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Subject: "My Mother-Out-Law" 48492
From: INCEST MAN <familyincest@graffiti.net>
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Date: Fri, 05 Jun 2009 09:00:32 +0000
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http://www.incesttabooo.com/theincest.html
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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