A Warm Welcome Home Ch. 01

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His worst nightmare, his wildest fantasy.
3.1k words
4.22
137.3k
15

Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 10/16/2022
Created 10/03/2003
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I knew that this wasn't going to be something I'd want to repeat anytime soon. Sitting in our room, on the edge of our bed, I couldn't begin to fathom just how this weekend would turn out, but nonetheless, I was destined to carry out this act of courtesy like so many before me have done, and so many after will do. But, now was the time. Now I must face my accusers, which will judge me for a crime I am surely guilty of, yet feel no remorse for. I am guilty of loving their daughter.

"Honey? Are you ready to go?" she screamed up from downstairs. "We're going to be later for dinner!" "Yes Sara. I was just grabbing some aspirin." for the headache I felt coming on far too long. As I went downstairs, I saw here standing there in the foyer like the beauty she has always been. The soft glow caressed her face like a sun's rays accent a cloud. The smile on her lips and look of approval from her eyes was enough to encourage me to do anything.

"I love you Matthew." she says while pressing her body close to me and kissing me so soft, yet with the depth of an ocean chasm. "I love you too baby, with all my heart." I took her in my arms and held her close, longing for a wave of comfort that she had given me so many times before. I could feel her body responding to the touch of my hands. I felt her nipples firming and pressing against my warm chest, throbbing to the beat of my heart. There's no resisting, but to take my tongue and slide it down across her neck, tasting the scent she fills my air with, and inhaling deeply it's sweet...

"MATTHEW, Stop that! We're going to be late." {Sigh}

There was no way I could sit for 4 hours and let the complexity of my thoughts muddle over the countless possibilities that I could encounter on this weekend. I've always thought of myself as someone who was good at doing this. I've always seemed to get a positive response in the past, so why would this be any different? Could it be that we're spending the whole weekend there? I'm subjecting myself to the torture of not having the pleasure of her body for 2 days. Not being able to feel her softness wrapped around me as it was for so long on the night we first met. What person would open themselves to this mental torture? I guess our forefathers never considered meeting her parents as cruel and unusual punishment, or they would have written that into the 8th Amendment. I laid my head upon the rest of the seat, in the hopes of napping through a journey into what was certain to be an unprecedented level of hell.

"What the hell was that?" being ever so rudely awakened.

"The drainage ditch at the bottom of the driveway." she said.

It felt more like a drainage canyon. That's typical among these country driveways, these long dirt roads winding through the trees leading up to a home. Regardless, here we were, pulling up to the house. My heart is pounding harder than the bass from Eminem on the radio talking about hating his mother. How quaintly ironic I thought. I opened the door of the car and began to step out, stretching from being in one position for so long. Standing there, looking at my home for the next two days.

{BUUUUUUUUZZZZOOOOOOMMM} "WHAT IN THE NAME OF!"

"What now?" she said.

"What was that! Some kind of prehistoric mosquito?"

"Haven't you ever seen a hummingbird?"

"Sure, on T.V. I didn't know they doubled as dive bombers though."

She shrugged off the comment and went up to the house, while I got the bags from the car. Following her into the house, I asked where I should drop the bags, and she pointed me to what would be our sanctum for the weekend. I set them down, and proceeded to the bathroom for the only relief I was going to be getting it seemed. I looked at myself in the mirror, splashed some cold water on my face and woke up to the reality of being here. "Well, I may as well make the best of it." I said to myself.

Her stepfather was sitting in the living room watching NASCAR when I came out of the bathroom. He jumped up to greet me.

"Hi, I'm Ronny."

"I'm Matthew. Good to finally meet you." I replied with a well-practiced and diplomatic smile.

As I shook his hand, I gazed at the walls and décor of the home. Clad with pictures of scenes of hunting, and hearing the ever-familiar sounds of the Brickyard in the background, I suddenly realized, this must be the first gate of hell. A wreck on T.V. interrupted our greeting and as he quickly shifted his focus back to racing, he asked

"Do you like NASCAR?"

"I used to live in Indianapolis, and after seeing the Brickyard and being immersed in the culture, it loses its romantic appeal."

He seemed somewhat confused by my review of racing as if I was commenting on some masterpiece of art or opera, and quickly settled back into his elliptic vertigo of horsepower and speed. I looked to Sara who was standing at the kitchen table fiddling with her purse and asked in a whispered tone,

"Smoke?"

She looks to me and points out to the back deck from whence we came in. I flashed her a smile and mouthed, "I love you" as I made my way out back.

Still somewhat asleep from my vehicular slumber, I took in the surroundings and I puffed on what seemed to be the only vice I was allowed. I couldn't even do that in the manner I am accustomed to. As I stare off into the flora and fauna surrounding me, my mind drifts off to a comparison of my life, as it is this instant, with the literature lining the shelves of libraries I've read. The days of losing myself in the writings of W Somerset Maugham return to me while I think of 'The Moon and Sixpence' as he said, "A woman can forgive a man for the harm he does her...but she can never forgive him the sacrifices he makes on her account." Oh those words ring so true to me right now.

Suddenly, my hint of serenity is interrupted as the sliding door opens. I glance back to see who has taken me from this place, and there she stands. As my mind tries to wander back into thought, I am forced to a double take. That which I have dreaded doing for so long was now here in front of me. I could not believe how this was reacting in me. What kind of twisted black hole of Fate was I being sucked into? Many times in my life have Fate and I had our disagreements, and I could tell this was going to be another of them. She impregnates my mind with thoughts of rapture and Hades, and then sends me an angel in the form of an evil minion of morality. As I bite my tongue the bells of Notre Dame ring out louder than ever to Fate, "You heartless BITCH!" Thankfully, I caught myself before saying that aloud.

"Hi there, I'm Sara's mom, Gina." she says with warm southern hospitality.

"Hello Gina, I'm Matthew." Faking a smile was never so hard.

Gina looked to Sara and says in a coy tone of voice, "You were right, he is." and they snicker it off together as if plotting some chaotic cruelty between them.

"Matthew, please, call me Mom." She reaches out and wraps her arms around me for a firm yet friendly hug.

"Ok...Mom." How could I be saying this? How could I be thinking this?

"Honey, Ronny and I are going to run into town to the store. Will you be ok here with Mom?"

In the name of all that is holy and forgiving, I BEG you, please, do NOT leave me alone with this woman.

"Yes baby, I'll be fine."

I rush to kiss her as if to beg her to take me with her. I suddenly feel like a child asking his parent to buy him a toy he as always wanted, or begging for a snack. Anything that would remove me from this situation would be a blessing unlike any other. The gates of St. Peter wouldn't be as welcoming right now.

Sara and Ronny drove off and I'm left watching a trail of dust as if my last hope of survival was just ripped from my grasp. We have all thought about it at some point in time in life, and wondered how we might react in this strange situation. Here I am, literally staring it in the face. As I crush out my butt, and watch it's smoldering ash fade away, I feel as if this is symbolic of my life draining away from me.

We go back in the house and stand in the kitchen as awkward as the statues and pictures of waterfowl that decorate the environment. I feel as if I am standing out like a sore thumb, and should be holding a 12 gauge, clad in hunter orange. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath and sighing with the intensity of the crack of a whip, and move my neck to loosen its muscles. I walk into the living room; sit on the couch, and cross my legs.

"Feel free to watch whatever you like." she says to me while handing me the remote.

"I don't watch much T.V." as I lean my head back a close my eyes.

"Are you ok? Is something wrong?"

Oh, she couldn't have hit that nail any more center if she swung a million times.

"I'm fine. My neck is a little stiff is all. I fell asleep in the car on the way down here and was just in an odd position." Like I'm not in an odd position now.

"Well come here honey, let me work it out for you."

She took my body and with the skill of a wrestler spun me to one side. My eyes sprung open as if a rubber band just snapped. She took her hands and began to manipulate the muscles of my neck and shoulders.

"Really, you don't have to do this, I'll be fine."

"Nonsense. Now sit still and let me take care of you."

I couldn't believe the conflict pouring over me. On one side I it was revolting to feel her hands touching me in a way to release this tenseness. On the other hand, I couldn't say no to her touch. I could tell she was Sara's mother just by her touching me. The softness of her skin, the strength of her grasp, and the comfort of her compassion were as familiar as if I'd known her forever. The ultimate trap of life was being sprung right in front of me, and I walked right into it.

"There now, is that feeling better?"

"Mmmmmm, yes it is, thank you."

She continued to work her hands throughout my neck and shoulders, and soon my body gave in to her touch. No longer could I withstand the pressure of resisting. I felt her hands pull me closer to her body. In no way could I keep from falling back into the familiar touch and feeling. I'd swear it was Sara, in every way imaginable. That's the problem though, what my imagination brought about.

I felt it all. The smoothness of her skin against mine, the warmth of her breath against my neck, the passion of the reality surrounding me. It was all there.

"I'm gonna need to take off your shirt honey to work this one out."

I gasped at the thought of exposing myself to my soon to be Mother-In-Law. The hesitation was quick and unyielding as she quickly took my shirt from the bottom, and pulled it o'er my head. She took one hand and began to work the upper part of my spine. I could feel her fingers tracing each vertebra with the same intensity as her hands on my shoulders.

"Does that feel good?"

"Oh yes, it does." I say in low almost incoherent voice.

"Would you like me to stop?"

OH, what a HELL OF A TIME to ask that question I thought, as the tips of her nails trace my spine and send shivers throughout my body.

"No, please continue."

Her nails began to trace up my spine, over the back of my neck, and up around my ears. She continued by bringing them down my cheeks, under my chin, and over my chest. Pulling me back against her, I found that she had unbuttoned her shirt to expose the skin of her body. Oh, the paradise revealed to me. I could feel the hardness of her nipples in my back through a bra that displayed her tits as if they were a rare treasure.

Her nails lightly caressed my nipples and brought them to a peak. My breathing increased with gasps at her every touch, and my body shivered in anticipation of what may be to come. I turned my body to hers, and gazed into her eyes once again. This look was so much different from the last. Was it the way I was looking at her, or she looking into me. Nevertheless, our mere sight of one another held each other as tight as I wanted her in my arms right this instant.

I leaned closer, and for the first time in my life, my worst nightmare of conscience became my wildest fantasy come true. Her kiss is as intoxicating as Sara's. The softness and subtlety, the passion and desire, the pure conviction behind it guides me to a utopia of pleasure undiscovered in boyhood fantasy.

I brought my hand up from her thighs and began to massage her tits. The lusciously full and perky 42D's stared me in the face. I couldn't believe a woman of her age had tits so incredibly firm. I kissed her deeply still as my hands moved behind her to release them from their shell. As the tension of the bra loosened and it slid from her chest, there sat a testament to perfection. Two of the most beautiful breasts I have seen in my life, and here they are for me to get lost in.

I took my mouth and lowered it to a nipple. As I took the nipple in my mouth and began to suck it, I felt as if life itself was just breathed into my body. Her back arched pressing the erect flesh into my mouth further. A wave of consciousness overtook my body as a whole. I felt every nerve within me come to life. In an instant, my cock throbbed from its flaccid slumber, to an erect body and stood ready for pleasure.

As I sucked her nipple and teased the other between thumb and finger, a moan escaped her lips. The moan was a musical symphony being performed to the beat of her heart. Still attending her nipples, I stood up and pulled her up with me. I pressed my body to her, and she knew right then my desire. We began to undress one another until nothing stood between us, not even air. She could feel the throbbing of my cock against her stomach as I felt the moist warmth of her pussy rising around my balls.

I sat her back on the couch, and slid my cock between her lips. She anxiously accepted it as she began to stroke it fervently with her tongue. My head dropped back as my eyes rolled and a deep growling moan came from within me.

"Ohhhhhhhhh Sara!"

She chuckled at my mistake. I can't believe that I just called my future mother-in-law by the name of my fiancé. I can't help it. Her mouth and technique are exactly identical. My cock throbs with the same intensity as when Sara takes it.

"Please, don't stop." I ask her.

She takes my cock even deeper in her throat than before. Feeling her muscles tighten around the head I'm coaxed to thrust deeper. I look down to her and see her rubbing her clit. She's grinding against it, knowing it's begging for the same attention. I lay her down and spread her legs wide. My cock soon finds itself back in its warm and welcoming haven. As I lay atop her, I welcome the sweet and musky aroma offered by her pussy. I begin to take the tip of my tongue and lightly tease the throbbing clit she's been grinding against. With every movement of my tongue, hers matches it, feeling the head of my cock receive the same attention I am giving her.

Her moans begin to increase as my mouth finds new ways to make her pussy wetter. My tongue taking long full strokes as if I were a child with an all day lollipop. Taking every drop of her sweetness into my mouth and swallowing it whole. I can feel her pussy begin to tighten and her hips begin to grind into my face. I can tell she longs to release the juice that I so much want to taste. I begin to rub her clit wildly, as I take my tongue and slid it as far in her pussy as I can. Harder and faster, as my mouth molests her pussy, my cock is fucking her face with the same speed and aggression. Suddenly my cock leaves her mouth as she screams in ecstasy,

"OH MATTHEW, I'M CUMMING BABY!!"

I feel the wetness of her juices flow down my throat and take every drop of her and swallow it deep within me. She strokes my cock madly and I feel the stir of climax approaching.

"Oh Goddess Gina. YES. Jerk my cock! Harder, FASTER! OH, OHHHHHHHHHH, OHHHHHHHHH MOM I'm CUMMINGGGGGGGGGGG!!"

She stroked my cock and let every drop of my cum spray on her and coat her face. As my cock hung there, still throbbing, I moved my body so that I could see the cum coating her face. I looked to her, smiled sweetly, gazed deep in her soft eyes, and kissed her passionately. I felt my own cum being rubbed into my face. Upon the break of this kiss, she licked my cum from me. We lied on the couch in one another's arms for a few moments, before gathering out clothes and dressing one another. I kissed her again as I made my way back out to the deck where I first met her, to smoke yet again.

To Be Continued...

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IwilldoitFeb31IwilldoitFeb31over 10 years ago

thank you the good tail

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 15 years ago
Interesting premise of meeting the much-hated MIL

I really love the idea and I think it's the first time I've read of something like this. Kudos for your originality but it seems Matthew is way too philosophical for the good of this story. How old is the mother-in-law Gina? We don't know. Aside from her 42 DD boobs, how tall is she? How does she look? What color is her hair? You've got really great potential if you include these necessary details--especially if you start including detailed or at least significant description of their mutual orgasms and how they felt, with the build-up, etc. Just don't rush the story and don't leave out those details or even the potentially most unique and hot story will get shot down in flames.

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