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My Fat Mother-in-Law

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WARNING: This is a dark story featuring cheating, humiliation, and betrayal of people who probably don’t deserve it.

If these things do not appeal to you, I suggest you look elsewhere.

And remember: this is just a fantasy. Treat the people in your life with love and respect.


My wife Erin hated her mother – that much I knew. But she never really elaborated much on it. She would occasionally bring up stories of her mom ruining her prom, or trying to force her into a career path she didn’t want, and just how generally inconsiderate she would be, but up until now, it really hadn’t been an issue.

We met a year or two after college, online. Erin had a degree in English, and worked at library designing community programs whereas I had a business degree and worked at a branch of my uncle’s accounting firm. It was a pretty cushy job, and the good pay and flexible hours made it easier to work around Erin’s constant work at the library.

We dated for a while – about five years, to be more specific, and eventually both just kind of decided it was time to get married. It was a low-key thing, my parents were there, and our group of friends, but Erin’s only living family was her mom, and, knowing that Erin hated her, we had planned the wedding at a time we knew she couldn’t come. So, I had never met her – just heard the stories.

Until now, three years into our marriage, when Erin walked up to me with a distraught look on her face. She held out her phone towards me, and played a voicemail.

“Erin, sweetie, I know we haven’t always seen eye-to-eye,” a woman’s voice said through the phone. It was a somewhat deep voice for a woman, but soft and seemingly pleasant. “But I’m going to be in your city for the next few weeks, and I think we should catch up. I haven’t even met your husband! I’ll text you on Monday, and we can figure something out.”

I looked at my wife, who seemed to be on the verge of crying. I wasn’t sure what to do.

“Well, we don’t have to meet her-” I started to suggest.

Erin cut me off. “Of course we have to meet her! She’s the only family I have left. I’d feel worse if I just ignored her. But…” She shrugged a little. “This is gonna suck. She’s so… awful.”

I got up to squeeze her into a warm hug. “It will be okay. She’ll visit briefly, we’ll exchange pleasantries, and then go our separate ways. Easy peasy,” I told her.

“Easy peasy,” she repeated, sounding a little more confident.

I really didn’t know what to expect from my mother-in-law. I had never seen a picture of her – in fact, I wasn’t even completely sure of her name. I know I had seen it, on birth certificates and such, but I couldn’t remember it, which I embarrassingly realized as we both approached our front door to greet her.

Erin looked at me with those big, worried eyes, sighed, and opened the door. What I saw was not at all what I expected.

To understand, I’ll need to describe my wife. Erin was beautiful – beyond beautiful. She was tall for a woman, only a little bit shorter than my six feet. She had an athletic, but soft, build, with small hips and a tight, firm butt. Her breasts were perfect for her body – a small but perky handful. But it was her face that blew me away every time I looked at her – a perfect button nose, high cheekbones and full lips. She generally wore her hair in a neat ponytail, and kept it dyed a dark blonde.

Erin worked hard at her fitness – she worked long hours at an unrewarding job, and spent a lot of time compensating with runs and workouts at the gym, rather than eating junk food and relaxing, and it definitely showed on her figure.

Based on her stories, I had expected her mom to look similar, but in a sort of cold and evil way – like an evil mother figure from a Disney movie. But what I saw wasn’t that at all.

The woman in the doorway was fat. Fat, and a good four inches shorter than Erin. Fat, and smiling with a warm, chubby face. Fat, with her mountainous cleavage pushed up to her double chin, peaking out what should have been a modest sweater. Fat, and stretching that same sweater to its limit with a massive belly, squeezed into a pair of tight blue jeans. Fat, and reaching out for a hug, with her flabby arms.

I didn’t know what to do. Erin didn’t move. I stepped forward slightly, and was engulfed in her body as she pulled me in for a hug. She felt so soft and… warm. She smelled pleasant, clearly wearing a lovely perfume. This was not what I was expecting.

I gave her a half-hearted hug back, and stepped back. Erin followed suit, looking pained in the process.

My mother-in-law turned to me. “You must be Tim,” she said as she looked me up and down. “Little Erin always did know how to pick ’em. I’m Ellen, your mother-in-law, though you wouldn’t know it, seeing as we’ve never even met!”

She squeezed my arm. “I wish we’d met a little sooner though!”

I chuckled nervously, and looked at my wife, who looked horrified. “Uh, yeah. Well, we’re bahçelievler escort meeting now. Why don’t you come in? Erin cooked us a lunch, and-“

Ellen rolled her eyes. “Erin made us lunch? I’m guessing… a salad and some chopped fruit? I’m going to order us some food. Let me get my phone…” she trailed off as she moved towards the kitchen.

“I’m, uh, starting to see what you don’t like about her…” I whispered to my wife as we followed, laughing a little bit to myself that Ellen had correctly guess what Erin had made.

Erin chased after her. “Mom, it’s okay, we don’t need-“

“Nonsense!” Ellen replied, waving her phone at us. “The order’s already in progress. Now, tell me how things have been!”

We sat down with Ellen for another hour and a half, and awkwardly filled her in on our lives the past few years.

Ellen was… overbearing, to say the least. Well, she was to Erin, anyways – constantly cutting her off, disparaging what she did, getting not-so-subtle digs in on her life.

“Well, next week,” Erin was saying at one point, “I’m running a program to teach low-income people to use the library’s computers to update their resumes and apply for new-“

Ellen cut her off. “You’re helping other people make more money? What about yourself!? You’re wasting all your time at this dead-end job, making barely anything, while your husband pays for everything.” She poked at Erin’s slim arm. “You’re wasting away, too. How are you supposed to keep your man happy looking like this?”

I awkwardly cleared my throat. It was uncomfortable seeing my mother-in-law trash everything about my wife, but it was also strange to see her comment on my wife’s figure when her own was so out of shape. And not to mention how uncomfortable it was for her to keep bringing up our love life.

Erin didn’t really respond. I tried to change the subject, and marveled at how much of the pizza Ellen was eating.

Eventually, she was on her way. As we said goodbye, Ellen insisted that she get my number, in case we needed anything while Erin was at work. I awkwardly put it in her phone, seeing the despair on my wife’s face as I did so.

Finally, she left, and we closed the door behind her. My wife dragged herself to the living room, and flopped onto the couch. “Jesus fucking Christ,” she muttered. “It was worse than I thought.”

I followed her, and looked out the front window, seeing Ellen’s massive, round form shuffle to her car. She got to the door, and looked back at the house. I froze, not sure if she could see me watching her, and after a few seconds, she got into the car, her entire body jiggling in the process.

“Yeah. Jesus fucking Christ,” I repeated.


“I didn’t really expect her to be so…” I started.

“Fat?” Erin interrupted.

“No- well, yeah, I didn’t expect that either,” I responded.

“Why do you think I work out so much? I don’t want to be anything like her,” Erin explained.

“I guess that makes sense,” I mused. “But no, what I meant was… well, I thought she would be this, like, ice bitch. But she was sort of outwardly nice and warm, just…”

“Fucking miserable and cruel? Yeah, she acts like she’s the friendliest person, but all she wants to do is crush me beneath her giant fat heel. At least if she was an ice bitch everyone would know she was evil,” my wife responded.

Over the next couple weeks, I heard more of the stories – but thankfully neither of us had actually heard anything from Erin’s mother.

I learned that Ellen was a huge stoner, for one. “You didn’t notice?” my wife asked, incredulously. “She was fucking blazed out of her mind when she was here. Why do you think she was wearing so much perfume?”

I thought back – her eyes had been pretty bloodshot, and it made sense that she had been masking a smell with all the perfume. Jesus – that was her high? How miserable was she when she wasn’t high?

I also learned that she had been a huge slut when Erin was growing up. “She used to bring back a new guy, like, every night. I used to convince myself it was because she missed Dad, but I think it was the opposite. I think she wanted to destroy the memory of him.”

She really slept around that much? I tried to compare that image of her with the woman who had shown up at our house a couple weeks back. Did she put on all the weight later in life or something?

Erin also elaborated on some of the other stories. Her mom had scared off her prom date, she had convinced Erin’s guidance counselor to not see her, making it incredibly difficult to get into the colleges she wanted, and she had driven off all of Erin’s friends over the years. I really didn’t understand why someone would do all that.

Three weeks after Ellen had shown up at her house, she sent me a text. “It was so great to finally meet you!” it read. “I know Erin isn’t my biggest fan, but I do need some help moving some things tomorrow. Could you help your poor mother-in-law bala escort out?”

I’m not really sure why I showed up. I had a light workload that week and didn’t need to go into the office every day. I knew Erin would be upset if I went, so I went while she was at work. I guess maybe I just wanted to understand this evil figure who had seemingly tried her best to ruin my wife’s life?

I pulled up to the address she had given me, and I was confused. It was a residential neighborhood, and the address seemed to be for one of the houses. I had thought she’d been staying in a hotel, but I saw her car parked outside the house – along with a box truck.

I turned off the car, and the front door of the house opened. I saw Ellen’s massive, wobbling frame wave to me from inside.

I got out, and approached the house. As I did, I got a better look at Ellen. Today, she was wearing a low-cut t-shirt and some leggings – an outfit that was much more form-fitting than the last time I’d seen her. It really let me get a better look at her figure – the best word I could use to describe her was “round.” Her belly was round and bulbous, but so was her face, with its double chin, and so were her massive breasts, which wobbled obscenely beneath her shirt, clearly pushed up to show a large amount of cleavage. This was not a woman that could be described as “chubby” or “thick.” She was fat.

As I got closer, I could see that she really did resemble my wife – in the face at least, buried beneath the fat cheeks and double chin. She had the same cute nose, the same full lips, and the same bit, expressive eyes. Well, they would have been big and expressive if they weren’t half-open and bloodshot. She was only about 49 years old, and some signs of her age, but still looked plenty youthful – just a few creases and crows feet on her face. Her hair was brown, though, in contrast to Erin’s dyed blonde, and she wore it in a messy bun rather than a tight ponytail.

She pulled me in for another hug, and again I was enveloped into her soft body – this time with more skin contact. It was entirely different from hugging my fit wife. This time, beneath the perfume, I could smell the faint aroma of marijuana.

She let me go, and I looked around. The house was empty beyond a few boxes. “I’m confused,” I said. “This doesn’t look like an AirBnB..?”

Ellen batted playfully at my arm. “Of course not. This is my new house!”

“You’re moving here!?” I blurted out. It was bad enough that I was here without my wife knowing, but now I knew news that would cause her a lot of distress. “You have to tell Erin.”

Ellen rolled her eyes. “And have her cause a big scene? I’ll tell her when I’m ready, and we’ll do our best to soften the blow. You wouldn’t tell her before that, would you?” she asked, with the same puppy-dog eyes my wife would use on me.

“Uh, sure. For now. But we have to break it to her gently.” I gulped slightly, and started to continue. “I know that she seems-“

Ellen cut me off. “Enough about her. Today isn’t about causing drama, I just need some help moving my stuff into the new house, and I knew just the strapping young man to help me.”

She squeezed the muscles in my arm gently. I awkwardly backed away from her.

I looked around the house and asked, more to change the subject than anything, “What do you do for work? I mean, the housing market is not great right now, I’m just surprised you were able to get this place so easily.”

Ellen, for the first time, looked a little surprised. “Did Erin never tell you? Her dad died on the job when she was a kid, and we got a huge payout. Thankfully I was smart enough to get someone to manage the money, and I still make enough off of that that I don’t have to work. I still do, sometimes, when I’m feeling restless, but it’s nice not having to worry if I need to take some time off.”

I whistled. “I’m sorry to hear that. Uh, about your husband. I bet it’s nice not having to work though,” I awkwardly told her.

“I miss him. He was good to me. But you’re right – it’s incredible not having to work unless I want to. Honestly,” she told me, “I could be sharing the money with you two, but Erin has to hold this grudge against me.”

She shrugged. “Oh well, her loss. Anyways, help me with my stuff.”

I helped her move boxes and a little bit of furniture in for the next few hours. Ellen seemed to give off a different vibe today – whereas before I saw sort of a typical homely middle-aged mother-in-law who masked her cruelty in a fake warmth, today I saw… well, just a person.

She moved about with a grace unbecoming of her large figure, and moved in a way that made it clear she wasn’t self-conscious at all. Her outfit today really clung to her exaggerated curves, and she was perpetually walking in front of me, and bending over at the waist to pick up boxes.

Compared to the rest of her body, her hips were not especially wide, making her butt look a little balgat escort smaller. I could see, though, that it was surprisingly shapely – sort of round and jiggly. It was much more of her than I wanted to see, and I was getting a little anxious as the day went on.

Finally, we were done moving things into the house. I realized the place was actually pretty nice, even if it was a little smaller than my own home. I peered into the backyard and realized there was a decently sized pool. I was immediately jealous – there wasn’t a hot summer day that went by without me pining for my own pool.

Ellen noticed me looking out the window, and came up to me. “You’re welcome to use the pool, you know. Anytime you want, just come over,” she told me. She squeezed my arm again, “As long as you don’t mind if I watch.”

I moved away from her, and turned towards her. She was flushed and sweaty after a day of moving boxes, and her massive chest heaved with each breath. I was tired of her touching me, and I had seen enough of her for one day.

“Uh,” I dumbly replied. “Thanks. We’ll see. Anyways, I gotta get home and finish some work.”

Ellen watched as I gathered my things. I turned towards her again. “Listen,” I started. “I think it’s best if we don’t tell Erin about this. Uh, I mean, about you moving here. At least not yet. I know you don’t mean her any harm, but she’s got a lot of issues with her childhood that she’s still working out, and I think you dredge a lot of that up.”

I realized halfway through that I was not-so-subtly accusing the woman in front of me of being a bad mother, and I blushed and stammered to a stop. Ellen didn’t look upset though – she just gave a wry smile and nodded.

“That’s fine. It’s our little secret for now,” she replied, and walked me to the door. “Don’t be a stranger now!”

I returned home, and finished what little work I had left. When my wife got home from work, I pulled her into a loving embrace, feeling guilty that I knew someone she hated had moved nearby, and that I had spent the day helping her. As I hugged my wife, I couldn’t help but notice how bony and small her body felt compared to her mother’s.

A week or so passed, and my wife was none the wiser. After her initial period of gloominess after her mother’s visit, she seemed to be getting a little cheerier, and was talking more rationally about her relationship with her mom. I’m guessing the visit, while painful, was helping her work through some of the trauma.

While Ellen lived in our city now, she was still about 45 minutes away, so it was unlikely that she and my wife would bump into each other. Nevertheless, I knew we needed to broach the subject soon – the longer I waited, the more worse it would look that I knew she had moved here.

I wasn’t sure how to break the news, and especially how to tell her I knew – or if I should just hide that information. I got out my phone and texted my mother-in-law. “Hope you are well,” it said. “We need to tell Erin you moved here. Any thoughts?”

I got a text back about half an hour later. “Glad to see you’re still thinking of me,” I read, getting frustrated at the winking emoji that accompanied it. “Why don’t you come over tomorrow? We can discuss our game plan, and you can help me set up my laptop and wi-fi.”

I sighed. “Okay,” I replied, not looking forward to it.

The next day, I showed up around 11 in the morning. It was a sweltering hot day, and I wondered if Ellen had opened the pool yet, though I hadn’t brought a bathing suit.

She had sent a text earlier to come right in when I arrived, so I did. I didn’t see her inside. I looked around a bit before hearing some splashing – I looked out the window at the pool, and saw Ellen swimming around. I moved to the slider door in back, and opened it.

Ellen finally noticed I was here, and swam towards the pool’s ladder. As she climbed out, I saw an image that I will never forget.

I had expected her to be wearing one of those modest mom-style one-piece swimsuits. She was not. She was wearing the skimpiest bikini I had ever seen – so skimpy, in fact, that it took me a second to realize she was wearing anything at all. Two small triangles barely covered her nipples, and were supported by the thinnest of straps. As she fully climbed out, I realized I could barely see the bottom of her bikini beneath her giant belly and thick thighs.

Her wet body glistened in the sun as she finally climbed her way out of the pool. Every step on the ladder had caused her entire body to jiggle obscenely. I felt like I should have wanted to throw up, or something, but instead I was just mesmerized. Ellen seemed to notice me staring, and smiled – before moving to grab a towel off a pool chair.

As she did, she turned away from me and bent over, and I realized she was wearing a g-string. A tiny strap descended into the crack of her ass, displaying everything. I’d seen some women in g-strings at the beach before – never my wife, of course – but no one that looked like this. Her round butt jiggled as she grabbed the towel – and then the rest jiggled as well as she dried herself off.

She finished drying off, and turned back towards me. “Enjoying the show?” she asked, as she started walking towards the house.

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