Hairy Jerry was going to kick his ass the other day?"

Carmela was about to answer, when she felt a pair of hands gently caress her ass. She glanced back, surprised to find Junior crouched behind her. He was still sporting that same shit-eating grin on his face.

"Get the fuck out of here!" She whispered angrily.

"What was that?" Frankie asked from below.

"Oh, I just asked what happened?" Carmela asked, kicking back sharply with her heel, and hearing a grunt as she struck some unseen part of Junior's anatomy. "You're talking about that old man with the heavy beard?"

"Yeah, that's Hairy Jerry all right." Frankie nodded, still staring at the TV, where a truck commercial had just come on. "Crusty old Miguel told Jerry not to take any shop towels home. Of course, Jerry denied he'd ever taken anything..."

Carmela forced Junior's inquiring hands away from her butt, half pinching at them with her nails and hoping he would again get the message and retreat. A brief look behind her revealed that her brother-in-law had simply dropped down onto his knees. Like a little bastard, Junior was crouching right next to her legs and waiting patiently for the opportune moment to strike again.

"--could see the towels laying right there on the back seat of Hairy Jerry's station-wagon. So Miguel--"

Junior's hands reached up her lean thighs, pausing and investigating their insides, then again worked themselves up to her tight butt. Brazenly, he began kneading and groping her ass cheeks. In spite of the situation, and perhaps because Carmela knew her that her simple husband was oblivious to what was happening to her, she felt herself getting turned on.

"--and Hairy Jerry said he'd been set up, that somebody else had placed the towels inside his car without him even knowing. Can you believe that shit--"

One daring hand reached in between her legs, rubbing and circling as it went. With a long and sensual sigh, Carmela quietly spread her legs and leaned forward on the ledge of the stucco-covered balcony. The hand found her sweet spot immediately, cupping her excited mound and making her fear she'd soon start to cum into her bright red panties. The fingers continued their exploration, drawing forward over her pussy, then back around her ass.

"--Jerry said, 'Put your dukes up!' and Miguel, well, he didn't know what to do, so he--"

Junior's hand quietly crept under the elastic of her panties. In expectation, in ecstasy, Carmela closed her eyes.

"Are you even listening to me?" Frankie looked up at her briefly. "You're not even looking at me. It's like you're somewhere else!"

Carmela's mouth was hanging open. Quickly, she tried to remember what her husband was saying. "Of course I am! I'm listening!"

"Why do I even bother talking to you? You never listen to me!"

"I said I was listening." Carmela repeated, feeling a series of quick tugs pull at her sides. With each tug, her panties slipped down a few more inches. "You said they got into a fight over some stupid shop towels, right?"

"No, no, no." Frankie was clearly irritated, just as the sports show started up again. "I said they almost got into a fight. We broke it up before it got serious. Still, those guys are barely talking to each other, ever since then."

Carmela's underwear was by now down to her ankles. It felt so good to have the air swirling around her bare ass, and to have Junior teasing her like that. All while her dumb husband stood just a few yards below and was totally unaware, as was always the case, of what was really going on with his wife.

Her brother-in-law's hands returned to the exploration of her legs, enticingly sliding up and down their length. Fingers found their way onto the graceful contours of her butt, tracing the soft curves of her skin and bringing both soft shudders and goose pimples to it. The fingers worked their way towards her moist middle, where they grazed past and tickled at the trimmed hairs that outlined her private entrance. One brazen finger crept in, swirling around her love hole like a tiny boat caught in a whirlpool. It started plunging into her with such a swift accuracy that it forced a sharp gasp from her throat.

Absently, Frankie waved for her to be quiet. "Hold on, they're talking about the game."

The long finger poked inside and slid about. With her teeth clenched tightly to prevent any further sounds from exiting, Carmela slowly undulated backwards, arching her ass against the invading digit. Junior's other hand now caressed the length of her leg.

"Shit, the game's going to start at five, not at three like I thought." She heard Frankie complaining from the first level. "Now, what'd you say?"

"You said the game was starting later," Carmela replied. "Does that mean you'll be coming home late?"

Frankie shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, I might. Depends on the evening traffic. Who knows how many people will want their cars washed later today, since they won't be heading straight home to watch the game at three, like I thought earlier."

"But I really wanted to spend some time with you." Carmela explained, suddenly remorseful. She hated that the only sexual attention she was getting was coming from outside of her marriage. "I hardly ever see you now, with you working every single day of the week."

Frankie casually returned his attention towards the TV screen. "Well, if you hadn't maxed out your credit cards, I wouldn't need to be working two jobs, now would I?"

Junior's daring hands reached up to fondle her naked ass. A short but powerful shudder ran through Carmela's spine, resulting in a quick and sharp yelp.

"Are you okay?" Frankie asked, this time not even bothering to glance up. "You're acting kind of weird today."

"I was about to sneeze, but I caught myself." Carmela lied, feeling the lone finger penetrate her again. Gritting her teeth together, she bucked back hard into Junior's steady hand. While keeping a close eye on her husband, she started shoving her ass backwards, even as the finger struggled to keep up with her movements.

"I hope you're not coming down with a cold or something."

"Ohhh, I hope I don't either." Carmela stammered, still driving herself back and lathering the invading finger with her wet pussy. "I think I'm getting a headache. Maybe I should lay down for a while."

"Yeah, take some of my vitamins, too." Frankie said, clicking the TV off. "I don't want you getting sick, because you might get me sick too. Then I might have to miss work, and it'll make it that much harder to pay off those fucking credit cards that you maxed out!"

Carmela nodded, concealing her flushed face by dropping her head on top of her arms. Her fingers were now tightly gripping the thick edge of the balcony.

Junior's face inched closer to her behind. His excited breaths blew warm air on her ass, while his tongue lashed out to probe between the swells of her buttocks.

"Oh, shit." Carmela mumbled sensually.

Junior's tongue revolved a few times around her anus, taking wet pokes at the spot and entering its secrets for only the minutest of moments. The tongue withdrew briefly, as if gathering its strength, until it charged forward once more. Pulling away, the tongue roamed a short distance south, prompting Carmela to arch her back further, to allow the slick appendage access to her moist pussy.

"I guess I should be heading out." Frankie called up to her, making his way across the living room floor. Instead of heading toward the door, however, he turned toward the kitchen. "Thanks for having the sandwich ready."

"Just the way you like it." Carmela replied, bracing herself as the invasive tongue began pumping in and out of her folds.

Frankie disappeared from view, briefly scaring Carmela with the impression that he was coming up the stairs. Once she'd heard him opening and closing the kitchen drawers, she relaxed a little. Because her husband was out of sight, she allowed the sensations of the skillful tongue behind her to rack her body. It was an intense and increasing pleasure.

"I don't want hot chips today. Do we still have any corn chips?" Frankie's voice could be heard from the kitchen.

"Not in the little bags," Carmela mouthed a steamy yet silent moan, then struggled to find her voice as the merciless tongue went to work on her clit. "There's half a bag of corn chips, aahh, in the back cabinet."

A few seconds passed before Frankie's voice reached her again. "I found it. Is it okay if I take the entire bag? It's nearly empty, anyway."

"Take it!" Carmela shouted down, even as a probing finger squeezed itself past her seducer's warm face. Oh, she was so ready for that finger, because it was longer than the tongue.

The finger traced upwards, ignoring the rapid movements of Junior's mouth. It centered itself right on Carmela's asshole. A few quick jabs signaled its intentions, causing the suddenly nervous woman to reach back with one hand in an effort to swipe it away. Frankie walked back into the living room. Just as Carmela brought her husband into focus, Junior forced his wet index finger right into her ass.

"Oh, oh!" Carmela winced, noting Frankie's quick glance upwards. "Sorry. I almost sneezed again."

Frankie simply shook his head and kept walking towards the front door. "You'd better not get sick. I mean it."

Carmela nodded, keeping her head down and barely, her breathing under control. She hissed down between her legs. "You son of a bitch."

"Hey, that's my mom you're talking about!" Junior whispered fiercely.

Frankie paused in the open doorway. "I'll see you later tonight. Okay?"

"Okay, Frankie." Carmela looked up, trying to give him her best smile. "Don't stay out too late."

"Laters." Frankie waved goodbye. "Don't forget to put some clothes on. And don't forget to take those vitamins, either."

The door closed shut behind him. A moment later, she could hear the deadbolt locking into place.

Junior pressed his face right up against her ass, using his tongue to try and squeeze into the tight space his finger had invaded only moments before. Carmela gave in to his erotic attention, gasping at the reckless intrusions and even arching her ass further back to greet him. When Junior's finger started creeping closer once again, she straightened up quickly and spun around to face the kneeling culprit.

"You little asshole! I can't believe you did that to me in front of Frankie! Do you know how close I came to screaming out loud?" Carmela shoved her stunned brother-in-law back so roughly he had no choice but to roll onto his back. Before he could react, Carmela mounted his thighs and clamped a tight grip on his shaft. She squeezed on it hard. "Do you know how much trouble you could have gotten me into? How about if I decide to stick my finger up your ass? Do you think you'll like it?"

"Ow, ow!" Junior groaned and chuckled at the same time. "Hey, I was just returning the favor. You went down on me first, remember?"

"Yeah, but I didn't have an audience watching me the whole time!" Carmela snapped back. "Imagine if your dumb brother had figured out what was really going on?"

"Hey, Frankie's not that dumb."

"Oh, whatever. He's as dumb as a couch!"

"Well, you married him!"

Carmela still held Junior's cock in her hand. She gave it a few more tugs, but these weren't as harsh as the last ones. There were so many things she could do with that cock, Carmela imagined, and she really wanted to take her time with it. A professional working woman like her didn't have the patience for any foreplay at the moment. She just wanted to get good and screwed, and right away!

Still in possession of the long and agreeable rod, Carmela poised her exceptional body to engulf it. "I know you want this."

"Hell yeah I do! I'm not denying that!"

As Carmela gracefully settled her weight onto Junior, she felt his cock sliding in smoothly into her steamy void. Just before she started her erotic ride, she leaned forward and placed her hands on either side of Junior's shoulders, gazing into his enthralled eyes even as her long, wavy hair dropped down around her.

"It's your lucky day." She purred. "Because I'm feeling very naughty right now."

If there was one thing that Junior had learned about women, it was to let them have their way if that's what they wanted. So when his brother's wife started a quiet and rhythmic grind, he simply lay there and trickled his hands across her sides every once in a while. Only when Carmela's breathing began to deepen, and when her movements began to accelerate, did he bring up his expectant hands and curl his fingers around the sweet swells of her bra.

At the height of her climax, Junior slipped her on her back and mounted her, pressing his flesh into her and clasping her shoulders to keep her in place. Keeping to the pace that Carmela had just set, he rocked back and forth with her. Junior felt the woman's long legs snare his lower back, and her arms clasp his upper half. Each of his timed thrusts coincided with the release of Carmela's hot breaths.

Finally, when Junior could hold back no longer, he slowed his pace. Instead of a fast and furious finish, he experienced a much more controlled, yet equally powerful climax. His head dropped next to Carmela's as he emptied out. Their perspiring faces brushed together, even as they mutually became aware of the sweet and cooling sweat on the exposed parts of their flesh. Still, they held each other close, as if what they'd just experienced might mean more than just a random fling, but each knowing that the truth was a much colder reality. When the moment of passion faded away, Junior rolled onto his back, giving Carmela whatever space he thought she might need.

"That was nice." She sighed, a few moments later. "I haven't had a good fuck like that in a long time. I really needed it like that too, like a lover would do it, instead of like a cheap quickie on a back seat."

Carmela sat up. She might have been feeling a bit of remorse for cheating on her husband, with his brother even. But then she recalled how she'd given Frankie plenty of opportunity to make something happen, and how her husband kept walking away from her each and every time. It was Frankie's fault that she'd cheated on him, she rightfully concluded. A woman like her had needs that had to be satisfied no matter what.