My Mother in Law's Rebirth

Author's Notes: It has been some time since I last posted a story. I actually wrote this story more than a year ago but have only now submitted it. I have made only minor edits to the version I recently found.

The story is probably unfinished but I don't know if I'll ever continue or conclude it.

I hope you enjoy it.

GM01

My father in law was a dickhead. Let's get that right out in the open to start. That fact still does not excuse what my mother in law did to me. Let me fill you in with some background to properly frame my sad tale of woe.

I met Tina, short for Christina, when I was in college. We didn't start dating until we were both seniors. Vivacious would be a good place to start her description. Tina was always up, always in a good mood, always seeing the positive. She was a 'people person' and everyone just naturally gravitated to her. We were part of a large group of friends who came together and jelled in our freshman year.

Over three years we did many things together as a group, skiing, concerts, spring breaks and going to, or hosting parties. Tina was commonly at the center of everything and if she wasn't her two roommates were. Now, to be truthful, any one or all of the guys in the group probably lusted after Tina at one point or another. I think it was a continuous state for a few of them. I had a Tina 'phase' at the start of sophomore year but it was over pretty quick.

From time to time a couple would pair off to do something on their own but it was just a friends thing. Like you needed a date for a faculty dinner type of thing. As our college careers progressed about a third of the members began dating someone from outside the group. It was intimidating for these new guys or gals to integrate with this long time set of friends so it could be awkward. Usually though, we just saw less of that person as they spent more time with their new one on one relationship.

So it was strange at the very end of our junior year, and I mean the very end, exams were over and we were packing up to go home, when I sensed that I was getting signals of interest from Tina. I wasn't the best looking guy of the group, not the tallest, not the smartest and didn't have the best body. I was, in just about every way, within the group and among the population as a whole, average.

True, I was smart enough and I was athletic enough but I think that my one strength was I might have been one of the funnier members of the group. I could generally make every body feel good and find humor in their lives. I believe that is what caught Tina's eye. I could make her laugh.

We became an item our senior year, we still hung with the group but the dynamic changed a bit because of us being together. After graduation we both took jobs in the same city and eventually quit trying to sustain false pretenses and moved in together. Twenty months after graduating I asked her to marry me and she said yes. We were married a year later.

I first met Frank and Lisa during Parents Weekend of our sophomore year. It was an informal gathering of our 'gang' arranged to allow the parents to meet the people behind the names they heard so often. With parents, brothers and sisters in attendance the gathering was just a little shy of 50 people. I think I spoke with Tina's parents less than five minutes. They seemed nice enough to me as parents go. She never even met mine that year.

By spring of senior year we each went out to dinner with the other's parents one time when they came up to visit. My parents liked Tina immediately. I wasn't so sure about Tina's parents' opinion of me. Frank was a lawyer who now worked in some nebulously related legal field that was never fully described to me. He was stand offish and our conversations were brief and trite. I figured he just wouldn't be happy with any guy who he suspected was fucking his oldest daughter. Lisa seemed to think a little better of me. She was pleasant, if reserved, and asked questions that suggested a real interest in me.

We saw the parents again at graduation. We made time to share the event with each family and then spent the rest of the day with our own families. Our parents spent very little time with each other, I don't think they had many common points of interest.

After the engagement I spent a number of weekends at Tina's family home as preparations were made. I never felt truly comfortable there. Tina had two younger sisters and it was a constant competition among the three for attention, from their parents and also from me. Very awkward when a college freshman sister of your fiancee is trying to capture your interest by flirting with you all the time. When other people were around Evie was constantly near to me, using double entendre as a code and saying things like "Well, what does Ken think about that idea?" as if she were the only one interested in my opinion.

When other people weren't around Evie would go bra less, wear the sluttiest outfits, rub against or touch me or ask my advice about sex related things. My only means of escape in these situations was to seek out Frank and hang with him. Not that hanging with him meant interaction. Most of the times I was with him he was hammered by three in the afternoon and remained that way until he went to bed around midnight. He was gruff and rude to everyone, his daughters, his wife, the paperboy, not just me. He never spoke to me first, never welcomed me to the house, nothing. I would have been offended but he was the same with everyone, even his purported golf buddies.

Lisa warmed up to me when the engagement occurred. She remained a very prim and proper woman though. Always dressed like the prime example of the suburban housewife with modest, non-revealing clothes. She apparently did not drink, I never heard her swear and she was gracious, even if falsely so, to everyone. I always received a chaste kiss on the cheek when I arrived and a quick hug when I left.

Frank managed to remain sober to walk his first born down the aisle but was well on his way to being sloshed before the receiving line at the reception was done. He spent the majority of his time on a bar stool and there was no Daddy/Daughter dance even though I danced with my mother and with Lisa and Tina danced with my dad.

Exactly one week after the wedding Lisa filed for divorce. Tina and I weren't even back from our honeymoon in Cancun when she filed. Frank was out of the house the next day. Lisa pretty much wiped him out in the divorce. There were rumors of infidelity on Frank's part, perhaps multiple incidences. I found out that Frank had been disbarred during Tina's senior year of high school and was essentially working as a paralegal from then on.

There were even some nasty rumors, communicated in very hushed tones, of incest. Wagging tongues held that Frank had tried with each of his three daughters and had maybe succeeded with Evie, having failed with the first two. A particularly messy pile of crap to hit a newly wed bride on the return from her honeymoon. It definitely put a downer on the start of our married relationship.

Post divorce Lisa seemed to bloom. I never saw her sad about it and in fact she was the happiest I'd ever seen her, including our wedding day. She went hard into aerobics and Pilates and appeared to loose some weight. She started wearing a whole new wardrobe that was far more form fitting and revealing and featured high heels of all varieties all the time. Pumps, sandals and boots, all with nothing less than a 4" and most with a 5" heel were her constant footwear. Except for her workout sneakers I never saw her in anything else.

Initially, Tina and I went to see her mom once, often twice a month to show our support. It didn't appear to me that Lisa needed support, unless it was an under wire bra to hold up a pair of huge boobs that she had somehow hidden from view up until the divorce. I seemed to run into her every Saturday morning as she was returning from one of her workouts in tight yoga wear that left nothing to the imagination. Seams worked their way into her ass crack and provided an unmistakable camel toe. Material was stretched to its advisable limit over her ass, thighs and boobs. After a post workout shower she was in skinny jeans and a tight sweater or blouse, tight shorts and a tighter top or a skirt cut mid thigh or higher. And always with high heels on her feet, even high wedge sandals in the summer.

Six months after the divorce Lisa came to stay with us for a week after having some 'work done' at a clinic nearby. I assumed she was going for a tummy tuck or a face lift or liposuction. I was wrong. After losing about 15 pounds everything was great but 'the girls' were drooping a bit too much so she had them reduced from a D to a C to 'tighten them up', as she herself told me the morning after she came home from her procedure when Tina had run out to the grocery store and I brought Lisa her breakfast.

Now is the appropriate time to describe Lisa. When I first met her you might be tempted to call her 'dumpy'. She was more or less shapeless, with mousy brown hair styled short and little makeup that made her look any more appealing. Six months post divorce she was a different woman. She was still 5'4" but now weighed about 120 pounds. Her body had curves, and I do mean curves, in all the right places and in all the right proportions. She was Goldilocks, because physically everything about her was juuust right. She was pretty, many compared her to Gwyneth Paltrow, complete with blonde hair (dyed, of course but still soft and silky), often in a pony tail, blue eyes and a nice smile.

For the first few days post procedure she was mostly in her room, our guest room, and she was pretty heavily bandaged around her chest. The Wednesday after her Friday surgery Tina took her in for a follow up and the bandages came off. She came home wearing some sort of bra that was especially good for post breast surgery so that she would 'settle' naturally. (I assume these bras were made primarily for women who had breast augmentations, not reductions but I guess the principle was the same.) The swelling was expected to be gone in another week and she could then be fitted for a new bras.

How do I know these things? Hang on, I'll tell you shortly.

Once she returned on Wednesday she was out and about. While her tops were not particularly clinging her bottoms pretty much made up for it. She wore the tightest pants, jeans or leggings imaginable. It must have been one hell of an effort getting any pair of those on and off. Of course, the heels were back as well. And so was the meticulously, albeit sparsely, applied makeup. Wednesday afternoon she drove herself to the nail salon for a mani - pedi. At dinner that night Lisa was looking damn good. She was very happy and was actually looking forward to her 44th birthday party in the next month.

I think it would be absolutely appropriate to describe Lisa as a MILF or a Cougar. She pushed the line right up to the edge between sexy and slutty but never crossed it. One thing that kept her on the better side of that line was the quality of the clothes she purchased. Well made, high end designer names, not cheap, trashy shit.

The second Thursday after her surgery she was declared fully healed. Tina had already missed some work and had an important meeting she could not reschedule so, since I'm in sales, with a flexible schedule and work from an office in our home, I was enlisted to take Lisa to the appointment. Now, you may ask, she's been driving herself for a week why didn't she just drive herself? Damn good question. But when two women gang up on you asking you to do something and one of them is your wife and the other is your wife's mother, you cave pretty quickly and just say yes.

***

Lisa strolled from the exam room into the waiting room all smiles. "All healed," she announced to the room though she was only looking at me. Slipping her arm through mine and clutching it with her other hand she declared, "Let's go shopping!" as we walked out of the doctor's office.

I started to protest, since I hadn't signed up to go shopping, only to ferry her to and from the appointment. I didn't get very far with my argument.

"Oh, c'mon, Ken. I can't wear this compression bra for another minute. I need to get properly fitted for some new bras. And it would be nice to have a man's opinion on how things look," she pleaded. Then her voice took on a different, more sexual tone, "I promise I'll make it fun for you."

When I relented, yet again, she gave me a big smile and a peck on the cheek. "Oh, this'll be great. I'll tell everybody you're my boy toy and I can't buy anything unless it meets with your approval! Take off your ring and put it in your pocket!"

I nearly went off the road. My mother in law, whom you would presume would have her daughter's best interests at heart, was suggesting I take off the ring I had been wearing for less than seven months and pretend I wasn't married. Is this the kind of precedent most mothers would want to be setting with their son in laws? I think not.

My ring stayed right where it was. Lisa didn't seem to mind either way, she just kept smiling (or maybe leering) at me with a devilish glint in her eye.

As we pulled onto the main shopping street of the toniest suburb I looked at all of the expensive stores with designer names. Lisa, apparently, was in her element.

We parked in a lot behind the stores on one side of the street and Lisa took my hand to lead me to the first stop on what I feared would be a long afternoon's trek. Her high heel pumps click clacked on the cement beside me and her ponytail swung in rhythm behind her as she briskly moved to her first objective. I had heard of La Perla before but I had never been near one. I don't think my wife ever paid more than $50 for a bra. Every item in this store seemed to be at least $100 with many well over $250.

Lisa disappeared into a fitting room with a sales woman and after a few moments I heard the saleswoman say, "You're a perfect 32C, Mrs. Stanton."

So much for client confidentiality. And Stanton was her maiden name. What was with the Mrs.?

Lisa then wandered about the sales floor looking at different bras on the racks. Once she had a handful of them she retreated back to the the fitting room. A few minutes later the door opened a little and she peered around the edge at me.

"Ken, honey. Could you come her for a minute and help me?" she trilled like some sweet song bird.

As I grudgingly made my way over to her I asked, "What do you need, Lisa?"

When I reached the door she opened it wider, grabbed my wrist and yanked me inside. I was so caught off guard I stumbled into the little room and she shut the door behind us.

I was staring at the floor as she spoke to me, "I need your opinion. Now you'll have to look at me," she huffed as two finger nails came to rest under my chin and tilted my head up.

I'm pretty sure it's a law that mother in laws are not allowed to be in lingerie, especially expensive lingerie, alone with their son in laws. I know that mother in laws are not supposed to look as good to their son in laws as Lisa looked at that moment.

A black lace bra covered her breasts with the details placed strategically over the nipples so they could not be seen. There was a hell of a lot of nice fucking cleavage in view, however. And a trim little body with a flat stomach and a little green jewel dangling from her navel.

"Shit! Lisa, I shouldn't be here with you like this."

"Nonsense, my boy. I need the opinion of a healthy, red blooded, American male. This is important to me," she appealed, giving me a doe eye look and rubbing a hand on my chest. "I need to feel good about myself again. Please?"

I sighed and allowed my eyes to devour her chest and abdomen. "Lisa, in all honesty, you look fabulous. I can't believe that you had your breasts reduced because those look big, but not too big for your frame."

Baseball, taxes, raw sewage, as I spoke I was trying to think of anything that might keep my traitorous penis from swelling in my pants. I think one of the Ten Commandments is 'Thou shalt not pop a boner when looking at your mother in law.'

I was headed straight to Hell.

I looked back into her eyes and I saw genuine relief and appreciation.

Softly she uttered, "Thank you for that, Ken. It means a lot to me. Even when you're getting rid of a shit heel like Frank divorce is still a hard thing after you've been married for 25 years. You question a lot about yourself, your self image takes a beating. Thank you."

"Don't mention it, Lisa. You have nothing to worry about in the image department. You truly look so much better since your divorce. It's like you were hiding your light under a bushel basket. It's nice to see you shining now." I was trying to reassure her and let her know she was very attractive. I gave her a small peck on the cheek.

Big mistake on my part.

Her eyes lit up. "OK, shoo. I'm buying this one in three colors. Now I need to try on some others so don't go far."

I nearly hit myself in the face in my haste to open the door and escape. The saleswoman, a 28 - 30 year old smokin' hottie gave me a knowing smile. "Don't be embarrassed. Husbands and boyfriends go into the fitting rooms in all the time."

Husbands? Boyfriends? OK, I believe that. How about son in laws, Miss July? How about them, huh?

"Ken, honey?" the door was cracked open behind me and Lisa summoned me again. I didn't look at the saleswoman as I turned and entered.

"Holy shit, Lisa!" I blurted out. A devious smile crept across her face. The bra she was now wearing was some wisps of sheer fabric that only semi contained her boobs and gave a full view of her nipples, which I duly noted, were erect and pressed against the gossamer thin material. Her boobs threatened to spill out of the demi cups at any moments.

Something else was straining against some fabric. Thank goodness it was denim because my dong would have torn through lesser stuff in its effort to become fully engorged. I wanted to put my hands on Lisa's hips and pull her succulent body to me, burying my face in the spectacular tit flesh on display.

Lisa raised her hands to her breasts and and ran two long, red nailed fingers over and around each nipple. I heard her draw her breath in a hiss as she toyed with the rubbery points of her teats. "Do you think my nipples might show through this bra under a blouse or a dress?" she purred.

Somehow the filter between my brain and my mouth was still working because instead of saying, "Fuck, yeah. Those pokies will likely rip through that bra in minutes and probably shred the blouse, too.' I merely said, "Uh, yeah."

I have a way with words.

A wicked smile now crossed Lisa's face. "Good, that's what I want." She took a step toward me and pressed her boobs on my ribs.

"I hope you can feel them, too!"

You could feel them. I was feeling them. This was fucking torture. Her small hand stroked over my erection through my jeans.

"I like it when you can feel hard things through fabric."

My mouth was dry and there was a lump like a tennis ball in my throat. "Jesus, Lisa!" I squawked.

"You need to get out. I'm going to try on one more bra and I can't be showing you the goods, can I?" she teased.

I blew past the saleswoman and out the door. I bought some silly named bottled water at a price higher per ounce than heroin and returned to the shop after downing one to relieve my throat. As I returned to the shop I heard, "Welcome back, Mr. Stanton." from the high priced escort masquerading as a sales person.

'Mr. Stanton?' Where'd she get that idea?

That greeting was followed by, "Oh, there you are honey. I'm just going to put this all on my card, OK?" as Lisa departed the fitting room and headed to the register.