My Mother in Law and I have been meeting each other downstairs while everyone is asleep

So I don’t know how relationships between non-blood relatives are received here, but this has been going on for a few weeks now and I have no one to tell it to. The thought of sharing my story on the

Internet for you guys to read is making me feel the same way I felt with my MIL downstairs, if anyone knows any NSFW story-swapping subreddits I’d love to share this there too. I think story swapping is a new kink of mine.

Anyway, my wife Kathy and I have been together for nine years. We met in high school our senior year, got married last year, pretty young at that. I’ve always maintained a good relationship with her parents, including her mother Melanie. I used to be afraid of Melanie during high school, but I grew out of that quickly. Melanie is sort of controlling, and sometimes even though her heart is in the right place it can seem like she’s not being helpful, but she’s overall a good person and has helped me out a ton. Melanie also has self esteem issues. She’s afraid of growing old and gets botox and lip injections monthly; she’s kind of bitter about it and is the kind of person who watches the Wendy’s commercials and says, “Well you know she doesn’t eat Wendy’s.” Melanie isn’t huge though. Her body type is similar to Melanie Monroe, the porn star, which is why I named her that. She has meaty thighs and a pretty huge chest.

Before our first encounter, I never connected my MIL to Melanie Monroe.

Two months ago, my wife had a mental breakdown. She has always suffered from anxiety attacks and has gone into bouts of depression, but during her first year of grad school it got much worse. It got to the point where we had to pack up our stuff and drive the twenty hours back to our hometown, where she could live with her parents and see a doctor close to home until she got better.

I’ve been staying with my wife in her parents’ house to keep an eye on her when everyone is at work, and although she’s taking medication and seeing a therapist and feeling better, I’ve been trying to hide my emotions. I left a town that I loved, a job that I loved, to come back to my rinky dink home town. All I do is read books downstairs, I pounded through Les Miserables in about three weeks.

It got to the point where I couldn’t sleep without taking Benadryl or

Melatonin. I started sneaking downstairs to read while Kathy slept, which she either didn’t even know I was doing or didn’t mind. No one else lives in their house, all their kids (3 total) are off at college.

Sometimes I’d be reading on the couch in gym shorts and a shirt and

Melanie would come home from getting drinks with her friends. She works a stressful job with the school district, and is off at eight but usually goes to Applebee’s for drinks. Melanie would come into the kitchen area, which is attached to the living room, and grab a glass of water and say good night to me. I never thought much of it.

Then about two weeks after we moved in, I was reading on the couch again, close to midnight, when Melanie stumbled into the house. I’d never seen her so drunk, she’s usually pretty conservative. We said hello to each other and she walked into the kitchen, but instead of getting a glass of water she grabbed the tequila bottle from the top shelf. I laughed and asked her if her day was that rough. She laughed and said she was calling in sick tomorrow. She poured herself a shot and took it and sucked on the lime. I remember lime juice spilling down the side of her mouth, following the curve of her chin and thought about it running down her freckled cleavage.

“Do you want one?” she asked.

I laughed but thought, fuck it. I don’t work tomorrow. I started to get up but Melanie told me to stay on the couch. She brought the tequila bottle over and sat down beside me. She poured a shot and handed it to me. I took it and grimaced.

“The lime, the lime!” she said. The lime was in her hand. She brought it to my mouth and used the other hand to cradle the back of my head. She brought the lime down but her other hand stayed on my neck. She caressed my hair a bit. We looked at each other for a few seconds but fuck it felt like forever. I felt like I got caught cheating on a test or something.

“Was that good?” she asked softly.

I just nodded.

“More?”

I nodded again. We took a few more shots and talked about her work, whether I was going to start working again, about the stress my current situation was putting me in. Some how, through the mysterious magic of alcohol, the conversation led to sex. I can’t recall which came first, me mentioning Kathy and I hadn’t had sex in almost three months, or Melanie saying her and her husband hadn’t had sex in twice as long; her husband, Kathy’s father, works five days at work, then comes home for five days, and when he’s not working he’s off shooting his rifles at an outdoor range. Melanie joked that his love of rifles compensated for his small dick.

We were talking pretty close at this point, so close I could feel the heat of her breath. Our knees and legs were touching (we were sitting criss-cross apple cause-like on the couch). Melanie then asks me if I ever felt self-conscious of my own cock. She said that, too: “Cock.” I doubt she’d ever used that word in her life. This was a woman who wouldn’t even say “penis”, like it was taboo. At this point I felt a hot ball in my stomach explode and reach my whole body–it was excitement. I was drunk enough to say it wasn’t big but I haven’t had any issues making Kathy come. Then I realized Kathy was Melanie’s daughter and got embarrassed, but Melanie didn’t seem to mind.

“Can I see it?” Melanie asked. I laughed, but I was actually kind of scared. What the fuck was going on? All I wanted to do was read. I asked her why she wanted to see it. We sounded like two kids bargaining over trading cards.

“I’m just curious,” she said. “I’ve only seen one my entire life. I just want to see it.”

Melanie’s hand started at my knee and went up my thigh. My skin erupted in goose bumps and I twitched a bit because I’m ticklish.

When I twitched Melanie removed her hand, but brought it back down, this time harder against my thigh. Her hand disappeared under my gym shorts and her finger tips reached my balls; she cupped them, then moved toward my cock, which was growing.

“Can I see it?” she asked again.

Nervously I nodded and, still sitting, pulled down my shorts. My cock and balls were out in the open. Melanie looked at it and I remember her cocking her head, and suddenly I was afraid she would laugh at me and go back upstairs, realizing my cock would do nothing but waste her time. But instead she grabbed it softly and inspected it with her one hand. She pulled back my foreskin, waved my cock around like a joystick, tilting her head from one side to the other.

She started to rub it, slowly, never going fast. My cock grew slowly, but it never reached full erection. She was looking at my cock the entire time but I’d been looking at her the moment she started touching me. Her eyes met mine and she asked,

“Does that feel good?”

“Yes,” I said, hoarsely. By some grace of God I didn’t blow all over the place.

“It’s nice,” she said. Then she stopped and sighed. “Well, I should get going to bed. Good night, Anthony.”

“Good night,” I croaked.

Melanie smiled and got up. I watched her put the tequila bottle away, wash the shot glass, and pour herself a glass of water, and it felt like a whole year, my body ached the entire time. My shorts were still down, my cock still exposed, still midway to full erection. I heard her footsteps go up the stairs (her wedges on the steps made a distinct sound) and when I heard her bedroom door open and close I got up and went to the bathroom and jerked off. It took like three tugs before I exploded into the toilet. I washed my hands and then my face and said, “What the fuck,” over and over again. I had somewhat regained my cool and quietly went back upstairs. Before I made a right at the top of the stairs to my wife’s bedroom, I stared at Melanie’s bedroom door. I could hear her shower running. I thought of going inside and making a move, sliding into her bed and surprising her (her husband was working). But I knew that we weren’t there yet. If I was patient, maybe.

Like a cartoon I shook my head to get rid of that insane fantasy, and went in to bed with my wife, who takes melatonin to sleep and was out like a rock. But I couldn’t sleep. I got up and went to the bathroom and stayed in there for half an hour. I must’ve masturbated three times in a row. My cock felt sore after.

Melanie and I wouldn’t have another encounter for another three days.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/4gpsv3/my_mother_in_law_and_i_have_been_meeting_each