The Adored Son-In-Law

"Logan, you can be a little rougher with me…"

Late in the middle of the night, the naked woman kneeling on all fours on the bed turned back to look at me. She kept inching her voluptuous hips toward me, yearning for more. Her moist, rosy lips were half-open, and her misty, lust-filled gaze was fully capable of making any man melt.

Just a day ago, I never would have imagined—not even in my wildest fantasies—that I would be conquering my curvaceous and alluring mother-in-law.

My name was Logan Prescott, and I was a 25-year-old married man.

Lately, I had been troubled. My petite, delicate wife simply couldn't handle my thick, extremely well-endowed rod.

On top of that, my stamina was relentless. If I went a single day without release, my whole body felt on edge.

Every time we were together, it ended up feeling almost like an assault, with my wife's eyes rolling back in pleasure just so I could gain the slightest bit of satisfaction.

In less than a month, even her lips had grown two sizes larger.

Things had gotten so intense that my mother-in-law, Maria Walsh, couldn't help but notice. She was my boss and the one who had brought me together with her daughter. At first, she assumed I was a player and had risen to defend her daughter.

When she later learned the truth, she felt a little embarrassed to face me.

That day, I sat in my office, idly thinking about how to improve my wife's skills when my phone suddenly rang. It was Maria. She asked me to meet her in the office.

I knocked on her door. At her soft "Come in," I pushed it open.

The first thing I saw was Maria, bent over with her hips raised, sorting through a cardboard box. As she rifled through the items, her full, rounded hips swayed subtly, catching my eye.

"You're here."

She didn't even lift her head, as if she had already recognized my footsteps. She nodded toward the couch beside her. "Have a seat. I'll be done in a minute."

I said nothing and walked over to the sofa. As I sat down and watched her from behind, I swallowed unconsciously.

If I remembered correctly, my mother-in-law had just turned 40. She was at that age when her desires burned strongest.

Unlike my petite wife, Maria stood at five-foot-six, with a well-kept body and a figure that blended soft fullness with defined curves.

Today, she wore a tight bodycon dress that clung to every line of her body. Her lush hips stretched the fabric taut, and beneath it, the faint outline of pale lavender underwear pressed against her skin, subtly shaping her curves.

That body was pure temptation. The sight alone sparked a wild, almost uncontrollable craving to seize it, to make it mine completely.

"Mom, let me help you."

I walked toward Maria.

As I went by, something in my mind suddenly snapped. Before I knew it, my hand