Mother-In-Law Apartment

You don't hear the term mother-in-law apartment much anymore. Maybe it's not politically correct. You know, the righteous elitists think it implies that older women are expected to live in small apartments that are tucked into bigger houses that younger families occupy. Or maybe the abbreviation MILA is just too close to MILF and prudish parents don't like having to explain the difference. The urban planning term is accessory dwelling unit, which is abbreviated to ADU, or least it will be until some smartass sees it could mean Asshole Development Unit. Anyway, I like the term mother-in-law apartment and in spite of my leftist leanings, I've really got my belly full of this political correctness horseshit. The point is that these MILA's or ADU's are the kind of places I prefer to rent. You will see why if you have the patience to read on.

It was towards evening one day in late fall that I was cleaning and putting the tools away in the garage after having laid a couple hundred square feet of concrete pavers on the patio adjoining my mother-in-law apartment. The apartment was in one of those so-called raised ranch-type homes, which in upstate New York and in Pennsylvania were quite popular in the 60's and 70's. Now a raised ranch means just that -- it's a ranch-type home that is raised up so that the main floor is 3 to 6 feet above the ground. The house in which I was living was on a lot that sloped to the rear so that in the back, the basement stuck out of the ground far enough so I only had a few steps to go down to enter in and I had sort of normal windows. The apartment consisted of a big room containing the kitchen, dining table and living area plus a tiny bedroom and a tiny bathroom with toilet, lavatory and shower. Couples used to build houses like this figuring that some day, one of their mothers-in-law would become widowed or divorced and need a place to stay. Hence the name: "mother-in-law apartment".

Anyway, it was getting cold and I was rushing with the cleanup when suddenly, I heard the side door of the garage opening and turned to see a lady walk in. It startled me because the landlady, Ruth, an early 70's widow, who occupied the primary residence in the house, was in Scranton visiting her son, so I hadn't expected to hear or see anyone. The surprise lady turned out to be the Ellen, the landlady's daughter, a mid-40's nurse with a build comfortably somewhere between that of a marathon runner and someone who might be heading for obesity -- in other words slightly stocky. Yes, almost stocky, but still here was a woman that most 40+ year-old men would kill for to have as a wife.

She opened with "Never thought you'd finish that patio today. Got a backache?"

"Didn't think I would either. Backache?" And then I joked: "Yeah, but after the shower, my personal trainer is coming by to give me a massage."

"Sounds like the way to handle it. Anyway I'm really glad you can take care of some of this stuff for Mom. The way that patio was - been worrying us for years. Where'd you learn to do that kind of work? Used to do it professionally?"

"Nah, not really, just picked it up along the way. After I got declared excess in my mid-40's, I wasn't overloaded with job offers." (I don't like to let on too much about where I've been or what I've done.)

"Anyway I'm glad you fixed that patio." With that she turned and went out and I heard her start the car and then drive off.

Damn but my back hurt! That patio, 13 by 24 feet of 16-inch square concrete pavers, had had low spots, wobbling pavers and weeds. I had removed and stockpiled all 180 of the pavers and then dug out what was below -- mostly dirt that some incompetent and/or crooked contractor had put in years before -- and then wheel-barrowed it all to the front drive for pickup by a local trucker. After getting the trucker to deliver base rock and crushed gravel, Ruth had driven me to Home Depot where we rented a tamper and picked up 2x4's for the borders and to make a screed. Then I'd wheel-barrowed in the new base rock and compacted it with the tamper.

Yesterday afternoon, I'd finished screeding off the crushed gravel and began laying the pavers back in place. Today, I'd finished relaying the pavers. A 16-inch paver weighs a little over 22 pounds and you might say that's not much, but when you lay these things, you've got to lean out while kneeling. That just isn't the kind of work a 60+ year-old ought to be doing.

Not that I had any choice after my job loss and subsequent divorce some 15 years earlier. As the marriage was falling apart, my ex had made some accusations that a policewoman and a shrink had blown up into some pretty serious criminal charges. To make a long story short, I jumped bail and took off with not much more than what fit in a small rucksack. Now when I should have been playing golf in Arizona, I was janitoring for below minimum wage in a nightclub five or six mornings a week and doing any odd jobs that came my way. At least the rent in the half-basement apartment was low and the yard and maintenance work for Ruth helped offset even that. I really like to live in mother-in-law apartments because they let me feel less like the fugitive that I am. Unfortunately, it isn't easy for a guy like me to rent them because I can't bring references and even if the landlord agrees to take me, they get suspicious when I have to pay in cash. Fortunately, lots of homeowners are greedy and they realize that when they get the rent in cash, the IRS can't find out about it.

After I got the tools cleaned up and put away, I couldn't get under that hot shower soon enough and I stayed in 20 minutes or so to loosen up the back muscles. Dressed in a towel cloth robe, I came out of the bathroom with the intent of making a pot of tea. There stood a smiling Ellen in her nurse uniform!

"Ready for your massage?"

Then I noticed the portable massage table set up where the coffee table normally stood.

"Ellen, really I was joking -- I don't want to pressure you into doing favors. I'm not into mooching. You probably work hard enough at the hospital without having to give freebies."

"Al, please don't argue with me. Just lay face down on the table and I'll fix your back."

Well, pushover that I am, I got myself on the table face down with the robe draped over me like a blanket. After taking the robe away off and replacing it with a towel, Ellen went to the head end of the table, leaned over my head and started working on my lower back, simultaneously on both sides of the spine. Leaning over my head like that meant her breasts were constantly sliding over the back of my head and even more so as she went further down to and onto the rise of my rear end. Predictably, this initiated a warm stirring in my crotch. Time flew as I was mentally trying to keep myself under control. Then she went around to the foot end and, successively on each leg, worked the foot, calve and thigh ending at the bottom of my ass and even the inside of my thigh. Now I really started swelling up and my hard dick between the pubis bone and the thin cushioning of the portable massage table must have raised me up by an inch. Surely she must see what was going on as her hands came all the way up to the inside of my thighs?

"Now why don't you roll over so I can work your pectorals and chest?"

"Ahmmm, well, ahmm, this could be a little embarrassing for both of us?"

"Silly boy, you know I'm a nurse. Don't you think nurses ever have male patients get an erection? That issue gets covered very early in nurse's training. Besides I've been married to Andy for 22 years and we consummated our marriage well before the happy day."

"Well what do you do when a patient gets a boner during his bed bath?"

"Generally, I drape a cold washcloth over the offending member. Another way is to flick the pole with my finger but this is frowned on by the profession and for me, that's just too aggressive."

"What about just giving the patient a release?"

"That's not very professional but I know of nurses who do that. Now please stop procrastinating and roll over."

Well, I rolled over expecting her to put an icepack over the tent pole -- the situation was that obvious. Instead she just let the tent stand and went to work on my shoulders, pectorals before working her way down to the edge of the tent. She was again working from the head end of the table so I couldn't help noticing that she was breathing differently and her breath was taking on a pleasant musky scent. This time her breasts were brushing my cheeks, sometimes lightly and then more often with some pressure. Now my dick was throbbing like a steam engine and an uncontrolled release would not have been a surprise outcome.

She moved to my left side and said: "I don't have a cold washcloth so how about if I take the towel away and do something unprofessional?" Not waiting for my expected affirmative answer, she reached into her handbag and pulled out a bottle of olive oil!

I thought silently: " Good grief, is she going to make a salad?" But no, she removed the towel and dribbled olive oil over the bulging pink head and let it run down the shaft and into the forest below.

In my second attempt at humor that day, I mumbled: "That olive oil is organic, isn't it?"

"Yes it is, just like your red-headed monster is organic?" Touché!

I closed my eyes as she began massaging the head with her thumb and two fingers. Then down the shaft slowly using one hand, the other hand cupping my balls, which were now slippery with olive oil. Then using two hands alternately beginning at the head and now faster down the shaft. Now with one hand and cupping my balls. Occasionally, the middle finger of her ball-cupping hand would be down touching my asshole as if looking for entry. She was breathing harder now, even harder than I was, and her breath was really getting musky. Now she was stroking faster and faster, almost frantically. That I hadn't cum yet? You'd think that I'd had fresh cell therapy.

Then a warm rush came over me as the shot of warm seminal fluid roared out in bursts. Ellen's left hand intercepted the spouting sticky stuff while her right kept busy milking me out. Then I began to relax. Ellen fetched a washcloth and a bowl of warm water from the bathroom while I remained lying on my back enjoying a deep feeling of quiet and satisfaction that I hadn't enjoyed for a long time. Ellen came up to my right side and with her left hand, rolled back my foreskin and carefully washed the head taking special care going around the rim several times. In a jiffy, my formerly flaccid member was now stiff enough that she no longer had to hold back the foreskin. With the thumb and fingers of her left hand, she then held the glans and carefully washed the shaft, my balls and the insides of my thighs, in the process going all the way to my asshole. She finished off by washing my belly and then dried me. By now I had a gigantic tent pole again.

"Sorry Al, but I really need to get to work. Will you take a rain check?"

Her massage had been more sex than I'd had in months and months so even a rain check sounded good so I said: "I'll be praying for good weather so I can cash in the rain check."

"I can't leave you like that and we can't have you jacking off after I leave, can we?"

Thinking of another happy end to come, I murmured "no way".

Ellen reached down to the floor and came up with a wet washcloth, which she draped over my tent pole. The cold wetness made me inhale sharply and my excited member began a return to normalcy.

"I just wanted to show you how well that works and I really have to get to work now. I have swing shift for a few days. Bye."

A week or so went by without hearing from Ellen so when Ruth came back from Scranton, I pretty much gave up on cashing in Ellen's rain check. Lots of men think that once they have an intimate thing with a woman, that woman is looking for something permanent and will automatically come back. I've made lots of experience to the opposite. So many times I've had a blistering go-around in a broom closet, a dark stairway or in bed and afterwards, she cools down and says "kiss my ass and goodbye."

Then one Thursday afternoon after getting back from my regular job, I raked leaves for Ruth and around 5 went in and showered. As I came out of the shower, I heard a familiar voice: "Why do I always catch you as you come out of the shower?"

She had come through the door connecting my little apartment with the rest of the basement -- the door that was normally locked! Since her mother, Ruth, was home, this was a big surprise.

"How'd you get in?

"I unlocked the door and walked in, silly man."

"Won't your mother wonder what you are doing here?"

"No, she won't be wondering. I told her about that massage I gave you. You see, I don't keep secrets from my mother."

To myself: "What the fuck?" The day before Ruth had told me Ellen was married and had two grown daughters, the older one married and the other away in college. This situation was now getting more complex and was turning into the kind of situation in which guys like me with lots to hide try to avoid. Funny thing was that Ruth had let on as if Ellen's marriage to Andy was a model for Republican family values.

"Ellen, this is going to get back to Andy." (I was already seeing him telling the police about a guy without bank account, social security number, drivers license, and so forth.)

"Not unless I want it to. Mom isn't going to tell and the neighbors are just going to notice me visiting Mom. So why don't you just drop that towel and let me see what I've been rubbing my clit over for the past week."

I got a hard on almost as fast as I dropped the towel and she came over to me, still in her nurse's uniform. We embraced and immediately began a really heavy kissing session. Her breath had that coppery flavor of a woman who is expecting a lot more than kisses. In deed, Ellen was really panting with lust and I could only imagine how wet she must be between her legs.

In a panting voice: "Al, your penis is poking me in the stomach."

"How about if I poke you further down?"

"Oh Al, I want it so bad!"

I reached around with both hands and pulled up the back of her dress and squeezed her ass through the panties. I worked my right hand around to her front and felt her wet crotch through the nylon panty. She already had her hand on my shaft, stroking it, playing with the head and alternately cupping my balls.

Taking off a uniform is, as they used say, like unwrapping a present. I unzipped her in back and pulled the uniform dress over her head. Then I unsnapped her bra and let those D-cup size globes out for freedom and adventure. Down on my knees, I pulled her panties down and kissed her furry mound on the way.

"I love that Al, but please, let's get in bed. I want to feel you inside of me."

A few steps through the tiny living room and we were at my bed, which she flopped back on and spread her legs to reveal a moist cunt in the midst of a neatly trimmed triangular shaped forest.

"I'm glad you're not into shaving or Brazil or piercing or any of that other weird shit. Just a beautiful place to exercise my cock."

"Stop talking and come home to mama", she moaned.

I lay down between those thighs and the head of my penis seemed to find its mark without need for a guiding hand. Ellen thrust back and I went in several inches. Oh that wonderful warm moist feeling surrounding my cock as it luxuriated in her folds! I pushed in all the way and then came an overwhelming rush from between my legs and all the way to my brain.

"Ellen, I just have to cum!"

"Then cum! I want it inside of me now!"

I felt the viscous fluid spurt in a wave from inside and through the shaft of my cock. Several bursts later, I subsided into a wonderful calm.

"Oh Ellen, I'm so sorry. I was too fast for you. Please give me another chance."

"It's okay baby, together we're new at this. Just stay inside me. I like the feel of your soft cock inside me. Hold me tight, please."

I held her close and yes my flaccid member did feel good in her warm folds. In fact so good that -- what? Yes, things were swelling up down there.

"Al, I feel you getting hard inside of me. Ooooohhh!"

With increasing hardness, I started stroking again, first very slowly and then faster. Now after that first big release, my staying power would do justice to her needs. I stroked longer and even withdrew completely and followed with savage reentry. I took the base of my cock in hand and tried to find her G-spot with the swollen head of my penis.

"Let me help your big boy find what he's looking for." Ellen breathed huskily and reached down to take my cock by the base and maneuvered so that my glans contacted the tender spot that I hadn't been able to find.

I made short strokes to agitate that magic region of her pussy and she closed her eyes and threw her head back with pleasure. The flow of warm liquid between our thighs and her moans told me she had peaked. Stabbing deeper and harder and faster, I brought myself to a pleasant release and collapsed against her body. Our juices mixed both inside and out of her pussy and ran down on the bed sheet. Afterwards, we lay locked together in the rapidly cooling puddle.

"God I really loved having you inside of me. It's been a while for me and I have feeling it has been for you too. Am I right?"

My social and financial situation didn't allow for relationships with anything but my hand, so yeah, it had been awhile and I admitted that to her.

"How about Andy. He doesn't look any older than you and he doesn't look sick. It's none of my business but he ought to be poking a good looking woman like you 2 or 3 times a week."

"Andy had prostate cancer. The surgery went well but he ended up being in that 20 or so percent that have to say goodbye to any kind of normal sex life. That was 3 years ago. I'm glad he survived and I love him still, but as you may have noticed, I have needs and those needs can get pretty intense."

"Sounds pretty tough -- living with a man you love but who can't do it. No chance of recovery?"

"He's been looked at by the best urologists in the state and goodness knows, I've tried all kinds of massaging. At first Andy used to finger fuck me to orgasm but as he lost hope in ever getting his member up again, he lost interest in that too."

I started wiggling as the juicy puddle dried and got itchy and Ellen thought it might be good to clean up. She went to the bathroom and I thought she might come back with a bowl of warm water and a towel but she just turned on the shower and called me to join her.

I squeezed in behind her into the tiny shower and things were really tight. In fact so tight that my slowly hardening manhood couldn't avoid contact with the curves of her rear end or her belly, depending on which way she was facing. Under the warm spray, she gave extra attention to my nipples as she soaped my chest and moved on down to my belly, brushed my pubic hair and then reached around to soap my buttocks and then down through the crotch before moving forward. First she soaped up my balls and then beginning at the base slicked up my penis as well so that my whole crotch was one big soapy mass. Thanks to the previous action in bed, I wasn't capable of much more than half a hard-on so I decided to give Ellen some pleasure. I took the soap from her and turned her D cup tits into foamy twin peaks. Under the froth, I could feel the nipples tightening and decided to investigate the forested region further south. The thing I really like about unshaved cunts is that when you soap them up, they stay frothy until you rinse them off. As I soaped her up down there, my fingers kept investigating the canyon in the forest, which had the desired effect of making Ellen moan and her legs shake. I teased her G-spot and then started going deeper with multiple fingers. Suddenly, with a great big shudder she screamed and I felt a light flow of juice upon my hand. After she settled down she again worked on my cock and brought out a less than impressive ejaculation. We were both drained so we just rinsed off and got dressed.