Seasons Of Submission Pt 02

Seasons of Submission

Part Two of Four - Summer 2001 - A visit from my mother-in-law

You only had to take one look at Rachel's mother to realise where my wife's blonde hair, green eyes and shapely figure came from.  Susan had always been a busy professional mother; she was a legal executive with a firm that specialised in criminal law.  Although mother and daughter looked like two peas from the same pod, they were very different psychologically.  My wife was kind-hearted and a touch sentimental; her mother was hard-nosed, assertive and had a forceful personality.

It was easy to understand why my wife felt, that throughout her childhood and into adulthood, she'd had little love and emotional support from her mother.  I always avoided conflict with her, she was not someone that you would want to take on.  They saw each other reasonably often but never seemed completely at ease in each other's company.  It was as though they were each holding something back.

One bright summer's day at the end of June, I decided to work from home.  It was something I did very occasionally when I needed uninterrupted time to catch up with paperwork.  It was a pleasure not to have to rush to get ready for work and to be able to watch my wife getting dressed.  Rachel getting dressed was almost as erotic as Rachel getting undressed.

"Have you remembered that my mother's going to drop in this afternoon to borrow my sewing machine?"

"Oh, yeah, no problem."

"You'd forgotten hadn't you?"

"No, of course not."

There was no way I could have forgotten; the prospect had already fed my fantasies.

"I've told her not to distract you from your work."

"No worries, I can at least carry it to the car for her."

"Yes, she'll appreciate that."

"Will you be home at the usual time this evening?"

"Yes, I imagine so."

"Good, but remember, if you're late I'll have to punish you."

"Yes, Sir."

"Come here; let me check that you're wearing stockings."

I knew she was, I'd watched her put them on but I loved the feel of suspender clips through a skirt.

I made a mental note to tidy up before her mother arrived, we'd had sex play the previous night, I'd made her wear a nurse's uniform and I'd pulled her knickers down and spanked her with the paddle; lying across my knee, she'd orgasmed within seconds of feeling my fingers inside her sopping wet vagina.

At about eleven, I'd shifted a lot of paperwork and was ready for a well-earned cup of tea; my thoughts drifted to my sexy mother-in-law; I'd never really been alone with her before, and the thought of it gave me a thrill.  She'd never given me any reason to think that I had a chance with her; quite the opposite, she was always a little cool and detached around me and her daughter.  My wife had always said that she'd been much closer to her father.

Sadly, Ted had died of a sudden heart attack not long after I married Rachel; her mother had long since ceased to be the grieving widow; she always seemed to have several suitors eating out of her hand. The way she dressed and comported herself always suggested that she was sexually very active.  The sound of the doorbell brought my rivière to an end; I thought it might be the postman with a parcel, but I was wrong, it was my mother-in-law.

"Ah! Susan, I... er... I thought you were coming this afternoon."

"Yes, sorry, change of plan, I'm meeting a friend this afternoon. I hope you don't mind me arriving early; Rachel said you'd be in all day; she told me not to disturb you though," she said with a half smile.

She looked great, at 55 years of age she was very attractive, well toned with grey blonde bobbed hair and always well dressed. My mother-in-law frequently turned me on and today was no exception; she wore a sleeveless, knee-length lilac shift dress, beautifully fitted around her curvaceous body; her three-inch heels showed off her shapely legs to good effect. I wanted some time to admire her, to drink her in, because I knew the moment that she left, I'd be rushing upstairs to masturbate.

"Oh, don't worry about that, would you like a cup of tea?"

"Oh, I'd love one, as long as you're sure it's not too much trouble."

"No trouble at all; I was about to make one for myself."

"So how're things with you, are you busy?"

"Yes, that's why I'm working from home today, I'm trying to get my admin done; it's easier here than in the office where I get constant interruptions"

The kettle boiled and I filled the teapot.

"Shall we go and sit in the lounge while the tea mashes?"

She went in first; I got a couple of mugs out of a kitchen cupboard and put a drop of milk into each of them.  When I went through to join her in the lounge I felt very embarrassed; she was sitting on the settee showing an agreeable amount of leg when I noticed that she was holding the paddle; she gave me a wry smile and made sure I saw her look at my wife's pussy juice encrusted knickers that were still on the arm of a chair.

"So it looks like you've both been having fun; who's the lucky victim?  Or do you take it in turns?"

"Oh God, I'm sorry, I meant to tidy up; I didn't think you'd be here until this afternoon."

"Well, you haven't answered my question?"

My cheeks felt hot.

"I'm sorry, I didn't intend you to see that."

"You still haven't answered my question."

By now I was feeling very uncomfortable.

"I'll go and pour the tea," I said as I retreated to the kitchen; I realised that my cock was stiffening, and I hoped to God it would die down before I went back into the lounge.

By the time I'd poured the tea and arranged some biscuits on a plate, my cock was swollen but not erect. Back in the lounge, she gave me a teasing look; she still had her legs crossed but now she was dangling a high-heeled shoe from her foot in a sensual manner.  I handed her a mug of tea.

"Thanks, I'll be off when I've drunk this; I'm sure you've got lots to do without having to entertain me as well."

She was still holding the paddle, twirling it around in her hands; it was a sign that she wasn't quite finished with me yet.

"Let me put you out of your misery, I'm pretty sure that my daughter is on the receiving end of this."

"It's only sex play; I-I don't really hurt her; s-she likes it..."

I had said more than I intended.

"I imagine you like it too, being in charge I mean."

I didn't need to say anything; it was obvious that she knew what was going on between us.

"You know, she's just like her father, highly intelligent, brilliant career but content to submit to my will; more than content actually, he was quite turned on by being dominated.  Tell me, has she let you control every aspect of her life?"

"Everything but her work; that's where she's in charge and nobody says no to her; that's partly why she wants me to dominate her at home."

She took a sip of her tea, "Good, I know you'll look after her and you won't abuse your authority over her."

"No, I'd never do that."

"Have you reached the stage where she wants you to watch her being dominated by others?"

How did she know? She was having a curious effect on me; I'd dropped my guard completely.

"Yes, I watched her being taken by one of her work colleagues; I've never seen her..."

"Come so enthusiastically?"

"...Well, yes."

"Did you mind her being fucked by another man?"

"It was a woman."

"So my little girl likes the ladies, hmm, I'll bet you did more than just watch though, a virile young man like you?"

"That would be telling."

"Do tell."

"Some other time maybe."

She finished her tea and stood up to leave; the conversation we'd just had was unreal; I'd never before remotely discussed anything so sexually intimate with my mother-in-law. She knew she'd got me eating out of her hand; I saw her glance down at the bulge in my trousers, the corners of her mouth curled into a half smile.  After she'd made sure I knew what she was looking at she swayed her hips slowly out of the lounge and into the hallway."

"Can you carry the sewing machine out to the car for me?"

"Yes, of course."

"I followed her out to the car and put the machine in the boot."

"I'll bring it back next week; what day would suit you best."

"Any evening really, Rachel gets home after six most days."

"Oh, that's a shame; I can't do evenings next week," she said with a look of amused anticipation, "perhaps you could get off work early one afternoon, say three o'clock on Wednesday?"

Being a little slow on the uptake I said I was sure that Rachel would like to be there.

"I think perhaps it would be best if she wasn't."

She stood close to me as she said this; her scent filled my nostrils; it was sweet and heady.  The penny dropped.

"Y-yes, I think I can be home for three next Wednesday."

My erection still hadn't subsided; there was no chance that it would in her presence; I suddenly felt that she could read me like an open book. She must have sensed my desire to fuck her; she'd caught me ogling her several times over the years but this time it was blatant.  She looked down at my groin again.

"You know, whenever Ted got a little frisky and I was too busy, I used to send him upstairs to masturbate," she said with a sly smile.

I stood next to the driver's door as she eased into the seat in a series of sensually choreographed moves; she wasn't wearing hosiery; she made sure the hem of her dress rode up to her mid-thigh.

"I'll see you next week then."

"Yes, I'll be thinking of you in the meantime," she blew me a kiss, "Goodbye."

I watched her pull out of the driveway, gave her one last wave and then went straight upstairs and shot my load into the toilet basin.

I felt very guilty about my newfound urge to fuck my mother-in-law.  If the masterclass of sexual enticement I had just witnessed was anything to go by, her discovery of my sexual dominance over her daughter seemed to have awakened something libidinous inside her.

I sensed I wouldn't be able to resist her when she returned the following week with the sewing machine. I thought about asking my wife to get time off work so that she could be there too.  Then another thought crept into the back of my mind; the way things had progressed between us since we'd shared a bed with Sylvia, I'd begun to feel that nothing was off limits so long as we both agreed to it first. I wondered how could I gauge my wife's reaction to what I was thinking.  She'd

become wholly submissive and had often come hard to my many depraved fantasies in bed, but I expected her to draw the line at me fucking her mother.

I devised a plan to see how far I could take things.  After dinner that evening, I ordered my wife to dress up as an older woman.  She had a bobbed blonde wig that she'd bought a few weeks earlier when I wanted her dressed as a middle-aged nurse during sex play.  I told her to wear it with her grey shift dress and a pair of black high heels; she seemed surprised when I told her not to wear hosiery.

When she came downstairs dressed according to my instructions, I told her to sit with her legs crossed and to show plenty of thigh.  I don't know at what point she made the connection but, after I'd taken her upstairs to bed and fucked her, with a feverish intensity, in her shift dress, heels and wig, there was only one question on her mind.

"What was my mother wearing today?" she asked tentatively.

I found her question thrilling; my plan was working; my cock surged again at her inquisitiveness; I knew I'd be ready to fuck her again in a few minutes, she knew it too; I think she knew who I wanted her to be.

"She turned up this morning much earlier than we had planned"

"Oh!"

"Yes, and I hadn't tidied up; she spotted the paddle; your used knickers were still on the chair arm."

"Oh, God."

"She knew straight away what we'd been up to, there was no way I could pretend otherwise; she knows now that you submit to me; she even told me that she sexually dominated your father; she said you and your father were very much alike in temperament."

"I knew about their relationship; she did little to conceal it from me. I went into their bedroom once to borrow some moisturiser; they'd left bondage rope and a riding crop lying around. Sometimes, I could hear them through the bedroom wall, a steady swish of a riding crop against flesh with my father in pain but getting more and more excited. I hope you're not disgusted by what I'm going to tell you now, sometimes, I masturbated while listening to them; it was my way of dealing with it, I suppose; it was either that or trying and failing to get to sleep while being gripped by cringing embarrassment."

"If you can't beat 'em join 'em?"

My wife laughed at the pun, "Yes, precisely."

"Did you ever watch them?"

"No, I wanted to but I was too frightened of the consequences"

"How old were you when all of this was going on?"

"Eighteen through to about twenty-five."

I didn't know what to think, but my cock did, by now I was rock hard again; my wife's admission of her acts of depravity only served to spur me on in my perversion.  She was still in her shift dress and heels; she was her mother, as far as she was concerned. I put her on her back and fucked her again; she joined in enthusiastically; when, as I approached orgasm, I called her Susan, she found another gear; I had to cling on to her to stop myself being tipped onto the floor as she came.

I exploded inside her; we continued to fuck for several minutes.  Eventually, we collapsed, spent; I spooned her, my mind was racing, and I expected hers was too.  Whatever had just happened between us, it wasn't normal, or perhaps it was. I can't have been the first man ever to fantasise about fucking his mother-in-law at the same time as he was fucking his wife.  On the other hand, it was perhaps not normal for my wife to join in with my fantasy and role-play the part of her mother.

"So, you like the idea of me fucking your mother then?"

She turned away from me and said in a small, quiet voice, "...Yes."

"And I don't need to tell you what she was wearing."

"No, ...please, can we do this again sometime; it was so hot."

It seemed like a good moment to give her the rest of the story, "We've arranged for her to bring the sewing machine back next Wednesday afternoon; she left me in no doubt about what she expects to happen; she said it would be best if you weren't here, I didn't disagree with her.  How do you feel about that?"

"Oh, you must think this is the worst kind of depravity but I have to confess, I'm comfortable with it. Perhaps if you'd asked me six months ago, I'd have been shocked; now, the thought of it turns me on. I've seen the way she looks at you; I've always thought that one day she might try to seduce you, especially since my father died.  I want you to sleep with my mother; it's not that I feel any sexual desire for her, although I can see that she's attractive for her age and she oozes sexuality, but no, it's not that, it's that I'll feel even more submissive knowing that you're having an affair with my mother."

"How's that?"

"Well... it's just the thought of my husband pleasuring my mother with complete disregard for me; it's very erotic. It's difficult to explain; it makes me feel abused and taken for granted; at the moment, that really turns me on."

The next morning, my wife's menstrual cycle kicked in, causing a pause in our lovemaking, we'd agreed at the outset that sex on demand would be postponed for the duration of her period.  What this meant in practice was that I wasn't able to fuck her for five days so we indulged in fantasies while we played with each other on a couple of those evenings.

On the Wednesday morning, we both had breakfast and went off to work without mentioning what might happen later that day.  I couldn't concentrate at all; I left work at two-thirty and arrived home at ten minutes to three.  I decided to leave my suit on, I suppose I thought it might impress my mother-in-law.  At three-fifteen, just as I wondered if she'd had second thoughts, my mother-in-law's car reversed into the driveway.  I tried to act casually and let her ring the doorbell rather than open the door for her before she had even got out of her car.  But she took a while, so I gave up and opened it anyway; it was just what she intended so that she could put on a performance for me.

I watched the driver's door open, a stiletto heel and a black stockinged leg planted themselves on the block-paved driveway.  She swivelled; another shapely calf swung out to join the first one; then she slid forward elegantly, and a stocking top and suspender clip came into view, she paused for effect, and my cock, which had already been operating on a low hum, received messages from my brain and began to swell.

She closed the car door, and the seams of her stockings were perfectly aligned; she turned and walked towards me in her close-fitting black miniskirt, red blouse and short black jacket.  The hem of her miniskirt was a tasteful six inches above her elegant knees; her stilettos were at least four inches high, suitably outrageous for a mother-in-law visiting her son-in-law; she looked like sex on legs; at 55 she still had the confidence and the body to carry it off.

She looked me up and down and seemed to approve; as she passed me in the doorway, she dangled her car keys in my direction.

"It's in the boot; would you be a darling and get it for me?"

"Of course."

She walked into the lounge, leaving me to bring the sewing machine in from her car.  When I joined her, she had taken her jacket off and she sat on the settee with her left legs crossed.  Her skirt was pulled taut revealing the outline of suspender straps and fasteners and she was showing the merest glimpse of a black stocking top.  Her fulsome breasts filled out her fitted red blouse which displayed just the right amount of cleavage, within which nestled a gold pendant necklace.

"Put my jacket on a hanger, will you; it's expensive and I don't want to get it creased."

Everything about her looked expensive; she oozed sophistication; I was beginning to think that I was out of my depth.

"Is Rachel at work?"

"Yes."

"And is she coming home at the usual time?"

"Yes, between six and six-thirty, I would imagine."

"Good, and what else have you been imagining just lately?"

"I, well, I..er."

"I'm teasing you, you silly man;  I must say you look handsome in your suit, are you wearing it for me?"

"No, I mean yes, I suppose I am; I kept it on for you."

"Mmm, a sign of respect; I like it, she said as she eyed my groin; are you going to offer me a drink?"

"Oh, Sorry, I wasn't sure what..., sorry would you like tea or coffee?"

"Haven't you got anything stronger?"

"Er, how about a gin and tonic."

"Mmm, that'll be lovely, with ice and lemon."

"Okay, I'll be back in a moment."

I went through to the kitchen to make the drinks, wondering who would make the first move.  As I opened the bottle of gin and picked up a glass, I heard the slow, measured tap tap of stilettos behind me on the tiled kitchen floor.  To my amazement, she wrapped her arms around me; I could feel her breasts with their hard nipples against my back and her mound pressing into my buttocks.  She slipped her right hand around and deftly unzipped my fly; before I could react, she'd got her hand inside my underpants and was caressing my rapidly hardening cock.

I was helpless, with a bottle in one hand and a glass in the other; she turned me around and kissed me, her tongue exploring my mouth and her hand still massaging my penis.  As my cock reached its full extent, she broke the kiss and smiled at me.

"Hmm, what a big boy you are."

She let go of my cock and stepped away from me.

"Finish making those drinks and bring them up to your bedroom."