My Forbidden First Time with Mother-in-Law on the Pebble Beach
Pebbles crunched under our feet as we hit that secluded spot by the Cèze river. Heart hammering like a drum in my chest. Huguette ahead, her short flouncy skirt swaying. We’d driven in silence after ditching the flea market excuse. Her garter belt flash earlier—white skin above black lace—had my cock straining. No turning back now. Months of stolen glimpses: thighs flashing when she crouched for my son, her string riding up, pussy lips outlined in white lace that morning squat. I’d jerked off to it nightly, hating how I craved her. Fought it at first—her my wife’s mom, over 50 but gym-toned, perky tits, firm ass. But those eyes caught me staring. Now, alone, beach empty, sun warming the valley. She spreads a thin blanket. ‘Help me?’ Voice husky. Kneel at her feet, unstrap heels. Hands shake. Slide off skirt—matching lace thong hugs her cameltoe, pubes peeking. Roll down stockings slow, fingers grazing silky thighs. She moans soft. Unclip garter belt back there, nose inches from her musky heat. Breath catches. Heart races—fear of getting caught mixes with throbbing need. She’s my mother-in-law, damn it. But cock leaks pre-cum. She squats, kisses me fierce, tongue invading. We tumble, roll on rough stones. Push too far? She stops me gentle. ‘Cream first.’ Flip her prone, nude now—thong off, bra gone. Admire her: toned back, round ass relaxed. Squeeze lotion, massage shoulders, flanks brush tit sides. Down to cheeks, spread ’em. Dark bush guards swollen lips, glistening. Anus puckers. Dip tongue in crack—salty, forbidden. She gasps. Kneel between thighs, lap her slit. Juicy, tangy flood. Suck clit, finger ass. She bucks, cums hard, thighs quake. Flip her, 69 her dripping cunt on my face. She grinds, spasms again. No cock relief—just her taste on my lips.
Body slick with sweat, her on back now. Eyes lock—green fire. ‘Again?’ She arches obscene, ass up. Dive in, rim her loosened hole, tongue-fuck it slick. Fingers plunge pussy, stretch her. She screams release, collapses. Kiss deep, her flavor shared. No penetration—yet. That rule holds, cock spurting in boxers untouched. She dresses quick, tits hidden. ‘Not ready.’ Drive back, her hand squeezes thigh. Lips brush mine last. Clean face with wipes—smell her still.
The Approach: Tension and No Turning Back
That beach broke me. Innocence gone—lusted after family before, but acted? Never. Now addicted. Nights with wife mechanical, mind on Huguette’s wetness. Tension eases into hunger. She leads, I follow. Weeks later, full fuck on terrace—bareback, her walls milking me. But beach was birth: nervous boy to man craving taboo. No regret, just pulse-quickening wait for next flash, next taste. Secret binds us, family blind. Life sharper, hornier. Irreversible.
