I think I'm about to get into trouble. It doesn't happen often, and like any other time, I didn't even know it was coming. There were three causes this time, and I'm only responsible for two of them.
The first cause started long before I even started dating my wife. We've been married more than twenty years, so it's been an issue for a while. I've tried my best, but the problem is still there.
My wife has four sisters, two older and two younger, with a sixteen-year spread between the oldest and the youngest. When the older two hit their twenties, they blossomed into gorgeous women. Somehow, the younger three have always felt that they would never be as pretty as the older two. Even as they grew into beautiful women themselves, they still felt inadequate.
The second cause is much more recent. When my parents died, a lot of their stuff ended up in my garage because I had space. There were boxes of photos of people I didn't recognize, and I wanted answers. First, I started scanning and documenting them, and then I set up a home file server so that my aunts could remotely access the files to provide information.
I ended up expanding the server, and now I have more than twenty relatives using it for storage. Each person has access to their own exclusive folder, one shared by immediate family, and one shared by extended family.
Now that it is all set up, my wife has gone out of her way to track down all the family photos she can so I can classify and store them.
Recently, she found a box of photos that have been in storage in my garage for more than fifteen years. The box got wet in a flood once, and I've never taken the time to properly recover the contents. With the file server up and running, my wife pestered me to deal with that box.
There was a set of about a dozen photos in the box that relate to both the first and third causes. The actual photos were too damaged to recover, but the negatives were useable. I managed to get them scanned and cleaned up a bit, and then I stored the pictures in the proper place. My wife saw them as I was working on them, but since my younger sister-in-law is the main subject, I put them in a folder that only she has access to.
The third cause is how I spoil my wife. My wife and I were not young when we got married. She was twenty and I was twenty-two. We weren't virgins either, so I expected some racy fun on our wedding night. Somehow, I had dated my wife for two years and never realized that she didn't own any sexy nightclothes at all.
We certainly had some naked fun on our wedding night, but the next day I spoiled her by taking her to buy some new things. She absolutely loved the red silk and lace bra and panties that I bought her, and she adored her sheer black robe as well. Neither of us could wait to get home to dress her up and then properly undress her.
Unfortunately, her younger sister was waiting at our house when we got there, so our plans had to wait. My wife couldn't help but show off her new things, and suddenly, they were trying them on. It was my wife's idea to show her younger sister how pretty she was by taking photos.
I swear nothing else happened, but her sister was certainly feeling better about herself when she left, and as newlyweds, my wife and I got busy with our original plans. Those old pictures are safely on the file server where only her sister can see them. Of course, her sister is free to do with them as she pleases.
Twenty-some years later, I still spoil my wife with new silk for special occasions like birthdays, anniversaries, and Wednesdays. We may not celebrate as vigorously as newlyweds would, but we enjoy ourselves. You wouldn't think this would cause trouble, but it did.
===
Like I said, my wife and I have been married more than twenty years, and we still enjoy ourselves. While we often enjoy weekends away for fun, not every weekend is dedicated to sexual pursuits.
One of the traditions that have grown between my wife and her sisters is 'mother/daughter dinner and theatre night'. It started with her and her oldest sister, and expanded to include the other sisters. Sometimes they go to a dinner theater that is close to our house, and they spend an entire Saturday afternoon and evening out. Sometimes they go to one of the theaters in Chicago or Milwaukee, and they get hotel rooms and spend the night.
Mostly, I stay out of their plans. With all of our daughters in tow, their chatter would drive me nuts. When my wife made plans for a Chicago show, I made plans to put a serious dent in the box of old photos. With a little whiskey and cola to fuel me, I was going to keep the photo and film scanners going all night!
They had been gone for nearly an hour when a car pulled into my driveway. I took a peek out the window and saw it was my youngest sister-in-law, Theresa. She saw me wave, and she let herself in.
Apparently, she was angry. She didn't say hello or anything.
"I always expected this kind of favoritism bullshit from Dad," she accused. "I've always respected you because I thought you were better than that. What the fuck were you thinking?"
Twenty plus years of dealing with my wife's family has taught me that I needed to respond with either fists and greater outrage or honey and smooth words. I chose the latter.
"Theresa, darling, my favorite sister-in-law, would you be so kind as to tell me what I have done so I can make it up to you?"
She glared at me because she knew what I was trying to do.
"Open the picture of Kathy in the black lace with her arms up," she demanded.
I kind of shrugged and turned to my computer. I was surprised that she was angry about that picture. It was the first of the set, and her sister was almost fully covered in it. It took me a minute to track it down and open it.
"I saw the email you sent her letting her know the pictures were there," she spat. "You said that Becky took the pictures."
I couldn't deny that I had mentioned in the email that my wife had taken the pictures. I suspected that Kathy's husband would see the email, and I offered a convenient lie, just in case. If Kathy wanted to share the truth with him, that was fine with me as well.
As the picture opened, Theresa's finger shot out and pointed at the corner of the picture. There was a reflection on a lamp on the nightstand. Although the image was distorted, it was clearly my wife's smiling face.
"What the fuck is that?" she demanded. "Clearly Becky didn't take these pictures, which means you did!"
"I won't deny it," I responded, "and the only person who has a reason to be upset is Kathy's husband." My tone changed as I started to shift from honey to fists. "Do you want to explain why you think you should be upset?"
"I'm upset because I'm upset," she screamed logically. "Tom's not going to give a shit that you took them. He's been too busy fucking her brains out for the last two days since he saw them."
She actually shook her fists at me in anguish.
"Where the fuck are my pictures?" she demanded. "Where the fuck are my pictures that I can flaunt at Roger to remind him that he's supposed to lust after me? Where the fuck are my pictures so I can get my brains fucked out? You took pictures of Kathy because she's taller and prettier and then you shared them and you didn't give a damn about me! It's not fucking fair!"
"Theresa, we took those pictures twenty years ago," I said calmly. "Kathy wasn't yet eighteen, which makes them fairly inappropriate. You were only just sixteen! Even if you had been there, it would have been completely inappropriate. We didn't exclude you for any reason. It just happened. What do you want me to do?"
I knew I was in trouble by the way her eyes lit up. I'd seen that look from her sister, my wife, a million times, and I knew there was no use in fighting whatever she asked for.
"Becky said you just bought her something new. Get your camera. I want pictures that will blow Roger's socks off!"
I only had to consider for half a second. I nodded thoughtfully as I got up from my chair.
My main concern was for the lingerie. The latest outfit I had bought was a little bit tight on my wife. Her sister had a bigger bust, and we would need to be careful not to tear the fabric. Also, taking mostly nude pictures tends to rev up the libido of the subject. My wife had yet to model her new things for me, and I didn't want her sister to soil the garments.
I led Theresa up to the bedroom and asked her to be careful as I gave her several garments. I left her alone to change as I retrieved my camera. I took my time, and by the time I got back upstairs, the bedroom door was open and Theresa was sprawled on the bed.
She took my breath away. I knew she worked out, but her body was smoking hot. She certainly didn't look like a thirty-nine-year-old with two kids.
Luckily the outfit she chose was not the new one. It was all one piece, but the only bits of cloth were at the crotch and nipples. The rest of it was made of thin rope and delicate knots. She may not have known, but the bits of cloth were easily removable.
She saw me stop to gawk, and she blushed, even as she smiled.
"Nice choice," I offered. "When we're done, you should wear that home and see if Roger doesn't notice. Will you mind if I change one thing?"
She instantly looked self-conscious.
"Is it too tight?" she gasped. "I'll switch to the red or the peach if you want."
