I never knew my mom to be the cheating variety.

Despite being in her belated 40s, she was still a bombshell of a adult female - tall, with a head to the full of untamable red curls, mischievous emerald eyes, voluptuous to the full point she only wore custom-fitted clothes, my mom was incredibly desirable.

So of course there were plenty of guy, some honest-to-goodness, nigh of them younger, who often tried to hit on her. They'd buy her boozing at bars and restaurants, catcall her from their car, even construction prole would seize their dicks through their begrime work jean to usher off some darn impressive packages, but mom would always laugh them all off and slump their advances, pointing at the Brobdingnagian rock on her finger. A man had already seen her stunner and her kind mortal and decided to claim her as his own and my mom has always been loyal to him.

She'd been married for almost ten year now to a guy who basically worshipped the footing she walked on. Not to observe that she and Tom, my dad, always seemed to be as in love now as they had been when they had first of all met. They never argued. They never slept in separate elbow room or bed. They never so a lot as looked at each other with anything but love. And, as embarrassing as it was to say it, well, if my hearing served me well, they were still having respectable sum of money of sex every week too.

My mom was the image, the very definition, even, of the proper housewife. The moment she got engaged, she quit her day job and has been instead working hard for us. She cooked us repast from scratch every day, she kept the house clean and warm, and she was totally dedicated to her duties.

I've always wanted to be just like her and to find myself a man to love me just the way dad loved her.

Until now, that was.

My cheerleading recitation had ended early and I had rushed straight home, bore to tell my mom that Nick, the guy I've had a crush on since forever had finally asked me out. I was so ecstatic, I couldn't wait to share my awesome news.

What I found when I got home, however, ripped the joy from my chest, stole my breath away, deafened me to anything that might have been happening remote. As of a few seconds ago, mere moments really, my entire world had been reduced to my menage's kitchen and what was going on between its four wall. My beautiful, constantly expanding, always sunny macrocosm, was now reduced to these unspeakable things. These disloyal, disgraceful, distasteful… horrible… things that were taking place.

And defective of all, after all had been said and done, I feared that what I was seeing and hearing now was going to bankrupt my estimable feelings towards my mom forever.

She was with some man I hadn't seen before and he was fondling her white meat. He had her trapped between his massive frame and the kitchen island.

I wished I could say I was witnessing a rape.

Visually, everything matched.

This mountain of a guy clearly wasn't from around here. His skin was darker. Maybe he was tanned, he looked like he'd been out in the sun all day and not in a dainty office, working a boring 9-to-5 job, like nearly of our neighbours. He was also wearing meretricious, ill-fitted jeans, and a white wifebeater. His thick arms and broad chest were full of basic, stereotypical tattoos. He looked like some spine alley thug, like he'd barged in here to slip our TV and when he found my mom, likely scared and concealment in some corner, he decided to help himself to her defenseless body too, while he was at it.

And for her part, my mom looked pretty ravaged, what with her smutch lipstick, her runny mascara, her pleading, mewling, voice and the way his rough, soiled hands were kneading her flesh. It looked uncomfortable, even awful. It made my breasts ache just from watching him do these things to her. He then even pulled out her pap to give ear over the top of her dress and slapped them, making me recoil.

But despite all this, it clearly wasn't a rape.

She wasn't fighting him off. At all. On the contrary, she was pushing her ass against the man's crotch and had even reached out a bridge player to take hold of his head as he kissed her neck, leaving a trail of saliva on her White River skin.

"Please, you can't be here,"she whispered, optic closed in pure delectation."Tell me where to come and I will."

"Oh, I know you will hail,"the man chuckled."I know that because I will fucking pass water you come in more than one way."

Through the fabric of her summertime attire, he cupped her mound and she let out another mewl.

I wanted to say something, to puddle them stop, to tell her not to hitch up her dress for this dude. To beg her not to do this, and certainly not like this, not in our home, not on the board she made dad his lunch boxes.

"You're so mean."

"Why is that, Lindsay ? Afraid your pussy husband is going to find out about me ? Or the verity about the sort of cleaning lady he married ? You're anything but a saint, baby. In fact, you have been really juicy and I think you deserve to be punished."

I closed my middle, wishing I could unsee and unhear all this. It was horrifying enough that they were fucking behind dad's back, so why mock him that way too ? He was anything but a puss. He was better than both of them put together, the lying trickster and her dirty punk.

"I'm so sad, Curtis,"she cried out and it came out half-pained, half-moaned."I know I did you wrong. Punish me. damage my pussy. wrack it, Curtis. I want you to deflower me for former men, re-claim me as yours."

Curtis, she'd said his gens was, had his hired hand inside her panties, getting her wet and cook. She was trembling in his arms, letting out belittled pained cries, but still rubbing herself against him like a cat in high temperature. Whatever he was doing to her down there, she was into it and I could hardly stomach it.

"It's alright, babe,"he said, playing with my mom's organic structure as if he owned it.

I had to inquire how long this had been going on. It didn't look like a first time to me. He knew her consistency, what made her moan, what made her yelp. He was an artist and she was his art. Grotesque to watch, but unacceptable to plough away from.

"I shouldn't have expected you to wait for me to get out. cunt like you need constant dicking. You were loose back then, you're loose now still. If I tried, I think I could fit my total fist in this cunt of yours. Dude must either be hung like a horse or sharing you with half the metropolis. Is that how you've paid for this house, babe ? On your back, stage spread, dripping the preciously cum men gifted you ?"

"Don't say thing like that, delight,"she begged, panting."I'm not… I am still Charles Frederick Worth fucking. I am not loose. Tom paid for everything we have and of course he got to fuck me, what else did I have to offer ? You know that. Please, Curtis, I am begging you !"

"Your wet pussy says otherwise. It says you're addicted to prance and that you have it on the regular. Cock-sucking strumpet, I bet you're officious than a street corner working girl."

"Curtis, I am not a slut ! I don't just fuck anyone, not anymore. I am a mom now. I had to sell my kitty for savannah to subsist a good life-time, but I only sold it to one man. Please don't outcry me a slut…"

"Shut up, I can speak to you any way I want to. You're lucky that I still sleep with you and that I'm still being nice. You gave this fucker my slit. Mine. And you're saying it to my boldness. You're the same as before."

"Please. You don't understand, I only did this because I had to, for savannah, I had to, I am a good-"

He cut her off."You owe me, like I said, so that's why it's mulct. You be married to whomever, this well-used pussy is going to serve us both. I can part. I can stick it up your ass too, if you can't get me off with your main hole. As long as you let me use you, he doesn't have to love the truth. See how nice I am ? You can have your cake and eat it too : pretend you're a fucking saint, continue to frivol away everyone, but the truth is what I know it to be. So shut the shtup up because my cock craves some ass and you're going to satisfy me."

His ugly words, the nonchalant tone he used, the shit-eating grin he was sporting, all of it made me need to hold up. Why did mom owe this creature anything ? Why was she letting him speak to her this way ? How did they even know each former ?

But as often as my outrage grew, it was nothing compared to the way my mom broke down in this stranger's weapon. She was cumming hard and he was the entirely thing keeping her upright and in one composition. Her orgasm was so violent and overpowering, it rendered her incoherent and ineffectual to ascertain herself. She was howling and flailing and cursing. When she was finally calming down, he licked her tear-stained impertinence and grinned.

"A fornicatress is always going to be a slut, infant. All one needs to be shown that the true is a firm hand wrapped around her throat and the other one working its finger's breadth deep in her twat. I know what makes you tick. I always have. That's why you're still trying to get my cock, even if you're married. You need me to get you feel like a woman."

"Okay, William Curtis,"she said, panting."You win. You made me cum and yes, I want your cock. I will never say no to you using me for sex. I know where I stand, and that is at your infantry, at your disposal. But Tom is going to be home soon, he really can't discovery you here. What if he figures it out and he-"

William Curtis laughed one of those mocking laughs. The audio of it made me shudder.

"But find me here, he will. I have nowhere else to go, thanks to you. I gave up so practically for your ass, now it's time to come back my sacrifice. I am going to stay on and meet the man. I will even accept your gracious dinner invitation. Maybe you'll let me live here for a spell. But first off, I need to get some veridical action. It's been a while, as you can probably guess."

Mom shook her headway."Please, William Curtis. Please go. I promise I will do whatever you want, just don't… don't fuck me now."

He turned her around and pushed down on her foreland. She wordlessly obeyed and knelt before him.

"These utmost fifteen geezerhood, I've always had to watch my every move, what I said, how I breathed. I slept with an eye open, always waiting for the other skid to drop. You're going to have a mouthful of what that's been like. I'm going to love you, Lindsay, and you're going to have me over for dinner and look your husband in the eye like I didn't just empty my ballock in your ridiculously over-used pussy. I am going to be your guest and you will have to act normal around us both. You don't want to end up on the streets again, do you ? Think about your daughter."

"William Curtis, this is… Savannah River is your daughter too. Do you hate me this much ? That you're willing to adventure her wellbeing ?"

She sounded like she was on the brink of tears. I almost felt sorry for her, but all she was really upset about was the voltage of dad finding out and kicking her out, so she could get bent for all I cared. Tom… he would never kick me out along with her and after today, I would never follow her out that door either. For the first of all time ever, I felt that if I had to choose between her and dad, I was going to choose dad.

"No, Lindsay, I love you. I've always thought you were my char, despite everything. But I hate that fucker you tried to replace me with. I saw him leave alone this daybreak. Pasty Andrew D. White asshole, I could break him in half. He's not worthy of you or this house you live in. You'll see."

"He's a fine-"

"You talk too much,"he said and began to unbuckle his belt."Suck my putz and don't period until I tell you to. Get it ready for your pussy."

I did not intend to stand up there and actually ascertain my mom cheat on my dad. I had heard and seen more than I had wanted to as it was.

In my boot to entrust, though, I nearly knocked over a porcelain vase. I caught it just in prison term, but when I looked back to see if they'd heard me, which of track they did, Curtis'contraband eyes had locked onto my cat valium ones.

***

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