The Adored Son-In-Law

My name was Logan Prescott, and I was a 25-year-old married man.

Lately, I had been troubled. My petite, delicate wife simply couldn't handle my thick, extremely well-endowed rod.

On top of that, my stamina was relentless. If I went a single day without release, my whole body felt on edge.

Every time we were together, it ended up feeling almost like an assault, with my wife's eyes rolling back in pleasure just so I could gain the slightest bit of satisfaction.

In less than a month, even her lips had grown two sizes larger.

Things had gotten so intense that my mother-in-law, Maria Walsh, couldn't help but notice. She was my boss and the one who had brought me together with her daughter. At first, she assumed I was a player and had risen to defend her daughter.

When she later learned the truth, she felt a little embarrassed to face me.

That day, I sat in my office, idly thinking about how to improve my wife's skills when my phone suddenly rang. It was Maria. She asked me to meet her in the office.

I knocked on her door. At her soft "Come in," I pushed it open.

The first thing I saw was Maria, bent over with her hips raised, sorting through a cardboard box. As she rifled through the items, her full, rounded hips swayed subtly, catching my eye.

"You're here."

She didn't even lift her head, as if she had already recognized my footsteps. She nodded toward the couch beside her. "Have a seat. I'll be done in a minute."

I said nothing and walked over to the sofa. As I sat down and watched her from behind, I swallowed unconsciously.

If I remembered correctly, my mother-in-law had just turned 40. She was at that age when her desires burned strongest.

Unlike my petite wife, Maria stood at five-foot-six, with a well-kept body and a figure that blended soft fullness with defined curves.

Today, she wore a tight bodycon dress that clung to every line of her body. Her lush hips stretched the fabric taut, and beneath it, the faint outline of pale lavender underwear pressed against her skin, subtly shaping her curves.

That body was pure temptation. The sight alone sparked a wild, almost uncontrollable craving to seize it, to make it mine completely.

"Mom, let me help you."

I walked toward Maria.

As I went by, something in my mind suddenly snapped. Before I knew it, my hand shot out, landing with a sharp smack on her soft, full backside.

Her body went still, and her voice betrayed her surprise.

"What are you doing?"

"Your hips… They're just too tempting. I couldn't stop myself…"

I struggled to get the words out.

Her face flushed crimson. She stood and pinched my waist hard. "Have you lost your mind? Can't get enough of your wife, so now you're coming after me?"

I let out a playful yelp. Since she wasn't really mad, I grinned and teased, "What's wrong with a little touch? If your daughter can't keep up, then you have to do your part…"

"How can you be so shameless, saying things like this?" she snapped softly, though there was no real bite behind it.

She lowered her head and continued sorting through the box, completely unaware that her open collar revealed a glimpse of her soft, pale cleavage. "Help me move these back home later."

Some time ago, she had mentioned needing to bring a stack of books home, but couldn't manage it herself.

Naturally, I agreed. I carried the boxes to the car and drove her back.

"Put them next to the bookshelf in the bedroom."

Following her instructions, I carried a large box inside. As I stood up, I wasn't watching my step and tripped over a pair of slippers, stumbling forward and falling onto the bed.

When I looked down, I saw a strip of black lace peeking from beneath the pillow.

A thong?

Driven by curiosity, I lifted the pillow. Beneath it lay a flesh-colored massager that was definitely not small.

Apparently, she had that side to her.

The thought of my alluring, widowed mother-in-law relying on something like this to satisfy herself made my pulse spike.

Just as I was lost in my fantasies, Maria's heels clicked sharply behind me.

When she saw what I was holding, panic flashed across her face. She snatched it away and shoved it back under the pillow, trying to push me toward the door. "I'll take care of the rest. You should go."

Her flushed, shy expression broke my restraint. I pulled her into my arms.

"You… You're impossible…"

Her cheeks burned red as she struggled weakly against me. Her body shook all over, and then she went entirely soft in my arms.

If I hadn't caught her, she would have gone down completely.

She was so sensitive.

Driven by the moment, I lowered my head to hers, capturing her lips, while my hand slid down, kneading the soft curves of her hips.

Then I grabbed the hem of her dress and pushed it up to her waist.

My fingers traced lower, brushing the edge of her lace underwear. They slid into the curve where her thighs met her hips, sinking into the soft, yielding flesh that seemed to mold around my touch.