My Mother-in-Law Hates Me

"What's she done now?"

"Nothing," was my quick response, but I could tell that he didn't believe me. However, Brad, my best friend since we were knee-high to a grasshopper, because he was such a nice person, let it go. And he then did his best to cheer me up. Two hours later, when I left the Red Lion, our favourite watering hole, I was in a much better mood. That was because of Brad's good company, but also because of the amount of beer that I'd consumed. I was a seasoned drinker, one who knows their limit, so even though I'd drunk a lot, I was still only tipsy.

It was a balmy night, so I decided to walk home rather than take a taxi. With a brisk pace I could be home in under forty minutes, but I was going to take my time. I was going to enjoy the journey.

And I was enjoying it. I even stopped to look up at the sky so that I could gaze at the stars. It felt good to be alive. Then I thought about her, and what she'd said. That dampened my good mood. Why did she have to be such a fucking bitch?

She'd arrived as I was about to leave. Unexpected, and as always, to see her Daughter rather than me. But because Lizzy was in the shower, she was forced to spend some time alone with me. I was OK with that, but it soon became apparent that she wasn't. And she was making no attempt to hide it.

"I'll make you a nice coffee."

From most people, that would have got me a thanks, or perhaps a smile. But from my Mother-in-law there was nothing. I took my time preparing it so that it would be just as she likes it. When I handed it to her, she took one look at it, and then she handed it straight back to me.

"I like it in a cup not a mug."

Since when? I've seen her drink from a mug on numerous occasions without complaining. However, I wasn't going to make an issue of it. I even apologised. If a cup was what she wanted, then she can have one. After getting one from the cupboard, I carefully poured the coffee into it. What was leftover I would drink.

"Enjoy."

But she didn't drink it, she again gave it back to me.

"It's chipped."

I examined it. It was, though on the side rather than on the rim. And it was minuscule. So small, that most people would never have noticed it, and even if they had, it wouldn't have stopped them drinking from the cup. She was just being difficult. That was something she was good at.

I was about to try again, when she said, "Don't bother. You're no good at making coffee. I'll wait until Lizzy comes down. She can make me one."

That wasn't just spiteful, it was untrue. However, I could be the better person, so I let it pass.

"I'm going to see Brad, do you mind if I leave you on your own until Lizzy has finished in the shower?"

Apparently, that wasn't worthy of an answer, so I just got a scowl, and a dismissive gesture from her hand that told me that I should go.

As I was leaving, she couldn't resist insulting me even more.

"Such a disappointment."

I didn't take her up on it, even though it was a nasty thing for her to say. She might be a bitch, but she was also a clever woman. If I was to question her about it, she'd say that she was referring to the coffee, but we both knew that it was aimed at me. According to her, I wasn't good enough for her precious Daughter, even though I was a successful businessman earning lots of money.

When I got home Lizzy was asleep. Snoring loudly. And if I didn't want to experience her displeasure then I needed to make sure that I didn't wake her while getting into bed. That was going to be difficult because she was a light sleeper. Thankfully though, I managed to do it.

In the morning, as we usually do, we had breakfast together. It's when we relax before we have to leave for work. The perfect start to the busy day that both of us will be having.

"Mother popping round last night was a nice surprise."

It might have been for her, but it definitely wasn't for me. However, I just said, "Yes it was." And while saying it I even managed a smile.

Regarding her Mother, Lizzy believes that I'm mistaken. That she is pleased that I married her Daughter. Pointing out that she is always nice to me. And she is, until we are alone. That's when I see her true feelings. Now, to avoid an argument, I keep it to myself. Hoping, that eventually our relationship will change. That she will start to like me. Though being honest with myself, that's just wishful thinking!

-

"I don't know what to do. Since she split up with Jeremy two months ago, it's as if her mission in life is to constantly humiliate me. And she is very good at it."

I wasn't just hoping to get some sympathy from Brad, I was expecting it, but what I got instead was criticism. And he wasn't holding back.

"It's your own fault, you need to grow a pair. Just tell it to her straight, that's she's a bitch, and you're not going to put up with it anymore. You're a man not a mouse."

"Thanks a lot. You're supposed to be my friend."

He was the best friend that any man can ever have. However, that didn't mean that he was always right. I understood why he'd said it, and if she wasn't my Mother-in-law then I'd take his advice. Venting my anger on Victoria would give me instant gratification, but that fleeting pleasure would come with a heavy price. She'd tell her Daughter about it, and then, until I'd profusely apologised several times for my outrageous behaviour, I'd be in the doghouse. Sleeping in the spare bedroom and no sex.

"What about killing her? I'll help you dispose of the body."

And he would, because he was that good a friend. I was now imagining all the different ways that I could kill her. And whilst doing it, I was smiling. Brad let me savour the moment before speaking again.

"Or you could win her over by being extra kind to her. But you're going to have to put a lot of effort into it, and it's not going to be a quick fix. It would be a marathon not a sprint. And there's no guarantee that it would work."

At last, a sensible suggestion. One that was worth considering. One that might actually be successful.

-

"Let me take your coat."

That surprised her, so much, that after handing it to me she forgot to scowl. What I got from her instead was almost a smile. But when I told her that Lizzy was out, and wouldn't be back for at least another hour, she wasn't pleased.

"You can make me a coffee."

Said without a please. It was a command rather than a request. I was happy to do it, but this time was she actually going to drink it? This time she did, and without complaining. So far so good. Time to start my charm offensive.

"I like your handbag, Is it new?"

At first, she was sceptical, not believing what I'd said, but then her expression changed. She smiled. A genuine one that was full of warmth.

"I bought it last week. I'm pleased that you like it."

"Another coffee, and what about a biscuit?"

"Just the coffee. I need to watch my weight."

"Don't be silly, you're in great shape."

That was over the top, and even though she must know that, hearing me say it had obviously pleased her. She was fifty six years old, well past her prime, but despite that, she was still an attractive woman. However, she was carrying a few extra pounds, especially around her waist. Then suddenly, as if a button had been pressed, her demeanour changed. The bitch was back. I had the good sense to stop my little game. I instinctively knew that If I was to continue flattering her, it wasn't going to please her, instead, it would just irritate her.

-

The next time I was with Brad I told him about it, and then I said, "What should I do now?"

"You're asking the wrong person. If I knew more about women then I wouldn't be in such a mess."

That got a wry smile from me. Brad was my age, only thirty, but he was already on his third marriage, and that one, like the other two, was almost certainly going to end in divorce. I didn't feel sorry for him though, because he only had himself to blame. He couldn't keep it in his pants.

"I could get her drunk, that might put her in a better mood."

After mulling it over, he came up with a better suggestion.

"Getting her drunk would be silly. However, a couple of glasses of her favourite wine should do the trick."

-

"You've just missed her. And she's not going to be back until late."

She was now angry with me, and making no attempt to hide it. Her Daughter wasn't home, so that must be my fault.

"Then I'm not going to stay."

"That's a shame. I've got a nice bottle of red wine. You're welcome to stay and have a glass of it with me."

Before she could reply, I was heading towards the kitchen. When I returned I handed it to her. While reading the label her eyes lit up.

"I've changed my mind. I'll stay for one."

She's not a big drinker, but she does like red wine, and she's quite knowledgeable about it. This wasn't cheap plonk. It was expensive, a lot more than I usually pay. I knew that my Mother-in-law would appreciate the quality of it and therefore be eager to try it.

While we drank our first glass together, I was feeling smug. I'd bought the wine two weeks ago, for such an occasion as this, and it was working. When her glass was empty I topped it up. Filling it almost to the rim. I waited until she'd drunk a quarter of it before turning on the charm.

"I like your shoes."

That wasn't even remotely funny. However, surprisingly, it made her laugh. I was confused, but when her laughter had ended I got an explanation.

"Yes, they are stylish, but they're so uncomfortable. I should really throw them away."

"Then take them off."

She did, and that's when I saw an opportunity to get into her good books.

"Your feet must be sore. I'll massage them for you."

The wine had mellowed her, so she didn't need persuading. I was going to massage them while sitting on the floor, but she came up with a better suggestion.

"I'll sit next to you on the sofa, and then I'll put my legs on your lap."

As soon as she was in position I started.

"That's nice, just what my poor feet need."

Occasionally, when circumstances demand it, we hug. But without any real feeling. This was different, there was a genuine connection between us. It was a pleasurable experience for both of us, making me believe that I could really have a better relationship with my Mother-in-law.

"Jeremy used to do this for me but he was never as good as you."

That made me smile. Something that I thought would never happen, a compliment from my arch-enemy!

"And he also did my calves."

I took that as a request. I was right, because when I massaged them she didn't complain.

"I could get used to this."

I had to smile. My Mother-in-law, AKA Queen Bitch, was now putty in my hands.

She stayed for another hour, and as she was leaving she surprised me by giving me a hug. This time it wasn't awkward, in fact, it felt perfectly natural.

Before going to bed I finished off the wine. That should have helped me to sleep, but it didn't. I was restless because I had a lot to think about, and all of it was to do with my Mother-in-law.

The next day I called Brad.

"Fancy a drink tonight, or even a meal at that new Italian? It's got good reviews. We should try it out. I'll pay."

"Sorry, no can do, but tomorrow is OK."

-

I waited until we'd ordered before telling him about the evening with my Mother-in-law.

"I'm pleased for you. Be careful though, that was just the start. Your new relationship is still fragile, it won't take much to break it."

"I know, that's why I want to tell you this."

I then did, and he let me finish before saying anything.

"I can understand your feelings. I'd give her one."

And given the opportunity, he undoubtedly would. He wasn't fussy, for him, it was sufficient that they had a pulse and weren't underage. And having a pulse might even be optional. However, he was missing the point. I'd told him that massaging her feet and calves had excited me. But what I hadn't got across to him, was that I'd actually wanted to act upon it. I'd wanted my hands to go higher up her legs, and just fingering her wouldn't have been enough to satisfy me.

"It took all of my self-control to stop it becoming sexual. I was desperate to fuck her."

"So why didn't you?"

Was he being serious?

"Even if she'd been willing to do it, she's my Mother-in-law. And what about Lizzy? I've never been unfaithful to her."

"Trust me, she was willing. Any woman that puts her legs on your lap and lets you massage them is wanting a lot more than just that from you."

That was silly, she'd only let me do it because her feet were sore.

"And her being your Mother-in-law is a positive not a negative. She'll be as eager to keep it a secret from her Daughter as you are."

Only he could come up with that.

"As for being unfaithful to Lizzy, it's only cheating if you get caught."

That made me laugh, though it shouldn't have.

When I left the restaurant Brad was still at the table, having a conversation with a young pretty waitress. She'd taken a fancy to him, and he was making the most of it. Was she going to be his latest conquest? I wouldn't bet against it!

Brad should have put me straight, agreeing with me that my Mother-in-law was strictly off-limits. That's why I'd gone to see him. To get some sensible advice. Instead, he'd encouraged me to go for it, even making out that it was no big deal.

-

When I told her that Lizzy was upstairs, and that I'd tell her that she was here, her friendly demeanour suddenly changed. Her smile became a frown. Had I done something wrong? I must have, though I couldn't think what it was, because for the hour that she was with us, she ignored me. I couldn't understand it. Perhaps she was just in a bad mood, and that the next time that I saw her we would be friends again. Or was that just wishful thinking?

Later that evening, Brad called me. After listening to what he had to say, I told him about my Mother-in-law.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"What do you mean?"

"The reason for her behaviour. Why she wasn't being friendly."

It might be obvious to him, but it wasn't to me.

"Think about it."

I wasn't in the mood for playing games.

"Please just tell me."

He then did, and it gave me something to think about.

According to Brad, she'd really come to see me, not her Daughter. And she'd wanted it to just be the two of us. Finding out that Lizzy was at home had put her in a bad mood. And of course, being a woman, she'd then blamed me for it. So thankfully, we were still friends, and unless I was mistaken, like me, she wanted our relationship to be more than that!

-

It was a great movie, my all-time favourite, one that I'd seen at least a dozen times. And I was about to watch it again. I was on my own, with a six pack of beer by my side. I couldn't wait for it to start.

Five minutes into it the doorbell rang. I swore under my breath. Whoever was at the door had better not be selling something. Heaven help them if they were.

"Hello James, are you going to invite me in, or are you just going to stand there and stare at me?"

"Sorry, it's just that I was surprised to see you," and then, while making an exaggerated gesture with my hand to usher her in, I said, in my best posh voice, "Please come in."

That made her laugh.

While I made her a coffee, she didn't ask about Lizzy, that was because she already knew that her Daughter wasn't at home. The last time that she was with us, Lizzy had told her about the seminar that she was attending, and that she would be away for the night. Returning the next day. That's why I'd been surprised to see her. But there was also another reason for my surprise. What she was wearing.

Her usual modest attire had been replaced by something that was more revealing. Her top was tight on her, emphasising her ample breasts. There was also a lot of cleavage on display because the top two buttons of her blouse were undone. That in itself had been enough to get me interested, but it was her skirt that had got me excited.

Of course, like all her clothes, it was stylish. However, that wasn't the first thing that I'd noticed about it. That was its length, how short it was. A skirt that was perfect for showing off her long legs, and making you think about her special place. Her pussy.

We were now sitting opposite each other, her on a chair and me on the sofa. Drinking our coffee and making small talk. To a casual observer we were just two people that were talking, but there was more to it than that. We were attracted to each other. Enjoying the sexual tension between us, but wanting more than that. Trying to think of what we could do to turn the spark into a raging inferno.

"You'd think at my age I'd have more sense."

That was too cryptic for me, and I was about to ask her what she meant, but before I could, she told me.

"I'm stupidly wearing those shoes again. My feet are killing me."

I had to smile, she'd deliberately given me an opening, one that I was eagerly going to exploit.

"Take them off and I'll massage your feet."

Like the last time that I'd done it for her, she sat next to me on the sofa, and then she put her legs onto my lap. When I'd finished with her feet I moved my hands up to her calves. It was still completely innocent, but I was starting to get excited as I thought about what was going to happen next.

Soon, when I'd plucked up the courage to act, my touch would become softer. I wouldn't be massaging her legs, I'd be caressing them. Then I'd slowly move my hands up her legs, onto her thighs, and then even higher. Her sweet pussy being the final destination.

Going past her knees felt as if I'd crossed a line. My heart was pounding in my chest and my cock had expanded as best it could within the constraints of my tight jeans.

"Do you have any more of that red wine?"

Then she quickly removed her legs from my lap, ending the brief intimacy between us. I couldn't believe it. I'd been convinced that she wanted me to continue. I was so disappointed.

Despite my low mood, when I handed her the wine I gave her a smile, but it wasn't one of my best ones. After taking it from me she quickly gulped half of it down.

"I needed that."

Then, shortly after, her glass was empty. The second one, while we talked, wasn't rushed. While we chatted, about everything and nothing, my mood changed, I was optimistic again. Unless I was mistaken, she did want us to do it, but because it was such a big step to take she'd got cold feet. The red wine was for Dutch courage.

That was my theory, and because she'd finished her second glass of wine, it was time to test it out.

"If you want me to, I'll do your feet again."

"Thanks, but my feet are OK now."

So I was wrong.

"But what I would like from you is what Jeremy used to give me. That's a relaxing full body massage. Though only if you really want to."

On hearing that, I wanted to shout out, to punch the air with joy, but somehow I managed to restrain myself. My response was to simply say, "I'll be happy to do it."

She was now lying face down on the bed, in just her underwear, and I was standing near to her, ready to start. She'd undressed while I'd been in the room, and for both of us it hadn't been awkward or embarrassing. It was as if it was something that we often did together, rather than the first time that it was. She'd taken her time while she was doing it, giving me the opportunity to admire her body. And I'd made the most of it.

Her bra was small, only just covering her nipples. Pulling it down, so that her heavy breasts would spill out, would be easy. And her little panties would also not be challenging. Getting my fingers inside them, so that I could explore and excite her pussy, would not be difficult. I'd wanted to do all of that, but for now, just looking at her had been enough for me. Lizzy wouldn't be home until tomorrow morning, so we could take our time.