Again

“Again.”

“What do you mean ‘again?' It’s been over four weeks since you saw them last.”

Gerard Hope and his wife Liz — or Elizabeth, if her mum and dad were around — debated the monthly topic of ‘You don’t care about my mom and dad.’

Following their marriage thirty months ago, this had been the way of it. Gerard tried his best to avoid the dragon mother-in-law Isabelle and her pretentious husband Arthur, making excuses all the time and visiting only on major holidays. He loved his wife but hated how she constantly made excuses for her bad-mannered parents.

“As I said, babe, we saw them only four weeks ago, we went out for dinner remember?”

“Remember? Of course I do — you made a big deal about paying when we got home. Gerry, I’m an only child, they want to make sure I’m happy.”

“Of course they do… but, you know how I feel, little doses are all I can take. I married you not them.”

“Babe, for me, please… just one night together, please.”

“Okay, but I made a big deal about paying last time because your dad keeps going on about how I don’t earn enough. If he’s so rich and well off why is he sponging off me?”

“Gerard!”

“Sorry.”

~~~~~

By the time Gerry finished work and got home, Liz was almost ready. “Gerry, you’re late. They’ll be here soon.”

“If I’m not ready, will you go without me?”

“Nice try, but you’re going.”

“Gotta try, babe.” He kissed his wife as she finished her make-up then showered, shaved, and changed in record time and went downstairs. He opened a bottle of beer as Liz came in, long red hair flowing and contrasting against her dark green dress. “Wow, you look great.”

“Thank you, Mr Hope. You look good yourself.”

“Thank you, Mrs Hope.”

They hugged and he was about to kiss her when the doorbell rang. “We could pretend we’re not in.”

The expression on his wife’s face told him it wasn’t funny. “I’m joking,” he sighed.

They looked around and saw her mother peering through the window, hands cupped around her eyes. Gerry waved. “Be good if I was walking around naked, eh?”

“Gerry, please, you promised.”

“Yes, I did.” He kissed her, walked to the door, opened it, and stood aside as his in-laws marched past. He tried not to bother that they didn’t even run their shoes on the mat.

“Arthur, Isabelle,” he said

“Gerard,” said Arthur, “a beer already? You’ve not long finished work.”

“Thought I would get in the mood.”

Liz greeted her parents in the living room and sat next to them on the sofa.

“Gerard, can you get mom and dad a drink?”

“Sure, Elizabeth.” He emphasised her Sunday name.

“Not that cheap whisky again, son. That stuff you got for my birthday, gives me heartburn.”

“I’ll give you heartburn,” Gerard muttered.

“What?”

“I said I think it’s all gone.”

“So, mum, dad, are you excited about the show? I’ve never been to a hypnotist’s show before.”

“Lot of nonsense,” snorted Arthur.

“Your father doesn’t believe in it.”

“Dad, let’s just go and enjoy the night.”

Theatre

“I remember when this was the grandest theatre around. Look at it now, run down and falling apart.”

Gerard didn’t want to listen to Arthur any longer; he’d complained from the moment they’d got into the taxi. “I tell you what’s the problem with this country, people don’t want to work.”

They picked up the reserved tickets — Gerry paid — and made their way to the bar where Gerry paid.

His wife took his arm. “Thanks for this, I know it’s not easy.”

He kissed her. “For you it’s fine.”

They took their seats

“I thought you might have got better seats, Gerard.”

“Sorry, Isabelle it was the only section where I could get four together.”

“Isabelle is right, Gerard. I mean, for a little bit more money, you could surely have got better seats.”

“You wouldn’t know how much they are.” Gerry smiled at his in-laws before swigging from his bottle again and sitting back. “You never offered."

”Bennie Running took to the stage, introduced himself and said the audience would be in awe tonight. Gerry had purposely booked the early show as it would be tamer for Liz’s parents.

Bennie asked everyone to clasp their hands together — testing to see how susceptible they could be — and Arthur refused, even when Liz encouraged him.

Gerry looked across: Isabelle and Liz seemed to be getting into it. Isabelle looked like an older version of his wife except far less stylish. Her black trouser suit and white shirt were plain and frumpy and made her appear much older than her actual age. He wondered where Liz had got her taste and why it was so different from her mother’s.

Gerry was pleased that Isabelle appeared happy and engrossed in the show, apparently focussed on the performance and the entranced volunteers.

Back home

Gerry paid for the taxi while Liz opened the front door and led her mom and dad into the house.

“Good luck, mate.” Gerry was a little unsure what the taxi driver had meant by his comment. He nodded towards the parents and Gerry realised the driver was talking about the constant complaining — from the show to the prices to his driving.

“You only needed to listen to them on the way here,” he smiled. “I’ve had them all night — and they’re staying over.”

“The old dear seemed okay. But him, he’s a right old misery guts.”

Gerry realised Isabelle had been quiet on the journey back, only Arthur had spoken and moaned.

Once inside, Gerry made for the drinks cabinet. “Right, who’s for another?”

“Not for me sweetheart,” said Liz. “I’m off to bed, but mom would like a cup of tea.” She kissed her husband.

“I can make a cup of tea, no problem.”

“I’ll see you when you come up.”

Liz said goodnight to her parents but Arthur followed her upstairs and went to his bed to while Isabelle waited on the sofa for her tea.

Gerry was annoyed that Arthur didn’t even thank him for the night out and when he handed Isabelle her tea, she took it without a word. He went to the kitchen to finish his beer.

When he returned to the living room, he was surprised to find Isabelle still holding her cup.

“Tea okay, Isabelle?”

“Tea’s okay.”

He sat on the couch and flicked on the TV. But the woman sitting to his left put him off the viewing.

“Are you okay, Isabelle?”

“Fine.”

“Hmm…you seem tired. Why don’t you finish your tea and go to bed?”

The woman immediately lifted the cup to her mouth and drained it. She stood and walked toward the door.

“Isabelle, stop.” She froze. “You still have the empty cup in your hand.”

She looked at the cup and seemed dazed and confused.

“If you want, you can wash it. ”The woman went into the kitchen, filled the sink, washed the cup, and placed it on the draining board. Watching from the doorway Gerry smiled. “You can wash the other stuff, too.” Isabelle put the dirty plates and glasses into the water and wiped and rinsed them before putting them on the draining board. All done, she turned to face Gerry. “You can get me a beer from the fridge.”

She went to the fridge and returned to him, offering a chilled bottle.

“I need it opened; the opener’s next to the sink.”

She walked to the sink, uncapped the bottle, and brought it back to Gerry.

“How do you feel right now Isabelle?”

“Relaxed.”

“What do you think of me Isabelle, honestly”?

“I think you’re lazy and have a bad effect on my daughter.”

“How so?”

“She married too young to you and you can’t give her the life she should have.”

“You mean the life you should have?”

Isabelle stared at him.

“You’ll believe anything I tell you now, won’t you?” She nodded. “If I say that you think I’m the perfect man, the perfect husband, clever, educated, funny and kind — oh, and very handsome — you will believe it?”

“Yes.”

“That’s cool.” Gerry grinned, his imagination racing. “Okay, so let’s sort out some more stuff. You’ll be bored of your husband, his constant moaning and complaining have worn you down and made you old before your time. Now you’re going to become more adventurous and outgoing, more fun, restyle yourself, become more modern.” He knew she was taking it all in and wondered what Arthur’s face would be like if this actually happened.

“Right, I’m the only one you take instructions from, okay? You’re bored with your married life and when you glam up, you’ll see you’re too good for Arthur — and by a long way. You’ll want to be daring and sexy.”

He laughed at what she would be like rather than the little old prude that constantly put him down.

“Don’t get me wrong, you won’t escape your marriage: Liz would be heartbroken. You will stay together — but you will change. Now, when I click my fingers, you’ll want to go to bed and when you wake in the morning, you’ll remember the instructions but forget we had this conversation.

He watched her nod while looking over his shoulder.

“Oh, and please remember to be extra nice to me. The nicer you are, the more brownie points I score with Liz, and the more brownie point the more…” He looked around to make sure they were still alone, “the more action I get.

”He laughed again before snapping his fingers. Isabelle broke from her trance, said “Goodnight” and went to bed.

Gerry finished his beer and then headed upstairs for bed too.

The morning after

Liz was cooking breakfast and Gerry sat reading the paper at the table when Arthur came and sat. “Morning,” he said.“Morning, Dad.”

Gerry looked up from his paper. “Arthur,” he said and nodded. “Can you please get dad some juice?”

Gerry put down the paper and took a glass to the fridge to fill it with orange. When he got back to the table, Arthur had his paper and was skimming the pages. He took the glass from Gerry without looking up or thanking him

.Gerry sat across from him knowing he’d lost his newspaper.

“Morning.”

“Morning, mom”

Gerry looked up and blinked in surprise. Isabelle wore silk pyjamas, her hair was down and she seemed so alive and fresh. Sexy even.

“Morning, Gerry”

“Isabelle,” he smiled as she sat next to the men.

“Thanks for last night, Gerry, we had a great time, didn’t we Arthur?” She nudged her husband.

“Eh, yeah,” he mumbled. “It was good, bit expensive, though.”

Liz grasped her husband’s hand, fearing he would kick off.

“Expensive?” said Isabelle. “How would you know? You never put your hand in your pocket once.”

Arthur dropped the paper. “I, err… well, Gerry knows I’m going to square him up. And why aren’t you dressed? You never have breakfast in your pyjamas.”

“Yes, well, that reminds me. Liz, darling, could I have a look at your wardrobe. I don’t seem to have brought any clothes.”

“Sure, after we’ve had something to eat, we’ll go upstairs.”

Isabelle took the paper from her husband. “Let Gerald read his paper, Arthur.”

“No, it’s okay, Isabelle,” said Gerry. “It’s rude to read at the table when we have company.”

“Well mannered, boy.”

Liz and Gerry looked at each other. He worried he might have taken it too far.

After breakfast, Isabelle volunteered Arthur to wash up while she and her daughter went to sort out clothes.

~~~~~~

When Liz came back downstairs, she sat next to her husband on the sofa.

“Everything okay?”

“Weird, really,” said Liz. “She’s so nice and relaxed, even with you.”

“Maybe she’s just realised that I’m not that bad a guy.”

“Yeah, perhaps. But you should see the clothes she was looking at. I convinced her to go for a casual look.”

“Good, it’s about time she let her hair down.”

Liz shrugged. “Dad,” she called in the direction of the kitchen, “do you want a hand?”

“Oh, err, yes… I need to go to the toilet.” Arthur stuttered.

Gerry whispered. “You know he’s left the washing up all for you, he knew you would offer.”

Again she shrugged her shoulders and gave him ‘I know’ look.

When Arthur went upstairs, Gerry retrieved his paper and started to read. He was so engrossed, he wasn’t aware of Liz coming back until a hand slipped under the paper and across his cock. Gerry held the paper high, ready to drop it if Liz’s mom or dad returned. He wondered if the brownie points from her mom had made Liz feel he needed rewarding for last night’s efforts.

He froze: noise from the kitchen indicated someone had just placed crockery onto the draining board. He lowered the paper —Isabelle sat next to him. But this wasn’t the familiar Isabelle. Short bobbed blonde hair was perfect, she had on make-up, a lot of it, and she wore a pair of her daughter’s jeans and a pink sweatshirt that dropped over her left shoulder revealing a black bra strap.

She continued rubbing his cock over his shorts before slipping her hand inside and grasping his erection.

“What’re you doing?”

“Shush. Let’s have some fun, life is too short. Take a risk.”

“But Liz is—”“Shush.” Isabelle stroked his shaft and leaned to whisper in his ear. “Later, Liz has got aerobics and Arthur’s got dominos at the pub.”

“Isabelle, I cant.” She pulled her hand free as Liz came into the room. Gerry, relieved that Isabelle had pulled free, realised he was terrified, afraid of getting caught and of not being able to push her away.

“Mum, you look so, so…” Liz looked at her husband. “Doesn’t she look so different, Gerry?”

“Yes, she looks so much younger.”

“Thank you, both of you.”

Arthur returned and sat, a signal for Gerry to rise. “Well,” he said, handing the newspaper to his father-in-law, “guess I’ll go for my shower.”

Arthur skimmed the paper before turning to his daughter. “Elizabeth, the Wizard of Oz is on.” He turned on the television.

“Not that again,” said Isabelle. “You watched that all the time when you were a kid, Liz.”

“I know, but I haven’t seen it for years.” Elizabeth pondered her mom using Liz.

Her mom stood. “Well, if you two are going to watch that, I’ll lie down a while.”

She went upstairs, intending to surprise Gerry. He was crossing from bedroom to bathroom when she pushed him inside and the door hadn’t even closed before her lips were on his.

He was shocked, stunned — and turned on.

“Isabelle, I told you, I can’t.”

She tugged at his shorts and exposed his cock. She stroked him, kissed him, and said, “Not later, now.”

“Isabelle!”

She dropped to her knees, put her lips around his cock, and took him so deep she gagged. Her mouth was so warm as she sucked him eagerly, her head racing back and forth. He backed against the door, pressing it closed.

Isabelle was so sexy, he couldn’t resist her. She stood and unzipped her jeans, sliding them down to her ankles before stepping out of one leg. No panties!

She faced the wall, reached back for his cock, and pulled him toward her. Gerry eased into her wet pussy. As he fucked her, Isabelle grabbed his hand and brought it to her mouth. She licked his fingers before sucking on two digits.

With her right forearm against the wall, she pressed back against him and countered his thrusts. His fingers slipped from her mouth and he slipped the hand under her baggy pink top, reaching for her bra. He pulled it forward and her heaving left breast fell from its black cup. His wet fingers scissored and pinched her large, sensitive nipple.

She moaned as he thrust faster, harder, while holding her plump tit in his hand. It felt soft yet firm and smooth as he speared his full length into her.

With her face and chest now pressed against the wall, he put both hands on her hips and slammed into her, his balls slapping against her.

In a short time, he felt his cock thicken and throb — then he was cumming, unloading deep inside her.

Finished, breathing heavily, he sat on the edge of the bath while Isabelle pulled her jeans up and fastened them before kissing him.

“Isabelle, this was wrong, if Liz ever…” She placed a finger on his lips. “We can’t get caught. I don’t want to leave my husband or hurt my daughter — but this wasn’t wrong, Gerry. You’re the perfect fuck and if you do what I say, we’ll never get caught. And we’ll have a lot of fun.”

She popped the breast back into her bra and left the bathroom.

Gerry rubbed his face. ‘What the fuck have I done?’