Claire The First Time

It's ten years since I first made love to my mother-in-law, though I probably ought to correct a couple of discrepancies in that statement:

Ten years ago Claire wasn't my mother-in-law; her daughter Penny and I weren't married until three years later. Secondly, a more accurate description would've been when I first fucked Claire, as it was more akin to rape than love-making. The degree of resistance with which Claire's met my advances over the subsequent years has waned, but I still invariably have to overcome Claire's moral reticence, before her inner vixen escapes.

How would I describe Claire? That's quite easy, just picture a slightly older version of the actress Carey Mulligan, five feet six, one hundred and fifteen pounds, shoulder length fair hair, somewhat elfin featured and with large, deep-brown eyes; though as I've discovered to my pleasure, Claire's far less fragile than her appearance might suggest.

Claire married her childhood sweetheart at eighteen, moved into a house less than three miles from where she'd grown up and had borne two daughters by the age of twenty one; due to a work-place accident, she was then widowed before her twenty-third birthday. Whether Claire's self-effacing disposition is a natural phenomenon or a result of her parochial life and early widowhood, I couldn't say, but it's altered little over the years.

It was Friday lunchtime; I'd been dating Penny for a little over four months and was becoming increasingly frustrated. Penny was drop-dead gorgeous, but to date had been resolute in her refusal to go to bed with me. We were heading off to a weekend music festival that evening and as I was discussing with my elder brother in the pub when I received the phone call, I'd high hopes that this was going to be the weekend when Penny finally put out; she'd certainly implied that it might be.

The call was from Penny herself, explaining that she wasn't going to get away from work early as planned and since I had a free afternoon, asking me to drive across to her place to pick up her overnight bag, before collecting her straight from the office at six-o'clock. Penny still lived at home with her mother, but as she wouldn't be in that afternoon either - Claire worked and indeed still works, in the local library -- I would need to go around to Penny's office first to collect a door key.

Having assured Penny that it wasn't a problem, I finished my pint, then walked over to pick up the key, making some quip about it being unnecessary as I wasn't planning on her having much need for clothing over the weekend anyway. Penny responded to that with a wry smile, before whispering: "Sorry Paul, but you're out of luck; it's that time of the month, so I won't even need to worry about fighting you off this weekend."

I tried hard to conceal my disappointment, but I doubt that I was successful, managing nothing beyond a tight smile as I left Penny to get on with her work and quickly departing. I was seriously pissed-off, so rather than going directly to collect the holdall, I returned to the pub to drown my frustration with a couple more beers and perhaps garner a few words of consolation from my brother.

It was four o'clock before I drove over to Skelton Cottage and to be honest, I'd probably had more beer than was legal or even safe to be driving by the time that I went. After all that beer and despite a high speed trip across there, I was in dire need of a leak by the time I arrived; dashing out of the car, I unlocked the front door and rushed straight upstairs and into the bathroom.

As I opened the door and walked in, a naked Claire had just stepped out of the shower cubicle and what followed was like a scene from a stage farce. Claire shrieked in a combination of surprise and embarrassment, while frantically trying to cover her modesty; one hand for each of her pert breasts, whilst a contorted twist of the hips and a raised leg served to somewhat imperfectly conceal the triangle of wispy blonde hair between her thighs.

For my own part, I was desperately trying to absorb as much of this spectacle as possible, while at the same time attempting to give the impression that I was doing just the opposite. After a few seconds I passed Claire a towel and retreated back to the landing, offering apologies over my shoulder as I closed the door. With Claire's dignity restored by the closing door, I voiced further apologies through it and explained the events which had led to my unannounced intrusion.

Claire responded, by relating how some kiddie had thrown up on her at the Library, so she'd come home earlier than usual to get cleaned up and change her clothes. Interspersed with snatches of embarrassed laughter, explanations were completed, further apologies were tendered and accepted, whereafter I retreated to the foot of the stairs until the bathroom became free.

Two minutes later Claire flitted across the landing, wrapped in a small towel, which did more to emphasise her curves than to mask them. Once again I strived to obtain the best view that I could manage, while appearing to do just the reverse; my efforts being assisted by a providentially placed mirror. Having reached the sanctuary of her bedroom Claire called down: "I'm out, the Bathroom's Free!"

I retraced my steps to the bathroom still reviewing what I'd just seen and once there was left in no doubt as to the impact that Claire's nakedness had made on me; my prick was so engorged that I was barely able to drain my bladder. Until then I'd never considered Claire sexually; her fair hair was usually tied back in a severe style, those doe-eyes obscured behind heavy, unflattering glasses and until today, Claire's lithe figure had invariably been masked by the conservative, rather mumsy clothing that she invariably wore.

During my protracted piss, I continued visualising Claire's gorgeous body and contemplating what I'd like to do with it; as a result my cock got even stiffer. Perhaps it was the frustration of Penny's latest knock-back, certainly the amount of alcohol sloshing around in my bloodstream contributed, but the testosterone was pumping and my fantasies began running wild:

Claire had by then been widowed for almost seventeen years and allegedly had never dated since; so, she was obviously 'gagging' for it and had engineered this whole incident with the express purpose of getting me to satisfy her long repressed sexual needs. It sounds ridiculous in hindsight, but I was young, semi-inebriated and sexually frustrated; in seconds I'd stripped off my clothes, dropped them onto the bathroom floor and tip-toed across the landing to stand outside Claire's bedroom door.

I hesitated just long enough to steady my breathing before wrenching open the door to find Claire clad only in a pair of panties - plain white, exactly what I would've expected - and in the process of fitting a matching bra. Claire's attention was immediately caught by my sudden appearance; in less than a second her face registered surprise, followed by confusion and finally, in that moment when Claire's brain registered my nudity and state of arousal, understanding dawned and her expression settled into one of horrified realisation.

Claire glanced around, flitting first left and then right, vainly searching for an escape route, before finally stepping backward; all that she achieved was to catch her legs on the bed and overbalance with a shriek. As Claire fell on the counterpane, her semi-fastened bra rode upward to reveal her pert breasts and that spectacle proved even better than my earlier glimpse had promised: Claire's boobs whilst small, were firm, full and tipped with exceptionally large and given her pale complexion, surprisingly dark, brown nipples.

I was captivated and for several seconds simply stared, until Claire's embarrassment overcame her fear and she sat upright, trying to replace her disarrayed bra. "No!" I cried, as I stepped forward to rip it from Claire's shoulders before she had a chance to fasten the clasp. Claire threw her arms protectively across her breasts and when I tried to pull them away she resisted tenaciously; not to be denied I delivered a sharp slap her face and demanded that she: "Uncover them, right now!"

While the blow wasn't hard, the surprise of it was sufficient to tumble Claire back down onto to the bed, where she began to weep. Claire still resolutely kept her breasts covered and it was only when I growled: "Don't make me have to tell you again" that Claire relented and slowly lowered her arms, allowing me to revel in her body once again.

It was hard to imagine that this was a mother who was approaching forty; her breasts sat high and her belly displayed no trace of the two daughters that she'd borne, indeed it was flatter than that of her daughter. Back then I'd never heard of the terms MILF or Yummy-Mummy, but they could have been aptly applied to Claire; it was evident that rather than simply failing to make the most of her assets, Claire had been actively disguising them.

My eyes for the moment sated, I knelt on the bed beside Claire and lightly stroked my fingertips across her breast, she trembled but offered no resistance; encouraged by Claire's apparent capitulation, my caresses became increasingly vigorous, crudely groping each breast in turn - small certainly, but by God they were firm - and rolling her fat brown nipples roughly between finger and thumb.

Claire trembled, continued to weep and occasionally flinched at my aggressive mauling, but offered no further resistance until I leaned over her to a take a nipple into my mouth. She raised her arms once again, this time to fend me off and whispered plaintively: "Paul, you have to stop this now; I'm old enough to be your mother."

Claire's final plea was stretching the truth a little, I was a couple of years older than her daughters and with the way birthdays fell, there was only a sixteen year gap between our respective ages. Notwithstanding, Claire's appeal fell on deaf-ears; I twisted her left nipple savagely and ordered her to drop her arms and as Claire winced and complied, I lowered my head and began suckling on Claire's right one.

I took my pleasure over Claire's breasts for a full five minutes and was shocked to discover that the background murmur of her entreaties not only heightened my arousal, but fed my aggression still further; when I raised my head to re-appraise her breasts, I was stunned to discover the extent of the discolouration and the teeth marks with which I'd marred them.

Locking eyes with Claire in expectation of another appeal for me to stop, I wasn't disappointed; this further entreaty too served only to arouse me yet further and Claire perhaps realised that I wasn't to be deterred When I slid a hand down to the waistband of her white panties, she made a yet another and equally futile bid for escape, I guess she was desperate by then, but Claire couldn't have got it more wrong.

As Claire rolled away from me and began to scramble across the bed, I already had one hand on the front of her panties and that roll allowed me to grasp the back of them too, so while Claire 'escaped', her pants didn't and her progress was abruptly curtailed when they snagged first at her knees and then again at her ankles; as Claire's momentum was checked, I firmly grasped her ankle and ripped her pants away completely, before hauling her back across the mattress.

Claire looked pleadingly over her shoulder and into my eyes, the were tears streaming down her face as she begged: "Please, stop Paul, before it's too late; I don't want this, it's Penny who wants to go to bed with you."

"Bollocks!" I snarled in reply, "That prissy daughter of yours always has some excuse for knocking me back, while you on the other hand, even if you won't admit it, are desperate for a stiff cock and probably have been for years!"

Claire was telling the truth, but I'd no interest in listening, holding firm to my testosterone-fueled fantasy that she was a frustrated widow, refusing to admit that she was long overdue for a fuck. I put an end to Claire's escape effort with a couple of slaps to her bum and a growled: "Stop play acting and get your legs open, we both know that you're ripe for a fucking!"

Claire's struggling ceased, but she wouldn't comply with my final demand; she lay face-down and limp, with her face buried in the pillows, but I wasn't going to be thwarted now. Shuffling up the bed, I grabbed Claire by the hips, jerked her up onto her knees and forced her pale thighs apart with my own knee.

This set off a further round of struggling from Claire, but with my groin pressed hard into her behind and my left arm thrust beneath her pawing at her boobs once again, she was unable to sink back to any perceived sanctuary of the mattress. Confident that I'd got Claire held securely, my right hand joined the fray, delving between her thighs to explore that inviting looking pussy which I'd so far only glimpsed; Claire writhed once more of course, but it was a half-hearted effort and I suspect she'd by then accepted that her subjugation was complete.

My probing fingers were quick to invade the warm, but still barely-damp channel between Claire's legs, I was disappointed not to find her 'dripping wet'; the discovery somewhat undermining my hormone driven fantasy that Claire was 'gagging for it'. With youthful impatience and inexperience combining I'd no time to wait, glancing around I saw and and grabbed a jar of what I presume was cold-cream from the bedside cabinet.

Quickly, albeit clumsily, removing its cap one-handed, I plunged my fingers inside to withdraw a dollop of the unctuous salve; the jar then bounced off Claire's hip, rolled across the counterpane and fell to the floor, depositing the remainder of its contents en-route; I couldn't help but smile at Claire's reaction, despite her situation, this house-proud mother seemed as much concerned at having her bedroom despoiled, as by the more intimate misuse that was to come

I was still watching the expression changes on Claire's face as I pressed my cream-coated fingers back between her thighs to work the slick gloop around and into her reluctant twat, so I also saw the moment when that cool, wet, intrusion brought Claire's mind sharply back to her more immediate concern. While Claire still felt incredibly tight, her channel was now butter-slick and I dragged my engorged prick down from where it rested between her buttocks.

Claire's plaintive appeals began once again as my cock slipped between her thighs to nuzzle at the entrance of her tight pussy I paused for a moment to listen to Claire's litany of protest: "No, No, No! Don't do this Paul; I'm begging you, stop it now, please!" Claire's cries served only to inflame me further most especially when I heard her go on to declare: "You just can't do this to me Paul!"

I grinned and was already driving my hips forward as I replied: "Sorry Claire, you're about to find out that I can." My prick speared into her well greased cunt, but despite the added lubrication, Claire's pussy proved to be tighter than I'd ever imagined; it took four more heavy thrusts before I'd fully penetrated her with Claire squealing protests in response to every one.

Through inexperience I was no doubt crude and clumsy, but I suspect that Claire's screams of protest were due more to the psychological rather than any physical pain from my violation? I feared her cries would rouse the interest of any neighbours, but I wasn't about to stop now, so pressed Claire's face into the pillow as I withdrew and when I ploughed back into her, Claire's next appeal was suitably muted.

Once embedded I took a few moments to regain my breath and savour the sight, smell, touch, taste and particularly sound of Claire's subjugation. She'd finally surrendered and beyond maintaining my grip on her hips Claire was now unrestrained; clearly she'd gone beyond offering resistance as on quaking knees and bathed in sweat, Claire was simply gasping for breath.

I was in no hurry now, having finally got my cock inside a real woman I wanted to prolong that experience and held myself deep within Claire's trembling body, relishing the warm constriction of her cleft; I'd always thought that childbirth loosened a woman's pussy, but Claire's was still as tight as a duck's arse. Claire remained silent as I savoured her submission, it was only when I began a slow tantalising withdrawal that she started to protest once more:

A protracted, though much quieter: "Pleeaasee", followed by and equally mournful: "Nooooo!" as I slid my full length back into the depths of her tight gash. I hadn't anticipated the pleasure of dominion that Claire's wailing would arouse, those monotonous entreaties serving as an exquisite punctuation to each stroke, a perfect metronome by which to progress toward fulfilment. Claire's pleas began in protest of my penetrations, but I'm sure she's never realised that those roles were ultimately reversed and that instead I was fucking her to their rhythm.

My only regret from that day is of missing the 'moment of transition'. I was so engrossed in the tactile pleasure which Claire provided, that I missed the moment when those cries of "Pleeeasee" & "Nooooo" transmuted to "Oh Godddd" and "Yessssss". I loved that change and by then was perhaps relieved to be hearing it, but I will always regret having missed Claire's very first expression of pleasure and encouragement.

It'd become increasingly harder to sustain the perverse views of Claire's needs and desires with which I'd begun so I wasn't surprised to discover that now I actually did give a toss as to whether she enjoyed it too. Claire had affording me what was far and away the greatest fuck, indeed most exciting moment of my entire life and suddenly it was equally important that she climaxed first.

It would've been the easiest thing in the world to just slam my cock into Claire and shoot my load; I wasn't far off already so a half dozen strokes would've sufficed. Instead I maintained a steady, almost pedestrian pace with my penetrations and savoured the contribution which Claire was now beginning to add; her hips had begun to rotate, spiralling around my invading prick. For Fuck Sake, Claire was really getting into this!

I still didn't last long, but it was enough as within a minute it was Claire bouncing backwards against my intrusion that had her slamming onto me, rather than me into her. I don't know what I'd expected, but Claire's orgasm when it arrived scared the crap out of me! It was violent, almost explosive and the language with which Claire proclaimed it was it was far beyond anything I'd ever heard or even imagined her using; Claire was swearing like a trooper!

Despite her own orgasm Claire retained the presence of mind to realise that my own climax and discharge was imminent and as I drove into her dissipated body for what would be perhaps the penultimate time, Claire groaned: "Not inside me Paul, please... don't make me pregnant!"

It was a timely reminder, I'd no desire to risk the consequences of fertilising Claire and for the first time that day I heeded one of her pleas; withdrawing completely on the next stroke, to ejaculate explosively and repeatedly across Claire's buttocks and back.

Whilst the bulk of my emission pooled in the small of Claire's back, it was a mark of just how aroused I'd become during her misuse, that my initial discharge had actually spewed across Claire's hair and shoulders. As my excitement waned, it was to the realisation that Claire was quietly weeping beneath me once more; whether this was in response to my crude assault or her own capitulation and sensual reciprocity I was only later to discover.

Spotting the advancing time on Claire's bed side clock, I went quietly back to the bathroom to retrieve my clothes, collected Penny's overnight bag from her bedroom and left without further words passing between us -- I was late, it was almost six already.