Fucking My Father-in-Law: Cuckold Husband & FIL DIL Taboo Novel – 17

I was not all the way used to him.

Even after I had sat down to the root. Even after three climaxes. my Father in law’s cock was still a thick, living fact inside me, stretching my pussy around a cock my marriage had never prepared me for. I lay on his chest and felt him pulse. Not thrusting. Just existing. Filling.

Then he started to go upward.

Slow.

The first lift of his hips pressed the fat head into a place Rohan had never found. Deep. Forward. A blunt, sweet pressure that made my mouth open on his skin.

“Dad— gentle. Please. Be as gentle as possible.”

He was.

It still felt like I was being stretched to my limits.

He moved it up and down in tiny strokes. The drag was huge. My walls clung. I could feel every vein. He took my wrist and put my own hand on my hip, then on his, guiding me, teaching my body the pace like he taught files. The fact of his big hand steering mine turned me on so hard I got wetter around him.

Then my hands started to set the pace.

I rose a little. Sank. Rose.

I felt more blood pumping into his dick without it even moving much. He swelled inside me. Thicker. A slow, dirty inflation that made my eyes blur.

I slowed.

I stared down at his face.

Moonlight on the bald head. On the mouth that had been in mine.

What the hell am I doing.

The thought landed clean.

This is my husband’s father. I am his daughter-in-law. Rohan is in Bangalore. This cock is Father in law. Papa. Daddy. The man who said the house was big enough.

I was about to put a stop to it.

Then he opened his eyes and looked directly into mine.

My eyes must have been shining. His smile was not the office smile. It had so much heat in it, and something that felt like care, that it warmed the panic in my chest.

I knew I could not stop.

I started moving again.

I did everything I could to give him more of those sounds. I wanted him to hear what he was doing to his son’s wife.

“Ooh— ungh— mmm— ungh—”

He held my hair. Not rough. Claiming. He kissed me while I rode those slow strokes, and the kiss was violent compared to the fuck. Mouth hungry. Tongue deep. Below, he stayed gentle, and the contrast wrecked me.

“Oh God. Here it comes. I am coming.”

I said it into his teeth.

He did not pull out. He kept that thick cock working my tight pussy — the pussy that belonged to Rohan — and I clenched, shaking, moaning against the man who was impressing his daughter-in-law with a kind of fucking his son had never learned.

“Ugh— yeah— ungh—”

He pulled me close for another kiss.

Then he started to push deeper.

I did not think there was deeper.

There was.

Every inch felt like it was splitting me in half in a satisfying way. The pain of the size difference drowned under the pleasure. When he bottomed me out, when his hips met mine and there was nowhere else to go, I felt stuffed to the belly. Full. Claimed.

He fucked me as gently as a man that big could, and he still fucked my brains out.

Even without force I could not think.

I could not make a pretty sentence.

I could only feel how good it was, and the filthy truth under it:

He is my husband’s father, and he is fucking me better than his son.

It was just so big that the rest of the world fell off the bed. No Salt Lake. No anniversary. No flight. Only that heavy cock sliding in my soaked cunt, kissing me hard, hand in my hair, the other on my ass, keeping me seated so I could not escape the depth.

I realized, slowly, that he was going deeper on each careful stroke. Not faster. Deeper. Like he was searching for a room inside me that had been locked.

He found it.

A press so low and high at once that I felt it behind my navel. A blunt kiss against a wall Rohan had never touched. Never. Not on our best night. Not when I tilted and hoped.

“Dad— that place— your son never— he never reached here—”

Father in law made a sound in his chest and kept the same gentle rhythm, hitting that same impossible spot until my thighs shook.

I clung to him.

Tits to his chest. Mouth to his mouth. Pussy stretched around the root of my father-in-law.

The moonlight stayed on us.

I did not stop him.

I had looked at his face and chosen not to stop.

And deep inside, where Rohan had never been, His father’s cock kept teaching my body a new depth, stroke by slow stroke, while I moaned into the kiss and let his son’s wife be fucked like she had been waiting years for this exact, dangerous filling.

I felt him in me even when I only breathed.

A thick, living shift. In. Out. Not much. Enough that every breath made Father in law’s cock kiss that deep place again.

He finally put it all the way in and held.

Honestly, I started to lose track of time.

The room went soft at the edges. Moon. His chest. The wet sound of my father-in-law fucking his son’s wife in slow, heavy strokes. I came again. I think I came after that too. When I found my mind, I was already a few orgasms in, shaking on top of him, my Punjabi curves plastered to his body, my pussy stretched around a cock that would not get smaller.

Then I heard him.

“Simran. I am going to come.”

I begged for it.

“Yes. Dad. Inside. Please. Give it. Fill me. I want your cum in your son’s wife. Do it. Do it—”

His dick lurched.

I felt the flex, a hard kick against my walls. He pushed with more force than before. Not cruel. Just final. He jammed that oversized log deep and kept thrusting through it, short brutal pumps while he groaned into my neck.

Heat.

Pulse after pulse.

Thick ropes painting me from the inside. So much I imagined it. So much I felt it spill around the seal of his root.

When he finished I was lying in a puddle of us. His cum. Mine. The sheet under my knee was cold-warm and filthy. I was exhausted. Desperate for a break.

He was still pretty big.

He started to pull out slowly.

The stretch went in reverse. Every inch that left scooped more of his semen with it. A heavy leak followed the head. When his giant cock finally came free, it slapped against his stomach, shining, and a thick line of cum ran down my inner thigh.

I stared at it.

Rohan had never left a mark like that. Rohan left a polite wetness and a sorry.

I took Father in law’s cock in my hand while it was still fat and messy. I put it back against my pussy. I tucked the head inside again, just the head, and sank enough to hold him there, sitting on top of him, and I kissed his mouth.

He went stiff.

“It is wrong,” he said against my lips.

I smiled, dazed.

“What is wrong?”

His hands held my waist like he might lift me off and also like he might never let me go.

“What is going on here? What are you doing?”

I kissed the corner of his mouth.

“I just wanted to fuck my father-in-law.”

The honesty made him exhale hard.

I lifted a little so he could see, then pressed down until his thick cock rested along my soaked slit, not fully in, just lying there, a giant wet claim on a daughter-in-law.

“Check,” I said, playful, wrecked. “See how my father-in-law’s giant cock takes rest on his Punjabi daughter-in-law’s pussy. Look, Dad. It does not even fit on me. It covers everything. Your son’s wife is a cushion for it.”

“Simran.”

“Papa.”

“This is Rohan’s bed in this house. This is Rohan’s—”

“Rohan is in Bangalore.” I rolled my hips once, smearing his cum along my clit with the underside of his shaft. “You took care of me. You filled me. Now you are shy because the cock is resting?”

He shut his eyes.

“I came inside you.”

“I begged.”

“You could—”

“I know what I could.” I took his face in both hands. “Look at me. You asked what I am doing. I am keeping you. I am not finished being your secret. My pussy is sore and open and leaking your cum down my thigh, and I still put you back. That is what I am doing.”

A laugh broke out of him, short, disbelieving.

“You talk like the beer.”

“The beer left hours ago. This is me.” I kissed him again, slower. “You fuck better than him. You kiss better than him. You come like a man who owns the room. Do not go back to wrong while your cock is kissing my cunt.”

“It is still wrong.”

“Then say it while you hold my ass.”

His hands, traitor, squeezed.

I moaned into his throat.

“See. Your mouth says father-in-law. Your hands say mine.”

“If we do this again it will not stay gentle,” he said, voice low, warning and promise tangled. “I held back. You were tight. I was careful. If you stay on me like this I will not be careful next time. I will use you. I will fuck my son’s wife the way that cock wants. Hard. Deep. You will feel it when you walk.”

Heat went through my sore body like new wine.

“Good.”

“Simran.”

“Say it dirty if you need to scare me. It is not working.” I lifted and let just the head pop in, then off, then in. “I came on you three times before you even finished. I can take a rough hour. I want a rough hour. Anniversary night, Dad. You stepped in. Now finish the job like the man from the glass office. Not like the man who runs to the washroom.”

His eyes opened. Dark. Hungry. Still guilty.

“You will say stop if it is too much.”

“I will say Daddy harder if it is not enough.”

He almost growled.

I put his palm on my breast, the other on the mess between my legs, on the place where his cock rested, huge, wet, waiting.

“This pussy is leaking you. This mouth already took all of you. The next part is you putting me on my back or on my knees and reminding me I married the son and spent the night on the father.”

“You are dangerous.”

“You said that in the car.” I smiled. “Now your cum is my lube. When you go rough, use it.”

He stared at my face as if he were signing a contract.

“Five minutes,” he said. “You rest. Water. Then I am not asking again. Then I fuck you properly.”

“Properly meaning filthy.”

“Properly meaning I stop treating you like glass.”

I sank down, let that giant cock lie on my pussy again, and kissed him with my whole tired, shining body.

“Deal, Dad.”

The puddle under us cooled.

His heartbeat hammered against my tits.

And in the dark I felt the next hour standing up already, thick against me, getting ready to stop being gentle.

One thick movement. The world flipped. My back hit his mattress and father-in-law came with me, still inside, that big dick already seated in my soaked pussy, missionary, his weight blotting out the moon.

I gasped so loud it scratched my throat.

It felt like my body was being stretched in ways it had never been stretched before. Cowgirl I had controlled the drop. This was him. Gravity and muscle and a cock that used my tightness as a tunnel. My nails dug into my father-in-law’s back. I kept mumbling into his shoulder.

“Too big— Dad— I cannot take it— you are too— Papa—”

He held my hips down.

He kept thrusting deeper.

Every time I thought it was too much, a wave of pleasure hit harder than the fear. My legs were spread wide, opened by his hands, knees high. I felt completely overpowered by his cock size. Not romance. Occupation. Rohan’s wife pinned under Rohan’s father, stuffed so full my thoughts arrived late.

Psychologically I split.

One part counted the crime. Husband. Bangalore. Anniversary. This bed. This man.
The other part opened like a door that had been stuck for five years. This is what a body is for. This depth. This weight. This helplessness that I asked for.

I only had a second to catch my breath.

Then his hand found my throat.

He started choking me.

I had never been choked in sex before. my husband held my face. father-in-law held my airway. It was a different feeling entirely. Not theatre. Control. His palm was huge. His thumb sat near my jaw. He started choking me harder, and his dark eyes locked on mine, searing into me as if he were reading the girl who had said Daddy harder and checking whether she had meant it.

He slapped me across the face.

Hard.

The rush was indescribable. I had NEVER been slapped during sex. Heat bloomed on my cheek. Shame and electricity braided together. My pussy clenched on his driving cock so tight he groaned.

He increased the speed.

He rammed into me, all the while still choking me.

The slaps of his hips on my wet skin filled the room. His giant cock punched that belly-deep place again and again. My tits shook. My mouth opened under his hand and almost no sound came. Light bloomed at the edges of my vision.

I was getting very light-headed from the choking.

That light-headedness unlocked a level of orgasm I had not yet achieved. Not the pretty ones from riding. Something darker. A drop. My body seized under him, helpless, coming around the cock that belonged in another life, while his son’s wife went tight and soaked and shaking.

A strange chuckle flickered through my fading head.

If this man accidentally killed me, at least I would have died doing what I love.

Fucking my hungry father-in-law.

He did not stay on my throat.

Father in law pulled his hand away and air rushed back in, raw and sweet. I coughed once. He was still thrusting, still stretching me open with that heavy father-in-law cock, in and out of a pussy that already felt claimed.

His mouth dropped to my tits.

He sucked.

Hard.

Then he bit, light, then less light, teeth on the swell, tongue on the nipple he had only squeezed through a dress before. My back arched. A wet pop when he switched breasts. He left shining marks. He fucked me through it, each stroke dragging his thick shaft along walls that would not close.

I had probably come four times by now.

The fourth one snuck up while he was biting. No warning speech. Just a lock in my belly and a broken sound as my cunt seized on him. He groaned into my tit like the clench was a compliment.

Sweat ran between us. His bald head shone. His dark eyes flicked up from my chest and found my face.

Like the gentleman he was not, and also was, he told me the truth.

“I am coming.”

I wrapped my legs fully around his back.

I pulled him in deeper.

I looked him directly in the eyes.

“Do it. Fill your daughter-in-law’s pussy.”

Something in him dropped.

He practically dropped all his weight on top of me, pinning me down. He is much taller. Much heavier. I was basically one hundred percent beneath him, a smaller body buried under the man who paid for this house. He pounded my pussy relentlessly, moaning, grunting, the wet slap of hips on soaked skin, his giant cock punching that deep belly-spot on every stroke.

“Dad— Papa— fill me— fill Rohan’s wife—”

He shoved into me one final time.

I felt his cum fill me up.

Not a polite pulse. A thick, kicking flood. Rope after rope jammed against my cervix while he held that last depth like a claim. Every thrust before it had slammed so deep I could barely breathe. I kept moaning louder even though my head was spinning. My body felt ruined, but in the best possible way.

When he came, he stayed buried deep inside me, holding me down like he did not want to let go.

I was trembling.

Sweat dripping.

My pussy throbbing from being so stretched, fluttering around a cock that was still fat, still leaking into me.

All I could think was how much I loved it.

The soreness.

The ache.

The way my body felt used and stuffed full.

His semen already in me from the first round, now packed in again, warm, filthy, sliding out around the seal of his root when he flexed.

Fuck.

It was addictive.

I kept my legs locked around my father-in-law’s back and stared at the dark ceiling over his shoulder, wrecked, smiling, full of Father in law, and I did not ask him to pull out.

When he rolled off me, the empty feeling made me gasp.

Father in law’s warm cum started dripping from my throbbing, soaking wet pussy onto the equally soaked sheets. A thick line. Then another. I put my fingers there without thinking and felt how open I was, how used, how full of him.

He laid down next to me.

We both came down.

The fan moved hot air. My cheek burned where he had slapped me. My throat felt held. My tits ached from his mouth. Between my legs I was a wet, pulsing argument.

His arm went under my head anyway.

I turned into his chest like the crime could also be a bed.

He kissed my hair. I kissed the salt on his skin. Small smooching, lazy, not hungry anymore. The kind of mouth that says still here.

His voice came out rough and almost shy.

“Did you know I was going to like it that rough?”

I smiled against his collarbone.

“Ya. I had a pretty good idea. Do not ask me how, but I think I saw it in your eyes.”

He huffed a tired laugh.

“Well. Whatever it was, I am glad you figured it out. That was amazing.”

I lifted my face. Kissed the corner of his mouth. Then his lower lip. Soft.

“I liked it, Dad. Did you find your DIL amazing?”

He looked at me in the dark. His big hand spread on my bare ass, not grabbing to fuck, just keeping me.

“Yes,” he said. “My daughter-in-law is amazing. That mouth. That pussy. The way you told me to fill you. I should not say it. I am saying it.”

I traced a circle on his bald head with one finger.

“Rohan never made me come from dick alone,” I whispered. “I did not even know I could get there like that. I did not know I could squirt. Tonight I lost count. You were in so deep I thought my body broke, and then it just… gave.”

His thumb stroked my hip.

“You soaked the bed.”

“We soaked the bed.” I kissed him again, longer. “Your cum is still coming out of me. Feel.”

I took his hand and put it between my thighs. Mess. Heat. His own spend leaking from his son’s wife.

He groaned, quiet.

“Simran.”

“Papa.”

“If I keep my hand there I will start again.”

“Then cuddle first. I am shaking.”

He pulled the sheet over us even though the sheet was a crime scene. I hooked a leg over his thick thigh. My wet pussy smeared his skin. Neither of us moved it.

More kisses. Slow. The violent ones from before had turned into something almost married.

“You choked me,” I murmured.

“You came.”

“You slapped me.”

“You clenched.”

“I liked both. I did not know I would. Do not do it in the kitchen tomorrow.”

“I will pour tea like a saint.”

I laughed into his mouth.

“Liar.”

“Yes.”

Silence for a while. Only breathing. His heartbeat under my palm, still large, still the heartbeat of the man from the glass office.

“Rohan texted you to take care of me,” I said.

“I took care of you.”

“That is one word for it.”

He kissed my forehead.

“Sleep. You will be sore. The house will still be here in the morning. I will still be your father-in-law in the morning. We will decide what that means when the sun is honest.”

“And tonight?”

“Tonight you stay.”

I nodded.

I kissed him once more, soft as the breeze at the curtain.

My thighs stayed open against him. His cum kept leaving me in small warm thefts. The addiction sat in my belly like a second sleep.

I closed my eyes on my husband’s father’s chest.

Father in law’s arm tightened.

We slept.