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Title: My House My Rules
Keywords: mF, mdom
Author: Caesar

My House My Rules

by Caesar, copyright 2001-2002

$Revision: 1.2 $ $Date: 2002/04/15 14:07:26 $

I could smell the disgusting smell of tobacco in the air.

That fucking bitch!

Slamming the door behind me I rapidly stride through my home to where
I knew the smell originated. Banging on the door, my temper near the
breaking point, I shout, "Open this fucking door right now!"

It opens, much to my surprise.

"Put it out."

"I did when I heard your car pull up." She was still wearing her
black dress and heels, her eyes tear-filled and missing something...?

Her compliance does not still my burning anger, "This is my fucking
house and I hate the smell of smoke!" I was nearly yelling. "If you
want to stay here you will do what I tell you!" My house, my rules.

There it was said. In all the time she had lived with my wife and I,
I always looked for ways to not be around her, to say as little as
possible to her, and effectively ignore her very existence. My wife had always been the peace-maker in our home, the buffer between two
polar opposites. That is no longer the case, much to my great
heartbreak, as only this morning we had buried her remains.

Then I realized that foreign look in Amanda's eyes, the lack of
something that had always been there - her self assurance. And
perhaps a little fear.

She had been my wife's mother after all.

I growled in anger as I spun about and strode to my own room, the
tears rolling down my cheeks even before I slammed the door behind me.


Amanda cooked and cleaned for me those next couple of weeks - saying
little and staying hidden as much as possible. For my part, I ignored
her completely, never saying a single word to her. If she must live
in my home then it was an existence that I preferred.

Immediately after the funeral I tried to dive right back into work -
but it was impossible, my soul was filled with grief and I had the
sense to take more personal time.

This left me about the home - since I ignored my wife and my friend's
as well. I simply wanted to be alone with my grief. Hiding behind
the closed door to our large comfortable home.

That left Amanda - whom acted more of a housekeeper than a
less-than-perfect mother in law that time right after the funeral. I
hated her guts and wanted her to leave as well. I had made my dying
wife a pledge, though her mother knew it not, to care for the elder
woman. She had told me something else at the time, something I had
laughed off as absurd, that her mother loved me and would do anything
for me - we were family after all. Even though the setting for our
conversation was sobering, a critical care ward in the hospital, I
almost laughed at my wife's comment. She forced the pledge from my
lips, as my wife always knew how to use my love to get what she

When you loved a person, it did not matter.

Seated outside in the cool fall air, my steaming mug of tea refilled
every ten minutes by my silent mother in law - I remembered the last
weeks of my wife's life. At one point, just after Amanda had slipped
silently beside me to refill my mug and was just walking away when I
turned to watch her for the first time in weeks. What I saw was not a
irritating old mother in law but a slim shapely ass encased in denim
as it walked away from me.

Quickly, with a rising pool of guilt in my heart, I turned away.


Amanda silently picked up my dirty breakfast plate and turned back to
the kitchen sink. Normally I came to the table, ate the prepared food
and disappeared. Today I sat until my mother in law returned from her
toilet, and ignoring her surprise that I was still seated at the
table, went about her normal morning routine.

I could not help but notice the condition of her old ratty pink
housecoat and said the first words to her since the day I growled at
her after her daughter's funeral, "Why don't you get a new housecoat?"

Amanda stopped half ways to the counter with my dirty plate and slowly
turned, as if she was distrustful of her ears. "Pardon me?" She was
never so polite when her daughter was alive.

"Forget it."

I stood and was going to leave the room when she quickly interrupted
my non-graceful exit, "Please...!" She had rushed over to stand
before me. "Its just a housecoat and no one ever sees me in it."

She had successfully stalled my exit, if she meant too or not, "Well I
see you in it." She only blinked as if I was speaking a different

This was exactly why I wanted to be alone - I had zero patience for
the incompetence in others!

Amanda must have seen my frustration and quietly replied before I
could again make my way out of the room, "Its not in my budget." She
blinked quickly and walked back to the dishwasher and continued in her

My wife's father had passed away years before and his pension checks
were the only income my mother in law had. In fact, I knew my wife had been giving her mom money every month and it had sparked numerous
arguments in the last years.

Amanda's statement, though, sounded much more real than the self-pity
comment I would have not thought her incapable of.

Within five minutes I returned with a cheque and strode up to her as
she was filling the dishwasher with detergent. "Here." She just
looked down at the slip of paper as if not comprehending its meaning.
"Take it and get a new housecoat... and anything else you want." She
reached out for it but her hand quivered as it stopped before touching
it. "I said take it god damn it - get some clothing that won't offend

Amanda finally took it as I immediately turned and strode out of the
room - feeling her questioning surprised glaze on me as I left.


Things didn't exactly change after that - only when I took the effort
to look toward my mother in law, I found her dressed in clothing more
suitable for going out for dinner at a nice restaurant or if we had
guests around the house than her normal every-day attire.

I knew I had something to do with that - the clothing she wore now was
new and I guessed I may have given her the wrong impression the other
day as well as way too much money.

It was weird that she worked hard to impress me, to even care for me
to the extent that put my wife's home making skills to shame. I mean,
in the last three years that Amanda has lived with us, and before my
wife died, I never saw her lift a finger around the house in any sort
of domestic way.

Now she was some type of fucking homemaker or something. Perhaps the
old bat was having a late-life crisis or something!

I put the paper down on my lap and watched Amanda as she opened the
door to the wood burning stove across the room. It was a strange
sight, let me assure you. She wore a white sweater, black knee-length
skirt and black nylons as she squatted facing the fireplace. In her
strange get-up, it was also strange to see her stoke the fire before
adding more wood.

In the dim light, the only electrical light source currently on, was a
small bulb over my shoulder for reading, the shadows seemed to hide
her true person from me. In fact, the woman squatting mere feet
before me looked ageless, the curve of her bottom delicious, the
smallness of her waist perfect, her ankles and heels delicate and her
square shoulders youthful. I must have stared at her this way for
some time before I looked up to see her eyes looking over her shoulder
toward me.

That killed the moment.

Perhaps it was the shadowed light, but I could not read her gaze.


Sick fucking pervert right?

Well, is it any wonder that I go a little numb when looking at a woman
- yes, even my mother in law. Though my wife is in the ground only
weeks, she has been sick nearly the last year and in that time I have
barely had time to be intimate with my own hand let alone the flesh of
a woman.

Its the excuse I sold too myself in fact.

Though, much younger, Amanda was a very attractive woman. It was her
personality that had always grated upon me - not her looks.

I tried hard not to look at my mother in law in that way again - but
that resolve lasted less time than it took you to read this. In fact
the next time she bent over away from me actually.

After that, I tried to look upon the only female form I've admired in
months - the only woman that was in my vicinity - my mother in law.

I think she knew, and possibly felt embarrassment, but she never said
a word or changed a thing about the way she dressed or what she did
about the house.

Maybe it was because I found my eyes wandering to her bottom, legs,
waist or conservative breasts, but it seemed she came around me more
often - finding chores in the same room I dwelled within.

The weakness of gaze disgusted me.


It was the one month anniversary of my wife's death and it was a bad

Started out with shells in my eggs which almost caused me to break
down and cry - luckily Amanda was not in the room at the time. Then
the news carrier forgot my house, not for the first time, on his route
again. I could not find the book I wanted to read in my library. The
phone company called asking about fucking services, and my politeness
quickly disappeared at their demanding tactics. It was raining
fiercely outside so I could not retreat to the sanctuary of the lawn
chair out back.

And to top that off, at only ten in the morning, I stepped into the
shower for my regular daily cleansing when the fucking water turned

I rinsed the soap from my face with freezing water and jumped
immediately from the glass cage. Grabbing a large towel I strode
noisily down the hall to Amanda's bedroom door and slammed on it,
"There is no hot water bitch!"

Practically kicking it open, I saw that it was empty, though very
messy. Amanda had hung wire across the room where her new skirts,
blouses, sweaters and undergarments hung. It looked to be a blizzard
had run through the small room. And after the spotless precision of
the rest of my home, the sight of this disintegrated organization
fuelled my anger even more.

I found her trembling in fear in the basement near the washing
machine. Evidently it had been running a cycle, using up the last of
the hot water in the moderate sized tank. She simply stood there
waiting for my blast of anger and I did not disappoint her.

"You fucking cow! How could you forget that I take a shower every
fucking morning at the same fucking time?"

Though I would never have given her this attribute, she wisely kept
her mouth shut.

I roughly snatched my dirty tee-shirts from between her trembling
white knuckled hands and threw them at her feet. Having never raised
a hand in anger at any other time in my life I could have struck
Amanda at that moment. She cringed away from me as if I was about to
hit her and it shocked and angered me at the same time, enough to
pause my outburst.

Grabbing her thin upper arms in my big hands I shook her roughly, "I
am not going to hit you, you stupid cow! But can't you do a thing
right?" And then the stupid thing to say, "If you want to continue to
live under my roof, you will never make me mad ever again!" Her eyes
were wet with tears but they burned into my own, "And if you can't do
even that right, you might as well get the fuck out right now."

We stood in that strange embrace with dirty clothing about our ankles
before I let her arms go. It only took another second for her to rush
past me, sobbing all the way up the stairs.

My own tears washed from my eyes and I dropped to the cement floor and
bawled like a baby.


After my grief cleansed the anger from my soul I slowly stood up and
returned, as from the ether, to the upper levels of my home. I was
looking for Amanda - not to apologize, as I've never done such a thing
with her, but just to see that I did not hurt her. It was the male
thing to do after all.

I found her behind the closed door to her bedroom.

Without regard to privacy or a single thought that she could use space
for her own grief, I opened the door to her room.

Amanda stood at the foot of her bed, wearing only a black bra, panties and thigh high stockings. It realized that I could see the shade of
her nipples as well as her pubic hair beneath the semi-translucent
fabric but I also realized she was in the middle of packing. A suit
bag was open and she was in the process of shoving all her old garments, nothing that she had purchased with the money I gave her,
into it. I also saw a few of the thinner garments that had been
hanging previously were now torn and ravaged.

She turned at my entrance, with hands at her sides, and sobbed near
silently, her eyes glaring at me in anger and fear. The defiance in
her demeanour reminiscent of the 'old' Amanda - I did not care for it.

A spark of my anger returned at the sight of her packing and the
damage done to some of the things I had come to enjoy upon her person
these last days, "Where the fuck you going?"

My anger dominated her own and any thought of using her shrill voice,
as it sounded when she was angry or drunk, on me subsided. In fact
her eyes lowered to an invisible spot on her messy floor between us.

I could see she wasn't going to say a word and we both knew she was
leaving in anger and that she had no place to go nor the means of
creating a new home for herself. Effectively, without her wife's
husband, she was destitute.

Striding the two steps into her room, I found myself directly before
her. Amanda might have thought I was there to hit her or to again
thrash toward her with my angry voice, but what I did must have froze
her heart - if only for a second.

I wrapped my arms about her and held her defiantly till I felt her own
hands slide around my back and her face press into my shoulder as she
began to sob uncontrollably.


Amanda didn't leave that day.

In fact after the long time we held each other we went our separate
ways and did not see the other for the rest of that terrible day. No
chores were done and I ordered a pizza for myself for supper.

It was the next day that I sought her out. She stood before me
surprised at my calm commanding voice as I ticked off the things I
wanted her to do about the house - number one being no washing till
after lunch. I can't remember how many instructions I gave her but
she agreed to every one, looking very thankful all the while. As if
my ordering her was equal to accepting her in my home.

My next instructions did not roll off my tongue so easily, "As for the
clothing you destroyed yesterday," she swallowed nervously, "I want
you to buy more of the same kind of garments you wore when I
interrupted your packing yesterday." I saw puzzled thoughts and then
the spark of surprise when she realized what I meant. "As well as
outer clothing along the same theme." I prayed she understood, this
was awkward and embarrassing enough as it was. How else could I tell
her I thought she looked wonderful dressed, not as a teenager but, as
a mature sexy woman. It was not meant to mean anything besides my
trying to be nice to the old woman or my desire to look upon a shapely
ass around my home again. And it is not inconceivable that she may
increase her self worth by making herself up each day.

I pushed forwards my hand, in it was a credit card. My wife's'
actually - the mate to my own and a joint account.

Amanda took it with a slight tremble in her hands and then her eyes
returned to my own, as if gauging my words, to see if I was serious.

My hand again pushed forwards, the keys my wife's' Jaguar. Amanda
took longer to take the keys - perhaps reading too much into the


The woman who lived in my home was a stranger to me. No longer was
she the shrill opinionated mature woman who hide behind her daughter and needed the support of her daughter's husband to live - instead she
was the silent, dutiful sexy woman who did all that her daughter's
husband wished.

It was the little things, like her soft smile that, when it appeared,
seemed alien upon her face. When I saw it I told her that she should
smile more, as it complimented her very much so. Now, she seemed to
wear it more than her commonplace thin-lipped expression than not.

In the days that followed I found means to compliment her person, in
the way she dressed and moved. Amanda had certainly replaced her torn
clothing and then some - having generously abused my credit. Where my
compliments lay, she seemed to acquire more clothing for that part of
her person. And my compliments focused primarily upon her legs and
bottom. This did not pass her by either.

My eyes partook her expensively clad legs generously, and any thought
to be gentlemanly to my mother in law was dispelled as it was apparent
she desired my admiring looks as much as I.

She dressed to please me. Amanda spent as much time in my vicinity,
usually doing her chores or attending my wishes, that I knew she
wanted to be near me - to be seen by me.

It brought the first smile to my face in a very long time. Like a
very old wise man smiling at the antics of a child - it was how I was
feeling in my own home.


While the hem of Amanda's skirts rose, and the jeans and slacks all
but disappeared, I began to wonder if my reasoning had been at fault.
As I began to believe her in doing what I desire may not stop at the
boundary of a son in law.

I started to wonder just where her boundaries lay - as I realized this
was more than platonic in her response.

If I had convinced myself that my motives, in the form of my
directives, were pure, her response was far more soiled that I had

Truly this was not the direction I wanted - only to raise an older woman's spirits, to raise her to the level that living in my home
would not be cumbersome.

Did she mean to replace her buried daughter?


I wisely stopped all compliments but the hem of her skirt did not

I tried very hard to read my paper or book and not put it down when
she came into the room, that my admiring looks are not so open. This
being difficult as she looked very fine and I am but a starving man.

Yet when I woke one gray morning to find her soft smiling face and the
short hem of her skirt standing near the edge of my bed I dropped to a
new low. Perhaps I was still half asleep or simply a starving man staring at a banquet for too long.

As Amanda leaned over me to lift my blanket to my chin and to set down
the mug of tea on the low table next to my head, I reached for the
free hand after it had discarded the tea and held it firmly. Our eyes
met and she smiled softly till she felt me place her warmed hand on my
naked chest. Her smile gone, she did not resist as I pushed it down
my nudity, beneath the thick blankets to what lay awake and at

I wrapped her fingers about my hardness and closed my eyes.

It started with small movements, her warm thin hand moving up and down
with barely a centimetre of distance travelled. Then I felt and heard
my mother in law as she knelt on the floor next to my bed, her other
hand lifting my blanket from my naked form so that the chill morning
air caused a brief shiver to run up my spin.

In seconds I swore it was her warm breath I felt on the head of my
raised manhood - and then I imagined I could feel her gaze upon it as
if a physical touch.

All this while her hand moved up and down gently.

The effect was electric. The first hand in months, besides my own,
that has touched me there. Coupled with the half-slumber on my mind I
could not help but enjoy. My hips began to move up and down so as to
get more movement out of her hand. It worked and Amanda stroked me
generously and steadily, with the precision of experience.

It could not have been long - and indeed it felt as if but seconds
since her fingers wrapped about me - when I felt the tightness beneath
my balls and the churning of juices as I prepared to boil over.

Just as I froze in position, gasping and holding my breath as the
summit came upon me I felt warm moist lips wrap about the crown of my
sex. That was it and I released myself, as if I was able to control
it, and jerked and spurted a flood of sperm into the loudly swallowing

My body and mind felt as if it was slowly descending through a thick cloud as I felt slumber returning. Distantly, a smooth warm wet
tongue slid about me, as if searching and cleaning dutifully. Then
the blankets were again raised to my chin and lips kissed my brow as
sleep returned.


It was I who was embarrassed when I finally awoke - hiding in my room
for hours afraid of my actions and how to confront Amanda with the
reality of the morning. Yet it could not be denied that I felt
wonderful upon waking that second time, more refreshed than I could

Eventually I took a deep breath to still my resolve and dressed in
only a robe to descend to lunch. The wonderful smell guided me to the
kitchen and my mother in law.

I sat as quietly as I could and when Amanda saw me, turned and gave me
a wide soft smile before returning to her work. With a sigh of
relief, I realized that was the extent of the feared confrontation.

Then I looked over at the mature woman and admired her as I had tired
hard not to do in days. She wore a tan skirt that ended inches before
the knee, white silk encased her shapely legs and black expensive
slippers covered her feet. So engrossed in admiring the lower half of
her that I did not even bother looking above her waist till I found
those legs standing right next to my chair.

Amanda slid the steaming bowl of chowder before me, a small plate of
freshly baked biscuits and a tub of butter. It looked as delicious as
it smelt - yet my attention was focused in another direction.

In those seconds it took for her to place her burdens on the table, my
hand moved nearly unconsciously to the legs I had admired earlier.

Immediately I grasped the inside of her calf about the same time she
had placed the butter on the table. Amanda stood still, staring at
the marble table as if waiting. A quick look up at her face revealed
nothing - she wore neither pleasure or disgust.

There is nothing as sexy, to me, as the feeling of smooth shapely legs
encased in nylon or silk. Amanda's were no disappointment. My big
paw slowly slid upwards, enjoying the intimate touch of her person and
revealing in the primitive touch of a man to a woman for the first
time in oh so long.

Her thighs, beneath the silk, were soft, well shaped by the fabric and
very sexy.

It was when my hand touched the unhindered flesh of her middle thigh,
coming to the end of the stocking, that life returned to that place
between my legs.

Quickly my hand yanked itself from that hot soft inviting flesh and I
leaned into the table to start my lunch, my face crimson with
surprising embarrassment. Still, Amanda stood next to my chair for
nearly another minute before she turned and strode back to the
counter. My eyes raised from my chowder, though, to enjoy the
movement of her bottom beneath that tight skirt.

I knew at that moment that there was no limit for her.


With only the one light left on, over my shoulder to give me enough
light to read by, the rest of the house was dark. It surprised me
when I looked up to find Amanda standing just by the side of my chair
- I had thought her long asleep. And for the first time since that
eventful morning and lunch, I was able to relax my defences. As it
was not her that I was worried about but me - as I had already proven
hours before.

I jerked with surprise and set down my book before I noticed what my
mother in law wore. The mature woman had spent my money well; white
very sheer silk nightgown. So sheer that I could see the lace of her
French cut white panties beneath as well as the elastic white band of
the top of her thigh-high white stockings.

Nothing else but a soft smile and hard nipples.

"Amanda! You surprised me?" I said this after staring boldly at her
near-nudity for nearly a minute.

"I could not sleep and wondered if you would like anything?" The
soft, dare I say it, loving smile boldly looked at me.

Perhaps I had been wrong in only worrying about my own offences?

I took a gaze downwards and noticed that the nightgown had small
discrete buttons down the front - of which, it was unbuttoned to her
navel. Her mature small breasts, low due to age, with small dark
nipples hard and thrusting toward me invitingly took my breath away.
The fabric was so sheer that I could see the wrinkles that her hard
nipples spawned.

She was offering herself to me that was obvious. Standing there
before me, late at night, dressed in clothing meant to reveal and
enhance her ageing body. I saw that her fingernails, newly painted
with red polish, lightly scratched upon each outer thigh. Amanda was,
much to my surprise, very excited!

How could this be - has she not succumb to my advances only to ward of
being banished?

I looked closer and saw that her breathing was laboured, her shoulders
trembling and most obvious of all the scent of feminine musk in the

First I thought myself a scoundrel for forcing myself upon this woman
while half asleep - then feeling guilty for suggesting she bare her
body in seductive and sexy clothing - now find that she appeared as
anxious for more of my bawdy attentions than even I?

This was my wife's mother for gods sake!

What about that anyway - how did Amanda compare with her attractive

The knees were a little wrinkled, her small breasts sagging, her face
aged, "Turn around slowly Amanda", and her bottom no longer firm.
Wisely she stopped while facing away from me.

Much of my visual inspection of her recently has been upon her legs
and her bottom and now here it lay, within arms reach. The sheer silk
nightgown hid nothing, the skimpy panties ran between the cheeks of
her ass and invoked no mystery. The middle aged ass before me was
mine for only the taking.

So I reached out with my arm and grasped one cheek roughly.

The old lady sighed.

It was not the first ass I've ever fondled - yet it was the eldest.
Nothing spectacular - looking better in expensive skirts than without,
and very soft to the touch.

I squeezed it, pinched it, pulled it from its sibling and generally
toyed with it.

My mind all the while, part of me disappointed that the fantasy of my
starving spirit was not up to my expectations, while another part of
me horrified that I had hated the mere sight of this woman only weeks
before. Could sexual starvation drive my path to such a bawdy
outcome? This was my dead wife's mother that I was feeling up!

I dropped my hand and took another longing look at that ass before
lifting my book and muttering, "Go to bed Amanda."

While I pretended to read, I felt her eyes upon me for some time
before she slowly left the darkened room.

When I knew her to be gone, I dropped my book and took a long deep
sigh. If not for my morning orgasm I may have succumbed to my desires
and used Amanda's ageing body.

I sat for an hour afterwards, looking blankly into the corner of the
dark room.


Amanda served breakfast, much as she has for the last weeks, silently
and perhaps a little submissively. Again I was expecting something,
anything - perhaps a show of emotion - at the denial of her offer. It
was confusing - after thinking her hot for my attentions, the light of
day caused doubt within me.

When she stood clearing my dishes from the table, I again let my hand
reach out to fondle her, covered, ass. Silently she stood and allowed
herself to be mauled by my paw - showing no interest or disgust.
After I let go of her backside she returned to cleaning up the
breakfast dishes.

A couple of hours latter as I stood in the office looking for a new
book to read, she crossed the open doorway. "Amanda?" My attention
was diverted.

Immediately the older woman slipped into the doorway and gave me
patient look, waiting for the reason for my summons.

"Turn around and lift up your skirt." I took a book from the shelf
and opened it to study the brief on the inside cover. When I looked
up Amanda was facing the open doorway with her brown wool skirt about
her waist showing off her white cotton panties. Her legs, today, went
uncovered - and I have to admit, for an older woman, she had very sexy

As casually as if asking for a drink of water I added, "Take your
panties off please."

A short pause before she hooked both thumbs into the elastic waist
then bent over as she pushed them down to her slippered bare feet. In
second she was standing as she had been, facing away from me, holding
her skirt about her waist. At her feet, upon the dark hard wood
floor, the bright clean cotton under garment lay.

There was her naked bottom fully exposed.

Taking a few steps forwards, I grasped one soft cheek in my free hand
and bent down to her opposite ear to whisper, "No more panties Amanda."

Still she did not move or reveal a thing about what may be in her
heart or mind.

"Finish with your day." I almost called her a 'cow', my old hatred
returning with the frustrating questions of her intent.

The skirt dropped and she stepped through the door and down the
hallway without a backward glance. I looked down at the bright white
forgotten panty confused about my obligations to my dead wife, my long
standing hatred of my mother in law and the throbbing between my legs.


The next morning I awoke to the most delightful of sensations - that
of a mouth slowly and lovingly sucking my cock.

Consciousness slowly returned and my hazy mind came to realize who was
doing this thing. For a brief second I considered allowing my anger
to grow so that it would build and I would sit up and stop Amanda.
Yet, the delicious mouth felt so wonderful that any such thought
quickly dispelled with the joy of the moment.

I opened my eyes, eventually, to look down at the top of my mother in
law's curly brown hair as the head slowly moved up and down above my

My blankets were pulled down to my knees and my nudity fully exposed.
Had she enjoyed the sight of me while I slept naked? Was this a
planned event on her part?

God that mouth knew how to suck a man!

Amanda knelt beside the bed, and leaned over me so that at times I
caught sight of her profile as she moved her face up and down.

Looking down, I saw that she wore the same sheer white nightgown as
previously. Her legs were encased in the thigh-high white stocking again. Yet nothing else, no bra or panty - the knowledge caused a
jerk of my dick between her lips and Amanda opened her eyes to look at
me without breaking her rhythm.

With one hand I pushed her hair from her face to see her eyes looking
at me. It was so strange that I have trouble reading this woman that
I've known so many years, but I had no idea what lay in her heart or
mind at that, or any other, moment.

Amanda closed her eyes and accelerated her attentions upon me.

I could see my thickness as it pressed past her red wet lips and
pushed out the cavity of her sucking cheeks. On each upward motion, I
felt her thick smooth tongue fondle the soft head of my manhood -
always ending up pressing into the small hole at the tip.

I sat back and closed my eyes, allowing the pleasure to build within
me and forcing my mind to empty to anything but the hungry mouth
sucking me.

The inevitable was only minutes away!


It took a few minutes for me to return to full consciousness, after
flooding my seed into the hungry mouth, all the while fighting the
urge to return to slumber.

Sitting up I see that Amanda had disappeared, but not before returning
my blanket back up to my waist and closing my bedroom door behind her.

Donning my robe, I stroll down the hallway to the doorway to her room.
Though it may be closed, it seemed like such a minor indiscretion, at
this point, to ignore her privacy and simply open it.

It slid open silently and it only took a millisecond to find her in
her messy room.

There seated on the hard wood chair, the only chair in the room by the
way, by the doorway to her private bathroom. She wore only the white
thigh-high stockings and nothing else. One heel, the closest to me,
was on the edge of her seat while the other was wide spread away from
the other. Her head lay back against the wall and her eyes were
tightly closed - causing her wrinkled ageing face to appear almost

What she was doing was not funny - Amanda was masturbating.

One of her small hands held a breast, a thumb and forefinger rolling
her hard pointy nipple aggressively. The other was down between her
spread thighs but it could be seen to be moving.

Though in profile, so that very little was revealed, she looked
deliciously raw and very sexy.

I became aware of the sound of her deep raspy breathing and the liquid
bawdy sounds of the hidden sex between her legs. She was very wet, if
I could use her daughters remembered erotic sounds as a gauge to her

It felt strange thinking about my wife at that moment - though I had
never seen her masturbate in all our time together.

I have no idea how long I stood in the doorway watching my mother in
law play with herself, but it had to be several minutes at least. It
was a delicious sight and one that caused my tired manhood to awake.
Amanda, on the other hand, was becoming more agitated - the soft skin
about her stomach rolling with exertion, the sweat causing her body to
shine in the morning light, the flexing and rolling of the toes of her
raised foot. It was obvious that her own summit was approaching.

Stepping out of the doorway, as quietly as I could, I retreated down
the hallway to the kitchen, leaving the door open so she would know
that she had a witness to her self pleasure.


The sight that I had witnessed resolved any questions I may have about
Amanda's interest in me - if it had been necessary desperation or
genuine lust. The sound of her pleasure as well as the scent of her
juices - a bit sharper than her daughters had been - was ingrained
into my consciousness.

Amanda came down to fix breakfast and looked rather embarrassed to
find me at the table smiling silently and staring at her in amusement.
She turned pale of face as she attempted to create French Toast with
maple syrup. She had worn a rather conservative ankle length skirt
and thick sweater. Yet the skirt could not hide the sexy curves of
her ass and legs.

When she set the plate before me, I took her hand in my strong paw and
held her firmly next to me, not that I think she was going anywhere.
Amanda could not meet my eyes, but turned her pale face toward me.

"Maybe you should leave the door open to your room from now on Amanda?
I would hate to miss another show!"

As soon as I let go of her hand she spun and retreated to the counter
and away from me. I chucked to myself at her humiliation - feeling
the new limits to our relationship... none.


Amanda made herself scarce around the house for the next couple of
days - specifically spending long hours in the corner of the basement,
pretending to do laundry.

And since that morning, the door to her room has not been closed.

I stood in her doorway watching my ageing mother in law sleep a couple
of times, as I often go to bed long after she has, and once I stood
watching her undress from her day clothing to her skimpy nightgown -
all the while white face and shivering in embarrassment the whole

Yet, her ability to anticipate the times I passed the doorway to her
room, planned or not on my part, ensured that I saw little of anything
that greatly excited me.

That had to change.

Hanging up a pair of white thigh-high stockings over the mirror to her
dresser, wet from being hand washed in her private bathroom sink. As
I stood in the doorway to her room and spoke up, she jumped in


She stood still, facing me with a single dripping stocking in her
hand, looking rather startled - like a deer in the headlights. After
supper I had disappeared to watch a couple of hours of television and
when it was the normal time that I go to the office and read till an
hour or two after midnight. I had come up to the doorway to her room
just before going to the office.

"Before you go to bed tonight, I would like you to come to the office

She nodded after a lengthy pause. The last time we had crossed paths
in my office, she had left her panties upon my floor.

I slowly looked down to see that the white stocking in her hand was
most probably what Amanda had worn today - her bare legs and feet
stuck out of her knee-length brown skirt. Of course she saw my
leering gaze.

As I spun about to leave, confident that she would do as I ask,
dominant bravado overtook my senses and I turned back toward her.
"And Amanda... since you will be doing what you did to wake me up the
other morning, I would like you to wear the same 'uniform'."

Before I saw her reaction, I resumed my retreat to my office a stupid
confident smile upon my face.


Amanda, my mother in law, slid through my brightly light office
without a sound and only a faint scent of her vanilla perfume.

I didn't even pretend to read, and my book stood on the low table next
to my easy chair. Amanda stopped when she stood before me, hands at
her side and face set into an incomprehensible mask.

Openly I took in the revealed aged body beneath the sheer white
nightgown - with only a lace pair of thigh-high stockings as
undergarments. Even as I looked, her nipples tightened and thrust
proudly from her old breasts - so unlike her daughters bountiful
chest. Downwards to the dark bush between her thighs, looking like
she never trimmed its naturally curly triangle jungle - again, unlike
her daughter.

When I looked up to her face, I saw that she was looking at the throw
pillow upon the hardwood floor at my feet. She glanced toward me and
caught me staring at her, her mature face took on a look of near
virginal embarrassment.

"On your knees." Spoken so softly that it came out as barely a
whisper in the quiet room - yet she had heard it like a clap of

Quickly and awkwardly she rushed to her knees, kneeling upon the throw
pillow and staring toward me near-anxiously. Her breathing was coming
in long deep gulps and this close I could see the random quivering hit
upon different parts of her revealed skin.

I've anticipated this moment so very much - controlling the woman to
extract what I have already enjoyed from her - demanding the same but
under my conditions. Spreading my knees, my old red bathrobe slipped
off either of my hairy legs and I was revealed to the waist.

Amanda's eyes slide down to my groin and did not blink or move from
that destination.

Pausing only a lengthy moment, she finally laid both her cool palms
upon my hairy knees and slowly leaned in.

Amanda licked at my soft member till it rose to its proud height, then
she closed her eyes, opened her mouth and engulfed me.

Let me not bore you with the long time that my mother in law made slow
passionate oral love to my manhood - but know that she used her mouth
and two hands to ensure my pleasure, when it came, was exquisite.

The three husbands, the last younger than her daughter, had evidently
taught this woman to use her mouth like none that I've ever felt or

As she sucked, licked and kissed me, I played with her brown curly
hair - holding it from her busy face, so that I may watch an artist at

Even as the inevitable orgasm drained from my body, I saw her throat
gulp down the tribute hungrily. Amanda did not lift her face from my
lap until I had shrunk to an embarrassingly small exhausted size. And
then she allowed my pleasured appendage to slip from her wet lips and
slap down upon my sweaty thighs and balls. Thinking the encounter
finished, I was surprised when she leaned in, eyes still shut, and
licked the abundant saliva from my soft shaft - as if searching for
only one more drop of my nectar.


It took my firm handful of her thick hair to lift her from my
exhausted dick.

Finally, still holding her hair in hand, Amanda's eyes opened and we
shared a knowing content look. Her position, of subjugation to my
desires, was not only accepted but gave her what she felt she needed -
all that in a single shared gaze.

"Stand up." I let go of her hair and she rushed, with less fumbling
this time, to stand before me, between my spread knees. The quivering
I saw earlier was more violent now and even through her white sheer
nightgown I could see her sticky wet soft thighs.

As the nightgown only went to a few inches above her knee, it took
little effort to slip my hand, palm upwards, beneath her garment and
between her knees.

There was no resistance, though I did not expect any, but her soft
nylon covered thighs hindered my path past the edge of her elastic
edge of her stocking. I grasped the side of her leg and revelled in
the warm moist nylon, so unlike her daughters meaty thighs that its
odd that I even thought of my dead wife at such a time.

I did not even look up, "Spread your legs Amanda." Quickly she stood
to either side of the cushion, directly upon the hard wood floor, on
her white nylon covered feet. The inside of her sticky thighs
quivered in anticipation.

My hand slide up past the edge of the stiff elastic band of the
stocking to the hot wet soft flesh above. Like there was thick slippery oil applied to her hot flesh, my hand accelerated the last
inches till it slipped upwards till it held a hot wet hairy woman in
my palm.

Amanda sighed and bent her knees outwards, to open the valley between
her legs for me.

I looked upwards to see that my mother in laws eyes were closed, her
mouth open and her tongue comically hanging out the corner of her
lips. The old woman was really getting off on this shit!

Bending my two middle fingers, slipping them effortlessly into the
slick smooth channel beneath the jungle, they were suddenly swallowed
into Amanda's body.

Even as the heel of my hand hit the top of her slit, and my two middle
fingers disappeared to the third knuckle inside my wife's mother,
Amanda loudly sighed, froze every muscle in her body and then let out
a long high pitched screech.

The old bat just came on my hand!

The hidden secret feminine muscles clenched so that the feeling
brought a smile to my face - just like her daughters. A wash of fluid
came out of her so that my hand was drenched to the wrist. Her body
was suddenly jerking in waves and looked like it was about to topple

Yanking my hand from between her legs I reached out and pulled her to
my naked lap by grasping her soft hips. Her body jerked and quivered
- slowing down but leaving her a mass of flesh upon my person.

Her head tilted back and my lips found hers - I tasted myself upon her
tongue as I devoured her orally.

Later, when I took my mouth from her ravaged wet red lips and opened
my eyes - I saw her surprised but thrilled gaze look up at me with
nothing less than total love.


Sending her to her own bed that night was rough - I wanted to feel her
warm soft body next to my own, I wanted her available female charms to
only be an arms reach away from me.

I tasted her juice from my slick hand after she disappeared - and
groaned with the memory of my own wife.

They were so alike and yet so different.

A huge breakfast awaited me next morning and Amanda wore the shortest
skirt and the sheerest blouse and stayed near me as much as possible
throughout the meal. Completely available, and anxious for attention
- the message was obvious.

I'll admit, I enjoyed the attention.

As a fifty-something year-old woman was no teen hard-body, she was
indeed sexy, available and brought back fond memories of a healthy

There was something about Amanda that did not remind me about her
daughter - that was her submission.

"I'd like you to go shopping for me today...?" Amanda quickly came
over to stand obediently before me smiling and nodding in agreement.
"After lunch I am going to sit in the living room and you are going to
wear absolutely nothing as you lay on the table", she licked her lips
anxiously and nodded her head dumbly, "legs spread... and use the
dildo you are going to buy to bring yourself off."

A little of her smile disappeared - but only for a brief moment before
it returned, as strong as before. "I would love too!" She meant it.

I gave one more command that did even cause her to bat an eyelash.

The afternoon promised to be fun.


Until I watched Amanda masturbate, the other evening, from her
doorway, I never truly seen a woman in self-passion before. That one
glimpse was enough to mortgage my soul to the devil for me - that and
the willingness of this woman was enough for my desires to surface.

The leather couch was very comfortable but any movement would cause a
rude noise - it was a playful fact that my wife and I enjoyed coupling
in this room if only for the comic factor of movement on the leather.
The low marble table dominated the rectangular space before the couch
and I knew for a fact that it could hold the weight of two people.

Amanda cleared her throat behind me, near the entrance to the room to
announce herself. I did not even turn to watch her - "Come here

My mother in law had spent more of my money evidently - four inch
black slippers that echoed loudly on the hard wood floor, logged her
every advance toward me. She wore a silk pearl coloured kimono that
barely covered her hips but generously covered the rest of her to her
throat. In her hand was a eight inch fat clear dildo that actually
shone in the afternoon light.

She stopped when she stood between my denim covered thighs - hands by
her side but breathing heavily.

"Do all that I ask?"

"Yes sir." Her voice was husky, breathless - and I liked her use of
'sir' toward me.

"Show me."

With her empty hand, she reached before her and pulled a flap of the
kimono to the side revealing her body beneath. My instruction to trim
herself had been taken too literally, as smooth skin shone back at me.
Gone was the jungle and I marvelled that that part of Amanda was

"Loose the kimono."

A quick flick of the slip-knot about her waist and a jerk of her
shoulders, the expensive fabric fell to her heeled clad feet. I
admired my mother in laws small feet in the slipper, and decided to
let her leave the shoes on during her exhibition.

When I looked slowly upwards, admiring every mature inch, I froze when
I came to her neck.

There around her thin wrinkled skin was the very expensive pearl
necklace that I had given my wife for our fifth wedding anniversary.

Memories of my wife bitching about her mothers lack of respect for
privacy hit my soul. The naked woman before me was not my not-so-long
departed wife but wore her jewelry in such an intimate fashion. Anger
began to well up in my heart, overwhelming the lust as I could not
tear my eyes from about Amanda's neck.

"Where did you get that?" My voice must have held such venom, and
Amanda brought her free hand to the necklace as if to protect it from
my new threatening mood. There could be little doubt what 'that' was.

The virgin dildo fell to the hard wood floor but neither of us made
notice of its loss.

"I thought you would like it?" I could hear the fear and anguish in
her voice.

The old cow had invaded my room, gone through her daughters walk-in
closet and searched through her jewelry case. She had invaded what
could not be touched - my wife's favourite things, her life may be
gone but I was far from letting her go!

"Give it to me. Now!"

I held out my hand until the quivering wrinkled paw dropped it into my
palm. Bringing my hand before me, I stared with a weary torn soul at
the necklace, trying hard not to tear up at the fond memories - some
in this very room where I had given it to her - drove into my

Amanda's heels made a terrible racket as she tried to retreat - and
thus, my mind returned the the cow now trying to creep from the room.

"Stop!" It was nearly a shout and the old woman did just as I

"Get your fucking ass back here!" No mistaking the anger and danger
in my voice now - but the old cow had little choice.

She stood before me, hands folded before her - hiding those teenage
loins from my heartless eyes.

"Touch another thing of my wife's and...", I remembered the promise
she had made me give her upon her death bed, "... and your fucking out
of here!"

A long and very awkward pause before Amanda tried to explain, "I did
not mean to...!"

"Shut the fuck up cow!" My shout echoed off the walls of the high
ceiling room.

The sight of her made me sick, my lust of her body embarrassed me,
shamed the memory of my wife. They were so different but then there
were things that were so much the same. There was one main
difference, I told myself!

"Turn around and get on your knees cow."

She did, sobbing like a child with tears ruining her mascara - no
matter, I did not have the patience to look at her face again.

"Now get on your knees", which I knew she was very good at, "and bend
over the table!" My voice held little option - but if I had even
thought about it, I knew Amanda would never disobey me - not now, not
after submitting to me thus far.

Just the position she was in, like the last time my wife and I... the
table was so strong, so firm that it took all of our abuse. I had
thought to rape my rage from Amanda's old body, but the memory of my
wife in exactly the same position stole that revenge from me.

I saw the clear unused dildo upon the floor next to the new kimono and
immediately dismissed it, that was for the cow's pleasure not mine -
at least not now.

I felt the hard round pearls in my hand, hurting, as my fist clenched
it so tightly and I opened my paw to look down at the shiny beads
suddenly hating them - hating that they stole my current pleasure
away, hating that they brought so much memories of a fonder time, and
hating that it hurt so much just to look at them.

If the cow wanted them so fucking bad, she could have them!

Leaning forwards I could easily reach the raised bottom, which I used
my free hand to spread.

Sobbing against the marble table, the cow did not even acknowledge my
touch. It only caused any doubt I had to evaporate.

"Hold your ass apart Amanda."

It took some seconds before I even realized she heard me, but slowly
both hands came around to grasp a cheek in each to spread wide. Her
wrinkled small hands were a contrast to her smooth white ass and I
knew it to be the duality of a mature woman's sexuality. I had learnt
much in the last weeks with Amanda.

It was the first sight of her this way, and in happier moments, I
would have devoured it lavishly. Though different in body, including
back sides, both mother and daughter had round sexy bottoms that lead
deep to a wrinkled brown sphincter.

It clenched as if in fear of what was coming.

Heartless I shoved the first two fingers of my free hand into Amanda's
familiar passage and raped her mercilessly with the digits.

Like the submissive cow she is, her body warmed quickly to the
invasion - her sobs disappearing, her breathing becoming rapid with a
familiar erotic tempo, her stomach pressed down into the marble
beneath arching her back and thus pressing out her sex, and of course
the liquid of her pleasure coating my fingers.

I added a third finger to the cow, and shoved it aggressively and
mercilessly - though the old woman was far from asking me for mercy.
Panting with pleasure, she was pressing her hips back to meet my
thrusting digits. The sight was drowning my anger and causing my cock
to harden. The inner lips of her sex clung, as if in fear of loss of
my fingers, to my digits as I dragged them roughly from her body and
that sight was enough to mesmerize me.

Not enough to succumb the purpose of my soul.

With the pearls held my other hand, I slipped the index finger along
the slippery soft thighs till it was coated with the lubricant.
Lifting it between the soft spread globes, I aimed it perfectly toward
the clenching anal ring and, amazing, it seemed to open to accept my

Her body denied me even this revenge, as she was positively buckled
with passion now.

Amanda's ass seemed to suck my finger, clenching and sucking as she
shoved her sex back to meet my other busy hand.

I wanted her to be humiliated, to cry out in anguish at this
indiscretion, this rape of her person! Instead, she was starting to
go wild with lust - enjoying not only the three fingers in her body
but the single one in the other part of her person.

Yanking both hands from her, I sat back and calmed my own breathing -
hating my hard manhood for its weakness - and stared at the feast
before me.

Amanda yanked her cheeks wider apart, when I thought that not
possible, so that the rear hole was level with the rest of her flesh
and not hidden in its usual valley. She relaxed as well as allowed
her back passage to press outwards, easing my work.

She knew what I was doing, had to feel each round hard pearl as it
slipped past her hard anal muscle.

I did not stop until only a few centimetres of the expensive necklace
was visible.

That caused a pause in me and I stared down at the blasphemy of the

My wife would not have ever allowed me to do this to her, befoul her
treasure in such a way, to abuse her body in that place, or even to
sit still as I looked upon her in such an intimate way. They were the
same but different.

My belt quickly opened, as did the buttons to my jeans. I kicked
Amanda's knees together so that the sight was delicious. I yanked her
hands from her ass and threw them back onto the top of the table.

Like I had done it a hundred times, and perhaps I have, just not with
Amanda, I knelt down behind her kneeling form.

One reason my wife and I enjoyed this room, with its leather couch,
and low marble table and bright light was that it was a room made for
many possible sexual positions. One of my favourites being the one
Amanda knelt in.

I looked down at the round white globes before me and saw an obscene
white tail sticking out. It nearly caused a burst of laughter or
perhaps sorrow to escape my lips.

With one hand grasping a soft hip, the thumb pulling a cheek apart so
as to open it enough to gaze down to the root of the white tail, and
the other holding my manhood possessively as I leaned forwards.

My cock sunk effortlessly to the root in my mother in laws body.


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