My Son In Law

The following story is entirely fictional, however, though that may indeed be the case, you shouldn’t believe I haven’t enjoyed similar thoughts along similar lines.

Though I don’t apologise, I warn you now, it may be a little long for some of you…I hope not and for those who do take the time and trouble to read my efforts, I hope you find these thoughts, if not arousing, then at least an enjoyable read.

As always, I will look forward to receiving your comments. All I ask, be they negative or positive, you do please at least keep them constructive.



My name is Cathy, I’m fifty one years of age and thought I would write and tell you about the most wonderful sexual encounter I recently had.

Having reached and surpassed the big “50” It may well be some of you guys consider someone of this age “past their sell by date” . I can assure you, speaking on behalf of women generally, this is rarely the case at all, while speaking from my own, individual standpoint, I have always taken whatever steps necessary to ensure my body remains both in good health and, I like to think, in good shape, taking regular exercise together with a healthy diet. Hence, if I say so myself I still have and still enjoy the ability to turn a guys head.

I’ve have been married to Mike for just over twenty five years. We have three children, two daughters and one son, all of whom have since flown the nest. I suppose my tale indirectly concerns one of my daughters, the youngest, Tanya.

She is twenty three and is married to Andy, who at thirty five is a good deal older than her. The two of them often visit usually together though it’s not unusual for one or other to call round on their own. One such occasion happened a couple of weeks ago.

It was just a few days after new year and Mike still had a few days before he was due to return back to work. We’d been out doing a spot of shopping during the day and having returned I’d cooked something to eat where, throughout the preparation and indeed, for the rest of that afternoon the two of us had consumed a fair bit to drink.

At around six o’clock Andy had unexpectedly called round explaining my daughter was on a late duty that day and not wanting to stay in on his own, decided he’d call over for some company. Mike and I offered him a drink, topping our own glasses once more as we did.

The rest of the evening was spent watching t.v.chatting and drinking until around nine o’clock, having consumed more than his fair share of alcohol that day, Mike fell asleep on the sofa leaving just Andy and myself to chat.

Now I should tell you, the difference in age between Andy and my daughter is not so different to that between Andy and myself. What’s more, if I’m honest, from the day we were first introduced I’ve always had quite a fancy for him. Not that I’d ever tried anything on with him, or for that matter, him with me, after all he was married to my daughter now.

Anyway, be that as it may, as we chatted with one another, with Mike sound asleep on the sofa, I felt myself being drawn to him once more, partly, as I’ve explained, because I found him appealing anyway, but moreso because, though far from drunk, I’d consumed a good deal of alcohol and was most certainly a little merry.

A short while later as Andy was pouring himself another beer, he spilt some of the drink down his shirt, getting it more than a little wet. I immediately suggested he remove so I could rinse it out and prevent a stain and having removed it, told him to go upstairs and grab one of Mike’s to wear, an idea he was happy to agree to.

As I went into the kitchen in order to rinse the stain out under the tap, he disappeared upstairs.

I’d finished rinsing out the shirt and had looked in on Mike who was still fast asleep on the sofa, when Andy called out from upstairs wanting to know which shirt he should wear?

I made my way upstairs and entering the bedroom saw him searching through the wardrobe. His back was towards me, still bared and for reasons I can’t explain, just the sight of his toned, muscular body sent shivers running up and down my spine. To this day I don’t really know what came over me but the sight of him stood there caused an irresistible urge to run my hands over his body.

I stepped up behind him as he asked me again which shirt he could put on.
Ignoring his question I ran my hands over his lower back, feeling his body tense as my fingers smoothed their way over his warm flesh, upwards towards his shoulders.

“Hmmm! Why hide a hunky body like this with a shirt?” I replied.

Again I felt his body tense, the cause I believed to be as much to do with my suggestive words as it was my fingers soothing over his shoulders.

Even now, looking back I have no idea where I got the courage to do such a thing. The reality was, other than kisses on birthdays, Xmas and the New Year I’d never been sexual with him before. I can only put it down to the quantity of drink I’d consumed, that and the dormant desire of attraction I knew existed. In any event, while a part of me knew what I was doing was wrong, right then nothing else seemed important. I couldn’t describe how good it felt running my hands over the warmth of his muscular body.

For several moments Andy stood there in complete silence as my fingers gently rubbed and massaged their way over his shoulders. It felt so good, the heat of his body against my fingers and even now I remember having to firmly resist the very real temptation to lean close and kiss my way up and down his back.

He was still tense, my fingers could sense that and I suspected it was going through his mind the sensible thing to do would be to put a stop to this once and for all. However, the truth was, for a long time now I’d suspected he’d had desires for me and I was almost certain it was these thoughts were causing him conflict, preventing him from simply stepping away.

With me now caressing and stroking my fingers over his back and shoulders, the atmosphere in the room had changed. Instead of the light revelry which had existed doownstairs it was now thick with a sexual tension and as much as it was turning me on I knew, for the time being at least, I needed to lighten things.

I slid my hands from his shoulders down to his waist.

“Hmmm! How about I take this opportunity to see if you’re ticklish?” I told him. With that I started to tease my fingers over his waist, tickling him.

He reacted straight away, his body clearly sensitive to my touch. Spurred on, I increased my efforts and this time, laughing and wriggling beneath my attack he doubled up falling backwards onto the bed. As he did, so he grabbed a hold of my wrists, his momentum taking me along with him.

Again, being older and supposedly wiser I should, at the very least, have seen sense and climbed off the bed but in my tipsy and yes, aroused state I found the simple act of lying between his legs as I tickled him a real turn. Instead I continued to press home my advantage.

“Cathy! Stop it! Please! Or else!”

“Or else what?” I responded, more than a little pleased my small, five foot three frame had complete control over this six foot hunk.

“Or else I’ll start tickling you, that’s what.” He replied.

“No, no. That’s not in the rules.” I argued.

“Rules, what rules?” he asked.

“My rules of course,”

“Well rules are made to be broken, so tell me why should I take any notice?”

I thought for a moment knowing full well I didn’t have an appropriate answer.

“Because I said so, that’s why.”

By way of response he moved his hands down and squeezed my buttocks over my skirt.

“Now now Andy, what did I just say?”

“You said no tickling? I’m not tickling you.”

“Oh! Then what are you doing?” I asked as he squeezed my bum again.

“Isn’t that obvious, I’m just having myself a good feel of this sexy little bum of yours,” he replied.

His words sent a shiver up and down my spine. It was the first time he’d ever paid me a sexual compliment and it felt good coming from him. His strong hands on my bum felt even better.

I wriggled myself back against his hands. It was my way, without actually voicing the words, of indicating he should continue. My hands were still on his waist but by now my fingers were stroking over his flesh rather than tickling.

We remained in that position for some moments, the two of us looking into one another’s eyes, him squeezing my buttocks, me stroking his waist, occasionally wriggling my body. The more I did, the more I knew I was getting him aroused for I could feel something hard beginning to press against me and the very thought I was getting him aroused was turning me on all the more

I leant forward, any ideas of tickling him long since forgotten. Our eyes remained locked, still neither one of us saying a word. Our faces now, no more than inches apart. The earlier sexual tension when we were stood by the wardrobe had increased tenfold, filling the room. I looked down at his lips. Lips that were so inviting.

I was reminded of a time when I’d once walked in on my daughter and Andy having sex.

Walked in is maybe a little too descriptive. Their door had been part open and I’d caught sight of their reflection in the bedroom mirror. They were in bed, their bodies partly covered by a sheet. Even so, from their positions it was clear Andy was taking my daughter from behind.

It was of course a private moment and I should have turned and walked away but for some moments I’d stood there captivated by the movement of their bodies, more particularly Andy’s who was rhythmically thrusting in and out. My daughters cries and grunts of pleasure, which had excited me most, were muffled by the fact her face was pressed down into the pillow.

Unseen I had stood by the door and watched. It had struck me as carnal, almost animal like, especially so when Andy had started to grunt as his pace had increased

Then I had watched as he’d grabbed at her hair, pulling her head back violently before mashing his lips over hers where he’d finally bought my daughter to what I can only describe as a violent orgasm.

I hadn’t stayed to watch any more. I had turned and left but for the rest of that day and indeed for some time to come the moment had stayed with me leaving me wistfully fantasising how it might be to have Andy take me that same way, roughly, holding me, kissing me as he ploughed himself deep into my body.

Now here I was, my lips inches from his, aware at the very least, if nothing else, this might at least be my chance to find out how well he kissed. Moments later, unable to resist the thoughts filling my head I pressed my lips down onto his.

His lips felt moist, fleshy, warm. I had no idea if he’d accept this. If he’d react and pull away. All I knew for sure was, I kept thinking of Mike, lying downstairs on the sofa, asleep. Never before had I done anything like this.

Our marriage was strong…happy and these thoughts filled me with guilt yet as bad as I felt, the truth was, I couldn’t remember a time feeling this good about a kiss. Sure, it was wrong. I knew as much but the reality was, it felt so erotic.

It seemed as if we’d been kissing for an age, though I suspect it had been no more than a few seconds before Andy finally pulled away.

“Christ Cathy! Mike’s downstairs.” He argued.

“He’s fast asleep.” I countered quickly.

“He could wake.”

“He could but he won’t. You know as well as I do with all he’s had to drink he’s out for the count. Now be quiet and kiss me,” I ordered, shocking myself at how bold I sounded.” This wasn’t me at all but the truth was, I had finally sampled those lips of his and right then I wanted more.

I leant in close, wondering if he’d respond once more or if he’d see sense and pull away. He responded, way better than I had imagined for this time when our lips met his tongue began probing suggestively, too and fro over my lips.

Wanting more and sensing he did too, I willingly opened my mouth to allow his warm, slippery tongue to slip between my lips.

I sucked gently on it at first, enjoying it’s feel, allowing him to probe deeper, loving the sensation of its slippery texture as he explored the inside my mouth.

His hands slid down the side of my body then further down, his fingers tugging at the hem of my skirt, easing it upwards over my thighs.

Again I didn’t need to be told I should never be allowing this to happen but all the while his fingers busied themselves, brushing lightly over my thighs his touch felt so sensual and I found it increasingly harder to resist.