Mother-in-Law Lust

Summary: Guy spends a week with mother-in-law and....

NOTE 1: This is dedicated to the real Dave who requested this story.

NOTE 2: This is an APRIL FOOLS DAY 2021 CONTEST STORY.

NOTE 3: Thanks to Tex Beethoven, and Robert for editing this story.

Mother-in-Law Lust

I arrived at my mothers-in-law's house a little later in the evening than anticipated for a weeklong stay, while I did some building contractor work at a site close to her house... and a good eight hours from my home.

I did this usually a few times a year, as Anna was a widow, lived in one of the regions I was responsible for, and had the space.

She was a great host, and it was always fun, as we had a great, albeit slightly flirtatious, relationship.

The fact that she's 5'2", slim, with a 32C chest (yes, I snooped), amazing legs, and was very much an older facsimile of her daughter, my wife, helped. The fact that she wore skirts, pantyhose and heels every day, even after dinner most nights, although her heels would usually come off early in the evening, kept me rock hard pretty much every time I was in her presence.

She could pass, on most days, for her daughter, other than the shades of grey mixed into her brown hair.

She was a cougar among cougars, and I'd be lying if I denied that many of my stroke fantasies, especially while staying in her house in a bedroom right beside hers, were about her.

I should note that although I had many fantasies of fucking my mother-in-law, my sex life with my wife Christa had always been pretty good... until recently. Christa is bisexual, and we had a few threesomes with her friend Maria (there aren't many things hotter than watching your wife in a 69). She had even set me up to fuck her widowed friend Susan on a couple of occasions. Yet in the last three or four years, as her menopause really set in, our sex life had become rare and boring.

Now I know this will make me sound pathetic and unfaithful, but I often rummaged around in the spare bedroom's dresser (where I slept when I was visiting) as, for some reason, Anna had left a lot of her lingerie in there. I assumed it was because she no longer wore any of it, since her husband passed a few years ago. Yet, she had a wild array of lingerie, and Christa's dad must have been a lucky man. There were a variety of sexy garments, old school Cuban heel stockings, garter-belts, lace teddies (some with garters) thongs and more.

Did I use them to rub my cock while I masturbated while thinking of fucking her? Of course I did.

I especially loved using her sheer hosiery on my cock, imagining getting a nylon-clad foot job from her... something my wife had never done for me, even after repetitive requests.

And although I'd never done it, I had considered sneaking into her laundry basket to find some of her used panties or pantyhose... I just assumed her scent would be intoxicating.

Anna was already in her nightgown and robe when I walked in... I was a little disappointed she was already out of her nylons, but excited to imagine what lingerie she might be wearing underneath her robe.

She did what she always did when I arrived that first night, she gave me a hug... her large, soft breasts crushing against me. I always wondered if she felt my hard seven-inch cock flinch slyly against her leg... which I did three times during our brief hug... her perfume surprisingly strong for someone ready for bed... as if she'd just put some on.

"How was the drive?" she asked.

"Long and boring," I said and added, "thank God for the Classic Vinyl station on Sirius XM."

"I like that station too, there's something special about a classic," Anna said.

Her tone was odd as I pondered to myself how she was indeed a classic lady. Yet I agreed, "Any station that plays Styx, Bon Jovi, Chicago, the Doors and Meatloaf in a row is amazing."

"Which Meatloaf song did they play?" she asked.

"Two Out of Three Ain't Bad," I said.

"I saw him live back in '78," she said.

"Really?" I asked. "That would be amazing. I saw him a couple years ago, but his voice isn't what it used to be."

"Have you eaten?" she asked.

"Not since lunch," I said. "I was hoping you made something like you always do... like Meatloaf."

"You hoped right," Anna smiled warmly at me. "It's not Meatloaf, though. Chicken parmesan. I'll heat it up for you."

"You're a lifesaver," I said, as I looked at her legs, still a little disappointed they weren't in nylons.

"Anything for you," she said as I followed her into the kitchen.

"That's sweet," I replied, musing on how I'd love to test the 'anything' aspect.

We chatted about a variety of things before I went to shower, and she watched NCIS. I lathered my cock and stroked myself, daydreaming about fucking Anna, or having her pretty lips wrapped around me.

I spewed a load all over her shower.

I joined her for the end of NCIS, and then went to crash... I had an early start to my day tomorrow.

.....

I tossed and turned for half an hour, and then needed to pee. I got out of bed and heard moaning coming from Anna's bedroom. Curious, I tiptoed the few feet to her door, which was thankfully ajar.

I was expecting to see her under her covers pleasuring herself, but what I saw instead was wickedly hot. Anna was on her bed, on all fours, completely naked, bouncing on what must have been a dildo suction cup attached to her headboard. I had to speculate about the dildo, since she was facing the same doorway I was peeking through.

My cock went from flaccid to erect in a heartbeat.

Just when I thought it couldn't get any hotter, Anna moaned, just loud enough for me to hear her, "Yes, fuck me, Dave."

That was my name!

She was fucking herself, imagining she was fucking me.

Holy shit!

Anna's body was even more amazing than I'd imagined... and I'd imagined it a lot. Seeing her slim naked body bouncing so erotically on a dildo I couldn't see, was the hottest thing I'd ever seen... and I'd seen my wife in a 69.

It got even hotter when her moans increased, she buried her face in a pillow to muffle her screams as she came... she came while fantasizing fucking me!

Not wanting to get caught like some perv, I snuck back to my room.

I got back into the room, pulled out a pair of her silk panties from her spare dresser, got back into bed, fished out my cock, and stroked it furiously.

Not surprisingly, I didn't last long after watching such a hot scene, and especially replaying her moaning my name.

As I tried to get back to sleep after cleaning up, and finally going pee, I tried to process the reality that my mother-in-law got as turned on by me as I did by her.

Fuck... could my ultimate unfulfilled fantasy come true?

.....

In the morning breakfast was already made, pancakes and bacon, and Anna was already dressed for work - she was a secretary at a law firm - in a black skirt and nylons... her red painted toenails looking so appealing in the sheer nylons.

Interestingly, I was pretty sure her toes hadn't been painted last night.

We chatted, and all I could think about were her tits swaying, her body bouncing, and her declaration of: 'Yes, fuck me, Dave.'

I headed out hard as a rock, and my head spinning with possibilities.

The day was a long brutal one, both because the workday didn't go as planned, and because I couldn't stop thinking about Anna.

I got home around seven-thirty, and she was still in her workday attire... thankfully. She said, "I ordered pizza the moment I saw your truck pull into the driveway."

"Delicious," I said, applying that to both the pizza and my mother-in-law.

"Go shower," she said. "I'll pour you a whiskey."

"Please make it a double," I requested. "It's been a long day."

"Will do," she smiled warmly as she sipped on some white wine.

I went and had a quick shower, resisting stroking my cock, which was begging for my attention, and headed back to the living room... in a spur of the moment decision, I came out in a t-shirt and sweats... sans underwear, so my seven-inch erection might become noticeable at some juncture.

I wasn't sure what to do with the information I'd accidentally garnered last night, yet I knew I needed to do something with it. So this was stage one.

Anna was on the couch, her nylon-clad sexy feet resting on her coffee table, still sipping her wine. I walked towards her, my cock hardening instantly at seeing just the soles of her stocking-clad feet... imagining her stroking my cock between them.

When she saw me, she smiled in a way my wife no longer did when she saw me, and asked, "Have a nice shower?"

"It was rejuvenating," I answered, as she pointed to the coffee table... just a few inches from her crotch-raising nylon-clad feet, "Your drink is there."

Deciding to go directly to stage two, I reached down to grab the drink, and fake stumbled, so I had to grab her feet for support from falling, and made it look like a complete accident.

"You okay?" she asked, concerned.

I was surprised by how silky her nylons were, way softer than the ones my wife wore for me on rare occasions... she'd pretended to be into my fetish when we were younger and wilder, or at least to tolerate it, but now she saw nylons as just an inconvenience. I stammered, as I ever so slyly rubbed her feet, "S-s-sorry, I lost my balance."

Anna surprised me as I let go of her silky sheer feet and said, "I know. My legs can do that to a man."

I laughed awkwardly, surprised by her words, and yet going along with it, "I imagine so. Especially in sheer silky nylons like those ones."

"You like?" she asked, actually wiggling her perfectly manicured red painted toes at me. "I buy them online from Europe."

"They're very nice," I said, now given courage by her startling comment, openly admiring her legs and feet.

"Nice?" she objected. "No one likes to be called nice."

"Sorry, you're right," I apologized as I reached for the whiskey this time. "They're amazing, and they really accentuate your delectable legs and feet, that can knock some men off balance if they stare too hard."

"That's much better," she smiled, as she looked at my crotch, which was sticking out pretty impressively.

"I aim to please," I replied, allowing my not-so-hidden erection to poke directly at her, hopefully in her full view.

"I do too," Anna smiled back, both of us reaching a new level of flirtation.

I wasn't sure what I was going to say next, but the doorbell rang.

"Pizza," Anna said brightly as she stood up, but added a whole new level of aggressive flirtation, "although I've just realized I was actually craving sausage."

And with that, I was rendered totally speechless for a while. Yes, I'd wanted to fuck her for years. Yes, I wanted to fuck her right now. Yet this was a whole new level of innuendo... I didn't think there was any way to interpret the sausage reference other than sexually, especially as her eyes were boring into my very erect cock.

She walked past me, her perfume strong, and went to pay for the pizza. I was rock hard, and yet wondered if there was any significance to the pizza arriving just when things were getting potentially naughty. As I pondered this, I downed my drink.

She returned a minute later carrying a pizza box and said, "Come meet me in the kitchen."

"Sure thing, Anna," I agreed, following her into the kitchen.

She set out two plates, and served a couple of slices onto each of them. She also poured herself another glass of wine, and me another whiskey.

I picked up the plate nearest me as she asked, "Does Christa wear nylons for you?"

"She used to," I answered, but added, "but never anything like what you're wearing."

"She doesn't wear stockings and a garter-belt?" she asked.

"No; no, she doesn't," I said, Anna continuing to surprise me.

"She never did like them," Anna reminisced. "Wouldn't even wear them to weddings or funerals."

"She did for ours," I said, remembering my bride's legs in white nylons.

"She must love you," Anna said in a joking way.

"Well, if we're measuring quantities of love based on nylon wear, she loved me dearly on our wedding day, but now she hates me," I joked back.

"She never did understand that being a woman, and more importantly a wife, necessitated doing things to please your man," Anna said, actually sighing.

Feeling the need to defend my wife, I said, "She's done other things to please me."

"I'm sure she has," Anna said as she sipped her wine. After a pause, she asked about my day, and the conversation devolved to generic topics... which was a huge disappointment after all the earlier sexual energy... I silently cursed myself for getting us off track by defending my wife.

I finished a second drink, she finished a second glass of wine. We finished the pizza.

She filled both our glasses back up, and invited, "Come watch television with me."

"Sure," I said, wanting to find a way to direct the conversation back to sexual teasing, to jump to stage three (touching in some form), and also to admire her nylon-clad legs and feet some more.

She sat on the couch where she always did, but patted the spot beside her, something she'd never done before. I'd always sat in the upholstered chair placed beside her couch at an angle.

I sat down beside her, and she surprised me again by swinging her feet into my lap and asking, "Will you please give me a foot massage?"

"Well, since these silken-clad beauties are already in my lap, how can I refuse you?" I joked, as I moved both hands to her left foot, and stage three unfolded on its own.

"You can't," she said, letting out the softest of moans as I put pressure on her foot.

"Nor would I," I smiled, as I was really good at giving foot massages. Early in my marriage, a good foot massage often led to a blow job or sex... often both.

"That feels nice," Anna said, in a soft, sensual tone.

"So do these stockings," I said, in awe that not only were my mother-in-law's feet nestled in my lap, but her silky sheer feet were in my hands... so of course my cock was completely erect, and her heel was resting right on top of it.

"They make me feel sexy," she said, as I massaged her foot.

"They look and feel equally sexy," I replied.

"Thanks," she said. "But I'm just an old woman."

I disagreed, switching to her other foot. "Au contraire! You're a beautiful radiant woman, and age is just a number."

"You're so sweet," she said, giving a slight moan as I continued massaging her foot.

"Just being honest," I said, flinching my cock three times, after having controlled myself rather impressively until then.

"Well, I like such honesty," she said, as she noticed my not so sly salutes.

I wanted to say more... but wasn't sure what to say. We were definitely flirting. We were definitely blurring the line between mother-in-law and son-in-law, versus... something else. We had definitely pushed ourselves into uncharted territory. Yet, although I was confident she was into me, I wasn't a hundred percent confident she'd be willing to do anything about it, and that prevented me from going any further without some very clear signals from her.

When I was single... I would have risked it... worst case, I'd be wrong. I've been wrong lots of times, usually with little consequence.

But being married and Anna being my mother-in-law, if I was wrong this time, a few lives could fall apart very quickly.

I kept massaging her feet as she asked, "Do you know the last time I had sex?"

My eyes went wide.

"Have you been with anyone since Jake died?" I asked.

"No," she said, "and we didn't have sex for the last three years of our marriage."

"Oh my God," I said, that meaning she hadn't had sex for almost ten years.

"I haven't brought that up to anyone in ten years," she added with a wicked, playful smile.

"I thought going a few months was a dry spell," I said.

"You're telling me Christa isn't performing her wifely duties?"

"Not as often as she used to," I admitted, thinking I liked the term 'wifely duties'.

"That's inexcusable," she said, seeming very annoyed at her daughter. "Jake and I quit having intercourse only because he no longer could get it up, even with the special pill."

"I'm sorry," I said, as I moved my hand to her calf, slyly giving hints of my interest without going too far, too soon.

"Sorry for what? He could still give me orgasms with his tongue and, as you saw last night, toys today are amazing," she said, shocking me to the very core.

Had I heard right?

Did she know I'd watched her fuck herself last night?

"Y-y-you saw me?" I stammered, shocked by that revelation.

"I staged that show for you," she said.

"You did?" I asked.

"I did," she said sultrily.

Now ninety-nine-point-nine percent sure she was as interested as I was, I turned on my charm, and responded, "Seems to me, you staged it for yourself as well."

"Oh, it was definitely for me too," she said, her tone dripping with sultry seduction. "Although it took you a long time to hear me. I was holding back my orgasm for a good ten minutes. And then when I came for you, that orgasm definitely wasn't staged!"

"Sorry, I was busy trying not to jerk off thinking about you," I revealed.

She pressed her foot firmly on my cock and asked, "Which must mean you think I'm hot. So is this because of me?"

Now a hundred percent certain, I answered, "It's been saluting you like this for years."

She began to rub my cock with her foot and said, "Does my daughter at least give you nylon-clad foot jobs?"

"Sadly, never," I admitted.

"Stupid girl," she sighed, as she rubbed both her feet on my crotch.

"Stubborn anyway," I corrected, her feet on my crotch working wonders.

"Did you like watching me fuck myself, and did you imagine it was your cock doing the honours?" Anna asked, making me a hundred and ten percent sure she was interested.

"It was the hottest thing I've seen in years," I admitted. "So yes, and yes."

"Just in a number of years? Not the hottest ever?"

Figuring why not, I said, "It's in a dead heat with watching your daughter in a lesbian 69."

"Yeah, she ate a lot of pussy in high school; I actually thought for a while she might be a complete lesbian," Anna said, moving her foot away and adding, "since you saw me not only naked, but coming like gangbusters while screaming your name into my pillow, I think it's only fair I get to see you naked."

"That seems reasonable," I said, as I wondered how much pussy my wife ate in high school. I stood up and took off my shirt.

"I haven't seen a man naked in almost seven years," she said, admiring my body and looking lustfully at me... a lust I hadn't seen aimed at me by a woman in decades.

"Well, you could probably do better than me," I joked. I mean I had a decent body, but I was slightly chubby. Pretty normal for men my age.

"No, you're perfect," she said, as she laid herself out on the couch, rolled to her side and watched.

"I feel like such a piece of meat," I joked, as I pulled my sweats down to reveal I wasn't wearing underwear, and was completely erect with a tool pointing directly at my beautiful mother-in-law.

"I very much want a piece of that meat," she said, as she moved again to swing her feet up towards me.

I moved to her feet, entranced by their beauty, and admiring her flexibility and long legs.

When I was within reach, she moved her feet to my very hard cock and said, "Let's rectify that whole never-had-a-nylon-foot-job thing."

"Oooooooh," I moaned, her sheer stocking feet on my cock causing electric pleasure currents to spark through my entire body.