WARNING: This is a dark story featuring cheating, humiliation, and betrayal of people who probably don't deserve it.
If these things do not appeal to you, I suggest you look elsewhere.
And remember: this is just a fantasy. Treat the people in your life with love and respect.
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My wife Erin hated her mother - that much I knew. But she never really elaborated much on it. She would occasionally bring up stories of her mom ruining her prom, or trying to force her into a career path she didn't want, and just how generally inconsiderate she would be, but up until now, it really hadn't been an issue.
We met a year or two after college, online. Erin had a degree in English, and worked at library designing community programs whereas I had a business degree and worked at a branch of my uncle's accounting firm. It was a pretty cushy job, and the good pay and flexible hours made it easier to work around Erin's constant work at the library.
We dated for a while - about five years, to be more specific, and eventually both just kind of decided it was time to get married. It was a low-key thing, my parents were there, and our group of friends, but Erin's only living family was her mom, and, knowing that Erin hated her, we had planned the wedding at a time we knew she couldn't come. So, I had never met her - just heard the stories.
Until now, three years into our marriage, when Erin walked up to me with a distraught look on her face. She held out her phone towards me, and played a voicemail.
"Erin, sweetie, I know we haven't always seen eye-to-eye," a woman's voice said through the phone. It was a somewhat deep voice for a woman, but soft and seemingly pleasant. "But I'm going to be in your city for the next few weeks, and I think we should catch up. I haven't even met your husband! I'll text you on Monday, and we can figure something out."
I looked at my wife, who seemed to be on the verge of crying. I wasn't sure what to do.
"Well, we don't have to meet her-" I started to suggest.
Erin cut me off. "Of course we have to meet her! She's the only family I have left. I'd feel worse if I just ignored her. But..." She shrugged a little. "This is gonna suck. She's so... awful."
I got up to squeeze her into a warm hug. "It will be okay. She'll visit briefly, we'll exchange pleasantries, and then go our separate ways. Easy peasy," I told her.
"Easy peasy," she repeated, sounding a little more confident.
---
I really didn't know what to expect from my mother-in-law. I had never seen a picture of her - in fact, I wasn't even completely sure of her name. I know I had seen it, on birth certificates and such, but I couldn't remember it, which I embarrassingly realized as we both approached our front door to greet her.
Erin looked at me with those big, worried eyes, sighed, and opened the door. What I saw was not at all what I expected.
To understand, I'll need to describe my wife. Erin was beautiful - beyond beautiful. She was tall for a woman, only a little bit shorter than my six feet. She had an athletic, but soft, build, with small hips and a tight, firm butt. Her breasts were perfect for her body - a small but perky handful. But it was her face that blew me away every time I looked at her - a perfect button nose, high cheekbones and full lips. She generally wore her hair in a neat ponytail, and kept it dyed a dark blonde.
Erin worked hard at her fitness - she worked long hours at an unrewarding job, and spent a lot of time compensating with runs and workouts at the gym, rather than eating junk food and relaxing, and it definitely showed on her figure.
Based on her stories, I had expected her mom to look similar, but in a sort of cold and evil way - like an evil mother figure from a Disney movie. But what I saw wasn't that at all.
The woman in the doorway was fat. Fat, and a good four inches shorter than Erin. Fat, and smiling with a warm, chubby face. Fat, with her mountainous cleavage pushed up to her double chin, peaking out what should have been a modest sweater. Fat, and stretching that same sweater to its limit with a massive belly, squeezed into a pair of tight blue jeans. Fat, and reaching out for a hug, with her flabby arms.
I didn't know what to do. Erin didn't move. I stepped forward slightly, and was engulfed in her body as she pulled me in for a hug. She felt so soft and... warm. She smelled pleasant, clearly wearing a lovely perfume. This was not what I was expecting.
I gave her a half-hearted hug back, and stepped back. Erin followed suit, looking pained in the process.
My mother-in-law turned to me. "You must be Tim," she said as she looked me up and down. "Little Erin always did know how to pick 'em. I'm Ellen, your mother-in-law, though you wouldn't know it, seeing as we've never even met!"
She squeezed my arm. "I wish we'd met a little sooner though!"
I chuckled nervously, and looked at my wife, who looked horrified. "Uh, yeah. Well, we're meeting now. Why don't you come in? Erin cooked us a lunch, and-"
Ellen rolled her eyes. "Erin made us lunch? I'm guessing... a salad and some chopped fruit? I'm going to order us some food. Let me get my phone..." she trailed off as she moved towards the kitchen.
"I'm, uh, starting to see what you don't like about her..." I whispered to my wife as we followed, laughing a little bit to myself that Ellen had correctly guess what Erin had made.
Erin chased after her. "Mom, it's okay, we don't need-"
"Nonsense!" Ellen replied, waving her phone at us. "The order's already in progress. Now, tell me how things have been!"
---
We sat down with Ellen for another hour and a half, and awkwardly filled her in on our lives the past few years.
Ellen was... overbearing, to say the least. Well, she was to Erin, anyways - constantly cutting her off, disparaging what she did, getting not-so-subtle digs in on her life.