Son-in-law's Summer of Love and Sex

My sexy outfit of choice, better than imagining seeing her naked, I wondered what she looked like in her bra and panty. I wondered what she looked like naked. I wondered if she talked dirty in bed. I wondered what she acted like and sounded like when having an orgasm. I wondered if her pussy tasted the same as her daughter's pussy. Being that she was 18 years older than me, nearly from another generation, I wondered if she sucked cock. I wondered if she'd allow me to cum in her mouth and if she swallowed. While stroking myself, just the mere intimate, sexy thoughts of her dressing and undressing for me maintained my erection and, just imagining Christine in all manners of undress, was enough to make me cum.

As if we were already husband and wife, after having spent so much quality time together walking while talking, crying and laughing, going out to eat, watching movies at home, playing Scrabble and cards, going food shopping, to the theatre, and to the beach together, we enjoyed one another's company. More than just wanting to have sex and more than being hoped for lovers, we were best friends. With a new woman in my life, I was in a better place. My life was different and so much better now with Christine than it ever was with Samantha. A better person than I was before, not as delusional and angry, finally free of her self-centered, self-absorbed, and spoiled daughter, I was happy with her mother.

When I went to the movies with her, accustomed to going to the movies with her daughter, as if we were boyfriend and girlfriend, I still put my arm around her shoulders while watching the film and holding hands. Unlike her daughter occasionally giving me a public blowjob in the movie theatre, too much of a lady, I could never imagine Christine sucking my cock at the movies. Still, she'd rest her head on my shoulder and look up at me with her big, blue eyes during a love scene. As if expecting me to kiss her, her subtle signal, maybe I should have.

Whenever we found a babysitter to go to the beach without the baby, as if we were lovers as well as friends, we'd walk the length of the beach and back holding hands. Then, hot from all that walking, we'd frolic in the water and lay next to one another on our towels with our toes buried in the hot sand. While putting sunscreen on one another's bodies, we touched one another nearly everywhere but the places we both so wanted to touch. Unable to resist the urge, feeling freer outdoors, it's funny how I felt more comfortable taking liberties with her hot body in public, in the water, and on the sand than I did in the privacy of my own home. Perhaps, as if haunted by my sexual feelings, with the walls of my house filled with and hanging on to the sexual desire I had for her, outside it was all play and indoors it was too real.

"Last one in the water is a rotten egg," she'd suddenly say to give herself a lead while racing me to the water.

Hugging and kissing her without tongues while wading in the water, I'd press my Spandex clad torso against her Spandex clad belly. Then, coming up behind her to push and gently rub my bathing suit clad penis against her bikini bottomed ass, while reaching up to cup the underside of her big breasts through her bikini top before falling forward in the water with her, I was incorrigible and she was such a tease.

"Shark attack," I said grabbing her from behind and holding her tight against me while pretending to gnaw on her neck.

"Stephen, you naughty man, be careful with your hands," she said laughing and pushing my hands down away from her breasts while turning to face me. Then turning the tables on me, she'd unexpectedly grab a handful of me. "Tit for cock," she said with a laugh.

Grabbing me more than I ever dared grab her and playing my game with sexually aroused excitement, as if my cock was a tug toy, she'd pull me forward by my bathing suit clad erection while laughing. Then, as if a spark that lit a flame, something between us noticeably changed. After we were thrown together when Samantha left, lust was always in the air before, but it was something more tangible and more deeper than that now. No longer masked by sex, what we had was real affection for one another. What we had was love and we both were ready to move to the next level.

Always feeling so horny and with Christine there to remind me of how much I missed her daughter, the only thing wasn't getting from Christine was sex. The polar opposite, now questioning why I was even with her, not getting anything else from her, the only thing I ever got from Samantha was sex. Just missing the sex, if only I could have all that I was missing from Samantha in Christine, or vice versa, I'd be a happy man. If only I could morph the two women together as one or if only the three of us could live together sexually, my life would be complete. Unfortunately, the three of us living together sexually was as much of a fantasy as Christine wanting to have sex with me. Not nearly perverted and as horny as I was, I knew she never would.

Hoping to see something that I shouldn't see, a flash of her panty in an up skirt or a down blouse view of her bra, I always made sure that I sat across from her or stood over her. No doubt with her feeling comfortable in my house, she trusted me not to take advantage of her by looking. Whenever her knees were a little too far apart to give me an up skirt view of her panty or an up nightgown view of her pussy, I looked. Whenever her loose blouse was unbuttoned enough to give me a view of her bra or her nightgown was leaning open enough to give me a view of her cleavage and a partial view of her breasts, I looked.

Slow to adjust herself and correct her wardrobe malfunctions, was she oblivious to my stares or was she was flashing me? Maybe it was my wishful and perverted thinking but I couldn't help but have the feeling that she enjoyed showing me her body as much as I enjoyed seeing her body. If mother was anything like daughter, I figured she'd be just as horny, just as sexual, and just as an exhibitionist as I was a voyeur. One day, when her knees were as far apart as my eyes were crossed while staring at the triangular piece of cotton between her legs, she looked up from the magazine she was reading to catch me mindlessly leering at her exposed pussy mound and at the impression her camel toe made in her sheer, yellow panty.

"Stephen, you randy man, were you staring at my panty?" She gave me a look of admonishment before closing her knees and crossing her legs.

"Sorry," I said embarrassed that she caught me looking. "With you looking so much like your daughter, I was just thinking of how Samantha used to sit like that across from me. I meant no disrespect. I guess I'm just horny."

"It's okay. It was my fault for not sitting like a lady," she said. "I'm just glad I have on clean underwear," she said with a laugh.

The early morning and late evening with her wearing her nearly transparent nightgown is my favorite times of the day. With the morning, summer sun pouring inside the house, when she stands by the big, bay, living room window looking outside, I can nearly count her blonde, pussy hairs. As if she's standing there naked, I can see enough of her to imagine the rest. After staring at her ass, with her turning one way to look out the window the other way and with me enjoying the nearly naked, side profile silhouettes views of her breasts, always she turns to face me to talk to me and to cause me to quickly remove my stare. Now with her areolas, nipples, and blonde patch of pubic hair clearly visible through her thin nightgown, we'd talk as if she's fully dressed, as if I couldn't see any part of her body, and as if I wasn't aroused and interested in seeing, touching, and feeling more of her.

As soon as she looked away, attempting to memorize every minute detail of her sexy body, I stared at all that I can see of her. After she caught me staring at her panty in an up skirt, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable enough to start wearing a robe, I didn't want her to catch me looking again at what she was showing through her nightgown. I didn't want her to see me leering. Not wanting her to see me staring, I didn't want her to know that I wanted her as much as I had once wanted her daughter.

With her walking around me without the modesty of a bathrobe, with me being so horny, and with me so terribly attracted to her, doesn't she realize that I can see her shapely body through her sheer nightgown? Is she that oblivious to my stares or is she purposely flashing me? Maybe her flashing me was all very innocent. I wondered. Whatever her reason to tease me, whatever her game, innocent or not, I enjoyed the view.

"Stephen. Hello? Weren't you listening? I was talking to you," she said looking at me as if I was drunk. When she looked down at herself, she saw the reason for my hypnotic stare. "Oh, dear, so used to living alone, I didn't realize this nightgown is so transparent," she said pulling her nightgown tightly to the side to look at her hand behind it while giving me an even better view through it. "Were you stealing peeks of my body?"

"Sorry," I said. With me so terribly attracted to you and with me so terribly horny for you, I wanted to rip off your nightgown and have sex with your beautiful, naked body, I wanted to say but didn't. "Stealing peeks of your body? No, of course not. Don't be silly. Don't flatter yourself, Christine," I said with a laugh. "I was just mindlessly staring off in space while thinking of the work I still needed to do for Monday."

In the evening, as if she's a stripper being spotlighted on stage, she stands in front of the television in her thinly, revealing nightgown to clean the screen or to pick out a movie. With no other lights on in the living room to ruin my view, I can see through her nightgown as if she's naked.

"You missed a spot," I said hoping she'd lean lower to give me a longer and better view of her shapely body.

"Where?" She took a step back to look at the TV screen before bending and stretching while showing me all that I wanted to see.

"There," I said pointing and watching her breasts lean forward with her body while imagining that she was hanging her tits over my face.

When she leans in the refrigerator while wearing her nightgown and looking for something to eat, as if she's standing in front of an full body view X-ray machine, she's illuminated by the refrigerator light. Enjoying the voyeuristic view, I take those nearly naked visions of her with me to my room to masturbate over her later.

"Where are the black olives?" She stuck her head out of the fridge to look at me staring at her.

"I think they're way in the back behind everything," I said having purposely moved them there and in the hopes she'd take longer to find whatever it was she wanted.

I wondered if she masturbated over me in the way that I masturbated over her. I wondered if she was just as horny as I was. Horny enough that I figured she'd want to see as much as my body as I wanted to see of her body and as much as she was showing me her body, I made a habit of walking around the house in just a tee shirt and pajama bottoms without underwear and with my pee-hole unbuttoned. Driven by my lust for my mother-in-law, I had become a exhibitionistic pervert. After feeling so voyeuristically horny being flashed nightly and given early morning views of her naked body beneath her nightgown, I couldn't believe that I was relegated to flashing my MILF of a mother-in-law accidentally on purpose peeks of my cock.

Excited by what I hoped I was showing her and by what I hoped she was seeing, I pretended that I didn't know I was so exposed. Trying to tease her in the way she teases me when she obviously pretends that she doesn't know all that I can see of her body through her nearly transparent nightgown, every now and then my cock made a surprise appearance. Just as I hoped she's purposely flashing me her panties, pussy, bra, and breasts, I enjoyed purposely flashing her my cock. Even though she maintained her decorum with constant eye contact whenever I was so exposed, I know she still could see my cock in her peripheral vision.

If only she'd stare at my cock whenever it accidentally on purposed dangled from my pajama, I'd have something to masturbate over later that night. If only she'd take me in her hand and stroke me before taking me in her mouth and invite me to fuck her pussy, I wouldn't have to imagine all that I imagine while masturbating. Then, lost in my lust for her while I unabashedly flashed her, she awakened me from my sexual fantasy of her.

"Stephen. Fix yourself. You're exposed," she said with a little laugh while looking down to stare.

"Oops, sorry," I said tucking myself back inside.

I did it. I flashed my mother-in-law my cock. She looked. She saw my cock. She actually stared at my prick. Imagining her reaching out to touch me and take me in her hand to stroke me before falling to her knees to take me in her mouth, I couldn't wait to masturbate over that little, sexy charade later.

Glad that I was with her alone during the summer, better than any other place, the beach was my favorite place to be with her. As genetically blessed as was her daughter, Christine looked hot in her barely there bikini. Not nearly looking her age, I don't know of very many 48-year-old women who can get away with showing so much of their bodies but I never tired of looking at whatever she was showing. Much like seeing Heather Locklear in her prime in a teeny weenie bikini, whenever seeing Christine in her white, barely there bikini, I imagined seeing her in her bra and panty.

When she went for a dip in the ocean, her soaking wet bathing suit was stuck to her skin as if she was wearing Latex, disposable gloves. Watching her through my sunglasses, when she ran up the sand towards me with her now nearly transparent bikini, I wondered if she knew I could see the shadows of her pink nipples and her blonde patch of pubic hair. When she turned her back to me to face the ocean to enjoy the view or the horizon, she gave me my perfect vertical view or her ass to enjoy. Watching her bend while drying her hair with her towel, she showed me the outline of her ass crack through her bikini bottom.

"That's my favorite bikini," I said using my compliment to stare longer at all that she was showing.

"Thank you," she said. "You don't think it's too sheer? You can't see anything, can you?"

"Nah. Your modesty is intact," I said lying.

In the way she looked at me, I knew she was testing me and teasing me.

Having made me so horny with her display of exhibitionism. Whenever she flashed me her body through her bikini, while her back was turned to me, as if they had accidentally fallen out, I'd remove my cock from the netting of my bathing suit and sit facing her with my cock and testicles in full view. Just as I looked at her when she was showing, I caught her glancing at me when I was so exposed. Making it grow firm without having to touch it with my hand, the hot, summer sun felt good on my exposed cock.

Having as much fun flashing her as I was excited to see her flashing me, with me no longer missing her subtle hints of voyeurism, I wondered if she was getting my not so subtle hints of exhibitionism. Was I making her as aroused as she was making me? Unable to read the signs and unable to get her signals enough for me to take the next step, that is, if she was even sending any signs and/or signals, I didn't know until that night when she appeared at my bedroom door.

"May I sleep with you?"

Her years of running, playing tennis, and beach volleyball shaped her legs, toned her stomach, and perfected her ass. Easily she looked ten years younger from the front. Not that her face was old, her face was beautiful but she was one of those women who, when seeing her from the back, looked twenty years younger. It was my exciting privilege when she asked me to rub sunscreen on her soft, firm, and supple skin.

After watching her flash me and after seeing so much of her exposed body, always I had an erection. Kneeling beside her with my Spandex clad erection so very close to her mouth, I imagined her pulling down the front of my bathing suit, reaching her hand inside, and taking me in her hand before taking me in her mouth. Now that I think about it all of my sexual fantasies of my mother-in-law have the same theme of her blowing me. If only she knew what I was thinking and if only she knew it was her I wanted and not her daughter, I wonder if she'd rescind her request for me to rub sunscreen all over her toned, nearly naked body or if she'd agree to give me all that I wanted from her.

With her on her stomach, her top untied, and the sides of her squished breasts and rounded ass cheeks in plain view, as if she was an alabaster statue carved from stone, I stared at her mesmerized by her beautiful, well preserved body. Concentrating on her back, giving her more of an erotic massage than a gentle rub, it took me a few tries before I summoned the courage to rub sunscreen on the sides of her exposed breasts and massage her round ass cheeks with the slimy lotion. So close to touching her areolas and fingering her nipples, waiting for her to protest to stop my horny hands from touching her where no son-in-law should touch his mother-in-law, I rubbed her longer and slower than need be.

Oozing sunscreen out of the container as if oozing cum from my cock, unable to touch the parts of her that I so wanted to feel, the sexual excitement I felt massaging her was frustratingly anticlimactic. Oxymoronic in protecting my mother-in-law from sunburn with sunscreen when she needed more protection from me and my horny hands than from the hot sun. Once I passed that first awkward hurtle of rubbing my mother-in-law's back and the sides of her breasts, I wished that I could cup her pussy through her bikini bottom and rub her clit while fingering her. I couldn't wait to massage her ass cheeks while slowly and deliberately moving my hand higher between her shapely thighs.

Each time I moved my hand closer to her pussy, as if dizzy with hunger, a wave of sexual excitement carried me away with her to a deserted, tropical island with white, sandy beaches and clear blue and green pastel waters. The higher I moved my hand and the longer I left it there, as if in between the tops of her thighs were her G-spot, I could feel her tense and inhale. Was she embarrassed that I was touching her where no son-in-law should ever touch his mother-in-law or was she hoping that I'd take our relationship a bit further and move my hand higher to finger her pussy? I didn't know. Sometimes unable to read the subtle signs, afraid that I'd make a fool of myself, I couldn't tell if Samantha's mother wanted me to touch her as much as I wanted to touch her.

After having a couple of cocktails in the evening, wine mostly, as if there was the gravitational pull of a full moon attracting us or a giant, imaginary magnet drawing us together, we were on the verge of starting something forbidden. With our words as seductive as our flashing actions, as if we were having pillow talk without the sex, our conversations were laced with sexual innuendoes. For her to not only to participate in the dialogue but also to heighten the dialogue by confessing her naughtiness with her own provocative sexual suggestions, she enjoyed the sex filled repartee as much as I did.

"Before you became a grandmother, Christine, what did you do for fun...grandma?"

"Grandma? Even though I love being Michael's grandmother, hearing you call me grandma makes me feel so old," she said looking at me smiling as if waiting for me to contradict her and I did.

"You're not old, Christine. You're beautiful. You look like you're in your thirties instead of your forties, especially from the back," I said with a dirty laugh.