Under my MIL's Dress Pt. 01

Hello.

I'm very sexually attracted to my mother-in-law, nothing out of the ordinary you might say.

She's just turned sixty, she's still fresh in mind and body with a beautiful face glowing under her brown hair, she's got lovely slender legs, a little arse that I'd love to take her in some energetic doggy-style and, while -curiously- I'm usually more attracted to more generous breasts, her little pair of tits really turn me on.

I recently stole a bra from her for my masturbatory sessions (a bra I replaced with a new one, which I "offered" to her (see my story: My mother-in-law's bra), and thought I'd leave it at that; occasionally masturbating with her lingerie.

But one afternoon, everything changed.

We used to go for walks together, with my girlfriend of course, and Marie-Christelle's dog. It was on this occasion that I noticed that she was wearing the new bra I'd left in her hamper, an experience I've already recounted.

That afternoon, she arrived much earlier than expected.

I recognized her through the opaque glass of the door, and - without thinking too hard - I naturally opened the door for her, somewhat forgetting that I was shirtless, as is my habit when I'm at home.

I kissed her, placing my hand lightly on her back as usual to discreetly feel whether she was wearing a bra or not.

She stepped back a little and seemed amused to see me like this, then noticed my tattoo on my arm and - to my surprise - rubbed it lightly with the tip of her forefinger, saying: "Oh, is that a head?

The touch electrified me completely. And it took me a few seconds longer than necessary to stammer out a half-understandable "no".

I imagine she understood the turmoil into which she had suddenly plunged me, without perhaps imagining its significance.

Then, noticing my second tattoo on my chest, she also touched it with her fingertips, but in doing so, she caressed my left nipple, a particularly erogenous zone for me, with the edge of her hand.

I flinched and let out an uncontrollable giggle of pleasure, which stopped Marie Christelle in her tracks.

She suddenly looked at me strangely.

"Are you all right?" she asked, amused and vaguely worried.

It's true that this spasm could pass for a shiver of pleasure just as easily as for sudden discomfort.

I could have played that card, but I decided to tell her the real nature of my reaction.

Firstly, because I think she'd understood that I hadn't felt any pain - quite the opposite, in fact.

Secondly, because my girlfriend was getting ready upstairs and I probably wouldn't have many more opportunities to be alone with her.

And lastly, because I was wearing a pair of light sand-colored jeans that were a hair too close to my body, revealing my swollen dick through the material.

"Uh, yeah...it's okay..." I finally articulated.

"But...uh...this kind of contact excites me"...I continued.

She said nothing, urging me on:

"In fact...you...you excite me a lot, Marie Christelle".

I feared her wrath, for after all I was supposed to be in a relationship with her daughter, but when I dared to look at her, she flashed a somewhat ironic smile.

"Oh yeah?" she said simply, all amused... "Me? Do I turn you on?"

Without waiting for my answer, she approached me lightly, left arm down, fingers pointing to the floor, she lightly stroked my cock with the fat of her palm in small circular gestures. My cock was on fire, ready to explode.

With her right index finger, she also teased my nipple; I think she was enjoying discovering this hold over me, who's usually rather bossy.

Since my girlfriend still wasn't getting off, she got bolder. She wrapped her fingers around my cock as best she could and began to pump it gently through my jeans. She could see from my congested face and jerky breathing that I was enjoying it. Of course, I'd never have believed she'd react like that, and even though I wanted to slam her against the wall and rip off her clothes, I couldn't move because the pleasure she was giving me was so intense. She quickened her pace and, all too quickly for my liking, I released a stream of hot, sticky cum into my shorts, dampening and staining my jeans in the process.

Not a very pleasant sensation and very frustrating, especially as my girlfriend had chosen this moment to finally get off and leave with us.

I hastily put on my T-shirt - just long enough to hide the stain - under the mocking gaze of Marie Christelle, who didn't fail to make fun of me during the walk with little remarks like: "Are you okay? You look like you're having trouble walking"...

It made me a little angry that I'd given her so much control and made her feel like she was dominating me.

I promised myself I'd turn things around, and a few months later I finally got the chance.

In the weeks and months that followed this wonderful incident, I deliberately kept to myself.

Of course, our relationship had changed somewhat... We laughed more often, sometimes brushed up against each other when we passed each other at her or my place, a hand lingering on her arm, I think I even brushed against her buttock one day (mmmh), a few more intense glances...

But I was deliberately playing the timid coward, I wanted to give her the impression that she was intimidating me so that she wouldn't see anything coming the day I was going to take matters into my own hands. And that she wouldn't be able to really react.

I looked at every opportunity. For example, I'd established an unspoken ritual of helping her clear the table when we went to her house for dinner.

Little by little, his children, my girlfriend & my mother-in-law's partner got into the habit of seeing us working together, while they sat chatting at the table, or enjoying their coffee shooters.

Whenever one or other of them wanted to help us, I'd act offended and - as a model son-in-law - tell them to enjoy these few moments of relaxation while I got on with my work.

This allowed me to be alone in the kitchen with Marie-Christelle, but without trying anything crazy. Firstly, I said, because I wanted to remain a little naive in her eyes; but also because the kitchen was in dangerous proximity to the living room. The idea was above all to develop complicity, create opportunities and lower her guard, the day I decided to launch hostilities.

It was on New Year's Eve that my long weeks of patience were rewarded.

That evening, Marie-Christelle had not only invited us and her two sons, her partner was also present, as were a couple of her friends.

When I opened the door, I was delighted to discover her outfit: she'd pulled out a pretty little black dress, streaked with red on the front, with a charming bow on the back. The dress stopped just above the knee. She sublimated her legs with nylons (the first time I'd seen her wear them) and wore pretty pumps.

Another huge plus for the evening was the fact that all the guests were seated in the Veranda for dinner. This created a welcome distance between us and where the guests would be sitting. Not to mention the fact that the kitchen, especially when the door was closed, was nowhere in sight from the veranda. We were going to have to play it tight, and I decided to attack as soon as possible.

It was my mother-in-law herself who gave me the opportunity.

"Are you coming to help me with the aperitif? Naturally, she had noticed my delighted expression as I uncovered her dress.

A soft "Need help?" was heard, to which Marie-Christelle and I replied in unison: "No, no, we'll be fine!".

As soon as I entered the kitchen, the door closed and I was out of sight of the veranda where discussions were in full swing, I told Marie-Christelle straight away that I thought she was really beautiful this evening... She smiled a little, as if to let me know I was being very kind...

Then I added point-blank: "and you're really give me the hard-on".

She seemed very surprised that I would say such a thing, but didn't seem to mind.

She turned to the table where the glasses stood, ready to fill them (and perhaps also because she'd sensed my level of excitement), but I didn't give her the chance to act as if nothing had happened...

I positioned myself behind her, took her right hand and placed it firmly on my cock: "look, because of you...".

She froze. I think that the touch of my cock provoked the same thing in her as the first time, I think that she wasn't too used to getting a guy hard anymore and that she liked it, and that the impression of dominating me pleased her a lot too.

Without giving her the chance to turn around, I pressed myself against her, trapping her hand between my cock and her ass. I brought my hands to her breasts, which I began to caress. She let out a little "hoot" of surprise, and maybe a little panic, and stammered out a few words... That the guests could come in at any moment, that we didn't have time for that now, and that...

I was miles away... I mean, FINALLY, I was kneading her little tits; on which I'd jerked off so much with her stolen bra...

Her globes were tiny, non-existent, but she was pointing hard under her dress and she must have felt in her hand the violent pulsations of my cock...

Without really answering, I whispered in a suave, slightly evil voice: is that a bra I feel there? Your dress is too clingy to wear one, it wrinkles and the bra fastener is quite visible when standing behind you. We'll take it off for tonight, okay?

I could feel her panic rising, along with a little anger...

"But... Are you crazy? What's wrong with you tonight?"

I had the delicious sensation that her voice was quavering a little, betraying a certain panic. Did she realize that the sweet, naive & shy son-in-law had been replaced by the determined fetishist that I really was?

I set about unhooking the bra, but she protested, genuinely panicked:

"No, no, no! Not in front of my friends, not in front of my sons..." she implored.

"Bah", I replied... " Your sons sucked your tits when they were little, didn't they?"...

Feeling her tense even more, I kissed her on the neck, which surprised her and relaxed her at the same time...

"Come on, Marie Christelle" I began, stroking her hair...

"Do you realize how much it will turn me on to see you bra-less under that dress? You're a very beautiful woman, don't you think your partner will appreciate the view? Even your girlfriend's boyfriend here tonight? Three cocks minimum...stiff, for you?"...

While caressing her nipples, rolling her hardened nipples under my fingers, I added: "Anyway, darling, tonight, I'm the one who decides... You're not leaving this kitchen with that bra...".

From the veranda, someone shouted that she was getting thirsty... Without turning away or interrupting my caressing of her breasts, I replied with a powerful "We'll be there in a few!"

Then, to finish convincing her, I concluded the discussion with "Come on, I'll get it out of you before anyone comes"...

I stepped back a little, quickly unhooked the bra through the dress, then tried to free her arm from the dress to remove the strap, but it wasn't wide enough... and didn't have a zipper. And there was no zipper...

Marie-Christelle tried to regain the upper hand: "You see?" she said again, a little annoyed... " There's no way to remove the support without taking off the dress... Come on, let's fill up the aperitifs and..." but I didn't let her finish...

I pressed myself against her again. My cock stiff against her ass... Gently but firmly, I repeated that she's not leaving this kitchen with that bra...

Quickly, I grabbed a pair of scissors lying on the table, good big ones with the wide red plastic tips on the ends and, before she could protest, I pulled her strap out from under the dress, gave it a good tug and...Knip! I cut the strap clean off.

Taking advantage of her stupor, I proceeded to do the same to her left shoulder strap and she turned to me, rather venomously:

"Are you stupid? Did you just ruin it?" she exclaimed in disbelief...

In one swift movement, I slipped my arm through her sleeve hole and grabbed the front of the bra, which I pulled off briskly. I brandished it in front of her face; not willing to let it go:

"Look," I said, waving the bra in front of her face... "An old lace bra, not so white anymore, with a tired quality. Your tits are better than that! I assure you we'll go out and buy some together...".

Then, with a big, ironic smile, I added: "And check out the view," I said, pointing to her torso.

The two little bulges that used to be her breasts were clearly visible under the dress, sublimated now by two clearly visible hard nipples.

She looked down and flinched at the sight of her breasts so molded in the dress, but I gave her no respite!

"Come on, let's take these aperitifs to your friends"...

End of Part One.