(This is a true story. My mother-in-law died a few years ago. We have many fond memories of our times with her. We miss her greatly.)
*
My mother-in-law, Margaret, officially, but Marge or Margie to most people, and I always got along fairly well. I treated her decent and liked her cooking and her daughter was happy with me and I guess that was what she cared most about.
She had a small apartment on the first floor of the same building occupied by the family business. There were two bedrooms and a smaller apartment on the second floor and a quite large loft area on the third floor. When my wife, Glynda, and I were there we stayed in the small apartment. Our two daughters would use the separate bedrooms if they came down.
My wife's dad had died a couple of years before and I don't think many people missed him much. He didn't treat anybody very well, least of all his wife, son, and two daughters, and nobody's cooking was as good as his, and although he often said he could cook something better, he never volunteered to do it.
We were down at "Mom's" for vacation. There wasn't much to do in the little fishing and logging town, but it was close to the beaches and the mountains. Glynda and I would go out on the beach late in the afternoon and watch the sun go down and then build a little fire and fuck for a couple hours on a big blanket and then go home and soak in the steam bath for a couple of hours and fuck some more. Or we would go for a hike up in the mountains in the morning and then take a nap and fuck in some grassy meadow for most of the afternoon. You can tell there was one thing uppermost in our minds.
The steam bath was actually a Finnish style sauna. A very hot, very dry heat, very little steam at all. Glynda's dad had built it in the back of the factory and it had become popular with nearly everyone. In fact my oldest daughter was conceived in it, near as we could figure.
Glynda and her mom were only about 20 years apart in age and were mistaken for sisters quite often. Their size and build were very similar except that Margie was a little bustier and a little hippier with a few more wrinkles. And while Glynda frosted her hair because it was fashionable, Marge did it to hide some gray and look younger. It was difficult to tell them apart without looking really close. And therein lies the tale.
I had been over at the neighborhood tavern for a few hours that afternoon, drinking beer and visiting with a few guys that I knew from when we had lived there years ago. It was dinner time, and I was a little tipsy, and also horny from watching the barmaids running around in their short skirts and low-cut blouses for several hours. I walked into the downstairs apartment to see what the prospects for dinner were. There were a couple of pots gently steaming on the stove and my wife was standing at the sink fixing some lettuce and veggies for salad. I walked up behind her, put my left arm around her and squeezed her tit, and reached down in front of her with my right hand and cupped her mons and pussy and massaged it a little. She jumped a little and said, "Ooohh!"
I nuzzled and nibbled the side of her neck and said, "What's for dinner, besides you?"
She was breathing a little hard and leaning against me like she was having trouble standing up. "Ohh ... Unnn ... I ... I ... think th.. th.. that Glllyyyndaaaa .... is . up .. stairs ..," she gasped.
Well, I started noticing things then. Her breast was a little bit larger and softer than Glynda's and her tummy wasn't quite as flat, and her mons felt a little higher, and then I opened my eyes and noticed what was looped over the ear I had just begun to lick and nibble on. Metal glass frames! Oops! Gramma wore glasses with metal frames and Glynda wore plastic! Mea culpa!
I unwound my arms from around her and helped her stand up straight. As she leaned against the sink counter I said, "Oh! I'm sorry. I thought you were Glynda."
"That's .... all ... right," she said, gasping out one word to the breath.
"See you at dinner!" I said as I made my exit, stage left.
I went upstairs and found my wife in an easy chair in the sitting room of the little apartment, reading the very skinny local paper.
"How was your visit with your buddies?" she asked. "Are the barmaids over there just as sexy as ever?"
I gave her a brief sketch of the afternoon at the local watering hole and then related what had transpired with her mother in the kitchen.
"My god, Honey, you probably came close to giving Mom a heart attack! I'm pretty sure she hasn't had any sex but her hand since Dad got sick before he died. And maybe not for a while before then."
"Yeah," I agreed, "She didn't really object to my attention either. In fact she sounded a little disappointed when I left and came upstairs."
"Well," said Glynda, "You have given me an adequate amount of screwing the last couple of days. You want to try fucking Mom tonight?"
Many guys would have fallen over if their wife said anything like that, but it wasn't totally unexpected. We aren't major league swingers or swappers and we don't have what I would call an open marriage. We are 99% or more satisfied with our sex lives and seldom actively pursue other sexual partners. However, we realize that there are those times and circumstances when an attraction develops that just can't be ignored. We have an agreement that we discuss each event before consummation and we don't have any liaisons with other people in our own home, unless it is by prior arrangement and agreement. We do have an escape clause though. That is if there are hands on organs and the clothes are half off, do it, and we will discuss it later!
So, I wasn't too surprised at what my wife said. "My, how you talk, young lady!" I chuckled. "I didn't realize I had fucked you to a frazzle."
"I said an adequate amount, not a sufficient amount. And I was thinking about a quickie before dinner. But, since there may be some extramarital hanky panky tonight you can just eat my pussy for an appetizer. If you get Mom for dessert you may need all your spunk and energy for her!"
With that, Glynda raised her hips and slipped off her slacks and panties, slumped down in the chair and threw her legs over the arms of it. "Come and get it, big boy," she said, reaching down and spreading her cunt lips.
