After not having seen my Stepmom, Carol, in eleven years, I not only bumped into her yesterday, Christmas Eve, I also had sex with her. I couldn't believe it. After lusting over the woman for all those years, after finding out that she was purposely flashing me and knew that I was purposely flashing her, I still can't believe we had sex. Pinch me.
Then, as an invited guest to Christmas dinner I had sex with not only my Stepmom again but also her bi-sexual girlfriend, Debbie, who was also an ex-girlfriend of my Dad. Boy, my Dad sure knew how to pick them. This holiday just gets weirder and my life is starting to read like an X-rated soap opera. With all that has happened in a span of 24-hours, my mind reeled from the weirdness of this Christmas day.
"Merry Christmas to me. Ho, ho, ho. Yawn. Boy, am I tired. Yawn."
Home alone in Carol's house, now, that Carol and Debbie were out visiting friends and wouldn't be back for a few hours, I just wanted to take a nap after my two hour long sexual marathon with the two of them. They wore me out, yet, after having my first threesome, I was hoping this wouldn't be my last. I was looking forward to later this evening when they returned home. Only, I needed some sleep. I needed to recoup my energy. I was so very tired.
"Yawn."
"Naughty, naughty, you've been bad."
Startled, I looked up and there was an elderly woman standing at the foot of the couch staring at my semi-erect cock.
"Who are you," I asked putting a hand over my cock before replacing it with one of the couch pillows. I wondered how long she's been there staring at me.
"I'm Estelle, Carol's Mom."
"Carol's Mom? I didn't know Carol had a Mom. I mean, of course, I knew Carol had a Mom, but not here in the house. I thought I was alone. I'm so embarrassed. I'm so sorry. Please forgive my nakedness. I can explain, I think."
Oh, my God. I just exposed myself to Carol's mom. I was so embarrassed, mortified, actually. I wanted to hide.
"I can see why my daughter likes you. You're funny and you have a big cock."
"Pardon?"
"You're funny."
"I heard that part."
"And you have a big cock."
"Yeah, unfortunately, I thought that's what you said."
"You do. You have a big cock. I like big cocks. My husband, Bob, God bless his soul, may he rest in peace," she said signing herself. "He had a small cock and I always wondered what it would be like to experience a big cock."
"Carol's not home," I said ignoring her X-rated rambling.
Obviously, she wasn't right in the head. I figured she had dementia. She was making me more than uncomfortable with her unearthly leering and dirty talk. My clothes were clear across the room and I couldn't reach them without getting up and exposing myself to her, again.
"I can see that Carol's not home," she said, "otherwise you wouldn't be lying on the couch naked. You'd be fucking her, you naughty boy. Where'd she go?"
The way she pronounced the word, fucking, made me feel like the pervert that I was, after having flashed my Stepmom growing up and now having sex with her and my Dad's ex-girlfriend. Only, she made the word fucking not sound sexual, but more violent, as if I had fucked someone up, instead of making love to them. This conversation with Estelle was just adding a new level of weirdness to this day. Only, I didn't like it. It felt too strange and she was scaring me.
"She went out with her..." I nearly said lover, then girlfriend, but quickly changed it to, "...friend."
I looked at her wondering how she got in the house. I distinctly heard Carol lock the door.
"I see," she said never removing her eyes from the pillow that covered my cock. She stared at me in the way I stared at women, while hoping to see an up skirt or a down blouse.
"What are you doing here? How did you get in here?"
"What am I doing here? How did I get in here? You're so silly," she said with a chilling laugh.
I hate people who answer my questions by repeating the questions I just asked. It made me feel, as though I was being psychologically analyzed by a psychiatrist. Why do they do that? Is that to make sure that they heard the question correctly, understood the question, and/or to stall for time before answering the question? Whatever the reason, it was annoying and her laugh was annoying.
"Yes, how did you get in? Do you have a key? I never heard you unlock the door," I said raising my voice for no apparent reason other than she was old and I automatically figured that she was hard of hearing. Gees," I said half talking to myself. "I must have nodded off. I never heard or saw her come into the room. She just appeared from out of nowhere."
"I live here," she said with a sad little smile.
"You live here?" Now, I was doing it. "You do? Carol never mentioned you."
"Yes, right up there," she said looking up and pointing at the ceiling. "Upstairs in the back room. She was too busy fucking you to mention me," she said giving me another ogle.
She did it again. The way she said fucking scared me. There was no affection about the word. She made it sound dirty, instead of sexy.
Then, I thought how stupid that behavior was. Any time someone looks up at the sky, we have a habit of looking up to see what it is they are looking at. We can't help ourselves from looking. We are all so much like a herd of cows, following what the other person is doing or not doing whenever they are doing it or not doing it. The one day that you try and break that habitual behavior is the day that you'll be hit in the head with something that falls from an airplane or a building.
"Oh," I said looking up at where she was pointing. "And you just got home?"