Readers of my previous stories will know that after my father-in-law died, my wife's mother Dorothy came to live with us while she got her affairs sorted out. She stayed with us for almost two years during which she and I had a sexual affair which fulfilled her needs and all my fantasies. After she moved out into her own flat, she and I continued to see each other but she of course had other relationships as well.
After Dorothy had lived in her flat for about a year she decided to change around some bedroom furniture, and my wife Caroline volunteered my services to go over there one Saturday morning to help with the removals. I was looking forward to getting the furniture moved so that her mother and I could be left alone for the afternoon. When I got there I was crestfallen to find someone else standing in the kitchen also waiting to assist. My mother-in-law introduced him as Pete, the son of her friend Mary who lived in the ground floor flat below.
My mother-in-law was dressed in a short skirt, tan coloured nylons and low-cut tightly-fitting jumper. Her larger figure looked fantastic – big tits with lots of cleavage on show, rounded tummy, big bum, hips and thighs squeezed in to her skirt and lovely big calves in her tightly-stretched sheer nylons. A couple of times, we found ourselves pushing past one another amid the displaced furniture and I could feel my cock pushing through my jeans as she pressed herself against me.
Pete and I spent the morning moving furniture from one bedroom to another and in some cases back again, and when we were finished Dorothy offered to buy lunch for both of us at the pub which we both accepted with delight.
Pete's story was an odd one, and over lunch and a few pints Dorothy and I got to hear the full details. Pete was 51 years old, and had got divorced from his wife a few years before, whereupon he'd bought the flat in the same building as my mother-in-law. It was a large place with three bedrooms and lots of space, and after he'd been there some time, he invited his mother Mary to come to share the place with him. This was the bit I found odd, so once the beer had added confidence to our conversation I asked him whether he felt inhibited by living with his mother, what did he do about bringing lady friends into the flat for example, and wasn't his freedom a bit cramped?
He responded by saying how much he enjoyed his mother's company, even though she could be a bit stern at times, and he didn't get the opportunity to meet many lady friends so it suited him for the time being. With a smile he added that it had its compensations, but his comment was lost on me. I still found it a bit strange that a 51-year-old man with greying hair and short beard should be spending his evenings at home with his mum.
Later that afternoon, we all left the pub and went back to the flat. Dorothy and I went upstairs and Pete went in to ask his mum to come up and join us. Dorothy opened some wine and within a few minutes Pete and his mum Mary came in through. Mary was taller than my mother-in-law, and as I discovered later, she was 75 years old. Her figure was slimmer than Dorothy's, she had short, wavy grey hair and was dressed in a white blouse, green cotton skirt which finished above her knee, and wore brown tights and strappy shoes with a slightly high heel. She had on a pearl necklace and matching bracelet which gave her a look of old-fashioned primness.
As the afternoon wore on, we all talked and drank wine, but in the end Mary and Dorothy were chatting between themselves so Pete and I went to his flat to get some beer. As we went downstairs and in through his door, curiosity got the better of me and I couldn't stop myself referring back to our conversation in the pub. "So this arrangement, Pete," I asked, "what exactly are the compensations you were talking about earlier?"
"You've lived with your mother-in-law for two years," he said, "You know exactly what I mean". I of course pretended I didn't, but he protested. He told me it was obvious to anybody who saw us together that Dorothy and I had something "going on together" between us, as he put it. Apparently we'd made it obvious during the furniture moving that morning. The beer really was talking now, and neither of us was being particularly tactful or diplomatic. I protested that I had no idea what he was on about, and asked him again what I had to do with the compensations of him living with his elderly mother. He smiled, looked around as if there were someone potentially listening, and leaned forwards toward me. "When she was living with you" he asked, "did you ever have a wank into her knickers?"
Even three-parts pissed as I was from the afternoon's drinking, I could still have died from embarrassment. "Pete" I exclaimed, "that's a terrible thing to ask someone!"
"So, you're not denying it then you dirty bastard!" he said with a sly grin, then followed it up with "Come with me".
I followed him to his mum's bedroom where he went to the corner and took the lid off a tall wicker basket to reveal Mary's dirty laundry within.
Pete couldn't possibly have known then that ladies' worn underwear was principal among my sex fantasies, and had been so since I was a teenager living with my parents. The smell, feel and taste of my mum's knickers, tights, bras and stockings set me on a journey which I was still travelling today. It accounted for an affair I had with my landlady when I was in digs, it caused a relationship to begin between my aunty and me while I was a student, and played a large part in my selection of Caroline as my wife. It certainly started things off between my mother-in-law Dorothy and me and still played a big part in our dirty fuck sessions whenever we could get together.
Peering into the basket as Pete held the lid I could see a cornucopia of lingerie items held within. Pete put down the lid and started to take out the items one-by-one, laying them out on the bed and discarding any non-underwear items of clothing on the floor. There were several pairs of brown and tan-coloured tights, pairs of large cotton panties in white, black and pink, some surprisingly large bras of an old-fashioned type with broad straps and pointy cups, some very sheer tan-coloured stockings, a white girdle with six suspender straps and best of all, a pair of flesh-coloured nylon see-through knickers with high-leg sides and cotton gusset.
As Pete laid them all out on the bed, I watched him with envy, trying my best to hold back my sexual interest in the treasure laid before me, and shifting around to hide my erection. We stood there like two naughty school boys, swaying around Mary's bedroom due to the drink. I looked up long enough to ask what Mary would say if she caught us doing this. "It's OK," he replied, "she knows!"
All I could think of saying was "Fuck me!" and we both laughed loud and long at the ridiculousness of it all. Then, Pete became serious and said to me "You know what I mean, don't you – you must have done the same with Dorothy's underwear. I know I would have done if I'd lived with her." The time for modesty had gone, mostly thanks to the beer and wine, so I confessed I had a certain penchant for Dorothy's dirty knickers, and had done my stuff in them many times. I picked up a pair of Mary's panties and held them up to my face, breathing in the heady, acidic aroma of her cunt in the gusset.
"I knew you were a dirty bastard as soon as I saw you", Pete said, picking up some tights and panties himself and sniffing their gusset. At the same time, he picked up a second pair with his left hand and pressed them into his groin, rubbing up and down while sniffing and licking the pair next to his face. I looked down at the array of underwear before me, and Pete asked me "Do you wank into the gusset when you do it with Dorothy's?" I replied in the affirmative, and he continued "Do you wash them afterwards of put them straight back?" I replied that I put them back with my cum in them, and asked what he did. "Mum likes to inspect them afterwards", he said with a grin!
This was such a weird set-up: a fifty-one year old man wanking into the gusset of his mother's underwear so that she could inspect his filth afterwards! My own affair with my wife's mother was beginning to look relatively normal! As I was mulling this over, and thinking what I'd like to do to Dorothy right now, we heard the front door to the flat close loudly, and footsteps in the hall. Pete and I looked at each other and started to put all the clothes hurriedly back into the laundry basket, but before we could finish, the door opened and in walked Mary, tall and elegant, but elderly and with a stern look on her face. She looked first at me then at Pete and said angrily "You filthy little boy what do you think you're doing showing my dirty knickers to a strange man?"
Pete was still significantly under the influence of the beer and only made matters worse by blurting out "It's OK mum, don't panic, he understands – he does it with Dorothy's undies too! Why don't you come here and give your little boy a cuddle?"
She moved across the room to him, but not to cuddle him, instead taking his arm and dragging him out of the room into the hall. She closed the door behind him and started to collect her dirty things form the bed and the floor. As she did so she said to me "I'm sorry, you'll have to forgive Peter, he gets carried away with his fantasies sometimes. She was very red, and hugely embarrassed so I sought to offer her some comfort: "Don't worry, he meant no harm, and he's right, we all do it don't we?"