I was awakened from my deep slumber by the sound of the shower running. Looking across at the bedside clock through sleep-encrusted eyes. It read 03:00 am. Jesus, that's late to be coming home from a girl's night out, I thought, and why would Helen be taking a shower at this hour? She had never bothered in the past after getting home from a night out with the girls.

I closed my eyes and rolled back over on my side. It must have been a good ten minutes before Helen finally slid into the bed and uncharacteristically didn't snuggle into my back. I didn't move and made out I was asleep; of course, nature took its course, and eventually, I simply drifted back off to sleep.

I knew Helen wouldn't get up early, especially since it was Saturday. I got up, went downstairs, and made myself a coffee. I sat on the patio and could not help but think about Helen's uncharacteristic behavior last night.

We had been married five years, and she often went out straight from work with her girlfriends from the office on a Friday night. But she had always been home around midnight or before; if I had been in bed, she would climb in and snuggle up to me. This always ended in a hot session of sex, usually either alcohol-induced or sometimes because some hot guy had flirted with her.

I didn't mind these sex sessions as Helen always got pretty wild telling me her fantasies. Most of the time, it involved a stranger at the bar fucking her in the toilets or against a wall in an alley outside.

I always got turned on by the outrageous dirty bedroom talk. But I couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that it was no longer a fantasy for Helen. I think Helen cheated on me last night.

It was really bothering me, so I did something I had never done before or never had reason to do. I looked through her phone for evidence of a meet-up with a guy. I was relieved when I found nothing, so I decided I was overthinking it and headed upstairs to brush my teeth after breakfast. I quietly headed to the ensuite bathroom and closed the door. Helen was still sleeping, and I didn't want to wake her.

As I brushed my teeth, I saw the laundry basket in the mirror; turning, I saw the dress Helen had worn to work yesterday sitting on top. Curiosity got the better of me, and I picked the dress up. Nothing out of the ordinary. Her lacey black bra was next on the pile, but I couldn't find the matching black underwear I had seen her put on yesterday morning.

I started pulling all the clothes out, looking for her panties, finding them pushed right down the bottom of the basket. I grabbed them, and instantly, my heart sank. They were soaking wet. Opening them up, I saw what I had dreaded most. The gusset of the panties was covered in what looked like and certainly smelt like jizz.

I sat on the edge of the bath, cum soaked panties in my hand. I felt betrayed, let down, and jealous, which turned to anger, which made me feel sick. I shoved the wet panties in my pocket and headed back downstairs. I would make her sweat bullets, wondering what happened to them when she went to do the laundry, and I knew she would try to do it as soon as she got out of bed. If she is cheating on me, she would want to hide it.

After lunch, Helen walked into the kitchen with the laundry basket in her arms on her way to the laundry. If nothing else, she was predictable. So, I sat and waited to see her reaction. It was only minutes before Helen came out of the laundry, looking somewhat anxious, racing past me back upstairs.

While she franticly raced around, retracing her movements, looking for the soiled panties, I calmly placed them on the fridge door with a fridge magnet and waited. When she walked back into the kitchen and saw them hanging there on the fridge, the look on her face was priceless.

She snatched them from the fridge sending the magnet flying.

"It's funny how people react when they feel guilty about something," I said as she stormed into the laundry.

I followed her to question her more, knowing full well she would deny it.

"So, who did you fuck? And how long has it been going on?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Brett. I didn't fuck anyone!"

"Oh, you fucked someone. Do you think I'm stupid? You come home at three in the morning and take a shower. All your clothes are on the top of the basket, but your cum soaked panties are buried in the bottom. That's not suspicious at all."

"Fuck you, Brett. Do I ask you what you have been doing when you go out with your friends and give you the third degree? I said I hadn't fucked anyone, so just drop it. You are starting to piss me off."

"The guilty always get pissed off when they have been caught out. As I said, I'm not an idiot. Those panties you were frantically looking for were full of fresh cum, and it wasn't mine."

"You're a fucking asrehole. You know that don't you? You couldn't just mind your own business. You come in here accusing me of fucking someone else. You had to keep pushing the point. Well, fuck you, Brett. What If I did fuck someone else. So, fucking what. You don't seem to mind when I tell you about it while I ride your dick."

"Thank you for finally being honest with me. And indulging in fantasy sex talk while fucking and actually fucking another guy behind my back is not the same thing. So, I suggest you go pack your bags and get the fuck out of my house."

"If you are going to be an arsehole about it. Just so you know, all those other times when I was talking about fucking other guys, it wasn't fantasy talk. I have been cuckolding you for ages. I was simply describing my latest conquest while giving you sloppy seconds. And secondly, it's our house arsehole, and I'm not going anywhere. Why don't you move out if it bothers you so much."

I could feel my blood starting to boil. She was actually telling me it wasn't the first time. It had been multiple times, then tried to justify her action. And make me out to be the bad guy. I walked out before I did something I would regret, like punch her right in the face. I grabbed a few beers from the fridge and sat on the patio. Wondering what I was going to do.

A couple hours and about eight beers later, I heard the car reverse out of the garage. By the time I got out the front, Helen was driving away down the street. I assumed to go and fuck one of her lovers again.

Twelve beers in, I was sitting outside drowning my sorrows when the front doorbell rang. "Fuck off," I yelled.

I didn't know who it was, but I didn't want to see anyone right now. But they kept on ringing the damn bell. Reluctantly I got up and stumbled to the door. Those beers really starting to hit home.

Opening the door, Merrideth, Helen's mother, was standing there dressed in a super sexy outfit like she was going on a hot date. Merrideth had just turned fifty, and she looked like a glamour model. She was stunning.

During the first gulf conflict, Helen's father was killed in action, and Merrideth never remarried. After Wes had died, she threw herself into work and now owns and runs a very successful real estate business.

"Look, Merrideth, whatever you have to say, I'm not interested. If Helen wants to talk to me, she can come home and do it herself. She doesn't need to send her mother around to do her dirty work. I have nothing to say to you, so just leave me alone," I said before walking away, leaving her standing in the doorway.

"Brett, I have no idea what the hell you are talking about. I'm here to pick Helen up. She is my date for the Real estate annual gala mystery auction tonight. What the hell is going on?"

"Ask your daughter. She is the one that can't keep her legs closed."

"Brett, I have no idea what's going on, but can you please stop being so damn cryptic and tell me where Helen is, please."

"If I had to guess, Merrideth, I would say on her back with her legs spread, getting fuck somewhere."

Merrideth grabbed me by the arm and turned me around.

"Brett, I can see you are very upset right now but can you please tell me what's going on? I'm getting quite upset with how you are acting."

"Fine, do you want a beer?" I asked.

"No, and I'm not sure you really need another either. Why don't you put the beers back in the fridge? Come sit down and tell me what has made you so upset."

"Fine, but I'm keeping the beers."

Merrideth followed me out to the patio. I could see Merrideth mentally taking note of all the empty bottles scattered around. Sitting down, I cracked another one and started talking. I gave Merrideth the entire story, even the part about our fantasy bedroom talk, turning out not to be fantasy talk but reality.

"I'm not sure what to say, Brett. I can't believe Helen would do such things as you described."

"Of course not. You're her mother. Of course, you would take her side and not believe me," I said, feeling pissed off.

"Wait just a minute, you are assuming I don't believe you. I never said that. What I said was, I can't believe my little slut of a daughter would do that to you. Brett, it shouldn't come as any surprise, but I have always thought you to be a fantastic son-in-law. If you remember, I remarked you were too good for Helen on your wedding day. She has always been a handful."

"What, really, you aren't siding with Helen?"

"God no, I know my daughter isn't perfect, but I never expected her to stoop as low as to cheat on you. That's unforgivable."

"I never expected that. I thought you would surely try to justify her actions or something."

"Absolutely not. If what you say is true and I have no reason to think it isn't, my opinion stands. Helen is a fucking little whore. And she needs to know that's not how you treat your husband. I might have that beer now if you don't mind, Brett."

"I thought you were going to a gala? You can't get dressed up and look that incredible and not let the world see you."

"Oh, Brett darling, you are always so sweet to me, but I hardly think anyone is interested in an old lady like me. And hearing what my daughter has done, I'm not really in the mood anymore to be social."

Now it might have been all the beer talking and the reason for what I said next, but I'm not sorry for one second.

"Are you kidding, Merrideth? You are one of the most beautiful and sexiest women I have ever met. And I know this probably doesn't sound very nice, but you are way hotter than Helen. Helen is good-looking, but she pales in comparison to you. You have no idea how often I have jerked off thinking about you in the years I have known you."

There was a really long and awkward silence. Merrideth was just staring at me, so stunned by my confession. I don't think she knew what to say. I was pretty wasted, but I was conscious enough to realize I had just overstepped the boundaries of my son-in-law and mother-in-law relationship.

Merrideth got up and grabbed a beer out of the six-pack. She opened it and necked the entire contents. Looked at me and said, "I know I'm going to regret this. But fuck it."

Merrideth held out her hand to me. I took it, and she pulled me out of the chair. We were now standing facing each other, just staring into each other's eyes.

"You have really jerked off thinking about me?"

"Absolutely, yes, ma'am. I have had the hots for you since I first met you. Hell, I was thinking about that night while Helen and I were fucking at your house, and we got a bit loud, and you were banging on the wall. I'm sorry I know that's totally inappropriate."

The next thing I knew, Merrideth was on her tippy toes, pushing her tongue into my mouth. You could have knocked me over with a feather. This was the last reaction I expected Merrideth to take; I expected her to slap me.

I wrapped my arms around her waist, and she wrapped hers around my neck. And holy shit, was she a hot kisser. Even with all the beers under my belt, I suddenly had a raging hard-on.

"Brett, is that your cock digging into my belly?"

"I'm sorry, Merrideth, it's just you turn me on so much I can't help it."

"Don't you dare apologize for getting a hard dick while kissing me! That's the hottest compliment anyone has paid me for years. And if you don't mind me saying, it feels rather nice and big. Is there any chance I might get to see it one day?"

I grabbed Merrideth around the waist, put one arm Under her, and picked her up, carrying her into the bedroom.

"Oh my lord, Brett, are you sure you can hold me? You have had a bit to drink."

"I'm positive you weigh nothing." Famous last words, never further from the truth.

Merrideth's shoes clipping the bedroom door frame sent me into a drunken wobble across the room. Eventually, we both crashed onto the bed.

"Oh, good save, mister," Merrideth laughed.

It was then I realized how much different she was from her daughter. Had that been Helen, she would have been shitty, and the whole moment would have ended in an argument.

Merrideth rolled onto her side and looked at me before saying, "Brett, this might be where I leave you. You're in bed now, and as much as I want this, I can't. And I want to because God knows I haven't been laid in a couple years. But Helen is still my daughter, and two wrongs don't make a right."

Merrideth slid off the bed and began to walk away, but I jumped up and grabbed her from behind. I felt her body tense as I pulled her arms behind her back, restraining her by the wrists. But the low audible moan that escaped her lips when I kissed her bare shoulder and neck told me she was mine.

My free hand slipped in the gap of her wraparound dress, massaging her beautiful breasts. My lips now kissed their way up to the bit of neck just under her ear. Her nipple hardened in my palm as I squeezed and massaged her soft fleshy tit.

"Oh, Brett, we shouldn't, we really shouldn't. It's wrong. Please let me go before we both make a horrible mistake."

"The only mistake I made was marrying your daughter instead of you. I have wanted you since the first day I saw you."

"Oh, Brett, is that true? Have you really wanted me? Why me, though? I'm old; no one wants an old widow like me."

"I want you, Merrideth. But tonight, I'm not asking; I'm taking what I want."

"Oh shit, Brett, yes, take me, take momma baby, fuck me, I need it so bad it has been too long."

I turned Merrideth toward the bed and pushed her forward. With my foot, I spread her legs apart. Taking hold of the hem of her dress, I pulled it up over her slim arse. Exposing her pink lace thong under her nude pantyhose. Still holding her wrists, I grabbed the crutch of her pantyhose and ripped them open.

I got my belt undone, then my pants, and pulled them down. My hard cock sprang free. I reached down, pulled her thong to the side, and pushed the head of my cock against her mature pussy. As her love petals spread for my invading dick, I pushed deep inside her.

"Oh fuuuuck Brett, Oh, tooo much It's too deep fuuuck. You're hurting me. I'm not wet enough. Please, Brett, go gentle. It's been too long since I've been fucked."

"Stop complaining. I told you I was taking what's mine and you are mine now, Merideth, do you understand," I snarled as I slammed my cock back into her. Making her scream again.

I fucked her hard and fast. I admit it was anger fuck. I was pissed off at Helen and was using Merrideth's cunt as a punching bag for my frustration. The thing was, Merrideth's groaning, and screaming had begun to turn to moaning and wailing.

"You love being treated like a whore don't you, Merrideth. I can feel your cunt is so wet now. Can you hear the obscene squelching noises your cunt is making as I slam my cock into you?"

"Yes, baby, I love you treating me like this. Your cock feels so good inside me, stretching my old cunt. Fuck me. Use me however you want."

"Say it! Say you're my whore, and you want me to fuck you like this every day. You want me to come to your office and fuck you over your desk. Make you scream like a bitch on heat, so all your staff know you are a whore for my cock."

"Oh, fuck yes. I'm your whore baby. I'm cumming, Brett, fuck me. Fuck me in front of my entire staff, show them I'm your whoooore, ooohhhh, fuuuuck, yesssss, I fucking love your cock. Ahhhhh, oooohhhh, God, yesssss."

Merrideth's body went limp on the bed. I slammed into her several more times before pulling out and unloading a river of cum across her arse crack and back.

"What the fucking Hell, Brett? Who the fuck is that slut? And why is mom's car in the drive?

Turning around, I saw Helen standing in the doorway, her hands on her hips, her face all twisted in anger. I simply smiled, my cock slick and shiny from her mother's cunt juices.

"Payback is a bitch, baby. Next time you think it's ok to fuck around behind my back, you might want to think again because if you can do it, so can I. Oh, and your mother's car is in the drive because she kindly let me make her my new whore. You're welcome."

It was beautiful to watch as the penny dropped. Helen realized the woman beginning to stir from her orgasmic coma was her mother, Merrideth.

"Mom, what the fuck have you done? How could you do this to me? You fucking slut, you just fucked my husband," she screamed as Merrideth, still groggy, rolled over and sat up.

"The question should be, how could you not want to fuck your husband? The man just fucked me to unconsciousness. Why the hell would you ever need more than that? I may be a slut, but you are stupid, and I know which one I would rather be."