Daughter-In-Law "Bears" Down

I blame the Bears for my affair with my daughter-in-law. Really.

My son had married this gorgeous, curvy, green-eyed vixen with curly light brown hair that fell to the middle of her back. She was sweet as homemade apple pie, was smart as a whip, and had a quick wit. Melody Harper, now Mrs. Melody Banks, was absolutely perfect with one key exception.

She loved the Chicago Bears.

We're Packer fans, thank you very much. My son Jimmy and I have both worshipped at the cathedral known as Lambeau Field and both have wardrobes full of green and gold. Let me tell you, that's pretty conspicuous when you live in central Indiana, where the Colts reign supreme.

I got so fed up with being forced to watch the Colts every Sunday that I ponied up the cash for a satellite dish and that package that gives you access to all NFL games every Sunday. The very first week, Melody was at my door. Wearing a Cutler jersey.

"Hi Daddy Banks," she sang when I opened the door. "I'm here for the game!"

"You're gonna look funny watching the Packers-Saints game wearing that Bears shirt," I told her as I moved aside and let her in.

"But the Bears are playing the Eagles today," she told me. "Can't you let me watch the Bears game? You got a DVR with your satellite system, right? You could record the Packers and watch that after the Bears game!"

Told you she was smart. She had also brought along a 12-pack of St. Pauli Girl; that was the real reason I let her watch her game.

I settled onto my recliner (nobody sits in that chair but me) in full recline mode and Mel settled down on the couch. She squirmed a bit as the Bears offense, and Cutler, struggled early. She growled — swear to god, she growled — when Cutler threw an interception just short of the goal line.

"I gotta pee," she announced after putting down her empty beer bottle. Then she disappeared down the hall.

I took advantage of her absence to check on the Packers game. True to form, they were up 7-0 over the Saints but New Orleans was giving the Packer defense fits.

"Time to change it back!" Melody announced as she skipped into the living room. She hopped over to the recliner and jumped into my lap.

"What the fuck?" I yelled, only to fall silent as Mel grabbed my ears and pulled my lips to hers. She gave me a warm, wet open-mouth kiss with enough tongue to make me forget football for at least 30 seconds. I put my hands on her hips and thought it was funny that I didn't feel anything under that Bears jersey. I broke the kiss and looked Mel in the eye.

"I just want to thank you for letting me watch the game!" Mel exclaimed.

Then she grabbed one hand and placed it on one very round, very firm butt cheek. One very naked butt cheek. She wiggled her butt, which also wiggled her pussy. Which was smashed onto the crotch of my Packers sweat pants.

"Mmmm, I think I may have to flag you for HOLDING, Daddy Banks!" Mel sang as she pushed her torso up from mine. She raised up and settled on my thighs. She grabbed the hem of her jersey and pulled it up to reveal her midriff and then her firm, round breasts capped with brown areola and nipples.

I inhaled loudly. Good god was this girl beautiful. "God, Mel, you're beautiful," I said. She smiled.

"Thank you, Daddy Banks!" she exclaimed, then dropped down to dangle a nipple above my mouth. I latched on and sucked while flicking the nub with my tongue. Mel groaned while slipping a hand into my sweat pants. If she was surprised to find me lacking underwear, she didn't say anything.

Her fingers found my hard, throbbing cock and squeezed it a bit. I released her nipple and told her to watch out. "If you're not careful, I'm gonna spray-starch my sweats," I said.

"Can't let that happen, can we?" she asked before sliding down me, grabbing the waistband of my sweats, and pulling them off. Then she swallowed my prick with no warning, no hesitation, and apparently no intention of giving me a long, slow blowjob. She sucked hard as she bobbed up and down on my tool while teasing my balls with her nimble fingers.

In seconds my hips were spasming and I was yelling for her to watch out. I came so hard I saw stars and nearly blacked out. As I came out of it, I noticed that Mel's mouth was still locked on my cock and still gently sucking. She pulled up and used a finger to wipe up a stray gob of spunk from the corner of her mouth. She stuck the finger in her mouth and pulled it out clean.

"They sure don't sell that at the concession stand at the game!" Mel said with a smile. "How was it?"

I was still gasping for breath, but managed to inform her that "it" was damn good. She smiled.

"Looks like you're almost ready to go again," she said. I hadn't realized she was still massaging my member, but she had me almost rock hard again.

She got up on her knees and positioned her pussy right over my prick before I grabbed her full hips. "Let's not do this," I stared.

"But I owe you, Daddy," Mel said.

"You didn't let me finish," I said. "I was going to say, let's not do this on the recliner. There's a nice bed and a TV in the guest room."

Melody grinned and jumped off me, grabbing my hand and pulling me out of the recliner. She pulled me down the hall to the guest room with her round, naked ass bouncing in front of me.

She ran into the guest room and pulled the coverlet off the bed. The she jumped on the bed, rolled over on her back, and held her arms open in invitation. I pulled my Aaron Rodgers jersey off and moved onto her, sliding my hard meat into her warm, wet, very tight pussy as she wrapped her arms and legs around me. As I pumped, Mel thrust back and moaned and groaned and rubbed my back with her hands and massaged my thighs with her feet and I tried to hold back but was soon slamming into her hard.

Within seconds I began convulsing and then stabbed into her hard, holding myself in her as I shot another huge load. I was exhausted but found enough energy to roll off her.

As I lay back, Melody rolled over on top of me, her eyes darting over to the TV. "Fuck," she muttered.

I laughed. "Cutler give it up again?"

She shook her head. "Unbelievable."

Then she bent down and gave me a soft, loving kiss. After breaking it off, she got a serious look on her face.

"You'll get this every Sunday that Mama Banks and Jimmy are both working and you let me watch the Bears game, okay?" she said.

"Deal," I said.

"And if Cutler can win a game, I'll give you my ass!" she said with a smile.

I groaned. Now I had to root for the Bears to win. I would be betraying my team, my son, and my wife. Which one did I feel worse about?