The rest of the week went quickly. There was no further trysts between them except for the odd stray hand on a waist or arm or the awkward silence. It wasn’t what Bernie had envisaged. She felt rejuvenated with this new found power only a woman would feel. She still went about her daily routine. Making dinner, cleaning and giving out to Cahir. Yes all normal with that little bit of spice added. As for Padraig, it was something quite different. A self loathing had crept into his life. When Niamh did return home, he was sitting up late when she went to bed. He was drinking seven nights a week. Not going into to much detail as it’s a delicate subject, but he started to self harm using kitchen utensils. He couldn’t look at himself in the mirror. How could he? His wife’s mother, and what would happen if it came out, it just wasn’t worth it. He had to tell Bernie no more. His mental health was in a downward spiral. Even his personal hygiene was suffering. Low self esteem and the guilt of shagging his mother in law had left him broken. He’d need to snap out of it for Niamhs sake. After all she was the innocent party in all of this and still needed him. That was it. Enough is enough. Try and forget what happened and move on.
It was Tuesday night and Bernie had rang Niamh. The rest of the family had decided that they were coming down for the weekend. It was Bernies birthday and they were throwing a small do at the home place. Padraig knew it was coming and it filled him with dread. Although he told Bernie that they had to move on and forget what happened, women can be funny at times. But he supposed what could happen? All her family their, she’d be unlikely to try anything. Anyway he wasn’t having any of it. They had a saying in Ireland, it was ” a standing cock has no conscience ” and it was true. While his cock was hard and erect that afternoon and was looking for a hole, the sheer guilt that followed was smothering. Nah, he knew everything would be ok. They’d go to the birthday party, have a few drinks and then go home where he’d wait till Niamh slept and he’d pull himself off into a pair of her knickers thinking about some outlandish scenario, roll over and go to sleep.
It was a slow week for Bernie. The anticipation of all her family coming home gave her a lift. She’d seen what happened to Padraig after there fling and understood his thinking. But she missed that power. She hadn’t had that since she was a young bride and the winner in the town’s beauty contest. But she had had time to ponder and reflect. If nothing was going to happen between herself and Padraig, she would damn make sure he’d know what he was missing. After all she was human and getting on in years, so enjoyed a man, a younger man especially lusting after her. She’d seen her outfit in Laverys window. It would be perfect.
The day of the party arrived. Everyone was there. Niamh and Padraig were last as Padraig decided to neck a few cans before they left so they had to wait on a taxi. It was in full swing when they landed. They were in a couple of minutes before Bernie appeared from the kitchen. “Jaysus mammy, look at you” Niamh said. Indeed look at her Padraig thought. What in the name of fuck was she playing at. He tried to hide his emotions but Bernie could see right through him. He was a mixture of resentment, excitement and yes he would have bulled her there and then. She was playing games. No one else noticed Padraig reaction. Why would they? His head was a mess. But now he only had one thing on his mind. He needed Bernie.
The conversations carried on in the various rooms. The kitchen was a great gathering place and trended to be were the men gathered. Between family and friends there was a bigger crowd there than Padraig thought. After the initial shock of seeing Bernie had subsided, he mingled and started to have the craic. But he still couldn’t believe the way she was dressed. He could only describe it as elegant and classy. Perfect for a woman of her years. The longer evenings were here now. Spring was in the air and she was dressed accordingly. It was a burnt orange floral top. Short sleeved and clinging to her body. Clinging not in a tacky way, no clinging in a classy way. The top came to her hips so you could see her complete lower half. She was wearing beige trousers. Straight leg and slightly flared at the bottom. They were of good quality. A polyester mix. Not the cheap brand, no, the rich well put together type. The type you might see in a company uniform. Smooth and sexy to touch. Like something out of a 70s American drama that Farah Fawcett. He wanted to dip his cock again. The way she looked tonight, he’d put it any hole available. He’d put it up her shitter if it meant him emptying the bag. Yes sir, he’d put it right up there and put the manners in her, she wouldn’t sit for a week. What he wouldn’t give to feel her hole right now. He sipped his can of beer and thought out his next move. It was going to be a interesting evening…