Seasons Eatings

Hello you naughty girls and boys!

I realized too late I missed my opportunity for a good Halloween story this year, which means next year will have to be twice as special. I also may be too late for one of my larger Christmas Holiday stories. But I can at least tempt you with the beginnings of another holiday tale.

Richard's mother-in-law has come to visit and she wastes no time putting him in his proper place. Let's take a peek.

*****

I went to see who was at the door but my wife was already there. I didn't think we were expecting anyone but when her mother stepped through the door all the color drained from my face. Reflexively my tongue rolled around in my mouth as though I was already trying to relieve the cramps from hours of service.

"Don't you worry Dear, we'll have plenty of time to catch up. But now the trip has taken its toll and I need some time to relax. Where's Richard?"

I wished I was somewhere else but it was already too late. A mad dash from the hallway would have only led to a lot more trouble. I had to clear my throat; just her presence in the house was already choking me.

"I'm here Mother."

"Richard..."

"Sorry. I'm here Mommy Dearest. What can I do for you?"

My wife might call it a joke but I didn't think it was funny. One night Sylvia, her mother, said I should call her Mommy Dearest and I didn't think it was funny then, but I didn't think it would last. I was wrong. She has since made a point of making me refer to her in that manner. I had briefly forgotten; but she was quick to remind me.

"Well you'll need to bring in my bags at some point and you can arrange for our dinner this evening, but right now I need you to follow me to my room."

"Yes Mommy Dearest."

Did my wife tell her mother that maybe it was time to drop the 'Mommy Dearest' joke? Did my wife step in to say that I would be glad to bring in the bags but that I might be busy at that moment with something else? Did she do anything to save me from what she knew was coming? No. No, she did not. Instead she just smiled and chuckled as I stepped back to let her mother past and then obediently followed her to the guest room; her room.

It really was her room. According to layout and marketing it was the guest room, but my mother-in-law had quickly taken it over as her own. She wasn't there all year long, thank God, but she demanded it be kept solely for her. We weren't to use it for other guests. People never really stayed over with us, but it was just another way to exert her authority.

Of course she wasn't really exerting her authority over her daughter, my wife, she was exerting it over me. Beth was fine with the room being dedicated to her mother and if they had any disagreement about it I'm sure they would have worked it out before Sylvia made her decision. Did I mention that I'm the one responsible for keeping the room clean and prepared?

It was like a private hotel for just one person and I was the hotel staff responsible for pleasing a finicky guest. The bed sheets were part of the laundry I did. Every week fresh sheets, whether she had plans to visit or not. I also did the vacuuming and dusting and since there was an attached guest bath, I also cleaned that every week.

And as soon as she stepped inside her room she took a finger to the chair rail. She was already checking my work for dust. I was certain there wasn't anything to find but she rubbed her fingertips together as if removing any traces of the dust she found. She then looked around the room with a critical eye.

"Hmmpf. Smells a little stale in here. Maybe it just needs some fresh cut flowers. It'll have to do for now."

Right. It needed fresh cut flowers. Probably needed a new coat of paint in a different color and new furniture. I wasn't going to make a comment though. I was afraid if I did I would be adding a trip to the florist every week, just to keep her room ready. Instead I just kept quiet with a neutral face.

She then stepped casually over to the side of the bed. She touched one of the pillows and moved it slightly. Whether she was truly trying to fix its position or if it was a subconscious act of hers always trying to correct others I'll never know. She took a last look around and gave a heavy sigh as she dropped her purse on the floor next to the night stand.

"So Ricky, have you been taking good care of my daughter?"

"Yes Mommy Dearest, I have been taking very good care of her. She means the world to me."

"Hmmpf, well she and I will discuss your behavior. It had better be up to snuff."

Then without further ado, she began to unbutton her blouse. I stood with my head barely lowered as well as my eyes. I wasn't to stare at her at any time but I knew I wasn't supposed to be looking at the floor either. She wanted me to watch.

Underneath she wore a sleeveless stretch lace top in place of a bra and I wondered at the lack of true support. Her breasts were full and well-formed and I couldn't imagine how she kept them so alive and buoyant over the years without a little help. But it wasn't my place to question, so I simply took in the floral lace pattern, noting the perfection of her breasts behind them, and waited.

"Here, take this."

She handed me her blouse and then proceeded to remove her wide belt. After handing me the belt, she unzipped her skirt and shimmied out of it, letting it fall to the floor. The skirt off, I could now see her black panties as well as her garter belt, holding up her black stockings.

It occurs to me that I should probably give you a description of her looks. She's blonde. To some degree I know it's natural but I'm also sure she gets her hair done at no small expense and there is likely some coloring or highlights going on if I had to guess.

She is in her 50s. Some days she looks younger and some days she looks older. She could be a grandmother but she isn't. I think she tends to wear too much makeup. Penciled eyebrows and bright red lipstick are standard. And jewelry. She always wears jewelry of some sort. Today she's wearing a pearl necklace composed of several strands, and she has large dangle earrings made of silver and a matching bracelet, as well as several rings.

Physically she has a body to be proud of. I'm sure there are even some twenty-year-olds jealous of what she's got. Large, full breasts that don't look fake or too large. Full, round hips and ass that has just a little extra; again not too much. And then there are her legs. She has legs and feet that can be used to model, and apparently have modeled in her younger days.

And now here stands this attractive woman in her underwear. And with each piece of clothing she removed it's like she was breaking down my will. As I gazed upon her body I could feel my resistance melting away.

"Pick that up for me."

She was referring to her skirt, still pooled around her ankles. I lowered myself almost to one knee and reached for the skirt. As she raised her foot to step out of the skirt she brushed my cheek with her stocking-clad calf. Of course I said nothing. Then she stepped out of the skirt completely and I stood up with it.

"Leave those by the door; you can take them when I'm finished with you."

I carefully dropped her blouse, belt, and skirt on the floor near the door. When I turned back around she was standing with her feet shoulder-width apart and her hands on her hips. The image looked like an old movie poster or the cover for a pulp fiction. Then she pointed at my feet.

"On your knees."

There was no point in resisting and I don't know if I could had I wanted to. I simply dropped down onto my knees as ordered and waited for her next command. I didn't have to wait long.

"Come here."

I shuffled the short distance on my knees until I was directly in front of her. Then I sat back on my heels. My eyes were level with her black panties and I knew this was what she wanted. She took a small step forward, bringing her panties to within an inch of my nose.

"Do you like my panties Ricky?"

"Yes Mommy Dearest."

They were black panties and no doubt expensive given her tastes. The top was a shiny and slick material, maybe satin or silk, but going lower to the vee of the crotch, they became a transparent, breathable mesh. So I could already see her soft pussy lips right in front of my face.

"Since you like them so much, why don't you give them a kiss."

"Yes Mommy Dearest."

I knew what was happening but I was powerless to stop it. This woman constantly made my life miserable. To call her a thorn in my side would be offensive to the thorn. And yet here I was on my knees, unable to resist her. And not only was my resistance all but gone, it was replaced with an undeniable craving. At that moment if she had set me free it would have been a punishment.

So slowly and with reverence I leaned in and put my lips to hers, separated only by the thin veil of material. Our lips met and I tasted her. I knew I would taste more of her soon but this was just a kiss and I had to let it end.

"Hmm, I think the panties aren't the only thing you like. Maybe we should take them off. But first you'll need to unclip my garters. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes Mommy Dearest."

Slowly I raised my hands to the first clip. I knew this wasn't something to be rushed. But then I couldn't keep her waiting either. I had to find the right gentle pace. As I slipped my fingers behind the garter I felt the soft skin of her thigh. Carefully I unhooked the stocking.

I then reached one hand around and the other between her legs to find the garter at the back. I relished the skin to skin contact on the back of my thumb as I worked to unhook the stocking completely. Slowly I brought my hand back through her legs to reach the other garter in front. In mirrored motions I unhooked those garters as well, now allowing for her panties to be slid down over her stockings and off her legs.

"I think it's time for you to remove my panties. But first I think you should give them a kiss goodbye."

"Yes Mommy Dearest."

Another gentle kiss, wetter than the first. And then my hands came up to her waist as I carefully hooked my fingers into the waistband. Slowly I pulled them down and took a deep breath in. As I lowered them to her ankles she stepped her feet together and then stepped out of them.

"I'll take those."

She then took the panties from me and placed them on the nightstand. At first I followed the panties, but then as she turned back around I was looking at her bare pussy. Her lips weren't as tight as in her youth, but that only made them softer.

"So Ricky, are you currently locked?"

I knew she was referring to my penis. She was asking me whether I was currently in a chastity device. I was thankful that my wife often let me out and left me unconfined as long as I was well behaved, but I knew that Sylvia would be disappointed. Still there was no use in lying to her.

"No Mommy Dearest, I am not locked up today."

"My daughter does have a soft spot for you. That's something else we will have to discuss. No matter, as I come prepared. You will find a purifier in my purse. Strip off your clothes and put it on."

"Yes Mommy Dearest."

As I reached for her purse she sat on the edge of the bed and removed her heels. The purifier was easy to find. She called it that because of how it was meant to keep me pure and not prone to masturbation. In my experience it didn't make me pure but rather heightened my lust as I had no means to relieve the building sexual tension.

Having pulled the device from her purse I began to get undressed. I carefully placed my shoes next to her clothes by the door and then as I removed the rest I carefully tossed them into a stack on my shoes. Once nude I began the process of attaching the purifier.

I was familiar with such devices so it didn't take me long to figure out how to wear this one. What was a bit more difficult was getting my dick to relax enough to be put inside it. I actually had to pinch myself a couple of times to get enough shrinkage to force it inside.

While I was getting undressed and putting on the chastity cage Sylvia reattached her garters and was getting comfortable on the bed. Her bed had a high, padded headboard and she was arranging the pillows around her for comfort. She looked regal, like a queen on her throne.

"Now Ricky it's been a long day and I'm tired. What do you think you should do for me?"

"I think I should lick your pussy Mommy Dearest."

"For how long?"

"Until you tell me to stop Mommy Dearest."

"But what if I should fall asleep?"

"Then I should continue licking your pussy until you awake Mommy Dearest."

"Sounds like you know what to do Ricky. Now get busy."

"Yes Mommy Dearest."

And with that I lay between my mother-in-law's legs and began to lick her tired pussy. It wasn't fresh from the shower; it was stale and sweaty from a long day of travel. But it didn't matter. I didn't get to decide when and how to serve her; she made all those decisions. My job was to obey.

As I lay there licking her pussy I wondered how long she was planning to stay with us.