Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Mother-in-law - by J.Arthur -

   ***

   My mother in law was quite plain in fact, not to mention more than twice
my age.  She was the type of person that would do anything for anyone. 
There was an inner beauty to this woman that could not be ignored, a
beauty, that came from deep within, that had us lining up to sample the
nectar.  (FM+, rom, cons, oral)

   ***

   This was a story I never intended to tell.  I was going to take it with
me to the grave.  So why have I changed my mind now telling you lot... 
complete strangers?  I suspect to prove love is unconditional, in this case
across a generation gap.  Or was it to ease my conscience at the guilt I
feel at not having done more to rock the boat so her remaining years were
as happy as I believe she deserved.  Unfortunately, she passed away
suddenly, from a heart attack some six months after.

   Every time I think of us together I can't help but smile, getting a warm
feeling inside, plus the bitter disappointment our affair was all to short.
I also believe this was one of my finest hours, though not the success I
had hoped for.

   Having been fortunate in my time to have a number of extra liaisons in
my adult life.  This story is about one of them.

   Today I can't remember the very first time I actually met my future
mother-in-law.  But I do remember vivid images of those early days of her
being surrounded by young grandchildren, clucking around like an old mother
hen as she organised them with one or other visiting daughters.

   My first impression was of an average height and sized woman, with plain
features with curly unruly shortish graying brown hair that didn't need
much work.  Looking similar to a less serious version of the old English
actress Margery Mason, (the old woman pushing the sweets cart on the
'Hogwarts Express' in 'Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire'.)

   When Flora smiled, which to me seemed to be all the time when I was
there, showing her set of old fashion style heavy dentures with their
darker red false flesh colour than we have today.

   The other impression I was aware of was her gentle and quite unobtrusive
nature as she moved around helping organise the visiting grandchildren.

   What was also distinctive about her in those early days was the simple
wraparound printed cotton dress she wore like a uniform by the lower class
English housewife's of the early and mid nineteen hundreds, minus the scarf
over her hair as most used.  Growing out of wearing it as she grew older,
wearing long woolly hand knitted sloppy cardigans that covered right down
over her bum.



   Not that it was anything special, her hips were unremarkable.  I think
what attracted me to her the most was her personality.  Immediately it was
obvious she had an inner strength and resilience radiating from her being
that we remember so well of the millions of women of her generation that
had to withstand the riggers of the blitz bombings of the industrial cities
they were subjected to in those dark days of the early war years.  Then
those trying times of rationing with the short supplies post war, for
almost ten years after, while the world fed the starving people of Europe.

   It would not have helped as her family rented a tenement, not far down
the road from one of the largest engine factories.  Being a prime target
for enemy bombing almost nightly while being forced to bring her second
child into the world 'sired by a home on-leave unknown soldier,' the result
of a "aventure d'un soir" - (one night stand) alone as her husband being
conscripted to the middle east after the outbreak of war in the army.

   It might be prudent to pause here for a moment, to point out to the
reader the attitude and roll of the 'war women', who unselfishly 'gave
their bodies' to their fighting men, home on leave.  I dedicate this story
to their memory.

   As a late war baby myself, I had the opportunity to discuss with some of
my older generation work colleges who had 'served', about the attitude of
the women of the wartime generation at the time.  Their replies were
basically the same.  'Sex was much easier and freer in the war than the
following generations.' Remembering there was no pill so condom's were a
must.  Alcohol seemed to be plentiful - not a good combination.

   So here was my future mother-in-law with two young ones to rear during
the most difficult conditions in the war years, then having to explain to
her returning husband the unexpected addition to their family.  Her eldest
a boy, playing no part in this story as he was old enough to go his own way
and did so when the time came.

   You may well smile, but were not finished with this part of the story.
Their is yet another Fox in the Hen House besides the unknown soldier plus
yours truly.

   I don't know how or where, (as I didn't ask at the time) the 'family'
acquired a 'sugar daddy friend', early in the last year of the war.  He
obviously latched himself to Flora as the family was an easy (subservient)
mark, with my farther-in-law seemingly going along with the situation. 
This person, we will call 'Scrooge', a rich business man, plus owner of a
motorcar 'to go on outings' after being washed, polished and cleaned.

   As a result, Flora's third child was possibly fathered by Scrooge.  The
child today having similar physical characteristics plus a placid smart
nature like Scrooge.  I discussed the general subject with Flora after
learning from her in conversation that her second was the result of the one
night stand.  She was unsure or confused between the second and third.  But
the physical evidence is there to see.

   My wife (the forth and youngest, came along four years after the war)
and was I believe, the product of Flora's husband Bert, as her childhood
photos resemble his forehead rather than Scrooge's features, as he was
still on the scene with his dirty wick, at the time of her conception.  -
Yes, it's better than fiction, maybe that's why it should be told.

   You can see the theme emerging here, like bees to the honey pot. 
Flora's aura attracted men to her as she was no great beauty.  Being
average in body height and weight, her hips were what you would call 'child
bearing' with a straight waist.  Her stomach was not large or protruding
like some, having a hysterectomy before I met her.  Her breasts were around
36D's and droopy but still a hand and mouth full.  Her body was one you
wouldn't give a second glance.  Well maybe the breasts?

   Now to the father-in-law Bert.  He was a skinny as a rake type, shortish
and one of those know-it-all that knows nothing, making you really wonder
how they won the war.  It was a minefield when visiting, trying to dodge
the subjects that could turn explosive and wanting to clobber the dumb fuck
for being so dam dense and stupid.  He was also the type of turd that would
confiscate children's balls who were playing in the street that strayed
into his yard.  I understand he had a draw full, never giving them back.

   All his miserable married life, he drove Flora to her wits end, with his
stupidity and dumb ass nit picking anything and anyone.  Especially on
subjects he knew next to nothing about.  Flora was a bundle of nerves
worrying about what he was going to do next, contributing I believe to her
early demise.

   The only time she came out on top was twelve years after the war. 
Scrooge was still around dipping his wick.  He shouted Flora and himself a
trip out as passengers on a cargo boat.  To see her sister who had
immigrated with her husband previously.  Well his plan worked as he had
Flora to himself for something like seven weeks on the way out plus two
with her sister.

   Well it all blew up in his face as Flora was so taken with her
surroundings plus persuaded by the fact her sister had money to spare
Monday mornings for housekeeping, she refused to go back.  So Scrooge found
himself on the return trip alone with a clean wick.  Well she had paid her
dues.

   It was arranged the family would immigrate as Flora found a place to
live and work close by, Flora could sponsor her family for their passage.

   Now the foundation been laid, let's get on with it?

   I met my wife (the youngest) when she was almost seventeen.  About four
years after they arrived.  I met the father-in-law shortly before his
daughter.  Knowing the daughter had something to do with him, seeing her
every morning in my work capacity.  Making his acquaintance to get an
introduction.

   Within twelve months of that meeting we were married with our first
child on the way.  I always believed (if one was lucky) there would be one
great love in one's life.  I couldn't comprehend second marriages that were
happier than the first.  Today we are still together in our older age.

   Well Flora slipped in under my radar.  I loved that woman from when I
first met her all those years earlier from afar, as I love her daughter. 
In my greatest fantasy of her I see Flora lying in our matrimonial bed on
the other side of my wife and I in a harmonious threesome.

   All those years, Flora and I had very few opportunities to be alone.  In
those days I wasn't forward enough to take advantage of the one or two
opportunities that presented themselves.  The only kiss we shared was on
the cheek saying goodbye.  To make the situation worse, my wife and I moved
away for work, giving us far less opportunity.

   There is one fond memory I cherish in the ensuing years after our second
child.  Of the three of us, Flora, my wife and I one night, when she was
visiting, playing a game of strip poker between the three of us being the
one time we did and I seem to remember it wasn't my idea.

   I distinctly remember cheating though, by wearing two pairs of jocks so
when it was my turn to get them off, I bent over in such a way when
removing the first pair, holding them out shaking them in front of their
faces to distract them crouching in such a way they could not see then
stand up spread eagle, revealing I still wore a pair and not being naked as
they expected.

   Well there were cries of surprise and frustration then I was ganged up
on with my wife holding my arms from behind (I was not putting up much
resistance) while Flora stripped my jocks from my hips.  The closest she
would come to my naked exposed body for a couple more years.  In hind
sight, I wish I had been more forceful, taking both women to bed as I
believed they would have gone along with it with that fantasy of mine
for-filled.

   As I explained it was a couple more years when the next opportunity
presented itself.  Again Flora was visiting on her own.  Flora and I were
alone as the wife was working afternoons.  Flora's husband was arriving in
two days time as they were going off somewhere together.

   I distinctly remember, it was after dinner, the washing up done with the
kids tucked up in bed asleep.  We had a two hour window before my wife
finished work.  I can remember hedging around with her at first, finding
her amenable to my tentative advances, finding myself on the couch with my
head laying in her lap as I fondled the nipples of her breasts through her
dress.

   Our time was running out fast so concentrated on trying to get her
excited without results, then went for broke persuading her to accompany me
into the bedroom.  There we disrobed ourselves climbing onto the double
bed.

   I kissed and cuddled her attempting to get her excited, this time using
both her nipples and clitoris.  You can imagine my disappointment when I
failed to stiffen any of her organs with either fingers or tongue.

   We were right out of time so kissing her passionately long and deep, I
gently eased my body onto hers getting her slippery with my pre-cum fluids
which I leak more than enough for both of us.  I remember she was tight as
I slid in and out slowly getting her slippery as I advanced deeper and
deeper until I bottomed.  Yes, I said bottomed.

   Flora had a hysterectomy years before.  When they sowed what was left of
her back together, she was so tight her husband couldn't get his pecker
inside.  It's not a laughing matter as this resulted in Flora going under
the knife again to open her up.  If she was able to have any feelings down
there before, they were probably severed in the reprocess.

   This to my mind was gross incompetence, as I measure a fraction over six
inches from tip to pubic bone, considering myself 'average'.  So Flora's
vagina had been shortened by the operation abut three inches, without a
thought to Flora having a painful time with a well endowed man.  Probably
cutting more nerves and blood vessels in the process than was necessary.

   I also believe because her nipples and clitoris were not responsive that
Flora never in her life had a 'decent lover' as her 'sex partners' had only
ever looked after themselves and never a thought for her.

   It was bitterly disappointing, I was unable to get Flora excited in any
way shape or form.  We were running out of time.  I had to abandon trying
to get her excited, concentrating on my own climax.  I like to jam in
tight, holding myself in deep as I spurt strong and long.  Well I'm a man.

   I also deliver copious amounts of seminal fluid before and after,
flooding my partner's interior.  They tend not to believe me until I've
proven it to them after the first.

   We cleaned ourselves up plus the bed to look like things were as they
should.  We had no opportunity to talk or touch till the following night.

   With the ice broken, we had more time the second night.  Starting with
kissing and loving I discovered Flora had little idea of French kissing. 
Starting her with simple open mouth kissing.  Unable to stir her senses for
the tell-tail softening of her lips against mine as I do with her daughter.
Plus she wasn't real keen on tonguing, so it was time to move on to serious
oral fun.

   Flora had no qualms about taking my erection into her mouth after
removing her false teeth.  Again she didn't seem to know what to do with it
as I tried in vain licking her vagina and clitoris to stimulate her sexual
excitement towards a climax.

   I must confess she was the first woman I had been with who had a
hysterectomy.  To my surprise she was extremely clean inside.  I can't
remember exactly if she excreted much fluids...  As usual I made up for
more than both of us.

   I remember working on her crutch with my fingers and mouth for some
considerable time to no avail.  I did not press my advantage to climax in
her mouth which I regret as that was to be our last time together.  So I
concentrated on loving her with all my being as I rubbed, kissed, pushed,
and stroked her willing body.

   I had two climaxes that night, both in her vagina on my own as I tried
to transmit the love I felt for her between us.  I can remember her hugging
me tightly in return as I held her in my arms after climaxing in her as she
asked me how many babies I put in her.  My answer was 'twins' as we cuddled
and giggled together.

   Today, so long ago, I'm a little confused, I believe it was the last
session.  I distinctly remember laying on top of Flora buried fully inside,
with my body supported on my elbows taking my weight off her.

   Looking directly into her eyes, I asked her seriously.  "To come and
live with us." I firmly believed, we could make her life more comfortable
than the one she had at present with dick head.  My wife and I had
discussed the subject sometime previously and would ask her if the
opportunity presented itself which it did.  I did not press her, which I've
regretted ever since.  Unfortunately she did not reply to my request going
off with dick head.  I really think she would have worried herself the
other way, if she had made the decision to live with us.  The situation
being a catch twenty two for her.

   Sadly Flora passed away unexpectedly of a heart attack six months later,
at age sixty five.

   I miss you terribly darling...

   Their all gone now, the 'Silent' generation, as life marches on.  It's
the turn of the post war generation, The 'Baby Boomer's', my generation, to
be the senior citizen's.  Then when were gone it will be your turn the 'X'
generation to front up.  Followed by the 'Y' then the 'Z' generations.  I
see dying like masturbation, It's something you mostly do on your own.

   My advice to you is be observant of your partner's needs.  Observe,
experiment how to give your partner a better climax.  Think about it, try
to make it the best she ever had.  Then have yours immediately after when
she will squeeze you the tightest.

   I found if I climax a few seconds before my partner, I could trigger her
climax with mine.  That is extremely hard and risky to achieve.  Mostly I
like to climax my partner first then have mine.  It's less stressful than
trying to climax exactly together.


   *