BigGuy33 has written a story about a family tradition that requires a man marrying into the family to spend the night before his wedding having sex with his future mother-in-law. ("Family Tradition," https://www.literotica.com/s/family-tradition-4 .) If you haven't read it, I suggest you do so now. The story ends on Henry's wedding day, and has an epilogue indicating that after years of faithful marriage, his wife Mary is about to fulfill the family tradition with their daughter Cassie's fiancé.
My tale takes place after BigGuy33's ends, but before his epilogue. If you find the premises of his story implausible, you will find my extension equally so: if that is an impediment to your enjoyment, you may as well stop now.
My thanks go to BigGuy33 for his permission and encouragement to write this continuation, and to BlackRandl1958 for her peerless insight and editorial skill, her patience as I learn a craft at which she is already proficient, and most of all, her friendship.
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Continuing a story by BigGuy33
Joe had assured me that his relationship with Agnes hadn't been hurt by their night together, and as far as I could tell, that was true. I hoped that would be the case for Millie and me. We'd gotten along well from the moment we met, much to Mary's delight. She was friendly and outgoing, had a great sense of humor, seemed devoted to Joe, and most important to me at the time, thought I was just the man for her daughter Mary. After our night together, it was time for the wedding and the honeymoon, and I had no time or wish to think of anyone except Mary. I didn't even spare a thought for Joe, the man whose wife I had fucked so thoroughly the night before, as he escorted my beautiful bride down the aisle.
After the honeymoon, though, I began to have second thoughts about what Millie and I had done. For one thing, she had shaved for me, even though she knew Joe didn't prefer her that way. This meant Joe would be physically reminded of Millie's adultery for, well, however long it took her pubic hair to grow back. I really had no idea how long that would be. When he did "whatever he felt necessary to make her his woman again," he would be doing it into a pussy that she had shaved for me. The thought made me uncomfortable.
I also remembered when we had parted, on my wedding morning. She had been visibly reluctant to leave my, or I should say Mary's and my, apartment. Of course, I'd been reluctant, too: fucking a hot woman had far more appeal than pacing the floor by myself, getting nervous about my wedding. It was more what she'd said: she would always treasure our time together, and would remember it fondly and forever. Really? Even while she was making love with Joe? I didn't like the sound of that. Of course I had wanted her to enjoy it, and had done my best to make sure she would, but this seemed a bit much.
Then, there was the in-laws' dance at the reception. I was all set to be the perfect gentleman, and show my new in-laws how much I truly respected them, even (especially) after the previous night. Millie and I danced close, but not too close, and I could see Joe doing the same with my mother, and Mary with my Dad. Joe even smiled and winked at me. As the dance was about to end, though, Millie pulled my head down to hers. "Thank you for one of the best nights of my life," she said. I barely got my head turned in time to make her kiss land on my cheek.
All in all, I was more than a little nervous when we had Joe and Millie over for dinner a couple of weeks after the honeymoon. Mary knew me very well even then, and she knew what was bothering me. "Don't worry, babe," she reassured me. "Mom loved it, and both Dad and I are glad you did it. Just relax. Everything will be fine."
Well, it was and it wasn't. There wasn't anything overt: nothing on the surface that I could point out. You know how you just get that feeling that someone's looking at you in a way they probably shouldn't? That's what I felt from Millie. Mary told me I was imagining things, but I knew I wasn't. She kept doing it, too: she would sit there next to Joe, holding his hand even, and meet my eye and smile that "just us" smile. She didn't do it when we were in public or with friends, but every time it was just the four of us, I could count on it. It made me uncomfortable, so much that after several visits with them I brought it up with Mary again. She still saw nothing to worry about.
"Look, Henry, she doesn't dress any differently than she did before we married; she doesn't hug you too long or touch you. Like this." She put her hand lightly on my forearm and leaned into me, delicately brushing a breast against my arm. She laughed at my instant boner. My beautiful wife could get me harder, faster, in more different ways, than I had ever imagined possible. She enjoyed doing it, too.
"Even if she were doing that, I wouldn't worry," she continued with her loving smile, "because I know you, and I know I can trust you completely."
I wasn't convinced. "Just watch her as if she weren't your mother," I asked her. "If you saw another woman looking at me like she does, what would you think?"
Joe and Millie had us over for a cookout a couple of days later, and Millie was still doing it. I couldn't tell whether Mary noticed or not. While we cleaned up after dinner, Joe seemed to want to talk to me about something. Before he could, Mary insisted that we had to go home right then and whisked us out the door. She said barely a word on the way home, but was clearly keyed up about something. I wondered what I'd done wrong. When we got in the door, she still said nothing, but propelled us into the bedroom where she proceeded to fuck me senseless.
She stood next to my chair as I finished breakfast the next morning. "Henry, love, I'm sorry about last night."
"I'm not," I answered with a smile, pulling her down onto my lap.
"Oh, not that," she giggled as she fell into my arms. "I meant for us to talk about Mom last night, but I sort of got carried away, and by the time we settled down, we were asleep. Henry, you totally blew me away last night." She gave me a soft kiss, and the tenderest, most loving smile you can imagine.
"That's funny. I thought it was the other way around: I could have sworn you fucked me senseless." We laughed and cuddled for a moment. How I loved this woman!
"I do want to talk about Mom, though. I saw what you're talking about, and I saw how uncomfortable it made you, but it's not what you're worrying about. She's not coming on to you." She paused.
"You rocked her world that night, Henry. She told me so. You knew from the beginning how happy I was that you and my parents loved each other. What you and Mom did that night came out of that love, added to it, and reinforced it. That's what the tradition is supposed to do. The look she's giving you is to thank you, to let you know it's okay, and remind you that she loves you, too.
"She knows it's making you uncomfortable, and she's sorry, but she can't help how she feels. If you hadn't loved her but just fucked her, or if you hadn't been so good, she wouldn't be looking at you that way. She hopes you'll get more comfortable, and so does Dad."
I thought a moment. "Yeah, I thought he wanted to talk with me about something last night, but you hustled us out of there pretty quickly. What was that all about?"
Mary smiled at me. "Henry, seeing how Mom looked at you reminded me how you did something you thought you could never do, and you did it because you love me. Then, I thought about how any woman in the world could look at you however she wanted, and you would still be true to me, because you love me. I was so overwhelmed with love for you, I just had to get us out of there right then and show you. Was that okay?"
The look on her face told me she knew damned well it as okay, but I told her anyway, of course. Then I returned to the topic at hand.
"Mary, it was just supposed to be one night, then everything goes back to where it was before, right? So shouldn't that look be reserved for your Dad? Does your Grandma look at him that way?"
Mary leaned back on my lap and thought for a moment. "No, I don't think Grandma looks at Dad the way Mom looks at you. Maybe she did back when I was too young to notice, I don't know. You've seen how comfortable they are around each other, though." I nodded; she was right.
"I think there are two things that are different between you and my Dad. One is, you're a better lover than Dad. Henry, you're so cute when you turn all red like that! Seriously, did you really think we women wouldn't talk about it? Grandma turned green with envy as Mom told her all about what you did. I just sat there like the cat that ate the canary, because I get you all the time, and Mom only had you for one night.
"The other thing that's different is you're the only man I've ever met to whom fidelity is as important as it is to me. From what Mom told me, Dad reached his decision to fuck Grandma pretty easily: his only real problem was the idea that Mom would be unfaithful to him later. He rationalized that it would only be once, and decided he was okay with it. You're different. I know that agreeing to spend the night with Mom was terribly hard for you, and that I almost lost you over it. I'm so glad I didn't! I'd have been heartbroken.
"That's why you're uncomfortable, Henry love. It's because you still feel you were unfaithful to me, and the way she looks at you reminds you of it. You weren't unfaithful: it was something you did out of love for me, that I all but forced you to do. We all love and respect you, Henry, especially me. I'm so lucky to have you! Can you just relax and accept and enjoy that?"
