Like Father, Like Son

I've been married to Giles for 10 years. In all of those years I had never met his father, who'd left his wife and young family when he'd emigrated to Australia with a younger woman.

Last year all that changed. Gordon, Giles' father, made contact and arranged a family reunion. Reluctantly, Giles agreed to go. It was at this strained family get together that Gordon, a handsome, tanned man in his 60s, introduced himself to me. Giles was very annoyed, and even accused me of flirting with his dad. I was rather familiar, but I've never attempted to hide my curvy figure, and Giles has always encouraged me to dress teasingly, almost to the point of being tarty.

Tensions became even greater the following day, when I informed Giles that I'd invited his father for a meal that evening. In protest, Giles packed an overnight bag and told me that he intended spending the night with one of his mates in London. Rather than cancel, I was even more determined that my arrangements with Gordon should go ahead.

He arrived exactly at the time we'd agreed and my attempts to apologise for his son's absence were accepted. Throughout the evening I was aware that Gordon was stealing glances down my cleavage, as my dress offered a revealing view of my ample breasts. The more wine I drank, the more uninhibited I became, crossing my legs to flash him a glimpse of my nylon-clad thighs.

Struggling to open another bottle of wine, Gordon supported my tipsy efforts by placing his large hands over mine. Drawing the bottle of wine into my cleavage he then guided my fingers up and down the bottleneck. At this point I became aware of his erection pushing into my buttocks. Gordon began nuzzling my throat and shoulders, cupping my tits before finally sliding his fingers down my cleavage and squeezing my fleshy boobs.

He now brought his other hand around the front before easing the dress off my shoulders and removing my bra, letting my tits spill out. My nipples responded to his rather rough handling and soon became swollen and stubby. Suddenly I realised how much my tingling pussy was yearning for a cock, his cock, my father-in-law's cock. Switching his attention to other areas, Gordon hitched the hem of my tight dress up and over my hips and swiftly pulled my panties down. I found myself parting my legs, involuntarily.

Grasping the worktop to keep my balance I realised we were fully illuminated through the patio window and I was about to protest when Gordon unzipped himself, making me aware that it was far too late. I felt him lower his body slightly and braced myself for penetration. Instead he slid his hard cock between my wet thighs until his length protruded just below my pussy, but not entering it. Gordon then slammed his hot rod into me, spearing into my wet tunnel, forcing me to gasp. Pushing my arse towards his cock I clenched my cheeks in response to his rhythmic thrusts. It was pure fucking and I loved it. In fact, the only disappointment came when he tensed and emptied his bollocks deep into my cunt before I managed to come.

Regaining his composure, Gordon whispered, "Let's go upstairs." I wasn't going to object, I needed an orgasm. What I hadn't considered was the cold and wet sensation I experienced when I attempted to negotiate the stairs in such a disheveled state. Fluid literally ran down my inner thighs, but fortunately the tops of my stockings soaked up the sticky stream.

Once in my bedroom I let him undress me and then removed his clothes. Gordon sat on the edge of the bed and guided me onto my knees. I began to lick him all over his body, paying special attention to his swollen purple knob. After a while, Gordon eased my head free of his cock and slid three fingers into my gaping hole. Then he mounted me and, determined to pull him in even deeper, I wrapped my legs around his shoulders. As the pace of our fucking increased he began to shout obscenities, making me repeat them after him. Hearing him call me a "cock hungry adulterous slut" triggered a sensation more intense than I've ever felt with Giles. I groaned loudly, climaxed, and clung to him while he filled my pussy with thick spunk.

I parted my legs as wide as possible and Gordon positioned himself above me and penetrated me again. Like a cheap whore I was content to just lie there. I told him to call me a slut again, but before he could say anything, He'd shot his seed up into my womb again.

When Giles returned home the following day I told him that I'd cancelled the meal at the last moment. Satisfied with my apparent climb-down, the subject was never mentioned again. However, six weeks later I discovered I was pregnant, and since Giles always insists on wearing a condom, there really can only be one explanation. Now, six months later, my breasts and belly are swollen, but fortunately, Giles loves my inflated figure. Sex is more comfortable with Giles entering me from behind, which is ironic considering his father's preference for that position.