On a night when I drank quite a bit at a Christmas party, I decided to stay over at my brother-in-law's house with my husband because it was dangerous to drive home. In the middle of the night, feeling thirsty, I went to the kitchen for some water and found my brother-in-law watching TV alone, unable to sleep. He asked, "Can't sleep?" and I replied, "No, just thirsty," feeling awkward as I filled a glass with water from the tap. "This is the movie I borrowed from you last time, couldn't sleep so I was watching it," he said. I sat at the edge of the sofa with my glass, glancing at the screen. Feeling dizzy from drinking too much, I pressed my temples with my fists, and my brother-in-law, noticing, laughed and said, "You really drank a lot, didn't you?" as he massaged my shoulders. His breath, smelling of brandy, brushed against my ear, making my heart race for no reason. Flustered, I asked, "What are you drinking?" He removed his hand from my shoulder and showed me the bottle, saying, "This? It's an expensive one." He poured brandy into his half-empty glass and offered it to me. "Me? I've already had too much, I'm fine," I declined. "Just a little. You rarely get to drink this brandy," he insisted. In the awkward atmosphere, I took a sip, saying, "Just a taste." Even though I didn't drink much, I gradually felt lightheaded. As we silently watched TV, sipping our drinks, his arm somehow ended up around my shoulder. I wondered how it came to this, feeling dazed and warm. He smelled nice. Before I knew it, I was resting my head on his shoulder, dozing off. Just before falling asleep, his hand gently stroked my collarbone, sending a shiver of pleasure through me, and I let out a small "Mmm..." involuntarily. His hand continued to trace my collarbone slowly and quietly, and he pressed his warm body closer to mine. I opened my eyes slowly and looked up at him, seeing his eyes glistening in the dim light of the TV. Unable to look away, I stared into his eyes, and he leaned in, lightly brushing his lips against mine. Stunned by the suddenness, I couldn't say anything, holding my breath as he gently stroked my hair, saying, "I've always thought you were cute." I didn't know how to respond and remained silent. The sound of our breathing echoed in the midnight living room. My heart was pounding. I could feel his heartbeat vividly. Hesitantly, his hand reached for my chest, lightly touching my nipple from behind as if to embrace me. I was overwhelmed with sensation, focusing all my energy on controlling my breathing. Slowly, slowly, he rubbed the most sensitive tip of my nipple. I could feel my breathing becoming erratic. Both nipples were being teased simultaneously, and embarrassingly, I was already wet. I could feel myself twitching. But he didn't go any further. I was filled with shame at how much I was feeling just from my nipples. He continued to rub my nipples while his lips moved from my neck to my ear. "Ahh," I let out an involuntary moan. His tongue made wet sounds in my ear, and I lost track of how loud my voice was. Finally, he moved one hand to my underwear, tracing the already wet area slowly from above. I completely lost control, desperately trying to stop myself from moving my hips. Realizing I was already craving him, I was confused. His tongue entered my mouth, and the pressure on my nipples increased slightly. I could feel warm liquid seeping from my lower body. I was completely desiring him. I was desperately devouring his lips. At one point, he skillfully unhooked my bra through my clothes and began to directly stroke my nipples through my thin top. "Ahhh..." The stimulation was too strong for me, who had already been feeling it for a long time, and I let out a moan. The deep kiss escalated intensely, as if to stifle my voice. My underwear was already heavily stained. Unable to hold back, I pulled down my stockings myself. He silently traced his fingers over me. Immediately, a lewd sound echoed. Slowly, slowly, his fingers traced my slit. Even a brief touch on my clit sent electric shocks through my body. While rolling my nipples with his fingertips, he stimulated my clit, and I was lost in devouring his lips, I think. His fingers led me to climax with a perfect rhythm. Just as I was about to come, he suddenly weakened the rhythm, maintaining the pace while pinching my nipples harder, then suddenly attacked my clit intensely. I felt like I was being tortured, lost in a frenzy, pulling down his pants and taking his rock-hard member into my mouth. Slowly, thoroughly, I licked the tip, stimulating it with saliva. His breathing became increasingly ragged. While I was licking his member on the sofa, he didn't stop rolling my nipples with his fingers. I became more and more aroused, and I was soaking wet. Straddling his lap, I asked in a small voice while kissing, "Can I put it in?" He asked, "But aren't you married to my brother?" It was then that I came to my senses, realizing I had done something terrible. Hastily, I pulled up my underwear and moved away from him, sitting back on the sofa. My heart was pounding, and I was still twitching down there. Trying to calm my breathing, he suddenly kissed me passionately. "Ah," the sudden kiss reignited my suppressed desire. From there, he was like a different person, a beast. He roughly tore off my underwear, forcefully spread my legs, and thrust into me. "Ahhh, ah," our voices echoed in the living room. A pleasure like my head was shattering overwhelmed me. He moved his hips roughly like a beast in heat, searching for my pleasure spots from various angles. Pulling my hips closer, he placed a cushion between my back and the sofa, spreading my legs wide and thrusting intensely. "Ahhh, ah, ah," the intense pleasure climbed, and sparks flew in my head. At the same time, I twitched with great force. Simultaneously, his release splattered onto my stomach. After a moment of daze, I dressed silently and returned to the bedroom where my husband was sleeping. The next morning at breakfast, he acted completely normal. His wife and child, unaware, laughed innocently. Watching them, I began to think that maybe last night was just a dream. To this day, I've never talked about it with him, and our days as an ordinary family continue.

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