Mother In Law Knows Most

You'll notice that i've slightly altered the title used for this story, form the one below, but that's only because there's one already published using the title i have actually used. It's bloody good too, i have it on my list of favourites. But this one isn't based upon that one at all, very good though that is. But this is ALL my own work.

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MOTHER ( IN LAW ) KNOWS BEST!

Do you know what? Right now, I'm in a very good place, yes life's rather good right at this precise moment in time. A moment that has been building for some time now, several years in fact, it could be said. And, it must also be noted, things didn't arrive at this delicious point because of any real efforts on my part. No, we were here because of the determination of my female partner, it was because of her, and not me that to be honest had resulted in this glorious situation. And, with supreme irony, the day within which this entire process that had kickstarted our arrival at this delightful point of time, had seemed so disastrous, so much so that, certainly at the time, I considered it to have been the worst day of my entire life!

A day that had started in such a normal manner. As usual on a working day, a Friday in fact, the alarm clock went off, as usual at six o'clock in the morning. Having switched it off, rolling over again, ready to wait ten minutes until the 'snooze' call would be emitted and I really would have to rise out of the bed. Turning I saw my lovely wife, Joanna, in bed with me, still fast asleep, and I knew that I didn't have to wake her. So, once the snooze call came, I succeeded in rising without disturbing her.

Looking at her beautiful body, still within the state of slumber, I fondly recalled the events of last evening, when within this very bed, we'd made love. Nothing frantic and passionate at all, just gentle caressing and bonding, but still very romantic and fulfilling. After all, Joanna wasn't one for full blown sex it seemed, I'll admit that occasionally I did want some 'fast action' as it were, but I'd long come to accept that it wasn't her style. I was far more interested in loving her for what she was, rather than worry about just what she wasn't.

Her extremely high level of intelligence, unlike me she'd been to university and obtained a degree, had enabled her to gain for herself an executive position within a large and highly successful company, so she was earning top money, far more than the engineering role that was my own employment. So, this house, together with much of the furniture, included the aforementioned bed, and her flash motor were all of the result of her input rather than mine, to be honest. However, Joanna had never 'rubbed my nose in it' at all in any way. As I dressed to go to work, although this would be the very last time I did so, I would later discover, I truly believed that I was very lucky in life, with a gorgeous wife who truly loved me.

It was when I reached my place of work, that things began to very much unravel. For when I tried to log on to my account, to check for e-mails etc. on the P.C. at my bench, I was rather surprised to see some sort of message like, 'This Account is no longer valid,' can't remember the exact wording though. Never mind, it's probably just on the blink, I'll get I.T. to take a look thought I.

But when the working day officially started at eight o'clock, I was to become aware that this message wasn't any sort of malfunction of the machine at all. For suddenly Jeremy Taylor, one of the two brothers who now owned and ran the company, following the death of their father who'd founded it, called me into his office. He was very sorry, he began, but business hadn't been good recently, and cutbacks would need to be implemented. As he handed me a letter, the formal notice of the termination of my employment, I was being made redundant.

Not that he explained why. Basically, there were two major reasons for that, as I well knew. One was that I hadn't been working there long, his father had taken me on just over two years ago now. Which meant I did qualify for redundancy pay, but only just, and it was only quite a small amount.

However, I knew that wasn't the REAL reason. For whilst their father had been shrewd, clever and the company highly successful, that general level of business 'nous' hadn't been inherited by his sons. They thought that, even at their young and inexperienced age, they 'knew it all,' although they clearly didn't. And I'd tried my best to help them, but instead of seeing my advice for just what it was, an attempt to guide and assist, they, especially Jeremy, had come to consider me as a troublemaker. Therefore, when their accountants had advised that they needed to trim the workforce, and of course, the wage bill, Jeremy had taken full advantage of the opportunity to get rid of me.

Not that this, 'trimming of the fat' did them any good of course. With their attitude being the source of their problems and them refusing to see that, within a year of me leaving, the company that their dad had made so successful was gone, busted into bankruptcy. But this was no concern of mine, by then.

Having collected all of my tools and personal belongings, Jeremy then escorted me out of the building and to my car. Although he then immediately re-entered said factory and didn't try to stop me simply sitting in my car, now technically parked illegally as I was no longer an employee, within the company car park. For I was so stunned that it was a few minutes before I could gather myself together enough to be able to drive home.

Where of course, I wasn't expected to be at that hour of the day. When I reached my home, I noticed a brand new, top of the range, Mercedes Benz packed next to Joanna's own, slightly smaller vehicle, also manufactured by the German car maker. Ah, that'll be Michael Sinclair, Joanna's boss, I thought. She had informed me that she'd be working from home today, and it was quite possible that Mr Sinclair would be popping in sometime, so I wasn't worried at all. In fact, I looked forward to meeting him at last, although I did regret the circumstances that had rendered such a greeting possible.

I entered the house as quietly as I could, not wanting to surprise them too much. as I have said I wouldn't be expected and didn't call out at all. It was then I received my second major surprise of the day. It was quite clear from the noises that I could then hear, that the two of them were in our bedroom and not her study/office. And judging by said sounds, although engaged in quite strenuous physical activity, it wasn't of the form that would generate a profit for their company!

Returned to a state of complete shock again, I stealthily climbed the stairs, and as I reached the bedroom door, I took out my 'phone, switching it to camera mode, I wanted actual evidence. Which I suppose you could say that I got, as I burst into the room, and took a quick snap of the situation within.

So, just what picture did my 'phone capture? One that immediately made me feel quite sick, and also absolutely green with envy! For, believe me, it was a situation that I fervently had hoped would have occurred in my own life, but instead of me simply replacing Sinclair, what I dreamed of was Joanna being in the position he occupied, whereas I would be just where she was located.

Ok, so let me describe just what I saw, ignoring the presence of her boss for one moment. Starting at the head of the bed, which was in the form of a solid, metal, lattice style headboard. With outer bed posts, to which Joanna's wrists and hands had been securely tied. Moving down the bed to her head, upon that and over her eyes a satin blindfold had been placed, taking the possibility of any power of sight from her. She was topless, as we move down to her waist, where a very sexy and lacy satin suspender belt, one I'd never seen before, was located.

And just what do said belts suspend? Covering her lovely, shapely legs, was a pair of very sheer, classy nylon stockings, again items I couldn't recall having seen her wearing for quite some time, with her often informing me that a successful marriage shouldn't need the presence of lingerie within it to work. Oh, and her ankles also had bondage ties surrounding them, the other end of which were secured to the outer posts of the equally solid lower bed frame.

I've absolutely no idea as to why I then said just what I did, possibly the sheer shock of what confronted me. For I suddenly burst out with, "blimey, it's no wonder that this 'working from home' malarky has become so popular!"

To which Sinclair immediately lifted his head from my wife's lips, which he had been kissing passionately, almost screaming, "who the hell are you?"

Whilst Joanna couldn't see me, she'd obviously heard and recognised my voice, so it was her rather than me who responded to his enquiry. "It's my husband, Mike. I think that you need to get dressed and leave. Steve and I obviously need to talk."

Sinclair, although he did rise from her and the bed wasn't in the mood to agree to her suggestion though. "I'm not going anywhere, Darling. How do I know that he won't smash your face in?"

I walked right up to him, almost pushing my face into his as I responded. "Violence isn't really my style, 'Mike.' Although if I am going to, how did you put it, 'smash a face in,' make absolutely NO mistake about this, it will be YOURS and not my wife's." Giving him the sort of glare that almost made him fear that I was going to do precisely that, right here and now. Please bear in mind that I am far bigger and stronger than him.

Cue Joanna's voice again, very loudly. "GET ME UNTIED FROM THIS BED! NOW!" It was almost funny how, given the situation, Sinclair and I responded to this, basically working as a team, him taking care of her left-hand side, while I untied her right-hand limbs. Once free, Joanna ripped the blindfold off, before immediately rushing to, grabbing hold of and covering herself inside of a dressing gown. "Please Mike, I KNOW that I'm in no danger of any physical violence. Please, just go." And he did, dressing himself, and then, escorted by me, a journey during which no conversation occurred at all, leaving the house via the front door, which I had the courtesy to hold open for him.

Turning around after shutting the door, I saw Joanna descending the stairs, and I noticed that she'd removed the stockings and presumably the suspender belt too, from her body. How appropriate, I thought to myself, if was almost as if their 'appearance' for Mike's benefit of course, was immediately terminated now she was alone with just me. After all, hadn't I been instructed, on many an occasion, just how stockings and suspenders weren't required in a happy marriage? Pointing to the living room, she simply suggested, "shall we?"

Having entered, sitting for the first time in ages, on opposite pieces of furniture, I commenced the conversation. "Well, it looks like I've not only just been made redundant from my, now previous, employment as an engineer, but from my role as a husband too?"

"Steve," she began, "I'm SO sorry that you had to find out this way!"

"Really? I mean does the manner of how I discovered what you two have been up to all of this time count? Just how were you going to tell me then?"

"Not like this, that's for sure. Nothing that's happened today has changed my firm opinion of you. That you are a thoroughly decent and honest man, who has been a fantastic husband towards me." Here it comes, I thought. "It's not your fault that we haven't worked out, but mine." Yes, so bloody predictable!

"Oh, yes? So, I've been, how did you put it, a 'fantastic' husband, have I? What, so good that you needed Sinclair in your bed? And to do to you just what I've been hinting for so long that I wanted you to do to me. And, what's with the stocking and suspenders, eh? Why did you feel that you needed them with Sinclair, when you've been harping on for some long that a successful relationship doesn't need lingerie within in?

Her face looked hurt, but then why did she deserve sympathy? "Please, Steve, don't be like this! Do you really need to be?"

For the first time in a very long period, I lost my temper. "HOW FUCKING DARE YOU? You betray me, with me finding you right in the middle of shagging your boss, and you have the nerve, the absolute effrontery, to tell ME how to behave? And you can stop the waterworks!" Because, again utterly predictably, Joanna had started to cry. The sight of which did cause me to calm down somewhat.

"Look, Joanna, I do apologise for losing my temper back then. I accept that I shouldn't have shouted at you like that. But, well, what happens now? It's utterly clear to me that our marriage is over, it's dead in the water. Those stockings told me all I need to know, it's Sinclair that you want in your bed and life now, not me. Hang on, didn't you once tell me he's married himself. So, it's not just me that the pair of you are ratting on here, but his wife too! Have you NO shame?"

Joanna responded by just hanging her head, obviously she was ashamed with the situation. And therefore, having 'inserted the knife' as it were, I felt it the right time to give it a little 'twist' as it were. "So, with our marriage dead, and clearly his too, I guess that you want him to live here, with you then? Which is all 'fine and dandy,' of course but just where does that leave me? Where am I going to rest my head?" To quote that Paul Young song from about forty years ago now, "wherever I lay my hat? Remember, I've no job now."

Joanna seemed to consider my question, and to be fair to her, she had no intention of making me homeless. And then her eyes seemed to brighten as her mind obviously found a solution to this conundrum, one clearly acceptable to her anyway.

"You could go and live with somebody else. Somebody who I know really likes you, taking a shine to you from the moment that you two first met each other. And I also know would be utterly delighted if you were to move in with her." With my, if not for much longer it seemed, wife actually smiling as she then uttered her next word.

"MOTHER."

I told myself that I supposed it could be a possible answer, but I had real reservations about such a move. But before I explain just why, and what my problem with her was, Ladies and Gentlemen, please allow me to outline why I couldn't turn to my own parents for both solace and somewhere to live. Simple really, they were both dead. You see, my father believed that he was Britain's answer to Sebastian Vettel (this event I'm just about to describe occurring before Max Verstappen came to prominence,) notwithstanding the fact that the now, SIR Lewis Hamilton had already taken on that role so successfully. But no, not only did dad believe he could really drive, but he was also under the impression that he could do so having consumed a large amount of really strong beer.

Which, of course he couldn't, which I'm sure comes as no surprise to any of you. But here is the really tragic part. His drinking had taken place in a rather remote country pub, and the crash that resulted from it occurred on an equally remote country lane. And so, the wreckage of his car, a soft top sports model, wasn't found until the next morning, by a dog out on a morning walk with its owner. Whilst the impact had killed him immediately, it hadn't done so to my mother. Who, quite simply, unable to climb out of the stricken vehicle, bled to death from her injuries, with the postmortem suggesting that she'd been alive and fully conscious as she did so. No, I will NEVER forgive him for that.

Not to mention that his recklessness here rendered his life assurance policy invalid, they rightfully adjudged that he'd effectively illegally caused his own death, so refused to pay out. And with the house they lived in being mortgaged to the absolute limit, it meant that I inherited almost nothing.

And although Joanna and I shared something here, we had both lost our fathers, the circumstances of their respective deaths couldn't have been more different. Whereas, and to be perfectly blunt, dad had killed himself, and obviously mum too, Walter Robertson had died because of someone else's error of judgement. Meaning that his life assurance fully paid out, and together with a substantial compensation package resulting from the guilty parties' insurers.

Meaning that, and here was the other major difference, Mrs Deirdre Robertson was still very much alive, and now living within a very advantageous financial position in life, being mortgage free, and having set up a trust fund that would ensure that she'd never have to work again, or ever have to worry about just where next meal would be coming from. And yes, as far as money was concerned, fully able to support the now jobless me.

Joanna was a stunningly sexy Lady, absolutely gorgeous, and it was perfectly clear to anybody who met Deirdre just where those good looks had come from. Despite rapidly approaching fifty years of age, Joanna's mother still possessed sex appeal in spades. And here was my problem with her, since the death of her husband, basically she'd set her sights on me replacing him to satisfy her sexual needs.

Now if Joanna and her mother shared the same stunning looks, their attitudes to sex were almost opposite to each other. Joanna was quite submissive, to her sex was something that her partner could and should initiate and drive on. Whereas her mother was one who liked to dominate within the bedroom. Me? Well, I was far too similar to my wife, which is why, I guess that our sex life was so low key. While both of us would respond to any 'request' for passionate sex, neither of us could actually start the process ourselves. Well, it seemed that Sinclair could and did precisely that for Joanna, so could the lovely Deirdre do so for me? But more to the point, did I want her to? Not really.

Now, all of the time when I was married to her daughter, actively married I mean, I had the perfect excuse to refuse her sexual charms. Did she really expect me to cheat upon her own daughter? Naturally not. But now, with my marriage to Joanna effectively over, how could I refuse her now? Especially if I was beholden to her, which I obviously would be if I depended on her for the roof over my head.

But did I now have a choice? Clearly, I couldn't stay in the marital home, especially as Sinclair would soon be moving in. I now had no job, no income, so renting a property was out of the question. No, I had no option but to move in with the predatory Deirdre.

A swift 'phone call to her by her daughter confirmed just what Joanna had informed me, Deirdre was indeed delighted by the prospect of me living with her. And so, later on during that fateful day, my car, not a new Mercedes, incidentally, was loaded with as much of my personal gear as it could carry, as I drove towards my fate, and my new home. Deirdre's house.

Any doubts as to intentions towards me were completely dismissed by just how she was dressed when I arrived, in addition to the beaming smile on her face when she greeted me. You see, she'd once asked my advice on just what clothing she should purchase in order to look sexy. I'd told her to buy a leather suit, complete with a short skirt. As she opened her door to me, just guess what she was wearing right then? With the skirt just long enough to ensure that one couldn't see whether the sheer nylon upon her shapely legs was in the form of stockings or tights, although I just knew it would be the former.

However, even Deirdre realised that this wasn't the right time for sexual seduction. I mean, I'd just lost both my job and effectively my wife on the very same day. Instead, she showed me to one of her home's spare bedrooms, "you can sleep here, Darling." And then under her breath, although I suspect that she'd not intended for me to hear, "for now!" But, from a pure sexual perspective, she left me alone for the rest of that day, and night.