From the moment I first saw her, I instinctively knew Mary-Jayne was trouble. She can't help it, she exudes sex.
When they first started dating, I wondered if my stepson worried about her dressing like she did. To call her attire daring is an understatement. And my wife, who is broad-minded, couldn't understand why her well-mannered, soft-hearted little boy, as she often refers to him, chose to marry someone who dressed like she was constantly on the prowl.
On family vacations, Mary-Jayne wears revealing dresses or the skimpiest of bikinis, and everywhere she goes, heads turn. Although I understand my wife's objections, I'm still a man and, to be honest, that young woman certainly has a body worth flaunting.
Tall and curvy — a beautiful rack and narrow hips — she's slightly heavier than the general conception of the healthy American girl next door, but the overall effect is a joy to behold. If my stepson enjoys having his wife parade herself around, despite his mother's objections, who am I to worry about it? I just lay back and admire the view as the saying goes. I'm too old and wise to get myself embroiled in arguments like that… at least, I thought I was.
If my wife ever found out that I ogle our daughter-in-law, I'd be six feet under in a New York minute. Does that stop me being stupid? Hell no. To make matters worse, Mary-Jayne, the dirty bitch, seems to take a perverse pleasure in making things uncomfortable for me, every opportunity she gets, especially after catching me looking up her skirt a while back when she was sitting opposite me.
I'm not proud of myself and I know it's my own fault, but she doesn't have to rub my face in it. Maybe she likes the idea of me looking. After all, when she caught me, instead of getting angry and putting me in my place, she winked and spread her knees further apart. Jesus, I had difficulty keeping it in my pants that day.
If the truth is told, I think she gets turned on when guys lust after her while hubby is only a few feet away. It gets her motor running. Whatever, I really don't care, I was just glad she never called me out or made a scene.
If only it had stayed that way…
~o0o~
"Dan, don't forget Mary-Jayne's coming round this evening to cut our hair. She's doing mine first so that I can go to the church book club, then she'll do yours. Shouldn't take too long, you haven't got that much to cut."
"Okay, doll," I grumbled from behind the newspaper while my wife cleaned the breakfast table.
"Are you listening to me?" She annoyingly poked the paper to get my attention.
"Uh?"
Grabbing the paper out of my hands, she made me repeat her instructions, checking to see if I'd really been listening. "And don't you dare think about going to Smokey's for a couple, otherwise you'll be there all night and Mary-Jayne has better things to do than wait around on you."
I nodded absently and reached for the paper again. Seemingly satisfied I'd understood her, she busied herself cleaning the kitchen before she, too, had to leave for work.
~o0o~
The beers had tasted just fine, like an angel peeing on my tongue, especially because they were drunk in defiance. But, to ensure I wasn't totally in the dog house, I didn't stay too long at Smokey's. No point in pissing off the old lady for nothing. Anyway, as I stepped out of the pickup, I saw the little Nissan parked next to our station wagon and knew I wasn't too late.
Entering the house, I heard my wife talking in the kitchen. At the kitchen doorway, I saw my wife getting ready to leave and my daughter-in-law was sitting relaxed at the kitchen table. She greeted me and I had to admit, she looked good.
Her hair was tousled, a style I find irresistible, and her small halter top was having difficulty containing her bosom. Considering she wasn't wearing a bra, it was no surprise. A pair of short, denim cutoffs looked like they'd been sprayed on. They emphasized her figure perfectly, allowing a dirty old goat like me to admire her shapely legs without any trouble. The smile she flashed, could have meant nothing or anything to anybody else — but the mischievous glint in her eyes told me enough.
"Hi Dan," she said, waving enthusiastically, her unrestricted breasts quivering beneath her top. I took in the sight but pretended not to for the benefit of the old lady. I swallowed. My mouth felt suddenly dry and blood raced to my loins.
"Howdy, MJay, been waiting long?" I said, noticing the empty beer bottles on the table. I moved toward the fridge to get one for myself and saw her shake her head.
"Want another one, MJay?" I asked while the old lady finished packing her bag.
"Sure, why not, Dan? Lord knows it's hotter than a stripper's crotch today, and another cold beer sounds just fine."
I smiled at the euphemism while my wife stared at her with something akin to disdain. I decided to play with fire.
"Now, now MJay, you know ladies aren't supposed to talk like that." I glanced at my old lady. She was regarding me venomously, so I looked back at the younger woman. Then we both laughed.
"Whoever said I was a lady?" Mary-Jayne retorted. "Sure as hell I never did," she added, giving my old lady a sly sideways glance. The expected reaction wasn't long in coming.
"You two are as bad as one and another," she said, although the irritation was largely for effect. "Now you've both had your fun at my expense, I'll be off to my book club and I hope I never see you again." We laughed louder at the false indignation. "Thank you, Mary, for everything… and I'll leave you in the hands of… of…"
"Me," I interrupted, "your loving husband."
Casting a beady eye over us again, she sniffed in disdain but couldn't keep a smile of affection off her face. Despite her objections to the way MJay dressed, she'd accepted her son's wife and loved her like her own child.
She kissed our daughter-in-law goodbye and then straightened up to kiss me. "Now Dan, you behave yourself and don't give Mary-Jayne a hard time, okay?"
I nodded meekly and flashed my best puppy dog eyes at her. She sighed in exaggerated exasperation and left.
I sat opposite MJay at the table while we drank our beers, engaging in usual small talk with enough light innuendo to make the conversation sparkle without going too far. After finishing my bottle, I asked MJay if she wanted me to clean up or if she'd take me as I was.
"No, Dan, no need to take a shower. Wait until I've finished and then you can wash your hair all in one go." I nodded and made to stand. "Besides, I don't know if I could resist the temptation of knowing you were naked only a few feet away. I might have to take a peek." The wicked smirk on her pretty face made me laugh.
"And where do you want me?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.
"Hmm," she cooed. "Are we talking about cutting your hair, or something else entirely?" We laughed heartily while I promptly shuffled one of the dining chairs away from the table so she could access me from all sides. She took another pull from her bottle and picked up the tools of her trade.
I'm not a wonderful conversationalist. Listening to her babble away behind me while she pulled my head back into her amazing bosom, I closed my eyes and thought about all the dirty things I'd like to do with her.
Although I couldn't see her, I got an impression that she wasn't relaxed. She seemed to be having trouble keeping still, and I was aware of her fidgeting behind me. My head was constantly bobbing up and down and, for a moment, I wondered if she was able to wield her sharp scissors without injuring me. And then there was the question of how my hair would look when she'd finished. I'm not vain, but that doesn't mean I don't care. Nevertheless, thinking about her boobs jiggling beneath her halter top, more than compensated for a bad haircut. It certainly caused blood to flow to parts of my body that, in hindsight, didn't need it.
After about five minutes of my neck and head titty massage, she stood in front of me to trim my fringe. Now I opened my eyes. Why? I hear you ask. Well, the answer is simple. I may be a randy old goat but, when MJay leaned forward, I saw down her top. The image is burned into my brain and the sight of her breasts bobbing up and down as she hopped from one foot to another, made my cock thicken.
Then it dawned on me that she wasn't doing this for my benefit. I realized something was wrong when she clenched her thighs together and wiggled and wobbled in front of me.
"Are you alright, MJay? Looks like you need to take a piss."
"I'm okay, Dan. Shouldn't have drunk that last beer, that's all."
I was so mesmerized by her jiggly tits, it took a few seconds for the penny to drop. "Are you sure, MJay? My hair can wait a couple of minutes. It's not like I've got a hot date tonight."
She responded with a giggle and another exotic wiggle. "Don't make me laugh Dan, or I'll surely piss my pants."
"Oh," I said, raising my eyebrows. "I didn't realize you were wearing any."
Another giggle. "Stop it, Dan, I almost did it."
"Did what?"
"Piss my pants, you stupid bastard." Another giggle and she stopped what she was doing. After a couple of seconds intense concentration she resumed cutting my hair.
"Listen, Missy, just because I clean up everybody else's shit around here, doesn't mean I wanna clean up yours," I grunted. "Now get that stupid ass of yours to the can."
Mary-Jayne clenched her thighs together and did another wiggle. "I'll be alright, Dan. I'm almost finished here and then I'll rush to the John."
"So long as you do, MJay, 'cause I ain't gonna mop up the fucking floor if you piss yourself."
"Shut up Dan, you're incorrigible."
"I can be, MJay… if you play your cards right, I can be."
Oh no, even to my ears, I sounded far too enthusiastic. I don't know why I'd spoken like it. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was simply the effect she always had on me. But she knew I was looking down her top at her tits. Whatever the reason, what happened next blew my mind.
