MARTINIS WITH MY MOTHER-IN-LAW

I don't have much of an imagination, so I'm going to have to resort to digging into my past for any "good" stories. I'll leave you all to judge if any of it is good, exciting, titillating, what have you. To protect us All the names and key circumstances have been changed. But otherwise, this is all true.

Twenty years ago, shortly after I was married, my wife and I went down south to visit her mother, who was herself, a transplant from the east coast. She had a main house in the city, and then a lake house 45 minutes away. On this particular trip, my wife was going to meet up with some cousins at the lake house for a girl's night. The plan was for her mom and I to join her and the cousins the following day, and then spend a long weekend. But the first night was to be "girls only."

Her mom was a banker by trade, and pretty successful. She had broken through the glass ceiling, had a nice house, drove a beautiful Jaguar. And she liked to drink. So did I. So if there was one subject on which we could bond, it was certainly our affinity for throwing back a few. Don't get me wrong, neither of us were fall down drunks. It's just that, at the time, I was a newly degreed ex-college kid who could more than drink his share of beer, and she was a hard working woman who enjoyed the finer things. And martinis.

My wife had already left for the lake house, and I was sitting on the couch at her mom's, when I heard the garage door open. I looked in that direction, and before long, the house door opened and her mom came in carrying a briefcase and a rain coat.

"Hey there"

"Hey Linda" I responded.

"How was your drive down?"

"Good. We made good time and Lisa already left for the lake house."

"Oh, well that's nice. What are your plans for dinner?"

"I don't have any. Maybe go down to the drive-thru."

"Well, I was thinking we could go downtown to this martini bar my friend introduced me to. They have great food and awesome martinis. Do you like martinis?"

"I've never had one."

"Well I think you'll like them. And even if you don't at first, believe me, they grow on you."

"Hey, sounds good to me. I love good food and drinks."

"Right, I know you do. If we're going to go we should leave now. It tends to get pretty crowded fast. Might already be too late."

"Ok, let's go. Am I ok like this?" I asked.

"Oh yeah, you're fine. If it's ok with you, I'd like to just go like this. I don't think we have time for me to change."

As Linda held out her hands to present her work attire, I noticed (again) that she really was a good looking woman. In her late forties, she was five-foot-five, dark brown hair, probably 140 pounds. She was far from fat, but had nice sized breasts, shapely hips, round ass and just enough of a build to qualify as voluptuous. She took care of herself. In her position, she had to. Her hair and make-up was always done, and her nails were always manicured. She even had nice feet and often wore shoes that showed them off. She was wearing a maroon flower print dress that ended just above her knees, nude nylons, and beige open toed shoes. For a mother-in-law, she looked damn good.

"No, what you're wearing is fine. It will be fun." I advised.

"Alright then, let's head out."

Linda was always a take-charge kind of gal. At times, she could be really overbearing. But that was also her charm, so long as you didn't let her run you over. And run you over she would, given half a chance. So I had to be prepared to put up a road block if needed.

We arrived at the restaurant and the waiter showed us to our seats. The restaurant was dark, with a lot of interior brick, but was accented enough by neon signs. I have to admit, I felt a bit odd wearing jeans and showing up with a woman so much older than I, dressed as formally as she was. Maybe it was my imagination, but I thought I felt people looking at us, trying to make sense of us. Was I her child? Her employee? Her beau?

This was back when you could still smoke in designated areas, so the air was thick. Linda surprised me when she pulled out a cigarette.

"Don't you dare tell Lisa." Linda had quit years ago.

"I won't say a word." I smiled.

"Want one?"

"Sure. But don't you dare tell Lisa."

"I won't say a word." Linda smiled, then looked up at the waiter who had just approached "We'll have martinis, Goose, up, dirty, blue cheese stuffed olives."

"Yes M'am." The waiter returned in his novel-to-me Southern drawl. Before he turned to walk away, I saw him steal a peak at Linda. It was also novel-to-me to see another guy checking out my mother-in-law. As I already stated, she's a not a back looking broad. Fetching even. But there is that line between what is allowed and good and right and appropriate, and what isn't.

I was still young, but a quick study. I would soon learn that Lines blur. All the time.

"Here are your drinks." The waiter carefully placed the full glasses in front of us, without spilling a drop. Impressive. He also stole another look, but I think this time he was checking out her legs. Linda was oblivious to the eye raping.

"So here you go. Your first martini. I have to tell you, I love them. Cheers." Delicately, she raised her glass, and with a wink, she tipped the glass gently towards me, then raised it to her red lips. Smiling, I returned the gesture. The liquid was ice cold, like water, with a sharp finish. But it was good, and I could smell the olives.

"Mmmm. It's cold."

"You like it?"

"Very much. I smell olives."

"That's the dirty part. They drop some olive juice in the drink. Makes it good. And it will buzz you. Believe me. Two of these fuckers and you'll be real happy."

Linda gave a belly laugh. It wasn't unusual to hear her curse. And I always liked that. There were so many times I felt closer to Linda than to my own wife, in that we had similar personalities and similar likes. Lisa was quiet, reserved. A wall flower. Linda liked to be the center of attention and would always risk offending rather than risk obscurity.

"Well then, here's to being real happy."

We enjoyed our meals and the second martini. The waiter tempted us with a third, but we wisely decided to leave before we couldn't. My tolerance held me up better than Linda who was slurring her words. When we got up to leave, I stood above her and held out my hand to help her stand.

"Well thank you." It was a good thing I did, as she definitely needed to use me for leverage. As she stood, her silky maroon dress clung to her thighs, thick and encased in a nice nude nylon, I could now see the legs that so held our waiter's attention. Unlike the waiter, Linda may have caught me looking, but said nothing.

"Here, you drive." Linda tossed me the keys to her Jaguar as we walked out to the parking lot. I had driven it before and really enjoyed the smell of the leather, and the view out over the long hood with the beautiful Jaguar Leaper leading the way. When we got to the car, I lead her to the door, opened it, and waited for her to get in. Of course, as much as I am a gentleman, I also wanted to steal another view of her legs as she got into the car. Another line blurred. Linda thanked me again, and sure enough, as she less than gracefully swung one leg in, her skirt raised enough so that I could see the control top of her pantyhose, the meatiness of her thigh, and a glimpse of her crotch.

And this time for sure, she caught me. But she didn't let it go. Tilting her head to the side and squinting as if to say "I saw that" she brought her other leg quickly in and patted down her dress.

"I guess your mother-in-law just flashed you." She said sternly. Quietly, I shut the door and with a slight boner forming in my pants, walked slowly around the back of the car, trying to give myself time to recoup. I decided not to say anything in the car.

Driving down the road, I looked over and noticed Linda's legs again. The light fabric, though now pulled down, still showed above her knees. It was a nice view.

"Dinner was great, thank you."

"Well, you're welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed it." She responded. "Let's go home and I can make you one of my martinis. I don't know if it will be as good as the restaurants, but it will give us a chance to unwind and talk some more."

"Sounds good to me."

When we got to the house, I pulled into the garage and moved to get out of the car before Linda. My hope was to get the door for her again. Even though I had been caught looking, very much like a dog who risked getting beaten for stealing another scrap from the table, I was insufferable. But Linda, either because she really was on to me, or for some other reason, got out as quickly, robbing me of the chance of another nice panty view.

"You don't need to help me out of the car. I'm not an old lady." I thought that was an odd comment.

"I know you're not. I just thought it'd be polite."

"Mmmhmmm." She responded, her voice raising.

I opened the door to the house and let her go in first. I didn't get to see her get out of the car, but I watched her walk into the house, and I soaked in the view of her round bottom moving back and forth, up and down under her dress. And the sight of her meaty nylon covered calves, as they caught the light and dulled it ever so slightly, excited me enough that I again risked popping a boner. I felt under pressure to soak it all up, as I assumed Linda would head upstairs to change first, and I wanted to really enjoy these visuals so that later that night, when I went to bed, I'd have a nice vault of mental photos to jack off to.

Linda went straight to the liquor cabinet instead.

"Grab some ice and the jar of olives." She ordered. I complied.

"Here you go." I offered up the jar of olives.

"So here's how you do it." I watched as she poured the vodka, splashed the vermouth and the olive juice, and shook it all up. "I don't have any blue cheese, so plain olives will have to do. She handed me a drink. It was very strong, much stronger than the restaurants. The finish was almost acrid.

"Wow." I choked.

"Not quite as nice but they'll do the trick. Let's go sit down." She chuckled.

I sat down on a formal white chair across from Linda's matching sofa. Linda walked in, gently placed her drink on the glass coffee table, and then slid off her shoes. I could see the nylon hushed view of her red painted nails on her aggressively curved toes and arched feet. Always a foot man, I found the view very enticing and wondered if I was in trouble. Again, more movement in my pants. I had to stop looking. But then she delicately sat down on the couch, brought her feet up to the cushions with her legs under her, but in full view. She patted the cushion next to her. I was in trouble.

"Come sit over here, so you're not so far away."

"Ok." I picked up my drink and joined Linda on the couch. I took the opposite end of the couch and stole another look at her legs before looking at her full breasts and thinking to myself what a wonderful evening of jacking I was going to have. Martinis or no martinis.

"Well this is nice. I don't get to spend quality time like this with you. I love my daughter, but it's different when she's around."

"I know. I like this too. It's nice."

We proceeded to talk about politics and religion, the economy, everything but sports. Linda made us another round of martinis, and before long, both of us were slurring our words and at times, discussion was heated. But with the energetic volley of words and thoughts, and the multiple drinks and bathroom visits, I was treated to more wonderful views of my mother-in-law's legs and feet.

At one point, Linda shifted her position to make herself more comfortable, and her dress pulled up revealing another glorious view of her legs, right up to her control top and the cotton liner covering her pantyhosed crotch. I saw her underwear was silky dark blue or purple. My dick was immediately hard.

And she caught me looking. Really caught me. I pulled my eyes up from her crotch only to meet hers. It was on. There was no averting, no hiding the fact that I was staring at her crotch.

"Well you certainly got a good look, didn't you?" Her tone was stern and tempered with outrage.

"What?" Bye Bye Erection.

"You got a good look, didn't you?" She moved her eyes down on me, as if to shame as she spoke.

"I..I don't know." I could feel my face go flush, and perspiration broke out. I was embarrassed and of course, my mind raced to the near future when we'd be at the lake house with my wife. What quiet discussions would take place between Linda and Lisa, what stories of a perverted husband would be told? I felt a little sick. Why did a good thing always have to end so badly?

"Oh stop. It's no big deal. You probably can't help yourself."

"What?" I was speechless. I didn't know where she was going with this.

"You probably can't help it." There was a hint of arrogance in her voice.

"What do you mean?" And here it was. Coming down the pike. The phrase, the comment, the statement-of-fact-as-she-saw-it that would ultimately change both of our lives forever.

"You know, you're not so masculine."

"What did you just say?"

"You're not. You're not as masculine as you think."

"What does that mean?"

"You're just not that much of a take charge person. You think you are, but you're not," she slurred.

My previous shame turned to confusion, then a bit of rage. Comments like these were, for Linda, cute conversation starters. She liked to lure people in with kindness and drinks. Then, once in her web, she'd strike. She'd step over a line and test the limits of her company. I never did know why she did it. Maybe it was some sort of thrill for her. I knew she enjoyed watching people squirm. If ultimately, she had to apologize, she would. But while in the deep, when both sides were maneuvering, she was in her glory.

"Listen, this has been a great evening, but I'm going to head off to bed." I finished my drink and picked up the glass.

I figured I'd kill it where it started, go to bed, and if anything came up, I'd blame it on the alcohol. Lisa had enough of her mother that dismissing and discrediting what took place as her mother having too much to drink, would be very easy.

"Oh come on. I was just starting conversation." She finished her own drink and stood up clumsily.

"We already had conversation, we didn't need whatever that was."

I kept walking toward the kitchen. The whole back of the house was glass that allowed for a wonderful view of the city which sat at the bottom and then some distance of the hill on which the house was situated. The glass also offered a wonderful view of Linda following me, so I could monitor her actions without having her know I was watching.

"That was a statement of fact. I'm sorry if you can't handle it."

"Can't handle it? What? Some crazy statement meant to start a fight? What is it with you? Why do you feel the need to do that?" I'd known her long enough to know it was smart to keep her on the defensive. If you allowed her to advance, if you allowed her enough entry into your psyche, you'd end up questioning everything you were. Like my wife. So instead, I took it back to her.

"I wasn't trying to start a fight."

"Yes, you always do." I walked upstairs and she followed. I could hear her body brush against the stairway as she lost her balance.

"You're not going to get off that easy."

"Watch me." I passed her bedroom and continued to the guest bedroom where my bag was sitting on the floor. She followed.

"You think just because you're young and good looking and in good shape you're some sort of he-man or something, but you're not, you're not..." She was yelling and drunk and I could hear tears forming. She stood very close behind me. I could hear her breathing. I spun around to face her.

"So what? I'm some sort of young, good looking guy in good shape and I'm not very masculine. What the fuck does that mean Linda?" For a moment there was a standoff. Our eyes met and I could see she was searching for the meaning behind her own words. She was clearly drunk. Very drunk. I looked her up and down again, this time not caring. Who gives a shit. She was drunk. I was drunk. What was she going to say? Who would believe her?

And that's when it happened.

"You...you just don't take char..." I took an aggressive step forward and quickly grabbed her shoulders, rotated on my feet and threw her down to the bed. She gave out a bewildered cry and a grunt as she hit the bed. I moved my hand up to her head and cradled side of her face, the bottom of her jaw resting on my thumb, my other hand ran up her legs and slid a few inches up her dress which in and of itself was now hiked up way past her knees. My eyes met hers and I could see she was crazed, like an animal that had been cornered.

As if to regain control of the situation, Linda thrust her head forward and pushed her lips against mine. I parted my lips and her tongue slid in. I could taste the alcohol on her breath, and the smoke from the cigarette she had at dinner, I could also taste the smell of her perfume. Her mouth was so warm and yet, as I breathed in and slid my tongue over hers, met her passion with my own, it all felt so strangely alien. And wrong.

Linda grunted as our mouths and tongues fought for control. I pushed my groin and my rock hard erection into her pelvis. My hands pushed further up her dress, slid across the slippery silkiness of her pantyhose and felt the thickness of the control top, the ridge of her panties. I was feeling up my mother-in-law. I was tonguing my mother-in-law. My wife was 45 minutes away and her mother was tonguing me. Holy Shit!

We rolled 180 degrees, Linda was now on top, where she wanted to be all along. Her head was buried against my neck and she was now putting her tongue in my ear and sucking on my ear lobes. I pushed her up with my hands and pushed her dress up over her head, and as she disappeared under the maroon dress I saw the fullness of her legs, and her slight belly, and her beautiful breasts that were cradled by her thick bra.

She took her dress from my hands and continued with it over her head as I slid my hands under the cups of her bra, over her rock hard nipples. Her bra popped up and allowed me to squeeze her beautiful tits, nipples poking in between my fingers, dark areolas changing shape as I molded them. Linda groaned and then let out a desperate cry as if jumping off a cliff unable to save herself from a deadly plunge, a fateful decision that couldn't be taken back.

I rotated her over again, her breasts flopped over, the back of her head pushed down into the light tan and green comforter, the bed squeaking with our every move, our anger and our passion so loud that anything but an empty house would have revealed just how wrong what we were doing was. Together we ripped off my shirt, and then she lunged for my belt and undid my pants, I ran my tongue up the side of her neck to her ear where I smelled and tasted her perfume, the small drops she placed behind her ear each morning before heading out the door to work, a pungent burning dulled only by the sensation of putting my tongue into my mother-in-law's ear, and tasting the mellow softness of her canal. It was a sensation, much like kissing her, that brought another illicit sensation of being inside of her.

I struggled a bit as my pants fell to my ankles and I stepped out of them gazing upon the sight that was before me, Linda's full breasts, her thick thighs and the purple, definitely purple panties underneath her pantyhose, hiding a full bush that pressed outward against the fabric. I caught myself soaking it in, really and finally getting the good look she accused me of earlier, smiling triumphantly. I knew what I was doing, and I knew what I was about to do, and she knew it too. Her eyes were drunken and slightly defeated, but still wanting.My dick was poking out of the fly of my boxers. I saw her looking, dare I say, gazing longingly at it. I ran my fingers into the waistband of her pantyhose and pulled them down around her thighs, down her legs, past her calves, and down over her feet. Each inch I removed the delicate, stretchy undergarment brought the sensation of a different smell, an aromatic signature of what I was to soon experience firsthand, the gentle waft of fabric softener, a dollop of perfume, then the musky signature of her full bush and vagina, a hint of her big ass that had been kept within, the moisturizer she rubbed on her legs, down to the smoky desert of her calves that had floated back and forth all day, exposed to the environment, right to the sweaty sweetness of her feet, and though they had their time to air out from the confines of her work shoes, the pleasant candied tinge of her toes, so close to my face as I tugged on her nylons to free them, made me smile in anticipation.

Without hesitating, I grabbed the back of her left heel and stuck two of her toes in my mouth...salty, smooth. I ran my tongue over her nails and between her toes. I heard her gasp and then say:

"See?" She squinted, triumphantly. There I was, sucking her toes. I was servicing her.

I pulled her toes from my mouth and pushed her legs down to the bed as a response to her challenge. Again, she grunted as legs fell down and bounced back up, her thighs parting from the force, I could see her bush protruding from her purple panties. It called to me, I wanted it. But not yet.

I popped myself onto the bed, straddling her with my knees, forcibly grabbed the back of her head and as she let out a cry I pushed my dick into her mouth. It was warm, soft, so inviting but for the hardness of her teeth, above, below, and to both sides of my dick, a veiled threat, a porcelain guard daring me to step out of line and risk suffering unspeakable consequences. I'm a mere 6 inches, but I'm thick and I could feel her struggle with the girth, just like her daughter did. I heard her muffled cry and I pushed further in until she gagged. I could have come then and there, but not yet. It was too soon. I needed to savor this.

"See?" I declared as I triumphantly pulled my dick from her mouth, her saliva forming a string from the head of my cock to her lips, her eyes were glassy and teary from the strain. Who was servicing whom?

She licked her lips and I put it in again, she struggled for a moment, but only to handle the fullness of my dick, not the act itself which I could tell, she was enjoying. I moved back and forth probing her mouth and the back of her throat, pulling out every so often so she could catch her breath as she ran her tongue over the head. Then, unable to hold back any longer, I pushed in again, deep.

Her head pulled as far back as it could into the mattress in an attempt to accommodate the length and the force and avoid taking me any deeper into her throat. I heard her grunt and could feel her exhale through her nose onto my own pubic mound. I exploded into her throat with a core pulsation after violent cole pulsation, my torso shaking, my hands struggling to hold myself up as I erupted over and over, reveling in my orgasm, praying the perpetually fleeting ecstasy wouldn't end.

I heard her choke and felt her throat heave against the head of my dick, but the sensation was tempered by the feeling of her swallowing and then swallowing again. I pulled from her face and heard her give long exhale as she tried to catch herself. I looked down and there was a big chunk of white cum on the side of her mouth. She was oblivious to it. She looked me in the eye as if to ask if I was satisfied with what we had just done. All I could focus on was the lump of my cum on my mother-in-law's face, and what got it there. I took the head of my dick and slid it across her face, into the chunk of cum on her mouth and pushed it in. Realizing what it was, Linda took it to her tongue, rolled it once, and then swallowed.

Now I was satisfied.

I rolled off of her, to her right side. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her partial nakedness. To be honest, as great as it all was, I was a bit disappointed I didn't fuck her. Of course, I really did want to feel the inside of her, the inside of my mother-in-law. But as with anything, in the heat of the moment, it's a judgment call. I chose to make her swallow me instead. Of the possible violations, this one, short of fucking her ass, was an easy call.

I looked up at the ceiling, the brown blades of the ceiling fan, the white porcelain lights in the center, and though in the back of my mind I knew there would be some sort of reckoning, some uncomfortable discussion, I didn't want it to spoil the moment. The afterglow of sex and booze makes pushing the anxiety to the back of consciousness much easier than sexually frustrated sobriety.

I could hear her breathing, but she was motionless. And so was I. But that's when my moment was shattered by the full weight of her rolling over on top of me. She pushed down on my shoulders and ground her purple panty covered vagina onto my saliva soaked cock. She grabbed me by the neck and pushed up on my jaw.

"Now it's my turn you little fuck."

Jumping up she straddled my face and pushed her clitoris against my chin so hard I could barely open my mouth for fear of biting my tongue. She wriggled and writhed and then moved up a few inches so that her sweaty, hairy gash covered by the purple nylon was just over my lips. I could smell her vagina with an essence of urine as she rubbed it back and forth across my face yelling that it was her turn. Her bush, as it poked out from her panties was both soft and rough at the same time.

"My turn, my turn, my turn, it's my turn, my turn." She drunkenly howled.

I pushed with my chin against her vagina and reached out and grabbed her meaty ass cheeks from both sides. We struggled against each other, pushing, fighting. I tore at her panties and then managed to slide them halfway down her ass. She paused for a moment and took them off. We looked at each other, breathing heavily. Then we reached out to each other as if to find an accord in our mutual pleasure. And once again, she was on top, her now bare pussy fully spread on my mouth. I ran my tongue down the wet slide of her vagina into the tartness of her hole and slid it in to really taste everything that had gone on down between her legs, the sweat of her walking from office to office, the confinement of sitting, the encasement of the pantyhose, the tingle of the urine, the softness of her unkempt pubic hair, the creaminess of her own excited wetness.

As I explored her, she shuddered and shook and I could tell she was getting close to orgasm.

I ran my fingers down the crack of her ass into the deep folds of skin until I felt her asshole. Then I moved forward and stuck my tongue onto the dry puckered plane of little brown hole. It was musky and I could feel the delicate skin stretch against the tip of my tongue. She liked it. She liked the feeling of my fingers and my tongue stretching her asshole, tasting her asshole, probing her asshole. My nose moved around her vagina and she was so out of her mind, in that netherworld between erotic pleasure and the cliff of orgasm that I was afraid she'd break my nose if I didn't reposition. I moved back, removed my tongue from her asshole, and put it back in her pussy. But I left my fingers there at her ass, now wet with a combination of my saliva and her vaginal secretions, and slid my index finger into her anus.

She gasped again and shuddered, I pushed my finger further in, yet still carefully working her clitoris with my mouth. That's when her whole body tightened and she shook violently. I moved my right hand up to her breast and gently swirled my fingers around until giving a gently tug on her nipple. My index finger still in her asshole and I could feel her sphincter tighten around it, her heart beating and her little elastic band pulsating along with it. A gentle bath of her cum coated my tongue and pooled in my mouth enough that I was forced to swallow.

Then I pushed her off.

We quietly drifted off to sleep.

I was awakened by a harsh sunlight. A throbbing head. My naked mother-in-law, Linda, in my embrace. At some point we had made our way under the covers. My hands were full of her breasts. My nose was buried in her hair. My deflated penis was resting against her ass crack. We smelled of sex. I pulled my hand out from under her and rubbed my face. I could smell her sex and her ass on my fingers. Sex, dirtiness, confusion, guilt. It was all very surreal.

Linda took a deep breath. She rolled to her side and looked at me. As the previous night fell on her she rolled back over, shook her head, and rubbed her face as she pulled it all in. And so did I. I too thought of what we did to each other and as I replayed everything in my head, mounting her face, forcing my dick into her mouth, forcibly spraying my load into her throat, having her mount my face, coming in my mouth, me fingering her asshole...it made me hard.

I rolled over on top of her and thrust my dick into her hairy pussy.

"Wha...what the hell are you doing?" She yelled.

I pushed my dick all the way in to her vagina until I bottomed out and my balls were pressed against her ass cheeks. Her eyes got big and she grunted, she writhed a bit.

"Stop..." She struggled a bit but then relented.

"I'm finishing what we started. I'm fucking you." I thrusted over and over, and she met ever thrust with one of her own. By this point, I can't say we were totally sober, but we were no longer drunk. And that was important. I wanted to feel the inside of my mother-in-law, and more importantly, I wanted her to feel me, feel what I was capable of doing to her. I wanted her to experience this while we were both sober. More or less.

I continued to fuck her hairy pussy and I could feel her wetness coating my dick, a very sexy acceptance of what we were doing, welcoming me, encouraging me. I gave a final push and unloaded my first orgasm into her and she responded with an orgasm of her own. As it turned out, this was not my last orgasm of the day, but that's another story for another time.

For the moment, I laid there on top of her and listened to her breathing. I could feel my semen seeping past my cock, out of her vagina, onto us and the sheets. We quietly laid there until I pulled out. Without a word, she stood up, and I watched as she nakedly stumbled around and gathered one-by-one her dress, her panties, her bra, and her pantyhose. Then I smiled and watched her ass jiggle as she walked quietly from the room.So when we left off, I had just had the most interesting night of my life -- with my mother-in-law. I watched her gather her clothes and walk naked from her guest room, presumably to try to wash the previous night off of her body and out of her mind.

I sat back in bed, lightly stroked myself, and tried to devise a strategy moving forward. First and foremost, I couldn't afford to have my wife find out what happened. But more that that, I deduced Linda couldn't afford to have that happen either. I didn't rape Linda. She willing fucked my brains out. And though I was no child, she was the "adult" in the relationship. In other words, we both should have known better, but she really should have known better. The experience was potentially embarrassing for both of us. So I'd treat it as such.

We went about our business silently until it was time to leave for the lake house. We loaded our things into the car, we got in, and we left. About ten minutes later, after ten minutes of relative silence, broken only by the sound of the occasional turn signal and nearby traffic, Linda finally spoke.

"I feel awful." She grunted.

"About what?" I asked.

"Gee, I don't know." She deadpanned.

"Seriously, nothing happened. So let's just go about our day." I reached forward and turned on the radio. I didn't like the music that was playing, but it was better than awkward silence.

When we arrived at the lake house, we unloaded our stuff and went out to the back deck where the girls were sitting, enjoying drinks.

"Well look at you two!" One of the cousins shouted. My wife, Lisa, turned to greet us.

"Hey there." She smiled.

"Well hello," Linda greeted the girls. "It looks like you all are having fun."

I peered through the kitchen glass which then led to the main living area of the lake house. The entire house looked as though it had been well enjoyed by the visiting girls. From stem to stern it looked like a slumber party, with clothes, drinks, snacks, and beauty supplies strewn everywhere.

"We had a great time." Lisa responded.

"Mai TAI!" One of the cousins yelled.

"Mai Tai, Mai Tai, Mai Tai!" the rest of the girls chanted, some secret joke no doubt.

"Well a Mai Tai sounds good." I smiled.

"Really, well I think Mom could go for another martini..." Lisa chimed. I tensed as I awaited Linda's response, not sure if Lisa was just using prior knowledge of her mother to pick a suitable drink, or if she had some other information about the prior evening.

"Mai Tai or a martini, they both sound good to me." Linda smiled awkwardly without looking in my direction.

"Mom said you two had a heck of a night." Lisa exclaimed.

"Hmmm?" On the verge of breaking out into a cold sweat, my face lit up with tension. I raised an eyebrow and looked to Linda.

"Yeah, Mom told me how you two grabbed dinner and had a bunch of martinis. I didn't think you were the martini type." Lisa laughed.

"They were really good. Not as good as Linda's, you know, at the house. But they are good." I rolled with it.

"Well, I don't know how good my martinis were, but we sure enjoyed them." Linda smiled and nodded in my direction. "I could use some hair of the dog."

"The girls and I are headed to the store. Do you two need us to pick anything up for you?" Lisa asked. That's when I realized I was in the clear. Not only had she and Linda spoke, but Linda had already done the math and just told Lisa the minor details of what we did last night: Got dinner, drank some martinis, then went to bed.

"I could go with you girls..." Linda offered.

"There's already five of us, so I don't think we have enough room in the car Mom." Lisa replied.

"Oh, ok. That's fine. I'll stay here and straighten up." Linda said somewhat nervously, still avoiding any glances in my direction.

"Yeah, I'll help." I smiled and nodded towards Linda.

"It sounds like these two make great partners in crime." One of the cousins offered. Lisa smiled, grabbed her purse, and the 5 of them made haste up the hill to the driveway and to the car.

That left Linda and I home alone. Again.

So we slowly, quietly went about our job of cleaning up after the girls. Linda seemed really out of sorts. I breathed easier, confident we were in the clear and only had each other (and our guilt) to deal with.

Linda went off to the bedroom to put away a few things, and as she departed I took another look at her. She was wearing a white tank top that showed some nice cleavage, a light pink jacket, matching light pink shorts that were loose but just tight enough for me to see the outline of her panties, and flip flops that accentuated her feet and her pretty toes. Her hair was pulled up and she had a visor that framed her head.

As she disappeared into the bedroom, I went to the kitchen and found a pitcher of drinks the girls had made. I poured two and then went after Linda. When I entered the bedroom, she had taken off her jacket and her breasts were rather low in her top as she leaned over her bed and folded some clothes. Her room was pretty messy. Evidently the girl's party had spread into the bedroom where there was a hot tub overlooking the lake.

Linda looked up and paused as if to question what I was doing in her bedroom.

"Here, I brought you some hair of the dog." My hand outstretched, I offered her up the pink fruity rum drink in my hand. "Looks like you could use it."

Linda stopped what she was doing, put her hands on her shapely hips, and then took the drink. She gave it a sniff and then chugged it.

"Does that feel better?" I asked.

Without responding, she twirled the glass in her hands and stared into its emptiness.

"The house is pretty messy. Looks like they attacked your room too. I guess some folks don't know their bounds." I shook my head as I said it. That got her attention and she looked me in the eye.

"No, people don't know their bounds. And I feel horrible. Fucking horrible. What do you think?" She deadpanned and then pointed at me and then beyond me, as if into the past, miles away, back at her house. "That shouldn't have happened."

"But it did."

"But it shouldn't have."

"But it did" I declared.

With Linda, I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop. I knew both of her ex-husbands, and they both spoke of the shoe. You'd be in a comfortable place with her, then she'd lure you in, the shoe would drop and you'd have some sort of conflict with her. It was always better, they said, to keep her on the defensive. Keep her on the defensive or she'll eat you alive her first husband warned.

On the defensive, is exactly where I believed I had Linda. I reached over and took her hand.

"What are you doing?" She didn't pull away, but she was definitely not comfortable with the contact. She had lost control and that was something that made her uneasy. In her life, Linda thrived on being in control. She was in control of her company, and of her employees, and certainly of her daughter. But at this moment, and for the last twelve hours, she was completely out of control.

"It's ok." I consoled.

"No it isn't. You shouldn't be..." She tried to pull her hand away, but I pulled her close instead. She lost her balance and fell into my arms. "What are you doing?"

I put a hand up her shirt and felt her braless breast and another down her shorts, over her panties, and grabbed her ass. My theory was that I had full control, I was in charge, and I could use her, my mother-in-law, at my whim, because the last thing she wanted was for any of this to get out. What would she say? What would she do? What exactly were Linda's choices? Risk having her daughter know she fucked her husband? Multiple times? I didn't rape her. I didn't take advantage of her. I simply saw an opportunity. And I was beginning to believe the opportunity was much larger than I ever imagined. If this was a chess game, I just checked.

"No, I don't..." Linda protested. I pushed my face into hers, and squeezed more firmly on her breasts. Despite her resistance, I felt her nipple go hard in my hands and as I moved around from her ass to her vagina, I felt genuine wetness. "No."

I pushed her down on the bed and got on top of her. In my shorts I was rock hard again and I pushed it into her pelvis through our clothes. Though I felt her gasp, and could feel her resisting, I said nothing to explain my actions. Instead, I left my actions to speak for me. The fact was, she was going to get fucked again. By me. Her son-in-law. And maybe again after that.

"Stop..." Linda groaned. I rolled her over and ripped her shorts down past her ass, exposing her full backside and nice furry beaver poking out below. I took my left hand and ran it underneath her, once again fondling both of her breasts and her rock hard nipples before moving up to her throat. I used my right hand to pull my shorts down, expose my dick, and then thrust it into her pussy from behind. I could smell her wetness and the muskiness of her ass. Frankly, her ass called out to me and in its own way, begged for me to penetrate her rectally, but I resisted. Her pussy was so wet, and her fake struggles were so sexy, I knew I wasn't going to last long as it was.

I pushed into her as far as I could, the force moving her tighter against my hand which I now moved to her shoulders to push her down onto my cock. I could feel her gluteal mounds pushing back on me like two large cushions. Her ass shook back and forth, at times highlighting her cellulite and looking rather pock marked, while at other times, with the skin stretched by the fat, her ass looked smooth and fit. If nothing else, Linda was a real woman and a world apart from the five girls who had just left to go shopping.

I watched as my dick moved in and out of her, the bed rocking forward and back, Linda grunting with every thrust, my dick moist with her vaginal secretions, and an overall stench of sex and total acceptance permeating the air. I ran my hand from her face to her mouth, circled it with my index finger and then slid my finger past her lips until I could feel her tongue. She sucked my finger in and pushed it with her tongue to the roof of her mouth. I pushed my finger deeper until I could feel the beginning of her throat, then I moved my finger back and forth as if it were a dick. I heard her moan, her breathing quickened, and soon her body shuddered as she came.

I came too. I unloaded into her vagina and felt her snatch go awash with our fluids, and any friction was eliminated by the milky production of our passion. Moments later, coming down from the peak, there was nothing left but our heavy breathing and a very large wet spot on the comforter. Exhausted, I pulled my finger from her mouth, wiped it on the side of her cheek, and got off of her. Still breathing heavily, I pulled my shorts and underpants up. Remnants of my semen dripped onto my boxers, as I stared at her naked ass, and watched with satisfaction as my cum which had littered her thick snatch, continued to ooze down onto the bed.

Not yet ready for it to end, I leaned forward, took both of her fleshy, pink cheeks in my hands, squeezed and made a very satisfying:

"MmmmMmmmm."

Linda was panting, still exhausted from the fucking she had just received. I gave her a moment, took her glass and re-filled it with the remains of the pitcher. When I got back in the room, she had pulled her underpants and shorts back on. What a shame, I thought, as I handed her the glass.

"Here," I smiled.

She chugged her second glass of mai tai, turned from me, then quietly, cautiously walked on unsteady legs to the window that faced the lake, and stared out.

I returned to the kitchen and began washing some of the dishes that were left by the girls from the night before. As is so often after sex, I felt an urgency to urinate. I made my way across the house towards the bathroom. I peered to my left into Linda's room, past the partially closed door, but didn't see her. I continued on to the bathroom and stepped up to the toilet. To this day, I don't know why, but I didn't close the bathroom door. I can only explain that, at this point, I felt such a comfort level with Linda that I didn't really feel closing the door for privacy was necessary. The girls were gone and it was just Linda and I. So who would complain?

After lifting the lid, I aimed at the bowl and let loose a torrid stream of piss. I really had to go, and it felt so good to finally release. It was like being at a ballgame, in the john, after drinking a bunch of big beers.

As I reveled in the relief my piss was bringing, the splashing and the sloshing, and the contraction of my bladder, a hand came out from behind me, grabbed my dick and balls and squeezed them tight, like a vice grip. My piss splashed everywhere before ceasing altogether. What was once relief was extreme pain. The hand was Linda's with her red nails and fingers tensed around my cock in a death grip. I froze all movement and cried out in pain.

Linda's body pressed tight against me, I could feel her breasts push against my back and her breath on the back of my neck. I looked back down at her hand, which was now covered in my piss.

"Listen to me you little fucker. Never again."

I didn't respond, I could hardly breathe.

"Do you hear me?" She growled.

"Yes" I whispered.

"Never again. You ever try any of that shit, and I'll rip this off..." She tugged again at my jock.

Again, I didn't respond.

"I didn't hear you."

"I won't. Never again." I hissed. And with that she released her death grip on my cock, piss went everywhere, and I breathed a sigh of pained relief. Lynn shook her hand of my piss and departed for the kitchen.

Just then, I heard the front door open and the girl's voices. The tables had turned yet again, and any anxiety I had previously pushed aside was now in full force."Don't be rude, Mom made you a sandwich." Lisa scowled loudly enough that it caught the other girls' attention. They watched and waited for my reaction. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Linda looking on with satisfaction.

Lisa was right. Her mom had made me a sandwich. She made it right after she tried to squeeze the life out of me through my cock. We were standing at the toilet, and as she hissed her threat of bodily harm to me, I pissed on her hand. She then left me there to collect myself, while she made me a sandwich with her piss covered hands.

Nice touch.

So there I sat, out on the deck with my wife and her cousins, and her lunatic mother with a sandwich that stunk of piss. My piss.

"Linda, thanks for making this sandwich for me. Really." So this was her idea of revenge? This was how she wanted to play? How ugly would it get? Who else had to get hurt?

We were about to find out.

"Sure thing. Enjoy." She gave an evil smile.

"It's just that...when did you buy this meat?" I asked.

"I'm sorry?" Linda gave a mock puzzled look.

"No, I just...uh...I'm sorry, I'm sure it's fine." In a gamble, I slowly raised the sandwich to my face.

"Is there something wrong with the sandwich?" Lisa asked.

"Uhh, it's just that it smells." I put the sandwich back down on the white ceramic plate and gave my own mock puzzled look.

"Let me see." Lisa grabbed the plate with the sandwich and raised the entire thing to her face. "Oh my God. Mom, this sandwich smells horrible!"

Two of the girls giggled. Lisa gagged.

"Well I don't know what could be wrong. I just bought the meat the other day."

"Are you sure you didn't pull this from the freezer?" Lisa questioned then turned to the girls. "Mom is always stowing food in her freezer. Then she forgets about it and whips it out two years later and tries to serve it to us. Disgusting."

"No, thank you very much. That meat was fresh." Linda declared.

"Then you eat it." Lisa howled in laughter.

"I just might." Linda feigned sincerity.

Satisfied I had dodged a bullet, I grabbed a beer and walked out onto the dock and stared at the lake. I turned back and looked up at the lake house. I heard laughter. Lisa, Linda and the girls were apparently enjoying themselves, and for the first time in over a day, I was alone. Alone with my half-broken dick, alone with my thoughts, alone with my conscience. And all of it hurt.

How had everything gotten so out of control?

I went from a newlywed, supposedly loving husband, to some sort of animal who not only fucked his wife's mother, but was now caught up in a sick, sexual power war with my mother-in-law. In less than a day, my life had spun out of control and I was left to question everything I was and I everything I thought I was. The fact is, if you're of a certain persuasion, some things in life should never happen.

If you're a good doctor, you first do no harm. If you're a teacher, everything you do should ultimately be for the benefit of your student. If you're an honest man, you don't lie. And if you truly have hopes of being a family man, you're a loving, faithful husband. I thought I was that, a loving husband. But there I was, on a boat dock, overlooking a lake, with a beer and a head full of memories that told me I was anything but what I thought I was.

I should tell you now, what you already know. Lisa and I didn't make it. And thankfully, we never had any kids. We parted ways for so many valid reasons, but this nightmare with her mother never came to the surface. That being said, it did get worse...With that sandwich, Linda had issued a challenge, and I had to respond.

Pounding the rest of my beer, I turned and walked back up to the house. I found the girls, still out on the back deck, sharing drinks and laughing about God only knows what. Linda was with them, smiling politely as if to say "I get it, but I really don't get it." The generation gap between her and her daughter, and the cousins, was just too great.

I approached my wife and stood behind her. I placed my hands on her shoulders and gently rubbed. This subtle gesture never failed to get Lisa horny. It was a magical tool and something I truly loved about our relationship. Rubbing her shoulders was a sexual light switch. If I needed sex, all I had to do was rub Lisa's shoulders. It didn't matter where we were or what we were doing. I could be assured of sex within the hour if I simply took the time to rub her shoulders.

I never tested my theory, but I fully believed Lisa could be in grave danger, suffering unspeakable pain, and if I simply took the time to rub her shoulders, I'd be getting laid before anything else took place.

As I expected, Lisa looked up at me with a wanting look.

"We're going to run a quick errand." Lisa declared.

"Oh, where are you going?" One of the cousins asked.

"Just a quick errand. Nothing important. We'll be back in an hour."

"But we were just getting started. I thought we were going to put on our bathing suits, grab another drink, and float on the lake." Another cousin cried.

"Yep, we will. You girls go get started. We'll be right back."

It was as if Linda sensed something was up. She glared at me.

"Do you want me to come along?" Linda asked.

"Yeah, we can all go if you'd like." A cousin asked, forgetting about the limited space in the cars we had.

"There going to get busy," another of the cousins laughed, whose laughter was joined by the others.

"No, there's really not enough room for all of us," Lisa smiled devilishly. "We've got this handled. We'll be right back." With that Lisa got up from her chair, grabbed my hand and tried to lead me to the driveway.

I resisted.

"I'll be right there Honey. I need to grab something." I nodded towards the driveway and Lisa smiled.

"Ok, but we really have to go. Make it quick." Lisa urged, still smiling.

"Oh I will." I smiled back a devilish grin.

As I watched Lisa disappear around the corner and head for the driveway, I took a deep breath, walked over to where Linda was sitting, and leaned down to her ear. As a gentle wind blew I caught another dose of her essence, lotion, perfume, the feint odor of sex that only I would catch and understand what it was.

"You fucked up. Now someone else is going to have to get a taste." I turned and walked away, towards the driveway. In the kitchen window I saw Linda's reflection as my words sunk in. She quickly turned and glared at me. She was enraged.

I opened the car door and could smell a mixture of leather, alcohol, and my wife's perfume. Her long legs were invitingly spread out. Her sexy feet were propped up on the dashboard. So inviting. She gave me a big smile and cooed.

"I want your cock. It's been so long."

It had been long. It was a long drive. Then Lisa left for the lake house. Then...well, we know what happened after that.

"Yeah, you want it bad?" I drove the car down country road after country road trying to think of a good place for us to go where we could be left alone and just fuck.

"Hmmmm." She sighed.

"How bad?"

"Really, really, bad." She reached over and began massaging my balls and my cock through my shorts. As much as I was enjoying being touched, because of my confrontation with her mother, my dick was really sore. I caught myself wincing in pain, but couldn't let her see, because I wouldn't know how to explain why my dick was causing me so much discomfort.

"So, so bad." Lisa dug her fingers into the waistband of my shorts, then abruptly changed direction, pulled her fingers back out, grabbed my belt, and undid it before unzipping my fly. "Give me it now. I want you in my mouth."

Now this was a touchy situation, and another gamble. As soon as my fly was down, I could smell the remnants of the past twelve hours which basically amounted to her mother blowing me, and then me fucking her twice. In fact, less than two hours prior to this, my dick was in her mother and her mother's vagina was plastered all over my dick. My underwear was crusty with our dried up sex, a mixture of my semen, her cum, urine, ass sweat, and God only knows what else. And now, I was about to have my wife, her daughter, clean me up.

You might stop me here and point out how sick and twisted this is. And frankly, you'd be correct. It was sick and twisted, and it was a bit cruel to drag such an innocent into this battle, someone who clearly deserved better than what I was about to impose on her. I had fucked her mother, twice, and now I was going to allow her to taste her own mother's juices without her knowledge. And honestly, could it happen any other way. Could you foresee and circumstances by which someone would knowingly undertake what I was leading my wife to do. Of course not. And yet, here we were.

I had gone from bad to worse to downright depraved. But in war, there are casualties. And Lisa was about to become one.

"Oh Honey, you're a bit dirty down here...your cock is dirty." Lisa growled.

"It sure is, dirty for you." I growled back, doing my best to keep the car on the road.

"You want your dirty cock in my mouth?" Lisa asked.

"Yeah, stick my dirty cock into your filthy mouth." Lisa bent over the car's console and engulfed my dirty, sticky, smelly cock with her mouth. And need I say just how amazing it felt? For a dick that had been in and out her mother's pussy, with such a hard fucking, and then had been practically squeezed inside out, having Lisa's warm wet cherry lipped mouth moving up and down, her tongue licking the shaft and the head, gently sucking on my tip and then moving all the way down until her long tongue could flick my testicles, was pure undeserved heaven.

"Your filthy cock tastes so good." Lisa looked me in the eye and purred. I found a wooded area with a short dead end drive, hastily pulled in and slammed the gearshift forward into park. I leaned the seat back and let Lisa suck my dick some more.

Lisa sucked my dick for another couple of minutes before lifting her head back up and demanding me to fuck her. Nodding I pulled my shorts further down while she went to work pulling off her shorts and thong. Then she hopped over to the driver's side and rammed my dick into her sopping wet pussy. Her sweet, baby powdered tits brushing my face, her long blonde hair wafting across my cheeks, her ass in my hands, I was in heaven. Any soreness I felt before disappeared. And within seconds, I was shooting another load, this time into my wife's pussy. We writhed and ground into each other, our passion for each other still very much alive. I grabbed her by the back of the head, pulled her face close to mine and whispered into her ear

"I love you."

"I love you too..." she cooed.

I could tell she hadn't come yet, so while still holding her head close, I reached down with my hand and went to work gently, then vigorously massaging Lisa's clitoris. My fingers probed her young, silken gash, dipped into her satiny wetness, and rubbed her pea shaped nub of pleasure. I could feel her body stiffen and her breathing quicken until she went completely rigid and then shook violently before collapsing in my arms. Her body went limp but for her impassioned breathing.

We sat like that in the car, holding each other, reveling in our ecstasy until we both fell asleep. I don't know how long we were there like that, but it was long enough that the sun had shifted and the air had grown slightly cool. I had long since lost my erection and now my flaccid dick was just barely inside of her. She dismounted me, we put our clothes back on, and then headed back toward the lake house.

When we got back, we walked into the front door of the house. Through the kitchen window I could see the girls floating on the lake, drinks tucked in the rafts. Linda emerged from the bedroom in her bathing suit, still wearing her visor and flip flops. The bathing suit was a one piece that flattered her womanly shape. I could even see her full bush poking against the lower fabric between her legs. Despite anything that had transpired between the two of us, I still thought she was sexy. But even if she did want to fuck, I know I couldn't because for the first time in my life, I was truly, sexually spent.

"You two sure took awhile." Linda said to the two of us. She had a very serious look on her face.

"Yeah, we got a little caught up." Lisa's voice trailed off as she smiled at me.

"Yeah" I smiled devilishly, "we were a little busy."

Linda glared at me, then looked to Lisa who turned to us and said"

"I need to go brush my teeth." It was such an innocent comment that in any other situation would have been an inside joke between my wife and I. But Linda saw right through it and combined with my grin, knew exactly what had happened.

"You go do that. I'm going to get my suit on and I'll meet you outside." I called after her. Then I looked to Linda who honestly...I thought she was going to vomit.

"You.." She stumbled.

"Yes?"

Linda just shook her head and then ran outside to the deck where she actually did vomit.

"Are you feeling ok Linda?" I feigned concern.

Linda didn't respond, she only tightened her grip on the wooden railing. I of course, stared at her ass and wondered what it would be like to fuck it.