My Stepmother and my Mother-in-law
A lucky man, Michael not only lived with, but also, slept with his stepmother and his mother-in-law in his bed.
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Author's Note:
This is a true story written for 30-year-old, Michael, about his sexy stepmother, Christine, and his MILF of a mother-in-law, Mary.
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Hard times all around, no one has any money. It doesn't matter if people have a job or two jobs, with rents, food prices, gas prices, and cost of living so high, a real luxury today, few can afford their own apartment. Rather than living with a stranger, my 44-year-old stepmother, Christine, after leaving my father, surprised me by asking if she could move in with my wife and I.
Giving her a tour of my condo when I first moved in, she knew that I had plenty of room, room enough to spare. I had the entire, third floor all to myself with my own private elevator. I had enough room to fit two or three families. In the way that it was after World War II with not enough affordable housing to go around, instead of finding housing of their own, relatives and friends were forced to live together as informal, extended families.
I've known my stepmother for 20-years, she helped raise me. Indebted to her, not wanting her to be homeless, thrilled to give her shelter, how could I say no to her wanting to move in with me? Especially after my father kicked her out when he found a younger and more beautiful blonde with bigger, albeit fake tits to take her place? She was the closest woman that I had to a real mother and I loved her as if she was my birth mother.
Shortly after my stepmother moved in with us, my 26-year-old, bitch of a wife, Linda, moved out. She left me for her personal trainer, the whore. To be honest, no big loss, I was glad that she left me. Always partying late night with her friends, she was a spoiled, selfish bitch who didn't cook or clean and stopped giving me sex, no doubt, because she was having sex with her personal trainer, the whore.
In hindsight, I never should have married her. To be honest, I don't know why I married her. After living together for several years, I thought that I should marry her. I thought that I loved her. Only, she wanted children and I didn't. No doubt, if we had children, I'd be watching the children while she stayed out late at night and partying with her friends.
To be honest, in hindsight, instead of being sexually attracted to my wife, oddly enough, I was more sexually attracted to my stepmother. Now with her living with me, as my ulterior motive for her to stay, I was hoping to eventually start a sexual relationship with her. Hopeful in my sexual solicitation of her, I had nothing to lose. Either she'd say yes or she'd say no. Never thinking that it would ever happen, nevertheless, if she had sex with my father, with me a younger and better-looking version of him, maybe she'd have sex with me, too.
Unable to help how I felt about her, I loved her but not in the way that a stepson should love his stepmother. I loved her in the way that a man loved a woman. Every night, I dreamt of seeing her naked and having forbidden sex with her beautiful body. Every morning, when in the shower, I stealthily masturbated over imagining her naked and having sex with her. There wasn't a day that I didn't sexually lust over my stepmother.
A sucker for young, beautiful blondes with big tits, my father knew how to pick them. With him starting another sexual relationship with a younger blonde, a stripper named Tiffany with even bigger tits than my stepmother, Christine, he was old enough to be her father. Yet, shame on my father, not envying him, I couldn't imagine being any happier than I was now living with my stepmother. Why he would allow a woman who was so beautiful and loving for a whore of a stripper is beyond me. Yet, glad that she was available, hopefully, I'd continue with he left off.
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Then, a few months later, when my 48-year-old, mother-in-law, Mary, lost her apartment after divorcing her husband, and with her looking for a place to live, surprising me, she asked if she could move in with me, too. Even after her daughter left me, we stayed friends. To be honest, I wished I had married mother instead of daughter. In the way that I loved my stepmother, I loved my mother-in-law, too.
Getting along well with my mother-in-law, I welcomed her to move in with me and my stepmother, too. Fortunately, in keeping the peace, with my stepmother having developed a friendship with my mother-in-law, they were best of friends, too. Now, living with two, older women, I'd have three incomes sharing the rent and the monthly expenses. My sexual fantasy come true, I hoped to have sex with one of them or both of them.
With me living in a 3,300 square foot loft, but with only one bathroom, I had plenty of room. As long as she brought her own furniture, and had help lugging her furniture up three flights of stairs, I had no problem with her moving in. Thank God I had an elevator but some of her furniture was too big for the elevator and had to be carried up the stairs.
To be honest, perhaps because I never knew my birth mother, sexually attracted to older women, I had a thing for not only my stepmother but also for my mother-in-law, too. Sexually attracted to both my stepmother and to my mother-in-law, I was thrilled that they both agreed to live with me. A carbon copy of my wife Linda, her mother Mary was an older version of her daughter. A redhead with green eyes, tall and shapely with huge, double D cup breasts, I was puzzled why her husband would divorce such a beautiful woman.
A clean freak, my stepmother did all of the cleaning, the dusting, the vacuuming, and all of the laundry. With my mother-in-law a good cook, she did all the cooking and baking. With me having the only car, I ran all of the errands and did all of the food shopping. With each of us having our jobs to do, we got along as if we were family.
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After my wife left me and after my stepmother and mother-in-law moved in, I bought a comfortable split, California king, adjustable bed. The bed had supportive pillows and warm bedding with plenty of room for the three of us. Having an ulterior motive in mind, I hoped that once they saw my new bed and tested it, that they'd both take the hint and sleep in my bed with me. Only, realistically, nothing more than a sexual fantasy, I didn't think my stepmother and/or my mother-in-law sleeping in my bed with me would happen.
Strange but true, with the both of them having saggy mattresses, unsupportive pillows, and not very warm bedding, once they tried out my new, adjustable bed, I didn't have to ask them to sleep in my bed with me. Shocking me as much as the sexually excited me, they innocently asked if they could sleep in my bed with me. How could I say no to them sleeping in my bed with me when that was what I hoped they'd ask when I bought such a big and comfortable bed?
"Your bed is wonderful," said my stepmother. She jumped in the middle of my bed. "It's so comfortable," she said rolling around on it. With her housecoat climbing to her waist, she inadvertently flashed me her bright, white panties beneath her housecoat. "I could never afford such a luxurious bed."