"Damn it, we made such a mess," came a shout from the next room, followed by a raucous laugh.
My hand went quickly over the phone's receiver and I removed it again once the shouting stopped. "No, that wasn't some here. "I'm not cheating- I swear-." When the phone had rung, I had rushed so quickly down the hall to answer it, but what had been the point? It had only lead to another argument. Possibly no worse than if I hadn't answered at all. "-it's your sister-
"We're trying to finish painting our spare room, you know, the one I've been asking you to do for ages now
"-We knocked over the paint bucket by accident.
Again, noise from the other room, a heavy sigh and my hand flew over the receiver. "Be quiet! I'm on the phone!", I grumbled hushedly down the hall, although, it could possibly be heard in the phone. Removing my hand once again, I heard shouting. "What?"
"Calm down! I promise you that it's just Miley. She is cleaning up the paint
"I have to go. I will call you back later."
I ended the call and put the phone down, my shoulders sagging with relief as if they'd been holding up a great weight. Hopefully, he hadn't doubted me. I bit my lip, worried that he had decided to leave work and come home earlier. No, work is important to us, he wouldn't do that. Pushing the thought back in my mind, I went back to my bedroom, scuffing my feet along the carpet.
Rounding the corner, into the room, I set eyes upon the buxom bare woman laying on the bed who is my sister-in-law, Miley. "I'm not lying on that side," she told me, pointing to the other side of the bed. Instead, she lay on his side of the bed; her brother's and my husband's.
"Why?", I asked slowly, drawing out the vowel-like consonant.
She side-eyed the patch next to her, a smug smile covering her face. "I think I made you quite happy before, don't you?"
Looking at my side of the bed, I realised what she meant and felt the temperature rise in my cheeks. "Oh."
Flipping over, Miley crawled toward me. Lying on her stomach and crossing her ankles behind her. "You're cute when embarrassed."
Instantly, my hands flew to my face to hide my cheeks. "I'm not."
"You are." She giggled. "Who was it who rang just now?"
I looked down, my hands still covering my blush. "Your brother."
"Just ringing to say he's coming home late again?"
"No, to continue- uh, nothing." I paused, I didn't want to think about the argument again. "I told him you're here."
"You did?", Miley asked with pleased curiosity.
I nod. "I told him we're painting the spare room." Still smugly pleased, her eyes widen in surprise. "So I'd better get painting then. I don't want him to suspect any-"
Quickly and a lot more fluidly than I could have done it, Miley got into a crunched position and leapt over the pine bed frame, over to me. Her hands holding around the top of my biceps, she bent her knees to look up into my eyes. I reluctantly looked down into hers. "What if he sees us?"
"Then we'll paint the spare room," she answered in calming reassurance. "Just not right now, okay?"
"Why?"
"I want you at least one more time before we do." Then it was as if she could read my expression of doubt; the worry I felt about him coming home now. Seeing his sister and I in our marital bed, unclothed. What would he say? Would he yell? Would he throw things? Would he just leave again and not return? I don't know. I didn't have much more time to think about it because Miley knew exactly what to say to settle this feeling. "He's not coming now. Trust yourself, you said it, he's not the type to leave work before the end of the day. If anything, he'll probably stay longer, like he usually does."
"Yeah, you're probably right."
"Of course I am." She dropped her right hand and her left trailed gently down my arm, only to interlock her fingers with mine. "C'mon, we'll start painting shortly." With a smile that made my knees weak, I followed her to the mattress where she pushed me down onto it...
About 27 and a half minutes later, I lay sprawled on the bed; legs split around the second patch of wet on the sheets. Feeling exhausted and energised at the same time. I stared up at the lampshade that I had picked out with my husband, many years ago; a time when we were all loved up and any arguments were only silly little disagreements. Now, not so much.
I let out an exasperated sigh.
"That wasn't the sound of someone who had enjoyed what we just did," Miley stated with uncertainly in her voice.
"No, no, no," I immediately tried to assure her after realising what I had done. I rolled over onto my side, to within an inch of Miley. "I did, I really did. My brain just... started wandering."
Also turning onto her side, the opposite of mine, it would seem so that she could look me in the eye. "Don't do that, don't want it getting lost." I laughed, lowering my chin to my chest.
Fingers crawled under my chin and gently they pulled me closer to her lips. She kissed me before telling me, "I love you."
I was surprised, at least, that's what my face showed. But the startled "what?!" didn't come from me.
Both of our heads swivelled toward the door. Standing in the doorway, mouth angrily gapped open, was Miley's older brother and my husband; Robert.
Your marriage is on the rocks, arguing and a general lack of communication. It really isn't going so well. But there is someone on your spouse's side of the family with who you have a connection. What happens when that starts to heat up? Will your spouse find and if they do, will your marriage fall apart?
Tiny little risqué whispers of romance stories from the imaginations of a few. From rumbled marriages and unhealthy flings, to a misunderstood neighboured relationship to insecure friends with benefits. Every romance in life is different, and every sexuality is different. Venture into these stories to appreciate the diversity of a relationship.
These stories started from prompts on the Shanniiwrites forums, where myself and a few others spend a week or two adding to each story. Each whisper (story) will be different, but they will have one thing in common, they will all involve overly romantic and/or partially sexual content.
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