Mother in Law or Milf-Whore?

It's been a year since my daughter Keira got promoted to the Manager's job at the stable where she's worked in since leaving school. Besides a substantial pay rise, the job provides Keira and her husband Sam with free accommodation, as she now needs to live on site. They've been sensible though and continue to make payments on their own mortgage and rent that house out.

The move does mean that Sam's got an extra twenty-minutes commuting to his job, though that's offset by Keira no longer having to drive a similar distance in the opposite direction. The only downside of which they both regularly complain comes whenever there's a social event; they're now living eleven miles away from most of their friends.

On the rare occasions they could find a taxi driver willing to drive out into the countryside, the fare was astronomical. So nowadays, so either one of them needs to stay sober and do the driving, or as happens more often, they spend the night at our house; it's a rare week when one or both of them doesn't bunk down in our spare room for at least one night.

That was the case last Thursday: The two of them were due to attend a friend's birthday party, so would leave their car in town, from where it's a five or ten minute taxi ride to our house. It's not very far, in fact when Sam's on his own he often walks back; claiming that the exercise helps him to avoid, or at least mitigate, any hangover the following morning.

Being a midweek night my husband Ted had gone to bed before ten o'clock; Ted starts work early so he needs to be up before six. As for myself, I tend to stay up a little later to watch the late night news on TV before turning in; not that it matters, Keira and Sam would arrive much later, let themselves in and slip quietly into what was Keira's old bedroom.

Having changed into my night-dress and been to the bathroom, I went downstairs again to make one final check of the house; not least to ensure that neither Ted or I had absent mindedly dead-locked the front door. We'd made that mistake once before and had Keira ringing the doorbell and beating on the front door at one-thirty in the morning!

Having satisfied myself that all was well, I'd barely started back up the stairs -- perhaps reaching the third or fourth step -- when I heard a key turning in the door; though I'd not seen car lights shining on the driveway. I turned around just as Sam stepped, or perhaps staggered is a better description, through our front door.

"Hi Jean, I didn't wake you did I?"

"No, I was only just going up..." As Sam closed the door and dead-locked it behind himself, I added: "Where's Keira, is she not with you?"

"Nah... One of the horses is threatening to drop a foal so she wouldn't come out; she's back at the stable."

Which presumably explained the lack of a taxi's headlights. "So you've walked back from town?"

"Yeah, we made an early start, straight after work, so I bailed out when the rest of the gang started talking about going on to a night club. I know it's early, but I'd got enough beer down, especially as I want to be in the office early tomorrow morning"

I couldn't help but smile on hearing that, from the way Sam had stumbled through the door, I'd have guessed that he'd probably got more than 'enough beer down' an hour ago. Sam met my smile with one of his own, though it was a tad lop-sided and his eyes had a somewhat glazed look about them. "Well, you know where your bedroom is, so if there's nothing you need, I'll be off to mine."

"Nah I'm right Jean; I'll sort myself out..." I'd half turned away when Sam concluded: "No, hang on Jean... there is something you could do for me."

I spun back around to find out what. While Sam was still smiling, his expression had changed and so too had his eyes; both had acquired a... harder edge to them and Sam's eyes were now directed towards my legs rather than my face.

I'm sure my complexion coloured in that moment, though it likely wasn't apparent in the dim glow being emitted by the hall and staircases' nightlights. I had a sudden feeling of being... underdressed and became flustered with the realisation; Sam's eyes continuing to stare didn't help matters.

The nightdress I was wearing was rather diaphanous and reached barely halfway down my thighs; that brevity was no doubt exacerbated by my standing on the staircase, placing me a couple of feet higher than Sam. While Sam had seen me and more than once, in a swimsuit, being in my night attire felt far more... revealing.

My exposure, though I didn't learn of it until later, had actually been worse than I'd feared: With the far brighter lights of the landing shining down on me from above, that nightgown I was wearing had been damned near translucent; I'd been showing off all I had to offer! My voice, along with my legs, were trembling when I answered "And what's that Sam?"

The discomposure I'd been feeling was as nothing compared to that which hit me when Sam responded: "You can get your knickers off and open your legs..." I had to grab hold of the handrail to keep myself upright; I was flabbergasted, that was the most disgraceful and... and... inappropriate, suggestion I'd ever heard.

I just wish that I could say it remained so, but it held that inappropriateness record for barely twenty seconds: Sam's eyes had finally lifted from my legs -- had it been my legs or groin that he'd been ogling? - and were now locked onto mine; we held that shared gaze for nineteen of those twenty seconds before I replied.

I say 'replied', but I didn't actually speak: I slid my hands up beneath the hem of my night dress, pulled my panties down to my knees, from where they fell of their own accord to my ankles. A couple of quick steps and they were laid on the staircase beside me; I tore my eyes from Sam to look up, down and sideways... Anywhere but directly towards him.

It was an outrageous thing for me to have done; despite Sam's inebriation and his having been the one to ask, in that moment before I broke eye contact with Sam, even he had looked astounded. Sam's a very handsome young man and yes, he - among others -- has made more than one appearance in my bedroom fantasies, but for God's sake... Sam's married to my daughter!

Those few seconds had given Sam time to collect himself; though he'd perhaps misconstrued my wide ranging gaze? "Where you are will do fine Jean... Just sit down on that step you're standing on and open those gorgeous legs of yours. I sat where Sam had suggested, though I landed with more of a bump than perhaps either of us expected.

The magnitude of what I'd so recklessly done had by then caught up with me, so rather than just bending, my legs had buckled beneath me. Sam didn't notice... Or perhaps he didn't care, about my regrets? "Spread 'em wider than that Jean... Let's see what you've got to offer." There was another pause, but ultimately, I acceded to Sam's demand.

And 'Spreading 'em wider' was all that I needed to do. My arms were beside me, resting on the step above; to help maintain balance as much as anything, I was shaking like a leaf. As my thighs parted, the gossamer fabric of my nightdress slid up them; my pubic hair's, fine, blonde and sparse... So I was in no doubt that Sam could see all that I'd 'got to offer'.

Sam's staring fixedly between my legs, in conjunction with his growled "Fuck me... Sweet as..." suggested that he was more than enamoured with what he saw there. An opinion confirmed by the frantic speed with which Sam unfastened his belt and trousers while walking towards me; he kicked clear of those at the foot of the stairs and it was now my turn to gape.

As he with me, I'd often seen Sam in his swim-shorts -- sometimes when wet! - on family holidays, so I had an inkling as to just how well... endowed he might be. Those appraisals perhaps also helped to explain why Sam had so often appeared in my bedroom fantasies? But my estimates had been under... Way under; Sam was hung like that proverbial horse!

I would have been terrified had I had the time to be so, but by then Sam was knelt on the stair tread below me, steering that... that... monster, between the delicate petals of my labia. My trembling had gotten worse and I was mewling like a lost kitten; Sam hadn't even prepared me with his fingers, that thing was going to tear me apart.

When it arrived, Sam's initial thrust was a surprise, or perhaps I should say relief. It was far more restrained than Sam's approach had threatened and towards half of his cock slid into me and it did so easily. I had to be very wet down there... How on earth had I managed that? Sam hadn't been here five minutes, nor had he laid a finger on me and I hadn't been in any way... aroused, prior to his arrival.

I couldn't answer any of those questions, but by the time Sam, with three more of those restrained strokes, had buried his whole length inside me, I no longer cared. Some of those fantasies had been good, but the 'real thing' was just mind-blowing; I grabbed Sam by his ears and for the very first time, kissed him firmly on the mouth.

When I released him Sam looked gobsmacked, but his expression soon changed as a wicked grin spread across his face. "You're loving it aren't you Jean... A right MILF-whore, just like I've always imagined."

"You'd better believe it..." I paused to kiss Sam again, just as hard, but this time with my tongue exploring his mouth too. "And don't you dare stop until your MILF-whore's orgasmed."

Sam's response was another one of those wicked grins, swiftly followed by another and much harder penetration from his gorgeous cock. Those continued, becoming harder and much faster than his initial ones and with my hips pinned against the staircase behind me and my arms draped around Sam's neck, I was absorbing the full impact of every one.

I don't think I'd ever been fucked so hard in my life and Sam was sinking so deep, it felt like the head of his cock might appear out of my mouth; a truly awesome experience. Sam punctuated each thudding penetration with a growl of "MILF-whore." Though all that I could manage in response was a stream of grunts and gasps.

The outcome was inevitable and not long in arriving; I climaxed and climaxed hard. It was fortunate that I'd both maintained my grasp of Sam's neck and that the shirt he was still wearing was a heavy, denim affair; I caught the collar of that between my teeth and bit onto it hard to quell the scream of release that was fighting to escape my lungs.

If that had escaped it wouldn't just have been my husband, but the whole street who would have been coming to investigate it. Sam ceased pounding into me as I twitched and shuddered beneath him, those too were as violent as I'd ever known; perhaps my subsuming that orgasmic scream resulted in that energy dispersing in other ways?

When I managed to get myself under some sort of control and eased away from Sam, it was to see another - or perhaps the same one? - grin plastered across his face, disturbed by a low-spoken "So you're a noisy whore too."

That drew a grin of my own along with a vigorous nod of agreement. I kissed Sam again too and only after that did I speak; that came out as a whisper "You... you've not come yet have you?"

"Don't worry Jean, I've got more than enough fuel left in the tank to bring you off for a second time."

Those words were delivered with a smile, though I doubt it was as broad as the one which spread across my own face in the seconds before I whispered "Good."

My smile perhaps wavered when Sam stood upright a moment later; he slapped me lightly on the thigh as his still hard cock pulled clear with a squelch. But that waver was short lived, my smile was back to full beam once he gestured with his hand and instructed "Turn over Jean... Onto your knees, I want to fuck you doggy-style."

My compliance was immediate and accompanied by a squeal of delight. In my excitement I was carelessly loud with that, whereupon both Sam and I fell silent for several seconds; I'm sure that his eyes, like my own were trained on my bedroom door, our ears straining to hear any sounds of movement from Ted.

The passing of that concern was confirmed by the sensation of Sam's cock sliding into my pussy once more; his second intrusion was achieved even more easily... By now I was dripping wet! Sam was very quickly 'back up to speed' and I was again voicing a stream of grunts and gasps with each thrust of his gorgeous cock.

Sam's hands grasped my hips as he subjected me to a series of powerful and individual penetrations. Each stroke was separated by short pause, during which Sam's deeply buried cock would circle and grind within my slick pussy. As it had been earlier, albeit now with the front of my thighs, rather than my hips wedged against the step above, I had to absorb the full weight of Sam's assault.

The weight of that assault increased still further when Sam's left hand slid up from my hip to instead entwine in my hair. Sam pulled back, arching my spine, after which his thrusts felt to penetrate even more deeply and land even harder; which was when I felt my breasts begin to sway and bump against each other beneath my nightdress.

I could hear my boobs colliding with each other too; they were sweat-soaked and slapped together wetly. Did Sam hear the sound as well; was that what drew his attention to them? Sam's right hand slid forward too, pushing my night-dress up around my shoulders and collar bone before dropping back to grope at each of those swaying orbs in turn.

Sam's grip was as forceful as the pounding of his cock between my legs. Perhaps it needed to be, to maintain a grip on my perspiration-slick flesh; though more likely, it was just that enjoyed handling his MILF-whore roughly? Not that I was complaining; far from it, that addition to the mix had me groaning and gasping even more loudly.

Sam's lips were now close to my right ear and each hard thrust of his cock was accompanied by a snarl of "Take It!" and his subsequent withdrawal by a growled "Milf-Whore".

Outrageous? Undoubtedly... But my gasping "Yessssss" in response to every one, would have done nothing to discourage Sam from his verbal, or indeed his physical assault upon me.

Sam continued fucking me like that for a further minute or so, towards the end of which I felt his cock, to be honest, Sam's whole body seemingly tense-up and begin to.... vibrate. When Sam's fingers closed even harder -- and this time didn't release -- onto my left nipple; I knew that his climax was imminent and remember thinking, though didn't voice, a single word: "DAMN!"

I wasn't quite there and Sam presumably sensed that too; an instant later, that hand clawing at my breast dropped between my legs and two -- at least! - of Sam's fingers drove in alongside his cock to ravage my clitoris instead. I feared even that wouldn't tip the balance, but an instant later, when the first stream of Sam's semen flooded into me, I went off like a bloody volcano!

This time there was no shirt collar within range of my mouth, but the fabric of my ruckled nightdress instead saved the day. That had been irritating the life out of me, billowing up around my chin and face with each incursion of Sam's fat cock, but in that moment all was forgiven; catching it between my teeth I worried at it like a rabid dog.

As I'd discovered earlier, that need for silence seemed to intensify the strength of my climax; I was bucking and jerking beneath Sam in response to each gout of cum that he hosed into me... and Sam unloaded several. With the last, Sam released his grip on my hair and once that support was gone, I slumped onto the stairs, in a twitching heap.

We lay there for some while. I felt Sam's cock soften and slip free and in the moment after it did, I felt Sam's cum and no doubt my own juices begin to trickle down my thigh. Without looking I groped on the stair tread beside me until I found my discarded panties; having wiped up the outpourings that'd already escaped, I wedged those into my pussy to prevent any more from escaping.

Doing that seemed to... Break the spell. I began to squirm beneath Sam and once he eased the load of his weight, I wriggled free and began to scramble up the stairs. I made it up about three steps before Sam caught me by the ankle and jerked me back down again; I landed on my bum with a thud, on exactly the same step that I'd started from.

Sam, still on his knees, moved up two steps; an evil smile on his face as he whispered "Not yet Jean... I've got one more task for you before you go upstairs to bed." Sam nodded towards his flaccid and syrupy cock; that was hanging barely six inches in front of my face, so the gesture was unnecessary; Sam's requirement was obvious, though he clarified anyway:

"Come on Jean. Think of the mess that'll make if I put it back in my pants; Keira will guess that I've been dipping my wick when she comes to wash them and neither of us wants her asking, who with."

I wasn't a complete novice, I'd occasionally allowed Ted to put cock into my mouth over the years; generally on his birthday or our wedding anniversary. But those had invariably been before rather than after the event; Ted would never contemplate asking me to... clean-up his cock after we'd had sex.

But Ted of course would show consideration and respect for his life-partner; while rather than my being a 'wife' to Sam, I was nothing more than his 'MILF-Whore'. Though I shuddered at the prospect, that shudder wasn't born of disgust but of excitement; I had relished playing the whore for my son-in-law and what better way than this to affirm my... submission.

I reached that decision quickly, certainly more quickly than Sam had perhaps expected; assuming that he'd even anticipated my consent at all. My hand was wrapped around his flaccid cock within three seconds of his demand -- Wow, that was a slippery-snake now! - and sliding between my lips not two seconds after that.

A bestial growl bubbled-up from deep in Sam's chest, which concluded with an "Oh fuck yes Jean... you really are a MILF-Whore." I kept my head and eyes lowered to hide the smile which spread across my face on hearing Sam's words; that smile made my lips part, easing their grip on Sam's shaft and I took full advantage of the opportunity:

Tightening my grip on Sam's shaft, I pulled back until the crown of Sam's cock had burst free of it's sheath and then laved my tongue firmly around the base of Sam's crown; that was a favourite of Ted's, so I wasn't surprised by the gasping snarl that it drew from Sam. What did surprise me was my own reaction.

I'd tasted a man's cum before and my own juices often; but the intensity of flavour that I found in that moment had me gasping in delight; it seemed to explode in my mouth. My tongue continued to circulate, no doubt in the hope of getting a second... fix, but that hope was unsurprisingly forlorn, the spicy-sweet flavour faded with each circuit.

I slid free of Sam's cock head and my tongue progressed along the full length of his shaft -- I even sucked my fingers clean along the way. - before moving on to his inner thighs and balls; I didn't stop until I'd cleaned up every drop. My conclusion when it eventually arrived was abrupt and punctuated with a squawk.

I realised that my attentions were beginning to get Sam hard again and that brought me back to reality with a bump. Pushing Sam away I leapt to my feet and made a second dash for the sanctuary of my bedroom; this time, with Sam still distracted by his growing arousal, my escape proved successful.

I could hear Sam's laughter as I scampered up the stairs, the sound cutting off... To be replaced by the gentle snoring of my husband, when I closed the bedroom door behind me. I leant against that door until my heaving chest and racing heartbeat both settled themselves down; during that, I also heard Sam's footsteps on the landing as he went to his own bedroom.