Ron had been trying to figure out for the past few months where he'd seen his daughter-in-law previously to her marrying his son. There was something familiar about those pouty, cock sucking lips.
It had come to him in a fucking dream of all things. He'd woken up with an almighty hard on and her stripper name on his lips. Bluebelle. Lap dancing queen from about seven years ago at Kitty's Pink Lips club. She couldn't have been older than nineteen at the time.
Her real name was Tessa. He'd been cock hard for her from the moment his son introduced her. Now, Ron loved his son, Jonny, but he was a bit of a dolt - took after his late mother - and he couldn't understand how he'd snared a fox like Tessa. That honey-blonde hair reached almost to her round delectable ass. And the rack was ample. Many a night he'd wanked off to the fantasy of playing with those fat tits, and looking down into blue, blue eyes while his big cock slid between her pouty red lips.
It didn't matter how Jonny had charmed Tessa. A plan had formed in Ron's mind and his cock would no longer have only his hand to play with.
That Friday evening Jon went out to get more drinks for a get together they were having later that night. His father Ron had turned up early. Tessa washed dishes in the kitchen. As soon as Jon left, Ron sidled up behind her.
"How's it going, Bluebelle?"
"Bluebelle?" Tessa laughed nervously.
"Game's up, darling. Does my son know who you really are?"
"I don't know what you mean. I - "
"Kitty's Pink Lips. Does that ring a bell, Bluebell? I wonder what Jon would think about the number of men who got to see your pretty pink lips back then, hmm?" Ron leaned in close and let his hot breath stir her hair against her ear. "And I'm sure you know exactly which lips I'm talking about."
After a long silence Tessa asked him what he wanted.
"What do you think I want?" He tried not to smirk, but his cock was pulsing with joy in his pants. Soon, he'd have this tasty morsel just where he wanted her. He looked over her shoulder and down into her deep cleavage and the expanse of smooth creamy flesh. Ron licked his lips.
Tessa didn't reply. Ron rested his hands on her bare shoulders. She flinched but didn't shrug him off. He told her that the strapless dress she wore was his choice.
"You're wearing this dress for me. Didn't know that, did you? I put the idea in Jonny's head." His son was pretty gullible, it had to be said. "You're wearing it for me, Bluebelle."
"Don't call me that," she snapped.
"Do you understand the position you're in, girl? Let's see if you do, Bluebelle."
Ron slid his hands around her body and palmed the underside of her tits, cupping them, waiting to see if she'd try to stop him. She didn't.
"Good girl," he breathed heavily. He pulled down the top of her dress, and began bouncing her bra clad breasts in his hands, squeezing and jiggling.
