The Mother-In-Law

My current mother-in-law (MIL) is a winner. Don't know why, but she actually likes me. She's a good shit, all around, understanding, normal, and as much of a jerk I'll come across by saying this, she knows her place. That is, her place in our in-law relationship. Her house is hers, and I know and respect that. And my (and my wife's) house is mine, and she respects that. She loves her two grandkids just the way a Grandma ought to, and spoils them with their favorite foods and desserts. She sews their scout stuff for them, and plays games with them. She's just about perfect, in just about all ways. In fact, I can't think of one way that she could better.

Other than being a totally hot, Raquel Welch-looking nymphomaniac, that is. But then I'd have the unpleasant ethical and moral challenge of wanting to hook up with my MIL. Probably wouldn't, but can't be sure, just can't be too sure that I'd be so noble and honest to turn that kind of thing away, especially if she were offering. I'm sure glad that I don't face that challenge, though. She's no uber-hag, mind you, but doesn't make the hot-o-meter flag, sorry.

That being said, this is an older, 60-something woman who likes her sex. Very up front about it, very open and very normal about it, if you ask me.

The first MIL was something quite a bit different. She was a relatively famous female race car driver, a true pioneer and the first in her field in a number of achievments. She was wicked smart, too, which surprised me when I first met her. Not a tobacky-chewing Nascar-wench, she was a very highly educated, hard-science Masters degree-toting brainiac, actually. Very precise, very thorough, and very anal in many things, especially her house. Her vehicle? I thought it would be a Jag or a Maserati, a Ferrari, something exciting and sexy. Nope, not even close. Given the moutainous area in which she'd chose to live, she went totally utilitarian on that, with an ancient International Harvester wagon, a 4-wheel-drive tank. Not very glamorous, but it'd drive through just about anything.

She was fun, and intelligent, but not very, uh, earthy. I remember the look of horror and disgust she gave me one evening after I returned from a trip to the grocery store and said that I'd bought some "asswipe" to replenish the stocks in the bathroom. Whoa, that made me feel small and coarse, and all I was trying to do was be a little light and fun. Damn, like she'd never heard that kind of talk around the track before?

But I digress.

The good MIL, the current one, in place for a good 13 years now, she's surprised me a few times. The first was after the first time her daughter (the wife) and I made licky-sticky in the wife's then basement apartment, beneath Mom and Dad's house. Right out of a bad comedy, we managed to break the bed, the whole thing collapsing through the frame and pitching us onto the floor. We laughed, regrouped, and finished the task at hand. The next morning, over a glorious breakfast of sausage and pancakes and made-from-scratch syrup and eggs and gravy and biscuits, with hot sauce available, no less, she knocked me out when she asked me directly yet clearly jokingly what exactly I'd been doing "to" her daughter to do that to the bed. My opinion of her jumped appreciably, right then and there. Her attitude was and is right, and she's never been uptight about it, not one bit. In fact, when she and the father-in-law conduct their own bid'ness in their own private little space, it makes the efforts of my wife and me seem like a whisper in a sound booth, compared to the caterwauling that emerges from that action. Man, I'm tellin' ya.

So, the wife and I spend some overnights at their house while they're away traveling, and my wife shows me their little private stash of porn. Nothing spectacular, except I see that Mom-In-Law has "borrowed" a couple of magazines from my own beloved stash of porn. Okay. No big deal, but there are some facts to confront: 1. MIL has gotten into the porn drawer; 2. MIL has gone through the porn; 3. MIL digs a couple of them enough to basically steal them and take them home. Okay, again I'm not pissed, and my attitude toward the MIL actually goes up a bit, especially that the two titles she took were basically Totally Wicked Amateur Lesbian Snatch-Lappers, or something to that effect. Okay, so the MIL likes, at the very least, to watch pussy get some pussy. Again, more cool points.

And then my wife shows me the one that just knocked me out. Now, I'm no sexual gladiator, but I've been around enough to have seen and done enough things. I've seen my share of large appliances, but my wife proceeded to pull out the single largest beige plastic vibrator I've ever seen in my life. This was the traditional, intercontinental ballistic missile-shaped deal, smooth about 1/3 of the way, and longitudinally ridged the rest of the way down, with the speed dial down at the end. Basically, an economy model, except that it was a good 20" long. And so thick that I couldn't close my hand around its circumfrence. It was a massive thing, with six count 'em six D batteries inside.

Naturally, we turned the thing on, and it hummed like a Rolls Royce aircraft engine. It made the entire bed shake. It was industrial self-abuse, no doubt about it.

And of course, the MIL sticks that thing up there. Man, what a visal. I couldn't help but wonder how far it would go. Yeah, men think like this.

And that's my tale of my mother-in-law. She's good to go, without a doubt.