My Father-in-Law and I

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-23

Note: This is the experience of a female netizen. I have only slightly embellished her original text and published it on her behalf with her consent. To protect the authenticity of the story, it is still written in the first person. Please do not interpret the text literally or pry into the woman's privacy. The main text:

That year, my husband and I had just started dating. He took me back to his hometown in Gansu to meet his parents, who were very pleased with me as their future daughter-in-law.

After a few days, my husband took me to meet his classmates. Naturally, classmates would drink at gatherings. I had a little and felt dizzy, so I excused myself and went home to sleep.

Walking into the yard, I saw the door was ajar. Without thinking, I pushed it open and stepped inside. The scene before me shocked me.

My mother-in-law was half-naked, her hands bound behind her back with rope. My father-in-law was embracing her, one hand touching her breast, the other inside her vagina. My mother-in-law's eyes were slightly closed, and she was moaning softly, seemingly enjoying herself.

I was stunned, my mind went blank, and I stood there dumbfounded. In just a few seconds, I recovered, turned and ran out, my heart pounding like a rabbit's, my face burning red…

I didn't know why my father-in-law had this kind of fetish; perhaps it was related to his job as a police officer guarding prisoners.

Whatever the reason, for a long time, my in-laws' flirting style kept replaying in my mind. Although I found it strange, a very exciting and unusual feeling arose within me.

After marriage, I hinted to my husband that he could flirt like that too, but he didn't feel the same way at all, so I had to give up.

Eight years passed in a flash. My husband, a graduate of military academy, became a staff officer in the army, and our son started school. Life was ordinary, but we were content. The only thing that worried us was my father-in-law, who lived far away in our hometown.

Two years ago, my mother-in-law passed away, and we suggested that my father-in-law move in with us so we could take care of him, but at first he refused.

First, he was reluctant to leave his hometown and worried about not being used to a new environment; second, his mother-in-law had just passed away, and his father-in-law was in a bad mood; third, he was afraid he wouldn't get along with me, although he didn't say it explicitly, I could tell this was the main reason he was unwilling to come.

To dispel his concerns, my husband, who was visiting home, and I went to his house together to persuade him. Seeing our sincerity, my father-in-law agreed.

To be honest, my father-in-law is a very easy-going and approachable person, and he's always busy. Since he came, he's been taking the children to and from school, saving me a lot of trouble.

On weekdays, the four of us, three generations, live a harmonious life, adding warmth and laughter to our otherwise ordinary home. My father-in-law is satisfied, my husband is satisfied, and I am satisfied.

Happy times always seem to pass quickly, and my month-long leave was over, and my husband had to go back to his unit. The night before he left, my husband stripped me naked, straddled me, and wantonly violated my body, saying he wanted to make up for all the losses he had incurred throughout the year.

I looked at him with great interest and said, "Okay, go ahead and do it all night long, don't stop."

My husband did it twice, exhausted, and lay motionless on top of me. I laughed and said, "Is that all? Get up and do it again if you dare."

My husband grabbed my nipple and said fiercely, "You vixen, trying to drain your husband dry?"

The next morning, while my father-in-law was taking the children to school, my husband got excited again. He took off my shirt on the sofa in the living room and touched, pinched, kissed, and licked my half-naked body, joking that he was worried about leaving his beautiful, vixen-like wife at home.

I said that my father was home, so what was there to worry about? Just then, my father-in-law came in. Seeing us two flirting, he coughed awkwardly twice and quickly left. For

the first few days after my husband left, I didn't feel anything different, but as time went on, I felt a little awkward. Especially when the children were asleep and it was late at night, my father-in-law and I both felt lonely and embarrassed.

My father-in-law goes to bed late and likes to watch TV. I'm also a night owl and enjoy watching TV too. When my husband is home, the family is always laughing and joking. But now it's just the two of us, sitting on the sofa, eyes glued to the TV, with nothing to say.

My father-in-law seems restless; for several days now, he's been going into the bedroom and not coming out for ages, or waiting until I'm asleep before coming out to watch TV. Seeing this, I've had no choice but to let him watch.

People say, "Old people are like children," and there are some things about old age that are hard to understand, so I just go along with it.

As April arrives, the weather is getting warmer. At home, I dress very simply, basically just a floral tank top and briefs, mostly without a bra because I find it too tight.

When my husband is home, I often wear this outfit, moving around freely, without feeling any discomfort in front of my father-in-law. But when my husband isn't home, I've noticed that sometimes the way my father-in-law looks at me is a little strange.

Especially his gaze, sweeping over my full breasts and bare thighs, made my heart skip a beat.

One night, I woke up to rustling noises coming from the living room. I went out to check and saw my father-in-law masturbating, naked from the waist down, while the television was showing a bound woman being abused by a man.

He froze when he saw me, then grabbed his clothes and ran into the bedroom. I blushed furiously, feeling incredibly ashamed, as if I had been peeping at someone having sex.

The next morning, I made breakfast as usual and called my father-in-law to get up. But even after calling him several times, he locked the door and wouldn't come out.

I ate a little quickly and rushed to take the children to school. On the way, I thought that perhaps we, as the younger generation, had neglected his sexual needs, thinking that as long as he had food, drink, and affection, that was enough. No wonder he was so talkative and excited when we talked about other people finding partners.

After work that evening, I picked up the children and went home. My father-in-law was still in the bedroom. I pushed the door, but it was locked from the inside. Sigh, my husband wasn't home, and I didn't know what to do.

The child was asleep. I tried to coax him from outside his door, but he wouldn't come out. In the middle of the night, I vaguely heard the door open, so I rushed out.

Seeing him, my heart softened. The old man looked ashamed and aged considerably. I pretended nothing had happened and quickly prepared food for him. No matter what I said, he remained silent.

Before going to bed, he said he wanted to go back to his hometown. I panicked. The house there was already rented out, and with my husband gone, how could I explain it to him? What if I caught his father masturbating?

I repeatedly said no, and he stopped insisting. From then on, he spoke even less, but his mood calmed down considerably. I thought the matter was over and didn't think much of it.

A week later, I came home from work and couldn't find my father-in-law or child. I rushed to the school, but school had already let out, and only my child was standing at the gate waiting for his grandfather. My father-in-law

was nowhere to be seen. As soon as I got home, I rushed to his bedroom. What I saw almost made me faint.

My father-in-law was lying on the bed, fully dressed, with his eyes closed. Then I noticed an empty bottle of sleeping pills on the bedside table.

I didn't even bother to check if he was still breathing; I burst into tears.

Between sobs, I called a neighbor to take him to the hospital.

After he was taken to the emergency room, I collapsed into a chair, feeling utterly exhausted and my heart pounding with anxiety.

I don't know how much time passed, but an elderly doctor came out and said he was out of danger. I finally breathed a sigh of relief.

A nurse came out, glared at me, and whispered to the doctor, "No wonder the old man committed suicide. Look at his daughter-in-law; she looks like a vixen. She must have been abused."

The old doctor gave me a disdainful look and snorted heavily, as if I had truly mistreated an elderly person.

I was speechless. Was I considered unfilial and unvirtuous simply because I was beautiful? Was a woman's beauty a sin, a source of trouble? I felt so wronged I just wanted to cry.

My father-in-law went home to rest. Fearing something might happen to him again, I took leave from work and stayed by his side constantly, taking care of him and telling him jokes to cheer him up. After all, age catches up with everyone, and after all this, he was weak and his spirits were not as good as before.

I dared not tell my husband any of this. How could I explain it? How could I explain it clearly? He might even think I was mistreating his father. I could only carefully take care of my father-in-law, hoping he wouldn't…

At night, my father-in-law slept peacefully. I stayed by his bedside, looking at his aged face, thinking that he must be suffering and lonely. I regretted being so impulsive that day; I shouldn't have come out to check on him, otherwise this wouldn't have happened.

Thinking of my father-in-law's listless state these past few days, tears streamed down my face uncontrollably.

The tears fell on his face, and when he woke up and saw me crying, he panicked.

I don't know why, but I grabbed his hand and whispered, "Let me see what's wrong with you, okay?"

Before he could react, I reached under the blanket and felt around his genitals.

His penis was small and soft, like a pitiful little bird curled up in a ball. My father-in-law looked embarrassed and didn't know what to do. With my touch, it slowly became aroused, a little hard…

My father-in-law closed his eyes, letting me do as I pleased. I think deep down he still longed for a woman, for sex. But his penis wasn't very good; it was just barely hard, but I could tell he was enjoying it.

I softly said to him, "Dad, if you're uncomfortable, let me help you."

He shook his head. I didn't know if he didn't want to, or if there was simply nothing to come out. I guess he can't come up with anything anymore. He's old, that's just how it is. All he can do is look and touch, just to satisfy his craving.

I wondered, what can that old scientist do with a 28-year-old wife? He can only look and touch, just to satisfy his craving.

So, while I was stroking myself, I also stroked my glans. Soon, my father-in-law was panting heavily from my touch.

Although he had a physical reaction, I could tell he was deliberately suppressing his desire. After all, I'm his daughter-in-law; how could he let loose?

Looking at his flushed face, I felt really sorry for him. I thought, since things have come to this, I might as well go all out and let him relax and enjoy himself completely today. So I grabbed his hand, put it inside my clothes, and placed it on my full breasts.

He was tense for a moment, his hand frozen, unsure what to do. I said, "It's okay, feel it." Only then did his hand move, kneading my breasts.

We, father-in-law and daughter-in-law, continued to caress each other like that. But I was still worried about my father-in-law's suicide attempt. I stroked him and said comforting words, which made him feel much better. Seeing him in a better mood, I finally felt relieved.

His good mood was contagious, so I teased him, "How about I give you some pleasure?"

I pointed to my crotch and joked, "This is your son's territory, you know."

My father-in-law waved his hands repeatedly, saying, "No, no."

Haha, that "no" was really well-chosen.

To be honest, when my father-in-law touched and squeezed my breasts, I got a little wet down there. After all, he's a man, albeit an older one.

From then on, whenever the children were asleep, I would talk to my father-in-law. Old people need emotional comfort, and of course, I would touch him every now and then.

From this, I understood a principle: regardless of man or woman, regardless of age, everyone has sexual needs; it must be a basic human instinct.

My father-in-law is a healthy man, and I am a healthy woman; we both have those needs.

As for whether my father-in-law and daughter-in-law are committing incest, I can't say for sure, but I know I should be filial to him and make sure he receives love and a happy life. That's my honest thought. What others say is their business; whether they praise or criticize, I don't care.

I spent a lot of time alone with my father-in-law and gradually understood his sexual needs.

One day, I suddenly had a urge to give him oral sex. I had seen this on a pornographic DVD my husband borrowed, and he had also asked me to do it before. I thought that what men like, my father-in-law might also enjoy.

So I heated up some bathwater and had him bathe, specifically instructing him to clean his private parts thoroughly.

My father-in-law lay down on the bed, and I went in and sat beside him. I first touched his penis, then took it into my mouth, sucking and licking the glans with my tongue. My father-in-law exclaimed in surprise, but quickly began to moan with pleasure.

Unexpectedly, his penis became bigger and harder, standing erect, which even my father-in-law found unbelievable.

While giving him oral sex, I asked him if it felt good. My father-in-law grunted and then continued moaning. After a while, he suddenly cried out again, and I quickly spat it out. Just as I pulled away, a stream of semen spurted out.

I wiped him clean with tissue paper and said, "Find a companion."

He paused and said, "No, too much trouble." After a while, he said, "This is good."

I didn't know if he meant that I was good to him, or that living with us was good. If he meant that I was good to him, what would happen when my husband came home? Should I tell him, or not? I thought I absolutely couldn't tell him!

One late night, I was watching TV with my father-in-law. A fashion show was on, and female models were walking around in thin, revealing lingerie. My father-in-law looked at me, hesitant to speak.

I asked what was wrong.

He stammered, "I want...I want to see you."

See me? Doesn't he see me every day? He smiled sheepishly.

Oh, I understood, I understood what he wanted to see in me. I thought about it for a moment. Since I'd already touched him, it didn't matter. Let him see. I pulled my father-in-law into his bedroom.

Although I'd agreed to his request, undressing in front of him for the first time still made me a little embarrassed. I turned my back to him, took off my nightgown and underwear, then took a breath, turned around, and faced him completely naked.

My father-in-law blushed, seemed to want to say something but didn't, his eyes fixed on my dark genitals.

I lifted my leg and said to him, "Want to touch?"

My father-in-law nodded shyly.

I smiled and encouraged him, "Then touch."

He hesitated for a moment, but finally reached out and stroked my vagina back and forth. I lifted one leg, opened it, and let him touch inside. I didn't know if he was excited or nervous, but I noticed his hand was trembling.

As he touched, he squatted down, pressed his face against mine, and licked my sensitive areas with his tongue. A surge of heat spread from my lower body upwards, making my mouth dry and my juices flow uncontrollably. I really wanted him to...do it to me.

But I couldn't. I wanted to scream but dared not, so I could only hold my breath and let my father-in-law continue.

He looked, touched, and licked, playing like a child for a while, then sat back on the bed, grinning foolishly at me.

His smile made me feel embarrassed, because it carried a mixture of satisfaction and a hint of lust.

I sat down next to him naked and teased him, "Satisfied now? Wait until your son comes back and we'll settle the score."

My father-in-law froze. I thought, "Oh no, something bad might happen again," and quickly said, "I was just kidding. How could I tell your son about this? I wouldn't."

He laughed sheepishly and said, "Oh, this old man of mine."

My husband has been gone for over half a year, and we still talk on the phone often. I always tell him everything is fine at home and to put his mind at ease.

But when I'm alone, I can't help but feel uneasy: this isn't right, it's immoral, I'm letting my husband down.

But seeing my father-in-law and children so happy, the whole family so harmonious, I stop thinking about it.

I think as long as I take good care of this family, I haven't let my husband

down. Besides, my father-in-law hasn't actually invaded my husband's territory. But if he wanted to, would I refuse? I don't know.

After all, he's a man, and I'm a woman, a woman longing for affection when her husband isn't around. Whether I touch him or he touches me, I still feel something, even a strong urge, but that's all.

Work has been incredibly busy lately. The company's restructuring and asset verification required a lot of falsified figures and reports. Besides working overtime every day, I also had to entertain officials from the state-owned assets and auditing departments.

Every morning I rushed out the door and didn't return until nine or ten at night, exhausted. My father-in-law took care of the house and the children.

Finally, it's all over. The company, being considerate of those of us who worked overtime, gave us a day off to rest at home.

For the past two weeks, whenever I come home, my father-in-law looks at me pitifully, his eyes filled with an urgent longing. I suddenly realized I'd neglected him for a while.

That night, after putting the children to sleep, I watched TV with my father-in-law. After sitting down next to him, I quietly asked, "Have you been missing me these past few days?"

He coughed awkwardly, but his eyes were fixed on my chest.

I turned to face him, puffed out my chest, and said, "Come on, touch it."

He laughed and said, "Touch it," and put his hand inside my nightgown, touching my breasts.

Thinking about my father-in-law taking medication, I couldn't help but laugh and said, "If that time the sleeping pills had passed, you wouldn't be feeling so good, right?"

He immediately retorted, "If I hadn't taken sleeping pills, I wouldn't be feeling so good either."

That made sense.

He added, "You caught me, I'm so embarrassed! Besides, life isn't very interesting anymore."

I chuckled and said, "Is it interesting now?"

He chuckled like a child.

I teased him, "So what if it's interesting? Your thing can't do anything."

He protested, saying he got an erection that time, which I knew meant when I gave him oral sex.

I said, "Then you should live a good life, live to be a hundred, and I'll definitely reward you once, okay?" Then I whispered, "Don't let your son know."

I wasn't kidding him; I really meant it. I'll have him wear a condom, just like one of those plastic things you buy online for masturbation.

My husband often says that having an elder in the family is a treasure, and that three or four generations can live together. I'm happy, and I'm sure my husband is too.

My father-in-law was delighted to hear this and said, "It's hard down there."

I touched it, and sure enough, it was harder than before. I said, "Then let me help you get it out."

He nodded vigorously.

I had him lie on the sofa, then knelt beside him and started stroking him repeatedly. He closed his eyes, enjoying it. Looking at him, I felt like a child, and I also felt ridiculous.

After a while, he came down there, just a little bit of thin, yellowish-brown fluid.

He went to sleep satisfied. For some reason, I started missing my husband, and I was wet down there too. I should have let my father-in-law touch me earlier.

I had mentioned to him before that if he was feeling restless, he could go see a prostitute, that was after he was discharged from the hospital. I didn't expect his face to change as soon as he heard that, and he kept saying, "No, no!"

I've been browsing media reports about the living conditions of single elderly people—their emotional loneliness, their physical discomfort—and wondering how to resolve these issues.

Remarriage is one option, but it could easily lead to family conflicts and constant disputes, and besides, my father-in-law wouldn't be willing. The media only calls for society to pay more attention to them; how can they actually do that? Sometimes I feel that this situation can't continue indefinitely, but what can I do?

At noon, I received a call from my husband at work. He said he was on a business trip and wanted to catch the last flight home tonight to visit. I was both happy and a little anxious.

After the call, I called home to tell my father-in-law, to prepare him mentally, and to comfort him gently, telling him not to worry. Now, all I pray for is peace—peace for my parents, my children, and my family.

I left work early and went home, finding my father-in-law still quite anxious, so I helped him calm down.

He sighed repeatedly, saying he had wronged his wife when he was young, and now he had wronged his son and daughter-in-law, cursing himself for being an old fool.

As soon as he said he had wronged his wife when he was young, I immediately remembered the scene where I caught my mother-in-law tying up her clothes.

I don't know if it meant that or something else.

He didn't say, and I didn't press him. But since I married into this family, I've always felt that the old couple were very loving, especially my father-in-law, who always carefully protected my mother-in-law, making me envious. I've repeatedly told my husband to learn from him.

My father-in-law insisted on not remarrying, and I think he must have some affection for my mother-in-law.

"It's alright, it's alright," I said, worried that he might do something foolish again or get sick from staying home, comforting him like a child, while also comforting myself.

My husband came home, and the whole family was very happy. The children ran around with the gifts their father brought back, and my father-in-law volunteered to prepare a late-night snack. I noticed he seemed a little awkward, so I let him be; normally, no matter how busy I am, I wouldn't let him cook.

My husband talked about his time in the army, occasionally asking about things at home. He kept talking non-stop. I noticed my husband was darker and thinner, but in good spirits.

When we rested, my husband hugged me and sincerely said, "Thank you for your hard work, my wife!"

Upon hearing this, tears welled up in my eyes, my heart a jumbled mess. What could I say? I silently kissed him, my heart aching with sorrow, wondering if my husband would blame me if he knew about my affair with his father. My

husband, of course, didn't care. We hadn't seen each other for over six months; these tears were tears of joy, and anything more would be superfluous.

He quickly stripped me naked, and I passionately cooperated with him. "Come on, husband! What your wife needs most right now is desire. Even if you treat me roughly, I will accept it without complaint..."

My husband's penetration made me feel secure; this was the longest we'd made love in all our years of marriage. It truly lived up to the old saying: "A long-awaited reunion is better than a new marriage." In the middle of the night, my husband made love again, then fell asleep, snoring loudly.

I couldn't sleep, wondering how my father-in-law was. While using the bathroom, I checked on him in his bedroom; thankfully, he was sleeping soundly.

The next morning, my husband went to deliver some things to our neighbor, Auntie's son, who was also in the army, serving in the same unit as my husband.

After my husband left, I saw my father-in-law sighing and comforted him, saying, "It's okay, we just won't do that again."

But can we really not do that? My husband has to go back to his unit tomorrow. What will I do after he leaves? Will my father-in-law and I have a further relationship? Sigh! My heart softens whenever I see my father-in-law suffering alone.

I've always been a sentimental person. Seeing others suffer makes me feel bad, and I want to help them in any way I can. Even my husband says I'm alluring on the outside but kind on the inside, and he jokingly teases me, saying I'm all looks and no brains.

I admit I'm not smart, even a little foolish, but what good is being smart? The smart women around me all have it harder than me.

Our department manager is a smart, capable, and beautiful woman. I admire her greatly; she handles everything so efficiently, it seems like there's no problem she can't solve.

But she married two husbands, and both men ended up with other women. Her last husband even married a factory worker. The manager was furious, constantly cursing and sighing. Compared to them, I'm lucky.

I only graduated from a vocational high school, yet I married a man who graduated with a master's degree from a military academy.

I always asked him why he didn't marry a woman with a similar education, and he said he liked women like me; highly educated women could only be colleagues, not wives.

He also said he wasn't just attracted to my looks, but also to my character and virtue.

Thinking back on his comments about me now makes me feel ashamed, because this "virtuous" wife almost cheated on him, and with his father no less. I'm so conflicted, hating myself for being so weak and indecisive.

Ugh! I don't want to think about it anymore, it's giving me a terrible headache. I'll just let things take their course. I believe in fate; destiny is in God's hands. I think this "big-breasted, brainless" woman is protected by God.

My sexual desires aren't very strong; I've only felt them in the last two years. Before, I always tried to please my husband. If he was happy and enjoyed himself, I was happy too. My husband likes to say some vulgar things during sex, finding it exciting, and sometimes I'd chime in.

It's okay for a husband and wife to say a few inappropriate things behind closed doors, but it's absolutely unacceptable to go too far. Once, my husband got drunk with his friends and acted recklessly, actually touching my breasts and genitals in front of them, even urging his friends to join in, saying it was up to me if I wanted.

I snapped. If I've done anything wrong, you can hit me, scold me, but you can never insult me like a prostitute.

Nowadays, people often joke about relationships, with dirty jokes and crude language constantly circulating at dinner parties and in text messages. I used to find it unbearable; it would make me blush and feel incredibly slutty.

But after hearing it so many times, I've become used to it and developed an immunity, just taking it as a joke. But I can't accept anything serious.

There's a lot of gossip and flirtation between men and women at work, and some even try to seduce me, which I just pretend not to notice. It's not that I think I'm particularly attractive, or that someone trying to seduce me is something to brag about, nor is it a moral issue; it just feels uncomfortable and awkward.

Sometimes I tell my husband about these things, and he gets a little excited, saying I'm charming. I'm unhappy when I hear that. Oh, does being charming mean I can sleep with them? My husband grins mischievously and says, "That's hard to say."

However, I admit that if a better man than my husband tempted me, I wouldn't be able to resist. But no matter what, I know my husband is good, and other men are unlikely to win my heart.

I read a book by a female author who said that all men are the same after they've slept together. If they're all the same, why bother making trouble!

Besides, in matters of love and sex, it's always the woman who ends up hurt. So no matter how other men flirt with me, I always play dumb and

remain oblivious. My lecherous boss at work says I'm good at playing dumb, and even the female manager says I'm quite sensible. I quickly reply, "Oh, not at all! I'm muddle-headed and stupid."

Men's lust and greed are innate flaws, so why bother? I'm simple, avoid trouble, and don't cause problems. Sometimes when my husband tries something funny, I tell him, "If you want to do it, I'll do it too, let's have a competition." Haha, just kidding.

But so far, my husband hasn't done anything outrageous behind my back. Maybe he still loves my body, or maybe he's grateful to me because he says I take good care of his father. I wonder to myself, if my husband knew all this, would he still be grateful?

My husband is a filial son. The Classic of Filial Piety tells of fourteen acts of filial piety, including burying one's son, lying on ice, and cutting off one's own flesh...

but none of them involve offering one's wife to one's father to share. Even the most filial son probably wouldn't act like that.

Never mind, never mind, it's too complicated to explain. As I said before, as long as my husband is happy, my father-in-law is fair and sound, and the family is harmonious and joyful

, that's enough. To put it another way, none of my body parts are missing or damaged. As for seeing or touching, when I gave birth, a male doctor delivered me. He not only saw and touched me, but he also lectured the interns while seeing and touching me—I was so embarrassed I almost hid under the bed.

My husband came back from my aunt's house, looking very unhappy. He glared at me and asked how his father had taken sleeping pills. My heart skipped a beat; my aunt must have told him. That aunt is so outspoken, she tells everyone everything.

"Tell me, what happened?!" my husband grabbed my arm and shouted, squeezing so hard it hurt.

I shook off his hand and said, "Keep your voice down, Dad's in the bedroom, don't let him hear."

I pulled my husband into my bedroom, closed the door, and told him everything—how I caught his father masturbating, how he ended up in the hospital after taking medication. My husband looked blank and remained silent.

I knew he was firmly against his father finding a partner. But faced with the old man's physical needs, he was helpless. After sighing for a while, he wanted to talk to his father.

I quickly stopped him, saying, "Dad has just calmed down recently, don't add to his worries. Old people are proud, the fewer people who know about this, the better." I added, "Don't worry, I'll take care of things at home. I'll make sure Dad lives happily."

My husband hugged me gratefully, repeatedly saying I was a good wife. Haha, good wife, why don't you ask me how I'll make your father happy? I think for the sake of this family, I must keep this last secret.

My husband stayed for a day and then left, and life at home returned to normal. My father-in-law, as usual, picked up and dropped off the children, and I felt much more relaxed. After a day and a night, we both seemed to have become more rational.

However, not long after, a ripple appeared in our peaceful life. It all started with something I said out of turn.

These past few days, a TV series about underground Communist Party members had been airing, with a tense and exciting plot, and my father-in-law and I watched it every day. The most tense part was when the enemy was chasing a female underground Communist Party member. I stared at the TV, secretly worried for her, my hands sweating with nervousness.

The female underground Communist Party member ultimately couldn't escape the enemy's clutches and was pinned to the ground by four or five men, her arms twisted and bound behind her back. I let out a soft cry, my hand gripping something tightly beside me.

After a while, my father-in-law suddenly made a strange sound, and that's when I realized I was gripping his thigh. We both laughed sheepishly.

My father-in-law said he had tried to bear it, but it hurt too much, and he probably had a bruise.

I said, "Take it off, let me see."

My father-in-law pulled down his pants, and sure enough, there was a not-so-obvious finger mark on his upper thigh. I apologized as I gently stroked him, my fingers brushing against his manhood, which suddenly became erect.

I pointed to the TV and asked, "Do you like that?"

My father-in-law seemed not to understand and asked what I meant.

I said, "It's like when you tie a woman up, isn't it? You were watching that the other day and doing that."

I said it casually, but he took it to heart. His face flushed red, and he twitched unnaturally; his manhood immediately shrank and softened. Afraid he would have another episode, I quickly comforted him, saying it was my fault, not intentional, and that he shouldn't take it to heart.

My father-in-law listlessly went back to the bedroom, and I followed him in. I made him lie down, sat on the edge of the bed, and slipped his hand under my shirt to touch my breasts, constantly trying to comfort him.

I told him that when I was little, I would get inexplicably excited whenever I saw men tearing women's clothes, twisting their arms, or interrogating them by their hair in movies. My father-in-law didn't believe me, saying I was making it up to amuse him.

I said, "It's true, you can try it if you don't believe me."

He said, "How can I try?"

"Wait here." I got up and found a cotton rope, about three or four meters long, in the wardrobe drawer in the living room.

"Do you think this rope will work?" I handed the rope to my father-in-law, but he wouldn't take it, saying, "I wouldn't dare, I wouldn't dare."

I said, "It's okay, it's just a test, I'm willing."

Only then did he take the rope and tie my hands behind my back, but he tied them loosely. I told him to tie them tighter, but he said the rope was thin and tying it too tight would hurt my skin.

I said, "Then go buy some rope tomorrow, whatever works well."

Speaking of rope, I remembered something. Once, I was tying a clothesline to a tree. I held it high, on tiptoe, and fiddled with it for ages without getting it right. I was about to ask my husband for help when I turned around and saw my father-in-law staring intently at me. Our eyes met, and he awkwardly walked away.

At the time, I didn't think much of it, but now I realize he must have been imagining me hanging there.

Why does my father-in-law have this fetish? What does it feel like? With these questions in mind, I searched online using the company computer. Sadomasochism? SM? What is that? It seems bondage is closely related to SM and sadomasochism.

I clicked on a website, and a moment later, a picture of a naked woman tightly bound popped up on the screen. I was terrified and quickly closed it. My colleagues were all around; if they saw this, I'd be mortified.

After work, I deliberately took out some forms and started scribbling, pretending to work overtime. My colleagues left one by one. I looked around to make sure no one was watching, ran to lock the door, then ran back and clicked on the website I'd just visited.

I never imagined there were things like this on the website—those pictures of bound and masochistic women, every single one of them made my blood boil and my heart race…

When I got home, I asked my father-in-law if he had bought it. He pointed to the wardrobe and smiled, and I secretly smiled too.

What's going on? Not only have we lost our generational relationship, but we've also started playing the sadomasochistic game.

Just thinking about those heart-pounding pictures gave me the urge. We had no interest in watching TV anymore, and after the children went to sleep, we couldn't wait to go into my father-in-law's bedroom.

Looking at the rope, I teased him, saying, "You old rascal."

He paused for a moment and replied, "Then why did you ask me to buy the rope?"

I said, "I told you to buy it, so you bought it, so obedient."

He seemed a little unhappy. Sigh, I was just joking with him. It seems you can't joke around with old people so easily.

I quickly coaxed him, "Today, you can do whatever you want, okay?"

Finally, the rope was tied around my body. My father-in-law tied it very tightly; the rope dug into my flesh, and my body felt like it was on fire. What I couldn't bear most was that my father-in-law touched my genitals at this time, making my lower area wet. I was shocked; how could I be so sensitive to rope?

For several days, that tingling, throbbing pleasure lingered in my mind, refusing to go away. Had I become bad, become wanton? I asked my father-in-law what was going on, why I had such a strong reaction, and he just chuckled.

"Do you have a reaction?" I asked him, and he said yes.

I asked again, "Did you often tie up your mother-in-law before?"

After a long while, my father-in-law said, "Back then, your mother said she had corrupted her." My

father-in-law's words once again aroused my curiosity, and I remembered his words of regret for his wife when he was young. I asked my father-in-law what exactly happened, and he pondered for a while before telling me about that past.

In the 1960s, the labor reform farms in Northwest China were short of correctional officers, and the public security system transferred a group of people from the inland areas to fill the gaps. My father-in-law was in his twenties at the time, full of youthful vigor, and he volunteered to go.

Thinking about it, it makes sense; people were simple in those days, responding to the Party's call. There's a saying, isn't there? Go wherever you're needed, settle down wherever it's hard. My father-in-law said he went there and stayed for over ten years.

The prisoners at the labor camp were mostly transferred from inland areas; they came from all over and had committed all sorts of crimes.

The armed company my father-in-law belonged to didn't directly manage the prisoners; they were only responsible for perimeter security. If a prisoner escaped, they were responsible for the pursuit.

The work at the labor camp was very heavy; the prisoners did all the heavy physical labor, such as clearing land, making adobe bricks, digging reservoirs, and repairing irrigation ditches.

After working more than ten hours a day, they were almost exhausted, and the prisoners' food was very poor—two cornbread buns and a bowl of boiled vegetables per meal.

Due to the lack of oil and fat, they always felt hungry, and many were malnourished, pale and thin.

Among the prisoners were honest ones and disobedient ones; the only way to deal with the disobedient ones was to drag them out and beat them.

Because of fear of retaliation, the guards didn't participate in the beatings; they left it to the armed company to carry out. Three or four people would wait in the small hut beforehand. As soon as the prisoner was brought inside, they would put a sack over his head, hang him from the rafters, and whip him with a belt.

My father-in-law said they were very experienced at beating people. When hanging someone, they would make sure their toes were just barely off the ground, just to increase the victim's pain. When beating someone, they wouldn't injure the flesh, only inflict internal injuries, so that they wouldn't be visible on the outside.

Life on the labor camp was monotonous and boring. Most of the time, my father-in-law and his accomplices just used the prisoners for amusement and thrills. They would strip someone naked, hang them up, and put a weight on their penis. In less than half an hour, the prisoner would obediently beg for mercy and become submissive.

Soon after, the Cultural Revolution began, with people forming alliances, rebelling, and seizing power, causing chaos everywhere.

Once, a rebel organization from another region started a violent fight, killing and injuring many people. The local police arrested several of their leaders, including a woman.

Before the interrogation even began, a commotion broke out outside, completely surrounding the police station. They threatened to storm in and seize the people if they weren't released. Left with no other option, they were taken to an armed depot that very night.

The father-in-law said that the woman wasn't pretty at all; she was large and burly, and her attitude was terrible—she was a shrew, throwing a tantrum and cursing. The

men had never been treated like this before, so they discussed how to deal with her. They'd always dealt with prisoners, and always men; dealing with a woman would naturally make them happier and more excited.

That night, they took the woman into a small room, not even bothering to put a sack over her. It was dark anyway, just the moonlight streaming in from the window making it difficult to make out her features.

They gagged her, stripped her clothes off, and hung her up naked. The woman stretched her legs, trying to reach the ground, but after several attempts, only her toes barely touched the ground. Within minutes, she began to whimper in pain.

In the darkness, the man's hands reached for her breasts and genitals. My father-in-law said the woman's breasts were frighteningly large, drooping in front of her chest, feeling like cloth sacks.

Even so, they were excited; at least she was a woman, better than a sow.

My father-in-law's hand moved down her thigh, feeling something slippery and sticky on his hand. He smelled it—the fishy smell of male semen. He didn't know who had ejaculated there, and he didn't even realize his own penis was getting hard.

From then on, my father-in-law's desire for women grew even stronger. Just then, a letter came from his hometown in Gansu, introducing him to a potential partner and asking him to come back for a blind date. After the blind date, they finally settled down and got married a year later. This woman was my mother-in-law.

After marriage, my in-laws lived apart for four or five years. Only after the birth of our second child, my current husband, did my father-in-law pull strings to get transferred back to work at the Guan Commune Police Station in the county.

If it weren't for one incident, my father-in-law and mother-in-law would have lived peacefully together, and there wouldn't have been any talk of "feeling sorry for my husband in my youth."

It turned out that when my father-in-law was young, he had a lover who enjoyed masochism. The two often played sadomasochistic games behind my mother-in-law's back. Finally, one day, their affair was discovered by my mother-in-law.

She said nothing and silently walked away. I truly admire my mother-in-law for this; she is a kind and understanding person. If it were me, I wouldn't be able to bear seeing my husband having an affair.

For a long time, my father-in-law dared not do anything more, staying obediently at home. My mother-in-law never mentioned it again, as if nothing had happened, which made my father-in-law very uneasy.

Then one day, my mother-in-law suddenly suggested that she try the experience of masochism.

My father-in-law said he couldn't believe it at first, thinking my mother-in-law hadn't forgiven him and was deliberately testing him.

Only after she repeatedly begged did he tie her up.

From then on, the old couple enjoyed it immensely, always doing it late at night when they were deeply in love. My father-in-law said that when his mother was young, she loved being hung up; it felt particularly humiliating and exciting.

Oh, no wonder! That day when I was tying the rope, my father-in-law kept looking at me; he must have thought I was my mother-in-law being hung up. Hehe…

Looking at my father-in-law's blissful and longing expression, I gently tapped his forehead with my finger and said with a smile, "You're so naughty! Not only have you corrupted your own wife, but you'll corrupt your daughter-in-law sooner or later too." Humph!

My father-in-law laughed like a child, his face beaming with smugness.

"Don't laugh!" I actually started to act coquettishly in front of him. My father-in-law picked up the rope and asked if I wanted to try again. I said, "Can you do it like you did with my mother-in-law?"

My father-in-law didn't understand at first and asked me, "Like that?"

I pointed to the roof beam, "Just like that, hang up there..."

Hanging up there, I finally understood the humiliation and excitement my mother-in-law had described. My hands, bound by hemp rope, were tightly pulled to the roof beam, my naked body exposed without any cover in front of my father-in-law. I stood on tiptoe, struggling to support my suspended body...

But my father-in-law squatted down facing me, spread my legs with his hands, and brought his head close, opening his mouth to suck on my labia minora, licking them a few times with his tongue, then pulling them outwards with his lips.

Instantly, I felt extremely excited, my vaginal fluids gushing out continuously, my whole body itching, like being on fire, but being bound, I couldn't struggle, so I could only keep twisting my body, my legs tightly clamping my father-in-law's head.

My father-in-law's tongue swept back and forth across my genitals like a brush, occasionally pushing hard into my vagina. Because the child was home, I dared not moan, keeping my mouth tightly shut, trying not to make a sound. When I couldn't hold it in any longer, I opened my mouth wide and gasped for breath.

My father-in-law stood up again, walked behind me, brought a chair for me to stand on, so I could maintain a squatting position, then knelt on the ground, tilted his head back, and actually began licking my anus.

I never imagined that having my anus licked could feel so good; my whole body felt like it was being electrocuted, my anus tightening and spasming in waves.

While licking, my father-in-law inserted two fingers of his left hand into my vagina, and then quickly vibrated my clitoris with his right hand. Suddenly, my whole body began to tremble rhythmically from my genitals, and I even lost control of my bladder, urinating directly. My mind went blank, and I passed out from an orgasm.

I don't know how much time passed, but when I woke up, I opened my eyes to see my father-in-law's face, pale with fright.

"Finally awake, that was terrible,"

I smiled weakly and went back to sleep.

After that day, my relationship with my father-in-law became even warmer. He looked at me with the eyes of someone looking at a daughter and also a lover.

Sometimes, when the mood struck, after the children were asleep, my father-in-law and I would masturbate and perform oral sex on each other, but we never actually had sex. Perhaps we were both afraid of breaking the taboo of incest.

No matter how much I tried to persuade him, he never dared to play bondage games with me again. After that bondage experience, I never experienced such intense orgasms again.

Two years later, my father-in-law passed away. Before he died, he held my husband's and my hands and told him that I was a good woman and that he should treat me well for the rest of his life.

My husband cried, and I cried too.

(The End)

Note: This is the experience of a female netizen. I have only slightly embellished her original text and published it with her permission. To protect the authenticity of this story, it is still written in the first person. Readers are requested not to interpret the text literally or pry into the woman's privacy. That

year, my husband and I had just started dating. He took me back to his hometown in Gansu to meet his parents, who were very pleased with me as their future daughter-in-law.

After a few days, my husband took me to meet his classmates. Of course, classmates drink together, and after a little, I felt dizzy and excused myself to go home and sleep.

As I walked into the yard, I saw the door was ajar. Without thinking, I pushed it open and stepped inside. The scene before me shocked me.

My mother-in-law was half-naked, her hands bound behind her back with rope. My father-in-law was embracing her, one hand touching her breast, the other inside her vagina. My mother-in-law's eyes were slightly closed, and she was moaning softly, seemingly enjoying herself.

I was stunned, my mind went blank, and I stood there dumbfounded. After a few seconds, I came to my senses, turned around, and ran out, my heart pounding like a rabbit's, my face burning red…

I didn't know why my father-in-law had such a fetish; perhaps it was related to his job as a policeman guarding prisoners.

For whatever reason, for a long time, my in-laws' flirting style lingered in my mind. Although I found it strange, it also stirred a strange and exciting feeling within me.

After marriage, I hinted to my husband that he could flirt like that too, but he didn't feel the same way, so I had to give up.

Eight years passed in a flash. My husband, a graduate of military academy, became a staff officer in the army, and our son started school. Life was ordinary, but we were content. The only thing that worried us was my father-in-law, who lived far away in our hometown.

Two years ago, my mother-in-law passed away, and we suggested that he move in with us so we could take care of him. At first, he refused.

First, he was reluctant to leave his hometown and was afraid he wouldn't adapt to a new environment; second, he was still upset about his mother's passing; and third, he was afraid we wouldn't get along. Although he didn't say it explicitly, I could tell that these were the main reasons he didn't want to come.

To dispel his concerns, my husband and I, who were visiting home, went to his house to persuade him. Seeing our sincerity, he finally agreed.

To be honest, my father-in-law is a very easygoing and approachable person, and also a very active one. Since he came to live with us, he's been the one picking up and dropping off the children at school, saving me a lot of trouble.

On weekdays, the four of us, three generations, live a harmonious life, adding warmth and laughter to our otherwise ordinary home. My father-in-law is happy, my husband is happy, and I am happy too.

Happy times always seem to fly by, and my month-long leave to visit him came to an end; my husband had to go back to his unit. The night before he left, he stripped me naked, straddled me, and wantonly ravaged my body, saying he wanted to make up for all the losses he'd accumulated over the year.

I looked at him with great interest and said, "Okay, go ahead and do it all night long, don't stop."

My husband did it twice, until he was exhausted and lay motionless on top of me. I laughed and said, "Is that all? Get up and do it again if you dare."

My husband grabbed my nipple and said fiercely, "You vixen, trying to drain your husband dry?"

The next morning, while my father-in-law was taking the kids to school, my husband got excited again. He stripped off my shirt on the sofa in the living room, touching, pinching, kissing, and licking my half-naked body, joking that he wouldn't feel at ease leaving his beautiful, vixen-like wife at home.

I said, "Dad's home, what's there to worry about?" Just then, my father-in-law came in. Seeing us flirting, he coughed awkwardly twice and quickly left. For

the first few days after my husband left, I didn't feel anything different, but as time went on, it became awkward. Especially after the kids were asleep and it was late at night, my father-in-law and I both felt lonely and embarrassed.

My father-in-law sleeps late and likes to watch TV. I'm also a night owl and like to watch TV. When my husband was here, the whole family would chat and laugh. But now it was just my father-in-law and me, sitting on the sofa, eyes glued to the TV, with nothing to say.

My father-in-law seemed restless, spending long periods in his bedroom for days at a time, or waiting until I was asleep before coming out to watch TV. Seeing this, I had no choice but to let him watch TV.

People say, "Old people are like children," and there are some things about old age that are hard to understand, so I just went along with it.

As April arrived, the weather gradually warmed up. At home, I dressed very simply, basically just a floral tank top and briefs, mostly without a bra because I found it too tight.

When my husband was home, I often wore this outfit, moving around freely without feeling any discomfort in front of my father-in-law. When my husband wasn't home, I noticed that my father-in-law sometimes looked at me strangely.

Especially his gaze, sweeping over my full breasts and bare thighs, made my heart clench.

One night, I woke up to rustling sounds coming from the living room. Looking out, I saw my father-in-law masturbating, naked from the waist down, while the TV was showing a story about a bound woman being abused by a man.

My father-in-law froze when he saw me, then grabbed his clothes and ran into the bedroom. I blushed furiously, feeling incredibly ashamed, as if I'd been peeping at someone having sex.

The next morning, I made breakfast as usual and called him to get up. But no matter how many times I called, he wouldn't come out, the door locked.

I ate a little quickly and rushed to take the children to school. On the way, I thought that perhaps we, as the younger generation, had neglected his sexual needs, thinking that as long as he had food, drink, and affection, that was enough. No wonder he'd been so talkative and excited when we talked about other people finding partners.

That evening, after work, I picked up the children and went home. My father-in-law was still in the bedroom. I pushed the door, but it was locked. Sigh, my husband wasn't home, and I didn't know what to do.

The children were asleep. I tried to coax him from outside the door, but he still wouldn't come out. In the middle of the night, I vaguely heard the door open, and I rushed out.

Upon seeing my father-in-law, my heart softened. The old man looked ashamed and aged considerably. I pretended nothing had happened and busied myself preparing food for him. No matter how much I tried to talk about this or that, he remained silent.

Before going to bed, he said he wanted to go back to his hometown, and I panicked. The house in his hometown had already been rented out to someone else, and besides, my husband wasn't there. How could I explain it to him if he just left like that? What would it look like if I caught his father masturbating?

I repeatedly said no, and he stopped insisting. From then on, he spoke even less, but his emotions were much calmer. I thought the matter was over and didn't think much of it.

A week later, I came home from work and couldn't find my father-in-law or child. I rushed to the school. School had already let out, and only my child was standing at the gate waiting for his grandfather, but my father-in-law was nowhere to be seen.

As soon as I got home, I rushed to my father-in-law's bedroom to check, and what I saw almost made me faint.

My father-in-law lay on the bed, fully dressed, his eyes closed. Looking closer,

I saw an empty bottle of sleeping pills on the bedside table. Without even checking if he was still breathing, I burst into tears.

Between sobs, I called for a neighbor to take him to the hospital.

After he was taken to the emergency room, I collapsed into a chair, utterly exhausted, my heart pounding with anxiety.

I don't know how much time passed, but an elderly doctor came out and said he was out of danger. I finally breathed a sigh of relief.

A nurse came out, glared at me, and whispered to the doctor, "No wonder the old man committed suicide. Look at his daughter-in-law, she looks so seductive, she must have been abused."

The old doctor also gave me a disdainful look and snorted heavily, as if I had truly abused the old man.

I was speechless. Was I unfilial and unvirtuous simply because I was beautiful? Was being beautiful a sin, a curse? I felt so wronged I just wanted to cry.

My father-in-law returned home to recuperate. Afraid something might happen to him again, I took leave from work and stayed by his side constantly, taking care of him and telling him jokes to cheer him up. After all, age catches up with everyone, and this ordeal has left him weak and his spirits much lower than before.

I dared not tell my husband any of this. How could I explain it? How could I possibly explain it clearly? He might even think I was abusing his father. I could only carefully attend to my father-in-law, trying to keep him from…

That night, my father-in-law slept peacefully. I sat by his bedside, looking at his aged face, thinking how much he must be suffering and how lonely he must be. I regretted my impulsiveness that day; I shouldn't have come out to check on him, otherwise this wouldn't have happened.

Thinking of how listless he had been these past few days, tears streamed down my face.

My tears fell on his face, and when he woke up and saw me crying, he panicked.

I don't know what came over me, but I grabbed my father-in-law's hand and whispered, "Let me see what's wrong with you, okay?"

Before he could react, I reached under the blanket and groped for his genitals.

The thing inside his underwear was small and soft, like a pitiful little bird curled up in a ball. My father-in-law looked embarrassed and didn't know what to do. Under my caresses, the little thing slowly became sensitive and hardened...

My father-in-law closed his eyes, letting me do as I pleased. I think deep down he still longed for a woman, for sex. But his thing wasn't very good, just barely hard, but I could tell he was enjoying it.

I said softly, "Dad, if you're uncomfortable, I can help you get it out."

My father-in-law shook his head. I don't know if he didn't want to, or if there was simply nothing to come out. I guess he couldn't get it out; old age is old age, there's nothing you can do about it, you can only look and touch, satisfying your craving.

I wondered, what about that old scientist who married a 28-year-old woman? Could he even manage? It was just looking and touching, a little indulgence.

So I masturbated, stroking his glans, and soon my father-in-law was panting heavily.

Although he had a physical reaction, I could tell he was deliberately suppressing his desires; after all, I was his daughter-in-law, how could he let loose?

Looking at his flushed face, I felt really sorry for him. I thought, since things had come to this, I might as well go all out and let him relax and enjoy himself to the fullest today. So I grabbed his hand, put it inside my clothes, and placed it on my full breasts.

My father-in-law was tense for a while, his hand frozen, not knowing what to do. I said, "It's okay, feel it." Only then did his hand move, kneading my breasts.

We, father-in-law and daughter-in-law, continued to caress each other. But I was still worried about my father-in-law's suicidal thoughts, so I stroked him and said comforting words, which made him feel much better. Seeing that he was in a better mood, I finally felt relieved.

My father-in-law's good mood was contagious, so I teased him again, saying, "How about I give you some pleasure?"

I pointed to my crotch and joked, "This is your son's territory, you know."

My father-in-law waved his hands repeatedly, saying, "No, no, no."

Haha, that "no" was used perfectly.

To be honest, when my father-in-law touched and squeezed my breasts, I got a little wet down there. After all, he's a man, albeit an older one.

From then on, whenever the children were asleep, I would talk to my father-in-law. Old people need emotional comfort, and of course, I would touch him every now and then.

From this, I understood a principle: regardless of man or woman, regardless of age, everyone has sexual needs; it's probably a basic human instinct.

My father-in-law is a healthy man, and I am a healthy woman; we both have those needs.

As for whether my father-in-law and daughter-in-law are committing incest, I can't say for sure, but I know I should respect him, let him receive love, and give him a happy life. This is my true thought; what others say is their business, praise or criticism, I don't care.

Having spent more time alone with my father-in-law, I gradually came to understand his sexual needs.

One day, on a whim, I decided to give him oral sex. I'd seen this on a pornographic DVD my husband had borrowed, and he'd even made me do it before. I figured what men like, my father-in-law might enjoy too.

So I heated up some bathwater and had him bathe, specifically instructing him to clean his private parts thoroughly.

He lay down on the bed, and I sat beside him. I first touched his penis, then took it into my mouth, sucking and licking the glans with my tongue. He gasped in surprise, but quickly began to moan with pleasure.

To my astonishment, it grew larger and harder, standing erect—even he found it unbelievable.

While I was giving him oral sex, I asked him if it felt good. He hummed in response and continued moaning. After a while, he suddenly cried out again, and I quickly pulled out. As soon as I left his mouth, his penis ejaculated.

I wiped my father-in-law clean with tissue paper and said, "Find a companion."

He paused for a moment and said, "No, that's too much trouble." After a while, he said again, "It's fine as it

is." I didn't know if he meant that I was good to him or that living with us was good. If he meant that I was good to him, what would happen when my husband came home? Should I tell him or not? I thought I absolutely couldn't tell him!

One late night, I was watching TV with my father-in-law. A fashion show was on, and female models were walking around on stage in thin, revealing lingerie. My father-in-law looked at me, hesitant to speak.

I asked what was wrong.

He stammered, "I want...I want to see you."

See me? Doesn't he see me every day? My father-in-law smiled awkwardly.

Oh, I understand now, I understand what he wants to see. I thought about it, since I've already touched you, it's nothing, let him see. I pulled my father-in-law into his bedroom.

Although I had agreed to his request, undressing in front of him for the first time still made me a little embarrassed. I turned away from him, took off my nightgown and underwear, then took a breath, turned around, and faced him completely naked.

My father-in-law's face was flushed; he seemed to want to say something but didn't, his eyes fixed on my dark genitals.

I lifted one leg and asked him, "Want to touch?"

He nodded shyly.

I smiled and encouraged him, "Then touch."

He hesitated for a moment, but finally reached out and began to caress my vagina. I raised one leg, opened it, and let him touch inside. I didn't know if he was excited or nervous, but I noticed his hand was trembling.

As he touched, he squatted down, pressed his face against mine, and licked me, his tongue teasing my sensitive areas. A warm current spread from my lower body upwards; I felt parched, and my juices flowed uncontrollably. I really wanted him to...do it with me.

But I couldn't. I wanted to scream but dared not, so I could only hold my breath and let him continue.

My father-in-law looked at it, touched it, licked it, playing like a child for a while, then sat back on the bed, grinning foolishly at me.

His smile made me feel embarrassed, because it carried a mixture of satisfaction and a hint of lewdness.

I sat down next to him naked and teased, "Satisfied now? Wait until your son comes back and we'll settle the score."

He froze. I thought, "Oh no, something bad might happen again," and quickly said, "Just kidding! How could I tell your son about this? I won't."

He laughed sheepishly, saying, "Sigh, this old codger of mine."

My husband has been gone for over half a year, and we still talk on the phone often. I always tell him everything is fine at home and to put his mind at ease.

But when I'm alone, I can't help but feel uneasy: this isn't right, it's immoral, I'm letting my husband down.

But seeing my father-in-law and children so happy, the family so harmonious, I stop thinking about it.

I think as long as I take good care of this family, I haven't let my husband down.

Besides, my father-in-law hasn't actually invaded my husband's territory. If my father-in-law wanted to possess me, would I refuse? I don't know.

After all, he's a man, and I'm a woman, a woman longing for affection when her husband isn't around. Whether I touch him or he touches me, I still feel something, even have an impulse, but that's all.

Lately, work has been incredibly busy. The company is restructuring and verifying assets, requiring a lot of falsified figures and reports. Besides working overtime every day, I also have to entertain officials from the state-owned assets and auditing departments.

Every morning I rush out the door, and I don't return until nine or ten at night, exhausted. My father-in-law takes care of the house and the children.

Finally, it's all over. The company is considerate of those of us who work overtime, giving us a day to rest at home.

For over half a month, whenever I come home, my father-in-law looks at me pitifully, his eyes filled with an urgent longing. I suddenly realize I've neglected him for a while.

At night, after putting the children to sleep, I watch TV with my father-in-law. After sitting down next to my father-in-law, I quietly asked, "Have you been thinking about it these past few days?"

He coughed awkwardly, but his eyes were fixed on my chest.

I turned to face him, puffed out my chest, and said, "Come on, touch it."

He laughed and said, "Touch it," and slipped his hand under my nightgown, touching my breasts.

Remembering his pill-taking, I couldn't help but laugh and said, "If you hadn't taken those sleeping pills, you wouldn't be feeling this good, would you?"

He immediately retorted, "If I hadn't taken sleeping pills, I wouldn't be feeling this good either."

That made sense.

He added, "You caught me, I'm so embarrassed! Besides, life isn't very interesting anymore."

I chuckled and said, "Is it interesting now?"

He chuckled like a child.

I teased him, "So what if it's interesting? Your thing can't do anything."

He protested, saying that he got hard that time, which I knew meant when I gave him oral sex.

I said, "Then you should live a good life and live to be a hundred years old. I will definitely reward you, okay?" Then I added quietly, "Don't let your son know."

I wasn't lying to my father-in-law; that's really what I thought. I wanted him to wear a condom, just like one of those plastic things you buy online for masturbation.

My husband often says that having an elder in the family is a treasure, that three or four generations can live together, and I'm happy, and my husband would be happy too. My

father-in-law was very happy to hear that, saying, "It's hard down there."

I touched it, and sure enough, his little thing was harder than before. I said, "Then let me help you get it out."

My father-in-law nodded vigorously.

I had him lie on the sofa, then squatted beside him and started stroking him repeatedly. My father-in-law closed his eyes, enjoying it. Looking at him, I felt like a child, and I also felt ridiculous.

After all that, he got some discharge, just a little bit of thin, yellowish-brown fluid.

My father-in-law went to sleep satisfied. For some reason, I missed my husband a little, and I was wet down there too. I should have let my father-in-law touch me earlier; that would have been better.

I had mentioned to my father-in-law before that if he felt uncomfortable, he could go see a prostitute, but that was after he was discharged from the hospital. Unexpectedly, my father-in-law's face changed upon hearing this, and he repeatedly said, "No, no!"

I've been intentionally browsing media reports about the living conditions of single elderly people—their emotional loneliness, their physical discomfort—and wondering how to resolve these issues.

Remarriage is one option, but it could easily lead to numerous conflicts and disputes within the family, and besides, my father-in-law wouldn't be willing. The media only calls for society to pay more attention to them; how can they really show that concern? Sometimes I also feel that this situation can't continue indefinitely, but what else can I do?

At noon, I received a call from my husband at work. He said he was on a business trip and wanted to catch the last flight home tonight to visit me. I was both happy and a little anxious.

After the call, I called home to tell my father-in-law, to prepare him mentally, and offered him some kind words of comfort, telling him not to worry. Now, all I pray for is peace—peace for the elderly, the children, and the whole family.

I left work early and returned home, finding my father-in-law still quite anxious, so I helped him calm down.

He sighed repeatedly, saying he had wronged his wife when he was young, and now he had wronged his son and daughter-in-law, cursing himself for being an old man who wouldn't die.

When he mentioned feeling sorry for his wife in his youth, I immediately recalled the scene of me catching my mother-in-law being tied up.

I don't know if it was because of that, or something else.

He didn't say, and I didn't press him. However, since I married into this family, I've always felt that the elderly couple were very loving, especially my father-in-law, who always carefully protected my mother-in-law, making me envious. I've repeatedly told my husband to learn from him.

My father-in-law insisted on not remarrying, which I think must be because of his feelings for my mother-in-law.

"It's alright, it's alright," I said, comforting him like a child, worried that he might do something foolish again or get sick from staying home. At the same time, I was also comforting myself.

My husband came home, and the whole family was very happy. The children ran around with the gifts their father brought back, and my father-in-law volunteered to prepare a late-night snack. I noticed he seemed a little awkward, so I let him be; normally, no matter how busy I am, I wouldn't let him cook.

My husband talked about his time in the army, occasionally asking about things at home. He kept talking non-stop. I noticed my husband was darker and thinner, but in good spirits.

During our rest, my husband hugged me and sincerely said, "You've worked so hard, wife!"

Hearing this, tears welled up in my eyes, my heart a jumble of emotions. What could I say? I silently kissed him, my heart aching, wondering if my husband would blame me if he knew about my relationship with his father.

My husband, of course, didn't care. We hadn't seen each other for over six months, and these tears were tears of joy; saying anything more would be superfluous.

He quickly stripped me naked, and I passionately cooperated with him. "Come on, husband! What your wife needs most right now is desire. Even if you treat me roughly, I will accept it without complaint..."

My husband's penetration made me feel secure; this was the longest we'd made love in all our years of marriage. It truly lived up to the old saying: "A long separation is better than a new marriage." In the middle of the night, my husband made love again, then fell asleep, snoring loudly.

I couldn't sleep, wondering how my father-in-law was. While using the restroom, I went to his bedroom to check on him. Thankfully, he was sleeping soundly.

The next morning, my husband went to deliver some things to our neighbor, Auntie's son, who was also in the army, serving in the same unit as my husband.

After he left, I saw my father-in-law sighing and comforted him, saying, "It's okay, we just won't do that again."

But could we really not do that? My husband had to rush back to his unit the next day. What would I do after he left? Would my relationship with my father-in-law develop further? Sigh! Seeing my father-in-law's loneliness and suffering softened my heart.

I've always been a sentimental person; seeing others suffer makes me feel bad, and I want to help them in any way I can. Even my husband says I'm alluring on the outside but kind on the inside, and he jokingly teases me, saying I'm all looks and no brains.

I admit I'm not smart, even a little stupid, but what good is being smart? The smart women around me all have it harder than me.

Our department manager is a smart, capable, and beautiful woman. I admire her greatly; she handles everything so efficiently, it seems there's no problem she can't solve.

She married two husbands, and both men ended up with other women. Her last husband even married a factory worker. The female manager was furious, constantly yelling and sighing. Compared to them, I was lucky.

I only graduated from a vocational high school, yet I married a man who graduated with a master's degree from a military academy.

I always asked him why he didn't marry a woman of similar education. He said he liked women like me; highly educated women could only be colleagues, not wives.

He also said he was attracted not only to my looks but also to my character and virtue.

Now, thinking back on his words, I feel ashamed, because this "virtuous" wife almost cheated on him, and with his father no less! I'm so conflicted, hating myself for being so weak and indecisive.

Ugh! I don't want to think about it anymore; it's giving me a terrible headache. I'll just let things take their course. I believe in fate; destiny is in God's hands. I think this "big-breasted, brainless" woman will be protected by God.

I don't have a strong sex drive; it's only in the last couple of years that I've started to feel it. Before, I always tried to please my husband; if he was happy and enjoyed himself, I was happy too. My husband likes to use vulgar language during sex, finding it exciting, and sometimes I'd join in.

It's fine for a husband and wife to talk about things a little inappropriately behind closed doors, but it's absolutely unacceptable for things to go too far. Once, my husband got drunk with his friends and acted recklessly, actually touching my breasts and genitals in front of them, even urging his friends to join in, saying it was up to me if I wanted to.

I was furious. If I've done anything wrong, you can hit me, scold me, but you can never insult me like a prostitute.

Nowadays, people often joke about sex; there are constant dirty jokes and crude remarks at dinner parties and in text messages. In the past, I couldn't stand it; it would make me blush and feel incredibly aroused.

But after hearing it so many times, I've become immune; I just treat it as a joke. But I can't accept it when it's taken seriously.

There's a lot of gossip and flirtation going on in the company, with some men making advances on me, and I just pretend not to notice. It's not that I think I'm particularly attractive, or that having someone make advances on me is something to brag about, nor is it a moral issue; it just feels uncomfortable and awkward.

Sometimes I tell my husband about these things, and he gets a little excited, saying I'm charming. I'm unhappy when I hear that. Oh, does being charming mean I can sleep with them? My husband grins mischievously and says, "That's hard to say."

However, I admit that if a better man than my husband were to tempt me, I wouldn't be able to resist. But no matter what, I know my husband is good, and other men are unlikely to win my heart.

I once read a book by a female author who said all men are the same in bed. If they're all the same, why make trouble?

Besides, in matters of the heart, it's always the woman who ends up hurt. So no matter how other men flirt with me, I pretend to be oblivious.

My lecherous boss at work says I'm good at playing dumb, and even the female manager said I'm quite sensible. I quickly replied, "Oh, not at all! I'm confused and stupid."

Men's lust and greed are innate flaws, why bother with them? I'm simple, I don't cause trouble. Sometimes when my husband tries something funny, I tell him, "If you want to, I'll too, let's have a competition." Just kidding.

But so far, my husband hasn't done anything outrageous behind my back. Maybe he still loves my body, or maybe he's grateful because he says I take good care of his father. I wonder if my husband would still be grateful if he knew all this?

My husband is a filial son. The Classic of Filial Piety tells of fourteen acts of filial piety, including burying one's son, lying on ice, and cutting off one's own flesh...

but none of them involve offering one's wife to one's father to share. Even the most filial son probably wouldn't act like that.

Never mind, never mind, it's too complicated to explain. As I said before, as long as my husband is happy, my father-in-law is fair and sound, and the family is harmonious and joyful

, that's enough. To put it another way, none of my body parts are missing or damaged. As for seeing or touching, when I gave birth, a male doctor delivered me. He not only saw and touched me, but he also lectured the interns while seeing and touching me—I was so embarrassed I almost hid under the bed.

My husband came back from my aunt's house, looking very unhappy. He glared at me and asked how his father had taken sleeping pills. My heart skipped a beat; my aunt must have told him. That aunt is so outspoken, she tells everyone everything.

"Tell me, what happened?!" my husband grabbed my arm and shouted, squeezing so hard it hurt.

I shook off his hand and said, "Keep your voice down, Dad's in the bedroom, don't let him hear."

I pulled my husband into my bedroom, closed the door, and told him everything—how I caught his father masturbating, how he ended up in the hospital after taking medication. My husband looked blank and remained silent.

I knew he was firmly against his father finding a partner. But faced with the old man's physical needs, he was helpless. After sighing for a while, he wanted to talk to his father.

I quickly stopped him, saying, "Dad has just calmed down recently, don't add to his worries. Old people are proud, the fewer people who know about this, the better." I added, "Don't worry, I'll take care of things at home. I'll make sure Dad lives happily."

My husband hugged me gratefully, repeatedly saying I was a good wife. Haha, good wife, why don't you ask me how I'll make your father happy? I think for the sake of this family, I must keep this last secret.

My husband stayed for a day and then left, and life at home returned to normal. My father-in-law, as usual, picked up and dropped off the children, and I felt much more relaxed. After a day and a night, we both seemed to have become more rational.

However, not long after, a ripple appeared in our peaceful life. It all started with something I said out of turn.

These past few days, a TV series about underground Communist Party members had been airing, with a tense and exciting plot, and my father-in-law and I watched it every day. The most tense part was when the enemy was chasing a female underground Communist Party member. I stared at the TV, secretly worried for her, my hands sweating with nervousness.

The female underground Communist Party member ultimately couldn't escape the enemy's clutches and was pinned to the ground by four or five men, her arms twisted and bound behind her back. I let out a soft cry, my hand gripping something tightly beside me.

After a while, my father-in-law suddenly made a strange sound, and that's when I realized I was gripping his thigh. We both laughed sheepishly.

My father-in-law said he had tried to bear it, but it hurt too much, and he probably had a bruise.

I said, "Take it off, let me see."

My father-in-law pulled down his pants, and sure enough, there was a not-so-obvious finger mark on his upper thigh. I apologized as I gently stroked him, my fingers brushing against his manhood, which suddenly became erect.

I pointed to the TV and asked, "Do you like that?"

My father-in-law seemed confused and asked what I meant.

I said, "It's like when you tie up a woman, isn't it? You were watching that the other day and doing that."

I said it casually, but he took it to heart. His face flushed red, and he twitched unnaturally; his manhood instantly shrank and softened. Afraid he would have another episode, I quickly comforted him, saying it was my fault, not intentional, and that he shouldn't take it to heart.

My father-in-law listlessly went back to the bedroom, and I followed him in. I made him lie down, sat on the edge of the bed, and slipped his hand under my shirt to touch my breasts, constantly trying to soothe him.

I told him that when I was little, whenever I saw men tearing women's clothes, twisting their arms, or interrogating them by their hair in movies, I would get inexplicably excited. My father-in-law didn't believe me, saying I was making it up to amuse him.

I said, "Really, you can try it if you don't believe me."

My father-in-law said, "How can I try it?"

"Wait here." I got up and found a cotton rope, about three or four meters long, in the wardrobe drawer in the living room.

"Do you think this rope will work?" I handed the rope to my father-in-law, but he wouldn't take it, saying, "I dare not, I dare not."

I said, "It's okay, it's just a test, I'm willing."

Only then did my father-in-law take the rope and tie it around my hands behind my back, but he tied it loosely. I told him to tie it tighter, but he said the rope was thin and tying it too tight would hurt my skin.

I said, "Then go buy some rope tomorrow, buy whatever works well."

Speaking of rope, I remembered something. Once, I was tying a clothesline to a tree. I raised my arms high, stood on tiptoe, and fiddled with the rope for a long time but couldn't tie it properly. I wanted to ask my husband for help, but when I turned around, I saw my father-in-law staring at me intently. Our eyes met, and my father-in-law walked away awkwardly.

At the time, I didn't think much of it, but now I realize he must have been imagining me hanging up like that.

Why would my father-in-law have such a fetish? What does it feel like? With these questions in mind, I searched online using the company computer. Sadomasochism? SM? What is that? It seems bondage is closely related to SM and sadomasochism.

I clicked on a website, and soon a picture of a naked woman tightly bound popped up on the screen. I was so scared that I quickly closed it. My colleagues were all around; if they saw this, I would be terribly embarrassed.

After work, I deliberately took out some forms and scribbled on them, pretending to work overtime. My colleagues left one by one. I looked around to make sure no one was there, ran to lock the door, then ran back and found the website I had just visited and clicked on it.

I never imagined there were such things on the website. Those pictures of bound and masochistic women, every single one of them made my blood boil and my heart race…

When I got home, I asked my father-in-law if he had bought it. He pointed to the wardrobe and smiled. I secretly smiled too.

What's going on? Not only have we lost our generational ties, but we've also started playing a sadomasochistic game.

Just thinking about those steamy pictures makes me want to... well, you know. We've lost all interest in watching TV. After the kids went to sleep, we couldn't wait to go into my father-in-law's bedroom.

Looking at the rope, I teased him, saying, "You old rascal."

He paused for a moment, then replied, "Then why did you ask me to buy the rope?"

I said, "I told you to buy it, so you buy it? You're so obedient!"

He seemed a little unhappy. Sigh, I was just joking with him. It seems you can't joke around with old people so easily.

I quickly coaxed him, "You can do whatever you want today, okay?"

Finally, the hemp rope was tied around my body. My father-in-law bound me tightly, the rope digging into my flesh, and my body felt like it was on fire. What I couldn't bear most was that my father-in-law touched my genitals at this time, making my lower body wet. I was shocked; how could I be so sensitive to the rope?

For several days, that tingling, throbbing pleasure lingered in my mind, refusing to go away. Had I become bad, become wanton? I asked my father-in-law what was going on, why I had such a strong reaction, and he just chuckled.

"Do you have a reaction?" I asked him, and he said yes.

I asked again, "Did you often tie up your mother-in-law before?"

After a long while, my father-in-law said, "Back then, your mother said she had corrupted her."

My father-in-law's words once again aroused my curiosity, and I remembered his words of regret for his wife when he was young. I asked my father-in-law what exactly happened, and he pondered for a while before telling me about that past.

In the 1960s, the labor reform farms in Northwest China were short of correctional officers, and the public security system transferred a group of personnel from the inland areas to fill the gaps. My father-in-law was in his early twenties then, full of youthful vigor, and volunteered to go.

Thinking about it, it makes sense; people were simpler back then, responding to the Party's call. There's a saying, "Go wherever you're needed, settle wherever it's tough." My father-in-law said he went and stayed for over ten years.

The prisoners at the labor camp were mostly from inland areas, from all over the country, and had committed all sorts of crimes.

The armed company my father-in-law belonged to didn't directly manage the prisoners; they were only responsible for perimeter security. If a prisoner escaped, they were responsible for the pursuit.

The work at the labor camp was very heavy; the prisoners did all the heavy physical labor, such as clearing land, making adobe bricks, digging reservoirs, and repairing irrigation canals.

After working more than ten hours a day, they were almost exhausted, and the prisoners' food was very poor—two cornbread buns and a bowl of boiled vegetables per meal.

Because of the lack of oil and fat, they were always hungry, and many were malnourished, pale and thin.

Among the prisoners were honest ones and disobedient ones; the only way to deal with the disobedient ones was to drag them out and beat them.

Fearing retaliation, the prison guards didn't participate in the beatings; those were carried out by the armed company. Three or four men would wait in the small hut beforehand. As soon as the prisoner was brought inside, they would put a sack over the prisoner's head, hang them from the rafters, and whip them with armed belts.

My father-in-law said they were very experienced at beating people. When hanging someone, they would make sure their toes were just barely off the ground, to increase the victim's pain. When beating them, they wouldn't injure the flesh, only inflict internal injuries, so that they wouldn't be visible on the outside.

Life on the labor camp was monotonous and boring; more often than not, my father-in-law and his comrades just used the prisoners for amusement and thrills. They would strip someone naked, hang them up, and put a weight on their penis. In less than half an hour, the prisoner would obediently beg for mercy and become submissive.

Soon after, the Cultural Revolution began, with its networking, rebellion, and power grabs, creating chaos everywhere.

Once, a rebel group from another region started a violent clash, killing and injuring many people. The local police arrested several of their leaders, including a woman.

Before they could even be interrogated, a commotion broke out outside, completely surrounding the police station. They threatened to storm in and seize the women if they weren't released. Left with no other option, they were taken to an armed company and imprisoned that very night.

My father-in-law said that the woman wasn't pretty at all; she was large and burly, and had a terrible attitude, constantly throwing tantrums and cursing—clearly a shrew.

My father-in-law and his men had never been treated like this before, so they discussed how to deal with her. They usually dealt with prisoners, and always men; dealing with a woman would naturally make them happier and more excited.

That night, they took the woman into a small room, not even bothering to put a sack over her neck. Since it was dark, and only the moonlight streaming in from the window made it difficult to see her clearly,

they gagged her, stripped her naked, and hung her up. The woman stretched her legs, trying to reach the ground. After several attempts, only her toes barely touched the ground. Within minutes, she began to whimper in pain.

In the darkness, the man's hand reached for her breasts and genitals. The father-in-law said the woman's breasts were frighteningly large, drooping in front of her chest, feeling like cloth sacks.

Even so, they were excited; at least she was a woman, better than a sow.

The father-in-law's hand moved down her thigh, feeling something slippery and sticky on his hand. He smelled it—the fishy odor of male semen. He didn't know who had ejaculated there, and he himself felt a slight erection.

From then on, the father-in-law's desire for women intensified. Just then, a letter arrived from his hometown in Gansu, introducing him to a potential partner and asking him to return for a blind date. After the blind date, they finally established a relationship and married a year later. This woman was his mother.

After marriage, my in-laws lived apart for four or five years. Only after the birth of our second child, my current husband, did my father-in-law pull strings to get transferred back to work at the Guan Commune Police Station in the county.

If it weren't for one incident, my father-in-law and mother-in-law would have lived peacefully together, and there wouldn't have been any talk of "feeling sorry for my husband in my youth."

It turned out that when my father-in-law was young, he had a lover who enjoyed masochism. The two often played sadomasochistic games behind my mother-in-law's back. Finally, one day, their affair was discovered by my mother-in-law.

She said nothing and silently walked away. I truly admire my mother-in-law for this; she is a kind and understanding person. If it were me, I wouldn't be able to bear seeing my husband having an affair.

For a long time, my father-in-law dared not do anything more, staying obediently at home. My mother-in-law never mentioned it again, as if nothing had happened, which made my father-in-law very uneasy.

Then one day, my mother-in-law suddenly suggested that she try the experience of masochism.

My father-in-law said he couldn't believe it at first, thinking my mother-in-law hadn't forgiven him and was deliberately testing him.

Only after she repeatedly begged did he tie her up.

From then on, the old couple enjoyed it immensely, always doing it late at night when they were deeply in love. My father-in-law said that when his mother was young, she loved being hung up; it felt particularly humiliating and exciting.

Oh, no wonder! That day when I was tying the rope, my father-in-law kept looking at me; he must have thought I was my mother-in-law being hung up. Hehe…

Looking at my father-in-law's blissful and longing expression, I gently tapped his forehead with my finger and said with a smile, "You're so naughty! Not only have you corrupted your own wife, but you'll corrupt your daughter-in-law sooner or later too." Humph!

My father-in-law laughed like a child, his face beaming with smugness.

"Don't laugh!" I actually started to act coquettishly in front of him. My father-in-law picked up the rope and asked if I wanted to try again. I said, "Can you do it like you did with my mother-in-law?"

My father-in-law didn't understand at first and asked me, "Like that?"

I pointed to the roof beam, "Just like that, hang up there..."

Hanging up there, I finally understood the humiliation and excitement my mother-in-law had described. My hands, bound by hemp rope, were tightly pulled to the roof beam, my naked body exposed without any cover in front of my father-in-law. I stood on tiptoe, struggling to support my suspended body...

But my father-in-law squatted down facing me, spread my legs with his hands, and brought his head close, opening his mouth to suck on my labia minora, licking them a few times with his tongue, then pulling them outwards with his lips.

Instantly, I felt extremely excited, my vaginal fluids gushing out continuously, my whole body itching, like being on fire, but being bound, I couldn't struggle, so I could only keep twisting my body, my legs tightly clamping my father-in-law's head.

My father-in-law's tongue swept back and forth across my genitals like a brush, occasionally pushing hard into my vagina. Because my child was at home, I dared not moan, keeping my mouth tightly shut and trying not to make a sound. When I couldn't hold it in any longer, I opened my mouth wide and gasped for breath.

My father-in-law stood up again, walked behind me, brought a chair for me to stand on so I could maintain my squatting position, then knelt on the ground, tilted his head back, and actually began licking my anus.

I never imagined that having my anus licked could feel so good; my whole body felt like it was being electrocuted, and my anus tightened and spasmed in waves.

While licking, my father-in-law inserted two fingers of his left hand into my vagina, and then rapidly vibrated my clitoris with his right hand. Suddenly, my entire body began to tremble rhythmically from my genitals, and I couldn't even control my bladder; I urinated. My mind went blank, and I passed out from an intense orgasm.

I don't know how much time passed, but when I woke up, I opened my eyes to see my father-in-law's pale face.

"Finally awake, that was terrible,"

I smiled weakly and went back to sleep.

After that day, my relationship with my father-in-law became even more tender; the way he looked at me was like looking at a daughter and also like looking at a lover.

Sometimes, when the mood struck, after the children fell asleep, my father-in-law and I would masturbate and perform oral sex on each other, but we never actually had sex. Perhaps we were both afraid of breaking the taboo of incest.

No matter how much I tried to persuade him, he refused to play bondage games with me again. After that bondage experience, I never experienced such intense orgasms again.

Two years later, my father-in-law passed away. Before he died, he held my husband's and my hands and told him that I was a good woman and that he should treat me well for the rest of his life.

My husband cried, and I cried too.

(The End)

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My Father-in-Law and I

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