Mother & Mil Compete Over Him

It had been ambitious to attempt it, and despite knowing that before I'd started, it hadn't put me off. I was young, only twenty five years old, so I was invincible. No challenge was too much for me. Two days ago I'd successfully completed a three mile run, and it had been easy, so why would six miles be a problem? I'd even thought about making it nine miles, but I'd settled on six.

At the halfway point I was going strong, so I increased the pace. When I'd completed four miles I was flying. This was as easy as my previous run. However, shortly after, I got a niggle in my right calf. It was nothing to be worried about, so I didn't slow down. But when, after only another five minutes, it got worse, I knew that it was a problem. That's when I should have stopped!

-

"You're limping."

I was, only slightly, but my Mother notices everything, no matter how small, especially if it's anything to do with me. I'm her only child, her pride and joy, so my wellbeing is very important to her. I like that, it makes we feel special, it makes me feel loved. But sometimes the attention I receive from her is too oppressive. That might happen now if I don't manage to convince her that it's only a minor injury. I don't want her calling a doctor, or insisting that I should go to a hospital.

"It's my calf, from running. It will be OK in a few days. It's nothing to be concerned about."

"I can get you some ice."

I shook my head, and then I explained to her that I'd already done that. Thankfully, that was the end of it.

Half an hour later, my Mother-in-law arrived. And without needing to ask, I knew why she was here. Like my Mother, she'd brought me a meal. Emma, her Daughter, was away on a business trip for three weeks. I was just a man, so there was no way I would be able to survive without them bringing me food. I'm grateful to both of them, but they're wrong. I don't need them to fuss over me. I'm an adult, someone who is more than capable of looking after myself. I own a successful business that employs fifteen people. I achieved that by being resourceful, so Emma being away isn't a problem for me.

I did try to hide it, but I wasn't surprised when my Mother-in-law noticed it. Her powers of observation are almost as good as my Mother's.

"You're limping."

Again, I was going to have to play it down.

After shrugging my shoulders, I said, "It's nothing, just a minor running injury. When Emma gets back she'll massage it for me."

That should have been enough to ease her concern, but it was obvious from her expression, that it wasn't. While I was desperately trying to think of something to say, so that she wouldn't make a meal of it, she said more.

"You can't wait that long," and then she added, "I'll massage it."

I did my best to say no, but she wouldn't let it drop, so eventually I gave in. That pleased her, but despite my Mother's best efforts to conceal it, I could tell that my Mother was now angry.

To understand why she was angry, you have to know more about her relationship with my Mother-in-law. In a nutshell, it's because she sees her as a rival. I'm her Son, and she wants me all to herself. My Mother-in-law was going to do something for me, and she didn't like that. If anybody was going to give her Son a massage then it should be her. For some reason, Emma, who gets most of my affection, isn't a problem, but her Mother definitely is. And this jealousy is reciprocated, but to a lesser extent, by my Mother-in-law. As Emma likes to say, even though she knows that it irritates me, "You have two Mothers."

Until my Mother left, on the surface, it was all sweetness and light. Both of them were extremely polite to each other. However, a close inspection would have revealed the truth. My Mother, given half a chance, would have happily bitch-slapped her rival, and my Mother-in-law had desperately wanted to gloat.

"Now that she's gone we can start."

I wanted to just roll up my trousers, but she said no. She then couldn't resist having a dig at my Mother.

"That might be OK for your Mother, but not for me. I want to do it properly."

I was going to protest, to defend her, but then I decided to let it go. Instead I took my trousers off, and then I lay face down on the bed.

I'd reluctantly agreed to the massage, but after only a few minutes I realised that it had been a good decision. She was very skilled at it. The tender spot on my calf was receiving just the right amount of pressure. It was uncomfortable rather than painful. Strong enough to help the healing process, but not excessively so.

"Now for your other leg."

That one wasn't injured, but if she wanted to massage it then I was OK with it. When she'd finished on the calf, her hand went higher up.

"I'll do both your thighs and then I'll finish."

For ten minutes she did that, and it was so relaxing, that I almost fell asleep. When she removed her hands, and then said, "Finished," I was longing for more.

As I got off from the bed, she looked away, to give me some privacy while I put my trousers back on.

"Thanks, one day I'll return the favour."

And I'd meant it. It wouldn't be a running injury, but she might sprain her back, or twist an ankle. Whatever it is, if a massage will help then I'll offer to do it. I'd said the right thing, because her face was beaming, and when she spoke, she confirmed it.

"I'm definitely going to take you up on that."

And she did, but not at some future date. She wanted me to massage her right now!

She wasn't injured, and she didn't have any aches and pains, just some minor stiffness in her legs. A massage wasn't really necessary, but I'd made a commitment, so I needed to honour it.

For my massage, I'd been face down on the bed, and below the waist I'd just had my underwear on. She did the same. However, there was a big difference between my boxers and her panties. My boxers were large, covering a lot, whereas her panties were small, revealing a lot. As I massaged her calves my eyes kept being drawn towards those small panties, and what it was only just managing to cover.

My Mother-in-law is fifty years old, but she's still an attractive woman. She's curvy in all the right places. Her breasts are impressively large, and she has a bottom that can only be described as peachy. Of course, because of her age, she has imperfections. For example, a few extra pounds around her waist, and some wrinkles on her face. But those don't distract from her beauty. She's a woman, that if she offered herself to any straight man, very few, if any, would turn her down. Reluctantly, I'd have to be one of the exceptions because she was my Mother-in-law.

And now, this woman that was off-limits, is exciting me in ways that she shouldn't!

Tight, doesn't adequately describe her underwear. It looks like it's been painted on. As I massage her legs it makes her bottom wobble. Not much, but it's enough to excite me. Watching it do that is so erotic. My cock isn't just aroused, it's rock-hard. As hard as it's ever been.

It's torture, because I want her, but I can't have her. Despite that, I keep going, wanting it to never end. When she eventually asked me to stop I'm both relieved and disappointed. But surprisingly, she quickly changes her mind.

"That was nice, please do my thighs."

That was unexpected, and hearing it made me gasp, so loud, that she might even have heard it. I hadn't dared go beyond her knees, and now she was asking me to go higher, much higher. When I opened my mouth it was to say that I couldn't. I had other things to do that were much more important. However, when I couldn't think of even a single excuse, I found myself simply saying, "OK."

With my heart beating as if I was running, and my mouth suddenly dry, I started. As my hands massaged her firm thigh, I told myself not to be silly. A few deep breaths calmed me down. When I moved over to her other thigh my cock was behaving itself. It was almost limp. It was back to just being a massage, and I was now confident that it would stay like that.

"Is that better?"

When I didn't answer her, it was because I couldn't speak. I'd opened my mouth but nothing had come out of it. She must have taken my silence as a no, because she moved her legs again. They were now even wider apart.

"That will make it easier for you."

With my ability to speak miraculously restored, I mumbled a quick thanks, and then I got back to work, but my mind was on something else. Her pussy!

She'd obviously done it to give me better access to her thighs. But because her legs were so wide apart, her most sacred place was on display. I knew that I shouldn't look, but I was weak. If her panties had been bigger, so they weren't as tight, then there would have been less to see. But they were tight on her, so there was a lot to see. Her skimpy panties left little to the imagination. It was difficult, but somehow I managed to keep my hands from going straight to where they shouldn't be. And with difficulty, as I continued to massage her thighs, my hands didn't go too high up.

When, after stopping, I said, "I've finished," I felt proud of myself. I'd done the right thing, I'd behaved myself. I was a saint rather than a sinner.

"I enjoyed that, please can I have a few more minutes."

I could do that, and it wouldn't be a problem. I'd been tempted, but I'd been able to overcome it.

"And I'd like your hands to go even higher."

Now that was a problem, but one that I was sure that I could overcome. It would mean that I would be going close to her panties, but I was strong enough to resist any temptation. However, when my hands were back on her, all the resistance that I had started to crumble.

As my hands slowly went upwards, an inch at a time, I wasn't massaging her thighs, I was caressing them. It was as if I had no control over them. Any second now she would ask me to stop, but would I be able to?

It was low, not even as loud as a whisper, but I heard it as clearly as if she'd shouted it out. It was a moan, and it told me everything. She was as excited as I was, and so she didn't want me to stop. She wanted my fingers on her pussy!

When I got to the edge of her panties I stopped. The rational part of my brain was urging me to reconsider. Everything it was telling me was true. Yes, I shouldn't do it, and if I did, then there would be no going back from it. I should stop now before it was too late. However, the lure of her pussy was too strong to ignore.

The first touch, with just a single finger, was tentative. Lightly done with very little pressure. But both our reactions to it showed how significant it was. It sent a surge of excitement through my body, and she jerked as if she'd been electrocuted. The next touch was firmer, and it made her gasp.

I was now feeling every part of her covered pussy, and she was moaning almost continuously. Then, to make it even better for both of us, she suddenly got onto all fours. This wasn't a position for a massage, it was a sexual position. It was for fingering or for fucking. Because her bottom was high up, and her panties were stretched tight, all the contours of her pussy were clearly visible. Seeing that took my excitement up a level.

It was time to get her panties off.

When, with both hands, I started to pull them down, I was expecting her to close her legs so that it would make it easier for me to remove them. But she didn't, instead she startled me by shouting out a single word.

It was, "No!"

And because of how she'd said it, I knew that she wasn't going to change her mind. I wanted my fingers deep up her, and then I wanted to fuck her hard. But disappointingly, I was going to have to settle for less. I did try to get my fingers into her panties, but she stopped me by closing her legs. When she opened them again I knew that she wanted me to continue, but only on the outside.

With my cock throbbing in my trousers, I rubbed her clit. It had been easy to find, and there was no doubt that I was in the right place because of the noises she was making. Each touch of it seemed to excite her even more than the previous one, and when her breathing became laboured, I knew that she was close to reaching it.

Emma always struggles to break through, and I have to work hard to make her come. Her Mother was different, rubbing her precious jewel a little harder, and slightly quicker, did the trick.

"Fuck, I'm in it."

As soon as it started she went rigid, then she flopped onto the bed. She then didn't move, but she made a lot of strange noises until it was over.

When she got off the bed I was trying to work out what was going to happen next. Ideally, I'd get a blow job, but I'd settle for a happy ending. However, when she said, "I'm late for an appointment," I knew that all I was going to get was blue balls.

After quickly putting her skirt on, she was leaving. I went with her to the door. When we got there I opened it for her. She then surprised me by giving me a big hug. While we embraced, with her mouth close to my ear, she whispered, "That was wonderful, but don't tell anybody."

Of course, I didn't, and I never would. It was our little secret, one that I would take to my grave. However, later on, I found out that my Mother-in-law was a blabbermouth!

-

When I opened the door I was pleased to see that it was my Mother, but I could tell that she wasn't pleased to see me. I didn't know why that was, but I knew that I wouldn't have to wait long before she told me what I'd done wrong. Even before she'd got her coat off she was admonishing me. "Why did you do it?" Then she said more. "I've done everything for you."

She had, and I was grateful. But I still didn't know why she was angry with me.

"You never offer to massage me."

So that was it. My Mother-in-law must have told her what had happened three days ago. Not what it had ended up becoming, just that I'd massaged her legs. She should have kept her mouth shut.

"That stuck up bitch took great delight in telling me about it. I wanted to punch her on the nose. That would have wiped the smile from her ugly face."

She was overreacting, but I wasn't stupid enough to tell her that, because that wouldn't calm her down, it would just make her even angrier.

"And she kept going on and on about how good you were, and how much she had enjoyed it. Then she asked me if you had ever given me a massage. When I said no, she laughed. It was so embarrassing."

Then, while looking at me as if I was a naughty child, she said, "Say something."

After all that, there was only one thing I could say, it was, "Would you like me to give you a massage?"

She was now lying on my bed, facing upwards, in just her underwear. I was only going to do her legs, but she had insisted on it being more than that. She didn't say why that was, but she didn't need to. I knew that it was so that she could boast to my Mother-in-law that she'd had a more extensive massage.

My Mother is also fifty years old, and like my 'Other Mother', she has aged well. She's a slender woman, petite is a good word to describe her. She has curves, but they are more subtle than my Mother-in-law's. Her breasts are small, but they are still a nice handful. As well as the difference in appearance, I am now able to see the difference in their underwear. My Mother's panties are not small, they are loose fitting. They are panties that are more appropriate for her age. Her matching bra is also modest, it completely covers her breasts.

I started on her legs, soft at first, but when she asked for it to be harder, I put more effort into it. With my Mother-in-law, seeing her in those skimpy panties had got me excited. The underwear that was on display today wasn't having any effect on me. This was never going to be anything other than a massage!

After doing her calves I started massaging her shoulders. Next were her arms.

"This is nice, but it isn't what I was expecting."

"What do you mean?"

"She said that it had been sensual."

On hearing that I think my heart skipped a few beats, and then somehow I managed to compose myself. She'd told me not to tell anybody, but she had happily told my Mother something that she shouldn't have.

"She's exaggerating. I did mix it up, sometimes it was soft and gentle rather than just hard, but I wouldn't call it sensual."

"I believed her, so tell me EXACTLY what you did."

I told her as much as I could, that I hadn't just done her calves, I'd also done her thighs. And after hearing it, she asked me to tell her more about it. I reluctantly admitted that I'd gone up as high as the edge of her panties.

After chuckling, she said, "That must be the most exciting thing that has happened to her since Jim left her two years ago."

That should have been the end of it, but it wasn't.

"I want the same," and then she quickly added, "No, I want more than her."

As I returned to her legs, but this time on her thighs, I wondered what 'more than' meant.

Her legs were only slightly open, but I was happy for them to stay like that. I wanted this to be over as soon as possible.

"Tell me, was she like this, or did she open her legs for you?"

Without thinking, I said that she'd opened them, and that was a mistake, because she did the same thing. Her legs were now as wide open as my Mother-in-law's had been. I'd been OK with her panties when they were loose, but now they were tighter on her. What I was seeing was more sexual, and to make it even more so, she suddenly raised her knees high up. That's when the blood started to flow into my cock. Inwardly I groaned, I could do without being tempted again.

I knew that she wouldn't be satisfied until I'd gone up to the edge of her panties, but that didn't mean that I had to get any sexual pleasure from doing it. And it was like that, but unfortunately, not for long. Even when I was only halfway up her thigh, I was excited. When I was only a few inches away from her panties it stopped being a massage. My firm touch became gentle. It was now sensual, and she noticed it.

"This is what I want."

Getting your Mother-in-law excited might be excusable, but exciting your Mother is definitely breaking all the rules. However, I didn't care. My hands were slowly moving towards a pussy, one that wanted to be fingered, and that was all that mattered.

When I got to her panties, there were butterflies in my stomach, and my heart was thumping in my chest. I was so eager to get to her pussy that I didn't stop to think about the consequences, I just went for it. This time I was never going to be satisfied with the panties staying on. As soon as my hands were pulling them down, she was closing her legs and lifting her bottom up. I had them off in a flash.

When she opened her legs again, my head was quickly between them. My eagerness to do it was that of someone who's never gone down on a woman before. My mouth and tongue was all over her pussy, greedily enjoying every part of it. It wasn't subtle, but it was what I needed, and it was what she needed as well, because both her hands were on my head, pushing it down.

"Lick my clit."

I did, and it made her gasp.

"Do it again and don't stop."

I had no intention of stopping until she comes.

"If you want to you can finger my cunt," and then she quickly added, "But keep your tongue on my clit."

I was a good boy, I always obey my Mother, so with my tongue still where she wanted it to be, I pushed two fingers deep into her hot wet pussy. It almost made her come, and then I started fucking her with them. When she shouted out, "Yes," it was confirmation that I was doing a good job.

She was now getting there, and it wasn't going to take much more of this to make her climax. Then I had a sudden thought, one that I liked a lot, but it was one that my cock liked even more.

I was going to fuck her!