The Outsider

This was previously released under my account, but I always felt that it was AlternativeAnon's story. The original story idea and the characters were his creation, and I had only hoped to help him shape his story into a more polished final product. I failed to include some elements we had discussed and it showed in the original version. Many of the criticisms of the original version were valid, and I hope this edited version addresses those issues.

-LexxRuthless

This version of The Outsider further develops the family dynamic of the original story, and addresses many of the constructive criticisms provided. This story is a collaborative work between Lexx and I, and I would like to thank Cassie for her editing and criticism. I hope you enjoy.

-AlternativeAnon

* * * * *

The doorbell made me jump. It was unexpected, and regardless of who it was I knew it had to be trouble. I slowly made my way over to the front door, trying not to make a sound. It probably wasn't the police, though part of me would have preferred that. A glance through the peephole in the door revealed what I had dreaded.

My mother was standing outside. She was wringing her hands, and her face bore a deeply anxious look. I withdrew from the door and swore under my breath. I didn't know how she'd found me. If she was here, Uncle Chuck and Dad had to be nearby. Part of me expected them to just kick down the door.

My gut reaction was to fucking book it out the patio door and hop the fence, to just run. I felt a slight weakness in my legs as I considered it. I had nowhere to go and the sun had already set. If I tried to find a hostel I could probably stay there a few weeks, but I'd eat through my savings in no time.

The doorbell rang again, followed quickly by an intent knocking. She was hardly going to quit.

"Peter, please let me in," she begged through the door. "I just want to talk, and I won't make you come home if you don't want to. I came alone. Nobody else knows I'm here."

I blew out a huge breath and stared blankly at the doorknob. My expression was grim as I flipped on the lights and opened the front door to let her inside. Mom looked as nervous as I felt when she walked through the doorway and looked at me. It was tough for me to look her in the eye after what I had seen the past month. I kept picturing her naked and sweating as she...

I closed the front door and locked it, doing my best to block the images of my mother as I led her to the living room and turned on the overhead lights. She looked around and nodded in approval before taking a seat on the couch. I sat on a recliner facing her across the coffee table.

"You've kept the place tidy," she commented.

Her chuckle was hollow, and she was trembling visibly. My mother's discomfort was contagious. I bit my lip nervously and nodded, feeling the knotted muscles in my lower back as I leaned forward in my seat. I was ready to leap out of that comfortable chair and make a run for it if I had to. Mom knew me well enough that she could tell I wasn't in the mood for small talk. She sighed and nodded.

"I'll get to the point," she said. "I'm sorry you had to find out the way you did. Maybe we should have told you, but I really wanted you to have a chance at a normal life. Don't get me wrong; I love the life I have with our special family. But it comes at a high cost. I never wanted you to have to pay that price, Peter."

She had said something to that effect a week earlier. I still wasn't buying it. She looked at me and shook her head sadly before letting out a long sigh of exasperation.

"I guess I have to tell you the whole story before you'll understand," she said. "You know how my parents died, and how Chuck took care of me afterwards."

* * *

I had heard the story so many times I could picture it clearly in my mind. It felt like I had been there. My mom and her older brother, Chuck, were standing forlornly next to the graves of their parents. A drunken trucker had dozed off behind the wheel of his big rig, swerving across the median and obliterating my grandparents. My great-aunt Margaret and my great-grandmother had been in attendance for the funeral. They were all of the family that was left.

Margaret's ex-husband had been an insurance salesman. He had sold insurance to everyone in the family and all of their friends before he bailed on his wife. The house was paid off by that insurance. Great grandma wanted to sell the house and have my mom and Chuck move in with her. My mother was still in shock, unable to stop crying. Uncle Chuck was only sixteen, and he flat-out refused to sell the house.

"It's all we have left of them. I'm not about to let it go," he insisted.

"Don't be a fool, Charles," Great grandma scolded. "Think about your sister."

It was exactly the wrong thing to say. I can just picture him losing his shit. Sorry; I guess I should say, "I can picture him coming unglued," or something like that. But if you knew Uncle Chuck...he lost his shit.

"I

am

thinking about my sister," he hissed, wrapping an arm around her defensively. "The house is paid for, and we have a little bit of money. I'll get a job and we'll be just fine. I won't let anybody hurt my little sister, ever. That includes you, Grandma. Got it?"

I never met her. Great grandma passed away just a couple of years before I was born. I've seen pictures of her, though. She still had that fiery red hair that was the hallmark of the women in my family, well into her eighties. I can practically see her facing off against Uncle Chuck right there in the cemetery and having it out right on the spot, over the fresh graves of her son and daughter-in-law.

Eventually, they would make up. Uncle Chuck ruefully admitted that without his grandmother's help, they never would have made it. He worked hard to make sure they kept the house their parents had left to them. I wound up growing up in that house.

* * *

All that ran through my head in an instant as I nodded and watched my mother carefully. She had a faraway look in her eye, and I could tell she was reliving the story in her mind as she told it to me.

"Chuck was so brave and strong for me," she said softly. "It wasn't until I was eighteen that I really started to appreciate how much he had sacrificed his own life—his own happiness—so I could have a normal childhood. You know he dropped out of school and went to work to support us," she said, looking at me again, "but that was when I realized he hadn't dated anyone in at least six years. He had bought the company by then."

I knew Uncle Chuck had worked for a small construction firm, and that he bought the company before he turned twenty-one. But everybody knew that. Uncle Chuck's life was a well-known "rags to riches" story. What my mother told me next was the part of the story nobody knew.

"By the time I was eighteen and had started trying to date; I started getting really frustrated with the guys who asked me out," she said, shaking her head in disgust. "Sometimes I wonder how different my life would have been if I didn't have such big breasts. Three guys in a row asked me out and then started pawing at my breasts as soon as we were alone. The last guy didn't stop even when I yelled at him to leave me alone. I wound up hopping out of his car and walking home."

As she spoke, my eyes wandered down to my mother's impressive chest. The dress she was wearing was conservative and did nothing to show off her curves, but there was no disguising the sheer size of her bust no matter what she wore. She noticed my gaze on her breasts and smiled softly.

"My brother didn't expect me to come home from my date so early," she continued. "I was already seething when I walked in the door, thinking that every guy in the world besides my brother was just a horny animal. There he was, sitting on the couch masturbating." She smiled and shook her head. "I snapped at him. I said, 'What is wrong with you guys? You're all a bunch of pigs!' or something like that. He was so embarrassed. I couldn't help but stare at his prick as he tried to stuff it back in his pants.

"He started apologizing and blushing, and it took a while to calm him down. When he explained that he thought I would be gone longer, I thought it was a lame excuse. But that was when I realized he had not dated once that I could remember. Chuck was struggling to apologize and explain, but I suddenly regretted yelling at him. I had seen how hard he had worked to support us, and I knew he had sacrificed his childhood so I could enjoy mine. I felt like I needed to make it up to him, almost out of nowhere. I pulled out his dick and gave him a blowjob."

"Just like that?" I asked.

"Well, he tried to stop me. He objected, even once I had him in my mouth. But he really needed it." Once again, her eyes got a faraway look as she recalled sucking her brother's cock. My nose caught the now-familiar scent of my mother's arousal. "It took two weeks before he stopped fighting me and let me suck him off every night. It took another month before I convinced him to fuck me. After that, though, it just got better and better. By the time I graduated high school, we were having sex every chance we got. Chuck had to talk me into going to college. I didn't want to leave."

I swallowed hard as I considered the implications. College was where she met my dad. It felt like my whole life flashed in front of my eyes.

* * *

I knew that my mom and dad had moved in with Chuck and Danni after they graduated. My mother and father kept the place after they got married, while my uncle and his wife lived in a good-sized apartment in the city proper. It was still about a two-hour drive from their place to ours, and that was if the traffic was good. It rarely was.

My parents and Aunt Danni all teach. Mom teaches English and Reading classes in our middle school, and Dad teaches Social Studies and History at the high school. He also coaches the basketball team. When I am wearing the tank top and shorts, I call him "Coach" instead of "Dad." Aunt Danni teaches at the community college in the city. It isn't your usual collegiate curriculum—she teaches remedial reading and English for Speakers of Other Languages. It's a community outreach program, and I understand she is very good at it. I know from listening to her talk that she loves her job.

My older sister, Giselle, has that same mane of fiery red curls that my mom and Uncle Chuck do. I got my dad's straighter sandy-colored hair instead. Because Giselle is so outspoken and temperamental, I tend to be more reserved just to balance things out.

Our families remained close throughout my childhood. Our cousin Tommy is just a few months older than me. We have been more like brothers than cousins for most of our lives. Unfortunately, he was a full year ahead of me in high school and graduated before this summer started. Even though I'm eighteen, I still have another year of school. Like Tommy, most of my friends were a year ahead of me in school.

I had been held back a year, repeating the seventh grade. I had been sick a lot that year. I got the flu twice, my tonsils got infected and required emergency surgery to remove them, and I broke my arm. That was spread out over the school year, but it meant that I was constantly behind. When I was told I would have to repeat the seventh grade, I felt like I wanted to curl up and die. I felt like a failure.

Over the next few years, though, it felt more like a blessing. I went from being one of the smaller kids in my grade and constantly behind in my studies to being one of the bigger kids. I was motivated to constantly be ahead in my classes—I certainly didn't want to be held back again. That was great, until this year. I got to attend my friends' graduation ceremony and then we were in the city for Tommy's graduation two days later. It felt like they were all leaving me behind.

But...this was just the latest thing that left me feeling a growing sense of isolation. Within my own family, it had been going on for some time. It was tough for me to put a finger on what was happening; I just felt like there was something going on and I was being left out of it.

* * *

Uncle Chuck had retired a fairly rich man when I was very young. After facing dire financial hardship for the first few years after my grandparents died, he had worked his way into management for a construction firm. He worked hard and developed a very shrewd business mind. When the opportunity presented itself, he was in a position financially to buy the company outright. He secured a business loan with his own money and the house as collateral.

Because he had worked at the lowest levels of the business, he was aware of several ways the company had been losing money. The first thing he did when he took over was to institute new policies to put an end to those wasteful practices. He did not hesitate to fire a handful of people who violated his new policies. It earned him a reputation as a real "hard ass" but that only made his job easier. His company started making a lot more money, and he improved the reputation of the firm enough to secure two major construction contracts with the city and the state.

It was those lucrative contracts that got the company noticed. Three larger construction companies offered to buy his firm just to secure the rights to those contracts, and they wound up bidding against each other. Uncle Chuck took the best offer and walked away from his company a multimillionaire at the age of thirty-one. He invested his money wisely and didn't put on any airs. To those of us who had known him a long time, he was the same guy he had always been. He just didn't have to work anymore.

With his wife and my parents teaching, we all had summers off to go on vacation together. When we weren't at a resort or theme park somewhere, we all stayed at our house. Our families were tremendously close as far back as I could remember. When one of my parents wasn't around, I could always count on my aunt or uncle if I needed anything. Giselle was as much a big sister to Tommy as she was to me.

We had family vacation photos stretching back more than a decade. In every one of them, Tommy stood between Giselle and me, with all four of our parents standing behind us. It had been so much fun growing up in my family. Looking at those pictures recently had made me feel like I had lost something.

* * *

Two years ago, it was the first time we hadn't gone anywhere as a family for the summer. Instead, my parents sent me to a summer camp for six weeks right in the middle of the summer vacation. I had been excited to go. There were a ton of cool activities every day, and it was a lot of fun. However, since Giselle had graduated from high school, she did not go with me and Tommy to that camp.

Shortly after we got back from camp, Chuck, Danni, and Tommy all left. Three days later, my sister went away to college. My parents seemed a little distant, but I couldn't figure out why. That feeling passed by the time the school year started and I managed to put it out of my mind. I was merely bothered because we had not enjoyed our summer as a family the way we had every summer before.

Then last summer rolled around. My parents signed me up for the same summer camp without even asking me if I wanted to go. Since I knew Tommy wouldn't be going, I told them I really didn't want to. I didn't want to be there by myself. My parents seemed really agitated. They didn't make me go, but it was obvious they would have been happier if I had. That bothered the hell out of me, but again I couldn't figure out why.

We stayed at the house and didn't go anywhere as a family, so I spent a lot of last summer hanging out with my friends. Over the course of that summer, I kept getting the feeling that Tommy was ditching me and my friends. There was always a reason that he couldn't go with us or suddenly had to leave. None of that seemed contrived, but it seemed to happen a lot.

Then there were a dozen times my family members were talking quietly and abruptly broke off their conversation when I approached them. I never overheard anything to give me a clue what was going on, but I had this nagging feeling I was missing something important.

I was beginning to feel like an outsider in my own home, with my own family.

Halfway through last summer, my dad and Uncle Chuck remodeled the front room. They added a hide-a-bed sofa and turned it into a nice den for watching sports. Tommy wound up staying in that room instead of sharing my upstairs bedroom. This summer, he was once again sleeping downstairs.

* * *

Two nights after my sister arrived home from college I finally figured out what had been going on. I had just about fallen asleep when I heard Giselle sneaking down the stairs. I thought it was odd, since we had our own bathroom upstairs. When I heard giggling from downstairs, I got out of my bed to see what was going on. As far as I knew, everyone else had gone to bed.

As I usually did during the summer, I wore boxers and a long t-shirt to bed. I found my baggy basketball shorts in the darkness and pulled them up my legs. I carefully eased my bedroom door open and crept over to the staircase. It was dark in the living room and I didn't see anyone there. I tiptoed down the stairs and realized I could hear voices coming from the guest room where my aunt and uncle were sleeping. As I got closer, I could see light coming from beneath the door.

That room was directly across the hall from the front room where Tommy was staying. Both rooms had "pocket doors" that slid out from the wall. The door leading into the den was open, and Tommy wasn't in there. The hide-a-bed was out, but nobody was in it. By the time I had taken in his absence, I heard moans coming from the guest bedroom. It sounded like my sister was in there, having sex. I stood frozen in the hallway and listened carefully. It was the only reason I heard my parents approaching from their own bedroom.

I quickly ducked into the den and knelt behind the back of the sofa. I was just able to peer over the edge of it when my parents slid open the door to the guest room. What I saw made me gasp. Fortunately, my gasp was drowned out by the sounds my aunt, uncle, cousin and sister were making as they fucked each other's brains out.

"Aw, you started without us," my mother pouted, dropping her robe to reveal her naked body in all its glory.

My dad closed the sliding door, leaving me in darkness and stunned disbelief. That brief image was still seared into my brain. There was Tommy, pounding his mother from behind with a huge grin on his face. There was my sister, her massive tits bouncing all over as she rode our uncle's rod. Standing next to them, my mother showed off her own impressive breasts and her waxed pussy lips when her robe slid off her shoulders.

I blinked a couple of times, and then realized that the curtains to that bedroom were open. If I went outside that window I would be able to see in through the blinds. I knew the window was shielded from the curb by some large bushes. I also knew from sneaking out to visit my girlfriends during the school year that I could get out that front door without making a sound.

My hands were sweaty as I got up and walked to the front door. It was only five feet from the doorways to the guest room and den, so I cringed as I slowly unlocked the door and turned the knob. I did a better job of keeping quiet than my mother did. Her lusty moan drowned out any noise I might have made as I slipped out into the night.

There was a streetlight out at the curb, but it really didn't illuminate the house. I looked around to make sure nobody was out walking their dog this late or something silly like that—I was terribly paranoid that I would get caught. No one was out in our neighborhood.