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alt.sex.stories.moderated
OTEC_mother-in-law
OTEC the novel		http://literatemachine.com/node/142
OTEC COPYRIGHT (C) 2007 DAWootan, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED by DAWootan

Vin announced he was going to vacation in northern Finland, in February.
Lady Kathy allowed that he had always been a couple of French fries 
short of a happy meal,
but this was way too much.

Whether by accident or subconscious design, Vin had made
his announcement while Kay was in residence.
She told her daughter, she would go with Vin to keep him out of trouble.

Kay had a two bedroom townhouse, that sat empty, 48 weeks a year.
She traveled the world, she liked Australian lifeguards, Norwegian 
fishermen, Danish woodworkers, and others.
Lately, she had discovered Finish men.

They flew to Helsinki, and rented a five room suite.
Vin had an early flight the next morning, but he always had time for Kay.
Next after Lady Kathy and Beatrice, Kay was able to give Vin most 
incredible sex.

It started almost innocently, and evolved.
Vin had called her mother-in-law, she called him
son-in-law, they enjoyed playing at forbidden pleasures,
that in pre-Lazarus times could have gotten you arrested.
Soon it evolved into mom and son.
They both got considerable enjoyment out of the game,
as they only really had an opportunity to play
four times a year, they never grew tired of it.

"Have you done your homework?"
"Mommy is going to tie you to the cadenza."

"Mom have you been a slut again?"
"I'm going to tie you to the coffee table."

Vin gave up, he could see the light of early-morning he got no sleep 
that night.

His flight north was in an old turboprop that belonged in a museum, it 
had skis instead of wheels.

The flight was met by a snow cat, with tank treads instead of wheels.
The staff was secretly contemptuous of the massive
amount of luggage, the five students brought with them.
Vin had an olive drab day pack he placed on his lap.

The Fins are noted skiers and rifleman, the school combined these two 
attributes,
wintertime cross-country skiing, combined with the finer points of 
wintertime military sniping skills.
The first day in class was all white board and lecture.

That night the snow cat took them into the village, to a combination 
town hall and rustic Ladies Club.

Vin had spent a lifetime chasing the one in a million super Lazarus orgasm.
He had tried seven foot Watusi Women, short women from Ulam Bator and 
everything in between.
The problem was these women were wealthy and lived in the diplomatic 
neighborhoods of their nations,
Lazarus already knew them well.

Vin found a pleasing looking Finish lady, who reminded him, somehow of 
Madame Cathie.
They had to hold onto each other, to prevent falling off the table, the 
petite mall seizure lasted a full
five minutes, it felt like an hour. They were both amazed to find their 
hearts still beating.

The event made the local newspaper, Vin shaking hands with the lady, her 
smiling husband
visible in the background.
Neither of the spoke spoke English, but there was no need,
Vin clearly was to accompany them to their small home.
The husband indicated Vin was to go first, they took turns with her for 
several hours.
Vin was grateful, the man was not a sexual athlete, he needed solid bed 
rest,
shooting started in the morning.

Vin did well in the basic rifle competition, he had selected a rifle 
with a standard trigger,
all of the others used set triggers.
Vin came in first or second in all the exercises.
Then came the event he had been waiting for, images of this in the 
school web page was
what initially attracted him.

The five students were firing on five targets that looked like
children's swing set's, each held a metal gong, suspended
on chains, the gongs had been freshly painted, so you could see
where the soft nosed ammunition impacted. The gongs
had a tape line down the center, they were held to the side
by electromagnets.
The instructor would throw a switch turning off the magnet,
the gone would swing rapidly, the instructor would shout
"left" sometimes he would shout "right", there were two
black dots at the edge of the gong, if the bullet struck
near the black dot the gong would give off a musical tone, and spin.
It was pass fail, you either spun your gong in the correct direction, or 
you did not.
For amusement they walked up to see where the bullets
had struck. Two of the students had good patterns,
along with Vin they had spun correctly, all five times.
Vin did not have a pattern.
Vin was firing thirty caliber ammunition,
in the exact center of both of Vin's black bull's-eyes,
was what appeared to be a single fifty caliber smudge.
The instructors were genuinely slack-jawed, they had
seen this once before, from a member of the Finnish Olympic rifle team.

That night Vin went directly to bed, he did not sit in the
sauna or drink aquavit, he passed out for fourteen hours.
Vin missed the great storm, which damaged several
roofs in the village and blew down trees.

The wind was still blowing the next morning, visibility was zero.
All of the students stayed indoors, except for Vin.
He dressed carefully, putting on almost the entire contents of his olive 
drab day pack.
Vapor barrier socks, windproof nylon powder pants.
A vapor barrier shirt, with a wool Pendleton shirt to conceal it.
He was wearing surgical gloves, underneath his ski gloves,
he had glacier goggles and an REI hat, and a white silk ski mask.

There was only one instructor on duty, he knew there would be
no students that day, but the honor of the school was at stake.
The school had never canceled due to weather, and it never would.

The other instructors were soon present, dressed like Michelin tire men, 
all in white.
One of them noticed Vin's wool shirt and told him to get into a ski parka.
Vin replied that when he got cold, they would all be able to return.
Knowing looks were exchanged.
They set out on skis, the instructors having proper
ski mountaineering equipment, Vin had short fat metal
boards, halfway between skis and snowshoes.

They skied approximately one kilometer, they were
roped together like mountain climbers, there was
no visibility.
Presently, they came to an enormous snowdrift,
the instructors got out shovels and started digging.
It was the ultimate boys club house, and was used as such in the summertime.
Eight by eight timbers had been stacked up making a cave,
which the winter snow had covered completely.

Being snipers, they did not light a lantern, one of them
snapped a chem stick shaking it vigorously
so it gave a phosphorescent green glow.

"For today's exercise we will shoot a Russian sentry."
(Finns always practice at shooting Russians.)
"Today however, water has destroyed the electronics everything will be 
done manually."
( They had removed the batteries. )
The target was a steel knock down, hinged at the bottom
The metal target was heated by a white gas
mountaineering stove, it was warm to the touch.

Vin crawled to the mouth of the tunnel, they had placed
a thermal scope over the end of his rifle scope.
There was 00 visibility, he could barely see to the
end of his own rifle.
He pushed a button, releasing the cryogenics,
cooling the optics, of his antique thermal scope.

There it was, a white cross on a gray background.
Because the computer was "down" Vin did not laser range it.
He began cranking a knob on his rifle scope.

People in the trade refer to them as stadia lines,
two parallel lines that measure distance
from the bottom chest of a deer to the top of its spine.
This is all hokum, everyone knows it is the distance
from a belt buckle to an Adam's apple.

Vin crank on the magnification until his stadia lines
measured the correct amount of target.
He rolled his rifle over, and read off the numbers.
"272" he called out.
Piece of cake he had a 300 meter battlefield zero.
He'd be about thirty millimeter low on aim point.
In real life he would have put one right through
the sentry's heart.
The object here was to knock the target down,
the higher you placed the round the better.
Vin aimed for the top of the head. There was a clang.
Vin crank the empty out, sticking his thumb
in the magazine, making sure it was empty
he lowered the bolt, while holding the trigger back.
He untangled his left arm from the rifle sling.

Vin was accepted as one of them.
They didn't even go look at the target, there was no need.

The Fins are almost Japanese in this way, there is no halfway, your are 
family or you are a stranger.

"How is it you do not feel the cold?"

"I am a Zen Buddhist, hire me as an instructor
I will show you how to conquer the cold,
and make thousand meter rifle shots ... from a moving boat."

They did hire Vin, he was an unpaid instructor,
he visited the school every other year.
He sent the instructors vapor barrier shirts,
with a reminder to hide it under a wool shirt
so no one would suspect.

The problem was stiff necked Finish pride.
There was no way any of them would accept,
an all expense paid trip to Davis Strait.

"Hey, Sergei who do we know who is a wheel in Finland?"

The best rifle shots and their wives in the OTEC Confederation,
were sponsored by their government to go on a
goodwill shooting exchange in Finland.
( An endowment from an anonymous philanthropist had been received. )
Selected members of the Finnish rifle shooting fraternity, and their 
wives were sent by the
Finnish government to Davis Strait.

This was the only time, anyone could remember the
thousand yard being held, the same time as Fleet Week.

The men were put up in the praetorian barracks, they were honored
having feared they would be stuffed in hotel rooms with soft mattresses.

The wives were put in spare bedrooms of the steering committee.
Vin wanted to make sure none of them felt the insanity of
Fleet Week was being forced upon them.

His concerns were well-founded, one of the wives was
devout, concerned about inappropriate touching,
and loose conduct at the Aphrodite club.
They found a Lutheran clergyman, who wore his
Clerical Collar to the room.
The ladies discreetly turned off the forty five minute
musical chime after it went off the third time.
Perhaps they were reading aloud.

There was a definite hierarchy to VIP week,
female VIPs got Vin, Young Leopard, and the
praetorian guards.

Male VIPs got Lady Kathy, Beatrice, Madame Cathie,
Little Sister, and the steering committee.
	 _____

Vin flew back to Helsinki.
Kay was no longer Kay, the registered nurse.
She had returned to school one semester a year.
Kay was now, Ba, Ma, PhD, Md Kay.
Kay was one of the leading students of men on the planet

"Come and fuck Mama son."
Eventually they reached the stage, where talking was appropriate.

Kay had her thighs clamped together, holding Vin on top of her.
"This is your number one fantasy?"
"Yes."
"Tell your mother about it."
Vin began telling what he had not shared with another living person
not even Kathy.

Twice Vin had had the opportunity to have sex
with his mother, but the offer had been subtle
and he had not realized he had an opportunity until years later.
He had carried considerable anger with himself for being
a totally stupid gear head, with no sexual awareness whatsoever.

So he substituted a fantasy, he had a time machine
or a parallel universe. His mother and father
had divorced and remarried at least three times
and had lengthy separations, several other times.
They always got back together, Vin's alcoholic father
was a world-class cocks man, and the poor woman
could not manage without it.
(This was all pre-Lazarus.)

Vin's fantasy: He would visit his mother during
one of these periods of separation.

"You miss him greatly don't you, at least the good sex?"
Her face slowly changed from outrage to acceptance.
"You know, his genetic material is alive and well."
He waited, while her face changed from shock to understanding.
"You have a hysterectomy, and I am free of disease."
Vin's mother sat there, unmoving, she couldn't possibly do anything else.
Vin walked over and held out her hand, she took his fingers he pulled 
her to her feet.
He kissed her tenderly, she returned the kiss, they continued kissing
tenderness turned the passion, passion turned to the soul kissing.

Vin wanted it all he didn't just want sex with the woman,
he wanted her completely, acknowledging, who she was,
who he was, and what she was about to do.
He continued soul kissing her for a very long time,
her body odor began to change subtly, she was trembling.

"You know mom when I was little, you used to undress me."
He led her over to the Ottoman, where he laid on his back holding up one 
foot.
She reached with trembling fingers for his shoe lace.
"Son." she said.
They made love all night, she called in sick to work
the next day, they made love all day, and half the night.

For the next three weeks, they made love constantly.
One day Vin was inside her looking down on her.
"You still want him inside of you?"
"I love him."
"Will you let me take care of it?"
"What do you mean?"
"I will tell him he can come here, you will have sex with him,
but only if he does not say a word, and does exactly what he is told."
They spent the next two days planning and preparing.

They pushed the small round dining room table
out of the way substituting an ironing board.
They had placed a bath towel on the floor, It was
a rental apartment, and they did not wish to ruin the carpet.
It was a small apartment, if you held the door open
you could see the ironing board from outside.
Vin's mom was tied to the ironing board, with neckties,
her vagina, facing the front door a body length away.

They had laughed as they had prepared a quart
of extra runny tapioca and mashed it through a colander.
They had a quart of milky, runny semi-liquid.
Vin made love to his mother, he climaxed almost immediately.
He then picked up the cake decorator and began filling her vagina with 
the runny liquid.

There was a knock at the door, a man stepped through,
his eyes riveted to what he saw on the ironing board.
As agreed, mom began gradually mashing her
vaginal muscles at this point, the tapioca was
steadily dripping out of her womanhood.

"Take off your clothes and sit in that chair, or turn around and leave!"
Vin fucked, his mother, while his father sat and watched.

They took turns fucking his mother until the sun came up.

"So that is your sexual fantasy, to tie your mother
to an ironing board, and fuck her while your father watches?"

"Freud would have given you an entire chapter."
"An honor I suppose." Vin observed dryly

"Well, I can see you're ready, fuck your mother again"
"I am the luckiest mother-in-law and the world."
"I'm the luckiest son-in-law and the world."

"So you wish you had a son instead of a daughter?"
"That's going too far."
"Oh?"
"I wish Kathy was your older sister."
"Now that's a fantasy I can get into."
"You want me to mention it to her?"
"A wise man never interferes, in mother daughter conversations."

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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