What Mother-In-Law Wants...bysoldierboy50401©
We'd been looking to move to the country for years and finally getting out of the city. Having grown up on a farm, I wanted my children to be able to have the same experience I did. My wife, Clarissa, and I had finally found the perfect acreage that we could afford. The house was a big old farmhouse with 5 bedrooms and a wrap around porch. It would definitely need some work over the coming years but it was at least livable, unlike many of the other small acreages, ranchettes and farms we had looked at. The outbuildings were usable, too, and there would be plenty of room for us to have horses, which we had always dreamed of.
Things got kind of hairy as the acreage received a competing offer the same week we finally got an offer on our current house. We ended up accepting an offer on our own house for about $10,000 less than we were asking, but enough for us to still make out okay. We thought the acreage was gone for good, but at the last second, the financing fell through on the competing offer and we were able to get the home of our dreams!
Everything seemed to kick into high gear after that and Clarissa and I would be constantly busy working on the house, the outbuildings and the grounds of the acreage. We never seemed to lack for anything to do - painting, fixing fences, working on the house. Every night, when we head to bed, we are extremely tired and worn out. We haven't watched more than about 2-3 hours of television total since we moved to the farm. Our two boys, Nicholas and Jacob, were equally thrilled with life on the farm and actively explored the woods and wildlife.
I work full-time as a Deputy Sheriff in the county we live in. I had previously worked as a police officer in the largest town in our county, which has a population of about 30,000 people. I got tired of being confined to the city limits and wanted to get my family out of the city. A former officer I worked with eventually ran for Sheriff of Mason County and won. When an opening on his department came up, I applied and become one of his Deputies, which meant that I could now live anywhere within the county. My new job gave us the opportunity to move to the country.
My wife and her mother, Caroline, are very close and speak on the phone for at least an hour every day, even longer if they actually have something important to talk about. To say that Caroline was having a rough year would be a gross understatement. Caroline had been married for the past 5 years to her husband, Dale. Dale was husband number five for Caroline. We all had hopes that Dale would finally be the man that she would spend the rest of her life with. But about a year ago, things changed when Dale turned 60. No one could really seem to figure out what was going on, but things between Caroline and Dale became very strained.
It wasn't long before we were given the news that Dale had moved out of the house and into the home of his girlfriend, who was younger than me and just a couple years older than my wife. I'm 37 and my wife is 31. Caroline just turned 52 and was absolutely devastated at being left for another woman, especially for one so much younger who had young children of her own.
Later that year, Caroline's own father passed away suddenly and her mother's health was failing from emphysema and a recent diagnosis of lung cancer.
With a looming divorce on the horizon, it soon became apparent that things were going to get financially difficult for Caroline, thus prompting her to ask if we would care for her horses. Our kids were thrilled with this idea and the three horses, two quarter horses and a palomino, were welcomed to our farm quite happily.
My wife, Clarissa, had been having some issues of her own lately. She had become very moody, had a noticeable lack of energy at certain times, and her sexual appetite had taken an absolute nose dive. Since our boys are ages 12 and 9, it certainly wasn't any kind of postpartum depression.
Clarissa had made an appointment with her personal doctor who had given her a physical and run a battery of other tests, thinking it could be anything from early menopause to ovarian cancer. It turned out to be neither of those, thank goodness.
What it did turn out to be, however, was a condition known as low testosterone. Apparently, even women's bodies need a fair amount of testosterone to run properly. Without it, it leads to the host of symptoms that I mentioned earlier.
The problem was that my wife is a total freak when it comes to cooking only natural foods and using as many homemade remedies and herbal medicines as possible. She only takes prescription medication when she absolutely has to. Want a Coca-Cola to drink? Good luck finding it in our fridge!
Clarissa chastises me for my soda habits on a weekly, if not occasionally daily basis. I'm not a coffee drinker at all. Anyone who is a law enforcement officer (I hate the word "cop"), EMT or firefighter knows that caffeine is often a necessity to get through a long shift.
As a result, Clarissa refused to take any of the prescription medications that her doctor recommended to help with the Low-T. She was given various options of long-acting shots, topical creams or oral varieties, but she would have none of them. She researched it on the internet and has been trying a variety of herbal and home remedies, none of which seem to be having much success.
I wouldn't say that the situation was killing our marriage, but the lack of physical intimacy certainly wasn't doing us any favors, either. We had our share of talks and arguments over the past few months about it. I had hoped the move to the farm would help recharge our intimacy, but no such luck so far. Clarissa says this is something she needs to do on her own and my pressuring her for sex isn't helping her. She is sure she will eventually find the magic recipe to cure her issue, but my begging for sex isn't it.
I wouldn't say that I've been begging, but I have certainly been dropping plenty of hints and suggestions. Once every few weeks, Clarissa will give in and accommodate me, but it is usually forced and completely devoid of any passion we once shared. As such, it feels scripted, mundane and I am left with the feeling that Clarissa is just scratching another item off her "to-do" list. Our sex life has become completely vanilla and unfulfilled.
A couple of weeks ago, Clarissa' mother called and asked if we could use a hay feeder so that we could feed the large round bales of hay to the horses instead of the smaller square bales. The benefit is that we would have to feed them a lot less often as the bales are much bigger. But you need a round bale feeder, which is essentially a metal cage, that prevents the horses from kicking the hay all around and allows them to more evenly feed from the bale and creates less wasted hay. We said we could definitely use the feeder and Caroline said she would bring it by the following weekend.
I've never really thought much of Caroline in a sexual way. Sure, she is a good-looking woman for her age, I always thought. I guess I had always seen her as a mother-figure and not someone I would really consider having for myself. Caroline was definitely a cowgirl at heart and lived her life that way. It was probably why her personal life was having such an effect on her, knowing that she would most likely eventually lose her own acreage and her horses.
Caroline's daily work habits and riding habits definitely kept her in good shape. She is about 5'6, trim, with a decently proportional bust size, probably about a "c" cup. She constantly wore a straw Stetson hat, colorful brush popper shirts, a pair of tight Wranglers with a huge rodeo buckle and her most comfortable riding boots. She looked every bit the part of the rodeo queen and played it to the hilt.
Caroline arrived at our small farm with the bale feeder on her own horse trailer and I agreed to help her set it up. Clarissa came along to help out for a bit, but eventually left to go back in the house to check on the boys and to make lunch.
The easiest way to assemble the feeder, which came in four sections, was for me to lift two sections and place them end-to-end while Caroline fitted the bolts in place and secured them. It was awkward as I lifted the sections and Caroline knelt down to secure the bolts. She was on her knees and, occasionally, her shoulder or forearm and even her head would occasionally gently bump me right in the crotch. Not enough to hurt, but enough to feel it. I couldn't help but feel strangely awkward with Caroline's head right next to my crotch. With no warning at all, I started to sport an erection right then and there, which only became bigger and firmer each time she would accidentally bump me.
Every once in a while, I thought I could see Caroline steal a glance at my crotch, which now revealed the unmistakable bulge of my rampant erection. I was still holding the steel feeder up above her head and if I dropped it, she would definitely be hurt. There was no way I could muscle it out of the way to avoid her if I started to drop it, so I was definitely stuck where I was.
The next thing I knew, Caroline put down the wrench she was using and just knelt there staring at my crotch. I was holding up over 200 pounds of metal right over her head.
"Are you okay, Caroline?" I asked.
She just stayed there, silent and slowly shook her head.
"Is something wrong?" I queried again.
Caroline said nothing. Suddenly, she reached for my belt buckled, unfastened it and quickly yanked down the zipper.
I could barely muster a gasp when she pulled down the elastic waste band of my boxer shorts and my now erect penis nearly hit her in the face as she freed it from its denim prison.
"Caroline, what the hell are you doing?" I stammered. "Jesus! Clarissa's in the house! She could be out here any second!"
Caroline said nothing as she gripped the shaft with her hand and tenderly and lovingly stroked me. It felt so good that I was sure my knees were going to buckle.
"Caroline, I'm telling you! I can't hold this feeder up forever and if I drop it, it is going to hurt you," I pleaded.
"It's okay, Patrick," she whispered. "It isn't going to take that long."
"Caroline, I......ohhhhhhh," was all I could say as she expertly took me into her mouth. Her lips were soft and moist and she sucked and licked on my swollen member with an expertise I had never experienced before. She was right. If she kept this up, it definitely wasn't going to last long!
Suddenly, I thought of the fact that it was a warm day and I had been working outside all morning. I was pretty sure my crotch probably smelled like a bum's nut sack, but Caroline didn't seem to care in the least. She pulled my boxers down a little further with her free hand and pulled my swollen balls out and tenderly stroke them. The dual sensation of having my cock stroked and sucked with my balls being caressed was absolutely out-of-this world!
I'm not a huge man by any means. But I'm not exactly small, either. I'm about 6 and 1/2 inches erect, although I was pretty sure I was closer to 7 inches as Caroline expertly worked my phallus, occasionally spitting on it to provide a little more lube. She tenderly gripped on my scrotum and gave a slight downward tug on the boys, which sent me into overdrive.
I hadn't even masturbated in over a week, so I knew that my testicles were swollen. As I said, I'm not a particularly huge man but no woman I had ever been with in my life had ever taken me in their mouth balls deep. The next thing I knew, Caroline's nose was rubbing my pubic hair with each thrust of her head and mouth and the feeling was more than I could take.
I started to feel a dull ache in my groin and knew that I was about to blow a massive load. I started to pull back trying to pull out of Caroline's mouth, but she furiously grabbed my buttocks and pulled me toward her while she ferociously swallowed me balls-deep. I experienced an unbelievable release and knew that I had never blown a load that big in my life. Caroline took every drop that she possibly could as wave after wave and spurt after spurt was released into her mouth. A small drip of my load trickled out of her nose, something I had never ever seen before.
Caroline slowly pulled her head away, gradually releasing my spent manhood from her mouth. As my cock was almost all the way out, she locked her lips around the swollen head and gave one last good and hard suck before letting me go. The sensation took me by surprise and I immediately released two more spurts of cum which landed on Caroline's face and a quarter-sized glob on her shirt.
"Oh, shit! I'm sorry," I breathlessly sputtered.
"That's okay," she said and immediately stood up and walked away. "That's the last of the bolts. The feeder should be ready to go," Caroline said as she walked out of the corral and headed back to her trailer.
I dropped the damned bale feeder to the ground and clumsily grasped at my boxers and jeans to try and get myself back in order. I tucked my dick back in, zipped up and buckled and followed Caroline. Panicked, I looked around to see if any of the kids were outside or if Clarissa had seen anything.
Looking towards the house, I could see Clarissa through the kitchen window busily making lunch. The boys must still be inside, too, and I followed Caroline back to the house.
We both headed into the kitchen and I could see the boys in the living room playing video games.
Thank God! It didn't seem like anyone saw anything.
"You guys sure took your time finishing," Clarissa said. Her tone of voice was fairly upbeat and playful. Turning from the stove, she looked at me and said, "How come you're so out of breath? It wasn't that tough of a job, was it?" She smiled as she said it, which helped calm me for a second before Caroline opened her mouth.
"We had a problem with a couple of nuts," Caroline said as she sat down to a fresh cup of coffee. "But I eventually got the problem licked," she replied as she picked up the newspaper on the table.
I could feel the color rushing out of my face as she said it. Not five minutes ago Caroline had the entire length of my penis in her warm, inviting mouth and now she was sitting at my kitchen table in front of her own daughter making jokes about it.
The rest of lunch passed with no more veiled innuendos and Clarissa and Caroline visited almost the entire time. My head was spinning the entire time and I don't think I said two words. I just sat there eating my chicken salad sandwich and tried to avoid making eye contact.
I feigned reading the newspaper as though I was the typical husband disinterested in all the girl talk. And yet, I couldn't get my mind away from the amazing and shocking experience I had just had. I had never received such an amazing blow job in my entire life and I would never have suspected that one like that could come from my Mother-In-Law. My testicles and groin still ached from the strength and severity with which I had ejaculated. That was also something new for me.
Caroline left mid-afternoon. I struggled to try and figure out what it meant. I was filled with so many feelings - shock, euphoria, guilt and shame. I felt like I had been taken advantage of and I felt dirty and shamed. Caroline had taken advantage of me in a situation where I absolutely couldn't resist without the possibility of accidentally hurting her. Or was I just too stunned and turned on and FAILED to resist? I'll admit that I had been getting an erection beforehand, but was that just a natural response? Or did Caroline know what she was doing and take advantage of me anyway? I started to experience the same feelings that a victim of date rape feels, especially the ones where a victim didn't really consent but didn't really say no, either.
The whole problem for me was the intense sexual feelings I was having over the whole incident. I couldn't think of what Caroline did to me that day without sporting a massive erection just thinking about it. But I also knew that I had violated my marriage vows and couldn't help but feel guilty because of it. There was no way that Clarissa would ever buy my excuse that it happened without my permission. I also knew that there was no way she wouldn't think that her mother wasn't the victim.
Life went on as much as it could. I worked my regular schedule of 6 days and then got three days in a row off. I was fortunate enough to be assigned a 7 to 3 shift, which meant that I could take my lunch breaks at home with my family and be home in time for evening dinner. Meal times these days are definitely a lot lighter in conversation than they used to be. Clarissa, I'm sure, suspected that it was due to the fact that it had now been several weeks since we had had sex and that I was probably just sulking and pouting about it.
That was certainly true, to an extent. I missed my wife and the way she used to be. I wouldn't really consider us to be a hot and heavy couple, sexually, even from the beginning. We had a nice sex life and generally made love 2 or 3 times a week prior to the onset of Clarissa's symptoms.
But mostly, I was just stuck in neutral over what had happened between Caroline and I. To make matters worse, when I came home from my last shift before my scheduled 3 days off, Clarissa greeted me with some unexpected news.
I walked in the front door of the house, went to the living room closet and pulled out my gun safe. I punched in the combination, opened it, and secured my service pistol, a Sig Sauer .40 caliber semi-automatic.
After making sure my sidearm was secured, I walked into the kitchen where Clarissa had already started supper. The smell of the evening meal, good old-fashioned roast beef, was permeating the house and my stomach was already growling.
"Hey, babe?" she quizzed. "Do you have anything scheduled for tomorrow?" She was just getting ready to add the baby carrots and potatoes to the crock pot.
"Um, no, not really," I said collapsing into one of the kitchen chairs. It had been a rather bad day with a nasty stabbing. Unusual that something like that would happen on the day shift and a very messy one at that. The victim was not expected to survive.
"I lined up a sitter for the boys tomorrow. Your sister agreed to watch them." My interest peaked as I hoped that maybe she was planning a romantic getaway for us. But my heart sank as she continued. "I'm going to head up north to the cities tomorrow with Sherry and several other girls for a weekend shopping trip. It has been months since I've had a day or two to myself and I hoped you wouldn't mind. This was the only weekend we could all get together," she finished.
Damn. Clarissa was right about one thing - I did owe her the time. She is a full-time mom who home schools both of our kids and it is a very rare occasion, other than grocery shopping, where she gets any time to herself. So, I felt like I definitely owed her some time off.
"Yeah, that would be fine. I know you need some time to yourself, but why not just leave the boys with me?" I asked. I wasn't prepared for the answer.
"My mom called early this morning just as I was starting home school with the boys. She asked if she could borrow you for the weekend to help her with some projects over at her place."
I damned near choked on the glass of water I was drinking. What the fuck do I say now? I can't just say no. If I refuse to help her mother, Clarissa is going to want to know why. Normally, I'm a terrific liar. I have to do it a lot in my job to put a potential criminal at ease to make them think they're not in trouble while I try to weasel information out of them. But when it comes to my wife? Forget it! Clarissa can read me like a book and can smell a lie like a fart in a car. As long as I keep my mouth shut, I'm usually fine. She'll think I just clam up like any other man. But if I start talking, she's gonna detect my bullshit instantly. That's just how she's wired.