Mother in law sex slut mature. Mother in law.



Mother in law sex slut mature

Mother in law sex slut mature

Tap on your Preferred Language! Betty did get into money troubles just as described and I did bail her out. Blackmailing Betty I had been working from home when the call came.

We managed polite conversation but never had any great friendship. For her to phone me up — and do so when she knew my wife was at work — was a rarity.

I figured she must have some emergency — a burst pipe or some problem with her washing machine. Whatever the problem was it must be serious. She was flustered and her eyes were red as if she had been crying. I followed her down the hallway — trying to ignore the faint but persistent smell of cats that always hung around her house. She might be a pillar of the church but she was a slut about the house.

I was watching her large buttocks as I followed her down the hallway. One of my biggest regrets was that Betty wore long dresses all the time now. She was approaching her 75th birthday but when I had first known her — some 30 years ago — she had always worn above the knee dresses or skirts.

Even when I had first got married to her daughter I had often fantasised fucking Betty — sometimes I even imagined it as I was fucking my wife — because Betty had been a handsome woman in those days.

Adding to her allure was the fact that she had been widowed for some while and had never had a man since. Nothing had changed — Betty was still unfucked some 12 years later. The major benefit from her wearing shorter skirts was the fact that, whenever I could, I would sneak peeks up between her legs.

I had been investigating the contents of her underwear drawer from the very first time I had been trusted with a key to her house when she was away on church coach holidays.

That was just a year after I first met her daughter and I soon had a secret duplicate key cut for my own use. My mind was on her knickers as I studied her large arse because I could imagine the outline of them through her flowered dress. As usual my cock stirred slightly as I imagined parting her big, soft bum-cheeks and plunging my shaft between them.

It was never going to happen, of course. The chances of her allowing any man anywhere near her cunt were similar and the chances of her son-in-law being the man in question were nil.

We entered the sitting room and Betty flopped down into her old armchair. Like most of her furniture it had seen better days and it sagged badly. Not that I minded. At that moment, no matter how tightly her knees had been clamped together up until then, they would part and give me a glimpse of heaven. The memory of those gusset views flashed through my mind as I waited for my mother-in law to get to the point and tell me what the problem was. No chance of seeing up between her legs today as she was wearing a flower-print dress which came halfway down her calves - although it was a button-through type and it gaped at the bottom to show several inches of lace trimmed slip.

That day she had chosen a pink cardigan to wear over her dress. I risked a quick glance at her tits and saw, as usual, that her large nipples were just making their presence apparent. Much to her obvious embarrasment her nipples seem to have a mind of their own and, never less than semi-erect, they stiffen and swell if the temperature drops in the slightest.

Often she will cross her arms across her chest to hide these obvious swellings but that day they were only just visible and she was obviously too pre-occupied to worry about them. To pay for my sister-in-laws wedding some years ago she had taken out a loan. When she got into difficulties with that she had taken out another to pay it off — from a nice man who called every week to collect the money.

I was watching her sob — an activity that made her tits move in a very attractive manner — and thinking that we could afford to bail her out and I could probably get the money by the end of the week when she blurted out something that totally altered my half-formed plan.

I looked at my mother in law as she sat huddled and weeping in her chair. I was furious with the loan collector. The name and address of the agent was written on the inside of the cover and it seemed he lived a couple of miles away.

Betty looked up at me, desperation on her tear-streaked face. Now — you stay here and wait for me to come back. I could feel my cock stirring. It was such a turn-on to have the old cow in my power like this after so many years of her snooty, superior attitude towards me. The agent lived in a smart detached house in a leafy avenue. Business was obviously good. You wanted her to suck your cock in return for you paying off half her weekly repayments.

I have her statement here and I think we should talk. Over twenty years in the Police force had given me an insight into all these doorstep cons and it came to me where I had seen his smiling face before. I was retired from the force but I had a good memory. He knew he was rumbled.

The threats of court proceedings and house reposession was just to add a little urgency. Harry had a record and had served time. What attracted you there, Harry?

Not been a man round there for years, has there? Then she gets all prudish and disgusted. I laughed with him. As long as I got what I wanted out of it. I explained to Harry how our new partnership would work and exactly what I wanted from him. He chuckled as I explained my plan. He was still chuckling as I left. Betty must have been looking out for my car because the front door was open before I got to it. Her anxious face searched mine for signs of hope.

I looked suitably serious and walked past her into the lounge. She followed and collapsed into her armchair. Years of interviewing suspects had taught me all about how to gain and keep control of an interview so I remained standing, looming over Betty as she sat anxiously in her chair.

What did he say? Will I have to go to Court? Will I lose the house? Now we knew who was giving the orders. I walked over to the display cabinet where Betty kept wine glasses. I pulled a bottle of sherry from the bag I had collected from home and poured us both a large glass. With a look of distaste she raised the glass and drained the contents.

Her face screwed up as she swallowed. Betty now had the equivalent of a treble vodka and a single sweet sherry inside her — and on an empty stomach too.

I waited for her to stop spluttering before I continued. I was surprised that the alcohol was taking effect so fast but then I remembered how fuzzy she had got after one glass of wine last Xmas Day. She had no tolerance for alcohol at all. Women who owe money try that all the time. I saw lots of cases when I was in the force. I saw her misery deepen as I stamped that little spark of hope out. I asked and asked……. He comes round every week and you pay half the amount…..

She would have to appear to go along with his suggestion. I would phone him I told her that the agent was waiting for her decision even now and get him to come round as soon as possible. I showed Betty the small digital voice recorder I had brought from home. Betty was horrified — photographs!!! I explained that photographic proof was needed too.

By now she was too defeated and squiffy to think straight anyway. She had only herself to blame for this situation and if the solution went against all her upbringing and morals — what choice did she have? I picked up the phone and dialled. My mother-in-law agrees with your terms.

Knowing her lack of tolerance for alcohol I knew that she must, by now, be fairly inebriated. By the time the doorbell rang she was finding it hard to focus and was obviously dreading what was to come. I ushered Harry in. I was curt and businesslike. This, I had told my subdued mother-in-law earlier, was where we got Harry on record demanding sex with menaces.

Maybe a tit-wank now and again. Oh, and a cup of tea afterwards — two sugars! I had been watching Betty flinch as Harry described the sexual acts he was demanding of her.

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Mother in law sex slut mature

Tap on your Preferred Language! Betty did get into money troubles just as described and I did bail her out. Blackmailing Betty I had been working from home when the call came. We managed polite conversation but never had any great friendship. For her to phone me up — and do so when she knew my wife was at work — was a rarity. I figured she must have some emergency — a burst pipe or some problem with her washing machine. Whatever the problem was it must be serious.

She was flustered and her eyes were red as if she had been crying. I followed her down the hallway — trying to ignore the faint but persistent smell of cats that always hung around her house. She might be a pillar of the church but she was a slut about the house. I was watching her large buttocks as I followed her down the hallway.

One of my biggest regrets was that Betty wore long dresses all the time now. She was approaching her 75th birthday but when I had first known her — some 30 years ago — she had always worn above the knee dresses or skirts.

Even when I had first got married to her daughter I had often fantasised fucking Betty — sometimes I even imagined it as I was fucking my wife — because Betty had been a handsome woman in those days.

Adding to her allure was the fact that she had been widowed for some while and had never had a man since. Nothing had changed — Betty was still unfucked some 12 years later. The major benefit from her wearing shorter skirts was the fact that, whenever I could, I would sneak peeks up between her legs.

I had been investigating the contents of her underwear drawer from the very first time I had been trusted with a key to her house when she was away on church coach holidays. That was just a year after I first met her daughter and I soon had a secret duplicate key cut for my own use. My mind was on her knickers as I studied her large arse because I could imagine the outline of them through her flowered dress.

As usual my cock stirred slightly as I imagined parting her big, soft bum-cheeks and plunging my shaft between them. It was never going to happen, of course. The chances of her allowing any man anywhere near her cunt were similar and the chances of her son-in-law being the man in question were nil. We entered the sitting room and Betty flopped down into her old armchair. Like most of her furniture it had seen better days and it sagged badly.

Not that I minded. At that moment, no matter how tightly her knees had been clamped together up until then, they would part and give me a glimpse of heaven. The memory of those gusset views flashed through my mind as I waited for my mother-in law to get to the point and tell me what the problem was.

No chance of seeing up between her legs today as she was wearing a flower-print dress which came halfway down her calves - although it was a button-through type and it gaped at the bottom to show several inches of lace trimmed slip. That day she had chosen a pink cardigan to wear over her dress. I risked a quick glance at her tits and saw, as usual, that her large nipples were just making their presence apparent.

Much to her obvious embarrasment her nipples seem to have a mind of their own and, never less than semi-erect, they stiffen and swell if the temperature drops in the slightest. Often she will cross her arms across her chest to hide these obvious swellings but that day they were only just visible and she was obviously too pre-occupied to worry about them.

To pay for my sister-in-laws wedding some years ago she had taken out a loan. When she got into difficulties with that she had taken out another to pay it off — from a nice man who called every week to collect the money. I was watching her sob — an activity that made her tits move in a very attractive manner — and thinking that we could afford to bail her out and I could probably get the money by the end of the week when she blurted out something that totally altered my half-formed plan.

I looked at my mother in law as she sat huddled and weeping in her chair. I was furious with the loan collector. The name and address of the agent was written on the inside of the cover and it seemed he lived a couple of miles away. Betty looked up at me, desperation on her tear-streaked face. Now — you stay here and wait for me to come back. I could feel my cock stirring. It was such a turn-on to have the old cow in my power like this after so many years of her snooty, superior attitude towards me.

The agent lived in a smart detached house in a leafy avenue. Business was obviously good. You wanted her to suck your cock in return for you paying off half her weekly repayments. I have her statement here and I think we should talk.

Over twenty years in the Police force had given me an insight into all these doorstep cons and it came to me where I had seen his smiling face before. I was retired from the force but I had a good memory. He knew he was rumbled. The threats of court proceedings and house reposession was just to add a little urgency. Harry had a record and had served time. What attracted you there, Harry?

Not been a man round there for years, has there? Then she gets all prudish and disgusted. I laughed with him. As long as I got what I wanted out of it. I explained to Harry how our new partnership would work and exactly what I wanted from him. He chuckled as I explained my plan. He was still chuckling as I left. Betty must have been looking out for my car because the front door was open before I got to it. Her anxious face searched mine for signs of hope. I looked suitably serious and walked past her into the lounge.

She followed and collapsed into her armchair. Years of interviewing suspects had taught me all about how to gain and keep control of an interview so I remained standing, looming over Betty as she sat anxiously in her chair. What did he say? Will I have to go to Court? Will I lose the house? Now we knew who was giving the orders. I walked over to the display cabinet where Betty kept wine glasses.

I pulled a bottle of sherry from the bag I had collected from home and poured us both a large glass. With a look of distaste she raised the glass and drained the contents. Her face screwed up as she swallowed. Betty now had the equivalent of a treble vodka and a single sweet sherry inside her — and on an empty stomach too.

I waited for her to stop spluttering before I continued. I was surprised that the alcohol was taking effect so fast but then I remembered how fuzzy she had got after one glass of wine last Xmas Day.

She had no tolerance for alcohol at all. Women who owe money try that all the time. I saw lots of cases when I was in the force. I saw her misery deepen as I stamped that little spark of hope out.

I asked and asked……. He comes round every week and you pay half the amount….. She would have to appear to go along with his suggestion. I would phone him I told her that the agent was waiting for her decision even now and get him to come round as soon as possible.

I showed Betty the small digital voice recorder I had brought from home. Betty was horrified — photographs!!! I explained that photographic proof was needed too. By now she was too defeated and squiffy to think straight anyway. She had only herself to blame for this situation and if the solution went against all her upbringing and morals — what choice did she have?

I picked up the phone and dialled. My mother-in-law agrees with your terms. Knowing her lack of tolerance for alcohol I knew that she must, by now, be fairly inebriated. By the time the doorbell rang she was finding it hard to focus and was obviously dreading what was to come.

I ushered Harry in. I was curt and businesslike. This, I had told my subdued mother-in-law earlier, was where we got Harry on record demanding sex with menaces. Maybe a tit-wank now and again. Oh, and a cup of tea afterwards — two sugars! I had been watching Betty flinch as Harry described the sexual acts he was demanding of her.

Mother in law sex slut mature

Yah, I peace. Not success worth men towards court pro sucks. It Link suck, with the dating laaw is…IF it were comparable.

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3 Comments

  1. She picked up the rhythm as quickly as she had before. Then those big white knickers were clear of her cunt and I could get my first good close-up look at it. Business was obviously good.

  2. From now on my Mother-in-law — that grim-faced, disapproving old prude — was ghoing to be my personal sex-slave and every one of her holes was reserved for my own personal pleasure. Harry was enjoying himself. For a moment I was tempted — but that was a pleasure to be saved for another day.

  3. The cardigan was off now and her big 40E breasts lolled invitingly. Will I lose the house? Even when I had first got married to her daughter I had often fantasised fucking Betty — sometimes I even imagined it as I was fucking my wife — because Betty had been a handsome woman in those days.

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