Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00353 515 73 20
[Author’s Note: As usual, I would like to thank my editors: Bigg Mike, Captain Krunch, Rex and Latina. Without them, this chapter would have been just stuck in my mind. So give them a round of applause.
Next, to those who comment on the chapters, suggest things, and even send me messages on my email, thank you. I appreciate all of that. You guys are one of the major reasons why I continue this story.
Anyway, always remember, this is all just fiction.]
Chapter IV: Epulo
(Ahhmm … fuck. Ahhh … you are so good, Marcus.)
As my Mom’s panting and dirty talk continued, I contemplated whether I should just bust into her room. But the fear of seeing her naked and in the arms of Marcus held me back. I still didn’t want to believe she’d had the audacity to cheat on my father. To make it worse, she did it with my classmate: a guy the same age as her own son.
I know he’s your lifesaver and everything, but why, Mom? Why?
Just then I heard the front door open, followed by footsteps.
“Honey, I’m home.”
It’s Dad. The situation was clearly heading from bad to worse. If he sees Mom with Marcus, there will be a riot.
I got up off of my bed and started pacing in circles around my room, trying to think of a way to avert the situation. Nothing came to my mind. I froze at the the creaking sound of my mother’s bedroom door as it was opened.
“Jesus, Eva!” I heard my father exclaim. It was too late.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Why are you naked?”
“And what’s with the apple?”
“Well, Greg. If you must know, I was masturbating.”
“I can see that. But doing it with an apple? Jesus.”
“Well, if you were fucking me from time to time, I wouldn’t have needed to resort to this.”
“Are we having this argument again? I’m tired, Eva.”
“Tired from what? Drinking?”
“Yes, drinking. So that at least for a moment, I could forget all of our problems and all of your whining—”
That seemed to be the last straw. The next thing I knew, I was listening to a scuffle.
“Get your hands off me!”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”
Mom kept shouting, and Dad kept apologizing. And then I heard things being thrown.
“Ouch! Hey that was an apple!”
“Do you want something bigger? How about this lamp shade then?”
“No! Please, I’m sorry.”
“Get the fuck out!”
“Where am I going to sleep?”
“Sleep on the couch!”
“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” I muttered.
The door was slammed hard, after which Dad Mombled something I couldn’t understand, and then I heard his footsteps as he walked away. Meanwhile, sniffles and sobs emanated from within the room.
Lost amongst all of the confusion was any mention of the name my mother had mentioned while busy pleasuring herself. It was the same name of a person, who until some moments ago, I had convinced myself to see in a new light. While he hadn’t directly caused any of these incidents, the sterling image of him grew tarnished and I found myself once again detesting him.
I crawled back into bed. “Marcus….” I whispered dejectedly. I closed my eyes and drifted to sleep.
A growling pain in the vicinity of my stomach awakened me. As lay clutching my abdomen a warm sensation tingled within my rectum, followed by tepid air erupting out of my anus, accompanied by a strong and intense sound.
“Prrrttrrrtt…. Damn Mexican food!” I cursed under my breath after accidentally inhaling some of the foul-smelling gas. Now I had one more good reason to hate Crabbe, the horny sex-freak who’d delivered the food last night.
After stretching my arms and yawning, I looked at the clock on my phone: 7 am, time for me to eat breakfast and prepare for school. I stood up and walked out of my room…
The familiar smell of crisp bacon and fried eggs greeted my nostrils. It was refreshing compared to the revolting odor I had inhaled a few seconds ago. As I approached the kitchen, I saw that Mom was indeed cooking Dad’s favorite breakfast. But Dad was nowhere to be seen.
“Work,” she replied laconically, giving out no further details.
Must be regretting their fight last night, and wanted to make amends by cooking breakfast for him. But of course, he left early for work, I reasoned to myself. I watched her dish up the bacon and eggs from the skillet, and then signal me to come into the kitchen. “Here’s your breakfast, honey.”
I sat on a chair at the table as she handed me the plate. Just as I was about to dig in, my stomach grumbled again. It made me clench my tummy.
“What’s the matter, honey?” she said worryingly.
I gazed at her, mutely trying to send her signals that I was in distress and in no condition to answer. She just looked at me, uncomprehending, so I muttered, “Coño Caliente.”
She didn’t say anything more, but instead went straight to the casino oyna bathroom. When she returned, I noticed she had a small cylindrical container in her hand. She popped the lid open, and took a white tablet.
“Take this. It will make you feel better.”
Probably an antacid. I took her advice, swallowed it and then reached for a glass of water from the table.
“Better just stay at home today, honey.” She smiled. After that, she walked back again towards the bathroom.
Yeah… I guess.
(This is your 8 am wakie call from Hal!—)
I lay on the couch, watching some morning tv show called ‘Wakie from Hal’, having decided not to go to school today after all. I wasn’t really feeling well, and Mom had insisted. She had left about fifteen minutes ago, wearing a pink-and-black-striped tracksuit. When I had asked her where she was going, she’d answered, “I’m just going for a run in the park. I haven’t done so lately.”
“Why aren’t you going to the diner?” Why aren’t you going to work like you usually do around this time?
She’d frowned and averted her eyes. “Your father doesn’t want me to go to work at the diner anymore.” She looked quite sad as she left, and I felt I could understand why.
She’d told me that she really loved the work and had already made lots of friends there. But then again I could understand why Dad forbade her. Ever since Mom’s ‘incident’, he had been cautious, to the point of being overprotective, and this most likely irked her. I imagined they had argued heavily about his decision.
(Hi! I’m John Knockup. Welcome to WhackAss!”)
I was getting bored. I thought of going out, but ultimately decided not to; I couldn’t think of any place to go to. Besides, I was still reeling in from the effects of my upset stomach. Instead, I just took a nap.
“Honey, are you awake?”
“Wha—What?” I was suddenly awakened by my mother’s voice from the kitchen. I struggled as I tried to sit up, and felt dizzy. I took a few moments to get my bearings and then turned to face her.
“Can you pass me a beer, please?” Her request seemed highly unusual, as she was just a few steps away from the fridge. Also, the way she looked at me while leaning on the counter, her tongue curled toward her upper lip, seemed strange. I ignored the nagging thoughts in my head and settled on helping her out … perhaps she was just very tired from jogging.
“Here you go mu—Mom!” I dropped the beer: Mom was standing with her track pants and panties down to her ankles, while a naked, heavily-muscled black man sporting a thick and erect penis, had his face directly beneath her pussy. He lounged on the floor, with his back leaning against the counter.
“Careful with that beer, dog!” I watched Marcus jam two of his fingers into my mother’s opening, and drill them back and forth inside of her. He paused long enough to grab the beer can as it rolled across the floor toward him. After opening it, he started chugging down its contents.
“Come on darling, my pussy’s waiting.”
“Ooommppp … oommppp … let me finish this first, bitch.”
“Ooommppp … ooommmppp … ahhhh…. Hits the spot!”
I was stunned. I froze.
“Now, where was I?” Marcus tossed the beer can across the kitchen.
“I think you were on the part where you’re eating my pussy?”
“Oh, yeah … yeah … let me eat that fucker up.” He started gobbling on her cunt like it was some kind of pie. His long tongue pierced in and out, while his mouth nipped at the fleshy folds. At the same time, he probed her ass with a finger, wiggling it around inside.
“Ahh … god. You’re so fucking good, baby!”
“Schlurrp … glummp … nomnomm … nomnomm … schlurpp….”
“Oww … Yes! Yes! Eat my pussy!” Based on her expression and the sounds she was making, she was loving every second.
“Nomnom … schlurppp … glummpp—”
“Owww … fuck! Owww … fuck!”
Suddenly, Marcus halted.
“Wait—why did you stop?”
“I want another beer.”
“Oh,” she muttered, clearly upset. She eyed me, and pointed to the fridge.
“Can you get this stud some more beer, honey?”
“What?” I was startled out of my frozen reverie by her second casual request.
“Are you fucking deaf? Get me some beer, fool!” Marcus barked at me. His angry tone and fiery stare made me nervous. I took a step back.
“Honey, just get him some beer,” Mom chimed in.
“Get me my beer, Boner Kid!” he taunted me with my annoying moniker.
Things were getting ugly. My mother seemed curious, and asked, with a raised eyebrow, “Boner Kid?”
“Yeah, the little fucker always gets a boner. Just look.” Marcus pointed to the tiny bulge in my pants.
I hadn’t even sensed my erection until he’d specifically called attention to it. Even weirder, my canlı casino penis seemed miniscule when I moved it against the fabric. I decided to check it out, and dropped my pants down to my knees. What I saw freaked me out. My cock — if you could still call it that – looked to be about the size of an eyeball. My pubic hair also didn’t help, as it shrouded my dick making it even harder to see.
“Oh my! Is that really a cock? I can’t even see it.”
“It seems your pee-wee hasn’t even grown since the last time I saw it.”
My Mom then used her two fingers as if measuring with a very short ruler about two inches long, signifying the length of my dick. It made Marcus laugh so hard, he almost burst into tears.
I was embarrassed. I couldn’t believe my own Mom would tease me like that.
“Enough! Now go get me my beer, faggot!”
Oh, it was enough alright. I decided I couldn’t take any more of it, so I defiantly answered him.
“What did you say, fool?”
“No, I won’t.” I reiterated.
“I’m giving you one more chance. Go get me my BEER! Or else!”
“Or else what?” I rebutted, not afraid of his threat.
“Or else, I’ll lay the fuck out of you, Whack Ass style!”
“Whack Ass style?” Things were getting weirder and weirder by the second.
“That’s it, fool!”
‘Wham!!’ ‘Whush!’ A solid right punch hit me square on the nose, followed by a swift hook to the chin, and I fell to the ground.
“I’m sure that hit the spot!”
“Sorry about that darling, he’s kind of stupid sometimes.”
“Yeah, just like his father.”
He kicked me several times in my abdomen; blood spewed from my nose. All this time, my mother just watched. She hadn’t even tried to stop the thrashing of her son.
“Bluurrggh … cough.”
“I told you honey, you should have just given him his beer.”
“Pheww!” A kick in the face made me spit out one of my teeth. “Cough … cough … Arrgggh….” My right eye was now swollen shut. My breathing was also getting labored. Despite blurry vision, I saw Mom smiling devilishly at me. It was insane. She even seemed to be aroused by it, as she now began to play with her tits, and touch her own pussy.
“God, I’m getting horny, baby. Kiss me while you’re beating him?”
“Sure thing, girl.”
“Mmmm … mmm….”
“Mmmm … mmm….”
The last thing I witnessed before completely losing consciousness was my Mom French-kissing with Marcus, while giving his dick a hand job. While they shagged each other, they each grabbed the handle of a giant frying pan hanging from the beam in the ceiling, and proceeded to hit me on the head with it.
(Whack- Ass was brought to you by Golden Fountain.)
(Golden Fountain: It sure hits the spot!)
“Arrrggghh …” I groaned. My head throbbed as if it had been hit by a hammer. I massaged it, and opened my eyes. A ballerina figurine lay on its side, on the floor near the couch … it must have dropped on me while I was asleep.
(Up next: ETV Cribs—)
“Shit,” I muttered, and turned off the tv.
“hey boyfie how cum u werent @ skul today?” Amanda texted me.
“im sick girlfie. lolz”
“=( aw are you alright?”
“im fine now jst rstng”
“=) want me to cum visit?”
“nah im okay”
It had been a long time since a girl had been worried about me. Other than my Mom, of course. It was a great feeling.
“ill def b ther aftR this class. ^_^” she replied.
“Oh no!” I uttered. It wasn’t that I didn’t want her to come and visit me, but I just felt awkward about it. ‘I had diarrhea’, wasn’t exactly an ideal thing to say to say to people, let alone your girlfriend.
I heard a knock on the front door.
“James honey, are you there? “
“I’m coming, Mom!” I shouted. I opened the door to see saw her smiling widely, flashing her pearly white teeth.
“Hi honey.” She was beaming with joy as she passed through and headed into the kitchen. She grabbed a glass of water, and thirstily drank it. After gulping down the last mouthful, she placed the empty glass on the table, then she eyed me and smirked.
“What’s happening? You seem very happy.”
She didn’t answer but instead countered with a question of her own. “How come you haven’t told me that you were classmates with Marcus?”
“What?” I felt nervous.
“Marcus told me.”
“Marcus told you?” I repeated her words.
“Why, is there a problem?” She looked at me, confused.
Sounds of her lusting and spouting profanities filled my head, as I stared at her.
“God … that feels good, baby. There. Right there…”
“Ahh … fuck. I’m about to cum honey … just a little more….”
“Oww … Yes! Yes! Eat my pussy!”
“Fuck! I’m cumming baby! I’m cumming! I’m cumming, Marcus!”
“Hello, are you still there?” She waved her hand on my face, abruptly awakening me from my stupor.
“How….?” I blurted out.
“What kaçak casino do you mean, ‘how’?”
“… did it happen?” I followed.
She arched her eyebrow and paused to view me with wonderment before answering. “I was jogging at the park, when a car slowed up alongside me. I was startled when someone inside it called my name. It was Marcus.” She smiled. “We chatted, and then he invited me for lunch. I agreed. Next thing I knew, we were in the diner talking about you.”
“So basically, you had a date?” I quipped.
“Well, umm … you could say that….” She averted her eyes and tried to hide her discomfort. “Now my turn to ask the question, are you friends with him?”
I didn’t know what to say back that wouldn’t perturb her. I also didn’t want to lie, of course. After quick but careful deliberation, I decided to just tell her the truth. “No, I’m not friends with him.”
As predicted, she was upset. “How come?” She frowned at me.
Well, let me see. First, because he’s asshole. Second, because he wants to bang you, I thought to myself.
She continued to gaze at me, waiting. She was a very persistent person, and I knew I wouldn’t be off the hook until I replied. So this time I made up an excuse. “We don’t have any thing in common.”
“Well, have you tried hanging out with him? Or maybe even just talk?”
“But … what?”
Jesus, Mom. She was really making it hard for me.
“We’re just not friends.”
“You should try to be, you know. He’s a good guy and—”
I was getting annoyed and didn’t want to carry on the conversation further, so I interrupted her. “I just don’t, okay?”
She stared at me, perplexed, and started to say something back, but decided not to push it.
‘Knock-knock … knock-nock … knock-knock….’
We both fell silent at the knocking sounds and eyed other, waiting for someone to make the first move. After a few more knocks, I decided I was going to be the one to do so. It must be Amanda. I walked over and opened the door.
“Hi boyfie!” she yelled with delight, and then gave me a hug and a peck on the cheek. She was wearing a black sweater, with pink and white stripes and a logo of a pink cat winking and flipping the bird. For her bottoms, she wore form-fitting black jeans, with a black leather belt from which lots of silver studs and chains hung down.
“I thought no one was home. “
“I was talking to Mom. I didn’t hear you knocking at first,” I lied as I led her inside.
“Oh hello, dear.” Mom turned to me and mouthed,, “I’ll just be in my room.” She still looked upset, but didn’t say anything more as she walked away.
Amanda noticed this, “Is something wrong with you guys?”
“No, why?” I tried to act nonchalant, but it seemed she’d already caught on. She arched an eyebrow at me. Part of me wanted to tell her, but another part was holding me back. I decided though to just avert the conversation. “Let’s go to my room.”
As we lay on the bed side-by-side, she gently continued. “I can tell something really is bothering you. Are you still sick?” Her cute puppy-dog eyes revealed that she was worried about me. It was sweet.
“No, I’m alright.”
She grabbed my arm and wrapped it around her body, nestling into my side and resting her head on my shoulder. I could smell the refreshing scent of strawberries on her hair. It was intoxicating. I played with her ponytail, twirling it in my fingers, which made her giggle. I felt comfortable around her, and decided to open up. “It’s about one of my classmates… “
“What…? Who…?” She moved her head to gaze up at me, confused.
“Oh yeah, I forgot. I haven’t told you what happened to my Mom….”
After hearing the story, she seemed overwhelmed. Her hands had moved up to cover her mouth as she listened, and she seemed to be trying to digest the details. “Oh my god! I can’t believe it.”
I know. My sentiments,exactly,
We sat up on the side of the bed, at which point she laid her hands on top of mine where they rested on the covers. “So that was what … was bothering you?” She gazed directly into my eyes.
“Oh my god! Like, don’t tell me … it’s Marcus?” she questioned adroitly. It was more of a statement; she knew she had guessed correctly.
“Ssshhh … not so loud.” I covered her mouth with my palm, feeling nervous that Mom might have heard her. She started giggling not long after I lifted my palm away.
“Seriously? Geesh, you are afraid that Marcus and your Mom might have a thing for each other?”
“Well … yeah.” I answered back, feeling embarrassed. I lowered my eyes and gazed down at the floor.
“Boyfie, I’m telling you right now. You are ridiculous. Your Mom is not that kind of woman.” She lifted my chin up, and made me turn toward her.
“I know, but….” I muttered, recalling the moments my mother had mentioned Marcus’s name while pleasuring herself.
“Fuck! I’m cumming baby! I’m cumming! I’m cumming, Marcus!”
I couldn’t disclose this to Amanda, no matter how much I pushed myself. But bottling it all up was starting to take its toll on me. It seemed that she sensed my distress, as she planted a soft kiss on my lips.
Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00353 515 73 20