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Wow! The first story actually did better than I expected. I want to thank everyone who commented and rated it, I appreciate that.
Yeah, I guess I do need someone to proof-read my stories, but I haven’t told a soul I write erotica, so it’s going to be hard. Editors usually take too long cutting and editing a story, so the time between posting chapters of a story becomes longer.
I’ll try to get an editor for my other works, but I’ll be working alone until I post the last chapter of this story, so please endure. I’ll try my best to improve.
I apologise for the slow upload of this chapter, I share my laptop with an older brother writing his masters, so I barely get to use, again sorry.
All the characters in this story are 18 years or older. All the characters are fictional, like this story.
One week after witnessing my mother having torrid sex with my dad’s co-worker, it was still all I could think about; of course the fact that I watched and masturbated to the video I recorded of the act every chance I got didn’t help me forget.
I felt intensely aroused while masturbating to images of my mother being a slut onscreen, disgusted with myself for being such a pervert afterwards, then angry at my mum for being such a whore after the self loathing passed. Unlike most boys who worshiped their mothers, I detested mine, of course she deserved my resentment.
Growing up, our house was divided. My dad favoured me and mum favoured my sis. At an early age I knew to avoid my mother like the plague, this was difficult though; seeing as how we lived in the same house and all.
Her apparent disdain for me only pushed me closer to dad though. I worshiped the man, still do. He was exactly who I wanted to grow up to become. He thought me how to throw a football, even though he absolutely hated the sport, because that was what good fathers did.
He thought me how to ride a bike. With his actions he thought me what it meant to be a man. If there was one thing I admired most about Douglas Brennan, it was the way he treated others. A man of his stature could’ve easily been a bully, but he treated everyone with respect; most especially his wife, my mother.
This is why it was so infuriating to watch her treat him like crap. She insulted him every chance she got. She never acknowledged it when he did anything right, but was quick to scold him when he did anything wrong, and all through this he always kept his cool.
For as long as I can remember I’ve wanted to make her pay; not only for my father’s sake, but for mine as well. I wanted to punish her in some way, to make her feel as worthless as she made me feel. To degrade her, drive her to the point of committing suicide. Is that going too far? That’s hardly far enough.
From the way I’ve described her, one would imagine an ice queen, someone incapable of human emotion, but that wasn’t my mum; I know because of how she treated my sister. No, my mum was capable of love, so much love, she just wasn’t capable of showing me and dad love.
It was the way mum treated baby sis that drove me to seek her affection at first, but at an early age of nine it became painfully obvious that she would never treat me the same. I know a lot of you have heard the saying ‘it’s a fine line between love and hate’, but not a lot of you truly understood it. Well I did, I understood it so well. I think I hated my mother as fiercely as I did because I loved her just as fiercely once.
Well after dreaming of the billion ways I could ruin her, finally I had the means to do so in my hands. All I needed to do was to play my cards right. I knew I had something that could damage her reputation, but I wanted to do more than damage her reputation, I wanted to ruin her. Besides, sex-tapes were common occurrence in America.
I briefly considered showing the video to my dad, but that wouldn’t have achieved my goals either. Dad could be a shark when he needed to be, but when it came to mum he was extremely gentle. I knew if I showed him the tape with no proof that the affair had been going on while they were still together, it would be of little use to him. The only thing I could do with it was use it to blackmail mum; naturally.
I was scared though, mum was a smart woman, what if she didn’t fall for it. Blackmailing her with just this video was a gamble, I needed more damning evidence. So I got on my computer and did a quick search of private detectives in the area, I got the contact number for a P.I firm closest to my location. esenyurt anal yapan escort I called and made an appointment for 2 PM the next day.
Satisfied with what I had done so far, I got up, locked the door to my room. I got on my bed, lying on my back; I pulled down my pants and proceeded to rub one out. I shut my eyes and conjured the image of my naked mum.
She stood there in front of me naked, her left hand cupping her tit while her right hand slowly massaged her pubic mound. She was so wet her pussy juice flowed down her thighs. Her hand slowly slid down her body until she was slowly stroking her pussy.
She slid one finger inside her pussy and moaned; she removed the finger and brought it to her mouth and sucked it. Then she inserted the finger into her pussy again, this time when she removed the finger, she used it to smear her pussy juice all over her nipple.
She pinched her nipple lightly and moaned. Then she returned her hand to her pussy again, this time she plunged three fingers into her pussy, “Oh god—that’s so good,” she said in a low husky voice.
“I think I’m wet enough now baby, come fuck me,” she said as she turned around and got on all fours, leaning her upper body down and arching her ass upward. It was at that point I let go and spewed my semen all over my stomach, some even got as far as my chest. Suffice to say it was a very satisfactory orgasm.
After cleaning myself, I went to the living room to catch up on some of the programmes I’d recorded on the DVR. Somehow the masturbatory frenzy I’d been in all week was all gone once I’d decided what to do with the video of mum fucking dad’s co-worker.
I spent two hours watching episodes of Grey’s Anatomy season 11 before I felt hungry. Walking to the kitchen and finding the fridge empty, I went to my room, got my phone and ordered for pizza. It took about 15 minutes before the pizza was delivered, and another 14 for me to finish the whole thing.
An hour later I’d finished watching the last recorded programme. I deleted all my programmes, then browsed through the channels to see if there was anything interesting showing; there wasn’t, so I switched off the TV and decided to go to bed at only around 8:49 PM.
I guess I hadn’t slept well all week, because as soon as I flopped on my bed, I dozed off. I didn’t even turn off the lights. And unlike previous nights, I didn’t dream of my mum. I slept so soundly in fact that I didn’t wake up until early noon the next day.
By the time I finished brushing and left my room, dad had already left for work. Checking the time and seeing that it was around 1:09 PM, I rushed to the bathroom to take a shower. I was ready by 1:39 and on my way to Booth and co.
The office was not what I expected; although to be honest I didn’t know what I expected. It looked like an apartment building from the outside, going to about 14 storeys high. The offices of Booth and company were at the 7th floor.
The elevator door dinged and opened, and I was greeted by a long hallway at the end of which was a desk I could only imagine belonged to the receptionist. On both sides of the wall were doors, walking to the desk, I counted 6 doors on either sides.
The receptionist was an old wrinkled blonde woman; she looked to be in her late forties. She was lean, and tall, although not as tall as me, there were very few women as tall as me. She wore a grey suit, grey skirt that went just a few inches below her knees. She smelled of cigarettes.
“Good afternoon, welcome to Booth and co. How may I help you?” She asked in a throaty voice.
“Good afternoon, I’m Michael Brennan, I have an appointment for 2 O’clock,” I answered.
She looked at the screen of the computer sitting on her desk, scrolled through what I had no doubt was a list of names, “Oh, yes Michael Brennan. You have an appointment with detective Carter. He’s attending to someone else right now because you came a little late, but if you’re willing to wait a while, I’m sure he’ll be done soon,” she said.
She pointed to a few couches arranged along the wall, and taking a hint, I went to sit down. After about 17 minutes she called me and took me to the forth door on the right. She opened the door, put her head inside and said, “Mr. Brennan is here now.”
“Bring him in,” a deep manly voice answered.
Just hearing the voice, I imagined a man as big as Hulk Hogan; boy was I wrong. As I entered the office, Mr. Carter got esenyurt escort up to shake my hand. He was a short man in his mid forties I’d guess; he had bald hair and a prominent nose. But his eyes, his eyes looked like that of an intelligent man.
“So what can I do for you Mr. Brennan?” he asked once we both sat down.
“Well, I want to investigate my mum. She and my dad are in the process of getting a divorce. Last week Saturday I caught her sleeping with my dad’s co-worker, she said she never cheated on my dad, but I know that’s a lie. The affair, I want to know how long it’s been going on, and if there’s been other men,” I answered with a type of calmness I really wasn’t feeling.
The P.I smiled, as if he knew something. Part of me wondered if he had already guessed what I would do with the evidence once I got it; his next question only worried me more. “And what do you plan to do with this evidence once you get it?” he asked.
“Do you really need to know?” I shot back a little too defensively.
His smile became broader, “I suppose not, I was just curious. Nevertheless, I will need your mother’s name,” he answered.
“Maria Brennan,” I answered, relieved that he had relented. He wrote the name down on a small piece of paper.
“Usually we charge $200 upfront, but seeing as how you’re a kid and all, you can give Miss Kelly $150 on your way out. I’ll contact you once I’m done, do have a nice day Mr. Brennan.”
Although I knew he was trying to be nice, and he was doing me a favour; I hated the fact that he called me a kid. I was nineteen, no longer a kid. I stopped being a kid at the age of nine, it was at that age my mum stroke me the first time.
I left the office, dropped my contact details at Miss Kelly’s desk, paid and left after bidding her goodbye. It’s wasn’t till around 4 PM that I got home. To my surprise dad was already home, he was at the living room watching business news when I entered the apartment.
“Hey dad, sorry I missed you this morning,” I said to him on my way to the couch.
“Yeah, you were fast asleep when I left, I didn’t want to wake you. It was nice to see you resting, you’ve been looking worn all week,” he said patting my shoulder.
“Yeah, I guess I’ve been a little stressed.”
“Anything you want to talk about?” he asked.
“No. I’ve got it under control dad,” I replied with a smile.
There was a hint of doubt in his eyes as he replied, “Okay, but if you ever need anything, you know I’m here for you.”
“I know dad. God I’m starving, I haven’t ate anything since I woke up,” I said, eager to change the subject. Not that I wasn’t starving, I was completely famished.
“Yeah, I made macaroni and cheese, there’s some leftover in the fridge,” he said, nodding towards the kitchen.
“Okay, thanks dad. I’m going to eat, then catch up on some light reading and go to sleep,” I said already halfway to the kitchen.
“Alright son, just don’t forget to turn off your light before you fall asleep,” he said with a hint of laughter in his voice.
“I won’t,” I said with a mouthful of macaroni. Dad learned to cook after he got married to mum, even though he worked pretty late, dad was the one who cooked dinner for us most nights because mum usually had one work related event or another to attend.
At about 9 PM I went to sleep feeling incredibly happy about the way things were going. With any luck I was going to have damning evidence against mum by next week, but until then, I was going to bluff her with the one I had right now.
Tomorrow was a Saturday, perfect day to start my blackmail; after all this all started on a Saturday. I stayed up planning how I would go about blackmailing mum until around 10:30 PM. Finally I couldn’t fight off the drowsiness, and so I gave in. Unlike the previous night, I was plagued with a steamy dream of my mother submitting to me.
She was kneeling in front of me, in my dream I couldn’t clearly make out her features, but she did have huge tits that hung high on her chest and a prominent nipple, that much I could tell.
She had a nipple ring on both her nipples, and one on her clit too. A chain connected the two nipple rings and her clit ring. A rope was attached to the chain so that one could pull to either give her pain or pleasure. I had this rope in my left hand.
With my right hand, I fed her my cock. She slowly licked the underside of my cock, she had to crane her neck since her hands were tied behind her, esenyurt eve gelen escort and the sensation of her tongue slowly licking up and down the underside of my cock was exquisite.
“You’re such a whore aren’t you; you’ll do anything to have a cock to play with wouldn’t you?” I found myself saying to her.
She stopped her ministrations to answer, “Yes, I’m my son’s whore. I’ll do anything to play with my son’s lovely cock.”
Releasing my cock, I grabbed her hair and pulled her head forward, impaling her mouth with my cock. I proceeded to fuck her face just like I had seen that bastard Josh doing, but since I was a lot bigger than he was, she gagged. Finally taking pity on her, I pulled out.
Her eyes were teary, her mascara was smudged and she was coughing and spitting. My hand was still grabbing her hair, and when I felt she’d rested enough I plunged my cock in her mouth again. While I fucked mum’s face, I pulled the rope in my left hand with varying force, causing her to moan and whimper around my cock.
“You like being molested, don’t you, you cheap whore,” I groaned, staring down at the dishevelled face of my mother impaled on my cock.
She shook her head from side to side forcefully, trying to break my hold on her I guess. I pulled my cock out of her mouth and slapped her across the face. Then I pulled the rope with just enough force to cause her immense pain, causing her to scream.
With tears running down her face, she looked up at me and pleaded, “Mike please, no more. Please I can’t take anymore,” she said.
I slapped her again, getting off on the amount of control I had over her. “What’s wrong, didn’t you just say you’d do anything to play with your son’s dick?” I asked sarcastically. Not waiting for her reply, I plunged my cock into her mouth again.
I fucked her face for a few more minutes before I felt the urge to cum, removing my cock from her mouth, I released her hair and stroked my cock fast until I erupted on her face. A few spurts landed on her hair, a few landed on her closed lids, and some landed on her chin, slowly dribbling down to her tits.
I pushed her back, and she spread her legs wide open for me, giving me an unobstructed view of her pussy; although in my dream I couldn’t make out the detail. One thing was certain though, she was dripping wet.
Kneeling between her parted thighs, I inserted my middle finger into her pussy. I jiggled it around until it came into contact with her G-spot, extracting a loud moan from her. I added another finger, then another, then proceeded to fuck her violently with my fingers.
Mum was screaming, the nasty talk just rolling off her tongue. “Yes, molest that cunt you dirty son of a bitch. You really are, because I am a bitch, a bitch who wants to cum so bad.”
I removed my fingers from her pussy, causing her to whine. Then I grabbed the rope which I had dropped at some point and yanked. Mum screamed. I relented, and then yanked again. I did this a couple of more times, then plunged four of my fingers into her pussy again.
“God I’m so close baby—make mommy cum. Go on you son of a bitch, make your mother cum on your fucking fingers,” she yelled at the top of her lungs.
I felt her pussy contract around my fingers and knew she was close, wanting to delay her relief for as long as possible, I pulled my finger out of her pussy. My fingers were coated in her juice. There I was kneeling between my mum’s spread thighs, her extremely wet pussy daring me to fuck it. My cock was already hard again, so I took it in my hand and brought it to her pussy.
My cockhead speared through her pussy lips, causing both of us to moan. Mum hissed a silent “yes” as my cockhead entered her. The feeling of her warm, wet, tight pussy wrapped around my cockhead was exquisite. It took great effort to not cum right then. Just as I was about to plunge my whole cock inside her, the alarm beside my bed went off.
Waking up, I found my cock painfully erect, my sheets wet with my perspiration. Lying there on my back in that wet mess, I proceeded to jerk off while the memory of my latest dream was fresh in my mind.
It made me weirdly happy to think of dominating mum like I had done in the dream, I felt no guilt or shame for thinking that way, and that freaked me out a little to be honest.
I’ll start working on part three immediately. I’m sorry if the sex in this story was too short, obviously I’m still just a novice in the art of writing erotica, but even so, I do hope you’ve enjoyed the story thus far.
I share my computer with my older brother who’s doing his masters, so I get very little time to use it. I’m telling you this so that you’ll understand why there may be delays in releasing the next part. I do hope that doesn’t discourage you and you return for the third part of this story. Thank you.
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