Suspecting her mother-in-law of having incestuous sex with her son, after her tragic death, Violet reads her mother-in-law's personal and private diary.

Revised, rewritten, and continued from Chapter 01:

Yet, as if they're back in the African jungle and are naked savages taking whatever they want and whenever they want it, whether they're educated men, successful men, or criminals, I have a way of bringing out the animal in men. Somehow, I boil their base, sexual needs and bring their immoral, sexual desires to the surface. I make them want to do dirty and nasty, sexual things to my beautiful, naked body that they'd never do with their mean, fat, and ugly wives or naïve, innocent girlfriends.

If they can't have me willingly, as long as they think they can get away with it without being caught, they'd rape me. As long as they know they won't be arrested, the men that I turned down for sex grope me while trying to kiss me. As long as they're not prosecuted in a court of law, the men that I reject for sex are intent on stripping me naked. As long as they know that I won't report them and they won't go to jail, men that I've briefly dated have physically tried forcing me to have sex with them.

With no not meaning no, I can't count how many men have exposed their erect, naked cocks to me on a first date. I can't count how many men have forced my hand on their erect, naked pricks while hoping that I'd willingly wrap my long, manicured, black fingers around their pricks and stroke them. I can't count how many men have forced my head down to their erect, naked dicks while hoping that I'd willingly take them in my mouth and suck them. Just as most men want to cum in my mouth, most men want to strip me naked and fuck me.

Even with me screaming while pushing them away, I can't count how many men have felt my ass through my bikini panties and short skirt and/or felt my breasts and fingered my nipples through my blouse and bra. I can't count how many men have stuck their horny hands up my short skirt while fingering my pussy through my panties and while forcing their tongues in my mouth. I can't count how many men have tried pushing my panties aside to finger my dry pussy. I can't count how many men have stuck their horny hands down my low-cut blouse and in my bra to feel my naked breasts while fingering my nipples.

"No! Don't! Stop! Oh, my God. Get away from me. No! Stop! Don't you dare! How dare you?"

Thinking of me only as a sexual object instead of a kind, caring, and loving woman, men want me as a lover and/or as a fuck buddy but not as a wife. Until he gets down on one knee, proposes, and puts a ring on my finger, I won't be a whore for just any man. Willing to be a whore for my husband, I want romance. I want love. I want respect. I want a loving husband. I want a baby.

There's more to life than just sucking and fucking cocks. There's more to life than just sex. I don't want just sex. I want everything that goes along with a successful life and a happy marriage. I want a man to not only love me but also to financially take care of me and our children. I want a man who wants me for who I am as much as I want him for who he is.

# # #

Turning their heads away from God and to the vile influence of Satan's temptation instead, I have a way of turning every good, God fearing, Christian, churchgoing man to a lustfully and sexually perverted man. As if it's my fault that they want me but can't have me, they blame me for sexually teasing them, even when I'm not sexually enticing them. Not even romantically interested in them and/or sexually attracted to them, when I refuse to stroke and/or suck their cocks, they call me a whore and a cockteaser. Whether it's my pretty face, my blue eyes, or my shapely body, men would rather have sex with me than to talk to me.

Most all men want to kiss me while touching me and feeling me everywhere. In addition to giving them a goodnight kiss, most all men want me to give them a hand job while they feel my naked tits and finger my erect nipples. Most all men want to fuck me. Most all men want me to stroke their cocks while sucking their cocks. Most all men want to cum in my pussy and cum in my mouth before cumming all over my face and across my naked breasts.

"With not a gentleman in the bunch, most men are such dirty dogs and disgusting pigs."

Not wanting to be any man's baby momma, whether white or black, not an easy thing to do, I somehow managed to stay away from gangs and from drugs. Nearly every black man told me how beautiful I was, how sexy I was, and how much they wanted me but they only wanted me for sex. Nearly every white man, especially married men, believe that I'd strip naked and get on my knees and suck their cocks for money.

"Fuck you. I'm no one's whore. I'm not a prostitute. How dare you?"

Yet, even though they all sexually wanted me, none of them told me how smart I was or how funny I was. No one told me that they loved me and wanted to marry me. Instead of getting to know me, they just wanted to fuck me. Instead of talking to me, they just wanted to kiss me, touch me, and feel my naked body everywhere. Instead of dating me, they just wanted to take me in a back alley or in their truck, and have sex with me. They just wanted me to suck their cocks and cum in my mouth.

If I allowed them, they'd strip me naked and fuck me in every hole. If I allowed them, they'd tell all their friends and they'd gang raped me. If I allowed them, they'd impregnate me with their baby and then, instead of being a man, stepping up, and marrying me, they'd have nothing to do with me.

With none of the men in my neighborhood having a steady job, no future there for me, I needed to get out of Detroit as fast as I could. Instead of hanging out at the corners hustling, pricking my arm with needles, and shaking my ass for money, I studied, finished school, and eventually moved to Boston to finish my education. Much different than Detroit, even though there are twice as many white folks as there are black folks in Boston, oddly enough, I was more accepted there.

Notwithstanding wherever I lived, even though most men still wanted to see me naked, on my knees, and blowing them while staring up at them, at least now they listened to me. Even though most men still want to fuck me, at least now they respected me. I felt as if I'd have a better life and more of a chance at romance in Boston. Instead of my apartment being broken into and instead of me being gang raped, it was my decision to remain safe and as to who I wanted as my lover. As least now the men in Boston got to know me as a person first instead of just a sexual object.

Chapter 02:

Daddy's Little Girl was the song my father-in-law, John, my unofficial, adopted Dad, sang to me while dancing with me at my wedding to his son, my husband, Michael. Now, every time I hear that song, having grown up without a father and grateful for the way my father-in-law has kindly treated me with respect and with love as if I'm his daughter, I cry. Even though I'm 24-years-old and even though he's not my real father, as far as my father-in-law is concerned, with him always wanting a daughter and with me always wanting a Dad, I'm still his Daddy's, little girl.

"You're sugar, you're spice, you're everything nice, and you're Daddy's little girl," sang my father-in-law in my ear while dancing with me at my wedding.

It was a wonderful wedding with me dancing with my husband's father and Michael dancing with his mother. Yet, something that I didn't notice or even suspect then, but something that I should have known and wonder about now, I remember my husband close dancing, chest to chest and pelvis to pelvis, with his mother. I maintained a respectable distance and didn't make my wedding dance a sexual thing with my father-in-law in the way that my husband made dancing with his mother a sexual thing. I wasn't close dancing with his father in the way that Michael was close dancing with his mother.

Dancing cheek to cheek in the way that he should have been dancing with me, my husband romantically danced with his mother while his hand always rested on the top of her shapely hips. As if he was taking her on his Honeymoon, he held her in the same way that he held me. He held her as if she was his wife and/or lover instead of his mother. He held her as if he wanted to have sex with her. He held her as if he wanted to fuck her. He held her as if he owned his mother's ass, tits, and cunt.

Whether her hand, her arm, her shoulder, her hair, her face, or her hips, he was always touching his mother and she was always touching her son. Unless they're were sexually intimate and/or are still sexually intimate, what son close dances with their mother? Nonetheless, stretching the limits of a mother and son close relationship, something that I could never imagine, even with them dancing cheek to cheek, I never suspected them of having sex.

Why would I suspect them of having sex? Why would they have sex? She was his mother and he was her son. With us just married, why would my husband have sex with his mother? With us dating for the past two-years and with us just married, never saying no, I gave my boyfriend and then my husband all the sex he could handle.

Growing up an orphan, I had no idea who my biological mother and father were until much later in life. Not even knowing their first names, all I knew about them was that my biological father was black and my biological mother was white. Later, I discovered my Dad, Booker, was in and out of prison and was murdered in a drive by shooting.

Some people in the neighborhood told me that my Mom, Brianna, was a stripper, a prostitute, and a drug user who died of an overdose not long after I was born. Even though she was white, with me having the same lush, blue-black hair, fair complexion, and blue eyes, those who knew her said that I look a lot like her. Taking what they said as a compliment, they told me that I was tall, shapely, and sexy like her.

Not having much of a start in life, ready to change all of that, I put myself through college by working while studying. I was surprised to learn that I was eligible for scholarships that were earmarked for poor, inner city kids like me. I received a four-year scholarship from Boston University, my first choice. Relieving a big burden, the only loans I had to take out was to earn my Master's Degree in Fine Arts from Emerson College in Boston. As if I was born to rich parents, with my hard work paying off, my education, room, and board were all paid for in full.

# # #

It's funny the things you never notice until they slap you across the back of your head and you finally have that 'Duh? Aha! Eureka!' moment. Every morning was the same thing, up early and making out while having sex. Yet, unfortunately, instead of making out with me and having sex with me, my husband made out with and had sex with his mother. He had sex with his mother every morning and had sex with me every night. Suffice to write, my husband was always having sex, if not with me, then with his mother.

'He was such an asshole,' I thought when I finally found out that my husband was having an incestuous, sexual affair with his mother. 'How dare he? What kind of man is he to do that? What kind of man cheats on his young, newly married, beautiful wife with his mother? What kind of immoral mother has incestuous sex with her son? What kind of mother-in-law has illicit and forbidden sex with her daughter-in-law's husband behind her back?'

With him a sucker for big, breasted women, my C cup breasts are big but not as big as his mother's D cup breasts. Obviously, my C cup breasts weren't big enough for him. Obviously, he preferred being smothered by his mother's enormous tits. Yet, my breasts are shapelier than his mother's big tits and don't sag as much. Unfortunately, none of that mattered. Michael preferred his mother's enormous breasts to my big tits and there was nothing that I could do about that. Besides, too late now, they're both dead.

As written in her diary by his mother's hand, it was as shocking as it was true. Michael fondled her big breasts and fingered her erect nipples through her sheer, low-cut, sexy nightgown while she slowly stroked his erect prick through the pee hole of his pajama bottoms. Then, removing her breasts from her nightgown, he sucked her big, naked tits.

Obviously, like mother like son, as much as he loved her big tits, she loved his hard prick. Obviously, the sex she should have been giving her husband, she gave to her son. Obviously, the sex my husband should have been giving me, his newly wedded, 24-year-old wife, he gave to his 48-year-old, MILF of a mother.

'That's not right,' I thought while reading all that my mother-in-law wrote in her diary. 'That's just wrong. That's so nasty. All the while that I was dating him and throughout our brief marriage, I can't believe my husband was having early morning, every morning, sex with his mother. I can't believe my mother-in-law was having early morning, every morning, sex with her son.'

I wouldn't have known what they did behind my back had I not found and read Diana's diary. As if she was writing a book of mother and son incest sex, she wrote about every sexual thing they did. With her having sex with her son, ever since he turned 18-years-old, long before I even met him, leading her son astray, she was such a disgusting, incestuous whore. Yet, not blaming my husband more than his mother or blaming his mother more than her son, I blame them both. It takes two to have sex and not just one.

When he wasn't having his wicked, sexual way with his mother's shapely breasts, he was having his wicked sexual way with her round, firm ass, or her warm, wet pussy. Then, masturbating her, after he rubbed her clit and fingerfucked her pussy, and after she quietly had her sexual orgasms without awakening me, she stroked him while sucking him before fucking him. As if they were newlyweds, every morning was the same thing. They had incestuous, orgasmic sex.

With me not having a clue what they did behind my back, they had sex right under my nose. They had sex right out in the open. What started in the living room and moved to the kitchen and, as if they were animals, ended on the kitchen table. Michael ate, fucked, and had sex with his mother where we eat. With them not twenty-feet away from my closed, bedroom door, they had sex while I was sleeping.

'With them having sex every morning, how could I not know? How could I not have heard them? In the loving way they acted around one another, how stupid could I be,' I thought? 'With all the incestuous signs there, I should have known that they were sexually intimate. I should have known that his mother was sucking and fucking her son. I should have known that my husband was licking and fucking his mother.'

Yet, just as I never suspected my mother-in-law having sex with my husband, her son, I never suspected my husband of having sex with his mother. Robbed from having more of a loving and sexual relationship with my husband, the sex that he should have had with me, he had with his mother. The loving attention he should have paid me, he paid his mother. The multiple, sexual orgasms he gave his mother with his fingers, his tongue, and his cock, he should have given me, his wife.

'How dare he? How dare she? How dare they? That's not right. That's not fair. That's just wrong. That's so nasty,' I thought while reading all that my mother-in-law wrote in her diary.

His mother interfered with her our newly wedded marriage. With her son professing his love for me at the altar by marrying me and vowing to be faithful, his mother fatally hurt our loving relationship. Neither of them gave my marriage a chance to bloom and blossom without them fucking up my life with their sexual debauchery and disgusting perversity getting in the way.

'How could they? How dare they? Why would they,' I thought? 'She's such a fucking whore and he's such a miserable bastard.'

In the way that Michael made out with his mother, Diana, he should have been making out with me, his wife, Violet. In the way that his mother stroked his cock, sucked his cock, and fucked his cock, I should have been the one stroking his cock, sucking his cock, and fucking his cock. In the way that he felt her tits, fingered her nipples, and masturbated her pussy, he should have been feeling my tits, fingering my nipples, and masturbating my pussy. In the way that he licked her cunt and fucked her cunt, his own mother, he should have been licking my cunt and fucking me, his loving wife.

As if keeping record, a daily journal, of all they sexually and incestuously did behind my back, and for her to, no doubt, reread and masturbate over later, I don't know who was the biggest pervert, my husband or his mother. As shocking as it all was true, knowing that he'd be devastatingly hurt, I didn't dare show my father-in-law all that his wife wrote in her diary and all that she admitted sexually doing with their son. That would crush him. I didn't dare disclose to my father-in-law all that his son sexually did with his mother. That would kill him.

'How could they? How dare they,' I thought while as confused as I was angry? 'How dare they have sex? Why would they have sex? She's his mother and he's her son.'

Obviously, my husband was just as fucked up as was his mother. Obviously, my husband was as much the incestuous pervert as his mother was the incestuous whore. Obviously, my mother-in-law was just as guilty for having incestuous sex with her son as he was guilty for having incestuous sex with his mother.

Beyond that, with them both dead and buried, unable to ask them, I have no answers. All I had was Diana's diary. Instead of burning it, as if I was reading an incestuous novel by D. H. Lawrence, Jane Austen, George Eliot, Henry James, or Joseph Conrad, I couldn't stop reading it. Reading her diary allowed me to know more about my husband.

# # #

"Oh, Michael. Michael, you're going to make me cum again," she said whispering her sexual excitement in his ear before writing all that sexually happened between them in her diary later. "Rub my clit harder. Fingerfuck my pussy faster. Fuck me deeper with your long, stiff fingers. Fuck my cunt, Michael. Fuck my cunt. Fuck your mother, Michael. Fuck your mother," she said whispering her dirty talk in his ear while knowing that he loved talking dirty to her as much as she loved talking dirty to him.

As if this was her confession and I was the investigating officer reading a police report, I couldn't believe all that his mother had written about having sex with her son. As if I was reading an X-rated novel of incestuous sex between a mother and her son, instead of reading Diana's private diary, I couldn't believe what I was reading. As if I had been slapped across the face, if it wasn't bad enough that they were having incestuous sex, I always thought that his dirty talk was our dirty talk. I always thought that Michael was my sexual man and not his mother's sexual man.

As hurt as I was angry, I had no idea that he had been talking dirty to his mother of all people too. I had no idea that his mother had been talking dirty to her son, my husband. Never suspecting that they were lovers, I had no idea that they sexually did everything that we sexually did. Why he married me when he was getting everything that he sexually needed from his mother is a mystery to me. If he should have married anyone, in the way of Oedipus Rex, he should have killed his father and married his mother.

'How could they? Why would they? How dare they? How stupid can I be not to have known that they were having incestuous sex,' I thought? 'How could I not know that Michael was fucking his mother and that Diana was sucking her son?'
Wanting to learn more about my husband, unable to stop reading about the illicit sex they had, as shocking as it was disgusting and, admittedly, sexually exciting, I continued reading Diana diary. Instead of reading about her incestuous escapades with her son, I read her diary as if I was reading about someone else who wasn't my mother-in-law. As if I was reading fiction, I continued reading her diary as if I was reading about another man, a man who wasn't her son and who wasn't my husband.

"Then, after he masturbated me, ate my pussy, and fucked my cunt," she wrote, "I masturbated him before blowing him. I sucked my son's cock. He has such a beautiful prick. Instead of allowing him to cum on my hand or across my nightgown clad breasts, not wanting my daughter-in-law to know that we were having sex, I took him in my mouth and swallowed him. I allowed him to cum in my mouth and, as if getting away with the perfect crime, I swallowed all of the incriminating, sexual evidence."

Michael's mother, my mother-in-law, my father-in-law's wife, blew her son. I couldn't believe she blew my husband. I couldn't believe she sucked his cock and allowed him to cum in her mouth. She swallowed her son's cum. Wow.

"Determined to quickly make my son cum before his wife awakened, knowing what my son wanted and expected from his mother, I stroked him faster while sucking him deeper," she wrote. "Determined to return the sexual pleasure that he gave me, I loved sucking my son's big, hard prick as much as he loved me sucking his big, hard prick. Indeed, with me silently making all of those cocksucking sounds that he loved to hear, I was a great cocksucker to my son. No doubt, with me having plenty of practice, I was a better cocksucker to my son than his wife was to her husband."

Unable to control myself from masturbating myself, as perversely sick as it was for me to masturbate over my mother-in-law having forbidden sex with her son, I fingered my nipples with one hand and rubbed my clit with my other hand. Unable to stop reading, I continued reading about the illicit love affair that my husband had with his mother. As shocking as it was sexually exciting, even though I was disgusted by it, I was sexually aroused by it too. Diana made me wish that I was Michael's mother instead of his wife.

"Suck my prick, Diana. Blow me," he said humping my mouth. "I need to cum in your beautiful mouth, Mother," she wrote all that her son had said. He put a gentle hand behind my brunette, pretty head and fucked my face. "Oh, my God, Diana. Oh, my God. I'm cumming. Mom, I'm cumming," he said ejaculating all that he had in my mouth. "Don't stop sucking me. Don't stop stroking me. I'm still cumming, Mom. I'm still cumming."

As if I was a perverted man instead of a sexually frustrated woman, I couldn't believe I was sexually excited over reading all that my mother-in-law wrote. I couldn't believe that the thoughts of my husband having sex with his mother sexually aroused me. I couldn't believe I was masturbating while reading about my husband having sex with his mother.

"Not done with him quite yet, I sucked him dry and licked him clean. With every morning the same, he felt my abundant breasts and fingered my erect nipples while sucking my nipples and before French kissing me," she wrote. "Something I loved him doing, I loved having my nipples fingered and sucked. I loved him fondling my big breasts while I blew him. With my son giving me more sex than my husband ever gave me, I loved the sexual attention that my son paid me, his loving mother."

'Oh, my God,' I thought becoming even more sexually aroused. 'I can't believe Diana sucked my husband. I can't believe she allowed him to cum in her mouth. I can't believe she sucked him dry and licked him clean,' I thought.

"Unable to get enough of one another, when we weren't making out, he was masturbating me or eating me. Continuing our forbidden, sexual relationship, when my son wasn't masturbating my pussy or eating my pussy, he was fucking my cunt, his mother's cunt, on our kitchen table," she wrote. "Continuing our forbidden, secret, sexual affair, when I wasn't masturbating him or sucking him, I was fucking him. I was fucking my own son and I loved fucking my son as much as my son loved fucking his mother."

# # #

As sad and depressed as she was sexually excited and sexually satisfied, Violet closed her mother-in-law's diary. All there in black and white and all written by her hand, she still couldn't believe all that she read. Her husband was having an illicit, incestuous, and forbidden sexual affair with his mother. Her mother-in-law was having an illicit, incestuous, and forbidden sexual affair with her son. As if she was reading an erotic story of fiction, instead, this was her life.

Now, with her not having much of a marriage to salvage, especially with her husband dead, her husband cheated on her with his mother. How could he? How dare he? Her mother-in-law cheated on her with her son. How could she? How dare she? Mother and son had sex behind her back while she was sleeping. How could they? How dare they?

'While I lay sleeping, I couldn't believe they were having sex behind my back. While I lay sleeping, I couldn't believe my husband fucked his mother and his mother fucked her son. While I lay sleeping, I couldn't believe my mother-in-law sucked my husband, allowed him to cum in her mouth, and swallowed his cum. While I lay sleeping, I couldn't believe my husband licked his mother's cunt while fingering his mother's cunt. What the fuck? This is unbelievable. I'd never believe this if it wasn't true.'

This was the secret, sexual life that her husband and his mother led out in the open behind Violet's back and behind her closed, bedroom door. If only she had known that her husband had been sexually intimate with his mother, perhaps she would have been able to forgive him for a one-time transgression when they were both drunk. Had she known they were continuing to have this longtime, ongoing, sexual affair for six, long years, she may not have married him. She felt betrayed by not only her husband but also by her mother-in-law. She was as hurt as she was angry.

If only she knew before she married him, she would have beseeched him to get psychological help. Yet, what's done is done, with no turning back now, now that they were both dead and buried, it was too late to change or confront them about the past. Yet, thinking more of her own horniness and sexual frustration, now that she was armed with the incestuous information of her husband with his mother, she wondered if she could use that to her sexual advantage?

'What's good for the gander is certainly good for the goose,' she thought.

With her feeling as horny as she felt sexually frustrated, she wondered about her father-in-law. With him now the only man in the house and possibly the answer to her horniness and sexual frustration, she turned her sexual attention to him. After her husband had sex with his mother, she now wondered if she dared have sex with his father. Could she sexually seduce her father-in-law? Would she dare have sex with him if John was willing to have sex with her? Would he dare have sex with her if she showed him her willingness to suck him and fuck him?

She wondered if her father-in-law was sexually attracted to her in the way that her mother-in-law was sexually attracted to her son. She wondered if her father-in-law was as sexually attracted to her in the way that his daughter-in-law was suddenly sexually attracted to him. Hoping he'd ease her sexual frustration and erase her horniness, she wondered if John would give her sex. She wondered if he'd masturbate her, eat her pussy, and fuck her cunt. She wondered if he'd allow her to stroke him while sucking him before fucking him.

A matter of necessity and convenience with him sleeping in the next room, in the way that her mother-in-law sexually seduced her husband, she wondered what he'd do if she went to him wearing a sheer and sexy nightgown. She wondered what he'd do if she showed him what everyman would love to see of her nearly, naked body. Would he be interested enough to look? Would he be sexually excited enough to stare? Or would he be embarrassed and look away?

In the way that she now wanted to touch him and feel him while kissing him, she wondered if he'd touch her and feel her everywhere a father-in-law should never touch and feel a daughter-in-law while kissing her? With her making the first sexual move by wearing a revealing nightgown, she wondered if he'd make the rest of the sexual moves by having sex with her? She wondered what it would be like to suck her father-in-law's cock and fuck her father-in-law's cock.

With him a man and her a woman, if she flashed him her nearly, naked body, why wouldn't he make a sexual move on her? She was as beautiful as she was sexy. Besides, they were both sad and lonely. No doubt, with him no longer having a wife in his bed to keep him warm, she imagined that he was just as horny and sexually frustrated as she was not having a husband in her bed to keep her sexual satisfied. Justifying her need to have forbidden sex with her father-in-law, it only made sense for them to sexually come together during a time like this.

Showing him every part of her sexy and shapely body, not that she would but she wondered what he'd say if she appeared in his bedroom naked. In the way that most men would love to see her naked, she wondered if her father-in-law would love to see her naked. In the way that most men would love to have sex with her, she wondered if her father-in-law not only wanted to have forbidden sex with her but also would have forbidden sex with her. In the way that most men wanted to see her naked while kneeling on her knees and sucking them, she wondered if her father-in-law wanted to see her naked while kneeling on her knees while blowing him.

Yet, it was one thing to imagine having sex with her father-in-law, it was quite another thing to actually have sex with her father-in-law. With payback a bitch, something she'd never do had she not read her mother-in-law's diary, she was thinking about doing that now. Only, something unimaginable before, she wondered if she could allow her husband's father to see her naked. She wondered if she could allow him, a much older man, a man old enough to be her father, to kiss her while touching her and feeling her everywhere.

She wondered if she could have sex with John in the way that her husband had sex with Diana. In the way that her mother-in-law had sex with her son, she wondered if she could have sex with her father-in-law. She wondered if she could stroke her father-in-law's cock, suck his cock, and fuck his cock. In the way that her husband had sex with his mother, she wondered if she could allow her father-in-law to finger her pussy, lick her pussy, and fuck her pussy.

Something she'd never even consider doing before, with her so very horny and sexually frustrated, especially after reading her mother-in-law's diary, she was thinking about doing now. As payback to her husband and his mother, did she dare cross the incestuous line? Did she dare sexually seduce her father-in-law and go through with having incestuous sex with him? As her revenge, could she really have sex with her father-in-law? Could she use her husband's father to satisfy her horniness and sexual frustration?

# # #

Violet turned her focused, sexual attention to her father-in-law. With him so used and deceived not only by his wife but also by his son, she felt bad for him. Something she never thought about before, she thought about now. She wanted to sexually tease her father-in-law. She wanted to flash her sexy and shapely body to her deceased husband's father, John. She wanted him to see her naked. She wanted to stroke his prick and suck his prick before fucking his prick.

As her justification for sexually seducing her father-in-law, unbeknownst to John, Diana was not only sexually attracted to her son but she had sex with her son, Michael. Unbeknownst to John, as much as Diana was sexually attracted to her son, her son was sexually attracted to his mother. Unbeknownst to her father-in-law, his son was having sex with his mother. Unbeknownst to Violet until now, she had no idea that her husband was having incestuous sex with his mother before they were married and that continued after they were married.

Perhaps, if her husband had married his mother instead of Violet, Michael and Diana may still be alive today. Now, unbeknownst to her father-in-law, with him looking much like an older version of her husband, Violet was sexually attracted to her husband's father in the way that Michael was sexually attracted to his mother. As curious as she was sexually excited, she wondered what it would be like having sex with him, a much older man. She wondered if father was like son in bed. She wondered if he had as big and as hard of a cock as his son had.

To be continued...

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