My Wife's Mother Pt. 01 Day 1

A short tale of my wife's mother.

Lib as everyone called her, was not particularly attractive, much older than the usual mother. She was in her forties when my wife was born, and in her sixties when I married their daughter, never completely understood the reasons for that and really, it didn't matter.

Lib might have been 5' 5" slightly dumpy with the beginnings of that shoulder hump some women get as they age. Hair was always in that shorter "bob" style, common for women her age. Her body, well, she had larger tits, maybe a 34 D cup or bigger, always encased in one of those pointy cupped stiff brassieres. A sexual dream, if it had been 1945 or 1955. Usually dressed in a side zipped skirt, topped by a crisp button up blouse. Sometimes a jacket or sweater completing her outfit. Always a shade of red lipstick, earrings and a perfume commonly used by women of her generation, reminiscent of este lauder or some such scent. Oh..., and usually a long thin cigarette in her fingers or lips, probably something like a Virginia Slims.

Dealings with Lib are more than likely where my small smoking festish started. Hard to say. I was the husband, what I have learned over time, some things women want. A really nice sized cock and I can fix shit! Not being an asshole helps a great deal.

So, since mothers and daughters talk a great deal more than men realize, Lib probably knows more about my and her daughters sex lives than I would think comfortable.

Time passes, Lib has always been flirty, not overboard, kind of the style of an old grandmother, never taken seriously, more a source of talk or stories later generations can laugh about. At least that's what I considered her flirtatious banter, always accompanied by smoking whenever I would be working on some item at her house.

Our affair, if that's what it could be called. began slowly and innocently enough. I was at their home, Bob was at his CPA job, he was within three years of retiring, it was a Thursday, 10am, my wife was at work, it was the beginning of my long weekend off. I'm working on her dishwasher, replacing a pump motor, yeah, people still repaired things then. Lib is normally fully dressed by now, today she wasn't.

Wearing a knee length, quilted robe, hair in rollers, she sat watching me, smoking her cigarette, drinking a cup of coffee. I'm lying on the floor, dressed in shorts and "T" shirt, working or removing the worn out motor, Lib is watching, her usual mildly flirtatious comments not withstanding, I'm paying my usual attention, which is none.

Then her conversation shifts imperceptibly to children, the usual stuff bout making them grandparents and such, but then there's a very quiet comment, I almost couldn't hear it, "Jill says you are "....actively...." working on a baby.". It was so quiet it barely registered in my brain. I made no notice of her comment, did not want to go down that road. At the time, I wasn't aware how much detail Jill had given her mother. Found out later, her daughter had made, out of some ignorance, an enthusiastic utterance that I had a huge penis. I'm not small, but huge was probably an exaggeration!

The damage was done though, Lib had begun to fantasize to the point of obsession, she had to know. Apparently she had chosen today to find out.

Finally removed the troublesome motor, stood up, Lib is twisting her neck, moving it side to side, a pained look on her face. A slim cigarette in her fingers, the smoke drifting upwards, she asks me if I'd be a dear and massage her neck to see if I could ease the spasm. Her only spasm was probably located much further down.

Being the dutiful SIL I would try to help her out, trying to rub her neck and shoulders was difficult through ber robe, but the heavy duty shoulder straps

of her industrial strength bra were the worst. Whatever pain she might have been in, it was worse pushing those things into her skin.

Her idea, not mine, Lib asked me to turn away, she had to get the straps off her shoulders, so I turned away, the polite thing to do, when it was ok, I turned back to my task. Only now the robe was low on the outside of her shoulders, the straps were gone, where.....couldn't tell. Lib was holding her robe together at just above the crease of her breasts, I can see the swelling of them, that starting curve drawing the imagination down. Can't tell for sure, her robe is not completely closed at her legs.

I'm massaging her neck and shoulders, paying attention to the beginning of her back slouch, up the back of her neck, down over the muscles of her shoulders. Lib is quietly groaning her satisfaction with my efforts, the grip on her robe has slipped, more of her cleavage is showing, a nice gap has developed.

Now, you're thinking, I'm her daughter's husband, her SIL, just stop and leave. Well, I'm, at this time, a very normal twenty-five year old man, whose cock will get hard every time it sniffs or thinks it sniffs pussy, the source doesn't seem to matter to a cock.

This was one of those times, Lib was no longer a pudgy, old mother-in-law, with sagging breasts, slight chicken neck and a small roman shaped nose. No, she was rapidly becoming my sexual siren, so much so, my hands were easing from down her back to closer and closer to her nipples. The robe was loosening with every pass down her chest. Her head was lying back, touching my waist, mouth was slightly open, cigarette still stuck between her fingers, my last reach down, I stroked around her areola, pinching her nipples in my fingertips. A grunt escaped her, she lifted her cigarette to her lips, drew a deep breath through it, exhaled from deep in her old lungs. Pulling my face to her, she kissed me with a passion she probably hadn't felt in years. The taste of ashtray, tongue and her perfume was overwhelming for some reason.

She stood, shoving the chair away, her robe fell away, she was naked, the bra fell from her lap, wasn't wearing panties. Lib said nothing, wasn't necessary, she folded over at her waist, resting her age spotted, cellulite spotted back, on the table. Her large breasts partially splaying from either side of her body, the cheeks of her butt have that not quite sagging lack of muscle tone of a woman in her sixties, her breathing is ragged, fast, arms are stretched up above her head. Her cigarette is crimped between her fingers, smoke drifting up, eyes shut, anticipating what's next.

I found it odd she didn't reach for my cock, she just laid on her table, waiting. Much later some things my wife told me, as well as hinting about some others finally clearing my confusion as to what that was about. Turns out Lib had always maintained an asexual relationship with her husband. My wife, according to her, was probably the result of a late night, way to much alcohol, drunken round of sex. My wife was the result, thankfully.

I can only speculate her current attack of sexual experimentation was a result of some late life hormonal spike or maybe a late life "what have I missed!" thing. Fact is, I do not know.

What I do know, all the common sense I should have, is dripping out of the end of a very hard cock. I stripped in record time, her forehead resting on an arm, she may be close to hyperventilating she huffing air that fast. She hasn't looked at me yet, I stepped to her soft butt, pushing my hard shaft down below an already wet, gash of old pussy. I just let it slap upwards, think it popped her clit and stayed there.

Her head rose up, surprised or shocked, a grunting "Ohhh....My Heavens!" escapes her mouth. Pulling back I'm pulling my glans through her gash, liquid is running freely from her fat, engorged, loose, cunt lips. I can just...feel the opening to her sex, what will surprise me, is the real tightness of her pussy. Shouldn't have been a surprise, other than one birth and very little use in all those sixty odd years, no reason for any wear and tear is there. Crap, she was practically a virgin, as those things are measured.

Started pushing, her hands clench, mouth is opening and closing, luckily I'm smart enough to go slow, giving her pussy time to stretch open. Guessing I may be much thicker than my FIL, for what that's worth. Her daughter was now used to me slamming her pussy, took some work and practice but she enjoys a good hard fuck now and again. Her mother, well time would tell, for now slow and steady wins this race.

I'm pushing in, pulling back, sinking a little deeper on every stroke, Lib is a continuous stream of grunting "Unh...Unh...Unh's!" on each movement either direction. Her daughter wasn't this tight the first time we had sex, but, she also was and is way more elastic than her sixty years old mother!

For an old broad Lib would prove to have a very deep pussy, either that or things had moved around some. At nine inches and thick, my last two or three inches either slipped around her uterus or inside it, at that time, I wasn't smart or knowledgeable enough to know the difference. Only knowledge I had at the time was the fact her daughter eventually stretched or expanded enough to take my length, although sometimes not comfortably.

Her body, bent over the table, I'd need to take things a little slow, maybe. After several minutes of listening to her grunt or moan at my entry to her mostly unused pussy, I was as far up her as I should go. Lib was an almost blubbering mess and I had not even tried to fuck her yet. She was blubbering noises, salivia dripping from her mouth, I can hear a strained quiet, whisper almost, "She was right....She was right!", mixed in with more groaning, "Unh's!". This and I had done nothing but stay still, what was she gonna be like in a few minutes.

I slowly felt her pussy started relaxing some, she was getting wetter, liquid was seeping around the seal of my meat, dripping down my balls to the floor. Pulling back halfway, pushing back inside, her back arched, muscles cramped, pussy clenching on me, damn, she screamed a loud "Oh My!" and dropped to the table. That orgasm must've been hidden for years waiting to bust out, I don't know if she squirted, or what, but her bladder emptied a little, a puddle of something flooded from her, washing over my balls to the floor.

The muscles of her pussy loosening, I didn't give her time to change her mind, not that she would, I'm pulling back, pushing in, a little further each stroke, trying not to pound her cervix but slowly losing that battle. Lib isn't moving, laying there taking the fucking she's getting, mouth is open, grunting, groaning, her little used hole is opening up, her legs have spread open, outer labia have spread, her crotch is a soaking mess of wet, greying pubic hair. Her hole feels like some wet, hot, wide open clam. She's farting or queefing the air I'm pushing in her open hole. A truly obscene sound if one exists, combined with the liquid sloppy noise of my cock rearranging her pussy, the ripples of my hips, now popping her soft butt, she orgasms again, her old body cramping up in spasms. She may be locked up in an almost continuous spasm of her orgasms. Her pussy is flooding, saliva pooling around her face, she doesn't move much, just cramping and releasing.

The whole scene, for some reason, has struck some nerve in me. My balls are boiling, not fucking her as hard as she deserves, sweat is running down my back, through the crack of my ass, down my chest, dripping on her butt. A few seconds and I'm filling her old hole with a large load of cum. My cock strokes into her for several moments, eventually lodged against her unused uterus, my last spurts, I think, pumping cum in her unused baby factory.

Gradually I soften, Lib doesn't move, laying there, breathing hard, her pussy twitching, small flexing ripples move up and around my softening meat, I fall out of her now wide open, gaping hole, a large slug of white cum plopped with a splat on the floor.

The mother of my wife, whom I love dearly, looks broken, wasted at the very least! Usually, Jill would clean me and I her, Lib was in no shape for that particular joy, at this time, maybe later, don't know. Wiped our mess on her robe, dressed, leaning over I kissed her forehead softly, "Thank you for this!" was all I could think to say, lame, I know.

I probably should have been more concerned, didn't know any better, she wasn't moving, only breathing slowly, her face resting in the puddle of her spit, as I turned to leave, Lib asked me, "Could you light a cigarette for me, I don't think my arms are steady enough!"

I'm not a smoker but I was going to perform a task I would use to great effect many years down the road. Pulling one of her Slims from her open pack, placing it in my lips, holding her lighter to the end, drew only enough air to ignite the tobacco. Took it between my thumb and forefinger, placed the burning, thin cylinder at the mid point of her left lips, she thanked me, whether for the cigarette or the fuck, didn't matter, drew a deep breath, the cigarette glowed bright red, smoke pouring from her nose, I gathered my tools, the bad motor and left. Told her I'd be back tomorrow with the new parts, shut the door and drove home.

Hopefully Lib would be presentable when Bob got home from work in a few short hours. Otherwise he was in for a life altering shock!

End of day one, wasn't certain where this was going. Hopefully not a divorce!