It was losing his mother that started the trouble for Joseph. They'd had a normal relationship, at least compared to other mothers and sons he had seen. She was affectionate, and he'd loved her, but he hadn't really had fantasies about her. At least, he convinced himself that he hadn't. But after she died, he grieved for her more than he expected to. Marla, his wife, displayed her usual selfish attitude, acting as if his pain was a personal attack. They're already strained relationship became even more strained.

A month after the funeral came Thanksgiving. They went to Marla's parents' house. Marla's family was not typical, in Joseph's eyes. Charlene, Marla's mother, was a quiet woman, soft spoken, and totally dominated by her husband, Henry. Joseph felt sorry for her. Henry had been a farmer most of his life, finally retiring after selling the farm to a big corporation. They lived frugally on the proceeds, which drove Marla's younger sister, Avril, crazy.

She was a rebel in every since of the word and couldn't have been more opposite from her mother. Spiked, bleached hair, heavy makeup and clothes strategically torn to show off tantalizing glimpses of milk-white flesh. She flirted with Joseph every time they were alone and bragged about her sexual experiences. Marla was prim like her mother but pigheaded like her father. Sometimes Joseph couldn't remember why he'd asked her to marry him.

After the meal, Marla and Henry retired to the living room to watch football. Avril stomped her way down the hall to her room. Charlene disappeared into the kitchen to clean up, and no one volunteered to help her. So Joseph did.

"Thank you," Charlene said softly when he joined her at the sink, drying the dishes as she washed them. "Joseph, I'm really sorry about your mother. I wish there was something I could do to ease your pain."

"Thank you, Charlene, but I'll be okay," he told her. But he wasn't okay.

Just the reminder of his mother's passing brought up a lump in his throat. Charlene, sensitive to such things, turned to him and put her arms around him. She drew his head down to her shoulder, patting his back.

"There, there," she said. "You let it out. I won't tell anyone."

He began to cry. He put his arms around her tightly, ashamed of his weakness, but she didn't seem bothered by it at all. Marla would have been ridiculing him by now. Why couldn't his own wife offer him comfort like this? When was the last time they simply held each other, anyway?

He found himself comparing Charlene to her daughter, noting how different she felt in his arms. Soft, a little pudgy, the opposite of her stick-thin daughter. Warm. Fragrant. He could get lost in an embrace like this.

But that was a bad idea. Not only was Charlene twenty-five years older than him, she was his mother-in-law. He had no prejudice about her body, about her being overweight, wearing glasses, dressing like a farmer's wife even with the farm long gone. Even her age, he realized, wouldn't bother him. She was an attractive woman, attractive in a way that women like Marla could never be.

Suddenly, he found himself sporting an erection without realizing it was happening. Charlene continued to hug him tightly, so he knew she could feel his bulge pressing into her. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

"It's okay," she said. "I understand."

"I mean, you know."

She laughed gently. "I know what you mean," she said. "Don't be embarrassed. I'm kind of flattered. I'm the same age your mother was, you know."

"Yeah, I know," he said, feeling another surge of loss. Tempered, this time, by Charlene's embrace.

"I know you'll miss her," Charlene said. "But, maybe, if you want, you could just pretend I'm your mother. I don't mind."

It was his turn to laugh gently. "That's sweet, Charlene," he said, and it was. "But I don't know if I can do that."

"Why not?"

"Well, for starters, Mom never gave me a boner."

She laughed, but it sounded forced. "It's been a long time since I gave any man a boner," she said. She tripped over the last word, something she wasn't used to saying. "I guess I couldn't be your mother if-if, you know, I'm turning you on."

She glanced up at him shyly as if afraid. Had she said the wrong thing? Jumped to a mistaken conclusion? He stared into her eyes through the lenses of her glasses, seeing how green her eyes were for the first time. It wasn't lust he felt in that moment, not love either, so he wasn't sure what motivated him to kiss her.

He cupped her face and lowered his lips to hers. She tilted her head in ready acceptance, her eyes fluttering closed, and she whimpered softly right before they made contact. Her lips were full and soft, her tongue wet and eager. She kissed as if she didn't have much experience at it, which surprised him when he considered her age. Then again, knowing what kind of man Henry was, he shouldn't have been surprised at all.

He really wasn't sure what he was doing as he ran his hand down her arm, to her side, back up to brush her breast. She groaned into the kiss. He took that as a sign of encouragement and cupped her breast firmly. She had large breasts, much larger than Marla's, the biggest he'd ever had in his hand. Already her nipples were erect, telling him she had been wanting this from the start.

How long, he wondered? How long had she desired him like this? It was exciting to think about. He turned her so that he could press her against the cabinets. She wasn't so heavy that he couldn't lift her up onto the counter. Her heels dug into his thighs as he pressed himself between her legs.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked her.

"Are you?" she asked in return. His answer was a smile and to lower his head to her chest. She gasped and clutched at his hair as he showered her chest with kisses, pulling down the front of her dress as far as he could to reach more of her tits. He moved onto the cloth so he could use his teeth on her nipples.

She dug her heels in harder. She'd slipped off her shoes when he picked her up, he realized, and he reached down to slide his hands over her nylon covered legs. Running his hands back up, they passed beneath the hem of her dress into forbidden territory.

She stiffened but didn't stop him.

"Charlene, does Henry ever lick your pussy?" he whispered.

"Oh, my god!" she gasped, covering her mouth, nearly knocking her own glasses off. Her reaction told him the answer.

"I'm going to eat you, Charlene," he told her. "I'm going to lick your pussy until you cum so fucking hard."

The language he chose was having a profound effect on her. No one had ever spoken to her like that, he'd be willing to bet. "Not-not here," she managed to say between pants. "They might catch us!"

He thought quickly. Doing this with his mother-in-law was crazy to start with, but she was right. They could get caught and then there would be all kinds of hell to pay. Stepping away from her surprised her. She closed her legs, pushing down her dress nervously. He took her hand and tugged. "Come on," he said.

"What? Where?" she asked even as she slid off the counter. He waited for her to put her flat shoes back on before leading her to the back door and out. This time of year the day ended early and it was already dark outside. The air was chilly and made them both shiver. He went to the first shelter he saw. Henry's truck.

"No! Not there!" she protested as he opened the door to the old Chevrolet.

"Yes, here," he said. He pushed her in front of him, determined that she could get in or he'd take her right here.

Charlene hesitated, then crawled into the cab. Joseph followed. They were both shaking, and he knew it wasn't all from the cold. He guided her onto her back and moved atop her. This was probably a position she was familiar with, he thought. Henry seemed the type to be a missionary only man. But Joseph would bet the old man never kissed his wife while he was on top of her, not like Joseph did.

Henry wouldn't move down quickly, pushing up her dress so he could tug at her pantyhose. Charlene wasn't used to it, but she lifted up, allowed him to pull the hose and her panties both down to her thighs. Joseph lifted her legs up and back. In the light from the back porch light, he could just make out her pussy.

Charlene had a lot of gray in her hair, but her natural color was chestnut. That was reflected in the thick bush she had between her legs. A bush that had never been trimmed or shaved, but remained naturally thick and, somehow, contained. She was wet, he could see that in the way light glistened on her distended labia. Eagerly, wanting to do it before he lost his nerve, he bent and covered her pussy with his mouth.

He was glad they were outside and shut up in the truck because the instant he stabbed his tongue into her labia, Charlene screamed. She clamped a hand over her mouth and convulsed. She was having an orgasm, that quickly. Excitement, the thrill of being naughty, of crossing taboo boundaries, it got to her. Added to that the sensation of the first ever tongue to be on her pussy, and she exploded.

He waited for her orgasm to wane before really going to work. This was something he knew he did very well. Many times, Marla demanded cunnilingus in exchange for a handjob instead of having normal sex. This was the first time he'd ever been thankful for it. Years of lapping his wife's pussy had made his tongue strong, and had given it endurance. He slurped Charlene's mature pussy, licking and suckling, nibbling, nuzzling, pushing his tongue into her before circling her clit while his finger entered her instead.

He didn't really need stamina with her. She came again after only a few minutes, and a third time before the five minute mark. At least he thought it had been five minutes. They shouldn't be outside for long. Time for the prize. He rose up onto her knees while she panted for breath, dropping her stocking feet to the bench seat beneath her. She watched silently as he freed his cock. He pushed his pants only to his knees. That was as far as they needed to go.

He lifted her legs again, bending them back, making her grunt, but she didn't protest. His cock was painfully hard and he missed on the first thrust. She didn't mind that at all. His cock slid over her clit, right through her wet labia, making her moan again. The second thrust found home and he sank into her. She groaned deeply as he filled her. Most of his cock went into her mature hole on the first try. He pulled back slightly and shoved in, burying himself.

"Oh, Christ Jesus!" she cried out, clawing at him.

"I'm fucking you, Charlene," he said, plunging in and out of her wildly. He slammed into her again and again, frenzied. Orgasm was already surging through him. "Tell me what I'm doing, Charlene. Say it!"

"You're-you're-you're fucking me!" she said. Then, as if using the "F" word was the ultimate turn on, she came.

He felt her pussy clamp around him and buried himself in her, his cock pulsing and spewing hot cum. He groaned and felt every nerve ending in his body sparking like a downed electrical cable. She shuddered beneath him, face scrunched up, lost in an orgasmic haze. Finally he was spent and so was she. He pulled out of her, surprised to discover that he remained erect. Gently, he lowered her legs before laying over her to kiss her again.

"That was incredible," he told her.

"Oh, Jesus, yes," she agreed. "Is this... Will you want to do it again?"

"Now?" he joked.

"Could you?" she asked, sounding serious.

He thought about it. "Probably," he said.

"Oh, sweet Jesus," she moaned. "No, I meant, you know, will we do this again. Lots of agains."

"I'm willing if you are," he said. "I'd love to fuck you again."

She moaned, hearing that word again. "Tomorrow," she said. "What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Fucking you," he said. She giggled. "What time?" he asked. "Where?"

"Noon," she said. "Just come here. Henry is always gone in the middle of the day."

"I'll be here," he said.

They got out of the truck on wobbly legs. They reeked of sex, but the truck stank worse. He left one window cracked to air it out and helped Charlene get her pantyhose back into place before they slipped back inside. No one missed them.

When he headed home that night, Joseph didn't feel like grieving anymore.