Muriel's Quest

Simon carried his toolbox down the drive of his in law's house back to his van. He put the tools in the back, then drove away. He was trying to make sense of what just happened.

Muriel was mum, his mother in law. She wasn't the stereotypical mother in law, where mice threw themselves onto the traps when she came to visit. She was nice, always had been. After the wedding, she insisted he called her mum and then he became son to her.

He couldn't remember the last time he felt as horny as he did at that moment. Who started it? Him? Her? She was eighty for God's sake. He replayed the key moments.

She answered the door looking downright sexy. Her grey hair was let down, brushed out and shining. She usually had it tied up in a bun, but he'd seen her with it down before.

She normally wore a drab, tatty, grey dressing gown. It wasn't unusual for her to still be wearing that mid-morning, especially at the weekend. She wore a very sensual white silk gown.

He was the one that stared at her breasts. Because he could see the bump of her nipples through that gown.

He was the one that got all tongue-tied when he saw her form outlined. However, she moved at the last second, so their kiss would be on her lips instead of her cheek. Then, when it was clumsily misplaced, she lined up for a fresh attempt on her lips. But it was he that was looking at the way her bum jiggled as he walked behind her, getting the beginnings of an erection in the process.

He was the one looking at her bum as she made the coffee, she caught him looking. He accidentally felt her breasts as he lifted her onto the stool, causing his cock to harden further. Her gown slid from her legs almost exposing her knickers, but he stared again, instead of averting his eyes. And he stared at her legs again when she demonstrated how she couldn't help it. It was he who encouraged her to flaunt herself.

Up to that point, all she had done was let him give her a peck on the lips, instead of her cheek. Yes, her gown and underwear were very sexy, so what? She can make herself look good if she wants, the same goes for her hair.

However, she was the one who then flashed her knickers and tits. He protested, but only because he was already highly aroused and didn't want to go too far. He was the one who put his hands higher to deliberately feel more of her breasts as he helped her off the stool. He was the one that let his hands slide over her tits as she stood on the floor.

But after that? She held his hands against her breasts, making encouraging sounds as he actively fondled her tits. She later put his hands under her gown and invited him to feel her up again. She groped him, did he groan as she did that? He couldn't remember. What he did know was that if she'd carried on doing that he would have spurted in his jeans.

She was the one that invited him round again, telling him which days would be best. Telling him she would let him do anything! She then told him pretty much what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. She'd said words to that effect quite a few times that morning.

He knew, deep down, he really wanted to fuck her. He was also convinced she really wanted to let him fuck her.

Could he? Would he? This had come out of nowhere. Yes, his marriage was in the doldrums sexually, but otherwise, it was really good. From what Muriel had said she was in the same boat, so they could, discreetly, help each other.

What he'd seen of her body took him by surprise. He thought the body of an eighty-year-old would be wrinkled, sagging and dropping off their bones. Her's wasn't, not from what he briefly saw. There was some well-made corsetry involved, but the skin of her chest and her breasts was smooth. As was that of her thighs. Her knickers were very flimsy silk, so what he could see of her bum was her natural bum and it looked fine to him.

The skin of her face, hands and lower arms was wrinkled, but that seemed to be all. She moved well, very well, in fact, she wasn't crooked and twisted. If she had wrinkles elsewhere, he didn't really think he'd be put off. That made him think of her pussy. That was an unknown, from the brief glimpse he had of her knickers there was plumpness there. As he arrived back home he was imagining putting his hand inside her knickers. He was rock hard.

As he entered the house Ruth called, "Everything OK, with their boiler? Will it last them another year?"

"Yes, it's all done and good. I need the loo, sorry."

He dashed upstairs and rummaged in the laundry basket, looking for a pair of Ruth's knickers, the same or similar to Muriel's. He found a pair and released his hard, veiny cock. As always, Ruth's knickers were nicely stained. He put them to his nose and inhaled. He imagined the pungent smell was Muriel's pungency. He folded them in his left hand so the stained gusset was uppermost.

He stroked his cock, his fingers just behind his glans, after only five or six strokes he rested his cock on the gusset. The gusset that had what he was pretending was Muriel's stains. One, two, three, four ropes of cum were laid across it. The others were less forceful, but when he finished there was twice the amount as usual. He carefully laid the offering on top of the laundry pile for Ruth to find.

He did this whenever he masturbated at home. Nothing had been said between them regarding this ritual. The first time he did it was to let her know that he was finding release and to let her know in what way. That first time he'd saved up his spunk for a few days, waiting for wash day.

That day he'd told Ruth he was starting work later than usual as he had some paperwork to do. While she was finishing her breakfast he went upstairs and found the ideal pair. They were black lacy ones with a black gusset. She'd said before breakfast she had a letter to post, then she would put the first wash on when she got back.

The post box was only around the corner. As she left the house he watched her leave. He was already hard and wanking. The thought of what he was going to do was such a turn on. He was having to edge himself, he wanted his cum to be as fresh as possible when she saw it.

Ruth arrived back. He released his thick, creamy load into the gusset. He managed to catch it all. He laid them out over the other clothes, neatly, so it was obvious it was done on purpose. His thick puddle of cum was in the centre for her to see.

He went into the spare room that served as his office. Ruth came upstairs with the wash basket, to sort the clothes for the first wash. He silently came out to watch her reaction through the slightly open door. He was quite nervous, he didn't know what to expect. He had his explanation ready if the shit did hit the fan.

Ruth took the lid off the basket, "What?" she thought to herself.

She knew she had just chucked those panties in the basket, now they were neatly laid out with..., what was that in the gusset? She picked them up, looking closely at the deposit he'd left in them.

She held them in the palm of her hand. She slowly stirred the puddle with the index finger of her other hand. She then held the gusset to her nose and smelt it, which confirmed it, "He's wanked himself off and come in my knickers!"

She looked thoughtful for a few seconds, then she smiled. She dropped them in the wash basket and proceeded to sort out the rest of the clothes. Simon slipped back into his office. Five minutes later she came into his office, turned his head to face her and kissed him full on the mouth then left the office without saying a word.

"What was that for?" he called after her.

"Just because." was her answer, that wasn't really an answer, but it meant all it needed to mean to Simon.

He wondered if it turned her on? He decided the answer to that was no, but it reassured her. That was quite a few years ago, many of those much-appreciated tributes left for her during that time.

After Simon left Muriel she went to her bedroom to get dressed. She removed her gown and put it away. The wardrobe door was mirrored. She moved a few paces back, faced the mirror and looked at her reflection.

"Head up, shoulders back," she said to herself.

She tried, but her head was already up. Her shoulders were already back.

"Mrs Beauchamp, you'd be proud of me." she thought, thinking back to her time in finishing school.

She tensed her quads, "Hmm, nothing like they were." she thought.

She turned sideways, the slight droop to her buttocks saddened her. She tried to tense them, there was a bit of movement, but not much, it made her giggle.

"Oh, stop it!" she thought, "You're eighty, not many of your friends look this good."

She removed the basque, she saw her breasts drop as they lost the uplift it provided. She also remembered that in changing rooms she had seen women in their forties with the same amount of droop, if not more. So even on that score, she couldn't really complain.

Those changing rooms were at the local swimming pool. She had gone there faithfully every morning until she was seventy-five. She used to swim a mile then get out. When she was younger she could do it in under half an hour. When it started to take more than an hour she stopped going. It was swimming that had kept her body in reasonable shape.

"Perhaps I should go back and instead of focusing on the distance just do half an hour or until I get tired?" she thought.

She resolved to ask her friend Jean. She was almost the same age and often used to go with Muriel.

Muriel cupped one of her breasts, she ran her thumb over the nipple, just as Simon had done. Doing that had made his cock erect.

She knew he wanted her, he desired her. She pinched her areola between finger and thumb, causing the nipple to stick out prominently.

She imagined Simon sucking her tit, "Oh yes son, suck it for me."

Her other hand she slipped into her knickers. Down through her trimmed pubic hair, seeking her clitoris.

She was imagining that it was Simon doing it, "Yes you dear boy, finger me, make me cum, make mum come."

She lay back on the bed, fingering herself, imagining a make-out session with Simon. He was suckling her, fingering her. She was stroking his hard cock. That was as far as she imagined because her orgasm overwhelmed her.

"My goodness!" she thought, "Oh, I hope he really does want me, I hope he comes round soon."

Simon was watching the football on TV, Ruth was pottering around in the garden planting some bulbs Muriel let her have. His mind wasn't on the game, it was on his mother in law. He was replaying the feel of her breast, her soft lips kissing him as he brushed his thumbs over her bare nipples. She was a good kisser. His cock was growing.

"Why now though," he thought, "all these years a normal relationship and then this morning happened. Why now?"

Of course, he wasn't to know about David and Viv, how they'd awakened a latent desire in her. So then he thought, "What if it's her age? What if it's some mental condition? I would be an abuser and if she came to her senses and told people what I'd done? Shit! That doesn't bear thinking about."

Then he realised that he'd actually felt her up, skin on skin, what if she complained about that?

He was now starting to spiral, the erection he was getting was gone, "I need to talk to her, get this straightened out."

He resolved to do that, on one of the days she'd given him, the first chance he got. He had a very uneasy feeling in his gut. A sense of foreboding, he wished he'd kept his hands to himself.

Ruth was now in the kitchen, washing soil off her hands. She came into the lounge with a beer for him, "What's the score?"

"Thanks. To be honest, I've no idea, must've dozed off."

"Not like you, especially when Forest are playing."

"I know, don't tell Baz or Mick, I'd never live it down!"

"Oh, I forgot, Liz called while you were out. She asked if I could help her tomorrow morning with her evening dress. She's got a ball to go to tomorrow night and it needs taking in a bit."

"Yeah, no problem. I'll go fishing."

Meanwhile, Muriel was dressed for gardening, she'd put her hair back into her customary bun. She went out to plant the bulbs she'd bought. Her thoughts were on Simon. She knew she'd aroused him. He had already overstepped the bounds of propriety. There was a good chance he would follow up on her invitation.

She had couched that invitation in no uncertain terms. She told him he could come round and do to, or with her whatever he wanted. Even that thought made her feel weak and she felt her pussy respond.

If the next time he called it was with Ruth, she resolved to behave as if nothing had happened. If he was on his own it would be as a result of the invitation. Normally he would never call on his own. Not unless something had first been arranged.

If he was on his own he would have to take the lead. She wanted him to be masterful, take control of her. Even if that meant that nothing further took place between them. In that case, cue her son, Ruben.

The following morning, Simon's fishing tackle was loaded in his van. He was going to talk to Muriel and establish whether she knew what she was doing or not. He'd play it by ear. He drove past his in law's at about 9:00, Sam's car was still parked on the drive. He drove further up the road and parked to wait until he left for his Sunday golf.

Sam was finishing his breakfast coffee. Muriel sat opposite him in that lovely gown she'd bought. She was naked underneath it. They both slept naked now.

"Time I was gone," he said draining his cup and putting his breakfast things in the sink for Muriel to wash.

He kissed her, a quick peck and set off for his usual Sunday morning round of golf with Matt and Pete.

Muriel finished her coffee and put her things in the sink and turned on the tap to wash them. The sink was filled with hot water when there was a knock at the door.

"Could it be him already?" she thought as she turned off the tap.

As she approached the door the outline of a man that could be him could be seen through the faceted glass. She was excited as she opened the door. It was him! Her heart skipped a beat.

"Hello son, come in."

"Hello mum." he stepped inside, she closed the door, held his hand and took him a few paces into the hall. She put her face towards his, her lips parted and he gave her a quick peck.

Her excited mood evaporated, that wasn't what she was expecting. He'd come on his own, accepting her invitation, but he seemed a little cool.

"Coffee?" she asked.

"Yes please." he followed her into the kitchen. Again watching the movement of her arse, he just couldn't help it.

She filled the kettle, he could see the outline of her breasts, he couldn't see the bumps of her nipples. Perhaps she wasn't wearing the corset thing? Even so, he could see the outline of her boobs, they would fill his hand. His cock was thickening.

"So what brings you over? What I said to you yesterday?"

"Yes, but probably not in the way you think. We need to talk."

"She doesn't look or sound gaga." he thought.

Her heart sank, she thought, "He's getting cold feet."

She made the coffee and carried the cups into the lounge. She didn't want to be lifted onto the stool again.

"This way," she said.

She put one cup, his, on the coffee table, opposite the middle seat of the sofa. She sat in an armchair. She had indicated where he should sit.

Simon sat down and took a sip of his coffee. Muriel took a sip of hers and sat with her cup and her hands in her lap. She gave Simon her unreadable poker face, waiting for him to start the conversation. Her gown was behaving itself, thanks to the constraining armchair.

Simon expected her to talk first, he was much mistaken. Muriel held her poker face. She was becoming disappointed in him, he wasn't being masterful. The silence had gone on for far too long, so she broke it.

"Look, you said you wanted to talk, so... talk."

"I said WE, needed to talk," he said, a little testily.

She felt really annoyed at that and replied coolly, "I didn't feel the need to have a deep, meaningful conversation as soon as you arrived. You shouldn't project your need on me. Since it's you that feels the need to talk, then please, Simon, take a deep breath and spit it out. Otherwise, I'm going to finish washing the pots while you collect your thoughts."

"Fuck me!" he thought, "She's not losing her marbles, she knows exactly what she's doing and has put me right in my place."

"Er..., Yeah mum, I feel a prat. I think yesterday afternoon, I was overthinking what we did yesterday morning. Because there had never been anything like that between us before. I wondered because it was out of the blue if you'd had some sort of funny turn. That I was actually taking advantage of you."

Muriel tried to hold her poker face. But then her mouth started twitching and then she collapsed into laughter. If anything she was taking advantage of him!

She put her cup down and went and sat in his lap. His left arm went around her waist, he could feel no corset, just the skin of her slim waist. Her bum felt warm and soft in his lap, his other hand rested mid-thigh on her right leg. She'd put her right arm around his shoulders.

"Son, I'm completely sane, I have my wits about me. I know what I'm doing and I know what I want.

I want us to help each other. I want you to take me, any way you want, whenever you want. You have to take control, tell me what you want me to do.

I want this to go on for as long as possible. Your sex life with Ruth will probably get back on an even track in a while, some months or a few years. I'll then understand if you want to stop. But I hope you won't, that we can still find a way."

"OK, yes, I understand." he paused for a few seconds, "But what is this change in you, why now?"

"I had an experience last Sunday, a threesome, with a really nice couple. I'm not going to explain how or why I accepted their invitation, but I did. Afterwards, I didn't regret it. When I got home I just wanted to turn around, go back to their place and do it all over again."

"Wow! Really?"

"I had never experienced sexual pleasure like that before, never. I want to feel a really big, thick cock, fucking me as he did. Filling me up."

(He felt a slight squirm of her bum on his lap.)

"Sadly I no longer can with Sam. If he still could, that would satisfy me, but he can't anymore. Of all the men I know, I chose you."

She stared into his eyes, her lips slightly open. His arm that was around her waist moved up to her left shoulder. They kissed, their lips pressed softly together. His hand that was on her thigh now cupped her left breast, over the top of her gown.

To him it felt so sensual through the silk, to her it felt so warm, comforting and exciting, "Untie my belt, put your hand inside my gown." she breathed. That was her last instruction for that morning, it was over to him now.

They kissed again, she felt the tip of his tongue on her lip, his hand left her breast, his fingers working the knot of her belt free. She touched his tongue with hers, it felt so sensual. His lips were warm and soft.

He had undone the knot. He broke the kiss to look down at her waist. He let the left side of the belt fall to the floor. On the right side, he moved it to the right of her thigh, bringing that side of the gown with it.

This exposed her right leg to his gaze, her smooth white thigh. The left-hand side of the gown covered most of her body. He could still see the skin of her hip, the smooth white skin of her stomach. He could see some of her grey pubes peeking out from under the gown.

His cock was rigid in his jeans, she could feel it poking under her. She was so excited. He lifted the other side of the gown and let it glide to the floor, totally exposing the lower half of her body to his gaze. He could see all of her mound with its covering of neat, curly, grey pubic hair. Her legs were together, he could see the top of her slit before it disappeared between her thighs.