My Son's Wife, My Desire

The tiny tricycle cab was crammed with three people: me, my daughter-in-law, and her best friend.

"It's too crowded. Maybe... I should sit on Ethan's lap?" the friend suggested, turning to straddle me.

The bumpy country road made her moan softly.

Her eyes grew dazed and seductive, glistening as she gazed at me.

My daughter-in-law, seeing this, shyly turned her face away.

But her legs tightened involuntarily.

...

The August sun was brutal.

Yet my devoted daughter-in-law Isabella insisted on joining me to harvest corn in the field.

Her delicate skin wasn't suited for such labor.

But she worked beside me for three hours without a single complaint.

"Father, you should rest. Let me handle this," Isabella's soft voice carried over as she approached with a water jug.

She wore a light blue shirt, now mostly soaked with sweat.

The damp fabric clung to her body, nearly transparent.

Two buttons at her collar had come undone unnoticed.

As she bent to set down the water jug, a expanse of pale skin and the hint of cleavage were revealed.

"No need, I'm fine," I quickly averted my gaze, my throat suddenly dry.

Isabella was twenty-eight, married to my adopted son Liam for three years.

She was strikingly beautiful with fair skin and dimpled smiles, acknowledged as the village beauty.

Yet she remained gentle and virtuous, never engaging with the local troublemakers.

"You've been working all morning," she insisted, reaching for the corn in my hands.

As she drew near, a scent of sweat and subtle shampoo filled the air.

My eyes betrayed me, dropping to her open collar.

That pale skin seemed to glow under the sunlight.

A sudden heat rushed to my lower abdomen.

I was horrified to feel my body responding.

Isabella seemed to notice something.

Her gaze traveled downward, then her eyes widened abruptly.

Her cheeks flushed deep red.

I wished I could vanish from embarrassment, hurriedly turning to rearrange the corn pile.

But I heard her soft gasp.

"Father, I'll... work over there," she stammered, almost fleeing the scene.

I stood frozen, heart pounding with shame and regret.

At fifty-nine, how could I harbor such impure thoughts about my own daughter-in-law?

If this got out, where would I hide my face?

My wife passed away when I was forty-five.

Unable to conceive in our youth, we adopted Liam.

After she died, I raised our son alone, never considering remarriage.

But what was wrong with me today?

I looked down at the bulge in my pants and pinched myself hard.

...

After a long day, everyone was exhausted at home.

We hastily ate some noodles.

I took a shower and went straight to bed.

Around midnight, thirst woke me.

I got up to fetch water from the kitchen.

Passing my son's room, I heard rustling sounds and suppressed moans.

I thought, after such a tiring day, they still have energy for intimacy?

As I quickened my pace, I suddenly heard my name.

"Your father... in the cornfield today... he had a reaction when he saw me," Isabella's voice came in broken whispers.

I froze, nearly dropping my glass.