Mother-in-law Sweet

"Of course!" Mike said, and meant it. "That's what I'm here for. To take your side. I just don't know what your side even is in this."

"Does it matter? It's my side. I'm your wife. That's all you should need to know."

He thought about that for a minute.

"That makes sense," he said. "I promise, I will always take-"

"Michael," came Vivien's voice from the top of the stairs. "Can you come up a moment?" He looked over at Kendra, who rolled her eyes.

"Hang on," Mike shouted back, then sighed. "Ken, honey, I will-"

"Michael? Please." His mother in law's voice took on a stern note.

"Hang *on*."

"Just go," Kendra said. "It won't get any better if you stall."

"I'll be right back," he assured her. "You won't even notice that I'm gone, promise."

"Mhm," was his wife's response as she turned back to the television. "Just...just be careful, okay?"

"Ken," Mike laughed. "She's your mother, not a tiger. I'll be right back. Coming!"

"Sure." Her voice was soft and faraway. Shaking his head, he left the room, and mounted the stairs.

Vivien had retired to her own room, apparently. She wasn't at the top of the stair when he got there. Her door was wide open, casting a warm light down the darkened hall.

"Hello?" He called. "Vivien? Did you need something?" Walking into the bedroom, Mike saw that one of her suitcases was on top of the bed, clearly halfway packed. His heart leapt into his throat as a sudden elation swept through him. She was cutting this visit from hell short and there was light at the end of the tunnel at long last, and he wouldn't have to stumble through any more awkward conversations or hushed arguments he wasn't privy to or weirdly sexual aggression from his wife's own mother.

"Oh there you are, Michael," Vivien walked in from the en-suite bathroom. She was wearing a pair of gray leggings with a subtle geometrical print that took pains to clearly delineate the curves of her lower body, the muscles of her trim thighs, the length of her calves. Her toes were still painted that matte blue, and Mike licked his lips despite himself. She was putting her hair back in a thick pony tail as she entered, thrusting her impressive chest out in the skimpy blue tank top she wore on top. The word "MINE" was spelled out on the front in thick black lettering circumscribed by a heart in black sequins. "I was starting to think you weren't going to come."

"Well," he said, pointedly. "I was talking to my *wife*, your daughter, remember?"

"Of course I remember, silly." Vivien said, walking past him to the bed. Bending over slightly, she reached down and flipped the cover of her suitcase closed. Mike watched the hem of her tank-top rise above the twin globes of her ass, eyes tracing the pattern in her leggings as they dipped deep into the crack of her sculpted behind. Straightening again, she gestured at the bed. "Please, have a set."

"What is this all about?" He asked, suspicious.

"Michael, I just want to talk about what's been going on between myself and Kendra." Vivien gestured at the bed again. "Sit. Please." Somewhat awkwardly, he sat down where she indicated, hands in his lap. "Thank you." She turned and closed the door; the lock slid home with a surprisingly loud click. Turning back around, she leaned against the door, crossing her legs in front of her. She stretched and curled her feet. He shifted, uncomfortably.

"I don't know what you've heard," she began. "I doubt Kendra likes to talk about it."

"Nancy said it had something to do with her senior prom, but not much else." Mike offered, dragging his gaze up from the extended length of her legs to meet her eyes.

Vivien laughed. "Something to do with that, yes." She re-crossed her legs. "Michael, it goes without saying that my daughter and I do not have very much in common." Mike had to suppress the urge to laugh in her face at that. "I don't think very much of many of her decisions, the way she dresses, or her behavior - frankly, I consider her a tiresome bore most of the time, and we have never been particularly close."

"I am not," she said, "a very good mother." Vivien stretched, catlike, drawing the hem of her shirt high above the waistband of her leggings, revealing the flat plain of her stomach, marked only by the faint valley of her abdominal muscles and the dimple of her navel.

"But one thing that my daughter and I do agree on, is that she has great taste in men." One of her hands drifted across her stomach, blue nails lightly scratching the smooth, pale skin. "That mousy child can somehow ferret out and snare the most delightful young studs. Maybe there's something of myself in her after all." Her eyes flickered over Mike, sitting on the bed, and not for the first time, he felt like she was sizing him up like a lioness would an impala.

"But not much." Her hands fell to the waistband of her leggings, hooking her thumbs in and dragging them down half an inch to reveal her hip-bones. "Kendra's a romantic, so she falls in love. And for some reason, they fall in love with her. For a little while." Mike licked his lips. "When Kendra was eighteen, she fell hard for a wonderful young man named Jonathan - they were valedictorians together, though he was on the football team." She uncrossed her legs, and the waistband came down another fraction of an inch; he tried not to think about what kind of panties she was wearing, if any.

"They were inseparable, though he was far out of her league, a beautiful, strapping stud." Vivien bit her lip at the memory. "Basically begging somebody to try and take him away from her." Mike opened his mouth to object, but she talked over him before the words could leave his mouth. "The more time they spent at the house, the more she began to suspect that perhaps Jonathan was beginning to develop an interest in, well, me. There was nothing she could put her finger on, obviously, no evidence for her to find. But she got more suspicious, more angry as time passed; accusing me of trying to steal her boyfriend, trying to ruin her happiness, trying to seduce Jonathan out of her life. I told her she was being ridiculous, of course, but that only made matters worse. She couldn't prove her suspicions, so they only made her angrier and less reasonable."

"Until prom?" He said.

"Until prom, when it all blew up." Vivien nodded. "You see, that child told me that no matter what I tried, I *couldn't* seduce her boyfriend. Those were very dangerous words. I do *not* like being told what to do." A vicious smile crossed her face. "I had no interest in the boy, really. I They're awful lovers, stamina be damned. I prefer men, young men, but men nonetheless. But you see, I couldn't let her be *right*." Vivien chuckled. "You know, I think he really did love her."

"Hold on, you mean you-"

"He showed up in his tux, so tight in all the right places, practically *begging* to be fucked." A shiver ran through her. "And of course it was all so deliciously *wrong*, I could hardly help myself."

"That's sick!"

"It didn't even take very long to accomplish, from the time he arrived until Kendra came down the stairs in her gown and caught us." Vivien's hand drifted between her legs. "I bet you've never done anything so wrong in your life, have you, Michael?"

"Is that a joke? Of course not!" As he spoke, Vivien closed her eyes and pressed her fingers into her flesh through the fabric of her pants.

"Mmmm, I thought not. You're a good boy." She straightened up and withdrew her hand. "For now. Anyway, I'm sure you can figure out the rest of the story. And now you know."

"You're disgusting. If I'd known earlier, I never would have let you into my house. *Our* house."

"No?" She asked, taking a step closer. "You don't think you really had a choice in the matter, did you?" Vivien planted one foot on the bed, between his legs. "Do you think you really could have said no, if I'd decided you weren't going to?" He glanced down at her soft toes with their candyshell paint, and stuffed the memory of how they felt on his lips down as far as it would go.

"Yeah, I do." Mike said, voice a little shaky as he looked back up into her mocking green eyes.

"Michael, you can't even get up now, knowing everything you know." She said. "Admit it: you think I'm far more attractive than my daughter."

"That's ridiculous!"

"Honey, you haven't stopped fondling the panties in your pocket since you came into the room," Vivien threw back her head and laughed. Shamefaced, he quickly pulled his hand out of his pocket. "Go ahead. Try to get up."

Mike grabbed her calf in both hands, intent on removing her foot from where it was planted and storming out angrily; instead, once his hands were filled with warm, firm flesh, touchably smooth in the soft jersey of her leggings, he found his fingers siding up to her knee, then back down again.

"What's wrong?" She asked, softly.

*Everything*, he thought. Mike knew he shouldn't be touching her, knew he shouldn't have kept her panties, knew he should let go immediately and knock her down, run out of the room, find Kendra and tell her what was going on, but...but... he couldn't let go. He knew it was wrong, and that was *exciting*. His hand slid up past her knee, gliding over her thigh, feeling the muscles flex under the fabric. Kendra's legs were thick with fat by comparison.

"Naughty naughty," Vivien cooed, placing her hands on his, and gently peeling them away from her leg. "How about I make this easy for you?" She slid her foot off the bed, and took a step back. Clenching his fists, he stood on shaky legs and walked to the door. Numb fingers struggled with the lock as he heard clothes rustling behind him.

"Michael," she called softly. "Aren't you even the least bit curious about what your mother in law looks like without a shirt on?" Looking back over his shoulder, he saw that Vivien had dropped her tank-top to the floor, revealing a lacy, seafoam-green, mesh-cupped bra that was filled to the brim with milky-white cleavage and just barely offered a hint of the strawberry pink nipples contained within. Mike's hand dropped from the doorknob.

"Poor little Ken-doll doesn't have anything on these, has she?" Vivien cupped one heavy breast, fingers teasing the nipple through the fabric.

"No," he said in a hushed tone, without even thinking about it. His mother-in-law spun on one foot, and hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her leggings. Her back looked as smooth as freshly-poured cream; his eyes came to rest on the tattooed scrollwork rising up above the waist of the yoga pants. The top of the "M" was clearly visible.

"Now," she said. "Do you want to know what kind of panties I'm wearing?" He nodded. "No, say it." Vivien waggled her behind at him, bending slightly at the waist.

"I want to see them. I want to see your panties."

"But what about my daughter?" She said coyly. "What about your wife?" A pained look crossed his face as he struggled with his conscience. He hadn't done anything wrong yet, not really, not anything sexual. He could back out anytime he wanted to, the door was right there, there was nothing keeping him in the room; it was wrong, the whole thing was wrong, but it was okay to be a little naughty, wasn't it?

"Show me your panties," he growled.

"A little aggression looks good on you, darling." Vivien said, and began slowly pulling her leggings down over the perfect curves of her behind. As they came into view, Mike saw that her panties were little more than seafoam-green film stretched tightly into transparency across her hips before ducking deeply into the crevice between her firm, muscular buttocks, only to slip out again into the full pussy pouch in the gusset. He stared as she wiggled out of her pants, eyes locked not on her ass, but the letters stenciled just above it, wrapped in baroque scrollwork - "MYLF".

"What, uh, what does that mean?"

"Oh *that*," she said with a laugh, kicking her clothes away. "It's a little trashy, isn't it? But the boys seem to love it. It's not rocket science, darling." She reached back, and pointed to each letter with a long blue fingernail. "Mother. You'll. Love. Fucking. Really, a silly decision, but it's so very true, Michael."

"I'm not going to fuck you, Vivien," he said in a strangled voice. "I can't have sex with my own mother-in-law! It'll kill Ken-"

"Michael, what did you think you came up here to do?" She gave her behind a little wiggle. "You didn't object to being in here alone with me, even after I left my panties on your doorstep this morning! Admit it: you came up here hoping I'd make you my fuck toy."

"Vivien, look." Mike said in what he hoped was a reasonable voice as he turned 'round to face her. "You're really h- attractive, I can't deny that. I'm not blind. But I didn't come up here to fuck you."

"Oh honey," she said. "I'm the one who decides who fucks whom. Believe me, when I allow that thick young cock inside of me, it will be on *my* terms, and we both know you'll *love* it. You came up here to *get* fucked."

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"I'm talking about the way you love being told what to do," Vivien said, reaching back and grabbing a handful of ass. "I'm talking about how quick you were to scuttle after my bags when I told you to get them."

"I was being polite!" He shouted. "It's what normal human beings do when-"

"Mhm," she said condescendingly. "That's why you were so excited and hard to do what I told you that the first thing you did when you got them here was open them up to look through my bags and fondle my underthings."

"That was an acc-"

"Sure, an accident." she nodded, dragging her hand down across her thigh, bending over at the waist as she reached down to grab her ankle. "That's why you were so eager to accept my invitation to dinner last night, even though you *knew* how much Kendra would hate it." She dragged her hand back up her body, fingers scraping across ivory-smooth skin. "And then you took the first excuse you could to slide under the table and perv on my legs, look up my skirt. Michael, you went so far as to *kiss my foot* that night. You *like* it when I tell you what to do, darling. I told you to keep the panties and you kept them. I told you to come to lunch and you came. I told you to go watch Nancy and her boytoy fuck in the bathroom and you went." Her hand slid up her side as she straightened up. "Look at you - you can't even leave the room without my permission." She cupped one of her weighty tits in her hand, and Mike craned his neck to see what she was doing. "You come when I call, you do what I say, and it makes you so *hard*, especially when what I tell you is what you shouldn't be doing."

Mike tried to take a step back, and bumped against the door. "That's ridiculous," he said. "I'm a grown man and I definitely do *not* need to be told or want to be told-"

"Ha!" Vivien barked, and released her breast, which dropped a fraction of an inch and jiggled slightly in the filmy cup of her bra. "Every young man wants to be told what to do, deep down. It's encoded in your DNA, honey. You don't really have a choice or a chance. Watch." She shot him a knowing look over her bare shoulder. "Michael, unhook my bra, now."

Mike resolved himself not to do it. He didn't need to do it, he didn't have to do it, no matter how curious he was about what Vivien's gorgeous, perfect breasts would look like, free of their constraints. It's not as if he'd never seen breasts before. Kendra's little chestbumps were perfectly serviceable, even if they did look a little like fried-eggs on a board when she wasn't wearing a bra, unlike her mother's voluminous, creamy titflesh. He wouldn't, and it didn't matter how much he wanted to see them bobbing and jiggling, strawberry-pink nipples thickening and rising in the cool air of her bedroom. No matter how badly he wanted to see her cradling them in her hands, to compare them in the flesh with his wife's insufficient little breasts. To confirm what he already knew: that Vivien's succulent tits simply blew her daughter's out of the water.

He wasn't going to do it, it was wrong, it was terrible, it was disgusting even to think about it, even though it was just a little clasp, straining already and it would take very little to just pop it open. Vivien probably wouldn't even know he'd done it and then he'd get to see them while being able to pretend he hadn't done it and if Kendra asked or found out he'd have plausible deniability. But he would know, and that sent chills of excitement up his spine and an electric thrill through his balls.

He took a step closer, one hand rising of its own accord; it took only one pluck of his fingers to release the clasp, which sprang open under the strain of her breasts. His cock pulsed and strained likewise against the fabric of his pants.

"See?" She said, with a sigh. "Doesn't it feel so good to just do as you're told?" Vivien nimbly shrugged the bra off and turned to face him, one slim forearm holding back her tits. She draped the still-warm lingerie over his shoulder. It brushed against his cheek, and his senses filled up with her perfume, sensual and sweet and dizzying.

"You should kneel now," she said, seating herself on the bed, and spreading her legs. Without even thinking about it, Mike did as he was told, sinking to his knees in front of her. His eyes were locked on the creamery-white flesh spilling over the top of her forearm as she held her breasts back.

"Tell me you need to see them," his mother in law said. "Tell me you need to see them more than you've ever needed to see my daughter's."

"Yes," he grunted. "I want-"

"Not want," Vivien admonished. "*Need*. You need them, you thirst for them, you crave them like you've never craved anything before. Say it!"

"Yessss," he hissed. "I need to see your fucking tits."

"Mm," she appeared to mull it over. "Not enough. What if I said you could never see Kendra's little titties ever again after I showed you mine?"

"Yes!" Mike shouted. "Whatever you say, I'll fucking do it." Vivien flushed as a shiver ran through her body. She lowered her arm, leaning back on her elbows. Mike swallowed, mouth suddenly full of saliva as he watched those beautifully full tits swing free of her grasp, skin so pale it was practically translucent, particularly around her nipples, where the pale blue tracery of her veins rushed blood away as they swelled up to fingertip-size.

"I can think of a better use for that mouth," Vivien said, spreading her legs wider. Through the mesh of her panties, Mike could see the thin line of red hair pointing directly at the opaque gusset, which had become dark with moisture. She hooked one long leg around his neck, and pulled him closer. "Come here, Michael darling. Come here and put your face in your mother in law's pussy." Vivien's thighs were silky-smooth, brushing against his cheeks as he was drawn inexorably inwards. Soon, his slack lips were flush with the sopping wet fabric of her panties.

She said one word: "suck." He opened his mouth and suddenly it was full of her sweet, savory pussy juice. Hungrily, noisily, he began to slurp at her still-hidden lips, his body burning with a desire to fill itself up with the taste of her. With every lap, he knew he was degrading himself, knew he was sacrificing a happy future with Kendra, and that knowledge simply drove him to suck harder, swallow more, jam his tongue furiously against her delicate flesh barely hidden behind the panties. Vivien locked her ankles around his back as he pushed himself deeper into her pussy, heels gently tapping against his spine. He grabbed her hips, pulling Kendra's mom into his face as she sprawled out on the bed, hair spreading out in a crimson fan as her back arched.

"That's a good boy," she cooed. "Suck mommy Vivien's pretty pussy." Her hands ran through his hair and pulled on it as he feasted on her cunt. Mike could feel his chin dripping with an obscene mixture of his saliva and his mother-in-law's secretions and it only made him hungrier for more. Her thighs clamped down hard over his ears, and it was difficult to make out her increasingly urgent encouragements; looking up, he could see her head rolling back through the valley of her incredible, mature tits as she mauled one with her left hand. She ground her pubic mound hard against his face, eagerly humping his mouth as it worked against her, his fingers digging into the firm, smooth flesh of her buttocks.