Evening Up The Score 1

Dear readers,

This is a strange little piece. The small amount of sex in the story isn't erotic. The story is about a man wronged by his father and brother, then taking a rather extreme approach at paying them back.

It could have been in the 'Mature' category, but since it does have incest, I put it here. A reviewer read me the riot act for posting a story that had a small amount of incest in 'Loving Wives.' I don't want to make that mistake again.

If incest bother's you, please move on. Everyone in this piece is well over the age of eighteen.

DocWords

Evening Up the Score

The limo pulled up in front of the nursing home promptly at nine am. As the driver exited to open the door, Robert turned to his mother.

"Clean yourself up and have Peter drive you somewhere for breakfast. I'll be back in about an hour. Have your panties off and your ass lubed. I'll be wanting it when we leave."

"Yes, honey," she replied, as her son stepped out of the limo.

Robert walked inside and to the receptionist.

"May I help you, sir?"

"Where will I find Martin Weston?"

She looked down at her list of patients. "Wing B, room 14, sir."

"Thank you," he said, giving her a charming smile.

Robert walked to the room and stepped inside. His estranged father looked up at him and raised his brow.

"This is a surprise," he said.

Robert sat in the chair facing the bed.

"I understand you're dying."

"Cigarettes finally got to me. I'm glad you came," his father said.

"Really?"

"It's time we put the past behind us."

"I'll do that once you're in the ground, Mr. Weston."

His father shook his head at the formality of his son's comment. He hadn't called him anything but Mr. Weston for nearly twenty years.

"So, if you aren't here to make peace, why are you here?"

"I wanted to make sure you know what I've done since you fucked me over."

"I did you a favor," his father replied.

"Probably, but you still fucked me over."

"Look, I'm dying. Before that happens, I want to make a request."

Robert smiled. "This should be good. What is it?"

"Your brother, Marty, has had a tough time. You're filthy rich, from what I hear. I've been helping to support him, and I'd like you to continue that when I'm gone."

"You want me to support Mr. Weston, Junior? Your eldest son? The football star? The one who bullied me mercilessly my entire life? The pig who fucked every girlfriend I ever had? Except for the one you fucked, of course."

"Rob, you're making it sound much worse than it was," his father insisted.

"No, that's exactly how it was. He inherited your charm, arrogance, athletic ability, and braun. He did all the things I said, and you laughed about it. He made you proud, being a chip off the old block. I'm fully aware of the problems your clone has had and is still having. I caused most of them."

"What do you mean, you caused them?"

"I owe both of you for the shit you put me through. Junior has had trouble keeping a job, just like you did. I understand that he's actually a pretty good auto mechanic and a hard worker. You'd be surprised how little money it takes to get someone fired."

"You did that?"

"Many times, to both of you. I also saw to it that your credit was ruined, and your mortgages were foreclosed. I was more aggressive with Junior than you, initially. I didn't want mom to suffer.

"Mom told me that Junior's wife ran off with another man. That's not what actually happened. I offered her twenty-five grand to dump him." Robert chuckled. "I expected she'd ask for more, but she jumped at it. There was no man. She dumped him for money, my money."

"You're an asshole," his father snapped.

"You have no idea. I have a man that keeps an eye on Junior. When he meets a woman somewhere, my man talks to her and convinces her to end the relationship before it starts. Where's your wife, Mr. Weston?"

"She divorced me several years ago. You know that."

"She's still in the city. Did you know that?"

"No. I haven't heard from her."

"Her name is Helen Roberts now."

"I figured she'd marry somebody. Helen was never good at being alone."

"You never gave her a chance. You knocked her up young and kept her around as a trophy. She isn't married. After the divorce she changed her name to Roberts, indicating that she's the property of Robert. That would be me," his son said, seriously.

"You're a fucking liar," he barked.

"She was devoted to you. Her husband and family were her life. When my investigator showed her the photos and videos of your trysts with that little blonde neighbor girl, it broke her heart. That was when she went to stay with Aunt Sarah for a week. Sarah just happened to have pictures and videos with you and several other women. It was the video of you propositioning Sarah that did the trick."

"You motherfucker!"

"That came later. As I said, she was devoted to you. She filed for divorce when she returned. I paid for it, of course, since you controlled what little money you made. I put mom up in her own place until the divorce was final, then invited her to move in with me."

"Are you implying you and your mother are fucking?"

"I'm not implying anything. I'm saying it outright."

"You're lying. She'd never do that."

"It took a while. Nearly two years, in fact. But now, she gives me anything I want, whenever I want."

"Bullshit!" his father barked, red faced and angry.

Robert took out his phone and turned it facing his father.

"This was recorded on the way here."

The video began by showing Helen looking out the window of the limo.

"Helen," her son said. "Come here and suck me."

She turned and smiled at the camera, then moved toward it, kneeling between the knees of the person recording her. Helen unfastened his trousers and fished out his cock, then looked up at the camera.

"Robbie, are you recording me?"

"I am," her son replied.

She smiled. "I like when you do that."

Her mouth engulfed the hard cock in front of her and she moaned with delight as she began sucking.

"Seen enough, or would you like to see where I covered that beautiful face with cum?"

"You son of a bitch," he said, feebly trying to push the phone away.

"She never gave you her ass, did she? I get it regularly. I have video of that too."

"Fuck you!"

"Helen, I don't call her mother anymore, lives a life of leisure. She lives in a mansion. Travels locally in a limo, and flies first class in a private jet when we travel. She wears the finest clothes and jewelry. All she has to do is give me her body whenever I want."

"Why? Why are you telling me this?" his father asked.

"I could never compete before. You had it all and gave me nothing. When I did get something, you and Junior took it away. Mr. Weston, I win. I came out with everything and you with nothing. Paybacks are a bitch, as you used to say. Take your time dying. The more time you get to think about this, the better."

Robert stood grinning.

"In case you're wondering, I have every intention of continuing to ruin Junior's miserable life."

"Fuck you!"

"Not anymore. Have the day you deserve, Mr. Weston," Robert said, leaving the room.

He walked out the front door and to his waiting limo. The driver held the door as he got in. Robert smiled seeing his mother's bare ass leaning over the seat.

"Ready?" he asked, pulling down his pants.

"I'm all lubed up. How was your father?"

"Not good. He was a little upset when I left."

Robert put the head of his cock just touching his mother's asshole. She pushed back and it slipped fully inside. She moaned as it filled her, then began sliding it in and out.

"I love when you fuck my ass, Robbie."

"I know," he said, as he pumped her.

"Did you show him the video?"

"Part of it. He didn't want to see the ending."

"Oh, well," she said.

Robert continued pumping his mother's ass. After several minutes, she began to flush, then her ass tightened on him.

"Oh, oh, yes!" she cried as she came.

Robert came a few minutes later, then slipped out. His mother opened a small compartment and grabbed a wet towel. She cleaned off his cock then cleaned herself. Both dressed and sat back in their seats. Robert pushed the intercom button.

"Airport, George. I'm taking Helen on a vacation."

"Yes, sir."

"Oh, where are we going?" she asked excitedly.

"Mykonos, I booked a lovely house overlooking the beach."

"I love Mykonos. How long are we staying?"

"A month, with a few trips to the mainland thrown in."

"I need to pack first."

"Already taken care of. You won't be needing a lot of clothes."

"Oh, you nasty boy," she said.

"You love it."

"Every minute of it," she agreed.

*****

Two days later, Martin's eldest son, Marty, walked into his room. He was grinning.

"What the hell are you so happy about?"

"You ain't gonna believe this," Marty replied.

"Probably not. What is it?"

"I got an offer for a job in Saudi Arabia working on some sheik's cars. It's a two-year contract and they're paying me a quarter million a year. I leave Monday."

"You don't even have a fucking passport."

"I don't need one. It's a private contract and they're flying me over in the sheik's private jet. They'll fly me back the same way."

"Marty, this sounds all wrong. Even with the private jet you need a passport. Don't do it. I think your brother is setting you up."

"Robert? I ain't talked to him in years."

"Marty, he's been fucking with both of our lives. He's the one getting us fired from our jobs. He ruined our credit. He's paying us back."

"Why in hell would he bother with that when neither of us have anything to do with him?"

"We fucked him over," his father said.

"You mean his girlfriends, and stuff?"

"That and bullying. He's paying us back."

"Dad, you're the one that put me up to fucking those girls."

"Yeah, but he's pissed at both of us. Don't take the fucking job."

"That's bull shit."

"Marty, I'm dying. The doctor said I got a month at best. Stay here until I'm gone. If they want you at that job, they'll wait a month."

"They said it's a onetime offer. I leave Monday, or I don't leave at all."

"Then don't leave. It's a setup."

"It's a way to make enough money to have a fuckin' life again."

"Tell you what. Call the airlines or someplace. Ask them about the passport. You can't enter a foreign country without one. It's against the goddam law."

"Dad, this is my big chance. I'm sorry I won't be around for your...you know. I gotta go."

"You're making a mistake."

"Bye, dad," Marty said, leaving the room.

Martin sat in his hospital bed thinking for several minutes, then pushed his over the bed table over, spilling everything on it onto the floor.

"Robert, I hope to fuck you're happy," he snapped.

*****

It was about noon on Wednesday when the two men in suits visited Martin. They showed badges identifying themselves as federal marshals.

"Mr. Weston, a man who claims to be your son, Martin, has been arrested in Russia. It seems he was a stow away on a private plane."

"I figured something like this would happen."

"Sir, is this your son?" the marshal asked, showing him a picture.

"Yeah, that's Martin. So, what happens now?"

"The Russians have him in custody. They say he'll be tried as a spy, among other things."

"He ain't bright enough to be a spy. Did you talk to his brother, Robert?"

"The State Department did earlier today. Robert and his mother are in Mykonos, Greece. Neither know anything about it. Thank you for your time, Mr. Weston."

"What's going to happen to my son?"

"If convicted, he could get eight years. If they add other charges, it could be longer."

"Okay, thanks." The marshals left the room. Martin sat looking out the window for a long time. "You won, Rob. You won," he said.