by J.S. Lee
Copyright
© 2018. All rights reserved.
This
is a work of fiction. All characters are 18 or older. No characters are related by blood.
Smashwords Edition
David
hadn't had any alone time lately, not since she had moved in. His mother-in-law, Helen, or Mount Saint
Helens as David referred to her in his head and never out loud, had taken over,
just as David had warned his wife that she would.
Helen
had asked to move in but as usual, it wasn't really asking. She had decided that it would be the best
thing for all of them and before Christie had a chance to tell her step-mother
no, she had arrived on the doorstep.
David had kept his opinion to himself, as he did with almost everything
else that happened recently around the house.
Christie seemed to be enough of a wreck without starting a fight but if
he had dared, he could have told her that Helen would ruin everything.
Of
course, David had his own private thoughts about Helen that made the whole
thing much worse and if he had started down the road toward confession, there
was no telling where it all might lead.
That was what he told himself anyway, after closing the bedroom door and
taking a deep breath. If he started
telling Christie his secrets, he was afraid that something inside him would
just click and it would all spill out, uncontrollably.
He
had at least thirty minutes to himself, the kids would storm through the house
then along with his wife and then the whole, predictable process of the evening
would commence and David had a need that he couldn't
deny another moment, let alone a whole night.
When he had spied his mother-in-law's red, satin and lace panties and
the matching bra on the top of the pile of laundry, David felt the temperature
rise around him. His body quivered and
flushed, the sudden heat inside was a flame and his fingers twitched to get at
them. He had waited like a predator,
slinking down in the shadow, every muscle tensed, ready to spring. David had gone for this long without casting
any suspicion, he wouldn't get caught now.
When
all of their eyes were on the television, he had stolen her red underwear and
in his mind, he told himself that they were whore panties, sufficiently slutty
for all of the dirty daydreams that played out in his head and absolutely no where else.
He
had hidden them in his drawer and now, alone in his bedroom, half undressed
already, he was more than ready. David's
cock was knocking in his boy underwear, straining for the touch of the slinky
panties on his shaft, the intoxicating feel of the
material, so smooth and cool on his body.
It had been so long, far too long since he'd put on panties and David
could swear that it had become a physical need.
Feet
through the holes, he gently guided the satin material up his bare legs. The feel of it, brushing his body on the way
to his hips, made every hair stand at attention. This was exactly what he had been aching for
and once the panties were in place, it was almost as if they had been meant for
him. The satin hugged his body and his
manhood was thumping at the front of the lacy crotch. All that was needed now was the bra, the lace
rubbing against David's hard, swollen nipples was an exquisite torture that
made him moan when he thought about it.
The touch of women's underwear, the smell of it, the silk on his
fingers, rubbing the lace on his face, it had all been tantalizing from the
very beginning.
David
knew that this wasn't all there was to it though and his cheeks burned once the
bra was hooked into place. The underwire
dug into his chest and the cups were too large, considering that he had no real
breasts, but his nipples responded and fluttered when he pressed the fabric
against the pink tips. One or two tugs
at the right moment and he would burst all over in creamy waves.
Even
without the stolen, red whore underwear, thinking of Helen did that to David.
He'd
never wanted it to be this way and when he met Christie, he swore that he was
the luckiest man in the world to get a date and then a second and so it went until he proposed. David only had eyes for her and it wasn't
until the week of the wedding that he crossed paths with Mount Saint Helens and
he felt the ground rumble beneath his feet.
She
was a siren, she should have been a goddess on the silver screen. Helen still
commanded every man's gaze when she entered a room and she must have known that
her son-in-law would follow suit.
Christie swore that her platinum hair came from a bottle and David
didn't care. If he closed one eye, her
walk, her shimmy was more like it, Helen looked like Marilyn Monroe and the
thought traveled straight to his crotch.
It was almost as if her hand were there, opening his zipper and reaching
inside. His mother-in-law's red nails
trailing along his sensitive skin, he lost all control once she came into view.
Unfortunately,
the fact that Helen was an awful bitch made absolutely no difference. Sometimes David thought that the fact that
she was such a slave driver and regarded him as something not quite human made
it even more tempting. Whatever she
thought of him, David was obsessed with her.
He bit his bottom lip as he stared at his reflection in the mirror, the
red underwear that had graced her perfect curves, now wrapped around his
body. When was the last time that he had
thought of Christie when he had an erection?
David couldn't remember but he knew precisely the last time that he'd
masturbated to Helen.
It
had been this morning, in the shower.
Now,
not quite ten hours later, his cock wiggled in the front of the red underwear
and he wet the fabric with precum and began to rub his hand up and down, over
the whore panties. It was divine, the
feel of her panties on him. He had
always liked to cross dress in secret, but this was much worse. David had a crush on his wife's mother, if
Christie knew that, he was sure that she would leave him and rightfully
so. If she knew about the panties and
how he had rooted his face in the crotch, disappointed that there wasn't a
trace of Helen's scent left in the clean material, David didn't have to guess.
He'd
lose her for good and it wouldn't really come as a surprise. David stroked himself with two fingers
through the panties, pressing the liquid and the satin against the back of his
aching dick, how could a panty-wearing faggot like him keep a wife anyway?
David
groaned and spilled a hot droplet of his need into the panties again. They
would be soaked through before he was done and with his left hand he pinched
his nipple, grinding the lace into his body, it hurt
and he couldn't get enough. If Helen
knew, that would be even worse. Helen,
the woman who would burn through his life, given the chance… and if she had any
idea that he was a pansy on top of all his other failures. David shuddered and whispered her name, his
mother-in-law would make him pay for his sins but for some sick, twisted
reason, he couldn't wait for her to dole out his penance.
David
thrust his hips forward and squeezed his cock, just under the head, tugging his
nipple at the same time, just a bit, he wanted to make it last but the thought
of the blonde's delectable pussy in these panties was too much to hold
back. His mouth was open, his tongue was
out, the pleasure coursed through his body and he said her name again, just
above a whisper. “Helen, oh Jesus
Christ, yes, Helen,” he had never fucked her in his imagination, he couldn't
even dream of being allowed.
It
was Helen's voice that made him scream and he hoped that it was all in his
imagination. “I should have known,” she
hadn't made a noise when she'd opened the bedroom door and when he opened his
eyes, David was frozen in place. One
hand stroking his hard-on over her panties, the other hand circling his
nipples, the woman who had inspired it all, smirking at him, “you're a little
freak, aren't you, David?”
She
walked right in, without permission and David couldn't imagine that she'd ever
ask. Helen presumed that she ruled the
house from the beginning and no one had the balls to contradict her. Actually, that wasn't accurate, Helen had
always been the undisputed queen wherever she went, Christie's father had never
questioned her authority and now, so far, David hadn't either. She'd asked him a question that he didn't
have an answer to. “I guess I am,” and
it was painful that she had interrupted him at precisely the moment when he was
on the verge of cumming. The thought of seeing her gloriously naked,
his mother-in-law nude and hovering over him while he based in the sensory
delights of her damp panties sent a shiver down his spine.
David
wanted her so badly, yes, a freak, it probably suited him. “So you like to wear my panties, David? Is that it?
Or do you wear Christie's too?” she had to know the answer, her big,
blue eyes danced with glee. Helen had to
know the power that she wielded, all it took was a glance from her.
David
lowered his eyes, it seemed disrespectful to look at her face and besides,
there was so much to study below. Her
black dress clung to her large breasts, her decolletage
was on display as usual and David fought the urge to kiss his mother-in-law's
bountiful curves as he'd done a thousand times before. Helen had always enjoyed flaunting herself
and he had always fallen for her seduction routine. Her voluptuous body wasn't the end of her
assets and there were so many inches and dips and places that were kept under
wraps that David had only imagined. He
gulped hard, his fingers clamped into fists, he wouldn't grab her no matter how
much he felt the need to. “No, I don't
wear Christie's,” it had never even been a temptation. It was only his mother-in-law's underwear
that brought his secret compulsion to the surface, “just yours. Please don't tell,” he suddenly realized that
Helen could just wait another fifteen minutes and then throw the bedroom door
open. As usual, she had all the power.
She
stepped in closer, brushing David's hair from his forehead with her long, red
nails, her perfume rising from behind her neck, Helen's breath touched David
intimately when she murmured to him. “I
suppose that you fantasize about me in these panties, don't you? Is that what you're doing?” she glanced down
and his face grew even warmer as he watched her look at his cock. It stood and waved at her under the panties,
desperate to get at the blonde beauty that haunted his dreams, “are you
touching yourself and imagining my pussy, David?”
He
quivered when she said the word. How
well she knew him, it was uncanny, it was almost as if Helen could read his
mind actually. David nodded and groaned
as his dick pulsed and dripped, there was a puddle in the crotch of the red,
whore panties now and if she didn't let him cum, he was afraid that he'd just
keep them wet all night long. “Yes,
Helen, I do,” he shook his head, there was no holding back any longer, “I
always think about your pussy when I jag off.”
There,
she knew, nothing else even mattered, whatever Helen did now, David didn't even
care as long as she let him cum. He was
weak in the knees and didn't know how much longer he could stand like this, so
close, almost touching her, exposed and vulnerable, so very hard and yet,
weaker than he'd ever been before. No
one else knew his secret and Helen was the last person on earth that should
know. She would make his life miserable,
David just knew as he watched the corners of her mouth curl up. “What would a panty-wearing sissy like you do
with a real woman, David?” her tone was every bit as sweet as always as she sunk
the knife in. “Tell me, David,” she
pushed his right hand away and covered his erection with her own. His cock thrashed to get at her as she rubbed
him in her panties, “what would you do with a woman, you little faggot?”
His
body was wracked with pleasure and his mother-in-law had his manhood in her
small hand, stroking him up and down in her panties, he was trapped and far too
close to a release. “Oh, Jesus, Helen,”
he shuddered, a flood of precum gushed from his cock as she squeezed him from
root to tip, “please, you're going to make me cum in your hand.”
Helen
chuckled, it was a low, throaty sound and it sounded wicked. The woman was amused at his predicament and
she still wasn't letting go. “That's
awful, David, what are you going to do?” she raised her brows and David could
have swore that she winked. A spasm ran down the back of his legs as she
held him with even more pressure in her palm, “if you cum, David, then I guess
that I'll be forced to tell my daughter that her dear, sweet husband is a
cross-dressing, little homo. What do you
think, David, should I tell?” part of him wanted to choke her, the bitch was
having so much fun.
David
sounded as if he were choking and he almost was. His heart exploded in his chest, each beat
faster and stronger than the last, she was stroking him faster, up and down,
the satin was drenched on the inside and the material was coaxing him, almost
forcing him to burst in her hand. David
threw himself on her mercy, hoping that she actually had some. “Please, don't tell, Helen, I'll do
anything,” he whimpered, no matter what he said, it didn't prevent his body
from shaking and his dick from thumping for more. Another stroke and then maybe one more, David
would gasp and the ecstasy would shoot through his
body, “anything you want,” he whispered, “just don't tell Christie.”
She
was almost kissing him when she came in closer, his mother-in-law's perfect
mounds touched his chest, the red bra burned his flesh as her fingers continued
to torment and delight him. “Well, I
might not have to tell, David,” Helen would leave him with no choice in a
moment and he tried to break free from her hand. All he wanted was for her to finish for him,
“I might keep your secret, sissy, if you do something for me.”
He
nodded quickly, “yes, yes, god, you have to stop.” David didn't even sound convincing when he
begged, the orgasm that he'd had in his own hand this morning, the one that he
splattered all over the shower, had been for Helen. His beautiful temptress, the woman whose
panties he lusted after as well as what was hidden away under the panties, all
he wanted was for his mother-in-law to continue. Exploding in her hand seemed only natural
after all of the times that she'd inspired him to do the same.
“Do
I?” she was only holding his cock now.
The wet satin was wrapped tightly around his erection and her soft,
small fingers clutched his dick, just under his head, squeezing just enough to
keep the rivulet of his precum running, “if you don't cum, then I won't
tell. But that means that tomorrow
afternoon, you will have to do something for me.” She gave him one last pull and David threw
his head back, his body belonged to her and a howl of ecstasy would erupt from
him, “and you have to keep wearing the panties and bra until I say you can take
them off, faggot. Is that understood?”
She
released him and David reached out for the wall
quickly with this left hand to steady himself.
He would have fallen at her feet, as it was, his cock thudded for her
attention in the front of Helen's sopping, wet panties and he nodded, yes he
understood that his mother-in-law now owned him, body and soul. “Yes, I'll wear the underwear,” he would be
locked in satin and lace and every nerve would call out for relief.
The
front door opened and David heard Christie call out
for him, “David, hey honey, I've got groceries, can you help me?” If his wife headed for the bedroom, the jig
was up. It wouldn't matter what deal he
had made with Helen the devil, there was no explanation for his cock right now.
He
called out, “yeah, I'm just changing, I'll be right there.”
Helen
blew him a kiss, “remember, no cumming David and you
can only wear those red panties. If you
break the rules then Christie will have to know everything. I'd hate to see what happens to you if you
break my daughter's heart.”
His
mother-in-law opened the bedroom door and David was torn as she sashayed down
the hall. Part of him wanted nothing but
to rip off the tainted underwear and get back into his boxers. This was his goddamn house after all, since
when did Helen make the fucking rules around here?
He'd
throw her out on her ass.
The
other part of David wanted to finish himself as he watched her walk. Ass jiggling with every step, her heels
clicking down the hall, her calves were a curve that disappeared under the hem
of her dress but his imagination could fill in the
rest of the details. His mother-in-law
had beautiful thighs and he could almost feel her creamy, soft skin under his
fingers. It would only take him seconds.
David
didn't want to take any chances.
Instead, he stuffed his aching dick back into his khakis, threw the polo
on and ran to help Christie with the groceries.
There was no sense in tempting Helen, or fate as the case might be.