What Goes Wrong At Bacherlorette P2

What Could Go Wrong At The Bachelorette Party, A series. Part two

Characters:

Tom Fitzpatrick, bastard child of Bill and Elaine Fitzpatrick

Bill Fitzpatrick, Jr. half-brother of Tom

Molly Fitzgerald soon to be Bill's ex-wife in a throuple.

Phillipe Rambaldi my biological father

Renee Dumont Tom's ex-fiancée, Phillipe's niece

Hailey Fitzgerald mother of four of Bill's children and soon to be his wife

Bill Fitzpatrick Sr. Bill Jr.'s dad

Elaine Fitzpatrick Bill and Tom's mother cuckholdress of Bill Senior

We first met Tom and his family here:

https://www.literotica.com/s/what-goes-wrong-at-bachelorette

A reader reached out and asked for the follow up so here you go. I've appended an edited first part and if you want to start there go ahead.

We were quiet as we drove South down I-5 after crossing the border at Blaine. We both were hung over and I broke the quiet and said, "I'm going to my doctor's and get checked for STDs. My dick hurt so bad when I peed this morning."

Bill laughed and he said, "You are definitely Phillipe's son, you're hung like a mule."

I said, ignoring him, "Has Molls reached out to you with respect to Phillipe and the honey trap?"

He said, "Let me turn on my phone, there was no service in Canada."

For the next several minutes his phone sounded like wind chimes as texts and emails hit Bill's phone. He looked at text messages first kid stuff from his kids from Molls and Hailey both. He did know how he was going to unwind the kids that he'd raised that were not his. Then he started looking at his emails and grunted.

He said, "Molls filed for divorce, my attorney was ready and counter-filed with pictures, depositions and then leaked video and depositions to the Seattle Times. She did nothing for you unless she's only copied it or sent it to your email. My attorney said that he's negotiating with Netflix for a Spy Movie and a polyamory melodrama."

I said, "Oh boy, I'm going to pull over next exit and get some coffee, do you want anything?"

Bill said, "Get some apple fritters and tall black with some cream."

I drove through a mom and pop coffee stand and got it all for us and there was a gravel covered field and pulled over. The coffee and fritters were incredible.

"I wish I could find someone and open a coffee shop with fritters and donuts and make babies, Bill. I've been avoiding opening my phone, I hope to God there's no bullshit from Renee nor Phillipe. I'm so disappointed in Molls, I hoped the whole trip that somehow this would resolve in your favor, but trying to stab you in the back again. Total shit-show for sure. I can't trust a damn thing she does now."

I continued, "If mom had not fucked that guy, I wouldn't be here. But she did and now everything is fucked up. You've treated me right, but I think, I'm going to leave the whole area, maybe go active duty again. Your Dad hates me, I hate my mom. It's all fucked."

I turned on my phone. There were not as many notes as I expected. One from Molls that I opened and it was simply, "I cannot represent you in any way, I'm sorry, " I showed it to Bill."

He said, "She put herself first."

There was a note from the Chief Warrant officer in my command. It said, "We are aware. Follow protocol JNBK, " I had to get to Bremerton as quickly as I might.

There was one from Renee, I opened it and cryptically she said, "It's not what you think."

Lastly, there was one from Phillipe and my mother. It was an email with an embedded picture of them cheek to cheek a quasi-announcement that as soon as the divorce was final between her and Bill Fitzpatrick, they were getting married and they wanted me to have dinner with them. For some reason I kept that to myself.

I responded to Molls and said, "You are a colossal phony Molly, despicable cannot adequately describe you. I cannot cotton ever seeing you again."

"Bill, I have to get work, where is the best place to drop you? Do you still have a job?"

He said, "Apparently I do. Molls was suspended, then resigned. Drop me at home."

His place was on the western slope of Queen Anne Hill overlooking Interbay. It took us another hour to get him there and we were both quiet most of the way. I helped him lug his stuff into the house and said, "Thanks. I think my world is going to get very weird when I get to work. I'm either going on active duty or off the grid. It might be a long time before I see you again."

I have him a hug and was out to the Trooper and fired her up. I headed south on fifteenth west which bent into Elliot Avenue and stayed off the freeway and bent around East Marginal way, past Boeing field and the backway to Seattle Tacoma airport and past that through Federal Way to Fife and finally connected to highway 3/16 and across the Narrows and finally to Joint Naval Base Kitsap and went to where my boss's office was located. I was down to a half a tank, I noted as I got out of the car.

The building dated to 1938 and it was part of the buildup for World War II. My boss was Chief Warrant Officer 05, Gunner Cole. He is in his mid-fifties and is maybe five foot eight and one fifty, chews cigars and drinks a lot of coffee. I stood outside his door and rapped on it.

"Enter."

I walked in and looked at him and he shook his head. Sitting on the couch was Renee and one of the guys in the video. She stood up and said, "Tom."

I looked at Gunner Cole and said, "I quit, " which since I was no longer in the Navy I could do.

I pivoted and walked to the door and the guy grabbed my arm whirled me around. I gave into the move and saw Renee smirking until I side kicked just above his ankle and I heard him grunt and I did it again and I heard his leg break. As he crumbled to the floor, I kicked him in the nuts."

Renee shrieked, "Don't hurt him!"

Gunner Cole joined the party, "Tom don't we're all the same side."

I looked at him and said, "Nobody's on my side, I'll not be anybody's fucking bait, you skinny old cocksucker. Stay away from me all of you. I quit, I'm not in the Navy, I'm a fucking sand crab."

Renee said, "Tom I care for you."

I said, "I just looked at two of the videos and there were thirty eight videos, you fucked ten guys in the first two. I would've needed five inch thick dick for you to feel me. I obviously need to get checked for STDs, you fucking cum bucket. Where's your little smirk now bitch. I'll kill him if he comes near me."

Gunner Cole said, "Slow down Tom, it's not what you think."

"Stop with the bullshit, Gunner. All this shit started when her fucking uncle seduced my mom while my mom's husband was in Desert Storm. I don't look like anyone in my family I got the shit beat out of me by my brother's my whole life because my mom is a fucking slut and then push this fucking skank at me to bait who. I know too much, so you're going after my biological dad, who I've never met? "

The asshole on the floor said, "Just listen, it's not what you think."

I was on him in a nano second and rabbit punched him in the face three times.

Renee screamed, "You're killing my husband."

I stopped and said, "You're right it's not what I think."

I took my lanyard with my identification card from around my neck and tossed it at Gunner Cole.

He said, "Tom it's critical for the country."

I said, "Fuck my country, I gave at the office."

Epilogue: As Tom drove away Gunner Cole looked at Renee and said, "Never rat fuck someone that's been rat fucked his whole life. I told you two jackasses that it wouldn't work. Now I've lost the best man in my command."

Tom made his way to his credit union on the base and drew all of his money out in a cashier's check plus twenty thousand dollars in twenty dollar bills. He stayed in a cheap motel near the air port in Seattle. He went to a clinic and was checked for STDs which would take a week, blood draw and urine. He pulled out the memory card on his phone and broke it and threw the phone in the trash in the bathroom.

He had take out Chinese from a nearby Safeway. He bought a burner phone and activated it with one hundred hours of minutes. He called his mother after he'd eaten. She picked up on the first ring, it was a land line in her kitchen. I said, "Hi mom it's Tom, say yes or no is there somebody bad there."

"Yes, " she said.

"Phillipe?"

She said, "No, he had a heart attack and is in the hospital.

"Why did you cheat on your husband with Phillipe?

"He had been cheating on me for years. I have photos from a private investigator."

I said, "Here's the deal, Mom, this life you gave me for the most part is shit. I'm going away where nobody can find me for a long, long time. Where nobody will ever find me. Good bye."

She said, "Tom it's not what you think."

At this point I chuckled and said, "Tell me what it is mom, and make it quick because I'm leaving to go far away."

She said, "Tom I love you."

"Well no, "I said. You loved getting some strange dick, while your husband was getting his ass shot off and most of all you loved your self most of all."

She said, "Renee loves you, despite everything!"

I said, "Nope she's married and is a spy and fucked dozens of men since we last fucked. Bad call mom. Good bye."

I was getting a passport in the Federal Building on first avenue, when I heard Molls say, "Tom is that you?"

She was with some red headed guy and all of her kids. I looked at her and nodded yes. I said to myself, this is not what I'm thinking.

"Where are you going?"

"Way far away."

"What about your family?"

"Let's see my would be fiancée is married to another man. I'm not related to you, nor those kids. My mom is slutzilla."

"Oh, thanks for the help cheater."

Coming next:

Tom gets passage on a container ship to Homer, Alaska, with his trustee Trooper.

Does Tom find love?

Part one for those who missed it:

What Could Go Wrong At The Bachelorette Party, A series.

Copyright Catcher78 all right's reserved.

Author's Note: Everyone in this story is a figment of my imagination and even in my head as they get fucked, they are eighteen or much older. I've mentioned this before but my characters drive the story, their thoughts, words take the story where it goes. I try to evoke great writer's approach like Faulkner, Kerouac, Kesey and Hunter S. Thompson. I have no pretense as to my success. But I am trying. I detest anonymous trolls and block them. Named jerks are gone too. This story touches on aspects of Group Sex, interracial sex, loving wives and family. Not your thing move on. Save us all some grief.

I went out and shot some pool with my four brothers, pops and granddad and probably had too much Murphy's Irish Whisky. There were other smoother Irish whiskies, but I wanted my throat to tell me I was drinking something that was going to fuck me up. I mean I did like getting fucked up, I just didn't want no fucking sneak attacks, if you follow me. We brought a fresh sockeye salmon and ramps from mom's garden and asked if they'd serve the salmon hard cooked on the skin side and touched on the flesh side, then use their imagination with the ramps and other stuff. It was an Irish bar hidden just off First Avenue in downtown Seattle. My bachelor's party.

I was getting married to Renee, a beautiful red head who'd stole my heart. I was twenty seven and recently discharged from the United States Navy, not able to say what, except it had to so with interpreting stuff, I spoke Korean and a smattering of different Chinese dialects (there are over one hundred and forty one of them).

I was an E-6, First Class Petty Officer. I was the family runt at five foot ten one hundred seventy five pounds with dark black hair and white skin, my grandmother said I was what they called the "Black Irish" purely Gaelic with none of that red hair and freckles that my four brothers had. I had a civilian job with the U.S. Navy doing analysis, now.

When I was ten years old at Sunday dinner I blurted out to pops, why didn't I have red hair and freckles like my brothers. Mom ran from the table blubbering and I got a cuff to the back of my head.

I learned when I was in high school from my grandmother that when Pops was in Iraq, desert storm or something, mom got a job as a secretary. Her youngest at the time was seven and her boss told her that he knew she had needs and started taking care of them of them as he bent her over his desk all day long and on Saturday. Pops was in Kuwait for eighteen months.

Mom's boss was French Canadian and handsome and hung like a mule. I was six months old when Pops returned, somewhat unexpectantly, his ship's evaporators had to be replaced and well mom was pregnant again. Grandmother said that mom was one of those Catholic girls that Billy Joel sang about.

Dad made her get her tubes tied and although they are together, married still, they no longer stay in the same bedroom. Mom still's a secretary it seems, goes on vacations and business trips with my biological dad (I had joined Ancestry as our whole family did and so did Mr. French-Canadian). Pops is more discrete.

Mom (Elaine) and Pop (Bill) had us over for dinner, Renee and me and we talked about getting married and kids and we were so happy and my parents looked so happy for us. I was staying at home as I had moved out of my apartment and we would move into a condo I'd rented and we both had started to move stuff in.

I had breakfast the next morning with mom and had some coffee and talked. We went out and sat on the front porch as she still smoked and it was a nice Seattle morning already into the seventies with lots of bees flying around.

I said, "Mom, what was your impression of Renee?"

She stood up and flicked her burning cigarette down to the street and went inside and said, "I'm getting the coffee, I'll be back."

Pot in hand she freshened up our cups and sat down and fired up another cigarette and exhaled through her nose and said, "Pops and I talked last night, something we never do, because well, Phillipe is your biological parent, but your dad raised you.

"Tom you are the spitting image of Phillipe, I want you to meet him. Today, actually."

Without a bunch of thought, I said, "So twenty seven years and twelve months after impregnating you and another kid you aborted, you want me to talk to my "daddy". Well mommy do you have a fucking clue what it's like to be the black haired stepson, the so called Nword in the woodpile? I'm six inches shorter than my brothers and Pops. They all regularly beat me for what you did as a kid, I don't really belong to this family. All the teachers in high school somehow knew the details.

My baseball coach called me "Frenchy" Fitzpatrick. What the fuck did you do put a yellow pages ad out saying slut needs dick, call this number, I'm needy," I stood up and said, "If I were to meet him, I'd beat him to death. I got to say this and I know you're my mom, but I hate your fucking guts for what you did to this family."

I threw the coffee cup out into the street missing my old Isuzu Trooper by a foot and walked away.

She said, "She's a slut and is already fucking around on you."

"You know that just how?"

"Did you fuck her that day before you came to dinner?"

I stared at her without responding.

"She leaked cum on the dining room chair."

"Thanks mom, you're just saying this because of what I said about fucking Phillipe. Just fuck the hell off."

The sockeye was incredible and they mixed ramps and feta cheese into the baked potatoes. They brought some lamb stew too and soda bread.

I switched to Harp Lager so as not to throw up and have a fucked up day tomorrow. Renee and her girlfriends were having a low key bachelorette party, just some drinks. My oldest brother Bill Fitzpatrick brought me back to my parent's house, I had a bit of a buzz on, but got to sleep just about eleven. Big wedding date tomorrow at six in the evening at St. Anne's Catholic Church on Queen Anne hill, just south of Second West and Galer street.

At four in the morning, I was awakened to ping's from my phone. Text messages. I sat up and scooched back against the wall and opened the first text which was a video. Renee was astride a tall black man whose immense dick was slick with her cunt slime. She had another black dick in her mouth and was jerking another one.

Her hand with the engagement ring was on the black guy's ass as his long bent dick went all the way in until her nose was buried in his pubes.

I clicked out of them and counted the number of texts. There were thirty of them.

I got up and took a shower, then threw on some sweats and some old Reebok running shoes. I texted my oldest brother Bill who lived a mile away and asked him if he might come by. I said, "I have nobody to turn to and I am in trouble.

Five minutes later the response was, "Coffees on see you soon."

Quietly I went down the stairs and tip toed down the stairs as quietly as I might.

My mother was sitting on the porch in the dark smoking and drinking coffee.

She said, "Why are you up?"

"Bill's going to help me with some last minute stuff, packing up the rig before the honeymoon."

She did not know the honeymoon supposedly was to Cabo San Lucas which did not require the use of his old, rebuilt SUV. He ran down the stairs and unlocked his door and turned the key over without starting the engine and put the transmission in second gear and released the hand break and some forty five feet from his parent's house he popped the clutch and quietly rolled toward Bill's home.

It was four thirty when Tom walked into Bill's kitchen having parked out in the alley behind his home. Bill's wife had a platter of toast, peanut butter and bacon and blackberry preserves from the previous summer. She was forty seven years old, an attorney in the City of Seattle's Prosecutor's Office. She was tall and broad and looked like one of the wooden women put on the front of sailing ships except she had bigger tits and thighs that could crack a coconut.

Bill was forty five six foot seven, with red hair, that was going grey and a few remaining freckles. He was a former Seattle cop and now was an investigator for the prosecutor's office. They had six kids and it was speculated that Molly pegged Bill so that she no longer would get pregnant. It was partially true, but Bill shut down all talk or questions.

Molly looked at Tom as tears poured down his face, her face changed from the hawkeyed prosecutor to Tom's mother who she'd functioned as since Tom was five years old. She buried his head in her bosom as he sobbed, she looked at Bill who shrugged his shoulders.

After a few minutes, she said, "What?"

I pulled the phone from my back pocket and opened the text function of my smart phone and showed her the first of the texts and said, "It's Renee at her bachelorette party and she's getting fucked by three black guys, I didn't watch for more than a minute. There are thirty of them. The phone number is a burner phone."

I said, "There's more than this. On Thursday night we had dinner, Renee and I at mom and dad's and it was nice, at least I thought it was."

Friday morning, I woke up and went downstairs and had some breakfast and some coffee. I asked mom what she thought of Renee? She went back in and got some more coffee and lit up another cigarette. Rather than telling me what she thought she said she wanted me to meet with Phillipe my biological father.

When she did that I asked her why the fucker wanted to meet with me after twenty eight years of nothing. I told her my half-brothers routinely beat the shit out of me growing up and told me they hated me and that I'd ruined the family. I told her that if I saw him I'd beat the fucker to death. Then she pivoted and said that when Renee and I had dinner, that she leaked cum on the dining room chair."

"I'm not a brainiac investigator, but I'd bet that somehow Renee was connected with Phillipe, fucking her or something and Mom did want me to beat the shit out of Phillipe?"