Mother-in-Law's Tongue

OK, I know it may sound a bit weird to fancy a woman twice my age, but ever since I met my wife I've had the hots for her mother. Not that I ever intended doing anything about it, of course. I value my testicles too much.

Andrea is almost fifty, but looks at least ten years younger. She dresses conservatively, but her body seems to move seductively beneath her attractive (and expensive) clothing.

I met my wife when she was 17 and I was 18. I'm not sure if it was love at first sight or not, but from that moment on I lost interest in other girls. We married a couple of years later. We have no children yet – we decided to wait a bit. Our sex life is OK. Well, we both seem satisfied. Nothing too exciting I suppose and usually within the confines of the bedroom. The occasions when we feel inclined to fool around elsewhere are quite erotic.

We visit Andrea and her bank manager husband quite a lot. They live about fifty miles away on the coast in a five bedroomed house. Although secluded, it's within walking distance of where James works.

I enjoyed my visits there, if only to see Andrea walking around. I can't help myself; all I could think about was what she would look like without the dress or skirt and blouse that she was wearing. Even in my imagination I couldn't fantasise further than that. More than once I had been thinking about my Mother-in-Law while I was fucking Megan.

Andrea was a pleasant enough woman, but not somebody to get on the wrong side of. I often wondered if she thought that I wasn't good enough for her daughter. Not that she had ever said anything or gave any hints to me at all. I just had the feeling that she was simply being polite to me and nothing more.

I suppose that the first time that I realised I had really strong feelings for Andrea was when we were visiting one summer, shortly after getting married. My libido was pretty high at the time, brought about by plenty of sex with my new wife. And in case you are wondering why we weren't getting plenty before we got married – the simple answer is that we didn't get much opportunity to be alone together. Neither of us were virgins, but we had only had full sex with each other half a dozen times before we wed. Although, when I say full sex, I do not include hand jobs and the like. There were plenty of those.

It was, as I said, Summer. We were all in the garden relaxing on sun-loungers on a beautiful day. Andrea suddenly asked if anybody would like a drink (by which she meant a soft drink – she would never serve alcohol during the day). We all said yes, so she slid off of the chair and headed indoors. As she did so, the skirt of her summer dress slid up to mid thigh. When she walked away I had to tear my eyes from her ass as it swayed delightfully from side to side.

I had been reading a book, but I had to lay it down, pretending that I had grown bored with reading for now. It was the only thing I could think of on the spur of the moment to hide the increasingly large bulge developing in the front of my shorts.

Just then, Megan decided that she wanted to see the fruit trees her father had planted a few years before. He went with her and asked if I wanted to come. I told him no and that I would have a look later, thanks. As they walked away, the word 'come' was lodging in my brain as the pressure of the book on my shaft only helped to make me feel even hornier.

Andrea returned with a jug of fruit juice and four glasses. "Where have the others gone?" she asked.

"They've gone to look at the trees to see if there is going to be any fruit this year."

Andrea put the tray on the garden table, poured two drinks and then placed one next to her chair. With the other she walked over and placed it on the grass next to me. I'm sure that I must have blushed, because as she leaned down to place the drink, I was afforded a wonderful view down the front of her dress. She was being careful that the drink didn't topple over and took her time about it. I felt like I was in heaven! The twin orbs were being restrained by beautiful (and brief) lace cups.

She walked back to her own chair, which was positioned directly opposite me and bent over to plump up the cushions. Now the material of the dress was pulled across her ass cheeks, the outline of her panties clearly displaying the fact that she was wearing a thong. I had never in my wildest dreams imagined that she would wear such a sexy garment (that just shows how innocent I am really).

This small amount of unwitting and unplanned voyeurism was enough to make me feel as though I wanted to grab my wife as soon as we got into the bedroom and rip her knickers off.

Andrea sat down on her chair. She then swung one leg after the other up onto the leg rest part of the seat. At the point that her legs were spread widest I could now see her panties. I didn't know I had a photographic memory, but the picture stayed in my mind long after her legs were together again and covered by her dress. She was wearing matching lace underwear.

By the time that Megan returned I had managed to concentrate on mundane things and get my dick back under control. Before I could say anything, she noticed my book, looked thoughtful and said, "Darling, do you know where my book is?"

"I know that it was packed it," I lied. "Come on, I'll help you find it."

I dropped the book to one side, jumped up and took Megan by the hand, pulling her towards the house.

"I wasn't that desperate Ben!" she protested.

We were far enough away from her parents not to be overheard. "No, but I am," I growled.

"Ben!" The mock surprise wasn't very convincing.

I guided Megan up the stairs, slipping my hand underneath her skirt as we went. By the time we reached the top I had grabbed hold of her panties and began pulling them down. It was slowing our progress, so instead I gave a sharp tug and ripped them off to one side. My wife let out a squeal and half turned to remonstrate with me. She lost her footing and toppled forwards.

There she was laying on top of the stairs in front of me, knickers hanging around the top of one of her parted legs, skirt pushed up to her waist exposing her cheeks and pussy. I couldn't wait any longer. I pushed my shorts and underpants down past my already solid lump of meat and just drove into her.

"No! Ben! Not here!" she whispered furiously. But I was too far gone by this time. I just kept plunging in and out of her vagina. Considering how aroused I was, I was surprised at how long it was taking. Even more surprising was how much Megan was starting to respond. She usually required a heck of a lot of foreplay in order to come during intercourse – something that we've not achieved very often. But the telltale signs were there now, she was building to a tremendous climax, exacerbated it seemed by the stair rubbing her clit hard as I fucked her from behind.

Megan's hand flew up to her mouth and she bit hard on it to prevent herself from yelling out. The clenching of her vaginal walls was all that I needed and I began to shoot copious amounts of my sperm into her.

Having finished, I slumped down on Megan's back, my dick still buried within her. After a couple of minutes she stirred and said, "We can't stay here Ben. What would Mummy say if she saw us like this?"

It was probably the wrong thing to say just at that time. I could feel my cock hardening once again. I slipped out of her, put my hands under Megan's armpits and lifted her to her feet. I kissed her gently on the neck and as she turned to look at me I picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. No mean feat with my shorts and underpants slipping down towards my ankles.

I think that Megan was still stunned by her powerful orgasm. She didn't protest as I lay her on the bed and removed the rest of her clothes. She could see from my hard-on that I was still very aroused, but so was she. Right now I wanted to feel her lips on my shaft. Although she frequently sucked on my dick, she has always refused to do so if I have been inside her first.

"Megan," I said hoarsely. "I really, really need you to suck my cock. Please?"

A wicked grin spread across her face. My heart skipped a beat when she said, "Alright, but only if you do the same to me."

Before I could work out how, she pulled me down onto the bed, rotated her own body through 180 degrees and sat astride me. I looked up at her pussy as a dribble of my come oozed out from between her puffy lips and dropped down onto my chin. Now I understood fully what she was asking me to do. I felt her mouth close around my dick as her slit descended towards my face.

We had tried 69 before, but this was a first and if I wanted a blow job, then I was going to have give Megan what she wanted. I tentatively extended my tongue and flicked it across her clitoris. Her reaction was to push her pussy down onto my face. I began to lick and suck, aware that what I tasted was more than just her juices. I realised that it didn't taste too bad and soon lost myself in my task.

Meanwhile, further down my body, Megan was giving me the greatest blowjob I had ever experienced. She was working me so well that it didn't take long for me to arrive. With my own mouth full, I couldn't even warn her that I was coming. But it didn't seem to matter. Usually, she would stop sucking and then finish me off by rubbing. On the few occasions that I had ever come in her mouth she had spat my cock out immediately (along with the initial spurt) and used her hands for the rest of the process. This time however, I felt my balls unloading into her throat, but she didn't withdraw.

She actually swallowed every drop and was still sucking even as my dick began to deflate. When she finally withdrew her lips she said, "I hope you enjoyed that, because you are going to stay down there until you make me come again, you naughty boy. Come on Ben, get licking. I want to come all over you."

I don't know how long this went on for, but when Megan finally orgasmed, she ground herself down on my face and stayed there for some time. It was only when I began to desperately slap at her backside that she realised that she was suffocating me.

We lay on the bed kissing and cuddling for a while, both of us exhausted. "You realise that Mummy and Daddy will be wondering what's happened to us?" said Megan.

"Maybe they can guess," I replied. "Maybe they do the same sort of thing when we aren't around?"

"Ben! That's gross!"

Maybe she thought it was gross, but my dick was starting to twitch again and I took the opportunity to unload a third time in such a short period.

*****

Chapter 2

From that point on, when we went to visit Megan's parents our sex life seemed to improve. I got horny because of being close to Andrea, while Megan got hot because she knew I was permanently randy.

It was about a year later that we went up to spend a week with Mr. and Mrs. Thompson. We had both taken time off work. Andrea (of course) didn't work, but her husband still had to visit the bank each day.

I suppose it was fate that we just happened to be staying at the house at the time. Even more so that Megan had decided to go out shopping with an old school friend for the day, taking the car with her. This meant that, to all intents and purposes someone might have assumed that only Andrea was at home.

I had been fixing a leaky tap for Andrea when I heard the doorbell ring. The front door banged against the wall. Andrea started a scream but it was cut off. Something was wrong. I rushed out of the bathroom and like a fool hurtled straight downstairs into the unknown.

It didn't remain unknown for long. I skidded to a halt, eyes focused on the two round holes at the end of a sawn-off shotgun. "Who the fuck are you?" demanded a voice from a few feet behind the barrels.

"I'm... Er... I don't know. I mean, my name is Ben. Ben Tasker. Who are you?"

The steel pressed against my forehead. The voice became even more threatening (if that was possible). "How would you like an open-topped head?"

Without moving the gun he turned to Andrea who was being held by two more men wearing ski masks. "What's he doing here?"

"He's my son-in-law. Please don't hurt us. What do you want?" Andrea was clearly scared, but was keeping her cool.

"Well, we're going to be your guests for a couple of hours. Then we're going to make a little call to you husband and when he gets home we'll be leaving."

Andrea was puzzled. "But why?" she asked.

I was a bit quicker off the mark and somehow took courage from Andrea's bravery. "They're bank robbers. They'll call James and tell him to bring the money home with him, that way they won't be on CCTV and can get away cleanly."

Maybe I expected him to be impressed with my astuteness. Unfortunately, he wasn't that intelligent and brought the shotgun sharply down on my head. It didn't actually knock me out, but it forced me to drop to my knees.

"Tie them up." The leader ordered. I was picked up and dragged into the living room where I was thrown onto the couch. I was still incapable of responding, so they bound Andrea first, tying her hands behind her back. They flipped me over to secure my hands and I landed on Andrea. As they tied my wrists together I lay with my face pressed against her breasts. All I could think of at that point was that I hoped that I wasn't bleeding on her. When they finished, they hauled me upright and left me sitting next to my Mother-in-Law.

While one of the men kept a gun trained on us, the others went in search of alcohol. Unfortunately, there was very rarely any beer in the house, which meant that they raided the cocktail cabinet and pulled out the bottles of whisky and brandy.

The men turned the television on to keep themselves occupied. "You got any good DVDs then?" the leader asked.

Andrea shrugged. "They're in the cabinet over there."

The robber walked across to the cabinet and opened it. He began pulling out cases and, having looked at them, tossed them to one side. "This is all bollocks," he said. "Where's your good stuff?"

Andrea looked at him blankly.

"Come off it darling, don't play the innocent. Where's the stuff you watch to get your knickers wet?"

Andrea's mouth dropped open. She spluttered, "How dare you! We don't have that sort of thing in this house!"

Behind the mask, a sly grin crept across his face. "I see. So what do you use instead?"

Again a blank look.

The man walked across the room to stand directly in front of Andrea. His tone was intimidating, menacing, as he said, "What do you do to get yourself turned on? What's makes that pussy of yours start to squirt? What makes you beg for a fucking?"

I could tell that Andrea was beginning to get frightened, but I was impressed that she continued to remain calm. I felt I had to try to intervene. "Leave her alone," I said in as quiet and reasonable tone as I could. "You're here to carry out a robbery. Try and concentrate on that, will you?"

The eyes in the ski mask glared at me. It looked as though I was about to get hit again. He raised the gun, but before he could bring it crashing down on my skull, Andrea spoke up, "Stop! Please don't hurt him anymore. He was just trying to protect me."

The gunman paused and looked back at her. The gun was still raised. "Go on then. Answer me and I won't hit the little bastard."

I was half expecting Andrea to ask him what the question was again and I was bracing myself for the blow that would follow. But instead, she looked away and told him, "My nipples. They're very sensitive. My husband knows I like him to play with them."

I know that I was in a dangerous and potentially lethal situation and that sex should have been the last thing from my mind, but – so help me – all I could think about was this vision in my mind of Andrea's breasts, crowned with dark, erect nipples.

The other two men were sitting in chairs watching. "Well, as you haven't got any DVDs for us to look at, maybe we should have a look at your tits instead," he said.

"Come on guys. Robbery is one thing, but if you go any further they'll throw the book at you," I said, wishing I hadn't.

"But only if we get caught, smartass." He turned to the others, "Tape his mouth shut. I'm fed up with his crap."

A length of gaffer tape was slapped across my mouth, as the masked gunman turned his attention back to Andrea. She was wearing a cream, pleated skirt and white blouse. He reached out and began to unbutton it, very slowly. I could hear his breathing becoming heavier. Having unfastened the last button, he tugged the remaining material out from the waistband and pushed the garment open.

I turned my head away, embarrassed to be watching Andrea's discomfort. "Oh no you don't!" said our attacker. "You're going to watch this. I think you might enjoy it too." He laughed; it was a coarse, throaty sound and he used the barrel of the gun to turn my head back. I had no choice but to watch.

Andrea was wearing a white bra, the lace material of which did nothing to hide the dark circles of her nipples. The material looked very soft and very fine and from where I was sitting I could see that the nubs had started to rise already. The masked man reached out with one hand and took hold of one. He pulled on it and rolled it between his finger and thumb. When he was satisfied that it was fully erect he moved his attention to the other and did the same to that one.

The nipples were about half an inch in width, but poked out almost three quarters of an inch. I was amazed that I had never noticed them before now.

"Oh very nice indeed," he said. "But I think that maybe we should see those tits of yours without the bra." The man transferred the gun into his left hand and reached into his trouser pocket. He pulled out a knife and flicked it open.

"Hold still darling," he said. The flat edge of the blade slid up under the material holding the two cups together. It was sharp and the merest tug cut through and parted the bra. He carefully closed the knife and put it away, before releasing Andrea's breasts and exposing them for four pairs of male eyes to see.

They were big and round, yet they sagged very little. In fact they were magnificent. If my mouth hadn't been taped, I think that I would have been drooling with my tongue hanging out.

The man sat astride Andrea's legs and brought his head down to her left breast. "We'll see now, shan't we?" he whispered. I could see him sucking the nipple into his mouth, and then rolling it around with his tongue. He'd transferred the gun back to his right hand and was using his left to play with Andrea's other tit.

She began to breathe more heavily and I realised that she had told the truth; she really did get turned on by having her nipples sucked. I couldn't stop myself from wishing it was my mouth instead. My cock was hard now and I hoped that Andrea wouldn't notice. The man had transferred his attention to the other side and used the gun to continue rubbing the saliva wetted one.

Andrea started to gasp aloud. I was beginning to wonder if it would be possible for her to come from nipple stimulation alone, when the man stopped and sat back up. "I reckon you may have been telling the truth you little slut."

He stood back up and pushed his feet between hers. He knelt forward until he was kneeling on the edge of the seat, pushing Andrea's legs open. He widened the gap between his own knees, forcing hers even further apart. He put the barrel of the shotgun under the hem of the skirt and lifted. I don't know what he could see at this point, but he made a sharp intake of breath and raised the skirt higher. That was when her stocking tops came into my view.

I had no idea that Andrea wore stockings. I'm always trying to get my wife to wear them, but it's very rare that she does.

"Fucking hell! Take a look at that!" The other two men got up out of their seats and peered over his shoulder. "It looks like she's wet herself. The horny bitch is so turned on that she's drenched her knickers!"