Here's another great story from my pal, and frequent Frequently Felt contributor, Mykola Dementiuk. Enjoy!
They finally had sex a week after the wedding.
She came to look at their new home and after clicking her heels from room to room, her nylons scraping and whooshing, her high tits bulbing and weaving, she spun at him in the bedroom and playfully chided, “I want you to be good to my baby girl!”
Billy blinked at his mother-in-law’s cleaved tits against his chest and stuttered, “I will, Mrs. Gillette; oh God, I will!”
“Please, call me Mom,” she fluttered her long eyelashes, licked her shiny red lips, and raised a mini-skirted thigh into his hardening crotch.
“Mmm,” he barely mumbled as her tongue smothered his voice and she pulled him between her legs and they fell back on the newly-weds bed, part of the bedroom furniture wedding present from her.
Afterwards, she told him what a lucky girl her daughter was to have married a man like him, and what a lucky mother she was to have him for a son-in-law.
But it bothered him; though technically it couldn’t be considered real incest to have sex with your mother-in-law, someone not of his own genetic bloodline, morally it probably was: incest at its worst and filthiest: screwing a family member, and the mother of the bride at that. It may not have fucked up any genetic coding, but it certainly fucked up his head. Besides, his mother-in-law was a much better lay than her daughter, and after that first fucking he was learning to get better at it too.
“I wish I had caught him first,” his mother-in-law winked at her daughter one night over dinner, her foot tapping his underneath the table. “I can just imagine what he’s like in bed,” she sighed, flitting her tongue out the corner of her lips.
Billy gulped, the spaghetti on his fork unraveling, but he shoved it in his mouth and bent his face to the steaming plate, slurping up the pasta but unable to hide his deep crimson flush.
“Mom that’s disgusting!” her daughter sneered.
“What’s so disgusting about having a man like him?” her mother fluttered her lashes and smirked. “I can see you’ve been getting yours…”
“Mother!”
“And it certainly shows that he’s getting his too…”
Billy gagged, coughed, and darted from the room.
“My mother’s an idiot,” his wife said later. “All she thinks about is sex.”
He shrugged. “She’s an attractive woman,” he added.
She snorted. “You don’t think that’s real?” Billy was quiet. “It’s all fake! Liposuction, tummy-tucks, cellulite treatments, silicone implants, facials, she even had them pull up her ass!”
Billy smiled dreamily; his mother-in-law’s ass was as perfect and round and bubbly as some high-school cheerleader’s. “There’s nothing wrong with making yourself look good,” he said.
“Christ! Looking good? She’s old enough to be…well…Cher’s mother!”
He laughed and grabbed her and sang Sonny and Cher’s I Got You, Babe, and they fell into bed as he told her to wrap and cross her legs over his ass so he could plunge deeper into her, --just as his mother-in-law taught him to do.
Three months later they learned of her mother’s pregnancy.
“Mother!” her daughter screamed. “That’s disgusting! At your age! Don’t you take precautions?!”
“Of course I take precautions. I wanted a baby, so I had my tubes untied.”
“You’re 56 years old!”
“I am not!”
“Ha! Don’t you think I don’t know how old my own mother is? You’ll kill yourself! And anyway, who was the asshole who agreed to have a baby with you?”
Her mother smirked, winked at Billy, and said, “He doesn’t have to know, does he? But he is one hell of a man…and I’m going to name it after him.”
Billy gulped; her daughter snorted.
“That baby is sure going to have a lot of names; after every Tom, Dick and Harry asshole at the Red Rose Tavern, right?”
Her mother opened her mouth, contemptuously wove her lower jaw back and forth, and glared at her daughter.
“And don’t forget some of their son’s names too,” she said, and again winked at Billy.
Her daughter looked from her mother to her husband and her brows tightened; his face was red, nervous, yet he always seemed flushed and edgy whenever her mother dropped by; she scowled.
“Name it whatever you want,” she said, and left the room.
That night they had it out.
“Your father hangs out at the Red Rose; did he ever screw my mother?”
“How the hell do I know who my father screws?! Certainly not my mother!”
“That’s disgusting! In-laws having sex each other…”
“How do you know they did?”
She looked at him, than said, “You used to hang out at the Red Rose,” she said.
“So? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Did you ever screw my mother?”
“What?!”
“Listen, I know my mother’s reputation of being an easy lay; did you ever screw her?”
“Jesus Christ!”
“She’s always here whenever I come from work.”
“You’re the one who’s always inviting her for dinner.”
“Just tell me yes or no. Did you ever have sex with her?”
They looked at each other.
“No!” he lied.
“Thank you!” she said.
A month later her mother miscarried and though her daughter was relieved at the ridiculousness of a 56 year old woman bearing a child, she was even more relieved when her mother finally dropped by and sadly said she said she would have named the unborn baby Robert.
“Robert?!” Billy flared. “Who the hell is Robert?”
His mother-in-law smirked. “Let’s see,” she said. “I can think of at least three Roberts at the Red Rose…”
Billy stalked out of the room, mumbling ‘Whore!’ to himself.
That night he tried to get his wife to go down on him, as her mother had so expertly once did, but as usual, his wife resisted and squealed, “That’s disgusting!”
Billy called her a worthless whore, “Just like your mother!” and spun around and fucked her from the rear. When he came, the faces of the three Roberts gelled in his brain, all grinning and smirking at him.
“Whore!” he grunted, and kept grunting.
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