Tandra was the effervescent little sister of my wife Sandra. Sandra and I met in high school. We dated all the way through college, and then we got married a couple of years after that. Tandra was only two years younger than Sandra, and while Sandra and Tandra were always close as sisters, they both had quite different styles and tastes in life, men, clothes and just about everything else.

I am conservative in my approach to life, but I am not dogmatic; I am practical when it comes to decision making. I prefer to please others rather than myself, although I will admit to being a small bit selfish from time to time.

When I married Sandra, Tandra pulled me aside and told me I was marrying the wrong Worthington. I was shocked, because while Tandra was cute, she was not what I was looking for, since she tended to be a bit more liberal and unsettled. It was no secret that she would date just about any guy who would cave into her demands and selfish wishes.

Eventually Tandra got married to a great guy. Sandra and I took bets on how long the marriage would last. That sounds horrible, but we both knew the marriage was not going to be lengthy. 

The marriage lasted five years longer than I thought it would. Tandra was not the least bit devastated, saying that her ex was too controlling and manipulating. Like she was not? 

Sandra and I had a decent marriage, but we also had our own issues. The Worthington’s were well off, as far as family fortunes, while I came from more modest means. Sandra and I bought a large half-million-dollar house in a Dallas suburb. It was just the two of us in the house. I wanted a family, but Sandra did not, and that was a constant source of friction between us. Then, unexpectedly, Tandra inserted herself into things.

Tandra called Sandra one night and said she was having issues with her ex, who had demanded that she see him, even though they were divorced. Sandra suggested Tandra come spend a few days with us until she could figure out a different living arrangement and perhaps consult legal counsel about next steps in dealing with her ex.

I did not have any issues with Tandra staying with us because we had a spare bedroom -- a guest bedroom complete with its own shower and bath down-stairs.

The first couple of days, we only saw Tandra at breakfast and after she got home from her secretarial job, for dinner. Outside of that, we hardly saw her as she secluded herself away in the guest bedroom.

Friday nights are my nights out for poker with some guys from the Country Club. Sandra gets Saturday night out with the ladies in exchange for allowing me a Boys night out.

I staggered in the house around 1:30am on Friday night after some heavy drinking and poker playing to see Tandra lounging about on the couch, watching television.

“Welcome home,” Tandra cheerily called out from the couch, scaring the crap out of me. I had not expected anyone to be on the couch. I glanced at the couch to see Tandra laying on it, sporting some gym shorts and a tight-fitting t-shirt. There was something different about her, but I could not really put my finger on it.

“You scared the crap out of me,” I pronounced, as I made my way to the stairs which would lead me to the bed I needed.

“Have a good night and sweet dreams,” Tandra added as I pounded my way up the stairs. There was something in her voice that made me think that she was up to something.

The next morning, I slept in while Sandra had breakfast with Tandra. I woke up to hear them talking in the kitchen, but I could not make out what they were saying or talking about. Sandra cleaned up while Tandra took a shower. Then Sandra showered, and said that she was going to Walmart. I assumed Tandra was accompanying her.

I showered and decided to grab a bite to eat from the refrigerator. I was just sitting down to eat, clothed in nothing but my boxer shorts, when Tandra happened out of the guest bedroom, clad in a rather revealing itty-bitty tiny bikini. Holy smokes.

“I’m going for a swim,” Tandra pronounced. It was a little chilly outside, so I was surprised she was going for swim.

I watched in stunned silenced as she sauntered out the sliding glass doors to the pool area behind our kitchen. I still hadn’t put my finger on what was so different about Tandra, but I knew something was different.

I looked outside, to let her know I was heading upstairs for a quick shower, but I didn’t see her anywhere. Then she called out from the hot tub.

“I’m over here, come and sit with me.”

It was at this point, that I lost my mind. I have no idea what I was thinking. I slipped out to the hot tub, clad only in my boxer shorts.

“Come on,” Tandra beckoned. “Sit with me a little bit.”

And so, against any better judgement, I slipped and into the swirling waters with its steamy vapor rising skyward. Tandra was submerged up to her chin in the water.

“I have to ask you something,” I began as Tandra shifted in the hot tub to accommodate me.

“Go ahead,” Tandra replied nonchalantly.

“Did you get a boob job?” I asked.

I knew it was a personally touchy subject and perhaps taboo, but I was curious. Tandra had always had small titties and now, it seemed as if her boobs had increased in size, tremendously. My question was not meant as a pretext to anything else. I was simply curious.

Tandra sat up in the hot tub and smiled.

“You’re just noticing?” she asked.

“Not really,” I replied. “I just didn’t know if I should ask.”

Tandra shifted in the hot tub again, sitting up enough so the streams of water ran down her upper chest towards her man-made breasts.

“Yes,” Tandra replied, “I had them enhanced several years ago. What do you think about them?”

“They’re nice,” I replied non-chalantly, trying hard to not make a big deal out of my query.

“Guys like ‘em,” Tandra said.

“I’m sure they do,” I replied.

“Would you like to see them?” Tandra asked.

The fear of me getting caught ran through my mind.

“I better not,” I replied.

Tandra stood up in the waist deep hot tub, facing me and untied the tie to her string bikini top, allowing it to drop into the water. She had unabashedly placed her assets on full display for me to see.

Holy crap!

She cupped her 38-D cup breasts in her hands, smiled and proffered a very pronounced wink. Her nipples stood perfectly perched on top of perfectly shaped D sized globes.

“Would you like to feel them?” Tandra asked.

“I better not,” I repeated.

Tandra stepped closer to where I was seated.

“Oh! Come on, you know you’d love to feel these puppies!” Tandra remarked. “There’s nothing wrong in feeling them,”

“I’ll take your word for it,” I replied.

Tandra was adamant and I knew that if I did not acquiesce, she would pitch a fit and say that I did not care about her or her feelings. I cared about Tandra, just not sexually, but the battle to avoid the sexual demarcation line was fixing to get crossed and I knew it.

In my mind, I was fighting a battle against doing the wrong thing, while Tandra was pushing the envelope. With Tandra’s prodding and help, I found my hand on her man-made boobs, lightly fondling them as Tandra stepped between my parted legs.

“So, what do you think?” she asked as she held my hand in place over her left boob.

“Very nice,” I replied. Tandra grabbed my free hand and placed it on her right boob.

“Firm but not saggy,” Tandra said, holding both my hands to her breasts.

“Try the nipple,” Tandra instructed. I ran my fingertip over one of her hardened nipples.

“No silly,” Tandra replied, “Suck on it.”

I looked up at her to make sure I had heard correctly. what she had said.

“Go ahead,” she replied, “Suck on it. You’ll like it.”

Going against every fiber in my body, I placed my lips on to her left nipple and began to light suck on it.

“That feels soooo gooood,” Tandra replied, holding my head in place with her hands. “Do the other one too.”

I did as she instructed.

“We better stop,” I said after a few moments of intense titty sucking.

“Why stop?” Tandra replied. “We’re just getting started.”

Damn. Tandra suddenly launched herself on to my lap, facing me, her knees straddling my hips, her hands on my shoulders and her boobs pressing against me.

“We can’t…” I started to say, before Tandra placed a lone finger over my lips.

“We can,” Tandra shot back.

I knew there was no way to argue with her and come out a winner.

Tandra leaned in and we kissed. Oh Lord.

There was no going back at this point. I was fully committed.

I suggested that we go in the house. We ended up in the guest bedroom. Tandra was unlike her older sister. She was sexually liberated. She knew what she wanted, and she was not shy in asking for it. I was more than happy to oblige all her requests.

I hovered over her, as she spread her legs to welcome my advances. She helped position me for a top down entrance. Once our pelvic bones crashed into one another, we quickly fell into a rhythmic motion that belied any explanation. I could not believe the stamina that I had suddenly summoned. Tandra was more than willing to take what I had to give.

We switched into several different positions, taking our time to experiment in the process. Tandra was unbelievably adept at whatever we tried. She was a real trooper that took as much as she gave. I lost track of her orgasms. And just when I thought she was done, she would come roaring back and begging me to keep going. I finally dumped my load into to her from behind, as she leaned forward, extending her reach across the bed, her ass pointing skyward, propped up by her knees.

I grew to admire and respect my sister-in-law so much that day and our relationship blossomed after that, in every aspect.

That night I made wildly passionate love to Sandra, something that hadn't happened in years.

“What brought all this on?” Sandra asked as we laid naked in our bed, staring up at the ceiling after a marathon sex session.

In my mind, it was guilt.

“I don’t know,” I replied, “I figured I needed to step up and be a husband for once.”

“Well,” Sandra said wryly, “Whatever it is that is motivating you, just keep on doing it.”

“I plan to,” I replied.

Tandra stayed with us for another week. I hated to see her leave, but we made an agreement, to keep things going. 

I am going to try and live up to it, even if it kills me.

As for Sandra and I, we couldn’t be happier. She’s even thinking of getting a boob job. I can only hope it bests her sister's.