AN EROTIC PICARESQUE
A couple of days later I was with Mum and we were getting down to it and her delicious dirty mouth was getting to work on my cock, when she suddenly stopped gobbling me off and got hold of my balls and pulled them and dug her nails in. Yeeouch...she was not just playing around...it fucking hurt!
'What are you doing that for?' I screamed.
'I'm gonna ask you a question and you are gonna answer me. I want the trewf!'
Whatever it was going to take to avoid castration without anaesthetic, I would do it; except tell the truth.
'Let go, you crazy bitch!' I roared at her.
She didn't, but she released her grip a little.
''Ave you fucked me daughter?'
'What!' I said, amazed; 'no, of course I haven't.
She let go and said, 'I don't believe yer, but that I can live with; but not me mum. If you've fucked that old 'ore I really will rip yer bollocks off. And yer cock. And I'll feed them to the fuckin' dogs.' Her voice was cracking and then she broke down.
I sat stunned. How did she know? What did she know? Or was she just fishing? Silence was my best defence until I knew more. I stayed silent.
She lit herself a cigarette and went and sat on the sofa. Her legs were apart and her pussy looked deliciously inviting, even then. She saw me looking and closed them and said, 'there's none of that fer you until yer tell me.'
'Of course I haven't,' I lied.
She didn't believe me.
We sat and silence and I tried to think clearly. Then I thought of something.
'It's strange what you said. Most women would rip a man's balls off if he cheated on her with her daughter or her mother, or any other woman for that matter. What's the difference?'
'There is a difference,' she said; 'for us, anyway.'
I had pressed the right button.
I remembered what Daughter had said; family secrets, dirty little secrets. I was about to be told; I could feel it, and it was going to be big, not little.
Between sobs she blurted it all out. I had been right. She had had a chance when she had been young. She had a boyfriend. He had been from a different part of town. He had money and he was going to college and he wanted to take her with him. She would get a job in the city where he went to college. They would get married and live happily ever after. They had been together for nearly two years and it was a month before he would leave for college and she would go with him. One afternoon she came home early and found him sitting on the sofa. He was naked. Her mum was on top of him and his cock was right up her pussy. They were fucking. She later found out they had been doing it for a few months by then. She ran from the house, and as far as she was concerned her life was fucked. No more boyfriend and no escape. And all thanks to her own mother.
She told me everything; how she got a job working in a bar in town and before long she was one of the strippers and not long after that she was a prostitute. Stripping and selling herself had been her living. She did a bit when she needed to. And she still blamed her mother for ruining her life and neither of them had got past it. It was the answer to all of the questions.
I didn't mind any of it; the stripping, the whoring, and it all fitted. She was the real thing; she didn't just look like a whore; she really was one. It turned me on. I wanted her even more and my prick got rock hard again. She was amazed. We were still sitting there naked and she was telling me the horror story of her life and all I could do was get an even bigger hard on than usual. She seemed to be full of joy and full of anger and full of sadness all at the same time. I reached for her and held her to me, and we had sex again, but it was less wanton and more tender this time. I liked it, but I hoped we were not going to lose the wildness. I needn't have worried.
All I said afterwards was that they needed to get everything sorted out between them. She said I was right and that she would talk to her mum. They had never discussed what had happened, just sniped at each other for years; so that underneath the happy family exterior, it was all resentment and spite and hatred.
After that, I didn't see her for about a week. She said she would call me after she had talked to her mum about everything. Then the call came, and she seemed happy and she invited me over for Saturday night.
I knew something was going on even early on that evening. Mum and I had dinner and champagne, which she had asked me to bring; she was developing expensive tastes, and usually, once the meal was over, she would be on me like a wild animal. But that night, she just seemed to want to sit around chatting and smoking and drinking up the champagne and then move on to her vodka and Redbull. She just kept saying that nice things were worth waiting for. She had that characteristic twinkle in her eye so I knew she had something lined up. But I couldn't guess what it was going to be.
At about ten, there was the sound of a key in the door. It could only be Daughter and Grandma, or the pair of them together. It was the pair of them. I knew even before they got into the living room from their squawking that they were both there. I could hear what thye were saying.
'Gran, you reckon they've already started. We might walk in and find 'er suckin' 'is knob!'
'Better not. I told 'er to wait for the cavalry to arrive.'
Well, the cavalry's 'ere now, and I'm the general.'
'Hi!' I said, as they came in to the living room. Then I turned to Mum and asked 'what are they doing here? You mean ... no fun tonight?'
Grandma heard me and said
'Nah darlin' ... more fun than you' ever 'ad before in yer life. All free of us, all night long and all day tomorra an' all!'