In the days that followed, I waited to hear from Gordon. Of course, I was in his contacts, just as he was in mine, and it would have taken him only seconds to reach out. My in-laws lived fifteen minutes from me and Julian, so Gordon could have easily stopped by. But as the new year approached, I feared he regretted what we’d done at the beach house.
Again and again, I told myself I hadn’t imagined the blatant hunger on his face when he confessed he wanted our affair to continue. Maybe he was simply excellent at compartmentalizing. Maybe he’d already carved a niche for me in his life, one he’d revisit when it proved convenient for him.
Meanwhile, Julian seemed oblivious to my agitation. As expected, he returned to the office right after Christmas. Though I worked part-time tutoring college students, the weeks-long winter break meant I now had little to do.
Julian insisted I accompany him to a New Year’s Eve party being held at his colleague’s house. Years ago, before our marriage, we orbited the same social circle despite our vastly different backgrounds. We were introduced by a mutual friend. But now, my husband mainly socialized with business associates. I had nothing in common with them, which used to make me anxious. I feared saying the wrong thing and making a fool of myself. Then I realized I had to say very little. All I really needed to do was feign interest as Julian’s acquaintances went on about themselves and their successes.
And although I’d gained twenty pounds over the five years I’d been married, I still served as appealing eye candy while at Julian’s side.
During the drive to the party, I asked my husband if he’d heard from Gordon or Kelly.
“Not a word,” he said, keeping his stare fixed on the road. “Mom’s probably still mortified. Christ, Dad’s outburst was embarrassing. I can’t believe he called Mom a… a—”
“A cunt.” I derived a visceral pleasure from repeating the insult.
Julian shot me a warning glance. “Come on, Clara, you know Mom didn’t mean anything by that remark. She thinks you’re great.”
That made me snicker. “Sure she does.”
“Hey.” His tone was now sharp. “Let’s not do this tonight, okay?”
I gave him my most pleasant smile. “Whatever you say.”
At the party, I was offered drink after drink, but I had just one glass of wine. And as every designated driver knows, being surrounded by loudmouthed drunks is a terrible bore. Though Julian was careful not to get completely shitfaced, by half past eleven, he’d grown uninhibited enough to demand that I dance with him.
“We’re both shitty dancers, remember?” I shouted in his ear, trying to be heard over the blaring music.
He merely threw his head back and laughed. “Who cares?”
I let him pull me close and swing me around. His cheeks were flushed, and with his tousled hair and bright eyes, he granted me a glimpse into our past. This was the man I’d fallen in love with, the man I’d agreed to marry after a whirlwind courtship of just six months.
I could feel the heat of his skin. His hands roamed over my hips, threatening to settle on my ass. My black dress with its sweetheart neckline had attracted plenty of attention throughout the evening, some of it far from subtle.
When Julian pressed me even more firmly against him, I felt his erection through his pants. Helplessly, I glanced around. By that point, most everyone else at the party was too intoxicated to notice my husband’s inappropriate behavior.
“We’re leaving right after midnight,” he said while kissing my neck. “As soon as we get home, I’m going to fuck you.”
Five minutes into the new year, Julian and I were saying goodbye to our host. The man, who was a rung above my husband on the corporate ladder, openly leered at me.
“I certainly enjoyed watching that dance earlier,” he said. “And I’m guessing the night is far from over for you two.”
I bristled at the way his stare crawled over my skin, but Julian just crowed, “You know it!”
As I drove home, my husband kept his hand on my thigh. His fingers explored until they brushed the top of my stocking. Though the booze had relaxed him into a near stupor, he made a point to describe how hard he was for me.
Once we were inside our house, he practically dragged me to the bedroom. I tottered in my heels, trying to keep up with him. I barely had time to turn on the lamp before he set about unzipping my dress.
When I reached behind me to unhook my bra, he stopped me with a shake of his head. “Leave it on. It makes your tits look incredible.”
He ordered me to keep my stockings on as well. As I stepped out of my panties, Julian remained dressed. In seconds, he’d taken out his cock.
I obeyed his instruction to climb on the bed and offer my pussy to him while on my hands and knees. It wasn’t my favorite position, because I knew my husband preferred me leaner, less curvy—a million lecherous stares from his colleagues wouldn’t change that. And with my ass fully on display, I had no way to conceal what Julian considered a flaw.
He was too drunk, too horny, for any kind of foreplay. I lowered my head when he entered me with a hard thrust.
“Oh, fuck yes!” His fingertips burrowed into my skin as he grabbed my hips.
Maybe this position was best, after all. Facing away from Julian, I could close my eyes and let my mind wander to his father.
An involuntary groan escaped me.
“You like that, baby?” Julian was pounding my pussy now.
“Yeah,” I sighed. He felt nothing like Gordon. My father-in-law had filled me completely, and with each thrust, he’d sent a jolt of bliss through my entire body.
I was so immersed in the memory that my climax took me by surprise. Julian hissed when my flesh tightened around him.
“I think that’s a record for you, Clara! You really needed it tonight, huh?” His tone was taunting. “Did you get excited by all those men watching you? They knew I’d be fucking your brains out as soon as I got you home.”
His talk served to fuel his arousal, for I soon felt him swell inside my cunt. Seconds later, he halted abruptly and then groaned through his orgasm. After pulling out, he gave my right buttock a few light taps with his cockhead.
I sat up, brushing strands of hair out of my face. Still breathing hard, Julian kissed me as an afterthought.
“That was fantastic,” he said. “I felt how hard you came.”
I smiled and nodded. Like his colleagues and their wives, Julian was happiest when I simply agreed.
It was well past one by the time we lay side by side in the darkness, close to sleep. Julian’s deep breaths led me to believe he’d already drifted off.
Until he murmured, “It’s a new year, Clara. Fresh start. We should get busy starting a family.” Drawing me into his arms, he added, “You should have the IUD removed.”
My eyes grew wide with alarm. For the second time that night, I was grateful he couldn’t see my face.
“Clara?” His voice sounded drowsier than ever.
I was quiet for a long moment, praying he’d fall into a slumber and forget this conversation ever happened. But I could tell he was waiting for my answer.
“I’ll give it some thought,” I finally replied.
“Don’t think on it too long.” His embrace slackened before he released me altogether. “You’ll be turning thirty this spring.”
As I lay awake and listened to Julian snore, I knew I’d be the one to cave. I could no longer stomach Gordon’s silence.
Yet I managed to hold out until the following Monday before sending him a text: Can we meet?
Soon afterward, I saw that he’d read my message. For the next ten minutes, I gnawed at the skin lining my lower lip and stared at the phone’s screen. Maybe I should have been less eager. Maybe I should have requested that we simply talk instead.
But I had to see him, not just hear his voice.
I nearly dropped the phone when it rang. The sight of my father-in-law’s name emblazoned on the screen sent an anxious ripple through my gut.
I answered with a simple hello, the word spoken just above a whisper.
He spoke almost as softly. “I’ve cleared my schedule for the afternoon, and I’ve made a reservation at a hotel.”
As he went on, I struggled to comprehend his instructions. I was so shocked that he’d arranged for us to have a few hours together that I couldn’t move. My breath grew stagnant in my lungs until I was forced to release it.
The hotel he’d chosen was in another city, a half-hour drive away. He’d arrive first, since his office was closer. After checking in, he’d text me with the room number.
“We’re not likely to be recognized there,” he assured me. “Especially not on a Monday afternoon.”
“I’ll leave in twenty minutes.” Looking down at my sweatshirt and leggings, I grimaced. “Make that thirty minutes.”
I heard his soft laughter. I delighted him even when I was being ridiculous.
“I can’t wait to see you,” he told me.
Once I’d ended the call, the grin lingered on my face. I’d showered a little earlier, and my hair was still damp. Scrambling toward the bedroom, I mentally skimmed through my wardrobe as I tried to decide what to wear.
Nothing too flashy. Nothing that would attract unnecessary attention. I settled on a wine-colored wrap dress with tights and knee-high boots. If I did happen to run into someone I knew, I certainly wouldn’t look as if I’d arrived at a hotel to fuck my father-in-law. My lacy black bra and panties were a bit more risque.
I was quick about styling my hair in delicate waves. Though I kept my makeup subtle for the most part, I couldn’t resist painting my lips a vibrant shade of plum.
Before leaving the house, I texted Julian: Meeting Annie for coffee and maybe a little shopping. Should be back soon after you get home.
I hadn’t spoken to Annie since before Christmas, but Julian didn’t know that.
He responded minutes later: Have fun!!! He always went overboard with the exclamation points. It was his way of ensuring I didn’t misinterpret the tone of his message.
The light traffic conspired to help me arrive at the four-star hotel in just under half an hour. By the time I parked the car and checked my makeup in the rearview mirror, Gordon had sent me the room number.
I strode into the building as if I had official business there. Bundled up in my Burberry coat, I didn’t so much glance at the hotel receptionist. Instead, I made my way to the elevator. Only when the doors closed and I was alone did I draw in a shaky breath.
It was silly, the way I crept along the corridor to Gordon’s room. The entire floor was quiet and still. But I felt I owed it to us both to be careful.
Standing in front of his door, I gently knocked. He must have been waiting, poised to hear that sound, for he quickly opened up.
We regarded each other in silence for a moment. He’d shed his suit jacket and tie but still looked formal in his starched white shirt and dress pants. Seeing as how classism had been baked into my marriage from the start, I felt guilty for admiring his fine clothes. Yet I couldn’t deny the man struck me as powerful. Authoritative.
I sensed him trying to determine which role I intended to play: would I be the contrite daughter-in-law, coming to break things off? Or was I eager to let him have me again?
I let my coat fall open to reveal my dress. What Gordon saw made him smile, and he held out his hand.
When I took it, he drew me to him. The door closed behind us with a soft click.
Cradling my face in his hands, Gordon smiled. “You look beautiful, Clara.”
I glanced down at my outfit, hoping to see myself as he did. “I tried to be inconspicuous.”
That made him laugh. His palms slid along the sides of my neck, and then farther down until they rested on my shoulders.
“So many times, I wanted to reach out to you,” he said. “But I told myself I should give you a chance to decide if you really want to… continue this.”
“I thought you regretted what happened.” I stared at a button on his shirt. My fingers ached to unfasten it.
“I’m not proud of what I’m doing here,” he admitted. “I know it’s wrong. And I also know…” His hands continued their journey down my body. I released a quiet moan when he cupped my breasts. “I’m too weak, too selfish, to stop wanting you. You’re all I’ve thought about.”
My eyes locked with his. In just seconds, he’d changed from a kind, appropriate father-in-law, kneading the tense muscles in my shoulders, to a man overwhelmed by hunger. He grew more demanding while fondling my tits. My nipples were so hard that the skin around them felt painfully tight.
The moment I reached to stroke him through his pants, he buried his fingers in my hair and drew my head back. My lips parted in surprise, and he seized the opportunity to give me a rough kiss. Yet his tongue merely grazed mine, teasing me until I whined.
At first, we worked to undress each other. I was clumsy unbuttoning Gordon’s shirt and removing his belt, while he loosened the sash of my dress with ease. When I let the garment slide from my body and fall to the floor, his stare moved over me, nearly as palpable as a caress. The lamplight provided ample illumination for him to study every detail of my exposed skin.
“My God, you are stunning,” he whispered.
And I grinned like a smitten teenager.
The room was warm, so I didn’t shiver once I’d stripped down to just my bra and panties. Gordon had drawn the curtains, and I found I liked having the rest of the world banished from view. It made this place seem as though it belonged to us. No one from the outside could intrude.
Flashing a playful smile, I decided I wouldn’t get totally naked just yet. My father-in-law, however, had no qualms about doing so. I stepped closer in order to trail my fingertips along his chest; my touch was feather-light against his belly. Though still mostly lean, his body was soft in a way I wasn’t accustomed to. Any time Julian embraced me, or slid on top of me in bed, I was reminded of his strength.
Finally, I turned all my attention to Gordon’s erection. That glorious dick stood proud and stiff. When I stroked the tip, it twitched with excitement.
I sank to my knees. The carpet provided sufficient cushioning, and I knew I could stay in this position for hours if Gordon wanted me to.
While exhaling a warm breath over his cock, I slid my hands along his hairy thighs, and then around to his ass. It lacked the muscular firmness of Julian’s, but I didn’t mind in the least. My feelings for Gordon already bordered on adoration; if he possessed any flaws, I was blind to them.
His hand was gentle on my hair. I smiled up at him as he caressed my cheek. His dick pulsed again, as if to invite my mouth’s warmth.
I knew I’d made him wait long enough. Grasping his cock, I circled my tongue around the tip and then licked his prominent slit. I toyed with that opening, probing a little, until he made a faint whimpering sound.
Yet he didn’t rush me. He didn’t try to force his way into my mouth. Maybe he enjoyed being teased. I stroked and kissed him, my lips following the veiny lines of his shaft. Unlike Julian, he had pubic hair, but it was trimmed. His balls were smooth beneath my tongue.
“Ah, Clara!” he sighed.
My mouth filled with saliva, which I used to bathe every inch of his dick. I licked him from base to tip before wrapping my lips around his cockhead. A subtle tremor coursed through him, leading me to wonder how long it had been since Kelly had done this.
I guessed my father-in-law’s cock was a little over eight inches long, and I doubted I’d be able to take much more than half in my mouth. In the past, Julian had expressed his disappointment that I couldn’t swallow a dick like a porn star.
Gordon, on the other hand, made me feel like a pro as I started bobbing my head back and forth.
“That feels incredible!” With his palm cupped against the back of my head, he exerted the slightest pressure, just enough to guide my rhythm. His girth actually stretched my lips. It was another new sensation for me, as Julian’s dick was average in that area.
My eyes watered, and spit pooled in my mouth when Gordon’s tip pushed into my throat. I did my best to remain relaxed and hold him there without gagging. Finally, I had to withdraw. My breasts rose and fell with my heavy breaths while I blinked back tears.
And that adoration I felt for Gordon? I saw it in his eyes as he looked down at me. He seemed so… grateful that I was willing to give him head. Was it projection that made me think I also detected a hint of guilt? Maybe he was ashamed of sullying his son’s sweet little wife.
But I’d never been sweet or innocent. I was simply good at pretending.
I returned to sucking Gordon’s cock like I couldn’t get enough. I kept at it, moaning even as my jaw ached in protest. And whenever I needed to catch my breath, I kissed and licked his sac. His groans grew louder, and he’d begun to tremble as…
