The Terrible Truth

[©2010 BY CLINTON09; ALL CHARACTERS OVER THE AGE OF 18; NO EVENTS DESCRIBED ARE TRUE; THIS STORY HAS A 'HARDER EDGE' THAN MOST; BE WARNED: HERE BE DRAGONS; FOR AGES 21 OR ABOVE]

[Father discovers that his neglected wife has found solace with her hunky son; while he is given cold shoulder, son is treated to cornucopia of delights.]

[ALERT: one of the delights is eating a meal served on his mother's perfect body; some might object to this type of erotic dining, especially the location of dipping sauce; please turn to another story; thank you]

*

My name is Mal, my wife Sue and our only son James or Jimmy. For the longest time, I had been given the cold shoulder at home. I thought that my wife had just gotten turned off by something or was turning chaste as she got a bit older. I should have known better.

I owned three convenience stores in this suburban community outside Tampa. I did so much driving for delivering odd items to the stores, carrying money, etc. that I never had time to really get a workout. As a result, I must admit by age 49 I was not only balding, but pale, a bit like the Pillsbury Doughboy. My wife Sue was only 39 and she still had a fantastic figure. Her breasts were plump, her legs shapely. When I married her almost 19 years ago, I had all the makings of a perfect life: a gorgeous wife, a business, and a family inheritance due me. Right after our honeymoon, I sort of relaxed and stopped caring about what I ate or drank; this is dangerous when you have convenience stores with all the junk food and beer available.

One New Year's eve I had gotten tanked up; I was so drunk that I rushed home to be with my wife as planned...but I brought along the store clerk, who was also drunk! My wife never forgot that and never forgave me. The sad fact was, I really did NOT intend to take that clerk there...I was just too damn wasted to realize she was following me.

After that day, Sue and I just co-habited a room. I knew she was just waiting for Jim to turn 18 before she split. Still, I failed to believe that one incident could cause such an ice cold shoulder to be turned to me. To figure this all out, I surreptitiously installed pinhole cameras in the master and guest (my son's) bedrooms as well as the living room and garage. This account was pieced together from the various date/time-stamped DVR recordings.

I told my beautiful wife that I was leaving for a trip to Vegas for the national convenience store products convention. I would be gone for two weeks. My wife made a big play showing that she was wearing the birth control patch AND a diaphragm so I should feel more comfortable.

From the recordings, as I was pulling out of the driveway, my gorgeous buxom blonde wife Sue was in the kitchen doing dishes, wearing her green robe. Her strapping son Jimmy came into the dimly lit kitchen, saying he had an itch that had to be scratched.

To my amazement, that brazen bastard pushed my gorgeous legally wed wife over the sink. He flipped up her green robe from the back like he was checking the mechanicals on a photocopier. I barely saw him peel a big white sticky off her thigh (my God that was the birth control patch).

Sue: "Jimmy, what are you doing? I need that along with my diaphragm to keep from getting pregnant." [She regretted mentioning that; her persistent son had not known of her having a diaphragm.]

Jim: "Mom, if you love me you will remove that damn diaphragm, and now. You know in our religion we cannot have sex without some chance of creating life."

Sue: "I will remove it, because your father is impotent and only produces a few drops. I kept it in there, to be honest, for fear that you would become a man and attack me; I know better now. [They kissed tenderly.] Wait.[She struggled a bit.] Ouch... there. [She put this scary looking metal thing in the sink. It had been custom fitted of course and wasn't cheap. Her musclebound son grabbed it; in a fit of rage he pulled it apart. His huge biceps swelled with power as he applied industrial machine leverage until that stainless steel thing broke apart. He put the tatters into the trash.]

Jim: "Mom, who is the MAN in this house?"

Sue: "YOU are sweetheart." [That was an interesting bit of news to me.]

Jim: "Then who dictates what the woman of the house does regarding where she sleeps, with whom, and what she does for reproduction?"

Sue: "Oh, God, I don't want to allow you to..."

At that point, he gently pushed his beautiful mother down to her knees. He removed his sweatshirt and allowed his basketball shorts to fall to the ground. He flexed his huge muscles, making his cock rise in pride. My poor wife was confronted by this unbelievably well-built, well-hung, musclebound superhunk. I really couldn't blame her. She put a shaking hand on his impressive ten inch steel hard cock, the other hand on his scrotum. She hefted the balls, each the size of a small grapefruit, swollen handsomely and overfilled with potent seed. She stared at his manly unit, actually licking her lips, some light tears in her eyes out of overwhelming passion.

Jim: "Mom, I AM more man than that wimp you call a husband, aren't I?"

Sue: [Taking hold of his gigantic organ and his swollen testes, squeezing one and hefting the other to gauge its pendulous weight.] "Sweetheart, you are MUCH more man than that sissy. Your ten inch babymaker is so huge, so strong, and so virile. It's at least three times the length and volume of that spineless husband of mine. I am your slave; I will do anything for you. I must have you...I need that cock inside of me, touching me where your father never did, never could."

Jim: "Well then, I want you to get the extra birth control patches, that pack of prescription birth control pills he brought you, that over the counter 'morning after' pill bottle, plus any condoms and anything else." [She left the kitchen padding silently on her bare smooth feet, wearing only that green robe. She returned with a ton of bottles, boxes, and odd items.]

Jim: "Mom, I want you to pour the birth control pills down the disposal as it runs; that includes the monthly and day after types. GO--NOW!"

Sue dumped all that junk on the kitchen counter. All the prescriptions and over the counter products were dropped in and crushed by the noisy disposal. She gathered up and spread the remainder on the kitchen round table where he sat.

Jim: "Mom, get a candle and a book of matches."

She was confused but got one and fetched the matches.

Jim: "Okay, mom, we are almost through. I want you to remove all nine remaining birth control patches from the box and burn them in front of me. Then remove all ten condoms from their wraps and burn the ends of them. While you are doing that, I want you to repeat this to me." [Smiling, he bent over and whispered in her ear.]

Sue: [Applying the candle flame to the nine patches, one by one.] "In burning these evil devices, I am re-affirming my religious pact to reproduce as much as I can, and to never have sex for anything but procreation. The next time that I make sweet passionate love to my handsome son, I will come to him unprotected and prepared for impregnation."

With that little business out of the way, that musclebound, overly well-hung son picked up his lithe, even nubile, MILF mother and carried her to the couch in the living room. It was disturbing to watch. However, to my surprise and relief, she said:

Sue: "I will ask you one more time; I am legally married and tied down. If I were to get pregnant and couldn't explain it, I would be disgraced. So, please, Jimmy, if you respect me, please pull out at the last moment. It won't violate your religious position because we are not using any artificial birth control."

Jim: "Ok, ok, damnit, I swear to you I will."

For the 1st time I got to see them making love. He literally dropped his heavy ten inch love rod onto her slavering wet cunt lips. Soon enough, her capable hands had gripped its massive girth and twisted it inside of her. He started the most athletic exhibition of thrusting I had ever seen. His mother met him thrust for thrust, her passion punctuated by four (by my count) orgasms. That sound they made together...I gently slapped the top of my hand and that was the exact same sound of their bodies writhing together in sexual union. Unlike my experiences with her, Sue seemed to be in perfect harmony, perfect rhythm with her young and very forceful lover. She told him everything she felt, from his long cock dragging its uncut head up and down her tingling corridor of love to the final moment, when it had its meeting with her cervix. Finally:

Sue: "Now remember Jimmy, you promised to pull out in time. I am at my peak of fertility today, so even the slightest bit of sperm will put me in the family way." [She started really moaning in orgasm now, her fertile womb stuffed full of Jim's powerful cock. She could feel the penis start to swell. Unfortunately, that put her right on the brink of 'another orgasm', one that would be simultaneous with him. She locked her slender ankles around his thrusting hips.]

Jim: "Mom, I'm pulling out now before I go off like a fire hose." [His withdrawal was blocked—it was the most bitter irony in history. If this arrogant strutting egotistical muscle-boy had maintained his mastery of the situation and withdrawn as he wanted, my beautiful wife would not have been inseminated by that massive sex organ. That single moment, when she took over, led to that tragedy.]

Sue: "NO, JIMMY! I'm so close, I want us to go together. Please honey, don't worry about pulling out. The odds are great that no one shot would do the trick...now join mommy on the count of four! One, two, three, FOUR!!"

With that, they both moaned as if they were branded by hot irons. I could see her son's butt clenching and unclenching until it froze. He had given her perhaps a dozen lengthy ropes of sperm-laden cum. As they both caught their breath, with sweat reflecting off both of them after that incredible display of pure passion and fuckpower, his mother said she was sorry.

Sue: "I just wanted to apologize and let you know that if anything happens as a result of today's activities, it will be entirely my fault. You were being a true gentleman, offering to withdraw as you promised. It was my selfishness that locked you inside me with my ankles. My heavens, you came with unbelievable power. I am so proud of you...you are not only strong and healthy, but virile and manly. Those balls of yours were so swollen, so filled with sperm. To think that all of that was transferred into my fertile depths. Why, even as we speak, I bet two or three (actually, it was four) of your sperm have located my ovum, attached themselves like tiny tadpoles, and are riding the surf in there waiting for that miracle of creation when that fertilized ovum alights on the wall. It's such a sexy thought that even as we speak now, I might be conceiving."

Jim: "Mom, while that wimp is gone gallivanting drunkenly in Vegas, I want you to move my things into your room. I also expect you to serve me roman grapes and fun meals."

I will explain these to you. I could not believe the control over my gorgeous wife that this cocky bastard had. 'Roman grapes' required his mother to put one knee up and fold the other leg over. Her beautiful smooth oh-so-sexy foot would be over his adoring face, the bunch of grapes held above him by her red painted toes. He could just extend his tongue to pop a ripe grape into his mouth like Caesar, or kiss the soft soles of his mother's gorgeous delicate feet.

'Fun meals' were a play on words from that restaurant chain. Some might not like this, but I saw what I saw. Whether it was a burger, or cocktail shrimp, the dish rested on the softly rippling abs of his in-shape mother. What made them a 'fun meal' was that the condiments were, umm, on top of her feminine place entrance. Yes, he was dipping shrimp there and delighting in them. Some would find it incredibly off-putting but others (myself included) would find it absolutely riveting.

These recordings were so revealing. Besides being a potential boon to me in court (though embarrassing too, as that WAS my wife doing this), they settled so many mysteries.

For one thing, I had had a valuable collection of beer steins. One day, I came home only to find them all over the floor-- broken. For some reason, the shelf they were on was whistle clean, not a speck of dust. My wife had no explanation whatever except for perhaps an earthquake?

Well, on the recordings, my sexy wife was servicing this self-important, overly-endowed punk. It irritated me that she looked up at him as if he were a god or something with her adoring blue eyes. Finally, she pulled off him.

Jim: "Mom, you better put that back in your mouth or the gateway to your baby factory. I am going to blow BIG TIME!"

Sue: "Don't worry, honey. You just trust your old broken down mother and go off as soon as you feel like it. I just have to try something."

With that, he arched his back, closed his eyes, made a sound like a bull being picked in the ring, and went off. His mother's delicate hands held back his cock with difficulty. She aimed it at, yes, my valuable mugs. But, they were ten feet away across the room! Surely, it couldn't reach that far! I was incredulous but that powerful white spray crossed the room, hitting the six foot high shelf. It had knocked all of the heavy beer steins to the floor with a splash, then a crash. POW!

Well, THAT explained THAT mystery. Then there was the matter of the re-bars. I had bought three inch thick re-bars for a home project I was doing. His mom saw them as a challenge to her son. If he could bend those thick, immovable steel rods, she offered him 10 fun meals. Well, he hit his weights hard. Allowing for twelve hours to recover from the strain, he tried those re-bars the next morning, bending all ten of them. She kissed him proudly and served his meal from that breakfast drive-thru place on her perfect body, with that warm syrup you know where. Well, a deal IS a deal, after all. I'm very ashamed to admit that I watched and re-watched this recording seven times. The dipping into that syrup, given where it was located, was the hottest thing I had ever seen.

I know you're wondering out there: given that everyone must eventually have realized that 'the cat was out of the bag', how did the love triangle play out?

Well, my first mistake was confronting my wife with the DVD recordings. I had not made any copies. Her son moved to take them from the table.

Me: "What the hell do you think you are doing!?" [Ask a silly question? He was taking my only evidence of her fooling around. When I made the slightest move to stop him, his mother laughed and nodded; that young punk pulled back the sleeve on his polo shirt and made a fist then did the obligatory flex. As I watched in quiet awe the skin above his arm rose majestically till it resembled the Devil's Trill in Close Encounters. God, what bulging biceps. I let him have the recordings, lest he rip my head clean off with one hand.]

Sue: "Mal, we will offer you three options at this point. You can sign some divorce papers which I just happen to have ready for you, and leave quietly. You can fight my strapping son (he flexed those damn muscles again; I literally shook, cowering before him.) OR, you can choose to be our house boy. We were going to offer you something like 'a fair half share in the estate' but I remembered that night when you drunkenly brought your slut girlfriend from work, as well as those nights you didn't come home. And the night when my nose was pushed out of place when I 'walked into a door'. Because of these warm, wonderful memories, your service as 'house boy' will be fun and entertaining...for us at least. My powerful son will occasionally take out any frustrations of the day...on you. That might mean you have to go to the hospital, but you could always tell them you walked into a door. Let's see, what else? Well, you would have to serve us in bed, even while we were making mad, passionate love. Oh, and if we wanted to have a non-stop love weekend, you might have to get Viagra and feed it to Jimmy so he could love me nonstop.

But, there would be perks with that 'house boy' job. You would get to see the miracle of life, as my belly swelled with Jim's child. You could watch me breastfeed that newborn baby, as well as HIS loving father: Jimmy. I hope you wouldn't feel bad, being left out, as your son Jimmy laps up all of that warm, sweet, breastmilk. Some say it's the ultimate aphrodisiac, so that stuff might inspire my own superman to service his loving mommy. Hopefully, that would result in yet another birth.

One last thing, 'house boy'. Not only will you have no access to my fertile womb, we don't want you to touch yourself at all. So you will have to wear a chastity device, just something Jim designed to make sure you behave. It shouldn't hurt that much, unless you get excited watching us make love. If you got excited, you might feel some searing pain, but only for a few hours."

They were prepared to go on, so I just signed over the house and all of the community property to them, took my own stuff, and left. To my surprise, they very quickly sold the old house and left town.

Three years later, I was managing one of my three convenience stores, the one with the drive-thru. This mini-van from Montana pulled in. Who should be driving it but that punk kid, Jimmy. Sure enough, his supersexy mother Sue was seated next to him. They flashed their gold bands at me. Then he pointed to the five car-seats, where the quadruplets and the other baby were, filling up the mini-van. They thought that would blow my mind, but frankly I was happy for them. We never saw each other again, but I wished them well, no doubt disappointing them after driving all the way from the Big Sky country.