Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Skiing accidents can fuck you up.  I was with my wife, and decided to
impress her by giving one of the intermediate slopes a try, the one with
moguls.  After falling four times before a third of the way down, I decided
to admit failure, but not entirely.  So I skied to the side of the slope,
which was covered clean level snow, but because of my last bounce, I skied
a bit beyond the side of the slope.  One of my ribs punctured my left lung.
Bad luck.  Well, kind of.

   We were visiting her mother, taking a break from her for the day -
something Janet, my mother-in-law, felt that Stacy needed.  There were only
two days left in our vacation and the doctor wanted me in the hospital for
a week.  Stacy had to work, and had to get away from her mother, so she
flew home.  I was surprised when the door to my hospital room opened the
day after Stacy left.  Janet stepped in with a large blueberry muffin. 
"Steven, can you eat?  Do your arms work well enough?"

   "What are you doing here?" I asked with a smile.

   "Bringing you a muffin."

   "It's only my ribs and my left collarbone.  Well, and my legs."

   Janet nodded.  "How's the rest of you?"

   "Sore all over, but they keep me pretty high.  Drugged up, I mean.  I'm
not in any real pain."

   Janet smiled.  "I just wanted to bring you something.  Do you have
anything else you'd like, anything for tomorrow?"

   "Does that mean you're leaving?"

   "Well, yes.  I assumed you'd want . . ."

   "No, Janet, please don't.  Don't leave me all alone here," I whined with
a smile.  "They're likely to grind me to fodder for the cafeteria food."
Placated and elated, I was desperate for company.  And I had always liked
Janet.  I'd heard the stories from Stacy's childhood and, though I'd never
said so to Stacy, I thought Janet had done damned well with the hand of
cards life had dealt her.  So I told her that, only not in those words. 
There was some backtracking and some stammering but she understood the gist
of it, I think.

   "Are you implying I'm a good mother?" she asked with a wry grin.

   "You've never heard that your whole life, have you?"

   "No, Steven, I haven't."

   "You wouldn't tell me your side of the story and I'm not sure I'd
believe it.  You're, well, that kind of woman."

   Janet shook her head.  "While we're being so open with each other, maybe
now would be a good time to tell you to stop checking me out, at least with
Stacy in the room.  She'll catch you one day, denial or not."

   "We're not going anywhere with this stuff."

   Janet laughed and sat, crossing her thin and legs straightening her
skirt.  Prim and proper.  She was always so bizarrely prim and proper.  She
stared at me and I stared back, both of us smiling.  In my drugged up
state, I could have held the gaze for a half hour but I began to wonder
what she was thinking.  Would this really turn into sex?  It hardly seemed
possible.  And it hardly seemed possible I would be caught.  And, besides,
I knew better.

   Janet nodded, still smiling.  "You're getting hard."

   "It's something about your nose, the space between them."

   Janet's raised her eyebrows.  "Those are my breasts."

   I dropped my gaze to her breasts inadvertently, with every intention of
telling her it was her eyes, but I stayed silent.  "Do you know how I used
to meet women?"

   "I can imagine, but no, I don't know the details."

   "I'd stare at their breasts.  It's hard not to for guys and when a woman
gave me a dirty look, I'd compliment them.  If they were about average or
smaller, I just blurt out, "God, they're beautiful.  I'm sorry.  I just
couldn't help it.  The curve, I mean God.  Sorry.  But, soft.' And if it
was a large-chested woman, I'd say, `Um.  Sorry.  I lost a few second
there. Something reminded me of mom.  Wow.  Awkward.' The second one didn't
work as well."

   Janet's blouse opened and her bra unhooked.

   "Nooo," I moaned.  But I was rock hard and she didn't care.

   She slipped her panties off without removing her skirt.  "This is for
all the times you've joked with Stacy about how I was such an uptight
bitch. It's the only way to keep her in check.  Here, you don't have to
watch if you don't want." She laid her panties over my eyes and I
immediately removed them to see Janet pull up my hospital gown.  She was
smiling back with such devilish glee that I had to watch.  When I saw that
she intended to suck me first, I put panties back.  It went on forever,
with me whining and grunting and begging for more, the drugs making it
impossible for me to cum.

   "Better?" she asked.

   "You could give lessons."

   "Does your cock agree?"

   It twitched and a stream of watery cum oozed out its head.  Janet
laughed.  "I'm not cleaning that up."

   "My mess," I said, dazed and breathing through her panties.  "I'll do
what you want."

   "And how do you know what that is?"

   "I know because I know you.  You want my cum, more than anything else.
Pleasure matters, but what you came here for was to play with my cock until
I got hard enough not to argue, the to sit on me, straddle me, guide me
into that sweet pussy of yours and let me feel it, let me know you." I felt
Janet climb atop the bed as I spoke and kept speaking as she fit the tip of
my penis to her entry.  "You want me to bask in your warmth and you want me
to understand what I've done, what I'm doing." Janet indeed hadn't moved
and I remained hard and twitching within her.  I pulled the panties off my
face and talked as she began to ride me.  "You want me to know I've
betrayed her for you, the one woman that could ruin everything for us.  You
gave her birth and now you're taking back some of what you can, in kind. 
You're fucking the cock of the man she married, you're playing with his
will as an easily solved child's puzzle, and I love it.  But the reward,
the reward and the real reason, is that you want me to pump my cum as
deeply inside you as I can, to have that piece of me swim to your womb and
silently wilt and die, a piece of me that should never be yours, but only
hers.  The power and control you feel, need to feel.  Minutes away." Janet
bucked atop me, feverishly working towards orgasm.  "Your pussy feels so
bitter and angry, clutching my dick with absolute possession." She let out
a moan.  "And when you give it back to Stacy . . .  "

   "Never, never, never."

   "You will.  You will have what you want, my desperate plea to discover
the home I couldn't know with a family I never loved.  Take me and believe
you are a stalwart testament to everything holy and unholy in motherhood.
Be Stacy's mother.  Assert yourself.  Be my lover.  Let my cum seal the
pact.  You have me bound by laws written on stone tables in ancient cities.
Take me with you into the next world so that, on that distant day, when you
lie dying, you will know a part of me is forever yours and you showed that
bitch that you can't be undone by something so vulgar as her dumb youth. 
Fucking crow, you peacock and . . ."

   Janet shuddered and more of her juice ran down onto my groin.  She
panted, poised to steal my need for her from my grasp.  "Give it to me,"
she growled, slowly rocking again.  "Give me my present, my prize, my
conquest."

   "One thing first.  Tell me you know I think you're beautiful."

   Janet froze, staring down into my eyes.  Then, biting her lip against
the sensitivity, she began to buck again.  "Steven, Steven, Steven."

   I lost composure almost immediately.  "You fucking whore, cunt. 
Love!!!!!!!!"

   "That's good, lover.  A piece of you for a piece of me." I stared,
quizzically.  "My affection, dear, not my panties.  I want those back. 
I'll see you tomorrow then?"

   "I'm going to go with what you want," I told her, sinking back into the
bed.  "Mind blowing, Janet.  To die for."