Never Lie To Ex Gfs Sweet Mom

Never lie to ex-GF's sweet mom.

Dumped boy talks honestly with his "almost" mother-in-law.

##### To the Reader. This tale contains very slight hints of the use of handcuffs between two consentient adult lovers and a little tad of Gentle Femdom very soft. So please don't read it if that bothers you, feel free to devote the time to other more interesting tales.

My contribution to the 2022 Halloween contest; if you liked it, leave a constructive comment, please. ######

Intro.

"I will lick your pussy for hours. Oh, my goddess... I want to give you an unforgettable oral orgasm, and you know I'm not lying."

She smiled at me and replied "Sean, dear boy, I will allow you to lick and eat, and maybe even make me orgasm, but right after that, I want you to screw me without any respect, and fill my womb with your cum: and you know I'm not lying."

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Chapter 1. The vial.

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It was the night before Halloween. I was invited to dinner by my girlfriend's parents: they were divorced but had remained friends, or so they said, and they spent the holidays together: Halloween, Thanksgiving, Xmas, taking different paths only on Valentine's Day (because he had to go on the hunt for new female prey).

I was just a poor student in his twenties, with a lot of problems. Now I'm walking toward an elegant dinner, and yet I didn't know how to bring a suitable present to my host family.

The father was a famous plastic surgeon, very rich; the mother taught Chemistry at the university, had many patents for important inventions, and was said to be descended from a family of European noble marquises. The mother, grey hair and grey eyes, she had very polite manners, but had never boasted of aristocratic titles.

And my girlfriend, Mary, blond-haired, blue-eyed, tall, and slender, was distinctly out of my league, and I couldn't fathom why she had asked me to be her boyfriend. Oh, well, she was complex because a pinky nail on her right toe was slightly crooked, but nobody's perfect, right? I just couldn't understand why she wanted to date with me: I was just a normal ordinary guy, kind and good, but nothing else.

Is it enough in this world, to be just kind and good, to make a woman fall in love? Or is it always necessary to be the Alpha Wolf of the Pack?

As I was deep in my doubts a hand grabbed my elbow and a voice said:

"Hey you, Boy! Wait for a moment. I sell the present you need."

Strange, I had walked down that street countless times because my girlfriend's mother often invited me to dinner: like a good cook, she would stay strictly downstairs in the kitchen, while the two of us had some sex in her daughter's room upstairs.

But I had never noticed that stall and that lady with the pointy nose and greenish skin, who spoke to me in a hoarse voice. "Here's the present you need! I know you are a sincere guy, but this is the Elixir of Sincerity."

"I'm sorry I don't have the money to pay for it."

"I knooooow! I know all about you, you poor little sincere boy. I just need a hair of yours, I could even steal it [and with a two-finger gesture he hinted to take a hair from my jacket] but it acquires more power if offered voluntarily."

"Madam, seriously, I just don't have the time..."

"I knooooow! Here's the elixir. If you give me a hair we're even."

He placed a glass (or crystal) vial with a crystal stopper in my hand. It contained an emerald green liquid: probably white wine with a chlorophyll dye. But a hair was less expensive than the few dollars in my pocket. I grabbed a hair between my thumb and forefinger, pulled and gave it to my Benefactress.

A cloud of white steam came out of the sidewalk (it happens often, near restaurants) and covered the view. Afterward, the lady was gone, along with the stall. As in Portobello Road.

The vial had remained. It was probably useless but the crystal might have looked like an ornament. I shrugged my shoulders and walked slowly toward the house where I was expected for dinner.

Chapter 2. "Dinner is ready!"

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Her mother opened the front door for me, spreading her lips in a sincere smile. "Thank you for coming, Sean dear, I couldn't have lasted with those two quarrelsome people a moment longer." She hugged me and placed a kiss on my forehead. She wore a fine dress and perfumed nicely.

"Good evening, Madame Andersson," I replied as politely as I could. "you look even more elegant this evening," Her grey, sweet eyes smiled at me before her lips.

"Don't be silly, dear, I'm just a mature woman whom her husband abandoned to run after young chicks. Maybe I was beautiful in my twenties, but after I gave birth, the greying blond hair, and after the surgeons removed my left breast..."

"Not true, madame: you are always charming."

She gently took the vial from my hands. It was at least 6 inches long. "What did you bring, dear? Is it a bottle of wine, an aperitif?"

"I wouldn't want to lie just to a person who is an expert in Chemistry. I'm afraid it's just a mixture without any taste, but they sold it to me as the 'Elixir of Sincerity' [I made the air-quotes gesture] but I really..."

"Ah! Sincerity! My dear ex-husband and your pretty girlfriend don't even know what the word means!" Madam called the two bad subjects to the table, pouring the contents of the vial into the goblets. "Dinner is ready! And Sean dear has brought us an aperitif to drink!"

My girlfriend and her father arrived together. They both were red in the face and sweaty as if they were fighting fiercely. He had his tie undone and she had a lock of sweaty hair stuck to her forehead. They sat down without greeting me: he grunted, and she nodded her chin at me as if to say, "I saw you, but I'm too angry to talk."

With an imperious gesture, Madam Andersson intimated the two disputants to sit down at the table, as if they were two ruffled children. "Let's all drink together: cheers!"

We all drank in silence.

I was slower because I wanted to savor that moment: and I looked at Madam Andersson, saying nothing.

My girlfriend and her father had drunk the shot all in one go: they put the glass down and said, without any restraint:

"I would like to spank your little bratty ass!"

" I would love for you to do that, but while my new boyfriend Chad is filming you, so then we go to his father who is a rich lawyer, and take away all the money you earn!"

I still had my mouth on the goblet.

I had already taken the first sip, but I was about to choke hearing those words.

Meanwhile, I heard Madam Andersson say, "You two are the same, father and daughter. I know it, I've always known it.

This is my house, mine alone: and I order you, dear ex-husband, to speak no more: not a word.

As for you, young lady, I love you too much to give you orders, but Mary, honey, if you were honest with Sean, you would leave him, because we all know you don't love him. I, at least, have been aware of this for quite some time."

Too many emotions. I drank my cup all the way down. I didn't want to say anything. But against my will, my mouth said. "Me too, even I know that Mary doesn't love me."

Mary was blushing. The position of her chin on her chest was that of someone who would like to keep a secret, but the words that escaped her mouth were (for the first time) sincere. "Forgive me, Sean. I was only dating you to piss off my father. He wanted a rich man for me, and I had chosen you precisely because you are so poor. Actually. Not forever: just now in the moment. Oh, yes, I know you'll earn money after graduation, but now you're poor, and I always have to pay for movies and dinners, and I can't take it anymore. I want to dump you, Sean. I would like you to forgive me, but honestly, I don't want to do anything to get your forgiveness. Selfish? Like my father: it must be genetic, run in the family."

Madam Andersson intervened. "Mary, let me say something I have been thinking for years. I do not judge you, but I must observe that you are very similar to your father right here. He too used sex as a weapon of blackmail and as a tool for his strategies: he's cheated on me with so many young women, I've lost count. He too had no qualms about using others. Hey: I must admit, the 'Elixir of Sincerity' is quite a bomb!

Mary, daughter: I don't judge you, but sincerely -- today I feel particularly sincere -- I have to tell you that it's not fair for you to ruin poor Sean's youth.

I don't accept that you make poor Sean suffer. I am your mother: although I cannot give you orders, I can remind you of the basic rules of good manners, at least as long as you live under my roof.

And yes, Sean, though I never say it, this house is mine, inherited from the Marquis De la Fayguette, and this new rich surgeon would be dirt poor if he hadn't married me, just for the money I inherited."

Mary huffed but there was a strange gleam in her eyes. "All right! I confess. I always cheated Sean with others guys, and Chad is just the last one. I never told Sean this, just as I never told him anything truthfully. I may start now: Sean, sincerely, I want to dump you. You are free. Fuck whoever you want."

Mary stood up. Her nipples were stiff under her blouse. She stretched out her hand to reach for her father's. With exaggerated sass, she spoke truthful words that nevertheless sounded strange in the mouth of a dutiful daughter. "Dear Surgeon, Dad, would you be so kind as to accompany me with your luxurious car? I would like to get out of this house and dine elsewhere, the situation becomes more awkward for me with every passing minute. I am not used to being so sincere, this Elixir will drive me crazy!"

The father looked at his ex-wife with some awe, then, as with a gesture she excused them both from honoring the dinner prepared especially for her guests, he replied with sincere arrogance (and almost excessive experience: was he new to the such practice? I couldn't ask). "My expensive European car, which I bought with money from my hard work as a Plastic Surgeon (this sentence is sincere, and yet, is not appreciated here), is at your complete disposal, young lady."

Mary gritted her teeth with anger and lust and hissed, furious: "Agreed." And father and daughter ran out the front door, grabbing two coats and running away from our dinner.

Chapter 3 "I feel sorry for you."

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The two of us were left alone in front of all those trays full of cooked dishes.

The woman who until two minutes before I considered as if she was (almost) my mother-in-law said "I honestly feel sorry for you, Sean dear. I know you're very poor, and I've always tried to get you to eat as much as possible here in my house, to feed you as best I could. But you didn't deserve a selfish bitch like Mary. She inherited all of Onery from her father -- and it's easy to predict that she would have cheated on you with dozens of casual studs. If she left you, you should consider yourself lucky."

"I. Am. Lucky.

I know, now.

There is only one thing I regret: that I will never again be able to see the woman I love."

She listened in wonder, "Do you still love Mary, even though you know she is a selfish bitch?"

Those two words triggered me like a spring.

"No, Madame Andersson.

I know that Mary is a bitch (sorry!).

The woman I love is YOU.

I don't know how boldly I can say it, but it's true: it's true."

"Oh, my dear! In Vino Veritas: that's the wine talking, using your mouth without your control. But even I am being excessively truthful this evening.

I've been divorced for many years, and since I've known you, I always masturbate thinking about you.

And now you tell me that you love me?

Honestly, I can't accept it. You're young, full of hope and future, and I'm an old family mother, with grey hair and wrinkles and..."

"Stop! Stop, Madame Andersson. You are the reason I keep living. Just... just to see YOU once a week, I put up with Mary and her selfishness for days on end. You are a goddess to me, a sex bomb, more beautiful than Ann-Margret and Virna Lisi and... Olenna, from Game of Thrones!"

A tear gushed from her eyelashes. "The fabulous actress Diana Rigg, RIP... when I was young they told me I looked like her, but they were lying. You, on the other hand, are sincere... poor dear, the things you say are sincere! I am so moved... old age suggests to my brain to admonish you that this tension of yours will last a few years, maybe a few months... but the river of glowing lava that sets my pussy on fire suggests to my mouth to seize the moment without thinking of the future.

Do you know how many times my ex-husband, the renowned plastic surgeon, proposed cosmetic solutions to hide the scar on my heart, where I had a breast removed? He never accepted me for who I was. But I didn't want to lie: I didn't want my body to lie. That's why I have gray hair: because I don't dye it. That's why I only have one nipple: because I lost the other one."

"I know. I have always known it. And I've always admired you for it. For your gray hair. For your nipple so lonely. I swear I'm telling the truth."

"I know. Elixir is never wrong. All right, then. I can't stop myself from asking: do you want to come to my bed, Sean?"

"Oh! Yes! Madame Andersson!"

"OMG, wait a moment! Oh, I can't go on, this 'name issue' needs to be fixed now. Listen to me carefully. My daughter, she is an Andersson. My ex-husband, he is an Andersson. They are selfish, overbearing, and greedy. I am not. I am Adelaide De La Fyguette, Marchioness of Ventimille and Benefactress of the Poor in the Hospital of Toulouse. I do not want to give you any commands, but from now on, forget the Anderssons and please call me just Deedee. Is that clear?"

"Clear as daylight... Deedee."

"I am divorced. You just got dumped. I'd say, now, we're both single. But two singles can lie in a double bed... if you want."

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Chapter 4. Me and the woman I love in her bed.

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The Marquise's house was a detached cottage on two large floors.

She walked up the stairs with an elegant gait: she wore a half heel, cute and feminine, over. I watched her longingly: I almost forgot to walk up the stairs myself.

We had arrived in front of the bedroom door in a flash. She turned and stared into my eyes, asking in a stern voice, "Tell me what you want. Tonight I know you are sincere, let's take advantage of it. Don't hold back any desire, not even the most perverse."

"Oh. My main desire is for us to kiss -- I wish to savor the taste of your tongue from the first day I saw you."

Our tongues and lips intertwine. She closes her eyes and so do I. We say no more words, but the two mouths express their mutual desire with absolute sincerity. She sucks my tongue, I nibble on her lower lip. I feel her smile. I am about to say something stupid, sincere but stupid.

"Deedee... I've never felt so happy."

"This Elixir is dangerous, and I know it's true because I just said it. The most dangerous thing is talking too much. We have to keep our mouths busy so we don't say things we would regret. I know you understand what I want now: a long, long 69. And I know you're wondering if I washed today. Well, I'll be honest: I masturbated thinking you were going to be with us for dinner, and then I washed. As for you, I know for a fact that you took a long and thorough shower because Mary is always very obsessive with her submissives."

"Do you know?"

"I know that in her drawers are handcuffs, crops, whips, and stuffs. She likes to dominate males. Maybe she is even a little bit sadistic, I don't know. Her father was sadistic until I rebelled against his little games."

"Are you submissive?"

"With you, I may be anything you want, my love. Ask me anything and I will answer you truthfully."

I did not hesitate. "I would like you to slowly undress for me. I wish I could admire your body, which I judge beautiful and attractive, and you know I am sincere."

"Oh, if you had told me this on any other day, I would have thought you were trying to flatter me or seduce me... but today I know you are sincere. Honestly, I don't understand how it is possible that you like me, because I perceive myself to be old, fat, and shabby compared to when I was in my twenties."

"That may be true, Ann-Margret, but even in your forties you are more attractive than your daughter to me, and than all the girls I know, I swear!"

"Don't swear, swearing is a thing for liars, flatterers, and deceivers, I know that what you say is true. And for that reason, I decide to comply with you. Is it enough for you that I denude myself, or do you need other ingredients?"

"Oh... a rhythmic music, soft light, heels for you... and, I don't know how you will be able to do it, but I would need you to handcuff me, I beg you."

She smiled at me. I heard the echo of my words, "I beg YOU." She was so serene, so radiant. And she accepted without judgment everything I told her.

"Everything approved. But handcuffs? Wouldn't it be disgraceful, for a bourgeois, well-thinking housewife to own a pair of handcuffs?"

The question was true: it would be untoward. But not for that, less true. In fact, she opened a drawer and pulled out two pairs of handcuffs: a leather pair and a metal pair.

Her eyes were sincere as she watched me, without shame. In my eyes, there was no judgment.

She said to me, "This so-called MILF you like so much often, on afternoons when she is alone in the house, prepares for orgasm with handcuffs and ropes for long sessions of self-bondage, with vibrators and anal plugs. Are you amazed? You don't have to. Do you judge me? I hope not. Get undressed, and sit on my big bed. Tell me why you want to be restrained."

As soon as she told me to undress, I quickly took everything off.

I had been longing to be alone with her for months, naked in a bedroom.

Instead, she was still dressed, in her elegant dinner outfit.

The contrast made me horny.

A powerful erection did not embarrass me: we had gone up on purpose.

But I feared I would not resist, and I clasped my wrists with my fingers behind my back.

I told her, slowly: "If you undress for me, I'm afraid I can't resist the temptation to masturbate."

"Okay. But what if I then ask you to lick it for me?"

"If you want, I will lick it for you without being able to use my hands. It will be much slower and longer but I swear to you... Sorry! I mean, I know for a fact, that I will make you orgasm."

"Thank you. But then, I would like you to fuck me, and so, the decision is easy. Leather handcuffs with Velcro tears. There's no lock or need for keys, and they'll do for today."

"You said 'for today,' did I hear you correctly?"

"Of course."

"Does that mean you will allow me into your bed in the coming days as well?"

"You will always be welcome in my bed, Sean."

"Cuff me right now, Deedee, or I don't guarantee I'll last another minute."

My wrists are behind my back. She cuffed me gently. Then she got out of bed and mumbled a command to a device that began playing rhythmic music, like a jazz version of some recent song (but I couldn't recognize it).

She opened a closet door so that I could not see her disrobed: all I could see were her very sweet feet sheathed in heeled shoes. After several minutes, she came out for me to look at her: she was wearing only an unbuttoned white shirt, dark stockings and heels. Perhaps she wanted to cover the scar of her removed breast? I could not know for sure. Before I could say anything, my cock reacted with a jolt that brought a smile to her face.

"I can see that you are genuinely attracted to this ordinary old woman."

"You are wonderful, Deedee." I could see the slim tuft of rare grey hair on her mound. I would have given anything to be able to kiss those sweet hairs. I thought maybe shaving the hair seemed to her like a way of lying? Almost as if to look younger? I loved that thin grey tuft.