Every Last Thing

Billionaires. Billionaires and their millionaire lackies. You can trace back every single problem in the world today to their greed. House prices, debt, war and famine. They were all connected by tiny threads that joined at the push pin stuck into billionaires on the wall chart of world ills. Lucky bastards who failed to realize that their supposed successes were built on lies and self-delusion. Billionaires were either born into it, born up to it, or fell into it through sheer dint of being at the right place at the right time. For every genius billionaire ready to tell you their system, there were a million failed geniuses with just as good systems who just didn't get the rub of the green. How do I know this? My dad. He's a multi billionaire. And a complete bastard. He's one of the rags to riches types. Worst kind of all. Once he made it, he pulled the ladder up behind him and locked the keep. He married my mom late in life, and had me quickly. Mom and I were closer in age than she was to dad. We were closer in lots of other ways too. She detested his meanness, his willful disregard for those less fortunate, his god given right to do whatever he pleased and fuck over whomever he wanted.

Case in point, I arrived home one day to find mom in the kitchen on a call.

"Hang on a second." She said into the phone as she gave me a quick peck and a warm smile. "Stay on the line and wait for my word." I looked at her quizzically, she smiled and told me to check upstairs.

Not sure what I was looking for, I mounted one side of our massive sweeping staircase and stopped, listening. That's when I heard the unmistakable sound of fucking. I instantly knew why mom was acting weird. I followed the sounds, careful not to make a noise myself. By the time I tracked the humping moans to the master bedroom, I was sure what I'd encounter. I was right and so wrong. The door was slightly ajar. Like I said, my father couldn't give a fuck about anyone. Pushing it open just enough to look in, I spotted my finance, Barb, astride my dad's naked, wrinkled torso, writhing in ecstatic delight. I watched like you'd watch a car crash. Unable to tear myself away. Disgusted and curiously aroused at the same time.

When mom touched me on my shoulder, I almost screamed. She nodded towards the stairs. In the instant before she stopped me, I had planned on confronting my dad and Barb, hurling abuse and storming out on both of them forever. Instead, I dutifully followed mom downstairs.

Mom, it should be said, was the kind of knockout only billionaires could snag. Short, auburn haired, pale. She had wide hips and big breasts. Everything else looked like it should belong to a Hollywood starlet. She was in her late 30s, very fit and ageless. She was quick to smile and slow to anger. Incredibly smart and more resilient than I ever imagined possible.

When we stopped in the kitchen, she raised an eyebrow as if to say 'So?'.

I began to rant about dad and Barb. She put her finger to my mouth to silence me, put the phone to her ear and said "Do it." Then she took my arm and led me outside.

Still in silence, we got into her car and drove off.

"What's going on?" I asked as we sped along a very famous road in a very famous city.

"Not yet." She smiled, seeming very happy with herself.

The valet took our car outside the incredibly expensive hotel, and I followed mom inside. We walked through the lobby straight to the elevators. As the doors closed, mom pressed the penthouse button and again smiled at me enigmatically.

"What's going on?" I repeated.

"Shhhh. Soon." She responded.

On the top floor, mom fished a keycard out of her purse and opened the penthouse suite. I followed, with far more questions than answers. Finally, when the door was closed, she turned to me.

"David." She said. "Your dad is a monster." I just nodded dumbly.

"I knew he was playing around. I always did. I guess I turned a blind eye, bought by lifestyle and security. But, that? That betrayal is unforgivable."

"I agree. But what are we doing here?" I stumbled.

"We're getting out of the way to let him burn."

"What?"

"Half of your dad's assets are in my name. He's been squirreling away money to avoid tax for years. He figured I didn't know what I was signing. He was wrong."

I totally got what she was saying. From the minute I hit 18, Dad was getting me to sign thick documents without reading them. I didn't know what they were, but I had an idea he was hiding money using me.

"Well," mom said, "I've just pushed the big red button."

I looked confused.

"Everything in my name or yours than can be liquidated and transferred through half a dozen offshore accounts is been transferred as we speak."

I mouthed 'wow' as the enormity hit me.

'Know how to become a millionaire?" She asked me with a smile.

I shrugged.

"Be a billionaire and fuck with your wife and your son." She laughed at her own joke I smiled too. In terms of revenge, this felt ok. I was still smarting about Barb, but I'd always harbored a doubt that she was only into me for the money anyway. Seems I was right, and she'd chosen to go after the motherload. Fatherload, I guess.

"What do we do now?"

"What do you do when you discover you father is fucking your fiancé?" She asked.

"Well rage-fucking his wife's obviously not on the cards." I said too glibly. Mom looked at me quizzically.

"I was just thinking about fleecing him for every penny we could, but I must admit, I admire your vision." She smiled.

I laughed nervously. I don't know where the rage-fucking thing came from. I guess I was still hurting that he'd taken my fiancé. I certainly had no intention of screwing my own mother. Besides, her plan seemed to be a better one.

"Lay low?" I suggested more seriously.

"Yes." She gave me an invisible gold star.

"I've ordered some food, by the way, it should be here shortly."

"How long have you been planning this?" I asked.

"Months. Years probably. I've had people tracing every scrap of paper I've ever signed, waiting for the perfect moment. Every piece you've ever signed too."

"So, we're rich?" I said. She looked at me funnily.

"If you want to be." She studied my eyes for a moment. I realized what she was saying. Money had turned my father into a pig. Was the same thing going to happen to his son?

"But we can use the money to do good?" I said. She embraced me, letting out a breath I didn't realize she was holding.

"Good boy." She whispered into my ear. The air from her mouth tickled the tiny hairs there and I felt a curious stirring in my trousers which I put down to a reflex.

"I'm taking a shower to wash that fucker out of my life. Let the food in when it arrives." With that she disappeared through a door into the bedrooms beyond. I sat in a seat and tried to make sense of what had just happened.

In the last hour, I had lost my fiancé, my father and become incredibly wealthy. Not that I wasn't before, but this was on a whole different scale. I thought of all the homeless tent villages I 'd passed over the last few years, eyes averted. I thought about the home foreclosure notices I'd seen. The headlines for various drugs crises I read. All the ills of the world. I knew I wasn't wealthy enough to solve any of the problems, but I also knew I was in a position to redistribute some wealth and make massive lifechanging differences for probably thousands of people.

Wow, I was so proud of my mom in that moment. She was a force of nature. One my father had massively underestimated. And so beautiful. That last though popped into my head again. Shit. This was mom I was talking about. We'd always been thick as thieves, but she was mom. I racked that one up to seeing dad and Barb fucking. Some kind of weird sexual transference. I stood up to answer a knock at the door, and discovered I was sporting a hardon. Weird.

I let the waiter bring in the trolley and asked them to just leave it. I slipped him a hundred and closed the door behind him. Checking under the covers, I spotted some of my favorite foods on the tray, plus a bottle of champagne in a cooler and a half dozen bottles of my beer of choice. Mom had thought of everything. I wandered over to the door to let mom know the food had arrived. Opening the door, I could hear the shower still running in a distant bedroom. I padded across to the door of the bedroom and popped my head inside. The door to the ensuite was wide open. Inside, through the steam, I could see my mom sitting back against the shelf inside the shower. Her head was thrown back, eyes shut. I could see her long neck, her big pale breasts heaving as she took gulps of air. The areolas were massive, almost as red as her hair. Her wide hips framed a flash of red pubic hair, to which she was administering a shower jet. I could make out bright red labia through the hair, labia that mom was going to work on with her other hand as the jet of water hit her clit.

I heard her moan over and over in panting ecstasy 'Good boy. Good boy. My good boy.'

I broke away and made my way back to where the food was, unsure what I had just witnessed. I now had a raging boner. I contemplated getting rid of it in one of the other bedroom's ensuites. But, just then, I heard the distant sound of water stopping.

I sat down, throwing a napkin across my engorged penis, which just didn't seem to want to go down. Mom appeared moments later, hair wrapped in a towel, body wrapped in a skimpy hotel robe. I tried not to stare. She looked flushed and seemed to find it hard to make eye contact with me.

"Food's here." I said, redundantly as she sat down beside me. I detected a cracking in my own voice. I both couldn't bring myself to look at her in case I betrayed my voyeurism and couldn't look away. I tried to appear casual.

"You ordered great, mom." I said.

"Everything you love to eat is here." She said, I detected an incongruous seductive innuendo in the way she said it. Maybe I was just projecting that.

"Shall I pour?" I said grabbing the champagne bottle, realizing too late, that would mean I'd have to stand up to reach her glass. My world had been turned upside down in a matter of an hour and a half. Here I was, super rich, estranged from my dad and fiancé, finding it hard not to replay visions of my naked, masturbating mom in my head. Mum made like she didn't notice, but a playful smile remained on her lips all the way through lunch, and she stared at me like she was trying to see inside my soul.

We ate and chatted though what had just happened and what the very near future might hold. Mom remained in her skimpy hotel robe, sitting back a little from the small table to one side of me. Every now and then, she'd lean forward giving me a glimpse of her beautiful cleavage, or cross her legs, giving me a hint of what lay beneath in shadow. I couldn't believe that this person who I had barely given a second look to over the years was becoming my single sexual obsession. My libido was on overdrive, and I found it very hard to concentrate.

"What's the matter, darling?" Mum asked towards the end of lunch, as I slammed yet another glass of champagne.

"Nothing." I blustered.

"Nonsense. Tell mommy what's wrong. You seem a little hot and bothered."

"I'm fine.' I said, shifting in my seat to adjust my boner.

"You know you can tell mommy anything." She almost whispered. That really didn't help.

Again, I shook it off as nothing.

"Can I see if I can maybe help?" Mom asked kindly.

"I'm ok, mom." I said.

"Just go with this, ok? Trust me?" She said it more as a question.

"Ok." I gulped.

"I suspect, like me, you might be having a thousand new and unusual feeling at the moment." I tried to stop my mouth from dropping open and saying 'no, shit, Sherlock.'

"It's completely understandable. Like I say, I'm going through my own range of new emotions too. Many of which are probably similar to where you are." She added.

I nodded.

"I suspect that part of you is furious at your dad. More so than usual that is. That you've been trying to come to terms with finding out he's taken away the thing you loved, and, in almost the same instance, discovered that you've taken the lion's share of what he loves away from him in return. And now part of you wants to complete the set. Part of you wants to possess everything he ever held dear."

I gulped, not entirely sure where this was going. But also thinking that if I was getting what I thought she was saying, then maybe we were both on the same page. Mom leaned forward again and put her hand on the back of mine.

"Look at me." She ordered. I did.

"I understand. I really do." I refused to acknowledge anything and may face remained passive.

"I feel the same way. I do." She said under her breath, letting her hand slide across mine. My cock leapt in my pants.

"It's nothing weird or wrong feeling this way. It's about revenge. You joked yourself about it earlier. I know you didn't mean it consciously, but I think it was already somewhere in your subconscious. You've robbed you father of most of his power. And now, owning his power, have discovered that power is a powerful aphrodisiac."

I found myself nodding along with her as she held my hand, leaning forward, robe half parted. I was sure I could see some ginger hair.

"Can I make a suggestion?" Said in such a way I couldn't refuse.

I nodded, hypnotized.

"Why don't we just suspend the status quo? For today, at least. Let's ignore normal morals. Just go with it. Get it out of our systems? Then, after, we can move forward together. Forget all about it. And we never have to mention it again."

I half nodded.

"Come with me."

Instead of letting me answer, she took my hand. I found myself levitating from my chair and following her through the door towards the bedrooms. My mind was blank, but my body was singing.

She led me into the bedroom and maneuvered me till my back was to the bed. Then, she quickly undid my tie, my shirt, my belt, my trousers and boxers. Each item was removed and cast aside without a moment's thought. I found myself standing before my mother's appreciative gaze as naked as the day I was born. Then, she let the robe fall from her own shoulders and I got my first fully consensual view of my mother's naked body. It was beautiful. She was beautiful.

I didn't have any time to take it in though. She pushed me hard, catching the backs of knees on the bed, and sending me onto the mattress on the flat of my back. She was instantly on me like a cat pouncing on its prey. Before I knew what was happening, she had lined her sodden pussy up with my cock and pushed forwards. Before I knew what she was doing, she sank along the length of it with a sigh and a smile.

I felt the intense sensation of heat and wet and sliding friction on my penis. It was incredible. I have never felt any sensation like that one. It was at once grounding and completely surreal. To be impaling a woman is one thing, to see the woman crouched above you, on you was another. For that woman to be you own mother, staring into your eyes with love, concern and lust was something altogether different and taboo.

Again, I had no time to process this new series of feelings.

There was only frenzy. Mom, straddling me like a jockey, went for it, pumping up and down with abandon like she just wanted me to come quickly and be done with it. It was like she had a race to win, and I was immaterial. I lay on the bed, hardly able to take in what had just happened, as she rode my cock like a steam piston. Obviously, it was what she needed though. Within what felt like seconds, she was howling in the throes of an orgasm that I could feel as tight pulses on my cock. The sheer shock of her passion -- and the fact it was mom feeling it and I was causing it - sent me over the edge too and I came inside her. The feeling was more intense than anything I had ever experienced. I'd had many orgasms with many women over the years. This was stronger, more intense than all of them combined. I heard myself yelling in pleasure as what felt like gallons of semen was sucked out of my soul, through my penis and into my mother.

Just as quickly, it was over. Mom collapsed across me, cock still inside her, panting.

"I needed that." She whispered, breathlessly.

I said nothing. I lifted my arms up at last and encircled her, holding her gently. I wanted her to know that I was cool with what just happened. The feeling of her skin against my skin was intense. My mind was whirling with what we had just done -- what we were still doing. I had fucked my father over and was now dirty filthy revenge-fucking his wife my mother. My incestuous dick was inside her incestuous pussy. My incestuous semen mingling with her incestuous juices inside her. I tried to make sense of it. And realized one thing. I liked it.

No. I loved it.

We had had something that you could hardly even call sex. Perhaps a revenge-fuck was the term, after all. It was seedy. Scummy. Filthy. Dirty. Wrong. Illegal. Animalistic and primal, there had been absolutely no lovemaking involved, but there was love. Pure, unconditional, and as united and wholly holy as two people could ever be. It may have been wrong. I didn't care.

Mom placed her palms on either side of my face and stared into my eyes, trying to see where my head was at. Finally, I knew where my head was at.

I raised my head and kissed her full on the lips.

Her eyes widened, then crinkled at the sides. She returned my kiss, lips parting, tongue darting between my own opening lips. I lifted my hands to the back of her head and held her as we made out like teenagers. This time, it was slow, passionate, like neither of us had eaten in a month. We devoured each other. Our tongues met and meshed and mangled and mixed saliva as our lips mashed, heads turning this way and that to gain a better angle. We hook each other's tongues, sucked bottom lips and top lips, licked the inside of mouths and over teeth.

My erection, never fully gone, was back hard inside my mom again. Stronger if anything. I felt more than heard a satisfied, surprised grunt from her as she realized her pussy was full with my manhood once more. We continued kissing, however, now she was twisting her hips this way and that, allowing her pussy to inch off and then back onto my cock at different angles.

My hands slid off her head and down her back, tracing her spine, before snaking out to her sides and sliding back up towards the side of her breasts. I repeated this, over and over, each time tracing a new path of discovery round my mother's body. When I found her ass, I ran my hands over the beautiful smooth orbs, tracing the cleft and dipping into the wetness below.

I was conscious of mom's large breasts squashed between us. I wanted to see them, fondle them, suckle at them.

I eased her up and over to one side and onto her back. She groaned in disappointment as my cock fell out of her as she turned. I got up and kneeled across her abdomen and looked down longingly and lovingly at my mom lying naked beneath me. Longing, lovingly and lustfully. My cock was hard and stuck straight out, the hand of a sundial casting a shadow across her pubis. My hands were on her magnificent breasts in an instant. I massaged each, one hand apiece. I concentrated on everywhere but the nipples. They were already sticking up like two corks, and I wanted to leave them till last. I carefully kneaded my way around each areola, watching the impatient, passionate, turned on look in my mother's eyes.

Then, I allowed my palms to drift across her nipples, my hard skin dragging over them. This elicited a sigh from mom. I went back the other direction to similar effect. Now, I travelled around the nipples, catching them each time between thumb and forefinger, before relinquishing my grip. Mom's breath started to come in pants. I began to concentrate solely on her nipples, now tweaking them and rolling them slightly between fingertips. Then, I pinched them slightly, then a little more, a little harder gauging the reaction on her face. As I squeezed harder, I felt a squeeze on my cock as her body responded. I increased the pinching pressure. Then, still pinching, lowered my mouth and sucked in one of the nipples that had given me my first ever meal on this earth between my lips.