A friend’s mother-in-law is to be punished, I help out

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A friend’s mother-in-law is to be punished, I help out.. If there was one thing I had never tried, it was anal. In a sexually active life from late teens through twenties and into my thirties, I had enjoyed quite a variety. I had been jacked off, cocksucked, done my fair share of tit-fucking, plenty of cunt fucking from basic missionary, to doggy style, wheelbarrow, side-on, woman on top, all in various places and times. Young women, middle aged and mature, thin, fat and in-between. White, black or middle east and given and enjoyed it all. But never anal.

In a multi-cultural city where I lived, it wasn’t surprising one friend of mine was from a Pakistani family. We started off by bidding against each other at car auctions, but eventually got on pretty well. In fact, I was often invited to his home for a cup of coffee and a chat about the evening’s sales. I always knew we were near the house, as I could hear his mother-in-law screeching at somebody, either his wife or their children. Even in the house, she would keep up some kind of criticism.

I didn’t speak their language, but the meanings were obvious, as was the embarrassment of his wife or himself. Although it was his house, mother-in-law was widowed and after their custom, lived with him and his family, and reckoned she ran the place. Not a tall woman, what you could see of her face through the head-covering was sharp and lined with anger wrinkles. Difficult to judge her body, covered as it was in traditional, voluminous dress, but there was enough movement to reckon she had wide hips, and probably arse to match.

Jalal, my friend, was not really allowed alcohol, but I knew a small pub where he would not be known as a local, and we often called in after an auction. It was easy to get him to loosen up, and one evening in November, he really let his feelings known. About his mother-in-law! She had been giving him serious ear-ache about his drinking, and this night he had just about had enough.

“Why is she always in such a bad temper,” I asked Jalal.

“I do believe,” he said, in a slurred voice as drink took effect, “I do believe it is because she has no sex.”

I laughed at his drunken seriousness.

“No, no, my friend. My father-in-law, a good man, died just after I married his beautiful daughter, and her mother always hated me. You see she always embarrass me. It is enough! She must be punished!”

The last words were almost shouted, causing a few heads to turn. I decided he had had enough drink, so quickly finishing my own beer, I steered Jalal out of the door and into my car. As we drove, he continued to mumble, almost to himself.

“Sex, sex, she must be f-f-fucked!”

The cold night air coming through the side screen of the car was beginning to sober Jalal. But not much. Seeing this, but observing he was still angry with his mother in law, I tried to lighten the conversation.

“But,” I suggested, “if she needs fucking to relieve her, surely that would not be a punishment?”

Jalal considered this for a while. Then his face brightened.

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