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Subject: Title story: "My Mother-Out-Law" Author: INCEST MAN 56759926
From: Family Man <familyincest@graffiti.net>
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Date: Fri, 14 Oct 2005 03:18:55 +0000
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http://www.incesttabooo.com/
My Mother-Out-Law
By Big Timber
It was early on a Wednesday morning after my wife had gone to work. I got out of
bed, wearing only a t-shirt, and headed into the laundry room to get some
shorts. I would have to dress before going upstairs to the kitchen for coffee.
My Mother-in-Law had spent the night, and I expected her to be at the table,
already buzzing with coffee and late-breaking news.
She had stayed up late with Janet and I, drinking and talking. With her years of
experience as a foreign correspondent for a major cable network, she had plenty
of juicy stories to tell, lots of behind the scenes dish. As the evening wore on
and Janet dozed on the couch, Ronni's jokes and antecdotes grew more risque.
Long after taking my wife to bed, my mind was filled with images of my Mother-in-
Law, walking in on blow jobs in congressional offices, being hit on by
ambassadors from Africa, wild and insane situations that most everyday people
would never believe could happen. But they happened to Ronni.
Ronni was not beautiful. However, her rather plain face was smooth and taught,
in spite of her fifty plus years, and she was quite fetching when fully made up,
always dressed impeccably in the latest business fashions. She had once been
quite large in the bust, and still given to wearing low-cut, revealing blouses.
She seemed to prefer midlength skirts, unbuttoned from the hem at one side. When
she sat, puffing a cigarette and crossing her well-formed legs, one couldn't
help but be taken in by her mature, womanly allure. I found myself thinking of
her as I squatted, naked from the waist down to reach into the dryer. I looked
up. She was standing in the doorway of the laundry room, coffee cup in hand.
When our eyes met, she quickly turned her head.
"Ooh," she said, "excuse me."
"It's alright," I responded, pulling my t-shirt down over my genitals. I
expected her to leave the room, but she didn't. She kept her head turned
slightly to the side, and proceeded to explain that she'd left some of her
things on top of the washer.
"Do you see them?" she asked, innocently enough. She had an odd smile on her
face as she made a show of looking away from me. I felt myself growing stiff as
I stood up, still clutching the hem of my rather short T-shirt. There was an
incredible sexual tension in the air. After all, she was my mother-in-law. She
wasn't supposed to see my penis. I couldn't lie to myself, though. I wanted her
to see it, to look at it, to want it.
Nervous to the point of trembling, I reached for the neatly folded stack of silk
and lace underthings on the washer. She turned her eyes toward me, fixing me
with her stare, then looked down deliberately as my erection came into view. I
handed them to her as my pole bobbed uncontrollably from beneath my shirt. She
took the underwear with one hand, threw it back on the washer, and looking cooly
into my eyes, reached nonchalantly for my penis with the other. She touched the
head with her thumb, lightly tracing the groove on its underside with her
forefinger. Tapping it playfully, she smiled,
"You'd better find someplace to put this."
I shuddered involuntarily. I looked down to see a clear droplet of precome ooze
from the slit of my cock. Ronni looked down, smiled secretively, and spread the
crystalline gel over the flaring head with her manicured pinky.
"You've got a pretty weiny," she crooned as she toyed with me me. Collaring the
stiffening shaft with her fingers, she pulled my scarce foreskin back and forth.
Out of control, I began to thrust my hips, coming in short, quick spurts as she
squeezed and stroked, laughing coarsely but softly at my spontaneous, obviously
premature reaction.
I shot all over her pajama bottoms and fat thighs as she stood, one hand cupping
my swolen testicles, the other hand alternately teasing with her fingetips and
milking me with a rythmic stroke of her fisted hand. She looked up into my eyes
as she worked, smiling that odd smile, grunting softly as she squeezed, running
her grip along the length of my member, forcing thick jets of clabor through my
peehole. Come spattered loudly on her legs, trickling down her strong shapely
calves. Her knees worked back and forth. In the space of a few seconds, she
looked suddenly distressed, as if she needed to pee. Then she'd smile, as if
relief had passed over her. I could tell Ronni liked it.
"Now look what you've done," she said with mock irritation, releasing my prong
and staring at the lathery white mess on her hands and pajamas. "Guess this will
need cleaning, too."
She turned her back to me and leaned forward to slip off the silken boxers. Her
large, once perfect bum popped out, she wriggled her full hips and the cheeks
shook. I felt myself spurt again, once, twice. Then, leaning over the drier, she
commanded, "Clean it up, sweetie, clean it good for Ronni."
She reached behind with both hands and opened the crack of her ass for me. I
fell to my knees, lapping like an obedient dog, indiscriminately licking her
asshole and wet, auburn-haired pussy as I ran my fingers lightly over her plump
cheeks . She was delicious. Never had I experienced such gratification, my mind
was befuddled, totally numbed with Ronni's phermone spray. I loved this woman's
pussy. I licked her good. She pushed back at me, silently demanding penetration.
I separated her puffy lips, combing the thick pubic hair away with my fingers,
and tongue-fucked her hot hole.
Ronni writhed and danced, wiggling and thrusting as she came. Her juices ran
bitter on my tongue. She bellowed with delight, looking over her shoulder at me
with an expression of surprise and awe as the pulsing beat off her orgasm grew
to fever pitch. She humped my mouth feverishly, a bitch in heat, squatting and
wiggling until finally, she could take no more.
"Stop. Stop." Ronni panted as her passion began to subside. She pulled away,
stood up straight, took a fresh pair of panties from the top of the pile and
stepped into them. A trail of glistening love-squirt crept down her leg. "Get
that for me," she said matter-of-factly. She squatted slightly and allowed me to
lap between her thighs until she was clean. She pulled the black lace panties
up, placed a hand on my cheek, and made a kissy face. Then my mother-in-law
turned and left the room as if nothing at all had ever happened.
END
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