#mom cuckold

The Ties That Bind

Something happens to you when you see your mom’s ass naked for the first time.

If you didn’t want to see her ass getting fucked, then after seeing it naked you will, and if you did want to see her get fucked, seeing her ass naked will only make that urge stronger.

You were lucky that on the night you-know-what happened, you had just seen your mom’s ass by accident that morning when you walked into her room. She thought nothing of it. But you had been blown to pieces on the inside and reassembled as a new man.

That’s why that night when you saw that creepy looking guy slip something into your mom’s diet coke, you did everything you could to help him get away with it. Your mom’s naked ass was fresh in your mind, and you could imagine all the fun he could have with it. Instead of lacking in empathy, and not seeing things through his eyes, like most people would, you were able to put yourself in his shoes and root for him.

Nobody had the right to take your mom’s ass from him now. Not even you. Not even your mom. When your brother screamed across the bar after seeing that weird man carrying your drugged mom out with him in his arms, you cringed knowing that your plan to distract him and your dad by suggesting they play pool on the other end of the bar had failed.

The bouncers, hearing the screaming and seeing the pointing, held the man with your mom at the door as your dad and brother rushed over there. You trailed behind anxiously. You were all pulled aside into a side room. Your dad and brother pulled out their wallets on the way, eager to show the bouncers that they shared the same last name with your mom.

When the bouncer got you all in the room, your mom still in the man’s arms, much to your dad and brother’s dismay, he asked you all for ID. Another bouncer came in the room with your mom’s purse as your dad and brother showed their cards. The man was sweating and looked pale. Your dad and brother looked over at him as if to say “we got you now, cocksucker.” You felt angry at your dad and brother for their arrogance. Everything about them made you angry right now.

The second bouncer looked through her purse. “I don’t see a wallet here.”

Your dad interjected, “Some kid out there must have stole it.”

Your brother piped in impatiently, “She has her name on her phone!”

“I don’t see a phone in here either.”

Your dad: “Oh for Christ’s sake!”

The look of terror lifted slightly from the man’s face.

The bouncers could see that you were all related by your ID. He asked how and your dad said “I’m their father!” pointing at you, and “That’s my wife!” as he pointed at your mom whose head was rolling backward.”

“How do you know her?” The bouncer asked the weird man.

He stuttered. “She’s my wife. These guys had their hands all over her. I saw it when I came out of the washroom. I’m trying to get her out of here. I don’t know what kind of sick place this is that lets predators walk in here and take advantage of their patrons drunk off the alcohol they sold them and they try to stop ME, her husband whose trying to save her fro-”

The bouncer interrupted him. “Is this your mom?” he asked your brother.

“Yes, I already said that!”

You could feel your heart beating a million miles a second as the bouncer redirected his gaze to you.

“Is this your mother?”

You looked at him. You could feel the eyes of your family, sure and confident waiting for your inevitable and predictable answer on your left. You could feel the eyes of that strange man looking like the eyes of a cornered rat, as the half-open eyes of your mom looked like nothing at all on your right.

You looked over at your mom, vulnerable and ready. In the right place at the right time to have her drink spiked. In the wrong place at the wrong time to be stopped before being carried out the door. Her ass drooped down between his arms. You wished you could snap your fingers and have him disappear and reappear outside with her in his arms, but you couldn’t. That wasn’t the world you lived in. The real world took sacrifice to make anything great happen.

You looked at your mom for one last time that night, then you looked at the bouncer. “I’ve never seen this woman before in my life.”

“WHAT!”is what you heard next to you. So sudden and so loud that you couldn’t tell if it was your dad or your brother who said it.

The weird man to your right was visibly smiling. You could see it from the corner of your eye.

You continued: “I told my dad and brother to stop groping her but they wouldn’t listen. They wanted to take her home with them because mom is out on vacation. I told them it was wrong!”

“He’s lying! What the hell is wrong with you!’ He grabbed you by your neck and your brother started for you when the two bouncers grabbed the three of you and separated you. Your dad and brother’s faces were red with rage. Spit spilled from their lips in strings as they screamed at you “You fuck! You sick fuck! What are you doing!”

You looked them both straight in their eyes and yelled “I’m telling mom what you guys tried to do when she gets home! I can’t believe you two! You-” and that’s when the tears started to spill from your eyes. It was all your pent up frustration at them for trying to ruin this guy’s chance at fucking your mom, but it lent a huge dose of credibility to your story.

Your dad and brother came across as persecutors rather than victims, and they stayed that way as they screamed at you with their deep voices, until the man was apologized to and sent on his way with your mom in his arms. That’s when your dad and brother’s tears started to flow. They fought and pushed and kicked back against the bouncers arms, and all it accomplished was more bouncer running into the room to restrain the three of you. The two giant men holding you made you confident enough to make a show of righteous anger against your family by trying, unsuccessfully, to lunge at them. You were accomplishing nothing but making the bouncers sure that you had real reason to be mad at them. That they actually were trying to take home a drunk stranger to enjoy.

You were all taken outside into the night air and you were held near the wall, as you watched your mom being carried to a Chevette, placed in its back seat, and driven away into the chaos of the city with that smug, satisfied, relieved, smiling face behind the wheel. Your dad and brother screamed and cried and tore at their clothes, but they didn’t fight back. All their energy was gone. They knew that they had dug themselves too deep into the coil of a Chinese finger trap, and all effort to get out would wrap it around themselves harder. They learned in that moment how to be helpless, but they would never learn how to not care.

It was the same pain that weird man would have had if he was successfully stopped last second from taking your mom home with him tonight. Your dad and brother finally knew the horror and pain they almost visited on him. But as you looked at them with contempt, you knew that they wouldn’t understand or make the connection.

You could still hear his car ripping down the streets and you were imagining your moms ass jiggling about with each turn and pull of the hand-brake. It probably looked like jello. He was going to have fun digging in.

You didn’t want to count your chickens before they hatched, so you listened as the car grew more distant. Even though your brother and dad were on the ground wailing over the fate of your mom’s ass, you never knew if they’d discover one last moment of decisiveness and tenacity. But as the car engine and brakes grew more distance, your worry subsided with it. Until finally, you heard nothing.

And the stillness of the chilly night mirrored the stillness of your soul. You had nothing left to worry about any more. You could finally celebrate.

Your mom’s ass would be getting it soon. And that was all that mattered. And for every ounce of respect and love you lost for your dad and brother, it was two ounces of pride you gained in yourself, and 10 pounds of gratefulness you had for being the son of your mom.

Ironically, your mom would be the only one able to forgive you. A mother’s love was unconditional and unbreakable. You were proud of yourself knowing that tonight you proved that your impulse to do the right thing was just as strong.

Your mom woke up in a strange house, cold, and naked, with her ass wet with cum.

“Where am I?” she thought.

The sensation of terror filled her as her awareness started to grow.

Suddenly, she heard a door open. Then footsteps. She closed her eyes. The blackness grew twice as dark as the footsteps stopped right next to her. She was aware that someone was standing there, looking down at her. She didn’t dare move.

Suddenly she felt something on her ass. A wet cloth. Her ass was now clean. The cushion creaked and was pulled downward as the man put one knee on it. Then another. Your mom’s body jiggled around with the drooping cushions.

Suddenly, she felt the man getting closer. Then something on her vagina. It was just touching it. And all of a sudden it was inside. He was going in for seconds.

Your mom held her eyes tight as the strange penis went back and forth inside of her. She wanted to get up and run, but she was too afraid. She had nobody there to protect her, and she figured that nobody knew where she was. She was right.

And for the next two hours she just kept still with her eyes clamped shut, receiving that penis in every hole.

When you accidentally burst into her room that morning (or yesterday morning to be exact) she thought nothing of it. Little did she know it would end up with her being here, literally tasting a cock as it danced back and forth inside her mouth and cheeks as his balls slapped against her chin.

The thought that kept coming back to her was how worried you, your brother and dad must be. Little did she know she was only 2/3rds right. And that’s only because your dad and brother only loved your mom 2/3rds as much as you did. And this was what love looked like. Never mind felt and tasted like.

It Takes A Village III (Conspiracy)

It was a setup from the very start. Your late father’s cousin wasn’t going to be at her house. She had been gone for a week, leaving only her husband to entertain you and your mom.

He never informed your mom that he owned a pool, and when she asked if there were any beaches nearby, he said no. So she never ended up bringing a bathing suit. Instead he offered her his wife’s one and only bathing suit.

You knew that he was lying when you were searching through his bedroom for the panties and maybe some nice pictures of your dad’s cousin. All you found was a drawer hastily stuffed full of women’s bathing suits on top of batteries and watch parts.

Those bathing suits were so modest and conservative compared to the bathing suit he handed your mom, which he had to hastily rip the tag subtly before handing it to her.

This all happened just in time for the pool party, in which members of your dad’s near and distant family were to show up. Family members he spent his life avoiding and only occasionally came into contact with through his cousin, whom he trusted and loved very much.

Your dad trusted her so much that his trust even extended to her husband, who he used to go hunting with every second year when you visited. This trust was apparently misplaced, as you learned when you searched through his laptop for compromising images of your dad’s cousin and found them in the form of hidden camera footage of her changing in their room attached to e-mails that were sent to members of a local motorcycle gang and real estate developers.

You were unsure of whether he was sharing his wife’s naked body because he was being blackmailed, to gain favors from powerful people, or because he enjoyed it. Eventually, though scouring through his e-mails, you realized that it was all three. Maybe he had more than three reasons.

You downloaded all the footage of your mom’s cousin onto your flashdrive and you were eager to post them to pornhub when you got home

As for your mom, you knew something was planned for her.

He had hidden camera footage of every female on your dad’s side of the family, from ages 20 to 80. Your dad’s mother was even caught naked in their bathroom. There wasn’t one square inch of female flesh in your dad’s family that hadn’t been exposed. And there wasn’t one real estate mogul or gang member on that mailing list who hadn’t been sent all of those videos.

But there wasn’t one reference of your mom anywhere to be found. You found that hard to believe. Because in terms of getting favors, getting pleasure, or getting out of trouble, your mom was the best bargaining chip there conceivably could be. You searched his e-mails while he was out and you found one of his them, a very recent one, sent to a local real estate developer, about a person they referred to as The Human Ass.

He said he bought a special uniform for her ass to munch on and he gloated in the fact that this mystery woman was known for being dry when it came to alcohol. But he had a fridge full of “non-alcoholic beer” that had its contents replaced. And that was all he’d have to drink for his guests who weren’t used to imbibing, or well adapted to the effects of imbibing, liquor.

He said that there’d only be one obstacle in the way. And if that obstacle wasn’t also drunk by the time zero hour came, then at least they’d have a pool area full of motorcycle enthusiasts with criminal records to iron out the loose edges.

These were an exciting turn of events, and the nagging thought that The Human Ass and The Obstacle weren’t who you thought they were was a dark and upsetting thought to entertain. But you’d find out when the guests got there the next day. And when your mom asked for a drink.

When the guests starting showing up, they were already very impressed with your mom fully clothed. They became even more impressed when she ridded herself of her oppressive jeans. She grimaced with each sip from the bottle labeled “zero alcohol content.” It soon became clear to you, and maybe even to her, that she was the only female body there. A sausage party but for one bun.

But what a bun.

Many people, including the host, did their best to keep you distracted and drinking. The stupid stories, and unfunny jokes from the clean shaven men, and the slaps on your back and slightly physical attempts and quartering you off from even seeing your mom, were starting to become a little much. You headed back inside and went to the washroom. From there you could see all the action in the backyard from a near bird’s-eye-view.

It didn’t take long for the professional men to start getting close to her and talking to her with a sly look on their faces with their hands on the small of her back. But in an even shorter time after that the rougher looking men elbowed their way in to the swarm and began pawing at your mom’s skin. Picking up her legs by the thigh and caressing them, pinching at her ass, and fingering at the thin strap of her bathing suit as she put up a a fair deal of resistance.

A few times the strap was pulled completely off her butt crack and to the side. She had been lifted completely off her feet and was in the middle of a miniature sized crowd surf. The motorcycle gang on the inside had her ass, thighs stomach, and lower back to play with. The Real Estate tycoons had her calves, and feet and chest, neck, face and hair. Your dad’s cousin’s husband was off a few feet to the side openly playing with his hard dick.

You were doing the same, wondering if your MMORPG friends have ever seen anything like this. Only one of them, the alpha male of your clan, could lay claim to seeing a real naked woman when he spied on his auntie through a hole between his room and hers and watched her boyfriend have sex with her. You tried to contain your excitement at how much envy they’d have for you now. You’ve just become the new alpha wolf of your crew. The old alpha would be so angry. There was no way he could top this.

Your thoughts were broken by a satisfying snap sound. Your mom’s bikini was broken and on the ground. It was shocking how little space it took up. The Human Ass was going to be munching on something a little bit thicker than string now.

The host sat on his lawn chair naked, stroking his hard cock, and he had a look of relief, ambition and arousal all at once. His wife’s cousin’s wife’s body was now surrounded by cocks that were jostling with each other like piranhas to get inside it through its mouth or its pussy or its asshole. If they couldn’t get inside, then they’d hump around the holes.

It was clear looking at the host that all his debts were now paid, he’d be a huge mover and shaker in the world of real estate, and he had finally reached that sexual itch he wanted scratched for years.

When the mob of professionals and criminals finished their goal of extracting all pleasure and fantasy they could from your mom’s body, they all left, leaving you, your uncle, and your mom as the only ones there. You forgot how silent things could be. Your dad’s cousin’s husband grabbed his hose and sprayed your mom’s body up and down, flipped her over, and sprayed her off on the other side. Her ass jiggled as the stream of water pushed at it.

He opened up her ass cheeks and sprayed them out too and then he inserted the hose in her pussy and mouth as well. He took your naked, clean mom with him into the house and you listened as he dragged her past the bathroom door into his room with him and you listened to him moan as his flesh slapped wonderfully with your mom’s. You went back to your room and listened from there. When he was done with her, he opened up your room door and placed your mom’s naked body in bed with you as you pretended to be sleeping.

You spent the rest of the night using your mom’s body to masturbate in interesting ways. Her ass cheeks were especially effective for this. You came between her two cheeks and you left her like that. So that she would know that at least one person at that party had fun with her and she’d be too embarrassed to ask who it was. It could’ve been anyone. Or everyone. But why would she have any reason to guess that?

You heard him in his office, click-clacking away. And then in a few hours, at around sunrise, he had left the house. You left your mom in your bed and went over to his computer, to see what he was doing and you were surprised to see a folder up with one file in the very middle of it titled “To The Obstacle.”

You clicked on it and your face turned a deep red as you as you saw yourself, sitting in the very spot you were sitting now, only a few days ago, looking through e-mail after e-mail. Then it cut to footage of your mom removing her pants by the pool yesterday afternoon. Then it cut to her being lifted in the air, then her being fucked by a forest of cocks. Then to you in the bathroom watching through the window and jerking off.

Then to you in your room pressing your mom’s ass cheeks around your cock and humping away. Then to your dad’s mom, naked in the washroom changing. Then to her being ravaged by a line of men on the living room couch. Then her in his bed being fucked by him. Then your dad’s niece changing in her room, then her being spit roasted in the basement over the pool table, and finally her in his room being fucked in her face. The same with your dad’s cousin and his sister. Same pattern: changing, being gang banged, and being fucked personally by him in his bed. Every woman in your family, every woman your dad loved, had been passed around and then fucked by this man. All of them except one. At least until yesterday.

Your mom changed into what she thought was your dad’s cousin’s bathing suit behind the bar. There were cameras everywhere in this house. You couldn’t escape them. Then your mom being ravaged by the pool. Then your mom with her ass up on his bed. Her wedding ring in his hand, then up her asshole, then removed, and then he pulled out a ring that looked exactly the same, placing it on her finger, and placing the ring your father first slid onto her extended hand in front of the smiling women of his family and hers, inside a box on his counter.

Then an e-mail screen came up. And you watched as the cursor attached a file called “Complete Cuck Target Beta Tango Foxtrot: All bogies down.” And in his address field was the head of the Federal Reserve, the secretary of state, and the president of the United States. And in the e-mail he wrote “Footage of target being neutralized by “accident” and all female friendlies being violated.” Then he deleted all of it and wrote “That’s civilian speak for you, Obstacle,” deleted that and retyped instead “Code Blue: Extreme Prejudice: 98% A1776F9.” He circled the cursor multiple times around the send button, mocking you. Finally, he clicked it.

The screen went black, then white text appeared on the screen. “Sorry about papa. But somebody has to take care of this nation’s enemies. But I guess I don’t have to apologize for what we did to your mom yesterday. You seemed to enjoy it.” Footage of you jerking off in the washroom replayed for a second. Then back to black. “Just be happy that your family will be the best example to deter more do-gooders from trying to blow the whistle on those who keep this world safe. You’ll be the last person I talk to in this life. There’s a young woman a thousand miles from here whose daddy stumbled onto the wrong military testing site. I need to get a head start on being that shoulder she can cry on before she loses her dad to a freak accident nobody saw coming. We call her The Human Tits.

“Play it cool, and you’ll never have to see me again. And don’t get any ambitious ideas. There’s plenty of ways to cuck yourself that don’t involve you going missing. All the camera footage is in a single file with the name of the first girl you had a crush on on it. Don’t ask how we know that. Do what you’d like with that footage. This video will self-destruct in 3. 2.”

You braced yourself against the office chair.

“1″ And the video closed and the file disappeared. A whimper, not a bang.

You stood in your doorway, and stared at your mom’s naked ass. You were even more enamored with it knowing that its fate was being decided as high up as the white house itself. And your dad’s gift for trying to be the hero was that the fate of his wife’s ass was no longer his to decide. It was nice and fitting as far aw you were concerned. You were already looking forward to life after your dad’s death and what that meant for your mom’s ass. But things had already escalated so quickly into something heavenly and gorgeous, like your mom’s ass.

You had no idea about what it was your dad risked his life and the safety of his family to blow the whistle about, but whatever it was, there was no way it was better than this. You were glad that bogie had been neutralized and there was nobody there to watch your mom’s 6.

The only one left was you, and you’d rather watch your mom’s 6 get pounded.

Epilogue

The little box sitting on the counter glowed with a subtle red ambience. Inside, the wedding ring sitting alone buzzed slightly and it flashed every half-second with that infrared light.

In an abandoned district in Siberia, underneath a dilapidated building, a team of 14 KGB personnel stand in the glow of 12 computer screens, each one with its own distinct bars and graphs representing things only they’re trained to understand.

“Agents Svetlanza’s vital signs are zero” says a female voice in Russian.

“Do you think she has been neutralized?”

An older gentlemen steps out from his shadow holding a lit cigar. “No,” he says confidently.

“Then why can we not pick her up?”

“Her ring is off.”

“But she gave no signal for its removal, Vokolov.”

“She didn’t expect to remove it,” he said before inhaling from his cigar.

“You mean…”

He exhaled and watched the smoke as he finished his new guy’s thought. “Somebody else removed it.”

“So they’re on to her?”

The wise old owl of the relatively young team shook his head. “No. If they were onto her they’d have put the ring on another’s finger to keep us in the dark.“ All but 6 of the personnel looked at him, eager for an explanation. He continued, “I told them when I first saw her 22 years ago that this would happen.”

One of the young men asked him, though still not understanding what happened, “and they didn’t listen?”

“No, they listened. They sent her, just as I suggested. We were all excited for it to happen. I didn’t think it would take 22 years. Dmitri would have been proud. We told her that mastering an American accent wasn’t enough, that she’d have to go clubbing for a few years to really understand American culture and fit in, but she was clearly uninterested and she found somebody to settle down and had children almost immediately.

“That’s why it took 22 years instead of months like we all thought it would. With her ‘assets’, she would have been the perfect mark in those clubs. American men strike quickly and we trained her specifically to be naive. She doesn’t even understand her own son and he’s dripping with the need to see exactly what we wanted to see. Now the day has arrived.”

The older men in the room nodded knowingly, each one bursting with a weird energy. A younger woman piped in “should we arrange for another ring?”

The man exhaled a cloud of smoke. “No. Our work here is done, comrades. We’ll wait for her next broadcast and tell her her mission was successful. It may have taken 22 years but it was worth every second, especially with this team. Agent Svetlana was the best our country had to offer. And America got her when she was at her prime. The ripe age of 40. Her ‘asset’ has only improved in these two decades. Let her live a normal life now. Ill miss her. She was like a daughter to me.”

He sighed deeply.

“We’ll be monitoring a new Svetlana tomorrow or the day after. Another young lady with big ‘assets’. Two of them actually. I’ve examined them myself and I’m eager to put them in the American field of action. We’ve trained her to accept drinks from strangers and to always leave her’s unguarded when she’s on the dance floor. And in case she fails in her mission, like Svetlana, she’s been modified on a genetic level to produce only male children with low testosterone who’ll crave for her to complete her mission without even knowing she’s on a mission. Just like Svetlana’s son. Lucky boy.”

The uninitiated sat there and stared at their Vokolov with his cigar blazing. This was the most naked glimpse into what their mission really was and still they didn’t understand. All the male personnel knew was that they would miss Agent Svetlana’s pretty face and the rare moments when they’d see her full profile in her video transmissions.

And most of all, the one time Volokov made her write a message in between her butt cheeks and had her silently stand naked in her video call and open her butt cheeks to show the message. The men were happy that protocol in that instance worked out so strongly in their favor. The fact that this mode of communication was dictated by Volokov for Christmas Day went right over the heads of the male personnel who were the receivers of this stocking stuffer.

Little did they understand that that measure, like everything having to do with Agent Svetlana, was a joke on her. All of this was. There was a reason every active KGB was a beautiful woman. All 332 of them. And there was a reason why they never knew what their mission was exactly or how to accomplish it, or any martial arts or espionage or basic common sense.

Only the higher ups knew what was going on. And they were currently enjoying the good news about their favorite field operative and the fate of her ‘assets’ right now. All of their best assets were in the West, the Middle East, or Africa. The entire country had its top tier females sent abroad for active duty. It was the largest and most sophisticated cucking operation in all the world. Russian tits and ass were being fondled, groped, and Russian pussies and mouths were being fucked, consciously or unconsciously in over 56 countries. It was as if Mother Russia herself was being groped, fondled, and ravaged.

And all across the intelligence agencies, those in the know could celebrate that the best representative that Russia had to offer had been pounded by American cock.

But you were oblivious to all of this, on the other side of the world, and you shot your second load between your mom’s ass cheeks. “I love you mom,” you said, as you lay down next to her under the covers and cuddled with her naked body up against yours.

The Shape

It didn’t take long for your mom to realize that there was something wrong with her pumpkin spiced latte. She shot up and ran to the kitchen window. Her friend, who hadn’t been able to drink as much of her’s due to her diligence at carving away at her jackolantern, looked over at your mom, shocked and terrified at her sudden change in mood and behavior.

“What’s wrong!?”

Your mom fell to the floor. She began pressing her forehead to the ground and groaning as her big ass stuck up in the air. “Get out of here! Run!”

Your mom’s friend was full of questions, but she knew she had no time to ask any of them and she shot up, causing your kitchen chair to bounce out from under her ass, fall backwards, and smash the glass face of the stove. She ran out towards the front door. Your mom groaned behind her before going silent completely. Your mom’s friend heard a thud sound, but she didn’t turn around to look. If she did, she would have seen your mom lying face down on the kitchen rug.

Your front door got closer and closer. Her stomach was turning. Not just from the events occurring behind her, but because of a sudden chemical reaction bubbling from within her. The door leading to the outside world away from this claustrophobic nightmare was only an arm’s length away. Suddenly, a dark figure appeared behind the glass. Your mom’s friend stopped cold.

The door opened.

“Oh, thank god, it’s you!” She exclaimed.

You stepped into your house, smiling.

“Look.” She pointed to your mom lying face down in the kitchen. She looked back up at your shocked face.

You approached your mom and got down on your hands and knees. She was out like a light. “Go to the bathroom. We need water!” You demanded from your mom’s friend as she stood sheepishly by the front door.

She ran down the hallway and snapped on the bathroom light. She emptied the cup full of toothbrushes and she turned on the tap. As she stood there, with her fingers on the cold water handle, it occurred to her that she could have gotten water from the kitchen, but she forgot about that under all her panic and stress.

When the cup was full she ran out into the hallway, leaving the tap running, and rushed toward the light of the kitchen.

When she turned the corner, she gasped, dropping the cup to the floor, causing it to spill its contents at her feet.

Sitting there in front of her, on the kitchen floor in front of the sink, was a body that she recognized well enough. But what startled her wasn’t the body of her friend, it was her head. Because right where your mom’s familiar face should have been was instead a jackolantern, grinning back at her mockingly.

She twisted around to run in the opposite direction, probably in an attempt to get to the front door through the living room, avoiding running past your mom’s garrish appearance in the kitchen.

As soon as she turned around, a tall fleshy figure stepped out from the hallway. She screamed. But the shape’s hand shot out and grabbed her mouth. Then he wrapped his arms around her little frame and pulled her towards his naked body. Naked from the neck down. She looked up at him with eyes that screamed what her mouth couldn’t. He looked down at her. His horribly calm eyes behind his white, featureless mask.

He pushed her back into the kitchen. She fell to the floor on her ass. He approached her. His hard member swinging freely at her face level. She tilted her head back with horror as the cock swung inches in front of her face, a pendulum of sweaty flesh. “Open up,” said the voice. It was a horrible, horrible voice. She shook her head. He grabbed her cheeks and pressed them with his thumb and his forefinger, causing her mouth to pop open comically as she tried to shake her head free, looking almost as if she was shaking her head in the negative to the idea that any of this was really happening.

The shape was finally able to stabilize her head. She braced herself for that hard cock to enter her throat. When suddenly, instead, a warm liquid spilled into her mouth from above. It tasted like pumpkin-spice.

The shape stood over her with her latte cup and tilted it until there was nothing left. She coughed up a little bit, but he let her go. She tried to get up and run, but her legs failed her and she fell down right into your mom, who look down at her with that mockish jackolantern face. Your mom’s friend turned around just as the shape got to her. He grabbed her by her jaw and placed his other hand on the back of her head, then he pressed her face down towards your mom’s crotch.

She whimpered there for what felt like an eternity to her. Until, the whimpering stopped. He let go of her and her head sprang back up and rested itself on the sink drawer next to your mom’s. Their bodies were pressed into each other. Your mom’s friend finally looked peaceful, and your mom’s big orange head, over her soft tanned body, smiled ridiculously into the silence of the kitchen. Sex Hilarious.

The shape grabbed her first, and dragged her by her bare ankles. Her head tilted to the side as it dragged along the kitchen tiles and smiled at the third victim, lying face down underneath the kitchen table. She kept looking over in that direction as her legs were lifted up into the air, and her shorts were pulled up the length of her legs, passed her bare feet. Her smiling jackolantern face remained the same as her panties were removed the same way. The man then lifted her up by her legs, causing her jackolantern helmet to fall off and roll on the ground towards her friend. She was now completely bottomless in the same room with her son and her best friend. It was a surreal moment that they weren’t both awake to witness. Nor was she awake in order to know it was happening to her.

The shape hoisted her body on top of the kitchen table. He seemed to be driven by one thing, completely ignoring the son below the table, and the woman to his right.

He titled his head slightly to the side as he examined his victim’s bare ass. Fascinated by it as it sat motionless. He reached over and grabbed the paint brush and little black box of paints. He placed them next to the big naked ass. They looked like a strip of cabins next to a mountain. He opened up the box. He started with the black. Paint drips fell to the floor as he worked above. First it was black paint, and then it was orange. When he was done, he pushed your mom over to the side of the table and picked up her friend. He stripped her naked the same way he did your mom and placed her faced down on top of the kitchen table, her big bare ass side-by-side with your mom’s.

He began on her ass after staring at it curiously for a few moments.

When he was done, the paint box fell to the floor. He carried one woman at a time, down the steps in the kitchen that led to the garage. He opened the garage door, where there was a big grey van backed up right to where the garage ended. He placed your mom in first, face down. Then he came back again through the damp garage air with your mom’s friend. But your fate wasn’t to be put in that back seat with them. Instead he just closed the door, got into the driver seat, and left without shutting the garage.

Only one person saw anything. A girl from your school, walking home just then, saw a naked man in a white mask with a fully erect cock getting into the driver seat of that van. She rushed off quickly, creeped out by the sight. But because she didn’t see any more than that, she didn’t do anything about it. It didn’t even occur to her to tell any of her friends that day. They wouldn’t believe her. The thing that creeped her out most was just as this man was climbing into the driver seat of the van, he noticed her. He looked right at her and didn’t break eye contact. His black eyes peered at her, into her, and she turned off to rush away.

Many more people saw the creepy, gray van as it passed by with its night-black tinted windows and thick mist-like exhaust. None of them could see the driver, who stared ahead in his mask as he drove past the orange glow of Halloween displays and decorations, driving at exactly the speed limit, no more, no less, with no apparent doubt in his mind about where he was headed. They also had no way of seeing the contraband he was carrying in his back seat: Two asses, jiggling about with each brake and turn, naked but for the orange and black paint that cast a garrish looking jackolantern, smiling at the roof of the van, on each luscious ass. Sex Hilarious.

———————————-

A figure, large and ominous was walking about the farmyard. He was towering and bulky with muscle. He looked around, startled by every little noise. He had seen this farm with its shed every few days driving past it to get to work. He had no clue he would ever be standing here one day, especially not after being invited here by a note shoved into his back pack at some random point in the day. 

“It’ll be worth your while. You have nothing to lose… but your head.” is how the message ended. He thought it was ridiculous at the time, though the promises the letter made intrigued him. But now that he was here, he couldn’t shake the feeling like he was being watched by someone. Or something. Either way, he wasn’t going to cut and run. Just in case he really was being watched. He didn’t care what little Halloween trick had been prepared for him, he was going to wear his flat, emotionless poker face like a man.

And he’d shake off any indication that the promise made by the note not being made good on was upsetting to him. He’d hide that, even though in his heart of hearts, he was hoping deeply that it would be true.

The weather was crisp and cold, chilling him inside and out.

He took a few modest steps under the eaves of the barn. His pace was slower now. His eyes fixated on the many spidery shadows of the barn, knowing each one could be a hiding place for something he didn’t want to see. He went a few meters forward, then doubled back cautiously, as if he missed something.

Then suddenly, his eyes went wide. He saw something through the corner of his left eye. Something moving. He slowly turned his head to see a jackolantern. Just a jackolantern. He took a sigh of relief. It was all in his head. “You’re being a pussy,” he thought to himself, punitively.

Then he noticed something strange about the jackolantern. Not only was it clearly not a real jackolanter, it was a painted jackolantern on the face of something. Something that was not only resting on a pile of hay in a way that defied gravity, but something that was fleshy and was…. breathing.

He stood there, petrified as stone, not knowing what to do. Afraid to approach the two orange faces smiling ominously at him, and afraid to walk away. And that’s when one of them moved, and he could see the golden-brown flesh colored canvas it was painted on peeking out from behind the hay. And then he realized what he was looking at.

A woman’s ass.

Two of them.

And on top of the hay was another note for him.

He picked it up and read it. It said: “I told you it would be worth your while to come here. But one demand if you want to live. Hump all you want, but no peeking inside in the hay. I have a million eyes and they’re all watching you. Just know that these are two girls you’ve seen before. If you don’t hump away, you’re also dead.”

Chills went up and down his spine. His mouth was dry. But as long as this mystery person was being honest, he had nothing to worry about. As curious as he was to put two faces to these two asses, he could restrain himself if it meant life or death. And he definitely didn’t need to be threatened to start humping away. He had had sex with 3 girls in his life up to this point. His girlfriend, her sister, and her best friend. He was more than happy to up his number to 5 within seconds of each other.

He stripped his pants from his ass and let his cock, still hard through all his apprehension and fright, hang loose. He then, pressed his cockhead and shaft deep into the pussy, or mouth, of one of the jackolanterns, groaning with pleasure as he did. Then he pulled it out back into the cold October air, stepped over a bit to the left, and after taking a second to feel the pussy out with his cock head, plunged his trembling cock head and shaft deep into the warm pussy of the second jackolantern. His number was now 5. Now that that was out of the way, he could really enjoy himself.

He was sweating and trembling all over, even in the cold air, and he removed all his clothing before giving his shaking hard dick shelter within the haunted house of this mystery girl’s pussy. His right butt cheek twitched with pleasure as he did. “Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes.” he said, voice breathless and shaking.

His cock going in and out of the jackolantern’s mouth should have been a familiar visual to him, but this connection was lost on him in that moment. He had caught one of his classmates in a room at a Halloween party years ago, sitting half naked on a bed, fucking the mouth of a jackolantern in the darkness. The whole party had a laugh at this guy’s expense when they bursted the door open on him to laugh after they were told about what was happening.

He was too overwhelmed by his ominous fear at the absurdity of his situation and glorious pleasure at this big ass and tight pussy on his hard prick to make these connections with events that happened in Halloweens past.

He wanted to see their faces so bad. Part of him almost thought it was worth the risk to take a peek as he switched from one ass to the other. “Ohhhhhh” he said aloud as he pressed his dick into the other pussy, “this one is so much better than the other one.” He kept pumping away at the mystery woman. He didn’t care if she was the ugliest woman he knew. He wanted to know who she was. Whose pussy he was violating right now.

He was about to get his answer.

“Aaaaggghhhhhh!”

Your mom and her friend burst out from under the hay.

His balls tightened up, and he almost came from the thrill of it all. Luckily he held on. The sudden jolt, triggering his fight or flight mechanism a bit, didn’t stop his pelvis from humping. And even through the sense of terror, he only took seconds to realize who he was looking at.

It was your mom and the pumpkin fucker’s mom. The revelation coming all at once almost made him cum again, and again he held on. Which was good, as now he wanted to fuck these two asses even more. The doped up eyes and mouths on their pretty faces looked back at him lazily. Your mom’s sweet pussy and fleshy ass felt so much better with her pretty face looking back at him. She was Hally Berry with a better body.

He was fucking the ass of the mom whose son he dominated at school. And Jackolantern Fucker’s mom’s bare ass was naked just next to her. They had been made into Halloween decorations by this mystery figure and handed over to him. Not only was he now free to fuck Jackolantern Fucker’s mom’s jackolantern, but he was free to take the sweet candy pussy from your mom to make up for the one Halloween he had to go without candy on because he beat you up for yours that night and you ran to your mom crying. He still remembers scowling at her from the kitchen as his parents handed her two pillowcases worth of candy, as you sat in the car crying.

He watched her brown legs and protruding butt in her Pirate costume skirt as she walked off. He knew he’d get her revenge on her one day.

He helped the women out of the hay once they started struggling to move around, completely forgetting what the note told him. He wanted to see their nakedness in all its glory.

Recognizing the effects of Blue Velvet in them, he knew that they’d be extremely vulnerable to suggestion.

“Shake your asses for me girls.” he demanded, cooly.

He watched their fat ass flesh wobble in the fresh October air, wondering if what he was looking at were two evil spirits, clothed in forms they knew would be the most appealing to him. After all, how could have this turned out so well?  And as turned on as he was, he couldn’t shake the feeling that that was exactly what was happening to him. The eerie faces on the asses didn’t help. They looked like they were laughing.

He could almost hear it.

“Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha,” mockingly.

It was coming through so high-pitched and clear within his head. It was almost as if now he knew that was what was happening. But his cock didn’t falter in its rigidity. It stood strong and proud. He was still overcome with excitement and lust, and the only thing that scared him more than the thought of these asses opening up and swallowing him whole, was the possibility that it wasn’t those two loser’s moms he was fucking.

“Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.”

And even if these two ghosts or creatures or whatever they were had disguised themselves in the exact image of what these two women’s naked bodies actually looked like, the thought that it wasn’t actually them he was violating in this moment was horrifying.

He reached out and grabbed your mom’s ass. Then he put his finger in between her opening and closing butt cheeks. Oh, they were so warm and soft. He took a sigh of relief, because in the moment he knew these thoughts were only shadows from the dark corners of his paranoid mind.

He was replacing the positive unbelievable reality with a negative unbelievable reality. He had no reason to do that. The truth of what was actually happening was crazy enough for him not to make up any more wild tales.

All at once, the witch cackling from their asses stopped as their asses stopped shaking.

But he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread at the two rictus grinning jackolanterns looking up at him. He saw a hose sitting over to the side.

“Okay, shake those asses girls.”

He played with his cock as he sprayed the two giant fleshy butts in front of him. He grinned evilly at his victory over these imaginary spirits. And with quite the show. The jackolantern faces began to fade and he could feel a darkness being lifted.

Their asses were just regular asses, not the faces of demons. If there were any real ghosts or spirits working to steer anyone’s fate this Halloween, they were working in his favor.

The Shape that brought him here watched from the darkness of the barn as he washed off the two naked bodies. The Shape’s eyes stood emotionless and black behind his white mask. His body stood still, all of it, but for his neck, which tilted his head sideways as he watched. A spider crawled across his face. He didn’t react. He just watched with his black eyes. Motionless. But for his chest as he breathed and his naked cock as it twitched.

The man he was watching enjoyed your mom’s ass, completely unaware that he was being watched. He forgot completely. All knowledge and fear had left on a black stagecoach being dragged by the power of your mom’s fat ass. Your mom’s ass had that effect on people even when they weren’t fucking her. 

The slap of your mom’s ass was drowned out by the sound of car engines, delivering little Frankenstein’s Monsters and Trolls to the city where they could collect bagfulls of candy.

And here, tucked away from that ritual, your mom kissed her friend’s ass as it rode your bully’s cock. And when he wanted to know what your mom’s pussy tasted like, all he had to do was ask.

His tongue invaded every part of your mom’s pussy.

Would it have made you proud to know that your mom’s ass was the one he decided to bust his warm load on? Because that’s what he did. And he left it there, along with her friend’s, sitting naked on that Halloween evening, just as the trick or treaters had hit their first few houses, and the goblins and ghouls rose from the dirt to make the night’s mischief complete.

The Shape watched as your classmate left. Moments later, he got into your family van and drove back to your house. Trick-or-treaters littered both sides of any street he drove down.  It was dark at this point, so he was able to exit the van in the cover of darkness. He rounded the corner of your house and walked along its wall, around to the back.

He disappeared into the blackness.

———————————-

You walked down your hallway with your hand running through your hair which had been matted with sweat. You felt like you were on a drug. You had this hazy feeling, an unreal sensation, as if you had just woken up from the most unbelievable dream you’ve ever had. One that felt too real to be a dream.

As you walk into the living room, headed towards your kitchen, you stop cold. You see someone in the corner of your eye.

You gulp.

You look over slowly

Your mom’s friend’s son is sitting on the couch, holding a jackolantern in his hands. He looks up at you, emotionless with plain.

“Wh-what are you doing here?” you ask.

He just looks at you confused. “I… I don’t know. I think… I don’t know what’s going on.”

You shake as you look at him. He wasn’t in any normal state of mind. “Would you like a ride home?”

He looks up at you again, with a stare a thousand miles deep. “Yeah… I think so. But… my mouth is dry. Can I get water first?”

You sheepishly nod your head and duck into the kitchen. As the tap runs, he slowly rotates the jackolantern in his lap until it’s looking up at him. It’s smiling face garrishly laughing up at him.

You come back from the kitchen, looking back into it at all the paint on the floor, the tossed chair, your mom’s clothing on the table, and the discarded pair of panties. You look back at him, trying to look calm as to not draw his attention toward the fact that you noticed something strange had happened in our kitchen.

You hand him his water. You head back to your room. Cold October air blows in through your open window. You grab the keys to the van from your dresser. You get him into your van and you drive him down through the dark Halloween night streets, witch, ghosts, goblins and vampires on all sides around you in the darkness, all averaging about 3 feet tall. He’s staring off into space. You gulp deeply.

And then suddenly, he begins laughing.

“Ha ha ha ha ha.”

You keep your eyes straight ahead, as sweat trickles down from your forehead.

“Ha ha ha ha ha haaaaa…”

He stops laughing only to stare off into space.

You were finally in front of his house, and the weight you had felt on your shoulders felt like it was being lifted. “Trick or treat!!” is what you hear from the 4 kids standing on his porch. Nobody answers because nobody is home.

He steps out of the car and says goodbye. Good was an understatement. And he brushes awkwardly past the kids on his stoup and disappears into the blackness of his house. You take a deep breath, relieved, and you drive off.

His blinds were wide open, with the orange glow from outside spilling into what would otherwise be stark darkness. He sits down on his couch, with thin rays of orange light projecting themselves at him, illuminating horizontal stripes of his person.

He breaths deeply in the dark.

“Why was I there?” he asks himself. “How did I get there?” He tried to retrace his steps. But it was hard, because after somehow remembering that he had gone over there to see his mom before heading home, his footsteps led to a black oblivion of thought, though not completely of sensation, as he remembers a strange other-wordly feeling, maybe in his gut, as if something foreign and wrong had entered him. And then he was on that couch, with that jackolantern in his hands.

No, wait. That’s not where and when he woke up. He remembers picking the jackolantern off the kitchen floor. The kitchen floor that was littered with paint and a pair of panties.

“And I… I woke up….”

He thought about it hard, trying to remember.

Suddenly it clicked.

“I woke up under the kitchen table.”

3 kids: 1 Witch and 2 Devils approached his front door. The large black windows and lack of light on the porch loomed down at them. Their pillow cases were tight in their hands.

Inside, as he sat on the couch trying to piece it all together, he felt something strange in his stomach. And then a familiar terror, something in his gut. And that’s when he realized it. “THERE WAS SOMETHING IN THAT WATER!!”

The 3 kids stopped short, their mouths open, milliseconds away from calling “trick or treat!” They fled from the dark house and the horrors that awaited them inside.

Inside, he lay on his back, passed out on his couch, seconds after shooting upwards and suddenly losing strength and thought, until all that was left was a black nothingness and he fell back down onto the couch. Nothing but a black nothingness. A black nothingness and that feeling in his gut.

—————————-

You feel a bit nervous as you head to your washroom. You hear kids yelling “Trick or Treat!” outside but you ignore them.

You look at yourself in the washroom mirror, feeling giddy and strange, and you hear a strange buzzing noise in your ears. It’s constant and unceasing. Like running water. You look down to see the tap is on, and you and your mom’s toothbrushes are lying in the sink. You put your hands under the cold water. Orange and black paint run down the drain.

“Trick or treat!” again from outside.

You shut off the tap and head for your room.

The night wind is blowing the curtains in, making a subtle whistling noise. You close the window, shutting yourself off from the ghastly fun going on all around the neighborhood. You sit on your bed, with your back resting on the head rest, staring at yourself in your mirror. You look exhausted.

An image flashed in your mind. A rustic door frame, surrounded by darkness and itself surrounding an image that was green, white, yellow, orange and brown and constantly moving. You smile at your reflection.

You then freeze as you notice something out of the corner of your eye. A face. You look over to your right to see it, waiting for you on your pillow. White, emotionless, void of features. You put it on and look at yourself in the mirror. You look down at your rock hard cock. You still had orange and black paint on it from earlier. It had dropped onto your toes too. And the bottom of your right foot, as you could see in your mirror, had the black leftover from the top of your accelerator and brake, and little dirty strands of hay littered your bed around your feet.

You stroke your cock as you look at yourself in the mirror. Your black eyes, emotionless, driven, blank. Looking less like a human, and more like a…

… a shape.

You tilt your head to the side.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1iHkqgKMBDc (Hold ctrl and click on link)

Epilogue

Two big brown asses sitting out in the cold, surrounded by the pitch-black night. Illuminated only by the circumference of light propped up by two white candles, each protruding from one’s asshole. The two brown asses of two friends, sitting within two overlapping circles of visibility and warmth in a night without either. Hot candle wax spills from each, landing in the crevice between two butt cheeks.

The asses sit there. Brown cheeks, brown thighs, brown lower back, but no brown faces can be seen. A wolf howls in the night.

The wind blows, and the candles are snuffed out, leaving the illimitable blackness to swallow all.

You started work at the surveillance equipment shop. You loved it. The people you worked with were very nice to you, although they thought you were kind of weird. you could tell. But at least they weren’t rude about it. You finally felt like you belonged somewhere.

One day your boss is looking at new equipment the shop just got in. It’s a little camera that looks like a toothbrush. he wants to set it up in the shop to test it out. You listen to him soliloquy about it for a few minutes while you sweep the floor. Suddenly you hear a familiar voice call you.

You look up and what you see fills your stomach with warmth. It’s your mom. She came to bring you lunch for the day. She’s always looking out for you. You’re lucky to have her. 

You’re excited to introduce her to your colleagues. you motion over to your boss, but when you do you notice that he’s already staring at her, totally transfixed. She says hi and she leaves. Your boss and a few of your coworker watch her intently as she walks away. For some reason at the time, it didn’t occur to you that they were looking at the way your high-school bully used to when he would make rude remarks about her “fat ass." 

An hour later your boss comes up to you after being totally silent for that time and tells you that he has an idea. He wanted to test out the tooth brush camera and was initially going to set it up in the shop. But the point of the camera isn’t just to capture footage, but it’s also supposed to successfully pass for a toothbrush. Well, what better way to test for that than to put it in a washroom. More specifically, your washroom.

You wonder why he doesn’t put it in his, but before you can ask he tells you that he lives alone and that it needs to be around someone who doesn’t know that it isn’t just a toothbrush. That’s the only way to see if it’s actually convincing. Of course!! You felt stupid that you were even about to ask. He tells you that he wants it to be in your washroom because he trusts you’ll do it correctly. You blush at his faith in you. He’s giving you a chance above all your coworkers. Lucky you.

So you set up the camera at home, with butterflies in your stomach, and you think of an excuse just in case your mom realizes it’s fake. And then you go about your day, excited for it to succeed, and to prove to your boss that your a valuable employee.

The next day you bring the brush back to work, excited to prove yourself. your boss seems excited as well. He sets the brush up on a t.v. screen and he begins watching it. The video comes up. So the camera does work. He doesn’t seem to be impressed by that though.

And then your mom comes into the shot and begins cleaning up the washroom, not noticing the camera at all. You smile to yourself. You did a good job. But when you look over at your boss he doesn’t seem to care. He begins fast forwarding through the footage. You’re confused. He fast-forwards until he gets to the events of this morning just 15 minutes before you took the camera from the washroom to bring it here. 

Your mom comes in with a towel, and ready to take a shower. Your stomach drops. your boss tells you he needs to test if steam from a shower ruins the footage at all. It made sense to you. But you couldn’t help but feel weird about it. You sit with him awkwardly as your mom removes her clothes. She takes off her pants, and then her underwear, and her big beautiful butt comes into view. Your boss moans a bit. 

Just then one of your coworker comes in, and immediately stops cold when he sees whats on the screen. Your boss explains to him, much to your dismay, that it’s your mom’s body they’re enjoying on screen. Your coworker asks if he can have a copy of the footage. You’re shocked when you hear your boss say yes. Your sit there sheepishly while they both make sexual comments about her. 

"i’d love to have a go at her." 

"she’s doesn’t even know we’re watching her.”

And the first compliment of the day. “You did a good job, kid. Your mom has a great butt. We weren’t supposed to see it. Thank god for technology.” He pats you on the shoulder.

The next day you come in for work there’s a picture taped to the whiteboard. It’s two side-by-side images of your mom. One is security footage of her from behind when she brought your lunch in to the store, and the picture to the right of it was of your mom naked in the washroom getting ready for work.

By now everyone has seen it and you find out later that everyone was sent the footage as well. You feel utterly betrayed. Your mom comes in again to bring you lunch from a nearby restaurant. You feel horrible as your boss and coworkers stare at her with evil little smiles on their faces. What have you done?

You find out a week later that your boss is hiring a new guy. He’s going to get to see your mom and the whiteboard as well. Your sweeping the front of the store sheepishly when you hear a voice behind you that terrifies you. “You work here too faggot!?”

You turn around to see it’s your bully from high-school. The one that used to talk about your mom’s ass. He’s wearing the store uniform. After that, your boss comes in and starts walking him to the back room. You just look at them knowing what he’s about to get an eyeful of. You continue sweeping.

Bluvelvet99: Bronze Era Classic  

Originally published March 30, 2014

Toys in the Sandbox

You were at a house party. It was being held by a family friend who was your age. You didn’t like him very much. You never have. But your mom convinced you that the both of you should go. She said that it wasn’t right to not show up to his big special day, but you could tell her real concern was for you to get out of the house and meet people for once in your life. 

Who knows, you could maybe find a girlfriend there or something. She also said she wanted to see the birthday boy now that he was all grown up. She‘s known him since he was little, and it’s been a few years since the last time she saw him.

As you sat in the car, watching the street lights pass in the night, you couldn’t believe you let her convince you to go to this stupid party. You were sure that nothing good, exciting, sexual, or romantic would happen to you that night. Your life sucked up to this point. Why would tonight be any different?  But regardless, you went to make your mom happy. You could never say no to her. The look on your face when you finally caved into her requests was always so heavenly it warmed you from your toes to your tummy.

When you finally got to the loud, crowded party, you sat in the corner and watched people be normal in a way that you just couldn’t muster. You especially watched your old “friend”, the birthday boy, hit on girls and brag about his accomplishments in life to them. It seemed so cocky, arrogant, and even fake. But nobody seemed to notice. Not even your mom. The girls listening to his tall tales watched with wide-eyes as his stories neared their tired punchlines, which somehow always seemed both predictable and unlikely.

But what could you do? What could you do other than watch as everyone there got drunker and drunker as the night went on, Including your mom, who was really tipping them back.

And then something funny happened. Something unexpected. Girls were approaching you, with smiles on their dimpled faces, and they were trying to get you to dance with them, much to your terror and joy. You kept replying to the negative whenever they did, almost reflexively, as if your fight or flight instinct was trying to save you from being mauled by tigers. But as the night wore on, the horrifying and uncertain novelty of finally being brought into the fold was starting to wear off, and you eventually gave in.

And then you approached the dance floor with something approaching confidence, and when you got there, and you began shaking to the music while holding them close, they  repaid your new act of courage by laughing at your dance moves. Some of them even pointed. You sulked back to your little corner shamefully where you swore to yourself that you would never dance again. This night really was going to be just like every other night in your boring, dull life. Why would you expect it to be any different? Fun, excitement, and erotic experiences and conquests were for other people. Not you.

You looked back up at the party around you, hoping nobody was looking back at you, then you drew your eyesight back to the floor, shook your head, and then-

Wait a second!

You looked back up.

You mom was talking to the birthday boy.

Well, there was nothing wrong with that of course. It would all be so perfectly innocent.

Except….

She was sitting on his lap.

She was leaned back with her head on his chest and his chin on the top of her skull. His big strong arms were wrapped around her waist. He was holding a plastic cup with beer in it out in front of the two of them, and every once in a while he would lift it to her face and she’d take a sip. Well… it was more than just a sip.

You’d pay close attention to the way her bubble but was mushed up against the welcoming groove in his pelvis. You could tell he had an erection by the miracle of your mom’s ass rippling subtly every few seconds while his cock was satisfied face every time this happened. Your mom’s face showed no sign of knowledge regarding what was happening beneath her. At least not at first. Not until she cracked a smile and looked back at him with a peculiar naughtiness in her eyes. You’ve never seen that look on her gorgeous face before. It was like seeing a completely new woman.

You could tell that the cock he was packing impressed her. How big that thing must have grown since she knew him as a kid. And imagine how he must have felt with that legendary ass (one that probably shaped his sexual discovery in his formative years) with it’s fleshiness swallowing his hard cock and all its active nerve-endings.

Your mom wasn’t the only person impressed. You couldn’t believe how much it aroused you to see someone you hated since childhood now taking your mom in this fashion. You knew you should step up to the plate to stop this, it was the manly thing to do, but the strong cocktail of fear and arousal kept you glued to your seat, wherever this ride was headed.

The birthday boy and your mom continued like this while chatting with each other, and to nearby house guests.  After about an hour, your mom was completely plastered. She was a hot, affectionate, giggly mess. A sweet, condensation drenched, low-hanging fruit, that smelled like cherry and vodka, ripe for the picking. 

And your “friend” was eager to capitalize. And capitalize he did. While your mom was sitting on your lap looking like she was in love, he grabbed her top, with his index finger in between her cleavage. Your mouth hung open as you wondered if he was going to do it.

He did.

He pulled her top down, exposing her tits to his crowded basement.

She tried to pull her shirt and bra back up, but he put his arms in the way as an obstacle and kept forcing her shirt down every time she made progress, while moving his head from side to side as if to say no, until she finally gave up. Then he grabbed her right breast, squeezed it and leaned over her shoulder and began kissing it.

Everyone was cheering and laughing at this wild spectacle and taking pictures. He was groping both tits hard and passionately, and she was in too much drunken bliss and excitement to realize it was a bad idea to let him continue. You’ve never seen tits before, so even though they were attached to you mom you couldn’t help but get a little bit turned on seeing them. You saw what all the fuss was about.

Those two round glorious things lived underneath the very roof you did since the day you were born, and it was only now that you were seeing just how glorious they were. And to make it more surreal, you were one of dozens of guys to see them for the first time, all at once, all in this loud, crowded, smokey, liquor stained basement.

But the night was young, and the strangeness contained within it had just gotten started. Things started to escalate quickly. So quickly, you couldn’t believe you were there to witness it. You watched, totally riveted, as he removed her pants and panties, with only token objecting from her, and after removing his own pants, he began pumping away at your mom from behind. Everyone was cheering and you could feel the energy of the crowd, and the warmth of being in a room with people who all felt that same ethereal wave. Guys were getting jerked off by their girlfriends as they watched this. You realized how much you wished you had a girlfriend in that moment, just so she could sit beside you and play with your cock, which was now harder than it had ever been in your life.

You could feel the sense of community in the room and suddenly you understood why people held parties. You continued watching in glee, and then suddenly you felt something on your prick. It was something warm. Warm and soft. It was a hand. A woman’s hand.

“i’ve been watching you all night, and now you’re mine.” you looked over and it was a girl. A cute one too. You were shocked as she pulled the cock out of your pants and began playing with it. You had never even kissed a girl before, other than your mom on her cheek. You had never even hugged a girl other than your mom, when you could feel her big tits hidden in her shirt pressed against your skinny chest, the same tits that were across from you in that basement bouncing around liberally as she was being fucked.

And now here you were, getting a hand job form a girl you haven’t even met before. You had felt what her hand felt like on your crotch before even seeing her face. It felt amazing. She told you to keep your eyes ahead and watch “the show,” as she called it.

She was asking you questions the whole time, eager to get to know the guy she was giving a free handy to. Some questions were personal, some informal. She seemed really into you. Shockingly into you. She wanted to know your name, your age, how you knew the host, you favorite song, when the last time you cried was. She was so cool. You couldn’t believe anybody, never the less a woman, would ever feel these things toward you. You and your mom were having the time of your lives, as was everyone else. Especially your family friend, who was being cheered on, as he grunted and grinned, fucking your mom’s ass while groping her big, naked, brown, breasts and kissing her passionately.

He had waited years to fuck her. It had only been a fantasy until tonight. Just jerkoff fodder that had now become a hard as concrete reality with all his friends to witness it on the anniversary of the day he was brought into this world 19 years ago.

It was glorious. It was oh-so-perfect. Suddenly, the beautiful mysterious girl jerking you off asked “who is that woman? She’s beautiful.“

You replied with "she’s my mom.” You couldn’t get it out fast enough.

Suddenly the jerking stopped. A few guys and girls near you were looking at you. The only girl in your life stood motionless for a few seconds, your cock still in her petrified hand, then she got up and walked away in disgust. She went from being enamored with you to stonewalling you out of existence within only 10 minutes of you knowing her, leaving your hard cock out to dry. The 3 guys and 4 women who heard you say that that was your mom being fucked by the birthday boy up there looked down at your hard, twitching cock. One of them just shook his head and snorted.

But their attention was snatched away when your mom yelled out “i love you!!! Fuck me harder, baby!!!” Everyone started laughing. Your “friend” just looked at his audience, took his right hand off your mom’s hip, and, without her seeing, began twirling his index finger around his blushing ear, as if to say “this bitch is crazy,” much to the delight of all his friends.

Your mom wasn’t just jerk off material to everyone, but she was apparently also comic relief. “You’ve grown so big” she continued, “i feel like i raised you.”

That did it. You gear shifted to an even higher level of joy. A joy higher than what you felt with that pretty girl’s soft palm on your balls. You had nothing to be ashamed of. Who needs her hand anyway? Especially since you have your own. The people who heard you say that it was your mom being fucked began laughing when they turned over to see you jerking off your cock in complete ecstasy. There laughs had no effect on you. At least not a negative one.

The girl you were just with a few minutes ago was off in another corner, jerking off a new guy and kissing his neck passionately. He looked like he was in pure ecstasy. Pure ecstasy one level below yours.

“She doesn’t look so good!” broke your focus on your “ex’s” hand on that strange hard dick.

You looked over at your mom.

She looked sick. Oh no! She wasn’t going to, was she? She did. She started to throw up. Much to everyone’s delight. Luckily she was standing over the garbage. You didn’t realize she was this drunk. but it was obvious in hindsight. Why else would she be getting fucked in a room full of strange young people? She was probably out of her mind right now. How could you let that happen? It didn’t really matter. You weren’t going to stop it now. It was just getting good.

Your “friend” didn’t stop or slow down his pace as she was threw up. In between smirking, he made sudden euphoric facial expressions, likely because your mom’s pussy was tightening over his dick as she vomited into the empty black abyss just below her. You liked the sound your mom made when she puked. You found it strangely intimate the way a room full of men could hear a sound from your mom’s throat that would usually only be made in the privacy of her washroom. It was almost as if they were watching her take a crap. It was nice.

When she was finally done puking, your “friend” lowered her on all fours. The garbage can slid down to a horizontal position with her. He was on his knees now, fucking her like the animal he turned her into. The top half of her body was swallowed up by the garbage can, leaving only her waist, ass, thighs, calves, ankles, feet and toes exposed to her audience.

With each pump he pushed her deeper into that garbage can, until the can totally hid her golden, brown body from view. She must of had her hand and knees in her own vomit at this point. Everyone was laughing for the unrestrained insanity of this moment. So were you. Your cock was in heaven. And the people who knew it was your mom being fucked got double the joke, including your “friend” who was just smiling as he did this.

Eventually you could hear your mom puking from inside the garbage can. You could see the silhouette of her hand when she pressed it against the side, almost as if she couldn’t tell where she was and she was trying to escape her new prison. The whole thing must have reaked of her vomit. It was almost like she was trapped inside her own stomach. This made it even funnier and more arousing. Although, you did feel sorry for her. Not enough to come to her rescue though.

Your “friend” then pulled out of your mom’s pussy. Then he grabbed your mom by her calves and pulled her out of the garbage can in a motion that mirrored the visual of his cock coming out of her pussy. She came out with her face scraping on the bottom of the can. She had her own vomit all over her face and chest. A lot of it had soaked up into her shirt. Everyone laughed and took pictures. She was unbelievably confused.

The night continued on like this for so long that people no longer saw your mom getting fucked as novel or interesting. It was a like a regular party again, except it was one that had your mommy being fucked as background noise. You were the only one that didn’t have the magic wear out on. You could never tired of this. You watched intently as people passed through your line of sight, temporarily blocking you from seeing your mom get plowed. You were still beating off. especially not that other guys at the party were having their crack at her and her golden goodness. She was barely awake at that point, just a mumbling, sticky mess with her ass up in the air comically. They preferred her that way though. And so did you.

When your mom woke up the next morning, with her pants off and covered in puke and with cum on her face and ass, she didn’t remember the events of the night before. You told her that you didn’t either. Everyone else said the same thing. That might have been true in a few of their cases. It was a wild party after all. But half of them had photographic evidence on their phones to remind them. They didn’t show her of course. they’d rather play stupid and not implicate themselves in her violation.

Those pictures got around quickly. One of the pictures captured both your mom and “friend” fucking in the foreground with you in the background beating off in your pure bliss. It reminded you of a picture your mom had from years ago. It was stuck to your fridge with a magnet that looked like a school bus. The picture was of her, much younger - as old as you and your “friend” are today -  playing with you and your “friend” in a sandbox. Your “friend” had her attention. She was smiling while leaning over, examining the toy he had in his hands, smiling as her big tits almost cascaded out of her top and her big, round butt, firmer than it is now, stood up in the air. You were standing in the background, with your toy in your right hand, looking at them with a smile.

Your mom wanted you and her to go to that party to rekindle that past. The one you almost forgot about. In a weird way, she did rekindle it.

One-Sided Meeting (Remember Me?)

You were standing at the back of the line and you couldn’t contain your smile. Of all the places in the world, this was the place where you finally get to see him again. In the most humiliating place possible. For him that is.

The shoe was on the other foot. It was a jack boot, and you were about to shove it so far up his proverbial ass you’d be able to control his facial expressions by wiggling your toes.

Another customer served, another link in the chain busted free, another step closer. You couldn’t wait. Those long gone days. You remember them like they were yesterday. One memory in particular, likely because of how similar it was to where you were now. In line in your old elementary school cafeteria. Standing just behind the blonde girl you had a crush on. The edges of existence itself felt blurred whenever you were around her. Everything looked like a dream sequence in the cartoons you got up early to watch ever Saturday morning. Except things felt more real, not less, whenever she was standing near you.

You couldn’t feel your legs, as if you were floating. She was inches in front of you. You wanted that moment to last forever.

Then suddenly: “Hey, Dirty Sanchez. Mind if I cut in line?”

You turned around suddenly to see him standing there, a full 2 and a half feet taller than you. Unluckily, everybody else in line turned to look as well. They started laughing at his pet name for you. He just looked down at you with that smug grin.

“I hope you don’t mind me cutting in front,” he said as he did, “think of it kind of like jumping the border. I’m sure you know what that’s like.”

Your classmates didn’t get the reference. But you did, and you were trying real hard to fight back the tears. You knew that once you let just one loose, the rest would follow in force.

“I saw that.” You turned around to see your teacher, Mrs. Botaccelli, approaching. “Cutting kids in line? Really?” Her look of disgust was palpable.

“What?”

“Get out of line before I go to the superintendent.”

“The superintendent? Why not go to the principal?” he suggested, smug grin and all.

“Well, maybe it’s because a little bird told me that the principal is actually your uncle. And I was wondering who would hire you for this job. I knew it had to either be stupidity or nepotism. Turns out it was both.”

“Looks like you won this time. Now turn around and leave.” He stepped out of the line, smug grin still affixed to his helmet.

Mrs. Botaccelli just smiled as she walked off. He stared at her as she did.

“I like her even more when she’s walking away,” he said. He looked over at you. “You ever seen a butt that nice?”

You just stared up at him. You have. You saw it everyday at home. Little did he know, in the next few weeks, he was going to see it too.

Another customer was served, and you were another step closer to his dead-eyed gaze as a he piled food onto the tray of another satisfied customer. Service without a smile. His hairnet was the cherry on top of this fulfilling sundae.

You were lost in thought yet again. To the first day he saw her. She had come in to help with student reading week. I’m talking about your mom of course. She was bent over the desk, having a conversation with Mrs. Boteccelli. He looked over at their slightly bent over butts as they leaned over the desk. It was bittersweet. He loved seeing those two gorgeous asses lined up so perfectly next to each other, contrasting each other beautifully, but he didn’t want Mrs. Boteccelli to tell your mom about what a real piece of work he was.

“Hey, Dirty Sanchez, how do you like the look of that? If you look at the line in between her forearm and her bicep, you can tell what her butt looks like. Man, that’s a nice tan shade. Is she your mom?” He clearly asked that as a joke, because when your mom turned around, and catching your eye, waved to you, smiled, and said “hi” silently, his face turned white. Whiter than usual that is.

Mrs. Boteccelli gave him her patented disgusted look as she ushered your mom off to where the books were kept.

You could feel him next to you. You could always sense him when he was near. But now he was different. Like something inside him was missing. The same thing that made him so imposing to you.

And when he finally got a chance to start talking to your mom, it was clear what that something was. His confidence. He had no way of knowing what your mom knew. Has she heard the stories about the way he talks to you? Does she know about the time he tripped you when you were playing soccer with your classmates just to see you fall? Does she know about the way he openly brings up Mrs. Botaccelli’s butt to the students?

He had no way of knowing, and this uncertainty was what robbed him of his swagger. It showed in the way he talked to your mom. For the first time ever, you had lost all fear of him. He was like an injured bird or a chastised dog. You almost felt sorry for him. Not for too long though.

Eventually, reading week ended, just like any other week, and your mom was gone. This was enough to restore his mojo, robbing you of the satisfaction of knowing your mom, and her “gorgeous butt”, would be away from him, because, when it came to how he treated you, he just picked up where he left off.

He went right back to calling you Dirty Sanchez. He went right back to treating you like his favorite pinata, beating you with words whenever he got his chance. Except now, he had a new stick to beat you with. Once while doing finger painting, he came up close beside you and asked if you ever saw your mom’s butt naked before. You didn’t know how to answer that. He said that you should draw what it looks like for him.

You were so afraid, as he stood there, kneeling right next to you, that you instead painted out an image of your mom’s friend’s butt, which you had accidentally seen once.

“That’s your mom’s?” He asked. You nodded your head, sheepishly. “Cool. Can I keep it?” You nodded again.

Another time, he saw you picking pedals off a flower, playing She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not with your blonde classmate in mind. He came up to you and asked you what you were doing. You stood there quietly, afraid to move, never mind speak. He asked you if you were playing “My Mom’s Butt, Mrs. Boteccelli’s Butt.” You didn’t answer. You just pulled off another pedal. He said “Mrs. Boteccelli’s butt.” You looked at him. He stared down at you intently. “Pick another pedal.” You did. He responded with “Your mom’s butt. Okay, another one. Mrs. Boteccelli’s butt. Your mom’s butt. Mrs. Boteccelli’s butt. Your mom’s butt. Boteccelli’s butt.”

When you got near the end, the flower looking dismal and dead in your hand, you knew your mom’s butt would be the “winner” (lucky her…) so you ripped off two pedals at once. “Your dirty spick,” is what he responded with. “Your mom’s it is. The gods have spoken. That’s what happens when you cheat.”

Luckily for you, reading week was reading week and not reading year. If it wasn’t for that one field trip at the zoo, he never would have seen your mom again  at all. The best part of all was that even on that field trip, her shirt hung down over her ass, obscuring it from his greedy eyes. He didn’t even get one farewell look at it. 

He was trying to make up for his lack of confidence the last time he saw your mom by being as loud and obnoxious as possible. He kept trying to make small talk with her, but she seemed to be responding to him mostly out of a feminine urge to be nice, rather than actual interest in the conversation. Mrs. Boteccelli rolled her eyes at him.

To top it all off, that would be his last day at work. While you and your classmates sat in the dark enclosure, watching the owls sit in the artificial moonlight, something happened in the parking lot involving him that was so beyond the pale that, later that day, his uncle had to find the stomach to fire his own nephew from the gig he initially provided him. Principal giveth, principal taketh away. 

Your field trip was over.

On your way back to your classroom, walking past the office, you saw Mrs. Boteccelli describing the mystery event through the glass. You couldn’t hear her, but you saw her rocking her fist back and forth in front of her face and pressing her cheek outward with her tongue. It wasn’t until years later that you knew what that meant. He must have made that gesture at her after they argued in the parking lot over the usual. He might have even groped her. That’s what you gathered from the slapping motion she made with her hand just as you and your classmates were herded around the corner and she was out of view.

It was finally over. He was gone.

For years you wondered where he went. He was the little voice in the back of your head telling you you weren’t good enough. Making you feel like an outsider. You always wondered if seeing him would send you into shock or whether it would de-fang his legend in your overactive imagination. Well, you now how your answer.

You smiled as you took another step closer. The woman before you ordered a crescent and a smoothie. His eyes were dead. He had none of the usual joy he exuded when working as your recess monitor. Life had beat him down. He bitterly, but non-defiantly, handed the woman her tray and she walked off.

You took your step up to his counter. Your palms were sweating. You would have found it impossible to conceal your joy even if your life depended on it. “Hi,” you said.

“Hi,” he said, looking down at the register.

“Can I get a ham and Swiss with a water.”

<tap> <tap> <tap> “Yeah. That’ll be $5.28.”

You pulled the ten dollar bill out of your pocket and before handing it to his outstretched palm, you pulled it back, lifted it to your face, and scratched your cheek. He followed the bill as it moved, across the table, up your stomach and chest, right up to your face, and then he made eye contact.

He froze.

You stood there smiling, from ear to ear, all your pride seeing him in this low state. It had all built up to this moment.

He looked at you for a second, in your eyes which must have shone cruelly as black suns.

Would he say anything?

Suddenly, the corners of his mouth bent slightly upwards. And they kept going. And the lines on his eyes creased, and his lips kept on, until it hit you. He was smiling.

Confidently. Smugly. Wide. Enthusiastically. Genuinely. He was smiling.

He was smiling right at you.

What was going on?

He was happy to see you. Unashamed. Almost as if you were the one who should be embarrassed.

But…

A terror took hold of you like you couldn’t describe. So much so that you knew you were telegraphing it with your face, no matter how hard you tried to hide it.

His smile wouldn’t break. He was a foot away from your face, grinning confidently, as if he wanted to laugh at some cruel joke, or some sad figure. Like he was watching a clown locked in its most ridiculous bit. He was beaming like you’ve never seen him. So familiar, yet so new and sick.

What was happening?

Suddenly, the image of Mrs. Boteccelli standing in that office flashed in your mind. She lifted her fist to her face, rocked it back and forth, and pressed her inner cheek with her tongue. With her right hand, she made a slapping motion, as if smacking a fat bottom, until she disappeared as you rounded the corner.

It kept replaying in your head, as if you were scanning each pixel of your memory for clues.

You were being walked into class by the bus driver because your teacher, wide-eyed in the principal’s office, was passionately describing what she saw in that parking lot. He cheek bulged in and out.

Her typical look of disgust at all things him, which had been burnt into your memory, wasn’t really there now that you think of it. She had more humor in her face. Like she enjoyed what she had seen. At least the messed up spectacle of it. Like she had just came out of a circus tent, excited to relay the contents of the freak to those still waiting in line. She seen something in that parking lot, she wasn’t the victim of it. She was the witness.

The bus driver, when looking back to make sure all the students were following him through the hallway, kept locking eyes with you. One of the teachers was leaning over the librarian’s desk speaking to her in hushed tones, as if sharing news she shouldn’t be. When your class passed by they looked over. They watched with concern in their faces as the cloudy mass of students passed, waiting for them to disappear so they could continue talking. No, they weren’t looking at the class with concern. They were looking right at you.

The bus driver brought you all into class and got you to sit down. He had you play classroom games to pass the time until your teacher was back. Usually the recess monitor would do that, but he was in trouble for whatever he did in that zoo parking lot so he wasn’t there. But if the recess monitor wasn’t there, then the parent volunteer should have….

….where was your mom during all this?

The beads of sweat fell thick along your face as he stared into your eyes, grinning at the gift God set before him.

Mrs. Botecculli, trying not to laugh, excited to share what she saw with the principal, jerked her fist in front of her face, and poked into her cheek comically. Then she lifted her hand up and made a smacking motion in the air, and she said something. You couldn’t hear it, but you could see her mouthing the syllables out in a way that was familiar to you. You could see it now, as clear as day and in slow motion. Each syllable isolated, but said in quick succession. It was a name.

Oh god!

No!

She disappeared as you rounded the corner.

He stared into your eyes. Your face was red hot with shame and submission. The bulge in his beige khakis twitched. His smile wide and unceasing like the sky. His back straight and his chin up, his eyes twisted at you, maniacal in their ecstasy. But he didn’t laugh. That would have been a release. He held on to the moment and savored it.

Not knowing what to do, you handed him your ten, wet with your sweat, and you walked off, forgetting to wait for change. You went to go sit down, and you tilted your tray, spilling your water all along the table and floor, causing everybody else sitting there to look over at you.

You went over and grabbed a napkin with your stiff limb. You wiped up the mess you made, not very well, and then you sat down, hearing and feeling a moistness on your ass as you did. You lifted your sandwich to your face, taking a bite, as if nothing was the matter. You chewed but you didn’t taste.

He was behind you, and without looking, you could feel him looking down at you, at the back of your head, the smile still there. It was as if he was a giant looking in at you through the window that stretched from one corner to the other. You ate on as if he wasn’t there. The back of your neck and ears were as red as hot coals. When you finished, you got up and walked away without looking back, with a dry throat and nothing to drink to make it wet again.

P.S. (Rabbit and Scout)

Your dad died in the coldest and most remote part of planet earth. He had been there for the past 6 months, doing what he loved, but doing it away from the people he loved. He was researching penguins, the famously monogamous species of bird. They can’t fly, but they can love. Your dad died in his room in the facility put together by the mostly Icelandic research team. He died next to pictures of you and your mom taped all up and down his wall.

He had only one framed photo. It was of him and your mom kissing on their wedding day. You can still hear the silverware clanging against 350 glasses and soup bowls now.

When your neighbor heard the news, from who-knows-who, he leaned in to hug your mom beside your driveway, his arms tight around the small of her back. She hugged him limply with her arms lightly touching his upper back, as little contact as she could get away with giving, and then she pushed him off, hard enough to break his tight grip. As she walked off, he watched her intently, and then told her that if there was anything she needed, he’d be there. His gaze lifted to meet hers when she turned around to give a brisk “thanks,” and when she turned back around to get into the car and leave, his gaze dropped back downward until the goods disappeared behind her car door.

That day, like so many other days, she went to her sister’s to cry with her on her living room couch.

It had been almost a month now since you and your mom heard the news. And it was only now that you had gotten the letter. It appears it was caught in between the wall and the bed of his room in the facility, and it was only found, by luck, when your dad’s replacement got there and began moving the bed to make the room feel more like his own room back home.

You stared down at the letter, taking a moment to open it. When you did, there was a note inside, scribbled on a single piece of line paper in black pen. It didn’t have his name, but you knew it was him. You knew it was him because the writing looked exactly like yours. People used to point that out to you all the time. They’d bring it up whenever they had a nature vs. nurture argument to settle. Nobody ever won the argument with certainty. But when people outside of your family had the same verbal skirmish and they used your mom and your auntie’s bodies as a point of comparison, and a specific part of their bodies in particular, nature took the match. Nurture threw in the towel.

This was your dad’s writing all right, but you had never seen his writing in black before. Your mom only kept purple pens around the house and he wrote with whatever she bought. It was also written on an individual piece of line paper. At your house, all you ever had were notebooks. Everything that needed writing - from messages from phone calls, down to notes left on the fridge, write-ups by your dad, or poetry written by your mom - had those torn rings on the left side, right where it had been ripped out of its notebook and made useful the way paper is destined by its very structure to be.

The world had stopped around you, and you wanted to hold off indefinitely from probing the contents of your dad’s final message to you, but you gritted your teeth and read on.

The message read:

“Hello my darling wife and my precious boy. Maybe if I come off too cheerful in this letter, it’ll be insulting. After all, if you’re getting this, it’s because I’m gone. If I’m not gone, then you probably will never see this. It’ll be burned up in our firepit out back. You’ll ask me what it was and I’ll tell you it’s nothing and I’ll look on at you in the orange glow of the fire and be happy. I miss you guys so much. I shouldn’t be here.

“The reason why I’m taking my time to write this note to you is because I’ve come down with a fever. I’ve never felt this way before and though everyone tells me I’ll be okay, I don’t believe them. You can feel dishonesty in the air sometimes. Especially if you know somebody well enough. And forgive me honey, but your people aren’t good liars. There’s something about that Scandinavian flat-affect. You never lied to me so I couldn’t have picked up on it from you, but your countrymen, being scientists, have had plenty to lie about in the past few months.

“The pictures of their wives back home remind me of you but less pretty. There’s so much about you that’s distinct, like a body out of time and place. Your smile and and your hands and other parts of you that you know I love so much. I know our son is probably reading this and rolling his eyes. You know what was there between me and you was everything. We’ve been through it a million times. To bring it up again in print might cheapen it. Our memories will live on forever. They’ll be the last thing I see before I go. I hope I gave you enough to daydream about when you’re bored. I’m asking that rhetorically. I know that just one memory with you is enough to relive a thousand times over, and I know that for you, you feel the same. I love you, rabbit.

“And now that we can’t form any new memories, you’re going to have to find somebody else to form them with. You’ll shake your head as you read this, but in time you’ll agree with me that you deserve it. Just make sure he’s kind, and smart, and understanding, and - like me - oh-so handsome and irresistible, and that he loves you like I did and still do. I’d press this issue, but I know that in time, you’ll see it my way.

“And to my son, my pride and joy. It’s your job to make sure your mom picks good. We both know she has good taste, after all, you’re the combination of our genetics, but just in case, keep your eyes peeled as much as they were when we’d bird-watch by the lake. You’ll always be my little scout and I know your instincts are good. If you can spot a Spotted Sandpiper from as far as you used to, you can spot a dud when he knocks on the front door with flowers. But like I said, your mom is too smart for you to have to worry about that. She’ll pick somebody like me, except he won’t be stupid enough to leave her for months for his work.

“I’m so proud of you, I can’t even put it into words. I hope in some way, I’ll get to see your future, or some day you can tell me about it. I know you’re a little shy and you sometimes beat yourself up about it. But don’t. Confidence comes from practice and making mistakes. You have your whole life ahead of you and there’s nobody who can stop you. The cards are in your hand, it’s just a matter of playing them.

“I could go on and on forever, but then I would only bore the two of you. It was through you guys that I lived and I loved and through you that I’ll live forever. My rabbit, I love you and, like your beauty and character, that love we shared lives in a place where time and distance have no meaning. My son, I can’t wait til you have kids so you can know what I feel every time I think of you.

“It’s been a beautiful life. Thanks for making it that way. Goodbye.”

You sat on the armchair of your couch in the silence of your living room. It had gotten dark outside and you were now sitting in the twilight. Small parts of the note had been washed away with tears. You got up and wiped your face with a tissue, then you grabbed a pen from the computer desk next to the 3 notebooks sitting one on top of each other. You filled in the smudged words and sentences from memory. Little islands of purple surrounded by black ink. It looked almost as if your dad had written over his own tears marks before sending the letter.

Suddenly, your silent moment was cut short by a banging on the front door. The note and your pen fell to the ground.

You wiped your face once more with your sleeve and you opened the door. It was your neighbor. He had a half-grin on his face, wholly inappropriate for the context of his visit. He asked “Is your mom home?”

“No.”

“Oh. Okay. I thought she’d be home because her car was still here,” he said skeptically, as if you were lying to him.

“That’s what I thought when I came home to. But she texted me and said she was with my aunt, so she probably picked her up.”

“Oh. Okay. Well, when she comes back can you tell her that I’m going to take her to a movie? I just want to cheer her up. A good movie and she’ll be good as new. Tell her ‘no’ is not an option unless the question is ‘do you want butter on your pop corn?’ Tell her we’ll go in her car and remind her to bring money for her ticket. Tell her not to get too fancy. She looks good in everything. Even those comfortable sweatpants she wears on weekend. You know what? Never mind. I’ll come back when she’s home and tell her. I wouldn’t want you screwing it up or anything. Thanks, pal. See ya.”

He turned around and walked off.

You closed the door, and it was as if he was never there. The note, along with its envelope, were on the ground. You knelt down to pick it up, placed it on the computer desk on top of the stack of notebooks, and then you got down on the floor to grab the pen from under the couch.

The forgotten space under the couch looked like a model junk yard. It was your dad who always remembered to move the couch when cleaning. He would never move the couch again. There were plenty of things he’d never do again.

You got back up with the pen in your hand and you picked up the note and envelope, ready to put it all back in place and leave it on the kitchen table for your mom to see. You looked down at the notebooks sitting there. You tapped your foot on the ground as you bit the end of the envelope lightly in your teeth.

A smile formed across your cheeks.

———————————————————

Your mom shut the door behind her. She sighed deeply as she kicked off her shoes, her face puffy from crying. Her sister had held her against her chest as they both cried for hours.

She put her keys into the glass bowl, looked at herself in the mirror, placed her purse on the computer desk, almost tipping over the cup full of pens and she walked into the kitchen.

Suddenly, her eyes were drawn to the foreign element on the table. A white envelope. She saw that it had been opened, and she knew that you had read it and placed it right there where she’d see it, for when it was her turn to see what it was.

It took opening it up to make her start crying again.

When she finally composed herself, she pulled a piece of paper, both sides covered in black ink with interludes in purple, from the envelope.

She read it, and as she did, her crying became more strong, deeper, profound with each sentence read. It was a sweet sound, even with all the sadness. It was the sound of someone receiving closure they never thought they’d see. She shook her head at a few things said in the letter, like he predicted she would, and when it was done, she put it back down and held her hands to her forehead.

She looked over at the envelope and saw another piece of paper sticking out. She pulled it out and looked at it. Written in purple pen it said “this one is just for mom, scout. No peeking.”

Wide-eyed, she opened it up, bright and purple, and she began reading.

It said:

“Hello, rabbit. I was only being facetious in the last note when I talked about being insulting. But with this one, I’m actually worried a little bit. Not too much, because I know you well enough to know that you won’t take it too hard. But I still worry because I fear you won’t be able to do for me what I so desperately want from you. I’m afraid that I won’t even know whether you did it or not where I’m going. Maybe one day, if you don’t live forever, you’ll be able to tell me if you did.

“I kept the last note light on more intimate things for obvious reasons. I didn’t talk about your kiss or your legs or your eyes or that face you make when we’re making love. I didn’t even mention your skin or your toes. I couldn’t even mention your lovely, lovely ass. Oh god how I love your butt, rabbit. We don’t have locks on our doors here, in case of emergencies, so it’s been more than a few times when one of my colleagues burst into my room as I was “having fun” thinking about doing all the things that I’ve done to it, you know what they are. The thing is, every time they caught me, they didn’t have to wonder or take wild swings at what I was so “excited” about.

“I’m not sure how to say this. This isn’t the hardest thing I’ve written on these two pages, that would be telling you to move on (Hard but still necessary if you’re trying to look for excuses not too. Nice try, little lady) but it’s the hardest to know how to express properly. In fact, this isn’t hard at all from my end, it’s knowing how you’re going to take it, or if you’re going to do what I so desperately need you to do, that’s hard on me. I’m sweating as a write this. I’m trembling with anxiety. Please, just listen with an open mind. You always were so open to my ways. This is the deepest part of me I’ve always been too afraid to show you.

“The reason why my colleagues know what it is that got me so hot and bothered those days they caught me, was because they themselves had seen it with their own eyes. Plastered all over my walls. It was your ass. Not just over my walls, but in their personal collections as well, I had given them photos of you to look at it, first under the pretext that I was trying to show off how good I have it, but then just because I wanted them to see you.

“Before you get too mad at me, just know that I haven’t given them any of your naked pictures. I wanted to so bad. Show them their countrywoman’s ass. But I couldn’t do it without you knowing. Oh, my rabbit, I know you can’t be mad at me, but I need you to listen. This is as important as what I said about you moving on and finding a new man to make you happy. Before you do that, I want need you to do this.

“I wanted to share you for as long as we’d been together. I wanted it more than anything, rabbit, but I’ve always been too afraid to ask. I’m such a coward. The strange thing is, that I feel like you would have done it. I know you love me that much. I missed so many chances though, all because I couldn’t bring myself to bring it up even once. And the feelings built and built, as I met your former family friends and men that faded in and out of your life, some you liked well enough as people, others you didn’t. And then something happened that brought it all to the edge of a cliff. An exhilarating but frightening view.

“I know you love me enough to bare with me. Our neighbor moved in, we had him over for dinner, and he leaned in close for a hug from you. And ever since then, I could never see your face explode with pleasure inches from mine without wanting so badly for him to see that face inches from his. More importantly, I wanted him to feel what it was like having your big, fat, white ass in his lap as his cock is engulfed by your pussy. I’m so sorry rabbit for being so vulgar, but I have to say it. It’s eating me up inside.

“He’s never even got to see the tattoo your sister gave you. The guys back ther  here have all seen it because of the bikini pics. But he’s never even seen you in jean shorts since you stopped wearing them. God, I miss being with you in jean shorts. All the turned heads. That’s my third request, wear those more often. But I haven’t even gotten to make second request. Oh, please, rabbit, just read this with an open mind and understand.

“Our neighbor is going to get your ass, no strings attached. I’m only being this firm as an emergency measure. I know, deep down as well as I know every inch of your body and mind, that it’s unnecessary. He would have had your ass already if I was brave enough to say something earlier. I’m brave enough now in writing. I’m begging you to let him fuck you, but I’m only begging as a formality. I know you’re always eager to follow me down my rabbit holes. This will be my last one, I promise.

“I know you’ll do this for me, do this for him, because you love me so. It’s only a matter of when. Your love for me kept me strong out here. Your love warmed me through the harsh weather. And though i couldn’t feel the warmth of your body, he will. No strings attach. No work or investment or anything. Just give it to him. And give it to him whenever he asks. Even after you find the lucky man who is going to marry you and whisk you away to a new string of memories and moments like the ones we were so lucky to share with each other, still give your ass to our neighbor when he asks for it. Do it even when he doesn’t. Don’t tell him that I told you to. Find out what he likes and do it for him or get better at it. Let him take pictures and videos if he wants so he can show you off to those guys he has for his poker night every weekend.

“I hope there is a heaven, and if there is, I hope it has windows so I can watch you down there. And if not, I hope I can watch you as a spirit just like your sister always talks about.

“Also, a third fourth request. I know I’ve asked for so much already, but you’re a champ and I know you can do all of it. Record some nice videos and maybe some photos and send them to your Icelandic countrymen out at here at the base. I promised that I’d give that to them as soon as I got the guts to ask you. Better late than never. For patriotism. Let them see their Icelandic sister’s ass. I want them to see all types of pictures of it.

“So, to end the saucy half of my farewell to you off I just want to say that every night with you was heaven. I shouldn’t have been so lucky. Just one night with you should have been a reward after death for living a good life, but I got to have that every night for my most of my adult life. Thanks for everything, beautiful. Now it’s somebody else’s turn.

“And if you can’t bring yourself to move on and marry another man, I think you’re making a mistake, but I guess it’s possible to live a happy and full life without it so I can let it slide. But my life will never be full if I don’t get to share your ass with him. So that’s non-negotiable. Like I said, my firmness is a last resort. I know it probably isn’t necessary because you’re amazing. I love you, babe and that’ll never not be true even after I’m gone.

“But maybe your countrymen are right. Maybe I’m not that sick and this whole message was just the panic of a feverish mind. Maybe I’ll be back there to ask you this in person and watch your ass bounce as he fucks you. I probably will. I can’t wait. I’ve never been more excited to feel stupid. But if I’m as smart, and as good a judge of character, as you say I am, goodbye. It’s been better than it had any right to be. Maybe I’ll see you again some day, rabbit.”

————————————————————

You heard your mom when she came in the house. She sighed heavily as she kicked off her shoes. You heard her keys jingle as she placed them in the bowl. You lay on your bed silently.

You heard her muffled footsteps into the kitchen and suddenly a pause. Sobbing followed for a while. And then you heard the paper ruffling. More sobbing is what came next. And then suddenly, there was a silence. And some more paper ruffled, but the crying wasn’t there to keep it company. And you sat in the silence, listening, waiting for a sign, looking down at your nervous hands shuffling, covered in purple ink from the pen that broke as you pressed it too hard to the paper. One of the two failed drafts sitting next to you bore the result of that purple burst, making it look like a inkblot test. No need to say what you saw in that vague purple image.

You listened for a sign. A sign of anything. A sound of biting or accepting. Even disgust if necessary to end the unbearable silence. And that sound came. It came with a bang. You jumped. It was the front door.

You heard your mom’s chair scrape and her muffled footsteps and then a considerable pause, and then the door opened.

Your mom said “yes?”

It was your neighbor: “Did your son tell you?’

“About the letter?”

“No, I didn’t leave a letter. I just wanted him to tell you that I was taking you to the movies tonight.”

A long pause followed.

He continued “You can’t say no. That’s the rule. I hope you have money for your ticket. Popcorn is cheaper though. I have a coupon from the mail. We have to hurry though, otherwise we won’t have seats and you’ll have to sit on my lap.” He laughed really hard at his joke. Then his laughter died down and there was silence. “What’s the matter? You can’t come? Do you have a boyfriend who won’t let you? Your husbands out of the way but you have a boyfriend already?” he laughed again. Tone-deaf, in both senses of the word.

You could hear your mom shuffling in place. She didn’t say a word.

“You know, I only wanted to invite you because I felt bad for you. I was sad when I heard about your husband dying. I didn’t know him well, but I had a great time when we had dinner that first night. I think he got the wrong idea though, like I was trying to steal you away from him. And since then he’s kept you guys away from me. I’m just a friend. And as a friend I want to take your mind of your husband with a movie. It’s not sexual or anything. I already have a girlfriend. I just don’t bring her around when you’re home.” He paused for a second, then bursted in again with “W-we have an open relationship. So if I ever did bring another girl home, it would be cool. I’m not sure why I’m telling you that though. I guess so you won’t be concerned about seeing her out and about. If she saw us, she probably would think it was sexual but it would be cool.”

The silence was deafening.

“So what do you say? Do you want to go to the movies with me? If you don’t go, I won’t make it for this showing because I’ll have to take the bus.”

“No.”

He was silent for once.

You lay in the darkness of your room, holding onto your sheets, pulling at them, making them tight along your bed.

Your mom continued: “Let’s just go to your place.” You could tell that it took her a lot to force that sentence out by the tone of her voice. He couldn’t pick up on that though. Either that, or he didn’t care. This would be the least hard thing she’d force herself to do today.

"O-okay.”

The door closed behind them.

Your dad’s pet-name for you was Scout. He came up with it when the two of you went bird-watching together. He said it was because you were good at seeing things most people couldn’t, not just birds, but trails through the thick vague treeline.

It was funny, because you didn’t seem to inherent that from either of your parents. Or you did, but not to that degree.

Your dad was analytical and scientific. Your mom was creative and intuitive. You somehow had both these traits, but you had it even more than they did. And deep down you knew that’s why they both ended up where they currently were right this second.

And that’s why you were here to enjoy it.

You remember once, standing out in the woods near a waterfall. Your dad had taken another way around and had yet to make it there. Over the thick sound of the falls you could hear a tiny chirping noise. It didn’t take you long to see that bluebird, brighter than any blue you had ever seen, sitting on a branch on the other side of the river.

Just as your dad came up behind you, the bird disappeared into the wild woods that birthed it. You thought about telling him about what you saw. But you silently decided you wouldn’t. That moment would be all yours.

Chapter 1 of my new novel, Fresh, is now up on Literotica!

Freshis an interracial cuckolding novel about a young couple arriving to campus together for their freshman year.  Leah begins to discover a new and exciting sexuality blooming inside of her, and it doesn’t help her boyfriend Drew’s anxiety that he’s rooming with the star of the football team.

Clickhereto read it, and if you enjoy my work, please send me a note!

Check out my new story on Literotica, Mom in a Strange Land 

Sneak peek here:

Gerry was visiting Lovakistan with his young mother Trisha. Gerry had just graduated high school, and since he wasn’t accepted to any colleges, his mom decided to help his bruised feelings by taking him on a backpacking trip in a foreign land. Unfortunately, neither the lackluster Gerry nor his single-mom Trisha had enough money to take them to a beautiful city like Dubai or Paris, so they were stuck in more obscure exotic countries like Lovakistan.

When the plane landed, both Gerry and his mom felt a strong wave of culture shock. All the women there were covered in dark robes from head to toe, with barely a slit for the eyes. The website Trisha had researched had said that foreigners were not expected to obey all the local customs, but as they walked through the terminal they realized there were only locals there.

Gerry looked at his mom and felt the rough scrape of embarrassment. His buxom mom was dressed in a v-neck t-shirt with prominent cleavage. Next to the local women, her tits were attracting a lot of attention.

Gerry’s mom was very dedicated to fitness and spent a lot of time at the gym. This gave her a very slim physique that hid her age very well. Guys who saw her with her son often assumed they were brother and sister. They never said boyfriend and girlfriend, only because Gerry was so obviously unfit to date someone as hot as his busty slim mother.

They loaded their bags into a dingy car that took them through the city to their hostel.

See more over at Literotica:  Mom in a Strange Land