The morning after our turkey day tryst, my mother-in-law Marilyn, apparently more level-headed and pious while sober, pretended like nothing had happened between us. When we shared a moment alone together in the kitchen, I slid up behind her and kissed her neck. She pulled away from me and gave me a little nudge with her elbow. I was puzzled to say the least.
Marilyn spoke barely a word to me the rest of the weekend. As Linzie and I got in our car to drive home, I had begun to wonder if the basement rendevous with my mother-in-law was a one-time thing. A small part of me even doubted that the whole thing had happened. It was such a wild and surreal experience. Had I dreamed the whole thing?
Of course I knew I hadn't, but I was quite angry that I still had not satisfied the craving for my mother-in-law. Each time within the next couple of weeks that I fucked my wife, I tried to imagine it was her mom. But now, having felt and seen the real thing, it was harder to pretend.
About mid-December, three weeks after that fateful Thanksgiving Day, I got a call from Marilyn. I was at home with the afternoon off from work. She asked if we could get together and talk. Talk? Is that really all she wanted to do was talk? I invited her over to find out.
Marilyn walked into the house, bundled up in her winter coat, with a sour look on her face.
"Fuck," I said to myself, she really does just want to talk.
Marilyn wouldn't even take off her coat at first, until finally with my insistance, she allowed me to take it from her. I told her to come in and sit down, but she refused, preferring to stand in the doorway.
"Let's make this short and sweet," she started. "What happened on Thanksgiving was a mistake. We both know that if anyone ever found out what happened, our marriages would be destroyed. And I know we both don't want that."
"I love your daughter, but she doesn't come close to making me feel the way you do," I responded. "And don't tell me Jim, satisfies you, because I know he doesn't."
"I love Jim."
"And I love Linzie. But what they don't know won't hurt them."
"But what if--,"
I cut her off mid-sentence by shoving my lips upon hers and kissing her.
It didn't take long for her resistance to melt, soon she was kissing me back, stammering in between our passion, "But it's not right."