Dr. Margret Learns the Hard Way

After being gone for 28 days it doesn't take much and Margret was going to make me cum whether I wanted to or not. I tried thinking of other things like work or sports but none of it worked. She forced me back to reality each time her breasts rose and fell.

I could smell the faint scent of coffee on her breath as she leaned towards me.

Soon Margret grabbed the back of my head yanking down and forcing me to look up at her as she began to ride me harder and harder. With every thrust, I knew I couldn't hold out and felt the pleasure rising. Margret kept her eyes on mine shoving me deep inside her harder and harder. I was grunting trying to keep myself from cumming and Margret's cold mask began to transform into a wolfish grin with every noise I made.

She extracted every ounce of resistance from me and I couldn't take it anymore I started to cum and she started fucking me even faster, squeezing her pussy tight around my cock and sitting down hard each time. I came but she didn't stop, rising and falling on my now overly sensitive dick causing my muscles to flex and cramp. She took extreme pleasure in my discomfort and her eyes narrowed on top of her grin.

I prayed to go limp but my body wouldn't respond and my dick stayed hard. Through the cramps and muscle spasms, the pleasure began to rise again. This time, however, Margret was moaning too and sitting with all her weight as she rocked her hips back and forth until I could feel her climax. Her pussy clenched and released rapidly. Her pace had slowed but as she rose and fell slowly I started to cum again and without conscious though grabbed her waist holding her down as I pushed up inside her.

Satisfied she'd won she didn't slap my hand away and let me hold her there. I held her down with me inside her for a while before my hands fell to my side. I hate to admit it but she felt amazing and I felt drained. Dr. Margret stood, once again exposing me to the cold living room air. She picked her panties off the floor and began to walk away.

"Wait. That's it? You're just gonna leave?" I asked.

"Oh. Of course, I'll help with the money." She said still walking away.

"But John." she paused at the doorway to look at me. "From now on when I ask for something, I'd prefer it if you just do what I ask."

And with that, she walked out the house, got in her car and drove away.

Shit! What the fuck just happened?

Ch. 5

Alone and without sex clouding my mind the reality of what just happened began to form and the anger I felt mixed with the guilt of allowing myself into the situation. I'd never felt helpless before and I don't recommend it.

Still sitting exposed I had to quickly zip my pants back up when I heard a car pull into the driveway.

It was my father-in-law. I picked up the 2 coffee cups from the table and made my way into the kitchen to greet him as he walked in.

"Hey, it's good to see you." He said. Shaking my hand as he came in. "I didn't know you were home from work already."

"Yeah, Sarah asked me to stop by and get Sammy's teddy bear." I lied, this was becoming a habit.

"Have you seen Margret?" He asked.

"Yeah, she just left, right before you got here. Said something about a conference in New Orleans I think?"

"Yeah, she has to take 16 hours a year of continuing education for her license." He said, reaching in the cabinet fishing for a cup. "Do you have time to hang out or are you just passing through?"

"I wish I did, but I gotta get home, 28 days is plenty long enough to be away and I'm beat," I told him.

We shook hands again and I left for home.

I'd love to tell you things got back to normal but there's nothing normal about having an affair with your mother-in-law. However, the next time she called to ask for help I showed up and the money she gave me was enough to keep afloat.

We didn't start sleeping together again but I knew I couldn't ignore the subject either. I might be able to control myself when I'm not around her but if she pushed the wrong button when we're alone things could get sideways. I was going to have to talk to her, and the thought of that was almost worse than the idea of asking for money.

Dr. Margret eventually called asking for help landscaping. Thankfully she wasn't kneeling at the door when I arrived, however, it appeared that the only thing covering her was a bathrobe. I didn't trust myself so I gave her a quick hug and walked to the dining room table.

Waiting for her to follow me in I thought about the first time I fucked her, about her talking to me from across the table and how all I could concentrate on was her breasts barely concealed beneath a t-shirt. My heart beat faster at the memory and I began to get aroused.

When she walked back in the room she took a seat across the table from me again and her thick robe mercifully concealed curves of her body.

"So what's the problem?" She asked crossing her arms. Her expression was impassive but her tone sounded both tired and angry.

"I can't... we can't do this anymore," I said, slowly shaking my head.

"And why is that?" She asked.

"It's not right and I don't want to risk hurting Sarah," I told her.

"Oh?" She said raising her eyebrows in mock astonishment. "Did you think I was going to tell your wife or my husband Pat?"

"No, but..." I started but she cut me off.

"What do you think I am some sort of monster that just wants to hurt people? You must not think very much of me or you're pretty stupid to think I'd let this impact anyone else." She said raising her voice.

I guess it's really over; well at least her snippy comments make it easier.

I stood to leave.

"Wait." She said, lowering her voice to almost a whisper. "Is it really because of Sarah?"

"Yes," I replied, still standing. "What else would it be?"

She didn't look up. Instead, she remained silent staring blankly at the table.

"What?" I asked again.

"Is it the way I look?" She slowly got out.

"What?" Apparently, I'm an idiot and all I can say is "what", but none of what she asked made any sense. I sat back down.

"Are you kidding me?" I started. "You're fucking amazing, pardon my language. It's everything I can do not to rip your clothes off every time I see you. Any man with a pair of eyes would agree with me."

"Not Pat." She responded.

"Well, Pat's just.." I trailed off. I wanted to call him a fag but that was a whole other discussion. "Pat's a blind idiot. I know that he and I aren't the same people but I find it hard to believe any man sees you differently than I do."

It was quiet for a time and I leaned my elbows on the table.

Dr. Margret spent the next half hour telling me how Pat no longer finds her attractive and makes derogatory comments all the time about the way she looks. I struggled not to point out that she does the same thing, maybe not about his looks but to him in general.

The part I had the hardest time believing was when she said he hadn't touched her in over 2 years. Women might grade men on a 3 part scale of wealth, kindness, and looks, but men only have one scale and that's looks. On the man scale, Dr. Margret was a 12 which means I don't know how he ever kept his hands off her.

On cue, Pat came barging through the back door.

"Margret, is John here? I see his truck in the driveway." He asked from the kitchen.

"Yeah, I was gonna ask him to help me move those trees we just bought." She replied without getting up.

Pat walked into the dining room, shirt off, and soaked in sweat. Pat might not look like a weightlifter but I had to give it to him, he was fit.

"How many miles today?" I asked, always curious about his running.

Pat's a distance runner, and while that's not a sport I follow or am built for at least it's a sport and I can relate to that.

"Just 7 miles today." There's a 10K in St. Francisville I want to run in a month.

"Margret, I'll help you with the trees in a minute. You could use the activity." He told her.

Holy shit she was right, had he always talked to her like this and I never noticed?

"I don't mind. I'll give you a hand, I know those trees are heavy." I told him.

"No, no. You enjoy your coffee, you run around lifting enough heavy things at work. This will probably be an all-day affair anyway." He said and started walking to his room.

The fact that Dr. Margret and I just had a heart to heart was weird enough, I didn't need to make it more awkward by standing around watching them work, or worse, listening to him insult her.

She just gave me an I told you so expression and I went home.

Ch.6

I started listening when Pat was around; turns out he's as big a condescending ass as I ever found her to be. He was the last person whose comments I ever worried about but I could see that they hurt Margret; still, that was their relationship and I stayed out of it.

I was raised to respect my elders; I still say "yes sir," and "yes ma'am," and never correct them. His comments about and to Dr. Margret were an ever-present thing and I never said a thing to him until he made a comment to my son.

Pat and Dr. Margret were at our house for a crawfish boil when he told Sammy he needs to think about more than just hunting and fishing if he's ever going to make anything of himself.

Sam was 9 years old. His grades were good and he never missed a day of school but he and I don't miss much time in the woods either. I work rotation so I don't get to see my kids every day, hunting is our together time. Besides, what little boys don't like to think of hunting?

"NO," I told him from across the table. I must have said it louder than I thought because the whole table got quiet. I don't embarrass easy and kept my eyes lock on Pat.

"That boy's amazing in the woods. He can drive a nail at 300 yards and we ate all winter off his deer. At 9 years old he's putting meat on his family's table" I told him, gesturing to my son.

My comments were for Sam and not Pat, a boy needs to know that his dad's proud of him.

"John, I just meant..." Pat tried to explain, but I cut him off.

"Apologize," I said, still glaring at him.

Pat may be my elder but no one talks down to my kids.

"Sorry, buddy." He finally said.

The day ended soon after and I was happy to see them leave, but there was always another dinner with the in-laws.

Not sleeping with Margret put a strain on dinners. She returned to her snippy comments and sexual teasing.

Margret would run her hand across my back and I'd resist, she'd kiss me too long and I'd resist, she'd let her hand linger on me and I'd resist. Each instance was small and deniable, not enough to flat out tell her something but what was I going to tell her anyway, "Stop touching me or I'm going to fuck you?"

You'd think over time it'd get easier to be without her but the hunger grew. Before that first afternoon, the thought of Margret might have been a dull fantasy but the memory of her sharpened my fantasies into a razor that cut deep images until they became consuming. I found it harder and harder to control myself around her.

Ch. 7

Summer had come and the river stage dropped and work slowed down. It was a good time for maintenance on the boats and we put several vessels on dry dock for repairs. Summer was always an easy time on the river and I took advantage and spent more time at home.

Every week at some point we get together with my in-laws for dinner, usually on the weekends but Pat invited us over on a Tuesday for BBQ because the weather was cool that day. In Louisiana terms that means it was 85º with only 60% humidity.

I had been in New Orleans that morning to get a Coast Guard physical so instead of going home, I just went over to Pat and Dr. Margret's. I got there about mid-morning to help cook and get set-up, but neither of them were fully awake. They just aren't morning people and probably wouldn't get up before noon if they didn't have to.

I got started without them setting up the picnic table outside and getting all the chairs together. I guess I could have just sat down, like them, since Sarah and the kids weren't coming over until 3 but I just can't laze around. After setting up the table outside I got the pit ready and pulled up some chairs, before finally going inside.

"John, you don't have to do all that." Dr. Margret said from the living room, still in her robe. "We'll get all that taken care of in a little while."

"Oh, I don't mind," I replied still in the kitchen. "I have to do something with myself."

The truth was I really don't like hanging out with either of them and if I can keep busy then I don't have to interact, so I stayed in the kitchen getting the cutting board out and pulled the chicken out the fridge to marinate. Just before I was about to ask what else I could do my mother-in-law walked in and stopped me.

"Seriously John, we'll get all that." She told me. Dr. Margret might have sounded friendly but what she meant was "I have a specific way I want things done and don't want you to mess it up."

She stepped back from the doorway allowing Pat to walk in and made her way to her bedroom. Pat has dressed already and offered me something to drink when he walked in.

"I'll take some water if you don't mind," I told him.

He fixed me a glass of iced water and gestured for me to sit at the dining room table. We bullshitted a little while about work, the weather, and my kids. I saw Pat in a different light now. The way he treated Margret and who he was around my kids caused me to lose all respect for him, so I felt better with the conversation remaining superficial.

Dr. Margret returned from her room wearing a white sundress with a sunflower pattern on it. The thin fabric of the dress was cut low in the front and the hem stopped just a couple inches below her bottom.

I expected Pat to comment either on how good it looked on her or to tell her it was too revealing and to put on something else, but he didn't seem to notice. She was stunning that morning and I swear I noticed a hint of make-up on her.

Dr. Margret didn't look at either of us as she passed on her way to the kitchen; I had to fight not staring and swear I caught a little grin. Pat waited for her to walk into the kitchen before getting up saying he had to get the grill ready.

"I already pulled a couple things out and have it warming up," I told him.

"Oh, that's okay John." He said continuing to the back door. "I appreciate it but it doesn't need to warm up yet and there are a few other things I always do before I cook. You've already done enough, just relax and enjoy the a/c, I'll be back in after a while."

I walked into the kitchen to see if there was anything I could help Margret with; like I said I can't laze around. Margret was leaning over the sink washing vegetables when I walked in. The window over the sink was open, allowing her to correct everything Pat did while at the same time letting hot summer air flood the kitchen.

"Anything I can help with?" I asked.

"No; thank you though, just relax John really." She said without turning around.

I turned to go sit back in the dining room but before I was out the door she asked me.

"So how are things at work?"

"Not too bad I guess," I replied turning around. "It's slow and that's never a good thing."

"Oh, and why's that?" She asked.

Shit, I guess we were gonna be talking. There was a small footstool in the corner of the kitchen so I took the opportunity to sit down.

I would have liked to be back in the dining room but at least from here I could see more of her legs, and each time she stretched for the faucet her dress rode up a little. I know it's childish but men never really do grow up and I'm no exception.

Margret's legs were phenomenal, she walked all day at work and it kept her calves as toned as a soccer player and her thighs remained firm without losing their feminine softness. Just looking at the top of her legs caused my breath to become shallow and my heart to speed up a touch. I caught myself staring and had to try and remember what she'd asked.

"Oh right, no... I just would rather be on the boats instead of the shipyard, that's all." I said trying to recover. "But at least it pays the bills."

"Speaking of money how's that going?" she asked still not turning around.

I should've known better than to bring up money.

"It's fine," I said, now guarded.

"I always thought a man should be able to pay his own bills."

Are you fucking kidding me?

For the life of me, I couldn't think of a stinging comeback. The best I could do was keep my responses short hoping not to give her ammunition.

"Uh, yeah me too," I replied. I'm glad she didn't turn around because my face was a pallet of confusion and anger.

"I'm sorry." She said, still not turning around. "I didn't mean anything by it."

I'm not sure I believed her but the sudden anger mixed with the sight of her legs every time she bends had my blood going. Even with the sting of her comments, I couldn't stop my mind from tracing her legs past the hem of the dress. I had to straighten when I felt an erection beginning to swell.

As if in response to my thoughts she lifted her skirt to rub the side of her leg, and each time she pulled exposing a little of her bottom. Had I thought about it I might have stopped myself, but 5 minutes of that view and months of restraint, I was no longer a rational creature.

I stood, moving unconsciously until I was standing next to Margret. I ran my hand up the back of her leg, lifting her dress to feel the toned bottom hidden underneath. She froze.

"You think Pat knows about us?" I asked quietly, staring out the window at him getting the grill together.

"No." She said with absolution. "If it'd have caused me to gain a pound or two he might have."

I let my hand explore, running it back down her leg and up again. This time I didn't rest on her bottom; I moved my fingers between her legs pressing them against the soft folds of her pussy. Margret moaned letting my fingers rub back and forth before finally raising her arm in protest.

"Wait, John, stop. We can't do this."

I was confident we absolutely could do it. I bet I could fuck Margret right there in front of the window and Pat would never know a thing. When she tried to push me away I reached back, slapping her hard on the ass.

She screamed in surprise and; I knew it hurt, I'd slapped her hard enough to sting my hand.

Pat looked up from his BBQ pit, "Margret you okay in there?" he asked.

She didn't respond at first, then composed herself "Yeah, I'm fine, just dropped the pot on my hand."

While Dr. Margret was lying to her husband I reached my hand down between her legs feeling the swell of her pussy beneath the lace panties. I pressed my finger against the fold of her lips before pulling the fabric to the side. She was already wet and tried to protest again as I put my finger inside her.

Margret kept her eyes fixed out the window, pushing against the counter trying to get me off her but I held her in place with my hip against the back of hers. Pat had apparently heard the struggle and was looking up again. I'm not sure if he could see me or not but I kept his wife pinned as I slowly worked my finger, out and back inside.

Eventually Pat went back to work setting up the pit. The idea of him looking up and catching us was exciting but the feeling of Margret against me had my heart racing.

My strokes were shallow at first, just an inch at a time but as Margret relaxed I started working deeper with longer strokes until I was drawing my hand up between the cheeks of her ass pulling my finger all the way out then working it back deep inside. Margret was becoming wetter and soon she stopped fighting and started leaning back pressing her pussy against my finger.

A pack of wild dogs couldn't have pulled me off; I was done fighting myself.