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INGRID movies together This was after Old



chinese FATHER-IN-LAW

Ingrid was sure it was her cutoff old Bags that did it. In summer she

used to wear that whenever she goes to the corner shop. She had very

little doubt of the effect the clothes she wore had on men. There were

the wolf whistles. Sometimes there were just the lecherous glares she

got. But all were unmistakable. She couldn't blame them. She was a

woman proud of her body. All five foot eight and 120 pounds of solid

flesh. She supposed the clothes she wore accentuated the fact that

there was a real live wire underneath waiting for the right man to come

along and tap it and put it to good use.

And when it finally happened, it had to be in summer. It was the day

Old Bag, old Foo's wife had had an accident. old Foo was away at work.

She had been trying to change a light bulb. There was no ladder, so she

had just piled a chair on top of a writing table. Normally he would do

it. But that day she had decided that she wasn't as useless as he

thought she was and was perfectly capable doing one simple job. Fixing

the light bulb wasn't a problem. But when she was getting down, she

missed her footing and landed on the floor with a thud. Bones,

especially in the lower leg of a middle-aged woman, were not built to

withstand a fall from five feet above floor. It was too much to expect

them to withstand the pressure especially when one had not been fully

trained on the art of breaking falls.

When she tried to get up she found that her left leg was numb. She had

twisted her ankle when she landed and it had instantly turned into a

slight swell. Ingrid came rushing from her bedroom.

"What happened?" a concerned-looking Ingrid asked excitedly.

"I think I twist ankle," she said in pain.

"Don't move. Just sit right there," said Ingrid as she rushed to the

phone and dialed the hospital. "What were you doing anyway?"

"Changing light bulb."

"Hello, can you pass me to emergency, please...Thank you..."

When finally, she was passed to the emergency section, Ingrid rattled

off the address and informed the person on duty that there had been an

accident. The lady on the line asked what the nature of the accident

was and Ingrid said it was probably a broken leg.

Saying it was a sprained ankle, she thought wouldn't get too much of

their attention. They might not think it serious enough to send an

ambulance, she thought. She hasn’t had too many fond memories of Hong

Kong since she married her chinese husband and followed him home to

Hong Kong. She was still struggling to pick up a chinese phrase here

and there. Luckily the girl who answered the phone at the hospital

could understand English well enough.

She hadn't had much experience dealing with such emergencies, either.

When she put the phone down, she asked old Bag for old Foo's number at

his place of work. He was working as a foreman in a factory about five

miles away. When old Bag gave her the number she dialed. It took ages

for anybody to answer the phone. When someone finally did, she was

again put on hold while someone went and call old Foo. The two minutes

seemed to stretch into eternity before finally a male voice grunted a

hello.

"Hello, old Foo?"

"Yeah, who's that?"

"Ingrid."

"Ingrid?" There was a cheerfulness in his voice. "What I do for you?"

"I'm afraid old Bag has just had a small accident."

"What?"

"I said old Bag has just had an accident," she raised her voice

slightly.

"Oh, is it serious?"

"She fell while changing the light bulb. I think she sprained her ankle

or something."

There was a pause on his side and she continued. "Look, I've called the

hospital. The ambulance should be here any minute now. Why don't you

meet us there. Don't worry, I think it's not as serious as it looks."

"Okay." And he hung up.

She put down the phone and went to look for a blanket to cover old

Bag’s shivering body. It was warm outside but she seemed to be

trembling. Her face had grown a little pale and little beads of sweat

littered her forehead.

"Thanks," she mumbled in chinese when Ingrid had covered her with the

blanket.

Less than half an hour after they arrived at the hospital, old Foo

arrived. He looked a little out of breath when he walked in. He came up

to where Ingrid was sitting.

"How wife?" he asked.

"I don't know. She's been inside there for quite a while now."

When a nurse came out of the emergency, they got up and approached her.

The nurse told them old Bag had fractured her leg. She would be kept

for observation for a few days. When she was wheeled out of the

emergency room, her left left was in plaster up to her thigh.

She smiled at old Foo when he asked how she was. "Okay."

"That's good. wife should have waited for me to come back and change

bulb," he reprimanded her, though not too forcefully.

"Well, it okay. Not very difficult," she said as she was wheeled

towards a ward.

The nurse explained that she'd have to stay in hospital for a few days

for observation. The problem wasn't with the fracture itself, but she

was all shook up after the accident and they want to be sure everything

was all right with her, the nurse explained to them. She was put in a

common ward together with dozens of other women, who all seemed to have

fractured one part of their anatomy or other. Quite a number of them

had both legs in plaster.

About fifteen minutes later, Ingrid was glad to be away from the smell

of antiseptic again. old Foo had offered to drop her off at home but

she declined. She said she had some errands to run anyway and he still

had to get back to work. She promised to look in on him later at home.

That seemed to perk up old Foo's ears.

She changed her mind about the errands and was back at home in less

than hour. She set about preparing a chinese dinner to the best of her

ability. But old Food was late coming home. So she took dinner alone.

Her husband, young Foo (his father called him young Fool since his

marriage to the Swedish girl a year ago) was away on company business

in Singapore.

Old Foo must have grabbed a dinner somewhere or stop off for a drink

with the boys, she thought. She hadn't really got on along all that

well with old Foo. Not after he had made a pass at her just after she

and young Foo came to live in Hong Kong. She and young Foo had decided

to have a party at their house, something he picked up while studying

in Europe. It was New Year's eve. They had invited quite a number of

their neighbours and some of young Foo's friends from work.

The tv had been on as the countdown to New Year began and when the

clock struck 12, everyone had gathered in the centre of the room

singing Auld Lang Syne. After that the men shook hands while the ladies

kissed each other on the cheek. Then the men kissed the ladies cheeks.

When it was old Foo's turn to kiss her cheek, he let his mouth linger

for quite a while longer than usual while his hand grabbed her ass.

She had dismissed that at first. Just part of the New Year spirit. The

drink was to blame, she told herself. He had tried to cop a feel every

now and then but soon she got wise to it and somehow managed to get out

of his way. He had not tried it for quite a while now. Must have given

up on me, she told herself.



She slipped out of her clothes and changed into her dressing gown to

watch the telly. It must have been close to 10 when he returned. She

could hear him walking on the stairway. Then she heard the door open.

He came in and was leaning against the closed door. His eyes were half

closed and had the disposition of someone who had had more than a few

drinks over the driving limit.

"Hello..." he mumbled.

"Have you had dinner, old Foo?" she asked, trying to sound friendly but

casual. She didn't want to seem too friendly.

"Yah...I have," he said.

"Well, goodnight then," she said.

"Goodnight."

He walked to the sofa before turning around and asking her to get him a

drink of water.

"Okay," she said, beginning to feel just a little uncomfortable in his

presence. She felt naked standing there in front of him in her

nightgown, with one of young Foo's fanciful lingerie underneath. He

dragged himself to the sofa in front of the telly and she hurried to

the kitchen to get him a glass of water. She wished he would leave and

took her time getting the water. When she walked out, he was lying on

the sofa fast asleep. She shook his shoulder to wake him up. After a

while he opened his eyes.

"Goodnight," he mumbled and turned on his side and went back to sleep,

sighing contentedly.

Oh dear, she thought to herself. How the hell am I going to get him

into his bedroom in that condition. He was almost as tall as her and

must weigh close to two hundred pounds. Well, guessed I'll just let him

sleep there. Should be save enough with him in his state.

She switched off the telly and went to her room. She returned a few

minutes later with a blanket. She covered him and stood looking at old

Foo's face for a while before switching off the light and went to her

bedroom. She pulled the blanket closely around her. Her mind began

drifting. She thought of young Foo. How she wished he was around,

especially on a night like this. She began to crave his company.

Sometimes that's what she missed most when he was away. The warmth of

another body next to her. She quickly dismissed the thought from her

mind and let herself drift slowly to sleep.

In the living room, old Foo stirred. He opened his eyes wide, trying to

adjust his vision to the darkness. His lips broke into a smile. Fooled

you, didn't I? But he drifted off to sleep again. About two hours

later, old Foo woke up with a start. The mind works in mysterious ways,

especially when one has formulated certain plans. It was as though he

didn't want to be late for an appointment. He had somehow managed to

set his mind to waking him up at a specific time. And to old Foo, it

was now time for action. For sometime he just lay there, letting the

cobwebs clear. The seconds seemed to stretch into minutes and the

minutes into hours. That was how it felt to old Foo, lying their on the

sofa in the living room. Soon his mind cleared. He was a little tipsy

earlier on. But he had had time to get over the effects of the drink.

He was as wide awake as he'd ever be.

The clock on the telly showed that the time was almost midnight. Its

luminous hands shone with a green hue in the darkened room. He got up

to a sitting position, throwing the blanket off his body and looked

towards Ingrid's room. The light was shining under her door. Maybe she

was still awake, he thought. For a moment he had second thoughts about

what he intended to do. But he forced the thought out of his mind. The

unwelcome thought. He wasn't about to get cold feet, not after such an

opportunity offered itself to him. It might never come his way again.

So he meant to make full use of it. He has had the hots for his

daughter-in-law ever since the newly-weds moved in with him. He walked

towards Ingrid's room. For a moment he stood in front of the door,

collecting his thoughts. With trembling hands he twisted the door

handle. It turned and the door opened noiselessly. Good, she didn't

lock the door. As though she was waiting for him to come in, he

thought. The bedside lamp was on and it took him a few moments to let

his eyes adjust to the light.

He stepped inside and closed the door. He looked towards the bed. In

the dim light of the bedside lamp, he could just see her upper body,

which was not covered by the blanket. Her face was turned away from the

light, so he couldn't tell if her eyes were open. Her chest, loosely

covered by her nightgown rose and fell gently. Her breathing was calm,

so she must be sound asleep, he thought. Slowly he walked towards the

bed. At the side of the bed, he bent down and checked her face. Her

lips were slightly parted. He lowered his head until their faces were

just inches apart.

He placed a hand on the mattress beside her. His other hand gripped the

bedrest to steady himself. Then gently he touched his lips to hers but

just for a moment. When he drew away, she dreamily licked her own lips.

She must be having a pleasant dream. He kissed the lips again. They

felt warm against his own lips. She sighed gently and opened her mouth.

But her eyes remained closed.

He enjoyed her pouted lips a moment longer before straightening and

quickly removing his shirt and pants before freeing his erection from

the constraints of his shorts. The semi-erect penis shook gently in the

night air. The pieces of clothing lay in a heap on the floor at his

feet. He sat down beside her on the bed and gently lifted the flap of

her nightgown off her right chest. It was just as he had imagined. Her

firm succulent breast with its sharp pointed nipple. It felt nice to

his touch. He squeezed the breast gently before leaving it a moment to

expose her left breast. Then he brought his face close to the two

exposed mounds of flesh. He could smell the fragrance of her perfume as

he inhaled the perfumed valley between her breasts. He ran his cheeks

against the the two bulbous flesh before bringing his lips to her left

nipple. His tongue tweaked it gently. The nipple crinkled and grew taut

as he took it inside his mouth. Her lips let out a soft moan. He

released the nipple and looked up at her face which was now turned

towards the light.

The face had lost the calm look it had on earlier and her breathing

lost its gentle rhythm. But her eyes remained tightly shut. This time

he took her right nipple between his lips, his tongue teasing it and

feeling it harden. The soft moans escaping her lips were now more

regular. old Foo was past caring. He wasn't as gentle about his

movements anymore. He didn't care if his action would awaken her from

her pleasantly disturbing sleep. old Foo pulled the blanket off

Ingrid's body. Her nightgown slipped away together with the blanket.

She no longer had her panties on and his eyes feasted on the the mound

between her slightly open thighs. To old Foo, her cunt was the most

beautiful he had ever seen. It was after all the first European cunt he

had ever seen in his 54 years. Maybe he just thought so because of the

lewd thoughts going through his mind. The mound was covered by a thin

mat of blonde hair, just like her head. She must have shaved herself

often, he thought. But what caught his attention were the lips of her

cunt. They look pink, fat and tender. That’s quite a change from old

Bag’s. His face made its brief journey down to the lower part of her

body, planting soft kisses along the way. Then he touched the lips of

her sex. It was moist. He traced the opening with his middle finger.

Her juices were making her cunt nice and wet for him, although she

still hadn't realised it just yet. Then placing both thumbs on her sex

he drew her vagina lips open and her harden clitoris peaked out

sheepishly at him. He brought his face down, inhaling her, before his

mouth greeted her sex. He found her clitoris and he his tongue twirled

the distended nodule, bringing soft moans from her lips.

Then old Foo buried his face in her sex and let his tongue take over

the work his fingers were doing earlier, bringing more soft moans from

her lips. Her thighs opened slightly when he pushed his tongue inside

her and her bum gyrated gently on the mattress. She seemed to be

murmuring something in her sleep. At times her lower body moved as

though to escape the pleasure his tongue was bringing to her sex. But

he wouldn't let up, pushing his tongue inside her, then moving his

tongue faster in and out of her parted cunt.

He had to have her now before he wasted his load, he thought. When he

lifted his head off her pussy, she groaned. In her sleep, she seemed to

be protesting the interruption in the pleasure she was feeling down

there. Her buttocks lifted off the bed slightly as though to follow the

object that was making her loins tingle with sweet agony just moments

before. He didn't want to disappoint her. Worse still, he didn't want

to disappoint himself. He crawled on top of her.

His erection was throbbing wildly, the foreskin moving back to expose

the bulbous knob of his penis. His cock wasn’t long, only six inches.

But it was thick. It had satisfied many women before Ingrid. There’s no

reason why it wouldn’t do so again. His arms stretched out in front of

him on each side of her body, holding his upper torso off hers. Their

body hardly touched. Only his knees made contact with the insides of

her lower thighs, keeping her legs open to prevent her from closing

them prematurely. Without using his hands he guided the head of his

erection until it was resting on the mouth of her sex. He pushed

forward gently, the gentle pressure forcing the lips of her vagina to

open slightly to accommodate the rounded knob. Then ever so gently he

began rotating his hips, pushing forward and into her. The wet,

slippery walls of her cunt allowed the knob of his penis to enter her

easily. He withdrew slightly and pushed his throbbing cock into her

again, each entry deeper than the previous one until he was buried to

the fullest inside her. He closed his eyes, loving the feel of her

pussy walls enveloping his stiff rod. As he rode the sleeping figure on

the bed, he could feel Ingrid's well-trained cunt milking his cock. He

increased his speed slightly, but just so. The last thing he wanted was

to shoot his load before he had a chance to fully enjoy the luscious

body of his son's wife. Her buttocks slowly moved to the rhythm of his

thrusts, pushing upwards to complement his penetration. Groaning

loudly, she suddenly opened her eyes to stare up at an unfamiliar face

above hers. Unfamiliar, that is in that position. He didn't stop what

he was doing although he realised she was now awake. For a while her

body continued moving to the rhythm he was setting. Then as the cobwebs

cleared it began to dawn upon her what he was doing. Her body went

rigid.

Her mouth opened in surprise but for a while no sound came out as her

eyes opened wide with a mixture of shock and anger. All thought of

sleep left her.

"What the hell..."

"Sh...Sh..." he said, imploring her to be quiet as he increased the

speed of his thrusts into her.

She must look a sight, she thought. Her legs splayed wide open and her

father-in-law giving it to her for all he's worth. In spite of her

initial flash of anger, she couldn't deny the forbidden pleasure he

arousing inside her. By that time he had planted his full weight on her

body, grounding his pelvis against her mound. Her anger, however,

didn't stop her from enjoying what he was doing. But she sure as hell

wasn't going to let him know she was enjoying it just as much as he

was. He seemed to realise she was trying to hide the pleasure his cock

was giving her. And he was just as determined to win the battle. So he

plunged deeper and deeper into her. She bit her lips trying to suppress

her groan and turned away from the light to hide her face from him. But

he seemed to know what was going through her mind. He wanted her

surrender completely. Suddenly he withdrew completely from her, keeping

his penis poised at the opening. After a few moments she turned around

to face him, wondering what he was up to when without warning he

plunged the stiff rod into her again hard.

"Ah.....oh God....!" she cried out as his hard rod seemed to reach the

depth of her womanhood. And she couldn't hide her feelings anymore and

she just let herself go. Her soft moans were beginning to get to old

Foo who began to show some signs of tiring, as he took himself slowly,

but surely to his climax.

He was also bringing her closer to her height of pleasure. Her arms

spread out like a body crucified as her fingers dug into the rumpled

bedsheets, her knuckles turning white from the pressure.

"Oh, fuck me. Harder...Harder," she grasped. Her hands suddenly leaving

the sheets to crush his body to hers, her nails digging into the flesh

of his back as she felt the first spasm of her orgasm. That was what he

was waiting for. Before she was through she felt him tense and this was

followed shortly by a sudden warmness shooting up her channel. He

slumped against her body.

He lifted his head and stared down at her face. He had a satisfied

smirk on his face. He started laughing softly, knowing that no matter

what she was going to say, he was certain she enjoyed the fucking he

just gave her. Her eyes flashed at his in anger but she knew she was

powerless. She knew she'd be better off keeping her mouth shut, rather

than open her mouth and create a scandal. She could do without such

media attention as surely the tabloids would have her picture on the

front page. No thank you. She can do without that.

In all probability, people were not going to believe her words, anyway.

They’ll probably call her a whore. They’ll probably say she was asking

for it and got what she deserved. Of that she was certain. All her

neighbours would know. All of young Foo's friends and colleagues would

know. Who was she after all? Of course there's also the fact that she

had enjoyed the fuck. If anything, Ingrid liked to be honest with

herself at least. Admitting to herself that she had enjoyed it sorts of

made the burden a little easier to bear.

Ingrid got up and went to the bathroom. She stood naked in front of the

bathroom mirror. There were no visible changes. There were so evidence

on her body to show that she was forced into having sex with old Foo.

There wasn't even a single mark on her body that pointed to the fact

that she had just been raped. She could bet her ass on the fact that

none of her neighbours would say they heard her screaming for help in

the middle of the night. And she never did anyway. Just a lot of

moaning and groaning towards the end. There were also no evidence to

show that she had just been fucked either. If she were to walk out of

her house fully-clothed right then, no one would have been the wiser

about what had just happened.

Then her mind drifted to young Foo. Well, what of him? Serves him right

for being away most of the time. What's a wife to do when she's always

left alone? The lonely nights. Where are you, young Foo? Shacked up

with a nice piece of ass, I'd bet. She dismissed the thought of her

husband from her mind. After washing herself, she walked out of the

bathroom and switched off the light. Then she walked towards the bed

where old Foo was. He hadn't put on his clothes.

"Hadn't you better put your clothes on and go back to your room?"

"What hurry?"

"Well, it's rather late." She looked at the alarm clock on the bedside

table. It was a quarter to two in the morning.

"Who care?" he shrugged his shoulders.

"I do."

"Well, fuck."

"That's easy for you to say."

“Fuck again?” he said, more a statement than a question as he threw the

blanket off his body. It was a repetition of the numerous men she had

gone to bed with. They always seemed to want seconds almost immediately

after the first time they went to bed with her. She gasped. His penis

was in a semi-erect state.

She could feel the blood rushing to her face, as she stared at his

nakedness wide-eyed. He caught hold of her hand and pulled her on to

the bed. For a moment, a very brief moment, she hesitated as she felt

herself falling into his arms. He turned her around so that her back

was lying against his chest and her head was resting in the crook of

left arm. She looked up at him. Speechless. She wet her dry lips with

her tongue. Teasing him and daring him to make his next move. He didn't

need further invitation as he bend down and crushed his mouth against

hers. His tongue probed her mouth open and did battle with hers. His

reached out and grabbed a tit each hand. Both thumbs and forefinger

caught her nipples. They hardened as she purred at the attention he was

paying to her breasts.

When their mouths parted, he asked her, "You like fuck with old Foo?"

She burst out laughing. She suddenly discovered that he wasn't all that

revolting as the familiar stirrings returned to her loins. She crinkled

her nose at him. All the irritation she had felt earlier were

momentarily gone. He lowered his head to reacquaint his lips with hers

again. This time she was kissing him back just as passionately. He knew

he hadn't been wrong. This was one hot-blooded woman waiting for the

right man to come along and turn on her switch. And that man wasn’t his

son, young Fool. That prick of a man he called son couldn’t hope to

satisfy a woman such as Ingrid.

"Stand up," he commanded, helping her to her feet. She realised what he

wanted to do and groaned inwardly in anticipation. Planting her feet on

either side of his body, she bend down offering him a splendid back

view of the lower part of her body.

He gripped her rounded bum and brought it to within inches of his face.

He loved the view of her exposed cunt, the lips puffy and moist. He

could smell her need and his tongue snaked out to taste the morsel of

flesh before clamping his lips to the mouth of her sex.

"Oh...God..." she groaned, grounding her sex into his face.

"Like it...?" he asked as his mouth moved away from her cunt

momentarily.

"Oh..." her buttocks shuddered, her cunt growing wetter and begging for

attention.

"Well, what you old Foo do now?" he teased.

She answered by pushing her cunt closer to his face. But he avoided

touching her.

"Tell old Foo, tell what you want..." he said.

"Oh...please..."

"Plis what?"

"Please stop teasing me..."

"Then say...say what you want old Foo do..." he encouraged her.

"I...I...want you to make me come..."

"Mmm...?"

"Yes and I want you to lick my clit. I want you to eat my cunt. Then I

want you to take your hard cock and fuck me and fuck me, again and

again and again..." she said, hardly believing what she has just begged

him to do.

He was ready to accommodate her request. His mouth went back to her sex

once again and his tongue snaked out in search of her clitoris. Finding

it, he tweaked the love button, bringing a moan of delight from her. He

let himself slide further down on the bed until his head was resting on

the pillow. Her bum followed him, not wanting to lose the delightful

contact. He never stopped using his tongue. This was sweet revenge for

all those times she had taunted him. Walking around in her cutoff old

Bags or miniskirts. Exposing her crotch whenever she walked up the

steps when he was walking directly behind her. Making him wild with

desire all those times. She was a cockteaser, all right. Well, she has

found her match in old Foo, hadn't she? And boy is he going to make her

pay for all those pent-up desires, the frustration of not being able to

have her all those times. The desires he was still having as bad as

ever. Never thought I'd be doing this to you, eh? In that position,

Ingrid found herself staring at his erection every time she opened her

eyes. She couldn't resist taking it in her hand, stroking the hard

cock, feeling it throb in her hand. Now it was his turn to moan aloud

as he felt her warm, moist tongue suddenly stroking the underside of

his cock. When she took the erection inside her mouth, he moaned again

and buried his tongue as far as he could into her sopping cunt. All of

a sudden she lifted herself off him and turned around. Squatting down,

she brought her sex to the erect penis. Her hand guided its head

between her vulva.

"Now, fuck me. Fuck me hard," she commanded, her cunt lips making

gentle, undulating motions on his cock head.

He did as he was told, lifting his ass off the bed, he stabbed into her

inviting cunt, burying his hardness with renewed vigour into the depths

of her womanhood. He gripped her ass cheeks firmly in his hands, as he

slammed into her as hard as he could again and again.

"Yes, like that. Harder! Fuck me, fuck me!" she cried as she felt

herself reaching her climax.

But he was far from over. He pushed her off him. Getting her on all

fours, he aimed his proud lance at the gaping, upturned hole and again

buried himself inside her to the hilt. He increased the pace as he felt

himself nearing his own climax.

"Move ass...that right...like that..." he shouted as she wriggled her

ass.

As he slammed into her one final time, he felt a sudden release. That

triggered her orgasm again, her groans muffled by the pillow as they

both collapsed in exhaustion on the bed, sweat drenching their bodies.

She was gasping for breath, her eyes tightly shut. He let his slowly

deflating cock slip out of her and dropped down at her side.

The next morning when she woke up her body was aching all over after

the night's workout with old Foo. And she must admit it was one hell of

a night. Not a night she was likely to forget in quite a while. Ingrid

got up and went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. old Foo walked in

and helped himself to some coffee.

"I trust you daughter-in-law had good night sleep," he said.

She laughed and nodded.

"Old Foo go hospital to see old Bag before go work. Any message?"

"No. No messages. I'll probably drop in and see her in the afternoon."

"Okay, I tell old Bag that. "

Old Foo walked up to Ingrid and gave her a kiss. She responded to his

kiss and he grabbed a handful of ass before walking off. She heard the

front door close and knew he had left. She was sure she would see him

again. And again. There was no stopping it now that it had started, she

thought. That afternoon she went to see old Bag at the hospital. old

Bag was in an unusually jovial mood. Her leg in a cast which had now

become slightly discoloured by graffiti of various colours. She must

have had a lot of visitors since yesterday, thought Ingrid.

"Old Foo's friends and other patients," she told Ingrid.



Ingrid added her own get well message at a small space on the side that

was still available. But somehow she felt her own act was rather

pretentious. How do you react to a woman whose husband you had just

gone to bed with and would likely to go to bed with again. old Bag

thanked her for looking after old Foo while she was temporarily

indisposed. Ingrid was quite surprised by the statement.

"Old Foo say you help him sleep last night."

"Oh?"

"Told him not to drink too much next time. He still like a child, that

Old Foo."

That's what you think, thought Ingrid. As far as she was concerned he

was a conniving bastard. Likable enough in bed though. She couldn't

deny that she had enjoyed his attention. But still a cheat. Pretending

he was so pissed out she had to put him to bed. And the next thing

finding him on top of her in the middle of the night. He was drunk, all

right. But not half as drunk as she thought he was. And Ingrid felt

kind of ridiculous being thanked for what she did last night with old

Foo. The old lady would probably have a stroke if she knew the truth.

Ingrid didn't stay long. After promising to drop by again if she was

free the next day, she left. Glad to be away from the hospital. She

decided to go for a walk before going home. She also wanted to do her

marketing.

Old Foo must have liked the way he was taken care of the previous

night. Right on the dot at eight that evening he was already planted in

front of the telly in the living room. He seemed to engrossed in a game

show, a can of beer in hand. At least, he showed that he has other

interests in life, thought Ingrid. He hadn't made any attempt to throw

her on the floor and rip her clothes off yet. In fact when he first

arrived he showed himself to be quite civil. He even shaved, had a bath

and put on a fresh pair of pants and shirt. He even brought her a bunch

of roses, something young Foo hadn't done in quite a while. She

couldn't help liking him a little better. She was kind of flattered by

the attention he was giving her. No man had ever done that for her

since she got married. That used to be all right. After all young Foo

was doing it. But since the attention from young Foo was getting quite

rare where flowers and candy were concerned, she realised she had

missed it. And tonight the bunch of roses was as romantic a gesture as

she had ever gotten from any man.

Ingrid had cooked dinner for old Foo as well. It was one of the rare

occassions she cooked rice for dinner. She also had a pot of chicken

curry, which old Foo seemed to consume with gusto. At least old Foo

does like her cooking. Not just her pussy, which he had gone through

such great pains to get, she thought. She had stopped at the butcher's

shop on the way back from the hospital in the afternoon. She also

picked up some steaks from the butcher shop but changed her mind about

cooking them that night. old Foo didn't seemed to mind as he went for

second helpings of her rice and chicken curry. Quite a change from old

Bag's bland cooking, surely. Ingrid beamed with pleasure watching him

enjoying the food that she had gone to great pains to cook. Kind of

reminded her of young Foo when they were first married. He used to like

her cooking too, among other things.

She walked into her bedroom to change. A little later she reappeared.

Tonight she was going to give the old man a treat. Ingrid had undressed

and returned in a white, lacy underwear that would have rattled a

celibate to the very foundation of his religious beliefs. And all the

more so when you're a hot-blooded man like old Foo. His hand was

visibly trembling when he brought the beer to his lips and drained its

content. She had switched off the lights when she came out of her

bedroom. The light in the room only came from the telly. He didn't turn

around when she approached the couch he was sitting on. Then she turned

on the table lamp before walking slowly in her bare feet until she was

standing between him and the telly. The game show was over ages ago. A

sitcom was on, but he wasn't about to complain about the distraction.

"Like it?" she asked, standing with one hand on her hip and the other

bent upwards touching her shoulder. A pose normally assumed by a model

parading a new line of summer wear.

"Like it?" he answered, hardly believing his eyes. "Love it..." Could

this be the same woman he seduced last night? She had taken on a new

appearance and attitude. No longer the timid housewife and daughter-in-

law he was used to. This was a woman, hot-blooded desirable piece of

flesh. Want her? He had never wanted any woman in his life as he wanted

her now.

Ingrid saw the unmistakable look of lust in his eyes. It was the same

look young Foo had in eyes when she first wore the nightgown in front

of him. The gown was held up by a thin strap of cloth. The laces on the

front covered part of her breasts, hiding her nipples. The back was cut

low down on her back. If she had worn it to the beach, it would have

passed as a swimsuit. It ended at the bottom of her crotch, held

together by the kind of buttons that come easily apart at the slightest

pull. Despite the dim light, her pubic hair was visible through the

flimsy material. She gave him one of those turn-on smiles, as if he

needed to be turned on further.

"You're just saying that..." she said, teasing him.

"You beautiful..." he answered, breathing heavily.

"Show me. Show me how much you like me," she said as she walked closer

to him. The light from the telly gave a sort of glow to the inverted-V

formed by the junction of her parted legs.

He was getting out of his clothes in record time. But his eyes never

left her, watching her pushed the strap of the nightgown off one

shoulder and slid it down her arm, exposing one of her breasts. Then

she took the exposed nipple in her fingers, teasing it until it

hardened. After giving similar treatment to her other nipple, she

exposed both her breasts to his lecherous eyes. So you dirty old man,

two can play the game, as you can see, she told herself. Her body

swayed as she continued teasing him, still staying out of his reach.

Some character on the sitcom was getting himself into an awkward

situation which drew laughter from the audience. On the couch old Foo

was stroking his erection, watching Ingrid putting on as fabulous a

striptease show as he had ever seen. A private show only for old Foo.

The fact that he would soon be fucking the striper in just a little

while heightened the pleasure he was giving himself. Her hand reached

down and pulled crotch of the underwear apart. She pulled up the flap

in front and exposed her crotch to him. Her finger teased the lips of

her sex apart, making them wet with her own desire. old Foo was beside

himself on the couch. Several times he had to slow down his own

strokes, afraid he would shoot his load in his own hands. When he

couldn't stand it any longer, he got up and caught her arm, pulling her

towards him. Now she was standing just inches from him. She was still

stroking herself. Her index finger and forefinger parting the moist

lips to expose her excited clitoris. It was an invitation for him to

bury his face in her sex and he needed no prodding on her part to get

into the thick of action. His head was spinning as he grabbed her and

buried his tongue inside her. She groaned as she felt his mouth making

its welcomed intrusion of her sex. But it lasted only a moment. His

face left her pussy and he was pulling her on top of him. He guided

himself inside her with a haste he had not felt in a very long time.

She didn't need him to tell her what to do as she slid up and down on

his erection. He was fucking her with wild abandon. Both were oblivious

to everything else. Behind her, the sitcom was over. But for them, the

night was far from over. Occasionally he would pause, letting his erect

penis rest deep inside Ingrid's cunt. Ingrid constricted her cunt

muscles to massage his the cock, which was thrilling her with such

forbidden pleasure. She had known many men in her life, but none of her

encounters were like this. Perhaps it was the thought of being fucked

by someone other than her husband. Her first man after she had married

Young Foo. After remaining faithful to young Foo this past one year.

And to fuck her father-in-law at that.

She could taste her own sexual juices on his lips as her tongue slid

into his mouth and she ground her sex harder against his pelvis. His

pubic hairs teasing her clitoris increased her pleasure as he continued

pumping into her relentlessly. Finally they collapsed on the floor with

exhaustion.

When they both recovered, old Foo took her into her bedroom and made

love to her again. He was unbelievable. That he was able to have an

erection again soon after was a testament to his prowess and a

compliment to her own ability to arouse such feelings in him. It was as

though he was making up for lost time. Either that or he was on some

sort of ginseng, she thought. She had heard about those, the

aphrodisiac used by emperors of old in the east to satisfy their hordes

of concubines.



Old Foo hardly allowed her to sleep, doing things to her body with his

hands and mouth when his cock needed the rest.

The next day proved to be less easy where sex between them was

concerned. old Foo had taken the day off. He had gone to the hospital

early to pick up old Bag who was allowed to return home. So things were

back to normal. Sort of. Ingrid helped with old Bag's housework. Not

that there was that much to do. Only the vacuuming and bring her the

meals for which old Bag was eternally grateful. It was old Bag’s duty

to cook her husband’s meals when she was well.

But when she was in the kitchen cooking old Bag's lunch earlier, old

Foo had come into the kitchen under the pretext of helping her. old Foo

must like living his life dangerously, she thought. old Bag was in the

bedroom. But they had left the door open, so she could hear their

conversation in the kitchen and join in the exchange if she wanted to.

But most of the time she just remained quiet, except the few times she

would thank Ingrid for all her help. If only she knew the truth,

thought Ingrid. She couldn't help feeling guilty, but the guilt

heightened her forbidden pleasure.

"So Ingrid, when young Foo coming home?" old Foo asked. His hand had

found its way beneath her skirt, stroking her smooth thighs.

"Probably tomorrow or the day after," she answered, trying not to

laugh. He was tickling her, letting his finger trace the outline of her

panties. And in a whispered voice to him, "Old Foo, you stop that."

"What?" he replied softly. Then raising his voice, he said, "Sure nice

having young Foo home again."

"Yeah."

"Well, don't you tire him out." His fingers found their way under the

hem of her panties and encountered a moist opening.

Again in a hushed tone, "Look, if you keep doing that I'm never going

to get lunch ready."

"I hope I no get in your way in kitchen," he said, pushing a finger

into her warm, moist channel.

"No, that's quite all right, old Foo," she answered. "Oh...Damn you,"

she whispered followed by a soft ooh as his other his middle finger

tweaked her clitoris.

"Old Foo, stop getting in way of Ingrid. And bring me water." old Bag

called from the bedroom.

"Yah," he answered, giving Ingrid a few more strokes for good measure

before removing his hand from beneath her skirt. He licked her juices

from his fingers before wiping his hand on the seat of his pants. She

gave him a dirty look and he broke into a lascivious grin before

getting his wife a glass of water. Ingrid was both glad and

disappointed at the interruption to their foreplay in the kitchen. The

presence of his mother-in-law in the other room added to the

excitement.

"I come back," he whispered as he carried the glass of water towards

the bedroom.

"Don't you dare," she whispered.

It didn't continue. Before he returned, she had joined him in the

bedroom with old Bag's lunch.

"Well, hoped you like it," she said to old Bag.

"I will. Just leave on table. I eat later."

"Okay," Ingrid said.

"Nice girl," old Bag said to her husband after Ingrid walked out.

“Last time you no like,” he said in Chinese.

“Last time she not helpful. Useless around house.”

“But she learn now?”

“Yah, she learn now,” said old Bag.

"Now, husband say eat,” he brought the food to her. He helped her up

into a sitting position by propping an extra pillow behind her back.

Then he took the food tray and placed it in her lap.

After his wife had finished her lunch and taken her medication, he had

carried the tray back to the kitchen. Then he had his own lunch which

Ingrid had left on the dining table. After he finished, he returned to

the bedroom. old Bag was asleep, so he decided to go over to Ingrid’s

room. He knocked gently.

When Ingrid opened the door, he said, "Just came to thank Ingrid..."

"Really?" she said as he stepped inside.

He took her in his arms and kissed her passionately on the mouth. "I

want fuck you," he said as they drew apart. Taking her hand, he led her

into the bedroom. They didn't even bothered to close the bedroom door.

The fact that his wife could hear them if she wakes up heightened their

excitement even more. She slipped out of her panties and pulled up her

skirt while he just unzipped his pants and freed his erection.

She leaned against the doorway and he just pressed up against her. He

slipped in easily. There wasn't any foreplay. Neither of them needed

it. Her pussy was still moist from the fingering he gave her when she

was preparing lunch.

When young Foo returned two days later, things really returned to

normal. She was back being an ordinary housewife. Ingrid the mistress

took a vacation. Still she must admit, it wasn't the same anymore. The

way she felt towards young Foo, especially. She still love him of

course. But her affection now was divided between the two men. And she

knew, even if she didn't want it to happen anymore, she would continue

to fuck old Foo whenever young Foo was away. She had tasted the

sweetness of the forbidden fruit and it wasn't easy to stop anymore.

She tried to appear as dutiful a wife to young Foo as possible. Cooking

his meals. Washing his clothes. And even in the bedroom. They had sex a

few times during his two weeks at home. She enjoyed it just as she had

always enjoyed sex with him. But when he left again on the third week,

she felt a sense of relief. She no longer had to pretend.

Old Foo had behaved when his son was around. But after young Foo goes

outstation again, he continued his visits to Ingrid’s room once again.

In fact, now he hardly stopped off at the pub first on his way back. He

was impatient to get home. And Ingrid was always there, the dutiful

daughter-in-law, waiting and ever willing. Sometimes, if he couldn't

make it, he'd arrive after midnight when old Bag was already asleep. No

problem with old Bag in that department. After returning from the

hospital, she had started going on sleeping pills. Too hard and

uncomfortable to sleep without the help of the pills, she had

complained. And she would normally be out for a solid six hours. That

just suited him fine. He didn't want to have to explain why he was not

in their bed after midnight anyway.

The fact that his wife had never suspected he was having a wild fling

with their daughter-in-law was a source of wonder to him. But the

credit here went to both him and Ingrid. They had been quite discreet

about their relationship. He didn't even brag about it to the boys at

work, not ever wanting the word to come back to his wife. Moreover they

were never seen in public together. All their activities had been

confined to the apartment whenever young Foo was away.

When his wife was fully recovered, it got a little harder for them to

meet. Except the times she takes a sleeping pill and was knocked out

early. It wasn't love, he kept telling himself. But he definitely was

attracted to Ingrid as any man in his right frame of mind would be. But

it wasn't love. Love was what he used to feel for his wife. What he was

probably still feeling. The affection of a marriage which was three

decades old. The affection which came with being together all that

time. But he realised that what he was having with Ingrid was different

from what he occasionally had with the women he had gone to bed with.

Those were merely lust and nothing else. With Ingrid it was slightly

different. But he couldn't call it love. He refused to call it

anything. Just a relationship based on sex. But not just lust.

Certainly not just plain, old fucking, he told himself constantly.

Old Foo would also like to take the credit for introducing his 25-year-

old daughter-in-law to kinky side of sex. Sometimes she marveled at the

fact that she was able to go along with it. Not that she was prudish

about sex, of course. Still she was surprised that she was able to do

what she did with old Foo, both in bed and out of it. There was one

time they went to the movies together. This was after old Bag had fully

recovered from the fall. She told old Bag she was going shopping. old

Bag was only too glad to see her go out. She deserved to go shopping

after being cooped up in the house looking after her mother-in-law. old

Foo wasn't back yet, of course.

"Probably go drinking," she remarked to Ingrid. It was only a quarter

to seven.

In fact old Foo had called her from work and asked her to meet him for

a drink. The pub was located on the other side of town, so she had to

take a bus there. Neither of them wanted to risk being seen by mutual

acquaintances. They might just put two and two together. old Foo's

friends would probably just laugh it off after reminding themselves to

congratulate him later for landing himself with a delectable piece of

ass. But her friends, more importantly, young Foo's friends might just

blabber about it to the wrong people and sooner or later young Foo

would get to know about it. Despite everything, she want to save young

Foo that embarrassment with his friends.

After getting off the bus, it took Ingrid quite a while to locate the

pub. If not for the fact that old Foo spotted her first she would have

missed the place. The sign above the entrance had a few letters

missing. Fortunately, old Foo had taken a table by the glass window.

When he saw her walking past, he just knocked on the glass to get her

attention. She flashed him a smile and walked in. A few men turned

around to appraise her. She obviously met with their approval, walking

by in a miniskirt which almost showed her crotch. They don’t get that

many White women in the pub, so she certainly drew some attention to

herself.

A few of course couldn't understand what a lovely woman like her was

doing with somebody like old Foo. The same few couldn't help feeling

envious. Nothing better than to have her on their arms. They couldn't

help seeing in her eyes the promise of a night of endless pleasure. And

in that area they weren't all that far off target. old Foo had gotten

up so that she could take the seat by the window. His eyes dropped to

her legs as slipped into the seat. She was wearing black stockings

which showed off her lovely legs to the fullest. The stockings did to

her legs what the miniskirt was doing to her ass. As she sat down her

legs opened, flashing him her pink panties.

"Stop looking up my legs," she said, crossing her legs but couldn't

help smiling at his reaction.

"You got nice legs," he answered making a face. She couldn't help but

giggled softly, taking pride in his compliment.

"Well, what you have?" old Foo asked when the waitress walked over to

their table.

"Vodka lime," she answered. It had been her favourite drink.

"One more beer and vodka lime," old Foo told the waitress.

She walked away to return soon after with their drinks. By that time

Ingrid and old Foo were deep in conversation.

"Yum seng!" he said.

"Cheers!" she said, taking a sip of her drink.

Meanwhile under the table he put a hand in her lap. For a moment it

startled her and she looked around to see if any of the drinkers were

looking their way. But after the initial look they gave her when she

walked in, they were polite enough to go back to their drinks and

conversations. Sometimes the conversations were punctuated by bursts of

laughter.

So Ingrid felt quite safe in the pub. old Foo's hand began to wander

and pretty soon it found its way underneath her crossed leg. She could

feel the hair on the back of his hand tickling her leg and felt goose

pimples growing on her skin. Then he put his hand on her knee to

uncross her legs. She looked up at him. When their eyes met, there was

the unmistakable look of lust in them. She opened her legs slightly

when she felt his hand on her thighs again. He didn't wait for another

invitation and let his fingers do the walking until they met with the

soft skin of her thighs above her stockings and on to the nylon of her

flimsy panties. Her lips parted slightly and there was a dreamy look in

her eyes as his middle finger rubbed the front of her crotch. When his

fingers found the lips of her pussy, he traced the opening through her

sheer nylon panties, bringing a soft sigh from her mouth. She could

feel herself growing wet.

She drained her drink and in a hoarse whisper said, "Let's get the hell

out of here before I cum."

"Okay," he said, finishing his beer. After he paid the bill, they

walked out together, she hanging on to his arm.

They continued walking because he said the cinema was just a stone's

throw from the pub. She didn't know exactly which cinema he was taking

her to but she had a pretty good idea that it wasn't going to be a

decent movie. True enough when they reached a cinema showing x-rated

movies he stopped. He bought the tickets and soon Ingrid found herself

in a corner seat at the back of the hall. The show had already started

and the action was fast and furious on the screen. She settled

comfortably into her seat and crossed her legs and leaned her body

against old Foo's. The warmth of his body sent a shiver of expectancy

through her. Ingrid could sense an air of expectancy in the crowd. She

could also feel old Foo's hand crawling up her legs. Ingrid gasped. The

actor on the screen has a massive erection. A circumcised prick about

eight inches long in a semi erect state. Ingrid was sure it would look

more impressive in a fully erect state. Ingrid could feel her sex

getting wet. Ingrid doesn't know whether it was the film that was

getting her all excited or old Foo's naughty fingers that are doing it

to her. And she doesn't care one bit. old Foo had pushed aside her

panties and his fingers were making her cunt throb with desire. His

middle finger was moving slowing in and out of her vagina, bringing her

closer to her peak. Ingrid was slowly becoming oblivious to the movie

screen. All her attention was focused on the sweet sensation between

her legs. old Foo had pushed two fat fingers inside her and he was

increasing the tempo. She let out a soft moan as she felt her cunt

getting wetter and she was moments away from her orgasm. Her buttocks

was moving excitedly on the seat. Her soft moans were drowned out by

the moans and groans in the movie.

"I'm cumming," she whispered in old Foo's ear as she pressed her face

into his neck to suppressed a loud groan as she came all over his

fingers. It seemed like forever before Ingrid opened her eyes and

brought her attention to the screen. By that time old Foo had removed

his fingers from her cunt.

"Let's go home. I need a fuck badly," Ingrid whispered.

Old Foo nodded and they got up together. Somehow Ingrid was no longer

interested in the movie. She just couldn't wait to get home, throw off

all her clothes and beg old Foo to fuck her silly. But old Foo had a

better idea.

"We go somewhere..." he suggested after they were outside the cinema.

"Where?"

He took her hand and led her up the street. After they had turned a few

blocks they came to a deserted park. Ingrid was glad for the

suggestion. They picked a secluded bench behind a tree. old Foo pulled

her to him and kissed her mouth. She kissed him back, feeling the

strong itch returning to her groin. old Foo wasn't in the mood for

foreplay. He lifted her skirt and pulled down her panties. His fingers

found her vagina lips. They were wet to his touch.

"I'm ready whenever you are," she said. She quickly unzipped his pants

and pulled out his already erect cock.

He turned her around and told her to bend down for him. She did as she

was told. Then her hands opened herself up for him. He guided himself

inside her easily although he couldn't see what he was doing in the

dark. Then he fucked her, fast and furious. And just for a moment, the

picture of a massive black cock plunging in and out of a wet pink pussy

flashed through Ingrid's mind. After they left the park, Ingrid took

the taxi home alone because they didn't want to be seen getting out of

a taxi together. old Foo walked back to the pub for a drink. Ingrid let

her thought wander. Her face was still glowing and her cunt wet and

pulsing from old Foo's assault in the park. Ingrid went straight to her

room. She apologised to old Bag for being late. old Bag dismissed her

apologies. That somehow made Ingrid feel a little guilty. The woman

wasn't such a bad sort. She just didn't know how to take care of her

husband. Or maybe she has stopped taking care of him sexually,

especially after the accident. But even that thought didn't make her

feel much better.

She went to her room and lay in the long bath. Just as Ingrid was

getting ready for bed, there was a knock on her bedroom door. She had a

pretty good idea who it was. She walked to the door and opened it. old

Foo was standing there with a lascivious look on his face.

"Wanna fuck some more?" he asked.

She laughed and gave him a peck on the cheek.

"Can't a girl have a rest anymore?" she said as she closed the door and

locked it.

"Yes, girl can rest after nice fuck," he replied.

He pulled her to him and kissed her and she felt herself growing warm.

She was no longer starved of attention and sex since old Foo's wife had

an accident. In fact old Foo had been giving her enough attention,

especially when young Foo was away. But she couldn't help getting

excited every time old Foo touched her despite the fact that they had

been making it countless times. He had a certain animal magnetism about

him which she found kind of erotic.

He sucked her soft pink lips, bringing a soft moan from her. Then he

pushed his tongue inside her mouth while his hands caressed the swell

of her buttocks. He kneaded the fleshy mounds as he ground the hardness

of his groin against her soft belly. When he let go of her, she walked

into the bed. He followed her, the swaying of her buttocks sending lewd

messages to his already swollen cock. She slipped out of her clothes

and stood completely naked in front of him. Her nipples had grown taut

and begged his attention. He pulled off his clothes in record time. His

erection jutted out like a flagpole in front of him. She smiled and

licked her lips in anticipation as he walked towards her. The room was

dimly lighted by her bedside lamp. Again he pulled her to him and she

slipped easily into his arms, enjoying his warm embrace. His stiff

prick felt warm against the softness of her belly. Then he pushed her

to a sitting position on the bed so that when she looked down her eyes

were looking directly at the swollen cock.

She smiled at him knowingly and bend her head to pay homage to his

manhood. His prick jerked involuntarily as her soft, sensuous mouth

closed around its head. She sucked him gently and he sighed with

exquisite pleasure. She released his cock from her mouth and went to

work on him with her tongue. She licked the underside of the stiff rod,

trailing the swollen vein to the base of his prick. She took his cock

in her hand, lifted it slightly to gain access to his balls, nibbling

one then the other. He groaned, feeling he would go out of his mind if

she didn't stop. Ingrid returned her attention to his cock and a sigh

of relief escaped his lips as again she took the swollen head in her

warm mouth. When he thought he couldn't stand it any longer he pushed

her into a lying position. She opened her legs wide as he buried his

face in her sex. He licked the wet, slippery lips before plunging his

tongue deeply inside her. In and out, in and out his tongue went to

work on her. His saliva mixing with her juices, making her blonde hair-

lined pussy lips glisten in the shimmering light. His tongue gave her

clitoris several playful flicks before he crawled on top of her. Ingrid

guided the stiff prick to her wet opening and he entered her

gratefully. He withdrew and plunged into her again, deeper and with

greater force.

"Argh..." she cried out, feeling the tip of his rod touching the

innermost area of her vagina while his coarse pubic hair tickled her

clitoris. "Yes...like that...oh...it's so good, baby...I'm gonna

cum...I'm gonna cum..."

Her encouragement spurred him on and he fucked her with greater frenzy.

She pulled up her legs and opened them wider and he stabbed his cock

into her again with greater fury, knowing she was nearing her peak.

Then he felt her body grow tense and she let out a loud groan and he

couldn't hold himself back any longer, spraying the walls of her cunt

with his warm cum. They pulled away from each other and he looked at

her with a satisfied smile on his face.

When he was fully dressed, old Foo gave her a goodnight kiss and let

himself out. He walked tiredly back to his room where his wife was

sleeping, while Ingrid pulled the blanket over herself, drifting slowly

into a dreamless sleep.

After that night they never went to other sex movies together again.

And they have never done it in the park again either. It was to be her

only time. But they have done it elsewhere often enough. A few times

they did it during his lunch break. Those were times when young Foo was

around and old Foo couldn't visit her at her apartment during the

night.

Ingrid would check into a cheap hotel near where old Foo was working.

She would bring some food to the hotel. Most of the time she would

bring home-made sandwiches. He would arrive just five minutes after his

break started. They would have a quick bite and washed the food down

with beer. old Foo preferred beer of course, while Ingrid had never

been too fond of the drink. Lunch was usually followed by a quick romp

on the bed. Those times he would dispense with any foreplay. Ingrid was

almost always ready even without the foreplay. The whole idea of being

in a hotel room with a man, any man, was enough to make her wet and

ready. She needed very little foreplay to get her into the mood for

sex. It sort of came automatically. The most he had to do was put his

finger on her sex and she would be ready almost immediately.

But it was after watching one of the sex movies one day that he had

suggested something that she found unappealing at first. But somehow

she didn't want to disappoint him, so she had reluctantly agreed. He

left her bedroom and went into the kitchen. When he returned he was

carrying bottle of honey. But she refused to do it on the bed, saying

she didn't want the bed to be full of ants later on. So they had gone

into the bathroom. She was reluctant to go first but old Foo didn't

mind. In fact he liked the idea of going first. He told her to sit on

the edge of the bath tub. She did as she was told then leaned backwards

and supported herself on the opposite edge. He lifted her bum off the

bath tub and adjusted her sitting.

"Now put your feet on the edge and lift your bum slightly," he

commanded her as he got down between her legs.

She couldn't help herself but feel a little self-conscious although he

had seen her that way before. Somehow she now felt defenseless and

exposed to him like she never did before. He scooped some honey and

applied it slowly to her pubic mound, making sure that he didn't miss

any part of her sex. Then he began licking the honey on her sex,

working first on the outer edges and slowly bringing his tongue to the

swollen lips.

"Oooh...that's nice," Ingrid said as she felt herself responding

delightfully to his tongue and her juices began flowing freely.

He licked her clean and apply fresh honey and went to work on her

clitoris. It had grown hard and he took the distended nodule between

his lips, sucking on it and making her move uncontrollably on the edge

of the bath tub.

Despite the pleasure she was having Ingrid was glad when he stood up

because sitting in that position was hurting her arms and back.

"Now you do me," he said, handing her the jar of honey.

She sat up and dipped her finger inside the honey and applied it to his

erection. His throbbing manhood shone and she thought it improved its

look, somehow making it appear more menacing. Then she licked away the

honey on her fingers before taking him in her mouth. Her tongue and

lips began removing the sweet-tasting fluid from his cock and she

swallowed it. Her earlier reservation had disappeared. In fact she

found that he tasted better coated with honey than those other times

she sucked him off.

Then she lifted her head and stood up, "Now fuck me, please."

She put her arms around his neck and encircled his waist with her legs.

He had no problems supporting her. She pushed against him and he guided

his hard cock into her. He penetrated and held her close around the

waist as she began to rock in his embrace, her pubis lifting away and

slamming against his, joined together by his prick. Without putting her

down he walked into the bedroom and deposited her on the bed and took

control. She lay back contentedly and closed her eyes as he increased

the speed of his thrusts, his cock burrowing into her warm, wet hole.

Suddenly she arched her aback as she came and he plunged into her one

last time before the old Chinaman’s body slumped on top of his Swedish

daughter-in-law in exhaustion.