Mother-in-law's ultimatum

My wife went on a business trip for a whole week, and I, like any normal guy with fantasies, decided not to waste time. You only live once, I thought, and dialed an escort service. I ordered a transsexual – tall, with ample breasts and a hard cock, who promised to use it as I desired. She arrived in the evening, in a short dress, with lipstick on her lips and a mysterious smile. We didn't waste time on conversation: I dragged her into the bedroom, tore off her clothes, and plunged into this forbidden world. Her skin was smooth as silk, and when she straddled me, driving her cock into my ass, I moaned from a mix of pain and pleasure. I fucked her

in return, digging my fingers into her buttocks, and we rolled around the bed like animals in heat. Sweat poured down, the smell of sex filled the room – salty, musky, arousing. I came first, covering her stomach with cum, and she, laughing, made me lick it all up, every drop.

Suddenly, a key turned in the lock. The door swung open, and my mother-in-law burst into the apartment – a stern, plump woman in her sixties, with graying hair and a perpetual expression of disapproval on her face. She had arrived unexpectedly, supposedly to "check on me while I was alone." Frozen in the bedroom doorway, she stared at us: me, naked, with a soiled face, and next to me, a half-naked whore with a dangling cock. Time stopped. The transsexual grabbed her things and bolted, muttering apologies, while I remained sitting on the bed, trying to cover myself with a sheet. My mother-in-law didn't scream or run away. She simply closed the door and came closer, her eyes burning with a strange gleam.

— You bastard, you betrayed my daughter?" she hissed, but there was no rage in her voice, only something predatory. I expected a scandal, a call to my wife, a divorce by morning. But my mother-in-law sat on the edge of the bed, her skirt riding up, revealing full thighs in stockings. "If you don't want my daughter to find out about this, you'll do as I say. The only ass you get to fuck is mine. And when I want it, you'll lick my pussy until I come. Understood?

I thought it was a joke, nonsense from the shock. But she unbuttoned her blouse, showing heavy breasts in a lace bra, and spread her legs. Under her skirt, there were no panties – her pussy, thickly covered with gray hair, was already glistening with wetness. "Come on, son-in-law, show me what your tongue can do." I had no choice. I got on my knees, burying my face in her crotch. The smell was strong – a mix of sweat, urine, and female lust, mature, unkempt. I licked greedily, running my tongue over her swollen lips, diving into her clit, which stuck out like a little button. She grabbed my hair, pulling me closer, and moaned hoarsely: "Deeper, bitch, lick me clean!" Her juices ran down my chin, salty and thick. When she came, writhing and squirting into my mouth, I felt broken, yet aroused.

That night began our hellish union. For two years, I was her slave. She would come over in the evenings when my wife wasn't home, or call: "Come over, son-in-law, my ass is waiting." In the apartment, in the kitchen, in the bathroom – everywhere. I fucked her in the ass first thing: her anus was tight, wrinkled, squeezing around my cock like a vise. I pounded her doggy style, slapping her fat buttocks until she squealed from pain and pleasure. "Fuck me harder, don't spare the old whore!" she commanded, and I slammed into her, feeling her body shake. Cum filled her ass, leaking out in hot streams, and only then would I move on to eating her out. I licked her heated pussy, soaked with sweat and my seed, bringing her to orgasm with my tongue and fingers. Sometimes the order changed: she made me lick her first, so I'd be wet from her juices, then she'd sit on top, impaling her ass on my cock until she milked me dry.

Sometimes she changed tactics – putting on old lingerie, stockings with garters, and we'd play "mistress and slave." She'd tie me up with a belt and sit on my face, smothering me with her ass, making me lick her anus until I gasped for air. "You're mine, son-in-law, forever," she whispered, coming in my mouth. I hated myself for it, but her body – mature, sweaty, insatiable – sucked me in like quicksand. My wife suspected nothing, and I lived a double life: a normal husband at home and a pervert for my mother-in-law.

Five years have passed since I divorced my wife. The blackmail material vanished long ago, but with my mother-in-law... it all continued. I got used to her ass – soft, greedy, always ready to take me whole. Now I fuck her in the pussy too, when she allows it: entering that warm, wet hole, feeling the walls grip my cock, and we come together, in unison. Sometimes she calls me just because, without coercion, and we fuck.