"Oh my God," I muttered as I slowly sat up in my bed. The room refused to stay still and the vague but constant pounding in my head reminded me of the bottle of wine I'd had last night. Or was it bottles?
"Never again," I promised as I slowly made my way out of bed, feeling there was something important I ought to remember but not quite sure what it was...
My wife was still at the conference halfway across the country, so it wasn't something concerning her. And I'd just had a quiet evening in with my mother-in-law, Molly. As I slowly got up and made my way to the bathroom, bits and pieces came back to me. The flirtatious way, we'd talked and laughed. Her constantly keeping my glass full. That tight silk-blouse that beckoned my eyes to her more than generous bust. Her warm eyes that seemed to caress me whenever she looked at me.
As I splashed cold water in my face, a new image struck me: Me holding her warm, soft body against mine, her wonderfully sweet lips meeting my own in a long, intense, soul-warming kiss.
"My God!" I exclaimed and stared at myself in the mirror. What the hell had happened?! Had I kissed Molly? "What the..." I began when something struck me and I hurried back to the bedroom, headache and grogginess completely forgotten. I was wide awake as I stepped back into the room I'd shared with my wife for the last five years and saw the rumbled bed. My side was naturally in a complete disarray - the proof of a night's tossing and turning after too much alcohol - but so was Christie's! My wife was a dutiful woman, and she'd most certainly not left her bed in such a chaotic state.
"Wait..." I muttered, more and more worried as the unmade bed sparked yet another image: Molly on all fours, grasping the sheet, her neck and back arched beautifully as she cried out in agonizing bliss.
And me? I was... I was behind her, holding her softly rounded hips while I...
"Fuck!" I gasped. It had happened. I'd cheated on my wife. With her mother.
Dear Lord, I was scum.
--
She was setting the table when I staggered down the stairs. Despite my noisy entrance, she didn't notice me at first, just went about her business of preparing the morning meal while gently humming to herself.
Humming? How the hell could she be humming after we'd... well, okay, maybe that was a good reason to hum, but still! She'd betrayed her own daughter! I'd betrayed her daughter. What was wrong with us?
"Oh hey, Rick," she smiled when she finally noticed me. Her smile was brilliant - gone was the gloomy woman that had lived with us for the past two months since her rat of a husband had traded her in for a younger model. Younger, but far from prettier... guess some men really need to convince themselves they aren't getting older. She'd put on make-up - just like last night - and it made her ten years younger and extremely attractive. Or maybe it was just the way she smiled and walked and just radiated happiness.
She was wearing a thin, purple silk-shirt - how did I know it was thin? I could see her darker bra through the flimsy material. She'd buttoned juuust enough buttons to make it respectable, but too few to hide the wonderful cleavage that immediately drew my eyes.
The grey skirt reached a little higher than her knees but despite its respectable length, it would have been a great deal more appropriate if it hadn't clung to her every curve. Her dark stockings made me think about the ones she'd worn last night with that sexy, little garter-belt. It'd been like something out of a wet dream - I mean, what kind of women wear garter-belts? Only the sexy ones...
Ehm..." I muttered, my tongue suddenly feeling too big for my mouth - and not just because of the wine from last night, "I..."
"Come! Sit down. I made you breakfast," she smiled, grabbed my hand and led me to the chair. Her hand was cool and soft, and it felt like a small spark of electricity went through me where she touched me. I was so busy with the strangely erotic feeling of her hand that I didn't notice that she'd seated me at the head of the table. Normally, my wife and I sat next to each other on the bench next to the wall and Molly across from us, but today I sat at the head... like a king, or at the least the head of the family.
"Listen, Molly," I tried again, doing my best to summon up a little resistance but most of my willpower went to not looking down her blouse. Her boobs were so big and tempting, and my blurred memory kept feeding images of me touching them, groping them, kissing them... biting them!
"I didn't know what you wanted, so I made eggs and bacon, and a few sandwiches. And cereal, of course," she rambled, standing right next to me, bent over slightly, her big, wonderful tits right at eye-level. While one hand gestured to the various items of food she'd prepared, the other was casually caressing my back in a much too intimate way. It was the way a lover would touch her man, or the way Christie touched me. My mother-in-law shouldn't touch me like that - and her touch should most certainly not feel as good as it did!
"Molly, we-" I began, knowing this had to stop but she cut me off.
"Shh..." she shushed me and gently pressed a well-manicured finger against my lips, "it's okay, Rick."
"No, it's not! It's-"
"Yes, it is. I know what you're thinking, but we need this, we do. We both do. A man like you needs a woman to take care of him, to be there for him, and I'll be that woman for you. And I... I need a reason to get out of bed in the morning, to not just disappear into the shadows. You'll be my reason!" she said earnestly, making me pause. It was true that since my dear asshole of a father-in-law had left, she'd more or less given up on life. For a woman who'd always been vibrant and beautiful, it had been horrible to watch her fall apart.
But even so...
"But Christie," I objected but was quickly cut off again.
"Isn't here!" she said forcefully and leaned closer in to me before she continued in a softer tone: "I am, and you are. That's all that matters..."
Oh God, she smelled good. I knew I shouldn't notice that but I did, she was so close and I couldn't help it.
"I want you," she all but whispered to me, her lips coming closer and closer, while I just sat there, motionless, unable to stop this horribly wonderful thing, "you're such a wonderful man. Sweet, caring... handsome. I just want to make you... happy..."
And with that she finally pressed her ruby-red lips against my own. The kiss was soft, sweet and seemed to go on for hours, until she opened her mouth slightly and her little tongue assaulted my closed mouth. I didn't even pause to think, I simply opened up for her, and suddenly she was frenching me like there was no tomorrow. The worst part though? I liked it. It felt really good, and soon I was returning the favour, my tongue dancing with hers and my hand placing itself on her shoulder, gently massaging her and letting her know how much I enjoyed the attention.
"Mhm... so niiice," she murmured when she broke the kiss, her beautiful, blue eyes staring into mine. I didn't notice the crowfeet that hinted that she was past her first prime, all I saw was the desire, the need... the hope. While one hand was gently cradling my face, the other moved down south and reached the lump in my pants. With a lustful smile, she stroked it, ever-so-slowly, her long nails running along the shaft.
This was clearly moving in the wrong direction - I'd come down to apologise for what had happened, and now I was getting felt up by my sexy mother-in-law again!
Get out of here! Just get up and leave! Get up! Get up, damn you! my brain screamed at me, but unfortunately the only thing that obeyed was my dick that quickly rose under her careful ministrations.
"So nice and big," Molly sighed but before I had a chance to respond, she was kissing me again... and I must admit, I didn't mind it quite so much this time. As if trying to demonstrate how okay I was with all of this, my hand ran down her shoulder and cupped her massive boob. Big, round, soft, it felt wonderful, and soon both my hands were busy groping her tits and pinching her nipples through her bra.
"Ahh..." she sighed into my mouth and increased the pressure on my cock that was reaching its full size fast. Her nimble fingers soon got my pants open and pulled my hard tool out. It stood up from my open zipper like a mast on a ship - a veiny, fleshy mast that got jerked off by a middle-aged woman's beautiful hands.
Suddenly, she stood up, quickly pulled down the zipper in her form-fitting skirt and pulled it down as well. She had to wiggle her well-rounded hips in a highly seductive manner to get it down (and trust me that did not weaken my iron-hard dick!) but soon she stood in front of me wearing only a slutty garter-belt-stockings combination and pumps from the waist down.
"Oh God," I muttered, knowing full well what was going to happen and how wrong it was - but looking at my mother-in-law's half-naked body, I knew I had no chance of stopping it from happening. I didn't want to stop it! My cock quivered, ordering me to forget those stupid notions altogether and just enjoy what was offered.
"You like?" she asked with a suggestive smile and spread her legs a little further, giving me a better look at her naked beaver - and I do mean naked. There wasn't a single hair on her pink slit, nothing to obstruct my view at all.
Compared to my wife's hairy bush, this was immensely arousing... everything was put out in the open for me to enjoy instead of hidden behind a thick mane of hair.
"Yeah," I muttered and swallowed nervously. I shouldn't have said that, I shouldn't encourage... this... her. But the smile she sent me in reply was so beautiful, so happy, so sexy that my heart skipped a beat, and I was glad I had made her smile like that. And even gladder that it was directed at me. So wrong...
Her smouldering eyes was staring into mine, captivating my soul as she stepped back up to my chair, swung one leg over mine and sat down on my lap. Once again her face was frighteningly close to mine, her lips basically in kissing-range, and I had to fight the temptation again - not that I really believed I could.