The Birthday Present

It was my birthday on Sunday, so I'd invited my daughter Anna and her husband Jack to lunch. It was warm day, so rather than do the whole roast beef and Yorkshire puddings bit, I went for cold-cuts and an array of salads; besides which, Anna is entered for a half-marathon next weekend, so those made it easier for her to stick to her training regime. At 11:00am, I cast a final look across the dining table, found all as it should be and gave myself a metaphorical pat on the back.

Anna & Jack weren't due until 12:30 and all I had left to do now was change my clothes; I'd showered earlier and while I'd told the kids to 'dress casually' felt that I really ought to wear something a little smarter than the camisole top and jogging pants which I'd been slobbing around in all morning. I'd barely moved toward the hallway when I heard a car pulling onto the driveway and a glance through the window told me that it was Anna's; what were they doing here so early?

I opened the door before the doorbell sounded to be greeted by a smiling Jack who whisked me off my feet, twirled me around, wished me a 'Happy Birthday' and planted a kiss on my cheek before lowering me back to the floor. Wow! Looking past Jack to see an empty foyer and car, I enquired as to where Anna was? Jack delivered me another of his infectious smiles, looked at his watch and after a moments thought replied: "At a guess, I'd say..., somewhere near Matlock Golf Course."

"What? Anna doesn't play golf."

Jack laughed. "This is true, but Anna wanted to get in a ten mile training run, so I dropped her off in Cromford to run the rest of the way here; she sent me on ahead with her party clothes -- he held a small bag aloft -- and to help you prepare lunch."

"You're too late, everything's done already. I only need to change out of these clothes and I was on my way to do that as you arrived; I'll just be ten minutes."

I was stepping past Jack, heading for the stairs when one of the spaghetti straps on my top was plucked off my shoulder. I half-turned, assuming that it'd snagged on something, then froze in speechless surprise as Jack flicked the strap off my other shoulder and in that same moment jerked the body of my top downward. As the camisole popped over my boobs to settle in a soft fabric circle about my waist, Jack saucily quipped: "Now that's certainly a task I could help you with."

When Jack stepped forward, one hand reaching either side of my shoulders, I finally voiced a small yelp of protest; it didn't take an Einstein to guess where those were headed! I moved to stop him but those damned spaghetti straps were now around my forearms and by the time that I'd pulled free of them, Jack had unclipped my bra-strap and slipped that off my shoulders too, entangling my arms once again.

Jack's audacity drew a further shriek, but concerned as I might be by his exposure of my breasts, that bra too had to go before I could do anything about it; a shake of the wrists, my bra fell to the floor and finally I could raise my hands to cover my embarrassment. They didn't make it even half-way before Jack caught me by the wrists and yelled "No!" I'd struggled of course, but knew from the outset that it'd be to no avail; Jack meanwhile had fallen silent until several seconds later he added, in an almost reverential whisper : "Oh My God; they're fucking gorgeous."

I stopped struggling and looked at Jack; he was staring at my breasts in open-mouthed silence, he appeared awestruck, mesmerised by the sight and my mind tumbled back almost thirty years. The expression on Jack's face was a reflection of that worn by my husband Alan in the first moment that he'd seen my breasts; that was perhaps the moment that I'd fallen in love with Alan and only shortly before he'd given me the pet-name which he'd used until the day he died.

My breasts aren't particularly special, I barely fill my 34B padded-bras, so even on my elfin frame I'm far from 'top-heavy'; Alan's description was always: 'just a nice handful'. To be fair I've come to appreciate them more as the years have passed, they still sit high and firm, while those of my more well endowed friends have long since headed south. What does make them noteworthy however and is the main reason for my invariably wearing those padded bras and bikinis, are my nipples, these are bright-red and huge, both in their diameter and projection; my kids had terrible difficulty with them when breast-feeding, though Alan similarly deemed them 'just a nice mouthful'.

From hungry the look on Jack's face I suspected that he thought likewise, but he then broke into a grin and whispered "Strawbs; as in strawberries?" I couldn't stop a smile as I nodded in confirmation; Jack had unearthed the secret of Alan's Nickname: It was nothing to do with my strawberry-blonde hair as the wider world had always assumed, but a cheeky reference to my nipples. Jack's hungry look resurfaced in the instant before he pressed forward to envelop my right nipple with his mouth.

I know I ought to have struggled, or at the very least raised a verbal protest, but Alan's been dead for almost three years and having him suckle and chew on my nipples was a favourite. I've learnt how to recreate many of the pleasures and sensations which Alan used to provide, but sucking my own nipples isn't on that list; a down-side of having pert breasts. I knew even then that it was wrong - Jack's my Son-in-law for God's sake! - but I'd missed the feeling of warm lips encapsulating my nipples, so in the moment Jack's did, it was a moan of pleasure rather than a shout of rebuke that issued from my own.

Jack's hands released their grip on my wrists, one moving to my right breast as his mouth transferred to my left nipple; his teeth lightly nipped at that one and I finally managed a physical response to his assault, grasping him by the hair. Shamefully, this wasn't to pull him off me but to press his face more firmly against my boob as I implored him to 'bite it harder'. Jack obliged, drawing a further impassioned groan from me in response to which his other hand dropped to my crotch; Jack's palm cupped my whole mons, his fingers biting through the light cotton of my clothing to press into the soft folds of my vulva.

I was now on fire! I bucked my hips forward, forcing those searching fingers ever harder against my sex; at the same time I finally dragged Jack away from my breast, lifting his face to mine and delivered a kiss of an intensity I'd never bestowed on anyone but my husband. Jack's response was equally fervent; propriety be damned, we were going to do it! When finally we broke our kiss, Jack's voice was hoarse with desire: "Get your pants off Helen; Anna will be here soon, we need to be quick."

Jack's mention of my daughter hit me like iced-water; cooling my ardour and giving me pause; I haltingly replied: "No... I can't... you're Anna's..." When Jack didn't respond I added "...but you're so much stronger than me, if you were to rip them off me... I couldn't stop you."

Jack smiled at that, almost a grin: "So that's how you'd like it Helen. I'll remember that for next time; but this time around we share responsibility." I hesitated, but inexcusably that hesitation was for only a few moments; that iced-water had been but a splash, when what I'd really needed was a bucketful!

I stepped away from Jack and all but tore off my slacks and panties, then looking around I promptly sat myself down on the third step of the staircase, with my legs splayed in invitation: "Take me here, there isn't time to go upstairs."

Jack didn't need a second invitation, a moment later his own jeans were below his knees as he moved between my open thighs. His mouth went back to my right nipple -- his bite was just right! - and a hand went back to my now exposed pussy. We both quivered as Jack's finger slipped inside; me from pure pleasure, but I suspect Jack in surprise at the ease with which it'd penetrated; I was as slick as butter!

With an almost bestial growl confirming my readiness, Jack quickly replaced that intruding finger with his cock, it felt rock hard and substantial -- I'd not seen it as he'd knelt between my legs; something else for 'next time' perhaps? - but it still penetrated completely with just two thrusts. I really was hot to trot and if Jack needed any further confirmation of that, my noisy orgasm, three strokes and barely ten seconds later would've no doubt proved adequate.

Jack let that climax subside for a few seconds and then began to piston into me; nothing fancy, neither fast nor slow, just a steady forceful fuck on the staircase. Whether that was for his own control I don't know, but it certainly hit the spot for me; Jack only lasted perhaps three or four minutes before flooding me with his seed anyway, but I'd no complaints, having already orgasmed twice more by the then.

We were still entwined when the doorbell rang; through the obscured glass panels I saw the silhouette of someone slight, slim and long haired; Anna! Pushing Jack off me I grabbed my discarded clothing and sprinted upstairs, as Jack replaced his pants and judiciously waited until I'd reached the sanctuary of the bathroom before opening the front door. I heard their muffled conversation in the few seconds before I turned on the shower and to my relief their tones sounded 'normal'; Oh God, what had I done, Pandora's box was open.

Ten minutes later I was out of the shower and towelling myself dry; there was a light knock at the door and before I could speak, it opened and Anna stepped inside, carrying the small holdall that Jack had brought with him. The colour rose in my cheeks, I couldn't prevent it but fortunately Anna didn't appear to notice and after wishing me a Happy Birthday, enquired "So, do you feel better for that?"

"Er... yes, thanks love; are you having one too?"

A pretty dumb question given that Anna was glowing and her lycra shorts and running top were both soaked with sweat; so her answer caught me off guard: "I hope so; though I'm intending to eat lunch first."

"What? You're sweating like a racehorse, you can't sit down to lunch like that!"

Anna was smiling playfully as she pulled the sport-bra over her head before answering: "Oh, I'm sorry Mum, I think we must be talking at crossed purposes... " The lycra shorts were slipping off and Anna's smile had morphed into wicked grin before she concluded "...It was your fucking Jack that I was enquiring about."

I dropped my towel in shock and if Anna hadn't caught me I might have followed it to the floor; my legs were trembling. "I... I... we... it just... How... how did you know?" That was all I could manage.

Anna helped to to sit on the edge of the bath before I fell: "I'm sorry Mum, I shouldn't have teased you like that." To hear Anna apologising to me seemed so bizarre as to be perverse; I'd just fucked her husband for Christ Sake!

But still I couldn't form a coherent sentence, not even to at least apologise; it fell to Anna to continue: "I know because Jack told me; though finding these on the staircase would've been a bit of a giveaway." I looked up to see an again grinning Anna holding my panties; I must've dropped them as I'd hurried to the bathroom.

"They're wetter than mine and I've just run ten miles; Jack wasn't kidding when he said you were gagging for it."

My complexion was inflamed as my head again dropped in shame and I finally managed to stutter out an apology: "I... I'm sorry darling; it'll not happen again; can you please forgive me "

Though my cheeks must've turned even brighter red when Anna reached down and tweaked my nipple as she replied "Now that Jack's seen these I'm not sure that you'll get the choice; as to forgiveness, there's only one thing I'm struggling with Mum... I can cope with your passing on those mosquito-bite boobs, but your not giving me the nipples to go with them... that was unforgivable!"

Even I managed a weak smile at that one, as Anna chivied me on further: "Come on Mum, get yourself dressed. I need to take my shower and then we can eat lunch, I'm starving after that run and I'm worried that Jack's down there eating everything already; he's always ravenous after sex."

During lunch I eventually regained my composure and thanked Jack -- and Anna too -- for the magnificent birthday present; Anna's response left me open-mouthed once again: "It wasn't a one-off Mum; I'm giving you an annual subscription for Jack's cock, monthly, weekly, or even daily... well, that's up to you."