My Mother-in-Law Took Me Alone to the Lake House

When my sister Lucía called me about her birthday, I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep dodging her. She’d been blowing up my phone for days with messages and voice notes, and when I finally answered, she didn’t even say hello.

“Are you planning to show up, or are you going to keep playing dead?” she snapped in that mouth of hers, always so direct.

Lucía was like that: loud, gorgeous, and shameless. Her husband, Julián, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. A proper, polite, shy kind of man who seemed to apologize even for breathing. I’d never understood what he was doing with her, although I also knew perfectly well how everything between them had started.

I knew my sister far too well. Better than I should have. We’d crossed a line a couple of times since she got married, and that was precisely why I avoided seeing her too often. Not because she didn’t turn me on, but because if we got too close, we ended up making a mess of things.

“Don’t fuck with me, Lu,” I said. “Who’s going?”

“The usual people. My brother-in-law Ramiro and his wife, my in-laws, and that’s it. It’ll be a funeral if you don’t show up.”

I burst out laughing, though I knew she wasn’t exaggerating. My sister’s in-laws had money, manners, and an insulting talent for turning any gathering into a mass with wine. Even so, I eventually agreed.

I went because it was her birthday. I went because I had no other plans. And I went, though I didn’t admit it even to myself, because I was intrigued that her mother-in-law had asked about me.

That woman, Elena, had always caught my attention. She wasn’t magazine-beautiful, but she had the kind of severe elegance that demanded a second look. Tall, thin, straight-backed, with immaculate dresses and dark eyes that seemed to judge everything. I’d seen her only a few times, and even so my sister insisted she liked me. Too much.

The other woman that night was Vera, Julián’s brother’s wife. Younger than Elena, petite, discreet, always dressed as though she were afraid of attracting attention. She had a great body hidden beneath serious clothes: small but firm tits, a tight ass, a narrow waist. At first glance she seemed shy. I didn’t trust appearances.

Dinner was held in a private room with entertainment and a dance floor. When I arrived, everyone was already seated. The men shook my hand as if I owed them money; the women kissed both my cheeks. Lucía hugged me around the neck and left my cheek damp with lipstick and wine.

She was squeezed into a wine-colored dress that shamelessly outlined her tits and ass. Elena, by contrast, appeared in a much more sober dark-blue dress, although that night it was tighter than usual. Tight enough to show off her chest, waist, and an ass that was narrow but well-shaped for her age. Vera wore a light-colored dress, short to mid-thigh, and for the first time I saw that beneath all that propriety were legs that made you want to spread them.

At first everything was formal. Soft drinks, appetizers, work talk, restrained laughter. Then the wine started flowing, and I began doing what Lucía wanted me to do: tell stories, break silences, needle the men, and make everyone laugh. Little by little, they loosened up. Even Elena smiled for real a couple of times.

Then the music started. Eighties music, low lights, a crowded dance floor. Lucía was the first to get up.

“Let’s dance,” she ordered.

The husbands did what was expected: avoided eye contact, sank into their chairs, and pretended to be interested in their drinks. So the three women and I ended up on the dance floor.

With Lucía it was easy. Too easy. I grabbed her by the waist, she spun against me, and I took the opportunity to run my hand over her ass. She didn’t even flinch; on the contrary, she pressed herself harder against me for a second before pulling away laughing.

Then I went for Vera. She was tense at first, but when I guided her through a turn and slid my hand over her small, round ass, she let out a nervous little laugh and didn’t push me away. That was when I knew there was hunger beneath her soft voice.

Elena was last. She pretended to be difficult, waving her hands with that controlled-woman expression that suggested she never gave in. But she did. I took her by the waist and made her spin. On the second step, my hand dropped and I squeezed her ass through the dress.

“Excuse me,” she protested, laughing under her breath.

I kissed her cheek before letting her go, and although she gave me a little push, she didn’t seem offended. More uncomfortable because she’d enjoyed herself.

When a slow song began, Lucía stayed with me. We danced pressed together, and I immediately felt the heat of her tits against my chest and the deliberate movement of her pelvis seeking my cock.

“I’m sick of this family,” she whispered in my ear.

“And I thought you loved living well.”

“I love fucking well. It’s not the same thing.”

I laughed. She squeezed my ass shamelessly.

“I need a good fucking,” she murmured. “One of yours.”

“Don’t start.”

“You’re an asshole. And on top of that, you leave me all worked up.”

Her breath smelled of wine and want. If we’d been alone, I would have eaten her right there. But it wasn’t the place. I told her so. Then she pulled away just enough to look at me with a crooked smile.

“Then ask the others to dance. See if you can get those two stuck-up women’s panties wet.”

The comment amused me, but it also planted the idea firmly in my head. When we returned to the table, I ordered another drink and let the night continue.

First I asked Vera to dance a slow song. As soon as I had her in my arms, she put her hands on my chest to keep her distance.

“I don’t bite,” I said.

“I’m married,” she replied almost in a whisper.

“And I haven’t asked you to marry me. Just to dance.”

I took her hands and placed them behind my neck. Then I pulled her against me by the ass. Her breathing changed immediately.

“It’s easier to dance this way.”

My cock was already pressing against her lower belly. I brought my mouth close to her ear and told her plainly, without poetry.

“You’re getting turned on and you know it. Your husband doesn’t know how to light you up, but your body knows how to respond.”

She trembled. I licked her earlobe. I squeezed her ass with both hands.

“You’d like someone to grab you like this, spread your legs wide, and fuck you the way no one has fucked you in a long time.”

She didn’t answer. Not a word. But the tremor running through her body and the way she unconsciously sought me with her hips said enough. When the song ended, she returned to the table silent, flushed, and with her lips parted.

Then I went for Elena.

She didn’t resist this time. As soon as we moved among the couples, she put her arms around my neck with a naturalness I hadn’t expected. I took her by the waist and felt her chest against mine. She had good tits, mature, heavy, held firmly by her bra.

“It’s been a long time since I danced like this,” she murmured.

“Your body remembers, though.”

I rested my cheek against hers and began speaking softly to her. I knew that for a woman like her, boldness was almost as exciting as attention.

“You look like you’ve spent years behaving yourself. Too many.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you do. You like being touched. You like feeling a hard man pressed against you and pretending to be scandalized.”

My hands moved down to her buttocks, and I squeezed them without shame. I felt her go still—not from rejection, but from surprise.

“Do you like touching other women’s asses?” she asked, her coldness cracking.

“When the ass asks for it, yes.”

I squeezed harder and pressed my cock against her. She felt it. She drew a deep breath. She still didn’t pull away.

“You need someone to speak plainly to you,” I told her. “Someone to put his hands on you, eat your pussy slowly until you really moan, and then give you a hard cock to knock all that composure out of you.”

Her fingers tightened behind my neck. She neither protested nor laughed. She simply stayed pressed against me, listening to every word.

“No one has ever spoken to me like that.”

“That’s why you’re still here.”

When the song ended, she pulled away abruptly and said we should return to the table. I thought I’d pushed too hard. That was why I was surprised when Lucía called me again around noon the next day.

“My mother-in-law wants you to come to the lake house this weekend.”

“After last night?”

“Because of last night, exactly. I don’t know what you did to her, but she’s acting strange. And she keeps insisting.”

I thought about it. Lucía went on talking about the pool, horses, a huge estate, and another dinner with the same people. I only held on to one thing: Elena wanted to see me again.

I went Friday afternoon and deliberately arrived before anyone else. I wanted to find her alone.

The estate was excessive. An automatic gate, a long drive, trees, a stone mansion, and expensive silence. Her husband, a proper, distant man, received me and showed me into the sitting room. Elena was standing beside the glass doors, dressed in a skirt and a light blouse tied at the waist. Very lady-like. Very composed. Very fuckable.

She came over to greet me with two kisses and held my gaze for a second too long. It wasn’t anything obvious. It was enough.

We had a beer in the kitchen. We talked about trivial things. The drive, the heat, the house. She still held herself straight and spoke in that measured voice, but the air between us had changed. I stepped closer and put a hand on her waist.

“I thought you’d been offended last night.”

“I don’t like vulgarity,” she said. “That doesn’t mean I don’t understand certain things.”

She moved away just as the household employee appeared. Then, perfectly calmly, she suggested showing me the horses. Before that, she took me to my room. It was at the end of a hallway and opened onto a terrace overlooking the woods and the lake.

As soon as we stepped onto the terrace and she leaned against the railing, I knew I wasn’t going to wait any longer.

I stood behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist. My cock pressed against her ass through the fabric. Her body tensed immediately.

“You didn’t invite me here to show me the view,” I murmured in her ear.

She took a second to answer.

“What do you think I invited you for?”

I grabbed her tits over her blouse. They filled my hands better than I’d expected: soft, heavy, alive. She let out a muffled gasp and gripped the railing.

“To continue the conversation,” I said, pinching her nipples through her bra.

“Stop... stop,” she murmured, but without any force.

I didn’t let go. I opened her blouse, slipped my hand inside her bra, and found her nipple already hard. I rubbed it slowly while kissing her neck. Her breathing began to break apart.

“All that control is rotting you from the inside,” I whispered. “You’ve wanted this for years, and you’re still ashamed to admit it.”

I moved my other hand down her stomach to the insides of her thighs. It brushed the fabric of her panties, and her body gave a little jerk.

“No,” she said, but it was a weak no, almost habitual.

I slipped two fingers beneath the fabric and touched her pussy. She was less dry than I’d imagined. Her thick pubic hair brushed my knuckles and made me smile. I found her slit, pressed, rubbed, and immediately felt her beginning to grow wet.

“Look at you,” I said. “You say no, and you’re getting my fingers wet.”

A long moan escaped her this time, beyond her ability to stop it. I pushed her skirt up from behind and squeezed her ass with my open palm, massaging that mature flesh while sliding a finger inside her. She leaned farther over the railing.

“That’s it, fuck. Let me touch you.”

I inserted a second finger and began opening her slowly, pushing in and pulling out while my other hand kneaded one of her tits and pinched her nipple.

“Ahh...” she panted. “God...”

Her voice no longer sounded like a lady’s. It was pure need. Pure hot woman. She moved her hips backward, seeking more, opening herself to my fingers. I gave her a sharp smack on the ass.

“Good girl.”

She moaned louder. I pulled out my cock and rubbed it between her thighs, along the slit of her wet panties, pressing the bulge against her vulva.

“I want you to feel how hard it is.”

The hand between her legs worked faster. Fingers inside, thumb on her clitoris, a firm rhythm. Elena began panting uncontrollably. Her legs trembled. She thrust her ass backward like a needy whore.

“Don’t stop...” she finally blurted, almost angry at herself for having heard the words.

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

I made her come like that, standing, clinging to the railing, her skirt raised, two fingers buried inside her and my cock rubbing against her. She came hard, trembling, squeezing my hand with her pussy and releasing short, broken moans, as though each one brought her shame and pleasure at the same time.

When I turned her around, her face was flushed and her lips wet from breathing through her mouth. I kissed her. At first she was rigid, then she opened. I slipped my tongue inside, and she sucked it with a clumsy, belated need, like someone arriving late to desire but arriving hungry.

I pulled her panties down to her ankles and sat her on the edge of a lounge chair. I knelt between her legs.

“What are you doing?” she asked, though she already knew.

“What no one has done for you in years.”

I spread her legs wide and found a mature pussy, hairy and glistening. Beautiful in its own way. Real. I ran my tongue from the bottom up to her clitoris, and she answered with a jerk of her thighs.

“Ah... no...”

“Yes. Now you do.”

I ate her without pretending to be delicate. Flat tongue, then the tip, sucking her clitoris, my fingers going back inside to open her wider. Elena grabbed my hair. She didn’t know whether to pull me away or push me deeper, so she did both at once. I kept going. I spread the lips of her pussy with my fingers and pushed my tongue deeper, savoring her wetness, her heat, the little tremor passing through her abdomen.

“Fuck... fuck...” she repeated, stripped of every shred of class.

I loved hearing it. A woman like her saying fuck in a broken voice while I swallowed her pussy whole. I licked her until she came again, this time releasing a longer moan, her legs closing around my shoulders and her pelvis shuddering against my mouth.

When I stood up, she stared at me as if she didn’t recognize the woman who had just come twice. I pulled my pants all the way down and put my cock in front of her face.

“Now it’s your turn.”

Her eyes dropped. She swallowed. She was genuinely nervous.

“I don’t know if...”

“Yes, you do. You just haven’t done it.”

I took her hand and closed it around me. She squeezed too tightly at first. I showed her to loosen her grip. She began moving her hand slowly, watching the skin rise and fall. Fascinated.

“It’s big,” she murmured.

“Don’t admire it so much. Suck it.”

She knelt very slowly. The sight made me even harder: that haughty woman, blouse open, tits half exposed, kneeling before me on the terrace of her own house. She hesitated for a second with her lips a few inches from my glans. I ran the tip across her mouth.

Then she stuck out her tongue and licked it. Once. Then again, longer. After that she opened her lips and took only the head into her mouth, clumsy but obedient.

“That’s it. Slowly. Feel it getting harder.”

I held her hair while she repeated the movement. Each time a little better. She sucked the glans, released it, ran her tongue along the frenulum, and caught it again. She still didn’t know how to suck cock properly, but the thrill of watching her learn was driving me crazy.

“More saliva,” I told her.

She obeyed. Her hand moved up and down the shaft while her mouth worked at the top. She began moaning with my cock inside her, and that vibration finished me. I warned her too late.

“I’m going to come.”

She barely had time to pull away. I filled her mouth and chin with cum. Some she swallowed reflexively; the rest spilled over her lips. She stayed still, surprised, breathing through her nose, her face smeared.

The sight was brutal.

“You didn’t warn me properly,” she said when she could, hoarse and bewildered.

“Welcome to the real world.”

She cleaned herself as best she could and, against all expectations, didn’t run away. On the contrary. She composed herself, pulled her panties back up, buttoned her blouse halfway, and looked at me with a mixture of embarrassment and hunger that made me hard again.

“This stays between us,” she said.

“Of course.”

“And don’t ever speak to me like that in front of anyone again.”

“You like it in private.”

She didn’t answer. She only looked away. That was answer enough.

***

Later she took me on horseback to a shed beside the lake’s dock. There, far from the house, her husband, and the others, she was less tense. Or so she thought. I could see the desire plainly: the way she bit the inside of her cheek, the way she glanced at me, the way she touched her neck whenever she was nervous.

Inside the shed, it smelled of old wood and still water. There was a table, a couple of hammocks, and silence. Elena placed a hand on one of the fabrics and looked out toward the lake.

“Sometimes I come here alone,” she said. “To think about the life I never had.”

I pressed against her back and opened her blouse again.

“Then today you’re going to live part of it.”

I pulled her blouse off her arms, then removed her bra. Her tits fell free, mature and generous, their nipples already stiff the moment the air touched them. She shuddered. I unfastened her skirt, and it fell to the floor. She was left wearing only her panties and riding boots.

The image was beautiful and filthy at the same time. An elegant lady almost naked in a secluded shed, waiting for me to paw at her again.

I grabbed her tits from behind and kneaded them hard.

“Tell me you’re horny.”

“I’m horny,” she panted.

“Tell me you want more.”

“I want more.”

“Tell me you want my cock.”

She hesitated for a second. Then she closed her eyes.

“I want your cock.”

That was enough. I yanked her panties down. She lifted one foot, then the other, without protesting. I opened her legs with my knee and put two fingers inside her again. She was much wetter than before. Much wetter.

“Now you look like a woman who knows what she wants.”

“Don’t humiliate me,” she said, but her tone wasn’t angry. It was aroused.

“I’m not humiliating you. I’m fucking your head before I fuck your pussy.”

She turned to kiss me hungrily. I pulled down my pants and grabbed her by the waist. She looked at my cock and, without being asked, crouched down again. This time she sucked it better. With less fear. Looser. More like a whore. She took more of it into her mouth, closed her lips, looked up at me from below, and began moving her hand in rhythm.

“That’s how I like you,” I told her. “You learn fast.”

I pulled her away before I came again. I turned her around and bent her over the table, pressing her chest against the wood. I spread her buttocks and spent a second looking at her wet, open pussy, her ass just above it, her back arched. I gave her a hard smack.

“Ah...”

I rubbed my glans over her entrance, up and down, making her wetter. Then I pushed it inside slowly. Very slowly at first, feeling her swallow me. Elena gripped the table and let her head fall.

“Fuck... so full...”

“I’m not all the way in yet.”

I pushed deeper, all the way in, with a slow but firm thrust. She moaned so loudly that she glanced toward the door on instinct. I held her waist and began fucking her for real.

I moved in and out at an increasingly harder rhythm, watching her tits tremble, watching her ass take every thrust, watching her pussy grow softer and wetter around my cock. Elena didn’t know what to hold on to. She moaned, panted, sometimes tried to be quiet and sometimes forgot herself.

“You like this, huh? Being taken bent over and given cock without all that ceremony.”

“Yes... yes...”

That turned me on even more. I reached around her, grabbed one tit, and began rubbing her clitoris with the other hand while I thrust into her. Every impact made the wood creak.

“Look at you. So refined, so proper... and here you are, legs spread for me.”

“Don’t stop... please...”

Please. From her mouth. There was no trace left of the rigid woman from the night before. Only a hungry mature woman discovering, late in life, how much she liked being fucked dirty.

I increased the pace. I drove my cock all the way in and pulled it almost completely out before thrusting back into her. Her pussy made wet sounds. My balls slapped against her skin. She pushed her ass farther back, asking for more. I bit her shoulder.

“Come again.”

“Yes... make me come...”

I rubbed her clitoris faster and kept fucking her without slowing down. Elena came with a hoarse, prolonged moan, her legs trembling so violently they nearly buckled. I held her by the waist and continued a little longer, taking advantage of her pussy’s contractions around my cock until I couldn’t hold back.

I pulled out and came over her ass and lower back, watching the white cum run between her buttocks. I gave her a gentle smack afterward, simply because I enjoyed watching her shudder.

We stayed like that for a moment. Her bent over the table, panting. Me behind her, still half-hard, breathing heavily.

When she straightened up, her eyes were unfocused, her cheeks flushed, and her body seemed different, as though something inside her had loosened.

“I didn’t think it would be like that,” she said.

“Like what?”

“So... animal.”

I smiled.

“And you loved it.”

She lowered her gaze. She didn’t deny it.

She cleaned herself with a handkerchief she found in a drawer of the shed and began dressing slowly. I watched without helping her. I liked seeing her rebuild herself: first the panties, then the skirt, then the bra holding up again those tits that moments earlier had been in my mouth and hands.

Before we left, she took me by the arm.

“I want to do it again,” she said bluntly, still flushed from daring to say it. “But discreetly.”

“Done.”

“And one more thing.”

“Tell me.”

“Don’t treat me like just anyone in front of the others.”

I stroked her cheek.

“In front of the others, you’ll be the perfect lady. Alone, you’ll be the woman who begs me not to stop while she comes with my cock inside her.”

She closed her eyes for a moment. That small gesture confirmed that I had her now. Not just her body. Her secret, too.

We rode back to the house as if nothing had happened. But I already knew that weekend was only beginning, and that in such a proper family there was more hunger than anyone dared admit.