The following story, about 3 ½ Literotica pages long, explores the relationship that develops between an eighteen year old teen and his mom after his father marries a younger women. And how this teenager then becomes torn between two beautiful, competing women. Please enjoy. 2 Pregnant Moms....and sis?
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1 -- Dad March 15th 2006
"I'm getting married again son," Dad said nervously, and then after a questioning glance into my eyes looked quickly away.
"WHAT?" I screeched, stunned at his words. Shit, I told myself, I should have known it was coming; he'd been dating that bitch Katrina for six months. And then today when he called me into his den and said he'd like to discuss something serious with me I should have guessed.
But I'd thought we were going to have a heart-to-heart about school...or maybe the summer job at his company...or even maybe a little discussion of my activities with my current girlfriend.
"But what about Mom?" I demanded.
"We're divorced son. Your Mom and I have to move on."
"Move on to fucking where? Christ dad, you're sixty-two. She's a girl," I accused.
"Billy, she's a university graduate. Twenty-three," Dad said softly, knowing how much his words had hurt me.
It had never really occurred to me that dad would remarry, especially to someone like Katrina. But given his history I shouldn't have been surprised. He'd always preferred young girls. He'd married for the first time at eighteen, a college freshman who knocked up his girlfriend in his second month on campus. Then married her, and over the next five years had somehow graduated with a degree in business and had three daughters while starting a company that supported them all.
At forty, with his youngest child, my half sister, seventeen, he'd simply walked out. Two years later he married mom, a sixteen year old high school junior. Neither mom nor dad had ever fully explained how they'd met and fallen in love but apparently they had.
My sister Chrissie was born a year later...then I, William Koury jr., Bill or Billy to everyone, his first son, came along another year later in November 1987. He'd stuck around until I was sixteen and then he left us. Actually he'd been a pretty good dad while he was there. But in leaving he'd broken my mom's heart. And this latest news wasn't going to help her any in getting it all back together.
For the last two years I'd been spending my time between two houses just over a mile apart, a week with mom followed by a week with dad. It had been a weird experience but for a horny teenager it had certain advantages. Like they both spoiled me. I had lots of spending money. Dad gave me a motorcycle and I had access to two cars.
And half of my friend's parents were divorced. Still, it had hurt. It still did. My sister had absolutely refused to live with dad, instead, for the first year she had simply visited him every second weekend or so. Now, a freshman at the University of Florida, she didn't even have to do that. It wasn't so much that she hated him, it was just that she wasn't prepared to do anything that would hurt mom anymore than she'd already been hurt.
Dad informed me the wedding was set for the first weekend in May. "That way Chrissie will be home from school," he said explaining his choice.
"That's only six weeks from now dad," I complained while thinking what the fuck does he care when his daughter finishes school, the chances of her coming were slim and none.
"She's leaving for Europe right after...it was the only weekend that fit," he said, then added, "I'm hoping you'll get her to come son. I know, I know," he said seeing my grimace, "but I'd sure appreciate it."
"I'll try dad," I promised, caught between my love for him and my love for my mom and sis.
2 - Katrina March 16th 2006
She knocked on my door the next morning ten minutes after dad had left for work.
"I know you're angry...maybe hate me," she started after venturing a few feet into the room.
"You got that right," I interrupted. "Breaking up marriages...fucking old men for their money," I accused my soon to be new step-mother.
"Liar. I never even knew your father until he'd left your mom."
"Christ, you're twenty-three. Can't you find somebody to pick on your own age?" Except the truth was that Katrina Molotov was about the hottest babe you could hope to find. And smart. She could have had anyone she wanted. And for some reason she'd chosen sixty-two year old dad. I'd had a hard-on for her since the day dad had brought her home and introduced her to me three months ago.
I'd even lain in bed stroking myself as she and dad went at it on the other side of the house. She was a screamer and even the supposed sound proof construction of dad's new house couldn't muffle Katrina's groans of pleasure as she writhed under his big prick. I'd even watched them once. Had watched them late one night, had stood in the darkened hallway outside their room, naked, my throbbing prick in hand, as dad had pounded deep inside of her.
I'd had to fight myself to stop from rushing into the room and pushing my old man off her and replacing him. My hard cock had finally spurted great gobs of cum against the wall even as Katrina's orgasmic screams echoed around me. I knew I still wanted to fuck her even after dad's marriage announcement.
"I want us to be friends. I'll be your second mom from now on," she answered.
"Second mom?" I asked, flabbergasted by her chutzpah. Then as a bright red blush spread over her pale skin I demanded, "What about my first fucking mom."
"Their marriage is finished Billy...your mom is young...rich...she'll find someone new."
"What, she'll go out and find a twenty year old boy toy and live happily ever after?"
"I'm an adult...a trained psychologist, a therapist."
"Great! Maybe you can give mom and Chrissie and I some free therapy. When you're not fucking dad."
"If you're going to be such an asshole yes, maybe you do need therapy," she spat back, finished trying to sweet talk me.
"I'm the asshole?" I wailed.
"You could come to the office...we could talk your problems out."
"My problem is you!"
"Well you better get used to me buddy," she hissed, then turned on her heels and stomped out of the room.
3 - Mom March 18th 2006
It was I who broke the news to mom and sis two days later. Dad said he'd do it but had wondered aloud to me if it wouldn't be better coming from me. That was after asking me to be his best man. "You're a chickenshit dad," I'd accused but finally agreed to his request.
My sister Chrissie was home from Gainesville for spring break but even she was surprised when mom's only reaction to my news was, "I'd like to strangle that prick."
"She's just a little, fortune seeking slut mommy," Chrissie said as she rushed to hug mom.
My mom, born Sophia Rosa Fratelli to second generation Italian Americans, was only thirty-six that spring, impossibly beautiful for a woman who had children aged nineteen and eighteen. Her thick, curly, auburn hair tumbled over her shoulders in a fiery cascade that simply led ones eyes downward to the full, round, still high and firm breasts that screamed to be cupped and caressed.
And then the ridiculously small waist, easily circled by my two hands, and then the flaring outward of hips and rear.... Mom was hot, something that my buddies almost inevitably pointed out to me after seeing her. Even my girlfriends refused to believe she was my mother.
And, in the twenty some months since dad had left her, mom hadn't had sex. Or at least I didn't think she had. She'd never dated, and unless she was having secret daytime trysts she was living cock free. And over the previous six months, with the two of us living together and Chrissie gone, I'd slowly come to the realization that I wanted to make love with her. My own mom!
"Are you guys okay?" I asked from the doorway of mom's bedroom a couple of hours after I'd broken dad's news. Mom and sis had retired there to commiserate together over my sad tidings. They'd taken a bottle of rum with them.
"You're all bastards," Chrissie slurred at me as I approached the bed. "Bloody men!"
