Many Wives in a Midwestern Harem 1

Chapter 1 - The Proposal

Submissive, submission, mother-in-law, cum, wife, mature, harem, watersports

Rob's mother-in-law looked good for her age. At 60, her age barely showed on her olive skin, nor in her figure. She was only 4'11", with moderate sized breasts that certainly hung down, but they didn't droop like others Rob had seen. Her ass was shapely, evidence of a rigorous exercise routine involving extensive squats. Petite and fit, her looks are what convinced Rob to commit to a marriage with his now-wife, Malika. His sex drive was abnormally high, even for a guy in his mid-twenties, and he thought to himself if my wife looks like her mother at 60, I'll be a happy man.

Zebo was his mother-in-law's name, a relic of her home country of Tajikistan. Attractive and studious, she was also dumb as a box of rocks. Her whole family devoutly followed a brand of Islam which was quirky to say the least. For example, Malika was especially submissive to Rob, which was strange given her career as a law intern at a major firm. He noticed that she had always submitted to his requests, even the more extreme sexual favors he had asked for in the past which didn't align necessarily with their more traditional lifestyle. He could only attribute this to their status as immigrants, having brought their customs with them from Asia.

Malika was the spitting image of her mother, only with a slightly fuller ass and smaller breasts. Once, when Rob and Malika's relationship was still fairly young, Rob had gone to grope his wife, running his fingers up her ass crack, only to realize too late that it was Zebo, not Malika. He had been horrified, but she remained silent at the kitchen counter, cooking as though nothing had happened. They never spoke of it.

Everything changed in the days after Rob's father-in-law passed away suddenly. A few days after the funeral, Rob was alone in his office when Zebo entered.

"Robbie jon," she said, peering into his dimly lit suite.

That was her nickname for Rob, which he loved. It meant something like "Robbie dear," and he called her "Zebbie jon" in return.

"Can I come sit?" she asked in her thick middle eastern accent.

"Sure," Rob replied, twirling around in his chair and observing her taking a seat on the couch. "What's up."

"There's something important that I need to talk to you about," she declared, and Rob sensed a certain nervousness about her that piqued his interest. "Has my daughter spoken to you about our ways after a husband passes?"

Rob shook his head. Malika had not been in a mood to speak of her father's passing. That was all well and good with Rob, given that his father-in-law had not approved of their marriage and personally hated Rob for simply being a Midwestern white guy. Tall and handsome, Rob could feel the jealousy radiating from the man, who was 5'5" in his heyday and started balding at 30, every moment they were together while he was alive.

"In our culture, it is customary for a woman to always submit to a man," she said, swallowing hard before continuing. "It must be this way at all times, with a woman having a man to guide her, command her, all those things.

She paused, gathering her thoughts and considering how to say in English what she meant.

"With the death of my husband, that role would fall on my son, but I had only daughters. There is only you."

"Me? For what?"

"This is my way. The way of my family. The way it has been for hundreds of years. A woman must have a man to instruct us. It is a great shame to have no man fill this role.

Rob shook his head in disbelief. "Is this a joke?"

"No, it is very serious," she replied, and he could see her face grow flush.

"You seem perfectly capable of handling yourself," Rob replied, not really believing what he was saying, at least in Zebo's case.

In his experience she had not shown herself to be a person capable of issuing good advice, so he could only imagine what she would be like without her husband to act as guardrails. In that way she was perfectly opposite of her daughter.

"But that is not what I want," was her response.

"So- so what would you need me to do, exactly?"

"You will tell me what to do, and I will obey. This can be anything you want."

Rob considered this. "You already do our laundry and cook every day without us having to ask. What else?"

"Whatever you like. Housework, errands, I will not say no. I will come to you when I need to make a decision, and ask what I should do. I will leave my finances in your care."

"What about your daughter?"

"She is your wife. She will accept this."

"This seems like... an awful lot. Frankly, I can't tell if you're pranking me right now."

"I am not pranking."

"Alright, well..." Rob pondered a moment. "I need some time to think about it. Is that ok?"

"Whatever you want is what I want," Zebo said, standing up to leave.

"Have you told Malika about this?" Rob asked. "Have you told her that we're having this conversation?"

"No, would you like me to?"

Rob hesitated. "I don't think so. Lets hold off."

Zebo bowed slightly, saying "Thank you, Robbie jon."

Then she left Rob in a stunned silence. That was the weirdest interaction that he'd ever had in his life, and it gave him this curious euphoric tingling back the down of his neck. He wondered what Zebo's angle was.

During his life, Rob's father-in-law had sought to break up Rob's relationship with his daughter. Zebo had time and again played into this toxic dynamic. Was this his father-in-law, Farhod's, final attack from the grave?

He decided to do some digging. He found a middle eastern forum on the internet and posted his question, detailing the conversation.

"Is this a real thing?" He asked.

Within minutes, a reply came.

"Yes, it's very real. People of the Daier tribe take this seriously. It's jarringly antiquated for those of us in America, but it's crucial that you handle this situation with tact," said the anonymous poster.

This person had to know what he was talking about, because they knew his in-law's obscure tribe by name without him revealing that information. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind, but one single one emerged from the chaos. It was a thought that excited him beyond anything else.

"How extreme are we talking?"

"She's already submitted her finances to you. What does that say? I think it's clear she'll do as you say."

"Anything?"

"What do you mean by anything?"

"If I tell her to walk down the street naked, will she do it?"

His heart pounded as he awaited a reply. It came after a long pause.

"That's not really the intention, but yeah if you really wanted, she would probably do it."

"What about" he stopped himself before typing the next word. Did he really want to go down this road? The thoughts going through his mind were devious to say the least."

"What about sex?"

It took what felt like ages for the anonymous poster to reply.

"Aren't you her son?"

"Son-in-law."

"That's not really the intention."

"She said anything at all, I'm just curious."

"If that's what she said, then there you go."

The conversation had been so stimulating, his thoughts running so wild, that Rob didn't even notice that he was sporting the hardest erection of his life. He began to rub it, imagining himself in a room with Zebo, stripping naked and bending over the side of the bed. Just as he entered her in his mind, his cock shot cum out onto the keyboard and down his screen. It was the quickest, most intense orgasm of his life, and he instantly had regret.

"You're disgusting" he thought to himself as he cleaned up. "What if she tells your wife? What if it's a trap?"

It took some time, but his regret subsided along with his fears, and he resettled into the conclusion that he would test her out, next chance he got.

As he laid in bed that night, his wife joined him. Malika cuddled up next to him, drawing near and feeling his chest.

"How was your day?" she asked innocently.

"It was good," he replied, vaguely.

He studied her round face, looking into her deep brown eyes that rested between her jet-black hair.

"Did your mom talk to you about anything?" he asked.

"Like what?"

"Your father, transitions, that kind of stuff?"

"No, why? Did she talk to you?"

Rob's mind raced for a good way out of this line of questioning. "No, I just worry about her, being alone."

"What if she moved in with us?" Malika asked, and Rob had never heard such a brilliant idea in his whole life.

"What about Nisha?" he asked.

Nisha was their female Indian roommate, also an intern at Malika's firm.

"I think she'd be open to having someone clean the house and cook. What do you think?"

"I think... it's brilliant."

The next day Rob found the house empty, save for Zebo, who had already been staying with them. Now was his moment, and he found her in the kitchen, doing dishes. Her ass wiggled back and forth as she scrubbed, not realizing her son-in-law was standing behind her. His heart pounded so fast that he worried he would have a cardiac event right then and there. It was now or never, and he'd made the decision to risk everything.

Approaching from behind, he took his hand, and slowly but firmly ran his finger along the seam between her ass cheeks, stopping and lingering near the bottom.

Surprised, she turned to look at him in her pink gloves. He looked her square in the eye, and there could be no mistake now that it had been intentional.

"Robbie jon..." she said, looking concerned at him, but she had no follow up.

"I've made a decision," he said, going to sit at the kitchen table. "I'll take you on, just like you want."

Her eyes searched for how to feel, and she settled on something neutral. "That is very good. I am.. I am happy for that."

"The first thing that I want you to do is pull down your pants."

Zebo stood stunned, offended, scared. "Why my pants?"

"You said anything."

"What do you want my pants for?"

"I don't want your pants, Zebbie jon." Dumb as ever, she couldn't put two and two together. "You said anything. This is what I want."

"What about Malika?"

"You're not going to say a thing to her."

Zebo stood swaying side to side slightly as she weighed her next move.

"Anything I want," Rob added, and she finally gave in.

Her hand moved to her pants button, undoing it slowly. Then it moved down, and she brought the gold zipper as low as it could go.

Rob watched, wide eyed, and she parted the two sides of the pants, revealing her light blue panties. That alone was enough to snap his cock to full attention. It stuck out down his pant leg, and he rubbed it subtly.

Then she brought her pants down slowly around her thighs, and Rob could see the outline of her mound. The skin on her thighs was far lighter than the rest of her body, with modest cellulite dimpling. Rob noticed the sole feature which betrayed her age: her small pooch, which hung slightly down and showed through her underwear. She had given birth to three girls, and this was clearly what was left over.

Reaching her knees, Zebo stopped and straightened upright. She stood there, exposed in the kitchen sunlight. The slightest indent was visible at the peak of her mound, where her pussy slit was. Her face was beet red, with a look of utter humiliation.

Rob wasn't sure what to do next. Not in his wildest dreams did he ever imagine things getting this far. He would have bet money just minutes ago that this whole affair would be over in less than a minute, ending with him having to deny accusations made by Zebo to his wife. Why was this worth the risk? He didn't know, but was too overcome with desire to stop himself. She compelled him almost like a spell, and that tingly sensation in the back of his neck began to rise and swell.

Finally, he resolved to act. Standing up, he thanked god for his choice of sweatpants, because they gave just enough slack for his cock to point out comfortably. As he approached, Zebo's eyes drifted down to the bulge. Her look betrayed her intimidation.

He came to a stop not 3 inches from her. Towering over the woman, his cock reached her belly button. She looked down at it, in part to avoid looking him in the eye. This allowed her to watch as he took his finger and gently lifted her shirt up, revealing her tummy. It was as pale as her thighs, surprisingly, and he felt her skin ever-so-lightly. The cellulite didn't bother him, he had envisioned it every time he masturbated while thinking about her. He knew it would be part of the deal.

Then his hand drifted up across her stomach, and reached her breast. He ran a finger along the bottom, and felt the bra underneath.

"Take this off," he said in a near-whisper.

"Robbie jon..." she replied even more hushed.

"Do it."

She obeyed, reaching behind her and unlatching the bra. Her tight shirt prevented it from falling to the floor, but it was loose enough now for what Rob intended. He reached up to her low-cut collar with his finger, bringing the extremely thin fabric down, and down, until her right breast was exposed.

Rob could hear her breathing heavily as her tit spilled out into the open air, holding the shirt down with its weight. He brushed his thumb against her nipple before moving over the left, drawing down the shirt so that now both breasts were fully exposed.

He watched her face as she resigned to what was happening. An acceptance came over her. Rob decided to test it.

He groped her soft left breast, cupping and kneading it. He felt its weight in his palm, then carefully rubbed her nipple with his thumb. She whimpered at the intense sensation, and he licked his thumb, wetting it well before going back to pinching the nipple lightly.

Hard as a rock, he reached the point where he could no longer bear to withhold himself. With his unutilized hand, he reached down and pulled the front of his joggers down. Not wearing underwear, his hard cock sprang out into the sunlight. It was 7 inches when fully erect, with robust girth.

He looked from his cock to Zebo's face. She was staring down at his member, which was only an inch from her stomach.

"How big was your husband?"

She made no response.

"Am I bigger?"

She nodded yes, but he already knew the answer. His father-in-law had been a short, stocky, unimpressive man.

He used his thumb and index finger to stroke his cock as he fondled her tits, playing with them without regard for anything but his own pleasure. Zebo's expression was one of being overwhelmed by the situation at-hand. There was fear, apprehension, and - possibly, just possibly - a hint of pleasure.

He could feel his climax building, and he was losing control. He quickly made a decision on where he wanted to finish.

The hand caressing her tits now moved down to the brim of her blue underwear. It rode high on her waist, concealing her pooch, which she was clearly insecure about. This was another thing that never bothered Rob. Her imperfections just gave her looks a unique character that drew him in far more than it pushed him away.

Rob slipped his finger past the strap of her panties, and she gasped as he began to pull. The thick material gave way and light shone down past her tummy and onto her now-expose mound. The sight was all consuming, and he stopped stroking himself momentarily for fear that he might ejaculate too soon. He pulled the panties more and more, revealing unkempt brown hair which stretched across her entire pubic region. Below that was something better than sparkling pure gold. As he pulled down and out, the fabric gave way to show the top of her slit, then her clitoris. The hair did little to block the view, and Rob could feel his orgasm coming even without rubbing himself.

Grabbing his cock with one hand and holding her panties with another, he pointed himself downwards, directly at her clit. Bending ever so slightly, he touched the head of his penis to her clitoris, and began to rub himself. He could feel her soft labia with his sensitive, uncircumcised penis. The sensation was euphoric, and he felt himself coming up over the top of a mountain, and then sliding down the other side, erupting hot white semen all over her genitals and into the base of her panties.

"Robbie jon.." she said, with surprising understanding.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head and rope after rope sprayed the 60 year old woman's crotch. He breathed heavily, then slowed as his orgasm subsided.

Finished, he let his cock go back into his loose joggers, and let go of her panties, trapping his semen inside.

"May I go wash?" she asked, meekly.

He thought about the request, then replied, "No."

Rob left his mother-in-law like that in the kitchen, unsure of what to do and where to go from here. Rob, on the other hand, jumped into bed and fell fast asleep almost instantaneously. His head was clear as the summer sky.

He awoke two hours later to the sound of his wife entering the house. Now his heart began to race. It was the moment of truth for his little experiment. He could hear them speaking in Tajik, and he wondered at their tone of voice. He couldn't understand what they said, but it seemed like an amiable enough conversation.

Rob got out of bed and entered the kitchen. Zebo was there, still wearing the same pants and shirt as before. He stood at the doorway, staring at her from a distance as they spoke in a foreign tongue. His eyes caught her glance, and she showed no sign of distress or agitation. Calm, peaceful, happy.

Malika saw her husband and approached, kissing him on the lips as a hello.

"How was your day?"

"It was... unexpected, but fun."

"My mom said you kept her company. Thank you for that."

"You're welcome."

That night, Rob fucked his wife with renewed enthusiasm. She lay face down on the bed with her legs together as he pumped his cock up and into her wet cunt. He pushed her head into the bedding in complete domination. In his mind, he was fucking Zebo. He pictured her ass wagging back and forth as she washed the dishes and imposed them on to his wife. He pulled her asscheeks apart and thumbed her asshole, imagining what Zebo's asshole would look like when he saw it. He wondered what she would smell like. Malika's scent emanated upwards and he took a mental note to do a comparison. When he came, it was a flash and he saw Zebo's face. She was smiling as he ejaculated into her, pulling him up and toward her.

When the orgasm subsided, he wiped his cock off and fell to her side, debating which fantasy to fulfill tomorrow.

"I really appreciate that you spent time with my mom today," Malika said.

"My pleasure," he replied, smirking slightly in the dark where he knew his wife wouldn't see it.

"She has so much anxiety and loneliness now that my dad is gone."

"That's a little surprising given what you've said about their relationship. Weren't they not sleeping together for years?"

"Kind of, yeah, but it was about companionship more than sex. My mom is the least sexual person on the planet. I don't think she's had a sexual encounter since the early nineties. In my culture having a man is more important than anything else. It's sacred."

"So I've heard..."