The beginning of mother-in-law becoming the object of sexual fantasies

At the beginning of this year, my wife's job transfer led to us living apart as we entered our marriage anniversary. In order to ease the pressure of the mortgage, after being persuaded by my wife, father-in-law and mother-in-law, I rented out the house I originally bought near my wife's family and moved to my father-in-law's house.

My father-in-law's family is entirely female, except for him, who is the only male member. After he retired and my wife and I got married, my wife's two younger sisters also went to work in other cities, only coming home occasionally. It's because he's so nagging, always complaining about everything. After I moved in, although I didn't have to listen to his nagging anymore, his serious and bossy personality after his military retirement made me feel somewhat uncomfortable. Fortunately, my mother-in-law is very considerate, always treating me like a son, caring for me and asking about my well-being. She'll inquire about my work whenever she feels like it, and like my wife and her sisters, I'll have coffee with her before bed and chat, taking the opportunity to complain about my father-in-law's nagging.

A few months later, sometimes when I got off work earlier than my mother-in-law, she would ask me to help her collect the laundry. I, too, initially insisted on washing my own clothes, but then accepted my mother-in-law doing the laundry for me. (My father-in-law is a clean freak; he insists on hand-washing his own clothes to feel comfortable. And since my mother-in-law just throws the washing machine away anyway, I figured I might as well trouble her.)

As time went on, I actually started to have the illusion that I was her child. With the same kind of attachment I had to my mother during adolescence, I started to act spoiled. My mother-in-law would often come over to me, touch me, or massage my shoulders. This change made my wife, who had always hoped that I would integrate into her family, feel gratified.

"Mom has to deal with Dad's constant nagging and dissatisfaction about life, family, and my sister's job all by herself. She finally found motivation in you, so you have to take good care of her for me." After a short separation and some passionate moments as a couple on our weekend, my wife said to me coquettishly, "Honey, I want more~ I want you to do it to me now." That was the last thing she said. What followed was only moaning and the primal sounds of flesh touching.

I pulled my left hand away from my wife's pillow, and the post-coital thirst made me unconsciously get up. Passing by my wife, who was sound asleep with soft snores, I noticed the bedroom door was ajar. My first thought was, "Oh no, will my mother-in-law hear me?" I quickly tiptoed to my father-in-law's door to check. After confirming it was closed, I sighed as if in relief, softly saying, "Thank goodness, home is here..." It sounded more like a self-consoling lament.

I noticed a set of women's underwear, freshly unpacked and laid flat, on the living room sofa. My mother-in-law habitually buys underwear from the shopping counter. She ordered it for my wife as well. Even now, after we've started our own families, my mother-in-law still buys a set of sanitary napkins and underwear for my wife (her younger sisters always complain that it's old-fashioned and tell her not to buy them next time). That evening at dinner, I secretly complained to my wife not to wear that to bed, saying it would turn her from a gentle lady into a witch, and she pinched my thigh. Since I started dating my wife, I've always felt that she and my mother-in-law look incredibly alike. "Your wife looks just like her mother. They both have such a great presence. I can only imagine what your wife will look like in ten or twenty years." This is what a very close female colleague of mine said when she attended my wedding.

I smiled at the time, but it wasn't until I moved in that I realized how true those words were. She was willing to sacrifice for her family in every way, and she would do whatever her husband asked. At most, she would complain behind his back; her husband was her everything.

Thinking back, lately my mother-in-law has been unintentionally bending over, revealing her inner beauty and ample bosom. At the time, I always thought it was my imagination, that her breasts seemed larger than my wife's. Now, holding it in my hand and examining it closely, I see the bra label says D34/D75. My wife's bras have already been taken back to the room. This must be my mother-in-law's.

He must have lost his mind, otherwise why would he be holding his mother-in-law's new bra, walking up to his father-in-law's bedroom door, and blurting out, "A-Fen (my father-in-law's nickname for my mother-in-law), I know you were peeping just now. Ruru's moans are so lewd, aren't they? Mom, your son-in-law's laziness will make you feel so good. Mom, I want you to have a child for me. Let's see who gets pregnant first, you or Ruru."

Instead of the saintly composure that should have followed the passion, I found myself igniting lust in my self-talk. What surprised me afterwards was that the words I uttered were something I had never considered before. I also realized that now that we are family living under the same roof, it's best not to act rashly while indulging in fantasies... I don't want to lose everything I have.

Back in bed, watching my wife's happy smile as she slept, I interlaced my fingers and tilted my head back. Suddenly, the image of my wife trying on the bra my mother-in-law had bought earlier that day flashed through my mind. "Does it look good? It's not tacky at all," my mother-in-law's voice suddenly rang out, even though it was clearly my wife trying it on. Startled, I sat bolt upright in bed.

My wife looked at me sleepily and gently asked what was wrong. "I had a nightmare," I said casually. She turned on the nightlight on the bedside table. She hooked her arm around mine, a fleeting look in her eyes, followed by a shy, knowing smile. "Looks like it wasn't a nightmare, it was a wet dream." My wife got up and pushed me down. In just a few seconds of blankness, my wife pulled down my pajama pants. Her hand took my erect penis out of my underwear, gently stroked it a few times, and then her warm, moist mouth enveloped it. As her skillful tongue licked my penis from bottom to top, she made a "hissing" sound.

"Who did my husband dream about? Could it be Sister Shuling?" That was a story provided by a netizen who wanted to experience cuckoldry. Dressed up as the smiling "Sister Shuling" in the photo, my wife and I played role-playing scenarios of having an affair after a meeting in motels many times.

"I won't tell!" "Tell me!" After several of these meaningless and childish exchanges between husband and wife, "It's you," I said, helping my wife kiss her cheek. "You're so annoying," my wife playfully slapped my arm, then took off her underwear, straddled me, and, holding my still-saliva-covered penis, took a deep breath, gently lowered herself, and the erect glans "plop" sank into her body. "Oh...husband," my wife bit the hem of her nightgown that she had lifted. The only sounds in the room were the slapping of flesh against flesh, the thud of the spring bed, and the direct vibrations of the impact.

From the riding position, I was looking at my wife's body, but what I was thinking was that my mother-in-law was petite, just like my wife. She liked to wear dresses and high heels. Her legs were well-proportioned, but she didn't take care of them as much as my wife, and she liked wearing makeup more. My mother-in-law had big breasts, and I wondered what it would feel like to grab them. I wondered if my mother-in-law, this beautiful woman, was a slut in bed. I fantasized about her picking me up and making me into a train bento box.

"Honey, are you about to cum? This time it's been so long, my legs are giving way," my wife's soft moans pulled me back to reality. "I need to take advantage of the long weekend to satisfy my wife, otherwise she might forget what her husband looks like," I suddenly pulled her up and kissed her, then lifted her thighs and headed for the bedroom door. Caught off guard by the train-shaped stool blocking the door, she clung to me even tighter. I ejaculated in no time.

"Who did you dream about, honey?" My wife gently wiped the sweat off my body with a wet wipe.

It's a secret.

"Wife, do you want to know? Do you want to know who made your husband so brave?"

It's you.

"Come on, your lecherous husband never treats me that roughly."

"You prefer it a bit rougher?"

"Only my husband can."

The sound of splashing water mingled with my wife's deep snores as I finished showering. I kissed her forehead with a guilty smile.

"Wife, the plot of my wet dream is that I want to sleep with your mother, your father's wife, my mother-in-law." I turned off the nightlight and immediately drifted off to sleep.

It was 4:50 a.m., the second day of this year's National Day holiday.

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