When my mother-in-law left the house, it was my chance. Ignacia wasn’t there; my mother-in-law had gone. I quickly ran upstairs, went into Andrea’s room—my mother-in-law’s room—and searched through her drawers until I finally found her underwear. I held it to my nose; it smelled exquisite. As I tried to commit that scent to memory, I remembered the first day I met Andrea.

I knew Inna had said her mom was very pretty; Ignacia was pretty, it shouldn’t have surprised me so much that Andrea was a stunning woman; at 48, she looked 28. Her generous curves, her wide hips, her femme fatale gait, her blonde hair just like Ignacia’s, her green eyes, her slender neck, and her elegant attire were all attractive, but her gaze— that killed me, and even more so when I clumsily made a mistake and brushed her face as we greeted each other—the kiss was on the edge of my lips—and she looked at me with that enigmatic gaze without saying a word. That night, the three of us had dinner; she laughed at my jokes, while Inna said, “Mom, you don’t have to laugh at those boring jokes!”

And while Andrea laughed at my jokes, she would gently take my arm; it was really hard not to turn and look at her voluptuous body when I knew Ignacia wasn’t looking at me. I remember when I made sure Inna wasn’t looking at me, and when I turned, Andrea was looking back at me with a flirtatious smile; then she looked forward again, letting me look at her.

When Inna and I got married, things between us started to lose their passion, and seeing Andrea come to our house meant I’d have to masturbate at night thinking about her. But when Andrea broke up with her ex and had nowhere to stay while she got her house back, I was the one who told Ignacia to stay with us—I couldn’t pass up the chance to have my mother-in-law close by, and there I was, sniffing her lace panties, while with my other hand, I thought about how I’d fuck my beloved mother-in-law. I couldn’t help but put the panties between my hand and my penis and masturbate with that fabric that I knew had been touching my mother-in-law’s pussy… I was so turned on, when in a second my semen started spurting out and stained everything!

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When I broke up with my ex, I thought staying with my daughter and her husband would be a good idea—at what point didn’t I realize?!

Maybe I should have warned Inna that her husband was checking me out before they got married; sometimes, just to feel relevant and desired, you let things slide… And there I was... Stunned, watching my son-in-law fondle my underwear. If those papers hadn’t been left behind, I might never have found out, and everything would have been easier. It wasn’t disgust I felt—it was something strange. I think it was fear, knowing I was living with a pervert, but at the same time, I felt sexier than ever…

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I would have gladly stayed there longer, watching him—he was so turned on by my clothes that he didn’t even hear me come in. The paperwork was important, and I didn’t know what to do, so I did the only thing I could: run away… to think…

In the car, as I drove to city hall, so many ways to react flashed through my mind—as many as the stars in the sky—and they all had one thing in common: they all ended with Aníbal fucking me, wildly, almost like a rape, if it weren’t for the fact that I wanted it too. I caught myself biting my lips at the thought of being with my son-in-law; it was the most titillating thing life had ever put in my path, and it’s not like I’m some innocent dove—I’ve thoroughly enjoyed these past 48 years—but taking my daughter’s husband away from her, even if just for a few hours, seemed wrong to me… And that made it exciting…

By the time I got back home, Inna had already returned. The three of us had dinner, I acted as if nothing had happened, but I knew that while he was eating, he was thinking about tearing me apart, and I was thinking about what it would feel like to be torn apart by him. Then I looked at Ignacia, and instead of feeling guilty, I felt flattered that, even though he had Ignacia—the prettiest girl in the world—Aníbal was turned on by me.

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I couldn't believe that much semen was coming out of me—just from thinking about my mother-in-law. The floor was stained, as were my pants and my shoes. I quickly wiped my underwear as best I could with some tissue, and then I set about cleaning the floor. I had to send my shoes out to be repaired, and my pants ended up in the washing machine. Luckily, I was alone.

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