"Dan, Mary-Jayne needs a ride this evening. Her car is in the shop, and she needs picking up from work. I'd do it myself, but it's Wednesday, and I have choir practise."

"Uh, what did you say?" I mumbled into the newspaper. My good lady's voice soothes my soul in the evening, but in the morning, I do my best to ignore it. Violently, she ripped the page from my hands, and I looked into the angry eyes of my lovely wife.

"You damn well heard me, you old cuss."

"I didn't —"

"Now don't start with me, you crusty son of a gun," she interrupted. "I'm giving you my blessing to enjoy a couple of beers at Smokey Joe's, but you can't be bothered to listen to me. What's the matter with you? I've noticed you've been acting out of sorts these last few days. Is there something you need to tell me about?"

I stared back at the woman with whom I've lived with all my adult life, gave her my most charming smile — then lied my back teeth off.

"Of course not, darling," I replied while trying to erase the memory of our daughter-in-law pissing her pants in front of me. Unfortunately, I was unsuccessful. In my pants, my cock twitched, and I blinked a couple of times, still trying to drive the image away, but it was impossible. Watching Mary-Jayne wet herself while she cut my hair had been so horny it became the catalyst for something that should never have happened.

"At least, I don't think so," I mumbled, running a hand over my closely-cropped scalp, aware of the growing discomfort in my pants.

"You sure, old man? The two of you hardly spoke a civil word to each other last weekend?" My better half stopped talking and looked at me, hands on her hips and eyebrows raised. "I know what you're like; you can be one crusty old buzzard when you want to be. Have you two been fighting?" she asked but continued babbling without waiting for a response.

Just as well.

There was no way on God's green earth I could tell her what had happened. She would never understand or forgive me for burying my face between Mary-Jayne's luscious thighs and licking out her piss-soaked pussy as she lay on our kitchen table. And, if she found out I screwed MJay afterwards, she'd cut my pecker off in a New York minute, and she wouldn't use her sharp kitchen knives, I can tell you for nothing.

While she was doing it, she would also undoubtedly demand to know why — and I couldn't tell her. Not because I didn't want to, but because I was still trying to work out how I'd got myself into this goddamned mess.

Not that I regret what happened; I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Although I love my wife, and would normally never do anything to hurt her, fucking Mary-Jayne was like being on one of those terrifying roller-coaster rides. It might scare you shitless, but you don't want it ever to stop; you feel so alive. Mind you, there aren't many women who could get me to behave so stupidly, but MJay has that effect on me.

She's the bright flickering flames in the night, and I'm a moth, captivated, drawn to them, destined to burn.

Trouble is, I'm too darn old to be messing around. I should know better than to let some floozy half my age lead me into temptation. Mind you; it's not like you can blame me. Mary-Jayne is a mighty fine piece of ass with all the right curves in all the right places, and she knows it. And she knows the effect she has on me.

"Well," wifey continued, "this is what our Good Lord would call a mighty fine opportunity for both of you to bang out your differences."

"Don't reckon it'll do much good," I mumbled and quickly reached for the paper.

"What did you say, Dan?"

"Nothing dear; whatever you say." I smiled graciously — and that's how I found myself cursing both the late evening traffic and my conscience, or lack of one, as I drove my old Ford pick-up across town to collect Mary-Jayne.

o0o

Don't be fooled by my easy-going narrative. As I got closer and closer to my destination, my breathing was laboured, sweat bubbled from every pore, and my heart raced faster than the engine of my trusty old wagon ever could. And my anxiety was well-founded. This evening would be the first time we'd be alone since last week and, unsure of what might happen, my anticipation was a combination of fear and excitement.

To be honest, I felt like a horny teenager going to pick up his girl for prom night, hoping she would feel the same. However, MJay wasn't my girl, and my schooldays were a very long way behind me. That said, Mary-Jayne had made a promise before leaving me alone last week, and Little Dan, currently making a pretty good impression in my trousers of an old Ford's stick shift, remembered what she'd said. Despite the misgivings I had about wanting Mary-Jayne to keep her word — ironically, something I admired about her, amongst a lot of other things — the idea of fucking her again was driving me crazy.

When I pulled into the City Hall car park, my thoughts about what I'd like to do to her would have shamed the Marquis de Sade. And, after applying the handbrake, I had to give my raging hard-on a few squeezes through my coveralls.

Wifey texted me that Mary-Jayne might be late because she was attending an important meeting. Our town is virtually bankrupt and MJay, contrary to what a lot of people thought about her, is an expert accountant and had been called in to sort out the mess. Despite the objections from some of the more snobby quarters,  Mary-Jayne hadn't been born with a silver spoon in her mouth; she had inherited an exceptional brain. However, education doesn't come cheap, and because MJay worked as a hairdresser while she put herself through college to earn a bachelor's diploma, she was still regarded as trailer-trash by some folks.

While I waited, thinking about the paradoxes of life, the bright, flashy lights of Boobers, our town's answer to Hooters, caught my eyes. Not quite so plush as its famous counterpart, the women who work there do everything to ensure the clients are happy. It's not usually my scene, but I'd went on a colleague's stag night, and had an enjoyable evening. To keep the customer's attention where owner Big Billy Bobbins wants it, short skirts and tight T-shirts are mandatory for the female staff.

If MJay hadn't been a highfaluting accountant, I knew she could have earned a quick fortune working at Boobers. With her physique — long legs, comely figure, and blonde hair — she'd have been a firm favourite, and Billy Bobbins knew it. She'd politely refused at least two invitations to join what he called his "Harem." Although I'm biased, I'm glad I don't have to share MJay with the rest of the town's folks. It's bad enough when I see her with our son, especially as David has no idea how to treat his wife.

Oh, when I say 'our son' what I actually mean is 'my wife's son'. The Big 'C' claimed his father before David was even born, and he was only a young whipper-snapper when I met his mum. One thing led to another, and I became his stepfather.

Fortunately, David takes after his mother and is quite the liberal do-gooder, not at all like me — or Mary-Jayne, for the matter. When I see them together, I still can't fathom what attracted her to him. I figure MJay, who is considerably out of his league, took pity on him. Anyway, much to my bemusement and his mother's dismay, they got married. I'll admit I had doubts about the relationship between Mary-Jayne and my wife, but fair play, MJay's engaging personality won over her mother-in-law, and she's the daughter wifey never had.

As for me, I accepted the young woman for what she was: I might be old, but I'm not stupid. Whether by design or natural inclination, my daughter-in-law is a cock teaser, and one of the best I've come across. As much as I adored her, I knew she was trouble. A man can resist temptation for only so long, and I feared that it would be merely a matter of time before something happened between us.

It's a shame I couldn't keep it in my pants — but, in my defence, it's not every day a real American beauty spreads her thighs and demands you fuck the ass off her. And Mary-Jayne has one hell of an ass.

The semi in my pants was now throbbing, and I squeezed it. Blood flooded my manhood and, despite folks being out and about enjoying the balmy evening sun, my pick-up afforded privacy as I reached inside my coveralls.

Unfortunately, I got so carried away that I didn't notice that the woman fueling my carnal lust was approaching the vehicle. So, I can't tell you how long she'd been watching me, but I do know she scared the living crap out of me when she tapped the window.

"Hey, you dirty old bastard, don't go wasting that fine-looking erection," she laughed, and before I could react, she'd yanked open the door. Anything I was going to say, disappeared from my mind.

Standing there in a crisp white blouse, a respectable length skirt, and stockings — though they might be pantyhose — she looked stunning. With her hair in a loose bun and wearing glasses, she looked incredibly fuckable. My cock throbbed some more, but I hurried to extract my hand from my coveralls.

"Hello MJay, how are you this fine evening?"

"All the better for seeing you. Is this a voluntary deed, or were you ordered here?" Her knowing smile broadened.

"A bit of both," I replied. "But, now that I'm here, I'm mighty glad I came, and so is Little Dan. You look particularly fetching dressed like that, if I may say so. Makes me wish I was young again."

MJay climbed into the cab and slid across the bench seat. Her lips brushed mine, and she pressed a hand on top of the sausage-shaped bulge in my pants. "Don't you worry about that, I don't care how old you are, you'll do for me. Now, unless you're in a hurry to get home, why don't we go the old road back and I'll take care of Little Dan for you?"

"Yes ma'am," I said, quickly shifting the Ford into gear as she leaned against me and continued caressing my engorged manhood. "Your wish is my command." MJay squeezed my cock, and I inhaled deeply. "Tough day, Missy?"

"Yeah, I had to meet with some of the council's accountants to try and find out why the city's bankrupt. What a bunch of assholes — they're so fucking holier than thou. According to them, they've done nothing wrong, and it isn't their fault. It was impossible to get them to admit to anything, and I had to kiss a lot of butts today to get access to all the files I need. I don't mind if it's the right butt…" and she gave me a 'yours is' smile.

I chuckled. MJay was like an attractive Bulldog; people smiled at her condescendingly, consistently underestimating her tenacity, and then cried out in surprise when she bit them in the ass. Once she got her jaws into something, she never let go. It was rather lovely hearing her bitch about her day as I navigated the traffic.

"Shouldn't have to put up with their crap," she continued. "I'm trying to help, but all they care about is looking up my skirt or down my blouse, fucking perverts. And when I asked them what they were doing, they simply shrugged their shoulders, like naughty boys caught with their hands in the cookie jar and tried denying it.

"The town's in deep shit, and they don't seem to care. It's not just their fault; the Mayor has to take some of the blame. He's the biggest asshole of them all, and allowing this mess to reach such proportions is a gross dereliction of his duty."

She was building up a good head of steam.

"The mayor ogled you, MJay?"

"Sure." She giggled. "Tom couldn't keep his eyes off me. It got so bad, I even thought about opening my blouse to show him what he so clearly wanted to see, and then maybe we could get some work done."

When we'd passed the town's outskirts, my heartbeat increased as I draped an arm over Mary-Jayne's shoulder and cupped a handful of soft tit. I squeezed the full mound and heard my daughter-in-law's soft moan. I felt a nipple stiffening and doubled my efforts.

"Dan, I've been drinking coffee this afternoon and..."

"And you need to take a piss," I interrupted gruffly.

"I surely do." There was a brief silence. "You gonna stop the truck?"

"Nope."

"Not even if I beg?" She sounded very earnest. MJay would have made an excellent actress.

"Nope, not even if you beg."

"What if I can't stop myself?"

"I've heard fingering yourself helps delay the need to pee. Maybe you should consider doing that."

"Maybe I should," she said, squeezing my cock again. "Or I could ask you to do it for me."

Her attempt at a light tone did not disguise her longing. "Is that what you want?" I asked and felt her squirm beside me.

"Maybe..." Mary-Jayne tensed, and I thought a spasm coursed through her.

"What d'ya say?" I asked, enjoying the banter.

"Yes, Dan," she almost yelled. "I want you to fucking frig me. I want you to fuck me, but most of all, I need to pee. There, are you happy now?"

I grinned.

"Now then, reckon I can do that, Missy. In fact, I'd like that mighty fine."

In the brief silence that followed, I heard the rasp of my zipper. "You want me to blow you, old man?"

"Now you're talking my language, darling," I said as agile fingers slipped into my boxers. 

Within seconds, my engorged member was poking through the opening in my coveralls, while Mary-Jayne hoisted her lovely long legs onto the seat and slumped against me. As she settled next to me, the top of her blouse had accidentally come loose, and MJay's breasts looked more inviting than ever.

Without asking, I slid a hand inside her bra to resume my attack on her nipples. Glancing down at my gorgeous daughter-in-law, I saw the excitement in her eyes as her lips rested on my spongy dome.

"Damn, you look good, like that, MJay."

I meant every word of it. Maybe it was the situation — or perhaps Mary-Jayne always looks like that when she's acting kinky; I can't really say but, lying there next to me, I do know Mary-Jayne's whole quintessence seemed more intense.

Beneath the occasional streetlight, her blue eyes shone like crystal; her makeup was impeccable and, despite having worked all day, her hair was full and lifelike. She'd given up on her bun, and her locks now cascaded around her face. Each time she flicked it back so that it didn't impede my viewing pleasure, that hungry smile almost blew my mind.

"This turning you on, MJay?" I asked but had to wait for a reply because she was still devouring my shaft. When she finally released me, she did so with a rude plopping sound and a devilish smile.

"Why don't you find out for yourself, old man?" she said, pulling up her skirt. "C'mon, you old fart, give me a hand here. I'm so fucking horny."

Moving my hand from her bra, I grabbed the silky hem of her skirt. Working together, we had that darn garment around her hips in seconds, and MJay held my hand, putting it exactly where she wanted.

I flexed my fingers against her panties and pantyhose — hmm, not stockings, after all — and felt her heat. Pressing firmer, I heard a soft moan.

"Jesus, old man, if you keep that up, I'll fucking wet myself," she cried, clamping her thighs together. "I've been so busy today; I haven't had time to go to the loo, and I can't hold it much longer." She clenched her teeth.

"Don't worry, darling… you do what you gotta do, and I'll do what I gotta do," I croaked. Unlike her pussy, my mouth was a little dry.

"Hmm, you're so good to me, old man," she purred before flicking her tongue over my cock. "You've no idea how long I've been waiting for an opportunity like this."

I didn't understand, so I waited for her to elaborate.

"Ever since I caught you looking up my skirt that time, I've wanted you. You've no idea how much I had to restrain myself from shoving my hand down my knickers that day. God, your peeking got me all hot and bothered, and that's when I promised myself I would have you." After that outburst, she parted her beautiful lips and put her mouth to better use. Feeling Mary-Jayne engulf my meat, I sat there flabbergasted. 

For the next few minutes, I had trouble keeping the pick-up on the right side of the road, mainly because Mary-Jayne's mouth was proving too much for me, and secondly because my conscience was proving to be a pain in the ass. 

MJay's lips wrapped around my cock was so low down; it doesn't bear contemplation. In my mind, I felt I could crawl under a rattlesnake and not even tickle his belly. However, the simple fact was I couldn't help myself, and neither could Mary-Jayne. 

Usually, I'm a stand-up guy. The sort of person friends and colleagues turn to when they want help or advice. I pay my taxes, and I'm a good, dependable family man — at least I was until last week. However, after watching Mary-Jayne deliberately piss her knickers, my common sense took flight. Seeing her act like trailer trash, I had to fuck her, and— after she begged me — I had,...