Family Tradition: Next Generation

Story Info
Tradition, or fidelity?
13.7k words
4.3
129.6k
124
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

BigGuy33 has written a story about a family tradition that requires a man marrying into the family to spend the night before his wedding having sex with his future mother-in-law. ("Family Tradition," https://www.literotica.com/s/family-tradition-4 .) If you haven't read it, I suggest you do so now. The story ends on Henry's wedding day, and has an epilogue indicating that after years of faithful marriage, his wife Mary is about to fulfill the family tradition with their daughter Cassie's fiancé.

My tale takes place after BigGuy33's ends, but before his epilogue. If you find the premises of his story implausible, you will find my extension equally so: if that is an impediment to your enjoyment, you may as well stop now.

My thanks go to BigGuy33 for his permission and encouragement to write this continuation, and to BlackRandl1958 for her peerless insight and editorial skill, her patience as I learn a craft at which she is already proficient, and most of all, her friendship.

*****

Continuing a story by BigGuy33

Joe had assured me that his relationship with Agnes hadn't been hurt by their night together, and as far as I could tell, that was true. I hoped that would be the case for Millie and me. We'd gotten along well from the moment we met, much to Mary's delight. She was friendly and outgoing, had a great sense of humor, seemed devoted to Joe, and most important to me at the time, thought I was just the man for her daughter Mary. After our night together, it was time for the wedding and the honeymoon, and I had no time or wish to think of anyone except Mary. I didn't even spare a thought for Joe, the man whose wife I had fucked so thoroughly the night before, as he escorted my beautiful bride down the aisle.

After the honeymoon, though, I began to have second thoughts about what Millie and I had done. For one thing, she had shaved for me, even though she knew Joe didn't prefer her that way. This meant Joe would be physically reminded of Millie's adultery for, well, however long it took her pubic hair to grow back. I really had no idea how long that would be. When he did "whatever he felt necessary to make her his woman again," he would be doing it into a pussy that she had shaved for me. The thought made me uncomfortable.

I also remembered when we had parted, on my wedding morning. She had been visibly reluctant to leave my, or I should say Mary's and my, apartment. Of course, I'd been reluctant, too: fucking a hot woman had far more appeal than pacing the floor by myself, getting nervous about my wedding. It was more what she'd said: she would always treasure our time together, and would remember it fondly and forever. Really? Even while she was making love with Joe? I didn't like the sound of that. Of course I had wanted her to enjoy it, and had done my best to make sure she would, but this seemed a bit much.

Then, there was the in-laws' dance at the reception. I was all set to be the perfect gentleman, and show my new in-laws how much I truly respected them, even (especially) after the previous night. Millie and I danced close, but not too close, and I could see Joe doing the same with my mother, and Mary with my Dad. Joe even smiled and winked at me. As the dance was about to end, though, Millie pulled my head down to hers. "Thank you for one of the best nights of my life," she said. I barely got my head turned in time to make her kiss land on my cheek.

All in all, I was more than a little nervous when we had Joe and Millie over for dinner a couple of weeks after the honeymoon. Mary knew me very well even then, and she knew what was bothering me. "Don't worry, babe," she reassured me. "Mom loved it, and both Dad and I are glad you did it. Just relax. Everything will be fine."

Well, it was and it wasn't. There wasn't anything overt: nothing on the surface that I could point out. You know how you just get that feeling that someone's looking at you in a way they probably shouldn't? That's what I felt from Millie. Mary told me I was imagining things, but I knew I wasn't. She kept doing it, too: she would sit there next to Joe, holding his hand even, and meet my eye and smile that "just us" smile. She didn't do it when we were in public or with friends, but every time it was just the four of us, I could count on it. It made me uncomfortable, so much that after several visits with them I brought it up with Mary again. She still saw nothing to worry about.

"Look, Henry, she doesn't dress any differently than she did before we married; she doesn't hug you too long or touch you. Like this." She put her hand lightly on my forearm and leaned into me, delicately brushing a breast against my arm. She laughed at my instant boner. My beautiful wife could get me harder, faster, in more different ways, than I had ever imagined possible. She enjoyed doing it, too.

"Even if she were doing that, I wouldn't worry," she continued with her loving smile, "because I know you, and I know I can trust you completely."

I wasn't convinced. "Just watch her as if she weren't your mother," I asked her. "If you saw another woman looking at me like she does, what would you think?"

Joe and Millie had us over for a cookout a couple of days later, and Millie was still doing it. I couldn't tell whether Mary noticed or not. While we cleaned up after dinner, Joe seemed to want to talk to me about something. Before he could, Mary insisted that we had to go home right then and whisked us out the door. She said barely a word on the way home, but was clearly keyed up about something. I wondered what I'd done wrong. When we got in the door, she still said nothing, but propelled us into the bedroom where she proceeded to fuck me senseless.

She stood next to my chair as I finished breakfast the next morning. "Henry, love, I'm sorry about last night."

"I'm not," I answered with a smile, pulling her down onto my lap.

"Oh, not that," she giggled as she fell into my arms. "I meant for us to talk about Mom last night, but I sort of got carried away, and by the time we settled down, we were asleep. Henry, you totally blew me away last night." She gave me a soft kiss, and the tenderest, most loving smile you can imagine.

"That's funny. I thought it was the other way around: I could have sworn you fucked me senseless." We laughed and cuddled for a moment. How I loved this woman!

"I do want to talk about Mom, though. I saw what you're talking about, and I saw how uncomfortable it made you, but it's not what you're worrying about. She's not coming on to you." She paused.

"You rocked her world that night, Henry. She told me so. You knew from the beginning how happy I was that you and my parents loved each other. What you and Mom did that night came out of that love, added to it, and reinforced it. That's what the tradition is supposed to do. The look she's giving you is to thank you, to let you know it's okay, and remind you that she loves you, too.

"She knows it's making you uncomfortable, and she's sorry, but she can't help how she feels. If you hadn't loved her but just fucked her, or if you hadn't been so good, she wouldn't be looking at you that way. She hopes you'll get more comfortable, and so does Dad."

I thought a moment. "Yeah, I thought he wanted to talk with me about something last night, but you hustled us out of there pretty quickly. What was that all about?"

Mary smiled at me. "Henry, seeing how Mom looked at you reminded me how you did something you thought you could never do, and you did it because you love me. Then, I thought about how any woman in the world could look at you however she wanted, and you would still be true to me, because you love me. I was so overwhelmed with love for you, I just had to get us out of there right then and show you. Was that okay?"

The look on her face told me she knew damned well it as okay, but I told her anyway, of course. Then I returned to the topic at hand.

"Mary, it was just supposed to be one night, then everything goes back to where it was before, right? So shouldn't that look be reserved for your Dad? Does your Grandma look at him that way?"

Mary leaned back on my lap and thought for a moment. "No, I don't think Grandma looks at Dad the way Mom looks at you. Maybe she did back when I was too young to notice, I don't know. You've seen how comfortable they are around each other, though." I nodded; she was right.

"I think there are two things that are different between you and my Dad. One is, you're a better lover than Dad. Henry, you're so cute when you turn all red like that! Seriously, did you really think we women wouldn't talk about it? Grandma turned green with envy as Mom told her all about what you did. I just sat there like the cat that ate the canary, because I get you all the time, and Mom only had you for one night.

"The other thing that's different is you're the only man I've ever met to whom fidelity is as important as it is to me. From what Mom told me, Dad reached his decision to fuck Grandma pretty easily: his only real problem was the idea that Mom would be unfaithful to him later. He rationalized that it would only be once, and decided he was okay with it. You're different. I know that agreeing to spend the night with Mom was terribly hard for you, and that I almost lost you over it. I'm so glad I didn't! I'd have been heartbroken.

"That's why you're uncomfortable, Henry love. It's because you still feel you were unfaithful to me, and the way she looks at you reminds you of it. You weren't unfaithful: it was something you did out of love for me, that I all but forced you to do. We all love and respect you, Henry, especially me. I'm so lucky to have you! Can you just relax and accept and enjoy that?"

Enjoy, not so much, but I guessed if Joe didn't mind, I could put up with it. Truth be told, I thought this was pretty mild compared to the many horror stories I'd heard about toxic in-laws. Besides, if I got too uncomfortable, I could ignore Millie and concentrate on my beautiful wife.

We were over at Millie and Joe's. Cassiopeia was almost two, and Penelope was scheduled to join the troupe in three months or so. Mary had a thing for Greek myths; I didn't mind because we agreed that no one was ever going to call them by their full names. Cassie was busy entertaining her dad and granddad, and making certain we stayed out of trouble. She certainly had the right skill set, but she was starting to tire. It was a hard job, after all! As I began to collect her stuff (I was naively amazed how much stuff it takes to travel with an almost-two year old), we heard Mary's raised voice from the kitchen.

Mary never quarreled with her mother. This pregnancy had been harder on her than Cassie's; some part of her hurt almost continuously, so her fuse was shorter than usual. Still, neither Joe nor I had ever heard her shout at her mother. We looked at each other anxiously until the shouting stopped. Several long moments later, Mary emerged by herself. She was white and shaking; I had never seen her like this.

"Are you OK?" Joe and I both sprang to her side.

"Take me home, please." She spoke in a forced whisper.

"I'm just collecting Cassie's things; we'll be ready in a couple of minutes." I handed Cassie off to her, winning a wan smile, and finished collecting baby stuff. I could see my own worry mirrored on Joe's face as we left.

The drive home was silent. I put Cassie to bed, installed Mary in her comfy chair, fixed us each a drink, and started to rub her feet.

"How did you know it was my feet today? It's been my back all week." She sighed contentedly as I eased her tired feet.

"I don't know, really; maybe something in the way you were walking?"

"I don't care, it's heaven. It's exactly what I need. I love you, Henry."

I rubbed and massaged and listened to her purr for a while. She's the only woman I've ever known who actually purred, and I loved making her do it. Finally, she was relaxed and had her color back. I looked up at her.

"Want to talk about it?"

She sighed. "I know I shouldn't have raised my voice. You don't do that to your mother, and I love her dearly. I shouldn't have been that shocked, I guess, but she hit me with it out of the blue. We made up before we left. I guess it's not really that outlandish, but I just... I'm not making much sense, am I?"

"Well, no," I admitted, "but you've had a long day and I know you'll get there eventually. I'll just enjoy the scenery meanwhile," I said as I gazed into her eyes.

"Dear Henry." The words were a caress as her face melted into a smile. "Have I told you you're the best? I mean, lately?" I nodded; she had. I could see her gathering herself.

"Mom said she wants another night with you."

Speech failed me. I couldn't even gurgle. My eyes and mouth fell open; my brain fell shut. I'm sure it would have been hilarious in a movie, but Mary didn't even crack a smile.

"She... she what?"

"She did. She came right out and said it. She said you were the best she's ever had, and she wants more. She knows you won't do it without my permission, so she was asking me straight out."

"What did you say?"

"I'm afraid that's when I shouted."

"You shouted 'No,' I hope?"

"I did. Loudly and a lot."

"What did she say?"

"She asked me if I'd finished my little tantrum, then she told me why I would eventually say yes. She said it had already happened once, with everyone's permission, so doing it again shouldn't be a big deal. I wasn't buying that: after all, we weren't married then. Then she pulled out the tradition, and talked about how close you felt to each other after your night together, and she thought you'd been a little distant lately and wanted to bring you close again."

"Do you believe her?"

"I know I should believe my mother, but I don't." She was clearly distressed, so I didn't push her.

"What does Joe have to say about this?"

"He doesn't know yet. Mom said she'd tell him after I gave in and said yes."

"You mean he doesn't get a choice?"

"I... I guess not. Not where Mom's concerned, anyway. Besides, it won't matter because I'll never say yes."

"Good, because I won't either. Just so you know, Mary, even if you had said yes, there's no way I would do it. Once was enough, if not once too many."

"I thought you liked the sex?"

"Look, Mary, I liked your Mom. I still do. I'd gone without for almost a week, and I was twenty-three. Of course I liked the sex, but I am not doing that again. Ever. Period." I thought for a moment.

"You know, I've half a mind to tell Joe about this."

"No! Please don't, Henry. You can't let him know. He can't find out that Mom wants sex with you. She can hide behind the tradition when she talks to him, and he'll be okay, but if he finds out what she really wants, it will hurt him terribly. Please don't tell him."

"So what do you think she really wants?"

"Well, I don't know for sure," she tried to back down.

"Mary..."

"Henry, I know the tradition. I know how it started, and what it's really supposed to do. She's... well, trying to hide behind it, and trying to use it to manipulate you and Dad into doing what she wants. She'll be very upset with me if I don't help her. I've already told you more than I should, because we aren't allowed to tell men the story." She began to cry softly.

I could tell Mary was really torn. It seemed like I could see generations of stern-looking women, all standing together with their hands on their hips, looming over my poor pregnant hurting Mary as she cried. I gathered her into my arms and soothed her. I loved and appreciated her family, but I wasn't about to put up with their hurting my wife. The question was, what would I do about it?

We had finished dinner and put Cassie to bed a few nights later. Mary was feeling better, and we were snuggled together on the sofa.

"Mary, you know I love your family," I began. "They're great in-laws, and great grandparents for Cassie, and I completely appreciate them. You know that, and they know that, right?" She nodded.

"But you mean more to me than all of them put together, back as many generations as you can count. The other night, I saw the woman I love reduced to tears by her family. I will do whatever I have to do to make sure that doesn't happen again."

She closed her eyes, gave a little smile, and snuggled in closer. "I know, Henry. I feel the same way about you."

"I talked with your mom today." Mary stiffened in my arms. "I told her that I knew about her asking you for a night with me, and that the answer was no, now and forever." I was startled to see her turn pale and feel her start shaking, just as she had that night at her parents'.

"What... what did she say?" She could barely force out the words as she shuddered.

"She said she was sure I would change my mind. I asked her why; I'm afraid I wasn't very nice about it. She gave this little chuckle and said I should ask you."

"Oh, God." Mary's trembling became worse. I spent several minutes calming her down before she could speak. I won't try to reproduce her hesitations, gasps, and little sobs as I encouraged her through her sentences.

"She reminded me that when Cassie grew up and married, I would have to spend the night before her wedding with her fiancé. She knows how different from Dad you are, and how much harder it will be for you. She said I might even lose you over it. She said I needed something to hold over you to make it okay, and you would never, well, go outside of our marriage on your own, so this was the only way. The only way I could fulfill the tradition and still keep you." The last few words were lost in sobs as she trembled in my arms.

I put off gritting my teeth about Millie. Mary was obviously scared out of her wits, and she was the one I was concerned about.

"Mary, tell me about the tradit-"

"Shhhh! Don't even ask!" Her fingers covered my lips. Honestly, it was as if the tradition was some sort of voodoo that it was death to mention.

"Oh, come..." My wife's pale face and saucer-like staring eyes stopped me. It might be humbug to me, but there was no doubt she was a true believer. I tried something else.

"Mary, let's pretend for a minute there's a way out of the tradition: some sort of get out of jail free card that means you don't have to do it, and doesn't cost us anything. If you had it, would you use it?"

"You don't understand, Henry." Her voice was sad. "It doesn't work like that. It's not some kind of magic, it's real, and I will have to do it. It isn't that I'd be punished. I would, but I'd take that gladly to stay faithful to you. It's ... it's something that won't happen unless I do it, and there's no other way to make it happen. I will have to do it." She sighed.

"I try not to think about it. I hate the very idea of being unfaithful to you. I sometimes try to imagine how I will get through it, or how I'll make it up to you, but there really isn't anything. It's so hard." Tears ran down her cheeks.

"Do you ever try to think of a way of not doing it?"

"There isn't one, Henry. There isn't one."

You may think I should have pushed Mary harder. Maybe you're right; it might have avoided the pain and heartache to come, but when the woman you love is terrified and trembling in your arms, you don't push her. You just don't.

During the following weeks, every now and then I would think through what little I knew and try to figure out a way around Mary's eventual infidelity, but I simply didn't know enough. Mary was clearly so browbeaten not only by her mother, but all those previous generations of women in her family that she wouldn't be able to help, and poor Joe knew even less than I did. Then Penny was born, life got busier, and it wasn't long before I repressed it altogether. I do know Millie never brought up having sex with me again.