I particularly enjoy when my mother-in-law visits. Between her and my wife, they provide me abundant opportunities to provide services to women, which is the highest ambition of my life. I drive them around shopping at various food and household stores. At each stop, my dear wife reminds me to stay in exactly the parking space she designates and not to ogle the gorgeous Polish women entering and exiting from the store. The first order is easy to carry out. The second, not so easy. This is especially so because I am deprived of sexual release for weeks and sometimes months, rendering me terribly horny.
On one occasion, I was so distracted by the sight of a beautiful, statuesque redhead who loaded her groceries into the trunk of her car which was parked to my left. As I stared out the driver's side window, my wife and her mother approached the car from my right, arms loaded with packages, without my awareness. I only became aware of their arrival when my wife began to rap on the passenger door window with one hand while juggling her bag of purchases with the other. Startled into awareness, I gaped in her direction apologetically, then realized that the doors were locked. I popped the locks, but the two women stood in place by the passenger side without moving as angry expressions spread over their faces. I knew that I must hop out of the car and open the doors for them as well as take the burdens of shopping bags from each and set them down on the floor of the car.
"Careful!" my wife snapped sharply as I placed a bag of groceries on the floor of the back compartment.
"Look what you're doing!" exclaimed her mother in harsh tones as an apple spilled out of one bag as I placed it on the floor.
"Not there!" said my wife impatiently. "My mother has to sit there! Place the bags on the other side. I reached across the rear compartment trying to reposition the bag from the passenger side to the place behind the driver's seat.
"You can't do it that way," she said with exasperation. "Take the bag out, go around to the other side of the car and place it down properly."
Both women seated themselves, my wife in front, her mother in back. Both seemed peeved at my performance.
"Just what were you doing so that you didn't see us next to the car?" Her Imperial Majesty asked. "I know what you were doing. Didn't I tell you not to stare at women in the parking lot and to wait patiently for us to return? And shouldn't you have been paying attention? Shouldn't you have gotten out to help us with our packages without our having to call your attention by knocking on the window?"
Each humiliating criticism reminded me of the high station that women occupied and the inadequacy of male efforts to give them their deserved honor. My admiration for Woman soared to greater heights when I fully grasped the significance of their superiority. I was filled with desire to make amends by offering greater servitude at the next opportunity. I started the car and drove back to our home. My angelic wife stood beside the car with arms folded as I started to unload the car. She followed me into the house, pointing here and there to indicate where I should place each bag of merchandise.
"Now make us each a cup of tea," she commanded, and when you have done so, set them on the table and get on your knees by the table."
I stood by the stove, heating the water in preparation for the tea I was to serve the when I felt a severe, sharp pain in my behind. My wife had quietly risen from her chair and smacked my ass with a wooden spoon.
"That'll teach you to stare at women in the parking lot when you should be attending to me and my mother!" Then she handed the spoon to her mother. "Here mother, you take a turn."
Her mother rose from her seated and took the wooden spoon from my wife. Swinging the spoon from far back, she landed it on my rear which gave me a jolt of pain.
"Pay attention to your wife!" she exclaimed. "You're lucky to have a for a wife." Then she sat down.
