Warning: this story contains anal homosexual semi-consensual sex, violence, strong language, themes of incest and mind control. Viewer discretion is advised.
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Sitting on mother's porch, I experience a feeling that few people feel - contentment. As she hands me a tall glass of iced lemonade, I sigh. With Erica removed from my life I feel as if everything in my world is back in order, no worries, and no problems. When Mr. Johns gets home, I'll have a distraction from the unpleasant activities of this morning.
Smiling up at my nude mother, I take the drink and say thank you, placing the straw to my lips and taking a long sip. Mother makes the iced lemonade just the way like it, half lemonade, half iced tea, and extra sweet.
Mother looks down and shines a smile full of motherly love, warmth and affection. With a final nod she moves back into the house. I watch her go, firm tan ass wiggling with every step and sway of her wide hips.
I look across the street at my neighbor's house, and recall the lawn-fucking I gave Mrs. Santiago this morning. I hear again the sound of my hips whapping into her wide, full ass cheeks. I relive the surge of power as I ejaculated deep inside her rectum, as she grunted and groaned with lust beneath me. I know Mr. Santiago comes home every day at around lunchtime for a little afternoon delight; this is what has brought me back out to the porch.
I hear a car in the distance and my heart leaps, my adrenaline surges. I know that I'm going to go over there after he gets into the house and I have a general idea on how I want to provoke him to anger before putting a stop to it, and having my way with him. The specifics will plan themselves out; I do my best thinking last minute, in the heat of the moment.
You may be asking yourself 'why does he have such a hard-on for the Santiago family?' Two weeks ago I watched from the dining room window as the Santiago family moved in, Mr. Santiago directing the movers as they unload his and his wife's belongings. With imperious gestures and loud shouts he orchestrated the workmen; a timed dance intended not to go over their first hour and into the second, lest they incur further fees.
I decided to the neighborly thing and cross the road, to introduce myself. I grabbed a glass bowl of Jell-O from the refrigerator, and threw on a pair of pants and a mostly clean t-shirt. Mr. Santiago paused in his stern directing to give me a death stare as I neared his new house, and when I was within arm's length, before I could open my mouth to utter word one he smacked mother's prize Gelatin desert out of my hand and told me in no uncertain terms to get the fuck off of his lawn. That day I knew I had a new play-toy, and began to plot revenge as I retrieved mother's favorite bowl and got the fuck off his well manicured lawn.
Today is vengeance day. I've fucked his wife, and now I'm going to fuck him, both literally and figuratively. I walk back across and ring the doorbell, hearing a muffled "who the fuck?" from somewhere inside. I grin and step closer, nose almost touching the brown wooden door - a new purchase from Home Depot. With a whoosh the door is whipped open, revealing the barrel chested, sleeveless t-shirt wearing patriarch, Mr. David Santiago. Curly salt and pepper hair frames his balding scalp, matching the curly scruff that decorates his shoulders and chest. I feel a wave of heat exits the home; his air conditioning must not be functioning. Shame, that... I plan to really work up a sweat.
"What do you want, you LITTLE shit?" David asks in a mock nice-nice tone. "You here to drop off more Jell-O, you little motherFUCKER?"
Smiling, I take a half step forward and ask "David, can I come in?"
The look on his red, sweaty face is priceless. "Come in? You want to come in where? Here? Oh no, you little shit. Go back to your mamma's house before I make you regret the day you were born." He punctuates the last two words with two pokes to my chest. This is just what I needed; just a little more and I'll feel really REALLY good about what comes next.
Standing my ground I ask again "David, can I come in? I know that your fat wife is home, and I wanted to see if she felt like taking my cock up her ass again. Do I have to say please?"
The look on David's face is worth a thousand pictures. First was a flash of shock, his lower jaw dropping open comically. His recovery was fast, as he switched from shock, to suspicion, cocking his head to the side. He moved quickly from suspicion to anger, then to pure, animal rage. Spraying spittle he howls "YOU LITTLE MOTHER FUCKER, WHAT THE SHIT DID YOU JUST SAY?"
My face splits open with a huge, shit eating smile. Laughing as I speak, I choke out "I said... can I come into your house and fuck your fat wife in her ass, again. You hard of hearing, old man?" The audacity of the words I'm able to force out between bubbles of laughter cause a massive erection to tent my sweatpants, a fact that does not go unnoticed by Mr. Santiago.
Glancing down at the wet-tipped tent that is my sweatpants he growls "Oh you sick fuck, you sick sick bastard. Get the fuck out of here before I put you in the hospital." Rearing back his fat, calloused left fist he repeats "GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE BEFORE I PUT YOU AND YOUR BITCH MOTHER IN THE HOSPITAL!"
