Rachel sighed as she looked at herself in the mirror. Eight months of marriage, and already her husband had been deployed overseas for for two of the next nine months. It seemed like a lifetime, and she missed him terribly. Her insecurity about her weight, never quite gone since high school, had returned with a vengeance. She knew she should lose some weight, but with her husband gone and her father-in-law dropping by almost every day to help around the house, she had found it hard to muster the willpower.

The old man had always been a bit forward, even before she'd married into the family. His eyes seemed to linger just a fraction of a second too long on her 40GG breasts whenever he came into a room, and he had a habit of "accidentally" brushing against her whenever they were standing close together. His hugs, including the one at the wedding, are always a little too long and too tight. Rachel knew she should say something, but she didn't want to make things awkward for him, her husband, or for herself. After all, he was her father-in-law, and he had been nothing but kind to her since the day she'd met his son.

Despite herself, Rachel couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement whenever she saw him approach. She had used the experiences of guys pursuing her as a way to fend off her insecurities. And many times those experiences led to pleasure. And there was something about the way he moved, the strength in his arms as he lifted heavy objects, and the way he looked at her that made her heart race. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn't help occasionally giving in and fantasizing about what it would be like to feel those muscles against her own soft curves. She tried to push the thoughts away, to focus on the fact that her husband was half a world away, and that she should be faithful to him, but they kept coming back, taunting her.

Her father-in-law had always been something of a womanizer. His wife had divorced him years ago, citing his inability to be monogamous as the main reason. He had even gone so far as to have sex with two of his ex-wife's sisters, a fact that only added fuel to the fire of Rachel's late-night fantasies. She couldn't help but wonder how he had successfully seduced them and what it would be like to be pursued by him that way. She loved being married, but at times missed the feeling of being wanted and pursued by other men.

It didn't help that her husband had always been so considerate of her feelings. He had never pressured her into anything sexual, and had always made sure to ask first. In some ways, it made their intimate moments all the more special, but it also left her feeling like she was missing out on something. To make it even worse, her husband was.... undersized. He was so sweet and so kind she thought the size of his penis wouldn't bother her. But even her feelings on this seemed to be changing in his absence.

Rachel couldn't deny that against her own values she still occasionally fantasized about her father-in-law taking her roughly, possessing her in a way that her husband never could. She imagined him pinning her against the wall, his strong arms holding her tight as he kissed her deeply, his rough stubble scratching her skin. She pictured him undoing the buttons of her shirt, revealing his 38-GG chest, then lowering himself down, his face pressing against her breasts. She fantasized about feeling the weight of him, the power in his movements, as he ravaged her, claiming her as his own. They were forbidden thoughts and she swore she would stop thinking about him. But he stopped by multiple times per week, and after each time the thoughts returned and with them an ache between her legs for more.

One day, after a particularly exhausting morning of cleaning the house, her father-in-law paused in the kitchen to refill his water glass. Rachel, still wearing a thin, cotton tank top and a pair of yoga pants, found herself unable to look away from him as he moved. She watched as his eyes flickered down to her chest, lingering on the curves of her breasts before traveling slowly up to meet her gaze. For a moment, she thought he might say something, but instead, he simply smiled at her, a knowing smile that sent a shiver down her spine.

Her heart pounding, she tried to maintain her composure, but found herself unable to resist the urge to step closer to him. Their bodies brushed against each other, and she could feel the heat emanating from his skin. He took a step back, leaning casually against the counter, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Rachel," he whispered, his voice low and husky, "I can't help but wonder what it would be like..."

Before she could react, he was suddenly there, his lips pressing against hers, his tongue demanding entry into her mouth. She gasped, overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensation, as his hands moved to grasp her hips, pulling her even closer. His behavior was so different from her husband's, and so similar to the boys and men in her past. His strength was intoxicating, and she found herself melting into his embrace, returning his kiss with a passion she didn't know she possessed. She knew she should stop. But, she felt overwhelmed with a surge of lust that clouded her brain.

He broke the kiss, breathing heavily, and looked into her eyes.

"You are so beautiful. Please just let me..." he whispered, lifting the hem of her shirt above her heavy bra, trailing a finger down her cheek, "Please just let me see them." And without another word, he reached around and unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the floor.

Her breasts were revealed, and he groaned, cupping them in his large hands. She felt insecure for a moment as they fell, heavy, hanging. But he lowered his head, taking one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking gently before nipping at it with his teeth and her concerns washed away in pleasure. Rachel arched her back, moaning loudly, her hands tangling in his hair.

"Fuck, yes," he growled, moving to the other breast and treating it to the same attention. He licked and sucked, teased and nipped, as if he were trying to draw every last drop of pleasure from her breasts. She was drowning in the sensation, her body on fire with need. She didn't want him to stop... his hands on her chest felt soo good. But, with all the willpower she could muster she breathed out, "We should stop. This is wrong."

Her father-in-law looked up at her, his expression a mix of lust and regret. His fingers continued to move against her skin, tracing lazy circles around her nipples before moving lower, down her flat stomach, and over her rib cage. He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting hers as if he was trying to gauge her reaction. She could feel his erection pressing against the fabric of his pants, and it only served to make her wetter.

She bit her lip, trying to decide what to say or do. Part of her wanted to push him away, to remind herself that this was wrong. But another part of her, a part of her that she had repressed since meeting her husband, craved his touch, his words. She could feel herself growing wetter between her legs as he continued to tease her.

Her father-in-law, sensing her confusion, stepped closer, his erection pressing against her hip.

"You know you want this, Rachel. You've always been so beautiful. It's like your body was made for a man like me." He reached up, cupping and roughly squeezing her breast, teasing her nipple with his thumb. "You need this pleasure. Your body craves it... do you like your tits worked over, Rachel? Walking around every day with these big fat girls bouncing around has been killing me. They NEED to be touched. And I need to touch them."

His words sent a shiver down her spine. She couldn't deny the truth in them. Her breasts did ache for attention, and she couldn't help but feel aroused by his touch. But she couldn't give in. This was wrong, so wrong. She should push him away, but her body refused to cooperate.

"I-I can't..." she stammered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart.

But he just leaned in and sucked her nipple into his mouth, smashing, rolling, and squeezing her tit-flesh in his hands.

Her breath hitched, and her knees went weak. She wanted him to stop, and she wanted him to never stop. The feeling of being so completely dominated, of being nothing more than a body for his pleasure, was overwhelming. He released her nipple, only to move lower, to her stomach. His fingers traced a path down her flat abdomen, teasing the thin fabric of her yoga pants.

"I know women like you, Rachel. You need fucked and my son will be gone for months. Better me, than some stupid young punk that could mess up your marriage."

He cupped her through her pants and panties, his fingers sliding easily pushing the fabric up into her slit.

"You're wet for me, aren't you?" His voice was a husky growl in her ear. "You want me to touch you here, don't you?"

She whimpered in response, pushing her hips forward, as he slipped a finger into her groove.. just thin fabric between her pussy and her father-in-law's finger. He thrust his finger along the slit, hard and deep, while his other hand cupped her breast, pinching her nipple roughly. "You're so wet for me, Rachel. You're leaking through your pants."

He slid his fingers up to the elastic waistline...

"I want to see it, Rachel. Do you want me to see it? Do you want to show that wet pussy to your husband's daddy? Hmm, Rach?"

She barely nodded, but it was enough for him to smile and reach out both hands on the top of the fabric. she gasped at the feeling of being so completely submissive to him. He tugged her pants and panties down, exposing her bald, smooth skin to the cool air of the room, her wet folds glistening in the light.

He leaned in, breath hot against her skin as he whispered, "You're so beautiful, Rachel. Your pussy is perfect... just like your fat tits. You are made to be fucked. You're made for a man like me."

Her body trembled under his touch, her hips moving involuntarily as she arched her back, offering herself up to him. He pushed her yoga pants and panties further down, baring her ass as well, and she felt a shiver of desire course through her. She wanted him to touch her there, to feel the tight, hot skin of her ass. That has always been an erogenous zone for her. She wanted him to fuck her, to make her his. It had been so long since she had been really taken, fucked hard by a needy man. She was completely intoxicated with lust.

He moved his hands back up, cupping her breasts once more, squeezing and massaging them roughly.

"These are perfect for my hands, Rachel. They're made to be squeezed and sucked. You're made for a man's touch."

His thumbs brushed over her nipples, teasing them into hard, aching peaks.

"You like that, don't you? You like feeling my touch on your tits, making them hurt, making them hard."

She couldn't speak, couldn't breathe, as he continued to torment her breasts. Her hips bucked forward, seeking more of his touch, his words.

"You want me to do more, don't you? You want me to make you feel good, make you forget everything else."

He leaned down, kissing her neck, nipping at her skin.

"I can do that, Rachel. I can make you forget my son, forget everything except how good you feel. I can make your pussy mine."

As wrong as that statement was, she still felt her pussy convulse, clenching.

He released her breasts, only to slide his hand down her stomach, to her hip. His fingers slipped between her legs, finding her slick, swollen folds.

"You're so wet for me," he growled, pressing two fingers deep inside her. "You're so fucking hot." He thrust his fingers in and out, hard and fast, as she arched her back, her head falling back against his shoulder.

"Tell me you want this, Rachel. Tell me you want your father-in-law to make you cum."

She couldn't speak, could barely breathe as he took her like this, in the house she shared with her husband, his son. She wanted it, she couldn't deny that. She wanted him to make her forget everything but this moment, this pleasure.

"Your pussy is loose, Rachel, open, wanting stuffed," he groaned, his fingers digging into her hips as he pumped harder. "Your pussy feels so good." His free hand moved up, cupping her breast once more, pinching and twisting her nipple. "Are you gonna cum for me like this? Cum for old daddy."

"Please..." she moaned out, unable to find any other words.

His fingers moved faster, harder, and she felt her orgasm building, building.

"That's it, Rachel. Let go. Cum all over daddy's hand."

His other hand moved down, cupping her ass, squeezing and massaging it as he thrust deeper, faster.

"Let me feel it, let me feel your hot pussy spasm around my fingers."

His thumb found her clit, rubbing it roughly, one fingertip of the hand on her ass touching her asshole, as she came, her body shuddering in his grip. He held her tight, feeling her orgasm pulse through her as she cried out, her pussy clenching and releasing around his fingers.

Finally, he let her go, her pants and underwear around one foot. She slid to the floor and lay there, gasping for breath, her body tingling from head to toe.

"You're so beautiful when you come," he whispered, his hand sliding down her hip. "I wish I could see you like that with my son."

She felt a shiver of fear run down her spine at the thought.

"But for now, we'll have to settle for this." He leaned down, kissing her neck, his tongue tracing the delicate skin there. "Just remember, Rachel, this doesn't mean anything. It's just us, two lonely people trying to find comfort." And he stood up, revealing a hard tent with a wet spot in his pants, and walked toward the door.

She was stunned as he was leaving, only to turn around and say, "Next time, it's my turn. Your gonna love servicing this thick cock."

Her heart pounded as she heard him walk away. It was all so surreal, like a dream she couldn't wake up from. The guilt was crushing, the desire that had been unleashed both exhilarating and terrifying. She didn't know how she was supposed to move forward from this.

The thought of being with him again, feeling his touch and his cock inside her, sent shivers down her spine. Part of her wanted more, wanted to give in to the desire that he'd unlocked within her. But another part of her knew that she couldn't. This was wrong on every level, and if she didn't put a stop to it now, she'd only end up hurting herself and her husband even more.

She spent the next few days in a haze, her mind constantly drifting back to the encounter with her father-in-law. She tried to focus on work, on her marriage, on anything that would distract her from the growing ache between her legs. But it was no use. The image of him fingering her to orgasm, the things he said, the feel of his rough hands on her body, were burned into her mind, refusing to let her forget.

One night alone in her bed, after finally falling asleep, she had a vivid dream of a group of men taking turns using her body for pleasure, one after the other. But every time she looked at the face of the next man climbing into her bed, it was her father-in-law, Jack. She woke trembling and on fire. The crotch of her panties and pajamas were soaked, a wet spot on the sheet from between her legs. She had to get up and grab a towel to clean the bed and herself up.

She couldn't get back to sleep. She knew she needed relief, needed to get that ache out of her. Slipping out of bed, she made her way to the bathroom again, locking the door behind her. She turned on the shower, letting the hot water cascade over her body, trying to wash away the memories, the desire. But it was no use. Her fingers found their way to her center, and she began to touch herself, imagining it was Jack's hand on her skin. She closed her eyes, moaning as she stroked herself, imagining him watching her, saying degrading things about her body, how hard he was going to fuck her in her marital bed. She came hard, her cries echoing off the tile walls of the bathroom.

When she finally emerged from the shower, she felt dirty and used, like she was losing a piece of herself with every passing day, but she felt physical relief. She dried off and climbed back into bed, hoping for sleep, but it eluded her. She tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable, her body aching again. She thought about telling someone, and confessing to the affair, but she was terrified of the consequences. Her marriage, her family, her reputation would all be ruined. No, she had to find a way to end it, to put an end to this twisted game they were playing.

Two days later when Jack came over, she tried to resist his advances, but it was futile. He was like a drug to her, and she couldn't seem to say no. So when he told her to get on her knees and take out his cock, she did. When he told her to suck "daddy's" cock, she did. When he called her a slut and said, "Sluts take it in the face," she did that too.

After, the guilt was almost unbearable.

He again surprised her by stopping early, after he had made her drink his cum, but before taking all of her. He told her, "Next time, Rachel, I WILL fuck you. But not until you ask me nicely."

The next few days were a living hell. She couldn't concentrate on anything, and every time she closed her eyes, she saw Jack's cock on her face, heard his voice. She knew she had to end it, but how? She couldn't just come out and tell him she wanted it to stop. That would only make things worse, wouldn't it? And did she want it to stop? When they were together she felt alive, wanted. She craved that feeling. And she knew, it wasn't going to stop until she cheated on her husband with him. When she realized that, she felt a sense of surrender. She knew if Jack wanted it, she would let him, she would let him fuck her married pussy.

She waited for him to come over again, her heart racing with anticipation and fear. When he arrived, she made sure to greet him with a smile, a kiss on the cheek. He seemed surprised, almost pleased. She led him to the bedroom, where they had yet to enter together, and closed the door behind them.

This time, she didn't resist when he told her to take off her top and get on her knees. She knew that she wanted this, wanted to feel him in her mouth, his hands on her head, guiding her. She wanted to hear the sexually degrading things he was going to say to her and about her. She closed her eyes, waiting for the feel of his cock against her forehead, the smell of him filling her senses.

"Such a good girl... so ready for me. So ready to act like a slut for daddy."

Her heart raced as she took him into her mouth, sucking him deep, feeling him grow hard against her tongue. She moaned around him, enjoying the taste of him, the feel of him in her mouth. She knew she was his, that she belonged to him now. As she sucked and licked him, she felt his hands in her hair, guiding her movements.

"That's it, baby... take it all... take it deep...show daddy what a good suck slut you are for him."

She could feel his release building, the tension in his body as he neared the edge. She wanted him to cum in her mouth, wanted to swallow every drop. And then, finally, he did. She felt the hot wetness filling her mouth, and she swallowed eagerly, savoring the taste of him. As he was cumming, he suddenly pulled his cock out of her mouth, stroking it, letting spurt after spurt shoot on her cheeks, in her hair, dripping onto her chest.

She looked up at him, breathless, her body trembling with need. He smiled down at her, his eyes dark with desire, his cock still hard.

"Now, Rachel... it's time to get what you've been needing all along. Time for you to feel what it's like to be properly fucked by your daddy." He helped her to her feet, guiding her backward until she was lying on the bed. He crawled between her legs, spreading them wide, taking an ankle in each hand, and positioned himself above her. The head of his cock teased her opening, and she felt a shiver of anticipation run through her.

"Are you ready for me, baby? Are you ready to feel my cock inside you?"

She nodded, her heart racing, her body aching for him. He smiled, "Then put it in... reach down and guide my cock into your married cunt, Rachel."

With a hand shaking with desire, she reached out and took his cock and guided to her core. And with no softness, not preliminaries, no teasing, in one swift motion, he thrust deep inside her. She heard her own grunt and air was pushed out of her. She heard him growl, almost animalistic. She felt stretched, more full than she had felt in years. And when he started moving, she felt pure pleasure.

He pounded into her, his body moving with a rhythm that seemed to echo through her very core. He was rough, demanding, taking her with a brutal grace that left her breathless.

"Oh, you're so wet for me, Rachel," he groaned, his hips slapping against hers. "You're so ready for my cock, aren't you?" He slapped her ass, hard, and she arched her back, moaning. He thrust deeper, harder, pushing her back against the bed until her back ached. "Tell me you want it," he growled, his breath hot against her neck. "Tell me you need my cock inside you."

She gasped, her body trembling with need as he continued to fuck her.

"I want your cock," she whispered, feeling the words vibrate against her skin. "I need you inside me."

He growled in approval, slamming into her again and again. His hands were rough as he gripped her hips, guiding her body to meet his thrusts. "Sexy fucking slut... take it all... take what you need... take that cock, you fat whore."

She felt herself beginning to lose control, her body tightening around him, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

"I'm going to make you come... I'm going to make you scream for me," he promised, his hips slamming harder against her.

His words, his touch, his brutal possession of her body... it was all too much. She felt her orgasm building, rising up inside her like a wave, threatening to drown her in pleasure.

"Oh, God... I'm... I'm going to...," she moaned, arching her back off the bed. And then, finally, she came, her body shuddering with release as he continued to pound into her. He grunted, feeling her walls squeeze tight around him, and with a final, powerful thrust, he let go, burying himself deep inside her.

His weight pressed her down into the mattress, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm. She felt his hot cum spill deep inside her, filling her up in a way she hadn't been in years. He growled in satisfaction, his hips moving lazily as he slowly pulled out of her, leaving her body aching and empty.

"That's how to fuck a big girl. You're mine, Rachel," he rasped, collapsing beside her. "You'll always be mine."