Rachel sighed as she looked at herself in the mirror. Eight months of marriage, and already her husband had been deployed overseas for for two of the next nine months. It seemed like a lifetime, and she missed him terribly. Her insecurity about her weight, never quite gone since high school, had returned with a vengeance. She knew she should lose some weight, but with her husband gone and her father-in-law dropping by almost every day to help around the house, she had found it hard to muster the willpower.
The old man had always been a bit forward, even before she'd married into the family. His eyes seemed to linger just a fraction of a second too long on her 40GG breasts whenever he came into a room, and he had a habit of "accidentally" brushing against her whenever they were standing close together. His hugs, including the one at the wedding, are always a little too long and too tight. Rachel knew she should say something, but she didn't want to make things awkward for him, her husband, or for herself. After all, he was her father-in-law, and he had been nothing but kind to her since the day she'd met his son.
Despite herself, Rachel couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement whenever she saw him approach. She had used the experiences of guys pursuing her as a way to fend off her insecurities. And many times those experiences led to pleasure. And there was something about the way he moved, the strength in his arms as he lifted heavy objects, and the way he looked at her that made her heart race. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn't help occasionally giving in and fantasizing about what it would be like to feel those muscles against her own soft curves. She tried to push the thoughts away, to focus on the fact that her husband was half a world away, and that she should be faithful to him, but they kept coming back, taunting her.
Her father-in-law had always been something of a womanizer. His wife had divorced him years ago, citing his inability to be monogamous as the main reason. He had even gone so far as to have sex with two of his ex-wife's sisters, a fact that only added fuel to the fire of Rachel's late-night fantasies. She couldn't help but wonder how he had successfully seduced them and what it would be like to be pursued by him that way. She loved being married, but at times missed the feeling of being wanted and pursued by other men.
It didn't help that her husband had always been so considerate of her feelings. He had never pressured her into anything sexual, and had always made sure to ask first. In some ways, it made their intimate moments all the more special, but it also left her feeling like she was missing out on something. To make it even worse, her husband was.... undersized. He was so sweet and so kind she thought the size of his penis wouldn't bother her. But even her feelings on this seemed to be changing in his absence.
Rachel couldn't deny that against her own values she still occasionally fantasized about her father-in-law taking her roughly, possessing her in a way that her husband never could. She imagined him pinning her against the wall, his strong arms holding her tight as he kissed her deeply, his rough stubble scratching her skin. She pictured him undoing the buttons of her shirt, revealing his 38-GG chest, then lowering himself down, his face pressing against her breasts. She fantasized about feeling the weight of him, the power in his movements, as he ravaged her, claiming her as his own. They were forbidden thoughts and she swore she would stop thinking about him. But he stopped by multiple times per week, and after each time the thoughts returned and with them an ache between her legs for more.
One day, after a particularly exhausting morning of cleaning the house, her father-in-law paused in the kitchen to refill his water glass. Rachel, still wearing a thin, cotton tank top and a pair of yoga pants, found herself unable to look away from him as he moved. She watched as his eyes flickered down to her chest, lingering on the curves of her breasts before traveling slowly up to meet her gaze. For a moment, she thought he might say something, but instead, he simply smiled at her, a knowing smile that sent a shiver down her spine.
Her heart pounding, she tried to maintain her composure, but found herself unable to resist the urge to step closer to him. Their bodies brushed against each other, and she could feel the heat emanating from his skin. He took a step back, leaning casually against the counter, his eyes never leaving hers.
"Rachel," he whispered, his voice low and husky, "I can't help but wonder what it would be like..."
Before she could react, he was suddenly there, his lips pressing against hers, his tongue demanding entry into her mouth. She gasped, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensation, as his hands moved to grasp her hips, pulling her even closer. His behavior was so different from her husband's, and so similar to the boys and men in her past. His strength was intoxicating, and she found herself melting into his embrace, returning his kiss with a passion she didn't know she possessed. She knew she should stop. But, she felt overwhelmed with a surge of lust that clouded her brain.
He broke the kiss, breathing heavily, and looked into her eyes.
"You are so beautiful. Please just let me..." he whispered, lifting the hem of her shirt above her heavy bra, trailing a finger down her cheek, "Please just let me see them." And without another word, he reached around and unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the floor.
Her breasts were revealed, and he groaned, cupping them in his large hands. She felt insecure for a moment as they fell, heavy, hanging. But he lowered his head, taking one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking gently before nipping at it with his teeth and her concerns washed away in pleasure. Rachel arched her back, moaning loudly, her hands tangling in his hair.
"Fuck, yes," he growled, moving to the other breast and treating it to the same attention. He licked and sucked, teased and nipped, as if he were trying to draw every last drop of pleasure from her breasts. She was drowning in the sensation, her body on fire with need. She didn't want him to stop... his hands on her chest felt soo good. But, with all the willpower she could muster she breathed out, "We should stop. This is wrong."
Her father-in-law looked up at her, his expression a mix of lust and regret. His fingers continued to move against her skin, tracing lazy circles around her nipples before moving lower, down her flat stomach, and over her rib cage. He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting hers as if he was trying to gauge her reaction. She could feel his erection pressing against the fabric of his pants, and it only served to make her wetter.
She bit her lip, trying to decide what to say or do. Part of her wanted to push him away, to remind herself that this was wrong. But another part of her, a part of her that she had repressed since meeting her husband, craved his touch, his words. She could feel herself growing wetter between her legs as he continued to tease her.
Her father-in-law, sensing her confusion, stepped closer, his erection pressing against her hip.
"You know you want this, Rachel. You've always been so beautiful. It's like your body was made for a man like me." He reached up, cupping and roughly squeezing her breast, teasing her nipple with his thumb. "You need this pleasure. Your body craves it... do you like your tits worked over, Rachel? Walking around every day with these big fat girls bouncing around has been killing me. They NEED to be touched. And I need to touch them."
His words sent a shiver down her spine. She couldn't deny the truth in them. Her breasts did ache for attention, and she couldn't help but feel aroused by his touch. But she couldn't give in. This was wrong, so wrong. She should push him away, but her body refused to cooperate.
"I-I can't..." she stammered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart.
But he just leaned in and sucked her nipple into his mouth, smashing, rolling, and squeezing her tit-flesh in his hands.
Her breath hitched, and her knees went weak. She wanted him to stop, and she wanted him to never stop. The feeling of being so completely dominated, of being nothing more than a body for his pleasure, was overwhelming. He released her nipple, only to move lower, to her stomach. His fingers traced a path down her flat abdomen, teasing the thin fabric of her yoga pants.
"I know women like you, Rachel. You need fucked and my son will be gone for months. Better me, than some stupid young punk that could mess up your marriage."
He cupped her through her pants and panties, his fingers sliding easily pushing the fabric up into her slit.
"You're wet for me, aren't you?" His voice was a husky growl in her ear. "You want me to touch you here, don't you?"
She whimpered in response, pushing her hips forward, as he slipped a finger into her groove.. just thin fabric between her pussy and her father-in-law's finger. He thrust his finger along the slit, hard and deep, while his other hand cupped her breast, pinching her nipple roughly. "You're so wet for me, Rachel. You're leaking through your pants."
He slid his fingers up to the elastic waistline...
"I want to see it, Rachel. Do you want me to see it? Do you want to show that wet pussy to your husband's daddy? Hmm, Rach?"
She barely nodded, but it was enough for him to smile and reach out both hands on the top of the fabric. she gasped at the feeling of being so completely submissive to him. He tugged her pants and panties down, exposing her bald, smooth skin to the cool air of the room, her wet folds glistening in the light.
He leaned in, breath hot against her skin as he whispered, "You're so beautiful, Rachel. Your pussy is perfect... just like your fat tits. You are made to be fucked. You're made for a man like me."
Her body trembled under his touch, her hips moving involuntarily as she arched her back, offering herself up to him. He pushed her yoga pants and panties further down, baring her ass as well, and she felt a shiver of desire course through her. She wanted him to touch her there, to feel the tight, hot skin of her ass. That has always been an erogenous zone for her. She wanted him to fuck her, to make her his. It had been so long since she had been really taken, fucked hard by a needy man. She was completely intoxicated with lust.
He moved his hands back up, cupping her breasts once more, squeezing and massaging them roughly.
"These are perfect for my hands, Rachel. They're made to be squeezed and sucked. You're made for a man's touch."
His thumbs brushed over her nipples, teasing them into hard, aching peaks.
"You like that, don't you? You like feeling my touch on your tits, making them hurt, making them hard."
She couldn't speak, couldn't breathe, as he continued to torment her breasts. Her hips bucked forward, seeking more of his touch, his words.
"You want me to do more, don't you? You want me to make you feel good, make you forget everything else."
He leaned down, kissing her neck, nipping at her skin.
"I can do that, Rachel. I can make you forget my son, forget everything except how good you feel. I can make your pussy mine."
As wrong as that statement was, she still felt her pussy convulse, clenching.
He released her breasts, only to slide his hand down her stomach, to her hip. His fingers slipped between her legs, finding her slick, swollen folds.