A Night With My Father in Law

f**k. I am horny. My marriage has always been a cage. Not the kind of cage where there are restrictions, and all you get is food, and the freedom to go to the bathroom or work on fields. This kind of cage is the one that looks like freedom and happiness, but it is far from it, and worse compared to the former. Here I am, on my way to this same cage from work. A company run by the whole family, I get a spot only because I'm married to their son. I grip tight the bag strapped to my shoulders to focus on my walk home from the estate gate. A whole estate built for just father and son—and maybe the family we're expected to create. My mother in law died long before her son could even call her name—she died the day he was born. That alone tells you how evil he is. My thoughts are abruptly interrupted by aggressive droplets of water from above… it's raining. I quicken my steps, as I run to our building. The light are on, I proceed to knock. No response. Nic finally came to the door after series of banging. “Go to the other building, I'm busy” he utters looking at me disgustingly, after finally opening the door, a robe wrapped around his body like it was yanked on with a rush, I can see his f*****g d**k bulging out of it. He tells me to go to the other building when he's f*****g a woman on our matrimonial bed, and the other building being his father's Mansion—in the same estate. His father, Russell Wood, has been on a business trip for 2 years now, so it has been convenient for me knowing he's not home. He shuts the door at my face, and like my routine, I head towards the building opposite to us, the rain still heaving on me. I'm too drained to run, I get to the front of the building, seeing the lights on from inside. I probably left them on the last time I had to come to the other building. My husband and I have never shared an intimate moment in our two years of marriage. He only f****d me once, we didn't have s*x, he f****d me. No foreplay. No intimacy. I didn't get wet, so he forcefully thrust his d**k inside of me and f****d me until he was satisfied. Since then, he didn't bother anymore, and just brings multiple women into our home, and f**k them to his fill. I never bother about it, because it only means more freedom for me. Once in while, when I come to this building, I finger myself when I'm horny, try to pleasure myself, but I am never quite satisfied. It’s been a real struggle. I walk into the house, finally out of the rain. Ready to take of this wet clothes, and find something dry to put on. “What are you doing here looking all soaked?!” I am startled, now shivering from the cold. I can recognize that voice from anywhere. Russell!? He walks down from the stairs, toward me. “I asked you a question” his voice, strong and coercive, just like I remember it. “I… I just had to rush in here cos of the storm” I mumble out without thinking. I look up at him, and he begins to walk toward me, filling the space between us. His dark grey eyes on mine, I feel a surge of heat, almost overcoming the cold. He is half naked, all he has wrapped around his waist is a towel, I can almost see a glimpse of his c**k, his c**k has to be large to pull that off. I have known Russell Wood since I was a teenager, my mom used to work as a maid here in the mansion, the first time I got to come with her was when I was fifteen. Seeing Russell for the first time, I was left dumbfounded, starstrucked, the way his broad shoulders reflects through his shirt, and the bulge of his d**k through his trousers leaves me in awe. I was too young to be having s****l fantasies for a man in his thirties as a teenager, but I never felt guilty for it. I shrugged the feeling off, when survival kicked in, and I was forced to settle for his son. Seeing him now, just brings back old fantasies, if we decide to hide the fact that I have been s*x starved for so long. At age 25, I have not had actual s*x. Never cummed. Never organsmed. He's 45 now, and looks like he hasn't aged a minute. “You're soo dripping wet” he says in a worried tone, I almost mistake what he meant for something else, I snap back to life when he grabs my left hand and heads up the stairs, up to his bedroom. * He hands me his shirt from the wardrobe, a shirt lengthy enough to reach my knee cos I am short—not so short. He should be 6’4/6’5, I am 5’5, so not so short. “Get rid of those wet clothes, I can't see you in them” he orders, his voice causing a throb in my p***y. Sudden heat flushes through my face, I'm hoping it's not so obvious. He walks out. I take off the wet clothes, including my bra and panties. I am left bare. My heart begins to race, everywhere is suddenly hot, I begin to inhale and exhale through my mouth. I can feel the heat flushing through my ski n, hardening my n*****s. Fuck. I am horny.