My Father-in-Law Is My Salvation

Rewrite: December 2023

Her husband's father steps in to pick up the pieces when his son follows the church and leaves his beautiful wife for a year with his mom. Sexy silver fox Stede and his young daughter-in-law Jill find they have a lot in common and will have significant surprises for the returning missionary mom and son.

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My Father-In-Law is my Salvation

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"You're what?" I had paint on my hands, so I swiped my forearm across my face and pushed errant strands of blonde hair back. "I must not have heard you correctly."

"I am going on a missionary trip to South Africa," my husband Andy said, enunciating every word as though he were talking to an imbecile.

"Okay, smart ass," I said and began rolling paint on the kitchen wall again. "Any idea how long?"

"A year."

I hesitated a moment. "A year. Is this spur of the moment, or did you know this when we bought the house, Andy?"

As an interior decorator, I networked with real estate agents, and one gave me a heads-up on this property. A cape cod from the nineteen fifties, the bones were good, and the price was right, so Andy and I snapped it up. At first, to flip, then we decided to stay. It's small and will have little upkeep. My career keeps me busy, and my husband, let's say he, stays busy between work and his church.

"I thought it may come up but was unsure," he admitted. "I have a calling. I must go." He hesitated. "You know I do not like it when you call me Andy. I've asked you numerous times to call me Andrew."

I knew better than to attempt to reason with him, especially regarding his church. And I knew he preferred to be called Andrew since joining this church. Something that has crept into every aspect of our lives- church.

"When're you leaving?"

Continuing to roll the robins' egg blue paint on the kitchen wall, I concentrated on how much I loved it against the new white cupboards. We planned on DIY other than the kitchen and two bathrooms. Thankfully, they all were done as far as the professionals went. I wanted to paint the kitchen so we would have one completed room.

"Next week."

"Okay." I turned the radio up and moved to the last area that needed painting. "Are you cooking for your parents tonight?"

"Yes."

His dad had just sold his construction company to retire and has been an enormous help to us. He and Andy's mom, Betsy, were usually ready to do whatever they could to help. I loved them both, but his mom was the one who got her son involved in the church, and I admit I harbored some resentment about that. I attended several times but never got good vibes and felt they were too controlling of the congregation, so I declined invitations from Andy and his mom after that.

"This kitchen looks fantastic, Jill. You really have an eye for color," Stede said.

Andy's dad was tall and muscled like a construction worker, not a gym rat. Stede was named after a pirate, which was a good choice because his silver beard and head full of soft silver curls made him look like one. He had an outdoor worker tan, which made his pale blue eyes even brighter.

"Thanks!" I took his dad to see both bathrooms since he hadn't seen the final results while Andy and his Mom conferred, no doubt about their church.

My husband loved to cook, and dinner was always something new, typically exceptional.

"Did you tell your parents what you're doing, Andrew?" I stood up and began clearing the table.

His dad looked at him expectantly, but his mom made a project of looking down and folding her napkin.

He looked at his dad. "I'm going to South Africa for missionary work for a year."

"Really..." Stede looked stunned; to this point, I'd never seen Stede at a loss for words.

"Yes, and Mom wanted to go, but they need money for the trip, and she was not sure what you would say. They collected funds for her. The only obstacle would be you. I guess."

Stede and I were hit with a double whammy, and he knew as well as I did that arguing with their devotion to the church would get us nothing but frustration. Their church came first. Always.

Stede turned to his wife and said, "Is that true? You want to go on a missionary trip?" She nodded, eyes downcast.

"Okay then, go." His eyes swung to me, and he smiled. "How about a beer for the old man?" Effectively dismissing any further conversation.

Everyone moved out to the deck since we had little furnishings besides beds and dressers. Andy continued to converse with his mom quietly.

Stede said quietly, "Don't worry about anything."

I smiled weakly and nodded, sure he saw the relief on my face. I've always been a self-sufficient woman, but I was not prepared to have a house dumped in my lap half in demolition.

I stared at the ceiling last night while Andy snored in a deep, peaceful sleep. For the last year, I have been considering divorce. When he first joined this church, it wasn't as demanding. Slowly, they crept into every facet of our lives. About six months in, Andy told me that the church sanctioned that sex should only be used for procreating. And that day, our sex life ended.

From then on, I could not imagine what kind of a marriage we would have.

I remained faithful to my husband, but this current situation that he was leaving me for a year would put the wheels in motion to end our marriage.

Church members picked up the two the morning they were to leave. We hadn't talked much about it. He had been in high spirits since his announcement and obviously looked forward to his trip.

After the goodbyes, I returned to painting and moved into the first bathroom.

"Jill," I heard someone call and recognized my father-in-law's voice.

"Stede! I'm in the bathroom."

"Oh, okay. I'll wait in the kitchen."

I laughed. "No, no, I'm painting. C'mon in!" I looked down and cringed when I saw my t-shirt with daubs and drips of paint on my tits. Thirty-eight D were always in the way, catching drips or smearing paint.

Too late to change, Stede appeared, nearly filling the doorframe. "Thought you could use some company slash help?" he smiled.

We both suddenly had unresolved issues; no one understood them better. At least we had each other.

"Please do both." He began to install towel bars and the remainder of the hardware.

"So, what do you think about all this, Jill?"

"Honestly? I'm going to file for divorce from Andy."

He nodded. "I understand, certainly. I admit the thought has crossed my mind as well." He sighed. "We're older, and I'm unsure how Betsy would do alone. Not like we're young like you and could easily jump back into the dating game." He shook his head. "Just thinking about dating makes me cringe."

"Yeah, it wasn't anything I had expected. The church has started to be too controlling, and it began to affect our marital life." I turned to look at him. "And you're not old. In fact, I think you'd be quite a catch for any woman. You got that bad boy pirate look."

He chuckled. "I've been called many things, but never a bad boy pirate."

"Yeah, well, I'm a woman, and I know these things," I said, stepping off the ladder and bumping into him. "Yikes, sorry." He steadied me against him.

I basked in the heat of his hands and hard body for a moment. I had been craving a man's touch. He was in no hurry to let me go or move away. He had undoubtedly been affected as much as I, but I honestly did not know him well enough to guess if he would have found sex elsewhere, outside of his marriage.

I always thought my father-in-law was looking, but not in the way I was seeing him. I painted, he finished up some odds and ends, and we brushed against one another. I knew he was starving for intimacy and affection, as I was. The fact that we were in the same situation added another angle to our closeness.

We grabbed a couple of beers and sat on the deck, watching the last bit of the sun setting. I know neither wanted to discuss his wife, my husband, or our situation. I think we both knew we had to move on, in some way, as soon as we could.

"What're you doing tomorrow?"

"I usually go out fishing on Sunday afternoon," he said, seeming to trail off. He looked at me. "To be honest, I went fishing to get out of the house after she would come home from church. It got pretty intense."

I nodded. "I know exactly what you mean."

"So, since I don't need to escape from my own house, I can come over and help tomorrow. If you want me to, that is."

"Of course!" I jumped at his offer for his help and his company.

Weeks went like that. He was here working when I came home if I wasn't on a job. I discovered that Andy got his cooking skills from his dad, who often cooked breakfast, lunch, or dinner here, one or all three. We began grocery shopping and spent time together when we weren't working on the house.

There was a big difference in our ages, but it never created a problem. We had fun and were coming to terms with our lives. I had been to a lawyer, and he was drawing papers up. Stede and I never discussed it again after the first day, and I didn't tell him.

We were starting the last section of wall demolition, and I was happy to see the end in sight.

Stede came out of the demo room and groaned, rubbing his shoulder. "That lath and plaster is tough on this old guy."

"Old, she scoffs," I said, smiling. "I think I have muscle rub. How about I work on your shoulder?"

"That would be great, Jill. I couldn't have asked for a better daughter-in-law. I should have told you that a long time ago. You're like the daughter I never had, and I'm as proud of you as I would be my own."

Heartfelt words like from a big, burly father-in-law deserved a hug. I wrapped my arms around his middle, my head on his chest. I had lost my dad when I was young, and Stede had actually been like a Dad to me.

There was a moment of shock before he wrapped his arms around me and held me tight. No words were exchanged, but my view of and feelings for him instantly changed. And I knew it was the same for him. I felt it happen between us. He kissed the top of my head, and I looked up.

Shoulder forgotten, his eyes turned a lusty dark blue. I flicked my tongue over my dry lips, and he breathed. I stood on tip-toe, leaned into him, and wrapped my hand around his head, urging him closer to my waiting lips. Our eyes met.

He groaned and kissed my lips like a man that was just released. No longer restrained, he could now act on his feelings.

I squeezed my thighs together to try to bring relief to the sudden tingling in my pussy. I nearly climbed his body, trying to get closer.

He cupped my ass and pulled me up against him, his hot hard bulge rubbed against my mound. I wrapped my arms around his neck and was swallowed by an incredibly passionate kiss. He pushed me into the wall, and I wrapped my legs around him. He groaned and rocked his hips into my spread thighs, our thin shorts doing little to dispel the steamy heat.

He pulled away, gasping in my neck. He continued to grind into me. "I have to stop now, Jill, or I won't be able to," he ground out. We were both hungry. He took some deep breaths. "We need to decide if this is what we both want. And not something we'll regret."

"I won't regret it. The divorce papers are in motion, and my marriage won't stand in the way. As far as what I want, I want you." I stepped back and looked at him. "And it's not just for sex. I have a vibrator in that bedroom that has handled my needs since all this church stuff started. I guess you took care of your own needs as well."

He nodded. "This is all so new, Jill. I feel as though I've always had feelings for you. I couldn't even entertain the thought, obviously. I have to consider that besides being your father-in-law, I'm too old for you."

Brazenly I squeezed his hard cock through his jeans. "This doesn't think I'm too young for you."

"You're playing with fire."

"I hope so."

"Not here," he waved his hand. "Not now. I want you, Jill. I want nothing more than to be buried inside you." I swallowed hard, and he scanned my face. "But it'll be on my terms," he growled.

This was a side of him I'd never seen before, and it was arousing. I pressed my body into him and reached up to kiss him. "If I don't get you first," I growled, throwing down the gauntlet.

He grabbed my upper arms and held me while we kissed deeply. I could feel my teeth on my lips as I drove my tongue in and out of his mouth. His hand covered my tit and kneaded through my t-shirt and bra. He pinched my nipple, almost painfully, and I moaned into his mouth in pain and pleasure and arched, pushing my tit into his hand.

Suddenly, he set me away from him. "Seems we have discovered something about one another today." He smiled.

What is the saying, I thought... Still, the water runs deep.

It was a whole different atmosphere between us after that. He began to take liberties with my body, as did I with his. We both knew it was erotic foreplay leading up to rough and wild sex.

His son was always much more passive, and now I understand that he takes after his mom. With the right encouragement, I found his father to be the opposite. He turned into the aggressor, which allowed me the same. We had no limitations or boundaries. Yet. I was learning what I could tolerate, and it was much more than I'd ever dreamed.

They say there is a fine line between pain and pleasure. I would know it when I got there. I always liked rough sex but hadn't had it since I married. Stede was the largest man I'd ever been with, and even that was exciting. A big enough man to give me what I could tolerate. But I held no illusions that I could take it to whips and a bondage room.

One morning, he walked in the door, lifted me off the floor, and kissed me. Hard and deep. I hung on and took it deeper and harder. I was only about three inches shorter than Stede. I was a big girl with big tits and a big ass. He appreciated that and the fact I was no shrinking violet. I expected a bruise or two before it was over... Strictly from active sex and not abuse.

We began to play an erotic game of who would break the first. He insisted I have a safe word in case he got out of control in our play. I knew that would never happen, but I agreed to it. Our work in the house went more slowly because we liked the tease too much.

I was on the stepladder painting, and I felt his hands on my hips, easing my shorts down. I leaned on the top step and pushed my ass out, mostly bare because I wore a thong.

"Oh baby, this ass has been driving me crazy," he murmured. He rubbed circles and began to knead each round globe. I felt his beard and mustache right before he started taking nips. He nipped, soothed with a brush of his mustache, and then a harder nip. I leaned on the top of the stepladder and held on. I felt the sting and cried out more from the shock of the smack on my ass than any pain.

"Mmmm, you like this," he stated. "Is this making you wet?" He soothed my ass with his hand, then suddenly another swat. It went into my pussy like a jolt of electricity, and I could feel my wetness. His lips ran over my ass cheeks, then he stopped and started to slide my shorts up.

"Leave them." I let them fall to the floor. I would work the rest of the day wearing just my thong. I moved to the first step and turned. He stood there with his hands on my hips, only now he was facing my tits.

"I've been watching these tits bouncing around bare under your shirt all morning," he said, looking at my nipples poking through the thin knit in his direction. "You like teasing me, don't you?"

He opened his mouth, covered my nipple, and sucked it and my shirt into his mouth. The shirt was the only thing between his teeth and my skin when he tugged them longer and harder. My fingers wove into his silver curls, and I gripped, holding his head to me. He groaned and growled as his teeth worked on my nipples. My breath whistled through my clenched teeth as I arched, trying to shove more of my tit into his talented mouth.

He backed off. The wet white knit was transparent and clung to my hard nipple. He resisted when I pulled his head towards me because I needed more. He looked into my eyes as his big hand slipped under my shirt and over my other breast. He palmed my nipple hard. My tongue flicked across my lips, and he glanced down briefly. He began to knead my breast methodically.

"Tell me," he said, knowing by the look in my eyes.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. The rhythmic squeezing was intense and pulled at my cunt every time he did it. The narrow strip of my thong was soaked, and I could smell my sex. I held his head and gave him hard-biting kisses. He pinched my nipple, and I cried out in his mouth, the pain and the pleasure all blurring into one.

"More," I breathed.

He wrapped his arms around my middle and lifted me off the ladder. "Not now, baby, not now." I was angry and frowned, not wanting the game to end. "Each day is one more step we are taking into the unknown. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather be on this discovery trip than you."

Later he said, "Your ass is still pink from your spanking."

"My fat ass, you mean?" I laughed, but he got serious.

"No, don't ever say that again. A real man appreciates everything about a woman: big, small, short, or tall. The others don't matter, so don't listen to them. Your ass is perfect, and I have plans for it," he grinned.

"Ahhhhh," I purred.

We just finished lunch the next day, and his wife called from South Africa. He put it on speaker, and I started to run out of the kitchen, but he caught me by the waist, set me on the counter, and tugged my thong off. He spread my thighs wide, exposing my smooth shaved pussy lips as she went on at length about how fulfilling their missionary work was there, how she found peace, that she was sorry she had to leave him alone. He tugged the soft, wet flesh between his teeth. Throughout, he replied with 'uh huh.'

"Don't worry about me, Betsy," he said, pulling my t-shirt over my head and baring my breasts. "I'm doing fine." He kissed up my stomach to my breasts and nipped each hardened nipple. "I have a special project I'm working on and am busy with that." I stifled a moan.

"I'm so glad to hear that, Stede," she said, somewhat quizzical. "Is it a project around the house?"

He sucked off my nipple with a loud pop. "Nope, nothing like that."

"What was that noise?"

"Just a juicy peach I'm eating. Jill keeps them around for me because she knows how much I love a dripping sweet peach." He bit my nipple and shoved two fingers into my dripping peach. I hissed through my teeth.

"Okay, well, I'm glad Jill takes such good care of you. I'm sure she misses Andrew. You can take care of her as well. I won't worry about you two so much. Andrew will be glad to hear you both are getting on. The rest of this year will go by fast," Betsy said.

He was driving his fingers in and out of my tight cunt. "Yeah, Jill and I are taking care of each other. You both have no worries there. I was biting my lip between my teeth to keep from crying out. Although I wasn't sure, that's what Stede was trying to do.

As I reached the pinnacle, Stede said, "Betsy, I have to run. Jill needs my help on something."

"Okay, bye," she said, barely getting it in before he cut her off. Had he taken an extra second to cut the connection, she'd have heard my screams from the hard-driving orgasm her husband was giving me.

"Oh my, you are bad like a pirate," I murmured as he went back to latch on my tit again. "Mmmm," I moaned. "So bad." I clutched his head to my tit. "Playing with me while you talked to her was wild."

"You seemed to enjoy it," he smirked.

Oh, I did. I most certainly did. This man could make me savage for him with a look. No one had ever done it for me like Stede.