Sister-in-law's stockings

Chapter
1: My Foot Fetish Was Discovered by My Brother.
Another year has passed. Although there was an economic crisis this year, my family's business was still doing well, and the year-end payments have all arrived. The brother I'm talking about is the son of Master Zhao, who used to work at my dad's company. Actually, we're not related. Master Zhao and my dad were good friends, and I used to play at their house when I was little. We've always been close. Brother Zhao is five years older than me. He got married five years ago (people in their countryside get married early, and I was in college at the time, so I didn't even go to his wedding. Looking back, I really regret it; his wife must have been even prettier then). The year Brother Zhao got married, he had a healthy baby boy, and he was overjoyed. But that year, Master Zhao passed away during the Spring Festival (I later heard it was related to his wife, which is why she listened to him a lot). After Master Zhao passed away, my dad recruited Brother Zhao to work at my company, so he's very grateful to my dad and has been especially good to me. Over the past few years, he's brought all sorts of gifts to my house during the Spring Festival and other holidays. My computer and game console were gifts from him.
I met my sister-in-law last year. At my dad's repeated requests, Brother Zhao brought her and their three-year-old son to my house that year, even begging my dad to hire her at the company. But it seems my dad didn't agree, so I don't know what she does, though I know she used to be an accountant. My first impression of her that year wasn't anything special; she looked like an ordinary young woman with short hair, very innocent-looking, not at all like someone who had given birth. It was winter when I saw her, and she was wearing cotton socks and trousers. I didn't really look at her feet closely, but my impression of her was that she had a good figure, a rather demure woman.
Anyway, back to the beginning of this year when I saw her again. It was after the company's performance celebration. Brother Zhao treated the company leaders to dinner. My dad couldn't go that day, so I went. That's when I learned that Brother Zhao had started his own company, and he was now acting as an employee of our company. My sister-in-law was the boss, and Brother Zhao was the business director at our company—doing a great job! When I sat down next to my sister-in-law for dinner, I noticed that she had changed. She had long, curly hair, and was wearing a white top, a plaid cotton skirt, flesh-colored stockings, and black boots. She looked very professional. She started calling me "Young Master" right away, very sweet-talking, and even offered me drinks. She drank baijiu (Chinese white liquor), and I drank red wine. She seemed to have a good capacity for alcohol; she toasted everyone right at the beginning, downing half a jin (250ml). Brother Zhao also kept toasting the company leaders. Because my dad is the boss, everyone was very polite to me, so I didn't toast them, only taking a sip of what they offered me. Brother Zhao probably drank too much, and seeing I was drinking red wine slowly, he asked my sister-in-law to drink with me. How could she refuse? With everyone's encouragement, I drank a glass of red wine, and she drank a glass of baijiu. After two glasses, she exclaimed how strong I was, and then we downed half a bottle of red wine together. Now I was a little tipsy too. My sister-in-law, drunk, slumped onto the table and fell asleep. Meanwhile, Brother Zhao was still chatting animatedly with several company leaders and clients. At this moment, I took a good look at my sister-in-law. She had one arm propped up on the table, her eyes closed, her face turned towards me. My sister-in-law had regular features and wasn't wearing heavy makeup. Her skin was fair and smooth, and she had one arm draped over her leg, occasionally touching the sliver of flesh between her skirt and boots. This sight touched me, and my heart inexplicably raced. Just then, Brother Zhao seemed to notice the difference in my gaze towards my sister-in-law. He came over and gave me a key card, saying, "Room 117. You and your sister-in-law can go up and rest for a bit. I'll be back in a bit." Then he pulled my sister-in-law into my arms, even giving her a light slap on the bottom, saying, "Go to the room and rest. Take good care of our young master." My sister-in-law slumped against my chest, her hand thrown back, and muttered, "Leave me alone." Then, half-heartedly, she followed me out of the private room. She was very close to me, and I took a deep breath. I noticed she had a natural fragrance, definitely not perfume, like the scent of a woman after exercise, with a hint of shampoo. The smell of alcohol wasn't strong. I half-carried, half-helped her to the room. All the way, I was drawn in by her fragrance, feeling as excited as if I were dancing with a beautiful young woman. Once inside, my sister-in-law said she wanted to take a shower. Ugh! I was startled. She staggered to the sofa, lay back on it, unbuttoned two buttons of her shirt, and fell asleep without moving. I was still intoxicated by the fragrance (I'm not young anymore; I know not every woman has this scent. Prostitutes who come out for fun wear perfume, needless to say, but most women who have given birth wouldn't have such a captivating fragrance). Looking at my sleeping sister-in-law, my mind wandered. Suddenly, my gaze was drawn to the glimpse of her silk-stockinged legs beneath her skirt. I thought, "She's wearing stockings and boots, isn't she?" A strange impulse surged within me—did her feet have that fragrant scent? I looked around the room; it was just me and my sister-in-law. She seemed to be sleeping soundly. I quietly walked up to her, gently brushed the hair away from her face, and saw how sweetly she was sleeping. I was still a little nervous, after all, we had only met twice. I took her hand and placed it on her silk-stockinged leg, slowly lifting her skirt to reveal the top of her stockings—very thin stockings, clinging to her fair, smooth thighs. Seeing that she didn't react, I became bolder. I ran the back of my hand down the top of her stockings, unzipped her boots, and slowly took them off. A pair of snow-white, smooth silk-stockinged feet came into view. So beautiful! I exclaimed. I bent down to bring my face to her feet, pressed my nose against the instep of her feet, and took a deep breath. What a beautiful scent! The faint, alluring fragrance mingled with a subtle leather scent. I inhaled deeply, like breathing in oxygen, pressing my lips to my sister-in-law's instep, finding the scent intensifying closer to her toes. I was so captivated by the aroma that I lifted her foot and buried my face in its sole, greedily inhaling the wondrous fragrance. Yet, I kept glancing to see if I had woken her. She remained fast asleep, as if under a spell. But as I looked at her face, I lifted her right foot and was astonished to discover that she wasn't wearing underwear. Beneath her skirt, through the hazy fabric of her stockings, glimpsed flesh-colored fabric and the dark red of her private parts. I wondered where such flesh-colored underwear could be found, and just as I was about to reach up and lift her skirt, I was nearly scared to death by a sound behind me.

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